9211/Adventures Under the Waning Gibbous Moon

Adventures Under the Waning Gibbous Moon
Date of Scene:	21 December 2021
Location:	Midtown
Synopsis:	Rich Rider and Roland Livingston team up to fight monsters, then do a bunch of talking.
Cast of Characters:	Roland Livingston, Richard Rider

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Roland Livingston has posed:
The night is overcast and drizzle falls from the sky. Not a great time to be out considering it's also freezing cold. But some folks don't think they have an option about it. Midtown is still kind of busy with people coming and going, lots of them doing holiday stuff like shopping or looking at trees and light displays. But not Roland.

Nope. The young Englishman is tracking a load of monsters that came into town aboard a train laden with produce from Texas. They've already killed a number of pets and there's no sign of them slowing down or stopping any time soon. The police asked Livingston to take a look at some of the scenes of the crime and he came to a quick conclusion based on his encyclopedic knowledge of the arcane: Chupacabras.

The monster hunting millionaire is geared up for combat. He wears Multicam Black fatigues, war belt, plate carrier and balaclava with a pair of night vision goggles over his eyes. Black assault boots are on his feet, black hard knuckled tactical gloves on his hands, a pistol holstered on his right hip and a sword on his left. Slung across his chest is a tan colored rifle. No one can say the man isn't prepared for the hunt.

He's currently on a rooftop studying a back alley where he'd managed to track his prey. Through his night vision he can make out a small houseless family, mom and two kids, going through a dumpster behind a fancy restaurant. Unfortunately, he also spots movement approaching them slowly and stealthily. About half a dozen quadrupeds the size of full grown labradors are hidden in the shadows, their brown fur matted and gross. Red eyes peer out from the darkness, huge, toothy mouths hang open, slobber dripping out. These things are definitely not domestic animals and they are definitely hungry for blood.

Richard Rider has posed:
Money is an awkward situation for Rich Rider. Earth not being a full participant in the intergalactic economy makes things difficult for the part-time Earthling. Fortunately, precious metals and stones occur through out the cosmos. Rich steps out of a jewelry store, stuffing some bills into his wallet after successfully selling off some gold.

He's wearing a stereotypical brown trench coat which matches his very brown hair and very brown eyes. Strong athletic build aside, he's unassuming as he walks onto one of Midtown's sidewalks.

"Alright, bucket list time. Pizza... or burgers. Hmm... Maybe traditional Italian." he mutters to himself, slipping his hands into his coat pockets to pull out a burn orange knit cap and tug it over his scalp.

Stopping for a moment in front of a fancy Italian restaurant, he skims the posted menu and frowns. "I don't want to empty my wallet in one go. Better get out of Mid-town for that."

Sighing, he rounds the corner into the alley deciding to take a short cut in a long walk toward a cheap burger joint. That's when he encounters the homeless family. He stares for a moment, watching the two kids and the mother. Christmas music lingers faintly in the air from the storefronts of the street.

He sighs again and pulls his wallet back out. He selects a few twenties and approaches the mother. "Hey. Merry Christmas. Why don't y'all go get a hot meal..."

His speech is interrupted as he notices red eyes in the darkness, his brow knits. "What the?" He steps between the family and the concealed beasts, shooing them. "Go now."

Roland Livingston has posed:
When the eyes in the darkness become apparent the mother of the family puts herself between them and the children before saying, "Thank you" to Rich and moving to try to get the heck out of the alley. Mom can tell something is wrong right away.

The critters don't leave. They remain still for a moment before one steps out into the light. There's a row of spines on its back, patches of fur missing and those red eyes are large and quite prominent. The lead chupacabra sniffs the air a few times and lets out a single "chuff". Apparently, that's the signal for the others to move. The creatures spring forward, running along the pavement before a couple of them run on the alley's walls to try to get around Rider to the softer, smaller mammals.

Suppressed gunfire rings out as Roland nails one of the monsters center mass. It stumbles to ground and fails to get up when it makes the attempt. The Englishman runs towards the edge of the roof and hops off, bouncing from one fire escape to the other on his way to the ground, "Run! I'll take care of these things!" He's not a superhero normally, but he's not about to watch a bunch of innocent folks get their blood sucked.

Richard Rider has posed:
Rich's expression grows grave as the creature emerges. His head snaps toward the rooftop as the 'tack' of suppressed gunfire gives a muffled echo in the alley. The unassuming man then begins to glow, crackling energy licking from the corners of his eyes.

His outfit abruptly reassembles itself. The trenchcoat metamorphs into a blue body suit with golden armor accoutrements. The knit gap expands over Rich's entire head before becoming a gold helmet with a Nova emblem presented prominently upon the forehead.

Raising a hand, nova force erupts from his palm in tendrils of blue energy and then knits into a force field right on the heels on the retreating family, rising up all the way to the rooftops of the nearby buildings. "The rats are bigger then I remember."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"These are chupacabras," Roland tells Rich as he watches the guy prepare himself for combat in a pretty cool display. "Nice uniform, by the way." He hops off the last platform to land on the ground, lining up his weapon's IR laser with a critter's head and smoothly cycling the trigger twice, putting the monster down.

