1: Post in alphabetical order, please! It helps me keep track of who is where and who we're waiting on.
2: I don't mind if you multitask! Just post in a timely manner. I'm anticipating about ten minutes per post, give or take a few minutes.
3: If I don't answer in chat, ask me in AIM. I respond well to AIM!
4: Get Out of Dead Free: Everybody gets one. One. Per character. If I accidentally kill you, or you die horribly, or you really Just Don't Want To Die, play your get out of dead free card. Once it's gone, though, it's gone. If you die in another one shot, you stay dead.
5: Have fun! Post forthcoming!
[Unfortunate events] Make sure he goes down in the second round, was the only thing he heard. It wasn't directed toward him, of course.
Of course, Alexander fucking Vaughan didn't go down in the second round. He didn't go down at all. He beat the shit out of that bantam weight pussy who had a right cross like his grandmother, and he won. Of course he won. He won because he was good at what he did, because he practiced, or maybe because he was just better than this shmuck someone had put him in the ring with.
Saturday night, he could have sworn he heard something whispered. Saw someone glaring. Cost someone money
Saturday night, he could have sworn he heard someone say Jesus fucking christ, I think he broke that guy's sternum.
Saturday night might have been a good night.
---
I don't care, just make it happen, was what Liadan Whelan didn't hear the men say in the distance. She had been doing her job. Doing something that she presumably enjoyed. Doing something she was very, very good at. taking pictures, that is. She was taking shots of the city.
Something artistic. Some upward, blurred shot of traffic or some building. People pretend to understand artistic intentions. For all the men in the car knew, Liadan was taking pictures of them. For all they knew, she was taking pictures of that model across the street, with her hair blowing in the breeze, who looked delightfully lost. Whose eyes were amber but her skin was dark, and her hair was darker. She had the kind of contrast that National Geographic photo and possibly the loveliest legs a woman could have. So very, very long, and making those over-priced heels look fabulous.
The men ruined Liadan's shot by pulling out. By then, she'd taken three quick photos in succession. By freak accident, she didn't delete them.
That was a problem, see.
----
What Danicka Musil was probably sick of was guys staring at her tits. Or maybe they were staring at her boyfriend, at the fact that he set them on-edge. She probably didn't care. or maybe she did, who knew.
For a brief moment some guy had talked to her outside fo the ladies room. Who does that? Talks to people in the ladies room when they've been powdering their nose or powdering their nose in a different way, or fixing their hair, or god forbid using the ladies room. Who does that?
Some idiot nursing a few broken ribs. Who made eye contact too long, who had a black eye coming in from the evening he said [Yeah, I work out, he said. MMA fighting. You know. He tried to sound tough, but obviously he wasn't any good at it or else he wouldn't be nursing what sounded like broken ribs]
He asks for her number, which she conveniently can't hear him do because she's leaving him by the ladies room. And goes on to finish enjoying her night. She doesn't think anything of it, or maybe she does. He leaves the club shortly thereafter, with more than his ribs injured.
---
Tonight is Thursday night.
By virtue of being Thursday, it sucks. The music on the radio sucks. The bartenders are hungover, and they suck. There are a complete lack of women in short enough skirts. Nothing is on sale at Barnes and Noble. Overall, there is nothing that goes right with Thursdays. It's worse than Monday. Finals were coming up. Reaching ever that much closer. Professors were worrying about their performance reviews.
All of this stuff doesn't matter, though, because across from a particular gym there is a halfway decent sandwich place with good food and bad security. Bad access control. The surveillance camera is all for show Caramelized onions. Fifty cent wings on Tuesdays. The cashier hates his job.
He's worked here for seven years, and has had to deal with seven years of guys like Alexander fucking Vaughan and worse. He's had fights break out over pickles. Pickles. Of course, not Alexander Vaughan. For some reason, the sandwich man kind of liked him.
Scrappy little shit won him twenty bucks last Saturday. Life was decent.
It was Thursday.
[Alexander] Saturday night was a damn good night.
Saturday night was all hot lights in a eight-sided chainlink cage, the roar of an riled-up crowd, the smack of lightly padded gloves on hard flesh, the spatter of sweat after a hit and the spatter of blood after a really good hit.
