2012-11-10 Urban Renewal Project

SOMEWHERE IN SUICIDE SLUM AN UNSUSPECTING RESTAURANT


 * "Awright,"| Dirk Garthwaite - aka the Wrecker - murmurs as he shrugs his shoulder to better secure a small cell phone against his ear, |"I'm in position."|

Pen in one hand, half-empty glass of beer in the other, the (presently unmasked) supercriminal is scribbling on a napkin stained with ruby red flecks of mild sauce. His hulking body is draped in a heavy black trenchcoat that serves to conceal both his trademark crowbar and lime-green double-breasted costume jacket; it doesn't do much to hide his lime green denim pants, though. |"'Dozer, you with me?"|

NEARBY...


 * "Yeah, we're--"|

"Yo, is that the Wrecker? Yo! Yo, Wrecker, for real though, keep it one hundred wit' me," Excavator, the team's newest member hollers, "this van is magic? Like--/magic/, yo? Like, I'mma be hittin' the gas on this bitch--"

"Boy," Bulldozer growls from the back of the van, "I reckon that's about enough outta you, y' hear?"

"Yeah, but--" the boy begins to protest before catching a look at his helmeted teammate's murderous gaze reflected in the rearview window and immediately shuts up; his grip on the steering wheel tightens. The van is old, white, unmarked--at once indistinct and easily distinguishible amongst the array of other vehicles parked around it. They're taking up two handicapped spaces of a small strip mall where the only businesses in operation are a small furniture store and a check cashing service.


 * "Piledriver, I think that boy'a yours is gonna need a talkin' to when we get back to the safehouse..."|

A FEW BLOCKS AWAY...


 * "I know, I /know/,"| Piledriver grouses. Thunderball's got their phone held up to his teammate's mouth, lest he crush /another/ one in his massive, ensorceled hands; his wrecking ball is resting in a shallow divot in the asphault. |"All that friggin' MTV, and--"|


 * "Yes. Downfall of western culture. Terrible,"| Thunderball sarcastically says as he twists the phone towards himself, |"awful. Look. We're here--"| He gestures the phone around; the two enormous men are wearing trenchcoats like Dirk's as they loiter in the alley beside a block of row houses. |"--and most of these people are at work, like he requested. It's just--"|


 * "/What/,"| the Wrecker snaps.


 * "Job this size--seems like it could /pay/ a little more, don't you think?"|

BACK AT THE RESTAURANT

Dirk stuffs a few bills and that scribbled on napkin in with the check, shoves it all to the waitress, and watches her trip to the register. As she goes, he shifts the phone to his pen-hand and mutters, |"Whatever; you find anything valuable in those rat nests, you take it; the hell do I care? Long as I get my cut...oop--she's openin' it--awright, get ready..."|

Beneath a couple of crumpled 20s, the waitress finds a hastily scrawled note. "I'M ABOUT TO DESTROY THIS RESTAURANT," it reads across the top; beneath a few greasy stains, it goes on to say, "TEN SECONDS." Once her initial confusion begins giving way to horror, she looks up at the man, who is grinning right at her. He holds all of his fingers up, then slowly pulls one down against his palm.


 * "Go time,"| he murmurs into the phone.

Someone is hard at work, sunglasses on as she stands atop an old wrecked crane in Brown's Scraps. Anyone who can sense magical energy would pick up surges of... well, irregular power coming from within the scrapyard. She's working to try to attach a bolt that's bigger than her head into a hole on a large hunk of iron. Yes, she is using iron, not steel. Why? Well duh, it's based on the name.

Emmy is wearing what amounts to a belt, and wires running from said belt up to football shoulderpads, and wrappings all the way down her arms to a pair of hockey gloves with LED's and wires running into them. Somehow, these things work to increase her strength and let her handle this ginormous metal thing with less trouble than her petite form oughta have.

"Okay, just one more little tap.." she says as she taps the back of the bolt to try to get it into place, and that's when little miss clumsy technomage loses her grip. Strong? Yeah, nimble? Not so much. The huge iron bolt drops from her hands, hits the roof of the crane with a loud *KLANG!* before it literally bounces off of that surface and over the fence into the street. Emmy just stands there staring as it falls, glowering at it while muttering, "You try that one more time, I'm phasering you and starting from scratch. Hang on a sec Giant." she says, patting the ten foot tall head she's working on for her giant robot creation. "I'll be back in a sec with your jaw connector." Yes, she's talking to it like it's alive. Anyone here ever seen the movie: The Iron Giant? Yes, she's building -that- robot. It goes well with her new model Flying Winnebago, and all her other gadgets.

Blink has been in this reality for over a week now, and she is finally starting to feel like she can go outside without expecting the sky to fall on her head. Frankly, the fact she has gone a full week without being engaged in some sort of life-or-death battle feels like something of a personal record. And, well, Psylocke had suggested that she go out and try to get used to this place. It is relatively unsurprising that she'd gravitated towards the slums. Somewhere that reminds her of home.

Of course, she's also a mutant, and used to trying to keep to herself. So rather than go out all brazen and draw attention, she has secured a loose brown hooded sweatshirt which she's tugged on over herself, and the hood is drawn up tight. A jacket against the cold also helps to hide the quiver she carries underneath it, though does give her an oddly hunched appearance. Her gait as she wanders through the slum is, shuffling, peculiar, as she tries to take it in... without letting other people see her face.

