16959/Force Response

Force Response
Date of Scene:	19 January 2024
Location:	Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	A PMC is sent after Frank in Hell's Kitchen. Nico and Lara are there to help him, but once the attackers are dealt with, Frank goes unconscious from his wounds and is taken in by SHIELD before the police arrive.
Cast of Characters:	Frank Castle, Nico Minoru, Lara Croft

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Frank Castle has posed:
Someone is always watching. People are paid for it and Frank Castle has made the kind of enemies that have exceptionally deep pockets. Doesn't matter how long he stayed off the radar, all it would ever take is one slip up. One camera phone upload to tiktok of a man fitting his description beating the bloody hell out of someone in a diner... and the incident is reported.

That's the problem with the modern era, isn't it?

    Everyone has a camera.

And all of those cameras are instant gratification for the right kind of people to find exactly what they're looking for. Which is how we got here... Or, at the very least, how Frank did:

With a hand clutching his shoulder, stumble running through a brownstone apartment building with a fully geared task force scouting the floor above and below him. The door to an apartment opens and he holds out a blood covered hand in the old woman's direction, waving and shaking his head as he brings one bloody finger to his beard covered lips, then pointing back inside. She obliges.. moving back inside hurriedly as he continues towards the stairwell.

When one of the squad sent to hunt him comes up only a foot or so infront of him, turning to point the compact MP-15 with an under mounted flashlight right in his face. His hand snaps out, knocks it to the side and up, sending bullets spraying along the wall above their heads. Screams from the tenats adding fuel to an already tenuous situation as both Punisher and the man he's shoving tumble over the railing, falling several stories towards the floor below.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Now that she was a certified college student, it meant that Thursday nights were meant to go out for drinks or at least party as there were no classes on Friday! Huzzah for such schedules. So naturally, she spent time getting all cute to head to the Laughing Magician so she can check her latest match on Mystics Mingle.

But that would not happen this evening. Tonight is not the night. Instead, the sounds of gunfire at the apartment just a block or two away catches her attention, and she grumbles under her breath.

The outfit she spent tim on deciding is quickly changed with a simple gesture. Her clothes transform into a form fitting WAND uniform, and her right arm, once fleshy, reveals it's true form as the magical prosthetic in metallic black.

Purple energies flow over her body as she starts to levitate to wander on over in the direction of the action is to see what's going on.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara has reviewed the text messages from Castle about fifty times in the past hour. He'd convinced her to meet him here, for some reason, but had been dodgey on the details. They had done a job together in Siberia about 2 years ago, and both had garnered respect for the other's abilities both in survival, and in... guns. There was a mutual understanding, to some degree, and Frank had likely seen a side of a British noble woman that he would not have expected to, back then. Today? He needed a getaway driver,but he hadn't even told her that was the ultimate use he'd asked her here for. He just said 'Meet here.'

Here she sat. Inside of her black Jeep Wrangler, the engine on, the heat on, a gun tucked under a scarf on her lap. She was reading the messages again, the last three had been sent by her, to him. No responses.

When gunfire sounds out, Lara visibly jumps in her seat inside her Jeep. She turns her head to look, but sees nothing from her vantage point. "Shit..." Is all the adventurous Brit says before she grumbles angrily, and drops her phone in to the center console, as she moves to exit her vehicle... gun in a wadded up handful of dark grey scarf material.

Frank Castle has posed:
There's no amount of cushion that stops three floors of falling from hurting like a bitch. Frank twists the pair of them around enough that the man sucks up most of the impact, but it still hits like a kick to the gut. See, people's inclination when falling is to hold their breath, but that's counter productive. Forcing the air out gives you that sensation of choking because it's concussive force against inflated lungs. Instead, exhale just before impact... lungs are empty.

BANG.

It's still concussive force, but Frank is already slamming his elbow over and over into the side of the man's face until he's good and well certain he's not getting up anytime soon, then reaching for the MP-15 to hold tucked up against his side as he comes up to his feet to start down the hallway. Finger extended out across the trigger, shoulder against one wall with his body turned forward, more so when nearing a corner. Pivot around, gun first, out wide and low. If they're there, and they are, he'll see them first. And he does.

Controlled bursts.

Tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat.

    The sounds of screaming as he blows out their knees and tosses the MP-15 aside, empty mag, to bullrush the third right through the front doors. Even with a bullet wound, two actually, Frank is a very dangerous man. A strong man. Lifting up a man almost as big as him to use him like a battering ram through a metal door into the street, keep pushing. They tell linemen that: Keep your legs moving. Push until the man's back hits a car and sets off the alarm.

