Log:Rawr at the Racetrack
From C2Wiki
| Rawr at the Racetrack | |
|---|---|
| Emitter | Strobe (Hope) |
| Players | Knockout (Heather), Nighthawk (Jennifer), Fast Forward (Toby) |
| NPCs | |
| Place | West Hills Racetrack, Port Liberty |
| Time (IC) | 9:00am, April 18, 2013 |
| Time (OOC) | morning of April 18, 2008 |
Flat tires suck. Heather's on the side of the road with her sweet camaro up on a jack. All her powers, and she still has to deal with car problems. She's got her car off the road in the parking lot for the track and rather than displaying the fact that she can lift her car one handed, she has it up on that jack while she works on changing the tire. Hey, she knows how to change tires! She wasn't exactly a tomboy, but she can do little things like that rather than just sitting there on the side of the road waiting for AAA. However, she has altered her costume so that she has gloves on to avoid getting grease on her hands.
The racetrack's pretty deserted, it being somewhat early in the morning. There are a few horses and jockeys present, however, as there's a racing crew here giving their horses a little morning run. Not that this can be seen from an outside viewpoint, but this is what's going on.
...until the clear morning sky suddenly darkens as rainless stormclouds suddenly roll in... rolling in to a central point from the same distance away that isn't the horizon. It's as if a near-perfect circle of clouds is being summoned into being directly over the racetrack -- obviously not a natural occurance. The unnatrual nature of the clouds is accenturated by that they're glowing red, mostly at that central point where they met when they rolled in... and then a completely noiseless red lightning bolt streaks down from that central point to strike near the fountain in the middle of the racetrack!
From outside the racetrack, of course, the effects of that red lightning bolt's strike aren't visible...
"Oh great, it's not enough that I drive over a nail....my spare's flat too." mutters Heather. Then the clouds roll in and she glances up for a moment, "And now I'm gonna get rained o...." her word just stops as she sees the clouds turn red. "Green for tornado... what the heck does red mean?" Okay, she may be blonde, and somewhat clueless about certain things, but a perfectly circular formation, and a lightning strike. Not good. Sighing, she drops the tire iron into the car, slams the door (knocking the car off the jack too) and in a combination of frustration and curiosity, she turns and starts running for the track.
Soon as she manages to get out of sight from whomever might be anywhere, her right hand touches her bracelet on the left wrist, and when she comes out from cover, she's in that painted on (or may as well be) costume of hers, complete with that cleverly concealing domino mask. Never hurts to be ready, right? Once properly -attired- she turns her jog into a dead run...
There's a gate, closed but easy enough for Knockout to hurdle, then there's a run through the empty inner portion of the stadium and up the nearest flight of stairs to the lowest deck of the stands, from where the middle of the track is clearly visible.
There's a scroched spot of earth near the fountain, perhaps where the lightning bolt struck, and the center-stage is on fire... probably because of that DRAGON that's in there, that's just finished breathing fire onto it!
Some of the jockeys and other folk there are just recovering from staring in shock and are running the hell away... the horses, even those with riders, were smarter -- they started running the moment the dragon made itself apparent.
Yep, it's a dragon. And honest-to-gosh DRAGON! If that wasn't scary enough, it's "life-size"... the thing's easily over sixty feet tall when it cranes its head up on its neck, and probably twice that long... it fills up most of the oval area inside the track.
A goddamned dragon? Knockout -almost- stumbles as that fact registers in her brain. "I thought those were just in stories... but there's Atlantis and people who come back from the dead. "Now, I got a shield, but now I just need a spear and magic helmet..." she mutters, igniting that plasma shield on her way across the racetrack. Skidding to a stop near the beast, she calls out, "Did you file the proper forms and get a permit to dispose of rubbish by burning it?!" Okay, Dragons are supposed to be intelligent. Maybe she can -talk- this one down..... oy. Shields up!
The dragon, eyes following the nearest horse, jerks its head around as, suddenly, some puny little human's rushing up and yelling at it. Snarling, like a vastly-oversized dog, it... spits a gout of flame down at the silly little people that's in its face. The flames fly straight and true... and spatter on the plasma shield Knockout had the good sense to raise up in front of herself as she ran to get the dragon's attention. Also, either it ignored the witty jibe, or something!
