Log:The Ice Cream Fiend

2017/07/21 Portennant Antigon Old_Man_Griffin Rick Copycat Forsaken Yutaka Wolf 1

Amidst all the sunshine and frolic of the summer, something tenebrous, ominous, and vague has been lurking as of late. Whether chattered on HeroNet, noted in Point of Concern memos, or whispered about in dark alleys and smokey bars, there's been scuttlebutt.

A smelly, extra scuttly butt, too.

Rumor/report/tip/your uncle Bob has it that something dangerous is making its way into CB from the west, this weekend. Now, what, exactly, that something dangerous is unconfirmed. Speculation and theories are as varied as the sources: a new addictive designer drug; high tech weapons with, or for, a well-organized street gang; possibly one or more WMDs, fusion, chemical, or biological.

There are many, many theories on what and who, none of which can be confirmed. All that's narrowed down is a when and where.

Creekfield has no towering buildings. So where is a cape wearing grapple gun using anti-hero to perch?! Well, tonight Forsaken is just on top of a bakery. Hey, it's tall, right? But she's watching things... a weird feeling of ominous dread in her gut.

Yutaka, like all the heroes, in Colonial Bay has heard the rumbling, both on the street, and in the clubs, and so he's found him self in suburbia, He's not sure what hes looking for, and remains incognito, until something pops up. Instead of his normal high fashion clothing, he wears cargo shorts, and a graphic t-shirt, shades for the sun, and he's just hanging out..

Catching word of the mysterious event on HeroNet, Copycat tried to convince her fellow heroes to look into it. After being waved off for believing in silly rumors, she decided to check it out herself. Flying out from the east, she dips down low as she gets closer to the supposed location, to hide the green trail of energy she leaves behind her. She drops down in an alleyway and proceeds on foot, keeping an eye out for anything ominous. Of course, a pink-haired heroine is hardly inconspicuous.

Wolf has heard the darkly ominous wisperings of the restless spirits in the forests to the West. A murmurring of the think night air, a creak of an overhead bough. The land itself is restless, as the moon fades now from Half to Dark. Something untoward lies afoot. But: What, and How, and Why?

Presently, this almost picture-perfect example of suburbia is exactly that. Children play in yards and sprinklers. Backyard barbecues happen. While some picket fences are bright and new and others faded or rotting, all seems generally what one would expect. Something for a postcard.

And then you hear it.

First, the blaring, over-amplified, and shrill notes make those with sensitive ears, or even some with regular ears, cringe in horror.

Children cease their play in mid-giggle. Turn. And scream.

For around the corner it turns and begins its slow, methodical, inexorable approach....

An ice cream truck.

Oh god, barbecue smell. Forsaken's stomach rumbles as she smells that. She reaches a hand to rub her exposed stomach. Hey, she has abs and likes to show'em off. What? Either way, she's about to give up and go find a bite when she hears the notes. She imagines the age old comedian Eddie Murphy yelling, ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM! And she turns her head to look that way. How evil! Well, not really. She never really got to enjoy ice cream trucks as a kid. She was too busy bouncing from foster home to foster home. But hey, she can at least keep an eye on kids. She really loves doing that. So she just leans over the edge of the rooftop and gazes down upon the kids queuing up to get ice cream.

Yutaka is looking for something out of the ordinary, this isn't it, but if nothing else, its a hot day, and what's better than Ice Cream and more natural, than getting some. He casually walks over, not wanting to cut in line, he waits for the kids to get theirs before he steps forward for some.

Copycat peeks around from the side alley of a small mom and pop corner store, selling cute home decor. She can't really believe how picturesque this part of town is. "...can't believe anything as bad as they say could be going on down here," she murmurs to herself. She looks left, then right, before stepping out to the sidewalk. So much for keeping under cover.

Wolf winces and blinks, his shaggy brows furrowing as his mind attempts to contain the sudden shrill blaring of the approaching. . . ice cream truck? Peering curiously out from underneath his stakeout position in the hedgerow, he regards the approaching conveyance with interest, his tail slowly threshing back and forth to rustle the lowest leaves as his stomach takes noted interest in the possibility of FOOD. Food trucks and children together make for -all- manner of fortuitous possibilities: of dropped tidbits, fallen cones, and a plethora of other assorted pavement-treasures, just waiting to be scavenged. ..

Rick Mason has the day off from work. It probably helps that Indira is scheduled to be attending a gallery opening in Toronto and if there's one place on Earth that's safe for an alien plant person, it's god damned Canada.

What does an Undead Soldier do on his day off from work?

Stalk his best friend's girl, of course!

While Copycat looks around the streets, Rick Mason lurks in the background in baggy cargo shorts, a faded concert t-shirt, and cross-trainers. Rick Mason glances in the direction of the ice cream truck, red eyebrows quirking upward as he regards the truck. Something about it seems especially attention-grabbing.

