4796/Stop Stealing My Daughter Already

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Stop Stealing My Daughter Already
Date of Scene: 19 January 2021
Location: Alley Pond Park
Synopsis: Another day, another attempted kidnapping on Cassie this time by Vulture II. Thankfully a lone gunman is there to lend a hand. Well, bullets.
Cast of Characters: Scott Lang, Jethro Glass

Scott Lang has posed:
It was a crisp but sunny day, Scott readily agreeing to take his daughter to the park as requested. Enjoy the decent weather while it lasts before a blizzard comes and traps them inside for days. Letting her run ahead into the Adventure Course, Scott takes his time walking behind her, hands in his pockets and feeling only slightly melancholic after receieving the call from his now former girlfriend. Still he manages to keep a hint of a smile on his face as he plods along the gravel path with a crunch, other children laughing and shouting about as parents chatter, the occasional younger or older couple without kids shuffling by just enjoying the space for its natural beauty in an area mostly known for unending buildings. Blowing out a little cloud of condensation from his mouth, Scott flexes his gloved hands and takes a lean on a rail near the course to watch Cassie as she starts on the ropes.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     The park is in the midst of another beautiful day. The birds sing their cheery songs and the trees carry with them the frost of a late nights snow still left well into the hours of the day.

     Children wander and play under the vegue supervision of their guardians and several adults set on picnic blankets just enjoying the cool blue waters partially frosted over the overcast skies on a pleasant if not a bit frosty day.

     In a far corner of the park just off from where Scott and his Daughter may roam a lone man sets beside a large stacked backpack. He's got his uniform vest and cloth mask off behind himself revealing a simple white cotton shirt and grey uniform pants with a banjo on his knee.

     He's got a small wooden cup sat down on the ground in front of him but the only audience the man has is a lone figure clearly in his late nineties who just slowly bobs his head back from one side to the other in time with the soft strum of the banjo.

     Jethro plays with all of his heart and soul even though prior to the elderly mans request he'd never heard the song before. The melody that rings out is soft and almost magical with a good deal of improvisation to keep the feel of the original tune even if he doesn't know a single note.

     "Let me be by myself in the evening breeze." He sings with a mournful passion filled with sorrow the gravel faded from his voice as he dips from one word to the next. "Let me listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees" His fingers dance across the strings of the banjo from one string to the next his lone audience member wiping a tear from his long since greyed eye. "Send me off forever, but I ask you please... don't fence me in."

Scott Lang has posed:
The music was pretty enough, not to mention melancholic enough to distract Scott from watching his own daughter. There was little reason to be all that concerned, the course was a closed area, only one way in and out and plenty of people paying attention. It's not as if anything bad could happen in there. So he turns, his back on the railing, Jethro some ways off but the melody at least reaching him even if the words might not. Scott closing his eyes, drinking in the sound as his fingers tap on the chilly metal rail he leans on. Peaceful, bittersweet, he'd be fine again tomorrow, he just needed some time...

Screams. Children and adults alike. Scott's eyes fly open and he pivots around to find in just a few seconds everything has changed. Hovering over the enclosed course was a man in a winged harness. The Vul...no, it wasn't the Vulture. At least, not the one most people knew. This man was younger, his movements not quite as practiced as Adrian Toomes. His cellmate, Raniero Drago having gotten out and managed to get hold of his 'friend's' equipment. He hangs now over the course with a small child gripped in either hand dangling by their arms. One Scott doesn't know, a boy no older than 3. The other he knows too well. "CASSIE! Dammit not again!" Scott hollers as he leaps over the railing and drops into the slight pit that holds the course. Not that this gets him much closer to the wannabe Vulture.

Raniero laughs as the two kids squirm, doing his best to maintain a hover. "Hey sorry guys and gals. I just need some fuel for...you know what, better you don't know. You all have fun though I-" his cocky monologuing brought to a sudden halt as Cassie gets a bit of a swing going from her arm and kicks him square in the junk sending him into a bit of a wild spin over the course. It seems training with Strix had paid off.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro hits the melody of the song between verses. He's thrumbing along with that melancholic tone which fills the air just as the screaming starts. From the moment the first voice echoes that banjo hits the ground and his rifle hits his back. There's no time for thinking, no time for pause, the old artefact bounding loosely off the grass and resting against his pack.

     His hands go for the nearest weapon on his person. It's faster to draw iron on his hip then to reach far for that gold damascened rifle on his back. He practically throws the weapon into his hand unhooking the latch in a single fluid motion as the gun spins round his trigger finger. Once, twice, and on the third it falls perfectly flush against the palm of his hand.

     Jethro's feet are already moving as he drops the mask down over his eyes down towards the base of where the strange man in his flying machine hovers.

