Tick, Tock [Prelude to Daredevil vs Bullseye] [Open]

[webdevil]

Three months.

Three months and Daredevil hadn't heard so much as a whisper. Three months since one of the most brutal holiday massacres upstate occured at the hands of Bullseye. Daredevil vaulted over a rooftop railing in one hop and using it as a springboard, swan dived into the deep New York chasm. He thought back to the bodies being hauled in on Christmas and the sole survivor. Daredevil hurled a long thin composite cable from the billy club at his side and used the sudden stop to gently land in a shoulder roll onto a slow moving bus as it cut across 11th. The cable fully retracted when he thought about the last time Elektra came to town for her occasional... Itch.

"He's getting impatient. I wondered why he would follow me to Toronto when his obsession is here..."

Impatient? Why? He never waited this long before whenever his need to kill the crimson clad hero became all consuming. Unless he was in prison. But given their last encounter in Hellzone, that Daredevil found was unlikely.

"Where are you..." The Man Without Fear spoke aloud.

[webdevil]

"Ya see, Grotto? Tol'ya he was gunna go fer it!" came the dulcet tones of Turk Barrett, who was carrying a crowbar under his arm. He and Grotto were arguably the worst criminals New York had to offer and yet like all cockroaches, they never seemed to go away. Grotto grunted in reluctant acknowledgement. The two were just outside of an old brownstone that was clearly well kept for New York standards in Chelsea. Just outside of their haunt in Hell's Kitchen, Grotto felt positively naked out here. Turk, by contrast, seemed to have gained a sense of bravado since Christmas that made his head even bigger than usual.

Grotto was a short, squat man, Caucasian, and looked like four miles of bad road. He wasn't exactly dating material and to be fair, he began to wonder if there was a day he ever was even after a dozen or so beers at Josie's. By contrast, Turk, as he stepped up to the door and began feeding the crowbar into the door, was a tall, lean, dark skinned man who looked like he was perpetually punch drunk. The last part about his appearance might be true given how often he was used as a punching bag by the caped community. Lately Turk would boast he had a job as the inside man for the mad assassin known as Bullseye, but like all things Turk said, Grotto thought it was a load of crap. Just like this job: Turk informed Grotto he got word down from old man Slaughter that he was looking to get back in the game in the wake of the Devils causing mayhem in the Kitchen for the Fat Man. Grotto blanched at this idea, but if Slaughter was going to come out of retirement, this seemed the way to go:

Rumor was their target, some middle class college chick, was one of the members of the Devils - an angry mob of punks bordering on a cult dressed in crummy Daredevil costumes and beat the crap out of every criminal and even normies they saw, some of whom ended up dead - and that Slaughter was looking to send a message. More likely Slaughter was paid and his only contacts left were him and Turk. Still, ten grand cash up front apiece was enough to get them out in this part of town.

"Yo, keepa lookout!" snapped Turk as he began to wrench away at the door. Grotto turned around and looked up, down, and around. It was quiet here. That worried him.

[stormshadow]

Jack O'Lantern

Jack needed some money; he gambled a Hugh chunk of his money on a shit coin in crypto. He found out that Bullseye had a bounty. He used one of his C.I.A contacts to help him find one of Bullseyes lackies. " What do we have here? Looks... like someone needs a housewarming gift." He leaves and proceeds to his target about five minutes travel on his fast-flying disk.

Jack slowly moves into the area tracking his target with GPS. The almost completely silent whine of his flying disk increased in the sound as he approached quickly. He recently escaped jail after a year locked up. He was injured and captured because of Bullseye's lame plan went wrong. The Original Hobgoblin could not get his inside men to kill him... Jack survived. No luck finding out who the Original Hobgoblin was yet. Anyway...Time to make some money.

Jack found a house that the tracker pinpointed in on. " I would do this quietly but no fun in that. Oh, a tow truck." He drops in behind the tow truck driver as he is hooking up a small electric car. Then shocks the driver with enough volts to knock him out. He tosses the unconscious tow truck driver into the back of the tow truck. He hears some music playing on the radio station and turns it up inside the cab. ♪ "Down with the sickness"♪ He reaches back and pulls out a pumpkin bomb with hallucinogens in it. And then proceeds by tossing it into the house where his target is. Jack then grabs hold of the tow truck struggling a bit then proceeds to throw it up into the air into the same house. He quickly jumps onto his disk and proceeds to the house. "Ding Dong... Mother F@ckers... Ding Dong. HahaHaha... I hope you like my housewarming gift!!"


