Monkey Business

Characters: Voodoo, The Flash
Rated: PG
Summary: Gorilla Grodd steals a shipment of advanced weapons. Voodoo and the Flash show up to stop him.
OOC Date: 2018-03-05
IC Date: 2018-03-05
Where: The Bronx, NYC

"You have got to be kidding me." the gold-accented purple-clad woman on the skycycle mutters darkly as she banks hard and makes the turn, chasing after a box truck with its driver's side door ripped off. Voodoo is still pretty blown away, honestly. She was following the weapons shipment because she had picked up thought of it in the mind of the driver, who was supposed to deliver said weapons to his underworld contacts for a major payday.
 
Then a gorilla with a shiny chrome-dome helmet leapt from an overpass onto the truck, ripped the door off the thing, threw the driver out, and has been leading Voodoo on a high speed pursuit for the last two minutes through NYC traffic.
 
"Monkey see, monkey do, I guess." Voodoo grumbles. She's pretty sure this isn't Mousieur Mallah. But how can there be another super-smart gorilla weapons dealer?


What Voodoo probably -didn't- see, because she was too busy watching the goriilla, was the red-streak that caught the driver, and zoomed off towards the hospital instead. After depositing the man with the local paramedics, the red-streak was off again. It took him more time to explain to the paramedics what had happened, of course, than it did to run there, and run all the way back.
 
But, it's a red-streak that Voodoo's seen in person at least once before. And, depending on news, and super-hero footage, likely has seen there many times. The Justice Defenders, afterall, were the premiere heavy-hitters team on Earth.
 
And, in that moment Flash is neck-and-neck with the Gorilla, and turns his head, asking, "Pardon me, I need to see your license and registration." It's not like he can just jump in and take over - there's other cars on the road, afterall. Other lives at stake. He has to be cautious, in his approach. Wait for his moment.


Voodoo really isn't one much for watching the news, but even she recognizes that red streak blurring into place beside the vehicle. "Careful, you nut." the purple-clad woman mutters, as she tries to bring her skycycle in closer, aiming to land the thing on top of the truck in hopes of getting to the controls before this becomes a much bigger problem.
 
It's crazed and suicidal. But she gets better from almost anything, eventually. Unlike the civilians who are everywhere around here.
 
"Go away, Flash!" the mind voice of the gorilla shouts, slamming into the scarlet speedster's brain with bewildering force.
 
Up above the truck, Voodoo staggers, veering wide and struggling to get things under control, as that mental voice staggers even her shielded mind.
 
Holy crap! Telepathic gorilla?! Seriously?!


"Go away? But I -just- got here," Flash quips back, without missing a beat even if the mind slam has him losing a few footsteps or two in speed - it's virtually unnoticeable to anyone but another speedster. "Admit it, you've missed my charming personality," he continues on.

"What's this do?" Flash wonders, after checking behind himself to see that the police are finally getting some other cars on the street and getting the civilian cars behind them to pull over. He reaches inside with blinding speed since the door is open, to yank up the hood of the car, blinding Grodd's vision. "Oops."


The gorilla roars in fury as the truck swerves, Grodd struggling to get the vehicle under control and figure out how to clear his view before all of his hard work goes for naught.
 
The truck swerving violently makes it impossible for Voodoo to land on it as she had hoped. She has to bank sharply and pull up and away from the truck, making it impossible for her to help out right this moment. "Crazy Flash." Voodoo opines.
 
"Left turn, Flash!" Grodd shouts mentally, as the compulsion takes hold with brutal force.


Predictably at least to Grodd, even crazier to Voodoo perhaps, and frustrating to Flash, Flash suddenly veers left at a ninety degree angle and continues as if he were, in fact, running away for a few seconds before he realizes just what it is he's doing. "Awww, maaaan," he whines, forlornly, slapping his forehead and skidding to a stop. "Not -again-."
 
Then, with optimism only he can muster perhaps, "That trick can only work so many times, right?" Foolishly, perhaps, he believes that, and that's why the red-streak burns brightly … but not just yet towards the vehicle. Instead, towards a flower shop. In moments, however, he's back towards the vehicle with a very confused shopkeep who now has a couple bills on the countertop and a missing arrangement.
 
Flash appears next to Grodd again, and extends the flowers to him, shoving them right in front of Grodd's nose, "I got you something. Let's make up," he suggests in friendly tones to Grodd.


