nextgenerationmarvel | This Is My Life. This Is My Song. I'll Fight The Powers That Be.

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[character] marcelo alencar da silva

This Is My Life. This Is My Song. I'll Fight The Powers That Be.

Marcelo had started regular patrolling in earnest when he wasn't trying to spend the night with Stephanie. It felt good to get the suit on. It covered his scars well and he had added a little protection to the spots where a sword had run straight through his body. In addition to his normal patrols, he used what little superhuman power he had to keep tabs on what Sebastian Shaw was doing. Since he could listen to things at a distance and fine tune his hearing from there, he tried to be careful not to blip on any of Shaw's cronies' radar.

Though that was where he picked up Shaw had put a bounty on Marcelo Alencar da Silva's head. The target wondered if this was the first time the same man had bounties on his head for two separate identities. He doubted it, but he liked to think he was pioneering in some way.

Ignoring the tabloid stories about him and Stephanie being on the rocks was easy enough since Marcelo didn't read tabloids nor did he have a secretary who did anymore. It was harder to ignore Helena when she scheduled a visit with him during office hours. The hour-long visit started pleasantly enough. It actually lasted that long because despite his small, almost heartfelt prayers, no business came up to interrupt the visit with his ex. It turned slightly awkward when she started sounding out if the tabloid reports were true or if Stephanie had gone to rehab or something of the sort. Then it got into well-controlled infuriating when Helena casually brought up some information she gathered about the time Stephanie and Marcelo weren't together. Marcelo was more than happy to escort Helena from his office after the hour was done.

He wasn't quite sure what the future had in store for him, but the Brazilian billionaire figured everything but the impending wedding would give him a headache at the very least.

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One moment was all it needed for Harpoon to get back on his feet and throw a slayspear at Marcelo, this one transformed into a deadly energy form that could potentially vaporize the Brazilian. Harpoon doubted his sunglasses would protect the arrogant fool from that. Without missing a beat, he drew another slayspear and advanced onto Marcelo, ready to kill him in hand-to-hand combat if need be.

Prism, clearly trying to beat Harpoon to the punch, warped a brilliant flash of light around himself into a great lance of light and heat, one that seemed capable of sustaining itself, much like a magnifying glass catching the sun.

"Fudeu a tabaca de chola," he muttered to himself. He saw the energy coming right for him. He paused for the merest of instants to get the timing right. Then he did a back handspring, bending backwards as the energy spear sped just above his chest. He would have blinked at the energy being cold had he not had more pressing concerns at hand.

He bounced backward and then used a nearby wall to bounce his way into another direction to avoid the attack from Mr. Sparkles.

He needed to get somewhere where the attacks came from one at a time. Marcelo had been to Mutant Town enough to know where Stephanie had construction going. He went around a corner and flat out ran toward a construction site.

Prism ran with Marcelo, forced to break off his sustained burst and simply trail the other man. The way his powers worked, it was hard to attack while moving. Harpoon on the other hand, seemingly melted into the urban scenery, more confidant in the shadows. He was tracking Marcelo closely, though.

Prism was annoyed, that this bleating sheep was giving them an unexpected bit of trouble. He wanted to get back, get paid and drink away his money as was his usual habit.

Harpoon just wanted to smell Marcelo's guts and feel his warm lifeblood spill out. While Marcelo rain, a slayspear streaked out of the shadows, this one laced with far less energy, just enough to make it fly straighter and faster.

Marcelo spotted the tall fence surrounding one of the construction projects. Thankfully, some lidded trash cans were outside the fence. He aimed for those. It would be easier to go up and over than fiddle with opening a gate.

Mindful of the people he was facing could attack at a distance. He zigged and then zagged slightly to throw off their aim. He reward for remembering not to run in a straight line was a spear of crackling energy flying right by his ear. He reached up and rubbed his ear to get warmth back into it. The last thing he needed was to lose an ear to frostbite.

His feet pounded against pavement before he leapt on top of the trash cans in a brief stop before jumping up to vault over the top of the fence.

