Where: Suburbia
When: May 20, 2012; 5:30pm
What: Celestial bodies aline and cause a bit of chaos for Vegas.
Away from the strip and out in the suburbia surrounding the more famous portions of Vegas, it's actually a pretty normal town. If hot. In the evening, with the sun just starting it's dip toward the horizon and the temperature starting to ease off, people start to ease out of their air conditioned homes to actually get things done.
The Edge shopping center is one of the newer structures, but it boasts everything from groceries to clothes to electronics. And it houses an actual physical bookstore right in the middle of the tight cluster of buildings. It isn't even a chain store. The locals are very proud. People idly stroll into and out of buildings with their bags and their kids and their friends, a broad sampling of demographics.
Boyfriend benches — they are a staple in every mall. Finnegan sits on one, watching the crowd through a pair of black shades and pulling apart a Wetzel's Pretzel inch by inch to chew slowly. A shopping bag from the video game store sits beside him, no doubt holding some manly-man sort of video game, beside a Victoria's Secret bag in its trademark pink. He looks like the typical man waiting for a girlfriend to finish trying on clothes in whichever of the stores he's left her in. A glance at his phone — for the time? — and then back out into the horde of shoppers as he pops the last bit of pretzel into his mouth.
There's a rumbling noise in the parking lot as a black motorcycle comes to a stop before the shopping center. Manning the vehicle is a woman with dark brown hair, her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. She swings a leg off as the bike is shut off, black boot crunching a piece of paper, looks like a receipt.
Dressed in a dark purple tank top and long flowing black cotton skirt that is slit up the sides, you can see black biker shorts peeking out, covering her upper thighs. Sibyl grabs her dark blue messenger bag from the back of the bike and throws it over her shoulder. She takes a moment to look up at the sky, squinting before she quietly murmurs to herself and begins to set off for the bookstore. Taking her time, she whistles and hums a bit. Letting her fingers dance in the air as she takes her steps. She's nearing the man whose apparently waiting for his girlfriend to arrive.
Paul is not the aforementioned girlfriend. Why are you looking at him like that? He's not even anywhere near the Victoria's Secret, though he is at least within line of sight of it. "Thank you, no," he says to the attendant at a kiosk hawking cell phones, "I've already got an expensed contract. But I'll pass the word along— I've heard good things." Picking up a brochure, he folds it in half and stuffs it into a back pocket.
It may be a little out of the way from home, but the appeal of a newer shopping center away from the insane press of the city is tempting enough to make the trip. Zan, less the sight than a week ago though still wearing the fading colors of an unfortunate meeting of fists about his face, meanders a circuitous route between shopfronts. His hands ride in jeans pockets, the denim a bit faded and dusty, t-shirt likewise looking as though some adventure had been had further out beyond town.
"Hey kiddo," comes a female voice from behind Zan just before Amelia comes to hook her arm over his shoulders, "Looking good." It takes a moment to place her, since her voice sounds different now and the last time he saw her she had bright crayon-red hair. It's jet black now, and she wears a far more professional looking outfit. She tips her sunglasses down to look at him over the frames, "What're you doing out here?"
It isn't the Victoria's Secret that's getting all the attention this evening, and more's the pity, but the little mens clothing shop next door has a group of men heading toward it. In flipped up hoodies and hunched shoulders, they stand out from the average shopper for this area. Plus, their clothes look more… inner city than sunny suburbia. One of them bumps into Paul, but continues on his way without so much as a sorry.
Glancing back down at his phone, Finnegan smirks at his screen, then types out some message or another before rising and picking up his two bags, starting one way — in the opposite direction of the men's store, then peering down the stretch of mall as if to get his bearings, and turning back again — this time toward the men's store as if he possibly forgot just where it was. He smiles politely at Sibyl as he passes by, balling up his pretzel bag to toss — and score! — into the wastebin right behind her. "Two points," he says cheerfully before striding toward the clothing shop, pausing at a rounder near the front to look at a selection of shirts.
