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    1. TheWizardLizard 10 yrs ago

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Interested.
Collab with @DJAtomika

The sound of sirens filled the air not a minute after the young man finished his call, a speedy response by anyone’s standards. From the floor, the injured man spluttered something, erupting back into consciousness and crawling away from the door. “No! They’re coming now!”

Dark-haired college student and bar regular Josephine approached the man slowly, putting her phone back in her pocket a moment after finishing her text. “Sir, you need to see a doctor, you’re hurt -”

He grabbed at her arm, pulling her down to his level. ‘“If they find what I have, everyone will die!”

Alex pushed the man’s arm down with one arm and kept the young lady away with the other.

”What is it? What do you have?! I swear, if you’re bringing trouble to my pub-”

He was interrupted by the man grabbing at him and pulling him down instead. The injured man’s other hand was groping at his chest - for a moment, it looked like he might be trying to cover a wound, but he pulled it out a moment later and pressed it into Alex’s chest. As he opened his hand, it was revealed as a small, bloodstained USB drive.

With a slam, the bar door was kicked open, and three men in dark suits filed in, pointing pistols around the place. “Everyone get on the ground! This doesn’t concern you!”

That’s about when the Dragoness showed up.

From outside, above the roof, all she could see was three men in suits getting out of an unmarked black van and bursting into the bar. I don’t know about you, but those don’t look like police to me.

“Agreed,” she said, and banked her wings into a dive. She landed just behind the doorway, cracking the sidewalk a little bit, and stretched her wings out. “Hey boys,” she said, “What do you say we put the guns down and talk this out?”

Without quite understanding why, Alex grabbed onto the man’s hand and held onto it. He felt the USB drive being pressed into his palm and, before he knew it, his hand fell away again. As the man fell into unconsciousness, he stuffed the drive into his pocket as three mysterious men in suits burst into the pub. He didn’t leave the injured man’s side, keeping his crumpled apron firmly pressed against the bullet holes in his chest.

”Oi! And who the bloody ‘ell gave you the authority to kick my door open and wave those guns around, eh? I’m the owner, and I’ll need to see some ID before-”

Alex was interrupted by the appearance of a winged lady slamming into the pavement outside his bar. He looked up to see what appeared to be some sort of cartoon character straight out of a comic book, asking the armed men to put away their weapons. Not wanting to expose himself as another super and show these men just how outclassed they were, he kept quiet. His hands kept pressure on the bleeding man’s wounds, though he knew that he wasn’t going to survive long without proper emergency care.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the armed men’s response to the superheroine landing a few feet behind them was to open fire. Eliza pulled her wings around to cover her front, the low-caliber handgun bullets pinging off them, as a great uproar emerged from inside the bar and the patrons began stampeding towards the side entrance. Eliza! Keep the shooting away from the bar!

“I know!” she shouted, and dashed towards the closest assailant. She batted his gun aside with a wing before delivering a massive haymaker to his face, boosting herself into the air and sending him flying through the glass window of the bar. “Shit, sorry!”

Seeing their comrade sent flying with a single blow, the other two stopped firing and sprinted in opposite directions. One of them looked to be running for the van they’d arrived in, while the other hustled into the bar, pointing his gun at the owner who was still holding the injured man. “Get on the ground, now!”

Alex was briefly startled by the smashing glass as one of the three men in suits flew through the front window of the pub. He shook his fist at the leotard-clad lady and yelled at her.

”Oy! People have to pay for this shite ya know!”

He held his ground, not intimidated by the other gunman in the slightest. His priority was keeping the injured man safe, so he took his hands slowly off the apron held to his chest and moved in front of the unconscious man. His feet firmly on the floor, he stood up, presenting his full height and strength to this gunman.

”Come then. Shoot me, if you’re really that bloody into it.”

The response was three shots with military precision, chest chest head. The bullets pinged off Alex with a shrill whizzing sound, making the attacker recoil and stumble back from the miraculously unharmed man.

Eliza slammed onto the hood of the van as the one attacker with the good sense to flee got behind the wheel, covering his face with his hands to protect him from the shards of windshield that showered him. “I don’t think so, chief,” Eliza muttered, reaching a claw in to hook him by the shirt and drag him out of the vehicle.

Alex didn’t even flinch as the bullets crumpled into his chest and fell harmlessly off. He looked down at the holes in his shirt and back up at the gunman, absently brushing off some dust from his chest.

”And what did that do for ya, you gobshite?”

He strode forward, grabbed the man’s gun by the barrel and held on as he pulled the trigger. The sheer force of him holding onto the gun prevented anything from moving, much to his attacker’s horror. With no visible effort, he crumpled the barrel like it was made of paper, yanked the entire thing out of the gunman’s hand and tossed it out of the pub. It was followed shortly by the gunman himself, after Alex had grabbed him by the collar and chucked him through the already-broken window. The big Brit stepped through the broken glass and onto the pavement, towering over the fallen gunman.

”You come into my pub, shoot a man, and you think you can get away with it? Not bloody likely, arsehole.”

He bent down and grabbed the man by the collar again, lifting him up with one hand while threatening a punch with the other.

