Pastry Bomber

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Brief Title:
Pastry Bomber

Armand, Night Thrasher, Nightcrawler, NPC Imp Thugs

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
2013/06/25 09:30

Midtown - NYC

Nightcrawler is saved by Armand and Night Thrasher

Social or Plot:


Midtown, midmorning ... the least busiest part of that time of day. Morning crush has ended, most of the day-to-day suits are in their offices doing the real work. Those executives that take their time are meandering, a few tourists are wandering, but there is plenty of walking room on the sidewalks, plenty of room for traffic to turn without running into mobs of walkers as well. The sort of time when local cafes, bakeries, and the like have a slow break after serving coffee and treats all morning and before the early lunch crowds arrive.
The last place on might expect to see a blue ceiling elf wearing his super suit and meandering, as if casually, along one of the buildings about a story up. He runs sideways along the wall, leaps and tumbles off a low flag pole, leaping to another building. Proceeding to do the same, running, he looks sort of over his shoulder and up in the sky. One might notice, if they saw him and followed that gaze, a winged beastie up there. Someone with enhanced vision would notice it sort of looks like the elf himself ... imp'ish with a spaded tail, three toed appendanges, the works. Just this one has wings where Nightcrawler does not.
From the winged imp above echoes down a call, "You can't run forever, father grows impatient." It echoes down to the street, but may be lost in some of the news, except to those paying attention or with more acute senses perhaps.

"Ahh, oui Mademoiselle...they cake was delivered as you desired, I am sure the hearts and raspberry filling have made the day of your loved one. Hm? Ahh...yes, yes she was very beautiful. Well, she was surprised, asked who you were actually...non, oh non....I understand love makes you do the crazy tings. Alright, thank you for your business. Mmhmm...mmhmm, oh oui...I-Okay, I am hanging up now Mademoiselle, bonne journée." The young man hangs up the green and silver bedazzled phone and exhales softly as he walks along wearing a white pastry chef's coat left unbuttoned over a dark green t-shirt and a pair of black jeans, dark green converse sneakers on his feet. He wears a leather messenger bag and of course a white canvas tote bag stuffed with boxes and paper bags of baked goods. He slips a clipboard from his messenger bag, signing off on his latest delivery and looking up towards the sky with an exasperated sigh and then he blinks for a moment...squinting. He could've sworn he saw something, okay no...he does follow Nightcrawler with his eyes for a moment before looking back up to the sky.

One of those executives that arrived at their place of business earlier in the morning? Dwayne Taylor. Dwayne was standing in the suite that houses the Taylor Foundation's Executive Office and he was standing by the big, expansive windows leading to a small balcony. His hands were clasped behind him as he stared out at the city beyond his office in Midtown. That is... he was doing this before noticing the flying imp and the other chasing him.
Night Thrasher doesn't adventure as often as he did before the superhero Civil War, but Dwayne still dons the armor every once in a while. Thankfully, the Foundation is a bit quiet this morning. Minutes after spotting the chase, Night Thrasher made an appearance on the rooftop of the Amrbose Building. Binocular Vision in Thrasher's helmet allows him a better view of what's unfolding.

Calling out, Nightcrawler respondes, "I cancelled my subscription to that family, pass my regards to Vater." His voice isn't nearly as loud as his pursuers. Though the winged imp seems to hear just fine, and chortles, "That is not an option brother." So says he, before turning like a diving whale and spiraling down towards street level, and the blue imp. This flying imp is of a tannish brown in color, light, with no body hair but freckles that gleam just a little, like a bronze perhaps. Kurt has no choice, but to teleport to another building, back a little. "Your magic prevents me from from teleporting to you brother, but not from using your portals." It dives into the purple, brimestone smoke left by Nightcrawler, and appears closer to the blue elf. As this seems to draw more street level attention, the wing imp chasing the blue imp, Kurt calls to those looking up, "Where's a super hero when you need one ... seriously ..." He is trying to maneuver via acrobatics to distance himself from the flyer again, without teleporting now.

