Encounterlogs
Marcuss Odd Encounter Sr Beau
Marcus, after emerging from a portal in Narnia, found himself in a hostile encounter on Main Street. With his companion Rachel by his side and stormclouds brooding ominously above, he attempted to establish a legal identity and perhaps procure some liquor. But their conversation was cut short as a man aggressively approached Marcus, snatched his keys, and kicked his van, initiating an assault that quickly escalated. The perpetrators, fueled by blind rage, threw rocks and shattered windows, while the cold-hearted bystanders did nothing but watch and film the scene. Amidst the growing mob, Rachel was shot in the shoulder by the attacker's gun, prompting her to flee in search of help.
In a state of panic, both frightened and desperate, Marcus was forced to defend himself. His reactions, however, were anomalously hindered — whenever he tried to hit the accelerator to escape or retaliate, his instincts inexplicably slammed on the brakes. When two bikers suddenly appeared to aid him, the violent tableau took on a chaotic new dimension. Their initial assistance turned precarious as they revealed questionable affiliations, and Marcus struggled to keep his battered van moving amidst the onslaught. As Rachel made her escape, Marcus was left to navigate a harrowing gauntlet of crashes, gunfire, and a mob thirsty for violence. Ultimately, a pink-haired, fanged woman came to his aid, commanding Marcus to run. An explosion cut through the madness, scattering remnants of a doomed hunter across the scene. Obeying the woman, Marcus seized the opportunity to escape into the night, the belt of his van now flailing loose, his escape tinged with terror and mystery.
(Marcus's odd encounter(SRBeau):SRBeau)
[Tue Jan 2 2024]
On Main Street
It is night, about 16F(-8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a last quarter moon.
(Your target has been cursed with persecution, it is up to them to survive a world suddenly turned hostile until their allies can come and help get them to safety or deal with the curse.
)
Marcus was just climbing into a brown-striped Volkswagen van after a trip to Narnia, with a new phone in his hand and new clothes in the backseat. He's having a discussion with Rachel about where to go next to establish himself a legal identity, and/or get himself a bottle of liquor.
"Uhh, do you have connections with the cops here?" Marcus wonders, shifting his eyes over to Rachel in the passenger's seat. "Because I don't think they're usually in the habit of issuing fake ID's."
It's a chilly night in haven as the street lights are flickering on, a few cars driving by with music blaring. People walk by in hats and scarves, though mmost don't may much attention to what's going on. That is, someone slows.
They stand there for a moment, glaring at Marcus as he seems to be preparing to make his way off.
It's even more shocking when this person a man of about 35 stalks over and shoves his shoulder in the path of the car door and moves to snatch the keys out of his hand.
Rachel's,, unfortunately, not helpful. She has no idea where to get an identity, and the question of booze has gone entirely ignored. The good thing is that she, like Marcus, has a phone. So, while she answers Marcus, she does her research. "I actually do. Deputy Bailey's a good friend of mine."
"...I don't think she'd get you a FAKE ID. She'd probably help you with a real one, tho--"
There's the stranger. Rachel only has time enough to notice, not react.
Marcus is not prepared for the snatch-and-grab, and he fails to move his hand out of the way in time. "Whoa," he says, and then he just starts...making a noise. It's not exactly a human noise. That is to say, it's a human noise in that it's produced with human vocal cords, but it's not the kind of sound humans usually make. It's not exactly the kind of sound animals make, either. It's just kind of an aggressive, growling, sharp, short yell. He repeats it several times. Rachel might have the sense to realize that the man is reflexively...well, barking. It's not the sound of a human imitating a dog, but the sound of a dog that is graced with human anatomy. His eyes are wide and after a few repetitions, he stops, and turns the sound into something more like, "Hey!" He tries to snatch the keys back.
The man pulls his hand back quickly, his foot starting to kick the side of the car, yelling, "Fuck you... What the fuck is wrong with you. You fucking freak. The fuck do you think you're doing in our town."
Even as the man is yelling at Marcus, A large rock comes speeding across the street like a baseball. A teen boy picking it up and throwing it at the window on the other side of the car.
A girl next to him, near ten years old laughs, as the rock slams into the glass cracking it.
The next one thrown shatters it shards of glass spraying across the inside of the vehicle.
"Your mom's a whore, dumb cunt."
Rachel's passenger side, which means that if she wants to be helpful, she's both out of reach and out of luck. Maybe she wouldn't have moved at all - and in fact, she's instructing Marcus, "Did you bring the other set of ke--" - when the window breaks. She reflexively throws her arms over her head and screams, loud, clipped. "What the hell?!" There's little aggression in it - just surprise. "Marcus, car keys. The spare. Please tell me you brought them."
Marcus turns swiftly to Rachel, eyes wide, after the rock strikes the passenger's side window. The first one just thuds against the glass. "What did I do?!" he demands of Rachel, or himself, or God, or anyone who's listening. The growl is still an undercurrent in his voice, but it's now more frantic and anxious than aggressive. Certainly, any aggression still present isn't aimed at Rachel. He doesn't wait for an answer from anyone before clambering out of the car and trying to wrestle the keys from the man kicking the car. "Give me the keys, asshole!" That's when the window busts in a shower of glass, and he's lucky enough to miss the shattered shards...whereas Rachel may not be so fortunate.
