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Ain't Nothin' But a Hound Dog; [Black Hood] [Itsuki Kondo; Ask First]
Topic Started: Oct 6 2013, 11:46 AM (578 Views)
Czernobog
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Best Influence.
The street was quiet. Lines of abandoned and minimally-used storefronts slouched on either side of the road, which was bare of vegetation and lit with flickering orange lamps. It was shortly after dusk, and the day shift -- people just trying to make it through the day, hurrying home to television and dinner and the warmth of family -- had cleared out. Conversely, it was not yet early enough for the night people -- hookers, gang members, the homeless and abandoned, the mad and the drug-addled and the simply lost -- to have come fully out of hiding.

It had an uncanny effect. The street not yet fully dark, but empty of people, leaving the garbage that was strewn along the side of the street to provide evidence of habitation, leaving the graffiti tags to speak for themselves. There was a distant sound of traffic, and the distant sound of birdsong, possibly from Ruwashi park or possibly from someplace else.

Most notably, though, there appeared to be a figure collapsed in front of an alleyway, apparently a man in his early twenties, dressed in jeans, sneakers, and hooded sweatshirt. He lay facedown, a smear of blood to the right of his head, and slicked down the hair on his exposed scalp.
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Icarael
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Robespierre Did Nothing Wrong
Itsuki shuffled furtively down the street, past ramen shops and arcades filled with dusty machines. He had his head down and his eyes on his watch, staring at the slowly shifting neon numbers. Every minute or so he muttered a curse under his breath and quickened his pace, trying to ignore his hoodie flapping against his back.

He'd attended the AzureArcana tourney at Tanjiro (good thing everything could be found at Tanjiro, he thought) for the hell of it, figuring it would take only a few minutes or so. By the time the game ended and the winner was crowned, the sun had already set. Who would have thought a simple fighting game would take so much time?

Great, now my uncle is gonna ground me. Again. He looked once more to his side, pondering if it was worth going down an alleyway just to make it home in time. There was one alley he knew in particular, somewhere in the Tanjiro area near a long-closed ramen shop. Common sense would have stopped anyone else from doing this, but Itsuki was never one for common sense. And besides, the worst that had happened to him in that alley was a sleazy old man offering him "diet pills".

Unfortunately, as Itsuki arrived at the alley, something worse waited for him: a man lying against the wall, blood smeared to the right of his head. The sight made Itsuki's heart skip a few beats, and he had to breathe deeply several times before he could pull out his cell phone. With trembling hands, he dialed the emergency number.

Okay, he thought, get the paramedics here and then I'm out. Quick and simple. At least he had an alibi he could use to placate his uncle.
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Czernobog
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Given that this was Nagashima, and one of the rougher parts of town, the ambulance might take some time to reach the location. The health care system in town had been getting taxed for quite some time, though luckily the EMTs were growing quite skilled at dealing with strange injuries.

The man, who was lying facedown near the entrance to an alleyway, groaned and raised his left arm, as if trying to find something. A smashed pair of glasses lay just inside in the alleyway itself. His face was still pressed into the ground, obscuring his features.

With Itsuki in place, though, it hardly mattered.

There was an audible electronic "chirp" and a distorted voice -- like someone speaking through a voice changer -- saying: "Now."

Two figures stormed out of the alleyway. Men in black hoods, with bandannas drawn across their mouths and noses, their eyes the only parts of their face exposed. Each of the men held in his gloved hands a shotgun. One had a double-barreled gun, the other a single-barreled one. The former -- the smaller of the two -- had a mic pinned to his chest, a green "on" light holding steady. The latter, who was tall and broad, had a makeshift bandolier slung over his shoulder, a strap of leather with pockets sewn onto it. In each pocket was a glass bottle with clear fluid inside and a handkerchief stuck into it.

They split. The big man stepped out into the street, circling Itsuki and keeping his gun trained on the boy. The latter remained in front of him:

"Hands on your head, eyes shut!" the smaller man hissed, loudly cocking the weapon.
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Icarael
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Putting away his phone, Itsuki saw the man raise a hand. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the man wasn't dead, and approached him, taking care to maintain his distance. "Hey, you alright?" he said, waiting a few seconds before extending a hand.

As he did so, his ears caught a soft chirp from somewhere. For a moment, Itsuki froze, then shrugged it off and held out his hand again. That was the cue for two hooded figures to storm out, shove the polished barrel of a shotgun into Itsuki's face, and command him to raise his hands and shut his eyes. Hesitantly, Itsuki raised his hands, moving them to his head inch by inch.
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Czernobog
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The two men seemed incredibly tense, their eyes -- the only parts of their face visible behind the bandanas and beneath the hoods -- were intense and watchful.