Dwayne's eyes narrow behind his helmet's visor as his heads up display drowns him in data as his on board systems link up with his personal network. Nightcrawler is identified easy enough, but the other is taking his systems longer to track down files for. The helmet's audio receivers are adjusted with a thought, Dwayne attempts to focus on what is being said by the two of them while filtering out the other sounds in this general area of the Big Apple.
After the teleporting, it takes Dwayne a second or two to relocate the two of them. They're closer to ground level and rather remain perched, Night Thrasher decides to move in closer. Thrasher leaps off the side of the building and descends. With practiced timing, a grappling claw and high-tensile strength line are released from the gauntlet of the armor to clasp onto something and alter his descend. You know; So Dwayne doesn't end up a stain on the sidewalk.

"...oh mon dieu...its demon monkeys...why can't it ever be butterflies..." Armand adjusts the straps of his bag, hair for now it still pulled out of his face in a bug and secured with a pin as he jogs towards the buildings, looking at the people around. "Ahh, nothing to see...come, come...this way..." He points to people who are looking up. "Ah, pardon, could you tell me how to get to not around here?" He asks people questions, speaking in French and English, doing his best to cause a distraction before squinting back up towards the buildings. "Oi! Beelzebub! I am knowing they don't have bakeries in hell so here...have a taste!" And yes, he's reaching into his treat bag to snatch out scones and he hurls them towards the tannish imp, they may fall short but one hits the side of the building and explodes in a cloud of crumbly powder and the other one is baked like a rock.

Meanwhile, the chase seems to continue. The flier trying to get nearer to Nightcrawler while the elf uses the buildings and street level facades to make it heard for the agile imp that is limited to real obstructions like that. The pastries slung up seem to be something Kurt might of hoped for. Even with the rock missing or bouncing off, the powder one causes a moment of a distraction. "Vater will just make do, ja," he says, leaping forward and porting out in front of the flyer to kick at his face. He springs back into his purple smoke and ports again, then multi-ports a last time, through the same cloud making his port trail hard to follow. "You cannot hide for ever brother," says the imp, trying to follow and being off the trail now.
The lead helps Kurt, who has chosen to appear close to the pastry bomber. Near Armand, he comes out of the shadows, "Gut, gut, mein fruend, now, throw the bomb pastry that sends him to his other dimension ..." Nightcrawler assumes he's some super hero pastry bomber, with special pastries it would seem. The flying imp is turning and now spotting Kurt and the pastry chef, reading to dive at them.

[OOC] Armand chokes on water

"Sacre Bleu!" Armand jumps a bit as Kurt comes out of the shadows and he just blinks. He has an accent and then there's another accent but he does translate things for himself, lashes flutter and then he stares as the imp looks their way. "/Bomb/ pastry? Ah...Ah..." The Baker has to rummage around in that sack before he pulls out cake box, lifting the precious chocolate, banana, cream pie/cake creation from the container and he holds it at the ready. "...This is the cake that Old Mother Luvlorn orders and she says it sends her to another dimension, or maybe she said dementia, I am not sure!" And if the imp dives towards them? He is so throwing the cake with all its creamy frosting and banana filling right at his face area with a tiny scream."

Dwayne's swing-line draws tight as he reaches it limit, he swings along at a different arc so that the line and the claw attached to the building absorbs the energy from his fall. At the end of his swing, Thrasher's gauntlet makes the grapple claw release its grip. It is drawn back into his gauntlet and Thrasher falls the rest of the way to the ground below. He lands in a kneeling position with a loud clank of metal on concrete and the sounds of hydraulics in his joints absorbing the force of the impact. When he stands he looks around and up, "People complain about Mondays... but Tuesdays get weird..." He mutters to himself as he attempts to orient himself to the situation now that he's on the ground.

"Ja, klasse ... awesome," says Kurt as the cake comes out. The diver is going right for Nightcrawler, so the cake seems a perfect distraction when its not expected. It literally is a cream pie to the face, ala any old slapstick comedy. Even more, its a good distraction. While it doesn't send the flying imp back to whatever dimension it comes from, it looses some control and is unable to teleport itself. Kurt sees to that problem, running on all fours forward for momentum and tumbling into the air, he bamfs! Catches the flying imp, bamfs again to sent it into a wall not far from Thrasher. It hits heard, no concrete is cracked, its body isn't quite that hard, but it withstands the blow enough to wipe its face and try to look around. It too is a wall clinger it would seem.
Kurt appears nearby Armand again, "Another trick, throw something else, before it kills us ..." It blinks until it sees Kurt and Armand, deciding it should be more careful, taking a moment ponder before it spreads its wings ready to fly again. It is still about 1 story up, standing with claws on the building.

