Meet the Fiver

Summary:
March 15, 2015: Following a potential lead about his brother, Mikial and Rain run into a very unexpected zombie.

Outside an IHOP - New York City

It's the parking lot of an IHOP. There's pancakes.


Characters

NPCs

  • Baldilocks
  • Tall, Lanky Dude

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


Mikial/Spearhead is walking down the street, he has asked Rain if she wanted to come with him. He is in his out and about clothes, and he's tracking down a license plate number that he has been informed that May lead him to his brother, who got his family killed. Mikial turns to Rain, "Hungry at all? I know we rushed out of the house pretty quick , did you get to grab anything to eat before we left?" He asks, seeing the Ihop they were walking towards.

Rain is helping, though she's wearing a long, black duster coat (eat your heart out, Red Dead Redemption. Also flying in skirts and t-shirts is a terrible idea). She is only using a little magic here and there. "A little. And don't worry too much." The witch is abjectly terrible about remembering to eat some days. "We can grab something here." Pause. "Hey, is that someone hiding around that truck?"

It's a lovely, warmish, unusually sunny afternoon for New York in March. The city is bustling, the optimists are wearing shorts, and spring seems just around the corner.

A particular IHOP in Queens is especially busy this fine afternoon. Every two or three minutes a new customer pulls into the crowded parking lot, while a bloated one stumbles out the front door and staggers off toward his or her car.

Ah, America.

The truck Rain has so helpfully pointed out is a large grey and tan SUV with black tented windows. it is parked at the corner of the building, out of sight from most of the parking lot, and has a rather short, balding man in a business suit standing at the door trying to pop the lock with a coat hanger. An equally suited, though much taller and less balding man, is standing near the back of the vehicle acting as look out. Nobody in the parking lot seems to have noticed them yet. These two men look suspiciously unbloated for people just leaving an HIHOP, and they can't be seen through the plate glass windows in the front of the establishment.

Whoever owns that cart is likely to be unhappy that people are messing with it.

Mikial puts a hand in his pocket, and vectors his path to go close to the car, and look like he's just going to pass by them, but just as he passes the lookout, he spinns, takeing a telescopic police baton out of his pocket, flicking it out, and taking the man into a chokehold, pressing the baton right on the mans windpipe at the base of his neck, "That your car, bub? Better be with you trying to pop the lock on it."

On the other hand, there is such a thing as mistaken identity. Rain blinks as Mikial does his thing. Her eyes widen. She is clearly less experienced about figuring out who is popping locks (or dropping it like it's hot or whatever kids do these days). She just stays behind Mikial, acting as back up and watching for the others. If the other man starts to move, she will move.

The noise that escapes the short, balding man could best be described as a 'BLAGHK!'. Something like a mix between a gasp, a choke, and a indignant 'what the hell?' all rolled into one.

"BLGHK!" exclaims baldy as his short but solid body is tugged backward into a choke hold. The coat hangar is left sticking out of the base of the SUV's window as balding releases it and flexes surprisingly powerful neck and shoulders under his frumpy suit coat. One hairy-knuckled hand lifts to try and grip the baton, while the other dives into his right coat pocket, groping for something.

Balding's partner is a bit more vocal.

"What the fuck?" Grunts the tall, lean man in his black suit and sunglasses. Whirling about, the square-jawed fellow sizes up the situation in an eye blink,right hand darting under his suit jacket toward his left armpit. He'll be damned if he stands around while Dog Tags and the fucking Matrix (as he has dubbed the two heroes standing before him) beat up on Balding.

Whoever these goons are they aren't going to go quietly. That, or they do owned this truck and they don't take kindly to random people putting them in choke holds.

Mikial notices 'Balding' reaching for something, "Bad answer." He crushes the mans airway with the baton and reaches into for his own 45 and in one smooth motion, flicks the safety off, chambers a round, and aims it at the other man, "Want to rethink what you're doing?" Mikial waits for so much as a hint of a twitch from the other man that may indicate he will fire, planning to shoot before he's shot.

Well, that escalated quickly. "Um. Is this your truck?" She decides to go for the straight forward approach, but she is still very much on Mikial's side. Although she is blissfully onaware of her new nickname. On the other hand, if it IS their truck, this is awfully suspicious. Actually, she has a better idea. "Oh, hell." Why not a sleep spell? She's a freaking wi— tch, Harry.

