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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2016 20:47:22 GMT -7
Matt Murdock was clutching his waist slightly as he sat down in the booth he and Foggy grabbed. It was a pizza parlor that Foggy recommended despite Matt's protests about Foggy trying to eat healthier, but even he couldn't deny a good New York pizza when the mood struck him, especially after going toe-to-toe with superpowered government agents just the night before. He grunted and he felt Foggy give him a look of concern; his best friend in life and law partner, who also knew better than to out and out make a comment about the fact that the blind lawyer by day secretly took down criminals and superpowered threats to New York as Daredevil, the Man Without Fear. "You need to take it easy on that treadmill, Matt," said Foggy in response to Matt's grunt, to which Matt couldn't help but laugh at despite the mild discomfort it caused him. "Next time the nurse next door might not be there when you fall down," "No kidding," replied Matt sardonically. Claire Temple, one the many "Night Nurses" in the city came by earlier that morning and stitched him up. In truth his injuries were a lot less than even he gauged, though she implored him to lay off the rooftop jumping for the next week. The odds of that happening were slim-to-none, but nevertheless, she was probably right. The pizza shop owner, a grizzled Italian stalwart who went by Nick, leaned over the counter towards the lawyers. "Ah, if it ezzn't Foggy Nelson. Brought that elusive partner o'yours I see," said Nick, his Italian accent mixing in with a sharp Brooklyn drawl from all the years he lived in New York. "For a moment I was thinkin' that a place like this was beneath the great Matthew Murdock, but like I always tell yous, you won't find a better pie than Nick's, no sir. Even Joe's been after recipe for years!" "Hey, Nick. Why not a special? Matt here's got a rather unique taste. Figured maybe he could try a bit here," said Foggy, to which the old Pizza parlour owner's eyes light up. "I have just the thing! Wait right here, I'll get started!" said Nick and with that was off as quick as a flash. Foggy turned to Matt. "So this is the shop you ended up rescuing from the legal storefront wars when I was in San Francisco," Matt commented. A few years ago, Matt was living out in San Francisco with his then-girlfriend, the Black Widow, and during that time Foggy had become District Attorney. Sure he only lasted one term, but it was good to see even without Matt at his side, he was fighting the good fight. "Tell me about it. Ya know two of the shops tried to fight me with multiple legal roadblocks and a couple of injunctions before I got them on collusion charges, and that was before we found out they were fronts for the mob. Ol' Nick back there was the one honest guy of the pack, and he was getting screwed for nearly 33% of his business on top of the customer drop off," replied Foggy, reminiscing about a brighter time in both their lives. It was funny that he found himself these days almost wishing he was fighting aliens and international criminal organizations led by evil mutates than what came after he returned to New York. About a half hour or so later, Nick served them with a unique creation by pizza standards that actually somehow managed to by spicy but not overpowering to the rest of the toppings. Nothing seemed out of place, and Matt enjoyed it. The two then had a few laughs about how they got to where they were. It was nice, actually, to talk about things with Foggy that didn't feel like it was at the edge of their friendship going south for the upteenth time or when they were losing a legal case, as so often they do. It reminded him of their college days at Columbia. Two hours pass and the two part ways with Matt heading up two blocks before reaching his apartment. And then something he both was drawn to and repulsed by entered his nostrils: Rose oil. No. Not now. He moved with a swiftness one didn't usually look for in a blind man and was in his apartment within seconds. He retracted his cane into his backup billy clubs and entered a combat stance. "Elektra," he said simply. "Hello, Matthew,"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 17:22:39 GMT -7
Elektra was sitting on Matt's couch, as if she had made herself at home. This made Matt's lip twitch. He felt her get up off the couch and take a step towards him. He gave her a stone cold expression. "Two months. For a moment I thought you decided to stay," said Matt unimpressively. Elektra waited a second, as if caught on a sentence, before speaking. "I know. I am sorry about that. I just - - Well, I had some things come up that required me elsewhere," replied Elektra, her voice was cultivated, and while her heartbeat said she was telling the truth, Matt knew she was one of the few who could duck it. His dead eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "So what made you come back?""It's going to sound silly, but, you, actually," replied Elektra and then stepped closer to him. Matt kept his guard up. She wrapped her hands around his wrists gently and motioned to lower them. "What's wrong with a phone call?" asked Matt dryly. "Would you have picked up if I had?" returned Elektra, before reaching up towards his face her her own. In truth, he admitted privately, he would probably not. "And I wouldn't be able to do this," she whispered in his ear. And with that, Matt Murdock was putty in her hands, overtaken by his passion. His fervor, his rage, his hate, his love, all of it. He didn't quite remember how the kitchen was disorganized or how they made it to his bedroom, but there they were.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 19:39:10 GMT -7