The Happy Smile Ice Cream! (according to the garish logos splashed on its sides) conveyance comes to a stop at the corner, to be immediately mobbed by excited customers. The side window opens to reveal a middle-aged man with bright eyes despite a rather grizzled countenance.

"Hello, kids! Let's get you treated!"

His smile softens much of his visage, and may also bring a sense of familiarity to some. With the exception of an additional facial scar or three, the not-quite-grandfatherly man merrily dispensing frozen dairy desserts is the spitting image of Griffin Freeman.

a.k.a. The best friend.

The corner of Copycat's mouth quirk up in a smile at the ice cream truck. Nothing better than ice cream on a hot evening, right? She starts to make her way to the truck once it stops nearby, sliding her hands into her pockets. She's all cheer and smiles until she catches sight of the ice cream vendor. She slows down as time seems to do the same. Her smile begins to drop and her brows lift up before knitting together.

"Oh...no," she murmurs with awful theories of the ice cream man.

Oddly, the forever grim, eloquently sourpuss Forsaken doesn't really have an issue here. She sees the kids enjoying themselves and she just smiles up there under her mask. Okay so her mask wouldn't cover the smile. Her face almost looks like it is breaking anyway. Either way she loves seeing kids happy. It's a weak spot for her. But someone tries to hurt them... and IT.. IS.. ON.

Wolf trots along in the wake of the passage of the ice cream truck and the ebb of the tide of incoming small humans: each brandishing pocket change and bills of minor denominations. He is content to watch and to wait for fallen scoops and cones, looking like your regular old well-groomed suburban car-chasing neighborhood dog as he keeps pace with the frozen-sugar -inspired cavalcade. That is, until he spots the spitting-image of his friend Griff driving the truck. Then, he stops.

You scream. I scream. We all scream for ice cream. The initial mob is momentairly sated, and others come from up and down the street or out of homes to make their way for theirs. Out of the modest home that the truck happened to park in front of steps a happy couple. Or something like that?

The young man who's a half stride in front doesn't have memorable stature or striking features, but his face has likely been seen just about everywhere, here and there in the city. His record-breaking lottery winnings (one of the causes for said exposure) could easily explain the immaculately-tailored, if rather conspicuous slate gray suit. While anything BUT imposing in height, head and shoulders are carried as if confident that he was at least ten feet tall. No slouching nor slumping.

A step behind would be his ...woman(?) dressed in her summer best. Which looks to be a gray and black matte suit of body armor. Her rather impressive stature makes his even less so, even if she isn't attired as well. The one additional oddity is a glaringly bright pink bow that is attached to the upper left of her helm. Stapled? Rivetted? Epoxied?

Even the Porters enjoy ice cream on a summer day, despite the utter lack of any sign of children of their own.

Yutaka waits for the kids to quit fighting over all of their treats, the face of Griffin is someone that Yutaka knows, but not as Yutaka. "Interesting.." he says to himself, as he steps forward, "Got any drumsticks?" he says when its his turn.

He is unaware of the others, or if he is aware, he is keeping it to himself. "Or any magnums?"

Yutaka is not expecting to see Porter and Paragon here but it makes sense, they're heroes, and everyone woiuld know about about this..

"Hey..Porter..Para!" he says with some excitement, Its been a long time since he's seen either, and while Porter may not know his more powered up ID Para would and would know why he happens to be here.

"Long time! How have you both been? How's Kyssie?"

"For crap's sake."

Rick Mason looks at the scarred Griffin Freeman in the ice cream truck. He then looks at the arriving Porters. There is a long, uncomfortable pause as Yutaka excitedly calls to the Family Porter. Slowly, Rick Mason buries his face in the palm of his hand.

All Rick wanted to do was keep Cat safe. This is turning straight into a regular fluster-clucking.

And Forsaken has heard things on the streets, but hasn't been personally involved in enough things to have a single freakin' clue what's going on here. She just watches from a distance.. vaguely amused at the antics of the others around here. She folds her arms under her bustline and leans a shoulder against the AC unit beside her... watching still.

Copycat hasn't even noticed her secret stalker yet. She may give her secret protector a run for his money as she gets near a potentially dangerous situation. Her fingers wiggle slowly in indecision, before her hands ball up into tiny decisive fists that signal she may be about to do something stupidly brave. This is followed by her marching in, eyeing the Porters cautiously as she gets close to the ice cream truck.

When she sees Yutaka, though...that's when she goes sheet white and her fists clench even harder.

Wolf tilts his shaggy angular head to one side and lifts his left forepaw slightly up off the pavement and holds it there as he searches the mob of small humans, parsing through the stream of unfamiliar faces as he looks in vain for the visage of the small girl who once pulled his ears and kicked his ribs on a sojourn at the beach.

Porter's focus is on the truck and Griffin, though he isn't ignorant of Yutaka's approach and greeting. He responds by holding up a hand to signal a pause without looking to him. This is so he can conduct the transaction of handing Griffin a stack of cash. "I will take everything you have. To include the truck." To ensure no interruption, his Paragon paramor also extends a hand, or rather an entire arm, in Yutaka's path to prevent him from walking any nearer. Unlike Porter, her faceplate immediately snaps around to keep a bead on Yutaka.

