Log:ACRO - Introduction, Scene 1

ACRO - Introduction 2005/01/25 	 Blitzkrieg Eleven Rakshasa

1

Docks

The smell of salty air and marsh is the most apparent here at the port of Colonial Bay. To the left, the sturdy automatic cargo cranes stand tall and await the container freight vessels that transport goods into and out of the city. Most of the work is done by the large, efficient machines.

Over to the right, there is the Marina, where various pleasure craft and fishing boats rock gently in their moorings, tied by secure lines. The private vessels range in size from 16 foot cruisers to 32 foot yachts. The marina also rents out various water sport equipment as well as the new modern speed boats and fishing vessels for the day. There is one old-fashioned style riverboat with the paddlewheel propulsion, which provides pleasure cruises and caters to weddings.

From Memorial Day to Labor Day, the sea lovers crowd the marina. During the rest of the year, the docks are peaceful, except for the fishing and cargo vessels.

There's a cold wind blowing in off the water...a few flakes of snow drifting down through the air. It's midnight, and the few fixed lights illuminate the areas of the dock poorly, but well enough to get around. There's a hovervan parked next to one of the warehouses...an unmarked one, painted a dark blue. It almost looks black with the lighting. There's a man standing by the back door of it, leaning against the van, smoking a cigarette.

He's just outside the main area that's lit up near him...so a silhouette is easy to pick out...it's not so easy to pick out features.

Rakshasa, disguised as a goth-punk thugette in leather, black lace and copious silver bangles, slouches over the cigarette smoking man, snapping her gum noisely

Rakshasa says, "Yo."

The man looks up, and nods, "You the one who asked about the merchandise?" He pushes away from the van just a bit, to stand up straight. He also looks around, to make sure there's no one else around.

Blitzkrieg coasts in "running dark", part of his stepped up patrol. He notices the man leaning on the van, looking suspicious and hovers silently nearby overhead.

Rakshasa nods, "Yeah. You're the man with the zap guns, right?"

Eleven is hiding nearby watching for punk gangers and what not. The light of the cigarette catches his eyes and then the words zap guns.. Jack thinks about busting this good for nothing thugette.

The man pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and puts a finger up, as if to shush Rakshasa. "Don't mention specifics...you never know who's listening. There're too many capes in this burg." He turns and opens the door of the van...pulling out a smallish crate, about the size of a rifle case.

Rakshasa nods, "Damn straight there are. 'Bout time the Howlers got ourselves some equalizers." She walks over to examine the merchandise.

Eleven frowns as he here something about the Howlers. He tries to sneak in closer for a better listen.

The man chuckles, "I heard some of the other gangs were beefin' up too. The Spitfires have been talkin'...so watch your back." He sets the crate down, and opens it up. "This here is a sample. I have another nine in the van, ammo to go with it. 20 shots a load." Inside is a gunmetal rifle...well, you could call it that. It looks kind of futuristic with a large battery pack. "My organization can keep you supplied with further weapons...assuming you continue with the cash inflow."

ACRO Agents

A team of five agents clearly from some sort of organization. Their armor appears to be a mixture of a kevlar weave, and hard plastic or ceramic-like plates. Their helmets cover their heads completely, including a darkened visor, and what appears to be some kind of breathing apparatus. The leader of the squad appears to have a pistol, as well as a mechanical-looking arm. Two members of the squad have some sort of energy rifles, with a cable hooking to a backpack. The last two have sidearms, as well as larger cylindrical weapons of some sort, again hooked by a cable to a backpack. The only symbology they have is the letters A.C.R.O. on their left shoulder armor plates.

Rakshasa picks up the gun, checks the action, and sights down the barrel at a point off in the distance. "If these babies do what they're supposed to, Momma Moon should keep you rolling cash."

Eleven wonders if there is a plate number on the van he can jot down on his PDA.

Blitzkrieg hovers there silently, watching carefully. When he sees what looks like a power rifle his intrest grows.

The man nods, "I'd suggest not firing it here...though I know you want to. The burst it fires is loud...and bright. It'll punch a hole the size of a fist through most walls.

He shrugs..."Concrete would take a few hits. But you'll still get through eventually."

Eleven grumbles as he figures he needs to get closer. So.. Jack decides to be braver and tries to sneak in closer to get a better look at the plate.

