Operation Got Your Back

April 10, 2016:

A Got Your Back Program mission hits some rocks.

New York City

An abandoned warehouse in Hell's Kitchen


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Since before she even joined the Justice League, Kate has been working on a program for solo capes, the people who want to make a difference but aren't sure how to yet. It's called the Got Your Back Program, and it's basically a hotline that allows those new would-be heroes to call for help if they get in over their head. X-Red, the Titans, and the Justice League all get alerts from it. Tonight, Kate got a call forwarded from the line.

Robby Johnson, a teenager from Hell's Kitchen, has an IQ well above the norm. He used it to fashion himself a pair of gloves that can create a sort of lightning, and he's been trying to clear out some of the local drug dealers around where he lives with his grandmother. The call to the line was only about ten seconds long, when he realized the drug dealers outnumbered him and he was in over his head. Unfortunately, he came to that realization too late.

Now, Robby's zip-tied to a chair in a warehouse, much worse for the wear, as a group of dealers tries to convince him he's better off using his talents for them. They're not very nice with how they reason.

Kate wasn't too far away when the call went out, and she put out a call of her own for anyone who could make it into the city. Now, she's crouched on a rooftop across the street from the warehouse where Robby's being held, checking her quiver and taking stock of the area.

"…I'm sure you'll want to take the lead on this…" Robin says from the shadows; the white lenses of his diamond shaped, emerald mask revealing his presence soon after he arrives. "We should work quickly," he adds with his thick Middle Eastern accent. From there, he steps out of the shadows in his new uniform: Far different than Jason Todd's from a bygone era. More militaristic, with more armor, and with a color set more easily able to keep hidden within. And, of course, rather than a yellow cape, he's got his classic, tattered, drag green hood and shawl.

Nathaniel was somewhat surprised to receive Kate's signal. He had not used that channel in years. Still, he was in the New York area, so he comes flying, scanning the area for the brunette archer. "Hawkeye," he greets, his voice slightly distorted electronically. "Good to see you, lady. How could I help you?"

"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, diddly dee," Deadpool sings, working a few buildings over on an oblique angle from the other heroes. Most heroes would pick a rooftop or an abandoned apartment— Deadpool's using someone's kitchen. Needless to say, the family inside was more than willing to temporarily vacate the premises. He's working on… something. Parts being assembled into place. Out of camera, of course, becuase we don't wanna bury the lead.

"Right? ~Here they are, standing in a roooow," he says, warbling badly off-key. "Big ones, small ones, some as big as their heads…"

Deadpool hefts the assembled rocket launcher and moves to the window, bracing a foot against the windowsill and aiming at the side of the building on the same floor where the villains are holding their hostage hostage.

"Come say 'erro to my lil frien'!"

The meeting with the pair of Asgardians has left Kevin in a huge lurch. The politics of the gods is only something he barely has an inkling about. Four years in Asgard and it wasn't exactly the top priority of his stay there. Which is probably why he got the issue, and a really odd looking book thrust on him. Trying to translate it will be a whole other issue. So Kevin has walked, trying to get his thoughts straight.

The issue is, Kevin doesn't know what's going on. Or that there's an issue going on, the whole 'heroing' thing is all the more new to him. Nevermind he operates on his own. So when his cane tingles in his hand, the mace knows something is up. He stops, perhaps partially unaware of where he is(huh, he walked a long way). Looking up, the outline of a figure flying is noticed. What's up with that? Considering his own recent turn of events, and without anything else to do, he ducks into an alley, striking the end of his cane. A flash of lightning and where Kevin ends, Thunderstrike begins. Spinning his mace, he shoots out between the buildings, landing on roof. Who are all these people? No idea. Please don't think he's Thor. Really, he's not Thor.

"Hey, N- Iro- Okay, you've got to let us know what you're going by before this gets awkward," Kate turns a rueful smile on Nathaniel as he lands, gesturing him down into cover as she looks back to Robin. "There's a kid down there. Seventeen. His name's Robby, and he's a tech genius who worked out how to make some gloves that throw lightning bolts. He's been trying to shut down some dealers here, and that's as much as he was able to get out before they surrounded him and brought him in."

