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Thread: Mistaken Identity

  1. #21
    Okay so there was once this girl who had spent more time in cuffs than she cared to admit and within one day she had been in two situations where it could have been her, but it wasn't and even weirder was the fact she wasn't being treated like it was. Which was awesome. Weird as all hell, but awesome. Truth was Kara hadn't really known what to expect when she had actually backed up the guy's story but Captain Myers instantly trusting her wasn't in the top three. She had expected at least another minute to go by while she argued the point with him or something and well... it hadn't happened. Captain got some points in the respect department for that one.

    An equally quick nod was given in reply to the Myers' ...was that an order? Before she looked back to Dark and Handsome in the chair. "Looks like its your lucky day."

    The cuffs on his wrist suddenly clicked open and dropped from his wrists, a quick trick of telekinesis Kara had practically perfected over the last few years. "Or maybe not depending on what exactly who or what you're expecting. Don't suppose you can give us anymore details than just 'thing'? Like, as in, how exactly you plan on stopping it?"

    Admittedly curiosity had kept Kara trying to pull the information herself as much as she dared but it was all confusing images that were incomplete and scrambled, like trying to watch one of those cable channels on television that your parents hadn't actually subscribed to when you were a kid. Myers would need the information anyway and getting it first hand was a hell of a lot better than some weirdo Magic Mind-to-Telepath-to-Captain Tightpants-translation.

  2. #22
    Boyd
    Guest
    His fetters gone, Boyd smiled and flexed his wrists as he straightened to his feet. The smile soon waned though, as more questions came.

    Thing was the term that he preferred. It was nebulous enough that he could say it without having to picture the creature that he'd been forcibly sent to New York to dispose of. There were some things in life that you were just better off knowing or thinking about.

    “Picture the most horrific creature that your imagination can come up with. Now, imagine what that creature fears. As for how I'll be stopping it... well, I assume it'll take at least ten minutes to reach Central Park, so I'll think of something on the way.”

    A smile, tighter this time. It might have a been a side-effect of the airline food, but his stomach was all of a sudden in knots. Whenever his thoughts edged towards it, his mind snapped away. He could only think of it... peripherally, as if he were looking at it out of the corner of his eye, seeing only an out of focus outline of it. It defied explanation because it had come into being in a world where concepts like geometry and physics hadn't evolved, or had been deemed unnecessary, inferior even.

    Boyd blinked, realising that he was walking as his mind squirmed, that he'd been walking for some time. The sun's brightness dazzled him. They'd left the airport terminal behind and were out on the asphalt of the runway. He held up a hand to shield his eyes and as they adjusted to the glare, saw a jet squatting on the asphalt ahead.

  3. #23
    Captain Dan Myers
    Guest
    "Ten minutes to Central Park, huh?"

    Dan had only been half paying attention; his ears had been skimming the words that Specialist Hawkins and the prisoner had been bouncing back and forth, listening out for anything vaguely useful but not letting their conversation distract him from his own thoughts. Right now, he was trying to work out how he was going to explain this to his superiors - explain that a crazy, halfway homeless-looking guy had assured him that New York was about to be invaded by demons... but not to worry, because apparently said crazy guy was going to have a plan, probably, by the time they arrived.

    If he'd had proper military training, he'd know if this was the kind of situation when he should be contacting local police, or the nearest military base, ordering up a perimeter, or emergency services or -

    All of that uncertainty faded away as his gaze settled on the helijet: because there were certain things he did know. While some conversations only earned part of his attention, others monopolised his focus, like the passionate description of the MV-24's performance that Sergeant Beckett had provided on the flight over. Knowing the capabilities of what he had at his disposal settled him back in his comfort zone, and provided a pleasant opportunity for some subtle smugness.

    "For someone who seems to think he knows everything," Dan muttered in Boyd's direction, "I think you're woefully underestimating how kickass our planes are."

