Tattoo sways aside, his body bending like a reed in the wind. Ebon's chopping hand whistles past his face as the ninja judges his opponents movement and reacts to them in and instant.
|
Trystt attempts to charge the air around the tattooed man, twisting chance against him.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Midnight attempts to predict the ninja's dodging, her bolt of sizzling electricity arcing through the air...
The blast of electricity rocks Tattoo, scorching along his chest. Bizarrely, Midnight sees an elephant, a monkey and a wolf all depicted on his skin and howling in pain themselves as though separate creatures from the mutant.
On his left shoulder is a magnificent eagle tattoo. It's head emerges from his skin and turns it's yellow eyes on the group. It calls with an ear-piercing screech. Tables fly away from Tattoo, sent hurtling back by the power of the sonic attack.
Each of you instinctively cover your ears against it but only Napalm manages to drown out enough to not be disoriented by the attack.
Success
Shrugging off the noise, Spore lashes out yet again, aiming to connect a whipping vine with Tattoo's body.
Napalm winces at the sound and grabs another canister of acid. He hurls it at Tattoo again.
-Posted with Wayfinder
For once Napalm's aim fails him. He tosses the bomb close enough to Tattoo, but the ninja slashes out his blade and bats the greande aside. It erupts just behind Spore, but somehow Napalm's explosion manages to miss his companion.
With the group still reeling from the eagle's cry, Tattoo - looking somewhat worse for wear and breathing raggedly - dashes away from Spore and closer toward the door.
As he moves he conjures a soider that crawls along his arm and to his hand. There, it spits out an impossible amount of web that suddenly cover the area, clinging to each of you and hindering your movement.
Fail
Success
Fail
Success
Success
As Tattoo pulls back and launches his spider-mess, Spore shoots a thick, wood-tipped vine out at the back of his head, looking to bludgeon.
Napalm tries to duck down and slip out of the webbing.
Napalm slips out of the webbing and tries to move out of the area, but the webbing is everywhere and his foot gets stuck a couple of times. The mutant hurls another canister of acid at the man.
|
|
Trystt attempts to penetrate the mind and reduce the defenses of Tattoo.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Success
Ears ringing and shoulder burning, Midnight growls at the pain even as the webbing erupts around her.
Electricity arcs from her hands towards the tattooed man...
...but the burst shorts out around the copious webbing.
Ebon struggles as the web covers him and grapple him in place. He attempts to work his way out of the web.
"Just like the Hand, never wanting to face a true fight!" He shouts out as he fails to break out of the webbing.
Breathing hard, burnt and bleeding, Tattoo stumbles back against the wall leaving a streak of blood behind him.
His blade quivers in his hand but he looks calm and defiant nonetheless.
I respect your kazoku, son of Dhengfeng. But I am not destined to be defeated here today.
He draws a small device from the waistband of his belt and hits a switch, suddenly disappearing in a shower of sparks!
He used a portable short-range teleportation device. It is quite sophisticated technology, certainly not commercially available.
Eventually the webs fade but the room is still thick with smoke as the machinery stacked against the wall smoulders. Almost comedically late, the sprinkler system kicks in and begins spitting out gallons of water into the room, soaking you all to the skin.
Disappointed that Tattoo escaped, but mostly just happy they're all still relatively unharmed, Spore takes a minute to relax, and soaks up the water from the sprinklers happily as he heals from his wounds.
"...Wow. That's the most adept human I've seen yet. His mastery over the spirits of your world is impressive. Scary, but impressive."
Stepping into a corner where she is somewhat out of the range of the sprinklers, Trystt conjures a powerful breeze out thin air and ducks her head into it, trying in vain to dry her soaked locks as if using an invisible hairdryer.
With dismay, she realises that the combination of cold water, colder air and her innate static attraction makes for an incredibly frizzy blue hairdo.
Ebon curses punching the wall, as tattoo gets away. The sprinkler water washing away the blood from his body. ”That’s who I was talking about he’s part of The Hand, we’ll see him again and he won’t get away so easy next time. They are so designers I trained all my life to end them and I couldn’t even take the first one out.” He takes out a bandage and patches up his cuts.
”Let keep moving I want to know exactly what’s going on here.”