”Tell me: who are you workin’ for? Else you want yer face splattered against the fockin’ pavement.”

The man waved his hands in front of his face, eyes squeezed shut. “No, no, no, don’t ask me -” His voice was interrupted by a sharp sizzling noise as his whole body began to convulse, his right eye twitching rapidly. A moment later, he went limp, the smell of burned electronics emanating from his corpse.

A similar dead body skidded to a halt at Alex’s feet as the Dragoness stepped away from the car. Some sort of self-destruct. Whoever sent these men did not want them to be questioned.

“Yeah, I got that,” Eliza murmured, mindless of the fact that anyone hearing her would think she was responding to nothing. Her attention was currently fixed on the much more interesting fact that the unassuming owner of the Iron Throne had just crumpled up a gun with his bare hands. “So, uh, any idea what that was about?”
(it’s your turn pal)
Alex let go of the corpse as it fizzled and sparked and the man died. He glanced at the young lady who threw another similar corpse at his feet and shrugged.

”No bloody idea. What I do know is that you’re paying me back for that window, young lady. As much as I’d love to find out what these idiots were up to, I’ve also got a business to run...and another guy in there that’s dying. Shite.”

Without pause, Alex rushed back into the pub and went for the man that had been shot. He skidded to a stop next to him and resumed the pressure on his chest.

”Oy! Stay with me! You still there?!”

The Dragoness followed after him, the sarcastic comment about paying him back dying on her lips as she was reminded about the man in mortal danger. He didn’t stir from his unconscious state, even as Alex resumed pressure and shouted in his face, though Eliza could see the shallow rising and falling of his chest. “We need to get him medical attention,” she observed tersely, “And something tells me there’s something to the ‘no hospitals’ thing. Do you have any ideas?”

I know of a wiseman in India who possessed my necklace for some time. He had remarkable healing abilities, and a noble soul.

“Alright, that’s a good fallback,”Eliza mumbled.

”Lady, I have no idea about how to treat him without a doctor. If you have a better idea, now’s the time.”

Eliza chewed her bottom lip, a habit she’d been trying to break - it was a little undignified for a half-dragon superhero. “Alright, I have an idea. But you’re not going to like it.”
@MegaOscarPwn

By all means, go nuts!
Sorry for the pause, I've been a bit swamped with family stuff! So, yeah, from here on, you guys can kinda take it in whatever direction you want - I'll step in when I need to to move the plot along, but y'all have a lot of freedom in where you go from here.
@DJAtomika

Not necessarily, I feel like your original post was fine. Let me know if you want to collab the next part, so Eliza can arrive and you can have a bit more dialogue with the guy!


Eliza. You're falling asleep.

Eliza jerked her head back up, heavy-lidded eyes fluttering as they refocused on the Social Psych powerpoint at the bottom of the lecture hall. The professor's voice continued to drone on, a one-note dirge that was impossible to separate into any kind of words or information.

"No'm not," she muttered underneath her breath.

Yes, you are. Tharinoq's voice carried an obvious chord of amusement. Late night catching up with you?

"You're a dick."

Would you like me to give you a synopsis of what you've missed? Professor Foster has been in top form today.

Eliza groaned and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. All around her, her classmates were in similar states of catatonia, lulled into near-unconsciousness by the lullaby of boredom emanating from the front of the room. Of course, she'd probably be doing better at staying awake if she hadn't been flying around the city last night looking for trouble, but... what if trouble came about while she wasn't looking for it? Idly, her hand came up to her neck and brushed against the amulet she wore hidden underneath her floral pajama t-shirt. Some things were more important.

Her phone buzzed as if on cue, and like any good youth she pulled it out automatically. The text was from her roommate Josie, her best friend and the only person who knew about her double life as a winged crime-fighter, mainly because there was no keeping the secret after she'd saved her from being devoured by a giant toothy mass of horribleness.

yo E a guy just came into the throne

there's a lot of blood

he said not to call 911

i think you should get over here


The last text had barely arrived by the time Eliza was stuffing her books into her bag. The Throne was her friends' favorite bar in town - Josie and Eliza were still too young to drink (legally), of course, but the food was still nice. Nothing particularly exciting ever happened there, but this wasn't an improvement.

If we change in the alleyway, we can get there in six minutes.

"Five," she muttered, throwing her bag over her shoulder and marching out of the lecture hall.

@The Bork Lazer

You can control him to an extent, but I should probably give you a heads up that my collab with @MegaOscarPwn is almost up, so you may wish to wait for that to see where things lay. The main thing is that the story's not ready for him to die, but otherwise you can do whatever.

@DJAtomika

Pretty bad, he's been shot about three times in the chest.
@DJAtomika

Yeah, that's totally fine. Feel free to name the bar, as well!

@MegaOscarPwn

Absolutely, that makes sense. You can go ahead and PM me the scene-setter, and then we can go from there!
And with that, Eliza will be en route to the Bar. I think I'll have her get notified about it by a text from a friend who's clued into her secret identity and head over there, so she won't be on scene when the guy arrives.
Correct, it's New York. About half in reference to the fact that superhero stories are always in New York and half because I'm originally from the state of New York IRL so it's the city I know the best.
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