A different type of hero (Open)

Close to midnight, many of the average civilians were inside their homes safe and sound leaving the dark night to those who had more sinister purposes, there were a few that were out to serve other purposes, those who came in the night to search for evil and wrongdoers to protect the innocent. The air was cold as the temperatures dropped to just above twelve degrees making it so most people would need to bundle up, he enjoyed the cold though it reminded him of his homeland, the moon nearly gone leaving only the lights of man to shine in the darkness that surrounded them. The area not the best which is exactly why the psycho had escaped to this area, he was a sadistic serial killer that had managed to elude police while killing three of them at the same time back in Atlanta, the authorities had lost track of him completely but not Ragnar who had been following him for nearly a month now. The man was smart leaving behind no evidence of his killings, they were nasty deaths using high tensile fishing wire which he wrapped around the victims throats and then slowly used a reel bit by bit until the victims could no longer survive, some lasted hours unfortunately. While the police might not have been able to do something about him Ragnar could, he burst in as the man was attempting another kill, unfortunately someone heard the commotion and called the police while Ragnar was attempting to kill the man while he used a woman as a shield.

Once the police became involved it became much worse as they focused on Ragnar's unusual appearance rather than the serial killer who used the chaos to his advantage, Ragnar put six of the officers in the hospital which was Ragnar's way of being nice if they had been criminals trying to take his life rather than officers of the law he would have killed them. Now finally he tracked the man down and he would deliver justice upon him, it seemed that in the time that it had taken Ragnar to track him down the man managed to get a few people that would serve under him as guards of a sort. Small time thugs that were big in size but small in brains, they would serve their purpose for most people but against Ragnar there would be no one that would stop him, the black armor barely visible upon the roof he stood on looking down at the group of seven looking for the weakest member. He found a him quickly, seeing him hunched over rubbing his hands together signaling he was cold which would make him slower, Ragnar lifted one hand up and aimed it at the roof across the way, out shot a small but strong wire that slammed into the roof side and dug in deep in order to hold Ragnar's weight. He leaped from the roof now swinging on the wire towards the group, silently and invisible until the last few seconds, the others reacting by scattering or putting up their guards as best they could, the cold man never had a chance as a booted foot caught him in the side of the face.

It was a violent jaw shattering move that sent the man sprawling to the ground, the wire retracted sliding back into the small cartridge underneath Ragnar's wrist, one of the larger men moved in attempting a wild heavy haymaker. It was strong but slow, far too slow Ragnar thought  a step forward, a hand flying faster than most could see, then a spray of blood from the man's broken nose ended the slow haymaker and had the man stepping back. Next came a rush tackle from one of the dumber men, he came in low making it harder to hit him if one wasn't trained but Ragnar was extremely well trained in hand to hand combat, he put his front forward and his feet back placing his weight on the man's upper body halting his momentum easily. His opponent confused for a second and that was all it took to bring his knee up slamming into the man's chin viciously, he fell to his knee's giving Ragnar the perfect angle to slam his knee straight up into the thug's chin without mercy snapping his head back and perhaps breaking a second jaw tonight. The third opponent tried something a little different coming at Ragnar with a push kick, he probably thought he would be better off striking at a distance because of Ragnar's short stature as he was only five foot four, his mistake was assuming Ragnar would become defensive. He slipped the kick while stepping in, a jab to the throat as he grabbed the leg and pushed up causing the man to lose his balance, as he fell to the ground Ragnar grabbed the foot while placing his booted foot against the part where the hip and thigh met.

A wrench to one side with all of Ragnar's strength and one could heard the ankle as it snapped due to the man not being able to turn his body to go with the foot thanks to the placement of Ragnar's foot. Three down three to go but Ragnar was not perfect, no one was so the third got him from behind with a shoulder bump knocking him off balance as the other two came in as well, Ragnar rolled forward and then sprung to his feet to regain his position. A ham sized fist came in slamming into his face the black helmeted head snapping sideways quickly though most of that was from Ragnar soft blocking the blow by twisting his neck and head, he spun his body as well bringing his left palm to his right fist pushing his arm forward during the spin to drive his elbow into the side of the neck, well placed as the man fell to the ground without a way to catch himself slamming face first into the pavement. Two left, one of them coming in with a right straight which Ragnar slipped by while placing his left arm on the other side as he slammed his shoulder into the elbow causing his arm to bend in an unnatural way and then snap with a sickening sound before Ragnar gave him some cracked ribs with a kick just for good measure. The last one decided that Ragnar was not worth the trouble and started to run away, Ragnar calmly picked up the nearest object which was a beer bottle, he took aim and hurled the bottle as hard as he could hitting the man in the back of the head shattering the glass and putting him on the ground.

Now for the last and most important one the serial killer who had slipped away while the fighting started, it wouldn't be hard to track the man though Ragnar was used to that kind of thing by now. He slipped into the alley following him as fast as he could taking a few moments to catch up to him at a chain link fence, "Edgar Greene your time is up" a gravelly merciless tone could be heard through the alley as Edgar tried to climb the fence faster. Just as he reached the top the short but stout black armored figure leaped up and grabbed his ankle, Ragnar pulled down using all his weight to drag the man from the top and then slam him into the pavement driving the air from his lungs, "you cannot escape from me Edgar, I can see your death". Edgar driven by fear was able to ignore the pain and pull out a knife which he struck at Ragnar with sloppily, "not used to killing someone who can fight back?" Ragnar asked with a mocking curiosity as he slapped the blade from Edgar's hand with little effort before slamming a booted foot into his chest. On the ground unable to ignore the pain now Edgar barely moved "w-w-wait we c-can talk about t-this" he managed to gasp out as Ragnar drew closer ever so slowly to draw out Edgar's suffering as he had for his victims. "There is nothing to talk about Edgar, you are scum, you infect the world around you with darkness and now you need to be taken out of this world so you can no longer do such a thing" he reached down grabbing the spool of fishing wire from Edgar's pocket before unwinding a bit of it for Edgar to see.