But then Rachel recalls something he hasn't. "The spare!" He quickly bolts back into the car and slams the door. "Shit...shit..." He digs through his pockets until he finds the key fob.
The man starts to drive his foot into the side of the car door. Thump Thump Thump.
He keeps kicking it, dents sprouting up with little crunches of metal where the body of the vehicle isn't able to withstand the assault. Another rock strikes the windshield and cracks spiderweb over it in a flare out from each contact point.
More rocks start flying, the girl joining in too after a moment, the girl yelling, "Get the fuck out of here. You fucking freak."
It's horrible, but avoidable, until the man's reaching into his belt behind his back and he's pulling out a pistol
It's old, dirty, clearly a gun someone got from a friend or from a dealer. Who knows, but it's aimed at the side of the car before there's a report, a bang thatechoes off the building and a ping with a bullethole put through the front light.
"Get the fuck out you fucker. Or I'm blowing your fucking brains all over the fucking car."
Other's look out from windows, but it's just so odd that they're smiling. Some housewives even gesture their kids to come look.
No chance Rachel would have exited the car with Marcus having found the spare. She's hunched over in her seat, her arms over top of her head for protection, her face turned to her knees. That's until the threat of the gun. Doesn't matter if it's meant for Marcus or for Rachel. She doesn't have to look - and most certainly she's not going to ask - to decide that following orders is preferable to the alternative.
She pops the car door open and comes out, hands up on either side of her. Someone's been watching plenty of films, if that's the first reaction. A moment's spared to throw a panicked look Marcus's way.
"Fuck!" Marcus is crazed with adrenaline. He's not being very eloquent right now. "Shit!" he yells next, sparing a frantic look at Rachel before glancing into his side mirror to keep an eye on the aggressive -- and armed -- figures. OBJECTS IN MIRROR MAY BE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR. These are not comforting words for Marcus as his van weathers the assault of these inexplicably livid denizens of Haven. Instead of getting out of the car along with Rachel, he summons up his courage and floors the gas pedal...in reverse. He careens around and tries to back over the man with the gun. But, unbelievably, his foot slams on the brakes, and he stops just short of rolling over the attacker, something that seems to shock Marcus more than anyone else. "NO, NO, NO! COME ON!"
"You shouldn't have ever been in this town in the first place. You're just gonna make more trouble," The man says dangerously to Marcus, the gun whipped around and pinned on Rachel as soon as her door slings around.
The teens are all out of rocks. The click of the gun goes off as it's cocked again, this time with the hammer, the man's grip tightening, "Go ahead, little girl. Stay around with this creep," his finger twitching.
He'd threaten more but then the car is launching in reverse.
The gun goes off, the shot going wide, but grazing Rachel's shoulder. Then the door of the nearby store bursts open and the clerk, runs out with a bat, the expression on his face twisted in anger, spittle spraying from his mouth as he lets out a snarl, swinging the blunt weapon and taking off the mirror of the car.
"Show him, Show him what fucks like him get," The teen boy yells, giving Marcus and Rachel lewd gestures. Still, it seems that if Rachel were going to run out of there she most certainly could.
Marcus says "RUN, RACHEL!"
In the face of danger, some people react like Marcus, quick to fly into action. Others, Rachel. She's his very opposite, fully unmoving, as though - if she were a statue - she might avoid further notice. SCREEEEEEECH. The car goes lurching backward, about to hit -- her eyelids fly open - because, utterly without survival instinct, she'd decided to play 'if I can't see them, they can't see me'. "MARCUS, NO." Too late. He's aggressed, and even worse, to no avail.
When the shot goes off, simultaneous with her yelling, she doesn't register it at first.
Something red drips from her jacket.
There's a moment of profound indecision - but when the clerk comes running at the car, too, she's got nothing else she CAN do but bolt. Her sprint is accompanied by out-of-breath screaming, "HELP. SOMEONE HELP."
Watching someone run, Marcus pants. He doesn't pant like a man, but like a dog, with his tongue hanging out and a wild smile that isn't really a smile. His eyes are peeled wide, searching his surroundings. He tries to back up again, to reverse over the aggressors. It doesn't work, at least not at first. Why can't he make himself hit the gas? Except, he realizes, he can. Very slowly. He gets the car to move only when he slightly depresses the gas pedla. "Come on, come on, come on," he chants to himself, but for whatever reason, he can't bring himself to floor it. So instead of acting drastically, he just bellows out a yell as he very slowly rolls back towards the man with the gun. "COME ON!" Screaming at himself doesn't make himself go any faster, but he does it anyway, slamming his hands repeatedly on the steering wheel. "COME ON!" And if the guy doesn't move, he'll get very gently backed over.