"What do you think he was doing to these people? Is this some ritual from his sect, Ebon?" Napalm moves to any surviving equipment to examine it.
The equipment in the room looks truly damaged beyond repair at this stage. By how dishevelled the beds were and the fact drips were just hanging out, it seems reasonable to assume whoever was lying here was very recently and very hastily moved.
The rest of the complex is made up of staff areas that include locker rooms and kitchens but for the most part it is storerooms of medical equipment and medications. There are two large labs complete with clean rooms and one of the larger rooms to the south - once again protected by the white keycard carried on the Hand agent - actually splits into several plexi-glass cells though all are unoccupied.
Napalm examines the equipment and the clean rooms to try and determine what sort of procedures or tests were being run here.
Ebon stands guard as Napalm look around checking over the equipment. "Can you work out what they were trying to do here ?"
There was clearly medical treatment happening. But the fact that all of the beds are so close together means it was likely either unconventional or an emergency.
Interestingly the labs are all separated from the actual treatment areas and none of the medical staff you have seen carrie the white keycards necessary to get access to the treatment areas.
The hydroponics room supports what the doctor in the burning building told you that there was some chemical synthesis happening and many of the labs are set up to do innocuous DNA sequencing.
Something was happening here, but it is not immediately apparent exactly what.
It is also strange to note that there were two distinct groups operating on the same site - the Hand, and the more paramilitary style guards.
The equipment and computers in the treatment room are certainly too badly damaged to get anything out of on site.
Ebon looks frustrated at himself more than anything. "So we got hardly anything from this?" He paces about, thinking about the fight, doing mock movement.
"That fight will go differently next time." He says to himself.
Then turning back to the others. "If there's nothing else maybe we should move out before they send in help. We need to track down DareDevil."
Napalm glances out of the room. "Should we keep exploring this place? I mean, we know the Hand was doing something here. But what about those guards?"
"I think we should leave, there doesn't seem to be much else left and I want to know if DareDevil got to the Punisher. The shooting did stop..." He pauses hoping it didn't go wrong for him.
"We need to try and contact him."
Midnight unseals the shielded forearm pocket built in to her armored suit and brings the burner phone out.
Not meeting anyone's eyes she punches the call button for the only number on there, the phone rings the other end and she stands waiting for it to be picked up.
Patient though she may be, the phone does not ring but rather goes straight to answer phone.
The electronic voice asking her to leave a message sounds as hollow as she feels upon hearing it
The next few hours are an absolute blur of activity.
Half a dozen squad cars arrive first followed by armoured vehicles emblazoned with FBI and DEA and SHIELD and the dark night is suddenly a splash of red and blue and yellow flame that reflect of the waterfront like a watercolour painting.
You are interviewed at least half a dozen times by different agencies in between being treated by ambulance teams that work tirelessly alongside the fire crews that pull survivors from burning buildings.
Everywhere you look the dockside looks more and more like a warzone and not for the first time Midnight tries to call Daredevil only for the call to drop to answerphone instantly.
Lucas sits on a half wall, watching the beehive of activity. A group of FBI agents walked past him looking serious. DEA has erected a tent near the pharmaceutical building, probably some sort of field test lab. He spotted a SHIELD agent who he recognized jogging past. "Hey! Duncan, right? No, that's not right. Deacon?" He shakes his head.
"Hey, can we go?" He pauses, then decides to see what the man knew. "Any idea what this place was all about? They were doing some sort of medical experiments? I think the Punisher was here too. Any sign of him? I mean, other than the people full of bullets?"
Hey Lucas. the man says as he skids to a halt. No real idea yet, it's going to take them days to pick through this. But you look at those beds and all that equipment and you start to think organ harvesting or human trafficking, especially if the Hand were involved.
They've been quiet since the Devil and the bulletproof guy busted up whatever operation they had in Hell's Kitchen so maybe this was their next big thing.
He grimaces at mention of the Punisher;
That guy is a ghost. Or maybe the Boogie-man. Between you and me man, whenever I get a call like this I always hope it isn't him. We've got units west with SWAT backup looking for where he was taking the shots.
