Log:Shifty Individuals

2022/02/15 Dark Horse Pendragon Wildcard Bob Lennox Crimson 

And Bob, dressed in a grey 1940s suit, walks towards the above group down the sidewalk, his gaze blank.

Wildcard gets off the phone and sighs. "Where's a pair of handcuffs when you need 'em?" she says, stuck holding the thief in place. While she's distracted, he takes a swing at her with his free hand.

And then Bob comes down from the Maglev. Snowmane is enjoying his apple. Showing no sign of any awareness of the world about him. Apples are that good it seems. And as Lennox produces a second apple from his pocket, Pendragon lifts a brow, "You just carry multiple apples as a daily thing? Impressive." she states.

And then she adds, "Why do you seem familiar. And not to me. But to the old man." she adds as she lifts a hand and touches her temple with her index finger. "Or rather, Arthur... if you want get formal." A pause and then she adds, "Forgive me. I am The Pendragon, and this is.." She pauses to look to Snowmane as he lifts his head, regal and proud. "The majestic warhorse from Avalon, Snowmane."

And then she glances at Bob, "And.. is he what I think he is?" she asks.

Dark Horse hand't heard any commotion earlier, but he does get the police dispatch over the radio. And since there was a mention of a meta involved, he makes his way over the rooftops to where the heroes have gathered. He stops at the rooftop edge and looks down.

Bob stops, looks down at his PDA again, then goes to the edge of the street not far from Snowmane et al. He slowly looks both ways as if waiting for a break in traffic.

"Ow!" Wildcard gets whacked in the face and lets go of the purse thief, rubbing her nose. He starts to book it again.

Bob waits until there is a break in the traffic, bends his knees, and leaps across the street in a low arc. He lands on the other side with a heavy 'thump', straigthens his clothes, and then proceeds towards an apartment building.

Pendragon glances over one shoulder at the exclamation from Wildcard. She lifts a brow and turns fully to face that direction. "Snow. See if our new friend needs a ride?" She asks as Snowmane swallows his bite of apple. Literally sighs, or it sounds that way before he turns and begins trotting towards Wildcard before bending, "If you like, he can help you pursue!" calls out Pendragon to Wildcard.

And then the THUMP of Bob happens, and Pendragon turns that way. "Now there's something you don't see every day." She mutters.. as if her medieval knightly look, giant horse, and sword of power aren't already weird enough.

Lennox laughs. "I saw you from the roof. It was apples or sugar cubes, and I had apples to share, so ...". He tilts his head, eyeing the crest. "Mmm. Yes, Art would. I worked for his father for .... six winters."

Even as Snowmane goes to 'play' with Wildcard, Pendragon regards Lennox once more. "That makes sense. Then you live in the... did you say..." A pause as she listens to a voice in her head... literally. "Black Knight? Sir ...." she says, grasping at the name in the memories of Arthur.

The big zombie seems to stumble as the perp Wildcard had starts to run by him. His legs lmaoist go out from under him and get tangled with the purse snathers.

It seems physics then takes a hand as the larger man is unmoved while the perp goes down in a sprawl at the zombie's feet.

"A'Kush," Lennox says quietly. "They called me the Black Knight mostly, yes, but my correct label is the Knight Undying. Not something I tossed around there much, for obvious reasons. I grounded Art in the basics."

Bob leans over the perp rumbling in a rock-on-rock voice, "Stay still. Maybe hurt. Wait help." He smiles slowly in a completely blank way at the man as he looms over him.

A grimace crosses Pendragon's face and she shakes her head, "He prefer to -not- use the modern shortenings for his name. Apparently, he has -never- liked such." A pause, and she nods, "Right. There are memories of such a name. Not always fond ones, but memories just the same. Respect, but not a lot of fondness."

And as Bob deals with the purse-snatcher perp, Snowmane steps over.. takes a general sniff and then snorts.. shaking his head like someone just farted in the car and he can't seem to escape the smell.

