Devils And Heroes (Frp)

[GloriaPreussens 798]

Devils and Heroes

 

Gotham quickly descends into chaos. Scarecrow has released his Toxin and the people have evacuated, leaving criminals and emergency service units around Gotham. Commissioner Gordon has called the Batman to help the dying city as Scarecrow comes ever closer to releasing his toxin. The Arkham Knight has helped to hinder his progress, leaving the Batman spread too thinly to counter all threats at once.

Nightwing is forced to assist Batman but can only help so much, leaving many of the smaller tasks to local vigilantes and heroes, buying Batman more time to stop Scarecrow.

--

In Metropolis, word spreads quickly around of Gotham and refugees arrive en masse. Superman vows to safeguard the city from any who would bring this toxin in. Riots on the streets begin, refugees of Gotham demanding fair treatment and a place to stay. Similar reports fly in from other cities containing the refugees.

--

Huntsman sat on the ledge a building, watching the streets of Gotham burn below. Looting was taking place, gang violence, crime. Gotham's finest were too small in number to contain the violence, the chaos. They isolated themselves in the local Precinct, sending teams to recover who and what they could and arming themselves for what came next.

Looking upwards, the bat signal was emblazoned across the night sky, at least there was one person that was able to do this. If anyone could stop this chaos it would be him. He exhaled sharply, unslinging his rifle, scanning rooftops and streets, scowling under his mask. Scarecrow was out there, and he had to get to him before Batman. Otherwise, it was another hunt to finally enact his vengeance. Until then, however, he might as well clean up what Batman couldn't.

Attaching a hook to the concrete, Huntsman would tie a line to it and rappel down, swinging into a window, drawing his handguns as he opened fire, Black Mask gang members dropping like flies as they rushed behind cover. His magazines emptied, Huntsman pulled the carbine off his back, diving behind a support pillar, peaking out to open fire.

There were still two dozen left, more than he counted on. They had guns too, he was pinned. A smile, Huntsman pulled the pin of a grenade, but something was amiss. Looking down, all his grenades were gone. What the hell? How? This was a problem, there was no way he was shooting himself out of this one...

A few shots fired from cover, members of the Black Mask fell but there were simply too many. It was a stalemate, if they advanced or flanked they were taken down, yet if he moved surely they'd take him down. The support pillar was thick concrete, no use for them to try to shoot through it.

With a sigh, Huntsman knelt down, loading his handguns before replacing them in their holsters and gripping his rifle closely. This was bad, simple and plain cut. Poor intelligence told him it was a small meeting, turns out something much larger was going on here. Perhaps a gang wide meeting even, which meant this was going to be all the harder. But none of that even mattered unless he could get out of this pickle.

Taking a risk, he pulls a flare from his belt, striking it quickly. Not one to waste time, Huntsman would toss it over to the window, a massive heads up to everyone in Gotham. Hoping for a response to the flare from anyone really. A rival criminal could cause a distraction or maybe, if he was lucky enough, someone might actually help him.

Realizing he needed to move, the mercenary looked to an overturned desk, thick and made of a hard material he would check his magazine, count to three, and dash from cover, gunning done some of the Black Masks as he slid into cover, grunting as he checked for hits on himself. Satisfied, he'd pull from cover and unleash the remaining rounds into nearby and easy targets.

Huntsman would trade the occasional fire with the Black Masks but he wouldn't last long. He needed someone to reply to that flare.

[Kim 1328]

Devynn shifted the clean sheets of paper, tucking everything away into their proper places before snapping the briefcase shut. Making her way hastily through the large building, she took a moment to glance around herself. Much of the headquarters had been evacuated, leaving only the employees who were capable of staying behind to help run things while the boss-man kept himself 'busy'. It wasn't hard to figure out who the Batman was, with a deeper look into Wayne Enterprises. A certain catty friend was also helpful in discerning this information.

 

Snapping her attention back to the task at hand, Devynn arrived at her car parked in the garage. The building had a many number of security measures in place, so she could rest easy while doing her job that her mode of transportation would always be here. Sliding into her car, Devynn started the ignition and headed for the exit before pulling right out onto the streets. She could already see gangs of men and women alike a few blocks down, looting and setting fire to the already ablaze Gotham. Scanning the available paths out, she opted for the closest road that had a straight shot to the edge of the city, towards her home. Slamming on the acceleration, her car sped recklessly down the road. After a few blocks, her eyes narrow as she catches sight of a newly lit flare further down the street. After coming to a screeching stop which would probably alert those in the building of more company, Devynn is able to hear the distinct sound of gunshots. With a glance between the briefcase and the building, her lips pulled into a sneer as if mocking the dumb action she was about to take.

