2012 02 01 Unbridled Violence

Log Title:
Unbridaled Violence

Characters:
Spider-Man (also emitting the criminals and the wedding party), Firestar, Black Knight, Sandman, and Dajan

IC Date:
2/1/2012

Location:
Central Park

Brief log summary::
Thugs try to profit off a high profile wedding. Spider-Man gets to show off one of his lesser-known talents.

Rating:
pg13

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::
Dane Whitman finds himself at Midtown, taking one moment to just be himself. Its a rare moment in his life, for when he's not dawning the mantle of Black Knight, he tends to focus on research and scientific endeavors - anything to basically keep his mind occupied with thoughts other than his own personal ghosts. Today, however, finds the man near MOMA, hands thrust into the pockets of a black leather jacket, white t-shirt underneath, blue-blue jeans (natural towards dark, not dyed), and tanned construction boots. He stops outside the Museum as if admiring the design by Frank Lloyd Wright, or debating whether or not he should go in even. Like others not having to work, he's enjoying the uncommonly fair weather as it begins to reach up into the 50's today, mid-winter no less. As he contemplates, he more really seems like a man finally with free time that has no idea what to do with that time.
Dajan is enjoying a rare day off from her job. The fact that someone from the Fantastic Four called in for her couple days of missing work was a source of pride to the owner, even though said celebrities have yet to show up. Perhaps it was the brush with fame. Either way, Phil let Dajan have a day off. And with the weather so nice, Dajan used it to return the shoes and jacket she borrowed, and is now seeking to do something else touristy. She glances in the direction of the museum, biting her lower lip and wrinkling her freckled nose in thought. "C'mon, girl, go get you some culture," she chides herself, and starts off in that direction.

Remaining where he is, Dane continues to stare at the building to the point one might think the building is winning the staring contest. That is until someone else begins heading for the entrance and, like himself, they too are alone. "Is it going to impress me," he calls out, not quite a chuckle in his voice, as if unsure with his question. Taking a few steps, he is heading as if to converge with the woman going to get some culture. "I mean, the Museum," then he looks unsure if he's saying that correctly even. "I've never gone in, as much as I've lived here …" Nearly a smile, something of a chuckle in his voice at first, he seems stoic when he makes the admission of nevery having seen some of the greatest of contemporary art of the 20th Century.

Dajan freezes, when the man shouts out to her, then blinks, startled, when he steps up beside her. "Um, dunno, honestly, sir," she says politely, Louisiana accent lilting mildly through her voice (which is, truth to tell, a little on the hoarse side, possibly also contributing to her boss giving her a day off). "I'm new in town, myself. First experience with it for the both of us, then." She offers a smile, recovering from her momentary startlement. Her luck has swung to the extremes in this town, and she's of the mind that whichever /this/ is — it will at least be interesting.

Perhaps noticing the shock perhaps and then the momentary relaxation from the woman, Dane catches himself again. "That was random," he offers, taking a hand from a pocket and hitching a thumb over his shoulder. It indicates where he started from and called out his curiousity to her. "Just, I think I needed to hear another voice, or I never would've went in," same hand comes back to brush fingers through his short, dark brown hair, not quite black. It always seems in place, slightly combed to the right side of his body, and the fingers push it back slightly as they pass through but it springs right back to the position it was in formerly - really too short for anything else probably. "Look … I'm Dane and to be honest, if you don't mind the company, maybe we could figure it out together?"

"Don' worry about it," Dajan says, with a mild, but winsome smile. "I'm gettin' used to this city t'rowin' surprises at me." She tilts her head like a curious kitten as he speaks of needing to hear another voice. A big, handsome dude like him suffers from shyness? Her eyes widen and warm in sympathy to her perception of his issue. "Dajan LeDoux," she adds in introduction. "An' that sound like fun t'me." She offers him her hand to shake. Should he take it, he'll find that she doesn't do the quick, fingertips-only girly handshake. She shakes the way guys usually do: firm grip, solid strength, but without that tendency to squeeze hard to prove the machismo (or machisma, in this case).

Taking the hand, Dane smiles as well, warming up with her reception to the idea. He flashes his pearly whites even, straight as they are. "Dajan, I like that … I imagine it stirs a few questions. I get the same," being the boy named Dane after all. "Fun and surprise, this city is definitely full of that." A simple agreement he turns to look at her, back stepping a little towards the door to see if they're indeed going in, he'll turn back around to face forward if she comes along. "Sounds like you're new maybe? I might guess where you from," as if the accent didn't place it within one, maybe two states of origin with most people inclined towards the big L. "But I'd be more interested in knowing what brought you here."

"It does," Dajan assures her new acquaintance. "That, an' jokes about mustard." She gives a brief roll of her eyes as if in rememberance of her school days. "I like Dane," she adds. "Sounds dignified." She quickens her pace to match his longer one, doing this almost unconsciously. "Only been in the city li'l more than a month, yeah," she confirms in response to his question. "And, well, I had an opportunity to pick wherever I felt like goin'. An' my folks, they were on the one hand talkin' about how awesome this city is…an' on the other tellin' me it's …" she pauses, searching for words, "A hive of scum an' villainy, for want of a better phrase. So naturally, when the opportunity presented itself, I could scarce resist."

"If the city keeps surprising you after only a month, you've probably seen more of it than me," grins Dane finally, "I've been coming back and forth to New York for over a decade now, and I haven't been out much at all." Then he fake authortative voices, "Must be the hive of scum and villiany." Then he looks up at the building and beyond at the sky. "You know, its waited this long, the art will be there every day. Maybe we could just walk or something. I'd be interested in hearing more of how awesome the city is …" Suggesting a walk and talk were he hears more of her voice and mannerisms and about her past.

"No, not really," Dajan gives a shake of her hair, setting her flufffy cloud of hair to swaying slightly. "Just been sort of in the right place at the right time. Or maybe the wrong place at the right time. Somethin' like that." She grins, sheepishly, a brief blush pinking under her freckles. "Yeah, you right — it's the first day I din' have to convince myself to get outta my warm bed to come out the house!" She does an exaggerated shiver. "I was not prepared for how serious New York takes winter. So good idea to make the mos' of the day while the weather agreeable." She pivots on one foot, slim form turning on a dime away from the museum steps. "I've never seen Central Park. Mus' be gorgeous with the snow on the ground." Well, slush.

