Summary:Captain Cold is hired to retrieve something from a SHIELD transport. It gets chilly and doesn't go to plan Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Lena Smart, aka Captain Cold, has a bit of reputation in the underworld. If you want something … retrieved … she's one of the ones you go to. Which is why the icy woman has been asked to … collect … some material from a SHIELD transport that's moving between the Triskelian and Brooklyn, just this side of the Staten Island bridge.
Whatever is in the Transport, it's got a couple of high powered people accompanying it. Along with SHIELD agent and scientist, Jemma Simmons.
Lena has been able to identify the transport and can easily follow it. Particularly as it turns down a relatively quiet side street. It's possible though, she's not the only one interested whatever this vehicle is carrying.
SHIELD was a big fish - bigger than her normal catch anyway. Tonight, of all nights, she is sans one Mick Rory. Maybe that idea of a group wasn't such a bad one after all. Even so, it was a job and Snart may have been many things, but she never broke her word. She was a girl of study, tracing out routes, counting down minutes, passages, when something was suppose to hit where; she was a planner. Given there was no fire to her chill, it was time to try some new tech tonight. Faulty? Probably. Dangerous? Absolutely. For science.
A jog around a small aisle between buildings, the girl in a dark blue parka and black attire jogs on chunky soled boots. A gun at her thigh, a different one against the other, she eyes around the corner through the cast off of silver visors. Exhaling through dark painted lips, she holds to a glass like globe with some type of metallic azure fluid swirling inside. A press of a button, she tosses two down the vehicle's path. A roll, a crack, a shatter, the air turns to mist as frost and flowers out and jagged ice starts to form instantly.
|ROLL| Lena Snart +rolls 1d10 for: 7
While she's only high powered compared to mere mortals, and Stilt-Man, Tigra certainly is powered and is riding along as extra muscle for the occassion. Whatever the cargo is, she's fine not knowing. As she relaxes in the back of the transport, she reflects on how the phrase "ignorance is bliss" really is only meaningful when one loses that ignorance. She grins a bit to herself, mentally saying "something something blue pill something." She might notice the change in temperature before the transport reaches it, but almost certainly not soon enough to realize it's a threat.
"I am powerful mutant. I am cosmonaut. And now, I am SHIELD security guard." Mikhail grumbles though having Jemma along eases some of the sting. She's far from a rookie agent but was tasked with the job too so it must be at least fairly important even if it doesn't feel like it. He's not sure what the cat woman can do but… cat woman. Seems obvious.
It's entirely possible that Mikhail was sent to babysit the trouble magnet Scientist. Jemma would be highly amused to know that he thinks so highly of her abilities, though. "The cargo is rather important, Agent Rasputin. We've had people trying to access the information in my head and my systems and now they're targetting other agents." She says placatingly. The cybernetic implants are obvious for everyone to see. Left eye and right arm completely replaced and an implant that extends from her right cheekbone towards her ear.
"What the …." Agent Fredericks, the driver of the vehicle says as the vehicle swerves and skids over those jagged peaks of ice. Seven metres of ice it travels over, seven metres and a lifetime of struggling against the wheel against a tire is shredded. Fortunately Fredericks has been to the Coulson school of defensive driving and manages to keep the vehicle upright and somewhat straight.
Jemma shakes her head, trying to loosen to the seat restraint that hit the inertia roll. "What on earth just happened? Did you hit an oil slick or something?"
"No, Agent Simmons. That was ice … ice that just seemed to appeared. We might have problem."
Well, that was unexpected. Beautiful, but needed some fine tuning to be sure. It was good in a number of ways, however. It showed the Ice Queen that her replications and formula were working! She watches the truck dance and glides across the ice, one tire down is a good start. She counts the faces she can see, but the truck no doubt had other surprises inside. Back against the wall, breathing slow and steady, she waits.
Tigra's fur ripples lightly at the first wave of cold, and she starts to sit up a bit, puzzled by it, and then the vehicle's dancing like, well, like something that doesn't dance very well but that weighs a lot. She braces herself but fortunately it doesn't overturn. "Yeah, it's just a -bit- early for icy roads in New York," she says, agreeing that they have a problem..
Mikhail Rasputin braces himself as the transport slides and rocks. "Ice. Just appeared." Don't think there's any 'might' about it. Standing, he looks to Jemma. "What is protocol? Remain inside and defend or go out and meet trouble direct?" After a moment, he adds "Can not melt ice from within."
