The Pirate Kingpin (Norn)

The nightclub had a techno vibe. The lone gentleman that entered did not. Everything about him was old fashioned, from the extravities of his goatee to the reservedness of his garb. He wore a high collared morning coat over a white button up shirt, tailored trousers, and a cravat of all things. Acrown his head was a very fine top hat. In his hand an ivory cane, with which he moved with a practiced swagger. Black John was not a party goer.

His steady pace through the bustling crowd of drunkards brought him to a booth flanked by two bodyguards. There was only one booth at the same level as this. But that booth was inhabited by Mr Quackers, the feared mob enforcer, who had a pair of woman on each wing feeding him bread. Black John, meanwhile, fixated his attention on the occupant of the first booth. He cleared his throat.

"Captain? Let him through! What an unexpected pleasure. Take a seat. Take a drink. It's on the house."

A grave face nodded his thanks before sliding into a cushioned seat. Black John lay his cane across his lap and clasped his hands in meek fashion, "Good evening Trujillo. I apologise that I did not call ahead. How is business?"

"Ahh. Not good my friend. It don't look it, but the club isn't at capacity. Someone opened a new nightclub somewhere. They're draining my attendance. But once all the junkies get over this new fad, they'll return to me. They know none do it better." The gangster laughed, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"A bit of ghastly business, alas. I couldn't help but notice you decided to go with another supplier. You asked someone else to get you those banned beverages that you and I were so prosperous in the exchange of."

Trujillo sucked his teeth in a manner that suggested acquiescence, but meant he wasn't going to budge, "Yes. Well, it can't be all that surprising. Seeing as how your smuggling racquet ain't had anything to sell for months now."

"The Russian blockade applies to my ships as well as anybody else's."

"Yeah, and I feel for you friend. But I have a demand that must be met. It's not an insult to you. You shouldn't be so sensitive."

"I understand."

A waiter had arrived with an extra glass which he placed in front of Black John, "Excellent! Then you will share a drink with me? To show there are no hard feelings." Trujillo reached out to take the wine bottle from the waiter.

Black John got there first and examined the label, "1893. A good year."

"Not my favourite vintage, but as you say, times are hard."

"I'm not talking about the wine." Without warning the pirate broke into a snarl and swing the bottle down on Trujillo's head like a hammer. The booth exploded into shouting and shards of glass. The gangster slumped down unconscious on the table as both bodyguards drew their pistols and shot the assailant. Without so much as wincing, Black John had rounded on them. He stabbed one in the face with the broken shards of his improvised weapon, and punched the second. Now the entire nightclub devolved into mayhem. Black John hollered at the party goers, "GET! OUT!"

In the next booth. Mr Quackers jumped to his webbed feet and pulled a tommy gun out of nowhere. The duck levelled it at Black John. The pirate regarded his adversary calmly and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a wad of notes. He counted several thousand out in from of the duck before handing the bundle over. Mr Quackers turned his firearm away and snatched up the money, stuffing it into his feathers.

"Tell the Don this man was the one who tipped me off about the armoury raid. He'll be glad I took care of him." An affirmative quack was the response and Mr Quackers waddled out of the nightclub into the evening cool. Black John turned to regard the room. A few of his men had slipped in and taken other staff loyal to Trujillo prisoner, "Bring them out back, and load them onto the van. Bind and gag them." His men set about their work.

Trouble was afoot this fine evening as Mav was making her usual rounds. She normally went through the clubbing district pretty quickly as few would dare cause a commotion in such a public place. Not to mention the bouncers in this area were more intimidating than your average policeman and were quite skilled at throwing out troublemakers that do turn up. The sound of gunshots followed by crowds of people rushing out of a certain techno club was not a good sign though. Clearly whatever trouble was happening there had gone out of hand.

"You'd think a nightclub that 'reputable' would have better security."

Thinking it would be difficult getting in through the front with all the people trying to get out, Mav decided to head for the back. As soon as she opened the doors, she was met by the most suspicious looking welcome party ever: armed men herding another bunch of people bound and gagged heading out where she was coming in. There was about a couple of seconds of awkward silence before Mav finally spoke.

