Summary:Blackbird stumbles over Whitestar blatanty preparing to commit a crime, which leads into a fairly polite conversation on Whitestar's need for revenge and the ramifications of feminine nudity in modern culture. If you can ignore the chaos happening in the background. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
Chinatown. Not exactly the dangerous place it used to be, but like most of New York, it's got its neighborhoods, even within itself. If Helena were wise, she'd be back at the dorms studying. But Helena isn't really old enough to be wise. She's lucky she's got smart and clever to keep her going. Which is why instead of sitting in the dorms studying, she's geared up as Blackbird in the hood, cape, gear, and the mask, features shrouded behind shadows, a holomask, and bright gold contact lenses.
Technically one could say she's patrolling. But the reality of it is that she's doing more…extreme parkour. Running along rooftops at high speed, jumping across gaps between them and letting the glide function of her cape keep her aloft just long enough to reach the next roof. Rolling through landings and springing from one wall to another to climb higher still, just enjoying the rush of it all.
Chinatown, given the age of many buildings, provides a wealth of possibilities for parkour at least, a maze of buildings old and new side by side, many featuring traditional Chinese building facades or designs. Leaping roof to roof is also an excellent way to observe a flying figure descending to alight on top of a building that purports to be some sort of trade warehouse, the night lights gleaming faintly off the slightly scratched up white metal breastplate with a glowing stylized sun in the center the tall woman wearing…ribbons?…has on.
She looks around, then begins making precise steps from the edge of the building to a point about a third of the way across the rooftop.
Well that's new. Catching the flash of white, Helena brings herself to a pause at the edge of a roof, her form half-hidden behind the shape of a golden lion ornament. Security guards tend not to wear white. It's usually either dark colors or safety orange or yellow. Which means…someone else is out there.
Running her thumb along the sensors on the outside of her guantleted index finger, she zooms in on the other rooftop to get a closer look.
Now that you're close enough, you can notice that the building DOES have guards. Dressed as security guards, the bulges under their coats suggest heavier weapons than are normally used. More importantly, there are subtle Chinese characters marked on the building here and there that suggest this building belongs to the Hip Sing Tong, rivals to the Four Brothers gang that's not far from here. Not that Tongs aren't rivals with /someone/.
Now that you mention it, there was that attack months ago at a university in New York by a woman in a breastplate like that, attacking during the new student festival and driven off by several heroes who were present. Though she hasn't been seen since….until now, it appears.
The woman finds the spot she's looking for, then kneels down as her eyes start to glow with a white energy that leaks from the edges, a similar energy building around her right fist.
Superpowers are the worst.
Helena grimaces as things start to get glowy, adjusting the zoom on her lenses as she takes off from her roof top. Maybe this person is the same one who hit the university. Maybe she's some kid who just got bit by a radioactive lightbulb and thinks she can solve all the world's problems. Either way, letting her get into it with building security is not likely to end well.
As she reaches a neighboring building, Helena moves into a low crouch, going through her weaponry and tech in her mind. She's pretty sure she doesn't have anything for glowing. This could be a problem.
What she does have though is a pocket full of smoke pellets. She snaps a few at the other woman's feet, loosing a cloud thick enough to obscure her vision but small enough to pass for normal building venting before she grapples over next to her, reaching for the staff at her back. "I feel like maybe you were about to make a bad decision," she says in a low voice.
The smoke grenades startle the woman as she leaps backwards…a good thirty feet, landing lightly at the edge of the building, her fists coming up in a guard position, eyes shimmering back to a piercing blue. Up close, you can see a smooth gem set in her forehead, pulsing slowly with ripples of white energy. Her skin is dark, though difficult to see with the smoke and shadows, though her hair is long and silvery white, pulled back in a loose topknot ponytail.
Her eyes narrow a bit as she squints through the cloud of smoke, cocking her head slightly. "What difference does a making of bad decisions mean to you?" she responds in a cool alto, guarded but not hostile.
"Gang wars are pretty awful in general, but there's something even worse about a gang war that isn't even started on purpose," Helena answers evenly, almost lightly. The staff is out, but she seems to be leaning against it rather than looking to start anything. There's not much to see of her, really. Dark, flexible armor. Gauntlets. A cloak with a voluminous hood, and a mask that covers the lower part of her face, leaving only those bright gold eyes and what seems like dusky skin visible.
"Unless you were trying to start on,e but you honestly don't look local, so I'm not sure why you would be," she adds, helpful.
