Owner	Pose
Franklin Richards	The New York City subway lines are seeing their typical evening rush. With the holidays, things are slightly busier than usual, but thankfully for the passengers, there's been nothing genuinely noteworthy. Soon, a train arrives at this particular station and gets its fill of people who either find their seats or stand.     Before the doors to the car can close, a slender woman rushes in, glancing back at the shutting doors. She's holding a aluminum briefcase and looks to be out of breath, like she was running away from something. She keeps looking back at the door, brushing back strands of brunette hair behind her ears. Still, hardly the strangest occurrence.
Roy Harper	The sight of Arsenal on patrol in New York City is not a common one, but still he can be found here from time to time. Tonight is one of those times. His armor and hood and mask get a few looks from passersby, but let's be honest: costumed weirdos are not that uncommon in the Big Apple. One small child holding hands his father waves enthusiastically. "Hi, Arsenal," the boy calls out. The costumed Outsider squats down for a moment, ruffles the kid's hair, and says, "Hey, kid. Be safe out there, soldier!" The child squeals with delight and snaps a salute to Arsenal, which he immediately returns. As Arsenal begins to move away, the kid's father silently mouths 'thank you' to the vigilante. He gives the dad a friendly nod. Sure, a woman on the subway is not at all unusual. An aluminum briefcase also is not unusual. Someone running and out of breath, likewise is common. Someone looking back over their shoulder as though concerned about being followed also happens down here. Add all four of those things together, and Arsenal's senses trigger. JUST to be on the safe side he boards the car. A nice ride would do him good.
Franklin Richards	The lady doesn't seem particularly excited about sharing a car with a costumed vigilante. Arsenal gets a few wary glances in his direction, but to be fair, they don't just come from her. Seeing someone in a costume will never not be weird, no matter how widespread heroes become.     She stays standing, holding onto a pole with one hand and clutching the briefcase, knuckles white, with the other. Arsenal can get a pretty good look at her even with people surrounding them. She looks to be in her early thirties and her brown hair is cut in a practical and wavy bob. Dressed professionally, she's wearing a white turtleneck underneath a beige suit.     About five minutes into the ride, things start getting weird. The lights flicker off and on, and passengers would feel the odd sensation of being watched. The afterimage of a dark-haired young man is seen, then not seen. "Ah, shit..." mutters the woman.     "Yo, what the fuck is going on?" a passenger calls out among the chorus of mutterings.
Roy Harper	Arsenal frowns. He hates being right, especially at times like this. He reaches down to his belt and grabs a powerful, magnetic LED light. He flicks the light on and with a *THUNK* he affixes it to the ceiling of the subway car. His attentive eyes scan everyone and everything looking for clues about what might be happening. He's particularly wary about the environment. Small, enclosed, crowded spaces aren't exactly his wheelhouse. He murmurs, "It's okay. We're okay. Just a little electrical problem." His tone is quiet enough that likely only those very near to him would hear.
Franklin Richards	The unease builds the further along the subway train pushes to its destination. People are starting to crowd the doors, eager to leave what seems to be a cursed car as soon as possible.     The illusive boy becomes permanent, fixed in a small space at the center of the crowd. He looks, well, normal. He's wearing a black t-shirt, red basketball shorts, and his feet are socked. His skin is fair, and his hair flows in a whispery zephyr. When his eyelids flutter open, there's white hot light in their sockets, and his gaze is directed at the brunette woman. "You!"     BANG! A shot rings out, and the tension breaks. It's chaos. Shouting, and people desperately trying to leave what's now looking like their prison.
Roy Harper	"Ah shit," Arsenal mutters. "I should have stayed home and watched Single All The Way on Netflix." He tightly grips ceiling grab bars and hoists himself lithely over panicked passengers to get himself closer to the woman with the gun shooting at a kid. Who knows if anyone's been hit but it's difficult to imagine a bullet being shot in this tight environment without taking out at least someone. Arsenal drops to the ground next to the woman and attempts to grab the gun from her hand. If she proves to be stronger than she looks, he'll settle for gripping the slide so the weapon can't operate. "Anybody ever tell you it's impolite to shoot guns in subways, lady?"