 

Nowadays, she opted to wear her suit under her clothes. It was an easy change as she littered her over-clothes in the car before snatching her briefcase. After making sure to lock her car, she makes a slow jog for the building.

[Parkins 550]

It was another busy day in the scummy warehouse they had stuck Ryan in. Surrounding him with armed guards, medical supplies, matter of all kind to be used with his "gift".. mainly consisting of trash. Ah, and who could forget the stretchers. The stretchers running up and down the walls, on the floor or propped up, all with a body lying on them for one reason or another. Day in and day out, nothing but bodies. A miserable existence, to be sure. Kept here, surrounded by armed guard for his "protection." It was fairly obvious why they were always around the warehouse, with assault rifles, grenade launchers, and more. 

 

Ryan was working on a corpse who'd been shot, multiple times, when the yells came. After a minute the armed guards began to disperse, running out of the building to combat some unknown threat. Only one guard stayed, blocking Ryan's exit.

 

"What's going on?" he asks the guard, taking a few confused steps toward the armed man. "Some kinda radio call. Apparently our boys need backup near some building, guy shot a flare out. Don't worry, you're safe here.  The Bat's too busy with Scarecrow to bother us." Ryan would slowly lower his gaze, looking back to the endless rows of bodies before back to the guard, his expression taking a dark turn.

 

"Let me go."

 

The words echo off the walls, the patients ceasing their moans and complaints for a blessed moment. "What? Boss' orders to keep you workin'." the guard would say, finger tightening around his rifle's trigger. "You know you can't stop me.. I want out. Just step aside and I won't have to do anything." The man would merely scowl toward Ryan. "You're threatening the guy with the gun?" Ryan would slowly reach out, grabbing the man's gun in an iron grip, pushing it up as it fires in surprise. After a moment, it would seem to begin.. melting. It flows into Ryan's hand, the guard's eyes going wide with surprise. "W-What kinda freak are you?!" he asks, slowly backing away. "I'm the freak you should have let go." Ryan would mutter angrily, stepping toward the retreating man.

 

A scream would pierce the night, to join the chorus of others across Gotham. A lone figure would make his way toward the building's back entrance, black lab coat billowing slightly in the wind.

[Vilebranches 8]

XIX laid himself down on the splintered, decaying wooden planks of his sniper perch. His hands firmly grasping his rifle. He recently just arrived in Gotham amid the chaos and had converted an old abandoned Firehouse into his very own personal stockade. As he looked down the scope he saw several gunfights and muggings. Gotham truly did get flushed down into the sewers. His eyes eventually were blinded by a bright flash of red light, and as he looked in the direction of the light, he could see a car speeding towards the direction of it as well. As he peered through the window of a large building, what he saw was nothing special, several black-masked goons pointing their guns to a rather tightly-dressed vigilante. You eventually just come to expect things like this in Gotham. Never the less, it was nice seeing that amid all the chaos there were still those who fought back against the anarchy.

 

He had no intentions of intervening, he didn't want to get into any more trouble as it is. However, if things were to turn for the worse, best be known that somebodies heads were about to be filled to the brim with lead. So, he watched from a safe distance, his finger lightly placed upon the trigger, just in case. He almost recognized the thugs, something about a gang he was told about. He didn't pay much attention as they didn't seem too important. He probably should've payed more attention to his briefings.

[Addled 62]

The life of any stray animal was rough in Gotham after the evacuation. Dom had the displeasure of several territorial, starving pets scrambling for survival in the back alleys of this dying city. If that wasn't hard enough, they also had to deal with the overzealous criminals that now ran rampant in the city. He'd seen a few too many collared, forgotten dogs beaten into the ground from afar. Cats got it off a bit easier, being more agile. The birds and rodents had already returned to their instincts for the most part and escaped most of the turmoil. 

But he, was one of the few that could stay and survive. He was an elite among the dull minds of the beasts around him. Both man and animal alike. 

He hadn't done anything yet. With his three minds, combined as one, he was smart enough to know that attacking the gangs right now wouldn't ideal and he'd rather them not know of his presence yet. The very act of stalling hurt his very being. He knew that if he were to survive, he'd have to watch first. Observe. Learn. From the conversations he'd overheard, there was a single man causing, a bat of some sort, causing distress. Dom was hopeful, proud even, of the vigilante's work but he knew that it'd take more than one man to stop and reverse this calamity. 