The Following Morning... It was a difficult thing, to separate the hero from the man. Warren knew that by personal experience, and very well. For a long time now he had taken to foregoing a mask, spreading his wings proudly. The War had brought pain and misery to many, and made enemies out of once soundest of friends. It wasn't enough that mutants were unusual when comparing to their human cousins, what was more that they were made out to be dangerous by the constant skirmishes made by the likes of Magneto, Sauron, Juggernaut. Even those who weren't by nature mutant spread mire on the name - and the media didn't help matters in the slightest. That was why Warren got rid of the mask. He registered with the government, siding with Xavier and seeking to stabilize what little friendliness there remained. At the cost of ever being seen as just Warren Worthington. Now, whenever one saw him, they only ever saw "Angel". It was a difficult situation to be in. Although he didn't mind in the slightest, and ignored most of the painful comments thrown his way by those who despised mutants (finding pleasure in the more encouraging ones), that spoke for nothing of the strain it put on his ability to lead Worthington Industries. Imagine, trying to get to a press conference with a mob of people wondering if they'd get to see his wings! So it was that, at least for the short time in which he needed to get to a destination without interruptions, he took to wearing a sort of disguise. A wig and a pair of blacked-out glasses. It wasn't the most convincing, but it was enough to prevent someone from immediately recognizing him. Blond hair was a surprisingly noticeable trait. A limousine rolled through New York, smaller in size to avoid being too conspicuous. Warren never was a snob, not even when he was a spoiled rich boy (literally, in the case of his childhood). The black paint matched the tinted windows, which prevented anyone peering in. Warren himself sat on a leather couch, one leg tossed over the other, reading a copy of "The Intelligent Investor". It wasn't the first time he'd skimmed it, but he needed something to do while he waited for the brief car ride to end. In the past, he would have simply flown himself there; but the times had changed. He couldn't be so free anymore. He was dressed in the typical suit and tie get up - this would be a professional appointment. The transit came to a stop shortly. His personal, white-haired, nicely-kept chauffeur glanced over his shoulder and said "Master Worthington, we have arrived." in a kindly voice. Warren set the book gently down at his side, reaching for the door handle beside him. He never was the kind to have his door opened for him. "Thank you, Oliver. I'll be sure to include a nice bonus when signing off on the pay - I understand you're nearing your forty-eighth anniversary?" He smiled, pushing the door away and stepping free of the confining vehicle. It was spacious, yet somehow having three times as wide as any vehicle made every space seem small. Not that they were out for the world to see, no - for now his wings were contained in a brace, underneath his garments. No one could see them on first notice, except by reaching to touch his back. Oliver's face lit up brightly as he smiled from under a trimmed mustache, uttering thanks after gracious thanks until Warren slid the door shut. He turned around as the car drove away (it was common knowledge that Warren liked to fly himself home after appointments), and without another second of delay entered through into the esteemed offices of Nelson and Murdock. He removed the wig as SOON as he got through the door. He hated it almost as much as he despised the brace! "I'm here for my ten o' clock appointment with Mr. Murdock." Warren informed the secretary after a quick nod in greeting. As it happened, even financial geniuses needed advice every now and again (though Warren wasn't one to brag on being one), and after learning of the two lawyer's reputation of actually pursuing the morally righteous side rather than that which granted them the most money, Warren would accept no one else. Of course, the lawyer already knew some of the vaguer details. Warren had informed him over telephone earlier that week. His uncle had managed to nab a rather decently sized investment fund before his death, something Warren stumbled over while reviewing the companies' incomes and expenses in detail - after procuring it following his father's demise. It'd taken years of fixing other issues and being distracted by his duties as the Angel, but now he decided to finally do something about it. ...He just didn't know how. It was rather locked into a trust owned by his uncle and one of the older members of the board - and he wasn't being cooperative. An Angel he may be, but Warren was highly tempted to fire a good lot of those greedy old men. It'd do the world some good, that was for sure.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 16:10:57 GMT -7
Matt fidgeted at his desk. Try as he might he could not get what happened off of his mind. He felt stuck. It was Groundhog Day. It was life in a time loop. He was already swimming in too many emotions. A couple of times part of him wanted to click Natasha's chat window open. Other times he wanted to just go to sleep. Then suddenly the noise of the door opening caught his attention, snapping him out of his reverie. "Mr. Murdock, your ten'o'clock is here," said his and Foggy's newest secretary, Grace. Matt then finally full came around. "Send him in," he replied. The fact that he had sex, again, with Elektra frickin' Natchios could wait a little while longer. When he didn't have more important things to take care of in the city. The man who came in afterwards was tall, blond, and handsome, even by a blind man's standards. However this man was anything but average. When he wasn't being Warren Worthington III, he was the X-Man known as Angel. Once Arcangel, this was a man that Matt could relate to on many levels as they both struggled between darkness and light. And a handicap, so to speak. Matt wanted to cringe as he heard Angel's wingspan protest under the safety harness that kept them in check that made him otherwise appear human to the outside world, if they didn't already know he was a Mutant. "Warren! Long time no see. What brings you around the Kitchen? Your details were rather non-descript over the phone," he asked amiably. Sure they weren't close, but it was nice to see a friendly face, even if Warren technically didn't know that Matt was secretly Daredevil. Oh sure he likely suspected, but after the fiasco with the Globe and later Jameson, he decided to keep that genie a little tighter in its bottle.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 15:57:06 GMT -7
There wasn't even time to take a seat. As soon as he had said the word, the attentive, clearly new-to-the-job secretary peeked her head through the door and murmured the news to her boss. It was another moment later that she motioned for him to come through. Possibly not the most traditional methods of dealing with clientele, but Warren overlooked in on account of that the lobby was empty, it was relatively early in the morning, and he himself wasn't fond of being overly traditional with his employees - as his rather nonchalant, friendly interaction with his driver would attest to.
