The First Step: Moving In

The First Step: Moving In

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Cast:

Stage:

Plot:

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Somewhere in Steel City's west side there lies your typical abandoned factory. It had become outdated and obsolete a long time ago, along side most of Old Steel. Its last owner had given up on the idea of selling the land to anyone, and its original records have become lost and forgotten. Due to the complete lack of upkeep, countless hazards and zoning violations have piled up. No one has responded to the many warning letters sent out. No one complained when the local government seized the land and began offering it up at dirt cheap prices in an effort to attract new business and stimulate the local economy.

Despite those dirt cheap prices the factory remained unowned and abandoned for many years. The reason being? It has become the nesting ground and popular hang out for a rather large group of punks and shady characters. If you were one of them, you'd know that of all the punks who gather here, the ones you don't mess with are those who wear hockey masks. They are part of one of the largest gangs in the entire city, the Skull Saders gang. The members who hang out here run the place and you better respect. There are often many members of the Skull Saders hanging around, throwing their weight around, showing off to the trash that have made this abandoned factory their personal night club.

For a business man to see this place and see opportunity, he'd have to be a mad man. Or a genius.
Perhaps it would take a mad genius?

Men in masks are not a strange site at this place, but this one wasn't wearing a hockey mask. It was a light blue mask that was sculpted to mimic a generic human male's face. It had tear streams and a laughing smile painted onto it in varying shades of blue.

The man wearing this odd mask stepped forward among the crowd of punks and gang bangers. Someone was blasting their music in the background, making everyone listen to it regardless of their tastes. It didn't much matter though. Even if you hated this genre of music, if you kept an open mind you'd be able to say it had a good beat at the very least.

No one paid much attention to the man dressed in blue, with an odd mask. Guys and gals alike were wandering here and there. Some where dancing, others were sitting around makeshift fires laughing or complaining about something or other. Many were gathered around men in hockey masks, listening to them brag or watching them show off. As odd as the newcomer looked, he seemed to fit in enough with this crowd... for a few seconds. Of course, it didn't last long. A group of three thug looking types approached him, all of them wearing hockey masks and carrying the sticks.

“Nice masks,” The newcomer greeted them.

“Wish I could say the same,” One of them shot back.

“We only allow one kind of mask around here,” another one started.

“'n that ugly piece of garbage 'aint it,” the third one finished.

“That so...? Guess I'll just have to... change the rules,” The newcomer said with a shrug.

“Who do you think you are?” One of them called out, slamming his stick into the ground with a loud smack, causing a small crowd to form around them. Somewhere, the music had stopped playing, and a hush had fallen amongst the peanut gallery. The Skull Sader stormed straight up to the newcomer to be uncomfortably close. Their masks were practically making out, but neither of them flinched as they glared at each other.

“To those who go the way, he who has strayed from the path shall be known as... The Lost,” The man in the strange mask recited in response.

“The hell?” The Skull Sader impatiently called out.

“To he who has strayed, he has simply forged a... New Path,” as soon as The Lost had said that, several of the young punks in the crowd pulled out lead pipes, bats, chains, and other similar weapons. These men belonged to The Lost's group the New Path and they used these weapons to beat down the Skull Saders who had gathered among the immediate area. As the fighting broke out, those who neither belonged to New Path or the Skull Saders began to scream and scatter.

“W-ha-?!” The Skull Sader who had approached The Lost directly was distracted by the the chaos that had erupted all around him. Usually it was him who enticed that kind of thing, but he hadn't done anything yet.

Lost saw this opportunity, and mercilessly took it. He reared his head back and bent backwards at the waist until he was at an extreme angle. With his powerful ab muscles, he brought himself back towards the Skull Sader with a fierce headbutt. His strange mask crashed through the cheap hockey mask, and into the Skull Sader's face, sending cracked pieces of plastic and blood outwards.

He stumbled back. The Lost advanced.

It started at the toes.

He pushed off the ground with his right foot, taking a step forward with his left and firmly planting it to catch his weight. That was the first step. The first step into the Skull Sader's territory, claiming it as his own. He twisted at the waist and continued turning with his upper torso, throwing his right shoulder forward. His left arm pulled back, and his head leaned forward, adding even more momentum and force. His right shoulder carried his right arm forward and his arm extended fully. All of this happened together, in one swift movement that involved the entire body, with in a split instant, and all with the purpose of sending his right fist into the face of the Skull Sader. This right straight exploded outwards and landed with a devastating impact on the already disoriented man.

The next thing he knew he was on the ground, being trampled by the panicked crowd. He cried out in pain, but his voice was drowned out by the chorus of cries and screams already ringing out. By now, the many other Skull Saders in the factory were aware of the panic, and had began to gather together.

