The Long Bright Dark IC

[3SecondCultist]

Prologue - A Long Week (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIEV4V4PIUQ)

The elevator sped through the earth. There were only two floors: the one on which the two men got on, and the one on which the two men disembarked. They had been riding down for a few minutes now. The space within the lift was filled with a comfortable, familiar silence. The two men had been working here for some time, and they had long since dispensed with the usual trivialities of small talk. Neither of them was eager to know that much about the other. They were here to do a job, and that was all.

After some time, the elevator came to a complete stop. After the scanner had verified that neither of them were carrying any contaminants – a redundant security measure they had to go through before they had even got on the lift – the doors opened with a pneumatic hiss, as the armored locks on the portal disengaged. The air beyond smelled faintly of bleach and other cleaning agents, remnants of the latest cleaning crew. The hallway was empty. They were the only ones scheduled on rotation today.

"So," the first man – the younger of the two, larger and bearded – said, "you think he'll be in this week?"

"Nah," replied the second. "The last time I saw him, he was still pretty into that lawyer chick in 18B. My guess is, he's taking his time with her." Both of the men walked as they chatted, scanning their ID badges and fingerprints at the nearby console before continuing on. Another redundancy.

"Really? I'd have thought he’d be bored by now."

"Tell you what: I'll put down ten thousand that he won't be back before the end of October. She's exactly his type, you know."

"You've got yourself a deal." As the first man spoke, the second man pulled out his notebook and started a new heading – 1A – and today’s date. They had arrived at the first door.

"Please… help…" The words were little more than a whisper, echoing over the speakers built into the cell’s lining. Through the miniature camera on the wall, the two men watched the figure in the box pacing, banging his bloody fists on the walls. He always knew when they were coming; Thinkers tended to do that.

Not that his gift helped him at all in here.

"Looks like 1A's a bit jumpy. Go for full chloroform?"

"Yeah, why not," the second man said as he cranked a dial on the control panel, and watched as the cell filled with gas and the subject fell unconscious. That done, the two men entered the cell. All talk between them had ceased: there were vitals to check, IVs to monitor, and diets to maintain. And they had at least a dozen more patients to see before the end of the day.

It was going to be a long week.

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJt7gNi3Nr4)

Rain fell on the city of Toronto. April showers doused the corner of Queen and Dupont, on what should have been a bustling Friday night. Lanes of neon signs, advertisements, promising booze and other pleasures lit every corner in this part of town. The streets were largely empty; most of the would-be partyers had decided to stay in tonight. There were a few interested customers, sure, but nothing like the normal traffic at this time of week. Most of the other shops around here had already locked up for the night, leaving dark windows and closed blinds as empty witnesses to the slick concrete wilderness.

But if there was one bar that was always packed on Friday nights, it was Sidewinder Steve’s. Tonight was fight night, and nobody wanted to miss that.

The arena had been specially built two full stories below street level. They needed the space. Only those in Steve's circle of trust - or who could demonstrably prove they were a cape - had access to the facilities below. They were then shown downstairs, to the viewing galleries. The bar floor was split between an upper level, with balcony view, and the lower stands, where you got an up close look at the action. Steve's people wove in and out of the crowd, selling food and refreshments. Tables in the back had already been set aside for capes to talk shop, make deals, or trade tips about the live. As Sidewinder Steve's was the closest thing in Toronto to 'Switzerland', it was a natural place for heroes and villains alike to take a load off and relax, even network.

"Step right up and place your bets! We've got a live one tonight, a two on two match!"

Standing on the betting table, not too far from the ring, was Sidewinder Steve himself. A corpulent, tattooed man, he towered over most of the costumed patrons. His deep voice carried far, and had more than a little musicality to it. He didn't bother to disguise his ugly face: there was no keeping his persona under a mask. The rumors were, he used to be a supervillain from Vancouver. However, there was another rumor that he used to be a part of one of the Protectorate teams before his identity was compromised in an operation gone sour. Nobody really knew the truth. In some cases, the mystery was probably better than the man. Still, he'd knocked out his fair share of unruly elements from this very bar by himself. Nobody wanted to get on Steve's bad side. Beside him stood a rail-thin woman with a shaved head and numerous piercings, who glared out into the crowd.

Right behind Steve, the electric chain fence of the ring crackled and hissed as customers got too close, or spilled their beer. Built at the same time as the bar itself, the octagonal arena had been tinker-designed to minimize outside interference. Most powers didn't penetrate the fence (going in or out), and it tended to violently zap those that tried anyways with eerily good precision. It was usually an excellent deterrent for would-be cheaters who had a plant in the crowd. A greasy man in overalls was busy fiddling with one of the panels in one of the corners. Nobody knew his name, but everyone called him 'the Electrician'.

And within the ring itself stood five individuals. One of them, in the middle, wore a dark grey jumpsuit with several dried bloodstains, and glasses over weatherworn, middle-aged features. The other four were at opposite ends of the space, having just arrived from the cordoned off prep area. The combatants.

"In one corner, we have... Blister and Gale!" The first of the two was a short man in what looked like a faux-leather jacket with ripped off sleeves, revealing a number of ugly scars. He wore what appeared to be a bike helmet, albeit one that had been marked up and badly scratched in several places. His partner was an athletic looking woman, who wore a similar looking jacket and black jeans, although with a nondescript grey hood and mask over her face. Her features were almost completely in shadow.

"And in the other... Paragon and Parcae! It's going to be a knock-down, drag out fight tonight, folks! Are you ready for this?" Steve's words were met with a roar of approval from the crowd.

Okay, so I've set the first scene! Please take the time to introduce your character and what they're doing at Sidewinder Steve's. Everyone but GameofChampions and n0ble can be walking among the capes, listening for rumors, placing bets, or just watching the spectacle. This is a chance for me to get to know your character a bit better. I'm operating under the assumption that none of your capes have met, but are arriving at Sidewinder Steve's for the weekly event (this can be your first time at the bar, or you can be a patron who's been before). Expect to see a few faces in the crowd as well, but I want some input from you guys first.

