The Fourth Freedom(IC)

[Max]

Tenebrous listened to the explanation and smiled when King of Suits gave her a little inkling that this guy would be put away for a very long time. It was a futile hope. Lilian just didn't see the career criminal mindset. Yeah, she was sort of one, but she was more a kid with power acting out and getting what she wanted. Was this what these career criminals were doing? Turning their selfish desires into focused thoughts? Making a living out of it? She tried that once. It was not for her. All those men dead, she thought with a sigh and pulled back her hair again.

Tenebrous listened to the skinhead speak. She smirked as hope shine across his face. She floated over to him, and patted him on the head. "You have attempted murder with eleven other men," she said looking him directly in the eye, her voice half comforting and half informatively stern, "I do not know how American justice system works, but if you serve time and be on good behavior." She sighed more frustrated than not, "Listen I would love to sit here and pick your brain but apparently your Super Hater is on the loose. We talk about this later?" She looked over to Crow and King of Suits, "We have direction now!"

[Quinn]

Crow politely turned the man so he could face Tene-err-Lilian, then turned him back around and set him back down on his feet. Even dusted him off. Nice. Gentle. The black-clad man seemed like he was finished with the interrogation. No muss, no fuss. Though it became plain he was done with the interrogation when that metal plate on the knuckles of his black gloves shot forward and impacted on the man's nose with a sickening crunch.

As the thug hit the ground with his eyes rolling back, Crow spun and faced the remaining Crusaders with a freezing-cold look on the face below the mask; black iron filling their vision. "Police are coming. Once they are done, you either leave town, or stay quiet. Either way, we never see you again."

A slow moment of turning to face each of them. He didn't say what would happen if they did, didn't make any threats, implications, or anything that could be remotely considered to contain malice or anger. Just flat, cold words. "Understand?"

Channel the angry Headmaster. Remember what Archer's like when he's ready to blow. Myrmidon's perfect cold. Wisp's posture. Tie it all together. Be Crow. Be scary. Be terrifying. Make sure these men never hurt anyone again.

[Ari]

"Yes, we have a direction now. If you would be so kind, Tenebrous, lead on to-oh!" the King of Suits was interrupted briefly by the sudden outburst of precisely-applied violence from Crow against the Crusader, watching with mingled admiration and sorrow at the fury the boy seemed to hold within himself. 'The poor lad! I'll have to find out what made him this way' he thought sadly, glancing at Frank bleeding from his nose on the asphalt. When he was done cowing the Crusaders, Marceau stepped forward, carrying their impromptu informant back into the larger group of would-be killers, all of whom hurriedly looked away as he got close to them.

With Frank deposited he turned to Tenebrous and Crow "As I was saying, Tenebrous, lead on to Blanche Heights!" he called over his shoulder to Farridah "Mr. Sallhid, please keep a close watch on these men for us." With that he drew his grapple gun, ready to follow where the glowing black entropy-wielder led.

[Ari]

GM

The police arrived shortly, and needed only the bare minimum of explanation for what had happened before warmly thanking Tenebrous and Crow for their efforts in capturing the Crusaders, hauling them off to jail in preparation for their further punishment under the law, Farridah going along as a witness.

It was a short trip to the apartments, a quick jaunt over a few back-alleys seedy enough to give even some criminals pause before walking down them, across a courtyard reeking with garbage left there for years slowly mouldering to nothing.

The tenement building was a surprisingly prominent fixture in the Fens part of the skyline, an ornate wire sign bearing the name 'Blanche Heights' with neon tubes winding around it, lighting it up in blazing green that could be seen for miles around. It was, however, infrequently used and visited in the modern day, its heyday(such as it was) in the 1940s long past. It stood in all its rambling, towering iron-grey brick glory under the clouded Moon, with faded white paint peeling off of the sheltered corners. Most of the barred windows' lights were off, though the upper floors were always at least somewhat in use, the raucous noises of some kind of party in there filtering out as a mess of undifferentiated sound of blaring music and vague laughter. From their vantage point above it, the three could make out several men standing under the decayed awning that clung over the door in a punctured mess, watching the streets with a casually dismissive attitude.

