Super (not-so) Hero [Private 1x1]

[stormi_weathers]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxThe Iron Youth and stormi_weathers, only.

[The Iron Youth]

""

Michael Young was perched on the edge of an apartment building, lyrica mask in hand. This was not how he had imagined his life going-- he had expected to have a small apartment, a dog maybe, definitely a pretty girlfriend, college classes, and a job, too. Though admittedly, it was hard to keep any of those around when you were awake for most of the night. Especially when you were running around with another lithe figure-- the young man turned to look to his right, but the space beside him was empty. Right-- she was gone. She'd been gone for a while now, lost to him because of his own failings, and every night he felt her absence. Every night he worked harder for her. But no laundry list of super powers could bring her back. Her loss had taken its toll, but Michael had not stopped hunting the under boss she'd gone down for.

Michael slipped the mask over his head, and took a deep breath before turning and stepping down off the lip of the building. He couldn't jump straight down-- he might damage the concrete beneath him, and he tried to avoid costing the city money. As much as a super-powered vigilante could, anyway. It was time to stop reminiscing, and the only way to stop wallowing in a pit of despair was to distract himself. Starting at a run, the young man flung himself off the roof of the building, onto the next, and the next after that, starting his nightly patrol in the residential district, which he would pass through several times during the night. A radio muttered along in his ear, a piece of equipment designed for him by a friend which allowed him to monitor police chatter. They didn't usually need his assistance, but there was always the chance that something new would be happening. Things had been too quiet for a while now.

When Michael got to the canal, he stopped, taking a moment before crossing one of the many bridges that stitched its length. It broke the city in two, with residencies and corporate skyscrapers and designer stores on one side, industrial buildings and poorer districts on the other. It was sluggish and disgusting, for the most part, but at night, it was peaceful, and it gave him a moment to think. Istov, a cold, sociopathic under boss had been moving in on various parts of the city. He had arrived from the other side of the country not more than a few years ago, and had only recently caught anyone's attention. The problem was that Michael could not find him. And the one night he had gotten close-- no, he couldn't think about that anymore. He had to find out where the boss was operating from, and he had to find out soon, before mob violence broke out across the city. Michael was pacing on the bank of the canal, spending too long in one place. Someone else could be murdered while he sat there, trying to work out a puzzle that two people hadn't even been able to work out.

He took off again, quickly climbing the bridge and wishing he had powers that increased his mobility a bit more than his durability. After all, what kind of super hero ran across a bridge? He wanted to fly, or swing on webs, or at least be wealthy had have a batmobile. But his life wasn't the colored pages of a comic book, and he continued to run, clambering up fire escapes with a significantly un-stealthy, but practiced, ease. His route was not the same, and he often doubled back, knowing that the crime he was seeking to prevent could well happen anywhere, at any moment. And then the quiet buzz in his ear caught his attention-- something big was happening.

//ooc; sorry this is a bit short-- I didn't want to drone on and on (though I may have anyway) and wanted to leave it open-ended for you, in case you had plans for their reunion.

[stormi_weathers]

Viper had set everything in place. That was what most of Scarlett's affiliates were addressing her as. So much so, that when she introduced herself to civilians, she had to concentrate on giving her real name. Although, she had slipped up once... and boy was that gas station clerk terrified. A girl walking in to buy a soda who he had happened to flirt with just a little, was actually a super villain. Poor guy nearly had a heart attack. He recognized the name, Viper, and what it meant. Scarlett was young, too young to be a villain. But most villains these days used cronies and weapons. They didn't have powers. But guess what? Scarlett did.

In the old days that were really not that long ago, she had been adequate. Run fast, hear well. She was agile and flexible, but no force by herself. That was why she was a sidekick to Michael; he was the defender of good, and she was the distraction and his backup. She had always been a seductress, but now... things had been taken to a new level. The only person who had never felt her charm was Michael, but he was a partner and not a love interest. Sure, things were electric between them sometimes, but everything changed after the accident. Scarlett and Michael were investigating a guy named Istov, who was about as icy as the bodies were that he left behind. But they could never track him down. The duo was always a step behind him, and one night, they fell into a trap. Or, Scarlett did.

Scarlett had tracked Istov to a warehouse, of course, where he was supposed to be making some big arms deal. Michael didn't go with her, when she went to check it out. It was just going to be reckon, something the girl was highly capable of. Scarlett was the one who could scale walls and hide in the shadows. So she went alone. Istov was waiting for her. As usual, he knew that the supers were coming, and netted the ceilings of the building. In the darkness, Scarlett hadn't realized that once she stood on the rafters, the ropes would fall onto her and hold her captive. She got down, but it was by men in masks, instead of her attempts at freedom. And they tied her up, using her as bait.