"Wait you are a good guy you don't do these kinds of things" Edgar cried out as he flipped over and tried to crawl away from the armored man who he considered a psychopath. Ragnar wrapped the fishing wire around Edgar's throat as he leaned in close "I'm not that kind of good guy Edgar" he began to tighten the wire with his hands slowly, "now suffer as they suffered" he whispered darkly into Edgar's ear as the serial killer clawed at the wire with his fingers unable to do anything about it. Bit by bit Edgar found it harder to breathe, his neck felt as if it were on fire as the wire bit into his flesh, then a glorious sound could be heard Edgar thought as he heard the sound of sirens that signaled the police were close by. Ragnar could see the look of relief that crossed over Edgar's face now "they won't save you this time, it just means you won't suffer as much as they did", he released the wire letting Edgar gasp in air but not for long, he grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the ground as hard as he could. The weakened Edgar could do nothing as Ragnar slammed his face into the ground over and over, within several slams Edgar's face with nothing more than a bloody mess, a few more to be sure and finally the skull cracked revealing more than most would care to see, Ragnar stood up now but before he left the scene he brought his foot down on the man's cracked skull completely crushing it to make absolutely sure there was no chance of this scum coming back.

A bright light filled the alley now as they police showed up guns drawn putting the black figure up for display "this is the police put your hands in the air and surrender yourself or we will be forced to use the appropriate force" they called out to Ragnar now. Now there was no way that Ragnar was going to give himself up to the authorities, it seemed there was one police officer that thought the same thing or perhaps they were just a bit trigger happy, either way a gunshot pierced the air and a bullet ricocheted off the ground not three feet from him. Ragnar dove to the side managing to get behind a dumpster as the other police officers followed suit and began shooting at him, guns were quite the nuisance Ragnar thought to himself as he kept behind the dumpster. He remembered a time when there were no guns, there were other projectile weapons of course but nothing of this caliber these made things so unfair, he had seen many a fair fight suddenly changed because of a firearm and it was a bit sickening to see that people could not rely on their own strength to do things. Though he was being shot at by several officers Ragnar was not the least bit worried, true if they hit him there would be damage but Ragnar would heal from it rather quickly, he was simply waiting until the time that the officers decided to reload to attack, it would be soon he thought calmly before hearing the sound of magazines slipping from the weapons, the time to strike was now.

The police scanner's constant interruptions made it almost impossible for Owen to sleep. Sure he could simply shut it off, but what would be the fun of that? He could miss something rather exciting. He has been woken up several times now by situations that seems clustered together. Owen thought maybe a few thugs have started a jewelry store trend and tried to hit all of them in one night. Anything was a possibility in this age.

Reluctantly Owen quickly got dressed, throwing on his tight black suit, and just after placing three metal rings around the bicep of each arm, covered himself in his long leather jacket. The weather was frightful outside. He never did like the cold, but when excitement calls he wasn't about to miss it. Trying to understand the people of this age was difficult for him, so anytime he could watch and see the moral stance police take, had the possibility for him to unlock a knew understanding. The probability of him actually gaining something from this was slim, this he already concluded.

The stairs made a loud crack with each step. The wood he was walking on looked as if it where years old. He liked to stay in building that didn't have security systems. When he is on business trips anyway. That way he could get as much rest as possible without have the temptation of peering through the lens of every camera in the complex. This place was a little lower in class than normal, but he made due. With the last crack echoing through the narrow space he was in, he quickly moved to the door. Opening it and shutting it behind him silently.

Within moments Owen was on the roof of the adjacent building. He took three steps and suddenly the police dispatch echoed through his head.

"Shots fired, there are shots fired.." and just as the last word was heard, Owen's head twitched to the side hearing gunfire that was close.

He jumped from place to place, luckily the structures were close together, making it so Owen didn't shoot himself short. He made it to the commotion quickly. Looking down he watched it all happen. A police officer had a moment of weakness. Shooting at a person in a dark alley? Sure there where bodies laying lifeless on the ground, and plenty of blood. But to shoot at an unarmed man? Maybe the officer realized his mistake at the last moment and flinched just enough that the bullet landed just feet in front of the dark clad man. But his mistake caused the other men to react with out thinking.

Owen decided to help, for now he would give the man a moment to escape. But it would be just a moment.. a time consisting of only 90 seconds. The three metal bands around his biceps quickly became liquid, no one would see this because it was under his jacket, but the metal metal moved quickly down his arm and to the edge of the building. The police cars where just at the start of the ally way, and behind these the officer's where shooting from.

A thin metal stream went from the middle of the structures height and to the adjacent wall. This was hardly noticeable with all of the commotion and darkness, even if it was briefly penetrated by the lights from the cars. In a second the liquid shot up in thin streams, just as metallic streams from both walls shot out toward etch other, in two seconds an extremely thing barrier was between the bullets and the dark clad man. The metal easily stopped the gun fire.

