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The district headquarters of the NYPD is tonight's setting. The city that never sleeps has a police force that seemingly never sleeps, and is only marginally less busy than it is in the bright of day. Clerks and secretaries are busily typing away at memos and casefiles, and detectives shuffle between offices with cups of coffee. Uniforms shuffle about escorting prisoners and the like for various reasons.
Tonight isn't particularly special where most are concerned. For the police, it's just another night on the job. For one young girl in the back, it's an unpleasant moving day. The teenage Cassandra is cuffed, but nevertheless the police guarding her are mindful not to get too close. She is secure presently in an interrogation room where she sits placidly staring at a wall.
Up front, the waiting lobby is relatively quiet. This is one respite the police generally have, that there aren't as many people bothering them with tedious requests for this and that. Outside is a similar story along the sidewalk where there is merely the usual traffic, mobile and otherwise. Aside from the heroes, its a remarkably quiet night in fact. There are a few individuals in the lobby, but that is all.
*
Deep within the catacombs of police interrogation rooms, one way glass, and cheap coffee vending machines, Matt Murdock is accompanying a client to his questioning with the police. There's been a deal cut, here, and he's advised his client to tell the full and whole truth (so help him, God) in order to bag a bigger fish. Joey Bag O' Donuts isn't a bad guy. He's an okay guy who has done some real bad things. But, in turning over himself to the police he stands to do some good for the world.
Matt waits patiently as Joey goes over pertinent information for the police's case against his employer. Behind his dark glasses he closes his eyes, focusing on the sound of breathing, of the hum of the vending machine, of the clicks and clacks of shoes down the hallway, and of the perfume of the Assistant District Attorney. His work here is mostly done.
*
Lucian arrives from RP Nexus.
*
Lucian has arrived.
*
High above, perched at the edge of a building, there is a dark figure who watches below. Why? Why not. Spawn does not know there will be trouble here, but sin is in the air and it draws him, though he doesn't truly know what will come. He's a big man: nearly seven feet and all muscle, but he wears a suit of black with viscious white lines, and draped around him is a deep red cape. That cape is oddly still presently: usually it moves with the wind, even imaginary wind, but it is something of its masters mood that it is still. Around his waist is a belt of chains. For the moment, the hellspawn simply watches with glowing green eyes.
*
A city always has laws. Laws always generate paperwork. Paperwork belongs in part to the precinct. These are natural cares, part of business and good citizenship for a man running a club with a liquor license and occasional discussions with the police. A tall, blond man, Lucian approaches this sort of issue with something akin to patience. Not the eternal calm of a Buddha-like figure. He approaches things with an entirely different air. One minute or one hundred isn't so different. Besides. One of those nice clerks has supplied him with a good cup of coffee that refills itself. Not from the cruddy pot either, but the one that has the real flavourful stuff. Nice move on their part.
"A little longer," is the message from said clerk. Paperwork. Laws. They aren't fast things, to be sure.
*
Not everyone can simply know that things are going to get worse or how, but it pays to have some sort of expectation in a general sense when you're in this line of work. For Batgirl? The night was one of many, a patrol and a chance to protect those she could. But more than that, it was a chance to feel 'free' as she lept from one rooftop to the next, a twist of her body in that moment of freefall before she cast her grapnel line outwards, catching herself and slinging her form into a swing that ends with her crouched on a nearby rooftop.
So far? The night was peaceful. A good start.
*
The lean and preternaturally tough teenager known only as Cassandra is awaiting transfer to a psychiatric hospital for examination. It isn't everyday that the police bring in a violent youth who can apparently only say a singular name, after all. As she sits, she barely even breathes as she meditates on the wall. To the observing guards, she's possibly more of a mannequin than a girl.
Elsewhere in the precint, things take a turn for the curious. Those in tune with the astral or psychic will notice a subtle shift. Matt may detect the soft slip of lightly padded feet through odd places overhead, but this is a mercy compared to those who are sensitive to the eldritch.
