Headhunting The Headless

ooc:// This is the official roleplay that spawned from this thread: Black Valkyrie: Anyone up for a hunt? If you're still interested in joining, send me a PM rather than posting on that topic; it will garner a faster response.

The Setting: Jump City Police Department, the Deputy Inspector's Office. Early morning.
The Situation: A JCPD has enlisted four volunteers for a "specifically-tailoured" operation after a vigilante crossed the line from crime-fighting to crime-doing.
The Mood: What If We Could?

Characters Appearing:
• [NPC] Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez (played by Honest)
•The Spectre (played by Goddess)
•Whoop-Ant (played by AJ)
•Beetle Knight (played by Mekasoundwave)
•Synthosis (played by Moon772).
•Red Riding Hood (played by Willow Hood)
• and later, Black Valkyrie (also played by Honest)

bic://
The office was nothing special, but the theatrically dim lighting, oversized wooden desk with a green-shaded table lamp, and pair of fold-up chairs, and the musty smell of damp oak and smoldering cigarettes made bad-cop-good-cop movies look cheesy in comparison. This section of the Jump City Police Department building might as well have been stuck in the dark, dank, disgusting alleyway parallel to it for all that many in the police force cared; this was the room that proved time and time again the futility of “mere humans’ brute force” against the, well... inhuman. Nevertheless, one cop had mustered the courage to not only seek “volunteers” for cases specifically entailing metahumans, but also took on the doomed job knowing full-well that he would get a lot of bull crap from his colleagues. There was the relatively high chance that he’d get tagged and mugged––maybe even killed––by one of the metahumans he was aiming to track down, too.

But someone had to do it, and Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez happened to be the one.

Deputy Inspector Gonzalez was a relatively average-sized man in both height and weight––about five-feet seven-inches, one-hundred forty pounds (give or take a few)––he was in his mid-thirties, had a wife and two kids, a decent-sized house, and even a slobbering dog. Nothing was special about him... he was actually pretty stereotypical... and that made his position even more ironic. Some days, he would encounter tall, gaunt figures with skin the colour of ash, or children who could spout fire from their limbs, sometimes even a couple of shape-shifters, weather controllers, winged beings, animal-human hybrids... hell, even aliens. He felt kinda insignificant in comparison, yet the fact that he could hold his own amongst this city of super-beings was significant in and of itself. It pained him to fulfill his public duty to ensure the safety of normal citizens whenever someone got spooked by one, or intimidated, or just plain freaked out by an obviously not-of-this-world individual walking down their street, perusing a playground, or harmlessly purchasing a hot dog from a street vendor. Although metahumans were becoming more and more common than they already had been in Jump City, there was always a tension... always a heightened paranoia... always an instinct to become the superior being in every walk of life, in every situation, in every span of time where looks of ominous foreboding or uneasy body language occurred.

Today, after receiving numerous complaints of “public disturbance” in the most ungodly hours of the night, was no exception for Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez.

He had called for metahuman volunteers through “special connections” to track, locate, investigate, and maybe even apprehend yet another inhuman threat to this bustling, packed, prosperous place everyone knows as Jump City. Now, it’s common knowledge that the Teen Titans are Jump’s “christened heroes,” but they are––despite their fame and credentials––not the right fit for every single unpromising situation. Besides, that motley crew has enough on their hands with alleged scandals and dirty justice, unclear values, muddied morals, and other things of pretentiously infamous nature. Deputy Inspector Gonzalez needed someone else––someone low-radar, someone he might be able to rely on––and he believed fully that there was at least one of that ideal type of hero in the four that had contacted him in one way or another stating their stance of willingness to help. The policeman hadn’t been too specific about just what exactly they were up against, just the basics: there was a budding vigilante on the loose, known to ride a silent, sleek black motorcycle that could be turned invisible, don various and quite ostentatious motorbike helmets, specialise in staying incognito while leaving a trail of tied-up miscreants and other evildoers, and someone who sometimes even went so far as to delivering them like postal packages on the steps of the JCPD headquarters. Other than that, this strange character might as well have been categorised as a myth or urban legend when the next factor came into place: this metahuman was allegedly headless. Yes, headless, like the Headless Horseman character in “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” only without a pumpkin as a poor replacement head and a billowing black steed to terrorise the calm night with. Before last night, Deputy Inspector Gonzalez had brushed aside these rumours... that is, until he found himself staring face-to-face (or rather, face to helmet) with the real deal, the real “Headless Rider.”