The two chupacabras that were running along the walls slam into the force field Rider set up to stop them, both of them coming to complete stops as they fall to the ground. They're up fast, shaking off their confusion and turning towards the Nova Corps member, ready to pounce.

The two on the other side of the pair of would be heroes launch themselves through the air, one at each man. Their huge tongues loll out of their mouths as they silently gnash their teeth, prepared to puncture human flesh with their long, sharp fangs.

When the one starts coming for Roland he says, "Try not to let any escape. If they get a taste for human blood it can get very messy..."

Richard Rider has posed:
"Chupacabras?" Rich repeats with some doubt. The centurion nods in regards to the new mission parameter. "Confirmed, I'll focus on keeping the situation contained."

His head snapping toward the top of the alley, he gestures with a hand to expand the force field, sheets of blue forming walls to box in the conflict.

The pouncing creature receives a back hand that knocks it out of the air and sends it skittering across the pavement. "Would you consider these an invasive species to Earth? Or are they just poor critters in the wrong environment?"

Nova rises into the air and hovers at the center point of the box, allowing him to concentrate on maintaining the barrier without being as easy a pounce target for the goateaters.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I think they're invasive. They only showed up in the 1970s, if I recall correctly," Roland says as one of the creatures pounces at him. Lightning fast he releases his hold on his rifle and draws his sword, nearly slicing the beast in two. Turning, he runs the next through with his blade. The last two monsters run up the alley walls, looking for a means of escape. Thanks to the force field they don't get very far, though, and turn to face the guy on the ground, leaping at Livingston simultaneously!

Roland rolls to one side to allow the monsters to sail past him. "Damn things come up from Mexico or Puerto Rico sometimes. Not terribly difficult to kill, unlike vodyanoy or those people possessed by Native American spirits after eating people. I don't say the name of those things out loud, it apparently attracts them."

Richard Rider has posed:
Once Roland confirms the creatures are invasive, he gauges the conflict carefully to find just the right moment to strike.

It comes as Roland rolls out of the way to avoid tandem pouncing creatures. With Roland safely out of the trajectory, Nova raises a palm and launches a pair of blasts with collide with the monsters violently. They physical forms erupt outwards from the point of impact with the energy blast, painting the already filthy walls and pavement with viscera.

"Makes me wonder if they are of occult origin, or if some tourist dropped them off on the planet a few decades ago." He floats down to the ground and regards Roland. "Well fought. Heroic of you to track those things here. Glad someone took on the duty."

Roland Livingston has posed:
As the monsters are finished off with the potent blast of energy, Roland chuckles and pulls a black cloth from one of his cargo pockets to wipe the blood and whatnot from his sword. Once clean, the weapon gets returned to its sheathe. "I've got no idea where they came from," the young man says with a shrug. "My cousin meant to trap one alive for further study, but that never panned out."

He pulls off his goggles and balaclava to reveal his face and his mussed up hair, "Thank you. You're quite impressive, yourself. Flying and energy projection and all that." Then there's a shrug, "I tend to handle situations like monster attacks whenever I hear of them. Most people, unlike ourselves, are ill prepared to deal with these things. My family was in the monster hunting and mystical research business for hundreds of years."

Once he's got his right hand free he pulls the glove off of it and offers a shake to Rider, "My name's Roland Livingston. Would you care for a beer or something to eat? I did quite a bit of the rooftop running and worked up an appetite as a result." He looks down at his gear and then says, "I'll call my driver to come pick up my equipment so I don't have to try to explain why I'm a walking arsenal to the maitre'd."

Richard Rider has posed:
Rich returns his original appearance of brown trenchcoat and orange knit gap. He listens carefully to Roland and shrugs at the 'impressive' comment, "Tools for the job, just like your guns. In the end, I'm just a normal guy with some impressive toys. You on the other hand seem to have some significant skills, and I suspect are risking a lot more then myself."

He nods, "Well, still good you step up. I doubt anyone is paying you for the service, but if you've got a driver, maybe you don't need the extra scratch. And... sure, why not. I'll take a beer and something to eat. You have a preference?"

Accepting the handshake, he comments, "Call me, Rich."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Pleased to meet you, Rich," Roland says with a grin. "I try to bring the appropriate tools for whatever situation I find myself in. Chupacabras are pack animals so I need to be able to engage them rapidly from a distance, so I hunt them with guns. And thank you for noticing my skill. I've trained pretty much since birth to do what I do."

"I'm quite wealthy. I let police departments and such pay me for my arcane expertise and I teach a little bit, but money isn't a worry for me, thankfully."

Pulling out his phone he sends a quick text to his driver, then looks back at his new acquaintance, "I'm in the mood for Chinese, I would say. I've always felt that kung pao shrimp goes good with a nice lager."