Right now, Paragon and Parcae are going to be up against Blister and Gale in tonight's headliner match. Champions and n0ble, you guys can write a scene in your 'prep room' going over tactics if you like. You can assume you've known each other before this fight.

[n0ble]

Locker Room

Just another op. Milo slid on the last part of his uniform, the right fingerless glove. He balled the hand up into a fist with an audible cracking sound before shrugging himself up to a rigid standing position. Got some heavy backup if things go south. He looked over at his teammate for the night. His tone of voice came across as terse, with a vague sense of hostility, though it didn't seem directed at her. It had a slightly muffled tint to it from behind his mask: "Could gang one of them. Hit either one hard and fast to take them out early. Then focus on the other." Milo suddenly found himself wishing that he'd read up on his two opponents before coming here. He'd been pouring over the PRT wiki since coming home, trying to re-familiarize himself with the cape scene.

Cant be helped.


Arena

It was a den of sin if ever there was one. He let a small sigh as the man yelled out his name. Sounded better in my head. Wish I had a gun. Or a knife He sized up the other two. The man with the spiked helmet had looked comfortable in this type of setting. Too comfortable. Plus it looked like he was sneering at the mention of "Paragon", and that made Milo's head buzz with anger. He balled up his hands into fists until he felt his knuckles pop before silently thanking Him for this opportunity.

[Rofltrollcopter]

University of Toronto - St George Campus

Jordan was starting to become desperate. He was running low on cash, and finding a place to stay where they didn't ask for ID wasn't easy or cheap. That was the reason he decided to go to Sidewinder Steves. He was hoping to find out what opportunities there will available.

A brief internet search revealed Steve's policy of only allowing other parahumans access to the lower part of the bar. It was sensible, but it put Jordan in a difficult situation. His body was vulnerable when he used his power, and the concept of leaving his body near the most unpleasant people in the city was very unappealing.

That was the reason Jordan had made his way over to the St. George Campus of the University of Toronto. It was close to both Danforth and Queen Street, and in the midst of exam season in April, one more youth would not be noticed. He was dressed in a hoody and baggy pants, as he shuffled his way into the library. He went straight to the basement, and found himself a study cubicle. He pulled a random Stats textbook off the shelf and laid it on the desk. He also reached into his backpack and put on a skimask. Once he was certain that everyone nearby was distracted, he placed his head on the open textbook, rested his arms near his head to hide the skimask, and called upon his Power.

In spirit form, Justice made his way straight into the ground beneath the building. Having oriented himself beforehand, he made his way to Sidewinder Steves. If he got lost or needed to re-orient himself, he tilted his head back and just let the tip of his eyeballs poke through the surface. At least one of the benefits of his spectral form was that he never needed to worry about muscle cramps.

Fight Night

In the underground room of Sidewinder Steve's, a spectral figure appeared as it moved through the wall. It was green and translucent, dressed in baggy pants, a hoody, and the face was covered by a ski mask. A keen observer would deduce that the lack of effort in his costume either meant the parahuman was a new trigger, or didn't buy into that aspect of cape culture. The blurriness of the spectral form made exact details hard to make out, but it looked like a young man. The Spirit of Justice had arrived.

If Sidewinder Steve's had a cover charge, Jordan didn't bother paying it. Not that he would have been able to in his current state. He hovered about a foot off the ground, and directed his attention to the cage. He watched everything with a dispassionate air, for the moment he was content to just observe the cage and the rest of the capes in the room.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

It had not been an easy decision, visiting Sidewinder Steve's. Bootstrap could have come up with any number of reasons not to - the chance of getting caught, being accosted, drawing attention to herself, and some niggling part of her mind that reminded her she wasn't old enough to drink. None of her information on the bar could be confirmed, given that most of it was gathered from forums or the TPL's archived newpapers, and she made a habit of avoiding other Capes wherever possible. Heroes, Villains, it didn't matter, because an encounter with any of them meant a greater chance of being left for dead.

But the fact of the matter was that she'd mastered most tech that was readily available. Power conduits, lights, cameras, personal computers, car systems...but there was much more that she couldn't. Things that she couldn't learn about just by breaking into a supermarket or an Apple store. Her street smarts were limited, if she was being generous, so she needed somebody or somewhere to learn more about where the best tech was kept. Sidewinder Steve's was her best bet for learning, at the least, rumors of where to start.

First, she had to make a plan. She knew where Sidewinder Steve's was, so she made a point of learning about nearby electrical systems she'd be able to take advantage of, as well as routes to escape through. She'd have to make notes of nearby vehicles on the night itself - depending on who she annoyed, she could steal one easily enough. She'd have to leave Texel at home, minimize losses if she was attacked, and attending in costume was obvious. Once the necessary precautions were taken, she decided to line her pockets with cash - bribery is the busy woman's diplomacy.

Bootstrap attended Sidewinder Steve's in full costume, exactly as her plan went, and was met immediately with distaste. Drunken idiots, everywhere. Bloodsports on the floor below. People with unimaginable, unpredictable powers all around her. She had to take a deep breath and remember her plan. If she played chess in her head, nobody would be able to distract her...or read her thoughts. She and her father would sometimes play it in their heads, when a board wasn't available, or when manners prevented them from whipping one out. The memory almost made her smile, before she remembered to move her pawn to G-3.

Three thoughts ran in rapid succession once she saw the fence. Can I hack it? I shouldn't try. Pawn to B-6. She wrinkled her nose at the bloodstain-covered gentleman, slunk towards the bar, and realized that she had no idea what to order. So she waited for the bartender to notice her, instead.

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Parallel had arrived at Steve's the better part of an hour before the fight began-she hadn't missed one of the Friday spectaculars for a few months , and certainly wasn't intending to start now. She'd seen most of the cape's involved before- and Blister was a big enough name that looking him up had actually been fairly informative-but never in the ring at the same time.