Scarlett did just what any good sidekick would do. She told Michael not to come. And she was a tough girl, capable of handling a lot of pain before cracking. Unfortunately, Istov was willing to cross that line; he injected her with some sort of hallucinogen, and it drove her into terror. Combine that with henchmen wailing on her, and Scarlett's tears eventually came quickly enough.

Michael didn't.

Istov was recording Scarlett's suffering, and transmitting it to the vigilante, warning Michael not to mess with the boss. Scarlett didn't really know much about how he reacted to her screaming, terror, pleading for Istov to stop, or attempts at being tough and telling Michael to stay away. Her memory went fuzzy, and only a shell of "he never came" remained. Once Scarlett woke up, genetically altered by some other injections that Istov's scientists tested on her, she vowed to never be in a position where she was waiting on someone to save her. She was finished being a sidekick, under-appreciated and always on the losing team.

Besides, now she was venomous. Scarlett's previous powers were enhanced. She was fast and could easily fit through small spaces. The only problem was that she got cold very easily. She didn't generate as much body heat as a person normally would, and just as a snake would, needed a heat source to stay warm. But, her poison made up for it. She wasn't totally sure how it worked, but the doctors she woke up to explained enough. They modified her salivary glands, so that they could excrete poison instead of normal saliva. It happened in response to anger or fear, connected to brain stimulus instead of heart rate. Scarlett was recently learning to control the production of poison just by willing it, but was still at the point of it being unreliable. She was still smart and agile, and had a mind willing to plan things extensively. That, combined with her people skills, the ability to be terrifyingly beautiful and flirtatious all at once, put her on the list of villains to look out for.

It also put her on Istov's radar. He had given her these powers, and expected her soul in repayment. Besides having to serve him in scanty attire, she was also a contracted henchman or sorts, much to her dismay. He had medicine that would keep her warmer at night, and traded it for carrying out his bidding.

Tonight was no exception. Scarlett, or rather Viper for the night, was dressed in her villainous attire. She didn't keep with the uniform of Istov's henchman, and preferred to remain aloof from the organization. She wore all black, skintight and complete with boots that hugged her feet like a second skin and gloves to his her fingerprints. Of course, by her boss's demands, the uniform did not go up to her neck, but rather ended precariously far down her chest. Scarlett had to admit that she did look like a pretty attractive super villain, and took time in the upkeep of her hair and makeup. Underneath the mask was red around her eyes and on her lips, and her long black hair flew around the clothing.

She was infiltrating a business ball, setting bombs around the party guests that would release some new gas that Istov's scientists devised. She'd be impervious to it, considering that she was venomous herself, and it made her perfect for the job. Soon enough, the timers went off and the room devolved into massive panic. Scarlett's eyes analyzed the crowd to find her target. Upon finding him, she lured him outside and into "safety," before allowing him to comment on her appearance and make moves on her. She followed along, kissing him, purring into his ear. "Istov sent me." The words terrifying the man, who tried to run, but poison was already in his system. He staggered for a few steps, until he dropped to the ground, dead. No one who double crossed Istov lived, especially when he had a snake to take care of his loose ends.

Well, it was tied now. Scarlett was taking great joy in watching the panic erupt. She had caused it. Did Michael ever incite this big of an...anything? The answer was no. Viper, well she did.

Scarlett was back, and better than ever.

((I definitely didn't mean for this to be this long. But whatevs. Go backstory! Is everything alright?))

[The Iron Youth]

""

Sirens screamed through the city-- every police car seemed to be on its way downtown. Michael tore back across the bridge, his legs carrying him faster than normal. People were dying, screaming for help-- a business gala was being attacked, gas bombs had been set off. The police didn't know what it was, but Michael knew who was at fault. Istov. The man wouldn't be there, just a number of henchmen. As the super-human darted past the line of cluttered police cars, he snatched up one of the gas masks the infiltration team had set out. He had to be fearless. The mask was jerked on over his initial mask. It was hard to breathe, but other people were more important than his comfort. He could hear the shouts of the police behind him, but they had to be ignored as well. He'd have to find a different way out.

