#ccf starter

Static pulled on the chain.  He couldn’t get loose without shocking the person he was tied to.

“"Why is it always ninjas?”  Lamented Static as he ducked under a buzzsaw tossed as a shruiken.  He’d been following up a lead on the missing potential metas, when he had been jumped by this guy.

“"Fear the might of Red Tool!” the voice was suitably deep to be intimidating, but the construction tool theme kind of ruined the black and red kabuki suit.

Static grimaced as the man somehow deflected his counter attack with a sword, a feat Static would be wondering about for a while.  “You’re some kind of tool all right.”

“"I have prepared for your power, Static.  My employer will have you stop digging into her affairs.”

Her, huh? Static thought as he blocked a knife with his board.  He’d already tried manipulating them, but they were some kind of pseudo-metal.  “"You can tell her that her off brand Power Ranger got his ass kicked”. Instead, Static swept his leg.

kingofcool: okay peeps, ive been lookinn for those videos of those metas throwing down, cage match style

anon: op is cape--g

anon:were all cape--g

anon: to tru

anon: you mean roulette's Bartlett?

anon: *battle? ----ing autocorrect

cypher raeg: I can messeg a guy who has a couple of mp3s

kingofcool: that sounds great

Virgil found himself in the break room of the STAR Labs complex.

It was his first day as the intern for STAR labs.  Under ordinary circumstances, in an ordinary lab, that would mean assigning him a cubicle with a dozen other interns, huddling for warmth even as they eyed each other suspiciously like neanderthals who all had claimed they had been the one to bring down the mammoth.  But STAR Labs had had approximately five people working at it at any given time, including janitorial staff, since the particle accelerator had exploded a few years ago, and the repeat performance causing a black hole hadn’t exactly made it more popular.

Because of these circumstances, Virgil found himself in a building that had many offices that no one wanted to fill.  He’d called out “Hello” a few times to check the echo (it was pretty epic), he’d thrown a baseball against the wall like Steve McQueen, he’d even worked on his thesis on potential origins for the manifestation of the metahuman gene after being primed by an empowering event, citing the near uniform results of whatever had caused the wave of superhumans in Star City a few years back lead by that psycho Slade Wilson versus the random manifestations caused by the particle accelerator explosion.

In short, he was bored.  Three hours in, and he decided to take a tablet down to the break room.  He could work from there and not feel like he was in the beginning of Twenty Eight Days Later.

This was gonna suck.

Did you ever have days where it seemed that nothing was gonna go right?  Like the universe had dedicated itself to making you it’s personal punching bag for the afternoon?  That’s how Static felt.

First off, Virgil had had an argument with his sister while they were shopping around for a new bank chain, somewhere they could get a debit card from.  Virgil really couldn’t remember what the fight had been about, just that he was right.  That was bad, but you could salvage a day from that.  So he’d done what any sensible young man would do, stepped across the street into a corner store to sulk and grab a candy bar, maybe flip through the magazine stand.

Naturally, the second he’d left the building, some Metahuman, powers unknown, took the whole bank hostage, his sister included.

And naturally, he didn’t have his gear with him.

Okay.  Think.  Your sister’s gonna be in there, so you’re gonna have to disguise your clothing.  This is gonna be indoors, so you don’t need anything besides...

His first time out, he had used a manhole cover as a disc.  And he could use the same trick he used for his symbol, magnetizing metal dust and covering himself correct.  Nothing could replace his hat though.