Reference from when he was injured and captured. { marvelheroesrpg.proboards.com/thread/10129/cold-dark-open-martyr }

[webdevil]

Grotto screamed which caused Turk to turn. His eyes widened and then instinct took over. Too late. The Pumpkin Bombs exploded with an ear-splitting BANG that caused several lights in the neighbourhood within seconds. Aw nuts, this is a bust, thought Turk.

"Cmmon Grotto, we gott- -" claimed Turk before going flat once again as a tow truck came flying right at them. He left Grotto to his fate but the impact complete eviscerated the stoop right in front of them and well into the sitting room. Within seconds, Turk was buried under several mounds of debris, unable to move. He couldn't see, coughing wildly. Slaughter didn't pay him to get sniped by Pumpkin Head! He expected Daredevil, the real one, maybe even a couple of idiots in the Red Man's hood to jump him as soon as he got through the door, but not this!

Several blocks over, Daredevil heard the screams, shouts, and of course, explosions. Pumpkin Bombs had a very distinct whisper in the wind. Oh no, not again, he thought and immediately headed southeast. For weeks, he and the rest of the city's Defenders had been embroiled with the Hobgoblin managing to recruit the child soldiers Norman Osborn recruited as part of his "Goblins" gang during Hellzone and gave them military grade weapons. Between this gang and the many citizen mobs wearing his mask and going around attacking literally everybody - citizen and criminal alike - with even a slight connection to Wilson Fisk for reasons he had yet to ascertain, it felt like Hellzone had returned to the streets of Hell's Kitchen but with less property damage.

Until now it seemed. The sound that followed the Pumpkin Bombs was the sound of a large vehicle, probably an SUV or a pickup - - no - -

clinkclinkfwwwing

That was the sound of a chain. A crane!? Tow truck perhaps?

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!

He was easily a solid 20 minutes away even at his top speed, but he could easily sense a Goblin of some sort (there were many) just tossed a tow truck at somebody and hit one of the buildings. Then a scream and footsteps, a woman's from the light tapping amidst the scrambling debris along with several other grunts. Must be Spider-Man getting into it again. If so, there could be casualties. Daredevil leapt gracefully off the rooftop's ledge he just came to in a perfect arch, firing his Billy Club cable at just the ring time and swang through the concrete jungle into the night.

[stormshadow]

Jack O'Lantern



Jack quickly tosses about three exploding pumpkins in three different houses nearby with precision to catch them on fire to make time for when cops arrive or a hero. Jack moves back in near the tow truck leaping down and immediately starts chucking rubble out of the way looking for what comes up on his scanners as three heat sources. He finds one seeming to fight for his life, he then proceeds to try and shock the body back to a concisions state. Jack smirks as one seems to be sneaking up behind him unaware, he has 360 degrees view.

"Where are you hiding at... and who are your friends, I say in the least?" in the background a new song comes on. ♪'Standing in a nice dress... Your wildest dreams' ♪ Jack shakes his head no. "Are you kidding me right now? My moment of triumph and their playing Taylor Swift. Kanye was right." Jack continues looking for the third body while watching the one behind him nearby.

Jack knows they are going to have company soon; he needs all three to question. Bullseye is the target of his inquiry. He figures the confusion buys him time, a few early arrivers and up to 20 minutes easy before a large rescue team shows up. "I'll make this easy as possible first person who gives me the correct information on Bullseye can leave and I will not hunt you down!!!"

[shadejak]

Bullseye had picked up some intel from Turk and some things from Ulrich and a Mister D about these "Devils" that had been going around trying to play hero. First he'd barely thought some upper-middle class college kids weren't worth his time unless he was giving a message to Red, after all, he wasn't Kassidy.

Then he heard about them wearing cheap knock-offs of HIS costume. Wrecking shit. Breaking into stores and beating up the owners and robbing them blind, assaulting random people on the street all in some dumbass delusion they were the heroes here. The last part, again, Bullseye wouldn't care about unless one of them was fetching for a nice price but the part about them wearing Red's horns n' colors, well that was something he couldn't forgive.

They weren't him. They had no right to think themselves him. They were petulant, entitled little shits who thought putting on hoods and screaming in the streets made them special, somehow. Wearing the horns, wearing the red, that put them between Red and himself.

Bullseye had geared up. Of course, with the mindless acts of self-righteous outrage these punks were supposedly making, he could improvise just as well, but his best stuff would be for when HE inevitably showed up. He always did, and if that little Christmas gift didn't help, Bullseye didn't know what would.

He was right on both accounts as he made his way to where he'd send his next message, a group of the Devils were just... setting things ablaze, breaking windows, screaming obscenities as Bullseye promptly dropped down from his last perch before them.

"You're the Devil 'imself, right, ya little shits?! Come an' PROVE IT!" he shouted, arms spread in full confidence as he stood in plain view of them.

