Normally it’s a tough town, but now it’s REALLY tough. Armed robberies in broad daylight. Even the cops are afraid to come out at night. The screams and the gunshots never stop...

The boy ran, and ran fast. However, those chasing him had far longer legs. Tommy had a good night of wallet snatching, but the people chasing him where not the cops. The Delancy street gang had been cracking down hard on what they called 'independent operators'. That was, anyone working in their territory who did not pay a 'tax' to them. It had gotten far worse in the recent days, as Fisk had squeezed all the people under his control.

Tommy seemed to have made a wrong turn to the right, and sure enough ended up in a dead end. He turned and saw full grown men with pipes, knives, and brass knuckles menacing him. "So...what did we tell you, Tommy?" One of them sneered. "We tolds you-pay your tax, you get to operate. Its not too bad, and its fair. Nice and fair for us allowing you to work our street. Now maybe it my fault for letting you slide before." He shrugged, and his men nodded. "Cause you are a little kid, I thought 'eh, give him a break. Tommy's got it rough, he's too small to do a real man's work. He's got a talent-and he need to keep in practice." The other men nodded, and let their smiles contained no warmth.

The speaker stopped smiling. "Its a rough time, Tommy. The man upstairs is putting the squeeze on everybody. He wants info, info you may have. You know those two freaks, right? They take care of you and your no-good sister? They got some sorta...secret place for you orphan brats? I tell you what...you tell me everything you know about them, I let you have tonight's big score! That's sounds like a very good deal to me, don't it boys?" He looked about at his men, who nodded in agreement. "You tell me where the secret place is, we call it even!"

Tommy was shaking in fear, and he sniffed back tears and his runny nose. Still, he stood up straight, and narrowed his eyes. "They are not freaks! They are Mr Shadow and Miss Light!  And I did not run here by accident!"


The men all stared at him, and suddenly they noticed something. It had gotten very, very dark in this ally. Despite the fact the light from the street should have lit it up better than this. Especially with a clear moon out.

"Bad move following Tommy." Came a deep voice from seemingly everywhere in the shadows.

The men looked about, and one of them moved to raise a pistol at Tommy's chest. He was the first to fall into shadow, like the street had a hidden trapped door under him. Then other men started to scream, as they all quickly where devoured by the void.

Tandy came forth, glowing with light as she took Tommy's hand. "Let's get you home, Tommy." She said to him, and he smiled up at her. They both walked into the shadow, and soon the ally was lit by streetlight once more. Any evidence of anyone being there removed by shadow.

"Sir, one of the crews out of the Garment District that we hired to shake down the homeless there has gone missing."

"Excellent. And what did we learn from the incident gentlemen?"

"Chatter in the early morning indicated that a 'Mr Shadow and Miss Light' were responsible. A very uplifting tale as I hear it. The local population is feeling quite safe."

"The pair do love trying to protect the poor little wretches, don't they?"

"Yes, they do. Next steps, sir?"

"Continue to gather data, nothing more. There is an opportunity here. On one hand they seem to prioritize the protection of homeless children, marking their actions as unusually maternal. But they don't simply defend those children. The crews that run up against them just vanish. That's the kind of ruthlessness I can appreciate. Best case scenario we kill the woman, frame one of our enemies and recruit the man. Worst case scenario we simply drive them apart. They are oil and water and it's a testament that they can even tolerate each other's presence let alone work together. They already sit upon the precipice. We must simple choose the correct time to push."

The power vacuum seemed to bring out the worst in the other criminals while it brought out the best in the masks, or most of them at least. Spider-Man was not one of them and appeared to be following suit from the gangsters he was taking care of. Before there were deaths whenever he put on the mask but some of the men survived. Sure some probably wished they were dead instead of ending up paralyzed for the rest of their lives but the mortality rate for the vigilante’s work was never one hundred percent. Except now that was the case.

It started with him just simply taking care of his foes like he always did, but then he started to get more… Creative. He sent a message to the other thugs, pieces of their friends would be webbed inside their hideouts as a grim warning of what would happen if they decided to continue with their illicit activities. Stranger still was how none of his victims were done in by a bullet or other weapon. No, each poor bastard was torn by his hands or webbing and needless to say none of them had open casket funerals. Well, at least some could as not all the bodies were always found.

Of course there was a reason for this level of barbarism but no one was the wiser and far be it from Peter to seek help for his affliction. Not that it mattered, the results were better than he could hope for and thanks to the gangs having an all-out war he had something to take his mind off of everything, a proper target to vent his anger at. Well that was the case until that ever persistent sense of his let him know one night he was being watched then followed.

It did not take long for him to lose the man but he followed the sap back home. It must have been a very unsettling experience for the man to wake up completely encased in webbing save for his head and suspended upside down from a skyscraper. From there it was not difficult to get the thug to sing like a canary and all it cost him was a few broken ribs. Peter learned who sent this creep to follow him and the name was enough for him to get an inkling as to what was going on. Of course with him knowing this information he could not leave the criminal alive but the man was disposed of without the body being found. Hopefully that would be enough to dissuade anyone else from trying to tail him. If not then he would have to be more imaginative for the next one.