     His tongue sticks ever so slightly out from the corner of his mouth tasting the wind and testing its direction. His eyes dart one side to the other, all happening in less than a second as he slides towards a stop at the base.

     For a moment everything seems to slow down to a crawl, a world of information flooding into his head as his hand connects with the firearm, everything bathed in a familiar and comforting purple hue. His finger depresses down onto the trigger sending forth a single shot.

     A plume of smoke exits the barrel of his six shooter clogging the air, a thunderous crack as the sound barrier is broken in all directions.

     The bullet flies through the air as his feet come to a complete stop, the cylinder of his revolver cycling through with a soft spoken click from one round to the next as he fans the hammer ready for another shot.

     For the vulture this round may easily seem a narrow miss as it lands right into the wing beside his head fracturing the soft lead into two parts.

     Those two parts travel on the shrapnel carried by the slight gust of wind further into the distance before slamming into a flagpole denting its surface with a ding in the distance before careening off the surface of a car and mailbox respectively and finally zip, zip, one small lump of shrapnel each grazes just barely the complex wires of the vultures mechanical monstrosity tearing into the surface of each arm as it flows forward past him and down into the dirt bellow all before the smoking barrel of One Hit Wonders Six shooter has had time to cool.

Scott Lang has posed:
"You stupid little brat! I was gonna...HOLY CRAP! Are you shooting at me?! I've got hostages you, you," Vulture II's concerns with Jethro's morality brought to a halt as something starts to feel funny in his flying harness. A scent of smoke in the air, the sound of more screaming with as the shooting causes more people to take off running though Scott and the little boy's parents remain.

And despite the fact his child is literally in the hands of a kidnapper, even Scott has to agree as he angrily turns back, his eyes practically ablaze and his mouth a snarl. "DON'T SHOOT AT MY KID!" he snaps, sounding almost more enraged at Jethro than he was at flying ex-con. Though for now there was little he could do about either, his Ant-Man suit wasn't on, shrunken and tucked away in a pocket, no time to change. In fact maybe even less time than he thought he had.

Jethro's crackshot may have succeeded in damaging the wiring of the flying harness. But that didn't mean it triggered a safe and controlled landing. Indeed as more smoke and sparks appear from along the man's back he starts to spin overhead, moving back and forth in increasingly uncontrolled bursts like a flying top. "Hey! HEY! S-stop this thing! I want off!" he cries, still thankfully gripping the children tightly for now, but more out of reflex than any desire to keep them safe.

"CASSIE! DADDY IS COMING!" cries out Scott as he pulls something from his pocket he does have. One growth disc, one shrink disc, the rest of his supply shrunken with the suit. He doesn't dare use them on himself, without the suit he'd struggle. Instead he jumps on top a small pillar in the adventure course, a line of pillars meant for people to practice their balance as they jumped from one to another, each no more than a foot high or so. Scott reaches under himself and slaps the grow disc against it, concrete rupturing around it as the pillar grows both out and up, raising him up close to the level of the still hovering Vulture.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "When I shoot at something." Jethro adjusts his positioning, catching sight of a weakened tree. He throws his sling around his waist and tosses his rifle into his arms. Teeth grip down hard onto a paper cartridge ripping open the end.

     At the edge of the park an old tree is marked with a big red X it's worn and its leaves have mostly turned a dull shade of brown as the rott has struck down to its core. His eyes narrow for just a moment.

     The rifle points towards the ground dropping out a ram rod into his waiting hand. As Jethro falls back he tilts the rifle up with his chest dropping the cartridge into the barrel slapping down a firing cap and ramming down the rod in one fluid motion as he'd done a million times prior.

     "I never miss." Smoke fills the air again as a much larger, much faster round fires off from the whitworth rifle sending forth a brilliant plume of off white smoke into the air. The round burrows deep across the tree's surface tearing it open a second round from his revolver now back safely in its holster pushing the old tree over to one side.

     Down and down it tumbles through the air and onto the open ground crushing beneath itself a forgotten basketball and providing a makeshift canopy of brush as it bounds up back off of the ground and into its final resting place.

Scott Lang has posed:
Scott winces as hears the crack of the even larger rifle fire off and the smaller pistol following up, but he watches as the old dead tree falls. It wouldn't be a pleasant place to land, but it was a lot better than concrete. There's no recognition from him either when it comes to Jethro, but then last time they'd met he'd been working on 48 hours of no sleep. His fingers curl into fists as he stands atop the now enlarged metal pillar high in the air and looks down at Jethro from above. "Well I hope you're as good a catch as you are a shot if this goes wrong!" he hollers as the inept kidnapper spins back closer to him.

"Help!" cries out Raniero with genuine fear in his eyes. He has no idea what to do. What kind of idiot just goes and steals someone's high tech equipment while having no idea how it works?