Yutaka raises an eyebrow...((..the hell?)) he thinks to himself, but pauses, Porter is rich, rich enough to do this, but he also knows that Porter is usually a laid back guy, this hard approach seems strange, but it wouldn't surprise him if Porter somehow had information that others couldn't find on their own. He and Para have not talked for a long time, but this..seems extreme. Any normal human would wait..observe..and be taken aback..so he acts that way as well...stepping back nervously, he slowly backs away, nodding..

Up until the point of the faceplate, Forsaken was happy to just stand back and observe. Something about the way that faceplate just SNAPPED into position... says to her that this person is prepared to be a lot less friendly.

Her hand flashes down and draws her grapnel-launcher from her holster and yet... she hesitates. Just a moment. No point in jumping down to intervene if it's truly not needed. She doesn't want to -care- the kids after all.

Wolf circles back to re-approach the truck from the non-driver, non-childstream, non-cash-transaction side, taking up position in that "blind spot" from which you can't see the driver in the mirrors and from which he can't see you either. . . you know, that spot that if you accidentally wander into as a dog you have a very decent chance of being accidentally nearly run over, or having your tail smushed by tires and then beeped at and cusssed at in.

The wad of cash is taken by the Ice Cream Man. "You're very kind, sir. Sorry, kids, but we're all out." He's still smiling. "I'm sure if you ask -real- nice, your folks will take you to get some more."

There's a huge chorus of disappionted "AWWW" before his suggestion takes hold and they dart away for parents. He closes the window, then moves through the truck to exit through the driver's door.

Only now does Porter turn to Yutaka, taking a moment to straighten his tie. "My apologies. Now, what was it you wanted, my friend?" He looks to Yutaka expectantly a moment before gesturing to Paragon and the truck without diverting his attention. "Would you be a dear and park this in back?"

The fully armed and operational Paragon lowers her arm and steps between the two men to the truck. So that she can grasp, lift, and then walk for the backyard while carrying the truck overhead. At least there's no danger to tails from tires.

As Paragon walks away with an ice cream truck over her head, Rick Mason peels his palm free of his face. He sighs quietly as his brown eyes track toward the Copycat marching on Griffin. Rick takes this opportunity to circle away from the group forming around Porter and Yutaka to instead discreetly trail after Paragon.

Don't worry, Rick's white. This makes him non-threatening the suburbs in the United States of America.

Copycat stiffens and watches the truck as it gets carried off and away. She pauses and watches, and decides to give Yutaka--of all people here--a wide berth before heading after the stranger who looks so very much like Griffin. And she's seen that once before already this week.

"Hey...you there. I don't know what you're up to out here..." she warns quietly as the kids begin to disperse. Her heart starts to beat a little faster with anticipation.

This isn't Porter..which likely means it isn't Paragon, which also means it probably isn't that super powered other guy with the laser eyes. And if they are who they seem not to be, then they are being mind controlled. It all sucks.

"Uh..nothing nothing, just..I guess you really want the ice cream.." Yutaka continues to back away. A super or 2 in colonial bay is nothing..a super or two buying a whole ice cream truck and disappointing kids..weird..then one of them picking up the whole thing, while another just walks away quietly...screwed up. But right now, there is nothing he can do.

"Yeah..no worries, I'll go to the mall or something."

Yeah. The kids seem disappointed, but disappointed is not injured, not harmed. Forsaken watches still, but.. they legally purchased the truck. They can do what they want with it, even if it is a bit douchey.

She shrugs her shoulders, "Colonial Bay is a strange strange city." she mutters to herself there.

Wolf *wagwagwagwagwags* a bit in relief as the truck is lifted away. One less variable, one less obstacle, one less complication. He wheels and re-positions to distract and/or "herd to a safe distance" any laggard ice-cream-seeking young humans, his eyes pausing on the Griffalike for an instant as he circles back and cavorts about.

Maybe-Not-Paragon carries her newly-acquired stash of ice cream in a truck-cone through the picket fence and around the house (at least not through) to set it down in the back yard. Meanwhile, (Im?)Probably-Not-Porter tsks at the retreating Yutaka. "Oh, please. No reason for you to leave. I can share..."

The now truckless Not-Griffin give the approaching Cat a once-, then twice-over. He smiles again; warm, but... also something else. "Well, don't you look sweet and tasty... and I -was- in the business to know!" He winks, then his smile fades a great deal. "If you don't know what we're up to, then I suggest you go with that young man to the mall..." He waves her towards Yutaka.

Rick Mason pauses at the fence, poking his head around it to peer into the back yard. That's neighborly and not at all suspicious, right?

Yutaka shakes his head.."Nah..just wanted a drumstick anyway..plus..as heroes, I'm sure you work up an appetite..." he looks around kids..homes..dammit Copycat..Copycat...