He had seen many strange things in life, as both Warren and the Angel, but one thing that struck him so completely was that the man sitting at the desk before him (in the pleasant but not too richly furnished office) was thoroughly blind. A lawyer with the reputation of being one of the best in the business, yet he couldn't ever see the faces of the clients he represented. It was a miracle of modern-day science that even allowed him to read at all, if it weren't for that his career would likely be all the more difficult, if not impossible.
Still, Matthew Murdock always seemed to be amicable about the subject, not that Warren ever pried about his difficulties - but any man who could willingly bring up the idea of sight when it was foreign to them had a courage Warren could respect. Either that, or they were so cynical and broken that it hardly even mattered any more. He smiled, knowing the lawyer couldn't see it, but - well, he was a generally happy man himself. There was little reason not to, in this company. "I can't say if that's a good thing or bad, Matt. It's been a while since I've had any legal trouble." He stifled a laugh, it was only partly true. His family had been nothing less than a political mess. "We really should grab a bite sometime, under less serious circumstances."
The mutant entrepreneur took a seat, one he knew was openly provided, careful not to lean back too harshly lest he put more strain on his wings than needed. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable having them in the brace, though they longed for freedom, yet he hardly wished to add further burden on them unless needed. He leaned forward, smile dropping somewhat. "And, I apologize for being so vague. I would have liked to be more forthcoming. But I'm afraid there aren't many I can trust in my family's business these days."
He withdrew an envelope from his suit-top's pocket, and slid it across the desk. Inside were several documents, the most important of which showing a large amount of income being siphoned away from all deposits, and the second of which showing their path to a backup bank account - where, by official records, they ceased to exist at all. Warren had already ordered the documents remade, those that Matthew now had in his possession were already in Braille format. "I wasn't able to discover more than this. But I'm sure you can understand my dilemma. That bank account belonged to my late uncle - shared with another whose identity I don't know."
Forehead creasing, eyes narrowing, he continued in a hushed tone. "I believe it to be a member of my board of directors. But I can't prove it, and I don't know where the money goes after it is sent to that account. I've already contacted a trustworthy-" he put emphasis on the word, "-contact within the bank responsible for my account, but he told me that the transferring is locked in by a trust fund formerly owned by my father - created at a time when he wasn't too sure I would be taking over the company. My uncle was very good at keeping him under control." The last part was added with a trail of sadness. He missed his father, dearly, and regretted that he wasn't able to protect him.
But that was in the past. Warren knew he couldn't have prevented the manipulation of his father, but he could reverse it. Or, at least he hoped. "I'm hoping we can get to the bottom of this. Preferably, before anyone within my organization discovers what I've been up to."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 20:10:11 GMT -7
Matt took the documents and began to speed-read through them. They held up to what Warren was theorizing, and they were talking billions of dollars here, all squirreled away. He pulled the second document, which were stock reports. If he guessed right, these stocks being withheld would tip control of Warren's company to whomever can get their hands on them. Interesting. But it wasn't enough to suspect foul play. Then there was the notion his contacts were through the bank which means that some of the reports, while in confidence, were not entirely admissible in a court of law, especially in a delicate civil case such as this. "Well, this evidence isn't admissible in court on a civil case, and while I trust you with your source, hearsay isn't much to go on even under oath. Unless there was criminal intent, and even then you would need substantive proof of that. What IS admissible here would help to sway a jury, but otherwise these don't prove anything without a connected thread," said Matt, pointing out the obvious, as if confirming what Warren already knew. Warren was an intelligent man and Matt didn't need to prove that. But it was his hired obligation to be a second opinion. Even if he wasn't, whether Warren knew it or not, they were part of a small community that had a single goal in mind. They looked out from each other, one way, or another. "But you didn't need me to tell you that. Which means I assume you know something more. Which is it? Embezzlement? War profiteering? Criminal Trafficking? Every company has dummy accounts to be sure, but if the CEO and Chairman is coming to Hell's Kitchen instead of Wall Street, I can only assume..." he asked, though he left the rest as non-verbal, in case he was wrong, and that could happen from time to time. While he may have a booked appointment with Nelson and Murdock, they kept their client confidentiality locked tighter than Fort Knox. Which meant that anybody else reading his itinerary would read he was anywhere but. Well to be fair he is one of the X-Men and they do have a history of going off planet or into international Mutant crises in rapid succession. He then heard in the next room somebody had their laptop set to the local news. It was specifically the name 'Osborn' that struck him. Oh crap. Warren wouldn't be able to hear it, so he kept his focus on his client. He filed what that meant for later.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 17, 2016 13:38:43 GMT -7
Roger was out on patrol, wandering through the Hell's Kitchen streets, looking for trouble. Hearing a gunshot in the distance, Roger took off flying through the air with his jet boots, landing near the docks, where a large group of goons were lurking. Perched on the rooftop above them, gocking examined the situation. There was a large group of thugs, moving a supply of crates off the ship. Knowing whatever is in those crates couldn't be legal, Roger took action.
