What Happens in Vegas. Doesn't Stay In Vegas. [ Topic Finished. ]

And there it was. One of few things Scott was truly afraid of other than his eventual punishment for his life of sin, his identity. As the heat resistant hoodie/suit was ripped apart it exposed his back, one of the many heavily tattooed parts of his body. Stretching over his left shoulder was the shape of a large three headed dog. This mark, along with many others was badge of honor of sorts from his former gang. During his youth, Scott had been one of the three leaders of the Hellhounds, a notoriously violent gang in LA. And while he had put that life behind him, the scars and marks from that time still carried over. As he felt her reach to rip the high tech mesh away he tried to make her stop but the damage was done. If she had any knowledge of current events in the USA she would know what the tattoo meant. Scott's head hung low in resignation. To him a chance at a possible ally had been ruined by his past. It always seemed to come around and bite him.

Speaking of biting him, after ripping his suit, the woman then yanked the glass shard from Scott's back. He could feel the sharp glass as it passed from inside his body and exited his skin. He inhaled sharply as the last of it was yanked out. Another sharp inhale came as blood began to trickle down his back. All the air seemed to suck out of him as he gasped for air. Every rasped breath came more and more labored and with his now functioning left hand he reached again to his mask. Turning a dial he once again released medicine into his lungs. Slowly he sat back, trying to catch his breath. The medicine was working, but with the severity of this attack it was taking a while. In the mean time he looked to the woman, thankful for her help. With the glass now gone he would be able to patch his wound and heal himself for the future. Gratefully, Scott extended a hand. "Thank you...miss...my names...Redline...I appreciate...the help" Sore but mobile, Scott rose off the ground, dusting some of the debris off his now ripped suit.

Hero. The word ripped into Scott's very core. Never, did he want to be called a hero. It would be a horrible deception for anyone to ever think of him as anything less than scum. His spirit was filthy, drenched in sin and malice. There were far more suiting titles for him than hero and to that end he spoke up. "I have demons Saileyra...I'm sure you do as well...so please do not ever refer to me...as a hero again...the things I've done...the lives I've ruined...as Redline and in my past...are some of the worst things imaginable...I don't deserve the title of hero...a hero doesn't kill...a hero doesn't do the things I've done...a hero is someone a child can look up to...someone worth idolizing...I wouldn't be able to live with myself...if I knew someone looked up to me...I'm a monster Saileyra...and that's all I can ever be" A twinge of anger and heavy dose of self loathing came with this statement. In all honestly, Scott hated himself, hated the world which forced him to do what he did. He spoke again, this time more adamant about his words. "But that's what a world like ours needs...a monster...someone who knows evil...someone who can stare it in the face...because he knows the extent of real darkness...I hide behind Redline because the man...behind this mask is as vile...as any criminal who walks the streets at night" Scott was in an uncommon interior rage. Rarely did such a comment get to him, then again he had never been called a hero before, nor did he ever want to be called one. In fact he never wanted to be called anything. The less people knew about him, the better. If people really found out about him an his vigilantism, they might glorify it, glorify him. If that were to ever happen, Scott was unsure he could ever don his suit again.

No heroes huh? just an organization bent on keeping the balance, ridding the world of evil. Scott could get behind that. Redline could have a place, a way to expand his one man crusade. he wouldn't be alone. That concept both excited and frightened him. Since his turning over his life, Scott had never met another person with similar ideals to his own. No one with the same undying sense of justice and self sacrifice at all costs. But on the other hand if these people were like him, it would be a relief. To know he was not alone in this wretched remnant of a decent world. If there were people like him, Scott wanted to know about them. Reluctantly, but with a twinge of excitement in his voice, he spoke. "And you would lay down...your life in the defense of good? Unflinching? I need to know...that you and all...of your operatives would...I want to join you...I want to know that others...feel my pain and that I...am not alone in my struggles...this world needs a beacon...a sign that this world...will not tolerate...the evils committed on it...can your organization...be that symbol?" he could only hope that her answer was yes. On his own, Scott knew he would and could fight down any threat, no matter how daunting. But if he had a team of others behind him with the same undying will and refusal to lay down, then maybe this world had some chance of redemption.

There it was. After his little question he something in her change. Her eyes glassed over and the passion he needed to see flicked to life behind her eyes. He didn't know where she came from, who she was, or why she did what she did but he knew she knew pain. She knew the difficulty of sacrifice and the depth of true evil. He didn't know about the rest of her organization but this was a woman he could trust and one he would gladly serve with. His past pain had not been in vain and he no longer needed to suffer in silence. And at the sound of her question he responded, a lone tear in his eye. "Thank you Sai...I'm in...keep my identity a secret...and I will gladly serve...beside you." He breathed a long sigh of relief as he firmly grasped her hand. For once in a very long time, he felt hope.

Sai was right, she could not betray his identity to the other operatives if she did not know it herself. Though regardless, he did not want people snooping around and trying to discover it. Scott Silver was a monster unfit for the company of even the basest life form. He was ashamed of him, ashamed of the man that lay beneath the mask. And not that Redline was much better but at least he stood for something, was capable of some higher thought. As long as it never needed to be revealed that he was beneath the mask, he would fight for OCEAN with the same passion he had fought criminals in LA with.

Seeing the helicopters, Sai pulled Scott behind a counter, narrowly ducking the glaring light of a search helicopter. After ending the heist the police had come out in full force to catch the people who had dropped a multi-ton safe on a crowded city street. This was always the most important part, the getaway. The cleaner it was, the better. He didn't need people latching onto his name and making a symbol out of him. As with many aspects of Scott and Redline, the less people knew, the better. So it came as a surprise and a relief to him that Sai had a base of operations. A nice place to settle down after something like this would be amazing, especially compared to the squalor he lived in. "Alright...I think we should...make our way to the main lobby...they shouldn't have force there yet...from there...we'll split...can you fly...teleport...have some means of quick movement...if not that's fine...but it will make this a little...more tricky...I can't thank you enough Sai...to offer me a home is more...than I could ever ask." Scott was anxious for her answer. If she could not move the way he did, he could carry her to a distance clear from the spread of the authorities. After all she had helped him more than once today, if she needed it, it would be the least he could do.

A conformation of his fear and a feminist remark told Scott all he needed to know. Sai would have to be carried from their current predicament, though not in the way she seemed to think. "If you're worried...about being in my arms...don't worry...I'm not strong enough...to run...and carry you like that for...any kind of distance...you'll be...on my back" he said smiling slightly under his mask. What a strange thing to be worried about at a time like this. But whatever, it was of little consequence to him as long as they both made it out alive. He spun around, remaining on one knee and putting his back to her. Once she was on he would speak briefly before taking off. "Hang on tight...and hold your breath...my speed alone...can knock a man...out cold." With that he'd take off at blistering speeds down the stairwell and out the front door. Within minutes they would be out of the city and in the surrounding desert. Not even the helicopters could have followed them. And once they were outside of the city, Scott collapsed to his hands and knees. Running on his own was one thing, but going at top speeds for a long distance with the weight of a second body was taxing. His lungs screamed out in agony. Every breath came shallow and raspy, desperately grasping for oxygen. The surrounding desert began to turn black as his vision narrowed. With little strength in him he reached to his mask and delivered a final dose of medicine to himself before blacking out.

[ Both Roleplayers Agreed to End This Topic At This Point. Lock and Close Please. ]