The offer to share has him worried as well..

Rick Mason pauses at the fence, poking his head around it to peer into the back yard. That's neighborly and not at all suspicious, right?

"I'm not going anywhere," Copycat grumps as her mouth turns into an annoyed pout as she tries to sound angry and intimidating. It fails miserably due to her petite stature. "Especially not with that creep." It's then that she gets serious and points a finger (Gasp) at Griffin. "And especially not with you up to no good. I don't know what you were hiding in that van, but I'm not letting you get away with it."

Yeah, Forsaken was about to depart when that last part was said. What we're up to... up to suggests nefariousness to her, and she narrows her eyes before crouching once more. Now she's watching intently, avidly. Still collecting intelligence now. She is pondering a way to approach without being seen. Maybe wait for dark.

"Now, now," Porter speaks up, looking to Cat. "You shouldn't be so judgemental, my dear. I daresay that delighting hungry children with ice cream is probably one of the better things he has ever done in his life?" A brow arches at Griffin. "Am I close?"

Quasi-Griffin smiles anew, though now the scars aren't softened but accentuated. It's something rather feral. "Ain't seen any kids laughing in a long time. It was almost touching." He pauses and glances over his shoulder towards the four-legged friend no longer in a blind spot, eyes brightening with a visible glow. "You know... ain't safe letting wild animals wander around. For the kids, I mean."

Wolf finishes working the thankfully diminishing and unevenly dispersing crowd of human younglings, herding and distracting until all are safely out of the immediate area. Once that's done, he settles back onto his haunches and regards the unknown Griff-ter from across the street, wondering who's -really- drifted into town after all. Squnching up his nose and twitching his whiskers thoughtfully, he blinks a bit at the internal rebuff his questing glance encounters. He returns the hypnoGriff's glowing gaze, nonplussed. Certainly this. . . copy. . . is definitely -not- his friend. The question remains: It this ?man? then, of necessity, an enemy? Is this copying, somehow, the source of the spirits' disquieted unease? Is this the Un-named Threat, and by whose reckoning?

Copycat's eyes narrow a bit. Then widen a moment as she gasps sharply and falls a step back and a sudden realization. That strange blonde couldn't do the eye thing. How is this Griffin copying her Griffin's glowing eyes? There is a very short list of others that might be able to do that. And one of them tried to kill her.

"Y-you....you're..." Copycat starts, but she's not sure. If she's right, she's not even sure she could say the name aloud. But suddenly she realizes just how bad this all is.

She tries swallowing her fear. To be brave like Griffin or Rick would be. "Don't pretend like you care about the kids. Get away from them, this instant," she threatens, emboldened as she reaches out to try and...not hit him. But play a game of tag maybe? Just a touch.

Copycat isn't the most graceful of heroes. There's a good reason she doesn't wear heels while on duty. But even with the flat souls built into her uniform, she still manages to trip over her own two feet as she overextends to reach for the pseudo-Griffin while her foot hits a raised part of the road.

"Eeep!" she exclaims quietly as her green eyes grow wide. She not only swipes short of him, she starts to tumble forward with the momentum of her swipe, ending up face down on the street. Her cheeks blush bright pink at her predicament, glad that Griffin and Rick aren't there to see her now. It'd just make them even MORE protective than they already are.

And.. that kicks things off. Forsaken sees Cat trying to do her 'thang', and is already in motion before she misses. She leaps from the side of the bakery and fires her grapnel at a telephone pole. She is hoping everyone is focused on the activity up ahead, and she pulls on the line while retracting and aiming to land a lot closer, but still in cover. She knows she can't get there right now, but she might, just might be able to arrive in time to be helpful.

"Woah! Careful, there, Pinkie Pie!" Maybe Griffin the ice cream man isn't so different, as he steps up to catch Cat. Sure, he catches her chest with his and her hips with his hands, but that's what gentlemen do, right? Then he cups her cheekbones in rough, calloused hands. "Don't want to hurt that pretty little face, now, do you?"

Yutaka see's the heroine falter, before things have even begun, instincts make him want to help the young girl, but the Not-Griffin, catches her..in a rather letcherous way, but catches her none the less. He isn't sure how to change, but perhaps there is a way if he can get around the house. "Uh..you know what? I'll definitely take an ice cream..I mean, the mall..right?"

He so wants to jump into action, but he just can't.

Portennant arches a brow at the ...attack? accident? swooning? "Please don't hurt yourself so soon. That would spoil the fun." Speaking of fun, the truck is now 'parked,' so Paragon tromps her way back to the street. Again through the picket fence.

Wolf sheds his furry "neighborhood dog" mein, now that all the kids are safely herded out of danger. He drops into his natural and more spiritually robust form, *whuff*-ing out a sigh of relief that the time of truth seems to be approaching.