No people were standing around in the alley behind the building, just as Frank had said there would be.

[Quinn]

Crow's eyes narrowed at the building under the mask, and he marked each man on the outside. Alleyway was clear - sloppy, very sloppy. Then again, he hadn't exactly heard glorious things about White Knight's intelligence, so that probably wasn't that surprising. Hrm.

Okay, door was where it was supposed to be - that just left the two entrances in the lobby and going down to utilities. Utilities was probably a dead end, unless there was a sewer entrance down there - and if any of them could make it through that reek, he wished them well of it. So focus on the two they could control - lobby and alleyway. Needed to block that route...set an ambush. Close quarters was good, but Knight was hell on wheels with high explosives - and fighting in a wrecked building like that it was just begging for disaster. Open space he could fly, but they had a counter for that. The mouth below the mask curled upwards in a tiny smile.

Yeah. He had a plan.

"King - we'll need an ambush point up here in the alley; tricks and traps, think we can manage it? Tenebrous - you need to be scary. Major league scary. As in pants-wetting flee in terror scary. We'll go in spooky through the lobby, drive them up the alley exit and into the knockout-zone, I port out and up, King and I'll nail them from above while you unload from behind." His arms made economic gestures to the various points - sketching out in words what was visualized in his mind. "Right...we have to make sure Knight ends up outside of the building before we hit them - he flames on, that place'll go up like a Roman candle. T, once he's outside and takes to the air, he's all yours. Thoughts?"

[Max]

When Crow started planning the drop, she nodded. "Scary, huh," she questioned rhetorically, "I think I can do that." She looked around, being quiet for a moment and then letting our a loud scream while flailing her arms. Crow and King of Suits couldn't have been impressed by that. She snickered, "OK OK, I will be serious now." Focusing inward she tapped into her dark powers. Her black outline engulfed her wholly until she was nothing more than a large black blob of darkness with silver eyes that seemed to be focusing on anyone who looked at it. "Avert your eyes for I am fear incarnate. The ender of all things." This was bound to be scary!

[Quinn]

...well, Crow could at least say the appearance was scary...the problem was the voice. And the posture. And...okay, maybe this wasn't the best idea. Blast, he shouldn'tve made the assumption of...that based on the similarity between her and Glowstar's blasts. Okay, new plan. Uh...not good.

"Not bad - could use a bit of work." He hedged. Didn't exactly say what kind, or they'd have been there all day! "But...better idea...uh..." Think fast, real fast, real real fast.

He didn't think fast enough.

[Ari]

"Well..it isn't the least frightening thing I have ever beheld" the King of Suits declared mildly "That looks bound to scare at least some of the more impressionable Crusaders, I say "Go to" Tenebrous. Work your magic." Standing up from his crouch near the lip of the roof edge he pushed his cape back from his shoulders as he surveyed the alley below, eyes scanning it for the best places to get tripwires in place. Nodding to himself he turned to Crow "I'll get started at once, get a few webs stretched at ankle height and such. Maybe even a few gas grenades..." he ruminated to himself, leaping off the roof and soaring gracefully down, slowed by grapple line he fired after himself just before he cleared the lip. He waved cheerfully to the other two as he fell before landing in a roll, leaping up and setting about the task he was set.

"Nobody gets past here" he muttered grimly, testing two lines with a sharp jerk.

[Max]

Tenebrous was already floating away before the critique could be finished. This will be awesome, she thought, I will be all like evil cackle and 'FEAR ME!'. She disappeared into the tenement and down the stairs into the basement where the Crusaders were hiding. The big black blob of entropy spoke in a voice she deemed to be terrifying! "Crusaders! You have picked the wrong people to mess with! For I am the cold darkness that creeps in at midnight! I am the creepy feeling of remorse you are feeling right now! I! Am! Tenebrous!"

The Crusaders didn't look scared. They looked surprised at the big blob of darkness and sort of pissed off.

