Owner	Pose
Peter Parker	Superheroes complicate EVERYTHING. It used to be, back in the good old days, that you didn't know many interfering superheroes. The word on the street told you where they operated, and you planned accordingly. These days, with the new masked faces, you never knew where they might show up. Tonight, though, this area was clear, and it was time to do business. John Franks, an underboss five levels below the real force rising in New York, was negotiating a purchase of untraceable assault rifles to issue to the soldiers. Low-profile Heckler and Koch MP7 assault rifles capable of handling AP ammo. Ten crates, fifteen rifles in each. A nice payday for the fixer who set it up. All that was left is waiting for the supplier to show up so business can be done...
Cecily Winters	Any number of crossed factors bring Cecily to this deal tonight. Forces pulling in opposite directions, converging with those who would see harm done to her with those of good moral fiber hoping to see justice done. Regardless, the fox is wheeling a van labeled 'Brooklyn's Best Pizza', lights off, into the warehouse. Inside, packed full of crates, the contraband sits, waiting for its buyer.     With a sigh of resignation, she cuts the engine, pursing her lips, and opens the door. As always, she's dressed professionally, skirt and jacket pressed and smooth, tails fanning out as her shoes hit the cracked concrete beneath them. "Right, then. Who ordered the family meal?" she asks, voice cool and even.
Rave	Sometimes plans and stings are organized, beautiful things by experts and masters of the vigilante craft. Other times? It was outright dumb luck. Rave didn't know Cecily was out and about dealing or busting, and the last the Fox knew the Neon Bluenette speedster was at a gig, singing and spinning tunes. However, the rougher establishment had come to a close a little earlier thanks to a small brawl, so now she was out for a 'patrol' on her protracted way home. A streak of light, the gathering seemed to have caught the girl's attention as she zipped to the edge of the opposite roof, light dispersing to reveal the young woman still dressed for her namesake she'd left in that short skirt, net shirt and bikini top underneath. Not exactly a 'super suit'!
Peter Parker	Franks checked his watch. Ten seconds to go time. Spider-Man checked the clock in the augmented-reality HUD in his mask. Ten seconds to go time. Spider-Man had been working this neck of the woods when he came upon a meth-head accosting a citizen for his wallet and (fake) Rolex. He had gotten EXTREMELY talkative once he realized the only ones cutting him free of the webbing would be the cops, and he had sung like Pavarotti. If, you know, Pavarotti was 200 pounds thinner and twitched constantly. Spidey looked over the parking lot of the warehouse. He was waiting for the truck, the ones sent by the bent-nose Russians from Little Odessa. Apparently Ak-47s were SO 20th century. When they showed up, the transaction would begin. And then he would descend on the deal like a Karen cutting the line. And hopefully about as annoying, too. He looked down as the panel truck drove into the courtyard, watching the two men with shotguns approach the truck. One of the men looked Cecily over. "They didn't say the driver'd be a fox." He smiled. "So, did Petrov deliver everything, or did the old Russkie hold back like he did the last time?"
Cecily Winters	"They didn't say the help would be so generously kind," Cecily takes the 'fox' as a compliment, not just a frank appraisal of her obvious attributes. She doesn't answer immediately, instead she moves to the side panel of the van and grasps the handle. With a click and a tug of feigned effort, she huffs and pulls it open with a grunt, looking like she's straining. Straining to make it look like it's hard work. She jerks a gloved thumb to the crates, stacked in neat rows. The MP7's are compact enough, after all.     "Did old Franks bring all the cash this time? I heard the last shipment was held back because cash on delivery implies all the cash is there," she bluffs. She might have the confidence and the ice-cold tone but she doesn't have all of the information. It's a gamble, but she gives the mook the kind of stare over the rim of her glasses that a teacher would give a failing student. Remember, children. There's no stupid questions, just stupid people.
Rave	A streak of light wasn't quite as subtle as a webline, but hopefully Cecily was suitably distracting for the would-be buyers as Rave zipped closer. Luminescent eyes widen a little more at the sight of the tailed woman handing off the guns...but they could talk about it later. Having approached from the 'mook' side of the gathering, Rave presses her back up against the edge of the wall, peeking out once more as she weighs up options and approach. She was faster than a bullet....but those guns had a -lot- pf bullets.
