Dont Be A Hero


elvis_icon.gif magnes_icon.gif

Scene Title Dont Be A Hero
Synopsis Elvis kills a dude, then justifies her actions to Magnes through a crashcourse in outlaw rules of conduct
Date March 25 2009


It's late in the evening, Staten Island is Magnes' new home, and he's still getting associated with the neighborhood. But tonight he hasn't been on the rooftops, for once he's just skating around a quiet street, mostly full of abandoned row houses. Many things are on his mind; the cages, upsetting Abby, Minea shocking the living hell out of him, and Hiro Nakamura being a real person. He's just lost in his own head right now.
So lost in his head that there's a sound behind him, movement before a baseball bat comes out of the shadows, hard enough to knock the gravokinetic off his feet, followed quickly by the cold metal of a gun is suddenly VERY present against the back of Magnes's head. Two men come shuffling from out of the shadow, one stays back a bit, while the otehr is close. "Lookie what we got here Stanley" "What's that jimmy" "We got ourself a little kid." "I think so too Jimmy" The guy with the gun sneers down at magnes. "Whadda we do with kids on the island Stanley" Stanley smiled behind his cohort. "Oh jimmy, we beat them up and take what they have. Those skates" there's a gesture to the skates on his feet. "They look like tuck would pay a pretty penny for them"

There are multible reasons Elvis is out on the town instead of her usual sleeping, smoking, wrenching, eating and cursing. None of these reasons are good of course, all certainly entail a particularly incredible amount of violence. So when she rounds the corner, to find her room-mate getting shook down its not much of a jump. Quietly, she stuffs her gloved hands into her jacket pockets. Loud deliberate bootsteps bring her towards the two hoods, though the fact she's smiling probably sends the wrong message.

Magnes falls forward with a loud yelp when the bat hits him, using his arms to break his fall, then reaches behind to rub his back, before going completely stiff at the feel of the gun. "I don't have anything!" he pleads, though he does have a few things, maybe they'll believe him and leave nicely? If only they /did/ take his skates, at least he could do more than lay here and get shot… and what are those bootsteps?

"You might think you have nothing, but you have something" Cue Elvis and Jimmy smiles. "Stan, my man! We got someone new!" "How right you are Jimmy! Sweetheart, come to play?" A second gun is produced, leveled towards Elvis. "Maybe you can strip off that jacket there adn your shirt, heck, lets go for your pants and give the poor boy here some entertainment hmmm?"
ORDER: It is now your pose.

Elvis seems all smiles as she walks closer. "Fucking cunt nugget sons'a bitches, you aint got no fucking clue."The distance between Elvis and Stan, is closed in oh but a blink really. She sweeps out to Stan's side, putting him between Her and Jimmy. Its just a flash of polished metal in the night, three pounds of nickle plated happiness that had at one time been part of an armored panel. Now, these beautifully polished knuckles were held tight in Elvis's fist as it hurtled with entirely unnatural speed (and power) towards Stan's ear.

"Elvis?" Magnes asks in surprise, waiting for the gun to leave his head. Gravity is lower, and the gun probably unintentionally feels far lighter. He's getting ready to pounce, the first chance he gets. "Be careful!"

Stanley SEE'S it coming, but he can't really prevent it, other than try and swing his weapon up towards the adrenaline fueled woman with a "fucking bitch" before suddenly, there' only the sickening crunch of bone breaking and his skull caving in. He's dead, about three seconds after impact, bone driven into brain, impaling necessary neurons needed to keep a person living. Jimmy, is suddenly rethinking what he's doing and turns to try and get away from the pair, dropping the gun in his hand onto Magnes.

Just grunts as the other hood starts to run, but Elvis doesnt exactly give chase. Deftly, with a flip of her boot she kicks the very same bat that had once been used on Magnes into her hand. A single roll of her wrist, before she gives it not just a pitch but something far more impressive. Letting it hurtle sidelong at Jimmy's legs from behind. She isnt ignoring Magnes, but she hardly feels the need to speak.

