General Freedom stood on the top of City Hall, watching the citizens below him, feeling the cooling breeze wash over his body. Inhaling deeply General Freedom closed his eyes as he thought of what he needed to do. As he did so, he heard a muted pop-pop-pop. Snapping open his eyes he sought the source of the sound, after a moment he spotted a group of One-liners with automatic weapons. They were rushing out of a small jewelry store and firing their weapons into the air to scatter the citizens from the sidewalk to make their get away easier. As people scrambled for safety, a black van roared up to the curb and in jumped the One-liners, their guns blazing as they took off down the street, cutting off vehicles and almost running pedestrians over as they make their escape.

Leaping into the air, General Freedom soared after them, his mind racing as he watched the van careen through traffic wildly, weapons out the windows firing at the pursuing police cars that had taken up the chase. The blue energy that surrounded him allowed him to breathe as he accelerated his speed to match that of the van. As he positioned himself over the black vehicle he pondered what to do, the constant gunfire echoed through the streets, mingling with the wail of sirens and screeching tires.

Even as the van began to weave all over the road, General Freedom knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. Accelerating his speed, he tried to catch the black van before it smashed into the light pole. He was too late. Landing near the wrecked vehicle, the man known as General Freedom sprinted to the smoldering remnants. As he reached the side of the broken vehicle, he noted that there was no movement from inside. Grasping the handle of the sliding side door, he yanked but found the door to badly damaged to open.

Snarling, he stood back and stared at the wreck, the blue energies swam around his hands as he stood there, muscles taut and coiled, the sirens wailing behind him as the first responders approached. Pointing a hand at the side door, General Freedom unleashed a small blast, strong enough to punch a hole in door. Stepping forward he yanked on the now loosened door, as it slide off the track and onto the asphalt the bodies of two of the One-liners tumbled out, the ruined faces and broken bodies told him that the accident had damaged them, however the bullet holes in their faces told him what had killed them.

"What the hell?" James said as he knelt near the bodies, glancing inside he knew the fate of the rest of them, with a savage snort, he was getting ready to launch himself skyward when he noted an odd-looking coin had tumbled from the pocket of one of them. Picking up the coin, he examined it, a gold coin with an odd symbol on it; it looked like the sacred eye of Egypt, the Utchat. Tucking the item into his belt, General Freedom stood and turned to face the officers who had arrived.

Walking away from the wreck he looked at the closest officer, and said gravelly, "They are dead, all of them." That caused the officer to stop and stare at the wreck, then at General Freedom, who had launched himself skyward in a blue blaze.

As the crowd watched the mayhem that had occurred, the destruction of the van and the deaths of the One-liner gang members gave a solitary figure standing a distance away a feeling of anger. The figure, mostly likely male by the bulk and stance, shrugged deeper into the long coat that surrounded the form. The hat pulled low shaded the eyes, and what eyes they are. Gleaming green with odd slits, similar to that of a cat, shook his head. Exhaling slightly, allowing the sharpened canine teeth to glint wickedly in the light, the figure turned and stared walking towards the subway.

As the figure walked along, it withdrew a gloved hand from a pocket and started flipping a coin, the gleam from the coin and the size was enough to cause some on the street to become startled. The man was tossing a gold coin and if once could see it clearly had the Utchat engraved upon it and dyed black.

Walking with an easy gait the figure arrived at the station agent's booth, with a deep voice that held a tint of a growl the figure said, "One please to Juarez Park. Thank you." The figure slipped the agent a few dollars and took the ticket. Mounting the steps towards the platform of the subway, the figure brushed past some people who drew back suddenly as if they had touched some thing hot. Their eyes lingering on the massive form that made its way slowly towards the arriving train.

Meanwhile in another part of Remaeus Park a large SUV slid to a stop in front of the International Industrial Diamond Exchange. From the vehicle tumbled out several men in odd-looking military styled suits, they looked for all the world like characters from the video game Halo. Once their weapons appear the citizens around began to scramble for safety.

"Alright you maggots!" hollered the leader into his microphone, "Lets get those blue-light diamonds!" The other four nodded and rushed into the vast, warehouse like structure where industrial grade diamonds are traded every day.

As the men entered the building, the leader switched channels and reported back, "Unit 031 reporting, we have access to the building. We will have the diamonds needed to build the high energy blue lasers." After a moment of conversation, the Technocracy soldier entered after his men and began the ransacking of the valuable blue diamonds.

The train arrived at the rather run down and depressing station that is Juarez Station, as the train stopped with a jolt the multitude of passengers began to stir, some getting up and grabbing their bags, others glancing out the windows to witness the graffiti lined walls. Most lost in thoughts of a better life, a life where they were away from this place, this time, this existence.

With a exhausted sigh the doors slid open and the flood of people disembarked, a stream of weary people seeking to escape the drudgery of the station. Along with them came a large shadowy bulk who watched the masses with the eyes of a predator, stalking the herd for the weak. Striding easily up the wore and weary steps towards the street above, the great bulk cast his cat eyes up and down the street, noting the location of the local police standing about chewing the fat, lackadaisical and unprepared. A reddish tongue lashed out between the lips and sharpened teeth, roiled once and withdrew, "It would be so easy…so easy indeed." Murmured the being as he turned and walked towards Doris Street, the main road through Juarez Park, as he did so he spotted the person he had come to see.

Anyone seeing the large bulk would have been impressed at his size, however seeing whom he was meeting surely be incredulous at the size of his contact. The nearly thirteen foot tall, being leaned lazily against an ally wall, the highly polished skin bore a marble-like sheen as the being basked in the hazy sunlight.

The shadowy bulk approached and hissed, "Titan I presume…" then cackled in a purr-like laughter. The giant snarled and cast steel-gray eyes towards the approaching figure, "Yeah that's me pal. I understand you need muscle?" The size disparity was not nearly as much as one would have guessed, as the bulk easily equaled the girth of the taller being.

"Indeed I do, I have need of a distraction near Hawkin's Lake House…" The darkly dressed figure rasped as he glanced upwards, the exposed parts of the lower jaw resembled a cat, and the hints of whiskers are seen. Titan peered down at the shaded being and flashed a grin, "Sure bud I can do that…but it'll cost ya."

Lowering his head a moment, the dark clad being nodded and reached out, a small slip of paper extended in a gloved hand. Titian took the paper and read the numbers on it. Nodding he folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket, "That works, I assume you want me to cause this ruckus now?" Again, purrs of laughter then, "Why waste time?"

With a grunt, the villain known as Titan turned and grabbed a thick iron girder and began plodding towards the lush green park from which the district took its name. Several citizens who encountered the monstrously large being paused then ran away, averting their eyes, hoping that the Titan was not coming for them.

Watching him walk away the bulky being shrugged his shoulders and licked his lips, turning he began strolling along the debris littered streets, slowly making his way towards the Juarez Power Plant, the source of electrical power for RolePlay City. As he did so he began to whistle a haunting tune.

Titan snorted as he heft the large girder up and over is head, his eyes focused on the statue of the Irish hero known as Irish Wolf, one of the large strapping and muscular heroes who came as part of the Finna, the super group from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. When the Hvee attacked, they were the first group of heroes from anywhere other than America and Canada to fight off the alien horde.

“Too bad we never met Wolfie, I could have taken yer puny ass!” Grunted Titan as he swung the girder with all his might, when the heavy steel girder collided with the polished granite statue there was a loud explosion and the air filled with a huge amount of dust. The bisected statue tottered then fell apart, the legs still attached to their base, the torso and head flung across the grounds to land with a heavy thud in some rose bushes.