"Ah," responds Dane, smiling, "Then it is agreed, we shall both see Central Park. Plenty left to explore for myself." Any times prior was usually on the heels of villians or crossing dimensions, his spirits lighten up some even. "Hopefully this is the right place then," he affirms on them meeting like this outside of MOMA. "Can't say I mind that, just if you keep shivering, I'll have to give you my jacket or something." It could indeed be outdated, part of his joking in what he says and yet a serious truth in his voice, suggesting Dane is the sort of man that would do just that. "You and good weather though, in the same day, I'm chalking this up to right place right time, truth be told."

Really Central Park has a bad reputation amongst the world. The only time non-New-Yorkers hear about it tends to be the times that it's reported in the news about some horrible crime or mugging or the like. For the denizens of the city it's a beautiful place at times, the only glimpse of wilderness that can be seen even though it's cultivated wild. For some people it has a significance, one of the most donated to services in the city, New Yorkers tend to want to keep their glimpse of trees in decent repair of late.

So it might come only as a mild surprise to the people of New York when there in the middle of winter there's a series of tents set up in one of the central gathering areas. Normally a place reserved for summertime cavorting and picnicing, in this winter time it's usually deserted with the lingering piles of snow still hanging around until the great thaw.

But for some reason today of all days those tents are set up. It's a time for celebration. A portion of the park has been cordoned off, there are some police officers to handle traffic, and apparently some of the city's cultural elite have gathered to join the hands of some of their brethren in holy matrimony.

Sure it's an affectation to have it here where the happy couple met, and on the same day as they met two years ago. Most people want weddings during the spring or even summer, but not these two.

So there are many cars parked along the roads and in the parking lot, there are a set of six tents where the guests can mingle and the ceremony will be performed, not to mention all the catering with servers hustling back and forth between tents.

Inside the tents it's a festive time, decorated all in monochromes leaning towards the white end of the spectrum, there's brilliant ice sculptures upon the tables, large buffets, a rock band playing love music, and all sorts of fancily dressed people cavorting.

To some this sort of shindig could be the thing of the season. Amongst the social elite invitations were desperately sought after things, prized by those who gained them.

The walk uptown from where Dajan met Dane outside MOMA, is fairly quick and without incident. At the moment, the streets are thick with cars rather than foot traffic, though with the weather being milder, New Yorkers will probably be out in droves on lunchbreaks to take advantage of it.

"Oh, no, I'm good, honest," Dajan waves off his offer of a jacket. "Finally got me a decent coat, yeah." She glances sidelong at him, eyes wide. Was that flirtatious? It was? Was it? She opts not to comment on it. That sheltered upbringing she hinted at must've been something serious. "You very kind," she says, finally, in response to the compliment in his words. She stops short, seeing all the white fabric and hubbub. "Ooh, looks like somet'ing goin ' on." She pulls her lips into a thin, self-effacing smile. "See what I mean about right place, right time?"

"Oh, nice," is all Angelica has to say to that, clearly, not being best familiar with either bride or groom as she's taken a friend's invitation just to have an excuse to wear a dress for once. "Well, actually," and just like that she even has to admit it, "I got the invitation from a friend who couldn't attend, but I do so love weddings, very romantic." Angel behaves herself and reaches for a glass of cider, non alcoholic, even though she does have a chance to get some champagne without anyone noticing. She's a good girl. "Ever been to a wedding like this before? I think it's very cool that they're doing it in the open, in the park."

Walking right alongside Dajan, Dane is present, sans helmet and all that, just a regular guy in a black jacket. Smiling sheepishly, to an extent, as he walks with the woman even, being normal for once. It was flirtatious, flirtatious for him too even - not abruptly forward, but an attempt. He shakes his head at the thought of kindness, as if wanting her to say nothing of it or any man should act this way. "My luck again, you found something that beats out a day at the museum - once in a lifetime sort of deal right?" He looks on ahead at the tents and the like, noting security perimeters, taking in police force even, which only raises his curiosity about the whole event, "Should we go scope it out, see if we can figure out who's who?" As if, he's not in the know and wasn't aware of this big ordeal, but that doesn't mean they can't try and figure what is going on.

"Well, as open as a heated tent can be with all the rest of the world locked out and people handing you food and stuffs." A gleam of bitterness touches the redheaded boy's attitude as he mentions this, then realizes that that sort of thing won't necessarily be what imprsses a girl he's just met. "I mean, uhm, you know. Just seems a bit much doesn't it? But then I guess if you're going to get married you should try to do it right."

Meanwhile, without that main tent there are five more that are seeing a good hustle and bustle. Part of the street is blocked off and there are some police officers still dealing with traffic and helping with the parking. There's also some men in suits with earpieces that seem to be handling some of the security. Right now there's still a fairly steady flow of guests, people wandering in and even a few wandering out.

"Celebrities?" Dajan muses pensively, in response to Dane's suggestion they determine what the event seems to be about. "Maybe politicians?" She ponders for a moment, then takes a deep breath, calling her new trick to the fore. It's not visible from outside because it happens at such a cellular level, but she rearranges the construction of her ears, slightly — enough to amp her hearing well beyond human levels. Not enough that she can hear everything going on in the neighborhood; the trees muffle out a lot of it, and so do the cars — but she'll at least be able to pick up snips of conversation. "Maybe they're makin' a movie…"

"Errr…I guess you could look at it that way, but then, most weddings aren't open for just anyone who wants to come in, right?" Angel is clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable with the red haired boy's comment, which is a bit mean at that given moment in time. Quieting down, Angel sips from her cider and turns to look at the crowd, "I wonder if all these people really are friends and family, I think if I had to invite all my friends and family I would maybe get 10 people at best."

"Well, these are like, you know, people who if they didn't show up would probably get in trouble." The kid says this easily, and then he blinks at her for a moment. "Anyways, I gotta go, have fun!" And as quick as that he starts to move away from Angelica, clearly something else grabbing his attention.

Meanwhile on the outside, Dajan and Dane are able to watch the movement of the people, the shifts of the crowd. They'll probably catch glimpses of the city's elite, high society types who often frequent the more exquisite to-dos about the city. Across the way is a city councilman, over there is an actress who has a play on Broadway at the moment.