His first thought was the fire alarms-- setting them off to dissolve the gas and take it out of the air, but the addition of water could make some sort of acid, and well. That had obvious consequences. He was up the stairs, but found the door barricaded. He could hear screaming and panic from the other side. Michael had to hope there was no one behind it. A breath, and then the man's unnatural strength allowed him to burst through the door. A few of the party-goers nearest the man let out screeches and ducked away, cowering. "This way! Let's go!" He waved at the fearful guests, who were obviously not handling whatever gas had been released very well. "C'mon!" He almost didn't catch it, in his rush to get the civilians out. One of the men, dressed just as well as those around him, had raised a weapon. A simple hand gun. They had known he would come, he always would, and they were waiting for him. But he was obviously not their target.

Michael ducked and leapt forward, shoulder thrown into the assailant's guts. The man was down, and a punch knocked him dizzy. Nimble fingers disassembled the gun into a handful of parts, which were quickly scattered by the feet of the fleeing victims. Hopefully no one tripped, but Michael didn't have time to wait and find out. The goon wasn't worth it, either-- he would be replaced in a day or two. Still masked, Michael wove in and out of the panicked individuals, doing his best to disarm the rest of Istov's employees. They were nothing special. Someone else had to be here. Some kind of lieutenant. Michael had heard more than rumors of a woman, Viper, who was employed by the under boss, but he hadn't run into her yet. Maybe this would be the night.

He found his way to the balcony in time to see the business man stagger away from a woman in red. He dropped, likely dead. He wasn't bleeding, there weren't any wounds, and she didn't look strong enough to have strangled him that quickly. Viper suggested poison, but he had no idea if that was her limit. She looked familiar. Her body shape, her stance. It caused his skin to bristle, but he wasn't sure why. He pulled the gas mask back over his head as he moved towards the balcony. He wasn't immune to the gas, but the opening of the balcony had helped clear a small area. "So you're Viper." It was a statement, not a question. She wasn't in a uniform, and she was standing next to a singled-out target. He had no plan of attack, no idea if he was going to be able to apprehend her, she was a new mystery he did not appreciate.

[stormi_weathers]

Scarlett heard the tell-tale footsteps as they walked onto the balcony. Michael had come, like she assumed he would. She had been pleasantly surprised for her previous escapades, when he had never shown up. But this was a new game to play, directly with him instead of the more disconnected game of cat and mouse that had been going on. And he looked uncomfortable. The gas wasn't pooling on the balcony like it had been inside, so he was able to take off the gas mask. It was a smart move to grab it in the first place. Scarlett could imagine herself grabbing two for them; Michael just as well would've forgotten it without her to have his back. Apparently he was getting along fine without her. That thought drove her to anger.

So you're Viper. Michael's words didn't pose a question. "Yesss, I am." She replied simply, smiling coyly. Scarlett curtsied as if introducing herself to an audience. But she straightened quickly, and started to move, hips wagging like they never had before the accident.

"And here'sssss Wonderboy, coming to save the day from the big bad ssssnake." Scarlett's words were silky smooth and meant to be insulting. Just like a snake, she dragged out the "s" sounds like a hiss. "Wonderboy" was the pet name that she had given to Michael back when she was his sidekick. She usually went by Scar around friends, which was just the first syllable of her name instead of any independent nickname. But Wonderboy was common enough that Scarlett could probably use it without him realizing her identity. Her hair was darker and she dressed completely differently than she used to, masked, and her voice was confident and sultry now, instead of playful. Scarlett was officially a villain, and that changed her facade.

A smirk appeared on her face as she looked at the slowly deescalating panic below them. "But you're a little too late onccccce again, aren't you?" That time, it was personal. He had been too late so save her, and now Michael was going to pay for that. This wasn't his city any longer. Istov was getting stronger, and now he had a powerful ally.

Scarlett walked the few steps it took to close the distance between her and Michael. "Come, come." She said lazily, reaching around his shoulders to encourage them to go to the edge of the balcony. "Look at all of them. Small and terrified. But you're here... shouldn't they be bassssking in your glory?" Scarlett exuded confidence. She knew that Michael was uncomfortable, and capitalized on that. Her hand lingered over Michael's shoulders as she draped her arms over him from behind. It was a flirtatious position, but Viper was a femme fatale who didn't care to be tough and stoic.

Besides, who could pass up playing with her... what was Michael? Was he her nemesis? It seemed that way, at the moment. Scarlett knew he was strong, stronger than the average human, but she was slinky and could easily evade most people's capture. She had assured herself that he wasn't going to get his hands on her too tightly. Besides, Scarlett still carried a whip attached to her side, just as she always had. It was her favorite weapon, and she was skilled at using it. This one was a little meaner than her old one, with a metal point at the end of it. She figured that a snake had to have some way to strike, and the whip was what she used. It was easy backup for when she got into a tough position. Not that she ever had, since she switched sides. The fact that she was interacting with Michael wouldn't change that, if Scarlett had any choice in the matter.

