[IC] City of Treaft! (Semi-Private)

[1Hawkeyes]

Agent stood atop of an office building, looking down on the city below. This was her home city, and this was the city the young woman vowed to protect. Every night she took to the streets to protect the crime-ridden city. She wanted to improve the standard of living of the citizens, of her friends, and especially of her family.

Agent looked down at her black-gloved hand. She didn't know why she was granted powers, she didn't even know where they came from. All she knew was she had them and she needed to do good with them.

Agent, Ally Estrada, earned this driving force to do good from her father. Although he passed away when she was young, he instilled a strong moral compass in her. Robbing someone was bad. Hurting someone was bad. Defending others was good. Standing up for your beliefs was good.

Her thoughts were interrupted by pounding footsteps on the concrete below. The figure of a man raced down the empty sidewalk, holding some sort of bag in his arms. Agent raised an eyebrow and sprang into action. She raced across the rooftops, speeding past the man. She needed time to get from the roof to the ground while still being able to unravelintercept him. Maybe I should stick to the ground more, she thought as she scaled down the side of the three-story building. Although her skin was thicker than the average woman's, she doubted a fall from this height would do her any good.

Once on the ground, she waited for the footsteps to draw closer. When he sounded close enough, she stepped around the corner, blocking his path. The man stopped in his tracks, obviously angry. "What the hell are you blocking my way for?" he shouted.

"Anything interesting in the bag?" Agent asked, nodding her head in the direction of the black bag slung over his shoulder.

"What's it to you?"

"It's my job to make sure you're not about to do something stupid," she explained, taking a step forward, "So what's in the bag?"

"Your job? I don't see anyone paying you to harass me!" The man reached into the bag and pulled out manilla files. "These are business sheets! Transactions! I live in the crappy side of the city and it's already late! You're putting me in more danger by wasting my time!" he shouted, "Now move!"

The man lunged forward, shoving Agent out of his way. His footsteps echoed as he ran to his home. Scratching her head, Agent thought on her choice. Maybe she shouldn't have stopped him. He seemed in a rush, sure, but was he really dangerous? Did having a bag and running really make someone seem dangerous?

Agent let out a long sigh and walked in the same direction the man ran in. He was right, she wasn't paid to do this, so why did she?

A scream rang out through the night, slicing through the silence. Agent raised her head in the direction and ran. This was why she chose to fight- to protect anyone who needed her help.

"No, please!" a woman pleaded. This woman was surrounded by about eight, maybe nine grown men dressed in stereotypical gang attire: white T-shirts, jean shorts, bandanas. Their attention was purely focused on the defenseless woman, until Agent called, "I wouldn't do that!"

Really? she chided herself internally, that's how you're going to get them off of her?

The group shifted their attention from the hysterical, crying woman to the vigilante. One of them laughed, though there was no emotion in it. It was just a sound, an ugly sound. "So this bitch wants to join the party?" one of them asked, his pants already zipped down.

"Why don't you bring the party over here?" Agent asked, getting into a boxer's stance.

More laughs rang from the men, and Agent's fists closed tighter. She just needed them to move their focus from the woman to her.

"Hey Trick, go get her," the leader commanded.

A tall, thin man made his way over to Agent and flipped open a pocket knife. He looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on her more womanly assets. "A suit like that don't leave much to the imagination," he said, wiping the blade with his hand as he took slow steps forward. "Can't wait 'til I get to cut it open and taste that sweet-"

Before the man could finish his sentence, a shin smashed against his temple, instantly knocking him out. The knife in his hand hit the ground a few feet away from his unconscious body. The men were silent for a moment until the leader spoke up, "Get her!"

Before his lackeys went for the attack, the leader grabbed the woman and held her to his body. "We can have our fun while they deal with that," he chuckled, licking the victim's neck bottom to top.

[Crossfire]

He had a name once.

He had a life once. He had fought and bled to get that life in some of the worse hellholes the world had to offer. He had spilled blood for that life. He had suffered and lost for that life. And when the fighting was done, he laid down his arms and walked into heaven on Earth. He had it all: A nice house, good friends, a beautiful wife, a steady job. And the light of his life- a little angel named Emily.