Tho this could be an indefinite solution to the man's problem, Owen was only going to give him 90 seconds to do what he will. Another learning experience presented its self, tho the dark clad man doesn't know the time limit, what would his reaction be? Will he quickly move, or will he sit there to ponder the situation?

"Tick-tock" Owen thought to himself.

Lately Chicago has been the centre of attention for a large quantity of criminal activity. Perhaps it was to make up for the lack of a New York. Perhaps meta-humans just like Chicago style pizza more. Regardless, Milo has business where danger lives. He's no hero, certainly not. However, his employer has recently developed a fetish for danger after surviving New York's destruction. Milo's job? To scout the city and discover the hot-spots for future vacations. When his plane had landed earlier, he was half-expecting to be mugged outside the door. It, however, was disappointingly calm. In fact, he made it to his hotel room with nary a gunshot. Sure, the cab had holes up the wazoo, but nothing new. The Hotel? The entrance was fire damaged, glass windows boarded up, and the outlines of ten men scattered just inside. Obviously the rooms were given at a discount. Boy what a deal! Five stars for the price of one! I mean, if you look at it optimistically.

Milo had packed his least favourite suit for this trip. His ben-day dotted suit. Left-sided dots, right-sided stripes. I couldn't tell you what he was thinking when he packed it, but it somehow won in the polls. Of course, it doesn't matter right now. He was to stay in the hotel until morning. His employer is old, and has a bed time. It seems strange, really, that one would desire danger and yet be in bed before the good stuff would go down. In his reports, Milo would exclude his exploits at night. Not nightly, but some days when the moon isn't so full, he likes to go out. This is one of those nights. The Moon has made itself scarce, and the only light in the sky is the lights powered by the city. One or two of the brighter stars shines through, but only just. Lucky.

M. Em? M. Milo is at the hotel. M is out under the sky, jumping apartment to apartment. Each roof just as deserted as the last. A robbery wouldn't do. There's not much danger in a mugging. He passes a dozen of those not long after leaping from his starting balcony. One or two are thwarted by victims as the perpetrators distract themselves with leaping bundles of drapery. Rattling along his side is a baldric made from the laces of twenty-odd shoes. Peaking out from its sheath is a handle suitable for a sword. M is more noticeable than he thinks. Terrible design choice, really. For his late night escapades, he opens his suitcase and chooses about five fabrics to throw on. Usually, as with this time, they are so dreadful that even a top fashion designer couldn't save them. I hope your mother doesn't miss them. Ha! Bam! Got ya!

...

*cough* *ahem* Let's uh... let's move on.

Mid-jump, M hears a choir of screams. Not in panic. Orders. His body vibrates with rich tidings of anticipation. So much that his feet forget to brace for landing, and he flops forward, tumbling over the edge of the building behind the police brigade. His landing, though soft, spooks one of the officers. Bang!

Oh dear!

The burn of gunfire is filling the air now. More gunfire. Nasty smell to it. And who is that they are firing at? A knight? It doesn't matter. M...ilo is not supposed to interfere. At least not any more than he did. He moves a bit back... but he's already there, and there's a crime.

It's cool.

No, never mind.

Let's hide.

Good plan.

M decides on his plan of action. To the roof! A very visible robed figure jumps twice. Once from the ground, and once from a fire escape. Safety? No. There's someone on the adjacent roof. Just a statue, maybe. Smells like metal, but not wholly. A similar scent is on the streets now. Very thin, but the clanging confirms. When did that get there? M doesn't notice that his head is facing the cyborg, too distracted by internal conversations on the whole situation.

What a weird city.

Agreed.

Ragnar had already formulated a plan inside of his head for escaping from the police without being harmed at all, first as they reloaded he would throw his smoke pellets confusing them, then come in hard and fast snap the first officers collarbone with cupped fists brought down from above. Second officer with a spinning heel kick to the knee most likely breaking that as well, the others would be dealt with in a similar manner and though they were just doing their job Ragnar did not fancy getting shot in the back as he attempted to escape. He was accustomed to pain thanks to his healing factor but that did not mean he wanted to feel it, the magazines of the weapons hit the ground as the men went to reload and Ragnar leaned out slightly to get a view before he made his move. It seemed that his plan was now rendered unnecessary as someone or something had placed a barrier of sorts between him and the officers that had been shooting at him, it took all of a second for Ragnar to react throwing his smoke pellets at the barrier regardless for he did not know how long it would last and if the user of said barrier was friend or foe. The pellets burst and smoke filled the alley rather quickly obscuring the view for those with normal vision, Ragnar reached up to his helmet and pressed the side to turn on his thermal vision now. Everything became a multitude of colors and the smoke did little to obscure his vision, now he dove from his cover leaping to the other side of the alley before reaching his hand upward as if to grab something, the wire shot out quickly biting into the side of the roof before Ragnar ascended to it.