She pulls down her shades, giving herself one last check. "We need to get him out, but we need to assume the dealers have control of his gloves. And we need to make sure they don't get away with them. I'll take the front entrance, give them a chance to give up. Robin, you-"

And then there's Thunderstrike landing next to them, and she squints behind her shades. "That's a…bold costuming choice. Friend of Robby's?"

"I go as Iron Guard now," notes the armored not-Iron-Man young man. "Although you can call me Nathaniel, I don't have much of a secret identity." As for the rest. "Lightning generating devices let me see…" and as Thunderstrike appears his armor sensors mostly detect him, of course. "That… does not look exactly like Thor, but the power readings are very much alike."

Robin nods to those assembled; he knows precisely none of them aside from the one with the long golden locks. "Thor." A solemn nod of respect is given, even as he punches his own glove. He nods to Iron Guard as he introduces himself. "Wait, that's not Thor?"

Interrupting all the reparatee, there's a *wssh THUMPF* as a rocket launcher goes flying across the street. 'Party Starter' has been written on the side of the launcher head in bold strokes of crayon.

The backblast blows out every window in the room Deadpool is rocket-sniping from, along with all the doors, shaking the fireescape, blasting out blinds and shutters, and setting off a half a dozen car alarms five floors below.

Whee! Make it go boom! "WHAT?!" Deadpool shouts into the dust-filled shuddering aftermath, holding a hand against his hear. "Ma-mahp! Maahp! Maahp! Damn you, tinnitus!"

Okay so, he's got longer blonde hair and the tell-tale Asgardian knee-high boots, but he doesn't choose who the mace wants him to dress. The black shirt with white detail, the black pants. Unless Thor has taken up a new wardrobe, it's not him. And really the mirrored goggles and the red bandana that occupy his face should help with that. "Huh?" he utters, confused. "I…don't..didn't really pick it. This did." he ponts at the rather large mace in his hand. It's not a hammer, don't get confused.

Then a headshake. "I don't know any Robby, but I saw some movement up here, so I thought I'd investigate." he explains. "I…don't know any of you. But if there's something going on, I'm willing to help out." For the fact that he's 6'5" and has the physical presence of any Asgardian warrior, he sure sounds young. There's a sigh of relief towards Nathaniel. "No, I'm not. And thanks, I really don't want people thinking I'm him, because I would never hear the end about it on Asgard. Thunderstrike." Beat. "Both me and the mace." No Asgardian accent though. Though the explosion makes him glance over the side of the building. "I think someone started without you."

"No, Thor's got a hammer. Fun story, one time, at the lake house-" Hold on, definitely not JLA story time, Kate. Kate turns quickly toward the sound of the blow-out from the windows across the street, catching sight of the rocket trail with a curse. "Nate!" she says, pointing to it. "All right, so much for stealth. Thunderstrike? You're coming in the front with me. Robin, take the roof, cover the exits. Nate, see if you can see if that rocket's coming from friend or foe." Without waiting for responses, she fires a grappling arrow at the warehouse, sliding down to the front entrance.

Damian grows immediately frustrated. The exits. The exits is a job for poppy flowers waving on the breeze on the plains of Afghanistan. But, rather than protest, scoff, get pithy, or flat out refuse, he reaches for his grapnel gun and fires it across the way onto the roof. He's yanked off into the distance and lands safely across the street at the other rooftop, almost seeming to ignore the rocket as he takes up position.

Nathaniel detects the rocket launching, which is something that really, really shouldn't happen in the middle of a city in this time. "Got it," he replies to Hawkeye flying up and trying to catch the rocket with a gravimetic forcefield and pull it upwards, so it explodes as high as possible. Some windows are probably going to shatter anyway.

His armor computers track down the point of origin of the rocket back to Deadpool's position. If the mercenary is still there, he would be spotted and likely identified from online databanks.

"Hey! That was my rocket!" Deadpool sticks his head out of the window and looks around wildly, then spots the heroes swinging into action. He dramatically shakes a fist at the company overhead, scowling theatrically behind his mask. "You brats! Get outta here! Daddy needs his explosives!"

