Clean Streets (Open RP IC)

New York City: 12:00

"Tonight is the night, gentlemen. The night we take to the streets of New York, as we have those of Gothic. Tonight we spread into America herself! Go forth! Live for the Brahma Bull! Die for the Brahma Bull! Make him proud! Gather at Broadway for the great surge into Times Square!"

All throughout New York, the message rang out. Phones buzzed in the pockets of the vindictive, those whose fingers clenched around rifles and whose oily palms gripped burning molotovs. Over the last month, each and every last criminal cell in Manhattan had received calls from who they'd thought to be the Brahma Brotherhood. After all, they certainly sounded serious; every message was meticulously encoded in a mixture of foreign dialects, a collection of instructions that detailed an imminent takeover by none other than the Brahma Brotherhood.

Of course, the entire thing was a lie.

Garth Redeker slouched back in his long chair, popping open an old-fashioned glass bottle of Soda Cola. He took a long drink of the fizzy sugar as the bottlecap bounced off the floor, emptying it with the next drag. Placing the bottle on his console, he turned to face a large electronic map of the city. The smarter criminals would never appear, of course, and the police wouldn't dare intervene; preliminary evacuations had already begun throughout the area. The cops, of course, had only heard tell of the "Brahma Bull's" plans an hour ago. They'd all seen what the Brotherhood's chemicals could do in Gothic City, and they knew they wouldn't be able to mount an offensive. To the inefficient, Times was already lost. A military dispatch was likely, but it wouldn't be necessary. Besides, help from the police or the military was outside the conditions of Redeker's bet.

That's how it all started, a bet.

A little over one month ago, a prospective employer had offered him a ridiculous sum of money as little more than a joke for one simple task. The task in question? Clean the streets of New York. Decrease crime by 20% overnight, without police aid. Another caveat? Do it non-lethally. No guns, no bombs, no deadly chemical weapons. All clean, no killing. What's more, Redeker would have to be present at the scene, right in the thick of the fighting. Not usually his style, but he could make do.

Redeker had grinned his trademark asshole-ish smile and accepted without second thought. What was more, he was sure he'd be able to do it too. After all, the man had said no police or military interference. Garth had a secret weapon, and it would be one most people wouldn't expect him to use: metahumans. After all, it'd be extremely difficult to manipulate a superhero or two into fighting the wannabe-Bulls for him, right?

Riiiiight.

12:12

They'd gathered in the streets, the horde of criminals. Some had adorned themselves in garments reminiscent of the Bulls', but clearly less detailed. Others had retained their regular street clothes, but hefted machine guns and grenades under messy coats. There were armored cars and even a few low-level parahumans, but Garth trusted his "friends" to handle them.

Of course, there was the question of whether or not any actual members of the Brahma Brotherhood had heard about this little shindig. Garth paused mid-climb on a ladder, eyes growing wide behind his bulbous goggles.

Wait...didn't think of that, he realized, a single drop of sweat running down the side of his head. If any actual Bulls showed up, he could very well have screwed himself...and New York.

Ah well. Too late now, I guess, he concluded with a shrug, resuming his climb. He could hear the horde growing in size, an unpleasant cacophony of building anarchy. He was confident a hero would show. Any time now, they'd soar above the buildings, fire shooting from their nostrils, eye-lasers burning holes through the wannabes' cars. They just had to. He'd watched them before; they operated like clockwork. If you burn it, they will come.

Besides, he really didn't want to lose that bet.

12:17

He'd calculated it down to the second, the Man with a Plan. Seventeen minutes was all it took for a superhero to show his face, rushing from wherever to fight what they perceived to be a menace to their oh-so-precious society. Sure, he may have started a small revolution in New York City, but it'd be worth it in the end. Only criminals would get hurt, no innocents. There might be some property damage, but you've got the government for that.

He'd also counted on all the gun-wielding maniacs sticking to Gothic. After all, there was pretty much a war in the streets going on constantly in that area. Here, in New York, he'd hoped to encounter some more...wholesome vigilantes. Even just one parahuman might be able to do the trick; they throw the mob around, and Garth would swoop in and take the credit.

It's not like it was really immoral, either; they'd get to do the good they wanted, and Garth would get paid. That's all it took. They'd be arriving any moment now, just as the crowd of anarchists were growing restless. But, as per the bet, it would fall upon Garth Redeker to make the first move. And so, from his building above, he pressed his thumb on a small red button in the palm of his glove.

{(...SomeBODY once told me the world was gonna roll me, I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed...)}!!!

Intense music filled Broadway, disorienting and pulsating throughout the ears of the wannabe-terrorists. It was incredibly distracting, an inexorable beat that thrummed in the hearts and through the eardrums of the dozens of would-be murderers. It pulsed from speakers in clubs, from radios in cars, from the very phones on the bodies of each. Garth hadn't actually done the setup, but he knew a guy that had managed to rig it all up in about a week. Every gangster, thug, and vandal in the crowd winced, clutching at their heads. Some dropped their weapons, only to quickly pick them back up. Those who had anticipated firefights had been wise enough to wear earplugs, but most criminals had neglected to think of such a thing, expecting little to no opposition. Criminals were stupid, Garth remembered. New York criminals were even dumber.

Simultaneously, a foglike haze emanated from the sewers, blinding and disorienting a majority of the criminals. Garth hadn't the money, time, or insurance to purchase any chemicals to put into the fog machines...so they just made fog. But hey, it looked cool.

And now, it was showtime. He'd bought himself enough time for the paramen to arrive; now, all he'd have to do was make a grand entrance, then slink away and hide while the superheroes mopped up his mess. Then he'd collect his money, and the jails would overflow with douchebags. It was a win-win.

