spin_kick_snap: (Texting)
Kathy had been doing some thinking recently, going over the activities that helped her cut through the noise in her brain. All of the ones she'd found so far involved the participation of other people and she needed to find something she could do by herself so she didn't have to keep bothering folks. And that had gotten her to thinking about the almost-reverie she'd slipped into on Dante's motorcycle. That was something she could potentially do for herself...except she'd need a bike of her own.

Or Dante could share his, but ahahahahano.

It wouldn't hurt to start looking for something like that, though, would it? Even if she didn't buy something right away, having an idea in her mind wouldn't hurt. She made her way towards the Causeway and sent a text at the same time. If she were going shopping, she should consult an expert, right?

Hey. U busy?

[For the motorcycle guru and SP]
spin_kick_snap: (Ain't Nobody Got Time For This)
Kathy sat on the hard police bench, right outside the holding cell, an ice pack against her cheek. The holding tank was surprisingly full for a Wednesday night; not only were a bunch of guys from the warehouse there, but so were several drunks, two dealers, and a pickpocket. Once, she would have helped put the people in there--in fact, she recognized one of the dealers and was doing her best not to let him get a good look at her. Now, while she wasn't in the cell itself, it was only because the police didn't think it would be 'appropriate.' They thought she was still underage and Kathy wasn't about to tell them otherwise because right now, technically, she wasn't under arrest. She hadn't been handcuffed, they weren't processing her, and she wasn't even under guard--though there were several cops that occasionally checking over to make sure she was still there and sitting quietly. Nothing that happened tonight was going onto her permanent record--though she'd already gotten several paternalistic lectures on the way to the station and they weren't letting her leave until an 'adult' got here to collect her.

If she'd been thinking straight, she would have given them Raven's number and had her shift into a grumpy old Korean lady to come and fetch her. Then again, if she'd been thinking straight, she wouldn't be here now. Not that she'd been big on thinking straight since she'd been resurrected. Really, the way she'd been going, this outcome had practically been inevitable.

This will all be fine )

[Preplayed with the utterly splendid [livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive. NFB, I have all the feels]
spin_kick_snap: (Put Up Your Dukes)
Kathy rolled her shoulder; it groaned at the motion but was otherwise fine. Good, she hadn't dislocated it when she'd hit the ground. Hitting the ground had been better than getting hit by her opponent, but concrete was pretty unforgiving.

Fight Club! Ish. )

[NFI, NFB, establishy]
spin_kick_snap: (Sleepy)
Nightmare )

Kathy flung herself upright in bed, gasping for breath, shaking her head in hopes of dislodging the last images of the dream. No, memory. It was too real, to vividly detailed to be a dream. She was starting to learn the distinctions between the two. Like how memories were always worse.

Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was almost one, but the adrenaline threading through her veins wouldn't let her get back to sleep anytime soon. She thought about doing a couple of laps around the island to try to tire herself out and get a few more hours of rest but honestly? It rarely ever seemed to work. Neither did vegging out in front of the TV until dawn, or soaking in a hot bath with a book. The problem was, none of those activities were good at giving her what she was looking for: a chance to get out of her own head, to forget those things her brain was forcing her to remember. Maybe she should call Anders? He'd said to call if she needed to talk--but no. It was late, he'd possibly be in bed, and she didn't want to talk, she wanted to do.

The lights over the water from Baltimore caught her eye through the window and she shoved her blankets out of the way. Maybe that was what she needed, a trip into the city. Boston hadn't done much for her state of mind, but she'd managed to sleep every night. The bars would be closing soon, but she knew of a couple of after-hour clubs she could get into. With the pounding beat, music loud enough to deafen, and a crowd of bodies to get lost in, Kathy might finally find a way to drown out her thoughts even if she couldn't shut them up.

