EXT. FANEUIL HALL - NIGHT
A DANCE GROUP plays their MUSIC, trying to hype up the CROWD gathered near the statue of Samuel Adams. Shay, bundled up like it’s late-Novemeber/early-December instead of late-October, walks past them on the other side of the statue, walking along the Freedom Trail onto S Market Street. He sips on his hot apple cider from the nearest Dunkin' Donuts, passing by shops and other pedestrians, overhearing conversations. One group's, two women and a man, conversation piques his interest. Shay sits down on one of the little benches, setting his half finished cider to the side so he can pull out his lighter and a cigarette. As he lights up and puts his lighter away, his ear is on the group.
Did you read the Daily Power this morning?
No, I never read that nonsense. It's full of crackpot conspiracy theories. Wasn't it last week that they mentioned something about that anti-supers group plotting to take over Fenway?
Yes, but this time they have a reliable source!
Uh-huh. Reliable like a twelve-year old submitting a 'tip' written in purple ink on the back of a math worksheet.
Or reliable like that homeless couple who the very next day were on the front page for stabbing someone right outside Park Street?
Shay idly picks up his cider and alternates between drinking and smoking.
The have a direct quote from the General!
The woman's companions roll their eyes and make mocking sounds of excitement.
WOMAN #1 (CONT'D)
Fine then. Just be warned about how I'll tell you both I told you so when the General makes an announcement about how the Court has a plan to eradicate all the supervillains in the world.
Shay finishes his drink and stands up, tossing the styrofoam cup in the trash bin as he continues on his way, smoke spilling from his lips, brows furrowed in thought. He stuffs his free hand into his coat pocket as the wind picks up and emphasizes the chilly late-October weather.
I'll have to remember to look into that later. The Daily Power, though full of imaginative nuts, sometimes aren't too far off the mark.
A particularly strong gust of wind WHIPS past, making Shay grimace. He leaves the cigarette between his lips, breathing out smoke from around the stick as he rubs his gloved hands together in a vain attempt at warming them up.
Fucking hate the cold. I need new gloves. I could all toasty warm in my apartment, with coffee and fake Chinese food, but nooooo. Gotta get a new suit jacket and some stupid cuff links because I quite like my manhood and while I like certain things up my ass, tasers that I modified, are not one of them. Fucking bitch.
The people around Shay give him a bit of a wide berth as he grumbles to himself down the street.
Mommy, Daddy, that man’s taking to himself!
Just ignore him, dear.
Do you want hot chocolate?
Shay makes his way towards where the Faneuil Hall Christmas tree was going to be set up in the next few weeks as soon as Halloween ends. He turns down the one street that is always empty and best steered clear of if alone. He hears SCUFFLING in the near distance, coming from an alley, barely discernible in the general city CACOPHONY. Shay walks towards it. MUFFLED grunts of pain echo after a SLAM.
Shay’s eyes widen briefly in surprise before he raises one brow in amusement.
Now where have I heard that voice before? Maybe my coffee and fake Chinese was an acceptable sacrifice.
HARD CUT TO:
EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)
Issac hisses as he’s pressed face-first against the grimy alley wall. The MUGGER, dressed in typical black garb from head to toe, presses the tip of his knife to Issac’s lower back, not piercing but threatening.
Cough it up!
Even if I was going to, I couldn’t with you right on top of me with that knife, you fucking idiot. If you’re so hard up, go find a prostitute.
The mugger splutters and grabs the back of Issac’s head, smashing his face into the wall with a hard THUD. Blood drips down from Issac’s nose, some smeared on the wall. Shay’s shadowed figure creeps up behind them, keeping to the darkened shadows. He drops his cigarette to the floor.
Watch your damn mouth—
Piss off and let me go!
Neither notice Shay come up just a few feet behind the mugger.
That ain’t how a mugging works. Although I may just take ya up on that other offer.
The man nudges his hips suggestively against Issac. Frost gathers at Issac’s palms that are trapped between his chest and the wall. Flakes of ice fall to the floor at his feet, unnoticed.
ANGLE ON - SHAY OVER THE MUGGER’S SHOULDER
Shay reaches down into his boot and pulls out a small dagger. He steps up right behind the mugger and presses the tip into the side of the other man’s neck, just barely breaking skin. A drop of blood trickles down the man’s skin.
Nice and easy, drop the knife.
Drop. The knife. Or I’ll have a little fun with my own.
Shay presses the tip of the blade deeper into the mugger’s neck. The mugger immediately drops the knife with a muted CLANG on the floor. The frost at Issac’s hands dissipates.
What the hell is going on?
Shay flips his dagger around and slams the end of the handle against the mugger’s head. The mugger curses and Shay grasps the mugger’s head, slamming it forward into the wall next to Issac’s face. The mugger crumples to the ground.
What the fucking shit!
Issac tries to turn around, but Shay grips the back of Issac’s head, keeping it facing forward as he aligns his front to Issac’s back and keeps his knife against the side of Issac’s face, restraining any movement from the younger man. Shay kicks the unconscious body of the mugger out of the way.
CLOSE ON - SHAY’S FACE
Shay tilts his head down to Issac’s ear. His lips form a wicked smirk.
Who’d have thought that a measly human mugger could get the best of a super?
W-wh-what? The fuck you on about? And let me go, you fucking cumbucket chicken nugget.
Is that how you speak to the person who saved you? Huh... Flurry?
END PILOT EPISODE