ic My Brother's Keeper [IC]

[GranspearZX]

GM

Mabel seemed lost in thought for a moment. For a minute, it seemed as if she'd fallen asleep right in the middle of Harry talking.

"Ah! Yes. That young man fighting with those hooligans. Seemed to be doin' just fine until the big one showed up. Shame." She shook her head, describing the entire thing as if it were as common as the sun rising and setting. "Turn the page, dear. Those nice officers already asked about the car... The metal-faced one was actually too big to even fit... mm."

She seemed to be rambling, unable to focus on any one aspect of what she'd seen--whether that was deliberate or not, it was difficult to tell. "Keeping the streets safe, hm? That's so sweet... You should be careful. These are some... very bad men. Nice boys like you shouldn't be doing such dangerous things! That's what I told the red one. But he wouldn't listen either."

[Supercape]

NPC

"Metal Mask eh?" replied the Hound, writing down every word Mabel said, which, he had to admit, was somewhat jumbled and not spectacularly helpful.

Still, there were some grains of salt in what she said.

Some huge great slabs of salt actually.

"Well that is interesting. And a little bit scary to be honest..." he added, giving the Mess a pointed look.

"That's where you come in my friend" he added to, giving his partner a little jab with his shoe.

"And a man in Red? hmmm...someone else looking for this guy is there? could be complicated..."

"Anyway Ma'am, thanks for your time and patience. You have been a great help. If you remember anything else, please let these gents know..." he said, slipping a card to the transit workers.

He strolled off with the Mess, deep in thought, until they hit the Caddy.

"Time for a bit of nosework, my friend..." he concluded, as they sped off to the scene of the crime.

A little later...

When they got out together, the Mess was accompanied by a slightly mangy looking mongrol dog, all hair. It was, despite it's rather shaggy matted appearance, in good health and strong. And had a good nose for crime.

"Let's see if I can pick up any scent..." it barked.

That is, it spoke, in English, with a gruff dog-like voice.

[GranspearZX]

GM

11:24 p.m.

Back at the crime scene, very little had changed. The alley was still cordoned off by police tape, a few officers accompanying an investigation team still taking pictures and documenting evidence around the alley. Still, from where Hound began his search, there was plenty that simply wasn't showing up--trace amounts of grease and metal shavings were all over the ground in a pattern leading towards the back of the alley, largely unnoticed by the mundane senses of the crime scene investigators.

"Young man, this is a crime scene. You can't walk your dog over here," one of the officers quipped, clearly not one of the uniformed men that had been here the first time Freddy had arrived.

Still, as Freddy mused over the metal-faced man, he recalled that the Mazziari mob family had an enforcer who'd been in some sort of industrial accident, and had various metal bits grafted onto his body--Francis "Frank the Riveter" Agostino. Whatever the Mazziari family was involved in, Frank had gone from a big dumb bruiser to a giant dumb bruiser with, among other things, a metal lower jaw.

[Supercape]

"Young man, this is a crime scene. You can't walk your dog over here,"

"What? Harry?" answered the Mess.

"Woof Woof!" barked an irritated Harry.

"Errr. Yeah. Harry, my dog Harry. Yeah, sorry about that. Look, I don't mean to be a bother or anything, but I'm a private eye. I helped save the guy who got mauled here, and, well I promised I would try and try and catch the scumbag who did it!"

He shrugged his short, massive shoulders.

"My dog here, he's good at tracking down scent's. Thought I might catch him that way, so to speak. From the sounds of the descriptions, I got myself an idea who did it too. Frank the Riveter. Got a Jaw made of Iron. And I don't mean like a boxer. I mean, his jaw is made of real iron..."

[GranspearZX]

GM

"...oh." The officer just blinked a few times. There was a clear look of familiarity on his face before he looked at his partner. Behind them, the CSI technicians were finally wrapping things up. "The Riveter... Jesus. Look, I'll pass it along to Detective Stearns, but... that's the best I can do."

Both officers were clearly uncomfortable at the thought of trying to arrest him; either they were less experienced or knew exactly what they were in for.

[Supercape]

"You do that, buddy, you do that!" smiled the Mess, full of encouragement and giving a hearty smile. "I'm sure Detective Stearns will be on it..."

Sounds like the Riveter has go the officers on the street real spooked! noted the Mess to himself.

"In the meantime, I can look into this. And I ain't afraid of the Riveter. If he comes knocking, I'll coming knocking back. Just that I'll do it a lot harder!" he said, with conviction.

"Go dog!" he said, tapping the Hound with his foot, who sighed a very human sigh in a dog voice, and started sniffing around...

"He's a good dog!" smiled the Mess, enjoying himself.

