Owner	Pose
Shredder	The Bronx has more than its share of small time gangs. They hassle the local population. They rob stores. The Golden Pistols are one of them. Recently, they started to try to move into Brooklyn territories even. Their new leader Sticks Carrington fancies himself a crimelord, though it's most certainly delusions of grandeur. Wannabe crime lords can be more dangerous though. They do things to try to prove themselves a threat, where true masters of the craft feel no need to flaunt it.     They upgraded recently, taking residence in one of the warehouses on the Northern edge of the Bronx. They even replaced the street light's bulb so that they'd have a better means of watching for anyone who might try to sneak up on them. A CCTV system they ripped off of another business has been installed. They are really moving up in the world.
Leon O'Malley	Where gangs lurk, monsters soon follow. Coming in from on high, the Spider Wolf(TM pending), comes to land on top of the recently fixed light, hands coming up into makeshift binoculars as they scout out the building's exterior, "So, after this, I'm thinkin' chinese?...Oh c'mon, it's just some street toughs, why worry?...Yes I see the camera, we've got a good twelve seconds before it swivels to us-jump!" And with that the singular duo leap from the light on to the warehouse's wall, slithering their way up to the roof and silently creeping towards the skylight for better recon.
Shredder	The music is blaring inside, rap music eliciting all the things the singer would do to the police. But through the skylight, there is not a lot other visible. Nobody is moving around. There's a movie projector playing a pirated version of a recent release, but nobody is on the couches watching it. There is one thing though. A dark red smear that starts in the center of the viewable area, and moves across the old concrete to a door that's on a side office room.
Leon O'Malley	The eyelike marks on the Wolf's mask make an approximation of a confused expression. He reaches down, fingers elongating into claws, and carefully slices the glass pane by the window latch. He then reaches to pull the glass free and....it's not cut through properly. With a grumble, he tries again, then a third time. After that, he simply sighs and puts his fist through it to the bicep and hops down to the floor, defensively stanced as he glances around, slowly lowering himself to a knee to check the smear for what it is, and a rough guess on how old it is...
Shredder	The blood streak is fresh enough that it's still wet, the door is shut. But from the ground level, it's clear that this is not the only sign of violence. There's another spatter against the wall. The current track ends on the music. The end of the playlist. The movie continues to play on the wall, and from within the office there's a noise. Someone's moving in there. A grunt of pain. Signs that at least someone is still alive.
Leon O'Malley	The Wolf rubs their fingers together, the blood absorbing into the blackness of the suit within moments. At the sounds of grunting, their head snaps to attention, a tendril shooting out to the ceiling in front of the door and zipping them over, coming to silently rest on the ground next to the office's door, another tendril slithering forth as the previous one retracts, and snaking under the door to peek through, serving as an additional eye for the eldritch horror.
Shredder	Bodies. about twelve of them, are inside the office. The noise comes from one young man who looks to be quite mortally wounded, blood has soaked his shirt and pants, and he's fumbling with a revolver. He's slapped it down onto an old desk, and shaking hands are knocking the .357 rounds out of a box. One by one, he loads them into the revolver, clearly desperate and afraid.
Leon O'Malley	The tendril quickly takes in the surroundings, then slithers amongst the carnage until it's almost touching the terrified banger. Just as he spots it, it strikes like a viper, snapping onto, and then around, the gun, and ripping it from his hand with inhuman strength, whipping it off into a far corner before flattening and retracting like a whip as the door opens, the Wolf stepping in, "Huh, thought that would'a been locked."     They say with a horrifying demonic overlay as they confidently stride towards the dying man, "Keep calm, or you'll bleed out. Just lie back and focus on explaining what happened until the ambulance gets here." From Captain America, that might've been comforting. From this mass so dark it practically absorbs light save a bizarre spider emblem and white eye-esque markings on it's face? It'll be a wonder if the mere sight doesn't finish him off.
Shredder	The young man screams as the gun is ripped away, and clenches his teeth and a few other things in terror as Wolf enters. "I don' wanna die, what're you, who're you? I tried ta be good, you the devil?" he asks in rapid succession. "Just get away from me! Oh jeez you're Venom, you that Venom guy, don't eat me can't you see this sucks enough right now?" He clutches his wound, which appears to be a stab wound of some sort.
Leon O'Malley	The Wolf blankfaces at the torrent of terrified questions, "We dunno who that is...What do you mean that sounds familiar?...We'll figure that out later." Lucky you, nameless goon, you got one of New York's schizo heroes! Another tendril shoots forth, pressing into the man's stab wound and pressurizing it. Somehow, it's really not that painful, just kind of numbing.     "We're not going to eat you...Probably. Calm down, and tell us what happened, and we'll even call you an ambulance. Sounds good, right? Plenty of morphine and antiseptics, just a, snrk, gutspill away." A cellphone seems to melt out of the Wolf's hand, a quick emphasizing shake given the thug's direction.
Shredder	The thug hyperventilates a little, and then grunts, anticipating the pain that turns out to be a more numbing event. "Oh man, you a lifesaver," he says. "Sticks wanted to move into Brooklyn, thought we'd challenge the Purple Dragons over there. We had a couple of tussles, nothin' big. This stone cold girl. Couldn't 've been even out of school. Girl was young man, like, seventeen, sixteen. She came in here, bunch'a ninjas, just without warning, just killed everybody. Said we needed to stay outta Brooklyn, and she was making sure nobody else got the same idea as us. I dunno if they got hired by the Dragons, or what, but it's some serious shit man!"
Leon O'Malley	The Wolf dials up the phone, narrowing it's eye markings at the mention of ninja, "These ninja...Can ya describe em?" Their head turns away slightly as the phone picks up, going through the standard address giving, "...Yeah, thanks, and gonna need a few meatwagons, lotta bodies here. Oh, and a cop car, too....Yeah, just the one. Bye." They then hang up as the distressed call center worker tries to stop them, "Sorry about that, go on..."
Shredder	"They were frickin' ninjas man! Like the black get-up and everything. We didn't even stand a chance. The girl, she was like some asian, had a red scarf, some like metal shinguards and shoulder pads or somethin'. She was little, like five foot or somethin'. Never knew somebody that tiny could be so scary."
Leon O'Malley	The Wolf rubs it's chin, "Coincidence?...I dunno, maybe, this is a weird city...Ya got a point there...Ok-Ok, I'll ask." They refocus their gaze on the thug, "Any chance they mentioned anything that'd give a lead on where they're going? Anything at all?...Aside from a laundromat, blood won't clean itself off."
Shredder	"No, but she took Sticks with her," the man grunts. "I'm guessin' to the Purple Dragons place. I didn't think they had money to hire people like her. The Dragons are in Brooklyn, the old Eastside Warehouse has a basement in it. Not too many got that. Some business still stores in it, but they just meet there like they own it anyway."
Leon O'Malley	The Wolf slowly nods as the sirens get near, "Brooklyn, Eastside Warehouse, basement. Got it. Keep that wound compressed and try not to move, I give it about five minutes before they're in the building. When you hear the doors open, start yelling." Before the thug can answer, the tendril retracts and the monster is leaping through the window, glass spraying out over the floor, and in a single motion, they're zipping up through the previously broken skylight, bound for Brooklyn.