Rakshasa nods and lowers the gun, "Don't worry, Momma Moon doesn't tolerate screw-ups. So where you get these babies? Momma's been trying to get them through BAD, but they weren't able to find a supplier."

The man chuckles, "My organization makes them...you won't find 'em anywhere else. If you do...they're fake, or shoddy, or already used. This is the real deal. Plasma...with no kick when you fire it. It takes getting used to, if you're used to regular gats."

Eleven tries to get a plate number again.

Eleven looks..

Eleven quietly inputs the plate number into his PDA. He can research that later...

Rakshasa smirks, "Cool. Point and click killing. Gotta love it. I'm sure Momma will love them, so how fast can you get your hands on 100 more?"

Eleven thinks. o O (100 more?? I'd better do something fast!)

The man smiles, "By next week. Just give me a dropoff location, and we can work out the transfer of funds."

Blitzkrieg ponders. .oO (100? Pretty big order for a local gang. Unless she's a front...)

Rakshasa smiles, "That works... How much to make us Moon Howlers your exclusive customers here in the Bay? Not much point gearing up if the Spitfires, Bastards or Ragers are all getting the same goods."

The man smiles..."Well, we can't guarantee that. We might let you buy an exclusive GANG contract. But...there are always other buyers. Pride and his boys come to mind."

He grins, following up..."And if you like this...we have higher tech stuff than this...but it might be outta your price range."

Eleven almost gasps out lout. . o O (Pride?! I have to get this guy.. but it might be better to see where he leads me..)

Rakshasa quirks an eyebrow, "We don't have much business with the Triads, so I guess that's all right. What do you mean by higher tech? Us grunts can make due with these babies, but I know Momma would love to have something that let her really howl."

Eleven readies his weapon in case. . o O (I'll give her something to howl about...)

The guy tosses his cigarette to the ground, and steps on it. "Cybernetic power armor. The power to take on an army division. Or whatever cape gets your underwear in a bunch. It's not cheap. Not that these babies are cheap...but we're talking a huge jump in price. Armed with plasma technology, but with mobility and protection."

Blitzkrieg scowls, despite the fact nobody could see it even if they were looking right at him due to his helmet. .oO (If they have access to that kinda resources, this must be "chicken feed" to them. Why bother? Maybe lying to impress?)

He taps his temple..."It links directly to your brain...reacting to your thought patterns. So it moves when you want it to. It's not sluggish. You become faster, stronger, and more resilient...and bullets bounce off ya. Well, so I heard. I'm just the sales man...I haven't seen the stuff myself yet. Saw a news report of some of our handiwork in action, though."

Rakshasa nods and hefts the rifle, looking it over again casually, "Gotchya. So that was you guys. I'll let Momma Moon know. You and your organization got names, Mr. Salesman?"

The man nods..."Well, you should already know mine. Donnie. The organization is called ACRO." He starts to move to the van to unload the stuff. "That guy who was on the news? Avoid him...he's nuts. And in one of our best suits." He chuckles, "Once I unload these, you're on your own, and we're done for tonight."

Rakshasa frowns, "Is he likely to cause trouble? Capes are bad enough without psychos mixed in too."

Syphon furrows his brow, "Armament? The guy's a loose cannon." He stops as he sets down a case. "I t'ink we got company." His right eye becomes solid red as he looks into the darkness toward Eleven, "Yeah, we do...figures."

Rakshasa looks around wildly, "What! Capes, here!? Damn! Those bastards are too damn good at being anywhere and anyone!?"

Blitzkrieg blinks. He's been spotted? The guy isn't even looking in his direction.

Eleven thinks. o O (Crap..)

Rakshasa looks around, the rifle leveled, seeking a target. . o O (This is gonna be fun!)

Eleven aims and shoots at the weapon in the thugette, Rakshasa's posession. . o O (Don't want them to blast me with that...)

Eleven takes one shot at the rifle. *BLAM!* Suddenly the whole rifle is in a couple of pieces. "Surrender now and I won't kill you.", threatens Eleven.

Rakshasa shouts, " !"

Eleven cautions, "Watch your mouth, young lady!"

Donnie's voice becomes a little metallic sounding. "Beta one! Beta one! Immediate backup!" At which point you hear movement. The door to the warehouse opens. It's down near the front of the van...about 4" away from Eleven. Five agents run out of the building setting up a firing line.

Eleven thinks. o O (Sh......eeze.)

