ic Fight them on the Beaches (IC)

[Supercape]

GM

 

Casualities seem thin, and minor. People stumbled out of buildings belching smoke, coughing. There were cuts and abrasions, screams of panic. Probably a broken bone or two. Some people were unconscious, or at least semi-conscious. But there the streets were not littered with brains and limbs, and blood, whilst present, was not flooding the streets. 

 

The explosives, for the most part, had caused more noise and smoke than damage. 

 

But on closer examination, one building had been hit very hard, and was on the point of collapse. People were charging out of it in a mad panic, desperate to escape the collapsing bricks and mortar. 

 

And this building was a bank. 

[Exaccus]

Facsimile wasted no time in bee lining for the bank, there had been officers on sight it was likely they had already called it in, whatever was happening at the bank was likely to be where the most trouble was and therefore where he himself should be.

 

A small glance in his wing mirror showed him his jousting opponent was in hot pursuit, though he couldn't spend much more thought on that, grasping the handlebars and bringing his bike to a skidding swerving stop he quickly copied its properties even as he leapt off.

 

Becoming a tall but gaunt armoured figure with steel handlebar horns and exhaust pipes that wrapped around his ribs and arched out from his back like stunted wings he revved the wheels in his heels to life and speeded off into the bank to look for people who were unable to extract themselves from danger.

[Tarrakhash]

Chromium paused, fascinated as the other super hero revealed himself, he had never seen one that looked like this before? They really did come in all shapes and sizes, with a thought he became liquid flowing out of the clothing and armor and stepping towards the bank his body solidifying into a solid silver shape. He prepared no weapons, he was one, and headed towards the door of the bank, it was of course a bank that was 'accidentally' targeted by a supposedly random display of anarchy...and the anarachists would just happen to have someone who preached love, lawlessness and liked a fat bank account.

 

The world was so corrupt, you couldn't even trust your 'prophets', Bedlam had taught him much and he was expecting to find at least one Knight of Anarchy arm deep in money.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The bank had people tumbling out of it, and in worse shape than elsewhere. The other explosions were merely distractions for this event, it seemed. People here had bleeding heads and broken bones. Possibly worse, inside. 

 

And inside it was dusty. One could barely see, and barely breathe (if, of course, one needed to breathe). Masonry was falling from the walls and ceiling at alarming speed, and the very building creaked and groaned. 

 

It would surely be minutes, maybe seconds, before the entire building collapsed. 

 

On the floor, Chromium and Fascimile could see five people on the ground, either moving very little, or not moving at all...

[Exaccus]

His wheels still whirring in his heels he slid across the debris strewn floor of the bank towards the injured, using his somewhat enhanced strength to free them from rubble as best he could and trying to stabilize them, the glint of silver caught his eye and he turned to face his now transformed companion.

 

"Not a lot of time!" He blurted out in a slight, controlled panic as the roof began to crumble further inwards.

 

"Help me drag them out once I've got em stable! Or hold up the roof if that's your thing! Talk after!" And with that he focused his attentions fully onto the prone forms of those before him, doing what he could in lieu of paramedics and proper equipment for the job.

[Supercape]

GM

 

Fascimile could tell that none of the unconscious victims of the explosion were dead. Or even dying - at least not in the next minute or two. Broken bones, bloodied noses, but nothing a bit of hospital care couldn't put right - or at least almost right. 

 

That didn't mean they were out of danger, not by any means. Masonry was falling all around them. Splintered glass fell everywhere. Crunching sounds above indicated the top floors were collapsing in on themselves. They had seconds. 

 

And the dust was so bad it was getting hard to breathe. 

[Tarrakhash]

Seeing that someone who perhaps knew about keeping people alive was looking at the people the silver man gazed at the building, it looked like it could come down at any moment. Growling he knew that he wasn't strong enough to handle this normally, reaching deep into his inner reserves he knew that his density was more than just compacted metal, no it was a powerful cybernetic nano-machines that used to be the cells of his body. If he could spread them out a bit and spin the little dynamo's like when they normally strengthed him more than normal he might be able to pull this off!