Watching Rachel run, Marcus pants. He doesn't pant like a man, but like a dog, with his tongue hanging out and a wild smile that isn't really a smile. His eyes are peeled wide, searching his surroundings. He tries to back up again, to reverse over the aggressors. It doesn't work, at least not at first. Why can't he make himself hit the gas? Except, he realizes, he can. Very slowly. He gets the car to move only when he slightly depresses the gas pedla. "Come on, come on, come on," he chants to himself, but for whatever reason, he can't bring himself to floor it. So instead of acting drastically, he just bellows out a yell as he very slowly rolls back towards the man with the gun. "COME ON!" Screaming at himself doesn't make himself go any faster, but he does it anyway, slamming his hands repeatedly on the steering wheel. "COME ON!" And if the guy doesn't move, he'll get very gently backed over.
Crunch. Crunch. The bat keeops coming down, over and over, each time the car getting dented more and more. Each strike making a mess of the vehicle as down the line the clerk goes, wheeling around to the back of the Bug, smashing the tail-light.
The man with the gun pulls the trigger again, after the woman, but it jams and he's left swearing.
It doesn't matter though. The kids can take up where the adults left off.
The boy, finds another stone, and he picks it up, makes a baseball pitch and puts that next rock all the way through the windshield.
The whole thing causes a jam up of traffic, as main street is full of chaos.
People start slamming on their horns, an old man throwing a cup with what must be the last of his left over shake out the window for it to fall shy, drops of icecream splattering up against the tires. "Get the fuck out. Just fucking go you shit..."
The other girl, is pulling out a cmamera taking vids now.
"It's easy to hear her saying next to it. Oh shit, Oh my god. Look at this shit. This dude is totally beating in this guys car. He looks like a fucking Pedo. HAha. You guys aren't gonna believe this. you really aren't. He's been here forever, and we're fucking sick of it. I hope they beat the shit out of him."
There's a flutter of air past Marcus's head though as the man swings in a blind rage, missing the man's head and cracking the end of the bat into the door frame. It splinters the wood up the length, and a bit of woody shards kiss the back of Marcus's neck even as the man tries to fumble with it, the bat getting tangled in the seatbelt causing the clerk to fall as he pulls to hard and it comes free with a jerk.
Marcus says "WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!"
Marcus absolutely /shrieks/ these six words. He tries opening the door and banging it against the clerk's head. He tries everything he can. He punches out the broken window, he grabs at what he can grab. He continually tries backing over whoever is close to his van -- though that seems to be difficult for him to do, for every time he tries to step too hard on the gas, his foot shifts to the brakes instead. He yells in frustration, and just starts bark-yelling again. It's an ugly sound, and one that he doesn't consciously make. It just erupts from his throat, again and again and again.
With every sound that comes from Marcus's mouth the intensity of the people around him only grows more chaotic, until the door clips the clerk, when he gets back up to continue the assault the man falling to the side and toppling the man who's been trying to get the gun unjammed.
the kids rush the car and the boy gets punched in the face with one of those flying struggles, blood spraying from his nose. His hand tries to grab at Marcus's hair, but he just can't manage to get a proper fist into the other's hair.
It makes the boy go wild even as the nails of his fingers claw down Marcus's cheek drawing out furrows from his face, before he has to jump back because the moving of the car in it's stops and starts .@line
No that car doesn't even twitch when it's angled to do more damage to the surrounding attackers, but it's the girl's hesitation that leaves a gap to shoot the van through.
Yet the marks of those fingers are clearly left to drip bloody trails along Marcus's neck.
A man on a motorcycle drives by, sees the chaotic scene and he fishtails whipping back around the crowd only to spray rocks, not at the car, but at the man attacking it as a gruff voice snarls out, "Come the fuck on."
It's probably help, but the man clearly has a SS tatted on his neck. Great, Skinheads.
Marcus stops barking for a moment to stare at the skinhead. Not what he was expecting, but help is help. Marcus tries to take advantage of this moment of distraction to peal away in his van -- if he can manage it without running into that stubborn foot that insists upon braking whenever he might /actually/ hurt someone.
"Are you fucking serious?" The boy says, getting out of the way of the car at the last moment though it runs over the boy's foot and he starts hurling curses at the vehicle that swings out of the way.
the Biker ratchets the thing up to fulls speed, and it near leaps into motion causing the few around the vehicle to move out of the way.
There's a quick look back, then the man's leaning over the harley, because of course, and he puts all the engine's power into speed, the heavy piece of machinery quickly pulling out in front of the van as if forming an escort.
He's somehow managing to talk on a radio he's slipped out of a pocket too, and after a moment another biker slides in beside the first, this one shorter.
the break is only short lived as a truck barrels out of a side street, sliding in behind the trio, and it starts to chase Marcus down, the man turning and pulling out a gun.
Shooting tires doesn't hurt anyone by itself.
And so, Biker one slows his vehicle down coming up alongside the van, and he gestures Marcus to speed up with the gun before he angles it back and begins shooting blindly.
Each bullet curves unnaturally accurate. The first one slugging the truck's front tire and causing it to go flat. Bits of rubber start to pull from it in strips with each moment of it going flat.
The next shot goes wide, but the third shot angles and hits the other tire, and the truck spins out crashing into a light post.
