2013-01-20 Eagle of Justice

[NYC]-------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Midtown Manhattan
Midtown is known for its large skyscrapers that make up the bulk of the city's skyline. Midtown has everything from the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings to Broadway and Rockefeller Plaza. It sits just north of Time Square and Lower Manhattan.
It's mid-morning, pleasant, somewhere in one of the uptown districts of New York City. The sun is out, not a cloud in the sky, there are even a few birds that are curiously not pooping on anything important. It's very serene. There are a few small business around the area, places where workers are shuffling in to get a late breakfast or early lunch. On one of the small cluster of tables outside one particular shop is a cluster of men in neat suits, all wielding briefcases, laptops, or tablets of some sort. Most of them are talking about business of one sort or another.
And in the distance there's a horn. Not like a typical angry driver horn, distinctly different. A hunting horn? It sounds again, steadily growing closer. A hawk caws from somewhere down street.
Having not slept all night, Caitlin Fairchild is enjoying a huge cub of coffee, the aroma wafting up from her cup. She is sipping it when the taco bandit leaps by, leaving footprint all over a powder blue prius with an grumpy old guy, a emaciated angry looking Arab man in a turban, a freaky looking islander guy with his big feet out the window with only one shoe, and a Mexican guy who is looking a little green, all carpooling together. As the old guy shakes his fist at Deadpool yells, "Hey, stop messing up my car." the boney Arab guy yells, "Come back here, I KILLLLLL YOU!!!"
Sighing as the New Yorkers yell about traffic and Deadpool, Caitlin just shakes her head, wandering on, sipping her coffee a bit blissfully until the very not-carhorn like trumpeting blairs, causing her to perk up a bit, and do a bit of parkour of her own, leaping up, kicking off a wall, flipping and then using one hand to pull herself onto a 3rd story ledge to get a better view, surveying the area.
Flying overhead, Thor was just waiting. Waiting for something to catch his attention, something to trigger that little chilly flicker down his spine that tells him that something is up. The hunting horn calls his attention from on high. It's atypical, a sound from the forests of Alfheim rather than the streets of Manhattan, and draws the Prince as assuredly as a flame draws a moth. Sccarlet cape fluttering behind him, Thor seems to dive bomb the street, pulling himself up and slowing to a flight speed closer to a run than hurricane windspeeds so that he's a few feet above the traffic.
They come around the corner in a thunder of clopping feet and braying horses. An entire war party, around a dozen men in what appears to be something approximating Greek armor, but with Viking hats. From overhead a hawk swoops downward, beginning to circle around the table of neatly dressed men as it continues its shrill cry.
"Hark!" Unlike Deadpool, the leader of the horsemen, an impossibly burly fellow clasping an oversized axe, proclaims this completely unironically. "They have sin in their hearts!" CAW, CAW. "The Eagle of Justice knows!" He raises a dramatic finger toward the table of businessmen, and then they charge. They charge nearly over Norm, who'd been crossing a light in front of the horsemen, the construction worker letting out a cry of dismay as he scuttles one of the way. They don't much care. None of them even notice people flying, perching on building, or taxis just yet.
They're busy with the nets. Most of them have them, and soon the men eating lunch are shouting and screaming as the ropes are flung over them.
Deadpool turns and literally squees at the sight of the Odinson. "Ohmygodit's THOR! THOR!" Abruptly the Merc With The World's Shortest Attention Span has dropped all but two tacos, and goes running down the street after Thor, leaping from car to car. Still covered in guns. "THOR! I LOVED YOU IN THAT MOVIE ABOUT YOU, AND THE SUBSEQUENT JOSS WHEDON EXTRAVAGANZA OF COMIC AWESOME!" he yells, alternating bites of taco from each fist. "WILL YOU SIGN MY CHALUPA? OR POSSIBLY A GUN OR SOMETHING? WHATEVER!"
Deadpool completely ignores the horsemen that abruptly thunder across his path between him and Thor, and actually literally steps on one of their skulls mid-leap from car to car. "HEEEEY MISTER THOOOOR!"