Rain's magic is subtle. She doesn't have to do anything but stare peacefully. But it'll take a moment or two. The downside is, she does have to keep the concealed twin pistols she has on her. Because no one takes you seriously with a 12 inch wand.

As this small time incident quickly starts to escalate out of control, Balding grunts, his short but stout body tense as he holds the baton away from his throat one handed. Still groping about in his coat pocket, he throws his sparsely haired head backward toward Mikial's chin once, twice, three times, trying to get him to slacken the hold on his throat with some good old fashioned street fighting.

meanwhile, Mr. tall sunglasses is just managing to slip the Glock 19 from his shoulder rig as Dog Tags levels the big .45 on him. Sunglasses is no chump, however, and continues to lift the gun. He isn't, however, aiming for Dog Tags. Oh no. Hell no. He has eyes only for Matrix. The gun comes up and he opens his mouth.

"Freesth…" He starts to shout, though part way through the exclamation he starts to sag. Staring at Rain through his sunglasses, his fingers start to slacken and he pitches forward toward the concrete. He doesn't manage to get a shot off, luckily. Though lucky for who is hard to say.

And then the butterfly knife clears Balding's coat pocket, already open and ready. And, still struggling to keep the baton away from his throat, he attempts to drive the knife back and down into Dog Tag's hip, or thigh, or whatever he can reach. he isn't aiming very well at this stage in his strangulation.

Baldy's head bashing only manages to piss Mikial off, Mikial throwsthe two of them into the side of the truck, useing baldy as padding. As Mikial sees tall shady point the gun at Rain, he is sent into a relm of livid that will be lingering for some time after this is through. The knife finds Mikial, mikial grits his teeth and thrusts the man away, pulling the gun on him and immidiately pumping five rounds into the mans chest, then he picks the men up by the collar and slams him down onto the ground, regaurdless of if he's stabbed again or not. "You just fucked up." Mikial pushes off the ground, useing Baldies head for support and then kicks the man in the head. This is probably the most violent Rain has seen him, And this may be a bit shocking to see him doing what he was more-or-less trained to do, though, this is a picknic compared to what he has done.

"…" That's not good. Er. "Wait, why is he yelling freeze? Hey, it's - okay, stop." Rain is trying to calm Mikial down, although, shit. Gunshots. "Let's… get out of here." Hopefully there's no cameras or whatever. Sigh. Some dude is being killed. "Look, I'll mend him, put him to sleep and we'll go. This is not what we came here for." They were following a trai. "How badly are you hurt?" She asks Mikial.

'THONK!'

Sunglass's forehead smacks the pavement, his gun clattering off across the parking lot from limp fingers. Face down, the lean agent starts to snore softly, sunglasses at an odd angle under his scraped face.

'WUMPF, POWPOWPOWPOWPOW…THONK BMPH.

The sounds of Balding getting the hell killed out of him are pretty brutal. First he impacts the side of the SUV, setting the heavy vehicle to rocking back and forth. Then, after managing to stabb Dog Tags, he forces the crazy ass man to get off his back. That is good, but getting shot in the back 5 times is not. With blood spurting from the exit wounds in his chest, Balding starts to slide down the blood smeared, bullet-pocked door of the SUV. But before he can fall peacefully to the ground he is picked up, smashed into the pavement, and brutally kicked in the head.

It isn't a good day to be Balding.

In fact, it isn't a good day to be ANYONE standing in the vicinity of this particular tan SUV.

Inside the IHOP, a fork full of eggs stops just shy of an open mouth surrounded by grey and brown hair. The sounds of gunshots, and the corner of a tan SUV rocking back and forth in the wide glass windows, have caught the attention of something.

The fork full of eggs hits the plate with a soft clatter, and chair legs scrape across the floor as a looming shadow unfolds itself from a table. A 20 dollar bill falls to the table, and the shadow is on the move. Not in any particular hurry, but it will be out the door in moments.

Mikial stands glareing at the man who managed to fall asleep, "He was going to shoot you…" Mikial squats down, and whispers through his teeth, "Your are a lucky bastard, if this was anywhere less public, I'd show you torture that'd make you envy your friend over there!" Mikial stands up, putting the gun in its holster. He looks at the hole in his body, "It's small, it'll heal in no time." he answers Rain.

