Switch Accounts
Log in
Latest topics
Word Count
Shrink your Links!
Rating
Sexual Content 2: Sexual content is permitted. References and writing about genitalia and sex acts are permitted, but explicit detail is not. Fade to black, or use the dotdotdot rule. (Let's keep it PG-13.)
Violence 2: Graphic violence is permitted. Explicit description or in-game narration violence is allowed.
Despite these ratings, keep in mind that there is a limit, and you should not cross it just to garner attention. Also, resorting to curse words is also like adding senseless fluff to your posts.
License
Discord Server
Disclaimer
Superhero RPG does not own any content written or distributed by Marvel or DC Comics. All of the content referencing to Marvel or DC belongs to its rightful owners. Superhero RPG does not claim rights to any materials used such as Comic Book, Movie, or Video game character images. Superhero RPG does retain the rights to any and all posts made by the original authors that are a part of SuperheroRPG.
Copyright © 2008-2024 by Chellizard, Spirit Corgi, Atlas, and Pain. All rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the author or the Site Owners.
Dead To Rights
The SuperHero RPG :: The Superhero RPG Universe aka Roleplay Section :: North America :: United States of America :: New York City, New York
Page 1 of 1 • Share
Dead To Rights
It was unseasonably cold.
That was the first thought to dart across Alisha's mind as she climbed out of her apartment window and onto the fire escape. It wouldn't be hard to find her target that night, after all, she'd been tracking him for weeks and learning his nightly routine. The man was your average gangster; arrogant, slimy, gaudily dressed and completely assured of his own invincibility in the face of not only the law, but also the near godlike superhumans running around the city. Alisha found the attitude completely incomprehensible given some of the things she had encountered. There were people who could level cities with their power and yet ran free and unimpeded in spite of the heroes themselves having not only the ability but numerous chances to end the monsters that thought to impose their will upon the general populace. She shook her head. It was no use thinking about problems you couldn't solve yet.
Standing at the edge of her apartment's roof, the Blue Bullet debated whether or not to test her suit's enhanced agility and strength modifications to see if she couldn't make the thirty meter leap between the apartment complex and the dance studio across the way. She blinked and that was it. Decision made. No time like the present she thought as she slowly walked to the other end of the roof. In spite of her confidence in the technology, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks this early in the night. Quickly turning, Alisha bolted across the roof and jumped. She was soaring like a bird... until she began to drop like a rock about seventeen meters into the jump. Thinking quickly, she fired the grappling hook from her wrist launcher and felt a rather comforting tug as it pulled her the rest of the way in a tarzan-esque swinging motion. Finally across the admittedly large gap, Alisha sighed. Not the best start. Pressing a button on her belt she deployed Trash from its storage pouch and brought it up to full size in a matter of seconds.
"Greetings, Ma'am!" the robot chimed cheerily. "Do you perhaps need me to eviscerate some hostiles or would you rather I bring up the optimal route to tonight's unfortunate ne'er-do-well?" it continued, the pleasant blue of its ocular emitter shifting to a hellish red and then back halfway through its statement.
Gunsmith couldn't help but flash a smile. The robot's perfectly polite personality clashed with the combat programming she'd given it and the result had been that it casually described acts of carnage as though it were listing the wholesale price of yams. That hadn't been her intention, but why fix it? It was amusing and an eager assistant was far better than a reluctant one at any rate.
"The second one, Trash. We can save the evisceration for someone more important, eh?" She quipped.
"Absolutely, ma'am, just give me a moment to ping the tracker in his coat lining... aaaaaaand... got it! He's en route to 178 Martin Luther King Boulevard via... taxi cab if I'm not mistaken. I don't care for them myself, but that might just be all the rattling and crashing about."
Alisha nodded and began her series of jumps across the New York rooftops using the compass projected on her HUD for guidance. Now that she had the feel of how far she could jump, it was easy to determine which route would be the fastest. Seventeen meters. Hrmph She thought. It should have been closer to forty, but there was only so much tech you could cram into one suit without losing efficiency.
Five minutes out from her destination. She didn't need to be right on top of the bastard, that would impede her more than anything else.
"Trash, locate the optimal sharpshooting position in relation to 178 MLK Boulevard."