Franklin Richards	In a such a densely packed crowd? Someone's been hit. Pained moans can barely be heard among the screaming passengers. The woman's aim was good, but the bullet passed through the young man. Arsenal can tell from the brief struggle that the armed woman isn't a super by any means. She's disarmed but also quick, backing against the wall and swinging at Arsenal's chest with the metal briefcase.     The doors to the car open, and people flood out of the subway. The people waiting outside? Also running. Because when you see a crowd of people fleeing, it's human instinct to follow. In the next few moments, the only people remaining in the train will be Arsenal, the young man, the shooter, and a middle-aged man clutching his leg.
Roy Harper	Arsenal quickly snakes out one hand and hits the emergency button to alert the train operators that something is going wrong. This, of course, is going to cause a ripple effects that will lead to transportation delays all around the city. "Lady, you swing that thing at me one more time and you're gonna be wearing it somewhere very uncomfortable. Just stay very quiet and very still until the police get here." The Outsider looks to the man clutching his leg. "Sir, I've activated emergency services. Someone will be here very shortly." He then looks to Franklin. "You okay, man? I thought that bullet was gonna tear you apart."
Franklin Richards	"Jessica, you...you bitch! Give that back," Franklin's voice is strange, not so much in the way it sounds, but how it echoes in one's head after he speaks. His eyes are still glowing, as he turns on the woman, hovering above everyone so that he towers over her. "You know my dad will kill me..."     "That's vulgar," The woman, whose name appears to be Jessica, chides Arsenal. She is not liking her options. And a civilian's been injured, which will look bad no matter how this goes. "But you're right. My employers, you see, they're very persistent. But this has gotten way out of hand. Here."     She unlocks the briefcase and tosses it in Franklin's direction.
Roy Harper	Oh boy. Shit just got real. Shit just got really real. Arsenal looks back and forth between the woman and the man. "You two know each other? This is some kind of personal matter? You fired a gun! In a subway! You hit a man and could have killed him." The crowd outside the subway watches intently. This is being filmed on a couple dozen cell phones right now. Beyond the crowd some impatient voices shout "Clear the way. Coming through. Police coming through. Make a hole!"
Franklin Richards	Just as the bullet passed through Franklin, the briefcase does the same, tumbling onto the floor and sliding open. Laying flat within it is a metallic circular device that crackles with swirling green energy until a tiny portal hangs in space. "Oh, no," Franklin looks horrified, all color washed from his face. First from the portal comes a pair of chitinous limbs, which plant themselves on the subway floor. Following them is a grotesque eight-foot insectoid creature that chitters and clicks as it takes in its new surroundings. Once it has fully exited the dimensional wormhole, it screeches. To the terror of those still watching. "I'm so grounded."     Jessica makes a run for it, figuring the boys have bigger problems now. Franklin floats over to Arsenal, as more creatures rise from the green portal. "You have to help me, dude," He pleads. "Please, close it. I can't, I -- there's no time to explain."
Roy Harper	Arsenal frowns as the creature exits the wormhole. Of course. Why can't cute phantom boys appear in his bedroom? Why's it gotta be briefcases and giant insects? He glances at Franklin, then to the briefcase. Bow out. Grapple arrow in. He fires between the creatures legs, his arrow sinking into the briefcase. He tugs with his all his might to get the object past the creature. "Don't suppose Casper the Ghost here can do something to fight that thing?" Roy mutters as he kicks the briefcase shut. He looks up at the monster. "Man are you ugly," he says as he yoinks an electric taze arrow from his quiver.
Franklin Richards	Franklin lets out a sigh of relief. Really, only a few of those bug things came out. That's manageable. "Just a day in the life, huh?" He glances towards the insectoids. It's fine. This is fine. He presses his fingers to his temples and focuses on their minds. "Maybe they don't eat people. Gah. They certainly don't think like them." Frankie knows that logic doesn't follow. He's just a little stressed right now.     "The important thing is we have the prototype," The monsters don't seem to enjoy being in enclosed spaces. They rush into the walls of the train before finally escaping into the subway station, their alien howls scattering the onlookers. "Can't you just bring it to my place? We can deal with them, like, later?" Not the most responsibility, this one. "After we make sure that guy's okay, of course."     Franklin glides over to him. "He needs medical attention. I can ease the pain," He reaches out a hand and his fingers, intangible, pass through the man's forehead. "You'll be alright, Mr. Hayes." How does Franklin know his name? Weird ghost shit.
