Disney Heroes [IC]

Crown City

Setting: The city that this game will be based in is an exact fictional replica of New York City, NY. I chose NY in a cliché fashion because even non-Americans know a lot about New York from movies, and I want our international friends to be able to relate to the setting in some form. The name of the city is called Crown City. The technology level is between our modern century to futuristic depending if you decide to give your characters bionic parts or even high-powered weapons. You can go pretty far with the idea. The GM may even drop aliens in later (foreshadow!). The trademark icon for Crown City is obviously a royal crown headpiece that can be found throughout the city, the media, people just love it for marketing purposes.

Disney Castle (Cinderella's Castle) in the Crown City Harbor like the Statue of Liberty. Several tourists take the ferry out to explore its vast and various chambers and floors. The castle is believed to be an old magical ruin that sits over a mana spring.

Notable Locations in Crown City

Sovereign Heights University (Created by Vailyn)

M Cafe (Created by Vailyn)

Meteor Tiki Lounge (Created by Vailyn)

Description for all three locations can be found here.

Vikings' Hovel - bar fights, folk music, games of strength, and basically a hole in the wall where a man can be a man and take a break from the wife for awhile. This is one of the manliest bars out there and with the frequent visits from biker gangs, it is also the most violent. Whatever happens at the Hovel; stays in the Hovel.

Magickal Childe (Created by Apollo_Wilde) Description found here.

Mama's Noodle Shop (Created by JadeKnight) Description found here.

The Zenith Mansion Estate (Created by Stalzyn)
Description found here

Tower Crest Building (Created by Vailyn)
Description found here

Blake Industries/Residence (Created by TetriusHuman)
Description found here.

NPCs

Monseigneur Claude Frollo: He is a presidential candidate currently running for office. (GM-run)

Ella “Cinderella” Glass: She is a famous fashion designer and talk show host on the fashion network. She is president of a multinational clothing industry known as Pixie Dust. (GM-run, but open to other players only with permission.)

Powerline: He is a world-famous singer who has earned the title King of Pop. He makes the young girls melt and sells out albums faster than Girl Scout cookies! [GM-run for event purpises]

Scrooge McDuck: He is not only the richest man in the world, but the greediest. He is the brother-in-law of Ludwig Von Drake and Donald Duck's uncle. [GM-Event purposes ]

Gosalyn Mallard: She is the adopted daughter of Drake "Darkwing Duck" Mallard. She is the owner of M Cafe. (Created by Vailyn)

Orchid (Penn Zero): She is not only the owner of the dive bar known as the Meteor Tiki Lounge, she also sings there. (Created by Vailyn)

Young MacGuffin (Brave): He is the massive son of Lord MacGuffin who owns the Vikings' Hovel. Despite his intimidating size, he is shy, soft-spoken and speaks an incomprehensible Scottish dialect that few understand. The regulars have acquired an ear for it. (Ask GM for permission to NPC)

Time

This game takes place in the month of March 2016. Do your best to avoid conflicting events and dates.

In-Game Events

Powerline in Concert! The King of Pop Powerline has returned to Crown City to debut his new album “Hope.” Tickets are selling like hot cakes. Get your tickets while they last! Event Date: March 18, 2016

IC Rules

Dates: If your character has multiple events going on in a single day, then understand that you are limiting him or her on that day. If another character decides to have something interesting going on in that same day, then your character won't be able to show. Your character will be too busy.
OOC: Keep OOC in the OOC.
Tagging: Use the tag please. Do not post without that tag sitting above your post.

Tagging

Powerline Concert
Time/Date: Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:00 PM
Weather: Clear, starry sky and warm
Prominent Characters Mentioned: Ella Glass (FC: Katheryn Winnick), Cruella Deville (FC: Glenn Close), and Powerline.
Player Characters Mentioned: N/A


The DJ started turning tables and the audience stood up, clapping their hands to the beat that was being dropped for they knew who was coming. The young woman came dancing down the aisle between the two sections of seats in her little show room. Her blonde curly hair bounced about her shoulders as she gyrated her arms and twisted her shoulders just gradually dancing down to the stage below. The crowd joined her, grooving to the music and cheering as the one and only, the most famous talk show host in the world climbed onto the stage in a grey blazer with a black shirt, and slightly torn jeans. On her feet weren’t her infamous glass slippers but Chuck Taylors. Despite all the money she made, she still liked to keep her life simple. The flaxen-haired, blue eyed TV princess was none other than Ella!

“Hello, hello, hello everybody! Yeah! It’s a great evening tonight. Probably the best we’ll ever have because you know who came to town today?” she asked the crowd.

POWERLINE!

The crowd screamed in excitement.

“That’s right. That gorgeous flashing man!”

Ella stuck her tongue out playfully and began fanning herself with her topic cards.

“But let’s get on with the show! Tonight, we’ll be recording it live just for you people and be happy because even if you’re sitting here at my show, I just gave you the best seats in the stadium!”

The crowd cheered again as a massive screen began to lower to the stage right behind her desk. The lamps in her show started to darken to allow her audience to get a gander at the ocean of people moving about a lollipop stage. The main stage was circular in formation, but it had a runway dividing the masses in the case Powerline wanted to walk it or dance it as most would prefer.

“OH! My God! Look at all of those people. I can only imagine how much heat is swirling around down there. Antsy heat.”

The crowd giggled as Ella walked over to sit in her chair with her nice big ceramic cup of coffee (that was also labeled with her name).

“See what I was saying? If you came to see my show, then you were spared all of that mess. Ain’t nobody got time fo’ that!”

As the crowd laughed again, she took a quick sip of her coffee and then happily bounced in her chair, waving to her camera crew.

“Ooo! Oo! Let’s go in further. I want to see who the opening band is!”

As the cameras began to magnify the stage, the Ella show was able to zoom in on a one man brass band. He appeared to be having a good time, dancing around on stage making noise, and they tried to make it better by having another one man band join him in competition except it was a strings band. The men got into a duel of music, battling it out on stage, and of course, no one was watching or listening. Even Ella was narrowing her eyes and cocking a ‘wtf’ look at the screen.

“Don’t you HATE when they do that? They always find some boring band to waste our time and make us stay at the concert longer. The people came to see Powerline not Tweedle Dum and Tweedle DEE! Ugh, I can only imagine the traffic once that concert is over. It’s going to be a NIGHTMARE! Oh but yes, let’s look at some fashion! I was told of some celebrities who were going to be there. Let’s go to my rival.”

The camera darted around and found a gaunt-faced, bony-assed woman wrapped in a Dalmatian fur coat.

Ella nearly spat out her coffee in her laughter. “There’s the hag now! Cruella Deville that grandma! I can’t believe that she’s still wearing black and white. And then she wonders why she can’t compete with me. Uh, maybe because people like a little variety in their lives?”

Suddenly a group with their faces obscured by bandanas ran up behind the retired super model with a large bucket of acrylic paint. The rioters screamed:

“DOG MURDERER!”

“CRUELTY TO ANIMALS!”

A big bucket of red paint was dumped all over Ms. Deville. Her shoulders shot up to her cheeks when she felt the cold liquid assaulting and staining her beautiful fur coat.

“DAMN YOU! YOU LITTLE SHITS!” she screamed vulgarly, waving her lengthy cigarette around as though she wanted to burn somebody. “ELLA SET YOU ALL UP TO THIS, DIDN’T SHE?”

“BURN IN HELL DOG KILLER!”

“LEAVE TOWN YOU BONY HAG!”

Cruella’s face flushed over in anger and sliding off her ruined coat, she handed it to her loyal chauffeur and butler, revealing the black tight dress she wore over her lanky form, which only revealed how bony she really was. Even her tits protruded from her chest like traffic cones. Shaking her fists, she vowed, “I WILL GET EVEN!”

Ella was tipped back in her chair, feet kicking as she laughed and laughed and laughed.

“Oh man that was rich. I swear she’s like a dinosaur. God…she’s like Yzma. Is she friends with Yzma? They really should hang out.”

Recovering from her mirth, Ella sat up in her chair and took another polite sip from her coffee.

“Okay, okay, let’s go to the next one.”

The camera had to really search, but sitting shorter than the seat itself, they found her in the front row at the Powerline concert. Immediately, Ella jumped to her feet. Her blue eyes wide in admiration.

“Oh my gosh! Edna Mode is at the concert. She is like my role model folks. She’s why I became such a success with my company Pixie Dust. I can’t tell you how brilliant she is in the fashion industry.”

Bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, Ella cringed. “Ugh, I wish I went to the concert now.”

AAAAAWWWW the crowd uttered sadly.

Glancing over to her beloved audience, Ella smiled. “Aw, I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are great, and we have the best seats in the house!”

Suddenly, the battle between the two one man bands was interrupted by…a lightning storm. Black clouds billowed and rumbled, expanding over the stage. The crowd fell silent as they curiously stared up, and then became startled once chains of electricity started to strike the stage. The two band players began to comically scatter, leaping and bouncing about as they tried to dodge the lightning strikes. Once they managed to dive off the stage, the stage went from a plain, school auditorium yellow to an electric neon blue. Lights began to bob and lasers fired out over the crowds’ heads.