With a satisfied grin, Titan laughed a long, deep and menacing laugh. Licking his lips he turned his attention to an intricate water fountain. “Well the man said to rip this park apart, so that’s what your gonna do me boyo.” With slow and deliberate steps the massive Titan swung the girder like a bat and connected with the top of the fountain, causing it to topple over in a crash of stone splashing into the deep green water. Bellowing in his incredibly deep voice, Titan shouted into the graying sky, “Ok heroes, your worst nightmare walks here and I wanna play ball!” Laughing aloud the villain known as Titian strode with a heaviness and purpose that frightened the local drug dealers who witnessed his display of power. Scrambling away, they moved out of the park and onto streets that framed the once majestic park. Phone calls were made and angry discussions about the stupidity to try to force Titan from their turf.


Anyone looking at the power plant would have noticed the large bulky figure that leaned lazily against the thick chain fence, a hand draped over the top of the eight-foot fence with ease. Cat eyes peered at the smoke stacks and the transformers that filled the power plant acreage. With a soft purr the figure stretched and cast a glance towards the security gate, a shaded grin flashed exposing sharpened teeth for a moment. Reaching into a pocket, a massive hand pulled out a way to small cell phone and punched in a number.

“Yep I am here. Oh yes I met the big lug and gave him the account and transfer instructions.” Turning towards the park area where loud thumps are heard, the bulky figure laid a hand on the fence again, listening intently to the voice on the other side.
“I understand…no I think I can handle this, it won’t be an issue.”

Glancing towards an oncoming car, the large figure snarled and closed the cell phone, as he did so he watched with absolute malice as the minivan roared by, a soccer mom on her way home most likely. As the tail lights faded in the distance the figure exhaled loudly and turned his attention back towards the transformers.

Morgan Halloran was not happy. Not only was she still trying to shake off a virus, but a client had repeatedly requested that she come to this particular café, just off Remaeus Park. Morgan has refused point blank the first six or seven times, but when he threatened to pull her payment, well, she had no choice. Bills had to be paid, and jobs were become scarce--so called Heroes and Villains seemed to be using less middle men nowadays.

The whole of the women's bathroom was somewhat grimy, with tacky pink wallpaper and blue and white lino, lifting at the corners and ripped in several parts, exposing the cold grey concrete below. The stalls were painted a light purple, but the paint was peeling away to reveal various other colors beneath. Apparently, the doors were used as a sort of message system, with various threats to the various gangs and heroes, and how 'Mariia woz 'er 2kii10 luvin' Jac 4eva never.' The sinks were a dingy white, and the mirrors were covered in dirt and old make-up, with fluorescent lights hanging above them.

Morgan fixed the black scarf around the lower part of her face, checking it in the mirror, and adjusting it a little. She didn't trust this man very much, especially if he wanted to meet in such a dump as this. Then again, the whole city was turning into a dump. CyCL0ne sighed as she stepped into the seedy diner, spotting her client perched nervously on a bar stool, his eyes flickering around the room as he twitched, seemingly eager to leave before he'd arrived. CyCL0nE crossed over beside him, producing an envelope from her shoulder bag, and placing it on the counter in front of her. The man made a grab for it, but Morgan pulled it just out of his reach calmly. There was a loud beep, followed by a vibrating noise, which almost sent the jumpy male flying off his seat. Glancing at the smartly dressed woman beside him, he removed his mobile from his pocket, and opened the message.

CAREFUL NOW. WE HAD AN AGREEMENT. CASH FIRST, THEN INFO.
The man glanced at Morgan, then at the phone, before slowly, and shakily, pulling a gun quietly from his coat pocket. Morgan rolled her eyes.
FINE. I'LL LEAVE YOU HEAR TO CONSIDER IT.
The man looked confused for a moment, but yelped as he felt his weapon being ripped from his hand, and the bars of the metal stools tying themselves around his ankles.
Morgan stood up easily, and went to head back outside, she was missing out on some action involving the pests that were the one-liners. This she could not miss.

Jace stood floating in midair with his eyes closed. He was in his apartment and he was focused. Anyone who entered could sense the energy in the air. Jace was focusing on reading everyones minds at once. He hears many thoughts. A lesser being would have been insane by now. Even Jace was having trouble keeping his mind. This was how he found danger when patrolling didnt suit him. He focused on specific thoughts. Thoughts leading to pain, murder, theft. He focused. One mind drew his attention more then the others. Jace opened his eyes and stood up. Glancing to the wall he floated over and thru it. THe person was in Juarez Park. ANd he was a strong person. Violence not for the sake of violence but for money. THis puzzled Jace.

He flew toward the park with just his own thoughts in his head. This villain was destroying for money. Someone was paying him to do it. But who? Jace shook his head he couldnt get a bead on that he heard no name in the things head. Maybe he didnt know it. Jace decided to wait and ask questions after he stopped the rampage. Jace sped up to the park.

General Freedom stood and looked down at the number of cars responding to some incident. Glancing in the direction of the racing column of lights and sirens, he paused. Perhaps he should go and see what the fuss was. However, the niggling thought that the coin was more than a coin stuck with him. It was tough being a hero, many of the other heroes worked with him, but none seemed eager to form friendships with the costumed man. A wane smile crossed his lips, he had heard it all, the too dorky costume comments to the mentioning that he represented a time that no longer existed.

Bowing his head, General Freedom pursed his lips a moment as he stared at the coin. Tucking it away again he allowed the blue zero-point energies to wash over his body, as the shield enveloped his body, he launched himself skyward in a wide loop that carried him over the train station then towards the line of lights.


At the Industrial Diamond Exchange the Technocracy soldiers took up positions of cover and fired at the police and heroes that they saw. The leader tapped his mic and spoke rapidly, "Unit Delta under attack, we need extraction!"

After a moment there came a reply, "Grab the package and be ready."

"Roger that!" After a moment the leader moved back towards the diamonds, the barrage laid down by the other soldiers filled the air as the plasma burst rocked the streets. Glancing down at the data pad he had he continued to look for the batch number of the diamonds he needed.
Outside the sounds of sirens filled the air as the police began responding. However the screech of tires from another direction could also be heard as two more SUV's filled with technocrat troopers in their power armor and carrying plasma rifles arrived. The eight soldiers tumbled out of their vehicles forming a semi-circle around the entrance of the IDE ready to repel the police or heroes if they should interfere.

