Of Blood and Justice

"Yes I am," Hannah said, eyeing the girl in front of her. She wasn't in the mood to talk, but she didn't want to give the other girl the wrong impression. That would not be benefical. "And you're Autumn right?"

"That's right," Joshua told April with a shrug and a grin, "How do you like this school? The campus seems a lot better than the rest of the town."

"Yeah, well, see you around Hannah, I've got Chemistry." Autumn said, jogging up the steps into the school building.

"I like the school fine, my sister convinced me not to stay in the dorms this year somehow, so I stay at home, or in my friends' dorms." April told Josh.
"So, how come I never see you around here?" She asked him.

"Oh, I keep to myself most of the time," Joshua told her evasively, sweating a little. He did not want her to find out his secret, after all. He shrugged, "I also stay in a dorm here with my roommate so I don't stray too far from campus."

"Oh, well, maybe we could hang out sometime, you know, my parents own a Cafe uptown, I could meet you there sometime." April offered. She knew she was kind of making a leap from knocking into a guy to inviting him over to your parents' business, but she needed to make friends with some new people.

Autumn made her way to AP Chemistry, she took a seat in the back of the class and began to doze off.

Bushido's cell fell out of his pocket. He was still out cold, blood oosing from his leg.

OOC: Not much else I can type. XP

(I'm sure skybaby will have her character do something to help. If not, I'll send a couple random policemen after Bushido to help him.)

"Hmm... Sure. Why not?" Joshua asked her, grinning at her with a little mischief in his eyes, "It's a date."

April grinned. "That it is. here," she said, scribbling on a piece of paper before handing it to Joshua. "Call me." The paper had the adress of her house, and a phone number.

Joshua nodded and took the paper from her and placed it in his pocket. He smiled, "I will."

With that said, the bell rung and the artist headed for his classes. He decided he could fit in time for a social life, after all.

April grabbed her coffee and headed to her Improv class. "Well, maybe I should start hanging around campus, I didn't know there were guys like that here." She thought aloud.

Name:Alexander Tronsa

Age: 18

Alias?:Drone

Gender: Male

Normal Appearance: Alex

Disguise?:Drone

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality:Intelligent, stubborn,kind, but has a tendency to be self-centered and unintentionally single minded. His opinion on crime is very simple : Killers/rapist= cannon fodder, everything else: Leave it for the police.

History: Alex was raised by a single father, Antonio Tronsa, a military historian for the University of San Vicio. He spent most of his young life on campus with his father learning about the campaigns and strategies of the Huns, Nazis, Romans, and other great military powers.

A few days before the 'Avenger' first appeared, Alex's father died from heart failure. With no immediate family to hold him back, Alex began training. He familiarized himself with several forms of martial arts during the year, obtained weapons off the black market, and traveled all across the country to observe other heroes in action. He returned to San Vicio three months ago and adopted the alias of 'The Drone'.

Equipment:C2 tazer, Interceptor Body armor (black), combat knife, hand cuffs, 6 foot long metal pole (His preferred style is Nan gun, but he is also familiar with bojutsu) , GP 100 revolver, and a AR15 M4 rifle (which stays home most nights.)

Other: Owns and runs a local book store 'The Maine-coon Palace', named in honor of his cat Stacy.

((sorry this took so long. Writers block))

(Accepted. And that's fine. )

Autumn fell asleep in her place in Chemistry, but she wasn't missing much. She began having strange dreams, the grenade, those two guys from last night, That other girl from last night. That villain, so cold and uncaring. All of the thoughts twisted together in her head, giving her a heck of a migraine headache.

((Just out of curiosity, what time of year would it be?))

Hannah stifled a yawn. She was scribbling in her notebook about what she had to do today at work. She wondered if she should take another file, but no. It was too soon. She would have to wait a few days. Just so no one connected the firm to her jobs. A small smile crept to her lips. She couldn't wait to see if that guy did as he was told.

(I'd say about Fall.)

((Ok Sounds good.))
Autumn woke up, but wished she hadn't. Ever since she started going out at night, nothing was as interesting as it used to be, A month ago, she would have been listening intently and absorbing everything, but now, she just didn't care for it.
I should have skipped today, I could have had so much more fun if I had.

(Okay, I have an announcement to make. Starting tomorrow, I won't be able to get on until next Wednesday.)

(Sorry for the double post, but I'm back. )

Joshua smiled a little as the clock struck noon and he headed for the cafeteria. Things were looking up. He had a date and no homework at all. Still, he'd have to be serious tonight. Whoever the mayor's murderer was, he is good at what he does and isn't completely sane, a bad combination.

April headed to lunch. She was happy, she'd met a nice guy, and her classes went well. She planned on getting a quick bite to eat and then have classes, and leave school in time to pick Autumn up from her classes for the day.

Autumn grabbed a soda from a vending machine, and some pizza in the cafeteria. She sat down with some of her friends. They laughed and she pretended to listen to somebody's story about Biology or something like that. They were good friends but she was too tired to participate in a real conversation.

Hannah sat by herself looking over a document. Since she couldn't return it until work, she might as well look it over again. She was pretty bored as well. She rarely ate with people. She liked being alone.

Hope it's not too late for me to join.

Name: Sam Hayden
Age: 47
Alias?: Hammer
Gender: Male

Normal Appearance: None per say. May be a black tank-top or t-shirt, jeans and a pair of heavy boots. Looks like a battle-hardened war veteran, with cold gray eyes and salt & pepper hair. Think "The Comedian" in terms of physique.

Disguise?: A partial face mask, covering his eyes and nose, and black makeup for his eyes.

