Fantasy Unscheduled Roadtrip

[Bhae]

Bright sun beat down over a small city park, the grass field glistening with rain drops. The storm had been so abrupt-and had ended so quickly-that more than a few people stopped to stare at the sky in shock. Now everything was clear, without even a hint of the dark clouds that had rolled in moments earlier.

In the far corner of the park was a dog run, tennis balls and Frisbees abandoned in the haste of pet parents scrambling back to their cars under the torrential downpour. A basketball court squared off the other end of the park, and trees encircled the rectangular space except for the street side, which housed a sidewalk, a modest parking lot, and some furry-looking lump with a growing puddle around it.

The lump groaned and shifted. Warm sun felt nice considering she was soaked head-to-toe. A slender hand appeared from beneath the furry dome, skin pale white and rippled with goose bumps. Another groan, and some muttering as she rocked from side to side and pulled her knees up under her body. She lifted her head slowly, fingers curling into lavender hair that clung to her cheeks and forehead.

Hard…the ground was hard. Like rock. She narrowed her eyes and glanced down. It was black rock, of all things. How strange.



Now that she was sitting upright on her knees it became more apparent that it was a young woman wearing a thick furred cloak that fell to the small of her back. Her hair, lavender, was long and had once been tied back as an intricate braid. Now, only half of it was contained, and the rest had been blown loose to stick to her neck and face. She was small, petite, but definitely not a child. With dark lashes and slender pointed ears she maintained an eerie beauty despite her disheveled look.



“Are you okay?”



She blinked, looking up at the sky first, then around her until she spotted an older woman with greying hair and a small white dog with curly fur wrapped up in her arms. She was a stout lady with rectangle glasses, and a sweet face. But the purple-haired woman had no idea what she was saying. Even when the dog-walker spoke again, she received only a confused expression in response. Vivian teetered to her feet and shook her arms, flinging water everywhere. Her cloak felt like it was fifty pounds, so without much concern over the matter she unclasped it, letting the mass drop to the ground with a squelch.



“Your wolf is very small,” she commented- this time receiving a confused look from the woman as gibberish had left her own lips. “…and possibly sickly.”



With this advice given, the small woman took off walking briskly down the road. She made it a whole four steps before the world around her began to spin. Vivian paused, throwing her arms out to catch her balance. She glanced downward at the asphalt and cautiously lowered herself to her knees to poke at it again, scratching gently at the white painted lines of the parking spaces. She checked her fingernails for any residue, and when she found none, shrugged.

Now concerned that she had discovered a crazy person, or at the least a young woman with a concussion, the middle-aged dog walker began looking around for someone to ask for help. She just needed someone with a phone on them, or a car to flag down, and she could get this wild-haired woman some help.

 

[redletalis]

It was a cesspool. That was what the papers and newscaster had just recently called this particular part of the city, the big cesspit and blemish on the spotless record that the rest of the city was. And they were right, it was hell personified. Dirt, grime, garbage both human and not all over the place, dumpsters in every ally and crooked police patrolling the streets. Whores were everywhere, pawn shops would take anything you wanted to sell without asking questions and the gangs and drug-lords would take your soul if you weren’t careful.

This was not a place for children, lone girls hoping to make it big, families or elderly people. But this was the place where Chey had grown up with his mother. The woman had been a whore, a junkie and pretty much everything in between, and his father had been an unknown Joe of Asian descent - giving Chey his rather unique set of features. But other than that he was simply like everyone else there in the cesspit, born and bred there, and awaiting his death there whether it be quick or slow in coming.

“Stop daydreaming and get cleaning and locking up!” the boss shouted at him, whacking the back of his head as he passed. “Clean up, close up and get the hell out.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chey watched the grey-haired ex-army man walk up the stairs. The club was closed for the day after an entire night of a packed house. The bartenders had long since gone home, the cage dancers had gotten dressed and left right after the bartenders, and the other two bouncers were gone as well. This week it was Chey's turn to stay as long as the boss wanted, and then lock up everything once the boss gave the go-ahead. It was an especially exhausting week. Sometimes the boss was a complete bastard and kept them there until way past midday, and then the guy expected them to show up on time come evening.