He dropped from the building he was on, a controlled dive that allowed him to make use of his cape in order to soften his landing. He fell directly in the middle of the now-scattering terrorists, pepper spray cannisters flicking into his hands. With a smirk, he looked off into the distance as the town went to shit around him.

@cheat:

Garth had indeed cut out an impressive little slice of heroics out for himself, and all for the wrong reasons. Pest however, wasn't one to judge. He enjoyed shenanigans of any kind, if they were innocent enough. The wannabe hero would quickly see criminals vanishing in the blink of an eye, with a distinctive *POP!* Just before. The only thing barely seen before they started POPPING! away was a green figure clutching onto them.

After easily twenty goons were gone, the mania continued on unhindered. That is until the green bug himself, Pest, POPPED! right beside Garth, nudging him with his elbow in a chummy manner. "Well hey there! Don't think I've seen you around before, nice costume, like the goggles, like my goggles! You supposed to be a bug? Or just an googly eyed fella? Is it expensive material? Hang on-" *POP!*

Pest vanished in an instant, popping back after five seconds and catching his breath. "I do love sending me some goons to Fiji! Ever been to Fiji? Pretty sure that thread hasn't been made yet.." He spoke incredibly fast, it was clear the Pest was rather...Nutty.

@_creed_:

Only moments after landing, his ears picked up on an ever-so-quiet...POP. He spun to face a truly curious sight, and to Garth, well, it was pretty shocking at first. On instinct, he raised the two large spray cans, aiming them directly at the green-suited fellow's face. Holding in a curse, he twitched for a second, dropping the cans to his sides.

"Geez, man, you got here quick," he murmured to himself, scratching the side of his head with one of the cans. Suddenly, with another POP, the man was gone, Garth stumbling backwards as the Pest vanished into thin air. With a sharp intake of breath, he looked around, only to see the odd little superhero gather up a dozen goons one by one, depositing them elsewhere.

Holy shit, I did it! This'll be a breeze! he realized, smile growing wide on his face. Five seconds later, the man was back beside him, startling him once more. His jump was less pronounced, though he still hadn't expected the bright little guy back so quickly. Was he an alien? Or maybe a mutant?

"Nah, never been to Fiji," he said with a laugh. "What're you called, man? M'name's, uh, Cheat," he said, holstering one of the canisters and extending his gloved palm for a handshake while criminals scattered around them.

@cheat:

"Cheat huh? That can't be any kind of clever play to your characteristics, like you're some kind of two timer or ANYTHING!" Pest slowly looked to you, a cheesy grin on his face that damn well sparkled. He shook his hand very quickly...Not letting go while still staring at you...For like five whole seconds. But finally he stopped and looked back at Cheat.

"I'm Pest, for obvious reasons. You're ears are gunna pop in a second by the way, you'll get used to it!" With still having contact with Cheat's hand, Pest POPPED! the two of them merely five feet from where they stood. This was explained quickly when the goons surrounding them a moment ago ended up shooting each other where their targets should have been.

"Wait, you're not perceiving me as like, a TINY insect guy right? I'm pretty eye level with ya.." Pest somehow remarked Cheat's misconception, even though he didn't remark the fact.

@_creed_:

"Huh? No, it's because I have to cheat to compete with-"

The air was practically sucked from his lungs as the two POPPed from existence, reappearing about five feet to the left.

"-guys like you," he finished weakly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a number of goons rolling weakly on the ground, all apparently having shot one another after "Pest" had taken them away.

"Whoa. Uh, good one," he said, releasing the man's hand from his grip. Idly, he unlocked a taser from his belt, spinning to fire it into an approaching thug with a mere click of the trigger. Garth stood straight as the man crashed to the ground twitching, his taser sparking in his hands. With a satisfied nod, he turned back to the Pest.

"So what's your deal? Something weird bite you? Are you a mutant? Spill," he said, turning back to face him.

@cheat:

"Tried my luck as a thief. First score was a teleporter thingy, thingy exploded, got thingy radiation exposure and now I AM THE THINGY!" Pest made a classic heroic pose, fireworks going off in the sky...Okay well he imagined that part. "Guess that makes me a mutate, I think that's what the Forum users call it these days. I call it a weak origin story. I like yours though! Can't tell you why though, or these stupid crosses go through my words and get redacted, rules and all that."

Pest jumped in the air for what seemed like no particular reason, only to POP! away and land right on a goon's head to knock him out, POPPING! back to Garth. "Your turn to spill! I showed you mine, after all. What do ya know about what's going on here? What's with the random crime fest?"

@_creed_:

Wait, did he say radiation?!? Maybe I ought to keep my distance...then again, he's tearing right through these guys, which is just what I need.

Garth angled his head forward, listening to the eccentric teleporter's story.

He seems absolutely insane...maybe whatever radiation he's talking about fried his brain. Can't get too close.

"Brahma Brotherhood. First they took Gothic, now they want New York. It's some kind of public recruitment...they ordered all the psychos in one place. Luckily, with all the eggs in this basket, we can make a damn good omelet once the dominos fall. Checkmate."

His 360 degree goggles did their job, a flash of movement to his side warning him of an impending attack. A pipe-wielding thug emerged from the fog, heavily tattooed and screaming a battle cry. Garth merely stepped backwards, sticking out his foot and allowing the disoriented man to trip over it. After he hit the ground, Garth casually tased him in the back, ensuring he'd stay out of the action for a little while. After that unceremonious display of "skill," he returned his attention to his new friend (asset).

"As for me, I fight crime 'cause I'm good at it, and criminals are d-bags. That's about it."

@cheat:

Pest had seemingly POPPED! away and back during Cheat's "Skillful" display, wearing a cooks apron and a still steaming frying pan. What he was mixing in it was an omelette...With dominoes mixed into it. His smile faded a bit and stopped stirring. "Oh! You meant literally, didn't you? Well, can't let this go to waste!" The bugger chucked the frying pan right for Cheat's head, knowing he would crouch.

