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Friedrich "Fritz" Kravits

"Some people really need to lighten up."

0 · 146 views · located in FBPD

a character in “Blackburn”, as played by Hammocker

Groups

The city's vigilante guardians.

Description

Real Name: Friedrich "Fritz" Kravitz

Nickname/Codename/Alias: Lillim

Allegiance: The Mavericks, somewhat begrudgingly

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Appearance:
Out of costume: Fritz has pronounced, angular features. His face is rectangular for the most part, and almost appears to be slightly squashed inward. His hair is colored dirty blond, and hangs several inches below his shoulders, but is generally pulled back in a ponytail by a rubber band. His clothing is simple, often of a single color, and his sneakers are worn out and covered in black dirt.

In-costume: Fritz costume consists of dark blue, fireproof coveralls with matching balaclava as well as goggles and gloves. The coveralls house thin fuel tanks that are hooked up to nozzles at Fritz's sleeves, allowing for the discharge of fire. His boots reach about halfway up his shins and cling close to his skin. His gloves are fitted with retractable metallic claws. The only skin he has exposed while in costume is a small portion of the front of his neck.

Personality: Fritz is highly confident in his own abilities, to the point of arrogance. His high speed and agility has given him the idea that he is close to invincible while on his feet. If his abilities are criticized, he will instinctively brush any negative comments off. He can be an excessive flirt and is usually oblivious to rejection of his advances. He views the Mavericks with suspicion, believing that no person could simply be doing what they think is right without a selfish motivation.

Childhood neglect has left Fritz with deep-seated bitterness and a need to be completely self-reliant. Fritz loathes accepting help from others, and hates the idea of accepting that he does need help at times. He never has had any close friends prior to joining the Mavericks, leaving him suspicious of most people. The more independence Fritz has, therefore, means to him the lower possibility of being tricked or cheated by people who would take advantage of trust. If one were to try to befriend Fritz, they would be met with heavy suspicion and scrutiny of potential ulterior motives.

Personal History: Fritz was born in Fort Blackburn to an upper-middle class Jewish family. His community was largely closed off in terms of its culture. The vast majority were members of and regularly attended the same synagogue, and families invariably sent their children to the nearby Schechter Day School. While Fritz was never discouraged from interacting with people from outside his community, no such interaction was ever facilitated either. The stagnant nature of the people around him only chafed more and more on Fritz as he grew up surrounded by people who he saw as all exactly the same.

As the only child of his parents, from an early he was pressured to excel in academics, and take up studying business as early as possible. Unfortunately, Fritz was generally considered to be lazy, and only ever begrudgingly spent time studying methods of economic success. The only interest Fritz ever had that his parents approved of was his affinity for mathematics. He tended to slack off in order to pursue more personal interests of his, most commonly the study of urban mythology, gymnastics, and later sonokinesis. He only worked just hard enough in school to keep his grades at a B- average.

Not all hope in Fritz was lost, however, as IQ testing showed him to have a score of at least 140. Much to Fritz's chagrin, his results led to him being put in one specialized class after another. Eventually, he agreed to stay in one class to develop a singular skill, mechanics and engineering, in exchange for being allowed to take classes in gymnastics despite his parents' disapproval.

Fritz was about 14 when his sonokinesis began to manifest itself. His first experience with controlling sound involved him sitting in his room at night with the lights off. He found that he could track how far the sound had gone before stopping, allowing him to form a foggy image of his surroundings in his mind. The experience that solidified the ability in his mind involved Fritz accidentally breaking a glass by whistling in its general direction while staring at the refractions it made. Nearly every glass in the house was broken on that day, and Fritz continued to experiment with his newfound ability. Within two years of frequent practice, Fritz had learned not only how to shatter certain materials, but how to manipulate the apparent source of sound, project sound to only a small area or an individual, and magnify sounds to high volumes.

