2019-07-15 - Vigilantes Are Dicks


What happens when psibernetically enhanced ninjas hit Staten Island? Nightwing gets involved.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Mon Jul 15 03:40:00 2019
Location: Staten Island

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Theme Song



All units we have a possible 10-32 at the Nishimura Building. Respond Code 3, repeat, Respond Code 3.
This is Adam 114. We're enroute code 3
This is Adam 15. Responding code 3 with Adam 26 and Adam 98.
All units be advised, there is a 10-66 in progress. Reports of individuals moving along the rooftops. Possible vigilante incident.

Shiranui knows he's on a timer and things are just getting worse. Hard drive in hand he leaps onto a cable connecting the high rise he just exited with a much lower building across the street and sliiiiiides along it, seemingly impossibly.

He can hear the sirens. The first police are starting to arrive and already people are reporting some kind of 'ninja'. Which is what he looks like, in a full face covering, hood and flowy jacket, armed with what is unmistakeably a sword hilt over his shoulder and several things glowing violet on his arms and back.

He knows the Hand will be here soon. Police and Hand. What a night.

Ryoshi had been getting Pizza when she felt the operative go active. She *hates* it when that happens because she simply can't ignore the imperative her implants exert on her will. Pizza left at the counter, with the server looking somewhat put out at the fact she's not left a tip, the brunette moves quickly.

He's only a block away and that's easy for her to find. Rolling the sleeves of her jacket up, revealing two leather braces covered in metal scales, the woman heads to the alley where she pulls a mask to her face, leaping to the dumpster with surprising ease, that landing on the fire stairs and then then that one. Three jumps and she's running along the roof, following the pull her implants have on her.

As she runs the metal is removed from her braces and formed into the metal chakrams held one in each hand. "I'm coming for you, Shiranui" she mutters. "You won't get away from me this time." She's working against the clock and she knows it.

There he is. She puts on a burst of speed.

Detective Third Grade: Dick Grayson is enjoying a cup of black black BLACK coffee. Say what you want about NYPD, and there's a lot to be said in every direction, but they know /everything/ about their city. Namely, where to get the best coffee. And this shit could disolve a spoon. He's just about to take another sip, knowing he's going to scald his tongue again and not caring, when the radio in the car chirps. He tilts his head, listens, then turns to eye his partner who calmly reaches over and flicks off the radio. "Homocide." he says, pointing at the pair of them, "Bullshit." he points at the radio. Then stuffs a Jelly doughnut into his maw and adds thoughtfully. "Break."

Dick eyes him, "Gibbs." he says flatly and the heavyset man tilts his head to eye the younger. He takes another bite, then grunts as jelly splorts out the other end and falls onto his already stained tie, "Go nuts kid. Here, I'll give ya back up." and he lazily reaches over to flick a switch on the dashboard, causing the 'plain' car to light up and bark a couple of 'bee woops' of the siren. Then he takes another bite and continues to stare at Dick. Dick sighs, "Radio when I get something." and he's out the car and gone before the older man can finish chewing. He gets a half hearted thumbs up in response.

It's down an alley, up two side streets, another alley, and he's already tugging at his own tie, tossing it away as he leaps into the air and grips the bottom rung of a fire escape. He maps the city in his head, the location of call, roofs one can use to move quickly from that location. He adjusts his tradjectory as his momentum carries him up the building less like a man then a monkey. By the time he's landed on the roof's edge, he's already turning to stare in the direction he assumes the 'vigilantes' would be headed…. whoa. Someone's fast. Dick grins.

There's a puff of purple smoke as the one who is doing cable surfing leaps the rest of the distance to the roof he's aiming at. Dick can see squad cars arriving at ground level. Officers are piling out, weapons drawn. Protect and serve and all that but some of these mask types don't mess around.

Shiranui can see something else though. His escape is about to be blocked off by a dozen people moving at speed over the rooftops in the direction he was going to flee.

So he drops down into an alley and when he emerges the officers yell at him to stop. He does not.

So they shoot.

And that's when half a dozen masked men with swords drop in both in front of and behind the cops.

Ryoshi is on the other side of that fracas though. She's got a clear line to the masked figure running at top speed toward the building he just came down from.