By the time Flash gets back, Grodd has kicked the windshield out of the truck and ripped the hood off clean, hammering the horn as he keeps going ahead, moving towards his planned getaway.
 
Voodoo has figured out she's not going to be able to land the way she had intended. She has to wait for an opening, and Flash's return offers that. As the gorilla inside roars in fury, Voodoo concentrates … and slams her own mind like a hot knife into that of Grodd, lancing forward a single command: "Brake now!"
 
The truck fishtails dangerously, overweight for its braking systems and not well controlled, since Voodoo herself has no idea what instructions to even give the gorilla to control a huge over-mass box truck full of illegal weapons over-braking hard.
 
"Get him out!" Voodoo shouts, hoping the scarlet speedster will listen instead of pulling Justice Defender rank on her unofficial and unsupported vigilante derriere. Meanwhile, she launches in front of the truck, hevels her blaster, and takes out both front tires explosively, then punches a couple of shots through the engine for good measure.


By the time Flash gets back, Grodd has kicked the windshield out of the truck and ripped the hood off clean, hammering the horn as he keeps going ahead, moving towards his planned getaway.
 
Voodoo has figured out she's not going to be able to land the way she had intended. She has to wait for an opening, and Flash's return offers that. As the gorilla inside roars in fury, Voodoo concentrates … and slams her own mind like a hot knife into that of Grodd, lancing forward a single command: "Brake now!"
 
The truck fishtails dangerously, overweight for its braking systems and not well controlled, since Voodoo herself has no idea what instructions to even give the gorilla to control a huge over-mass box truck full of illegal weapons over-braking hard.
 
"Get him out!" Voodoo shouts, hoping the scarlet speedster will listen instead of pulling Justice Defender rank on her unofficial and unsupported vigilante derriere. Meanwhile, she launches in front of the truck, hevels her blaster, and takes out both front tires explosively, then punches a couple of shots through the engine for good measure.
 
Here goes nothing?


As Grodd brakes, Flash takes a half a nanosecond to realize that Grodd has hit the breaks, and he hits his breaks, too. Only, he has faster reflexes than Grodd does, and the jarring stop gives him leave to zoom up into the passenger side, and with a, "Yoink," sound that goes with the actual action of doing so, Grodd is relieved of themetal helmet secured tightly to his head. Then, Flash tosses it just as casually outside the vehicle's windshield. "You dropped something," he tells Grodd, pointing to it. "I think you might want that back."
 
Neatly, Flash begins to edge away, attempting to 'bait' Grodd out with his antics. And, hell. It's not like Grodd has anywhere else to go, right?


"Damnit, get him out!" Voodoo shouts. But it's too late. There's no way for her to redirect that truck, and not even Flash can do that. Superwoman or someone, maybe, but they're not here.
 
The truck careens out of control and slams into vehicles parked along the side of the street, then runs down a lamp post. Only its sheer weight keeps the thing from flipping, but wow what a damned mess this is.
 
"You OK?!" Voodoo shouts through the sparks and starting flames. "Get out!"


It's okay to think Flash is crazy. Often, Superwoman, Captain America, and Batman are certain that is. And half the time, Flash doesn't even know what he's going to do until he's in that moment. And it go either way. This time? It goes off without a hitch. As Grodd leans in to grab for Flash, Flash enters the speedforce and utilizes Grodd's own momentum against him to backpeddle and pull him out of the truck just before it starts to careen and wind up on it's side, and then he spins.
 
And he spins.
 
And, he spins. A small dust devil erupts around him, but nothing dangerous, and then he's dropping a -very- dizzy Grodd onto the ground, and strikes a pose looking at Voodoo, "We make a great team," he ventures, smiling a winning, white-glowing toothy smile at her.
 
He doesn't seem to have quite noticed the damage, yet. Or maybe he has, and he's just ignoring it because he'd already registered there wasn't any innocent people around the area that the truck was going to crash into. Hard to say.


"Do me a favor, will you? Suck the air out around here long enough to put this out?" the purple-clad woman offers. She grouches at him a bit bitterly, and then lands her skycycle and stomps over to look at him. "You are nots, Flash." Sure, it worked out. But there had to be a better way.


Flash watches as the police catch up, and put the gorilla in restraints that even his strenght can't quite bust out of, especially after the tranquilizers they give him until they can get him to The Raft, or wherever it is they're taking him.
 