The singer appeared briefly in one of the lightning spears that struck the stage, his hips shaking and arms swinging to the music. He hadn’t even materialized on stage before the stadium exploded with thousands of adolescent screams.

Open up your eyes, take a look at me. ("Stand Out" by Powerline)

Flash! Powerline briefly appeared again rocking his shoulders and was gone.

If the picture fits in your memory.

He was gradually flashing his way down the runway as fans clawed at the edges of the path, crying hysterically and just going insane.

I’ve been dreamin’ by the rhythm like the beat of a heart,
And I won’t stop until I start to stand out,
Mmm, to stand out.

Backup dancers started twirling and dancing their way down the runway to join the flashing artist.

Some people settle for the typical thing,
Livin’ all their lives waitin’ in the wings,
It ain’t a question of If,
Just a matter of time,
Before I move to the front of the line!

The singer stopped at the end of the stage, continuing to wink in and out of existence on bolts of lightning. The beat started to pick up, raising the hearts of the crowd as Powerline cast his hand out to the few teenyboppers at the front of the runaway, enchanting them as he serenaded them:

And once you’re watchin’ every move that I make!
Ya gotta believe that I got what it taaaaa~kes!

One final flash, and the singer appeared with a burst of light and orange cinders harmlessly raining over the crowd. He was wearing a black sparkling suit with a bowtie and white shirt, his hair done up and slicked back and eyes veiled behind black shades. His white dazzling grin was causing the women to go crazy as they fought the security who was practically grabbing them and throwing them back into the pop ocean of adoring fans.

To stand out!
Above the crowd,
Even if I gotta shout out loud,
‘Til mine is the only face you see,
Gonna,
Staaand out!
‘Til you notice me.

Ella was squealing herself and then she stopped to glance back innocently at her audience who was chuckling away at her reaction.

“Oh! I forgot that I was still here,” she giggled. “But isn’t he just so hot? And he sings so good. That introduction was so amazing. I am so glad that we’re recording all this. I could have watched that a thousand times.”

Powerline and his backup dancers were dancing in sync with him as fog started to roll about their feet. So far, the night was looking like it was going to be the best concert of the year.

Elsa

Character Name: Elsa
Hero Name: Snow Queen
Date/Time: Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:00 PM
Location: Powerline Concert - North Entrance
Tagging: none
Mentioned: Anna

Being trapped in a stadium with nearly everyone in Crown City seemed like a virtual hell to Elsa. Every patrol officer in the tri-city area was at the Powerline concert that evening. Elsa was no exception. Some were relegated to the protesters outside, making sure that they stayed peaceful and didn't cause too big of a scene. There was no skin off her nose if a rich bitch got a little paint on her fur coat. Other officers were providing security to Powerline himself, assisting the arena security that ringed the stage.

She had taken up a position at the North Entrance, a fantastic vantage point of the few stragglers that were trying to get through the security check point to their seats and the stage. Anna was here somewhere in the throng of humanity. She was a huge Powerline fan. There were few things that Anna wasn't a fan of. Knowing her sister, she was right there in the front row. Elsa shook her head, looping her thumbs lazily in her belt.

Everything seemed fairly orderly at the moment. The evening was clear, warm and perfect. With luck she would be out of there in a few hours, back in patrol car and on her way home. It had been a long day already with her normal patrol route. Hey, over time was money. All she had to do was make sure a few drunk fans didn't get TOO rowdy.

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Gaston
Mentioned: Jean Gene, Madame, Lord Sullivan

The young, petite woman smiled as she walked into the familiar door of M Cafe and took in a deep breath. She loved the smell of rich dark coffee and sugary confections that filled the cafe in the morning. The first time she came here was while she was in high school. She had just finished a tour of Sovereign Heights University and decided to explore the area. The mural on the glass windows caught her eye and she was intrigued to see what the place was about. There was a fancy M decorating the glass door and colorful foliage along the edges. Tall windows paired the door and were covered in an array of mythological creatures. The mural changed every year. The hip owner of the cafe, Gosalyn Mallard, always hired a local talent before Halloween and a new mural would be painted.

A majestic space theme covered the windows now. The artist used paints that soaked in the light and glowed in the dark. It's a different experience to see it in daylight and at night.

She tucked her dark, wavy brown hair behind her right ear. Deirdre was suppose to meet her for breakfast but the chances of her being on time were high on late rather than on time. She glanced around the room but she didn't see the sassy redhead anywhere. She pulled her phone out of the leather carrier bag and headed towards the register. She started to type a text as she walked.

[To Dierdre] Wake up! I bet you're still sleeping! If you don't get here by 8, I'm going to eat your--

OOOPH!

She crashed into someone and it felt like she walked into a wall. She tilted backwards before she managed to regain her footing. A curtain of her hair veiled over her eyes before she pushed the mass over to the side. "Oh! I'm sorry! I should have watched where I was going. Are you alright?"

She looked up straight but all she saw was a well defined male chest. It took a moment for her eyes to rise up far enough to meet the stranger's gaze. "You're really tall..." Light blue eyes twinkled and she laughed! "Sorry! I said that out loud, didn't I? I'm sorry for bumping into you. If you want, I'll treat you to a drink?"

"Belle! I'm starving! FEED ME! That's the price you pay for making me wake up at this ungodly hour. Who gets up before 10 anyways?" The buxom redhead with leaf green eyes snagged Belle's arm and pulled her towards the counter. Belle glanced over her shoulder and waved at the man she bumped into. It seemed like his blue eyes were watching her like a hawk. "Who is that? He's hot! Did you get his number? Does this mean you'll get lucky on your birthday? I mean, when are you going to join the rest of the world and have sex? Sex is tasty goodness! Right before espresso. Wait. No no. Espresso is definitely top of the list right now."

"SHHHHH! You know the whole room is listening right? Shut up or no double mocha cappuccino for you." Belle teased her best friend, Deirdre. "I can't believe you're only a few minutes late. Is this a world record?"

Deirdre scoffed with a unladylike snort and manhandled Belle over to the counter. "You're 21 today! We have to celebrate and do all the things. Even if I have to put up with Gene later. What you see in her, I'll never know. FEED ME or I'll cause a riot in here!"

The two of them chatted as they ordered drinks and breakfast. Belle paid for the order and they settled into their usual spot by the window. Deirdre curled over her large red mug and drank the cappuccino like it was the nectar of gods. "What's the plan today? After you get that guy's number. I approve. Go get 'em."

Belle played with the rose-gold ring on her right hand and absently turned the pale pink morganite ring. "I'm ditching classes today."

"Yes! That's my gal!"

"Breakfast, shopping, stop by the witch lady Madame's shop, dinner with the family and catching Jean Gene's gig at the Lounge. Nothing too crazy." Belle lost her smile as a thought crossed her mind. She pulled out a creamy envelope from her bag and handed it over to Deirdre. "I got another invite from Lord Sullivan to come visit him before my internship. I don't know why but he's been sending me an invite on my birthday ever since I turned eighteen. Should I do it? It's odd that he's only offered one to me. My brothers and sister never got an early invitation."

"That whole deal is weird. The one where your Dad promised to have all of you spend a summer working for him when you turn 21. BUT Lord Sullivan is one of the wealthiest available bachelors in the city! You could get lucky! No one knows what he looks like. I wonder if he's a freak?" Deirdre wondered, wagging her elegant eyebrows with comic efficiency.

Belle laughed and lost the pensive look on her heart shaped face. "Lord Sullivan must be twice my age if not more. Nolan doesn't want me to go. He said to just wait until June. It's only a few months away now."

"Whatevs! I have a present for you but I'm going to wait until dinner. You can open it with the pile of goodies from your family. Are you sure you want to see Madame? The buzz about her is strange. Rumor mill says that she only deals with people when it's to her benefit. It's not exactly safe to go there." Deirdre is usually the one encouraging Belle to be adventurous and go wild. She thinks Belle is much too responsible and not irresponsible enough as the youngest child of five.

Belle rubbed her thumb on the ring. It warmed to her touch and a tiny shiver tingled up her arm. "Yeah. I feel like this year is going to be full of changes and I want to face them head on. Past, present or future. It doesn't matter. I want to know. Knowledge is power."

Character Name: Gaston Etienne Delacroix
Villain Name: The Wanderer
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Belle and Deidre
Mentioned: Lord Sullivan


Every morning seemed to drag on harder and harder, but this one especially had left him unshaven. His dark wavy hair was touching the shells of his ears and was overdue for a trim. His beard was growing out. His hair grew pretty fast, and if he didn’t groom regularly, then he would be looking like Paul Bunyan by the end of the week. It didn’t help that he was wearing a red flannel shirt this morning. The sleeves were rolled up to his impressive biceps and the first three buttons of his shirt were undone to grant room for his barreled and hairy chest. Normally, he would have shaved his neck and jaw with his hunting knife to test its edge, but he was going to add a hot towel and a straight razor from ye olde barber to his schedule.

Crisp-blue eyes beneath furrowed thick brows glared at the line that extended before him. It looked as though everyone and their grandma had been at the M this morning. What was so hard about ordering, grabbing a number stand, and sitting the fuck down? One family had about seven whining and screaming kids. Ugh, it was too early in the morning for that shit.