"Bad guys right? Any chance you could let them go and we can settle this all peacefully?"

Of course there wasn't. The blue-clad girl assumed fighting stance and activated her aura. Tonight was going to be rough.

"What is this hold up!" A cane tapped lightly on the shoulders of two strapping young thugs, and they parted like the Red Sea to allow Black John passage straight through. He paused in the doorway and looked down on the creature that barred his path. Tiny in comparison to his men. But in Jump City that did not allow carelessness. The pirate narrowed his eyes and sniffed once before replying in an airy, unconcerned manner. "I like to keep myself apprised of the city's happenings. And you, my dear, are indeed a happening. Maverique, is it not? I have no beef with you. Shall we call it a hundred? To stand aside." An eyebrow raised.

Mav looked up at tonight's adversary. Unlike him, she couldn't return the courtesy of knowing who she was dealing with. When it came to villains, Jump had too many to know by heart. The man was certainly familiar but for now, she couldn't find the name to match with the face. Well, after tonight, that probably won't be an issue anymore.

"No can do sir. You've got captives bound and gagged and I can spot a few in need of medical attention. Something tells me you're not taking them to the hospital."

"I don't know what your beef with these people is, but this is hardly the neighborly way to go about it. As one of the city's goody-two-shoes heroes, I'm obliged to put a stop to it. I'm curious though how any heroes have actually stood aside after hearing that line."

Mav could feel it from where she stood. One by one the counter on her hostility meter was increasing. That was one of the perks of the talk-first-beat-up-later approach. It gave her a better idea of just how many she was up against. Honestly, she wished she had backup. For one, the man could easily turn this into a hostage situation and that would be a pain to deal with.

Black John peered forward on his cane. He wasn't above negotiating with teenage girls. His had always been a philosophy of care. While other criminal organisations went out and got their hides tanned by the superhero elite, he had sat back, read his newspaper headlines, and acquired a respect for his adversary. Youth was not adjacent to skill. Only wisdom. And Black John was a fountain of said wisdom. He knew there were more concerns in a person's life than what was immediately before them. The same was true of heroes, "It's as you suspect. Few to none. Heroism is born out of poor financial acuity. What is it that pays for your gadgetry? Your good deeds? Am I to understand that you would beggar yourself?"

One of Black John's lackeys were getting edgey, "Captain. We're on the clock."

"Aye, that we are." The immortal nodded his resignation to the point. Without advertising his intentions, Black John raise his cane horizontally so it could be clasped in both hands, and then charged Maverique. He tried to push her back from the doorway - if so - into the wall opposite them. This would allow his men to stream out behind him and make headway on the van, "Ten thousand! Last offer! Think of who you could be with ten thousand!"

This villain was rather pushy. It's not as though Mav couldn't get where he was coming from. He was just talking to the wrong person. Heroes wouldn't be real heroes if they were easily tempted by money. Then again, maybe she could only say that because she never had much need  for a lot of it. Her uncle was, for lack of better term, very supportive of her activities and helped her out whenever she needed things. It probably helps to have a lot of connections in the mercenary trade.

"I'd share but that's on a need to know basis. Sorry sir. No deal."

From his lackey's interjection, Mav understood that they were in a hurry. Talking time was most likely over and she easily picked up on what was coming next. Mav responded by her foot glowing red and the friction coefficient of the floor within 2 meters around her reduced to nearly 0. It would be more slippery than than an ice skating rink. Meanwhile her other foot kept the friction normal directly under her so that she could keep her own balance. She sidestepped the incoming thugs, who ended up in a human pileup behind her after sliding out of control.

Loosing your footing on ice could result in a nasty injury. Many were bruised by the tumble, including captives, and at least one man twisted his wrist badly. That man was Black John. He was on the bottom of the pile and he forced his way into air, snapping his wrist back into place, "Get off me you clods! Shoot her!" The back entrance was suddenly alive with gunfire.

----------------

Oh cmon! This is our lunch hour.

Maybe they're clay pigeon shooting.

On mass?

You're right. They're shooting regular pigeons then.

Which means we still have to check it out.