Peter Parker	The man shook his head. "Maybe she's one o' them furries. Din't know Petrov hired them." The other man shook his head. "Franks has the money. Come on in. You know the drill. We check the merchandise, give Franks the all-clear, you give him the keys, he gives you the briefcase and the keys to another vehicle. Follow me." The guy steps away and begins walking towards the entrance to the warehouse. Spider-Man frowned. The driver was supposed to be a loyal Russian soldier. So where the deuce did the fox-girl come from? He moved along the side of the warehouse, then checked the area. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of something, but it was there and gone. Must have been his imagination.
Cecily Winters	If Cecily caught notice of Rave or Spider-Man, it would have to be by sound. The bespectacled vixen's ears do flick, but her eyesight is lacking, hence the specialized accessory. She rolls her eyes, "Yes. I'm a furry. The Russians sponsor a surprising number of conventions. You wouldn't believe the sorts of things they can traffic, what with the crowds and the size of the mascot suits some of the more enthusiastic patrons dress up in," she says almost deadpan. It might just be her default sound as far as the thugs know.     She nods, though, knowing the drill, and follows the man inside, tails waving behind her. The fox does look unarmed, but if she gets patted down, she is equipped with a shoulder holster. Not that there's anything else incriminating on her. "Do try not to scuff the paint..."
Rave	There were the guns, now she just needed to see the money...right? For Rave, she was still making a lot of this up as she went along. Noone handed her a 'basics of superhero' pamphlet, she just suddenly turned into a 'Neon rainbow of awesome' as she liked to put it. Smoothing her skirt out, there was another cautious peek out from behind the wall...then a flash of movement with a faintly fading contrail and she was behind a support now, trying to get closer. There was no mask on the girl, no disguise or anything like that. She truely looked like she'd simply stepped out of a nightclub and into this arms deal...but at least the thugs buying guns hadn't quite spotted her yet. Cecily -was- rather eyecatching from the tails alone.
Peter Parker	The thug walked Cecily into the warehouse. Men and women were walking around, moving crates and equipment. Apparently more than one deal is going down tonight. Franks eyes Cecily oddly, looking to the thug. "Who is this, Ethan?" Ethan, her escort looked confused. "The driver." Franks' eyes flicked to someone to Cecily's left, and suddenly a double-barreled shotgun is level at Cecily's head. "I know Petrov's drivers. I DON'T know you." He looked to Ethan. "And the reason she's HERE?" Ethan looked troubled. "The merchandise is there in the truck. Bogie's checking it out now, but everything looks legit so far." Franks looks back to Cecily. "We are going to VERIFY some things, Miss Fox. If you so much as TWITCH, I'll be hanging ALL THREE of your tails from my antenna." He doesn't look away. "Ethan, go help Bogie check everything. CALL ME when you verify." As Ethan leaves, Franks smiles without mirth. "I don't like surprises."
Cecily Winters	Cecily's eyes widen, ears lifting. She hadn't expected there to be so much acvitiy. Maybe that's why she was called in. It's hard to hide the look of surprise on her face, but she returns it to a look of exasperation when she's called out like that. "Someone takes a sick day and everyone's up in arms suddenly..." she mutters quietly. There's a sigh and she keeps her hands visible, gloved as they are for driving and firearms handling. "My tails twitch on their own, and do kindly keep your hands off of them... Everything's there. One hundred and fifty units."     Her eyes close for a moment. Bide your time, fox. Wait until the money is up front.
Rave	Rave had a lot of things in her life: looks, superpowers and musical talent...what she lacks however, in this moment, is something she would call 'chill'. There was a gun at Cecily's head, someone was about to shoot Ms. Winters! A calmer hero might have expected Cecily to be biding her time...Young Rave was not quite so calm. It was damn near a flash of blue, a surge of heat and the sound of impact as the rapidly accelerated girl threw her speed into a haymaker punch and just sort of -appeared- in the room. It hurt her hand, but it probably hurt shotgun guy a lot more. No plan survives contact with the blueberry it seems! "Back OFF!"
