Thread: Empire - City of Wonder (Black_Out and The Supple Nail)

The night air was cool, crisp, full of promise. It whistled through the garishly lit streets of Empire City, through the rushing crowd, down steel canyons and over glowing rivers of light as traffic moved in its leisurely, disorganized fashion. It was brisk as it rose, exchanging the fetid smells of the underbelly of the city for rushing freshness, billowing up past skyscrapers and pylons to curl around a lone figure standing triumphantly atop one of the tallest buildings in the city. It caressed her raven hair, sending it in wild rivulets to float around muscular shoulders bared by a colorful girdle. Her form was powerful, defiant. Her skin sun bronzed, her legs long, her waist tiny and her womanly beauty perfectly proportioned. Her face was the image of carved, lovely perfection, sculpted from clay by the finest craftswomen ever to walk the mortal realms and given the spark of life by Zeus himself. She was Diana, princess of Themyscira, ambassador from the Amazons to the world of Men. As her heraldry she had taken their colors, powerful in red white and blue, to signify the bond of peace and friendship between them, and her status as a noble protector of the innocent. Wonder Woman they called her. The moniker amused her, a mantle that the sensationalist media had draped around her shoulders. It grew with each new feat of heroism and justice. She had worked alongside the finest heroes that the world of Men could offer, and faced its vilest villains. She was renowned, welcomed as both a diplomat and a hero, and acclaimed as a mighty force for good. And yet there were those who wished nothing more than to be rid of her. To shackle and tame her, to leash her to their command like a dog. Her grip tightened on the enchanted sword held easily in one dexterous hand. No man would own her, and none could command the princess of the Amazons. She would die before she would relinquish her pride. Her ear cocked as the wind carried faint sounds from far below. Her preternatural senses prickled and she shifted, moving to kneel at the eave of the skyscraper. The dizzying drop below her concerned her not one whit and she leaned out, her divinely gifted eyesight scanning the streets below. Had those ice blue eyes been trained on the nearby buildings they may have seen the debauches of Evan Reynolt, may have seen the look that crossed over his handsome, cruel features as he noticed her standing against the night like an icon of purity. May have recognized in those eyes the plots, the schemes beginning to form. Instead they scanned the streets below her, looking for the cause of the gunfire that she had heard on the winds. Was it divine luck that she happened to be near to where villainy lurked? Perhaps. Her eyes focused like a hawk and the tiny pinpricks of flashing muzzles stood out like staccato stars winking in the slums of the city. There was where she was needed. In fact she had come to Empire city for her own reasons. A great eagle had brought her a message from her mother, and from the oracles of Themyscira. Such was not an unusual occurrence. If the governments of Man did not request her aid she was often dispatched by her mother Hippolyta on urgent errands when the portents and omens boded ill. More than once she had been informed of a brewing supernatural threat by her people's powerful diviners. Now she learned of a creeping darkness at the heart of Empire City. They had not revealed to her the source, such was obscured even from the great third eye of the temple of Artemis, but she knew that it gnawed at the root of the city like a poisoned seed. Great wings of fear the message spoke of, and Terrors undreamed of . Obtuse perhaps, but such was the way of prophecy. It concerned Diana little. She would seek, and eventually she would find, and then she would vanquish. For now she could do naught but battle the evil that she saw and protect those innocent lives that it preyed upon. She took two steps back and with a grace that made swans look clumsy took a running dive off of the edge of the building. Her heart leapt with the joy of adventure as wind ripped past her. Endless rows of glass windows streaked by beside her as she plummeted to the ground. Moments before the inevitable impact she spun into motion, pushing lightly off of the building into a somersault that sent her spinning across the massive intersection. Her wrist flicked out and the glowing braids of the Lasso of Truth flicked with it, ensnaring a nearby street sign and arresting her decent. Her momentum translated forward, she shot off towards the gunfight, running through traffic with the grace of a gazelle and moving much more quickly than even the fastest cars. The sounds of gunfire and the shouting of panicked onlookers grew louder as she approached. Every eye turned to her as she came sprinting around the corner, almost faster than the eye could follow, sliding to a halt just within the sphere of the police barricade. Every eye turned to her, even if the eyes of the police men were immediately drawn back to the fray. Hope lit them. One of their number, a sergeant by the bars on his collar, hustled over to her. Da...darn good to see you, ma'am. He said, awe plain on his face. Diana favored him with a bold, kind smile. What's the situation? The officer quickly explained while the crowd began to ooh and aah over her arrival. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that every one of them seemed to have one of their ridiculous portable telephones pointed towards her. She thought the affectation silly, but she knew that the footage would spread, giving hope to the law abiding and striking fear into the corrupt. Diana was a natural diplomat. She recognized that, no matter how mighty, a single person's greatest avenue to do good was not to fight with strength of arms but to bolster, guide, and lead the good hearted. ...And then they just opened fire. The officer concluded. Diana nodded. Keep your men back. I'll put an end to this. She said. Again she leapt, this time towards a darkened window on the second floor of the squalid little building. She crashed through and tumbled to her feet, enchanted sword springing to hand. Immediately the criminals rounded on her and a hail of gunfire poured towards her. For all her gifts Diana was far from bullet proof. But against such meager combat skills she, who had fought gods, may has well have been facing children. Joyfully she twisted and leaped, weaving and dodging past the bullets as if she were dancing. Any lucky round that may have scratched her person she merely deflected with the indestructible bracelets at her wrists as if she were brushing away flies. Inexorably she advanced, moving from criminal to criminal. Here an arm snapped, there a punch sent a man flying through the drywall, she zig-zagged between them, striking with impunity. Her sword remained un-blooded, only its pommel used to mete out justice. Against such as these there was no need for strong violence. At last, with a bone crunching thud, the gunfire subsided. She half expected them to have some clever ploy prepared, some way to disable or trap her. Pfeh, petty criminals. Is that it? She said, grinning down at the groaning thugs.