9200/Bold Brash Bravta Beatdown

Bold Brash Bravta Beatdown
Date of Scene:	21 December 2021
Location:	Abandoned Cement Factory
Synopsis:	Dmitri and Monet fight some Russian Mobsters.
Cast of Characters:	Dmitri Pushkin, Monet St. Croix

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Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The abandoned factory is a perfect place for the criminal element of NYC to meet up and meet up they do from time to time. It's a bright and sunny day when the Bravta meet to make their plan. Russian bodybuilders covered in mafia tattoos gathered around their black sports cars discussing their evil plan.

     (You are all wondering why you have been brought here today.) One of them speaks in Russian lowering his AK-47 against his shoulder. He's a particularly overtly muscular man with suit pants and a missing shirt. The letters CCCP run across his chest along with a picture of a bald eagle being choke slammed by a sentient hammer and sickle tattooed across his stomach.

     (I am wondering why I am not killing a dog like you.) Another man speaks up in Ukrainian his skin covered in blue scales a strange bottle of water placed upon each of the mans gills on either side of his head. (Communist dogs like you deserve death not time and money.)

     One of the goons steps forward cracking his knuckles as electricity arcs off of each one static covering the room as two of the Ukrainians raise their AR15's in retaliation.

     It's one heck of a heated gathering with a large group of people speaking different eastern block languages. The trunks of their cars are filled with drugs of all kinds and weapons galore as the group bicker and squabble. A cold breeze washes over the surroundings.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
All this 'street level' things are beneath her. Her clothes probably cost more than most things in this building do put together. But.. An errant thought picked up while she had been going through the city had lead her to tracking them. Her picking up enough of what was going on through the discussion to follow after it. Normally M's first impulse of 'level it' was held off purely due to the nature of the gathering and how many things she could from a distance picked up.
    So as the gathering is happening, Monet has cautiously been trailing along. Using her slightly enhanced senses and telepathy to try and keep tabs of notice, and then moving to stay out of direct line of sight. This skulking about is all very beneath her.. But she's here without backup and all those guns could hurt her, of the nerve. So as the belligerency goes back and forth, Monet would take some time to think and analyse. She couldn't attempt to telepathically 'zot' that many people, much less in a heated and paranoid state they were in. A shootout here would result in immense carnage with possibly dozens of casualties. She would track them as best she coul by their tatoos, language, and insignia. Helpful that the crime families all had themselves be color coded for convenience. But now M faaces the problem of figuring out how to fight her way through them, minimize damage..
    And not have another expensive outfit ruined. So out of immediate line of sight, Monet tries to think of something to do.. And then goes to thoughtfully go along the line of the back, where some of the (likely) lower ranked members of one of the gangs were. SHe couldn't hit a large group..
    Focusing on a small group of two or three that were 'behind' most of the crew, she would try and use her limited telepathy over to get them to if it worked go still, go quiet, and shuffle backwards and away from everything.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     (By working together) The shirtless man offers remaining calm as the tensions flare all around him. (We can make use of what each of our groups is strongest at and lesson eachothers faults) He's a calm but intimidating man who clearly has never skipped a single leg or arm day in his life.

     There's a small easing of the tensions somewhat as the man speaks no one noticing a few of the lowlifes managing to be taken out by the quick thinking of M.

     (We outnumber the police in this town ten to one with our combined numbers) He pauses moving his hands out to either side. (And not too long ago all of us were part of one collective, one homeland) He motions to each of the gathered figures his own guards standing watch from the catwa- Where are his guards? He pauses and looks around from one side to the other. The guards who were standing on the catwalk when his speech began are now nowhere to be found

     (Where the hell are my men?) He shouts out at the top of his lungs looking from one side to the other as he stamps his feet.

