2018.04.09:DantesSquare
| Dantes Square pt2 | |
|---|---|
| Trying to make things better | |
| IC Date | April 9th, 2018 |
| IC Time | Late Evening |
| Players | Wyatt_Slack(st), Maria, Branton, Robert, Paul Barakat, Iseult |
| Location | Redemption Church on Dante's Square. |
| Prp/Tp | Dante's Square part 2 |
| Spheres | Mortal+ |
| Theme Song | Amazing Grace (accapella cover) http://youtu.be/7n145-J8ejg |
Dante Square
This neighborhood has seen better days. Once a thriving shipping hub with a railroad depot and dozens of warehouses with a thriving community of workers around them, this area has been hit by economic depression for at least four decades now and it shows. The streets are dirty and have potholes everywhere, the few open businesses are convenience stores and liquor stores, pawn shops, cheap restaurants and a couple of heavily guarded and secured marijuana dispensaries. Dante Square Park, once a jewel of the city, is now a cluttered, shadowed, graffiti covered no-man's land where only fools go after dark. Drug activity and gang violence are the norm here and hope is in short supply.
The clouds over the square are both actual and metaphysical. The gloom of late afternoon lends a solemn air to the area and the squalor, graffiti and crumbling infrastructure look somehow even worse than last time. Few people are on the streets, except for the congregation of the Redemption Church, who are meeting for evening services in the former K-Mart to one side of the Square. That small congregation feels the ominous tension, gathered together near the dusty glass front wall and doors, as though hoping the last of the day will raise their spirits. Even the usually druggie filled park is silent. For those who can see them, small spirits of dread roost on the power lines and the edges of roofs like carrion crows and fear spirits skitter like rats from shadow to shadow, following the few humans.
Once again Sofia has sent out the call for help from the Kinfolk community, but this time the aging wolfkin has a sinking feeling that just cleaning up streets isn't going to be enough. She's standing in the parking lot outside the church, shoulders set like a woman under siege. And when that help arrives, a careful observer could see her lips moving as she silently thanks god.
Guilt is one hell of a drive for a man, and one that did wrong, without knowing it, one that almost got people killed, and well here is Darius Yates, coming down with a backpack this time, packed with cleaning gifts for the others, and all sorts of goodies in that bag to make the job easier. He drives there on his brand new bike, poping down the kickstand, his outfit simple black jeans, and a tight black shirt, and a work bandana with the south african flag on it, and pair of black leather gloves, as hewalks towards Sofia, now with a nod of his head, as he sighs softly."I'm sorry for last time, and I did not know, I bring gifts in bag to help make it easier, on me."
Robert drives up in a dirty, if relatively new Jeep Patriot, stepping out of the driver's side with an easy gait, giving anyone he knows a grin as he heads toward the gathering. The tension in the air almost visibly gets to him, as his easy gait turns into a purposeful stride by midway, and his eyes roaming about the area.
Iseult rides up, announced by the loud roar of her harley's barely muffled engine. Louder seems to be better for most harley riders for some reason. She parks the bike and shuts it off, and goes toward the church. "Heya," she greets Sofia. "Heard you were lookin' for some help."
Maria showed back up when she heard of the call from Sofia. She's dressed pretty simply in some jeans and a black top. A baseball cap is pulled low, combining with falls of hair to half-hide her face. She would have caught a ride with someone else if possible. Hopefully they let her have shotgun, otherwise she probably annoyed them accidentally kicking the back of their seat as she bounced around to some song or another in her head. Or on the radio. Radio is better, because then she's not tempted to sing the one in her head.
Branton drives up in his truck again, wearing work clothes and ready to go. He pauses after getting out to unlock and check his cargo box. Darius gets a flat look and a slight frown.
Paul gets the word through the grapevine that help is needed, and responds. He packs up a few things that he can fit in his deep sling pouch, including that short sword, and puts it over his neck to hang at his side. He rides along with Robert, and gets out when he does. Those who have Spirit Sight or similar will notice a derpy looking coyote come around the Jeep with the two men. Cross eyes, bent tail and ear. He gives everyone a smile, and has a serious expression on his face.
Branton would totally let Maria have shotgun on the ride over.
Sophia shakes her head at Darius' words and says, "Something would have set them off. The evil, it's been getting stronger here. But thank you." She looks around the group, "Thank you all for coming." She looks towards the storefront church. The sounds of people singing waft out over the air, sounding thin and a little scared against the gathering gloom. She says, "You should all come inside."
"Okay then, but still feel bad, I did not know, I thought like....nevermind what I thought." The voice is coming out is South African, mixed with French, as he frowns slowly, Darius looks around one last time before he starts towards the door, waiting for the others. His body is tense, and his fist in little balls by his side, but he is going to be good, and he has to be good this time.
Robert gives a nod to Branton when he gets out of his vehicle, pulling his necklace out to show the new ring on it before he makes his way toward the door. "Good afternoon, ma'am." he offers to the lady calling them inside.
Maria smiles to Sophia, walking over and reaching out to give her hand a little squeeze. The teen goes inside then, moving off to the side, over towards the corner. Maria leans against the wall there as she looks around the inside of the K-mart. Church. Well, Church with an Junior Miss section anyway, according to the sign on the far wall.