[The Iron Youth]

""

Her smile was beautiful, enrapturing-- everything that a villainess' smile should be. It wouldn't draw him in. Michael was stronger than that, and the words that followed shortly after the shift in her expression were enough to still any desire for her. She spoke like the snake that she was, and her body swayed back and forth much like a serpent. In those few moments, every resemblance to someone he knew but couldn't place was gone-- no one he knew walked with that kind of confidence, spoke in those tones. He resisted the urge to shake his head to clear the half-summoned memories. She called him Wonderboy. Scarlett had called him Wonderboy. He had always hated it, and now every time someone uttered the name, it reminded him of her, and ultimately of his failure.

Viper was touching him now, close. He wondered if she had fangs. Her words already had Michael bristling and this contact was far from setting his mind at ease. She could have psychedelic powers, force him to hallucinate. Her abilities could be touch-based, though she was wearing gloves. Viper's arms were draped over his shoulders, and they were on the edge of the balcony. She could push him, but she wouldn't move him much and the drop would not kill him. He couldn't get a read on her end-game. She'd been waiting for him, he assumed, and now they were just going to converse?

The woman carried a whip, he'd noticed. Maybe that was what had set his memories off. But this creature was not Scarlett. "I think you've got me pegged wrong," Michael shoved himself away from the woman. She looked small, fragile, as most things did to him. He wasn't sure if it was true or not. "Are you Istov's new sidekick? Some new pet he created in some disgusting lab? Or did you just crawl out of some swamp somewhere and decide you wanted a piece of the big city for yourself?" If she'd joined Istov willingly, she hadn't done her research. He used people, kept them around for their usefulness and dumped them in the canal when he was bored of them or no longer in need of their assistance. The same would happen to her, even if she was a lab-bred pet.

"Lady, I don't think you know who you're messing with. Istov's going to use you to get rid of me, and then he'll get rid of you so he doesn't have to share anything." He was certain she wouldn't listen. No one ever believed that they would be treated the same as everyone else. "I don't know what he's got on you, but I can help." Maybe it was some bid to fix what had happened with Scarlett. He was too late for her, too late for the business man laying prone just a few feet away, but maybe he didn't have to be too late for Viper. Or maybe that was just some internalized savoir-complex at work.

[stormi_weathers]

Michael's repulsion was almost tangible. Scarlett could feel his stiff muscles, and it made her laugh lightly. His body heat was comforting to her. But, then again, anybody's would be, considering she needed heat from the environment. But he was making her angry. Did Michael really think that she didn't know him? Scarlett knew him better than anyone else. Her words had never actually been trying to define him, but rather highlighting the fact that he was failing at his superhero duties. Now that she was antagonizing him instead of fighting crime by his side, Michael was too late to save the day. Ultimately, she wanted him to know that. Newly reborn as a villain, and one brainwashed by a boss, Scarlett didn't really have too much ambition for... well, anything. Getting back at Michael and doing Istov's bidding were really the only two things on her to-do list.

The superhero's next words impacted her goals, though. Michael was calling her exactly what she didn't want to be. A switch went off in her mind, and her attitude changed. In moments, she had pushed herself away from him, stepping back like he was red hot. "I'm not his sidekick! I'm not going to be anyone's sidekick! Never. Again." Scarlett had to keep her composure to avoid betraying too many details. Her words weren't sultry but they were venomous. Anger was present in her voice, but it was expressed with an icy, dangerous tone. But with Michael so near, all of her emotions were manifesting and she was struggling to stay cool. Her snakelike accent dropped, mostly because she wasn't trying to be Viper, but rather having a somewhat honest conversation. As normal as an ex-sidekick turned villain could possibly get. She was defensive; the words had quite obviously gotten to her.

"And for your information, I was enhancccced in a lab." Istov's scientists were responsible for her improvements, but ultimately Michael's "betrayal" had created the villain that he was facing. Scarlett had meandered close to the corner of the balcony by now, and climbed over the railing. She balanced there, leaning into the cool air while holding on with one arm, outstretched so that she was swaying just a bit in the wind. "I'm used to betrayal. And this time, I'm ready for it." The words were poisonous as Scarlett shot them towards Michael.

"I don't need anyone's help. Especially not yours. But I'll see you around, Wonderboy. You're too... delicioussss to leave alone. If you're ever bored... I'll be around to play." Her confidence was back, and her cool diction returned with it. Scarlett had said her farewell, and concluded the meeting. Just like that, she let go of the rail and fell backwards, flipping through the air and landing one balcony below them. Scarlett still had her acrobatic talent. In an instant, she had broken through a window and slid into the building, slinking along walls and evading security. It was pretty easy to get through the gala's remnants, considering people were still walking around, confused as the effects of the gas set in.

