Characters in Scene (in Order of Appearance):
- Valari
- Huntress
- Phobia
Late evening. The sun has long since set, and the sity is finally starting to settle down for the night. Well, except for those areas where the night clubs and bars are clustered together. Moving quickly through the quieter streets of the Gotham business district is a lone motorcycle rider, the black of the bike and near-black of the rider's garb not all that unusual. However, the cape trailing behind the rider IS noteworthy, as is the normally-concealed quiver of crossbow bolts attached to the back of the rider's belt.
It isn't far away that a beat up old VW van, it's rear windows blackened and aweful yellow and green paintjob rusting, sits a few dozen meters tucked into a dark alleyway between a nightclub and a bank. The lower rear panel is open and a man in a hoody is kneeling there seemingly working on a motor. He has an oilcloth on the ground behind him and spread across it a set of very expensive looking tools.. sort of at odds with the junkheap he seems to be working on.
Huntress turns a corner and accelerates down another street, likely going WAY faster than the posted speed limit. The snarl of her Ducati washes through the alleyway housing the beat up old VW and its mechanic like a slow-moving jet and is gone again within seconds... though in reality, she slows at the next intersection and pulls into a similar alleyway.
Valari frowns and looks up as the ducati passes and the headlights for a moment illuminate the strange face which is hidden in the shadows of the black hoody. A face that is like hemotite, dark silver, with brighter silver eyes that have gold almost glowing pupils. real gold and silver. And then she has passed and his face is still in shadow but the gold pupils still seem to retain light. The figure shrugs and goes back to doing what he is doing... unaware that three shadows have peeled themeslves from a doorway at the back of the club and are walking towards him as he works.
Enter another black clad figure. My. Aren't they numerous in Gotham? Cape fluttering faintly behind her, Phobia walks slowly, eyes moving here and there, windows of apartments, the front of dance clubs, the darkness of alley-ways; looking. The roar of the motorbike draws her gaze. The reflective gold pupils retaining the light keep her attention. Her head tilts her head and makes her was toward the shadows near him, curious.
Huntress parks and conceals her motorcycle with the care and skill of much practice, then takes to the rooftop of the shorter of the two buildings she's currently standing between. She's as of yet unaware of the presence of the other black-clad figure or that there are odd shadows near that old rustbucket of a VW.
The Trio of shadows, three young and rather looking gangers, waltze up behind the hoody man and one of them chuckles. "Wow, what a peice of junk." he states, his friends shaking their heads and joining their leader for a laugh. Hoodyguy doesn't even seem to notice them, or maybe doesn't care, just continuing to work on the engine... Which seems to make the guy a bit angry. "Didn't ya hear me me, dude? Your ride is a peice of crap!" He then kicks at some of the tools, spreading them across the alley. This DOES get hoody's attention, the lithe shape slowly rising.. "Oh ho, did we make you angry?" one of the other gangers taunts and the third, beffiest places a hand on hoody's shoulder. "Maybe we should make him pay a toll, Johnny." he suggests to the leader. "I mean, he IS working on our turf.."
As the trio make themselves known, Phobia slows her steps and settles herself against a wall to watch. She flicks her tongue across her lips as tempers start to flair. Her mind opens to those near by, listening, sensing, for that sweet spike of fear that she can latch onto. Gotham is definitely sitting well with her.
Huntress crosses the rooftop she's on, and with a nifty trick of zipline and gravity ends up on the one adjacent the Alleyway of Busy-ness. She pauses as she hears something, then steps toward the edge to look down at the beat up old VW, its owner, and the three hooligans. Oh HELL no. She silently pulls her crossbow from its holster and in a move somewhat like the Mariachi in the movie Desperado loads a pack of wooden bolts into the weapon, wincing at the faint click as they lock into place. Then the crossbow is aimed down at the three young thugs, ready to ventilate their shoulders if they try anything untoward. If she's thinking 'Do you feel lucky, punk?' she manages to keep it to herself.
