>>C:\main_drive\Section_1: Events

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

The Cities were alive, in two very different ways. High above the clouds, a grand gilded cage, the Upper City existed, its inhabitants meandering throughout their lives in a state of bliss, blindfolded to the state of the world. Far below, under a sky of eternal rain, were the streets of the Lower City, strewn with all manner of detritus, an existence so low that for many it could scarcely be called existing. Above, the joys and delights of life, without the real, visceral edge. Below, edges of a far more literal nature that served to keep the blood and adrenaline pumping, providing the very real sensation of life; But only the daily struggle to live. Those below coveted what those above possessed, believing it to be the utmost happiness. Those above ignored those below, never realizing what it was they were missing. Two sides of a coin rusted from the inside out, two sides that wished to have nothing to do with the other. A light and a dark, but who could truly say which was which? Was it possible to truly say which was darker, the beautiful flower rotten from the inside, or the dismal dystopia, with its moments of light?

 

These were questions better suited to philosophers, the gray Toa concluded as he observed the proceedings before him. Sitting atop a building that had been pending demolition for the better part of a decade, he observed the Enforcer and his motley crew of officers close in around the alehouse. He didn't need to put an effort into identifying them; The officers he had all seen at one point or another, and the Wolf was known to all. The Toa's mind analyzed their armaments and capabilities in a matter of moments, comparing it against what he knew of the alehouse; On a first glance, the law enforcement officials seemed to have the advantage of numbers. But the Lower City was never that simple. The proprietor of the alehouse had gone missing days before, likely dead or worse, and a new bartender had taken over. With the arrival of the less savory individuals in the establishment, it was reasonable to assume that the entire building was the gang's, bought and paid for, now. Several of the costumers could very well be gang-aligned. Furthermore, it was entirely possible that some of the officers themselves were crooked.

 

Too many were.

 

His thoughts snaked out, latching onto streams of information like a rope, following it back to its source. There were several electronic devices within the alehouse; Three of them would serve his purposes. The Toa of Data stood, dropping lightly onto the rusted fire escape, following it until it abruptly stopped, a short ways above the ground. He slipped easily to the ground, tightening his coat around him. All the while his mind kept working, worming its way into the devices of his choosing; As he brought their embedded cameras online, he was forced to strike one from the list. Its camera was obscured, either intentionally or unintentionally, and it would serve no purpose for him. The others, however, were more than enough; The two perspectives gave him a decent view of the main room, as well as a sidelong look at the back entrance. The live streams shifted to the upper left of his visor, kept there by his force of will. He could view the data without the visuals, but they allowed him to waste less thought on the data itself. Moving catlike down the alleyway, he kept alert for any signs of trouble. He maintained a degree of distance, keeping a visual barrier between himself and the officers of the law; It wouldn't do to be seen to early in the game.

 

Firen was quite sure that the City would be more alive than usual this night, and as was his wont, he would keep his finger on the pulse. And if things went as badly as he suspected they might, he would intervene.

 

Such was life in the city he called home.

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

"I've got the roofs if they get away." Zaak quietly climbed a few barrels and crates next to the building and, stepping softly and without noise, took position above the door, to surprise whoever managed to get past the current guards.

[graggen2468]

IC: Sai'kun

 

Cops! Now this was going to be tricky. Or not. The police in this city weren't particularly noted for their enforcement of the law. For all he knew, they were working with the slavers. It was time for action. He had, after all, been holding his disk launcher for a long time, and he was on edge. It was time for action. Just to be safe, no deadly force against the police in the event that they were actually trying to help for once.

Wasting no more time, Sai'kun picked up a rock and threw it at the window, shattering it, following up by firing his freeze disk at a slaver through the hole in the wall.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"What..." Romaln said, turning to identify the source of window breaking. He quickly turned his head, and the noted the Matoran who made the scene. He then noted the disk being thrown.

 

With a curse, he turned and burst through the door, quickly taking note of the scene. The main focal point in the room was, of course, its new statue - a cloaked Skakdi, black Hau over his face, with his sword drawn and slicing through a Kanoka disk... at least halfway. The rest had, apparently, release itself, coating pretty much everything other than his head and back in a layer of ice, which he was struggling to be free of.

