You are (Not) the Heroes IC

Hey hey everypony, it's your favorite DJ on your favorite radio broadcast! I'm Wave from the Maretropolis Airwave, giving you the skinny on the latest, every hour, every day.

This time on the MAW, we have exclusive reports on the latest heist from the Hooligang, who struck the Maretropolis Central Bank just half an hour ago. Thanks to the timely intervention of the Power Ponies, there were no casualties and no losses. That's right, folks, Maretropolis' guardian angels just saved your savings - so be thankful!

That's all for breaking news - ponies driving down Rollypolly Avenue might want to take another route as there's a big traffic jam, but other than that it's another day in Maretropolis. Back to the tunes, this time courtesy of the lovely Sapphire Shores with a classic - Head over Hooves for You...

It's a lazy afternoon in Maretropolis. The sun is shining, fluffy clouds drift across the sky, and sirens are wailing somewhere downtown, as per usual. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

In the Central Park, however, something is afoot. By an unpopular, tucked away fountain sits a pony wearing a formal suit and shades, carrying a briefcase and occasionally glancing down at his watch impatiently. He's waiting for someone - a few someones, in fact. Several very special individuals.

He looks up, down to his watch, back up again - there they are. Each walking down a separate path to the fountain, each bearing a different costume, each striking a unique silhouette in the dappled paths shadowed by tree-cover.

The Crimson Chef. Dove Colt. The Wolfpack. Madame Mask. Trapshot. ...Daff?

Six heroes, from vastly different walks of life, united by a singular desire to right the wrongs of the world - and maybe a little resentment and jealousy of the power ponies.

The pony nods as they approach, standing up and regarding the approaching heroes silently.

It had been weird, not being a superhero anymore.

At first Flaming had been alright with the change, finding it easier to dedicate himself to being a chef without having to deal with the odd injury or having to worry about getting the call to arms to go out and fight crime... But it was strange how much free time he had found himself with after he had hang up the apron of the Crimson Chef and no matter what he tried to do he couldn't seem to find anything to fill the time with that felt... right. His cooking had suffered from the situation as well... somewhat. It was still restaurant worthy, but he had lacked the normal passion that he put into his dishes.

Walking through Central Park dressed as the Crimson Chef again after all these weeks was the first time since his old group disbanded that he felt truly relaxed. Checking the time really quick to make sure he wasn't running late, he quickened his pace a little bit as he traveled down a path less traveled in order to arrive at a fountain that no one really liked visiting. Seeing a pony wearing a suit and a pair of sun glasses, Flaming took a moment to adjust his mask to make sure that it was on properly before the Crimson Chef walked up to him, offering the pony a respectful nod as he greeted them with a friendly "Good day citizen."

All who havew arrived till now, have seen a Zebra sitting close to the fountain, just far enough a way to not overhear anything, studying out of a notebook and a few other books. Shortly after the Crimson chef arrives, a stray dog begins wandering around the two ponies already gathered, giving both of you a look as if it wants to be pet. a few moments pass and the two that are gathered allready here a voice in their heads saying: ThE WoLfPaCk Is LiStEnInG

"He's really cool / he does great in school / he totally rules / It's Dove Colt~" Pidgin hums as he skips along the park path. He really does love the park - plenty of birds to talk to, lots of space to fly around, and most importantly there's always a bully or two picking on his friends that he can scare.

Pidgin stops for a moment, thinking about that. Bullies? Really? He used to take on robbers and super-powered bad guys. Now all he does is feed birds and scare off the occasional playground bully. Granted it's easier to focus on school now that he doesn't have to worry about his grades slipping if he fights crime during study time. Still, it feels off, not using his powers for the good fight. Lulamoon had given him the feather so he can do good, not entertain himself when he's bored.

Noticing another superhero already there, Pidgin smirks, deciding to take a more dramatic approach. Taking a moment to whisper to a few pigeon friends, a massive flock of pigeons suddenly converge on his location, and in a giant burst of feathers, throws him up into the air, arcing towards the two ponies by the fountain. As he flips through the air, trailing doves and feathers, he shouts "GOOD AFTERNOON!" before halting his fall a few feet off the air with another burst of feathers, allowing him to land neatly as a shower of white feathers drifts down around him.