This place is a mess, you should get home and get some sleep. he advises with a friendly clap on Napalm's shoulder and a nod to the others who themselves look tired, drained and patched up.
|
|
Trystt offers what aid she can to any victims and her friends. But she is physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. And that means her short-temper is in full effect, causing her to curt. But knowing that the officers and agents are just doing their jobs means that it isn't right to be rude to them, so she has no outlet for her temper. And that exacerbates her temper; basically, it's a vicious cycle. Eventually, she is practically in tears and whining, "I just want to go home and sleep."
Ebon stands aside brushing off medics and officers alike looking around the crowds expecting Hand agents to be watching.
He stands alert, his wounds evident with blood staining his chest. But there is no look of fatigue on his face.
As the group gets together, Ebon calls them in closer. "We've hit on something big here, this is only the beginning. You should all go get some rest, clear our minds. If we get any word from out Devil friend, maybe a call tomorrow will bring more light on the situation." He straightens up and looks around at the crowned again. "I'm going to do a few loops of the area, I can't rest now there's no way I'll sleep."
That night Ebon spent a long time walking around, he doesn't even know how long except that one moment the only light was the hazy yellow of the streetlights and the next it was the first dirty rays of the sun creeping guiltily over the skyline.
Midnight meanwhile, in that classic cliched way of trying to find a better signal, holds the cellphne given to her by Daredevil at arms length and stares at the screen as she gets higher and higher, rising up into the night sky until the city sprawls out beneath her like a series of child's toys. But no matter how many times she calls, every time she gets that electronic voice and nothing more. She takes a seat at the edge of the highest building she can find and rests her head in her hands.
Hey. comes the voice. Hey! louder this time.
She turns and looks through the fence that runs around the edge of the viewing platform, the bright spire rising above her, and sees a balding guard, stomach spilling a little over his belt, dark skin glistening with a sheen of sweat beneath the changing lights.
I said the same thing to Spiderman, so I'm gonna say it to you too. Can't sit there. Don't care if you can fly or swing or whatever. If you fall we're still liable. Sorry.
She waves acknowledgement and takes to the air.
Spore escorts Trystt back to her small apartment room. Her movements are staccato and lurching and she can't recall the last time she felt so tired. Even so, despite the fact her big companion offers to carry her she gently declines. She walked out of that place well enough and she'd walk home too.
Though it feels as though the knife is still in her back.
Spore takes her inside and fixes her a drink, even one she likes instead of some delicious water, and tucks her securely in bed. He spends the night stood in the corner, looking so remarkably like a giant potted plant that it makes her giggle a little.
The bed is warm and safe and home. But regardless of how tired and sore she was the night played over and over in her mind and the feeling that something huge and scary was just at the corner of her vision wouldn't leave her. As if sensing her unease, Spore sends a vine creeping along the carpet, between her soft sheets and gives her hand a squeeze.
Napalm doesn't head straight home. The night was a huge frustration. They'd fought hard but he can still see the faces of the people they couldn't save. But more than that, all that equipment, those labs... he felt like he should know what they were doing there and if he did he could blow it all open.
Instead he felt dumber than a freshman.
He opens his phone more than once to call Maggie. But for some reason he can't bring himself to do it, as if guilt or even more bizarrely - fear - were preventing him from doing so.
Instead he crawls into some sleazy bar in Midtown and drinks like he hasn't done since he was that dumb freshman.
When he eventually makes his way home, Maggie is still awake waiting for him. He leans uneasily in the doorway and she says nothing but comes and hugs him all the same. God he loves her.
------------
New York is a bright and guilty place, where sex, sin, corruption and bloody, bloody violence play out amid the boulevards, nightclubs and wide streets. Criminals and masked villains sit like spiders in sprawling hillside villas and towering palms, plotting their machinations and lording over the neon lights of of the Manhatten skyline.
In New York, everything is closer and noisier than anything Ebon has experienced before. He feels like he has dirt under his fingernails just walking through these claustrophobic streets with their monolithic towers, the drone and buzz of the hive all around him.
