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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2018 17:41:25 GMT
Liz Evander Liz Evander’s days were barely normal. Last week, she had to go through various obstacles because her article about a recently-dismantled drug-smuggling club demanded details. Just yesterday, while everyone was running away from a metahuman battle, Liz headed towards it, hiding behind a car and making sure she wasn’t a distraction that the hero had to worry about. Now, because her boss was feeling a bit confident about the high hero activity, he’d told her to head for a bank robbery just down south.
”Bloody cliché,” Liz muttered under her breath as she entered her car. Now she’d have to see what interest she could pull out of such a common story. If robbery wasn’t illegal, then Liz would give a small salute to the thieves—they actually had the guts to steal, even with plenty of heroes flying around.
Said high hero activity, however, seemed to mostly consist of metahumans doing what police could do, albeit the police would probably be slower in accomplishing it. Still, Liz found it a bit amusing that most large-scale crimes seemed to have dwarfed down to almost nothing this week, to the point where the heroes were becoming cops’ helpers. Of course, she didn’t pray for it to rise back up again, but considering what recent pattern it seemed to convey, she still expected a small lift-up to arrive days later.
Eventually, she parked her car a bit farther away from where the fight was happening. People were still running out of the building, meaning the robbery just happened recently, or maybe a hero just arrived to save the day. Liz opted for the latter, considering the civilians were probably taken hostage until the metahuman appeared. Explosive flashes emanated from inside, followed by loud bangs. Guns...Better not enter the building for now.
Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking emanated all throughout the area, followed by a black-clad man flying out from one of the bank’s windows. Liz didn’t hesitate to head behind her car, which was thankfully as black as her own dress shirt so it wouldn’t be particularly evident that there was a person by the car. One robber down, she took note, remembering how the guy literally flew out of the window. But how many others to go?
@crane ||
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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2018 18:28:01 GMT
Michael had been sitting across the from where the bank was. He saw the robbers run in, pulling out their guns as they stormed the small building. Waiting for the right moment, Michael heard another gunshot and jumped into the group of people running away. As he ran down the alleyways, hiding in the shadows so that no one could see him, he closed his eyes, meditating on what he needed to do.
He soon felt a surge of energy course through his body like a bolt of lightning, a change coming over him. His one meek body growing ever bigger and stronger. He could feel his shirt becoming tighter and ripping, his body growing muscles and features it did not have mere moments ago. Opening his eyes, he was now taller than he was before, a snarl came out from him as he could now smell the gunpowder coming from the bank, along with the smell of fresh blood.
While it seemed silly for a being of his size, he had to be silent. Looking around the corner, he could see that the back area of the bank was hardly guarded. His ears twitched as he could hear another gunshot go off, but no screams. The sound of far-off police sirens also told him it would be a few minutes before the cops arrived, he was alone for right now.
As fast and as silent as he could be in his large humanoid canine body, Michael ran across the street, hoping to avoid being seen by the robbers who were guarding the area. They were probably too busy looking for the cops to bother him right now. Once at the back, he walked over to a metal door, counting down from thirty in his head.
With each number that passed, he readied himself. He had fought normal robbers before, they were no match for him, but it was always stressful. Like a soldier going to war, you didn't know if this was the last time you would be going. Once he hit thirty, he dug his claw-like nails into the metal door and ripped it off of its hinges, charging forward with a loud monstrous roar of power.
He could hear and feel the guns firing, the bullets bouncing off of the metal door he was using as a shield. With as much strength needed to break a few ribs, Michael hit one of the robbers with the door before tossing it at another.
Once the third robber was distracted by the fact that his teammate was just taken out by a door, Michael rammed him with his shoulder, knocking that robber out of the window and onto the hood of someone's car.
Michael let out a loud roar of more shock than pain as a bullet went through his shoulder. Turning around, he saw one final robber standing. The man was holding his gun in a shaky hand, looking at the monster that was before him.