Ryoshi moves almost like poetry across the roof top. Her clothes non descript and her face obscured by the mask she's pulled on. The only thing that identifies her are the leather bracers now and her sleeves are soon pulled down over them. The fracas, the men with the swords - she sees all that, but that doesn't matter, her vision narrows to the escaping Shiranui.

Her prey. The one she's been tracking for … months? Or is it years? She really can't remember. All she knows is she's to capture or kill him.

She leaps across the gap in the rooves - Dick will see that and know that a 'normal' human shouldn't be able to make that. Not as easily as that and certainly not landing as lightly as she does. And it is she - he can be sure of that much - not just because of how tiny she is.

As gets close enough to Shiranui, one chakram is loosed. Spinning out from her like a frisbee but much, much, much harder and faster than a woman of her build she be able to do. It's heading straight for the other Ninja.

Dick Grayson's shirt flutters away behind him as he goes, exposing the nearly skin tight body armor that hides almost constantly beneath his plain clothes. His badge and gun are slipped into a micromesh bag and unfurls from a pouch on his belt. He attaches the bag to the grapple and points, fires with a WHOOF, and keeps moving. The bag attaches itself to the roof of a water tower, securing in place as Nightwing blurs past. The pants are well hidden tear aways, hooray for Sport/Suit Wear, an extension of Wayne Enterprises fashion arm, for the business professional on the go, and also drop to a new roof as Nightwing makes the leap.

He rolls with the impact and his eyes narrow at the sudden change in tactical situation. "Shit." he says, his hand comeing to his face and securing a domino mask over his eyes, it's backing adhereing in place instantly. He's not rocking his full kit, not for a patrol with Gibbs, this is his emergency stash of gear. The armor is lighter, the armorment is bare bones, and he's completely without his prefered weapons. Well. The sticks anyway. He makes two rapid decisions, "Double shit." his arms pump in opposite directions as he leaps into thin air without a moments hessitation, his body twisting so that he's upside down as he hurls his 'weapons'. A wing-ding, meant to intercept, or at least throw off, the chakram's current path, while a trio of small spheres drop down towards the ground.

He twists in the air and makes the call to let the ninjas flee, and instead does what he's been taught. Save the civilians. The trio of sphere's impact the sidewalk around the cops, exploding with soft noises and instantly sending up a thick blinding smoke. Nightwing is hot on it's heels, his own heels aimed straight for the shoulderblades of one of the ninja that have dropped down behind the cops. "You guys have the /worse/ luck." he says as he enters the fray in violent and sudden fashion.

The men with swords definitely know how to use them. Nightwing powerbombs one ninja but can see the flash of a blade headed toward him from the second. And he can hear the weapons fire start. How much to the police like Nightwing? Maybe they won't shot in his direction. Or maybe they will.

Nightwing won't see the wingding knock the chakram off course, nor will he see what happens when it does. Nor will he see the fleeing ninja kickflip off the wall and make it into the conveniently provided smoke. That'll piss Ryoshi off.

But he will see something slide by him on the hood of a car, take one of the cops in the chest with a boot and then run through one of the swordsmen who just - poof - turns to greyish dust and ash.

The Chakram is knocked by the wingding, wobbling as its course is forcefully changed by the Bats own weapon, but only for an instant - it's motion is arrested and the blade seems to hang in the area for a split second.

Then it's spinning again, in a more round about path as Shiranui disappears into that smoke.

Ryoshi swears in Japanese, halting her head long pelt in that direction, concentrating … ah there he is.

She turns towards where Nightwing has just dropped down and launches herself towards that … thing that slid over the hood of the car. Not paying attention to the others there, intent on one thing and one thing alone. Shiranui. Not even Nightwings amazing form will catch her attention.

The Chakram? It spins back from where it was, landing in her hand as she lashes out trying hit the fleeing Shiranui with the other one she carries.

Dick Grayson's eyes narrow a bit as the smoke thickens around them, around the cops, quickly blotting out anyone's ability to see. Like him or not, the NYPD isn't going to fire blindly into smoke clouds either. That's how you get on the front page of the Bugle or the Post, and no one wants that shit. He drops low, his leg snapping out to hit a supporting leg's ankle while his body twists and a palm strike finds its way into the solar plexus of another advancing ninja. They're good. They're… really good. His smile fades a little, having to focus.

