Gray Heroics: Book 2

Hit-Chick #2 / BTS #6

[ At Mount Olympus… ]

“You… scandalous man-whore!” A woman's voice screams furiously before a sudden sound of glass of some sort shattering follows a mere second after.

“Kyrene, my love… Please, just simmer down and let me present my side of the story.” The voice of a man, the husband of the woman, tries to plead. However, the shouting and release of verbal anger persists despite his gentle tone. Out in the hall, Righteous Lad listens as guilt plagues his mind and heart, pacing back and forth as he ponders on what to do next.  His thoughts are interrupted by his, well, newfound half siblings.  Asclepius, the tallest and eldest of them all. Orpheus, the second oldest and third tallest behind Tyson. Apollonis, the youngest of the bunch and shortest, though his radiant blonde hair illuminating like a light bulb stands out even more than the black sheep that is his half brother Tyson. And finally Ligheonis, the third oldest and only living daughter among them. The four share similarities to a noticeable degree, which are particularly their blonde hair and yellow-ish orange eyes. A very clear contrast to Tyson's black hair and radiant jade-green eyes.

“You dress funny.” The boy, Apollonis, comments with a grin on his face. 

“Uuhh… Yeah, I guess something like this does stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this.” Tyson responds while examining his costume.

“It's quite pretentious in an unusual way, but I do appreciate the uniqueness of your sense of fashion.” Orpheus comments, smiling warmly, as well.

“Were you truly raised among mortals all your life?” Ligheonis asks, looking him over with a slight tilt of her head. 

“Yeah, since I was a baby. But… Aren't you guys worried about your parents? Does them arguing not bother you at all?” Tyson questions as he looks them all over with a wary expression. 

“It does, but my curiosity of you is a helpful distraction.” Orpheus responds.

“A turbulence has indeed begun, but I know all of this will settle and turn out for the better. Panicking will not numb the discomfort.” Asclepius informs. He then turns his attention toward his other three siblings.

“We will get through this together. I promise.”

“I believe in your words, Asclepius.” Ligheonis nods.

“I truly do hope so. A musician can find inspiration in despair, but I've no will of strength to tug a cord when my heart is heavy.” Orpheus comments.  

Sighing heavily, Tyson looks to the side while rubbing at the back of his head.

“I wonder how the others are getting along… Didn't think I'd spend three days here.”

[ Back In Chicago… ]

“Take them down!” The Crow calls his team into action and the group of three quickly get to work to stop a shootout between two gangs in the middle of a random street in north Chicago. Alexecute and The Crow take the lead with the former making use of her manipulation of electricity to conjure a transparent ball of magnetism, of which she goes onto raise high above her head like a levitating globe and gives it the juice it needs to draw every single firearm from the thugs below from her position above on the roof of a short store building. The latter jumps down, landing atop of a car within a perching posture before he goes on to run atop of the surface and throw himself at the nearest thug to deliver a solid drop-kick to the face. The teen Samaritan lands on his back after sending his target collapsing on concrete, then quickly pushes and puts all of his effort into kicking himself back onto his feet. No time to consider his next action, the second nearest thug comes charging at the youth with a wild right hook swing. The male teen takes retreating steps and leans out of harm's way with ease, however, his attacker pursues to take several more swings. Left hook, right hook, and a sloppy attempt at throwing a thrusting kick for the stomach - a combination The Crow ducks his head under the first punch of, raises his left arm to block the second by stopping the momentum of the thug's punch by colliding their forearms, and steps aside to allow the kick to pass by as he throws all of his might behind a low roundhouse kick that trips the man off of his lonesome leg. Quick to end the struggle, The Crow runs over to pseudo-straddle in a fashion where his right knee pins the man's bicep down while his left foot remains flat on solid ground, and gives a strong strike of his elbow to the temple that knocks the criminal out cold.