A Coalition of Minds(Open)

The beautiful city of New Orleans flowed with it's usual vigor. Bourbon Street, the mecca of sin, was ablaze with activity as the various bars and clubs hustled innocents out of their money. But, this was not a trip for pleasure. Dr. Barker guided his wheelchair down the dirty street, headed towards the French Quarter.

Tired of waiting, the good doctor sent a world-wide message to various hero's he had heard of through the grapevine. He was ready to make his move, and attempt to bring forth the beginning of the Era of Peace. But he knew he couldn't fight alone. There were far too many cruel people in the world for him to take on by himself. So, he arranged a meeting at a small bar in the French Quarter. French was not his favorite language, so he ignored the sign as he went in. The bar wasn't as crowded as it usually was. That was perfect. He found a small booth in the far back corner, and seated himself at the table.

A gorgeous blonde waitress approached him with a menu and a small pad. She seemed taken aback by the wheelchair, but his face caught her attention. Barker knew he was good looking. On various occasions, he had used this as an advantage to get what he needed. He smiled up at the waitress, brilliant white teeth accenting his golden eyes.

Why hello, ma'am. I would just like a Dos Equis. And, I would like to ask a favor. I'm expecting a few people to arrive. Would you be so kind as to cordon off this area?

He gestured the area of about 5 booths and tables. He didn't want anyone too close to hear anything. The waitress smiled at him, nodding, and walked off towards the kitchen. Barker laid his head back against the cushion on his wheelchair. His Smith and Wesson Magnums were tucked on either side of him hidden. Even in the City that Never Sleeps, anything could happen. So now, all he could do was wait.

Matt had easily picked up the coded message the Doctor had sent out, thinking it a good opportunity to get his other side in on the action. He quickly tapped in a string of code on his keyboard, unlocking his sanctum and initiating startup protocols on his armor, his chair automatically lifted of its own accord and transported him quickly to the dressing room. Here the chair lifted him up and robotic arms assisted him in first putting on his base armor, donning his advanced additions and finally getting his gadgets in order, he finally stood tall as..

The Gray Mask

He made his way to the pod launch bay, striding confidently in his outfit, his mind slowly slid into the familiar superhero persona as he entered one of his pods and laid down within the tiny, coffin-sized tube of metal, it immediately shot out of the bay at tremendous speeds, wingtips flipping out of the sides and the rockets igniting as it guided him towards the outskirts of New Orleans.

The Pod slammed into the hard packed earth and The Gray Mask stepped out nonchalantly, he quickly made his way to the French Quarter, moving silently from shadow to shadow, making sure he was not see, or heard. He soon made his way up onto the roof of the small dingy bar and cut his way in, sliding down into the seat next to the man before anyone had noticed he was there.

He pulled his hood around his face and pulled his cape about him, hiding his armor, he may have looked suspicious in what looked like a long robe but it was far less attention grabbing than his outfit, he spoke "So what is it you have called this gathering for.." he said quietly in his blank tone, getting right down to business.

Barker simply stared straight as the man spoke. He didn't say a word. Finally, the waitress reappeared, setting his beer down on the table in front of him. She eyed the cloaked man, but walked away, knowing when to stay out. He grabbed the beer and took a long swig. FInally, gasping from relief he spoke calmly and quitely.

I trust by the fact that you could decode my message that you know my position in this. I grow tired of this constant fighting amongst the factions of the world. It's ruining life for everybody, and costing far too many innocent lives. I wish to end all of it. But i cannot do it alone. I've sent the same message to many people across this nation. People that I hope would understand my side and join in the cause.

He took another swig of the beer, deciding to pour a bit of salt into it. He remained silent as the brew bubbled and fizzed. Finally, the waitress returned with two platters of half-shelled oysters. On the house, boys. Enjoy. She walked off as Barker grabbed on of the oyster's, slurping it down.

I do love the food of New Orleans. Such culture behind it all, don't you think?

The Gray Mask regarded the man as his suits automated systems were already transferring information to the computers back at the lab, already putting together a psychological profile, from what he could glean from what little he had seen of the man, plus the military profiles which were quickly flitting past his HUD the man was a natural born leader, though he seemed to rebel against authority, perhaps the reason why he had left the military.