There are rules in MMA now, of course. There are steps being taken to make the whole thing more of a sport and less of a bloodsport. Less of a brawl. Less of a gladiator show where there was no such thing as throwing in the towel and 'timidity' was officially against the rules. There's still no unified governing body, though, and though more and more fights are being held in rings, Alexander always looks for the cagefights, always looks for the amateur matchups where managers didn't get in the way of fighters' egos, didn't protect fighters from taking on more than they could handle.
And then: Saturday nights are damn good nights.
The arena wasn't big. Maybe a few hundred unruly spectators packed in tight, yelling for violence. Bets and sidebets. Alexander's not a heavyweight, not the headlining fight, but he's a brutal close-range fighter, the type to clinch and pummel, the type to ground and pound. He gets popular with a bloodseeking crowd. He feeds off the energy; he's tireless and increasingly dominant; he's a showy, cocky bastard that frankly wins more by viciousness and talent than by tactic and skill.
Someone gets pissed off, watching that shit. And someone gets even more pissed off because he doesn't go down in round 2 like he's supposed to. Someone gets really fucking pissed because even without a mic pointed at his mouth half the arena could hear Alexander fucking Vaughn laughing after breaking some poor douchebag's ribs, or sternum, or face. All the arena could see him climbing the walls of the cage, screaming bloody victory out at a roaring crowd.
And THAT'S how it's going down! Yeah! Yeah! You like that? You like that?
Someone does not like that.
Now it's Thursday. And what little Changing blood he has means he always heals faster than the other guy, which means he was back jumping rope and doing laps on Sunday, back to his regular regimen by Monday. By Thursday he's fighting fit, waiting for Saturday, and he's freshly showered and ready to head home where he has no food, so he stops by the sandwich joint where the sandwich man kind of likes him and gives him free pickles.
And there he is, parked on top of a stool at the bar running the length of the window out to Grant Park. It's nice and warm in Chicago today, and Alexander's street clothes aren't much different from his workout gear: white cargo shorts, a red muscle tee with bigass arm holes to show off as much of his obsessively toned body as possible. He has ipod headphones in his ears, and bobs his head as he chows down on a big BLT.
[Liadan] Líadan walks across the way from Tribull to the sandwich shop. It's Thursday, and Thursday is one of her kickboxing days. She worked hard today, pushed herself to make up for missing class Monday night for work. The fashion photographer hates when work gets in the way of this commitment, this thing she does for herself. It's evening, and after her class let out she left her gear at the gym and jogged through the park. Not far, just enough to get her heart racing and to feel alive, feel free.
Now, she's showered. She's dressed in khaki capris and a t-shirt, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. There are those old and beat up Chucks, black and white and faded. Her damp hair is pulled to the nape of her neck. It'll dry funny that way, but she doesn't care. The only place she's going after this is her apartment, to look over photos or play Guitar Hero by herself.
Checking messages on her phone, she pushes open the door to the sandwich shop and heads for the counter.
[Danicka] Miss Musil does not remember the man on Saturday who wanted her number. She didn't ignore him; gave him a fake number and a smile and all the rest, slipped away while he was getting them a couple of drinks. It is not a rare occurrence. She gave it no weight.
Miss Musil does not train at Tribull. Her gym is more upscale, focused on fitness and sculpting rather than mixed martial arts. There's yoga classes and pilates and spinning and dance and personal trainers and nutritionists and everybody wears lululemon athletic, including Miss Musil. When she sees her personal trainer and nutritionist and takes her yoga classes, of course.
The reason fights break out over pickles at this sandwich shop, far from her gym, is that the pickles are actually quite good. Danicka smirked at the none-too-subtle pregnancy joke when she asked for extra pickles, took her sandwich and her gym bag outside, and sipped VitaminWater on a patio table, reading Crime and Punishment. In Russian.
She too, has those ubiquitous earbuds planted against either side of her skull, though they're connected to the iPhone sitting beside her plate. She doesn't see Lee go inside.
[Alexander] "So," Alexander pipes up the second Danicka sits down -- without looking away from his own sandwich at that -- "are you actually reading that, or just carrying it around because it makes you look smart?"