Michael walked over to him, his canine muzzle parting into a grin of sorts as his tongue went across his sharp fangs, an intimidation tactic used on normal criminals to scare them. Reaching down, he grabbed the gun, easily breaking the barrel of it.
The robber finally had enough and ran out of the room screaming, tears rolling down his eyes as he wanted to live to see tomorrow. Once outside the robber was tackled by officers, a better alternative than what he thought was going to happen.
Once everything was taken care of, Michael walked out into the bright outside world, covering his eyes with the back of his hand as he shielded his eyes from the flashes from people's cameras. If he could talk in this form he would, but it mostly came out as monstrous roars and the occasional bark.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2018 0:43:09 GMT
Liz Evander She didn’t exactly expect the mid-air thief to land on the hood of her car, so when his limp frame got suspiciously closer to the direction of Liz, she was thankfully alert enough to take abrupt steps backwards. Squinting her eyes at the man, it didn’t seem like he had any weapons with him nor did it seem like he had any will left to go law-breaking. Good, good. Liz wouldn’t want to get herself in danger or death today.
Things happened faster afterwards; when Liz emerged out from her slightly-battered hiding place, dozens of police cars were already swarming around the bank. She managed to peek out at the right time, just around to see another robber run out of the bank screaming tears. An amused eyebrow is raised, barely a smile twitching up the journalist’s face at what just happened. What metahuman just managed to reduce a criminal to tears and have them...surrender as quickly as possible to the police?
Liz only had one person in mind, and her speculations were confirmed the moment Hellhound stepped out of the bank’s entrance. It didn’t exactly occur to her that various other media channels had also flocked over to the scene until she noticed how heavily the metahuman shapeshifter was trying to cover his eyes from the sudden appearance of flash cameras.
She doubted if he could see her through all the bright lights, so she waited even if she hated waiting. With Hellhound, getting a quote needed a bit of time—Liz had been lucky enough the first time around to realize that he couldn’t talk in his werewolf form. Of course, she assumed that other news channels should have known by now but judging by the crowd it seemed they always managed to overlook it. Most of them were photographers, but still Liz could spot a few microphones and notepads in the crowd.
She briefly wondered if he’d run away from the crowd—or maybe jump away, considering he was strong enough to land at a good distance. Hellhound did do it the first time she interviewed him, with her being the only one persistent enough to track him down because her bloody boss wanted a quote, so she set the expectation in her mind and prepared to follow whatever route he was going to take. Of course, she’d have to beat other journalists to a race that she knew she wasn’t the only one participating in.
But eh, she’d beaten them once. She could do it again.
Hopefully.
@crane ||
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2018 6:33:21 GMT
Michael stopped and sniffed the air, a familiar scent lingered within the air. From the various other smells that he could detect, he knew this one well. Turning in Liz's direction, he could just make out her frame of body, the flashing lights made it harder for him to see. Moving from night time to day time was hard for him, especially since he now had to deal with the news reporters from every big and small news outlet.
Remembering that she was able to find him before, he jumped over the crowd and went into an alley way. As his body shrank, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Taking out twenties dollars, he tossed it over to a homeless man before taking his coat. Turning another corner, he quickly put on the coat and sat down in a corner, his hand stretched out as he returned to his skinny and average sized body.
The news reporters came running around the corner, cameras at the ready like hunters with their rifles. That is what they were, a form of hunter. They looked out for the best stories, and their pictures could be just as bad, if not worse at times, as a bullet. As they ran by him, Michael stood up and started walking back to Liz. Even without his powers working, he could smell the cheap booze coming from the coat, it reminded him of his father.
Seeing Liz, he waved for her to follow him, walking back into the shadows of the alleyways. She was special, the one woman to actually get an interview with Hellhound, even if it was just a brief few second one. If he could, he would stay longer this time, might talk a bit more about being a D-list hero now working in the daytime.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2018 3:06:06 GMT
Liz Evander Liz attentively watched Hellhound from afar, still leaning casually on her beaten-down car like there wasn't an unconscious robber sprawled on its hood. Not that she didn't care, because she was definitely going to get a mouthful from her sister afterwards. The car just wasn't her first priority at the moment.