The sensation may range from the hairs on the back of your neck raising to icicles tracing down your spine depending on sensitivity. A psychic might catch a devil's laugh on the wind. Whatever the case, things aren't going to be quiet much longer. One of the patiently waiting individuals in the lobby is the first to respond to the dark signal to commence. Dropping from the chair he was seated in to all fours on the floor, he clenches his teeth in sudden pain as blisters and scarlet flush across his form. This is a prequel to smoke wafting from his form as the man spontaneously combusts with a heat like a phosphorous grenade to ignite chairs and sear everything else that doesn't catch. Another scream elsewhere in the precint heralds the fact that wasn't the only one. The precint is under assault, and the fire alarms are awhirr!
Matt's senses give him the heads up of what's next, as figures in black and crimson bearing katanas and wakazashis drop through the ceiling hissing like pit vipers as they size up their resistance!
*
Murdock is busy walking with his client, led away in chains by the guards. Once it becomes clear that the precinct is under attack, the young lawyer gives his client a shove. "Go with them!"
"But what about you?" Joey Bag o' Donuts was a pretty good guy who did a lot of bad things. He was always really worried about Matt and his blindness.
"I'll be fine. Go!"
Matt slips away into a darkened corridor and disappears into a janitor's utility closet, going through practiced motions to unleash his own version of the devil. He knows who comes.
*
High above, the hellspawn steps off the roof, and as the deep red of his cape flairs out from his back, it spreads out, almost seeming to fight the very sky— and win. Spawn's descent slows until he lands, and by the time he is there, the cape moves about him as if alive. It has a flexible relationship with gravity, it seems. He approaches the police station, and as he does there is a flare of his green eyes: and his suit seems to melt away, leaving a giant of a black man (for a very short time appearing unscarred) in a sweatsuit. He's not going to make it into the police station with his normal appearance. There's soon going to be chaos to join within when the disguise can be dropped, but for now Spawn is 'Al'. He doesn't immediately react to the… growing crisis, instead watching.
*
A devil laughs.
Lucian downs the last of his coffee. A thin puddle of aromatic liquid lies at the bottom of the mug cupped in long fingers. His eyes move unhurriedly among the other occupants of the lobby, traveling dispassionately from one to the next. He knows the taste of trouble building in the atmosphere like a storm, the proverbial hit of petrichor and greenish tint a giveaway. Tugging his fine coat tighter around him, he leans against the wall. Vibrations travel along the floor when the man drops to all fours.
The Devil narrows his eyes. Flames that merrily chew up those uncomfortable chairs are serving the public good. He regards the billowing sheet encroaching too close with a detached nature, tipping his head a fraction of a degree. Only that. Lips curl contemptuously.
Intense that heat may be, but it starts to leach away almost instantly. "«Amateurs»," he murmurs in a language dead before Babel was built.
*
Barbara has no supernatural senses, only the warnings of the fire alarms blaring and the scream captured on the breeze. A frown, the masked heroine flicks a switch on her belt, a small signal sent back to her mentor, but there was no time to wait. For now? She was moving in. Pulling a small rebreather to fix over the otherwise exposed bottom half of her face, Batgirl swoops down to the rooftop of the building and begins to move in.
*
Lucian's powers clear the way for eventual reinforcements, unraveling the first piece of a plan by the attackers through sheer convenient luck. Elsewhere in the precint however, another fire still needs tending by the looks of cops with extinguishers and an unraveling hose on its way to a scene that they will find themselves at a loss to contend with. This fire proves apathetic to their best efforts and burns much too hot for simple extinguishers to come in range of.
The ninjas within the precint move like disembodied shadows, the first crew conveniently near Daredevil's location per his amazing echolocative hearing. They dispatch officers as they come across them with a brutal efficiency, cutting throats when they can or otherwise simply running through the ill prepared New York's finest so as to deny the chance for an organized counteroffensive. The fires have proven an effective distraction from their purpose, whatever it may be.
From where Batgirl lands, she can tell that the second fire is near the police restricted parking area exit. At least two exits were intended to be cut off by the invaders. Whether to prevent escape, rescue, or both is another issue entirely.