[Warning for zombie-typical violence to a teen under the cut.]
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai Costume)
Banzai rarely patrolled Sunday nights, taking the night off to rest and prepare for the upcoming week, but since she'd bailed on patrolling on Friday, it seemed only fair to make up for it tonight instead. Crime around the club and various campuses would be lower, but there were still plenty of drug deals, muggings, and various other, more dangerous crimes for her to stop instead. And it wasn't like Banzai was going to miss spending extra time manhandling drunk idiots into cabs and breaking up fights in alleys over stupid bullshit the participants couldn't even remember four steps away from the club itself.

The Ukranian mafia had all but vanished from the city over the past few months; apparently losing the Butcher was enough to convince them that Baltimore wasn't worth the effort. In a way, Banzai almost missed them; they were good practice for when she'd be going up against the Seventeens in LA eventually. Patrolling around Stanford (if she got in, please God let her get in) probably wasn't going to be all that much effort, so she was already making plans to portal down to LA proper at least once a month to get in a proper patrol.

Spotting Jewels, one of the working girls that was part of Banzai's loose confederation of informants, Banzai swung down from the rooftop to land on light feet nearby. Always good to check in, see if Jewels had heard of anything going down, make sure that no one was bothering her, pass along money and supplies to stay in Jewels' good graces, all that good stuff.

It felt good to get out and patrol. For all her speeches about wanting to do good for the people around her and make the world a better place, Banzai had to admit that the real reason she ran around in rainbows with a bokken on her back and rope darts in her belt was a lot more selfish. What could she say?

She loved this.
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai (Psylocke))
It had been several weeks since Banzai had patrolled Baltimore properly. She'd spent break at home in LA patrolling there (and had somehow come back to the island with stripper heels and contact information for Regenerator and she wasn't entirely sure how either of those things had happened but thankfully they weren't related). Then had come the accidental trip to Dante's world which had been traumatizing enough to keep her off the streets, followed by Homecoming, and then finishing off her college applications and SAT II studying. And, then, of course, she'd gotten a nasty cold from the weekend without power, which had kept her in bed and miserable for a few days and so, yeah, it had been almost a month since Banzai had made an appearance.

Time to see what she'd missed in over the last few weeks. A month was a long time to leave the Ukrainians alone. Long enough for them to get cocky and let down their guard if she were lucky. Long enough for them to get deeply entrenched if she were really unlucky.

At first, Banzai thought she'd gotten lucky. Her patrol was quiet. Real quiet. It took her several hours to realize that it was a little too quiet. At first, she assumed that it was simply November at work; street-level petty crime tended to dip once it started getting cold. But even so, it hadn't been cold enough to account for this many missing faces. Several well-known drug dealers had vanished and no one had stepped in to claim their locations. Looking around the club areas, she could only spot two of the regular pickpockets working the crowds, instead of the five or six she was used to. More disturbingly, a number of working girls were missing and even a few of the homeless folks she knew, both those that Banzai hired as lookouts and informants and those Kathy bought coffee and lunches for when she was in Baltimore without her mask.

So when she did finally spot someone she knew, she wasted no time in flipping her way down to the street to find out just what the hell was going on. Jewels was a pretty girl, only a few years older than Kathy herself, and had started working the streets just about the time that Kathy had come East to school. They'd met when Banzai had stopped a prospective john from giving Jewels anything worse than a black eye (she'd felt guilty about not being able to stop him from doing even that much). Banzai had stopped by a week later to hand over one of those sharp kitty-shaped keychains and after that, a decent working relationship had been born, with Banzai slipping Jewels a bit of cash from time to time and Jewels keeping an ear out for news that might interest the superhero.

If Jewels had been one of the missing, Banzai would have FREAKED. )

[Open for calls or anyone out in Baltimore, but likely to be slow, as I have a [livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive! NFB for distance]
spin_kick_snap: (Hands on Hips)
Dante and Kathy's evening out in Baltimore--she was a little hesitant to call it a date, per se--couldn't have come at a better time. A night out not thinking about the weekend was pretty much exactly what the doctor ordered. And if not thinking about the weekend happened to include a long motorcycle ride through Baltimore at speeds other people might consider 'unsafe' ('insane' might not have been entirely incorrect, either), a stop at the bar for some drinks, and the promise of much more excitement to come, well, then who was Kathy to argue?