Turning to smile at the other superhero, he waves excitedly. "Hi!"

Abilties:

When Madame Mask arrived, she arrived in a pair. Herself and... herself. As they get close to the formal pony, they split up a bit to move to either side of the group that had already formed around the pony, staying silent to not ruin the illusion...

(Signature Spectacle)

Trapshot uses her telekinesis to adjust the rifle across her back as she approaches the fountain, silently taking in her surroundings.

It had been about a month since she turned her father, the former Calamity Bandit, over to the police. She'd done her darnedest to strike it out as a hero and destroy whatever was left of his villainous legacy. Easier said than done, she quickly learned: The Power Ponies' monopoly on superheroics had already put away most of the city's scumbags. Trapshot had managed to catch all of one bad guy on her own since she came to this town, and even that was pure serendipity; the Power Ponies weren't very well going to intrude on accidentally discovering 10GB of filly porn on a random stranger's cell phone, were they?

Pushing her thoughts from her mind, she greets the well-dressed stranger with a tip of her hat. This was her last shot at staying blueside.

"Ho-"

She's immediately cut off by Dove Colt's greeting. She impatiently waits for him to finish his display, then repeats her own greeting.

"Howdy."

The air is cool and crisp, with the slightest taste of hot pavement and fountain water carried in the breeze. Mottled shadows dance with spots of light across the ground beneath the trees. A distant, rapid squeaksqueaksqueak comes from somewhere behind a hill before a large stallion appears at its peak. The pony has an ice cream cart, complete with a dispenser. It is shaped like a giant waffle cone with a neon pink scoop. On its front is a cartoonishly drawn logo, right above a blackboard with faded prices written in chalk. The prices look as if they haven't been rewritten since winter was last wrapped up.

As the cart makes its way over the crest of the hill, the squeaking gets louder. Rapidly. This is largely because the pony is not pushing the ice cream cart, but riding on top of it, and the cart is now beginning to barrel down the slope and at a quickly accelerating speed. Its one wonky wheel quickly goes from a squeak-squeak to a steady high-pitched sqsqsqsqsqueeeeeeeeeek!.

On top of the stallion is a squirrel, who currently has his eyes closed and is gripping the pony's head with a death-grip using all four paws.

The stallion jumps off, hooking his forehooves into the handles of the cart and digging his back hooves into the ground. A loud, screeching sound that joins the wailing of the squeaky wheel as his horseshoes scrape against the cement of the sidewalk.

The cart, pony, and squirrel all go into a spin, coming to a stop just in time to avoid ramming right into the fountain.

"YEAAAAAAAAAH!" the stallion bellows enthusiastically. "FEAR NOT, LITTLE PONIES! ROUSSEAU AND DAFF ARE HERE!... Though we do not yet know why!"

There's a pause as the pony looks around, seeming a little baffled at the details of the gathering of people, which apparently includes a pair of twins, a dog, a curious cloud of feathers drifting through the breeze, a departing flock of pigeons (which would explain the feathers, now that he thinks about it), and several other colorfully costumed ponies.

The squirrel on Daff's head slips down the back of the pony's neck and covers his eyes.

The pony surveys the group for a moment before taking off his shades, revealing the storm grey eyes underneath. Speaking slowly, but clearly, the pony says, “Thank you for accepting my… invitation. I represent a few select individuals in the city who believe that it’s high time Maretropolis gained new guardians.”

Opening his briefcase, he shows a few pictures of the power ponies locked in furious combat with a group of villains. The final picture shows the Power Ponies defeated on the streets. Anyone conscious of recent news would know that this comes from a confrontation between the Power Ponies and an alliance between several high-profile villains - the Power Ponies were trounced in their initial encounter, but managed to defeat the villains in their second bout.