Gaston’s patience had snapped when he felt someone smack into his back. That was it. His hands balled into large fists, and he whirled on the girl like a feral beast—teeth clenched and eyes wild. He wanted to punch a bitch.

Oh! I’m sorry! I should have watched where I was going. Are you alright?

The malevolence on his face went stupid instantaneously when the petite woman pushed back her thick, curtain of chocolate locks to reveal the most beautiful and innocent face he had ever seen.

I’ve been meaning to tell you… (“Hungry Eyes” – Eric Carmen)

Gaston was speechless as he gawked at the young lady. She was…She was perfect. She was the perfect height for a standing blowjob…fun-sized.

I’ve got this feelin’ that woo~n’t subside…

Immediately he was dreaming with his arms crossed behind his head, standing there with his pants open, and this girl going down on his dick. He didn’t have to sit down or anything. He could have hid her in his pants all day.

I look at you and I faaa~ntasize…

You’re really tall…

That wasn’t that only thing he was. Hell, his dick would probably look like a tank cannon to her.

Sorry! I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m sorry for bumping into you. If you want, I’ll treat you to a drink?

And she wanted to buy him a drink? How thoughtful.

You’re mine tonight…

Gaston’s stupid expression left his face as he brought his hands to his hips and puffed up all big and proud with a brilliant grin. He managed to take a single breath in an attempt to mesmerize the little vixen with his charm when out of nowhere he was interrupted:

Belle! I’m starving! FEED ME!

Just like that, the beauty was snagged away by another beauty, leaving the hunter standing there with a blank expression. He watched the two girls flee over to the counter.

Now I’ve…got you ii~n, my sights…

He wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. While Belle and Deidre were engrossed in conversation, Gaston leisurely walked over to the two, eavesdropping as he went. He had already learned that the girl’s name was Belle and that she was the perfect size for a fantasy he had just added to his bucket list. Today was her birthday and she was apparently getting invites from a Lord Sullivan. Hm…he made a mental note of that character. Gaston finally stepped over to the two women, propping a foot upon the metal footrest of Belle’s stool, his crotch came within inches of her face, and even without being aroused, she could visibly tell that the hunter was packing more than just firewood down there.

With these…huuungry eyes…

“Pardon, I just ‘appened to ovair ‘ear zat today is your birfday. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gaston Etienne Delacroix, but you can call me anysing you want,” he said, taking her hand to attempt to lightly kiss the top of it. “I also ovair ‘eard zat your name is Belle...” Gaston leaned down close to her ear until his lips were inches from it as he tried to woo her with his language of love: “Êtes-vous le français, ma chère? Vos belles lèvres peuvent parler ma langue?” (Can you speak French, my dear? Can your beautiful lips speak my language?)

One look at you and I can’t disguise I’ve got…huuungry eyes...

Gaston then turned to the staff behind the counter and informed: “I will pay for zese beautiful ladies’ meals. It is ze least I can do on your birfday.”

To make things more awkward, he was still holding her hand.

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Gaston, Deirdre
Mentioned:

Deirdre face changed, the large mug perched on her bottom lip and her leaf green eyes dramatically moved to the right. The feeling of being watched became stronger and Belle turned her head. Her wavy long locks fluffed in movement, dragged on a stranger's leg before settling down partially on the leg and back down her back. Belle came face first with someone's groin. From the lump straining in front of her nose, it looked like a well endowed and very excited man. She was so close, if either of them moved a smidgen forward or back, she'd have her first intimate encounter in public.

Thankfully, the dangerous area in question moved back as the man lean down to claim her right hand and kissed the back with a loud smack of lips meeting skin. Was that the tip of his tongue?! She barely kept track of what he was saying in his thickly accented voice.

He raised his head and drew closer to whisper in her ear. She caught a glimpse of dark hair, intense eyes and thick shadow of a beard. It was the man she bumped into earlier! His scruff barely touched the sensitive area around her ear and she resisted the urge to squirm as he spoke: “Êtes-vous le français, ma chère? Vos belles lèvres peuvent parler ma langue?”

"Non, monsieur. Je ne parle pas français. That's the limit of my French." It felt like he could see right through her light, white cotton peasant blouse with strings laced down the front and dark blue floral embroidery. Her shoulders were left bare and the flowing sleeves gathered in a flare of material below her elbows. Nothing she wore was sheer or remotely skimpy. She had on her favorite blouse that made her think about pirates and soft blue jeans that hugged her legs. Yet, beneath his intense gaze, Belle felt like she was naked in plain view...

“I will pay for zese beautiful ladies’ meals. It is ze least I can do on your birfday.”

He still kept her small hand captive with his large one. Belle squeezed her fingers around his thumb and stroked her thumb over the top of his hand. "Uhm, sir? Mr. Delacroix? You don't need to do that. We already paid for our food. I would like to buy you something, if you would like to join us?"

Belle pulled their hands in Deirdre's direction. "This is my best friend, Deirdre. As you heard, I'm Belle." An impish spark lite up her eyes. He was still crouched over her. His much larger form hovering over her like a mountain over a hill. Belle straightened up in her seat and stretched her neck so that she could whispered in his ear: "Do you always greet strangers with your intentionally thick accent and prominent body functions on display?"

After all, Belle grew up with a bunch of brothers. She never stood down from a challenge.

Character Name: Gaston Etienne Delacroix
Villain Name: The Wanderer
Date/Time: 03/12/2016, 10:45 PM
Location: Vikings' Hovel - Owned by Young MacGuffin (Brave)
Tagging: Goliath Bullhorn (NPC), Open
Mentioned: N/A


The Vikings’ Hovel wasn’t your everyday bar and pub, family friendly and all that bollocks. No; it wasn’t family friendly and it wasn’t a place for women unless the woman proved to be just as tough as the men that swamped the place. It was a place where men could be men and slap a nice piece of ass without having the nagging accompany it. Men drank until they fainted, belched, fart, played cards, had matches of strength, and every now and then they’d have a little sing-a-long.

Young MacGuffin ran the bar and how such a shy, soft-spoken mammoth of a man was able to hold the place together was beyond any psychologist’s comprehension. The Vikings’ Hovel had a very simple culture. Whatever happened in The Hovel stayed there, and if anyone was going to go crying to their mum or the police, then their reputation received permanent emasculation. A man’s reputation was quite sensitive and it was possibly more important to him than sex. With the regulars having understood this, there was a peace within chaos. Newcomers were easily spotted like a foreigner in a small town. They were given the roughest welcome until the newcomer could prove that they had balls of steel.

Gaston was at the bar this evening, having himself a tall mug of beer and relaxing every moment he could from a long week’s-worth of work. He was a regular and was often seen as a champion amongst the other men that frequented the Hovel. No one fights like Gaston, they always said. Most of the bar fights that occurred in the Hovel were because a big shot from another bar, buried deep in another asshole in Crown City, had heard of his reputation and travelled with his crew of bootlickers to challenge The Great Gaston. It happened all the time, and when Gaston wasn’t present, Young MacGuffin had to literally keep a fight schedule of appointments for the hunter.

The Frenchman’s blue eyes were scrolling over the names scribbled on the notebook MacGuffin had set before him with his drink. His cheeks were full of a beer so hardy that it was practically his dinner for the night.

“Yegotminafightingentontelist,” Young MacGuffin said to the hunter. (Ye got many a fighting gent on the list.)

Handing the list back to MacGuffin as though it had been a menu, Gaston swallowed the brew he had literally been chewing in his mouth and replied, “I will takes zem all on at once.”

“Thatkinbearrang. Nfacdereallocomin’.” (That can be arranged. In fact, they are all o’comin’.)

The corner of Gaston’s mouth stretched long and quirked hard. “Good.”

As he snatched up his mug to dump its contents against his face, the door to the Hovel was kicked open, the thick wooden door swinging on its iron hinges to slam loudly against the wall. Standing in the doorway was a big man who was extremely top heavy and it hadn’t been with just muscle either. His tiny, black, leather, spiked biker coat was ripped at the sleeves and unzipped to allow for his massive arms to branch forth and his round portly belly to hang down from his dark-grey XXXL shirt. The gargantuan man took up the entire doorframe. His beady eyes were concealed behind tinted biker goggles and a black spiked biker helmet sat upon his head.

“HELLO PUNY ROACHES OF THIS PISS POOR TAVERN. I, GOLIATH BULLHORN HAVE COME SEEKING THE MAN YOU IMPS SO BLINDLY PRAISE BY THE NAME OF GASTON!” the biker bellowed, his voice akin to Macho Man Randy Savage.

The biker stomped in and several of his leather-clad biker band spilled in behind him like bleeding ink to block the entrance. There was no running now.

“’Ey! We’re not roaches! Who da ya think ya are bargin’ in here?” one of the patrons growled. The bald and just as burly man stood up and marched over to Bullhorn to thrust his chest up against Bullhorn’s large gut. He looked him dead in his goggles and threatened, “’ow ‘bout ya get ya fat ass back on ya bike and scram back to that hole-in-the- ground tavern ya crawled from?”

“ARE YOU GASTON?” Bullhorn asked.

The bald man frowned. “No.”

Instantly, Bullhorn’s immense hands clamped around the bald man’s sides, holding him as though he were but a doll. The bald man’s face paled when he saw how big the man’s hands were.