Not anymore.

A cruel twist of fate took away everything in an instant. All that was left was pain.

And a thirst for vengeance.

They called him many things. Vigilante. Mass murderer. Menace. Serial killer. A necessary evil. To the scum he wiped out night after night, he was simply called Reaper.

Reaper heard the woman's cries for help, the gangsters talking among themselves and then to someone else. As he rounded the corner to the alleyway, he saw the men, all looking away from him, the victim, squirming against her captor. And at the far end, standing over a freshly-fallen foe, was a girl in a costume.

He had heard the rumors of a vigilante in the city, though she never usually came down this far. Whatever the reason for her being here, it changed nothing for Reaper. His trusty combat-knife in hand, he stomped up behind the man holding the woman, tapped him on the shoulder, and as soon as the gangster's neck was exposed, sliced his throat. The woman screamed as she sprang free from the (soon-to-be) dead man's limp grasp. The scream drew the attention of his buddies, but Reaper had already drawn out a 9mm pistol and while they were still caught off guard, popped the two closest to him, a single headshot each.

[1Hawkeyes]

Several of the gang members charged Agent at once. She took a deep breath as she let them draw close. Sure they were strong, but she was stronger. A few punches from thugs wouldn't hurt her, but this wasn't her concern. The man, the monster holding the woman was her target. These charging thugs were merely obstacles.

The closest one drew within a few feet of Agent, his fist pulled back to deliver a massive punch. Before he knew what was coming, Agent thrusted forward, her elbow slamming into the soft spot under the man's jaw. A punch came from the left. Agent barely had time to duck away before giving an uppercut of her own to the attacking thug. He crumbled to the ground, all of the air expelled from his lungs.

That was when an odd gasping sound came from the woman's direction. It was quickly followed by another scream from the woman and two gunshots. "What the heck?" Agent asked, taking her attention away from the fight and to where the other part of the fight was happening. A man holding a pistol stood over the two bodies, looking for his next victims.

No good, was all Agent could think. If his bullets went stray they could easily hit the victim or herself, and now was not the night she wanted to test her resistance to bullets. She noticed the woman crumpled against the wall beside the leader whose trachea seemed to be falling out of a hole in his neck. Agent looked up to the man who did this. She didn't know his name, but she immediately recognized him as the anti-hero who struck fear into Treaft.

Suddenly, an arm was laced under her own, while a knife pressed against her neck, putting her in a makeshift choke-knife hold. All of her thoughts were broken and it was back to action. She grabbed the man's knife hand with her free hand, stepped inward, pressing his hip towards hers, and heaved him over her hips, sending him flying to the ground. He landed with a heavy thud. Agent twisted his hand, easily disarming him and tossing the weapon to the side. Agent picked the man up, not being the one to kick someone while they were down, and sent a heavy straight right into the man's face. He was out and she dropped him back to the floor.

She scanned the area. About half of the gangsters were dead, the other half subdued and injured. Chills ran down her spine as she looked at all of the pools of blood on the floor. Never in her short career as a vigilante had she ever caused so much blood to be spilled. Agent wasn't exactly sure what to do, except go to the victim and console her.

"It's alright now," Agent assured her, though she really wasn't sure how okay everything was. She knew the vigilante who helped was rough, but she couldn't be sure what he would do to the surviving victims. "If you have a cell phone, you can call the police."

The woman nodded and shakily dug through her purse for her cell phone. Agent turned around to meet the other vigilante, though she wasn't sure what to say or do. "Uh, thanks, I guess," she muttered, looking to the bodies.

[King Tai]

What is a hero? A hero is a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities. What is a vigilante? A vigilante is a member of a self-appointed group of citizens who undertake law enforcement in their community without legal authority, typically because the legal agencies are thought to be inadequate.

