CSI: NY AU: The Tomorrow People
Sep. 10th, 2005 04:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardI amuse myself sometimes.
This takes place in an AU universe similar to the Marvel universe, where various superhumans have begun to appear, both good and bad. The NYPD has designated a special taskforce to fight this "super-crime", and the Meta-Human Investigation Unit includes Detectives Mac Taylor, Stella Bonasera, Danny Messer, Kaile Maka, and Eddie Vicaro. Following a devastating attack on the MHIU Lab on Mulberry Street, Mac Taylor and Stella Bonasera have begun secretly devising a serum to give meta-powers to ordinary human beings, and Danny Messer, severely injured in the attack, has volunteered to be the serum's first human tester. In other places around the city, masked vigilantes have begun fighting back against the waves of super-crime, making a considerable dent in both normal crime and super-crime. One of the most famous is the Angel, a costumed vigilante with a twelve-foot wingspan and a hard right hook. The New York Herald's Aiden Burn has been covering super-crime and those that fight it, both with the law and against it. Recently, the US Government has announced its intention to develop a meta-human team to combat the super-crime threatening to envelope America. Doctors Sheldon Hawkes and Jane Parsons have been placed in charge of the New York branch. A major super-criminal, the Ghost, has appeared lately, making headlines in all major New York newspapers as the MHIU works furiously to catch her.
Aiden crossed her legs at the ankle and leaned back in her chair, one hand cupped around her coffee cup. "So," she said, "when are you going to let me break this story?"
"There is no story," Danny said.
She arched one eyebrow. "Not yet. But I'm gonna be the one to break it."
"Sure you are," he agreed equably.
Aiden leaned forward and jabbed a finger into his collarbone. "C'mon, Messer. You know I got half of your dirty little secret, and either you tell me the other half, or what I know goes on the front page of the Post and you and your freak scientist friends are screwed. When I get done with you, you ain't gonna have a job with the NYPD anymore."
Danny caught her hand by the wrist and removed it from his person, putting it down gently on the table. "Now, Aiden, why would you go doing a thing like that?"
She quriked a slightly cool smile at him. "' Cause this is the story that's gonna make my career, pal."
*
"Well," Stella said, "this is it."
She and Mac both stared at the vial held alone in the test tube rack. "I should be doing this," Mac said, almost to himself, and Stella turned to shoot him a fierce glare.
"Yeah, and then what are we supposed to do if something screws up?"
"Well...I left very detailed notes..."
Stella caught him by the shoulder and turned him toward her. "You are not drinking that," she said. "I will drink that before you do, and there are reasons we got Danny to do it."
"I'm so glad I'm your guinea pig, Stella," Danny said dryly as he pushed the door open. "Sorry I'm late. It done?"
Mac stepped aside so Danny could see the vial. "Are you sure you want to do this, Danny?"
"Yeah, I am," Danny said. He dropped his backpack on the floor and stepped over to the lab bench, lifing the vial up to the light. "We know what this'll do yet?"
"Well..." Mac said.
"No," Stella said.
"Not exactly," Mac added, shooting her a glare.
"Great," Danny muttered. He tilted the vial back. "Bottoms up."
*
COSTUMED VIGILANTE 'ANGEL' FOILS ROBBERY GONE BAD
By Aiden Burn
The Angel, one of New York's most famous costumed vigilantes, today foiled the attempted robbery of TIffany Jeweler's. Five thieves marched into Tiffany's at closing time armed with Uzi assault weapons and held the shop hostage. The NYPD SWAT team had just arrived when the Angel swung into action. He neutralized two of the thieves before taking several bullets to the torso and disappeared when the police arrested the thieves.
The Angel's identity is not known, although several anonymous tips have been given to the Herald. Descriptions of him vary, although all witness accounts agree that he has a wingspan of at least twenty feet and is fully capable of flight. The Angel is believed to reside in the Bronx, as his primary exploits take place there. He also occasionally acts in the four other boroughs.
*
"There's a picture, Donny," Gavin said, passing the newspaper across the coffee table towards Flack.
