Post by Question on Jul 19, 2013 22:45:59 GMT -4
A steady deluge of rain pelted Metropolis's lower rent district. The droplets thick to the point that it almost seemed like the city was trying to wash the taint off its very skin. But the grime and grit of its seedy underbelly was to much for something as simple as water alone. Such things like corruption needed more then water, they needed truth and heavy handed justice. And good old fashioned elbow grease never hurt anything either. Which was exactly what he had in mind. Seeking the truth and using some good old fashioned elbow grease to dispense a bit of heavy handed justice.
It was called Kick on the street, but the Question knew it as Hypercortisone D. A highly addictive aerosol used by metahuman individuals to attain a boost in superhuman or mutant powers as well as attain a mental high. The vile concoction had hit the streets with the frenzy of any high end designer drug. Unfortunately, Metropolis was not this drugs only place of business. Like the common cold it had spread and spread quickly. But Metropolis was that place where the Question had chosen to begin his own investigation.
An investigation that was very different then the investigation being conducted by the police or other authorities. No, they were to limited in scope. Looking for the kingpin, the distributor, the dealer on the street. Question saw deeper then that, for he was in search of its inventor... its origin. The drug racket was a hydra, cut off one head and two more sprang up. But get down to its very roots and you could choke the life out of the whole thing.
The deluge continued as the blue fedora was pulled tighter. droplets rolled freely down the smooth contour of the pseudoderm mask that provided Question with his anonymity. His blue trenchcoat flapped in the wind as lightening over head momentarily illuminated the subway entrance. Casually he entered as he followed the street dealer that would be the first rung in the ladder that he would step on.
"Does your momma know you're a low life scum bag?" Question said as he approached the dealer quickly. The man was in the middle of a sell when Question descended upon him with the dimly lit subway. All he saw as he whirled around was a blank face, but he felt all the searing pain as Question punched him in the rib cage and then dropped him to the ground.
"I want the name of the man who brings this crap into Metropolis." His voice was gruff and commanding and even though his face was devoid of features it would not take a genius to know there was an anger upon the fedora wearing man. And in the background shadows moved as the drug dealers pose approached. "Your trapped ass hole." Retorted by dealer, though he was caught by a chuckle.
"That was the point." He simply said as he rose to his feet with a kick for good measure and turned to face the new assailants. A group of scum that would soon to be informants to the cause of justice. They just needed some sense knocked into them first.
It was called Kick on the street, but the Question knew it as Hypercortisone D. A highly addictive aerosol used by metahuman individuals to attain a boost in superhuman or mutant powers as well as attain a mental high. The vile concoction had hit the streets with the frenzy of any high end designer drug. Unfortunately, Metropolis was not this drugs only place of business. Like the common cold it had spread and spread quickly. But Metropolis was that place where the Question had chosen to begin his own investigation.
An investigation that was very different then the investigation being conducted by the police or other authorities. No, they were to limited in scope. Looking for the kingpin, the distributor, the dealer on the street. Question saw deeper then that, for he was in search of its inventor... its origin. The drug racket was a hydra, cut off one head and two more sprang up. But get down to its very roots and you could choke the life out of the whole thing.
The deluge continued as the blue fedora was pulled tighter. droplets rolled freely down the smooth contour of the pseudoderm mask that provided Question with his anonymity. His blue trenchcoat flapped in the wind as lightening over head momentarily illuminated the subway entrance. Casually he entered as he followed the street dealer that would be the first rung in the ladder that he would step on.
"Does your momma know you're a low life scum bag?" Question said as he approached the dealer quickly. The man was in the middle of a sell when Question descended upon him with the dimly lit subway. All he saw as he whirled around was a blank face, but he felt all the searing pain as Question punched him in the rib cage and then dropped him to the ground.
"I want the name of the man who brings this crap into Metropolis." His voice was gruff and commanding and even though his face was devoid of features it would not take a genius to know there was an anger upon the fedora wearing man. And in the background shadows moved as the drug dealers pose approached. "Your trapped ass hole." Retorted by dealer, though he was caught by a chuckle.
"That was the point." He simply said as he rose to his feet with a kick for good measure and turned to face the new assailants. A group of scum that would soon to be informants to the cause of justice. They just needed some sense knocked into them first.