*
Daredevil, now fully clad in his red suit, is tearing down the hallway towards the oncoming ninjas. As he approaches, he lets loose his billy club which begins to ping and pong off the walls of the tight quarters. The throw is high, towards head level, and so as he approaches he goes low, attempting to sweep the leg from one attacker and drive his foot up into the groin of the next.
*
It is a time of revealing, apparently. Having gotten inside without anyone freaking out, the would-be general of the hellspawn cares no longer for secrecy and being covert. Worst case scenario, a cop decides to shoot him. Spawn's face melts like wax in moments, revealing his true, hideous form; but black with wicked white marks rises up over his neck and covers his face in moments. The black sweatsuit tightens into his suit, and the high-collared red cape seems to emerge from his body and hang down loosely around him. As he stalks forward, the cape seems to grow and spread out, seething along the ground as if spreading the taint of damnation upon the earth. But the cape is not alone: the sound of metal upon metal comes, as two chains rise up from his waist and slither through the air like vile snakes looking for something to strike. They twist in the air around him, seeming strangely alive and alert, and also protective. There is menace in his every step.
*
Tasty, wicked fire does nothing but sublimate into Lucian. He isn't obvious about it. A mystic, of course, will detect a whole different process than the average Joe watching him pull his collar up as a pragmatic choice. The coffee mug comes along for the ride 'cause you just don't leave mugs where insane bandits in their jammies are prowling. He neatly heads down the hallway and not much sound comes from those jaunty shoes. Deeper in the precinct ought to be more offices, a safe, questionable criminals in lockup. Let the devil of Hell's Kitchen cleave a way through any opposition. Let the Hellspawn frighten any remaining forces. The Morningstar is on a mission to see what's happening and making such a cacophony. To save the coffeepot. To give someone a firm scolding about copyright infringement. What is plain, he has no outward show of fear even if a ninja points a sword at him.
*
A blockade for the hostages or would-be rescuers? Those need to be delt with and fast. Whomever had mounted this attack had planed this well to turn the place into their homeground, time to reverse that. Her gloved hands reach into her belt, pulling two small metal devices and throwing them towards the flames. A burst of chemical flame retardent intending to remove the obstacles for the hostages to escape. That was half the job, now for the rest.
Batgirl wasn't some sort of mystical ninja or killer assassin, but she was trained by one of the best. Barbara herself was nothing if not a brilliant learner. With a breath made vaguely electronic thanks to her mask, she steps further into the station.
*
Shots begin ringing out as the first of the police begin to realize what is going on in time to try doing something about it. Whether he got his mark is perhaps unimportant, but it isn't long before more gunfire begins ringing out in the precint. Given that the gunfire is coming from somewhere the Devil of Hell's Kitchen isn't, there are other ninjas up to no good.
Daredevil shatters the sword of a ninja who just manages to parry the hurled club, unfortunately for the ninja shatter is the right word. Metal shavings from his katana go wild, with some going right into his face thus removing him from the fight as he clutches at his unfortunate eyes. Irony. The other doubles over as he wasn't expecting a two pronged attack from one man! This particular kill crew has five however, so the other three are responding with two facing and the third maneuvering to flank. The two facing him go high, katanas singing through the air to hack at the crimson vigilante.
A man like Lucian boldly strolling through the scene of a massacre in progress won't go unnoticed by its perpetrators for long. He doesn't got a sword pointed at him, instead a pair of low hisses will herald the flight of shurikens in his direction by two ninjas who happen to have swords ready to point. The men leap on top of desks, gaining a vantage point as they ready another flight of throwing stars lest the first fail to do the trick.
Spawn will be met similarly. Apparently there are scattered kill teams, the better to prevent talking witnesses. Much like with Lucian, a fell serpentine hiss will be the only warning before silvery streaks flash with accuracy at the Hellspawn. This pair have opted for cover to attack from, having swords ready in one hand around either corner at the end of a hallway from the giant and another throwing blade prepared in the other as they observe the results of their opening strike.