"Protocol is to remain in the vehicle." Fredericks answers as the second tire shreds as it hits another peak of ice. "We aren't going anywhere though …" He looks at the others as he calls the problem in.
That should be it, right? Lena pressed against the wall, waiting and watching, the SHIELD agents remaining safe encompassed in the metal frame.
At that point three darkly clad people appear, surrounding the vehicle and yanking Jemma's door open. "Come with us …" It's *not* an invitation they're issuing to the biochem as they grasp her arm and roughly try to pull her out.
Staying in the vehicle is no longer an option, it seems.
Lena Snart should have know better. She knew where she was and there were always creeps in black skulking around this place. In truth, it was both personally and professionally annoying. The girl's teeth grit as she shakes her head, her gloved fingers reaching for the prototype gun on her left thigh. For now, Jadis would wait in the wings. A step out and across the ice, without fear, hesitation, or even reaction to the chill, the girl smirks and lifts the mercury-white weapon, the same substance as the grenades sloshing about inside. A wisp of breath escapes her lips as she smiles.
"Ho, hold on there, tall, dark and annoying. This is my score and you can kindly get your own. We can do this three ways. I freeze you and shatter you like glass. I slow you down and let these fine folks grime you up with government and paper work. Or….you run like hell. Either way, should be fun."
Tigra's tail start to twitch and flick at hearing they're supposed to stay in the vehicle. Yeah, that might be prudent, but, well, a cat only wants to be in a box when she wants to be in a box. This isn't one of those times. And then the door is snatched open and someone's grabbing for the boffin. Protocol now calls for a face full of fiercely fighting and fairly flying feline, and she obliges with a snarl, leaping across the vehicle, launching herself with a foot on Jemma's seat, and a hand shoving the woman's shoulder, partly for more oomph, and partly to shove her back into the transport, her other hand lashing for the mook's face.
Who didn't lock the door? "Where we go?" Mikhail asks, holding his hands out to the side. See? He's unarmed. No guns, no threat, right? But some voice from outside threatens to turn them to ice and the cat woman leaps over them and attacks so that kind of narrows down all options to one: blasting them with concussive energy from his hands.
Jemma didn't, clearly. Or maybe she did and they just yanked it open anyway - hard to tell with the speed things are happening now.
"What the hell…." the mook takes Tigra's punch full in the face, sending him stumbling backwards but they come back swinging - slightly bemused by the catwoman and her ferosity.
Jemma grunts as her arm is wrenched - and she's shoved back into the transport.
The third dark clad figure turns towards to Lena, raising a weapon that looks far from convential. She, the dark clad figure, gets one shot off in Captain Colds direction - a sonic weapon - perhaps good that it's not well aimed.
Mikhails concussive blast takes the second black clad figure full on, knocking them back into the brickwork of the building behind, and clipping the third sending her stumbling.
|ROLL| Lena Snart +rolls 1d6 for: 6
Lena Snart feels that rippling sensation across her body and armor. She shivers against it, her body folding back as it just feels…wrong. Her grip tightens on her own weapon and in sudden fear, she looks down at the casing. The liquid dances from the sound but thankfully nothing seems damaged. There's something happening in the truck now, so there were more inside. With a twitch of her nose, she levels the gun and presses the trigger. A sweep of pure ice rolls out, affecting the space around them - the air chills, growing thick and claiming any moisture in the air, turning it to snow and frost. Cold starts walking forward, applying more pressure in hopes of turning that dark clad figure to solid ice. Just as promised.
Tigra got Jemma out of the mook's grasp, got herself outside, and got some room to maneuver. She sees the thug was able to take her punch, and she offers him a toothy smile, deciding to hold back less, trying to land a super fast one-two punch to the gut before flipping back out of reach again, not knowing anything about him, but not wanting him to connect. The sound of the sonic weapon drawls a snarl of displeasure. She doesn't do well with sonics.
"You surrender, da?" Mikhail asks. "Things go easy for you. Or you run. We do not chase. Maybe. You stay? You get hurt bad. Beaten, clawed, frozen. Not good." Some kind of cold seems to be trying to envelop one but he's not really inclined to intervene.
Tigra is quick and pops the guy in the kisser twice, her flip taking her out of his flailing reach. He moves forward, the fear on his face evident - the scent probably obvious to Tigra as well. After all, one of his compatriots is now … iced.
Tigra will see a patch or something on her attackers shirt. Maybe she can tear that free for later.
