A conspiracy?

Mirquree was floating ever so slightly off the surface of the top of the bar, observing every single second of the assault made. As John seemed to flee from the scene, Mirquree lifted a small vehicle from a nearby lot and shot deep into the alley towards the spiked man.
With the blind telekinetic shot, Mirquree lifted himself from the roof and levitated down onto the lower alley shooting blind non-stop rocks into the assassin’s direction, keeping a massive part of roof shingle in front of himself in hopes of physical retaliation.

Bushido laid in bed, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, wearing nothing but his jeans and his necklace. It wasn't really a great view, considering the ceiling was cracked, stained and overall just disgusting. How do you stain a ceiling? He wondered, closing his eyes to avoid further offending his senses. This place was not enjoyable to live in, and while Bushido had lived in worse, he hadn't gone this low in years. I've been spoiled! He thought, appalled at his own stuck up behavior. He promised himself that he would get used to it and learn to stay away from the posh lifestyle he had come to know as the adopted son of Japanese mob boss. Looking back up at the ceiling, Bushido spotted a strange, mark. Upon more detailed inspection he realized that something was leaking from the floor above him. Fuck this. He thought, not wanting to find out the origin of the mystery liquid. He put his black button up shirt over his bare chest, not bothering to close it up, hooked his swords to his belt, and hurried out of the apartment.

Bushido didn't know where to go, so he just wandered around. It was pretty dark, and at this point the shady characters started prowling around. He got numerous suspicious looks, and Bushido knew he was considered for at least 3 muggings, one of which was actually acted upon. The would-be mugger was now in 2 separate trash cans, repainting their contents red. He continued to wander, just looking for anything to catch his eye, when he stumbled upon a familiar site. His necklace burned against his chest, and Bushido recognized this street as the neighborhood he grew up in. Walking slowly along the sidewalk, he stopped in front of a house, afraid to look up at it. When he finally grew the courage to face it, fell to his knees with despair. The house was burned to the ground. Bushido shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. This couldn't be, it just couldn't. He turned around and ran in a random direction, refusing to face the truth.

Bushido had no idea how long he had run for, but he only stopped when he was physically unable to continue running. He collapsed on the floor, gasping for air, sweating like a pig. If anyone found his appearance strange, they didn't say. The people on the street walked by him without a word. When he finally caught his breath, he looked up, realizing he was in front of a bar. This was the perfect place to drown out his troubles. He was about to go in when he heard the sound of a scuffle down the street. This was just what he needed, something to loosen him up. Bushido gripped the hilts of his swords and approached the sounds.

Suddenly a dude came running at Bushido like a bat outta hell. He was obviously trying to escape whatever the source of the sounds was. "Hey! Bushido called, holding his arms out to signal for the man to stop, "Whats all this? What are you running from?" He looked into the man's eyes, realizing that the guy was drunk, and sighed hoping he was sober enough to make a coherent explanation.

Derek sat on a bench on the sidewalk next to a bus stop sign. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, or why he was sitting at this specific bus stop, but it had been a long day for the young superhero, and he thought he deserved the little break. Besides, it was now just getting dark, which meant the longest part of his day has still yet to come. He was leaning forward resting both of his elbows comfortably on his knees, with his hands folded together. A freshly sparked joint hang loosely from his lips as he relaxed, letting the cool breeze rush through his air. Derek was clearly in a crummy neighborhood. He kept his eyes sealed shut as he puffed from his joint, but he made sure he was more then aware of his surrounding. He knew about the group of thugs up the street who were eyeing him down, and the homeless man in the ally in front of him, but he didn’t move from his comfortable position, and kept burning his joint down. In this neighborhood; He knew someone would confront him at some point, so he enjoyed the time he had.

It wasn’t much longer til’ Derek’s eyes shot open at the sound of gun fire. It wasn’t coming from far. The gun shot came from just down the street near one of Derek’s favorite bars. Which only reminded Derek how nice a drink would have been to go with his joint. Too bad he didn’t have any cash. ’You’d figure people would give back to the 'heroes' who save their lives…Man not getting paid for this job is lame...’ Derek mumbled to himself with a grunt. He then remembered what caught his attention in the first place, and stopped letting his mind ramble. Derek stood up from the bench, and took a another puff then he started running towards the bar.

