Post by Becca Storm on Aug 28, 2016 16:05:53 GMT -6
Becca stood uncertainly out on the street, lit only be streetlamps. She'd been out after dark a great many times in her life, but those times she'd been deliberately getting home as fast as possible, avoiding trouble, knowing that she could have a car sent to break speed limits to pick her up the second anything got out of hand. This time, she'd be actively looking for trouble and the closest thing to hand if she got out of her depth would be desperately calling and texting May, Kayleigh and Isaac in the hopes that one of them could help her. Or that Silk would somehow miraculously swoop in again.
This wasn't something Becca had been told to do. Despite the almost brutal training, the beatings she'd had to endure, and the near constant stream of derision and being told she had to do better, May hadn't made her go out looking for crime to fight. Whether it was because she didn't want to risk it or because she just hadn't thought of it yet, Becca wasn't sure. But she was doing this to show them that she deserved to be a part of their team. Sure, May was nice enough and Kayleigh hung out with her sometimes, but the team as a whole hadn't made a huge secret of their scepticism in her abilities, Isaac and Edward being the most noticeable. Isaac was just an asshole, but Edward was fairly obvious in that he didn't trust the rich girl who, in his eyes, just wandered into the school and was offered a spot on the team. So she wanted to show them that she wasn't just going to do the bare minimum to let May stay her. Sure, she didn't have the tragic backstory or the prior experience they did, but that didn't mean she was going to let bad things happen to people.
As Becca started to walk in her Talon costume, she was reminded of her need to ask May for some fireproof underwear. Maybe regular clothes as well. It meant that any time she thought she'd have to switch her powers on, she needed to be wearing her Talon suit and it alone, and that if she was jumped, she couldn't use them without losing her clothes. Which sucked. For one thing, most of her clothes were expensive, and all of them were nice. Fortunately, it was a warm night. Not just because of her inability to put on layers, although a sweater over her costume would look ridiculous, but because it meant she was at her peak. She didn't have any measurements or really know exactly how it worked, but the cold cramped her style. And everything else.
But really, Becca wasn't sure how to go about this crimefighting thing. Did she just walk around and wait to come across something? Did she wait for an anonymous laptop on her message telling her where someone was robbing a bank? Did she wait for someone to shine a spotlight of a one hundred dollar bill in the air, her secret signal? She was guessing that, seeing as it was New York City, at night, walking around would be sufficient.
And she was right. It only took twenty minutes of walking around backstreets and feeling both anxious and like she was dumb before she came across three guys forcing a woman against a wall and taking her purse. For a second, she froze, out of sight. Sure, she'd come out here to stop things like this, but it didn't mean she wasn't scared. She was watching somebody get attacked. For all she knew, one or more of them was armed. She only had one life. She didn't want to throw it away over a few bucks and some car keys. Still, she swallowed the cowardly impulse. She was here to prove she deserved to be a Talon, that she wanted to be a part of the team. That meant actually being a hero.
Becca rounded the corner, but the woman was left huddled in a ball, and the three guys could be seen running away.
"I'm gonna go get your purse," She told the woman, handing her her phone, "Call the cops." Sure, it wasn't the most heroic thing to say, but she reckoned she had to get the actions down before she did them stylishly. Leaving her phone behind, she took off at a sprint after the guys.
"Hey!" She snapped when she was right behind them, and they whirled. Suddenly she felt really outnumbered, but she didn't let that show in her voice. "Drop the bag."
The guy in front smirked at her, taking in the outfit, and waved his buddies back. He stepped forwards so he was looking almost directly down at her. Becca swallowed nervously as she looked up at him. God, she was doubting this now.
"Or what? A pretty thing like you's gonna take it?" His tone was like a poor mockery of friendly, and there was an undercurrent of violence in it. "Look, sweetheart, nobody has to get hurt here. So why don't you go find a....leather bar, and leave me and my guys in peace?" To add to the threat, he reached a hand to her blonde locks. The second it made contact, she snapped a knee into his balls.
"Unless I'm paying you twenty dollars an hour to style it, keep the hell away from my hair."
She stepped forwards, past the guy she'd dropped. She'd been expecting some more trash talk, but instead one of them ran at her, snapping a punch so obvious she could have blocked it with about a week of karate under her belt. She knocked his arm to one side and hit him in the throat. Her fist made contact, and almost in slow motion she saw his eyes bulge and his joints stiffen. For good measure, she kicked him in the knee on his way down. He'd be back up, sure, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy on him. As she rounded on the third guy, she felt confident. And perhaps she'd have prevailed if the first guy, the one with the aching testicles, hadn't staggered back to his feet and swung a crowbar into her head.
Becca heard the impact before she felt it, a sickening crack above her ear. Then she felt the impacts. The crowbar into her head, feeling like it left her very skull vibrating. Her side against a wall and her legs against the dirt as she fell. Then she felt the blood tricking down her cheek, most of the wound itself hidden by her hair. Then she felt the pain, a sick, reverberating pain that shot lances through her head. As she looked up, trying to ignore the pain, she saw that two of them were on their feet still and had her backed against the wall. Thankfully, however, the guy whose throat she'd hit was still down, and the one with the crowbar was pale and slightly hunched over. He was feeling it. Becca staggered to her feet, and touched the wetness in her hair. Her hand came back red.