[Liadan] [percept + alert]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Danicka] [Perception + Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 10 (Failure at target 6) Re-rolls: 1
[Danicka] [Perception + Intuition]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Liadan] [percept + int]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Alexander] PA!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Alexander] PI!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 8, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Danicka] The woman in the pink and white athletic gear doesn't look up at first. Then she notices a shadow, and flicks her eyes up and over, and then reaches up and takes out one of her earbuds. "What was that?" she asks blithely. She recognizes him, obviously. They've gotten into the same tangles often enough that she has a general idea of what to expect of him... both in conversation and in a fight.
[Alexander] Bluntly, and skeptically: "Can you actually read that?"
[Liadan] The other Kinfolk don't notice the tall redhead slipping into the sandwich shop and sidling up to the counter to make her order. Lee wouldn't know how good the pickles are here if it weren't for the fights. Lee hates pickles. The cashier make think the less of her for her taste in pickle-less sandwiches, but she doesn't care.
She takes up her plate with a smile, polite and just barely reaching those dark eyes. Slipping her phone into a pocket of her gym bag, Lee makes her way back out to the patio. A glance is spared for the two sitting out there. Danicka gets a smile in greeting. Alex gets...the same. Maybe he expects her to snarl and lay into him. Or not, considering she hasn't paid him the least bit of attention for several months, despite going to the same gym.
The smile is brief, Lee's attention caught and held by the car pulling up. Something -- she doesn't know what -- doesn't feel right. Her hand tenses around the edge of her plate, and she ducks her head away. Keeping the car in her peripheral, she heads for an open patio table.
[Unfortunate events] There's a car that rolls up, and he doesn't give a shit. What-ev, you know? His knuckles hurt for some reason. That's just one car out of a dozen, but when people get out of it, Alex notices something. They guy that gets out of the back looks familiar. The other two don't, but thelittle guy- (heh) he's the familiar one. Doesn't breathe too deep.
And THAT's how it's going down!
Somehow, he gets a feeling that this might have something to do with not going down in the second. And that this? Might not go so well...
to Alexander
[Danicka] She doesn't notice any car. Just a sense like hairs rising on the back of her neck, windchimes tinkling in the distance. If she pays it mind, it doesn't show; Danicka lifts an eyebrow at Alexander, then looks down at her book and says: ""&+1056;&+1072;&+1079;&+1074;&+1077; &+1101;&+1090;&+1086; &+1089;&+1077;&+1088;&+1100;&+1077;&+1079;&+1085;&+1086;? &+1069;&+1090;&+1086; &+1085;&+1077; &+1089;&+1077;&+1088;&+1100;&+1077;&+1079;&+1085;&+1086;. &+1069;&+1090;&+1086; &+1087;&+1088;&+1086;&+1089;&+1090;&+1086; &+1092;&+1072;&+1085;&+1090;&+1072;&+1079;&+1080;&+1103;, &+1095;&+1090;&+1086;&+1073;&+1099; &+1088;&+1072;&+1079;&+1074;&+1083;&+1077;&+1095;&+1100; &+1089;&+1077;&+1073;&+1103;, &+1080;&+1075;&+1088;&+1091;&+1096;&+1082;&+1080;! &+1044;&+1072;, &+1084;&+1086;&+1078;&+1077;&+1090; &+1073;&+1099;&+1090;&+1100;, &+1101;&+1090;&+1086; &+1080;&+1075;&+1088;&+1091;&+1096;&+1082;&+1072;."
No, not just 'says'. Reads aloud, for him, from Chapter One.
Danicka reaches for her VitaminWater, which is when she sees Lee, and gives the redhead a smile. "Lee!" she calls, and waves her over.
[Alexander] "Huh," says Alexander, suitably impressed. "See I'd answer you in Russian but my spoken Russian sucks."
Then Danicka calls out to Lee, smiling, and Alex's head turns her way. He kicks out a chair from under the table. "Babydoll!" Overemoted joy, there. "Sit down! Catch up! It's -- "
he trails off. He frowns at the car pulling up, and while Lee's keeping it peripheral and Danicka's blissfully unaware, Alexander stands up, pops the last of a pickle into his mouth and opens his arms wide. It's about as genuine as his greeting to Liadan. It's posturing, not unlike a gorilla beating his chest when a rival's sighted.