With his speed, he made it there in a couple of seconds. When he arrived, he saw one guy running away from something. It didn’t take long to notice the gun wound on his thigh, but before Derek could help the guy out, someone else attempted to flag him down. Since that seemed to be taken care of, Derek decided the next best thing he could do was to go after who ever shot the guy. So he turned the opposite direction from where John was running. He started walking across the street so he could take a peek down the ally, when out of no where a car launched over his head into the one of the alleys. Derek instinctively dropped to one knee, and looked down at the ground with huge disappointment. At some point when he was ducking form the car, what was left of his joint fell from his mouth and landed in a small puddle of water. ”Ah, that’s not cool.” Derek said with a dull expression before he then stood up and adapted to his new situation. The first thing he did was look down the ally to make sure his suspect was alright. He may of been the villain here, but not everyone can survive being splattered by a car, and Derek wasn't into the whole killing thing. Once he noticed that he was able to duck the car, and was standing there in shock for a moment, Derek turned around again, to face the man levitating in the air. Derek glared at him viciously with his light blue eyes, but Mirquree ignored him at first and kept randomly firing clumps of rocks and debris into the ally. Derek slammed his forearms together to shield himself for all the bits and pieces of rubble from hitting him in the face. Then once there was a break between fire Derek pulled his forearms apart and looked back up at the questionable hero in front of him. ”Hey punk! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Derek shouted more then loud enough for Mirquree to hear. At this point Derek wasn’t sure what was going on. At first he though it was a simple shooting, but now…it could be anything.

The disgruntled yell of a man shot through Mirquree’s ears. He looked over in the Derek's direction for a second.
“Justice.” Mirquree said with a fierce face as he lifted bricks from rubble nearby the kneeling man's feet and shoots them blindly towards his foe.

The thought of escaping entered into Mirquree’s mind. This one worried Mirquree, the cockiness the assassin has in his face doesn’t sit well with him at all. The telepath's gut is telling him to flee but his mind demands that he stays and stops him, or the very least slow him down from his target. Mirquree's strong sense of order comes over his worry and only tells him to work harder but blindly shooting bricks at this guy isn't going to punish him for what he's done, this is a man of experience. This is a man who has secretly wronged others and claimed it as "business." If this man leaves, he will not leave unscathed, Mirquree will make sure of it.

Mirquree broke his standard crossed arms position and lightly landed on his feet from levitating. The persistent telepathic then lifted his arms and motioned for absolute and focused control of his abilities. The sleeves from his straight jacket flung into the air with the motions he made to lift up the remains of the trashed car from behind the progressing assassin and hurl it at his own direction to close in onto the enemy. Mirquree then shot out the massive chunk of roof shingle that he had as protection and followed it with bricks to create an assault coming at him from both sides. The only thing on the psychotic telepath’s mind was “DIE! DIE! DIE!” as he continued to shoot brick after brick towards the assassin.

Bushido let out a frustrated sigh. Babysitting an alcoholic wasn't his idea of "loosening up". Still, there was no reason to just leave the guy their to fend for himself, so he took the drunk's arm, lifting him up and wrapping his arm around him to keep him steady. Bushido looked longingly at the source of the conflict, seeing a vicious battle ensuing. Bricks and other assorted items were flying through the air at a man in a trenchcoat. What the hell did I get myself into? he wondered, smiling at the prospect of getting some serious action. Unfortunately he had to take care of his "buddy" first.

Bushido looked over at the man, thinking about just cutting his losses and ditching him to join the fray. It would be easier, and he would get to have some fun fighting an apparent superhuman. He mulled it over for a moment, before deciding against it. There was no need to be so hasty, the shady trenchcoat assassin would still be there when Bushido was done helping this guy. Bushido reluctantly turned around and began to head towards the bar, half carrying the injured drunk.

As they walked, Bushido decided to try and get more information out of the man. So, he spoke up, trying to get the man's attention. What exactly do you know about the guy who just tried to kill you, and is there any reason why someone would want you dead? He wanted some answers, and was usually able to tell if someone was lying or not using facial cues, tone reading, and body language. Unfortunately this man was drunk, and therefore he couldn't take anything the guy said at face value, even if he was sincere.

Derek fierce glare faded, and his left eyebrow rose when Mirquree replied. ’Justice my ass, looked a lot more like attempted murder to me…’ Derek mumbled to himself as he thought of what he could say back to get him to stop, but before he could actually say anything, Mirquree started lifting up bricks and other clumps of concrete, preparing to start firing at the assassin again. Since Derek was still unsure of the assassin’s ability to take a beaten, he instinctively charged forward to the opening of the ally. When he turned around the corner, the assassin had already started making his way out of the ally, so Derek immediately threw his arm out in front of him and clamped onto assassins throat. ”Don’t move punk!” Derek growled out aggressively trying to scare his opponent enough that he actually wouldn't go anywhere. Even though Derek was still only human, he was very powerful, strong enough to stop the assassin instantly and hold him up in the air by one hand. But when he noticed a trashed car start rising off the ground from in the back of the ally, Derek quickly turned back to face Mirquree who was now standing on the ground outside the ally. Derek’s eyes glared down at Mirquree as he noticed he was completely surrounded by floating bricks and ruble. Derek knew he was surrounded now, and he was now thinking of a way to get the assassin out of here safely. He knew his own strength, and knew an old car and a couple a bricks couldn’t do anything to him, but he was trying to make sure no body got killed tonight.