Arriving in full costume-taking off a heavy coat and pulling on her mask as she entered the bar-the tall young woman murmured a familiar greeting to the bouncer and headed downstairs. As she walked up to the bar, she looked rather like she'd taken a wrong turn at a masquerade ball. Tall and slim, with a build that just barely qualify as athletic, she wore an immaculately tailored suit-silk gloves to cover her fingerprints and surprisingly sturdy shoes her only apparent concessions to practicality. She wore her dark brown hair long-just reaching her shoulder-and covered her face with a golden 3-quarters Venetian mask Spending a few minutes starting at the odds, she mapped the consequences of using her power to predetermine tonight's winner. Deciding it was too risky-she liked the place, and if the punk next to Steve wasn't some sort of Thinker she'd eat her hat-she put down a couple hundred on the local team and ordered a drink-her mask left enough of her mouth exposed that drinking was possible, if a learned skill.

Parallel spent the time until the fight began idly imagining the club descending into chaos-her calling out some nervous new bruiser, Steve grabbing someone by the throat and bashing their head against the wall, the bookie running for the door with all the bets, and so on-no revelations, but an excellent way to distract herself on public transit or in waiting rooms. Besides, sometimes she saw strangers with interesting reactions, and they were usually worth the time to puzzle out.

As the combatants entered the ring, she leaned forward against the balcony, eager not to miss a moment of the action. As they were introduced, she stared at them in turn, seeing half a dozen possible openings and their immediate consequences. Sipping an overpriced cocktail, she waited for the action to begin with bated breath.

[GameOfChampions]

Locker Room

Natalie goes through her normal pre-battle routine 'Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.' this was her ninth fight at Steve's and she had lost count of how many other non powered fights she had gotten into but whenever she had the chance she always took a moment to calm herself down and prepare. As much as she loved to fight she always liked to be prepared for it mentally. She breathes out and then looks up in response to Paragons question, they had fought together a couple of times in the past and while he was a little preachy he was a great fighter and a good person. She starts to wrap some bandages around her fist in preparation for the battle as she thinks "Ya that sounds good, I fast ball special you in and then I'll take the other person out?"

She had been in casual clothes with just her mask on when she arrived but while in the locker room took the chance to start to change into her costume, the tank top she had been wearing was the same as the one in her costume so that wasn't a problem and her pants were covering a pair of bike shorts so that when she changed she didn't give the religious Paragon a heart attack. She then puts on her black jeans, utility belt, utility belt, and the trademark red blazer with the mesh lining. She starightens with a smile as she finishes getting in costume 'Ahh thats more like it.' there was a part of her that had started to feel more at home in costume then out of it and she was doing nothing to change that.

Arena

Natalie grinned as she entered the arena and her heart started to pump faster, she loved this part and she started to bounce on her feet as the count down. She pumps her fist into the air as Steve calls out her name and plays to the crowd. She wasn't the most popular cape to fight in the pits but she liked to think of herself as a favorite among the masses, however true that may be...

As Steve calls out the ready she lets her power wash over herself and reaches mentally to the power she senses within Paragon and as she 'copies' it she can feel herself grow able to effect the densities of non organic matter in her radius. She had used Paragons power before and she was somewhat familer with her 'shakerfied' version, as she used her power she also reached out to Gale and 'copied' her power as well. While she had a rough idea of what she had copied she was not nearly as familiar with it so she would have to be more careful trying to use it. She leaned over to Paragon and whispered to him "Fastball special coming up, you good with Blister?"

[n0ble]

Locker Room

He nodded in confirmation of the plan. "Dunno what these people do. Got any idea?" Parcae was a sloppy fighter by his reckoning, more of brawler than what he'd term a fighter. But she was an effective brawler. That zone she made didn't hurt either. He said a silent prayer and turned to Parcae, waiting for an information she could offer.

Arena

Milo narrowed his eyes at the ugly man with the spiked helmet. A faint, incredibly slim smile appeared on his face. Not that anyone could tell behind his mask. He rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck in anticipation. "Yeah. I'm good with Blister." His body responded to the notion. Each movement felt lighter, much light, even though he tried not to move too much to give it away. It was hard not to with all the blood pounding in his ears. He could barely hear the roar of the crowd or Sidewinder's preening. Then Parcae said three words that cut through all the blood pounding in his ears. Three of his favourite words to hear when fighting in this den of sin. Fast ball special. Without taking his eyes off Blister Milio gave a curt nod in the affirmative.

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night

"Combatants ready... begin!" Nobody needed to tell any of the four capes in the ring twice, as the two pairs immediately began to circle each other, sizing up their competition and readying their powers. Blister seemed focused on the terrain, doing nothing to step in closer. A well-known parahuman cage fighter, everyone knew his power to create 'bubbles' in space and then pop them, through which temporary duplicates of him emerged. The trick of it was that the bubbles were nearly impossible to spot until somebody ran into one, which tended to be rather painful when they popped. His partner Gale, on the other hand, was a relative unknown, new to the city. Her name seemed to suit her, as her fists were suddenly wreathed with a slight blurring. The ring was struck with a violent wind, which rattled the iron of the cage. It also sent the now-light Paragon flying like a leaf, although his power kicked it at just the right moment to prevent him from travelling too far. The crowd gave a gasp as the miniature windstorm ripped through the stadium.

Up in the stands, most of the vendors had already made the first rounds. Several of the observers had already started talking among themselves. Despite the opening, the odds clearly favored Parcae and Paragon, since the former was fairly well-known here after nine fights, and the latter had struck many as a seasoned fighter. Nevertheless, fans of Blister followed him wherever he went, and there was a reasonably sized contingent here tonight betting the other way. Gale had been the wild card, and seeing the first effects of her power in action had already made some money change hands tonight. Where she sat, Cynthia saw that the mood in here was fairly tense. A spread of futures - all of them angry, some of them even violent - extended from the fight happening below. She would need to concentrate to see further, however.