The Gray Mask put the profiles to the side and focused on the situation at hand, sizing the man up he finally spoke again after he had taken down the oyster and had a moment for it to settle "You are quit calm and comfortable for a man meeting strangers.." he said slowly, gauging the mans response, checking through his enhanced senses he found the man possessed firearms on his person, he spoke again "You have hidden thorns, expecting trouble then.." He surveyed the bar slowly, finding no signs of others with ill intent upon them.

He shifted towards the man slightly "I apologize, I didn't address anything you had said, first of all i'd like a bit more explanation on your plans, and yes, the food here is quite good, but you'll excuse me for not partaking.." he finished in his blank tone.

New Orleans...a grand old city, wasn't she? It was one of the few cities in the world to still have its unique culture. That culture, obviously, was not as prevalent as it had been many years before, but it was still there. Why was she there, however? She had received a message, a coded message; she didn't show it often, but she enjoyed challenges, even if they were somewhat simplistic. It had not taken her too much work to figure out what the message actually said, and then she had to make a choice; go to New Orleans, or ignore it? Obviously the latter was her first instinct to do; she didn't like crowds, and it seemed to her that if anyone else got this message, it would attract quite a crowd. On the other hand, what was she really accomplishing by slinking about, by not getting to know any of the other superheros?

She, herself, wasn't that great of a superhero; she was willing to go to the extreme to see justice get done, so in that sense, she was more of an anti-hero. Still, she was essentially good, and it hadn't taken her much thought to decide to see what the message was all about. It wasn't too difficult to travel to the city, not when you had more intelligence than most people surrounding you; it had been easy to spin a good enough lie to get people to sympathize with her and help her on the way to New Orleans. So now she was in the city, and she knew where she had to go; the French Quarter. She moved swiftly through the streets, one moment she was in the line of sight of some people, then the next she was gone; she was too fast for them to keep up with her. The French Quarter was reached soon enough, and she spotted something a tad odd; a man in a wheelchair, though that wasn't odd in today's society, and another man in what looked like a long robe. No, not a robe; it was simply his cape, drawn about him; she could see the subtle differences between a cape being wrapped around someone and a robe, after all.

"Lots of culture, yes. Behind the food, and the city itself," she said to the bald man as she approached, eyeing the food he was slurping down; she didn't much care for seafood. The child kept her arms to her sides as she approached, her cloak drawn around her in a similar fashion to what the other man's cape was doing for him, albeit hers was done with greater effect since cloaks resembled robes in many ways. "Greetings, to both of you," she added once she was closer, glancing at the man, the one not in a wheelchair; how was he able to tell the one in a wheelchair had weapons? That was the only thing the phrase could mean, coupled with the way he let his words drift off. "And of course he'd be calm and comfortable. He chose to send out the message, after all. I would like to know more too, however." were the last words the young girl said before growing silent. How would the two older men react to her? She didn't know, and frankly, didn't care all that much.

Years of military service have taught me that remaining calm in any given situation is key to survival. As for my "thorns" I have also learned that anything can happen within a split second. Tell me, have you ever been ordered to kill innocent people? Women and children who have done no wrong, though they are punished all the same?

He downed the rest of his beer, swallowing another oyster. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and intertwining his hands.

Greetings to you, ma'am. My plans are simple. I hope I am not the only one who has noticed the influx of evil within the world? All around, citites are crumbling under the oppressive grasp of those such as Project Perfection. I believe that a group of like-minded people with the purest of intentions is required to eliminate the threats that these people pose. I imagine you've heard of The Harbingers? While their goals are similar to mine, they go about it in a.....less that agreeable manner. My wish is to assemble a special force that will lead this broken world into a new era. By uniting the people, not only those with unique abilities, but everybody, I believe we can dethrone the tyrantical powers and free the world from their hold.

The waitress sat another Dos Equis in front of him, and he salted it, letting it sit to fizz.

As for right now, we wait to see if anyone else decides to answer my call.

The Gray Mask chuckled slightly, barely audible, it was more for effect than something he actually found funny, psychologically he knew it kept him apart from the others, helped his mystique, made him seem slightly more authoritative and serious and thats the way he wanted it "You say we need action, then you say we need to wait he chuckled once more "Im sorry, I understand the need, just seems a little ironic is all" he finished smoothly, he was waiting for things to get more into motion before he gave the man a concrete answer.