[Ari]

GM

The cigarette smoke-filled room that Tenebrous entered and made her grand declaration in had most of its floorspace taken up by round tables holding a rather plentiful supply of alcohol, a few take-out containers and the elbows of the Crusaders, who had almost as one swung around to see who had barged in on their meeting, their hands reaching for the various weapons that littered the room. Frank had been right about one thing: there weren't many guns to go around, mostly knives and a surprisingly large number of odd-looking short swords. With a creaking groan a massive figure walked out of the smoke that obscured the far wall of the basement, the harsh lights dangling from the ceiling illuminating the bare head, grotesquely-swollen muscles and top-heavy frame that apparently represented one of the 'MAX-users or something' that were the group's main deterrent besides their firemaking leader. Glaring down at the mass of darkness, he swung a heavy finger at her face, saying in a voice far deeper than any a human could normally reach "Get lost, super. You can't stop us just by showin' up, and I bet ya ain't know much about the Fens if ya think that'll do the trick. Get outta here and go back to the rest of your ********* kind, scum-suckin' harpy" he sneered, folding his massive arms over his knotted chest. A chorus of laughs followed that, many of them sounding like the voice of her challenger.

[Max]

Tenebrous sighed at the sight of the unfazed Crusaders. "See," the formless blob stated matter-of-factly, "You guys are no fun. No fun at all." She formed back into her normal costumed identity and crossed her arms, mocking the big man. "I am going to give you one chance here." She floated over to the big man meeting him face to face. She smiled facetiously and tapped her hip like an owner calling her dog. "Chase me, you big dumb cracker." She winked and then flew out of the building as fast as she could.

[Ari]

GM

A furious scowl crossed the hulking man's face, and with a broken snarl he turned to the other Crusaders, barking "C'mon! After her! Let's show her what happens when you try and screw with the Crusaders!" before charging after Tenebrous with thundering footsteps that shook the floor, followed by the massive rush of other racists that filled the otherwise quietly decaying building in a riot of shouts and hollered abuse slung after Tenebrous as they spilled out the door into the alleyway, drawing knives and guns as they launched into the alleyway. The first ones who hurtled into the rune realized their peril too late as the fog exploded into being around them, rolling in from seemingly nowhere, and they were carried by the tide of the other racists straight into the traps.

They almost instantly stumbled into the tripwires, falling down in roaring, flailing heaps before the gas mines and small explosives went off, sending them flying and crashing into the alley walls and against each others' heads, the plaster falling off in slabs off the walls and raining down on those who didn't manage to roll out of the way, staggering into the erupting clouds of gas that left them to stumble for a few feet before collapsing. Only two of them escaped, and that was by being last in line. The gigantic men had managed to withstand the assault, mainly by standing perfectly still once the chaos began.

One, sounding like the man who had spoken to Tenebrous shouted out furiously "Come on out and fight, you muddy-skinned cowards! We'll send you crawlin' back to your holes in Lincoln or West End or wherever the Hell you're from!"

[Ari]

Looking with satisfaction from the roof down at the trap that he and Crow had set up(wincing a few times at particularly harsh impacts or invectives), the King of Suits narrowed his eyes the space between his eyelid and cheek at the challenge, drawing a slim card from his belt, calling back "No, I do not think that is appropriate. The likes of you do not warrant a fair fight!" punctuating that statement of words that were emitted from his mouth at the speed of sound with a powerful toss of the card at where the grotesque man stood, the thing splitting in mid-flight and twisting into a coiling snake of metal that bound securely around the man, restricting his movement from shoulder to ankle with its winding length. How it had been packed into the size of a playing card was a mystery for the ages.

[Quinn]

Crow wasn't quite as vocal, but his tactic was awfully similar to the King. Though there was a brief thought floating through his head in the sense of he really should ask Suits how he did that. Granted, he cheated using magic on more than a few things, but extra-compact knives were a true wave of the future!

Right, thugs, traps, back to business.

One moment you saw him, the next you didn't - the black figure standing silently beside the King of Suits just vanished from view. There was a brief chipping of the masonry at the edge of the roof, then wind whistling around an invisible figure who was tumbling groundwards - to the thugs in the cloud of smoke and ash, one of their leaders suddenly found himself bound and trussed; their eyes beheld him stand ramrod straight for a split second before being abruptly yanked backwards into the black with a cut-off scream.