Lennox crunches his apple, watching the by-play with the purse snatcher and shrugs. "Soldiers rarely have affection for their drill sergeant," he states with equanimity. "But they all eventually respect him for the skills he has taught them."

Bob glances over at Snowmane then grinds out what could be a chuckle. "Dead. Sorry. Upwind," he says in his rumbling voice as his gaze locks back on the perp.

Snowmane hears that, and then shifts to be upwind. Then he looks relieved as he no longer smells that stench. Horses. Way too sensitive to stuff.

Pendragon for her part, regards Lennox and says, "You look good for someone at -least- a thousand." But she shakes her head and adds, "Well, I for one am thankful for the skill you imparted in him. That has kept -me- alive a few times."

"Yes, well," Lennox says through his chewing, "there is a reason I do not I declare 'The Knight Undying' in most human company. If I ever settle in a place, people start to notice something strange after ten or fifteen years. So I move on a lot."

The perp decides that maybe not moving would be a good idea. What with a freaking weird dressed zombie and a great huge horse looking down at him. This day is the totes horror-zoned.

Lennox nods in acknowledgment of the Pendragon's thanks, however. "Good to know."

With another snort as the perp looks his way, Snowmane paws at the ground. It's a bit of an intimidation technique he's learned. I mean come on... he's armored and ornry.

MEanwhile Pendragon nods her head, "Well, you picked the right town to stand out. It's like in Colonial Bay, so many people are special that nobody's special."

Lennox shrugs. "Even so, if you tell someone that they taught the sword to King Arthur, people will look at you strangely." He shrugs again. "So I am a mercenary."

Lennox, still crunching his apple, strolls down to where the purse snatcher has surrendered to the weirdness that is Colonial Bay. "Nice move, Bob, he says add his other hand dips into his pocket and produces another apple for Wildcard. "Zip ties," he suggests, "slotted into individual pockets in your armor. An extra scrap of protection until you need to use them to tie somebody up."

The big grey guy continues to loom over the the perp but nods at Lennox speaks. Then out of the blue, he asks, "You Armando Guerrero-Ortiz? Live there?" He points at a rundown apartment building they are near.

Wildcard finishes rubbing her nose and walks toward the perp, then halts as she sees Bob, and looks to Lennox as he produces an apple. She accepts it curiously. "Zip ties? I hand't thought of that."

Lennox nods, and draws his fingers down his arm, across his torso. "The thick parts to the outside, areas less hit."

Dark Horse finally uses his swing line to gets down to street level. He coils it back up again, and walks over to where the heroes have gathered.

The perp shakes his head. Then Bob shakes his head as he turns, then turns back, "Stay. No get hurt. Bad fall," he intones then turns aay and walks towards the rundown apartment building.

Lennox nods again, then glances towards where Dark Horse approaches. One of these nights," he suggests, "we can use DH as a practice dummy, and I can give you a few tips on securing a target."

Bob presses a large finger against the door buzzer for an aprtment after searching the directory by the door. He waits, buzzes again, and settles in to wait once again. He jsut stops moving completely.

Wildcard lifts her mask to take a bite from her apple and lowers it again. "You mean learn how to tie Dark Horse up?"

Dark Horse tilts his head at that. "Now, now. Some people pay good money for that."

Lennox gives a long look at Bob as he waits patiently at the door, then turns to Dark Horse as he arrives. "DH, are you part of any team? Learn to tie people up, with DH as someone to practice on, yes."

Wildcard laughs. "Great, I could use the extra cash."

Dark Horse shakes his head, "I used to be on a loose team, but not so much now."

"Hrm. I think we should ... maybe have a bit of one. You, me, Wildcard here, Firefly ..." He nods towards Bob. "Him."

A muffled voice comes over the speaker on the door panel, Bob rumbles some response and the big grey guy goes back to waiting motionlessly.

Crimson steps into sight from the cover of a different doorway that has seemed impossible to hide in. "Hello. Something happening here?" The voice is synthesized.