It would instead hit the terrorist behind the hero, who was attempting to stick him with a knife. Pest POPPED! beside the fallen mook, crouching down and picking up some of the egg that was still in the pan. "Hmm! For sure a six domino, it's got that three pizaz! CUBED!" Once again, the green goof POPPED! near another attacking goon, this time using the apron to cover his face. "Now would be a good time for a cheap shot!" Pest struggled to keep the man still, hoping Cheat would get the joke and sucker punch this distracted sucka'.

@_creed_: Spinning at the sound of the Pest's voice, he ducked, watching as a frying pan soared over his head and into the face of an oncoming assailant. He'd grown distracted by the ever-moving man, the surreal mixture of comedy and violence throwing him off his game.

Is that a domino omelet? Wow, he thought to himself, watching the green-clad superhero pick up what remained of what probably comprised his daily breakfast. He moved rapidly, attacking another terror agent, covering his face with the odd little apron that now adorned his form. At his own suggestion, Cheat moved in for his own shot, a solid kick directly into the man's stomach. From behind, his mirrored goggles picked up another attacker. Cheat spun to meet him, grabbing the thug's wrist as it came down on him. Interrupting the man's strike in mid-swing, he spun, dragging him over his back. With a mighty heave, he turned the thug's momentum against him, sending him soaring towards the Pest.

"Pull!" he yelled, setting up the Green Machine for a combo of his own.

@cheat:

Pest just spread his arms wide, as if catching something light. Of course the thug's body collided right into Pest's the two almost falling to the ground, that is if the two didn't POP! away before hitting the pavement. Pest POPPED! back beside Garth, he dusted his hands. "So..." He paused for a moment, ten feet down the street, the thug that collided with Pest finally fell onto a parked cab from a great height. "...That happened!"

"I like your style Cheat! I think I owe ya a milkshake when this is all said and-" *POP!* Pest vanished, grabbing one of the attackers and sending took him to Siberia before POPPING! back to Garth. "-Done."

@_creed_:

"Yeah, sounds good to me too, Pest. D'you have a place where you send all these guys? Like a prison somewhere? Or is it a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing?" he inquired, angling his head slightly to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a traffic camera, smiling slightly. It would've caught everything, proving that he was involved with the breakup of the criminal rings. The bet was all but won, and the reward money was as good as his. He figured he'd share some with Pest, too; it only seemed to be the decent thing to do, seeing as the green-clad adventurer had done nearly 90% of the physical work so far.

"Oh, and by the way, do you have an actual name? Calling you "Pest," well, it's just gettin' a little weird."

@cheat:

"Spur of the moment, usually. I can POP! anywhere I can think of, even a picture will do! So I just drop peeps off where they'll be no more trouble for me, without killing them of course." Pesy tapped his noggin with a smile, already thinking of places he could POP! to next. "And nope! Pest's the name and pesting is my game. Had a name once, but that's not really me any more, knowwhatImean?"

It was true. Pest had no life outside of his green costume, this was his life. All of the people before his accident believed him to be dead, and it seemed better off that way.

@_creed_:

"Oh. Huh," he said, nodding along with Pest. Already, in the back of his head, gears were turning, tumbling into place. This Pest was practically omnipotent compared to him, but it also seemed that he lacked the proper drive to use his powers to their most lucrative potential. Garth wasn't into the superhero business for money, but a place to live and a car to drive were nice things to have on the side. What's more, at the rate they were moving, they could decrease crime itself at a pace that would out-do any political reform in history. Garth could find the bad guys, and Pest would do the rest. Considering an alliance, he stroked his chin for a moment, monitoring his surroundings. Several criminals had moved into the surrounding buildings, and they seemed to be rallying; with Pest's teleportation, they wouldn't pose too much of a threat. Others were already on the move, piling into vans and trying to get away.

"Well then. What's our next move, pal?" he asked, turning his head to scope out any nearby terrorists.

@cheat:

"Hmm...Huh...Oh! AHA! Dibs on the vans!" Pest grabbed Cheat by the shoulders, POPPING! him smack dab in the middle of a gang invaded building. "You're a pretty BA hero, I'll be rightbackafterdealingwiththevans you got this!" He quickly said with his motor mouth before POPPING! away.

*POP!* Pest appeared on the hood of an escaping van, waving in a friendly manner. "Excuse me! I'm totally lost here, you wouldn't happen to know where the bad guys went, right?" The driver and passenger opened fire through the window, only for Pest to POP! into the back seat and put his arms over their shoulders. "Ah, I see you guys know the Gothic City customary way of greeting a stranger! Lemme show you the Pest way!"

The bizarre bug POPPED the car right towards one of the invaded building's entrance, sending it crashing right through the glass doors. After coughing from the destroyed engine's smoke, he unbuckled himself and made sure the two unbuckled goons were still alive. Pest looked to you with a thumbs up "Don't POP! and drive folks... Huh, how do you think our buddy Cheat is doing upstairs?"

"Was that a rock? Why... WHY ARE TERRORISTS THROWING ROCKS AT OUR CAMPAIGN BUS!?!?" The candidate was quickly roused. The driver was firmly instructed to continue to the hotel, as Sam stepped out into the chaos. Absentmindedly snapping three bones in a bad guy's arm, he grabbed his gun and fired three shots off into the air. "You have thirty seconds to disperse." The would-be terrorists turned to look at him. And one by one fell to the ground, a ricocheting bullet piercing their nonvital organs. They'd live.