Deadpool vanishes into the apartment, then a moment later dives out the window, fumbling with a grappling hook much like Robin was employing.

Except it's really just a piece of rebar on a long piece of rope, and he doesn't get it sorted out until he's already about two stories down. The rebar goes flying, catches, and Deadpool starts to swing— and promptly slams into the asphalt street underfoot.


A team thing, Kevin hasn't really done a team thing. Okay, well, yes he has, but it was bunchof rowdy Asgardians looking to hit stuff. Kate goes off the roof, causing him simply drop off the edge, spinning the mace slowly so the impact isn't so hard. On the ground now, he looks at the front enterance. "They'll be waiting. Good." he grunts. It's not going to take much to explode the doors inward, just one good heavy swing with the mace. And the first person he sees, is going to get punted through a wall. No point in being subtle at this point. Deadpool already saw to that. And besides, subtle is not exactly his way anyways.

The exits is a job for someone who's going to scare the crap out of anyone who thinks they're going to make it out. And Kate trusts Damian to handle that part. Besides, there's a potentially dangerous weapon that could get out in the hands of drug dealers without a good guard for the exits.

Landing smoothly in front of the doors, Kate draws a flash-bang arrow to the string, giving the door just enough of a nudge with one shoulder to push it open and fire inside. The warehouse lights up with a bang, sending the gang members inside scrambling. "Justice League!" Kate exclaims. "Put down your weapons!" It's not that she expects them to do it, so much as it's…procedure. Ugh.

Inside, Robby is zip-tied to a folding chair, which is now on its side on the floor, knocked over in the panic. At least half a dozen young men in hoodies and oversized jeans are scrambling for cover and guns. One of them has Robby's gloves in his hands, though he doesn't have them on yet.

Robin makes good work from his idle, devilish hands. He begins to rig up a teargas contraption as he waits. Gently he lowers two tear-gas canisters, rigged with a trigger to pull when the need shall strike. All the while he wonders who the hell the guy in red is. The Justice League is a crazy ass team. That much is for sure.

Iron Guard sees Deadpool, identifying him. "Well, he is a… lunatic," ouch. And it looks like Deadpool put himself out of the scene (and into traction). Nathaniel calls the local hospital to give them the details, unaware of the crazy merc regenerative abilities. Then he follows Kate and Robin inside, hoping to be the one to catch the bullets.

Deadpool groans and gets up off the ground, leaving a bloody smear about ten feet long behind him. "Ow. That… ow."

The peice of rebar plummets off the hook it'd landed, and hits him on the head.

"Ow! Curse you ACME budget products!" Quality control's really gone downhill since they outsourced production to China. Racist.

"Right? So racist. Okay, so… Hmm."

He eyes the six-story reach to where the action's happening, and then dashes towards the alley for the fire escape. With a *CLANG* he starts scaling the side of the building, trying to catch up to the other heroes!

One of the gang-bangers guarding the door gets sent into the wall from a blow of the mace. No, he's not dead, but he's sure not going to be be feeling good in the morning. Kevin strolls in, then leaping across the room and getting right into the mix of the guys that're running for the guns, a combination of mace swings and Asgardian martial prowess going to work at dispatching them. And yes, for the fact, he is pulling his punches. Which is hard to do at times. If there was one thing he trained to love, it was a good fight.

"Right, so, we warned you," Kate mutters, getting a look at the scene from a sliver of cover behind the doorway. "Robin, back left!" she calls to the hidden bat. "Gloves headed for the door! What kind of lunatic?" she adds for Nathaniel, swapping out her arrows. Kevin gets two of the dealers in his first rush, while they're disoriented, but four more have made it to cover…and the automatic weapons they have stashed here. In a moment, the air is full of gunfire, mostly aimed at the young Asgardian.

At Kate's recommendation, Robin pulls the trigger on the two tear gas canisters and leaps off the building. The wire comes taught at the last second, bringing him down towards the earth in perfect stride. He presses a device on his utility belt and cuts the line with a rebreather over his face and two batarangs in his hands.