     A cloud of smoke errupts in every direction as a lone figure slams through the roof at hypersonic speeds landing in the center of the room, the dustcloud making it impossible to make out any details as Mafia members open fire from all directions on the man still stood unaffected in the center.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Well this is lovely. She has a short period before the gangs all learn that they can play nice together or get pissed off and go on a killing spree. The police charging in here would make for a bloodbath, the gangs shooting themselves up would make for a bloodbath.. And if there were any other capes in the area about to drop in here they would have done so already. Which means she's on her own trying to defuse something well outside of her experience..
    Monet would go to tap each of the men on the back of the head with a finger, going to drop them with a twist of her fingers.. At least one less thing to handle. Now think..
    Then everything goes to hell as someone goes to charge in and a smokebomb goes off. Smokebomb, not escalating to lethal weaponry.. Yet. She has a limited frame fo time to act here and she has no idea whom has initiated this. Hero.. Vigilante.. Her lack of knoweldge of the area is a deficiency.
    Monet is going to charge in. Punching is always an effective way to resolve issues. So she's going to try and slam her way in as the smoke cloud goes up. Moving to try and hit from behind and go for quick body blows to her targets to hopefully bludgeon and incapacitate them, then quickly withdrawing at superspeed before too many guns could point her way.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The figure in the smoke starts things off non-lethally. A fist to the gut here, one to the face there, and then suddenly with out warning a massive beam of energy tears the one who'd been doing all the talking a brilliant tire sized hole through his chest. The man coughs up blood near where Monet had just been standing, and reaches a hand down to the hole in his chest before falling over onto the ground dead on the spot.

     The figure in the smoke swings his arm around facing another of the Mobsters present and a brilliant orange glow emanates from the smoke. He throws his gun to the ground and holds up his hands only for the glow to shine brighter.

     There is gunfire everywhere and the only visual of the man in the fog as the rounds bound and ricochet off of his military grade power armor is the bright orange glow of the wrist mounted laser weapon and the bright red glow of the line of light on his visor.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
non lethally does not narrow it down,b ut it makes it much simpler to operate with. Monet is going to try and fight her way through goons. The sudden light-beam that goes through the body of one of the men splatters her all over, soaking her in gore. One arm of her's is in a sling which makes it all the more undignified as the blast would blind her partially. Then she's seeing the man in military grade power armor..
    And then she's going to focus on him, yelling, "STOP!" And then goes to try and unleash a powerful psychic blast at him. Powerful by Monet's standards, at least. Against a normal person? Perhaps. Given ehr generally untrained and low powered state, agaisnt anyone who could resist it to a degree it would not even slow. Of course, her yelling to announce her position also probably means all the gunfire in the area will split up to also shoot at her now that she had announced her own presence..

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The figure is about to fire when the shout comes through causing him to turn his attention. The cold calculating visage of a pure war machine. It's done up in brilliant red and white with smooth angles and an almost alien design to its every facet. The visor is rounded with a mirror polished finish that hides the operator that lone red glowing line in the center of where the forehead would be still glowing as he makes his turn.

     Dmitri wasn't expecting to be psychically attacked, it wasn't in the briefing at all. As such he's thrown high in the air by the force of the blast kicking on his rocket boots to stabilize himself. The figure still hasn't said a word as he hovers mid air the brunt of the rounds still going towards him as he charges up his other hand and fires both on a much lighter setting sending goons flying injured but alive towards the ground.

     Subordinates rush to the side of their downed leader attempting fruitlessly to patch him back together, One of them ducks his head down onto the corpses shoulder sobbing. He has no idea what else to do.

     Some of the gunfire turns on Monet aimed haphazardly as the goons proceed to fight for their life seemingly in a state of confused chaos.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
And Monet has no immediate idea what is going on. Just that all she has here is momentum. And that the man in power armor that was attacking the group (that she can't identify) definitely has enough weaponry on him to hold his own with the gangs. And that she only put him down for a second. So now she has to assess.. If she stops to think, then they'll rally, the man in the power armor will get up and start shooting..
    So Monet goes to draw upon herself, and goes to try and mass project to everyone in the room as best she can.. Going to draw in a breath, mentally evaluating the acoustics in the room, what damage had been taken so far, the atmospherics, humidity, temperature..
    And goes to YELL as loudly as she could, "STOP!" Using her telepathy to try and enhance it. Not able to use her mind to amplify it or project it, to make anyone have to actually obey it..
    But her trying to instead to as many people as possible if at all get them to be more audibly sensitive.. So if it worked it would hopefully be everyone is hyper sensitive to noise..
    Then a mic drop.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     The men hold their heads at the sound of the noise unable to really tell what is going on they hear the screaming in their heads in their minds their ears ringing and sensitive. And then comes the mic drop. That awful sound cripples many of them sending them to their knees, guns dropping.

     And yet Rocket Red floats there for a long moment in silence the rockets of his supporting his flight as he slowly begins to descend from on high down towards the ground. His visor is partially covered in blood, but as he lands there's a streak of light that washes across the visor and the blood on it vanishes completely.

