| Spectral and the Doctor |
| Summary: | A power-outage in Old Gotham has looters out, and a lone Doctor Mid-Nite struggling to deal with them all. The 'nite' is saved by the appearance of Spectral, who enlightens some criminals with the consequences of their choices… |
| Date: | (2014-06-29) |
| Related: |
None |
| NPCs: | None |
| Scene Runner: |
None |
| Social/Plot: | Social |
| Players: |
It is starting to get late in the evening, and Old Gotham is more enshrouded in darkness than usual.
A major power outage across this section of the city has seen to that. Several of the local bars have been forced to resort to back-up generators, while customers try to somehow enjoy their night without having to cut it short. Most of the stores and galleries in an entire block of old, 'heritage' buildings have already closed while police keep an eye on things.
All is not well. There is simply too much darkness and not enough cops for the police department to be everywhere, watching everything. Burglars have already struck some of the more 'out of the way' cafes, and muggings have increased significantly in the last hour. It is only a matter of time before someone (or a group of someones) tries something big -- and stupid -- like taking out a gallery, or raiding one of the best bakeries in the city.
That is why Doctor Mid-Nite is here at least. The cowled man crouches at the edge of a three-storey building (the old city hall), watching four potential looters that seem to be making for one of the cafes.
An owl flies overhead, silently.
Having heard about the power outage, and nothing really going on Metropolis at the moment, Spectral soars over Old Gotham silently, attempting to help out any manner that he can. He doesn't exactly blend in or go in convert mode, the brilliant yellow flames from his sheath light up the sky nearly as bright as a fire in the darkest of nights. High in the air he comes to a slow drift and then a complete stop as he too notices the four looters. His flames whip around him as he holds in the air watching them. He has yet to notice Doc Mid-Nite, though the owl in Gotham does catch his notice. "Interesting." He says, though his attention is quickly returned to the looters.
"...aw, c'mon!" one of the four looters exclaims as they stop outside a shop that is already locked up. He holds up a bottle of alcohol, with a home-made wick sticking out of it. A molotov cocktail. "Just one more, yeah? C'mon -- I ain't got nuthin' but loose change from the last two places. I want some FUN. Let's like this shit up!" One of his friends steps in front of him. "You know cops're about ta head down here sooner or later..." he tries to caution.
"Nah," says the first. "They got their hands full two streets back -- I lit up the last bar to keep 'em busy before I caught up with you."
"What, fire?" asks a third.
"Shhh!" says the fourth, pointing up at the sky -- at a brilliant streak of yellow light. "'Sat a... star? That, right there! Put that bottle down 'n look!"
From the rooftop, Mid-Nite looks upward in Spectral's direction and then zooms in with his goggles. He hmms, and turns back toward the quartet of young adults below, then in the direction of a plume of smoke rising from the aforementioned bar.
"Don't know, don't care," the first thug replies, and he puts a cigarette light to the wick, humming 'We didn't start the fire...' Doctor Mid-Nite stands, glancing from the boys to the already burning building two streets away. What to do?
He turns his attention to the fire burning building and then looters. He glances down to where Doc Mid-Nite is and sighs. "F**k me.." He flies up into the air higher as he floats into the air. In the distance there is a soft rumble of thunder. His flames start to pulse more vivid then ebbs to a dimmer. The oscilating pattern seems to be causing the clouds to start to form around him, the air pressure dropping significantly, as it starts to cause a storm to burst out of practically nowhere. He doesn't seem to be doing anything more than concentrating on the storm. The pressure keeps dropping as the rain slowly starts to come down harder and harder.
After the rain starts to come down in a sufficient form, Spectral stops concentrating, the pressure slowly starts to raise, but the rain seems to be holding for now... He swirls downward a bit closer to the group, bringing him nearly twenty feet above where Doc Mid-Nite is perched. He glances down and then over at the fire. He's torn at the moment. "Just a few more minutes and that fire will be out.." He says to himself, keeping an eye on the fires.
The wick of the molotov cocktail almost bursts into flame when droplets of water strike the cigarette lighter. The youth holding the bottle swears and tries to look upward, getting rain in his eyes. "Aww, what?! What's with the pissin' down, tonight? 'Ssupposed ta be clear!" And he goes back to trying to light the cocktail again, while his friends duck under the narrow verandah of the shop.