Scott grits his teeth and manages a few steps for a running head start before he leaps out and grabs the man by the legs. Vulture II dips lower but Scott's weight still isn't enough to bring him down and the spinning only worsens. His daughter and the small boy are both screaming. "DADDY! MOMMY!" even Cassie having calling for a mother who isn't there.

"Let go! You're gonna make us crash! You're gonna-"

"You got it," admits Scott as he hoists himself up onto the man's back and physically manipulates the broken wings, aiming them for the pile of brush. And despite all his best instincts telling him not to, turning about so he'd be the one on the bottom, cushioning not just the escaped criminal but the two children as well. This was gonna hurt no doubt about it.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro calmly walks over to the sidelines reloading his revolver one round at a time as he watches the proceedings. He can't do much but watch as the spiraling occurs down and down and down they go where they stop well everyone but vulture and the kids know.

     He's ready to catch them if they fall out of the way but with luck it's a large enough target that they seem right on path to hit. He makes his way over to the brush as the collision occurs lowering his revolver down into place to point towards the head of Vulture-II.

     The dust begins to settle the clouds of smoke from the black powder rifle and revolver beginning to fade into the distance as the chaos of the moment too fades with it. The end of his barrel is still hot for a few moments though it steadily cools as the smoke too fades.

     "Just aint your day." He mentions towards the pile.

Scott Lang has posed:
The children bounce into the brush, their would be kidnapper letting go moments before impact. Scrapes and bruises would warrant tears at their age even if they weren't both already bawling from the fright of it all. Both scramble out of the pile though, Cassie taking cover behind the legs of Jethro while the boy sprints towards his wailing parents who both head up and out back into the park. Sirens can be heard approaching by now, Raneiro's getaway obviously in tatters. As for Scott? He can be heard groaning in pain underneath followed by an enraged, "GET OFF!" as he kicks the kidnapper in the back. Vulture-II lets out a pained holler and falls out of the brush pile, landing face first on the pavement as Scott clambers out, scraped and bruised, holding a hand to his chest. The usually cheery, jokey hero looks like with a hint of gamma radiation he'd become a true disaster zone, but instead he lunges on top of Raneiro and begins raining down punches.

"Why can't you people leave my daughter alone?! Why?! Why?! Why?!" he snaps as he keeps punching. Cassie trembles behind Jethro, wanting nothing more than to go to her father, and yet at the same time scared of him now as well.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro takes a moment to holster his revolver and go down onto one knee beside Casie. He places himself between the fighting and the little girl. "It's alright little one." He starts with that gravel filled voice. "I know it might look a bit rough right now." The sounds of fistfalls just a few feet behind him as he looks down to the girl blocking the line of sight with his presence as he speaks in that thick accent.

     "But there are some folks out there who only learn when the fear of god's put in them." He reaches into his clothes and pulls out a simple bit of honey candy. It's not much for the modern pallet, just some solidified honey, and probably wouldn't fit modern health standards. "Seems cruel, seems brutal, but it leaves a lesson you don't forget."

     He adjusts his stance into a crouched setting position. "Your father loves you very much, and that man just needs a bit of a reminder what happens to any folks what would suffer the little ones." He reaches out to ruffle her hair with a bit of a friendly smile as the thumps and wacks continue a part of the brutality.

Scott Lang has posed:
Really those extra few punches? The ones that break Raneiro's nose and cheekbone and make his concussion one of those ones where the doctor's years from now ask 'did you play football when you were younger? Because the scans don't look good.' Those were all Jethro's fault. Captain America would have stopped Scott sooner. Thankfully Scott wasn't yet at the point of trying to murder someone. That was at least two more kidnappings away as he slumps back on his ass, his knuckles aching and bleeding. He turns around on his butt on the cold ground and holds his arms out. Despite what she'd just seen Cassie dashes to him, warranting a groan of pain from Scott as she bumps a bruised rib. All the same he wraps his arms about her tightly and after a couple of attempts manages to stand up, albeit rather gingerly while still holding her. Peering over her little shoulder he gives Jethro a onceover like he's never seen the man before in his life.

"Good shooting. Even if I still ain't crazy about it being anywhere near my little girl," he partially concedes. Indeed, without the shooting there'd have been little chance of his catching the man on his own.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "Nice right hook." Jethro offers in a gravely response moving over to meet Scott half way. Him and Rogers may have had a lot in common but there were some distinct differences to be had. He places a hand down onto Scotts shoulder. "Never take a shot I aint confident in."

     He pats lightly on the spot. His attention goes back over towards tha battered and bruised Vulture two, and he does what he can to make sure the man aint dead. He looks over and sees the chest still moving up and down, and nods his head that his work on that front is done and done.