"So, where to after this?" Kathy asked, feeling flushed and warm from the drinks and company in about equal measure. "I could show you some of my favorite places around Baltimore, but most of them are just, like, places that it's fun to ambush drug dealers and stuff."

[NFB and for one please!]
spin_kick_snap: (Showing Off Curves)
Kathy studied herself in the mirror, frowning slightly. She had done a lot of stuff as Banzai, but trying to infiltrate the mafia in disguise was a whole new level of scary. If she messed up, the Ukrainians would know a lot more about her than she really wanted them too--like what she looked like, as just one exciting example. But this was an opportunity she couldn't pass up; they were recruiting locals under the guise of a motorcycle drag race, with the top performers invited to a very exclusive party--so exclusive that no matter how hard she tried, Kathy couldn't get the location. Over the past year, she'd managed to create a decent circle of street-level informants and yet no one could tell her anything besides what was 'public' knowledge: an illegal drag race, with plenty of money to be made from betting, and an excellent afterparty for the winners. That was it.

It was all very frustrating as hell.

Even the race itself was frustrating. If it had at least been a drag race with cars, Kathy might have been able to put her Driver's Ed experience into play...somehow. She was still lacking a car, but she would have at least known how to race. Ish. Maybe. But this was a motorcycle race, and Kathy had one hour of experience driving one of those from several years ago. That would get her exactly nowhere. If she had more time, she might even have been able to appeal to Parker or Eliot for help, but she'd just gotten the message that everything was going down tonight.

Kathy didn't often swear, but this whole situation deserved quite a hearty "God dammit!"

Her current plan was to dress like a biker bunny, head to where the race was going to take place, and hope to insinuate herself in the group that got brought to the party. Yeah, she could foresee no problems with that, sure.

At least she looked the part? Hopefully? )

[Primarily for one, but open to the roomie beforehand if she so chooses. Everything that happens after they leave the island is NFB for distance.]
spin_kick_snap: (Backwards Smile Post-Workout)
So the Ukrainian mafia was still attempting to make inroads into Baltimore's criminal underground, but the police had finally started paying attention to Kathy's anonymous tips (seriously, what was the tipline even for if they were going to ignore it?) and had made several arrests the night before, catching a shipment of drugs in from the harbor. Kathy knew better than to think that that would be the end of it, but hopefully it would be enough to make them keep their heads down for a night or two.

Just to be safe, she'd still done an hour or so of patrols as Banzai before calling Ringo to arrange a meetup so they could practice their ATs on proper buildings. As Lottie would say, she was WELL EXCITED to do this. The three prospective neighborhoods she'd scoped out were all low-crime areas, mostly because there were very few people around. That didn't mean they wouldn't accidentally run into a few homeless people or a huddle of drug addicts, all looking for a place to crash without being bothered, but it cut down on the likelihood of running into anything worse.

Picking up her duffle bag from the rooftop she'd stashed it on, Kathy traded her Banzai gear for her workout clothes and started running towards their agreed-upon meetup spot. She'd strap on her ATs there, but figured she'd be better off sticking to running while she was still downtown.

Besides, there was something exhilarating at running full-speed over rooftops at night.

[Expecting one, but I guess it could be open if you have reason to be around Baltimore at night?]
spin_kick_snap: (Glam)
So, most people probably did not have a twenty-item, bullet-pointed list for ways to relax and/or enjoy themselves during the last week of break before the beginning of their senior year (definitely and/or; parties were fun but stressful), but relaxing had never been something that Kathy was all that great at anyway. And her normal method of relaxing was typically nerdy and kind of introverted methods anyway: reading comics, playing video games, practicing a routine. Stuff she enjoyed, yeah, but also things that she'd spent her entire life doing. Her current list was all about trying new things, rather than defaulting to the same activities she'd been doing for years.