"SHIT! IT'S HIM!" some weedy runt who reminded him of the kid he put a bullet between the eyes of on Christmas Eve screeched in a panic as he tried to flee, but Bullseye cut him down with a well-aimed shard of glass he'd grabbed off the ground in the blink of an eye to the back of the head.

Others were less fearful, yammering about there being plenty of them and one of him and tried to engage, but Bullseye without missing a beat swept his arm as more glass shards tore through their cheap costumes and into their vitals, the assassin grinning in a wide sneer that seemed to show all his teeth as they dropped like flies. Bullseye's hands were now empty though as one particularly ballsy kid approached with a bat.

"Haha! We know you! You're nothing without something to throw!" the kid sneered, swinging his bat only for Bullseye to grab it with his hand, then turn it to smash into the boy's nose, then deliver a few punches to his kidneys followed by a knee that winded him to the ground.

"Dunno who fed ya that bullshit, kid!" Bullseye said with a chuckle, watching the college boy recoil from the pain he was in while circling him like a predator moving in for the kill, digging his foot under the fallen bat and sending it into the air to his hand, promptly snapping it in two across his knee, flinging one half through the boy's gaping mouth, the sharp end exiting out the back of his skull.

"Been 'while since I used one'a these!" Bullseye smirked, flinging the other half into the spine of one portly Devil who was trying to crawl away and she went down fast. Taking out his phone, Bullseye prepared to call Turk and let him know he was on the way when loud crashes and explosions were heard, nearby... right where he was heading...

"Well, f**k me!" Bullseye said. Either those Devils had armed up or those rumors about Slaughter had been more serious then expected.

Arriving at his destination, Bullseye discovered to his surprise another Devil, this one significantly more comely then the others he'd seen, to his surprise. Despite her looks, Bullseye was certain Red's little on-and-off squeeze had way more dignity then to go around mimicking his gimmick. No, it was just some college kid who judging by her still amateur costume knew her body was her best asset as she froze in place at the sight of him, her phone she'd been talking into falling from her hand to the pavement, her corpse soon after as Bullseye re-holstered his Mauser. He looked at the site she was streaming from and scrunched his nose. He was really getting sick of this.

The man heard loud, bombastic talking within the establishment, and Turk's, the loud voice calling his name of all things and prompting the assassin to crack his neck a bit before advancing, stepping on and over the deceased Devil's corpse and crushing her phone beneath his boot as she was no longer of any concern of his, Bullseye stepped inside.

"Well, I'll be damned! Lookin' for me, pumpkin-head?" he asked with a laugh when he saw none other then Jack-O-Lantern was the one threatening Turk. "An' here I thought the night was gonna bore me till Red shows up!"

[webdevil]

In all his years in this life, Turk Barrett never thought he'd see a day where he'd be grateful for Bullseye to arrive. But when you're trapped under two plus tons of tow truck, at least he thinks it's a tow truck, anything to take the pressure off when the dude who threw it was a dink with a flaming pumpkin head! Turk began to shift his weight and jerk, looking to find Grotto. He spotted him wedged in the windshield like a really big bug caught in the wipers. Turk winced at the gnarly scene. He didn't want to know how bad he looked by comparison, but seeing as his vision was not blurred at the edges, he probably wasn't as worse for wear. His hearing seemed to be good too as he heard what Bullseye was saying:

"Well, I'll be damned! Lookin' for me, pumpkin-head?"

That was definitely Bullseye.

"An' here I thought the night was gonna bore me till Red shows up!"

What? Bullseye was trying to draw DAREDEVIL here? Is he crazy!? Look at this mess! Not to mention the crazy man with the pumpkin head! This was far beyond what he signed Grotto and he up for!

[stormshadow]

Jack O'lantern


Jack was about to turn to a familiar person when someone arrived nearby. He was about to reach over and grab the thick sliver steel tow truck chain. He caught a glimpse of someone approaching fast. Jack paused for a second. Jack slowly began to realize who was standing before him.

"Well, I'll be damned! Lookin' for me, pumpkin-head?"

"Speak of the devil, and his advisory arrives. Hahaha...Well look what we have here. Wow... Nah your fast. I was not expecting a simple gift so fast!!!" Jack tilted his head to the right as yellow flames erupted from his mask. His voice was Booming out an eerie scary voice that can resonate.

"An' here I thought the night was gonna bore me till Red shows up!"

He was thinking about his next move the Turk guy was none of his concern at the present time. Jack quickly tosses a hallucinogen bomb in the direction of Bullseye. He then quickly released the thick steal chain from the truck and proceeds to swing it towards Bullseye with ruthless intent going for an arm or leg letting loose of the chain. He looks over toward the Turk guy for a split second then moves in towards Bullseye quickly with a follow up two punch combo, a straight right hand and a left hook attack with left hand gauntlet.

