No Hard Feelings

August 07, 2014: Domino's out making friends as usual. Amazingly, one of them doesn't want her dead. Fancy them odds. (Language/violence)

Upper East Side, Manhattan

Generally this is a rather nice part of town.



  • A few random armed goons.

Mood Music:

It's just another day in the Big Apple. Hot, humid, sun's been out in full force since eight in the morning. For some people (including Domino) the sun and the heat aren't an issue, even with copious amounts of black. Attire, armaments, automobiles, and all things transparent and tintable. Air conditioning is amazing, her BMW's all too happy to put icicles on the seatbacks if she feels the need for a little Arctic comfort. She could spend the day inside of her blacked out coccoon, though business of all nature calls.

She's not alone in that regard. As the BMW starts to pass through an intersection there's the sudden revving of an SUV's engine, timing it so the bigger vehicle, complete with a rammer bar welded onto the front, collides with the German sedan at speed and swats it off of the road. Over the curb and across the sidewalk, it comes to rest crumpled against a brick wall of a nearby building. With that one impact it seems to be suffering almost as much as the car, itself.

What little traffic that had been present quickly either speeds up to get out of the way or comes to a dead halt, steam hissing out from the wounded car's hood.

The SUV handled the collision much better. It's still highly mobile, and revving its engine for another run at the blacked out sedan.


Only luck should have it that Evelyn is already on the scene. Just a few moments ago, she was sitting a few cars back in another lane on her motorcycle. She's clad in full rider gear, a black leather one piece suit with a zipper up the front and a white helmet. To deal with the heat, the zipper is pulled down to expose skin from the tanktop underneath. Fuck, it's hot.

With the telltale sign of engine revving, Evelyn looks up just in time to see the bigger SUV crunch the smaller BMW. At least, she's able to see as much as she can with several other cars in the way, but it's not difficult to infer the situation from squealing tires and the sound of scraping metal. Hopping off her bike, Evelyn unbuttons the back saddlebag, removing a decent sized folding stock machine gun.
Stepping away from her bike, no one's in a particular hurry to zoom around her or really be in this situation. In a quick walk, she moves to try to get to the sidewalk and see what's happening.


More screeching of tires, more crashing of metal and cracking of safety glass. Then there's the somewhat muffled sound of explosions as the lone occupant within the BMW opens fire on the SUV as it tries to flatten what remains of the car, which quickly puts the remaining bystanders from feelings of bewilderment and awe (and 'oh my god this is so going on the internet!') to running and fleeing after the others with some sense of self-preservation.

Shots claim one of the bigger vehicle's headlights, perforating the grill and one of the front tires. Still it tries to press its own attack, the engine growling as it struggles to power right over the lesser car. Despite the damage it's taking it seems to be succeeding in its mission, first claiming the hood then rolling up onto the roof. Just as quickly the shots switch from going through the car's door to going straight through the roof, peppering the truck that seems too stubborn to die.

Kinda like both of the drivers.


Coming into view of the situation, Evelyn quickly takes stock of the situation. She doesn't dare remove the motorcycle helmet because that's atleast one more mode of protection, though the darkened visor likely obscures her identity. It appears to her that the black SUV is causing additional damage to the car and the car is acting defensively, even if they're both batshit crazy. Probably the best decision at the moment would be to disable the SUV to prevent it from actually -crushing- the smaller car.

After deciding this is the best decision after not even a second of consideration, Eve unfolds the stock to her MPK and braces it against her shoulder. It doesn't look very intimidating, but it does look incredibly modified. New barrel, body material, clip, muzzle. The modifications become apparent after she pulls the trigger. The muzzle flash off this weapon is incredible, and it is -loud-. For such a small, rapidfire calibre, it blows pretty considerable bullet holes into the side of the SUV's engine. It also looks like it takes quite a bit of effort to handle the recoil, and as such, the anonymous motorcycle rider fires in short bursts.


It's not easy to see through those black tinted windows, on either of the vehicles. What glass still remains. More on the SUV, which also has more doors, and more people lurking inside. One side turns into a bloodbath when the biker makes her presence known, making half of the interior a bit more red than grey. Meat shields -are- fairly effective however, sparing half of its occupants from most of the onslaught.

The driver's taken out, leaving the mighty truck to idle half atop of the BMW like a snake that just tried to swallow more than it could handle.

The shooting from within the crushed car has stopped, whether due to running out of ammo, the driver not making it through, or some other means. The three guys spilling out of the far side of the truck suddenly don't seem quite so concerned, using the mangled pair of autos as cover as they return fire. One with a 9mm SMG, one with an M4 carbine. Their current target is the woman with the vivid white helmet. It makes for an easy target, even if she -is- armed!


Evelyn sprays the vehicle again as men file out of the SUV. Are they armed? What are they wearing? Hopefully they're smart enough to engage this person that's obviously really freaking armed, even if it's only with an MPK, at least as far as they can tell. Then the return fire comes. Yikes! Little spots of concrete and brick fly around her as the bullets hit various walls and the ground.

Immediately she bolts behind a nearby postal box, hiding in the shadow of a protective blue dropoff point afforded to her at this moment by the great US Postal Service. What more could she ask from the good old red white and blue? "Police!" she shouts, "Put down your weapons —" Her voice is a little muffled from the helmet, so she raises the visor, though she's still hidden behind the postal box. "Put down your weapons and come out with your hands in the air! … Please!"