Some say that real heroes are the police, firefighters, EMTs, people in the military, and everyday folks that protects, encourage, and show natural affection to lowly ones who can't do for themselves. Some say the real heroes are the capes...people with powers or special skills that can do extra ordinary things. Some say that those same capes are nothing but vigilantes who think they are better or above the law enforcement who legally have the authority to uphold the law. There have been ones who took the law into their own hands and simply crossed lines that most heroes wouldn't cross to get the job done.

With many definitions, opinions, personal experiences circulating around the City of Treaft in regards to crime fighting and heroism, one individual was stuck in between this urban storm with a tangle of questions in his mind wondering what is considered right and what is considered wrong?

Solomon Bautista, 28 year old meat market butcher who works from 9 am to 7 pm mostly 5 days throughout the week. Nothing amazing or worth talking about n his personal life. Single, living in a half okay apartment on the corner of Monroe and 7th ave. One friend who plays video games day in and day out. Social life, only when he's practicing at his uncle's dojo. Oh yes...did he mention he's capable of releasing ultrasonic screams?

Not long ago, Solomon gained some abilities that at first made him think he was hallucinating but after doing a few tests, became someone that he never thought he'd become, a meta human. Yes, so far Solomon have kept it a secret, afraid of getting the wrong attention being that he considered himself a freak. At first, these gifts felt like a curse but that was until one night, he had an abrupt calling that he couldn't ignore.

Solomon was usually to himself before gaining these powers but after gaining them, he felt the need to put these powers to good use. There were a few scuffles. Fighting 3 guys who jumped a defenseless kid, chasing down someone that stole a personal item from someone else. Just little petty crimes that Solomon, while concealing his identity with his hoodie, stopped. Yeah, these were going to be unknown acts of righting the wrongs on his block while continuing his normal life but this night was different. This night, Solomon witnessed something he probably felt he shouldn't have seen.

Earlier, he heard a scream about a couple blocks away the caused him to stop himself from heading to the park and rushed that direction. On his way though, he could hear someone else at the site where the scream came from, using his enhanced hearing to nearly catch the who conversation. What was going on? Someone else was already there to take care of these goons? Solomon hitched a ride on the back of a truck to get there faster as by the time he got there, Solomon covered his head with his hoodie.

He stood to the side, noticing a costumed woman fighting these thugs and...actually kicking ass. Just from her actions, she looked as if she had unusual strength. Solomon was going to jump in but wanted to watch a little more this. That was until the woman who screamed before was being held by the ring leader.

Now...this was it! Solomon could step in the bring help! But wait...Solomon caught something with his hearing in that same general direction when another person showed up to the fray, taking that ring leader down. Not only that but Solomon covered his ears from the sharp pain her felt hearing the gunshots being fired, killing these guys that were involved in this.

Solomon's face showed an expression of shock. Was this....was this real? This man just killed in front of him to save the woman. The other badass woman who fought these guys, it was possible she killed some as well. For certain, blood was spilled all over the gravel. Solomon, unsure if he should show himself, hung back for a moment to see what would happen next now that the fighting was over.

Did these two know each other? Were they going to team up? Was it legal for them to do what they did? Did he witness something that would change this city for better or for worse? He didn't know but he sure as hell knew that he would soon find out.

[Crossfire]

Reaper grunted in response, nonchalantly holstering his pistol. He had done pretty well for himself, about half of the group, each killed with a single shot, except one stubborn bastard who needed a second hole in him to go down. He made his way over to the victim, she was already on her phone, cops would be here soon no doubt. He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave a solemn nod, a silent 'you're ok now, I'm not gonna hurt you' before turning on the other, the costumed girl.

"I've seen you on the news" he growled, his voice hoarse from lack of use "Never figured you'd be so young."

[1Hawkeyes]

Agent watched him holster his guns, glad he wouldn't be addressing her with a weapon in his hand. At his comment, Agent shrugged and scratched the back of her neck. "Oh, I guess the same goes for you," she said, the quickly retracted and explained, "I mean, I've seen you in the news too." She didn't want to admit it, but he looked a lot older than she expected. Many other vigilantes and heroes were usually young. This man, however, seemed old enough to be her father.