Eleven yells to the thuggette. "Get out of the way!"

Blitzkrieg moves to line up to blast at the firing line from behind, to gain surprise (hopefully) and confuse them. So far he doesn't reallt think they know he's here. Then he holds.

Rakshasa sighs. Her body shimmers and reforms. "Bwhahahhaha!!! Tremble! I am Rakshasa, Demon of the Night, Bane of Men, Devourer of Souls, The Great Deceiver." A crackling aura springs up around her as a similar hued sphere of energy builds up in her palm. "Here boys, catch!" She hurls the sphere at the agents.

Blitzkrieg chuckles to himself. He's REALLY beginning to like her.

The agents grimace as the explosion goes off...one of the agents with the strange cylinder weapon is knocked off his feet. The sergeant shouts into some unseen radio, "Control! Situation is now beta three! Request evac!"

Eleven grimaces as Rakshasa reveals herself. "Damn it!", he mutters to himself. If he only knew! What a fool he was to try to handle it himself. Change of plans... Jack is facing the enemy so it is pretty difficult to shoot at the packs. So he keeps them occoupied while Rakshasa and Blitz takes them out. He moves a little closer and tries an acrobatic move before firing at the fallen agent's cylinder weapon.

The weapon gets a deep hole in it...looking quite unusable. It skitters away from the user, only to be stopped by the cable attached to the man's backpack.

Donnie closes the door of the van, and starts running down the side of the van toward the driver's door. Meanwhile..the agents still on their feet open fire. The one with the cylinder weapon that's still standing uses his sidearm, interestingly enough. The one on the ground stands up, firing his pistol at Eleven. A total of two pistols and one rifle are fired at Eleven. And one of each at Rakshasa. All of the weapons have a high pitched whine as they fire...with an aqua burst of plasma energy...and all are single shot...no autofire.

Rakshasa sneers as the plasma splashes off her shimmering aura, "Is that all those toys can do?"

Eleven gets blasted but thanks to his hidden armor, he's still alive.. Jack twists around and lands on his feet. He looks at Donnie races by..

Blitzkrieg curses to himself. .oO(Out of the frying pan...) Still with no answer to his call to the police, he changes his tactics a bit. Changing his flight path a bit, he moves to make a point blank blast at the van's engine. No sense letting it get away.

The blast slams into the van...the engine dying as the blast hits it. The van crashes to the ground. The sergeant looks back at Blitzkrieg, and says into the radio, "Situation is now alpha one...unknown rogue armor! Still need that evac asap!"

Blitzkrieg says, "Correczion! Zituazion Alpha Yoor Azz Ist Grazz! Lower yoor weaponz and zoorender now or de rezt off owr men open fire oonteel nobody ist movenk any more!"

They hesitate a bit...but not enough that they put down their weapons.

Blitzkrieg moves as they hesitate trying to take advantage of their indecision. He move to blast again, this time at the seargent.

There's a metallic sound as the sergeant is hit, and knocked off his feet...apparently out cold.

Blitzkrieg says, "I mean NOW!"

Another agent falls over...this time, one of the riflemen. He's knocked off his feet...and doesn't look like he's getting up.

Eleven takes aim to blast at the other large weird looking weapon unless that is one of the people that got knocked out. If that is the case he will aim for another weapon.

The weapon gets a big hole in it...and looks totally unusable.

Donnie continues running down the dock, away from the combat...the agents that are still up and about fire once at each of you...with the rifleman firing at Blitzkrieg.

Blitzkrieg says, "I zwear to Gott, if anyding on dot van openz and anybody firez owt, an exploziff ist goink in! And widd all dot hi-tech ammo..."

Rakshasa sqwaks as she's blown off her feet

Eleven is struck again.. Another shot and he'd probably go down. He suit is torn again showing the hidden armor underneath. Jack is like a cat and continues to land on his feet. His attention however focuses on the fleeing Donnie and not the shooters..

Blitzkrieg gets knocked out of the air and takes a bad fall, looking a bit dazed.

Rakshasa grumpily gets back to her feet and hurls a glowing golden spike at a standing agent.

Rakshasa dusts off her palms and chuckles as the agent she hit crumple to the ground.

Eleven

Eleven stands at five feet eleven inches and weighs about 165 lbs. His body has a lean muscular build. He has jet black hair that is shaved at the sides. The front bangs just fall to his eyebrows. The eyes of this man are very dark, black like his hair. It is unatural and one might feel some intimidation by looking into this man's eyes (courtesy of polarized lens).