He did a quick check on the till, the safe, the various doors and made sure that no one had hidden away in the toilets - or died from a drug overdose - and then he left. The streets were wet and the air smelled almost clean after the sudden showers, and it was almost pleasant weather. He didn’t care about the poor and homeless people he passed, he ignored the whores that tried to proposition him, and he easily ducked around random fights suddenly breaking out or people stumbling along like zombies. This was nothing new to Chey and he had long since stopped caring or fearing anything that the city had to throw at him. He just wanted to get home and sleep.

The park with the basketball court marked the end of the bad part of town, and Chey felt at once a little bit better. The chance of someone jumping him to rob him at this point was greatly reduced, and he slowed his pace slightly, intent on enjoying the wet greenery almost sparkling in the bright sunlight.

Yawning loudly as he passed underneath the boughs of the trees, Chey didn't bother stopping or staring when he spotted the odd purple-haired young woman poking at the ground. Instead he pretended not to have seen the scene at all, and made to give them a wide berth. In these sorts of situations it was best not to get involved. Besides, he had seen far worse.

 

[Bhae]

The stout woman sighed agitatedly. So far two cars had passed despite her frantic waving, and one couple with a stroller had broken into a jog just to get away from her. She vaguely missed yesteryear, when people would at least wave to you, or say hello with a generous tip of their head. Now, unless there was blood or drama involved, attracting other people to your location for help was outrageously complex.

“Oh to hell and back,” she muttered angrily, wrapping the leash of her dog-Princess-around her wrist before she set the little curly mop dog down.

Just as she was about to haul the young woman off on her own she spotted a new stranger walking along the sidewalk.

“Oh! Wait- please, hold on, just a second,” she scurried after him, fighting to catch up to the long strides. When she finally caught up to him she reached for his arm. “Do you have a phone? This girl…I don’t know, I think she’s lost. I was going to call someone, but I just don’t have my phone.”

Vivian ‘hmm’d’ and belatedly turned toward the woman’s voice. She had not even noticed Chey until then- but he was awfully tall. This piqued her interest and she again stood up away from the floor, stumbling to the left- and then to the right- before she seemed to catch her bearings. Were it not for the lack of any alcoholic odor on her breath, one might have assumed she was drunk.

Only one out of the many words exchanged seemed to register to her. Lost. She knew what that meant. Lost. Vivian looked around her again, and scooped her wet cape off the floor. Yes…she supposed she was lost. This place smelled funny. Looked funny. And both of them had funny round ears like a troll. There was one thing that was the same; she could detect a vein of magic running through this world. Faint, perhaps. Alien with disuse and neglect…but it was there.

She strode up to the tall man, dragging her cape on the floor so that it left a wide wet streak against the slowly drying concrete. Vivian placed her hand flat atop her head, and slowly drew it forward to see where about she measured up to him in height. She seemed to give little concern for the invasion of personal space, but stepped back, quirking one eyebrow up as if impressed that he was more than a head taller. Beneath the cape she was wearing dark brown hide pants that laced at her knees, and a cream colored tunic with embroidered hems. Oddly enough, she did not appear to be wearing anything on her feet.

Her mind was beginning to clear now. Memories of how she had arrived began to circulate. Oops, she thought. I'm going to be in trouble when I get back.

 

[redletalis]

Of course his luck wouldn't hold up. Of course there was an annoyingly pushy Good Samaritan running around just when Chey was passing by. The thought of wasting his time on a drunk or a drug addict when he would rather just go home and sleep, was enough to ruin the good mood that had built up thanks to the nice weather. For a brief second Chey considered just walking on, pretending not to hear - or just knocking both women out and be done with it - but then he sighed and gave in. The purple-haired druggie he wouldn't mind punching, but the old lady and her fluff-muffin of a dog? Yeah. He wasn't that evil.