Finnegan's smile and words seem to jolt Sibyl out of her own thoughts and she jumps a little and then grins before raising her arms and yelling out, "And the crowd goes wild!" Laughing as she looks after Finnegan. A brief dry breeze brushes across her face and she leans into it. "Can you donk?" she calls out softly towards Finnegan. The young woman's hand is tight on the strap of her messenger bag, it doesn't seem like she's noticed the men approaching yet.
Paul catches sight of the new arrivals just as they're starting to brush by. He doesn't recognize them, but he's seen other inner-city types before, and reacts the way he usually does: walking away in another direction to give them some space. "No, but he has good fundamentals," he calls out to Sibyl, unprompted: some comments just beg to be used as a setup line.
With a half turn, Zan looks at the woman who's decided to throw an arm around his shoulder. Brows lift upward, nearing incredulous until he's able to place her. Or even as he places her. "No thanks to you," he says, shrugging away from her arm and casting another look behind. The act is a nervous one, though Amelia may be able to guess who he's looking for. "Browsing, waisting time," he continues as he looks back Amelia. "Why, keeping tabs?" The grin that follows doesn't quite take the derisive tone out of his words, but he's making some effort to stay civil.
Isabelle is here, yes. Men's clothing? Why for? Victoria's Secret? Not a chance. No, she's a couple of stores down - you guessed it - the book store. Browsing, sure, but she's already got three in a nice stack in one hand, while she flips through a fourth. The attendants don't mind her - oh yes, Izzy is a regular here. Nothing to see here. Move along.
"Hey, I never hit you," Amelia claims with a laugh, hands lifting in a placating gesture, the bag around her opposite wrist falls heavily down into the crook of her elbow. "And believe it or not, I'm not your babysitter. Except possibly right now," she says as she glances back in the direction of the group of men striding past Finnegan into the store.
With the exception of the one at the head of their group, the men look a little nervous. One being skinny and jittery, another looking around at every unexpected noise. But otherwise, they seem to be browsing like anyone else, searching through racks for things that fit them.
But in the background noise of the center, a distinct noise comes seeping in and getting steadily louder. A police siren. Zan gets to hear Amelia's groan at the incoming noise, but it's into Finnegan's mind that she actually speaks.
Here they come, blundering in.
Inside the men's store, Finn sets his bags on top of one of the racks, perhaps so he can flip more easily through. Sunglasses are now pushed down on his nose and he glances at the men when the sirens come a wailing.
"Where're the fitting rooms?" he asks the clerk in a casual voice, lifting two shirts he'd pulled from the rack to indicate he might want to try them on. Apparently he likes pink and lime green. Well, he can pull it off. He glances at one of the men closest, then looks back to the clerk to wait for the answer.
A brief look is given to Paul, the man who spoke for Finn. She Sibyl almost says something in reply and then she hears the police siren. Not exactly out of the ordinary.. for anywhere. But maybe a little weird for suburbia. Her mouth opens into a silent 'Oh' shape as her eyebrows rise.
There's a slight shake of her head before she goes to sit on a bench next to the men's clothing store. Drumming her fingers on the arm rest, her head is tilted up towards the sky before she leans it over a little in the direction that the sirens are coming from.
Paul isn't worried about the cops - not exactly - the most he usually worries about them is when he's on the road, and then just long enough to think /c'mon, go pick on someone else going a whopping four miles over the limit/. He is, however, concerned that they feel the need to show up /here/ with sirens blaring. What are they expecting to encounter? Or is that actually an ambulance, or a fire truck? Whatever it is, it can't be good. He takes a quick look around and then starts heading toward one of the other exits.
"You didn't stop it, either." Zan's grin doesn't change, neither warm nor cold, as he gives his head a shake. It might not be fair to hold Amelia wholly responsible for the events leading to the bruises he yet sports, but she definitely didn't help anything in regards to the kidnapping. "I don't need a babysitter," he deadpans, though he follows the woman's gaze to the men's store and the hooded guys going into it.