Now he needed to take measure of what was happening around him or else this could turn out badly he crouched upon the roof near invisible in the darkness his thermal visual allowing him to see that there was no one on this roof with him but as he canned the other rooftops he spotted a person on the rooftops. His thermal vision had not picked up on the second person or at least nothing came up that Ragnar could see well enough to believe it was another person, with the smoke still clouding up the alley Ragnar now aimed his arm at the rooftop where the mysterious person was. The wire shot out with precision from under his wrist slamming in the building's side and then he practically flew from the rooftop he was on, he hit the side of the building feet first and then aimed his free arm up towards the roof shooting out a second wire which pulled him to the top of the roof now. He landed crouched and ready for battle as he stared at the being who helped him to get away from the cops, it was difficult to judge what exactly was standing before him, it could be human, alien, or something else entirely there were too many possibilities and not enough information for Ragnar to deduce what the black clad figure was. His left hand placed flat against the ground while his right hand reached back to grasp at the sonic grenade that was on his belt, if things came to blows which was quite possible with Ragnar then this would come in handy but before that he would attempt to speak to them.

"Who are you and why did you help me?" his voice though a bit contorted by the helmet upon his head was still gruff with an edge of wary curiousness, Ragnar would not just assume that this being was here to harm him but at the same time that didn't mean he was just going to trust him. Too many times had people helped him only to try to stab him in the back, a few succeeded so Ragnar was not one to be the trusting type, even though he didn't see anyone else with his thermal vision earlier he continued to use his peripheral vision and kept his ears open for any kind of movement behind him. He took note that the being was taller than him probably close to six feet tall giving him the reach advantage if it came down to a fight, he didn't appear too bulky so Ragnar would assume he was close to his own weight at two hundred and five pounds but that didn't mean he wanted to grapple with him. Based on the barrier earlier and the way it just seemed to take shape he was guessing some kind of matter manipulation or energy manipulation due to the way it seemed to just sit there suddenly, he would have to be wary of aerial attacks as well if this were the case. If he used the sonic grenade as a distraction and then his foam grenade he could possibly trap whatever it was standing in front of him, granted that was if he wasn't hit by an attack first and if it couldn't react fast enough, perhaps he should consider a smoke pellet and then the sonic grenade so his opponent couldn't see it coming, perhaps he was being too violent with his thoughts.

(Molly I'm not ignoring your character with this post it's just that because I didn't know enough about the interstellar fungi thing I wasn't sure if he would run hot or not, so rather than possibly metagaming and claiming to have seen him I made it so Ragnar did not notice him.)

"Quite the acrobat isn't he?" Own thought as he watched the dark clad man climb and repel from building to building.

As he thought the barrier dissipated early. Rather than 90 seconds it was only up for about 20, then it quickly liquefied and raced back to Owen's biceps forming into three perfect rings on each. This of course would not be seen because of the long leather jacket he was wearing. Luckily so too, the cool wind swept over the roof top with a speed that made him uncomfortable. Though it bothered him he didn't let it look it. The dark man approached and he wasn't sure if he was going to be friendly or not.

Owen watched the man. He was a bit shorter than he looked when he was down in the ally, and the motion of his hand reaching behind his back set off a flag. If this man attacked, Owen would rely mostly on his device to protect him. He now realized he was ill prepared for a full on battle. He had more weaponry in the vehicle that was parked a few streets over. Hopefully it doesn't come down to it.

"Who are you and why did you help me?" The man of the Dark spoke with a muffled voice.

Owen's head shifted slightly toward the street. He realized there were now three people out and about. The camera of one of the cop cars screamed out to him. None the less he was not about to deprive the man of an answer.

"The police seemed to be too willing to fire upon a man that could have just been going for a late night walk... who knows what happened down there, those people could have gotten mugged prior to your arrival." Owen spoke through the mask that he wore.

He walked nonchalantly away from the edge of the building, moving his hands as he spoke so that it would not be so noticeable of what he was planing.

"You see, these people acted irrationally, and aggressively toward a citizen, I would not take any pleasure in seeing you die because of a silly mistake of one officer." Own's voice rang out loudly in order to clear the distance from him to the dark clad man, and hopefully be heard by the new arrival.

Owen was planing to make a little space between him and the new guest if he was planing to go to the roof. If he landed on the roof it would create a triangle between the three of them. He liked the cemetery of it. And with the new guy Owen began to scan all of the near by systems. From light switches to aircraft, he wanted them all at his disposable if need be. Plus the triangle was pointing toward Own's car, just that much more distance he wouldn't have to cover in haste.

Shooting, reloading, jumping, propelling.

Fast.

I don't like it.

Keep watching.

M stays ever so still as the knight finds his way to the roof with the other metal man. It all feels like it's over too soon. The wall is gone, replaced by... phosphorus? The police have lost already. They never had a chance to begin with, but they could have at least gotten some visual ID on the knight before he escaped. But who is M kidding. Cops have always been ill-prepared to deal with anyone of meta-human capabilities. Chicago, Tokyo, Toronto, London. They need some upgrades, but shelf that thought.

With the commotion below becoming so noisy that it can be ignored, M places his attention on the two stars of the show. The protagonist and the foil, perhaps? M might be the foil. What if the cyborg is the antagonist? It doesn't really matter. This is all just banter between M and M and M and the rest. He decides that they're both the antagonists and that the detective who will be investigating them will be the protagonist. M will have to follow whomever that is later. Maybe he'll write a little comic about it and mail it to the detective when they inevitably fail to catch these two perps.

Part of him reflects on the accident. If he hadn't fallen, maybe the situation would have been resolved calmly and with a certain amount of control. Thank goodness he tripped! That would've been so boring, right?