There is a long stream of French explicatives as Armand processes what's going on, glancing towards Dwayne when he lands and looking a tad relieved before Kurt appears beside him again and he jumps, clutching his chest and just rummaging around to select another baked good. "Oh mon dieu...the croissants...they are stale." He tosses a couple of croissants like...boomarangs and then just tugs a pin out of his bun, letting his hair fall into its singular braid unbraids its self as his hair fades into a jet black shade. "Killing us is an option?!"

Night Thrasher slides his feet underneath him to get into a ready position when he twists his head to the side to look at the point of contact the Imp made with the wall nearby. He reaches behind his back to his backpack assembly and unclasps his escrima. Both sticks are held in one hand while his free hands reaches into a satchel on his belt. He produces a fist-full of pellets from said satchel and clutches them in his fist. The fist-full of pellets are hurled in the direction of the winged imp. Upon impact these pellets prove to be explosive; Each of the half dozen or so marble-sized pellets exploding like mini-flashbangs. Thrasher calls out hoping Nightcrawler hears him, "What's this all about?!"

"Family reunion, I'm rescinding the invite," says Kurt, not that it explains a lot. But he reaches over to tap Armand on the shoulder, "But mein fruend is right, he will kill us, or those that get in his way. I suppose I'm safe, as our father wants me back home." The flying imp, squats to launch off the building and, just as this happens, the explosive flashbangs both startling and confusing along with the boomerang croissants further hitting him, if not causing full bodily harm, such that flying moves to cover itself and falls to the ground. As it staggers to stand, Kurt explains, "Demon guy, mostly really a demon minus religious implications. Wants to bring Azazel into this dimension, biblical Azazel, just not really a demon ..." That's about all he can explain, the thing stands and decides to head for Thrasher, tumbling much like Kurt, then leaping to fly at thrasher in a double hand superman-punchlike maneuver.

"..." Armand crosses himself as the man explains. "Oh! Yes, Really. The /biblical/ Azazel...that is so much more reassuring! Merci!" He just sighs, looking to Kurt before he rummages around as his hair grows out a bit longer. "Okay, now we have a distraction...will be running or staying now....if you run and we cause a big enough distraction, will you be able to delay your reunion?"

Thrasher shifted an escrima into his free hand; thus holding one in each gauntlet. He remained at a fighting stance merely to observe the effects of the explosives and... baked goods on the Imp. When the Imp gets up and heads his way, he grimaces beneath his helmet, "Weird Tuesdays."
The flying/lunging punch suffers the same problem as a flying/dropkick, not difficult to avoid when you're watching it unfold before you. Thrasher shfits his weight underneath him, tenses his legs and attempts to roll around the flying imp's strike against him. The Imp may land the fists on him as he twists, but Thrasher is hoping to offset any force behind the punch by rolling with it. At the conclusion of the twisting move, Thrasher will use his own momentum to fling one of the escrima towards the backside of the Imp.

"Ja, if you can stop him from getting near my teleport, about a 10 second gap, I can clear out and he'll loose my trail, returning to report that he lost me when he comes around." Assuming it gets knocked out of course. Though Kurt trusts the guy with the now black hair that is seemingly growing or at least unfurling/unbraiding itself. With a nod, Nightcrawler runs on all fours away from the group to get a lead, then ports a few times, to get some distance.
Near Night Thrasher, the imp follows through as suspected, one fist hitting as Thrasher twists, and the escrima coming down at the back of the imp as it moves past. One clawed hand opens, trying to rake at Thrasher as it passes before it twists to tumble on its landing. The hit by the escrima knockes it off a little, it tumbles into a nearby car on the street. Where concrete was too much, its body leaves an indentation in the door where it hits. It looks staggered a little, but it wouldn't be quite enough for a TKO ruling. Though it starts moving towards the portal Kurt created, trying to get past Thrasher and Armand now, its movements slower than before, the escrima hit and tumble having bewildered it slightly it would seem.

