No Sleep Til Brooklyn
Roleplaying Log: No Sleep Til Brooklyn
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

The Birds of Prey — and Domino, Spider-Man (2), and Doctor Fate! — infiltrate and rescue metahumans from mob-funded traffickers. Unfortunately, the news doesn't spin that well for our heroes.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: July 09, 2019
IC Location: Prospect Park YMCA, Brooklyn
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 10 Jul 2019 05:02
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 (Language and Violence)
NPC & GM Credits: Barbara Gordon
Associated Plots

It has been a year since the Prospect Park YMCA closed because of a water contamination and then never reopened despite promises of an entire renovation of its facilities. It had been part of some Brooklyn Clean-Up project where the facility got a large anonymous donation to get the pool fixed, a whole new gymnasium, and a half a dozen classroom spaces for after school clubs including a dojo for free martial arts classes. It sits quietly three blocks up from the actual Prospect Park on 9th Street.

The building is a classic New York City structure — comb-shaped with courtyards and side entrances between the 'teeth,' tall with hard corners and smooth yellowing exterior. The entrance is dark and windows darker. The Birds of Prey have situated themselves on a corner, half-hiding behind a CVS sign. Its glow gives some great cover actually as no one squints up into that crimson neon. The Birds had just finished their overview of the plan: two points of entry with Jess and Hawkgirl heading into the alley entrance with Dinah, Frank, and Dinah taking the front entrance.

Jess and Hawkgirl have already left to take position, leaving the three to make their move across that same alley and to the second entrance that leads into the YMCA.

It's quiet because it's sometime close to midnight, so Batgirl keeps her voice quiet, "Alright. Get to the ground, get to the door, get inside. Get in, get the families out, secure the bad guys." That's worse than saying 'team-up.'


"That simple, huh?" Dinah remarks, offhandedly. She's geared up for a proper fight. Knee and elbowpads. Reinforced lead lininig in her glove knuckle pads. A corset under her leather jacket with visible stab-plates protecting her midsection, leotard zipped up to cover her throat like a gorget.

She moves to the door, tests the handle once, nods at the others. "Not locked," she murmurs. Fingers flash at Barbara, speaking in clipped but functional ASL. 'Push in, I'll go right, you go left, slide the walls?' she proposes of Batgirl. Classic Bat doctrine, seize the flanks and prevent reinforcements from moving through, then hit the enemy from behind. It's a proven old technique that works splendidly.

Y'know. When it works.


The Punisher is in full regalia, including the unseasonable black trenchcoat that hides some of his hardware. He's got a pump-action shotgun, several pistols, and his knife. There are thick rounds tucked into loops in his belt, translucent plastic with weighty bags inside. Is the Punisher going… non-lethal? Never fear, the pistols still carry lead rounds. He half-racks the slide, checking the top round, then adds, "What's wrong with the vest I got you, Blondie? Not stylish enough?" He nods to Batgirl, "I've got trail. Let me know if you need cover up front." He follows after the pair readily enough, quieting down. He frowns down at the flash of fingers, shaking his head just a touch to himself, and reminding himself to provide some upgrade suggestions for vOS — subvocal mics and a radio function.


Safely shuffling metahumans and their families out of the New York area had been a side project which Domino was involved with for a time, herself. Between her own efforts having tapered off due to other engagements and the demand for safe passage far outweighing any available services to provide said passage it was only a matter of time before the wrong kinds of people decided to step in and 'lend a hand.'

She doesn't mind the competition. Frankly she barely made enough out of this process to break even with travel costs. However, when the competition involves the mob and their traditional methods of coercion she couldn't remain idle for long.

Also it'd be a great chance to practice some non-lethal takedowns with fully lethal munitions. Mobsters can be a real hoot like that.

It's a fortunate oversight that someone left an upstairs window open, probably to help cool down the building's interior during the dark hours. Getting inside is simple, even with the somewhat bulkier polycarbonate paneling of her heavier armor. She may as well play with a hint more caution if she isn't playing for keeps. With a suppressed compact PDW on hand and plenty more weapons on tap the mercenary begins her sweep.


The door is unlocked, and it opens to the typical lobby of an YMCA — tight berber carpet, overhead florescent lighting, a counter-wrapped receptionist area, and colorful signs that direct people to the primary areas of the Y: The Pool, The Gym, The Bathrooms, The Day Center. There are locked doors — thick, metal and with wire-reinforced windows that secure the YMCA when off-hours.

It's dark, and there's random refuse on the floor. Batgirl pauses just behind Black Canary to look around, taking in each little detail. Then she is looking toward the doors that secure the lobby from the rest of the facility. "Eenie, meenie, minie, moe." She points at each door in turn. "Where would they keep people waiting transport to Jersey?"

Upstairs, Domino finds herself in what looks like a young child's daycare room — brightly colored balloons on the wall, empty toy chests and shelves, and chairs that are far too small for average adults. There's some disturbing things in there that tell her how it has been repurposed: there's a dozen or more slender, ugly mattresses on the floor, boxes of belongings left behind; a small teddy bear has been discarded onto the floor, and it wears a Red Sox t-shirt.

Beyond the closed door, there's faint echoes heard like someone is talking in a large cave. The words are impossible to make out.


After entering the alley entrance, Hawkgirl and Jessica Jones had agreed to split up so they can cover more ground. Or, in gamer terms, perhaps, take more damage. But "the Ornery Owl", AKA Power Pidgen, AKA Jewel, AKA JESUS CHRIST ITS JONES WOULD YOU PEOPLE STOP is feeling even more ornery than usual. Less up to Peopling than usual.

She opens drawers and pantries, a cigarette dangling from her mouth, looking scruffier than normal in ripped jeans, scuffy combat boots, a band T-shirt and her leather jacket. She ought to have worn more bulletproof shit than the jacket, but in the mood she's in she just does not care. The hate and anger she feels over the nature of their Prey means she is envisioning smashing heads into pulp a lot more than she's envisioning getting shot.

So far, though, what she's found is a whole lot of nothing. Protein bars. Canned goods. Water bottles. She puts her hand on a hot coffee pot and nods grimly; at least they know someone's here.

Into her earbud, murmured low, "Kitchen's a bust. But they've been here recently. Moving on."

It's all a little muffled around the Marlboro Red in her mouth. And she does indeed go creeping towards the next room she can get to from here.


So. This is happening.

Spider-Man: The Remix has managed to do his thing and get himself inside of this building without too much of a fuss. No great plan to get inside so much as he just kind of skittered through a window after swinging across town to get here. Word on the street is that there is some serious metahuman trafficking going on. Which, okay, could be good for the community and the metahumans if it is getting them out of the city and away from all this drama.

But: Mobsters.

There's always a downside and this downside are those dudes with the suits and the fedoras and all that jazz. Never really a good sign those people.

Staying hidden is the name of the game right now and the Ultimate Spider-Man is already tucked away into the shadows of the ceiling when there are voices and such that arrive on the scene. Miles holds still every once and awhile before skittering silently closer and getting his eavesdrop on. These could be those mobsters! Or worse!

… Maybe he should've texted Peter about this. But no. NO! He can't always rely on his semi-Mentor! Gotta' stand up and do something for himself sometime!

…. This doesn't have to be one of those times, though.

MILES! SPIDER UP!

Sigh.


Dinah stops and thinks about it for a few seconds. "No windows," she concludes, finally. "Wouldn't trust 'em near regular staff. Basement," she concludes, making it more statement than question.