He was perched high on a ledge, his eyes scanning down below for any sign of trouble before he sneered and webbed away. There was no telling where the next bit of trouble would start brewing but he was going to make sure to be there when it did. If these crooks wanted this level of chaos then he was more than ready to respond in kind. Granted he had a name but there was also the question of what he would do with such information.

Tommy, Tandy, and Tyrone appear in the abandoned subway station from one of the dark patches. They had to give up the orphanage at the Holy Ghost Cathedral. The place might become a target for whatever the gangs around the city where doing if they even got a wiff of Tandy and Ty's presence.

Besides, this subway station was better. Someone the size of a child could sneak in and out of the place, but a full grown adult be stuck without Ty's cloak. Not to mention the place had been abandoned from 1900, and may not even be on the records books anymore. The kids could use Ty and Tandy to get to and from the place, or just use the small opening in the sealed off areas. Secret and inaccessible was very useful.

The place needed some serious clean up, which everybody spent quite a while doing. The cloak and dagger made that much easier, as they where tools as much as they where weapons. Within a week, the place was clean, had beds, and was sealed against the cold. Light was often provided by Tandy, but there was a place for a fire near one of the air vents so the smoke would drain out safely. They even used the abandoned train cars for rooms for the kids.

At one point, when Ty and Tandy put the younger kids to bed, Tandy pulled Ty aside. "It's getting so bad out there! Granted this place is great, but I think the kids miss the orphanage sometimes. At least there where nuns to see to their needs."

Ty frowned. "Don't make that place out to be more than it was. Granted some people there where good, but I was hearing other stories from kids about orphanages. I won't repeat them-but you know what some of them do to poor kids." The anger in his voice was clear. "This place is better. The gangs don't know about it, and could not even get here without one of these." He gestured to the cloak.

Tandy nodded, troubled by Ty's words. Mostly because they where true. Ty's cynical view of authorities and institutions where always the same. Built from years of mistreatment from both those in charge and those American justice ignored. "Things will get better..." She said, stroking his now solid arm from inside the cloak.

"Seem like everybody who says that ends up being disappointed." He said, looking down at the ground. He looked into her eyes. "Things only get better when you meet force with greater force. That's the only language those assholes will ever understand." He looks above, as if those people he spoke of where just on the streets now. In a sense, they where.

"No one should have to live that way..." She said, sitting on his lap and laying her head on his now solid shoulder.

"Never known any other way." Ty said, grumpy. However, he held her and adjusted his floating stance so she would be comfortable. Still, his anger and bitterness melted away as she snuggled into his arms. No matter how dark his world was, she could always provide a light.

The disappearance of the Kingpin had made the criminal element bolder, everyone trying to get a bigger piece of the pie. Bushman was no different, but he'd also become cautious. He knew there was someone after him, had heard from his men the rumors of the man in the grey cloak. The man who seemed to come and go like the wind, many of his men were convinced it was a ghost, and in a way they were right.

Marc crouched on a rooftop frustrated with the lack of progress in finding his old boss. Khonsu whispered in his ear "This is about more than personal vengeance, if you cannot find your former employer, your murderer then this city has plenty of other wicked men to punish."

"Let's find some  kind of action, tired of just sitting here waiting for something to happen." Jake added in his gruff voice

"Don't forget about the girl, saving her is just as important as stopping Bushman. And she's not the only innocent in danger, lets not forget the other half of our mission." Steven added in his cultured speech.

Marc pulled up his hood. "Then let's get to work." He stood running across the rooftops his muscles tensed as he leapt from roof to roof. He stopped as he heard a cry from below.

He peered over the roof seeing two thugs accosting a woman, one holding her against the walll of an alley while the other rifled through the contents of her purse. Without hesitation Marc leapt off the roof, both legs together as he collided with the thug holding the purse, who crumpled under the Marc's weight.

The other one turned a look of shock and surprise on his face, The Moon Knight's fist was moving before the man could even process what he was seeing colliding with the man's face and breaking his nose. Moon Knight quickly tied the men while they were both stunned and handed the woman her purse, who simply stood there in shock. He handed her purse back with a nod then produced a grappling hook and line from under his cloak, He threw it up at the nearest rooftop and once it found purchase quickly scrabbled up the wall and out of sight.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:31, Sun 21 Apr 2019.

The man in the fancy suit surveyed the offering that was given to him. In truth the shop was a maddening kaleidoscope of scents, something that affected a synaesthete like Logan quite strongly. For him every sound had a taste, every scent had an intricate, multi-layered colour and texture.

He was many things but a thief was not one of them. He counted out several bills as his captive informant sat in a pool of his own urine. "Je veux que vous avertissiez votre client. Dis-lui qu'un homme avec des griffes le chasse. Décrivez-moi avec autant de détails que vous pouvez gérer." Logan wanted his prey to know that he was coming. He calmly carved the brass and pewter till with his claws, wanting the man to have a good view. "Si je dois revenir, je prendrai des cuisses de grenouille pour le petit-déjeuner."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:51, Sun 21 Apr 2019.