"Yeah, sure." He started looking for his cell in the coats various pockets, all the time cursing himself silently for not having walked on and just dealt with the bad conscience later on. Hopefully this situation would be quick to resolve and he could be back on his way to bed within the next ten or fifteen minutes. Hope's spring's eternal!

He had barely pulled it out when the young woman who had started all of this shit, sidled up next to him. Chey blinked at her and stared as she measured the difference in their heights. With her this close it was easy to observe her. The purple hair was dyed, the pointy ears had to be some sort of special effects or some weird new cosmetic operation. The clothes told the rest of the story, though.

"A cosplayer." It was half statement, half groan. "You've gotta be kiddin' me."

She had to have been at a party, someone must have put something in her drink - or she had taken drugs on purpose - and then she had just been turned lose on the streets. Or had simply walked off. Without her shoes. Who knew what those cosplayers got up to in private?

"Right, girlie, what's ya name?" Chey asked her. Her eyes seemed to be focusing and clearing a bit, so perhaps she was merely in the last throes of whatever intoxicant she had taken. "Hey, answer me, girl. Where ya livin'? We gotta get ya home. Or to a police station."

Collapsing in bed was looking less and less likely.

 

[Bhae]

The older woman smiled at him, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. At least some people still had a shred of decency. It was so rare to her now- she accepted the use of the cellphone with a gracious thank you, tucking the device between her ear and her shoulder to await the 9-1-1 operator while she fished through her pocket for a small money clip. She removed a twenty dollar bill, and thrust it out toward Chey with a stern motherly look.

“You take that and you treat yourself to something, young man. I cannot tell you how many people walked right past me before you stopped. It’s unbelieva- OH! Yes, hello, I’m here…”

Vivian smiled at him, cheerfully wriggling her fingers in greeting now that he had turned his attention to her. More gibberish. It occurred to her that she should have been able to understand him. Bright eyes shot down to her right hand and she flexed her fingers again, eyeing a thin pale band around one finger where a ring had obviously blocked the sun from sinking in to color the skin. The ring, however, was gone.

She cursed, glaring at her hand, and gave it a shake as if that would make the item appear. No such luck. And she didn’t see it around on the floor, either. The elf looked up at him again, brow furrowed and lips pursed as she tried to make heads or tails of what he was asking her. Name. That one was familiar.

Her expression lifted, and she grinned at him. “My name is Vivian.” Just like the woman had discovered before, Chey would find that her words made little sense. To the untrained ear her language might sound like any other latin-based romance language, but it was not any known in this realm.

Her voice was pleasant as well- not overly high pitched and not gruff or low, but somewhere in between friendly neighbor and chipper stewardess. However, it was also thick with an interesting accent. She fidgeted again with the bare finger on her right hand, teeth pressing lightly into her lower lip. She could use another spell, really. The only downside was that it allowed communication with one person at a time, instead of translating languages for everyone in the vicinity.

Vivian glanced at the older woman, down at the dog, and then up at Chey again. He was closer.

The elf cautiously reached toward him, fingertips extended with the aim of gently touching the back of his hand. Normally she did not exercise such restraint, but he looked quite like someone who did not like to be grabbed by the hand and Vivian was not so out of it any more that she would risk angering a stranger. If he held still long enough for her to touch, he’d likely feel a small spark similar to static shock, but accompanied by a cold chill as if her hand was ice.


“My name is Vivian,” she repeated, watching his face for any sign of recognition toward her words. The spell was not very efficient, she had to remain in contact with skin for it to work, but it was better than nothing. “Can you understand me yet?”

 

[redletalis]

Chey... was left blinking down at the girl for a few moments and then he sighed heavily. Rubbing his tired eyes with one hand, he used the brief moment of darkness to try to calm himself. Committing murder on an open street was not going to be conducive to his future plans of sleep. Especially if those someones were an old lady and a stupid cosplaying teenager with purple hair whose one goal in life was to drive exhausted bouncers to the brink of homicide.