"Okay." Dinah looks at Babs and Frank, makes a short gesture. "You two push upstairs, sweep the upstairs storage. Look for places where members aren't allowed. Meet with Power Pigeon," she says, smirking as the communicator carries her voice. "I'll radio up if I find anything below. No idea how deep the basement is. I'll hit the fire alarm if shit goes totally pear-shaped." She gives Babs' hand a quick squeeze and exchanges a look with the redhead, then turns to Frank. Frank gets punched in the shoulder. "Watch out for my buddy," she scolds him— and starts towards the stairs down to the basement storage area.


"Pool," Frank suggests immediately, his gravelly comment quiet in the quiet of the lobby, "Their defenses'll be about keepin' people in, not out. Only way into a pool is through changing rooms. Controls access." He looks around, "Easy access to bathrooms. Large living area." The words growl out with easy surety. It's almost like he's raided a prison camp before. Granted, it wasn't a mob-run one in the middle of Brooklyn, so… grain of salt. He glances over to Dinah as she proposes her alternative suggestion, and he shrugs a little helplessly, not contradicting her decision. He rocks easily under the punch to the shoulder, "Better believe I will. Watch your six, Blondie. Don't like splittin' the squad up so far, but…" he shrugs again, clearly willing to let them take the lead on this one.


Yeah, this isn't off to a good start. Dollars to donuts the rumors about what's been going on down here are accurate. Surrounded by the daycare decorations Domino is feeling particularly out of place with so much black tactical gear but it isn't the first time she's been in such a situation. This setting may be grim but it's about to get a whole lot worse for someone else.

Then there's the voices. Hopefully the door in here hadn't been locked because she needs to go through it.

Since she's flying solo it's all about weeding out the stragglers and using stealth and surprise to her advantage. Anywhere that some of the mobsters may have broken off for a time is a good place to start. Bathrooms and the kitchen, in particular. Human or mutant, everyone has the same basic needs.

Except for those -really weird- metas…

It's the scent of a cigarette which she latches onto first. Someone must have 'stepped out' for a smoke break. Their mistake.

Of course, visual identification is going to have to wait until the individual with the Marlboro happens to step out from the kitchen and up to a corner intersection in the hall. It's here that the business end of a PDW suppressor is magically leveled square at Jessica Jones' temple.

There's the gun..but there is no bullet. Domino is -just- confused enough to stay any resulting trigger-happiness.

"Looking for someone?"


Miles does his skittering work across the ceiling, and he finds himself in a hallway. It has all its rooms on the same side because it is windowed on the other side to look out over the pool area. Voices echo from down below through the single-pane windows. There's about a dozen or more goons down there, all in varying degrees of danger levels — some are in vests, carrying automatic weapons, others are in t-shirts and jeans with pistols tucked immaturely in their waistbands. They are spread around the pool's edge, and inside the drained cement basin are almost three dozen people, all clumped and huddled together. Most are obviously metahuman — scales, odd-shaped limbs, inhuman features — but there are some who could easily pass. Some hold each other's shoulders, or hands, others stand apart, eyeing their captives warily.

A man in a pressed suit — tall, broad, with salt and pepper hair and stern features — is speaking to the group, but his words are muffled. One of the metahumans in the drained pool steps forward, and by his face, he's snarling something back at the suited man.

Domino and Jessica Jones cross paths in the cafeteria — tables pushed up against the walls and more empty mats and mattresses on the floor. There's a stench in the air that smells like a bathroom gone sour. There's also something that smells a little like fresh decay — probably under that tablecloth thrown over something lumpy near the wall.

In the lobby, Babs casts a glance to Dinah and her eyes widen a bit. "Canary, you shouldn't go alone," she protests. But then she's given a squeeze and that sets her mouth thin. When she punches Frank, her mouth thins more. She gives Frank a speculative look, like why didn't he contradict that idea. But then she's being drawn along with him to the pool area. Or they would push through the pool area, but the door is locked. Reinforced as it is, Frank's boot isn't going to do much good, so Babs squats down to work the door unlocked.

Dinah goes downstairs, and she's just about three steps to the storage facility below, she catches the sound of people talking where a door stands open into a room labeled as POOL STORAGE. There's about four voices in all, and they are all arguing in whispered voices that make their words hard to make out, but tone easy to detect.


You could stand to use a lot more force sometimes.

From Bucky Barnes' mouth to Jessica's ear. The remembered words float back to her as her world narrows to the gun at her temple. Spoken so evenly, but with so much raw caring for her.

She freezes, puts her hands up, eye sliding towards the gun as best as she can see it. She remembers her lifesblood sliding away, waking to find her mind scrambled and her powers diminished by a sniper's bullet. She has a healthy respect for guns. A very healthy respect.

Either way, what she should do is reach up, smash the barrel, and kick this woman into oblivion. But oddly it's Dinah's voice that stops her. She and Dinah met basically the same way. Two heroes coming for the same issue. She doesn't have proof that this is one of the traffickers. Not yet. And…well. She's on an open line.

And the thing is, while most people assume Jess is a very violent woman, for the most part (certain altercations with certain telepaths notwithstanding), she prefers using her words to using her fists. She's very conscious that one punch from her can keep most people from getting up for good. And not only is she not particularly cavalier about taking human lives (for all that she fantasizes about smashing trafficker heads into pulp), but people who are dead are really bad about giving information unless John Constantine or Zatanna Zatara are along for the ride. And even then, it's iffy.

But she's also learned never to let anyone see her sweat.

So she takes a drag on the cigarette, puffs out a ring of smoke, and says, "Yeah. Assholes who think its cute to sell other people into slavery. Put that thing down, lady. Because, if you shoot me with that thing."

Another drag off her cigarette. "I'm going to pluck the hot bullet right off my $400 jacket, and then I'm going to shove it into your eye with my pinky finger. And which one of us do you think that will hurt more?"

Her mind cheerfully paints a picture of her brains splattered all over the smiling face of the Quaker Man holding up his chocolate chip granola bars for the customer's inspection.


Ummmmmmmm.

This is what Miles Morales, aka Spider-Man Too, uses for a reaction shot when he realizes what is going on down below in the pool area. "Great. Juuuuust great. Welcome to the slightly bigger leagues, Spider-Man." Spider-Miles crawls back up to above the window-panes and starts traveling across the top of them to hopefully find a vent to go through. There's got to be a vent. There's always a vent. Even pools need to be ventilated, right?

"Hey, Spidey Jr., where were you when you were supposed to be working on that project for AP Bio? Oh, y'know, getting shot at and punched in the face by about a zillion mobsters trying to turn slavery into a new economic marketplace in the middle of my borough." Miles' whisper convo with himself just continues as he has forgotten about any new entrants into the building in favor of focusing on getting the drop on The Sopranos of Sesame Street.

"Oh? Sounds pretty neat. Did you die? Yeah. A little."

At least he's got the talking to himself thing down. That's like Spider-Class 101.


There's been a change of plans: instead of going to a working pool after a good two hours of studying (who studies in a YMCA???), Khalid Nassour finds himself pressed against the walls. He may not have honed senses to figure something's gone wrong, but he does have a penchant for feeling a tangible tension in the air.

So he does what anyone does in this kind of situation: he tries to make a break for it.

Unfortunately for him, he still needs to work on finding his escape routes early on. In his attempt, he has gone too far down the stairs and past the lobby, ending up in the same stairwell where Dinah happens to be.

Catching a glance of the woman out of his peripheral vision, he startles, his breath hitching in his throat to keep from yelling in surprise. He clutches the strap of his backpack as a means to keep his balance upon his descent, sneakers shuffling as they try to about-face right then and there.

Who is this person? And why are there voices coming from down there? Maybe they shouldn't be there.

Maybe he shouldn't be here???

