[center][color=darkorange][b]Absolute Comics:[/b] The Vixen, Issue 4: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_V_6yIvmzgw]Second Skin[/url][/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/PIPyCwr.png?1[/img][/center] [hr] [center] [i] I need a second skin Something to hold me tough Can't do it on my own Sometimes I need just a little more help [/i][/center] "What the fuck are we even doing, Nancy?" Mari asked. The green park bench she was sitting on was uncomfortable and covered in a layer of filth. She hoped it was only food. Between her hands she cradled a cup of coffee. It's warmth was the only thing keeping her alive. The hint of Styrofoam that she tasted with each sip was a reminder that she was living the high life. She'd been sitting there in the cold for hours, a maroon hoodie pulled tight over her head and tunes blasting into her ears. She was bored out of her mind and the talking spider sitting next to her wasn't helping. "Following the plan, we're following the plan," Nancy said. All eight of his compound eyes remained focused on the bank. He had been sullen all morning. Mari suspected it was because she'd thrown a pillow at him. She did not believe in early mornings or mornings, the opinions of talking spiders be damned. "What plan?" "My plan." "And who the fuck are you supposed to be?" "Don't worry about it." "We're casing a bank. You're telling me to rob a bank. I’ll fucking worry about it." "A bank that's being used to funnel money." "Oh great, so that makes bank robbery legal, yeah?" Mari scoffed. "I thought I was a hero Nancy, but clearly, this was all a get-rich-quick scheme masterminded by a diminutive arachnid." "[b]Think[/b]. Think for just a moment. This is a bank that is being used to funnel money to a pack of gangsters and the politicians they have purchased. It is a corrupt institution that is complicit in the violence that has overwhelmed this city. Greed and human weakness cast in tasteful stone. It needs to die, just like Wall Street, fuck what the laws says about it," Nancy added, glowering right back at her. "Sure, fine, let’s burn the motherfucker down then." "Rob not burn. Did you even listen to my briefing? We need this place standing, but emptier. We need the Blood Syndicate to retain some power. We can’t destabilize the system too much, not right now. Dakota City wouldn't survive it, not yet." "The Blood— What?" Mari sputtered, choking on her coffee. "Don't tell me there's a coven of vampires in Dakota City? That's way above my pay grade." "Vampires? Don't be ridiculous," Nancy hissed back. "Vampires. Vampires. Have you been drinking?" "Forgive me, oh wise one," Mari replied. "Then who are these jokers?" "The Blood Syndicate are OGs. They were here before the Big Bang. Although they were two gangs then. The Paris Island Bloods and the Force Syndicate. They've been running the show for almost two decades now. Long enough to acquire quaint ideas of honor. They're some proper kitted up street samurai is what I am saying. They're ready for a long war and they're used to taking losses. They're going to put up a fight. A big fight." "They got guns?" "Yes, lots of them. Chrome enough for a small army and bullets to spare." "They have any metahumans?" "They do indeed. They've got several. Some of the strongest ones. Real monsters." "Great," Mari sighed. "I'm going to need some second skin to deal with these assholes." "Dragon scales should suffice. Just reign fire down on them from the sky." "What?" "Never mind. We'll talk about it later." "Fine. Who's in charge?" "Now?" "Yes, now." "Right now, a chap by the name of Holocaust. He's a brutal fellow. Built like a German tank. Big, large, and with far too much steel. Burns his enemies alive. A veritable cremation machine. Nasty stuff really." "Wonderful." "He's got a talent for it. Leadership that is. He's exactly the type needed to keep a group of marauding brutes like the Blood Syndicate under control. They're a fractured bunch, old, bitter sets smashed together in the name of profit. Lotta bad blood, lotta festering hatred there. They fight each other almost as much as they fight the other gangs. Holocaust keeps them in line with violence. It's hard to rebel when you're on fire, after all," Nancy mused with a tone of appreciation in his spidery voice. "So I wreck their bank and then what?" "We leave a message." "A message for who?" "For Static. We need him to know he's not alone."