The chaos of horsemen, a bafoon running around, and Thor passing, Caitlin finds herself unsure what action to take at first. Flipping down, she lands beside the Blue Prius and glares down at the Arab man yelling about killing people, causing him to tremble and roll the window up, catching the shoed foot in the opening and Islander guy to scream in pain. Turning, she jogs to try to intercept a couple of the horsmen, bacing herself against a light post that they'll have to run around, she reaches out trying to time it so she can grab the nets as they pass...
Shouting, she says, "Thor... I think these guys are mocking the Great Hunt. Isn't that some kind of insult to Asgard? Bastardizing your ancient traditions?" She readies herself, hooking her leg back so even if the horsemen hold on, they'll have to fight her strength and the secureness of the post to maintain their positions on the horses...
Horsemen, with Viking hats... and Grecian armor. These silly mortals. Don't they realize Asgard and Olympus have only diplomatic relations and little more? He frowns as the horsemen charge, eyes gleaming with an electrical storm as the runes upon his hammer Mjolnir glow with the threat of rain. He draws himself up, ready to just drop in front of the leader, the largest one with the biggest horned helm, and mightiest voice.
And then, Deadpool happens.
Little concept of what a movie is, no clue who or what a Joss Whedon is to say nothing of chalupas or chimichangas, the Odinson glares unamusedly at Deadpool. "Hel-scorned One. Thy prattle is not of use. Mortals are in danger. Assist or be thee gone from here," says he, the Lord of Storms to He Who Shatters the Fourth Wall with Ease and Joy. Caitlin's shout only adds fuel to the boiling lightning storm in the Thunderer's eyes. Done with his little rant at Deadpool, the Odinson retargets the Big Guy, and flings himself into that horseman's path, dropping to the street with a crunch and crack of asphault.
"Thy fight, Wee Tiny Mortal, is with Me; Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard. Fight me, if thou dares," rumbles Thor in open challenge to the man, seeking to draw him and as many of his forces from the civilians around them and to himself as possible. Voice deep and thunderous, it is heard as the Native Language of any and all who can hear it.
"Yeah, rock on! With us!" Deadpool is abruptly backing Thor up, except in the way the frame sets, it's more like Deadpool just photobombed Thor by jumping between him and the bad guys. "Thor, God of Kickass Storms! Deadpool, honorary Asgardian!"
He leans against Thor's pauldron. "Can I be, like, the God of Class III Firearms? Or the Lord of Tacos? I mean, whatever. I'm easy like Sunday morning." He flicks some dust from Thor's cape, gushing up at him. "And I just have to say, when you give them the big bad voice, it makes me all gushy. What's your perfect Saturday afternoon?"
Two of the horsemen manage to get their nets caught on Caitlin on their pass, attempting to hold and finding that it proves more difficult than they might thing. Off the go, plopping to the ground at her feet with a crash and rattle of armor. One even falls off then Deadpool uses him as a stepping stone, apparently thrown off balance. Median is kind of staring in the background, because, really, this is pretty far fetched even by his standards.
"What is this!?" The leader of the men cries, his horse rearing up short when Thor turns himself into an impressive roadblock. "You dare impede our quest for justice!? Do you not know Androcles, champion of champions? Slayer of the Hyperion Hydra? Climber of the seventy-six and a half peaks?" Plop, off his horse he goes. Half of the horsemen circle up around Thor and Deadpool, while the rest turn to face Fairchild. On the bright side, nobody is absconding with the businesspeople.
"Well, I dare do many things. Mostly because"
There's a ridiculous series of guns being cocked, and abruptly there are more firearms barrels being pointed at the guy than any one person with two hands should be able to accommodate. Wade tilts his head sideways and beams from under his mask. "Also, because you can either tangle with a few hundred rounds of military hardware, or, you can see if Thor Odinson, voted Sexiest Asgardian Alive 2011 /and/ 2012, can really mash you into paste with the legendary Mjolnir. Also, I dropped my taco." Deadpool smashes his forehead against the wannabe Androcles', staring him down. "And /you don't mess with me when I drop my tacos/."
Fairchild doesn't even let go of the nets, smiling as she begins to twirl them like cheerleader's batons, stepping away from the pole now that she no longer needs it to anchor her against the momentum of people being on horseback. She doesn't stop there, but begins to do a series of no hand cartwheels and flips, her long legs swinging around, completely unconcerned if she kicks any of the dismounted horsemen, or even knocks them with their own compatriots, catches them in the nets, or what not.
