Epic IC - New York City Freeplay

[Michale CS]

Wilson Fisk

I've had the young man brought into my office. He looks bored and a bit confused.

"Good Morning Mister Carlton, do you know who I am ?

"I've had you brought to my prison facility. "

@Michale CS

"Yeah. The dude a blind lawyer took down with an envelope. What of it?" He said with a shrug.

@Gands

 

[Gands]

Wilson Fisk

Hmmn, I was led to believe you were smarter than this. Unfortunate, guards, take this man back to solitary and help him hang himself.

The big man stands up as if to go.

@Michale CS

 

[Michale CS]

Wilson Fisk

Hmmn, I was led to believe you were smarter than this. Unfortunate, guards, take this man back to solitary and help him hang himself.

The big man stands up as if to go.

@Michale CS

"Wait! I'm not suicidal. What... what do you want, Fisk?" He sighs, shaking his head.

@Gands

 

[Gands]

Wilson Fisk.

" No ?, I think perhaps once they find your body no one would know... or care.

Now, let us start again. You know who I am, what I can do to you. I have a civilized proposition.

Can you get me information ? I don't want things to dance. I don't want you to control anyone. Just normal computers.... and exceptional information. Do you understand ?

If you can't do this, tell me now and you will mysteriously appear back where I found you. Some sort of hole where people like you never come back.

With exceptional success, you will have luxury. Women who aren't on your strings to play with. Exceptional food. "

@Michale CS

 

[Michale CS]

Wilson Fisk.

" No ?, I think perhaps once they find your body no one would know... or care.

Now, let us start again. You know who I am, what I can do to you. I have a civilized proposition.

Can you get me information ? I don't want things to dance. I don't want you to control anyone. Just normal computers.... and exceptional information. Do you understand ?

If you can't do this, tell me now and you will mysteriously appear back where I found you. Some sort of hole where people like you never come back.

With exceptional success, you will have luxury. Women who aren't on your strings to play with. Exceptional food. "

@Michale CS

"Of course I can do it. I just never turned to trying to acquire and sell information because I didn't want to get mixed up with the kind of people who buy it. I've got no choice now, though. I'll need a solid connection to the internet and some very specific hardware so that I can't be traced." He said with another shrug.

@Gands

 

[Gands]

Wilson Fisk

The big man, who for a moment seemed on the edge of ... something violent started to calm down.

"Thank you mister Carlton. I assure you, you wont be disappointed with the accommodations. You will find your situation here much better than what they had intended for you.

My business manager will see you in a moment to get the particulars and I will have something for you to sink your technological teeth into the day after.

@Michale CS

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

Harlem

People who spent any length of time under Cottonmouth's employ knew to expect these. The moments of introspection, when the king of Harlem would enter his chambers and indulge the quiet serenity of an old habit long since subsided. Fingers on keys on a board of plastic and electronics. The keys unlocked music, notes and tones that could slip past a man's ears and soothe his disquieted mind. An outlet. When a deal went south or a negotiation broke down, the first action undertaken was always to sit down at his stool and play. Some under him saw it as inaction. Some saw it as a hobby wracked with weakness.

But no one ever interrupted him. Not unless they had something damn important to say.

Zip must've thought what he had in mind qualified. There was a hesitance in his voice when he spoke, as if he was reluctant to talk over while his employer was playing, but the lull in notes he seemed to be waiting for never came. Eventually, he broached a statement.

"Mister Stokes, ah, you--"

"It's too soon."

There wasn't a lull, wasn't a pause, wasn't so much as a slow in tempo. Stokes' fingers continued moving across the keys on his vintage Rhodes Mark I like Zip wasn't even there; Cottonmouth was just addressing him now, and when Cottonmouth opened his mouth it was Zip's job to shut his and listen. "This shit wasn't ready to go down the way it is. Shredder tipped his cards too early. It's too soon. The Bats, the cops, all those fools gonna be lookin' back across the bay now, trynna figure where all these guns came from."

"Black Mask's been our Gotham distributor, boss. He's got a rep. He goes down, he won't talk."

"He's white. They all talk. Every goddamn one of 'em."

There was no code out in Gotham's underworld, no respect for the rules of engagement. They were a pack of pigs fighting to feed from the same trough. Any one of them would go off to save their own skin on the right day. Cornell's hands kept playing, a haunting melody underscoring the exchange.