"Robbie. I worried about you, man. How're the ribs?" His eyes flick down, searching the other's shirt for telltale signs of bandaging. There's something alert, balanced, ready about the kinsman.
[Unfortunate events] [
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Liadan] Danicka calls her name. Lee's head snaps back toward her, and she shifts her stance to better see her. Frowning slightly, she moves to join her. "Hey-" and Alex is kicking out a chair for her, greeting her with the old nickname, which is met with a disbelieving quirk of one red brow. "Hey, V."
Then Alex is rising, heading for the car. Lee sets her plate on the table, watching him for a moment as he goes. There's something off here, and it'd just be like Alexander to go poke danger right in the eye.
"I think that car ruined one of my shots last weekend," she says, offhand. Odd, that in a city as big as Chicago, the car that ruined her shot would carry a passenger known to Alex. She shrugs, trying to shake off the strange feeling.
[Unfortunate events] [Chico: Hey, I know you!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Rolls up. Rolls up with a strong walk, on a man that's a little over five and a half feet tall. It was hard to look hard, roll hard, talk hard when you were a little man. He got enough of that shit. Enough that people called him tiny. Enough that he went down too hard, too fast, didn't stand a fucking chance. It's hard to look like you're a badass when you're not quite five seven.
He's no David, and Alex sure as shit ain't Goliath.
One of the men with them is tall. Looks like he used steroids for too long. Has tear drop tattoos under the right eye. Two, one's colored in. One isn't. Can't tell what the rest of his tattoos are, one's faded on his neck, nice script. The others are hidden under clothes.
He looks too long, too hard at Liadan. He's really trying to place her. The other man is lanky, but sturdy. Looks like he could run a marathon, is surprisingly clean, and surprisingly tan for his eyes to be so blue. He looks at the redhead, nudges the larger man beside him when he's looking at Danicka. Says something.
They both laugh.
"Chill, Tiny-"
"-I ain't tiny, motherfucker-"
"let's just take this bitch and move," Chico says. the man with the tattoos. Chico.
The blue eyed one smiles something too predatory at Danicka, "sorry you gotta see this, princess."
And things... advance.
[Alexander] "Whoa. Robbie." Alex takes a few steps forward, arms still open in that open not-open, friendly not-friendly gesture. He glances at the other two but speaks to 'Tiny'. "What the fuck's going on here?"
Passing their neighbor's table, Alexander lets his hands drop, and casually -- at least he hopes it's casual, and subtle, and surreptitious -- snags a steak knife from the edge. He keeps it folded against his forearm. Out of sight, like.
[Danicka] One earbud still in, Danicka decides -- now that Lee is joining them -- to take it out, turn off her music, and close her book. She puts the iPhone back in its sueded case, winding up the cord to her headphones with practiced motions, then puts it in the outer pocket of her gym bag as Lee is taking the kicked-out chair.
She is, it seems, blissfully unaware. She glances at the car Lee indicates, flicks her eyebrows up as Alex wanders off to go greet the bruised man, and frowns when she sees him. "I think --"
Doesn't get that far. She lifts an eyebrow at the man who calls her 'Princess'. "Oh, I've probably seen worse," she says mildly, and leans over to put her book in her gym bag.
[Liadan] Men step out of the car with the too large trunk. One heads for Alex, two are headed towards herself and Danicka. Lee tenses. Her chin dips down, and she stares at him, usually warm dark eyes hard, narrowed behind her glasses.
Then she takes in a breath, lets it out slowly. Her muscles relax, her body loosens. The tall redhead has to lean forward or bend at the knees to lower her plate to Danicka's table. She leans, sets it down, lets her gym bag slide from her shoulder and down to where she can grip the strap.
As Danicka is putting away her things, and Alex is surreptitiously grabbing up a weapon, Lee leans again, lower her bag like she's actually going to set it down.
[Unfortunate events] "It ain't none of your fucking business," he replies. Tiny, that is. the one that has a Great Dane's bark and a dachshund's temperament, "I'll deal with your shit later."