Aiming down from the perch, he fired off several missiles from his suit, which exploded into a burst of anesthetic gas that swept over the thugs. Unsure how many had been taken out from that initial burst, Gocking jumped from the ledge, plummeting down into the crowd, chipping the ground slightly.
There were looks of confusion as Porc landed, one asking if he was their backup, before Roger delivered several quick jabs to the nearest thugs, before shooting out some quills filled with the same anesthetic drug at the thugs attempting to flee
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Post by Deleted on Mar 17, 2016 20:51:49 GMT -7
Unaware of what occurred at the docs, their conversation continued. Matt began by confirming such articles sole purpose in court would be to change the popular opinion, although they both knew it wouldn't be by much. Angel knew that. It was more a point of beginning the conversation off on something they could both agree on, before bringing it into the more finer, delicate points. There was no doubt in Warren's mind that someone in his company was conspiring against him. He wasn't one for casting doubt on another without reason. It was fairly common knowledge that most of his board wanted him out, because he was more interested in actually healing and protecting the world than he was with making a profit.
Of course, all the same, he had no actual proof. He knew that. He knew that whoever they were had been smart enough to cover their tracks for the last several years, at least as far back as when his father owned the company; granted, his father wasn't much of a business man. He was more skilled at putting on a friendly face for the masses while he let his advisers run the show in his stead. Still, it showed a certain amount of deviousness on account of whoever was responsible. If his uncle trusted them with a portion of the shares, they had to be something special.
It dawned on him that he could always just ask Blindfold, but he wanted to do things as officially as he could, and not involve the X-Men or mutant cause. They had enough problems in dealing with the mutant hate widespread in the United States. There was a gunshot, then; but it was followed by silence. It was nothing Warren could deal with. He wouldn't be able to track it down.
He sighed, "Therein lies the problem. This has been going on behind my back for the last half-decade, at least. I know there is something, but the trouble is there has been so much time to pull the curtain even tighter that I worry pursuing it could result in a lawsuit against myself. It's already tenable enough; I'm sure you realize that this transfer could very easily be made out to be my own doing. Corruption in the form of a CEO swindling funds from the company's main account for their own uses is a sadly common thing; one that could very well cost me my position, or worse." Warren didn't like to worry about such things. He was carefree, joyful, eager to make life easier for everyone and everything. Not become bogged down by political turmoil.
"The slightest thing I do that may be remotely illegal could spell the end of me. I have no doubt that whoever is responsible would take whatever opportunity I present them with. I've contemplated hiring a private investigator, but even that risks drawing attention I'd rather not have, for the moment. What I do need, is to know what my options are - what I can legally do, what I can legally use. Then I ca--" Whatever he would say next was interrupted, and never spoken. Somewhere nearby there was not one, not two, but many and many more resounding 'bangs' from rapid gunfire.
"That can't be good." Warren muttered, stating the obvious, rising to his feet. This, unlike the first, was a gunfire he could do something about. But before he could continue, a young man who seemed to be in the early days of college life entered quickly, eyes wide with anxiety.
"I'm sorry - I'm so sorry! You've gotta' look at the news!" Warren raised an eyebrow, had it been going on for so long that the media had gotten there already? Or perhaps they were already on the scene. It didn't matter whichever way. The television by the wall flashed to life, switched to the news and, just as the intern had said, it was there. A sky-high view from a helicopter circling around the docs nearby, one Warren knew well from the many times he had patrolled the skies of New York, was broadcast on the screen. "Mr. Murdock, I'm sorry, c-can I go home? Please?"
"It will be resolved long before then." Warren stated as he tugged at the collar of his suit. He turned back to Matthew. "My apologies, Matt. But some things take preference over others. Would you mind if we rescheduled our meeting to another time?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2016 9:28:02 GMT -7
Luke was out and about for a leisurely stroll… leisurely in the way that typically invited thugs to attack him. While many superheroes devoted their time to aliens, mega monsters, world invasions and such, Luke preferred to be down here on the streets making the day to day life of the citizens of Hell’s Kitchen better.
Saving the world from impending doom was important, to be sure, but also making sure that the elderly could get out and walk to the store without being mugged and harassed were equally important. Should Luke be out here trying to bait the gangs to attack him? Well, he tended not to think about those things. If they didn’t want to be broken in half, then they should leave people alone.