Around age 17, he started on plans for a suit based upon one of his favorite urban legends: Spring-heeled Jack. At this point, he had just enough technical experience to create the inner workings of the boots that would allow him to leap great heights, but not enough to create an apparatus that would allow him "breathe" fire. While working on his boots, he began to research how to builds such a device so that it would be easily fit onto clothing, and later purchased flame retardant coveralls, a balaclava and gloves of the same material, and some goggles. Over the next several years, Fritz worked to get his devices into working condition, and around his second year in boring college, he finally got his boots working. After several experiments, he managed to perfect his jump while not breaking any bones on his landing. Not long after, he was able to finish his portable flamethrower after coming across two thin gas tanks that could fit between two layers of fabric. Unfortunately, he could not figure out a way to expel flames near his face safely, so he settled for having two nozzles running down his arms and coming out through his wrists.

Fritz left Blackburn at 18, and headed up to Michigan for college. He promptly rented an apartment in which he stayed for all four years of his education. Not once did he visit Blackburn in that time. His parents never seemed eager to have him back over the phone, and so Fritz never brought the idea up, even around holidays.

On his return to Blackburn, Fritz only briefly stayed with his parents before taking up residence in an apartment building. During the day, he worked as a mechanical engineer and took jobs as they came, and at night, when he was not at a bar or a club, Fritz was jumping around the city in-costume, scaring and mugging anyone unfortunate enough to fall on his radar. Often Fritz came into indirect contact with Blackburn's underground in his exploration of the city, and he learned to keep an ear to the ground just in case some especially important information happened to come his way. On occasion, the Mavericks would go after Fritz, though, he was never a priority target.

After burning down a synagogue, Fritz was finally caught and arrested by one of the Mavericks, Shade. He admitted to a variety of crimes without hesitation, but only seemed guilty when it came to setting the synagogue on fire which he maintained as being accidental and "only sort of" his fault. Once arrested, however, he was offered a deal by Shade: his freedom in exchange for his cooperation. Fritz readily accepted the deal, and has been working with the Mavericks despite his distrust of them ever since. Through his connections with the Mavericks, he has even gotten a consistent job at Armamax.

Powers, Weapons, Ect.: Fritz is a sonokinetic, meaning that he has the ability to alter, intensify, distort, etc. various sound, and, in turn, his hearing is acute, allowing him to hear sounds from 20 Hz to 22 Khz. The same ability also renders him capable of using basic echolocation. His custom boots allow him to to jump to heights of up to fifteen feet. Years of practice and training have made Fritz a skilled gymnast and extremely light on his feet.

Weaknesses: Fritz is just as fragile as any human. In fact, he is even more fragile than many humans as he has a slighter than average frame. Every time he jumps to a great height, Fritz takes the risk of being severely injured or killed upon landing. His suit can only carry a limited amount of fuel because of how thin the containers need to be in order to fit between the fabric of his outfit. When he does not have the element of surprise and confusion, Fritz can be easily overwhelmed. Excessive use of his sonokinesis causes Fritz severe headaches and throat pains, preventing him from using his abilities constantly.

Any additional information we should know: Fritz's criminal record summarized includes over 20 counts of theft, fifteen counts of property damage, five counts of trespassing, at least seven counts of harassment, four counts of sexual harassment, two counts of public intoxication, and a single count of arson. While Fritz will admit to willfully committing almost all of these crimes, he maintains that he did not intend to burn down a synagogue.

So begins...

Friedrich "Fritz" Kravits's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dylan Nelson Character Portrait: Anastasia "Ana" Tokarev Character Portrait: Alexander Sanderson Character Portrait: Friedrich "Fritz" Kravits Character Portrait: Alice Meadows Character Portrait: Richard Cheswick Character Portrait: Jessica Napier Character Portrait: Devon Steele
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#, as written by TCoS
Richard looked out over the round table at the rest of the Mavericks. He bit his lip and took another headcount. Ana, Jay, Alex, Devon, Alice, Fritz... Everyone seemed to be accounted for. He hesitated still, as though he was waiting for someone else to arrive when, in fact, he was merely contemplating how exactly to open this meeting. Richard felt more of a need to pick and choose his words than usual. The situation would be more personal to at least one of his teammates, he knew. Best to avoid rattling any cages.