Maybe he's a bit too lost right now. Too many conversations and discussions. There's a debate about the necessity of pin cushions right now going on in his left thigh. I hope someone blows it away, because I have never needed to hear anything quite so inane.

"You see, teas pimple acted innashonly, and aggre...ly tord a city, iould not takeny ple ... in see you die becaw of siscillian make ... one office."

What?

You're too loud, I can't hear!

No, that guy's too quiet!

What are they talking about?

Who's crinkling the skittles bag?!

M drops a packet of skittles off his private roof suite of loneliness. Must have gotten it from the minibar. What do those go for now, anyway? Four bucks? Never mind. As it falls, M jumps to a ledge of the building where the good and the ugly are. The triangle is complete. The bad has entered the arena. Maybe he's the crazy. Maybe the bad was left out of this American-Korean mash-up film.

We should have stayed away!

No, I couldn't understand what they were saying!

The police could hear it better than us.

His hand rests on the hilt of his weapon, his pose being that of a leader waiting to be painted. Actually, it's more like near the end of the painting. Impatient, fidgeting, and trying not to slip out of the light set-up. Who would paint a robe patterned like his is neither here nor there.

--------------------------------------------

The skittles land, each one shattering on the cement. The bag flutters down, alone, drifting to a police car. Are the cops too busy to notice falling skittles when there's no rainbow?

It seemed whatever it was in front of him was not looking to hurt him but instead protected him out of his own sense of justice, he felt Owen had been honest enough with him so he should be honest in return which was just how he was, the mention of Ragnar possibly dying because of a police officer's mistake was enough to make Ragnar smile just a tiny bit. Even if those men riddled his body with bullets it would have been nothing because he could heal from the damage but of course he wouldn't know that, there weren't very many people that knew Ragnar let alone knew his rapid healing ability. Now a different sound could be heard and Ragnar could not place the sound but it made him decide to switch his vision type to night vision rather than thermal in order to see the second figure, he was an oddly dressed figure that much Ragnar had to say and that was coming from someone who had seen a lot of people in his time. Surprisingly whoever or whatever it was seemed to be shorter than Ragnar, though it seemed the second one had a hand upon it's weapon Ragnar did not perceive this being as a threat yet simply because he had not noticed it with his thermal vision earlier and if it wanted to attack that would have been the perfect time when it had the advantage of surprise. "I am Deathless" he spoke to both figures as he slowly stood up from his crouched position, though this position was less threatening than crouched position it was no less wary of an attack and his hand did not release the weapon upon his belt.

"As for the men down there including the dead one I did it all" he said without hesitation or a hint of remorse, "the men upon the ground hired protection for the man who is dead they are lucky I didn't kill them for protecting him". Ragnar did not have the ability to control the temperature but one could swear it got even colder around him as he spoke, "man's name is Edgar Greene wanted serial killer linked to fifty seven known cases and possibly thirty eight more". He continued to explain "the police were one hundred percent sure that Edgar Greene killed those people but a lack of evidence stopped them from arresting him, he walked like a free man with no problems until I found out about him" his voice growing colder "his latest victims three police officers as he made his escape from me". He looked down at the police officers in the alley and knew it was only a matter of time before their back up arrived "took me a while to track him down again and while the police can't do anything I could so I erased that scum for good" even towards the end of his confession Ragnar felt no guilt for killing that man. "The only reason he did not suffer as much as his victims was because the police arrived, if they had been slower I would still have his own weapon wrapped around his throat slowly depriving him of air as it cut into the flesh of his throat". Ragnar cleared his own throat now as even he knew when he said too much, even if these two approved of fighting against evil it did not mean that they approved of the way he decided to face evil, Ragnar was a dark man perhaps right on the edge of insanity waiting to fall over at some point.

With his free hand Ragnar now pointed to the police officers that seemed to be fully recovered and searching the area as they waited for back up, in the distance the sound of sirens could be heard now. "I believe before we discuss anything further we should go or else we will all be dealing with the police and I assume that none of us wish this", Ragnar especially as he was a relatively unknown hunter of evil, there were those that had been saved by him and knew what he looked like but when they told the story of their black armored savior not many people believed them. You could run his fingerprints and get nothing, you could test his DNA and get nothing, facials records would not work either for he was nearly a thousand years old there was no way he could be in any system he was a ghost of sorts and that was how Ragnar wanted things to be. The less people knew of him the more effective he could be, yet though he suggested that they move Ragnar stood still in his spot waiting for the two of them to move first instead. He was not going to give them his back for even a second, "or you can attempt to take me in for the crime of murder but I warn you I will not come quietly" it was simple and convincing yet not arrogant for he did not assume he could beat either of these two since he knew nothing of them.

If Owen was a wolf, his ears would be perked up as if he heard one of his cubs crying for help. He found every word of the Dark clad man interesting and filled with this man's own sense of justice. These are the things that Owen truly liked to hear. This man, this Deathless, showed himself to be brighter than anyone of the officers that shot at him, no mater if he killed someone or not. In Own's eyes he almost made him out to be a hero. But the motive was lacking. He understood that this man did something wrong, and understood that he was going to get away with it, but the question still lingered in Owens head.. why does he chose to do this? He simply could have haired a gun to do it for him. Does he get pleasure out of it? Does he like watching the death slip from peoples eyes? If he calls himself, "The Deathless" why does he chose to surround himself by death?

