Arrival in New York City (Open)

It had been only two years since the young man had fled Russia after what had happened. It would puzzle some to realize that he missed that life but at least then he had someone to talk to; to share his life with and he was gone. Buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the slums Grozny, Russia. The only remnants of his past life were in the rugged rucksack he had slung over his shoulder. Today would mark his first day in the United States and it was nothing like the violent streets he was raised on. Well, not on the outside at least. He made his way around the city slowly his oddly colored almost innocent eyes swirling around in awe.

Despite his relatively short stay in the city Hunter managed to pick up commonly used words and phrases; working them around to form short but very bad sentences. It amazed him how the people within the city could be so angry all the time with such beautiful buildings and a mixture of culture. No one talked to each-other, no one was polite and no one attempted to help the numerous vagrants that wandered about begging for spare change. Where he was from if somebody needed aid someone would go out of their way to help them and they would be treated like family. Every one that he passed held up a different sign but unfortunately he was unable to read it as the symbols that they called letters seemed like nothing more than gibberish. Hunter turned down another long and very occupied street when he inhaled the air and smelled the numerous foods that had been cooking. Without hesitation he turned into a random restaurant and made his way to the back of the short line.

At the front there was an older man which greeted him with a hello and Hunter returned it with only a nod, his eyes focused on the extremely low prices. (He's still thinking in rubles) He ordered a meal for dine in and when the receipt was typed and the food cooked Hunter reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet handing the owner a 5000 ruble bank note. Upon receiving it the man crushed it in his hand and began shouting at him, "I tell my guys to cook you some food and all you give me is fucking monopoly money?" he crushed the note and threw it right back into Hunters bewildered face, "This is bullshit!" The man must have had an extremely bad day because despite the attempts made to apologize he continued berating the young man with insults and curse words which he just couldn't understand so in frustration he began arguing back the only way he knew how,

"Pochemu vy na menya krichatʹ ? YA nichego plohogo ne sdelal ! " (Why are you yelling at me? I've done nothing wrong!)

In a fit of rage the Russian slammed his fist against the counter, causing a loud and powerful explosion to shatter it and rattle everything else in the establishment. It took only a second for him to realize the severity of what he had done and the fabric that covered his left forearm was blown apart. Much to his surprise the room was silent but when he raised his hand again in an attempt to explain people began to shout and pour through the doors, careful to avoid the dangerous man who just blew apart the front counter.

(Can I join this?)

(go ahead )

The shady roadside restaurant in downtown New York was one of Mars’ favorite places to meet his contacts. The busy, chaotic environment was perfect for cash and weapons drops. Mars relaxed in the back of the establishment keeping a vigilant eye on all of the people around him. He was wearing a simple black hooded jacket, white tee shirt and dark blue straight legged jeans. His last meet had left him with a blue backpack with 250,000 dollars inside. The current state of the world made his business quite profitable. The mercenary smiled as he finished his food pushing the plate away and stood up to leave. He reached down grabbing the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

As Mars turned to leave a thundering explosion shook the building. The panicked patrons were screaming as they were evacuating the building. Mars’ hand instinctively shot to the M9 pistol under his left arm, as he scanned the area for the source. At the front of the building was a kid standing in front of a scorched section of the pickup counter. The kid who looked to be about in his late teens had his hands raised and was trying to apologize. Unfortunately he was speaking what Mars believed to be Russian, and the man behind the counter looked like he hardly had a grasp on how to use the English language let alone Russian.

Taking his hand off his pistol Mars walked quickly to the front of the restaurant. Pulling some cash from the bag on his back he placed it on the counter. “What the fuck is this” the man shouted from behind the counter picking up the handful of cash that amounted to about five hundred dollars and waved it in Mars’ face. “This foreign asshole destroyed half of my restaurant.”