He regarded the small, cloaked young woman in front of him, his readings told him she was young, her hormone levels indicating pre-pubescence, but her fluid movements told him her skill, he wondered at her for a moment before addressing her "and what do you bring to the table young lady? Surely this is no place for a child" he said, hoping his jibe would incite an explanation from her

Anything could happen...yes, that was true enough. The man might be in a wheelchair, but that didn't negate him from being in a fight. He surely had weapons somewhere on him, if the other man with them was any indication. She wondered again how he was able to tell that the man in a wheelchair had weapons. She certainly couldn't see them, even with her enhanced eyesight, her enhanced senses, really; where were these weapons that the man seemed to know were there? That wasn't important right then though; focusing on the one in a wheelchair was. She found it was a bit funny that he had addressed her as ma'am, since she wasn't nearly old enough to be addressed as that at all; perhaps he was just plain polite to everyone.

She listened as he explained about the influx of evil in the world; it was hard not to notice, when you were one of the ones fighting against it, at times. He wanted to make a group that would usher in a new era of peace. One similar to the Harbingers, but not quite extreme. She didn't know how she felt about that, mostly because she herself was willing to go to extremes. If she did join the group, what would happen if she ever showed those extremes to others in the group? But she was getting ahead of herself. She hardly knew the other two, after all, and she was already seriously considering the idea. Trust went a long way when it came to organizations like the one the man in the wheelchair was talking about. "It isn't a place for an ordinary child. I have no doubt that you know I'm not ordinary," she stated; perhaps she was getting ahead of herself, getting too cocky. It wasn't as if she were famous after all, especially not in the city of New Orleans; sure, some people might know of her, but probably not a ton.

"For instance, I bet I could clear this whole place of people before they even knew what was happening." she added. She would, of course, not do that. Not only because it was pointless, but because despite her hard stance on things, she couldn't injure people that were innocent.

He smiled at the child. Her innocent appearance was merely that, an appearance. But, it couldn't help but incite painful memories of his time in service.

I know you are no ordinary child. No ordinary child coul have decyphered my message.

He leaned further back, feeling the distinctive bump of the hidden ACR-5 in the back of his chair. It was perfect for 360 fighting, shooting .45 rounds. It was one of his crowning accomplishments. He grabbed the beer, downing it, and set the empty bottle beside his now empty platter of oyster shells.

Listening intently, he heard the constant chatter of bar life. No one paid any mind to the odd group in the back. They all went about their lifes happily. Which was why New Orleans was ideal for this meeting. No one ever asked questions.

Suddenly, a silent figure slipped in through the doorway. He glided past the crowd, though kept his distance from the group. He took a seat, back facing them. But Barker knew what this was. He'd used this very tactic many time. Without a word, he looked the Mask directly in the face, then pointed his eyes toward's the figure. He grasped the gun hidden in the groove of his chair, not quite yet revealing it.

Silent Figure Grid

The Gray Mask grinned at this new turn of events, The Doctors nod towards him as the shrouded figure came in spoke volumes, telling him of the faith the man has already put in him and that the psychological nuances of his chuckle had worked better than expected, the man was intelligent and he took note not to underestimate him, although he had noticed the man as soon as he stepped in the bar.

His Mask had already hacked into the security cameras in the bar and even the TV, shutting off the power so that he or the cameras may catch a glimpse of the mans face in the reflection, though to his dismay he could not get much information, the figure was no pushover to be sure, information beads spoke of great strength and skill, but tactical algorithms told him that the small group seated around the table was more than a match for the secretive observer.

He waited for Barker to turn towards him again and he merely shrugged, almost imperceptibly, trying to tell the Doctor without words that he was merely waiting for things to unfold.

The doctor was right; no ordinary child could have ever decoded a message such as his. It had been trivial for her, but not for an ordinary child. Now that she thought of it, most ordinary adults wouldn't have been able to puzzle their way through it. That was, of course, her opinion; her opinion could easily be wrong on that mark. That was when she spotted the wheelchair man move his eyes to look at Mask, then he moved his eyes somewhere else. Stealthily, Dakka did the same, not budging an inch even as her eyes moved; the back of him was all she could see. Was he here to spy on them?

It was possible that a villain had intercepted the message as well, after all; it was difficult to tell who was really good and who was really evil. Not that such terms often applied to people; people couldn't be divided into good and evil because those were words invented by people to use against people. She also noticed the man's arm moving, gripping something; ah, so he did indeed have weaponry, as the other had guessed. She still wondered how he had seen it, spotted it, before she had though; some kind of scanner, perhaps?