The man on the ground moved, having apparently been playing opossum. He pulled his hood up and reached under his head, tugging a bandanna over his mouth and nose, then wiped the side of his head, revealing that there had been no wound beneath a mass of fake blood. He pushed himself upright, and stretched. Reaching into his sweatshirt, he pulled a collapsible baton out but didn't extend it.

"Into the alleyway, kid," the larger man said. "Keep those hands on your head and your eyes closed. Take a step..."

He was apparently going to give oral instructions to guide Itsuki into the alleyway while his eyes were closed.
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Natscookie
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Shitpost Senpai

Yuki was rather pumped that day - after exiting the Archery club, he had gotten a call that his order had arrived a certain Nagashima backstreets store. He had ordered a compound bow to his measure, along with some arrows, for solo training in the mansion's grounds.

Ill fate awaited him, however, as he did not know Nagashima's paths very well - he soon got lost. He called for a cab, but the service denied his request. Racing around in his skateboard, the boy got frantically around, inadvertently going deeper into the darker, more violent streets of the place. Not a couple days ago, he had a conversation with Daichi about such... He needed to get out of there, fast.

A commotion soon reached his ears - his first thought was to flee, but out of pure muscle memory, he stopped to listen.

"Hands on your head, eyes shut!"

From that phrase alone, he knew it wouldn't be good. He could see the figures in the other side of the alley, and as soon as he heard one of the men motion the boy inside, Yuki was quick to hide behind a wall, crouched, a few shadows being there for a blessing.

Taking out his cellphone, he started to call the police - instead of holding the gadget proper, he had it stuck between his shoulder and cheek. His hands were occupied retrieving his new weapon. He wasn't the best shooter around, but if he could buy the kid some time...

He aimed from the corner, the steel tip of the arrow barely visible from his hiding place. If the phone picked up, he'd give as much information as he could about what was happening in a whisper.

Breathe in, breathe out...
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Icarael
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Itsuki shut his eyes, letting the man give his orders. His hands were exactly where he wanted them, anyway. The click of steel reached his ears: from the sound of it, someone had pulled out a baton. As if that will help, he thought. These idiots have no idea who they're messing with.

Smiling, Itsuki took one step... and then whirled around, mask flashing to life around his face. In an instant, Garm swept forth, his blade slashing in a bright arc, clearing the way for his master.
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Czernobog
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"110, what is the nature of the problem?" the operator's voice was muffled by Yuki's position.

The cleave hit the man with the double-barreled shotgun unexpectedly. The man shrieked -- not a grunt of surprise, or of anger, but a full-blown shriek of pain and fear -- and fired. This led to him firing, aiming at the lupine apparition. The man pulled both triggers, sending his ammunition spraying toward Garm.

The man with the single-barreled shotgun pulled the trigger as well, firing in enfilade. But neither of them fired buckshot or slugs, though that might have done the job: each fired a rock salt shell, impacting the boy with a cloud of earthen material moving at ballistic speeds. After the shots had been fired, the baton-wielder stepped forward -- Itsuki had turned his back on the man -- and brought the baton in a wide arc with the intention of smashing it into some part of the boy's head.
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Shitpost Senpai

"H-Hello...?" As Yuki watched on, he whispered the general location of where he was. "T-They're armed, and--"

He was cut off by the appearance of a magical being out of nowhere, which seemingly attacked one of the evildoers. Never before had Nishiyo's words made any more sense - rumors about magic users... He could see it with his own eyes...

In his surprise, he let go of the arrow, and it flew past Itsuki, aimed at the man who got attacked. The aim was quite off, but it was likely that it would at least graze his shoulder.

Yuki didn't say anything anymore as the gunshots rang out - his phone fell from its place, and he didn't think twice. He let go of the bow and grabbed his skate with both hands - while the unharmed man was busy with recoil, he sprinted towards him, aiming to smash the thing on his face.

The possible consequences of his impulsive assault never once crossed his mind - he had to get the other guy out of there, no matter what.
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Icarael
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Itsuki grinned as Garm's strike slashed his assailant's shotgun in half. Once more, his new power was finding itself very useful. Now, all that was left was to step forward and--

Then, Garm uttered a whimper, stumbling backward before disappearing into thin air. Itsuki could barely open his mouth before something slammed into his ribs and stomach, sending him spiraling into the ground. He clawed at his body in an involuntary spasm of agony, trying to pull out whatever it was that hit him, just to stop the white-hot pain searing his nerves to ash.
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