"Fuck," Flack said. He winced as Gavin bent over him and dug into his side with a pair of tweezers. "Get the fucking bullet out already, will ya?"
"The flesh already healed around it," Gavin said. "I'm having to dig for it."
"Well, I still got all my senses functioning at twice the usual rate," Flack said. He let out a hiss of pain. "'s not like I don't feel pain just because I gotta pair of wings and a healing factor."
"Well, right now your healing factor's doing more harm than good," Gavin said. "The flesh closed around the bullets, and it's a bitch to get out. The other one was a through and through, and the hole in your arm's already closed up, but this one could be a lot of trouble. Do you get infections?"
Flack shook his head and threw the newspaper down. "No. You know that."
"Just making sure." He dug a little deeper into Flack's side with the tweezers.
"Jesus Christ, Gavin, what the hell are you doing?"
The bullet came loose with a sucking pop and Gavin held it up, looking pleased with himself. "Hold out your hand," he said.
"No fucking way, pal."
Gavin shrugged and dropped the bullet into a glass jar with a half-peeled off white sauce label filled with other bullets. "Souvenir," he said. "To add to your collection."
"Because there's nothing I like more than keeping around a bunch of bloody bullets." Flack poked experimentally at his side. "Already healed," he said. "Mind if I get up now?"
"Be my guest," Gavin said. He stepped away and placed the jar back on the bookshelf next to the couch, screwing the lid back on. Flack stood up, stretching, and his white wings unfurled slowly, taking up most of the wall behind him. He flexed them appreciatively, then tilted one towards the front of him. "Man," he said, "I lost feathers. Look at this. This is split. Christ."
Gavin prodded it with one finger. "That's because you fold them up under your clothes."
"Yeah, well, the world isn't ready for winged guy yet. That's what you said three years ago, anyway."
"And I was right," Gavin said. "If you'd gone public, the NYPD -- the government --"
"Yeah, I wasn't too keen on getting tied down and experimented on either." He flexed his wings again, sending loose fluff spinning through the room. "So," he said, "you think I'm getting laid tonight?"
Commentary much appreciated.
This takes place in an AU universe similar to the Marvel universe, where various superhumans have begun to appear, both good and bad. The NYPD has designated a special taskforce to fight this "super-crime", and the Meta-Human Investigation Unit includes Detectives Mac Taylor, Stella Bonasera, Danny Messer, Kaile Maka, and Eddie Vicaro. Following a devastating attack on the MHIU Lab on Mulberry Street, Mac Taylor and Stella Bonasera have begun secretly devising a serum to give meta-powers to ordinary human beings, and Danny Messer, severely injured in the attack, has volunteered to be the serum's first human tester. In other places around the city, masked vigilantes have begun fighting back against the waves of super-crime, making a considerable dent in both normal crime and super-crime. One of the most famous is the Angel, a costumed vigilante with a twelve-foot wingspan and a hard right hook. The New York Herald's Aiden Burn has been covering super-crime and those that fight it, both with the law and against it. Recently, the US Government has announced its intention to develop a meta-human team to combat the super-crime threatening to envelope America. Doctors Sheldon Hawkes and Jane Parsons have been placed in charge of the New York branch. A major super-criminal, the Ghost, has appeared lately, making headlines in all major New York newspapers as the MHIU works furiously to catch her.
Aiden crossed her legs at the ankle and leaned back in her chair, one hand cupped around her coffee cup. "So," she said, "when are you going to let me break this story?"
"There is no story," Danny said.
She arched one eyebrow. "Not yet. But I'm gonna be the one to break it."
"Sure you are," he agreed equably.
Aiden leaned forward and jabbed a finger into his collarbone. "C'mon, Messer. You know I got half of your dirty little secret, and either you tell me the other half, or what I know goes on the front page of the Post and you and your freak scientist friends are screwed. When I get done with you, you ain't gonna have a job with the NYPD anymore."
Danny caught her hand by the wrist and removed it from his person, putting it down gently on the table. "Now, Aiden, why would you go doing a thing like that?"
