A Night on Patrol

June 7th - 2010 - Monday - 11:47 PM - Jump City, Downtown

It was a quiet night, to say the least. The sky was clear, giving way to the few stars that could be seen over the light pollution the city produced; some would say that there were a fair few, only to mistake half of them for passing aircraft.

On ground level, there were no crowds, there was no traffic, and you could almost say that were was no noise. One or two people wandered the streets, the occasional car would drive by, and the powerful, rythmic, yet muffled beat of the bass in any night club could be heard by those wandering by.

No crime was committed, no disaster could be found, not even an argument was raging in the homes of the inner-city folk. All was well, this mid night dreary.

For Paladin, it couldn't be any better.

His surveilance of one of the Titans had only just begun, and he would have rather spent the earlier parts of his investigation looking into the mysterious young woman known as Raven rather than fighting crime. After all, according to the academy, she was a criminal now, and had to be dealt with by the book.

So, here he stood, atop the tallest building along the coast line, staring at the tower, waiting, wondering why the Titans aren't on patrol themselves. Surely they would be more capable if they were to patrol once in a while.

Shaking his head, the young man looked behind him to the rest of the city

'Just a few more minutes,' he muttered, 'then I, too, can rest. I have to be at the Coffee Farm by eleven tomorrow, I can't play tired.'

he returned to watching the tower. Part of him felt that he would have been more productive if he actually went to the tower itself, but he reminded himself of the great possibility of security systems. He would have gone home already, but of course, there was the distinct possibility of night based crimes popping up, and him missing the opportunity to monitor Raven's use of magic.

So, for the next few minutes, he would stand. perhaps something would eventually come up.

Simca somersaulted, jumping off yet another building as she landed on the one in front of it. She had spent her day happily being the super-heroine she was meant to be. There were no big evil villains out today and she was just having fun around Jump City with the regulars - seducing and then beating the pulp out of pick-pockets and other kinds of thieves and generally owning the criminal kind of Jump City.

She stood up, looking down at the city she had grown to love so much before. The future Jump City was not that different from now - it just featured hovercars and the more modern and sleeker looking buildings but the essence was still the same. It was still the nice, protecting, well-lit city it was. Not like Gotham in any sense. It just gave her the chills.


She noticed that there was someone else on the roof as well. She hoped it was not a villain. Looking at the boy, she realizing that he was spying on the T-Tower. Her eyes narrowed. He was not some kind of villain or spy, was he? He seemed to be, as he was more inclined towards watching the Tower than doing anything else.

The barefoot eighteen-year-old walked forward, not making a sound as her soft soles touched the cold floor of the roof of the building as she walked over next to the so-far nameless boy. "Hey," she greeted, smiling slightly. Just because he possibly had a chance of being a bad guy did not mean he was. Despite what old man Bruce had tried to drill into her head, Simca was just to type to be kind and nice to everyone. Innocent until proven guilty, after all. "Whatcha' doin'?" The girl dressed like an exotic gypsy dancer with a rose tattoo on running down her mid-riff asked.

And there it was.

Of course, he couldn’t dispute the fact that it was a possibility. He was standing on the roof of a tall building, in the middle of the night, staring at the headquarters of the local superheroes that practically swarm the city. The fact that only one had turned up was more surprising than one turning up at all.

He turned towards the young woman, his brown eyes cold with thought. In the few fleeting moments between her question and his response, he scanned her, taking into account her appearance and personality, leaving a short pause, as if he hadn’t heard the first time around.

‘outfit is revealing, to say the least, subject seems to be following the female meta-human stereotype of ‘less is more’,’ he thought, ‘hand is bandaged, possibly in some form of conflict, chances of being a hero or villain increased. Unless she’s a resident of this building, she may have powers that permit her to get to this place. Rose tattoo suggests Rose or Flower based motif or theme, possibly Plant control. Personality seems friendly, but not devious. Chances of knowing the target are high. Respond with default answer.’

“What I am doing is none of your concern,” he said, rather bluntly too. His voice was odd. It sounded British, but with a slight American twist to it, as if he had begun to pick up the accent after years of being in the country.

