2019-12-17 - The Power of Hoots


An attack on a movie house brings out everyones favourite Canadian (no, not Logan) and the power of Hoots.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Tue Dec 17 06:24:34 2019
Location: Queens

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Theme Song



The front of the theater is absolutely demolished and something inside - probably a popcorn machine or possibly the big pile of popcorn that it has spilled - is on fire. Actually, it's definitely the popcorn. Such an awful smell. The weapons fire from outside is masking a great many frightened screams as civilians evacuate out the back of the theater and away from the combat zone the parking lot has just become as quickly as possible.

Jeriah London is pissed. He'd been enjoying a movie - in the company of Agent Simmons - when a group of people had started moving in that his surveillance algorithms identified as AIM agents and… someone else. Someone not in any of the databases he's compromised.

At present London is crouching in the ruins of the lobby by what's left of the front doors. Two of his dogs are hunkered down in the parking lot exchanging weapons fire - as he is - with a dozen or so thugs with energy weapons. Thugs that appear to be wearing some manner of low profile but VERY effective armor.

This is all over the news and the distress call has gone out to SHIELD. Agents (And Contractors) in trouble.

"You really are as bad as me in movies…" Jemma is saying, crouching beside Jeriah with her ICER held in both hands. It had been a good movie, she'd been enjoying it, as well as the company. It had taken her mind off her problems for a while.

She's returning fire, as best she can, as they crouch there.

"Did you get a good look at the other guy?" She's chattering. Like she does when she's worried or frightened. Why wouldn't she be? The cinema became a warzone.

Again, flying is just so much EASIER than trying to use ground vehicles. Especially when there's an incident in progress and the local police officers are trapped in and by their cars. She told them she'd fly ahead, and that's exactly what she's done. It's not like she can miss the action, what with the smoke and weapons fire and STENCH of burning popcorn.


Swooping in from a direction that likely the armored thugs wouldn't expect, she swats one squarely with her mace like a horse rider would swat a ball in a game of polo. And she's not being gentle about it. These idiots are endangering civilians and destroying property. They're going to get what they've asked for.

«Agent Rogers inbound, ETA one minute — does NYPD have cordons set up for civilians?»

It filters across the SHIELD comms even as Steve's on the approach. He was thankfully still at his desk when the call came through and given he's a one-man army unto himself, he's arrived…by himself. His motorcycle ends up tucked an alleyway over and then here he comes, shield readied on his forearm, suited up in his navy-blue and silver stealth-suit.

«Anybody got eyes on the mystery element?» He knows about AIM, but who's the Other Guy? There flies the shield into not one, but three of the armored thugs in a pinball's ricochetting that leaves them sprawling and him reaching to catch the Vibranium disc. Click: back on his arm and he sets his jaw.

And man, does that burnt popcorn smell something awful.

"I had eyes on him but lost him in the smoke. Marking his last location for you." A mark appears on the HUD and tactical systems of the inbound vehicles. Steve will get it through the comms. It's by a burning wreck of what used to a Chevy Tahoe. The dozen or so gunmen are spread out in a crescent. It's a good tactical formation and keeping things hot on Simmons and London. The dogs are the only reason that they haven't been outflanked yet. The whole thing looks like a techy version of a WWII skirmish as Steve approaches it.

And then Shayera swoops out of the sky in glittering golden armor with a glittering golden mace and bops on of the gunners square in the chest. He goes flying. But there's also an unexpected concussive shockwave that buffets the hawk woman. And when the guy lands his chest isn't caved in and a greyish metal chestplate can be seen.

Reverbium armor. Lovely.


"Ohgodno…" Jeriah mutters. But yes. A man in a red and white outfit with a shield that looks REMARKABLY like Captain America's but also red and white with a maple leaf on it, appears on the far end of the parking lot.

"HAVE NO FEAR! CAPTAIN CANADA IS HERE!" And with that he hocks his shield. It's a good throw. Almost Rodgers-like.

Of course when it hits one of the men wearing reverbium armor (which it does)… BOOM!

Jeriah coughs. "Jemma. See if you can get to a better position. I just saw something buzz past one of the cameras on the right. I think it might be our mystery man."

Jemma covers her head as the first explosion goes off. "Tell me they aren't using reverbi——" the sigh she lets out is long and suffering. "Please no. Not him. Why on earth is he still around?"

The Canny Canuk of Courage has arrived. The last time Jemma dealt with him, he tried to rescue her. *Really*.