He slips through them as they come at him, blades flashing. A wing-ding buries itself in a thigh, the edge of a palm cracks a collarbone, a snapping elbow dislocates a shoulder. He flows, twirls, dips, and leaps amid the sword wielders, like a silk ribbon on the breeze. With punching. Lots of punching. He ignores a graze along his shoulder, another on his ribs that the armor mostly turned. "I mean seriously, you couldn't have picked Chicago for this crap? I don't think anyone's patroling Chicago right now. Oo! Or Dubai. They have that really high building, coulda ninja'd all day on that thing."

"You talk a lot for someone in the middle of a sword fight with no sword." Says someone nearby. It's. Well, it's that guy. That guy who apparently burglarized a high rise owned by a a Japanese company and is now fighting a bunch of cops and ninja in the smoke next to Nightwing.

Wizz! That Chakram comes in at a perfect angle through the smoke and Dick sees the guy who started this whole thing extend a hand and some kind of barrier springs into being for an instant to deflect it. Then he elbows a cop who was coming up behind him. A cop he could not have possibly seen.

"Can we do this some other time?!" He calls out to Ryoshi through the smoke. That might give his position away but as he's moving to be behind Nightwing…

Ryoshi just growls and flips over a car when Shiranui blocks her melee hit. "No, we can't. You know that, Shiranui. You're mine, you just don't know it yet." Her foot lashes out, kicking a police man in the jaw as she hits another one with her chakram. She doesn't stop moving as she works her towards the other ninja.

She can her him, her Chakram arcs out again, propelled so much harder than it should be. This time though, it's aimed right at Nightwing as the small masked woman starts barrelling towards him.

Dick Grayson leaps straight up, his knees tucking up under his chin as a sword slips through the space he was just in, and he plants his hands on the swordsman's shoulders, helping him on his way into off balanceness and a face first meeting with the street. "Yeah. I get that a lot. You should see me in a gunfight. I'm down right chatty. Occasionally I flirt, but you're not really my type." then people are hitting cops, "Hey! Watch it with the NYPD! They're fragile!"

Shiranui. Good to kno-YIKES! He throws himself backwards to the pavement, the chakram buzzing the air where he used to be (he really needs to stop having people almost slice him in half with stuff tonight) and lands on his shoulder blades. The instant they touch he bends in half, then whips his lower half back the way he came, kipping straight back up into Ryoshi's way. A wakizashi in one hand and a kama in the other, each stolen from one of the unconcious ninja littering the ground around them. "Lookie there," he quips, "a sword. Poof! Like magic." His balance is perfect, and the two weapons are held in a manner tucked against his body, one over a shoulder, the other against his ribs, both readied. "Don't suppose we can chat about this like grown ups? Less stabbing that way. You have no idea what the dry cleaning bill on this suit is."

"Don't suppose you're gonna let me get away with this hard drive?" Apparently Shiranui knew that the chackram was coming because he flips forward to duck it and brings his sword up in a low guard.

"Nothing against the NYPD, I just don't like getting arrested." Dick can see the mask he's got now. It's a full face hood, black with an orange hexagonal pattern on it. Looks techy. As does the blade he's got which is glowing purple. Also looks techy.

"Think fast, mask." He crouches and jumps and…

There's that chakram again. Might or might not be the same one but it looks to have boomeranged back and is coming right for Dick AGAIN.

"Missed me!" The ninja taunts. "Twice!"

And then he's bolting. He's figuring probably that Dick will be too busy so he takes a leap onto a squad car and then again up onto a second story rooftop.

But Dick… well, isn't that easily slipped, is he? Neither is Ryoshi.

Ryoshi just grunts as she throws the second chakram. This time it's not done with force, the damn thing 'bounces' heading towards that sword that Dick is holding and then ricocheting onto Shiranui. This weapon is extremely well controlled - is it just her raw ability?

Possibly not, that second chakram is returning to her hand and unless Dick moves, it's going to go through him. No, no talking from this smaller of the ninjas.

