Defiant Hero - Tumblr Posts
Defiance
“Surrender yourself,” his voice boomed through rapidly-emptying event courtyard, courtesy of the poor-sound tech being held hostage.
“Or I will destroy this city.”
Hero faced the final remaining civilian, gesturing towards Villain with his thumb.
“This guy can’t be serious.”
The hostage stared blankly, vaguely shaking next to the sound equipment.
“I am most definitely being serious,” the villain hissed, “Now, come with me.”
It was not a request. The command was like ice on his tongue, meant to freeze any thoughts of defiance.
Unluckily for him, Hero liked the cold.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Hero responded, following it up by spinning and landing a solid right hook with record-breaking speed.
Wrong move.
Villain saw it coming, allowing the hero’s fist to collide with his face as an opportunity to grab his arm and twist, wrenching it behind his back.
The civilian intelligently took their cue to run.
“If you don’t start listening to me, this is going to get ugly-”
Hero rammed their elbow back into the villain and ducked, slipping their arm out the hold and sweeping at Villain’s legs.
Unfortunately, Villain was built like a tree and did not wobble, leaving Hero to scurry away a few feet before rising.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?”
Hero stayed back, measuring his next move carefully.
“You know what I-”
Villain was forced to take a step back as Hero rushed forward and landed a series of successful gut punches.
“I couldn’t hear over the loudness of your ego.”
Villain stuttered as he tried to discard his affrontedness to parry the attacks. As strong and strategic as he was, he was still no match for the hero’s next combination.
The heel of his palm struck the villain’s nose in a flash while his left fist flew and found its target behind the ear. Villain now sported a bloody nose and a dazed look on his face, forgotten fists falling limply to his sides.
A final kick and he was down, lying flat on his back on the concrete. He immediately grabbed his head, groaning and rolling over pathetically.
Hero laughed, victorious.
“Now who’s surrendering?”
The Art of Being a Good Hostage
“This seems to be our favorite way of meeting,” Villain pointed out when he reached a less-than-amused Vigilante crouched in the group next to another vigilante with a substantial chest wound.
“I’d prefer if you just robbed a coffee shop next time,” she replied begrudgingly.
She stopped fretting over the man on the floor long enough to turn out her pockets and shake at her clothes dramatically. Immediately after she was finished, she turned away from Villain without a second thought.
Unfortunately, Villain was not done with her yet.
He dropped a large zip tie at her feet. She slowly looked down to where it had fallen, then back up to the villain, eyes filled with fire. This was going to be a fight.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated, as if to leave no room for argument.
“Put it on,” he rebutted, better accomplishing a tone of finality.
“I wouldn’t leave him.”
Vigilante looked back to the ground, and Villain was inclined to believe her. The vigilante had her convictions, and she stuck to them. Still, Villain had his.
“One hand, then. To his.” Villain nodded to the unconscious vigilante.
A compromise: and the best she would get.
Villain stayed long enough to watch Vigilante reluctantly follow the order and hear the click of the tightening restraint before moving further down the line. He pointedly ignored her defiant demeanor and unsavory hand gestures as he assessed the rest of the room.
He finished his count at fifteen fighters under his control. Most had substantial wounds, two were currently unconscious (but breathing; he checked) with Vigilante fairing the best off of all. That was to be expected with how she involved herself in these things, sidelines and damage control. From what Villain could tell, she mostly suffered a bleeding slash on her left leg, which she had already tended to, so he could probably trust she wouldn’t be running whether her hands were free or not.
Overall, not a bad hostage collection for Villain.
Vigilante had already taken care of most of the immediate first aid, tourniquets and makeshift splints scattered throughout the small crowd. Villain took the liberty of moving some of the injured around, grouping the most severe for closer supervision and restraining the less severe for security’s sake.
Speaking of Vigilante, she had not stopped aggressively staring daggers at his back since he had left her tied to her fellow vigilante. He pretended not to notice, but secretly he found it extremely amusing.
She was tenacious, he’d give her that.
The sound of a megaphone shouting outside the atrium signaled the arrival of the negotiation crew.
Showtime.
Villain scanned the group at his feet again, but he already had his relayer picked out. Who better than the queen of cooperation herself?
Villain strutted over to where Vigilante still sat awkwardly on her knees with a hand attached to her technical coworker. She didn’t look up from where she was studying his breathing, but it was obvious she sensed his approach from the scowl fixed on her face. He dropped a small multi tool in front of her.
“I trust I don’t need to threaten you?”
Vigilante just scoffed while clipping her restraint before rolling to her feet and rubbing passive-aggressively at her previously-tied wrist. This was not her first rodeo. She walked confidently towards the doors, albeit with a slight limp, slowing only to hear Villain call his instructions from behind her.
“Accept the phone. Keep it with you, but shut the door once you have it.”
She cracked open the door to retrieve the phone tossed on the ground there.
He didn’t really have much to worry about with her. In the field she was crafty, but once she had surrendered she stayed down. Being allowed around all kinds of operators to perform damage control required a certain level of trust, one that was extremely hard to build and extremely easy to break. She cared about saving lives, and did what she needed to make that possible.