She quriked a slightly cool smile at him. "' Cause this is the story that's gonna make my career, pal."
*
"Well," Stella said, "this is it."
She and Mac both stared at the vial held alone in the test tube rack. "I should be doing this," Mac said, almost to himself, and Stella turned to shoot him a fierce glare.
"Yeah, and then what are we supposed to do if something screws up?"
"Well...I left very detailed notes..."
Stella caught him by the shoulder and turned him toward her. "You are not drinking that," she said. "I will drink that before you do, and there are reasons we got Danny to do it."
"I'm so glad I'm your guinea pig, Stella," Danny said dryly as he pushed the door open. "Sorry I'm late. It done?"
Mac stepped aside so Danny could see the vial. "Are you sure you want to do this, Danny?"
"Yeah, I am," Danny said. He dropped his backpack on the floor and stepped over to the lab bench, lifing the vial up to the light. "We know what this'll do yet?"
"Well..." Mac said.
"No," Stella said.
"Not exactly," Mac added, shooting her a glare.
"Great," Danny muttered. He tilted the vial back. "Bottoms up."
*
COSTUMED VIGILANTE 'ANGEL' FOILS ROBBERY GONE BAD
By Aiden Burn
The Angel, one of New York's most famous costumed vigilantes, today foiled the attempted robbery of TIffany Jeweler's. Five thieves marched into Tiffany's at closing time armed with Uzi assault weapons and held the shop hostage. The NYPD SWAT team had just arrived when the Angel swung into action. He neutralized two of the thieves before taking several bullets to the torso and disappeared when the police arrested the thieves.
The Angel's identity is not known, although several anonymous tips have been given to the Herald. Descriptions of him vary, although all witness accounts agree that he has a wingspan of at least twenty feet and is fully capable of flight. The Angel is believed to reside in the Bronx, as his primary exploits take place there. He also occasionally acts in the four other boroughs.
*
"There's a picture, Donny," Gavin said, passing the newspaper across the coffee table towards Flack.
"Fuck," Flack said. He winced as Gavin bent over him and dug into his side with a pair of tweezers. "Get the fucking bullet out already, will ya?"
"The flesh already healed around it," Gavin said. "I'm having to dig for it."
"Well, I still got all my senses functioning at twice the usual rate," Flack said. He let out a hiss of pain. "'s not like I don't feel pain just because I gotta pair of wings and a healing factor."
"Well, right now your healing factor's doing more harm than good," Gavin said. "The flesh closed around the bullets, and it's a bitch to get out. The other one was a through and through, and the hole in your arm's already closed up, but this one could be a lot of trouble. Do you get infections?"
Flack shook his head and threw the newspaper down. "No. You know that."
"Just making sure." He dug a little deeper into Flack's side with the tweezers.
"Jesus Christ, Gavin, what the hell are you doing?"
The bullet came loose with a sucking pop and Gavin held it up, looking pleased with himself. "Hold out your hand," he said.
"No fucking way, pal."
Gavin shrugged and dropped the bullet into a glass jar with a half-peeled off white sauce label filled with other bullets. "Souvenir," he said. "To add to your collection."
"Because there's nothing I like more than keeping around a bunch of bloody bullets." Flack poked experimentally at his side. "Already healed," he said. "Mind if I get up now?"
"Be my guest," Gavin said. He stepped away and placed the jar back on the bookshelf next to the couch, screwing the lid back on. Flack stood up, stretching, and his white wings unfurled slowly, taking up most of the wall behind him. He flexed them appreciatively, then tilted one towards the front of him. "Man," he said, "I lost feathers. Look at this. This is split. Christ."
Gavin prodded it with one finger. "That's because you fold them up under your clothes."
"Yeah, well, the world isn't ready for winged guy yet. That's what you said three years ago, anyway."
"And I was right," Gavin said. "If you'd gone public, the NYPD -- the government --"
"Yeah, I wasn't too keen on getting tied down and experimented on either." He flexed his wings again, sending loose fluff spinning through the room. "So," he said, "you think I'm getting laid tonight?"
Commentary much appreciated.