Owner	Pose
Cecily Winters	The City is in as much disarray as ever, though not quite the same upheaval as the Attack on New York. The daily lives of most people outside of Mutant Town are unaffected, save for disruptions in utility service and a shift in the flow of traffic. It's late evening, said traffic is waning after rush hour. A grey sedan is in motion, heading for the inner city. There's a small issue, though, as an aggressive driver suddenly switches lanes, cutting the sedan off and forcing it to swerve onto an offramp, the driver inside cursing up a storm. Behind that sedan, a van follows behind.     The sedan slows as it passes through the intersection at the bottom of the ramp, turning the corner to seek another way back home. The van follows, and near an alley, another van suddenly pulls out in front, halting forward progress. The sounds of an angry New York horn blaring are heard, as the sedan is trapped between two vans. The honking is silenced, as the big sliding door on the van opens up, revealing armored figures. The car door opens as compact rifles come up, a woman with fox ears, tails, and a bookbag diving to the pavement as electrified rounds pepper the car. "Oh, not today...!" she grits her teeth and hisses, bolting for the alley. Her hand scrambles for her cell phone, and she puts out a call for assistance, pinging contacts at NYPD dispatch. Of course, with the snatching of an entire borough, it might be some time before unoccupied officers arrive, though police contacts might send out word to others who may be nearby...
Koriand'r	Phone calls get bounced to affiliated entities, one thing leads to another, and Starfire is scorching the sky as she blazes through it like a missile. Flying to a crime scene is always hard for her because human cities aren't laid out to be identified by sight from above, so she holds her phone in front of her, GPS open, until she reaches the reported coordinates. Her powerful alien eyes spot the assailants sweeping the alley with weapons drawn, but the early evening darkness prevents her from spottng them until she's landed and taken a street-level look at what's going on. A lot can happen before she notices them doing that odd, crouching walk military type do.
Cecily Winters	By the time help arrives, the alleyway is a crowded place. There's a van parked at both ends now, thick-walled unmarked box vans with sliding side doors. There's a large quantity of individuals, three teactically enhanced riot soldiers at each end of the alley with thick armor, opaque helmets, and what look to be automatic rifles at a glance. At a longer look, they look to have more extraneous pieces on them. A charge box. Glowing, reinforced capacitors. And when they fire, there's a sharp crack of electricity, far quieter than gunpowder. Their impacts leave zaps and the spiderwebbing of a brief burst of charge.     They seem to be moving slowly, cautiously, using leapfrog tactics and short bursts of fire. In the center of the alley there's a couple of large wall indents, the sort for storage, parking, and sanitation. The big green dumpsters have been pushed out, providing makeshift cover for a woman in a smart business suit. Skirt, vest, stockings, flats. The fox ears and fox tails aren't the only oddity, though, as the woman is hurriedly assembling a rifle. Her hands move quivker than a human, practiced motions, bolts and clamps locking into place, the scope removed and ironsights up.     "No vest.. no rocket launcher.. I swear, if I get out of this in one piece I'm not leaving home without a god damn anti-material rifle..." she hisses, ears flat and tails lashing about in agitation. She kicks a crate out to use the motion to draw the fire of one group and leans out of cover, firing a shot that's unsilenced, cycling the bolt in the blink of an eye, then firing a second before ducking back into cover. It's not an AT rifle but the first round staggers one trooper and the second blows through a shin, forcing the faceless form to the ground. Oddly, the exit wound is a splatter of dark blue, not red...
Koriand'r	Cyborgs? Starfire frowns. They may be related to Victor somehow, which, despite their villainy, is enough to blunt her anger from using serious force against them. She seizes a nearby trashcan and hurls it down the alley at the gunmen's backs and lifts off the ground to soar at the one she couldn't hit with the can for a mid-air tackle. Her face is twisted with grim resolve but is not literaly blazing with fury. Lucky for them.
Cecily Winters	Unfortunately, there's no identifying markings on either the gunmen or the vans. The only weird things about them are the unique rifles, and the blue blood. That trash can? Totally unexpected. The first one topples forward as his upper back is battered by a heavy blunt object, sending him falling forward onto his kneeling compatriot, who had been providing cover fire for the third's advance. A third that happens to be tackled unexpectedly by a flying Tamaranean. He's heavy. Bulky. The armor padded to shrug off some small caliber fire, but the impact and his weight knocks him off balance, driving him to the ground under Starfire's tackle.     It's an opening for the fox woman, taking some pressure off of her as she works on the other three, though the one she'd hit in the leg is firing from the ground now. "Thank you for the assist, dear!" she calls out over the 'spack spack spack!' of electric round impacts on dupsters and walls alike. She shifts to a knee, leaning around the corner and letting another pair of shots go, firing two rounds in quick, precise succession. One rips through the rifle held by one of the troopers, the second slams into the helmet of the one on the ground. The round is heavy enough to blow through the opaque visor, all indications afterwards pointing to the fact that the soldier is down permanently. The fox is not above using lethal force on these combatants.