Just like the city itself, none of you get any sleep, and until whatever it is you have discovered is done, perhaps you never will.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Spore spends the next few days with Trystt instead of in the park, making sure she gets plenty of bed-rest and regular meals and fluids, until she's fully recovered- physically at least. His vigil goes uninterrupted, buoyed by his concern for his friend, and facilitated by his lack of need for sleep.
With plenty of time to think, his mind wanders back to the scenes after the fight with Tattoo. He'd tolerated the interviews at first, making sure to comply completely so as not to draw attention from Trystt's medical concerns. Eventually though, he grew frustrated with the pace, and the attention he was getting, and after making sure she was stable, Spore helped her home, accepting a ride partways from a SHIELD transport so as to distance themselves from anyone tailing them- malevolent or curious.
Still, the attention didn't bother Spore half as much as did the prospect of what he'd seen inside the buildings. The experimental growth of extraterrestrial plants and fungi-- that didn't bode well. Most of the humans wouldn't understand the potential danger from corrupting the spirits of those beings, but Spore did. And it was unsettling. He might not know exactly what The Hand --or whomever-- planned to do, but he knew it was bad, wrong, and dangerous. And that it needed to be stopped.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Ebon dodges all the interviews he can with shield and other officials. Holding up in the temple, training as much as he can, a more brutal regiment of training then he's ever put himself through sleeping only two hours a day.
He spent time learning as much as he can about the Hand and this Tattoo who fought so well and beat him. He can't let that happen again.
The Hand is up to something that was beyond his comprehension and for them to know him so well... While he knows nothing about them.
Getting consumed up in all of it, he forces himself to meet up with the others checking in on them. Offering any help he can give them while they lay low and wait to hear something and wanting to see what they can do from here.
|
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The first couple of days are really difficult for Trystt. Once the adrenaline wears off and the exhaustion sets in, her mind becomes foggy. It's as if the thoughts are in her head, but she can't connect the dots and verbalize anything. The whole situation exacerbates her moodiness.
Spore's company helps a lot with the emotional distress she feels from the aftermath. She wonders if he knows how grateful she is, not just for the solace, but also for not needing to be asked to provide it. She isn't very good at requesting help, no matter how much she wants it.
After a couple of days, she is feeling well, physically, at least. But oddly, her close call makes her feel reckless rather than cautious. She starts sneaking out at night with Rocky as her eerily silent companion while Spore is resting, seeking out games of chance in the seediest parts of the city. She isn't certain that she is actually fooling Spore, but she pretends that she is.
As for the others, Trystt gives Spore the green light to let them know that she is doing better, but doesn't answer any texts or calls herself. She does have a brief moment of levity recalling explaining to Spore that 'giving a green light' doesn't have anything to do with photosynthesis.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Lucas' cell phone lit up with Maggie's face...again. He tries to ignore the ring as he focuses on the computer screen in front of him. The phone continues to ring and Lucas jabs at it to silence the ring. He sighs and looks back at the phone. 6 missed calls. 3 voicemails. All from Maggie.
He picks up the phone and checks the time. Damn, it's past 1am already. No wonder she's calling. He turns back to his computer, filled with data from ActivPharma's recent medical purchases. He turns to a second screen and sighs again. He was running searches on call data records and GPS information from around the Staten Island lab site. If he could identify Daredevil's phone, maybe there was a chance to find the man. Hell, maybe I can find the Punisher too.
Lucas stands up and suddenly whirls around and kicks the chair into the wall. "F@@&!" Lucas yells. The dry wall cracks and the chair falls onto a small table, smashing a coffee cup and knocking a pill bottle across the room and scattering pills across the floor. The young scientist knew he could do this. He could figure out what was going on at the lab. He could find out what the Hand was doing to those people. And he could find Daredevil. He just needed to stay sharp and find the hidden clue.
He picks up three of the scattered pills and pops them into his mouth. He reaches for the coffee cup before he realizes it's broken now. Cursing silently, Lucas just swallows the pills dry. Then he walks over to his lab in the next room. He opens a small fridge and grabs a vial from it. Using a syringe, he draws out some of the greenish liquid and injects it into arm. Suddenly, the fatigue drops away and he feels refreshed. Lucas tosses the syringe on the table where it lands on top of three more like it. He heads back to the computers to continue his work. He had hours before morning. "Plenty of time to solve this."