[b][u]Bombshell[/u][/b] - Charlie Wilcox - Northern Sector

As night fell, the underground came to life in Crown City. 

That's where Charlie waited that night, at the bar of a discreet club located in the literal underground. It was marked outside only by a staircase that lead from the broken sidewalk of a city street into the basement of an old building. It was the type of the place you could only discover if you already knew it was there. No one really knew how it had earned the name "The Gravestone". 

Although she was fully clad in leather Bombshell gear, the pink-haired vigilante didn't especially stand out. The were a number of attendees wearing costumes, some with the distinct themes and others with loud clashes of color or stand-out materials. Many of the ensembles were accompanied by a mask. In effect, the long, statuesque figure longing by the bar in a gas mask didn't stir too many questions. At least, nothing apart from the numerous variations of, "Can I buy you a drink?" Each time she declined. Usually, Charlie didn't mind a free drink, but tonight the sea of freaks could be nothing more than decent cover as she stalked her prey. 

His name was Ralph Caine, and she had spotted him early in the evening when he had entered The Gravestone. He was traveling with a small entourage of security. It seemed he wasn't brave enough to travel unprotected, but not notable enough to require heavy muscle. That would work in Charlie's favor. He wore a grey, pin-stripe suit with a matching black tie. His shoes were in need of shining. Charlie judged him to be the type of man that like to assert himself as important, but lacked the detail to attention to really carry it through. He was playing at the life of wealth that she had been born into.

She watched as he slipped into a back room with a woman that he had been entertaining; she was scantily dressed as something akin to a bumble-bee. Charlie waited a few beats of her heart. [i]One, two, three...[/i] It pounded heavily. It was hard to contain her excitement.

Her leather body fluidly slid from its perch on the stool. She glided through the crowd of party-goes as if she were parting a multi-colored sea. At the door, a large man - whom she feared would rip his suit if he flexed - lifted a meaty hand to stop her. Without missing a beat, she pressed a large bill to his rock-solid chest. He paused, looking down at the bribe, then back up at her curved body clad in leather. He still seemed unsure.

Her hand lifted to pull the mask up and off, shaking out her pink waves of hair. She gave him a charming smile, "I was hoping to meet Mr. Caine tonight. I know it's probably against the rules...but do you think you could let me through? Please?" The guard shifted between his feet. He didn't seem to view her as a threat, yet he sternly stated "He's occupied." She pouted her pink lips, clutching her mask to her chest, "Theres enough to share. He'll thank you for this, I swear." He hesitated. Finally, he pocketed the money and let her pass. [i]Rookie.[/i]

The room she stepped into was dimly lit, the air quickly filling with thick smoke from the end of a lit cigar hanging from Ralph Caine's mouth. He was lounging on one of the many plush love-seats that furnished the room. Quietly, she closed the door behind her. He and his companion were too distracted to notice her entrance until she came upon them. The bumble-bee looked at her indignantly when Charlie clutched her uncovered shoulder and gave a cold, "Beat it." The bumble-bee parted her lips to argue, but was met with a cold glare that immediately ended any argument before it began.

Once she had skittered from the room, the man on the other end of the cigar curled his lips into a sly grin, "My, my...aren't we impressive." As he analyzed her 'impressiveness,' he straightened in his seat and gathered the cigar from his lips, flicking the ash carelessly from the tip, "What can I do for you, princess?" 

The charm drained from her soft features, "You can tell me where the Killer Shark is." A look of confusion wrinkled Caine's face. Charlie lowered the gas mask over her face as she reached for a canister along her belt, "Oh, honey...I'm not going to ask nicely again."

---

Approximately 10 minutes later, Charlie bursted through the back entrance of The Gravestone. She sprinted, a black shadow with a flash of pink hair, to a waiting motorcycle hidden from view. In a fluid motion, she gathered the rocket launcher from the seat and slipped it onto her back, gliding into place on the bike. The backdoor of The Gravestone flew open with an angry, "Stop her!" as Charlie went screeching from the lot, flying towards the location that a now passed-out Caine had been forced to give her.