Of course that's the moment when Dajan might hear with that enhanced hearing of hers a snippet of conversation that doesn't fit with the usual discourse given at a wedding.

// Careful with that, using those makes the difference between the chair and life in prison, fella. //
// Shut it, I know what I'm doing. Gimme a count down. //
// All right, From 30. 25. 20… //

And the countdown continues.

Moving along, Dane tries to give them some room in the growing pedestrian traffic by being stereotypical muscled male. He doesn't appear to move out of anyone's way, standing square shouldered such that his frame invites others to step around him. Those who try to square off in a same manner get an eye from him. Other than that, he's more focused on the events unfolding as he takes in his surroundings while conversationally Dajan occupies his foremost thoughts. "Maybe one of us could be an extra even," but for the first time perhaps,that isn't a genuine thought, at is offered as if he has to offer that. Something that might be normally conversational, but he has no interest in being an extra. He does say, this more honest, "You'd look good on film I bet." He says it before he realizes that could actually be taken quite the wrong way, a flush of pink to his cheeks as well.

Angelica just shakes her head, the boy was obnoxious, nothing like Sam Guthrie, when she met him last time she's been to a fancy event, even if that wasn't quite a wedding back then. Sighing, she drinks the rest of her cider while surveying the crowd, not quite approaching anyone at the moment. She casually approaches one of the waiters to sample a pastry, nibbling on it slowly. Blissfully unaware that even this wedding might get interrupted soon, though honestly, she half expected it, she is of the mind she is cursed and can never have a good time in such events.

Dajan is glancing around like — well, like the tourist rube she still is. The novelty of New York City hasn't worn off in a month. She wouldn't know a local Broadway actress if said actress walked up and bit her, but she's letting the excitement and her curiosity sweep her up some. Who knows who she might see for the first time — in /person/ even! "An extra?" she repeats, smiling enthusiastically. "Wouldn't that be someth—" and she trails off, as the wind, or a gap in the crowd, brings her a particular snip of conversation. She frowns, eyes narrowing in concentration. She holds up a finger to forestall Dane from saying anything else for a second so she can listen with all her attention. This is a use of her gift she has some practice at, having used it to keep on top of her sibs, and the gossip at school so as to keep the family from being outed. So she filters through for context, mulling the words, before she has to come to a very unnerving conclusion.

"…sac au lait," she whispers, whirling around to look up at her companion with an expression of alarm. She reaches to grab his elbow, having just enough presence of mind to keep her voice to a whisper as she turns to him. "Dane, if this ain't a movie, there's a serious problem … I think somebody got a bomb up in here!" Her sudden shift in attention means she completely missed the last bit of his remark, let alone being able to take it the wrong way. She hasn't even taken into consideration what she'll say if he wants to know how she knows that.

Finally able to head outside, despite the winter weather, Bill Baker ventures outside dressed in his usual garb, costume and civvies all in one. Green and black striped shirt and brown trousers, making his way into the park, he is surprised to see the wedding occurring, but has a little smile on his face. Spotting Dane, he quickly walks over to him, "Hey Dane." He looks at the person with him and tilts his head sorta thinking he knows this person.

There's that pregnant pause that is present there right after Dajan makes that pronouncement. As soon as she gets it out it's only a span of ten, fifteen seconds before the reverie is broken and there's a loud crackling sound that lashes across the distance and suddenly pounds the area with waves of sonic impact.

It's a loud, CRACK-WHAM-CRACK-WHAM! that sounds as Dajan and Dane have a perfect position to observe a silverish sphere or orb drop from underneath various vehicles in the parking area, off of the squad cars, and even from a few of the park benches. They snap and lash the air with bright electricity that serve to strike many of the men who had been holding their positions guarding the comings and goings of the guests. Electricity lashes over their forms, the men in black crumpling to the ground, the police officers dancing a shocking dance and falling over.

And then, in the next instant, from the service tent emerge a large group of men in tails and tuxedoes and masks.
Within, Angelica probably hears the sounds, the sudden cessation of conversation and activity. But then the strong shouting voices of some of the servers are heard as they produce silvered weapons, like chrome-plated firearms that they heft up and take aim as they begin to shout. "Get down! Everyone get down!"

(Why did I fool myself into thinking I will just go to a wedding and have a good time) O o . Angelica thinks to herself as she's quick to hit the deck, frowning as she gets her nice blue dress dirty in the processes, looking around at the confusion she starts to crawl ever so slowly towards the edge of the tent, meaning to sneak outside from underneath so that Firestar can return for a word or two with these tasteless criminals. Who robs a wedding? That is so unromantic!

Dajan has barely had a chance to whisper her warning when the area is suddenly filled with … a loud noise that makes her wince, flinch, and clutch at her ears. She's already shifting her hearing back to normal human spectrum when the air fills with —flying taser balls?! — which down a lot of the apparent staff for the event. The masked guys emerge. "I … don' think this is a movie," she says solemnly. So much for a nice day at the park. "I tink we bes' move." Her accent is a little stronger now that she's agitated and her concentration split. She moves to duck behind one of the many decorative boulders dotting the park. Hearing trouble is one thing; being able to do anything about it is another. She glances back for Dane, having expected him to follow.

Smiling, Dane turns stoic again as the blush fades. Blinking a moment as he looks at Dajan and her listening, he's been around long enough to know she might not be a normal girl when she informs him of a bomb or something. "How and where," he ponders to Dajan, implying how do you know and where is this suspicion coming from. There is a curious brow raise at the arrival of Bill, glad to see the other isn't in a wheel chair. Seeing as he doesn't come with costume change and is doing the secret identity thing. That's when a certain compound hits the fan and everything starts going crazy. Torn between what to do and what not to do, he knows he has to act, too many innocents with all this electric whips and tailed/tuxedoes men pouring out of random cars and vans and tents and such. So, he does the next best thing, he takes out a flash light at his hip and fires up what looks like a light saber. Then to Bill, "We ever get a day off around here?" With his other hand he's opening his jacket and clicking a signal on his Avengers Communicard, setting off that there is an incident at his global location and that Avengers are at the scene, not a call to Assemble. He looks hopelessly at Dajan, he has to go - towards the chaos. He begins going forward towards nearest group (electric guys or gun guys, they look dangerous enough). "Desist now or you shall be brought to justice," he calls out, lacking a good battle cry for the moment. He seems pretty serious, all he needs is his black helmet. He doesn't give a public cry of his authority in the situation given he is acting under his secret identity.