"… really." Rain rubs her face, unaware of the looming doom that is coming their way. "This is so bad. I'm sorry I pointed this out." Sigh. She really has to learn to speak up. "Easy. I can fend for myself. I appreciate your protectiveness, but let's - just - not. No torture and no further violence." Then she looks to Mikial. "If you're sure. Now, let's - get out of here. I don't think people are going to handle gunshots in the IHOP parking lot well." That's an understatement. "I should probably put him down with a sleeping spell and at least stabilize him before we go…" Really, murder is kind of bad. A little. But even if he's stabilized and they start to go, that still leaves one OMINOUSLY LOOMING GUY coming in. She's going to lead him back and away. Baldilocks won't be fully healed, but if he's not dead, at least he won't bleed out and die.

And why, you ask, does Rain not teleport? … because it usually ends in people wearing drag, being naked or covered in chocolate syrup. That is why.

The IHOP's front door swings open with the soft 'swish', followed by the quiet crunch of boots on gritty pavement as someone heavy steps out of the restaurant and starts to make their way toward the tan and grey SUV. The steps slow as whoever it is notices Sunglasses lying sprawled on the ground, his Glock lying a few feet away in the shadow of a powder blue mini van.

The footsteps come ever closer, and then a tall, even slightly taller than Mikial, man steps around the back of the SUV. Wearing loose-fitting casual clothes, the man none-the-less oozes fighting vibes all over the place. His pale skin is dotted with pocks and scars, there are thick patches of scar tissue over his knuckles, and the fact he is staring down at the blood-smeared and bullet-pocked door of his SUV with a mild frown rather than fear rounds off the scary man package. That, and he is clearly not a healthy person. Bruised sockets, milky white corpse eyes, greyish skin…He, kinda looks like a zombie.

"Hrrrrrm." the zombie grumbles in a deep, annoyed baritone. Boots continuing to crunch over the pavement he approaches the not quite dead body of Balding lying beside the driver door of his truck. His dead eyes focus down on the man, pensive. After a moment he directs his attention up to the coat hangar sticking out the base of the driver's window.

"Fuckin' idiots." Mutters the man, big left hand lifting to scratch at the dark blue 5 partially hidden under his tangled hair. He doesn't seem to have noticed anyone retreating from the scene.

Mikail Stays with Rain, pamling his gun incase the man decides to try to hurt her. Rain was kind, he though to himself, but maybe too kind sometimes. though, If she wern't so kind, he may not be alive himself… Weather they are still there with Rain healing or finnished and walking away, Mikial turns to the man, who seems a better candidiate for being the owner, "You the owner? Sorry 'bout the damage, send me the bill."

Rain pauses. She is a nice person. It's how she do. And she'd really rather avoid leaving a trail of corpses if she can help it. Sure, sometimes it really DOES come to that (lookin' at you, vampires cruising high school lots), but c'mon. She looks to Mikial and follows him back. "Er, yeah, sorry. We saw them doing their thing and asked what was up…" Sorta. Ish. Technically. She tried.

Fiver grunts mildly in reply to Mikial and Rain's greetings. Removing his hand from his forehead tattoo, he idly reaches down to pluck the hangar from his window.

"Money ain't the issue here." the zombie rumbles as he turns calmly about to face the two heroes. Flinging the hangar away, it bounces happily across the ground as the ragged-looking man eyes Mikial and Rain up and down. "Problem is, I've torn folks arms off for less than this. When you got a reputation like that, you got to cultivate it."

Tilting his head back, Fiver shifts his blank eyes to stare off pensively into the middle distance, tangled hair falling back from the 5 and accompanying barcode tattooed across his forehead.

Isn't there a mercenary with some sort of cheesy 5 gimmick? Fiving? Fiver? Five man? Something like that. Maybe Fivy! Whoever it is, maybe he's well enough known for one of these two to recognize the symbol on his forehead. High end body guard duty, kidnapping, terrorism. Whatever he's paid to do usually gets done.

Balding lets out a gurgling snore at the mercenary's feet.