"Boring... Trivial... Boring... That'll never hold... Uninspired... Perhaps in twenty years, maybe... Boring..." rambled the small girl dressed in Gothic attire, sitting on a bench in Juarez park, under a shady tree as she looked through a stack of easily twenty magazines, newspapers, and other news editorials. Reading them in their entirety in a matter of moments and judging them in a single word or phrase, making the stack to her right dwindle in number and the stack to her left grow more and more. In a matter of just a few minutes, she was finished with her little pile of editorials and hopped off the bench back onto the huge metallic platforms of her boots with a clop, then opened her large umbrella. The umbrella's shade enveloped almost the entirety of the small girl's body, leaving only just above her boots to be exposed to the sunlight. Donning her disinterested countenance, the small girl began to walk through Juarez Park, simply taking a stroll through the so-called 'dangerous' park that had simply become a bore for the girl like everything else in the city. She looked up at the trees with a sigh, the infamous Rochelle Blood, the one people called a 'Vigilante Extraordinaire' had not found real work in about a month now which displeased the small adolescent-looking girl to no end. If it were not for her tinkering she would most likely be out on the street without a home, as her vigilantism these days mostly consisted of stopping random bank robberies or finding the occasional wanted Super Villain and bringing said villain to the police after subduing him. These days weren't anything like the days she first arrived in Roleplay City, when she proved her worthy vigilantism to only the highest bidder; much like her machinery and inventions.
"Why must everything be so very droll?" she asked herself, while shifting her eyes towards her path rather than towards the sky. "I don't even get calls anymore, despite my publicity as an inventor and accomplished vigilante. Does everyone here have such bad taste as to rely on those so-called 'heroes'?" she asked, her voice was soft as cotton though laced with a monotone as dry as the Sahara. She let out another sigh before hearing a rather loud crash followed by an explosion. Yet again, the girl sighed and tilted her umbrella down slightly, as to not be hit by any incoming flames or be dirtied by any sort of earthly dust that would fly her way and then stopped in the middle of the path. As the wind hit the umbrella, she quickly turned around, facing the inside of her umbrella, and spun it around quickly forcing the dust that had gathered on it to fly off in every direction before resting the steel-caned umbrella back on her right shoulder. She soon witnessed the incredible mass of bulk that made up the unmistakable villain Titan, and gave a slight frown as she saw the figure crush the water fountain and bellow something that she felt was far too loud to be decent at all.

Though, she once again realized that this was Titan. All muscle, but all dumb as well, which piqued her interest as she reached into one of her small concealed pockets on her dress and pull out her Blackberry PDA. She quickly punched in Titan's name in the integrated police database and came up with a good many things, but nothing that would merit a larger sum of money if captured, which annoyed Rochelle. 'Why would anyone go after this guy with such low bounty on his head? Oh well... I suppose it'll be fun to watch, and you never know, perhaps the local drug dealers and gangs will want him in the future. She thought, and quickly distanced herself from the massive villain, finding another park bench to sit on while he destroyed things on the other side of the park. Rochelle began to hope that another villain would come along, one with possibly a higher bounty for capture, so she could at least get some money out of the situation. After all, potential entertainment and potential payment were both things that would end Rochelle's boredom. Well, at least for a little while.

Titan smashed the fountain and then spun around with his column wrecking trees and knocking a hot dog vending cart into the air. The cart flew in the air and toward a girl sitting on a bench leisurely. As it came about 5 ft from hitting her it stopped in midair. Jace hovered down his hand held out. The cart spun around in the air and flew out quickly at Titan hitting him in the back of the head. Knocking him forward but not off his feet as it exploded from the propane tank inside of it. Jace landed and then looked at the girl sitting. "You might want to be leaving now" Jace walked over to Titan and looked up at him as he turned around swinging his column. Jace flipped back and onto the column as he swung it over his head. Jace stood on the column looking at Titan as he looked around confused. Jace formed a mental knife and threw it at the back of his head. It stuck in and exploded knocking him forward again. Titan turned around quickly and saw Jace. "And who might ya be ya little gnat hmm?" Jace flew into the air his arms crossed. "My name is X Factor and im the one here to stop you. Unfortunately for you." Titan roared as he headed to Jace. He ran full on into a psychic wall Jace had set up. Titan teetered and finally fell over. Jace allowed himself a small smile as he floated down and entered Titans mind to better fight him and then got ready for him to get up.

At the IDE the Technocrat soldiers began scanning the area as they watched the gathering police presence, so far they had not spotted any heroes but it didn’t matter they had the fire power to unload on ay goody-too shoes who might show up. Grimacing as the scan seemed to take forever to complete the leader turned and glanced out the tinted plate glass windows. Realizing he needed more time he spoke quickly into his chin-mic, a second latter two men began setting up a heavy electronic shielding mechanism near the front door. After they finished the two resumed their positions.

A second later the computer bleated twice, indicating the scan was complete. Looking at the data a quick smile crossed his lips, “Got it…Charlie and Bravo keep the LZ clear we’ll be coming in hot, the package has been located.” Spinning on his heels the man made his way to a vault and vanished inside.

Meanwhile at the power plant, the mysterious man with the Cheshire grin had dispatched the security guards, humming an odd tune he found what he was looking for, the main control center. Shredding the door with his claws he entered the room to the astonishment of the staff.
“Who…who are you?” demanded the shift supervisor.
“That is something you really or want to know.” purred the man as he motioned for the workers to gather in the corner.
“Hey you can’t…” The supervisor never finished his statement as a thrown coffee mug crashed against his skull with enough force to lift him off his feet, before he slumped to the ground leaving a bloody trail where he leaned against the wall.
“Anyone else?”
No one answered. With quick sure key strokes the man began shutting down the generators, knowing it would take roughly 15 minutes he flashed another grin to the remaining workers, “Just so you eggheads don’t get heroic…”with that he smashed the control panel with a fist sending sparks flashing as the control board flickered then died.

Hopping out the door the bulky figure made his way to the street and to a bus stop, as he waited for the bus he checked his watch. He would be boarding the bus just as the power outage would hit.

Rochelle giggled a bit at the man's warning as he said it and didn't budge from her comfy, front row seat as she watched him fly over to the muscled monster Titan. Rochelle knew this man, X-factor, though only in passing. She knew nothing of his past exploits are crime-fighting prowess, so it simply added to the show that she was witnessing. He was obviously one of those 'heroes', always self-righteous and moral, so was answering the call of Titan in no doubt the name of 'truth' and 'justice'. If there was anything that Rochelle didn't fully understand in this world, it was the concept of what 'heroes' and 'villains' stood for, outside of their simple little black-and-white shells of morality. To her, as long as something paid relatively well and wasn't a form of suicide mission she would do it, the result would always be in her favor and that in the end is what truly mattered. Whenever she sees a gifted individual, like herself, get mixed up in all of this 'hero' and 'villain' business it becomes truly confusing to find a reason why beyond their pledge to heroism or villainy. The ends didn't justify the means to her, as they weren't getting anything out of it, so to speak. The heroes would undoubtedly get some sort of reward or 'key to the city' type merit, while most villains would be placed in penitentiaries until they are able to either break out or are set free, in both cases it ends up with them doing the exact same thing over and over again. It was like a vicious cycle of pure idiocy that refused to stop and think about what it was doing, the heroes about how many people they were actually hurting rather than saving, the villains about their own ends and how the goals were almost never met, when they truly counted at least. But alas, Rochelle was simply an observer, looking at something she would never truly understand yet fully well and able to venture into their world for a sum of money.
Oh well. she thought, and once again watched the fight between the villain Titan and the hero X-Factor.

Deadeye and the Redcaps

There is a predatory aspect about the city, furtive and lurking just beyond the usual sight lines of the workaday world, but present and ruthlessly alert all the same. There is generally an order among predators with the strongest and most aggressive marking out their territory and the lesser and weaker taking advantage of what opportunities may arise along the periphery of the hunting and killing done by others. So it is in Roleplay City - the incidents in Juarez Park and at the International Diamond Exchange are sure to occupy heroes, police and likely even villains in great numbers. And with the attention of the city fixed on the struggle of its defenders to stop an aggressive and obvious act of predation, an opportunity is created for those others long confined to the shadows to step forward and seize what lies close to hand. In some cases such a stepping forth is the product of plans suddenly arriving at a point of opportune realization, in others, however, the majority in fact, it is more a matter of sheer spontaneity – an act of crudely asserted violence and thoughtless grasping. What takes place near the south quad of Roleplay City University is a bit of both.