Batgirl's canny preparedness, coupled with Lucian's infernal presence, do the trick of resolving the fires. Unfortunately for Batgirl, a chemical grenade is less subtle than a mystical aura and draws eyes to the redheaded investigator. A sinister Japanese voice intones at her in time with the metallic sound of a duo of swords. She gets a sort of introduction, a less pointed one at that.
*
Daredevil knows he must act swiftly to avoid becoming mincemeat. In a move that might make limbo experts and gymnasts jealous, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen leaps into the air and peforms an awkward looking but perfectly timed twist to barely avoid the katanas as the slice and dice through the air. His gloved hand reaches down to pick up his earlier flung billy club as he defensively looks to avoid their next slice.
*
As the shuriken rush towards him, Spawn doesn't pay them any mind: he doesn't really even need to. He knows Leesha— his suit— can defend itself and him against simple attacks, and anything thrown is slow enough. The high red collar moves of its own volition, elongating as each pointy end of the collar strikes out to deflect each of the flying stars: they should cut right through the fabric, by all logic. Logic does not, however, apply to sentient garments made in hell. What looks like cloth is metal-hard, and with a clang the stars are sent off against the walls. One of the chains looms up, almost looking like it wants to hiss, but it does not strike. Instead, from beneath the cape rises both of Spawn's hands, bearing in each a semi-automatic pistol as he takes aim and begins immediately shooting at at where those stars came from.
*
Unarmed except for his coffee - drained - and the swagger of confidence, Lucian isn't rushing into harm's way just yet. He gets a warning for the whine of metal flung at him. Fire absorbed into himself has rather pleasant dividends. He swings sideways quickly enough to worry about one battery swinging past, and for the other a pointed look sends out a shearing wave of telekinetic force to lob those into the wall. At least two go right back where they came from, flung haphazardly with a callous flip. It won't do anything for the paint job or the plaster work. The cup stays firmly in hand. They might not be impressed by this, but the duo might want to reconsider the measured, cold look in the man's eyes. Nothing whatsoever about that reads as comforting or human. The deadly boredom in his voice isn't a show, either, but the tone of a creature living on a totally different moral spectrum. "Ceasing immediately might allow you another day to live. Take it under advisement."
*
A narrowing of her eyes behind her mask, Batgirl nods her head and retrieves from her belt several of her own throwing weapons. "You're murderers and cowards," the caped woman says in her distorted tones. "Surrender." She might not quite carry the same menace that her mentor has mastered, but she still carries a seriousness in her words before she casts her arm in a sweeping throw at the source of the voice. Whomever these killers were? They were skilled in their craft, but at least they were easily identifiable compared to the innocents and cops. She'd worry about -what- they said later. For now? It seemed she was in for a fight.
*
Cassandra's gaze has shifted from the wall to the two way mirror, likely following the ruckus. The guards have assumed defensive positions with pistols at the ready, wary at the sound of gunfire and the buzzing of the fire alarm. The radios are a cacophony that have them on edge as the chatter is suggestive of war, which for them it is at the moment but they sound like they have made some accomplishments. Reinforcements are on their way from the neighboring precint to help sort things out.
Lucian's counterattack would be wholly unexpected, leaving the two ninjas blinking behind their masks as they glance at each other. Options weighed, they figure out they are outclassed and beat feet without further ado. Hellfire powered telekinesis trumps ninja flair.
Spawn's attackers are less reluctant. As gunfire tears up their cover, they'll remain patiently ensconced before opting for a charge with swords at the ready and smoke grenades hurled. One appears to be readying to go high while the other low before smoke erupts with dull pops about the hellspawn.
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen meanwhile has thus far bested his combatants as their weapons fail to find purchase on anything but air. It's at this time that that one moving to flank him moves in for the strike while the duo before him regroup! A blade thrusts at him from behind before slashing horizontally whether it slides home or not. One of the ninjas says something in Japanese, and the lead duo will attempt a tactical withdraw while the third remains squared off.
