That's Jackson in a nutshell as well, but his is less of wanting people to underestimate him and more of he doesn't want people to count on him for anything. And he just doesn't fucking care.
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STATUS: Some of y'all are either too old to act the way you act, or too young to be taken seriously. Hard to tell some days. 2 yrs ago
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Some of y'all are either too old to act the way you act, or too young to be taken seriously. Hard to tell some days.
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School doesn't dictate intelligence or Parker-ness. Jackson is intelligent, but doesn't demonstrate it in school and does most of his learning outside of class.
La Vida: Wayward House --> Lobby
The cold steel of a gun was a familiar feeling for Knight as a nervous voice behind him whispered in his ear. "Just give me the bag, man. I don't want to shoot... but I'll fuckin' do it!" It was clear the kid was trying to convince himself that mugging Knight was a good idea. He couldn't have been more wrong. Knight's voice was almost mocking, as he whispered. "Do it."
The pause was distinct as the mugger tried to discern what it was Knight was trying to say. This wasn't exactly going according to the script... and that pause was exactly the moment James needed. Almost as a blur, the teenager's head jerked to the right while he spun around, his right hand reaching up to grab the gun and aim it away. The mugger pulled the trigger, and a bullet rocketed into the pavement. Knight's left hand bolted towards the Mugger's neck, delivering a swift blow that knocked the air right out of his opponent. Knight gave a smile as the bag rolled off his left arm and his right hand twisted the gun right out of the mugger's hand. Within a moment, the gun was unloaded and at the Mugger's feet, and James was in a textbook defensive stance.
The quick display was too much for the boy, only about 14 from the looks of him. They keep recruiting younger and younger... The mugger gasped for breath, falling to the ground. Knight got out of his stance and took a step forward, but the boy flinched and began to crawl away. Knight sighed and turned away from the running child, picking up the pieces of the disassembled handgun and stuffing it into the back of his jeans. He had an appointment to make, and he didn't want to be late.
James walked with his phone in hand along the mostly deserted outskirts of La Vida. If he had to describe it in a single word, Shithole probably would suffice. Regardless, it was the kind of environment he was used to at this point. His year of running and hiding saw the teen squatting in empty apartment buildings all over the California coast. The teen was carrying a large duffle bag on his back with ease, though it was clear that the bag was packed to the brim. His entire life was in that bag.
The teen's normal black hoodie and whitewashed jeans were clearly higher end, though they had seen some serious wear and tear in the past few months. The rips in the jeans were authentic, and the hoodie clearly looked worn down in the elbows and shoulders. As for the teen's face itself, it was flawless. The remnants of dirt still clung to it as expected, but there was not a blemish or scratch in sight.
He kept looking at his phone's GPS. This can't be the right place... Regardless, James proceeded towards an abandoned apartment complex. His GPS had led him astray before... but today wasn't one of those days. He approached the entrance of the location, unsure what exactly it was he was getting himself into.
Finished up the char sheet, it's updated above. Let me know if it needs to be adjusted.
Jackson Hurley: AKA Slingshot
May 5th, 2012
Location: Hell's Kitchen, Manhattan, New York City, NY
By the time the man in the metal suit arrived, Jackson was pulling down the leg of his jeans and regretted not wearing the lower-half of his suit under his clothing. Sitting next to him was a metal table, upon which rested a small bin of collapsed bullets (one of which was covered in blood). The garage was rather spacious given the minimal setup. The metal table was host to two more gun cases, on top of the gun case on the back of Slingshot's bike. There was a red tool center on the other side of the garage, next to a black RAM ProMaster Cargo Van.
The van was clearly modified upon a closer inspection. The rivets and subtle metalwork of installed armor plating was visible from the outside of the van, along with sliding armor plates installed on the windshield and cab doors. Slingshot hobbled towards the back of the van and opened it up to reveal a sliding metal ramp and a decked-out interior. The inside of the van had a large open floorspace, but was also host to what appeared to be a mobile communications and surveillance setup, as well as a mobile gun rack. Jackson motioned towards the bike and gun cases. "Move the bike and gun cases into the back. I'm going to go upstairs and send down the rest of the shit we need to move over to the hotel. Don't break any of it."
With those brief orders, Jackson made his way upstairs.
It took Jackson about ten minutes to finish his backing and watch the freight elevator begin to lower towards the garage. He moved on to back his last personal effects, namely a case of whiskey and vodka. His kitchen overlooked the living room where the flatscreen was, so Jackson decided to turn on the TV to see if their escapades had been picked up. Sure enough, as the TV flickered to life, the graphics for the news illuminated the mostly dark loft.