"Apparently he goes by as Deadpool," comments Nathaniel, trying to make himself heard among the gunfire without raising his voice. Kate's arrows are followed by short burst of repulsor-like force blasts. Nothing deadly, he is aiming to stun and disarm.

"Do you see your friend? We should get him out of here first of all," bullets are ricocheting off Asgardian super-weapons. Those are dangerous! Fortunately no lightning gloves yet. He attempts to scan again for the devices.

Deadpool bursts into the window near the fire escape, a katana in one hand and a compact SMG in the other. The muzzle of the weapon dances up and down and belches a gout of fire and hot lead, the deafening report of pistol fire rattling the walls.

One gang member goes down hard, and Deadpool rushes to melee range with his katana snapping around in silvery arcs of motion.

"Aww right, get the party started!" he crows, seemingly unaffected by the noise or tear gas being deployed.

Getting shot at is something to get used to. The normal desire is to get out of the way. Or dodge or whatever. That's as Kevin. As Thunderstrike, bullets aren't really a huge issue, whether by his physical durability making bullets bounce harmlessly of him or by him spinning his mace, which redirect them. And since he's spinning it, he send it right at them, careering into the cover their using. If wall or table or concrete barrier, the mace is going through and it's going to hit somebody. As soon as it's thrown, the mace comes back to the thrower's hand, clutching it again. But he has another thought in mind. Even though he didn't get a huge rundown of what's going on, seeing someone tied to a chair does put that all together. But, can't really rescue him amid a hail of gunfire, and he is sort of playing the bullet soak and attention getting. So someone else can get him while Kevin takes up the majority of attention. He'll keep hitting things.

"Oh my god, Deadpool?" Kate has just enough time to groan before the red-and-black maelstrom of chaos bursts into the warehouse. "Careful, that guy heals. And his brains don't just come out of things, it takes, like. Special enzyme cleaners or something." Let's not talk about why she knows that. "Chair on the floor, your four o'clock," she calls back to Nathaniel, firing a bolo arrow where Robin's dropped his tear gas.

"Hey, watch the ricochet!" she shouts toward Kevin, ducking back behind the door herself. Two more gangsters go down when the mace crashes through their cover - folding tables are great for portioning out drugs, but less good as cover against godly weapons - but one of the other two men left dives for his friend with the gloves in the tear gas.

As men begin to come towards Robin, the young man's hidden eyes look not dissimilar to a conductor at home in a symphony. It feels like the sweetest music to him as he can predict the notes before they're about to come. A duck, a punch to the ground, upper cut. He's done. The next a throat shot and a knee to the face. It's moments like these he lives for, and their screams are like an applause to his ears.

Nathaniel didn't expect Deadpool to return. Kate comment about him healing explains it. "And heals very fast," he adds unnecessarily. "Brains, uh? I am not sure I want to know the details. But I will try to protect Johnson." Which means he flies to the young man and grabs him, chair and all, trying to pull him out of the firefight and away from stray shots. "Deadpool is killing those gangers," he comments. No, he doesn't care too much (working on it) but it might be important for Kate.

Deadpool cuts across the room on an opposite angle to Robin and the Thunderstrike fellow. His entire fighting style seems to be 100% offense— no mind of his personal defense or risk of injury. It costs him, too— a pair of gunshots to the gut and a swinging crowbar clocks him in the shoulder. He seems unfazed by the injuries and lays waste with his sword and TMP, putting three rounds in the back of one gangster fleeing for the door and then tracking the muzzle towards someone rushing up at Robin's blind spot and emitting another *brrapapap* of fast, automatic fire.
There is only the fury of battle with Kevin. Young, trained, but not experienced. He's just to wading in the middle of a fight and caring less about finesse, more about pure brute force, tempered with enough training to not to kill anything you're looking at. At least on Midgard. Beyond it, that's a whole other topic.

With a nod back at Kate, Kevin, starts spinning his mace differently, now remembering that he's not by himself and he should probably watch where the bullets go after they bounce off him or his mace. So now, with whatever shoots him, he angles the head of the mace to point them right back at where they were being shot at or at walls. But as he closes in on the ones who haven't run yet, he's going to put them down for the count witha series of blows meant to incapaciate. Okay, well, they may have a few broken limbs, but they'll live.