But here he is. And he's hoping Dinah doesn't mistake him for a suspect. He's dressed like a poor med student trying to stay cool in this weather, please let him live.


Dinah turns and looks at Khalid, eyes widening slightly behind the angles of her domino mask. It's enough to confuse AI face scanners, blend up her outline a bit. Her honey-blond hair's pulled back in a tight ponytail which makes her look only leaner and fiercer. All blue eyes and hard edges to her cheekbones.

Those baby blues create deception as Dinah accelerates with bewildering speed at Khalid. She jams his hands up, forces him off-balance and into a corner where he's got no leverage against her more petite frame.

His elbow's caught under her bicep, wrist bent sharply in her clutch, and she locks him down in a strong 'come along' jointlock and clamps one hand over his mouth.

"'shhhh'," she says, the words more mouthed than spoken aloud. Almost suggesting them with a breathe of wind. The out-of-place kid is given a hard-eyed once over as if Dinah's considering breaking his neck or just leaving him comatose in a corner somewhere.


The Punisher shrugs a little helplessly at Batgirl's disappointed look, and he shrugs a little, waiting until Dinah heads for the stairs and then stepping up behind Babs to murmur, "She's a big girl. And we'll be ready to go fast if she needs us." They're stymied by the door a moment, and he adds quietly, "I got four shock-lock rounds if we need 'em, R — Batgirl." But she's got her picks out, and so he just stacks up right behind her, his calf against her thigh for a bit of silent communication, watching their backs as she works, "When you've got it, open it and I'll go through first." And draw their fire, of course. Would take that role if she wasn't Barbara Gordon? If she wasn't a woman? Yeah, probably.


Curious. Domino is here because of word that metahumans are being held against their will and yet it would appear that she found one wandering about, given the verbal threat which immediately follows their unusual encounter.

"Well aren't we presumptuous today," the albino replies with a sly looking smirk. "But it turns out I'm looking for the very same assholes. Fancy that."

Jessica's confidence (arrogance) in that response also tells Dom a few things. Jess doesn't appear to be bluffing. Most people who can take direct weapons fire without taking a scratch have that overly gung-ho attitude about them, it's par for the course. Those who are faking it usually have tells. All it takes is one person to call them on it to ruin the moment.

The gun is lowered, though she feels the need to point out "Also I wasn't aiming at your jacket. Respect the leather." More than the other lady's head, apparently! Clearly Dom has her priorities in order.

"Tell you what. Since you're bleeding confidence from being so edgy, you can take point. If you're half as boss as you claim to be then we'll make real short work of these bastards."

This is followed by a hooked brow and a subtle cant of her head in the direction they should probably be heading. Sound good? Jessica can take it or leave it, Neena's still got a score to settle.


The older metahuman is taking threatening steps forward, raising his finger to the man in the suit while he yells angry words. Miles can hear some of it — families, homes, vile, fear-mongering. It fits well with the way some of them cower in the pool. There's a small child that starts to cry, turning into what might be his mother's leg. Emotions are escalating, and the guards are noticing it while they shift in their stances. A younger thug has his pistol out now, holding it steadily in his hand.

The man in the suit makes a gesture, and there's a figure behind him — she went unnoticed until now. She's short, and petite with an uneven bob of blond hair. She gestures slightly, and suddenly the older metahuman drops to the ground while clutching what is a suddenly broken shinbone. She bows her head again, stepping backwards, looking sullen. The man in the suit gestures, as if inviting further complaint.

In the cafeteria between Domino and Jess, things might escalate as well, but then there's two mobster thugs coming into the cafeteria through the reinforced door. They are carrying two huge garbage bags, looking grim. They are here for clean-up, but when they look up to see the scruffy PI and the tactical geared mercenary, they both pause and blink. "Hey!" One finally calls, and he's dropping his bag in favor of his pistol. Good thing they just decided to team-up — um, combine operations.

Downstairs in the basement, the goons in the pool supply room suddenly go quiet, but only because one of them just asked for quiet. There's a long hush before the start talking again, and one of them says something dismissive. A pool noodle is the first thing seen as a tall woman in paramilitary clothes starts to step out of that hallway and into view of Khalid and Dinah.

Batgirl pops the lock quietly, and then she looks up at Frank. She nods once, and shifts her stance so she can open the door and be out of his way so he can get inside. She is in a low, backwards lunge as she holds the door, and from her belt she tugs out two razor-edged batarangs. Once Frank is through, she's falling in quickly behind him. The door opens up into a little antechamber with a couple stainless steel drinking fountains, and then a door on either side: MEN'S LOCKER ROOM, WOMEN'S LOCKER ROOM. There's also a family changing room.

Babs flashes Frank a look. "So… do we go for the tampon dispensers or urinals?"


"I'm presumptuous every day," Jessica replies, her tone unrelenting in its sourness. But where she didn't have tells before, she has one as soon as Domino lowers the gun and cracks her joke. Pretexting is part of her gig, but there's no hiding the small sigh of relief.

"And good on you for respecting the leather, but I was bullshitting you about the bulletproof part."

She flinches a little as she says that, and mutters, with an irritable tilt of her head: "That's someone else's schtick."

And yet she takes point with no complaints at all, and with no apparent fear. And no apparent weapons. She was going to go in by herself anyway, after all. And while it may be a little crazy to put her back to a woman who just greeted her with a gun, Jessica's gut tells her this is probably fine. A trafficker wouldn't have lowered the gun. And as she does, she adds:

"So. Yeah. Really only about half as boss."

And that's when the bad guys show up. And since they are the bad guys, and shooting, Jessica picks up a table and tries to hurl it at them. She figures it will either take the bullets, or scatter them so that the gunwoman can take them out.


Miles creeps until he finds himself a vent access so that he can get himself all up into the pool area. His Spider-Sense goes a little wacky but that might be because of random gunshots happening somewhere nearby but he's focused on getting himself into the pool area and such.

No more random talking to himself because voices carry through the vents and he makes sure to go invisible before he makes with the creeping out of the ventilation so that he can be ready to, y'know, do the hero thing.

When the time comes.

If he doesn't choke.


'Oh god, don't kill me' is the thing Khalid never gets to say. Probably for the better, anyway — between being not ready for anything and with the sheer amount of force Dinah uses to pin him back, he bends easily, keeping his mouth shut well enough that a muffled yelp can barely be heard as he's walked to the side.

He shakes his head. It's the only other thing he can do at this point. Trying to explain and maybe complain about the roughness keep the need to be quiet in balance, brow lifting, then furrowing as he's given a once-over.

On a personal note, he would really like to keep his neck in one piece. And he would very much like to stay awake.

Being awake also has the added benefit of tapping into the nerves Khalid has built up in a matter of seconds, his eyes darting wildly about as he waits for the voices to start talking again. That helps alleviate part of the problem, at least, but it does nothing for when he lets his gaze fall upon the pool noodle.

Wait. No. That's a very tall woman in their way.

"Mmph!" the hapless med student tries to warn Dinah as quietly as he can, struggling as he backpedals a few steps so that they aren't spotted right away.


Dinah's eyes narrow, then widen at Khalid's response. It's autonomic. He's scared. Can't fake that, not to someone with Dinah's experience. Kid's a nobody, a civilian in the line of fire. He's scared.

That's fair. It's a scary place.

Dinah pushes off of Khalid, stealing his momentum and more importantly pushing him to the floor. Silent as a pluging… well, bird of prey, the blonde lunges for the tall woman. Butterfly punch to the throat to stop any choked cries of panic. Sharp kick to the knee to drop her down. Dinah ducks low, slides under, grabs an arm and rolls across the woman's back to flip her.