Armand nods as he listens to Kurt, counting softly to himself and then nodding firmly. "Very well, good luck and a pleasure to meet you.." He concentrates on the Imp know, pulling out the bag of powdered sugar he has, exhaling softly and waiting as the creature heads his way, hair fading into a rainbow (ROYGBIV) pattern as it grows even longer and he looks at a nearby may be a sign or a fire hydrant, he doesn't care. He just lashes out with the hair, tendrils snapping to wrap around the post creating a net like trip-wire in the imp's path before he shakes powdered sugar in the air like..a sweet cloud of choking...mess. He's coughing too.

Thrasher takes a step further back than he anticipated he would due to the raking claws of the Imp. The claws do not breach the Vigilante's armor, but it does leave damage he'll have to patch later. After listening to more explanation from Nightcrawler, Thrasher provides him a stiff nod in response. He follows that up, "Just long enough to let you roll off? Fine." As Armand lashes out to create an impressive snare for the Imp, Thrasher does his own little bit to help. That little bit would be running after the Imp and leaping forward to attempt a diving, football-esque, tackle to drag the Imp to the ground or into the powder sugared hair- net.

Within five seconds tops, the thing gains momentum, but then it is confused. There is a hair-woven net, powder filling the air, and then a tackle from an armored do-gooder. Before it can react to the net and even try to avoid it, it is instead skidding along the grown with possibly a rider to direct it, right for the hair net. Whether Thrasher gets off or not, flying imp will collide with the entangling hair. Though, he will also notice, being the one most likely capable of sight in the powder suger cloud, that the shape of the imp changes or shifts a little. Logic might dectate whatever Nightcrawler had that stopped it from teleporting has worn off or is out of range. It might be trying to get home, as the ceiling elf indicated. Either Kurt has reached that mark he asked for with 10 minutes, or the flying imp is now trying to flee.

Okay...he felt that. Armand almost flinches, but instead he grits his teeth when things collide with the net he's improvised and he's choking on sugar himself, spitting out a bit himself before snorting and sneezing but he squints at the imp before looking over to Thrasher. "I will let go in 3...2...1.." He then quickly retracts the strands of hair, snapping them back. "Everything is better with powdered sugar, oui!?"

Thrasher follows the countdown, staying on long enough not to get entangled then rolling free. At about the mark Kurt gave, the flying imp bamfs as well, disappearing in a tannish-bronze cloud of smoke. The smoke smells of brimestone as well, it mingles into the suger cloud and the two disapeate (sp) together. Moving slightly away from where the hair was and the suger, Thrasher scans to see if the creature is around but doesn't find any trace.
If the group waits long enough, Kurt is bamfing back within 20 seconds of his mark. If it looks safe, which it does with the other flying imp gone, he comes down to the street. "Did I miss anything?" He looks around curiously as if to see if it really is safe or if he needs to focus on luring the thing away from the city and keep on running.

Armand bends over for a moment, resting his hands on his thoughts as he coughs and waves a hand in front of his face as the smells mix together and his hair fades back to dark brown, retracting to his lower back in length and taking a deep breath, coughing and then when he jumps when Kurt re-arrives and he presses a hand to his chest before leaning back against a pole. ", just the scary demon that's not a demon bamfed back to hell. It is nothing." He closes his eyes. "Are you okay Monsieur?"

Smiling a canine filled smile, Kurt might enjoy the after affect of the sugar, not having taking a full blast from that cloud. "Ja, well as can be told. I think he's gone again, for now. Danke mein fruend. Sorry to bring him here ..." As if he had a choice, but maybe, he sort of did. Looking around, there's only a few traces of the incident; dented car, maybe the sign bending some that sevred as the other side of the net, some pastries strewn about and the sugar. "No one was hurt," Kurt asks aloud, but its more directed at Armand.

Armand exhales shakily and shakes his head as he opens his eyes and then blinks...and blinks again. "It is okay. My brothers are all bastards as well." He then frowns as he looks to the damage of the car and fallen pastries and he shrugs a shoulder. "It is a mercy, oui...nobody was hurt. And...I didn't have a heart attack so I am thinking that this is ah, good?"

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