The other woman tilts her head. She's tall up close…over six feet, wight slightly odd, exotic features. Barefoot. Up close, the ribbons look like they're…some sort of suit? There look to be some sort of high tech buckles on it hanging loose, broken or crushed. Oversized sleeves…
Actually, it sort of looks like some sort of weird alien straitjacket.
Fingers flex slightly. "Ah. You are a hero…no. Heroine. Heroine is the right word for a female who is heroic." she corrects herself. "So many strange words you make up to describe the same thing." She frowns. "You are not of the ones called Tong, though. They are criminals. You would fight them?"
"I'm actually not a big fan of gendering roles that don't have to be," Helena notes in an almost academic tone. "Besides, English is a really screwed up language and heroine - the word for a female hero - sounds exactly the same as heroin, the drug that these guys like to push. Ironic, right? Actually, no, that's not what ironic means, and if anyone tries to pull that Alanis Morrisette stuff on them, you tell them no."
Talkative one, isn't she? Although it seems as though even her voice is altered somehow, with a low, rasping purr beneath the words.
"Honestly, I'd prefer not to fight them, especially alone, because I'm not suicidal. Gangs are…hard to police. Shockingly. Which may be why the police are not necessarily succeeding either."
The odd woman blinks. "…yes, it's very confusing. And irony is not coincidence. Your philosopher Weird Al said as much." she agrees. "I am not expecting to fight them, however. I am to go into the building after the distraction." She sniffs. "…they have only one who could challenge me. They only have weapons for humans."
Not a surprise, really. Helena knew aliens were a thing. "So who's the one who could challenge you?" she asks, sounding more curious than concerned. Granted, she may just be playing it off, but it doesn't sound like she's extremely concerned about the people inside. More interested in the stranger right here.
"The Duck of Mocking."
Yes, that's what she said. She seems serious too.
"He is the leader here. He is said to cut through things with his fingers very easily." She frowns faintly. "His wife is said to also lead, but she does not have the same ability. She is a warrior, however." From her tone, she doesn't seem particularly threatened by either. "So you will not stop me?" she continue after a moment of thought, still looking slightly wary, but not like she particularly wants to throw a punch.
"There is no way his name is actually Duck of Mocking," Helena responds first. Because that's the important part of this conversation.
At the question of whether or not she's going to stop her though, she takes a minute to think things over. "That depends on a few factors, really," she muses. "Like, just what kind of distraction are we talking about? And what is it you're actually going in there for?"
The woman furrows her silvery brows. "I am fairly sure that is the name I was given." Not that she seems entirely used to parsing English, then again. She pauses at the questions, then says. "They have a large amount of local currency from drugs that were recently sold. I will be taking that currency."
There's a sudden yell from down on the street and a pair of fairly meaty 'thunks', then the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Followed by what sounds like a roar of wind.
"That distraction." the woman says helpfully.
Peering over the side will show both security guards crumpled on the ground with little diamond shaped throwing weapons stuck in their hip and shoulder, respectively, unmoving, though their chests are rising and falling. A woman in a purplish costume with bright magenta hair appears to be the cause of the throwing weapons, as she's drawing a pair out of her belt as she takes aim at the facade of the building around the door. Next to her is what looks like a miniature tornado with a green armored head…a helmet really, vaguely bullet shaped, with a long visor running over the eyes to allow the person inside to see out. From the way he's blurring, he appears to be spinning really quickly as he also advances towards the building.
"Oh, and you brought friends." Helena is beginning to suspect that she may be in over her head here. And rapidly running out of time. "And, out of curiosity, when you have the money, are you planning on maybe using it to pay for a sick kid's chemotherapy or donating it to a womens shelter?" It's a lot to hope for.
The woman tilts her head. "I do not know any sick children." she admits. "Though a shelter for women is…good? I am to give the currency to our employer then he will give me my portion so I may properly upgrade my armor and kill my enemy." Slight grinding of the teeth there! Just a bit. "I do not intend to strike against you, and they are criminals so it is not illegal to rob illegal currency from them." Someone has apparently explained this to her.
The thing is, she's not wrong. "I feel like there are questions you may not have been asking," Helena says slowly, grimacing down at the distraction in progress. "Also, upgrading your armor to kill your enemy seems like a plan that's lacking in…" Art? "Details." It's a little too late to stop whatever misunderstandings might arise between rival gangs from this, but maybe she can at least figure out who's playing these people. "Where exactly does one get jobs like these?"
