Two Junior Heroes Meet [Private]

It's broad daylight, Martin thought. It's broad-god-damn-daylight.

Martin, or rather, Wonderboy, stood atop of a small building in Manhattan. Well, one of the smaller buildings in the city, since all of them were pretty damn tall. He chose the right building, though. He needed one he could get off of easily, but also stay out of the view of the civilians below. After all, that's what epic heroes did; stay in the shadows until trouble comes their way. He perched on the edge of the building, looking down into the busy streets. Nothing really interesting was going on. Just people walking around, going about their day. He should be going about his. Martin should've been hanging out with his friends this Saturday afternoon, but, of course, Wonderboy's duty calls. Being a hero isn't easy, but its something he has to do. It's something that he promised himself he would do.

He wanted to do what his dad couldn't do as a police officer, he wanted to rid the streets of crime whenever he could. Wonderboy couldn't do it during the week, because, unfortunately, he had a life, and as a teenager living with his Aunt in Forest Hills, he can't just dress up and go fight crime whenever he wants. He couldn't really do anything after he took up the whole Wonderboy gig, but its all fine, at least he was staying out of trouble.

Trouble. That what he needs right now. He needs something to happen. Manhattan was so peaceful and boring, too peaceful and boring if anything. But, it also housed many opportunities for a younger hero such as himself. If anything happened right now, Martin could stop it, and show that even young heroes can get the job done. Something the people of the world don't seem to understand. People usually undermine younger superheroes, unless they show up as a sidekick, which Martin refused to be. Yes, he was being ignorant, because sidekicks, due to them being around a more experienced, stronger mentor, grow to be even greater heroes in their own right. Maybe one day Martin would find a mentor, but he knew that he would never, ever become a sidekick.

His thoughts were interrupted when the sound of a gunshot reached his ears. Martin's ears rang for a second, as he scrambled atop of the building, looking around to see where the noise was coming from. It took him about a minute to realize that it came from right below him. He knelt down, tapping the side of his high-tech mask and scanning the area. The was a bank, a black pick-up truck in front of it and one of the window were shattered, that had to be the source. He also noticed the truck was pulled up directly to the door, the back end facing it. Then, another gun shot rang through the air, the civilians scattered in response. Martin stood there for a second, assessing the situation. The gunshot was coming from the bank, so that meant that bank was being held up. Which also meant, it was time for him spring into action.

He grinned ear to ear before resetting his mask's optical setting to its default. He stood at the edge of the building before holding his left arm out, his gauntlet revealed. Martin knew he couldn't handle this alone, but he had to, He had to prove a point. Martin knew he was being stubborn, but forget it. He pressed a button on the gauntlet and stretched his hand open, a hook firing out of the wrist and latching onto the edge of the bank's rooftop. He closed his hand, gripping the wire and jumped forward, the wire retracting and pull him toward the building. As he neared it, he yanked his arm back, pulling the hook loose, and allowing him to fall onto the pickup end of the truck. He landed in a roll and onto his feet, staring into the glass door.

It was a bank robbery alright. Right down to the bulky men with the guns and the hostages. One man was pointing a pistol at the bank-teller, commanding her to empty all the registers into several different bags. Apparently, he was yelling, because no one heard Martin land loudly on the truck. Martin stared in the bank, assessing each one of the men. There were four, the man holding the cashier seemingly shorter and skinnier than the rest of his pack, which was made up tall, six feet tall, muscular bald men with shades and all black on. The man on the left had an automatic handgun, and Martin wasn't so good with guns, but he guessed it was an Uzi or something. The man to the far right, stood by the hostages, had an automatic rifle. There was another man next to him, dual-wielding pistols. This guys were heavily armed, but so was Martin.

Here I go.., he thought, pulling two smoke pellet from his utility belt. Quickly and in rapid succession, he made his move. He kicked open the glass door, causing all of the men to turn their attention to the bank's entrance. He threw the smoke bombs, smoke billowing in front of the entrance, obscuring their vision. He rushed in, leaping forward, and pulling out four Wonderdiscs, two in each hand. He launched them at where he though the men were, hoping that he would knock the guns out of their hands.