Three books or four? That is obviously the question. After agnozing over that decision for a full minute, Isabelle reluctantly puts down the last book, and heads for the counter to pay for her loot for the day. She's in the process of counting out exact change (yes, paying cash - giving the finger to the credit card companies since 2007!), when the sirens start blaring in the distance. Not that she has any real reason to fear the police (except possibly for /one/ reason), but Isabelle looks vaguely perturbed by it. So much so that she asks the attendant to hurry it up so she can LEAVE - and once the transaction is complete, she hurriedly grabs the shopping bag and steps out of the bookstore.
"Couldn't. Ophelia is cute, but pretty heartless," Amelia says, as if talking about someone else entirely. And maybe she is. "Well, that's good, because I'm terrible with kids. Still. Um." Her attention swings back around to him, her brows furrowed, "Don't follow me. Under no circumstances do you want to follow me. And definitely not unarmed. Just… be a normal citizen out here. Okay? Okay good." She steps back once, eyeing him for a moment before she grins and turns to head toward the back door to that very same mens store. He can see, just as she's slipping in, her pulling out a gun from the bag hanging from her arm.
Inside the book store, the cashier frowns at being hurried, but is able to rush Isabelle through. He must be on a long shift, if the sigh he lets out as she steps away from the counter is anything to judge by. And similarly, in the mens store, Finnegan is directed to where he can find a sign on a door indicating the fitting rooms within. But it's outside that the real interesting bits start happening.
Between the buildings and around the parking lot, those outside can see cop cars coming to surround the area. Lots and lots of cop cars. Lights twirling, sirens shouting and armed men popping out of doors and gearing up like they expect the shopping center to go on attack.
"Sounds like trouble," Finn says cheerfully to the clerk, as he moves in the direction of the fitting rooms — slowly. "You might wanna lock your door so whoever it is they're looking for doesn't come in." He looks up to one of the boyz in the hood(ies) and arches a brow that carries with it a tacit message: get into the fitting rooms where the cops can't see you, idiots.
Well, that's one man looking out for the welfare of the boys, at least. Paul certainly isn't; he's only half looking out where he himself is headed, in fact, and finds himself headed straight for a collision with Isabelle just as she's walking back out into the central area. "Whoa, sorry!" he calls out, doing his best to slow up his pace in time to not send everything flying.
He stops in his tracks when Amelia responds, trying to place her words into some sensical manner. She could be talking in third person, it's all Zan has to assume from. The remainder of what's told to him goes by the wayside, it's not likely that he'd listen to her anyway, when he continues to watch the hooded men until sirens demand attention, that glimpsing of firearm being drawn coming as he looks away from the red-now-black haired woman to the arriving law enforcement. "Yeah, right," the Mayor's son mutters as he turns to follow Amelia. After all, if there's trouble afoot, might be safer to be around the armed woman rather than out in the open and alone.
Isabelle does have this track record of sending things flying, especially in Paul's presence, but this time she makes do with just fumbling over her shopping bag - and that big shoulder bag of hers. Huh, maybe that's her true superpower? Frowning a bit, she reaches up to adjust her glasses, before seeing who it is. "Oh hey." The frown disappears, to be replaced by a look of mild surprise. "We have to stop meeting like this." She notes, before glancing towards one of the mall entrances. "So, uh, what's going on out there?"
When Zan follows her, Amelia glances his way with a crooked smirk. "You're bad with directions. Or is that authority? Daddy issues?" She's teasing now, her voice a whisper. But she pulls out a taser from her bag, too, to shove against his chest. "One shot, so use wisely."
She slides into the store stealthily as the men take Finnegan's advice (of sorts) and start to head into the fitting rooms, too. As as they do, the confused looking employee steps to the front door to lock the doors. And getting a glance at the number of cop cars out there, he turns the shades in the front windows, too. For good measure.
