Nighthawk: A Superhero Story (closed for Siobhancan99)

[Halcyon638]

Ian hesitated a moment, squinting in their direction and tilting his head slightly. He walked across the pedestrian mall slowly, almost cautiously, as if any minute now a taxi doing 60 might roll through the area closed to vehicle traffic. There was a strange, strained quality to his expression, though there was no sign that he was on anything.

“Hey,” he said with a tone that sounded resigned. Hadley looked to Monica as if waiting for approval, then said a neutral, “hi,” waving to her.

After Hadley had been introduced to him, Ian managed something resembling a smile, though forced. “Hey. Good to meet you.”

When the topic of what he was doing downtown, Ian mostly looked off to the side, past Hadley and down the street. “Josh’s roommate moved out so…” Monica vaguely remembered him saying Josh lived in Gilliam Heights, another rough neighborhood of Prospect City. He shrugged his shoulders, the food bags ascending and descending. “Doing the Grubhub thing.”

“Ah. You must get a lot of drunk Prospect U students ordering,” Hadley said sympathetically.

Ian nodded, facing Hadley now. “Can’t all be days at the beach, right?” Looking down at the bags of food, he said, “I should head out. Good seeing you,” he said to Monica flatly. “Nice meeting you.” He started away.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica nods "well good luck with that! and good luck with your band!" She sighed, as it meant Ian would be going through the most dangerous parts of the city, probably at night. Fortunately grubhub drivers didn't carry cash so... if he was robbed it would be for his chinese food. Hopefully he'd be smart enough to just turn it over. Still, part of her was tempted to just follow him around the city night after night to make sure he was safe.

She looked over at Hadley over her gellato "He's uh. Tom's younger brother. He was never really all there and Tom's death hit him pretty hard. I'm honestly surprised he has a job but I'm glad for him. It's a step in the right direction. it was nice that he looked sober too." She ate more of her gelato and had regrets a little as she already had a shake. Even with her enhanced metabolism she was being a pig today and she'd be hungry if she skipped dinner. Well, hopefully she got in a strenuous night. Maybe she'd put the ship down somewhere and leap rooftop to rooftop or something.

After saying her goodbyes with Hadley, she made her way back to the apartment, showered, and made herself a light dinner to take with her in the ship. A turkey sandwich and an apple. She packed up her stuff, and slipped out a little after dark. "Lets see if I cant find this gang that Padilla runs with" While hovering over the city, she googled them and tried to figure out the best locations to find that sort of thing.

 

[Halcyon638]

Through Googling, Monica found a few bits of information about PJ Padilla and the 8-3 Crew. Firstly, they’d named themselves that based on their general location in Founder’s Square: north of 83rd Street. Padilla was apparently the cousin of Alonso Padilla, another member, who had told the police he had no idea where his cousin was following the shooting. By wading through some news stories about violence related to 8-3, she found that a number of them took place near one of two sites: either Martens Park, or a nightclub called Sights. A light rain was falling on Prospect City now.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica grumbled at the rain. I mean sure, rooftop fights in the movies in the middle of a downpour LOOKED cool but they were probably just slippery in reality. Also she wasn't really dressed for inside the club, being in her armor. She could either fly back and get hoochied up, then go to a sketch club probably full of guns and play detective, or... she could hover nearby, use binoculars to look for guys with gang tattoos and follow them. Not having to get redressed...check. Not getting wet... check. two for two, she elected to follow this plan. She brought the ship to a nearby rooftop and observed.

 

[Halcyon638]

Monica crouched and observed the entrance to Sights, watching for anything that might point her in the direction of the 8-3 Crew. There was plenty of skin on display despite the rain, and she could have likely counted on one hand the number of guys wandering in who didn’t seem to be displaying visible tattoos. Even if she was certain what designs she was looking for, the rain would have made it difficult to determine who was sporting ink advertising their loyalty to a gang and who was a young guy trying to project a degree of badassery. Being straight out of Cottersville hadn’t exactly given her much in the way of street smarts as of yet.

