[center][img]https://s17.postimg.cc/6lac7i3q7/Q_Header.png[/img]
[img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLmE4YThhOC5TVzR1TGk0LC4wAAA,/whoopass.regular.png[/img]
[img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLmE4YThhOC5RM0o1SUc5bUlIUm9aU0JDWVc1emFHVmwuMAAA/whoopass.regular.png[/img]
[img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLmE4YThhOC5VR0Z5ZENCVWFISmxaUSwsLjAAAA,,/whoopass.regular.png[/img][/center][hr][Color=royalblue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]A N  E N I G M A T I C  M I N D[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]Time Means Nothing [SUP]not here[/SUP], XXXX - XX:XX XX | The Inner Workings | You Needn't Know Where[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
[sup]did you[/sup] [sub]really[/sub] [sup]think[/sup] [sub]that[/sub] [sup]you could[/sup] [sub]make a difference charles victor szasz[/sub]

[sub]you are nothing but a toddler throwing a tantrum lashing out at the world for being what it is[/sub]

[sub]you are not a hero[/sub] 

[sub]you are just a psychopath looking to vent his violent tendencies[/sub]

[sub]you cannot[/sub] [sup]help anyone[/sup]

[sub]you need to wake up[/sub] [sup]charlie[/sup]
[h3][b]WAKE UP[/b][/h3]
[Color=royalblue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]H U B  C I T Y / A M E R I C A[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]July 6[SUP]th[/SUP], 2008 - 3:17 AM | Hub City First National Bank | The Wedge[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
The blaring of police sirens pulled the Question into consciousness.

Slowly, he pulled himself up from the ruins of the copy machine and blinking the blood out of his eyes. From the hallway, he heard footsteps fast approaching. He was in no condition to fight the cops. He had to get the hell out of dodge, as soon as possible.

Half limping, half running, he made his way through the bank, narrowly avoiding police officers as he did so. His vision was turning red, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead into his eyes once more. He would need to take the mask off and bandage the wound, as soon as possible.

Before long, he was opening the roof access door. He'd need to make a leap of faith to the next building. Looking down at his bad leg, the vigilante took in a deep breath, readying himself for a quick sprint.

[color=royalblue]"On your marks,"[/color] Question said, a wry smirk hidden behind his mask.

He ran.

He lept.

His gloved fingers grabbed onto the ledge, and he pulled himself up. Relief flooding through him, he laid down on the roof for a well deserved rest.

Between rushed breaths, he released relieved chuckles. [color=royalblue]"I should go for the world record for the long jump..."[/color]

[Color=royalblue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]H U B  C I T Y / A M E R I C A[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]July 6[SUP]th[/SUP], 2008 - 5:04 AM | Arisotle Rodor's Home | Downtown[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
[color=olivedrab]"You're an idiot, Charlie."[/color]

Those were the first words out of Tot's mouth when Vic entered his home, and he had been repeating them every other minute for the last half hour.

[color=royalblue]"That's the sixteenth time you've said that today,"[/color] Vic replied, wincing slightly as Tot finished stitching up the wound in his forehead.

[color=olivedrab]"And I will continue to say it until the day I die,"[/color] Tot replied, heading over to his kitchen sink to wash the blood off his hands. [color=olivedrab]"You could have been killed."[/color]

[color=royalblue]"Maybe I could've. At least it would've been in the line of duty."[/color]

[color=olivedrab]"You need to forget about this 'Banshee' fellow, Charlie. The police can handle him."[/color]

[color=royalblue]"Tot, you saw what he did with just one punch,"[/color] Vic pointed at the stitching on this forehead. [color=royalblue]"They can't handle a meta. But [i]I[/i] can."[/color]

Tot released a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. [color=olivedrab]"You're going to get yourself killed."[/color]

[color=royalblue]"No,"[/color] Vic said, throwing on his overcoat and hat as he approached the door. Pulling down the brim of his hat, he continued, [color=royalblue]"I'm gonna catch a supervillain reject."[/color]

[Color=royalblue][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]H U B  C I T Y / A M E R I C A[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]July 13[SUP]th[/SUP], 2008 - 10:46 PM | Happy Harry's | Hell's Corner[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
It had been a week. Question wanted to go after the Banshee, but figured that by the time he went to any of his targets the villain would be long gone. Instead, he waited, and watched, letting the Banshee make himself known to the people of Hub City. He waited until he was sure the Banshee had, at the very least, made some connections in the underworld.

And then he struck.

Happy Harry's was a dive bar in the least desirable part of an already undesirable city. Every time the Question walked in, he was hit by the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, of broken dreams and wasted potential. It made him sick, but it was the best place to get information when he needed it.

As he walked into the bar, everything went silent.

The bartender, Harry, stared at the faceless man with wide eyes and a fearful expression on his face.

[color=royalblue]"Hey Harry. How's it hanging?"[/color]

[color=yellow]"Er, uh, hey Question,"[/color] Harry replied, yanking on his collar and putting on a forced grin. [color=yellow]"What a surprise for you to drop by... It's always... A..."[/color] Harry couldn't help it anymore. He pleaded to the vigilante, [color=yellow]"Please man, don't hurt anybody, they don't know anything..."[/color]

[color=royalblue]"I just need information, Harry."[/color] Question turned to the patrons, announcing, [color=royalblue]"The Banshee. I'm looking for him. If anyone knows anything, tell me."[/color]

His request was met with silence.

[color=royalblue]"... Nothing, huh? Alright. You."[/color] Question pointed at a man, whose eyes widened in fear at the vigilante's gesture.

[color=tan]"M-me?"[/color]

[color=royalblue]"Yeah, you."[/color] Question approached the man, grabbing his hand. [color=royalblue]"Let's play a game. For every wrong answer, I break a finger."[/color]

To demonstrate, he grabbed the man's pinkie finger, bending it backwards. With a sickening [b]CRA-[i]CRACK![/i][/b] the finger broke. The man cried in agony, struggling to free his hand from the Question's grasp.

[color=royalblue]"I've broken this man's pinkie finger. Where can I find the Banshee?"[/color]

Silence.

[b][i]CRACK![/i][/b]

[color=royalblue]"His ring finger.Where can I find the Banshee?"[/color]

[color=LightGray]"Jesus man, stop, we don't know anyth-"[/color]

[b][i]CRACK![/i][/b]

[color=royalblue]"Middle finger. That's half the fingers of his left hand. Where can I find the Banshee?"[/color]

[color=tan]"F-fuck! Just somebody, [i]anybody[/i], tell him what you know!"[/color]

[color=LightSteelBlue]"Alright, just... Shit... Just stop hurting the guy."[/color] A patron approached the Question, who dropped the man's hand. [color=lightsteelblue]"Look, I've been working with him for the last couple of days, selling all the goods he gets from his jobs. We meet at this warehouse of his, by the docks. Far as I can tell, that's his base."[/color]

[color=royalblue]"Hrm. Thanks for the assistance."[/color] With those words, the Question left the bar with a determined stride.

[color=royalblue][i]'I'm gonna find that son of a bitch, and when I do, he'll be sorry he crossed me...'[/i][/color]

[center][b]To Be Concluded[/b][/center]