 

One of his drinking buddies had his attention to the window, and was beginning to advance before the trouble begun; he now joined the third in staring at the door, at the Enforcer who had just barged in. Quickly, he called out, "By order of the Enforcers, lay down your arms immedia -"

 

The skakdi turned his head.

 

Twin beams of impact vision threw Romaln unceremoniously out of the doorway and past the rest of the waiting law enforcement.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Change of plans. Nobody barge in."

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"Normally, they at least pretend to be scared of Enforcers," Romaln said as he stood up. "We need to neutralize them before they can flee - but remember, we need at least one alive."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

"Well, someone has so kindly frozen one for us, so that last part shouldn't be too difficult... comparatively." Zaak examined the situation, before saying, "How does this sound? Naona and the Vortixx swing in through the back door, I swing in through the window, and Romain and the Toa of Iron barge in the front? Someone should reinforce the ice, that won't keep him for long." Zaak added as an afterthought.

[Perp]

IC: Kelko (The Undercity, Streets)

 

The streetlight was flickering, momentarily bathing the sitting coat-laden figure in dim yellow, light for a moment, before the permeating shadows of the Undercity swallowed the Toa up once again.

 

The mind of the Toa in question was hazed, blurred. Sluggish. He had had too much to drink. But from where? It was no use trying to remember. Best to just try to drown out his worries and forget this miserable place for the few hours he had until clarity and calculation returned to his mind, torturing him further with their enflaming and harsh truths.

 

At least the bottle was still only half empty. He took another swig, spilling some of the foul-smelling solution on himself as he did so.

 

Not that he cared, not could care. Half the beings in this city, let alone the city itself, smelled like ###### on a good day.

 

Today was not a good day. Nor were any of the others in Kelko's life.

 

He took another swig.

 

OOC: Open for interaction.

Edited June 6, 2014 by EternalShadow

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

"I would prefer not to kill any of them," said Naona. "However, if it is necessary, then I shall have to."

 

He said the last line with a hint of remorse. The Toa of Stone was not quite fond of killing people.

[Constructelf]

IC Vynsehnt

This side of the city now being taken care of by what emergency crews there where, I had located the other officers just in time to see my former colleague go flying out of a door. "...?" I used to have so much better words for those situations. I slowly slinked back in with the police, listening to their discussion.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Vyns, just in time. Assist Zaak in a window assault."

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

Romaln's blast out of the doorway had not gone unnoticed; Firen saw it all, all without ever setting foot in the room. He briefly contemplated ignoring the police entirely and acting alone, but upon review of the situation, such a plan would be tactically unsound. He noted the launchd disk, and directed a glance towards its origin; The shooter was unseen, but was surely on one of those two rooftops. After a moment's thought, the vigilante began pulling himself up the far side of the alehouse, quickly scaling to the top; It was entirely possible he could gain access from a ventilation point.

 

In the meantime, he began broadcasting the information he was receiving on the police and Enforcer channels that he predicted the current force might be using, the information coming through in a slightly static-infused, monotone voice.

 

"Surveillance has been accomplished. The three are present, and primarily watching the front door. As you are no doubt aware, one has been incapacitated."

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

Naona moved a hand to his communicator.

 

Who are you?

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Not a gang member. That helpful?"

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

"Good enough."

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Do you have a screen of some kind with you? Visuals would be easier than words." The vigilante commented, pulling himself over the edge and onto the roof, searching for a vent.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

"Would my visor suffice?"

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"That will be more than sufficient. Feel free to transmit the information to your compatriots." As if on cue, both video feeds appeared in Naona's visor, showing the events within the alehouse from slightly altered angles; Most of those who had possessed the devices, after all, had left them in a panic when they took cover.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

"Thank you."

 

So the group was inside, watching the doors, and there might be a shooter somewhere nearby.

 

"Any plans, Enforcer?"

[Constructelf]

IC: Naona

 

"Vyns, just in time. Assist Zaak in a window assault."