"Okay, now I'm really startin' to get annoy- the fuckin' hell you doin', girlie?" he dropped his hand and stared at her and the way she was reaching out for him. Not only was she talking gobbledygook, she was moving as if he was going to pounce on her and eat her any moment now. What the hell kind of situation had he stumbled upon here?

A small jolt of ice spread through his hand when she touched him, and he frowned. She had to be really cold after that rain if it was transferring to him like this. How long had she been out in the rain anyway? Her clothes were obviously soaked, but that could have happened in five minutes with the way the rain had been tipping down. Had she been out in the summer storm for longer than that?

"'Course I can understand ya now that you've stopped talkin' nonsense." Chey grumbled. "What the hell was that with the gibberish, girlie? Some sort of Klingon language or somethin'? I dunno what party you've been to, darlin', but most people ain't well versed in geeky fandoms. Now what the hell are ya doin' out here in that costume? Did somethin' happen to ya?"

He was seriously hoping that nothing had really happened, that her fandom-language lapse was because of whatever intoxicant she had imbibed, and that this was all a big misunderstanding and that he could get to bed gods damn it!

Also, if the damn old lady and the fucking police could speed it up, he would really appreciate it, thank you.

 

[Bhae]

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” Vivian answered, each word leaving her lips slowly and with more volume than was likely necessary. The more she listened to him speak the more a horrible, terrible notion began to dawn on her. His rounded ears- no knowledge of her kind. His lack of understanding for her language…it was all beginning to add up.

The smile that had previously adorned her face faded slowly, and she sighed. Vivian rolled her eyes back into her head and turned her face skyward, head dropping back in a quick and dramatic lurch as she let out a frustrated groan.


“Oh no, you’re a human, aren’t you?” She huffed, drawing her hand away from him. Depending on how receptive he was to magic in general-something she could not tell by simple contact-he might still be able to translate what she was saying for the next few minutes.

As far as she was concerned, he would do her no good whatsoever! Humans were boorish, underdeveloped creatures. Everyone knew that. “I cannot believe I got sucked into human-ville. Of all places. It’s going to take me eons to find someone that knows how to get home.”

The older woman, apparently named Kathy as that was the name she had given the operator, held Chey’s phone back out to him. “Thank you so much, dear. They said they’ll be here any minute. I can keep an eye on her until then. I don’t think you have to stick ar…ound?”

Kathy’s eyes widened slowly as from the corner of her eye she caught sight of Vivian doing something bizarre. The elf was holding out her hand, palm up, as ice began to form in her grasp out of thin air. First as a sphere, and then a long stem grew downward from it between her fingers, flaring at the bottom like a wine glass’ flute. The dome itself caved in, hollow like a cup before it filled slowly to the brim with water.

Vivian was thirsty. So what better way to get a cool drink than from an ice glass? The shape of the glass suggested she had a stronger drink on her mind, but she wasn’t able to conjure spirits. Otherwise she might have.

The elf noticed Kathy’s shocked stare and gaping jaw, but she saw no point in trying to explain. It all came out as ‘gibberish’ anyway. She flicked her wrist toward the asphalt, ice spreading around her feet and beneath them. Frost crawled across her bare feet themselves, followed by two /clinks/ as icy blades resembling those found on skates propped her up a couple of inches. It would seem she was preparing to skate right out of there, wine glass full of water in hand.

 

[redletalis]

Great. They were back to the incomprehensible Klingon-jabber from before. Forget having imbibed something, Chey was starting to think that the girl wasn't quite right in the head and that she had escaped from a mental institution.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me." It was a muttered comment and it was accompanied by a roll of his eyes. This really wasn't his day at all.

He gave a noncommittal grunt when the old lady gave him his phone back, pretending that he actually cared about what she had just said. At the same time he turned sideways and started flickering his fingers across his cell phone, bringing up the last call and its information.