Hearing the ruckus, Sandman tries to be quick to act but after the ordeal with the Sinister Six and recently being brought back to life, it takes a few seconds as opposed to milliseconds. He tries to shift to his pssamic form and lets out a loud guttural scream when suddenly his whole body shifts into a sand humanoid form. He seems stiff a moment as he takes a few steps and yells out, "Come on!" Finally elongating his form he zigs and zags a moment responding to Dane, "Even crippled, I get no freakin' day off." Stretching his form over towards the source of the battle.

The mass of men that had been running towards the main tent seem taken aback for a moment, even as some of the fallen men around them twitch and twist with the currents of electricity that residually throw through their form, blue arcs of seeming lightning dancing over them. There's a pause, Dane's words causing them a hitch in their step. They're all in black masks, all in a servant's tuxedo, and all seem armed. Some have the hand-sized weapons, while others have silvered circular weapons that take up the entirety of their lower arm.

In that instant when Dane and Sandman make themselves known, two of the masked men confer for a bare instant. One gestures to the would-be heroes, the other nods and continues toward the tent.

A third of the men, approximately six or seven turn to face the coming of the Knight and the Sandman. One brings up the heavy silvery weapon on his arm and a huge electrical burst /JOLTS/ out to lash the air and assault the area the men are standing, even while the others bring their weapons up, sending flickering flashes of electrical power towards them.

Inside the tent, the armed men are already moving amongst the crowd. Their voices lifting to shout, "This one?"
"No."

"This one?"

"Yeah she's on the list."

"What about this guy?"

"Yeah him."

And within they start to seperate some people from the crowd, as each one is chosen they get a man to stand beside them with their weapons held to the hostage's head. "Get em prepped for evac." Is said as some thumbcuffs are applied to each.
Having successfully sneaked outside of the tent, Angelica frowns as she surveys the damage to her dress very briefly, before rushing to a public restroom or a sufficently secluded spot to change into Firestar! Only then does she return to the tent, burning her way inside through the top of the tent. Yeah, these guys are rich, they can afford it. "Okay, so looks like some people can't respect the sanctity of marriage, eyes up here bozos, nobody gets away with ruining a couple's special day!"

Dajan glances around after hearing no response from her new acquaintance. To her astonishment, not only is Dane /not/ ducking for cover, he's giving her a boyishly handsome apologetic look, then turning with a purposeful stride to move /toward/ the trouble. She stares after him with wide eyes. As a result, she also is treated to the sight of the Sandman with him, and blinks, reflexively flinching again. Sandman, she knows, from previous acquaintance, is an Avenger. And, apparently back on his feet. Still, their last meeting was not a cordial one, which behooves her not to go after Dane right away. At Sandman's scream, she winces again. He's in clear pain and still not hesitating to help Dane, an apparent friend.

"Yeah, all well an' good, chere," she tells herself, "But what can /you/ do in this sitch?" What indeed — now that she's asked herself the question, she realizes she can be stealthy while the others are being bombastic. Another second of concentration is all it takes for her fingernails to lengthen and harden into claws. A couple swipes to the right place will blind or cripple. She has brothers — fighting dirty is something she had to learn early. She pulls the red scarf out of her coat and ties it around her head, crumpling down her hair and winding it around her face to cover her face, leaving only her eyes and the freckle-dappled bridge of her nose exposed. Rather ironic, given she had an actual ninja mask on only days ago. "Shouldn't'a tossed da ting," she mutters to herself as she sprints for the tent where the action seems to be converging.

As Sandman easily overtakes him going for the battle, Dane calls to him, "Its Karma - Thor knows we ate the mutton, this is payback." Straight faced, but it was a stab at humor, literal and nearly figurative. Then as he gets nearer the suited thugs, that is when the huge jolt of electricity is thrown there way. Arching up slight then into their area, There is little he can do but hold up his sword. Pure Photon, set to force, it could block single bolt but it can't stop something of that size unless he was closer to the source. As it engulfs him and there is some burning of hair along his arms, there is another crack, this one signalling something travelling in fast and furious. This to Dane's luck, the signal sent from his communicard summoned the Automic Steed and as his jacket begins to singe and smolder, the metalic horse flies in over head. Beginning to wince, the horse swoops down in a nick of time moment as Dane's hand goes up to grab the passing vehicle. Swining himself around and over, he mounts the steed. He charges lance style for the goons, using the force setting to attack the weapons to prevent further energy discharges if possible, calling out, "Bill, the big guy, he'll kill me if he hits me again," himself focusing on the little guns

"Dane, I got this." The overconfident recently injured hero, attempts what would usually be an easy trick for him. Sandman leaps up in the sandform and tries to form into a sandstorm. Unfortunately he ends just dropping drips of sand. Grimacing. He makes another attempt. Howling, he grins as the sand in his body starts to swirl, "Yeah, like I said…I got this." Suddenly and quickly he is into the air, his form scattered into minute sand gains which spin about like a tornado aiming for the approaching men. When the steed arrives, Sandman attempts to show some control over the sand tornado and attempts his best to not suck the steed and its rider into his sandstorm.

The blasts were fired at full spread and full power, attempting to take the heroes down as quickly as possible. The man with the heavy launcher lowers the weapon and flips open a panel on its surface, fingers stabbing a series of commands into the interface there even as it hums with that high pitched whine of the recharging device.

The other men facing Dane, Dajan, and Sandman bring their smaller arms up and try to keep them pinned down. Only to have the swirling lashing form of Sandman slash through the air and lash out amongst them. They bring their arms up, covering the mouths of their masks as chaos ensues. Quickly their coordination crumbles as some of them begin firing randomly, turning inwards partially in an attempt to find some target or other, losing track of Dane and Dajan.

Within the tent the sudden appearance of Firestar is met with trepidation, but curiously a measure of control. Silvered weapons are raised by some of the gunmen as even through the main entryway the dozen or so men that had been charging forth make their entrance. Firestar is covered with the weapons, and her glowing form is watched as some of the men hold ready. One's voice lifts, "Keep working, she's not going to do anything while we got the hostages. Are ya girly?"

