2007-05-18: This Is The Really Real World

Starring: Drake and Elle

Drake_icon.gif Elle_icon.gif

Summary: Drake has been running around playing Batman. The Company has officially had enough of this crap. Electroblonde is sent to bring him in.

Date It Happened: May 18, 2007

Log Title: This Is The Really Real World

Rooftop in NYC.

Standing on the top of the roof of Peter's old stomping ground, and where he, and his friend come to practice sometimes, is Omega, staring out over the expanse of New York as evening has approached, giving the city a beautiful cacophony of lights, and sounds. It seems that the costumed hero has came up here to do a bit of thinking as his trench coat flutters behind him in the breeze, rippling, and cracking in a leathery snap. His dark clothing is on, as well as his mask, with eyes staring out through thin red glass, simply watching the cars go in, and out of the busy, packed streets. A long wooden bo staff is in his hands as he leans into it, resting, looking much like a brooding gargoyle, than a young man.

And that's when the door opens. There's a slow clap. "Well, well, Christian Bale. Having fun with your little movie fantasies?" she asks, looking over to the man on the roof's edge. "You know, you need help."

Turning slowly with his head, Omega's visor gleams slightly in a red glare. With the rest of his body, he shifts, spinning the staff in his hands for a moment, before it snaps to his side. "I need help?" He asks, his breath heavy. "What I do out here, for the world, I do it for the greater good. I /help/ people. I save them. I take away the fear of walking down a dark street from the convenience store." He pauses for a moment, before saying, "The world is sick, not me."

Elle repeats. "You need help. Life isn't a movie. And you running around like you think you're in Batman, or Blade Runner? You're not helping anything. The world has mechanisms for keeping people safe. Police. Courts. Laws. All you're doing is being a vigilante, and you're risking starting a witch hunt."

"The police in this city don't care. Every two minutes, and fifteen seconds, a crime happens. Someone gets raped, someone gets killed, someone gets sold drugs." Omega says, his voice strong, full of conviction. "Have you ever seen an old lady get dragged into an alley, and stabbed before?" He asks her, seriously. "Have you ever heard someone cry out for help, and people just /keep walking/ down the sidewalk, pretending not o notice? -I- have. What I do, is I become a beacon of light for those who can't help themselves. I don't just use my powers /selfishly/."

Elle looks at him. "LISTEN to yourself. You are in the state of delusional megalomania. You're a "beacon of light". YOU make the difference. Do you realize what will happen down there, if they realize what we can do and what we are? It's going to make the Holocaust look pretty."

"I'm not the delusional one here. I've yet to tie someone up and electrocute them." Drake says, his eyes narrowed behind his red visor. "At least I have a /purpose/. What do you do with your gift? You hurt people with them. You work for a company that sticks things in people's neck, and you take away their memories. Don't come at me, telling me I need help, when I at least try to help people."

Elle replies back to him. "That's not delusional. That's the -opposite- of delusional. That's practical. I've turned a blind eye this long. THEY'VE turned a blind eye this long. It stops. Here and now. Do this the smart way. Stand down. Stop this nonsense. This isn't some kind of superhero movie. This is the real world. Do it before I have to stop you. Or THEY have to stop you."

"You /tortured/ my best friend! You're lucky I didn't hunt you down. You're lucky that Elena is as forgiving as she is." Omega hisses back to her, raising the staff up and begins to spin it, his hands moving at a blur as the wooden weapon seems to disappear in, and out of the naked eye. "Do not take me lightly. I don't wish to war with you, but I will defend myself."

Elle looks back at him. She sighs. "You don't "wish to war" with me. Do you think you're making speeches? You're insane!" And when -Elle Bishop- can call you insane, that's pretty bad. She sighs again, and then opens a hand at her side. A blue beam leaps out at him.

