Ghosts in the Middle East (open)

~~~~*static and airwaves leading into a news broadcast in Arabic* In other news, reports of a ghost have begun to spring up throughout parts of the middle east. No official word on who or what is behind the mysterious sightings, though it appears the ghost shows up in areas of conflict and suddenly the conflicts are over and no sign of the mysterious figure is left behind.~~~~~

The broadcast trailed off into its next story as a hooded figure sat in a shabby looking bar, slowly working on the mug of beer in front of him. A loud gasp of air came from his direction as he downed what was a little over half the mug before flagging the bartender for another. The bartender shot the man a concerned look before turning to the seven empty mugs next to the hooded man. Reluctantly the bartender poured the stranger another mug of beer and went back to cleaning the empty mugs the stranger was leaving in his wake.

Jack reached out for the mug and positioned it in front of him, before reaching into an inner coat pocket and removing a pack of smokes. He opened the pack and stared at the one remaining cigarette in despair. Before Jack could even think of reaching for the smoke, the bartender shouted at him in Arabic to go outside if he was going to smoke. With a sigh and a wave of his hand Jack acknowledged the bartender and placed what he owed on the bar before walking out of the building.

Once outside, Jack lit up his last smoke and took a long drag from it. His gaze drifted up to the sky, as he counted how long it had been since he took down Cyrus and disappeared off the US government’s radar. He gave a slight chuckle, it had been way to long, and instead of laying low like he should have been doing, he was roaming between areas of dispute and putting the conflicts to end before they could really get out of hand. The locals had even taken to calling him a ghost as he would appear and disappear before anyone even realized he was there.

Jack took another drag from his cigarette before catching some sort of commotion out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but he figured he’d investigate anyway. With a sigh, he let his smoke hit the ground before putting it out by grinding it into the ground beneath his boot. Jack cautiously drew one of his desert eagles from its holster and slowly approached the direction the ruckus was coming from. As Jack peered around the corner, he noticed several masked individuals unloading a large military class truck.

If Jack didn’t know what weapons crates looked like, he might have walked away from this one, but he knew better and slowly approached the men. Jack stepped out from behind his cover, gun drawn on the masked men as he shouted to them in Arabic “A little late to be making a delivery isn’t it fellas?” The men turned to Jack startled and caught off guard, not knowing wanting to open fire on him, otherwise they’d give away their little secret.

*Crrasshhh* "How long has it been since I have driven a damn car"... He thought to himself as he exited the vehicle. Coronel had visited the middle east and everything seemed usual and predictable. He was making a stereotype in his head of what the place would look like and how it looked. He looked around and saw a well sized city he was nearing to, but behind him was all sand. And for the love of everything was it too abundant.

It had been a while since he had been to Africa,but it had also been an even longer time since he had the thought to drive. Diving the car was a failure, and hopefully the man he was looking for would not fail too. Looking onto the present he looked around at the car he was driving and it appeared he had ran into a quick sand trap. The quick impact with the sand was like smashing a concrete wall. It blew shrapnel through the car but he ended up getting run through by a long rod and a couple pieces of hot steel. The small pieces dropped out and he forcefully ripped the rod out.

Everything was a drag... It seemed like he was getting somewhere faster with driving, but no. Then he ruined his clothes with the accident. He only hoped for no other surprises. With his wounds healed he levitated off the ground a burst off towards the city. Flying was easier and far more fun then a car. As he shook his head he landed behind a building and caught his ground.

He looked around and no one seen. Lucky for him, but he was growing quite thirsty. He peered into a restaurant and remembered why he hated the middle east. Prices for everything was crazy, but yet the black market was cheep. He smiled and turned towards a bar. "Perfect a drink." He ran the thought through his head as he seen a man come out smoking a cigarette. Paying no attention he walked the guys general direction with a smirk on his face until he threw down the butt. Done that fast? No... He caught glimpse of the man running to the corner with a drawn fire arm.

Now the urge to watch was crazy, and he no longer needed any liquid. He was hyped up to see what would happen. Running to the side perfectly in the way of cross fire the man let out his voice startling the armed civilians in a military grade truck... Smugglers? Yes; it would appear so and any second he figured they would shoot at the man. He smiled and thought just how screwed this guy was and watched in anticipation.

Better yet he would help. He will stop the first 50 bullets to give him a fighting chnace....

-----------Roughly one hour earlier-----

The sleep private jet landed on the tarmack with a slight screech as the wheels hit the ground. It was obvious that a high roller was in town, and quite a few people knew that it was a prominent buisnessman who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent. However, they did not know that the plane carried a second passenger. One whos presence might come as something as a surprise. None of them had heard of Baxter Boulliard, an archeologist slash museum curator. However, not even Baxters mother would recognize him right now. Not because he was wearing a mask, but because the persona he had adopted was oh-so-very different from the Baxter she knew.

Currently he was feeling the rythm inside of hte plane. Buisnessmen, executives and flight-attendants busted their moves upon the dancefloor, the joy of the dance having them in its merciless clutches. No matter how old, rich and fat, or young and gorgeous they were, everyone was equal now. Disco was the god and Doctor Disco was it's funky spokesperson, delivering good vibes to any and all!

