2013.06.04 - Arrows in the dark

While he has been busy trying to learn a bit more about Green Arrow, Connor Hawke is also trying to explore these new cities. West Coast cities are a bit different than East Coast cities but it's going to take more than a few days...or even weeks...to really get his bearings, both day and night. While he's spending his days getting to know New York as well as Gotham by day, he's also doing the same at night in his makeshift 'costume'.

Over the last few days and nights, he's added a bit more green to the costume. No doubt there has been word of mouth that Green Arrow has made more than a few appearances in New York...even when he's also been sighted in Gotham! Vorpal has been keeping a steady beat. Always within that two mile area he delimited--down Melrose, over to Trinity, up past E 167th. Keith O'Neil knows the area like the back of his hand- it was here that he spent most of his childhood, though all of that is gone now. His family is still around, and he always makes sure he checks up on the house near the Dunbar Playground... but they believe Keith O'Neil died in a fire as a hero. They wouldn't know him for the purple apparition that prowls through the rooftops right now, moving with grace and stealth as his nocturnal vision scans the alleys and the streets. Despite the urban renewal projects, Morrisania still remains troubled, and often forgotten to the larger crises. Like Connor, he wears a makeshift costume- running tights he took from a sports store late in the night, and which he has written down to pay back at some point, whn he finally figures what to do.

He jumps across the space between two low buildings, landing and crouching as he approaches the ledge, looking down into the street to scan for activity.

Not knowing local heroes or stories, Connor...or 'Zen' as he's taken to calling himself right now, has moved uptown to explore. While he doesn't have night vision, he has a pretty decent awareness of things around him and he's quickly learning how to figure out the large cities.

With his bow and quiver in tow, he's taken to the shadows to observe. One of the figures on the rooftops catches his attention and he keeps some attention there as he's not yet sure if it's friend or foe. In this area, it could be either. Vorpal crouches lower, frowning. His ears twitch as he hears voices.The warehouses on Webster were always a problem-- a few of them were abandoned, many had large storage yards and poor lighting. Gangs loved the areas for showdowns. Unaware of Zen's existence, he inches forward. From his vantage point, he can see a little over the warehouse rooftop and into the yard. Yes, there are people there.

He frowns. The warehouse is too far away from this building to jump, so he stands up straight, trusting in the cover of night, and then he lifts himself off the roof and drifts onto the other rooftop- not flying, but rather floating at walking pace. He lands noiselessly on the other roof and crouches, moving slowly to the edge there. Floating people. It's not something one sees every day. 'Zen' can't help but watch before he decided to follow in the direction of the 'floating person'. It's when he also begins to hear the voices nearby. Sneaking a little closer, he tries to hear more of what is being said. Maybe the floating person isn't a part of whatever this is? The voices rise in tone and urgency. Soon it becomes clear that there is some sort of altercation on the rise. As Zen approaches the yard, the voices become more distinct: "This is *our* turf, and if you don't get the ---"

Someone is staking a territorial claim amidst a great deal of profanity. Vorpal, from his ledge, shakes his head. Depending on how close Zen might be sneaking, he might be able to see the two groups-- no more than ten members, six from one gang and five from another. A minor encounter by most groups, but not if you're just one person. The feline's tail sways behind him as he counts them. Dim light flashes off bare blades, and some of them are carrying guns. "Damnit" he whispers quietly, "It's going to be a massacre..." he has tackled smaller numbers before, he's clearly hesitating.

Zen doesn't have all that much experience with gangs, but he knows that people talking about 'turf' in the middle of the night near abandoned/darkened/spooky warehouses isn't a Brony convention. Frowning, he sneaks a little closer to get a count of the number there. He notes the guns and the blades and silently nocks an arrow into the bow.

He tries to also note the location of the shadowy, floaty figure, but as he doesn't see them among their number, maybe he's not out to do harm? He's learned that it's almost as common to run across another vigilante as it is someone meaning to do harm!

Vorpal frowns as the gesturing and posturing get more and more dramatic. Something's going to happen... and unless he acts quickly, that means there'll be some dead bodies soon. "Think... think..." he says quietly. He narrows his eyes and Grins, suddenly vanishing into the shadows as if he had never been there. Gingerly, he steps off the rooftops and follows the shadows where they're at their deepest. He maneuvers himself to a spot on the ground behind one of the loading trucks, hidden from the gangs but completely visible to Zen, and reappears as soon as he steps into the area. During this time, the two groups have started shouting at each other now, voices lost in a cacophony until one of them raises his gun to fire at the most aggressive member from the other gang, who is shouting his challenges....

As soon as the gun is raised, Zen shoots an arrow at it, attempting to plug up the barrel with the arrow-shaft. Maybe that will calm them down some...so that there needn't be an excalated fire fight. As the shadowy figure appears across from him, he blinks and tilts his head in inquiry.

Vorpal blinks, taken aback by what seemed to be an arrow shaft appearing out of the blue. It does a number on the gang members, too, whose fire seems to suddenly come down to a slow boil as they look around. Their territory squabble forgotten momentarily in the face of a bigger threat-- the police doesn't use arrows. Nobody says it out loud, but it's in everybody's minds.