IC Vynsehnt

I nodded and joned the toa of plasma, waiting for the cue.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

Even as Naona asked his question to Romaln, the officer quickly remembered to transmit the data his unknown ally was providing to his fellow officers.

 

"Also please take note of these."

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"We keep to the original - though we'll need to be quick, before any more damage is done. We only need one alive."

 

There was a blur from the door, heralded by a burst of sound, as the Skakdi from before suddenly shot out at the group. A wave of force erupted from his body as he collided with Romaln, both throwing him back and knocking others aside, as he continued charging with a long, twin-bladed sword in hand.

 

Already, the Enforcer had stood, swinging his Scepter as the Skakdi swung his blade. He was the stronger of the two, and hit with surprising force, disarming his enemy. "Wrong-choice, spine-back." he spat, just barely missing as he swung once more. "Get the other two!" he shouted to Naona and the others.

 

OOC: In case somebody was wondering, I don't plan to control these NPCs anymore than Norik was his; only the one Romaln is fighting. Just to explain what this one was doing - impact vision, elemental powers of sonics (no other Skakdi in the area, though), and a special power to release force-pulses and/or move with them (as he demonstrated).

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Perp]

IC: Kelko

 

Kelko belched and looked down the street - it was nearly empty - only bits of paper and other garbage fluttered limply in the slight breeze.

 

Oh, Artakha's Alehouse. Right. That was the name of the place. He downed the rest of the bottle in one gulp - reeling from the stench of the liquor and pained by the burning in his throat, Kelko tossed the bottle over his shoulder and into the side of a building.

 

An angry Matoran stuck his head out of a shattered window, yelling something about "being useless" at Kelko, who gave him something of an obscene gesture as he clumsily got up and sauntered down the roadways to the Alehouse...

 

...and there was some sort of fight going on. Wonderful. Kelko belched again and made his way to the front entrance, where some Skakdi and and Enforcer were duking it out.

 

"'Scuse me, gentlemen," Kelko said, as he casually ducked under a swung blade, hobbling over to the bar, knocking a couple chairs over in the process...

 

...and the barkeep wasn't there.

 

Looking over his shoulder at the commotion within the joint, Kelko shrugged. Might as well treat himself to some entertainment. He reached over behind the bar, feeling around for any bottles he could pilfer.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

Instead of a bottle, what Kelko felt was a head; this was followed by the sound of a slight yelp, and a slap back. A head suddenly popped up from the counter - that of Vailarin, the singer who had walked out not long ago, as she began peering around. "What did I miss?" she asked, taking a drink from one of the bottles down below as she handed it to him.

 

Truth be told, she didn't want to mess with the cloaked ones. Not with the rumors that surrounded them; slavers or not, they were a problem. Still, when she had seen the police man walking down the alley towards the bar, she knew something was up (and even if it wasn't, she didn't want to have a run-in with any policeman or Enforcer in a back-alley - too risk; better to walk back). And as it turned out, she was right. The window was broken, two of the cloaked figures were on the defense, and a fight seemed to have broken out.

 

Did she want to be around with the cloaked ones? No, not really. But that was no reason not to at least get a glimpse of the action!

 

OOC: Meanwhile, with people not involved in the fighting.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Perp]

IC: Kelko (The Undercity, Artakha's Alehouse)

 

Kelko pulled his hand back as he heard the yelp from behind the bar. A head and a question soon followed.

 

"Oh, hullo, m'lady," he slurred, still inebriated. He shrugged. "Some guy's fighting another guy. I dunno." He accepted the proferred bottle and took a swig.

 

"Mind if I hop on over?"

Edited June 8, 2014 by EternalShadow

[Simulacrum]

-IC (Staff):-

 

The crimson presence roared through Volin's muscles like wildfire, destroying and reforging from within the crucible of agony, the glorious light of spiritual salvation given harrowing, scarlet form. After an eternity of anguish, the agony receded with the sloth of morning mists, snaking from his heart and lungs and back into his trembling limbs.

 

You are void, my child, finally weaned from the realms of substance.

