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Nov 4, 2007 2:03:27 GMT -5
Post by Moon Knight on Nov 4, 2007 2:03:27 GMT -5
You'd have to be crazy to come up to Hell's Kitchen at this time at night. SMASH!To head down into Midtown at 3am is risking yourself for whatever is in your pockets. It's suicide by proxy. Any rational person would think other wise. " Please...please, no...." The pinky shatters enough to splinter and stick out of the skin like a rib tip from the corner Chinese take out. He stands over him, him being Martin Santiago, and lays a hand against the back wall. " A girl went missing Friday. She disappeared from school while walking home. " He takes a finger and jabs it into the fleshy part that's swollen and bruised, where the rib slipped out of place when he was hit with the chair leg. He pushes in slow. The pain is excruciating for poor Martin. " She was walking with her sister. She's in the hospital now. The man hit her over the head with a brick, got out of his car. " He pressed hard. Martin screams, but a chop takes out his vocal cords and he hacks and coughs instead. " The girl won't be able to retain some motor function. She'll be eating food out of her tube for the rest of her life if she's lucky. She couldn't identify him because there's a probability that she might be brain dead. " Martin cries. His eyes brim with tears and blood fills his mouth. " You will point me into the direction of the man who did this, or I will hurt you." He says. His words lick the inside of fear. His eyes burn bright, blue and white. " This will happen now or I make sure that you don't use the bathroom right for the rest of your life. " ~ He tells him, eventually. They all do. They all do because the opposite is just much more pain. Marc Spector knows how to hurt people. Hurt them enough where they will heal. Then he comes back and hurts them again. Some criminals fear him more than say, The Punisher, just because of that fact. He doesn't kill people. Why? When people die, they can't feel pain. And pain is Marc's business since he was young. It rains. The cold unforgiving city lays before them. It's dark and it rains and the rain water the hood droop over his eyes and d**n the cold. The wonderful blighting cold that makes his blood runs hot. Marc feels alive for the first time in days. The burning in his knuckles where the metal dusters smash against his bones, until after the first few hits you get use to them. The dust and blood and mud. It frustrates him. He loves it and can't revel in it without giving away that last sliver of humanity. " You're d**ning yourself, m'boy. You keep going over it in your head. Just let it go. Disconnect, buddy boy. That's the only way it'll feel right for you. It's the only way you can let it seep in. " " And then I'm a monster. No better than the ones I hunt. No. I'm a man. " " No. " , it says. " You are Knight. " He turns. He is alone a top of a rooftop overlooking 44th. The rain whips and air breathes cold. He is alone.
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Nov 4, 2007 6:45:57 GMT -5
Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Nov 4, 2007 6:45:57 GMT -5
Hell's kitchen. A place that didn't request, but demanded your respect, your awe. The worst kind of people lived in the Kitchen, the kind that even put those that went bump in the night on alert. Bloody Vicious usually only traveled with Pitbull, his large enforcer, but even he knew that the place was dangerous, that if he gave it a chance it would chew him up and spit him out just like any other man, whether they be rich, poor, wretched or just. He knew the city, the people just did not care. That was why he loved this part so much. What better place to prove your worth? Where else could one go through a the metaphoric baptism fire save for Hell's Kitchen?
The men flanked Vicious, the only way one could see him was if they had been looking from above. The large man, Pitbull obstructed view from the front, while George, Marks and Lawler gathered around the rear. The normally boisterous, thingyy men were quiet. They knew that they weren't in their own territory anymore. While Bloody's connections could do quite a bit for them, it couldn't save them from a dumb move and a toe tag. That's why all were armed with their own gun, save for Pitbull for obvious reasons. Vicious, while he had a gun, still kept the blade he'd had made especially for himself hidden under his long trench coat, eyes staring right through his enforcer's back toward the goal. They had a lesson to teach to a certain stoolie.