The hero sneaking off inside an alleyway was.
Most of the reporters came from smaller media channels, something that Liz had expected and something that she had confirmed the moment they chased blindly and missed their target. No wonder--the bigger companies weren't going to bother with small-time robberies, either way. Leave it to the locals, it seemed things like these weren't really citywide-worthy.
To Liz, however, it was a different story. "Underdogs" like Hellhound were something her publication wanted to represent. "Birds of the same feather", her boss loved to mention whenever he threw Liz over to an assignment.
She slowly and covertly walked over to the alley, passing by another one where a bearded bum was causing some small commotion to no one in particular. Liz took a quick look over as she walked, a bit amused that the bum seemed to be still looking around even if he already had a twenty-dollar bill in his hands. Greed? Loss? Liz wrinkled her nose as a waft of alcohol came by. Not enough to buy the booze he wanted, then? It made her wonder what had happened, but she knew it was going to be a story for another day.
Eventually she spotted Hellhound--or at least his human form--waving at her to come over. She couldn't quite form out his face due to the darkness, and had it not been for his hair she would have turned back and assumed he was some typical alley drug-dealer or something. Walking closer, Liz could smell that terrible waft of booze again. Squinting, she noticed that he had a coat on--a coat that seemed to big for a young man's lanky body.
It was a brand she knew well. Soon she found herself connecting two and two together.
Liz almost laughed, but she settled on a small chuckle.
"You do know that twenty dollars isn't enough compensation for that coat, right?" she remarked a bit sarcastically, although it came off in a joking tone. "Not that the bum paid for it, I guess. I'm betting he just grabbed it off the rack of some North Face store or something."
She looked back at Hellhound, still waiting for him to emerge from the shadows. "How have you been, Hellhound?" she asked, more in an attempt to begin a coversation.
@crane ||
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Apr 14, 2018 22:04:23 GMT
Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2018 22:04:23 GMT
"He can buy several at a Goodwill, and I'm doing fine, thank you." Michael stepped out of the darkness, knowing that the reporters were probably far off from where he was. "Always where the crimes are, eh? I was actually just walking by and saw that it happened. I've been....branching out as of lately."
Michael wanted to put his hands into the pockets of the coat, but decided that he wouldn't risk getting stabbed by someone's drug needle. "And you can call me Michael when not reporting, no one would really believe a bum if they overhear us anyway."
Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled out a bag of Jerky. Pulling a piece out, he took a bite of it and then handed the bag over to Liz, offering her a piece of his snack. Changing from one form to another always made him a bit hungry, he didn't know if this was psychological or biological, but he was glad he got into the habit of carrying things with him. "I'm also guessing you want a one on one with the hero?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 17, 2018 2:45:45 GMT
Liz Evander "A reporter's job is never done!" She said in evidently faux-cheerfulness, wondering if--but not entirely expecting--Michael to get the reference. Taking two pieces from his bag of snacks, Liz held the beef jerky up and nodded, a silent thank-you passing by before she popped one into her mouth. "You know, usually when people are conversing in places like this, they're sharing a cigarette, leaning on walls and being very noir-esque. Beef jerky's a breath of fresh air."
Liz took in the surroundings, getting quite used to the atmosphere at this point. It wasn't everyday that her interviews took place in a shady alleyway. "And yes, you can say it's a one-on-one, albeit without the notepads and the audio recordings and the picture takings. Less professional and more...as acquaintances, what do you say?"
The last time they had a conversation (which was more like a few seconds of verbal exchange before Hellhound went poof!), Liz had speculated that the young shapeshifter had a mild aversion to the public press, and maybe everything that went with it, so she took note to tone down her journalistic tendencies the next time they crossed paths.
Maybe this time it'll be more than a few seconds.
