3535/Fast as a...

Fast as a...
Date of Scene:	24 September 2020
Location:	Mutant town
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Barbara-Ann Minerva, Naria Shepard

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Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
"It's simple, really." says a female voice with a posh, British accent. "Either you pay, or my friends and I play..." What follows sounds like a flower pot shattering on the pavement, "...so to speak."

It's early evening and a heavy rain is pelting down on Mutant Town -- the historic neighborhood for NYC's 'gifted population.' The evident drama is playing out in a back alley behind Persephone's Flowers -- one of the oldest mom-and-pop florists in the area. The rain helps to dampen the sounds, but it can't kill them completely.

Naria Shepard has posed:
Early evening, crappy weather and a rough neighbourhood. Not exactly the nicest place to be! Still, it had been the site of more than one of Rave's shows...and also the one that had been publicly attacked, so finding the 'bluenette' moving among the population wasn't so strange. For once walking at a normal human pace, Rave was wrapped in a longer coat with her hood pulled up, her form obscured but almost certain to be the usual shorter 'workout' or club wear she prefered. Hard to tell really.

The young woman was humming to herself, lazily bopping along to some tune in her head when the shattering of ceramics catches her ears. A blink, a pop of the bubblegum she'd been blowing a bubble from and the girl with the luminescent locks and eyes moves towards the mouth of the alleyway.

Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
Within the alley, just out of sight, are three individuals standing far too close for comfort around a fourth: the titular Persephone. She is an older woman with a slight green tint to her skin that is visible even in the gathering murk. She has a particular gift with plants and that has been the secret of her success. Tonight, however, her back is against the wall. Literally.

Two large, bald goons wearing leather jackets stand on either side of Persephone. The goon on the left is courteously holding an umbrella over a second female who is standing directly in front of Persephone. Even viewed from behind by anyone just entering the alley, it is clear this woman is something other than human. She's tall, her ears are pointed, and every inch of exposed skin is covered with thick, golden fur. The umbrella keeps her perfectly dry. Everybody else is soaked. To the right is a trolley filled with seedlings in ceramic pots.

"It's really not my fault." Persephone stammers. "Franklin got sick and...well, we don't have insurance and..."

Naria Shepard has posed:
Oh! A shakedown, this was...well it wasn't new, but in mutant town it more often tended to be vandals and rioters rather than a classical criminal enterprizes. Clearly someone thought it was time to exploit an open market. The clearly non-human woman made sense in its own way, only metas and mutants would probably dare trying such things on metas and mutants...but that didn't make them less of a danger.

Another pop of her chewing gum, there's a sudden flash of light announcing...well, something. Or someone really. The coat was resting hanging on the doorframe and Rave rested atop one of the nearby trashcans, her neon locks glowing lightly as she cleared her throat. "So uh...you're going to want to stop that," she speaks up. "Some of us actually -like- getting flowers now and then."

Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
Persephone peers over the hirsute shoulder of her tormentor to spy Rave standing on the trashcan. Without turning around, said tormentor's shoulders drop in a visible sign of frustration. "You have got to be joking," she mutters mostly to herself. Then, a quick word with the goon holding the umbrella, "Is it someone established at least?" The goon eyeballs Rave up and down and wordlessly shakes his head. A catlike sound of exasperation comes from lone, dry figure -- clearly Miss Hairy is the brains of this operation. The second goon whispers helpfully, "Hey...I think I know her. I think she's on my Spotify playlist." This does not appear to make the situation any better. For now, Rave has been left to stand on the trashcan. In the rain. This probably happens to Batman all the time.

Naria Shepard has posed:
Ouch. Well, maybe it was a good thing criminals hadn't been following her social media feed? Technically it made for handy evidence, but it did put up a great neon 'sign' about whoever she messed with. Some of those people held a grudge. Another bubble blown before she slides to stand and deposits the gum in the bin, the 'bluenette' girl stretches her arms over her head, idly bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Great taste in music then...not so much careers."

A step forwards, that glow intensifies just that little bit more and the young woman folds her hands behind her back, leaning in lightly. "Time for you guys to leave now. Quit bothering the flower lady before things get worse for you."

Eyes shift, moving to focus on the hairy woman and lips pull to a smirk. "What did she do? Deal you some bad catnip?"

Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
Captain Catnip - there's no need for a formal introduction - spins on her heel to eyeball Rave for herself. Her face has a strong feline cast and (presently at least) wears a haughty sneer. Monstrous mien aside, she speaks cheerily, "No, she's precisely $512 and..." she pauses to shoot one of her goons an inquiring look.

The goon completes the statement, "39 cents."

Catnip picks up again, "..39 cents short of her monthly tally. Ergo, I am about to gut her like a fish. You get to decide whether to try to apprehend /us/ or take /her/ to hospital." A fistful of black, curved claws fit for the purpose appears. "Shall we begin?"

Naria Shepard has posed:
Okay. So the banter and trash-talk stage was over. Rave gives a little click of her tongue...and then there's a click of her phone, a quick shot snapped before the device is tucked into the pocket of her shorts in a startlingly fast sweeping motion. "Before," she offers, straightening up with a grin on her features. As if that word offered explaination before she exhale a breath. Then there was a streak, barely more than a flash of light and a fading comet-like trail of light as Rave rushed, sweeping low and trying to interpose herself between Persephone and Claw-lady plus goons.

Get the civillians clear first! She'd been learning.

Of course, she'd also immediately tipped her hand about her speed. "So...what do you think is faster? Cats, or lasers?"

Barbara-Ann Minerva has posed:
The corners of Catnip's eyes narrow when her photo is snapped. Before she can retort, Rave is in motion. Then so is she. Demon cats, it would appear, can give lasers a run for their money. Ask the Flash.

Catnip drops down to the balls of her feet and, spinning about from right to left, makes a slashing motion toward the squishy bits of Persephone's torso before moving perpendicularly away from Rave's course. This occurs far faster than most anyone could perceive; however, being a speedster herself, Rave may be able to follow the plot. Can she make it in time?