Log:Money in the Bank

Get Porter 2015/03/20 Grimm Malcolm Porter

1

Malcolm and Gabrielle sit astride Malcolm's bobber-style motorcycle as it weaves merrily through the late evening traffic in the city streets. Both have on helmets, though Gabrielle may have received a heavier duty helmet than usual - Malcolm also has one, possibly two, metal cables securing her to his backside - on this particular occasion. Surely it's just luck of the draw and not Malcolm purposefully trying to keep Grimm from harm.

Considering their modus transportati tonight and the relatively light traffic, it takes only about twenty minutes of riding to get from the CBSU campus to the curious looking deli located on a back street along an under-developed section of the Heights. Doc Wonderman's 24 Hour Delicatessen & Gadget Emporium is a brightly lit bastion of neon, polished chrome, and unnaturally bright white interior lighting amidst a sea of darkened mechanic's shops, mom and pop grocers, and one very large, very closed-for-the-night pet supply store.

When one gets within a block of Doc Wonderman's, it inexplicably smells like bacon, aged & smoked cheddar, and green. No science known to man seems able to prevent the smell from reaching the human (or inhuman) nose. Especially that "green" part, it's the most troubling part of all.

Green, white, orange, purple... who cares what color the bacon smells like? It's still bacon. Which is second only to coffee in its necessity in the world. Which could easily explain why Porter is drawn that way. He already has a cup of coffee in hand, so of course his brain just starts directing him to work his way down The List.

Green is a troubling smell. There've been complaints. Or there would be, but no one wants the bacon and aged smoke cheddar smell to go away. Grimm is happily secured on Malcolm's bike. Even though there's already cables holding onto her, she still has her arms wrapped tightly around Malcolm's waist during the joy ride to promised noms at a rather unique sandwich shop. "Oh. My. Gawd. It smells amazing!" Gabrielle says enthusiastically.

Amazing is one way of describing the smell of 'green', unnerving would be another way of describing it that would be just as perfectly accurate and just as perfectly legitimate. Doc Wonderman's sign is lit up in garrish lavender and orange neon, even the flashing OPEN sign.

Malcolm plants a booted foot on the pavement abruptly and cranks the handlebars hard as he rapidly plays with the throttle. Somehow Malcolm hairpins the bobber around and into an almost textbook parallel parking slot that has been severely intruded upon by a pair of heavy construction vehicles. These vehicles likely have something to do with the project across the street from Doc Wonderman's, but who knows at this hour?

Porter is drawn by his nose as he sips his coffee. Down the walk, past the crane/bucket/digger/whatever that thing is and right to the garish flashing si-"AHH!" He startles and jumps when Malcolm, Grimm, and their swingamabobber suddenly show up in his peripheral vision. Like a foot away. Of course, the cup of coffee doesn't stay in his hand.

Grimm lets out a squeal and grips Malcolm as tight as she can. Which isn't all that tight. She's not that strong. You can tell it's her and not the tires because it's a squeal of delight. "Woohoo! You have -got- to teach me how to park like that," she laughs as she rests against Malcolm's back and catches her breath from the adrenaline rush from the stunt.

"Yeah. Someday, beautiful," replies Malcolm. He tries not to think about how much his foot burns from the maneuver. Malcolm straightens up, a halo of metal cables slowly unfurling from about Grimm's body to slowly retreat under Malcolm's clothing as he dismounts the chopper. Turning, Malcolm offers a cheery smile and a bob of his head to Porter. "Sorry 'bout the close call there, Port. Almost didn't see the parking space."

Gabrielle slides off the back of the bike and unfastens her helmet. When she pulls it off, she shakes her head to let her hair tumble free, then stores the helmet where she found it. "Oh, hey, Porter!" she has a big smile on her face from the ride, and waves to him.

"Oh!" Porter calms a few steps. "Oh. Hey, you two..." He then looks down at the walks to see... his decimated paper cup, it's ambrosia run out onto the concrete.

