totalwildcard | Somewhere on the Mainland; Sunday Early Evening

"He's got powers," Harley put in by way of explanation.

"Like Superman?" Cass asked.

Harley's expression immediately soured. "No, not like fuckin' Superman." Although at least the kid hadn't brought up Bats, and also, uh. "At least I don't think so?"

"Who's Superman?" Marc asked.

"A stupid caped crusader from back home," Harley groused. "Think... what the fuck were your guys called? The Revengers? One of those guys."

"Avengers," Marc said. "Nobody called Superman far as I know."

There'd been someone with powers like that but the only thing Marc knew about it was that a giant statue appeared in the ocean one day and nobody really talked about it for some reason.

"Good," Harley said, as they made it to the car. As she was unlocking it, she threw Cass a glance. "And you know where we're going?"

Cass shrugged. "More or less?"

"Good enough for me."

"Is it far?" Marc asked. He was going for the passenger seat again unless Harley felt strongly about having the navigator call shotgun. No pun intended.

Yeah, no, Cass already seemed to be aiming for the back seat and Harley didn't think ahead enough to think of it that way.

"Whole 'nother part of town, right?" Harley checked, which Cass confirmed. "That's fine, we got me."

Sliding into the driver's seat.

Marc was going to ask what Harley meant by that but then he remembered how Harley drove.

"Guess we won't miss dinner after all," he said. Since in theory this could be quick. Or at least the travel part could.

At least if traffic was on their side. In terms of there being enough room for Harley to pull her bullshit moves to weave past cars, of course.

Also, yes, the brief softening of something like longing in Harley's expression was for the tiramisu, thanks for asking! It was just a second or two, and then her hands were firmly on the wheel. "Okay, everybody ready? All limbs inside the car?"

"I got everything I need," Marc told her.

And anything he needed he could either improvise or summon. It was handy like that.

Meanwhile Cass just grabbed a hold of whatever she could, and gave Harley a thumbs up with just the one thumb. And then Harley peeled out of the parking spot, and they were off.

It took a while, even with Harley's love of speed (and even with how incredibly focused she was, compared to her usual standards), mostly because of the navigation involved. She knew how to get to where Cass's usual pickpocketing haunts were, but from there on they needed to use a combination of what Cass remembered hearing, some intuition, and Harley hassling some random passerby by hollering at them out the car window about whether they were 'near where any loser thugs like to hang out probably measuring their dicks'.

It all led them to a slightly more industrial part of town, and there, to a street lined with small warehouses. And they were just gliding along it, until -- "There!" Cass called, pointing to one up ahead with a couple of cars as well as a very distinctive motorcycle in front of it, the latter with a bright and gaudy tiger-stripe paint job on the body. "I recognize that bike!"

"Not sorry I didn't grab that one," Marc said, mainly to himself. He turned to Harley. "How you want to handle this?"

He had his own ideas but this was Harley's thing so he could be backup.

"Barge in and fuck people up?"

Sometimes it was hard to remember Harley could also make more elaborate plans when she wanted to. But when she saw no need to...

"Okay," Marc said. He motioned for her to go ahead. "After you."

Later, once she was actually processing things, Harley was going to be so happy about how little need he felt to fight her on her plans.

Right now, though?

The car pulled to a stop by that very distinctive bike, and Harley was out of the door not two seconds later. She'd already spotted the door, so why wait?

"Kid, you stick by the entrance and stay behind us."

If this was Marc's deal he might've had stronger opinions on what they should do. But it was Harley's so she got final call. Besides, wasn't the first time he'd been side by side with a woman who could handle her shit and just needed him to be her dance partner.

So to speak.

Marc got out of the car and followed behind Harley. He kept pace enough so he didn't fall too far behind, but not so rushed he couldn't take in the situation around them with an eye for things like who might be around, who might hear a commotion, where might anyone be hiding, and so on. He also kept an awareness of where Cass was since they didn't want to lose her.

The street outside was quiet and deserted, fitting for a largely non-residential area on a Sunday night. They would probably be good on causing making a scene on that front, at least.

Harley marched up to the building and kicked the door in. It opened up on the sort of a space you might expect from a small warehouse like this: specifically, it looked kind of like a garage, with an almost definitely stolen car being worked on in the middle. There were shelves lining the walls, and the ones closest to the door were housing such an eclectic mix of ~~moddable~~ items that they just had to also be stolen goods. The others further back seemed to hold various mechanics tools.

At a quick glance, there were five guys, all probably in their late twenties, early thirties, rough and tough dudes who nevertheless weren't making any of this seem like a very professional or hardcore operation. Two near the car, three further back in the room.

