2007-04-04: Doing The Time Warp!


Erica_icon.gif Drake_icon.gif


Teen boy buying drugs, drug dealer turned thief.


A newly arrived USAF recruiter fails to interest Drake. Twice.

Date It Happened: April 4th, 2007

Doing The Time Warp!

Times Square to start, and the area around the Empire State Building later.

She stands outside the building located at the intersection of 43rd and Broadway, New York City, and quietly takes a long look around Times Square. It's been a busy day for Erica, one mostly taken up by the rigors of first day paperwork, meeting subordinates, and the like. She finally has a little time to breathe, and opts to spend it letting her eyes wander. That issue of Life magazine with the famous photograph of V-J Day celebrations is in one hand, she sees the soldier kissing the nurse captured for eternity in the camera lens that day, and tries to find the spot it was taken.

She's in full dress uniform as she does this, silver captain's bars on her shoulders, a handful of ribbons indicating awards and minor medals just under her silver pilot's wings on her chest and a blue plastic strip which announces her name as Snow on the other side in white lettering.

Heading his way down the sidewalk is Drake, practically blending in with the crowd, with the exception of his blonde, spikey high hair jutting upwards from his head. He's wearing a tan corduroy jacket, a pair of blue jeans and a simple white shirt with a married couple on it, with the words: Game Over, beneath it. A guitar is slung around his shoulder, and a backpack dangling in his hand as it seems that he is aiming for a bit of shopping down the busy, famous street of New York. His bright, blue eyes dance about as he goes, spying in a window here or there, mulling things over.

One hand raises to make sure her uniform hat is securely in place, and the captain starts walking across the square. Red hair is neatly pinned up to stay off her collar in the back, her ears marked with plain silver studs. The uniform version she's chosen today has pants, and shoes with the flat heel. Erica's on a course toward the guitar-toting teen, consulting the magazine from time to time and comparing features in the photo with the modern place to hopefully find the spot she's after.

Pausing to stare into a window of a small gift shop, Drake's eyes dart about for a moment, as if trying to come to a decision, then wets his lips in thought. Sliding a notepad out of his pocket, he squints his eyes at a certain object, then writes it down with a scribble, before heading on to the next store, making his way towards the airforce woman. As any passerby on the New York streets, he is in his own little world as he goes, not paying much mind to the anything else, save his personal space as he bobs, and dodges through crowds of walkers.

The teen is spotted as Erica gets closer to the place she thinks was most likely where that shot was taken, and care is taken not to collide with the boy, or be collided with. Silently she watches him for a moment, wondering his age and whether or not it's his school that'll be visited soon to make recruiting pitches. Distracted for the moment from her goal, the captain mulls over what angle might be best if he were approached. Music? The service has musicians. College tuition help? She's told that works, for that matter it's how she got her degree.

Pausing, Drake peeks into a vintage record store, and a big grin floods over his face. Ah, that's it. Definitely. Sliding out his notepad again, he starts to flip through it, as if he was researching a few things first, before deciding if he would head inside or not. Leaning against the brick wall, tucking a foot behind him, he crosses a few things off, then tucks the pencil behind his ear. The milltary woman is noticed for the moment, and he gives a quick, polite smile once their eyes meet, then goes back to his notepad.

A few more steps put her in hearing distance, and Erica opens with a question. "How good are you with the axe you're carrying?" While waiting for his answer she too looks through the store window and checks out the wares within. "Looks like they might even still have vinyl in there."

Glancing up at the voice, Drake offers up another quick smile, a bit awkward. "My guitar? I'm OK I guess. I'm not in a band or anything. I play for my church, and for my school once in awhile. I'm hardly a rock star." He chuckles, before looking back in through the window. "I hope they do also. My girlfriend loves this stuff, and I'm trying to find a few good Indie types for her that she may wanna check out."

She's tall, maybe three inches taller than he is, standing there and making conversation. "Not yet, anyway," Captain Snow agrees. Her right hand moves, on the proper finger is her Air Force Academy ring. "But you could be, if you got about it right, don't you think? Get some adventure under your belt, have more to write songs about."

"I don't really want to be in a band. Music isn't really what I want to do in life." Drake says with a chuckle. "I enjoy it, but I know the reality is, I won't make it as a career in the long run. I actually want to do theater, maybe Broadway if possible." He glances up at her for a moment, as she talks about adventure, and gains a quirky grin on his face. He has enough of that in his life. "You trying to recruit me for the Air Force?" He asks with a laugh.

"What if I am?" Captain Snow chuckles. "Are you going to laugh at me all the way home? Have a good chuckle with your girlfriend while you and she play those indie records together?" She grins a bit, adding "It isn't for everyone, and I think it'd be a year or two more before you're eligible, but we'll still be around then. It's been good to me. Small town girl who became a fighter pilot. Zoom!" Erica makes a taking off gesture with one hand. "You'd have more experience to draw on in your acting career."