The situation was unfolding just as The Lost had imagined it would. The New Path was a rather small group, one that he barely had control over even with all of the influence he had been exerting over them. His members didn't even have quality to make up for the lack of quantity.

They were untrained brawlers at best. Posers at worst. Though, its not like he could be picky.

To take on the Skull Saders with only these kinds of reinforcements, few could pull it off.

However, a true strategist can set up favorable conditions.

The Skull Saders are in mass number everywhere in the city. You do not lose much by attacking a popular hangout. You're way out numbered, but that's true any place you attack them. Here there were many third party punks and wannabes who were creating chaos as they flee or get caught up in the fighting. Additionally, by dressing his New Path members to look like the crowd, they practically became invisible to the enemy.

The Skull Saders became desperate, unable to see who was attacking their friends. They began lashing out into the crowd indiscriminately. Most of them didn't care who got in the way, as long as the enemy gang was among them. Of course this meant a lot of the crowd was fighting back to defend themselves from the gang they had been idolizing a few minutes ago. In this way The Lost had recruited them indirectly, increasing his military forces.

Take out a target.

Conceal your weapon.

Blend in with the panicked crowd.

Keep an eye on your allies. You should remember their specific looks.

Stay together as a group, and look out for one another.

Stay away from heroes.

The orders he gave to the New Path were so simple, even these fools had to be able to understand. Still, it didn't mean that his group was completely untouched. As the Skulls were attacking anyone at this ponit, it was only obvious that some New Path members would be taken out.

That last order he gave them was important, as heroes actually began to show up. Or at least people he assumed to be heros. The first seemed to have some kind of ranged weapon, but he couldn't see its affects amongst the chaos of the crowd. She also seemed to have no hesitations about jumping into the fray solo. A second hero arrived. She looked like an angel and flew into the factory, perhaps taking care of snipers. Thankfully, they did not approach them specifically, but if they did he had also prepared contingencies for that scenario.

Skull Saders had come out from the woodwork, encircling the crowd trying to get to whoever had done this, but this too was as The Lost had planned. It was not a proper encirclement formation from an order. It was just the way things turned out as more Skull Saders arrived onto the scene from all directions. This was deep in enemy territory, after all.

Thus, the encirclement was full of holes. The Lost quickly surveyed the situation, and began to give the signal for his group members to follow him. They hid they weapons and ran with him. They looked like most of the flee crowd at this point. The Skull Saders let most of them get away, dealing with the crowd that was fighting back. A few New Path members did get taken down or got lost in the crowd, but they were acceptable loses.

The Lost and his surviving followers managed to break the weak encirclement with relative ease, while at the same time putting distance between his group and the heroes. This also effectively put his position behind enemy lines, where it was a simple matter of returning to wreaking havoc.

OOC: Shadow, I read somewhere that you were busy with exams so I completely understand if you lost interest in this thread or just forgot about it. Don't worry about it. I had my own things to deal with as well, so waiting to post was not a problem for me.

I apologize to you Jak, for the wait. I know its a bit selfish, but I hope you will continue in this thread, despite what you're going through right now. If you want to jump back in at any time, Shadow, you're free to do so. The topic is still open to anyone who also wants to jump in, if it interests you. I still want to have fun with everyone, and want to continue posting in this thread and others with that goal in mind. So to move things along, I will be making another in character post.

IC:

The Lost and the surviving members of New Path that he had brought with him were striking at the Skull Saders from behind the focus of their roughly formed lines when suddenly large clouds of some kind of gas began to rise up from amidst the crowd.

'The police? No... they wouldn't show up... not this quickly at least,' The Lost thought to himself. He quickly deduced that it must have been one of those heroes.

“Rally!” He shouted out, though his voice was mostly drowned out my the crowd's panicked roar and the sound of gas spewing out of the containers scattered by the heroine. His voice was loud enough to attract the attention of his followers, so they could see the simple hand gesture he was performing. He held up his hand with his pointer finger out and quickly traced a small circle in the air.

The New Path members knew this meant to regroup around him, once more.

They checked to make sure the allies around them also noticed the signal, and alerted those who hadn't, before following The Lost as he retreated further from the battle. The gas encompassed most of the riot in the factory's courtyard, and members of the crowd who had been bravely fighting up until now, began to flee from the battle. However, most did not get far as they found themselves bound in place by the strange sticky solution.

The Lost came to a stop in an alley, across the street, where the courtyard could clearly be seen. He held up his arm again, this time making a fist with his hand. The group following him came to a stop around him, as The Lost turned back towards the gas cloud to further survey the situation. Could it have been a victory, so quickly? He began to cautiously move out into the street, back towards the factory as fleeing punks and gang members ran past him.