"You're in so much trouble..." She groaned, but she didn't like her chances.
((Note: I'd rather somebody who isn't a Talon takes this))
This wasn't something Becca had been told to do. Despite the almost brutal training, the beatings she'd had to endure, and the near constant stream of derision and being told she had to do better, May hadn't made her go out looking for crime to fight. Whether it was because she didn't want to risk it or because she just hadn't thought of it yet, Becca wasn't sure. But she was doing this to show them that she deserved to be a part of their team. Sure, May was nice enough and Kayleigh hung out with her sometimes, but the team as a whole hadn't made a huge secret of their scepticism in her abilities, Isaac and Edward being the most noticeable. Isaac was just an asshole, but Edward was fairly obvious in that he didn't trust the rich girl who, in his eyes, just wandered into the school and was offered a spot on the team. So she wanted to show them that she wasn't just going to do the bare minimum to let May stay her. Sure, she didn't have the tragic backstory or the prior experience they did, but that didn't mean she was going to let bad things happen to people.
As Becca started to walk in her Talon costume, she was reminded of her need to ask May for some fireproof underwear. Maybe regular clothes as well. It meant that any time she thought she'd have to switch her powers on, she needed to be wearing her Talon suit and it alone, and that if she was jumped, she couldn't use them without losing her clothes. Which sucked. For one thing, most of her clothes were expensive, and all of them were nice. Fortunately, it was a warm night. Not just because of her inability to put on layers, although a sweater over her costume would look ridiculous, but because it meant she was at her peak. She didn't have any measurements or really know exactly how it worked, but the cold cramped her style. And everything else.
But really, Becca wasn't sure how to go about this crimefighting thing. Did she just walk around and wait to come across something? Did she wait for an anonymous laptop on her message telling her where someone was robbing a bank? Did she wait for someone to shine a spotlight of a one hundred dollar bill in the air, her secret signal? She was guessing that, seeing as it was New York City, at night, walking around would be sufficient.
And she was right. It only took twenty minutes of walking around backstreets and feeling both anxious and like she was dumb before she came across three guys forcing a woman against a wall and taking her purse. For a second, she froze, out of sight. Sure, she'd come out here to stop things like this, but it didn't mean she wasn't scared. She was watching somebody get attacked. For all she knew, one or more of them was armed. She only had one life. She didn't want to throw it away over a few bucks and some car keys. Still, she swallowed the cowardly impulse. She was here to prove she deserved to be a Talon, that she wanted to be a part of the team. That meant actually being a hero.
Becca rounded the corner, but the woman was left huddled in a ball, and the three guys could be seen running away.
"I'm gonna go get your purse," She told the woman, handing her her phone, "Call the cops." Sure, it wasn't the most heroic thing to say, but she reckoned she had to get the actions down before she did them stylishly. Leaving her phone behind, she took off at a sprint after the guys.
"Hey!" She snapped when she was right behind them, and they whirled. Suddenly she felt really outnumbered, but she didn't let that show in her voice. "Drop the bag."
The guy in front smirked at her, taking in the outfit, and waved his buddies back. He stepped forwards so he was looking almost directly down at her. Becca swallowed nervously as she looked up at him. God, she was doubting this now.
"Or what? A pretty thing like you's gonna take it?" His tone was like a poor mockery of friendly, and there was an undercurrent of violence in it. "Look, sweetheart, nobody has to get hurt here. So why don't you go find a....leather bar, and leave me and my guys in peace?" To add to the threat, he reached a hand to her blonde locks. The second it made contact, she snapped a knee into his balls.
"Unless I'm paying you twenty dollars an hour to style it, keep the hell away from my hair."
She stepped forwards, past the guy she'd dropped. She'd been expecting some more trash talk, but instead one of them ran at her, snapping a punch so obvious she could have blocked it with about a week of karate under her belt. She knocked his arm to one side and hit him in the throat. Her fist made contact, and almost in slow motion she saw his eyes bulge and his joints stiffen. For good measure, she kicked him in the knee on his way down. He'd be back up, sure, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy on him. As she rounded on the third guy, she felt confident. And perhaps she'd have prevailed if the first guy, the one with the aching testicles, hadn't staggered back to his feet and swung a crowbar into her head.
Becca heard the impact before she felt it, a sickening crack above her ear. Then she felt the impacts. The crowbar into her head, feeling like it left her very skull vibrating. Her side against a wall and her legs against the dirt as she fell. Then she felt the blood tricking down her cheek, most of the wound itself hidden by her hair. Then she felt the pain, a sick, reverberating pain that shot lances through her head. As she looked up, trying to ignore the pain, she saw that two of them were on their feet still and had her backed against the wall. Thankfully, however, the guy whose throat she'd hit was still down, and the one with the crowbar was pale and slightly hunched over. He was feeling it. Becca staggered to her feet, and touched the wetness in her hair. Her hand came back red.
"You're in so much trouble..." She groaned, but she didn't like her chances.
((Note: I'd rather somebody who isn't a Talon takes this))