Junkbot Stomp

November 13, 2016:

An unlikely quartet of heroes stop a bunch of junkbots from stomping Lower Manhattan.

Lower Manhattan

The southern end of the island of Manhattan is the seat of Wall Street and
City Hall. Bounded by the Hudson on the west, the East River on the east,
and the harbor to the south, it's a veritable mosaic of smaller, storied
neighborhoods that fill in the patchwork south of 14th street. From the
arts-friendly, boutique-laden, gentrified areas of Greenwich Village, SoHo,
and TriBeCa, to the tenement dwelling, immigrant-filled, working class
districts in the Lower East Side, Bowery, Little Italy, Lower Manhattan is
one of the most diverse places in the city. Just about anything can be found
here, and often is.


NPCs: None.

Mentions: None.


Mood Music: [* None.]

Fade In…

They say anything can be found in Lower Manhattan. And often is. That being the case, especially in these trying times, it is perhaps no surprise that police scanners and local media are now screaming about a horde of 'monsters' running rampant near the south shore. And, indeed, there very much are. They seem, however, to be animated… what? Trash? Scrap metal? broken bits of machinery? The refuse of the city provides great fodder for minds with the capacity to make new things out of old, it's true. But this? This is some DIY nightmare gone crazy.


Thing are never quiet on Earth! Always something new going on. Like new TV shows or a new hot pastry, or new giant scrab machines to terrorize the waterfront.

The waterfront wasn't so far, which puts the plucky green superhero down there fist, whipping around over the the scrap creatures as she surveys the scene. ~~Everybody stay back!~~ she casts out to the bystanders. ~~We don't want you to get hurt!~~


"Roger. I hear you. I shouldn't be more than ninety seconds inbound. Please inform the FAA that there's going to be a transsonic disturbance over New York City in fifteen seconds. Thank you." Captain Marvel tries to be polite. The FAA will be rather annoyed, but at least she's warning them now.

Down below, there won't be much clue. Not at first. Carol's skipping over the outer envelope of the atmosphere. But eventually, there will be a glowing golden streak in the sky. That streak will eventually resolve itself into Captain Marvel. Isn't re-entry grand? The best part is all the thermal energy she's absorbing as she comes in hot, aiming for the scene while braking with all her might to prevent a crater when she lands.

Subtle. That's the one thing Captain Marvel is not.


There are many of these scrap monsters. Some crawl forward on broken shovels from back hoes or pieces of abandoned ship hulls. They look like giant crabs. Others roll on treads, rather like oversized rolling pins. Some, however, are humanoid — rebar, wood, and the occasional i-beam bent into some sort of junkbot shape, moving forward and collecting more scrap — or, more accurately, anything mechanical that gets in their way… garbage bins, newspaper boxes, light stands, cars — with people inside.

Even as Captain Marvel streaks in from above, Wonder Woman streaks in from the north, sword and shield in hand. The bystanders are already scattering, thanks partly to their own terror, but also in response for Miss Martian's mental contact. (Which, yes, freaks some of them out even more.)


Oh no! That was not at all what she wanted! The green girl swings around and lands, more or less in the path of the moving machines, in time to scoop up a panicing young man. She hauls him up to a rooftop with a smile. "Don't worry, you're safe now!" she says eagerly, before darting off. "I'M STUCK ON THE ROOF!" he shouts, seeming to have missed the point.

Others are streaking in to help. The boom actually gets a startle from the Martian. "Hello!" comes a rather friendly telepathic voice. ~~Are you here to save the day?~~


Metal boots touch down onto the street as a lone figure strides his way through the fleeing masses. Music echos out through his helmet as he circles round his hands. Tony's head bobs in time with the beat as he just calls out "He was turned to steel, in the great magnetic field" As he takes a bite out of an all American cheeseburger, chunks fly out of his mouth as he just sings along mouth full face mask open. "Where he traveled time for the future of mankind"

Even as he looks towards these giant monsters he simply takes another bit of his burger. The music blares louder then before as he slams his hands down along with the drum beat. "Nobody wants him." He idly fires off a blast to snag the attention of one of the monsters. "He just stares at the world." One last bite finishing off the burger. "Plotting his vengence" The wrapper gets wadded up. "That he will soon unfold!" The wrapper gets thrown hard right towards one of the trash bins before it gets picked up and imbibed by one of the scrap creatures. "Hey, come on rust bucket, I had that shot." A quick swallow before the face plate on his bright red and yellow suit slams down.