“As you can see, the Power Ponies have become… unreliable. There is little doubt that they remain competent heroes, but there are individuals in the city who consider them… loose cannons.”

Another few pictures appear, this time depicting the aftermath of several confrontations between villains and the Power Ponies. The streets look devastated, sheets of ice and scorch marks coating the concrete where the Masked Matterhorn’s beams missed, upturned bins and broken carriages where Fili-Second and Mistress Mare-velous tussled with their opponents, and most strikingly, cracks in the stonework where Saddle-Rager and Zapp unleashed their fury.

“They feed on the praise that the citizens shower on them, and it has gone to their heads. They consider Maretropolis their city, under their jurisdiction. They have little regard for caution nor proper authority.” The pony stows away the photos, shutting the briefcase with a quiet snap. “We have been urged by influential individuals in the city to find a response, and you, my good heroes, are the response that they seek.”

“Each of you are remarkably effective individuals, and although alone or in smaller groups you are perhaps less efficient than the Power Ponies, we believe that as a team, you have potential to surpass the Power Ponies,” the pony slides his shades back on and stands up. “If you win the heart of the city, sway support from them to you… perhaps Maretropolis will once again be her own city.”

He turns to look around at the individuals assembled before him, his sight sweeping by each hero with an analytical air to it. “Is there anything more you need to know before making a decision?”

The pair of ponies smile. "An opportunity to knock the Power Ponies down a peg? You know how to win over a lady, monsieur." While both copies are moving their mouth, more perceptive ponies will know it's the leftmost one making the noise...

"I mean, I wouldn't mind showing up those show-stealers," Dove Colt says, adjusting his magician's hat. "But yeah, I have a question. Just who the hay are you? I learned about stranger danger, you know."

Some of you may notice the Zebra glancing in your direction before all of you hear the following projected right into your heads: ThE PaCk AgReEs WiTh ThIs CoLt, WhO aRe YoU aNd WhO iS yOuR aLpHa?

Trapshot breaks into a smirk.

"It's a little late for the 'stranger danger' talk, kid," she chuckles, "seein' as how you been standin' in a park with six ponies you barely know the names of."

Her smirk falters as her eyes turn toward the pony with the briefcase.

"You do got a point, though," she adds. "What's to say this won't bite us hard later on if we take you up on this?"

Looking around at the various ponies (and one wolf) that had come to this meeting, Crimson Chef listened calmly as the currently nameless pony with the shades gave his proposition. He could understand why some ponies would want to see the Power Ponies brought down a peg (the disbandment of his own super group merely one of many after all) but there was something about this situation that just seemed... off to him. Like there was some kind of game being played behind closed doors and the group that they were about to form was merely just another piece on the board. Taking a moment to look around at those who were present, he recognized all of them by name and reputation easily enough; Among other things, one of his jobs for his old group was to run public relations and that required being in the know about who was who and what they had done in the past.

Looking towards their 'benefactor' for a moment, he tried to read the stallion for a moment before he asked a very important question "If I might be so bold, what happens if during a battle with some kind of villain, our battle causes collateral damage?"

Dice Rolls:

Smoothly, the pony reaches into a jacket pocket and draws out a small stack of cards. He holds the cards out for each of the ponies, as well as glancing in the direction of the zebra before carefully passing one of the cards to the wolf.

“Reasonable concerns,” The pony says. “You may call me Ferrum. I represent an organization who would rather remain anonymous at this point in time, but for now…” he briefly flashes a badge that can be recognized as the Maretropolis police emblem “…know that our cause is officially sanctioned, if that alleviates your suspicion. That card facilitates communication between me and you, if need be. The magic is limited and recharges daily, so only use it in urgent situations.”

Turning to Crimson Chef, Ferrum says, “Which brings me to my next point. As you know, the Power Ponies have a trust fund from which they use to pay for reparations. Your group, if you accept our request, would be operating off a budget. Any reparations will come out of that budget, but simultaneously, any supplies and necessary equipment can also come out of the budget - which, for some of the more… technologically reliant of you, I know will be quite the valuable opportunity. I believe that should more than make up for the inconvenience of changing your modus operandi.”