Except she's going entirely the wrong way, and the move dislocates the woman's arm with a hoarse cry of pain. Ass over teakettle she goes and Dinah's on her in a squirmy flash, trying to get a chokehold on the other woman. Once past that initial surprise, the taller combatant proves to have some leverage of her own and starts throwing weak but furious punches at Dinah to stave off being choked out.

"Throw me a weapon!" Dinah seethes at Khalid, hoarsely. Eyes dart to a bucket of pool tools and old supplies near him.


Frank pivots as Babs shifts, feeling the motion coming up through his leg. He goes through the door without hesitation, moving to his right and bringing up the shotgun as he clears the door. He sweeps the little antechamber, then shakes his head, grumbling, "Clear." He nods to her, then blinks at the question, shrugging, "Don't think I've been in a ladies' room since high school." When he has already admitted he was an asshole. Thankfully, he was married, so the express mention of tampons only gets a dry, amused 'really?' look from Frank, but then he pauses and notes quietly, "Mooks are more likely to be guys, right?" and then he gestures toward the men's room. Because his idea of an assault is going through the defense force rather than around them and leaving them to cause trouble on the way out. And there he goes, stepping toward the men's room. He gives the door a nudge with his boot-toe and slips through, shotgun raising up as he heads straight in.


Okay, hold the phone. This chick WAS bluffing? Domino gives Jess a proper look as soon as the admission is offered. "Lady, you've got a world class Poker face goin' on. Though try to lighten the hell up some, there are people here more deserving of the ire than me."

Yet Jess still takes point. Arrogant to a fault, Dom's guessing. Miss Jacket up there might benefit from having some proper fire support. Time will tell.

Scratch that, two displaced goons will tell -right now.-

And suddenly the new girl is launching a friggin' TABLE at them both. Half as boss, no doubt!

The table works wonders both in interrupting the mobsters' lines of sight but also in giving the albino a focal point for a counter-attack. One that doesn't revolve around craniums or vital organs. Before the table can strike the two she's crouched low to the ground and taking shots at their ankles. There's likely going to be a lot of screaming if the furniture fling doesn't knock them both out but it sounds like shit might be going south all over the place, already.

"I get the feeling we aren't alone with these idiots! Did you show up as a package deal?"


A new player arrives on the scene one Kendra Saunders, or rather Hawkgirl, as she's known in the heroic community.

For those on the comms that the Birds of Prey use Kendra's voice suddenly pipes over the line, "I'm coming in hot."

Seconds after those words are said a winged silhouette appears in the skylight above. Then the skylight shatters as mace meets window.

It doesn't take long for Hawkgirl to drop within the Y and as soon as she does, her keen eyes flit around to get the whole lay of the land as she hovers mid-air a moment. It doesn't take long for her gaze to fall upon those that can be found in the waterless pool.

"So sorry I'm late. Took me forever to find the appropriate suit to wear, but better late than never right?"

Again those words are mainlined for the BoP comm, but honestly Kendra's speaking in her typical voice and she's not necessarily a soft-spoken individual.

Nor does she seem to mind making herself a target up in the air like that.

Diversions and distractions, sometimes they're a good thing! Hopefully they are now!


The pink pool noodle goes thumping across the floor toward Khalid at the impact from the Black Canary. The thug didn't see that coming as she's flung, arm dislocating with a cry and thump. Then there's a tussling sprawl, and that's all it takes for the three other baddies to make their appearance, scrambling into sight. Two brandish pistols, but this is not exactly the safest place to fire them, and another has something that looks pretty much like a steel pipe wrapped with duct tape. The pipe wielder is heading for Khalid while one of the other pistoleers is reading to pistol-whip Dinah across the head.

With all the excitement downstairs and in the kitchen, Babs and Frank are running into a whole lot of quiet. Batgirl smirks a look at the Punisher, and then she casually pushes her way into the men's locker room. "Perv," is all she says about high school Frank Castle. The lights automatically flash on, showing the typical insides of a locker room — concrete floors, steel lockers, benches, showers, bathrooms. Standing in the doorframe, leaning into the thick plastic strips hanging from the top edge, is a mook with an automatic rifle tucked against him that would suggest one thing — professional, ex-military, and not just your typical mook. The open door to the pool makes it all the easier to hear the fevered whimpers of fearful people, and the smooth tenor of a man speaking with a cold tone.

Batgirl presses her hand gently to the side of her ear, speaking, "Pigeon, Canary, Hawkgirl — we found them. They're at the pool."

Of course, Jess is throwing a table across the room and slamming into one of the while the other ducks out of the way long enough for him to get shot in the ankle by Domino — well, they both get shot in the ankles, but one is pinned by a table at the moment, so he doesn't count anymore. The other careens to the floor, sliding across his discarded trash bag. He is screaming out in pain before he grabs at his gun, and starts to fire at the two in rapid, unfocus fire. Most of it goes wild, but it might be enough to make them split or find cover. At the door of the cafeteria, five more mooks come pouring in (oops, choke point). Perhaps because of Domino's luck field, a bullet slams into a panel on the wall and the speakers in the ceiling come to life playing, "This is Q 104.3, and now let's get into one of those modern marvels — AC/DC." And then T.N.T. starts to play. Enjoy your combat music, ladies.

In the pool area, screams erupt with the shattered glass of the skylight. One of the captured metahumans throws up her hands and glass shards are suddenly suspended in air. Or they would be, but then someone in the crowd grabs him and pulls him down as panic builds; the glass continues its fall, a bit slower to reach velocity this time. Heads are turning up toward Hawkgirl, and with that, gunfire erupts wihtout thinking twice.

"Shoot that damn bird down!" The suit snarls.


"Yeah, I know there are. They get more of it," Jessica grunts. But she has an appreciation for how easily Domino takes advantage of the opening she gave her, too. This woman knows her shit.

Hearing 'I'm coming in hot' and the sound of breaking glass somewhere ahead, she offers: "Yeah. I came with others."

She really does scatter when the gunfire starts, diving behind a food cart.

"And so did they," she mutters grimly. Though she tilts her head to one side as the fight music starts. Yeah, okay. That's pretty freaking boss.

She waits for an opportune moment, a moment when the gunshots seem to be a little less intense. And then she takes a flying leap across the room to land behind the group of new gunmen. Whereupon she attempts to grab two of them so she can hurl them into their fellows. She figures that will make life a little harder on them.

Somewhere in all this madness she has dropped her cigarette. Freakin' annoying.


"…"

Both Miles and his Mind are at a loss for words at the CHAOS that goes down within moments.

"Welp. There goes the element of surprise." is muttered as he uninvisibles himself whilst leaping into the air to give himself some room to do something.

Wait, wait. This is an opening for a quip. Say a quip!

"Okay! Weirdest going away party ever, right? Violent flying pinata?" Miles sticks himself to the ceiling and flings off a few quick web-lines for some gun snatching action because he can't have bullets flying around in this place like this. Not when there are innocent uh… people hanging around here and trying to not die.

"Bad idea. Just saying!"

Thwip-Thwip-Thwip-Thwip!

Keep people alive first. Then punch people in the face.


'Scared' is the operative term for it. It's not a lie, but the med student is still functioning. Mostly. He feels the floor faster than he thought he would, knocking the wind out of him again once he's not the focus anymore.

His mind races. He's free to move, free to run while Dinah is busy fighting the paramilitary-dressed woman. He can't help if she ran over to fight. That's her choice.

'Throw me a weapon!'

Fight, or flight. Khalid breathes hard. He must choose one. At the same time, his eyes dart over at the pool tools.

…Help her.