"From what I understand, certain people, or more aptly, certain gangs, have managed to get their hands on unusually high amounts of military grade weaponry as of late. More disturbing still, is the fact that these weapons were apparently produced by ArmaMax," Richard finally said, projecting across the table. "This sudden spike has allowed these groups to get away with more of their activities and dominate potential competition." He paused, taking a breath. "The questions we have here is this: who, or what, is acquiring and pawning these firearms? This question raises many more questions, I'm aware, but it's a starting point. Once we have it answered, we can go from there."

"So, do we have any leads?" Ana asked.

Richard turned to focus on Ana. "Aside from the ArmaMax labelling on the weapons, no. We'll need to search for more leads."

Jay, who had been remaining as silent as usual, spoke up without making eye contact with anyone.

"I'm gonnae take my team on a hunt for th' smugglers," she announced simply, straightening her posture and glancing around the room. It looked as if she had more to say, but nothing else came from her mouth.

With a nod, Richard spoke once more, "I'd say that that would be a good idea." There was no denying Jay in this case. Richard figured it best not to ask for more specifics.

"I'll try to get in touch with some of the guys in the Army, I know a few in logistics. Maybe they know something, a missing shipment, a mistake in the count of arms delivered or something like that. It would be how I'd try to get to the weapons, when it's on the move and security is thinnest," Devon said with a little caution.

Jay nodded affirmatively, which was about the kindest thing she'd do.

"I'd appreciate it."

"And I'll definitely be sending out insect scouts," Alice added, glancing at Jay with a look of deep sympathy. "We'll sweep the whole city, from Freehold to South-East End. Hopefully we can narrow down on our culprit that way."

"Excellent. For the time being, finding any clues to the source of these weapons will be priority for our teams," Richard explained. "Unfortunately, I have less of a plan than normal, but I think we can figure this out just based on what we know."

"Where are we going to start first?" Dylan spared a brief glance to Jay, taking in on how this was affecting her.

"We're gonnae sweep thro' the warehoose area. That's likely where they're storin' their arms."

"That place is always a gold mine fer criminal activity," Alex added, not looking up from the game of Pac-Man he was playing on his phone.

"Maybe we might gain a bit more if we stuck a few listeners around found gun caches. Might hear a name, a location or something along those lines. Of course we could just clean them out and try to beat answers out of the goons guarding the cache, but somehow I doubt they'll give the fine details to some bulletcatcher in the field." Devon said, considering what options they had.

"Well, why not both," came Alex's retort.

"I doubt they'll return for quite a while to the cache after we have cleaned it out. As soon as the change of guards comes around they'll know we hit the cache and report back. And my listeners, well... They only last a few days max," Devon reasoned.

"That's why ya spy on 'em first, beat their asses second." Alex set his phone aside after being chased down by one of those damned ghosts.

"True, though if we do that we might want to post a few of us in the vicinity. After all, if they decide to move the cache before we hit it we'll have nothing," Devon admitted. Alex nodded in agreement.

Across the table, Alice was tapping her chin in thought. "In addition to Mr. Steele's bugs, I can add in some literal ones as well," she offered. "It'll give us some more flexibility, I think, as well as a bit more information with which to go on."

Richard spoke up again at that point. "I think we have some good ideas to start our investigations then. Are there any other suggestions? Other questions?" he asked, swiveling his head slowly across the table.

"One more. Can we meet up here at 19:00? That way I can give everyone a few listeners and show how to use 'em," Devon replied to Rich' question.

"That seems like a good idea." Richard replied. "Can we all agree to that?"

"That works for me, no complaints of that plan."

"Then everyone knows what to do." Richard stated decidedly. "As per usual, talk to me or Jay if you have any additional questions. Meeting adjourned."

The setting changes from Fort Blackburn to South-East End

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Friedrich "Fritz" Kravits Character Portrait: Alice Meadows Character Portrait: Richard Cheswick Character Portrait: Devon Steele
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Fort Blackburn's South-East End was absolutely teeming with brownfield sites, now-abandoned buildings that once had both name and purpose. A testament to the area's severe urban decay.

Even in broad daylight, this old abandoned building still managed to look like something straight out from a horror film. Ladybird tilted her head, trying to imagine how the site might have looked a decade ago. A… factory, perhaps? Maybe one of those quaint shoe factories back home in England. Or a toy factory! She smiled slightly, imagination running wild. This structure—this sprawling gray phantom—might have been an innocent toy factory, once upon a dubious time.

