2016/01/10 - Death From Above
banshee
ellen
hotwire
jubilee
Death From Above
Participants Banshee Ellen Hotwire Jubilee
Synopsis A night of celebration turns ugly as back up arrives to help a fallen comrade… or something like that.
Location El Barrio
Time January 10, 2016
Posted By Jubilee

As evening begins pressing on into night, the sounds of this evening's entertainment can be heard, even from the neighbouring blocks. Here, in the middle of El Barrio, on one of the worst and most run down streets, a small but growing riot is underway. The source of the excitement? A Spider Sentinel that some of the local thugs have managed to bring down. It lies in the middle of the street, the pavement cracked beneath it where it free-fell like a tree in the forest. Its three long legs are still bound together by high tension wire, and it seems irreparably damaged, though it periodically twitches with crackling electricity and tries to pull itself free. People have poured forth from their shanty houses all around the area to celebrate the downing of a foe.

It didn't take long for the news of the fallen Sentinel to reach her own slum. Score one more victory for the residents of New York City, one more hit against 'the man'. Jubilation has taken the subway most of the way there, carrying her 'costume' in her backpack. Once she reaches Central Park, she put on her long coat and sunglasses to complete her transformation into Jubilee. It's a lame costume, but it's the best she could come up with on limited funds. At any rate, she makes her way along the rooftops until she spies the Spider on the ground below.

Hotwire was lost yet again. Seems to be a prepertal thing for her. But in this case, part of it was due to the fact that she HAD been speeding. She was driving down and side street, when she sensed something. She would have kept going, had she not spotted the huge item out of the corner of her eye. She pulls to a stop. WOW. This was unexpected, a spider sentinel that was being taken down.

Banshee wears no costume, not anymore. His exchanged his detective's suits for something more useful. A cloak of an earthy brown color conceals his torso, and a hood form said cloak covers his head. He walks with a long stick, not out of necessity, but more for usefulness. He makes his way slowly to the area, making his way through the crowd, some know who he is, some don't. he makes his way to the fallen 'creature' and looks at it, oddly. "It's not done." he says, in a yell. He makes himself heard without causing damage. "The core could still be intact. It could be recording us all right now… or worse, it could be jus' playin' possum. It's not time to celebrate jus' yet." The man's thick Irish brogue carries, and hopefully his words of warning carry weight as well.

She's off the clock. It's not her home. It's not her 'zone.' Ellen Giordano does not make a habit of entering the Barrio just any old day. She visits on occasion, and every now and then she tries to check in with one of the local businesses still trying to stay afloat. Once upon a time she had a rec centre friend living here. Their parents had a place. It's a ramshackle affair, and barely standing, but … it's still here. Call it a sense of obligation. Call it just something she 'does.' The fact is she can look out for herself and dare to enter. But she's smart enough not to wear her uniform; Ellen's a flatfoot. The PoPo. And the last thing she wants is to be recognized. Not everybody views the police favourably… and while she's got the protection she needs, it's easiest just to maintain a low profile. Hands stuffed in the pockets of a black puffy winter jacket, scarf wound around her neck, she draws in a slow breath and exhales, her boots leave neat footprints on the ground as she walks up the street, but as she nears … she begins to hear the people outside. Their voices get louder and more audible as she rounds a corner. Talking. Yelling? The brunette pauses. She stares ahead and sees…

One hell of a party. Wait, no: one hell of a Sentinel. Lips curling, Ellen remains standing where she is for the time being. "Oh f…" Slum news doesn't travel her way. The sight of the large contraption comes as a surprise.

Of course, you add a few volatile people to the mix, and the celebration quickly turns crazed. Words of warning are ignored - or perhaps heeded unwisely. From a front stoop, someone brings out a Molotov cocktail, igniting the rag and then hurling the glass bottle at the twitching robot. It smashes upon impact, sending burning fuel and shards of glass into the nearest onlookers, who quickly jump back or shout out in pain, depending on whether they were hit with the shrapnel. It's questionable the effect it has on the metal bot, but still, now the gates have opened, and soon another flaming cocktail is flying from another direction.

Laying low against the roof, Jubilee simply watches the scene unfolding below. Even with the raging against the machine, it's something better left for the police, they're better equipped to handle a mob than a high school drop out. At least for now. At least there aren't any children caught in the mix, not for now. The girl's almond shaped eyes flit toward someone who is not exactly a stranger, keeping her well within sights, just in case she gets caught up in the 'action'.