. . .However, all good things must come to an end. He had initially gotten on the plane to keep away from a rather vicious hero who wanted to take him for. . . well whatever it was, Disco decided that prison was definately going to cramp his style. And thus he ran like a coward and jumped a plane on the way to anywhere. . .

As the plane landed, he turned to the dancers, and struck a pose! "Now This is how ya boogie down!" He started off, a big grin playing on his face, as he took off his sunglasses, revealing his neon-green glowing eyes "But as we go off this plane, you will forget our meeting"

This allowed him to get off the plane in relative anonymity. People just assumed he was part of the entourage surrounding the buisnessman in question. He then proceeded to use disco-hypnotism to stay as much undercover as he could. . . Well, as much undercover as a man in a silver jumpsuit, purple, atiger-printed pimpcoat and an afro-haircut of epic proportions could.

------------------------------------------Now --------------------------------


That was then and this was now. Disco had scoured the streets for somewhere to cool down for half an hour after getting out of the airport, and even though there were plenty of english-speakers here, none of them were too keen on speaking to our moonwalking afro-haired hero, so he used his disco-powers to hypnotized them into doing so. However, the fellows had no idea where to find a decent hotel, so the abuse of his powers were for nothing. That is why he noticed Jack slinking down an alleyway. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and everything about him screamed "foreigner". Not "tourist" however, and thus disco figured that he might be the sort to know where an newly arrived american would get a few days sleep.

However, all thoughts of rest dissapeared as he entered the alley, noticing a pair of shady-looking individuals looking in disbelief at the tourist-guy. Definately a good start from what he could figure. Then he noticed the assault-rifles in their hands. A sign even worse from what he had earlier expected.

"Hey cats an' kitties, Put those away before ya hurt yaself, ai'ght? " The dancing man announced, his deep voice oozing charm and sex-appeal. His outlandish outfit probably was what prevented them from shooting him outright and instead stop to giggle and exchanbe a few words in arabic. The doctor then snapped his fingers, and suddenly Disco-music blared from invisible, ethereal speakers, and strobe-lights started shooting rays of multicoloured lights all over the alley-way.

"Alright, baby. Bust out a groove and let's get fabulous!" he stated, and despite the outlandishness of the sentence, it was clear they were fighting-words

Various scenarios ran through Jack’s mind as he had his stare down with the two masked men. He considered using a quick burst of speed to close the distance between them and then neutralize them with cqc. It was the one scenario that made any sense and didn’t result in having a gun battle in the street. Just as Jack was about to make his move, he herd the shifting of dirt and gravel beneath someone’s feet, it was coming from behind him. At first Jack thought it might have been one of the extremists trying to sneak up behind him, however this notion was cast aside when he heard the individual behind him speak in English.

Jack turned to see a man that look straight out of a 70’s disco music video, to make things even more strange is he could have sworn he heard disco music playing *Are…Are those strobe lights?* he thought to himself, almost completely forgetting about the situation at hand. He was about to rush over to the man, thinking that the masked men would open fire on him, but instead, Jack noticed the men had busted out into dance.  It had to be something that this odd looking man was doing. *He must be a metahuman* Jack thought, before hearing what sounded like more extremists in the building shouting to their comrades, it seemed they heard the music to.

Several men appeared in the street from inside the building, they to succumbing to the heat of the moment and getting caught up in the funky grooves. Jack wasn’t entirely sure how he should proceed now, did he just leave them like that? With a small sigh Jack decided the best course of action, he would go with his original plan, and then deal with the metahuman afterwards. With a forceful lunge Jack closed the gap between him and the extremists in the blink of an eye. Jack moved in and disarmed and knocked out the men in as little time as it took him to reach them, it was quite the sight to behold, the way he rhythmically and methodically took down the small group of people.

It was easy and they needed no help. He couldn't place it either but the disco man seemed too familiar, but where?

He veered off topic and got back the the armed militia. Plus one more guy had joined them, too. he was trying to sneak around, but Coronel's detection abilities are a little to high to be thrown off track by a kid wearing armor. He kept the new person in the dark and decided to send out a reading film. It was just him pressing down a ounce or two of a thin layer with his telekinesis and mapping out the area and all who were in it.

A few seconds went by and then he snapped back.... "Well I got it now everyone, Come Here!" his thoughts were vigorous as he swept his hands in the air knocking out the remaining guards the he threw one hand up lifting all the unconscious bodies into the air. After a few more minutes everyone was piling out windows and open doors stacking up outside in the street.

Well I did my part in this game of help thy neighbor. My name is Coronel what are your names, friends? He embraced a smile showing his happy side off to the two. He would also tell them about the new guy in the warehouse and if they had a problem with him looking through all the crates.

He didn't wait for them to respond he just simply walked over. they could respond to the question as he moved closer.