Chey didn't notice the forming ice at all. He was far too busy checking his cell to see just how much the recent conversation had cost him. He stood on a tiny incline in the asphalt that was made to funnel water into the underground system, so when the ice formed under his feet he slid sideways with a yelp and wild waving of arms. It took a few comical seconds before he caught his balance, and then he blinked incomprehensibly at the sight in front of him.

The ice, the girl with the ice-glass and the ice-skates made out of, well, ice.

It was an impossible scene and Chey's brain refused to accept it. However, he wasn't completely frozen stiff - oh, bad pun, brain, bad! So not the time, gods damn it! As a bouncer at a club in the worst part of town he often had to react to threats in dark, confusing environments, and that skill transferred easily to the current situation.

"Ya ain't gettin' away!" Chey grumbled as he shrugged off his duster. In one smooth move he caught the garment by the collar, and flung it forwards. It wrapped around the purple-haired... whatever she was. It was long enough for the other end to wrap around until Chey could grab it again, and with one strong jerk he pulled her back until he could wrap his arms around her. And if his coat was between his skin and her hands, well, that was just in case she suddenly had the ability to create knives of ice.

"Where d'ya think you're goin', girlie? What the fuck's goin' on here?!" Chey growled.

 

[Bhae]

Vivian remained blissfully ignorant of Chey’s reflexes kicking in until the very last moment when his coat wrapped around her from one side to the other and grew taught. Her eyes widened and she yelped, dropping the ice glass in her hand. There was a brief moment of flailing on her part to match his own previous comical dance, but it only lasted for as long as it took him to yank her back and grab hold.



She huffed and wriggled, fruitlessly trying to squirm her way free. “Hey! Let go- how rude-you royal pain in the-“ she barked at him, all the while twisting, fumbling to try and get a hold of skin somewhere. Even if it was just the glance of her fingertip. The ice skates disappeared from her feet, leaving her a couple inches shorter again with an abrupt thud onto the ice, which also began melting back into the puddle-soaked asphalt. There was no real sense in trying to skate away with that giant of a human hanging on.



It did not take her long to realize that he was strong enough to hold her without really struggling. So she stopped the haphazard squirming and sighed, panting softly to catch her breath. Kathy, meanwhile, had barely moved a muscle save for picking up her small mop dog. Vivian tilted her head to look up at him, studying his face. She considered freezing the coat solid, to see if that would make him let go of it…but it would not serve to make him less suspicious. So instead she held up her hand, fingers wriggling and extended expectantly.



“You have to touch it,” she glanced between her hand and him a few times- again shaking the hand, wriggling the fingers, in the hopes that he would understand that her ‘gibberish’ had only stopped before when she touched him.



Kathy had taken a few steps back by now, hesitant to leave but desperately wanting nothing to do with the strange girl now that she was somehow supernatural. Her gaze was only drawn away from the pair by the appearance of a black truck, windows dark and impenetrable. It rolled slowly into the parking lot, lagging a moment before the engine shut off.

Vivian noticed it, too- though her curiosity over what in the hell it was superseded any sense of danger. The passenger’s window rolled down, revealing a trio inside- two up front and one crammed in the back of the cabin, but all leaning forward with wide smiles to peer over at Kathy, Chey and Vivian. Of all three on the blacktop, Chey would be the most equipped to realize that these were not kind smiles. They were the sickly, hungry smiles of someone up to no good and enjoying every moment.

Drawn by the unnatural storm, and some other omens that would indicate a large amount of magic used, the trio had piled into the car and hauled ass to the city- only to end up scouring the streets when the storm ended, desperately hoping their quarry had not traveled far. The passenger leaned out of his window, twirling what appeared to be a long steel needle between two fingers. He was fairly young- perhaps still a teenager in contrast to the gruff looking forty-something-year-old that was driving.

"Hey ehh, do us a favor and bring that over here, would ya?" he gestured at Vivian, grin widening. "We've been lookin' everywhere."

 

[redletalis]

He ignored her struggling easily. It barely rated on his fight-o-meter, and she didn't have the strength to break free of his grip. Unless she did the... the ice thing. However, the ice was steadily disappearing - even her skates were gone - and Chey was starting to feel a bit more comfortable and like the world was back to how it was supposed to be. No freaky-deaky stuff happening here. Nope.

