Good Run of Bad Lucky

Summary:
August 07 2014: Lucky comes across a mugger in the Park. Thomas Nashoba wishes very much that he had not.

Bronx Park

Not quite as large, nor as Central as the other Park, the Bronx Park still offers nice open spaces and a bit of green to relax in. Also muggings. And people who won't die.


Characters

NPCs

  • Mugger
  • NYPD

Mood Music:
[* None]


It's kind of amazing how many parks Thomas finds himself in. Today he's actually just crossing it to get back to his car. Parking can be such a pain in this city. That's when he hears the gunshots ring out. He's just got off duty and is no city cop but… okay, this just isn't happening right now. His service pistol finds it's way into his hand and he begins to run toward the sound of the gunfire.

"Hey! US MARSHALS!" He calls to announce his presence.

*

Thomas's arrival is just in time to see a man in blue jeans and a white shirt take a shot right to the heart, visibly killing him instantly. The bloodied mess of a man falling into a crumpled pile his shirt completely blood-soaked and riddled with holes, a bloody grin across his heavily scarred face. The gunman turns to face the man, still holding onto the pistol with a look of terror on his face. "Hey this isn't what it looks like, he ain't normal man," his hands shaking somewhat, as the would-be robber points the gun back over towards the bloodied body on the ground.

*

"Oh." Thomas says dryly as his gun covers the armed man. "So you haven't shot him repeatedly then. Tell me, did he attack you? Maybe you've shot him… five times in self defense? And just killed him? Put the gun down. Now." That last part, it's not a suggestion. The cops can sort this out but he's not gonna deal with an armed man. And on the off chance that the other guy is the aggressor… there are ways to deal with that too.

*

"I'm not putting this gun down till I know that thing is dead," The man says absolutely terrified pointing his gun right towards the man on the ground. "I-i-i was self defense ye-yeah," the look in this mans eyes is one of pure fear, his hand and voice shaking far too much for him to be getting off any sort of clean shot.

*

"Uh huh. Well, tell you what. Back away slowly and put the gun down. I'm not gonna let it kill you. Or hurt you. Or assault you. Besides, the way your hand is shaking, I don't want you popping off. You're not gonna hit anything you aim at right now." Thomas sighs, moving slightly so he can intervene in either direction if necessary.

*

A sudden sharp breath comes from the body on the ground, the chest surging up slightly, and falling back to the ground. "Let me clue you in on a little something" The visibly dead man from just a few moments ago calls out sounding somewhat groggy but otherwise perfectly fine. Lucky pushes himself back to a stand, wiping the blood from his face, saying right in "Never shoot a man you can't kill" the mans voice calls out tauntingly, as he comes to a full stand, shaking himself awake after wiping the last of the blood from his eyes.

*

Thomas has seen some crazy crap as Justice' agent and a US Marshal, but that one takes the cake. "Okay… sir…" There's an instant where he wonders if he shouldn't be channeling right now, but he holds back.

"Don't move. Can either of you tell me what's going on here?"

*

The would be mugger looks right towards Lucky and starts to raise his gun, but a single look from Lucky causes him to fumble dropping the gun to the ground. "Th-th-that ain't right" He calls out thinking about making a run for it before remembering the martial "You ain't fucking human man".

"Ankle biter shot me," Lucky looking the robber right in the eyes, as he stretches slightly, as if having just woken up from a rather unpleasant nap. "Wasn't man enough to do the job right," He finally looks over towards Thomas, his face covered in scars.

*

"Shot you, did he?" He saw him do it at least once. Thomas' gun is not going away yet, but he does take a hand away to call 911, letting it ring while he continues to ask questions.

"I see. And why did you do that?"

*

"Th-this fucking freak was ge-getting in my face shouting at me, and steppin' all o-" The man starts trying to sound tough only to stammer his way past over half of his words as he tries to speak. He gets about halfway through what he's trying to say before he gets interrupted by lucky who actually looks about ten years younger then the man who was trying to rob him.

"Kid pick your words carefully, or you'll be the one going home in a body bag" Lucky speaking in a rather cold, and harsh voice, though now that he's gotten himself back to his senses his idle stance looks the kind to have been honed through a lifetime of military service.