He saw no threat in this young woman, but already he felt his mission was at risk. His goal was ‘covert’ supervision, and in little to no time at all, he was found by someone. Perhaps it would have been easier to go to one of the team’s usual spots in civilian attire and then follow them from there. The more he thought about it, in fact, the more he believed that this initial idea was too silly to be deemed an idea in the first place.

Now he hoped there would be a crime, a break in, something to permit him the freedom to leave and deal with it. He couldn’t stay and analyse the tower, nor could he leave. Either way, it looked incriminating, and something told him that he would have to watch his target some other way.

Wandering the streets, Zack Wylder had never really been one for sleeping at night. He preferred to cause trouble whenever he could. Currently, he was tossing a wickedly serrated combat knife into the air repeatedly as he walked, his other hand in his pocket. Never having been one for fancy costumes, he wore a worn and beaten pair of jeans, combat boots, and a white tee shirt under an open brown leather jacket. He had a Famas slung over his back, though it stayed in place without any visible means for support. As he walked, he hummed to himself, then abruptly stopped as he came across an army surplus store. His hazel eyes widening, he ran a hand through his slicked back brown hair as a childlike grin spread across his angled and noble features. "Ooh! Shiny!" He strode up to the door, pressing his palm flat against it. after a moment, there was a click, and he was in. Oddly there was no alarm, and he literally waltzed out of the door, using an old BDU top as a dancing partner. After a moment, he suddenly screamed angrily and threw the shirt onto the ground, drawing his previously concealed Glock from the back of his belt. He quickly put three rounds into the shirt and walked back towards the shop, muttering angrily. "That'll teach ya not to step on my toes. You're a terrible dancer. You dance bad and you should feel bad." re-entering the shop, he emerged after several minuets juggling roughly five combat knives from various wars and humming circus music to no one in particular. Again, he screamed, but this time out of surprise. Throwing the knives away, he drew his original combat knife and began arguing with it. "Who were they? Umm... No one in particular. No, no I'm not cheating on you! I could never! you know you're the only knife for me! No, they weren't better than you! I was just having a little fun, I promise! I would never stab anyone with any knife but you! Aye, and I to. Thank you." He hugged his knife, admiring it for a moment before putting it away. "Too bad all the grenades in there are defused little pieces of display junk..." He said sadly, and trudged off toward a gas station on the street corner. "Maybe some beef jerky will cheer me up.

Simca stared right back at the boy as he 'scanned' her; almost thinking he was some kind of pervert who was taking in and enjoying the view of her body, but she really got dejected when he spoke up rudely. “What I am doing is none of your concern.” Simca pouted cutely, which was her natural expression whenever she felt dispirited.

"Then what are you doing spying on the T-Tower?" She asked simply, not paying attention to what was going on in the streets below as she focused hers solely on Mister Mystery.

Her persistency was to be expected, but it still made Paladin slightly uncomfortable.

The way she pouted caused him to raise an eyebrow. Her personality made him wonder if it was some form of act, or if she was genuinely this 'cutesy'.

He turned back to the tower. If he was caught, he was caught, no need to find an escape route. Still, he couldn't divulge any information, but as a 'Paladin' he couldn't lie either. Simply not telling her anything, or remaining deliberately vague would be good enough.

"Then what are you doing spying on the T-Tower?" She asked. He sighed and shook his head

"Again, it does not concern you," he answered, "now, if yo-"

Then he heard something.

The terrifying pop of a gun echoed faintly in the night air. Then it happened again, and again. Something was going on, and part of the mysterious young man was relieved, as it gave him a chance to simply disappear. However, considering this young woman's questions, her psychology, and the possibility of her having powers, he was willing to take a gamble on her being a good guy.

"did you hear that?" he asked, walking to the ledge of the building and peering off, down into the streets, "something's happening down there."

he couldn't see what was happening from this high up. All he could see were one or two dots, one of which was moving at a fairly slow pace, not the speed one would expect a civilian to be moving at after the sound of gunfire

Zack reached the gas station, once again placing his hand to the doorway, and once again it opened with a soft click. Walking into the store, he looked around, and anyone in the street would be able to hear his voice. "Hmm, odd. I can't find the beef jerky. Why is that? What kind of worthless gas station doesn't heve beef jerky? They all have beef jerky! What is wrong with this city that they would allow a gas station with no beef jerky?! Gah!" The sound of a shelf being kicked over is heard. "What's the matter with- oh, wait here it is. What a stupid place for beef jerky to be." he walked out moments later carrying several bags under his arm. Grabbing a bag with his other hand, he tore it open with his teeth. Sitting down on the sidewalk, he began munching on jerky while looking around, a bored expression on his face.

