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What would you do if an army of heavily armed Neo-Nazis came your way? "Almost out of clips.." Mumbled Dredd, reloading his uzis before whipping around the wall again, firing at the enemies swarming the streets. Each soldier was unarmored, rather each wearing black jeans and combat boots with black gloves of various types and black hoodies with Swastikas sewn into the fabric of each, and with black bandannas hiding their faces. They were all armed with some sort of weapon, most with assault rifles, "officers" with pistols, and some even with heavier weapons like LMGs or even RPGs. But here Thad was, fighting them off with a ragtag group of others who happened to have good guns. Others simply ran to hide, or just got shot. Thad needed help, and so did the dwindling members of the police and the little militia that was helping him. He was no superhuman, after all, just a guy with a lot of luck, a lot of bulletproof stuff, and a lot of skill.

Cody had been preparing for this moment his entire life. It was one reason he'd fought so valiantly against gun laws. And right now, he was living the dream, er, nightmare.

Gunfire echoed outside the building he and his own militia were holed up inside. They'd just discovered another pocket of neo nazis perusing down their street, interrupting their meeting about how to react.

Cody signaled for his men to spread out and take up spots near the windows. They did so, bringing their guns up and aiming them out the windows. They were a rag-tag group, firing everything from Remingtons to Smith&Wessons. From pistols to shotguns to rifles.

Cody had a shotgun in his hand, and he picked off two of the advancing army before the rest of his men opened fire. A quarter of the group went down, before return fire began. Cody grinned and reloaded.

Noticing fire from a nearby building, Thad ran over to it, slipping in through the door before slipping down it, reloading. An armblade slipped out, picking out what bullets had found their way into his vest. "God, this sucks so much." He said to no one in particular before he realized that he was out of clips. "And that sucks more." He let the other blade slip out, before he ran out the door again. That superhuman sight took hold once again, and he was able to work around each person, spotting every weapon. Those blades sliced through guns like butter, and through the Achilles tendon or gun arm just as well. He was quick, kicking and slashing like a madman.. A skilled one.

The dark purple ferarri flew through the streets without much troubles. An engine that roared violently as it ran into some enemies, running them over with once clean tires. Gunshots could barely touch the speeder,as they did a squealing turn an full speed. Machine guns slid out from the sides as a flurry of bullets fired at the soldiers, the car doing a U-turn as it fired.

Cody watched as more of the soldiers fell, though he couldn't tell why. There weren't enough of his own men shooting to bring them down as fast as they were dropping. But then he noticed someone almost just out of view. A man in a doorway, watching the enemy.

Cody didn't say anything. He left one of his lieutenants in charge with a single nod, and then made his way down the back of the building...intending to find this man.

When a suicidal driver made further mincemeat of the advancing army, Cody took advantage of the distraction to hunt the man down. He wanted to know who he was and whether they could join troops.

"It's a good deal, Jack. You should take it," the swarthy, overweight man growled in Jack Vindici's ear.

Jack was less convinced. Before him sat a collection of weapons in very good condition, all for reasonable prices; furthermore, there was plenty of ammunition on a nearby table marked up for low prices. The problem with this situation was that Jack wasn't being offered the deal on the weapons, he was being offered the deal to either walk across the street and bomb a suspected milita safehouse or else the gun which was being pressed into his side would go off. Jack didn't feel like being an errand boy today, so he told the man next to him how he felt, in various and colorful expletives.

Well, that went about as well as could be expected. The bullet hit his spine and he went straight to the floor. Another round to the head, and he was gone. His killer stood over him without saying anything, and was soon joined by a couple of lackeys. The pair grabbed Jack by his wingtip shoes and began to drag him off when the sound of gunfire outside alerted them; the henchmen dropped Jack onto the floor like a sack of laundry and drew weapons. The overweight man drew his own weapon and ordered them outside. Jack lay on the cool concrete floor for a few more minutes, and then let out a gasp. He got to his feet, looked around, and shrugged.

"I guess they had other things to take care of."

It was at this point that Doc would show why exactly he was thought of as a superhuman. This eyesight was nothing... This skill.. Was nothing. He removed his goggles, those yellow eyes staring intimidatingly out at the crowd firing at him. A bullet grazed his cheek, and then all other bullets coming his way stopped in midair, only to be forced back by nothing, to riddle the ones who fired. He could pick up and throw the soldiers using only his mind, creating chaos while just standing still in that one place. an RPG was fired, but didn't go, erupting in the user's hands instead, guns were ripped and bent and torn, men crushed or tossed like ragdolls. He was in full concentration mode, and nothing could touch him now unless that concentration was broken.

The car grazes through some more enemies before a bullet hit the gas tank. The car puttered to a halt on the side of the streets, guns still out and firing wildly at the crowds. The car was unusual, but whoever was drving it could not be seen. Windows dark as night hid the inside, and the doors stayed shut tightly. The car recovers long enough to turn and fire a missile into the crowd, engine roaring as gas leaked from the bullet hole spot.

Cody dove for cover in a doorway as the car began to slow down to a halt. He was impressed by the driver before bullets began to fly in his direction again. He returned fire, taking down several more guys before stopping to reload the shotgun. He was running low on shells; his pocketful wasn't going to see him through this and back to his sequestered militia.