The second biker continues her dangerous pace, weaving around cars that try and cut Marcus off, and people who begin pouring out of buildings. A person here, A group of women there at a nail salon.
Everyone's in a frenzy, and it's only made worse by furious activity from the Gangers? saviors. It's unclear.
There's a loud reported and very unhappy, word from the Teen as he calls out, "Are you fucking serious?" The boy says, getting out of the way of the car at the last moment though it runs over the boy's foot and he starts hurling curses at the vehicle that swings out of the way.
the Biker ratchets the thing up to fulls speed, and it near leaps into motion causing the few around the vehicle to move out of the way.
There's a quick look back, then the man's leaning over the harley, because of course, and he puts all the engine's power into speed, the heavy piece of machinery quickly pulling out in front of the van as if forming an escort.
He's somehow managing to talk on a radio he's slipped out of a pocket too, and after a moment another biker slides in beside the first, this one shorter.
the break is only short lived as a truck barrels out of a side street, sliding in behind the trio, and it starts to chase Marcus down, the man turning and pulling out a gun.
Shooting tires doesn't hurt anyone by itself.
And so, Biker one slows his vehicle down coming up alongside the van, and he gestures Marcus to speed up with the gun before he angles it back and begins shooting blindly.
Each bullet curves unnaturally accurate. The first one slugging the truck's front tire and causing it to go flat. Bits of rubber start to pull from it in strips with each moment of it going flat.
The next shot goes wide, but the third shot angles and hits the other tire, and the truck spins out crashing into a light post.
The second biker continues her dangerous pace, weaving around cars that try and cut Marcus off, and people who begin pouring out of buildings. A person here, A group of women there at a nail salon.
Everyone's in a frenzy, and it's only made worse by furious activity from the Gangers? saviors. It's unclear.
Marcus screams wildly, wordlessly, a savage yell. He barrels forward through the street. He may not know what's going on, but he knows he has to get out of here -- he knows this is the epicenter of the trouble. His van is even uglier than it started out as, but it drives just fine, and if he can, he'll veer around bikers and ne'er-do-wells to try and zoom on home.
Cars swirve to try and get in the way, and one clips the front of the van. This driver however is different, and it's more than just general upset. This driver is experienced, and and the vehicle he's using is heavy, another truck.
The biker beside Marcus's vehicle has to cut a hard turn and slide his motorcycle off to the side, the tail, clipping the bumper and spinning the bike.
The biker, clearly a dude is thrown and he skids across the pavement, leather trousers cut up and torn with bloody trails running down his limbs when he tires to get up.
The second biker doesn't pay any attention other than to turn around and come back the other way turning to follow the first car and Marcus's van when it's near shoved into an alley way to crash there.
The door opens and out steps a man dressed up in combat gear, and a bag on his hip, a neutralizer inn one hand and a collar in the other. He starts to approach the vehicle nice and slow, until the biker jumps off their bike, much shorter of a person than originally thought, and they land near Marcus's door. "you're going to get out of your van and you're going to stay behind me. When I say you're going to fucking run, and head out of town not back in. Stay there a couple of days and then you're going to wait for me to call you."
The man pulls the pin on the strange granaed, and while it doesn't have an explosion there's an electromagnatic pulse from it when it hits the ground.
the Biker jumps back and just manages to gett far enough away before pulling off.... her helmet.
There's pink hair, way to pink hair to be natural, and when she smiles there's snake-like fangs in her mouth.
No time for further study though as she rushes dangerously fast forward and punches at the first man who's forced to jump back.
Another figure starts to climb out of the Van only to be grabbed from behind by the first guy, who starts to wrestle with the other behind the truck. it ends up with a loud bang, a bright flash, and a cloud of smoke and coughing to come from inside a haze of smoke.
Marcus is overwhelmed, but he is not too stupid to do what he is told by the strange, neon-haired woman. Out he goes from the beat-up van. He sticks close to the fanged woman, sticking behind her with all the chaos. He doesn't say anything this time. He doesn't even bark. He just whimpers, deep in his throat. Otherwise, he is silent, obedient, and attentive. He knows when he's in the presence of someone far more competent than he. He waits for the strange woman's cue, tense and rigid and ready to bolt.
A hunter, that's what it has to be judging by the man's willingness to go toe to toe with this woman. He makes to pull out another grenade cocking his arm back to throw it, just for all his gear to spark and fizzle out, the equipment going dead in his hands.
The man behind him tries to reach over the truck to grab the man from behind, only for a knife to sink into his forearm, the blade covered in a black oily substance which makes the man yank his hand back before he starts gritting his teeth, clearly poisoned.
The woman takes that chance to rush forward, and stab at the Hunter's belly. It lands and while it only pierces just through his armor, the force launches him back into the truck.
" Re--" A large explosion detinates then before bloody bits of human are sprayed everywhere, someone pushing the hail mary button and suiciding himself for the cause, the large biker thrown and landing in a heap somedistance away, the side of the truck charred and blackened by the sudden heat.
The pink haired woman pushes Marcus then before she dives back into it, kicking the other in the stomaach, briefly tying him up then running over towards her partner.
