Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25686329-20150429205054/@comment-25686329-20150501033655

((Alright, we seem to have enough people to start. -- Also Hourhand v. Superpan: Dawn of Ever After is 10/10 best movie.))

((Ideally, I'd like our characters to interact as much as possible, so remember, heroes, viliains, anti-heroes and freedom fighters can't do it alone! I'll start us off.))

Hourhand's fist smashed into another thug, who crumpled to the wet street in an instant. She gritted her teeth. Dangit, there was still more of them. They were illuminated in a ghastly streetlamp glow as they slowly advanced from one side of the alley, cornering her like a pack of ravenous dogs.

She noted a glint of a silver emblem on one of the heavy's shoulder pads; Two Crossed Brooms.

For Spell's sake -- Backbeat was on the streets again...?

She was distracted. On a normal night, she would have kicked in the heads of each and every one of those amoral bastards; they were scum, a plague on earth and humanity. This was not a normal night: there was already a bullet in her side and she'd been going hand-to-hand with goons on-and-off for no less than five hours.

She was exhausted, and she knew if she over-exerted herself (or if one of the toughs was carrying guns) this night was her last.

She would hate herself for what she was about to do.

She detested humanity as a whole, even those that fought for justice like she did, and in her own mind, in a perfect world she was lightyears ahead of asking for help...

But...

She hit the distress button on her belt and turned up her trench coat's collar. The signal would go out to the nearest superhero within a certain radius. She hoped it wasn't someone she detested... though that would be hard criteria to fit.

- - -

Backbeat spun in her swivel chair with a giddy 'Whee!' as she tossed a stack of bills into the air, watching them tumble, careen in mid air as her rotation slowed. Scores of her custom 'Sweepers' occupied and protected the Steel Mill that Backbeat operated from, but Backbeat didn't give two Hexes about safety or caution; patrolling guards just looked cool.

She stopped spinning and squealing for a second.

She just felt so... empty, unfulfilled.

"Money's wortheless." she said to Bristle, her second in command, who didn't/ couldn't respond. "I need... ''friends." she spat the word out like she was saying maggots''. She set her phone to dial a random number, contact another person with a bad record.

She had stolen the phone archives from StarStripe, but he wouldn't come after her, so long as she didn't piss him off personally. He had his own delusions of serving the people and conquest, and whatever-the-spell.

She got a connection.

"Hello, Backbeat speaking." she said airily. "I was in the area and I thought, 'Hey, why not find somebody to raise Spell with'. Interested?"