Behind the cops, black, non-descript SUVs start to pull up, too. It seems the authorities are having a bit of a discussion about who gets to take lead on this mess, while overhead, the sun's orangey glow takes on an odd shape, like someone took a bite out of it.
You here yet, Pixie? Finnegan's voice chimes in Amelia's head as he stands near the dressing room entrance, watching each of the men head back and seeking their face for the one he is looking for. I figure we grab our guy and head out as soon as we can, let the cops do their thing. He watches the employee carefully to make sure no alarms are triggered, no signal given to cops outside that might mess up this (rather sketchy) plan.
Okay, Paul is a little late in his effort, but at least they managed to avert the worst of things. So far. "We do, at that," he agrees, reaching for her bag before seeing that she's already gotten it straightened up again. "And" A quick glance over his shoulder. "I don't know, but whatever it is, I figure we'd better get out of their way." He's already starting to move again, though more slowly this time as he checks out how the rest of the crowd is reacting.
"Only when the directions aren't good ones," Zan answers, still muttering. He glances over his shoulder again, hands fumbling with the taser as it's pressed into his possession. Her remarks about his dad just get a roll of his eyes and a scoffing look when he looks back at Amelia. He takes a second to parse the instruction and the taser itself. "Yeah. Right."
Isabelle bobs her head to Paul, but is still squinting at all the cops outside. "We should. I don't want to be jumping out of /another/ elevator." She murmurs, and just as she's about to look back at Paul - hey, eclipse! "Look!" She points a finger at the eclipse over the horizon, more excited than surprised. "I totally forgot about it! Quick, you have a camera? Oh, hang on." She tries to shove the shopping bag into Paul's hands, so she can dig into her big shoulder bag. Focus, Izzy, focus!
Affirmative, Finny, Amelia replies with a sing-song voice in his head, That sounds totally foolproof. I've got your back. He is closer, after all. She turns to look at Zan, chuckling softly. "You just tell me how bad they were when this is all over," she says, wry.
Finnegan gets a view on their target as he follows his buddies into the back. The ring leader is already hunting around for a window out of this place while the jittery one stands nearby. Jittering.
As people notice the gather crowd surrounding the center, many of them stare, and shove one another to try to get a better look. Some retreat into stores, or try very hard not to look nervous. And, of course, there are those who don't care, and are far more concerned with the wonder of nature happening up in the sky.
While watching the men file in, Finnegan's worked from his pocket one of the extra tranq darts into his hand. As the target heads in, he murmurs, "Joey? Joey from Henderson High?" he asks, clapping the man by the shoulder to let the dart's tranquilizer do its work and hopefully without drawing too much attention to the others — hopefully they are more intent on getting out than their friend. Finn maneuvers his body to block the sight of the interaction from the other men in hoodies; meanwhile he pulls out another little gun-like device, trying to concealing it as much as possible from the clerk, the man he's trying to tranquilize, and those in search of an exit. It's tiring work, really. He could use a nap.
Pleasantly unaware of the drugging currently in progress, Paul checks his pockets, taking out his phone and holding it up. "I've got this. Don't know if it'll pick up anything but a big bright blur." After a moment's thought, he fishes out a credit card receipt and a ring of keys, poking a small hole in the paper because hey, that's what you're supposed to do, right?
A frown pulls at Zan's brows, forming a crease near the center of his forehead. His grip shifts on the taser, though he keeps it pointed well away from himself. And Amelia. Despite his reservations it might not do to electrocute her just now. "When what's all over," he asks, unable to keep the suspicion completely from his tone. "You know what's going on or something?" He looks between the racks and displays that sit in the way, for those hooded guys again.
"Turn down the, uh… constrast." Isabelle tries to peer into Paul's phone, even as he does the paper hole trick. "Yup, that might do the trick too. In fact…" She starts to ramble on, but fortunately she suddenly remembers the gathering of cops. "Uhm. Get the picture quick? I think we should… we really should get out of here before this goes all Terminator."