A table separates Tiny from Liadan, from Danicka, and from the man who he seems content to be fuming at. Chico steps forward, and his eyes and attention and intentions are on Liadan. Both he and Blue eyes seem to make no attempt to hide this fact, though Blue eyes takes a few steps towards the street and forward. The larger man, Chico, takes the direct route, and maybe five or six feet separate him and Alex.
Blue eyes ups the ante. Blue eyes reaches into his coat for something.
This can't be good.
Danicka bets she's seen worse. "Then I'm sorry," he replies to her, "you might wanna duck."
[Alexander] Alex looks over his shoulder at Liadan. Then he shrugs at her. "Sorry, babydoll."
He steps out of the way, leftward, leaving an open corridor between Danicka and himself for Chico to head down.
[Liadan] Alex shrugs at Lee. Her attention is focused completely on Chico, making a direct line for the photographer. She doesn't let go of her bag as it gets closer to the ground. Chico comes closer, Blue Eyes reaches for something while they're all out in the open on a nice Thursday afternoon. Lee adjusts her grip on the strap of her gym bag.
[Danicka] [+6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7
[Liadan] [+6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10
[Alexander] +7!
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Unfortunate events] Tiny: +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[Unfortunate events] Chico: +5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes: +5
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes: 6
Alex: 9
Chico: 10
Danicka: 13
Liadan: 16
Tiny: 17
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes, good ol' blue eyes, is a steady hand, a good shot, and standing close enough to the street that if some dumbass checked the curb and drove too fast, they might just take him out. Unfortunately, no one's driving too fast, and he's aiming a gun at Liadan Whelan.
He's not shooting. At least, not yet. Keeping that hand mighty steady, though...
[Alexander] Alexander, having stepped aside, is not actually eyeing Blue Eyes and his gun warily. He's almost too calm. Most mortals faced with a gun would be cringing, screaming, hitting the deck.
The kinsman bides his time. His eyes follow Tiny and Chico, waiting for them to step past him.
[action: held! will accept +1 diff if changed later.]
[Unfortunate events] Chico steps around and between the two short(ish) men. He's too damned calm. He's too damned old for this. He's watching too warily for this. He takes his eyes off of Alex, off of Blue eyes, and he looks at Danicka.
He folds his arms across his chest. Too tall, too built like a mountain, and building himself up to be more imposing than he probably is.
[action: Be scary! Try and intimidate Danicka (because scaring people who are a foot shorter than you is SO HARDCORE!)]
[Danicka] Considering that they must seem to be Mere Mortals to these men, the Kinfolk on the sidewalk in front of the sandwich shop are incredibly calm. Danicka leans over to put her book away and a gun is drawn. She glances up as Alex steps aside, as Chico swaggers up and...stands there. She looks at Blue Eyes and his gun.
"Oh, this is ridiculous," she says, with a sigh of exasperation. What she removes from her gym bag is hidden in her hand as she straightens up, still seated. She looks at Chico. "It's broad daylight, for Christ's sake. If someone in there," she gestures at the sandwich shop, "hasn't already called the police, someone at the gym across the street probably has. What on earth are you two thinking?"
[Reflexive-ish: Talking. Could totally be willing to roll to persuade.
1a. Also drawing a sense dep dart out of her bag, crafty-like.
1b. Held.]
[Liadan] As Chico makes his way down the corridor opened by Alexander, Líadan straightens. There's a man aiming a gun for her, but Lee has other plans for the day.
Not dying is pretty high on the list.
Danicka's talking. Lee is studying Chico, eying the big man over for a weakness, something visible she, slimmer and significantly lighter, might be able to use against him.
[Reflexive: Percept + Subt on Chico
1: Held]
[Unfortunate events] Tiny can't wait. Tiny is... well... being Tiny. Robbie. The guy who got his ass beat last week. He's fuming, he's more than fuming. He's listening to Danicka and he rolls his eyes, his ire burns, and he growls It's a little too feral for someone his size.
He looks at Chico, who seems to be faltering a little, who hasn't had his pride smashed. He pushes past him, a lot faster than he seemed. He had the jump this time.
"Shoulda gone down in the fucking second-"
"CHILL, TINY!" Blue eyes calls at him,
Tiny ain't listening
[Actions!
1a- Ruuuuuun at Alex
1b: Punch to the face!
1c: knee to the ribs]
[Unfortunate events] [1a: I'm runnin!