"Fan out, get the mer now!" one of the top men barks, and they quickly start fanning out, weapons and guns at the ready. One group starts heading for the area directly by Vorpal and the feline starts backtracking, trying to think quickly before they find him. He had managed to get a look at some of the gang member's clothes and identified the gang colors. A split second before the group turns around the truck, a red-headed young man is standing where the purple feline was, wearing the colors of one of the gang members. "I saw somethin' over there--" he says, thumbing behind him.

That...was not the intent. Scowling as the gang members decide to hunt him down rather than disperse. Zen nocks another arrow and begins firing -- not to kill, but more to surprise or frighten. It might not work, but maybe it might scare off a few.

From behind his domino mask, he notes the other's change...with a little confusion. Is he in cahoots? At least he's not ratting him out. Once the gang members move, he hisses, "What are you doing?"

The bravado is short lived. Being pelted with arrows from a source they can't see definitely takes the ginger out of them. Quite a few start turning tail and running, leaving only a small group still searching- the more determined six from the gang who 'owns' this turf, not easily wanting to look weak. As Zen turns around, suddenly surprised--- so much so that his illusion disappears altogether, leaving the cheshire cat as he was before. "Wh--- who are---" his eyes widen, looking at the young man's bow and quiver. "Green Arrow?" he says, with far more of a thrill in his voice than he intended. The goons he sent into the warehouse are still searching in there, the sound of boxes falling and things breaking as they search the place with the elegance of a bull in a china shop.

Six against two is an odd that Connor can deal with. He hopes. As the shadow-person reveals himself to be...either a human or some sort of cat-person, his own eyes widen. "I...uh..." He's a bit too shocked to answer or negate the name he's being addressed with. "Are you with them or trying to clear them out too? I'm guessing that they shouldn't be here, huh?" Zen's startled look is something he's become accustomed to on these prowls. Pushing aside how uncomfortable it makes him feel, he puts himself back in a 'business' mentality. "Two rival gangs here-- the Padres and the Saints. They're crooks and we need to get them off the streets... " he looks towards the warehouse. "If you can take care of the guy with the gun... we could take them down. Are you in?" he speaks quietly but quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity of trapping them in.

"I can't leave you with five...or more, but I can take care of the guy with the gun, yes," Connor nods, taking in the bit of information given. "I'm in." With that, he flashes a quick grin before he fires another arrow into the fray, meant to distract as he quickly darts into another corner, stalking the guy with the gun this time.

Vorpal smiles "I'll be ok... they won't see me coming." He says, and focuses, the illusion coming back up again and he runs in. The guy with the gun is approaching the far corner of the warehouse, while the other five are moving as a group, trying to get one of the doors unlocked. He looks in the direction in which Zen disappeared, and then steps towards the group of five.

The man, having inspected the corner and the area, curses and turns around, gun in his hand but not particularly aimed at something. "There's nobody here... he's gotta be outside!" "And I tell ya, I saw him here... Look!" That's Vorpal, and he points to one of the higher levels, where a silhouette steps out of the shadows and then vanishes abck into them as it moves- a quick illusion to create a distraction. It works, the goon raises his gun, trying to get a lock on the shadowy figure...

As the guy with the gun lifts it to shoot at the silhouette, Zen darts out to try and disarm him. The bow is hooked to a strap at his back as this seemed to call for some closer, hand-to-hand combat. The aim, at this moment, is to get the gun out of his hands and away from his reach.

The goon's attention was fixed on the upper levels, so he was taken by surprise by Zen darting at him-- it is relatively easy to disarm him and he lets out a startled cry, backpedaling and reaching for something- probably a knife in his jacket. The sound attracts the other five, who turn in the direction of the sound and, for a second, are glued to the spot when they see the young man they thought was one of them begin to fade away, leaving... well... Vorpal, and his cheshire grin. "Hello, kids."

Kicking the gun away, Zen continues his attack to try and keep his attention on him...and his hands away from any knife. He's not intending on beating the man senseless, but to get him to stop. If it means knocking him out, so be it. Only out of his periphery does he see Vorpal engaging the others.

Vorpal grins at the thugs, and then sprints towards one of the stairs with a mocking whistle. The stupefied gangsters recover their wits and chase after him, shouting viciously. It's clear that Vorpal's plan is not to engage all five, but to take them off Zen's back long enough for him to deal with the gunman and the two of them can take the otehrs down. He's fast and extremely agile, but he deliberately slows down as he winds up the stairs to give the goons the impression that they have a chance of catching him just yet.

The ex-gunner tries unsuccessfully to draw his knife, as Zen attacks him. He tries to put his corpulent build into a body slam-- but he's no match for Zen, clearly he is more of a gunner than a fighter, as his movements are slow and way too clumsy.

Zen may not be as big as his opponent, but he does seem to know how to fight. He doesn't play games, however...the point is to take the man down so that he is no longer a threat before moving on. Quite dextrous and quick on his feet, he dodges the attempted body-slam and aims a punch to the back of the ex-gunner's head to hopefully knock him out. It's a shame that the Vulcan Neck Pinch isn't a real thing in times like this.