 

The voice was beautiful and terrible, filling his internal vacuity with a frigidly granitic phlegm.

 

You are firstborn among my progeny; to you I shall bequeath the birthright of eternity. To you, I grant power beyond the worlds of dirt and weeping. To you I bestow the true darkness, the annul.

 

A dark flame burned within in him, memories of neon and rain melting into a sickly, nauseating haze.

 

Go and distribute my seed, progenitor. Havoc shall be your title, and Death your disciple.

 

All fear had left Volin, if he still was that strange, distant Toa from the world of stone and blood, replaced with certainty. The voice grew louder, unstable in its glory.

Destroy in my name; conquer for your carmine genitor. Fly on the wings of dusk, my child, the first.

 

Power, pure, unbridled, surged through the nihility of Volin's broken soul.

 

OOC: "Madness rides the star-wind... claws and teeth sharpened on centuries of corpses... dripping death astride a bacchanale of bats from nigh-black ruins of buried temples of Belial..." -H.P. Lovecraft, The Hound (1924)

Edited June 8, 2014 by Kilgore Trout

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"Not my bar to dictate." she replied with a shrug. "Though I wonder where that slimy replacement bartender ran off to? Probably scared off, the bleedin' lava rat..."

 

She reached into her pouch and, a grin quickly crossing her face, slid the quarter widget from before to where she had placed the bottle. Let it never be said that she stole from honest folks. Or dishonest folks, seeing as the former was virtually nonexistent.

 

EDIT: OOC: And now I am glad to not be involved in the demon sub-plot. For now.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited June 8, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Perp]

IC: Kelko (The Undercity, Artakha's Alehouse)

 

Kelko shrugged again. "Suit yerself." He handed his compatriot back her bottle and attempted to climb over the counter.

 

Attempted.

 

He slipped and flopped over onto the other side, groaning as he tried to get up.

[Krayzikk]

OOC: I do not believe the other two gang members have been identified or described; If I am incorrect, let me know.

 

IC:

 

A few minutes of searching led the Toa to exactly what he was looking for; The Alehouse's structure had been standing quite some time, though it probably hadn't been the same when it was built. Buildings like it tended to change hands often, sometimes willingly, sometimes violently, though their purpose tended to remain the same. Whoever had built this one had believed in a degree of safety regulation, as the vent was decently sized, and set solidly into the roof of the Alehouse. Once upon a time, the metal had been solid and the bolts that held it in place would never have been broken, let alone the grate itself. But the Lower City's rain was constant and often acidic, and over the years it had taken its toll.

 

Firen paused to examine the video streams. One had been shifted so that it was no longer viable; He cut it off, freeing up more of his focus. As soon as he saw Romaln enter, he made his move; The grate shattered with a well placed stomp, and the Toa of Data dropped through the airway, landing on top of the Alehouse's bar in a crouch.

 

At that instant, in his eyes, the world slowed. Or rather, his world quickened. As his eyes swept the room, his brain logged what was being seen, and added the information to what he was already aware of. He automatically marked each target on his visor, linking to them a list of what was already known.

 

Three beings. Skakdi, likely Impact Vision. Wolf engaging. Two currently active. Civilians behind bar, behind table, far side of the room. Unknown shooter, adjacent rooftop. Course of action; Incapacitate, eliminate.

 

The cloaked beings had, by their standards, been very prepared. They knew enemies were at the door, and they had known of the second entrance, and thus, had taken measures to guard against it; Measures in the form of a loaded rifle, aimed carefully. With the Skakdi otherwise engaged, the rifleman and his compatriot were the only hostiles that had yet to be engaged. In the miliseconds since he had landed on the bar, Firen had already labeled the rifleman the most threatening target.

 

So he took measures.

 

As the rifleman -Fe-Toa, Sanok, he noted- whirled and tried to take aim again, the Toa of Data lunged. Not an instant too soon, either; As predicted, the Fe-Toa's bullet was aimed perfectly towards his previous location, flying centimeters past the now-moving target's head. Firen collided with the other Toa, slamming an elbow into his gut with the full momentum of his brief flight. The cloaked being doubled up, allowing him to knock the rifle out of his hand with a well placed strike to the wrist. However, this had given the Toa enough time to take a few steps back, not only putting some space between him and his assailant, but giving him a moment to recover.

