RoT: Part 2 (Laszlo - Arabella)

His face turned slightly to glance upon the fairy Arabella, who landed soft as a whisper on the roof beside him. He gave her a half hearted smile, but he was feeling a little nervous about this. There were armed man. Three around the crate yes, but he could already pick out more forms coming down from the ship itself that were armed. Not to mention an idling black car by the open gates which just seemed to be begging Irish Mob. He lifted a gloved finger to inform her of both, but instead a blade slammed into the man unloaded the drugs from the shipping container. It dropped down into his fist and he let out a soft, "Huh." He watched her drop into shadow and disappear from view for a few seconds. Laszlo was going to suggest instead of brute strength they should fight this smart, not hard. His eyes moved onto the slumped form that had just supplied the docks with a new fresh layer of paint. The magician mused softly to himself, "Hope he's not dead."

He did not in fact move in to deal with the two thugs; he had something more important to do. Or at least something he considered more important. He instead dropped into the shadows too, but chose a different path around crates. He crawled behind the wood, cape brushing over the stone cement of the dock. When he was close to the large industrial crane, The Raven scaled onto one box and then another. He leapt the short distance between the highest box to the metal poles interlocking the cranes main support beams. When he was about halfway up, hidden by the near dusk, he slipped through the space and reached a hand out to the ladder into the crane's cockpit.

Laszlo popped his head into the cockpit and laughed quietly to himself, the sound of the engine masking it from the pilot. He climbed all the way inside, stooped slightly from the ceiling. In his free hand, he had the gloves create a stubby but thick blackjack. It was a quick sharp smack on the back of the head of the controller to knock him clean out, slumping slightly over the controls. Laszlo puts hands under his armpits and dragged him from the bucket seat, though he found this a little unsavory because this man was far too fat and far too sweaty. "There we go, come on sailor, nap time." He muttered to himself, before unceremoniously dumping the form face down onto the cockpits floor.

The Raven settled behind the control and wrapped his gloved hands around a couple of sticks. He thumbed the ball head on one and gave the dials and levers a critical examination. "This is going to either be very cool or I'm about to get shot at for nothing. Alley Oop." The large square hook, apparently designed to slip easily into holes on a shipping crate and lift, ground to life. The blonde carefully directed it further down the track and swung the pivoted head around, lining the whole thing up to the crate full of drugs. The thugs hadn't seemed to notice yet as Laszlo slipped the geared teeth around the container. With a twist of his hand the claw had sufficiently squeezed the metal box for him to lift it.

There was a moments hesitation before he pivoted the crane around slowly, then faster, faster, into a full 360 degree swing. With the momentum, he slammed the container into the van hard enough to send it spinning off the dock itself and into the water. "Someone is going to be angry at me for that." The Raven laughed to himself, before cursing and ducking behind the control panel. He was right, the ship was filled with Irish mobsters, all who opened fire on his crane with heavy weapons. He crawled from out of the seat and dropped from the hole in the cockpit, like a black and red shade disappearing to the cement below.

He hoped Arabella was having more luck.

Laszlo winced and slapped the back of his ankle, which seemed to have been twisted just a little bit. He lifted himself just in time to see Arabella taking care of herself. He really hoped she would try to keep up with the no killing rule. If she failed in that regard would it be his fault? Eh, he shrugged under the cape and saw the headlights of the black car ignite. The engine revved and the nose lurched forward a foot. The Ravens eyes flashed in the light as his head tilted, working out very quickly just what was about to happen. He placed weight on his ankle and was glad that the fall wasn't as bad as he thought it had been. While Arabella was focused on fighting off the men the costumed hero leapt from his hiding place amongst the wooden crates onto the hood of the car. The driver inside narrowed his eyes and withdrew his gun, but Laszlo twitched his fingers from side to side in a No fashion before dragging the handle of a golf club from his sleeve. The head popped free from the too small space.

The driver was momentarily stunned, glancing at the wrist hidden by fabric, allowing Laszlo to spread his legs and swing the club with a loud, "Fore!" The glass of the windshield crumpled below his below, as did the bones of the man's wrist. Inside the car someone shouted and kicked open one of the doors on the side. The Raven dragged free the weapon and climbed onto the roof of the car, which dipped under his weight slightly. At the first sign of a hand on the door frame, he swung again, breaking fingers with a yelp form the interior. Bullets riddled the roof he stood on, one cutting it's way through his jade and black cape. The magician slipped down the back of the car, turned on the tips of his toes as he stood on the boot and replied with yet another hard swing into the back of someone's head, who was knocked clean out.

"This is pretty fun." He mused to himself, before he spun the weapon in his grip. The golf club head shifted into what looked like a pick, which pierced the roof of the vehicle. It morphed in his hand to a large metal snake, which tore open the panel above and tossed it over Laszlo's head. There was a momentary silence and then someone inside said, with a very quiet afraid voice, "We give up."

It was then that the ship went up in flames, drifting into the docking and causing substantial damage to the stone work. The spine of the ship twisted and it was suddenly at forty five degrees, flames climbing higher over the deck as men abandoned it.

The Raven found Arabella stood on the dock, speckled with blood that definitely didn't belong to her. He carefully rearranged his sleeve and pulled his gloves tight, glancing at the other stage performer as the flames cast their shadows even longer. "You did pretty good. Any deaths on your end?" He glanced at the sharp deadly blades, but the question was drowned out by the sound of police sirens. The NYPD were finally replying to the apparent violent attack on its own shores. "Actually, scratch that. We better make like trees and split." He casually joked, holding a gloved hand out to the pretty woman beside him. "I think there's a storm drain near here that we can slip into, before heading towards our final stop through the subway system. Would you care to join me, mademoiselle?"

Ari lazily wiped the blade with a cloth she had plucked from her outfit, cleaning the single katana with such great care. She briefly looked up on hearing the screeching of a car but otherwise she stayed where she was. She had a small cut on her cheek which was only now beginning to ooze a little blood but otherwise she was fine. Her shadow, some what magical due to her wings being flared open against her back, was the only thing which moved in her area of the docks and only that due to the fire burning behind her. When she saw the Raven on the van however she returned to the care of her weapon. No immediate deaths and with the sirens beginning to wail like a banshee she was sure there would be no deaths at all. At least not from her. She wasn't sure if being in a gang was crime enough here to be put to death for, hopefully drug importation was at least. Inspecting her now bloodless blade in the fire light she gave an air of satisfaction and then slid it into her belt hook.

It was at that moment that the Raven himself appeared, looking some what alert and definitely happy. Kinda. It was hard to tell with the mask on. She let the shield she often kept up to keep emotions out and then breathed n slowly his own unique blend of emotional smells. Adrenaline was a ripe citrus taste on her tongue that almost made her shiver, next came excitement in the form of sugar, mixed with the citrus, making her think of Schubert which was exactly what he smelt of. Schubert and ash.

"Deaths?" she mused. "Not any directly caused by mean anyway," she shrugged then on seeing his worried eyes she smiled a little more, revealing a flash of white teeth. "No. No deaths." The wailing was louder now and set the tiny hairs on her arms on end. Such a noise was horrible. She didn't get the joke at all really but nodded to his last comment, leaving behind the ruined drugs business and heading to God only knows what.

**Part Two complete. On to Part Three.""