"Yeah, he does that, too," Kate grimaces to Iron Guard's comment. "Hey!" She fires an old-fashioned pointy arrow at the back of Deadpool's skull. "Knock it off with the killing!" Admittedly, shooting someone in the head is kind of cathartic.

Damian has three down around his cloud of tear gas, and Kevin's taken out four more - most in some semblance of bruised, battered, and strained ligaments, while Deadpool's left another three in various pieces. The gunfire's died - no one's messing with triggers at this point - and the warehouse…well. It's a good thing it was mostly abandoned in the first place.

"Okay, so, that could have gone more smoothly," Kate sighs. "Nathaniel, is Robby at least okay?"

Robin stops and stands more at ease, but his look to Kate is anything but. The no killing thing is a hallmark of what it means to be one of his father's men. And now that rule has been trashed and exploited right in front of him—and his face shows it.

While cutting the ropes holding the young hero, Iron Guard analyzes the injuries of the captured boy. "Broken arm," he answers Kate, and also informs Robby, "hold still." Then adds, "no injuries he won't recover completely in a few weeks." So good news. Except for the gang members ongoing massacre. "An ambulance should be here in five minutes… although maybe I should call for a dozen of them."

Deadpool goes down like a sack of bricks when Kate shoots him in the head. "Nngghn! Ri' inth mdullbba blaagaaata," he grunts, sprawling on the ground. He flaps his hands around and manages to sit partially upright, brain matter and blood marring his outfit. "HATE it when y'do that," he slurs, hands flopping around bonelessly. "shumwun halp m'out hur," he mumbles, twitching. Hands wrap around the arrow and he starts trying to tug it out of his skull.

The big human-turned-Asgardian stops once the last man falls over, sniffing. Then surveying the damage. He pulls up goggles on his face to get a better look at things, leaving the bandana tied to the lower part of his face. "Well, that was someting. Think I needed that." But clearly, there is something lacking. Holding back is never all that fun. That might be the one part he misses about Asgard. Either full-bore or not at all.

Having done his part, he hangs back. They were here to rescue someone and he just happened to be in the area. Though he'll blink when Kate puts an arrow in Deadpool's skull. Well, that's new. Hearing about the injuries to Robby, he steps up. "Hold on. I'm…er, an EMT. Or well, I'm going to school for it. "Keep him stable, don't let him move the arm."

"Robin." Kate's voice is warning when she sees that look on Damian's face, jogging into the warehouse to get between him and Deadpool. "Not going to accomplish anything. Deadpool, you're…under arrest. Or something. See, this is what I was trying to tell Queen, we've got literally nothing set up to deal with this," she points out to Kevin and Robin, gesturing at Deadpool. "He meant well, but he's got no sense of reasonable force, and people see what he does and assume we're all doing it. And yeah, Iron Guard, we're going to need a few ambulance crews in here," she adds over the comms. "Go see if anyone needs first aid," she nods to Robin and Kevin. "I'll keep him here." Or at least she'll try.

Damian makes no movement to aid Deadpool with his brain matter predicament. His long gaze stays on Kate for a moment after she tells him what to do, but from there he's aiding anyone who needs it, in order of the most needy to the least. Putting people back together was something Tim was better at (one of the few things, of course). Damian's expertise is in breaking them. But he does have some skills in this regard, however, and puts them to use quickly.

Nathaniel returns to the battleground after leaving Robby resting safely and glances at the injured and dying. Sheesh. "Is there any of them that does not need first aid?" He is not offering, either. "What do you mean you don't have anything setup to deal with this? Kidnapping and drug dealing are hardly original criminal endeavors?"

"Nngghnn…. nngh!" Deadpool pulls out the arrow and sets it aside, rubbing the already-sealing hole in his skull. "Man! Right in the friggin' brainpan! I hate it when you do that," he complains at Kate, half-heartedly throwing the arrow at the archeress. "Right in the brainmeats. Leaves all my extremeities tingling weird for hours."