Valari doesn't seem to be bothered by the trio, or at least his body language doesn't reveal anything. In fact, other then the fact that he moved, which had an eerie almost mechanical grace, he doesn't seem to have any body langauge. His head turns slightly, as if he is looking at the hand on his shoulder. "I will leave." he says.. or at least maybe it's a he. The voice is.. off.. Almost syntheic in nature.. like it is going through a voxbox with some staticy reverb. "I don't want any trouble." The leader raises a brow, arms crossed, as he regards the back of hoodyguy. "Really? Well you are on Rumbler turf, buddy.. I think that will get ya trouble enough." He seems to not even be looking for a reason to cause trouble, just escalating it for troubles sake. Johnny reaches behind his back and withdraws a gun, solidly pointing it at the back of Hoody's head. "I wouldn't move." click "Stewey, hold him. Vanner, check this jerks pockets.. those tools are nice even if the bus ain't. Bet he has /some/ cash if he can afford em." Stewey, the beefiest, squeezes Hoodyguy's shoulder harder, as if trying tof orce him to his knees as Vanner reaches for the pockets.. But Stewy doesn't seem to be able to force hoody down.. straining. "What the hell? He's resisting, Johnny." he tells his leader.. Who shrugs. "Easier to get money if he's dead, I guess.." and starts pulling the trigger.
Phobia makes a mental count of the psyches she can feel. Out of the lot, the three thugs are the easiest, and so it's Stewey's mind she sinks her claws into. A quick read of his fears and a smirk later, and Phobia lifts her hands from her sides. A mad puppeteer in control of her string-puppet, Stewey suddenly screams in terror and moves to scramble away from Valari, arms flailing.
Valari pages: Valari doesn't register
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Oh HELL no. The moment Huntress sees that pistol levelled at the VW owner's head her course is set. She pops off three bolts in quick succession, one aimed at the forearm of Johnny's gun-hand, a second at the bicep of Stewey as he tries to push the hoodie-wearing man, and ... the F*? As Stewey starts flailing she manages to stop the last bolt from firing, readjusting her aim and then letting it loose at Vanner, planning on only winging the punk to get him away from their intended victim.
One would expect so much commotion and the fact one was about to get ventilated to actually startle someone.. But Stewey's ravings and the scream of both Vanner and Johny seem to have little to no effect... Except that the final nerve impulses in Johnnies arm causes him to squeeze the trigger. The gun isn't execptonatly powerful but it does catch hoody right in the back of the.. hoody. There is a spark as the caliber passes through the hooded head and strike the back of the VW.. breaking out the darkened rear window. The figure staggers foreward.. leaning heavily against the VW but not slumping.. HUnched for a moment, as if lifeless, he begins to Move.. Turning and pulling his hood back. His head is smooth, hairless and reflective like polished, darkened, silver. Both liquid silver eyes are aglow, the gold pupils burning.. In the center of his head is a large hole, showing nothing but a straing neon green on black circuit board pattern beneath the darksilver skin.. skin that is closing. The man lashes out at the screaming Johny.. Arm extending, stretching like some long piston, the 'flesh' breaking up from its silver to that glowing green lines on black circuit board pattern.. The hand reforming like a large 'U' and catching Johny in the throat and pushing him hard into the dumpster.
It's like the nightmares write themselves in Gotham. Phobia may never leave this town. The sight of Valari widen her eyes in morbid wonder and facination. She blankets her mind over the three thugs, assuming the fourth mind she feels belongs to Valari rather than Huntress. To the thug's minds, Valari's visage grows more demonic. And, just to add that soundtrack, Phobia begins to laugh. Dark, cold, psychotic, and to the minds of the thugs, coming from Valari's fang-lined maw.
Huntress simply can't help herself. "Holy SHIT it's a Terminator." She watches for a moment in amazement, and then she hears the cackling. It's NOT the T-1000 down there, so where is it co...oh. There. She sees the black-costumed woman and frowns, squinting a bit as she tries to get a better look at Phobia.
Valari walks towards Johnny, his piston-like arm shortening as he closes in so he can keep the ganger hanging there, strugging and graspingas as he is choked by the mechanical collar pressing him to the dumpster. He stops a few feet short, looking at his target.. looking at the arrow sticking from his targets arm.. The gold pupils turning as if he resolves focus. Then his head turns to the roofs, scanning.. catching the sound of someone's voice and then someone elses laughter... Eyes tracking to those points... He looks right at Huntress... Then Phobia.. then back at the terrified pair of gangers behind him before looking back to Johnny. "I... /WE/ did not want trouble." he tells him in that synthetic voice. "We just wanted to be left alone. We wanted to fix our transportation. You shot us. We should /delete/ you."
The gangsters behind Valari scramble away, hoping to make a break for it since their minds are telling them that Demon-Valari has a small army of face-eating monsters. Phobia steps out of her hidey spot. To the gangsters, she's a more lithe version of Valari. The sucubus to his infernal. She shifts her gaze to the trapped Johnny, syphoning the fear from their minds, savoring it, and stroking more hellish, nightmarish visions for their eyes and their eyes alone. "Command me, Lord. How shall we delete this creature," she questions. Her posh british accent is pitched a little lower than her normal speaking voice, but not so low that Huntress, who has heard Angela Hawkins speak before, won't be able to identify her if she has the mind for those sorts of things. To Johnny and Company, however, Phobia's voice is a near perfect match for a female version of Valari's digital reverb.