    He led the way across the tarmac, which was more a parking lot than a runway really, and waved a hand towards Michael, who dutifully lowered the ramp at the plane's rear. It had barely clunked to the ground as Dan stepped onto it, ducking to avoid hitting his head as he advanced in long strides towards the bucket seats just behind the pilot.

    His gaze settled on an unfamiliar figure making himself comfortable in the shotgun seat. "You must be our new acquisition," he surmised, offering a curt nod in lieu of a handshake, all in the interests of brevity. "Captain Dan Myers," he added by way of an introduction, grabbing the handrail above him for stability in advance.

  4. #24
    Monty Heller
    Guest
    "Montgomery Heller!" You never would believe someone could spit out their own name with so much enthusiasm, but given that this Captain Dan Myers fellow didn't look at him like he had just spent an evening in a holding room over with the NYC Police Department, it was certainly warranted.

    "Well, Charles Montgomery Heller, but that's just extraneous." He paused and nodded off to one side as the words repeated themselves back internally. "Okay so not really, but I believe you get my meaning." Another pause and he waved his hands to signal the complete wash of everything he had already said. "Just, call me Monty and we'll leave it at that."

    It took a moment for him to realize the rather dour features on Myers, and the girl he had been introduced to as Specialist Hawkins, and the rather shabby individual with them.

    "What? Is the world ending already?"

  5. #25
    Michael Beckett
    Guest
    Mike fixed the Captain with a look that seemed to say yes, he did say 'Heller' and yes, he really is that chatty at the same time. Hopefully, he'd managed to successfully convey the sense that he wasn't happy about either unexpected revelation, and was looking forward to an extremely lengthy bitching session about it on the flight home.

    Now didn't seem like the right moment for that sort of thing; Kara was quite clearly in on-the-job professional mode - which was actually kind of hot, if you were into that sort of thing, and were willing to ignore how she was pretty much all of the rest of the time - which made Mike instantly wary of the creepy pallid guy that accompanied her. From all the yapping Kara had done, and from the handful of pretty blanket assumptions he'd drawn about her based on twenty-something women in general, this guy seemed like the kind of borderline creepy, possibly vampyric sort of person that she'd probably go weak at the knees for; if she wasn't even bothering to ogle him when she thought no one was looking, that probably meant that they were operating under a we don't trust him right now policy.

    Of course, that probably meant that he was something to do with the highly specific and not at all unhelpfully vague 'thing' in Central Park that Captain Myers had told him to prep the jet to fly towards. Fun times.

    "Seatbelt," he muttered under his breath to Monty, turning back to his flight controls and flipping the practised sequence of switches. "You can annoy the Captain with your bubbly personality later."

    "Grab on to something -" he added over his shoulder, as the boarding ramp hummed and clanked it's way closed. The monitor in front of him flickered into life, graphics superimposed over telemetry from the camera on the helijet's nose, telling him just how low over roadways and traffic he could get before he started posing a danger to drivers and pedestrians. The jet shuddered as the rotors in the wings spooled up, blasts of accelerated air slamming into the ground and shoving it away. "- this is going to be fast, and bumpy."
    Last edited by Michael Beckett; Oct 18th, 2013 at 09:22:23 PM. Reason: ...that's what she said. :|

  6. #26
    Boyd
    Guest
    True to Beckett's word, eight and a half nauseating minutes later the helijet was idling precariously close to the surface of the Lake within Central Park, the engines sending waves rippling across the waters surface. As the jet's passengers jumped back onto terra firma, dozens of smart phone and camera lenses tracked their sprint towards the treeline of the Strawberry Fields memorial. Boyd lead the way, slim legs eating up the ground with long strides. At a break in the trees he caught a glimpse of the iconic Dakota building, standing tall and proud above Central Park West. Still standing - for now.