Hotwire knows that the robot could still cause trouble. More trouble than these people want. But it's more than that. There might be others this thing was after. She gets off her bike to move closer, but that isn't easy with idiots tossing cocktails about. Morons!

Banshee growls. It's one thing to be violent against the machines, but to cause harm to all the bystanders, that's just plain dumb. A loud' SKREEEEEEEEEE' is emitted as Banshee pulls his hood back and hovers ten feet above the crowd. "Ye bloody idiots! Knock off the sh*t! Yer gonna make things worse. There's no need to take your anger out on the crowd!" He hopes the sight might scare some sense into them, and possibly get the crowd to disperse before they can be injured any further. "The rest of ye should go home. This crowd is jus' goin' to bring in more of 'em.. especially when they notice this one of o' the grid!"

Ellen instantly starts patting down her jacket. Left pocket and then right. Her cell phone. She's searching for it. She's calling the whole thing in, or at least she -starts-: the flash of a Molotov cocktail catches her eye. One other colorful swear word leaves her lips as she staggers back a step with the resulting flames and flying glass. The second comes out shortly after, and the first impulse she has is to prevent any further injury. Back up will have to wait, but there's a chance someone's already gotten on the phone with the police over the lights and calamity in the Barrio anyway. The crowd control skills aren't going to work so great without her uniform, but she makes an effort anyway. The off duty cop rushes ahead, attempts to herd some of the people back, and in the loudest voice she can muster, yells, "Get away from it!" Only something -louder- rings out and, well, her expression turns to one of pain. The redhead hovering gets a particularly wide-eyed stare.

But now the mood is starting to turn more violent. These metal monstrosities have plagued the city - who can fault the denizens for wanting to work out some frustration on its metal hull? Some of the stragglers allow themselves to be edged back by Ellen, drifting at least a few feet back while still trying to peer at what's going on. A tall, skinny teen comes slipping up through the crowd, leaving a temporary opening in his wake. Darting at the Sentinel, he reigns down several hard blows with a baseball bat to the cheering of the crowds. It dents the Spider's hull, which is also further cause for celebration. He's about to bring down another blow when the screeching gets him to stop, dropping the wooden bat with a clatter. Of course, some of the angry mob see things differently. Somewhere in the crowd comes the rallying call: "Fuckin' mutie!" It does succeed in getting them to stop attacking the Sentinel for a moment - the next projectile (thankfully not a flaming one) is aimed for the hovering man. It's not without effect though, as things are starting to get a little too real for some of the onlookers, and some of the fringes begin to disperse.

The hovering man only gets a wide eyed stare from the girl on the rooftop as she pauses for only a moment or two more. She's always been a follower, not a leader. Uncertain of what to do in the wake of the anti-mutant cries from the crowd, she jumps down from the roof and into a nearby alley. She finds Hotwire in the crowd again and keeps a close eye on her, the woman bought her some food, she's good people. The hovering man, well from the screech he let out he can probably take care of himself, at least for a while before the girl will be forced to step in. She doesn't have an endless reserve of strength and if she's going to be of any use, she'll have to reserve what little she has.

Before she jumped down, Jubliee wasn't the only one enjoying the sights from a high-point advantage. There's a young man perched on one of the building's still remaining, but much less dependable, fire-escapes. With his dirty jacket and messy blond hair, he's definitely one of those who's used to these streets. But even his expert grip on the old metal can't completely help him when he takes the loud mutant screeching especially to heart. In a furtive attempt to grab at one ear, he slips on his place and tumbles down a row, banging his shoulder and getting a foot caught in-between the railings. His ankle twists painfully, but it's enough to keep him from falling more. Unfortunately, his shout of "Fuck!" probably blends in with the riled crowd.

Hotwire plugs her ears, when the fellow she has met once before screeches. The people start clearing from where she's trying to get a bit closer to the robot. A bit more dangerous too, with flying objects about. She gets close to the thing and focuses on it. She tries to use her powers on the machine, to disrupt it permanently.

Banshee rolls his eyes… Apparently the crowd wasn't as pro-mutant as he'd expected. No wonder they were acting like morons. He brings himself down and tries to blend in with the crowd. Obviously outing himself has made things worse. He thought he'd heard something from off in the distance but couldn't really make it out from the noise and the screams of the crowd.