 

Element of surprise has been lost. Change of tactics.

 

The Fe-Toa apparently thought much the same; Straightening, the being practically growled, drawing a sword and advancing rapidly. The Toa of Data did much the same, slipping his blade into his hand and bringing it into a ready position. He contemplated finishing it quickly, a gunshot would have done so easily, but his opponent had cleverly positioned himself between the vigilante and the civilians. It wasn't a risk worth taking, not yet.

 

Swords clashed, not for the first time, with the sound of metal on metal.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

OOC: As far as I can tell @Krayzikk. The only thing identified about them is their danger level, which is roughly "3 Cloak = 2 Enforcer", going by Seldron's sheet.

 

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"Ooh... who's this one?" she asked curiously, watching the two Toa duel in the midst of the bar. "Two cloaked figures dueling in the midst of a bar fight? Now this one will be a story..."

 

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Outside Artahka's Alehouse

 

The Skakdi dodged another attack from Romaln, who in turn ducked out of the way from another pair of impact vision blasts. The Wolf raised his Scepter, releasing his Howl directly into his adversary. The Skakdi put his hands up to his ears from the pain and stepped back, wincing for a moment; after only a short time, however, he returned to normal. He would have grinned, if his face wasn't locked in a permanent one.

 

"Sorry, old man." the Skakdi said, laughing as Romaln dropped his weapon. "But this isn't a De-Toa you're facing."

 

The spine-back released another blast of impact vision. Romlan turned, but the beams weren't directed towards hitting him; they were a distraction. Another force-pulse knocked him back, and though he braced for it, he couldn't hold onto the Scepter, which went flying out of his hand. Now they were both disarmed.

 

His enemy pressed the advantage, charging into the Glatorian; the clear height advantage did not seem to bother him. How wrong he was. A punch was quickly thrown, but Romaln quite easily grabbed the Skakdi's wrist; with that, he swung down, flinging his adversary into the ground. Before the Skakdi could recover, he moved to a swift stomp on the throat...

 

... only to be thrown off by a blast of impact vision, which hurtled him away. Thankfully, to the same locale as his Scepter, which he quickly grabbed. He stood, to find the Skakdi doing the same... and with longsword in hand. The grin was wider now. Blade in hand, the spine-back charged; a pulse of force energy, and he was off, blade in hand...

 

Romaln raised his arm, projecting his wrist-shield. He swung his Scepter.

 

The blade connected. The Scepter connected.

 

The entire street was met by a brutal scream.

 

The Wolf's head shook as the Skakdi fell to his knees, the intense pain of the Scepter's power causing his entire body to convulse. "What... what did you do?" he cried out. Romaln replied simply, "You'll live."

 

OOC: Romaln's out for a bit, as he waits for time to catch up.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited June 8, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Artakha Alehouse Entrance]

 

"Secure the building! Zaak, Vyns, on me! Safety of the civilians is paramount."

 

With that, he quickly entered the building, ducking beneath a shot from the final suspect, a blue-green Vortixx with a Cordak Blaster.

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Police HQ)

 

The Chief of Police was sitting at his desk for once, scribbling with a pen a few quick, flavorless notes on the recent events with the gang fight and the appearance of the Enforcer while he waited to hear back from the task force he'd entrusted to Romaln.

 

In the meantime, he could not do much else but worry about paperwork, but he'd be sure to get outside again as soon as he was finished.

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

The police's database treated these cloaked beings as highly dangerous. As he perused the files, Firen wasn't sure that the adjective did them justice. The Fe-Toa struck first, launching into a rapid series of strikes from every feasible angle. Overhead, left, right, and a few stabs straight down the center. Without his reflexes, the Toa of Data would have been finished then and there, blocking and dodging only barely with the sounds of metal scraping on metal. Each strike was placed with Sanok-accuracy; His opponent would never fail, without intervention, to hit exactly the point he was aiming for.