Scarlett left the building and headed back to her "lair." It was really just a flat, in one of the many apartment complexes that Istov, or one of his cronies, owned. He had set her up with it, and that meant that he had a key to get in whenever he wanted. But tonight, she was greeted by a pillow of hot air- she kept the thermostat on high- and one of his lieutenants. "It'ssss done." The facade was up, and she still had on her mask, just as she would until the man left. But he wasn't there for a status report. "Haven't you learned?" She cocked her head in warning, responding to the man's hungry glances. Sure enough, he moved towards her, and her heart began to pound. She was angry at Michael, and now angry that she couldn't have some peace. Her salivary glands reacted to the stimulus and released venom into her mouth. The poison was exchanged quickly to the man's bloodstream, and soon enough Scarlett had her solitude. Sure, there was a body on the floor, but someone could take care of that later.

((Set-up for a timeskip. If you'd like to pick the next meeting place?))

[The Iron Youth]

""

Michael had no interest in playing with Viper. He would not be around to play the rodent to her serpent. He frowned, watching as she back-flipped off the balcony. Something he had said had unsettled her-- his sidekick comment. She was obviously a proud individual; she said she was used to betrayal, and was ready for Istov's. That hadn't worked for anyone in the past. But there was nothing Michael could do about it. He had citizens to help and police to evade.

They met again over the next few nights, Michael attempting every time to gain more information, more insight into his new enemy. He didn't enjoy Istov having such a powerful ally who could kill men in a manner he hadn't quite figured out. It was poison, he knew that. But that only showed up in their blood, not in the stomach, their lungs were unmarred, and there weren't any injection sites. He couldn't even figure out how the men were connected. They were all business men, but none of them were as high-profile as the man murdered in his first encounter with the woman. They weren't rich, and as far as he could tell, they had little in common, socially or otherwise. Istov was after power, after the mob bosses and the big dollars to be had in the city's industries. But these men... They made no sense to Michael. To further his displeasure, Michael was making no progress with Viper. Something about her was familiar, but everything else was alien, and very, very threatening. She had no power over him other than the lives that she took, but she set his teeth on edge and every instinct in his primordial brain told him to flee.

And for the millionth time since the accident, he woke up to ethereal screams still ringing in his ears. His apartment was barely climate-controlled to keep his bills as low as possible, and he didn't remain there for long. There weren't any lingering memories, but he needed to be out, looking for something, anything, that would tell him who Viper was and where she came from. Something to get his mind away from Scarlett and his nightmares. A bench on the mall of the city's university was one of his favorite spots. It allowed for people watching and noisy solitude. He hadn't come in a while. He hadn't done a lot of things in a while, since the accident.

He had to get back into his normal cycle. He hadn't taken any commissions lately and his tiny pool of money was quickly drying up. A tablet was pulled from his backpack, its case quickly unfolded. But for a long moment, his canvas remained blank. He had to do something, anything to force himself back into the groove of making art. His stylus tapped mindlessly a few times before a sketch started to form beneath his fingers. It was Scarlett, but not the woman he had seen last. This was the Scarlett from his nightmares, screaming in pain, screaming for help, screaming for him. They had been friends, partners, and he'd failed her in the worst possible way. She had paid her price, and now he was paying his.

[stormi_weathers]

Scarlett continued to do as Istov requested for the next few nights. She was becoming aware that she really was turning into one of his henchmen, and really was irritated with that. Viper was killing businessmen of all sorts. It was seemingly random, the men she was told to hit. It wasn't like Scarlett wasn't trying to figure out the pattern, but Istov really was a mastermind. Apparently he took great care keeping everyone in the dark. One recurring mission, though, was to interact with Michael. Istov requested that she do exactly that, but Scarlett liked to think that she was doing it out of her own accords.

Even so, Scarlett could tell that she was really having an effect on Michael. She was getting under his skin more than it seemed like a villain usually would. The fact that she still had similarities to who she had been before the accident never occurred to her as the reason for his dismay. Nonetheless she capitalized on it. She dropped the occasional hint of what her identity was, but Michael was continuously in the dark. It was like he wanted to believe that Scarlett was dead, as if that was a better alternative to the villain that she had become. But she was better than ever, and ultimately it was his fault anyways.