“Wait! Wait! I’m sorry!” he tried to apologize.

Effortlessly, Bullhorn whirled and launched the man like a javelin into the ceiling. All the patrons’ heads craned upwards as the bald man disappeared and wood showered to the floor. To where he had been thrown? Nobody knew.

Bullhorn rested his hands on his stomach and roared with laughter. “ENOUGH! WHERE IS GASTON HIDING? I MADE SURE TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT. IF HE STANDS ME UP, THEN HE WILL BE KNOWN FROM THIS POINT ON TO BE A COWARD!”

Gaston turned on his stool and arched a brow at the biker. Lowering his beer mug, he swirled the liquid about in his mouth before he swallowed it down with one big gulp. He then inhaled deeply through his nostrils as the digestive gas swiftly invaded his throat and left his mouth on a loud and obnoxious belch that could only make the men of the Vikings’ Hovel proud. It had caught Bullhorn’s attention who was now smirking as he knew that he had now found the man he was looking for.

Young MacGuffin was reaching for the empty mug Gaston had, but the hunter threw it down and smashed it upon the floor. He then abruptly stood, knocking his stool over. The bar owner glanced down at the mess on the floor and sighed.

“Ze pig should get his eyes checked,” Gaston scoffed.

Several men in the Vikings’ Hovel rose from their seats to form half a ring behind Gaston, while Bullhorn’s men formed the other. The two men stood in the center of the ring, proudly facing each other. As tall as Gaston was, Bullhorn was taller and larger, possibly eight-feet of fat and muscle.

Bullhorn shook with laughter already excited and eager to deck this French poodle in the face. “THE CHAMPION OF THE BIKER TROUGH SPORTS BAR STANDS BEFORE YOU LITTLE MAN—OH YEAH! I AM GOING TO GRIND YOUR BONES INTO MEAL AND BAKE A LOAF OUT OF IT. I WILL THEN NAME THIS LOAF PUSSY LOAF AND FEED IT TO THE REST OF YOU GIRLS—OH YEAH!”

Gaston grinned dastardly at the man, his brows knitting over his fiendishly glinting eyes. “Zen zey will ‘ave ‘ad more pussy zen you.”

The Hovel exploded with laughter as the men behind Gaston slapped their knees and roared with mirth. With a proud smile, Gaston held a hand over his shoulder that was promptly given several fives by his fans behind him. Bullhorn reinforced the smile on his face. Its foundations had wavered a little as his men stood behind him scowling at the other patrons.

“I AM GOING TO ENJOY PUTTING MY KNUCKLES TO THAT PRINCELY FACE!” the biker bellowed.

Gaston couldn’t help but swell with flattery when even The Mighty Bullhorn noticed how handsome he was. A pleasant smile curled at his lips as he said, “Oh? Do ze women talk about me in your-”

Bullhorn’s fist crashed against the side of Gaston’s face, causing his head to snap to the side with a thunderous collision that had the jaws of every Hovel patron dropping in shock and awe. A powerful shock passed through Gaston’s body and exploded beneath his feet, cracking the floorboards until they erupted beneath him. Bullhorn was grinning deviously, but soon his grin started to falter when he noticed that his punch hadn’t thrown the hunter as he would have liked. Gaston was still standing and against the resistance of his strength, he started to turn his head back in Bullhorn’s direction.

The eyes of the Hovel patrons glimmered in awe as they watched Gaston pushing back Bullhorn’s fist with the turn of his head. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen before his eyes that stared wickedly into the shocked biker’s eyes. Bullhorn bore his teeth as his whole arm started to shake with the strength he was trying to push against Gaston’s jaw. When he realized his attempts were futile, he retracted his fist with a growl.

“You want your ass kicked zat bad, te n’est pas?” Gaston asked.

The men of the Hovel and the bikers of the Trough quickly flooded the gap between Gaston and Bullhorn, holding the two fighters back as they herded them over to the bar counter so that they could set up the proper matches.

Gaston was grinning and his blood was racing. This was his break. This was his weekend. He could do this all day.

Once the proper ring was established, Bullhorn started the strength show by grabbing for one of the large glass mugs and smashing it against his forehead.

Gaston in return grabbed a beer bottle and passed the end of it between his teeth. He chomped down on it, cracking the bottom off, and began chewing the glass. When he was finished, he spat onto the floor at Bullhorn’s feet what appeared to be a brown beer glass diamond. One of the bikers walked over and picked it up out of fascination, turning it within his fingers.

Bullhorn in return snarled and swung his bulky arm out to swat the biker out of his way. He then raised his arms high above his head, spread his feet, and then sank into a hard flex. His arms curled, his swelling bulk causing his leather jacket to burst from about his shoulders.

A lopsided grin sliced across Gaston’s face as he held out both of his arms. The Hovel patrons removed the belts from their pants and began looping them about Gaston’s arms and throat. The men then pulled on the belts until the loops started to constrict about his arms and neck, threatening to strangle him. A wild and feral look appeared in Gaston’s eyes as he curled his arms and flexed his neck. His biceps ripped through the belts and his swelling throat ripped through the ones about his neck, causing the men to fall. He then raised his arms, curling them in a continued flex and bellowed as his chest, back, and shoulder muscles caused every button on his flannel shirt to pop and then the shirt exploded into shreds, leaving him bare but for only the black pants on his strong legs.

Bullhorn and the Trough bikers stood there stunned as Gaston lowered his arms and shot a devious grin over at MacGuffin.

“Shows ovair. Start ze music,” Gaston ordered.

It was time to brawl. (“Captain Kelly’s Kitchen” by Dropkick Murphy)

Character Name: Gaston Etienne Delacroix
Villain Name: The Wanderer
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Belle
Mentioned: Deirdre


Uhm, sir? Mr. Delacroix? You don’t need to do that. We already paid for our food. I would like to buy you something, if you would like to join us?

She had made the mistake of inviting him to sit down for just as she was introducing him to her friend Deirdre, Gaston had swung around and practically put his ass in the girl’s face as he sat down to take her seat, forcing her onto the next stool over. He rested an elbow on the café counter, his hand holding his head as he gazed upon the beauty from beneath half-lidded eyes. He didn’t even pay her red-headed friend any mind as his bulk seemed to block her from Belle’s view. His other hand was resting upon his hip, his legs spread comfortably wide before her as he continued to invade her personal bubble. He was hardly modest about the bulge in his pants. When she leaned over to whisper in his ear, Do you always greet strangers with your intentionally thick accent and prominent body functions on display?

Gaston arched a brow at her and smiled. “Oh, you noticed?”

He was talking about his huge dick. Yes, he knew he was well-endowed and the fact that she had noticed had flattered him. He then grabbed her stool to pull her ever closer as he said:

“Chère, I am genuinely French, genuinely handsome, and genuinely in love wit you. It is a shame zat you don’t speak my language. I feel zat it would leave your lips beautifully. If it pleases you, you can buy me breakfast, and in ze meantime, you can tell me what you plan to do for your birfday. Movies, restaurant, club…” His blue eyes then licked down her body before returning to her face. “Birfday sex, peut-être? I can grant zat wish. Do you know ‘ow many women wish to fuck me? More zan you can count, but I don’t want zem. I want you, ma jolie chérie.”

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Gaston, Deirdre
Mentioned:

The Frenchman moved with a speed and grace that Belle didn't quite expect for a man of his height and muscular bulk. Before she completed her little observation, Gaston relinquished her hand, somehow took over Deirdre's seat and placed himself to be the focus of her view and attention. Belle had to bite her lip to stop laughing when she saw Deirdre stand up and make faces at Gaston behind his back.

“Oh, you noticed?”

A blush brightened Belle's high cheekbones but shyness did not stop her from replying to his blatant crow of approval of her attention. "Oui, monsieur. It's hard to ignore the truth when it's right before your eyes. I can hardly take credit for" Belle glanced down briefly at the prominent display that had yet to flag down in any shape or form. "the show in your pants. I'm sure that's a natural condition and not one I had any hand in making."

She almost lost her balance when he pulled her stool closer to him. Her hand reached out and landed on the closest thing, Gaston's arm. Her fingers gripped his forearm tightly for a moment as he pulled her closer, the scrap of metal on wood loud in her ears. He placed her well between the sprawl of his legs. Their faces only inches apart as he rested his head on his propped hand.

Something about him excited her. It brought out the brash, competitive side that she had with her older brothers. They were all strong men with keen minds. None of them would ever take it easy on Belle due to her being a female or the youngest. Instinctively, she felt that she had to show him her own strengths or he would not take her at all seriously. Yet, that drive threw her usual reactions out the window. She's never teased or confronted anyone so blatantly before.

He thought to intimidate her by being in her space. Except, she had an inkling that she affected him as well. Belle pushed off the stool she had been sitting on and stood up between his legs. The darn man was so tall that he was inches taller than her sitting down! She patted the middle of his thighs with her hands and left them there. He really is like a rock! She thought as she recalled how it felt when she bumped into him.

"Let me treat you to breakfast and a drink. What would you like?" She was about to distance herself from him when he spoke. The more he talked, the more disjointed her reactions became. She couldn't decide if he was crazy for saying what he was saying, or if she was crazy for listening to him at all. Then she realized he must have overheard everything she said with Deirdre. She couldn't decide if she felt mad, amused, annoyed, embarrassed or maybe all of the above!