Copycat finds herself caught, gazes up in surprise and fear at this Griffin as he cups her cheek, and then loses herself. Not in the romantic way, though. She gasps at the sudden contact. A flood of basic memories, instincts, and awfulness come to mind: He's a super soldier. Combat. Lots and lots of combat. First, it was about duty. Survival. But then it became FUN! Who says you can't mix business with pleasure? Prove your surperiority by surviving and making your enemies not. Keep doing it to maintain both edge and standing. Not to mention the joys of murder.

But then she starts to enjoy those awful memories as her body changes.

Her skin darkens and her body bulks up, while her hair shrinks inwards. She closes her eyes as she starts forgetting who she really is. When Copycat opens her--now his--eyes again, they're glowing with golden energy.

Wolf's eyes widen and his fuzzy brows crinkle and fold with worry-creases at this clear and incontrovertible evidence that he's not the only shifter on the block. Oh. Wait. -OR- is the copy-of-Griff making -more- copies of itself, using those it grabs for. . . the chassis or raw material for the transformation? What, exactly, just happened? Wolf pads cautiously neoGriff-wards, approaching from down-wind, *sniffing* the air, concentrating: When in doubt, trust your nose!

The sudden change causes Porter's brows to lift further. "Well, that was somewhat ... unexpected.... to a degree. Unforeseen, but certainly interesting." His brows lower and the corners of his mouth lift as he looks to all present. "Conveniently, happenstance and unexpected events happen to be the topic of the day."

Griffin blinks as he's suddenly self-embracing and releases the other him. Darth Paragon watches her/him, but otherwise remains stoic and silent.

Yutaka notices the dog...wolf now, this is getting weirder and weirder...and more dangerous. He's been a victim of Copycat...and now he's really worried. Especially if these three have the powers of those who shape they've copied or stolen. "Isn't it always that way with you Porter?" he says blandly..

Copycat straightens up and brushes himself off, taking a step back and eyeing his double suspiciously, as if HE were the imposter for a moment. To sight, sound, and smell, s/he is identical to Griffin on a cellular level. It's too bad she doesn't remember who she is so she could take the time to appreciate what it feels like to be so tall and imposing.

"No," Porter's tone is quite adamant and he focus his gaze squarely upon Yutaka. "Do not mistake me for that stumbling, flailing bafoon. Now that I am aware of ... this one's particular quirks," he gestures to the newest Griffin in lieu of pronoun, "I will keep them in mind. They appear to be quite useful." One brow arches halfway. "Perhaps one or more of the rest of you could, as well? I do prefer to surround myself with useful individuals."

Yutaka nods, "Well..this might be an unwise thing to do..but.." he steps forward and unleashes an side round house to not-Porter's head.

Porter is caught unaware... or almost seems to be, but the sudden boot to the head. A slight lean away turns the potential impact into a minimal glancing blow. Extremely minimal.

Wolf's shaggy angular muzzle shifts from consideration of the duoGriff to turn toward the suddenly imperious Portalike. It seems that -someone- here actually knows what's going on? Or, at the very least, one of the people is not nearly as confused as all of the rest of us. Wolf's gaze turns inward as he shifts his weight lower onto his forepaws. He relaxes, summoning up his inner reserves of spiritual strength...

He couldn't unleash, but that would have hurt a normal, unfortunately, nothing less than what he expected happened, but he couldn't just walk away either. The strike was quick, accurate, and ultimately, useless. He is likely going to be injured, or put in the hospital. It is a dangerous gambit, but the only one he has right now.

Okay, the fight has started. Forsaken fires another grapple line. She sticks it to the siding of a nearby house and hits retract. This sends her whooshing through the air. She disengates the grapnel and uses her glide cape to halt her forward progress to land beside Porter-wannabe and Yutaka. She recognized his kick and she grins. In Japanese she remarks, "Well performed kick."

Then she whips her grapnel about and lashes out towards the fake Porter herself. "Let me follow up on your setup." she says, still in Japanese.

This strike lands a bit more solidly, causing Portennant's head to snap to the side. He still weathers it quite well. Well enough to comment, "I hope you are aware that this is a very poor choice..."

Porter eyes Forsaken, as the one who connected with any force. He made a statement, and thus it must come to pass. That is how things work in his, or any other universe. The mechanism on her grapple gun releases, allowing slack line to drop to her feet as she completing her strike and readjusting her stance.

Look. People are hitting things. Someone else is here who is good at, and enjoys hitting things. She also dislikes others hitting people or things that she doesn't want hit. Like Porter. Sidewalk crunches beneath Anti-gon's metalshod feet as she pushes off to launch herself at Yutaka. Leading with her metalshod fist.

Air molecules tremble at her might! Unfortunately, as impressive as the launching looked, Yutaka is more nimble than air molecules.

Yutaka does not want to be hit by Paragon, once upon a time he hit on Paragon, but he doesn't think this love tap will be very nice at all. Thankfully this Paragon is the same as the other one..slow and telegraphed..and it only takes a sidestep to avoid what would have been..his life.