     He looks up towards the sky for a long moment pausing in silence as he contemplates what's just happened. It's the feel of the gun in his hand after this long month. The taste left in his mouth of blood still fresh on the air.

     "Captain Jethro Glass" He introduces himself before a light pause. "One Hit Wonder." A lone hand held out towards Scott. "Last we met you were a bit worse for wear."

Scott Lang has posed:
"We met?" Scott answers in confusion. Cassie is still clinging to him like a koala with superstrength, almost strangling him as she cries on his shoulder, though it's beginning to slow. No doubt she'd be passed out soon from the over excitement. Awkwardly he shifts her so he can sorta reach one hand out and give a weak shake, his pained fingers not allowing for much more than that before he returns it to her back. "Scott Lang. That name of yours is..." Scott thinking on it. He was about to criticize One Hit Wonder as a name when he was Ant-Man? He lets out a sigh. "It's something. C'mon, I know I should stay and do a report with the police but frankly I don't feel like making her wait to get home any longer than I have to," doing the heroic thing, leaving a battered and beaten man. There were enough other witnesses straggling back with their phone cameras going that Vulture II wasn't going to get away without his involvement now. Besides, Batman left them swinging on lammposts all the time and got charges to stick.

Heading out of the obstacle course Scott starts slowly walking back to the street, still rubbing Cassie's back now and then. It's not clear when he nexts speak if it's to himself or Jethro. "I gotta stop this. This is the third time she's been attacked in less than 2 months. I don't know what it is but, I need to stop it," he mutters.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     "You have two options." Jethro starts after a long pause walking alongside Scott slowly but surely as he collects his things, throwing them back onto his back. He collects his things, dumping out the 5 dollars and some change that he was given by the nice elderly man in the park.

     "Keep beating everyone who tries within an inch of their life." He pulls out a corncob pipe made from an actual cob of corn and stuffs it full of tobacco. "Or" He lights it with a horrific smelling match that makes an incredibly distinct sound puffing away on his baccie. "You hire someone to do it for you."

     He places his hands down into his pockets looking up towards the tall pillars of steel and concrete. Smoke slowly rolls from his pipe as he puffs and puffs away. "Anything else would just be putting her at risk." Before Scott can answer he adds. "Don't hire me, I'm a musician, not a fighter."

Scott Lang has posed:
"I can't be there for her all the time," Scott hoarsely answers, closing his eyes a moment and briefly squeezing his daughter just a bit harder. "Her mother and I split up. And even when she is with me, gods I only took my eyes off her a second," still sounding guilty, hell still FEELING guilty even though logically he knew he did nothing wrong. Nobody could watch their child 24/7, especially against FLYING kidnappers.

Getting closer to the car now he stops a moment and turns aside off the path, police have now reached the park, a cadre trotting by them, trusting in Jethro to know well enough to duck behind a tree or something, long rifles in a New York park enough to get an arrest even before an emergency call. Once they've gone by he steps back on the pathway and resumes, mumbling into his daughter's ear a few moments before looking back at Jethro. Managing to crack something of a grin.

"Yeah no offense but I'll find someone who doesn't smoke either. Don't need em stinking up my car. And, blast it I'm an Avenger and I want someone stronger than me if I can manage it, feel like I can barely do enough for her. Gotta be some leads somewhere, sure someone can help me," his brow furrowing up as he tries to think, wrestling his keys from his pocket without letting her down, earning him a few protesting whines from Cassie as she's jostled.

Jethro Glass has posed:
     Jethro mananages to follow along just fine and in spite of being a man with a massive backpack covered in his lifes belongings he still manages to blend into the background when the officers come running by. It's his training as a hunter that sees him blend in without hiding. A slowed breathing slight ducking down of his silhouette in spite of just how much he stands out if one didn't know he was there one would be hard pressed to even see him just looking past as he blends his way into his surroundings.

     Turning to one side he takes another long drag from his pipe puffing out little smoke rings into the air. "Helps water on the lungs." His only response to the accusation of his being a smoker. He smirks lightly, twin rows of yellowed teeth. "Aint my place but plenty of powered folks outa work."

Scott Lang has posed:
"Yeah, lotta them hiding too...wonder if SHIELD would let me in their database to find a babysitter," Scott wonders aloud as he unlocks the car door. With a bit of cajoling he manages to get Cassie to detach and into the carseat, buckling her up and laying a kiss on her forehead before he shuts the door. "I gotta get her home, get some ice cream in her and rubbing alcohol on me. Look uh, thanks man, you saved my girl. You need anything let me know, I won't forget it," Scott vows as he moves around to get in, looking up and down the street for signs of any other danger. Paranoia MIGHT just be starting to get a hold on his brain by now as he climbs in and starts off down the road. Doing the speed limit no less.