It hardly benefited them directly, but it was a way to earn points with The Boss, and even Vicious could see the worth in that. They had no idea whose gang the man was going to rat on, but they knew that the man was going to squeal to the cops and make life difficult. So they were there to make it difficult for the man instead. Larry. That was his name, Vicious or any of his crew didn't know what the information that was going to pass to through him, or how it affected their boss. All that mattered was convincing Larry that it was a very bad idea to cross The Boss, and to a more specific extent, Bloody Vicious.
Having spotted him at the corner, shivering like some kind of cold prostitute. The man was alert though, also respecting the harsh city. The moment he laid his eyes on the large form of Pitbull, he began to flee. A short lived act of futility, as the large man merely picked up a bit of debris, a large chunk of concrete and hurled it quickly, and accurately at the man. Even then, it was a lucky hit, thudding heavily against his hip and sending him crashing to the ground. Desperation caused Larry to scrape at the ground, trying in vain to run away. He shouted in pain as the metal heel on Vicious' foot slammed into Larry's hand, only keeping quiet knowing that to scream would only make it worse.
"Hello, Larry. Me and the boys just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing. Well, I hope." It was just then when Vicious' face showed any sign of delight in his job.
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Nov 4, 2007 18:44:06 GMT -5
Post by Daredevil on Nov 4, 2007 18:44:06 GMT -5
They call it " Fighting Blind ". After a few punches to the face, the world becomes a mess of sound and sensations. You flail wildy and hope you make contact with something. Sometimes guys get lucky and they pull out a knock out shot before hitting the canvas.
A billy club slices thorough the air.
Matt Murdock has no problem fighting blind. Ever since the accident that took his vision, Matt has been fighting blind against everything the world has thrown his way. Death, rebirths, sociopaths, the lost of a love one. He flailed and fell and sometimes...he struck back hard.
This particular night the scent of fear could not be drown out by the hard pitter-patter of rain. Larry's heart pounding sounded like a bass against the rain's snare. A wild circle drum of sounds that was hard to ignore. The air smelled rich of awaiting violence.
He prepares. He edges over to the ledge. He jumps up. He flies.
Legs tucked into his chest. Forehead meets his knees. He tumbles thorough the cold air as droplets fly down about as fast as he could fall. A hand, one whose arm is holds his legs against his chest, slips away a club. The familiar groove at the end of the steel tube tell that it's hallow. His legs kick out, his head is tossed back, his shoulders spread. He arches his form, throws his legs over his head. His right arm kicks out. His head doesn't need to direct his head to aim, he just listens for the sonic of the rain hitting the fire escape. He falls, but turns his body just so that when he releases the line from the bowels of the tube. When the line goes taut he stiffens, kicks his legs out and twist his body. He throws his head under his legs. The revolution spins the line free of the steel railing. The steel cable whips wildly in the wind. His landing near, he kicks his legs out and lets his feet hit the ground with a click of his booted heel. His body compresses, absorbing the kinetic energy from his daredevil leap and landing just across from Vicious and Pitbull. He raises his second club, a hard steel instrument that breaks jaws and finger bones.
" You two. " He yells across the way. " You two have five seconds to step away from that man and get out of my Kitchen. "
His jaw clenches. A steely determination takes hold. " Starting now. "
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Nov 6, 2007 17:48:15 GMT -5
Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Nov 6, 2007 17:48:15 GMT -5
Grinding the metal heel scraped the skin clean off of the unfortunate man's hand, as well as slowly cracking the bone under the thin veneer of skin. Vicious did thoroughly enjoy this particular part of the job. Instilling fear, respect for him and what was his own. There was no other way, as far as Bloody was concerned. He had to exert force, show others that anyone who messes with the Boss, or anyone the boss doesn't want trifled with, you have to deal with Bloody Vicious. Pitbull merely took this time to stand over him, and look menacing in order to speed up the process of this particular lesson. Pitbull would have prefer to just rough him up a bit and get out of here, not exactly enjoying the Kitchen or testing his mettle as much as his boss seemingly did. Bloody's other three henchmen was on lookout, at least as best as they could in the dark city street, where no one gave a d**n about something like this happening anyway. Just another part of life, their concentration slacked somewhat, as they had no idea what it is that could sneak up on them, with one man on general lookout and the other two looking down the streets, everything seemed clear.