All he was doing when it happened was locking his office and heading home, mundanely shuffling down the steps of JCPD to find five mid-class thugs bound, tied, and gagged in a heap at his feet. If it weren’t for one’s grunting, he would have stepped on them and found out that way. Set aside in a neat pile were over twenty pounds of weed and all other sorts of cannabis. There were also five basic pistols, three switchblades, a cocaine pipe, some sort of makeshift shiv, and even a bundle of cash. Whoever had left them there had done one hell of a job... actually, too well of a job; Four out of five thugs were knocked out cold, all had severely bloodied faces, a couple had extensively cracked ribs, and––later revealed by medical tests––one even had internal bleeding.

That was what drew the line for Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez. He didn’t care if whoever dumped this bad guys alleviated a bit of the crime syndicate; he or she (the gender of this “Headless Rider” had yet to be determined) had just turned as bad as any other criminal. It had crossed the already-questionable affiliation of vigilanteism and progressed to full-blown felon. Hell, even the Batman didn’t leave his personal trash in this bad of a condition. The medical expenses of fixing up these guys exceeded the amount of money needed to deploy a troop of police officers, not to mention the obvious: no-one liked giving life back to those who took the lives of others.

Almost a second before the Deputy Inspector had radioed in the situation and had lit a cigarette to calm his nerves, he was overcome by an uneasy, prickly sensation that scraped at the back of his neck and crawled across his spine––the same kind of feeling you get when you know something bad is going to happen. At first, he told himself it was just a trick of the sleep-deprived mind. And yet... and yet, there was nothing such as being too careful when your job was to be careful. With boyish curiosity and uncanny fascination, Gonzalez turned about-face and swallowed hard. Then, his cigarette had been plucked clean from his fingers and stamped out. A previously invisible figure had appeared before him. His heart was racing. And before he knew it, there was a helmet staring right at him. He couldn’t recall the design or colour––it was much too dark, not to mention he only saw it for a mere ten seconds––although he wish he could have. Ten seconds had passed by: just ten seconds. Five more, and a synthetic but strangely... human voice addressed the police man directly, hitting nerves and leaving more questions than answers to the true identity of whoever or whatever this metahuman was:

“ Cigarettes kill you... slowly. I don’t usually get all preachy, but you’re inhaling the same toxins found in rat poison, household cleaners, lighter fluid, and the same stuff used to preserve dead specimens. You’re smarter than that, Inspector Gonzalez, and your wife still thinks you’ve quit. I hope to leave a tidier batch next time––of thugs, I mean. Sorry for the mess. Oh, and one more thing: trying to track me is ridiculous and a sign of a coward. I’m one of the good guys. I just happen to come off as one of the bad ones. ”

It’s 8:55 A.M. the next day. Gonzalez hadn’t even lit up his habitual morning smoke, nor had that paranormal gaze from behind darkened, full-face plexiglass visor. At least, what felt like a gaze...

Anyway. Five minutes remaining until the time he had specified the four metahumans to arrive at, his watch read. Five more minutes until an ordinary, human cop met with a bunch of unordinary, super-powered beings.

A typical day in the life of Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez. His only regret was not telling his wife that he hadn’t stopped smoking.

Samuel Malcolm had woken up a lot earlier than usual this morning. Well, earlier than usual for a non school day. On weekends and holidays he wouldn't have thought of waking up until at least....10, 11-ish. But today was different. Today was special. He had an appointment with the Police. Through whatever means, contact had been established betwen himself in the JCPD about all the metahuman activity in the city. It seemed like they had a plan. And while Sam technically wasn't a metahuman, he felt he should give the outmatched boys in blue a helping hand anyways.

His blue motorcycle had pulled up infront of the JCPD HQ at about 8:50, according to his watch. He killed the engine and flipped the kick stand down, stepping off the bike and removing his helmet as he walked inside. Approaching the front desk, he inquired about a Mr. Hugo Gonzalez, who he was told to meet with for this project. Sam was given the direction to the Deputy Inspector's office and made his way through the station toward it.