Branton grabs a slender black cylender from the box and tucks it in his belt under his jacket at the small of his back. Following along after locking the cargobox back up and returning the assorted nods of greeting.
"Nice to meet you Miss Sophia," Paul states, following along with the others. Branton will probably notice he is actually wearing his ring on one of his fingers, his cat's eye amulet down inside his shirt on a strip of leather around his neck.
Iseult nods to Sophia and follows her inside, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "I can get a couple other guys if you need," she says quietly. "They meant to come but got, umm, distracted." She looks around, waving to Branton since she knows him a bit.
Inside there are fewer worshipers than last time some of the kinfolk were here. Perhaps twenty at most. And Reverend Strayhorn looks more weathered and tired, but he gives at least a polite smile for the group. "Welcome." He sighs and looks back at Sophia. "Are you sure this was a good idea, Sister? The last time...." He trails off.
Maria leans against the wall, scuffing her shoe against the floor like a disaffected teen as she watches everyone else come in. Maria spots something and wanders over to where an old mannequin still stands, moved aside to make room for the church. Maria reaches out and tries to reposition the arm, but it comes off at the shoulder. The girl looks about as if to make sure no one saw her break it, then tries to reattach it. That only makes matters worse, the mannequin falling over with a loud clatter. Maria drops the severed arm and quickly moves away from it, hands stuffed in her pockets.
Iseult glances at the front, freezes and goes pale. She closes her eyes tight and looks away with a shiver. "Right..." she looks twoard the peracher man and Sophia instead.
Robert largely ignores the clatter of man-i-ken and begins moving around the congregation, making some small talk, getting to know them, and reassuring them that things will be fine.
Darius stands there quietly, as they speak removing his backpack, placing it on the ground with a wide smile, as he kneels down unzipping it quickly, starting to unpack it, everything one needs for a massive cleaning, garbage bags, gloves, chemicals, and all sorts of items, everything is top shelf, no knocks offs in this drop off.
Branton loses maybe half a step as he looks at the windows on the front of the building but continues on in. After glancing aside briefly at Maria and then Darius he looks over to the Reverend and Sofia, waiting patiently.
Paul nods to the Reverend somberly, catching on to his nervousness. His gaze goes around the room to the various worshipers, but he flinches as the mannequin falls over, his eyes shooting to Maria.
The crowd seems to calm as Robert moves through them, soothing fears and getting to know them. They are all blue collar and local, having grown up, married and raised their own families in this benighted neighborhood. And when Maria has her accident with the mannequin, nervous laughter lifts the spirits of the crowd. Some of them look curious at what Darius is unpacking. About that time, the doors open a single young man walks in. He seems angry, jumpy, from the look in his eyes perhaps high on something. He takes a few steps inside and yells, "I thought we told ya'll. No more of this church shit. And no more outsiders!"
Maria wanders back over, hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to be small after knocking the display statue over. Well, she is small already. Trying to be smaller. She glances up, hearing the nervous laughter and it makes her smile. The petite Romani teen looks over, seeing Paul's stare. See Paul, she was -helping-. Well, Maria didn't say that, but she thinks it awfully loud. But then the angry man comes in. Maria takes a step or two back, looking around for something close by in case this turns violent. Oh hey, a club. She picks up the mannequin arm, keeping it behind her back.
Branton wasn't too far from the doorway when the the loud mouth comes in and he turns to frown, standing at ease with his hands behind his back "And who are you then that you get to make that call?"
Iseult turns too, who wouldn't? and looks at the loudmouth. She starts to say somethign but Branton beat her to it so she stays quiet.
Darius tense up on the floor, holding tightly a swifter as he watches, and he is fighting the urge to leap up and to brandish it as a weapon, and his eyes locked on to the man, that wicked smile crawling over his face, and that look of madness coming up, but it seems ti waver to fade like heat on a blacktop, back and forth till he bites his lip hard, and it vanishes his normal look returning, a little bit of blood dribbling down his lips.
Paul gives Maria a smile then, and shrugs his shoulders. When the guy comes through the door all bitchy he arches a brow, and glances to the others, his shoulders tensed up. Branton gives out the question, so he just waits for the answer. He isn't very intimidating looking, and keeps his hand casually on his pouch.
The young man gives Branton a hard look. "Who am I? Who the fuck are you? What are you even doing here? This ain't your hood. These ain't your people." He looks past the group to Reverend Strayhorn and says, "If you won't learn, we'll teach you, old man. Starting right now." He starts to turn away and leave. Outside, the gathering darkness doesn't hide a group of a half-dozen or so young men. Their features are cast into harsh relief by the sudden flares of fire in some of their hands. Molotov cocktails, it looks like.
Robert gives the wrung out young man a smile, follows him toward the door and... oh, that's not good at all. "Hmm, does anyone have a fire extinquisher?"
Branton looks out past the loud mouthed leader as the molotovs are lit outside. He frowns slightly as one of them explodes, setting the pant leg of the ganger holding it on fire as their buddy jumps back. Branton says to the leader "They really should be careful when they play with fire."