     "Hokey Smokes that was some loud yelling." He lifts up his hand towards his ear motioning as if digging ear wax out from his ear before realizing that he's still wearing a helmet. The voice is cheery and friendly with a thick russian accent. "Good job on the disabling there comrade."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would just float in midair, watching the man floating in front of her, "Identify yourself immediately." Arm in a sling pressed against her body, blood dribbling down her face making her not look particularly intimidating.
    Not havign the slightest idea what was going on here was proving more of a hindrance than she had expected. Not bothering with the followup of 'what were you doing here'. Sort things out one at a time.
    Monet hovering with one arm in front of her defensively. "And do not /dream/ to think of me as your -Comrade-, Dostoevsky." Ready to charge in. But not donig so.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Dmitri, but close." The figure speaks quite plainly not at all taken aback by the harshness of the reception he's receiving. Though he does notice the bit of blood on Monet and adds. "Sorry for putting you in the... how do you say?" He pauses a brief second seemingly not taking this whole thing that seriously. "Eh, Splash zone."

     "Rocket Red Four at your service Comrade." There he goes again, calling her comrade, he can't help it really, it's built into his blood at this point in his life. "Do not worry it is all official business." as if that answers anything about the current situation.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Hovering in midair, Monet St. Croix would resist the impulse to let out a sigh and steel herself. The boy (she would refer to him as a boy no matter what his actual age was) would get her glaring. "And what pray tell is a member of the Russian Security Services doing in a gangland firefight in New York City? Engaged in a targeted assassination?" Oh, the circumstances don't remotely look like that.
    But the rather PO'd Monet will take any opportunity to vent just a little bit.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Da." Dmitri just comes out and says it. And he says it with a confidence like this should have been obvious even though it was couched in the shadow of breaking up of a gangland meeting. He looks around from one side to the other counting out bodies before he lays eyes on the four gang leaders downed on the ground.

     He doesn't speak another word as he floats there thinking over what his next move might be. He's so oddly calm, confident, and friendly that it may just be a little unsettling. There's no anger in his head no shock, he's of the mindset that this is just another day at the office.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
    If she were in a better mental state now Monet might be unnerved by how calmly it was said. "-Naturally-." Which meant that things had gone from the level of 'whether she should care' level of things as when security services got involved, it meant that the State Department would, which made it far outside of her 'why do I care' zone.
    "So what exactly was the purpose of your assignment here /Comrade/? And what was the methodology of the neutralization of your objective?" Pragmatism won out. She wasn't going to pull psychically anything useful, but hopefully someone so conditioned might be very well willing to give useful information.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Ex-soviet officers looking to build a criminal empire using former army assets?" Dmitri asks. "It kind of leaves a bad taste in the mouth of many." He adds answering his own question as he walks over towards one of the downed leaders. "Better to handle it before it becomes issue da?" He clasps his hands together and brings them back apart shrugging his shoulders.

     "Besides, makes city better place to live." He looks down towards the downed figure that's still clutching at his ears and considers for a long moment if he shouldn't just send a blast through the mans head and be done with it. "Should be thanking me."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Oh lovely, now it involved all these little issues such as international law, desertion, the military justice system.. And sending a child in power armor to perform a targeted assassination in the middle of a city (which she would still refer to Dmitri as mentally despite him being more than triple her own age). Migraine level.
    "Then you have performed your mission, /Comrade/." This was getting lvelier and lovelier as she would feel a vein throb. Becasue? Technically he was right here. Monet St. Croix would grimace despite her attempts at not doing so.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     Dmitri reaches down to the man on the ground and hikes him over a shoulder. The figure still too zoned out to understand exactly what's going on around him. Dmitri begins to hum jingle bells as he works just walking across the battlefield as if there were nothing here that could truly hurt him. After all he was wearing a full suit of some of the finest power armor on earth.

     "I will just be collecting these two, and be being on my way." He offers in a chipper and friendly tone of voice as he motions to the other downed figure. "As they say it is being a blast but I am being busy with many spinning dishware."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would clench her fist over and then hesitate. Tempted to probe the man's mind.. But deciding in the end it wasn't wholly worth the effort. "Then get out of here and on cleanup. And your superiors were sloppy if they let this situation escalate to this level in the first place." Thrown out there as an attempt at getting a 'last word' in.

Dmitri Pushkin has posed:
     "Da, on that we can agree comrade, they should have made the call much sooner." He hikes a second barely conscious man over his shoulder and begins to hover above the ground. "There's no reason to let a situation like this out of hand" He chuckles before just returning to humming jingle bells as he floats off into the air at a moderate speed.