Overall, Blink gets 0/10 for not sticking out, but these are the Suicide Slums. Misshapen, downtrodden, down-and-outers with a serious aversion to eye contact are not exactly uncommon. So whilst a few people do cross the street rather than deal with her, she's still yet to be attacked or even really harrassed.

Just as planned.

Something's about to go down..? In -Metropolis?- Domino almost laughed when she got the message, right up until discovering that it was a lead with a monetary value connected to it. A fair amount of zeroes accompanied it, nothing serious but nothing to scoff at. Fortunately for her, she's got a lightly used Audi and an open schedule. Not many opportunities to pull free of the grit of Gotham and New York to come out this way, but she goes where the work takes her. With a name like Suicide Slum, it turns out to be a little piece of home, after all.

She's parked not far off from where Piledriver and Thunderball are having at it over the phone, watching from a comfortable distance. People like that, they don't show up unless they're looking to cause some trouble. Looks like her intel was good, it might be a bit much for her to take on by herself but what's life without a few risks? Luck's always been on her side. And--lucky for her--that giant, free-falling bolt manages to -not- land on top of her car, but it's close! Dom jumps so high behind the wheel that she practically strikes the roof of the car with her head, "The frig?!" If that mishap just blew her cover...

Dreams are a nasty thing for Wesley Dodds. Too bad he needs the sleep to avoid them. Being a popular chemist at Rex Corp meant there is the occasional consulting gig for various contracts. He needs to be on his A-Game for the meetings and that means a good night sleep is -required-. Visions of a dinner, screams, chaos, bruises, blood, and a dead body run through his mind over the night.

Waking up the following morning Dodds tackles the day that would make the CEO and vice presidents proud. The entire time he carries a dufflebag talking about, "Hey, trips don't mean you should skip your workouts." These are lies. Inside the bag is the long trench coat, gas gun and mask, hat, and other goodies known to be used by Gotham's resident Dream Weaver, the Sandman.

When the meets end, Dodds searches about the back roads and dilapidated areas of Metropolis. The Diner, from the few glimpses he has, look to be in an area that could have used renovations. Eventually the Diner practically screams at him. Parking three blocks away down a sidestreet, Dodds parks his rental car. Everything except the mask is slipped on. He would be hard to identify, in the legal sense, with the green coat, gloves, and hat. The mask and gun were inside the long coat.

Seeing a woman with pink skin makes an eyebrow shift upward. "Could she be connected?" he thought. His eyes are focused on the woman, but not in a derogatory way. The dream missed this step, so now he is frantically trying to figure out why someone that is obvisously...something...to today's event, whatever it is. Hopefully they would be causing the dreams to not come true, but Dodds couldn't be certain.

To her credit, the waitress screamed her head off and bolted towards the fire alarm to evacuate the restaurant as quickly as possible, once she determined that the Wrecker was serious; as a result, diners and staff are rushing to make it to the exits before it's too late.

All the while, Dirk is calmly pulling his lavender mask on and freeing the crowbar from within his coat; as the last few stragglers begin pushing their way outside, he pushes himself to his feet to his feet, and gently taps the straight end of the tool on the ground. Tap, tap--nothing happens. Tap, tap--

*K-THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

Accompanied by a flare of magical energy that bursts through the diner's roof, the very earth beneath the establishment quakes violently at the Wrecker's command. Several civilians lose their feet as the ground bucks and twists beneath them, while the cars parked outside are crushed by the heaving asphault.

Down and across the street, an unmarked white van guns its engines and begins speeding around the lot until it's facing the end of the strip mall; after revving its engines once more, the vehicle races into the brick wall--

--and the wall practically /explodes/, leaving the van unharmed--and faintly aglow. "Yeah, bitch!" Excavator whoops from behind the wheel as he mows through a long-empty bank, "Magic!"

Near those row houses, Piledriver is /just/ about to haul off and put his fist through the back of someone's house when Thunderball grabs his shoulder and hisses, "Hey! Woah, hey! The /plan/, remember? Jesus!" Gesturing to a bullhorn at his feet, he begins to explain, "First, we--" only to be interrupted when an gigantic bolt falls from the sky.

He looks at his teammate; they're both fairly sure that /that/ one isn't on any of them.

"Stay here," Thunderball mutters, lifting his great iron ball as one might a bag of laundry. He creeps towards the street, leans out to peer at the thing, and is just about to report back to Piledriver when he sees a car parked nearby.

"The hell?" he mutters. "I thought--" He glances back at the mostly empty houses for a while, then shrugs and trudges back into the alley.

"Huh?" asks Emmy eloquently as she sees the eruption through the roof of the restaurant from her perch. "Hey! I buy breakfast there!" she exclaims. "Nobody detonates a magic grenade in -my- favorite diner!" That said, she forgets about the construction project she's working on, and jumps down off of her crane. Well, more like she runs down the ramp she had set up to get up there in the first place. At the bottom of the ramp, she steps onto her hoverboard that is always somewhere nearby. Shrugging out of her strength augmenting harness, she drops that on the ground and slips her jacket on before she straps on her gunbelt and hits the throttle. Good thing she installed G-Force compensators, or she'd be on her back with the board zipping away on its own.