[GranspearZX]

GM

 

The officers and the crime scene techs seemed largely unsure what to make of Mess and his dog; a brief phone call to Stearns and they backed off, though not without a deliberate air of skepticism among them.

 

Hound's senses picked up far more than any of them could have--the scent of grease and oil seemed out of place for an alley too narrow to hold a vehicle. There were also faint amount of metal shavings trailing from the back of the alley. There weren't nearly enough to track, but there were definite footprints left by the Riveter. The investigators might have discovered them eventually, but their scent and spacing made them rather obvious for the Hound.

 

The trail weaved through buildings but was generally heading south towards the southern end of the West End--not the best neighborhood, with lots of construction going on near Highway 6.

[Supercape]

Freddy lead his dog, or perhaps, more accurately, his dog lead him, at a brisk pace down towards Highway 6. There were a few too many people on the walkways to risk an open conversation. Instead, Freddy talked to the mutt and the mutt gave some rather astute growls in response. 

 

"Looks like we got ourselves a trail!" said Freddy gleefully as they trotted along. 

 

Woof!

 

"I heard of the Riveter guy. Genuine one-hun-dred per-sent bad guy" he drawled, picturing a slug out in his head. Freddy wasn't one to back away from a fight, and brimmed with confidence at the thought of some pugilism, but that didn't mean he was over confident or unrealistic. Slugging things out often got nasty, and even for him, it hurt. 

 

"Kinda guy I'd like to knock off the street, y'know?"

 

Woof!

 

"So I guess he got in coming. You and me, we can take him out!" he said, punching a fist into a palm. 

 

Woooooooof? Woof and woof?

 

"Heads up, partner! he we are!" he finished as they walked into town...

[GranspearZX]

GM

 

The largest construction site before the overpass leading back into the Fens was once supposed to be some sort of bus station. It had since been turned into a ragged auto repair shop, and not one of a particularly high reputation. It was a suspected cover for car thieves, though police surveillance had turned up nothing of the sort. From a fairly long distance, Hound and Mess could see a motorcycle speeding into the fenced-in lot--definitely going faster than what one would consider to be 'safe'.

[Supercape]

"Rwuffthat looks a bit suspicious..." barked the Hound in passible English. 

 

"Sure does..." said the hound, cracking his knuckles and mentally pounding his super powered blood into action. The swelling was not exactly painful, more like a heat that bellowed around his body, with an uncomfortable sensation of ballooning. It was not a sensation one would seek out or choose, but neither was it one would go out of ones way to choose...

 

But the end result made him look like a sack of soccer balls, with swollen, pumping veins and a neck as thick as most men's chest. 

 

"And I aim to find out just why!" he said with a smile and a grimace rolled into one. 

 

With a powerful explosion of his feet, he bounded forth, travelling at rocket speeds propelled by rocket legs. 

[GranspearZX]

GM

 

Mess's run easily outpaced the motorcycle. As he approached, he could tell that the man on the bike was far smaller than the Riveter, so it definitely wasn't him. Instead, the man was wearing a red and white costume, and nearly skidded out of control when he spotted Freddy's approach. He skidded to a halt just past the entrance to the gate and quickly hopped off the bike, pulling his helmet off.

 

"I dunno who the hell you are, pal, but if you're one of Mazziari's goons..."

Edited March 7, 2013 by GranspearZX

[GranspearZX]

45 minutes earlier...

 

Clark wasn't usually the type to go snooping, but when it came to his brother, he never gave it a second thought. He did, after all, have a key to his brother's house, given to him by his sister-in-law. Tonight, though, he headed straight for the rehabilitation center in Hanover.

 

What he found wasn't necessarily good for his mood. He found his brother had, indeed, been getting treated there. While there was no official timetable for his release, his admission had not only been voluntary, but he'd been making some progress. A brief search of his room at the center found an old betting slip with a date on it--yesterday's, followed by a dollar amount and an address.

 

It didn't take long for him to figure out what was going on, and he was almost blind with anger as he sped across the city back to the address--a construction site at the edge of the Fens, on the opposite side of the highway.

 

Ben had to have known what was coming. Was he trying to martyr himself? That... that IDIOT. I swear, if he dies, I'll...

 

But that was before he spotted the diminutive detective from the hospital. He nearly ate dirt from being startled by him and the speed at which he'd gained on him; in moments he'd hopped off his bike. He couldn't let on that he already knew the guy. He had to wonder what leads lead him here. Either way, he wasn't going to let anyone get in his way. Thus, he had to pretend as if he'd never seen him before in his life. He wasn't, however, willing to try and strongarm him off the case of Ben's assault. Not yet.