A second after that, there was the sound of crackling ozone, a sharp crack of blinding light that illuminated and bounced off of the black smoke, and the smell of...bacon?

Crow looked up at the dazed and twitching handiwork hanging upside-down from the lamppost with some satisfaction...and snickered a bit before he could catch himself.

...Aw, crap.

[Ari]

GM

At the tell-tale snicker coming from Crow's vantage point three of the remaining Super-MAX Crusaders dashed headlong at the lamp, leaping slightly into the air trying to smash their crushingly-powerful fists into where they had heard the sound, all of their mighty limbs missing their target with room to spare, shouts of anger and confusion echoing throughout the street as they landed back on the pavement, disproportionate heads whipping around at the fog that blanketed the world around them as they tried to catch some sign of their attacker.

Meanwhile, two others had decided to follow where the binding steel cords had come from, hurling themselves into the air and landing with resounding thuds on the roof right next to the King of Suits, "Say g'night, frog!" one of them cried, throwing back his fist and hurling it at where the accented voice had come from, slamming it into the concrete with a howl of pain, his ally attempting to strike where their target had evaded to, but merely ending up bruising his own knuckles.

The sixth listened briefly to the furious bawls coming from the other two directions, and dashed out of the fog into the clear, stumbling over the bodies of his fallen comrades before blindly jumping entirely free of the alley, quickly getting himself into a ready stance as he scanned his vicinity.

The two non-mutated Crusaders were much more badly shaken by the shocking attack, and dashed back inside, heading for the basement and their phones. "Gotta tell White Knight!" one of them gasped to the other "This is gettin' too crazy for us!"

[Ari]

GM

Tenebrous quickly realized that while the chaos would keep the Crusaders off their guard, it would also put the citizens nearby in grave danger from not only the muscleheads but the flame-throwing White Knight too! Swooping through the air down to ground level, she began to get to work evacuating the Freedonians unfortunate enough to be living or wandering around the site of battle. Pushing herself to the limits of her power she used her force field to form a darkly-glowing open crate in which her passenger were carried beyond the battlezone. The streets and houses around the Heights were sparsely populated and the people had already figured out a donnybrook involving supers was underway, which made it thankfully easy to move the scared, confused people, many of whom had grabbed suitcases and put together boxes of personal belongings almost on reflex. Many were already beginning to hurriedly descend down fire escapes as the thuds and rumbles and fog alerted the Fens to what was going on.

In case White Knight or some opportunists tried anything against them, Lillian remained with the evacuees, floating above them like the Obsrosos itself. Even the most desperate thieves quailed at the sight, slinking back into the alleyways to get to their hiding places to watch the fight. Or what could be seen of it.

[Ari]

Leaping backwards when the massive arms slammed out of nowhere into the concrete mere inches from where his head had been, the King of Suits glanced hurriedly up at his two new foes, muttering under his breath <"Too close, too close, where are they..."> as he searched for the vital weapons his belt held.

Seizing hold of the two gauntlets that lay snugly next to his thighs, he quickly slid them over his gloved hands, snapped the connections shut around the chemical tubes, and charged forward with a powerful strike straight at the head of his enemy, pulling the double trigger that sent the ram rocketing forward and connecting with a thunderous *WHUD* that sent the Frenchman staggering away from the hulked-up Crusader. To his satisfaction, man was visibly discombobulated by the charged punch, and with a swirl of his black and red cape he vanished into the fog. 'Many thanks, Crow, for this charity' he thought with relief as he watched his enemies through what to them was a blanket of impassible grey wool, but was to him a thin mist.

[Quinn]

A voice from the aether lanced into King's range of perception, three short words that nonetheless conveyed a distinct intent. Crow's rasp sounded out loud; the thugs assailing empty space hearing it ringing in their ears as well - though hopefully they wouldn't get that meaning. The low criminal mind was often confused, after all...and besides, how many of these bulky meatheads would admit to watching cartoons?

"King! Scooby Doo!"

