2011 01 04 Super And Bat Sort Of

Log Title:
Super and Bat… Sort Of

Characters:
Hyperion and Black Widow

IC Date:
January 4, 2011

Location:
Hell's Kitchen

Brief log summary::
A brief meeting of heroes

Rating:
g

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
Thundering cracks, earth quaking rumbles, then a Ka-POW is heard which is quickly followed by another sound of an unconscious body being slammed against a brick wall.

All of these sounds originate within Hell's Kitchen, more specifically an alleyway where three costumed figures once fought, two are down, and only one remains standing. That figure wears a costume of red and yellow with a large flowing yellow cape. His face bares no mask, his hair is a dark red. He stands akimbo and looks down upon his former combatants (who would be recognized as Pile Driver and Thunderball), and questions, "Seriously? You thought you could stand against me?" which is followed by a chuckle.

Onlookers have gathered at the mouth of the alleyway, shooting pictures and capturing video with their smart phones which will soon upload to twitter and all the other streaming media sources.

One of the onlookers hasn't gathered at the mouth, but landed overhead on one of the fire escapes. She's likely been missed by the crowd, being all in black and very good at not being noticed when she doesn't want to be.

Black Widow's been content to just watch. It's Pile Driver and Thunderball against Hyperion. She really didn't think her help was needed, though she still had a bead on them just in case. Anyone can get lucky, after all. They don't, though, and she waits until they're down to let herself drop to the ground quietly.

"Having fun?" she asks the other hero as she smiles. Her eyes don't stay off the bad guys, though. Again, just in case. "I didn't think you needed a hand with them."

As his hands drop from his hips, his eyes look from the villains across the ground and then up the long legs of the Widow, eventually he finds her face as Hyperion smiles and states rather rhetorically, "Friend or Foe? Then again, it does not matter; Beauty is always a friendly sight." Then stepping over Piledriver, he offers his hand, "I am Hyperion, leader of the Squadron Supreme. We should leave this place together, the police will have these villains well in hand."

Natasha considers his question, her eyes flickering only briefly from the villains to the man who's still standing. "I don't think I'd want to be your foe." she observes, though she certainly doesn't look daunted at all by him. Then again, look at her teammates.

Taking his hand then, she replies "Black Widow, of the Avengers." Though she isn't actively watching the bad guys, she remains very aware of their condition. "I'm familiar with you, of course, and with the Squadron." Their files on 'interesting' people are pretty extensive.

Hyperion smiles as she takes his hand. He will step even closer with the intent of placing his other hand around her waist so that they can lift into the air together (his intent it to take them to the rooftop's nearby) while he comments, "Do the Avengers know that they've a member who, in name alone, is as dangerous as she is alluring?"

Black Widow arches a slender eyebrow as she's taken by the waist and lifted, but she doesn't seem concerned at all or off-balance by the sudden lack of ground beneath her feet. She smiles, then says "The Avengers know how dangerous I am, yes." So did most governments, even before she became one of the good guys.

Hyperion remains quiet during few seconds it takes before touching down upon the roof. Breaking from her, he steps around and gives her space. And once out of the camera's eye, he says in a more /normal/ tone. Less posh. "That's better. Sorry about the /telephone voice/ and the /flirting/. But the camera was on. Where I'm from (Earth-712), it's all about posturing and making a good impression. Seems that a good impression in this world is the faux heroic imagery. I'm Mark by the way. Mark Milton."

Watching his body language and tone change is fascinating for the heroine, and she studies him with great interest. "I quite understand." she replies to him. "The public has certain expectations. Fortunately, it seems more to apply to the men." She doesn't seem bothered by that, certainly. "You're the big, strong saviors, after all. We're the damsels, often in distress." Though, her eyes glint in a way that says she's not all that often in distress. "It's good to meet you, Mark. I'm Natasha." Her English is only slightly accented.

"Don't tell Zarda that." Hyperion says with a wary smile. "She would be significantly annoyed. Though, I doubt you're ever in distress. Tell me, from what country do you hail?"

Natasha chuckles. "Everyone's in distress sometimes." she notes to him. "But yes, I'm in distress less often than most others." Especially considering she's not exactly powered the way most of her teammates are. Her own place is sort of the one Batman might have elsewhere. "I was born in Russia, but I've traveled a lot."

"I suspected as much. In my own world we have… had such a place. Ruskia, where the vodka flowed pure." Hyperon tries to push away the dark thoughts of his own fallen world with thoughts of vodka. "And I have seen many photographs on your interweb. Though been unable to travel there. Iliam says there would be some international incident or some-such."

There's another chuckle. "We do have the finest vodka. Then again, if it isn't from Russia, I don't call it vodka. It seems an insult to the real thing." Black Widow replies. "And unless you can blend in a little more than you do right now, it might be problematic. Less so if you were known to be an American agent of some sort, but still problematic. I don't get back there often, myself."

"A fedora can only cover so much." Hyperion states with a smile of reference to other heroes who try to cover their features with such headwear.

Hyperion's gaze is averted as he seems to note something far off. Returning his attention to the Widow, "I hate to cut this short, but if you would excuse me. I see something that needs my attention." His feet leave the ground.

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