Mid-Nite whispers something and sends the owl flying toward the burning building, while he himself pulls out a small device from his belt. Looking upward at Spectral, the Doctor gives a mute nod of his head, and then tosses the device down to the ground, right at the arsonists' feet. In moments, that entire section of the street is blanketed in darkness.
And rain.
Lots of rain.
"Hey! Is that a 'costume'?! We got ourselves a costume?!?" a hooligan shouts in alarm as he starts to lose his sight (or so he thinks). Just before he and the other three are totally blind, he pulls out a small revolver, points it at the sky -- at the glowing star-thing up there -- and fires...
Mid-Nite leaps down into the middle of them.
At the burning building, firefighters on the site look up into the sky gratefully, some few of them noticing Spectral, but not realising who or what he is.
The yellow flame suddenly flares up into Violet, Spectral drops from the sky with a thud, as the hooligan starts firing away, the bullets ricocheting off his body, harmlessly. He starts forward, though he moves slowly, painfully slow. "Stop......" The word seems heavy as it leaves his mouth, "Right......>" Another heavy word, "there....." His movements take him a very long time to even take two steps. Though he seems to be unaffected.
The rain seems to be quickly abating. The shift in colors of flames seems to have changed something in the atmosphere. The violet flaming man stops after two steps and stands there with his arms crossed. "Don't....." He says heavily, "Make....." another pause, "me..." he continues to speak heavily, "hurt....." A long pause, "You..."
"You heard the man," Mid-Nite murmurs from the centre of the inky cloud of darkness as the hooligan gapes at Spectral. The violet nimbus of flame covering the hero eats away at the inky darkness caused by Mid-Nite's 'black-light' bomb, gradually restoring some degree of illumination to the street corner. The shooter attempts to fire the revolver again, but Mid-Nite is quicker -- he touches the youth at the neck with the fingertips of his gauntleted hands... and the boy slumps unconscious to the ground.
The remaining three take that moment to try and flee, but the darkness combined with a violet-glowing superhero causing two of them to collide with each other. The last one -- carrying the molotov cocktail in his hand -- makes a break for the far side of the street, trying to light the makeshift bomb as he goes. Mid-Nite drops into a spin to further impede the two that bumped heads. He shifts his cowled gaze toward Spectral.
"You're just what the doctor ordered," he murmurs with a smirk. "Would you mind bringing that one down?"
A slow nod is given as the violet flames suddenly start to swirl yellow again, the man lifts into the air as he darts forward from his dead stop, lashing out two ribbons of heightened air density which cuts the concrete on the ground in an "X" pattern in front of the man. "Stop right there." He swings up into the air and moves a hand forward as the air around the guy swirls kicking up the dust from the street. The yellow glowing Spectral stops hovering over the man. "Time to knock out for the night, honey." He says with a snap of his finger as there is a sudden rush of air as the man gasps and then collapses on the ground. He turns around and slowly drifts over toward Doc Mid-Nite. "I don't know about that, sir. But I'm glad that I could help." He says. Mid-Nite might not be able to see the brilliance of his yellow flame, but this form seems have an aura of whipping winds and breezes about it. "I'm Spectral. I figured Gotham needed a bit of help tonight. I heard it on the news over in Metropolis."
"A moment," Doctor Mid-Nite remarks, with a raised hand. He pauses for just a second, his visored eyes studying Spectral, and then he deftly reaches out to grab the last two looters by the neck. A second later, dosed with the same drug given to the gun-toting youth, all four are unconscious. But unharmed.
Mid-Nite lets out a breath and rises to his feet, again staring through his goggles at the man as if trying to make sense of him. "Doctor Mid-Nite," he replies politely. "It is a pleasure, Spectral." He sudden snorts a short chuckle. "An apt name, I must admit." He smiles without elaborating, then goes on to say: "I would love to stay and chat, but it appears Old Gotham is in for a long night of 'fell deeds', tonight. I could certainly use the help. Afterward, I know someone who brews an especially good beer -- and makes a good breakfast, depending how long looking after all this takes."
He glances aside, as though studying something behind his cowl, then he looks again at Spectral. "I have eyes on another looting, three street away. Want to come?"
He moves up into the air and spirals around. "I would, but I've got some guys further down the street. As fun as this has been, hun. I think Gotham needs us apart tonight." He grins and offers a flash of yellow flame before he spirals up into the air swirls down the street, with a near sonic boom. He grins to himself, "Doc Mid-Nite... Cute." He smirks to himself. Meanwhile he gets his head back into the game... There is crime afoot!
END TRANSMISSION