Up up and... well and a turn to the right. Yes, the right. Nascar goes left, so she goes right. PHaser drawn, she comes flashing over the fence of the scrapyard and is aiming right for the restaurant. She has no idea if there's other wrinkles going on, but she's looking for other magical auras now as she slips her breath mask up over her mouth and nose, and activates the jacket's built in defenses.

Oh hey, mortal danger and sudden explosions. It really IS just like home!

The sudden explosion gets Blink's attention, and she starts towards it before she even really consciously realizes that she's doing it. It isn't until she sees the van start that she really realizes this isn't some accident... and even as that realization hits her, the van is hitting the wall.

BLINK!

That audible noise and a sudden flash of wrenching un-reality later, and Blink is touching down to the pavement just outside the ruined wreckage of the former wall. Her jacket is cast off, as is her hoodie, to reveal the fact that she is a bright purple elf girl, and not a magical one, either. Which probably means she's even more badass than regular elves.

The van isn't stopping, it is tearing around inside the mall, so she does the only thing she can think to do. One of those slender crystal javelins is hurled after the vehicle, with the intention of teleporting it to exactly where it is now... just, upside down. If this succeeds, her forwards gait will be more relaxed. If it doesn't, she'll be running as fast as she can to catch up. Either way, she's going to get answers out of these dweebs.

Alright, then. There's an explosion, screeching tires, and scrap metal falling from the sky. Two of these events happen to be exciting, promising of some action and adventure. The third one nearly landed her in the nearest morgue. It's..entirely possible that Domino chose poorly, out of the three places where she could have ended up.

Then the guy called Thunderball wanders out of the alley, looking -right at her.-

"Oh don't you notice me, don't you notice me you son of a--"

Then he turns around and walks back into the alley.

Dom releases a slow breath, but it's not over yet. Rather, it's just started. So..why aren't those two doing anything? Out of those three large-scale events, one of them had to be related! Does she bail now and throw away her cover in search of bigger and better things, or does she remain camped out for any signs of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum getting involved?

Chances are, if she wants to get paid then she needs to figure out which one of the targets is a priority mark. Eyes and ears are open. The engine turns over and idles. She's gotta admit, the suspension in this new sports sedan is lovely. When that explosion went off, she barely felt a thing!

The explosion rattles Dodds and provides the perfect cover to slip on the mask. Before he realizes the woman with the hood is umm...no longer there. He would normally investigate how someone just blinked out of thin air, but there is no time for that. Heading toward the crunching sound of metal meeting brick Dodds pulls out the gas gun. The gun has been ready since this morning's fifth cup of coffee. Trying to run from sleep made you a big caffeine addict. What is one cup of coffee for the average joe is his third to fifth, depending on the day and nerves.

Staring at the area, when he gets there Dodds notes the elven woman. "What do we got!?" the question comes out as he realizes the woman is an ally...at least for the moment. The yellow metal mask with the gas-mask and alien-like design peek out from the shadows created by his hat. His lenses look over everything before he adds, "If I shoot...get behind me."

The Wrecker's aura is considerable, and that power - channeled through the conduit of his crowbar - is what caused the sudden earthquake. It's also moving--towards a wall of the restaurant that buckles and eventually collapses, the closer it gets; that wall faces a gas station where patrons have already wisely chosen to peel the hell out of there before the freak seismic activity reaches /them/.

"Goddamn," he exhales with a grin as he steps over wreckage into the light of day, "I still got--" His eyes snap towards the scouting mad scientist. "--what the--" Shading his eyes with his empty hand, he squints up at Emmy for a couple of seconds, then shrugs, rears back, and hurls the crowbar into the sky. "Hey, you!" he gleefully hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"This' a construction zone--best get movin' before you get hurt!"

Across the street, the van is breaching an empty store front when suddenly--it's upside down, throwing its occupants for a loop. "Augh!" Excavator moans as he's nearly thrown through the windshield, then ends up dangling from his safety belt with a death grip on the wheel as he's violently rocked about. "What the fuck, yo'?! he squeals. "Yo, this magic shit--Wrecker didn't say /shit/ about this shit when he was--"

"Shut. Up," Bulldozer grimly instructs. The helmeted criminal is braced against the turbulence as best as its confines and his great size will allow. "Keep your damn head, and I'll see what all this fuss is about."

"What?! But--but the van's--" The terrified boy turns his wide-eyed stare on his teammate--who tumbles out the rear doors of the van rather than stick round to answer the question.

Gulping, Excavator turns his attention forward. The van is about halfway through that abandoned store space, now; Blink's teleportation slowed it considerably, but the capsized vehicle is still barrelling dangerously, impossibly through the strip mall.

Making matters worse, Bulldozer locks eyes on the elf and the Sandman as soon as he's on his feet. Being that they're in Metropolis, a costumed response was expected; being that he was in jail only a few short weeks ago, he can't quite contain the ruthless smile that spreads across his lips as he puts his head down and charges towards the two heroes.

"This city," Thunderball disparagingly says, gesturing vaguely towards the street as he returns to his post. With that, he scoops up the megaphone and gestures towards the house with a tip of his chin; Piledriver brings his fist back, snickering.

"Attention!" Thunderball broadcasts; the word is punctuated by a sledgehammer-like punch that crumples most of that house's wall, exposing its empty kitchen. "These homes have been scheduled for demolition! Anyone still in their homes is advised to vacate--this is your first and only warning!"

