Virgil Hawkins (future_shocked) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-10-01 19:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | alesta summers (future plot), virgil hawkins/static(future plot) |
Who: Alesta and Virgil
What: patrolling.
When:October 1st. Late night.
Where: bad side of town.
Warnings: TBA.
He'd lost day. A full day. He couldn't remember when Bart asked him what they did just yesterday. That they were looking for the younger him. The kid wasn't at the Bradbury..where had he gone? He had a feeling even if he asked him, he wouldn't get any answers, it wasn't like he knew. It was frustrating. Angering even. Something happened and he couldn't explain it, couldn't fix it. Bart wanted too, he knew that..but he didn't want Bart going after Damien on a hunch. That guy was dangerous. A total moron, but dangerous. Bart was convinced that he'd done something. Virgil knew he and Damien had this weird antagonistic relationship. He didn't want to be the reason Bart got pulled back into that. He was angry..seething. Damien had the power to make people forget, to dig around in their memory. It was speculation, but justified speculation. Damien had been in his head that was the last place he wanted that creep.
The night was cool, but not unbearably. It was Los Angeles. The winters never froze over like they used to in Dakota. It was cool enough for sweaters, but anything more than a jacket and chances were it was too much. Virgil was in uniform, so dressing for the weather didn't matter. He was working out the stress and worry by picking off criminals before they even got the chance to hurt anyone by finishing their crime sprees. Standing ontop of an unmarked delivery truck as it pulled infront of a bank that had shut down for the evening, he watched the two men in the front start to get out of the truck. He'd been tailing it for a while from the sky, watching it mark it's targets. "Past banking hours guys." He said as he slid so he was hanging in the window, half over the side of the big rig laying on his stomach. "If you want to make a deposit, normal hours are nine to five." He quipped. They weren't even wearing masks. Cocky. They at least seemed startled by the masked hero type in their window with the electric glowing fists. Virgil grabbed the first one and sent him flying out of the truck onto his back. The second scrambled out all by himself.
"Good choice. " He said as he slid down the side of the rig and landed flat on the concrete below. The first he'd thrown was reaching for a gun. Virgil shook his head a bit and gave a dramatic sigh. "You guys just never learn do you?" A single stream of carefully aimed and naturally magnetically powered electricity sifted through the weapon's barrel, rendering it useless when he went to pull the trigger he received a nasty shock instead. Quite literally. Static watched as smoke rose into the sky from the frizzy tips of the man's hair. The jolt had gone straight through him, paralyzing him. "Hope they have good hair stylists in jail, that look could use some help." His hair had exploded into a fro mess.
Virgil had almost forgotten about the second one, he was getting up on the other side of the truck and backing away, he started to run.