And that was why he was out in public, sporting the biggest gold and diamond watch that he could afford. Actually, he couldn’t afford it, but one of the shop owners, a jeweler, lent it to him. Luke had convinced him to let him wear it. If he did, then the gang would be gone.
And just like mice drawn to the smell of peanut butter, so were gangs and thugs drawn to gold and diamonds.
“Hey Old Man, that’s a nice watch. Mind if I see it?” came the brazen voice of some wanna be thug from behind him.
Luke turned around and just looked at the gangbanger. There were about 12 of them. No doubt they had to pool their numbers in order to feel safe against Luke. Openingly, they carried a few knives in their hands, but some of them were sporting bulges under their shirts, indicating that they also carried a few handguns.
None of it would help though. None if it usually did. Several would run off when they realized what they were facing, but not before Luke took the really nasty ones out of commission. Even now, he had them targeted.
“You can do, Tinkerbell. Your dainty little wrists couldn’t hold a watch like this. The relationship with your boyfriend there would suffer and he would get cranky.”
Of course Luke was phrasing his words so as to draw out the worst in the thugs… it wouldn’t have been fun otherwise.
Of course, the reaction was what Luke expected.
Of course, he knew that.
Of course, the battle was over before it began. As the gang members rushed him, Luke waded in, throwing punches.
== 20 minutes later ==
“So, again, they attacked you?” The detective was almost incredulous as he surveyed the damage. Broken bodies and blood was everywhere. The ones that were left conscious moaned in pain and whimpered. Most, though, were unconscious; their bodies lay in angles that no normal body would be able to achieve.
Luke, for his part, was unscathed, saved for the tears in his shirt.
Luke shrugged. “Yeah it was weird man, they just attacked me.” The cop shook his head and watched at the bodies were being loaded in the back of several ambulances. “Well, most of them have rap sheets, so no matter what went down here, they won’t be back on the streets for a long time. Of course, that was probably your intentions, huh?”
Again Luke shrugged. “This is my home, so I’ll be here, but I was honestly on my way to get my watch fixed. Minding my own business.”
The cop shook his head and walked away. Luke turned and began to whistle as he strolled back down to the jewelers.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2016 8:43:24 GMT -7
The streets of Hells Kitchen New York were loaded with people walking from one location to the next. Daisy had gone dark like Fury had asked of her. She even went so far as to giving herself hair extension so she wouldn’t be recognized. Daisy hadn’t expected Fury to give a posh apartment in Hells Kitchen, but that’s what he had done. She was in the process of walking back from Chelseas high line. The one location in the city that made you feel like you were some place else. Daisy had been tracking down leads tying to find any information about what had happened in New York and what Elektra’s next step was. Daisy walked into a near by pizza shop and sat down in a booth. As she looked up at the menu and her options a voice from the back spoke to another man named Nick in a thick Italian accent. That was something Daisy could appreciate about the boroughs of New York the Authenticity. She hadn’t really been able to get out much since her time in S.H.I.E.L.D, but when se did going to local places was just one of the many things she did. Daisy ordered a slice of the special and water. As she waited for order her eyes caught a glimpse of the news report on the TV. It was the tale end of the report of Norman Osborne and something about a political race. Daisy knew the name from her work with S.H.I.E.L.D and knew that him in politics was a bad idea for everyone. Osborn though wasn’t why she was her, no she had bigger things that needed to be handled. As her order was up and ready Daisy paid and picked up her food and drink. She walked out of the restaurant carrying her food and beverage. Daisy had been trying to track down Mat Murdock, not let him know she was around, but track his movements. She wanted Intel and so far she had managed to find a lot of Intel that led to places she would need back to go into. Daisy could handle herself in all situations, but she was under direct orders from Fury to go dark She sat down on a near by bench and started to each her pizza. The man in the back’s name was Nick that much she had learned. Daisy had also known Matt Murdock was here the night before with his partner Foggy. She had managed to keep to herself and not say much even while being in the same restaurant as Murdock just the other night. Daisy was good at blending in and not being seen when she didn’t want to be seen. There was something going on and she would eventually need Murdock to help her out, but for now she needed to hang low and not get involved. Daisy was enjoying the slice of pizza just the right amount of cheese to sauce ratio. She was watching a particular building the one of the Lawyer Firm Nelson and Murdock. A limo had pulled up and what looked like a high-end client had walked out. As the Limo pulled away Daisy watched on. She was thinking of ways inside and trying to find Intell in her own way, but the last thing she needed was Matt Murdock aka DareDevil knowing she was tailing him not only would he immediately not trust her, but more then likely she would had more trouble then she wanted on her hands. Instead she was gong to have to follow her lead that would bring her to the darker parts of Hells Kitchen. As she finished her last bite of the delicious pizza and drank the remainder of her water. Daisy got up from the bench and started