Summary:Vixen stops another attempt on her collection and is … aided … by Logan Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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Logan dropped LogieLoggie.
It's late at night outside McCabe Industries, in Midtown. The alarms in the building had been going off for a hot minute or two.
Out of the alley to the side, there's the sound of pounding feet of the sidewalk from the alley, heading towards to the street. "Oh my god, that bitch is fucking crazy," Says one guy as he rounds the corner. "Ooooof" says a second as he's sent flying and a dark skinned woman in mustard coloured leathers pounces on him.
There was another figure in the alley, far more quiet, far more still. The metal door of a building defining the other side of the alley was propped open so that this figure could sit on an upside-down plastic pail. He was in dusty jeans, loosely laced work boots, and a t-shirt. There was drywall dust speckled on him, evidence of his late-night work to help finish a renovation. Good ol' undocumented night time labour. He was puffing on a cheap cigar when he heard the sound of running, the sound of heartbeats. The sound of the commotion has him sighing faintly. He stands and peeks out around the edge of the alcove, to at least see what's going on. His cigar remains clamped between his teeth.
The first guy rounds, pulling a pistol and fires twice at the dark skinned woman. Logan might wonder if he's seeing things as the glowing silhouette of a rhinocerous seems to appear behind the woman and she grunts as the bullets hit her.
Punching the guy she's just pounced on in the jaw to knock him, Mari tumbles, rolling herself up into a stand as she smacks the guys weapon hand wide. "I hope you've got a licence for that…" she growls.
That guy, the guntoting one, see's Logan appear. "Hey, buddy? A bit of help will ya? She's psycho. I refused to buy her a dr—- oof " Mari puches him in the stomach and he doubles over.
Logan remains in the alcove for just a moment, but then with another sigh trudges forward. He crosses the alleyway and makes his way toward the last remaining man standing and the dark-skinned woman. "Don't got a lot of sympathy for someone who shoots without warning," he observes as he makes his way over. Still. The woman is obviously a meta human and Logan looks to at least make sure that she doesn't get too extreme with the beating she's likely to lay on the gunman. For all his lazy stride, he's got fast reactions and outstanding senses. If he needs to intervene, he can be on them in an instant.
Is she a meta human? That's probably a good assumption given the current situation in New York.
Behind Logan, the decked guy groans and tries to rise - she hadn't hit him hard enough, clearly. "You bitch …" he grates out, flopping back on the ground, to try again.
With the guy doubled over, Mari grabs and flips him - the outline of the rhinocerous changing to a gorilla just she does. She's … strong. Strong enough to turn the guy facedown on the pavement, while fishing cable ties from the utility belts she wears.
"Are you going to be a problem as well?" She quips to Logan, the word accentuated by the 'ziiiip' as she secures the guys hands.
"Maybe," Logan answers noncommittally but without rancour. He lifts one shoulder in an indifferent sort of shrug. He lifts one foot as he reaches the man stating to try to get up, and rests the foot on the man's shoulder, to roll him back onto the ground, flat on his back. Logan certainly has enough strength to do so without much in the way of effort. "Stay down, dumb-dumb," he advises, puffing on his cigar and watching Mari secure the zip tie in place on the first man. "What's the story here? I'm guessin' more to it than you not gettin' a drink bought for ya."
The woman straightens from her task, the silhouette of an ape fading, leaving just her in that mustard and black coloured set of leathers. Odds on, they're reinforced somehow. At her throat sits a fox-headed pendant - it's very … tribal in its look.
She moves, a little gingerly, to the guy Logan has his foot on and ties his wrists as well. "They were stealing from me. I caught them. They didn't like it." she says easily.
"Do I look like the type of woman who'd drink with guys like this." She's still wary but there's a quiet confidence to her manner as she looks at the man.
"People call me Vixen." When she's in costume, at least.
Logan slides his foot off the grumbling thief (alleged thief!) as the woman bends to restrain that one as well. "Yeah, that seems more like it," Logan answers, taking a step back. He draws tthe cigar from his mouth and turns his head to spit a fragment of the paper that had flaked off in his mouth. He ignoes the spiteful, expletive-laced muttering of the men as he notes, "Don't gotta get classist over the whole thing. You don't look like you'd drink with me either." The introduction she offers earns her a quick, appraising once-over. "Logan," he answers. "So what'd they try to steal?"
"Fair enough." Mari answers amiably enough, flashing Logan a grin. "That was rude. I don't do drinks with guys that try and steal from me. If they fail, they simply aren't up to my standards." Cheeky woman.
With the alarms in the building blaring, it can't be long from the Police arrive and she doesn't seem in a hurry to get out of there.