"What'll it be, darlin'?" the voice of the bartender cut through Cynthia's reverie, as he pushed aside a few customers to position himself behind the bar and tend to the patrons who wanted a drink. By now, Mia was next in the queue. "Hurry it up now sweetheart, I've got another keg to tap." Looking over, Cynthia could see a bar brawl happening a few minutes from now: two guys, not far from the other woman, had gotten into a quiet but intense argument about payment due over a fight that had happened last week. In about a minute, one of them would slam his hand down on the bar to catch the other unawares, followed by a solid uppercut to the jaw. They would be thrown out, but in the process the dark-haired woman was going to take a bit of glass bottle in the side.

You guys had the advantage, but Gale rolled better than you, so she got to act first (she 'won Initiative', in D&D speak). You guys are free to act however you will now. Champions, assume that you have a good enough handle on Gale to counter her wind blasts from now on. n0ble, you can adjust Milo's fall however you want, but his power made him heavier reflexively to stop him from getting thrown against the cage.

[n0ble]

Fight Night

Milo forced his feet to become heavy, landing with an impact that made the flooring groan. He banished the heaviness with a thought, moving up to Parcae again. " Make the air less dense around her so she has trouble breathing. Wouldn't mind if you weighed down that ridiculous hat of his either." He didn't need to say anything about throwing him. The plan hadn't changed.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap had to think of a drink before she was embarrassed by the rough-and-tumble bartender, and she just about managed to remember one her father was fond of. "Virgin Moose Milk." Well, just about the whole of the Canadian Armed Forces was fond of it, but she had to disappoint them. Getting drunk around Sidewinder Steve's was a recipe for disaster. "With a straw." She dipped into one of her many pockets and retrieved enough cash for the drink, and a five dollar tip. Probably lavish, but she didn't know the right amount and it was better than under-tipping.

Part of her considered whether the woman beside her would note the show of wealth. But then, she was wearing a very fancy mask. On the other hand, she had a lot of money and still didn't feel affluent.

[GameOfChampions]

Fight Night

Parcae staggers back from the air blast, having to lean into it even as she was pushed back, after a second or two she weighs down the clothes on her body enough to hold herself in place. When she stabilizes she looks up and grins at Gale while grinning and waving her hand through the air, the windstorm dissipates into nothing soon after. The second it's done Parcae lightens her clothing back to normal and starts to run at Paragon, when she gets beside him she comes to an abrupt stop while twisting and grabbing the large man by the front of his costume. As she turns towards Blister she takes a second to gauge the distance and then she throws the forty year old, two hundred pound ex-marine as hard as she could trying to arc him a bit so he goes over the middle of the field and hopefully lands on Blister. It only worked because Paragon made himself and every article of clothing on him as low density as he could manage but damn was it amusing to do.

As Paragon goes flying through the air Parcae turns to the pair of enemies and focuses on them while moving a little closer so they can't escape to easily, she makes the clothing and all other inorganic matter on the pair as heavy as possible while making the air around and ground underneath them as light as possible. With that done she started to lightly run over to Gale while increasing the density of her shoes and the bandages around her fists to mitigate any wind blasts again.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Fight Night

Jordan paused as he surveyed the room. His spectral entrance had not attracted an iota of attention from the people around him. He guessed that the regulars of Sidewinder Steve's were just so used to dealing with weird s*** that a ghost coming through the wall was just another tuesday night for them. Still, this was advantageous for him. He hadn't wanted to attract too much attention.

He watched the fight, and despite his power he couldn't help but wince reflexively when Gale landed her attack. He didn't see why Paragon and Parcae were so heavily favored. One more good hit, and Paragon was going to get fried on that fence.

He tore his focus away from the fight, and focused on trying to find a place to get information. Seeing a bartender at the side of the room, Jordan made his straight towards it. He didn't bother moving around people, and just phased through them as he needed. There were currently two woman waiting to place their orders. Jordan hovered up beside the bar and addressed the bartender. Where does a guy go to find work? He tried his best to lower his voice as much as he could, and his power also caused it to come out with an odd reverb. Jordan wasn't sure why that was the case, but he imagined it was some consequence of whatever esoteric method his power used to generate the sound, as opposed to the conventional method of vibrating his vocal cords.

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Parallel gave a grimace as the bartender brought her from her reverie. Sighing slightly, she absentmindedly replied "A Vieux Carré should be fine, if you could?" She laid enough cash for the drink and a reasonable tip on the bar as she turned to look at arguing men-she had a tab, but it seemed like quick exits were going to be the order of the day.

Her mask hiding a slightly exasperated look, she spent a few moments using her power to refine her intended future. A few seconds before the fight broke out, she leaned forward and grabbed the slight teenager by the shoulder and pulled her a foot or so away from the men-she was obviously painfully new at this, but hardly deserved a cracked skull for it. Speaking casually as she did, "Try to watch out. This place isn't going to get any more peaceable tonight.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

A grunt escaped Bootstrap's lips as she was suddenly shunted from a perfectly awkward position. She looked up to her shunter with an expression that wasn't actually visible, but probably wasn't overjoyed. "Okay." What she wanted to ask was whether the pull was necessary to dispense that particular pearl of wisdom. Fortunately for her vulnerable organs, manners and fear won the day. "Thanks. Like the..." Not the mask. Everybody must have noticed the mask. "Suit."

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Parallel looked down at Bootstrap for a moment, her expression softening as futures flashed before her eyes. Playing it off as an awkward pause, she gave a warm, slightly rueful smile-mostly visible through her mask-and replied "Thanks, it was a bit of a hassle to get. Kind of you to notice." Looking her up and down she continued "You've got quite an impressive costume yourself-though it looks like you're planning to be more active in it than I tend to be."

Taking a moment to sip her drink, seeming to try and figure out what to say, she went on with a note of concern in her voice "If I could say so...you're a bit new at this, aren't you? Or in town? You don't seem particularly comfortable around here."