1b: I'm punchin'! In the face (called shot): dex4+brawl3= 7 - 4 = 3, diff 8]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 8) [WP]
[Alexander] [redeclare:
1a. knife Chico in the kidneys!
b. grapple Tiny
c. knife up until the sternum!]
[Unfortunate events] [str3+called shot 2 - 1 = 4]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Alexander] [until? UNDER.]
[Alexander] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Tiny punches Alex in the face, and it's suddenly a reminder of why he lost that fight in the first place. So, he knees him in the chest. Or wherever it'll hit.
[Unfortunate events] [Knee!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 3 (Botch x 1 at target 7)
[Unfortunate events] [Self damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] [OWW!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Of course, this doesn't exactly work. Instead of actually hitting him, he sort of bounces off and ends up falling on his ass. The man's pride is more injured than his rear end is, though now he's on the ground, looking up between Chico and Alexander fucking Vaughn.
Man, this week sucked.
[Liadan] It only takes a second, maybe two, for Lee to study her opponent. Searching for any imbalance of weight placement, something obvious that she can attack to her advantage.
[percept (attentive) + subt (finding weaknesses) lookin' for something I can uuuuuuse on youuuuu]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Liadan] A reddish brow quirks as she stares at the man. Lee shifts her position, moves however she needs to to put the hulking man between herself and the wouldbe shooter.
"Hey. You. Why are you letting them do this? She's right, you know, someone has to have called the cops by now. Got your license plate. Alla that."
[redeclare! Talking while moving]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Danicka] [Reflexive:
Chico, you are retarded.
Manipulation (Convincing) + Leadership (makes the most sense to me)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[Unfortunate events] [WP: why the fuck am I doing this?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] "Man? Fuck y'all. Fuck alluh y'all. I ain't goin' back no where for y'all punk ass bitches," he says. Chico throws his hands up, He takes a step back and turns down the street.
"This is a bunch of bullshit," and it seems that Chico?
Is going home.
[Unfortunate events] [Chico: action change: Going the fuck home!]
[Danicka] [1a. Drawing sense dep dart out of back/concealing in hand. Not activating yet.
1b. Moving to door of sandwich shop, yelling in at a man sitting at a back table: "You! Call 9-1-1!"]
[Alexander] Alexander: laughs in Tiny's face as he goes down in a heap. In the same motion, rears back to stomp -- and we do mean STOMP -- on Tiny's crotch.
Could've been worse. Could've been a knife jammed into Chico's kidneys, but the big man had the bright idea to up and go home now. Could've also been a knife point to Tiny's heart, which, present sensory input notwithstanding, would've been a whole lot worse. He follows it up with a vicious kick to the adam's apple, and all the time he's yelling:
"Know what I love about a good old street brawl, Robbie? No DQ's. OH! That's gotta HURT! Want another one? Huh? OH!"
That time it's a kick right in the face.
[redeclaring since tiny's on the ground now and Chico's routing:
1a. targeted stomp of OWness
b. targeted throat kick
c. kick!]
[Alexander] 1a. -3 dice, +1 diff (redec), +2 diff (targeted), -2 diff (grounded foe)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 7, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Alexander] str+1+2(suxx)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Alexander] [er, +2 for low blow!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Ow!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Alexander] ignore the extra 2 dice -- wrong diff on the attack!
b. throat! -4 dice.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Alexander] [str +1 +1(succ) +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] [Fuck!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Alexander] c. OH WAIT. kick in the ribs. THE BROKEN ONES! -5 dice.
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 7 (Failure at target 9)
[Unfortunate events] He gurgles a rather unpleasant sound. Tiny looks like he might throw up. And he just might, actually. He might puke up his ever-loving guts because of all of this. That is not important. What is important is that he's curled up in the fetal position.
That last kick sails over Tiny's ribcage.
Thank God he's small.
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes suddenly finds himself without people to deal with, or to watch his back. This shit got real. Fast. Ever the people pleaser, he barks at Tiny and Chico
"Get your asses up and back here, this ain't naptime!"
Screw aiming.
This shit just got real.