The guy goes flying quite nicely, but the responding shockwave in return was NOT something Shayera had anticipated. She's sent abruptly in the opposite direction, and it's only years of aerial combat training that keeps her from landing very badly on her wings. It would have at the least broken several major feathers. As it is, it's pissed her off.

"That does it. No more gentle love taps." Clearly, their armor is … unpredictable, but like her own isn't covering their entire bodies. Ignoring the two men throwing shields around like frisbees (one of them pontificating most annoyingly), she charges the nearest armored thug with what to modern ears sounds like an enraged wordless shout, and aims for an immediately crippling blow: the man's hip.

Percussive, the results of the thrown shields, and Steve takes a moment to very blatantly pause and STARE at the arrival of the other maple-leaf'd man.

"Sir, your stance is a compliment, it is, but you need to leave the area now and stay beyond the cordon," he says, voice raised to near-stentorian sternness at the Canny Canuck. "I will remove you from the situation myself if need be."

His voice might also be a bit more growly than usual, what with how the tattoo on his skin is crawling just beneath his divided sense of self-control.

«Let me know when you spot the unknown, agents,» the Captain adds over the comms as he eyes the reactions of the winged woman with the mace. It's all impressive.

At least Steve's shield does return to him. The Canuck's does not but as it turns out he has a trick. Steve can see him toss a hand out as a magnet engages to recall the reverbium disk. He catches it with… some difficulty. He's practiced, clearly, but he doesn't have the fluid second nature handling of the shield that the Cap does.

"My sincerest apologies, Captain. I meant no- LOOK OUT!"

The arrival HAS gotten some attention and several of the remaining gunmen now direct a torrent of weapon's fire at Cap and Cap. Er. America and Canada. Er. Steve and this other guy. It's three for Steve and two for the Canuck and in military fashion they are moving for a flank, trying to get around the shields and get a side shot in at mostly Steve. He's CLEARLY considered the bigger threat here. Which he is.

Shayera's target takes the hit on the hip and there's a crunch of bone and scream as he goes down. The next closest drops his rifle, letting it hang by it's sling, and pulls something that looks a bit like a megaphone. When he triggers it through, a sonic shockwave ripples toward Shay like a pile driver. That… might not be a good thing to take on the wings.

Jemma gets covering fire from Jeriah who responds to the Captain. "Will do. I think I have something moving around toward your flank but I don't have eyes on it yet…"

Zip. Oh wait. Something barrels in straight at Jemma. Something obscured by some kind of vision distorting field but she can suddenly smell the crackle of ozone and see a blurred fist swinging at her as she is intercepted before she can make her new position.


An unexpected force throws Jemma out of the way and a man with white leather pants, green armor and an ENORMOUS hammer stands in her place. He blocks the swing of the mostly invisible operative and then swings his hammer downward. "BY THE POWER OF HOOTS!"

A blast of light and heat knocks the operative clear but he's up again almost before anyone can follow.

"TREMBLE EVILDOERS! I AM ANGUS, LORD OF FIFE AND -ow!" A blast of energy strikes him and he has to put up his hammer to deflect the next one.

"Cap! I've got a fix on him! He's near Simmons' position! He's using some kind of… stealth field."

Cap can get there, sure. But he has to not get shot doing it.

Jemma creeps out from their cover and scuttles across the floor as Jeriah covers her. Her right flicks from red to blue and back again as she scans in the X-Ray and InfraRed spectrums. It's not showing her anything right …. Oh, wait, what's tha——

Thrown clean, Jemma skids across the lobby floor, through piles of burnt popcorn. Some gets caught in her hair as she hits the door frame with a thud. "No kidding Jeriah … and seriously, who wears white after labour day and with that build?"

The man going down with a scream earns him a vicious little smile from Shayera, and then the next thug over is pointing something that looks like a very crude sonic weapon at her. Oh hell no. Again, her Akah Ma'at training comes into play and she throws her armored forearms up to shield her face, her wings flatten against each other straight behind her back, reducing their profile in the face of the sonic weapon as much as possible. That does, though, make them very nice targets for anyone else with any other kind of weapon. But, it's a calculated risk she has to take, because the sonic damage would be severe otherwise.

Oh, and just for good measure, she snarls an exceedingly rude curse at the thug in her native language.

It's knee-jerk, the reaction to bring up the shield against incoming fire, and the gunmen land hits on the spangled disc rather than the Captain initially. Gritting his teeth visibly, Steve calls out towards the Canny Canuck,

"Give me cover!" What that's going to entail is up in the air and resultant of the Canuck's imagination, but Steve takes a moment to toe-kick what appears to be a large spar of metal rebar towards his collection of gunmen and then flick-kicks a lost tire towards the Canuck's grouping for good measure, all in a sweeping turn in place.