The black clad figure that Mikhail hit, tries to scramble away, not responding to the Russian verbally. But he'll get the message. Not surrender, she's running.
Lena's target becomes an ice sculpture - maybe they should just …. let it go.
That leaves, Mikhail to face Lena as Tigra finishes off her guy. Fredericks and Jemma are still in the vehicle.
Lena Snart grins and stalks forward, her eyes crossing up toward the driver behind the protection of her visor. There's a pride there even if not seen, the girl reacting to her weapon with a bite of her lower lip. That type of power is a bit attractive. Exciting. Then, she notices the Russian and levels the weapon once more. "Evening." She greets smoothly, her tone apathetic. "You and yours out of the can. I came for one thing and one thing only. I get it, I leave and rest of you don't end up like sonic over here." With a lift of her foot, she crashes it against the leg of the attacker, shattering the limb completely and easily, sending the rest of it toppling over.
Oh yes, Tigra catches the smell, and once again she gives him a toothy smile, the chill air helping to give her teeth a hint of a sparkle. She'll readily grab at the patch, yanking it from the mook, and then try to grapple with him, hoping to capture him now that they have the have the upper hand…at least until she hears the sound of a new threat, and realizes the ice came from a third party. Change of plans! Now that she's got a grip on Patchless, she hefts him up and hurls him in Lena's direction.
Their mission is to guard the cargo so Mikhail's not going to go chasing down some minor thugs whose eyes were bigger than their talent. "Spasibo." he says to Lena. "Interesting weapon." He looks at the frozen thug and then the ice on the ground and the punctured tires. "For help, we don't chase you when you leave. You stay…" Absorbing the energy around him, from the light to the cosmic background radiation, he starts radiating heat fast enough and hot enough the air shimmers around him. "Dosvedanya, tovarisch."
Ouch. That's a bit … ruthless. Jemma winces inside the vehicle glancing at Mikhail when she's told get out. Jeriah might be so pleased that for once the biochem is playing it safe. Fredericks on the other hand, opens his door and slowly slides from the drivers seat, palming his ICER as he does. All he needs is a distraction - which come as Patchless comes flying at Captain Cold.
That leaves Tigra opponentless and on the other side of the vehicle - can she get the drop on the icy woman over there?
Mikhails energy starts to melt the ice, leaving small puddles of water in patches across the ground. There's a sense of anticipation as the environment seems to hold its breath.
"You don't chase? Where's the fun in that…" Before another word can leave her lips, a body comes flying in her direction. A slide back on her boots across what ice is left, she lifts the gun and shoots at the figure coming her way. Frozen in an instant as the other before him, she side steps and allows the body to shatter behind her, the sound crystline and melodic.
Alas, poor mook. On the one hand, would have been nice to question him, or try to at least. On the other hand, the distraction hopefully gives Tigra a chance to the flank, further out of the way of Mikhail, and presenting Lena with something of a 7/10 split. She crouches down, fingers flexing, flashing her claws and giving a soft snarl. She keeps an ear cocked, hoping to hear SHIELD reinforcements on the way.
"You are outnumbered." Mikhail points out. If he seems disturbed by the shattering death of the thug, he doesn't show it any more than he did when the other one lost a leg. "You not win, maybe captured. Spend years in prison. No profit. You go. Now." Last warning, emphasized by the flames flickering above his palms.
Jemma winces again as the next frozen body shatters, ice shards scattering over the hood of the vehicle. There's the sound of vehicles turning the corner back there - that has to be the reinforcements doesn't it.
Fredericks looks to Mikhail and then to Tigra. All they need is a break to get things co-ordinated.
Will Lena take valour over virtue? Or will she try to take the clearly powered people down?
Ah, the dreaded 'P' word. In a instant, it seems to strikes the girl with some sliver of fear. Now it was a horrid conflict of interests playing out before her. The heat, the beast woman, the pieces of dark cloaked goons chunked across the melting passage. A sweep of her hand and Cold latches the ice gun back against its holster. In the fluid motion, a different gun pops up, dark in hue and glowing with blue light within its triangular barrel. Baring her teeth, she presses the trigger, firing off a brilliant light in the direction of the heroes. Unlike before, this substance doesn't instantly freeze things in its path - it slows it down and creeps with cold on an atomic level. It was gold against speedsters, but what would it do against the likes of SHIELD?
