Summary:Enter the Cyberian - vile bloodsports a specialty. Ravager, Punisher and Deadpool doth not approve! Log Info:Storyteller: avery-aaronson |
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There's many many people here tonight, each for their own reasons, most of them for the thrill and excitement of watching brutality in its most distilled and refined form. Violence perfected. The stink is oppressive, full of the scent of fear and blood and rotting garbage - human and otherwise.
Frank was approached by a neighbor of his, Mrs. Emily Sharpe. Hands wringing together she asked him, almost begged, to find her son, Steven. She knew he was into some questionable things, but he always came home! He's been missing for two days now, last seen in the vicinity of one of the less savory neighborhoods near the disaster zone. She provided a few names, and a pic on her phone of the kid.
Deadpool isn't here for any particular reason, he just found a flier, and a free pass. Bonus! The the directions are a little weird…and the map on the flier sends him to one of the less savory neighborhoods near the disaster zone.
Steven Sharpe. Frank doesn't know the kid, but has seen him around. Not the model citizen, but he seems like a decent kid. Mrs. Sharpe he's seen a few times and had a couple of friendly-enough chats with as he was coming and going from his place. She's good people. Puts up with a kid who gets into trouble and tries to do right by him. So when she approached him to look for her son, he agreed. If not for Steven, for him mother.
Sometimes a name or two is all a man needs to track someone down. In this case, Frank was able to get some information that led him to the disaster zone and some underground fighting thing. "The hell you get yourself into, kid?" he mutters to himself as he enters the tunnel.
The Punisher moves amongst the people like some foreboding malevolent force. Shoulders turn, people twist out of the way, just perhaps all part of the vibe that is projected by one with such weight of presence as the man who inflicts such pain upon the criminal underworld. It's a thing akin to gravitas and the man just exudes it.
Yet the figure in red and black that follows him and is carrying a festive red and white popcorn container is perhaps the opposite of that. For while the Punisher is all quiet and control and focus… Deadpool is not that at all.
"So how long you got to find this guy?" Popcorn crunches underneath the mask.
"You think he'll be here? He might be here, you never know."
"He's probably dead though, this part of town, this time of night. Totally dead." More popcorn crunching.
Yes, sometimes being the Punisher is a good thing, at the gate Castle was just able to walk by, the bouncer just looking at the cashier and shaking his head, nope, not happening.
Into the fairly large place, the effluvium of wasted lives and shattered hopes almost a live thing in its own right. As they approach, a mostly naked and very attractive girl walks to the center of the battle cage, she's not inside it, however, she's on top. Dressed, albeit slightly, in essentially a bikini and six inch stillettos the buxom ginger holds up a hand and a mic is lowered to it.
"Ladies, gentlemen, and the rest of you…WELCOME to Cyberian's!" She pauses as people roar approval. All around that battle cage there's frantic activity as last minute wagers and at least two fist fights break out. "First up - just to get your blood pumping, RAZORDOGS!
With a dramatic flourish she grips the cable, and is hoisted to safety as two HUGE dogs, mastiffs probably, are rolled to the cage in smaller ones. The animals are BRUTES, and they have all sorts of metal implants, extra fangs, extra claws, spikes all over…and their collars are massive, and flashing with lights. The cages attach to the bigger one, there's a moment of tense anticipation, and then the inner doors lift and the dogs LEAP into frenzied activity, ripping and shredding in a horror of blood and animal fury.
Rose had been approached by — of all things an animal rights group with leads on a dogfighting ring…possibly with human victims. The fee was good, and the intel pointed her to…one of the less savory neighborhoods near the disaster zone.
Who wouldn't spot Deadpool in a crowd? Rose had worked with him twice now, and knew at least some of the quirks of the lethal mercenary. She also was well aware of Frank Castle - and, well, spying one she spies the other, memory clicking in with the data.
The platinum blonde with the ponytail and face mask that left her mouth free moves over to where the two men are.
"Didn't realize it was a party, or I would've baked a cake," she says, the sarcasm hard to miss from her tone.
"Don't tell me we all got the same client?" A pause, as the 'Razordogs' are announced. Her good eye narrows, and she looks to observe, her mouth set in a thin line.
