|Net Arrows and Origins|
|What: Hawk and Arsenal cross paths|
It's a point for patience when Hawk manages NOT to attack that familiar face on the street. She's seen the guy before, managing to get away from a botched robbery. She decided to tail him, which in turn led her to this quiet, dark, terrible little piece of existence that is a back alley in Brooklyn. Dark to the point where she didn't realize she had walked right into a set up. Hey, it happens to everyone, right?
"I really don't like babes in tight white followin' me around... so we're gonna have to teach you a lesson..."
The six others coming out of the shadows echo the man's words, adding a 'yeah!' or something similar, all of the wielding makeshift weapons - baseball bats, crowbars and the like. Hawk, for her part, looks entirely unimpressed.
"Really? See, I'd think you'd be thrilled to see a babe that looked good in tight whites follow you around... especially one you didn't have to pay for," a voice calls out, in bemusement.
Roy Harper was standing there on a fire escape grinning, a crossbow in hand, clad in his superhero costume, complete with shades that did little to hide his identity.
"How about saving me the hassle and just surrender? You're outnumbered six to one..." Roy grins, nonchalant with his crossbow, but already working out the geometry to taking them down with a minimum of fuss. He -could- have shot first, but there was something to be said about not firing too early...
While the men stare dumbly at Roy, trying to figure out how they're outnumbered (and who use a crossbow in this day and age?), Hawk strikes. "Too slow!" she declares, punching the man closest to her. Not expecting it, he takes the punch right in the jaw and goes down like a dress on prom night - in another words, he hits the ground quick and hard. This breaks the temporary hold Roy's appearance cast over the men, forcing them to take cover - well, one of them. The man Hawk was after. The others just rush at the closest target: Hawk.
Twang! Twang! Twang! Three bolts are fired, aiming to disarm. "Oh c'mon, what did I just say?" Roy exclaims, as he leaps down from the fire escape and joins in the fray, moving to help... well, look good? Because at the way Hawk takes out the first person, it apparently was a question of how much mopping up he'd get to do.
"Not that I'm questioning a woman who can throw a right hook like that, but is that man running away from us gonna be really important?" Roy chimes in as he starts in mop-up duty.
Two of them hit and the man stand in shock for a few seconds. The third misses, but only because the man moved at the same instant that Roy fired the bow. One man is then thrown into two more, and Hawk is left dodging baseball bat swings before she can throw out another punch.
"Not really!" she calls back, "But I hate it when bank robbers get away from me!"
"Right. Arsenal's the name," Roy introduces himself as he brings his crossbow up to intercept a swing, so that he can disarm the batter and then demonstrate how to really use that wooden bat. "So, you got dibs on the guy hiding behind the can, or can I go get him?"
Duck! Dodge! Despite the odds (technically) being against her, Hawk is doing quite well, keeping the blows from landing. "All yours, Arsenal," comes the reply, moments before, she belts one of the 'bangers in the gut. "I'm a little too busy to get him myself!" She dodges another punch, returning it. "The name's Hawk, by the way."
The aforementioned man, realizing the two capes were talking about him, immediately gets up and makes a run for it. "Crap crap crap crap!"
"Aw, you sure do know how to make a fellow feel welcome," Arsenal grins, as he gets out of the way to let Hawk finish up the bangers. "So which bank was it? First and National? Fifth Street?" he asks, as he smoothly unfolds a bow, and fishes out a trick arrow. Taking aim, he fires. "Over the can, through the fence, nothing but..."
And the arrow opens, draping a net down over the runaway robber. "... net," Roy finishes.
"Fifth," confirms Hawk with a nod. She takes one punch to the jaw but doesn't go down. Or spin comically like in a movie. She grunts and shakes it off, retaliating with another punch. And another. And then those two guys go down like sacks of potatoes at her feet. Three to go.
The other man, meanwhile, finds himself sneering and smirking. How're they gonna catch him now, hunh? What're they gonna... dammit. An arrow-net?! He hits the ground and rolls, trying to struggle, but finds he cannot get out.
"And now batting, Arsenal!" Roy exclaims, as he turns to swing the bow hard at one of the guys. "Can't say I didn't warn you about doing this the easy way... now what're they gonna say, that you hit like a girl? Present company excepted."
"If they hit like me it would at least make things more interesting!" The next two go down in equal heaps, leaving the man holding a crowbar... who promptly quivers, drops his weapon, and holds up his hands. Hawk smirks. "I don't suppose you have another arrow net?"
"I'm sure I can get a couple more," Roy responds cheekily, already reaching back in his quiver. "So, your police station, or mine?" Yes, it's awful, and yes, Roy knows it. He doesn't care, however, as he fires the net over the rest. At least the one guy was luckier... these five had to share one.