Catching the gout of flame on her shield, Knockout cries out, "Whoa Ugly!" Quoting a movie she saw as a child.... even then it was a bit of an older movie. But she's quoting Porthos.. the Oliver Platt version. The fact that she has the presence of mind to quote movies shows that as much as she's kinda freaked out, she's at least not in a panicky fear. She raises her shield up over her head to help fend off further attacks and steps in to execute a simple right thrust punch. *kapow!* Perfectly executed.... and she pulls her hand back to let it heal from hitting dragon scales.... still retaining her defensive posture. Here's hoping it doesn't have some area blaze.
The dragon roars angrily and... just /stands there/, trusting that it's way too touch for some silly little blonde PEOPLE to actually hurt it. It uses its size to great advantage, slamming down a massive, clawed hand at the heroine -- who nimbly dodges aisde and completely out of the way.
And quite literally cartwheeling out of the way, Knockout has decided she really needs a spear and magic helmet. Though she gets back to her feet and leaps into the air once more, lifting her fist up with her and coming down right on the thing's foot. *slam!* Erm, okay... she jumps off again before that foot moves. No point in being thrown across town
The dragon, its foot harmlessly stomped-upon, swipes its claws at the heroine who's pestering it... but she's, again, way too nimble to be easily snared!
Stupid dragon. Knockout shakes her head and sees that she didn't even make the damned thing blink. So she waits for the claws to rake by this time and grabs onto'em at the last moment. As they move across and up, she lets go while kicking her legs upwards. She ends up right on the thing's back between the wings. One hand holding onto a wing-muscle while the other keeps the shield up... just in case. At least she might -frustrate- the thing.
The dragon reaches its head around to try and bite at the annoying human that's on its back... but is thwarted by that shield she has going!
Up there, on the back of the Dragon... Knockout's riding between the wings. Good lord, she's on a bucking bronco the likes of which..... well, she's never heard of. Holding on with one hand to the spot where one wing meets the body, she's being flailed about but somehow manages to retain her balance and her left arm fends off the creature's twisting neck reaching around and trying to bite at her while the stage in the winner's circle continues smouldering. They're out in the center of the field inside the track, and the few personnel on site have scattered recently. However, at the last moment, when that head has just snapped at her, Knockout narrows her eyes and uses her hand on the wing to add leverage as she fires a powerful roundhouse kick that connects with the thing's chin. This one actually seems to have some effect, making the creature whip its head back away from her while she -somehow- manages to retain her grip on that wing. She's got the shield, now where's the spear and magic helmet! Or even a sword! Maybe a knight on a faithful steed?!
The dragon roars, clearly 'in pain' this time, and reaches up with its tail, swatting at Knockout from behind and throwing her off-balance enough that it can grab her with one massive, clawed 'hand'... and it hurls her away from itself, sending her tumbling along the ground to smack into the wooden fence that's around the inside of the racetrack! The fence breaks as she hits it and she ends up on her back on the dirt race track, just beyond the fence... but whatever scratches and/or cuts she suffered along the way seem to just vanish -- negligible damage that she almost instantly heals.
Another heroine arrives on the scene... to see a dragon, over sixty feet tall with its head held up on its neck and over a hundred feet long, in the center oval-shaped landscaped area in the middle of the track. A blonde woman on its back is, unceremoniously, snatched off and hurled through the fence that follows the inner side of the track itself...
The red rolling clouds, the same soundless lightning that was seen just the other day catches Jennifer's attention as she was driving to an appointment. Swearving madly in traffic as several other people all but stop as they see the sight, the young woman, being the photojournalist that she is, hurriedly pulls into the racetrack and finds a place to park, legal or not, near the entrance.
"Dial Karen," the woman speaks as she hops out of the car with her camera, snapping off a few pictures. "Karen, Jen. Yeah... something's up at the racetrack. I may be late for my appointment. Just a heads up. ... Uh-huh. Good, thanks for slipping me in whenever. Yes, yes... it's important I come to see you. No, actually, it's not a therapy session. Holy crap... a dragon? Yeah... gotta go now. Later, K!"
Blinking at the creature, Jennifer gets a few more snapshots off before she says, "Odin, typical drill. Yeah. I know you really hate filling up your discspace like this Charlie, but thanks. Yes, I know he's just a computer, but YOU talk to him all the time," practically whines the woman as she sidesteps into a dark alcove.