Presuming cover, the Captain then reaches for a nearby burnt hull of a small Toyota in the wrong place at the wrong time. This becomes a far more worthy projectile for contact with Reverbium — and there it goes, thrown towards the gunmen as a whole. Surprise!

«I dunno what Lord Fife over there is doing, but if you need to drop him, Agent Simmons, do it through any means necessary,» he calls out over the comms — the white pants are an easy target as is. He grimaces; Glydril is working up a temper at this point.

Sherya manages to not take any serious harm from the sonic blast. She can hear energy weapons go off behind her but she won't see Jeriah shoot two people who had turned on her. The Canuck nods to Captain America and rushes forward and pulls out what definitely looks like a paintball pistol from his pocket. When he fires though… not paintballs. Gouts of smoke or gas spring out of the balls as they hit the ground. They're not going to last long but they're just enough to obscure vision. Also, they're red and white.

That's enough time for Cap to turn a Toyota into an improvised shot put. One that bowls over all three of the people shooting at him, triggering another blast that takes out the two shooting at Canada as well.

Which frees him up for-

"INCOMING!" Jeriah calls. Cap sees it. That blur has moved toward him and he can see as the field drops and a figure with electrified fists leaps into the air and tries to come down atop him with a hammer punch.

"Are you alright Fair Lad-ow!" The green armored man turns toward Jemma but is shot in the back. He stumbles and turns. "EAT MY LASER POWERED GOBLIN THRASHER!!!!"

He swings and bowls over a van at his attacker. He appears to be quite strong.

Of course while he's distracted someone drops down from the upper level. One of the thugs had finally gotten into the theater. And he tries to knife Jemma.

As Jemma shakes herself and stands slowly, charred pieces of popcorn fall to the ground. She's going to have to seriously wash this clothing and she's not sure the smell will come out of her hair. Giving the Hootsman a flat look, the biochem gasps as he's hit "Perhaps you should be paying attention to what's going o——" It's all very prim, but stops when that figure drops on her.

She doesn't stop to think.

Her metal arm snaps out out to grab the knife hand and she twists it, painfully. It … snaps and the knife drops to the floor. "Didn't anyone tell you, you should be a girl dinner before trying to stab her?"

If she'd seen Jeriah's cover fire, Shayera would have indeed thanked him when the opportunity presented itself. But for now, she's still in the middle of a fight. One that she plans to end right NOW.

As the Toyota mows through most of the rest of the thugs, she charges the man who just fired the sonic weapon at her. One swipe of her mace destroys the weapon, and a following swing of her armored forearm at the man's head knocks him flat.

"And STAY down," she snarls before turning to see if there's anyone left to deal with.

She hasn't wing-bashed anyone for a while. It's overdue.

It's incredibly satisfying to see the results of the Toyota's chasis rendered into something more useful than smoke-darkened metal. It might also be disturbing to see the sliver of a smile on Steve's face, darker and more content than usual with his move to level the playing field.

And a nearby fire hydrant, which now sprays depressingly at an odd angle. Oops.

Thank god for Jeriah's warning. Whipping around with the Vibranium shield leading, he counter-swings into the descending fist laced with crackling electricity. Contact is concussive and sparkling; the starry shield rings deeply like a struck gong. It brings Steve down to one knee to keep from being knocked butt-over-tea-kettle and leaves his arm tingling from fingertips to shoulder for a benumbed second.

It's questionable whether or not his attacker's own tech survived the reactive contact, but they're a sprawl on the asphalt now, slowly rolling from their back to their side with limbs reflexively curling in.

«Unknown down, moving to secure.» Out come a set of non-conductive cuffs from Steve's belt as he walks over to the sprawled figure.

But first, he turns and points dead at the Canny Canuck: "Thank you. Now get behind the cordon before I cuff you too."

"Uh. Sorry." At least one can be relatively sure he IS Canadian. Someone might want to run an ID on him at some point but he does scurry off. Mister White Pants looks at his hammer and test-swings it a couple of times. "Needs a charge. I'll need to go into space. I shall return, good people. HOOTSFORCE!" He crouches and launches himself skyward.

Jeriah sighs and steps out with his hounds to offer Jemma a hand up. "Now I'm glad we parked in the structure and not the lot. Thanks Cap. And… Ma'am."

Sirens are wailing. Police and SHIELD tactical will be moving in shortly to clean up, though there is probably a bit of time to chat.

