6889/Guns of the Bronx

Guns of the Bronx
Date of Scene:	11 July 2021
Location:	South Bronx Waterfront
Synopsis:	Having come to a warehouse run by agents of the European Tannhauser arms collective, the Red Sentinel and Bolo have very different purposes - but after a short and spectactular clash with said agents, both came away with what they were looking for. And all it took was a lot of punching and some very painful full-body sunburns.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Erickson, Jovian Anderson

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Michael Erickson has posed:
    The South Bronx. Equal parts a decayed urban wasteland and the cradle of glorious artistic traditions, it has seen a return to peace and prosperity over the last twenty years. When the being that calls himself Michael Erickson first came to New York, however, it was still the poverty-stricken, crumbling urban wild whose streets were largely commanded by gangs, not gentrification initiatives. Hip-hop was born here on Sedgwick Avenue. The riotous color of graffiti art as it is known today. In his first year in the city he met the young man who would become Afrika Bambaataa; he long wondered if the afrofuturistic-styled luminary of urban music ever realized he'd actually met an alien. Though he lives in Murray Hill, this part of the city has always been a favorite of his - partly because of the vibrancy of the people, but because as a soldier, he can appreciate a proper battleground.

    But this isn't a campaign world, and the people who live in this part of town have long fought wars only against themselves. And like all battlegrounds, there are always profiteers. Enter the Tannhauser underground technology group. Illegal, advanced technology is their mode and modus: last week Michael busted a deal to take place between Tannhauser middlemen and a group of Italians looking to fortify their armory. Tonight, he descends upon a warehouse where, supposedly, a Tannhauser agent and his circle are preparing a load of plasma-based explosives for sale to another batch of organized crime figures, identity unknown.

    It should be said that the US State Department has levied a bounty of 100,000 dollars for information or evidence (or capture) of Tannhauser personnel. So there's that.

    Tonight, Michael dons again the image of the Red Sentinel, his superheroic blind, to deal with these people. Creeping across shadowed roofs toward a warehouse facing the Harlem River, down near the 3rd Avenue Bridge, he is a being of shadow, holographic darkness masking his shape. Man-sized, a slinking form of light- and radiation-consuming darkness, damned near invisible to the eye or to sensors. But not /entirely/. Though the armor he wears, the second skin of thin, articulated metal, is a work of highly advanced alien technology, it isn't perfect. Especially to beings who are made of shadow themselves.

    But the night goes on, and he moves. Some five hundred feet away, the warehouse waits, guarded only by a single man in a booth, dressed in the uniform of a security guard. No badge. No company identification. But who looks at those?

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson doesnt NEED to take bounties. Until he finds better equipment or training, he shouldnt be doing anything he doesnt have to avoid cultists, carnies and missions for guys in bathrobes but there are piece of information that can only be gathered in the shadows and if you dont do jobs like that, you arent really serious about it. As such, he is out tonight plus curious about leads on advanced techology himself. He is wearing his more advanced armor and armed with actual firearms since he might be dealing with blasters, cloaking himself in shadows as he moves towards the warehouse, scoping it out. The single man seems deceptively simple.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The word on the street, of course, is that these Euro guys are available to sell all sorts of things - advanced regular firearms, 'railguns' (which are in fact coilguns but it's not like people usually know the difference) and even 'zappers' and 'blasters' whatever the Hell those are. You can get a lot of interesting things when the Euros are in town...but rare are those who get an appointment, and rarer still are those who can afford to buy in bulk.

    Above on the rooftops, the Sentinel moves - quickly, quietly, seemingly tireless as he goes. Soon he alights upon the roof of the building next to the warehouse in question; he hunkers down, then, and through the faceless visor of his helmet uses the powerful penta-vision sensors to sweep the structure beyond. Tannhauser has been busy: picked out in thermal, electromagnetic and x-ray scanning layers, he can see the sensors set up on the roof of the structure to detect movement and vibration. Power lines run down through the ceiling to connect to a bank of batteries in case of an outage. Men with guns, exotic weapons, not the simple mechanisms of chemical firearms, pacing the interior. Likely they're using the same coilguns that they're known to sell, not simple rifles. His armor, strong as it is, won't protect from massed fire forever.

    Out front the guard does a good show of just hanging out in the watch booth, but that's all it is. Underneath the counter he has a oversized mag-coil pistol as well.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson is able to move with a surprising amount of stealth and decides to take action none the less. He steps out of the shadows his ability naturally provides and tosses a bolo that moves rapidly and silently to hit him unexpectedly. Its not a guarantee of hitting him but its likely to. Jovian starts moving in radidly to follow through and try and knock him out either way.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The bolo whips silently through the air as Jovian hurls it, night-black and blurring; however, the Lexan windows on the booth are strong enough that the bolo simply strikes with a loud /crack/ and bounces off, dissolving. Given that Jovian is already on the move toward the booth, however, this only works in his favor. The moment of surprise and pure 'what the hell' conjured in the 'guard' as Jovian's bolo strikes is all the man needs to emerge from the darkness and reach into the booth to strike or smash the guard's head against the window, putting his lights out for a good hour or so. 'Never saw it coming' is a watchword for the man of shadows.