When Derek realized he was running out of time and had few options left, he went with what his gut told him to do. Derek could have launched himself into the air with the assassin, but he remembered that every time he tried to do that he usually ended breaking more shit then he was trying to save, so Skiba decided to hold his ground and tank through it. Derek gripped tightly onto the assassin’s neck, then slammed him down onto the concrete floor. On impact pieces of the concrete were shattered, sending cracks throughout the ally and into the sidewalk. Derek followed the slam to the ground and landed on one knee. Immediately after he hit the floor, Derek also created a small dome of electricity around him and the assassin, shielding them from all the upcoming projectiles. The lightning dome would be more then sufficient to stop a rusted out car and a couple of bricks so Derek held it there for a few seconds. While safely in the dome, Derek checked on the assassin. He was still breathing but it didn’t seem like he would be moving much for awhile after that slam.

After a few seconds past, and Derek was confident that Mirquree had stopped firing, he released the dome of energy. Skiba then got back to his feet and turned around to face the ‘hero’ he’d most likely be fighting within the next few minutes. Derek could tell that Mirquree only trying to stop the shooter, but the way he was going about it wasn’t the way Derek liked to get the job done. ”I don’t know what your definition of ‘Justice’ is, but murder is pretty far off.” Derek then took a few steps forward, and balled up both of his fists and got into his standard fighting stance. ”Are you ready to stop making a mess of everything or am I gonna’ have to stop you?”

Mirquree listened to every single syllable that Skiba projected from his mouth, another hero that doesn’t see his sense of justice. The kind that will let a badge separate right from wrong, one who isn’t a free-thinker, one who only does what they are told by their butchers and let a corrupt order settle out the criminals. This kind of hero disgusted Mirquree, “An animal should die like an animal,” Mirquree droned as if practiced a thousand times throughout his skull.

The telekinetic then lifted himself slightly off the ground and crossed his arms into his usual position. Sensing the violence emitted from Derek’s threat and valid protection of an enemy, Mirquree picked the car door off of the remains of the vehicle tossed earlier from behind the electric man and aimed precisely at the downed assassin’s throat with it. Mirquree’s eyes widened with patience as his long white hair slowly lifted about with a telekinetic flow, justice was nigh.

The shot to slay the beast was about to be taken when all of the sudden another beast emerges and slams down hard onto the pavement. The stupidity and cockiness within the big dumb hammers face not only said “I didn’t feel a thing” but also said “I CAN’T feel a thing.” Mirquree saw the threat immediately after the animal’s cold, burn stricken voice ripped its way out of his throat with words of immense danger. These were not words of a hero, these were words of a hero-killer, among the lowest of the low. The kind of bastard who seeks a pleasure out of hearing the unusual bloodshed of a savior of any kind, the sick sin that runs deep within any man’s gut.

The shot that would’ve been used to slay the downed mut was now used as an attack towards the new foe. Mirquree hurled the car door violently towards Ivan’s head. Mirquree looks back towards the trashed vehicle as the front top of it flies open. The engine lifted as Mirquree pulled it toward him, disassembling it all at once to force it's components to orbit around him at a vicious speed. Mirquree then looked at Derek knowing that teamwork may have to be required in order to defeat this new bulk of evil.

As Bushido was talking to the man, a woman suddenly jumped down in front of them out of nowhere, threatening to kill them. Bushido looked back to the fight he had been walking away from, and saw that they had some new players as well. He studied his new opponent. The way she carried herself showed that she had amazing skill and balance, but how much could not be discerned at the moment.

Bushido smiled. The newcomer was apparently another one the assassins sent to kill this drunk guy. Whatever the man had done, he made some powerful enemies. Bushido watched carefully as the woman drew a sword and dropped into a fighting stance. I may have bitten off more than can chew, he thought to himself. I can already tell she's a better fighter than me. Bushido drew his twin fangs, praying that the two swords would compensate for his lesser fighting skills. Bushido looked over at the drunk guy. "I hope you can fight in your condition, because if she's as strong as she looks, I wont be able to handle her."[/i]

Bushido hated having to ask the guy he was supposed to be saving for help, but he didn't have alot of options at this point. Without waiting for an answer, he rushed at his foe, hoping to catch her off guard. He swung his right sword at her neck, hoping to prompt her to block upwards, which would leave an opening he could exploit with his left sword. blocking both swords would very difficult, but if the girl was good as she seemed, she would be able to do it. At least it would distract her from the other guy, letting him get his own attack out.

