2011 01 10 Welcome To The Neighborhood

Log Title:
Welcome to the Neighborhood.

Daredevil Tombstone

IC Date:
10 Jan 2011

Hell's Kitchen, In a Crappy Barber Shop.

Brief log summary::
Tombstone holds a meeting to announce his intention to take over Hell's Kitchen. The established gangsters protest. Daredevil shows up. Fisticuffs ensue.


There is no TS in this log::

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Nearly an hour after closing time, an especially opulent-looking Range Rover pulls in front of an especially shabby-looking barber shop. This by itself might not be an especially noteworthy occurence, if the street didn't already have several other expensive cars parked along the curb. The jacked-up SUV idles for nearly a full minute before the doors begin to open. The driver gets out first, a smallish wiry-looking blonde man. He looks around the street suspiciously for a few seconds as the passengers begin to pile out.

Any time four scary-looking men in suits pile out of an SUV, something unkosher is probably about to happen. Especially when one of the men looks like a cross between Frankenstein and Jabberjaws. As the doors slam shut, the scary-looking guy peers down at the smallish wiry guy. "Stay with the car. This'll probably just take a minute. These guys are pushovers." Wordlessly, the little guy scowls and leans against the front of the car while Tombstone and his other two goons head toward the barber shop. Ignoring the fact that the lights are off and the 'Closed' sign is posted, Tombstone walks right inside, his head hitting the little bell above the door as he enters. As the door closes, one of Tombstone's thugs posts himself near the door, and begins playing Angry Birds while he guards the exit.

Some five blocks away, a figure clad in red lurks upon the stony ledge of the belltower at St. Michael's Church. He sits crouched upon a parapet that would seem far too precarious for a normal man, at ease like he was lounging around at home in the world's most comfortable easy chair. A gloved hand traces through the air before him, his nose crinkles just slightly and his head suddenly snaps to attention and turns to the right. And without a moment of hesitation, Daredevil is on the move.

An expensive car in Hell's Kitchen isn't much of a strange occurrence, no, but a congregation of them that isn't moving speedily to avoid being jacked certainly is. There is still a deal of distance between Daredevil and the thuggish men; a hand jolts out expertly before him to heave one baton which trails behind it a cable. As it clatters with a metallic clang to rap itself about a flagpole, the momentum carries the Man Without Fear in the direction of a neighboring rooftop. He hits the ground running.

Like a scene from an old gangster movie, all of the action is taking place in the back room of the shop. Unlike most gangster movies though, there are no old men present. Instead, a collection of hoods from various ethnic backgrounds has assembled itself. Different street gangs sporting different colors, all with questionable fashion sense. It makes Tombstone and his goon look even more impeccably dressed, as they're the only two in the room wearing suits. The various gang leaders seem to share a mutual apprehension, but they do their best to look tough when the giant rock-man enters.

Tombstone looks around for a bit, letting the silence thicken as his snake-like eyes connect with those of every single person gathered in the dingy back room. The apprehension grows, until one of the men finally speaks up. "If you got something to say, hurry up with it. I want to get back before Wheel of Fortune comes on."

Daredevil covers ground swiftly, the sound of someone in one of the apartment buildings dialling to hear the time informs him of the hour. As he lands upon a rooftop in the street with the expensive cars, the cable between the two batons he carries rapidly shrink into one manageable weapon that he deposits in the holster on his thigh. Falling into a crouch upon the ledge, he turns his face towards the building within which he can hear the voices. He focuses, blotting out the sound of the drug deal going down two blocks over, the noise of the two alley cats fighting or the old couple arguing loudly in Russian. He focuses his attention on the sounds coming from within the shop.

Some nervous laughter follows the man's joke, but it withers quickly when Tombstone begins staring hard at the joker. The man looks around for support, but finds none. Tombstone takes a few steps forward, moving himself to the center of the room, and getting rather close to the unfortunate jester. Suddenly, however, Tombstone's face breaks into a smile, showing off his pointy pearly yellows. "Fair enough. I'll keep this short since you turds have better stuff to do than entertain me. Ya'll heard what I did to Hammerhead. I'm gonna do that to everyone who pisses me off." He pauses for dramatic effect, and turns his back to the man who interrupted his silent staredown. "From now on, all of you are my bitches. You work for me. No more of this squabbling bullshit, I'm taking over everything and you're all going to be one big happy family of bitches. That's the name of your gang now: Tombstone's Bitches."