Batgirl's situation will deteriorate fast with her response. The blades in the dark reveal themselves with one leaping forth from around a corner to square off, then a second from right behind him that moves in to engage in earnest with a vicious crescent kick at her masked jaw for a greeting.
*
As smoke grenades fall around him and it rises, the hellspawn holsters his pistols and moves: he deftly sidesteps the blade that went for his neck, even as a chain rises up to seek to wrap around the blade. Spawn leans in and exposes himself to the lower blade, though, and soon it slides into his gut: the blood that leaks forward is black, and he grunts in pain. But with a speed that most humans can't match a hand strikes out — not to hit the foe, but to aim, for a fire of pure, bright green erupts in his hand and a ball of pure necroplasm flies out towards his foe. If it strikes, there is likely to be very little left to bury.
*
Lucian waits a moment for the ninjas to flee. Shrugging, he proceeds on right to the point when he is bound to run into someone else defending the precinct against the invasion of nasty warriors in their dyed sheets and jammies. Anything flaming he simply snatches the energy force out of, pulling it into himself. Swaying chains and dangerous matters with the hellspawn do get more than one look. A pause, then. "Oh, very nice." Commentary on the green gel plasma flung at an unfortunate body is almost clinical. It does not come with a smile. Smoke is inconvenient for identifying who speaks, but the blond man doesn't push past the animated chains entirely. "Advance and I will stop any projectiles."
*
Daredevil leaps in a backflip up and over the katana as it slides underneath him. Even before he hits the floor his body is moving cock the arm back. As his toes touch he flips his hips and delivers a punishing knifehand towards the throat of the third ninja!
*
Barbara has partially disconnected.
*
Barbara has partially disconnected.
*
Batgirl has no idea of the other battles going on in the station, all she knows is the two attackers coming her way. She had to get through them, and fast. As the leg comes swingining for her jaw Barbara twists, throwing up her cape and casting the weighted end into the face of the kicker before she carries through in the motion and brings her heel towards the Ninja's kneecap. Left turned to face the other foe, she brings her arms up to catch the swinging blade between the armored 'fins' of her suit's gloves and jerk the weapon sideways before leaping forwards, intending to bring her knee up into the suprised man's jaw. This strangely enough wasn't the first time she'd faced someone this well trained, but that didn't make them less dangerous. Fortunately Batgirl had plenty of tools and tricks to fall back on and even the odds along with her training.
*
Daredevil has partially disconnected.
*
Spawn has partially disconnected.
*
The fighter squared off against Daredevil is midswing when his throat is suddenly struck. He coughs and stumbles back, clutching at it but effectively unable to do much else at the moment. Meanwhile, the other two ninjas are well on their way to Cassandra's holding area.
One of the ninjas applies a freezing compound to the door, the handle frosting over for the upcoming kick to shatter whereupon the lead ninja will enter with his sword at the ready to neatly slice through the pistol of the first cop and follow through with a thrust at the second that finds its mark in his heart. The breaching ninja will finish off the startled officer whose gun had been disabled.
Cassandra knows something is wrong, likely able to hear it. She remains seated however. Nothing she can do just yet…
Lucian and Spawn are quite the duo as Spawn effectively disintegrates his adversaries. The duo will find little resistance further in able to stand up to their cosmic prowess.
Batgirl's capabilities are up to the task as the two ninjas engage her blade and foot. The cape to the face is unexpected, stunning the first as the second move in to try and exploit an opening with a thrust of his blade only to have it captured by her fins! This leaves him with the option to go low with a hard shin against her knee as he attempts to wrench his weapon free.
*
Spawn has access to power, but it is limited: there's not so often that he can fling pure, raw hellfire before he uses up his reserves and finds himself back in hell, and since he intentionally missed his last appointment with Malebolgia's lieutenants, he has absolutely no desire to show up for the Lord of the 8th Circle of Hell and have to answer questions. So he tugs the blade from his gut, grunts as the suit closes over the wound, and with stolen katana in hand, he marches forward. Its not his usual weapon, but the way he holds it, it looks like he knows his way around blades. Circling around him the chains remain poised, ready to seek out and crush something in the loving embrace of a hell symbiote.