As if to emphasize that point the 'leader' of the group grabs an older woman by the hair and /yanks/ sharply, pulling her off her feet and holding her before him in Firestar's direction. "Calm down, cape. Or we start seeing corpses."

Dajan arrives in the tent to see Firestar glowing and drawing all the attention of the ones with the weapons. Good. She doesn't announce herself, and should any freaked out hostage or civilian spot her, she'll just put a finger to where her lips belong behind her makeshift mask.

The gloves she ruined by forgetting to take them off before she decided to go for the claws. A moment of indecision. Their gun hands, or their hamstrings? She chooses the latter going for the first thug who is bullying a frightened matron. Working the diner circuit and carrying heavy trays of food has served her well. Putting her full strength into it, she leans hard as she slashes at the back of his trousers. Fabric and flesh tear, and blood will jet from the freshly opened wounds if she managed to get deep enough on her pass. Dajan doesn't stick around long enough to think about that and let it quease her. There are others with weapons who need to be disabled, but that should at least distract them enough for her to continue trying to diminish the numbers Firestar faces.

"I see you guys haven't been following too many news items about the New Warriors, right? Are your weapons microwave safe?" Firestar asks as if casually, and yet at the same time she does pinpoint the weapons with her radiation, heating them up to test how long the men dare hold them in their hand, risking burning injuries. Of course, there's the oddd chance of possible combustion in the criminals' hands. "I apologize for not properly introducing myself, it's not girly, it's Firestar!"

Amidst the torrent of winds, the atomic steed is somewhat affected as it slows down to pick Dane up. He turns it away from the swirling Sandman, it seeming to slow down some, but like a Harley, he fires all cylinders and it stablizies and makes its way out. From there, he reassess while taking a spare helmet out of a compartment. This one intended for a potential passenger most likely, its just a black helmet with a dark visor … no gold trim or anything fancy. Good for Dane, before someone capture's him on cellphone or camera and his identiy goes public. "All your Bill," he claims as he seems to have most of the goons confused and chaotic. He looks for some crowd control - more goons free of the sandstorm tornado or other situations that may draw his attention. He does not go for the main tent.

"So whose weddin' is this anyway? And do ya think they had an Ares style bachelor party" Sandman's disembodied voice asks as within his storm frame the seven men fire randomly but any stray shots go right through the sand. The lower half of the storm continues to spin around the men, but the apex of the storm starts to take a form as Sandman forms the upper part into two large fists and slams them into the ground backed with strength, "Time to end this!"
With that heavy formation of fists and their slamming drop onto the bewildered men, the Sandman's able to send them flying. Several of their weapons clatter out of their grips, while some others are dropped unconscious with the force of the impact. The end result is that that detachment that had been tasked with holding off the heroes… has failed.

Meanwhile from above, Dane gets a good eyeball of the situation. Whomever may have planned this took their security plans into account rather well as none of the on-site security is able to react. The entrance to the main tent is secured by one of the teams, and within there seems to be a ruckus as voices are lifted loudly.

Meanwhile, within that tent, Angelica's able to focus as she raises the temperature of some of the weapons aimed at her. The men react as they feel their weapons grow hotter and hotter, several dropping them to the ground, markedly the ones holding the weapons on the hostages. However, that allows a quartet of them who had secured the perimeter to bring their own weapons up. Instead of firing at people they take their shots at Firestar, lightning flashes lashing across the distance towards the floating heroine.

Yet one of those shots instantly goes astray as he's beset upon from behind by the wild Dajan. He catches sight of her at the last moment and is able to simply say, "Hey!" Even as her attack slashes true, sending him down onto his side as he screams.

Firestar looks pleased that she managed to disarm most of her targets, particularly the one with a hostage, but then there are more of them, and she gets a chance to put impressive aerial display of her skills in evasive maneuvers, zipping through shots of lightning aimed at her, but at least having to focus on evasive spares the criminals below raining fire, for the time being, "you creeps better clear this wedding pronto, because you couldn't take the heat of a long tango with me!"

Nice trick, Dajan, but the noise of the screaming man is drawing attention right to her. That means they are probably not going to give her another opening. That's fine. She's a quick thinker, and the environment provides her her plan B.

Another thing she did with her brother was watch old professional wrestling shows on TV, and it's that memory which serves her well now. She reaches for a fancier-than-usual folding chair, hefts it for weight. She gives a short, shrill, warning whistle through her teeth to any civilians not currently encumbered, so they can get out of the way. This also gets some of the thugs looking toward her rather than the brilliant Firestar doing aerobatics above. Satisfied, Dajan swings back and wings the chair at the nearest cluster of thugs, like a large, ungainly Frisbee. Once she's done that, she reaches with other hand to shred free some of the tent moorings, with a view to dropping canvas over them so they can be easily corralled.

Circling back near the fists of Sandman but out of the torrent, Dane calls down, "Aye Bill, Nymphs in the Main Tent, still don't know who arranged the soiree, but there might be answers. I'm going to crash the party now, join me when you're hands are free." One hand on the mechanic 'reigns,' the other lifts his photon sword up high and he dives for a team of goons at the main entrance. He readies the sword to deflect any small fire on his approach - which is slightly askew as he intends to line them up for a lancing charge. Should he effectively get there, he levels his sword to use the flat of the force blade rather than the cutting edge. He steadies his speed and swing so that he doesn't flatline them when he hits (his sword capable of shaking up the likes of the Hulks or the Thing with a good hit), but knocks them over at least. "You were warned, persist and face the full fury of the Black Knight," saying he won't hold back next pass.

Reforming and using some the sand that is by the lake within central Park, Sandman once again resumes his pssamic humanoid form, but increases his height. With the armed men outside dealth with, he rises up to about 30 feet. Not his maximum, but he has already spent himself with the sandstorm trick. "Well, BK, I got two hands I can give." Elongating them to reach the top of the tents, he grabs ahold attempting to yank it away, "Time to get some light on in there."
Outside the tent it's mayhem. The Black Knight is able to line up his strike and line it up well. His blade flashing brilliantly as his steed brings him around and he makes the charge. The men had been getting ready to accept attackers, for someone to come at them with all the sounds of the ruckus, but they didn't expect something from high above. Only at the last moment the group of four men spot him, one lifting his weapon and getting off a shot as he shots, "Look out!"