Sam knocked on Gonzalez's door, figuring it would pay to be poite to the police. He wondered just how suprised the officer would be at one of the volunteers being what seemed to be a regular teenager. Then again, the Inspector probablly knew at this point that appearances could be decieving...

Guilt stayed in silence until the first "hero" introduced himself with his own act of heroism: just breaking the silence with a knock. A polite gesture, too, something Deputy Inspector Gonzalez didn't gather much of during his work as a "metahuman-affiliated" police officer. He couldn't remember the last time someone didn't phase in, waltz in, or pop up from one of the window sills---wait, no. Someone had just gone and done the last one. An... insectoid sort of kid, Gonzalez gathered, and that's all that really mattered; powers, past, or position became inquiries he knew not to question about. Too many answers, too messy, too... well, superfluous. That, and not prodding about someone's personal life was as impolite as it could get. Speaking of polite. There had been a knock at the door and a shout at the window. The least the Deputy Inspector could do was answer.

The man looked at the insectoid-ish kid... wait, no, Gonzalez observed, it's some type of armour, not his genetic make-up... made clear eye contact, and held up his index finger in a "wait one moment" gesture. First things first, the first to arrive was whoever was at the door right now. And, as the Deputy Inspector opened it, was a regular-looking kid (everyone who wasn't over forty was a 'kid' to Hugo Gonzalez, who had enough years on him training wise to make him an old man despite his true age) with black hair and green eyes and an air of relaxed calm and co-ordination, but the Deputy Inspector could already tell that he was excited, that there was a spark of fresh life in his eyes.

"Hello!" Gonzalez greeted cheerily, admittedly grateful to be among a companion who---at the very least--looked human, as did he, "you must be one of the four who acccepted my distress signal. Thank you for coming, please take a seat if you'd like, or hover, or grow a tree stump for a resting aide, or anything else that's extraordinary and obviously something I can't offer," he gave a half-hearted laugh, shook the young man' s hand, and continued, "I'm Hugo Gonzalez--spare me the overbearing title on my plaquard, will yeh? It's nice to meet you, ehm..." he just realised he didn't even know the names of the four he had managed to recruit, something he'd later take to heart when facing shadier and trickier folk than this 'Black Valkyrie' character, "...what do you like to be called? I understand undercover identities and all that, so don't bother worrying about what name to give me. I really don't mind."

On the thought of "mind", Gonzalez also realised his had gone a little too far off-track and had, therefore, completely forgotten about the kid in the window. "Oh, right. The window lurker," was what came from his mouth as the rest of his body carried him to the source of the break in normality. "I really need to get myself a cup of joe. Do you drink coffee, kid?" Gonzalez asked across the room, back at the young man who knocked, then opened the window. "Hey hey hey, come on in! Your placement on this building seems pretty fitting to your costume, although... you're obviously not a spider-dude, and I can't think of any ant species that can scale walls quite like you. The name's Gonzalez, thanks for coming, it's nice to meet you, and what name would you like to be known by? While you mull it over, go ahead and take a seat or make yourself comfortable in some other manner; I'm expecting two more fine friends now that the two of yeh are here."

This whole endavour with the Headless Rider, dead or dying thugs, and the spontaneous sending of a distress signal to strangers of a 'superior genus' was starting to seem not so bad an ordeal as Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez had originally imagined it to be. Hopefully, the remaining two individuals wouldn't either phase in, enter via window, or announce themselves with a flourish of trumpet fanfare. It would also be nice, now that Gonzalez really pondered it, if there weren't to be any robotic-type metahumans coming in, because robotic-types just made him nervous; it was like having a walking weapons arsenal troop into your dinky little office. But with karma and fate and jinxing being something that scare left the Deputy Inspector alone. Next thing he knew, there would be a telepath coming in, too, or an alien from outer space.

That would be one heck of a way to start out my pow-wow, the man thought, I just hope I can keep up my happy face and don't come off as a complete dufus!

Sam walked in as the Inspector opened the door for him, giving him a nod before taking a seat. Looking out the window at the sound of the knock, Sam could see he wasn't gonna be alone in this. As Hugo opened the window for Whoop-Ant, Sam responded to his Coffee question.