"And the Shredder, I know his style. Some Fu Manchu, maniacal laughter-type shit. He'll stay up on ivory tower, strokin' a bird or some bullshit and pretend there ain't nothing wrong, cacklin' at his own shadow like everything's going according to plan. Us, we can't afford to make that kinda mistake. So here's what I'm thinkin'."

He sniffed, furrowing his eyebrows momentarily.

"You know I told you Diamondback's been comin' back at me. Got some new sources, apparently, a-- New line of product, been turning the tide back. Well I say we cut the bullshit 'n part the Red Sea, know what I'm saying? I was his seller. I know how he operates. We find his next deal, we hit it hard and we take his shipment. Put Digger on it, tell him to use the Foot we arranged to protect our interests. Next truckload of guns we send over to Gotham, we use the product we lift from him 'steada the old Hammer hardware or MIDAS guns. His product further arms the headhunt in Gotham, we put a word in with the right people... Let 'em know all those guns cutting down vigilantes came from Diamondback. Diamondback's responsible. Make 'em think I'm selling for him again. Any Bats or narcs come sniffing, anyone goes down, he gets implicated. The line of inquiry gets muddled. We get out of jail. You dig?"

Stokes looked at Zip for the first time during the conversation, though he continued to play. There was finally a slow in the melody's rhythm, allowing him to keep his fingers playing smoothly without looking.

"If Diamondback wants this spot back, he can damn well catch a bullet meant for it. I expect mosta this to fly right over your head, Zip, but that's okay."

He looked right past the befuddled enforcer, raising his voice to address the second figure he was sure was listening in somewhere by the door.

"You catch all that, Digger?"

@C.T.​

 

[C.T.]

"He's white. They all talk. Every goddamn one of 'em."​

Aight then. Good to know where we stand.​

He looked right past the befuddled enforcer, raising his voice to address the second figure he was sure was listening in somewhere by the door.

"You catch all that, Digger?"​

He waited for a few seconds before replying. "Every word. And I do mean every word." He snickered, remaining where he was leaning against the wall just by the door. "Ya know how it is. Get used to just looking out for number one, and to do that ya gotta keep yerself aware of the situation. Now, apart from your pretty decent piano skill, what I heard is you lookin' out for number one too. The action hitting the streets just across the bay, ya ain't ready for it. Not by a long shot. So ya want to back out discreetly, minimize the shitstorm on yer end. Steal from another gun-runner, sub in his weapons and let whoever's investigating follow the trail right to Diamondback. Easy stuff, that. I ain't got no problem with it. Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, that's what I'm all about." Digger paused, finally stepping away from the wall.

"Thing is, ya expect one of the Bats to accept that put-up job? I can almost guarantee they won't. Cops? Sure, ya probably got a few on the payroll, some will have bigger things to deal with and others still just happy to clock in and clock out with no fucks given. But the Bats...they don't do what they do for the cash. They're smart and stubborn. And they're not the only players around. That one man army dedicated to ending as many criminals' lives as he can. Castle. Hell, he might be hitting some shipments himself right now as we're talkin, arm himself up further and get some answers simultaneously, eh?"

@OrlandoBloomers​

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

Aight then. Good to know where we stand.​

He waited for a few seconds before replying. "Every word. And I do mean every word." He snickered, remaining where he was leaning against the wall just by the door. "Ya know how it is. Get used to just looking out for number one, and to do that ya gotta keep yerself aware of the situation. Now, apart from your pretty decent piano skill, what I heard is you lookin' out for number one too. The action hitting the streets just across the bay, ya ain't ready for it. Not by a long shot. So ya want to back out discreetly, minimize the shitstorm on yer end. Steal from another gun-runner, sub in his weapons and let whoever's investigating follow the trail right to Diamondback. Easy stuff, that. I ain't got no problem with it. Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, that's what I'm all about." Digger paused, finally stepping away from the wall.

"Thing is, ya expect one of the Bats to accept that put-up job? I can almost guarantee they won't. Cops? Sure, ya probably got a few on the payroll, some will have bigger things to deal with and others still just happy to clock in and clock out with no fucks given. But the Bats...they don't do what they do for the cash. They're smart and stubborn. And they're not the only players around. That one man army dedicated to ending as many criminals' lives as he can. Castle. Hell, he might be hitting some shipments himself right now as we're talkin, arm himself up further and get some answers simultaneously, eh?"