 

Gold and silver energy crackled over his body as it expanded, his legs and arms getting longer and longer but not losing any of their definition, in fact his entire body seemed to bulk with more and more muscles as he pushed his body to the limit with a groan. Grabbing some exposed steel I-beams that held the building up he braced his now almost 25 foot long arms against the roof, massively muscled shoulders shoring up the building as he growled to the motor bike man,"Get them out of here...not sure how long I can hold the building up..."

[Exaccus]

"right you are!" Facsimile shouted back as he stooped to scoop up the furthest from the exit and with his wheels screeching raced them out of the building and onto the sidewalk out Infront of the bank.

 

Racing back in for the next and the next as the building continued to creak and crumble over his head.

 

His fear sharpening his focus to a razor's edge and keeping him from locking up.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The building was crumbling around Chromiums arms, but it held. He could hear sounds of tinkling glass and groaning walls above him. He could even feel the tremors through his arms. And yet, the building remained upright. For now. 

 

Fascimile, fueled with the power of...well...fuel....and thus possessed of amazing speed, zipped in and out of the building, dodging the occassional falling brick. As he transported the casualties out of the building, he noted two things. 

 

Firstly, the prospect of a crumbling bank was an interesting one to a group of anarchists. Nothing seemed to be happening, not yet. And certainly nothing was planned. But there was a murmur of discussion. Was this the prize? Money for all?

 

The idea had been sown. Many were contemplating how they could get there hands on the money. A few were stepping beyond contemplation. 

 

But not Sir Prize. He was on his motorcycle, tearing up the beach, northwards. 

[Tarrakhash]

Chromium walked out, seeing the mass of people gathering towards the bank he growled,"They don't even know how dangerous the building is? Someone is going to be getting hurt if we don't do something." Turning he moved towards the crowd, his hand reshaping into a massive hammer, energy crackling around it's spiked head as he made himself look as intimidating as possible before he growled loudly,"Move off, people this building is near collapse. We don't want anyone hurt...least of all you, now maybe you should follow your Sir Prize? He seems to be leaving, shouldn't you?"

[Supercape]

GM

 

The Knights seemed to at least pause in their thinking. Robbing a bank was all very well. All very anarchy. And the prospect of free money, the disinhibition of alcohol and adrenaline. That all added up to a heady, attractive brew. 

 

But a silver man waving a power hammer around was another matter. They liked hammers. And they dislike having a hammer in their face. 

 

Some cheered. It was, after all, pretty cool. 

 

Sir Prize didn't. He was tearing down the beach in a flurry of sand, under the starlight, and didn't look back. 

 

The wail of sirens could be heard. The emergency services were kicking into gear. 

 

And....

 

Boom. 

 

Far of to the north. Another explosion, or possibly explosions, could be heard!

 

The direction Sir Prize was tearing towards!

Edited March 25, 2019 by Supercape

[Exaccus]

"this was a distraction..." Facsimile spoke aloud agasp and horrified by the mere idea of bombing a place to distract away from another bombing, his engine revved furiously in his chest like the quickening of a heartbeat as he looked towards the silver man and tried to formulate some kind of plan, some idea where everything was going to work out for the best for everyone.

 

One where sir prize held his next court in Blackstone.

 

"I think I can handle these guys....I'll hold down the fort whilst you go nab sir prize? Come after you as soon as the police arrive." He whispered, it seemed like a mistake to divide their forces but it was the only way to contest both acts at once.

[Tarrakhash]

Chromium nodded, deciding he had little choice but to trust the bike warrior who had saved the injured people.  Taking  a couple of large steps he dived at the pavement transforming into a silver Porsche a moment later his wheels skidding as he took off in a cloud of tire smoke and a screech of tires. Moments later he was tearing down the highway at high speeds heading after Sir Prize and towards the next explosion.

Edited March 26, 2019 by Tarrakhash

[Supercape]

GM

 

The dirt and sand kicked up beneath Chromium's wheels. The odd stone and pebble chipped away, clanking against the undercarriage harmlessly but creating an unnerving sound. He kept speed, in principle, with Sir Prize whose motorbike was no faster, no slower. 

 

But it was trecheaous. The wind and waves blew in, sometimes meaning Chromium (and Sir Prize) were driving through the wake of waves, and the beach was uneven, going up and down. And driving on wet sand was not ideal. 