Just looking at Ferrum, Trapshot thinks that, even if there’s obviously something he’s hiding, it’s probably just to protect the privacy of whomever was sponsoring the operation. The Crimson Chef also feels that Ferrum isn’t telling the whole story, but likewise, probably not for malicious reasons. Still, with the way he carries himself, Ferrum definitely isn’t an average pony, but exactly what’s up with him is a little hard to figure out.

Crimson accepted the card willingly. This whole operation still sounded somewhat shady to him but he had made up his mind to accept the offer regardless of how shady it might have been; He could do a lot more about the situation if things weren't on the level from within the group itself then without while it provided him with a good chance to do superhero like things again. "Thank you for this opportunity Mr Ferrum. I look forward to working with you and the rest of my teammates to keep our fair city safe."

Tucking the card into the apron of his outfit, he glanced around at his teammates to see how they were going to respond before he asked "Would it be wrong to assume that you will also be providing us with a means of tracking down crime quicker then the Power Ponies? We can't fight crime and look good if they always beat us to the crime scene after all."

The dog takes the card carefully into its mouth before your thoughts are invaded again by a new message: WeLl If We CaN cOnTiNuE tO fEeD oN tHe CaSuLtIeS oF oUr HuNt FoR jUsTiCe ThE PaCk WiLl SuPpOrT yOu. If AnY oF yOu FeLlOw HeRoEs ArE wIlLiNg, OuR AlPhA can EsTaBlIsH a OnE wAy TeLePaThIc CoNnEcTiOn

Trapshot takes a card with her telekinesis and tucks it into one of the pockets of her vest. Her concern is far from alleviated, but Ferrum did show a badge, and hasn't shown any outward signs of hostility as of yet.

"Reckon that should come up in the bargain," she says in response to Crimson's query. She turns her attention to Ferrum. "Even if we did have somethin' faster than Fili-Second to get us there, it wouldn't help us at all if the Power Ponies busted in and started blowin' everything up. I take it you've got some kinda smokescreen in mind to keep them out of our manes?"

Daff chuckles over the shoulders of the others as the pictures are shown. "Oh, I like that one! Look at all that damage! Uh, could I have that one over there?" he asks, pointing a hoof at one of the photos. "Saddle Rager's my favorite."

Sliverbrony wrote:WeLl If We CaN cOnTiNuE tO fEeD oN tHe CaSuLtIeS oF oUr HuNt FoR jUsTiCe ThE PaCk WiLl SuPpOrT yOu. If AnY oF yOu FeLlOw HeRoEs ArE wIlLiNg, OuR AlPhA can EsTaBlIsH a OnE wAy TeLePaThIc CoNnEcTiOn

The stallion jerks abruptly upright at the voice pushing its way into his mind. "Did you hear that? Rousseau says he's going to eat anypony that stands in the way of his justice! Look at him, he's shaking with excitement!" He looks back at the squirrel, who is, in fact shaking and still clinging to the stallion's back. Rousseau looks slightly dizzy, like he has ever since the roll down the hill.

"Though he sounds usually sounds different. I think he might have a psychic cold. But that won't stop us! We accept!" he announces as he takes the card, which he immediately attempts to activate.

"Test, test, test!"

Madame Mask levitates her card and slides it into her outfit as the others are talking. The fake Madame Mask, who does not receive a card, seems disappointed, and vanishes into quickly dissipating smoke...

"Hmm." Dove Colt eyes him suspiciously for a few seconds more before breaking into a wide smile. "Okay! I'll join up."

“We have… inside sources.” Ferrum says, indicating at the card. “We can stay one step ahead of the Power Ponies - as well as the criminals.”

“And… Daff, please, like this.” He takes a card out from his pocket and holds it close to his muzzle.

“Sunglow,” he says, enunciating clearly, and suddenly everyone’s card glows gold for a moment before his voice comes through. “Moonbright.” The cards turn off.