@OrlandoBloomers​

"I don't pay for musings, mister Harkness. Way I remember it your way of thinking gotchu locked up, and... beholden to a government hack. Do what I tell you to."

His dismissal was simple, direct and obstinately unyielding, Cornell's chief attention returning to his keyboard as his melody continued to play. Zip had backed away from the discussion, slinking away to flank the wall near the ever-watchful Biggie photo that held sway over the office space. "The Batman stays inside his territory. Ain't nobody gonna be hiking out from Gotham to get down in my business if I cover our tracks. That's what this is. And inter-department cooperation? From the police? Nigga, please."

He laughed, nose wrinkling in pure mirth as he shook his head. "Pigs are just gangs 'wear a different color. I'm not a priority for the Gotham police, and that whole godforsaken city ain't a priority for the bitches in blue here. Those wires cross, we make sure it points back to Diamondback. That's all there is to it. If not... we'll see."

Abruptly, he stood up. The cuffs on his suit were buttoned up as he paced casually across the room, and when he reached Digger he leaned over and gripped the man's arm. When he spoke again it was in a low, dangerous tone, his lips clearly enunciating every word.

"I don't back out. Gotham was never my stake. I do this, I cover Shredder's ass as well as mine. Don't make that mistake again."

@C.T.​

 

[C.T.]

"I don't pay for musings, mister Harkness. Way I remember it your way of thinking gotchu locked up, and... beholden to a government hack. Do what I tell you to."

His dismissal was simple, direct and obstinately unyielding, Cornell's chief attention returning to his keyboard as his melody continued to play. Zip had backed away from the discussion, slinking away to flank the wall near the ever-watchful Biggie photo that held sway over the office space. "The Batman stays inside his territory. Ain't nobody gonna be hiking out from Gotham to get down in my business if I cover our tracks. That's what this is. And inter-department cooperation? From the police? Nigga, please."

He laughed, nose wrinkling in pure mirth as he shook his head. "Pigs are just gangs 'wear a different color. I'm not a priority for the Gotham police, and that whole godforsaken city ain't a priority for the bitches in blue here. Those wires cross, we make sure it points back to Diamondback. That's all there is to it. If not... we'll see."

Abruptly, he stood up. The cuffs on his suit were buttoned up as he paced casually across the room, and when he reached Digger he leaned over and gripped the man's arm. When he spoke again it was in a low, dangerous tone, his lips clearly enunciating every word.

"I don't back out. Gotham was never my stake. I do this, I cover Shredder's ass as well as mine. Don't make that mistake again."​

Digger on his part just scoffed, clutching Cottonmouth's arm right back with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "That right? Cuz way I see it, I took down three of yer thugs and made the fourth-" Digger turned and winked at Zip. "-piss his pants in a few seconds." He tilted his head slightly to the left. "What makes you think I couldn't do the same to ya, right now? Talk 'bout mistakes." He fell silent for a tense couple of seconds of just glaring at Cottonmouth...before chuckling.

"You are one of the bosses in town, sure. But don't forget who yer talking to. If you wanted a mindless yes-man, you hired the wrong guy, mate. But if you wanted an okay brawler, a good thief, a master of a weapon that can lop yer bloody head off before ya can blink, and the world's best drinker? Then I'll be your enforcer. I'll do the job I'm paid for." Harkness grinned audaciously, clearly enjoying the situation.

"And 'bout that...nah. Bats and his crew don't have jurisdiction. No place is beyond his reach if he wants to find the source of guns being used in that town's streets. Cops aren't a problem by any means, but him and his posse...they are. That said, I always did want to have a crack at fightin' one of them. If it comes to that, I'll step up and do what I can."

"That good nuff fer ya, or are we gonna have some fun?"

@OrlandoBloomers​

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

Digger on his part just scoffed, clutching Cottonmouth's arm right back with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "That right? Cuz way I see it, I took down three of yer thugs and made the fourth-" Digger turned and winked at Zip. "-piss his pants in a few seconds." He tilted his head slightly to the left. "What makes you think I couldn't do the same to ya, right now? Talk 'bout mistakes." He fell silent for a tense couple of seconds of just glaring at Cottonmouth...before chuckling.

"You are one of the bosses in town, sure. But don't forget who yer talking to. If you wanted a mindless yes-man, you hired the wrong guy, mate. But if you wanted an okay brawler, a good thief, a master of a weapon that can lop yer bloody head off before ya can blink, and the world's best drinker? Then I'll be your enforcer. I'll do the job I'm paid for." Harkness grinned audaciously, clearly enjoying the situation.

