Coffee Shop Blues (IC)

[Quinn]

"Heh, eh..heheh...yeah. Haven't...uh...haven't had a chance to just relax and enjoy myself for a...well, a long time."

He looked at the picture briefly, giving a small smile.

"Let's just say I've had a lot to deal with over the last few years. Thank you for today, I do appreciate it."

Easy, boy. Don't get all mushy on me, all that leads to is trouble, especially where women are involved. Just keep smilin', and don't do anything stupid.

Quinn idly flipped through his own pictures, taken from the feature on his PDA, until he reached a rather humorous one of him and Elizabeth in front of the Coliseum. He'd actually managed to get her with the "bunny ears" on that one.

"'s amazing what those old-school architects could build, aye? The statues just seem so lifelike."

[Sandman XI]

While Elizabeth and Quinn were caught up in the memories, they had no idea they were being watched. And not just then, but almost all the time they had been in Rome! As soon as Elizabeth arrived in Rome there was a minor shift in the divine balance. This caused the Roman deities to stir. Though they were not allowed on the mortal plane, they did claim that area as their own protectorate. If any other deities stepped on it, they would know full well their wrath. When they saw the deity was Greek-blooded, they saw it as a challenge. They warned their mortal agents to keep an eye on the interloper. The mortal agents had a grand idea! After a long day of following the tourists, a man approached the two straight from the shadows! He smiled and spoke in disjointed Greek. "" he said with almost sinister joy, pointing to Elizabeth, "" the man smirked. They all seemed to be ignoring Quinn for some reason.

[Sandman XI]

Elizabeth was confused at the man's intrusion. She happened to know Greek and could tell that he was a novice at the language. She tried to speak up as he was talking, but she was quickly grabbed. She fought, kicking and screaming, but no one seemed to hear her except Quinn and the men. "Put me down," she yelled in Greek, Italian and English. She struggled against them, but there was no escape. "Quinn," she yelled, "help!"

[Quinn]

Quinn seized the first man's wrist, giving him a look that spoke volumes.

"Oi. Don't know what you're saying, s'all Greek to me, and I sure as hell don't know if you speak English. But I'm quite sure you'll get this."

He clenched his hand, sneaking a bit of kinetic energy into the squeeze. Not that much, but for about ten seconds the man felt like his wrist was in an iron vise.

"Let. Go."

Great. Four thugs, no hammer, costume's still in the bag, and she's standing right in front of me. Damn your eyes, Scratch!

[Sandman XI]

One of the thugs handling Elizabeth stopped. It was like the shock spoke to him. He didn't know English, but the sentiment was very clear. This guy was one of those 'superheroes' he heard about all the time on the international news about America. Could he be from Freedom City even? The cultist's heart sank. He didn't stop, but he felt bad taking away from what they considered 'the good guys'. He wrested his hand away. "" With that the four men and the leader ran away with Elizabeth in tow, her still calling for help and no one seeming to notice.

[Quinn]

Quinn sighed and shook his head.

Well, I'm already all in with a pair of twos and nothing on the river, so...might as well play out the hand.

Rolling his eyes at the metaphors, he kicked the kinetic jets in gear, taking off and sweeping around the thugs before hovering in front of them and wiggling his finger...but with a very saddened face.

"Hey, Eliza? Remember when I said that all I could do was that little spark? Well..."

He lifted up his hand, pointing at one of the cultists, the air over his hand warping and crackling as kinetic energy far beyond the minor spark that had passed from his hand to her started to gather, forming an orb in his palm that was pointing towards one of the four holding her. It grew progessively larger. And larger. And larger. He shook his head...

"I lied."

And fired.

[Sandman XI]

The man crumpled under a speeding bullet of kinetic energy! Muse was very thankful that he had lied, but she still couldn't get away from the cultist's grip! She had one free leg to kick them now, thanks to Quinn's little white lie. Not that it helped any. These guys seemed really thick. It actually hurt to kick them! "Very good, Quinn," she shouted while struggling, "Now keep shooting!"

[Quinn]

Well, cat's out of the bag now. Frak it, these bastards are about to get a taste of why you don't kidnap a lady in front of me!

"If the lady says so!"

He threw his arms apart, eyes flashing as the air surrounding him warped and crackled. Smaller orbs appeared over his hands...then a couple more...then a couple more...then a HELL of a lot more. Within seconds he was surrounded by dozens of the smaller warps, crackling and floating as they hung in the air.

"Kidnapping scum...let me show you how we dealt with your kind back in Gear City!"

Push shot an arm forward, the dozens of kinetic blasts flying forward and slamming into the kidnappers, each with bone-cracking force. The sadness had vanished now, replaced with an expression that could only be charitably described as 'severely hacked off'.

"My advice? Stay the frak down."