 

"I dunno who the hell you are, pal, but if you're one of Mazziari's goons..."

Edited March 7, 2013 by GranspearZX

[Supercape]

"I dunno who the hell you are, pal, but if you're one of Mazziari's goons..."

 

"Mazziari? Goon?" replied the Mess, offended at the insinuiation. His neck throbbed with vein and artery pumping away at high speed. 

 

"I'm here to stop the Goons, pal" he said, smacking righty into lefty. "Some guy named the Riveter. Left some guy in hospital and is giving even the gutters of the Fen's a bad name, and nobody does that to the Fen's on my watch..."

 

He gazed up and down at the Crusader. The guy didn't look like a normal biker. Hell, he didn't look like a normal anything....

 

Who the hell was he?

 

"My name is the Mess. Bloody Mess. And I'm here to clean up the streets!" he finished, pointing a blunt finger at his interrogator. 

 

"And my question to you is..what type of Goon are you?"

[GranspearZX]

I'm gonna make the Riveter wish he was never born.

 

Of course, Clark wasn't actually going to say that out loud. Mess's presence certainly had made his intentions seem far less rational, but he would freely admit that there was nothing rational about him hunting his brother's assailant in a cowl and costume. For anyone else, it would have seemed downright weird... which explained the skeptical look on Freddy's face.

 

The second thing that popped into his head wasn't any more reasonable than the first.

 

"Clean up the streets... cute," Crusader quipped, putting his bike helmet on the handlebars and removing his shield from his back. "I'm the guy that's gonna wipe the floor with the Mazziari's. Tonight. Starting with Frank. So you can either get on board or... not."

[Supercape]

"I can get on board with that!" said the Mess, his voiced laced with genuine anger. 

 

He gave the Crusader up and down, which led to a distinct furrowing of brow. Partly, he wished he had donned his own Superhero costume. Not that it did I blind bit of good concealing his identity. He just felt more like a superhero when he wore it. 

 

"What's with the bike? and the costume? and the shield?" he asked, puzzlement peeping through his determined anger. 

 

"Are you some kind of superhero or something?" he concluded. 

 

"Nice bike" he added, as an afterthought. 

[GranspearZX]

"...is that a serious question?"

 

It really did catch him off guard. In fact, it snapped him out of his mental rampage long enough to actually be confused. Still, after considering the question, he came to a realization--tonight, he really wasn't much of a superhero. There was nothing heroic about the revenge he wanted. Right now, that epiphany didn't make him want to break the Riveter's arms off any less.

 

"Thanks. ...if you're gonna stick around, just try not to get in the way," he said, looking over at the building. There were still lights on inside, and enough machine noise that the bike had gone, thus far, unheard. "...call me Crusader, by the way."

[Supercape]

"Awesome!" laughed the Mess, excitedly, slapping out his hand for a shake. 

 

"My names Mess. Bloody Mess" he explained. "I should have brought my superhero costume, but I left it in the caddy" he said, slapping his forehead. 

 

"I guess I'll have to make do for now..." he shrugged, the tattered t shirt still hanging off him.

 

He jabbed a finger towards the construction site. 

 

"Do you know where this Riveter guy is? I gots some hunches he is around here, but...no idea where?" he asked, scratching his nose. The Hound was a mile away after his spurt of speed. And he didn't want to go back to get him whilst the Crusader launched himself into a fight. Either the Mess would miss the fun, or the Riveter would be a handful. Either way, he wasn't going to let the Crusader waltz into a fight and leave the Mess behind...

[GranspearZX]

"I've got a source," Crusader began, pointing at the building, "that says he's in there. Him and his crew."

 

Now that he'd calmed down so,e, he realized just how bad an idea rushing into a group of car thieves--potentially superpowered car thieves--might have been. Immediately he considered what Marceau would have done, and he looked up at the two-story warehouse, noting several access points that would have been far safer to observe the enemy from. Sure, it wasn't as satisfying as kicking the door in, but if he really wanted justice for his brother's attack, getting himself injured wasn't going to help.

 

Charlotte definitely had a point, even if she didn't know all the details.

 

"Alright. Let's go." And with that, Crusader headed around towards the western end of the building. All the cars and bikes that were parked in view were on the eastern end--three in all, including a very large truck with tires that couldn't have possibly been street legal. From there, he headed up a set of metal stairs to the second floor, pressed against the door at the top, listening for anything that might have been on the other side.

[Supercape]

"Hey wait for me!" yelled the Mess and the Crusader sped off. His pumped up muscles had reduced from their swollen state to normal. Although faster than any man had a right to be, he couldn't, in this state, keep up with the motorcycle. 