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap couldn't help but blush at the compliment of her costume. It was expensive, for somebody else, but it didn't have a whole lot of thought put into it. It wasn't even tailored. She muttered another "Thanks." anyway. When the woman asked another question, she frowned behind her goggles. She'd thought she'd been doing reasonably well, and confirming that she was new, vulnerable, would only make her more those things. "I'm not. Room full of people who can kill you just by thinking about it is nowhere to relax." Paranoia was clearly the better option.

[ironrevenant]

Fight Night

Charles looks around Sidewinder Steve's with a small sense of fear. He hasn't really ever been to a place like this since getting his powers, and he feels isolated. Not just socially, but in the sense that he is, essentially, useless here. A scrawny nineteen-year-old with little knowledge of self-defence whose power relies on corpses.

He decided to come in the cheap costume he had bought, which is virtually just a Halloween Grim Reaper costume. In a place with people who have actual, professionally made costumes, he feels even worse.

He shuffles inside, wincing slightly at the loud noises and bright lights. Maybe it was a mistake to turn up here. He finds a seat at a table in the corner, where he can watch the fight and watch anyone looking to approach him.

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Parallel's smile widened a bit at that, just barely suppressing a bit of laughter at some private joke without being too obvious about it. "It takes most of them a bit more effort than that. But you're not wrong, the place is a bit of a powder keg." Glancing towards the ongoing pit fight before turning back toward Bootstrap she continued with an interested tone "Why take the risk then? Looking to find something?"

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap wasn't about to be displeased by probably the first smile she'd seen in Sidewinder Steve's. She had no doubt there were many of them, once somebody won big on their bloodsports, but a genuine one was...nice. Confusing, but nice. "I want to know what kind of tech people are using." She summarized. Vague enough that it wouldn't put her in danger in the future, but she didn't want to disappoint the stranger. "Security, guns, whatever. Kind of stuff you can't find on Wikipedia."

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night

It would appear that, although nobody saw the initial appearance of Justice through the floor, the moment he passes through some other patrons there are some gasps and turned heads. They're used to some strange folk, but an incorporeal cape is something of an oddity, even to seasoned cape veterans. The man behind the bar, about to step in to try and break up the two nearby itinerants, just raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Er... not sure what kind of work you're looking for, buddy. We got some active bounties, if you wanna take a look at 'em. But you're gonna have to ask around to see if there's anyone here who'd like to work with you." A few of the other people at the bar appear to be displaying defensive body language, if not actively shuffling away from the Justice's green form. In this dark lighting, he really stands out from anybody else sitting nearby. Not two feet away, Bootstrap gets her drink order... completely wrong, as the bartender is still distracted at the appearance of what seems to be a genuine ghost.

Meanwhile, in the ring, the fight appears at first to be turning in your favor. Paragon recovered quickly enough from Gale's initial attack, and the attacker herself sinks into the ring floor, suddenly feeling an extreme amount of pressure. She appears to be trying to free herself using air bursts, but to no avail. Now better informed about the kinds of obstacles possibly in your way, the two of you have managed to pull off a crowd-pleasing move. There's a sharp, collective intake of breath as the compounded density manipulation allows Parcae to throw the former chaplain over his head like a human missile towards your opponents. It's a great move, and would have ended the fight before it could even begin. Unfortunately, it would appear that your enemies figured you might try something like that. And so - soaring through the air at tremendous speed - Paragon smashes headfirst into a wall of highly-condensed air. Although his power steps in to slow his descent and prevent the lion's share of the pain, the breaker cape lands with several bloody gashes beneath his mask and a broken collarbone. Gale is unconscious now, but her last ditch effort was nearly enough to cripple Paragon. To make matters worse, Parcae hears Blister laugh, as the space behind her explodes, knocking her to the ground. In her place stands a carbon copy of the Master cape, ready to make good on his advantage.

"Oh, would you look at that! A one-two punch from Blister and Gale!" The crowd is absolutely loving the fight, and Steve is clearly intent on milking it for all its worth. "It looks like Gale's down for the count, but Blister's still up and running! Can Paragon and Parcae pin him down before there's too many of them?"

[n0ble]

Ow. By way of comparison, the pain in Milo's collarbone was less than he'd experienced while deployed, but enough to stop him from lifting his arm. It certainly wasn't a stab would or comparable to being shot, but it still hurt. Down an arm. He rose, planting his feet and body in a weighed-down crouching position. Milo shot a quick glance behind, noting that Parcae was prone and a copy of blister was behind her. He turned and looked in the direction of the laughter and his eyes narrowed. Milo pushed off into the air, ascending in an arc towards Blister while grunting in pain at the fracture in his collarbone. Time for that later.

He swung both his feet forward, making them more dense and letting the limbs carry him downward just beyond the replicator. Milo stuck his good arm out in attempt to clothesline him with a much denser than normal arm. At the same time, he made the rest of his body as dense as the rest of his arm, in preparation to plant himself in front of the replicator.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap looked at her drink, then to the bartender, then back at her drink, and cleared her throat. "My drink is wrong." She informed the distracted gentleman. Why he was surprised by somebody else displaying their power, she didn't quite know.

[GameOfChampions]

Natalie grins as she sees Gale go down but any elation she has at her success is wiped away by the wall of air that Paragon crashed into. She winces as she sees his arm bent and broken. She turns to help deal with Blister but he had other ideas as a blis terrifying explodes behind her, knocking her on her ass.

She grunts as she skins her hand and bangs her hip on the ground. Natalie turns to the grinning Blister clone with a glare 'Damn this guy is irritating, it's just something about him. I kinda understand why Paragons gunning for him right now.' The one good thing about this was that she could be as brutal as she wanted with a clone.

With a thought she starts to make the inorganic matter on his upper body as dense as possible and the ground under him as light as possible with her stolen power and as she does that Natalie also twists on her side to try and sweep his legs out from under him. It's similar to the move she pulled on Gale but with one or two changes, she left his lower half unaffected until she either sweeps the legs or fails to do so. The big change though is if she can sweep the legs, Natalie could see the maneuver in her mind. The clone would fall to the ground sideways and his denser body would punch him into the ground but she'd leave the ground under his head unaffected so his body would go into the ground but his head hopefully wouldn't.