"Is this how you do it every night?" Agent asked, waving to the dead bodies on the ground. Sure, the men she beat were bruised up, but none of them were dead. The main difference between the anti-hero's and her victims was the amount of blood. Another chill was sent down Agent's spine. It was hard to look at the bodies. As a hero, she was sworn to protect everyone... Right? Did that include saving criminals from death? "This is how you stop crime every night?" Agent muttered, a lump catching in her throat.

[Crossfire]

"It's the only way to really stop them." He said simply, smirking at her naivety "Trust me, you'll learn that someday."

She was capable, that much was clear from the way she handled those goons in the fight, but still too young, too soft to really make an impact.

"You don't come down this way often, do you? Scum like this are just the tip of the iceberg. I'm doing the world a favor here."

[King Tai]

Leaning against the corner building wall on the alley side, Solomon was able to listen closely to the conversation the two were having. That's right! Both of them have been on the news before. Favorable mentions of the female, the name escaped him at the moment, but he was thinking in the lines of Guardian, or The Shield, or Soldier girl, or was it Agent? he didn't fully remember but he did take a look at the male as well.

He recall hearing about him on the news as well. Mixed reactions at best. he sounded totally badass but it did leave Solomon wondering if what he was doing could actually be considered 'good'. Some feared him, that's for certain but the comment he made left Solomon to ponder for a moment. he said: "It's the only way to really stop them." and "I'm doing the world a favor here."

Was it really the only way to stop them? Solomon could still hear the heartbeats of the ones who were taken down by the female confirming that she didn't kill them. So yes, these men were battered but they were still stopped, none of the ones she fought, died and they would soon be taken away by the cops.

Solomon never took a life before but the fact that he's witnessing an anti-hero willing to cross the line because of his own beliefs, caused Solomon to second guess this hero game.

[1Hawkeyes]

Agent listened intently to Reaper's claims. She knew, or at least she figured, that her confrontations with this man would be scarce. She wanted to hear every word he had to offer. But, his words weren't exactly what she expected.

"No, I'm usually never around here," Agent confirmed, looking around. Even out of costume Agent chose to stay away from these parts. Why? Now that she thought about it, she had no real reason not to come down here. She had the strength of... Well she wasn't quite sure how strong she was, but it was definitely much stronger than other women. Really, the only thing preventing her from coming through these areas was that they made her feel uncomfortable. Even now she felt eyes watching her, but summed it up to pure paranoia.

"Even so, I don't think killing is the only way to truly stop crime." She pointed to the ground, "Look at this, the woman is safe, and these men probably won't try something like this again. I've stopped people from doing bad things- maybe never as serious as tonight- but I've stopped them, and seen them walking down the street weeks later doing their best to make a change. People can stop themselves from committing crimes. Sometimes all they need is a push."

[Crossfire]

"Your naivety speaks volumes kid. These pieces of shit right here knew exactly what they were doing when they signed up. They all know it's a commitment for life. They might stop for a bit, do some good deeds, but sooner or later, they come back down among the rats and roaches. To rape again, kill again, ruin the lives of decent, hardworking people who deserve better."

He paced the width of the alleyway, listening for the sirens, they'd be here soon, so things needed to wrap up quickly.

"I'm not delusional, I know I'm no saint. Ain't no paradise or everlasting happiness waiting for a guy like me at the end of the tunnel, so there's no stopping this whole thing until the day comes when all the scumbags are in the morgue or the bullet finds me."

[1Hawkeyes]

@Crossfire @King Tai

"In all due respect, I don't believe that's true," Agent replied. "People can change their lives around, and when they don't, they don't. That's why we're here- to keep them from hurting others until they take a hint or die doing what they choose. It isn't our place to choose whether or not they die, it's our place to protect the innocents hurt by this."