Blinkin' heck!

Onyekachi passed his Chinese takeaway to a pair of arms behind his back. A second mouth grew out the back of his head and the arms started feeding noodles into it. Meanwhile the main body concentrated on running towards danger. Despite his lunchtime comment it was early evening. Everything had gone to gloom without really turning dark. Onyekachi slipped around the back of the nightclub with caution.

Mav realized a little too late that her little stunt would of course put some of the captives in harms way. She expected the thugs would rush her but not while bringing along the tied up people with them. She lightly bopped her head at the miscalculation, noting that she would apologize for her carelessness later when the situation was resolved.

As the bad guys reached for her guns, Mav felt she should be a little more careful now. While bullets couldn't really hurt her, one unlucky ricochet and someone a lot more fragile could end up in a life threatening situation. In that regard, she tried to keep her distance as much as possible, waiting out for an opportunity when they would have to reload. Not everyone was able to get up from the tumble right away so she still managed to circle around them, positioning herself near a lone van that was most likely their getaway car.

Of course. It was never that easy. Superhumans didn't respect the power of a good firearm. The kingpin did not know why Maverique was keeping her distance but it was obvious they didn't have the oomph to silence her. Knocking down the barrel of a gun himself, Black John called for a ceasefire. He then immediately grabbed a captive and held a pistol to the quivering man's temple. Between the crook of neck and shoulder he peered across at the girl, "One false move and he dies." Taking hostages was uncouth. The Captain tried to avoid it where he could. But on this occasion he'd been planning to kill the gentleman anyway.

However, they need not find out how that standoff would have ended. As soon as Black John made his threat, a set of headlamps came to shine directly behind Maverique. The van had a driver. Its engine revved, building up steam, ready to unleash it all in one burst. This driver's clear intention was to run the vigilante over. Smiling, Black John added his complication to the mix. He tossed his captive to land at Maverique's feet. Let's see a small girl carry a fully grown man out the way of a speeding vehicle.

For a moment there, Mav found herself in quite the predicament as her adversary of the day finally threatened to harm the captives. She didn't really have a ready answer to such a situation besides cooperating until she found an opportunity or opening to turn the tables. Cue the sigh of relief when the bad guys decided to change tactics. A cockier hero might have graciously pointed out that their new plan was a bad idea, but Mav was not about to waste her good luck by telling her opponents what they did wrong. They'll find out soon anyway.

Carrying the man to safety in the small window of time she had to react was definitely beyond her physical abilities, but there were other ways to move heavy weights without needing too much strength. From the aura on her feet, she altered the friction of the ground again, allowing her to slide the man to safety with a quick shove. Better to get a few scratches than risk getting run over.

Since the van was aiming to hit her, she figured she ought to meet it head-on because the driver would only follow if she tried to avoid it. After pushing the hostage to safety, she had just enough time to stand up and stop the incoming vehicle with one hand, her aura still activated of course. This was mostly an unnecessary action. With her aura on, it didn't matter what position she was in. The van would hit a solid immovable block; the front of the vehicle folding inwards as the full force of the crash was returned back to it. She just figured "stopping a speeding van with one hand" would make her appear more intimidating in the villains' eyes.

"I hope you have insurance."

A shot rang out. The man Maverique had saved was writhing with agony, clutching his side. Black John raised the barrel of his revolver and puffed at it as if there were smoke emanating from the end. Despite the setbacks he had not lost his cool, "I hope he had life insurance." The men behind him held their hostages close. Only the still unconscious Trujillo was not standing.

"It is my experience that bullet wounds are fatal if left unattended. And I do believe the Health Service's response time has wavered of late, what with Jump City being an active warzone. Take the man, take the van since it's a write off anyway, and leave here." The pirate then jammed his gun under the chin of another helpless soul, "Or do you wish to negotiate for more hostage releases? Every one that lies prone greater decreases the chance any are saved."

There came an almighty crash. The front bumper of the van falling off as the whole vehicle was lifted into the air with a creak. Underneath were two demon brothers, grunting with the effort until they could retain sure footing. The Kishi moved in tandem and very shortly had such a weight in hand. They tried to look menacing, "How's this for negotiation? Give up or we'll kill you all in one fell swoop!"