As the second chakram hits her hand, it transforms into a length of … chain? with hooks on the end. The end is thrown to the guttering above and she swings, pulling herself up to follow the fleeing the Shiranui.

The police? Nightwing? She doesn't care about them as long as they don't get in her way.

Dick Grayson sighs, "Prolly not." he admits before adding, "Well no one likes getting arrested, which is odd. It has the word 'rested' right there in the name. You'd think people would be fans. But no. Always with the resisting." He blinks at the techy gear and his lips quirk slightly, "Oh goodie, the ninja have discovered the twenty-first century. hoooraaaaay." Then there's a chakram trying to make out with him.

He's tired of bending out of the way of these damned things! So he turns ever so slightly, drawing the blade of the sword in line to defend. He grunts under the impact, being caught slightly off guard by it and frowning slightly. Oooookay. He glances at the blade of the sword, which is now bent slightly and well notched, and his brows knit, "Well that's just rude." he says, turning to watch the pair accend. "And not even a how do you do." he drops anther smoke bomb, just to be thurough, and then fires the grapple into the air, letting it latch and then yank him skyward. This is getting out of hand. He flicks the kama out towards Ryoshi almost absently, the throw meant more as distraction then real threat. He lands atop the roof in a three point stance and flicks another wing-ding, this one aimed for the fleeing man's calf, "Okay you two, who wants to tell teacher all about the grown up game of tag we've started before someone gets hurts?" he asks lightly, "Last one to answer gets demerits."

As Shiranui makes the roof he turns and extends his hand again. There's another brief flicker of a barrier just in time to deflect a few shots from the police below before he's out of line of sight. Then it's gone, replaced by one there just long enough to send that chakram spinning away again.

He doesn't expect the wingding though and it catches him pretty squarely. Not enough to cut - he seems to be armored but definitely enough to send him into a tumble which he transitions into a roll and a stand again.

"You're presistent." The man says. And it is a man, one with Dick's general build. Slender. Athletic. Dick gets a good look at the row of lights down the upper third of the man's spine before the woman arrives.

"Is it teacher, though? That one's been naughty. I think she needs detention. All I want is the info on this hard drive. I'll even send it back. You got an address I should post it to?"

As he's talking he makes a gesture and a trio of glowing kunai appear in his hand. He flings them at Dick and Ryoshi's feet where they go off like concussion grenades. Then he's leaping onto another cable again. Surfing it as if daring the other two to follow. As if saying 'I know you don't have the balance to pull this off.'

Ryoshi manages to flip herself to the roof, avoiding any shots from below but just in time for Nightwings Kama to come towards her, making her sway this time to avoid it. It costs her precious seconds but then again, Shiranui is slowed as well. "Get.out.of.my.way." Yes, that's a females voice. Even as low as she pitches it - she can't disguise that about herself. "He is mine. He belongs to The Order."

The woman is obsessed.

There's no response to the taunt this time as she launches forward, only to be knocked back by the concussive force of the kunai. It's her turn to tumble and rise. And take off at run, stepping onto that cable without a second thought.

Oh doesn't she?

Nightwing nods, "It's a character flaw." he admits freely. "I don't know, from where I'm sitting neither of you has been a particularly good ninja. Cyborg. Nin-Borg? Cy-Ja?" The grenade kunai thingie explodes, and the lenses in Dick's mask save his eyes from the flash, though the preasure wave rocks him back on his heels slightly and causes him to grimace. "Alright then. Being polite clearly not working." he mutters to himself, "You're in my town lady," his tone has changed slightly, "and you're hurting my people. No one's going anywhere without some explinations." and then they're on the wire.

An actual wire.

Dick just stares, shakes his head, "You guys are so screwed." and he leaps out into thin air, arms out stretched. He grips the wire as he falls past, and pulls his lower body upward hard, causing the entire length of cable to buck suddenly, jerking it not just downward, but also slightly to the side. He of course, releases on the arc and sails through the air with an almost preternatual grace.

When the wire gets shaken Shiranui falls. Of course. Apparently he is at least substantially human and he isn't glued to the damn thing. As he does fall though his blade sweeps out and cuts it and he grabs the end that's anchored to where he's going. That swings him into the wall - oof - rather than onto the next rooftop like he'd been hoping for.