Even if that meant being a mediator in a hostage situation on behalf of the man holding her hostage.
“They want to talk to you,” she called from near the blacked-out windows on the other side of the lobby.
“Not happening. I demand a delivery.”
“What kind?”
“They’ll know.”
Vigilante spoke hushed into the phone, but knowingly loud enough for the villain to listen in. She repeated what he told her with a little bit of theatrical fear, just as a little special touch.
“Tell them I’m willing to let Hero go,” he added. Hero was the only one who hadn’t woken up yet, undoubtedly afflicted by something serious. Villain shot his body a glance from where he stood stationed by the most severe. His pulse was still detectable, but not by much.
“A good will offering?” She questioned, covering the speaker, then teased, “So unlike you, especially so early in a negotiation.”
The criminal merely shrugged, not rising to the bait.
“Call it what you want.”
He caught the smile she tried to hide as she relayed the newest information to the negotiator on the call.
She trusted they would all be going home safe in the end.
The Art of Being a Good Hostage
“This seems to be our favorite way of meeting,” Villain pointed out when he reached a less-than-amused Vigilante crouched in the group next to another vigilante with a substantial chest wound.
“I’d prefer if you just robbed a coffee shop next time,” she replied begrudgingly.
She stopped fretting over the man on the floor long enough to turn out her pockets and shake at her clothes dramatically. Immediately after she was finished, she turned away from Villain without a second thought.
Unfortunately, Villain was not done with her yet.
He dropped a large zip tie at her feet. She slowly looked down to where it had fallen, then back up to the villain, eyes filled with fire. This was going to be a fight.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated, as if to leave no room for argument.
“Put it on,” he rebutted, better accomplishing a tone of finality.
“I wouldn’t leave him.”
Vigilante looked back to the ground, and Villain was inclined to believe her. The vigilante had her convictions, and she stuck to them. Still, Villain had his.
“One hand, then. To his.” Villain nodded to the unconscious vigilante.
A compromise: and the best she would get.
Villain stayed long enough to watch Vigilante reluctantly follow the order and hear the click of the tightening restraint before moving further down the line. He pointedly ignored her defiant demeanor and unsavory hand gestures as he assessed the rest of the room.
He finished his count at fifteen fighters under his control. Most had substantial wounds, two were currently unconscious (but breathing; he checked) with Vigilante fairing the best off of all. That was to be expected with how she involved herself in these things, sidelines and damage control. From what Villain could tell, she mostly suffered a bleeding slash on her left leg, which she had already tended to, so he could probably trust she wouldn’t be running whether her hands were free or not.
Overall, not a bad hostage collection for Villain.
Vigilante had already taken care of most of the immediate first aid, tourniquets and makeshift splints scattered throughout the small crowd. Villain took the liberty of moving some of the injured around, grouping the most severe for closer supervision and restraining the less severe for security’s sake.
Speaking of Vigilante, she had not stopped aggressively staring daggers at his back since he had left her tied to her fellow vigilante. He pretended not to notice, but secretly he found it extremely amusing.
She was tenacious, he’d give her that.
The sound of a megaphone shouting outside the atrium signaled the arrival of the negotiation crew.
Showtime.
Villain scanned the group at his feet again, but he already had his relayer picked out. Who better than the queen of cooperation herself?
Villain strutted over to where Vigilante still sat awkwardly on her knees with a hand attached to her technical coworker. She didn’t look up from where she was studying his breathing, but it was obvious she sensed his approach from the scowl fixed on her face. He dropped a small multi tool in front of her.
“I trust I don’t need to threaten you?”
Vigilante just scoffed while clipping her restraint before rolling to her feet and rubbing passive-aggressively at her previously-tied wrist. This was not her first rodeo. She walked confidently towards the doors, albeit with a slight limp, slowing only to hear Villain call his instructions from behind her.
“Accept the phone. Keep it with you, but shut the door once you have it.”
She cracked open the door to retrieve the phone tossed on the ground there.
He didn’t really have much to worry about with her. In the field she was crafty, but once she had surrendered she stayed down. Being allowed around all kinds of operators to perform damage control required a certain level of trust, one that was extremely hard to build and extremely easy to break. She cared about saving lives, and did what she needed to make that possible.
Even if that meant being a mediator in a hostage situation on behalf of the man holding her hostage.
“They want to talk to you,” she called from near the blacked-out windows on the other side of the lobby.
“Not happening. I demand a delivery.”
“What kind?”
“They’ll know.”
Vigilante spoke hushed into the phone, but knowingly loud enough for the villain to listen in. She repeated what he told her with a little bit of theatrical fear, just as a little special touch.
“Tell them I’m willing to let Hero go,” he added. Hero was the only one who hadn’t woken up yet, undoubtedly afflicted by something serious. Villain shot his body a glance from where he stood stationed by the most severe. His pulse was still detectable, but not by much.
“A good will offering?” She questioned, covering the speaker, then teased, “So unlike you, especially so early in a negotiation.”
The criminal merely shrugged, not rising to the bait.
“Call it what you want.”
He caught the smile she tried to hide as she relayed the newest information to the negotiator on the call.
She trusted they would all be going home safe in the end.