Sonata 3

"Alright, now come on!" Lung growled to his men. "Let's go teach those punks not to screw with the ABB."

The assembled thugs and goons gave cries of approval, pumping their fists in the air.

Lung snorted once before turning around and starting to stomp down the street, his gang following behind them.

"Actually..."

A voice coming from nowhere caused the draconic yakuza to stop in his tracks, his men halting behind him. Lung snarled, a deep grinding sound as his head snapped to where the voice originated from.

Leaning against the wall of a nearby alley was a lanky female form clad in dark clothing with a purple flame design. Her face was obscured by a paint mask. "I'd rather you not do that." She finished, turning her head to stare at the gang leader.

Lung knew almost immediately who it was. "Composer." He growled.

"Oh!" She tilted her head languidly. "You know me?"

The asian parahuman grunted in acknowledgement. "You are influential. Some of your work is quite... intriguing." He narrowed his eyes beneath his mask. "Why are you here?"

The girl shrugged lazily. "One of my Reapers decided to leave you a little present. We were just finishing up when another one just so happened to overhear your little conversation. Again, I'm going to ask you to not hurt those kids."

Lung drew himself up to his full height, glaring down at the tagger. "And why should I do that?"

The teen straightened herself up as she stayed standing against the wall. "Well now. See, we Reapers? We stand for liberty. Freedom of expression and release from the shackles of oppression and all that. And what you're doing? Hurting those kids because you can? Because you're bigger and stronger and meaner? Now, there's a chance, a possibility I'm wrong, but... isn't that oppression?"

Lung rumbled indignantly. "It appears that you are lacking in information. You believe that we are attacking innocent children? We are not. The targets of our fury are the Undersiders. They robbed my casino, and now they shall rightfully pay."

The Composer stiffened for a moment before relaxing and shaking her head. "Doesn't matter."

Lung crossed his arms, staring holes through the teenager. "You would help a gang of villains?"

"Villain, civilian or hero, we won't just let you do what you will to them. And before you try using an argument like 'is this not our freedom' or something else, just because we support freedom doesn't mean we'll allow tyranny."

The dragon-masked man's growling ramped up a notch, sparks beginning to spray from his mask. "And what makes you think you can stop us?" He demanded imperiously.

The Composer tilted her head inquiringly. "You think that I can't?"

Lung nodded definitively. "You are influential, but you are no threat. Your followers are rebels, artists. Peasants. What can you do to us?"

The Composer shrugged indifferently. "One thing."

She pushed herself off from the wall and turned to face the yakuza, her legs spread and her arms tucked into her hoodie's pockets.

"We can stop you."

Lung threw his head back and barked out a harsh laugh. "And who do you believe will do that, little rebel? Can you injure me?"

The Composer shook her head. "No, I can't hurt you."

"Then in that case-!"

"But my friend can."

Lung snapped his head back towards the girl. "What fr-?"

He was then hit by a stampeding brown rhino with a tribal-tattoo lightning-shaped horn on it's nose and spikes poking from it's shoulders.

CRASH!

The rhino carried the parahuman across the street and through the wall opposite the alley it had charged out of.

The ABB goons stared dumbfounded at the resulting hole, flinching in fear as an enraged roar came out.

"Well!" The Composer clapped her hands, drawing their attention back to her. "That ought to keep him occupied for awhile. Minimal Rhinos are notoriously thick-skinned. So, are you all going to go back home quietly, or are we going to have a problem?"

There was a large amount of clicking as the gangbangers brought their guns up and took aim at the girl.

The Composer rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. "Of course we are."

"Call that... that thing off him, now!" One of the thugs threatened with a raised pistol aimed squarely at her head.

"Or what?"

"We'll shoot you dead!"

The Composer tilted her head again. "What guns?"

The thug sputtered indignantly. "What g-these guns!" He brandished his weapon menacingly...

Then shrieked in fear when a blur of orange flew right by him, snatching it from his hands.

Cries of shock and outrage rang out from the assembled thugs as multiple orange streaks strafed by them, divesting them of their firearms.

Finally, the figures moved away from the thugs, flapping up to the rooftops where they finally slowed down enough to become visible. They were bird-like creatures with brown feathers, bright orange tribal designs comprising the heads and supporting their wings.

Following the bird-things up to the roofs, the ABB thugs paled in fear. Lining the edge of the buildings were multiple figures dressed in varying outfits and styles. They were all glaring angrily down at the asian gangsters, and they all had spray paint cans clutched in their hands.

The Reapers had come to show their strength.

.

One of the birds flew directly above the crowd, and those who watched it shouted in shock as it alighted upon the shoulder of a flying Reaper who was supported by a pair of skeletal tribal wings jutting from her shoulders.

"You guys were saying something about guns?" She taunted.