Unfortunately, his aim was way off. The Wonderdiscs missed all of the targets and hits the wall behind them. "What the hell..?" the leader said, turning away from the bank teller and aiming his pistol in the smoke. His comrades looked on in confusion as the smoke cleared, revealing a crouching Martin. Slowly, Martin rose, his arms at his side as he stared the men down. "Who the hell are you!?" The leader demanded, holding his pistol higher.

"The name's Wonderboy, and I'm here to shut down your little operation." Martin said, pulling out four more Wonderdiscs.

"You're just a kid." The leader said, lowering his gun. He chuckled. "What's a kid going to do?" He muttered, breaking out into a loud laughter. His comrades joining, making an uproar as Martin stood there, embarrassed. They're just shrugging him off, like he's nothing. Martin was infuriated. He launched two Wonderdiscs at the leader, who was too busy laughing to pay attention. One hit his gun dead on, knocking it out of his hand, and the another clipping the side of his face, drawing blood. His comrades stared in awe, as their leader wiped his cheek, staring at his own blood for a bit.

"You little shit," He muttered. "Kill him. KILL HIM!" The leader shouted in anger, and the comrades hesitation obliged. The one with the automatic opened fire first, followed by the one with the Uzi. By the time the leader issued his command, Martin was already running. He ran to the left, sliding behind a row of steel cabinets. Martin came to a halt behind the cabinets, placing his hands over his ears as the sound of bullets slamming against the back of the cabinets and glass shattering sounded throughout the entire building.

Martin sighed. Crap, maybe he couldn't do this alone...

Blanca only heard bad things about cities, crime infested boroughs of filth and decay. All this information came from her grandmother, who never visited a city in her life, but the information gave her a place to look for where her sister ran off to. With the grandeur of crime and villainy, the largest city in America should do just fine. She felt dumb running off to a city with no real way of finding her sister, but with her mother gone, and her grandmother almost completely senile, she needed to find what family she had left.

She boarded a bus heading east, took off after saying good bye to the man who raised her as a daughter. An unending road ran across the unfolding landscape. After a few days the bus rolled to a stop in New York City; the sprawling metropolis refused to expose the secrets it hid to the poor girl. She would need to find someone to help her.

Walking along the crowded sidewalks, Blanca felt the city swallowing her up. Her image within a concrete mosaic no longer stood out; even she could no longer see herself. A bag of clothes bounced off of the seat of her jeans while her lanky form walked in a worn pair of tennis shoes. It did not appear she would take home any awards for fashion during her trek through the streets that sought to expunge her from the collective build up of the city.

Silence drew to an interrupted stop before Blanca. Maybe her grandmother was right. Blanca froze before the bank, while the rushing flow of suited men pushed against her. A mass of people carried the calamity of the robbery into the streets; why would anyone want to stay within a dangerous proximity to a bank robbery? Blanca thought to herself in her steady state.

She closed her eyes and began her movement towards the door. The area before the bank was devoid of any kind of authority figures, but Blanca proceeded to make her way towards the area. Gunfire erupted over her head. She fell to the ground and cowered behind a car; bullets lined the brick wall above her head. She tried her hardest to keep her fingers from trembling at the sound of the environment. No more bullets came at her, even though the sound of gunfire still perminated the area.

With a burst of confidence and courage, Blanca leaped from behind the car and ran up the steps to the bank. With the amount of bullet fire she knew her services would come in handy to any hostages that the robbers may have shot in the skirmish. Entering through the front door put her in the most danger of the room; this was her first time working as a hero, so sensible reasoning under the circumstances would need to develop over time. If she lived of course.

"Boys," The leader said, holding his hand up. The men ceased fire, emptying their clips onto the floor and walking over to the counter top, where a sac laid. Each of them reached into, pulling out magazines and refilling their guns. While they did this, the leader smirked and picked up his gun, the barrel slightly dented from Wonderboy's attack. "Why, kid? Why would you run into a bank full of armed men?"