Koriand'r	Starfire can get up from prone a lot easier than most people can. Flight is great like that. She lifts off her target horizonatally, adjusting in mid-air to upright, a foot planting between the fallen man's shoulders. Her fists ignite with green fire and her hair flames. "You will stop your attacks NOW," she commands, the girlish high pitch of her voice possibly undercutting the steel of her command.
Cecily Winters	It's pretty impressive. Graceful. The armored men aren't exactly nimble, either, their helmets upturning to regard Starfire with complete indifference. To them, she's another meta. Another target. That shouted command almost makes Cecily's head turn even, her ears perking up, back against the wall and Starfire in her line of sight. She calls to her, though, "They're not much for talking....!" she warns. True to her word, the three of them shift positions. The one who had fallen on his friend rolls onto his back, gun up, and fires at the fiery girl, as does the one who had been tackled. The third uses the opportunity to haul himself up off of the ground.     Behind Starfire, though, and to Cecily's ears, the sound of heavy boots hitting the pavement hard and fast can be heard. With suppressing fire from his remaining teammate, the rifle-less trooper chargese the fox's cover without a word. He rounds the corner surprisingly quickly, the vixen yelping in surprise as she brings her rifle up to shield herself from the fist coming down on her. "..ah...!" The impact sends her knees bending some and her shoes skidding on the pavement, her gun creaking as she is pushed back a few inches.
Koriand'r	Starfire snarls at the dirty snakes who would attack her from behind. She doesn't consider her anger hypocritical because she didn't outnumber anyone. She stomps hard on the fallen man's back to convince him to stay down and to launch herself skyward, trying to get away from the first volley so she can fire a few starbolts of her own, thrown with exaggerated overarm pinwheels, into the backbiters with their guns.
Cecily Winters	A hell of an -on- switch, it would seem, as those blasts are quite effective. The soldiers aren't the most maneuverable, and where the outer cloth and inner ceramic armor burns, the impacts of the bolts fracture plates and damage what lay beneath. The one who had been stomped on doesn't stay down, and the others, while smoking and slowed, mechanically raise their guns to the sky and send more electrified rounds skyward. Any leaking trickles of blue smell acrid and like chemicals.     Cecily is tangling with a heavier foe mere meters away, being backed into a wall, spending more time blocking and dodging blows than landing anything herself. She might be quick but the trooper is strong, her rifle useless so close. She drops it as she ducks a punch, the hit on the wall behind her leaving a dent. "Get... BACK...!" she snarls, shoving both palms into his armored chest and wreathing her hands in blue-white flame. There's a concussive burst as she channels as much fire as she can muster, shattering armor and scorching flesh, sending him flying backwards into a tumble. Her fingers smoke, her gloves scorched, but two versus six has turned more into two versus three or four now.
Koriand'r	A stomp from ground level didn't keep the robot down? Fine. Starfire, fifteen feet in the air and needing to move anyway because guns are surely being trained on her, drops onto his shoulders hard. She reactivates her flight powers at the last instant, 'pulling her punch' mostly so the impact doesn't sprain her knees, but that kick had to mean something. She twists on her toes to face the ones tangling with Cecily and conjures a starbolt the size of a volley ball but less intense than a smaller, more concentrated bolt. She flings it high in an arc. When it strikes the ground behind the cyborgs, it explodes.
Cecily Winters	Something gives, the joints of the armor, or the arms themselves, make a mixed sort of cracking and crunching sound at the kick. The cyborg twitches, head turning left and right, as if trying to figure out why its arms can no longer move. It leaves him down for the count, unable to really operate in a hostile manner. The starbolt explosion being the remaining gunma on Cecily's side sends him sailing forward, into the pavement. He's quickly approached by the fox, hands still smoking, as she pulls her handgun from her shoulder holster. There's no hesitation as she presses the barrel to the helmet and fires two shots at point blank, spraying the concrete with more chemical blueness.     The remaining two, battered by Starfire's initial barrage, but now standing on their own two feet, each pick a girl and unload on them, spraying the alleyway with flashing blue rounds of energy. The fox takes a few to the hip as she ducks behind a dumpster, growling as numbness spreads through her leg and torso, "Don't let them pin you down, dear...!"