Amelia looks at Zan, one eyebrow arched up. Her answer is just to sort of wave her gun as if that explained everything before she looks back to Finnegan just in time for the tranquilizer. The two friends start yelling something, but the target looks at Finnegan with a crinkled brow.
"You shouldn't've… done that." Oddly enough, even though his tone is pretty even, those last couple of words get louder and louder, so loud that the walls start to shake. Amelia steps in front of Zan as the noise starts, and fires off a couple bullets that hit the guy in the shoulder. It turns him enough that his sonic attack doesn't hit Finnegan directly, but when the screeching pitches up and blows outward, it sends Finn, Amelia, Zan and the other two hooded men flying into the walls. However, the walls blow outward as well, taking out the mens store, the Victoria's Secret, the gelato place and sending debris in every direction. The sonic manipulator falls under in the moments that follow, but damage done. Isabelle and Paul find themselves in the path of some rather large chunks of wall and glass.
And the very unfortunate bit, as the moon covers the sun on the horizon and leaves them with the ring of fire hanging in the sky, the Advanced find their abilities have left them.
Well, that's going to leave a mark. It takes a few moments for Finnegan to lift his head and count all of his parts to be sure he's not missing any. "Ffffffuck," he hisses out. I guess we know his brand of special, is the upside he tries to impart to Amelia, but he has no way of knowing it didn't make it to her. A pat here, a pat there, and he manages to locate his weapons. Finally, he begins to move to his feet, wiping the blood that drips from his nose, squinting through a dizzying wave of nausea to try to find his target once more in the dust of the rubble.
The hell was /that/? Is there a terrorist bombing the mall now? No wonder the cops are pouring in en masse! The real explanation will probably occur to Paul later, once he has time to think back, but right now— Instinctively, he grabs Isabelle's arm and tries to tug her down with him as he hits the dirt. "Ow!" He is caught by a chunk of debris, not to the point of passing out, but there's a nasty bruise on his head and some blood trickling down into his eyes, and he's shaken enough to just lie there like that for several seconds.
And there goes his phone skittering off into the midst of the rubble, likely to be lost there. /Again/. He should just make it a monthly budget item…
Zan just shakes his head at the explanation, or lack thereof. Questions half form abandoned when things change quickly, from Finn's actions to Amelia's, to the sound. The horrible sound that sends him flying with everyone else, into and through a wall as it's taken out by the sonic wave. It awakens half healed injuries, adds to the bruises and scrapes. Acting as a cushion for Amelia likely hadn't helped him anyway. He bites off a groan while he starts pulling himself free of the debris, pushing aside bits of wall and glass and whatever else before wedging hands under Amelia's shoulders to help her up first.
Isabelle is no action-hero(ine), and as such has little survival instincts when it comes to physical dangers. It's fortunate, in this case, that Paul pulls her down, which she does with a surprised yelp. Trouble is, once they're both on the floor, Isabelle sees various pieces of flying debris - and with Paul still in physical contact - attempts to shift out of phase when one piece of wall comes flying in her direction….
…only to have her power fail. She takes the debris in the forehead, and is instantly knocked out cold. Quick, someone grab her glasses, which goes flying off as well.
..And then the shit hit the fan, fuck. Sibyl falls to the ground and is sent rolling by the sonic wave that has blown people and debris all over the place. The young woman yelps as she finally comes to a stop and climbs to her hands and knees shakily. Her head begins to ache a bit as she squints her hazel eyes to focus, breathe.. just breathe. A few scrapes and obvious bruises is what she's sustained from this blast. As she tries to climb to her feet, she lets out a angry cry as she drops back down hard in order to avoid some large piece of debris spinning towards her.
"I'm trying to stand here!!" she screams loudly obviously frustrated with something but if that outburst wasn't loud enough the next scream is horrifying as she clutches her head. "No, no, no, no." she repeats as she backs into a wall. "It's.." she doesn't finish her sentence.