The gang members stumble for a second, and hesitate as they look down to see the two vigilantes, their knives gripped tightly.
 * CONK*-- the man staggers for a second, and then his considerable bulk falls to the floor without ceremony, completely out cold. While neck pinches would be a nice thing, it is doubtful Mr. Spock could have handled it better. Meanwhile, Vorpal is racing down the upper platform with the five goons at his tail. When he sees the gunman go down he grins and jumps off the platform, hopping onto a box and flipping quite acrobatically before landing near Zen, crouching. "Nice job there!"

Zen glances over as Vorpal appears near him, "Thank you, you as well." He then looks up at the gangers above and raises his voice to carry, "You can leave now or you can end up like your friend here," he gestures to the downed man. He does his best to try and sound authoritative as he makes that announcement...as Green Arrow would! Vorpal grins, the cheshire grin becoming a little disturbing as, around them, coils of darkness rise from their shadows and stretch as high as fifteen feet in the air--- another illusion. "Oh, please, stay... It has been a long time since I've had... a plaything." The gangsters look at Zen, then look at Vorpal. Then back at Zen again, and then they make a break for it, running as fast as their feet carry them down the stairs and towards the exit, almost running over each other to come out. Connor Hawke's eyes widen as that actually worked! How about that! As the gangsters run out, he turns to the rather strange-looking Vorpal, "You don't have a cell phone to call the police, do you?" He goes to tie up the unconscious gunman for them to find and make sure the gun is out of reach, but visible.

Looking back he has to ask, "Were you really going to...uh. Play with them?" Vorpal stands up, shaking his head "Heh... I'm sort of ... homeless. No phone." He walks over to the tied up gunman and grins widely "Me? Oh, c'mon. That was just theatrics.You got them nervous enough that I decided a little bit of horror theater would get them running." He looks at him, feeling his heart beating fast due to all the excitement "... *are* you Green Arrow?"

"Me neither. Not homeless though...I'm staying at a Hostel in the city. Do...you need a place to stay?" Zen starts before he looks at the gunman as well. "I bet he has a phone." He'll rifle through the man's pockets to see if he can find one...what better way to call the police than by the gangster's own phone?

Looking over at the question, he doesn't answer immediately. He finally gives an enigmatic answer of, "Sort of." He does, indeed have a cell phone. Vorpal looks at Zen, smirking a little. "Sort of? I've never met a Sort of Green Arrow before. Then again, I've never met the Green Arrow. Or anyone, really. You're the first." He chuckles and grows a little quiet at the question "I make do with the abandoned warehouses in the area. Not a lot of places feel comfortable with someone who looks the way I do," he says.

Connor Hawke quickly makes the call to the police before setting the phone down near the gun. No need to bring it with him. That would be, after all, theft. "So that's how you look normally? I'm sorry, I haven't met too many who look like you...but that shouldn't be a reason for people to turn you away." He tries to stay away from the whole 'Green Arrow' issue though, "If you want...here." He steps over and holds out a key card. "Take my room there. I'm moving out anyhow and have some time still purchased."

Vorpal blinks, looking at the card. "But..." he pauses. He looks at Connor, frowning. "Who *are* you?" "Does it matter?" Connor offers with a grin, "I don't like the idea of people being homeless. If I can help in any way, I would like to. So you can come with me back there so you know where it is and I'll grab my stuff...there we go." "Well, I'd like to know the name of the man I kicked butt with tonight, for starters. I'm Keith... Vorpal on the field, I guess. I don't really hide who I am... Purple doesn't disguise easily." He doesn't explain the issue with the illusions, but it's implied that he probably can't keep them up as long as it would require for a secret identity. "S.. sure, we can head back, if you're done." He is uncomfortable with the thought of Zen moving out and letting him into the hostel room. He'll take a look and see how big the room is.. maybe he can convince the man not to move out and offer to trade in something for being allowed to stay. Such as dishwashing. God, he hated dishwashing.

"It's nice to meet you, Keith," is offered, but Connor is trying to move the subject away from his identity beneath the mask. "I'm done. I'd rather not be here when the police come. It might get awkward." He gestures towards the door, "It's a bit further downtown...but I saw that you can fly. Do you just want to meet there?" He'll be grappeling down, no doubt...and walking. And...hopping rooftops. The usual, vigilante travel methods.

Vorpal chuckles "I can't ....really fly. I can float. Slowly. I'll run after you." he smirks. "Race ya?" Connor Hawke blinks behind his mask, "You...want to race?" It takes him a moment to decide before he shrugs, "All right." He gives the count-down, "One...two...GO!" And he's off, an arrow nocked on the run so that he can fire the grappel arrow at a building to swing him along.

Vorpal laughs and vanishes into thin air, reappearing fifteen feet ahead and he sprints, enjoying having a bit of fun after risking getting his head shot off. Connor knows the way, so there's no way he's actually goin to win the race. But he's feeling slap-happy silly after the raid.