Keep pushing until Frank's grabbing the side of the man's head and smashing it through the passanger side window of a parked electric car. Pieces of glass find painful new homes in the man's baclava covered face and Frank is yanking the pistol from the utilitarian black holster on the spec-ops thigh. Held high, right up against his chest as he pivots back towards the door, trembling in the cold.

Bare chested and bleeding from a bullet wound in his shoulder, in boxer-shorts with a bullet wound in his thigh and bare foot. He has a beard, long shaggy hair, both of them are starting to gray.

Age or stress.

The rest of the fire team is coming down the stairs, following the sound of the ground floor gunfire moments ago.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Holy shiiiiiet.

That's the reaction to the scene before her as she floats above, just watching with the Staff of One now in hand. It makes her look more authoritative and menacing, so she goes with it.

Her gaze continues to flit back and forth, before she notices the different groups. There's the bare chested bleeding daddy in boxers, and then there's people that are after him with guns that are putting innocents in danger.

Deciding that SHIELD can handle whoever is at fault can handle things, she floats on down until she's just about ten feet above him. With a smile, she flashes her pearly whites.

"Your gothic godmother has arrived." Nico quips as she motions towards him and mutters the word: BUBBLEWRAP.

Unless she's done the spell before (up to Frank PC to decide), a protective forcefield should surround him keeping him relatively safe from the pursuers. Now, if she's done it before, then anything random can happen. Such are the rules of the Staff of One.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara is about half way down the street, and across it, when Frank comes barreling out of the building with another man in a close quarters scruff. She doesn't KNOW it is Frank, at first, until she begins to jog toward them, only to witness the brutality that she'd seen him perform before. She observes, and exhales a breath of puffy white steam from between her lips. "God." Lara quietly says, before she notes movement in the sky. Her eyes dart up, her gun gripped in her hand within her balled up scarf. She sees Nico, and overhears some of what she shouts down at the man in the boxers.

"Frank!" Lara calls out, her British voice likely recognizable even with just one spoken word. She starts toward him, moving with a mixture of haste, and caution, as she comes closer up behind him. "What is going on?" She has to ask, though the jist of it is rather clear, isn't it?

Another look is given to the floating girl, but hey... it's New York... this place is a god damn madhouse of powered people doing wild things, good and ill.

Frank Castle has posed:
The word spoken above him is what alerts Frank to someone hovering in the sky and his immediate reaction is the logical one: Point the pistol up at her.. but whatever she's doing doesn't seem to have hurt him and he recognizes the uniform, so he trains it back on the door quickly. "Best leave." He calls out to her, "Or get ready to fight." Because one's coming. Quickly.

Which is why he's half stumbling, half limping, around the otherside of the car for cover.

The smart thing to do would be to run. Frank is not smart, but more over, he doesn't know who sent them. Only way he's going to figure that out is to hurt them until one of them fills in the gaps of information. They wanted to poke the bear? Well they can consider him properly poked.

A blue eyed glance towards the sound of someone calling his name, recognition, "You're late." No venom. The gun is brought up, slide retracted with the palm of his hand, then reset when he sees the bullet in the chamber. Barrel pointed towards the door, held up close to his chest. Ready to extend it out and start firing.

"Strike team sent to hunt me. Don't know who sent them." They're down the hallway, he can just barely make them out in the flickering lights of the first floor apartments. "About to ask some very painful questions." Side glance, "Don't kill them until one of them answers."

Nico Minoru has posed:
Her brows raise a little as she looks towards the bare chested vagrant and just shakes her head. With a little gesture, she modifies the spell to at least provide some warmth so he won't be freezing his balls off... potentially literally with this cold front.

Taking in a long and deep breath, she squints once more and runs her fingers through her dark locks. Nico frowns as she looks at the residential area and simply nods as she starts to float higher, and motions the Staff of One towards the residential apartments.

"Tsumi no nai hito o mamoru." According to Google, that means PROTECT THE INNOCENT. That's definitely a spell she hasn't used with that phrasing of language, and so just as she wanted a forcefield around the Punisher (lest he be punished), a similar protective shield surrounds every living person that is 'innocent' and not involved in the coming fight.

Someone's gotta worry about the NPC mooks after all.