Wildcard tilts her head. "A fellowship kind of thing?" she asks and lifts her mask briefly for another bite of her apple. A squad car turns a corner and starts heading towards the address Wildcard gave.

The armor is designed of a flexible material that seems to allow excellent mobility. The similarity with Anthony Quinn's battlesuit is clear and obvious to anyone who's seen both.

Dark Horse looks over toward Crimson, "Umm...just a purse snatcher, I think? And...uh..he's doing something else? Not sure what." He thumbs over toward Bob.

Bob's head turns at the new speaker then goes back to the door. He thinks <> A brief smile crosses his lips before his face goes blank again.

Wildcard comments to Dark Horse. "And don't worry, I won't practicing tying up crooks on you, since you seem to be against that idea," she promises and lifts her mask again to take another bite of her gifted apple.

Crimson says, "Two heroes that I recognise in your group, and maybe more I don't. That must be some purse-snatcher."

Dark Horse chuckles and waves off Wildcard, "I wasn't worried about it, really. If you wanted to practice on me, I'm actually fine with that." He looks back to Crimson, "I...don't think so. Just happenstance after the initial takedown."

Lennox gestures with his thumb back up the street. "I own a tavern." He eyes the perp, then shrugs, adding to Dark Horse as he eats the core of his apple, "Sorry I didn't bring one for you.""

"He took a wrong turn in at Albuquerque and ran into a bunch of heroes," Wildcard explains. The squad card spots the gathering and parks, and Wildcard goes to explain the situation and hand the purse over to them.

The door to the apartment building jerks open and a large muscular man looms in it. Then looks up at who's standing there and moves back a step.

In a clear, if rock-on-rock sounding voice, "Armando Guerrero-Ortiz, you are hereby served." Bob reaches raises a hand dwarfing the envelop in it. "Please sign and date the receipt."

He waits while Armando takes the envelop and signs the attached receipt. Bob takes it and rumblss out, "Have a night," and turns away. As he heads down the apartment steps, he takes out a battered PDA and marks something on it.

Lennox then shrugs at Wildcard's question. "More of an association," he suggests. "People to call when you need back up."

Dark Horse nods in agreement with Lennox. "That...does sound like a good idea."

Lennox lets out another sharp whistle to get Bob's attention, gesturing for the zombie to come over -- presuming Bob looks towards the whistle.

Bob does not the whistle it seems and trudges over to the gathering of metaros. The paroled metavil stands outside the circle and says, "Lennox."

Wildcard finishes giving her statement and walks back to the others as the cops take the purse snatcher into custody and read him his rights. The victim finally catches up to talk to the police. "Backup can be good."

Crimson listens interestedly to the hero chatter.

Lennox nods agreement to Wildcard, and looks up at Bob as he arrives. "Bob. Need muscle for more on-the-street problems. Thought of an association when I saw you. Want in?"

The big boss-zombie-looking man just stares blank faced for a moment, then says, "Yes. PD mind? Vil."

At Bob's words, those who don't already know might remember Mr Zombie, a member of the Brain Trunst, being released on a special parole by the DA a few months ago.

Dark Horse nods slowly and looks at Bob while he considers. "You're turning over a new leaf though, right?"

Lennox shrugs. "If the CBPD were capable of handling all of the problems, I could stay behind the bar. So really, I am not asking their permission. You have done right as much as you can while ai have known you, so if they do not like it, they can stop you from serving summons to court. Or the DA can come have a word. But this will not be official by any stretch of the imagination."

Bob looks over at Dark Horse. "Head clear. Not under the Overbrain. Have job." He then looks over at Lennox and nods. "Understood."

Crimson asks Lennox, "Not official, but legal, right?"

Bob thinks <>

Lennox shrugs. "Vigilante activities, not executions. You'd have to take the law up with what's-his-name, Franzetti."

Wildcard thinks carefully. She looks from Lennox, then to Dark Horse. "So...would this be a ...wicked and mischievous team?"

Dark Horse chuckles, and gives Wildcard a wink. "It's a loose association. When one of us need backup on something. I suppose it depends on how wicked and mischeivous you want to be."