So they played cat and mouse. Sometimes, he chased her through the wreck that she left behind. Other times, she sought him out to go through the nightly torment. But soon, Istov changed things up. He wanted Scarlett to start going out in the daytime, too. The college lab had managed to get a sample of his latest... something. Honestly, Scarlett didn't know what was in the vials she was told to grab, only their location and general appearance.

So she posed as a college student, without her mask and with her black ensemble hidden underneath a lab coat. It was too easy to walk into a chemistry lab class, and fumble a few chemicals into a student's beaker. Boom. It instantly exploded and sprinklers went off. But water doesn't always put out chemical fires. This one just kept growing, and between the mayhem of the accident, and the freaking out students, Scarlett could slip off the coat and find the vials. She had her mask on, now, and was searching the room. There wasn't much time, before the police or at least campus security showed up. She had to be quick.

((Meh. Short post is short.))

[The Iron Youth]

""

His process was slow, agonizing, this wasn't right or that color was wrong, the shadows weren't formed right, and the red he had chosen for the background had him uneasy. Michael sighed in frustration and slumped back against his bench. He looked up from his tablet to see other students pointing and gaping. For a moment, he contemplated just going home. But the sudden sound of a fire alarm couldn't be ignored. "s**t," he cursed and folded the cover back onto his device, which was unceremoniously shoved into his pack. With the bag thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, Michael was up and moving, rushing towards the wailing building. The chemistry building. Not more chemicals. Students, professors and aides were rushing out. A few more expletives slipped out of the young man's lips as he searched his bag-- he hadn't brought his suit. He couldn't just barge into a fire. He was hard to hurt, sure, but he'd never tested it with fire.

People were still rushing out, students and professors alike carrying their valuables against all safety precautions as Michael continued to weigh his odds. But the campus police department was on the scene and pushing the crowding people back. No-- Michael couldn't just stand around and watch when someone might be dying. He glanced to the side and caught sight of a student he knew from a basic chemistry class was standing next to him, gawking. "Here, hold this," he said, shoving his backpack into the other man's hand.

With the handful of officers distracted for a moment by the fleeing students, Michael took his chances and darted inside. The fire hadn't spread too far yet, and to be honest, he wasn't sure where it had originated, where he was supposed to be going. He just ran through the building, a bit like a moron, he admitted to himself, up the stairs to the labs. There smoke seeping out from under the door of one of the labs. If anyone was stuck and in trouble, they were going to be in there.

He pushed the door open, covering his mouth with his arm as he pushed through the smoke. He knew it wouldn't help much, but his reactions weren't always the ones that made the most sense. He made his way through the smoke, which caused him to cough and his eyes to water, to find a woman searching for something. "Hey, whatever it is you don't--" it wasn't just any woman. It was Viper. She was at the university, setting fire to the labs and apparently stealing something. This was too much. What on Earth could Istov want from a college lab that his own scientists, which he certainly had, couldn't synthesize or acquire on their own? "Wha-- who are you?" Right, he wasn't wearing his suit. He wasn't Savior, just Michael Young. Staring down Viper in a slowly burning building.

//ooc; wasn't sure if this was what you wanted to have happen, but <<;

[stormi_weathers]

Scarlett spun around when he heard someone's voice. She was in a burning building, and didn't really expect anyone to show up once the class all ran out. But when she realized who it was, the reasoning was pretty clear. Michael had come to save the day, of course. She couldn't have just gotten Istov's chemicals in peace, no, Michael had to show up.

"Oh, hello, Wonderboy. I'd love to ssstay and chat, but you look like you should get out of this fire." Apparently, smoke didn't affect Viper's lungs, either. Fire would definitely burn her skin, but any ingested toxins didn't really harm her. The side effects of being dosed with poisons and creating poison herself were becoming increasingly useful. It was a fair tradeoff, too. She had poisons and tolerance to them, but was physically as weak as a normal human. Which meant that Michael would be able to overpower her if he actually tried. Luckily, he hadn't gotten his hands on the villain. She was always quick to slip away.

Scarlett realized too late that she had messed up. She shouldn't have known who the normally clothed male was, if she was just a run-of-the-mill villain who tormented a superhero. Obviously Scarlett had been more than that to Michael, but Savior only knew Viper, and not the girl behind the mask.

Soon enough, Scarlett found the vials Istov's cronies had mapped out for her. They weren't tiny, not the normal test tube size. She couldn't help but be curious of their contents, but there really was no way to find out what was inside. The building was catching on fire more and more, too; she didn't have much time. While Michael was coughing, Scarlett quickly balanced on one foot and lifted up the other leg, turning the heel of her boot so that she could slip off the outside panel. The vials fit inside, luckily, and she replaced the cover before returning both feet to the ground.