"Nah, I won't laugh at you. I'm glad that you found something you love. I just /really/ don't think that it's for me. I'm already scouting a few of the local Colleges here, and I kind of need to stay here close to my mom. I'm all she has since my dad died. He was on the force, got shot in action." Drake says with a smile on his face. "I'm the only child of an only child, and if I took off and started going around the world, it'd crush her. I kinda made a promise to stick around until at least I graduated College, before I settle down and start going my own way. But, I thank you for the consideration." He's so polite, smiling the entire time, even rocking a bit on his heels.

Her features turn a bit somber, like she's remembering something when he speaks of his father. "He was a policeman?" the captain asks. "I can't say how rough that is, I've not had the same loss. But there are a few of my academy classmates who died in the line of duty." Erica faces away partly, her eyes again looking through the store window.

"Yeah, he was on the force. It's what my mom says. I never got to meet him. He died when I was still in the tummy. Missed him by about two months." Drake says as he rubs the back of his neck. "So, you know, I kinda decided a long time ago I didn't want a career where I had to learn how to handle a gun, or find myself getting shot at, or… being stuck in a third world country you know? It's .. really just not my thing. My friend Brad would probably talk to you though, unless the Army already got to him. He wants to blow things up he says."

"We're not hard to find," Erica replies. "43rd and Broadway, you probably saw the place a million times. Brad might come to us, or we to him when we do school visits. I think there's a few on the schedule for next week, actually." Changing tacks, she holds up the Life magazine copy and asks "Do you know where this was taken? It's somewhere around here, I think. It probably sounds lame to someone who lived here his whole life, but, well, to me it's a thrill. New York City, the place that never sleeps."

"Oh, it sleeps. Probably not as sound as we like to." Drake says as he leans forward to study the picture, recognizing the place when he does his roof top leaping. "Yeah, it's about a block down." He points northwards. "That's near the Virgin records store, and I think Goldie's pizza shop. Right across the street. You can kinda see it from here if you can squint past the sunlight." He motions with a grin.

Glancing in that direction for a moment, Erica holds a hand up to shield her eyes and block the light enough to see clearly, then nods. "Thanks." The captain turns back to the teen and sincerely offers "Good luck with your Broadway dream."

Chuckling, Drake says, "Thanks. Good luck in finding some recruits." He says, giving her a proper salute across the brow, then opens up the door to the record store, slipping his way inside to find some vinyls for Claire.

From there the captain goes to find the spot, and once satisfied she returns to the recruiting station. Just before the duty day ends, in fact. People leave, she does too, and heads to her temporary lodgings to change out of the uniform. Erica slips into a pair of black jeans, heavy black sweatshirt, black gloves, and tucks a dark ski mask into hr pocket before heading out again. She's off to explore the city and find her way to some rooftop she can make use of after darkness has settled on the city.

Shortly after nightfall Erica's at the Empire State building, looking up at how tall it is, and checking to see the hours the place keeps. It's a quiet spot she needs, a place where she can be unobserved. Public attention isn't her goal in the least.The ski mask is in her pocket still, her face is visible. Hiding her face is for later, when and if she manages to execute her plan. Thrilled as Captain Snow is to be in New York, this was so much easier in the desert.

As usual, late at night, Omega is making his way through the roof top as the clad in black 'super hero' leaps from one to the next. It seems that he is enjoying the crisp, clean air as he sommersaults onto a flat roof, rolling upwards onto his feet, then starts off at another quick, barrel run for the next ledge. Having been doing this the past few months, he practically has a two mile radius memorized, and so crash landing to a splattery death is only on the back of his mind. He's dressed in heavy cargo pants, complete with a solid black long sleeve shirt. He wears a ski mask of his own, only with the top cut off to allow his mop of blonde hair to sprawl out around his head. Through the eyes, is a thin pierce of red glass, giving him a more ominous, and darker visage. With another leap, followed by a land, he steps up to the edge of a roof, looking out over the expanse of busy New York streets, kneeling down next to a fierce gargoyle. He waits, knowing that something out there is lurking, someone most likely will be in need of protection.

There. That's a good spot around the side of the tall structure. Erica walks toward it, her hands pulling out the black ski mask, and a long look around is taken to ensure there aren't any witnesses. On goes the mask, her hair still pinned up and now hidden under it, and she's clad in black from head to toe. A deep breath is taken. And… nothing. "Damn." Her feet fail to leave the ground, and the breath is released. The eyes look around again carefully, to make sure she's still unobserved where she stands.