Lara Croft has posed:
"Short notice." Lara fires right back at Frank when he accuses her of being late. "I'm lucky I got here as fast as I did at all..." The Brit adds, as she looks Frank over, mostly because of the wounds. "You look like shit." She says toward him, moving up closer to cover his flank, as she overhears the spellcasting from above.

this garners her brown eyed gaze up toward Nico again. "I know you." She says. "How many SHIELD Agents does Frank have coming to his blood baths?" She dryly jests, as she glances toward the building, advancing further with the Punisher just ahead of her. "I have no plans on killing anyone..." But Lara knows how quickly plans change, and in fact... she unravels the scarf around her own handgun, draping it around her neck and shoulders quickly as they move onward. "How many are we dealing with, exactly?"

Frank Castle has posed:
"Was twelve." Frank doesn't bother addressing his current attire or physical condition, but he doesn't feel nearly as cold. Not that it seemed to be bothering him before, lord knows he's probably hopped up on enough adrenoline to raise the dead right now. "Two down in the hallway, him." Gun points towards the guy in the passanger side window bleeding into someone's seat, "Another one in my apartment." Up to the fourth floor.

"That leaves eight. Mixed munitions. Mostly smaller calliber submachine guns, old Russian stock. I heard one of them speaking Portuguese, figured it's Black Hand.. Black ops private military company out of Madipoor." Here they come. "Get ready."

Frank isn't going to let them fire first, "Magic lady, I hope you have some fireballs or something because these guys are fucking around." Neither is he. Despite his claims to not want to kill them, he sure isn't pulling his shots. One of the men goes down instantly with several shots center mass, pop pop, then another falls over when his knee all but explodes. Frank ducks behind the car to let it absorb the return volley.

"Six..." He tilts his head and peers under the car, "Seven and a half, really. He can still use his hands."

Return fire they do, half the remaining team ducks back inside to take up defensive positions using the front of the apartment. The other three fan out to try and circle the car, sending a spray of Submachine gun fire at the pair of Lara and Frank. They haven't noticed Nico flying above them, yet.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Nico was not made or written for a MAX title, alas. She was geared towards young adults and teenagers. Violence isn't exactly in her repertoire (except that one time where she had to kill people, but we don't talk about that).

Hearing the advice from the daddy vagrant, she offers a warm smile as she nods, listening to how many there are. Before, she can really process a plan in her head, people start to return fire. Those are ACTIVE BULLETS! Not the blanks she's used to training with. Seeing as she's not exactly a prime target for now, she begins floating in the direction of the strike teams and simply says, while holding the staff, "MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR." However that spell is interpreted will be hilariously left up to chance.

Lara Croft has posed:
The tactical professionalism that Frank conducts himself with is ever as impressive now, as it was two years ago. Well, except for being in his boxers. That part is a little less impressive than Lara remembers.

When he takes down two more, Lara sets her back to press to cover, her body going rigid as she clamps up at the gunshots. She's heard a lot of gunshots in her time as a world traveller, but the first few always get your muscles tightened. "If they're this organized, they might have street feelers outside still!" Lara shouts over to Frank, as she glances back toward the other WAND member, one of the actual magical users within SHIELD, they were a breed all their own and Lara sadly didn't have a lot of personal connections to most of them. she was a relic hunter, a different sub-division of WAND...

Lara evens her breathing, paces herself, and pops out of cover to snap off a few shots from her own handgun! She catches a man in his shoulder, his body armor likely keep him from serious harm, but it still drops him to the ground.

An incoming round hits Lara right across her left bicep! But the magical barrier that Nico had summoned, causes the bullet to glance off of Lara's leather jacket covered arm, and smash in to a bit of dry wall beside her!

Lara ducks back in to cover, shooting a look down to her arm, even feeling it with her free hand, sensing no damage. "I really need to learn how to cast spells..." She mutters as she prepares to pop out of cover again!

Frank Castle has posed:
A lot to unpack here.

Nico hovers up closer to the spec-ops team fanning out to do bodily harm to the duo of Frank & Lara, says some flowery shit, and one of them drops his gun without a moments hesitation to start rubbing his body like he's high as fuck on ecstasy in the middle of a rave. Gyrating and grinding a light post, he is combat ineffective, and while it might not be exactly what Frank had in mind when he told her to be ready... Even he has to admit it was successful.

So there's that.

"Magic." He mutter-grunts. Shrinking further down against the otherside of the car, with his body tucked sideways for maximum protection, when the bullets rain down upon their cover. Say what you want about fuel efficiency and global warming, that electric engine is as solid as a rock. Against small arms fire, which is what's being fired at them, anyways.