Those boots had been her own trusty sidekick for as long as she had been wearing a mask. Villain or hero, there was always a small item that needed to be stored. The compartment was cozy and padded, too, enough to keep its contents from breaking. Scarlett couldn't count the number of times that her shoes had come in handy.

Scarlett was ready to ditch the classroom, but Michael was blocking the door. She doubted that he would move, and didn't really want to climb out the window. The university had built the building when modern architecture was a crazy, so the exterior was too smooth for her to climb down easily. Ultimately, she could probably do it, but Scarlett was not in the mood to scale a burning building. "You're in my way." She said simply, knowing that trying to push past Michael would be unsuccessful.

((No biggy! It's totally fine! Poor Michael.))

[The Iron Youth]

""

Michael's heart stopped in the same way that it did at the top of the Tower of Terror, when he knew it was going to drop. Viper knew who he was-- she knew his face, she knew him, outside of his alternate identity. She hadn't said his name, but she'd recognized his face. Or maybe she called every guy that went rushing into deadly situations "wonderboy". But no, that was too specific to be something like that. This meant that Istov could well know his identity. The crazed underboss could find his family, his friends, everyone that he knew, and have them killed. Or worse. Enhance them like he had Viper. Turn them against him. Hell, even Michael's own home wasn't safe anymore. If Istov knew who he was, if Istov wanted him dead, no where was safe. "How do you know who I am?" Maybe she hadn't told him yet, and that was why he was alive. Maybe that was her final bargaining chip to keep herself alive, keep herself safe.

That wasn't important. She had something, and at the same time, the building was going to burn down with both of them in it. She had stolen something, and placed the vials within the sole of her boot. A technique that was familiar to the man, but hey-- if a woman had to wear heels while running around, why not use them for storage. "Yeah, I know. Give me the vials, Viper." He wouldn't last much longer, he was sure, but the smoke didn't seem to be affecting her all that much. It might be related to her own toxins. "He's using you Viper, that's all you are to him-- a meaningless tool. Don't do it. You're stronger than he is."

He wasn't sure he should have said that. Viper seemed pretty intelligent, though perhaps not a criminal mastermind. Still, if she got the taste of power and went after Istov, Michael would be faced with a whole new set of problems. Though perhaps she'd be a bit less barbaric. Certainly more fun to-- no, he had to focus. But his eyes continued to water and his throat was getting scratchier and scratchier with every breath. "Just give me the vials." He meant to extend a hand, but had to steady himself instead. His head was getting light. He glanced back to Viper after a fit of coughs.

He had a choice. Stay and die trying to convince the villainess to change her stripes or escape the building and live. "Fine, keep them-- but remember what I said: he's just using you for his own means." With her obvious advantage over him in the situation, he moved aside so she could escape before fumbling to find his own way out of the lab.

[stormi_weathers]

Scarlett raised her eyebrows at Michael's distress. She could almost see the gears moving in his head. If she knew, Istov knew, which meant the superhero would be dead before the night ended. Except, he was making two mistakes. First, she only knew because she was his old sidekick, obviously. Second, is Istov wanted him dead, the boss could have taken him out in the night. That's what he did with Scarlett, pretty easily too. She didn't see why Michael thought a secret identity would protect him from harm. In a rash moment, the villain decided to bring those thoughts up.

"Istov doesn't know who you are, but that wouldn't stop him from getting to you. Didn't he kill that slutty sidekick chick of yours?" Viper tilted her head to the side, cutting deep. She knew that as a sidekick, she hadn't really been all that slutty, but she was trying to get to Michael. Provoking him couldn't be easier, since she had the upper hand in the smokey room. Still, gallantly as ever, he told her to give up the vials.

"Why don't you take them? Too weak?" Scarlett taunted the superhero in his weakened state, cocky enough to try and provoke him. "But you're going to have to buy me dinner before you feel me up too much." She was just having fun now, but Michael wasn't being responsive enough for her to continue toying with him. And, after another futile request from him, he caved. She grabbed the lab coat that she had been wearing and slipped it over her shoulder. Once Michael stepped aside, Scarlett moved passed him, blowing a kiss and winking before she headed down the stairs.

What a successful mission this had been! Michael was stressed out even more, and she got the vials. Now, she just needed to find an exit. Once she thought herself far enough ahead of the hero, Scarlett pulled off her mask and buttoned up the white jacket. In a moment, she was outside and summoning fake tears. "I got trapped! There's a guy still in there!" She blubbered to the fireman who rushed to help her. "I'm glad you're okay, miss. Next time, get out as soon as possible." That was all she got as a response, and walked away scot-free. Viper had won again, like usual.