[Action change! 3rb for Alex, 1 shot to Danicka]
[Unfortunate events] [3rb! Dex3+firearms3+3= 9 - 2 = 7, diff 8]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Unfortunate events] [4+1=5 (lethal)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 5, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Aaand second shot! -3
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 3, 8 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[Unfortunate events] Damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Danicka] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 3, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] The first shot fails to do any damage to the man wailing on Tiny, or rather, the first three shots. It's that fourth one, aimed into the blonde woman who said to call 9-1-1, rings true, and lands square in her stomach, a couple inches above her belly button.
She smells gunpowder, and it takes a second before she might look down and notice dark, dark blood trickling from her stomach.
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes
Alex
Chico (leaving)
Danicka (Stunned)
Lee
Tiny (stunned)
[Unfortunate events] Blue eyes levels the cun again, squeezes three shots off again at Alex, then a fourth on Lee.
[action
1a: 3rb: Alex
1b: Shoot Lee]
[Alexander] "Fuck!" Now there's a flinch and a duck, hands flying instinctively over his head. Alex's eyes swing between Tiny and Danicka, both on the ground now. One's moaning and rolling around and clutching his balls. The other's bleeding.
"Are you shitting me?" Alexander fucking Vaughn can't shut up even when people pull guns out. "Tiny Robbie here wants to get his rocks off and next thing I know you're popping people off? What the fuck! Is she dead? Who the fuck are you people?"
[1a. advance on blue eyes!
b. let's do that shiv to the heart thing!
c. again!]
[Unfortunate events] People are firing shots, and Chico, now, is hauling ass away from all of this.
[action: LEAVING!]
[Danicka] It's been a long time since she was shot and the wounds weren't instantly absorbed by the effects of a bloody bandage. It's been a long time since a shot aimed at her has hit, period. Danicka is in shock for a moment, though her body responds instantly. Blood begins to pour from her, and she looks down at the exit wound on her front, realizing she's already pressed her hands to her midsection,
and she hasn't realized that she's falling until she hits the ground, knees cracking on the pavement, body crumpling against the side of the sandwich shop. There's blood spray across the glass, across the concrete, and she's already drenched. Her expensive yoga clothes are ruined. That jacket alone cost a hundred and twenty dollars.
She exhales heavily, and opens her eyes, turning over and looking at the guy who just shot her. A bizarre thought flashes through her mind, the imagine of an acorn in the process of spouting, and something very similar to the rage that fuels their cousins runs through her.
"You son of a bitch," she spits, all venom and English, and her eyes turn to poison.
[-1WP to ignore stun
1a. crawl back to gym bag
1b. -1WP for BB]
[Liadan] Shots go off, and Lee flinches. And when she gets a chance to look around, she sees
Danicka. Shot and bleeding from her stomach. Lee drops her gym bag. Glares at the man with the gun. "Son of a bitch. I'm the one you're after, right, you cocksucking motherfucker? Come and get me!"
[Reflexive?: Hurling insults/taunting
Action: Run east (away from Chico)]
[Liadan] [manip + exp: YOUR MOTHER IS A HAMSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELLS OF ELDERBERRIES]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 6, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Unfortunate events] [WP: Oh you BITCH! Resist!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Alexander] 1a. mvmt!
b. stab! +2 diff for targeting, -4 dice
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[Alexander] c. let's do that again. +WP!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6) [WP]
[Alexander] [str +1(succ) +2(sfx)]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] [soak?]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 4, 8 (Failure at target 8)
[Unfortunate events] [Aaand +1 diff to changing targets (sorry, Lee!)]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Unfortunate events] Damage:
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Liadan] [Soak?]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 8)
[Unfortunate events] And another shot at Lee!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Damage?
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Liadan] [do it again, girl!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 9, 9, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8)
[Unfortunate events] The shot nails Lee in the back, and it's enough that she falls to her knees. She hits the ground, blood starts to poo. The second shot should have killed her. Fianna are made of stronger things than muscle and skin. She's kicked a Black Spiral to death-
What's a gun in comparison?
In the distance, they start to hear sirens. Apparently, someone did call 9-1-1
[Unfortunate events] [Blue eyes: Oh shit! Run away! Homeboy just stabbed me!]
[Unfortunate events] [when we read this transcript? let it be known that blood starts to pool. Not poo.]
