The Wards jumped into action in a most spectacular way, coordinating their strategies as though they had been a team far longer than they truly had been. The moment Tulpa's projection manifested it gained immediate attention from the gang members. "What the fuck is that?!" cried out one. "Shoot it, shoot it!" another yelled. Alas, only one of their group had any guns.
"Attack it, you idiots!" bellowed Eyeblight himself, pulling his gun free from its holster and pointing the weapon directly at the creature suddenly accosting them. The scarecrow themed supervillain got off two shots on the manifestation before he, and everyone else looking in that direction, became overcome by a dazzling sensation as Messiah's beam of light blasted through the tunnels.
"Argh!"
"My eyes!"
"MOTHER FUCKER!"A number of the gang members had charged directly towards the manifestation only to be thrown off balance by the sudden blindness that had stricken them. One fell forward, promptly trampled by his peers. Another accidentally bypassed Tulpa's minion altogether, only to pierce his left foot on a caltrop left by Margrave. The gangbanger let out a howl of pain that echoed throughout the entire storm drain. Another nearby, attempting to stab his knife into Tulpa's creation, called to the others in the Community. "I see others! There's people, but I can't tell how many! Ah, fucking light!"
Meanwhile, Messiah's first shot of fire struck its target immediately. The pistol in Eyeblight's hand super heated to a red hot state, causing the villain to drop it in pain. The useless hunk of now melted metal collided with the concrete floor not with a loud "ptang!" but with a soft "thud" as it hit some leftover mud and dirt. Eyeblight immediately recoiled, holding his injured hand with his free digits. This movement caused Messiah's second attack, aimed for the villain's knife, to fall off target and strike harmlessly against the concrete. Well, not entirely harmlessly. Eyeblight followed the trail of flame to its source. He knew where they were now.
On the other side of the tunnel, what few gang members had taken notice of the second prong attack were engaged in a potentially lethal battle against the front line Martyrs. One gang member successfully stabbed one of the extradimensional doppelgangers in the gut with a broken bottle, but he was quickly felled by Sonar. The leader of the Wards nearly cracked the man's skull with his stainless steel baton, and the man nearly cracked the pavement as his body struck it. The ganger was in no danger of losing his life, but that was one mother of a concussion for sure. With that gangster down and the others held back by the various Martyrs, Sonar took the opportunity to gauge his team's status. So far so good, everyone seemed to be in an advantageous position. Everyone except for Epsilon, that was, presently eyeing him like a deer caught in the headlights.
Sonar instinctively understood. He had gotten pretty good at that. Of course the fact that he heard everything, down to the friction of individual clothing fibers, meant that he sort of cheated a bit. The young teen unclipped three sets of restraints from his belt and tossed them to Epsilon, then returned his gaze to the battlefield that was the storm drain. So many people, in such a tight area. He couldn't use his sonic scream without harming his own team as well as the eight hostages, so that was right out. Apart from that, the only one that it wouldn't be potentially lethal against was Eyeblight himself, while the villain would remain by and large totally unharmed as the sound waves would pass through his individual fibers. Not liking the situation, Sonar felt a bit useless himself now that the info gathering stage had passed. Then five more of the Community gang members shifted position to focus on attacking Sonar, Martyr, and Epsilon, and the leader of the Wards prepared himself to fight back.
Back on the other side of things, the majority of the gang members attempted to gang up on Tulpa's manifested projection. Only a couple could assault it at a time, but they did so with reckless abandon. With every blow it was as though these gang delinquents pushed their bodies beyond normal limits to smack, stab, cut, and smash the projected being with absolutely everything they had. Through all the chaos one figure stood near the hostages. Eyeblight performed a double take, shifting his focus between the attackers from deeper down the tunnel, to the onslaught from the exit, and back again.
