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[IMG]http://i68.tinypic.com/2v2tvmf.jpg[/IMG]
[I]City life was never simple, but it was never like this either.[/I][/CENTER]
 
[h3]TL;DR Summary[/h3]
[list]
[*] Cops and Robbers with superpowers.
[*] Pill-popping for Great Justice.
[*] The real world suddenly turned on its head.
[*] Gritty, modern, urban street-drama.
[*] Moderate overarching, character-based plot.
[*] The kind of shit you get on your TV.
[*] Please post characters in hiders below until approved.
[/list]
 
[h3]In Character Info[/h3]
[indent][I]So Dave's dead.

...yeah. That happened.

I'm not going to lie to you guys, this is pretty fucked. I know things weren't always great but at least we had us. We had...I don't know. The team, or whatever. The crew. I'm not going to stand up here like a bitch and call you all family--now is not the [b]goddamn[/b] time, Mike, shut the fuck up--but I am going to say you're the closest thing I have to one. I see a lot of nodding heads out there, and that's good. That's real good. He'd have liked that, only he won't anymore because he's [b]fucking[/b] dead.

Sorry. On point.

Dave had a saying I really liked, how sometimes when you can't make do with a scalpel you gotta reach for the axe. Yeah, I see you smiling over there Alex--some tongue-in-cheek shit--but he wasn't wrong. We've been playing this whole thing small, easy and safe, pretending if we just keep our heads down this will all blow over us. We've never been out for the big time, you guys know that. You feel me, you know where I'm coming from.

Only now the big time's out for us. Used to be a fucking suicide mission, walking in here and talking that shit, but neon's back and it's here to stay, boys--shut [b]up[/b], Jackie, Jesus, now with the feminist shit? You know what I mean. You all heard him. The Breaker boys are popping it like fucking pez and setting up shop, and that means knuckling down and kissing ass. They want us out. They want us out bad enough to walk in here and fucking... just waltz on in and...

Yeah. Sorry. On point.

Anyway, enough talk. That's the point of this whole spiel, enough talk. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to grab the goddamn axe, and thanks to egg-head over there we've got one. Yeah, that's right. He goddamn did it. Dunno how long this first batch is going to last us, but I sure as hell know who I'm gonna use it on.

To Dave, ladies and gentlemen. To Dave and to Hell, 'cause that's the only place we're sending those motherfuckers.

Now someone get me a damn drink. If I don't wake up in the morning wishing they'd put me down instead, one of you assholes will. 
[/I][/indent]
 
[h3]Out of Character Info[/h3]
[indent] Life might not have been great in Brighton--named ironically for the way the Piper Way Viaduct and the surrounding hills almost completely block out the sky--but at least it was life. 43rd and Hoxton wasn't exactly the best place to grow up, but it had its people. Most knew them as the H10 Crew, after the Hoxton Tenements they lived in, and they had their reputation same as anyone else. Didn't take shit, didn't talk shit, didn't bring shit. It had its hoods and its assholes same as anyone else--they ran game, had their girls, turned their bricks--but if you looked around it was a whole lot better than the alternative. Hell, when David King started running the show they were damn near respectable. The kind of guys that would spot you if you were short rent (and not take your kneecaps for it) and make sure your kid got on the bus instead of chasing greens down at Sanchez' place (that fuckin' guy...).

Then neon came along and changed the game.

The first round, some six months ago or so, was a trial run. Anyone with street sense could see that. Some H10 Crew tried it, but they were the lucky ones--even if things went sideways for them they kept it together, didn't level the block like that shit that went down on Walkins Boulevard. It ran its course like they did for everyone else and they figured it had done just that--run its course. Over and past, moved on and sold out to the military or something. Who the hell know with kind of heat.

It wasn't until recently, when it hit the street again, that shit got real. 'Real' as in 'deadly'. 'Real' as in two members of the Breakers, a neighboring gang with ties to some real thugs, walking in to the warehouse the H10 Crew had 'appropriated' and telling them they had a week to sign up or fuck off. When more than a few members opposed, with more than a few firearms raised and names called, the Breakers made good on their name. While one of them managed to stop [i]every last damn bullet[/i] with his fucking brain, the other walked up to David King and put his hand through his chest. They repeated the offer and walked out.

That was last week.

Yesterday, local whizkid Verge Hanson cracked the code. After testing it out himself (and damn near blowing every circuit in the building), he came to Dave King's best friend and functioning-lieutenant Dante and told him the good news before the pair headed off to Dave's wake, where Dante promptly declared war and drank himself shitfaced in memoriam, as did most of the rest of the assembled. That was day six.

Today is one week to the day of David King's death. Your characters, members of the H10 Crew (or distraught neighbors, friends, etc.) are suiting up. They know full well that the Breakers are doing the same and getting ready, but they're not going to be ready for [i]this[/i]. Dante plans to hit them first and hit them hard, rocking Verge's neon and anyone who's willing to hold a gun or bust out some sick powers.

So yeah, today'll be quite the day for your ladies and gentlemen. And tomorrow, well...

Let's just say it's gonna be a hell of a week.[/indent]