When the gas began to dissipate, The Lost was astonished to find that those who were left in the crowd were struggling in vain, trapped in a strange white substance.

The gas and this substance were both eye openers. He didn't believe he'd have to deal with this level of equipment right off the bat, but that just showed his inexperience. He made a mental note of having his mask upgraded with some kind of air filtration device, to deal with gas in the future. He also turned to one of his followers.

“Get a sample of that white stuff,” He ordered, the roar of the crowd having died down enough for him to be heard. The New Path member, a young girl hiding her face with a fox mask, scurried forward to do just that. Of course she didn't know how to 'take a sample' of it. She pulled out a knife and tried to cut it, but her knife became stuck in place. Her sleeves, which were too long for her, ended up getting caught in it as well and she began to struggle to free herself.

The Lost tried to see past the dissipating gas, to locate the hero interlopers as he leisurely strolled towards his struggling underling.

The Lost approached the girl in the fox mask and stripped her shirt off, freeing her as well as revealing the 'battle' undergarments she had choosen specifically for today. She let out a sharp yelp in protest and quickly covered her shame, but didn't offer any complaint much more than that. The Lost was already removing the long coat he was wearing and offered it to her. She gratefully accepted it before scurrying away to the back of the group.

After she was free and clothed, The Lost realized that by now most of those who were fleeing were long gone, making the only ones left those who followed The Lost and those who were trapped in the web. He was standing right in the open, with the New Path following him.

“Tch,” He sucked his teeth. “What an oversight...” He mumbled to himself. However, he kept his calm demeanor and prepared his resolve to use his hero stopping trump card.

(I'm sorry! Too much going on Dx)

Shadow didn't reply, just flapped her wings and blew away the smoke. She wasn't surprised to see the crowd struggling under Spider-Girl's web. She'd already known what was down there; the warehouse had plenty of shadows she could use to see with. What was surprising was the band of people led by a strange man in a mask. Shadow looked at Liz.

'Most of them, huh?'

She didn't wait for a reply, instead flaring her wings and landing deftly in front of The Lost.

Finally it happens. What The Lost perceives to be two superheros... or to be more accurate, super-heroines... approaches him. One is magnificent- beautiful, terrible, exciting, frightening, and all at once. She swoops down to grace him with her presence, like an angel ready to cast judgment. She definitely had style, but the one following close behind her was the first to arrive. Lost had seen what she could do first hand. He also noticed the spider insignia on her costume, and made the connection between the sticky white web like substance and her motif. Was she the one who did all of this? Then she was the one to thank.

His heart beat heavily, but any dread he owned, he quickly burned. His countenance is as calm and relaxed and betrays none of his anxiety, fear, or excitement. His golden hazel eyes stares out from behind his strange mask, focused directly at the Angel's eyes at first. After the angel came to a stop, his eyes wandered to search for the spider girl's eyes. Though he couldn't quite find hers, he looked to her unwavering and steadfast nonetheless. With his relaxed slouching posture he has to look up to the women coming down towards him, and so the smile painted on his mask begins to peek over the extended collar of his costume.

Whether the angel is a divine being or not, this is a moral realm and by setting foot in it even a god shall be subject to mortal powers.

No matter how beautifully or meticulously this spider girl crafts her web, she would never be able to snare The Lost.

The trump card Lost has prepared for this very occasion was proof of these things. He was honestly confident that it would work stop them both. Being so confident, he found it easy to maintain his poise. However the members of New Path did not share his composure. They shrank away from the two's approach. So confident in his little surprise, Lost paid little to no mind to his faltering flanks.

When both heroines had come to a stop before him, he slowly raised his hands and lazily clapped at a relaxed pace.

“Wonderful work, ladies. You have my gratitude, though I'd hate to clean up this mess myself,” he greeted them with a just twinge of an English accent in his voice, to replace his natural french accent. It didn't make much sense to wear a mask if everyone could tell who you were from your mannerisms and voice. He was completely confident in his acting abilities, and doubted they would second guess his performance. Though even if they did, it didn't much matter. They still would not hear his true voice. It was something he had come up with on a whim, all the while preparing for the opportunity to use his trump card. He wasn't in much of a hurry though. This was his first meeting with hero's in the city. It was a chance to gather valuable information.

The Lost watched as the spider girl landed with grace and poise. Though he had to look down at her due to the position she was in, he was thinking highly of her. She was quite skilled and that meant she could be useful. The small army of punks and thugs caught in the web like substance behind her, already told him that, though.

With her as a distraction, he didn't notice the shadow shackles form around his comrade's ankles even as some began to trip and fall over from having their legs bonded.

“That so? Perhaps they should 'ave came up with better schemes then?” he responded to the spider girl's good cop routine.