Alignment: Chaotic neutral, or Neutral evil

Personality: Not really much to say. Fairly intelligent, usually quiet when in public, makes himself disappear in a crowd as best as he can. When on a job, he tried to find ways to twist his orders around, as a loop hole of sorts. Not really a cold and calculating type, as much a, "nothing personal, it's just business." Hero to some, villain to others, lends his gun and skills to the highest bidder, often taking on several missions should they in some way cross. Likes to use guns.

History: Sam's been in the merc game for a while, and while he may be getting slower in his age, he has certainly gotten tougher, able to take a good hit or two, with a mean right hook that can knock anyone out cold, and take a good chunk out of a brick wall. Not a boxing champion, but a survivor and a fighter.

He's been shot and stabbed before, nothing new, but you live and learn, and get better. Either he's hired as a body guard, an enforcer, or a killer, as long as it pays well, it's all good. Never had a wife or kids, most of his family is dead. Having more experience fighting than anything else, the merc business seemed like the best option, so working odd jobs, he managed enough money for a gun, some lessons, and from there, he worked his way around explosives. The rest, really is history.

Equipment: Has two different outfits, each for specialization. Outfit 1.) Heavy firefight expectation: Steel reinforced Kevlar body armor with separated plates for mobility, as well as reinforced ribbing inside for ease of breathing, steel reinforced Kevlar arm guards and leg padding (both shins and thighs), full gloves with steel reinforced hand and finger plates, and heavy duty combat boots (pretty much built like a tank, as he's not meant to be super active); Outfit 2.) Light firefight expectation: Kevlar suit without steel reinforcement. Usually carries two Barretta Px4 Storm pistols, a .44 magnum, Cx4 Storm 9 mm carbine, a type 64 silenced pistol, a combat knife, three frag grenades, two flash bangs, plastic explosives and tripwire. Gas-mask for worst case scenarios. Rappelling hook and rope.

Other: Not much for hand-to-hand, but is a brawler. Often uses items in the environment before resorting to weapons, or alternates. The best weapons are being resourceful and unpredictable, the latter of which is often hard to come by. However, times are changing, and Sam isn't getting younger. Work gets harder to find as new and younger bodies take his place, up beat with the times and an ever-evolving world of technology that is swiftly leaving Sam behind.
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If I need to tone down anything I will, but understand, he's pretty much handicapped as much as he may be formidable. I really handicapped him as much as I empowered him: Armored, but slow; experienced, but old. Doesn't know how to use anything more complicated that a cellphone or a bomb timer. Computer's never were a strong point.

Hopefully, this is an acceptable character.

Accepted. He really is a great character.

OOC: Ok, then here I go.

IC:

"The Mayor, as you know, was found earlier this morning, dead..." said a fairly bony Italian man, fidgeting nervously in his chair.

"Yeah, pretty much street pizza and a pretty sloppy job too." Said a large man, standing with his back to the Italian, "and now you're worried that, being in cahoots with the Mayor, and his little seedy deals, that you might be next...eventually?" he remarked, turning his cold, masked gaze onto the very nervous man.

His long black hair was matted with paranoid perspiration as his dark brown, blood-shot eyes covered every visible area of the room, now squirming with the merc's cold eyes on him, "I have heard through good sources that I may be next, and that the killer will strike tonight. And I have it on recommendation that you are very good, Mr. Hammer."

Sam checked the clock, 5:47, tonight could be anytime after the sun set. That was a long time. "Well, you paid me good to make sure they didn't kill you," Sam said, taking out his silenced type 64, "and fact is, you're a pretty dirty man yourself."

The man in the chair was visible shaken, not knowing where this was going. "And I'm sure the parents of those little kids you've been taking pictures of wouldn't be too happy either," he said, moving in front of the clearly terrified man, "Oh yes, I know what you do, but I really don't care and it's not why I'm here. You see, I've gotten a contract from some people...a little higher up than you, who were very close to the Mayor,"

As Sam fiddled with the gun a little, the man across from him panicked, tears streaming from his eyes, "Look, I'll double what I paid you, triple it! Please, just don't--" "And as it would seem, as you were the last one to see the Mayor, they believe you've become, a liability. They can't have that. And yes, you paid me to protect you from whoever killed the Mayor. And I will, but in order to protect you....I have to kill you."

Sam hefted the gun, aiming at the Italian's head, "Nothing personal, it's just business. Oh, and while I have your attention, just so you know, never pay up front." And a suppressed hiss pierced the tension as the Italian went limp. How time flies, 6:00. If everything held up, the cameras should be on loop for three minutes. Sam walked to the door, quietly opening it as he exited the penthouse, using his silenced type 64 to shoot down any armed guards as he phoned the police from a disposable phone. The number, led out to an emergency operator in the pocket of his clients, who in turn would contact a squad also in their pockets that would dispose of the evidence connecting Marcello, the Italian, to the Mayor, and subsequently, his clients. Funny, Marcello never figured out that the people that referred him...were the ones that hired him.

After he arrived to his unmarked car, provided by said clients, he did a routine bomb check, and finding everything clean, disposed of the phone, proceeding to the car's drop-off point. Procedure, procedure, and this Kevlar suit was not getting any cooler. "Geeze, it was never this bad twenty years ago."

((I would post but I'm not sure what else to post about except going to class.))

((Ok then... o.o))

On the way to the drop off point, Sam turned on the radio, catching the last piece of the news, "Latest report, mysterious fire breaks out in a warehouse just on the edge of the city. The lot and building belonging to Madison and Burbank Shipping Co, authorities are baffled as to how the fire started..."

"Madison and Burbank..." Sam turned the name over out-loud, "That's one of the Mayor's drug fronting sites..." things were getting interesting. Giving it some thought, he'd take a look himself after he picked up his cash. After the news cut off, he switched to an oldies station, but it was playing crap, so he drove on in silence.