Agent listened to herself talk and shook her head slightly, doubtedly. Although she believed in her words, they didn't sound... real. Not that she wasn't speaking English or anything, but the words she spoke, well, they didn't seem to be true. Sure, some criminals turned around, but she caught a majority later on, sometimes the very next day. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am naive." As she spoke these words, the sirens began to approach. "I wish we didn't have to end this so early. Maybe we'll meet up another time?" she offered. The sirens drew closer and this was her definite cue to leave. Even though the murdered thugs on the ground weren't her victims, she felt she was largely connected to their death. If only she had been there sooner, everyone would have survived and none would succumb to the cold steel of the anti-hero's bullets.

Agent ran and hopped up onto the nearest garbage container, propelled off of it, and caught onto the windowsill of an apartment. She quickly and almost effortlessly scaled the apartment onto the roof before the police arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, as Ally Estrada prepared to go to work, a news report popped on the television. She sat on her hardly-used couch, munching away on a bagel, as she watched the story.

"Three attempted rapists murdered last night along with four injured. Police say this was the work of vigilante Reaper, and possibly an accomplice. Reaper's trademark victims usually carry lethal bullet wounds, but the police has yet to reveal the identity of the accomplice. The victim of these attackers, who made a public speech earlier this morning, had this to say:"

The footage cut from the news reporter to the woman from the previous night standing behind a podium with what seemed like a million microphones attached to it. A line of officers were behind her, giving her silent support and protection.

"Last night was the scariest experience of my life," she began, clearing her throat a bit, "And it could have been the last night of my life had two heroes not saved me. When I needed them, Reaper and Agent came to me and protected me. I know some of the rapists were killed, but I was saved. And I came here to thank them. Whoever you two are, I am so grateful for you. I owe my lives to you, and I want to get the opportunity to one day thank you in person, but for now, I thank you here. You two will always be heroes in my eyes. Thank you." The crowd began to politely clap as she stepped down from the podium.

The news reel changed back to the studio and just as the news reporter began to speak again, Ally shut off the television. This woman felt she owed her life to her and Reaper. Ally wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. Not many people she helped went with public thanks, at least not like this. She was proud to receive the thanks, but wondered how things might have turned out if she never arrived. Would Reaper be there in time? Would all criminals be dead or would some get away? She shook her head and finished her small breakfast before heading out to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Agent had to see Reaper again, she just had to. Something about the older man intrigued her. His point of view on being a hero, on how to save people, was different. Although she didn't agree with it, it seemed to work.

Through street intel, a few nights after the incident that allowed them to meet, Agent discovered there would be a large bank robbery by one of the rampant gangs, Los Chicos, in Reaper's part of the city. There was no way she could be sure if Reaper knew of the robbery or not, so she had to take care of it personally, right? In reality, she wouldn't admit that this was an excuse to meet up with Reaper again. Perhaps she was too proud, or too ashamed, but she gave herself the excuse that she was here on strict hero business.

Agent sat atop the bank, watching the workers lock up and set the alarms before leaving the bank. Unlike some other heroes, she didn't have much sophisticated technology. Some of the wealthier heroes had heat sensors, x-ray goggles, and other gadgets of the likes. Agent only carried a few laser pointers, some smoke bombs, and strobing lights. She sat atop the building, wondering how she would find the criminals and stop them before they had the chance to get their hands on any of the money.

[Crossfire]

The business was simple enough. Aim and shoot, then move on to the next scumbag. It was the preparation that was the real hard job, finding reliable sources of actionable information, picking the right tools for the job, plotting out an assault. It sometimes took Reaper days to plot his next large-scale move, but he kept busy with his nightly patrols, stopping whatever shit he stumbled across with a swift bullet or slash of a knife. Sometimes, though, sometimes he got lucky. Sometimes, he wandered into a bar and overheard some drunkard proclaim that the Chicos were planning to knock over a bank the next night, that it was going to be a big payday they were going to use to bankroll a whole new arsenal of heavy-duty gear.

'Not on my watch'

And so it came that he found himself staking out the bank in question, mere minutes before the show was set to start. His van parked over half a block away and stocked up for any level of engagement. He watched the front door of the bank through a pair of binoculars, waiting for any sign of movement.