Another Reaper on the rooftops gave a derisive laugh as he flipped a can in his hands. "If they were, it was nothing a few good old fashioned cans of Easterraven couldn't handle."

The brute who had initially spoken swallowed heavily before grinning nervously. "Y-yeah? So what? What are you guys gonna do? You're nothing but a bunch of lowlife punks! What're you gonna do, spraypaint us to death?"

One of the Reapers wearing an Australian outback hat held up a trio of fingers before lowering one. "First, you calling us lowlives? I'm sorry, but someone had to call you on the hypocrisy." He lowered a second finger. "Second, not to death, just unconscious, we're not you after all." He lowered the final finger. "And third..."

He unhooked a can of paint from his belt, pointed it at his feet, and began spraying all across his lower body.

The ABB could only stare dumbfounded as his legs were coated in a set of tribal tattoos, altering his legs so that they looked like a massive pair of kangaroo legs.

"To answer your question, yes, we are going to beat you with spraypaint."

All along the roofs, Reapers brought out cans of spray paint and coated their limbs. Some got bear claws, others frog legs, some bat wings, and one even had a set of tentacles sticking out of his back.

Others also used cans to spray on the ground next to them. There were flashes of corporal static followed by animals arising next to the Reapers. The animals were odd, seemingly normal but with parts of their anatomy replaced with tribal tattoos made 3D.

Jellyfish with replaced stingers that swayed on the night breeze, croaking frogs rested upon stylized hindlegs, irate hedgehogs ruffled their unearthly quills, and tattooed wolves that prowled the rooftops on foreclaws made from swirls of sharp color, looking hungrily upon the prey below. Even a few bears, long bony arms crossed in front of their furry chests glared arrogantly at the yakuza-wannabes.

But not all the Reapers used spray cans. Some limbs simply began glowing as tattoos lit up upon them, materializing their unearthly armaments, while others knelt down and slapped their hands on the rooftops, and seconds later were joined by their helpers.

When all was said and done, the ABB were left staring at a small army, armed to the teeth and ready to kick their asses.

"Okay, everyone!" The Composer clapped her hands together twice, a smile evident in her voice. "We came out here tonight for a party, and now? We have our party! So, who wants to kick things off?"

She was answered with Gangsta diving down, flapping her wings to keep her just above the ABB members, and proceeding to reel back and boot one square in the head.

After that, everything was pandemonium.

The Reapers descended from the rooftops, some sliding down drainpipes, others throwing down ropes and scaling down the buildings, while others still simply jumped without abandon, either landing heavily but unharmed upon the pavement with their enhanced legs or taking to the air with their wings. They descended on the ABB like a plague of locusts, ripping into them left and right.

Reapers with arm enhancements smacked down ABB members, knocking them silly with single blows from their massive claws or picking them up and actually using them as living projectiles. Others with powerful legs delivered devastating kicks, sending their foes reeling into their comrades and leaping about the field. Winged Reapers kept above the struggle, harassing the gangsters by taking shots at whatever they could hit.

And they weren't alone. At an unseen signal, the animals accompanying gave them support. The jellyfish incapacitated thugs with their tentacles while wolves and frogs dashed and jumped between Reapers, snapping at legs and forearms and landing and taking off with concussive force, causing their targets to drop weapons or simply drop screaming.

Others started screaming as well, some as the ravens fell upon them like a colour-filled black cloud, claws digging into their faces before flapping away to leave long bleeding rents, while others were pinned to the asphalt by quills launched from the hedgehogs through their clothing, leaving them open to crushing blows from the bears..

One ABB guy staggered back from the fight, breathing heavily. "Holy crap, these guys are nuts!" He muttered to himself. Noticing a pair of Reapers approaching him menacingly, he glanced around for any means of escaping until he noticed a guy in a red hoodie, standing away from the fray, observing it casually.

Acting fast, he dashed up to the guy and grabbed him, wrapping his arm round his neck and fishing a switchblade out of his pocket, which he held to the guy's throat. "Stay back!" He shouted. "Back! Or I slit this guy's throat!"

The approaching Reapers halted, glanced at each other... and broke down laughing.

The ABB goon blinked in surprise. "Wh-what!? W-why are you two laughing!? I-I have a hostage!"

"Because," said hostage drawled boredly. "You just tried to make a hostage out of Chicago Blues."

All of a sudden, a wolf jumped out of nowhere and clamped its jaws on the arm holding the knife, yanking it away violently. The asian outlaw shouted in pain for a moment before screaming in terror as a second bowled him over, the wolves proceeding to tear into him.

Chicago turned and shook his head, sighing despairingly. "Dumbass."

In the middle of the mob, Hip giggled childishly as she skipped through the chaos, a raven zipping past to rake its claws in a thug's face. She loved masses of people like this, it made her life so much easier. A wallet here, a roll of cash there, a fancy watch or phone from somewhere, life was wonderful for the teenage pickpocket.