Which was why she was at a club (number 8 on the list) tonight. Sure, it was a Wednesday, which wasn't exactly peak club hours, but fewer people in the club meant fewer people to get flustered by, especially if she decided to also cross off number 14 on the list, dance to make someone's jaw drop. And if she managed to humiliate herself trying for number 14, fewer people meant fewer people laughing and fewer people in her way as she bolted for the door.

Right, awesome, great pep talk.

Ignoring the small voice that was trying to convince her to trade her dress for her gi, Kathy drew on some of the confidence she had has Banzai and entered the club. It was just people. Just dancing. It wasn't a gymnastics meet with hundreds of spectators or even a nasty fight in a back alley against a guy with a knife. It was supposed to be fun. And, if it wasn't, she could always go home and play video games until dawn.

She could do this.

[For one please]
spin_kick_snap: (Lounge)
Tonight was one of the rare, quiet nights in Baltimore. Banzai patrolled her beat, but other than a few loud fights and a mugging or two, nothing serious seemed to be going down. Hell, it was the kind of night where most people were even sticking to the speed limit and crossing the street at the designated crosswalks. What was a costumed crimefighter supposed to do when nobody was even jaywalking?

Well, currently, she was sprawled out on a rooftop, looking up at the stars. Sure, the neon glow from a hundred signs and streetlights washed out most of them, but the night was clear enough that she could pick out a few. The breeze off the ocean was cool and kept the bugs away, leaving her pretty comfortable. Sure, it was no thrilling chase that ended with a desperate fight in an alleyway or anything, but the night itself was young. Maybe this was just the calm before all hell broke loose and Banzai would end up bringing down a drug-smuggling ring.

She'd done that before. Kinda by accident, but she had done it.

All right, she'd give it another hour or so. If nothing livened up by then, she'd take it as a sign and head back to the island and go to bed relatively early. And until then, she'd relax here for a little bit, trying to pick out constellations by the few stars that made it through the light pollution before going back to patrolling her beat.

Even being a superhero couldn't be exciting all the time.

[And this is what happens when you wanna make a Baltimore post and have zero inspiration! Open for texts, calls, or folks with a reason to be out in Baltimore?]
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai (Psylocke))
The night was both hot and muggy; Banzai wasn't sure whether that would mean it was too hot for people to get into much trouble, or if it was going to be one of those nights when it was so uncomfortable that it just spurred people to act like assholes. The middle of the week usually skewed towards it being too much effort, but Banzai was always a little wary. Especially tonight, when she had someone with her. Anders could take care of himself, she knew that, but she couldn't help but worry a bit anyway. It wasn't like he wandered around fighting bad guys often. Yet.

She was hoping that they could get some parkouring in, maybe take down a mugger or two or stop a drug deal or something, and he could have a fun night that took his mind off his relationship woes. She was certain that he and Nathan would be okay in a few days, it just took some time and patience.

Not that Anders was all that great at patience.

"So, I mostly patrol from the rooftops because you get the best view of what's going on," Banzai explained, gesturing out towards the city below them. "And I can usually get wherever I'm going in a hurry, unlike if I were at street level. But we can head down to the ground if you think it would be easier that way?"

[For one please! Who was modded with permission]
spin_kick_snap: (Texting)
Kathy was had been at the prom for maybe half an hour before her phone rang; just enough time for her to have a few conversations and a quick trip to the refreshment table (or four). She was frowning when she felt it vibrating in her clutch, trying to think who it could be. If it was her parents, she decided, she was just going to ignore it and tell them later she was studying.

Imagine her surprise when the name that flashed across her screen was Gorgon. Actually, forget surprise. Imagine her concern.

"Hey," she said, setting her cup of punch on the closest table and ducking for the door. "Gorgon, it's Banzai. Did you mean to call me? Is everything okay?"