[Sandman XI]

The cultists tried to run away from the angry kineticist, but found that their hasty retreat was met by bolts of retribution! Only their leader was left standing. He looked angry. "" he said angrily in his native Italian, shaking his fist at Quinn, "" He touched Elizabeth's forehead and muttered a magical incantation. They both disappeared. All that was left was Quinn and the downed cultists.

[Quinn]

"HEY!"

A bolt of force flew through the space where the cultist had stood a split second before, and Quinn (Damnit, Push!) cursed a blue streak.

"Bloody %@#!^ hobo pieces of #@^% on @#%% with #@%* !@+%! !%&*@"%, I'll @#)%_% their !%)#)@ and !%U*!$_ the !%##@!) outta !*%)# #!%)!@*%) !)*%# WITH A FONDUE FORK!"

He ducked into a nearby alley, doing a quick-change and coming out in full gear, eyes blazing. Tuque, gloves, longcoat, and scarf, the only thing missing was the hammer he usually slung on his back, but at this point, he didn't really care. Warps and crackles in the air surrounded him as he strode over and kneeled down besides one of the supine cultists, giving him a ringing slap on the cheek.

"Oi! Wakey, wakey! You and I are gonna have words."

[Sandman XI]

The cultist was pretty much out of it, though the jolt woke him up some. Looming over him was an angry sparkling man! The cultist was sore afraid! He tried to speak but the first few sentences were scared unrecognizable gibberish. The last two sentence were understandable enough. "" he yelled in his native tongue, "

[Quinn]

Push held up his hand, a look of faux concern on his face.

"Hey, you alright? Christ, thought you were dead there for a bit."

The crackles vanished, and he muffled his voice as best he could under the scarf to distort it. His Italian was very poor, but he'd picked up a few things with Muse, enough to get by...he hoped.

"The boss sent me to check up on you lot after that American took you all out. Thank God I made it in time, he looked about ready to tear your head off! Sorry for the rude awakening, but shaking wasn't working...you okay?"

[Sandman XI]

The man shook himself and looked at Push. He didn't think that this guy looked anything like part of their group. Maybe he was a new guy? The cultist pulled himself up. He thought about asking for the secret handshake, but this guy didn't even greet him with the customary greeting. "" He spat on the ground in disgust. "" He smiled, looking out at his thoughts. ""

[Quinn]

Granted, Push didn't know much Italian, but what he could gleam....reeeeeeally didn't sound good. He kept his face straight, clenching a fist behind his back.

Note to self. Next time, bring translation book.

"Heh, I'm from out of town, just got the word something major was going down. Big H, huh...hold up. Child of the Greek deities? Like...Olympus deities? Zeus, Posiedon, Hades? Seriously?"

Push's brain was working overtime. He knew the basics of Greek myth from high school, gods and goddesses and great heroes...Hercules was one name that stood out, some overmuscled guy with a tendency to get screwed over by his in-laws. One thing he did vividly remember was the "hero" slaughtering his way through several different types of monsters and fighting armies single-handed. And his new friend was about to be...

Oh, bugger.

"Well...er...no time to waste then, aye? Want to be there for the show, am I right, yeah, yeah? Heh, heh...err...where's this ritual happening again?"

[Sandman XI]

"" the cultist said said quickly. He looked around to see if anyone was watch. Fortunately their guise was still up. He beckoned Push with two fingers, "" The man dipped further into the dark alley. He did not speak much, but it did seem like forever. When they got to the meeting place it was huge! There was no way someone could miss this, and yet, no one paid attention. It was a palatial white marble building that seemed to glow. When they got to the door he knocked three times and said some indecipherable phrase. It sounded... Latin? The door opened and there was a massive lobby. It was bright as day in there. Barely dressed women were playing harps as they entered, There were rooms off to the side where it sounded like all sorts of debaucheries were going on. Past the lobby was a hallway to a throne room. Push couldn't see it very well. Though he did see a man in a toga come racing from it. "" he said joyfully. He then looked to Push with a scowl and a sniff. He smiled wickedly, "" Antonius smiled wickedly at Push, "" Sirus stripped down and was handed a toga, which he put on. Antonius nodded, "Sirus, Great Hercules wants the Greek filth washed before he does the offering.> He looked to Push, "" The harp players walked Push to the exit as Sirus and Antonius walked away talking.

[Quinn]

Push's head was whirling as he walked outside, looking at the building with a raised eyebrow. He barely understood a word of what was being said earlier, but he definitley got the gist of it...that poor girl. He moved quietly off down another alleyway, as a wolvish smile crossed his mouth. He'd be able to watch, huh? Well...if they wanted a show, he'd sure as hell give it to them.

"Speakers...some flashbangs...oh yeah, these jerks won't know what hit them!"