 

Still, at this breakneck speed, Chromium could see ahead, to the real explosion. 

 

All else had been a distraction. 

 

It was a research station, to the North of Freedom City. Neutron Industries. And the building was smoking and cracked...

[Exaccus]

Even though the immediate danger had passed with the knights fleeing and dispersing away from the bank to avoid run ins with the emergency services Alex maintained his watch over the downed citizens that had caught the blast more fully than others, both to ensure they remained stable and to relay what he had gathered from his undercover investigation of the knights which wasn't that much to be fair.

 

Still it was prudent to maintain a healthy and respectful working relationship with the Police.

[Supercape]

GM

 

As the race between Sir Prize and Chromium headed northwards towards the wreckage of Neutron Laboratories, Freedom City services scrambled to cope with the one-two punch. 

 

It had been an effective plan. The chaos of the first round of explosions had snarled the streets up, and the fire and ambulance services were caught up - reaching the last explosion, at Neutron Laboratories would be a sluggish process. 

 

The police had scrambled too, but faced the same problem. The two cops who had been observing the Knight of Anarchy were first on the scene. 

 

"What happened?" they said to Facimile. They both looked rather out of their depth. It did not help have a drunk crowd of anarchists jeering and jostling around the bank, some of them still desciding whether to try their luck sifting through the rubble for cash. 

 

"Welcome to hell" muttered one of the cops, not without justification. "Everyones snarled up responding. Its chaos!"

[Exaccus]

"from what I can piece together, these guys are a distraction." Facsimile responded as he gestured towards the remaining anarchists.

 

"Their boss set this whole thing up to keep his tracks covered, zoomed off in that direction." He pointed towards the way chromium and Sir Prize had headed off in.

 

"Riots, chaos and all that, one of my co-workers headed off after the guy, I stuck around to help out here and touch base with you, I'll follow up after." He explained before addressing the crowd.

 

"You losers had best buzz off! It's been a long night and I don't need much of an excuse!" He roared, gasoline fueled flames pouring from his angular metallic mouth as if to accent his displeasure as he tore the remains of the chain mail still clinging to his form free like tatters of tissue.

[Supercape]

GM

 

The red haired policeman who seemed to be leading the chaos scratched his head. "Sheesh. I'm missing mny niece's birthday for this?"

 

He was bitter about his luck, and frightened about his situation. 

 

The Knights of Anarchy jeered. Fascimile had been the hero of the joust, which gave him much sway, but his tone was cashing serious cheques with that goodwill. One or two of them even spat at him. just not too close. 

 

But for now, the tense standoff held. If nothing else, the half-collapsed bank didn't look like it could offer much but a piece of falling masonry causing severe cranial injury. 

 

"We got reports of another explosion" said the red haired cop. "Neutron Industries. Except we are so caught up in this one, we are stretched super thin..."

[Tarrakhash]

Chromium was many things, fast was certainly one of them and it wasn't too long before a silver Porsche crested the dune, looking down on Neutron Industries and careened down the dune spitting up sand from his spinning tires as he closed on Neutron industries, ready to find out what was going on at this obviously very elaborately planned set of events.

 

Knights of Anarchy his shiny silver behind, this was a well planned strike made to keep the police off balance and take advantage of the choked streets of the city, even if it meant more lives were in danger. That said Chromium had arrived and he would see what he could do to resolve this problem himself.

[Exaccus]

Oh right these folks were hard heads, he'd all but forgotten the man who had been willing to dash himself on a living brick wall.

 

Let's try something else then

 

"I speak out of turn in my indignation! I humbly apologize, for I am disgusted by what I have witnessed!"

 

He began slipping back into his knightly persona a little less deeply than earlier.

 

"Sir prize set you folks up, you're his distraction whilst he takes a prize for himself!" Facsimile blurted out plainly and heavily leaning on his contempt "a man like that is no knight! It is a brigand and a blackguard, nay a thuggish nere do well, who sells his men's freedom and well being for greater personal gain! Do not fall on your swords for such a cur! I emplore thee!"