Prism blasted his way through the fence leading up to the construction site. He stopped for a second to blast Marcelo again. Harpoon on the other hand, remained largely invisible, though Marcelo could probably hear enough to know that he was still around. Disturbingly, the man sounded like he was ahead of Marcelo.

Well, rushing into spear-throwing man did not sound like a good option. Though how that adversary got ahead of him was beyond Marcelo's ability to discern at the moment. He chalked it up to being superpowered.

The chunks of fence were still raining down when Marcelo spun around and charged at the freshly made hole. He used his dodge to the side to start his ginga again. Just for a moment then he was in a semi-crouch with his forward arm swinging down toward the ground. As he stepped around with the motion of his arm, the leg he was not going to kick with bent to keep his torso lower and out of the way. His kicking leg stayed straight as he used the torque to explode a half moon shapped kick toward the sparkly mutant's torso.

Call it a fortunate shot, but the kick seemed to have the desired influence as the mutant not only went down, but actually broke into big ragged, razor-sharp chunks against Marcelo's feet. Prism's face took on a horrified, surprised look just before that too clattered to the ground and broke.

Harpoon remained at large, however.

"Meu pau de óculos..." Marcelo stared for a moment at what he had done. He hadn't meant to... kill the man. Just knock him out.

Though he pushed that concern to the back of his mind. It was something for later. Instead, he ran back out the hole and over the crunchy bits of the shattered mutant.

He still had one assassin after him. He thought the better point of valor of the moment was to get away while he was not dead.

Harpoon's lips curved slightly at the kick. So the man had some fight in him. He liked that. He did wonder, idly, why Sinister hadn't dispatched someone like Arclight to deal with the situation. But that was neither here nor there. When the man paused for the slightest of moments, he threw a pair of slayspears as quickly as he could, each one charged with a high dose of energy.

Much as he wanted to feel the warmth of the man's blood, this was a job. And jobs needed to be done.

Marcelo dove to avoid the energy harpoons coming and him; he rolled into a crouch in the middle of the street. Then he ran down the middle of it in wide open spaces.

He hoped there were traffic cams around here. Or that a man running down the middle of a New York street would draw attention at some point. Just so he had witnesses. He needed people to see him die if it came to that.

But right now, out in the open and putting distance between him and his attacker gave him a chance to keep moving and dodging.

Harpoon didn't have many slayspears left. He'd have to be careful with them. He was dimly aware that it suited Marcelo that this remain public. He'd have to make him reconsider that.

Three slayspears. He'd have to make them count. He spied a chance. He hurled it in Marcelo's general direction, this one charged with explosive energy.

But it'd never connect.

Not Marcelo. It, did, however, explode close enough to him to kill two bystanders and horribly injure another one. Screams of agony filled the air.

"You chose this. Their death is on you." Harpoon said quietly. He drew another slayspear.

Edited 2014-03-15 23:54 (UTC)

He skidded to a stop after ducking away from the blast. He looked in horror at the innocents caught in this.

He heard what the man said.

"Vá se fuder, peça da puta merda!" Words couldn't do much, but it was all he had at the moment. It could buy him a second to find a place to lead this murderer. As much as he wanted to help the one still screaming in pain, he needed some place to lead the mutant hunting him.

If he stayed still, he was a dead man, so Marcelo started running again. He headed toward a narrow alley.

Harpoon didn't bother to finish off the maimed young man. His screams would haunt his prey for the rest of what would be a very short life. Along the way, he noticed a convenient piece of metal tubing, which he picked up. It wouldn't fly as well as his slayspears, but it could be converted into energy.

It'd serve.

Now that Marcelo was in a narrower alleyway, it would be harder for him to avoid. He picked up the metal tubing he'd found, charged it with as much explosive energy as it would hold and hurled it at Marcelo.

This would be like shooting fish in a barrel. If the fish hadn't studied capoeira most of their lives and could give free runners a challenge. There was a dumpster in the alley at some point. That there was and it was near a fire escape was just what he needed.