I was getting to that, he addresses the disembodied voice in his head, scrambling over to the pool supplies as fast as he can with his backpack dragging along to one side. Getting to his feet, he grabs whatever he can — pink pool noodle, pool net with a long pole, bucket full of random crap — and snaps his head up when he hears the sound of footsteps hurrying to see what's going on.

Pistols and a steel pipe. That's so not fair.

Gritting his teeth, Khalid chucks the pool net Dinah's way. "Here!" It's heavier than it looks, and he's disappointed in his throw, but it should be close enough to reach for. As for the guys heading his way, he turns sharply, armed with the pool noodle.

…He should've kept the net.

Sucking in a breath, he actually THROWS the POOL NOODLE at the men like a javelin. Because throwing it horizontally would have been counter-productive. It's…not spectacular, but it's enough of a distraction to then nervously swing the bucket full of random parts and send it skidding across the floor toward their feet. Like bowling. Yeah, that's it. He then tries to get out of the way, running away from the trio once things are set in motion. "Don't look now, but they have better weapons!" he half-tells, half-shouts at Dinah, the strain of calm in his voice mingling with the panic that threatens to rise to the surface.


Dinah stares at the net sliding at her. Woman on the ground, broken shoulder, Dinah's looking for something to knock her out, and Khalid… throws her a net.

"The fuck am I, Xena?" she snaps. "Give me something I can work with here!"

There's a *pwing*, a *zing*, and a *thock* and the woman on the ground abruptly jerks to the side, unconscious. A red mark adorns her brow and a lead bullet, heavily deformed, skitters to a stop on the floor.

The whole room— Dinah, Khalid, the thugs— goes quiet at that improbability. Dinah looks around, hands spread, and her eyes go skywards.

"…well, thank you, God," she mutters. Note to self: services on Sunday.

She springs to her feet and lunges towards the oncoming goons. Dinah vaults into the air with a hurricane kick that catches one square in the jaw and sends the gunman in a spectacular double-axis spin, landing completely unconscious. But she lands on a pool noodle (seriously, who throws a noodle?!), rolls her ankle, and hits the ground with a whining, pained exhalation.

"Oww! Fuck you!" she screams at the heavens, flipping off the roof overhead.


"No shit," is Frank's muttered response. Look, he knows what teenage boys are like. He was one. His booted steps are quiet on the concrete floor, the veteran marine padding forward, the barrel of his shotgun flickering over toward lockers, toilet stalls, and other possible hiding places. But there's a figure leaning against the door, and he freezes, shotgun coming up in one hand as he holds up the other in a closed fist for Babs, a silent signal to stop. He points to the vet, then takes up the shotgun in both hands, starting forward stealthi — 'coming in hot.' Okay then. Glass shatters just ahead, and gunfire crackles from other parts of the building, and Frank pulls the trigger. Sadly, it's not a truly satisfying 'boom,' but rather a heavy 'thump' as he fires the bean-bag round into the back of the goon's head, already racking the slide and rushing into the doorway to burst through and find another target, roaring wordlessly as he does. The speed of his advance washes back the wings of his trenchcoat, revealing the white skull spray painted on his vest quite clearly. Well, one question answered, he'll draw fire for people other than Babs. Also, apparently his method is shoot people in the head first, then punch people in the face.


It's no longer a feeling. It's confirmed. Domino and 'Jacket' are not alone!

Also one of the two guys is shooting back at them. Is it ANY surprise why Dom likes to go for the kill shots?

As the gun comes up and the bullets start to fly the albino is quickly remembering that she's a bit less agile with the heavier armor, though it holds its own when one of the rounds smacks off of a panel and gives her a helpful push out of the line of fire without anything more than a potential bruise. A really tiny one.

Oh, and AC/DC is suddenly playing. This is her, not asking questions. Instead she seems to get the same idea at the same instant that Jessica does because without any warning they're -both- leaping out of cover and charging the mobsters from opposite directions!

Somewhere along the charge Neena's got the top half of the one injured mook's pistol, turning it into an expensive paperweight. This gets thrown right as Jess is flinging the pair of mobsters, one of their feet connecting with the upper half of a pistol and knocking it away from its intended target only to strike the side of yet another guy's head with triple the force.

Like a monochromed serpent Dom's sweeping up alongside Jessica and dumping a few rounds into another mook intent on catching the PI from behind. One shot skips off of the man's sidearm and snaps off to locations unknown, punching through a wall and disappearing from sight…

…Only to magically reappear and connect with the head of some other lady who happened to be giving Dinah a hard time.

"You remind me of someone," Dom tells Jess on the side while searching for any other targets. "C'mon, I think we're missing the main event."

While pressing onward she doesn't break stride while blindly putting another two rounds into the arm of a downed mobster who thought he could still reach another gun.


While Kendra herself isn't necessarily bullet proof her wings kind of are … somewhat.

In the sense that when bullets whiz through the feathers it doesn't necessarily hurt them, or her. There aren't going to be any clipped wings for this bird, that's for certain.

She does however move as soon as the gunfire starts. No sense in tempting fate to allow those bullets to hit her actual body. Best to just zig and zag to avoid any wounds from the gunfire. One particular zig brings her momentarily close to Miles as he crawls upon the ceiling and webs some of the guns away.

Then with a flick of wing she darts away from him, to make sure the gunfire continues to chase after her.

She could probably do this all day and let them run out of ammo, but there are definitely more important things to do than just some fancy flying; like making sure the innocents below aren't harmed.

That's what causes Hawkgirl to tuck her wings close and drop down towards those that shoot at her.

She lands near a couple of gun-toting bad guys and as soon as her feet are upon the ground, she lashes out with her mace at the nearest man with a gun. That second bad guy isn't left alone either, as Kendra's wing literally flicks out and slams into the second man. There's enough force behind that wing-flick to send the poor guy flying.


The flying leap causes heads to whip around trying to follow Jess, and it serves as a well-timed distraction because two more are dropped by Domino's well-aimed weapon fire. Jess is flung some mobsters to deal with; Neena shoots DOWN THROUGH THE FLOOR and takes out a mook that Dinah had been dealing with. It gives the women a clear shot down the hallway, following the signs to The Pool.

Things are crashing together at the pool as weapons go flying as they are snagged by flying webbing; they go careening into walls and floors, and the sticky residue makes them impossible to pick up, or use. Frank's beanbag round slams into the vet's back of the head, and it stumbles him to his knees and rolled against the doorframe but doesn't take him out. He turns, weapon coming up, even if it was temporarily fumbled only to have the Punisher rush past him into the pool area. Babs does a somersault leap over him, coming up onto her boots flawlessly. Frank stuns another target with a well-shot beanbag round, but his third round misses and instead smashes into a support pillar for the ceiling. Calls go up: PUNISHER! SPIDER-MAN! But other calls go up: BATGIRL! HAWKGIRL! Ah, when New Yorkers and Gothamites mix.

While Hawkgirl… the suit is taking several step back, and he grabs the young metahuman behind him by her thin shoulder. She looks up toward Hawkgirl as she draws weapon fire, dodging and dancing, and then lands; the suit tightens his grip on her, and she raises a hand just as a blast of telekinetic energy slams out toward Hawkgirl. Again, the girl's face is set, sullen, and lacking in any signs of happiness to be attacking someone here to save the other metahumans in the room.

Downstairs, Dinah is chucked a net, and Khalid is turning to fight a guy with a greater bludgeon than him. The mook actually looks confused for a moment before he breaks into a wide grin. "I don't thi — " And then he's ducking the pool noodle because it's being hurled at him, and he's advancing in some weird dodging foot dance only to be slammed across the temple with the bucket. He dramatically spins, jaw slacked as he collapses onto the concrete of the downstairs storage room. He slaps his cheek and thunks his head, and drools a bit on the ground as he lays there. Good job, Khalid.