"Michael, huh? Fitting name for a protector of men," She remarked, quite surprised that he casually revealed his name to her. Their first meeting didn't exactly include proper introductions, rather it had only been Liz who introduced herself at that time, as well as the fact that she was a journalist. "It's a bit interesting that out of all the people you'd reveal your identity to, it had to be to a reporter. I'm curious--why?"
She took the opportunity to lean on the wall of the alley way as she listened--the place didn't exactly offer any comfortable seats. "You mentioned branching out; what plans do you have for any future heroic escapades? Surely it's more than just happening to pass by when crimes are present?"
@crane ||
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2018 6:58:20 GMT
Michael reached into his bag, pulling out a piece and eating it. "Well, my mother was a religious woman, so of course I would end up with the name of an angel. And to answer another of your questions, it's not just because you're a reporter, it's because you actually do your job, Miss Lane." Michael chuckled, hoping she caught on his joke. Putting the bag back into his pocket, he leaned up against the wall, scratching his neck as he looked around him, being cautious and making sure that no unwanted listeners were standing around.
To make things easier on the two, Michael pushed himself off of the wall and walked further into the alleyway, waving for Liz to join him. "Another thing is, I did my homework. Of all the news reporters this place has, you're the only one who didn't use it for some kind of agenda."
Michael stopped, turning around and crossing his arms over his chest. "If I want anyone to report on my actions, it would be someone who wont twist them into something else. Be it either blind appraisal or unwanted condemnation, I want the facts to be reported, Miss Liz. As for branching out, I was mostly a night worker, I worked the dead shift of sorts in the hero business, not good pay. So I can keeps things easier on myself, I plan on working the day shift now. Plus, the night shift had so many guys wanting to be Batman that it was getting a bit overcrowded. There's something for your next story, human vigilantism in America in the wake of heroes and villains. And a final note on this matter, there are just as many crimes during the day as night, I wasn't doing my job as a hero if I only protected the people at night."
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2018 3:32:58 GMT
Liz Evander "Oh, so I'm Lois Lane now, huh?" Liz shrugged, slightly shaking her head and laughing quietly. She was an investigative reporter, alright, but it would take years before she could get on par with Lois Lane, as fictional as the character may be. "I'm still a far cry from her, but eh, I guess it's better than J. Jonah Jameson, right?"
She bit a part off the last piece of jerky on her hands, eyebrows furrowing at Michael's remark about her apparently being the only legit reporter in town. "I'm flattered that you think so, Michael, but as amazing as that opinion may sound," she paused for a bit to stop leaning on the walls as Michael began to head deeper into the alleyway. "I am fortunately not the only reporter who -actually- does their job."
Liz followed with a careful air, subtly studying Michael and his movements, his mannerisms, even the tiny details that narrated his lifestyle. He wasn't like any hero she'd interviewed, but then again it wasn't like she talked to a lot of heroes. There were still many things she didn't know about the metahuman world, far too many things, and considering she was a non-meta it seemed to be not in her place to dig deeper than she should.
But she was doing so, either way.
She simply listened as he continued to talk, somehow waiting for a certain answer to come out of his mouth. Disappointingly, it never came, leading Liz to conclude even more things about the young hero. "You sure it's also not because I could go to prison if I reveal your real identity, either way?" she chuckled softly, but despite the light tone of her voice there was small, underlying intent to let him know about that fact should he not know about it already. "Either way, trust that I'll write your interview as truthfully as I can. That much I can do, aye."
It wasn't long before they reached a deeper part of the alley, at which point Liz found herself subconsciously tucking her hands inside her coat pockets. She'd been to areas like this in her past endeavors, and even with a hero around there was always no telling what could jump out of the shadows. Either way, she tried to mask the slight wariness. "No offense, but I feel that vigilantes have a more...interesting...story to tell," she admitted, wondering for a moment if she could ever get a chance encounter with a vigilante. "What do you think of them, Michael? Ever encountered any vigilantes in your nightly escapades?"
@crane ||
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