Mars raised an eyebrow and eyebrow and pushed the man’s hand out of his face. “Well, I was trying to be nice, but if you want to be a dick I could always kill you.” Mars stated calmly as he watched the man’s demeanor changed from angry to quiet in a matter of seconds. "That’s what I thought.” He said as he turned to the young Russian man. Raising his hand Mars motioned for the man to follow him. “Let’s go kid.” he said calmed walking toward the exit. “I’m sure the police are already on their way.”

In the midst of the turmoil the boy was approached by a very calm looking african american man. After a brief exchange with the owner of the restaurant he removed a stack of green paper from a blue pack and dumped it onto the table. He couldn't quite understand what they said but he managed to pick up the curse words as they were the most commonly shouted things throughout the city.

The calmer man shifted his gaze to him and Hunter instinctively took a step back once he raised his hand, but seemed to relax once he realized what he was trying to do. He wanted Hunter to follow him, "Let's go kid" he said while he made his way to the front door, "I'm sure the police are on their way." If there was only one word that he could understand, it was police. If he were to be caught and arrested he would be deported back to Russia and he had no intention of going to prison for murder.

With a curt nod the boy followed the unknown man to the door and made an attempt to speak, enunciating almost every letter, "Where to go now?"

Mars stepped outside of the restaurant, his demeanor unchanged. He calmly and quickly scanned the area no signs of life everyone must have cleared out after they heard the explosion. Good no witnesses to tip the police off when they inevitable arrived.

"Where to go now?" he heard from behind him. Glancing backward he swathe kid who had caused the explosion standing behind him on the sidewalk just outside the restaurants entrance. Since Mars frequented this establishment he had long since established multiple escape routes for a situation just as this. Walking around the side of the building Mars walking into the alley.

Looking over to the Russian kid he pointed to a fire escape that led to the top of the building. “Up.” He said jumping upward grabbing the ladder and pulling himself up onto the platform and then continuing toward the top of the building. The sound of the tapping of his feet on the metal grating that made up the suspended platform of the fire escape was soon drowned out by the sound of police sirens in the distance. Mars decided that he had no desire to fight the NYPD, and he sped up his ascent.

Once his feet were on the roof he started sprinting across the roof and jumping across to the next building. Looking back, Mars hoped that the kid could keep up; he also hoped that they could get far enough away from the restaurant before the police called in backup. Turning back he came up to the next ledge of the building. Leaping forward he drew his legs up toward his chest; he cleared the jump and landed in a roll on the next building and broke back into his sprint. Seeing the sun draw closer to the horizon he smiled knowing the darker it got the better chance they had of getting away.

Soon after they stepped outside the man turned into the nearby alleyway and pointed to the fire escape, "Up" before he leaped into the air, grabbed the railing and pulled himself up. Hunter didn't quite understand the word but the action was all that he needed to draw from context.

With a heavy sigh, Hunter stepped back and since he wasn't the best climber out there he had to improvise. Suddenly he made a sprint for the opposite wall and planted his foot against against it, the force causing yet another explosion that rocketed him into the air and onto the roof that the fire escape lead up to. The wall he kicked off of suffered minimal damage by his standards; a few bricks blown in and some minor strain marks. It was nothing too serious.

The force generated was just enough for him to reach the top where he waited for the other mans instruction. He seemed like he had done something like this before since he jumped from one roof to another without hesitation. He tucked his legs and rolled once he reached the bottom to spread the force evenly but since his own powers reacted to force while angry, scared or stressed he didn't know what to do. For all he knew he would blast a hole in the roof of every building he landed on.

When the sirens were within earshot all doubt he had vanished in an instant and without a second thought the boy copied the actions laid out before him in this high risk game of follow-the-leader. Once he landed on the opposite building in an attempt to copy the roll he instead took a rather ungraceful dive and ended up scraping the skin off of his elbow. Hissing he stood up and realized something great; no explosion. So his powers must react to emotional stimuli along with physical e.g. fear, anger, and stress. They were extremely negative but none of them applied at the moment. for the first time in a while he was happy that he didn't destroy something by applying too much pressure.

