April 13, 2016:

Heather meets her first mugger, and then her first superhero. First scene on-grid for both.

Some random alleyway

A "shortcut" between Heather's dorm and her self-defense classes.


NPCs: Some thug

Mentions: None

Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

They straight up tell you not to go out at night, except for the fact that everyone does it anyway. Hell the same people who tell you the city isn't safe at night, yeah no joke they're usually the ones getting dragged home drunk or high at all hours of the night. It's honestly sort of empty advice then, a feel good blanket warning for when your number does finally get punched. It's not bad advice either if we're honest, because well this is New York and there are some uncool cats out there. Take Jake Tines for instance, a rap sheet as long as your arm. A man of decidedly intemperate disposition, a killer and a thief. He's also a bigot, and when you're that far down the hole? Well you make friends, like with the purifiers for instance?
Tonight then, well things are not going according to plan for Mr.Tines. He's already smeared in, well lets be frank not quite his blood by this point. A dented aluminum bat in one hand, glock in the other and a distinctive black and white cross T-shirt. Yaknow, the defacto "I wanna be a Purifier" outfit? Coughing and sputtering as he races down a side alley, pausing to peer behind him. He takes a moment, hunching over his knees to try and catch his breath. He should be good,right? "Jesus fuck, jesus fucking christ." Slowly rising to stuff his handgun under one arm, as he reaches for his cellphone.
He's not alone mind you, this is a city after all. Thats not the point here however, theres a hood with a gun covered in blood. The important point to consider, is who the fuck was he running away from?(re)

It's quite true that one shouldn't be out after dark in the big city. A big city full of criminals and the sometimes shady vigilantes who hunt them. Indeed, the thought "My parents would kill me if they knew I was out this late" crossed Heather's mind more than once as she strolled the streets.
But no. Tonight was her parent-mandated self-defense class. Of course, it never usually ran this late. She'd stayed after to spar with a few other of the more dedicated students. She'd lost track of time, and now she finds herself in the dark streets, high on endorphins. High enough on endorphins that she even braves a shortcut through an alley. This alley is less occupied than she would have hoped, though, and she finds herself face-to-face with a man with a gun, some blood, and clearly not wanting to be followed.

Theres a moment there, Jake just sort of freezes as he screws his head around to stare at Heather. Maybe he'll run away, or maay-"Fuck."Is all he offers until he lets that phone drop and the gun comes up. "Wallet, cellphone on the ground right now. You play this shit cool, and I don't fucking kill you yeah?"Believe it or not, stick up men are kind of a rare breed. Being a cool cat whilst you're holding a gun on your victim, most crooks never quite get that right. They get nervous and turn a robbery into a murder, they get too close and it turns into a brawl. Well judging by just how nervous Jake there is, take your guess.
What he doesn't see is important here, he's not alone down here in that alley anymore. Now we've got Heather Obviously, and then theres that -other- dude. It's hard to make out in the dark alley, but holy fuck is that some dude dressed up like a fucking knight? Granted yes those appear to be magazine pouches right there, and theres an assault rifle slung over one shoulder. Ok theres also a pistol on his hip, but he's got the important shit. A heater shield emblazoned with a green boar against a gold background, and a fucking sword. He moves almost casually down the alley, before finally smashing that sturdy shield against his neat matching green breast plate. "A coward and a bigot, you're some combination buddy. Now why don't we finish what we started?"
Just like that, Jake turns and doesn't even have time to start cursing. For a moment the alley explodes in light and noise, as gunshots ring out.

It takes her a moment to realize what she's gotten herself into, but Heather echoes the criminal's swearing when she does. Her hands go up first, instinct built up from a childhood watching way too many cop shoes. Then a moment later after the demands are met has her fumbling for her things. She's halfway towards her cellphone before she notices a knight of all things, and she just kind of stops in place. The way she stares may even have revealed the man before he made a load of noise.
Then, there's gunshots. Heather is not immune to gunshots. Even if she knew that she were a mutant with powers, she'd still be just as vulnerable to bullets as anyone else. So the first shot fired has her jump. By the second, she's letting out a scream and making a mad dash for a dumpster a little down the way, trying to avoid any stray fire, hands on the back of her head as she curls into a little ball.

Rounds smash into that shield, and the fight kicks off right about there. That gun arm is grabbed by the wrist and pulled across, before that shield swings up and finally smashes into the joint. It's kind've nasty, theres a crunch and a faint metallic tang in the air as that gun goes skittering away. Theres a scream, and well Bog silences that mess with a head butt that drops Jake into a heap on the ground right where he stood. Just like that, over and done. Theres a heavy sigh, enough to send misted breath pouring out of that helmet like fog. Slowly he collects the man's wallet, the gun, the cellphone and then he's off. Slinging that shield over his back, before drawing to a pause.
So no that's not shining armor at all. It's olivine if anything, and decorated from head to toe with elaborate gold leaf relief. Calmly he takes a bended knee to extend a gauntlet towards Heather. "Are you hurt, is there anything I can do for you miss?"On bended knee or otherwise, well he's sort've a huge dude even before that armor. "I'm the Bogatyr, I'm one of the good guys. You have nothing to fear from me, and a Knight's word is his bond I assure you."

