Emitter: Franklin
Date: October 15, 2010
Participants: Arcane, Daybreak, Spectrum
Summary: Sickle, one of the expatriate Russian supervillains, robs a bank. But for what reason?
David Sunderland, Leigh's dad, invited her downtown for a fancy dinner; he's celebrating landing a big contract and wants to see his daughter. Friends were over, and so got dragged along. The car Dad sent for them looked like it could house a family of five until the kids grew up and moved out into minivans; a bar, flatscreen, wireless access, the whole works. Right now, they've left the winding streets of suburbia for the concrete canyons of downtown San Angeles, gleaming skyscrapers rising to the right and left. Traffic is a little heavy, and they're running somewhat late; Dad's called to say he's waiting and don't mind the time - he's good.
Leigh's marveling a little at the car. Not that her dad doesn't show his love for his kids frequently, and even, on occasion, extravagantly, but… this is something else. "I really don't know what's going on," she informs Jacob and Linus. "Unless he's planning on divorcing mom and wants me on his side before he spills. But I REALLY don't think so." He better not.
Inside the fancy car, Linus Tate finds himself sitting on his hands, eyes half-closed in a calming personal meditation. It's mostly him stopping himself in an attempt to touch everything inside, because to him this is pretty spiff. His head turns to regard Leigh as she speaks up. "If he's inviting us along for that, Leigh, that's just a bit awkward." Understatement. "But, I admit I have to admire the wheels."
Jacob is definitely fascinated by the things the car offers, the flatscreen in particular draws his attention, "Our TV in our *apartment* isn't that good." He looks back to Leigh then and asks, "Does he know about me? I mean, what I can do? If so, I especially don't think he'd want a telepath along if he was planning something sneaky like that."
The chauffeur is of course behind the rolled-up partition, unable to hear anything in the back, and he hasn't said anything since ushering people inside and asking them if the temperature was OK.
Leigh glances around to make sure that the driver can't hear, then leans in to murmur, "I don't tell my parents that I have any friends like me. They'd freak out. 'Til I'm eighteen, they CAN'T know I'm Daybreak. Or they'll, like, send me to a girl's school in Austria."
This elicits a slight smile from Linus, as he brings up his hands and folds them into his lap. "I remember you telling me," he says. Obviously, he knows Leigh's secret, at least. "If there's one thing I've been good at, it's keeping secrets, especially lately."
Jacob nods quickly to Leigh, and says, "I swear, I won't tell him. But, one look at my eyes and he'll realize I'm not normal. I don't hide what I am. I'll totally pretend that you never said you're not totally ordinary, though."
"I'm not asking you to hide anything, Jacob," says Leigh. "Just… you know… let me play the ditz cheerleader and pretend I don't have a clue." Leigh knows how her parents feel about her mutation — they just don't want her getting herself in trouble. She's determined, is all.
"You do it well, Leigh," Linus replies with a flash of grin. "You had me fooled, I admit. That time in the hallway. Because you yelled at me a lot." He turns his head, embarrassed, to the window. "If I'm underdressed…"
Jacob nods a little again to Leigh, relaxing again as he says, "Cool, thanks." He looks to Linus and says, "Well, if you are, we both are, so at least you won't be alone." He gives a bit of a grin as he says that, but obviously partly serious, too.
Downtown is the heart of the city, and so it's an attractive area for the up-and -coming, and the already-there. And the criminal, of course. As the limo comes to a silent stop at a stoplight, the youths inside can see but not hear (thanks to the posh soundproofing) the side of a building bulge outwards, then blow out in a diamond-like rain of shattered safety glass and plastic. It settles like a glittering fog over cars and busses in the traffic stream ahead of them, and a figure floats there framed by the hole he's left. He's dressed in red and gold, a streaming red scarf off his neck, a glowing hand-sickle held in one hand.
"Oh, this so isn't good," Leigh mutters to herself as she watches the man with the glowing sickle floating there. The driver is TOTALLY going to spill to her dad when she takes off. Okay. Time to play the actress, Leigh. "OHMIGOD!!" she shrieks, loud enough for the driver to hear even through the plexiglas barrier. "Run for your lives!" And with that said she pushes the door of the limo open in a fake panic and is racing for the nearest alleyway, intent on finding a safe place to change.