"And 'bout that...nah. Bats and his crew don't have jurisdiction. No place is beyond his reach if he wants to find the source of guns being used in that town's streets. Cops aren't a problem by any means, but him and his posse...they are. That said, I always did want to have a crack at fightin' one of them. If it comes to that, I'll step up and do what I can."

"That good nuff fer ya, or are we gonna have some fun?"

@OrlandoBloomers​

Cottonmouth broke neither the stare or the grip, his expression perfectly still as he pushed his tongue against his lower teeth and delivered back.

"Second mistake you made in this office today was thinkin' I'm cut from the same cloth as every dime store punk I pass a gun and a roll of cash to. Or that I'd ever, under any circumstance, hire anybody I felt even a li'l bit threatened by. Mister Harkness."

The club owner spat out and prolonged those final four syllables like they were venom straight from a snake's mouth, the intensity in his gaze setting a mood like no other. Whether Boomerang bought what he was saying or not, it was clear the man himself believed every last word of it. "The last man who held your esteemed position learned that with perfect clarity when I deposited him through the body of a black Sedan. From the roof. If you'd like, I'll be happy to step out and show you the exact spot."

Several more moments passed, Cornell's eyebrows raised as if encouraging an affirmatory response, though assuming Digger was prioritizing keeping his fancy new job and didn't say anything overtly aggressive he finally pushed off and released the arm.

"Question whatever you damn want. Make tactical adjustments, use that experience robbing banks of yours. But get it done. Are we at an understanding, mister Harkness?"

@C.T.​

 

[Michale CS]

Harkness grinned audaciously, clearly enjoying the situation.

"And 'bout that...nah. Bats and his crew don't have jurisdiction. No place is beyond his reach if he wants to find the source of guns being used in that town's streets. Cops aren't a problem by any means, but him and his posse...they are. That said, I always did want to have a crack at fightin' one of them. If it comes to that, I'll step up and do what I can."

"That good nuff fer ya, or are we gonna have some fun?"

Funny thing about timing...

1 New Message

[Fieldbox="Snart, Blue, Dotted"] One West Bank: 484923377 PIN: 739273 The magic number is 7 Pleasure working with you. Stay Cool, Captain.[/Fieldbox]

@C.T.

 

[Michale CS]

Placing the boy down the rabbits backed up before just staring at him. Their sizes shrinking and lowering by inches at variable rates they finally stopped toying around before sitting down and continuing to stare at him. One of their heads rotated around unnaturally before another took its entire head off and rolled it to the boy. The third one just laughed before falling backwards and shattering into pieces. The other two stood up and began to put him together again.

"They're you." Billy said, looking at the rabbits then back to Azalia. "They're what you think about doing but don't do. I wonder what would happen if you thought like they did in Peter Pan?" That was an exceptionally astute observation for a twelve year old. And though the Green was mainly concerned with plant life, Billy grew up in New York, where sidewalk trees and Central Park was all there was, so it sort of... adapted some to let him know more about life in general and its energies.

Stargirl had excused herself during the exchange, but in her place was Callisto.

"You and I, we didn't get off to the best start, I think." The lilt to her voice casual and content. "But if you and your little pets are going to be stayin here for any length of time, I think we need to change that." She stepped into the room and leaned against the wardrobe.

"Being different, and people dealing with that, well, I been working with that m' whole life. Seen things, good and bad, worked through them all. Helped a lot of other folks work through them all. Ya think that you are the only person in the world like you and guess what? You're right. Even if the only way you could make rabbits appear is if you drew em on a page, you'd still be right. So I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through. No one does. No one can. But what I can do is tell you I been through something similar, and helped dozens of people like us go through their own things. It ain't always easy, Hell it ain't even just hard sometimes, but we'll get through it, if you stick with me." She walked over to Azalia and stuck out a hand for a shake.

Then, a slow clap came from the doorway. There was Stick. "I see that she's not ready for my lessons yet. At least, not until she finishes yours, Callisto."

"Ain't too many people that can creep up on me like that, Stick. You're lucky I'm in a good mood or that stick might be somewhere you wouldn't appreciate it right now."

Stick chuckled. "We'll have time for pillow talk later, Callisto. I'll be in the kitchen. I feel in need of a sandwich."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"And no sticking your fingers in the damned peanut butter this time, Stick! I know that was you last time!"