The expressions of all the men turn from apprehensive to openly hostile. However, there is apparently enough fear at work to keep any of them from protesting yet.

From his perch atop a building, a pigeon coop rustling with curious and dim-witted birds behind him, Daredevil listens intently. His ears zero in on the speaker, listening carefully to the every nuance of the voice until he comes to some internal conclusion. Unsatisfied, he leaps from the edge of the building and lands deftly upon the wooden post that carries power lines up and down the street. From that, his feet find the taut telephone wire that spans the street and he crosses it with grace. On the edge of the building housing the barber shop, he drops down from one ledge to another before he finds the second floor. A careful graze of his fingers over the locking mechanism and a weakness is found, prying the window open as silently as he can and secreting himself away inside the building proper - still focused on the conversation.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Time out." One of the more daring souls stands up, his hand instinctively reaching near his waistband for whatever crappy pistol he's hidden in his pants. "I know you're all 50 Cent now or whatever, but just because you're bulletproof don't mean you can come here and tell us how to do shit. We've been doing just fine, haven't we?" A quick glance around the room, during which a couple of people nod in agreement, or make some sort of grunt. "Are we gonna let this motherfucker call us bitches on our own turf?" The response is overwhelmingly negative.

Tombstone just smiles. He folds his arms across his chest and draws himself up to his full height. "Tell you what. I'm gonna give you all thirty more seconds to bitch and moan, and after that I'm gonna rip someone's arm off and shove it up someone else's ass. And I'm gonna keep doing that until either you all shut up, or you all got your arms up someone else's ass."

As tempers begin to flare within the shop, Daredevil decides to stop spying and start acting. It doesn't sound like much more information is going to be shared and it wouldn't be very heroic to let someone liberate a bunch of people of their limbs - even if they are scumbags of the lowest order. From his crouched position in the darkened upstairs of the shop, he withdraws the baton from it's holster on his thigh and taps it noisily against a length of exposed pipe. Enough to cause a very audible clang, as well as allow a wave of sonar to give him a very clear, mental image of where everyone is. He's already moving after striking the pipe, just in case they want to shoot first and ask questions later.

Nobody seems to like the imagery that Tombstone puts in their minds, but they also don't seem to think he's capable of following through with the threat. Guns start showing up in people's hands, until everyone in the room is pointing some sort of firearm at or near Tombstone's head. Tombstone leaves his arms folded, as if daring them to shoot him. His goon doesn't even bother pulling a gun out, he simply surveys the scene with morbid curiosity.

And then there's a clanging noise. Not everyone takes their eyes off of Tombstone, but most of them do. "You jumpy-ass bitches. Scared shitless over a little noise. Maybe I don't want none of you working for me. Maybe I'll just kill all of you and leave your bodies in the dumpster in some kind of… configuration." Tombstone mispronounces the word 'configuration', and lays an emphasis on it as though it means something dirty. One of the gangster's has had enough. "Man… fuck this asshole!" and with those eloquent words, he squeezes off a round, shooting Tombstone right in the forehead. The sudden shot is enough to distract everyone from the noises happening upstairs. Bullets begin flying. Most of them are aimed at Tombstone, but they go ricocheting off in all kinds of random directions.

Daredevil is a little surprised when the big tough guy gets shot in the face and his heartbeat doesn't stop - almost leaving him caught off guard when the bullets start flying.


As a few of them ricochet and lance through the dry old floorboards, Daredevil is on the move with a series or fluid motions. He seems to flow between the shafts of light created by the holes the bullets leave in the ceiling of the lit floor below. His senses working in communion with his athletic training to keep him unperforated.

It only takes him a moment to find a weakened point in the floor where the floorboards crack and the wood has been thinned by the feasting of termites. He lines himself up, above one of the goons flanking the monstrosity with the bulletproof dome, and with a sharp kick of his legs plunges through the floor to try and land heavily upon the man's shoulders. Even as he falls, he's thinking about his next move - one of the batons is flung through the air towards the gun hand of the mouthy guy who was just giving lip to Tombstone.

Fortunately, some of Daredevil's work has already been done for him. More than one gangster has been caught by a ricochet, though not all of them have noticed with their adrenaline running so high. Tombstone looks incredibly calm for a man who's in the process of being shot multiple times. It's clear from his posture that he's about to spring into action and lay a smackdown on someone. But then the roof comes crashing in. No one was expecting this. Tombstone looks bewildered, but the locals are quick to get a grasp of the situation. More than one variation of 'Shit! It's Daredevil!' is yelled at a frantic pitch. Some of the gangsters change their target, some of them keep shooting Tombstone, and the rest try their best to run out the door.