She picks him up way too easily and then they're running off into the smoke leaving Marcus to make his escape into the night.
Marcus absolutely bolts into the dark unknown, sprattered in things he doesn't want to be spattered in. He doesn't dare look back. Off he goes, cold and hugging his clothing to himself.
In a state of panic, both frightened and desperate, Marcus was forced to defend himself. His reactions, however, were anomalously hindered — whenever he tried to hit the accelerator to escape or retaliate, his instincts inexplicably slammed on the brakes. When two bikers suddenly appeared to aid him, the violent tableau took on a chaotic new dimension. Their initial assistance turned precarious as they revealed questionable affiliations, and Marcus struggled to keep his battered van moving amidst the onslaught. As Rachel made her escape, Marcus was left to navigate a harrowing gauntlet of crashes, gunfire, and a mob thirsty for violence. Ultimately, a pink-haired, fanged woman came to his aid, commanding Marcus to run. An explosion cut through the madness, scattering remnants of a doomed hunter across the scene. Obeying the woman, Marcus seized the opportunity to escape into the night, the belt of his van now flailing loose, his escape tinged with terror and mystery.
(Marcus's odd encounter(SRBeau):SRBeau)
[Tue Jan 2 2024]
On Main Street
It is night, about 16F(-8C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a last quarter moon.
(Your target has been cursed with persecution, it is up to them to survive a world suddenly turned hostile until their allies can come and help get them to safety or deal with the curse.
)
Marcus was just climbing into a brown-striped Volkswagen van after a trip to Narnia, with a new phone in his hand and new clothes in the backseat. He's having a discussion with Rachel about where to go next to establish himself a legal identity, and/or get himself a bottle of liquor.
"Uhh, do you have connections with the cops here?" Marcus wonders, shifting his eyes over to Rachel in the passenger's seat. "Because I don't think they're usually in the habit of issuing fake ID's."
It's a chilly night in haven as the street lights are flickering on, a few cars driving by with music blaring. People walk by in hats and scarves, though mmost don't may much attention to what's going on. That is, someone slows.
They stand there for a moment, glaring at Marcus as he seems to be preparing to make his way off.
It's even more shocking when this person a man of about 35 stalks over and shoves his shoulder in the path of the car door and moves to snatch the keys out of his hand.
Rachel's,, unfortunately, not helpful. She has no idea where to get an identity, and the question of booze has gone entirely ignored. The good thing is that she, like Marcus, has a phone. So, while she answers Marcus, she does her research. "I actually do. Deputy Bailey's a good friend of mine."
"...I don't think she'd get you a FAKE ID. She'd probably help you with a real one, tho--"
There's the stranger. Rachel only has time enough to notice, not react.
Marcus is not prepared for the snatch-and-grab, and he fails to move his hand out of the way in time. "Whoa," he says, and then he just starts...making a noise. It's not exactly a human noise. That is to say, it's a human noise in that it's produced with human vocal cords, but it's not the kind of sound humans usually make. It's not exactly the kind of sound animals make, either. It's just kind of an aggressive, growling, sharp, short yell. He repeats it several times. Rachel might have the sense to realize that the man is reflexively...well, barking. It's not the sound of a human imitating a dog, but the sound of a dog that is graced with human anatomy. His eyes are wide and after a few repetitions, he stops, and turns the sound into something more like, "Hey!" He tries to snatch the keys back.
The man pulls his hand back quickly, his foot starting to kick the side of the car, yelling, "Fuck you... What the fuck is wrong with you. You fucking freak. The fuck do you think you're doing in our town."
Even as the man is yelling at Marcus, A large rock comes speeding across the street like a baseball. A teen boy picking it up and throwing it at the window on the other side of the car.
A girl next to him, near ten years old laughs, as the rock slams into the glass cracking it.
The next one thrown shatters it shards of glass spraying across the inside of the vehicle.
"Your mom's a whore, dumb cunt."
Rachel's passenger side, which means that if she wants to be helpful, she's both out of reach and out of luck. Maybe she wouldn't have moved at all - and in fact, she's instructing Marcus, "Did you bring the other set of ke--" - when the window breaks. She reflexively throws her arms over her head and screams, loud, clipped. "What the hell?!" There's little aggression in it - just surprise. "Marcus, car keys. The spare. Please tell me you brought them."
Marcus turns swiftly to Rachel, eyes wide, after the rock strikes the passenger's side window. The first one just thuds against the glass. "What did I do?!" he demands of Rachel, or himself, or God, or anyone who's listening. The growl is still an undercurrent in his voice, but it's now more frantic and anxious than aggressive. Certainly, any aggression still present isn't aimed at Rachel. He doesn't wait for an answer from anyone before clambering out of the car and trying to wrestle the keys from the man kicking the car. "Give me the keys, asshole!" That's when the window busts in a shower of glass, and he's lucky enough to miss the shattered shards...whereas Rachel may not be so fortunate.
But then Rachel recalls something he hasn't. "The spare!" He quickly bolts back into the car and slams the door. "Shit...shit..." He digs through his pockets until he finds the key fob.