"Yes, ma'am. Incidentally I've pulled up the city planner's data for the establishment as well as the blueprints and it appears to be a gentleman's club. Used to be an Italian restaurant. Thought you might enjoy the tidbit."
"How many entrances, Trash?"
"Oh, only two. Converted buildings tend to be as utilitarian as possible so that owners-"
"Trash, that sniping point?"
"Right, right, right. Sorry about that, ma'am. I'm uploading the updated coordinates to your HUD now."
The data flashed on her visor and directed her to scale a building about a block away. Simple enough.
Could she run up the side? Possibly, but Alisha quite frankly wasn't in any mood to try after her earlier failure so she simply shot her grappling hook and let that do the work for her. As soon as she was atop the roof, she unshrunk a sniper rifle and began to deploy it. She would need to hurry, the Mafioso could pop out of either door any second now.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Approximately 40 minutes later.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Alisha was pouting. She tried to pretend otherwise but that was undeniably it. That asshole had gone in there before she'd even arrived and spent more than an hour inside doing god knows what. How long did a strip tease take these days?
Shaking her head, Gunsmith tried to refocus lest she miss her window and have to turn a simple fire-and-forget outing into a prolonged chase. She didn't want the mob knowing who she was just yet. As it was, they already suspected her assassinations to be the work of a rival gang and she planned to keep it that way for as long as- THERE HE WAS! The sluggish Mafioso slid out the back door and took out his cell phone.
Now was the perfect chance. Taking aim, she scoped down the sights and felt a rush of air behind her. No matter, the wind wouldn't throw off her aim at this distance.
She pulled the trigger.
That was the first thought to dart across Alisha's mind as she climbed out of her apartment window and onto the fire escape. It wouldn't be hard to find her target that night, after all, she'd been tracking him for weeks and learning his nightly routine. The man was your average gangster; arrogant, slimy, gaudily dressed and completely assured of his own invincibility in the face of not only the law, but also the near godlike superhumans running around the city. Alisha found the attitude completely incomprehensible given some of the things she had encountered. There were people who could level cities with their power and yet ran free and unimpeded in spite of the heroes themselves having not only the ability but numerous chances to end the monsters that thought to impose their will upon the general populace. She shook her head. It was no use thinking about problems you couldn't solve yet.
Standing at the edge of her apartment's roof, the Blue Bullet debated whether or not to test her suit's enhanced agility and strength modifications to see if she couldn't make the thirty meter leap between the apartment complex and the dance studio across the way. She blinked and that was it. Decision made. No time like the present she thought as she slowly walked to the other end of the roof. In spite of her confidence in the technology, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks this early in the night. Quickly turning, Alisha bolted across the roof and jumped. She was soaring like a bird... until she began to drop like a rock about seventeen meters into the jump. Thinking quickly, she fired the grappling hook from her wrist launcher and felt a rather comforting tug as it pulled her the rest of the way in a tarzan-esque swinging motion. Finally across the admittedly large gap, Alisha sighed. Not the best start. Pressing a button on her belt she deployed Trash from its storage pouch and brought it up to full size in a matter of seconds.
"Greetings, Ma'am!" the robot chimed cheerily. "Do you perhaps need me to eviscerate some hostiles or would you rather I bring up the optimal route to tonight's unfortunate ne'er-do-well?" it continued, the pleasant blue of its ocular emitter shifting to a hellish red and then back halfway through its statement.
Gunsmith couldn't help but flash a smile. The robot's perfectly polite personality clashed with the combat programming she'd given it and the result had been that it casually described acts of carnage as though it were listing the wholesale price of yams. That hadn't been her intention, but why fix it? It was amusing and an eager assistant was far better than a reluctant one at any rate.
"The second one, Trash. We can save the evisceration for someone more important, eh?" She quipped.
"Absolutely, ma'am, just give me a moment to ping the tracker in his coat lining... aaaaaaand... got it! He's en route to 178 Martin Luther King Boulevard via... taxi cab if I'm not mistaken. I don't care for them myself, but that might just be all the rattling and crashing about."
Alisha nodded and began her series of jumps across the New York rooftops using the compass projected on her HUD for guidance. Now that she had the feel of how far she could jump, it was easy to determine which route would be the fastest. Seventeen meters. Hrmph She thought. It should have been closer to forty, but there was only so much tech you could cram into one suit without losing efficiency.