Not noticing the woman clad in black, Omega continues to search through the streets carefully as he leans against the gargoyle, softly whispering to him. "So, you as bored as me?" He pulls his lips back into a grin from behind the mask, huffing out a soft sigh. "Well, Smiddy.." It's the Gargy's name it seems. "I may have to move on if nothing pops up. I guess it's a blessing that no one is getting beat up, or robbed this evening."

Once she feels sure no one is watching her, Erica fills her lungs again and releases the breath slowly. A moment of concentration is indulged in as she makes another attempt. And this time she begins to rise from the ground, hugging the side of the building behind her. The lips curve into a grin with success, she watches the street below as it recedes.

Being that it's dark out, and the woman is wearing all black, Omega misses the rising from the side of the building from the corner of his eye. Standing up, he gives the gargoyle a pat on the top of his head, then starts off to the other side of the roof. His heavy boots thump against the top of the flat, plastic roof, then leaps onto the next one, growing closer towards the building the woman is rising from.

Upward she rises, headed toward the roof, her eyes kept down and careful that no one should walk by the area under her. Erica's confident her black clothing will give added cover, it being night, and her face is hidden in case anyone does see. Being featured in New York tabloids is so far from her goal, the moon might well be closer. Or Mars. As she nears the Empire State Building roof, her eyes sweep the structure and surrounding sky carefully.

What the…! Erica holds position in mid-air, watching as a shape jumps from one roof to another, moving toward her location. She watches, hoping to not get spotted, and tries to wrap her mind around what she just saw. The head shakes a time or two, is she seeing things?

After another leap, in which Omega lands, one can clearly see the omega sign printed on the forehead of his mask, glowing brightly in a neon type manner. With a flex of his leather gloves, he continues on along the roof, watching the streets here, or there as he goes. A group of youths is spied for the moment, then moves on to a hobo who is sleeping in a filthy blanket in one of the alleys. So far, so good.

He's not coming toward her now that he's on a roof after that second leap, and Erica relaxes a bit. Her attention is thoroughly captured, and she decides to follow this fellow with the Greek letter on his forehead. Silent and slow, she resumes her rise to the rooftop proper and hovers just a few centimeters over the surface to watch what he does, see where he goes.

As Omega steps up to another ledge of the roof, he peers down into the alley and stares intently for a moment, spying a pair of men below, making a trade of sorts. Furrowing his brows, he takes a leap off the edge, disappearing below as he lands on the fire escape with barely a thud. Either he has the touch of a cat, or he's slowing time down enough for him to land easily without a clank. Looming over, he stares at the pair again just about fifteen feet above. That kid looks almost fifteen, and he seems to be purchasing some sort of drugs. If only he can make out the stuff.

Observing, the dark garbed woman rises again and this time moves forward instead of only vertically in the air. Her motion is slow, the goal to keep the man in view and watch what he does without giving herself away or attracting notice from the ground. While he lands on the fire escape she moves as close as she can get to the building wall and takes advantage of shadow for cover, eyes focusing on what happens under her. To herself she thinks she was right, being assigned to New York City definitely would be interesting.

When the kid reaches into his pocket and hands over the cash, he finds himself surprised as a gun is thrust into his chest instead of a wad of weed. The older man, possibly in his thirties, grins widely as he holds out his hand, saying in a soft grunt. "Hand over the rest of your cash, I know you got it. All of it, or I'll blow your head off." He looks serious, and that weapon is packing a silencer. At least he's not /too/ stupid. Most guys just pop a cap and run for it.

Omega squints his eyes a bit more as he watches the kid, trembling, murmur something under his breath, then start to root about in his pockets. It doesn't last long until this drug dealer turned thief gets frustrated, and whacks the kid as hard as he can across the skull, watching the body slump to the ground.

Crap. This looks serious now. Kid struck with a gun below her on the street, that's something she definitely never came across while flying at home in North Carolina or in the desert. She slowly begins to lower herself toward the street and the guy with the greek lettered forehead, taking care to remain well above him and see what he does. It's gone beyond a young fool making a choice to an assault with potential grievous bodily harm.

Soon as the young kid's body hits the ground, Omega is in action. One moment he's crouched on the fire escape, the next? He's on the ground. There's only a radiant blur as he lands easily behind the gunman, then swings out with a well placed high kick, delivering a crushing snap to the back of his head. The way the vigilante moves, it's almost as if he's in a Kung Fu movie. Each attack is precise, well aimed, and has a great deal of power behind it. Easy, when time is slowed down long enough through his eyes so that he can make a proper calculation. He zips from one side to the next, watching the man spin about in a dizzy, distracted manner.

"What the fuck!? Ow.. what th—."

He doesn't get much more than that as he finds a fist suddenly connecting with the side of his jaw, followed by a sweep of his feet as he goes tumbling backwards to the ground, staring upwards at the man in black, with glowing red eyes glaring down upon him. A voice can be heard, young, but full of anger.

