Bad Things Happen To Bad People (IC)

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

September 26th, 2010; approximately 2:00 AM

A chill breeze blew in from the Atlantic, bringing with it a salty scent that mingled with the stench of cheap hooch and dead fish that was signature of the less glamorous areas of the boardwalk. The sky was gray and cloudy, light rain falling sporadically, forcing the underprivileged to seek shelter under a pier. A barrel fire had been started and the "locals" had gathered around for warmth and companionship. A gruff old fellow with long, knotted hair and a bushy unkempt beard noticed a solitary form huddled away from the rest of the group and called out, "Hey, no need ta be by yerself, fella. Come on over and get warm." He raised a bottle of rotgut and added, "Plenty fer e'ryone!"

---

A black limousine pulled into the parking garage of the Signora Fortuna casino. A tall, stocky man with dark-tinted glasses exited the driver-side door and opened the rear passenger door. Out stepped a younger man in a fine black suit with slicked back hair and an attache case in his hand, followed by two beautiful women dressed to the nines and giggling drunkenly. Looking at the pair of ladies the young man commented, "So, you wanted to see how real men handle business, and I told you I'd show you. Hey, Bruno, take care of my light work will ya?" he said, extending the attache case while going in to slobber creepily on the neck of one of the girls. "Hey, Bruno, I said take the f**king ca... Bruno?" he asked to an empty garage.

[Angel]

It was late, very very late. So late that it was probably early. Orela Orsini was too far away from a shelter to make it there before she passed out. Even if she did, they probably wouldn't accept her at this hour. And then the light sprinkle came. It seemed fate was messing with her. Luckily fate wasn't a heartless bastard. There was a small gathering around a fire underneath the pier. It was better than nothing. She heard a call from one of the men as she approached. It seemed welcoming enough. Besides him there were three other men of varying ages and a woman who looked to be about her age. The group didn't look the cleanest, but they did look like they were safe from the current conditions. She nodded a happy greeting as she got to the fire. They could tell she was definitely not from around here with her deep Italian accent. "Do you mind if I join you," she said boisterously happy as she could, though she still had the wanting of sleep in her voice.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

As the young woman came into the light of the fire, the older man's jaw dropped when he got his first good look at the newcomer. Standing at just over five feet, she was a stunning specimen with brownish blonde hair, beautiful brown eyes, and olive skin. He caught himself and stammered an apology. "Sorry, I weren't tryin' to be rude. It's just, well, uhh," he thought how to explain what he meant, but decided to switch topics. "Uhh, nice shirt," he commented on Orela's black t-shirt with a steel-gray 'FORCE Ops' logo. "I 'member them guys. Way back when Moore was in office, the dirty sumbitch that he was." One of the other men took off his jacket and offered it to the young lady. "Simms, shut up and pass that swill," he said playfully to the man with the bushy beard. "My name's Owen, this here's Uncle Tucker," he motioned to the scrawny, bald, bespectacled man at the opposite side of the barrel who waved in return.

Owen continued with the introductions. "The kid in the ball cap over there is Nathan and the girl with all the hair in her face is Rose. She don't talk much, though."

---

"Bruno, quit playin' around!" the young man in the black suit yelled, his words echoing off the walls of the garage. The screeching of tires caught his attention. A black cherry Cadillac pulled up next to the limo and two older, obvious mafioso-types exited. "Sally, you were supposed to be here two f**kin' hours ago with the cash. We went back to the old man's house looking for you, thought maybe you forgot. Guess you was too busy with these two skan..." his words were cut off by Sal's frantic interruption.

"Shut up! Did you see Bruno when you was pullin' in?"

"Uhh, no, numbnuts, Bruno was with you last I saw."

The other older mobster chimed in, "Heh, what, you had one of these broads drive you here?" he chuckled as he nudged his partner.

[Angel]

Orela grinned as the man stammered his greeting. She had no idea who Moore was or what the logo meant on her shirt. It was a hand out at the shelter she was in the night before last. It was clean, so she took it. Apparently it was something good. A hero shirt. She nodded as he was introduced to the group of vagrants. They seemed personable. Then again, she had to keep her guard up. She didn't know what these guys could be hiding. Better safe than sorry. She accepted the coat. "Thank you very much," she said after she yawned into her hand. "I am very glad to meet you all. I am," she paused for a split-second. She couldn't let people know who she really was. She was training herself not to say 'Orela'. "I am The Pugilist." She chuckled, it was fun to have a hero name in a city of heroes.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

"'The Pugilist'?" asked a puzzled Simms. "Ain't that like a boxer er sumthin'?" he said as he passed the bottle of discount wine to Owen.