But the damage is done. They scatter, getting each other's way and then /WHAM!/ he strikes cleanly and most of them are down. One seems at least still conscious but he lies under the crumpled form of one of his comrades while his weapon's bounced out of hand and from his reach.

Then the towering form of Sandman whirls upwards. He gets a hold of the top of the tent, outlines of his fingers becoming visible as he takes grasp. Only in that instant a red and blue blur flickers through the air past him, a familiar voice lifting, "Heya Sandy, lookin' good!"

Dajan is finding the tent rather durable, top of the line that it is and braced for maintaining the heat within, she's starting to get some success as the henchmen leader lifts his voice.

"Hold it! Hold fire!" And the men that were firing upon Firestar bring their weapons up. "You do-gooder bastards just hold up! We knew what we were getting into, and in case something like this happened we planted a series of explosive devices. You let me and my crew and our targets go. Or everyone, _everyone_ bites it if I don't give the all-clear in fifty-seven seconds."

Normally that'd be a shocking admission, a serious charge, and something that'd force the issue between heroes and villains. Of course that's the time when dropping through that hole in the tent and landing on the center table right on top of the huge ice scuplture of a swan… is Spider-Man,

"Hey guys, did you know you've got a hole in your tent? Oh and hey, I found these." Then without so much as a by your leave, a clatter of metal is heard as several electronic devices are dropped down on the table, five in fact. The heroes might not recognize them, but the villains certainly do.

With Spider-Man now joining the heroes side, Firestar feels safe that these villains are not going to get anywhere, and as they're already desparate and seem willing to consider a retreat, she figures she's done her share for now and can answer the call she's got from Warriors Central to deal with yet another criminal act in a different part of the city. So much for enjoying a good wedding. "Watch yourselves guys," she calls to the villain, "I hear the mathematical odds of you guys beating Spider-Man are rather miniscule," and just like that, she flies out of the hole she already created before at the roof of the tent, leaving a fiery streak in the air as she flies away.

Dajan wasn't expecting the canvas to be as well-held together as it is. But the point becomes moot as a gaping hole is ripped in the top by a towering Sandman. Dajan has to fight the insistent urge to bail and hide at the sight of him looming above. But she stops what she's doing altogether as the head bad guy announces the bomb that she almost forgot about in the adrenaline rush of the moment and her eagerness to help.

But Along Comes A Spider, again making a timely entrance in accord with the lines of that jingle often sung about him. Under her makeshift mask, she grins, as he drops down and tosses out the metal gizmos. She has no idea what they are, but the bad guys' reaction seems to be a fairly good indicator that their threat just lost all its mojo. Dajan fights the urge to give a triumphant whoop, remembering only at the last second she still owes him an apology. She therefore goes back to scanning for any stragglers who might be getting ideas or trying to sneak out in the chaos.

Coming around for another pass, or perhaps a swoop at the staff entrance of the tent, Dane witnesses a sudden convergence on the main tent. That ends up with Sandman tearing a hole in it and a red and blue figure dropping in to drop some devices down. For his part, he hovers near the larger form of Sandman as he comes to survey again. "They invitation lied," he commences towards bill, "I see no nymphs here. We'll have to talk with Ares about this Olympian bachelor parties." Though, he continues to survey, much the same as Dajan is doing, for straggles and escapists. As the man riding the ice swan seems to have things under control inside the main tent (along with other friends down there, amazing or otherwise).

With the arrival of Spider-Man, Sandman tosses the part of the tent that he had lifted to the side. Grimacing in his sand form, Baker has always had a love-hate-hate-destroy-tolerate type relationship with the webhead and considering part of what the Sinister Six is technically Spider-Man's fault…in Baker's eyes anyway. "Webhead" is muttered he watches from the distance in his large pssamic form peering into the gathering below. With Black Knight flying near his head, "So is he goina to get all the credit now?"

With now the flying Black Knight, the looming Sandman, the blazing Firestar (pre-departure), the sekritive Ninja-Claw-Girl, and the Amazing Spider-man all present and all their plans in tatters… it causes a wave of reflection to come upon the gunmen.

Their weapons are lowered, and without another word they start taking up position on the floor, hands on their heads, not even having to be told. One or two outside the tent, however, try to make a break for it.

Spidey, for his part, keeps his place there on the ice sculpture. "What'd I miss?" He asks of the crowd, but probably of Black Knight as those mirrored lenses are lifted upwards in the man's general direction.

Dajan takes that as a cue. She begins winding through the thugs with a furtive stride, kicking weapons away toward the edges of the tent, and shredding tablecloths from upended tables to use as makeshift binding to tie hands behind backs. She doesn't speak a word through any of this. Her voice, although still recovering from laryngitis, and her accent are probably distinctive enough for the two super-types who have met her to recognize her.

She gives an apologetic look and a gentle clap of one clawed hand to the shoulder of a man who is wincing at all the damage. Must be the caterer.
Bringing the atomic steed down a little, Black Knight says to Sandman first, "Probably, its his city, they love him. Don't worry, you'll get a lunchbox yet." A grin, maybe a running joke with Avengers even, even though he doesn't have the same status in the states as say the Captain or Iron Man. Then he calls down to the webbed crusader, "You missed the cutting of the cake and the bride/father dance, but seems you showed up just in time for the dollar dance. Hope you brought some ones," then he realizes that probably may of sounded wrong and keeps a stoic face as his cheeks pink just a little. "Glad to distract while you took care of the real danger," he says, noting the devices and the goons getting down, smile returning.

"Ah…whatever, this party blows…" Sandman begins to mumble something about nymphs as he decreases and reverts to his normal size and fleshy self. Finally walking into the tent like a normal person, he moves over to the fallen criminals and looks to the clawed girl, "I'll take it from here, but thanks…and sorry." He hopes she understands the apology as he realizes who she is.

As order begins to reassert itself, the wedding's guests all get up and then Dajan has some help securing them even as there's the distant sound of wailing sirens coming from afar. The authorities beginning to come on the scene only a handful of minutes after the alarm sounded.