Martin didn't answer. He stayed put behind the cabinets, searching through his utility belt for tools. He closed his eyes and sighed. How was he going to get close enough to take these guys out? He should have thought of that before charging in here. Now, he had to do everything on the spot. He couldn't release any gases, because he would be hurting the hostages. Then, it came to him. He reached into his utility belt, and pulled out three brown pellets. He forgot to restock on pellets before coming here, another bad move. He slipped one back into the pouch and crushes the other two between his palms, rubbing them together and turning the pellets to dust. Martin held his breath and prepared for his next move.

Suddenly, the bank door swung open, and Martin turned his head. There, a girl was standing there. Standing there. Another person? Another young hero, maybe?

The leader blinked, staring at the girl. "Are you kidding me?" He muttered. "YOU CALLED BACK UP, KID?" He shouted angrily.

Martin knew that he was going to unload on the girl, so quickly, he sprung up and over the cabinet, dashing toward the two men by the hostages. The leader turned to Martin, then back to the girl, then back to Martin. He was confused, having no idea as to what to do now. Two kids had essentially stormed the place, and one of them was attempting to put an end to his back robbery. His comrades wouldn't act unless ordered too, so they just stood there like fools as Martin rushed them. Martin rubbed the power against his entire hand, making sure to get his fingertips. Then, he did something strange. His fingertips not covered in brown dust, he shoved a finger up each of guy's noses. "Didn't see that coming, did ya?" He muttered.

The men inhaled, sucking up the brown powder before stepping back and dropping their guns, thrashing about. The leader and his other comrade were too confused to do anything. Martin kicked away the fallen guns, away from the men, who were now stumbling around, disoriented. The leader stared at his lackeys, then to Martin. "What did you..just do?" He asked.

"Knockout Gas Pellets." Martin replied. He turned to the girl. "Hey, you, help me take this guy out and save these people!" He shouted, pointing to the girl.

"Like hell, kid!" The leader shouted and pointed his gun at Martin, firing a shot. The shot hit Martin directly in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back. Martin howled in pain and grasped his wound, blood trickling out and over his costume.

Meanwhile, the other man held his Uzi up at the girl. "H-Hey," he said, a little shaken. He had just seen his two comrades being taken down by a kid. That just proved he didn't know what kids were capable up. "You oughta leave.."

Martin sat there, mentally cursing at the fact the bullet hit the one place the bullet-proof material was weak. He applied pressure to the wound, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The leader turned away from Martin, muttering something about taking care of him later. The leader turned back to the teller and fired a shot at the ceiling.

"No one told you to stop, fill the bag!"

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Name: Knock Out Gas Pellet
Description: Another set of projectiles used by Wonderboy, and are about the same size as the steel balls, albeit a little smaller. Brown in color, they are designed to explode upon impact. They release a cloud of colorless gas, which is an incapacitating agent. An agent that produces temporary physiological or mental effects, or both, which will render individuals incapable of concentration. This will also enter their nervous system, slowing it down slightly and rendering them unconscious. Wonderboy usually has fifteen of these on him at a time.

Blood shot out from the shoulder of the boy. Even though his best efforts put several of the men on their backs, his best effort failed them. Blanca maneuvered towards the boy, but kept hidden behind a fountain fixture that kept between her and the armed men. It looked like he used some sort of knockout pellets on the men; hopefully they would last long enough to keep them out of the fight.

Debris flew around her, settling on the cracked tile of the ground. It would only be a matter of moments before the armed men came to grab Blanca and the boy, so she needed to make the best of what she could in those few moments. She took a breath and held it deep within her lungs.

She exhaled what could be her last breath and ran over to the downed man. She threw herself towards him, hoping that the motion would knock both of them out of harm's way. Once she felt safe she would begin to try and heal his shoulder wound. When the healing began to take place, Blanca would lift her powers to try and protect the boy's body from any serious harm. Training with animals may not give her the full strength that she needed, but it could not be any worse than getting shot without the barrier she could construct. "Are you feeling any better?"