For a moment or two, Malcolm's head swivels about as though he were tracking something. Eyebrows still raised, Malcolm looks back to Porter and then shifts toward the ruined coffee cup. "Sorry man. Two cups from Doc Wonderman's, on me."

Speaking of construction and diggers, here comes another. The ground across the way in the construction area opens up with crumbling scraping noises. A large battlesuit, bulky in design with a barrel-shaped helm, leaps out of it. "You better be right about this payout. I ain't cheap," a mechanized voice with a thuggish accent announces.

From out of the hole climbs another battle suited figure with armored spikes and a large tail with a clubbed ending and an open port at the end. "You'll get your cut. The guy's loaded," answers the tailed battlesuit.

Malcolm recognize these two. The one with the tail is Ankylosaur. Some two-bit hood who got lucky and stole a VIPER prototype Battlesuit and renamed it. He can barely say his own name. He's been captured and escaped several times and works as a mercenary. He HATES the authorities. He's usually a follower and takes jobs for others, but it seems like he's calling the shots for once.

The other is Armadillo, also a mercenary. These two don't work together usually. He just works for whoever cna pay him. Neither of them are all that bright. Armadillo, however, has been known to be a sucker for a pretty face.

Armadillo

The Armadillo armor is a simply styled, fairly big and bulky suit of powered armor, with a barrel helm-like helmet and a scale mail-like configuration in front. Its colors are silver, gold, and green. The Palm Blasters are evident at all times; the Wrist and Shoulder blasters pop out from obvious compartments in the suit.

Ankylosaur

Ankylosaur wears a suit of steel grey powered armor patterned aft er the dinosaur of the same name. Sharp spikes stud the shoulders, gauntlets, helmet, and other parts of it, and it has an artificial tail, with a large spiked knob on the end, attached to a backpack-like structure. The tail functions as a grenade launcher as well as a way to smash superheroes.

Malcolm's head swivels to fix on the hole that the A-Listers have created across the street... Which is probably for the best. God forbid they dropped his motorcycle into a hole in the street. You could probably see the murder from space. Where was I? Oh right.

"Oh good. Ankylosaur and Armadillo. Just what I needed for a dinner date with my girlfriend."

Porter looks up from his coffee and blinks. At Malcolm. "Huh? Wait, armadillos? And I'm pretty sure the other ones are extinc-Oh..." He follows Malcolm's swivelled head and blinks. Then frowns at the suit people.

Just their...luck? Gabrielle glances at the two Big Bads surfacing across the street. She starts looking like she's ready for a fight, then blinks and realizes...her powers are still not safe to use. "Well...shick. Usually I'd say this is the fun surprise part of the date," Gabrielle smiles impishly at Malcolm and shrugs helplessly.

Ankylosaur points a finger towards Porter as if stabbing the air. "You. Come with us quietly, and nobody gets hurt," he warns. "You resist or get clever? We're gunna have ta POUND yas and yer friends!"

"... You... Want Porter?"

Malcolm looks and sounds abjectly horrified. It certainly couldn't be because he's having flashbacks to Hardcase wired into some kind of machine that fed off of her luck powers. He looks at Porter and quirks an eyebrow in silent inquiry, rolling his shoulders slowly as he comments to Grimm, "Armadillo's got a soft spot for pretty ladies, Gabrielle. I'm sure you'll be just fine."

Porter quirks a brow at Ankylosaur. Then pans it to Malcolm. Then shrugs. Then it's back to Ankles. "Right... and why in the hell would I want to go with you? You're not going to be pounding anyone." Yeah, he doesn't sound thrilled. He remembers Ankles. Mostly him tearing chunks of armor off of Para.

"Why...do I not feel comforted by that?" Gabrielle asks Malcolm with a worried, uneasy grin.

Ankylosaur's finger is still frozen in mid-air, pointed at Porter. "Because...because I just threatened you and your friends, pipsqueak!" he shouts back after a confused pause. Did he not explain why he would want to go with him after his demands? He did do that, right? He looks aside to Armadillo, then back to Porter. "So. If you don't want yer friends hurt, you'll come with us without a fuss. Then, nobody gets pounded." Not the brightest, is he?