At least, it was until she was halted by a bruised and battered asian thug blocking her path, towering above her menacingly. The brute smiled grimly at her as he cracked his knuckles. "Hey there brat," He snarled. "Don't you know it's dangerous to go out alone?"

Hip pouted childishly as she crossed her arms behind her back and balanced on her heels. "Aww, but I wanted to go out and have some fun! Say, will you play with me?"

The man's smile became even more vicious. "Suuuure," he taunted. "Got a game in mind?"

The girl's mouth morphed into a taunting smile. "Yeah, one!"

Hop jumped on the man's back, slapping his sleeve-covered hands over his eyes. "Peekaboo!"

Hip pounced forwards, ramming her fist into the man's genitals.

The man gasped in pain, doubling over in agony, allowing Hop to drop to the ground and kick at the back of the asian gangster's knees, forcing him to drop to the ground. Hip then slammed her knee into his nose, and when he snapped snapped his head back in pain, Hop finished him with a double-fisted blow to his forehead, leaving him unconscious and groaning on the road.

The twins immediately went to work, patting the thug down thoroughly.

"Five Benjies in his wallet!" Hip crowed, brandishing the wallet.

"Oooh, fancy!" Hop giggled as he looked over the smartphone he'd procured. He then gave his sister a devilish grin. "Hey, I think I saw a guy with a Rolex!"

"Oh! Expensive!" Hip agreed. "Lead on!"

A Reaper in a rain slicker and hat watched bemusedly as the twins darted off into the crowd. "Well, that was thoroughly disturbing."

The thug clutched in the massive crab claw that covered his right arm gargled miserably as he tried to pry his neck free.

The Reaper gave him a surprised look. "Oh, you're still here?" He asked in honest surprise. "I don't have time for you, shoo!" He flicked his arm casually, sending the man flying back and into the overly large orange tattoo claw of a yellow crab. The man waved at the crab noncommittally. "Get rid of him."

The crab reeled it's claw back, heedless of the struggling man's protests, and flung him through the air.

The gangster flailed desperately as he arced uncontrollably through the air, coming to land painfully on the pavement well clear of the crowd. He groaned in agony as he tried to draw himself to his feet.

His face was then reacquainted with the ground courtesy of a boot stamping itself on the back of his head.

"I'd recommend staying down," the Composer advised without looking at him. "You're done."

The Composer tapped her foot casually as she watched the fight, satisfied with the way things were going. Some of her Reapers had taken a few licks, but nothing they couldn't bounce back from. Things were looking up.

Suddenly, something caused her to frown in confusion and take her headphones off her head. She strained her ears before sighing sadly at what she heard.

Nothing quite killed the buzz like a motorcycle roaring in the night.

Several Reapers stopped fighting and gave each her worried looks, but she waved them off. "I'll handle it, I'll handle it," She reassured. "You guys keep having fun."

The Reapers nodded at her gratefully before returning to using an ABB member as a human beachball, much to his regret and pained resignation.

The Composer strolled up the street nonchalantly, stepping on the backs of unconscious gang members as she went. Finally, she came to halt partway up the street, waiting.

She didn't even flinch as the motorcycle slid to a halt mere inches away from her.

All she did was raise an eyebrow as Armsmaster loomed above her.

"The ever elusive Composer." He intoned darkly.

The teenage parahuman shrugged casually. "That's my name."

The hero's jaw twitched violently as he grit his teeth. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

The Composer glanced over her shoulder for an instance before looking back and shrugging. "Citizen's arrest?"

An ABB goon screamed in fear as he flew by the pair, dragged behind a light blue penguin with dark blue tattoo flippers who was sliding on it's belly at a respectable clip that was carrying a madly cackling Reaper on it's back.

The Composer leaned around Armsmaster to stare after her friend for a second before straightening up. "Flash mob? You'd be surprised at how popular Popguin surfing is, I know I was."

Armsmaster ground his teeth together in frustration. "And what. About. Lung."

The Composer flashed him a happy thumbs up. "We handled him."

"ROOOAAAAAR!"

CRASH!

Silence reigned as an immense explosion rang out over the din of the fight.

For a moment, nothing moved. Then...

SMASH!

A brown rhino fell from the sky onto Armsmaster's motorcycle, crushing it to bits. The beast gave a final keening groan before evaporating into static.

The Composer stared at the wreck for a second before nodding at Armsmaster. "We're handling him."

"ROOOOAAAAAR!"

Lung bellowed furiously as he climbed out of the building, scales covering a good part of his body and flames wreathing him in an infernal aura. "'ill oo!" He grunted. "'ill oo ALL!"

The hero growled furiously, making to step around the tagger. "Stay out of my way."