Ellen barely noticed the kid slip by, but now that she's still trying to play human blockade, she sees the next projectile being waved. The crowd is still drowning out her surroundings, and she's almost certainly still focused on keeping herself between the dwindling onlookers and the fallen Sentinel. All the mutants in the area, minus Banshee, have pretty much slipped her notice, and whether or not she's got pleasant thoughts running through her head to even out the sudden injection of hatred towards mutant helpers is pretty much open to debate given she's now -glaring- somewhat, but she's not joining in the crowd. Mutant. Flying. Running crowd control himself? Whatever. She's busy. Yelling again. But now it's about something else. "Oh shit. Is that some guy hangin' over there?" Ellen… spotted it. Only it's All The Way Up There.

The Spider shudders a few times, not quite shutting down, but quickly getting worse as Hotwire starts trying to power it down. The crackling electricity sparks and then dies out, leaving it with an unprotected hull. The crowd is mixed in their mutant views, it would seem, the boy with the bat picks up his weapon, offering it to Banshee with a muttered, "Hey man, you cool?" It's not entirely clear whether the intent is for Banshee to have a swing at the machine or at the bigots who tried to take him out. The attempts at crowd control aren't entirely ineffective though - by now most of the stragglers have started to see the wisdom in returning to their homes, leaving just the hardcore rioters and those stuck in the crowd, trying to push their way free.

From her place in the alley, Jubilee spots the boy dangling from the fire escape. Testing each rung carefully as she climbs up toward him. The metal is definitely old and in every place she can manage, she uses the building itself to balance her weight against. It's slow going, but she finally manages to get into his sight and good speaking range. "Can you hold on to the metal if I try to get your foot loose?" It's probably the dumbest question that he's heard all day, but there it is.

Hotwire staggers back from the robot, now that she knows that no info is going to go anywhere. That will keep any mutant detail secret. Not unless they were still around when the true authorities arrived. For her, she needs to go rest and soon.

Oh shit, there is some guy hanging over there. And he indulges in a bit more of that colorful language until Jubilee's face, so to speak, pops sideways into his vision. "-even mother-fu- what?! Oh." Her question takes a second to register with the man but then he does make a modest effort to swing an arm awkwardly out to grab for part of the fire escape. It is really somewhat hindering, being mostly upside-down. His eyes wander down and down and down to the street. "You have a better plan, masked wonder? Because, let me tell you, I have the upper arm strength of something with absolutely no upper arm strength.

Banshee hears Erin and looks over to where she's pointed. "Shit." he says as he takes to the sky once again and speeds over to fire escape. Speed is of the essence, so if people get popped ears, oh well. "Hold on, boyo. We'll get ye outta there as soon as possible." A brow is raised at the sunglass wearing teen girl. "This ain't no comic book, Lassie. Either help or get somewhere safe.. I dunno if I can carry the both of ye."

When his offer of the bat is ignored, the kid shrugs to himself and then takes advantage of the stilled Sentinel to get in another few good hits. The Spider doesn't react at all anymore, a lifeless hull that is only getting more damaged. But the crowd has grown restless and another homemade pyrotechnic is lobbed at the robot, and more shrapnel scatters the immediate area, a piece of it hitting the boy and knocking him to the ground with a gash in his forehead.

By now the brunette cop is watching anxiously as some other figure appears on the fire escape. She has no idea how she got up there, but quite frankly, it's not her biggest concern. That would be whether or not she can actually manage to get him down. Isn't she just some teenaged girl? …or no. Maybe she's one of the street kids around here.. It's hard to tell from that distance. Ellen can only speculate, in between keeping tabs on what the rest of the crowd is doing. Their numbers have diminished, and she can be glad for that, at least, but it's still very much a scene of unrest. "Hey, hey!" she starts as one the other projectile gets tossed. "Watch it! Damn!" The kid goes down. Ellen makes for his side.

Hotwire watches now, she herself not really having any energy to much of anything, never mind try to get to her bike. But now there's the danger of the whoever's throwing the flaming cocktails. She decides to see if she can spot the person or people throwing the things. She's not sure what she could do once she spots them.

Giving a 'look' to the hovering man, Jubilation set her jaw and withdraws from the dangling boy. "I am capable, but since you are able to fly you are much better equipped to aid him than I am." She does however keep a hold of the boy to make sure he doesn't fall further. "Perhaps I could hold him while you loosen his foot, or I will loosen his foot while you hold him. He has the upper body strength of someone that has none."

