Nico doesn't usually do the whole crime fighting thing, but a ghost had been pestering him all night about finding the mugger who killed him. (It's the standard ghost complaint.) So here Nico is anyway, long after dark, skulking around by the Brooklyn bridge while dressed in old Ancient Greek style black armor, with a helmet designed like a skull and a sword strapped to his side.
It would be ridiculous, but it seems like the City's citizens have gotten a bit desensitized towards imPort shenanigans, because no one has even bothered to interrupt his search for... anything suspicious, really. (He's not great at this yet.)
When he spots Frank he creeps closer, because what's not suspicious about a guy that big?
Frank kept walking, but something at the back of his neck was bothering him. That vague feeling he was being watched. It was a feeling that had been honed by years in Vietnam and he'd learned to pay attention to it. That was why he quickly turns down an alley, fading into the shadows once he's out of sight. It might be nothing, but he wants to be sure.
She's been doing almost nothing but hunt the past week. Hunting and laying low. Waiting. Watching. And killing. She's slow about this, methodical in that cat and mouse way of hers. The fact that people have gotten hurt or killed because she dared reveal herself to the insane clown... Well, she can recognize it for what it is. Unnecessarily spilled blood
( ... )
Rife was the right word. Petty thugs, scum that fed on good people. They were always out of control, but they were out in force tonight especially the pimps. Christ, he hated the pimps. They were slavers, that was all. Trading human lives like stock brokers on Wall Street. They put him in a bad mood. That was why he was on this particular street tonight.
It didn't take him long to find a suitable target. Some lowlife beating one of the girls cause she didn't make him enough money. Before the creep had a chance to pull back for another punch, Frank had crossed the street, grabbed his arm, and slammed his fist into the pimp's gut. Without a word he dragged the now limp man past the woman and into a nearby alley. Frank planned to make an example out of him and none of the girls needed to see that.
She was late, which she hated and wouldn't have admitted for a moment, even if she could talk. But it did treat her to an interesting scene. Big man in a long coat planting his fist into the stomach of a pimp. Something like a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she dropped down from her perch.
The girl seemed frozen, uncertain of what to do, jumping when Miho lands soundlessly beside her. The two women regarded each other briefly before the working girl lifted her hand and pointed in the direction the two men had gone. If she were the kind, Miho would have laughed with sheer delight. Instead, the little blue flowers danced even more gaily around her head as she slipped down the alley after the big man.
The big man was busy slamming his big fists into the pimps face over and over. Anyone watching couldn't be blamed if they thought Frank was trying to kill him, but for once Frank wasn't. He would have liked to, but he had plans for this creep. Another punch slammed the pimp to ground and Frank reached down to grab him by the hair and pull him back to his feet. "You I want gone, along with all your scum friends. These streets don't belong to you
( ... )
Comments 6
It would be ridiculous, but it seems like the City's citizens have gotten a bit desensitized towards imPort shenanigans, because no one has even bothered to interrupt his search for... anything suspicious, really. (He's not great at this yet.)
When he spots Frank he creeps closer, because what's not suspicious about a guy that big?
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It didn't take him long to find a suitable target. Some lowlife beating one of the girls cause she didn't make him enough money. Before the creep had a chance to pull back for another punch, Frank had crossed the street, grabbed his arm, and slammed his fist into the pimp's gut. Without a word he dragged the now limp man past the woman and into a nearby alley. Frank planned to make an example out of him and none of the girls needed to see that.
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The girl seemed frozen, uncertain of what to do, jumping when Miho lands soundlessly beside her. The two women regarded each other briefly before the working girl lifted her hand and pointed in the direction the two men had gone. If she were the kind, Miho would have laughed with sheer delight. Instead, the little blue flowers danced even more gaily around her head as she slipped down the alley after the big man.
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