10-17-2017, 08:04 PM
After the movie ended, complete with a great deal of commentary from both Greg and Stein alike, they hit the road again. Windows down, cruising speeds, high above the ground; Stein was enjoying himself. They did not really pick a location, more of an “idea.”
“There, right there, I told ya I know my way around!” Greg showed off a bit of his taxi-skills, tilting the vessel to let Stein peer down below to the park almost half a kilometer beneath. “I’ll pull ‘round.” The object in question was a classic beat down. It looks like a small group deep in the park were ganging up on tourists – mugging no doubt.
“No need, just catch me up.” Stein opened the door, wind whipping his unzipped hoodie and headphone wire about. “Cowabunga!” And with the exclamation he was out.
The last thing he heard was Greg’s voice, laughing as he shouted; “You crazy son of a—“ then the wind took the sound away.
Dropping nearly five hundred meters took a few seconds. Ten, tops. During that time, he spread his body to slow himself, each hand creating a palm shield. And then he released them, letting them fall behind. Two more were formed in the last little stretch. “GEEERRRRRONIMOOOOO!”
Poor, poor thugs… In the last few seconds before impact, the call had caused the four or five men to look up. Two of which were greeted with a divebombing Stein planting palm shields right into the face. They buffer the impact slightly, but the shatter and then subsequent impact of his palms to their faces, and then the back of hteir heads to the ground, earn a resounding Thud! Each fallen man had their own symphony of grunts, including Stein.
He managed to use the thugs to break his fall, his body landing in a heap atop theirs. That’s gonna hurt in the morning! “Oi! What the HELL?! Fred? Jason? The HELL is… did … where did you come from?” Questions of a stunned man, at least one could find their voice. The fourth was slowly backing up.
Stein rose to his feet. He had a bandana around his face and a beanie pulled low on his brow with sunglasses to complete his hidden identity. “Just thought I’d drop in.” The Hero winked, only to realize they could not see through the shades. Smooth. The couple they had been attacking sat in equal shock. The man was bloodied and the woman’s blouse was a mess. It looked like he had made it just in the nick of time.
“Well come on then, let’s see what you guys g—“ The man who had backed up whipped out an extending baton and immediately moved in to strike. That tingling sensation raced up Stein’s spine and he could have dodged the attack, but instead he bowed his head and took it right to the crown. Dink! The baton did not even break skin.
As the thug recoiled, Stein reaches out to either side to grab the falling shields. One lands in his hand, hovering perfectly. The other misses, shattering on the ground. He gave it the old Well fuck me, look. He fucked that up. “You got lucky. Wind caught one.”
“Who the hell are you, man?” The talker spoke up. Clearly that was what is part in the gang was – talking. He did not seem to do much else.
Stein chuckled. “Donno. Trying to figure that out… considering reinventing myself.”
“What?”
“You know, a cool Hero name. Maybe I’ll just let it come to me, you know?”
Ting! The shield was lifted about the same time one of the grounded goons had lifted his own gun. The glassy shield cracked, but the true remorse was the shooter’s. He dropped the gun, grabbing his bleeding knee. Stein seemed to hate knees. “Get ‘em Ricky!”
Stein batted the baton as it came in for round two. It was not nearly enough to send Ricky flying, but the redirection left the man toppling right past the Hero, who promptly angled a foot to trip him up. Ricky fell on the goon he assumed was Jason, the shooter, earning another dual symphony of grunts and an additional choked groan from the kneecapped gentleman.
At this point, the battle was basically over, and the thugs knew it. Law enforcement would be arriving soon, thanks to all the noise. Stein walked right past the talkative one, even handing him the cracked glass shield to show just how little they intimidated him. “You two better run along. My friend says mugging is pretty rare on the first Tier, so you should be safe.”
The customary thanks were given in stammering and timid tones before they scampered off. Mmm, she was cute. Probably taken though. “So, I take it you four don’t really do this sort of –“ Crunch! Just as he was turning, he gets a fist to the face, right across the bridge of his nose. Well THAT hurt. The Hero held his nose, having no doubt it would start bleeding. His glasses were shattered, crumbling right in front of his eyes. The burning, cutting sensation suggested some shrapnel had made it past his right eye lid.
After an annoyed grunt, he glared through the shattered shades. “Ow.” Somehow, the sarcastic display of pain was in itself intimidating, to three of the thugs at least. The second man who he had downed on landing was up now. He looked horrible, his face was gnarly and blood coated most of his torso from the double impact. Glass cannon.
Another punch was thrown, and it was dead on accurate. Stein almost let it hit, just to show off, but that tingle was almost a burn across his nerves. At the last second he managed to twist, turning the strike into a glancing blow. Pain instantly seared his shoulder with another sickening Crunch! The right arm from shoulder down felt numb.
Realization hit. The Face was the guy who talked. The man with the gun was the Ranger. The Baton wielding guy was the fighter, most likely, good with weapons. This guy was a monk type. Lower HP, but maximum unarmed and unarmored proficiency. This guy was definitely the strongest of the group. “That’s a mean right hook you have there, pal.”