Her grapnel lashed out at Porter-wannabe's face and torso. She landed it almost the same place Yutaka kicked. But then she's ended up snared in her own line. It stopped spinning like the mechanism jammed and she ended up on her ass. "Well, this is embarassing." she mutters.

Copycat studies the sudden violence breaking out. Rolling the neck, he considers the combatants. There's the sudden attackers, the wild dog, and the man who paid him, or so that's how Copycat remembers Porter. Could be more in it for him if he helps out.

With a flash of golden light, Copycat's eyes charge up as "he" turns his head towards the obvious hero, Forsaken, before discharge his energy stores in a concentrated blast of energy. Energy shifts within him, bolstering his body for the fight.

Feet tied up, Forsaken drops down on her backside as indicated. She looks up and says, "Little help?" as she sees the glowing eyes. She figures.. hey, he/she copy is going to blast the line off of her feet. Nope, it hits her in the chest and pushes her back about fifteen feet along the ground. She rolls and ends up on her back, "Even worse." she mutters, obviously not stunned.

Wolf closes his deep brown eyes to near-sliver-slits, looking Inwards as he Remembers. . . Walks and games of "fetch" with Sasha and Porters. . . a flowery and elegantly orange-and-gold-and-purple sunset, shared. . . a dinner of Porter's-house steak,. . . the easy and relaxed company of good-hearted friends. Who -are- these people? What. . . do they -want-? This almost-Griffin, and these imPorsters? What are their intentions for Colonial Bay? Wolf extends his spirit outward, making Contact, hunting Answers, seeking Truth.

Wolf opens his eyes a bit, digesting the fruits of the Contact. He memorizes the positions and orientations of the two Griffins, to be sure to keep track of which was the copy, and which was the copy of the copy

Yutaka thinks about the targets..Porter is leading the show, but if he can take one down, maybe Porter will change his mind to leave, and then there is Copycat...Eventually he picks...Porter. This time he's going to give Porter something to remember him by, with all the distractions, Porter might not be expecting what is coming.

In retrospect, Porter might wonder how long Yutaka thought about this particular target. At the moment of impact, though, getting punted in the crotch leaves little brainspace for coherent thought. He's launched into the air with a surprised squeak. Midway through his trajectory, he teleports back to his original spot, but not all of the momentum is negated. He slides several meters across the ground, gasping for breath.

It looks complicated. Hell, it -is- complicated. Forsaken rolls onto her back, doing almost a handspring. But in the process, she manages to rip one foot from the grapple line and she lands on her feet... launcher in hand and retracting her cable. She puts all of her skill into defense, focusing on -not- getting hit even as she runs towards Porter... and then lashes out to grapple Porter in her line. She's got a plan here. Really she does. Okay, so it's less of a plan and more of a... let's try THIS!

Porterwas just mind-Fed, nut-kicked across the pavement, and now he's wrapped up in ropes! And all he did was buy ice cream!

Oh, wait. That would be the reaction of the other Porter. You know... THAT one.

This one seems slightly more calm. As he tries to inhale air and gonads body.

The other (...other) Griffin already showed off the Griff spiff of eyebeams. This one now turns them to the mangy mutt he pointed out earlier.

Griffin unleashes a fusillade of eye lasers at Wolf (maybe by blinking rapidly?) Most of them tear up the pavement around him, but one manages to make contact.

Wolf is calmly learning about Portends of doom, dangers to the multiverse, kidnappings of alt heroes, and what it feels like to be roasted by lasers.

Antigon is ...displeased. Not that any can tell from facial expression due to the helm covering any expression. She steps to straddle Forsaken's grappling line, facing her and Yutaka. Her arms spread wide and then come together before her, gauntlets smacking together at supersonic speeds. Like a clap. Just... louder.

Cringing as she sees this happening, Forsaken leans into the concussion and is still flung through the air. But she does a couple things here. She yanks HARD on her grapple line, using Porter's bodyweight to anchor her. She flares out her glider cape and then drops to her feet... "That's really annoying." she states... still holding the line.

Yu is not so lucky..and he is flung backwards, but thanks to years of training, he lands on his back, and is able to roll to his feet, using the momentum he was given by the sonic clap. He knew that Paragon had that in her repetoir, he just hoped it wasn't going to happen.

Rick Mason inspects the back yard for a few moments, hoping to find something that will tell him what the hell is going on here. It helps that Paragon has left the area, allowing Rick to move about in the open... Until there's a lot of eye laser sounds coming from the street. That is not at all helpful to Rick's situation.

Heaving a heavy sigh of discontent, Rick whips out a Line Tonfa from somewhere. He spins it quickly in hand before swinging his arm out and around. A grapnel fires from its tip to latch onto the edge of the house that Porter bought before the line goes taut. Rick accelerates into the air, swinging around so that he lands on the roof of the Family Porter's home. The Rocket Revolver is promptly drawn from somewhere behind Rick's back, the hammer getting cocked as he surveys the battling pair of Griffins and the Paragon at the center of a hero mosh pit.

"This... Is not what I was expecting."

