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PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2016 10:09 pm 

You have nothing to fear, But Fear himself

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Midnight

Dimitri was waiting for his replacement to come and relive him of the DJ table, he figured he had time for one more track so he put it on. The song played the people danced, it was a regular night for a DJ. Women came to the booth and slipped him there number, then he'd throw them away. He wasn't into the whole get laid because your a bit famous stuff. After the song ended his replacement still Wasn't there, so he went to put on another track as he was about to play it, the replacement showed up he traded off the walked to his car. He had be stalking a major gang for awhile, he got dressed in his hero outfit the went to the location to scout it out.

Three AM

Legion had found himself on a roof overlooking what seemed to be a major drug deal. There was always someone on the roof top when there was a major drug deal. Just in case something went wrong they could easily take out anyone on the ground who ran behind cover. Standard tactic, but the guy on the roof meet a inconvenience and found himself knocked out. Down below there seemed to be at least twelve men six on each side of the alley. If he was smart he'd be able to bring that number down a bit before he was found out. He studied them for a bit, now all that was left to do was wait for a opening. He saw one so he took it, He pulled his Suppressend M9's before firing several shots at the men towards the back of each side of the alley. No one had any idea he was there. "Four down, eight to go." He thought to himself. He made quick work of the other Eight before going to check out the scene, when he arrived he noticed a blood trail and followed it. It seemed that one of the men lived well he would fix that mistake. The echo of his footsteps made the man turn around, he then said. "Who the Hell are you?" Legion responded, "We are one, We are many, We are Legion." legion pulled his arm up and pointed his gun at the man's head.

*Fade to Black*

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2016 12:11 pm 
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Cindy sat behind the desk at the small book store she worked at. Her short hair was covered up with a grey beanie, she wore a grey tank top and a red flannel over it, ripped jeans over her legs, and simple tennis shoes. This was what she normally wore, she found it to be comfy. Her eyes looked up at the bell ringing, a guy stepped into the store, took a single glance at her, and then went to the back rows of books. 'He's nice looking...' Striker purred in Cindy's mind.
The guy was tall with broad shoulders and a tan, he showed off multiple tattoos and piercings, his hair surprisingly was not dyed a unnatural color but instead hung past his ears in blond layers. 'For you maybe, but he's not my type.' Cindy thought. Her own type would have been someone in a uniform, your maybe suit and tie, someone who has a good job.
The guy soon came up and purchased a book, and without a second glance he left. Striker sighed lightly inside, while Cindy was relieved she hadn't done anything embarrassing. Most days went like this.

----

It was later that night that Striker took control when she heard the police scanner buzz to like, "We got a 10-31," that was static for a moment before if buzzed to life again, "Now a 10-32." Striker grinned knowing the codes by heart now, running to the closet and quickly dressing into her outfit. She and Cindy had picked it together, 'Oh, Cindy-Lou-Who (A nick-name given to Cindy from Striker) wake up, we have a crime in progress, a guy with a gun!
Striker could mentally feel Cindy stir away as she sneaked out the window and began to travel in the directions of sirens.
Be careful, this is my body too you know.
Striker rolled her eyes as she arrived to the scene, the cop car was slowly patrolling the streets looking for the guy. She caught sight of the guy running down an ally way, and in the blink of an eye she took off after the guy. She giggled at the fun of the chase, and soon caught up with the guy who had taken a wrong turn into a dead end.
Once he caught sight of them he aimed, "I'll shoot!"
Striker let out what seemed like a growl, "Do it baby, show us how good your aim is."
The guy pulled the trigger, just barely missing her. It caught her off guard, she didn't think he would actually do it, but she didn't let her shock show. Instead she pulled out her tazer, "To bad you missed us, hope you like the big house." She shot and watched as the guy went down like a bag of rocks. She stalked forward, the guy was still awake just stunned, and if she was to move him with out him being able to hurt her he needed to be asleep. She took the butt of her tazer and hit him in the head, the guys eyes rolled back and she began to tug him to the mouth of the ally. Once getting him there she darted off as the cop car strolled back around, spotting the knocked out guy.
You almost got us killed, striker. Cindy stated
But are we dead? No, and I got the guy so no biggie.
No biggie? No Biggie!? He could have shot us! We was nearly shot! Cindy screamed mentally.
Ok, so I was a little reckless, but hey, maybe we can find a bullet proof vest or something. Maybe Dads is somewhere in our house, mom might know.
Maybe... Cindy had calmed down, to tired to argue with Striker anymore.
Striker was heading straight home, hoping her mother had not woken to find her gone.

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It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one most adaptable to change. Charles Darwin.

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2016 12:18 pm 

Neither success nor failure is the end, so keep going. Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.

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Randi checked the clock, it was almost quitting time. She went to the front door and locked it. She turned back around and popped in her ear buds. She turned up the volume and began to clean up the coffee shop. Randi had been working at "The Brew" for about a year. She cleaned off the table tops and put the chairs atop the table. She wiped off the counter tops and put away the clean dishes. Randi made some mop water and as she mopped the floor she danced. Randi loved music and anything to do with it. Randi finished mopping and tied up a few other loose ends. She grabbed her things and headed out the back, she jogged up the stairs to her apartment and quickly unlocked the door.

Randi shut her blinds and pulled off her regular clothes and brushed out her hair. She went to her closet and pulled on her black, leather body suit with bright orange stitching and accents. It fit like a glove and she loved it. She pulled on her boots and tied on her mask. She put her flask in her thigh holster on the right side and stuck her pistol in the thigh holster on the left. she stuck various other things in other spots. Once she gathered every thing she slipped out the back and became her alias. Phoenix.
_

Phoenix stayed hidden under the dark shadows of the building while the night draped the city. She kept a watch on several different things. But a new problem had arose. A couple of teenagers breaking and entering. Once these teens and luded a few valuables, they vandalized what ever store the terrorized. Phoenix followed them to an abandoned warehouse where she watched them boast about their winnings.

"You know, this life doesn't have a happy ending." She confronted them and she stepped from the shadows. The teens became panicked and one stuttered "Who are you" To which Phoenix gave a chuckle "Don't worry about who i am" One the boy drew a small switchblade and lunged at Randi, she quickly knocked it from his hand. She grabbed his wrist and his shoulder and with a swift downward pressure of her foot snapped his arm. The boy dropped to the floor writhing in pain. She quickly rendered the other two unconscious and tied them to a pipe in the back of the ware house. She pulled an alarm that would alert the police station. She knew she couldn't take the stolen good back herself because she couldn't let herself be seen on camera. But at least the goods would be returned and the perps would get what they had coming. She slipped out the back and ran off.

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P.S. I'm a typo queen. Sorry in Advance.


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