[b][color=red]Phoenix, Arizona[/color][/b] In a warehouse downtown, rain pelted against the windows. A merciful reprieve from the harsh desert climate, though within, nefarious machinations were afoot. Numerous roughnecks, shaved heads and tattoos all around, stood around a circle of motorcycles with a pentagram drawn by skidmarks in the center. They watched nervously as their leader looked at the screen of a laptop held in a briefcase by a man with sickly greenish skin, his face hidden by a shadowy hood and a tattered mask. with their mysterious benefactor- a masked crime lord with long, red hair, a full-body spandex suit, and piercing red eyes. “...So you're telling me, that you can see and hear me talking, while I'm here and you're across the damn country?” “Uh... yeah, boss, that's... that's kinda how Skype works.” “Fascinating. Technology certainly has changed.” The leader, shaved head and swastika tattoo glistening with a nervous sweat, shifted awkwardly as the other members looked in on the circle of motorcycles. The ninja kept his eyes locked forward. “Sure... sure has, boss.” “So... Deathwatch, uh, sir, you're sure this ritual's legit?” “Certainly. It is a ritual used by demonic cultists on several occasions, handed down directly from a demon. I will take care of the singular element, but I'm certain you can handle... Well, you can find the skull quite easily. I'll have Death Ninja here take care of the innocent blood. Can't find that too easily out in Arizona I'd wager.” “Thanks boss. We'll have the ritual done as soon as we get the reagents.” “Of course. Farewell, members of the Fuhrer's Fiends. May your efforts prove fruitful.” With that, the ninja snapped the briefcase shut, reaching into his pocket and throwing down... something. With a bright flash, the smell of brimstone, and smoke, he was gone, along with the briefcase. The thugs breathed a sigh of relief. Something about Deathwatch wasn't right... even beyond the company he kept. The man in the center of the pentagram, however, raised his fist- obviously more confident. “Alright boys! We're on the track to getting back the boss! We just gotta hold up our end of the bargain, and Deathwatch'll handle his! Don't you worry- Big Daddy Dawson's never steered you wrong before!” The gang cheered uncertainly before the group broke up, milling about the warehouse. The portly man, evidently named Dawson, retired to the security office, where he lit up a cigar as he popped open a leather-bound tome. Even if Deathwatch gave him such a swanky new book, the fact it was in latin kept him from grasping the finer points of the strange rituals outlined on the page. But the translation provided was simple enough. A pentagram made by warriors using the tracks of their steeds. The hair of the one to be resurrected. The blood of an innocent. The brain of an animal. Mix well in the skull of a murderer, dead a hundred years at the death of your intended. Kill two virgins in the pentagram... and drink. And then, their leader would be returned to life. The question was what Deathwatch got out of all this... but that would wait. For now, they needed to get a man out to Hangman's Gulch. [hr] [b][color=red]Phoenix, Arizona, 9:55 PM[/color][/b] Death Ninja sat in the shadows, waiting. Phoenix, Arizona was the kidnapping capital of the USA. It would be quite simple to pass this disappearance off as just another victim of Phoenix's human trafficking- although it would be quite difficult to have it go unnoticed altogether, especially given his intended victims. The only truly innocent people, innocent enough that even the strictest ritual would find no fault, were children. Of course, children would cry and scream and kick, and weighed between thirty and eighty pounds. Which would be very bad for stealth. This was why he decided to trade weight for more crying. As a man in khaki pants walked beneath him and turned out the lights, Death Ninja dropped from the vent into the maternity ward of St. Luke's Hospital. Silently, the ghastly figure lurched forward, sliding a plate into the door to stop the pressure sensor against the wall before sliding it back into place. He looked around and shrugged. Two innocents, and, unless something was seriously wrong with the staff here, virgins. The ninja snatched up a half dozen infants with his withered, skeletal hands and began making his way back to the vent as the children awoke, beginning to cry... Only to run into a security guard with a taser drawn, standing in front of a blinking security camera. “FREEZE, BRAINMUNCH-” Unfortunately, the guard didn't have time to finish his sentence as Death Ninja threw a baby off to the side, leaving the guard to scramble after it as the undead ran down the hall. The guard dove to catch the infant, sighing with relief before turning back to see the ninja run down a hallway. Two other guards ran down the hall, drawing their weapons as well. The ninja saw the two glass panes meeting, and new he'd come to the corner of the building- a lower roof three stories below. From down the adjacent hall, he could see two more officers. “Don't move, scumbag! We've got you surrounded! Put the kids down an-” However, Death Ninja didn't even stop. With a rather impressive leap, he drop kicked through the window, rolling on the roof- and double checking that his payload of infants were alright. Satisfied