Scene #685: E88: Victor and Othala

Owner	Pose
Defiant	BROCKTON BAY 5:39 PM The setting sun is painting Brockton Bay's central business district in the warm glow of day's end. Brockton Bay isn't a bad city. Sure, it has had a rough history. Sure, supervillains had set up there years ago in order to take advantage of a poor, disenfranchised and disgruntled population. But despite all that, the city has prospered. Part of that is because of the watchful hand of the local Protectorate group, but part of it is because the people of Brockton Bay are just resilient. Tonight, there's an impromptu little concert happening in one of the parks. A young man is strumming an acoustic guitar and singing along. A few people have gathered to watch. It is nice, sedate - and ultimately temporary...
Jonothon Starsmore	One of those people gathered to watch the young man's performance is another young man! Quite nondescript, with his brown hair and eyes, and his all-black shirt, coat, jeans, and combat boots. Or rather, he /would/ be utterly nondescript, if everything one should be able to see above the neckline of his shirt wasn't wrapped up with bandages! They're black, but they do look an awful lot like Ace bandages aside from that. Jono is indeed here to take in a spontaneous concert at one of the parks in the city. In fact, he'd asked around specifically for this purpose. Though now that he's here, he's not sure what to do to show his appreciation. Smiling won't help a lot. And if he shows his appreciation with money, it's liable to destabilize the economy because offworld money! He is, however, appreciative of the music. Even if it's not professional, everyone has to start somewhere, right? And he can hardly afford to throw stones, after all. Even if he can still strum a guitar, he can't sing anymore. So Jono is quite happy to listen to those who can, even if they're amateurs. He stands somewhere amongst the crowd, listening and remaining quiet.
Defiant	And it's quiet, too, until someone lets loose with a racial slur. Two people, it seems, have taken offense to the man's dark skin. Just like that, the music stops. The guitarist just... slumps. The man who said it is fairly unremarkable, although he is wearing a fair amount of black and red - red shirt, black slacks. The woman next to him shares his color scheme, although she is wearing an eyepatch - emblazoned with a swastika. Victor and Othala. Empire Eighty-Eight footsoldiers. Superpowered white supremacists. Bad people.
Jonothon Starsmore	Well, that's not good. Jono doesn't quite realize what kind of trouble is brewing. Though the racial slur does make him roll his eyes. Childish, really. And then bloody hell that guy's wearing black and red! The swastika on the woman's eyepatch just confirms it. There's a very good chance that racially-motivated violence is about to occur, Jono realizes. So he steps between the two Third Reich-ers and the musician. "...Cripes, I didn't know they still made stereotypes in your size," he drawls. "Why don't yer two Grammar Nazis sod off, please and thank you, so those of us who /were/ enjoyin' the music can do so without getting kicked in the arse by goosesteps?" Hey, if they're going to throw racial slurs around, why can't he throw Nazi jokes around? He knows not all Germans are Nazis. These guys definitely are, though. What is immediately visible is his very thick Cockney accent. Something that may be less noticeable is that his 'voice' isn't muffled by the bandages around his mouth. This would be, of course, because he's speaking telepathically. It just behaves like verbal speech.
Defiant	The man, Victor, looks like he's almost stepped right out of one of the monarchies of old. Cleft chin, close-cropped hair that has been bleached right to platinum blonde, and a stare that seems both condescending and angry as he levels it at Jonothon. It seems that the other people around seem to know better than to risk the ire of someone from the 88. "Music? Trash," Victor says, like he's correcting him. "Or perhaps we should 'kick you in the arse' to remind you of just who calls the shots around here." Othala, her platinum blonde hair falling around her shoulders, places one hand on Victor's shoulder. "He's not one of the local capes, maybe just a local idiot."
Jonothon Starsmore	"Wouldn't be too smart," Jono replies, crossing his arms. "But anyone who thinks it's a good idea ter plaster a swastika on their face probably didn't have all that many brain cells ter kick around anyway. Yer might as well paint a target on your backside with 'Kick Here' written above it." Make no mistake, Jono /does/ know he's in a dangerous situation. There's a reason the normal people are backing away like someone's just painted the area with a laser sight. But if he can keep the Nazi couple's attention on /him/ rather than all the people here who aren't ubermench, it might give the normal people a chance to get away. Though it's true that part of him has gotten a little cocky. Even if it's dismally so, confident in the unfortunate fact that no one's been able to put him down reliably. Hurt, sure. But when one is missing every internal organ between one's nose and one's hips, that rather takes out a lot of possible ways one can die. But yes. He's actually being an idiot here mainly to keep the Nazis attention on him rather than on people they have an irrational hatred of!
Defiant	Victor frowns, lips pursed together. He's irritated, and that irritation prompts him to reach out and /slap/ Jono. Well, that's not so bad - an Elite can take a slap, surely. Except, as it turns out, Victor hits like a freight train. There's an absurd amount of strength in that simple movement, a disparaging flick of his wrist!