At one point, a pair of young men that looked to be around her age were turned away at the door. One of them appeared to be exchanging words with the bouncer, only for the large man to grab him by the shirt and push him back. The young man and his friend sauntered away through the parking lot and down the street, catching up to a third guy on the sidewalk and stopping to talk.

A minute or so later, an Escalade pulled up. Two large, imposing men emerged from the front, seemed to scan the parking lot for a minute, then walked around the side of the car to open the door for a stylishly-dressed 30-something man and a woman in a shimmering dress. Monica could see what appeared to be a handgun in the rear waistband of one of the hulking guys (though they were in a concealed carry state…). The four of them walked toward the club's entrance, one big guy ahead and one behind.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica considered, then swiftly made her way down the nearby fire escape into the alley across from the club. She had reason to suspect that with meeting the third member of their crew the boys kept from the club might return, and that if they were armed and the people that pulled up were armed there could be some shooting between them. This was a recipe for disaster, but also an opportunity to maybe grab one of them while protecting the innocent. Or not so innocent. Celebrities and drug dealers alike had armed guards. The question remained as to which these were getting out of the car. Still, best to assume they were just rich folk out slumming it. In that case, they deserved her help if things went to hell. If they didn't, well then she could use that opportunity to maybe get closer to the boys and see if they were visibly members of the gang she was looking for.

 

[Halcyon638]

As Monica waited, she saw the three young guys apparently decide to head off, and they walked down the street as a trio, talking and laughing. She could feel the rain start to let up, but at the same time, her prospects for getting any useful information seemed to be drying up as well. As another half hour passed, she saw a side entrance to the club she hadn’t noticed before open up. A trio of tattooed men with bald or shaven heads and flashy jewelry, one of them sporting a handgun, dragged a fourth, similarly attired male out into the alleyway. “I don’t think you heard me so good, pendejo,” the man with the gun said, weapon aimed at the man’s head as the other two guys tossed the man into a puddle on the alley’s floor. “You don’t fucking walk through that door again, okay?”

The man in the puddle seethed as he sat in the small wet pool.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica slipped up behind the men, taking advantage of their extreme focus. She didn't have a lot of time, as her presence might make them shoot the guy on the ground. She came up behind the gunman, taking the butt of her grapple gun she attempted to smash him in the back of the head with it, in the hopes she could take him out quickly, then have an opportunty to take out his friends at her leisure, either way she was at this point all in.

'I really should learn Krav Maga or some shit' she thought to herself as she closed, not for the first time.

 

[Halcyon638]

Monica moved silently and swiftly, covering the ground between herself and the three men rather quickly. She emerged quickly, slamming the butt of her grappling gun against the armed man’s head, causing his knees to collapse to the ground and the rest of his 250-plus pound frame to follow. The man in the puddle’s eyes were saucer-like as he started scrambling to his feet. The other two large men flanking the fallen gunmen were still too taken aback to process what had just happened, leaving her a potential opening. “Who the fuck?” one of them let slip. In the light, the tall, ripped guy who’d just shouted was revealed to be almost distractingly handsome, though his face was twisted in confusion and rage at the moment.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica kept up the relentless assault. It sucked that the guy was so hot, but she couldn't just let people shoot people. if it weren't for the gun she'd chastise herself over some sort of bias against tattooed dudes and how they weren't all gang bangers, but the gun sort of gave lie to that and she figured it was fine to punch first and ask questions later. She stepped in fast, and threw a hard jab for his stomach, wanting to knock the wind out of him more than take him out of commission. She had questions that needed to be answered, after all.