She took a deep breath and ended up inhaling the amazing mix of the M Cafe's morning scents and Gaston's unique blend. "You are very French indeed, monsieur. I agree you are handsome. Though, I suggest you may want to shave. Love? Love isn't just wanting to have sex with someone so I'm not sure if I believe that you're "genuinely" in love with me. I understand more French than I speak. I'm sure I could speak it well if I tried. My plans for the day, I believe you" She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. "already know because you listened to our conversation. Breakfast, shopping, a visit to Madame's, dinner with the family and seeing a friend's show. I do like movies, restaurants and dancing in clubs. No thank you. I don't want birthday sex. I don't care if other women want to fuck you. I only care if I want to fuck you. Right now, I don't. I am not your pretty sweetheart. However, I do owe you breakfast and a drink."

Belle looked into his blue eyes and thought about how they were a richer blue than her own light blue orbs. Her gaze dropped to his lips and she felt a desire to see how his lips would feel on hers. "If you're lucky, you may have a chance to kiss me. Maybe."

She patted his thighs again and repeated her question, "Well? What would you like to eat? I shall fulfill one of your desires. Just not the one your prominent display may want more."

She quirked her eyebrow at Gaston, waiting for his response. For some reason, the Warrior by Scandal was playing in her head.

Character Name: Gaston Etienne Delacroix
Villain Name: The Wanderer
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Belle, Deirdre
Mentioned: N/A


Gaston felt her hand upon his arm and he smiled (not at all seeing her grip as a potential offensive attempt). When she stood abruptly between his legs and rested her hands upon his thighs, he couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted him. He could tell. She spoke so honestly…

“I like a woman who tells me ze truth,” Gaston confessed—clearly unfazed by her rejection to his sexual offer. She did say after all that ‘right at that moment’ she didn’t want to fuck him and not ‘never.’

If you’re lucky, you may have a chance to kiss me. Maybe.

Gaston grasped the backs of her thighs just beneath her bottom, his thumbs tracing circles tenderly into the denim that covered them. His motions might have nearly made her stumble into him as he gazed into her eyes, his love-struck smile having never left his lips. One of his hands left her legs to take her soft hand into his larger one as he brushed her knuckles with his thumb.

“I like ‘ow real you are. You do not lie to me. You do not ‘ave to fuck me right now. Maybe latair. It makes sense. I am a strangair and you are a beautiful woman who ‘as right to ‘er virginity. You are ze lock and I am ze key, and I ‘ope to open your door one day. I will settle wit a kiss for your birfday. A kiss from Gaston. You just let me know when, and I won’t ask for anyting else.”

The hunter then released her and turned to face the counter, sitting properly for once. He was still smiling, thinking about how he will eventually deflower her. He might even marry her after. She was just so beautiful and perfect—fun-size!

“Garçon!” Gaston hailed as one of the café waiters stepped over to the counter. He thumbed over at Belle and said, “Ze lady ‘as agreed to pay for my meal, and I am ready to ordair.”

The waiter drew from his apron a notepad and pen. Tabbing the pen to have the tip appear, he asked, “What will ya have?”

“I would like twelve eggs—sunny side up—wit twelves pieces of toast and crispy bacon. Your pancakes, ze blueberry ones wit extra buttair and syrup, a bowl of grits wit buttair and sugar, your mixed fruit, and a pitchair of milk so zat I may refill my own glass. Did you get all zat? Do I need to repeat myself?”

The waiter was staring at Gaston stupidly. He then glanced down at his notes. He had started to write what he had asked for down until he kept going. Scratching his head with the pen, the waiter just clicked his pen off and said, “Uh, yeah buddy, got it.”

He then walked off to prepare the order.

Gaston smirked and glanced over at Belle. “I ‘ave quite ze appetite before work. You do me a service by saving me money (not like he was broke).”

He then glanced over at Belle’s red-headed friend, finally deciding not to be entirely rude. If he wanted to get into Belle’s good graces, then he knew that her friends would have to be his.

“Allo, ma rousse chérie. You are friend of Belle, oui? Do beautiful women normally prefair ze presence of othair beautiful girls?”

Character Name:Fa Mulan
Hero Name: Red Dragon
Date/Time:Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:00 PM
Location: Parking Garage next to the Powerline concert
Mentioned: Elsa

Mulan sighed softly for a moment as she sat on top of the stairway portion of the parking garage on the west side of the open-air stadium that was hosting the Powerline concert. She had thought about going, but she wasn't that willing to part with money for tickets. Besides, the location she had choosen gave her a decent view of the large screen showing off in the middle of the stadium, as the parking garage was only a story higher than the tiers of the stadium. She also heard the loud music pretty well.

She let one leg dangle off the edge of the roof, the heel of her boot tapping lightly in time with the music. Mushu sat beside her, more watching Mulan than anything else. The dragon gave a little smirk for a moment, wondering exactly what the young woman was thinking.

"Day dreaming again?"

"No, how can I day dream when it's night?"

The dragon shook his head for a moment.

"Day, night, you were still lost in your own world. What were you thinking about then?"

Mulan smiled for a moment, looking at the dragon.

"I was just thinking of the day we deciding to start doing this, helping to keep crime down."

It had only been six months since Mulan had decided to don her oufit to try and go after criminals. The day at the resturant had been a quiet one, just after the lunch rush. The old lady had decided to step out for a smoke when a middle aged guy came in, his eyes darting around. Seeing the place was empty, he approached the counter and pulled out a knife. Mulan was busy cleaning out the oil in a wok, so she didn't here him come in.

"Give me all the money you have."

"Huh?"

Mulan turned around quickly, looking confused for a moment. The man had to repeat himself, when the old lady came in. The man growled and brandished the knife in the lady's direction.

"Hold on, hold on sir. I'll get the money, just get me a second."

Mulan opened the cash register, pulling out all the cash they had before putting it in a plastic it back. He snatched the bag away and turned to run. He was halfway out the door as the old lady was picking up the phone to call the cops. Mulan looked at the wok she was still holding for a moment before she rushed out from around the counter. She stopped quickly before hitting the guy on the back of the head. His eyes rolled back in his head before he fell to the ground.

The guy was tied to a chair by the time the police arrived, and the first one in the door was Elsa. There was something about Elsa that Mulan liked, but she kept quiet during the time she was there and then gone.

Mushu grinned again.

"You got a crush on her, don't you?"

Mulan blinked and growled, trying to smack the dragon on his head. He pulled back, letting her hand miss.

"No, I don't. I just thought she was cute, that's all. Besides, I've never gotten to talk to her."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"Hush, you. And keep an eye on things."

Hercules
Character Name: Hercules
Hero Name: Prince of Power
Date/Time: Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:10 PM
Location: Powerline Concert - North Entrance
Tagging: Elsa
Mentioned: Donovan, Sullivan,Mulan.

Hercules parked his car ( http://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media...l_progressive,q_80,w_800/17vfw9alt83pajpg.jpg) at the lot, he killed the engine and stepped out. The sound of heels on pavement told him Jessica was approaching.
"I'm guessing with the crowd response Powerline's is out. Right?" Hercules asked glancing at his watch. 21:11.
"Yes, and you need to see him. He's so dreamy...like something born out of a wish." Jessica replied with dreamy eyes.
"And I thought I was the one holding the ace when it comes to beauty." Hercules chided back, feigning surprise.
"You're handsome Herc... but you ain't Powerline, the guy is all masculine strength. You can barely lift a crate." She teased.
Jessica like every one else was not aware of Hercules other identity. She only saw him as a handsome rich young man who believed in enjoying life to the fullest by being a Casanova, and a party goer. Oh how she was unaware that all that was just farce like the gold mask his hero name Prince of Power is known to wear.
As Hercules started towards the gate, Jessica followed hastily behind, her high heels making unrythmic sounds on the paved walkway.
I was able to move some strings like you wanted, Elsa is positioned at the Northern entrance. All you have to do is go straight past the enthuastic fans and through security check. She is impossible to miss after that." She finished with an air of pride for having been able to influence the police using the Zenith's name. Hercules collected the envelope from her stretched hand. Opening it, he brought out Elsa's picture and gazed at it as if seeing it for the first time.
"I still don't know why you are so interested in this cop. Its not that she's as beautiful as the models that visit the mansion every now and then." Jessica questioned, a mixture of curiosity and jealousy in her voice.
"Thank you Jessi, you've been most useful." Hercules replied, he placed back the picture into the envelope and continued his walk towards the security checkpoint.
"Don't you think she needs to know?" US melodic voice sounded in his mind. "Jessica might not be able to handle the truth. There's every possibility that she will reveal it to a trusted person for a chance to talk it out." He replied back through the com in his ear.
Pushing his way to the front of the stragglers, Hercules was immediately allowed past security.
"Been busy in the lot huh?" A cop joked opening the gate, he assumed the only reason why the rich bachelor was following the north entrance was because he had just finished doing what he does best.
"Nah! Just wants to explore new horizons." He responded, his gaze fixed on Elsa whose eyes was on someone in the front row.
The guard noticed his gaze and smiled slyly. "Yeah, right. She's rough territory sir."
"The rougher, the better my friend." He responded stepping through the scanner.