Peter Parker	Franks BLINKS as Mike gets his jaw sent to Yonkers. Well, not really, but it is completely dislocated. Mike utters a disjointed yell, both barrels of the shotgun going off, but going skyward instead of into Cecily. The buckshot opens up a hole in the roof five feet from Spidey's feet, and he jumps in the other direction. Well, crap in a hat. Why does he make a Plan A, anyway? Franks draws a Colt .45 as workers drop what they are doing and grab their own weapons. He is about to draw down on Rave when the high windows suddenly explode inward from the south side of the warehouse... And a familiar guy in red-and-blue longjohns swings in. "HEY! You ain't the GIRL SCOUTS!"
Cecily Winters	Cecily blinks. And almost misses it. That familiar blue blur makes her eyes widen afterwards, and her ears lift. Then her arms lift, hands covering her ears as quickly as possible. That double-barreled blast nearly deafens her and she drops to one knee for a moment, gritting her teeth. "Oh bloody hell!" she growls. And then Spider-Man appears. Well, at least the escalation doesn't mean she's going to be put full of holes. But two others might.     "Plan B then," she sighs, wincing, ears still ringing. "Get down!" she calls out, leaping for Franks, pretending to be interested in his safety as she pounces him to the concrete, tails fluttering like shining banners behind her. There's a lot more strength in her legs than she'd let on, and she can -really- move.
Rave	There were guns pointed at her...and somehow that was less concerning. Of course, she probably pissed off her fluffy protector...but she could make it up to her later! Then there was a Spider, and the thugs had even more to worry about! Rave herself was still a blur, a flash of laser-hardlight slamming into the hand on one thug drawing on her before she zipped behind the next and kicked out, aiming to topple him over. It wasn't fancy, but she was still new to this!
Peter Parker	These were armed soldiers, ready to act. But they were not expecting a violent blur and the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Annoyance. A few, who were obviously not paid enough to deal with this nonsense, drop what they are doing and run like heck. The others point weapons and begin firing, mostly at Spider-Man. Franks looks up at Cecily, grimacing. She was the first wild card in all of this, and then the two other annoyances showing up...it was too coincidental. And Coincidence were part of the same mental file as the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and an honest politician. As in, THEY DON'T EXIST. "You BITCH..." he hisses and reaches for his pistol, the hand searching for it where it had fallen to the pavement. Spidey isn't as fast as Rave, but he does have something she doesn't...the ability to NOT be where the bullets go. He lands on one guy, punching him out while aiming the other arm at someone coming up on his left, and in the next moment, he is coverd in webbing and toppling to the floor.
Cecily Winters	If anything, Cecily is focused on keeping Franks down so stray bullets or Rave's blasts don't hit him. He's the perp she's trying to bag for her friends on the force anyway. "Being part canine, that is surprisingly apt, a pity you lack eloquence," the fox growls, grabbing for Franks' wrist before he can snatch up his pistol. She's fast, and strong, showing that she's more of a mutant than a furry. And as if Rave's lights weren't bright enough, the vixen's arm is suddenly wreathed in flame.     First degree burns are better than a dead man, and the white-blue fire spirals down her arm and up his, ghostly flames singing cloth and licking at flesh, searing it but being much more painful than actually causing permanent injury. "Stay down, and bite your damn tongue," she hisses. Her ears twitch and swivel, catching the sounds of battle around her, and she spares a glance up to make sure Rave is okay.
Rave	It's a little step and twist, weaving through the slow ballet of ballistic projectiles, even if more of them are pointed towards the 'Menace' with the webs. Cecily's flare was brilliant and impressive, a complimentry mix of flares and streaks of glowing neons slamming against thugs and disarming where she can. Aside from bruised fingers, so far she was okay!
Peter Parker	Spider-Man's HUD picked off the number of combatants. The counter had started at 21. It went to 17 when four opted to run. After taking out two, he looked up and expected to see 13. Instead it said 8. He blinked and it said 6...5...3... "What The...?!" he said aloud, looking around. He saw the fox-woman on Franks, then...some kind of blue blur. He stood, looking quite puzzled.