    Meanwhile, the Sentinel is still crouched on the roof of the adjoining warehouse, thinking of how to get in cleanly. While Bolo busies himself with dispatching the guard, he draws from the holster mag-clamped to his thigh a bulky, blackchromed pistol that looks more like an insect than a firearm, levels it at one of the sensors toward the back corner of the roof, aided by the sensors in his helmet. A faint buzzing whine emits from the weapon as he pulls the trigger, as does a needle-thin beam of invisible radiation; the pistol's microwave mode flash-fries the sensors interior instantly, leaving a blind spot for him to land on. And that's where he goes, landing on the roof of the warehouse in question with nary a blip from the rest of the grid that he can determine. Excellent.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson definitely feels like he is getting at least nominally better at this. He quickly searches the guard keys an access card and anything else he can looking at the pistol with some trepidation. His inner video game player wants to pick it up but he remembers the jet pack tha tnearly killed him and simply kicks it out of sight from the guard as he qucikly zip ties him, reemerging the shadows and moving farther in to the facility, keeping his eyes and ears open.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The weapon is sleek, if bulky, and not at all like most weapons on the market -- it's a bit like the days of the 70s when the Steyr AUG landed as if from the far future. But it is abandoned as he zipties the guard, who is /not/ getting up anytime soon.

    Meanwhile the Sentinel is busy on intrusion, holstering the bulky microwave pistol and stretching out his fingers. Long, eagle-like talons spring from the fingers of their gloves, their business edges laser sharp, and quietly he begins to score away a section of corrugated metal large enough for him to slip through. Tra la, tra la.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson slips in through the pedestrian entrance, though he could go through the wall but using his powers too much causes problems. He has a bolo in hand and is ready to hit any guard that he sees. He has not yet seen any but is sure that they are there.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    It was, at one point, an electronics warehouse - whatever company stored the wares here went out of business in...apparently the 1980s, based on the age of the stacks and stacks of televisions and other electronics arranged here on shelves. Not a flat screen in sight, by God. It's positively medieval. Amongst these towers of ancient electronics men in black fatigues and tactical gear walk, carrying rifles of a similar style to the pistol the guard had with him, night-vision goggles worn on their heads. Modern ones - more than modern - not the bulky nonsense of conventional armies. They walk the lanes, seeking any trouble. In the back there's an office, its windows papered over. The door is metal, reinforced on the frame, and with a complex-looking computerized lock with a keypad interface.

    Meanwhile, the Sentinel slices away a section of the roof big enough to pry up quietly and slide through. Though the armor under its holographic sheath of darkness is made of metal, there is barely any noise made as he drops twenty feet to the warehouse floor.

    /Barely/.

    But what noise there is made is enough to get the attention of a passing guard. He walks that way, turning on the light fixed on his shoulder to throw a spot in that direction...but, at least for the moment, the Sentinel remains unseen behind a stack of boxes of old VHS players.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson spots the office and begins to head towards it, mindful of the goggles and wondering if they can see into the shadows he creates, moving them and making the shadows a bit darker but still doing what he can to stay out of the physical sight until he spots the Sentinel land and then watches for a bit to see if he is here to do the same thing he is.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    The Sentinel is, for a moment longer, a shimmering figure of yawning darkness...until the light hits them. Or, rather, actually /doesn't/. Swallowing the light as it falls in the Sentinel's shape is, for a moment, blacker than black, something that should not exist in nature. And then...the camouflage drops, and holographic emitters show a different figure, bulkier. Like a six-and-a-half foot robot from cartoons of the 1980s, bright red in color, the faceless helmet of the Red Sentinel - or rather, the form that he chooses to take, the hard light disguise - gleams in the light of the guard's flashlight as he vaults over the stack of boxes and charges the man like a freight train.