The man starts to drive his foot into the side of the car door. Thump Thump Thump.
He keeps kicking it, dents sprouting up with little crunches of metal where the body of the vehicle isn't able to withstand the assault. Another rock strikes the windshield and cracks spiderweb over it in a flare out from each contact point.
More rocks start flying, the girl joining in too after a moment, the girl yelling, "Get the fuck out of here. You fucking freak."
It's horrible, but avoidable, until the man's reaching into his belt behind his back and he's pulling out a pistol
It's old, dirty, clearly a gun someone got from a friend or from a dealer. Who knows, but it's aimed at the side of the car before there's a report, a bang thatechoes off the building and a ping with a bullethole put through the front light.
"Get the fuck out you fucker. Or I'm blowing your fucking brains all over the fucking car."
Other's look out from windows, but it's just so odd that they're smiling. Some housewives even gesture their kids to come look.
No chance Rachel would have exited the car with Marcus having found the spare. She's hunched over in her seat, her arms over top of her head for protection, her face turned to her knees. That's until the threat of the gun. Doesn't matter if it's meant for Marcus or for Rachel. She doesn't have to look - and most certainly she's not going to ask - to decide that following orders is preferable to the alternative.
She pops the car door open and comes out, hands up on either side of her. Someone's been watching plenty of films, if that's the first reaction. A moment's spared to throw a panicked look Marcus's way.
"Fuck!" Marcus is crazed with adrenaline. He's not being very eloquent right now. "Shit!" he yells next, sparing a frantic look at Rachel before glancing into his side mirror to keep an eye on the aggressive -- and armed -- figures. OBJECTS IN MIRROR MAY BE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR. These are not comforting words for Marcus as his van weathers the assault of these inexplicably livid denizens of Haven. Instead of getting out of the car along with Rachel, he summons up his courage and floors the gas pedal...in reverse. He careens around and tries to back over the man with the gun. But, unbelievably, his foot slams on the brakes, and he stops just short of rolling over the attacker, something that seems to shock Marcus more than anyone else. "NO, NO, NO! COME ON!"
"You shouldn't have ever been in this town in the first place. You're just gonna make more trouble," The man says dangerously to Marcus, the gun whipped around and pinned on Rachel as soon as her door slings around.
The teens are all out of rocks. The click of the gun goes off as it's cocked again, this time with the hammer, the man's grip tightening, "Go ahead, little girl. Stay around with this creep," his finger twitching.
He'd threaten more but then the car is launching in reverse.
The gun goes off, the shot going wide, but grazing Rachel's shoulder. Then the door of the nearby store bursts open and the clerk, runs out with a bat, the expression on his face twisted in anger, spittle spraying from his mouth as he lets out a snarl, swinging the blunt weapon and taking off the mirror of the car.
"Show him, Show him what fucks like him get," The teen boy yells, giving Marcus and Rachel lewd gestures. Still, it seems that if Rachel were going to run out of there she most certainly could.
Marcus says "RUN, RACHEL!"
In the face of danger, some people react like Marcus, quick to fly into action. Others, Rachel. She's his very opposite, fully unmoving, as though - if she were a statue - she might avoid further notice. SCREEEEEEECH. The car goes lurching backward, about to hit -- her eyelids fly open - because, utterly without survival instinct, she'd decided to play 'if I can't see them, they can't see me'. "MARCUS, NO." Too late. He's aggressed, and even worse, to no avail.
When the shot goes off, simultaneous with her yelling, she doesn't register it at first.
Something red drips from her jacket.
There's a moment of profound indecision - but when the clerk comes running at the car, too, she's got nothing else she CAN do but bolt. Her sprint is accompanied by out-of-breath screaming, "HELP. SOMEONE HELP."
Watching someone run, Marcus pants. He doesn't pant like a man, but like a dog, with his tongue hanging out and a wild smile that isn't really a smile. His eyes are peeled wide, searching his surroundings. He tries to back up again, to reverse over the aggressors. It doesn't work, at least not at first. Why can't he make himself hit the gas? Except, he realizes, he can. Very slowly. He gets the car to move only when he slightly depresses the gas pedla. "Come on, come on, come on," he chants to himself, but for whatever reason, he can't bring himself to floor it. So instead of acting drastically, he just bellows out a yell as he very slowly rolls back towards the man with the gun. "COME ON!" Screaming at himself doesn't make himself go any faster, but he does it anyway, slamming his hands repeatedly on the steering wheel. "COME ON!" And if the guy doesn't move, he'll get very gently backed over.
Watching Rachel run, Marcus pants. He doesn't pant like a man, but like a dog, with his tongue hanging out and a wild smile that isn't really a smile. His eyes are peeled wide, searching his surroundings. He tries to back up again, to reverse over the aggressors. It doesn't work, at least not at first. Why can't he make himself hit the gas? Except, he realizes, he can. Very slowly. He gets the car to move only when he slightly depresses the gas pedla. "Come on, come on, come on," he chants to himself, but for whatever reason, he can't bring himself to floor it. So instead of acting drastically, he just bellows out a yell as he very slowly rolls back towards the man with the gun. "COME ON!" Screaming at himself doesn't make himself go any faster, but he does it anyway, slamming his hands repeatedly on the steering wheel. "COME ON!" And if the guy doesn't move, he'll get very gently backed over.