With another cheeky look for his foot on the guy, Mari takes a moment before raising her eyes to Logans. "Thank you for you help." It seems genuine enough, even if there's a sparkle in her eye.
"They tried to steal the McCabe Artifact collection."
Logan smirks at the cheeky response offered by Vixen. "Gotta have standards," he notes in an agreeable tone. He puffs once more on his cigar, glancing down at the man at his feet. The words of thanks earn the heroine a lofted brow. "I didn't do shit, lady," he answers, "But you're welcome." He nudges the guy at his feet with a boot. "Hey. Don't try to steal artifact collections. They sound fancy," he advises. Then, as he hears a distant siren even against the claxon of Mari's building alarm, he nods to the side. "I better get back to it. Smoke break's over."
"You don't give a woman a name?" Mari asks, as there's the sound of people exiting McCabe Industries building. A security detail.
The man leading them is slightly older, the name tag reads Markham, and he gives Vixen an exacerbated look. "Next time, you leave them to us. It's our job and the Board isn't likely to want your skin." he admonishes the woman.
"You were too slow and I was out patrolling anyway." Mari answers turning her attention to Logan with a knowing grin.
"Don't like law enforcement? Not many do." With a wave to Markham, the woman starts back towards the alley, watching Logan, expecting an answer.
"Logan," he repeats, exhaling a plume of smoke upward and to the side. "Name's Logan." He taps some ash off the end of his cigar and watches, one eye narrowing slightly, the appearance of the security detail. Late. He offers a small smirk, now standing a few feet away from the others, fairly obviously not part of the fracas that unfolded here. He lingers long enough for Mari's return, sensing the conversation wasn't done. "And, yeah, plenty of reason not to like cops," he agrees. "You oughta be careful too, with those two nice white boys there on the ground." His tone implies this is a bold choice for a joke.
"Logan then. Pleased to meet you." The forthright woman holds a hand out before glancing back at the men on the ground "What do I have to worry about? We'll have the security footage and I'm good standing …"
As much good standing as many of the superheroes in the city are.
"Perhaps I should be asking what has you out this time of night?" If she's worried for her safety she doesn't show it. Then again, after what he just saw - should she be?
Logan takes a step forward to shake hands. His own are well-calloused, white with drywall dust. He smirks and shrugs in response to her question. "Cops don't always see what's obvious or what's reasonable," he observes. "Though… if you don't gotta worry about the bullets, you're probably okay even if you get some bad ones." Cops, his tone indicates. He glances back behind him then explains, "They're doin' a remodel in there. They're behind schedule so I'm doin' some drywall for 'em. Was just takin' a smoke break."
"I suppose they don't, but in a city like this, I can't blame them. When the next guy they try to help could take their head off without a so much of a 'by your leave'. I'll be careful though." There's another cheeky grin as she adds "I didn't know you cared so much."
"I make it a policy to try and not upset the local boys in blues. There might be bad ones, but most are pretty decent." Her eyes float to the building that Logan identifies. "Is that what you do, Logan? Construction labour?"
"I'm a real sweetheart," he jousts back easily enough on the subject of him caring. He is content to leave aside the subject of the police, taking another drag on his cigar before he exhales out to the side slowly. As for the follow up question to him, he answers with another one-shoulder shrug. "Pays the bills decently," he answers. "So when I need some cash, I do it. Listen…" The sirens are coming closer - audible to normal people now, certainly. But that's not what he wants her to listen to. "I better get back to it. But… I didn't see nothin' worth anything anyhow. So… I don't really have anything to say to the cops. And if I gotta talk to 'em, I'll have to be here all night. So best I go, and if you can see to not mentionin' me, that'd be great."
"Mention who?" Mari deadpans, considering Logan as he takes his leave. "You ever need work, drop in and tell them Vixen sent you. We don't do a lot in pure construction but when we've got a show on, we have lot of put up / break down work. Don't know if it's of interest, but you did me a solid."
There's another glow about her, this time in the shape of an eagle, Mari gives a little wave and lifts off … heading to the rooftop. "Bye, who ever you were."
Logan smirks and nods once when she mentions the work. "I'll keep it mind," he affirms. Then, as she soars upward, his eyes follow. He turns without further comment, nothing more than an amused shake of his head. He trusts her to keep an eye on the captives in the alleyway, or the police to at least be able to handle or track down a couple of zip-tied would-be crooks. Logan butts out his cigar on the cinderblock wall next to the doorway, slips the remainder of his cigar into his pocket, then slips back inside. He removes the item propping the door open and pulls it shut after him.