[The Iron Youth]

""

After the fiasco at the university, Michael's confidence was weakened. Now that Istov had someone on his side, someone who was strongest while Michael was at his weakest, had the man concerned. There was no way he could win without someone on his side, too. Some one to even the odds. He wished Scarlett was still around. She would have figured something out, seen something that he missed. As it was, he did his best to go back to his previous routine. Dealing with smaller criminals, taking out anyone too dangerous for the standard police force, but low enough not to warrant Viper's attention. It wasn't work that couldn't be undone within a few short days. But Michael had to do something-- he couldn't just sit around.

The man's bag dropped onto the floor as he stepped into his apartment. It was cool-- he didn't bother keeping it warm at night anymore. Any money he could save was desperately needed. Michael's shoes were kicked off as he locked the door. It was more for psychological reassurance than for fear of any physical danger. He was trying to figure out what to do about Viper. He thought of her every time something moved in the corner of his vision. He was used to brute force, not... Not what Viper threatened him with.

The man wandered out to his balcony. He lived a few floors up. Far enough that the drop might kill the average person, but Michael had no fear as he leaned against the railing. Thinking about it, he probably should have been more worried. Viper knew where he was. Istov likely knew where he lived. And yet, he hadn't given up his home. Michael's hands came up to rub at his face, the fingertips of one hand working their way up to his scalp. It was a motion indicative of stress and unease for the man. Face and vision obscured, the man let out a low groan before freezing and jerking his head up. He could have sworn he heard something.

[stormi_weathers]

Scarlett's nights ran pretty consistently after facing Michael during the day. He had attempted to fall off of her radar for a bit. She assumed that it was because he worried that she would tell Istov about who the superhero actually was, but never felt sure about that. In the end, she decided to leave him be. Viper had work to do, and having a superhero stay out of her hair wasn't something to complain about. Although, things were mighty boring without taunting the poor guy. The random men Itsov would assign for her to kill never really fought back. They'd fall into her seductive clutches, and killing them was quick and clean after that. She never pulled out a knife or a gun, so they didn't have an opportunity to bellyache. The poison was administered in a kiss; death blindsided her victims. Such was fine. The only problem was that the authorities would be able to see a pattern. Istov had henchmen to clean up after his pet, but if they got to a body too late, tracing down Scarlett wouldn't be difficult. Still, that had not happened yet. And it wasn't like she was in the DNA database or anything worrisome. Istov was careful not to risk Viper too much on her assigned missions.

Then, in an unconventional moment of charity, Istov gave the villain a "night off." She almost wanted to recoil for this, because Scarlett was still convinced that she was the boss's partner and not his underling. Being granted a break seemed like what a superior would say to a sidekick, and that just sent Scarlett into steamy anger. Of course, that meant that she would take it out on Michael. It wasn't like she could taunt Istov, who was immediately causing her grief. But the one responsible for her change was positively fair game. The guy never used physical force against her, and it was making Scarlett cocky. She thought that her psychological games scared Michael too much, and, though he was stronger, she would remain unscathed. Maybe she just hadn't pushed him far enough to find out what would happen at the breaking point.

Scarlett took their hateful relationship a step farther tonight, and went to his home. The particular apartment was a few floors up, but she had no problem scaling the wall. Who would notice a figure climbing a building when it was night and she was in black? No one. So once she reached the balcony, Scarlett easily made it inside. Luckily, Michael wasn't there to see her entrance, though she positioned herself on his bed to make a spectacle for when he did discover her presence.

It didn't take long for Michael to come through the front door. She heard the click of the lock and the rustle of movement, anticipating him to come into the room. Unfortunately, he didn't. Scarlett waited, just a few moments, before growing impatient. Pushing herself off the bed, which she noticed was rather comfortable, still, she strode sneakily through the familiar apartment. Michael was on the balcony. Scarlett paused when he stopped moving, assuming that the hero had picked up on his visitor. That meant it was time to make an entrance. "Wonderboy." Get his attention, and establish that it was Viper speaking? Check. "Come to bed. I've been waiting for you, but you always get home so terribly late!" Scarlett pouted facetiously as she stepped into full view of Michael. She stayed inside, although to her dismay it wasn't actually much warmer than the air on the balcony. However, it would be a bit more difficult for Michael to throw her to the street below if she wasn't outside already. They had talked on balconies enough, anyways. Scarlett wanted him to be upset that she was in his home, and she needed to be in it for the full effect.