"I ain't gonna touch ya hand after what ya did." He deadpanned, leaning back from her wriggling fingers just in case, but still not letting go. Did she really think he would be stupid enough to fall for such a ridiculous ruse? Even with the blathering - seriously, how long was she going to insist on pretending to talk another language? - Chey didn't actually have to understand her. All he had to do was to bring her to the closest police station, dump her ass, and then get out of there as soon as possible. That sounded like a perfect plan and it could be his good deed of the year or some shit like that.

Chey's plans to get some well deserved sleep were, once again, going down the drain. And this time it was because of a black truck showing up and slowing down. The old lady had called the police, but this sure didn't look like them. Nor acted like them. This was so suspicious and stereotypical that Chey almost wanted to cry right there. Or give the idiots pointers on how not to attract attention. Instead he un-wrapped his little captive from his coat and put it back on, but he made sure to keep a grip on her arm as he did so.

"Buddy, if ya wanted a date that badly all ya've gotta do is go 'round the corner and visit the whorehouse there. There ain't no need to threaten to roofie the poor chit." He gestured almost negligently towards the bad side of town. "And I've gotta tell ya, bud, ya ain't lookin' much like any sort of social worker. None of ya do."

Even as he spoke, Chey moved one step forwards, putting himself just barely ahead of Vivian and the old lady. These guys were looking for trouble, and they seemed to come amazingly prepared for some very specific sort of trouble, too. There was something going on here, and though Chey was hesitant about getting involved he also highly doubted that these guys would let him and the old lady simply leave.

"Do me a favour and move on, yeah? he added while at the same time wondering exactly what they had inside that truck of theirs, and just how difficult this fight was going to be.

Oh, all this trouble better be worth it in the end.

 

[Bhae]

Vivian did not need to understand his words to understand his refusal as he leaned back away from her hand for added protection. She rolled her eyes, dropping the hand in question- very visibly pouting. None of it mattered all that much. Not really. Eventually he would have to let go, and then she could run off back to…somewhere. Shit. She still had no idea where in humanville she was.

The stranger in the truck laughed-a genuine laugh-and swiped his hand across his eyes. Chey’s clever wording had not only put him in a good mood, but it had earned the tall bouncer at least some respect. With a sigh to ease the fit of giggles threatening to take over, the young man tucked his long needle between his teeth like a toothpick and cracked open the door.

“oof-“ he grunted, the door coming to an abrupt, firm halt before he had managed to swing it open more than an inch. “What in the…ohh, you sly vixen…”

Vivian’s now free hand was outstretched toward the truck, a trail of ice running from her right foot, up onto the vehicle. It had encased the tires, and run along the grooves and cracks of the doors to keep them shut with only a few crackling and popping sounds to give her away. Even without knowing what a car was- she knew what wheels were. And doors. It was not too complicated for her to figure out.

The driver of the vehicle sighed, expression empty as if bored. He turned to the third in the back of the truck, issuing a few instructions, and the lanky member of their team patted him on the shoulder in response. Vivian tugged, leaning away from Chey, groaning with a mixture of frustration and impatience. She knew she should have gotten that ring sized. It wasn’t the first time it had fallen off.

“Alright, bud. I get it. Good Samaritan and all, that. Let’s start over, yeh? I’m Dan. My driver pal here is Bill-and this skinny bastard in the back is Jack. And I get that this is all real confusing but believe me- this is way above your pay grade. You don’t know enough yet to get yourself into trouble, but if you stick around too long I don’t think I can let you walk away.

For once, the gods seemed to be smiling on them all. In her agitated grumbling and leaning, Vivian managed to spot a faint glimmer…lodged between the mop dog’s teeth. Her eyes lit up, brows lifting as a grin broke through. She pointed frantically at the dog, and then to her teeth, gaze resting expectantly on Kathy. Oh please, look. That’s my ring! I need that!