Huntress sees the costumed woman step into better view and then hears ... holy crap it's that British chick. "Sonofabitch." Suddenly several clues fall into place to paint a picture.. and she now knows what that odd silvery pin-like thing she picked up the other day is. Seeing that the thugs are all pretty well under control and crazyBritchick down there is now the greater unknown quantity, her aim focuses on Phobia.
Valari watches as Phobia peels off from the shadows, though he only sees her as she really is, not how the others see her. "We are not a Lord. We do not need help deleting this inferior example of humanity." he says, his synthetic voice getting colder as he turns to look at the gasping leader who finally passes out. Now that johny is out cold, the arm retracts, back to it's 'normal' size and color and he turns away from the guy as if he doesn't exist. "It is a waste of energy to delete him." he finally decides, though not sounding as if it is any sign of mercy. "Who are you. And why is the female on the roof above us aiming a crossbow at you?" he asks. He didn't even LOOK up again, did he?
With the other two gangsters making a semi-clean get away, and Johnny passing out, Phobia has little now to feed on. Her elation let down when Valari didn't play along, her crazed grin fades. And then he mentions someone on the roof. She looks up, mind reaching out for another mind, but finding only the 4th mind she had had a lock on and had dismissed. "Who's there," she asks, voice back to normal. A thin line of anxiety quivering her voice. Why can't she feel that other mind?
Huntress figures that once Johnny is down for the count it's safe enough to head for the ground floor. Judicious use of a zip line sees her setting foot on the alley pavement after just a moment or two, right next to one of the expensive looking tools that got scattered at the beginning of this altercation. Smoothly scooping the tool up in her free hand she offers it to T-1000. "I believe this is yours."
Valari looks between the two women, each very different from the other yet somehow to him the same. HIs eyes are intense, as if slicing each woman up layer by layer and reconstructing them in his head.. studying every nuance. When Huntress offers the took he nods and takes it in his semi-reflectibe hand. "We thank you." he states, simply, then looks at Phobia. "We thank you as well." He turns and bends over, starting to gather his tools as if nothing had happened.
Phobia looks between the two, lips parting in confusion. Still only one mind. Frowning, Phobia backs away, and pokes at the mind she can sense. Her green eyes peer between the two of them, wondering which is going to react to tell her which mind she's sensing. Aloud, she murmurs, "You're welcome."
Huntress nods at the Terminator for a moment, taking the time to school her features and NOT react to that really unnerving sensation that's like someone walking on her grave. She pulls something needle-like out of a compartment on her belt and turns to offer it to Phobia. "And I think this is yours."
Valari packs up his gear and closes the engine panel.. but if one looks before he does and know enigines they will see it isn't a VW engine.. but a porche one. HE stops as he is about the get into the vehicle, staring again at the two women as they interact, but then shifts his focus and closes the door. The egine starts, loud and smooth and powerful and within moments he is out of the alley and merging with traffic.. wherever he may roam.
Phobia reaches out to take her knitting needle. It's only when Valari leaves that it becomes clear whose mind she's been feeling. Turning to look at Huntress, Phobia blinks a few times, holding her mind in check. "Yes," she finally says. "It is. Thank you."
Huntress lets Phobia have her knitting needle back. "Well, be careful out here. There are all sorts on these streets." Does her voice twig something in Phobia's memory? Maybe. It's not like she's trying to make her voice sound different. She turns to leave, as she had other reasons for being in this area already, and she has to take a moment to get a police officer to stop by and pick up Johnnyboy over there.
Phobia frowns lightly as the voice tugs at a memory Phobia just can't quite grasp. Hmphing softly with that Brit-Posh sort of way, Phobia steps over the prone body and makes her way back out to the street. Time to head back to her hotel room. She's gotten her fill of fears tonight. "Yes. Mindless robots, deliciously spookable gang members, and you," she states crisp and clear and haughty. "Fare well," she adds as she turns to make her way down the street.
Huntress says, “Yeah. Whatever." She watches Spook Spice walk away then steps over to deal with Johnny, half hoping that the chick doesn't run afoul of the Bat... and half hoping she does. She takes the time to dress the bolt-would on the kid's arm and binds his wrists with a zip-tie while she waits for the police to arrive. "Fun fun. Yay.”