~~That's the idea, kid.~~ comes Captain Marvel's response to the thought in her head that wasn't in her own mental voice - not exactly something she's super comfortable with, but she has experienced it more than enough time sto know what to do in response, and doens't lose her stuff.

Captain Marvel does not appear with a musical soundtrack. She doesn't try to show off. She just lands in a three-point stance right in front of one of the largest of the robots, and tears open the roof of the sedan that has formed its new chest, then rips off the seatbelt harness holding in its driver. "Time to leave, Sir." she offers, as she yanks him up into her arms and flies off to put him on a rooftop. Probably the one with the shouting civilian already trapped there. "Back later. See ya." And off she goes. More robots to fight.


Wonder Woman isn't entirely open to strange telepathic contact, but Miss Martian's message does get through. "Of course," is her response, a faint touch of good-natured humour in her tone. And, indeed, she focuses on one of the larger steamrollers, hefting it up off the pavement and lifting it high into the air as she looks for a safe place to deposit it — preferably in pieces.

The junkbots quickly discern that the various supers in the area aren't necessarily friendly to their cause. So, their trajectories adjust, dividing to being converging on their foes. That said, given the fact all four seem to be flight capable and the bots are ground-based… well, the facades of buildings soon become scalable platforms, particularly as the creatures start creating scaffolding out of junk.


The green girl has a huge grin on her face, as the others agree with her. She takes up into the air and skims over the robots, sending quick blasts down with her eye beams to disrupt them. After she makes a pass over them, she does a flying tackle at one of the bigger bots in the rear, and throws it at one of its compatriots.


Well, one of said heroes wasn't flying yet, but still, the bots can be excused for recognizing that Iron Man can fly. Captain Marvel, however, is made of fly. That's how Kit thinks of it, as she has said on multiple occassions. Carol decides to use that telepathic contact to let the younger heroine know her plan, in hopes she can tell the others, without the robots to overhear it. ~~Take out the scaffolding. Keep them on the ground. And get the civilians out of the vehicles and out of the way. Then we can work on taking them down.~~

That said, Carol suits her actions to her telepathic message, as she starts slamming photonic blasts into the joins of the scaffolding, dropping the robots back down to the ground with whatever damage might ensue. She knows she saw at least one other passenger vehicle trapped in one of these things … where was it?


As Tony stumbles slightly before flying into the air one thing becomes very clear: He's not exactly flying sober. His own flight path is wobbly, the man inside the suit seemingly having a good bit of trouble just staying properly up in the air, as he fires a wild shot down in the direction of the junk bots. He flips around a full five hundred forty degrees before firing over a shoulder at one of the legs of a climbing junk bot. While normally the shot might have missed the suits AI takes over and makes sure to do the proper adjustments and calculations to get the job done.


Whatever mind that is controlling these bots — and there must be one, right? — would have to have been born very recently not to recognize any of the heroes. Or, at least, most of them… Iron Man included. Indeed, the green telepath might sense a strange sense of frustration coming from the bots as they're tossed around like rag dolls and remade into new scrap heaps (which do get cannibalized by their brethren, of course)

Assuming the telepath is able to pass Captain Marvel's message on, of course, Diana acquiesces to the plan. It sounds like a decent one to her. So, she tosses the steamroller into a heap on one of the empty docks, dismantling it thoroughly with a few solid, and speedy hits, before she turns and sweeps up the street to start pulling down junky siege ladders. Her proximity to the ground, makes it obvious the bots are now definitely focused on the heroes, as those nearest her turn to converge on her.

Needless to say, however, any of the heroes can pull these things apart without a lot of difficulty. The real challenge is to find their source, while protecting the innocents all around.