As Frank makes his way through the gate and is ushered inside, he simply offers the bouncer a nod and an intense stare. He doesn't know what the hell is going on in here but that look suggests that the bouncer had better steer anyone else clear of this place who don't deserve to get caught up in whatever shit is going down. And then there's Deadpool tagging along. Maybe the glare was an attempt to get the bouncer to keep the masked mercenary out of here.
Wade's constant banter is largely ignored as Frank trudges heavily down the corridor towards the cage, until Deadpool points out that the kid is almost certainly dead already. Coming to a halt with a sigh, Frank turns his body to half-face Wade with a hardened expression on his face, "Jesus Fucking Christ." His head tilts from one side to the other as he looks at the merc as if he's expecting some kind of remorse.
His mouth opens to continue when the.. the /razordogs/ are announced? He turns back to see the beasts unleashed upon one another and starts heading further inside once more. His coat conceals his skull vest and a couple of pistols, but nothing else. He's starting to wish he'd brought something with a lot more ammunition.
To the spectacle, Wade is mostly inured, seemingly content to follow along in Frank's wake and allow him to take the brunt of whatever social capital must be exchanged to get them further into this task. Whatever that task actually is. Though, to be fair, he does lose a step or two for the ginger girl up on the cage…
Only for his attention to be stolen back by Rose's appearance. "Oh hey, Client. I knew I was forgetting something." He casually retrieves the flier he'd gotten from his belt and flips it towards her, probably expecting her to catch it. "I saw this, and then I saw that." He points at Punisher.
"And now I'm… here." As if it was all part of someone's greater plan for the greater good. But weirdly enough once the dogs are released and they start attacking in that arena he suddenly breaks off.
"Franklin. Rosella. If you'll excuse me."
The 'Razordogs' appear to be immune to the pain they inflict on each other, mostly…every attack lands, blood sprays and the animals whine, but that only seems to goad them to greater levels of violence, only sharpens their frenzied attacks. The fight doesn't last very long — one of the dogs puts out the others eye, and when it flinches…a slash of steely spikes shreds the other dog's throat, the collar going dead as the animal is flung into the wall of the cage, and one of the nearby patrons is spattered with its blood. And the guy /laughs/, eyes alight with sick fascination.
Deadpool seems to be focused on an area off to one side, one of the 'pit' areas where animals and their…handlers? Torturers? Are.
The nearly starkers ginger has a lovely view of the arena, and she can't help but spot the trio, well, duo now that Wade's split off. She leans to the side almost like one of the performers with Cirque du Soleil, and her cable flows towards them. A couple yards shy she drops about twenty feet, landing and going to one knee a moment, before straightening. Yeah, she's probably not strictly normal! A stunning smile. "Why…if it isn't The Ravager, /and/ The Punisher, we're honored. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I was bored," manages Rose, dryly. She doesn't look at Frank, instead, she's watching the ginger in charge of this entire affair. "Figured since I was out of ice cream, I'd come here and kick your ass." But, she's already noted the athleticism of this particular lady, the manner in which she utilized the cable.
She guesses the direction Deadpool has headed, and comments to Frank, casually, "I'm just going to blame all the blood on you. I'm supposed to be keeping a clean slate, now, or something." And with that, her hand flickers and a throwing knife launches itself straight for the woman, while her other hand draws an energy katana out, the blade lighting up furiously.
Walking his way around the cage, wading through the crowd as if it doesn't exist, Frank manages to pull his attention away from the chaos in the cage so he can start looking around for Steven. The chit chat from Rose and Deadpool is just background noise, but at least there's a couple of people he's familiar with in case things go south.
As the redheaded woman lowers herself directly in front of him and Rose, Frank stops and stuffs his hands into his coat pockets. His eyes lock onto the woman's and overall his expression suggests he's not overly impressed. Rose's comment about being out of ice cream and coming down here to kick her ass draws a sharp exhale from the man's nostrils. But when she blames the bloodshed on him and then launches into action, he turns his head to look at the young lady, "The hell?" He sidesteps away a few paces and drops to one knee, pulling his hands out of his pockets along with a large-calibre pistol. He levels it towards the ginger woman but his finger isn't on the trigger for now. He looks from the MC to Rose, then across the crowd in their immediate vicinity to check for anyone who might want to draw any sort of weapons and get involved.