@_creed_:

Suddenly, without warning, the Pest grabbed the Man with the Plan and POPPED him somewhere entirely unfamiliar. Disoriented, he looked around, his night-vision activating the moment he entered the darkened building. Normally, he'd be in a tactically advantageous position, but the less-than-stealthy Pest's POP had alerted every terrorist in the immediate vicinity. Cheat's eyes grew wide behind his bulbous mask as they pivoted towards him, hefting submachine guns and crying out curses in his general direction. Grabbing the side of his cape, he rolled desperately behind a desk as bullets tore up the ground, casting sparks everywhere as the sound of gunfire echoed throughout the abandoned building. A few shots thumped into the reinforced material, knocking him slightly off balance and causing him to lose control slightly in his dive. Had the cape not been there, he'd have taken a bullet to the stomach. Crawling across the floor, he pulled himself into a roll, coming up behind another desk as the last one fell apart.

Asshole almost killed me! he thought, teeth grit, drawing out one of his tranquilizer guns. Then again, he couldn't really fault the Pest; if he thought Cheat was badass enough to handle the entire building on his own, well, it was almost a compliment. And then there was the fact that he alone was taking care of most of the situation...

Alright. Time to nut up or shut up.

From behind his back, he drew a small disc, heavy and flat. Hurling it across the room amidst the chaos, he waited for it to land just out of sight, right in the terrorists' collective peripheral vision. After a few more seconds had passed, he pressed a small button in the palm of his hand, just as a hissing noise filled the room. A life-size decoy of Cheat suddenly inflated, blowing up from within the disc and assuming a combat pose.

"Stop right there, douchebags!" came the tinny recording, the dupe pointing an inflatable finger towards the collection of terrorists. Collectively, they turned to it, fingers pressing on their triggers in tandem. The decoy was ripped apart where it stood, popping instantly and sending shreds of itself around the room. Just as they'd realized what'd happened, Cheat himself rose up from behind the desk, using it as a stepping stool to leap directly at the squadron of gangsters.

The dual tranquilizer pistols in his hands roared to life, needles shooting rhythmically towards the cadre of miscreants. Together they fell, instantly knocked out as the darts pierced their skin, slumping unceremoniously to the ground. Cheat ended with a roll, stopping right before the group. Just as he'd finished, he heard another one coming from behind. Without turning around, he drew a can of his trusty pepper spray, letting loose over his shoulder without so much as looking at the wannabe-Bull. The man shrieked and stumbled away, tripping over a railing and falling to the story directly underneath, where he lay writhing in agony.

"Please tell me someone saw that," he muttered to himself smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

@cheat:

Pest popped open the fridge that was inside the room, having POPPED! there a minute before the fight ended. "Hell yeah I did! Not too shabby, Cheatster." He complimented the supposed vigilante and realized that the fridge was long since broken. "What a waste of ham! Like seriously, pounds of it for some reason.." Slamming the door shut, he turned to his partner in justice. "Took care of those van guys, hope they have that thing covered 'cause it's wedged in the lobby downstairs."

Pest POPPED! Cheat and himself atop the roof of the building they were just in, overlooking the streets below. "Hmm, what next what next.." He murmured, using his hands in pretending to use binoculars. "See anything wit those snazzy goggles...Garth?" There was a long silence, which was cracked by Pest's bursting laughter. "Imagine if your name was actually Garth! Wouldn't that be a totally random happenstance!?"

@cheat: @_creed_: Garth's stunt had attracted the attention of the I.M.C.'s funder known as Delta, the incredibly tall machine walked out of a green slip space portal as it came to investigate the threat of terrorism.

@nano_swarm: @_creed_:

Just a long look was all Pest was afforded, coupled with a raised eyebrow behind a round red goggle. It wasn't too big of a deal that the Pest knew his name (as he clearly did), for he had no civilian identity to speak of. He worked as a hero full-time, which would lead many to label him a mercenary; due to the nature of his jobs, however, he didn't consider that to be the case. At any rate, Pest was clearly a few bullets short a full clip, and he doubted anyone would believe him should he randomly decide to spill the beans.

"As a matter-a-fact, Pest, I do see something," he said, his other eyebrow raising to match the first. Tapping the side of his helmet, he zoomed in on a hulking machine, a purple mechanoid striding through a glowing green portal. An intimidating red optic scanned the area, the clearly advanced robot drawn to Times Square for an ominous purpose. He doubted it was even related to their operation...hell, it probably wanted to conquer the planet.

"Giant robot, ten o' clock. I think things just got knocked into twelfth gear. Take us down there...let's say hello. Also, be ready to get us out at a moment's notice."

He held up his left hand for a high-five, his right palm tightening on his pistol's handle. There'd be no more hand-holding; high-fives are for badasses.

I feel like suddenly we're dealing with a whole 'notha level, he thought, waiting to dodge at any sign of attack from the enigmatic eidolon.

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

"Huh! You're not kiddin'! Not surprised, that's sorta my thing." Pest pretended to put his imaginary binoculars away, nodding in approval to the high -five. As soon as their palms slapped together, the bug eyed duo POPPED ten feet from the towering metal behemoth. "Well hey there stranger! Don't suppose you're here to help us? I'm guessing from that comment in the other thread..." Pest leaned on the fourth wall a tad, of course sounding like crazy talk.

"...Careful, I get a serious anime vibe from her..." Pest murmured to Cheat while leaning over, nudging his elbow.

@cheat: @_creed_: The large 'eye' of the machine turned focus on Pest as it scanned him and attempted to analyze his abilities from a distance, Delta replied "Affirmative, retreat to your homes and advise those in the streets to as well. Termination of all aggressors will begin in the next five minutes" Delta raised its arm cannon and held it towards its chest as it stood still waiting for a digital timer to go off before it started killing looters and pretty much anyone else committing a violent act.

@_creed_: @nano_swarm:

Cheat's eyes grew wider still behind his bulbous goggles.

"Whoa, whoa, pal, termination of all aggressors? That's a little extreme, now, don't you think? What ever happened to due process of law?"