Crunch. Crunch. The bat keeops coming down, over and over, each time the car getting dented more and more. Each strike making a mess of the vehicle as down the line the clerk goes, wheeling around to the back of the Bug, smashing the tail-light.
The man with the gun pulls the trigger again, after the woman, but it jams and he's left swearing.
It doesn't matter though. The kids can take up where the adults left off.
The boy, finds another stone, and he picks it up, makes a baseball pitch and puts that next rock all the way through the windshield.
The whole thing causes a jam up of traffic, as main street is full of chaos.
People start slamming on their horns, an old man throwing a cup with what must be the last of his left over shake out the window for it to fall shy, drops of icecream splattering up against the tires. "Get the fuck out. Just fucking go you shit..."
The other girl, is pulling out a cmamera taking vids now.
"It's easy to hear her saying next to it. Oh shit, Oh my god. Look at this shit. This dude is totally beating in this guys car. He looks like a fucking Pedo. HAha. You guys aren't gonna believe this. you really aren't. He's been here forever, and we're fucking sick of it. I hope they beat the shit out of him."
There's a flutter of air past Marcus's head though as the man swings in a blind rage, missing the man's head and cracking the end of the bat into the door frame. It splinters the wood up the length, and a bit of woody shards kiss the back of Marcus's neck even as the man tries to fumble with it, the bat getting tangled in the seatbelt causing the clerk to fall as he pulls to hard and it comes free with a jerk.
Marcus says "WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!"
Marcus absolutely /shrieks/ these six words. He tries opening the door and banging it against the clerk's head. He tries everything he can. He punches out the broken window, he grabs at what he can grab. He continually tries backing over whoever is close to his van -- though that seems to be difficult for him to do, for every time he tries to step too hard on the gas, his foot shifts to the brakes instead. He yells in frustration, and just starts bark-yelling again. It's an ugly sound, and one that he doesn't consciously make. It just erupts from his throat, again and again and again.
With every sound that comes from Marcus's mouth the intensity of the people around him only grows more chaotic, until the door clips the clerk, when he gets back up to continue the assault the man falling to the side and toppling the man who's been trying to get the gun unjammed.
the kids rush the car and the boy gets punched in the face with one of those flying struggles, blood spraying from his nose. His hand tries to grab at Marcus's hair, but he just can't manage to get a proper fist into the other's hair.
It makes the boy go wild even as the nails of his fingers claw down Marcus's cheek drawing out furrows from his face, before he has to jump back because the moving of the car in it's stops and starts .@line
No that car doesn't even twitch when it's angled to do more damage to the surrounding attackers, but it's the girl's hesitation that leaves a gap to shoot the van through.
Yet the marks of those fingers are clearly left to drip bloody trails along Marcus's neck.
A man on a motorcycle drives by, sees the chaotic scene and he fishtails whipping back around the crowd only to spray rocks, not at the car, but at the man attacking it as a gruff voice snarls out, "Come the fuck on."
It's probably help, but the man clearly has a SS tatted on his neck. Great, Skinheads.
Marcus stops barking for a moment to stare at the skinhead. Not what he was expecting, but help is help. Marcus tries to take advantage of this moment of distraction to peal away in his van -- if he can manage it without running into that stubborn foot that insists upon braking whenever he might /actually/ hurt someone.
"Are you fucking serious?" The boy says, getting out of the way of the car at the last moment though it runs over the boy's foot and he starts hurling curses at the vehicle that swings out of the way.
the Biker ratchets the thing up to fulls speed, and it near leaps into motion causing the few around the vehicle to move out of the way.
There's a quick look back, then the man's leaning over the harley, because of course, and he puts all the engine's power into speed, the heavy piece of machinery quickly pulling out in front of the van as if forming an escort.
He's somehow managing to talk on a radio he's slipped out of a pocket too, and after a moment another biker slides in beside the first, this one shorter.
the break is only short lived as a truck barrels out of a side street, sliding in behind the trio, and it starts to chase Marcus down, the man turning and pulling out a gun.
Shooting tires doesn't hurt anyone by itself.
And so, Biker one slows his vehicle down coming up alongside the van, and he gestures Marcus to speed up with the gun before he angles it back and begins shooting blindly.
Each bullet curves unnaturally accurate. The first one slugging the truck's front tire and causing it to go flat. Bits of rubber start to pull from it in strips with each moment of it going flat.
The next shot goes wide, but the third shot angles and hits the other tire, and the truck spins out crashing into a light post.
The second biker continues her dangerous pace, weaving around cars that try and cut Marcus off, and people who begin pouring out of buildings. A person here, A group of women there at a nail salon.
Everyone's in a frenzy, and it's only made worse by furious activity from the Gangers? saviors. It's unclear.