"Your reputation seems to precede you Hercules."

"It does its job of paving way."

As he approached the blonde cop with pale skin, his head slowly turned blank. Even as he stood inches behind her, all he could muster to say was...
"Nice view huh?"
She turned to look at him for a moment then back to staring at the front seat.
"You know, you can get a better view from where she is...unless, you don't have any interest in all of these. Maybe you wish to be driving downtown, to where you can be.... " He trailed off.
As she turned back to face him, Hercules offered his hand. "I'm Hercules Zenith and you must be..." he asked smiling and trying to read her expression.

Elsa

Character Name: Elsa
Hero Name: Snow Queen
Date/Time: Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:10 PM
Location: Powerline Concert - North Entrance
Tagging: Hercules
Mentioned: Anna

The sound of someone approaching from behind had Elsa's hand slowly moving towards her taser. Concerts could get out of hand and it wasn't at all unusual for a drunk to try and mess with a cop to prove that they the best. Slowly, Elsa turned her gaze until she found herself staring at Hercules Zenith. The knew who he was. Every cop in town knew who he was. When he talked, she let out a sigh, muttering under her breath in Norwegian.

"Gud, dette igjen?" She murmured, shaking her head as she scanned the crowd down at the front row, searching for her sister.

It was near impossible to see Anna down there. She knew that she was safe, but the overprotective part of Elsa wanted to ensure that she was out of trouble. That, and being hit on by a multi millionaire wasn't exactly her idea of a good time.

"The only interest I have here tonight is in doing my job." Elsa said in a curt tone, glancing back at the man who seemed to be interested only in her. "I know who you are, Mr. Zenith."

She made no move to shake his hand, her leather clad hands still tangled casually in her belt. "Do you need help finding your seat? The usher just down the stairs there has been showing Ms. DeVil's party the way. I'm sure that they can help you as well."

She wanted to be any other place but there right then. Home with Marshmallow, eating homemade labscouse from the little old ladies in Little Norway that liked to fuss over her. Instead, she was at that damned concert, hoping that Anna didn't do anything stupid while she made sure that everyone behaved themselves. She wasn't in the mood.

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Gaston, Deirdre
Mentioned:

He's kinda adorable. Belle thought. As she spoke her mind and let her opinions rip, the outlandish man started to grin like a fool. The silly grin changed the somewhat dangerous appearance to that of a delighted boy. He even had dimples hiding in the dark shadow of his scruff! She liked the way his blue eyes lite up with whatever trouble he was thinking. She wondered if his cheek would give beneath her finger like the soft flesh on the curve of a belly or feel rock hard like the muscles in his chest.

I like a woman who tells me ze truth.

He suddenly grabbed the back of her thighs and his thumbs made inappropriate designs on the lower curves of her rear. She didn't have time to do more than clench the muscles of her behind before he claimed one of her hands and made more absurdly poetic, cheesy lines.

Belle's expressive face showed startled surprise, shock, desire, annoyance, curiosity and was stuck on amazement when Gaston finally took up her offer of food and made his order. Andrew, the waiter, gave her a questioning look at Gaston's statement about her paying for his meal. She nodded.

I am. She mouthed to him. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. She'd probably get an earful from Gosalyn and the rest of the staff. Being a regular for years, she knew everyone that worked the cafe. They were all friends and the cafe staff were like a family. Everyone knew everyone else's business.

At some point, Deirdre decided that she may as well enjoy the front row show. The stranger was ridiculous with his blunt statements, extravagant in his actions and a total macho chauvinist from the top of his head to his toes. There's no chance in hell that Belle would be into this guy. He wasn't her type at all!

Deirdre and Belle exchanged a look between them. The meal he ordered was enough to feed three starving teenagers! Was it possible for one person to eat that much?

"How do you stay fit when you eat that much?" Deirdre wasn't one to mince words or let manners stop her from asking questions. She rolled her eyes at Gaston. "Listen up, pretty boy. You know you sound kinda dumb when you say things like that right? Like asking if 'beautiful women' only hang with each other. Looks matter but that shouldn't be the only reason why you become friends with someone."

"How we look is a part of us but I believe who we are is determined by more than that. I'm more interested in knowing how you think, believe and do. Looking nice is great but time takes away from the surface. What's in your heart is forever. Deirdre is my best friend because we grew up together and we know each other well. The fact that she's beautiful is just another part of her."

Belle sat on the edge of her stool and took a sip from her mug. She peered over the edge of the cup at the brash stranger. He's the kind of person that would fit right in a hundred years ago.

"How can you love me when you don't know me? Don't you think you should get to know me first? Give me a chance to get to know you? I don't want to kiss a stranger just because he's handsome. Besides," She grinned at him. "I think your almost beard would be too scratchy and ruin any chance of it being a good kiss. You do look a bit like Paul Bunyan. Are you sure you're not a mountain man visiting the city? You definitely eat like a starving mountain man."

She teased him.

Belle's foot started to tap to the beat of the song playing from the cafe speakers. She realized it's Duran Duran's Hungry Like the Wolf.

Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo
In touch with the ground
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Straddle the line in discord and rhyme
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And I'm hungry like the wolf

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 3:10 PM
Location: Magickal Childe
Tagging: Madame, Deirdre
Mentioned: Jean Gene, Powerline

"Are you sure we're going the right way? You know this area is sketchy." Deirdre asked as she eyed the grungy surroundings. They were on the southern end of Crown City, not far from the piers and the area would have been picturesque if it wasn't covered in soot and the buildings were kept in better shape. The older run down buildings made a poor comparison to the newer bridges and highway ramps that spanned over the area and connected Crown City to the mainlands. It was in the middle of the day but that didn't mean that they were necessarily safe.

"You need to make sure you're not doing anything on the 18th. WE are going to the POWERLINE CONCERT!!!" Deirdre squealed with excitement. She actually jumped around and shimmied a dance. "I even got a ticket for Gene. If I have to go listen to her band, she can suck it up and groove to some amazing pop! I used up some favors to get us prime seats right in the front. We may even get a chance to touch him as he struts his stuff on the walkway! He is SO hot!" Deirdre stopped walking as she lost herself in a sexy dream about Powerline and a limo.

Belle grinned at Deirdre and double checked the directions to the shop, Magickal Childe, on the map on her phone. They walked around this block several times and kept missing a turn or something. She put a hand on Deirdre to stop her from walking away and checked down an alley. This time, there was a light on that wasn't on before. She dragged the daydreaming redhead with her down a poorly lite alley. It was barely wide enough for them to walk side by side. There. The light was from an illuminated head light that shined an orange red and marked parts of the brain.


A sign in the window said the place was open seven days but the shop itself looked dark. Belle took a chance and tried the door. It opened with a grudging hesitation as if she was pushing it in mud and only after it was open more than halfway did a loud jangle of bells dance over their heads. A dingy sign next to the door said:


"Belle, I don't know if this is a good idea." Deirdre whispered as she followed behind.

"Come on. I need to do this and I heard I may be able to get some answers here." There was a vague light passed the dark entrance and Belle walked into the cave like area towards it. She felt nervous but it was the nerves of doing something that may challenge her life in ways she didn't know. Her instincts did not scream of danger. This year was important for more than one reason. Seeking answers for questions she's had was one of them.

The room suddenly opened up into a large space stuffed with magical paraphernalia of all kinds real or imagined. It was like a treasure trove for those of the esoteric or children's fancy. Crystals, masks, drums, books, skulls, dreamcatchers, cds, candy and countless more. A person could spend a whole day in the shop and not see everything it offered.

"Hello? Hello? I'm looking for Madame." Belle called out.

Character Name: Madame
Hero/Villain Name: The Shadow Lady
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 3:10 PM
Location: Magickal Childe
Tagging: Belle, Deirdre


Despite the run down appearance of the neighborhood, school was out - and that meant kids. There would be intermittent groups of them, laughing, talking, yelling over one another as they egged each other down the sidewalk. The occasional mother, grandmother, would be standing outside of their front steps, catching up on the local gossip. It was a veritable polyglot of words - Spanish, Haitian Creole, French, Vietnamese, even the occasional Gaelic.

However, as Belle and Deirdre walked by, the conversations grew…muted. The gabbing women would stop until the pair passed, and then pick up again, in softer voices, before raising again to regular volume.

It was clear that the two clean cut girls weren’t exactly welcome.

Still, looks never hurt anyone, and the girls were able to walk through the streets unmolested. Entering Madame’s shop, the air was redolent with the heavy scent of nag champa incense. Hanging over the door was a particularly large incense brazier, though no smoke came from it. The light within the shop was muted - purple and yellow, despite the large window in the front. Stepping through the smoke, the innards of the shop were vaguely reminiscent of a church - even with all of the goods crammed nearly ceiling high within it. There was a sense of airiness, once you looked up - it seemed as if the ceiling might go on forever. Faint music, in what sounded like French, filtered through the air, buoyed over the sounds of the kids outside.

“So, you wanted to see Madame.” The voice was as smoky as the room; low, sensual, pleasant.