Magnes stands up after the bat flies over him, then looks down at the dead guy, eyes wide, right before he grabs his stomach and throws up all over the ground. He wipes his face on a napkin from his pocket, not looking down at the body again. "You killed him!" Then, looking back at the other man, he's suddenly worried, doing the only thing he can think of; skate over to Elvis, then try to wrap his arms around her and turn gravity upside down so they start falling /up/. And the upside down is quite literal, the ground seems like the ceiling now.


Jimmy's leg meets baseball bat and the snap is audible. He stumbles, taking weight off that leg and screaming, but it doens't stop him from trying to hop/run away from Elvis who in one punch totally killed his partner in crime.

It takes a moment, before even Elvis without all that adrenaline can figure out what the hell is going on here. Just as she starts to tighten, as fingers begin their quest for a knife they halt. "Mag-"before everything gets kind of swirly and mixed up and all the sudden she's falling, in the wrong direction. "Fuck!" is all she can think to say, which is a lie because she didnt even think about saying -that- much.

They fall up, fast. Magnes has been doing this so much lately, he's just stopped yelling altogether… but he'll never get used to hearing other people yell in his ear. Once they've gotten to at least a hundred feet, he starts to slow the fall to a more reasonable pace, cruise. "I'm sorry I had to do this, but you killed that guy, I couldn't let you kill the other. Don't worry, I won't drop you or anything, I've done this before…" Then, arms around her waist, he suddenly looks her in the face, cheeks flushing. Oh god, it's a girl, he just remembered Elvis is a girl… "Oh god…"

"I'd kick your fucking ass, if it didnt fucking kill me you fucking fuck."Pouting, frusterated? Yes definitely. "I had that other punk dead to rights you jackass, I save your life and you get in the middle of a fight? It aint like he innocent, criminal on criminal is a fair fucking fight. Now get me back down there, so I can finish what I started."Is she a girl, no right now she's more biker to be frank. Of course, theres a cigarette involved soon after to ease the tremors in her fingertips. "And if your hands go anywhere, and I do mean anywhere. I will feed you, hands first into the garbage disposal at home."

"P-please don't make this harder than it already is…" Magnes pleads, hands loosening, then tightening, then loosening again. He has no idea what to do. "I don't exactly touch girls every day, alright? But I can't put you down with that guy, you can't just kill people, Elvis, you just can't…"

"Says you? Please, this isnt a fucking comic book and I'm a mother fucking outlaw. Now put me down, before I start breakin your little bones and work my way up."Theres a scowl there, but certainly no remorse. Granted by now you could hardly accuse Elvis of being emotionally involved in anything but motorcycles. She may have man problems, and law problems but she aint never had no killin problems thats for sure.

"But Elvis!" Magnes exclaims, having no idea how to follow that up, he looks around for a roof without an actual way down, then gravity shifts forward, to the left, and finally down again, gently lowering her on to the roof before jumping back a good ten feet away from her, looking down at his hands. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to touch you, I forgot you were a girl…"
ORDER: It is now your pose.

"Oh fuck me, I'm not a fucking girl. I'm a fucking biker, and you need to fucking man up."And there comes the finger pointing, thanks to Elvis. "Now go get that fucking gun, before some kid blows his fucking face off and stay the fuck right the fuck down there. I swear to god Magnes, you and I are having words and I have to come find you."

Magnes doesn't take Elvis down with him, he simply pulls out a napkin, makes a large leap down to the ground to grab the gun, throws up again when he sees the body, then jumps back up to the building with the gun again, sitting it on the ground. "There, the gun. And I still can't just let you kill someone, I know I can't stop you every time, but if I didn't stop you this time, I would have been guilty. And you are a girl, I mean, under all the tough stuff, you're kind of, well, you know…" He can't say it, cute.

Elvis accepts the gun before fwumping down on the edge of the roof she's freshly perched upon, dumping the magazine before hurling the frame one way and the slide another. "He wasnt a somone, he was a punk. Punks get killed, he knew that before he became a punk but did it anyway. He made his choice like a man, and I made mine. So you need to stop being such a mother fucking pussy, lest I let the next pigbitch motherfucker I see cap you and then your gonna be shittin in a little bag you gotta carry everywhere with you. How well you gonna save the world, and find your soul mate when your shittin in a fucking ziplock bag tied round your neck?"