((OOC: I guess we can both control Black John now. ))

And there it was. This was the hostage situation she had been dreading. Much to her disappointment, her attempt at intimidation didn't seem to work. And now she was forced to negotiate with the bad guys... something she was never really fond of. But before she could say a word in response, a newcomer decided to announce his involvement in a way she didn't quite approve. He was a hero too right? She had to ask herself the question twice. After all, not many heroes would threaten to kill their villainous adversaries.

"Um, that's a bit much don't you think?" Mav could only comment silently. She did however, appreciate the distraction that the unexpected arrival caused.

Mav quickly aimed her line launcher at the boss man's hand, using a magnetic tip to latch on to the gun and then reel it in, out of his grip.

"I don't support killing, sir. But this guy can lift a van like nothing, so I can't guarantee the safety of you and your men if he decides to go through with his offer. Me? I'm happy to give you a head start running if you leave the hostages here."

What about the guy who was shot?

F'word the guy who was shot.

Yeah. But don't we have to help him first?

I think folk with a gun to their head trump flesh-wounds.

The last thing the brothers needed now was their headache to flare up because they had been inattentive to one life threatening situation or another. They had gotten involved with this standoff because they had to - not because they necessarily had a relish to see these meatbags walk out of here alive. It would do him a favour if the gangsters shot all their hostages now. It would mean he could go home.

No. We'd still have to drag that crybaby to hospital. To heck with that.

The kingpin growled in frustration as his gun was taken, and flicked his wrist into the air as a signal. One of his men evidently took this as the 'fire away' gesture. Another hostage was wounded, allowed to collapse screaming to the tarmac. Kishi had seen enough.

"Go ahead then! I'll call your bluff! A hero never-" The van was thrown.

Fortunately a moment before it did the driver had leaped from the driver-side door - Onyekachi had forgotten he was in there hidden behind the airbag. The van flipped upwards, high into the air. Once overhead, gravity took its toll, and the vehicle dropped ever closer to the heads of its stunned audience. They broke all at once - fleeing this way and that, forgetting their charges. Everyone except for Black John.

"Girl. Don't let 'em run!" Before Maverique's eyes a third and fourth Kishi would leap from the demons' bare chests. Clothes-wise they had to make do with sharing a pair of trousers, shorts, boxers, and loincloth. Three of these Kishi now ran towards Black John. The kingpin stepped back warily at their approach, but the Titans weren't interested in him. They looked skywards and caught the overarcing van. The impact forced the trio down unto their knees, and damaged the vehicle further. Thank goodness Mav had broken it already - or the curse would have stricken the brothers for this.

The fourth Kishi (Ernesto), began the job of corralling the runaways. He grabbed a thug by their arm and spun him round. He was met with a fist to his face for his troubles. Ernesto took it in his stride and smiled - he dealt his assailant a harder blow, and put him to the ground.

Mav really hated hostage situations. Thanks to her incompetence in that matter, yet another had to suffer a gunshot wound. But what's done was done. Now the thugs were fleeing in all directions thanks to the very believable threat of a large van falling on top of their heads courtesy of the strong guy. She ought to ask him for lessons in bluffing. As for his power to literally split up, she'd have to comment on that later.

"I'm on it!"

Though the bad guys "scattered", there really was only the gate for delivery trucks that they could make a getaway to, unless they planned on scaling the walls. Mav attempted to head off those running towards it but would come up just short. He powers would make up for the difference though. As she got close, she once again altered the friction on the ground near her to cause the frantically running thugs to slip and fall down, skidding on the ground until they were out of the affected range. The few thugs she did manage to beat to the gate stopped before they could get near her. Wising up to what she seemed to be doing, they pulled out their guns instead and started to shoot.

Well, if they didn't want to get closer, she would have to go to them. She rushed forward, ignoring the bullets bouncing of her aura, to deliver a sliding kick to the closest thug and nailing him on the shin. From how that impact felt, Mav figured he must have gotten a fracture, as he dropped to the ground crying in pain.