[King Tai]

After their conversation, Solomon had a bit to think about with regards to moral code when it came to stopping crime and criminals. As the ear bleeding sirens got closer, Solomon started to move away once the conversation between the two heroes was over. If they were to meet again, what would happen this time? Should Solomon step in the help if they needed it, revealing that he's a potential hero too? He would see what will happen as time goes by.

-------------

A few days later, Solomon was back at the meat market again listening to the radio about what happened last night, thinking maybe if he were to listen out for their actions, he could join in. There was still plenty of criminals and criminal acts going on that have yet to be solved and 2 people couldn't do it all on their own....sort of.

It was time to close up at the shop, noticing the purse that was left by miss Rosa, an older woman that lived on the rough side of the neighborhood where Reaper usually operated. Crazy old woman, she lived in that rough neighborhood all her life and refused to leave so to find a better place to live. Solomon knew where she lived and grabbing her purse, he was going to take it back to her home on that side.

Leaving, Solomon didn't know what was going to go down but if there was going to be some action, he'll listen out for it. He's been practicing to hear what he wanted and control the volume. he was walking quickly down the sidewalk while some drunks and homeless people and shady figured looked at this hooded man holding a purse. He was just doing a favor but Solomon hoped that no one would start trouble with him so to not harm anyone at that moment.

[1Hawkeyes]

It felt as though hours of waiting had passed. Agent never really did a stake-out before. Heck, she had only been doing hero work for about four months now.
Ally Estrada created a name and image for her alter ego, Agent, in that short time, and planned to be a role model for others. This stake-out had a lot to do with her image and her own morals. She wanted to meet Reaper again, go understand his methods and possibly get him to think differently. She was a stubborn woman, something common for a young adult almost directly out of adolescence, and doubted she would change her ideas.

Agent watched over the bank, wondering if the information she received was bad. Just as her patience was about to run out, a black van pulled up across the street and parked. It was stopped for a minute before Agent noticed two more vans coming from different directions and parking in parking lots unrelated to the bank. About a dozen men hopped out of all cars, though one stood out.

The figured walked across the street, obviously not afraid of being seen by their bright orange jumpsuit. Agent squeezed her eyes, trying to get a better look. "A woman?" she muttered as the odd woman walked directly to the doors.

The woman held her hands out, shouting something to the others who all took a step back, and shoved her body forward. Out from her palms came bright orange flames. Agent's jaw dropped. She had never seen anyone else with powers, at least not in person. The flame woman signaled the men to enter and they did. Almost forty men streamed into the bank.

Agent dropped down from the roof and stood to the side of the door, avoiding their gaze. No alarms went off, so she assumed they hacked systems beforehand. Damn! Cops won't be here to help me this time! This was going to be the biggest bust Agent had ever performed. Sure she beat groups of thugs almost on a nightly basis, but this was completely different. This was a high-stakes robbery with a super-powered woman. Whether Reaper ended up showing his face or not, Agent knew she had to put everything into this situation.

[Crossfire]

@1Hawkeyes

'What the fuck?' Reaper thought as he observed the gang descend on the bank, and their leader showing off abilities the likes of which he'd never seen.

Nearly forty hostiles, all armed, plus a metahuman. Dangerous situation, almost enough to make Reaper consider waiting it out, he'd track the vans as they left, take them out one by one. It was a risk of some of them getting away, but the odds were in his favor.

And then the kid showed up. She was tenacious, he'd give her that. Stubborn too. And that was going to get her killed.

'Walk away from this one' he thought, desperately hoping she wouldn't make a move. Of course, Agent moved in towards the door, so Reaper's decision was made quickly. He put the van in drive and rolled up closer to the bank, parking by the curb, just across the street. He slipped out of his seat and began to gear up. He was bringing everything- two SIG-26 pistols, Ithaca-37 sawed-off shotgun, G-36 assault rifle, even a pair of grenades. Reaper stepped out of the van and walked up to the door, ready for anything.