 

After a few moments of this onslaught, the Fe-Toa took a step back to avoid overextending himself. When the two combatants locked eyes, there was an understanding; Those moments had been an assessment, for both of them. A chance to know their opponent's capabilities, and their tendencies. It had been very enlightening; There was absolutely no doubt that the Fe-Toa was the better swordsman, in both technique and practical application. It was based upon this assessment that the Toa of Iron struck again, a vicious overhead blow deflected, and followed succinctly by a smooth riposte by the Toa of Data.

 

Not that it did any good. The Fe-Toa evaded easily, sidestepping and bringing his blade back into a ready stance. Firen took the chance to launch a strike of his own, only to be blocked easily. This dance went on for a time, as Romaln fought his opponent, both partners fully aware of the steps. Neither, despite their efforts, seemed able to gain an advantage over the other; the cloaked being was more skilled, but the Toa of Data's reflexes gave him enough of an edge to keep the fight equal. Their duel carried them about the room, ranging several feet in any direction as the lunged, sidestepped and retreated as required. The sounds of clashing blades echoed throughout the room, a far more understated din of battle than the conflict between the Fe-Toa's comrade and the Wolf.

 

"You're not an officer." The Fe-Toa noted, launching into a devastating series of attacks that forced Firen on the defensive. A single stab slipped past his defenses, glancing off of his coat, leaving a small cut in the fabric as testament to the blow. "That coat isn't regulation issue. I've killed a few cops, and if you were one, that would have left a mark. You're not an Enforcer, either."

 

The Toa's voice wasn't anything but calm; Not an octave out of place, no tension, and he wasn't even breathing hard. The renowned stamina of a Toa of Iron had never been more pronounced as he almost lazily slashed along the horizontal plane, a blow meant to decapitate. Firen didn't respond; Normally, he'd have been delighted to engage in witty banter. Here and now, it was the furthest thing from his mind. For one, the diversion in focus would have been deadly. Second, the comment about officers had struck a nerve. The Toa of Data was serious now, and his mask hardened into a deadly mask underneath his visor.

 

"You didn't reckon on one thing, though. Old buildings like this, they were built to ask. Expensive construction."

 

...

 

...

 

Karzahni.

 

Almost as if on cue, tendrils of metal ripped themselves up from the floorboards to wrap around his ankles. The metal tightened rapidly, leaving him little. room to escape. As if to add insult to injury, the tendrils grew barbs that bit into his left ankle. Under normal circumstances, he could have escaoed, given a few minutes time. The bindings were, after all, a rush job. But the Fe-Toa advanced easily, swinging his blade idly from side to side. Idly, another tendrils tossed a few tables between him and the advancing officers, propping them up to provide cover.

 

"You don't talk much. Decent fighter, but it's end of the line for ya." He paused a short distance away, resting his sword on his shoulder. "Anything you'd like to get off your chest first? I'm sure the Chains would give you a real good job."

 

Silence reigned for a moment, before Firen gave a vicious jab towards the Toa's midsection. The tendril around his left ankle released to block the attack, wrenching his sword from his grip. "You know, that was a real bad ch-"

 

The Toa didn't get to finish, as a bullet slammed into his cheek, shattering his Kanohi, and in the process, robbing him of much of his strength. The cloaked being staggered back a step, stemming the flow of red with a hand, but was cut off by a second slug slamming into his knee, breaking bone with a sickening sound, His enemy temporarily incapacitated, the Toa of Data took the chance to place a slug into the tendril wrapped around his right ankle. The metal, once tough, had been subject to the same abuse of weather and age that the grate had, though to a lesser degree; A single shot was enough to weaken it, allowing him to tear his ankle free with a loud crack, and a muffled gasp of pain.