For Dinah's part, she takes out two with that impressive spin, only to end up screaming at the heavens, and then she's getting overshadowed by two goons who are grabbing at her jacket, hauling her up and throwing her bodily at the wall in some weird twinned movement.


Jessica sprints after Domino. "Jones. Jess Jones, PI," she says, because she has no idea who she might remind Domino of, but she figures at this point she'd better introduce herself before her teammates with the feathered and bat ear motifs decide to do the job for her. This is not the biggest concern on her mind, of course, but she decides to just put it on out there anyway.

"You've got slick moves."

Despite not making any effort to kill anyone herself, she sheds absolutely no tears when Domino does so.

Of course, the pool area is a lot of frickin' chaos. Jessica gives up on trying to figure out what the Hell is going on and decides to worry about the only thing that matters to her in particular. Hostages.

She takes a running leap into the pool and grabs two of the hostages around the waist. "Hold on," she says. And then she leaps up and through the hole in the roof that Hawkgirl made. One more leap to the ground and at least two are safely out of the line of fire.

Then she's moving to leap back through the hole in what seems like it's going to be Jessica's very own Rinse and Repeat. A bullet does ping off her jacket, but she ignores it.


Khalid balks. "Is- is that a trick question?!" Okay, so maybe answering a semi-rhetorical question isn't what she had in mind. He holds his hands up near his head, gesturing in the air for a moment. "Nevermind, just— "

That's when he's cut off and ducking his head in cover when someone shoots at them. Or, more like they shoot directly at Dinah. "Crap!" Oh he doesn't like this at all. For all he knows, the woman's dead.

Until he opens his eyes again to see that Dinah is definitely not dead.

The silence lingers, and shortly after Dinah makes that declaration, he's still staring at the actually-dead woman on the floor, adding in a stage-whispered "How?"

That's not important right now now. What's important is that one dude is out cold and Dinah just kicked the other guy in the face and now rolled her ankle thanks to the pool noodle from earlier. It would be great if he had the time to just. Pull out his helmet from his backpack. And slip it on while no one's paying attention to him.

Because there's an opening and he's going to take the time to use it properly.

As the extra goons go to hassle Dinah, the doors in the hallway begin to rattle and shake. They then explode open, stored supplies of all forms flying and rolling their way at full force in a magical golden glow. They stay trained on the men — basketballs bouncing, toilet paper rolls wrapping, mops and their rolling buckets slamming into heads and the backs of knees like the Mickey Mouse segment of Fantasia gone awry.

And FATE arrives hovering at the midway point of the hallway, his helm and amulet the most obvious change out of Khalid's physical appearance. "That Will Be Enough."


Dinah looks up. The glow. Power overwhelming. The force of FATE itself, the totality of decision and Order echoing his primal power around the limited basement. She gawks. Ankle twisted, unconscious thugs everywhere, and now this FATE person rolling into the room with a big booming voice and knocking everyone down.

Dinah pushes off the ground. Her legs twist. It's a spiralling motion, elevating her skywards. Almost a handspring. She lands on her good leg (Ralph Macchio, eat your heart out), coils like a springbok, legs curling.
"Run, kid!" she bellows at the Curiously Absent Khalid— and launches a slashing axe kick at FATE's face!


If FATE could blink, he would. But he does double-take.

"What WAIT— "

AXE KICK TO THE FACE.

And like a Street Fighter KO, Fate goes down. Several times.


Stunned mook with at least a concussion, not currently a threat. He can always come back to that. Because first he has to fire off two more rounds as quickly as he can pump the slide and pull the trigger, dropping one more automatic-weapon-user, and then corn-holing an inoffensive support pillar. Splat. The beanbag slides down the pillar to slump on the ground. And then Batgirl's on her feet alongside him, and her attention forward lets him turn back, hooking the butt of his shotgun behind the guy's head and cracking it down into his rising knee. Thump. More CTE for the poor vet. "Stay down," the Punisher snarls. He charges another round into the shotgun chamber, his last beanbag round, and looks around, spotting the suit with the kid, and calls out, "Shitbird in the pool." But even a beanbag round could crack ribs — kid's ribs — at this range, so instead he blasts it across the pool toward one of the gun-wielders. Now he's down to birdshot. Oh well, that's his targets' problem. Jessica Jones does her bouncing rescue maneuver, and he blinks, then nods approvingly. A few innocents out of the line of fire.


"No shit, a PI? Haven't seen any of those with your level of badassitude before," is offered with a flash of a smile. "Domino. Good fightin' with ya."

The cafeteria may be secure for the moment but there's -clearly- a lot still going down in other parts of the building. At least some of them are friends of Jessica's which is all kinds of helpful!

Also Jess can keep taking point. She seems to be good at it and any night where Dom's not directly taking live fire is a good night by her.

Anyone unfortunate enough to get between these two and the pool is going to be in for a VERY unpleasant time. But only briefly.

Did something just explode under their feet? Nevermind. Stay focused, Thurman.

The pool room is complete and utter madness. There are a LOT of people here (actually, EVERYONE in here) Dom does not happen to know. Not a single one of them! The mobsters are pretty easy to make out but Neena has to hang back for a second to get a read on the room..and to watch Jess go flying up through the goddamn ceiling with two kids in her arms. What the hell!

There are a lot of potential allies or non-combatants in here. A lot of opportunities for things to go seriously wrong. A lot of—

That's the boss man. With some smaller girl being shielded behind him. What's that all about? Was this 'Bring your daughter to work' night? Whatever. Rather than start engaging everyone she makes a snap decision and fires off a warning shot, intent on clipping the hat right off of the ol' Boss Man's noggin.

But the bullet keeps on bulleting. Some mooks get disarmed. Some get hit by friendly fire. One takes a piece of broken glass from the ruined skylight to the shoulder. One takes a hit to the back of the knee and takes his buddy down with him to the floor. Curious little oddities seem to pop up out of nowhere which helps the Bats and the Birds while making life that much more miserable for the Mobsters.


It's almost karmic in response that Hawkgirl finds a telekinetic wave rolling towards her.

After all, she just hit someone with a twitch of her wing in much the same manner. Isn't a TK wave nearly the same thing?

Questions to ponder for another time, as the telekinetic power slams directly into her.

Hawkgirl goes flying backwards and for the first few seconds of that unassisted 'flight', Kendra just goes wherever her trajectory takes her. However, before she can slam solidly into a wall, or the floor, her wings suddenly flare outward. The movement catches enough wind to slow her backward (forward?) momentum before it stalls all together and Kendra is back upon her feet once again.

Sharp eyes turn to the man in the suit, with the sullen girl, he's definitely the one to get, but before anything can be done the amount of bullets cascading around the room definitely has to calm down.

The sight of Jessica Jones leaping towards the rooftop also snags Hawkgirl's attention, but before she goes over to help evacuate the metahumans, Kendra's attention shifts to the nearest bad guys. With a wing-assisted leap, the woman lashes out with a sucker punch at one gun-toting dude, and while she readies a kick to disarm the next gun-toting bad guy, she turns just in time to find the gunman already down and bleeding. "Well, that's convenient."

But Kendra knows not to look a gift horse in the mouth and so moves onto the next.