The contemplation had to come to an end. He noticed the other man jump to the roof just as he planned, completing the triangle. Owen only acknowledged him with a glance from the side and kept on listening to what Deathless had to say. There was no worry or distress about Owen's posture. He knew that his guard was always up, relying on his gadget. He had thought briefly what he would do if this new comer attacked him, but quickly realized that he had plenty of time during combat to contemplate such a thing. After all, a war can be compared to a game of chess, its 99% tactics and 1% strategy.

Owen did happen to capture what the new guy was wearing, and only thought about how cold he could be. After all, the wind was starting to cause burns across his checks and nose, making them appear red and somewhat irritated. Once Deathless offered to move the conversation, Owen jumped on the opportunity.

"You are welcome to join us if your interested."Owen spoke to the new comer, noticing the nervous twitches he seemed to give off.

With a quick gesture of Owen's hand he called out to the two people. Signaling them to follow him as he started off backward and went in the direction his triangle was pointing. If they chose to follow he was sure to hear the police commotion diminish in the distance with every leap from building to building. Owen would stop once they where grounded and standing a few cars way from his own, just in case. While moving he still had no worries, he was completely satisfied with the way things where going and he already had control over almost every electric thing within a few miles radius. The air traffic wasn't as busy as he hoped, but he will make due with what is given to him.

Deathless. M indulges himself in an internal laugh. He's never heard that as a name before. Maybe it's a title. Deathless. Nevertheless M listens on, learning more above the obvious. Of course the death knight killed them. Mr. Greene's brainmatter is still on the guy's sole. There's also a bit of hair and blood. It's not something I'd wear to a PETA meeting, that's for sure. Aside from who the owner of the bodies is, it is always nice to learn the rest of a story when you've only seen the trailer. Plus, this trailer didn't mislead any viewers into thinking it's a completely different plot. Someone needs to make a law or something about those.

I don't like revenge flicks.

This is a justice picture.

Justice porn, more like.

Maybe that's Clint Eastwood under the helmet.

No, we smelled him two weeks ago. This guy doesn't reek of sulfur and whiskey.

The wind picks up. The cold feels more like a metaphor than climate as M fiddles with a tassel from his outfit. One foot faces the flashing red and blue, the other: two oddballs. The folks he is now acquaintance to seem almost sociopathic. One admits to killing and their intention to torture. The other has an odour that suggests excitement. If M was not present, the machine man may have announced 'A man after my own heart!' or maybe immediately invited the deathless knight for a rub and tug match in his car. Do either of them have cars? automobiles are rather convenient, although some days it is much better to take public transit. Smells better, too.

ghost wrote:"You are welcome to join us if your interested."

An invitation from both parties. M nods just before the lesser known man takes his leave. Of course he's joining them! However, it suits him to stay to the back. He bows, hand extended, to signal the knight to go ahead. Test their courage. Test their wisdom. The least known one here is M, suddenly appearing without a word.

Why would these two accept the company of a stranger? There is no known connection between any of the three. Well, the two of them seem like they could be chums. Are they already chums, putting on a show for M? He is the odd man (thing) out. If these two are suits in disguise, he will need to be ready to run. But what if they're expecting that? What if the police are involved, or maybe they're behind it all? No, that's too unlikely. Still, just in case something happens, one must be prepared to make a masterfully daring escape.

Underneath M's clothes two spare hands (just hands) sort through his back pocket. A flattened sparrow sewn together with care. Holding it in his grasp firmly with one hand, the taxidermic bird expands to normal proportions. The other hand removes a paper and pen from the other pocket. Something is written that is just bearable in legibility. People really shouldn't write with their ass.

If Deathless decides on a separate direction, M will follow him.

Maybe we can be the protagonist in this story?

Maybe.

Ragnar did not move from his position as the newcomer gave a slight bow while extending his hand in the direction of the other, "you go first" there was no hesitation and no room for debate it was a simple and rough command he gave to the oddly dressed being. "I will not give either of you back for even a second" his gravelly voice came out warily as he watched this being all the closer now because of his own hesitance to give Ragnar his back. This meant that he was more cautious than the one that went ahead first or perhaps that one had just been arrogant enough to believe that he couldn't be harmed by either of them, "that or you can go in your own direction" he said bluntly. Ragnar was a smart man but that did not make him the sophisticated type, in his mind brute force could accomplish a lot of things and he was more than willing to use it to get what he needed. Though he was not a simple one trick pony he knew how to get things with manipulation and money among other ways. Neither of them seemed intent on attacking him but that could just be a ruse to get him to lower his guard which would have happened if Ragnar were still a green boy.

His mind flashed back to a cold winter night like this one but the world was far different back then, he had been around for nearly fifty years after the incident at his village, snow covered the ground and the moon was full making everything glow with a blueish silver light that was reflected from the snow's surface. It was an almost magical night one could say, he found a band of people of five men and two women, the men attacked the women attempting to kill them until Ragnar stepped in. He killed the men within a few minutes and before he could even tell the women they were safe he found two swords coming through his back and out his chest, the women whispered into his ear saying thanks for killing their attackers. They left him there to die and he never saw them again, his healing factor the only thing that saved him, he later learned that those two women were thieves and killers and the men were a justified party of hunters. That was the first experience had with letting his guard down and he had been lucky because they did come back to make sure that he was dead, it was just one of many experiences that made him the man that he was today and one of his iron rules was never let your guard down.