Daredevil doesn't pause for a moment to lead the gangsters get a bead on him. In all honesty, he's not much more than a flash of red - though that is more than enough to identify him in his own neighborhood. The ones shooting at him are the first people he targets, bringing the baton back to his hand with a practiced tug of the cable so he is holding the pair of them like escrima sticks. Moving through the cramped quarters of the barber shop, he comes to the briefest of stops behind one of the armed men who was shooting at him a moment ago. Just long enough to drive the end of the baton into the man's knee, aiming to make it bend in an excruciating, opposite direction. He does not speak, more interested in neutralizing the situation right this second.

"Daredevil?" Tombstone is able to make that much out over the Tarantino-esque amount of gunfire. As more people flee, and more people get knocked out, the gunfire slacks off considerably. Add to that the fact that most of the crooks are reaching the end of their magazines, and it's less noisy than the average nightclub in Hell's Kitchen. Even though his expensive suit has been ruined, Tombstone looks delighted. "Well shit, looks like Christmas came late for Ol' Tombstone. Go ahead and run bitches, I'll take this long-john-wearing turd out with my bare hands." And with that, he charges toward Daredevil, arms outstretched like the oversized villain from a Scooby-Doo cartoon. He even grunts like one of Scooby's monsters.

With the shooting over, Daredevil finally turns his attention to Tombstone - and just in time too, given the lunging monstrosity's fast approach.

"No touching, Boris Karloff."

His brain works fast behind his mask, weighing up his options based on the facts he's gathered from the fight so far. He turns slightly on his heels, leaping into the air in an effort to bring his body up and over the outstretched arms before they reach him. He passes through the air over Tombstone's head, cupping his hands just so in an effort to bring them down hard against the man's ears as he passes. A painful pressure point in most human beings, but who knows with a guy who shrugs off bullets? Worth a try, anyway.

Tombstone is far too busy lunging to think up a witty retort, or even to register his opponent's taunts. Despite his lumbering mass, he stops really quickly when his target is suddenly not in front of him anymore. Aside from his face tensing up in a grimace, and a guttural grunt, there's no indication that he even felt the attack on his eardrums. As he swiftly turns around, he seems to be a bit off-balance, but not enough that most people would even notice. He swings a heavy arm in the direction of the red blur, more of a swat than a punch. "Hold still so I can smack your punk-ass!"

Everyone seems content to let the two fight it out amongst themselves. The only one one bothers to stay behind, aside from the unfortunate souls who are already on the ground, is Tombstone's goon. His other goon is in the process of getting trampled by all of the people trying to make it out of the barber shop before the cops arrive.

Okay, scratch that. But Daredevil isn't about to give up just because the guy has eardrums of steel. He'll just have to keep trying. There is a whole number of weak points on the human body, and he's fast enough to keep trying them all without being caught - or at least he hopes he is, at any rate. When the hand comes around again, Daredevil brings the billy club up in an effort to strike a knuckle with it. He's already moving after the attempt, not willing to wait and see if it worked.

"So you're the Sally that gave Kingpin so much trouble?" As the billy club lands against Tombstone's hand he simply swings again, looking basically unphased. "I'm gonna mount you on the front of my ride, so everybody who sees me driving by will know what a bad motherfucker I am." Another swing. Tombstone's arms move pretty fast, but not fast enough to connect with anything it seems. "You're gonna make a real fancy hood ornament."

"You're welcome to try, big guy," Daredevil answers, rolling to the left and trying another daring attack - this time a double-footed kick against the back of Tombestone's right knee, "But the Kingpin had brains and brawn. So far, looks like you've just got a bulletproof face and a potty mouth. Maybe you can take over for the Matador, instead? Or Paste Pot Pete! You like glue?"

And now the fancy talking comes out, mostly as a way to keep the big guy distracted while he continues to search for ways to do him harm.

With a loud 'Oof!' Tombstone topples to the floor. His knee drives into the ground, making a sizeable dent in the linoleum. The force from the strike is enough to make him involuntarily roll all the way onto his side after hitting the ground, but he is quick to recover. With one hand on the ground for balance, he draws himself into a stance from which he could easily lunge across the room from. "You're tricky, I'll give you that, but being tricky isn't gonna do you any good when I smuch you like a bitty little bug." And with that, he leaps across the room again, arms outstretched.