Miss MArtian does, indeed, promptly relay the message, adding on ~~Good plan!~~ She flips back into the sky aand lands on the other side of a robot, giving it a hard kick and breaking it into pieces. ~~ They're angry,~~ she muses. ~~How are they angry, they're robots?~~ She pops up into the air, hovering above the street and focusing. Her mind jumps about, finding various threads and pulling, and silencing. Finally, she points. ~~THAT WAY!~~


As opposed to doing the smart thing, and simply shooting towards the scafolding Iron Man does the cool looking thing of kicking his thrusters into overdrive. He swings out into the sky for a moment the light of the sun glistening off his freshly painted armor, before slamming down full speed through the scaffolding. Like a speeding red and yellow bullet he swerves around barely managing to avoid slamming face first into a nearby building.


~~Fun fact: robots require electronic brains. These guys don't have that. So unless there's a whole lot of nanotech going on, I'm figuring someone is making this happen. You can find 'em. So find 'em, kiddo, and take them out. We'll get the rest.~~ That's Captain Marvel's latest, as she heads into battle, continuing to take down those impromptu ladders and scaffolds, and then engaging with the bots. She gets punted. She gets smacked. And she keeps going. That's what heroes do, after all.

Carol will worry about dragging Tony to a Meeting later.


"I second that," Diana says in response to Captain Marvel's plan. She believes in the young green girl. That's just what she does. So, she concentrates on pulling down scaffolding and using it to bind, contain, and, where necessary, destroy the oncoming bots. She does, mind, keep an eye on the drunken Iron Man… if only to be ready to save him from himself, nevermind the innocents around him.

Off on the roof of a building near the docks, overlooking a junk yard, a young man with arm brace crutches stands looking out over the city and the bots crawling through it. A greenish aura, obvious to those with psionic sensitivity, surrounds his head… a colour echoed in the animating force of the bots. He holds a sketchpad in his hands and his expression has a sort of daydreamy look on it. Curious and detached.


"You know some people might call it destruction of property." Called out as he slams through knocking one set of scaffolding down after another with his own bright metal body. "But I call it a steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerike" Already laughing at his own joke as he makes quick work of the remaining work related equipment. He spins up into the air throwing his arms out to either side as he chuckles and has the time of his life. "You know I always thought the Junkions were pretty cool, but the whole kidnapping people thing is kind of a deal breaker."


Well Iron Man is sure putting on a show! With the others going after the robots and scaffolding, Megan whips around and heads in the direction she found, following the thread as shegets closer and closer, as the green aura gets stronger. She drops in next to him and reachs over, taking the pad. "Hi," she says. "Soooooo, if you could *stop* sending a wave of destruction across the city, that'd be super nice."


Captain Marvel spends her time pounding down the scrap bots. It's messy, but at least she has an opportunity to let out her frustrations. Just as long as she doesn't let civilians or property get damaged in the process, it's the best therapy.


The young man blinks as Megan appears — seemingly out of nowhere to his thinking. Wow, she's pretty! His concentration completely shot, the bots all crumble into a demolition crew's aftermath, pieces of trash and scrap scattered in heaps all through the waterfront area and oncoming streets. "Wha—?" he says intelligently. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, confused and, frankly, juvenile in a way that suggests not so much irresponsibility as a slowed maturity. Indeed, a closer look reveals a basically good kid in a nearly adult body who was simply imagining a scene from a comic book he wants to draw. There is no purposeful intent to harm in his being. He is, it appears, a victim of the T-Gen bombs… and one who was probably mentally challenged before he ever encountered the life changing mist. (Poor guy.)

But, that still leaves a mess under which some people have been trapped and need to be freed. So, even if the heroes on the street find some relief from the constant attacks… there's some clean up to be done. Thus, Di simply settles down on the ground and starts aiding in the recovery.


Captain Marvel helps with clean-up and recovery as well. But once she's done, she'll be hunting down a drunk - or hung over - Iron Man, and trying her best to get Tony to an AA meeting. She should know, after all.

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