Unfortunately, they were mistaken.
"You two have five seconds to step away from that man and get out of my Kitchen. "
Looking up from the sound of Daredevil landing, all of the men, even Larry took notice, sniveling quietly, not knowing whether he's saved, or just worse off. The gang of men didn't know what to think of the red man before them. It certainly would have been easy to laugh at him, except that he had came out of seemingly nowhere, and that we was wearing completely red spandex. It mostly struck Bloody as odd, why these idiots paraded around like it was Halloween. It didn't matter how dangerous you were, one should at least have dignity. The red figure was not one that Blood, or Pitbull have seen before, but one would have to have been living in a cave for their entire life to not know that some entity infested Hell's Kitchen, such entity was Daredevil, of course. Despite the rumors and stories, Vicious wasn't about to step down.
"Your kitchen?"
With that, Pitbull put the bulk of his own body to block Vicious out of Daredevil's line of vision, assuming her had one. Soon the sound of Bloody's fingers snapping was quickly overshadowed by his other three hired goons, George, Marks and Lawler. Their hands had barely left their concealed weapons, and with that signal they immediately opened fire upon Daredevil. While the three were a relatively good shots, as Vicious had not w anted to be caught unprepared in The Kitchen.
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Nov 6, 2007 18:40:57 GMT -5
Post by Daredevil on Nov 6, 2007 18:40:57 GMT -5
Things never get any easier.
The finger snap was a starting gun. Weapons were hoisted, withdrew from concealed areas in jackets, coats and waistbands. Before the shiny crome barrels met the air, his legs were already throwing him forward. His head tucked in as he hit the ground, rolled and bounced at an angle from a nearby tenement wall. When he pushed up the ground, one leg came up, laying a foot flat against the brick. Gunclaps filled the air, but he focuses on the rain and leaps up with his back leg. For a moment he goes parallel to the ground and perpendicular to the wall before gravity pulls down on him like the droplets currently sailing across his face. He feels the air moves around the bullets as their shot begins to redirected, but by that time his legs have already kicked off the wall and shoulders toss to the left causing him to cartwheel out in the air.
While he flys his wheels back the club with his hand and launches it forward. It goes down at an angle, snaps back up and shoots into the air like a rocket, catching one of the shooters underneath his chin. He's close enough now to where he can reach out and touch somebody. He leaps forward, legs extended, using the momentum of a somersault and plants two feet in the center thug's chest. The last man standing remains stunned, turns his weapon to the right but catches a club on the soft tendon undernath his wrist, dropping the weapon. A hard right cross stifles his sudden shocked cry of anguish. His jaw pops and he goes down for the count.
Same as it ever was.
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Nov 7, 2007 9:20:20 GMT -5
Post by alicia on Nov 7, 2007 9:20:20 GMT -5
Alicia knew she was lost. She had been dropped of at the wrong place, No doubt the cab driver thinks this is very funny. Alicia tapped her stick along the ground, hitting things in her way. A trash can by the sound of it, a box...
She heard someone fighting. Perfect. As long as they stay away from me. Alicia hadn't met anyone on the streets, she didn't dare try to knock on people's doors. She was alone, at night, in Hell's Kitchen.
Alicia swallowed as she heard the noises of the fighting getting steadily louder. She was scared now. Her cell phone had been broken when she accidentally dropped it a week ago, and she hadn't gotten a new one yet. She knew that was a bad decision now.
Alicia froze, she didn't know this part of town, people were fighting close by, and she was alone. Nothing seemed to have been going right today.