Even inside the fancy car, Linus flinches a little as the window explodes. "Jeez," he says. "Five bucks says it's a Communist screed." He doesn't talk as loudly as Leigh, and he has to stifle a snicker as he realizes what she's up to. "Get down!" he says, and ducks into the footwell of the seat, close to the floor, whispering harshly to activate his Invisibility spell.
Jacob quickly jumps out of the car after Leigh, but only goes a few feet. He stops, looking up to the floating figure. Reaching out with his mind on the one voice in the crowd that is the floating figure, he does a subtle surface scan of the man's mind, trying to figure out what he's doing.
You paged Jacob with '|This is too easy. They'll cover the getaway themselves, and we get the rep of being 'good guys'. Piotr was right; these people are pretty damn gullible.'
Once the car door is opened, the amazingly loud sounds of the city pour in. "Miss Sunderland!" the driver exclaims, even as he pulls to the curb. He's too slow, though, and the teens are gone before he's even started opening the door.
Meanwhile, the red-and-gold figure floats there, framed in the destruction of what people can now see is the Maritime Bank Building. "Bah! These leeches have fattened themselves on your misery! They deserve to be taken down!" the man yells, voice rolling and booming over the noise of the street like a loudspeaker. And he tosses open a bag of money that flies open and a bloom of green mirrors the earlier shower of light. Cars screech to a halt, one rams into a light pole while another hits a fire hydrant, resulting in a spray of pressurized water. The noise level skyrockets.
Golden disco-clad, Daybreak swings around the corner, her costume reflecting and splitting the evening sunlight, sending a spray of golden glitter every which way. "Dude, I don't like AIG any more than the next girl, but what'd Maritime ever do to you?" She draws a bead on the man in the red scarf with the golden sickle. Linus is so totally right. She's sure of it. "Stand down or I will shoot. Promise with a cherry on top."
Using the time Daybreak gives him, Linus uses a few other spells. One activates his amulet to protect himself, which he feels he's going to need, and to change his clothing with a short incantation. This done, he flies out of the car. Phew. "She means it," he says, while invisible. "We could save a lot of trouble if you listen to what she says." In his head, he's keeping an eye out for innocents in the way.
Jacob moves to the nearest cover quickly, even if it happens to be a crashed car. Glancing towards the car to make sure nobody's *too* hurt inside, he sends to the others, « He's trying to get a rep as a good guy while covering his escape. He's working with someone named Piotr, not sure if they're here. »
Sickle grimaces; he's a young man but with cool, even severe features. He doesn't wear a mask, either. Floating, he turns towards Daybreak and shakes his head. "Little girl," he says in a thick Russian accent, "You do not want to be here. Go home and play with dolls," he snarls. The unseen male voice, though, causes him to hesitate and frown. A flare of light from his sickle runs up and down the blade.
Below the group, dozens of people stream into the streets, grabbing for the cascade of $20.00 bills blowing in the afternoon breeze, leaping, jumping, running.. and cursing, and hitting, and shoving…
"Heard of you," Arcane intones, trying to sound all serious even while invisible. "One of a pair of Russian heroes. Media-government built for massive Russian Q-ratings and public approval. 'Cept you went rogue." He stars chanting, and mystic tendrils of energy sprout up around Sickle to try and hold him in place. The energy bands tighten, and they don't completely stop him, but slow his movements. "But, you're part of a matched pair, so…oh crap. Eyes open, guys! He has a partner!"
You paged Jacob with 'You barely get this gloating sensation, as Arcane ensnares him; he plans on cutting out, then attacking'
Jacob stays behind cover for the moment, just looking up to the man. «Watch out,» he sends to Arcane and Daybreak as he senses an impending attack, ducking slightly but staying where he can see the floating man.
"Trust me, 'big boy'," says Daybreak, an offended growl coloring her voice, "I got over playing with dolls a long time ago." And, having already targeted him, she lets loose with a brilliant flash of light, catching him full in the face. "I leave my enemies like I leave my fans," she says, satisfied with herself. "Seeing stars."