Roy Harper	"Deal with them later?" Arsenal blurts out incredulously. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He's already leaping out of the subway car where the police have set up a line to separate civilians from the, you know, giant insects. He fires his electrical taze arrow at the biggest of them as he looks over his shoulder and yells to the police, "There's a wounded civilian in the subway car! GSW to the leg!" He doesn't even have the common decency to look at the insect when he fires the arrow. He already knows it's going to hit. They always hit.
Franklin Richards	Franklin isn't there when the police come to help the wounded man. He appears next to Arsenal as he takes the shot. "You know, they're probably just as confused as we are. They were summoned without their consent into a world with a bunch of evolved monkeys. Killing them is probably a violation of an interdimensional code of ethics...somewhere," Probably. His arms are crossed. He looks a little miffed about being called out on his bullshit. "Just make sure to get the briefcase when you're done."     Of course, the arrow hits the monster, piercing its exoskeleton. They bleed green. As the electricity courses through it, its body spasms and convulses before dropping to the ground. "Gross. One down, three to go."
Roy Harper	Arsenal frowns as he looks at the floating Franklin. "Do you...do you actually /do/ anything other than float there and look like an Abercrombie & Fitch model?," the teen hero retorts. "And I'll kill a hundred of these things before I let one person get hurt." Then he quickly adds. "Or /shot/." There's a thumb switch on the the archer's bow. He clicks it and that causes a whirring noise to emit from his quiver. "This is a prototype. I don't even know if the thing works." He sticks the arrow into the bow and shoots at the ground between the two insects. At first blush it appears that Arsenal has missed his target! Or has he? The bulky arrowhead explodes and sets thick, sticky goop all over the ground near the two beasts.
Franklin Richards	"I'm not actually here," Franklin says. "Not really. You're seeing a projection of me. Right now, I'm in bed. Sleeping. To me, this is just a weird dream." He glances at the two monsters whose limbs are rapidly twitching in the weaponized glue. Try as they might, they are unable to break free of the stuff. "But to answer you're question, nope." The godling gives a rueful grin and flickers out of existence.     The loose insectoid turns and shrieks at its skilled assailant. It hurries towards Arsenal at unnatural speeds, and once within range, bears down on him with clawed legs.
Roy Harper	As a sharp pointy leg hammers downward, Arsenal leaps out the way with agility and speed that would make an Olympic gymnast green with envy. But those bugs are fast. The sharp point sheers through the armor on Arsenals right calf and tears into the flesh. He lets out a yell. But the leap still clears him away from the monster, which is what the police were waiting for. They unleash on the the thing with a hail of gunfire. Transit officers with pistols and ESU officers with rifles fire a hundred rounds at the thing. Even through the pain, Arsenal is able to keep moving, gritting his teeth and grunting as he runs backwards to give himself time to see if the bullets are going to be effective. "I'm gonna need a tetanus shot. I frickin' hate needles."
Franklin Richards	The interdimensional creatures are fortunately not resistant to bullets or arrows. The portal opened to a pretty low-level world. The giant insect is reduced to a goopy mess of bug flesh and green blood. Franklin reappears by Arsenal, a look of concern on his face. "Oh gosh. You're hurt," He chews on his lower lip, trying to think of something he can do. "Look. I still need that briefcase. If you snatch it and bring it to," An address pops into Arsenal's head. Franklin's home. "I can get you fixed up."
Roy Harper	Arsenal frowns. He doesn't like this one bit. But if he's going to act, it has to be /now/ while the police are preoccupied with the immediate aftermath of the bug attack. Otherwise, they surely are going to have some questions for him. Like a crimson streak, Arsenal runs past the bug corpses and snatches up the briefcase. He's normally be faster, smoother, but this leg wound is pretty nasty and when the adrenalin wears off he's going to feel the hell out of it. One thing is for sure, there's no way he can travel as Arsenal right now. The cops will be looking for him for an interview. After leaving the subway, he ducks into a safehouse where he keeps civilian clothes. He tucks his uniform, his collapses bow, and the briefcase into a backpack he wraps bandages around his calf so he doesn't, you know, bleed all over the sidewalk. And off he goes against his better judgement to bring this briefcase to phantom boy.