"Yeah, probably." Street feelers. "Surprised there's no snipers. I'd have set up snipers." They aren't him, though. A glance to his left at Lara when the bullet bounces off the invisible shield protecting her, cursory. Then he ducks out the front end side of the vehicle in a wide pivot that has his weapon up and trained, ready to fire off three quick shots. Few people are as skilled a marksman as Frank Castle, but this is life fire operations. One of the rounds hits the wall near a a gunman's head, the other two hit center mass. Definitely absorbed by the armor they're wearing, but anyone whose ever been shot in the vest will assure you that it still hurts like a mother fucker.

When he drops back into cover, it's under a barrage of bullets snapping and popping across the street. Glass exploding out the window above them from the driver side window. Which is going to play jolly havoc on his bare feet. "They're not wearing night optics." So he aims for the street lights across the street, three quick shots and the cover side of the car is bathed in darkness. While the building side is still illuminated in the orange glow.

"Cover me." Because he's creeping towards the driver side door, feet crunching in glass as he pulls it open and slides over towards the man hanging in the passanger seat. Tugging at the body until he's hanging inside up to his waist, far enough for him to grab some extra clips, and a grenade, from off his belt.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Having a sorceress around during these things is like having the Konami code. Effectively, the pair have been A+B started as bullets bounce off the invisible barrier surrounding them, and seemingly don't damage their surroundings either.

Now where was she again? Hell's Kitchen.

Nico's brows furrow, as she remembers reading something in the files about the goings on in this area. "You're sure none of these mooks are part of one of the Triads? I heard that one of the more powerful families was operating here. If one of theirs got hurt, it could make things worse for everyone around." she shouts, as she continues to float about, looking through various windows to see if she can get a better vantage point of how many others there might be or if there are any potential snipers.

It's not like a bullet will actually hit her at this point.

Which is exactly what happens when it turns out there /is/ a sniper, and instead of the main target, she gets a bullseye. It hits her in the back, but simply stops as if it hit something hard and falls down to the ground as a flattened armor piercing round.

Frowning a bit, she floats on over to where the sniper is and grabs the tip of the gun. With her other hand, she points the Staff of One towards the sniper's chest, and nosescrunches.

A wave of force comes from the tip of the staff, sending the man back until he hits a wall, and hopefully falls unconscious. She'd be nicer, but no one likes being shot at.

"There was one sniper!" she shouts for those down below.

Lara Croft has posed:
What is the extent of Nico's power? Lara didn't know.

But with Frank calling for cover fire, Lara steps out of her cover, and starts simply pacing forward with even and measured steps. She's right out in the open now, letting the powers of the Sorceress dictate her survival. Is she mad? Clinically, no. Clinically, she is a diagnosed adrenaline addict though, with doctor's orders to focus on relaxation instead, which she's kind of been ignoring for quite some time.

Instead, Frank will see Lara just advancing completely out in the open, with gunshots popping against her, and falling to the ground in little balls of wadded up lead. All while her own handgun is being emptied at one target after another. She pops the magazine out of the grip of the gun, replacing it with a smooth motion after having pulled another from her jacket, pulling the slide on her gun she resumes fire, tanking shots while Frank prepares himself!

Brave, or dumb. It's a blurry line sometimes.

Frank Castle has posed:
There was a sniper.

If Frank were cocky, he'd say something about I told you so, but that's not really his style. Not anymore. Instead he slides back out of the front seat as Lara advances towards the defensive position where the man he'd wounded earlier is struggling back to his feet, the one is still humping the light post, and a trio of gunmen inside using the sides of the front door for cover. His feet hit glass and crunch, which he'll definitely feel later, along with the two gunshot wounds he's already gotten before either of them showed up. "Right."

Magic.

The grenade is brought up, catching the pin between his teeth and yanking to pull it free. The slide pops off when he extends the three fingers that were holding it, and he hurls it into the open door of the apartment building with an over hand throw. Which, one might say, is a TERRIBLE idea. Accept that's not a concussion grenade, it's a flashbang.

And they're all looking at Lara doing adrenoline junky things.

That BANG - FLASH sends off a roar of screams from inside, which is a cue for Frank to advance, in his underwear, on bleeding feet, with bleeding wounds inside. The first one he grabs has his weapon hanging from the strap around his arms, hands up over his eyes. Frank catches him by the back of his armor and spins, throwing him at another, then step kicks into the side of the third's knee. Over their screams it's hard to hear the bone snap, but he definitely dislocated that knee. Hand around the man's throat, pushing him up in the air with his ankle wrapping around the back of his dislocated knee to slam him into the ground hard.