A twitch of the tail as Tigra watches Lena, senses peeled forthere it is! A shift in posture or muscles tips the tigress off, and as the new gun is coming up, she's leaping into motion. She's not a proper speedster, but over shor tdistances, she can keep up with highway speeds, and covering this distance should be doable for her….until it feels like she's hit a field of very cold molasses. "Sunnnovvvvaaabiiiiiiii-"
Cold is merely the absence of heat so isn't an energy in and of itself. Which means Mikhail can't absorb it, hence his fighting it with its opposite. He's not sure what the girl might be swapping it out for but isn't going to take any chances; a Mik shaped portal opens up where he's standing and bit it and he are gone a fraction of a second later. It opened up directly behind Lena and he can't help saying "Wrong choice." right before he aims a blow for her head.
Fredericks raises his ICER only to be slowed as Lena changes weapons and fires. The ICER dart spins out and heads for Captain Cold, ever slowly. Fredericks himself looks slightly comical.
As Jemma, in the back of the vehicle, mouth opening to ask what's going on.
The other SHIELD vehicles - two of them - can be seen turning the corner.
Once the gun goes down, everything goes back to normal. That slow crawl speeding up to something more natural. It's the crash against her head that cause her to take a knee. Her head swims, the smell of ozone and copper flooding her senses as she ray ceases its sweep and allows the space to return to its natural state. A shake of her head and the girl shifts to move, a pivot and gun up and at the ready once more.
"—-tch!" Tigra finishes snarling as the field suddenly dissipates, letting her dash in close to Lena. With Mikhail smacking her one from behind, Tigra goes close in, trying to get a hold of the woman's wrists before she can bring one of those weapons to bear. "Stand down!" she snarls.
The gun starts coming up, right into Mikhail's grasp since he was reaching for it. It's not a firm grip but it doesn't need to be. Once he's in contact with it, he absorbs the energy binding the atoms to each other and it starts disintegrating outward from his touch.
The world was still spinning. This wasn't her usual venue and the tables were still turning. A job was a job and the reasons why were still in her head, even as one wrist goes down, she heards the order to stand down. So far, she doesn't do as she's told. It's not until the Russian reaches out and touches her beloved weapon. It starts to break at its core and a deep pit of loss and rage bubbles up within the tiny thief. "Mother fucker!" She all but roars, pulling up from her spot on the ground and ramming her head against the bridge of the Russian's nose.
Okay, now they're going to get in each other's way, Tigra realizes, not knowing Mikhail. She takes a step back to give him room, then drops to a crouch and kicks out to try to take Lena out at the ankle. Or take her ankle out.
Mikhail staggers back, reaching up to clasp his nose. From behind his hand comes some fervent Russian cursing that would make Baba Yaga blush. Hand to hand was never one of his strong points and he just backs up, hopefully out of range till he can get his bearings.
It's about now the ICER dart finishes it arc, does it find it's mark on Lena or will it miss her with her attack on Mikhail and the others.
This wasn't good. She was down one gun, a crack against her ankles has the girl growling with almost as much fierce anger as the woman who did the attacking. A stumble back and an eye at the truck, it takes but a moment to swallow her pride and live to thief another night. She would have to return to her contact empty-handed, return to Rory with fresh wounds, return home with a ruined Jadis.
With one last ditch effort, she girl drops another sphere of impending frost and ice. The button glows and flashes, a countdown perhaps? And in those seconds, she limps and forces herself into a sprint, attempting to get far away from this mess.
SHe doesn't know what -this- thing does, but suspects that it's nothing good, given everything else. Tigra ignores Lena's inelegant escape and scoops the ball up, cocking her hand back and hurling it in the air. "Pop it!" she says to the Russian who went all Aslan on Jadis.
Pop? That means destroy in this context? With the hand that's not holding his nose, Mikhail blasts the sphere with a beam of concussive energy, if not destroying it at least hopefully getting it higher intot he air.
Jemma slides across the seat as Lena makes her exit. Fredericks takes off after Captain Cold, he won't catch her but he'll get an idea of where she's heading - and there's the city surveillance system they can request footage from.
Captain Cold is now on SHIELDs radar. They've bigger fish to … freeze … at the moment, but this is never good.
Pausing as the ball is sent into the air, the biochem will see to Mikhail in a moment. The other SHIELD vehicles arrive as Lena disappears.
"Anyone hurt?" Agent Matthews asks as he exits one of the vehicles.
All there really is now is the cleanup.