 

He was breathing a little hard, and swept off some sweat from his brow when he caught up. 

 

"Damn, don't let me miss the action!" he swore, perhaps a little too loudly, before spying the Crusader trying to sneak up on the "informant". 

 

"Whatcha doing there? listening them to death?" he said, slamming one hammer fist into a palm. 

 

"Lets get in their and kick some ass!" he grinned, throwing subtlety to the wind and matching forward. 

[GranspearZX]

GM

 

"Shh!" Crusader glared at Mess and his scraggly-looking dog--he wasn't sure if it was a stray or if it was really his, but it seemed to be following Freddy. He couldn't hear much save a handful of voices, and none of them seemed to have heard anything outside. Reaching for the handle, Crusader opened the door slowly, slipping inside and leaving more than enough room for the wide-shouldered Bloody Mess to do the same.

 

Below, at the far end of the warehouse, were several cars in varying states of assembly. Some were stripped down to the frames, others missing engines. Four men were standing around one in particular having a rather loud disagreement, with a fifth, much larger than the rest, crouched in front of a large van, sparks flying from the welding equipment he was using--which seemed to be rather permanently attached to his right arm.

[Supercape]

"Head's up!" said the Mess, possibly a little too loudly. But, after all, the sound of metalwork was somewhat overpowering. 

 

He jabbed a stubby finger in a straight line towards the large man. 

 

"I ain't the smartest tool in the box, I'll give ya that" he conceded. "Took a few too many knocks to the head when I was a tearaway kid. Prob'ly taking too many knocks to the head still. But I'll bet you ten dollars that guy is the Riveter!" he proclaimed. 

 

"Got word on this guy. Big man, nasty work. Messed up a few too many people on the streets - including some guy in hospital right now. I promised I would bring this guy down. give him a one way ticket to the slammer. And I aim to keep that promise!" he snarled. 

 

"Guy got a reputation, I'll give him that. Can handle himself real well. But, I ain't doin' this cos its easy!"

[GranspearZX]

GM

 

For several moments, Crusader said nothing. He didn't make a sound, not even a grunt of acknowledgment in response. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the five men rummaging around below them. In the silence, one could practically hear the leather of his gloves creak from Crusader's hand tightening around the strap holding his shield to his arm.

 

There was no warning when Crusader climbed up onto the railing separating the top of the stairs from everything else--his intentions were clear, and it didn't seem that he was going to ask for advice or permission.

[Supercape]

"Hey, wait for me!" frowned the Mess, scowling. 

 

He cracked his knuckles and followed the Crusader, with less grace but more speed. 

 

"I gotsa job to do!" he explained as he pulled up besides Crusader. 

 

"You ain'ts told me what yer beef is with these guys! Not that I'm complainin', yer understand? I made a promise, and I aim's to keep it!" he drawled. "Ahm introducing the Riverter to my two best freinds..."

 

"Lefty!" he crunched his left fist. 

 

"And Righty!" he crunched the other. 

 

"And, er...you gots a plan or something...I ain't to smart with all that fancy stuff. Kinda just charge in..." he explained, shrugging his shoulders and scratching his head. 

[GranspearZX]

"Plan? ...not really." 

 

Crusader's voice was unusually measured, and he was skating at the edge of rage. The fact that the Riveter was somewhere around 7 or 8 feet tall didn't seem to bother him in the least. To that end, the only thing that didn't keep him from immediately rushing in and dispensing knuckle-style justice was Bloody Mess's presence. Even in this particular instance, it only delayed him for a while--long enough to see that at least one of the other men was brandishing a gun.

"That's not gonna be a problem, is it?"

 

Clark had seen what Mess could do. He was fairly certain if he could save his brother from a surgical nightmare, he could probably shrug off a bullet. As angry as he was, though, he didn't feel entirely comfortable putting a stranger in that position. But if Mess really wanted to charge in, Crusader wasn't about to stop him.

[Supercape]

"That suits me fine!" replied the Mess. 

 

Sure, I ain't the smartest fella in the block, but I can smell a guy whose blood is up. This guy wants it. Crusader's face was cold, and not just the coldness of a fighter's focus. The man was angry. 

 

The Mess knew what anger could do to a man  - good and bad. Give him that edge of strength and will in a fight, or make him clumsy and reckless. He hoped it was more the former than the latter. 

 

"Gimme a moment..." he muttered, once again forcing his super-powered blood to pump up through his body. His muscles and veins swelled to ridiculous balloon size, and he felt his full power come to him. 

 

"Its time for lefty and righty!" he yelled, smacking a fist into a palm and jumping into the fray.,..