Porter could've sworn that he ...convinced Ankles to leave the last time he was threatening someone Porter cared about. But maybe Ankles forgot about that. "You're right. I don't want my friends hurt. So don't hurt them." Though maybe his point was made, since Porter starts walking towards him.

"Port. Man. You don't gotta do this," intones Malcolm. Despite his words and the situation, Malcolm isn't exactly pleading with Porter. It's more of a 'No, really, this is not mandatory' sort of statement.

"That little guy is our meal ticket?" Armadillo sounds doubtful. "He don't like like a billion bucks."

"Trust me, I saw it on the news," Ankylosaur assures. "Watch 'im. He's wiley." He watches Porter walking towards them and lowers his hand. His mechanical tail swishes a little. "Glad to see ya got smart."

Gabrielle looks up at Malcolm as Porter marches off. "We can't just let them take him," she whispers. She's the one doing the pleading. "Not after he helped you save me..."

Porter watches the pointing hand drop as he walks up to Ankles, casting a glance back to Malcolm and Grimm. "No. It's Ok. I'm not letting anybody get hurt because of me." And with that, there's a flash of something probably not seen too often on his face. Anger. What if they'd shown up at his place? With Kyssie? Or Para? Don't they have enough things trying to kill them already?! And he hasn't forgotten Ankles. When he first saw him, he was literally tearing Para's chestplate off. No. He's not letting anybody get hurt over him. When his head turns back to Ankles, his torso turns, too, And his arm comes up. So he might not be able to reach to punch the guy in the face, but he can still punch him. This ends now.

Ankylosaur sounds smug and victorious. "That's right. Since yer being so reasonable, ain't nobody gunna get hurt. We're just gonna ransom ya off for your billions. Simple trans...transtrac...simple deal." That was painful, listening to him try and say transaction. But not as painful as the surprise sucker uppercut receives from Porter. It seems Porter's been training how to hit things? Big metal things. Because Ankylosaur's head snaps back and painfully pulls muscle in his neck. And the lights go out of in his helm as some of the internal cabling breaks. His tail droops. "Oww! Whadda wallop!" he says in a daze.

"Gabrielle, now would be a good time for you to take cover," hisses Malcolm as he spots the expression on Porter's face. Malcolm knows that expression. He suspects he's worn that expression himself on a few occasions.

Malcolm's body fairly explodes in metal fibers that weave themselves around him in a storm of semi-solid steel. Gleaming in the oddly colored lights cast by Doc Wonderman's, Forge narrows his metal-rimmed eyes at the A-Team. Twisting his metal body, Forge's hand wraps around a metal boomerang that simply flows out of the flesh of his forearm and into his grip.

Completing that fluid motion, Forge lets fly an Alumarang toward Ankylosaur's staggered self. Here's hoping his aim is true.

The Alumarang hurtles along a weird path that curves oddly before it arcs back in to *CRACK* Ankylosaur dead in the jaw. It ricochets off of the powered armor goon's jaw, be it armored or not, and starts its wobbling return flight as the already off-kilter mercenary collapses unceremoniously onto his back on the pavement.

MEANWHILE, The Ultra Birdarang adds one to The Collective Boomerang Villain KO Count. It promptly returns to partying with The Ultimate Stereo.

"Wow, I didn't know he could hit that hard. He could've pummeled me when I...er...right, getting back now," Gabrielle murmurs to herself, and then starts retreating to the sandwich emporium reluctantly. She wants to help. She just...can't right now.

Armadillo snorts as Ankylosaur gets knocked out. "That chump. Just leaves more for me. Now I'm going to have to hurt you with my wrist blasters. He said we needed you alive for ransom. Didn't say you needed to be in one piece." Armadillo raises his right wrist at Porter and a wrist blaster pops out and starts charging up with yellow energy, which then streaks towards Porter.

Ankylosaur groans dazedly and squirms a bit, but he's still pretty down and out of it.