Five minutes out from her destination. She didn't need to be right on top of the bastard, that would impede her more than anything else.
"Trash, locate the optimal sharpshooting position in relation to 178 MLK Boulevard."
"Yes, ma'am. Incidentally I've pulled up the city planner's data for the establishment as well as the blueprints and it appears to be a gentleman's club. Used to be an Italian restaurant. Thought you might enjoy the tidbit."
"How many entrances, Trash?"
"Oh, only two. Converted buildings tend to be as utilitarian as possible so that owners-"
"Trash, that sniping point?"
"Right, right, right. Sorry about that, ma'am. I'm uploading the updated coordinates to your HUD now."
The data flashed on her visor and directed her to scale a building about a block away. Simple enough.
Could she run up the side? Possibly, but Alisha quite frankly wasn't in any mood to try after her earlier failure so she simply shot her grappling hook and let that do the work for her. As soon as she was atop the roof, she unshrunk a sniper rifle and began to deploy it. She would need to hurry, the Mafioso could pop out of either door any second now.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Approximately 40 minutes later.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Alisha was pouting. She tried to pretend otherwise but that was undeniably it. That asshole had gone in there before she'd even arrived and spent more than an hour inside doing god knows what. How long did a strip tease take these days?
Shaking her head, Gunsmith tried to refocus lest she miss her window and have to turn a simple fire-and-forget outing into a prolonged chase. She didn't want the mob knowing who she was just yet. As it was, they already suspected her assassinations to be the work of a rival gang and she planned to keep it that way for as long as- THERE HE WAS! The sluggish Mafioso slid out the back door and took out his cell phone.
Now was the perfect chance. Taking aim, she scoped down the sights and felt a rush of air behind her. No matter, the wind wouldn't throw off her aim at this distance.
She pulled the trigger.
thegunsmith- Status :
Online Offline
Quote : "Insert Quote from Character Here" or etc.
Warnings :
Number of posts : 2
Registration date : 2016-05-09
Re: Dead To Rights
Andrew stood in the Talons HQ, floating above the city. It was a beautiful view. Yet with the view came some horrible visions. Visions of all the people he had failed, the mistakes he made. He was drawn like a magnet to this city and honestly, anyone in their right mind would relocate. Unfortunately, Andrew wasn't one who was always thinking like a normal person. He had been tracking a vigilante. This was the beginning of a new initiative he called The Vanguard movement. In layman's terms he was trying to build a network of heroes, and reform those who have been less than lawfully good with their crime fighting.
Sitting in his chair, he looked around an empty conference room. The team seemed to be all busy. Well all but Tyuki. Looking down at the table, her mask sat in the center of it.
"It's time."
Since he returned from Belarus he had dawned a new title, The Patriot. As well as a new costume.
He no longer could be The Phoenix. That title held too much pain and too many bad memories.
This was a fresh start. Sure the public would remember him as Phoenix and may even slip up, but he wouldn't ever dawn the flaming bird across his chest again. He was even swearing off using his fire unless extreme circumstance required it.
He placed the mask that once belonged to Eclipse across his face.
"This is the only way to honor you, Tyuki. At least the only way I can think of."
After the events in Canada A.I. had gone up there and searched for survivors, only to find nothing. Sean had left a note, in case Phoenix returned.
"The need a hero. No. They need a guy who will do the right thing. Even if that means it hurts me."
He was prepared for his court date to become legally reinstated as alive, but that was a week away.
Tonight his mission was The Blue Bullet. The Gunsmith. He knew where she would be going.
He had figured out her pattern of attacking and figured out who her next target would be.
A member of the mob named Michael Aprilli. No one to write home about. Sure he was high up in the ranks, and causing havoc on the criminal under world, but the police were closing in on him just as much as Alisha was.
"Computer, locate Michael Aprilli" Andrew spoke out.
A holographic map formed atop the table, showing exactly his location. He was getting out of a taxi, the idiot had paid with a credit card.
"They make it too easy now a days."
He put the coordinated to a building across the street from where the mob met.
He held his breath and pressed his dog tags.
A gust of wind formed at the scene of where he re-materialized. He noticed he was standing right behind his target.