With blow after thunderous blow, Piledriver seems intent on bringing the building down quickly; between the announcement and the impossible to ignore sounds, those inside the other houses waste little time in grabbing whatever they can carry and getting the hell out.

She's mad, well angry... some might call her mad anyway. Anyhow, Emmy has an incoming crowbar. She would try to evade it but... she's too distracted staring at the mystical aura on the damned thing. "You powered up... a crowbar? What kind idiot ar... OOF!" And the crowbar strikes her in the chest. It's a good thing her feet are strapped to the board, and her jacket's defenses hold but barely. The shielding spell built into it is diminished for the moment and she's sailing backwards in the direction of the throw.

It's entirely possible that the Wrecker might think she's dealt with, but she regains control eventually, pops up the holographic targeting system atop her phaser pistol (Yes, a prop right from Star Trek 6) and sets it to stun. After all, she doesn't use kill unless she really REALLY needs to. When the sights line up, she pulls the trigger and sends a blue beam towards Wrecker.


 * Phewwwwwwwwww!* Yes, it sounds like a star trek phaser too folks. Enjoy!

There's one law in fighting that Mister Creed taught Blink, and that is that playing fair is a game for the dead. She's unsurprised when the man responsible for this destruction - at least, this corner of it, as far as she can tell - decides to forego speaking and instead charge directly at herself and her new found, masked friend. "I don't know." She says, honestly, as she watches the man put his head down and charge. "They seem to want to wreck the place." See? Blink can pay attention to things too! "If this works... shoot the van. If it doesn't, dodge!"

Apparently, she intends to follow the latter part of her advice regardless, as the purple elf takes to the air, and another javelin is brought smoothly from her quiver. Tracking the motion of the man charging with his head down isn't especially difficult, but she has no idea what effect hitting Bulldozer with it is going to have. There's only one way to find out.

Hurling the javelin down, she aims to strike the man, and position him - with no loss of momentum - on the far side of the van. Frankly, if he wants to bring indestructible, careening vehicles into the mall, he can deal with the impact! She's almost certain that this isn't going to /kill/ him.

If the javelin misses, there's a good chance that a section of floor will take the charging man's place instead. Either way, she's more worried about her new friend and the possibility that they, now that they've tangled themselves up in this, may not easily be able to untangle themselves. What she would really like now is a team she could rely on...

It is always the moments before impact, when the javelin and the target are awaiting collision, that hang in the balance for Blink. The die has been cast, and everything could go so catastrophically wrong if she isn't very, very careful!

Now there's someone bellowing into a megaphone. Just like that, Domino has a priority target! Go figure, it's the two that she had been watching over all along. Though, the way that one guy is knocking walls down suggests that trying to ram either of them with her car is probably not the smartest move she could make. All her luck, someone will probably find a way to drop a thermite grenade onto the hood of -this- one, too.

Besides, there's others in the area already rushing forward to try and stop this mess. They have powers, they can get away with that sort of thing! (And hopefully that earthquake is somehow involved...) Domino..kinda..can't so much. It's kind of ironic that luck only really begins to favor her when she's deliberately doing crazy stupid things.

The albino merc climbs out and pops the trunk, pausing long enough to give that lady on a hoverboard up in the sky a peculiar look (did she just take a crowbar..?) before promptly shoving gear around in the back. Machine pistol..too weak. Battle rifle..can do better. Rocket launcher..currently needing to be replaced, -thank you very much, Batman.- ..Hmm. Plasma rifle. This should do. Now what was it that Cable did with this thing, before..? It was this dial, right?

Alright, that may have been a lucky guess. With a low hum that rises in pitch, Dom's energy slinger goes hot. Now one tiny little albino with a big scary weapon is walking around to get a clear shot on Piledriver, shouldering the peculiar piece of hardware and cutting loose with a superheated particle bolt. She's seen one of these weapons flip and explode a car before. Let the games begin!

Before Dodds finishes his statement Bulldozer is hit with a crystal javelin. A second later he blinks out of existence and then back into it. Now he's running full tilt toward the upside down van. "That's how she does it," Dodds thinks for a split second as Bulldozer hits the upside down van.

Seeing an opportunity Dodds moves into place shooting the gas gun. A cloudy haze starts to fill the area near the van. If the big guy didn't go down at least his vision was impaired. Dodds just waits to see if the big guy would need to take big gulps of air infused with the sleeping compound of his own creation.

His guard stays up until he sees a sleeping body. An exploding roof, falling lugnuts, teleportations, anything is to be expected today. One thing is certain though...Dodds knows to never make the elven girl mad. Maybe if he stays on her good side, she would elect to be his travel agent. The javelin's would save him hundreds in airfare.