The arrival of Banshee is not necessarily well-heralded by the hanging man. "Hey, boyo, this is your fault in the first place. And now ya'll talkin' like I'm a meat sa-" He is interrupted again, but this time by seemingly nothing. There isn't really a change in the noise of the crowd, but the man still cocks his head and seems to zone out of the current situation entirely. Then, just as suddenly, he tips his gaze back where he was and gives an instinctual twist like he means to get away and has forgotten he's stuck. The flaring pain in his ankle seems to remind him. Immediately, his tone has changed. "Incoming!" is barked, like one who's used to being look-out. He even sticks two fingers in his mouth and manages an upside-down whistle. "Incoming- get me outta here- here we go!" He grabs for fire-escape, Jubilee, Banshee. It doesn't matter at this point.

Banshee nods to Jubilee.. "Tha works, Lass." He says as he moves to grab the young man, but when he panics, he doesn't necessarily make it easy. He can imagine what the boy is yelling about, but asks.. "Incoming?" he looks to the girl.. "Sentinels… We've not much time." He's sure he can't go far with the two of them, but he'll grab them quick if needed.

Hotwire is gaining her strength, but she knows she isn't up for anything, not after making sure the spider wasn't going to do anything. Her bike. If something was coming, she needed her bike. And then there was the cop and the injured fellow. Her bike first.

Ellen has two priorities now. One, dragging the kid out of the line of fire. Two, seeing if she can't put a stop to the cocktails. Back up isn't here. She's still very much on her own. Now the mutant's up with the guy on the fire escape. So the latter's gonna involve more thinking if she even gets to it. Right now, though, it's that head wound and whether not the boy can actually squirm his way out of the danger zone that has her moving to try to intercept. She reaches to try and latch onto his shoulders, and while keeping one eye on the crowd, gets herself into the position to pull. Something moves past her head. Rubble from somewhere. It nearly clips her. She ignores it, and manages to gently 'yank' the prone figure across the pavement. "Easy… easy… okay, now the fuck am I gonna… go so's he can get the medical hel…?" A pause. She falls silent. Was that a whistle from somewhere?

The crowd is down to its dregs by now, just the hardcore rioters and the injured scattered about, some being helped by those in the crowds. Now comes a new cry - voices calling out, trying to find those they've become separated from. With the crowd thinning, it becomes easier to see those who remain, and amongst them are three figures in black hoodies, positioned around the crowd. While there are many people throwing rubble, these three seem to be chief amongst the pyromaniacs, setting things ablaze with zippos before chucking them into the midst of the throng.

Gripping the metal of the fire escape, Jubilee climbs up a few rungs past the blonde boy and hooks her feet into it. It's a job that requires two hands, so she needs to have both of them free. "Okay, easy, do not kick me, okay?" She reaches down with her arms and begins her attempt to free the boy's foot but it's stuck, really stuck. "Sir, can you lift him further up? I am afraid he is too heavy for me to lift and his foot is very stuck. Please hurry." The metal isn't as sturdy as she'd like and the little hero that couldn't isn't relishing the thought of falling to her doom.

Banshee isn't paying attention to the crowd at the moment. Right now he's concerned with the boy and getting everyone cleared before the monstrosities arrive, which may be a tall order. He reaches for the young man and is careful not to tug on him, making things worse. "We need to make this quick."

The guy gives no promises. Instead, he just rattles off an "Ow ow ow," when his foot is moved. As tense as he is probably isn't helping, because every time she tries to move the foot, it hurts, and he resists - even unconsciously. They might have to lose the shoe to get more wiggle room.

Hotwire curses loudly in Arabic. She makes a faster move to her bike. In english, she actually yells, "Scatter!" She gets to her bike. and starts it up. There's the cop with the injured kid and the fellow she met before. The guy can fly, the cop and injured kid can't. She drives her bike close to the area where the woman and the injured kid went. "Need help? Must hurry. Something is coming…"

The new cries drown out even more. Ellen doesn't immediately see the hooded figures. Brown eyes take the situation above in again. A slanted expression whose spoken English equivalent would 'What in the blue blazes is he doing now?' finds its way to Ellen's face. He's looking kind of … hasty and wiggly all of a sudden. She breathes out anxiously, but the two are still working on getting him down. And Hotwire's bike, as it roars into the picture, has her looking back over her shoulder. "What? Oh. Yeah. Get him on if you can. He…" she trails off, and growls under her breath as she catches those other sparks of fire finally, "That them? And they're -still- goin'. Fuckers." She scrambles to her feet again.

It grows slowly, but there is a slight rumbling to the ground and those people on the farthest fringe, way up the street, seem to find cause to suddenly scatter a lot more quickly. The hardcore and injured crowd that remains is mostly unaware, though a few people turn away in uncertainty at Hotwire's cry. The boy who had previously been at bat remains unconscious, easily moved around, other than being as heavy as a lanky lad might be.