 

[Halcyon638]

The target of her punch sprawled backward, landing hard on his back and struggling to catch his breath. The man in the puddle was up now, and started sprinting away. The other hulking guy still standing reached out for Monica, attempting to grab a hold of her. He managed to wrap his arms around her midsection, but, placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself up out of his grasp, vaulting over his shoulders and landing behind him. She noticed he had a pistol in his rear waistband that he wasn’t using.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica whipped her hand out and grabbed the gun, drawing it from his waistband with a smooth motion "lets all settle down now." She said in her best terrible Elizabeth Holmes pseudo batman voice. "Pointing guns at guys in dark alleys isn't cool, but what goes around comes around"

She stepped back, gun pointed at the ground for now "Hopefully you gentlemen understand you're outclassed and we can have a nice civil conversation. If not, we can continue as we were before. Honestly I have to admit there's a large part of me that would prefer to carry on as we were before because I have a lot of emotional issues I'm trying to work through. It's probably more constructive to use my words though and not my fists."

 

[Halcyon638]

The bulky man that still stood raised his hands to the air as the man they were threatening ran out of sight. “Whoa whoa—we don’t want any trouble, okay?” he said, real fear in his eyes. The guy she’d stomach punched was slowly regaining his footing. “I’ll tell you whatever you want, okay?”

“Dude, it’s that chick from the news,” the guy holding his stomach said. “Punches like a motherfucker,” he added, a bit of admiration to his tone.

 

[siobhancan99]

"Good call gentlemen. Good call. Now I'm not really concerned so much about why you were pummeling that guy, and frankly I don't really care. I care about the Padillas. I care about finding the Padillas and I'm going to have to spend A LOT of time in and around this club, and if I spend a lot of time in and around this club I'm probably going to see more things like I saw tonight. Things that would make me forget that I want the Padillas. Things that might distract me from my current goals and give me NEW goals. I hope we can all agree that the sooner I forget this place exists the better for all of us. So tell me where I can find either of them, and assuming I do find either of them... well.... I won't be seeing you."

 

[Halcyon638]

The guy holding his arms in the air gestures down the alleyway. “You want Padilla? That 8-3 dickhead you just let go probably knows where he is. We don’t want any trouble so we dragged his ass out!” The man holding the gun originally begins to stir on the ground.

“You sound kinda hot under there,” the good-looking guy says, apparently not deterred by the stomach. He drew a withering glare from the man who had just spoken.

“Shut the fuck up.”

If they were telling the truth, the man had a solid head start by now.

 

[siobhancan99]

"well... fuck" she didn't really have time to figure out of they were bullshitting her or not. The man had a good 10 seconds or so and she had to make them up. She took off down the alley, shouting a "thanks" to the guy who called her hot sounding, and made it to the end of the alley. She took a quick look left and right, then burst off in whicever direction she felt she saw the guy, relying on her superior speed to try to take off after him and hopefully catch him.

 

[Halcyon638]

Fortunately, after racing off, Monica spotted the man about 50 yards away, casually strolling down the sidewalk, talking on his cell phone. Presumably, he didn’t expect to be in any danger as long as he stayed away from the club. Aside from an elderly Asian man heading up the steps of his apartment, this stretch of sidewalk was empty, and though the suspected gang member would occasionally glance from side to side, it would be easy to sneak up on him.

A few droplets of rain fell as the puddles reflected the neon from a nearby storefront. In the distance, a woman on a balcony attempted to rock a baby to sleep. This close, Monica could see a tattoo consisting of three dots arranged in a triangle on the back of the man's neck. He was speaking agitated Spanish into his phone.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica crept up on him, then hating it but understanding the effectiveness of it, she took her purloined gun (which she resolved to take back to the club) and pressed it into his back. "termina tu conversación, por favor" using the little spanish she knew from High School and hanging out with Gabi. "Don't make a scene and I'll understand what you're saying" well she hoped she'd understand. "So don't say anything that will make me shoot you"

 

[Halcyon638]

The man slowly held his arms out to the side, tapping his phone to end the call at the same time. "Let's talk," he said, voice quavering a bit as the rain began to pick up again.

