ic All That Glitters (IC)

[Kaige]

GM

Perhaps any candy company that brands a product "Liquid Yum" deserves to be on its last legs. Either way, that was the situation for Snacktastic.

 

Once upon a time Snacktastic was the king of the off-brand, sold in bulk to dollar stores and mini-markets across America. But that was largely back when it was the Hardwick Candy Company, almost thirty years ago. It was also before better federal sanitation laws for food production facilities - and before the ensuing lawsuits. In more recent years Snacktastic had the dubious honor of selling most of its product in third world countries with no safety or quality regulations to speak of, though even that business was drying up. Back in the glory days, Goober Balls and Chock-O-Splat had been made in separate dedicated factories. As of a few weeks ago, they shared a single assembly line.

 

Industrial Drive backed up onto sickly, smog-choked forest, a long line of manufacturing complexes in which only every fifth one was still wheezing along. The illegal nightclubs held on former factory floors probably raked in more money than most of these half-abandoned wage slave hellholes, but they didn't go on anyone's growth projections or tax returns. By night their neon lights, strung around rusted smokestacks, would illuminate a frenzy of activity. Drug dealers would rub shoulders with spoiled rich kids out on a dare and overworked Wolvertonites desperate for some fleeting moment of happiness or excitement. Off-duty cops, struggling to make ends meet on their pitiful salaries, would provide security for the places they should legally be shutting down.

 

During the day, though, everything was quiet. Any noise was restricted to within the functioning factory complexes, and most of the people working inside were too tired to speak over the rumble of jumbled machinery. Very little traffic came out to this edge of the city. It was the perfect place for uninvited guests to squat, at least while the sun was shining.

 

The old Snacktastic factory was surrounded by a crumbling brick wall, its former reddish hue lost beneath a thick layer of soot. The large iron gates had been chained shut, but it looked like someone had taken the lock off with bolt cutters and moved it aside. The building itself was huge, with a multi-story interior; it was hard to make out much of what lay within through the grimy windows, but it looked like massive steel vats took up significant space inside. For anyone who cared to look, nearly twenty motorcycles were parked just inside the gate, alongside several battered vans that looked just like the one from Rothstein's security footage.

[Raveled]

Luthor made a face at the bikes parked willy-nilly in front of the candy factory, and the vans parked so near the loading bay doors. If all the vehicles were filled to capacity, there could be anywhere between thirty and fifty gun-wielding bikers using the factory as their hide-out. Which probably meant they'd have plenty of weapons and traps and other surprises for any heroes who tried to break up their fun.

 

He jumped out of the bed of the truck and hit the ground with his big boots, the sound reverberating off distant, brick-walled structures. "Looks like two or three dozen guys in there," he said, mostly for his sister's benefit. "If we're lucky, they got all coked up for the hit and are sleeping all that off." He reached into the cab of the truck and pulled out his mask, wrapping it around his head and tying it carefully. "And with our luck they're probably getting foot massages from Captain Sharkey right now."

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk slid out of the truck bed, doing a quick weapons check. She had a full quiver, her axe was sharp enough, and her bow-string was kept in tip-top shape as if by magic. Restowing her armament, she looked the structure up and down. "Do not forget we need to leave at least one or two able to talk rather than subduing all of their forces. We will be incredibly outnumbered." Her voice sounded amused, and her teeth were bared in an enthusiastic grin. 

 

She turned to the siblings. "I suggest one of two approaches. You merely go in to talk, I go in cloaked behind you in case they attempt to use force or deception against you. The alternative is..." Arrowhawk lightly tossed her bow up in the air, letting it arc in a full circle before snatching it back into her hand. "We attempt to fight our way through, come what may."

[R. Bluefish]

"Little talking never hurt anybody," said Lena as she got out of the truck cab. She now wore her white sweatshirt, a set of black justice scales emblazoned prominently on the back, the hood down to let her hair fall free around her shoulders. "Sometimes it gets their guard down so you can kick their teeth in. Besides," she cast a wary glance over the row of gleaming motorcycles, "I don't love these odds. Best case scenario, they've got us seven to one. And @#$% knows what kind of artillery they're packing in there, but I ain't bulletproof enough to be taking any chances today."

 

Cracking her neck from side to side, she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and tied her black mask around her face. "Gotta remember they might have the old guy in there somewhere. Wouldn't be very good superheroes if we let something happen to him, so there's another reason to not just kick in the damn door." As much as she was looking forward to cracking a few skinhead skulls, there was a smart way to go about this.

 

Looking up at the looming factory before them, she eyed the upper-story windows. "Could probably get up there. If any of us do want to go in quiet, taking the high road's not a bad way to do it. Especially if those open onto the factory floor."

[Raveled]

Luthor considered the spread of motorcycles and the tall factory face, flexing one hand contemplatively and scratching his chin with his free hand. "You know, we can get them to come out, too." He flexed his arm and wisps of red energy began to grow out of it, curling slowly and lazily around his biceps. "If I put a couple of bikes through that tall window up there," he said, pointing at a window at the peak of the building, "they'll run out here to see what's happening. Then we hit them."

[Ecalsneerg]

Arrowhawk looked up at where Luthor was pointing, not even questioning his sudden display of metahuman abilities. Where she came from such displays were commonplace. "That may actually be a tactically sounder option." She nodded. "Then let us draw them out to battle us under an open sky!"

 

She strode forward before dropping to one knee a good few feet in front of the gates. She nocked an arrow and drew it back loosely, pointing it to the ground a little before her, instead of towards the factory doors. "If need be, we can attempt to damage their vehicles and fall back to retreat in yours. But I am confident we will win this day."

[R. Bluefish]

Lena snorted. "Messing with their rides? If I know bikers, that oughta piss them off. Draw them outside, we can take them down out in the open. They won't be able to use the environment against us - I like it." Besides, who can walk away from a chance to destroy some skinhead asshole's bike. "Makes it more likely that they'll all come running out at once, too - I don't want to be dealing with a hostage situation today. Just let me get into position, some of us like to get up close and personal."

 

She set off jogging towards the building's main entrance, her long legs quickly devouring the distance. Reaching the factory, she pressed her back against the wall directly next to the main doors. With one hand, she made sure her mask was in place, then gave Luthor the thumbs up. Let's do it. Clenching her hands into fists, the centers of her pupils were suddenly lit from within by pinpricks of red light. Threads of crimson energy began dancing around her arms and torso as she focused her power in preparation.