In the alcove the shadows embrace Jennifer as the words of Romanian flow from her lips, the words of transformation which transform her streetclothes into the her vigilante costume. So it is that Nighthawk steps out of the alcove rather than Jennifer, the camera gone, hidden away, or chased away with the rest of her mundane identity. As Nighthawk takes a step forward she blinks, a gleaming silvery sword shimmmering into being into her hand. She looks at it a momen then frowns, "Oh ... hell. Melee. Nothing else to do about it, though." Glancing around, the woman hops, skips and jumps, ending up flipping through the air with grace and poise like any good Olympic Gymnast, landing not far from the creature that just shrugged off the woman, rising in a menacing manner as her eyes narrow towards the Dragon. "Now would be a good time to stop playing with your toys, boy," she offers, her blue eyes darting around momentarily looking for the robed man from the day before.
She was up there, ready to work hard and keep going on.... and then she's sailing through the air. "Crap crap crap.." *crash* into the fence, and then her words change to "Ow ow ow..." and she barely has time to stop before her hands catch in the dirt behind her, and she kips up to her feet to charge right back in. Along the way she yanks a hunk of the wood out of her lower back and then she leaps into the air, quite literally yelling, "Hey you firebreathing nutjob! Try a Tic Tac!" and then her foot impacts, a cracking sound as her ankle snaps and then heals before she can even hit the ground. "I... Hate... Dragons.." she mutters, sparing a glance for Nighthawk while retaining her shield up there before her.
The dragon's growling and snarling at Knockout, who it just flung off of its back, when Nighthawk shows up. It turns its head to look at her, still snarling and growling... then, about as Knockout thumps it politely in the chest like that, it stops growling... and... skitters backwards. It's comical, really, a beast this large skittering back away from a small woman like that. It looks like a cat on a tile floor, the way it moves its feet and pushes back away from her, even using its wings, the flapping more to help itself retreat hastily across the ground than to carry it up into the air. Its retreat carries it into the fountain, which cracks under the weight of the dragon. At least it was off, and there's not water spraying randomly all over now that the fountain's broken. For whatever reason, Nighthawk SCARED the dragon, which is, like, ten times her size ... and then some. It keeps going, past the fountain... ending up about sixty feet away from the two women.
"Here goes nothing," comments Nighthawk, her blue eyes just barely focusing on one part of the stands for a bit. "There he is, Odin," she states, before tearing her gaze away. "Please don't hit me back, please don't hit me back, please don't hit me back!" murmurs Nighthawk in a mantra as she charges the very large dragon, sword held high above her. As she brings the blade around, with skill enough that one would likely observe she's used such archaic weapons before, it glows with a faint yellowish light as it slashes into the creature, injuring it deeply. By the time Nighthawk pulls the blade free the glow is gone, but the injury to the dragon is still there.
Shaking her head, Knockout lets her gaze go where Nighthawk's did before she shrugs and charges in towards the creature. Something out of Tae Kwon Do this time... and Knockout plants her left foot and spins about, planting her right boot into the dragon right by that stab wound. She figures.. hey the scales are pierced, let's use that. "Hiya..." she remarks as she ends up beside Nighthawk.
The dragon snarls and seems to 'come to', still backpedalling, it breathes a cone-shaped gout of fire at the two women. It hits and badly burns Knockout... but seems to part and simply flow around Nighthawk, not even touching her! The dragon then... turns and starts climbing up into the stands, still retreating from the woman with the sword, getting about 20' away and up the bleachers a ways.
As the fire flows around her, Nighhtawk arches an eyebrow upwards. "Thank you," she murmurs with a quick glance upwards, before she hops, then starts jogging forward. The woman is obviously an accomplished acrobat by the way she hops, skips and flips through the air to land and catch the dragon unawares as she strikes. The sword glows blue as it sliced though dragon flesh, injuring it again, not as badly as prevously, but it is injured yet again.
Fire sucks. Knockout has always hated fire. It's.... well it's a kind of pain that isn't cool. Her flesh (and clothes) smoulder, and as it blows around her hair, she ends up with far less blonde locks. Though as the fire stops blowing her hair's already growing back. "That's it!" she announces in a pissed off tone of voice. She's not being acrobatic. She stalks right up to the dragon right after Nighthawk slashes at the creature, and she follows up by grabbing the edges of that sword-cut and ripping the flesh further apart. Blood is flowing now, and she's grunting with the effort, "No burning my damned hair!!" she cries out.. Though she -is- still in position in case she can take a shot for Nighthawk.