“Oi- what ring is she going on about?” Dan finally barked. There was a faint flicker of concern in his eyes as he again reached down to jiggle the door handle. If she had magical items that might really screw them over. They had not planned for that in their haste.

Kathy looked over at Dan finally, eyes wide. “You can understand that?”

“Yeah I can understand that. Not a common language here, but it comes in handy where I work.”

The realization that Vivian was pointing at her shifted to-no. She’s pointing at the dog. The woman looked down, pushing back the beard of fur to see the little ring locked between her dog’s teeth. “Hey! Drop that.”

Her chiding worked, and the dog plopped the ring on the floor, licking his lips after. Kathy picked it up and gave it a rub across her shirt, eyeing Dan and then Vivian who was still reaching out for the ring. Ignoring Dan’s repeated ‘don’t give her that’s’ she took a few steps closer, eyeing Vivian, and then stopped to look at Chey.

“I don’t know…what do you think?”

 

[redletalis]

The implied threat just made him raise an eyebrow slightly in surprise, before his eyes narrowed. Above his paygrade, was it? Well, wasn't that just down right interesting. Exactly how high above his paygrade were they talking about here? The look of the car, the clothes that the trio wore, and that syringe that implied that they knew what they were dealing with and came prepared... it all painted quite the nice picture. A very exploitable picture, too.

He only took his eyes of the trio in the car when the old lady approached. She was holding a ring in her hands, Chey's purple-haired captive was reaching for it, and the syringe-obsessed Danny-boy was obviously not for Vivian actually getting her grabby little fingers on the little thing. What? Was that the One Ring from those odd elf-movies? The trio in the car certainly seemed to think so, and Vivian's actions seemed almost tinged with desperation to get to it.

This was just getting more and more interesting.

In one smooth movement Chey swung around, pulling Vivian with him. In one quick move he had reached over to Kathy and had taken the ring in one hand. At the same time he had moved Vivian until her back ended up pressed against his chest, arm holding onto her opposite wrist and pinning her lightly in place. The hand holding the ring was hidden behind his back, out of reach for everyone present.

"Now then, let's all take just a moment to chat, yeah?" he smirked. "The way ya three react it's obvious the little girlie ain't a demented cosplayer. And the ice-thing she's been doin' certainly ain't a major hallucination on my part. So. If ya don't wanna let the little lady get her hands on this ring-" Chey briefly showed the golden band before he hid it behind his back agian, "-I suggest someone starts talkin' and explainin'. Startin' with who the hell ya are."

In this position Chey was poised well enough to either defend or attack. He had a hostage (or two, depending on how important the ring was), and he had leverage for bargaining. He could easily move his arm up and either choke Vivian or even snap her neck. If the trio in the car tried to shoot Chey then Vivian would be hit instead. And if they had some other sort of threat up their sleeves, Chey would be handing the ring over to Vivian. He was also perfectly placed to be able to flee through the park, Vivian in tow.

The only person who would be in serious risk, would be Kathy. But she was an old lady, she had lived a long life. She probably wouldn't mind possibly sacrificing herself for a couple of young people. Or some shit like that. Like a herd of reindeer being chased by wolves, the oldest became the canon fodder while the younger ones escaped. Law of nature.

"Well?" he took a couple of steps backwards, stepping up on the curb and away from the car.

 

[Bhae]

“Bill, shut up,” Dan hissed at first, then repeating himself louder and with more annoyance. The driver was none too pleased with how slowly things were progressing. ‘back in his day’ this went a lot smoother. There wasn’t any pomp or circumstance, you just walked up and stuck the target. Left people with a headache the next morning wondering if it had all been a dream. That, or you hit them with a dart. None of this candy-ass, back and forth, bullcrap.

Finally, Dan felt he had endured enough of the mutterings and spun around to thwack the older man upside the head. “Oi- you know why we don’t do that anymore? Because we get arrested when we do that, that’s why. Now drink your prune juice and be quiet, old man.”