[For the caller, please!]
spin_kick_snap: (Contortionist: White 02)
Banzai leapt over the edge of the building, pausing for a moment on one hand to let her quarry move into position, and then shifted her weight a fraction of an inch to let gravity take over. Freefall. A moment when she was almost flying, albeit in one direction. Hurtling four stories to the ground and loving every minute of it. She makes a noise only at the very last moment, turning her quarry's face up to hers. His expression is comical in its disbelief, which turns to pain a second later as she lands handsdown on his shoulders. If she really wanted to, she could probably dislocate his arms or maybe even break his collarbone. But that wasn't Banzai. She didn't like hurting people, not even scumbag drug dealers that liked to hit working girls.

The hitting women part really had her tempted, though. Just a little more pressure than usual and snap, crackle, pop. No more hitting people for him!

But she'd been Social Justice Warrior, not Social Vengeance Warrior, so she refrained. She hit him with just enough force to numb both his arms, forcing him to drop his briefcase with a gasp. From there, she flipped behind him, dropped low, and lashed out with her foot. He hit the ground with a cry and she kicked herself up into a standing position and dover for the briefcase, knocking it away from his grip.

That's when his three bodyguards decided to wise up and get involved.

They had guns, of course. Jerks like these always had guns. Fortunately, Kathy wasn't where they thought she'd be. She'd taken off just as soon as the briefcase had gone skittering into the shadows.

Spin kick. Hand spring. Cartwheel, backbend, roundhouse. Down went one of them. Hammer kick, vault, flying leap, gymnastic ribbons around his wrist and yank. Down went the second. Layout salto. Spin kick. Forward lunge. Spin kick.

And down went the third.

"Looks like it's just the two of us now," Banzai said, grinning at the dealer. "Do you wanna give up? Or let a little girl kick your ass, too?"

He whimpered and put his hands above his head.

Under her mask, Banzai grinned. God, she loved this.

[NFB. For anyone out in Baltimore, though thread with [livejournal.com profile] gunslingerpose comes last chronologically, please!]
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai (Psylocke))
Kathy--err, well, Banzai now, she was in costume--still wasn't quite sure how this had happened. She was on a date, with a guy that she'd talked to exactly once, and while their date had begun with the traditional nice dinner in town, their main activity was definitely not going to be found in any traditional dating guide.

Well, that might not be entirely true. If Fandom ever published a dating guide, superheroing in Baltimore would probably rate pretty highly on the 'things to do with your date' list.

"So, this is pretty much the start of my beat," she explained, tightening her mask. "I like to start up here. It's the tallest building in the area and--I don't have to explain why I like the high ground to you, right." The guy who could fly around likely understood why she liked starting off high up, yes. "I'd ask if you had any questions before we started, but I'm pretty sure you've been doing this for longer than I have. Ready?"

[NFB for Baltimore, but open to anyone likely to be wandering around Baltimore. Come crash the date! It's a new Fandom tradition (h/t [livejournal.com profile] notaweenie)]
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai Costume)
Banzai gauged the distance between here and the next rooftop over. Too long for a jump, but if she ran to the left, she could run up the wall of the building next to it, catch hold of the flag pole, and then flip off of that to the roof she was aiming for.

When she landed on the roof, she skidded on the loose gravel (why did people even do that), but managed to keep her balance with barely a thought. She'd noticed that now. Unless she was deliberately trying to fall down, she didn't. It was like she had preternatural equilibrium, to go with the bounciness and the speed. Not that she was complaining. She almost wished she was still competing in gymnastics these days. The ability to never fall was nothing short of a miracle.

Though as soon as she thought that, she realized her competition days were over. Competing with her powers would be gravely unfair for everyone else participating. That was a real bummer--her abilities could probably get her to the Olympics if she really worked at it.

Looks like she'd be sticking to doing fancy moves to take down bad guys. Still, as she hopped over the other side of the roof and perched on the jutting rainsport to look down at the city, wind tugging at her braid and her brand new gi, adrenaline still pumping in her veins from her last fight, she was confident that it was all worth it.