[Alexander] "You bitch! Get back here!" For once, that's all the comment Alex has right now.
[1a. chase and stab!
b. cut throat!]
[Unfortunate events] Chico is, at this moment, nowhere in sight.
[Danicka] [1a. draw and load
1b. 3rb on blue eyes]
[Liadan] [1a: Get up
1b: Stagger on, grumbling and swearing like an old man]
[Unfortunate events] Tiny hauls himself up to his feet. Or, rather, tries to haul himself up to his feet. He's not walking the way he should, and he's white as Hell... but it's hard to tell whether or not it's from the gunshots or it's because of the fact that someone almost died, or because he just realized how in over his head he was.
Whatever it was, Robbie turned tail and ran. Ran about as fast as he could at that.
[Danicka] [1b. 3rb -3]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Danicka] [Damage! 4 + 3]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Soak?
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 7, 8 (Success x 1 at target 8)
[Alexander] a. stab! -2
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 6 (Success x 2 at target 4)
[Alexander] str+1!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 6, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] Soak?
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 5, 9 (Failure at target 8)
[Alexander] b. vicious throatslitting move! +2 diff
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Alexander] str +1!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Unfortunate events] The sight itself is a dismal one. There's blood everywhere, people are getting shot, and Alexander Vaughn is chasing a man down with a utensil with the intent of taking him out. The man leaves as fast as he can, but it seems that others are intent on finishing things up.
This is Chicago. This is self-defense. This was a straight up attack from one party to the other. They might get their pictures in the paper, marked as heroes. Or better yet, end up as internet memes. However, they aren't looking for fame of any kind, or for anything like that-
Or, conversely, the cops might be rounding the corner in time to see a redheaded female shuffling away from a scene. To watch Alexander fucking Vaughn slit a man's throat, and to see Danicka Musil, covered in blood with no wound in sight.
By the time the body falls, the other two men are nowhere in sight and the kinfolk can see the flashing lights.
... suffice to say, Thursdays sucked.
[Danicka] Her gun is registered.
She's bloodsoaked and there are witnesses on two sides of the street that saw her get shot and fall.
Danicka hears sirens and begins to quietly, invisibly panic. She breathes normally, and her eyes and face are placid, but three rounds went off from her nine millimeter into that man over there, and her blood is everywhere and there isn't a fucking mark on her. There's bulletholes in her clothing and there's not a fucking mark on her.
She exhales, and inhales, and exhales again. "Shit."
[Alexander] "Shit."
Alex seems to concur. There's a dead body at his feet. There's a bloody steak knife in his hand. There are a lot of staring sandwichers, and there are sirens approaching, and he's never getting free pickles here again.
"Shit," he says again, and turns, and jogs over to the blonde, and the redhead, and both of them are shot but one isn't bleeding anymore, and --
"Is she all right?" Lee, that is. Without waiting for an answer, he goes on, low: "I think I killed him. And I think yelling obnoxious shit is going to look bad when I plea self-defense. So if I end up in jail, can one of you bail me out? And testify if I end up in court?" And raising his voice: "Hey, call 911 again and tell them to send an ambulance!"
[Danicka] "Yeah," she exhales, when Alex asked to be bailed out. She's casting about with her eyes for Lee, and if there weren't cops coming she'd heal her, if this was a normal fight --
sick, that for her 'normal' means fomori, means spirals, means Garou cleaning up. Not this.
-- she could get away with having healed herself. Danicka doesn't bother to try and put away the gun. She safeties it, and blinks a few times. "I'll be bailing myself out, too, anyway, I think."
[Liadan] Lee is not fine.
She had made it a decent distance when that first shot ripped into her back, bringing her to her knees. It surprised her. Shocked her. And that gave her just enough time to pull herself to her feet and try to carry on, try to keep drawing the fire away from Danicka and Alexander. Her pace slows to a halt, and she turns to look back over the damage. Alex is fine. Danicka's fine. The bad guys are down, for the most part. Lee would head back to the others, but first she needs to stop, catch her breath.
She slumps onto a bus stop bench, starts to lean back, but stops. Shifts. It hurts to sit, hurts to breathe. She slumps, and she waits for someone to call her a damn ambulance.