The Redcaps, a small time gang of street toughs known as much for their violence as their distinctive red hats, had been talking among themselves for some time about what an easy hit the RPCU Credit Union would be. With so many police and emergency units sure to be occupied elsewhere and dealing with things that would also attract the attention of the city's active heroes, there could not possibly be a better time – and so, a plan not fully developed is hastily put into action. They arrive in two cars, red early model four-door sedans, four to a car. The drivers remain behind in the cars with engines running. Two take up positions near the entrance of the Credit Union and the other four enter. The lone security guard is shot straightaway and everyone inside is suddenly very cooperative, just like they planned. The screams that followed upon the burst of gunfire mute the sound of the approaching motorcycle. It takes a few tense minutes to fill the satchels with cash and bonds, but all told things could not be going more smoothly. It is not until José comes crashing through the plate glass window that there would seem to be any danger to the success of the operation.

“What the….!”

“José! It’s José, dawg, and he ain’t movin’!”

“Tyrone, see what the hell’s going on out there.”

“You crazy, man, I ain’t goin’ near that door.”

“Miguel, José’s bleedin’ pretty bad. We gotta do somethin’.”

“Nick, you go with Tyrone and see what’s goin’ on out there. The rest of you don’t be getting’ any ideas. Just stay down on that floor.”

“Miguel, man, I don’t see nobody. Wait! I see a guy. Some dude all done up in black and he’s throwin’ somethin’ toward that hole in the window. Tyrone! Look out man! Tyrone!”

“Damn! That’s a knife, man! Hurts! Get the damn thing outta my arm! Somebody do som…..”

“Dodged my damn bullets! What’s up with that?”

“Tyrone’s down, dawg! That dude’s crazy. Knives! That ain’t right!”

“Get the hell away from there, Nick!”

“My leg! Got my leg!”

“You! Lady! Get up! You’re dead if you can’t show us another way outta this rat hole.”

As the battle raged around, the police vastly out gunned by the Technocracy soldiers with their plasma rifles and their body armor. Even as the news crews filmed from a few blocks away and the news helicopters roared, overhead both police and news, trying to capture the deadly fight taking place below them.

Flying over the gun battle, a news crew for Action 18 whirled and then hovers to capture General Freedom on the roof of a building. The signature blue energy blazing brightly as he stood apparently nonchalantly watching the onslaught below.
"Amanda, can you see this? General Freedom is standing atop the Williams-Smythe building watching the carnage below…what can it mean?" asked the pale blonde reporter looking into the camera.

Back in the Action 18 studios, Amanda Eckersly glanced at the live scene and turned towards the cameras, "Well there you go RolePlay City, General Freedom standing by while mayhem breaks out below him. The sounds, the explosions should be a call to arms for a hero the city has called it own. But is he? Is General Freedom truly the hero we have made him out to be? Earlier today he was involved in a pursuit of one-liners who robbed a jewelry story, yet those criminals all died in an automobile accident caused by the flag draped hero."

The smoldering brown eyes stared into the camera; the frosted blonde hair pushed back, the camera closing in on her face, "Really RolePlay City, is General Freedom the hero we want?"

The scene flashed back to the helicopter crew and the unfolding violence below.

Deadeye and the Redcaps

Small timers, that's all these guys are - small timers looking to make a name for themselves. Who gets hurt doesn't matter to them. Nothing matters to them except getting a killer rep and scoring a quick fix of cash that they'll just blow on living large and trying to look like big shots. Stupid vicious punks that think the world is theirs for the taking even if they've got to break a few fingers and crack open a few heads to take it. Someone's getting hurt here today. They're right about that much.

God only knows what condition the two drivers are in, he only knows that they won’t be moving any time soon, if at all. He went easier on the kid sprawled on the sidewalk. The other kid, José they called him inside the Credit Union, pulled his gun and that’s a mistake he’ll be lucky if he lives to regret. Inside they’re in a panic and as long as they stay worried about surviving what he’s going to do to them the others will be safe. He’s dropped one and another pair of knives makes sure the other one who had come to the door – Nick they called him – won’t be running anywhere. That leaves Miguel at least, assuming he’s the last, but assumptions like that can get a guy killed. The problem now is their guns in that small space – not much room to dodge and too many innocents in the lines of fire.

“You! Lady! Get up! You’re dead if you can’t show us another way outta this rat hole.”

If the thugs were smart, they’d make everybody stand up, use them as shields, but they’re not thinking clearly. Whatever he does, though, it’s gotta be fast or else people are going to start getting hurt. These guys are young and they're used to being the ones dishing out the violence. Being on the receiving end has them scared. Scared and confused. Ordinarily fear and confusion would work to his advantage, but there are hostages - who knows how many - inside, and guns. He needs a distraction to get inside without them going crazy squeezing their triggers.

This is why he keeps the super balls with him. There is a decisive gracefulness about his movements as he hurls the small balls on various trajectories through the opening in the plate glass window. They do no damage, of course, but they bounce off the walls and floor and ceiling in so disconcerting a way as to provide considerable surprise and distraction. The distraction will purchase a few seconds and such seconds count very much, but only if one knows how to use them. Even as the balls arrive through the window and strike the interior of the building at various points, he is in movement as well, running forward, then leaping and finally tumbling through the broken window, his body tucked to avoid damage from the glass. So dramatic an intrusion as this, a sudden blur of dark colored movement in the wake of the distraction caused by the balls provides another advantage. Just as the others raise their guns – he was right not to assume that Miguel was the last – he is already in position. Two knives bite into a young man’s chest and the semiautomatic slips from his hand as he collapses. A sudden kick to the head renders the wounded thug behind him unconscious.

He expected there to be more screaming on the part of the hostages, but they are numb, perhaps in shock. So much blood. Nothing about this makes any sense. Nothing about this is any good. A quick score and a chance to make a name, get a rep, that's all this was to them. All it is now is just a mess.

He’s young all right, this last one. No longer a kid, but a far cry from being a man. Young and scared. “I’ll kill her, man. Swear to God, I will.”

As Rochelle observed the boring, run-of-the-mill fight between the 'hero and villain' she soon saw a news helicopter fly overhead. Followed by another. Then another. Intrigued, Rochelle took one last look at the muscle-brained Titan and the 'heroic' X-Factor and pulled out her Blackberry. Pulling up live television was one of the many things that this personally customized blackberry could do and as she pulled up the application, she once again excused herself from another Juarez Park bench, her feet landing onto the pavement with a clop of the metal soles of her platforms. She then proceeded to look up at the nearest way out of the park swiftly finding a quick exit through an off-path clearing, she began to once again watch the television her blackberry as she made her way for the exit of the derelict park. She saw that a few news vans had already gotten to the scene of the crime, what was the 'scene of the crime' looked more like a free-for-all in Remaeus Park, or at least the makings of one. The ones using the Plasma Rifles were no doubt the Technocracy, as Rochelle had deduced, watching their superior weapons and tactics outsmart the Police in what would ultimately be a one-sided fight for supremacy. The action was just unfolding and Rochelle had seen enough.