Mikials demenor changes again, back to protective, "Get home." Is all he says to Rain, no name, no proper nouns, he isn't gonna give this guy any hints as to who Rain is or where she lives. "Well, I guess thats a problem between you and me then…" He positions himself between the man and Rain.

Blink. Rain pauses. "Er, and just ditch you? No way. Relax. We saw these two guys digging around with a hanger and asked what was up. One's asleep, the other's near dead and partially asleep," Rain remarks. She'd been homeless a couple of years. She's vaguely familiar with some known mercenaries but mostly in the 'gtfo and don't be near any warehouses they are taking out' sense.

"So I suspect if anyone owes you limbs, you should talk to the two gentlemen. They even pulled a knife and stabbed this guy." She's deliberately vague. Like a politican in a jello and oil wrestling pit. She doesn't seem to think ill of the man for it, violet eyes peering up intently. A job's a job and she supposes even an undead-American needs income (right?). The symbol seems familiar, and even if it's not, it could mean anything from 'leaves no less than 5 corpses behind' to 'does things in 5s' or 'just really wanted a tattoo of the number 5'. Who is she to judge? Rain is no yama, no arbiter.

"HRMP." Fiver grunts idly, attention dropping back down to Mikial and Rain as they each take very different tacks to try and keep things friendly. For the most part his expression does not change, blank eyes continuing to stare and gaunt features turned down in a slight frown. The change in posture once again hides his tattoo, his dirty grey and brown hair falling back down across his scarred forehead.

"Should Probly leave all the talkin' to the girl." grumbles the zombie, deep voice completely flat and dead pan as his eyes focus on Rain, "There are some folks in this world that you just cain't alpha your way past. They'll just leave ya with a busted head and no regrets. But I think the girl has the right of it."

Head shaking almost sadly, the mercenary allows his attention to drift down to balding lying at his feet. he seems to consider the half dead man for a moment. His bloody suit jacket, the holes in his blue shirt. He stares into the man's drawn, jowlly face covered in grey stubble. Then, casually, he lifts his broad shoulders in an easy shrug.

"Tell ya what. You two shit heads run along." Fiver offers even as he stoops down to grab Balding by the throat. "I'll just take these two on home, and we can forget that this cluster fuck pulled me away from a damn good omelet." As he finishes speaking the mercenary straightens, hauling balding into the air one handed. Holding the man a foot off the ground without apparent effort, he eyes the heavy old fellow up and down while strangling the remaining life from him.

Mikial snort-scoffs, btu ends up nodding, and giving a momentary admiration at Rain, "Hmm, You have a point, and yeah, she has a big heart, and good head on her shoulders, if only more of us were like her, eh?" WHen the mans offer comes up, he considers, looking the man over, he looks like a few different badass western movie cowboys all wraped up in one, and has seen his share of shit go down, and looks like he finnishes things alot, and doesn't like to have it any other way, fights or omelets. at length, Mikial gives a short chuckle, "Yeah, thats a reasonable idea.."

Spearhead nodds. can't get spellcheck to work.

"You're flattering me now," Rain smiles faintly to Spearhead. She gently pats his shoulder. "But there's a time for talking and a time for - well," Alpha guy punching? Shrug. She seems sympathetic towards the two and pauses. "Well, I apologize for your omelette. I'll have to buy you one if I ever see you around here. For now, we'll go. Thanks." Wave. She has some pride but she's not above GTFO when it calls for it. Not really.

Nor does she comment on Balding and the other guy. Whatever happens, they are left in the hands of the one whose SUV they tried to jack. She'll probably follow Spearhead away.

The zombie's only response to either hero is another expansive shrug of his shoulders. All in all, he doesn't seem much worried about, anything. The man hanging from his right hand has gone completely limp, and his left hand slides into his coat pocket.

'CHUNK!'

The sound of the locks releasing is abnormally loud. it's unlikely the two goons could have popped the lock with a hangar even if they'd been left alone to try. But, they weren't. And now they're probably going to vanish off the face of the planet. it's fairly easy to guess what cowboyish zombies tend to do with people they take home with them.

Fiver will be having them over for dinner.

But, that's a different story. As the two heroes depart, the mercenary pulls open the back door and tosses Balding in. Sometimes it's good to be a zombie.


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