“As for starting things, I can assure you that the Skull Saders were the instigators in this wee mishap,” he said with a shrug. “Ah, but where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself,” he quickly added as if he had just realized.

Despite that, he followed it up with a line that he was clearly rehearsed and practiced.

“To those who own the way, he who has strayed from the path shall be known as... 'The Lost',” The emphasis he placed on the words 'The Lost' was to draw attention to it and single it out as his handle. Though it might have been lost on some. He gave a courteous bow and gestured to himself as he said his handle specifically, to help drive this point home.

“To he who has strayed, he has simply forged a New Path,” He continued with not much pause after the first line. This time he stressed the words 'New Path', and as he did he gestured to the people behind him, who by now must have seemed pitifully afraid.

With that he would wait with extreme patience and fortitude silencing the tightness in his chest. It was fear and anxiety that gripped at his heart, making each breath he took ring loudly in his ears. He knew that the longer he kept up this conversation the more at risk he would be. He would only finally be safe once he pulled out his secret weapon, and then there was always the chance that it would simply fail. If either of the heroines took him out before he could use it, then it'd all be over. It would truly be an ugly end it an otherwise seamless operation. Usually nothing goes exactly as planned, but things had gone so well today. That just added to his fears that things would all go wrong here. Still, he felt compelled to at least wait to hear their introductions. Maybe gather some useful information on the local heroes straight from the horse's mouth.

OOC:

Again, The Lost failed to notice the shadows. Until it was too late that is. He felt a strange unearthly grasp suddenly take hold of his ankles. It somehow felt like there was nothing there at all, and yet at the same time it felt as if there was. Like a chill that ran down your spine. He couldn't tell if it was real or just his imagination, but when he tried to move his legs he quickly found that he could not.

He almost fell over when the shadows first took hold, but managed to keep his balance.

Still he did not drop his act of confidence.

"Spider-Girl, a pleasure. Thank you very much for the compliment," He said with a flare of his hand. He was pretty proud of his acting ability, even though he knew she wasn't serious. He kept his confidence, even now that he and his forces had been captured. If things went along as they did, it would be the hero's victory. A gang riot would be quelled and another radical element put behind bars. That is how things would play out if The Lost couldn't do anything to turn the tables at this moment.

"Of course you're free to converse with whom ever you want, but perhaps this might give you some clarity on the subject at hand," The Lost continued as he reached behind himself. He had decided now at the verge of defeat, was the time to reveal the secret weapon he had prepared for just this situation. He was not aware of Spider-Girl's ability to sense danger, but his movements probably wouldn't trigger them anyway, because his next move wasn't going to hurt her at all.

He pulled out what he was reaching for and held it in plain view for all to see. It was just a few pieces of paper, neatly rolled up in his hand. He didn't hesitate and quickly unrolled it to show to the super-women. At first glance of the first paper, it would be obvious that it was a legal document. It would not take too much careful inspection of the paper to realize that it was a copy of a deed for this factory. It named a "Eth Tsol" as the official owner. The other documents he was holding held other various details pertaining to the factory and his recent purchase of it. All of the documents were in fact real and completely legal. Although the identity he had purchased the factory under was clearly an alias. Concerning that, he was carrying an ID that INTERPOL would have trouble finding out that it was fake. It had almost cost him more than the factory itself, but he planned to use the alias for a great many amount of things. He had purchased a very economical price, considering the amount of trash that had piled up. He had received several bids to help clean up said trash, but The Lost saw no reason to bribe the police into doing their jobs when there were vigilantes running around offering to do it for free.

After holding it for the women to see for a few seconds, he let go of the bottom, allowing it to roll itself up again. He then tossed it over towards Spider-Girl, as she was polite enough to at least introduce herself.

"I assure you that all of these documents will check out," he said with the same confidence he had held all through out. The deed and the documents were his weapons, and his confidence was his fighting style. The deeds would prove his (and his employees') involvement was purely in self defense as well as on his property against noted felons and gang members. His confidence would help reinforce that the documents were in fact authentic.

With the documents along with the army of lawyers he could hire at the drop of a hat, he knew that no DA from here to Gotham would dare touch the case against him. Even if he was arrested today, he'd probably be let out the same day. The police department would probably even apologize and beg for forgiveness as they let him out, hoping that he doesn't sue the department. Most likely, they wouldn't even bother arresting him.

And so he stood there, with his legs bound by shadows, with all the confidence in the world that the hero would have to let him go. Despite everything, justice weighed on his side... but only technically.

That was the kind of city this was.

It was a kind of city were corrupt people like The Lost could easily thrive, and heroes like these women were fighting an up hill battle, constantly slipping in the mud.