As usual, it was a rather busy day within the city of New York. Sirens in the far distance could be heard blaring down the streets. Cars honking at one another due to traffic issues resulting from road obstructions of different types. People shouting obscenities. New reports of bank robberies. Muggings. Murder. Caped crusaders duking it out on the rooftops with megalomaniacs for the fate of the innocents. Typical New Yorker issues which were a common enough occurrence that, for better or worse, many people were used to hearing about or experiencing first hand.<br/><br/>"Oww." Came the slightly exaggerated groan of Marcus Keegan (http://www.quotesby.co.uk/celeb_images/full/D/david_boreanaz_9.jpg), perhaps better known by the criminal identity of Killercide (http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs11/i/2006/234/a/3/Paragon_of_Vice_by_RazorsEdge701.jpg), as the plain clothed male made his way down the hallway of the apartment building he called home. "Stupid police vans." The man grumbled under his breath, lightly rotating one arm to work out the kinks as the other held a rather large and heavy duffle bag within its grip, "Always come close to throwing my back out with those damn things."<br/><br/>Lugging along the large duffle bag at his side, Marcus made his way back to his apartment, where he was quick to enter and slam the door shut behind him. "Be it ever so humble..." He muttered before tossing said duffle bag onto the nearby couch in order to relieve himself of the weight. The loud thud caused by the bag colliding onto the soft cushions had given an indication of how deceptively heavy the contents of the piece of luggage actually was; while the late thirties male was quick to discard it for now and head toward the fridge to grab a beer. His apartment was fairly basic for a bachelor like himself. Not a total mess, but also not terribly tidy, with a few adult girly magazines poking out the partially opened drawer of the dresser next to his unmade bed. There were also a few dumbbells laying about, with each of them weighing a deceptively large amount considering their size. Such uniquely built weights were a necessity for his workout practice when considering how much Marcus could lift over the average person whom might attend the local gyms.<br/><br/>Starting to lounge a bit around the apartment as he downed the beverage, then turning the television on perhaps a little too loud, Marcus began to unwind after the earlier bank job when his 'business' phone started to ring. With a groan, the male moved to pick up the receiver, speaking into it with a rather blunt, if partially annoyed tone, "Yeah?" This tone soon changed, however, as he heard the familiar voices on the other end whom were quick to talk up his earlier clash with celebrity status, "Hah! Seen me on the news, huh? Yeah, they tried to keep me pinned down behind a hail of gunfire. Might have worked, too, if they hadn't left a perfectly good van there to use as a bullet shield while charging forward."<br/><br/>The phone was one of several which were handed out amongst certain supervillains for maintaining contact with another. They had a service plan which worked outside of the system, thanks to certain 'connections' in higher places. It allowed them to call another while minimizing the risk of a breach to their secret identities to outsiders; even if many of their crew had either been unmasked during past defeats or had special physical abilities or traits which kept them from being able to pass for normal people. Marcus was one of those whom had thus far managed to keep from having his secret identity discovered by the populace.<br/><br/>"No, no, I can make it for the poker game tonight. I sure as hell have enough fresh cash burning a hole in my pocket." He responded with a quick laugh; glancing toward the earlier discarded duffle bag before finishing, "Right. I'll meet up at the usual place. I'll see you guys there."<br/><br/>Hanging up, Marcus went over toward the duffle bag, then unzipped it to reveal a skull mask staring up at him. Around it where pieces of his usual uniform, which the career villain had slipped out of while managing to evade the police prior to slipping into his current garb of jeans and a dark blue shirt. Underneath this villainous attire, however, was easily over a thousand dollars worth of rolled bills from the twenty to hundred dollar margin. "Ah, this should be enough to entertain me for a couple of hours." The villain remarked after taking out a couple hundred dollars, which was then placed into his side pocket before starting to make his way out of the apartment.<br/><br/>Frankly, while the man may have been tired from the earlier run under his alter ego, he was grateful for almost any excuse for getting out of the apartment again. It hadn't exactly been the most pleasing of experiences for the guy (a sentiment which some living nearby might say was mutual), due in no small part to certain neighbors whom tended to get on his nerves for what Marcus would deem as silly reasons. Silly reasons such as leaving the television or radio on too loud, which happened to be the current case, with the blaring loud TV set which was left on in his apartment even after its owner had departed on his way for the previously mentioned poker game.