Koriand'r	Starfire is a pretty big target. The taser rounds take her in the stomach and blow her backward off her useless legs. She topples to the ground, slowing her descent reflexively with her flight powers then realizing it would be smarter to be on the ground right now. She picks up one of the fallen cyborgs and uses its body as a shield while her legs twitch somewhere miles away from her.
Cecily Winters	The cyborg's body makes a great shield. Its weight is nothing to the super-strong Starfire, and the ceramic armor plating shrugs off the electrified shots hitting it without even the slightest twitch of the body beneath them. The soldier is at least the size of an average human male, bulked up further by all of the armor and gear. This close, Starfire could probably smell the chemicals--and some other unpleasant meaty sort of odor.     Cecily, lowering herself to the ground and getting dirt and dust all over her skirt, curses softly and leans around with her pistol. With the gun in both hands, she unloads several rounds, taking advantage of the damage Starfire had done to their armor with her bolts, slamming several bullets into cracks and gaps and hitting more vital places beneath. As one of the two staggers and begins to keel over, her gun clicks dry. Her target isn't down for the count completely, but he's having trouble bringing his rifle up as multiple wounds leak that blue juice. The remaining trooper supports the one still partially standing, starting to back up, laying down bursts towards dumpster and semi-human shield alike.
Koriand'r	Starfire's legs are still too numb to bear her weight, but staying here hiding behind a body isn't going to help anything. She lifts into the air again, not sure whether her toes are dragging the cement or not, the cyborg's husk still in front of her like a shield. It would be too risky and repetive to throw it, so she just soars at the cyborgs at the alley's mouth with the body raised to hopefully catch any slugs thrown her way before she can plow into one of them.
Cecily Winters	It's an effective tactic, beating one of these guys with the hulking weight of one of his compatriots. The humanoid shield crashing down on the one fully active combatant does the trick, sending him flat on his back in the alley, rifle skidding to the side. His heavily-damaged counterpart slumps over, trying to drag himself away through some limited self-preservation protocol. Back in the middle of the alley, a few more shots can be heard. Cecily, favoring one leg, dragging the other as numbness mixed with pins and needles shoots through her leg and side. But she's reloaded her sidearm, and is in the process of putting barrel-to-helmet and ensuring finality on the downed combatants, as if she were dealing with zombies.
Koriand'r	Starfire isn't normally inclined to chase fleeing enemies, but armed and injured foes who would do better to take a hostage than to keep running are a danger she can't ignore. Her legs are still gone, but she doesn't need them to fly. She gives chase with green-nimbus fists raised and attacks from behind if the cyborg continues to show her its back, firing punches from the shoulder.
Cecily Winters	Nothing remains in Cecily's immediate vicinity, at least nothing worth limping over to. Four shots. Two more fully-downed cyborgs. At least to the fox's satisfaction. She's gathering up her things, content that Starfire is able to handle herself with what's left. Likely easily. That said, the retreating soldier doesn't retreat any longer under the flurry of blows from the green-eyed alien and soon slumps down to the pavement. There's few sounds left now, really. Traffic and sirens in the far distance, the sliding of a foot as the fox drags herself around slowly, picking up the brass casings she'd spent from shooting, and grumbling at the state of her gloves.
Koriand'r	Starfire stands over her fallen foe, panting with an anger that hurts more than the spreading bruises from the bullets she took. She yells, "New York people! Starfire answers for your safeness! The invaders are defeated!" Maybe the people hiding inside local buildings heard that and feel better. That proclamation issued, she pulls out her phone and tweets something similar to the NYC Emergency account, then floats back into the alley to check on the not-human-lady.
Cecily Winters	Sometime during all of the fighting, when things were looking grim for the cyborgs, the vans had... left. Both ends of the alley are now open, and everything is just a mess. The exultant announcement of triumph earns a laugh from Cecily, and it's a genuine one, followed by a wince as she slumps down against a wall, sitting on a fallen barrel. "Hells..." she sighs, starting to take apart her rifle, good portions of it bent and cracked, some pieces even broken. As far as the closed windows above the alley and buildings nearby, the people that did hear the announcement after all of the fighting likely do feel better! The sprightly Starfire has a way of warming hearts, after all.     The fox looks up upon the taller woman, even taller still if she's floating. Her gloves are half-burnt off, her clothes are dirty from rolling around in a New York alley, but she looks as okay as she can be. "...thank you, dear," she says with a half smile, "...that was not the sort of evening party I wanted to be invited to, believe me..."