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night

Parcae's attack works about as well as expected, as the lower half of Blister's clone topples and his upper half caves into the ground... leaving a very bloody mess on the floor where his head was. "Fatality! Looks like Parcae's playing for keeps tonight!" Steve holds her gaze for a moment, as though to ensure that the death won't progress further than the clones. Seemingly satisfied, he greets the cheers of the crowd with a wolfish grin. With Gale down for the count, the cage match barely lasts another minute. While Blister manages to evade Paragon's first attack - probably out of luck - he's only able to make one more clones and slow the soldier down before he's taken out, to a rousing cheer from the audience. It was obvious which way the melee was going: Paragon closing in on the prime all but sealed the deal. When he falls, he falls hard; a single impact from the breaker's fist is enough to break almost all of his ribs and knock him out.

"Would you look at that! One of our best times from the dynamic duo here!" The cage is opened, as the man in the grey hurries over to Blister, the same way he did with Gale. All he has to do is touch the man's supine body, and suddenly it disappears. Not two feet away, a copy of Blister appears... exactly as he was at the beginning of the fight. Swearing profusely, he pushes the healer away roughly as the latter moves in to make sure he's alright. In seconds, he's stormed out of the cage and making his way through the jeers of the crowd. Gale is already standing near the entrance, and offers both fighters a curt handshake on her way out. Steve, for his part, has already produced a pair of purses, which he throws to both of you.

"Tonight's winners, ladies and gentlemen!"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Fight Night

To Jordan's unease, some of the patrons had started to give him funny looks. Maybe he should have shown up in person. He glanced over his shoulder at the interruption. can you give us a moment? He said to the scrawny man who complained about his drink. He turned back to the bartender. Thanks for the help. So who organizes these Bounties? Who would I talk to about that? And do you know if there is anyone looking to team up?

The last part was said loud enough that anyone adjacent to the bar should have been able to hear it. As the fight came to a conclusion, Jordan saw Blister and Gale as they left. wow. They got f-ed up

[n0ble]

Milo forced his heartbeat to slow down, taking long measured breaths. Huh. Fast. He patiently waited for the man in grey to fix his collarbone before giving Gale a similarly curt handshake. As Steve tossed him one of the coin purses, he caught with his left hand before leaving for the actual bar without so much as a backwards glance at the crowd. He'd count the money back at his place and keep it out of sight till then. No sense in waving around a bunch of cash that some drunk cape would try and jump him for after he left the bar.

As he got up to the bar, a couple people parted before him or gave him the odd slap on the back. Someone who looked too drunk for their own good offered him a drink, clearly oblivious to the fact that his mask had nowhere to drink from. Have to remember that. Exposed mouth is useful for biting if it comes down to it. Without really thinking about it, Milo made part of his mask light enough to carve and rip out the mask-section around his mouth before smoothing over the jagged edges. The man who'd offered him a drink took it as a sign of acceptance but Milo'd already passed him on the way to the bar.

He took a vacant stool and asked for a rootbeer, while thoughtfully munching on a bowl of peanuts. Maybe someone will offer an alliance following that display. Doubt $1000 buys allies. His ears pricked up at a voice coming from a green-gold... person. At least it seemed like a person despite the whole hovering off the ground thing. He didn't make any particular moves to get up. Milo was content to listen at the potential bounties, prospects and future conflicts.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap pressed her lips firmly together beneath her mask. "I ordered my drink before you floated up, Stay-Puft, so no." She wouldn't have been so angry if it hadn't been for the rudeness of interrupting a transaction, and the bartender's utter lack of discipline. She would have bitten her tongue, for the sake of not getting into an argument around powerful people, but she didn't like the fact that he was trying to exert control over her, either. And she'd have liked to think that being meek in a place filled with a rough-crowd wouldn't have been good for whatever image she might have had, but that was probably at the bottom of her list.

[GameOfChampions]

Natalie grins as she catches the purse, another nights winnings meant she only had to do a couple nights work this week to keep afloat for two weeks or so. She quickly makes her way to the locker room to grab her street stuff before throwing it into a backpack she'd brought and heading up to the bar for a drink. As she gets up there she signals to the bartender "Vodka Soda please." and sits down next to Paragon with a nod and a smile "Good fight tonight Paragon, never disappointing with you as a partner."

As she waits for her drink Natalie's eyes wander down the bar, checking out the other capes around the place and lingering on the glowing specter a short ways away. Curious she reaches out with her power, wondering if it was a person and if she could interact with it. However she does make sure to let go of the Paragons copied shard as she sits down beside him, no more reason to keep that on hand.

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Cynthia was distracted by the sudden brutality of the fight for a few minutes, obviously entranced by the spectacle. So much so that she completely lost track of when she had planned to start arranging things-a shame, she'd hoped to try and make things end a bit more neatly.

Finishing her cocktail with a gulp and setting the glass down, she turned to the other capes at the bar. Interrupting the nascent argument between Bootstrap and the strange green apparition with a wave of her hand to attract their attention, she spoke quickly "A friendly word of warning, if I may? The violence is going to start again quite shortly, outside of the ring now, and it won't exactly be restrained. Unless that appeals, you may want to consider taking your leave."

Seeing Parcae at the bar, she gave her a friendly nod "You'll be fine of course, I'm sure. But it's easy to end up with bloody hands in a crowd, and enough noise does attract the hounds."

Any feeling of moral duty thus discharged; Cynthia moved surprisingly quickly towards the exit, keeping a wary eye on the jeering crowd near the pit.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

The knowledge that there was about to be another fight - Bootstrap gathered that the masked woman was familiar enough with this crowd to know when things were about to get violent - served to diffuse her anger. It also provided an easy out of the awkward situation with lazy bartender, so she left the drink where it was and followed Cynthia out of Sidewinder Steve's. She was already thinking about where she'd be able to go for information on tech, if she couldn't spend five minutes in Sidewinder Steve's without blood filling the kegs.