Jonothon Starsmore	See, Jono was expecting a limp-wristed smack of 'ooh you made me mad'. He's kind of forgotten that whole 'balancing effect' that seems to take place here. Either that or he hasn't quite got the message that the same thing that makes him able to tank a torpedo to the face makes another fellow's slap hit like a freight train. So, well... THWACK! Holy crap that hurt. There's one thing that's odd. If Victor's hand was large enough to have also impacted with Jono's cheek, the lower part where the British fellas jaw should be? Well, Victor may or may not have noticed that, if his hand did happen to be large enough to impact Jono's lower jaw as well, Victor's hand would have impacted with /absolutely nothing/ there. But regardless, Jono falls to the ground at the hit, though he's not knocked completely out. He is, however, surprised and rather dazed by the impact. "...Anyone ever told yer yer 'ave a fist like a matured ham?" Credit where credit's due, right? Even to a Nazi. He is, however, getting back up, even if he does have that pained squint in his eyes as he stands back up.
Defiant	Whether Victor noticed Jono's jaw or not, he gives no sign. As Jono hits the dirt, and people gasp and step back, Victor advances. His pristine boots audibly thump over the ground. "Has anyone ever told you to respect your betters, feb?" Victor retorts, kicking out with one of his feet, aiming to send Jono back towards the ground. That, too, packs a ton of force.
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono had gotten one leg under him and was prepared to push himself to his feet proper when-- BAM! Boot to the gut. Jono goes down again. His abdomen too, deforms oddly when it's struck. to Victor, it might just feel suspiciously like he's kicked a man with literally /no abdominal muscles whatsoever/ and he's actually kicked the guy in the spine. Through his front. Then again, with the force this Nazi dude seems to be able to put into his blows, it is entirely possible that this meathead has the physical force to cave in a man's stomach with a kick to the stomach. And... was that a tiny spark of orange-red fire that peeked out from behind that bandage when Victor kicked him? Oh, but Jono has an answer for that question, too. "Yeah. Plenty 'o times. Never works. Because if yer really /were/ my better, yer wouldn't have ter explicitly /tell/ me ter respect yer." He's getting to his feet again, too. Damn, this guy just doesn't stay down!
Defiant	Victor watches Jonothon rise. "Well," he says, "I suppose you must be some sort of cape. Sad. With an outfit like that, you might almost have fit in with us, if it wasn't for your little habit of defending /them/. Othala?" he calls out, and she loops her arms around his middle. "Yes, that will do nicely." Victor flexes his hand into a fist, and smoke curls out from between his fingers. "Very nicely. A little reminder for this one to keep his nose out of what doesn't concern him."
Jonothon Starsmore	Okay so the gloves are coming off then. He sees the smoke and and doesn't waste time trying to figure out what it means, except 'bad news for Jono'. Instead he reaches up and pulls his face-wrappings down. Suddenly red-orange flames with little flecks of static inside the flames wreath his head, and his pupils abruptly disappear. But Jono's not counting on that actually startling anyone but the normal people, who hopefully /run for the freaking hills/ right about then! He tilts his head back and emits a short burst of that fire at the pair of modern Nazis, trying to knock them over. It doesn't really burn like normal fire, so much as twist so fast that if it impacts, one is likely to get a rather severe nettle burn. With actual nettles. Clothing will prevent it from breaking the skin, though.
Defiant	"Ah," Victor says. "No wonder you're so arrogant." Fine words coming from him! "You're one of /those/ ones. No wonder you stick for all the inferior sorts." Victor extends one hand and, with eyes of contempt, tries to extinguish those flames of Jonothon's! Everyone else has, however, begun to get far, far away.
Jonothon Starsmore	It's not fire in the strictest sense, actually. This is probably a good thing for Jono, because it means that there is a negligible effect on the fire emanating from his torso. Which would probably be a good thing because Jono has no idea what would happen if that fire ever went out. He looks confused when the flames, which had been flaring brightly and quickly, seem to calm down some around him, burning more like liquid plasma than the eccentric, staticky fire it usually is. Though before Jono can let those flames calm down too much, he pumps more power into them, and fires another blast at the pair of Nazis standing there. He's trying to dislodge the girl from Victor, where she seems to have attached herself in a modified death grip. And Victor didn't start smoking until she grabbed on, so she's probably to blame.
Defiant	"Ah," Victor says, after a moment, like he's only slightly surprised. "Not fire. Plasma, perhaps. This is a problem." He doesn't get a chance to say anything more as Victor's blast comes soaring through the air towards him, and both Victor and Othala are scattered by the blast, a smoking scorchmark left where they were standing. Victor picks himself up, dusts off his shirt, and raises his palm. A gout of fire leaps through the air, aimed in Jonothon's direction!