He steps closer to Kate. "Hours, Kate."

Closer. "ALL. Of them."

Closer still. "HOURS."

EVEN CLOSER. "Are you as turned on as I am?"

Well, Kevin need some practice with this too. Moving around, he looks after each gangster that he just spent messing up to the point of needing an ambulance. Some resist, thinking he's going to finish the job. And sure there are some cries of pain, but most of what he's doing is fixing dislocated bones, straightening others, and having the strength he does, he has it. Some he doesn't to do anything for, beyond telling them to lie still or they'll make it worse. The ones Deadpool put down are ones that he can't do anything, in pieces or otherwise.

Face punch.

"I meant this nutcase," Kate sighs at Nathaniel. "This one. The Punisher. That damned Deathstroke guy, who I am so going to bring in one day. The system isn't set up to deal with it." Of course, the system is approaching, with the sound of sirens coming down the New York City streets.

Damian returns, having helped two men who were more hurt than the rest. In all, at least from the men he saw, no one was in danger of losing their lives. Aside from those Deadpool got to, of course. "I'm going," Robin says to Kate curtly, obviously still none too pleased.

"Ah, violent vigilantism," sorry Kate. That is also pretty old. Or maybe she really mean the aggressive hitting upon. Fortunately the helmet hides all snickering. Also, not-Thor has paramedic training? Who would have thought? "The police will be here in four minutes, do you want to wait for them?"

"Ow! Don't hit me! I'm very sensitive!" Deadpool rubs his cheek where Kate whalloped him. "The system sucks, and it's boring, and you suck 'cause you're part of a sucky, -boring- system. I mean, look at these guys! Now they're dead, and no one will have to worry about them ever taking cuts in line at the taco place again!" He waves vaguely at the three bodies on the ground, then waggles the gun barrel at the ones being taken away. "I can come finish off the rest of 'em, though, if you guys are too pansy to do it," he tells Robin and Thunderstrike. "Unless you're willing to live dirty butter line cutters in this great city."

"Umm, so hey." Kevin stands back up, holding his mace at his side. "Ma'am?" he looks at Kate. "I can get going if you don't need me. These guys should be stabilized until the paramedics get here. Nothing life-threatening. Thanks for letting me help, but er…I'm pretty new at this thing. If you ever need help again…ah.." he pats himself down. His backpack vanished when he changed. "I don't…have a pen on me. Just. Thanks for letting a nobody like me help out."

He shrugs at Deadpool. "I kill enough when I'm not on Midgard. I gave my word to do so here. On other worlds? It's…less of an issue. Asgardians /really/ like the whole death and dismemberment on others world not named Midgard."

"I have to, it comes with the Justice League thing," Kate answers Nathaniel, stepping in to make a try at disarming Deadpool. No one can say she doesn't try, at least. Or that she has any sense of self-preservation. "Thanks, Thunderstrike. And I'll call you later, Robin. Once this guy is in someone else's custody."

"Fine. I will keep you company," says Iron Guard, keeping an eye on Deadpool. It doesn't seem the red-clad killer is going to hurt Kate, though. "Good to meet you, Thunderstrike. And Robin," wait, where is Robin? Sneaky Gothamites.

"Hey! Stop! Ow!" Deadpool starts slapfighting Kate, with his immense kung-fu abilities of whinging and flailing his hands around nimbly. "I see how it is! You'd care about it if these guys had cut YOU off in line! You'd be all 'Ooh! Deadpool! Thank you for saving me with your bulging muscles! You did a public service!'"

He eyes Kevin and Nathanial, then leans comically aside to Kate. "Weren't there three of them a second ago?"

There's a *tink* of metal hiting the ground and then the flashbang goes off. Deadpool leaps sideways and straight out the window, falling towards the ground with a *WAAHAHAHHAAH THUMP*. Then a long, groaning "Owwwww."

"Son of a-" Kate ducks at the flashing, then just rubs a hand at her brow. "Well. It was probably too much to hope I could keep that under wraps. At least we got the kid out." By then the police are arriving, and it's all reports and official business from there. Robby, though, is in one piece.

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