Richard Rider has posed:
"Sounds delicious. I'm game." Rich responds, really happy for any Earth-side cuisine at this point. Earth flavors weren't very pervasive through out the cosmos.

"Since birth, huh? You like being in the family business or do you feel trapped by tradition?" Rich asks curiously if a little intrusively. Dealing with his own conflicts around duty and responsibility, he thought it might be interesting to see what the monster-fighting aristocrat had to say.

Roland Livingston has posed:
It doesn't take long for a Bentley SUV to pull up to the nearest alley entrance and turn down it. Roland gestures towards the vehicle and says, "Hop in back. I'll stuff this gear in the back and join you."

The young man heads for the car and the trunk pops open as he gets there. He calls out to the driver, "Impeccable timing, Josh." He unslings his rifle and slides it into the trunk, then his other stuff begins to join it.

Rich's question is a good one that makes Roland think for a bit, "I love what I do. I'm not sure if I'd do the same thing if I had been raised differently, but I imagine I would. Or I'd join the service or something. I like knowing that the world's a little safer for regular folks because of what I do."

Richard Rider has posed:
Rich takes the direction easy enough and crawls into the back of Bentley as he listens to Roland's explanation. "Guess you were born with the hero bug." Rich chuckles in amusement.

"I think might have chosen a quieter life myself, but you can't choose the cards you are dealt, and I'd feel pretty damn guilt if I just stood by and let others get hurt while I could do something about it. Is what it is, you know?" He comments idly.

"So where do you find Chinese and a good lager these days?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Must have been," Roland replies with a grin to the 'hero bug' comment.

"I understand better than most, I'd imagine." All of his tactical gear off and stowed, he presses the button to close the trunk lid and joins Rich in the back of the SUV. "Chinatown, at least the one in Manhattan, has become somewhat gentrified. Luckily there are still some good places to eat down there."

"Actually... Josh, you're from Manhattan, please take us to your favorite Chinese place that serves beer." Roland instructs the driver with a smile before turning back to Rich. "How long have you done what you do, with flying and whatnot?"

Richard Rider has posed:
"Ah, ask a local. Wise move." Rich approves of the tactic.

He hums at the question, "I guess its been close to a couple of decades. I do... most of my flying out there."

Pointing upwards toward the sky, "There's a whole community of innocent and decent people out there among the stars. Fighting their own horrors. I had one of the best tools to win that fight land in my lap when I was a teenager. Guess, you could say, I'm a bit of a space cop."

"So has monster hunting been the family business for multiple generations or just a couple?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
The Bentley safely pulls out into traffic and Roland peels off his fatigue top to reveal a black commando sweater beneath it. Between it and the camo pants he can kind of pass for a civilian type again.

"Space cop? That sounds like one hell of a job," the adventurer says with a chuckle. "Well, if you ever need someone to consult on the arcane, I don't charge terribly much and I end up dealing with it myself much of the time." He produces a metallic business card and offers it over. "It's damn good of you to take on all the horrible things that threaten folks out there."

The last question gets a laugh, "Multiple generations. Going back to the time of the Crusades. The first Roland Livingston was a knight who was... sharing a body with an alien entity called the Guide. The Guide was quite good to us, in exchange we kept him up to date on all the magical happenings on Earth. Sir Roland had a bunch of children, some of them went on to become knights, others scholars. By the time I was born all Livingstons were expected to be both warriors and academics, at least where the study of the arcane comes in."

Richard Rider has posed:
"Ha. I guess it is." Rich comments in response to the adventurer. He nods along as he learns a little more about the Livingstons and accepts the business card.

"Takes many people doing their own part. Quite a few mighty individuals out there and here fighting the good fight." He whistles, "That's one hell of a family tradition. The Guide? I'm not familiar but... I think I can relate. I have a similar relationship with an entity. Though sometimes its a royal pain. in the ass."

There is a pause. "Warriors and academics? That's a high standard. I can't say I'm much of the latter. Sometimes I wish I had that opportunity, but... learned most of what I know on the job."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'm pleased that so many people are willing to risk everything for others," Roland says with a grin. "If more people contributed to making the world, or worlds, less dangerous then think about how much better things could be for regular folks."

Then he nods, "Not sure where the Guide is from, but he returned home a couple years ago." There's a moment where he stops speaking and shrugs. Then he goes on, "Many professions work like that, even those that require an education. You learn what you have to do by doing under the supervision of someone who has been at it for a while."

Richard Rider has posed:
"Ah now... if only I had had decent supervision in those early years. A little too much trial and error in the beginning. Didn't help I was a rotten teenager." He offers a big smirk and seems intent on continuing the conversation but then pauses briefly.

He frowns and opens the door, "I'll have to find you another time for that beer and Chinese. I'm getting called in. Such is the life. Space cop away...."

There is an abrupt flash of light as his street clothes once more transform into his Nova uniform. A split second later, he's a streak of blue in the sky. Minutes later, there's a sonic boom as he turns up the acceleration and heads out into space. Super intelligences do not wait on mere mortals for long.