(Blah sorry for the wait and sorry for the short post.)

"Just a few blocks..." Owen thought.
A sigh escaped as his foot landed from just the second step. He realized that the trust between the others was close to nil, and for good reason he's sure. Its not everyday you try to trust a creepy new stranger.

Owen started to laugh, "Why don't we just fight it out then?" he said sarcastically.
The words where dulled down and somewhat muffled from his mask. The same mask that was seemingly doing nothing to stop the harsh wind that liked to run across the roof tops at this time of night. It was almost starting to become miserable. The sarcasm quickly emerged into a full on thought. A sadistic thought to get warmth flowing through his body again. But has he slumped this low? Eh, he can make it out like he's crazed or something.. driven mad by the wind and cold, with the only escape through drastic violence and an outburst of rage.  

"No.." He thought.
His head bowed quickly, almost not believing he entertained such an idea. All it would take now is a quick movement from either of them to start a conflict. All thanks to Owen's big mouth. Yet, he did think it would be interesting to partake in such a fight, who knows what these people or things are capable of. They could end up giving Owen new ideas for gadgets or inventively solve world hunger, or cure cancer, if he actually cared about such a thing.

"No, It was a stupid thought and I apologize for mentioning it. It's just this cold is starting to get to me." Owen tried to ease the tension that was now in the air.

Taking a few steps closer to the center of the triangle, moving his arms and speaking with his hands.

"Look, how about we introduce our selves? My name is Owen Lear. And I am not ordinary." He spoke as he stepped out on the hypothetical limb.

By the looks of it these people where not ordinary anyway. Owen couldn't get either of them on any person finding database he had. Maybe with a clear face of them both he could, but ordinary people can be found easily enough. Facebook, Myspace, a drivers licence, a job, a name, a family, an address to a flower shop, or a car rental. But these two... there was just nothing.

Owen could feel the cold metal beginning to run down his arm, cover his chest and then down to were his coat ended. All of his body was cautiously encased in metal. The system must have picked up Owen's heart rate, feeling the tension in the air.

(OOC: It's cool man, no worries)

((Bah! I'm not making you guys wait any longer. It's not perfect, but it's something.))

Deathless is not not moving.

Should we move?

This is not an easy decision. A diplomatic solution will have to be made. However the council is too far spread out. M eases his body into an appropriate position for discussion. Shrinking down, he crouches with his toes balancing the whole. As his thighs press against his heels, his hands remove an ornate cigarette case from a side pocket. He loads up with a single shot, e-cig to a separation in the fabric where his mouth is. One may notice the design of the case: an illuminated letter,"M," typical in fashion. It's a swift action for the case to find its way back in the pocket. With the case away and the council gathered, he fills himself with a shot of honey flavour.

Why not the soother?

You weren't born yet, but the last time we did that it didn't work exactly as planned.

ghost wrote: "Why don't we just fight it out then?"

That is an idea. Fight it out. As he is in talks on what action to take next, the back-hand authorities let go of the bird, dropping it from the edge of the building. His clothes obstruct the vision of both parties from seeing its descent to pavement. There is no splat, nor plop. The impact is soft as the bird begins to flap near the bottom. A few seconds is all it takes to retain an understanding of flight. The stitched sparrow flutters, flaps, and flies its way to the nearest police car.

ghost wrote:"No, It was a stupid thought...”

Too late.

------------------------

As the cops spread out to lay down a perimeter, one takes note of the bird. She immediately turns her attention back to the job, not noticing the stitching nor the note on the leg. It's too bad, really. The sparrow's orders are to wait for someone to try to shoo it away, but everyone's too busy in the panic. Well, almost everyone.

A black 1990 crown vic pulls up to the scene. Two individuals, a male and a female, exit the vehicle. They cross the tape, briefly showing their badges to the supervising officer.

The woman frowns as she adjusts her greyscale scarf so that it more closely wraps her slender neck. Her boldly black coat flutters as she buttons it over the new knot in her scarf. Her cheeks puff up, rosy without any make-up. She looks to her partner, “Agent Wedge, when was Subject M spotted?”

Wedge clasps his hands, “We're twenty minutes behind.” This would be a challenge. He closes his eyes, breathing out a fog. His hands settle in the pockets of his tanned coat. No hat, scarf or gloves to shield him. He twirls himself around to face the nearest police officer. He steps over to her and inquires on the events that have just passed. It takes all of thirty seconds for him to be informed.

“Wedge. Over here.”

Wedge removes himself from the officer's presence and discovers his partner crouched over a shattered scattering of candy. “Agent Biggs, what did you find?”

She picks up a piece with two fingers, eyeing a partial 'S' on the red surface. “Skittles.”

“Look around. He's--”

“I know.”

They both inspect the area further. It doesn't take long for them to find nothing of significance. However, just as Wedge imagines Moltus to be long gone, he comes across a little bird on the hood of a police car.

“Biggs! I know where he is.”

Five minutes have passed since their arrival.

-------------------------

...What's that smell?

In sync with Owen's introduction, M decides on a plan. He WILL move. Just on a roof on the other side of the street. But first things first: intro. Wait, but what if M is the one who dies shortly after the introduction? No, that never happens. As long as he doesn't share any of his past it should be fine.

It's sort of a smoked bacon and cigar scent. Very familiar.