Unlike the Merc with a Mouth, Caitlin is more action then words, but she does have a few witty remarks, "Obviously you boys were never taught proper manners. You're supposed to be polite when meeting a lady, and not try to attack her. Also, pretty sure some of those accolades were done by Hercules, and seeing as I've met the guy, I know you're not him." of course he may never hear that with the Deadpool butthead headbutt.
Thor grins as Deadpool mentions him smashing them with Mjolnir. The comment is enough to make the Asagrdian ignore the gushing from earlier. A single clap of thunder rings out just as Thor launches himself into part of the school of hunters. Deadpool wants to tackle the big guy, Thor's not going to interrupt. After all. The Odd One did take a lightning bolt to the chest and walk away. Mjolnir charges with lightning, Thor swings mightly, seeking to bowl over as many as he can.
"Thou did have thy chance to run, Mortals!" The Odinson cries out as he charges.
By the time Caitlin is done she has about five of the horsemen either caught up in nets, or conked together. It's probably not that hard, on the whole. A few others attempt to prevent her from going farther, drawing swords flailing in the directions she's passing, rushing forward in attack. The remained go flying like bowling pins, scattering across the ground. Only one of them gets to his feet. And he's frothing man. Literally. He reaches down, rips out a chunk of concrete, and simply hurls it at Thor with an animalistic cry.
Androcles is busy with Deadpool getting in his face, so he allows Thor and Fairchild to do their thing. "Begone, villain!" And then he tries to backhand Deadpool. It's very disrespectful. It'll also probably hurt. Like, a lot. The sheer force he's putting behind the blow is something a little more than human.
Deadpool doesn't even give Androcles a chance to swing. He puts enough lead into his face in two seconds to give him lead poisoning. Y'know, let alone a few dozen half-inch holes in the face being a major inconvenience.
Deadpool stops shooting when the magazines run empty, keeping his sights on the target the entire way. "Reloading! This guy, he looks like bullets are kind of an inconvenience!" he yells, doing gun things with magazines and levers and stuff. "So, uh-" He hits his teleporter and with a bzzzrt disappears from Androcle's immediate smitin' range.
Fairchild pauses in her gymnastics display, cracks her neck side to side while still twirling the nets (and subsequently the guys held in them by centrifugal force), she then glances back and decides to help the disappeared lunatic, by flinging the net in her right hand at Androcles, tossing a quip along with the tossed goons, "Hey, Androgenous, man up, or men in this case." with a mischevious smile at her mocking of his name and her little joke.
Looking back to the guys with swords she sighs, transfering the still spinning net from her left hand to her right, "Look guys, I'd rather we did this the easy way. I'll be pretty clear on this, I can and have gone toe to toe with guys like Juggernaut, and other then some ruined clothing I always came away from them with little more then a headache, so do you really want me to cut loose?" glancing to see if the guys in the net she is still spinning are unconscious or just have a serious case of motion sickness, or possibly even neither.
Thor clears a full half of the circle of Andrcles' men, then leaps from the edge of the circle into the center, where Deadpool had once stood. Right hand brandishes Mjolnir above his head to unleash a wave of lightning strikes, arcing out in all directions around himself. The lightning strikes lampposts, fries streetlights, shorts out a few power lines, and hopefully drops the rest of the circle of men around him, leaving him alone with Androcles.
Apparently fighting hydras makes your face slightly more resistant to damage. Androcles reels back from the barrage of gunfire, most of the bullets bouncing off every which-way, though he does spit quite a few out when he roars in pain. His attempt to punch the life out of Deadpool is cut short when the merc simply vanishes in this air, prompting a cry of, "Witchcra-" The net full of men smacks him in the back, and he's summarily flattened. Only to burst free from the pile and get another face full of lightning. The rest of the group drops in short order, even the one menacing Fairchild and that crazy guy tearing up the concrete.
"Why do you impede my quest for justice?" The man demands. "The Eagle of Justice says you are not evil-" CAW CAW. "What is the purpose of this!?"