 

[siobhancan99]

"wise choice. I don't really want you. I want the Padilla's. Preferably the shooter, but If you feel like traipsing all over town tonight with me then you can just point me at the cousin and we can both have a chat with him." she reaches, trying to get his wallet out of his pocket as well, intending to take his ID so she can find him again if he fucks her over. "I don't really give a fuck about you or whatever bullshit you're up to. Honestly if you creeps want to shoot each other all night that's fine, but when you kill innocent people that's a horse of a different color."

 

[Halcyon638]

“Hey, we don’t fuck with civilians,” the man said, sounding almost offended. “Padilla was out of line with that shit. Only nobody can do shit ‘cause of who his cousin is. I bet you anything Alonso’s putting him up. He’s got a house in Coldbrook.” Monica vaguely recalled passing through Coldbrook, a once thriving suburb of Prospect City, while visiting the city as a teen. “1-3…1-5-3 Loughlin Street. This didn’t come from me, okay?”

 

[siobhancan99]

Looking at the ID in the wallet "she muttered "Alright Mr. Ramos of Franklin Avenue" So he'd know she knew who he was in the hopes it forestalled him calling ahead "It didn't come from you. If he's not there I'll come talk to you at home and see if you can think of anywhere else he might be." she repeated the Loughlin street address a few times then let the guy go. He wasn't the shooter and she didn't know for sure he'd done anything wrong. he said all the right things, but he said all the right things with a gun in his back. Not exactly trustworthy.

She summoned the ship then sighed as she still had club guy's gun. She could drop it off next time she was out. She stowed it, then flew over to the Coldbrook area. She found a small copse of trees where she could keep the ship at tree level and scramble down. She covered her armor with her disguise of loose sweats and a hoodie, then stowed her lockpicking gun in the front pocket. she pulled the hood to conceal her face and her armored head, then she started around the neighborhood. Some blocks were lit and others weren't. Even in the span of a few years it seemed the neighborhood had taken a bad turn. Still, if the houses were kept up they could be nice so she could see why a gangster would want to live out here. More spacious than a townhouse. A little yard for barbecuing. Not quite the half acre lots of the real 'burbs, but a quarter acre. Not bad. The kind of place that once would have been for the upper reaches of the working class.

She made her way along a darkened street till she got to the address. Making her way quietly onto the front porch she listened, trying to see what might be going on inside... if anything. It was pretty fucking late.

 

[Halcyon638]

From one of the front windows that was covered by a curtain, she could still glimpse small flashes of lights suggesting a television was on. Pressing her ear against the window, Monica heard what sounded like muted gunshots and explosions coming out of the device. At one point, she thought she also heard a male voice, but it was too muffled to know whether it came from the television or from someone there.

 

[siobhancan99]

Monica moved to the door and used her device her dad gave her to throw the pins in the lock. She slowly turned the handle, trusting the loud tv to cover the opening of the door. She hadn't heard a dog, but that didn'tmean there was a dog "Please don't let there be a dog" she whispered, because she was 100 percent sure she couldn't fight a dog and would probably run off if she had to. She stepped into the hallway, then moved over towards the room with the tv. If Padilla was there, he was probably in that room.

 

[Halcyon638]

Monica stepped into a darkened foyer, her Centauri vision allowing her to see enough to step over several pairs of sneakers. The room stank faintly of sweaty feet and cigarettes. “I got you, motherfucker,” she heard a slightly nasal though muted voice declare. She froze, until she realized it wasn’t directed at her.


In the living room, she could see PJ Padilla, smoking a cigarette, wearing a headset, and pounding away at an Xbox controller. He was a lanky, wiry man with a slight overbite that he tried to mask with a bushy mustache and beard, and closely cropped, curly hair. He was dressed in a pair of boxers and a black tank top, his arms and shoulders covered in tattoos, most prominent among them a crucifix. He sat on the couch, illuminated by the flickering of the television. On the end table an arm’s length away from him was a pistol and a cell phone. “All day,” he said triumphantly into the headset as a smile spread across his face, though he seemed to be keeping both his voice and the television down as if not wanting to wake up someone on the first or second floor.