She pulled her cane close to her chest and considered her options. Wait until someone comes by, ask for help,and hope they don't notice I'm a young Blind girl...OR find a place to sit for the night, and try to get help in the morning...OR keep wandering, in hopes of figuring out where I am. All the choices sounded dangerous.
Alicia didn't know which was worse, so she just stood on the sidewalk, nervously rubbing her fingers down the top of her cane. Listening to the battle being waged close by.
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Nov 7, 2007 11:35:05 GMT -5
Post by Moon Knight on Nov 7, 2007 11:35:05 GMT -5
He watches and though he did not descend to help the devil, he finds himself sharing a distant camaraderie. He couldn't help but admire the finesse. Daredevil moved like a red-clad hurricane. His style was polished and more graceful than Marc. It made him envious.
" Now that guy that knows fear. " It says with a whisper rasp.
" Look at him. Look how he moves. Listen to the way he talks. He knows how to get what he wants by hurting people, Marc. Heh. He'd made a d**n good solider if he didn't belong to someone else. "
" Belong to someone else? "
Though Marc didn't see it, he could tell it was grinning. " Oh, yeah. She's a looker alright. Fills out that robe pretty nicely. Dunno about the blind thing though. Me personally, I don't think I can get down with a disabled chick. I know it's Un-PC but what the hey, am I right? "
Marc growls. " Shut up. "
His head snaps to the left and he looks down. The rain continues to pour down. The night is cold. A chill runs down his spine as the woman dismounts. " Crap. ", he whispers. " Crap? What crap? ", it says and his voice scraps against his throat like sandpaper. " What? " it asks, it's voice peaks condescending when it adds " Her? "
" Forget her. She's unimportant. What's important is that the red guy is having all the fun! Get down there and show 'em what for, champ? "
Under his cowl, Marc grins. " Uh huh. " . He leaps down, but avoids the melee, landing just behind the woman.
" Miss..." , he says with a pause. " Can I help you? "
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Nov 7, 2007 15:29:00 GMT -5
Post by alicia on Nov 7, 2007 15:29:00 GMT -5
Alicia went rigid at the soft landing behind her. She closed her eyes, which didn't change anything, but made her feel safer.
"Who are you?" She tried to stand tall, and make herself seem less vulnerable. Great...what if he attacks me?
Alicia turned slowly, to face the man head on. She let her cane slip down and tap the ground, just so she knew she could swing it if needed. I'm lost I need the help! Don't assume the worst Alicia. He may just actually want to assist me...
Alicia didn't know why, but she had always been able to sense a person's personality, their essence... She tightened her fingers around the end, frightened by what she was sensing from this man. She tried to get a clearer impression, she shivered and gave up.
Why am I so scared, I'm a grown woman, not a child! She squared her shoulders and tried to look like she was in control of the situation.
"Who are you?"
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Nov 7, 2007 19:20:43 GMT -5
Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Nov 7, 2007 19:20:43 GMT -5
Vicious watched, slightly amused, but mostly and utterly pissed off at what he was seeing. Either this man in red was much more of a threat then he had thought of to begin with, or his men were complete and total mental incompetents. He was willing to go half on the thought. He remained ever calm, behind Pitbull, the only thing he really had to fear was a back attack, or a freight train. Pitbull himself just stood resolute, watching his friends go down under the baton of the red menace before his eyes.
"If any of you are concious, I recommend you stand." with those words spoken, there were two groans from the ground. They certainly didn't feel like being concious, or even fighting someone who'd already shown his superiority to them so soundly. Slowly though, they did their best to stand to their feet. The large enforcer, Pitbull looked back at Vicious, his boss nodding, giving him his own signal. It'd been awhile since Pitbull was even allowed to do much of anything, since most encounters were over with the firing of guns, and while he could certainly take a few bullets, he'd rather not.