"You don't get it, man. Look at her shirt. She's a superhero," said Owen, accepting the bottle. He took a deep pull of the wine and exhaled. The smell of the alcohol reminded Orela of turpentine. "You know, she probably just got in from another city or something, looking to make a name for herself." He offered the bottle to Orela and was about to say something else when Nathan spoke up.

"Dude, just leave her alone. She doesn't have anythi-." his sentence was cut off by Simms.

"Shuddup, Nate," snapped the grizzled vagrant. "Why don't you take a walk with Rose while the grown-ups're talkin'?" The suggestion was more of a command, and Nathan did as he was told. He pulled the bill of his cap low and put his hand out for Rose. Sitting on the sand with her knees drawn close to her chest with her arms wrapped around them, the teenage girl with long black bangs still covering her features refused to move.

---

The two older men chuckled at each others comments. "Shut up! He was right frickin' here," exclaimed Sal. "I turn around for a second and he's gone. Poof. Ain't no way he made it out the garage without me hearing him or you two's seeing him!"

This made the other two mobsters stop in mid-chuckle and look around the parking garage. In the span of heartbeat one of the older wise guys smacked face first into the pavement, his legs dragged from underneath him by a thin cable wrapped around his ankles. His partner pulled a .45 pistol from his jacket and scanned the room, firing three shots into a darkened corner of the lot when the cable unwound iitself from the fallen gangster's legs and trailed back into the shadows. Sal dropped the case full of cash and drew his own pistol, fired blindly into the darkness. and grabbed one of his escorts by the hair to use as a hostage. "Yo, Chucky, get in the G**damn car, would'ja?" he yelled as he made his way over to the Cadillac.

[Angel]

Orela took a seat in the sand, leaning against a post that held up the pier. As the group speculated about what she was. Boxer? Maybe she could have been that if she wasn't so adverse to the mafia problem. Superhero? Maybe. She saw herself as the protector of the people who couldn't do anything about crime's strongarm. So she would be their strongarm. So yeah, superhero. Albeit without flying on a cloud and farting lasers. Orela politely declined the bottle of alcohol before it was unoffered to her. She did watch as the kid was turned back to the girl. Though... was the girl OK? "Your friend," Orela pointed over to Rose, "Is she asleep? Nesting a wound? Something else? Forgive my intrusion, it just looks like she is, how you say, not feeling well?"

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

"N-no, she's fine," Nathan blurted out as soon as Orela asked. "She's just tired, that's all. C'mon, Rose," he added while grabbing her by the shoulder. The girl tried to shrug off Nathan's hand but relented when he tightened his grip and pulled her to her feet. When she stood she brushed her bangs away from her face and tucked the hair behind her ear and took a moment to look deep into Orela's eyes before she was led away, a haunting look of sorrow and sympathy.

When Nathan and Rose were a good distance away, Owen, Simms, and Uncle Tucker shared a sinister nod with one another and turned their attention back to the seemingly frail newcomer. "Sooo," said Uncle Tucker, who had remained silent up until this point. "What'd you say your name was, sweetheart?"

---

Chucky opened the driver side door and hopped in, turning the key that was left in the ignition and threw the beast into reverse as soon as Sal and his female hostage were in the back seat. Nearly slamming into the other escort that was left behind, he swung the car around 180 degrees and gunned it, the tires squealing as Chucky pulled out of the parking garage.

"Hey, you can't just leave me here!!!" shouted the stranded female. Her pouty-face dissolved as soon as she saw the attache case that was supposedly full of cash. Looking left, then right, then left again, a mischievous grin played across her face and she sauntered over to the fallen case. "Hmph, at least I can still have a good night," she remarked to no one in particular before she heard a low whine from the shadows. Squinting into the darkness she asked, "Hello?", and jumped back as a silver and black motorcycle rushed past her, following the Cadillac up the exit ramp.