From the way the thing was talking, it sounded like it was gonna explode and take out half of New York with it. Once more, sweat began to roll down the side of his head. He pointed his finger at the robot, his mind working overtime. Even if the thing was friendly, he saw a death machine.

"What gives you the authority to just teleport in here and lord all over us, uh, sentient species? S'none of your business!"

He stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest.

"In fact...as the premier representatives of Earth, Pest and I demand to see your manager!"

@_creed_: @cheat: Delta's eye glowed as its head aimed towards Cheat "I am lording over no one, I am simply eliminating hostiles and then I will leave, my administrator is unavailable for conversation if you wish to contact my administrator you will have to submit a form"

Delta lowered its cannon as a slot on the arm opened up and released some digital papers that floated towards cheat before it closed once again "A reply will be sent in thirty to sixty business days once you send the application"

@cheat:

Pest flinched as soon as the machine just started offing people. "Holy crap! It just started offing people!" (That's what I JUST said!) The green goof was entirely against killing, even as a former villain he never killed anyone flat out. So he nodded with what Cheat had to say Pest stepped up as well, thumbing at his chest aggressively. "Yeah! This isn't the happy meal I ordered at all! Isn't there ENOUGH people just killin' NPCs all willy nilly!? AND THE HAPPY MEAL FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!"

@_creed_: @nano_swarm:

Garth snatched the papers from the air with of his gloves, quickly skimming over them with his eyes.

"Ahem. May I, one of the two representatives of Earth, suggest substituting 'eliminating' with 'neutralizing?' Non-lethally, perhaps? For efficiency's sake," he added quickly, shooting a glance at Pest, a look that said back me up!

He tugged at his collar. If this thing killed everyone, he might lose his bet...

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

Pest took the paper and literally ate it, not even reading it once. "Look! *Gulp* I can POP! you to where a majority of the targets are! I took them all to the same location, efficiency and all that." He laughed nervously, seeing no other choice but to comply to what the robot wanted. "Then I could POP! you back here and you can finish off the rest?"

@cheat: @_creed_: Delta's eye grew particularly more red then before in response to Pest's action almost as if that was a sign of anger for the machine, however it turned its attention back to Cheat's offer "The proposition is acceptable, I will neutralize hostiles non lethally"

@nano_swarm: @_creed_:

Garth's posture instantly relaxed, slouching backwards as he snapped both fingers at the massive machine.

"Alriiight! Glad we got that worked out. You, uh, had me worried for a sec there," he said, finishing with a nervous laugh. His breathing slowed once more, glad to have prevented what may have quickly become an unpleasant, viscera-filled night on Broadway.

"Pest, man, how 'bout we stick around and watch the fireworks? This'll be a sight to see, I bet," he chuckled, rubbing his gloved hands together.

This worked out way better than I expected.

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

"Huh! I somehow even annoy robots! Go figure." Pest took another gulp of his slushee, no doubt POPPING! away for a moment to get one. He stood by his newfound friend, casually ready to witness to the action. "I do like me we robot beatdowns! Like that one cartoon..Thundercats."

@_creed_: Garth turned to face the green man, the ever-present Pest now loudly drinking a slushie.

"Thundercats? I think you mean Challenge of the Go-Bots, right?" he said, pointing to the hulking robot.

"At least, that's what this guy reminds me of. Would you mind grabbin' me one o' those? I can pay you back later," he asked, gesturing to the iced drink.

@cheat:

"Right right, Go-Bots...Of the Thundercats!" Pest stuck his now stained purple tongue out, clearly messing with Cheat. He didn't say another word before POPPING! away, and POPPING! back a few moments later with an all flavour slushee. "Didn't know what flavour ya wanted, so I got you what I like to call "Unicorn Poop!" it's not half bad."

The duo stared on at the scene, Pest grinning away. "It's been a long time since I've had a night like this, y'know? Heroes these days, lemme tell ya. Sometimes I feel like some of them take hours, even DAYS to get things done... When you're stuck waiting on someone? It's enough to kill a guy like me! *Sluuuuurp*"

@_creed_:

"Ah, gee, thanks," he said, accepting the slushie and raising the straw to his mouth.

THIS is why I leave half my face exposed, he thought, sucking some ice up the straw. He winced. Damn it, brain freeze.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

Or at least, I think I do.

"Everything's a grim disaster nowadays. Thousands dead, evil wins, yadda yadda. But this? This is what superheroics looks like, man. We're showin' em how it's done," he said, fully aware of the irony behind his statement.

"You know how people in movies always sayin' they 'didn't sign up for this shit?'"

He took a long drink from the slushie.

"This is precisely what I signed up for."

@cheat:

"Who knows! Maybe this'll make people write-Er, do more of this kinda stuff! We just gotta keep it up Cheato." Pest assured the fellow "hero" with a cheers of their slush cups. (Even though you know?) "Even then! This guy knows how to have fun!" He spoke up to the sky, seemingly at nobody.

His attention turned back to the event, having finished his drink. "Waddya say, get back to kicking some good 'ol fashioned stock thug butt?" Pest smirked, tossing his empty cup behind him, and hitting an unconscious goon on the heat with it.

@cheat: @_creed_: Soon the five minutes were up and Delta metaphorically went to clean the streets of 'scum', the nanomachines edited the large mecha's canon to fire a non lethal neuro emp ray instead of anti-matter.

Mobs of people caught in violence suddenly collapsed paralyzed as the purple robot sweeped its gun like a flashlight towards them, hundreds fell to the ground in the blink of an eye from a light green light regardless of where it hit them or what they were wearing and they remained motionless but still breathing as their nerves were paralyzed, it would be that way for them for the next few hours. In just a minute several street blocks were in silence and filled with the bodies of incapacitated people. The purple robot returned back to Cheat "The aggressors are ready for transportation"

@nano_swarm: @_creed_:

Cheat whistled in appreciation, finishing off his own slushie as the enormous robot handily took down the remainder of the terrorists. They were paralyzed, utterly motionless regardless of whatever evasive maneuvers they attempted at the time. He absentmindedly turned to extinguish a burning trash can with a spray from his belt, placing the slushie cup inside. When he looked back up, the robot was there, an eerie silence replacing what had only before been absolute chaos.