    He hopped the wall at the edge of the park and ran straight out into traffic, weaving left as a yellow taxi screeched to a halt with a blare of its horns. Not looking back, Boyd threw one hand out at the taxi and the drivers air-bag burst open into his face. Boyd shoved a bony shoulder through the tour group gawking at the Dakota's southern entrance and stumbled his way into the buildings foyer, eyes searching frantically for any sign of a lift.

    He swayed forward a step and a security guard, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, put a firm hand on his chest.

    “Sir, I'm afraid-”

    Boyd grabbed the guard's wrist, the dark ink-work wrapped around his own flesh becoming suddenly and inexplicably fluid – slithering over his fingertips and onto the back of the guard's hand. Flinching away, the guard shook his hand and the spidery scrawl fell away. He swore and went for the taser at his hip – but Boyd was already off, running to catch the almost-shut doors of an elevator. He wedged an arm inside the carriage and the door slowly began to open, revealing a pair of well-dressed looking men who went wide-eyed as Boyd staggered inside and jabbed the button for the seventh floor.

    “Sir!” barked the guard, “Step away-!”

    But even as he shouted, Myers and Hawkins were pushing their way into the lobby.
    Last edited by Dasquian Belargic; Nov 10th, 2013 at 11:03:35 AM.

  7. #27
    Captain Dan Myers
    Guest
    Dan was glad to have Kara with him as they struggled their way into the building; or at least, part of him was. Bringing a largely untested rookie whose powers he only vaguely understood into a situation that he didn't even remotely understand was admittedly making him a little pensive; but at least having someone in a SHIELD uniform standing next to him made his outfit seem a little less weird.

    His usual uniform - the awesome gold and blue jumpsuit that was the epitome of post apocalyptic coolness and fashion - was perfectly fine, and he would neither say nor hear a negative word about it. Unfortunately, the swift and bumpy ride in the helijet hadn't provided him with enough time or opportunity to change from one outfit into the other; and the idea of stripping down to his blue and gold boxer shorts in front of Specialist Hawkins and the mysterious probably-British guy had not been a particularly appealing prospect. Instead, he'd just decided to pull on the essentials, which had transformed his US Air Force uniform into possibly the most poorly accessorised outfit in the history of fashion. It was like someone had taken a Captain Dan Myers action figure - which, if that didn't already exist, absolutely needed to - and had put the uniform of a GI Joe on over the top without removing it's costume, the golden boots and the blue and gold gloves poking out from underneath the dark but probably not Navy blue because it was the Air Force pants and sleeves.

    It could be worse, he mused. At least the tinted shades make you look cool.

    Apparently neither the military nor SHIELD uniforms were enough to convince the security guards that maybe they should step aside and let them in. Neither, surprisingly, was the badge that Dan flashed at them: apparently movies and television had misled him when they'd made it seem like doing that would work.

    Dan let out a sigh, and in one fluid movement wrapped his arm around Specialist Hawkins, using the other shoulder to barge into the nearest guard. His powers wrapped around his target at the point of impact, momentarily cancelling out most of the weight bestowed by the force of gravity and allowing the inertia from the impact to send him sprawling across the lobby with relative ease. Not waiting for the other guard to act, he let his powers envelop himself and the Specialist and, triggering a control stud in his glove, activated his boots. The small surge of electromagnetic repulsion wasn't much, but combined with a little extra thrust from his knees and the fact that he and Hawkins now had the combined weight of a small chihuahua, it was enough to launch them into a graceful parabola, clearing security and landing with a soft thud just outside the elevator.

    "Sorry about that, Specialist," he said in a faintly deadpan and distracted tone, an arm keeping the doors open as he waited for Kara to step inside first. "I usually try not to get so handsy on a first date."

    He heard the sound of one of the guards fumbling a sidearm out of the button-down holster on their belt. His head turned towards them, his arm reaching out to aim a fist threateningly towards the armed guard. "Son," he warned, a golden glow of energy slowly beginning to intensify at the end of a metallic protrusion on the back of his knuckles, "Just don't."

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