[Angel]

Either Rose was about to gnaw on that poor kid or Orela's sleep was getting to her. Was she seeing things? Were those... the marks of a vampire? And the kid was taking her out into the rain? That look she gave her couldn't be good either. She had to find a way to excuse herself from this little shindig to check this scene out. She thought about it for a while as she watched the two walk a distance away. Her mind snapped out of thinking patterns when she heard a voice ask her a question. She smiled and yawned with a stretch, sitting herself up. "The Pugilist," she said speaking up. "So, your young friend and the girl, are they close? It seems that they like each other very much. I cannot tell if they are brother and sister, mother and son." She smirked, "I would not be surprised if they had a 'special connection' if they are not related." Sitting up even further, she crouched, "Now, I have to ask you gentlemen. Do you know your female friend has peculiar bites on her neck. They are not fresh, but they are there." Her happy voice turned a bit growl-like, "I have a feeling that she is playing you or you are playing me. Please, tell me the truth."

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

"Why you care about them so much?" asked Simms, his grin growing into a nefarious smile.

"Yeah, you oughtta think about you," added Uncle Tucker.

"Look, we can do this the easy way," chimed in Owen as a pair of fangs appeared in his mouth, "or we can do it the fun way!"

---

"Chucky, take us down to the pier!", cried Sal as he peered out the back window at their pursuer. The Cadillac drove on harder, trying to make a b-line for the pier, the silent-as-night motorcycle in tow.

[Angel]

Orela wasn't uneasy. Her life was too fraught with danger to be uneasy. Though she did have a feeling something was up here. She looked nonplussed as the three started questioning her back. Oh yeah, these guys were definitely weird. Also, fangs! Well then, you get a hunch and the hunch slaps you in the face. Sleep would have to wait, it was time for some extreme negotiations.

"Huh," Orela said with dull surprise, "You are the fated dead, are you?" She went from a squat to a full stand with a nonchalant jump upwards. "There are two things that can happen here." Her voice turned back to an intimidating growl, "You can tell me what you are up to now or I can beat it out of you."

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

The three vampire hobos cackled madly at the night sky, the stench of cheap alcohol cut with copper wafting towards Orela. The violent crashing of the waves and the icy breeze off the ocean set the tone of this grim encounter.

Owen sneered at Orela while his companions eyed their prey like hungry wolves. "Us, sweetheart? We're vampires," Simms and Uncle Tucker howled as Owen finished. "You? You the 'fated dead' here!", and he undead trio pounced.

[Angel]

The time for words were over. The dead were beset upon her. She reached for the closest member of the gang, grabbing Owen. Well she would have grabbed him if he wouldn't have slipped out of her grip. The show of power followed through anyway. She smacked him against the pole she was once leaning on.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

Owen's undead skull smacked hard against the concrete pylon of the pier, dazing the creature as it slumped to sand. Simms and Tucker leaped at the Pugilist, claws slashing and teeth gnashing at the heroine, though they missed their mark.

[Angel]

Orela winked and smiled menacingly at Owen before he passed out. She could almost feel the sickening crunch of the impact. That may have not went as planned. But what happened next was almost laughable. Both of her would be attackers missed. One completely missed, but the other was too close for comfort. Picking up Owen she slammed the body into into Uncle Tucker.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

Uncle Tucker saw the attack coming and braced himself for the impact. With a bone-crunching 'THUD' Owen slammed into his partner, but to no effect. Simms only laughed at the spectacle. "We're vampires, bitch. You can't hit us hard enough to hurt us!" he yelled. The duo pressed the attack, but they still couldn't land a solid blow.

[Angel]

Orela knew something was wrong. She knew that hit the target, but it seemed to not budge him. She kept her growl. Any louder she would be roaring her words. This is why she didn't speak when she fought. The growling kept her pace. If she wasn't growling the fight was over. She kept it low enough that she could hear her opponents, but loud enough for them to hear it. For some it was intimidating. When Uncle Tucker shot his warning there was a split second where she stopped growling. Thinking and swinging at the same time was not good for her.her swipe totally flew off center. He was trying to psyche her out. And for that time he did. No more. She started growling again.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

Owen pulled himself up groggily, his fractured skull slowing his actions. "You're dead! You're f***in' dead!" he roared. Closing the distance, Owen's claws raked against Orela's midsection, slashing the lower half of her shirt.