The Asian girl reaches to her face and removes her sunglasses, she'll need as much light as she can to try to get the shoe off. It takes a bit of work, probably longer than any of the three wish but then the foot is finally free the noxious fumes from his bare foot bring tears to Jubilation's eyes. "Oh goodness…" She's caught somewhere in between wanting to vomit, wanting to faint, and dropping from the escape like an ethered fruit fly. Regardless, the shoe is gone, completely gone because it landed somewhere below them in the alley. "I think that some of the smell has gotten into my mouth…" she squeaks, the bile rising, "And it tastes much like death." The rumbles cause a small ringing in the metal, relaying the urgency of the task ahead of them.

If it weren't for Banshee's support, the young man, now down a shoe, probably would have plummeted. He never had that great of a grip on the railing. "Hey, princess, I'm sure your alleys smell like roses." He retorts, dry and frustrated. "You can bring all complaints to the street cleaners comin' in." Cue the rumbling and the scattering— the latter of which this street punk would very much like to get to if everyone's done examining his hygiene.

Banshee holds the boy up. He looks to Jubilee. "Can ye get down quickly enough? I can grab ye but…" he shrugs, holding the kid. "I'll come back for ye…" He says as he turns, making his way as quickly to the ground as possible.

"I am not sure. I can drive, but boy unconscious." Hotwire responds, "Also not know area. Think both of you can ride with me? You give directions? Must hurry. Big BIG trouble come." The more she worries, the harder it is for her to speak english clearly.

"Big.. what?" Ellen turns a second time. "And oh… you don't have some of side car? I don't know, looks like he's kind of heavy to be…" There's rumbling, and Ellen seems to pause again, frowning as she looks up the street. That does feel like things she doesn't want be around for. Purely because… the boys in blue are one story. The big guys in metal are another. They're the last ones she wants to encounter here.

The rumbling grows in intensity until it's unmistakable, and then, the sound nearby, the mechanical voice of the Sentinel: "Illegal activity spotted. Cease and desist." At earliest sound of them, panic immediately grips the crowd, and they begin to flee in varying directions, stampedes heading towards lane-ways and alleys. The three hooded figures, perfectly in synch, turn their backs on the Spider's remains and promptly disappear from sight as if stepping behind a curtain. The rumbling persists as the Sentinels continue their slow but relentless approach. They aren't close enough to attack yet, but they soon will be, which the crowd knows only too well.

With the weight of the boy off the escape, Jubilee feels safe enough to unhook her feet and swing down. Just as she lands on the platform of the first floor, the metal gives way, forcing her to leap from there to the stop of a nearby dumpster. Thankfully it's closed. With a clang, Jubilee makes a not so graceful landing just as the large metal frame drops to the ground in a giant clatter. Something very sure to grab the attention of anyone nearby.

The young man manages to not be too disagreeable of a rescued person until the exact second he touches ground. Pushing Banshee away - out of eagerness more than a means to hurt the other man - he scrambles even on that slightly disabled foot further down the alley. There's a brief moment where he glances back at how much attention Jubilee is calling to herself… but instincts trump all. Shrugging his indifference, he works at a space on the ground until a pothole becomes evident. Working the cover away, he quickly vanishes into its depths. This may be a slight hint as to the source of all that smell that nearly did Jubilee in.

Hotwire peers at the woman and the injured boy. She doesn't know if they are human or mutant. She sure the heck doesn't want to be around when the Sentinels arrive. She's in no shape after blasting the spider. If there was something else she could drive, she would. She swears in Arabic, then looks at the two. "How hurt is boy? Must leave. Can't stop big BIG robot."

Banshee lets go of the boy and then does as promised. He flies up to find Jubilee only to find her on the ground. He takes a split second to see everyone scatter. He zips to where she is. "Are ye gonna be alright? Ye got a way out?" He asks, looking away frantically.

Ellen is not one of the Hunted, but she knows what it means to get caught in the crossfire. Glowering in irritation, the policewoman eyes the kid, and then the biker. "Yeah," she begins anew. "There's a clinic, I think, or something in the area. If not… just… I'll get on the back and hold him. He hasn't responded to movement, and as far as I know, he's still breathing okay, but he needs lookin' after, like -soon-. I'm not countin' on an EMT gettin' here to check him out before he's mashed into a fine patty by those things comin' through," she's warm and fluffy, this one, "so we'll chance it." She'll stabilize him and he can loll over like a limp noodle. Still at that age where he's stringy. Maybe he won't be quite as heavy.