"Sorry, girl. We got interrupted. We got a deal?" This time, what the hell? She opened her arms to accept a hug instead of a handshake. This damned girl got me feeling all sentimental, shit.

@Angelic Fusion

 

[C.T.]

Cottonmouth broke neither the stare or the grip, his expression perfectly still as he pushed his tongue against his lower teeth and delivered back.

"Second mistake you made in this office today was thinkin' I'm cut from the same cloth as every dime store punk I pass a gun and a roll of cash to. Or that I'd ever, under any circumstance, hire anybody I felt even a li'l bit threatened by. Mister Harkness."

The club owner spat out and prolonged those final four syllables like they were venom straight from a snake's mouth, the intensity in his gaze setting a mood like no other. Whether Boomerang bought what he was saying or not, it was clear the man himself believed every last word of it. "The last man who held your esteemed position learned that with perfect clarity when I deposited him through the body of a black Sedan. From the roof. If you'd like, I'll be happy to step out and show you the exact spot."

Several more moments passed, Cornell's eyebrows raised as if encouraging an affirmatory response, though assuming Digger was prioritizing keeping his fancy new job and didn't say anything overtly aggressive he finally pushed off and released the arm.

"Question whatever you damn want. Make tactical adjustments, use that experience robbing banks of yours. But get it done. Are we at an understanding, mister Harkness?"

@C.T.​

Funny thing about timing...

1 New Message

[Fieldbox="Snart, Blue, Dotted"] One West Bank: 484923377 PIN: 739273 The magic number is 7 Pleasure working with you. Stay Cool, Captain.[/Fieldbox]

@C.T.

At the buzz of his phone, his left hand scooped it right out of his jacket pocket and thumbed his password in. A quick lookover brought a smirk to his face and he slipped the phone back in place. Magic number 7, huh? Hehehe. "I'd say so." Boomerang remarked, fixing his attention on Stokes with a much more pleased expression.

"I just hope for yer sake that ya were joking about not hiring anyone that seems real threatening. Those are the types that'll keep you in the game the longest. How ya managed to stay in this long with types like Zip behind ya is beyond me. If I had to guess, just by playing it smart and being lucky. That's over now cuz I'm here. Ya want to try and throw me off a roof and go back to relying on guys like him, well that's your call but I wouldn't recommend it. Poke fun at my experience all ya want, just realize when yer government required an elite team of criminals to do some shady shit, they didn't recruit you. Or Zip. Or your pal Shades. But they did pull me out of solitary for it. So!" Digger clapped his hands together.

"Ya know his operations, as ye said. Where would I be heading to take care of this? Just point me in the right direction and consider it done soon as I shut your door."

@OrlandoBloomers @Michale CS​

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

At the buzz of his phone, his left hand scooped it right out of his jacket pocket and thumbed his password in. A quick lookover brought a smirk to his face and he slipped the phone back in place. Magic number 7, huh? Hehehe. "I'd say so." Boomerang remarked, fixing his attention on Stokes with a much more pleased expression.

"I just hope for yer sake that ya were joking about not hiring anyone that seems real threatening. Those are the types that'll keep you in the game the longest. How ya managed to stay in this long with types like Zip behind ya is beyond me. If I had to guess, just by playing it smart and being lucky. That's over now cuz I'm here. Ya want to try and throw me off a roof and go back to relying on guys like him, well that's your call but I wouldn't recommend it. Poke fun at my experience all ya want, just realize when yer government required an elite team of criminals to do some shady shit, they didn't recruit you. Or Zip. Or your pal Shades. But they did pull me out of solitary for it. So!" Digger clapped his hands together.

"Ya know his operations, as ye said. Where would I be heading to take care of this? Just point me in the right direction and consider it done soon as I shut your door."

@OrlandoBloomers @Michale CS​

Cornell just split a grin, looked at him... and laughed, walking out. "Ha-ha-hahahahahahaha."

@C.T.​

 

[C.T.]

Cornell just split a grin, looked at him... and laughed, walking out. "Ha-ha-hahahahahahaha."​

"Did I say somethin' funny?"​

 

[Camleen]

[BCOLOR=#000080]Kurt Wagner[/BCOLOR]

It's only been a week… and already he thinks this was a baaaaaad idea.