"What is a good ninja, Mask?" The possibly not good ninja says while hanging. "Would you know one if you saw one? Also, while we're on the subject, what is the sound of one hand clapping?"

Getting his feet onto the wall and stowing the blade, Shiranui climbs. Dick had to make a lateral leap for that so he's hoping he's still going to be ahead of him.

"If you seek explanations, perhaps you should ask why the Hand and the Celestial Order of Si-Fan would risk confrontations in the open streets. Wisdom begins with questions, after all."

Oh this guy's a regular fortune cookie. Once on the rooftop though he starts to move again, this time in the direction Dick sailed off, in, oddly. Paralleling the man's course before coming to a wide gap and making a leap. He has to be aiming for the fire escape on the next building. There's no way he can make the roof. He'll fall too far before he does.

"Besides, who are your people? The Police? I didn't know they were so fond of vigilantes."

As to belonging to the order? No, he's not commenting on that.

Ryoshi swears roundly as the cable shakes, she falls too but she got that chain. It snakes out, the end guided by mind to find purchase on the roof, her mind tracking the other two as she adjusts her own swing. "You talk too much." She grunts again, having to use her ability to propel her. "And you, Mask, are a nuisance. I only hurt those who stood in my way. Next time they'll know to leave me alone."

And if they don't, she's sure she can deal with them.

Can she get enough air from the swing to propel her to that landing point? She's certain she can.

Nightwing carries on with the arc flawlessly and lands with the same grace he flew with, as if all of this was such old hat to him as to be forgettable. "I know a great ninja." he says evenly, "And mostly it's a sort of wooshing noise, not unlike that of a fan or heavy breathing." he says without an ounce of hessitation. "Wisdom might begin with questions, but friendships generally begin with answers. Wanna be friends? I make the /best/ guacamole."

The grapple once more makes an appearance, and while the Cy-Ja (Nin-Borg?) can make it in a single leap, Dick opts for the assist, covering the distance and not trusting to a Nin-Borg's base strength levels being human. After all, he knows a Cyborg too. "The NYPD doesn't learn that lesson well, and as they outnumber you roughtly fouty-thousand to one, I wouldn't count on your odds holding up. And that's not even counting the ninjas and cyborgs and aliens and mutants and crazy people in skin tight clothing and devistatingly perfect smiles who'll try to stop you on their own. Seriously guys. My guac is /epic/. We sure there's no room for less punch-a-punch and more tete-a-tete?"

Shiranui glances behind him as his arc caries him forward and down and… that's an odd tilt to his head when he sees the other two are in the air.

There's a very brief flash. A puff of purple energy from his boots as he hits something with his feet midair and kicks off it for a leap that carries him in an upward arc thirty yards back and to the right. Then a second impossible midair leap off of nothing brings him up onto the rooftop of the building kitty corner to the one he had been aiming at.

Once he's there he pauses to sheath his sword.

"I kind of like guac. Can't speak for the angry one there. What do you say Ryoshi. Shall we take a break for chips and guac?" There's another short pause. "Spoiler alert, Mask, I don't think you're gonna convince her on that one."

Ryoshi would fight them all when she's like this. Later she'll have a terrible headache and be regretting her choices - but now? She's not able to. She somersaults, landing on the firestairs as a the cable returns to her and hooks to the roof above. She's not stopping - climbing again, assisting that as she does. She'll make the roof in a thrice, but she doubts she'll catch him.

Not this time.

The remaining Chakram arcs out as she tosses it at him, trying to collect with Shiranui's ankles and trip him up - at the at least.

"I don't like guac." Is all she manages, nearly totally ignoring Nightwing unless he manages to grab her. Shiranui's right. She's not going to be convinced.

Dick Grayson snorts, "Everyone likes guac." he says as he too takes chase, looking none the worse for wear. Seriously. For a guy without glowy light-bright bits attached, he's freakishly unwilling to stop. He comes up to Ryoshi and opts to deal with her first, his hands darting out in a complicated grapple meant to send her into a hard throw straight against the roof of the building. It's not the throws you see in the movies where people land and roll. It's meant to hurt. Bruise, knock the wind out of someone. Maybe break some bones if you really wanted to make a point of it. Which Nightwing does /not/. "I also do a very nice french onion dip." he says as he twists the hip for the throw.