"These are -my- streets, and I won't have the likes of you lowering the grade. You deal poison to kids, then rob 'em afterwards. You're the worst kind of scum. If you don't change your ways, God will have his own set of plans for you."

".. Buh.. bwah… mmff.." It's hard to speak through a mouth full of broken teeth, isn't it? Crack! Another fist comes down hard, knocking him unconscious, before the man in the shadows rises up to take out what appear to be heavy duty zip ties, and begins to bind him.

Well. Street crusader, it seems. Erica moves further down, staying to the shadow close to the building wall and gets close enough to have a better look. She doesn't speak, doesn't do anything that might draw his or anyone else's notice beyond the simple act of slow descent, and hovers maybe twenty feet above the site of his activity. Her head tilts when he speaks. Is that a voice she's heard before?

After hog tying the man's arms behind his back, to his ankles, Omega rises up and heads towards the kid. He leans forward and checks his pulse for a moment, before letting out a soft breath. With a shake of his head, he reaches to a pocket on his knee and sneaks out what appears to be disposable cell phone. Dialing 9-1-1, he waits for the ring, then says. "Yes, there's been an attack on fifth. Just saw a drug dealer try to kill a kid out in one of the alley's, and got beat up by a bunch of guys. Looks like they tied him up or something. Don't know how the kid is. I haven't seen him move. Where am I? Across the street in one of the apartments. Saw it through the window, it's crazy. Sending a car? Thanks." He hangs up, then lets out a breath, glancing upwards to the fire escape, then freezes. There's.. there's someone floating in the sky. Immediately, he takes a defensive position, ground to sky as he curls his fingers into fists, staring. Hard. He doesn't move, yet, he just waits.

The voice doesn't register in Erica's mind, she still watches and waits while he makes the call. When he seems to spot her, the female shaped mid-air observer tilts her head. With one finger she poins straight up, indicating the sky, the roof, or maybe both, and begins to rise above him. Captain Snow has no intention of being anywhere in view of the street when the cops arrive for the subdued man, and perhaps expects Greek letter guy won't want to be there either. Up and up she goes until the roof is reached, and she then slowly moves laterally to hover just centimeters above solid footing.

Tilting his head upwards, Omega looks to the street, then leaps upwards as he grabs the bottom of the fire escape. With a bit of a swing, he curls himself up, and over easily, much like an acrobat would, then starts to scale it, slowly, and carefully as he keeps his eyes on her. As he leaps onto the roof, he puts a bit of distance between him, and her, knees bent, waiting, anticipating.

"Interesting moves," she says quietly when he arrives. Erica doesn't move, she just hovers there watching him watch her in return, and the lips curve into something of a curious expression. The black clad shape is clearly female in body shape and in the pitch of her voice, tall too. Maybe five feet and ten inches in height. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Tilting his head slightly, Omega looks her up and down for a moment, before taking a few steps back. Turning, he starts to bolt across the roof top away from her at a fast pace, practically at a barrel run. With a leap, he dives for the next roof into a tumble, then propels himself back up as he continues to go. It doesn't seem like he's the type to stand around and talk. Despite his own curiosities, he made a promise. To stay out of sight, and to stay out of trouble. This, is definitely, possible trouble.

"Interesting," Erica remarks as she watches him move to get away. The things she's seen him do, this conversation isn't ending to her tastes, and so she decides to try tracking him again. She rises further into the air, getting herself about fifteen feet of roof clearance and moves through the air to follow, her eyes seeking to track where he goes while she herself hopes to remain unseen through benefit of her garb and the night. Her pace is swifter now, close to a jogging speed.

With a shift of time around his personal space, Omega leaps over the edge of the roof, and blurs once more out of sight, leaving only a trail of dust into the darkness below. Seconds pass by like minutes for the time wielder as he lands on his feet, then hurries down a familiar back alley. Once he feels comfortable enough, he uncovers his backpack he had stuffed behind a dumpster, then changes into his pedestrian clothes. With that, he starts on his way home, deciding that he will take the easy, short cuts. No need for his mother to find him missing, and start to worry. At the alleyway, the police arrive to find the bound man barely regaining conscious, and the young boy who will be admitted to the local hospital. Not a bad night after all.

Above the roof, left in his chronologic dust, Erica searches the sky for the Greek letter guy in vain. She slowly turns in each direction, scanning for him, and seeing nothing. "Damn," she mutters. "That was… Eleven years, I thought I was the only person on earth who could defy gravity. Crazy me. New York's looking better and better all the time." She mentally debates going for the aerial tour of this city, and decides against it for now. It wouldn't be fun to run into a helicopter, after all. A return is made to the Empire State building; she lands and removes the mask, walking back to the street and resuming her role as a normal person in the world.

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