'Blast...' she thought, her countenance turning to one of slight annoyance. 'I knew I shouldn't have dilly-dallied with this buffoons at Juarez. I'm missing valuable opportunities here, and I need to unwind somehow.' she thought, as she lifted her hand for a taxi. Soon, a taxi answered her call and the girl shut her umbrella and climbed in the car, as she entered the drive looked to the back seat at the small girl.
"Hey lady!" the driver said, "Where's a little girl like you headed?" he asked, in what Rochelle considered a perverse manner as the man looked her up and down, despite the girls ample amount of clothing. Rochelle let out a sigh and leveled with the man.
"Remaeus Park, quickly. There's two-hundre..." she didn't finish her sentence before the man said "C'mon, baby. How bout I give you a free ride and you give me a free ride?" the man asked, confirming his pedophilia. Rochelle's eyes stared daggers at the man, and no sooner did a perverse smile come across his lips did she tighten her right shoulder, causing her DROP-ARM to active and drop a pistol into her hand. As soon as she gripped the gun, she aimed it at the man's perverse grin, which quickly changed to one of shock and terror.
"Fool." Rochelle said, in an annoyed monotone. "There was going to be two-hundred over the meter for the quickest way to Remaeus Park, but I think you'll value your head instead of money at this point." she finished, her hand unwavering from the man's face.

"Oh... Okay lady. I-I'm sorry. I-I'll get you there as fast as I can!" he exclaimed, turning his head and pressing his foot on the gas pedal. Rochelle's gun didn't move from the back of the man's head as he drove to the destination.
"Faster" Rochelle said, in her usual monotone.
"But ma'am... That's over the speed limit." The scared driver replied, apparently tearing up judging from the shakiness in his voice.
"Does it look like you're in a position to make decisions? Faster, I said, and don't stop for any lights. That is, if you want to keep your head." She said, knowing the the majority of the RolePlay City Police Force was already as Remaeus park, she wasn't afraid of crossing paths with them.
"O-Okay, lady! Whatever you say, just don't kill me!" The driver said, in a panicked voice, and began driving as fast as he could.

General Freedom looked up at the sound of the news helicopter, staring with an icy glare for a moment. A grim smile crossed his lips as he recognized the station that the helicopter belonged to. For some reason Action 18 hated him and he didn’t know why. Exhaling as the sounds of combat roiled and rose to his ears, General Freedom closed his eyes a moment as he felt the energy well up inside is body. With that he leapt over the edge of the building and ignited the energies causing a loud sonic boom to erupt over the chaotic battlefield. The boom rattled and shook the windows of the buildings in a five block radius as General Freedom raced at incredible speeds down towards the street, the blue energy formed around his body as a shimmering aura.

The boom caused the police and the technocrat troopers to pause a moment as they looked upward to find the source of the immense rumble that echoed around them. The technocrats had the advantage due to their equipment and spotted the blue streaked headed towards them.

"It's General Freedom, focus fire on him!" Shouted the apparent leader of the cadre of troopers engaged in the battle with the police, and with that the plasma rifles no longer aimed at the police, but rather at the on rushing blue bolt. Several dozen rapid-fire bursts erupted from the entrenched men, sailing at the hero as fast as he flew towards them.

In an explosion of light the plasma burst connected with the blue energy field, while the field could deflect a great deal of the damage it could not disperse all of the kinetic energy, which knocked General Freedom back and through the glass of an office building. The whirling, spinning blue clad hero tumbled and crashed into desks and office equipment until he rolled up gently against a water dispenser.

Gritting his teeth, General Freedom stood up and dusted some of the debris from his body, with a snarl he generated some energy and cloaked himself in this blue field again. With a roar, he launched himself out through the same hole he had made and fired two concussive beams at the SUV's exploding them in spectacular fashion. Causing the heavy vehicles to raise high in the air in a tumbling arc, backwards towards the sidewalk in front of the IDE where they landed with a heaviness that bespoke of their now ruined nature.

Landing on the ruined and smoldering street the brilliant energy field glowing around General Freedom, the miasma of energy surrounding his hands blazed fiercely, "Surrender your arms gentlemen, you have no where to run." He said loudly as he walked slowly forward towards the dazed and confused troopers. It was at this exact moment all power in RolePlay City flickered and started to brown out.

Meanwhile aboard a bus headed towards Freedom Port a tall, mysterious man chuckled and rolled a coin between his fingers. “The beginning of the end…” as he watched the power station spark and blaze to life as the transformers began to explode.

Deadeye and the Redcaps

So fast. Everything. It all just happened so fast. None of us could follow what was happening. All we heard at first was the noise of the guns. I never heard anything so loud. And poor Frank….. My God! They just came in and shot him. They just…..

We didn’t know what to think or what to do. Who could think after something like that? They handed us the leather bags and we just started to fill them. And then that crash. The glass flew everywhere. It’s a miracle none of us got cut worse that we did. Something snapped when that boy hit the counter. We all got down after that. I kept wishing that my ears didn’t work so I wouldn’t have to hear what was happening. My eyes are still sore from pressing so hard to keep them closed. None of us knew what was happening, only that someone was hurting those men that shot Frank. One of them cried out that he was hit with a knife and Mary Calloway, our supervisor, whispered, “Good.” I didn’t say anything, I just wanted it all to stop. But after what they did to Frank, I wanted them hurt too. I hate that I felt that way and it makes me feel dirty knowing that I could want something like that. One of the customers was saying something that sounded like prayers. I tried to pray, but I don’t know any prayers and I think that I wanted those men to be hurt so much I couldn’t have prayed even if I knew any.

They were scared. All of them. You could hear it in their voices. Another one of them got hurt over near where they shot Frank. They were yelling about how wrong it was and I kept thinking about what they did to Frank and then I said it too, “Good.” That’s when the one named Miguel grabbed me and made me stand up. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t show him another way out. I knew he’d do it. He just killed Frank, why would he care about me? Why wouldn’t he just kill me anyway? Or worse? He pressed the gun up under my chin and I bit down on my lips so hard that they started to bleed a little bit. I was numb and I knew I was dead because I couldn’t even say my own name at that point, let alone show him the way out. Then I saw Frank and the others and I almost collapsed.

I started shaking and pressed my eyes closed again. There were all these funny bouncing sounds and then a heavier sound like a person falling. The man next to Miguel made a strange gasping sound and then he must have fallen down. Next I heard something like a cracking sound. And then nothing. I was crying by then and my eyes were still closed. Nobody was saying anything. The one customer was still mumbling his prayers. Someone else, it might have been Mary, was crying too. And Miguel’s whole body was shaking. He held me so tight that it hurt.

“I’ll kill her, man. Swear to God, I will.” I knew he’d do it.

“Say somethin’, man…. You know I’ll do it….. I’m tellin’ you, back off, man….. Say something!”

I opened my eyes then but I couldn’t see clearly through all my tears. He, whoever it was, was dressed in all black. He just stood there as if everything that happened was the most natural thing in the world. Calm and quiet and in no hurry.

“Don’t you care, man? I could kill her right here. Don’t you care?” I think that was when Miguel realized that it didn’t matter what he did – not to whoever it was that was standing there. I didn’t know what to think. I still don’t. All I know is he just stood there and I’m still alive now. I’d like to think he cared. But I don’t know.

“You throw that knife at me, you gonna hit the girl, man. What you about anyway? General Freedom don’t go around knifing people.”

“General Freedom is a hero. You don’t deserve General Freedom.” That was the only thing he said. His voice was quiet, but it was so.... so.... I don't know.

The next thing I knew Miguel took the gun away from my chin at pointed it at him. The man moved – he was so quick! Something snapped Miguel’s head back and then he fell. I fell right after, it was all just too much and I fainted. I came to here in the ambulance and I wish I was still unconscious.