"She has starbolts, therefore I require similar ranged energy weapons to match her. Only then will I CRUSH the traitor as she deserves!" Faint eye twitch and clenched fists and all! Down below, there's a crash as the building shakes, then some panicked shouting in Chinese and gunshots followed by lot of yelling and carrying on and minor explosions!
The woman tilts her head. "You would wish to serve as a fortune warrior? A man named Batroc offered me the position. He is very interested in matching skills to opportunities, or so he said." The woman frowns. "Though he also would not stop looking at my figure instead of my eyes, which was…disrespectful."
"Yeah," Helena drawls. "That's a thing around here. We're really working on trying to train the menfolk not to immediately equate the ability to see skin with, you know. Sex." Part of her is well aware that this is likely to be taken the wrong way, but part of her doesn't really have a problem with that either.
"So what'd this traitor do to you?" she asks, quirking a brow. "Sound like it must've been pretty bad."
"I do not mind him admiring me, but not when he is recruiting me." she explains. "One should meet the eyes when facing a fellow warrior." She wrinkles her nose. "He was very insistent that he could teach me French when he learned how I absorb languages, also." She cocks her head. "Yes, this seems…strange, is nakedness how humans signal they wish to mate? Or by how little they wear? I have been called many things because I have said no."
She frowns at the memories, then is promptly distracted by the reference to her nemesis. "She betrayed my world's defenses to our enemies…she allowed our world to be conquered and enslaved. For me to be taken and experimented upon like a lab animal!" Her fists clench again. "All because of /her/!" Her eyes flicker, glowing angrily for a moment as little sparks of energy run along her skin. "She is filth. She is troq…nothing. Less than /nothing/!"
Meanwhile, the woman before comes flipping out of the hole in the building as a Chinese woman with a pair of six shooters and a fancy hat charges out after her, plugging away, then dodging as the woman hurls an exploding diamond or two her way. Another man in a traditional Chinese tunic and trousers comes flipping out, as the green tornado whirls after him, before extending fingers tipped with what look like diamond nails and slicing clean through a light post that topples and slams into his opponent, knocking him off course for a moment to crash into a car like an insane top.
"It's a pretty complex historical issue, honestly, and I've tried to explain it before and it didn't really go over," Helena starts to expound on the topic of nudity and sexual mores, only to pause as her other question is answered. Dark brows rise in the shadow of her hood. "Those are admittedly pretty good reasons to consider someone your enemy," she agrees slowly. "Why do you think someone who's in the business of conquering and enslaving worlds would be here?"
"She did not conquer them…she cravenly betrayed her people to the Kree." the woman spits, obviously getting a bit worked up just thinking about it. Definitely heading into 'unbalanced unreasoning hatred for target' levels. "Because I have SEEN her! I have fought her! She is here, and protected…" she growls. "She has deceived heroes here into following her, protecting her, and they keep. Getting. IN. MY. WAY!" she almost snarls a bit, her eyes blazing with white energy for a moment, her hair swirling around her slightly.
"So I will find what I need, and I will /END/ her as my duty requires…as justice requires…as REVENGEANCE REQUIRES!!"
On the bright side, she's been completely distracted from breaking in and robbing the place.
"Okay, let's take a breath," Helena suggests warily, watching the other woman. "Just a tip, but the frothing rage that is literally fiery is one of those things that tells a hero type that things might be about to go poorly. So, you know. Maybe some deep breathing exercises or something. Also, it's either revenge or vengeance, they're two different words."
She shifts her weight to one side, still holding onto that staff, to glance at the fight below. It's seem like keeping her out of the fight was maybe for the best regardless. "Well. I happen to know plenty of hero types. I could look into this person. Maybe see what comes up."
"In this case they will be /BOTH/!" the woman insists, her nostrils flaring slightly before she growls and takes a breath, closing her eyes briefly. Still flushed with anger, but her eyes at least stop glowing. She eyes Blackbird regardless, a bit askance. "…why would you do this? Even the Man of Spiders would not agree my cause was just, though he aided me in other ways." Among others of course, who objected to her throwing large refrigeration units at people full of ice cream.
The fridges, that is. The people were sometimes full of ice cream, but not in the same bulk quantities or surrounded by unforgiving metal.
"Maybe because Earth isn't super prepared for an alien invasion so I like to know what to look out for?" Helena suggests. Also maybe so she can decide how crazy things are. Or because she really likes to collect information in general. That last part's genetic.
"Also because you look like you're capable of large-scale destruction and I'd prefer to limit the collateral damage."