"Just a second," Flash says. And, of course, he means it literally. He comes back with an armload of takeout food, and offers Priscilla a drink from the carry-all carton, "Hope you like bacon cheeseburgers," he ventures with that same cheery smile. He tilts his head one way, thoughtfully. "So, do you have a name, or should I just call you Angel? Because you, clearly, came down from heaven." Yes, it's cheesy. But, he doesn't really seem to care.


Voodoo stands there agape as Flash just zooms off and returns with enough food to feed a small army. It's weird; the guy is clearly tuned in enough to be attracted to her, even to flirt shamelessly - and weakly - with her. But he seems incapable of actually listening to her. She's never experienced that one before.
 
Thankfully enough, the police call for fire department assistance, and the fires are put out before anything too terrible happens. But Voodoo considers that awfully lucky.
 
"Truth is, Flash, I don't tend to stick around for introductions." the woman in purple offers honestly. "The costume is more for distraction and hiding my identity than anything else. I'm no hero." Not true, but she has never considered herself heroic or special. It's just what she does. "But if you need a name, some call me Voodoo. And believe you me, I'm no angel. Never have been, never will be." Arguably she's a lot closer to the reverse, being part Daemonite.


Flash takes a rather healthy bite out of one of the twenty or so burgers he's keeping for himself, "Of course you're a hero," he says, at least remembering to talk -after- he's done chewing. At least, this time. "I mean, I didn't see anyone else besides -me- and -you- going out of our way to help out. I mean, the police," he says, thumbing, "Yeah, but we both know they're not equipped really to handle someone like Grodd. Damn talking monkeys."


The woman in purple just shrugs and shakes her head. "Telepathic talking gorillas. Yeah, that was a Hell of a thing." But she won't accept the moniker. "I wasn't involved to save lives." Not originally, at least. "I was hunting. Then the gorilla stole the shipment out from under the dirtbags I was following." She doesn't take credit for deciding to follow and try to stop said gorilla. Or trying to save lives. Not at all.


Wolfing down the rest of the first bacon-cheeseburger, Flash makes a face and then says bluntly, "Doesn't matter what you were doing, point is, you recognized the problem, and tried to help people. That's a hero." Then, as if he'd won the arguement (because in his head, he did) he grins widely, and offers his hand. "I'm The Flash, by the way. You've probably heard of me. Fastest Man Alive?"


Voodoo does not shake that hand covered in grease and crumbs. She just nods. "Yep. I've heard of you. Seen you on the news a few times by accident. You're with those big capes. The Justice Defender hoohahs, like Superwoman and stuff." Clearly not a big cape lover, despite arguably being one herself. But she most definitely does not wear an actual cape. "You sure you have time to slum it here, instead of running back to your cape friends?"


Flash, for his part, looks exceedingly disappointed when his hand isn't shaken and his features show it clearly. He sighs, and unwraps another burger, "Of course. Time to spare." He taps the side of his head, where his ear would be in the red half-mask he's wearing that covers everything but his clean-shaven jaw and mouth. "They'll let me know when they need me. Plus? It'll only take me a couple seconds to get there." He makes a 'woosh' sound, and then narfs another bite of burger, hungrily. Swallows.

He frowns again, "But, this isn't slumming it. This is where we -should- be. Helping people."


Voodoo shrugs. "I'm not into grease." she offers in explanation to Flash. Hence not taking the burger, or his hand. It's not because she dislikes him. Hell, he's even amusing. But she knows where girls like her belong, and never lets herself forget it. "There are other places where heroes could be. But they never are. That's why I'm not a hero." Because she lives in those places, and does whatever she can to help those the heroes tend to forget. Or actively ignore.


Flash frowns again, "Hey, we can't be -everywhere-," he says, for some inexplicable reason on the defense. His voice gets quieter, "We try, though." He gulps down another burger, licks his fingers off quickly, not quite 'eating his feelings'. He shrugs as Voodoo doesn't take hers, and opens the bag to start munching on the third.

"Well," says Flash, trying to get his spirits back up, "You're one in my book." He winks at her.


Voodoo shakes her head. "No. You all can't be everywhere." she admits. There's no ire in her tone. Just a tired acceptance of fact. "That's why some folks have to put away dreams of being heroes, and stay in the places where you all can't go, doing the things you can't." She shrugs her shoulders. "I can't save the world from some alien death machine. You people can. So we do what we do." She tilts her head, looking at Flash. "Book? What book? Seriously, you keep some little black book? Really?"