Copycat is still completely lost in the personality she's copying. CopyGriff smirks as he sees Porter kicked in the cahonies. Seems he'd probably pay well if he helped him get a little payback. His head swivels towards Yutaka and his body follows suit as his eyes charge up.

"You're more than just some bystander, aren't you? I guess I won't feel so bad about this." Waves of energy forming up before he lets loose a merciless blast at Yutaka.

Yutaka is not happy..that hurt like hell, and he can't take much more of that, and he can't give much more either..he is flying through the air, an audible '..Urk!" is heard when he lands..finally. Mid-air, he turns, and heads for the ground headfirst, before, at the last minutes, tucks and rolls.

Rising to his feet, he looks disheveled, but there is only one choice..Porter. He runs at Porter, "I'm no one..but I can't let this stand.."

Yutaka runs as fast as he can, and he somehow hits Porter, and despite Porter's medium unmemorable frame, you can bet Yu will remember this for the rest of his life..well when he can see again, because right now, he's flash KO..as soon as he bounces off of Porter, his eyes close, because its like he ran into a wall..

In this case, it was a Portennant wall. This means it is... unusual. It isn't so much that the prone man isn't moved...

It's that Portennant is, as before, reflexively teleported back to his original location and orientation, momentum negated. Of course, Yutaka's momentum is not, which has him run squarely into the re-appearing knee of the the man. Right about ... yeah, karma anyone?

Yutaka groans...in gonad pain.

She landed on her feet and all, but Forsaken has a nifty plan. She whips her grapple line about... curling a leg around it and then she leaps and twists and comes back down to land as she does her best to slam Porter into Paranot's back. Maybe she can barely scratch two birds with one stone here.

Magic suffuses Rick Mason's body. His bloody, battered body glows for a few moments before his body begins knitting itself together at what Wolf might consider to be a patently inhuman rate. Rick groans and sits up slowly, one hand coming up to wipe away the blood and dirt from his face while his brown eyes shift toward Wolf, a red-orange eyebrow inquisitively arching.

"I miss the good part?"

Pause.

"You're not going to die now that you've, uh, "saved my life", are you?"

Rick Mason climbs slowly to his feet. He may be trying to figure out if he's going to be experiencing any pain. Nothing seems to stop him, so the Undead Soldier moves over to kneel beside Wolf. Lightly Rick runs his hand over Wolf's flank as he quietly intones, "Thank you though. You're a good dog."

Wolf holds utterly still for a moment or two, "Just Breathing" in order to Recover. But, as they say, "The lazy wolf catches no moose," and so, after a few seconds of rest, he heaves himself back up to all fours and shakes out the fatigue from his fur: *shake shake shake*.

Wolf looks up at Rick, then over toward the front yard, then back up to Rick. Wolf tilts his shaggy angular head to one side, and orients his paws street-ward, looking at Rick in an "OK! Ready!" sort of way.

Out front, Forsaken storms away from Copycat, who was unhelpful with information on the kids. Something he said got Forsaken to back down and decide to go after the kids before they all scattered to the wind.

Smirking to himself lightly, Copycat takes a breath and shakes his head. Business went sour today. He'll make sure to pay Porter back for that. But now? He has to go before more capes show up. He starts shifting his energies to reinforce his legs and muscle fibers, increasing his twitch reflexes. Time seems to slow as his senses become super acute.

"You take a break, Dawg," intones Rick.

He stands up and takes a moment to patpat Wolf on the top of the head as he regards both Wolf and the Forsaken running away from the scene. Rick doesn't see Yutaka escape - Yutaka is a ninja, after all - and it's probably better that way. Quickly Rick pats himself down and makes sure that all of his concealed gadgets and guns are still in place before he starts jogging out of the back yard and into view of the street again.

Wolf nods agreeably. *wags* gratefully, and takes another moment or two to collect himself. Getting shot by lasers, he's learned, is even -less- fun than it might at first blush sound.

Not that getting shot by lasers sounds all that fun to begin with. After another three breaths, Wolf follows Rick back to the now-silent-and-non-combat-disturbed front lawn of the Alt-Porters' house. ..

Copycat lowers his stance a little in a prepared sprint, then looks over his shoulder as he hears Rick stomping along in a jog. He smirks, offers a mocking salute, and takes off so fast that he's gone in an instant.

"Griffin Freeman. Are you running away from your best god damned friend?"

As CopyGriff prepares to take off, Rick Mason whips out the Rocket Revolver again. In the same motion, Rick snaps the break action and ejects the cylinder of rockets from the giant handgun. His hand swiftly draws a fresh cylinder from a pocket and slots it home in the revolver. Rick's hand comes away from the weapon as he fluidly snaps his wrist to close the gun's break action and lock the cylinder into place.

CopyGriff is already starting to take off as Rick thumbs the hammer. Rick draws in a deep breath while he tries to draw a bead on the faux speedster and fire the mysterious payload of this latest cylinder of rocket rounds from his double extra heavy pistol.