"Seriously? Another lunge? No wonder you took over for Hammerhead. Just a lot of running into people. You've even got the bulletproof head thing down."

From his crouched position on the floor on the opposite side of the room, Daredevil's radar sense picks up the lumbering brute heading straight towards him. This time he seeks out another possible point of vulnerability, slinging his baton in the direction of the big guy's eyes. They're not gonna poke him or do much damage, but they can certainly stun if the timing is right. Unfortunately, the throw would not be enough to divert Tombstone even if it does hurt him and he's not able to get out of the way of the lunge in time.

Off in the distance, the sound of police sirens gradually gets louder. "Boss! It's the pigs!" The goon from the main area of the barber shop yells towards the back room. The other goon has pretty much stayed out of the fight. It's obvious that he isn't used to seeing his boss lose.

However, Tombstone has not only left himself exposed, he's made himself an easy, obvious target. The baton slams right into his right eye, elliciting a sharp howl of pain from Tombstone. He's moving with sufficient force to still hit his target, but as his dead weight slams against Daredevil, he is too busy clutching his face to attack his opponent further. "Son of a bitch!"

Seeing Tombstone in pain is cause enough for the surprised goon to pull his pistol out. The sound of the safety clicking to the off position can be heard as he points the weapon in Daredevil's general direction.

A nasty, vicious grin spreads across Daredevil's features as he finds the weak point he's been fighting hard to uncover this entire time. He climbs quickly to his feet, the weight of the man having struck him but not enough to pin him just yet. As Tombstone howls with pain, the Man Without Fear hears the familiar rustle of cloth and the sharp sound of a safety switch grinding across metal. He's already moving when the goon has drawn his gun, an avenging demon falling down upon the man as he moves the baton about in his hand. He clasps one end, driving the other sharply across the man's chin. Perhaps a little harder than he should, a bit of bloodlust boiling over within him.

"GAAAAH!" A rage-soaked howl comes from Tombstone's corner as he slowly stands back up. He turns around in time to see his lackey fall to the ground. "You're a dead man! A fucking corpse!" Another rustle of clothing can be heard as Tombstone pulls out a gun of his own. Shots start going off, even as the sirens get louder and louder. "Boss! We've gotta go!" is quickly followed by "Screw this, I'm outta here." The little bell above the door chimes as Tombstone's other lackey runs out to the waiting Range Rover. More shots continue, as Tombstone starts unloading his magazine as fast as his finger can pull the trigger.

Daredevil moves with the sort of grace one just does not see in normal human beings, which is probably why most of the criminal element who are familiar with him think him to be much more. Even as Tombstone fires at him he is moving, seeming to anticipate where the bullets will land and making a point of not being there. He's not superhuman, though, and one grazes his arm while the other cuts a deep gash in his upper thigh. The adrenaline is pumping fast, though, and he scarcely slows down. He decides to use another of his advantages, the fact that he does not need light. As he ducks swiftly to the side, he heaves the baton to break the light bulb.

"I've got you now," he says in the dark, still moving, "And we'll see how invulnerable you are when I pluck those eyes right out of your skull."

A loud click signifies the end of Tombstone's magazine. "Shit!" Operating with only one eye open is an inconvenience, but the sudden darkness is a crippling handicap. "We'll see how stupid you are when I stomp you into a puddle!" Tombstone isn't much good for clever comebacks. Even though things aren't going his way, Tombstone doesn't seem truly concerned. He takes a couple of steps backwards, finding the wall behind him. However, the sirens keep getting louder, and he probably has less than a minute before they are on him. "You're lucky I don't got time for this shit. I'll see you again real soon though, I'm taking over New York, starting with this neighborhood." And with that, he slams his arm into the wall. The sound of concrete smashing fills the room as a large hole is made in the wall. A swift kick takes out more of the wall, leaving a hole large enough for him to jump through. Which he does.

Daredevil would give chase. In fact, there is a lot in him that is screaming to track the guy down and strike him roughly about the head until those eyes pop out. But that would be wrong. That's not what he's about and there are police on the way. He can't afford to waste time explaining himself to them. The trail may be lost in the confusion, the sirens fogging up his 'sense' of the world around him, but at least now he knows the guy will be sticking around. They'll fight another day.

By the time the police arrive, Daredevil is gone.

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