2013.05.13 - Angel Falling

The evening is falling, and with the rain passing, it's left something of a cooler air. The city is a little brighter for the sun setting later, but that's not only it. Coloured lights dot the city as the night life begins in earnest.. the beginning of the season, as it were. More cars are in the streets, more pedestrians on the sidewalks- more and more.. everything.

Including crime.

Including heroes.

Outside of Broadway, theatre alley as it were, theatres are letting their ticket holders in, and as the ushers open the doors, security is a little tighter, thanks to all the recent occurrences.

At Phantom of the Opera, the door ushers are dressed as the main character, 'Erik', and give the patrons pause. All quiet.. and all very mundane.

For the moment.

It's a perfect night to be flying, especially at sunset. The city is set aglow by the setting sun hitting the chrome and glass of the buildings, making them look almost magic. It's Warren's favorite time to be out flying.

Dressed somewhat casually for him in slacks and a very-good quality t-shirt, he makes his way over the lights of Broadway and Times Square, circling about the neon lights and tall buildings a few times, watching the tourists mill about.

People are still going to 'Phantom'? Those are some wealthy bastards, ripping off Puccini and having it run that long!

Now, the man in an angel's wings is known. Well known, in fact. There are always those on the ground that keep a weathered eye up in the hopes of seeing one hero or another. Or, barring that, someone strange and slightly exotic. While 99.9% of people wouldn't know Angel from Adam, there are a good number who read the papers. See and be seen in the city!

So, there are a few that do look up and see the silhouette in the sky, pointing and teenagers dancing about. ''It's a guy! Flying up there!'' and who knows how many blurry, out of focus pictures of Warren Worthington III will be posted in Instagram?

Many.

Though there's another who has done research. A lot of research. Time studies. Habit studies.. and while part of this is pure luck, a good portion of discovering the airborn Worthington's whereabouts is by research. And a precog on the payroll. (Which is even more important!)

So.. settled behind the neon lights of a theatre, sits a man, watching and waiting.. before he looks down for a likely looking small group of tourists.

There...

A group of tourists that disembark from a tour bus look wide-eyed and quite pleased. They chatter happily, their eyes like saucers as they look everywhere, trying desperately to take everything in.. and just can't.

Two minutes later, as the bus begins to pull away, there's the sound of a shot ringing out...

*blam*

Immediately after, one of the tourists, an young woman (around 23), goes down.. a red spot on her leg growing.. Angel turns his head sharply at the sound of the gunshot. After 9/11, such violence in the city has been much rarer, and in Times Square, nearly unthinkable! His eagle-eyes peer down at the commotion in the crowd in time to see the girl with the bloody leg. Those eyes flick about as if trying to find the perpetrator before his cell phone is whipped out and 911 called. The call is nearly finished as he lands not far from the girl, assuming that the crowd makes enough space for him.

"Times Square...outside the Majestic Theater. Gunshot in the leg...I couldn't see the shooter." The phone is closed and shoved back into a pocket even as he moves to crouch by the girl, "Are you all right? Can you talk?" He also looks to see just how bad her leg seems to be.

And there.. there as was foretold. Well, okay.. as seen.

There is a reason as to the placement of the shooter, and that single shot is all that he requires for the moment. Though, there will be another.. 'moment'. Coming so very soon.

Screams come from the group the moment that they realize that 1. It wasn't the sound of a car or bus backfiring, and 2. There is a red stain growing on the girl's thigh. Shock and disbelief begin to set it as her friends nearby begin screaming, 'Ohmygod! Ohmygod!' at the top of their lungs.

The landing of an impeccably dressed (and attractive) man with wings only takes all that up a notch. Some scatter, and the girl who was hit is crying and trying to figure out a way to get out of the line of fire that isn't happening now..

"It hurts!!!" That's how it is.. and the bus is gone, or she'd somehow crawl around it for cover. "Ohmygod.. you.. you.."

The question though, is 'is she going to bleed out from the wound'? That's really Warren's concern. He's trying not to let the world know his other power...gruesome, yet effective as it is. He has no desire to be stuck in a lab somewhere for the rest of his life...or his blood drained from him for research. If the girl's going to lose her life over the shot though, he might risk it.

"I know...I know it hurts," he offers in what he hopes is a soothing voice. "Help is on the way. They should be here any moment." He looks around at the crowd before pulling his own shirt off to press on the wound to hopefully stem the flow of blood.

No real danger of her bleeding out; the hit didn't nick an artery. Unbeknownst to the Angel is that it was a rubber bullet. It's not even particularly that far in. It is.. a lure. A rather good one, apparently.

As the shirt is pulled off and wrapped about a leg, the girl looks honestly appreciative.. she does.

It's not a second after, however, that the smile of 'ohthankgod' turns something more sinister as Warren's attention is to the first aid. She reaches behind her before a hand rises, and a hypo comes out to plunge into the side of his neck.

Should this miss, well.. there is still the sniper on the roof of the theatre, behind the busy neon sign...

Angel doesn't have super-strong skin or unnaturally quick reflexes, so he doesn't see the needle until the moment before it plunges into his neck. His eyes widen and he tries to pull away, but the damage seems to have been done.

And there.. there it is. The plunger is pushed in, and a serum seeps into the mutant's bloodstream. She smiles as she looks at her handiwork before looking down at her leg. Damn, that's going to sting, but given a couple of days? Right as rain..

The police sirens are still far out, and for a few long moments linger in the night's air. By the time the police get there, however, the winged one and the wounded one (plus a couple of bystanders) will be long gone.. with any luck.