[center][img]http://i166.photobucket.com/albums/u118/EBJ05/RPG%20Banners/flash.png[/img][/center] [quote=@Gowi]The Flash. The world’s fastest hero and one of the few league members who could match her quip for quip. With him here to help it shouldn’t take too much longer if more crap didn’t come out of the woodwork which… it probably was going to. It [i]always[/i] did. [i]Every single time.[/i] [b]“[color=gold]Always first to the show, huh, Flash?[/color]”[/b] Carol quipped as she took flight; dodging to the right as a tire iron swung to her left. [b]“[color=gold]Be careful, we’ve got one of those Brotherhood ladies that wants to get in your head. [i]Literally.[/i][/color]”[/b][/quote] At that, I glance around at the approaching masses, noting the dead expression in all of their eyes. Sure enough, every last one of them is male. I turn to Carol and wink, [b][color=ed1c24]"Good thing I've only got eyes for you, then. Alright, you find the mind-controller, I'll deal with the civvies."[/color][/b] I clap my hands together and turn my attention to the task at hand. Nonviolent takedowns -- particularly of large groups -- are practically my specialty. Disappearing in a flash, I weave between brainwashed civilians moving far too slowly to touch me. As I pass them by, I reach out to snatch away the various improvised weapons that they're holding: wrenches, planks of wood, and the like. Before long, my arms are full of such things. I spot a thrown bottle overhead, practically spinning in place as it soars towards Captain Marvel. Adjusting the weight of everything I'm carrying, I propel myself into the air, using the shoulder of an unwitting rioter as a launchpad. With a spinning kick, I send the bottle spiraling to the pavement. It shatters with a satisfying crash. My feet hit the ground, and I pick up speed again. Okay, I've disarmed them; time to focus on containment. At the edge of the stadium's parking lot, I dump my armful of weapons into the back of an unoccupied pickup truck. I stop moving for a moment to take a look down either end of the street. What I [i]need[/i] is a hardware store. If this were Central City, I'd know exactly where to go, but we're on neutral turf. Trusting Carol to be able to hold down the fort for a quick second, I take off down the street, scanning the various storefronts until I find what I need. The bell above the door rings as I swoop inside, darting straight towards the appropriate aisle. I grab a long coil of rope off a shelf and turn to the starstruck cashier. [b][color=ed1c24]"Can I borrow this?"[/color][/b] Slack-jawed, he can only manage a slow nod. [b][color=ed1c24]"Thanks."[/color][/b] With that, I'm back out the door and racing towards Ferris Aircraft Stadium. The mob is practically falling over itself trying to get to Captain Marvel, who simply hovers just beyond reach. Good, this'll be quicker with them all bunched up already. I start running in circles around the mass of mind-controlled masculinity. With each pass, I press a little closer, using my elbows and hips to force the stragglers closer to the main group. Once the crowd is centralized sufficiently, I tie one end of rope around the waist of an oblivious rioter. I begin circling again, letting out the length of rope. After about my twentieth pass, I reach the other end and give the rope a strong tug. It constricts and pulls the rioters together until they all fall over. I bend down and tie off the loose end of the coil with a few extra knots to be safe. I can't help but laugh as the various men attempt to scramble to their feet and end up bowling each other over, like the world's worst game of three-legged race. My self-satisfaction is short-lived, however, as something hard and fast collides with my back, sending me sprawling. A figure steps forward, throwing its shadow over me. I look up at a familiar, unfriendly face. [b]"What's the matter, Flash..."[/b] the thinly-accented voice taunts. [center][img]http://www.classicmarvelforever.com/images/quicksilver.gif[/img][/center] [b]"... you didn't see that coming?"[/b]