Bill did not take kindly to that treatment-it was clear by the red color burning across his face, all the way up to the tips of his ears and across his temple. And yet, he did not retaliate. From the very beginning, Dan had been the spokesperson, but not it appeared as though he had some rank to pull as well. He turned back to Chey, again leaning out of the truck window so their conversation would not need to be shouted.

“Look you gorilla, I don’t know what that ring does, but I wouldn’t give it to her if I were you. Although I guess she’s taken a shine to you, seeing as you aren’t frozen solid already,” he added with a hint of sarcasm, before continuing in a more serious tone, “Either that or you just ain’t pissed her off yet. They’re very temperamental types. Unpredictable. And that makes ‘em dangerous.”

Kathy had picked up her dog again at this point, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and stroking the dog’s fur. The dog, in all this, seemed unfazed and bored. It must have been old, and even tempered, to endure all the tense energy in the air without even a gruff warning bark. “Oh dear..”

“I’m not trying to make trouble here. I’m just trying to do my job. And that psycho shortstop you’ve got right there is not a human being like you and I am. Go on and give the ears a flick, they’re real. The ice is real. Except elves like her don’t sneak into your shop at night and finish making shoes out of the kindness of their hearts. They’re evil sons of bi-HEY”

Taking another page from Villainy: 101, Dan had kept talking while Jack, in the rear of the truck cabin, had prepped a tranquilizer dart. Vivian could not understand any of what they were saying and was studying the shape and form of the truck rather than listening…so she had seen quite clearly when the barrel of a dart gun- something she did recognize- slid ever slowly forward into a growing crack in the top of the rear window.

A brief upward nod of her head, and ice jutted upward like a fist ramming into the under carriage of the truck, tipping it sideways. Jack’s dart flew off course, skittering across the asphalt harmlessly as the truck groaned and came to a slow crash on its left side. If Chey took a moment to notice, he’d see that the ice had been accumulated using remaining moisture from the storm. The concrete nearby was dry- and so was the grass in a large circular gap surrounding the truck.

Vivian seemed very pleased with herself, giggling at the truck-tipping fiasco she had caused as Dan struggled to climb out of his open window.

 

[redletalis]

"Ya're all actin' more and more suspicious, buddy. The more ya do the less I wanna leave even a rock with ya, let alone a livin' bein'. And ya might wanna brush up on those insults. My dead granny can do worse." He couldn't help the comment. Serously, Chey had seen children with far more skills in threatening people than Huey, Dewey and Louie here.

Chey was already moving the second the dart hard been fired and had gone wrong. He pulled Vivian with him as he ran, passing Kathy and her dog at full speed. The old woman was left to fend for herself, but Vivian was forced to keep up with him through the park and then out on the other side. Chey ran into the first alley that he could find that was narrow and definitely too small for the truck to come through. Hopefully it would be too narrow far any other cars that might be in pursuit - if there were any. He certainly wasn't about to stop and check!

He took sharp turns through several alleys, crossed a busy street and ignored the angry shouts and car horns he left in his wake. Running into another set of alleys, Chey continued to pull Vivian along at a full run until they reached a chainlink fence. Panting slightly as he was forced to slow down, Chey headed straight to the left-hand corner of the chainlink fence. It was hidden by a container, but Chey used his back to nudge it away slightly without having to let go of Vivian nor give her the ring. He only moved it enough so that he could lift the corner of the chainlink.

"Get goin'." He motioned for Vivian to go first. "C'mon. Dunno if those fucks are still after us, and I ain't plannin' to stay here to find out. We'll need to go underground for a while. Move!"

Chey looked the girl up and down. The way those three guys in the truck had reacted and talked, then she truly wasn't a delusional cosplayer. She was something unknown to Chey, but those three had definitely known at least a little bit about her. Perhaps a government science experiment gone wrong? Or a hidden species of humanoids? Pocket universes like they talked about in superhero comics?

He smirked slightly. Either way she was bound to be valuable to someone. All Chey had to do was find the one willing to pay the most for her.