Of course, Heather doesn't see any of the fight, no matter how nasty it is. Or how brief. She's too busy avoiding the ricochets from the shield from her hiding place on the far side of the dumpster. This is where she stays for the full duration. Even after, she doesn't so much as look up until she hears a voice and sees the offered hand in her peripheral vision. Then, she does look up. She looks over the knight, expression screaming "what is this madness?"
"You guys really do come out the woodwork over here," she observes, eyeing the hand a few moments, "Are you human?" Regardless the answer, she takes the hand just long enough to pull up to her feet. "So much for self-defense class. Kind of useless… but no, I'm not hurt. I don't think…" she seems struck with the realization that she probably should be after all that chaos. She spends a few moments patting herself down, checking for injuries and not seeming to find any.

"Sort of, technically I'm a lesser diety but take that for whatever it's worth. People tend to get kind of funny about religion though, so don't sweat it."Not that he seems terribly wound up over anything, like the fight or getting shot or yaknow. Anything. "Oh by all means, self defense is great. Keep at it, it's a worthy endeavor. Life is a worthy thing to protect, even if it's only your own."Finally rising, and yeah Bogatyr? Big dude, but there is a sense of calm at play here. It's oddly disarming, more than likely. "Looks like good fortune was on your side tonight, is there anything you need?" Half turning to peer back down the alley for a moment, before glancing back towards Heather. "It's a pity really, breaks my heart. The black and white cross these assholes wear?"He kicks the unconcious asshole in the head, just for effect. "Now the Purifiers claim it, but once upon a time it belonged to a sacred order of knights. The Knights Hospitler, doctors and warriors all. Now all that work, and this is what their flag is being used for. Breaks my heart."

"Lesser deity?" the student raises her brow in skeptical disbelief. She doesn't quite know what to do with that tidbit. She files it away for future reference for the moment, still shaken up from this most recent ordeal. While she may be a student of history, Russian folklore is a bit outside her specialty even when she's not pumped full of adrenaline and terror. "But, uh. Yeah. I'll keep at it, I guess," she answers, feeling slightly patronized by the encouragement.
"The Order of the Knights of Saint John of Jerusalem. Yeah, though typically it's the Maltese Cross they wore… or that's what they were more known for. But symbols change, I guess," Heather gives a wary shrug, looking over at the body. She's a history student (art history, mostly) and isn't totally unaccustomed to weirdos that worship chivalry, but this all was a bit much. Kicking someone while they're down would seem a bit odd if she were thinking more clearly. She muses, "He probably would have shot me if he knew I support mutant rights."

"My aren't we well read, I don't suppose you know where I'm from by my name?"He sounds, well theres a visor it's hard to tell but amused if anything. "Well the simple straight cross was much easier to tailor, and English knights used to be big into thier Tabbards. They'd go through them quite regularly, so in the real world? Simple straight cross, but thats beside the point. It's a real shame, these idiots all think they're some kind of knight errant. I'd grant them the honor they deserve if I had the time, honor of the sword that is."
"Oh well, there are many gods. Powerful spirits, demons and all the sort. There used to be more of course, but I'm hardly rare I'm afraid. You have probably stood in line behind one, or shared a diner. We're not all some old man with a beard, standing on a cloud silently judging everyone. Most of us are decidedly more, planted in the physical realm than that. None of us are nearly as omnipotent as people tend to presume, nor are any of us all knowing."Theres a pause there, as he drops a Gauntlet down to rest comfortably atop that sheathed sword. "Back when man was still taming fire, things were much more visible. Then we had the rise of a few major players, and it turned into this circle jerk about who is more powerful."And a dismissive wave. "As if any of us could create all of existance from nothing, really not how it works."

"Honestly? Not a clue. Tyr is an old Germanic god of law, but Bogatyr isn't a name I'm familiar with," Heather confesses. Though just getting the chance to talk history and myth a little seems to be taking the edge off. "Guess I'm lucky none of those bullets bounced off your shield and hit me. And you're lucky I stalled the guy you were after. Or so it seemed?" she wonders, raising a brow over at the lesser deity.
"I believe it. I mean we have aliens and mind readers. Why not gods and demons?" Heather rolls her eyes, apparently thinking all this absurd even if she does genuinely accept the possibility. There's more to her pondering, of course, but she (perhaps wisely) keeps her mouth shut for the moment. "Don't typically expect deities to use phrases like 'circle jerk' though, mm?"