Shayera shakes her wings out a bit like someone might resettle long hair, then folds them comfortably as she steps toward Steve, mace still in hand. She'll remain on the alert for any of these goons to try and cause any more trouble until the police and other authorities arrive.

"Nice work with the frisbee," she comments seemingly idly.

It takes Steve a few moments to reply given how he's monitoring the hand-off of the Unknown to arriving SHIELD agents. Once he's certain the quick-moving person is in good (non-electrified) hands, he turns to face the winged woman.

"Thanks. Figure you didn't find that in any hardwear store around here," he comments back, equally bland but for the faintest lacing of wry amusement. The shield itself is now comfortably at home on the Captain's back as he walks to meet her in the middle of the combat site. There are still groans rising here and there where gunmen lie strewn and sore from earning the hits they took; the asphalt is scorched in places and that poor broken fire hydrant: such a travesty. Sirens make Steve glance over into the theatre's gutted entrance and grimace.

His compliment and introduction are clipped but not impolite. "Glad you arrived when you did. Captain Rogers."

"Grounder transports are too slow," she quips, watching the agents and officers start dealing with the remaining mess. "I was with the officers," she nods to a small contingent of NYPD, "but got impatient. Shayera Hol."

She offers Steve a handshake.

Shayera's hand is gripped with a firm, brisk, and polite shake in return.

"Appreciate your assistance, Miss Hol. You from around here?" the Captain asks, his stance relaxing into something more akin to parade rest, albeit with his hands anchored at his hips. One of the goons being momentarily troublesome has him looking over and shifting his weight as if to assist, but one of the SHIELD agent's ICERs comes out. The goon doesn't argue for much longer afterwards.

Shayera huffs in what could be amusement, her wings rustling as she resettles them. "Oh, I'm totally a native New Yorker." She's clearly being sarcastic, even if the hint of an accent to her words and the WINGS weren't a dead giveaway.

"Been here for pretty close to a year, though. You?"

Steve curls a smirk. "Boy, a year — you're just about a local at this point. If you ever get bored 'nd figure out the subway system, people'll think you've been living here your whole life."

He then thumbs over his shoulder. "Brooklyn, born 'nd raised, back again after some time abroad."

So much time abroad.

"Figured you weren't from around here though. You from Earth?" he continues, clearly still curious about matters. His arms get loosely folded across his chest. There's a scuff mark or two on his elbows, but thankfully, not even a bullet graze from the earlier hail of gunfire. The shield did its job well.

Shayera shakes her head wryly. She STILL can't believe Grounders named this planet DIRT. "Yeah. My home city is … northeast of here." Vague, but close enough to accurate. She crosses her arms and scoffs more openly this time. "Why would I go UNDER the ground when I can just FLY where I need to go?"

There's still the potential of colliding with those annoying little drone things, but that's not nearly enough to keep her grounded. Her own armor seems for the most part untouched, though there are a few feathers bent out of place on her wings. Nothing a good round of gooming can't fix. Unless it's a spot she can't reach on herself.

The breadth of his shoulders rise and fall in an easy-going shrug.

"Inclement weather. Unidentified flying objects. Identified flying objects. Anti-aircraft guns." Steve lists a few reasons for appreciating being grounded nonchalantly, his razzing still polite. "Snipers is a big one. Had more'n a few of my coworkers deal with them." He'd know well: he lives with one, after all.

"Don't have to if you don't want to though. I can imagine it's a bit less stressful being up there than down here. Traffic's only gotten worse over the years."

Shay offers a crooked half-grin. "Weather? Pfft. Just give me a reason to swat some of those annoying little drone things out of my way. And I make sure to fly below the range of local air traffic." She doesn't mention the risk of snipers, as she suspects she flies fast enough that most normal snipers wouldn't have a chance to get a hit on her.

"I will never undrestand all of thise … traffic."

"That's New York for you. Always been a busy place, probably won't slow down anytime soon."

Steve briefly turns when someone hails him, one of the SHIELD agents. He calls back that he'll be at the Triskelion soon enough, yes, medical knows he's on his way in, he'll touch base with Fury.

"'m needed back at the fort though, so better get back before anybody starts to miss me. Job's never ending," the Captain muses with a sigh. "Still, if I see you around again, Miss Hol, hopefully it's in less dire circumstances. If it's a mess, I'll be sure to let folks know you're on our side." With a curt nod towards Shayera, he turn walks away, headed for his motorcycle and a text shot off to Barnes that he's alive, but he will be late for dinner — sorry!

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