"This just in... In the wake of the devastating attack on New York City, it appears lawlessness has taken hold. In a small bar near Broadway there was a shootout between powerful criminals and off-duty police officers. The officers attempted to stop the assortment of criminals, but were unsuccessful. The individuals fled the scene in multiple vehicles and on foot. As of this moment, there are at least seven individuals who have died from their injuries, while fourteen are in critical condition. Amongst the deceased are Officers Tyrel Dean and Timothy Rorick, who appear to have been executed in the streets by a man in a suit of armor and wielding a broadsword. We will be updating you on this story throughout the night as we receive more information." To accompany the broadcaster, a graphic revealed the identities of those clearly connected to the shooting. Jord's power armor had been caught by CCTV, as well as Slingshot's bike and casual getup. Jocelyn's face and Ava's blurry profile had similarly been captured on CCTV during their brief chase. A picture of Alistar's mustang was similarly highlighted on screen. The footage had been secured within the half hour of the incident, almost as if HYDRA had made sure any incriminating data could have been gathered.
Slingshot flinched as he heard his phone begin to ring. There was no point in checking the caller-ID on the SHIELD issued device. He sighed as he muted the news program and took a break from packing up his liquor. As soon as the phone was lifted to his ear, Jax sighed as a familiar voice screamed from god-knows-where. "Damn it, Jax. When I gave you the files to check in on a few of our potential assets because we've been up to our ass in cleaning up alien guts, it wasn't an invitation to go play Avengers with homicidal maniacs! You killed cops!"
"I didn't kill anyone, Mayers... and they weren't cops. Not all of them. Their bodies have probably already been collected. The people at the bar were ex-military, hired by someone to cause some serious shit. Not sure who paid them, but we've got one of the mercs in custody and we're transporting him to a safe location."
"It isn't custody, Jax. You're not an agent. It's kidnapping, even if they are mercenaries... Damn it, Jax, I can't protect you. If the higher-ups find out that I've given you-"
"You didn't give me shit, Mayers. I stole some tech when I left. And I'm not going to ask you to protect me. They'll probably assign Colson on my case, and I can reason with him if it comes down to it." There was a long pause. An uncomfortable silence, which signaled only one thing in Jackson's mind. "Fuck... Aliens?"
"Yeah... I trust you, Jax. Do what you have to... you're on your own. SHIELD isn't going to be on your side, so you're going to have to deal with this permanently or not at all."
The virtual receiver clicked and the air went dead. It was quiet in the loft, a benefit to the soundproofing Jackson had installed. But the silence was deafening apart from the rushing of blood. Jackson was furious. He hastily closed up his case of liquor and grabbed his suitcase whilst stomping towards the elevator to leave his home for what could be the last time.
Once downstairs, Jackson quickly tossed his suitcase and the liquor case into the back of the truck, closing the doors and making his way towards the front of the cab. He didn't say a word, and didn't wait for Jord as he climbed up into the driver's seat and revved the engine. He peeled out of the garage and towards the address Alistar had given him, not bothering to say a single word to the armored individual who helped him move.
Titan Tower, San Francisco
Roy's pleasure completely faded when the familiar screams of helpless civilians pierced the otherwise jovial mood on the Titans Tower. Almost immediately, the archer took on a somewhat serious persona, making his way towards Grayson for orders. Focus on the center, or help pick up stragglers on the outside. Quite frankly, Roy was a little handicapped given his brief assessment of the situation as he peered out at the streets below, viewing Mae and Kara fighting weird techno-beasts.
The archer rushed towards the stairs, pulling out his backup bow. As Roy leaped over the bannister and out into the empty space between the flights, he looked back towards the ceiling of the stairwell and fired up an arrow connected to a cable on his belt. The air rushed past him as he entered freefall, the ground rushing up to meet him. But the archer remained calm, pressing a button on the small box of cable on his belt. He began to slow before his feet gently landed on the ground, the cable burning up almost instantaneously upon the press of another button.
Roy felt almost guilty for having to make a quick costume change as he got out of his van in the Titans garage. It still smelled of feet and old pizza, but it was also home. Roy was geared out in his red sleeveless jumpsuit. While also being stylish in the teenager's mind, it was also designed to help him withstand a punch. But, most importantly, Roy had his compound bow and a separate quiver on him. He wasn't fond of using more "conventional" trick arrows, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Once out on the street, Roy could tell exactly what kind of carnage was ensuing. He darted into the darkness, rushing towards the nearest group of screams.
He was surprised to turn around a street corner to see what appeared to be a school bus Transformer that certainly came straight out of a fan-fiction. More importantly, that mean machine was swinging it's newly formed metalic arms into the bank. Not exactly what Roy expected on his first day at his new job, but quite frankly it wasn't exactly the most outlandish thing he'd ever fought. Arsenal knocked back a trick arrow which was clearly more "archaic" in its nature. As the arrow was released and impacted into the side of the hostile, it became clear it worked just as well. The explosion knocked back the being onto its back, revealing intense blue light and circuitry. As the being rose to its feet, Arsenal realized that he did not bring nearly enough explosives to take it down by blowing it to bits...