"What is a matter Bullseye you lost your edge? Does not really matter because this time you die. Only the strong survive!!!"

[Rift]

In theory the mission was simple. Find the target, disable and subdue the target, and bring the target back fpr questioning if possible.

No mission was ever that simple.

For starters the target was a premiere assassin, one so deadly the briefing included a folder's worth of crime scene photos that had bodies broken, mangled, and impaled with nearly any object that could be picked up. Sure Bullseye was not one of the costumes that threatened world domination, tried to blow up the city semi-annually, or otherwise make the news alongside the likes of Iron Man and Captain America, but that didn't mean a trail of the dead didn't follow in his wake. Hell, even John Walker the U.S. Agent had not managed to apprehend him during a recent debacle in Madripoor. The whole affair had failed to go Uncle Sam's way. It was not a complete disaster, but nobody involved in the incident had managed to get what they wanted.

And if U.S. Agent couldn't nab him, a tough as nails soldier who used to actually be Captain America, I don't know what they expect me to do, a dark figure thought as it landed atop a water tower.

Not you. US. We will find him and make him pay. Together we are unstoppable. replied the symbiote.

Flash Thompson sighed. The self-confident former quarterback was not doubting his abilities alone, he was unsure of his unofficial partner. More and more lately it seemed the drugs that had kept the symbiote under control and largely silent were not doing the job as effectively. Honeyed words whispered in his mind meant that Venom while still behaving, was not dormant. Lately the symbiote was pushing the idea of the pair being a partnership rather than the adversarial nature of their pairing, but Thompson had seen how the likes of Eddie Brock fared while supposedly cooperating with the creature. It could lie and would to get its way.

"Agent Venom to control, thus far the patrol has turned up nothing. Already visited most of the known locations subject has utilized in the past and got squat. I'll do another couple passes of..."

Before he could finish his report, a series of explosions rocked the area. Smoke and flame rose in the near distance.

"We've got explosions in the area. Gonna swing by and see what's going on."

"Affirmative, but remember Agent Venom, you are on a timetable. Just because we are letting you run around in your backyard this time doesn't mean it is time for you to play hero. You have a mission first and foremost and you are working for us, not for the Avengers or any of the other tight squads out there."

"Understood control. Venom out." he replied.

As he swung towards the disturbance, Venom spoke to him once more. But you are a hero Flash. On the fields, both football and battle. Lost your legs doing the right thing. Can't expect you to not be you. If not for them we could be heroes on our terms. We could be like Captain America.

Or like Spider-Man! Flash responded, shutting down the attempted mind game and knowing that the angry writhing of the symbiote would be worth it. At least he'd get some peace and quiet as he investigated the explosion.

Landing on a nearby rooftop he quickly took stock of the situation. Multiple idiots dressed like Dollar Store versions of Daredevil were engaged with Bullseye, all while a pumpkin headed villain flew about overhead tossing out bombs.

This must be what it feels like to be Spidey, he thought, drawing another shudder of anger from his partner.

Flipping onto a wall he fired off a strand of webbing, yanking a Devil back and away from where Jack and Bullseye were squaring off. There was no point in civilians getting caught in the middle of this nonsense, even if they were acting like Halloween had come early.

Shouting, the symbiote amplifying his voice, Agent Venom announced himself. "Attention all costumed idiots, lay down your weapons and back off! I'm only here for the assassin. The rest of you can continue this weird little Daredevil themed comi-con somewhere else. And you, Spirit Halloween incarnate? Dartboard Head is coming with me."

[shadejak]

Bullseye had managed to get away from the range of Jack-o-Lantern's bomb; Dex was far from stupid enough to be close enough to things that went boom, even with his adamantium skeleton he didn't exactly have the claw boy's healing factor to fall back on if he was poisoned or got the entire front half his flesh burned off.

Yet in his effort to avoid the explosion and what burst from it, Bullseye saw the chain fly through the cloud, thrusting his arm in front of him as it wrapped around his wrist with a sharp tug and his opponent leapt through delivering several punches to him.

No heal factor, but the metal over his bones sure as hell helped.

Bullseye cackled as he took the punches, they still hurt but they weren't gonna put him on the ground any time soon. "My words exactly, Jackie ol' boy! It's why I'm still alive n' kickin'!" he sneered. As if to make that point, he swung his leg to strike his opponent to try and knock him down, giving his wrapped arm a sharp tug of his own to pull him off balance. He may have been at close range, now, but Bullseye was far from helpless. Turk's sudden, and rather amusing arrival made him crack a bloody grin, but he paid him little mind, right now it was eyes on the fight at hand.