Jonothon Starsmore	Jono's not about to tell this guy what his powers are. He wouldn't tell these guys even if he knew himself! "Yeah, 'problem' is kinda my middle name," he notes. And then suddenly FIRE. Because yeah. If controlling fire doesn't work on Jono, that probably means he's not /immune/ to fire, either. So that's a completely valid tactic! Jono dodges out of the way of the blast, but it catches his arm alight, so he has to remove his coat. It doesn't help or hurt him either way, since he's waring a t-shirt under it. And the bandages, though they're very loose around his neck, are still covering his chest. However, while Victor's trying to immolate him, Jono darts in to try to punch not Victor, but Othala. She seems to be the source of Victor's powers, if he takes her out maybe Victor will lose his spark.
Defiant	Othala drops like a rock as Jonothon's fist meets her cheek. That's going to leave a mark! Victor scowls, and he snaps: "You can't even stick a fight between gentlemen!" He throws his hands out and fire leaps, like orange ropes, scorching the ground around Jonothon and hopefully managing to land a few good burns on the man himself! "You are scum!" Victor snarls. There's very people around now. There's what sounds like police sirens in the distance. They must've called the authorities.
Jonothon Starsmore	Well, that's one down, Jono thinks. And then his next thought is 'AAAAH HOT HOT HOT!', because those 'ropes' of fire have managed to whip across his arms and legs pretty effectively. "Augh!" He stumbles back, doubling over in pain as the skin on his arms start to bubble. His t-shirt's got short sleeves, so it's not likely to catch fire unless it's specifically targeted. The legs of his jeans, though, smolder and smoke as if threatening to burst into flames, even as portions of the fabric burns through to the skin underneath. Jono still has some mouth on him, too. "Ha! A 'fight between gentlemen' indicates that both o' the participants are gentlemen. And frankly, /neither of us are/!" Since Victor hits like a truck, Jono will fall back on his own hard-hitting method. He reasons that, if this ubermensch can hit so hard, Victor probably has the muscle mass to /take/ a hit as well. Thus he emits a blast of psychokinetic fire at Victor, this one stronger than the first had been. Not full strength, though-- he's still trying to make sure he doesn't seriously hurt this guy. Then he pauses, at the sound of sirens. "Bollocks!" That's the /last/ thing he needs, is for Professor Cassidy to have to bail him out of an off-world jail for punching other mutants with his mutant punching power in the middle of a park. He swoops down to grab up his discarded coat-- hopefully the thing has been put out. And it looks like he's about to leg it on outta there!
Defiant	Victor is always moving, dodging here and there as he blasts out pyrokinetic gouts of flame. Jono's burst catches him across his platinum blonde hair, singing it, burning his cheeks red from the heat of it. He too, however, pauses at the sound of sirens. "Time to go," Victor says conversationally, and it might take Jonothon a moment to realise he is talking to him! "Before the Protectorate claps us all in irons." Is this a world where shooting fire at each other is the equivalent of a slap fight? Bizarre. Victor reaches down and helps up Othala, who seems quite groggy and unsure on her feet. "But I'm sure I'll be seeing you again," Victor adds. "Goodbye for now!" There are two figures in the distance, now - and they are closing /fast/. Super-speed it looks like. They must be the local law enforcement.
Jonothon Starsmore	In fact it does take Jono a few moments to realize that Victor's talking to him! Between locating his coat and trying to watch his backside for any errant fireballs attempting to set his behind on fire, Jono's mind is elsewhere. However, once he realizes it, he blinks. "Uh... right then." It does feel a bit awkward. Maybe it'll make sense later. For the time being, Jono concentrates on dealing with the super-speeders. Crap, he would have to run into somebody with Pietro's powers, wouldn't he? Well, he's still gonna make the old college try! His motorcycle's around here somewhere. Though given he made specific pains to /walk/ in the park, it's possible it's too far away to get to in time. Jono doesn't have superspeed, after all.
Defiant	Victor and Othala are already gone. She must be able to grant him super-speed as well. As the two Protectorate capes arrive, people are pointing them in the direction of the two Empire Eighty-Eight members. One of the responders is a man in sleek armor, a helmet that hides most of his face. The other is a woman in a firm-fitting suit, covered in a circuit board pattern. Jono might be able to hear a murmur through the people he passes. Assault and Battery - but who knows which is which. Hell of a name, though. No one seems to point Jonothon out to them, however. Well, who said a good deed never goes unpunished?
Jonothon Starsmore	'Assault and Battery' is not the sound of a hero team Jono wants to run afoul of. And that situation was kind of a weird one, to fire-chucking dudes chucking fire at each other in the middle of a park. How he manages to hide with his face and chest still glowing like a star is anybody's guess. He will, however, fix that as soon as he can, quickly rewrapping his face and neck. That way when he drives off on his bike he won't look suspicious. A man on a motorcycle who happens to be on fire is likely to draw some attention, whether or not his wheels are on fire and he's wielding chains like whips. He's going to drive the speed limit, as much as he wants to floor it; it seems kind of silly to escape from one police officer to fall victim to another. Though once he's away from the site, the realization that there are mutants as first responders is actually a comforting thought. That means they don't hate people with powers like they do in Jono's world. So maybe he would have been safe. But there were still people around, hopefully they'll tell the truth about the incident.