The shit-eating grin returned. Roy charged at the being with what most observers would describe as "reckless abandon." But this move was far from careless, as he managed to slide between the creature's legs as its makeshift fists cracked the pavement where he had been a moment before. The trained vigilante swung himself up nimbly onto the being's back, using the being's twists and turns to inch himself closer to the front of the creature. Roy's eyes widened behind his red visor as he saw a large metal fist coming directly at him. He turned his eyes quickly towards the front of the cab, and more importantly where the hood of the bus was. In a last second swing, Roy landed atop the hood of the bus protruding from the hostile's chest. He quickly cracked open the hood just as he felt cold steel enclose around his chest. The creature had the archer in his grasp, and began to squeeze intensely while lifting him into the air to pummel into the ground.
Pop goes the weasel.
The explosion ripped through the cab of the bus and launched Arsenal into the ground a few yards away. The being had been separated into two... and the battery and circuitry had taken a severe beating. The large pile of metal collapsed into the ground. Bits of shrapnel burnt hot to the touch still near the entrance to the bank, but Roy pressed on to retrieve his bow that he had dropped upon being caught. It was still well intact, though covered in a bit of debris. Pretty standard at this point. Roy checked his utility bet, nodding as he noticed he still had two grenades left. He needed to use them sparingly for now, and more importantly needed to make his way towards the city's center. His gaze turned towards the bank's interior, while civilians watched in awe at Roy's stunts. In a past time, he would have engaged them with his mentor Oliver. Witty comments would be had for the spectacle and to "instill hope" or whatever it was Oliver told himself to sleep at night. But people were still in danger, and hope could kiss his ass as he jogged deeper into San Francisco, not happy to be unable to use his more advanced equipment that night.
Nightwing goes NPC. Orders team to concentrate on the center of the city, orders those already engaged in the city to move out and focus on the perimeter to sweep up any strays, await further instruction.
So are we just operating under the premise that Nightwing has already given those orders in the IC, or will there be an IC post going up relatively soon?
Name: James Alphonse Knight
Alias: Knight
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Alias: Knight
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Powers:
Tough Skin: Knight's skin itself is akin to incredibly durable armor. It is impenetrable by normal weaponry, such as bullets. This is not to say that Knight does not feel the impact of the blows, as he still has pain receptors. Bullets hurt, even if they don't penetrate the skin.
Weaknesses:
While his skin is thick, Knight is still prone to mental attacks and can suffer internal injuries. If you throw Knight around too much, his organs can rupture and cause serious damage. Knight's skin can be severely softened by things such as acid, which make him just as vulnerable as anyone else.
Skills/abilities:
Ninjutsu: Knight has been training for much of his life in the arts of ninjutsu. He has achieved high proficiency in Taijutsu, Kenjutsu, Kusarigamajutsu, Shurikenjutsu, Kayakujutsu, HensÅjutsu, Shinobi-iri, and Intonjutsu. His incomplete training has left him somewhat unbalanced. His methods of fighting are somewhat bastardized and fueled by anger, leaving him inferior to most trained in the art.
Bio:
It was natural in the mind of a young James that his "Uncle" Riku would adopt him after his parents were killed in a horrific car accident. The young boy had been in the back of the family's minivan when an oncoming semi ran a red light. It was a miracle the boy had survived, one that surprised everyone. And so James was raised from the age of 4 by Riku as his own son. While James believed that Riku had taken him in out of a love for his father, as the two were close friends since college, it became clear by the age of 16 that Riku had adopted the child to prevent the boy from learning the truth.
Riku was a member of the League of Assassins who inevitably went on to form a small criminal empire in San Francisco. He single-handedly trained members of his organizations in the art of Ninjutsu, creating what most would describe as "an army of ninjas." Among them was James, one of the most promising students. His flaw, however, lied in his immense anger and frustration which would cloud his judgement in life and in combat. Meditation wasn't particularly helpful in controlling the anger, leaving Riku to write him off as mostly a lost cause. He continued to train the boy to deter him from digging into his parent's death.
James wasn't much of a detective, but he was one of the best infiltrators Riku had ever taught. During a brief interaction with Riku, the boy's suspicions were aroused. James, in his sleuthing, managed to uncover a secret vault within Riku's office in their home. Inside, James found files on his father's CADMUS research, including a serum labelled "Knight 431." Not being very bright, the curious son injested the serum given the lab notes claimed it was an "enhancement." The pain afterwards was excruciating, and James was only barely able to seal up the vault and get to his room before his adoptive father returned home.
The next day, it became clear what Riku's true colors were. James was abducted on his way to the local convenience store (he wasn't a fan of going to school) by Riku's men in broad daylight. When he awoke, the mentor attempted to kill his pupil... but the sword shattered as it cleaved towards his neck. By the time Riku had managed to understand what had just happened, James had been free from his binds and managed to escape.
Since the incident, James has been on the run. It has been about a year now that the teenager has been on the run. He's managed to gather some of the finest gear that had been gifted him over the years before running away. While it would be best to keep a low profile, James has never been one to stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. He does what he can to help out those in need, and is rather distrusting of organized crime and government after learning of the trail of corruption that lied behind his adoptive father's criminal enterprise. He was the kind of person who could become vital to discovering what was going on in a place like La Vida, which led to a rather interesting invitation that James couldn't possible turn down.
I don't think my character could possibly be more excited about an order.
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