to make her way to a bar. She knew of a local biker gang leader that frequented the bar. Daisy was pretty sure of herself most of the time and didn’t fear anything in Hells Kitchen no matter how bad the situation was but something was making Daisy uneasy. As she turned a corner just up a block from the lawyer office of Nelson and Murdock, she heard someone whistle and Daisy didn’t turn to look, no she knew a set up when she felt one. Daisy continued walking as the whistling grew louder and she noticed not one but 3 large men approaching her. There hands were buried deep inside of their pockets as they made their way towards her. Daisy was not stupid, she was almost always armed and she was an Inhuman so she hardly needed weapons to protect herself. The men moved n quickly as Daisy took the situation from the main street down an alleyway. She reached inside her coat pocket and gripped the two spring loaded batons she carried. As her fingers gripped the cold steel the first man grabbed Daisy from behind. He whispered into her ear as a the second man now stood in front of daisy who had her arms pinned to her sides. “Hey pretty lady, don’t you know the streets of Hells Kitchen are a dangerous place.” These street thugs had no idea who or what they were up against. Daisy tilted her head to the side as her eyes narrowed at the man standing in front of her. “Here’s the situation, I strongly advise that you 3 leave me alone while you are still standing.” As she spoke the third man as if on cue punched her solidly in the gut. Daisy didn’t even flinch, crouched down and hit the man holding her with several elbows to the side. The man had no idea what was coming next. Daisy turned and grabbed the mans shoulder, effectively avoiding the gun the man had pulled from his pocket. As she turned and struck the man with a solid fist the groin and elbow to the chin she then stepped on his foot effectively breaking his ankle. The man screamed out in pain as the broken bones in his foot started to pierced through his flesh. Daisy stepped on his wrist and effectively removed the gun form the mans hand. She pointed the gun at the second mans head speaking to him and the third man. “Your friend here needs medical attention, I’m giving you another chance to not become like your friend here and get him the help he needs. “ Daisy didn’t need her powers for this situation; no she just needed her combat training. As she cocked back the hammer on the gun the third man got stupid and charged at her. In the process Daisy lost her footing slightly and was pushed into the wall as the man speared her. Daisy pushed back from the wall as the second man grabbed her arms and held her into the wall the third man held her shoulders down with his own body force. The second one spoke in her ear as he smiled. “It doesn’t work that way sweetheart we are going to get what we want today.” Daisy felt the bones in her body ache; she narrowed her eyes as she focused on the man holding her to the wall. Daisy came up with a hard knee to the mans face instantly breaking his nose. As she did the second man pulled out a blade and pierced Daisy’s side. She felt the weapons go in into her flesh and pulled back slightly. The second man held her up against the wall as the 3rd man now held onto his face. “You're a feisty one aren’t ya, its ok I like the dangerous ones even more.” He pressed he body weight into Daisy holding the knife into her wound. She felt the seering pain of the weapon in her side, just deep enough to cause her pain, but not deep enough to kill her. The man put his hand over her mouth and pressed himself against her. Daisy didn’t care about the pain, she had been through worse in her life time. These men would pay dearly for their mistakes. She felt him pushing himself on her controlling her movements through the knife in her side. Daisy ignored the pain of the knife as the man attempted to tear at her clothes. Daisy moved her head forward, delivering a hard head but to his face. The mans nose was broken open and crimson flowed down his face. He was leaning forward as the third man now running at Daisy. She grabbed her batons out from under her coat and effectively unloaded them. As she struck the two men in the knee caps effectively breaking them on impact. The men laid on the pavement crying out in pain. Daisy could hear sirens out in the distance of police heading to the scene, someone had called the cops, Daisy was grateful for that meant she wouldn’t need to kill these guys tonight. She might have been a S.H.I.E.L.D agent but for all intents and purposes she had gone dark and the last thing she needed was this incident. Daisy limped away from the scene as she held her side. The wound was deep, but nothing she couldn’t fix later.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2016 16:28:22 GMT -7
Matt nodded at Warren, playing the pretense of blind lawyer. He found it rather amusing to play the part of knowing stooge to a superhero, but he kept that to himself; he would be joining him momentarily anyways. "Go," he said simply and watched Warren leave quickly. Matt leaned out of his door once Warren was out of earshot. "Grace, just let everybody know I am not taking any appointments for the next couple of hours. Got this case here to look into," he said. "Yes, Mr. Murdock," she replied. Matt nodded to her with a smile and closed the door. With the speed of a man trained as a ninja, he tore off his suit, revealing the light but reinforced red armored suit that belonged to his alter-ego, Daredevil, the Man Without Fear. Slipping on the mask and securing his billy clubs kept in a hidden compartment in his office, he slid out the window (a risky move since it was broad daylight) and headed straight for the rooftops, tracking the firefight. From the sounds of it, it appeared contained to the docks about three blocks away. He tracked Angel's flight path, the man's wings beat with a soft but strong 'flapflapflapflap' in sync, the man having changed into a more suitable attire for the occasion. Using the mixture of sounds as a guide track for his radar sense to follow. He grapple lined to the water tower on the building next to his below and swang down to it, rolling through and keeping pace. The bullets escalated, but now there were explosions. Grenades? RPG? Somebody was getting desperate, but why? He kicked it up a notch, he had to hurry.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2016 14:21:19 GMT -7