After bouncing off of Emmy's jacket, the crowbar flies erratically for a couple of feet before turning and locking into a direct arc towards its owner's outstretched hand. Meanwhile, the Wrecker continues on towards the gas station; the crowbar will find him soon enough, he figures, "Hah," he snorts, stepping over the short strip of concrete separating the two lots, "easy enough; Superman my--"

The mystical phaser interrupts Dirk's train of thought and sends him stumbling back a step as the world briefly blinks out around him. Blinking his eyes, he pauses and tries to shake off the sudden jag of fatigue; using the crowbar as he has tends to wear him out /eventually/, but he's only just getting started--or so he thought. Just as he begins to open his mouth to yawn, though, the crowbar snaps into his hand, and in a blink(a non-magenta one, even), he's envigorated. Grimacing, he lifts his face and scans the skies until--there; the curled top of the crowbar glimmers a little as his gaze moves towards Emmy. Of course, that wee glimmer blossoms into a scintillating beam of destructive arcane energies once the technomage is spotted and the criminal takes a moment to line up a shot. Unlike Emmy, the Wrecker has never, ever believed in setting /anything/ to 'stun'.

Across the way, Bulldozer is having a /much/ harder time remaining conscious: Blink's initial dart was spot on - maneuverable, Bulldozer ain't - which left him sucking wind against the crumpled flank of the van. When he slammed into the van, the vehicle went skidding into the next store - the furniture shop, thankfully abandoned by that point - before coming to rest, and before he could recover, gas started filling the air.

So now, the big man is stumbling away from the wreckage, his tree trunk-like limbs lashing out wildly as he tries to fight off the effects of the gas. His eyes are fluttering - it's a battle that he very well might lose - but a man of his size can /still/ do plenty of damage going down.

Excavator, meanwhile, hastily rolls the windows up and stares at the rising gas clouds outside.

Down by the row houses, Piledriver is blasted mid-punch, sending him flying across the exposed ruins of a living room. Growling, the hulking, smoldering blonde picks himself back up almost as quickly as he fell and quickly looks around, trying to get a peek at his attacker through all the dust from the day's work. Out in the alleyway, Thunderball - already swinging the weapon for which he's named - creeps away from his teammate, and like Piledriver, he's looking for a target.

Unlike Piledriver, he isn't so reliant on having that target here in front of him; after a few seconds of fruitless searching, he rears back and swings the wrecking ball in a wide arc, smashing through walls and trash cans as he tries to force Domino out of hiding.

"Hah!" calls out Emmy as she sees the signs of the guy weakening, but then the crowbar returns, and she can -see- the energy surge into the Wrecker, "Hey! No fair!" she calls out. "You're cheating!" And she doesn't wait around to get shot at. She kicks in the throttle and dips downward, narrowly evading the el-destructo-beam of doom as she charges towards the guy. She holsters the phaser and calls out at the top of her lungs. "Suck lightsaber *BLEEP!*" Yes, Emmy cursed. I don't have the heart to type it out though. But she's trying to do a flyby slash. Odds are she'll do more damage to the walls and such than to the Wrecker, but it is a plasma field contained by magic and it does cut much like one would imagine a lightsaber would. The blade? Well, good thing you asked. It's Blue-white. No sith here!

Blink is quietly impressed by the gas gun. That certainly seems like an effective piece of equipment. Whilst she wishes there could have been a less destructive way to bring the van to a halt, the important thing is, it is down now. The girl doesn't rush forward any more. She's got no interest of getting within arm's reach of the big guy OR the man she can now see rolling his window up. Instead, it is time to get threatening. Because that might end this little bit of chaos before it gets any worse.

"That's enough of that." She says, loudly and clearly. "You people have done enough damage today. Back down now, and you'll sleep it off in a jail cell instead of outer space."

She's mostly bluffing, but she has brought a javelin to both hands, and they've seen more than enough of her strange powers to know that she's capable of bouncing them around the place if she wants to. Maybe the threat of a low-orbit vacation will be enough to bring these two in whilst there's still a mall worth saving to worry about!

Well, Domino's getting the fight that she wanted. Piledriver goes flying--dang but this is an awesome rifle!--but it's officially placed her within this fight. Against the baddies. She's enjoying herself too much to care. "Strike!"

Have you ever gotten the peculiar feeling..that perhaps..now might be a great time to--

Jump!

Walls are getting shredded behind her. Glass explodes into thousands of points of light. Like a scared armadillo Domino jumps, somehow fortunate enough in her timing to do a backflip clear over the chain attached to that wrecking ball as the world around her explodes in shrapnel. The glass becomes a problem, but between the armor and a heavy trench she misses most of it. But not all of it.

Wrecking balls are a lot like laser sights, once they're employed they lead straight back to the source. Land, crouch, follow back to Thunderball, and off goes the second shot from her rifle. It's getting a little hot around here, how well is her new gun going to keep them down? She might actually do better out in the open, in which case she needs to -get- there! Time to run, quick like a bunny.

Seeing that the big guy is still up, Dodds mutters, "Crap!" Bulldozer is showing the signs of slowing down, which is great. Being on his feet is still a -BIG- problem. "COME ON!" Dodds screams with a taunt trying to get the attention of the big guy. "Fsheeeee," more gas moves through the air as Dodds takes another shot. The strategy is simple, get in close and gas Bulldozer, move out of the way, and taunt the big guy. Hopefully the taunts would cause Bulldozer's intent focused on Dodds so property damange can be minimal.

When Emmy holsters the gun and decides to try her odds in close quarters, the Wrecker's disappointment at having failed to blow her out of the sky transforms into glee. Beady eyes carefully trace the science-witch's descent, moving only when her lightsaber flares and demands his attention. Wrapping both hands around the crowbar, he pulls it back and circles the end of it around a little, as if preparing to knock one out of the park. "Sweetcheeks, I got news for ya," he sneers as she closes in.