Magnes slowly skates over to her, sitting next to her… with a good foot inbetween them. "You don't have to kill to save me, do you really think I want that? I don't… wanna see people getting seriously hurt, let alone killed, especially not after the way I had to see Abby…"
ORDER: It is now your pose.

"pbbbht, I've killed men for the way they look at Roger Magnes. Dont flatter yourself. I mean, fuck I'll kill cops on princepal alone."Elvis grunts, trading one cigarette for another before she finally busies herself with her knuckles. Rubbing them clean on a pant leg before shoving them back in her pocket. "I'm a mother fucking outlaw Magnes, you got to kill a cop just to wear the ink. Who the fuck did you think I was?"

"I just…" Magnes looks almost literally sick, the information more than a bit overwhelming. "I thought that maybe you were just a cute tom girl… I mean, Flint Deckard said you're not in a gang…"
ORDER: It is now your pose.

Elvis takes abit to work at her cigarette, before flicking it away. "I'm not active, I cant be. Pops said I was out when he got picked up and put away, so I'm in some shitty fucking limbo. I aint no fucking civilian, so every punk and angel and warlock out there takes a shot at me every chance they get. I just aint a proper gang member neither, so I'm all on my own. I'm also, not a fucking girl and I'm certainly not cute. "

"So you really are serious…" Magnes sighs, suddenly sliding down a bit, then standing up on the side of the building as if it were perfectly normal, turning around to stare up at her. "Well, you're still a person to me, I won't treat you any differently just because you're 'not a civilian'. And if you weren't a girl, I wouldn't feel like I'm gonna die whenever we're within ten feet of eachother. Abby's the only girl who doesn't make me feel that way."
ORDER: It is now your pose.

Elvis groans"oh my god, we'll talk about this and I'll tell you how my little world works. Not here though, we'll discuss this home and away from the dead fucking punks alright?"She flicks her cigarette aside, snorting and spitting before just sauntering off towards the fire escape

scene break

restart at the house of Elvis and magnes

"So anyway, heres the deal."Elvis shrugs off her jacket, before hanging it on a hook just below her helmet. "There are only four kinds of people in the world. Bikers, Punks, Pigs and Civilians. Everyone in the whole wide world, gets put into one of those catagories and then there are rules on what you can and cant to do them based on their social placement in the world."

Magnes unstraps his skates, just laying them off to the side before standing up straight and stretching his arms out, making the small tattoo under his right wrist very apparent before his arms drop. "Well, I think I can understand that, but what about terrorists and stuff? And what are the rules, anyway?" he asks as he goes looking for a place for them to sit.

"If your a criminal, like you steal from people who cant afford to lose it or wave guns around your a punk. Your life is forfeit, you dont accidentally rob some poor old man of his food stamps or try to mug some kid with stamps like accidentally right?"She kicks off her boots, hangs her shoulder holster up and slowly meanders into the kitchen."Terrorists can be either punks or civilians depending upon their motivation."

"Oh." is Magnes' first response, opting to follow her into the kitchen. "I guess that makes sense too. But um, what makes someone a biker, other than having a motorcycle?"

"You wear the colors of a motorcycle club or gang. You were a pledge, you were told the risks and responsibilities and you joined anyway. Its voluntary, and engineered so it isnt accidental. My patches, my tattoos are like a uniform. Lets people know who I am, what club I run with."Elvis pauses as she boots the door open. "You want a soda Magnes?"

"Sure." Magnes accepts, leaning against the counter as he continues to listen, idly scratching his head occasionally. "But, I mean, you're nice, I don't understand how you can kill people. But, I guess Sylar's nice too, and he kills people…"

Elvis slides a coke across the table. "What makes you think I'm nice, other than that I'm nice to you? Dont assume your rules apply to me, I live by the ones I chose not some bullshit that was assigned to me. I chose to be a biker, I chose to live by a wholly independent set of rules and If I die by them then so be it. I made my choice."

"Well…" Magnes pops the top of his soda, taking a small sip. "Why are you nice to me? I mean, it's not like I'm poor, even though I don't have tons of money. I'm not a biker, and I'm not defenseless…" He gives her a curious look. "What makes me safe with you?"