The dragon continues to... retreat from Nighthawk, though it swipes its tail at the two women in an effort to slow them down by knocking them off their feet. Nighthawk, perhaps trusting in the sword's magic too much, gets toppled over. Knockout, clearly not trusting to anything where the dragon's concerned, flips up and over the tail to land back on her feet. The dragon keeps climbing up the stands as it withdraws from Nighthawk and that blade of hers, heading for the very top -- is it going to try to fly away?!
Hearing about some kind of commotion, Toby went from studying quietly in the park with a radio nearby to streaking to the track, moving so fast as to be invisible to all but the fastest. He changes as he goes, reaching the track, and going right up the wall, glancing about in the eternity he has to carefully survey the scene in what is maybe half a second for most people.
As he sweeps by the table, FF picks up the model of the stadium, tucking it under an arm, figuring it'll do more actual good in his hands than.... whoever's. Turning on a dime... going back to pick the dime up, never know when $.10 will come in handy, and rushing the dragon again, it sounds like machinegunfire going off as he releases a series of rapid jabs at the monster, all right handed. Seeing it dizzied by the array, he pushes himself into an even higher gear, firing away weith rapid right after right, and finishing by smacking it across the head with the model itself before he backs away. "All yours, girls."
When the model connects with the dragons head... it shatters... and there's an explosion!
The model starts shaking in Fast Forward's hands... and he, wisely, drops it and races away. The model then explodes in a flash of multi-colored light, leaving nothing of itself behind... nor of the dragon.
Looking around, Nighthawk's eyes narrow as she looks across to another section of the stands. "Which one are you... right, Fast Forward! A little help! Give me a lift over there to where you got that model? Much obliged," she notes, narrowing. "Get a good look, Odin, come on... get a good look."
Well, Knockout has no idea what's going on with models and stands and any of that. The Dragon vanished and she is still healing from the major burns on her exposed flesh. Her tunnel vision kinda pops when the Dragon does too, and she just kinda moves to follow Nighthawk. "Nice sword you have there." she mutters, keeping her plasma shield ignited as she kinda flanks the sword wielder almost like an old Valkyrie Shield Maiden.
When Nighthawk draws everyone's attention to the far side of the stadium, to the roof of the boxes there, a man appears, clad in robes with hood up over his head. He turn and steps through... nothing, but it's like he stepped through a doorway, vanishing.
"Surte thing, mMiss... uhm... Nighthawk, I think?" he calls, tearing down the stairs to collect the heroine as politely as he can, at least. He's getting back up just in time to see the figure appear, then vanish, even as he's reaching for one of the pouches at his belt. "Huh... demons on the baseball field, dragon at the track... sudden poof... wonder if there's some connection..." he ponders, looking around at the damage. "And this is probably my fault... sorta."
The clouds overhead, dark and glowing red... just fade away as if they'd never been, now that everything's over...
Pausing, Knockout sees Nighthawk just kinda vanish and then looks up to where the guy vanished from. Of course, totally different kinds of vanishing. "Great... wish I'd noticed that guy from the start. Maybe I could've prevented so much damage." She shakes her head and bounds up towards that area so that maybe she can get some examination of the area done. However, up there, she shakes her head, "nope, nobody here..." Then she looks out and spies the other two. "Thanks for the backup!" she calls out before simply dashing off into the...well not the night, not the sunset. Oh right, she dashes off to go get AAA to bring her a new tire for her car *sigh*
"Nighthawk is right. Thank you, Fast Forward," notes the woman as she watches the figure disappear. And she frowns. "They are. There was an incident on Marsden beach yesterday, where that same robed figure was involved, using a model just like the one you destroyed. And don't think it's your fault, destroying the model destroyed the dragon. It was an excellent tactical step. Hopefully Odin will have gotten a clearer look at this man's face this time about," she offers, before finally turning to look over to Knockout. "Mmm, yes, I actually like it better than the time I used Blackblade's. That was just a mundane sword, then, this one," and Nighthawk raises her now empty hand, where the sword had disappeared the moment the dragon did, "Was ... interesting," she notes before offering a smile.