It's then that one of the Tank models comes rolling into sight, the intimidating head smoothly emerging from around a tall building. "Illegal activity in progress. Halt and prepare for detainment." It speaks so dispassionately. But to further make its point, a jet of flame comes shooting out of one arm, igniting an abandoned car and causing screams amongst the crowd. And right behind that Tank another one is coming rumbling into view. Word of the disturbance must have spread. The options here seem to be flee now, get arrested, or be killed. Not surprisingly, most people seem to be going with option number one. Fortunately, these things aren't fast; just mainly unstoppable.

Shaking her head, Jubilation gives a very worried look in the direction of the Sentinels. "No, I can run but I do not think I am fast enough to run away from them." In fact, she knows she's not fast enough to run away from them. She wasn't able to before. She gives the flying man a frantic look and her eyebrows knit together in a worried fashion. She's really not used to asking for help, but she's ready to swallow her pride. Some hero she's turning out to be. "Please help me. I do not wish to go back to jail."

The balance on the bike is completely off. The motor bike a cross between a hog and a dirt bike with a square trunk. Hotwire holds the bike. She is really wanting to get going. She has gone years without getting registered and she wants to stay unregistered! She helps the boy and woman up on her bike and tries to unsteadily get it going. "Where go? Left? Right?"

Banshee nods.. "Me neither, lass. me neither." he says as he swoops forward and picks the girl up. "Hold on….. and cover yer ears. I'll let up once we're safe." He says as he starts up his scream for flight. He's not used to carrying an extra body, and thankfully he's got an empty warehouse nearby. That's his intended destination.

"Oh fuckin' A..!" complains the native New Yorker with a hint of dread creeping into her voice; she's seen the first out-of-control contraption strolling into the area. All else is forgotten as worried thoughts invade her head. The streets just aren't a place for cops anymore… Badge or not, she's definitely SOL. "Uh, hell, right. You—" Ellen says to Hotwire. "Concentrate on drivin'. I got this." She means the (still unconscious and moveable?) body. Her shirt sleeve is going to be used to apply pressure to that head wound while she tries to keep them both atop the back end of the bike.

Mercilessly, the Tanks just keep on rolling like the unstoppable force that they are. People scramble to get out of the way, and those who were caught fleeing the wrong way find themselves at the back of the pack. One guy goes down in a tumble of electrified net, convulsing a few times before going still. Another jet of flame from the other Sentinel is enough to encourage the crowd to surge forward with greater haste. A few others are following that lead and leaping into the sewer to get away. Others flee into narrow alleys or derelict buildings in the hopes the large machines can't follow in the confined space.

Between holding on and covering her ears, well that's a decision. So she tries to make the best of the situation and hangs on for dear life with one hand while plugging one of her ears with the other. She presses the other side of her head tightly against the man's chest which probably won't do much in retrospect but it's the best she can think of on short notice. Just before he takes off again, the girl wraps her legs tightly around his torso to help her grip. Being off the ground in an action that's not of her own volition isn't her ideal.

Hotwire is glad her bike is built for circumstances like this. Add with her powers, she can sense where there a big group of electronics, so she goes in the obvious opposite directions and down an alley way. "Which way to help?"

Banshee takes off with Jubilee in tow. It's not the smoothest flight, but it's enough to get them airborne and above the rooftops. He stays low enough to keep from any reinforcements from getting too close, and he takes a roundabout route to the warehouse, in case they're being tracked.

"Right, right!" repeats Ellen in a harrowed tone. "Up the side street." For the moment, she's counting on the 'civilian' to know where to drive in order to get them out of the war zone. Not through. Around.! She's gotten settled onto the seat, one arm bracing, the other around the kid as intended, stretched cloth-covered hand held against his forehead. "And step on it, 'cause…" Nonverbally she gestures with her free hand. Them. They're already blasting away. People are scrambling, and it's looking like the things'll have the whole area partitioned off in no time. Anger, however, briefly flashes in her eyes. One word sums it up for her: "Insanity…"

Fortunately for our intrepid heroes, the Tanks still have several slower, non-flying or driving perps to round up, which keeps them busy and slows their progress, allowing the two groups to get away against a backdrop of flame, electricity, and cries of pain or pleas for mercy. Just another night in Spanish Harlem.

The bike wobbily goes in the direction the woman tells Hotwire, as long as it's AWAY from the blasting and the tanks and BIG robots. More Arabic from her. They are getting further and further away from the chaos.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License