Elvis just smiles "Your a civilian, your not a cop. Your not from a rival gang, your not robbing people so your ok. Your a civilian, so your safe period. A member of another gang hurts you, or lets you get fucked by the cops or a punk and they're liable for the damage. They can get their world rocked, or sent to the pen. Just because I'm an outlaw, doesnt mean I'm evil. Crime, is a relative word you know?"

"I never really thought about it like that…" Magnes says with a light sigh after another sip, staring at her for a long moment. "I still can't say I'm happy with you killing people, lives are lives, and there are only two people in the world I wouldn't feel bad about dying…"

Elvis perks her eyebrows"and do you think its the government's role to decide whats right and wrong, or do you believe issues of morality are to be decided by the individual? Would you agree, that through self determination we maintain our individuality?"

"I don't believe the government is doing much right at all these days. Nathan Petrelli is a selfish liar, and he's the leader of the country." Magnes points out before a long chug now. "Right now all we can do is whatever is in our power, but I still try to old on to my own morality. I could easily just go to the white house and throw the president into space, but that's not who I am."

Elvis nods softly "And I dont pass judgement on you, until you try to pass it on me. I wont say your right or wrong, because unless you invite me to that party its not my place. So dont you worry about what I'm doing, and dont get in my way again. Step between me and a punk, or another biker, or a cop and make no mistake Magnes. You lose your protected status, and if you really think you can lay a hand on me before I've cut out your liver then you really have absolutely no idea who I am."

"I don't think I'm invincible, I was in the cage fights, remember?" Magnes asks, tone quite dark as he looks himself over. "I think in my last fight, I had most of my skin shredded, and nearly all the bones in my body broken. So trust me, Elvis, I don't have delusions of invincibility…"

Elvis sips at her coke"Good, lot of folks figure just because they're evolved they're automatically some sort've badass. They think they bleed some different color, think they owe society some shit. They need to be reminded what society thinks of them, and where their place is."

"I'm still gonna make a difference, even if there's risk involved. But…" Magnes takes his can and starts walking out of the kitchen, looking back at her to follow. "I need to figure out how all the crime in the city works, I need to know how it's all connected, or I won't be able to do anything without getting killed."

"Its not your place, and it never will be. Dont entertain delusions of some higher purpose Magnes, your not a superhero. All the heroes died a long time ago, forget that and you wont die in some meaningful way. You'll bleed out in a dark alley, and they wont be able to identify your body. You'll sit around in the morgue for a month, before they give up and the state of new york dumps you and all the other john does in a big fat mass grave. You wont be remembered, you wont be thought of fondly. How many men do you think, die every day doing something beautiful and noble? How much good are they doing the world?"Bitter, well you could call her a bitch but she really wasnt that bitter. Elvis didnt have quite as much personal stock as most folks tended to expect, but thats another topic entirely.

"It's not about being remembered, it's about doing something, not wasting my power just sitting around. Trust me, I learned the other day when I got stuffed in a trunk that the direct approach doesn't work." Magnes walks into the living room, heading for the couch as he looks back to make sure she's following. "When I learn how the underworld works, I'll get organized, I'll have help, we'll clean up the city. You won't have to kill anyone when we're done."

"and what if I -want- to kill people, do you plan to take away my self determination? My free will? I could walk away, if I didnt want this life for myself."Elvis follows, albeit slowly. "I dont want a clean city, I like it exactly how it is right now. You think I chose to live out on Staten by accident? Dont assume, that safer is better."

Magnes plops down on the couch, listening with a look mixed with worry and confusion. "I just don't understand how you can enjoy it, it's… well… scary."

Elvis just smiles, how flattering geez. "If I wanted to be safe, would I carry knives and knuckles and guns and ride motorcycles fast in traffic? Why in the whole wide world, would I ever want to be safe? I want to be free, I dont care how dangerous it is."

Magnes frowns darkly into his can of soda, one eye looking back up at him in his reflection. Sadly any symbolism is completely misplaced, thus, meaningless. "I understand that you want to be free and have fun and stuff, but, do you want to die? Do you even entertain the thought of a peaceful life?"

