[b]Oct. 14, 2016 | 6:10PM | Marigold Apartments, Central Chicago, IL[/b]

"I know man, I just... I can't come out tonight, alright?"

The young man fumbled with the keys to his apartment's door, shoving the door open with a sigh. The place was dreary, looking like a damn disaster zone. Trash was all over the floor, ranging from a gallery of hard liquor bottles to pizza boxes to even more bottles, the labels faded to the point of uselessness. The furniture didn't fare much better either - The most expensive thing in the room was probably the smartphone pressed up against his ear. He made his way in, grabbing a remote off his coffee table and flicking on the news.

"Come on..." The voice on the other end started, "It's just a couple drinks. Some pool. We never see you anymore!"

The man sighed as he plopped down on his discount sofa, shaking his head. He was half-tempted to just hang up at this point, though he stayed on the line as he went and grabbed a baseball bat resting beside the door, fumbling with an odd mess of wires and electronics near the cap of the handle.

"Look," said the man, irritation barely masked, "I'm busy tonight. It's really important. It's for, uh... School. Or something. Whatever. Just go out and have a good night without me."

"Jesus, we haven't seen you for more than five minutes since what happened with Vicky! You think she'd want you wasting your night away by yourself?"

[i][color=red]The fuck did you just say about her?[/color][/i]

He paused, gritting in his teeth in frustration. He opened his mouth to start on a whole new kind of rant, when he heard the muffled boom outside of his window. He paused, getting up and rushing over, looking as well as he could over the crowded skyline. Smoke plumes. Not a short walk but maybe he could make it before the pigs did.

"Shit, ah, Mark, I'll talk to you later. Bye." He hung up without waiting for a response, slipping his phone into his back pocket. There would be time to clean up street thugs later, this looked like one hell of a thrill.

He grabbed his bag and bat and rushed for the door, the TV's news of the militant group known as the Iconoclasts falling on deaf ears.

---

[b]Oct. 14, 2106 | 6:20 | Fuller Park, Chicago[/b]
[u][b]Arc[/b][/u]

His bat rested on his shoulder as he sprinted through the alleyways towards Fuller. He knew the place. He patrolled there often. Never had to deal with explosions, though, usually just idiot thugs and teenage 'gangs'. Something must be going on tonight.

Arc stopped in an alleyway, taking a moment to catch his breath. Despite the nights of ass-whooping and staring death in the eye, his cardio was still garbage. But he would never admit that. Instead, he told himself he wanted to get ready. He knelt down beside the wall as his breathing leveled out, pulling his shoulder-bag off and digging inside. Not long after a black bandanna was tied firmly around his face and the hood of his ratty red sweatshirt was up.

He pulled a couple of 9-Volts from the base of the bag, propping his bat up against the wall and doing what he could to shield the electronics from the rain. It was pretty sturdy stuff, wouldn't short out or anything, but he'd visited the nurses with more than a couple of electrical burns before. He'd really just prefer to avoid that tonight. He slipped the batteries into the device, and a red LED on the side beside a switch flickered on. It was ready. He pulled his goggles from his bag, zipped it up and strapped them on before he broke out into a run again.

The shouting and the booms were getting closer, and while he wasn't completely sure he swore he heard sirens in the distance. But he didn't have time to worry about that now. He'd escaped the cops before, more than once. He just needed to get there before them. He didn't trust them to deal with the situation, least of all if explosions were involved. They'd probably try to take him in, and he'd end up pulling some other kind of stunt and blow up a bunch of coppers too.

[i][color=red]Or worse, they'd take him to the hospital, and he'd...[/color][/i]

[i][color=lightblue]Shut up. No time to worry about that. Focus on the task at hand.[/color][/i]

His thoughts wrestled as he emerged in the street at Fuller Park. He knew the neighborhood looked like shit, but woof. Shrapnel in the street, cars on fire, innocents begging in the streets... It'd seen better days, and that was saying something. Arc proceeded forward, walking past a woman crying on the ground. She grabbed at his leg, begging for help, but he paid no mind, simply shaking her off and proceeding forward. He needed to focus. She could leave on her own time. Then, he spotted them.

The man stood in the street, and Arc recognized him almost instant. Derby. He'd seen him on the news once or twice. And boy did he hate him. The guy was a total nutcase, blurring the line between fighting for justice and just getting your rocks off killing people.

[i][color=red]Sounds familiar...[/color][/i]

"Shut up..." Arc muttered. No time for doubts right now. This guy was a problem. Arc flipped the switch on his bat, the red light blinking out in favor of a green one. Primed. The batteries only were good for one good hit though, so he needed to be sure. He scanned the street quickly. There was a lot of ground to cover and charging at a guy with 'Demolition' in his name wasn't the brightest idea.

[i][color=lightblue]Maybe it's time to walk away. Or at least come up with a plan.[/color][/i]

He squinted forward, reaching up to move his goggles. He was in plain sight. The only reason Derby wasn't coming after him yet was likely because there were much better things to blow up nearby... Nearby... Hm?

Arc's eyes spotted some shadows across from him, on the other side of Derby. Two? Three? Maybe his eyes were playing tricks. Then again... Could be more vigs, or- Better yet, maybe the people Derby was after. They were probably facing a similar dilemma. Which meant maybe Arc could work something out.

[i][color=red]Alright. I have a plan.[/color][/i]

[i][color=lightblue]This isn't a plan, it's suicide. You're taking a huge chance with your life here.[/color][/i]

[i][color=red]It'll be fine. Just watch.[/color][/i]

A distraction. The enemy of my enemy. There was no way Arc could close the distance in time to get a hit in before he got blown up. Derby had good control of the field. But at this distance... Maybe Arc could get away before any explosions hit. I mean, they were [b]explosions[/b] so of course this was fucking nuts, but he had a better chance of getting to cover the further away Derby was. If he was right he might be able to pull Derby away from the scene to somewhere more convenient where he could get the upper hand. If he was wrong, well... He prayed that those shadows weren't just cowardly innocents.

"Hey, sweetheart," Arc said to the woman at his feet, hefting his bat up. "If you don't want to end up as paste on street, you might wanna get going. Things are about to get busy." The woman stared a moment before scurrying away, terrified. Arc barely noticed. His blood was pumping. Adrenaline filled his veins and sent all kinds of pleasure up to his brain. What a [i]goddamn[/i] thrill. He put his fingers underneath his bandanna and let out an almighty whistle, taking a few measured steps towards Derby.

[b]"Hey Derby!"[/b] He shouted, hefting his bat up. He was half poised to run, half about to fall down from fear. But he pushed on. [b]"Your momma pick your clothes out this morning? Figured she'd be too busy to dress you after fuckin' every foreigner this side of Chicago last night!"[/b]


[i][color=lightblue]This is nuts. This is stupid. I'm going to die.[/color][/i]

[i][color=red]If you keep worrying you will. Focus. Things are getting exciting.[/color][/i]