"Huh, well, I might have had a run in with him without knowing it on opening day at the baseball stadium. Anyway, he's gone now, so I'm going to go find the toolshed and clean this up a bit... even if its not my fault, it still seems like I should do what I can, since I exploded the dragon. I'll try and find the guy next time instead." he adds, disappearing in a blur of white and blqack, opening up the toolshed. Over the next few minutes, seats are replaced, wood paneling is fixed, temporary putty is put in to limit the water damage from the fountain, which is beyond his abilitiy, 0r at least materials. By the time Nighthawk returns from her car, or wherever, the major explosion damatge is down to structural needs, and FF is dusting himself off, looking about to try and see if there's anything else he could handle with what's on site.
Nighthawk nods to Fast Forward about the damage, then she blinks. Without a word, the woman rushes off, disappearing completely. The one that returns, however, is Jennifer Mallory, satchel slung over her shoulder and she tries to get a few pictures off of the damage, only to find there is none. "Darn speedsters, can't let me get a good photo..." she notes, putting the back of her hand to her lips as she looks momentarily green. "Need to eat. Gah."
Fast Forward moves into the line of the camera, apparently not at all shy, guiving her a small grin. "If you really wwant photos of the damage, you should look at the fountain. Or I could hold up one of the mangled chairs?" he offers. "You look a little off though, mMiss, anything...oh, right." With a blur, he's off again, returning with one of the sandwiches from the refrigeration area and a bottled water. "Here, this should help. You sure you're ok?" he asks, not seeming to think it at all odd the media, or something akin to it, would show up so quickly.
"Misses," corrects Jennifer with a smile, nodding her thanks to the young man. "Right, fountain," she says after a few clicks of the camera getting Fast Forward. "Oh, I'm fine. Nothing a few more months shouldn't cure," she notes with a wink, before settling down and eyeing the sandwich and tearing into it. "Jennifer Mallory, by the way," she offers as she drinks down some water, suddenly famished. "I take pictures, put 'em up on the wire and what have you. Mind your face published ... uh... Fast Forward, isn't it?" she asks. "Oh, hey, know how much this comes to? I should pay for it."
"I always leave some cash behind when I borrow stuff when I need to get it fast... the sandwich is seven dollars and fifty nine cents... concession stand prices. The drink is 2 oh-five. You looked like you needed it though Mrs. Mallory. And yeah, I'm familiar with your work. You did some kind of art exhibition or other, right?" He poses in front of the fountain somewhere amidst the eating and photo taking. "I don't mind pictures, no. After all, I've got nothing to be ashamed of... I'm one of the good guys and all that."
"Indeed, you are, but people get scared of that which they don't understand," notes Jennifer as she quickly finishes off the sandwich and goes digging around for some cash. "Here, to pay you back," she notes with a nod. "Yeah, I forgot to eat breakfast. I was on my way to a doctor's appointment when ..." she says a hand waving into the air towards the now gone red clouds and lightning. "Hey, that ws good, what kind of sandwich was that again?" she asks drinking down some water. "So... any idea what happened here? I've got a friend at the Chronicle who likes to cover meta-stuff and the more details I give her, the more she returns the favor by using my pictures."
Fast Forward tucks the money into one of the pouches at his belt and nods. "Of course people are afraid of what's unfamiliar. Which ios all the more reason to appear in photos helping out, fix our messes as much as we can, do good public relations stuff... the bad guys, like that robot, aren't afraid to broadcast the bad stuff all over the world, right? So as long as the good guys are in hiding, that's all anyone is ever gouing to see or hear.... oh, and its turkey and swiss, I think. You need a lift anywhere, Mrs. Mallory?"
Jennifer shakes her head as she stands up. "No, I'm good, my car's parked, illegally, outside. Somehow, I don't think anyone's noticed yet," she offers with a faint chuckle. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a bit nauseous, so getting a lift at high speeds might mean a very unclean costume for you." A glance around, then Jennifer nods to herself. "All right, I'm going to get a few pictures of the fountain, then I'll take off." A pause and then Jennifer turns to smile at Fast Forward, almost broadly, someone frightening coming from a woman who until recently just didn't smile, "Thank you, Fast Forward," is offered before she walks off.