With surprising speed, at least coming from a man as big as himself, Pitbull launched himself at Daredevil, not in the slightest worried about the clubs he'd just maimed his friends with. He'd been hit with worse by bigger men, he had no reason to fear.
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Nov 7, 2007 23:03:17 GMT -5
Post by Daredevil on Nov 7, 2007 23:03:17 GMT -5
Big man was going to be trouble. He braced himself.
What he wasn't expecting was the speed that Pit-bull moved. At the signal, the big man was out and across the alleyway in a matter of moments. Had he been anyone else, it would have caught him off guard. His body shot into action. He rolled to the right and came up from a crouch, hands on his baton and swinging wildly, aiming for the limbs. Not waiting to see if his blows were effective, he kept moving, something important to be done when handling bit challenges like this one. He stayed in the balls of his toes. His nimble footwork kept him moving from side to side. One ear cautiously listening for the one Matt deemed " The Smart One ".
" I'll give you a chance, big man. " He said, his voice not wavering as he made his proclamation. " You stop this now and I don't have to hurt or your friend. You walk away now and keep your mess out of my neighborhood. " Though arrogant, his tone was one of grave seriousness.
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Nov 7, 2007 23:10:26 GMT -5
Post by Moon Knight on Nov 7, 2007 23:10:26 GMT -5
He paused. For a moment his words stumbed. " I'm uh...Officer...er...Lockley. Officer Steven Lockley. ". His eyes narrowed. In the distances alley the battle had become more furious. The devil had knocked out three of the goons and danced around the big guy. The smaller man stood slightly amused to the shoulder. His back exposed, it would be nothing to toss a couple of moon blades into his spine. " C'mon, m'boy. Enough with this heroin' crap! Get in there! What's next? Helping a cat out of a !@#$ing tree?! You're my Moon Knight! Not some d**n big boy scout. " . His eyes narrowed. He bit his lip, stopping it from quivering. " There's something going on here, ma'am. I'm going to have to ask you to step away. I've called for back-up, but it's too dangerous to stay here. " He placed a hand on her arm and began to pull her away from the alleyway.
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Nov 8, 2007 3:00:55 GMT -5
Post by Bloody Vicious and Pitbull on Nov 8, 2007 3:00:55 GMT -5
Pitbull grunted as he dove for the man, but instead of landing a blow himself, he was being danced around, each blow not really even hurting him. They were powerful alright, much more than he had expected out of someone much smaller than him, but they were nowhere close to stopping the big man. Every punch Pitbull threw was easily sidestepped, just adding to his frusteration. He was no monster, he wasn't getting stronger the madder he got, but he certainly got much more determined with each strike that only found air. Pitbull also didn't look like he was growing tired, though every now and again he turned his attention to Vicious, since he was his bodyguard, he had to make sure he was safe. "Sonofapregnant dog! Yer a fast one, huh?" he muttered.
" You stop this now and I don't have to hurt you or your friend. You walk away now and keep your mess out of my neighborhood. "
"Hurt me? How? With those little clubs?" Pitbull's eyebrows rose as he looked to his boss. Vicious had withdrawn a phone from his trench coat pocket, pressing only one button on the face and waiting a moment. "Now.". With that seeming unimportant task completed, he whipped off of the coat in question, the sound of razor sharp metal sliding against itself could be heard clearly in the night. It'd been awhile since Vicious has had the chance to even use the blade, usually guns sufficed quite well. Without the coat on, one could still see the holster for his handgun draped over his chest.
Vicious tensed himself, holding the blade in both hands as he'd learned. He knew that stepping quietly, and having any sort of chance of a surprise was shot because of the metal on his heels, they would be a dead give away to even the dumbest thug. Pitbull seeing Vicious withdraw his weapon instead of standing down, once more threw himself at DareDevil, this time with the assistance of his boss. Vicious did not press the attack as Pitbull did, in contrast to his big friend, he was much more of a defensive fighter, merely looking for an opening that he was hoping Pitbull could make, both of them careful enough to not strike one another.