It was then another made their presence, shouting in a reverberating voice and Bullseye's piercing blue eyes turned towards its source, a figure on a low rooftop. He knew he was talking about him, and this fight was about to get even more interesting.

"Oh ho ho! A threesome, now, is it? Everyone wants a piece'a ol' Bullseye tonight don't they?" he said with a loud, cocky laugh. "C'mon down, there's plenty'a me to go around!"

Immediately, Bullseye used his free hand to slide a knife from one of his holsters, but then throwing it past Jack. The knife soared past the pumpkin-headed man and into the tow truck's window, shattering it with a loud crack and embedding itself into a cushion within. Bullseye wasted no time to promptly turn himself, yanking himself free of the chain and making a run for it into an alley, away from the line of fire, letting the chain wrap the rest of itself around his arm for later use. Whoever wished to pursue, he'd already gotten a few throwing stars ready for an ambush...

[webdevil]

Daredevil was almost within range of the source of the noise when it all went dead. Sounds from all directions firing upon him at once. He gripped his skull, trying (unsuccessfully) to block out the noise. Late night construction coupled with the underground subway. He must've been on autopilot, determined to get to the source of the commotion so far off that he didn't pay attention to the mundane until he needed his Radar Sense to gauge the negative space.

And it was vast.

He went to one knee and began shaking his head as if he was a dog with water in his ears. Breathe, Murdock, breathe. He began to remove the sounds in his eyes one by one until all he could hear was barely six feet in all directions. This took minutes longer than he wished, by which time any chance of intervening was long gone. Dammit!

Then a whiff of rust and salt fell across his nose as he tilted his head downward. Blood. He focused his Radar outwards briefly one more time, straining as the sounds and vibrations threatened to overwhelm his senses again. Gone. He cursed himself and then reeled in his Radar back towards the smell of blood below. Anchoring his billy club on the ledge, he repelled down the side of red brick and mortar into the window below. The advantage of some of these older buildings was not only a place to find foot holes but (he pressed gently against the glass at the right place and was relieved to find the latch opened) was able to slip inside unimpeded.

Now Daredevil could smell the blood mixed with the bleach and ammonia that caked the surface of the hard wood beneath his feet. Careful not to stand where the wood would creak, he began flitting around the apartment. Judging from the lack of negative space, this seemed to be recent. He felt his toe stub on something that rolled. Bucket. And the falling mop handle sliced through the air, caught deftly in seconds. Sloshing fluid still in it.

creeeeak.

Daredevil's Radar had known what was behind the door but he subconsciously ignored it to focus on his immediate surroundings. Male. Middle aged. Grease. Super, most likely.

Two heartbeats passed and he was off like a bullet. Daredevil caught him before he made seven paces, slamming him into the wall face first, arm pinned behind his back.

"GEROFF! GERROFF!" he cried, trying to muster whatever was left of his dignity.

"What's your hurry, fella?" snarled Daredevil, twisted the arm into a chicken wing and causing the man to squeal.

"DO- - OK! DON'T HURT ME MAN! DON'T - -"

The door to an adjacent unit opened, a woman's voice coming incoherently from the door until they saw the crimson costume and instantly fell silent.

"Go back inside, Miss," said Daredevil in a controlled calm. The woman closed the door, allowing him to focus back on the man.

"Start talking or you will need to be making some very important calls soon; and word has it Ambulances are having longer and longer wait times since their policy updates," he snarled.

After another moment or two, the man stopped struggling. After another moment, Daredevil loosened his grip. The man straightened up and turned around, the fight or the impulse to run gone.

"What happened in here?" asked Daredevil, the note of steel was still in his voice.

"Tch. Murder is what," said the Super. "Come up to answer the forty phone calls from tenants complaining about a smell coming from 6A that I had to check - next thing I know door was haphazardly refitted on its hinges and I got a corpse caked in blood and stabbed thru the chest with a laptop! Jeez Louise even in this town with all you crazy masked jerks, how the hell do you stab someone with a frickin' laptop!?"

Daredevil's blood turned to ice as the man asked this question.

"A man with a sick sense of humor," replied Daredevil. The Super rolled his eyes. "When did this happen?"

"Tch. A frickin' week ago! Was all over the news! Anyways, whatever, must've been fighting Doctor Doom or sumthin'. Next thing I got a bunch of homicide detectives crawling up my ass about a stiff in my building claiming to have been dead for weeks before I even opened the door and scare off half my tenants! More frickin' texts about how they couldn't even take a dump without some uniform threatening to arrest them! Blegh! Never had this much trouble. Finally they allow me to clean up the mess after fighting them and the city so I can get a new occupant! Barely just finished cleaning the blood and got the shit the cops didn't take before you showed up and nearly broke my frickin' arm!"