"Never actually met Tyr, I was always a little further East when most of those guys were running around. Bogatyr, A Russian knight-errant. Almost all the stories are either fiction or just plain taken out of context, a few of them were real though. Anywho the word itself, began with me. As for my language, well."The knight gives a shrug there, meandering calmly off to one side of the alley if only to stay out of at least a few sight lines. "It is disrespectful by my measure, to venture to a foreign land and refuse to use their native tongue. I live in America now, so I should speak as an American. Would you really prefer I speak in an ancient pre-slavic language nobody will ever understand? That doesn't make a fellow mysterious and exotic, it makes them an inconsiderate ass."
"We should all endeavor to be polite, and considerate of each other where appropriate yes? So this being New York, well of course I use coarse language quite freely. This is the language of the realm, as it were."And a beat as Bog seems to finally switch gears "Oh, the ricochet thing? Yeah not fatal, pieces of the copper jacket. The lead core, the primary mass of the projectile shatters upon impact. Turns to a fine powder almost, at worst a coarse sand. The Copper jacket though, well thats somewhat elastic so it tends to splinter off into larger thin sheets which might hurt. You'd be hard pressed to actually die from one though, wouldn't make it through a T-shirt."and to illustrate the point? He withdraws the glock in question, and jacks a round from the chamber. "FMJ, see?"And smoosh, he just flattens the thing out between his fingers before offering it over. "Everyone worries about ricochets, unless it's from a very shallow angle? Don't sweat it. Important detail to remember in an urban jungle."

"Mm," Heather answers noncommittally. The skepticism is still there as the knight talks about Germanic gods as if they're real. Of course, it's not like Thor doesn't walk the Earth every now and again in the modern day… but that's besides the point. "I'm looking to work in a museum, so that might actually interest me more than you'd think. Anyway, it was just really weird to hear a self-proclaimed lesser deity dressed up like a knight and talking like that," she attempts to explain.
The talk about ricochet seems not terribly comforting. She leans away from the offered bullet, not seeming inclined to touch it. "No thanks," she answers, "Harmless or not, I'd rather not risk it. I'm a squishy human, not some immortal demigod."

"I'm not dressed up like a knight, I am a knight. I'm a Knight, in armor. I don't put on spandex and run around trying to get followers on twitter, I defend the realm."A pause, before unzipping a neat little panel along the back panel for those magazines to reveal well all sorts of doodads. "Here, how about I bestow onto you a blessing. A boon of my favor, something concrete you can turn to to make sure this all was real."And out comes, a sharpie. "Now if you please, give me your hand for just a moment. I was thought to be the god of knights, not wierdo creeper dudes so just relax alright?"Bog does offer fourth a gauntlet, and well clicks that sharpie out.

"Not sure most of the spandex-wearers even know what twitter is, let alone try for followers," Heather notes dubiously. A brow is raised as said doodads are revealed. "You're chock full of surprises, Sir Knight," she observes, eyes a little widened. And then the sharpie comes out and the surprise is replaced with 'really?' at how… mundane it is. She leans back slightly again at the sharpie, "Uh. So I'm grateful for you helping me and all, but… not really looking for autographs." Still, she offers out a limp hand anyway, as if expecting the knight to bite or something.

Bogatyr chuckles and gets to scribbling, strange sigils in something of an array across the palm of the hand. "I don't do autographs, but really you should check twitter more often I suppose. "And then his work done, he steps back to tuck that sharpie away. "Alright, now close your hand and then open it again and you shall be granted the boon you were promised. Just remember, steer clear of M-town for awhile. The so-called Purifiers are out in full force lately, and as we covered earlier I'm hardly all knowing."and with that, he turns and starts off into the night. Reaching back to pull that shield around, a Green boar against a gold background. "And keep up the training, everyone should know how to defend themselves."and he goes.

The college student peers down at her palm as Bogatyr doodles on it, trying to make heads or tails of the markings. She doesn't seem quite able to manage it. She's engrossed enough, at least, to let the Twitter comment slide. "This isn't going to explode or anything is it?" she wonders dryly, not entirely serious as she closes her hand into a fist. "I don't have much cause to be in M-town to begin with, so I'll manage that easy enough," Heather confesses with a little shrug. She opens her hand finally as he turns to go, watching him more than her hand.

The weight comes first, but theres something there. That'd be a pair of brass knuckles, Well actually it's iron but you get the point. They're simple enough and sturdy, quite a fistfull really. Aside from a few scuffs and scrapes it looks to be in fairly nice condition too. The only decoration, is an engraving and a little paint on both sides. A green boar against a gold background,just the thing to lay somone out flat right?

"Huh," is Heather's initial response when she looks back to her hands. She hefts the objects a few times, as if testing to see if they really exist. The experimenting continues with some visual examination. The engraving gets particular attention. Something to look up when she gets home. See if she can't find out more about this strange, immortal knight…

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