 

Before turning back to the red headed cop "pretty sure that's where my back up is headed, I'll follow suit after this mob breaks up."

[Supercape]

GM

 

At Neutron Industries...

 

Or what remained of it. The explosion had been both contained and masterful - just the right amount and just the right point. Sir Prize had pulled up beside the rubble and remains, the smoke and dust, and tore of his helmet. He was a man in his fourties, strong and scarred, determined, ferocious and joyous. He loved this. In a bitter, furious way. 

 

 

Waiting him for him was shaven headed woman dressed in anarchronistic steampunk wear, and set of tools by her belt. 

 

"I bid you good day, Lady Key!" bowed Sir Prize. 

 

"Yeah" muttered Lady Key. "You can knock that speech on its head, you know. No need to put on a show" she said, glinting hey eyes, full of rapture at the mess. She had a slightly odd English accent. 

 

"And you have company" she noted, pointing to the Silver Porche pulling up by them!

 

Meanwhile, back at the Bank...

 

Slipping into his regal accent, Fascimile certainly bought himself more goodwill. The reaction, however, was variable. One could hardly expect a group of anarchists to agree. Quite the reverse, in fact. And yet, the response, overall, was generous. A few hurrahs, a few thumbs up, and a couple of drunk ladies staggering up to him offering beer and kisses (and preferably both). It seemed that they were on his side. There was certainly some muttering of discontent about Sir Prize, but they were not ready to give up their loyalty to the Sultan of Anarchy quite yet! 

[Tarrakhash]

The Porsche didn't stick around long morphing into Chromium's silver body the hero looked over at the wreckage of Norton Industries and then back at the pair,"Many people were injured, buildings were damaged and destroyed, people may be dying...and for what? What is it you want in there Sir Prize?"

 

He glanced at the woman with her strange accent and frowned,"And you're not from around here? What do you want in all of this?"

[Supercape]

GM

 

"ANARCHY!" roared a most pleased-with-himself Sir Prize. He did not swing his spiked mace, but he certainly gripped it hard. 

 

The lady was more subdued, more considered, and frankly more smart. She was bald headed and crazily dressed, and her scars showed a reckless or hard life. Maybe both. 

 

"I've tried to play by the rules, sweetheart" she said, more quietly but still brimming with confidence and determination. "But the rules dont work for everyone. Not here, and not where I grew up" she said. 

 

Perhaps there was a slight Indian accent? She had a certain hue to her skin that didn't look completely caucasian. 

 

"Blowing things up has always been a hobby, a skill, or mine. And when I learned about how this company operates, I decided that justice needed more than laws" she explained. 

 

"The song of every anarchist!" agreed Sir Prize, impressed with her eloquence. "Laws hinder the man! They are the cowards way of cruelty! And now! Look what we have achieved! No more radiatoactive pollution! No dangerous experiments! The world breathes free! Thanks to ANARCHY!"

 

He bowed to Lady Key. 

 

"Thanks to our Lady Annie! Lady ANNIE KEY!"

[Exaccus]

"then let us ride!" Facsimile roared as the engine in his chest sparked to life and the wheels in his heels revved and screeched against the tarmac in place.

 

"Let's see what Sir prize has to say for himself when challenged!"

[Supercape]

GM

 

Verily, did Fascimile roar down the beach, kicking up sand, spraying sea water, and feeling the wind in his hair (if he had any hair in this form - for if not, his imaginary hair would rustle and blow in an imagintive way!)

 

And verily, yes, a goodly proportion of the Knights of Anarchy did follow, perhaps not as fast, but fast enough. Some elected to stay, either due to consideration of the money that might yet be salvaged from the rubble of the bank, or perhaps because they were locking lips with some fellow or lady. Or in a few cases, because they fancied their chances of such amouous activity. And still a few others elected to stay because they were too busy falling down and busting their nose or cheek thanks to an excess of alcohol. There were in fact several who made no choice at all, for they were sleeping off the booze. 

 

"ANARCHY! FIGHT! ANARCHY! FI-IGHT!" they chanted as they tore down the beach. 

 

"What ho! What do I hear? A call to arms?" muttered Sir Prize, not displeased with the sound and vision that approached from the south.