A handful of insect scouts hummed into view, recapturing Ladybird's attention from whatever fantasyland she'd drifted off to. After a brief telepathic exchange, Ladybird nodded decisively and turned back to where Corona, Lillim, and Blackwatch stood, awaiting her verdict.

"I do believe we have a hit," she said, with a thumbs up and a grin.

"About time." Lillim muttered, bouncing on his toes and darting his head from side to side. It had been way too long since they had gotten moving for his tastes.

Corona stepped towards her, giving a reciprocal smile. "Excellent, then we might finally be able to find some new info. Can you lead the way?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Sure enough, Ladybird nodded. "Absolutely! This way, gentlemen."

By some unspoken command, her insects zipped back into the building, with Ladybird following close behind. The dark interior was a veritable maze, all uniform gray walls and peeling plaster. Ladybird was a brisk, if somewhat tortuous navigator. She would pause frequently, head cocked in concentration, before completely changing course—presumably to avoid any gang members that may have been patrolling the building. Effective, but dizzying.

They eventually came to halt on a tattered balcony that overlooked the proceedings of a room that was both spacious and sparsely lit. Several men and women were bustling about the scene—moving boxes, inspecting wares. The Mavericks had found the arms cache.

Corona stepped forward as far as he could manage without risking a fall. He slowly turned his head to look over the operation, squinting in the dark. Considering the lack of light, he would be less potent than usual. He would have to rely pretty heavily on the others.

"We need to clear these guys out, most of them at least." Corona finally declared, keeping his voice low. "Any way we can. And if we can keep at least one around for questioning, that's even better." He glanced back at his teammates. "Shouldn't be too much trouble. We've got the jump on them, and a clear line of sight."

"Clear line of sight means they can see us too, and more importantly that they know where to aim," Blackwatch remarked. Looking at the situation below he noted clouds of dust being swooped into the air as the goons moved the boxes. In the low light conditions the orange color of his Capsaicin mix would blend in with the colors of the dust that was flung into the air. However, throwing a grenade down wouldn't be a smart thing to do; even if the goons didn't notice the falling grenade, then the thud as it landed would be audible. Using his gun would be an even worse idea. He grabbed a grenade from his belt and was wondering if he should risk it. In the end, he agreed with himself that it would be too risky.

"Ladybird, do you think you could get your bugs to carry this grenade somewhere in the room below, undetected, and then have them pull the pin?" Blackwatch asked, looking over to his teammate.

She considered his request for a moment before nodding an affirmative. It would require a bit more finesse than usual, but was still well within the realm of possibility.

Blackwatch put the grenade down next to him, to give the insects the room to crawl under or around it as they would need to get a grip on the for them huge object. As he did so, Ladybird was reaching into her side pouch. She withdrew and a vial and popped off the cap; immediately, a cloud of insects funneled into existence. Small, modest worker flies, specially bred for strength. The flies settled on Blackwatch's grenade and, with barely a whisper of sound, lifted it into the air. Under Ladybird's careful direction, the tiny entourage flew downwards, clinging to shadowy areas to avoid detection.

"Right, then," Ladybird said, when she'd managed to maneuver the grenade into a suitable location. "Pulling the pin now."
On ground level, the worker flies promptly abandoned the device after triggering the grenade, unwilling to linger in the face of an imminent explosion. There was a brief silence as the detonation time trickled down. A few seconds later clouds of orange gas poured out of the grenade and slowly spread themselves throughout the room.

Most of the goons ignored what they'd assume were just mere dustclouds, almost immediately regretting doing so as they breathed in the gas. An intense burning sensation in their lungs and eyes made them aware of their mistake. Chaos ensued on the floor below the Mavericks, as the goons hit with the gas screamed in agony and desperately tried to get to a water source. In turn this caused some of the goons who tried to help the afflicted to walk through the gas and become afflicted themselves. After a short while most who were hit by the gas were on the ground silently whimpering from the burning pain. Most of the gas had now dispersed enough that those walking through it weren't affected anymore.