He seems entirely unfazed by Madame Mask’s display, but his ear does flick slightly. “I thank you all for agreeing to this endeavor, here’s hoping this will be a fruitful partnership.”

“That is all I was here to talk about, and I’m sure you all have better things to do than to talk to a faceless agent.” Ferrum picks up the briefcase, and after giving everyone a polite nod, starts to walk off down a path back to the more popular parts of the park.

Trapshot levitates her own card from her pocket and rotates it in front of her in the air as Ferrum leaves.

"So now we just wait until these light up?"

After a beat, the card returns to her pocket.

"Suppose that gives us time to find us a home base and get ourselves situated, maybe get to know one another better."

General Knowledge to know of a suitable home base location: 20+18=38

Daff looks at the card in awe as it starts glowing. "They have keywords? Rousseau, we're headed to the big leagues, now!" he enthuses as he gives a friendly pat on Dove Colt's back as he also agrees to join. It's a little like getting a gentle pat on the back from a wrecking ball.

As the agent begins departing, Daff calls, "Hey, little pony! Don't you have something for us now? I get off shift in 10 minutes!"

With a sigh, he looks down at the card, then hoofs it up to Rousseau. He hopes it'll start glowing soon. He hasn't done more than stop some littering in the past week. Admittedly, it would have been a LOT of littering if he hadn't stopped it. No doubt a great blow to the ecological state of the park. But there had to be more exciting things in store, somewhere, somehow!

He gives an enthusiastic nod to Trapshot. "Yes, if we're going to be a team of awesome and justice, we should know what name to yell when something is flying towards another pony's head," he states philisophically.

"This flying, psychic, magic dire-squirrel is Rousseau. Don't worry, he looks very fierce, but he's quite friendly. And I'm his partner, Daff." He pauses, looks up at the squirrel now perched on his head and looking down at him. "His sidekick," he corrects before looking at Trapshot.

"Rousseau says you look familiar. Were you in the newspaper before? Rousseau likes the crosswords. Were you one of the answers?" He turns to look at the remaining Madame Mask. "And weren't there two of you?"

Crimson's brow narrowed a little at Ferrum's claim of 'inside sources', clearly not trusting the agent or whatever hidden methods that his organization was going to be using but not raising any objections at the moment; that would be playing his hoof far to early after all.

Still, as the 'faceless' agent left and the team started to discuss things that all superhero teams needed to discuss at one time or another (Base locations, team name, ect), the Crimson Chef instead made his way over to the icecream cart that Daff and the... flying, psychic, magic dire-squirrel Rousseau had brought with them. Opening up the freezer compartment to see what supplies he had to work with when it came to raw resources. Taking at his wallet and making a point to pay for everything that he was going to use (This did seem to be Daff's business and he wasn't about to rob somepony of their livelihood), Crimson got to work making the best treat possible that he could with the limited supplies of an ice cream vendors cart for everyone that was apart of the team. Nothing like a good dessert to raise everyone's spirits and help bind a team together after all!

"I am the Crimson Chef. It is a pleasure to meet you all and I hope that we will be able to work together in order to become a successful crime fighting team. While our... benefactors are being most generous in their offers to help us find crime, maybe once we've set ourselves up as a team we should consider working out patrols or setting up our own system for finding crime; If nothing else it'll help keep us on our hooves."

Dice Rolls:

"Oof!" Pidgin staggers as Daff gives him a friendly pat, but recovers quickly, rubbing his back uncomfortably.

When the Crimson Chef starts preparing food, however, he brightens up significantly. "Ooh, I get it now. You cook. That's why your costume is an apron..."

"Anyway, hi everypony - and zebra... and wolf... and squirrel," Dove Colt says, bouncing on the spot excitedly. "I haven't really teamed up with anyone before, but, uh - I'm Dove Colt, the Avian Afic- affi- uh- Aficionado. Yeah! Uh, I can like, shoot birds and stuff. And talk to them. And fly a little bit sometimes. What do you do?" He asks the group in general, looking around at the heroes.