Optional Music:
"I never stop hearing them...those I killed...their screams...their feral cries as I burned their bodies and consumed all they had, blood, skin, and bone...oh god..." In a world as vast and complex and strange as ours, there are many whom believe that every single defining moment of our world’s history has had a single defining moment, a choice or action which creates the inevitable cascade that triggers an event of earth shaking proportions, always varying in size and scale, but with the capacity to encompass the whole planet. In this moment, the fate of more than anyone could possibly imagine all teeters on a precipice, and the fate of many lives would be changed based on the courage, strength, and will of the people making the choices. These ‘shatterpoints’ seem to exist all over history, though it is often difficult to determine which choice, which action, was the pivotal push which tipped the proverbial balance, setting the final course us humans would journey through. For example, some would say it was the decisions that lead to the Wall Street Crash of 1929 which allowed Hitler and his Nazis to rise to power, but others would say it was the decisions which lead to his early release from prison that allowed him to take advantage of the crash in the first place. Jovie didn’t know this, but such a shatterpoint had arrived on her doorstep, though she had only a small part to play in events that unfolded under her nose. Despite this though, she knew something was...different, as if a faint sense of foreboding had taken root deep in her mind, unnoticed, but there. As the nights and days passed, Jovie began to feel it’s tendrils encroaching upon her subconscious, warping her nightmares into even more vivid memories of the past. Every night, the smell of burning and death intensified, the hunger for blood and flesh resurfaced, the searing heat and freezing cold rolled over her in waves, and the screams...the screams only got and louder and louder, calling out to her in damnation... It wasn’t long before even her waking hours became consumed with the subtle fear in the darkest recesses of her conscious, driving her to commune with the animals almost every second of every day in hope of respite, after all, they see everything...but they didn't give the answer she was hoping for. Somehow, all of the ants and rats and small creatures that were Jovie’s eyes and ears for so long were beginning to slip away; running, running, always running, never stopping to say why except once. It was a feeling, a simple sensory function which triggered their survival instincts and caused them to desert their homes and flee to the deepest cracks of the earth beyond the sewers and caverns near the surface of this little planet. Jovie always had some trouble communicating with ants and cockroaches and millipedes, but thanks to her newfound clarity of mind, she was able to discern their reason for running, millions of years of evolution all distilled down into one simple human word...fire. "I have seen what will happen to this world, and as a knight, I cannot allow it" Jovie had no idea what it meant, but that was why Time Knight was out here, wings surfing along the air waves of Hell’s Kitchen in search of anything, any hope, any sign of something amiss. Ultimately, there was nothing amiss that wasn’t already being dealt with: some street thugs tried to rob a big scary black man, AKA Luke Cage. It didn’t end well for them, much to her amusement as she watched the brawl with a chuckle. A few moments later, her ears picked up a scuffle not too far from her, and she dropped down into an alley with a small ground-cracking THUD. The thugs had already been shown the hospitality they were due, but that had come at the cost of a broken and bloody woman limping away from the scene. Ever the gentleman (gentle...woman?), Time Knight rushed forward and stopped just shy of putting a gloved hand on the woman’s shoulder, her voice changer crackling to life as she decided instead to offer a soft. “Ma’am...are you ok?”
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" That'd be me. The Spider-Man of tomorrow, here to save today... "
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Post by Rift on Mar 21, 2016 17:03:52 GMT -7
A few blocks away…Daisy and Luke Cage were not the only heroes having a rough day in Hell’s Kitchen. Spider-Man too was dealing with criminals engaged in seemingly random acts of violence and theft. Spider-Man being Spider-Man however, did not luck out enough to get the completely mundane variety of bad guy, the explosion of debris and broken glass behind him testament to the ever present Parker Luck. As he dodged a punch that cracked the asphalt where he had been standing seconds before he sighed. “Wow, you know I say Rhino has the mental acuity of an avocado, but you my friend take the cake. Hamster done fell off that wheel a looooong time ago huh? I mean stealing? In broad daylight? In the Kitchen? You know what they say lurks here don’t you? And no I don’t mean Deodorant Man, but his presence would be of use here too.” “Shuddup!” shouted his attacker. “Oh c’mon Oxy! How long have we been doing this dance? Have I EVER shut up?”