And he launched himself into the air with a laugh, eyes scanning the skyline for an electronics store and a hardware store...

[Sandman XI]

Elizabeth had been knocked out when she was transported away. She was in a dream for most of the time. Definitely not her dream though. She dreamed of a green open field, full of grapes of all kinds and sizes. Though, she felt thirsty. She saw a guy, he looked to be in his early twenties. Even though he didn't speak, she knew this was his field and that he would let her have some grapes. She nodded a thanks. When she picked one it grew to the size of her hand! She looked shocked but instinctively she ate the grape. The grape made her dizzy, but it quenched her thirst. She wanted more. The guy didn't seem to mind so she picked more and ate more. The more she downed the better and more dizzy she felt. This was the greatest dream ever! Unfortunately her dream came to a crashing halt when she was dumped into a tub of warm water. She found that she could not fly or access her powers. She tried to struggle against them but it was useless. Several men in togas rubbed her down with soap and scented oils, making sure that their lord was appeased. When they were done with her, her ankles, wrists and neck were bound in golden shackles and they put a gauzy white dress on her. The chain was given to the leader who guided her into the throne room. Well, it wasn't really a throne. more one of those bed/chairs you lounge on. Lounging on it was a very large man in a toga. Was this Hercules? He was massive! The leader lead her in front of the 'throne' and yanked the chain down. making her involuntarily kneel. "" Hercules smiled at the sight. He had slaughtered many a beast, but never one so beautiful. "Leave us be." The leader nodded and handed the chain to Hercules, "" with that the leader left. Hercules looked to Elizabeth with a smile. She did not smile however. "So this is one of the Olympians," He said sitting up while playing with the chain. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she snarled back at the Physical God. "Do not lie to me, girl," he said pulling the chain closer. "Just as you feel the divine warmth flowing from me, I feel yours. Yours is not like my own though. You come from a different family though. A family we set boundaries with." "My family is not divine. My family is at home. I take care of them. I have no idea what you are talking about." "Silence, deceptive wench! I will prove I can see through your lies. You are the seed of the one they call Dionysus. You are obviously half mortal though. Mortal taint aside, your lineage calls out to me." He smiled sinisterly, yanking her chain forward. "Now, lights out." She tried to protest but was quickly subdued by Hercules's massive fist. She was knocked out again and the chains remained. He called for the altar. It was gleaming white, but on the top of it was a crimson stain. "Many lesser people have been offered here," Hercules said to himself as the cultists prepared it and her for the ritual. Hercules was handed a large sword, "Do not think your offering will be in vain." He twirled the sword a few times before embedding it into the ground. "" the leader called to his lord. "Excellent. Bring in the initiates. It is time." She was laid on the altar. in preparation for all to see.

[Quinn]

Push snarled as he moved away from the door to the throne room, suppressing the urge to fire a shot clear into that...that...overmuscled thug's head. Big Grecian hero, huh...that Disney movie had it right, Jerk-ules was more apt. He tugged slightly at the white robe he'd purchased to match the other initiates, except with one change. A large hood covered his head, and the ends of his longcoat just hung under the bottom of the voluminous piece of clothing. He'd only just returned, having made a few...interesting pick-ups while out in the city, moving swiftly so he would arrive on time. Five battery-powered, wireless speakers, connected to his commlink. Three flashbang packs, set to a detonator hidden in one of his pockets.

"If only I had my hammer...alright...showtime."

When "Great Hercules" called for the initiates, he pulled the hood over his head and the scarf up underneath it to cover his features, filing in with the rest. The small army of cultists formed a mob in front of the altar, cheering the big demigod as he placed Elizabeth on the altar, and Push used that as a cover...he slipped in and around the columns on either side of the room, keeping out of sight, while dropping the small speakers in dark corners and turning them on. Once all five were spread around the side-walls, he moved back into the crowd, quietly stepping into the middle of it and hiding within the throng.

Think you're a big man, Herc? Your little circus act is about to find out why you don't kidnap a Freedom City citizen in front of a hero!

[Sandman XI]

Hercules waited for the initiates to enter. One was oddly dressed. He took it that this one was the out of towner his inner circle had been telling him about. The initiates lined the wall while the inner circle stood in a circular pattern around Hercules and the altar. Hercules began to speak, but it was in Latin. Something Push couldn't understand. "" He pointed his sword around to the initiates, "" He put the side of the blade on his shoulder. "" He raised his sword into the air and the initiates cheered! He then stood over the altar. Over the sacrifice. As he raised the blade, he began to chant in a language only the inner council could understand. Only gods could understand.

[Quinn]

Showtime.

The chant rose in tempo, the air fairly humming in anticipation as the blade started to lower...then a jarring sound erupted from all sides of the room.