"Coffee? Yeah, I could go for some, I guess. You got sugar and cream? And the name's Sam, by the way."

Hugo had brought another subject to light before Sam made his answer, and that got him to thinking. They got four people for this? Sam had thought the JCPD must have been desperate enough to ask just ONE hero for help. How bad must things be for four to be needed? Before he could think more into that, Whoop-Ant was asking him a question.

"Hmm? Oh, talent? Well," Sam said, taking a pause for a moment. "At the risk of sounding supicious, I'd rather not tell. Plus, trust me, you'll know what it is when you see it."

Sam gave a chuckle. He knew something Whoop-Ant didn't: that half of this team seemed to be insects. All they needed was the other two guys to have Mantis or Butterfly motif and they'd have their own team all set up!

Moon woke up, looked at the clock, and went into panic mode. it was about 9:30 and she got called for a "special" mission earlier. Her hair was straight but was parted funny. She ran to her Marriott, threw her hair into a high pony tail (which didn't really help the long length problem),put on some eye liner and lip gloss, then had some casual clothes strapped to her body.

She ran out the door and took off in flight, cape/hood flapping in the wind. She then stopped at the JCPD HQ, she adjusted her hair to make herself look decent in front of the law in enforcement. She walked in the front door and smiled at a few of the passing by people. She was then directed to an office with the name Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez in printed on it. She knocked, and stood there, silent, feeling a brush of awkward run through her veins.

ooc:// I was originally going to wait a little longer to see if Goddess or Willow Hood replied, but this stagnation has gone on too long. I also apologise that my posts are pretty lengthy, but I'm just trying to get a firm foundation on what this roleplay is all about. When I start posting as Black Valkyrie, they'll be shorter. Promise!

bic:// The Deputy Inspector nodded at the black-haired young man, crossed the room to a mundane grey filing cabinet, retrieved two cans of “Insta-Coffee!” that bore the tagline “It’s just like coffee, only it’s instant!!!”, and watched in fascination as Whoop-Ant literally climbed through the window and take a seat... he was quite the lively fellow. After that, he tossed the can to Sam with a look of slight embarrassment.

“Sorry we don’t have real coffee, but the budget’s tight and so are the chances of getting enough money to expend on bad coffee. Hope you don’t mind...” then turned to the two who were present and continued, “so, you’re Whoop-Ant, and you’re Sam. Now, I guess while we wait for the others to arri––” but he was cut off at the entry of a new arrival: who had knocked, but the door had already been a little ajar so it swung open and cast a light breeze through the room and kind of put that point to moot.


“Well, speaking of ‘others...’ welcome, welcome to our little party!” As a man taught early from his childhood to be a gentleman, Mr. Gonzalez motioned to his own chair for her to sit in, “Go ahead and take my seat. I’m Officer Gonzalez, and I was getting acquainted with Sam and Whoop-Ant over here before you came. With your arrival, that makes three out of four volunteers... well––now that I come to think of it––I asked one of the interns to send out an extra invitation to solve this bothersome caper... kind of forgot about that, but it has been a long night...” his voice trailed off for a bit, but there wasn’t much of a silence with Whoop-Ant’s own vivacious welcome. The Deputy Inspector smiled at this nostalgic greeting of two younger persons meeting for the first time. He cast a glance at Sam and winked.