"Waow. Nice work. I'll, uh, give you a good customer review," he said, staring up into the glowing red photoreceptor. Despite the robot's easy handling of the situation, there was something not quite right about the way it stared at everything. Cheat couldn't put his finger on it, but maybe it just had to do with trust. The thing was emotionless, or so it seemed...what happened if it decided he was a hostile too? What chance would he and Pest stand against the hulking droid?

"Well, looks like that's that, Pest. You wanna move these guys into a prison or something? Maybe we should round up the ones you dropped off in Fiji. I don't think they deserve a free vacation," he said with a smile.

"And you," he said, turning back to the robot, "do you have a name? A designation? A number, even," he inquired, staring up at the scarlet optic. "I'm Cheat. This is Pest."

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

Pest hummed in compliance. "Yeah yeah, jail makes more sense." He grumbled, POPPING away instantly after so he could get to work. It was that much easier POPPING! the goons about when they were all grouped together thanks to the massive robot. So fast even that Pest was done just around when Cheat was introducing the two of them.

He POPPED! back just as soon as his name was mentioned, dusting off his hands with an accomplished nod. "I wanna call her "GIGANTOR! THE PASSIVE AGRESSIVE ROBOT!" Pest spoke in a perfect trailer voice, stomping his feet about as if he were a giant. Completed with laser and explosion noises.

@_creed_: @cheat: Delta tilted his head in a manner that what would be considered curious for most people, Delta tilted its head only when Pest referred to the machine as a she.

"My name is Delta" it said in a deep and gender neutral voice as it seemed to focus attention on Pest as it wondered how the hell he found out about the female form. Delta raised its clawed robo fingers tips as a holographic map spawned and registered the I.M.C. logo as an administrator called to check in

"Hello, Delta what is your status report?" no face was seen but a man's voice could be heard through the I.M.C. logo image that floated above, "Aggressors neutralized" Delta replied back "clearance for investigating the disturbance is green".

@_creed_: @nano_swarm:

Cocking his head to the side as he listened to the machine report in, Cheat crossed his arms in front of his chest, tapping his foot. It was not a sign of impatience, but rather of deep thought, of analysis; the past few minutes in particular had revealed quite a bit about the robot, and while he might strike most as a dumbass in a cape, Cheat was actually quite the capable thinker.

Delta, he thought. Greek letter. Suggests there might be an Alpha, perhaps and Omega. Also tells me that it's from Earth, being that no alien would choose an ancient language's letter for a name. That...or it's a bizarre coincidence.

More interestingly, it had reported in, a masculine voice inquiring about the nature of the thing's endeavor here. Briefly, Cheat had seen a logo flash up on the thing's hand, illuminating the purple talons for a mere second as it answered whatever call it'd just received.

It's working under orders. Damn, we might just be screwed after all, if this thing isn't a friendly Ted Hughes-style robot.

Despite his worrying thoughts, he maintained a pleasant veneer, smiling at Pest's antics and looking up at the mechanoid.

"So, your name's Delta. It fits you, I'd say," he said, inspecting his harness to make sure everything was still in its proper place. "Thanks for the assist. Pest and I had it under control, but any bit of help saves lives."

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

Pest had POPPED! on the mech's shoulders, tapping it's head rhythmically like a drum. "Yeah, thanks for not killing everyone like you originally intended! That would have taken this event to a pretty dark place!"

Yet, he still had his doubts about this Delta character. Sure, he read her bio, but still... "Who ya talking to on your shiny mcwhatsit there D? Wait! Don't tell me, I want the story to build. It could lead to some *slips into oldies announcer voice* BETRAYEL! INTRIGUE! ADVENTURE! Or, you know, our deaths...But whatever, I'm cool with either. Does anyone smell purple hair dye around here?"

Pest tapped his chin while sniffing the robot's noggin like a bloodhound, snuffling here and there.

@cheat: @_creed_: Delta focused attention on Pest as it ended its transmission, it was about to go all terminator on him when suddenly a portal opened as I.M.C. soldiers walked out; there were also portals that opened up in the sky to reveal I.M.C. drop ships. It seemed like a mini invasion as heavily armed and teched up soldiers began to take positions in the district and set up checkpoints.

a man inside a mecha commanded Delta as the robot was about to grab Pest with its claws, "Affirmative" Delta said as it returned to its formal composure and recalled Cheat's compliment earlier "the compliment you gave me, it should be given to the captain"

@_creed_: @nano_swarm:

Cheat crossed his arms once more as a horde of soldiers appeared from seemingly nowhere, with transports arriving from above the clouds and massive machines not unlike Delta marched down the city streets. Every last soldier seemed to be adorned with one metric ton of weapons and ammunition, marching in sync through the streets. He was reminded in that instant of Maverick Incorporated, the world's premier private military. Maybe they intended to give the so-called World Police a run for their money. Even as soldiers surrounded the Man with a Plan, he never moved, idle as they passed by him. They paid him no heed, and he returned the favor.

"So. What's going on? The problem's been solved. Why are you occupying New York?" he inquired, directing the question at the machine to Delta's right. He made no sudden moves, but his posture was subtly alive with adrenaline. He was still prepared for a fight; it almost seems as though they'd traded in the faux-Brotherhood for a whole new potential takeover. Subtly aware of gun barrels angled towards his form, Cheat's bulbous goggles trained on the massive mech.

"Who do you work for?" he asked, cape blowing behind his back as dropships passed overhead, kicking up the wind and stirring up the newfound tension.