As the blue arc of electricity is hurled at him, Omega's eyes focus, and the world begins to slow down to a crawl as the sound of New York becomes a distorted chord of chaos. With a twist of his body, he watches the light strike the edge of the roof behind him, charring the concrete. His body practically blurs, skipping as he moves off to the side, calling out to her. "Don't do this, Elle!" He says, his voice warping in, and out as he moves. It's like he's skipping, like a stone on a pond.

The blonde looks back. "That's what I'm asking you! Come in. You are psychologically unbalanced, Drake. You need -help-. If you keep at this, you're going to get people killed. And you're going to start a witch hunt. Do you really want people…innocent people…ending up in detention centers, branded, cause they have a genetic quirk?"

"You already do that! You stick people in cells just because their different. You take their memories, you steal people's lives. I'm not the one who needs help." The voice of Omega comes out from the top of the pigeon coup as he stares down at her, his coat rustling about his frame. "I lead a normal life. I have a great family, an awesome girlfriend, and a job that I enjoy. I go to school like anyone else, and I've not missed church in ten years. Just because I go out at night, and help a few people, doesn't make me crazy. I put a mask on so that no one will show up on my front door and shoot my mom if I get recognized." He says, furiously. "And I'm not going /back/."

Elle sighs again. "This is not a normal life, Drake. Walking around in a -costume- and fucking ORATING at people, is not normal." She fires again. "DON'T make me do this." she asks.

With the tickle on the back of his neck, Omega once more leaps off the pigeon coup, this time moving in such a quick blur that he is becoming hard to track. The coup crackles for a moment as the arc of electricity sizzles for an instant. As he lands on the ground, he disappears in a quick, smooth motion as he continues to slow time down through his eyes, taking his time to pick out his attack.




There's a shuffle of time, followed by a foot swinging out from Elle's left, circling, looking to catch her in the stomach as the speedster practically has all the time in the world to focus on this kick. He isn't looking to break her rips, just knock the wind out of her, and hopefully, give him ample time to escape.

Elle gets kicked, but the blow is more a glancing one than anything else, as she manages to roll with it. "Dammit, Drake, I am trying to HELP you!!" She snaps out another beam at him.

As Omega lands with his kick, he carthweels to the side as the next tasing round bounces off the roof top, giving off another loud crackle of energy. No more witty banter, no more snappy comebacks. Right now, he finds himself in the zone as he shunts himself in a quick blurring motion to the edge of the roof, then leaps, diving head first over the railing. As he snags up the fire escape, he rockets himself to the landing, then starts to scale the floors.

Elle runs over that way. Just stay there another second. It's all that she needs. She grabs the fire escape, and discharges, electrifying the entire thing.

Almost there. Almost there. As Omega hits the tenth floor in his brilliant time induced speed, he can practically feel the buzz humming in the air. With a look over his shoulder, he finds himself suddenly zapped as the metal fire escape sizzles, causing him to short in a loud scream of pain. Caught up within his personal time stream, he is flung hard against the metal railing, then slumps forward with a light groan. His body is trembling as he tries to push himself up, feeling his head spin.

Elle looks frustrated. She's not sure if she wants him to stay on the escape…or come off it. She modulates the charge she lets out this time. Fall -down-, dammit!

The tickle to the back of his neck causes Omega to look up, and once more, another blast is coming his way. With a groan, he throws himself against the wall of the building, watching the beam spark off the metal railing of the fire escape. Swallowing tightly in his throat, he tries to let the stair case provide him cover as he shifts back a bit. He looks to the ground below, then back upwards to the roof. He can't just jump, that'd kill him for sure.

Elle calls down "Drake, you're stuck. There's nowhere to go. I'm trying to catch you. Don't make me kill you." Her hand is on the escape. "Surrender now, Drake. Please. The next time it's lethal voltage." Her hand squeezes the railing tightly.