    The whine of rifle fire reverberates as a supersonic slug pierces the wall of the warehouse behind him, a very near miss. The mobile machine-suit strikes the man on the run with a fist, which sends him flying into a rack of televisions. Now there's an intruder, and men are shouting as they ready their rifles and move to converge on the Sentinel. But the Sentinel is already drawing the bulky, insectile pistol from its place on his hip.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson is relatively certain they are on the ame side and heads right for the office. While taking these guys out is good, realizing who has hired them is going to be more valuable to the cause in the long run. He moves straight there at this point, dodging fire as he does so, nodding once to the Red Sentinel as he does.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Of course, the Sentinel already /has/ this knowledge - not that Jovian would know. Instead he's doing his own sideshow here as a walking engine of destruction, having probably put one man in the hospital already and leveling the blaster in hand at the next two who come out with their rifles at the ready, ducking behind a shelving unit for cover. Lifting his hand he levels the weapon at them, pulling the trigger - and if one could see radiation, the cone of microwaves that flashes out from the weapon does not cook them, as it did the security sensors, but instead heats the skin of both men in an instant to a painful degree. Instant sunburn. Screams emit from them as they find themselves needing a bottle of Solarcaine and wearing all that tactical gear on top of it, writhing in pain, and the Sentinel continues to seek his targets with this particularly nasty choice of nonlethal weapon ready in his mechanical hand.

    And then he sees Jovian. Whom he does not know. But could be a target. Up comes the pistol his way.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson says, "HEY there Pecos Bill, I'm here for the same thing,@ he looks at the door and thermals it open and looks around, "Ok, maybe not quite at the same level of lethatlity but definitely dealing with the bounty. Name's Bolo."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    << I DO NOT CARE ABOUT THE BOUNTY. >> The voice that emits from the armored suit is a blend of male, female, and animal, a snarling thing that sounds like it should come from a horror movie and not a walking suit of sci-fi armor. More slugs whistle through the air his way, one of them seeming to strike an oversized metallic shoulder pauldron - but he does not stop as he runs up and gives another man a horrible sunburn. << I AM HERE TO DESTROY THE WEAPONS HERE. >> Weapons are kicked away as they're dropped by screaming guards. << YOU MAY COLLECT THEM FOR LAW ENFORCEMENT WHEN WE ARE FINISHED. >>

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson hadnt really considered THAT as an option but nods. He makes a tactical adjustment and begins throwing bolos a the people being seemingly atomized by the Sentinel. If he can render them unable to fight, he might just save their life. He moves carefully but with purpose, moving a lot more agressively than he otherwise might. It isnt that the sentinel is DEFINITELY lethal, its more a matter of him worrying that he might turn that way.

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Happily enough, atomization is not a fate these fellows will meet -- he didn't bring that gun -- but the Sentinel is mixing it up hard with the poor bastards on the warehouse floor. The weapon barely makes a sound compared to the high-pitched whine of the mag-rifles, but the robotic 'hero' does not miss. Where Bolo moves with minimal aggression, the Sentinel is all aggro all the time. Perhaps these guys killed a loved one, or ran over his dog, from the way he terrorizes them; between his microwaves and metal fists, and Jovian's hurling bolos, the guards are handily put down in a matter of very loud, very fearsome minutes.

    And then it's just them, standing on the warehouse floor, surrounded by writhing, unconscious, or just very /concerned/ men with their ankles and wrists bound up. The Sentinel looks at Jovian now, robotic helmet and faceless mask. << THE TANNHAUSER PERSONNEL ARE NOW YOURS, >> he proclaims. << I WILL DESTROY THE EXPLOSIVES. THERE WILL BE NO DETONATION, DO NOT FEAR. >>

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson says, "Well, the good news is if it doesnt have tentacles and induce madness the fear requirement has gone up at this point in my career, so all good" he holds up a thumb and makes contacts for his contacts in the ATF and FBI. The good news is he knows EXACTLY the right people to call for this."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    << YOU WILL ALSO NEED TO DEAL WITH INTERPOL. TANNHAUSER IS AN INTERNATIONAL CONCERN. >> A beat. << I WISH YOU LUCK ON THAT SCORE. >> Because, well. Interpol. With that, the mechanized beast of a being walks to the office, pausing to scan it with his armor's senses. Then, rearing a fist up, he punches a hole through the papered-over glass, filling the air with the sound of its shattering -- and taking from his belt a flat boxy pack the size of a smartphone, presses a button on the device and throws it in while walking away.

    Alas, there is no explosion for him to be too cool to look at while doing so. There is just a soft whuffing pop and a flash of greenish light, then silence.

    << THEY ARE ALL YOURS, >> the Sentinel says as he passes Jovian and heads toward the doors. << I WISH YOU GOOD FORTUNE. >>

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson says, "Sounds good to me." He salutes but being former law enforcement he is actually quite adroit at paper work and making things work. He salutes and takes care of the idiots. Once law enrfocment shows up he also secures the office making sure he gets a copy of the intel. He has a good relationship with the feds but not THAT good."

Michael Erickson has posed:
    Funny thing about the office. There /were/ signs of something being in there. A whole table full of somethings, in fact. But when Jovian gets in there, there's just...nothing at all. Paperwork, sure. Notes that are absolutely made by the folks running things here -- but all in code. Because of course.

    But of whatever was on the office table, only smoking shells of metal remain.

    And of the being in the armored suit, whose name went unasked for and unoffered, there is nothing at all.