"Not the cleanest way to subdue a crowd, but it is effective," Blackwatch said to his teammates as he looked at the scene below. Quite a few of the goons had been taken down by the gas, but those who still stood frantically looked around trying to uncover who or what had attacked them.

"Good work," Corona praised with a nod to Blackwatch and Alice, "Let's get down there."

"Corona, where would you want to have me at? I can give you guys cover fire from this balcony and give you some extra light to work with. Or, I can go downstairs with you guys, but I doubt I'll have the opportunity to give you that extra light to work with," Blackwatch asked.

"Best you stay up here. You'll be most useful that way," Corona stated. He looked to Lillim, "Let's get down there then." He pulled in a sheet of light from the hall where they had come in, and set it half way to the factory floor. Hopping over the guardrail, he landed on the makeshift platform before jumping to the floor.

Lillim easily bounded off of the balcony, landing on the padded toes of his boot. It was about time he got to make a decent jump that day.

Ladybird, for her part, stayed on the balcony. Which isn't to say that she was idle; from behind Lillim and Corona rushed a swift stream of insects that bit at eyes and stung at faces. Those who had not been incapacitated by the gas were quickly preoccupied with swatting ineffectively at the air.

Blackwatch took his position on the edge of the balcony, making his profile as small as possible and giving him the best stability by laying down. He then took the current magazine out of his gun and loaded a different one. Taking aim at one of the goons, who was trying to aim for Corona, he fired a short burst. This caused two small clouds of the orange gas to form in the goons face, mixed in with a few bright flashes of light. Having neutralized the goon, Blackwatch continued laying down supressing fire on any goon who stumbled into his sights.

Corona grabbed the light given off by Blackwatch's shots, and sent it into the face of a goon hunkered down where the balcony duo would be unable to see him directly. Corona's victim let out a shout, dropping his gun to grab at his eyes. He turned his head after taking care of the goon, searching for any others hiding in the dark.

Lillim, meanwhile, ducked and dodged around the unconscious bodies of those who had already been taken out, distracting several thugs who were trying to get a shot at him. Every now and again, he sent out a carefully aimed wave of sound, sending individual enemies into sudden migraines without any apparent cause.

Once the rest of the group of thugs had been felled, Corona stepped carefully over the unconscious towards the nearest crate. He tore the lid off, finding a stash of what looked to be assault rifles within. Corona pulled one out and looked it over. Surely enough, the weapon was branded with the ArmaMax logo. Placing the first rifle down, he picked up another, and found the same stylized lettering there. He shook his head and put the rifle down before heading over to the next closest crate and pulling it open. Shotguns this time, it looked like. He grabbed one and looked it over, once again finding the logo.

Corona shook his head and placed the gun down, tilting his head downward as he considered just how many guns were being kept in this factory and exactly whose hands they might end up in. A small cylinder caught his eye, glinting slightly with the minimal light of the room. Kneeling down, Corona picked it up and squinted as he slowly spun it in his hands to get a better look. He identified it as a shell casing for a shotgun round, but he did not remember a shotgun going off during the altercation with the thugs. Before long, an inscription carved into the object caught his eye.

Standing up, Corona looked from Lillim to the two still standing on the balcony. "I think we've got what we're looking for," he said, "Let's get out of here, and alert the authorities to this evidence."

The setting changes from South-East End to FBPD

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Josibel Morganstern Character Portrait: Friedrich "Fritz" Kravits Character Portrait: Richard Cheswick Character Portrait: Devon Steele Character Portrait: Jonathan Doyle
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#, as written by TCoS
Corona walked next to Blackwatch as the two traversed a near empty street. Even with some idea of what they were looking for, finding actual evidence and clues was still going to be primarily a game of luck. Lillim was nearby, Corona was sure, but he had insisted on being allowed to stray from the group. Corona supposed that letting him be was for the best. He tended to get restless just walking with the group, and he was not half bad at scouting for the group.