Hawk helpfully puts the group of them into something approximating a pile, and glares at the conscious man to make sure he doesn't go running. "Oh, all yours, really. I don't have a particular station." Not that she's scared of cops or anything, she just never bothered to be that much more responsible after catching and calling the cops over.
"Right. I'll call it in..." Roy grins, before eyeing Hawk in her 'tight whites'. "Got to say, it's simple, but you make it work. What's the origin story, boxer beat up your daddy when you were a kid, so you decided to take up boxing in order to find him?"
It's not noticeable given her stylized domino mask hides her eyebrows, but Hawk is regarding Roy with a quirked brow. "Uh. No, not at all," she answers gruffly. She leans back against the building that helps make the alley, crossing her arms. Eyes narrow and she keeps her gaze on the fallen 'bangers. "You go ahead and call in," she agrees.
"Hnh. There's always an origin story. Usually involving a family member and then you dedicate your life to fighting crime because of his example," Roy replies, as he taps his headset. "It's practically a -requirement- in this business... one minute..." There's a quick hurried call, as Roy explains about the robbers from the Fifth being netted in the alley.
When Roy ends the call, he flashes a grin. "So..." he begins. "Time to pull a disappearing trick?"
Hawk shakes her head, holding up a hand. "Wait for it." This is New York after all, and traffic doesn't always agree with the cops. Even if they wanted to - sometimes there's just too much of it. It's about five minutes later that the sirens sound. "Now we go."
There's a grin as Roy has the fire escape ladder pulled down. "Well then let's go!" Already halfway up, he offers a hand. "Where to?" he asks, as he makes his way to the rooftop.
On the rooftop with Arsenal, Hawk's already running, gesturing. It's a short hop to the next building, a drop to the one after that.. and in a few minutes' time they're several blocks over from where they were before. "I don't suppose you have arrow binoculars in that quiver."
"Nope, but I've got access to the police band and other agencies," Roy replies. "Easier to find criminals that way. "So what's your story, then?" he asks, as he drops down to the next building. "Inspired by Battle of the Planets?"
Hawk has... absolutely no idea why that means. She stares at Arsenal in silence, though she is smirking. "Bitten by a radioactive bird of prey," she offers, the sarcasm clear in her tone. "I suppose that would make you bitten by an arrow."
"... oh c'mon, that's such a stupid origin story. Who's silly enough to let himself get bitten by a radioactive bird?" Roy grins as he perches over the edge of the building, listening to the police band briefly before looking back up. "Bitten by a rabid island queen, actually," Roy half-grins. "Had a fetish for green."
Hawk looks in the direction of the alley, seeing only the red and blues of the police cars from this distance. And not even the lights themselves, really, but the flashes against the building. "Maybe I was born this way," she counters. But then Roy's 'admission' makes her laugh aloud. "Okay. That... that was good," she admits, smiling.
Now Roy looks at Hawk, regarding her outfit. "... If that's your birthday suit, I've got to admit I'm impressed with how it's grown since birth. You molt that suit off or something?"
Hawk rolls her eyes. Still not visible, thanks to the way her eyes seem to be solely, glowing white. "Not what I meant," she answers. She's still got something of a smile on her face. "Looks like the cops picked up those 'bangers."
"Oh well, then, I've got nothing against mutants," Arsenal says, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "So long as you're a crime-fighter, we're good to go." There's a peer over at the distance, followed by a "Man, and I thought -my- vision was good. What else can you do? Conjure demons? Sparkle in daylight?"
Hawk grimaces. "Do I look like a vampire written by a horny woman out in Arizona?" she asks. "I'm good at fighting. Quicker, stronger than most people." She lifts a hand and flexes her fingers. Claws there too, seems like. "Nothing special. I don't shoot snowflakes from my eyes or transform into a car or something."
"With that skintight outfit? -Someone- probably wrote something about you on the internet, at least. Probably all about me too. I'll bet there's stuff out there on me and Nightwing or something. Probably written by some blonde with a fertile imagination."
Somewhere in New York City, Mia Dearden sneezed.
Beep beep beep beep.
"Hold on, I've got a call," Roy says, as he answers.
"Daddy? I want ice cream."
"... Uh, hold on, I'm busy..."
"I WANT ICE CREAM."
"... ah... well, I've got to report to the boss," Arsenal says sheepishly. "Don't suppose you'd like to pick up at another time?"
Hawk thankfully doesn't hear as well as some metahumans out there. She arches a brow beneath her mask, and nods. "I'm sure you'll find me around somewhere, Arsenal."
"Right. Now then, I've got a little princess to answer to..." And just before Arsenal hops off down the fire escape, he calls out, "And no, the island queen had -nothing- to do with this!"