Things are going really great in the downstairs storage facility. The doors slam open and things go flying around to become projectiles of all sizes. There's multiple sounds of clutter and clatter, and then there's FATE with his booming voice. It's all very impressive. So is the flying axe kick to the face. Dinah lands and the hallway is silent save for a broom that rattles to the floor. Before Dinah can even catch her breath, she gets the crackle of Batgirl's voice, gunfire rattling behind her words, "Canary! The Pool!" If there ever was a 'YOU'RE LATE' tone in Barbara Gordon's voice, there it is.

At the pool, chaos ensues. As Jessica Jones grabs two hostages, one is the old man with the broken shin. He cries out slightly before he's launched through the hole in the roof to safety. Frank cracks a skull across the pool because even a bean bag round to the head is going to cause some damage. The mook drops. Just before Domino's good luck can come on the scene, Frank takes five chest-shots; he must have missed the guy coming in from behind the pillar because he's also about to take a fist to the side of the face. Not a fight unless Frank is bloodied up, after all.

Babs is rushing forward, launching a razor edge batarang that takes a mook out at the hamstrings. Then she's taking a bullet, not quite whipping her cape around her with its protective weave. It slams her in the shoulder, going through her jacket, flesh, and out her back just below her scapula. It missed her bones entirely, only ravaging muscle. She is spun out by the shot, but then she's turning her fiery blue-green gaze on the shooter. She slots a taser batarang out of her belt, and is rushing forward with her left arm slung against her stomach before letting it loose; it zaps the shooter unconscious before he can shoot off another round.

The Boss Man is stumbling back at the shot to his head, and he ducks right out of it despite its close call — or perhaps that was just Domino's good aim. He's dragging the girl back with him one step, two steps. He squeezes her shoulder again, and she closes her eyes before she raises a hand, head bowed in resigned loss, and one of the pillars holding up the roof begins to shake so hard it starts to crack. It does not care that there's a mook wrapped in Miles's webbing just beside it, nor that it might crush any number of thugs and heroes both.


"Sorry dude," Jess tells the old man with a wince. And she sounds like she sincerely means it. But no time for that. She's grabbing two more by the waist and repeating the motion. This almost requires her to tune out the chaos. Which she does with a single-minded focus, trusting the others to keep her covered while she does this part of the job. Relying, as well, on the speed of her demented grasshopper leaps.

And it's like there's some sort of weird luck effect happening, because nothing even pings off her jacket anymore!


"Shit! I'm… on it!" Dinah says.
She looks around. Four downed goons, one incapacitated LORD OF FATE, and Dinah herself on her feet. Call that one a… mixed bag?
Dinah turns and breaks into a sprint. Fast, agile, legs pounding up the steps.
She banks off a wall, she's moving so fast. Her short, strong legs churn. Boots pound. She blows up the steps, turns left instead of right, and emerges behind The Bossman and his hostage.

Well, when in Rome… and it's worked twice so far!

Dinah gets a two-step start, twists her hips, and flies into air with a pivoting kick that puts an /obscene/ amount of force behind her foot, and whips the steel-pointed toe at the head of the fellow trying to bring the house down around everyone.


Automatic weapons-fire in a chaotic situation is nobody's friend unless you're behind the barrel. Frank is distinctly not behind the barrel. A metaphorical triphammer slams into him, driving him to his knees at the edge of the empty pool. Mostly bruises, mostly to the vest, but that last one nearly penetrated, probably a cracked rib. And the third one missed the vest entirely, creasing his hip. He grunts as he starts to push himself back to his feet, only to take a fist to the face. Blood sprays from his nose, his head snaps over, and then he looks balefully up at the man. Boom. The sound of the 12-gauge firing birdshot is a lot different than firing a beanbag, especially when the little metal pellets go clattering off the hard floor — after tearing up the gunman's lower leg. That buys Frank enough time to spot the blood-spatter from the hit on Batgirl, and his eyes widen, lips peeling back from his teeth as fury sparks within him. The butt of his shotgun snaps up, crashing into the mook's jaw to drop him. Frank doesn't stop there, however, burying his boot in the man's gut as well. He looks to — oh good, Babs is still fighting and dropped the guy who shot her. Some of the rage bleeds out of him, but he still clickity-booms another shell of birdshot into a gunman aiming at the bouncing Jones.


Well. This is a bloody, chaotic mess. Domino's trying to keep her eyes on the proverbial prize while everyone else is busy doing their thing, though there is some felt surprise upon identifying at least someone in here who is obviously one of the fabled Bats of Gotham. Boy did Dom ever pick the right party to crash tonight!

It keeps the heat off of the albino, one of the few armed individuals who isn't doing a whole lot of moving. It seems like the bigger threat to her is a missed shot than a called one as some debris from an impact to the wall beside her dusts the blacked out armor.

The Boss Man is still pushing it. Or rather, still pushing the girl (the META girl) which he refuses to let go of. A squeeze to her shoulder and without question nor hesitation she starts pulling some trickery which is about to bring the whole damn ceiling down.

Killing the mob boss would be the easy route but it's probably not the BEST route. Not now that she's in the company of at least one more famous vigilante. Best foot forward, right?

Neena shoulders the PDW and takes aim. The Boss Man's hand is still on the girl's shoulder. This..is gonna suck. The shock might knock the meta girl out of her trance but the important part is disrupting the Boss Man's hold on her. The best way she can see to do that is to put a bullet through his hand..and through the girl's body in the process. Just line up the shot, squeeze the trigger, and—

Something slams into Neena's chest. Dead center. The air gets kicked out of her lungs as she's thrown backwards. The Personal Defense Weapon sprays a dozen rounds out into the room. Rather than hitting the intended mark her aim drifts just enough to punch through the Boss Man's own shoulder, tearing into the joint enough that it could well leave the arm paralyzed and in dire need of surgical intervention.

The meta girl he's controlling will be spared taking a hit. Instead she'll just end up with a face covered in the boss man's blood.

As for 'missing' her mark? The interruption to her aim manages to keep the sudden jump-kicking Dinah from accidentally taking one of Neena's bullets, herself.


The rumbling of the pillar and roof coming under that telekinetic strain brings Kendra's hawk helm covered face upward.

The cracks that become visible cause Hawkgirl to drop the half conscious man she was just finished with to the ground.

Now Kendra takes a book from Jessica Jones' playbook. Time to ferry as many of the hostages out. While others take care of the Boss Man and the young woman he's using as a meta-shield, Hawkgirl drops into the pool and grabs two of the nearest kids.

"Swim times over. Let's get you guys out of here."

With a powerful downstroke of her wings Hawkgirl and the kids in her arms ascend toward the entrance she made upon her initial arrival.


Birdshot is really not fun. Frank's chosen nonlethal (there's no scientific research to back this up, Francis) is bloody, and leaves plenty of his own splatter across the sealed cement of the pool room. It is definitely getting bloody in here even if there's still plenty of people breathing. So, there's that. Just as Jess grabs more hostages to leap them to the roof, a gunner is lining up a shot for the woman's hip, to stop that leaping madness. Before he can pull the trigger he takes a backful of birdshot. He collapses, writhing in pain.

Dinah's launching kick and Domino's near shot does it's work — the Boss Man takes the shot to his shoulder, and he slumps aside as he pulls his wounded arm into his side. He lets go of the girl, and she's stumbling and tumbling until she hits the pool's floor with a smash of her cheek against the surface, leaving a sharp scrape against her skin. She gasps a breath, and the shaking stops — but the damage has been done. The pillar is barely holding itself together, and therefore the ceiling is still trembling witn its uncertain state.