Porter gets blasted. Well, technically, his jacket gets blasted. The oversized jacket. A sizzling hole is burned through front and back... but it doesn't really hit anything flashy between. A slight grazing contact burn. Maybe?

The Alumarang returns to Forge's metal hand and promptly liquefies, returning to the general mass of biometal sheathing Forge's body. He turns his gaze slowly toward Armadillo, one eyebrow quirking upward as he notes the damage to Porter's jacket.

"Armadillo, I am going to give you this one and only chance to surrender. I am going to count to three (3) and if you have not powered down your suit and surrendered, I will march over there and rip that damn thing off of you."

Forge cracks his knuckles obnoxiously as he very patiently intones, "One."

Armadillo just laughs at Malcolm. "You're not going to scare me off from a payday like this, chump."

Porter was somewhat satisfied with Ankles' surprise. He's way more satisfied when Ankles buckles. He shoots Mal a nods and a "Thanks" before looking back to Armadillo. "You know, if you grab me, and I'm the only one who can get the money... how would you get it?" Just occurred to him, and he's a bit more relaxed now that Ankles is down. Or just more sarcastic than ticked off. "And he's got a good point. You should just give it up."

Armadillo seems to consider that. "I'll figure that out later." He doesn't seem to worried about the details. His massive claws flex and he digs down into the street. CrunchCrunchCRUNCH. "But I guess I will need you in once piece after all. So it's the Palm Blasters for you!" He raises his hands towards Porter as the opening ports glow from within.

Porter ducks the incoming blast. Which then ricochets off of a very shiny parked car (Uber Wax, The Uber Shine! TM), then off a puddle, to veer past Armadillo, hit another parked car, a lamppost, and then nails Porter in the back of the head. And he goes down.

Porter groans and shakes his head to try and clear it.

Right about now, there's probably a voice trying not to yell too loudly, but okay, it's yelling at Porter to get out of there. And it may have been doing that from the start.

Grimm sees Porter go down and throws caution and doctor's orders out the window. Dark energy starts to boil off of her and she stomps forward. "You aren't taking him, Jerkface. You should've run while you had the chance. The shadows stretch up and out of her sides in multiple waving tendrils ten meters long and about a meter wide. She digs her feet into the street and stretches her hand out at Armadillo in a downwards swiping motion, and the corresponding tendril starts to come down towards Armadillo.

Grimm plays whack-a-mole with an Armadillo. WHAAAAMM! The Tendril comes down and smacks Armadillo down into his hole. A trickle of blood starts to run from Gabrielle's nose and she wavers a little as the tendril draws back up to reveal Armadillo sprawled on his back, but not shakened. He looks better off than she does.

Armadillo shakes his bucket head and stands back up. "I hate to hit a pretty lady. So," he ignores her for now and digs through the concrete to get a little closer to Porter, then reaches out with a giant claws hand to try and grab his ankle.

Armadillo's mits clamp down on Porter and start dragging him into the hole with Armadillo. "Money in the bank," he chortles darkly.

Armadillo just holds onto Porter for now, in a one-armed bear-hug now that he's got him in the hole with him.

The Palm Blasters very nearly shoot Forge in both the tuchus and the pec while the blasts are ricocheting around on their mad hunt for Porter's skull. Forge counts to two before Porter hits the ground. He narrows his eyes at the half-submerged Armadillo as Porter is snatched by the ankle.

"Three."

Forge's legs take on their all too familiar spring appearance as he keeps his eyes narrowed. With a subtle *SPROING*, Forge sails forward and toward Armadillo. Somewhere in flight, a sledgehammer oozes out of Forge's liquid metal flesh and hardens with a dull *crack*. Landing nimbly upon his feet, Forge spins around once before bringing down the hammer.

You know. On Armadillo's head... Or, at least, that's Forge's plan.

It sounds off like a car crashing into a trash can. At least Armadillo's bucket-shaped helm doesn't crumple inwards, or else he'd need the jaws of life to get it pried off his face. He drops Porter as he goes flying back, out of his protective hole, and into a steel girder at the construction site behind him. He dents the girder and falls slumped against it.