Entirely unmindful of what is befalling his compatriots, the Merc with the Mouth strolls through the crowd, and murmuring at each accidental collision, "Excuse me. Coming through. One side, Canadian Special Forces."
"Hey fellas," Deadpool had slipped partially into the crowd, but then reappeared with his arms on the divider that separates the handlers from the general public. Likely they're used to having people and things hurled at them, perhaps even abuse. "That's some impressive technology you got there, how the bloody blue heck does it work?"
He leans forwards over the divider as if trying to get a closer look, then shifts his attention back to the men, the eyelets in his mask widening. "Looks super high tech."
And then violence explodes nearby. Yay!
"Bored. Ice Cream." The Ginger's smile is utterly intact, perfect teeth, perfectly symmetrical features, and a body that many would (and probably have!) kill for. And then the dagger is thrown, as Rose ignites her sword. She actually laughs when Frank expresses his displeasure. And then the thrown dagger strikes…the Cyberian just looks down at the blade buried to the crosspiece between her sizable charms, and then looks up at Rose. "Well, it seems that a nice friendly chat is out of the question." Her blood isn't red…in fact it seems more like oil, a dull brown-black that oozes.
And then the Cyberian's eyes got solid black, and she moves at preternatural speed, attempting to get into a clinch with Rose, her main focus seems to be on immobilizing the other woman's sword arm.
It is fortunate that Frank is looking for trouble - two groups of goons, all in tac armor and carrying both extending batons, knives, and machine pistols close in from two sides!
The Handlers? They look up, and one elbows a buddy. "Isn't that Deadpool?" The elbowed guy turns, and nods. "Yeah, I think it is." The supervisor closes his girlie magazine, and then looks up. "Mmm? Yeah, pretty high tech stuff…nerve induction, feedback loops, real techie stuff. So what's your deal?" OF COURSE the guy in charge is an idiot! The other two? They're sort of…you know…drifing nonchalantly away.
"Good," says Rose, mildly as her dagger sinks into not flesh, but metal. It's then she actually smiles. She can't outmanuever the speed the other woman moves at, and so her singular sword arm is grabbed. But then, Rose always prided herself on thinking ahead of MOST of her opponents.
Rose's free hand, the one that had flung the dagger ignites her second energy katana, and the once-mercenary, now somewhat hero, somewhat not, slices through the air with the second now-lit hilt, in an effort and means to slash right through the woman's arm, even as her knee comes up to create some distance between the two and free herself.
As things turn up a bit, Frank goes into auto-pilot. The years of training take over and his senses form a complete picture of the surroundings. He watches as the dagger connects with its target with little to no effect.
His attention is drawn away as he spots the two groups of men starting to approach with their weapons of choice. He takes a single moment to mark their locations and then he's up. Quickly rising to his feet, Frank levels his pistol at the group to his right and quickly squeezes off a volley of bullets, each one aimed at the forehead of each man in the group before he turns and squeezes off another few rounds towards the group on the left. "Wade!" he roars as he drops the magazine from his pistol and reaches to his waist to grab another one and stuff it into his weapon. He backsteps, swiveling his torso from one side to the other. He quickly scans the area for cover while keeping an eye on Rose and the woman she's engaged with to see if he can get a quick and well-placed shot on her.
"Hey hey, not so fast there, Michael Vick," That's when the pistol appears over the divider between them, Deadpool holding it non-chalantly and gesturing with it towards the two men trying to scarper. "I am the veritable Dora the Explora of the mercenary world. I like to have my questions answered. I'm all inquisitive and shit, Caillou's got nothing on me."
There's a pause as he says nothing more then adds, seemingly non-sequitir after something occurs to him. "Man in the yellow hat."
Then he points the gun at the main tech guy, no trigger discipline at all, Frank would be disappointed. "So do you anesthetize the dogs before all the surgery or do you just save that step?"
Behind him the fight has really kicked off, but Wade… he's just happy to be shooting the breeze. And maybe eventually these guys. He shouts over his shoulder, "I'm BUSY!" But then gunfire erupts and he scowls, "Oh bother."
And fires three quick rounds into the heads of those handlers, causing blood spatters to paint the prep area. Wade drops down in that instant and shouts back, "I'm COMING!" Though he offers a small 'heh' after that last word.