Derek held his stance and kept his eyes fixed on Mirquree as he started to lift himself off the ground. His response only told Derek that he wasn’t on the same side as him. Even if Mirquree called himself a hero, if his idea of justice was killing an already defeated enemy, then Derek wouldn’t consider him a fellow hero. As Mirquree hovered in the sky, his snow white hair began flowing back. It was then that Derek realized he was working up his powers for another attack, but before anything could happen a new comer leaped down from a near by building. When Ivan landed, all the ground within a hundred foot radios shook, and the street around his feet was practically shattered into pieces. Derek had no idea what he was talking about, or what kind of game he was playing, so Skiba just stood there for a moment at the opening of the ally and defended the unconscious assassin. Derek then took a peek behind him to make sure that the assassin was still actually behind him, and that’s when he notice the car door that Mirquree was controlling was heading straight for the assassin’s throat. ”Damnit!” As quickly as he could Derek turned around and charged forward with an attempt to deflect the door, but before he could get his grip on it, it changed its trajectory and flew right past then behind Derek.

When Derek turned around again to face Mirquree and the new guy, he saw Mirquree moved his attention to the real threat, and launched the car door at Ivan. Then during the small window he had, Mirquree began messing around the remains of the car, probably to find some loose parts and then once he found what he was looking for, he looked down at Derek. He didn’t say anything, but Derek knew what the plan was. As much as he didn’t want to, he knew that working with this guy would be the best way to go about this situation. So far, two assassins came out of no where and have been trying to kill people, which meant more could be on the way or even already making there move. Derek knew he had to deal with this new guy quickly, then start making a plan, so he looked back Mirquree and nodded. ”I’ll help you deal with this guy, but I ain’t letting you kill anybody.” Derek stated as he took a few steps forward out of the ally, and directed his attention towards Ivan. Once Derek was a safe distance away from the ally, he stop walking. Then Skiba stretched out one arm at a time, and rolled his sleeves up above his elbow. Then Derek cracked his knuckles against each other and got back into his fighting stance, while glaring at Ivan, who now stood tall in the center of the street.

Skiba held out his left arm and signaled for Ivan to bring it, taunting him on. ”Ready whenever you are.” Derek said confidently with a sly smirk on his face.

Derek’s voice rung to Mirquree and with the continued intention of putting the scum down for good, the telepathic didn’t respond in any way. Then the beast started to speak, comparing itself to Mirquree, how they both have blood on their hands, how they are similar. With every word the beast roughs out of its throat, Mirquree grows more and more disgusted. Both the sadist and the hero fails to see that Mirquree doesn’t kill for pleasure or sport, he kills to save, keeping these animals alive will only grant them the ability to kill again. Though disgusted and misunderstood, Mirquree saw how this thing tore right through the grip of his telekinesis on the car door, he would definitely need some help to put this mut down. His strong one-sided sense of justice would have to be put on hold for now to get out of this situation alive.

With little choice, Mirquree looked towards Derek once again and muttered out, “fine.” as a car door was sent flying straight for Mirquree. With all focus on getting the hell away from the projectile’s direction, Mirquree dashed down towards the ground at full speed with his feet hitting the ground. The metal parts of the engine flew down as he fell because of the lack of focus on them but with a quick lift of the arm immediately after the land Mirquree stopped the pieces of metal in midair and readied a shot towards Ivan’s smug face. While the beast charged towards Derek fists first, Mirquree spitted out towards Ivan, “You’ll never be anything like me.” As he then shot multiple pieces of engine towards his face with immense speed, a single piece at a time.

When Bushido swung his second sword at the female assassin, she was able to block it with her hand. This is bad... He worried. She's tougher than she looks! Bushido watched as she used her speed to aim a kick at his stomach, which she quickly redirected once she saw the drunk's incoming attack. Bushido's fighting skills meant he was able to dodge the attack, but only barely, meaning a counter attack was out of the question. the woman backflipped behind the drunk man and spat out some dumb banter. Bushido observed as her wound healed before his eyes. A healing factor... that might be a problem.

Bushido decided to give ranged combat a try.He whipped out his modified gun, firing 4 shots passed his companion and at the assassin. He hoped that his bullets would counteract his adversary's healing factor. The bullets flew through the air at high speeds, the superheated metal homing in on their target. Meanwhile, Bushido ran around the drunk guy to get a better angle and maybe fire more shots.