The young thugs weren't prepared for things to go disastrously wrong. The ones who aren't on fire stare in shock and horror at their friend, freezing up in a way that shows their relative inexperience.
Maria just stands there looking towards the street gang. Suddenly one of the guys with a molotov starts jerking it around, a surprised look on his face. He grabs it with both hands, sort of shaking it awkwardly. What the hell is he doing? The guy beside him says, "What are you doing, throw it you dumbass!"
Iseult doesn't see any extinguishers, not to hand. "Shit shit shit," she mutters as she runs down an aisle, looking for the signs for extinguishers or fire alarms.
Darius stands up qucikyl now, and his eyes glowing with that madness again, seeing it all taking it in now, and it was okay to be himself, it was okay to lose himself in violence in the war dance, and in the carnage, with a little chuckle, and he runs towards the man, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulder low to the ground, as he scrams out something in Africka, and his voice is loud a chant almost, hitting the man square in the stomach, as he stumbles, back shocked falling right towards the ground, his head bouncing off a sharp corner as he falls/
Paul will pick up what Jorge fears the most, or what would unnerve him the most to see as he steps back outside, or attempts to - whever he looks at his buddies. He can't seem to find a friend around him, giving him a panicky sensation of now facing enemies in front of him, and others he just pissed off behind him.
Robert gathers the people together and gets them organized, pushing flamables away from where they are sitting (wood, paper, etc) and using metal (shelving, coolers) as a barricade to protect the innocent from incomming harm. (which should also, hopefully reduce any bullets that might follow)
Branton glances as Darius gets tackled and tilts his head as he looks outside again to see the other thrower suffer a similar accident "Its almost like this house of god has guardian angels with all the bad luck your boys are having. Might just want to call it and go home."
The gypsy teen is apparently sitting this fight out, just watching, holding onto her mannequin-arm-club. Though she stares intently out at those in the street. When Stan gets around to drawing his weapon, the magazine just falls out of the gun to clatter on the pavement, leaving him with only 1 round in the chamber.
"Mine now little man, and my stick of justice." Darius laughs softly, as he reaches down towards Jorge, with a wicked smile, as he rips the pistol up into the air, and then he spins it quickly in his hand, with a little chuckle, as he holds it now towards the others, he is aiming but not yet fighting."We kill them or scare them?"
Paul seems to ignore everything for the moment, keeping up the pressure on Jorge of being alone and panicky, although he hears the others and is aware somewhat of the explosions outside.
Stan draws his pistol but then lets out a startled, "Shit!" when the magazine releases and clatters down to the pavement. He has one shot left, but with Jorge inside, he can't shoot without risking hitting his friend. Meanwhile, with two teenagers on fire, their friends have stripped off their jackets and are trying to smother the flames, keeping all four distracted and out of the fight for now.
Robert grabs a pair of stout, working dads and heads to the back of the k-mart to check the fire doors, making sure the alley is clear before motioning to bring others that way.
Robert heads first down the alley to make sure they don't get jumped, before anyone else even comes out the door.
Branton frowns as Jorge as his troops start to flee "Now stay there and take your lumps. At least nobody died."
The gang members, confused, frightened and in pain see Jorge seemingly at bay inside and knowing the locals could call the cops at any minute, finally break and flee, scattering in different directions.
As Jorge turns to run, Maria turns her attention to him. Have you ever seen an uncoordinated kid whose foot snags his own leg as he's running, tripping himself? Well, that's what happens to Jorge. One moment he's starting to run, the next his foot hooks his leg and he goes down on his face again.
"Now for the soccer punt." Darius lines up, gets ready running towards the man, his foot lands but it bounces off on the belt, with a loud sound but no damage to the man, with a little sigh and a little frown on his face, as he loks down at the man."Your ours now, little pup, you will be all alone with us."
Paul turns when Jorge is down, helping Robert to make sure the worshipers in the room make it out safely as the others finish up with the thugs.
An elderly woman, one of the worshipers, is moving slowly, using her cane. She looks scared, looking to Paul and Robert for protection as the congregation is led out the back away away from the threat of fire.
Iseult -finally- finds the stupid fire extinguisher. "THese are supposed to be -obvious!-" she growls at it, grabbing it off the wall and hauling it back toward the front as fast as she can.
Branton can't really begrudge Darius the kick "Hold him for the cops. Its up to the preacher if he wants to make the call. Someone should call an ambulance for the guys outside though."
Robert makes sure the members of the congregation that can't defend themselves are paired up with the ones that can so they can get home safely, and that everyone has a ride home if any walked before heading back inside. Through the front door if the gang has left.
With the congregation safely evacuated and the fire hazard cleared, all that is left is to hold onto the once again dazed Jorge until the police arrive. Whatever is going on in this neighborhood, it is obvious that it's bad and escalating. And these people need help that the city can't seem to provide. As night falls, the gloom and silence returns to the dying square. And all that is left is the aftermath of violence and fear.
Maria walks over to look at Jorge. "We need answers from him?" Maria asks as she slaps the end of the mannequin arm down into her palm. It's meant to be a menacing gesture but Ow! that hurt! Maria shakes her hand out.