"'Please?' Did that one really just say 'please?'" the SMG-holder grins between automatic bursts from his smaller weapon. "Sure thing honey, we'll drop ours if you drop yours first!"

The exchange of words and automatic fire buys someone else a little time, still squirming about within the mangled remains of her car. It buys her enough time to dig something out of hiding, along with a roll of duct tape, then attach the former with the latter directly onto the crumpled roof.

Fortunately Domino's small enough that she can fold herself into the interior footwell.


Every piece of glass between the two vehicles, and several more on the nearby buildings, gets blasted into fragments as the front of the SUV suddenly lurches up and away from the BMW, most of the engine suddenly missing from the hood as the mangled remains perform one last backward roll onto the roof.

The guy holding the M4 is no more, now resembling a pin cushion more than an armed gunman. Mister SMG's wounded but mobile, and now missing his cover. With a yell he empties the weapon's remaining shots in Evelyn's direction as he turns to run like hell.


Evelyn flinches at the explosion, "Shit!" She yells out in surprise, covering her head as bits of smoking metal and glass rain down on her, traffic, and plink off of various surfaces. She's just about to peek over the mailbox to see what's happened when a few more bullets bounce off her cover. At least one carving out the edge of her helmet. A close one!

Ducking low to look around the edge, Ev catches just a glimpse of the man turning tail to run. Quickly she brings about the weapon and fires a quick burst to shoot out his legs from under him. Strike?


Strike! With an acute yelp the remaining gunman stumbles and falls, his SMG sliding toward the gutter as he rolls onto his side and clutches his perforated calf.

It's about at this moment when a small, twitching figure in black crawls out of the ruined and spatially reduced BMW's window, promptly falling to the sidewalk then unrolling onto her back. She's managed to drag two sidearms out of the wreckage as well, both looking quite empty.

Not that she seems to care. She's too busy staring up at the cloudless sky, -laughing.-

Between having been shot and having missed their original psychotic target the last man tries, and fails, to get back onto his feet. Then he tries to crawl somewhere, anywhere, in the hopes of making himself disappear. Who wants to get busted after a failed hit in the middle of the city?


Evelyn doesn't immediately go after the failed hit-guy. She taps her helmet long enough to give a couple coordinates and then is darting out from behind her cover towards the wreckage. Her MPK is still in her hand, though the safety is on. When she stops, she's standing over you, watching you laugh. Perhaps her identity won't be immediately recognisable given that her visor and chest are the only things visible.

"Are you okay?" Evelyn says with some kind of immediate urgency. She did just get hit with an SUV - multiple times - and shot at.


(Something just blocked out the light. What just blocked out the l - oh, it's talking.)

Domino's seen better days. Without her armor to block most of the damage she's gotten battered plenty, and it appears that this isn't the first time this week that she's sustained a respectable amount of personal injury. Or the week before.

"Never better," she deadpans while trying to peel herself up off of the cement, complete with a grimace. "Turns out claymores are pretty damn useful against Chevy's, too. Who knew."

That whole 'this side toward enemy' thing really comes in handy sometimes.

"Now where the hell did you come from," she inquires while rubbing the side of her head with the side of a pistol. "Last I heard I didn't have any guardian angels out there."

(And -who- are you, for that matter? I swear that voice is familiar…)


The leather-clad figure holsters the MPK. The stock snaps shut with an audible click as it locks into place. Reaching up, both hands grab the sides of the helmet and slowly work it off. This reveals Evelyn's face and her messy motorcycle-helmet hair, bright eyes, and worried expression. "That wouldn't be the first time I've been called a guardian angel."

Reaching out, Ev offers her hand to Domino. "Need a hand?" No hard feelings? Ev only shot Domino a couple times. Being a backstabbing bitch is just part of the job description. "I have medical supplies in my bike.."




There are some times where it's really not comforting to be out of bullets, the first softly hissed thought from the albino starting with "Ssssssh" and ending with "it."

Except that there aren't any threatening motions. Is that -concern?-

Looking up at the other woman with a frown, Domino holsters one of the bulky sidearms then accepts the offered hand. With more than a little caution. After that whole warehouse incident a few weeks back…

"A ride out of here takes priority, if you can trust me not to stab you in the back along the way. What's got you so damn chipper, Ev? Last time you tried to eviscerate me with my own Mossberg."


With a bit of a pull, Ev pulls Domino up to her feet. "That's…" She pauses for a moment, looking apprehensive but definitely not hostile. "I.. had to." Whether or not Domino acknowledges it, her status as a contagion meant she -needed- to be taken care of one way or the other.

"Right now probably isn't the best time to get into our feelings, but.. here." Reaching into her pocket, Ev pulls out a set of keys and offers them palm up.


That's one nice thing about dealing with a mercenary. Domino's quite familiar with 'do X at all costs.' She's said it countless times herself: It's just a job.

And now it's a free offer for a vehicle. Once again her pale blue eyes stare back at Evelyn, yet she takes the keys all the same. "I'm dying to know what the catch is but I don't have time to get into it." (And for the love of God don't you dare tell me -you owe me one.-)

With a limp in her step she starts heading toward the bike, reloading her sidearms as she goes. With that last guy from the SUV at large she's got a strong feeling that this isn't over yet. That, and whatever the rebound is for getting the timely assistance.

In her line of work there are no freebies.

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