Simca pouted further, crossing her arms over her breasts as the mysterious boy cut her off once again, telling her that it was not her place to ask. Well, it probably wasn't but that didn't stop her from trying! She was going to find out what he was doing spying on the T-Tower one way or the other and she--

The bang caused her to look towards the source of the over-rated noise. "did you hear that?" he asked, walking to the ledge of the building and peering off, down into the streets, "something's happening down there."

"Gee, ya think?" Simca muttered sarcastically. The hero within her immediately sprang into action as she jumped over the ledge, flipping through the air before she slammed her feet into thin air. The air became solid underneath her bare feet, acting as an elastic before sending her flying over higher, towards the 'dot' Paladin was referring to. It looked more like a person to her every second as gravity pulled her down to the earth below, her arms spread wide as she fell.

Just a few meters above the ground she flipped her body once, slamming her feet down into the air causing it to become solid underneath her feet for two seconds - enough time for her to pull of another somersault and land on the ground without a noise and with the grace of a trained acrobat in front of Silent Night as he sat down on the sidewalk eating beef jerky.

"Drop the jerky and hands in the air, thief!" She yelled, pointing at Silent Night with a cute but angry expression on her face. No one violated the trust of the beef jerky! It was the silent property of gas station owners and was protected by copyright!

The young woman's act of leaping off the building took Paladin by surprise, but as he watched her fall, he soon got his answer as to whether she possessed super powers or not.

'impulsive behaviour, ability allows her to negate gravitational effects,' he thought, 'at least that I know that she's either a hero or a thrill-seeker.'

"Ok, standard protocol, aid the situation then disappear in the confusion when it's all over," he muttered. With that said, he dove off the building.

The world raced towards him, the wind whistling in his ears. The cloth of his costume rustled while the metal clattered.

It was a sensation that Chris had grown to love, and Paladin had grown to tollerate. it was almost strange how his efforts to protect his emotions during his life as a protector had almost made him two different people. Part of him felt that it would eventually drive him to madness, while another part felt like it was a risk and a sacrifice he would have to make.

he was almost to the ground now, the images of the heroine and the stranger were clear now. Concentrating his efforts, he began to slow his descent, the force of the wind on his body easing up until eventually, he was gently floating to the ground.

Instead of landing, however, he stopped himself, three or four foot from the ground, and hovered there his arms folded, watching the scene take place before him; and an odd scene it was. Not that it wasn't a heroic feat it simply felt so... comedic? This brave heroine, standing defiantly against a young sitting on the side walk eating a snack.

"Was it you who fired those gun shots?" he asked the boy an eyebrow raised.

Zack raised an eyebrow at the appearance of this newcomer. "Drop the jerky?" He asked, his mouth full of food. "But it's so yummy!" He stuffed another handful of jerky into his mouth, obviously enjoying his snack. "So, then girly, what's the use of putting my hands up, eh? Then we both look stupid and I can't eat my jerky." Having finished his bag, he opened another. "And who are you to call me a thief? Would you rather I starved? Not like there's many openings for a psycho. The last job I had? Didn't turn out so well..." He chuckled. "Good times..." Looking at Paladin, he chuckled. "And what can you do, princess? Perhaps you can bake us all a wonderful cake! Hah! To answer your question, I've never fired a bullet. I only pull triggers." He grinned, a savage light glittering in his eyes. "Lots and lots of triggers." He reclined, leaning back on one hand, reaching into a bag and pulling out another handful of jerky. "So," He continued, his mouth once again full, "unless you two want some jerky I'd suggest you leave. If you want, you can dance with the shirt, just watch he doesn't step on your toes. It's really annoying and I suspect he didn't learn his lesson."