She soon averted her gaze from the man and looked at Barker again; she mimicked The Gray Mask's actions a moment later, shrugging her shoulder as well, if only a little bit less than the other man had. Truth be told, she could have just kept staring at the eavesdropper, thanks to the goggles she was wearing; they obscured her eyes from outside view to the point that you couldn't even see them beneath the goggles.

Barker continued talking as though nothing had happened. If silence pervaded them, the intruder would know that he was spotted.

So you say The Florida Keys are nice this time of year? I've never had the pleasure of going, myself. Although it does remind me of a trip i took a few years back into Alaska.

He continued to jabber, making conversation as he could. His peripherals were well trained, and even without focusing, he had a perfect view of the intruder. A slight movement arose from him, followed by the indescribable sound of an object cutting through air. With the reactions so well hammered into his brain, Barker leaned forward in time for a small blade to glide harmlessly behind him, going on to stick frimly into the wall.

WIth no time wasted, he pulled his Smith and Wesson Magnum, instantly firing off 4 shots at the assailant. Whoever this was, they knew what was going on. He may have very well intercepted on of the messages.

WIth grace and skill, the intruder dodged the bullets, ducking behind the nearby counter. The bar was alight with screams and terror as the patrons rushed out of the door. It only meant that authorities would be here soon.

Waste no time. Kill him quickly. We can't linger her much longer.

At his words, the slicing of air was heard again as another blade was flung through the air towards the group.

A loud clang was heard as one of The Gray Mask's own throwing knives intercepted the projectile, he had already sprung into action when the first blade left the mans hand, leaping up onto the table and into the rafters as Barker fired his gun, he back-flipped through the space above the rafters and landed gracefully in front of the door even as the man turned towards it to escape, The Gray Mask laughed audibly, mocking the would-be killer.

His right arm pumped quickly two times, throwing 4 more knives at the man, the first one was honed to a deadly edge but The Gray Mask had guessed the man would deflect at least the first one and he wasn't aiming to kill the assassin, he wanted information, the other 3 were dulled and non-lethal, they could break skin but their weight and design would not allow them to reach vitals, with his other hand he popped his staff out of the arm compartment, clicked on limited blade functionality, turning it into a scythe the size of a short-sword that he wielded underhand

It was intelligent, what Barker was doing; not giving away the fact that they had even noticed the man. Sooner or later, he would surely attack them anyway; it was better to take him by surprise then give him any advantage. She surveyed the area as she waited for the defining moment to come; before most of the others, she heard the blade hurtling through the air. She, however, didn't need to do anything; Barker simply moved and it embedded itself into the wall. That was when all chaos was let loose; a second blade was flung their way, deflected by the older man not in a wheelchair, Mask.

As soon as she felt it was safe to do so, she rushed forward in the direction of the man, now hiding behind a counter; or at least he was, before Mask flushed him out. She noticed that what Mask was doing wasn't aiming to kill the man; the knives were not that sharp, they were dull. Save for the first one, but the assassin, the would-be one, deflected it. She thought for a moment and decided to be better safe then sorry. Once in sight of the assassin, she pulled out her two pistols supernaturally fast and began firing away towards the legs, and arms, of the man; he could still die from being shot there, yes, but it was a very small chance.

The most likely thing that would happen would be that he would be unable to use his arms or legs, which was a good thing for them. She also paid careful attention to making sure that she wouldn't be in the way of the knives if the assassin dodged them, shooting at the assassin from the side; from what she had saw, Mask was attacking him from the front.

The Assassin scoffed, narrowly dodging an array of attacks coming from two sides. But neither of the was his target. If he died it didn't matter. His only task was to kill the crippled one. In the blink of an eye, he had 5 blades hurtling towards the man in the chair. Confined to the device, there was no way he could avoid all of them. He watched balefully, but immidiately after realese, he took one of the blades to the knee, followed by two bullets into his right arm. He feel to the ground, cursing. But his task was done. He heard the satisfying sound of blade piercing flesh. He had hit his target.

Barker watched as his companions assaulted the assassin. They worked in harmony, even though they had only just met. They were the exact sort of people he needed. He turned his chair around, facing the counter that the assassin was ducking behind to avoid gunfire and knives. Barker watched as he quickly jumped up, throwing several knives straight for him. There was no time to react. The chair wasn't fast enough to avoid it. As the assassin was struck down by bullets and blades, he felt the metal pierce his chest. This was no ordinary metal. Otherwise it wouldn't have scratched him.