[Establishy, unless you have a reason to meet up with a girl on a rooftop in Baltimore. NFB for off-island shenanigans.]
spin_kick_snap: (Banzai (Psylocke))
"Wait? Are you really calling yourself 'Social Justice Warrior'?" Kathy grit her jaw and tried not to let the laughing bother her. After all, it wasn't like this was the first time she'd been laughed at tonight. Except this was a little more galling, considering that she had just stopped someone from running off with this guy's wallet. And his girlfriend's purse. Yup. This guy, currently clinging to his girlfriend's shoulder so he didn't fall over, was practically in hysterics at the same girl that had dashed off after a mugger and rescued all their stuff.

Even his girlfriend was giggling, giving her an apologetic smile as she did. "Well, it is kind of funny," she said, as if Kathy, err, rather as if Social Justice Warrior couldn't already see that they thought so. "I mean, you're one unicorn away from being a Lisa Frank trapper keeper already." Hearing that, her boyfriend doubled over again, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Well," she said with forced cheer. "I'm still glad I managed to get your stuff back." You know. As she'd done. Just sayin'. "I'd really suggest you take a cab home, though, okay? I don't think your boyfriend's in any condition to drive."

"No, no," the guy said, taking a hand off his knees to wave at her, trying to catch his breath. "I'm cool. I'll be fine. I'm just--you--trapper keeper."

Yup. Social Justice Warrior had had just about enough of this. Clearly, no thanks would be forthcoming, so she just gave them a wave (a really irritated wave, not that they could probably tell) and bounded away with "Holy shit! She's like a Gummie Bear!" ringing in her ears. It was a struggle not to turn around and pop the guy in the nose with her stick, but she was a superhero. So she refrained.

Didn't stop her from imagining it, though.

Five minutes and fifteen blocks later, Kathy was on a rooftop, trying not to feel completely deflated. Yeah, everyone had told her that her name was dumb and her costume silly, but she'd thought that the people she'd helped would at least be on her side. Ha! Yeah right. If anything, the petty thugs and the like that she tangled with were easier to deal with. Sure, they laughed at her, too, and she had yet to deal with one who thought for an instant that she could possibly be a threat, but that just made dispatching them so much more satisfying. So far none of them had laughed at her as she'd blurred off into the night. Of course, she usually left them attached to telephone poles and street lights, tied with brightly-colored gymnast ribbons, so it was possible they realized how thoroughly the joke was on them.

Unfortunately, none of the alternatives she was coming up with for Social Justice Warrior were any better. They were either too cutesy or far too contrived. The ones that sounded even remotely badass just seemed laughable when applied to her, in her karate gi and rainbow prints. Not that she was intending to change her costume--as much as she loved reading superhero comics, she did not intend to emulate one and end up looking like walking fetish-fuel--but it did make choosing an awesome name that much harder.

"Help! Stop! Police!" Kathy's sulking reverie was interrupted by a cry for help just below her. Peering down, she saw some guy in a mask tearing down the street with a young woman trying to keep up. "Help! Someone! Anyone!"

Without thinking, Kathy flung herself over the side of the building, landing in a crouch next to the pursuing woman and took off at a dash after the purse snatcher. He was already winded and she caught up to him before he even turned the corner, flinging her stick out and catching him in the back of the knee. He went flying, Kathy snatched the purse out of the air and was back at the woman's side before the last echo of her cry for help had faded.

"Oh my gosh," the woman said, looking at her. "Thank you thank you thank you so much! You just appeared out of nowhere like some kind of avenging angel!" She took in Kathy's costume a little dubiously and asked, "Are you some kind of hero? What's your name?"

The woman's description rang a few bells for Kathy and she thought back to Sparkle's comment at JGOB the other day. "Just glad I could help," she said said with a grin. "As for the name, well, you can call me Banzai."



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