*
Batgirl is moving fast, striking hard and just generally trying to stay ahead of the Ninjas. They were striking to kill, she was striking to wound and incapacitate, but her gear gave her the edge as she blocks and strikes in a flurry of movements before slinging another one of her batarangs towards an attacker, sinking the sharp edge into his shoulder and sword-arm. He'll live, but man that must smart! Lashing out with a gutshot at the next, she leaps high in a suprising display of gymnastic ability before bringing her feet together and driving them both to land on the head of the other attacker. Just how many more of these guys were deeper in attacking the officers? She had no idea…and she still had to work out what 'weapon' they were talking about before they tried to slice her into bite-sized bat chunks.
*
The two ninjas enter the interrogation room where Cassandra is being kept, and are not welcomed in friendly fashion. Before a word can be said, she's on them from across the table with fingers bared in tiger fashion in spite of her cuffs. She uses the cuffs to disable the sword of the lead ninja, crossing her wrists to wrap the chain about its blade at the base as her fingers latch to his uniform and dig into the skin beneath while charging him back out the door and through his partner. Once she's out, she'll wrench at his blade and drag the chain along it to sunder her restraints and perhaps disarm the man! That done, she strikes up a more formal stance while twisting chain once more in the midst of a tiger tension…before snapping it with a sharp exhalation as her adversaries square off!
Spawn finds an easy go of his path into the heart of the facility as few can stand up to the might Leesha grants him. The ninjas appear to be clearing out however as the police retake their station room by room. The heroes evidently gutted the assault with their timely presence.
Batgirl's skill is formidable, as appropriate for one trained by the likes of Batman and Nightwing. Most of the ninjas she encounters however, don't seem to be sticking around for the fight any longer. It seems she's on clean up duty all of a sudden as they beat a fighting retreat before her.
*
Spawn doesn't really insist on chasing down and killing them all, but as he walks through the halls, more then a few ninjas are left as… There is very little recognizable of them. Against a hellspawn, training is rarely going to alone leave someone having a good day. That doesn't make him invulnerable: he takes wounds, they simply heal, though a little slower each time. Still, though. As he nears a far wall, he corners the last ninja he will face this night. The chains are wrapped around his arms and body, and the ninja doesn't beg, doesn't break.
With glowing green eyes, the would-be general of Malebolgia's armies stares, and lifts a hand up to touch the man. As he has done before this night, it is only that touch, and he drinks in the sins of the evil man.
Spawn takes the sin into himself: it strengthens him, and redeems the sinner.
And the chains pull, and rip the ninja in half, sending body parts flying both ways. Stepping forward, Spawn's body darkens and becomes infused with a deep green light, and he steps right through the wall and into the night.
*
Eventually when Barbara finds the rest of the bodies of the Ninjas, she's probably going to be freaked out more than a little bit. For the time being however? She's happy to leave the unconcious and retreating foes to the rallying Police. She has bigger problems in the form of innocent people caught in the crossfire. Turning her attention towards the sounds of scuffle, she moves to check on the situation deeper in the station itself before she's willing to depart.
*
Cassandra and the two ninjas square off, all three in similar posture with fingers bared in tiger fashion. Ninjutsu was originally primarily inspired by the tiger, after all. The disarmed ninja strikes first, and Cass avoids him like a ghost to counter him with a claw strike to his armpit followed closely by a second to his solar plexus. His partner was close behind with sword at the ready, but Cass intercepts his swing by catching the pommel before delivering a sharp elbow to his rib as a setup for a hip toss to the ground as she disarms him as well. A stomp to the side of his head finishes him while a meaningful point of the sword sends the other departing in kind.
With Spawn departed, the death toll's climb tapers off. Batgirl will arrive on the scene of Cassandra's victory over her wouldbe captors, or assassins. Perhaps in time to witness the quick scuffle as she ably handled them after breaking her restraints. She's of no mind to stick around, however, and is already looking for an exit. The police are more concerned with arresting ninjas and seeing to the wounded.