"Oh, you are already are most likely doomed. The Kree have blockaded your system, so there will be no escape. There are already Dire Wraiths walking among you, possessing humans." the woman says, distractedly. "There are few here who could see them, and no neutralizers to banish them. Perhaps if the Space Knights still existed…" She shrugs her shoulders, folding her arms over her full chest as she eyes the shorter heroine now.
"I am. I am not adverse to you luring her to a suitable location to meet her fate. I have no particular wish to shatter more buildings. Perhaps the place you call the Disaster Zone…." she muses, considering.
Then makes a decision. "Very well. Hunt and find the traitor princess, Koriand'r, and bring her to a position you inform me of, and I will end her existence and confine the damage to the area." She hesistates. "Unless she flees. Then I will pursue her and end her existence in the new location, and I cannot guarantee more damage will not occur."
Goddammit, Kori.
Helena nods slowly, her features and reactions well-hidden despite recognizing the name. "You might be surprised," she says slowly. "We humans are stubborn. Anything else you can tell me about this traitor? Where she might be, what she looks like, how she thinks. And of course I'll need a way to get in touch with you," she adds.
Wearing mysterious masks pays off! She doesn't seem to notice any spark of recognition.
The woman frowns. "She is above my height, with long red hair. She may dress in the traditional battle garb of a Tammaranean warrior, in purple, with a short skirt to allow greater kicking ability. She can summon green startbolts and her eyes are green as well. She has masqueraded as what you call a 'co-ed' previously?" She shrugs slightly. "She can fly, leaves a fiery trail behind her and is very strong and durable." She flexes an arm, her bicep bulging fo ra moment. "But not as strong as I."
She pauses to reaches into her armor, then pulls out a slightly scuffed looking cheap phone…a burner basically, then with a look of concentration pokes several buttons until its number appears, which she shows to Helena. "There. You may call me with this."
Yep, that sounds like Kori.
Helena reaches out to take the phone, making a show of looking at the number as though memorizing it even as the various electronics in her suit do their job of noting the number, frequencies, and other useful technicaly information. Passing it back, she nods again. "Anything you can tell me about what happened on your planet would be helpful. But. I wouldn't want to interfere with your job here," she adds, glancing back toward the fight.
The alien woman blinks, then turns to look at the continuing battle out front as a car goes flying past, followed by some sort of gasous explosion. "…y-yes, that should…I should be continuing my task." she says, looking vaguely embarrased as having lost track of the fight. "If you wish, I will tell you more of Koriand'r's crimes after it it complete, however…" she promises, before walking back over to the point she measured out on the roof at first, as her eyes start to glow again.
"Sure, sure," Helena agrees. "Though, you know. Collateral damage. Thing to remember. Probably be easier to convince the hero types to hand over the traitor if they aren't taking you for a villain because there was a lot of collateral damage." Helena is full of useful advice.
"I have my armor now. My damage is more precise." the woman promises, drawing back a hand as she makes a fit, then slams it down.
There's a *WHOOM* as a blast of white energy bursts out from the impact point before the roof craters, the point where she struck shattering and tumbling down into the building below. Luckily those inside are either unconscious or watching the fight out front. Cracks now run across the roof, suggesting the structural integrity is definitely a thing of the past.
The alien warrior straightens up, now standing next to a hole about fifteen feet across, before she floats up then drops down into the building. After a minute or so in which there is some more gunfire and slightly hysterical Chinese shouting, she floats right back up….balancing a pallet of what appears to be dollar bills in shrink wrap on a shoulder fairly effortlessly. Considering it's about a five foot by five foot by five foot cube, that's probably quite a bit of money!
Helena remains on the edge of the roof, bemused. This is all very much a moral gray area. Bad guys getting beaten up, bad guys getting stolen from, no one actually being killed…Objectively, bad, but the bats aren't exactly paladins themselves. By the time the other woman emerges with the cash, Helena is on her way to the less busy side of the rooftop, making her escape. "I'll call you," she calls over, tapping a salute.
The woman nods simply, acknowledging, before a female voice with a pronounced Texan accent calls up. "Whitestar, if y'all are done messin' around up there, we gotta mosey! C'mon Whirlwind, we got what we needed!" A rougher voice with a slightly echoing quality snaps. "QUit bossin' me around Diamondback…"
Whitestar inclines her head slightly to Helena, then flies off, to let Diamondback leap up on the pallet to ride in style while WHirlwind starts to spin into a tornado again, before the trio of villains (?) go flying off towards the Disaster Zone.