[King Tai]

Solomon was continuing on his way to Miss Rosa's home, keeping a firm hold of her purse. Usually if you're a hooded figure with a purse, one would have thought you stole it. There were a few stares and maybe one or two guys either joking or were serious about what he had in the purse.

Ignoring the ones in this neighborhood, he hoped that someone would not be stupid to try and mug him but by the time he thought about that, he was already at the stoop of Miss Rosa's apartment. With a sigh and smelling the cigarette smoke of an older man right next to the door, Solomon walked in, heading down to the elevator and pressing the second floor button.

After making it to the second floor and to Miss Rosa's place, he knocked on the door, waiting for a few moments before the door opened. Heeeey Solomon...what you doing here? "Hi Miss Rosa. I came here to bring you back your purse. You left it at the market." Hm? Oh I did! I was wondering what happened to it. You know this old mind just don't work like it used to. Come on in sweetheart. I have some cookies I baked earlier. Why don't you have some.

"Um well miss Rosa-....oh..umm....alright...I'll have just one okay?" Solomon walked in not noticing what was happening yet until hearing a shout from a distance which caused Solomon to stop for a moment and look in the direction of the window and tilt his head in bewilderment. What was going on out there. Whatever was happening, it was about 3 blocks away from where he was. Solomon turned when Rosa started talking about her late husband and her children that never come and see her while Solomon tried to pay attention to her.

[1Hawkeyes]

Agent couldn't think of any way to get into the bank undetected, so she figured the best way for her to enter would be right through the disfigured front door. Several men stood by the door, guarding it with assault rifles. Agent dropped from the roof and onto the metal overhead, making a soft clicking sound on the roof as she landed. She froze, eyes wide with fear. The heroes in the comics wore heels and it never caused them problems. Why did it mess with her?

Mumbling from the men arose as they looked up at the awning. Agent quickly scrambled for her belt just like she had practiced a million times. She pulled out a colored smoke bomb her family always bought to celebrate Independence Day. They were easily available in bulk, especially on the internet. As her career hadn't really started yet, she didn't have much money to spend on her life as a vigilante, so she settled for cheap fireworks. Agent pulled out a purple smoke bomb and pulled out a "strike anywhere" match. Quickly she ran the head of the match along the rough wall of the bank, lighting it. She placed the flame against the fuse, praying it would not be a dud.

As the men began to step outside, turning their heads towards the awning, Agent tossed the firework through the doorway. The men pointed their guns at it as smoke poured out of the sphere and quickly filled the entrance. Agent grabbed the edge of the awning and swung into the scene. She used her momentum kick the closet man, knocking him flat on his back.

Agent's heart raced faster than it ever had before. She was surrounded by criminals with semi-automatic rifles with no protection but about five thin sheets of Kevlar sewn into her suit. Not only that, but she still had no idea how resistant her skin would be from bullets. The men turned to her direction, their guns following. Agent lept forward, sending her fist smashing right into the solar plexus of the man. Her blow was slightly cushioned by the thick bullet-proof vest under his black shirt. Nevertheless, the force of her blow was too much for the man who crumbled to the floor in agony. She continued her forward assault, sending her elbow up into her next target's jaw. He fell beside his partner. Agent aimed a kick at the next criminal but felt the cold metal of a gun across her throat. The man behind her applied more pressure to her neck, trying his best to choke her. Her heart nearly stopped as it became hard to swallow. Another criminal appeared from the smoke and slammed his own fist into her ribs. It stung, but her reaction must not have been what he expected. He hit her again, putting more force, but it didn't hurt much. He then sent a flurry of punches to her body, angered by her apparent invincibility. Agent began to struggle to breathe as the pressure front the gun mounted. She grabbed the gunman's hands and squeezed as hard as she could. Popping sounded off in her ears as he screamed in pain. The gun fell to the floor. The man punching her seemed to ignore his partner's screams as he continued his furious assault. Agent decided she had enough of him and slammed her head against his. He dropped to the ground, a bump quickly forming on his forehead. The smoke began to clear and Agent peered inside.