With an eye to the stranger, he realized that no bullets were zipping past him, so he maneuvered to get behind the guy. Whatever he was doing, it was effective. And Cody returned fire, picking off the immediate guys coming in. That was when some fire from behind him started.

"Crap."

Until his captors came back, Jack had free reign of the room he was in, and what a doozy of a room it was. He was standing in the main weapon storeroom for the local branch of the black market, and though little good could be said about their approach to unpaid tabs, their selection was certainly of good quality and well-supplied with ammo. Jack made a noise that could be approximated to the onomatopoeia "squee" and began rushing around the room, grabbing weapons and waving them around in mock combat. He jumped on a nearby table of handheld rocket launchers and pretended to shoot an empty PPSH-41 SMG, making the appropriate firing noises with his mouth. He was a kid in an illegal storehouse of candy for the local smuggler's organization.

However, his excitement was cut short as the sounds of battle outside reached him. His horoscope had said that he would be needed to resolve the conflict of others today, so he picked up a few rifles and stuffed them in an empty duffle bag; also, he grabbed a handful of handguns and threw them in as well. Now he just had to figure out how he was going to move the ammo for all this stuff...

That one little word from Cody was what sent Thad out of his concentration. He'd been concentrating on the sounds of battle, and when that flow was interrupted, He finished off with one quick shockwave of mental energy, crushing buildings and vehicles, people and weapons. The casualties were quite large, and the Nazi army was beginning to weaken. A few were running, others extremely unsure, as soon as police arrived. Before blacking out, his nose bleeding like it always did after such a big mental feat, Doc pulled his goggles over his eyes again before struggling toward a home, managing to drag himself inside before those yellow eyes closed. He'd be out for a little while, but it wasn't anything to worry about.He'd sustained some bullet injuries before he used his telekinesis in his arms and legs, one in his shoulder, uncomfortably close to his throat. He'd be fine however.

54 slid quite a few block away from the shockwave, but stayed intact. Though she had rolled several times before she slammed into a pole and fell silent, guns sliding back into her sides. She tried to move, but her tires were warped. It left her beaten build against the pole, gas dripping out from her hood.

Cody provided cover fire for the guy who seemed pretty out of it. And then quickly ducked around the house to enter through the backdoor. The sounds of gunfire began to peter out and he breathed a sigh before finding the man collapsed inside the front door.

With a grunt, he hauled the man further in, and then propped him up on a couch. He'd let the guy rest for a while, until he regained consciousness. In the meantime, he would scout the house for ammo and weapons.

Jack walked out into the alley with several bandoleers of different ammo across his chest and the duffle bag hanging somewhat unsteadily behind him. It appeared that the fighting here wasn't as intense as the noise had made it seem; there were only two people heading away from him into a nearby house, and one of them appeared to be unconscious. He raised the PPSH and called out to the pair inside the house, prepared to open fire on the one who was moving around.

"Hey, fella, what's the wire on this mess? I need to know who's shooting at who, or else I'll shoot at you."

Jack could maybe work on his timing for rhyming threats, considering that the man moving around looked like he was in no mood to laugh.

Doc could hear the voices, but couldn't make out what was being said. He could say only one thing, and was still quite out of it. "Nazis..." And he pointed a struggling finger out the window. He tried to move, but his body was just as damaged from the shockwave as anything else around him, muscle wise. He'd have to rest for a long moment before he could even walk again.

54 cringes and attempts to back up from the pole. She ended up causing it to fall, landing beside her with a loud THUD and narrowly missing her in the process.

Cody froze and looked at where the voice was coming from. "Wha-" he took in the man's outfit and the PPSH and frowned. "Name's Cody Wesson. I'm the head of a small militia holed up inside those buildings out there." He gestured with his thumb at the building across the way. "Seems we're in the middle of a war against Nazis. And I'm on your side--assuming you're not for the Nazis."

Cody narrowed his eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing with all those weapons?"

Jack looked around him. Funny, this didn't look like Germany; still, he hadn't anything better to do today than settle his tab with the black market, and that problem had already sorted itself out. A little gunfight or two would be just the thing to have before he went off and grabbed lunch. He lowered the PPSH and lit up a cigarette after gingerly weaving his way through the many bandoleers to grab his lighter from inside his suit jacket.

"Sounds like fun, mac. I'm Jack Vindici, and I was just over there," he pointed, "settling a debt with your friendly neighborhood weapon smugglers. They've got a whole load of weapons and ammo over there, as well as a few more defensible positions than this place. Why not make a party out of it? Grab princess there and let's make a beeline."

"I'm.. Good... I can walk, I think." Thad said as he struggled to his feet, shuffling forward a few inches. "By the way... If you ever call me Princess again I'll tie you to a wooden post covered in honey next to a bear cave." He joked, stretching a bit before he sheathed those armblades, drawing his rapier. "I've got my sword and bulletproof, I'll be fine without a gun. I'm out of psychic energy, so I'll have to just use my eagle sight and dexterity to finish up. I plow through the front lines while you two give me cover?" He offered, wiping the blood out from under his nose.

Cody almost had to stifle a laugh at the princess remark. Instead he stared incredulously at the dude who'd been lying on the couch nearly comatose.

"You're kidding right? You're full of more holes than your Kevlar vest and you want to take on the front lines? No. Not until I get my people rounded up."

Of course, what he wasn't seeing was that several of his men were approaching a car that had narrowly missed being squashed by a pole and were attempting to find out who the driver was.