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Nov 8, 2007 8:48:54 GMT -5
Post by alicia on Nov 8, 2007 8:48:54 GMT -5
Alicia silently allowed him to drag her away. "Officer Lockley?" She stumbled a bit on an uneven piece of concrete. The odds of a police officer finding me aren't very good...I just hope his is who he says he is...
"Officer, I'm sorry. I heard the fighting, I know it's stupid to have to drag me around when people's lives are in danger. If you like, I can stay here and you can come back for me..." Alicia knew he was anxious to be rid of her, she could understand his annoyance at her being in the way.
Alicia looked up at him with unseeing eyes. "If there is a fight, you shouldn't be worried about me. You should be ending the fight. I'll stay here, just remember to come back for me."
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Nov 8, 2007 21:49:56 GMT -5
Post by Daredevil on Nov 8, 2007 21:49:56 GMT -5
As much as Matt hated to admit it, he was right. His blows seemed to have no effect on the big man. However, there were still parts of his body that would take down anyone, no matter the size. All it is was as matter of waiting for an opportunity to present itself and strike. For the meanwhile, Matt kept side stepping, ducking, and weaving the blows that came to him. With each new strike, he found himself harder and harder to dodge the proceeding ones. Either he was getting tired or Pitbull was reacting quicker. Only noticably by a few seconds.
" I've taken down guys tougher. " He scoffed, trying to keep the big man off his game, hoping that his taunts would throw a wrench in his concentration and give him that opening he so desired. The sound of a whipping coat alerted him to the presents of his friend. The " smart one " as Matt called him as made his presence known and that blade he was brandishing didn't seem too friendly. Worst still, he was pinned between them. He had to move, keep those two in front of him least one takes the advantage and attacks from there rear.
" Okay. " He muttered to himself and surprisingly dashed forward. Hands balled into clenched fist, he waited for his opponent to strike. His plan was simple. Waiting until the big man struck and take the small window to use him as a sturdy enough object to somersault, kicking himself off the man's chest or shoulder with enough force to fly behind the " smart one ", gaining a pique tactical advantage and hopefully a big enough distraction.
The plan wasn't fool proof. A snag, a delay or simply just the big man's quicker reflexes could put him a spot of trouble. Any lesser man would cowl to fear, but the name " Daredevil " wasn't just a clever nickname. The " Man Without Fear " wasn't just a tagline the Bugle stuck him with. Over the years, it has become something of a mantra for Matt. To move without doubt, without hesitation, and without fear.
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Nov 8, 2007 22:07:35 GMT -5
Post by Moon Knight on Nov 8, 2007 22:07:35 GMT -5
He paused.
" What are you waiting for, kid!? Go go! "
Marc gritted his teeth. " Alright man, just stay here. My back-up'll be here soon enough and he'll escort you behind the baracade. ". It was a lie, though hopefully. There were no cops. There were no back-ups. It just felt messed up that he had to leave a blind woman in the rain while she waited for help. He hit his com device, which sparked and went live. " Guy. ", he said as he began to break into a gallop.
" Yeah boss. " " I need you to call a liberty cab company for a pick up. 108 and Clinton. Tell 'em the woman is blind. " " You got it boss. "
As he arrived, the battle was turned up a notch. The smaller one had made his presence known, whipping out a blade as Daredevil rushed the big one. He had a chance, it seemed, as he reached into his belt pouch and knuckled three sharp moon blades. He wound his arm back and sent it forward, releasing the blade at the center of it's arc. It was like pitching a baseball, which brought back uncomfortable memories of softball. The blades sailed thorough the air and though they struck no one they ensured that his presence was known.
" Everyone in this group has about five seconds. " He withdrew his knuckler dusters and slipped them on his fingers. " Okay. Times up. "
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