Elvis shakes her head slowly, finishing off her soda in a bolt before tossing it back into the kitchen's trashbin."Do I want to die, no not really but I choose death over servitude. I dont intend on being a mother or anything, I dont want to settle down anywhere. I live on a bike, I live on the road. If I ever thought I couldnt just strap my backpack on and leave, I think realistically I'd just step outside and start shootin till somone put me out."

"Other than the murdering part, I can really admire you, even relate." Magnes thumbs toward the hallway, where his skates happen to be. "My skates aren't a motorcycle, but I can't see myself just sitting around, being unable to just go and leap across the city, grind across a plane, grind down a skyscraper's antenna. I just can't be caged in. I think I was going insane when we were captured…"

"Your not an outlaw, just remember though. Badguys arent bikers, they dont follow the outlaw code. They'll kill everyone you know, people you buy your food from. They'll kill everyone, just to get to you. Save one person, and they'll kill a hundred. Thats the price, for mixing your shit with those fuckers."Elvis pauses, flicking out her lighter to bring flame to a cigarette. "Fight fire with fire, and you aint fire Magnes. Be a good person, dont be a good hero. You understand?"

"I understand, but…" Magnes chugs the rest of his soda, then holds one hand over it and makes it suddenly crash down, completely flattening the can. "I can't just ignore that I have an ability, it's hard. That's all I'm saying, it's difficult."

Elvis shrugs "So save puppies, become a firefighter, help rescue climbers on a mountain. Save lives, dont just trade them around. You wanna use your shit, then use it. Dont waste it tryna be billy badass."

Magnes stares at his disk-can, then looks over at her again, patting the space next to him. "Why are you so worried about me? I mean, I appreciate it, you just don't seem like the type who would worry a lot…"

Elvis cant help but laugh "because your my room-mate, and your completely fucking clueless. You get mixed up with some gang, and your rooming with a biker. I'm not a civilian, if somone's pissed at you I'm an entirely legitimate target."

Magnes can't help but laugh when she calls him clueless, possibly because there might be some air of truth to it. He pulls a leg up on the couch, then starts feeling around for the remote. "I delivered a pizza to these people who turned out to be a bunch of criminals, and this girl I hang out with turned out to know the really fat Chinese guy. It was kind of strange, like being in a den of lions or something. I actually won a thousand something dollars on one hand, but I couldn't help but feel I was only safe because I know the girl." he explains, possibly having some concern he doesn't know how to address. He reaches into his pocket, having some rolled up bills, then tosses it to her. "That's all of it, that should cover rent and whatever else you want."

Elvis snags the wad with ease, giving it only a momentary peer before she tucks it away. "Dont hang with criminals, lest you be mistaken for one alright? Hanging around those sorts of folks is a good way at getting either of us killed, and I dont think you want to get between the Outlaws and whoever else is around when shit starts. Civilians in the line of fire, are barely civilians."

"I'll remember, I didn't do it on purpose, I didn't know they were criminals until the game started. The only person I knew was Flint Deckard, and he's afraid of me, but he's on his way to a clean life now." Magnes says with a soft smile, finding the remote, then turning the TV on. "It's so strange though, even after you explain all this stuff, it's just… so hard to believe that a pretty girl can be so violent."

Elvis ughs "Fuck he is, Flint Deckard could live clean if you gave him a bar of soap. The dudes a crook till he dies, even if he doesnt look like it he's always got some shit going on."She ponders Deckard a moment, before continuing"And he's also very unreliable. Anyway, I'm not pretty and you already saw me punch some fucker apart."

"I know I saw you, and why are you so down on your looks?" Magnes asks, since even though he's quite awkward, he won't let a girl go on living with a lack of confidence! "Or is it that you think being pretty is bad?"

"Being pretty, makes me vulnerable. I dont want to be pretty, and I especially dont want to be vulnerable."Elvis offers a wave of dismissal. "I'm gonna go powdercoat some shit, have a nice night if your not up by the time I finish."

"Oh, well then, you're pretty tough." Magnes corrects, laughing at his lame pun, then nodding. "Alright, I might be going to sleep soon, so I'll talk to you in the morning."

Elvis nods, slipping out the backdoor to finish the last bits of painting. Soon her precious thumper would be finished.

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