He was halted by the teenage parahuman slapping her hand on his chestplate. "No," she stated forcefully. "You stay out of ours." She whipped around to face the crowd. "GANGSTA!" She bellowed. "TAKE HIM OUT!"

The winged Reaper nodded at her boss. Acting swiftly, she folded her wings and landed on the ground in a crouch. Almost immediately, the tagger's back lit up in a flurry of colors, the semblance of a screeching raven shining through her clothes. The same logo materialized on the asphalt surrounding her on a massive scale, forcing her friends to back up.

There was a flash of light and static, an ear-shattering screech, and a black and blue blur streaking towards Lung at break-neck speeds.

Before the draconian behemoth could react, he was snatched off his feet and into the air.

All Armsmaster could do was gape in shock at what he saw. A bird-like creature, like the ones helping the Reapers, but absolutely massive in 's wings and tail were composed insanely large dark blue feathers, overlaid by purple tattoo scythe-like supports and carrying a purple tattoo beak and head.

Clutching onto the bird's back was Gangsta, cackling like a madwoman. "WOOHOO! COME ON, LUNG! WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE!"

Armsmaster shook his head numbly in shock. "You're all insane." He muttered.

The Composer threw her head back and chuckled heartily. "I know! Isn't it great?"

Lung struggled viciously in the bird's talons, trying futilely to escape. He attempted to use his fire, but the high force gales passing by him snuffed out any flames he ignited almost immediately. He roared in abject fury. "'ILL OO! 'ILL OO'EAD!"

All Gangsta did was laugh. "MAYBE LATER, DRAGON BOY, BUT FOR NOW!" The massive bird slowed its flapping, coming to a hover. "We're taking the express route back down!" The Tagger stood up on the bird's back, her fists held up in the air. "HELLO, MY NAME IS GANGSTA AND WELCOME TO JACKASS!" She dropped flat on the bird, clutching tightly to the feathers.

The bird gave a massive beat of it's wings, flipping itself over and pointing down at the ground. It flapped a massive wing, folded the appendages in, diving towards the ground in a stunning spiral.

"KOWABUNGA!" Gangsta screamed exuberantly.

Mere moments before impact with the ground, the bird snapped it's wings open, pulled out of the dive... and released it's grip on Lung.

The gang leader impacted with the ground like a meteor, shattering the asphalt and sending up a cloud of dust.

Armsmaster growled furiously as he waved his hand in front of his face, trying to disperse the fumes. "That was reckless."

The Composer shrugged. "Maybe. Still though..." She looked over at Lung as he started to groan, trying to pick himself up. "Shouldn't you be finishing the job?"

Armsmaster cursed venomously, dashing up to the shifting Parahuman. Before Lung had a chance to get on his feet, he jabbed the butt of his halberd into the man's neck. Lung gave out a final groan before collapsing on the ground, scales receding into his body.

The hero panted in exhaustion for a second before redoubling his grip on his halberd. "All right, all of you! Get on the ground, hands behind your-!" He cut off as he wheeled around...

And came face to nozzle with the two cans Hop was pointing at him as he balanced on his sister's shoulders.

"Ah crap." He groaned.

Hop grinned devilishly. "Later, Army!"

PSSSHHH!

The hero shouted indignantly, stumbling backwards as he wiped furiously at his visor trying to dislodge the paint before it dried.'

When he finally managed to clear his cameras, he couldn't withheld a groan at what he saw.

The Reapers were long gone, leaving behind the broken, bruised and battered remains of the ABB.

Armsmaster sighed heavily, running his hand over his helmet. "Assault is never going to let me hear the end of this."

-o-

Gangsta wheezed as she leaned on the side of the alley, her hands on her knees. Giggles escaped her everytime she drew breath. "Hehehe... that... he! The was awesome! Heheheee..."

The Composer nodded in agreement, but her demeanor was a bit more serious.

Gangsta noticed almost immediately, turning to give her boss a surprised look. "Boss? Everything alright?"

The Parahuman was silent, keeping her head bowed. Finally...

"Go home, Gangsta."

The Reaper straightened up almost instantly. "Huh? But boss, why? Did I do-?"

"No, you did just fine." The Composer reassured her. "Just... it's been a long night. Go home and rest, okay?"

Gangsta stared at her for a moment longer before nodding hesitantly. "O-okay boss, whatever you say." Her back flashed with light and static for a moment before her wings materialized. "See ya later."

The Composer waved in agreement. "Later."

She waited until Gangsta took off and she was sure she was gone before digging into her pocket and drawing out a phone.

"Chiptune? Yeah, it's me. Look, tomorrow's Review is cancelled. Get the word out: we're having a recital at the Gallery, ten sharp. Uh-huh. Top priority. Right, later."

She shut the phone with a click and walked off into the night.