A tall distinguished man looks up towards Black Knight, then Spider-Man and Sandman, not sure entirely what to make of Dajan. He clears his throat as he looks around, "I'd like to… like to extend my thanks, and my congratulations to all of you. This could have been a… a terrible thing." He looks like he might be a politician, not a prominent one if that's the case. He was with the wedding party at the least, so hey. "If there's anything we can do for any of you? Please, let me show our appreciation on the behalf of myself and my guests."

Outside the police are beginning to secure the unconscious and fallen men, rounding up the ones that started to make a break for it and making sure things are getting locked down.

Dajan swallows hard as Sandman approaches her to take over. She doesn't acknowledge his addressing her, though; hopefully he'll just presume she was someone other than who he thought she was.

She crinkles her eyes in what she hopes is a friendly manner at the bigwig speaking, but there's no smooth, elegant way to accept a reward, or even some of those delicious looking crab puff pastries, so she simply tips two fingers in a salute, and turns to walk away. So much for museum, park day trip, and lunch. And so much for the grody, blood caked gloves she starts to peel off along the way. Ew.

Shaking his head to the man who speaks for the wedding party. "There is nothing we would ask, I apologize that this has transpired at your wedding party." His eyes noting the holes in the tent, the bloodshed, etc. "If there is anything we could do, you have but to ask as well good sir." He is about to leave it at that, but he does dismout to join with Bill Baker. "We don't have to do this part, its not our jurisdication at this point," regarding personally handling all the goons once the police and security move in. Then he does a second take towards the wedding party representative, "You know, there is something, perhaps there are a couple of invitations for some friends." Heck, who wouldn't want Avengers in attendance, but he doesn't imply himself for the moment.
Watching the girl get up and go he shrugs and as Dane joins him and tells him he does not have to restrain the criminals, he stops as the police arrive. His brow furrows a moment at the mention of the invitations. Bill himself would have said something about nymphs, but remains quiet and lets Dane do the talking as he approaches the web-slinger, "Thanks fer helpin' out when I was dealin' with the Sinister Six and all that."

The elder fellow in the tuxedo looks at Dane curiously, blustering a bit as he hems and haws, "Invitations? What? Well, yes. Why of course… one moment." He pats down his pockets, undoes a button of his jacket and reaches a gloved hand into his coat. He hms and produces a pair of invitations. "Here, take these, they are my own but I doubt they'd… ha ha, they'd kick me out of the wedding since I am paying them after all. Ha ha!" He says this good naturedly, perhaps still coming down off of all the adrenalin.

As for Spider-Man he keeps his perch there, balancing on the balls of his feet with his hands splayed atop the swan's brow. He cocks his head to the side, "No offense, Sandman. But like, I know the Avengers are all into you for one thing or another. But I'm not like, hugely convinced about everything. So hey, don't mess up. Again." That having been said he hops off the perch, lands light and then steps up to the father of the bride, "Say, you all haven't done that walk down the aisle thing yet then?"

To which the older man responds, "Why, um, no, no we have not. Why?"

Spider-Man then answers, "Oh hey. Then yeah I got something to ask."

Dajan, ever the quick thinker, does briefly leave the tent, but she sidles back around, discarding her red scarf and gloves (because - really, red?) , and picking up a new pair of gloves and a hooded scarf she could never afford to hide her extremely identifiable hair, all of which were dropped or forgotten by the few guests and crowd who were able to flee before the battle got joined in earnest. Finders Keepers and all that. She unbuttons her coat, and cleans her hands off in the snow — brrr! — before returning in time to hear Spider-Man mention he has something to ask. But now she's way at the back of the crowd, just listening, because, well, her favorite super hero is hanging around charming the crowd. Plus, she should stick around and make sure her new acquaintance knows she didn't get tazered to death.

There is no shame in using fame, even though Black Knight isn't the most famous of Avengers. He quietly takes the tickets, "My thanks sir, and if you would like the tent replaced, I shall do what I can for you." Though as the man seems to want not for money, Dane won't be surprised should he decline. Whichever the case, he leaves Sandman to Spidey (who has moved on to bride, or her father at least), he gives a few stay in school, lay off drugs if anyone seems inclined to notice he is an Avenger before waving off himself. "See you back at the Mansion," he calls to Sandman, giving a salute off the visor of his makeshift Black Knight helmet. That said, he goes in search of Dajan. Her having seen him run forward with the photon sword pre-helmet, he doesn't see any reason at this point to take off the helmet and play Clark Kent having missed the action. He will fly the horse down near her, seeing if she does recognize him before landing.

Sandman is not about to trade barbs with Spider-Man. He would lose. He also is not going to smack the web-slinger upside the head. "Thanks for the tip, Spidey." He mumbles something under his breath about slipping and falling when swinging as he goes back to Dane and as he leaves. He looks around and has opted to grab some quick food for himself.

Dajan is pleased, if not a teense startled, to see the helmeted Dane drop down beside her on his steel horse. She lifts her face enough so he can see it's her under her expensive new hood, and pitches her voice to a stage whisper so he can hear her without interrupting whatever Spidey and the father of the bride have going on. "Wow. I think we kinda beat the museum for an exitin' afternoon. Glad you're okay."

After grabbing some food, Sandman watches Spidey with the father of the bride. He thinks a moment how he is glad that Flint Marko is dead. For surely, this place would turn into a fight between the old foes. He lets out a sigh and heads back to the Mansion opposite of the way Dane and Dajan are.

Smiling the same once he's found her, and she's revealed herself, Dane nod. "I think you are right, and we have more to do now than just walk around if you're interested," he says, displaying the tickets. Perhaps not quite putting together she was the clawed ninja just yet himself. "That is, hoping you don't have any plans yet. We could put on some nice clothes, get in a dance at the reception?"

Dajan blinks. She saw him ask, but had not put two and two together like that. "Oh. Um. Wow." She visibly blushes under her freckles. "I'd love to, only exceptin' not so much with the nice clothes part. She glances down and away. "I pretty much hit town with one bag… haven't had much occasion to dress up formal." Let alone money to buy formal wear. "But…nice of you to think of me." She glances forlornly at the invites. That would've been fun.