The two attackers quickly leapt int action, on on either side of disco, dancing alluringly as the master of magical moves got his groove on. Disco-style lights started to shine from nearby cars and objects, illuminating the street in a sea of wondrous colours, and the beat of the progressively louder disco-music could be  felt through the asphalt on the ground as well as in the very walls. It was so strong that small pieces of gravel jumped slightly to the beat as the vibrations travelled through the ground.
That was when the others rushed out, only to immediately catch the disco fever!

"Y'all caught the DISCO FEEEEVAAAAAH!!" The Doctor vividly announced, his voice powerfull, and even though he did not wear one, it sounded as he was talking into a microphone hooked into a majorly impressive sound-system. He punched one fist into the air flamboyantly and started bobbing his head to the beat"But dun' have no fear, squares, for Doctor Disco is in, an' he's got a prescription for you! Dancing! Let's dance the night way!"

Oh yeah! Thrust, step back, high-kick, spin and moonwalk. . .  Disco was on a roll, his two-back-up dancers managed to look both alluring and comical, as the moves they busted were more associated to the femal arts of seduction. However, the newcommers simply  gathered in a group and started dancing along to the music, overjoyed and trance-like expressions on their face, the music could probably be heard very long away in the mostly quiet city. Even the other supers would feel the almost irresistable urge to dance, and the longer disco went on, the harder the dancing-itch would be not to scratch. . .

That was when the other fellow rushed at the new group of guys and took them down in a brutal yet almost elegant fashion. It was clear that this was a fellow who knew how to fight. Unfortunately, he used those skills against his  not-so-loyal, recently aquired brothers in dance, knocking them all to the ground. Disco was just about react to this, when some uncen force gripped his two back-up dancers and literally squeezed the air out of them untill they where either unconscious or dead, no doubt suffering from any number of broken bones and whatnot. Disco barely had time to wonder what happened to the fellows before some other chap strutted out from the shadows with a huge grin on his face.

"Aw, man. That's a totally unheavy way to take out a brothers possie, you squares. Not cool." the deep, honey-sweet voice purred, only the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice.
He then stopped his dancing, snapped his fingers at pointed at Jack "Though I gotta admit that you have some seriously groovalicious moves there, baby. Turn them from the path of  facebreaking to the path of funk, and The doctor predicts you'll go far, man!" He grinned at Jack, shooting the man a big, smile as disco once again started bobbing in beat with the music. Then he spun and turned to Coronel, snapping his fingers and pointing at him.

"But you? Sorry baby, but you just ain't cool, Y'got feet of clay, no groove, no style, no nuthin'. Ye'r just a flat tire, I mean a cube, man! You're putting us on all on the train to squaresville!" He then started to moon-walk on the spot whilst awaiting how the others would deal with his totally tubular advice.

No sooner did Jack drop the small group of people, he found two more bodies added to the pile, only this time it wasn’t his doing, but rather that of a third party. Honestly for such a small street things were getting awfully crowded, just how the hell did he manage to find himself in such a predicament? Jack looked up to the man on the roof, who seemed to have no problem with just blurting his name out to otter strangers. Jack on the other hand, lived a life of secrecy, especially when he was trying to remain hidden from the farseeing eyes of the US government.

He flashed a look at the two strangers only bothering to mutter the words “John”. Jack turned his attention to the group of men that lay unconscious at his feet, checking each of their pulses to make sure he hadn’t killed them, just in case he needed to question them later. Jack made his way to the front door of the house before turning to the two strangers “Why don’t you make yourselves useful and load these crates back on the truck!” he said with a slight commanding tone, completely disregarding what the Disco King had to say to him. Right now his mind was focused solely on seeing what the masked men were smuggling, and just what was going on in the house.

The very instant he opened the door, the powerful stench of rotting flesh hit his nose, causing his eyes to water. "That must be what the masks were for." He mumbled to himself before pressing on, despite the awful stench, his boots sticking to the floor with each step he took, prompting him to look down and see puddles of blood peppering the floor. *Just what the hell is going on here?* he thought as he pressed deeper into the building, unaware if he was being followed by either of the strange men outside, or something or someone else entirely.

As Coronel peaked interest in the mans tone he decided to press on. The guy was clearly blank in the head at the time since his ability just dropped by half. "If that keeps up I could kill him by blowing at him," but Coronel would not do something so childish just yet. As he looked over the enemies he seen no fun in the matter.

He held out one hand and every box was being held in the air, upon the seconds they were asked to load everything. It was light weight material and was easy to move around without having to focus at all. Probably a couple tons of guns and other variety of military grade equipment. By the timing of another couple seconds his mind raced and found a solution to stacking crates so they all would fit.

As he turned towards the warehouse, he would walk in seeing all the blood on the floor. It seemed dark and was hard to tell anything apart. As he could tell there were many dead bodies in the warehouse and blood on the floor; since everywhere he walked it squished under his feet.

He did a scan seeing everyone outside and then finding a breaker box. Just a little concentration... a..n..d boom power on. It was wonders what he could actually do with his abilities. The lights would begin to heat up and then spring to a blinding flash lighting the room up with light. As he predicted it was a mess....