[center][b][color=92278f]Overclock, 2:57 am
King Station, bordering Ross Park[/color][/b][/center]

((Warning: Adult language))

Overclock skulked around the darkened entrance to an alley as he kept an eye on the poorly lit street separating King Station from the Park. About fifty feet away, the porch light of a 24-hour convenience store flickered, catching his eye. Overclock considered stepping into the shop to get out of the rain, which by now had soaked through his clothes. He could get a hot drink, a protein bar... Or a candy bar, he could afford some chocolate/peanut-buttery goodness... Of course, that would mean having to be seen by the acne-ridden kid manning the graveyard shift, and possibly getting the cops called on him for either illegal vigilantism or suspected gang activity, considering his outfit. But on a night like tonight, maybe it'd be worth it to get run off this street...

Overclock snapped to attention as a pair of headlights rolled up to the stoplight just past the convenience store, crossing from the Park into the Station. It rolled slowly around the corner, the bright beams nearly catching Overclock before he ducked back into his alley hiding spot. Judging by the undercarriage lights, lifted cab, and the gang-related detailing; this had to be the D-Gens. Patrolling the edges of their turf, most likely. But now they had crossed into the Station, probably just to cut through and find a shortcut, but that was semantics. They were across the line. That was his cue.

As the car rolled up by the alleyway, Overclock sprinted out to plant himself in front of the car. The brakes squealed too late, as Overclock watched the car close the gap between its bumper and his legs. When the car hit though, instead of knocking down the masked man it simply... Stopped. Even the occupants of the car, none of whom were wearing their seatbelts, didn't move much, all the kinetic energy of the car suddenly being sapped away into the human battery in front of them. The four delinquents stared in slight shock at the hooded figure in front of their car before the drover swore and leaned on the horn.

"Yo muthafucker! Get the fuck outta the street you fuck! Quit touchin' my fuckin' car! You deaf or somethin'?! MOVE!"

Overclock grinned beneath his bandana, slipping a hand into a pocket and pulling out one of his rubber bands. He took a step back and listened to the driver rev his engine as he closed the gap again, clearly trying to intimidate him. Overclock hooked the band around a finger on his prosthetic, and grabbed it with his other hand. Raising the improvised and normally harmless projectile, Overclock chuckled as he charged it with stored energy, the rubber flashing a dull purple briefly before he aimed it at the windshield... And shot.

A pair of ear-piercing crashed filled the soaked streets, echoing down the alleys and off buildings. The windshield of the D-Gen's car had shattered, the band actually passing through and blowing out the rear window as well.There was a chorus of panicked screams from the four gang members as they abandoned the car, each or them brandishing pistols as they turned on him. Overclock tensed andreached for his staff...

This was about to get fun.