Perhaps the thugs got a glimpse of a grim figure in black as Crow turned on his invisible heel; disappearing just as a flurry of blows struck where he had been. That same cloaked figure reappeared on his former position overlooking the alleyway; dropping two unseen knives into his hands...wires reaching up into his sleeves.

He'd be cutting this fine, very fine...

[Ari]

GM

The thugs for the most part were fairly rusty on their Hannah-Barbera cartoon lore, and none of them would have admitted to enjoying that show in particular for a moment. At least half of the hulking lunks, however, knew exactly what their quarry was talking about.

"We've got to get out of here!" one of the triad trailing the talon-wielding terror of the twilight told his similarly-bulked-out comrades as he raced for where he guessed the edge of the fog lay. One of the others stopped for a moment, thinking over this plan before nodding and shouting "Alright, I'm coming with! I don't wanna get shocked by that guy!" he said fearfully, taking to his heels after the first speaker, vanishing into the murk. "Cowards! I'll deal with him MYSELF, let's see how White Knight thinks of that! Probably give me a promotion" he added to himself, jumping for where he had heard the voice of Crow, and punching into the darkness with all his power...and crashing his fist into the hard bricks with a mighty *CRARK*, collapsing back to the ground with a bark of pain, gripping his hand with a wince.

The two tracking the King of Suits blundered past him in the fog, swinging viciously as they struck at phantom versions of their target, quickly losing their way in the dark and heavy mist.

Meanwhile, inside...

"Hello? White Knight? This is Chuck, I-yes sir. Under attack! You've gotta...oh, you're already on your way? Thank you sir, thank-yes sir, shutting up."

[Ari]

The cowled man crouching in the fog on the roof, trying to ignore the two men blundering about nearby, was just puzzling over the problem of how they were going to resolve this when he heard Crow's clarion shout. These men were definitely not skilled fighters, but they were definitely were dangerous to the buildings around them, and Marceau knew all too well how slow and infrequent any repair work got in the Fens, having seen holes in roofs remain untouched for months, if not years at a time. Maybe if he tried

"King! Scooby Doo!"

He started at the call, his mind instantly leaping to years back, when he and some of his friends had happened to end up doing an all-nighter of American cartoons. Getting silently back to his feet, he grinned outright, more at the pleasant memories than with any malice towards the Crusaders trying to beat him to death. "Roooby Roo!" he replied brightly, thinking 'Now then, let us give them a reason to stay in the fog..' he waited until the man whose skull he had already rattled stumbled just a bit too close to him, and leaped out of the heavy mist, slamming one of his gauntlets into the man's side with a meaty thud as he pulled the trigger, punching the air clean out of the MAXed out man's lungs before ducking past the gasping, wheezing bulk that crashed to the roof behind him.

Gaining speed on the slick concrete, the King of Suits took a deep breath, and hurled himself across the dizzying gap between the decaying building next to the Blanche Heights and the dingy building that lay in its shadow, rolling as he hit the roof to disperse the weight of his fall, and splashing through a slightly stagnant puddle as he rolled to a halt, well clear of the fog. He turned and looked back at where he had come from, saying to himself "Let's see what Crow has in mind..."

[Quinn]

Normally, this would likely be a point in time when a certain hero clad in black and perched upon a nearby rooftop would say something akin to "Jackpot", or "I love it when a plan comes together", or some such one-liner. Something to add a bit of insult to injury, even if the villains in question couldn't quite hear it.

Unfortunately, the one-liner for this situation would go unsaid; mostly because Crow's attentions were somewhere else at the time. From his cloaked position, the young man made three elaborate hand gestures - the jagged bolt of a rune on both gloves' backplates not only smoking and burning, but outright blazing behind his magic veil.

...lightningboltlightningboltlightningboltlightningboltlightningboltcomeonyoubloodyFomoriancursedpíosaiarainncacamasTHERE!

Two hands shot forward, the blazing light from the backplates transferring to a pair of knives that fair to burst underneath the sheer elemental pressure. The roiling motes spun forward...and touched the fog cloud.

Physics ensued.