Madame herself seemed to materialize from behind an overloaded bookshelf, her top hat perched jauntily on her head. In the muted light of the store, her violet eyes were luminous. “I’d say that you’ve found her.” She had no discernible accent, but there was a “not from around these parts” lilt to her voice that did not lend itself to any place - at least, any place with a clear name.

The elegance of her suit and the lines of her curves made her seem like she towered over the two girls, but as she walked closer to them, she was maybe an inch or so taller. “Now, ladies, what can I do for you?” A faint smirk played round the corners of her plush lips. Combined with the just so lift of her eyebrows, it gave the distinction that they were simultaneously not worth her time and muted interest, measuring them in teaspoons as they stood in her shop.

Hercules
Character Name: Hercules
Hero Name: Prince of Power
Date/Time: Evening, March 18, 2016,
9:27 PM
Location: Powerline Concert - North
Entrance
Tagging: Elsa
Mentioned:
"Norwegian? You're from Norway?" He asked feigning surprised... "You look extremely beautiful for a Norwegian... plus your accent in English is completely American." He withdrew his hand into his pocket. Wore a sober look and said... "I understand how you feel miss, the concert is not really your thing and obviously babysitting isn't either." He nodded towards the front row.
"You might think me for a pest right? One making incessant humming sounds in your ear like a tse-tse fly." He chuckled softly at the thought.
"Yet, all I want is to talk, just to talk to you."
Hercules brought up the envelope from Jessica, opening it he pulled out a picture and stretched it to Elsa. Even as she collected it, he watched as it registered on her face, the memory of the event probably flooding back.
It was a picture of an armed rogue trapped in the middle of an alley, ice covering from his knee down and preventing him from moving.
"You were among the first cops that arrived at the scene after this fellow was trapped there by the mysterious Snow Queen right?" Hercules questioned subtly while raising a brow.

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 3:10 PM
Location: Magickal Childe
Tagging: Madame, Deirdre
Mentioned:

So, you wanted to see Madame.

A striking woman with large eerie violet eyes and long black dreadlocks tied up in a deep purple sash seem to saunter out from the depths of the shop. While she wore an astonishingly large selection of jewelry upon herself, all the glitter and shine paled to match the sharp, finely tailored black suit that adorned her curvy figure.

I’d say that you’ve found her. Now, ladies, what can I do for you? The woman's voice seemed to emote amusement, sensuality and boredom all at once. It felt a bit like being a fly caught in a spider's web. Deirdre walked up to stand next to Belle. The normally bubbly redhead seemed harder, her eyes leeched of any warmth and her body ready to act against any troubles. A flare of animosity sparked from Deirdre to Madame. Almost as if they had history.

Belle laid a calming hand on her friend and moved herself to stand slightly in front of Deirdre. "Madame? I was told that you have knowledge about magic and some of the histories. Do you know anything about this ring? It's been in my family for generations and I would like to learn more about it."

Belle held out her right hand before the Madame and showed her the morganite rose-gold ring. The ring warmed her finger, and it throbbed like the pulse of a living thing.

Madame: March 7th (Monday)

Character Name: Madame
Hero/Villain Name: The Shadow Lady
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 3:10 PM
Location: Magickal Childe
Tagging: Belle, Deirdre

Her violet eyes flickered over to the red-head, weighing her, summing her up, and ultimately discarding her.

“Yes, I know some things about magic. A little here, a little there.” The smile on her face was straight cat that ate the canary, but even in all of its smug satisfaction, it was a painted on expression, no real emotion in those vivid eyes of hers. Behind her, her shadow seemed to stretch, flexing invisible muscles, before settling back down to mirroring her.

Stepping closer, her gaze settled on the ring, and then, back to Belle’s face. For a moment, her gaze held the younger woman’s, and it was as if Madame had waltzed into the corners of Belle’s mind, turning over memories here, looking through desires here, unearthing fears there. “If you don’t mind?”

Madame held out a be-ringed hand, fingers curled slightly in towards the palm. The gesture was subtle, but clear - I’m not going to touch you. Give me the ring. “And don’t worry about my stealing it. If it was worth anything to me, I would have had it long before your family happened into it. You knew that much at least?” She raised her eyebrows, her expression easing into slight scorn, a kids these days look that on anyone else, would have been endearing, friendly.

Character Name: Gaston Etienne Delacroix
Villain Name: The Wanderer
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Belle, Deirdre
Mentioned: N/A


How do you stay fit when you eat that much?

The corner of Gaston’s mouth stretched into a long and proud smirk as he eased back on the stool and stretched out his arms. He slowly brought them inward, curling them upwards and the women (and not just the two who he accompanied) would be able to see his biceps, deltoids, and even the pecs of his chest inflate with his strength. The sleeves of his flannel shirt creaked as threads threatened to snap and gaps appeared about his buttons as though the buttons were near ready to pop.

“When you look like zis, you need it. My body is like machine, and it needs all the fuel it can get,” he replied, and lowered his arms, deflating his ego.

Listen up, pretty boy. You know you sound…

Gaston’s interest in the conversation immediately died when Belle’s friend started preaching about looks, love, and blah, blah, blah. While Deirdre was in the middle of her conversation, Gaston turned back to face Belle with a rejuvenated smile. There we go. This was who he was actually here to see.

How can you love me when you don’t know me? Don’t you think you should get to know me firs? Give me a chance to get to know you? I don’t want to kiss a stranger just because he’s handsome. Besides…I think your almost beard would be too scratch and ruin any chance of it being a good kiss…

A hand rose to his face as he inspected the bristly hairs on his jaw. It wasn’t that bad.

“You must not ‘ave evair kissed a man before. Let me be your first,” Gaston insisted. “I will kiss you like no othair man evair will. But can you ‘andle it, virgin girl? Zat’s ze k’ues’ion. Ze kiss I would give you would be so sweet zat you would melt in my arms.”

The hunter arched a suspicious brow at the girl. “What are you afraid of, chère? Zat I would be right? Are you afraid to fall in love wit’ me? I am strong, brave, good with finance, and I could protect you. You would ‘ave nothing to fear. I would give you ze best sex. What mistake would you be making in loving a ‘andsome man like myself?”

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 3:10 PM
Location: Magickal Childe
Tagging: Madame, Deirdre
Mentioned:

Deirdre's jaw tightened with anger and she forced herself to not react to Madame's habitual taunts. It didn't matter of the two of them knew each other. Belle doesn't know that and Deirdre wasn't ready to fully disclose the truth to Belle yet. She held her peace and kept a watchful eye.

And don’t worry about my stealing it. If it was worth anything to me, I would have had it long before your family happened into it. You knew that much at least?

Something about the Madame made Belle feel like she could be in trouble, but she also felt that she was in the right place and doing what she needed to do. All the sudden, Belle grinned and she chuckled. "Actually, the thought never crossed my mind. I just didn't think about taking it off. I've worn it since my thirteenth birthday."

It took a little work, twisting and pulling for Belle to remove the ring. She closed her hand around the ring and felt it press into her palm. It pulsed once. Like it was assuring her. Belle dropped the ring in Madame's hand.

"Do I need to do anything? I've never done anything like this before. How long has your shop been here? You have some really cool things in here."

Belle: March 7th (Monday) - Birthday!

Character Name: Belle Ann Thaddeus
Hero/Villain Name: Elysian
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: M Cafe (Owner: Gosalyn Mallard)
Tagging: Gaston, Deirdre
Mentioned:

Andrew and Darcy worked together to juggle several large platters of food and strategically placed Gaston's order on the counter. The portions were so large that the food was spread out in front of Belle, Gaston and Deirdre. The girls helped to make more space by giving up their mostly empty plates and asked for refills of their coffee.

Mouth watering aromas wafted up from the piping hot food: fluffy golden pancakes with butter melting on top, crispy bacon, a pile of cheerfully fried sunny side up eggs, grits with melting butter and sprinkles of sugar in a fancy blue bowl, platter of freshly cut mixed fruit and a white ceramic jug full of whole organic milk.

The last but not least, Andrew grinned as he placed the order of toast on the counter. Someone had a little fun with the toasted bread and created a toast pyramid. Belle and Deirdre laughed when they saw that and exchanged grins with Andrew.

Belle plucked a bacon strip and took a bite. "Mmmm! I love crispy bacon." She waved the leftover slice at Gaston. "I don't know you, monsieur. I'm not going to kiss you, choose to have sex with you or fall in love with you just because you say so. It doesn't matter if you're handsome. I believe that you're strong." She couldn't help put poke his arm with a finger. "Yes. Strong."

She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling down over her shoulder and she gazed intently into his eyes. A thoughtful expression was on her heart shaped face. The laughter started in her eyes before they showed on her lips. The smile full of impish deviltry and humor. "Alright. You can ask me out on a date. I may say yes. Just because I'm too curious for my own good."

She plopped the rest of the bacon in her mouth and chewed with pure foodie enjoyment. "Though," She waved at the bounty of food before them. "This could be our date and that is your prize. Rather than a kiss or love."

A new song started to play over the speakers and the girls shared a smile when they realized that they were both moving to the song. Belle's hips moved to the beat and Deirdre was moving her shoulders. It was a song from the Footloose soundtrack, Never.