Straightening up, Forge whirls his sledgehammer around his hand for a few seconds as an end battle pose. He calls over at Armadillo, "Next time you best respect the three count." Metal promptly starts sinking back into Malcolm's flesh and blood, the tall man looking back and forth between Grimm and Porter alike.

With a sigh, Malcolm looks directly into the camera and comments, "I guess it's two jail cells and two ER visits, on me."

Porter is let go. That's the good part. Gravity catches him. That's the bad part. "Ow." He says as he hits the ground.

The shadow tendrils sprouting from Gabrielle begin to sag and slump, dropping to the concrete like coils of rope as exertion takes its toll. She wobbles and plunks herself down on the curb to rest, panting over such minor use of her abilities. "Great Job,  Handsome. Yuh-you...alright...Porter?"

Letting out a long sigh, Malcolm pulls out his PDA. He calmly dials Starguard, rattles off his badge number and identification information, and requests a heavy arrest team for Team A'dward, along with an ambulance for Porter and Grimm. Ending the call, Malcolm looks back and forth between the other heroes and inquires, "You two going to survive long enough for medical professionals to arrive?"

Porter shakes his head. To clear it, not answer. Then he gets up. "I'm Ok... Gabrielle! Why'd you do that?!" Now he's worried about her, since she's the wozzy bleeding one.

Grimm pinches her nose and tilts her head back to try and stop the bleeding. "I'll be okay in a few, Mal. No need for an ambulance," she tries to assure him in a nasally sounding voice. She startles and straightens her head as Porter yells at her. "Cuz I thought they were gonna take you! And...and I couldn't let them do that..." she says defensively. She starts off strong, but stammers at the end as she sounds...meek? Embarrassed?

Concern flickers across Malcolm's face as he boggles at the conversation going on around him. The tall man lets out a long sigh and shakes his head, clearing his thoughts as he tries to come up with a good, clean solution to the cross-talking he hears. Opening his eyes again, Malcolm helpfully suggests, "We're friends. We go out on a limb for one another, but that doesn't mean we need to go blowing out our superpower glands or whatever. Let's try to keep from blowing ourselves up or putting ourselves in unnecessary danger, yeah?"

Porter rubs the back of his head a little sheepishly. "I'm Ok. Really. Sorry. Thanks. I mean... just don't want anybody getting hurt over me." Now a sigh as his hand drops. "Got enough of that already."

Grimm tries to sniff, but fails with nose pinched tight. After a few moments, she lets go. At least the nose bleed stopped. She looks up at Malcolm guiltily and pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Sorry, Mal. I'll try to be better about follow the doctor's orders. I just freaked out a little. I mean, he's got a kid, and now DEMON is after her, probably because he helped," she sighs and slumps her head down. After a pause, she lifts her head. "I'll be better," she looks at Malcolm with wide, watery puppy eyes.

For lack of a better sound to describe it, Malcolm *PLONK*s heavily down beside Grimm. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into a close, warm hug before kissing her on the forehead. "You are better," comments Malcolm, smiling gently, "Better than you were. Better than I deserve. Better than Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber over there."

Pausing a moment, largely so he can jerk his thumb toward Ankylosaur and Armadillo as emphasis of his point, Malcolm looks over to Porter and gestures with his head toward his motorcycle. "Take a load off, Port."

Sighing once more, Malcolm leans his head back and comments, "You two really need to learn how to relax and let your friends help you. I mean, jeez, do you two really think these jokers are going to actually hurt /ME/ of all people?"

Grimm leans against Malcolm and nuzzles into the hug. "Pfft, whatever. You're the one that's better than I deserve," she counter attacks, but smiles back softly. "And you're right. You're super extra tough. These guys didn't stand a chance. Especially against the guys who stormed a DEMON stronghold to help me." Well, more like snuck. Very sneakily. But she doesn't know that.

Porter sighs again and shuffles to the curb to sit down. Sure, it's not the motorcycle, but it's not right next to Grimm and Mal, either.