*

Okay. This is getting out of hand. "Nine One One? Yes hello, this is Marshal Thomas Nashoba, off duty. I need a police response to my location quickly. Assault and altercation. Thank you. No, no one's in immediate danger. Stay on the line though please."

There's an instant where Thomas is Thomas. Then, suddenly, his clothing has changed. He's wearing a duster and a wide brimmed hat and there's a glowing star-like badge on the chest of his coat. He still has his gun though.

"Alright, seriously, both of you stand down. I get that someone did something bad here but we can be calm about this. Right?"

Out of nowhere a large black dog with glowing red eyes bounds to Thomas' side.

*

The older gentleman just falls over onto his back, out of shock from what he's just seen, the man obviously not getting out too much. He backs away from the dog, holding an arm over his eyes.

"Well I'll be" Is all Lucky manages to say, turning a bit to look over at the large dog the quick moment of surprise passing over quickly. "You're a super then," he asks as more of a statement then a real question looking between the man and his dog, keeping his hands visible.

*

"Sorta." Thomas confirms with a nod. "Sir, calm down no one is going to hurt you." The marshal address the other man. Arrest him, possibly, but not hurt him. "Look, the cops are going to be here soon, but why don't you tell me what happened Mister…?" That's right. He hasn't had a chance to get Lucky's name yet. "Lazarus?" He finally guesses with a smirk.

Thomas has lowered his gun by this point, not pointing it at either man now that the danger seems to have passed.

*

"Lieutenant Colonel Jason Lucky" Lucky responds giving Thomas the once over as blood continues to drip down from his once nice white shirt and bluejeans. Though he doesn't have any visible wounds other then scars that look months or years old. He almost looks more as if he's looking through Thomas then at him with that sort of thousand yard stare. The man on the ground however doesn't seem even able to move as he speaks.

*

"Recently retired then?" This guy looks really young to be an O-5. But stranger things have happened, Thomas knows. He's certainly got the look of a recently returned vet. They all kind of… get that stare. What a fascinating modern age we live in, mmm?

"You're looking pretty spry for someone I could have sworn was dead. I take it you've a talent for recovery?" Thomas doesn't out and out ask if he's a mutant or a meta, though the conclusion seems logical.

*

"I died in the jungles of nam, plenty of times" He starts off, looking back over towards the man on the ground, thinking before carrying on "Death doesn't work on me like it used to,". He can't seem to decide weather or not he wants to walk over towards the man on the ground or not, but the robber seems intent on antagonizing him within. "No way you where in that war you fucking crazy".

*

Thomas seems inclined to agree, though he steps between Lucky and the other guy. "You do seem a bit young to have been in 'nam. Though…" Though given what he just saw he's not prepared to just dismiss it out of hand. "So you just get back up? Keep on tickin'. Man, I can think of a few lines of work that'd probably be useful for."

*

"You want to try it out?" Lucky asks, turning back to face Thomas, holding his arms out to either side. "Shoot me anywhere you want" He says rather bluntly taking a step foreword "Slit throat, decapitation, toss me off a building, whatever you want" Unless stopped he just keeps walking closer. "I can still feel it though"

*

"Uh no. I'm fairly sure I'm good on that score. If you don't mind just… stay over there." Thomas is not eager to have to shoot the man and he seems… lucid? Maybe. Sirens sound in the distance. Thank goodness. People to turn this over to.

"So he attacked you, hrm? Will you be okay giving a statement to the cops? I know they'll want one since a gun was involved. And you were pretty badly hurt." Though proving that might be an issue.

*

"What do you want me to tell em?" Lucky starting to turn back away as he hears the sirens wailing. "Hi I'm a seventy something war vet who doesn't stay dead, I only look like I'm young" He starts looking about the park, trying to think of a good direction to go take a running start for, "They'd lock me up, and experiment on me".

"Hey, I-i-i-i'll go to jail, if it ki-ki-keeps me away from this freak," The man on the ground says still weary of the rather large dog that's only a few feet away from him. Still in a bit of shock from shooting someone multiple times only to have them keep standing up.

Well that makes things easy. And 911 is still on the line as the squad cars pull up and police officers pile out. "Well in that case, sir, you can explain it all to the nice officers on the way here now."