Cecily Winters	It's pure chaos. Usually the sort of chaos Cecily watches from afar. Despite things going tits up, she's at least maintaining some air of composure despite having a gun to her head and now a named thug trying to take her head off. And her tails. The threat to her tails would have been the last straw if she hadn't been trying to keep her cover.     Well, that's all out. Her arm still wreathed in flame keeps a death grip on Franks' wrist, but the fire is controlled enough to ignite only the one arm, the one sleeve, not quite a hungry enough flame to devour the rest of his clothes--or hair. Probably a blessing. Her other hand? It reaches into her jacket, yanking out a handgun. The fox sits up, knee pressed to Franks' chest, and double-taps on the nearest armed combatant. There's no blood to follow the impacts, hard rubberized riot rounds designed to bruise, fracture, and incapacitate but not kill.
Rave	The last man? There's a heavy blurring streak of light, but it wasn't a laser-bolt. Instead bare knees and a fluttering skirt are all he'd see before the leapinging speedster collided with his face. Finally, there was a chance to see the girl properly...climbing to her feet and adjusting her hair with an exhaled breath. "So...this is what you do with your downtime...hang out with Spider-man?....How -do- you know Spider-man anyway?"
Peter Parker	Spider-Man looked down at Franks, then sighed and webbed his lower body to the pavement, kicking the .45 farther away. "You can get up now, miss...whoever you are." He looks apologetically to her, then looks to the speedy girl and... Okay. That's unusual. "So...who are you two?"
Cecily Winters	"Winters," the fox says."Ms. Winters," she extinguishes the flame, though Franks' arm is going to need a serious submersion in ice water followed by some burn treatments to prevent scarring. She gives a little press of her knee into the man's sternum as she gets up, glancing here and there and snatching up the two brass casings she'd left from her only pair of shots. Rave is just too fast.     There's a moment taken, Cecily dusting herself off and straightening out her skirt, brow quirking at Rave. "I do wish I could say that I rub shoulders with other high-ticket superheroes on a regular basis," she says softly, despite her little adventure with the Avengers recently. "I'm a security consultant," she answers the masked man. "And this is..."      The vixen trails off, a small smirk rising at the corner of her mouth. She can let Rave make her own introductions. In fact, while she lets the neon heroine do so, she glances around at what's left of the scene. Quite a few busts tonight.
Rave	Rave herself was still glowing, but it was a luminescent pulse through her hair and within her eyes as she straightened up and dusted her skirt off. How come all the other heroes seemed to make it look easy to punch out thugs and crack jaws...her fingers still hurt! Or...at least they would, until the electic lighting that illuminated the warehouse pulsed and wavered, the light they emitted seeming to coalesce into an almost fluid form that drew in towards Rave and flowed into the bare skin of her arm. Swelling faded, fingers waggled and neon light swirled around Rave as she twirled, inspecting herself for any harm before finally turning to look at Spider-man and grin. "I'm Rave," she offers, giving Cecily a little sidelong glance and a roll of her eyes at the comment back. Perhaps she was a little jealous about that particular airtime, or at least she was playing the part of it. A beat, a tilt of her head, Rave looks back to the webslinger. "So...is it cool if I take a selfie with you?"
Peter Parker	Spider-Man nods to Miss Winters and says, "Well, you certainly can hold your own. And..." He smiles slightly to Rave under the mask. "Between the two of you, I probably shouldn't have bothered." He chuckles, then adds, "Well, as long as you hold off on posting the selfie to social media for one hour, I will consent. By that time, the cops should be here and everyone will be in custody." He taps his noggin, then says, "Want me to make the call?"
Cecily Winters	"Any and all help is welcome. I did not expect to be so... outnumbered..." Cecily exhales a sigh, shaking her head. "Either the intel was bad or I was set up. I would have been in here by myself if either of you hadn't shown up. Believe me, nothing here quite went according to plan..." she muses grimly, looking around the scene. Scattered firearms and scattered goons and a whole lot of mess to clean up.     Her tails flick, agitated, "There should have been PD support, once the deal went down, to track the delivery once it left... but things got a bit heated..." she eyes Franks, with the burns she'd inflicted on him.     "Do feel free to make the call. I don't plan on going anywhere until the mess is handled..."
Rave	"I mean I...Yeah..." Rave begins, a little whince offered. It -was- her that jumped the gun after all and broke the plan when she thought Cecily was about to be gunned down. A little shift in her stance, she actually turns the phone hesitantly over in her hand and lookes sheepishly towards the fox. "I didn't know what you were up to and I thought the mook was going to blow your head off so..." she trails off, clearing her throat and forcing a smile that actually looks suprisingly convincing as she sets up the selfie in a quick 'zip' and press. Taken before most people would even know it had happened, already she was stuffing the device back into her bra. It wasn't like the rest of her outfit had pockets after all. "I suppose someone should call the cops," the younger woman finally speaks. "If they haven't already been notified from someone who heard all the shooting."