BRATBRATBRAT
Deadpool throws up the horns, smoke pouring from the barrel in his hand as he lets off from the sustained burst of fire plowing into Androcles. "Sorry! Had to AFK to grab some snackage and then grab this puppy." He hoists up the integrally suppressed heavy machine gun. "I keep her oiled up and loaded with phosphorized tungesten carbine rounds. Boy, she ain't cheap to shoot, but have you seen what this'll do to a one-inch sheet of steel?" He puts the gun to his hip, laser flickering. "Say herro to my lil' frien'!" he declares, and promptly lays the hurt down on the Grecian wannabes. "And your $^*@*$ crow!" he adds, winging a shot off at the bird with an offhand pistol shot.
*THRACKABOOOOOOOM*
Lighting is drawn to a ground, and thankfully for Caitlin, that means the guys with Swords are holding really good lightning rods, which does them no good... downside is the net also sort of counts as a lightning rod, and while her reflexes allow her to release it mid twirl, it isn't before she gets clipped by the lightning racing through it and its passangers and right down on, around, and partly through her as well. A normal human would be out cold or possibly dead, but Caitlin is far from normal... her clothes however were quite ordinairy materials, were being the operative word as her glasses are melted and mangled, her gloves are charred completley off, her shoes are now just the rubber toe and soles, her jeans are now daisy dukes that show all her legs and a bit more if you're behind her, and the jersey, while it retained more material then her other attire, is now sleeveless, and their is actual negative space where the letters and numbers used to be on it, leaving far less material then there was moments before, not to mention her bra is glowing as if the wiring in it is on fire.
Twitching and staggering, Caitlin slowly reaches up to smooth down her hair, which is standing on end, her waves now sharp lightning spikes rising up from the top of her head, and any bands that were holding it into a ponytail are long gone. She has no words, no comments, she just shapes her lips, blackend by her makeup being burned, into and 'O' and blows out rings of smoke before staggering a few more feet and falling to her knees, looking quite dazed.
Well, that does hurt. Androcles is about to say more, but having several dozen rounds of high-powered rifle stifles that real quick. For a minute it looks like he's actually going to power on through it, but after a few seconds of getting thumped on the head by slugs he drops to the sidewalk with a heavy thump. He's out.
The Eagle of Justice flies away, squawking indignantly.
"Doo be doo be do wop bop, doo be doo be do wop bop bop." Deadpool singsongs under his breath as calmly as if he were unloading groceries. He backslings the absurdly oversized machine gun, stripping a few fresh rounds from an ammo pounch and loading them into his handgun. He walks up to the first Grecian and puts the gun against the guy's head, then pauses.
"So, like, I've got a scruples question here. On the one hand, would you, like, kick your puppy to save your cat? On the other hand, would you leave a psycho Greek wanna be running around full of your recently inflicted bullet wounds?" He considers, tapping the slide of the handgun against his head in thought. "Decisions. I mean- you're a hot chick," he tells Caitlin. "What's gonna impress you more? Gritty realistic determination or heroic selflessness?"
Still on her knees, and still looking fried half out of her brain, Caitlin raises her hand up and crooks a finger in a come here motion as if wanting Deadpool to come close so she can whisper her answer to him, peering at him a bit, as she waits for the little sparks to stop jumping from hair to hair and her breath to stop being partly smoke. Obviously speaking loudly will be difficult for her, so she needs him close to answer.
Deadpool wanders over to Caitlin and hunkers down in a squat, pistol still clasped loosely in one hand. He wraps his arms around his knees and peers at her from behind his mask. "What's up? Can't take a little lightning to the face?"
Slowly turning to look directly into Deadpool's eyes, or at least where they should be under his mask, she shrugs a bit about the lightning then, smiles sweetly, and whispers, "Wanna these days... Wanna these days..." *cough* *cough* and then with the speed and reflexes one doesn't usually expect from someone on her strength level, she thruts her fist straight up, like a video game super uppercut, the angle of it just about right to sent Deadpool straight to the Hudson River, finishing her statement, with "POW, right in the kisser... or is that straight to the moon... well too late either way."
"I can see my house from heeeeeeeeeree....."
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