"Who was the tenant?" asked Daredevil.

"Girl named Tiffany. Tiffany Little. College kid. ESU, I think. Never had a problem with her, always paid the rent on time. Bit of a freak but hey she never brought that shit around my building so I don't got nothing to complain about," said the Super.

"Freak how?"

"Hey, you ever been to college, Hornhead? You know how they get. Stupid, sex, think themselves activists trying to shove whatever bullshit down people's throats. But she didn't mess around here so whatever. Kept to herself mostly, actually," said the Super with a touch of impatience in his voice.

Daredevil's face remained impassive. Bullseye was out there right now being chased all over New York, yet his bodies were piling up right along the way. He could spend all night trying to pick back up on the battle - but if he knew Bullseye, the maniac would just escape and find more people to kill. On the other hand, these recent string of killings seemed beneath Bullseye - infamous for murdering diplomats and CEOs and even world class assassins and other superheroes. Why is he killing college kids? First the Mayor's daughter's friends on Christmas and now this?

Daredevil had to make a choice: He had to catch Bullseye before he wound up getting head hunted but how was he going to find him in this mess? He made his way back into the unit and towards the window, glancing out with his Radar at the city below.

Whatever happened tonight, he felt dirty for hoping Bullseye made it through it - if only so Daredevil could finish the job.

[shadejak]

Bullseye dusted himself off as he emerged from the alley. It had taken some effort on his end but after a series of misadventures, a trip through another open area full of Devils that now looked like a graveyard, and a few other blocks, he'd managed to come out on top and escape the unfortunate and rude interruption of his day by pumpkin-head and the military punk for now. Now all that remained was culling the herds a little more and making sure Red found his way to him. The little gift he'd left in that tiny little apartment practically had his name written all over it, it'd have Red's attention right away. Of course, Bullseye was the type who loved to sign his work, it'd be a shame if anyone came to the assumption someone other then him was capable of such a kill.

Turk had probably already escaped with the "help" Bullseye provided him, he always did, the damn roach, plus waste not want not. Bullseye wasn't about to let his new best buddy die so easily yet.

Several more Devils now lay dead at the assassin's feet. Why the bloody shit the news kept trying to call them such soft terms was beyond him when they were stealing Red's look and busting up Hell's Kitchen like it was all a damn game to them. f**k**g children, always wanting to put on a cowl but do nothing to earn it. Well, if they wanted to leap into the fray then Dex was more then happy to give them a first-hand lesson on the "risks" that came with it, especially when they'd already pissed him off enough trying to be HIM.

-DONK!-

Bullseye shook his head. His cranium may have now had a nice shiny adamantium coat around it and whoever did it clearly hadn't worked out a day in his life, but he still sure as shit felt that. Turning sharply he saw the assailant trying to run, a bike lock in hand, but the throwing knife Bullseye's arm sent right into the kid's Achilles tendon with perfect aim sent him face first into the ground as Bullseye began to approach.

"No! No! D-Don't kill me, man!" the Devil whimpered as he tried to turn himself over and crawl backward, Bullseye paying him no mind as he took up the fallen bike lock, tossing it up and down in his hand.

"The f**k you go an' do that for?" Dex asked, his tone soft but dangerous.

The punk sobbed in terror.

"I ASKED YOU A GODDAMN QUESTION YA LITTLE BETA-SHIT!" he snapped. "Here's two more, one, what kinda coward-ass punk tries n' sneak up an' hit someone then run for it like they suddenly gotta take a piss?"

Bullseye's hand clenched tight on the bike lock as he reached forward and ripped the kid's mask off, the thing flimsy enough it was no challenge for a peak athlete assassin. Sure enough some puny college kid with an unkempt beard and his frizzy hair up in some kind of bun. Smelled like weed, too. It again reminded him of his Christmas rampage, and made the assassin wonder if these punks came off a goddamn assembly line faster then he could take them out. "Truth now, or this goes where the sun don't shine!"

"I-I... didn't... want to... get..." the boy stammered.

"Caught, right?" Bullseye asked, a wide terrible sneer on his face. "Gettin' tired of you lot. HE wouldn't do that. So that brings me to my other question: why you think you got the right to wear HIS horns?"

The kid prepared to speak, his mouth opening just in time for the metal shaft of the bike lock to embed itself into his forehead, his lifeless body promptly toppled to the street.