When he would hear tales of living in America, it was always the nicest of images. Big houses, feasts at every meal, pretty houses with white picket fences, a smile on every corner! He should have known these were just fairy tales, intended to help lull him and his closest friends to sleep as children. The harsh reality is.. just that. Harsh.

Kurt escaped the cargo ship that had served as his less than immaculate transport across the vastness of the ocean. At more than one point he thought the ship got lost, the trip took much longer to get to the mainland than Kurt had supposed. But then, he has no point of reference for that. His plan was rather impromptu, so he didn't exactly have time to plot it all out.

When you think half of Europe is out to murder you, it makes you want to set sail pretty immediately.

But again, that was a week ago. And now Kurt finds himself in his new home. Well temporary home, he hopes. One of the many alleys that serve as New York's connecting paths. At least that was the intention. Nowadays they more serve as hovels, as places for the poor and the homeless to take up residence. To perhaps find comfort with one another, to find warmth for their bodies and hearts. But Kurt knows he can't be part of the little community of homeless here, or so he thinks. He can't chance it otherwise. He doesn't exactly fit in. In his head he has a list of things he's already been called here in America in the span of just a few days. Wanna see it?

1. Ghoul
2. Monster
3. Demon
4. Freak

Nice list, huh? Those 4 words weigh heavily on his mind. He had thought that in America his 'kind' would be better understood, accepted. But thus far, that hasn't been the case. Not for him.

It's night time now here in the Big Apple. A term Kurt doesn't like to use because he loves apples, and he hasn't been able to find any decent ones yet. Anywho… it's night time here in New York City, and Kurt is near his usual hang out. Well.. in the vicinity of the alley he hangs out in. Hangs out, hides out, whichever. He sits crouched on a fire escape, about 3 floors up of this particular apartment building. And across the street.. a mom and pop store is in the process of being broken into. Robbed. A gang of 6, it looks like. Men, women.. most looking young, about his age, he would suppose. But not blue, no that's just him. He watches as they threaten the poor older gentleman working behind the counter, through the big window at the front of the store Kurt gets a good look. But he doesn't act. He wants to.. but he's no hero. He can barely keep himself alive. He hears the little gang joking amongst themselves as they haul the cash register out, as they come out of the store with their bounty of food and alcohol. And the man working behind the counter.. he's been beaten into unconsciousness. Kurt's eyes narrow as the gang starts to slowly move away.. and suddenly Kurt's dark hued form is simply no longer there upon the fire escape.

The blink of the eye, and he is suddenly inside of the damaged and broken into store. His body is low as he slinks along the ruined isles, scooping up a box of cereal as he goes. Oh, Captain Crunch! It's been his go-to cereal for a few days. He hears the worker of the store groaning in pain, but he only glances in his direction. He doesn't want to try and help, he would only get himself into more trouble. He scoops up a few apples, his nose wrinkling at the poor quality of the fruit. He whispers to himself as he now crouches down in front of the fruit bin the apples are still mostly in, most of them now laying on the floor. He goes through them, tossing the worse ones away. He speaks in a hushed whisper to himself "Mein artgom fur einen guten apfel.." he shakes his head, tucking a couple apples into the pocket of the trench coat he's wearing. Oh yeah, he's wearing a trench coat. And the uniform that was made for him during his circus days under that trench coat. He's been on the look out for a cool fedora to go along with the trench coat he stole, because.. well fedoras are awesome. Especially with trench coats. And then he'll go look for Capone or the Maltese Falcon or something.
Once more he slinks along, heading towards the exit of the ruined store. He glances once more in the direction of the hurt store owner, and he really hates himself. He could help… he should help.. but he just doesn't need any more trouble at this moment. If he's found.. he's fairly sure he'll immediately be captured by the authorities, and then a few things could happen. Another list!
If he's caught, he could:

1. Be mistaken for an evil monster.. again.
2. Be locked up
3. Deported back to Germany to face trial for the murders
4. Be sent to an interment camp reeducation facility
5. Be enslaved

Not sure where that last one came from.. but the others are legitimate fears. As he hops through the broken store front window, he speaks softly with a frown on his lips "Es tut mir leid.. ich werde vesuchen, hilfe zu senden.." he then nods in the direction he hears the man groaning, and he hops out of the window with his little meal. Of course not knowing if the police are near.. or some vigilante or hero or demon or whatever.