There was also an immediate commotion when Harley burst in, a lot of startled "What the fuck?"ing suddenly filling the air as tensions jumped high. Harley was about to check with Cass that these were the guys (not that she'd mind beating up some random goons), when one of the men by the car suddenly laughed: "Oh look, the kid brought her parents!"

"We're not her parents," Harley replied, with the sort of dramatic eye roll that actually had the purpose of landing her gaze idly on the shelves closest to her, "we're something much worse."

She grabbed some sort of -- statuette? Whatever it was, it was heavy enough. Good for smacking that guy who'd laughed across the face with when he made the mistake of stepping closer.

Which of course meant all hell broke loose. The guy staggered back, holding his face, but his friend - dressed in actual mechanic's overalls - was already advancing, while two of the guys in the back went scrambling for a particular corner like maybe they had something stashed there.

"Guess we're not talking," Marc said. And the thing about it was he might as well have been commenting on the weather. He wasn't keyed up now that a fight was on offer. No anger, no worry. Neither bored nor excited. It just was.

"Stay out of sight," he told Cass. Then he put his attention on the goons.

He clocked the two in the back as problems about to escalate, the third as an unknown, and the one in front of Harley as being taken care of. Which left the one advancing.

Marc stepped so he was in the guy's trajectory. Marc's stance was loose. Ready to fight, but not taking the first blow. He looked the guy over and asked, "So what are we doing here? You gonna rotate my tires?"

Yeah, Cass was just making herself very small behind a convenient cabinet-type situation by the door right now. And she was ready to bolt out the door if need be, because she was not stupid.

Harley gave her guy a sharp kick in the midsection, sending him staggering into the car, while the mechanic grunted and took a mean swing at Marc's jaw.

Marc waited until the last possible second to duck out of the way. He went to grab the guy's wrist now that it was sailing past him and use that and the guy's own momentum to throw him towards the wall.

Which worked perfectly! Although the guy did not like that one bit and was immediately clambering back to his feet with much cursing and generic threats.

Unlike Harley's guy, who was currently trying to get air back in his lungs on the floor, but not to worry, she wasn't about to get bored or anything! First of all, she'd clocked the scrambling in the corner, and whatever that was about, it distracted them enough that they didn't see Harley throwing the statuette through the room.

It caught one of the guys in the shoulder, so whatever he'd been holding fell on the floor with a clang, and Harley didn't really have time to worry about the other one because the third guy from the back of the room was now making moves towards being a front-of-the-room guy instead, advancing on Harley.

And the guy in the back not currently holding his shoulder in agony? Oh, of course the thing they'd been scrambling for was a gun. Just the singular one, though? Wow, this gang was terrible -- oh, no, the guy coming towards Harley had what was honestly a real impressive-looking switchblade, instead.

Fun!

Meanwhile Marc remained - perhaps the best term was business-like? No particular emotions about it, just something he had to do.

The guy next to Marc was going to get a hard kick in the knee to take that possibility of getting up, as well as potential unaided walking in general, out of the equation.

Harley seemed to be handling melee well enough that Marc wasn't going to worry about that switchblade. Guns, on the other hand, were a whole different problem. Marc grabbed a wrench off of the bench next to him and sent it flying towards the head of the guy currently armed.

As soon as he did, Marc ran to that corner of the room to take care of both guys trying to arm themselves. Ideally to first grab the gun that had dropped, but if not he could improvise.

The guy who got a wrench to the head definitely didn't see Marc coming, so he wasn't going to be doing shit about the gun on the floor. The other one with the busted shoulder, though? Attempted to lunge for it.

And, yeah, Harley wasn't too worried about the switchblade, either. She yanked one of the car's doors open and used that both as a shield as well as something to try and shove real hard at the guy, with a sharp "Ha!" when it connected.

In the background, Cass did the sane thing and skittered out the door - although only after snagging a random heavy tool, just in case the street got less quiet.

Marc saw the guy lunging and put on extra speed. If the gun was closer to Marc he was going to grab for that first. If the guy was closer he was going to aim a hard kick right into that busted shoulder.

The guy was closer.

So by the noise he made when Marc's kick connected, now his shoulder was extra busted. The other guy, meanwhile, tried to take a swipe at Marc but he was still seeing double from the hit he'd taken to the head.

And Harley? Harley grabbed the top of the car door and vaulted over it in a highly unnecessary show of that old gymnastics prowess - although one that still resulted in her kicking the guy in the face, sending him crashing into the shelves with a fruitless, blind slash of the knife.

"That'll show ya to pick on kids!"

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