"Second thought, I'll ask him myself when I see him!" Bullseye mused, leaving and continuing his journey to the special meeting place he had in mind. The stadium wasn't far, and the construction they were doing would only add more for the assassin to use to his advantage. The Devils he killed before this little runt all had a theme to them, namely the pack of baseball cards he'd bought from a gas station embedded in their faces and necks, and one bludgeoned to a paste with his own bat, and one set ablaze with his own molotov he tried to throw at Bullseye before the assassin flung him into a window and left a baseball on his burning corpse. The clues couldn't be more obvious. The game was to begin...

TAG webdevil

[webdevil]

The 17th precinct was buzzing its usual din of officers flitting in and out in-between assignments. Underpaid, understaffed, and with more hours logged than what should be considered legal, it was not entirely surprising to know that any attempt to enter their midst dressed in costumed vigilante threads were grounds to have every firearm in the facility trained on you in seconds. The image alone was comical in a dark sort of way.

Lieutenant Frank Bryce, one of the precinct's more senior detectives, had to work hard to keep the rank and file in check. He was tired; weighed down by the long hours. Hours spent in no small part on one particular string of murders. The only connection was they were all college students - or at least college age - with a fixation for Daredevil. Daredevil. He felt his lip twitch at the name as he adjusted in his seat. He worked with the horned vigilante several times - hell half the precinct from Captain Stewart to Mahoney did - helped them with several cases over the years. But now his mask was plastered all over every square inch there was space to put evidence and spider string.

Tap
tap
tap

Bryce got shook out of his reverie and eyed a window to his left and - used to this interruption - sighed and got up. He felt every joint pop as he did so. He was a broad man, about five-eleven, nearly two hundred pounds, and built like a small truck, he had a ruggedly handsome appearance in his own right, but he was beginning to feel like getting up was getting harder and harder, and he wasn't even quite forty-years-old yet. He popped the window latch open and slid it up, allowing the real Daredevil inside.

"You realize I technically should be arresting you these days, right?" said Bryce dryly. Daredevil gave him a stoic look.

"Er, sorry?" said Daredevil in a tone that reminded Bryce of another time. Another place.

"Nevermind. Dare I ask why you're waltzing into the middle of my office? At least you kept office hours for a change..." said Bryce, his last words in an undertone (not that it meant much to Daredevil).

"What do you know about the Devils?" asked Daredevil, the question sounded open. Vague. Bryce quirked an eyebrow.

"I would ask you that question, Hornhead, seeing as they wear your outfit,"

"I don't ask for anybody to do what I do, Detective," said Daredevil cooly.

"Nah, we just take the fallout. Fine. Without going into any active investigation, the Devils seem to be a loose group of activists and, er, concerned citizens, wearing the mask of Daredevil to commit assaults, arson, and even attempted murder of any individual who has any slight connection to Wilson Fisk. At least, that is what somebody from S. H. I. E. L. D. claims. The case is being considered to be bumped up to Federal due to that connection alone but between you and me, I don't want Fisk to hide behind the suits in Washington, which if the case bumps up, it might," said Bryce, the resigned bitterness on full display with every syllable.

Daredevil's eyes widened underneath the mask.

"You look surprised. I'm surprised, Daredevil: Their motives have been all over the papers, especially after that attack on Jigsaw and then RandCorp. Aren't you friends with that reporter?"

Daredevil hesitated. The truth would cost him something and he knew it. He hadn't spoken to Ben Urich since the night he found him with Iron Fist at RandCorp with a Devil mask in his hands. Daredevil was still dealing with the situation he had dealt with with the She-Hulk during this and he went into a rage at his friend. It wasn't until Natasha - and Typhoid Mary - came along that Daredevil realized what he had done. Nevertheless, the damage had been done.

"We... Haven't spoken in a bit," he said somewhat lamely.

"I see. So you come to me. Why now?"

Whatever embarrassment Daredevil felt, it was gone now.

"I found a man cleaning an apartment claiming a girl was murdered... With a laptop impaled through her chest," he said grimly.

Bryce's expression hardened, but his body language betrayed him. He knew what Daredevil was talking about, but was also hesitant.

"Am I interfering with a case by stating that the M/O sounds like Bullseye?" asked Daredevil, his tone allowing Bryce an out. Bryce waited a moment as if weighing his options, but then shrugged.

"No. It probably was Bullseye. We have detectives on it but, what do you have?" asked Bryce, who began leaning on his desk. Daredevil knew that expression: Bryce held all the cards here, and if Daredevil was going to find Bullseye, he needed to play by Bryce's rules.

"I've been tracking him for three months. I have a... source... That all but confirmed Bullseye has been at large since Christmas and that it was him who murdered all those kids at the Mayor's mansion,"

"Can I talk to this source?" asked Bryce, though he suspected he knew the answer before Daredevil gave it.

Daredevil shook his head.