"Hahahahaha! Wards! Capes will be a far greater prize for our Patriarch than these street lowlifes! YOU WILL ALL WEAR THEM DOWN SO I CAN TAKE THEM BACK TO PATRIARCH! THROW YOUR LIVES AWAY IF YOU HAVE TO EVEN IF IT SLOWS THEM DOWN JUST A LITTLE!"The villain dressed in the gaudy burlap costume called out loudly with the slightest hint of a Hispanic accent, clearly maniacal and deranged. His form altered in his speech, his flesh vanishing from sight, his size altering, becoming much skinnier, lankier, and did he sprout tons of thick hair? No, Eyeblight's powers were well known and well documented. Everyone in the Protectorate and the PRT had been given at least a rudimentary briefing on the Community lieutenants, and Eyeblight was no different. The man had become living, breathing straw.
A monster in appearance, just glancing in his general direction somehow caused a deep rooted feeling of something... Unsettling. Locking eyes to his form for a prolonged period of time had driven at least one man insane with terror. Now this avatar of shivers and goosebumps turned his attention to the Wards attacking from deep within the storm drain.
Eyeblight abandoned the hostages, charging as straight as he could toward his prey. Incredible speed, agility, and flexibility completely nullified the obstacles in his way as the being of straw and nightmares weaved around, between, beneath, and up over his own men. When faced with Tulpa's projection Eyeblight went the extra mile for that bit of flair, dodging straight through the mass of tentacles around the beast's torso by contorting his back at a hundred seventy degree angle, then used the creature's neck as a launch pad to kick off toward his first target: Margrave. The unnerving villain charged straight through the caltrops, unhindered, drawing his combat knife.
The Broker smiled, his eyes curling just a small bit in genuine surprise, as Sofia took care of the blood as requested. The composed man stood up, circled around the scene, then stood in one place. As he made his motions the Broker observed, taking careful note and approving of the situation.
"Most excellent. Thank you very much, miss Stein. I must say, this has been an incredibly educational test to the limits of your powers." He continued to smile in a knowing fashion, then addressed the various questions he had been asked.
"Please do refrain from ignoring the cadaver. I did already promise it to... Lovely... For their studies." The Broker hesitated a moment before referring to Love Craft by the androgynous being's preferred pronoun. His eyes and lips quivered, just a hair, before he finally was able to utter the word. Clearly this made him uncomfortable, but not nearly enough to interrupt their proceedings.
The building's owner then turned to Headhunter.
"Yes, of course. Please, forgive me for my tardiness in addressing your request. In all the excitement, some details are bound to slip by the wayside. I shall be agreeable to this arrangement and put in the order with the expedience I can muster. But for now," the man turned to face the entire group as a whole, though his eyes first locked with Chatterbox as if to answer the man's own question.
"We have more business for this evening."The Broker strode back to the table with purpose in his steps. Once he had reached his seat, the man crouched down, rather than sitting, only to rise again with a briefcase. The case itself appeared ordinary, just your standard brown briefcase with a standard flip-latch. The Broker placed the briefcase upon the table, then opened it for everyone's viewing pleasure. Inside sat a manila envelope, a standard white letter envelope, and a picture of a
young man wearing a poncho and sombrero. The Broker placed the picture at the center of the table for all to see clearly.
"I have two missions for you before tomorrow evening. The first is less a mission, and more of an errand, really. As always, you may feel free to accept or reject any job offered. This man is known as Arsenal, and I intend him to be the fifth member of this little team I have established." Almost lazily he waved his left arm in a sweeping motion, gesturing for the entire group.
"Arsenal is a tinker, and though my information has yet to provide me with his specialty, I believe his talents could prove to be invaluable. According to certain sources that are to remain confidential, Arsenal has arrived in this city very recently. I would appreciate it if you would track him down, then present him with this invitation."The Broker held up the white letter envelope, then set it down on the table next to the picture of the tinker.
"There's no payment for this, beyond the ability to make a new friend and establish a good first impression. As I said, it's more of an errand, and I can easily ensure it's completed if you deny any participation. The real job, you will find detailed here." The Englishman gestured to the manila envelope, unsealed it, and left it on the table. He then latched up the briefcase once more, straightened his suit blazer, produced a gray newsboy cap from someplace, and strode toward the exit. He stopped only momentarily, just before ascending the stairs out, to turn back around.
"If there are no further questions, then I shall be taking my leave. I have many pet projects to oversee."
Leaves