More and more hostages are getting shuttled through the roof, and Batgirl is holding her wounded shoulder as she spins for another target. There is none. Except for the Boss Man, who is fleeing toward the door that connects the pool to the basketball courts. Now she looks to Frank, and then starts to run a quick check over everyone. She blinks in surprise as she spots Spider-Man — Peter? No. Not Peter — and Domino. Her eyes widen briefly, and then to the others. "If you can't get through that roof, find an exit!"


So.

Fate does not know how long he's been out. It could have been hours, really; still, enough time has passed to rouse from his state of unconsciousness.

Well, that and having the voice of Nabu urging him to get back up allows him to sit and hold his helmet. "Ugh, My Head…"

Did Dinah really have to kick that hard? He feels like it shouldn't have even happen, but it did and he can probably analyze the whole ordeal later. There's still stuff going on and he's not even sure where everyone is.

"Time To Take A Shortcut," he sighs, the depth of his voice resonating as he slowly rises…
…and, since magic doesn't make any sense, goes through some walls.

Again, he isn't sure where everyone is until he starts to hear a lot of ruckus. Whatever he sees, it looks like most of it is taken care of.

However, there is that one guy making a run for it. Maybe he's not supposed to be doing that?

The blank eyes of his helm appear to narrow as he shifts his focus, arms holding out to either side of his body. "You! Shall Not Pass!"

Suddenly, the water pipes are shuddering, bursting open at the drop of a hat. The streams snake about to ensnare and drag the Boss Man back, somehow solid even if they remain fairly liquid.


Meta down. Bossman down. Building collapsing, but that's not really Dinah's fault— it's not like she sang a song or anything! For the most part people look OK though, enduring the madness, and thne—

— the weird guy with the glowing eyes emerges from the floor! Dinah's eyes go wide. "Batgirl! Look out!" she shouts. Fortunately, she doesn't kick Fate in the head again.
She takes two steps, gets her feet lined up, and throws a brutal right cross at that helmeted jawline.


There are two people in this room who can make scientific studies of the lethality of birdshot versus shotgun slugs, because they're alive right now. Blood trickles from Frank's nose and down his hip, and someone else's blood speckles his face and gives the skull on his chest a faint pink tinge. Clickity, and there's another shell loaded in the shotgun. Babs looks to him, and he nods. He's good. Theoretically. But The Boss is running, and he lifts the shotgun to his shoulder, ready to… what the hell? A wizard line and arms of water? Frank barely blinked at winged women and jumping Jesses, but that? That gets a long stare. "What the fuck?" He nods again to Babs, "Time to go." Aaaand there goes Dinah, "Damn it, Canary. Let's go." He grimaces, then crouches down on the edge of pool and shifts his shotgun to his left hand, "Come on. We're leaving. If you want to." There might be some who might not want to leave with the Punisher, however.


Neena's just..gonna..peel herself off of the floor real quick here. Or ..y'know. Slowly. With some newfound aches and pains. Still, compared to someone like the Punisher over there she's looking absolutely -stellar.-

Unlike the pool room.

And the building.

"Aw, frig."

Does anyone have the telekinetic girl? Someone -has- to get her out of here, or at the very least keep her away from the Boss Man! If she's somehow missed by all of the other hero and vigilante sorts then Dom will try to make sure that the girl's evacuated from the building. Otherwise maybe she can snag another one or two of the captives along the way.

Or she could just save her own ass. That always works, too.

Whatever ends up happening may leave a few loose ends because she doesn't make it back out to street level. She just disappears. Maybe caught up in the basement somewhere along the way, who knows. She'll probably be fine wherever she went.


He does not pass. Fate snares him in that water lasso, and the Boss Man stumbles and collapses into a heap with his paralyzed arm limp at his side. He arches his back against the water even as it drags him back, and then he's spitting words to the vigilantes still in the pool room. "This isn't how this will end!"

"Canary!" This is Batgirl's voice ringing out. "The roof!" Then she spots Khalid, and she tightens her jaw a moment before she points to the roof. "Can you get them out of here!?" She has blood leaking down her own shoulder, but otherwise looks like she's just been fighting through mobsters for a little while. She points to the Boss. "Frank! Get him. We're taking him with us."

Between Spider-Man, Jess and Hawkgirl, they are down to just about eighteen metahumans left. Up on the roof, they are scrambling toward parts of the roof that looks stable. Already police sirens are wailing, and there's even the sound of a helicopter overhead. Law enforcement is literally on them.


"It Ends As It Does For The Time Being." Another wave of the hand and Fate obtains a life preserver from the lifeguard stand. He makes sure to magically plop it over the Boss Man's head, securing his arms and knocking him off-balance in the meantime. Again, those eyes narrow at the slightest angle of his head. "Your Fate Will Eventually Be Determined."

And thankfully (Thankfully), Khalid learns quickly. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of movement coming straight at him, his hand twitching as he draws one arm in. Another strange glow occurs, a momentary deflection redirecting Canary's punch of doom away from his helmet. His hidden gaze snaps her way, his deep voice ringing out. "OhMyGoCan You PLEASE Not? I've Had Enough Head Trauma For One Day!"

He says this, then clears his throat. Fate hovers and hangs back, watching the others as they make their hasty exits, especially with the Boss in tow.

Boss Man is not his problem. This isn't any of his problem.

"Go. I Will Make One Last Sweep," he replies coolly, somehow regaining his composure. And that is about all he says to the Punisher, Batgirl, and Canary, making himself just as scarce as he leaves the same way he first arrived.

Almost like none of that had ever occurred.


Dinah's going one way with a right hook that'd lay out Ali, and then she's entirely abruptly going the other way and staggering awkwardly at Khalid's deflection. She blinks in surprise. A resolute wall she could deal with, but … what the did Khalid just do?

"Oh. Uh… well, stop floating out of the floor, and… surprising people," Dinah tells Fate, twisting in place. It's at least robbed her violent momentum. "With, uh. The floating. And eyes."

She gestures at her face. "Eye floatings."

Her head whips around. Blonde hair's worked loose from her scruchie and it flickers near her face. "On it," she tells Babs. "Get the civilians out of here." She makes a beeline for the stairs, and heads up them two at a time.

Don't think about the guy you knocked out who is almost totally an ally, Dinah.


Frank helps a few people out of the pool, but nods as Barbara redirects him. He pauses halfway as he studies Fate, then shakes it off and grabs the life-preserver-clad Boss with his left hand, keeping the shotgun in his right. "Give me any shit, asshole, and I hit you with the birdshot." Beat pause, "In the ass." Someone will have to tell him what the hell was going on there. Later. After they're all out of the building that's about to collapse — including the newly-rescued metahumans, "Get as many of 'em into my van as you can. I'll take 'em outta New York." The minions that were oh-so-carefully not killed before, well, they have bigger problems than getting them out from under a collapsing roof.


All the metahumans are on the roof and out of danger, which also means that Jessica Jones, Hawkgirl, and Spider-Man better clear out fast because the police are coming down on the group. This means one very chilly truth: all those people they just saved are about to be arrested for being unregistered metahumans. That is, until the rooftop vigilantes start getting them off the roof and into the wind. Dinah is there to help with that. As for the metahuman girl? She's gone. Perhaps a certain Doctor will find her.

The Boss flashes his teeth at Frank, but learns to keep his mouth shut. No villain monologuing — yet.

Babs is there with Frank to get the Boss out, and they take the floor exit so they can get out to where Frank parked the van. By the end of it, they manage to get eight people into Frank's van for Jersey City, but the rest are in the wind.

The news will report that a dozen of them have been arrested for being unregistered metahumans, but the news will also report that metahuman vigilantes destroyed the YMCA where they were harboring and aiding known unregistered metahumans. There will be no mention of the trafficking, or the throwdown that happened inside, like it was wiped from the news entirely.

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