"Take up law with Tim Bigelow. Honest good man," rumbles Bob who then looks over at Wildcard at Dark Horse's words.

Wildcard giggles at Dark Horse's comment. The idea of her being wicked is amusing, because she's too cheerful for that. "Oh, suuuuper wicked and mischievous. But for justice!" she jokes.

Lennox smiles at Dark Horse and Wildcard. "Tricksters, Jesters, Fools, and Magicians. As they were in the early days."

Bob nods then says, "I Bod. Him Lennox." He then looks at the other three. "Don't know names."

Crimson offers Bob a hand, "Crimson."

Lennox adds to Bob -- and perhaps by implication to Crimson as well, "This will by no means be safe. Multiple different organized crime groups are moving to try to dominate activities here in the Upper East Side, and perhaps in Colonial Bay as well. So this may be ... dangerous."

Dark Horse offers his hand to Bob and then Crimson. "I go by Dark Horse."

Wildcard waves and introduces herself, "I'm Wildcard."

Bob nods and takes the offered hands. His skin is the same as the surrounding air, so quite chill to the touch. But, fortunately, it's not squishy.

Bob lets out sound that is probably a laugh. "Dead, Lennox. No worries."

Crimson shakes Dark Horse's hand. "If it holds together your idea of an association sounds good. I'm only in Colonial Bay for a relatively short period though."

Lennox notes, "These are the sorts to chop up their opponents, Bob. Dead just means you have a head start."

Lennox nods judiciously to Crimson. "Drop by Sentries some night, I will figure something out about how to let us know that you are in town."

"Lennox, was vil. Know risks. Accept," rumbles Bob. He looks at the others then back to Lennox. "What call us?"

Wildcard gulps. "W-what, c-chop people up? We're going against people that'll chop us up?" she stammers nervously.

Bob looks at Wildcard. "If risk, you run. Not cut easy. Stand in way." His tone is probably meant to be comforting.

"Only after they torture you for information, "Lennox says blandly. "Organized crime plays by a different set of rules, and the existence of superheroes has not substantially changed them."

Lennox adds, "That includes the Triads, like Pride's. So you have already dabbled your toes in that pond, as it were."

Wildcard's face pales. "Torture...?" she squeaks. She looks up to Bob and nods slowly, wondering if there's dismemberment in her future. She'll have to check on that.

Lennox regards Wildcard, and says quietly, "That is why we should associate with each other. Back up. So someone knows where you are going."

Something seems to almost shift behind Bob's eyes as he says, still in his rock-on-rock rumble, "It also means they are slow to adapt to the reality of metas. They think of metas as metacops and don't realzie the danger of powers as fully as they should. They are /not/ invicncible and are limited by their own prejudices." He looks at Lennox. "Or is your intent to scare them, Lennox?"

Crimson looks to Wildcard. "Be sensible. Catch three criminals and get caught and neutralised, and that's all you'll manage to do. Catch two criminals and retreat to carry on afterward, and you'll catch many more over time."

Lennox shrugs. "I do not know, Bob. I would tend to not give ourselves a name; while names have power, the lack of one can have much more. For right now, however, I just hope to save some lives. We have already had an assault on a restaurant."

Wildcard nods rapidly. "Sensible. Sure. I can be that."

"Evil lurks in the hearts of men, Lennox. Always has, always will. And to do another overused quote: all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. So, even if not good, why stand by and do nothing?" muses the big grey guy. "Besides, I don't eat, sleep, or, heh, have a social life. Why not fill my time with something useful like fighting crime?"

Lennox nods. "If you patrol and run into something odd, or find something to investigate, call for backup," he advises Wildcard, then gestures to Bob. "He'd be excelllent backup."

Dark Horse raises a brow as Bob's speech pattern changes. He doesn't comment on it, but he notes it.

Wildcard double takes on Bob, now thoroughly confused and surprised.

Crimson rapidly re-evaluates Bob. Not just a - dead - big bruiser.