“Well,” he started with an air of authority, “you may be wondering what I brought you here for, not to mention so many metahumans for a seemingly small little favour. But if you’d humor me...” Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez sighed and rubbed his temples as if dreading what he was to say next. “I ran into the Headless Rider last night. If you haven’t heard, this ‘Headless Rider’ character has become quite the impressionable urban legend who stalks the night and takes down criminals without a sound and with, erm... what you could call ‘unnecessary roughness.” the boiling image of the bloodied and bang-up faces of the tied-up criminals he had encountered last night came to mind, “you see, last night the Headless Rider dropped off a batch of druggies on our Department’s steps like a pastry chef dropping off a dozen donuts! They were all in critical condition, yet were still somehow alive, In addition, they had been tied-up and restrained, and even came with a separate pile of high-class designer drugs and a bunch of guns that had been unloaded which we later deduced to belong to them. For the past three weeks, ‘deliveries’ of these sorts have frequented the streets of Jump and Steel City alike, sometimes even two or three times a night, and in numbers that a well-trained SWAT team would be expected to take down. A couple of nights ago, there was a report of twenty identified members of the gang ‘Skull Saders’ racked up against bus stop bench, but about half of them were unconscious unlike the five that arrived last night. What I’m assuming was as a frenzied attempt to free themselves, several of the Skull Saders somehow ended up beating each other... to death... with their bare hands.. and obviously out of some psychological meltdown. One of the survivors described their attacker as a floating motorcycle helmet that seemed to bore into the back of their minds despite its lack of eyes to bore. Another babbled on about a creature that suddenly appeared out of the shadows, blew through the crowd, and individually began taking out members within a matter of seconds. Now, this could have been the effect of the god-knows-what amount of crystal meth they had on them, but usually meth doesn’t act like its own physical being and does what that punk claims to have been done to him and his little cohorts. We at JCPD have been teaming up with Steel City PD, but it seems that the more we try to uncover about this helmeted vigilante, the darker and more unreliable our knowledge becomes. To date, the ‘Headless Rider’ has been accredited for fifty-six captured criminals ranging from petty thieves to pretty well-know drug ring bosses, the uncovering of over nine-hundred and sixty ounces––that’s sixty pounds––of various narcotics and other illegal substances, and the seizure of what can only be described as guns, knives, and other manners of weaponry that number in numbers too high to count. In addition, twelve of the fifty-six captured criminals have died from extensive injuries including those who had been beaten to death by their own kind in the Skull Sader fiasco. In short, this vigilante has accounted for more trouble than they have purged. We cannot have any more killings take place, and we certainly cannot justify them as ‘justice by law.’ Whoever this urban legend is, they need to be apprehended and tried for their own crimes. That is where you three come in, and hopefully the rest I have contacted. I’m counting on you, and I’ll admit that both JCPD and SCPD sure as hell need the help. Unfortunately, the only leads as to where this individual might be is that they were an assortment of custom-made motorcycle helmets to accompany an allegedly ‘ghost-like’ motorcycle, and by the few physical descriptions, the Headless Rider is most likely a female in her early twenties, extremely fit, and has seemingly inhuman speed, strength, and accuracy. She has last been spotted near an old hotel that’s known as ‘The Nest.’”

Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez breathed in deeply, closed his eyes, then stared directly at the three metahumans.

“...where a young superhero known as ‘Mr. Pacific’ has been recently murdered. That’s all we’ve got. I hope it’s enough.”

Moon walked in and sat down awkwardly in the leather chair making a sound when her clothes rubbed against it. " Hello." Moon greeted the other men with a smile. The man began to talk, She listened to everyone word that came out of the his mouth with complete understanding. Her silver eyes we're big and suddenly, they were full of pity, despair, and complete sadness.

This "Headless Rider" has been around the Nest? Why hasn't Moon noticed her, and Mr. Pacific, dead. " Mr. Pacific! Why didn't I hear the news! Why didn't any one tell me!" Moon protested, she was finally getting to know her boss as a close friend, he dies and no one tells her! Now this so called "Headless Rider" hangs around with out her knowing. This person must have done it! She must have caused Mr. Pacific's death.

Moon's heart dropped, this was horrible! She hadn't seen Mr.Pacific around lately but he's always out on a special mission. I bet you he was called in before us to stop this "Headless Rider" and she got to him.

She now had to find this Rider and seal her in jail, where she belongs. Not for revenge, not even for vengeance for Mr. Pacific, but for the crime she pursued and the time she must pay. Moon was sure she was led to this planet for something, to save the weak.

ooc:// These delays are getting ridiculous. I'll try my best to move this along but make sure (in a reasonable fashion) that others get their posts in, too. I'll follow the general rule here at TTRPG for polite turn-taking and say that if a reply isn't given in three days, we'll just move on. I hope we don't have to do that, though... that would be a pesky little bastard to deal with!

bic://
“Miss,” Gonzalez addressed the white-haired girl formerly, “I'm sorry that you had to hear the news from me and not someone who's more... familiar to you, but the fact that you hadn't been told this news until now makes me even more uneasy about this 'Headless Rider.' However and on the contrary...” he paused stroked his chin-- just like in the movies, with deep consideration--then continued: “to answer your inquiry, Whoop-Ant, I don't think that the Headless Rider is responsible for the murder of Mr. Pacific; even though I had little to work with on his identity, I've gleamed that Mr. Pacific was no criminal. Also, it's uncharacteristic for this shadowy vigilante to murder someone who strives to purge crime—especially when he does it within the boundaries of the law—and in broad daylight, too.”