Stein received a snarl and a glob of blood spat at him. He quickly evaded the crimson loogie, if only to save his new clothes. “Dude, gross!” Not a second after finishing his less than witty retort, another punch was thrown his way – and he felt nothing. His danger sense failed him again. The moment he lost focus, he could not sense anything from this man.
Stein was knocked to his ass, his shades rent from his face as the numbness spreads from his left cheek. The brawler tried to mount him, no doubt to pummel him into the dirt. Stein lifts a foot to kick off the man’s knee, rolling backwards as he stumbled. “No the talkative type, aye? I’m going to go on a wild hunch and say you’re Fred, right? Not the most fearsome name. Oh no, look out for Fred!” He feigned a sense of fear, hands waving.
His ploy failed. Fred did not grow angry, instead he unleashed a one-two combo after stepping forward. While focused on him, Stein could feel the threat level. Whatever Fred was doing to suppress himself seemed to be only slightly weaker than his ability to detect danger. The hero used one hand to swiftly nudge the first strike off course, grazing it past his face, then lifts the elbow to do the same to the other strike. A slight duck let it fly right over his head. His free hand was manifesting another Palm Shield, just for safety.
Before it could finish, the game was over. His danger sense went haywire and he could hear the stamping of feet from all around. Like an angel from above, he heard the familiar hum of a flying vessel. “Looks like my taxi’s here. Catch ya later, Fred.” As soon as Greg brought the vehicle low enough, Stein leapt up to grab the back bumper. And like that, they were off.
Two beers and two party packs of cheap tacos later, Greg and Stein are still hyped. They were not even talking in full sentences, just laughing and replaying the video Greg had recorded on repeat. Greg’s favorite scene was the kamikaze dive bomb and the crack, crunch, thunk series of Stein’s epic landing. He also thoroughly enjoyed that Fred fellow and his fists of hell. “I tell ya, I could almost hear those punches! Baton to the face and not a flinch, but DAYUM!”
“Shut up and let me bum a smoke, old man. Cancer cures.” Greg did not even complain, he handed over a cigarette and a lighter. “Much obliged.”
“You should invest in one of them drone things to follow you around. I bet it’d catch way better audio than your phone from a mile up.” Greg did not seem to mind, he could imagine the sounds of violence well enough.
It was not a bad idea. “Maybe tomorrow. I think I need to find a hotel or something. Bed and a toilet to ruin, you know what I mean?”
“Shit, how about a guest room. My son would get a hoot out of meeting a Prime. ‘Specially a Hero.”
Exhaling a thin cloud through his nostrils, he nodded at the offer. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
“There, right there, I told ya I know my way around!” Greg showed off a bit of his taxi-skills, tilting the vessel to let Stein peer down below to the park almost half a kilometer beneath. “I’ll pull ‘round.” The object in question was a classic beat down. It looks like a small group deep in the park were ganging up on tourists – mugging no doubt.
“No need, just catch me up.” Stein opened the door, wind whipping his unzipped hoodie and headphone wire about. “Cowabunga!” And with the exclamation he was out.
The last thing he heard was Greg’s voice, laughing as he shouted; “You crazy son of a—“ then the wind took the sound away.
Dropping nearly five hundred meters took a few seconds. Ten, tops. During that time, he spread his body to slow himself, each hand creating a palm shield. And then he released them, letting them fall behind. Two more were formed in the last little stretch. “GEEERRRRRONIMOOOOO!”
Poor, poor thugs… In the last few seconds before impact, the call had caused the four or five men to look up. Two of which were greeted with a divebombing Stein planting palm shields right into the face. They buffer the impact slightly, but the shatter and then subsequent impact of his palms to their faces, and then the back of hteir heads to the ground, earn a resounding Thud! Each fallen man had their own symphony of grunts, including Stein.
He managed to use the thugs to break his fall, his body landing in a heap atop theirs. That’s gonna hurt in the morning! “Oi! What the HELL?! Fred? Jason? The HELL is… did … where did you come from?” Questions of a stunned man, at least one could find their voice. The fourth was slowly backing up.
Stein rose to his feet. He had a bandana around his face and a beanie pulled low on his brow with sunglasses to complete his hidden identity. “Just thought I’d drop in.” The Hero winked, only to realize they could not see through the shades. Smooth. The couple they had been attacking sat in equal shock. The man was bloodied and the woman’s blouse was a mess. It looked like he had made it just in the nick of time.
“Well come on then, let’s see what you guys g—“ The man who had backed up whipped out an extending baton and immediately moved in to strike. That tingling sensation raced up Stein’s spine and he could have dodged the attack, but instead he bowed his head and took it right to the crown. Dink! The baton did not even break skin.
As the thug recoiled, Stein reaches out to either side to grab the falling shields. One lands in his hand, hovering perfectly. The other misses, shattering on the ground. He gave it the old Well fuck me, look. He fucked that up. “You got lucky. Wind caught one.”