The woman in the orange walked behind the counters, most likely looking for the big vault. Many of her thugs stuffed money into bags behind the thick bullet-proof glass. Most of them weren't armed with assault rifles like the guards, but had pistol holsters strapped to their hips. The ten or so guards scattered throughout the bank were turned to the door, guns aimed straight for the clearing smoke, fingers on the triggers.

[Crossfire]

Reaper reached the front door of the bank. He'd admit it, he was impressed by how well the young lady handled herself, but she was still going about it all wrong. So once again, he'd bail her out.

Without a word to Agent, Reaper racked a load into his shotgun, pulled the pin on the flashbang grenade he held, then flung it in through the doorway. With a loud pop and harried exclamations coming from inside, he knew it was time to move, he slipped around the door and brought his shotgun up, taking aim at his first target.

A crack like thunder resounded through the lobby as the man was thrown backwards, his torso ripped wide open by the buckshot. In a panic, the blinded crooks turned on the source of the noise and opened fire. Reaper was just able to leap sideways over a counter before he was torn to shreds. A bullet or two grazed by his arm, he grunted at the initial sting and did his best to shrug it off- the pain could wait.

[King Tai]

Hearing Miss Rosa going on and on about the family reunion and other family based events that have happened, Solomon smirked and nodded just smiling before turning his head towards the window, hearing the buckshot go off. What the hell? Solomon was bewildered from the sound before hearing a little more from the area while training in on the sounds coming from that direction. Whatever was happening, Solomon felt he needed to get involved.

He turned to Miss Rosa. "Miss Rosa, I'm sorry to cut this short but...i have an emergency. You take care and I'll see you later. Thanks for the milk and cookies." he nodded before rushing towards the window. Oh! Thank you for bringing my purse, sweetheart. Love ya,
kid. Solomon smirked before jumping out the window and Miss Rosa thinking about how reckless kids are these days jumping out the window.

Solomon headed up to the top of the building before running across roof tops for a few moments. He tried to listen out for the gunshots that were not far off until getting about a half block away and making his way down to street level to notice the back that looked broken into. "So this was the noise I heard earlier. I bet those two are here again." Thinking about the two heroes. Solomon pointed his ear to the bank hearing other's talking. Not only voices but many many heartbeats. Shit! How many people are in here? Solomon peeked around the corner to see what was happening.

[1Hawkeyes]

@King Tai @Crossfire

Agent was facing away from the door, so she was not able to see who threw the flashbang. In all honesty, she initially thought it was a frag grenade, considering her lack of experience with army-like weapons. So, when the flashbang went off, Agent was temporarily blinded. The young heroine dove to the side, hoping she didn't crack her skull on a desk.

When she finally regained her sight, she was greeted by seeing Reaper massacre one of the assault rifle carriers. Although she had witnessed him shoot people with pistols not so long ago, this was... different. This man was mutilated and Agent had no idea how to feel. Sure, Reaper was stopping the bank robbers, but whose side was he truly on? She considered the flashbang, realizing without Reaper's intervention, she might have been easy target practice. Then again, the exposed chest bleeding out on the floor told her a different story.

Agent pushed these thoughts aside for a moment, seeing all fire shift to Reaper. It appeared as though he might have been wounded, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was the heavy fire was focused on Reaper, and if she didn't do something soon he would be done.

Thinking as quickly as possible, Agent got up from her crouched position and lifted the wooden desk she used as cover. Most guards did not notice, too preoccupied by shooting at Reaper, but some turned to check, stopping their fire. Agent could easily pick up the desk, but throwing it would be another thing. She launched it at a group of three guards, knocking them down and crushing some of their limbs.

Now the fire shifted from Reaper to her. Agent again dove being a new desk, wishing she had more ranged attacks than throwing a desk. She couldn't check to see how many guards were left, but guessed about five. "Be quicker!" she cursed at herself, lighting another smoke bomb and throwing it towards the area between Reaper and his attackers. She hoped the screen would buy him enough time to regain grounds in the fight.