He repeated the same jump and continued following the other man across the rooftops, eventually catching up but still staying roughly ten feet behind just in case there was a sudden stop or change of plans. Hunter noticed the smile creep onto his lips and he asked, "How are you called?"

Mars looked back impressed that the kid was able to keep up with his pace. "How are you called?" Mars heard from behind him as he slowed down come to a stop at the ledge of the roof they were currently on. Looking down from the roof to the street he saw a police cruiser pass by heading back the direction they had just come from. Looking further down the street he could see the flashing lights of the units that had responded to their disturbance. They had gone far enough, looking over the edge of the building again he looked for a quick way down.

“Mars.” He said glancing back toward the boy behind him. Stepping off of the roof Mars turned his body quickly and grabbed hold off a drain pipe that ran from the roof of the building down to the street. Swiftly and silently he slid down from the roof to the ground. The alley was dark and trash littered the ground. Inspecting the surrounding area he walked out from the alley when he was satisfied that no one was watching them. Mars walked down the sidewalk adjusting the bag filled with cash that was slung over his back. Keeping his head down and staying casual he made himself blend in with the rest of the pedestrians.

Even though he was keeping his head down Mars kept his eyes open and was focused on his surroundings. After going a few blocks he spotted a dive bar on one of the corners across the street. Signaling for the boy to follow him he crossed the street and came up toward the bar. As he approached the door he couldn’t help but wonder why he was doing this. What had possessed him to help out this kid the way he was? Normally he would just pass the buck in a situation like this. Maybe I’m just bored. He thought shrugging as he pushed open the door to the bar. Once the door was open he was immediately hit in the face with a wall of smoke. His nostrils twitched as the smoke invaded them. He had never been a smoker and the scent of things always burnt his nose. Nevertheless this was the best place to lay low for the time being. Mars walked through the bar past the patrons; most of who looked has though they had been in there for days. Mars took a seat at a table in the corner of the bar in a spot where he could see anyone that came into the bar.

Hunter opened his mouth to give his own name in return but the man he now knows as Mars dropped off of the building and slid down the railing to blend in with the crowd. With another sigh he did the same and slid down to ground level without incident and followed him through the alley and into the large group of people. He had never been able to evade the police like that before and the way Mars did it with such ease was amazing. Maybe he just helped because he had a power too. Or maybe he wanted something to occupy his time. No matter the reason, Hunter owed him.

He followed the man to a dive bar and noticed the familiar signal to follow. Once the door opened his sense of smell was overwhelmed with the scent of low quality cigarettes. Because of the adrenaline that pumped through his veins from the earlier events his usual nicotine cravings kicked in. With swift fingers he lifted a pack of cigarettes from one of the tables and took the seat opposite Mars.

With the pack of stolen cigarettes in hand he popped one into his mouth and placed the tip of his index finger against the front of it, "Watch this." Hunter smiled slightly and swiftly slid the finger down and a quick snap was heard but quickly drowned out by the noise. The young man then took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. Out of courtesy he offered a cigarette to Mars. If he refused he would simply drop the pack back onto the table he took it from.

The kid sat across from Mars and opened the pack of cigarettes that the boy had lifted off of one of the tables on his way in. “Watch this.” he said as he placed one of the cigarettes in his mouth and lit it by placing his finger to the tip of the cigarette. Mars raised his eyebrow it was an interesting trick. Mars really was interested to see the extent of the kid’s powers. The Young Russian man extended his arm and held out the stolen pack of cigarettes to offer one to Mars.

Mars put his hand and shook his head. “No thanks.” He said leaning back into the chair, his eyes fixed on the entrance. Pushing away from the table he left the kid there. Walking up to the bar he ordered a couple beers. It would make them look liked the belonged, he thought that the two of them looked too suspicious just sitting in the corner. Mars watched the bar tender reach under the bar and bring up the two beverages. Mars leaned forward onto the bar and scoped out the patrons that sat staring up at a small television that was mounted on the wall behind the bar. He looked for anyone that looked suspicious. It really was a force of habit. Taking the beers on the bar Mars thanked the man and left a handful of bill on the counter.