[Angel]

Orela felt the hot sting of his claws against her skin. It didn't hurt as much as she felt. Then again, she's never been clawed by a full grown man in a malicious way before. This would be a lesson to the other two. Grabbing the wrist of the man who had just clawed her she slammed him into the sand. Pinning him to the ground with her knee in the middle of his shoulder blades, she reached down and grabbed the undead creature by the neck. With a quick twist, the vampire was undead no more, just dead. She picked up the lifeless body and chucked it into the bonfire. Looking over to the two still standing, she readied herself for their assault.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

The ragged clothes and hair of the felled vampire caught fire first, quickly followed by the creatures flesh. A black, acrid smoke rose from the bonfire as the body was consumed by flame faster than would be expected. For a brief moment, Simms and Uncle Tucker couldn't take their eyes away from the burning heap that was their friend and a terrible rage filled their black, unbeating hearts.

With vampiric quickness the two crashed into the Pugilist, her own speed and strength unable to ward of their rush. The three lay tangled on the sand, a mass of struggling limbs and shouted threats. When it was all said and done, Tucker had Orela's arms pinned behind her back and Simms had pierced the flesh of her neck with his fangs, drinking deeply of her life's blood.

[Angel]

Orela tried to dodge, but it seemed futile as she was dragged down to the ground by the two creatures of the night. And then there was a pain in her neck. She almost didn't feel it because of the adrenaline, but it was there. Wait... biting? Vampires? Oh God! She struggled to break free of the creature's grasp. There was no way she was going to be some leech's dinner.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

Uncle Tucker's grasp was broken by the struggling young woman and Simms was too blood drunk to react quickly enough to the foot in the stomach that put him on his back on the sand. Savoring the warm coppery liquid still in his mouth, he hadn't even noticed the sound of tires on the pier above, much less the black cherry Cadillac that careened off the wooden planks and dropped unceremoniously on top of him. Uncle Tucker, however, was quick to act and stumbled behind the pylon, hoping to hide from Orela to launch a sneak attack.

The rear passenger door opened, though the angle of the car had the door opening up, and a young man in a disheveled black suit pulled himself out, followed by a young woman of questionable virtue. Once the young man had found solid footing, he reached over and wrapped his arm around her neck, brandishing a pistol wildly into the night sky, seemingly oblivious of Orela or the man that had been crushed beneath the vehicle. He cried out wildly "C'mon, motherf***er!", and fired twice up towards the pier.

[Angel]

What happened next seemed like a dream. Was she dreaming? Orela didn't know anymore. She kept on guard though. She reminded herself of the old adage, 'You die in a dream, you die for real'. Two vampires down and there was possible help here with Mister Trigger Happy there. Simms was flat under the car. She didn't see Tucker either. She rolled herself upwards and stood up quickly. She had to see what the guy with the gun was up to. she prepared herself to disarm him he got too jumpy. She spoke up, "Do you know it is very early in the morning? People are trying to sleep." Another adage, 'Humor cools blood: Wrath spills it'.

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

The young man in the crumpled though expensive suit turned his eyes and his .45 pistol towards the Pugilist as she spoke, the hostage grunting with pain as he wrenched her head to provide cover. "The hell are you talkin' about! Get on the grou-" he yelped as his wrist was grabbed and twisted by Orela, his pistol now in the Pugilist's possession while his escort-turned-body shield fell unceremoniously to the sand in a shocked stupor.

[Angel]

Orela quickly put the gun in safe mode and secured in the waistband of her pants behind her. With that she wrestled the previous holder of the gun to the ground with something between a full nelson and a half nelson. Enough grip where she could hold him down but loose enough where he could move his head. "Alright you have three second to start explaining everything before I make this hold tighter. Why did that car fall off? What is this 'vampire' problem?" She felt blood trickle down her neck. Maybe it was the adrenaline still going that kept her from feeling the wounds, "Also I am bleeding. Do you have any bandages in that wrecked heap of yours?"

[ex3lev3n]

GM POST

The young man grimaced and let out a yelp as he was taken to the ground. He was by all accounts at the mercy of the Pugilist, and he was quick to comply to her questioning."I, ahh, I was gettin' chased by some hoods tryin' to boost my ride," he whimpered. However, he was honestly taken aback by Orela's vampire comment. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, lady."

His eyes darted towards the wreck of a car that crashed off of the pier when he was asked about any first aid items. "Oh no. Chucky was driving." He seemed to care about the fate of his friend, though he obviously cared more about his own situation. "C'mon, just let me go."

The woman he had been using previously as cover against who-knows-what shakily stood to her feet, removing her heels for better balance as she said, "You're such an ass, Sally. I can't believe you did that!" She tossed one her heels at the grappled man's face, and her aim was true, striking Sal right on the forehead.