Peter Parker	Spider-Man nods. "I have a comm network. It's notifying the cops, giving them the details, and set up a GPS location. I also sent a text to Captain George Stacy. He is a hardcase, and when he breaks wind, only dogs can hear it, but he's the most honest cop I know."
Cecily Winters	"Better geared than I am. I only have audio recording, for later playback," Cecily muses, shaking her head. She casts a light, sympathetic glance to Rave. "You didn't know, and things didn't go the way I was told they should go either. As long as you're not hurt. You're my job, at least some days," she states. There's a small smirk at what Spidey's saying, and she casts a nod towards him. "Something doesn't smell right with this and I would certainly prefer an honest cop over a dozen others at this moment."
Rave	The late-teen Heroine nods, folding her arms and shrugging her shoulders, although she cannot resist a little snerk at Spiderman's joke about the police captain. A clearing of her throat, she's left to nod at Cecily's words and bite her lip. "So if the cops are meant to be on their way and these guys are all wrapped up, that means we should be heading out, right?"
Peter Parker	Spider-Man holds up a hand. "Probably best if you two give statements. We need to provide as much as we can to make sure these guys go to jail and STAY there. Stacy and I are on good terms. I trust him." He tilts his head as he hears sirens. "Let's step over to the entrance, you two." As he walks, he looks to Cecily. "Rave's your client? How well is that working out for you?" He smiles a little at that.
Cecily Winters	"It's an honest day's work, more or less," Cecily states quietly to both of them. She shakes her head at Rave, and starts moving with Spider-Man towards the door. She checks her handgun on the way, setting the safety and holstering it under her jacket. She gently rests a gloved hand on Rave's shoulder, to draw her along.     "If you're going to play at being a superhero, working with law enforcement, at least to some degree, is encouraged. Having allies in the system will make it easier to do your work, and finding out who is on the take and who isn't can spell the difference between a night in holding and a night in a hospital..." she says quietly. Spidey's question earns a smirk and she considers her answer, scanning his mask for a moment.     "She's earnest. Eager. And quick. Rough around the edges but we're both learning about our... capabilities. Besides, she doesn't get into too much trouble and has a good heart. Just need to be sure she keeps it that way..." the fox says, almost fondly.
Rave	"I'm right here..." Rave pouts, the bluenette noticably blushing as she walks beside the others, a little nod however is taken at Cecily's advice at working with law enforcement. She probably should have organized such a thing herself by now, but then she still had a 'day job' of her own...and her studies at ESU...and she didn't exactly need a mask either. Perhaps that was why Cecily had been hired by her family to keep an eye on her. Closing her eyes, the woman inhales a soft breath before opening them again. "I mean...do we just leave now? I usually just wait till I see the cops turning up and then zip out of there."
Peter Parker	Spider-Man says with a little more concern in his voice than one usually hears from the Webhead. "We wait. It won't take long." A pause. "It's the responsible thing to do." Then the cop cars show up, including a Lincoln Town Car in beige. The driver's-side door opens, and a tall man in his 40's steps out. He's wearing a suit, a rather worn-looking one. He focuses on Spider-Man immediately, but looks to the others with a quizzical eye. "Spider-Man..." he begins, and there is an undercurrent of respect in that voice. "...what's happened here?" "Well, John Franks was brokering a deal to buy assault rifles. MP7s, by the sound of it. Miss Winters, here..." He indicated Cecily. "...is a security consultant, working undercover. She drove the truck in, made initial contact. The young lady, called Rave...she got involved out of concern for Miss Winters." Stacy nods. "Okay. You go and give your statement to Jackson while I talk to these two." Spidey nods, then nods encouragingly to the two women before heading out to the other plainclothes detective. "Captain Stacy, NYPD," he says by way of introduction. "I know the score. Minimal interaction. I get your initial statement and your contact info, and we can get you out of here without too much folderol. Now, Miss Winters...start at the beginning, leave nothing out."