"I used t' kick nerds around for /fun/ as a kid--" In a flash, he lashes out with one hand to grab at the lapel of Emmy's coat, meaning to smash her straight into the ground behind him. "--yer outta your element here!"

"Yo, outer space is whack as /shit/!" Excavator screeches in a voice at least an octave higher than his norm as problems continue to mount at the strip mall "I ain't--" His eyes nervously shift from his teammate gasping for air amidst billowing gas and the magenta elf threatening to space him, to the shovel sticking halfway out of the back of the van--/his/ shovel. The one his daddy promised would make a /man/ out of him. "I--" Beads of sweat pop out on the boy's brow as he considers his options... until finally, he unbuckles his belt and makes the crawl towards the rear of the van.

Along the way, he grabs the shovel; as soon as he stumbles out into the open, he charges at Blink, shovel raised high.

"I ain't tryin' to mess with no aliens, yo! I got magic--you ain't got /nothin'/ on this!" is his battle cry.

Bulldozer's sheer size means that sometimes, the lumbering, lurching brute can't help but stumble through walls and displays as his magically-charged system fights a pitched battle against the Sandman's sleeping gas. Given some time - and fresh air - he would no doubt recover, great as the Norn Queen's magics are; given neither, it's only a matter of time before he goes down. "C'mon," the Southerner slurs as he takes a few great, wobbly steps towards the Sandman, fists flailing the whole way. "Yankee--friggin'--" Another vicious cross is thrown through thin air; the follow-through sends him stumbling towards a Sleep Number display, and when his foot hits the bottom of its stand, it's all over; the brute crashes face first into the mattress, and barring a few groans, he seems to be down.

Domino's second shot catches Thunderball square in the chest, staggering him; his weapon continues in its deadly arc, however, even as he clutches his smoking chest--though there isn't a lot of direction to it at the moment; it just keeps spinning overhead, and few a few seconds at least, it won't be destroying anything--if only because it's /already/ done its share of damage in the immediate area.

Now that he's recovered, Piledriver is running too--through the demolished front of a house and into the wreckage his teammate has created. Any debris that gets into his way, he sends flying with a swing of his mighty, oversized fists. Thunderball may not have seen where the shot came from, but /he/ did--and he means to find the shooter before she's able to visit any more havoc upon them.

Blink isn't sure what to make of the battlecry. Magic? Well, it'd explain some things, and Blink isn't ready to discount anything as being totally impossible. She's even prepared to believe that the shovel being wielded at her is a genuine threat. Stranger things have happened, and whilst she's not prepared to space the shovel-wielding maniac, she's seriously worried that if she doesn't do something, she's going to get seriously hurt.

Blink's movements are almost entirely instinct. He comes for her, and she is in the air again. Before he can really react, the purple-skinned woman has whipped her leg around, and smashed her foot heel-first into his jaw. There's not much forgiveness in Blink's fighting style, even if it doesn't have a particular name to it. What it could be called in this situation is CRACK!

Blink... seems faintly surprised that the blow works quite as well as it does, as the unfortunate boy is forced to drop to the ground. Did she just... break his face? She almost sounds apologetic when she speaks up. "Uh... what's, your next trick?" Though, she's not sure the poor guy is even conscious. It'd... probably be a small mercy if he isn't. Dang. She's used to fighting people who can /take/ a kick like that!

Eep-Thud! Ever wondered what that really sounds like. Well, for those who were listening closely, it just happened for Emmy. She flails away with her saber, likely burning the guy a little bit, but c'mon, this guy fights Thor... Then she's bashed into the ground, and her shielding effect is already weakened. When the smoke clears, it's gone and she's just... a normal person.

"Ow.." she mutters as she loses her grip on that fancy weapon of hers. The cylinder rolls from her grip and the hoverboard sputters but stops too. It's still attached to her feet amazingly, but one of those ankles is wrenched in a -bad- looking direction. Emmy would try a smart mouthed remark, but her brain is too addled for that. It's amazing she's even conscious at this point. When you pick a fight with the bull, you get the horns. Yep!

Y'know what would be great right now? A freaking teleporter. Domino can hear the buildings getting plowed through as Piledriver recovers and comes after--who else?--her.

"Aw, hell."

Target practice instantly turns into a Daisy versus Goliath free for all, the albino charging down between the houses as things start to crumble behind her. Indiana Jones would be proud. It's not quite time to start searching for a miracle, but her comfort zone is getting mighty tiny.

Ricochet? No good. He's eating -houses- without breaking a sweat. Can't rely on him tripping, she needs to be looking at the guy to have any margin of a guarantee there. What force might be big enough to bring this guy down that Dom can have any hope of affecting?

Why, that would be Thunderball.

Out sprints the monochromatic merc, charging right for Thunderball, firing once from the hip as she goes. It might hit him, it might miss him, it might slag a hole in the pavement for her to dive down into for cover, it might lead to Emmy's lightsaber striking down from above, who knows what's going to happen! What she's banking on is that humongous ball and chain of his clocking Piledriver into next Tuesday. Or..you know. Something. Because that's kinda how things work with her. Do something crazy, do something stupid, and watch as everything neatly falls into place.

It might work.