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night

"Wait, I have your -" but Bootstrap is already gone, along with Cynthia. "Drink," the bartender finishes lamely as he sighs at the perfectly whipped dairy and alcohol beverage. Grumbling to himself, he carries it to the back, no doubt to finish it later himself. When pressed on this matter of bounties, he simply points up at a small list hanging above the bar. Above it are a few names: there are three that look like they've been added recently, and an old one with the number scratched out and a larger sum in its place. The rest have all been crossed out.

Daimyo - Wanted in connection with the Chinatown blockade. Bounty posted by the Toronto PRT branch. Any actionable tip on his whereabouts will be worth $3000. Live capture worth $30,000.

Menagerie - Wanted for the disappearance of PRT agents and several civilians around the Don Valley. The location of his hideout is worth $2000. The return of each missing person is $1000. Live capture worth $20,000.

Cerberus - Wanted on nineteen counts of murder, including three members of the Wards. Bounty posted by the Toronto Protectorate. Worth $500,000, dead or alive. Approach with extreme caution.

As the minutes pass in the bar, you hear a crash, followed by a scream. Looking over across to the other side of the arena, you spot a knot of moving bodies: they're people fleeing from a single man. No, that's not right. There's a cordon of identical men, who appear to be attacking a group of bikers. Blister. It would appear as though he hasn't taken losing all that well, and somebody - probably a bookie - must have been stupid enough to call him out on it. The cracking of bottles and the tearing of flesh can be heard over the screams.

[n0ble]

Fight Night

Hm. Milo tuned out the crashing and screams while scanning the bounty board, committing each name, terms of engagement and values associated with it to memory. He turned to Parce, having put off a response to her words, "It was." He looked to her and then at the bounty board "Reckon another?" he nodded up at the bounties, particularly Menagerie's.

After waiting for an answer Milo finished his root beer and got up to leave. They could sketch a plan out on the way back to their respective residences. Or at least away from people who'd try to shoe-horn in on the take. In any event, Milo thought it best to leave with the uproar Blister was causing. Its not like the replicator needed a reason to fight him after the loss, especially not with alcohol in him. Part of Milo really wanted to twist his head off his neck or put an arm through the prime version's sternum. But not here, not on neutral ground. He gave a curt nod to Parcae before dolling out some of the purse money on the bar for his root beer and headed for the exit of the bar.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Having been too young to see Ghostbusters when it came out and not being into old movie's, Bootstrap's reference went completely over Jordan's head. He ignored her, and looked up at the bounties that the barkeeper had indicated. He didn't know who Daimyo or Menegarie were, but even someone as disconnected from mainstream society as Jordan knew who Cerberus was. His eyes lingered on the amount next to Cerberus's name. His bounty was an order of magnitude higher then any of the others. If he could get his hands on that kind of money, Jordan would be set for a long time.

As the winners of the last bout approached the bar, Jordan rotated in the air to face them. Hey, that was awesome! He said in a tone of genuine admiration. After being interrupted by a new stranger, a well dressed woman, Jordan gave her a quizzical look. Uh, thanks? I think I'll be good. He didn't look worried as the brawl erupted, it wasn't as if the melee was any threat to him personally.

[3SecondCultist]

Fight Night

After having ordered root beer and milkshakes like the true villains you are and left, the majority of you find yourselves in the rainy streets of Toronto. Queen and Dupont isn't exactly raging right about now. The tip from Cynthia seems to have paid off, however, as the noise from Sidewinder Steve's follows you all the way to the door back upstairs, and as several of you make your way outside, you spot a convoy of armored trucks and vans pulling up outside. The PRT has arrived. A squad of men wearing riot armor and carrying containment foam canisters and stun batons form up outside the doors. Somebody wasted no time calling the feds. While it certainly wasn't Steve himself - as the man quickly got involved beating up Blister every which way across the bar - the preservation of this city's 'Switzerland' sometimes means getting the authorities involved when somebody goes too far.

Thankfully, you've managed to avoid detection, either by beating the PRT or just phasing through the nearest wall. The night is still relatively young, and you find yourselves face to face with at least a few strangers in the same boat as you are.

From here, this is going to be pretty sandboxy. You guys have more or less free reign of the city, and I haven't really plotted much else out beyond the initial encounter. Feel free to introduce yourselves IC if your characters don't know one another.

This is going to be a reactive gameworld. Meaning, you guys can make plans, go after bounties, get into turf wars, or just generally be villainous, and the rest of the world will react. Of course, I also have other arcs in place that you will inevitably run headfirst into. But for now, let's just see what happens.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Boostrap's reaction to the arrival of the PRT was a simple one: Simply walking away from their general area so as not to draw their attention. As much as she might have liked to watch them, perhaps get a feel for how their technology worked, it wasn't worth the risk against a force armed for a whole bar of capes. Once some distance was put between them, and she found herself surrounded by strangers, the night didn't feel like much less of a failure. She recognized a pair of the individuals from the bloodsport, the rude ghost from the bar, and the masked woman who'd given her the hint about getting out of Sidewinder Steve's.

As long as she was in their general vicinity, and they probably weren't too invested in any attention-grabbing fight with the PRT not far away...

"Know any better bars?"

[n0ble]

Fight Night

Milo left the bar without so much as a backwards glance, though he noted the sounds of what could only be the PRT arriving. He wanted to turn around and smash all of them. But the truth of it was he was underfunded. You cant wage a war with no money. Bounties.... Their time would come. He took stock of the people who'd either followed him out of the bar or that he'd left after. A slight woman in mask, the green-yellow...person. He made a note to read up more on case fifty threes on the off chance this person was one. He knew Parcae well enough. His gaze turned to the hooded-girl just as she asked about any other bars. Milo offered a small shrug. He hadn't had nearly enough time since coming back to familiarize himself with the landscape.

