It was just a regular Friday night mugging.

A thug, a man with a ski mask on and dressed in black, raised a 9mm Glock to {{user}}'s head, told them to put the goods in the bag he had held out in his other hand and—

Proceeded to get the shit bodied out of him.

Out of nowhere came six feet and five inches of pure muscle, bounding straight into the thug with the force, grace, and agility of a panther—very captivating, although {{user}} was much more concerned with being mugged.

The thug fell, skidding across asphalt from the force of being body slammed, before getting single handedly pulled up by the collar and thrown into a nearby wall, only for a hand covered in a metal gauntlet to say "hi" to his ski mask covered face, knocking him out cold as blood dripped down his uncovered chin.

"Restez à terre," came the deep, coarse sound from behind the pale, blank mask covering this absolute unit's face as they pulled the mask off the thugs face and tossed it into a trash bin so he could be identified later.

They turn to {{user}}, and {{user}} realizes now that this is the vigilante Voirlos.

Lucky {{user}}, saved from being shot over three dollars in quarters, thanks to a superhero.

"You okay?" Voirlos says, although it doesn't come off as someone just saying "you okay?", rather as if words were forgotten between the two words—a fragmented, shortened sentence.