The taxi that held Rochelle was in Remaeus Park within mere minutes of their departure time, due to the gun at the driver's head and the following of Rochelle's instruction to not stop for anyone or anything. As they arrived, the scared taxi driver wasn't slowing down anywhere near the park. Rochelle scooted to the side a bit to realize that this man's foot was still pressed down like a brick onto the gas pedal, and Rochelle shot him a dreadful glance through his rear-view mirror.
"Just what do you think you're doing? You fool." she said, her monotone showing a hint of annoyance.
"I'm goin' down, and I'm takin' you with me you bit-" the man's words were cut off as Rochelle's pistol fired through the glass barrier, shattering it. The man's brains were all over the front windshield following the discharge of her gun and as it did, Rochelle stood up in the moving vehicle and smashed the glass barrier that separated the two individuals with a thrust of her umbrella. The thrust continued well after she had shattered the barrier and moved down to the brake pedal on the car, slamming the pedal down while pushing the man's foot off the acceleration. She quickly grabbed onto the back of the seat as the car came to a screeching halt and balanced herself with her umbrella while staying low and next to the seat she grabbed onto. This made her slam against the seat, which cushioned the impact a bit while still allowing her to keep her umbrella firmly on the brake so as to come to a complete stop in the middle of the street. Rochelle was a bit shaken, but unharmed as the car came to it's screeching halt and as she regained her composure, she opened the car door and got out, while opening her umbrella and quickly moving to the Park.

"Hm. Just in time to catch the show. Or what's left of it." Rochelle said, as she pushed through the T.V. reporters who gasped as they saw the vigilante approaching. Gun still in hand, Rochelle made her way to the front of the media circus that littered the perimeter of the park and witnessed General Freedom 'save the day' once again by brutalizing these Technocrat soldiers. When General Freedom was throwing his concussive beams, Rochelle noticed that these beams could have easily hit the media members, or anyone else in the area and once again sighed at the man calling himself a 'hero' when he obviously could have hurt others with his powerful bursts of energy.
'Oh well...' Rochelle thought, watching the chaos unfold. 'For the greater good, I suppose.'
As the fight ended and General Freedom asked the men to surrender their weaponry, Rochelle noticed a flicker in a nearby lightpost before the all of the lights in the area suddenly shut off. She raised a brow and looked about, noticing the entirety of the power had gone out all over her immediate area. Soon, the media circus began whispering amongst themselves and then pedestrians, then it went whispering to talking. The talking soon escalated into a panicked yelling and people soon began to yell panicked pleas of concern and uneasiness. These things could easily lead to a riot, especially in Roleplay City and as the media circus was still rolling its footage, Rochelle started over to the man, the hero, known as General Freedom.

"General." Rochelle said, attempting to get the man's attention. "I think this situation is far from over."

General Freedom and Rochelle Blood:

Taking a step towards the carnage General Freedom was bathed in a blue glow that illuminated the area around him brightly. As he took his second step he felt, as did everyone in Roleplay City, a sudden jolt, then a rolling wave motion that lasted for a few seconds. This roiling of the ground coincided with the loss of energy through out the city. Hearing his name, the blue clad hero turned towards the slip of a girl as she approached. "General." Rochelle said, attempting to get the man's attention. "I think this situation is far from over." Another shockwave lifted the street, rending asphalt and concrete as well as a screeching sound.

"Earthquake!" General Freedom shouted as he increased his energy levels to help those should the buildings should start falling. However, it wasn't the buildings at grabbed the attention of those bewildered by the earthquake. It was the eruption from the ground around the Industrial Diamond Exhange of thousands of scarab beetles, clacking and rushing out of the ground in a blue metallic wave. The beetles swarmed around the fallen men, swarmed upon the mangled and ruined bodies.

It was a shock to say the least; the chittering sounds of the beetles filled the air, a steady buzzing drone that caused many to fear as the onslaught continued. Several of the police officers started stomping on the sea of bugs, only to be swarmed under by the wave. Running towards the wave, General Freedom shouted as loud as his lungs enabled, "GET SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE GROUND!" As he did so the energies that swirled around his hands increased until they were a blinding blue hiding the hands beneath that glow.

As the bugs swarmed over him, the thousands of bugs chattering and scrabbling to get on him, struggling to get through his shield to devour him, hiding him from view of those who sought shelter up high. The whorls of energy that wrapped and embraced the hands of the hero called General Freedom began to pulse slightly. Then it began, a muffled boom and a shift of the bugs, as they seemed to hop en masse. Then another muffled boom and another hop, then a much louder, much more pronounced boom and a higher hop of the furious insects. With each boom, the wave of bugs roiled and moved as if they were on water.

General Freedom, eyes closed breathing even and rhythmic released another small pulse of energy that incinerated the bugs closest to his form, with each concussive burst more bugs are affected as the force raced in ever widening concentric circles around the glowing figure. The bugs continued to swarm, they continued to come, continued to spread froth from the crack in the ground, towards the blue light that drew them like moths to flames. Snapping open his eyes, a cruel smile crossed the face of General Freedom, "Time to die!" He whispered to the mass of bugs on him, as he finished the sentence a wave of energy surged from his form, wrapping around the bugs in their blue light, spreading out enveloping every bug that swarmed, all the way back to the crack where they originated. Then in one sudden and swift moment the bugs exploded as the wave of energy raced through them, causing the harden shells to burst in a gooey mess. The concussive boom rolled through the bugs, snapping and exploding them in the thousands.

With a quick move, General Freedom leapt into the air, his form glowing brightly, illuminating the area in a radius of one-hundred yards in brilliant blue. As he gained some height, he paused a moment. His body ridged, his arms at his side, the energy swarming angrily around his hands. Lowering his head, he unleashed a wave of concussive energy on the remaining swarm, as he fly slowly towards the crack, detonating the remaining bugs that had escaped the initial wave of destruction.

As General Freedom moved towards the crack, something strange happened. The remaining bugs paused in their swarming, they froze, and then each one crumbled into a mass of black ash. Soon thousands of piles of darkly colored ash billowed and carried away, being dispersed along the streets by the winds generated by the concussive energies of General Freedom. As the first swirling cloud of ash raced around and away from him, the blue clad hero paused, and then gently lowered himself to the ground, surprised at the turn of events. Casting his gaze around, surveying the area, he witnessed every single scarab merely, for lack of a better word burn away. With a snarl, General Freedom strode forward through the black cloud towards the crack only to be surprised to find that the crack was no longer there. Dropping to a knee, he felt the disturbed earth and concrete where the hole had been. Narrowing his eyes, a feeling of apprehension filled him, this was new, this was something new, and it worried him.

Standing General Freedom turned his attention towards the Industrial Diamond Exchange, the original cause of this mess. Stepping through the damaged doorway, he stood and surveyed the damage done inside. What had the technocrats been looking for? Where did the beetles come from and more importantly from whom? Kneeling next to a body he looked at the face, devoured, gone.

Rising to his feet the blue-clad hero turned to find the girl that had approached him a moment before. She looked familiar but he couldn’t be sure, around him dozens of first responders hurried to see if they could aid the fallen. Straining to find her General Freedom began searching the area around him, seeking any sign of the red-eyed girl.

The power was out all over the city, causing havoc and accidents. Frightened people streamed into the streets, and criminals poured out as well, knowing they could prey on the fearful with near impunity. On a bus a large man turned a coin between his fingers, a growl erupted from his massive chest ending in a booming laughter causing those on the bus to shudder at the sound.

Qix - Special guest star. Address unknown.