“Who the hell are you, man?” The talker spoke up. Clearly that was what is part in the gang was – talking. He did not seem to do much else.
Stein chuckled. “Donno. Trying to figure that out… considering reinventing myself.”
“What?”
“You know, a cool Hero name. Maybe I’ll just let it come to me, you know?”
Ting! The shield was lifted about the same time one of the grounded goons had lifted his own gun. The glassy shield cracked, but the true remorse was the shooter’s. He dropped the gun, grabbing his bleeding knee. Stein seemed to hate knees. “Get ‘em Ricky!”
Stein batted the baton as it came in for round two. It was not nearly enough to send Ricky flying, but the redirection left the man toppling right past the Hero, who promptly angled a foot to trip him up. Ricky fell on the goon he assumed was Jason, the shooter, earning another dual symphony of grunts and an additional choked groan from the kneecapped gentleman.
At this point, the battle was basically over, and the thugs knew it. Law enforcement would be arriving soon, thanks to all the noise. Stein walked right past the talkative one, even handing him the cracked glass shield to show just how little they intimidated him. “You two better run along. My friend says mugging is pretty rare on the first Tier, so you should be safe.”
The customary thanks were given in stammering and timid tones before they scampered off. Mmm, she was cute. Probably taken though. “So, I take it you four don’t really do this sort of –“ Crunch! Just as he was turning, he gets a fist to the face, right across the bridge of his nose. Well THAT hurt. The Hero held his nose, having no doubt it would start bleeding. His glasses were shattered, crumbling right in front of his eyes. The burning, cutting sensation suggested some shrapnel had made it past his right eye lid.
After an annoyed grunt, he glared through the shattered shades. “Ow.” Somehow, the sarcastic display of pain was in itself intimidating, to three of the thugs at least. The second man who he had downed on landing was up now. He looked horrible, his face was gnarly and blood coated most of his torso from the double impact. Glass cannon.
Another punch was thrown, and it was dead on accurate. Stein almost let it hit, just to show off, but that tingle was almost a burn across his nerves. At the last second he managed to twist, turning the strike into a glancing blow. Pain instantly seared his shoulder with another sickening Crunch! The right arm from shoulder down felt numb.
Realization hit. The Face was the guy who talked. The man with the gun was the Ranger. The Baton wielding guy was the fighter, most likely, good with weapons. This guy was a monk type. Lower HP, but maximum unarmed and unarmored proficiency. This guy was definitely the strongest of the group. “That’s a mean right hook you have there, pal.”
Stein received a snarl and a glob of blood spat at him. He quickly evaded the crimson loogie, if only to save his new clothes. “Dude, gross!” Not a second after finishing his less than witty retort, another punch was thrown his way – and he felt nothing. His danger sense failed him again. The moment he lost focus, he could not sense anything from this man.
Stein was knocked to his ass, his shades rent from his face as the numbness spreads from his left cheek. The brawler tried to mount him, no doubt to pummel him into the dirt. Stein lifts a foot to kick off the man’s knee, rolling backwards as he stumbled. “No the talkative type, aye? I’m going to go on a wild hunch and say you’re Fred, right? Not the most fearsome name. Oh no, look out for Fred!” He feigned a sense of fear, hands waving.
His ploy failed. Fred did not grow angry, instead he unleashed a one-two combo after stepping forward. While focused on him, Stein could feel the threat level. Whatever Fred was doing to suppress himself seemed to be only slightly weaker than his ability to detect danger. The hero used one hand to swiftly nudge the first strike off course, grazing it past his face, then lifts the elbow to do the same to the other strike. A slight duck let it fly right over his head. His free hand was manifesting another Palm Shield, just for safety.
Before it could finish, the game was over. His danger sense went haywire and he could hear the stamping of feet from all around. Like an angel from above, he heard the familiar hum of a flying vessel. “Looks like my taxi’s here. Catch ya later, Fred.” As soon as Greg brought the vehicle low enough, Stein leapt up to grab the back bumper. And like that, they were off.
Two beers and two party packs of cheap tacos later, Greg and Stein are still hyped. They were not even talking in full sentences, just laughing and replaying the video Greg had recorded on repeat. Greg’s favorite scene was the kamikaze dive bomb and the crack, crunch, thunk series of Stein’s epic landing. He also thoroughly enjoyed that Fred fellow and his fists of hell. “I tell ya, I could almost hear those punches! Baton to the face and not a flinch, but DAYUM!”
“Shut up and let me bum a smoke, old man. Cancer cures.” Greg did not even complain, he handed over a cigarette and a lighter. “Much obliged.”
“You should invest in one of them drone things to follow you around. I bet it’d catch way better audio than your phone from a mile up.” Greg did not seem to mind, he could imagine the sounds of violence well enough.
It was not a bad idea. “Maybe tomorrow. I think I need to find a hotel or something. Bed and a toilet to ruin, you know what I mean?”
“Shit, how about a guest room. My son would get a hoot out of meeting a Prime. ‘Specially a Hero.”
Exhaling a thin cloud through his nostrils, he nodded at the offer. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”