Thomas holsters his gun and spends the obligatory few minutes identifying himself and explaining the situation to the officer in charge. When he's done, the young man looks around to see if 'Lucky' is still about. The light has faded from him and his clothes have returned to normal, as has his dog.

The officer in charge, Officer Blake, comes on over toward Lucky. "Sir, I'm sorry. But since we have a couple of stories and there's an altercation and such involved I need to cuff you and put you in one of our cars and take you on down to the station to straighten this out." Standard procedure. He's probably gonna get released really, but there are formalities and procedures to be followed.

*

"Lead the way officer" Lucky starts his voice sounding somewhat distant as he speaks a large number of obvious bullet holes, in his clothing the blood covering over weather the man is actually wounded barring the fact that he's still standing. When the officer goes to put the handcuffs on Lucky however instead of allowing them to clamp down, the man ducks suddenly going into a quick run for the side of an overpass bridge in the park.

*

"Oh for the love of-" Thomas is off in a moment. "Hey! Buddy! Don't make this worse, c'mon!" Something's got this guy spooked and suddenly Thomas day off isn't a day off anymore. Now he's chasing someone running from the police and he has to be a biiiiiit careful because Lucky's not wanted by the Marshals which means he can't just sic Virgil on him. Fortunately he's not alone in giving chase even if he is, depressingly, the fastest runner of the group who is.

Running as if his life depended on it that sudden burst of speed kicking in from the adrenaline Lucky doesn't see himself in the park anymore. For him it's may 1969, and he's running for that hill, bodies falling left and right artillery slamming into the ground, the rattle of machine gun fire filling the air. He can hear the screams of his men, feel dust and debris on his skin, for him he is there. He dives over the side of the bridge, and hits the ground with a roll and just keeps trying to make it to the top of that hill without getting torn to shreds.

Thomas doesn't waste any time, instead cutting a corner off the running path to try to make a tackle on the fleeing Lucky. Good lord above if nothing else this guy seems to need some serious help. And of course, running from the cops doesn't exactly make you look innocent.

*

The sudden slam into his side is enough to knock Lucky back to reality. "Let go of me!" He calls out the death destruction and horror of war suddenly slamming back to the calm almost deafening quiet of reality. The rushed footsteps of the officers making their way over towards the two. It's obvious that he doesn't have any sort of superhuman strength, or speed, or even really healing powers by the way he's cut himself up on the landing managing to roll his way through a bit of broken glass.

*

"Stop… hey… knock. It. Off!" Thomas has a hell of a time keeping the squirming Lucky down all the same, forcing his arm behind his back as the other officers rush up and take over. Once he's got, like, three of New York's finest on him, the Marshal takes a step back and lets them do their thing.

"Probably need to take him to a hospital… though I don't need to tell you that." One of the busy officers tosses a nod Tommy's way.

*

"I'm no ones pin cushion dammit," Lucky calls out sounding rather displeased about the situation to say the least. "I'm not going to no research lab" His voice raising somewhat as he's forcibly lifting up onto his feet, "I was a war hero dammit"

*
Oy. Thomas doesn't envy those officers. Nor the EMTs who will now have to transport him. Nope. Not. One. Bit. 9.39a hold for Lucky it seems to be. Guy may or may not need some… therapy. Well, it's not his issue now. "Hey, calm down. They're just taking you to get checked out."

*

As Lucky's taken away by the three officers, soon joined by a fourth and a fifth when the war hero schtick is brought into the picture for their own safety Lucky calls out, "You can't just arrest a guy for being shot". The older gentleman having already been thrown into the back of a squad car to be taken to the station for questioning.

*

Well, he'll probably end up being cleared. The cops don't have any reason to hold him. Even a 9.39a would be a stretch here. Still, again, not Thomas' problem. And he really does hope the guy feels better. Somehow.

*

Lucky is placed in the back of a squadcar much like the other man involved in the crime itself that had taken place, and left behind are a number of officers who have the fun task of identifying the absolutely ludicrous amounts of blood spilled everywhere. In the end they'll receive more questions then answers with all of the blood belonging to one man, who's fingerprints match those of someone reportedly dead in a traffic accident.


Back to: RP Logs

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License