The friction that sparked from Mr. Gonzalez's words was beginning to become more evident as he swiveled his head in the direction of Whoop-Ant. Human eyes met meta-human eyes. A man looked intently into a young man's soul, almost like a father about to scold his child.

“I have not called in meta-humans because they are meta-humans, nor have I called in meta-humans because the Headless Rider may or not be one, too. The only difference between you and me—an average person and an advanced person—are the abilities available we have to work with. I understand how you came upon this conclusion and I take no offense. The real reason that you are here and not my underlings is because I trust no one. The stereotypical assumption for Jump City cops is that we're all a bunch of corrupted, greedy men who can't do their jobs. That, I can attest, is true with more than ninety percent of the individuals enlisted in this force. My high-hope when it comes to working with meta-humans is the possibility of being proved wrong not only about my colleagues, but about how bad the scum out there really is. As you know and are examples yourselves, there are many meta-humans who have taken their powers and used them to purge evil. Unfortunately, that has created an opportunity for the rest of us humans to slack off and believe that your people will take care of everything. We could never be more wrong.”

With that, Mr. Deputy Inspector Hugo Gonzalez shoved his hand into his pant pocket and pulled out a packet of Marlboro cigarettes and a lighter, then lit one of those death lures.

“Besides,” he said in a contrastingly casual and content tone, “you don't think that I'm going to sit this one out, do you? H-ll, maybe this not-so urban legend could demonstrate some of her crime-fighting, -ss kicking moves for an aging fart like me!” of course, he was joking, “now wouldn't that be something, eh? I say we leave in five, if that sounds good to you. Maybe we could stop by a Starbucks on the way and get a real cup of joe. My treat.”

((OOC: Hey, I'm back from Japan now, yay! Now this can get more on track! Coincidentally, canned iced coffee is really popular in Japan. It's pretty good, too.))

Sam caught the can of coffee, shrugging as Hugo explained the roadblocks keeping them from real coffee. If public school taught him anything, it was that budget cuts were a pain. He opened the can and started drinking. It wasn't too bad, but the Deputy Inspector was probably right, real coffee would have been better.

Sam kept quiet as Hugo explained the situation. Rumored metahuman, vigilante justice to eleven, a whole lot of drugs, murdered hero. As Whoop-Ant and Moon voiced their thoughts on the matter, Sam thought this whole thing over in his head. It was an interesting scenario, indeed. The fact that the vigilante was a Rider particularly intrigued him.

Sam finished his can of coffee and pulled the tab off, putting in his pocket as he stood and tossed the can in the garbage. He started to walk to the door, clearly having heard all he needed.

"I'll go ahead and head out first," Sam said, thinking up a new strategy. "I can get there on my bike pretty quickly. And if I get to the Rider first, I'll get the jump on her, and then you guys will have the element of suprise on your side. I doubt she'd be expecting a whole little squad of metas to come after her...but she might expect just one. "

Sam didn't elaborate further, but he had his own suprise in mind for the Rider. He also didn't mention another reason for him leaving early: she sounded like a challenge and he wanted to test himself. But that wasn't really team behavior, so he didn't say that. He opened the door and started to walk out and head back to his motorcycle.

ooc:// OKAY. GOTTA SAY SOMETHING.

I'm beginning to doubt the progression of this roleplay due to the fact that The Spectre, Red Riding Hood, and Synthosis haven't replied for some good time, with Red Hood not appearing since the 12th of July. It's frustrating to me, as I'm sure it is to ye who art participating, but the fact is that––even though I don't doubt your roleplaying skills, Meka and AJ––I can't see this going anywhere. I suggest we take a vote on whether or not we should/want to continue this roleplay. I'm very, very sorry to have started a roleplay, got a little bit into it, and then propose calling it off, but I'd rather have us decide now before we get further into the plot.

For me, I regrettably vote "nay." How about you guys?