And as the authorities take control of matters, there's a moment when the police chief asks the councilman if the wedding is to continue. The older man refers to his daughter, is rewarded with a petulant angry look and so he announces, "The party must go on!" To which there's a lot of applause from the guests, and even some of the police officers. The vibe is strong and positive, and despite all that's gone on the people have chosen to endure, a very New York thing to do after all.

So the remaining staff hustle to try and get things together, the hole in the tent is repaired as best as possible, and the main tent for the ceremony was luckily untouched by the escapades. It takes a good half hour for the guests to get seated, the priest has taken up place at the end of the tent with the podium before him. On either side of him are the men and women of the wedding party. Then, of course, there's the sound to signal the beginning of the festivities. 'Dum-dum-da-dum.'

"In fear of sounding arrogant," says Dane, knowing how what is coming may come out. "If you would like something formal, the wedding is just starting, we have time to shop." A smile still on his face, "Just, we would need to make a quick decision on gown and such to make the dance." Then the dum-dum-da-dum starts up, and he says, "We still don't know who it is do we, maybe a peek, the nuptials and we can see later about that dance." Maybe he really wants that dance as the festivities get under way.

Despite the lack of formal wear, Dajan's got an invitation to be here now. She is about to regretfully turn down the offer Dane makes to outfit her appropriately for the event. Then That Song, the one that is the all-but-universal indication for "siddown and shaddap, here comes the bride" starts. Dajan reaches up, pats his elbow, but ultimately gives Dane a quick little shake of her head, and cranes her neck to see the bride walk down the aisle. How romantic that the whole thing is going forward even after this near disaster.

Then the organ stops and from somewhere an mp3 picks up, a baseline starting to thump out of the nearby speakers as an electronic 'doo-da-doo' sounds out. The beginning '1-2-3-4' of Chris Brown's Forever starts to sound aloud across the tent as part of the crowd seems distinctly uncomfortable. A good chunk of the guests, the older sorts don't seem to recognize it as the music thumps to life and Chris Brown's voice sounds out, 'It's you, and me. Moving at the speed of light into eternity.'

But there are some guests, some of the younger kids, the teenagers, some of the thirty-somethings who've seen Youtube who start to laugh as in that moment at the end of the aisle emerges Spider-Man.

And as the music sounds he starts to dance down the aisle, side-cross-stepping, grasping his hands together and nerdily executing a twisting dance step that leads into him executing a smooth one-handed cartwheel that has him land on one of the supports from the pews, only to flip off of it and then strut down the last of the distance…

And of course, that's when other people start to get up and dance their own way down the aisle in their own inimitable fashion.

Caught in that moment, Dane stands near Dajan, watching from his perspective. But he's still in Avenger mode with black helmet on. Then there is the change of venue when the music changes and Spider-man starts the dance line. Dane is unsure if this is part of the planned festivities or not, maybe what he spoke to the father of the bride about. So he doesn't know if guests are dancing down the aisle at random. Hopefully its wedding party. He stays at Dajan's side during this the same, observing the ongoing festivities, smiling at the antics but not joining in of his own will.

Dajan bursts into delighted, unabashed laughter at the sight of Spider-Man dancing down the aisle leading a wedding procession. She has to dig for a second with numb fingers in the pockets of her coat and her jeans before she can produce her little low-end Android phone. A video is taken of as much of it as she can catch of the dancing webspinner, because /nobody/ is going to believe her otherwise.

"I know what you're doin'," she murmurs thoughtfully, mostly to herself. "Clownin', so as to get everybody's mind off all the drama. So smart." She nods, nodding her head along with the beat, beside Dane. "Well," she addresses to Dane, "This was definitely worth stickin' 'round for."

At the end of the aisle Spidey stops long enough once the bridge and groom dance up behind him, both laughing. He turns and extends a hand towards the groom, giving the man a firm shake, then he turns to the bride and extends his arms. There's a hug that's given and as quick as that, Spider-Man turns to salute towards the crowd after he's disentangled himself. The bride says something, so does the groom. It's hard to tell if Spidey says something back.

The red and blue vigilante then, without further ado, fires a webline that catches the bracing wooden arch of the doorway and web-zips his way out of there, flickering with that tell-tale blur of motion as he /swings/ on out and leaves the festivities to the party-goers.

The dancing continues, even as the song goes through its chorus, ending once the song ends and still there's the jubilant laughter coming from many of the older folks as well.

As quick as that it's all over, and then the priest clears his throat. "Ahem, well. If we shall begin?" And the ceremony starts.

Catching on with the older folks, outdating himself slightly, Dane has a chuckle at best. Finally as the ceremony is beginning, he side comments to Dajan with admittance, "I have to give it to him, I couldn't do that." Goons, swords, being showey in that respect, certainly, not clowning. More quietly without the music, "It definitely was worth sticking around for, all of it." Though the Chris Brown entrance was amusing, he may mean just the company of Dajan, who knows. He stays mostly quiet to let the wedding proceed.

"He's a natural born showman, yeah," Dajan agrees, standing beside Dane. As the wedding proceeds, Dajan's eyes get all misty and shiny. She has to fish for a kleenex before it's all over. "Sorry. Can't help it. I love happy beginnings," she tells Dane.

Shaking his head, Dane indicates silently that there is no need for sorries. He is more stoic, perhaps holding in his tear through a stiff jaw. He doesn't say either way his thoughts on happy endings. When its over and guests filter to proper reception and they get a chance to talk more. "So, the reception is a no, but hopefully my invitation to dance remains open?" Suggesting he'd probably like to see her again as the day is dwindling on and he should probably return to the Mansion himself.

The moment that Spider-Man swung off, Dajan took her hood off and shook her hair back out. POOF! She gives Dane a momentary look, then smiles faintly. "Sure. We'll have to do that museum thing again sometime," she suggests. "Some afternoon when you're not beatin' up on crazy hostage takers." She fidgets in her pockets for a paper and pen, and scrawls her number on it, just as her cellphone plays the opening riff to 'Workin' in a Coalmine'. Dajan grimaces and glances at it. So much for that day off, it would appear. "Don't be a stranger. Turns out one of my coworkers called in sick. I gotta run." She hands over the little slip of paper — the back of a receipt for those boots she's wearing, it turns out — and waves over her shoulder at him. Her quick stride turns into a run the second she clears the doorway.

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