As Dom thought about this issue, one of his three heads lifted, ears perked. Then, the other two followed. Together, they heard it clearly. Screams. Unable to stall any longer, Dom escaped his temporary hide-out in an alley and began running in the direction of the screams.
 

[Rig 17580]

Far out on the edges of Gotham, Brigade treks through the streets, his ominous black mask set onto his face. He was hunting for something, but what in particular had yet to be seen or discerned. 

[CowsGoMoo 267]

Portraits, books, letters -- really, anything inside a house tells a story. If a person were to dig through enough stuff, they might find themselves unconsciously building a biography. Such as the fact that this is a family of three; a dad with two twin daughters. No mother. Or at the very least, from what you can tell from the family portraits. Then, there are the textbooks. World History, Algebra II, and Chemistry. Highschool books. A sketchbook, a dusty guitar, leftover Chinese takeout, food coupons, an empty canister of pills for high cholesterol -- After a while, it’s almost as though you know the family personally… which, when it comes to stealing, really doesn’t help with the guilt.

 

Scott lets out a sigh, beginning to carefully remove his two black gloves off from his hands. After completely rummaging through the master bedroom, the two spare bedrooms, kitchen, living room and even bathroom, he had found what he was looking for. A small metal safe. He wriggles his fingers around a bit, and begins to reach out before hesitating. No one was exactly well off within this area. He had taken a peek at the unfinished bills on the table. They were getting by, but barely. Chances are, this family needs what’s inside the safe. He groans, cursing at his habit of poking around at other people’s business. It would had been easier if he had known nothing at all about this family.

 

However… gangs have already begun raiding homes. It wouldn’t be long until they reached this apartment complex. Whatever’s inside this safe isn't quite safe anymore. It would be stolen anyways. At least, that was what he told himself. There was no time to be feeling guilty. It wouldn’t be long until a group of thugs raided the place, and Scott really did not want to be stuck inside with them while that happened. Anyways, he had stayed behind in this damned city for the sole purpose of getting some much needed cash, and he was not going to let that effort go to waste.

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there were gunshots. Not something that was particularly new when it comes to the current state of Gotham, but it wasn’t just two or three, there were shots being fired in succession. They sounded extremely close by, and with a frown, he turns towards the window. Maybe it was a gunfight between two gangs or something...

 

Then, a red flare. Right out of a broken window from a building that was across the street. Scott exhales sharply, moving away from the window, huffing, "Well, that explains the "Where" of the five Ws, at least. Now I just need to answer, When, Who, What, and Whether or not I am stupid enough to intervene..."

 

Gunshots were usually bad news if they were coming from three blocks away, but, across the street?... He begins to run his options through his mind -- he could hold out in here until whatever was happening outside ends… or he could make a break for it now. He turns his attention back to the safe with a small frown. Either way, he had to get into the safe, there’s no reason not to, it would take only a few seconds after all--

 

He grimaces, the gunshots still ringing through the air. He was starting to feel panicky. Staying inside seemed like the logical thing to do, but at the same time... the building was awfully close. What if there were explosives or something? Perhaps the best option would be to ditch the safe and make a break for it. He slides his gloves back on, trying his best to block out the sounds of gunfire. He didn't want to deal with a guilty conscious anyways. Perhaps it would be best if he left the safe as it is. 

[Booklight12 481]

Deep in the belly of Gotham city, a figure slowly fades into existence, the space around him distorting before he slowly takes form in an alleyway of the now explosive city under the threat of Scarecrow and numerous gangs. The figure looks around at the many homeless and sick that were unable to escape the city during the evacuation and grimaces slightly as he finally takes full form.

This man is Conner Sedigat, and adorned in a rather expensive business suit he is clearly out of place, not liking the attention he would most likely draw upon him, Conner takes a few moments to concentrate before he wafts his hands over his clothing making his fine clothing to transform and distort under his illusionary powers instead turning into an old raggedy looking flannel jacket and jeans making him look like the common riff raft that wander about the doomed city. As he steps out of the alleyway Conner is taken off guard as he hears gunshots erupt a few blocks down the road, and after a few minutes of waiting, he eventually hears the hiss of the flare quick to look for it, Conners' body dissipates and appears once more a couple yards forward deciding teleporting would be the fastest way to get to the scene, Conner gets a running start and after a few moments dissipates once more though this time appears in an instant half a football fields length away closer to the scene deciding to investigate Conner peeks his head around the last building and watches as the the huntsman struggles to fend off the gang members though decides to wait as he notices many other figures emerging from the shadows in other directions and watches as they prepare to defend the huntsman.

[Z3r05t4r 855]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.