He puts his hands together, forming an M. Easily discernible. He thumbs his chest, identifying himself to the letter. Starting over, he finishes the name:

<”M-O-L-T-U-S”>

Moltus. An odd alias to have for a single individual, no? Latin for 'many' (among other possibilities according to Google). What is he, some compilation of souls about to face down the devil's bounty hunter? Sounds like it could be the name of a card in a Japanese TCG about insects. Doesn't matter.

Moltus stands firmly, quickly, suddenly. He knows that smell.

They're here.

He could run, but that might leave the other two in some trouble. Awful inconsiderate even for complete strangers. They've probably already found his police bait. What to do... what to do. Moltus quickly signs “Run!” and “Follow!” but he's not sure if either of them understand the language. He adds a few pointing gestures of “you, me” and a direction that aligns just barely with Owen's car. A nice coincidence. No time for pleasantries however. They'd only have a minute to decide. Plan A through F are scrapped. Plan G is GO GO GO! Moltus moves ahead to the next rooftop, leaping with an accidental triple axle. The boots weren't lined up properly for a straight launch. He doesn't make the landing however, and eats a clothing line. From the ground he waves over the two new acquaintances.

Moltus hasn't yet realised it, but his foxy face is now exposed. He must have forgotten to change out of it back at the hotel, too excited about the nightlife of Chicago.

The mention of a fight put Ragnar back on edge though to most he had already been on edge, his hand creeped to the back of his belt once more to grasp the sonic grenade, he had no knowledge of these two or what they could do. If worse came to worse it would be two on one and he would be the one, best case scenario those two fought revealing strengths and weaknesses to him as he watched them waste their energy in a fight over nothing. Then came Owen's introduction to the two of them as if that made any difference for all they knew it was an alias or a fake name designed to keep people away from his true identity, a name did not bring the trust level up even the tiniest bit with Ragnar. Yet it would seem that the third being would answer as well but with his fingers making letters to form Moltus, an odd name though many would say the same about Ragnar's name, it was not a human name that Ragnar knew of though which led him to believe this third being was not human. Or at least not fully human, he tried to run various ideas through his mind about what Moltus might be but there were too many things he did not know about him or it he wasn't really sure what to call Moltus at this point other than by name. Neither of them seemed to be too eager to fight even though the mention of a fight came up, Ragnar was not an overly violent man though he could commit very violent acts when necessary, he learned at a young age without power no one paid attention to you.

Even in this modern world where the people came to believe that they were more civilized and evolved than the people before them power was needed, you could be charming and rich but if you ran into a mugger one night, made the wrong move or said the wrong thing to someone, just plain unlucky you died and everyone forgot you. Sure some people were remembered for a while but in this world there weren't many that would remembered, already children and teens couldn't tell you who the first president was, they couldn't tell you who invented the plane, they couldn't tell you who discovered america. Sad times when your name could not be remembered, smarts helped in this world but still without the power to defend yourself or take action it wasn't enough that was the harshness of this world that they lived in, people weren't more evolved or civilized now. They just chose to hide it behind a wall of so called rules, they acted as if there was nothing wrong with wearing a mask around everywhere of everyday, people weren't meant to be caged they were animals and just like any other animal if you cage them they get angry and attack the jailer. Ragnar could see why people went crazy more often in this world, genetic defects, some kind of syndrome, or just born that was it all seemed like bullshit to Ragnar, he watched the average people going to work sitting there slaving away for a measly amount of money so they could support themselves or their families.

They acted like nothing was wrong just going about their day, the same thing over and over moving like robots eventually just to get through it all taking abuse from those above them. Due to the rules of society they had to do it to survive so they bottle up the negative emotions but the human brain can only take so much eventually it would snap under all the building stress and anger until boom goes the person doing something they normally never would. When an animal gets angry it tears it's enemy apart quickly but humans are the worst of animals willing to make others suffer for long periods of time even gaining satisfaction out of it, sometimes Ragnar wondered if people were even worth saving in this fucked up world, after tonight with Edgar he was leaning towards no. He went from yes and no constantly trying to decide if he should leave them to their own devices or continue to step in and show the world that there is more to it all then what they are doing, that they can be better than the scum that surrounds them everyday. Perhaps one day he would make a real decision, for now he was content to go back and forth between the options procrastinating while continuing his work which some viewed as good and some viewed as bad, just depends what kind of perspective you have he thought to himself.

As Moltus stood up suddenly Ragnar switched from his thinking to a slightly crouched position while tightening his grip upon his sonic grenade ready to dodge to one side and throw at the same time if necessary. But it seemed that Moltus was just using sign language to communicate with them once again, he wasn't all that familiar with the language as he had no real need for it but it didn't take even a mild genius to figure out the hand gestures between the three of them towards another direction. Moltus didn't seem to care if they followed as he took off on his own towards the ground, Ragnar's attention still on both of them though his main focus is now Owen who is still on the roof with him. "Well off you go then Owen as I said I won't be giving either of you my back even for a second" he said in the same gravelly wary tone as he had just seconds ago, even if the police managed to get up here in time to confront him he was not the least bit worried about it. Ragnar was small and he wore an odd outfit but there weren't many humans that could hope to defeat him one on one in single combat especially in the police force of any city, they might have guns but that didn't make them expert marksmen.

(OCC: Sorry kind of a rambling post, mostly fluff.)