Mars walked across the room back to his table in the corner. Placing one of the bottles in front of the kid at the table he sat back in his seat. Mars brought the bottle up to his mouth and took a sip of this beer. The alcohol really didn’t really have much effect on him anymore, due to his body being resistance to most poisons. He did enjoy the taste though, it reminded him of his past back when things were less complicated and he wasn’t hiding out from the police, in a shit hole bar, with super powered Russian kids, and a bag full of money slung over his shoulder. “So, what’s you name kid.” He asked looking up to the young man and taking another swig from the bottle in his hand.

Hunter shrugged when Mars declined one of the smokes and he tossed it in between his hands a couple of times. He quickly scanned the inside and counted about seven cigarettes left in total. Since he didn't have any of his own he pulled three more out and tucked them into the inside of his hoodie where he had sewn in several pockets for keeping things that he wanted to stay close.

Once Mars stood and went to the bar Hunters eyes began wandering until they landed on the table from where he took the package of smokes. Nonchalantly he tossed the pack over and it slapped against the hardwood while its owner was looking the other way. He didn't even notice that they were gone. While he waited the young man just listened to the people around him; taking in the words he didn't know and attempted to put them into context. Unfortunately most of what he picked up was slang but it was still enough to form basic sentences.

When the man returned from the bar he was holding two bottles of beer, one of which was set in front of him, "Thank you." with that he took the cigarette from his mouth and took a quick swig of the beer. It was bitter, but still enjoyable. He alternated between drags on the smoke and drinks from the bottle until Mars spoke once again, "So what's your name Kid?" to which he replied, "Hanter Kieve." (Americanized as Hunter Kieff) "Thank you for getting me from there."

Taking a sip from his beer, Mars watched the door from across the table. His out of the corner of his eye he watched the kid take a drink from his own beer and then answer his question. “Hunter Kieve” he said looking at Mars who’s was
still scoping out the bar. "Thank you for getting me from there." Mars took his gaze away from his surroundings and brought it back to Hunter.

“No problem." He said waving it off and finishing his beer and placing the empty bottle down on the table. Mars flicked his eyes back to the door as he saw it start to open. He tensed up being ready for anything that could happen. He relaxed a little when he saw it was just another patron, and from the reaction of the other people in the bar he assumed that the man was a regular. As the door swung closed he saw a police cruiser roll past slowly.

Mars tensed slightly as he watched the car continue without stopping. Turning his attention back to Hunter, he looked at him for a second without saying anything. “So what are your powers exactly?” he asked. “And what’s up with you blowing up the restaurant?” He chuckled asked only half expecting an answer since he knew that the kid really didn’t speak English.

Hunter noticed when Mars tensed up when to door opened and another cop car rolled by but they had no real reason to come bust up the place. They had no way of following the two to the bar; they got away fairly quickly and with no real hiccups. He made an attempt to take another drink from the bottle but it was empty so he simply returned to his half burned cigarette when he heard Mars speak, "So what are your powers exactly, and what's up with you blowing up the restaurant?"

The question was rather simple to answer, but he was still ashamed about the fact that he didn't have full control over his powers and as a result; destroyed something. The boy looked away and exhaled the smoke, "Powers?" he repeated, "When I put..." he paused, fishing for the right word, "...Force? Yes, force! When I put force on something the, erm... Energy generated on the way is forced out from the point of contact. My hand slammed onto the table and because of that the energy exited it. An explosion. So if I fall from the top of building the, uh, kinetic energy would let me make an opposite reaction that lets me land without harm. In order to make the explosion I must have kinetic energy and something to rub up against or touch. No movement, no friction, no explosion."

He finished the cigarette and placed the but on the table as an example, "Watch." Hunter took his right hand and flicked the butt. Upon contact a rather loud snap echoed through the bar and what was left behind of the butt was pieces of burnt filter, "But if I added more force by swinging my arm along with the flick there would be nothing left."