Wolf trots around the corner and *whuffs* out a short sigh of relief. Still here! And, not as dodgy as previously -- even better! Wolf sets to work un-tangling the mind and essence of this strange CopyGriff, easing the odd twistings and warpings that had set it tumbling out of control into Alt-Griff-i-form. Wolf works patiently and carefully, knowing this could take a while. As he watches the Goddess' healing powers slowly start to take a hold, he pauses to *sniff* at the places on the pavement where children have dropped their ice cream treats. What -did- the strange Alt-Porter mean by his cryptic parting words? What -is- in the Ice Cream?

The cylinder hits the ground just behind Copycat as she's taking off, and explodes outwards with rapidly cooling moisture that hardens to ice in an spiked pattern. It hits Copycat in the back and climbs around his legs and arms, up to his neck and beyond, until the SuperSoldier is entirely incased in ice on the spot in that sprinting pose. The ice creaks and groans until all of the moisture has solidified into ice.

Rick Mason lifts the Rocket Revolver and blows smoke from the barrel as he watches the rapidly forming iceberg engulf Copycat/Griffin. He slowly walks toward the 'berg while he keeps the Rocket Revolver at the ready. Brown eyes scan over the icy formations as he waits for the other shoe to drop. That's just his luck.

Wolf adds more concentration to his Restoration efforts, gently unbending the psyche of this strange not-Griff back away from Alt-Griffin-hood, allowing the true nature of the Copy to gradually re-assert itself and come back to the fore. He pads along until he catches up to Rick, and stands by the ice sculpture wonderingly, curious as to who exactly will emerge when all of this is done!

Copycat remains still for a moment or two, trying to become focused. It's tight and hard to breath in this thing, but there's still some trapped air. Energy begins to supercharge his muscles for some added might. Then, Copycat braces himself and begins to try and flex and bend his limbs to break free.

The ice cracks in several places, then suddenly explodes away from Copycat as he flexes and straightens out his back. Chunks of ice are sent scattering across the concrete, then Copycat takes a moment to kick his legs out of the trap.

"Psst."

Rick stops strolling again. He lifts the Rocket Revolver and fires again as CopyGriff emerges from the wreckage of the first iceberg.

"Sto--" Copycat gets encased in ice again before a word can get out, hand starting to reach out.

Wolf completes the third round of de-EvilGriff-ification, moving to stand just in front of the impromptu ice statue to get a good look on who might be emerging after the ice layers and Griff layers are melted all away.

Copycat flexes again, exerting tremendous force as his arms come up and smash through his ice prison. Then he does something Griffin rarely does. He breathes heavily from the exertion, tiring faster than the real deal would.

"Rick, stop!" he says, rubbing the heel of his palm into his forehead in a gesture that should be familiar to Rick. He's seen Cat do it enough times when "coming to".

Wolf wags excitedly as the scintillating fragments of silver moonlight and the scent of cherry blossoms become more and more pronounced about the head and shoulders of the thawing former-CopyGriff. He closes his eyes in a brief prayer of Thanksgiving to the Goddess, in gratitude for her much-needed help. He opens his eyes back up and *whuffs* excitedly in Rick's direction, looking from Rick's face to the features slowly emerging from underneath the Griffimask, as the craggy weather-beaten brown and five o'clock shadow slowly melt back from the countenance within. ..

"You, young lady, have a hell of a lot of explaining to do," intones Rick in his best patriarchy-reinforcing tone. He folds his arms across his chest, a stern expression on his face as he regards Copycat.

Still looking like Griffin for a few moments, he gives Rick a stricken look as he looks at him sternly like that. She forgets all about trying to keep this form so she can gleam more from his memories, but that has a lot to do with what Wolf is convincing her of doing, subtly. Her form shrinks down and hair grows out as her skin becomes pale and not so scared.

The young heroine looks at Rick piteously. "I-I'm so sorry, Rick! Are you okay? I mean, of course you're okay, but I mean are you okay?" the words tumble out in rapid-fire succession.

Wolf watches the reverse-transformation with rapt fascination, transfixed with curiosity and wonder. A (somewhat more limited) shape-shifter in his own right, he is amazed with the precision and detail of Cat's work, and is even more impressed that she seems to be able to do it on a natural and -instinctive- level. ..

. . . thinking things over, Wolf remembers the Shifter that Griff had told him about, just seven months ago, as someone who could possibly teach Wolf how to shapeshift into a human form. This woman quite clearly knows Rick and also knows Griff well enough to mimic him almost exactly. Might she know, or even -be- the mysterious master-shifter that Griff had promised to introduce Wolf to some day? Wolf sits back on his haunches and watches closely and carefully for any clues, and decides that he needs to make it a point to ask the +real+ Griff about it. to see if that is indeed the case, the very next time he sees him. Wolf *sniffs* cautiously at her footprints, to make sure all of the FauxGriff scent is gone or leaving: first things first! Is she going to be OK? Is she coming "all the way back" from her Griffitude?