Flash pats himself down, "No pockets," he says, with a wide grin. He shakes his head, "No, I meant I consider you a hero. Not a lot of people, even those with flying motorcycles, would've taken on Grodd. Speaking of."

And suddenly, Flash is next to the self-same skybike, then he's on the other side, then he's in front of it. "Where'd you get it? This thing is pretty killer."


"I stole it." Voodoo offers, with bald, painful honesty. Legally true, she really did take it without permission from her past employer when she left the team. "It is pretty damned handy." she admits. "And best of all, it recharges on its own, so I don't have to come up with whatever crazy crap it runs off of. And since I can't fly like Superwoman, or teleport like that magicky chick with the white hair, or blur through red lightning, I need whatever help I can get when I can get it."


Flash's eyes go up, "Stole it, huh?" He frowns, squinting then, and looking at Voodoo, unable to tell if she's kidding, or serious. "You don't seem like the steal it and admit it type," he says, as if he were a professional at telling people's archeytypes at a glance.

He taps on it lightly with his knuckles, "Stole it from aliens?"


Voodoo smirks. "Well, as a matter of fact, yes. They were aliens." Then again, so is Voodoo. But she's betting Flash won't guess that, either. "They were also my former employers, after a fashion. My former team, I guess you could say. Aliens who were alien hunters." She shrugs. "They found me. They trained me. Then they found out more about me, and that made them all squirmy. So I left, went out on my own. Stayed that way." Does her voice manage to hide the pain of that rejection?


Flash looks a little uncomfortable, "Uh," he says, intelligently, "Wow. That's pretty heavy." His brows furrow, the hood lines showing just a little with a crinkle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I never run away from danger. I run twoards it. Very, very fast." Flash grins again, hoping his words, and his smile, are infectious.


Voodoo just shakes her head. "Make me feel better? I suppose, on some level. As long as you don't mind the other part of me thinks you're insane." She doesn't call him stupid, but seriously: running towards danger? All the time? "So. Stupid question. Do you flirt with all the women you meet? Or is it just me? I promise you, I'm not handing out my number, Flash." That probably was a bit mean. But she's at least trying to be honest. And maybe she finds the fact he finds the truth of her story uncomfortable to be rather uncomfortable herself.


Flash puts on an offended front, "Hey, hey, hey," he says, holdng up his hands. "I didn't even -ask- for your phone number," he grouses. Simply because he hadn't gotten up to it yet but was going to do it doesn't, afterall, mean he -did-. "And for the record, it's not a crime to be nice to very, very beautiful women," he says, regaining his confidence once again. He flashes that 'winning smile' of his towards Voodoo, "Besides. I'm not as crazy as people think I am. By people, I mean, the other Justice Defenders." His grin widens, and he shrugs. "They're all just a bit too gloomy, sometimes, you know? They need to lighten up a bit."


The woman in purple just shakes her head, a wry twist to her lips. "Flash? I'm a mixed up alien hybrid who hunts aliens. I don't exactly do 'light'." Then again, she definitely has a sense of humor, and it's not like she just jumped on her bike and flew away. "I'm not quite as crazy as other people think I am, either." And some people think she is completely certifiable. Heard her rants about aliens manipulating the government and world history yet? Or the origin of demon legends? "But you're a Justice Defender. You probably shouldn't be hanging around with an unrepentant vigilante like me. Bad for your rep."


Flash wolfs down another burger, wipes his gloved hands off, and then tilts his head, winks as he 'shoots' Voodoo with his finger-gun, and tells her warmly, "Ooooooor maybe I'm -good- for your rep," he counters, too confident in himself to be so easily swayed, or shoved aside that easily.


Voodoo just shakes her head again. "You're definitely a nut." she offers. But she isn't mad, or offended. Just stating a fact as she sees it. "I don't play by the rules, Flash. I don't, and I won't. I can't." But she still grins. He's fun, for being a nut. "OK. You've got the cops and such. I need to get out of here, before someone thinks enough to ask questions I can't answer."


Wally flashes another grin, "You could, and you should," he rhymes back, rather cheerfully. But he waggles his fingers, "Don't be a stranger, Voodoo." He picks up the rest of his burgers, glances over to the cops, and starts to wander over, shouting with his mouth full, "Wan' me to re'urn ah 'unz?"


Given the all-clear and a distraction for the cops, Voodoo jogs over to her skycycle, hops astride it, kicks the stand and revs the engine as she dives up into the sky and does her best to disappear.

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