It always seemed to be a lot harder to get anything done during daytime partols, mostly because the costumes didn't exactly lend themselves for blending in. Eyes constantly watched the movement of Corona and Blackwatch as they walked through the streets, in the distance the distinct sound of shutting doors, windows and shutters of those who didn't want to have anything to do with the vigilantes walking the street near them. You couldn't really blame them, some might try to hide their criminal activities, others just don't want a chase or hostage situation come through their properties. "If only we could cover enough ground by sticking to the alleyways and back corners, would make the day partols so much more productive. Most of the crooks are long gone before we even get close enough to find out what they are doing," Blackwatch mentioned to Corona while looking back at the gazes of the people that remained on the street.

"It's harder when we don't have too much direction," Corona replied, keeping his eyes forward, "But I think we do just fine for ourselves most of the time. We've taken stabs in the dark and come out on top before, haven't we?" Internally, Corona had his own doubts. Just wandering the city looking for a lead could take days or weeks before they found anything useful, and they did not have the luxury of time at this point. Still, he had to offer hope to his comrades, realistic or not. High morale would keep the group going more than anything else.

"Hey, guys, you might wanna come listen to this." Lillim said from atop a nearby roof, though, his voice seemed to be right next to Corona and Blackwatch. He waved at them, and gestured down to the alleyway below before crouching back down to continue listening himself.

Blackwatch looked over to Lilim and then back down to the alleyway he was pointing at. If he recalled correctly it was Tiger territory, but beyond being a location of the Tigers local street vendors at night usually nothing happened there. They really were looking for some Golem activity involving the new hardware they have gotten their hands on, but whiping up some Tigers along the way would make for a nice change of pace from the walking. Taking care not to step on something that would make a loud sound, Blackwatch made his way to the wall close to the entry of the alley. As he reached the corner he couldn't help but feel underinformed, he didn't know how many he would be up against if for whatever reason they came his way, nor what kind of hardware they carried. But he sure as hell couldn't stick his head out of cover to see for himself and asking Lilim wouldn't be possible without being audible by those in the alley.

Corona slipped against the wall next to Blackwatch, straining his ears to hear. He sometimes envied Lillim's ability to hear as well as he could. While he was by no means deaf, he sometimes had difficulty understanding words if he had to listen from a distance. Having a group was good for supplementing such minor deficiencies, Corona supposed.

"Yeah, I heard the guy gave in to our demands and he's now gonna give us some better guns, something even better than the Golems are getting I heard," one voice from the alleyway replied to whomever he was with. "Good timing too, even if it's just a hand me down from the big guys, I really need a more reliable gun. This one jams way too often," another voice mentioned, accompanied by the sound of a slight rattle from two loose metal pieces hitting each other. "You still running around with that thing? I thought you hit a gun shop a few weeks ago." A third voice asked. "Yeah, well... I only managed to escape the police by dropping the loot and taking a swim," The second voice answered followed by the sound of at least three people laughing. "Speaking about the law, it's been awfully quiet of the street for a bit. I'm gonna check out what is going on." The third voice said as footsteps came closer.

What Corona could hear alarmed him even more than what he had seen the prior day. If what they were saying was the case, they could have some serious trouble on their hands. The fighting that went on between the two major gangs was bad enough as it was; they did not need even greater firepower. Even worse if the guns were also coming from ArmaMax. They had to find out more. They would have to corner one of these guys and question him.

Flattening himself against the wall, Corona nodded to Blackwatch as he waited for the man who had been speaking to come just close enough. Sometimes these mooks just made their job too easy.

Blackwatch took stance to shoot, aiming for where he expected the body of their new informant would be. Unsure of what exactly he had loaded, and without time to check or switch, he figured it would be his best chance, given what he had packed for the day. He just prayed he could aim and shoot before the guy could react and that he didn't have Black Death's Breath loaded. The crook came into his sights, and on a reflex he fired. Looking at the needle that now stuck out from the body of the crook, he realized which rounds where loaded. Surprise mixed with confusion allowed Blackwatch to throw the guy on the ground as he jumped into him. As his vision turned into the alleyway he saw the backs of 5 running crooks and fired a few shots in the hope get a hit on a few more. A few of the shots must have hit, but unless intercepted they'd probably be able to run a few city blocks before succumbing to the tranquilizers.