@nano_swarm: @cheat:

Pest flinched at the sudden arrival of the soldiers. "Wow! Talk about plot convenience, am I right?" He giggled nervously while POPPING back beside Cheat, not wanting the robot to crush his bones into dust. The situation was getting serious, and fast. A little too much for the Pest's taste.

He could see Cheat literally grow to a sterner persona, tapping his chin at the sudden mood change. He would let him have his clucking with the giant metal hen. What he was worried about, was where to POP! him and Garth if things went into a jam. "Mmm... Jam... Uhh, speaking of which, Cheat? Unray romfray myray?" Pest nudged his pal's arm, pretending to stretch a collar as the military started to close in on them passively.

@_creed_: @cheat:A holographic projection manifested at the open palm of the mech "We are the I.M.C., we are not taking over New York. Only specifically this district since it has V.I.P's of our faction"

The Captain paused as Delta continued to inform for him "Hostiles attacked essential personnel, we are here to conduct investigation on whom was responsible for that action, the Brahma Brotherhood's chance of involvement in the series of aggressions that transpired are as low as 20%"

The Captain spoke over as his mecha's leaned down to gaze as Cheat and then turn his gaze to pest "You two wouldn't know anything about this false flag attack would you?"

As the Captain waited for his reply the IMC task forces secured the area and began to escort V.I.P's with black bags over their head in order to secure their identity, large automated sentries were placed in various checkpoints and supported by fire teams of futuristic looking soldiers.

@_creed_: @nano_swarm:

The Urban Trickster shot a glance at Pest, giving him a single nod, but holding up his hand so as to say "wait."

Without any movement beyond a silent touch of a button in his glove, he activated a recording device in his helmet, the camera hidden behind the bulbous right goggle. His belt also began recording the audio, intent on saving it for later. If the IMC were hiding some sort of ulterior motive, he'd need a way to prove he was in the right.

"False flag attack?" Cheat said, raising his eyebrow. Unflinching, he stared up at the mech, the IMC logo rotating in its palm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a number of people being herded into dropships by the heavily armed militia, the black sacks on their heads concealing their identities. His eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. Where would they be taken? There was nothing to suggest that they weren't simply being kidnapped right from under their noses. What if their operation had been planned in advance, and his trick to cut down on crime had merely coincided with their countdown?

"First of all, just saying you're the IMC tells me nothing. You're not military, so there's no reason for me to trust you. Hell, I don't even trust the regular military. Second, what makes you think anyone was responsible for the riot? My investigation lead me to discover it was a synchronized operation, but why does there have to be a point? Just seemed like some splinter group within the Brotherhood was looking to cause some chaos. Why don't you tell us where you're taking these..." he gestured to the men with black sacks on their skulls, "VIPs...and we'll verify that they stay safe. For all we know, you could just be kidnapping innocent people."

Now that the situation was out of his hands, he'd grown more serious. His paycheck was no longer in question, but before, there were no civilians in danger, giving him free reign to mess around. Now, with these unknown men and women being herded into the dropships, possibly against their will, his attitude would need to shift.

Things definitely just got knocked into twelfth gear, he thought, staring down the mechanized captain.

@cheat: @_creed_: @nano_swarm:

Noon

"I hate New York."

"Lost a perfectly good molar here. Well, along with my title."

The disgraced once-champion secluded himself to his own 'active meditation' in the corner of his boxing gym. One hour, three times a day. Never more, never less, just enough to contemplate his troubles and still maintain his form. The bills, the loan sharks and survival. These abstract constants of his life, they became clearer in the sound of bandaged hammers tendering the 100lbs of sand and rubbish canned in patchwork leather.

"I really miss my tooth."

Usually, the drum-like beat was enough for him to find solutions and connections, shortcuts around the dangers presented to his miserable existence. But tonight? Sweating his ass off in a rundown joint felt insufficient, discording even. The dangers were more immediate, he'd need longer more exotic katas to ease his frustration.

"It's what this f*&kin' city does. It coils around your life like a snake and digs it's teeth into your flesh while you try your damned hardest to make it. Leaving you two choices: either let it slowly kill you or get up and build an immunity to this bullshit."

"Yeah, New York hits hard."

So the Harlem Hurricane gathers things and heads to the man, Monroe. He's his 'assistant', a fancy word for a pal who doubles as a door clerk. He tells Monroe he needs to get some air, but two corners into New York's alleyway labyrinth and he already dons the cowl with a manic smile.

"So I learned to hit harder."

Minutes Later

It's been a few weeks now that Matt took on the mantle of a golden ager, Gothic City's Black Paw. A personal idol, a hero he's always read about. Given his depressed nature, this almost gives him a thrill. Prowling from rooftop to rooftop, whooping ass at ever corner with low lighting. It was 'active meditation' and freedom of action, vigilantism that made a difference. Reluctantly, he's lingered around his neighborhood whilst mustering a small reputation, but today the need forces him into a debut at Times Square.

He leaps from the edge of the roof into the last floor of a brownstone. Decimating the window.

"What the f*&k was--GUuURgh!", one firm jab to the jugular and the sentry tumbles down ratting through his teeth, another to the dome induces good night's sleep. Black Paw stands tall as his gaze ascends to survey the apartment just to find that he's out numbered 5 to 1 and outgunned AKs to hand-wraps. Any other way would be disrespectful.

Both parties spring into action. The crooks launching a barrage of bullets and Paw lunching a table with his mighty feet to incapitate two of the attackers but also to create room for himself. Sprinting and using the wrecks of the used table he jumps into the air to launch a spinning kick at the closest perp. He manages to cringe just before losing most of his front teeth, but Black Paw continues his circuit into a roll to avoid further gunfire.