The sound of an air-raid siren. A shrill screech from all sides, the sounds of automatic weapons fire, blasts and explosions in the distance...then a sudden jam of electric guitars. Heavy metal music, earsplitting in the throne room, blared all around the clustered evildoers, and Push smiled underneath his scarf.

"I'll have you know, that I become....INDESTRUCTIBLE!"

Push moved with the crowd as they looked in all directions, keeping his head down and muttering under his breath into his commlink. His voice came out cold and clear, echoing in the chamber as it flowed from the hidden speakers.

"So sorry, were you doing something important there? It was just so boring, I had to spice it up a bit!"

[Sandman XI]

Hercules was not pleased when his graceful swing tempo was thrown off. He looked around with a scowl. "Find the source of that racket and bring it to me," his voice boomed. It seemed louder than the music playing. Everyone could hear it and understand it perfectly. "The one who finds the interloper will have the first taste." Hercules went back to his throne and his inner circle followed. Three to the left of him three to the right. The initiates however were in a tizzy trying to find the source of the noise, even tearing at each other to find it. Several were stripped bare in order to find what was not on their body. The choices were getting fewer.

[Quinn]

"Aww, what's wrong, Jerk-ules? Don't like heavy metal?"

Push spun a few cultists around himself, patting them down and moving on to the next. A wide grin spread underneath his scarf, as, subtly, he moved through the crowd, getting closer towards the altar while still remaining somewhat anonymous.

"Love the decor here. Bit over-the-top though, reminds me of this small-time band of miscreants I beat the stuffing out of back in Freedom City. Now, they weren't all that bright, I'll give you that, but they never tried kidnapping a heroine right off the streets. Let me guess, Herc, can I call you Herc? You can't get a girl on your own, so you start kidnapping them? Now, I know the whole musclebound airheaded jock thing isn't really that popular nowadays, but have you tried online dating? I hear that works wonders."

He was getting nearer to the altar...the music rising in tempo as his snark stepped up...

[Sandman XI]

Elizabeth found herself in that field again. She was dressed in the ritual garb this time. She reckoned that if this was her dream that she would be able to change it. Lucid dreaming and all that jazz. Her clothing did not change. She knew something was up.

A loud booming voice greeted her after the little though exercise. "Elizabeth Skillman. You are in my realm."

Elizabeth looked around the field to see no one there. "Who are you," she yelled into the sky.

The voice shifted to that of deep and breathy, "Elizabeth, I am your father!"

Oh great, she thought, a comedian.

"A comedian, indeed," the voice chuckled, this time it was like her own.

"You can read my mind," she said flat and unamused.

"Read it," the voice laughed with a rhetorical question, "honey, I'm swimming in it. By the way, your subconscious is very weird, but creative. Be glad we didn't meet in your dreams. That little dark comedic interlude would have been awkward to meet your father on."

"You don't sound like my father," she crossed her arms with an accusatory tone, "Show yourself."

The voice however, was quite amused, "Sure, let me find something you'd be comfortable with." Before her appeared a large muscular man in a colorful sarong with no top. His skin was golden tan like hers. His hair was long and flowing and his beard was short, it was all white. His eyes were silver like hers. His voice was that of something like a sage, but a sly sage, "So, you're looking for a mentor?" He chuckled.

[Sandman XI]

Hercules was not amused. He scowled as he sat on his throne. His voice still boomed over the noise where everyone could hear and understand. "Petty mortal, you think this is for companionship? This filthy mongrel? She's not even fully divine. Even if she was she has the blood of an Olympian." He spat on the sword in front of him, "Dogs. All of them." His voice grew happy in his anger. "Now let's make this interesting." He stood up. "STOP!" The madhouse of initiates stopped. "KNEEL!" Every one of the initiates bowed. Taking his sword he walked toward the altar.

[Quinn]

Push watched as the initiates surrounding him dropped to their knees, leaving him the only one standing. He looked left, then right, at the small sea of heads, then up at the smug puss of that overmuscled jerk. The hero spoke from under the hood, this time his voice coming from just him, and the music stopped.

"Aww, no more? I was just about to start in on your daddy issues."

Reaching down, he seized the fabric of his disguise, and with a flourish, swept it up and over his head, flinging the disguise into the air. The Kinetic King stood in his full costume in the centre of the crowd, his coat and scarf billowing, rough wool cap over the top of his head, eyes smiling. He spread his arms wide, palms facing upwards, as he grinned defiantly at the demigod standing over the supine heroine.

"But where are my manners? Let me introduce myself!"

And, faster than you could blink, his hands whipped down, palms facing outwards, and a massive shockwave of kinetic force spread outwards from his body, slamming into the cultists surrounding him and scattering them like leaves in a wind. Bodies flew through the air, slamming into columns, the walls, the floor...and stayed down.

"Call me Push. Now you going to give my friend back, or does this have to get ugly?"