With a flash and a crack of thunder came what could only be described as a tempest in a teapot, the dark alley's shadows cast into sharp relief, and the thugs finding themselves at the epicentre of a localized electrical storm. It was likely a remarkable, once-in-a-lifetime experience. For all of a few seconds.

If anyone was to have said Crow had a slightly satisfied smile at the resulting cause-and-effect chain, he would have likely said 'no comment'.

[Ari]

GM

With various howls, shrieks and groans the MAX-infused Crusaders were subject to the electrical whims of Crow's rune magic, one of those hunting the King of Suits on the roof crumpling to the ground in a spasmodic heap, pitiable whimpers jolting from his mouth. Two of those just below the demigod were also struck down by the sudden lightning, staggering and smoking for a perilous moment before falling to the wet and dirty asphalt with meaty thuds. The one who had decided to make a run for it took one look at the small cloud behind him, and took even more to his heels, feet pounding the ground and carrying him out of sight.

Not all of his opponents were so intimidated, however. One man among them managed to fling his bulky self to the relative safety of a drier patch of ground, the writhing arcs that lashed him provoking a cry of pain, but otherwise not harming him nearly as much as his fellows. Getting slowly and with obvious difficulty to his feet, his neurons fighting to keep their body moving after the attack, he fixed one beady brown eye on where he was sure he had seen the first flash of light before the storm. Grabbing a handy dumpster in a mighty hand that bent and warped the thin metal and plastic, he stepped forward and flung it with incredible power at his target, gambling that its size meant he would hit something. "Got any more tricks, boy?" he shouted furiously into the fog, tensing himself for the next move...

Above the pair, and next to the recently retreated King of Suits, a shadow heralded the crash of another of the MAXed-out gang members, who stared contemptuously down at the lean Frenchman before grinding as he pulled back a fist "Thought you could run, n*****?" the racist epithet delivered with a grunt as he swung forward, aiming to dash the man against the cement!

[Ari]

Darting backwards in time to evade the blow, the King of Suits looked sharply up at the huge Crusader, eyes narrowing as he retorted "Good manners take you further than bad, garçon. I was giving you some space!" he snapped, sliding around the towering hulk's defenses, drawing his gauntlets and slamming a chemically-powered ram straight into the man's side!

Watching as he sank with a low mumble, Marceau sighed with relief, checked the man's heart and was surprised to find it still beating. Shrugging off the question of 'why?'

for later, he swung down onto the sidewalk, hurrying towards where the lone vigilante was handily dealing with the crowd of MAXed-out gangsters. 'At least I won't be too late!' he thought wryly, glancing admiringly at the scattered figures of the fallen.

[Quinn]

The handy dumpster soared across the distance - and the thug's guess of it hitting something was very much on target. Although not quite in the amount he was hoping - there was a sharp crack, a splash from the small puddles in the ground; signs of a figure who'd been clipped, but rolled with the hit. Even if there was some blood suddenly visible on the ground where that opaque figure had rolled...

"Just one." said a hoarse voice into that thug's ear - a splash of that same crimson landing on his shoulder as two black-clad arms tried to get a solid grip on his neck; a sleeper hold!

Now, there is a law in the world, called physics. Physics are what ensue when a young man who is built fairly solidly, but generally far more wiry than actually muscly, decides to attempt to enter into a wrestling hold with a man roughly twice, maybe two-and-a-half times his size, with a neck that was akin to a tree-trunk. Unfortunately, it was a bit late by the time Crow realized that. And while extremely spooky and intimidating in approach, his choice of action had been what Coach Archer would deem a 'rookie mistake'.

...ah, crap.

[Ari]

GM

Shrugging off the boy and tossing him to the ground just as the King of Suits dashed into view, the Crusader glared at Crow before snorting, turning to the side, and dashing into the alleyway. Halting and getting into a ready stance, he began "Now, let's see you-" "RARRRRRRRGH!" interrupted his comrade, who tore out of the metal bonds that encased him and leaped upon the King of Suits, sending a fist crashing into the man's wiry chest, only for it to rebound harmlessly off of the armor, and bruise his knuckles with a disbelieving howl.

"Seriously Jack, you embarrass me." said the other Crusader with a look of disgust.