Bob looks ovar at Wildcard, Dark Horse, and Crimson then shrugs as he raises his hands to his sides. "No reason to lie about myself to you. Trust is important. Lied for over a decade with the Brain Trust since I didn't trust 'em. Just don't spread it around, kay? Life's less complicated as a dumb brick." Beneath the rumble are the traces of an upper Midwest accent. "And Lennox suspected in any case."

Dark Horse nods. "No worries. I can keep a secret, big guy."

Crimson chuckles, "I have a definite feeling most here do keep secrets."

"I am as transparent as glass," deadpans Lennox. He shrugs at Bob. "Just experience. And you have shifted before.)

Bob rumbles out a chuckle at Crimson's words then looks back to Lennox. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" He then adds, "So, call each other on PDAs or go to grey market weaponeer for comm gear?"

Lennox shrugs. "Or a switchboard."

The big guy nods. "So, who's the operator?"

Wildcard is about as muddy was a swamp. "I'll keep your secret. 'You bob, me Wildcard'," she says like she's Tarzan or something.

Bob offers Wildcard a ham sized fist to dap. "You have the right idea."

Lennox mms. ?"Sentries. No, better -- Valhalla."

Wildcard daps Bob with a tiny fist. As the talk about a team becomes more real and solid, she begins to worry and feel a sense of dread. She was nothing but a jinx for her family's heroic efforts. This won't be any different.

Crimson says, "I won't be in the city for long or often. I can help out by, probably, getting you some quality LPOI comms gear."

Lennox mmms. "Problem with gear like that, they start looking for someone on the other end. They find a phone that calls a work out place, they stop looking."

"Valhalla?" inquires Bob.

"Beer, Bar, and Brawl," Lennox finishes. "Workout and traininbr during the day, fights at night -- not always restricted to the action in the ring. North-west corner of the Upper East Side. Let me know, I'll make sure to be there when you stop in."

Dark Horse nods as he listens to the conversation.

Bob looks at Crimson. "Should probably wait as well to see if we shake out or not. No need to go to the trouble if we never speak again, right? But, thank you."

Look at Bob, all socially adept -- unlike Lennox. "Dark Horse," he says, "you think you could find Firefly tonight, bring her by? She is already in this, and I do not want her hanging out in the cold."

Crimson nods to Bob, "Good point. If you do decide you want the gear, don't leave it too long or I'll be out of contact."

Dark Horse shrugs, "I can try, at least. No guarantee I'll find her."

Wildcard wrings her hands a little and keeps quiet for now.

Lennox glances sideways at Wildcard's hand-wringing, then at her, and says, "You'll be fine. You have a concern, come talk to me, it'll get worked out."

Bob nods. "Firefly. Tiny flyer? Shoots flame? She set my shirt on fire once while she was possessed."

Lennox nods to Dark Horse, then. "Good. If you can think of anyone else -- this goes for everyone -- don't hesitate to suggest them."

Lennox snorts. "I'm sure she'll apologize, Bob." Of course, he's often in the same boat of having to replace shirts ...

Wildcard nods a few times and shoots Lennox a thumbs up. "You got it!"

Dark Horse nods again, "I'll give it some thought. But...I'm not sure I have another good recommendation."

"Eh, I understand. Just making sure it wasn't the Firefly who lives down in Alabama, Lennox," murmurs Bob.

"Anyhow. I have a tavern to get back to," Lennox says, "and I imagine all the rest of you have more interesting things to do than stand here and jaw at me. Give me a couple days to set something up at Valhalla, and we'll be good to go. Remember -- it is a risky business, but that means you manage your risks." He smiles and nods at each person, then turns and heads back towards Sentries, fishing in his coat pockets for something he doesn't find."

Bob nods to the heroes present then takes out his battered PDA. "You all can leave me messages at my job, I work for ." The big guy then tips his hat to you all and heads out.

Wildcard pipes up, "If you really want to have me, I'm Wildcard7 on HeroNet. Just shoot me a message."