Shiranui extends a hand and dances back. He doesn't quite catch the Chackram with whatever barrier he is using to parry but he manages to get the edge of the building between him and it. Hopefully it'll stick. There's a slight noise from the direction he came and he can see figures moving. Four of them. Those would be the ninja he was fighting and Nightwing as well. Only four and not twelve. Seems like their tangle with the police cost them.

Well, the police and Nightwing. They'll be here in a moment.

As the masked hero slams into the woman there's a whine of electric motors from the street and the tech ninja of the impossible leaps steps off the building and drops down toward it.

If anyone looks, a sleek, futuristic looking motorcycle has literally just driven itself up into the alley.

The chakram ricochets off the barrier, into the wall. It sticks. It sticks well - embedded deep. Ryoshi grunts again as she tugs on it mentally, willing the damn thing to return to her. It budges a little and she might have been able to recover it, in time - except she finds herself on her back winded and very, very bruised.

Was that a rib she heard crack? She doesn't want to think on that. For her all acrobatic expertise, she's still very, very human.

She growls at Nightwing as she tries rise again.

"Don't like dip either…" She shouldn't be able to get up from that throw. She might not be able to, but while Shiranui is using his abilities, she's not able to not try.

Dick Grayson stands to one side of her, eyeing the downed ninja lady, "Okay. Now you're just being obtuse. Fine. Big guns. I /also/ make pretty decent Korean BBQ, but that's more of like a date night thing and I gotta say, would feel a bit weird offering it to some Nin-Borg who's tried to kill me twice in one night. Usually I don't start dating someone until after they've done the attempted murder thing a half dozen times. Fella has to have his standards."

Then he heads for the alleyway, to where the bike and it's passanger are just starting to meet up, "You know what would be awesome right now?" he says to no one, "A Batmobile. That's what. Ooo. Or a Batwing. Always liked the Batwing. Sent a message." He pulls his last wing-ding free of his belt and frowns, "Always on the days I don't kit all the way up." he mutters as he holds the weapon up and slips a small strip onto it's underside from his belt. Then, cocks his arm, judges the distance, wind speed, eyes narrow…. and throws. Hard enough he grunts as it whips from his fingers and whistles towards the far far away Cy-Ja and his fancy bike. At this point, he'll be lucky to hit, luckily, he only has to /hit/ the bike. Anywhere will do.

There's a click, only faintly audible as the tracking devices latches onto the back wheel frame. The man on the bike gives Nightwing and Ryoshi a two fingered salute and then hits the power. That thing takes off like a shot. Huge torque at the low end, absolutely no sound. It just zooms out and vanishes onto the street.

Leaving just Dick and a really angry lady ninja. Who MIGHT want his Korean BBQ.

As Shiranui races off and stops using his abilities, Ryoshi lets out a shuddering breath as she drags herself to her feet. "Normally I required dinner and flowers before someone puts in that position." She grates out to Nightwing. "And you talk too much. You should try talking to less. I like Korean BBQ though."

With that, the Chakram comes spinning back to her hand and she moves off, much more slowly than she started but still fast enough.

"You're not my type though."

By the time he looks, she should be gone from sight. Thinking she's got away, scot free.

Dick Grayson scoffs, "I talk the exact right amount." he says without turning around, pretending to watch the bike race off into the distance, a look of disappointment on his features. "Bit of a long shot anyway." he mutters, sounding just a bit dejected. Best to sell it well. "Liar." he quips, "I'm everyone's type." he turns to grin at her, but she's 'gone'. He just grins wider.

He pauses on the rooftop and eyes the sword wound in his shoulder, flesh wound, and then checks his gear…. he's gonna need more wing-dings. Sigh. He goes through those things so fast. Oh. Shit. Gibbs. He facepalms audibly and turns to begin sprinting back the way he came, hoping against hope he can gather up enough of his clothes his partner won't ask. In the mean time…. he uses his phone to tick the app that logs the locations of both Nin-Borg, tracking not only where they end up, but the paths they took to get there. Somehow he just /knows/ he hasn't seen the last of them.

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