"Well how about that?" he laughed to himself. He saw her finger on the trigger.
"Gotta move fast."
He moved full speed to the end of the building, grabbed the bullet of the air, and returned behind her.
He focused on the barrel of the gun and ice began to form around it.
He cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear him.
Holding the bullet outright for her to see once she turned around, he noticed the robot with her.
"I came to talk. Please don't make this a fight."
Sitting in his chair, he looked around an empty conference room. The team seemed to be all busy. Well all but Tyuki. Looking down at the table, her mask sat in the center of it.
"It's time."
Since he returned from Belarus he had dawned a new title, The Patriot. As well as a new costume.
He no longer could be The Phoenix. That title held too much pain and too many bad memories.
This was a fresh start. Sure the public would remember him as Phoenix and may even slip up, but he wouldn't ever dawn the flaming bird across his chest again. He was even swearing off using his fire unless extreme circumstance required it.
He placed the mask that once belonged to Eclipse across his face.
"This is the only way to honor you, Tyuki. At least the only way I can think of."
After the events in Canada A.I. had gone up there and searched for survivors, only to find nothing. Sean had left a note, in case Phoenix returned.
"The need a hero. No. They need a guy who will do the right thing. Even if that means it hurts me."
He was prepared for his court date to become legally reinstated as alive, but that was a week away.
Tonight his mission was The Blue Bullet. The Gunsmith. He knew where she would be going.
He had figured out her pattern of attacking and figured out who her next target would be.
A member of the mob named Michael Aprilli. No one to write home about. Sure he was high up in the ranks, and causing havoc on the criminal under world, but the police were closing in on him just as much as Alisha was.
"Computer, locate Michael Aprilli" Andrew spoke out.
A holographic map formed atop the table, showing exactly his location. He was getting out of a taxi, the idiot had paid with a credit card.
"They make it too easy now a days."
He put the coordinated to a building across the street from where the mob met.
He held his breath and pressed his dog tags.
A gust of wind formed at the scene of where he re-materialized. He noticed he was standing right behind his target.
"Well how about that?" he laughed to himself. He saw her finger on the trigger.
"Gotta move fast."
He moved full speed to the end of the building, grabbed the bullet of the air, and returned behind her.
He focused on the barrel of the gun and ice began to form around it.
He cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear him.
Holding the bullet outright for her to see once she turned around, he noticed the robot with her.
"I came to talk. Please don't make this a fight."
Andrew- Mega Poster!
- Status :
Online Offline
Quote : "We Fight For Those Who Can't."
Warnings :
Number of posts : 619
Location : Beantown
Age : 29
Job : Vigilante
Humor : Franklin Guidaboni, Grown men who argue with teenagers, Adam Paxton, and Dominus
Registration date : 2011-12-22
Similar topics
» I need a dead guy...
» From The Dead
» He wants me dead...nothing new
» Lord of the Dead
» Even A Dead god May Dream
» From The Dead
» He wants me dead...nothing new
» Lord of the Dead
» Even A Dead god May Dream
The SuperHero RPG :: The Superhero RPG Universe aka Roleplay Section :: North America :: United States of America :: New York City, New York
Page 1 of 1
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Yesterday at 5:15 pm by Cynical_Aspie
» COOKING WITH DANGER!
Yesterday at 2:20 pm by SicilianDragon
» Lingering Sentiments
November 20th 2024, 1:05 am by Cynical_Aspie
» Quickdraw's Experience Sheet
November 18th 2024, 9:44 pm by Cynical_Aspie
» S.A.M
November 18th 2024, 7:39 pm by DVC
» DVC joins the fight
November 17th 2024, 8:40 pm by DVC
» Cat Hunt
November 16th 2024, 4:00 pm by Cynical_Aspie
» The Most Dangerous Game
November 16th 2024, 3:05 am by Tybrid
» This Time With Gusto
November 16th 2024, 2:51 am by Tybrid
» The Fire of Conviction
November 16th 2024, 2:41 am by Tybrid
» Hell and Consequences [Alert]
October 28th 2024, 8:11 pm by Hyperion
» Recruitment Tour (Quickdraw, Celeste, and Stareater)
October 28th 2024, 2:24 am by Cynical_Aspie