"Not unless you can break a WitPro contract in three hours, and I am certain their lawyers take attorney-client privilege quite seriously," said Daredevil, which made Bryce shake his head.

"I nearly caught him tonight but circumstances had him... Escape," said Daredevil, tho Bryce noticed the tone of frustration in the vigilante's voice. He knew that feeling. He did not blame Daredevil - Bullseye once killed his entire police squad to get to his target.

"So what is it that you want?" asked Bryce, though he suspected he had an idea what.

"Bullseye killed this girl to send me a message, a message I clearly missed if she had been dead a week," said Daredevil.

"No kidding," replied Bryce sarcastically, but Daredevil ignored this jibe and continued on.

"If I can get a look at the sites where he murdered people, get a feel as to why, I might be able to..." said Daredevil trailing off.

"To what? Triangulate his position or something? You don't think my detectives didn't think of that? And even if you could you said it yourself, he escaped. You really think visiting past crime scenes will help?"

Daredevil gave him a hard look, the kind of look that gave him the look of a man who did not want to be argued with.

"I have to try," he said in a quiet voice that nevertheless carried in the small, dingy office.

[heroesdreamer]

Bobbi was back in the saddle again, ready to face off against a foe she'd faced before; Bullseye. She remembered fighting the man with a friend a while back and how viscous he was, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had wanted him captured and/or at least distracted, word was he was going after a small group of activists calling themselves 'Devils', going so far as to dress like Daredevil, which just made her shake her head. She highly doubted any of these people were trained in combat, why were they going around causing trouble?

She ran down the streets, stopping briefly every time she ran across bodies and calling for ambulances, reporting her findings to one of the mainframes at headquarters, when she heard the sound of explosions and ran that way, keeping to the shadows as she had no idea who all she would come across. It was a good thing she did, as she found carnage and shrapnel from small bombs, once she'd gotten a safe distance away she called in the fire and burning before following down an alleyway, grimacing as she heard his voice and found another body. She saw the target up ahead, walking with determination, and took a deep breath, analyzing her options. He was heading into open terrority, which could work in her favor but on the other hand, she would have less cover to draw from.

Steeling her courage, she ran far enough away so he would have to come to her, and called out, "Hey Bullseye! You left a nice trail for me to follow, or someone to follow. Why are you wasting your time on these kids? she asked as a challenge, thinking about how to take him in safely.

[Rift]

Flash had learned over his time in the Army that no plan survived first contact with the enemy, so when the assorted bad guys didn't up and surrender or make way for him to apprehend Bullseye he was not surprised in the slightest. When the psychotic assassin turned the whole situation in a split second allowing him time to make a getaway he still wasn't shocked. It wasn't even unexpected when he found himself in an airborne battle with Jack O'Lantern, dodging bursts of flame that the symbiote vehemently disliked all while trying to get a bead on pumpkin headed freak. No, the thing that threw him off his game for a moment were the Devils.

He'd been trained to deal with enemy combatants and had even started to think he'd gotten the hang of fighting supervillains to some degree, but a bunch of angry civilians in Daredevil cosplay attacking him even after a number of their rank had been slaughtered by Bullseye? That was not on his list of expected scenarios.

The Devils were not his mission and neither was Jack, but they were definitely an impediment. Not wanting to add to the body count of the evening and more than uncomfortable with using lethal force on a bunch of rioters, regardless of how dumb they were, he made sure to save the ammo for Jack. Unfortunately, targeting a flying broomstick, an already difficult task, was made that much harder by the idiots trying to gang up on him.

Damn it, I need space. Clear them out, but keep it non-lethal. I need to remove Jack from the equation and get back on Bullseye's trail and I can't do that with Dollar Tree Daredevil's interfering, he commanded the symbiote.

Almost instantly tendrils lashed out and went to work. One of the Devils, wearing a costume that looked like something a television version of a superhero show would try to pass off as a uniform, dodged a line of webbing only to be caught by a tendril that promptly yanked a knee out of socket. Another with a cheap plastic Halloween mask was flung across the street and slammed into a Dumpster. A final assailant had his baseball bat yanked from his grasp and slammed into his stomach, followed by both ankles.

While Venom was busy handling the rioters, Flash took aim and fired three rounds from his handgun, each striking the broomstick and shorting out the rocket-like propulsion. Leaping into the air Venom's clawed hand ripped the broom away, sending it spiraling into the street where it burst into flames. Firing webbing with both hands he snagged Jack and flung him hard into a nearby fire escape, leaving him webbed to the side.

With Jack neutralized, Venom landed back on the ground and headed in the direction Bullseye had fled, the sound of sirens and the moans of the injured echoing in his ears. Stepping over a fallen Devil he shook his head.

"This is why you leave the whole superhero thing to the professionals."