The man is covered from head to toe. He is dressd in a sharp black mandarin collar suit that has platinum plated button covers. The mat finish causes it to be not so shiny. The matching black pants hide well the man who wears the clothes. In the shadows, it would seem that this man would be hidden. Eleven is wearing comfortable dress shoes and can run well in them much to the suprise of his prey.

When armed, Eleven weilds a modified self-made gun. It is a long, tong fu shaped, mat finished, plantinum plated gun. This long slender weapon has the number 11 engraved on both sides of the handle. Unless Eleven is carrying his weapon openly you do not see this. He has it concealed most of the time.

Eleven has a quiet unerving demeanor. His voice is cool and confident.

Rakshasa

Rakshasa is an attractive, if odd-looking, woman. She is around 5'10" tall with a lean, athletic build. Her hair is pure white and is gathered in a single ankle-length braid. Her skin is pure black and marked with metallic gold tiger like stripes. Her eyes are gold with cat-like pupils that almost seem to glow. Her ears are long and pointed, jutting out sideways at a slight angle.

Rakshasa is wearing a skin-tight black bodysuit that covers her from her neck down to mid thigh, but leaves her arms bare. Over the body suit she wears a white mid-torso length jacket with the sleeves rolled up and fastened in the front by a single gold button at her throat. The jacket is made from some sort of stiff cloth. Around her waist, a white belt with a gold buckle rests loosely on her hips. Her outfit is completed by white fingerless biker-style gloves and floppy white soft-soled half boots.

Blitzkrieg

Resplendant in deep black, blue, and crimson armor with a crimson eagle rampant emblazond across the chest, the heroic form of Blitzkrieg stands tall and erect, seeming to tower over those around him, his almost regal bearing marking him as something special indeed.

Eleven runs after Donnie as yells to Rakshasa and Blitzkrieg. "In the sky..", Jack pants, "All black! What is going ... ON?" Eleven continues to try to catch Donnie and move out of the enemy range.

Eleven asks Donnie, "Going somewhere?"

Donnie growls, and turns to take a swing at Eleven...the two agents each fire once at the other two heroes. One of the agents says into a radio, "Where's that evac?" The response over the radio is..."It's right on top of you."

Donnie's swing goes over Eleven's head, missing wildly...and the shot toward Blitzkrieg misses...hitting the ground near him. But Rakshasa is hit again...the blast bursting off her forcefield.

Rakshasa has time to exclaim "Doh" as the blast knocks her back down. Her field fades away.

There's a shimmering light around each of the agents and Donnie...as a beam of light reaches down from the fingertips of someone up above you. They're all lifted into the air...the one doing this appears to be the male in the white armor...as that's who the beam is coming from. "Evac has arrived. Prepare for transit." The two of them are floating...about 12" up.

Status: Unread

Subject: ACRO Supplies

Oh yes.. Pride would be very interested in purchasing some good stuff. :)

Yin and Yang(#1785On)

This is a pair of people...both in power armor. The first is a woman in all black plated armor, with two white dots for eyes. The second is a man, in all white plated armor, with black spots where the eyes should be. The armor is otherwise featureless, with large gauntlets, boots, and a belt.

The two people in power armor start to streak away, to the southwest, carrying the agents in a series of force beams. (a la Green Lantern) They zip off over the warehouses, leaving behind the hardware. (They fly about 20" combat speed)

Blitzkrieg says, ""Schieste!" He shakes his head to clear it and launches himself off after them, trying to keep them in sight while radioing coordinates and particulars to police. (And if we have an Air Guard Base/Civil Air Patrol/ AF Wing nearby, or even an open call to Starguard if they keep any "interceptor craft" reaDY)"

Just like when they splipped into view...they slip out...a blackness covering where they are...even with your radar, Blitzkrieg, you've lost sight of them. Like they just don't exist any more.

Blitzkrieg curses himself. If he had just zigged when he should have zagged! He turns around and goes back to the van.

Rakshasa mutters to herself in sanskrit as she sits up, holding her head.

The police show up, at just about this point...the officers get out of their vehicle to survey the situation. One of them scratches his head, "What the heck happened here?"

Blitzkrieg sighs as he lands beside the officer. "I am de vone who called it in. Here'z vhat happened...