There's a loud reported and very unhappy, word from the Teen as he calls out, "Are you fucking serious?" The boy says, getting out of the way of the car at the last moment though it runs over the boy's foot and he starts hurling curses at the vehicle that swings out of the way.
the Biker ratchets the thing up to fulls speed, and it near leaps into motion causing the few around the vehicle to move out of the way.
There's a quick look back, then the man's leaning over the harley, because of course, and he puts all the engine's power into speed, the heavy piece of machinery quickly pulling out in front of the van as if forming an escort.
He's somehow managing to talk on a radio he's slipped out of a pocket too, and after a moment another biker slides in beside the first, this one shorter.
the break is only short lived as a truck barrels out of a side street, sliding in behind the trio, and it starts to chase Marcus down, the man turning and pulling out a gun.
Shooting tires doesn't hurt anyone by itself.
And so, Biker one slows his vehicle down coming up alongside the van, and he gestures Marcus to speed up with the gun before he angles it back and begins shooting blindly.
Each bullet curves unnaturally accurate. The first one slugging the truck's front tire and causing it to go flat. Bits of rubber start to pull from it in strips with each moment of it going flat.
The next shot goes wide, but the third shot angles and hits the other tire, and the truck spins out crashing into a light post.
The second biker continues her dangerous pace, weaving around cars that try and cut Marcus off, and people who begin pouring out of buildings. A person here, A group of women there at a nail salon.
Everyone's in a frenzy, and it's only made worse by furious activity from the Gangers? saviors. It's unclear.
Marcus screams wildly, wordlessly, a savage yell. He barrels forward through the street. He may not know what's going on, but he knows he has to get out of here -- he knows this is the epicenter of the trouble. His van is even uglier than it started out as, but it drives just fine, and if he can, he'll veer around bikers and ne'er-do-wells to try and zoom on home.
Cars swirve to try and get in the way, and one clips the front of the van. This driver however is different, and it's more than just general upset. This driver is experienced, and and the vehicle he's using is heavy, another truck.
The biker beside Marcus's vehicle has to cut a hard turn and slide his motorcycle off to the side, the tail, clipping the bumper and spinning the bike.
The biker, clearly a dude is thrown and he skids across the pavement, leather trousers cut up and torn with bloody trails running down his limbs when he tires to get up.
The second biker doesn't pay any attention other than to turn around and come back the other way turning to follow the first car and Marcus's van when it's near shoved into an alley way to crash there.
The door opens and out steps a man dressed up in combat gear, and a bag on his hip, a neutralizer inn one hand and a collar in the other. He starts to approach the vehicle nice and slow, until the biker jumps off their bike, much shorter of a person than originally thought, and they land near Marcus's door. "you're going to get out of your van and you're going to stay behind me. When I say you're going to fucking run, and head out of town not back in. Stay there a couple of days and then you're going to wait for me to call you."
The man pulls the pin on the strange granaed, and while it doesn't have an explosion there's an electromagnatic pulse from it when it hits the ground.
the Biker jumps back and just manages to gett far enough away before pulling off.... her helmet.
There's pink hair, way to pink hair to be natural, and when she smiles there's snake-like fangs in her mouth.
No time for further study though as she rushes dangerously fast forward and punches at the first man who's forced to jump back.
Another figure starts to climb out of the Van only to be grabbed from behind by the first guy, who starts to wrestle with the other behind the truck. it ends up with a loud bang, a bright flash, and a cloud of smoke and coughing to come from inside a haze of smoke.
Marcus is overwhelmed, but he is not too stupid to do what he is told by the strange, neon-haired woman. Out he goes from the beat-up van. He sticks close to the fanged woman, sticking behind her with all the chaos. He doesn't say anything this time. He doesn't even bark. He just whimpers, deep in his throat. Otherwise, he is silent, obedient, and attentive. He knows when he's in the presence of someone far more competent than he. He waits for the strange woman's cue, tense and rigid and ready to bolt.
A hunter, that's what it has to be judging by the man's willingness to go toe to toe with this woman. He makes to pull out another grenade cocking his arm back to throw it, just for all his gear to spark and fizzle out, the equipment going dead in his hands.
The man behind him tries to reach over the truck to grab the man from behind, only for a knife to sink into his forearm, the blade covered in a black oily substance which makes the man yank his hand back before he starts gritting his teeth, clearly poisoned.
The woman takes that chance to rush forward, and stab at the Hunter's belly. It lands and while it only pierces just through his armor, the force launches him back into the truck.
" Re--" A large explosion detinates then before bloody bits of human are sprayed everywhere, someone pushing the hail mary button and suiciding himself for the cause, the large biker thrown and landing in a heap somedistance away, the side of the truck charred and blackened by the sudden heat.
The pink haired woman pushes Marcus then before she dives back into it, kicking the other in the stomaach, briefly tying him up then running over towards her partner.
She picks him up way too easily and then they're running off into the smoke leaving Marcus to make his escape into the night.
Marcus absolutely bolts into the dark unknown, sprattered in things he doesn't want to be spattered in. He doesn't dare look back. Off he goes, cold and hugging his clothing to himself.