 

As the Toa refocused on the scene before him, his enemy was not yet done; A quick, crude application of his element with what little control remained to him had returned to him the use of his leg. He shakily stood, hate burning in his eyes and sword still in hand. Truthfully, Firen wasn't much better; He walked with a slight limp, doing his best to ignore the slow, steady stream of blood from his right ankle. In a desperate lunge, the Fe-Toa brought his blade to bear, attempting to run him through. With an ease that bordered on contempt, the Toa of Data deflected it with a palm to the flat of the blade, bringing the Toa within easy reach. He wrapped his hand around the Fe-Toa's neck, regarding him a moment before tossing him to the floor. The gang member's defiance was spent, sword slipping loosely from his grasp as he slipped into a comatose state.

 

Firen returned his own sword to its sheath, and grabbed both of the Fe-Toa's now discarded weapons before collapsing heavily against the bar, taking a good, long look at his ankle. All in all, he wasn't too injured; His coat had protected him from torso injury, but his right ankle was in need of bandaging. Could be worse, all in all.

 

"Well, that sucked. Oi, you two behind the bar. You okay?"

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

OOC: So now we wait for what the others do with Chain #3...

 

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

The singer showed the same excitement from before. "Oh, we're fine." she replied. "Well, I am. He's drunk. But this is a bar, so that's understandable... say, who are you, anyways? Wait... hold up, I think I do know you!"

 

Quickly, she threw herself up onto the bar, where she sat. Pointing, she continued, "Yeah, I'm certain of it. It was last week, I think. Saw you pummeling some drug-smugglers on the west side. Which definitely makes you the one all of those lowlives keep complaining about. Coat, hat... creepy visor. I told 'em you weren't just a rumor!"

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

The visor's practical.

 

"Complaints and rumor-mongering? Then I'm doing my job right." The vigilante quipped dryly, carefully crouching as he rummaged through his pockets, coming up with a small, battered, nearly-depleted roll of bandages. After a cursory examination, he wrapped his ankle, tying the cloth as snugly as he could without risking an issue with circulation. Though the fabric steadily reddened, he wasn't overly concerned; Now that it had been bound, the loss of blood would slow soon.

 

Idly, he picked up and examined his opponent's rifle; Simple design, single shot before re-priming. Held what looked like three rounds, with the extra stored in the stock. Setting it down again, he made a mental note to take it with him if he could. It'd be useful.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"Well, it's hardly a rumor if it's true." she replied, still sitting and watching. "See, when you frequent as many places as I do, you start being able to tell what's true and what's not. Once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence. Three times? That's a story in the making... a song just waiting to be written."

 

"Still needs a few finish touches, of course." she mused. "Your modus operandi is about as refined as Old Keterko's discount protosteel, no offense, and a name... well, every hero needs a name, masked or no. You thought of one yet?"

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Haven't bothered with a name. Not exactly high on the priority list, I'm afraid." Why am I chatting with a patron in a bar? Now? He wondered to himself, eyes sweeping the room and reevaluating the situation, updating the information on his visor. "And my modus operandi has worked thus far."

 

"Why are you so interested, anyway?"

[Perp]

IC: Kelko (The Undercity, Artakha's Alehouse)

 

"'Cause she's into you, bruh," Kelko mumbled from behind the bar, still laying flat on the floor, eyes closed.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"Well, it's my job." she corrected, casually swiping something off the table to fall on (she reckoned, based on where her hearing pinpointed his voice was) Kelko's head. "Just like the bards of old, I collect stories, and write them into songs. And there are two things very wrong with what you just said - yes, it's working, but it's not distinctive. Enforcers kidnap or beat up people all the time, and gangs target each other even more so. You need something... flashier. Like a giant letter carved on the wall, or a giant flaming bird on the ground!"

 

"And the name, well, that speaks volumes... hmm... well, you don't talk much. And you wear grey. The Grey Silencer, maybe? No, colors are a cliche... hmm. The coat, perhaps? Nah, that's terrible... Maybe something in Old Matoran? Like a single word... preferably something that's easy to rhyme, just for simplicity's sake. Maybe just your real name, that could work!"

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Perp]

IC: Kelko (The Undercity, Artakha's Alehouse)

 

"Gah!" Kelko yelped, as the bottle struck him on the head. He then noticed exactly what had hit him and uncorked the bottle, taking a rather large gulp. "Thanks, m'lady..."