Apartment shot to hell, papers and bits of furnishings flying through the air he comes under the feet of his next prey and, exterting the force of his prominent upper musculature, launches himself foot first into the crooks chin to buy some time. Landing, he doesn't waste time and bolts to his next target, flooring him with the enormity of his right hook and his partner suffers a nigh identical fate. Now just one remains. However, closing in the gangster gets shot. By whom? The dazzled perp who got his chin remodelled, a honest mistake given his current position. One still remains.

"Stay back! STAY THE F*&K BACK! WE'RE TAKING THIS CITY, FREAK!"

The crook yells whilst barely clutching his weapon, still experiencing the aftermath Matt introducing his heel his poor chin. A fact that Black Paw analytically notices, as he's done with opponents over the years. Through peripheral brilliance and situational ingenuity, he also notices that there is a suspended lamp between the two and a window behind his lone opponent.

"Too bad kid...", he apologizes with a diabolical grin perplexing his scruffy facade. "...she ain't mine to give.", recruiting his functional bulk of muscular superiority he lunges upwards as his foe hastly prepares to shoot, but one swing later the mook is evicted to the streets.

The titanic silhouette of Black Paw could be seen from streets illuminated by the last flickering of the lamp that he broke with his weight.

"I hate New York."

The captain's hologram changed as a series of text appeared "We're a private security organization known as the Independent Mutant Corps, we have legal rights to protect are mutant employers from outside threats" the mech's arm gestured "that's why we're only controlling this district until we can evac them to a safer place" the floating text moved closer to Cheat "we are with in our legal rights, pardon our sudden appearance but we have to take steps to ensure their safety'

The hologram projection turned off "If you want more information you're going to have to send a form up to your commander in chief or other organization, I wouldn't bother though. We'll be moving out soon" the people were carefully seated in the drop ships as they began to take off

"I don't have all day to inform you about who we are and what we do, but" he gestured to Delta "she could answer any questions you have" he turned his back as he began to walk away slowly as the I.M.C. forces began to leave just as quickly as they arrived "if we were really kidnapping people you'd expect some sort of resistance, or simply we would have just attacked you with out probably cause"

@nano_swarm: @matthew_cassidy:

Hm. I'll look into you later, he thought, standing still in the middle of the street. Pest had vanished, but Cheat had no doubt he'd be seeing more of him. All around, the IMC soldiers moved on without so much as casting him a second glance. He dropped his crossed arms to his sides, his cape folding around them, draping over his shoulders and giving him the appearance of a dark sheet. His hand dropped to his waist, fingers wrapping around a gun-like handle. But it was no firearm he wielded, but a grappling hook, clipped to the side of his harness.

Detaching the actual device from his belt, he angled it upwards, squeezing the trigger and watching as a tiny bolt flew from within the folds of his shadowy cape. It soared high into the sky, cable trailing behind, until it latched to a hanging pole, latching to the end and growing taut. A second later, Cheat was gone, pulled smoothly from where he stood in the square up into the night. Practically gliding on the air currents, he swung up to the rooftops, his harness allowing him to keep his balance. With another simple squeeze, the hook detached, the line retracting back into his gun. Alighting upon the stone roof, he drew his hands back into the folds of his cloak, walking quickly across the building.

Better check to see if any stragglers got away from that robot. "She" was pretty efficient, but there might've been a few who bolted before the thing could get it's shot off.

He put a single knee up on the edge of the rooftop, drawing a gloved finger up to the side of his cowl. It landed upon a small button, activated with a simple triple tap. His fingers grasped the small knob, the telescopic goggles finally put to use. He could regulate the zoom through his glove, without touching the side of his head, but it never felt as smooth. Scanning the streets from his small overlook, he grinned smugly as he picked up on almost nothing. Already, civilians were moving back into what had previously been a danger zone, the relatively minor crisis easily averted. Eventually, his eyes passed over a tiny alleyway, a flickering streetlamp catching his attention. Zooming in, he caught a glimpse of someone not unlike himself taking on a group of the Brahma wannabes.

No way...this guy? He's old school. Too old school.

He'd heard of the Black Paw, a Golden Age vigilante who'd taken to the streets to dish out hot justice to anyone that threatened the innocent. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed that someone knew had taken inspiration from him, or perhaps even replaced him in an official capacity. He was huge, too, a brute of a man who dispatched his opponents with casual ease. Cheat would just need to see this up close.

Extending his hand from within his cape once more, he pulled the trigger, firing the grapnel far down into the city, where it wrapped tightly around a flagpole. Leaping from his vantage point atop the building, he swung his legs out, reveling in the thrill of freefall. His cape swept up behind him, blowing about in the wind. He arced through the air, retracting the hook in his right hand and simultaneously firing another one in from his left. The wire shot out of the handheld cannon and grew tight on his belt, swinging him further along down another city block. Retracting both, he began to fall, only to pull a small wire over his shoulder.

Cheat's parachute billowed up from underneath his cape, catching him in the air and allowing him to float to safety. The wiring within crumpled as soon as his feet touched the ground in a nearby alley, a complex series of magnets actually pulling the thing back together. Soon, it smoothly retracted back into the small container on his back, utterly indistinguishable from his cape. He walked around a parked car, skulking through the alley and coming into the small square. Across the street, he saw the very end of the fight, taking a seat on the hood of the automotive just before the last terrorist was tossed into the streets from the apartment by a well-placed swing.

One leg crossed up over the other, Cheat clapped as the man hit the ground, applauding the move as he would a performance or a musical recital.

"Nice work, man. Truly. I totally missed these guys over by Broadway," he said, standing up. Walking over to the streetlamp, he shot a glance down at the thug, who was writhing on the ground. Idly producing one of his stun guns, he shot a small wire into the thug's back, shocking him and knocking him out for the night. Pulling the small taser back into his cape, he put his hands on his hips in the classic "heroic" pose, looking back up to the Black Paw.

"Wanna chat?"