"Well, I got one of them," Blackwatch said, looking down to an almost pitiful sight of the crook trying to fight the tranquilizers and crawl away.

Corona strode over to stand above the unfortunate mook that Blackwatch had incapacitated. "One is plenty. I'll bet you anything he has all the information we need," he said, grabbing the man by his upper arms and hauling him into a limp, upright position, "Well, he will, once he's not as loopy," Corona clarified. He almost felt sorry for the mook, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Only almost, though. "How long do you think we'll need to wait?"

Blackwatch poked at the crook with the tip of his boot, looked at the lack of a reaction and then replied: "Now, this ain't exact science, but given how he doesn't react anymore and his size... At least four hours. He'll probably be a bit sleepy and maybe a tad numb, but interogatable when he wakes up."

"Well, I suppose we have some time then," Corona said, slinging the goon over his shoulder. "Probably should keep an eye on him though."

At that point, Lillim landed on the ground next to Blackwatch and Corona.

"Awesome, we've got something. Now we have to wait," he said, scowling at the idea. Already he was pacing back and forth and bouncing on his heels.

"Um, I think we should move him. Maybe call the cops and have them interrogate him at the police station. They probably are interested in the information too," Blackwatch proposed as he looked at his surroundings. "Staying here would just make us an easy target for both Golem and Tiger attacks," he said while taking aim at one of the 'spectators' as he drew something that resembled a gun from under his coat. The man quickly pocketed the gun in response, but it cemented his view on the current situation.

Corona winced as he saw Blackwatch point his gun at what looked like a civillian. Even armed with tranquilizers, he could not say that he liked the idea of threatening someone who had not done any harm. "Definitely need to move him somewhere safer." Corona agreed, "Handing him over to the cops would probably be our best bet for the time being. Let's get in touch with them then."

"I'll give them a call." Blackwatch said as he switched to the police frequency on his transciever. "Hello, Blackwatch here. We have a subdued Tiger that needs to be brought to the station for interrogation regarding an arms trade. We are at Alton Drive, southbound side," he said to the operator.

---

Pausing mid-bite, Josibel frowned and looked across the table at her phone, which vibrated loudly. She almost considered not answering it, but that would be rude. With a sigh, she dropped her fork, picked up the phone, and answered it. As soon as she hung up, Josibel picked up the plate and dumped it into her stretching gullet, devouring the rest of her steak and eggs in one gulp. Another interrogation so soon? Man, this city really did need more law enforcement.

Josibel threw on her coat and hat, left a wad of cash on the table to cover her meal and tip, then dashed outside to hail a cab. "FBPD HQ, an' make it snappy please," she asked the cabby, handing him several twentys before getting thrown back into her seat as the man floored it.

---

Doyle himself was waiting by the front door, glancing at his watch as he waited for Josibel to return. Josibel wasn't a part of the department, so he felt his interrogations could be a little more... liberal. A part of him felt guilty for playing cowboy cop, but drastic times called for drastic measures; there was no time for niceties or red tape. Doyle heard an awfully loud screeching noise outside, and peered out the window to investigate. Sure enough it was Josibel sauntering out of a taxi, clearly annoyed with the driver.

"Oh boy," he chuckled to himself.

Josibel casually strode up to the station doors, hands in her duster pockets. She pulled one of the doors open, smiling at Doyle. "Well howdy, Doyle. Fancy meetin' ye here again. What's the situation?"

"Got another goon," Doyle replied, heading towards the interrogation room again. "Stripes, not camo this time. Might be a little tougher to crack."

Uttering a chuckle, Josibel pushed her glasses up her nose. "Well that's just fine with me. I like a bit o' challenge every once in a spell. Ye got any evidence 'gainst this one?" She chose to ignore the young officer from that morning, who had been watching her hopefully.

"Yeah, he's wearin' black and red," Doyle answered as-a-matter-of-factly. "Gang affiliation. We'll nail him with somethin', for sure."

"Awright, sounds good ta me." The pair continued on in silence for a couple minutes until they'd reached the interrogation cell. Josibel opened the door, bowing slightly for Doyle to enter. "Age afore beauty, Chief," she said with a chuckle.