It might hurt something fierce if it doesn't.

Bulldozer is a big guy. While he is slowing doing a big guy like him meant big muscles. Weaving in and out only lasted so long before Dodds is swatted away. A gentle tap from Bulldozer knocks Dodds down. Seconds later a large thud followed by the sounds of a breaking display.

Sitting up, the hero ignores his pain before snagging his hat. Straightening out his coat and putting his hat back in the proper place, Dodds walks toward the van as if nothing happened. Peeking out from the hole he catches the elf taunting the big guy.

"Better listen to the lady," the sound of his gas gun readying another shot moved through the air. A smile spread over his face under the mask, "I put down one of you with help from my lilac skinned friend. I'd be happy to return the assist," he says firmly. "That is..if she misses. Take it from me, you didn't see how good she was with a javelin. Ever picture what would happen if she threw one of those at you and just had it opens up at the edge of the Stratosphere. Magcal goodies or not, it would take a Superman to catch you...I don't see red and blue around here, do you?" The bluff is empty but Dodds could see the horrors of making a teleporter angry. All they had to do is focus on skyward...and well you would be making a mess on the streets below after a long fall. Hopefully the other big guy wouldn't be as slow witted as Bulldozer.

EARLIER

"Yeah, so, uh," Piledriver nervously mutters into his hotel room phone, "got m' boy with me for a while, now. His mom's--'s a whole friggin' thing. Long story, you know. Anyway, I was thinkin', maybe we get 'im, I dunno, a sledgehammer or somethin', make him part'a the Crew--make a /man/ outta him--"

o/~ Giiiiiiiiiiiirl, drop it to the flooooooooor... o/~ Excavator croons from the bed adjacent to his dad's. With his headphone buds in, he is firmly in his own world right now; just as well, because he doesn't notice the look of disgust his pop shoots him as he continues, o/~ ... I loooooove the way yo' booty goooooooo! All I wanna dooooooo... o/~

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Wrecker mutters, a few doors down from Piledriver and son. He tuned out somewhere around 'boy', and now he's largely focused on idly flipping through the hotel's slection of adult channels. Worrying about other people's kids has never really been his thing.

NOW

When Blink up and kicks him in the face, the first thing Excavator thinks is that his Asgardian-enchanted shovel was probably oversold, a little. The second is--well--nothing; his next trick is falling to the ground unconscious.

At least Metropolis' hospitals are state of the art.

The wild plasma discharge slices through the twisted remnants of a row house, casting a cloud of drywall into the air as a free-standing wall is vaporized. The unexpected debris shower forces the rampaging Piledriver to squeeze his eyes shut with a yelp of surprise, just as his fist smashes through a fallen awning. "Goddamn--I got you now, girl!" he screams. He tries to open his eyes - to get a bead on Domino - but he can't manage it for long; as soon as he sees /something/, he sets his jaw and charges, fists lashing out wildly.

Meanwhile, Thunderball is trying to slow his weapon down without stopping it entirely, lest he inadvertantly smash Piledriver with it; it's an effort which doesn't afford him much of an opportunity to go on the attack. "Stay focused, Piledriver!" he demands; his eyes are also shut, despite the heavy weapon he's swinging around above himself. "Don't let her throw you off your--" Just then, he can feel his chain hit something--and whatever it is is /hard/; rather than just cut through, the chain wraps around the obstacle, and making matters worse, the thing is /moving/. Thunderball barely has a moment to register his surprise before he's hauled off of his feet and dragged along the alley by the end of his wrecking ball.

Soon enough, Piledriver will stumble out of the drywall cloud and fall face first to the ground, with Thunderball's chain wrapped around his legs and the crushing weight on the end rolling off of his back.

As for that plasma beam?

"Well, well," the Wrecker murmurs, circling the grounded technomage and smacking the crowbar into his upturned palm. "What've we got--"


 * ZAAKT!*

The green and lavender-attired villain lurches forward when a burst of plasma slams into his back from /nowhere/. Scowling, he quickly looks this way and that, trying to find the shooter, and comes up empty. "You think you're /smart/?" he snarls, turning his eyes back down to Emmy. "What the hell was that, huh? 'nother dopey Trek Wars piece'a crap, huh? Huh?!"

"High yield plasma blast from the sound of it." mutters Emmy as she lies there. She uses a hand to try to sneak her phaser out of its holster. The other hand is reaching into her music CD case, far more obviously. In that case, are several CD's that are decorated with LED's, wiring, and other useless crap. She's hoping he'll notice that, and not her trying to sneak her gun into her hand. If this works, the odds are she'll be picked up, or pinned down. Either way, she's gonna try to whip that phaser out on kill now, and fire a plasma beam into the guy's mug. Of course, she sees three of him, so she's taking advice from Rocky IV. Hit the one in the middle.

Blink looks down at the boy. Really, she doubts that he had any idea what he was doing here. Raving about magic, waving a shovel around like a lunatic. It is only now that the immediate danger to her has passed that the purple girl looks around at the devastation that has been wrought. It, is a lot better htan it would have been if she hadn't intervened, she's sure, but even just a glance outside confirms that it is also nowhere near good enough. And soon, she's sure, the authorities will be turning up and asking questions she doesn't want to answer. Like, 'are you a mutant?' And 'Do you even have a social security number?'