Amelia shoves a piece of roof off her just before she waves off Zan's help and starts to get shakily to her feet. A hand goes to her head only to pull away with blood smeared on it. "Oh, lovely." Looking over and seeing Finnegan already getting back to work. At least the man isn't hard to find. "Talk about taking the mystery out of it," she says as she starts to pick her way through the rubble herself. Her bag is abandoned to wherever it fell in the crash, but her gun is tucked away for now.
Which is probably a good thing, since the cops and feds stop arguing and start getting to work. Some call for ambulances and fire trucks and the like, but many start coming toward the site of the odd blast, to begin helping people get out without trampling one another. And to get people out of the rubble of the lost buildings.
"Finn, anyone ever told you you look good a little roughed up?" Amelia says to him, her grin a little loopy. Must be the blow to the head. "We done here?" She seems less panicky than others with her ability missing.
"All the time, Pixie," he tells her over his shoulder as he peers around for the sonic boomer. "He raised the roof before I could get 'em," he says quietly, but aha — there's the guy, done in by his own ability. He bends down, like he's trying to help, letting his body and big paw of a hand shield as much of the little gun he holds as possible. The back of the man's neck is quickly injected with something, though to anyone not kneeling with him, it looks like he's simply checking for a pulse and moving debris from the man's shoulders and back.
"There's one over here!" he calls to the cops once all his own weapons are stowed. Slate-hued eyes dart around, and he sighs. "Pixie, they done gone and blown away them new drawers I bought you."
Finally, with a grimace, Paul wads up one shirt sleeve and wipes the gunk out of his eyes, struggling to focus again as he looks around. "Hey, we need some help over here too!" he calls out, spotting Isabelle's prone form.
One blessing, at least: after that fiasco in the elevator, he doesn't try to use his ability, which would almost certainly backfire on him again if it wasn't already knocked out of commission. As for Isabelle's— well, he figures she just didn't see it coming in time.
Once free of Amelia and whatever else had come crashing down, Zan takes a few seconds to stare up at the ceiling before extricating himself from the mess. He drags a hand over his his head, freeing some more dust that, in turn, clings to a trail of red that seeps through a few cuts of his own. His hand pauses at the back of his skull, pressing carefully while he takes a couple unsteady steps. Somehow the taser is still held in his other hand, forgotten despite the white-knuckled grip that holds it.
The scream ends as fast as it begins and Sibyl climbs to her feet. Her bag miraculously is wrapped around her body and after untangling it, she walks unsteadily towards where Amelia and Finn are those being the ones she's near too. Eyes wide but her jaw locked and strong, she brushes hair out of her eyes. Her eyebrows prick up as she hears Finn say something about new undies. She stares unblinkingly at the two and tilts her head. "You could just go and steal some more now… the pink frilly ones or the lacy black ones?" She says simply, what with the chaos all around them nobody would notice. "Or.. not." She echoes after herself, rubbing her head. She whispers to herself, "Why didn't I see…?" Trailing off as she looks at her surroundings and then at the people closet to her.
"This is fucked." She says a bit louder.
When Finnegan turns her way again, Amelia reaches over to hold onto his arm, unsteady but managing a smile nonetheless. "Golly. I guess I will have to bare it. Bear it, yeah?" She says with a laugh, but it seems to be a mistake as she grips onto his arm a little tighter and leans over to put her head against him. It does do well enough to justify his use of the boyfriend bench earlier, at least.
When a new voice chimes in, though, Amelia only lifts an eyebrow in her direction. "Hard to steal what's covered in — in god knows what at this point." Indeed, it's a good thing Victoria's Secret has insurance.
The cops come over to usher them all away, though, especially since Finnegan is right in where their suspects ended up. Worse for wear. Luckily, they can all see the medical professionals arrive in the background, just in time for the small swarm of wounded heading their way.