Damn! Missed him again. Seems I'm always a step behind. Despite her frustration, she laughs at the irony of her being a step behind anyone, let alone this mysterious man in black as people call him. "Who's he think he is anyway? Johnny Cash?" She laughs even harder at this and while it feels a bit irreverent after what she just witnessed of the scene in front of the Roleplay City University Credit Union, laughter, especially after seeing something like that, feels good. This is the fifth time now that she's gotten to the scene just after he's left, and it's the fifth time that no matter how fast she's moved through the streets, no matter how systematic she's been, there's simply been no sign of him. That's not counting the knives, of course. And the blood. And bodies. There's always bodies. A couple for the morgue and a bunch for the ICU. She's seen enough of the violent side of this city not to be shaken easily, but there's something about this.....this.....this..... She's not quite sure just what the hell this is, but it's gotten inside her head.

"C'mon, girl, settle down, and think this through." Truth be told though, that's not her long suit. Action, that's what she's about. And movement. Her foot has been tapping again, quite the little chorus of percussive beats on the floor of her apartment. Good thing the couple downstairs are out working or they'd be banging on the pipes for me stop. Moving and action, however, have gotten her nowhere so far and that means she'll need to sit here with no lights and no power and no TV and no internet and think this through. "Dammit!"

Each time it's been exactly the same. There is some type of gang activity and he shows up, before anyone else knows about it - before the police, before any of Roleplay City's heroes and in the place of any of the usual enforcers that the larger gangs had been employing to mark their territory. They say he never misses with his knives and she's beginning to believe it - only gang members are ever hit no matter how many others might be around and there's never a knife found anyplace but in a person. That's why I hate thinking about stuff like this, there's just something about a thought like this that makes a girl - or anyone normal for that matter - just plain uncomfortable. "And he's always so damn calm about it all they say. The blood and the violence are one thing, but how can anyone be that damn calm about something like this?" Listening to the radio calls of the emergency units has been doing her no good. He's always gone before they show up. Blood and bodies, the dead and the bleeding and a handful of throwing knives, that's all he leaves behind. And balls - super balls of all things - this time he left super balls.

"I don't even want to know what they were for," she says quietly and shakes her head.

She's heard from some of the city's other heroes that the bigger gangs seem to have other interests standing behind them, interests with resources and power at their disposal. Only someone who has connections, good connections - better connections than any cop or hero she knows of - with the streets could show up and disappear like he does. Finding this guy, whoever he is..... "Be careful what you wish for, girl."

Finding this guy, though, might be the key to learning just who is standing behind the gangs.

Her foot's still tapping and her restlessness is building and the blackout is calling in its own way. He's out there somewhere tonight, that's a given. Maybe she'll find him. Maybe not. But all hell's got be getting ready to break loose and she needs to be out there.....

Deadeye at the Newsstand

They called it the Newsstand when he was on the force. Cop humor. The building itself is essentially a fortified warehouse where the magazines - the storerooms for all the guns, ammo and other weapons that the force has confiscated - are kept. Most of what is brought there, especially the stuff stored on the upper floors, gets sent out every month to be destroyed. The basement, however, is another story. Some things are simply too advanced, or just too dangerous, to be handled that way. There is a network of insulated vaults in the basements to contain those particular items until somebody can figure out what to do with them. Back when he was on the force, he heard stories from a couple of the guys who did a turn of guard duty over there about stuff being down in those basements for years - either because somebody forgot about it or because nobody knew just what the hell to do with it. He's heard other stories too. Stories that every now and again something from the inventory just happens to turn up missing. Stories that every once in a while there's a weapon used out on the streets that has no right being in the hands of the guy that's using it.

Then there's the story he's been hearing lately. Word has it that some of the One-liners have been making noise about trying to hit the Newsstand. On any ordinary day something like that might make for a good story, but not much else. The place is too well defended and the city has too damn many heroes for a group like the One-liners to fight off. But the power's out and there's no way it's coming back on any time soon from the look of things. The day was rough enough and there's too many cops sick over friends that are hurt or dead and with the chaos of the blackout every available guy will be out on the streets as the force attempts to respond to thousands of situations it'll need to deal with. The heroes too. With all that running around going on, there ain't going to be anybody looking out for a place like the Newsstand on a night like tonight. They'll be coming all right and they'll be coming in force. And he wonders just what it is that makes him think he'll be able to stop it.

Deep in the gloom of his warehouse sanctuary, Dr. Wolfram watched the news feeds as they continued broadcasting up to the satellites. A cruel smile crossed his lips as he eased back in his chair. With the city in darkness, striking at the hour it did, the police and heroes would be hard pressed to contain the surge of violence surely to occur. Even as the energy dissipated and drained on the bock the massive industrial generators kicked in.

Standing easily the black clad man narrowed his eyes. Tonight would be a good night. “Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war…” he muttered even as his phone rang. Eying the number a moment as it rang again before he answered. “Yes…yes I understand. I shall do that…thank you.” Exhaling he bowed is shoulders a moment before grabbing his top coat and cane. Who ever his mysterious benefactor was he was nothing if not skilled. The power outage would allow him to slip into the Hall of Heroes. Whistling easily the villain known as Dr. Wolfram jaunted through the increasing chaos whistling a haunting tune.

Slowly winding his way through the crowd Dr. Wolfram reached the designated spot, a moment later a large black sedan rolled by. As it stopped to make the turn the door opened and a voice beckoned the dapper villain into the darkened interior. Smiling, Dr. Wolfram eased into car then before the door closed it sped away. Seated next to him a very large man with strange eyes stared back at him.

“Doctor…” the man said, Wolfram detected a slight purr to the voice, “We want to employ your skills to retrieve an item stored in the Hall of Heroes.” Nodding Wolfram glanced out at the stopped traffic as the car whipped around the stopped vehicles. “I understand, I believe that I can retrieve the item you seek.” Eying the man, it was a bit unsettling as the man smiled a very Cheshire grin, replete with gleaming teeth. Wolfram cleared his throat, “Obtaining the Energy Ankh will be difficult even with the power outage the Hall of Heroes has its own generators and a dozen or so police officers and heroes at any one time.”

“Yes we are aware of that, our employer has made arraignments.” Reaching into a satchel the large man pulled a pair of night vision goggles out. “You will need these once we drop you off, wait until the power goes before you enter.” Nodding Dr. Wolfram took the goggles then felt the car slow and stop. Looking out the window a minute, he eased out and said slowly, “I’ll be waiting for your distraction.”

In the car the man let loose a odd laughter, it made the hair on the god doctors neck rise. “Be ready…” With that the sedan sped off into the dark, the last sight the rear lights glowing angrily as it whipped around the corner. Glancing at the large fortress like structure known as the Hall of Heroes, Dr. Wolfram inhaled and stepped into the shadows, forming a shield before him he waited until the lights flickered then faded around the large building. Donning his goggles he chuckled, “Into the gates of hell…”

Deadeye at the Newsstand

ThumpthumpthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMP
ThumpthumpthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMP
ThumpthumpthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMPthumpthumpTHUMPTHUMP

Who the hell cares about a blackout when the van's tricked out with a killer sound system? Not Demetrius and his crew, that's for damn sure. The buzz from that new designer stimulant that's been floating around the streets kicks in and he presses down on the gas. The van lurches forward and speeds down the side street, wheels squealing as it rounds the corner onto Grand Avenue. Two more vans follow, each carrying another well armed crew of One-liners. The bass line kicks in hard and Demetrius maxes out the volume. Gonna be a sweet score tonight. Maybe waste some cops. Grab some guns. Make some noise.

Been waitin' for a night like this for a long time. Gonna hit the bastards so hard they'll be dead an' we'll be gone 'fore they even know we been there. He smiles. "Gonna hit 'em hard man. Gonna hit 'em real hard."