As if on cue Spider-Man sidestepped a kick aimed at his head as Ox’s fellow Enforcer Fancy Dan tried to force the shutting up issue. Luckily his Spider-Sense allowed him to dodge the strike. “Fancy! Oh good, I’m so glad you are here. I mean sure, I danced with the slow kid at the dance to make her feel pretty, but you won’t be stepping on my toes constantly!” he quipped. His spider reflexes kicked in and he avoided another roundhouse kick, this time grabbing the ankle of the outstretched leg and using his superior strength to throw Dan into the last of the Enforcers. Dan slammed into Montana and the two went down in a tangle of bruised limbs. The action also interrupted Montana’s attempt to ensnare Spidey with his lariat, the lasso quickly finding it’s way into the web-slinger’s hands. “Thanks Hannah! I always wanted to try this thing out! Yeehaw!” Spidey shouted. Leaping into Ox’s back he wrapped the lariat around his massive throat and affected a faux southern accent. “This here’s a cattle drive!”Ox in turn yanked the hero off his back and tossed him to the other side of the street where he gracefully caught a lamppost and swung around to crouch atop it. “Ten points for execution, negative ten for the Hulk rip-off routine!”Ox tried to rush over and finish what he started only to discover the other end of the lasso was tied to something beneath a parked truck. “Bad doggy, no pulling on the leash!” Spider-Man declared as Ox stumbled backwards. Without delay he sent a webline over to snag the loot they had stolen and swung it like David vs Goliath with his sling. The makeshift weapon struck the captured Ox in the head knocking him out cold. The webslinger then turned to web up Ox’s partners nice and tight. Hopefully they could shed some light on who hired them and why their brain cells all dropped to zero on the same day.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 20:54:15 GMT -7
Daredevil careened down a shortcut. Angel was faster, but the fire was spreading across the docks like a tinderbox. The issue was a lot bigger than he realized. Armed men were firing at riled up mobs and police of all types from SWAT to Riot Patrol to regular patrolmen. These must've been the Hood's men; He had heard rumors that the cloaked "New Kingpin" had taken control of the Kitchen's docks in recent weeks from under Mr. Negative's nose, and there were at least a hundred of them just firing into the crowd. He stopped on a rooftop just outside of the chaos, trying to zero in his Radar Sense amidst the gunfire and screaming to determine who were police officers and who were criminals. It wasn't easy, though the amount of kevlar on the one side did give an indication. "684! 684! We got a 684 with a 616 in progress!" cried one of the staff sergeants, who was kneeling behind his car, reinforced in recent months with additional plating thanks to Stark International, but he was curled into it, heart rate beating well over his anaerobic zone like a machine gun: thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump . Daredevil had to concentrate to pick it up over the rapid fire RATATATATATATATATATATATATAT! that was firing almost like clockwork. He waited for the pause to reload to strike. As the gunfire quieted down, as expected, he was able to pick up another sound: the whirring of a mechanical suit. Not quite as streamline as a Stark piece, but nonetheless the most advanced piece of hardware on the field. He knew that sound and rolled his dead eyes. The Porcupine. Ex-Con turned amateur vigilante. Well, at least his heart is in the right place, even if he isn't. He also didn't realize that somebody had planted a sticky bomb on his fur laden back. This was going to suck. The Man Without Fear leaped in, swinging down as any New York hero did best, and grabbed the amateur vigilante from the middle of the crossfire. He didn't pay attention to what was said as he pulled his emergency taser and created a micro-EMP on the back of the Porcupine's suit, diffusing the bomb, and likely him for at least a minute. Good. They needed to talk. He heaved with all of his might, feeling something strain as he hauled the near four hundred pounds of man and machinery and pulled him onto a rooftop where they hid for cover, for the moment. He staggered for a second before sitting next to the seated Porcupine. Ow. "What the hell did you think you were doing!?" he asked with a heavy breath, addressing the fact that the sheer numbers being overwhelming for even he or Spider-Man to work solo! Granted the Porcupine was better armored than they were, but not for nothing, the poor kid was nearly blown to smithereens not two seconds ago. He glanced up. Angel. He whistled up to signal to the X-Man their location. The gunfire had ceased for the moment, the gangsters escape cut off from the dock fires, creating a standoff. New game, he thought as he waited for Angel to descend and help.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2016 7:55:12 GMT -7
Luke had just left the jewelry store, sans the watch that cost more than his first car. That's not to say that Luke walked out empty handed. Luke pocketed the cash that had been collected by the shops on that block... his pay for helping rid them of the Hellboys Gang. It was just one of many jobs that he had taken trying to get the Heroes for Hire off the ground. The pop-pop-pop of gunfire sounded off in the distance. It was faint enough that Luke didn't immediately seek the source or start to take precautions. Then the pop-pop-pop became a tat-tat-tat-tat of sustained gunfire. DAMN IT TO HELL muttered Luke as he quickened his pace. Now that he was focused on the noise, he noticed that others were noticing. Shop owners were out looking at each other. With almost a hive mind, they began to close up shops; there had been enough riots in the area to know that innocent store owners were typically targeted by mobs. Luke saw smoke start to rise in the not too far distance. MUST BE THE DOCKS. Rumor held that the docks were the battleground of at least 2 different gangs. One was rumored to be Mr. Negative, the other, well Luke didn't know just yet. As he rounded the corner, he came across a site that was coming a little too common - a costumed individual leaning over an apparently wounded woman. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE, demanded Luke. As of now, he didn't recognized the armored individual. There was no telling if he/she/it was helping or hurting this woman. [TAG DAISY / JOVIE]
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