Rather than using the dumpster for momentary cover like planned, he jumped and pulled himself on top of it. Marcelo then used it to launch himself at the first level of the fire escape. He hoped his capoeira-honed arms and legs got him just far enough.

His hopes were almost dashed until the dumpster blew up behind him and gave him enough of a boost.

Harpoon sneered somewhat. The obvious boost up to the fire escape had been blown up with the slayspear. This man was clearly far from ordinary, even if he wasn't a mutant of some kind. He hooked one of his slayspears up against the ladder with a leap and vaulted himself up that way.

But it cost him a few seconds, and in the end, his second last slayspear. He had only the one left now. There'd be no more throwing. He needed to close with Marcelo and finish this.

Marcelo scrambled up the fire escape as fast as he could. He needed the roof. He also hoped no one was on the roof. Just him and the assassin.

He used his hands to help pull himself up faster when just running was not fast enough.

Marcelo probably had an edge on speed relative to Harpoon, though eventually, it would stop. He didn't know the Brazilian's stamina, but he'd yet to encounter a man without special powers who could keep running as long as he could hunt.

Just after Marcelo got up on the roof, Harpoon came up. He gripped his slayspear in a fighting stance.

"Nowhere to run. Fight or fall."

No other buildings were close enough for a sure jump. He'd end this soon.

No escape. Which wasn't the Brazilian's plan. He was starting to get short of breath. He turned to face the fire escape when he got halfway across the roof.

That he didn't have a spear immediately chucked at him made Marcelo think the spears were running low.

He raised a hand and waved for the assassin to come at him. "Come merda e vai pro inferno."

Harpoon could see that Marcelo was short of breath. His prey was getting tired, though he wasn't finished yet. He was clearly trying to bait him into an attack.

Harpoon advanced, but circled around as well, making Marcelo keep a close eye on him. He never really pressed close, just getting in close enough range that he could jab with his slayspear, goading the Brazilian towards the edge and the street below.

Despite breathing hard, Marcelo started the ginga as the assassin prodded at him. He could guess where he was being herded.

He allowed himself to be herded that way. It wouldn't be dangerous for only him that way.

Harpoon knew that he had to keep on the good side of the ledge once it got closer. He played a fairly conservative game, jabbing with his harpoon, short controlled attacks that were probably not so difficult to dodge, but very hard to properly counter.

He wished he had another few slayspears, but it couldn't be helped. At least this way, he'd get to see the look in his eyes when he killed the man.

Marcelo was feinting a few counters but not really trying to get anything through. He needed to gauge how the man handled his spear and the length of his reach.

"Spears going limp, cagalhão?" His heels were just about hitting the ledge. Marcelo needed to do something soon or Stephanie was going to be widowed before ever getting married.

Harpoon had been playing, really. It was a game. He jabbed quickly, without commitment. And Marcelo seemed to be doing the same.

The Brazilian was up against the wall.

It was time to strike now.

Harpoon struck the most stable stance he could and drove the spear, as fast and as hard as he could, right towards the Brazilian's chest.

Stable, while good for footing, did not offer the flexibility that a master capoeirista had. Marcelo was not trying to block the spear strike; instead, he tried evading. The attack was at his chest, so he went under it. He spun around and kicked a sweep at one of the man's legs.

Harpoon had put a bit too much weight into a shot that he was counting on being too fast for Marcelo to properly counter or evade. Suddenly his weight was a bit too far forward. And then Marcelo's feet were sweeping at him.

By themselves, one of the other might not have been a substantial problem. Even combined, he'd have been able to recover easily if he hadn't been on a ledge. But he stumbled forward and then there was the ledge.

And then the inevitable fall several stories down onto the ground. It was only about a second before everything went black for him.

All that was left was a crushed broken shell of a man, blood oozing from every orifice.

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vesper_verde - 2014-03-16 02:05 (UTC) - Expand

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