The Tiger, still somewhat delirious, scowled as the two policemen entered. He looked as if he was going to say something, but simply muttered "fuckin' pigs" under his breath.

Tipping her hat to the Tiger cordially, Josibel pulled a chair up to the table across from him and took a seat. "Howdy, pardner. M'name's Special Agent Morganstern, an' I'm sure yer already familiar with the Chief here. What's yer name, so's we can all be formally aquainted an' such."

All that came from the hoodlum's mouth was a growl, followed by: "I ain't gonna talk."

Josibel quirked an eyebrow before turning to Doyle. "Say, Chief. Why exactly we got this'n in custody? Multiple murder, drug trade, arms traffickin' an' such, was it?"

"You can probably throw jaywalkin' in there somewhere," he added with a slight laugh. The Tiger wasn't amused.

"Go ahead, lock me up. Beats these dumps you call streets anyways."

A mocking laugh escaped her lips as Josibel reached into her coat for her pack of cigarettes. "You mind, Chief?"

"Only if you pass me one," he remarked.

"Fair enough." Josibel pulled one of the rectangular cigarettes from her pack and lit it, then lit a second one from the burning end and passed it to the Chief. She then turned to the Tiger, her smoke hanging in the side of her mouth. "Lock-up? Lock-up's fer the tame criminals. If ye're such a bad guy, like I think ye are, that's grounds fer execution. Maybe ye c'n convince me yer not such a big bad guy, though, huh?" She leaned forward onto the table, taking a drag from her cigarette and blowing the smoke away from the table.

"Execution?" The hoodlum hurled a laugh at Josibel. "You've got nothin' on me for execution. And even if you did, I'd take that over squealing on Frostbite."

"Well lucky fer ol'...what'd ye call him? Frostbite? Lucky fer him, we ain't interested in that right now. Just one Mr. Grinder an' his guns. He's yer arms dealer, right? We wanna know where his next deal's goin' down. Squeal like a good little piggie an' maybe ye'll just get multiple life sentences instead o' the noose."

The Tiger spat on Josibel, his voice now guttural.

"Who're you calling a pig?"

Josibel froze for a moment, slowly wiping the spittle off her cheek and looking at her hand as if something incredibly insulting was written there. Like lightning, she kicked her chair backwards into the wall, grabbed hold of the edge of the table, and shoved it forward into the Tiger until she'd wedged him between it and the wall. There, she propped her foot on the edge and slowly increased the pressure, her muscles visibly bunching up under her pants.

"I...hate...spitters. I'll give ye three seconds ta appologize ta me afore I split yer punk ass in fuckin' half."

The mook glanced over at Doyle, who merely stared forward with a professional cool. Bringing his eyes back to Josibel, with more animalistic instinct than rage, he merely brought up a middle finger.

"Fuck you."

"Wrong answer." She leaned forward and kicked the table again, cracking a couple of his ribs. "Try again, punk."

"Ha! You think you can just kill me?" the goon wheezed, forcing the table back just enough to give him breathing room. "Just wait until my lawyer hears about this, pig. Maybe we can share a cell sweetheart."

Doyle took his cigarette out of his mouth and tapped Josibel on the shoulder, signaling for her to ease up.

With a disappointed sigh, Josibel let go of the table, turning her back to the Tiger and shoving her hands into her pockets to cool off. "Ye talk ta this'n for a second, Doyle." She walked over to her chair and uprighted it, plopping down to enjoy her cigarette.

"I apologize for Ms. Morganstern's outburst," Doyle began, blowing smoke. The Tiger coughed and waved the smoke away. "But you don't exactly have many bargaining chips. Those stripes you're wearin'? Might as well be terrorist insignia. The good people of this city ain't gonna stand for people like you much longer. Most would rather see you in the chair than a holdin' cell. If you ever want any chance for parole, you're gonna have to help us. Now, Grinder. Where's his next meeting takin' place?"

The mook sneered at the sentiment.

"Good people? This town ain't got no good people anymore." With a self-satisfied smirk, he continued. "Fine, my rep with the Tigers is gonna be ruined anyways. You want Grinder? He's gonna be here-"

Doyle took out his notepad and pen.