 

[Gands]

Eden Haller - Psyhawk

"Pardon me Sir "

There is a woman in the alley next to the store. She is in some sort of red and black armor with a hood and goggles. She is wearing matching gauntlets and boots with a solid black belt. The pattern on the armor swirls occasionally seemingly on its own.

Perhaps you can help me ?

@Camleen

 

[Michale CS]

Not sure where that last one came from.. but the others are legitimate fears. As he hops through the broken store front window, he speaks softly with a frown on his lips "Es tut mir leid.. ich werde vesuchen, hilfe zu senden.." he then nods in the direction he hears the man groaning, and he hops out of the window with his little meal. Of course not knowing if the police are near.. or some vigilante or hero or demon or whatever.

Not a lot of people could spot someone that blended so well into the New York night as Kurt.

Well, some people wouldn't consider the person who spotted him among people. "Dude. That guy's hurt, and you're just gonna leave him there? Not cool." He called out toward Kurt, then despite what the police or whomever would come across him would think, the Mutant Turtle did what was right.

He went inside and did what first aid he could for the guy. Granted the man was delirious and once he fully realized what was going on, he would have probably screamed or tried to fight off Michelangelo even though he was helping. Once again, that didn't stop him.

The sirens came close. "Dude, I'll come by tomorrow to help you clean up if I can." The if I can part was just in case there were too many people who would freak out at his appearance being around or not.

Then, once he stepped outside he sniffed. "Bogus. Smells like rotten eggs around here." Mikey headed to the rooftops nearby to watch and make sure the cops got there and the guy got medical attention. He had no idea if the blue looter had stuck around or not.

@Camleen @ whomever

 

[Camleen]

Who:[BCOLOR=#0000ff] Kurt Wagner[/BCOLOR]
Tagging: @Michale CS, @Gands

Poor Kurt.

First he's so hungry he scavenges in a store that just got broken into and someone got pretty badly hurt.. and then he's suddenly upon not 1 but 2 count them 2 'enhanced beings'.

Now normally he's just going to scamper on out of there like a rat stealing the cheese from a trap. But the fact that guy back there was hurt back there.. and he watched the whole thing from a distance.. that's kind of throwing him of his game. As if he had a game.

He jumps a little when he hears Psyhawk's voice, his softly glowing eyes darting in her general direction as he drops his box of cereal and one of his apples. He glances down as he whispers "Verdammt.. mein kapitan knirscht und apfel.." His eyes slowly draw back to Psyhawk as he self consciously tugs his trench coat more closed, as if trying to hide himself in it. She's wearing armor.. she's here to beat the crap out of him. She saw him come out of that store, and she thinks he did all that. Why didn't he just keep his distance and steal from the Wal-Mart again up the street?

But Psyhawk and her armor isn't the oddest thing Kurt will see this night.

He does jump a little with Mikey's call to him… and Kurt just stares at the anthromorphic turtle. A turtle. A giant turtle. Kurt stands a little taller now as Michelangelo moves passed him into the shop. Doing what Kurt should have done. Helping the gentleman. These two must be together, Kurt thinks. A superhero team! Slowly, cautiously, Kurt looks back towards Psyhawk as he once more on the collar of his trench coat, now hearing the sirens in the distance. "Es tut mir leid. Ich glaube nicht, dass ich ihnen helfen kann." He shakes his head a little, as if suddenly remembering he's not in Germany any more. He now speaks English, though with that heavy German accent. It's obvious English isn't his first language. Maybe not even his second. "I didn't do all of zis." He says motioning over his shoulder to the store as Michelangelo exits. "I…" his words fade as he blinks, staring at Mikey as he passes him. Green. So much green. Says the blue furry guy. His gaze follows the ninja as he scales the building with practiced ease, rather marveling at his agility. Of course he still thinks Michelangelo is an amateur and all, but clearly skilled.

Slowly his gaze returns to Psyhawk as he starts to kneel just a little, his knees bending. "I can't help with anythink. I vant no trouble, please. Bitte." And then.. his body seems to just.. disappear.. into a sudden cloud of very foul smelling smoke, it accompanied with a *BAMF* sound. But he doesn't go far. He reappears in the same *BAMF* and cloud of smoke upon the ledge of the building Mikey observes the scene from, crouching down upon the very ledge. His eyes remain upon Psyhawk down on the street, but he of course is wary of Michelangelo. Green.

"Ich hatte einfach angst, ich wollte keine probleme." He says softly as he crouches there, his fingers curling against the ledge.