that his sacrificial infants were unharmed, the ninja nodded and jumped to the adjacent roof, silent footsteps all the while. [hr] [color=yellow]Phoenix, Arizona- 10:05, The Quentin Carnival![/color] Johnny Blaze- the world's most famous stuntman. The star of the Quentin Carnival, and the world record holder for motorcycle jump length at 350 feet. What most DON'T know about this daredevil darling is his familiarity with the arcane- or the terrible secret he holds. For each night, as the sun sets, Johnny's flesh and blood are burnt away, and he becomes... [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/b2n87R0.png[/img][/center] Tonight, as always, it was difficult to sleep. This meant Johnny was preparing for the morning's stunt: he was set to jump Hangman's Gulch, an infamous canyon home to many tragic deaths, and the site of the unmarked graves of at least a dozen souls. If something went wrong, Johnny might be joining them- which was why practice meant EVERYTHING right now. However, a signal on the radio brought him out of the practicing move fairly quickly. [i]“...repeating... an amber alert has been issued... five newborn children have been kidnapped from St. Luke's Hospital's maternity ward by...”[/i] The man's voice grew quieter as the sound of a moving microphone came over the air. [i]“Are you kidding me Rogers? You can't [b]seriously expect[/b]... what? *ahem*”[/i] The man's voice returned to full volume, though it was clear he didn't believe a word of what he was reading. [i]“...the perpetrator has been described by officers at the scene as... ugh... a sickly green figure, with glowing yellow eyes, wearing a tattered ninja getup. He has shown clear disregard for his life... and those of his victims. If you have any information, please contact...”[/i] Johnny turned around, surprised, and fearing his secret discovered... only to see his beloved Roxanne Simpson over by the radio. He dismounted his motorcycle, and walked over. [color=red]“Rocky, I'm sorry but-”[/color] Roxanne leaned up, and gave Johnny a kiss on his skeletal cheek. The two shared a brief gaze, full of the understanding that kept Johnny grounded in the ever-madder world. Though he had no lips at the moment, Johnny did his best to return the gesture. After a moment in his lover's arms, the Ghost Rider held out his arms as the earth cracked open and a flaming motorcycle rose out. Roxanne smiled and waved him off. “I'll try to keep Bart from doing the jump before you're back.” [hr][b] [color=red]10:10, the Phoenix Skyline[/color][/b] Death Ninja checked his equipment. Four babies. It had taken two to distract those officers that ambushed him under the bypass. A nebulous number of shuriken. Inaccessible due to having his arms full of children. Shoe and hand spikes. Left in the vent due to the possibility of bleeding out the children early. Smoke bombs. Again, inaccessible. A sword. Definitely not the best time to be using it. Death Ninja was starting to regret going for reagent redundancy as he ran from the police chasing him up the fire escape of a building, reaching the roof... only to be blinded by a spotlight and deafened by the whir of helicopter blades rising up. His silent footsteps, and even the sound of helicopter blades, were slowly being drowned out by an approaching roar... “THIS IS THE POLICE, WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND-” Three babies. Thinking fast, Death Ninja tossed the child back over the fire escape, leaving a police officer to scramble for it as he took a running start to the edge of the building. However, the officer came short... only for a trail of flames to appear up the wall next to him, and an unharmed- if terrified- baby in his arms. A motorcycle jumped up the wall and landed on the other side, its rider putting down a foot and glaring at Death Ninja, who began backing away. The pursuit helicopter's camera zeroed in on the new figure. The pilots looked down at the screen, confused by the arrival of what seemed to be a burning Halloween decoration. “Hey, check out that guy's stunt suit. Is... that Johnny Blaze?” “I... don't think this is a stunt routine man. Those flames ain't cheesy enough to be part of the Ghost Rider act.” “...First some kinda zombie ninja, now some skeleton looking dude on a bike... this is above our paygrade, man. Let's blow this pop stand.” Death Ninja wasted no time. The arrival of Ghost Rider, the fact he was down to three babies, and the interference of police meant this was going south far faster than he anticipated. He was left with two babies, tossing one into the arms of a policeman that had just crested the top of the fire escape before taking a running leap towards the helicopter... and beginning to run across the spinning blade to the other side of the street. He leapt up, crossing to the higher building. The difference in height would make this jump impossible for a normal man. For the average stuntman, it would be a daunting prospect, requiring much thought, planning, and practice... Were they thinking of their own safety. Johnny's thoughts weren't on himself, however- they were on the three ahead of him. Straddled between life and death. The innocent children, and the ninja. With a rev of his bike, a look at the slant of the stairwell leading into the building, and a menacing glare, Ghost Rider began to build up speed.