His head bounces off the concrete floor and Frank is advancing on one of the two untangling themselves from one another, he kicks one of their guns away when they reach for it, then stomps the other in the chest as he tries to get up. Gun pointed down at him, glaring daggers through the unarmed man just starting to get his vision back. "Who sent you?"

No answer. Frank shoots the man beneath his bloody foot. Then points the pistol at the one remaining.

Whatever he says, he says it in Porteguese. Quickly. Hands up. It starts to sound a lot like begging.

With a slow, even, breath, he steps closer and ejects the clip from the pistol and incerts a fresh one. Slide retracts, releases, and chambers a round. Whether he needed it or not, it's intimidating. The man is crawling away from him. "You keep asking for mercy." Methodical. Limping a little slower than the man is crawling. In and out of the flicker of hallway lights. "But you came after me. I was retired. I was done... and you fucked that up. So you two options and in both of them you'll tell me what I want to know. In both of them, you die. Only one of them is very painful and lasts a few days. See, I know how to keep you alive. Days... fucking weeks." The last two words are snarled, upper lip quivering.

More porteguese.

And Frank shoots him. Right in the face.

Then slumps against the wall, sliding towards the floor. Head bobbing and twisting in a series of half nods, half shakes. The adrenoline is wanning. The wounds, the blood loss. He slumps towards the floor, on his shoulder, head turned to stare up at the flickering light.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Isn't it amazing how the bullets don't seem to cause much, if any collateral damage? It seems the buildings were 'innocent' as well, with all the bullets flying around Matrix-style, with not that much damage being done to its surroundings.

Seemingly satisfied with the success of her spell, Nico continues to follow, just curious to see what exactly is going on. Did she help the right person? Or did she fuck up and let a mass murderer continue a spree?

She's rather quite chipper as she wanders into the gory sight. The man is begging, pleading for mercy. It doesn't take someone knowledgeable in the language to see what a man is like when not wanting to die.

Her eyes widen as she arrives just before the man is shot in the face. "HOLY FUCK!" she screams. Fortunately, she isn't focusing on a spell or else that could be rather an interesting outcome.

Instead, she just lands on the ground and tries to steel herself, but she can't. She's still a baby SHIELD agent. She threw up and felt terrible when killing someone before. Now she's seeing someone killed in cold blood. So what does she do?

Nico grasps onto a nearby rail and empties her dinner onto the ground. HUUUUURL.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara arrives behind Frank mere moments before he makes the final kill shot as well. She heard the man's words, and though she doesn't speak Portuguese, she does speak Spanish. They're not the same, but they're close, and she gathers enough of what is going on from the mere physicality of it. "Frank!" Lara called out before he shot, causing her to slow down, her own gun aimed down to just in front of her. She stands there, watching, her eyes roaming over the aftermath, some part of her still on alert for possible more enemies. Frank goes down, likely suffering major blood loss effects. She looks to Nico when she hears the young woman dropping her lunch on the floor. Lara breathes softly, seeing no more immediate threats she moves toward Nico. "Hey." She quietly says. "Put a call in, get a team out here immediately. Okay?" She asks, knowing that giving someone something to do in a time like this, will help them focus. She waits to see if Nico responds, but then steps over to Frank. Her gun is set down, and she crouches down beside him. Her scarf comes off, and she moves to start to wrap it around one of the wounds. "We're going to get a medical team out here." She tells him. "Try and stay still... not that it should be hard now." She quietly mutters the last part, as she ties her scarf around one wound, and moves around him to peak at the second...

Frank Castle has posed:
Unconsciousness would be so much easier, that much Frank would assure.

He's been shot several times, there's glass in his feet and adrenoline kept him going. Now that it's gone, he's left sorting out the blood loss. Which means he's hearing things as distant sounds, 'stay still' 'medical team'. His eyes roll to the side to watch Nico collect herself after vomiting.

Makes sense.

Except he's not ready to be arrested..

So with as much strength as he can muster, he's trying to pull himself up. It is ineffective. His thigh wound is closed, but the one in his chest is problematic. The bullet's still in there, so he definitely needs a medical team. Though he'd probably prefer one who aren't keen on seeing him behind bars.

Little he can do about it.

He swallows the lump in his throat and lays his head back. SHIELD will be here before he's summoned enough strength to make a run for it. They're likely on their way. Them and the police. Both are equally bad for Frank Castle.