Grasping the metal railing of the fire escape, Omega concentrates for a moment, but with the pain in the back of his head, and the adrenaline spiking through his veins, he can't seem to concentrate enough. With a heavy breath, he stares upwards at the rooftop for a moment, then shifts his gaze back towards the street. Rising upwards in a shaky, slow manner, he reaches up to pull the mask off his face, revealing his blonde hair, and blue eyes.

Elle is looking back at him. "Come back up here. SLOWLY. Let me help you. Dammit, it doesn't have to be like this!"

Making his way back up the fire escape, slowly, Drake is taking his time in thinking. His booted feet heavily clunk against the metal as he marches. Rolling out of his jacket, he lets it slide behind him and on to the ground, leaving him in only a snug black shirt, and his dark black cargo pants. Once he reaches the roof top, he stares at her and says, "Elle.. listen to me carefully. I'm not going back. What you are doing now, you are taking away my life.. again. I just got it back, and I'm not going to just go back there, so they can do whatever it is you did last time."

She backs up, just a bit, as he comes back up. Once he's almost to the top, she raises a hand, and then tosses him a pair of cuffs. "Put those on, Drake. I -tried- to talk to you. If you'd just led a normal life, and not gotten tied up in comicbook fantasies, -I would have left you alone-. I tried when I came here, to get you to stop this stupidity. You wouldn't."

Catching the pair of hand cuffs, Drake swings them around his finger, then snaps his eyes up to her. "If you would have left me alone in the first place, and never electrocuted me, and took away my memories, maybe I would have, but instead, you're going to silence me, and why? Because I /help/ people? Because I love what I do? Because I revel in my gift, and I actually enjoy helping others? Maybe you can hurt people, torture them, and /enjoy/ seeing people suffer, but that doesn't mean the rest of the world has to." He pauses for a moment, then says, "Elle, if you don't walk away from this, I'm going to ensure that only one of us walks away from this rooftop." With that, he flips the hand cuffs off the side of the roof, letting them cling, and clang their way to the streets, thirty stories below. "So what is it going to be? You going to fire laser beams at me while I tap dance around them all night, until I get bored enough to knock you out, or are we going to walk away like adults, and go on with our lives?"

Elle sighs as he tosses the cuffs off. "Because you dress up like a fucking superhero, Drake. Because you do things that are going to draw attention to us. To things that we can't afford to have attention drawn to. I'm sorry." And then she steps back in, and discharges into the fire escape. This is a full-power discharge, unlike her prior ones.

"I'm sorry too." Drake murmurs as once more, the world slows down to a grinding halt, and the seconds begin to tick like minutes. Tense, he moves forward, allowing the blast of electricity to ripple past him. He can feel the heat, and taste the sizzle of o-zone as he charges in, shunting once more in, and out of her line of vision. As he reaches her, he looks to slam a foot hard into the side of her knee, the movements fast, like a speeding semi as he twists his body, putting his weight into it. He doesn't hold back, and he is hoping to hear a crack if successful.

The blonde gets hit, and there's not a crack, not quite. She manages to turn just a bit, so his kick buckles her knee rather than breaking it. She falls to the rooftop with a cry. She's not going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

As Drake moves about the roof, he is practically in, and out of every eye blink. He stalks her like a lion, his voice angry, hissing out. "Stop this Elle. Just let me go. Peter is my friend. Don't make me do this. Please." He begs her, his voice coming one way, than another. The Bo staff on the ground is now missing as he has collected it. He's going to keep moving, not wanting her to get a bead on him.

Elle looks over as she hears his voice. "I can't chase you." she says, looking up to him. "Run now. You got away." she tells him. Take the clue. Please. Don't make her have to keep doing this.

With a loud sigh, one that seems to echo through the evening, Drake takes the hint, and he's gone. The door to the top of the roof slams shut behind him, followed by the loud collapse of a lock. She'll have to take the stairs, when she's ready to. No more tricks, no more games. The vigilante barrels himself down non stop, leaping every floor he can, until he hits the street level. He's not looking back, not tonight.

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