You can never never never ever never never never ever hide your heart
Don't ever ever ever ever try it
If you don't give your heart wings you'll
Never never never ever fly

Deirdre shared her thought, "Darcy must be on her 80's kick today."

Gene: March 7th (Monday)

Character Name: Gene
Hero/Villain Name: Gene
Date/Time: 03-07-2016, 11:03 AM
Location: Tower Crest Building
Tagging: None
Mentioned: Belle, Baloo, Animal, Alan A. Dale, 'Sgt.' Floyd Pepper, Alley Cats, Madame Medusa

___________________________________​

The Tower Crest Building was located on the Upper West side of Crown City, a few blocks south of S.H. University. It offered large, spacious apartments for those that could afford an affluent lifestyle. At this time of day the building was typically pretty quiet, most of the residents were gone, at work or about the town doing whatever people with a lot of money did. One apartment in particular, 221B, high up on one of the highest levels of the far reaching building, wasn't completely unoccupied. From within came the dull rumble of bass. It throbbed against the walls, causing picture frames to rumble and buzz, nicknacks to vibrate about and potentially fall off a shelf and shatter. The music came from one of the two bedrooms of 221B, the smaller of the two. The door was left open, letting the growling music to travel through the rest of the house, which was thankfully unoccupied. One soul inhabitted the apartment at this moment, just the small hallway, first door on the right. It was propped open as well, a pair of jeans left rumbled and half-way inside out, half stretched over the threshold.

And there she was, in all her radiant glory. Gene sat upon her throne, though it was far from the glamorous sort. This one was made of ivory and had a liftable seat, along with a lid. Her short black hair was in wild disheaval, one raging case of bedhead. Her face wasn't any better, worn and tired, blue but bleary eyes stared dully down at the glowing screen of her smartphone. She hadn't taken off her makeup from the night before, so she looked more like a stoned raccoon that the pretty young woman she was. The only thing covering her decency was a baggy black T-shirt, the faded logo of the local hockey team, The Mighty Ducks, stretched across her ample bustline. Her legs were kept in place by her panties, which clung to her knees. From her plush lips a cigarette dangled, the tip flicking out snaking wisps of cancerous smoke. It was then, as the scene unfolded before her that Gene looked up, peering directly up in front of her with a lazy and annoyed expression.

“What? Already? Shit...I didn't realize the thread started already. Gimme a minute...no...” She shifted, scrunching up her face before she sighed and plucked the cigarette from her lips. “Make that ten minutes. You guys might wanna step outside...this isn't gonna be pretty...”

Hurriedly, and thankfully, the scene drifted from the bathroom. It was ever so kind enough to shut the door as well before making its way towards the bedroom that Gene called home. It was obvious from just a glance that the room initially hadn't been meant for her. The walls we a grotesque pink, bright and cheery to the extreme. Everything was fluffy and girly, at least what wasn't covered up by Gene's stuff. Her clothes were kept mostly in a pile near the window, which had a blanket tacked over it to keep the sun at bay. The only time the room got sunlight, fresh sheets or anything resembling a cleaning was when her roommate, Belle, decided she had enough. Their relationship was an odd one, yeah, they were one of those odd couples. Straight out of a shitty and unfunny sitcom, meet two girls that couldn't be more opposite! They had met through a mutual friend, Baloo. He was one of those old hippy-dippy sorts. Peace, love, and a shit ton of weed. He liked to smoke it out of his 'peace pipe', which he more often than not had on his person. He was a lazy old bastard, super laid back, but he had some killer green. He was also pretty good with the bongos and had a spectacular singing voice, if only he would use it more often. Gene couldn't rightly recall how she met Belle through him, it was one of those fuzzy moments in her life where things weren't exactly turning out for the best.

One thing lead to another (Belle's post will fill in the blanks!) and Gene had invited herself back to Belle's apartment. Gene hadn't left since then and oddly enough, Belle didn't seem to mind. She wasn't a complete bum, Gene did have a part-time job at Madame Medusa's Pawn Shop Boutique. If she wasn't leaning against the counter there regretting her life choices then she was either making fun of people at one of the local comedy clubs or belting out some killer tunes with her band, The Multiple Personalities.

Now there was a band of misfits and muppets. The four of them didn't look like much together, more like a small group of bums, but they could churn out something relatively akin to music. Animal, was one of the finest drummers around. He was a bit of a speed freak though, but that didn't seem to affect his abilities. If anything they enhanced them, there was nothing like watching that red haired, bushy bearded freak beating on his drum set like it owned him money. Then there was Alan A. Dale, another red head (damn ginger) that played the guitar and did a decent job as a backup vocalist. His hair looked more like a rooster comb, or kind of like Conan O'Brien. He was the cleanest cut of them all.

Last, and probably least, was 'Sgt.' Floyd Pepper. No one really knew why he called himself a sergeant, since he had never actually served in the armed forces. Floyd was the personification of hipster, the hippest of hip. He played the bass and always wore a bright red suit and green cap when he played. Despite his general douchiness he was an alright guy.

Together, the four made up the band The Multiple Personalities. They were a punk band, first and foremost. Which made their rivalry with the band the Alley Cats (a jazz band) all the more confusing. But don't get caught up in the minor details, we're just kind of making this shit up as we go along.

“I think that's enough background for one post,” Gene sighed as she emerged into the pink nightmare of a bedroom. She had freshened up as much as she could without taking an actual shower. Just a dunk of her head into a half full sink, only to let the faucet rain down on the back of her head. She ran a wet hand towel under her arms and over her lady bits, just enough to keep fresh without going overboard.

“Alright. So I think I established enough of a character concept here.” Gene flopped onto the edge of her bed, looking back down at her phone.

“It's not even twelve yet. So let's get back to everyone else. Some bullshit about flirting, looking at a magic ring. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Stupid Powerline concert. Ugh...” Gene flopped back onto the bed and pulled her stained comforter over her head, peering out through one of the numerous cigarette burn holes.

“Wake me up when it's my turn to post again. Hmmkay.”

Character Name: Donovan Blake
Hero/Villain Name: Maleficent
Date/Time: 03/07/2016, 7:45 AM
Location: Blake Tower
Tagging:
Mentioned: Everybody

"Just look at them. Crawling about to do their petty little mortal things. The fact that I must deal with them just makes my skin crawl. They should die. All of them."

His voice did not carry even a hint of venom nor hate, more like somebody mentioning the sky. Where he stood at the full-wall window, looking down upon the city, Donovan felt just the age-old longing to be able to fly again. To have his wings. The building was mainly deserted, the only people still around the security and cleaning personnel and even they knew to keep out of sight unless summoned.

With arms behind his back, fingers interlocked, legs slightly apart, he stared down at the teeming city. His only companion the chilly air from the environment control and the dull glow from the computer screen on the sleek desk at his back. How he longed to unleash fire upon all of these creatures, their kind have taken everything from him and now he had to spare them, for just in case somebody could know where to find his wings.

With a disgusted snort, he turned away from the window, "Small things are left to humans." He sat down at his desk and scanned the display, the news still not able to bring any comfort. Of course the military of various countries would be very interested in personal armor with flight through rocket packs, but it was not what he needed. He forwarded the mail to his PA, telling him to look into it. Leaning back in his chair, he glared at the screen, the realm of Man was pathetic indeed.

Raven's attempt to meet Mulan.

Character Name: Raven
Villain Name: Diablo
Date/Time:Evening, March 18, 2016, 9:10 PM
Location: Parking Garage next to the Powerline concert
Mentioned: Fa Mulan and her Dragon. 3 Goons.

Raven's black crotch rocket hurled through the ramps rising up to the top of the parking garage. She was in her all black riding suit with black helmet, gloves, and boots. Her body was molded against the vehicle. She whipped it around, skidding the tires against the white pavement. Twin black streaks trailed down the final level of the garage. The bike came to rest twenty feet from the stairwell (upon which Mulan and her Dragon were chatting). There wasn't space for another vehicle, but Raven didn't mind. She leaned the bike in the unoccupied "Do Not Park" section. The yellow stripy lines looked pretty contrasted against the white pavement. She thought her bike's asymmetrical placement in the spot gave it a bleak aesthetic that she found pleasing on some deep, unfathomable level. She wasn't sure why, but she was happy no one else had had her idea to use the open space.

She hopped off her bike and popped her black helmet off. She shook out curtains of hair so black and lustrous it gleamed blue in the overhead light. She panned around the top of the garage, then tipped her head up to look at the stars overhead. It was a nice night. She smiled.

Then her eyes trailed down to where the ramp twisted around a corner and descended back into the garage. Three goons emerged. They were lumpy men in a mismatch of random, dull colored clothing. Each one held a baseball bat. The bats were old school hunks of lacquered wood. They swung them in the air.

"Oh no! Help! Help!" Raven screamed, backing up towards the railing of the garage.

"Tickets!" They all chanted in unison. The goons kept coming, swinging their bats like they were at the batting cages. One of them almost hit the other on several occasions, but they didn't seem fazed by the near misses.

"B-b-but, I can't..." Raven shuddered, pressing herself up against the railing. She looked over the side, as if debating about dropping seven stories and risking a few broken legs. She had three tickets clutched in large, ink black hands. She looked back at the goons now only twenty feet away.