Blink has no interest in trying to figure out where she should be deported to. She's done a good thing here, but, she's not even sure where to start with the situation outside - and she's positive she wants to be out of here before niggling concerns start to pop up. So instead, she calls out to Sandman; "Thank you for your help. You probably want to get the kid to hospital, I think I broke his jaw."

And then, well...

Blink!

Sometimes, things just plain work. Shoot, dive, roll, and come back around to see the aftermath of one snap decision, courtesy of instinct and what amounts to divine freaking intervention. There's no real justification for any of it, Domino just managed to manipulate the numbers into her favor.

Granted she also claimed quite a bit of collateral damage on that little stunt, but hey!

On one side there's someone teleporting out of nowhere, and some other odds and ends like an overturned van. Golly, the things that she missed back there... On the other side, a tangle of baddies. Good fortune brought her this far, might be a good time to stop relying on it. She's got a scary big rifle, and she's in much better shape than the other guys are. Is it time to be cocky?

It totally is.

"You kids might want to reconsider your options, 'cause I'm just getting warmed up!" Dom challenges the remaining few. Clear line of sight, good shooting stance, and a somewhat demoralized group of opponents. She really doesn't want to risk melting anyone today, it isn't her goal.

Also, that lightsaber chick looks like she could use a hand over there. One thing at a time..!

Seeing the guy give in to unconsciousness, Dodds gives a shot of sleeping gas as a precaution. Pulling out the nearly spent cartridge, Sandman puts in a fresh one. "Clack," the gun echoes as he reloads. These big guys needed a LOT. Running down the path of destruction he does his best to avoid the tangled web of a ball and chain mishap gone horribly and funnily arry.

Seeing the man with the bad green and purple attire, there's not really a lot to do except for one thing. Debris is everywhere thanks to a diner missing a roof, a crashed van, smashed buildings, and the other chaos. Picking up a stone Sandman tosses it at the guy. Whether the rubble hit the guy or not, it didn't matter. Another piece is thrown. Then another.

When there's enough pieces thrown at the big guy to gain his attention Sandman gives a wave. "Try picking on someone your own size!" Yeah...the line is pretty lame, but a distraction is still a distraction. Best case scenario whoever the purple and green guy has pinned down would do something or the taunting sniper would do something. Worst case scenario, this would be Dodds second big guy to avoid tonight.

"Nngh--" Thunderball sees something big and blue right in front of his face; as his vision clears, he's able to follow it up to a muscular red calf and thigh--and then the former doctor notices that his chain is coiled around them. Confused, his eyes dart from the fallen Piledriver towards the arrogant albino standing above them, blinking madly all the while. As the pieces fall into place, he picks himself up and gives the chain a hard yank, only to discover that it and Piledriver and too tightly entertwined; the former farm-hand is jerked along the ground, but the wrecking ball itself doesn't really go anywhere.

"Yeah," he mutters, lifting his narrowed eyes to Domino, "Great minds, and all."

And then... he starts running. He /is/ nice enough to keep ahold of the chain so that his teammate isn't left behind, but Piledriver will probably not be too happy when he wakes up.

Emmy's plasma burst lights the crowbar-wielding thug up, obscuring his face entirely for the few seconds that it's bathed in searing hot plasma; a cry of shock rises up over the report of the weapon.

When the smoke clears, he is singed, grimacing, and shakily raising his crowbar overhead... only to be interrupted by a rock breaking against the back of his head. "Are you outta your /mind/?" he snarls, whirling around to find Sandman. "Who--you! You tryin' to die, big man? You wanna--"

The sirens of the Science Police blare in the distance; the dozens of 911 calls coming from the area have /finally/ gotten a response, and their imminent arrival draws a growl from the criminal. "Son of a--guess I'll just have t'--"

Out of the corner of an eye, he sees Thunderball trying to drag Piledriver away from their assigned target; when a quick glance around turns up no sign at all of Bulldozer and Excavator, he heaves a disgusted sigh and turns away from the Sandman to join his teammates in fleeing.

"--rain check, y'hear me!" he screams as he tries to make his escape. "I ain't goin' back to jail!"

".. think I'll just take a nap now.." mutters Emmy. And she's out like a light. Any observers might actually think she oughta have contacts, one reading OUT, and the other COLD. She's got a broken ankle, two fractured ribs, and a lot of bruises, but... she's alive and the bad guys are fleeing. There's that, right? Anyhow, she just lies there, ankle still twisted in her hoverboard's foot-straps as her hand flops back down and lets go of her prop weapon.

Is someone honestly..throwing -rocks?!-

When the two entwined baddies make their escape, Domino turns to stare at Sandman over there, expression a mix of disbelief and barely suppressed cackling. The beauty of it all is that it -actually works,- Crowbar Dude picks up his act and runs off to gods know where. The man in the mask gets a playful salute from the black and white mercenary, "Nice play!"

Okay, crud. Sirens, badly injured person, big gun, sports sedan. She's going to go ahead and put the latter three together before the former one can get in her way. Emergency hospital run, ho!

That's really the beauty of giving aid to the unconscious. You don't have to worry about introductions. Maybe Emmy will come back around with an extra business card that hadn't been there before, but beyond that, why complicate things? Dom will do her last good deed of the day then find a nice bar in town to clean up the evening with.