Instead his thoughts turned towards Menagerie and how best to capture him. Alive is tricky. Means we can't go all out but he can. Don't know how but maybe a tranq gun would suffice. Or a taser. Bean bag gun maybe?

[GameOfChampions]

Fight Night

"Thanks!" Natalie smiles at the glowing man as she gets her drink. She was just starting to drink it when the ornately masked women waves to her and Natalie just looks at her funnily as she leaves "Uhhh OK I guess." Then low and behold Blister starts a fight not to long after. 'Well this seems like my time to leave though I'll just help out Steve as I leave, couldn't hurt.' She gets up and finishes her drink and then claps Paragon on the shoulder "Hey we should go get a drink after this in a bar where there won't be a powered brawl breaking out."

She then starts to make her way out taking a slightly round about route to the stairs around any Blisters or fights going on in the vicinity, as she gets to the stairs she gives Steve a wave goodbye and makes her way up to the streets and watches the PRT make their way down to storm the place. She just shrugs and makes her way to a couple of the other capes from the bar, overhearing the bar question "I know a nice place on Queen street that's pretty low key if everyone is interested... maybe we can talk about some bounties?"

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

"You need money?" Bootstrap muttered at the stranger's mention of bounties. Hunting people down in their homes didn't seem like much of a way to make a living. But, if this woman had made a habit of it, she probably had other connections. Ones that Bootstrap could pay her to use.

[GameOfChampions]

Fight Night

Natalie shrugs "I mean who doesn't need money, going into bounty hunting would mean I could quit my day job and try and make a go of the cape thing. I've been toying with it but maybe it's time to give it a serious go. It isn't heroic, it isn't very villainous so it's a good middle ground to do without pissing people off."

[n0ble]

Fight Night

...mace could work. Or spray paint. He was snapped out of daydreaming by the other's conversation. He gave Parcae a curt nod, accompanied by a few words"Good thinking". Milo figured that sooner or later he'd half to pick a path of his own, but for now he didn't see the harm is going after the bounties. His pension covered the cheap apartment he'd rented and most of the groceries. Weapons and gear would be another matter. The average fifty calibre sniper rifle cost around ten grand and that wasn't even counting ammo or any whistles and bells like thermal scopes or extended magazines. Warfare, even if it was in the name of God, was looking to be an increasingly expensive prospect. Heh. Might have to go mediaeval. Broadsword of some kind. It'd certainly be cheaper, and he could compensate for the shortcomings by closing quickly with others and reducing it's weight so that it could be swung faster. Only real problem there would finding one.

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bounty hunting. A profession guaranteed to make enemies out of those who held the hunted dear. Bootstrap glanced up and down the street, recalled where the cameras were placed, and decided that they were safe enough to talk.

"I can get you money." She offered. "Do you have connections?" She was the star of the show in Sidewinder Steve's; she had to know people who knew things.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Fight Night

Jordan nonchalantly floated along the streets alongside the group of strangers. The sound of sirens made him anxious. He rarely had any positive interactions with the police. He butted into Parcae's talk. Personally, I could use some cash. Jordan admitted. And going after bounties is the only option I've heard tonight. The payout on most of them seem small, especially if they're split between us.

[St.Just]

Fight Night

Cynthia watched the PRT with interest as they arrived, making sure to see how things were likely to go in there-Blister deserved his reputation, as it turned out.

Turning to look at the rest of the group with a shrug as she put her hands in her pockets, she said "I'm not exactly desperate for cash, but I am out a thousand from the fight, and I doubt I'll be able to get in and collect my winnings anytime soon." A slightly maniac gleam in her eye, she continued "Besides, you fine ladies and gentlemen seem like you'd be very interesting company. The bounty options around here are a bit limited though, aren't they? No offense intended, but I'd rather have a bit more backing me than you all before I went to war with the Triad or the Titans."

[Hazuki]

Fight Night

Bootstrap let out a light grunt as the people around her continued to ignore her offer of money. This night was getting frustrating enough without a gaggle of deaf capes trying to pull her into bounty-hunting.

"I have one and a half grand nearby for anyone who's interested." She muttered, then started walking away from the group.

[n0ble]

"Menegerie is alone." Milo's thoughts perked up and out of his daydreaming at the person in the hoodie's mention of money. Nothing's free. He watched the hooded person walk away for a few steps before answering. "What do you want for it?" In his experience people rarely offered things unless they could get more in return. Just like people were only nice if they wanted something. Still, didn't seem very smart to him to flaunt a bunch of money in front of people you hardly knew. Milo's fist clenched just a little bit harder around the coin purse inside his bomber jacket.

[Hazuki]

Bootstrap

"Information. Connections. Anyone who knows how to get gear you can't buy at Wal-mart." Boostrap answered. It seemed like a simple list to her.

[n0ble]

"Good question. Wish I had an answer." he looked at the others. "Does anyone know an arms dealer besides Vulcan? I've been out of the city for... a while. Not really familiar with the place anymore."

[GameOfChampions]

Fight Night

Natalie shrugs "Not really, I've only lived here a year or so and my contact with capes is usually fleeting at the bar. Also I don't usually ask about any of that stuff... sorry. Anyway I'd be down for some bounty hunting with you guys and Menagerie does seem the least affiliated though I don't know lady going up against the Titans or Triad could be some some fun." She grins broadly with teeth showing.

She tilts her head a bit in thought "So how would we go about hunting this guy down anyway? Anyone have any ideas?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Jordan butted into the center of the group. Well, its a pleasure to meet you all. He said. Parcae, I'm a fan. That was a good show. He hovered in mid air while thinking. If we got a sense of the area he's in. I could go find him. Nothing can hurt me while I'm like this.

In response to Bootstrap's queries, he turned and said. Personally, I just need money, and I'll do anything to get it. If you want to network, maybe working with another group of capes would be a good way to start?