Leigh does not quite have this banter thing down yet.
Sickle is ready, but then the teens pull off a coordinated attack - he's hit with glowing magic bonds, which he smirks at, his weapon already ready for something like this.. but Leigh's attack catches him off guard, and he's blinded. Snarling, he lashes out with the glimmering sickle, and Arcane's bond part like threads. "My sickle can cut through anything! Including annoying American super children," he growls. He surges forward and lashes out, but he's still trapped by some of the strands he didn't cut — Arcane's net is tattered and torn but it has held, at least for now.
His sickle cut goes wild and lops off a section of solid stone cornice like it was paper-mache. It tumbles down to smash into powder amidst the growling riot as people fight for Free Money below the floating superteens.
"Blah blah blah," Arcane says. Man, Aleksei /did/ warn him about these guys. "Cold War's been over, y'know," he says, then goes silent, and sighs at the crows of citizens after money. "Guys," he says to the crowd, but it's low enough to be mostly to himself. "Stop," he says, as more mystic bindings come up to separate the crowd. "You're making our country look bad in front of the supervillains. C'mon…"
Jacob looks up to the floating man as he goes for Arcane, and his eyes glow brightly all of a sudden. The man would feel him entering his mind, and then a wave of telepathic power, a signal so intense it can't properly be processed, slams into the man's mental defenses. Though only part of the attack gets through, it's enough to cause a headache.
"Blah blah blah, I'm an outdated loser. I'd say 'news flash', 'cept it doesn't really count when the news is older than me. The Soviet Union's already in the history books. Get a new shtick!" Leigh wants this over with — her dad's going to be worried, and if some reporter catches her on camera, he is SO putting two and two together. She's already blinded the guy — now she lashes out with a stream of intense, focused heat. "Come on! Go DOWN!"
Sickle writhes as the unseen mental barrage hits him, then Daybreak blasts him with intense heat. Heat: not good for him; this city is already like a tropical hell for him, but he grits his teeth and rolls with the blow. He surges forwards in the bonds and lashes out blindly, the gleaming sickle whiffing over Arcane's head. Then the man turns in the mystic bonds and finishes slashing the last of them to ribbons. Free at last!
"Enough of this," Arcane finally says. The citizens are protected, and while his friends are taking shots at Sickle, the young mystic has been doing what he can. He raises an invisible hand, saying a harsh chant to unleash a bolt of myscit energy that strikes the Russian…and does nothing. "Ah, hell."
Jacob quickly dashes to another car, as people start to search the one near him for money. His attention is soon back up to the man, and when he breaks free, he reaches in to trigger his pain receptors. All of them. At once. It doesn't last long, but should definitely be disorienting for a time.
Sickle certainly didn't seem to much enjoy the last heat blast she fired off. So let's try that again. "If you can't stand the heat, get out of San Angeles," she announces, and then -FREEE-OW!- another blast of sizzling energy flies from her hands to collide with the Soviet supervillain. Her dad, capitalist pig that he is, would be proud if he weren't going to be so pissed off at her for heroing against his orders.
"That's it," Arcane urges. "Pour it on!" He floats up a bit to get a better bearing, but with the hits Sickle has recently taken, the staggering villain makes for an easy target, and the mystic lets loose with another barrage of mystic might. Sickle grunts in pain, the shot from Arcane apparently getting through his defenses, which knocks the Russian villain senseless, and he falls forward onto his face.
A voice sounds close to Leigh. "We should get out of here," Arcane says. "We are late for dinner as it is."
"And my dad is NEVER going to buy that I ran from a supervillain," says Daybreak with a sigh. "Unless I convince him it was an act for the benefit of you guys. C'mon — let's go make sure the chauffeur's not scraping the gutters for twenty-dollar bills."
Sickle, already falling from being taken by Daybreak's attack, falls back into the bank lobby, driven by Arcane's mystic force blast. Security swarms him, careful around that deadly glimmering sickle, and cheers erupt from the bank patrons as the teen heroes streak off.
Robert the Chauffeur has in fact padded his paycheck this month, along with several dozen others, most of whom are cited by the cops as they're being pried out of Arcane's glowing bonds later on.