This section of Grand Avenue never has much traffic on it after dark. It has even less tonight - just three vans blasting hip-hop music and speeding recklessly toward the Newsstand. And a solitary man dressed in black.

"DEMETRIUS!" Joey's pointing toward the windshield. No, not at the windshield. Through it. Some stupid mother is just standing there right in the center of Grand Avenue.

"Won't be standin' there for long. Gonna run his ass down." Demetrius presses down on the gas.

"Ain't movin', man. Got us a crazy here."

"Gonna have us a dead crazy."

"What the hell's he doin'? Got a gun, man! Crazy motha's gonna shoot!"

"Crazy motha's gonna die. That what he gonna do."

Demetrius holds the wheel tightly, his features hardened into a defiant stare on the figure in the center of the street. The man, whoever it is, is calm and that kind of calmness is disturbing. "Gonna die, asshole!" He presses the gas pedal fully to the floor, pulling rapidly away from the other two vans and aiming directly for......

There is flash of light, bright and brief, from the spot where the figure stands. A sharp cracking sound comes from the windshield sounding a discordant note against the steady thumping of the hip-hop bass line. Demetrius stiffens suddenly and then slumps forward over the steering wheel.

Deadeye at the Newsstand

To be a good cop, especially in this city, a guy's gotta be willing to learn - so willing that he'll go out of his way to do it - and back when he was on the force, he was a damn good cop. The thing is, there are some things that a city cop needs to know that just can't be learned in the city like they can be learned someplace else, someplace like that little town in the mountains near Trout Run. He heads up that way a couple times a year, but especially when it's bow hunting season. A guy can meet some of the best marksman around when he goes bow hunting, guys that are not just good with arrows, but really know how to get the job done with rifles and handguns too. It's funny what some of those guys practice on out that way at their makeshift shooting ranges, all kinds of homemade targets - including cars. Putting a bullet through a windshield in a way that hits a target behind it ain't no simple thing and it can't be done right without practice, lots of practice. A guy's gotta use the right caliber gun with the right kind of ammo and he's gotta know how to account for things like the way a bullet is likely deflect once it hits the angle of the glass. If the vehicle happens to be moving, things get that much harder, especially if it's bearing down on the guy that's trying to make the shot. Doing something like that takes more than a bit of knowledge, it takes guts.

Or stupidity. Outwardly he is calm because he cannot afford not to be. Despite his remarkable accuracy, what he does is not automatic. Good aim and good timing are only part of what it takes to hit a moving target, and they're the easy part. Nerve, steadiness and discipline are the other part, along with a willingness to actually pull the trigger and live with the consequences. The consequences are the hard part. Sometimes the consequence of a shot breaks a guy, even a strong guy, and he'll never get near a trigger again. Sometimes a guy runs from the consequences of a shot by blaming his target. Sometimes a guy just don't care and so doesn't bother to feel or face anything. Then there are the guys who feel the consequence of every time they've ever squeezed the trigger of a gun they've pointed at somebody else and can still pick up a gun and aim it. Those are the guys a person needs to be afraid of. Someone's going to die here, both he and the driver are sure of that, and each of them is willing to risk his life to make sure it's the other one. Both he and the driver have made their choices, all that's left now is to see if either of them will be alive on the other side of this to face whatever consequences might come.

Kind of catchy for hip-hop. It's amazing what can flash through a guy's head when he needs to be focused, and he's learned over time that the truly focused mind is that one that allows surface thoughts to pass so long as they remain only on the surface of his thinking - trying to block such things simply takes too much energy and takes the attention away from its real focus. Nothing matters now. Not the booming bass line of the music. Not the brightness of the high beams in his eyes. Not the size and speed of the van as it rushes toward him. Not the driver. The shot matters. Only the shot. His breathing is measured as is the pressure of his finger on the trigger. There will be quite a kick from the shot once he makes it, and he can't afford to let that through him off balance or he's a dead man. Sometimes, of course, a surface thought penetrates a bit too deeply and must be shoved aside. One thing at a time. Just make the damn shot.

Two more breaths and squeeze. It's best to keep time this way if one really knows himself and understands how the whole body has to work together to make a difficult shot happen. Inhale. Exhale. The van is so close he can smell the hot rubber of the tires. Inhale. Exhale. Squeeze.

His arms and shoulders shake with the force of the recoil and he has no time to reholster the gun. His accuracy with weapons is obvious and that's what others notice about him, but it's his reflexes that keep him alive. The van lurches hard to his right. He jumps left and he lands hard.

General Freedom stopped the street lights flickered again. This was not right, something was happening, something that caused the hairs on his nape to stiffen. The swirl of blue energies washed over his body. This incident was not just a heist, it was a distraction, glancing at all the police and emergency personnel, the blue clad hero exhaled softly. What ever was to happen next would be bad.


Dr. Wolfram and the Hall of Heroes-

Even as the lights died, the black clad man was moving, a swell of psi-energy welled around him before slamming full bore into the heavy doors leading into the hall. The explosion of debris showered the police officers and the young heroes in a hall of dust and splintered metal flake. Spotting some people in the haze as they recovered Dr. Wolfram smiled wickedly as he unleashed a torrent of force bolts into the helpless victims. Each one lifted with immense force and dashed against the far wall. A sickening thud accompanied each as a few left trails of blood sliding down the once pristine walls.

As a young woman, gaudily dressed in a brilliant yellow costume slumped to the floor, Wolfram was already moving with a deliberate ease through the complex, finding the secured elevator he tapped in a memorized code. After a moment the doors opened. With a last glance around the man, whistled his familiar haunting tune as he stepped inside. A few minutes later he was staring at a massive metal cage, grinning he focused beams of psi-energy, slamming them into the black lattice work. Under the immense pressure the steel relented and twisted away, leaving an opening for Wolfram to squeeze through.

Pausing he oriented himself before proceeding to the artifacts room. Testing the handle he was saddened to see it was unlocked. Stepping inside he rummaged through the room before finding the case he sought. Hefting it he grunted as the weight surprised him. Wheeling the man known as Dr. Wolfram quickly made his way out and on to the street. Glancing around he spotted no one. Placing a hand on the case again he smiled. It wasn’t often that he would experience the sweet pleasure of defeating the heroes. Narrowing his eyes he frowned, yet this victory wasn’t his, at least not his alone. Someone else had planned this, had the resources and the moxie to pull this off and all the great Dr. Wolfram would be was a bag man. Clenching a fist, a bitter taste filled his mouth. Before he could do anything a shadow fell across his body, and an expansive smiled greeted him.

“You have our package?” purred the bulk before him, Dr. Wolfram nodded hesitantly, he was a little fearful of this mysterious man. It was the same fear that gripped him when he faced General Freedom, a fear he hated. “Yes. However may I ask why you…or should I say our wonderful employer wants this item. Last time I check it could only be wielded by one man and he died.”

There was a pregnant pause as the bulky figure peered down, “My dear Doctor, that is none of your concern, I believe if you check your account the sum of five million has been deposited in the manner you specified. Now may I have the Ankh?” Occasionally a man has choices in his life where he makes a stand. These are pivotal moments in a life, moments where the entire makeup of a life is altered. This was one such moment for Dr. Wolfram, yet as much as he wanted to make that stand. To say no and take the Ankh for himself he knew he would not. For all his power and cruelty he was still a petty and fearful man. Nodding he handed the case over and exhaled as the moment passed.

“We’ll be in touch; you have proven to be a good asset.” purred the bulky shadow as he walked away into the gloom leaving the doctor alone with his thoughts.