Simca raised her eyebrow. What was this guy some sort of psychopath? Well, he later confirmed it. Reminded him of that Weinerpixieboots guy she had dealt with a few days ago with Krious. Honestly, Simca cursed the fact that there wasn't something like Arkham Asylum here in Jump City. It was a playground for villains like him; he would have had more fun there!

Uh... right. Simca's eyes narrowed. She resisted the urge to laugh when he called the rude spy-person who had popped up out of nowhere and was spying on her home 'princess', but she was more focused on the fact that he was not dropping the jerky!

"I'll take that, thank you," she said, snatching the jerky bag away from him while his mouth was still full.

'Hm...' he thought, 'something's fishy about this.'

The name princess was annoying, yes, but it would take more than that for Paladin to lose his head. He once again analysed the young man. He seemed all too calm, all too confident. He was aware of the gunshots, and to some capacity, admitted that he fired the shots.

The way he talked was added to this list. He seemed to hold a violent nature, at least, that's what Paladin could gather. The last part of his comment seemed out of place though. He looked down the street. Sure enough, there was something in the middle of the road.

Decisively, he left the Gypsy Dancer to her own devices for the moment, and flew to whatever was lying on the ground, landing on the ground and kneeling down to investigate it. Sure enough, it was a shirt, with three holes in it. Lifting it up, he found that the bullets had left their mark on the concrete.

'he shot a shirt...' he thought, pausing slightly before he continued, unable to comprehend how odd that sounded 'possible psychosis, but may be aware of it. Either that or the shirt may have triggered an unpleasant memory, but considering the random nature of the style industry, that's incredebly unlikely. Proceed with extreme caution.'

He stood and turned back to face the other two, this time walking back. The way this young man was acting, it was strange. He was overly familiar with the concept of super-humans, enough to be confident in the face of two superheroes. This could be because he was slightly detached from reality, but that may have been an act. In any case, he would have to watch himself, and make sure the young woman knew that she would have to do the same.

Zack scowled at the woman before him for a moment before shrugging. "Did you know..." he began, speaking as if to a child. "That there are these magical things that make people nicer to you? They're called manners." He grinned as he pulled out another bag, opened it, and continued eating, speaking once more with his mouth full. "If you wanted some jerky, girly, all's you had to do was ask." He watched Paliden walk over, pick up the shirt, then drop it. "Oi, princess! You gonna dance with 'im, or play hard to get all night, eh? Don't tease the poor guy, he's had a rough night." He streached, climbing to his feet. For some reason, he seemed to struggle to do so as if weighed down by something. "Right, so who's up for something fun, eh? Long as we stay away from an orphanage. The last time I went near an orphanage, it attacked me. That didn't end well..." he stared blankly at nothing for a long moment muttering "not well at all..." before snapping back to reality. "Righto, who wants to be the lookout?"

Simca had a face on akin to puking as the insane person went on and on about her not having manners and she should have asked for the jerky. Grinding her teeth in her annoyance, she promptly reached out and snatched the second bag of jerky as well and threw it back behind her head at Paladin to catch.

"You," she pointed at Silent Night, her finger coming to rest on his forehead as he stood up and asked for something fun to do. "Are coming with me to a little doctor's place. Got it?"

Curiousity bled into mild concern the closer Paladin got to the two. This gypsy girl was so calm before, so level headed. Now, her body language, her speech, her facial expressions, as every second passed, he could see that this young woman was starting to lose her cool. The 'nutjob' on the other hand hadn't changed much since the begining of the encounter, bar, maybe, seeming a little more sinister now than he was before.

Was he trying to antagonise them? Was it an unfortunate side-effect to his delluded nature? Is he just a jerk?

If anything, Paladin hoped for the latter of the three, but expected the former, and because of this, he began to wonder if this little shoplifter had something devious up his sleeves...

The bag of jerky made a swift and obvious crunch as the magic user caught it. Looking at it closely, an impulsive thought of it being the reason for the stranger's possible psychosis was quickly debunked, and Paladin tossed the snack food over his shoulder.

"You," Simca pointed at Silent Night, her finger coming to rest on his forehead as he stood up and asked for something fun to do, "are coming with me to a little doctor's place. Got it?"

"Easy," Paladin began stopping a short distance behind and to the right of the gypsy dancer, "something tells me he's more dangerous and cunning than he looks."