Participants:
| Scene Title | Quiet Riot |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The food thefts come home with an honest-to-goodness food riot in the middle of the Red Hook Marketplace. Peacekeeping is done in interesting ways. Also, holy crap, this log. |
| Date | March 5, 2018 |
Red Hook Market
Monday, March 5, 2018. 9:00am
The timeline of events that led to this morning was a grim one.
At the end of February, the Red Cross food depot that provided the safe zone with a critical lifeline was raided, with over fifteen hundred pounds of food stolen and spoiled. Then, two days later, on the 2nd of March, the Safe Zone Collective’s storeroom was pillaged by some unknown party, the shelves overturned, and all of the food stolen. It was taken without anyone the wiser, despite being stored inside a heavily secured facility, behind a locked a steel door and surrounded by a market of nosy people that had little better to do than to keep an eye out for something out of the ordinary.
But that is not the real problem.
The problem is that people are hungry, and food is a necessary thing for survival, just below water and oxygen. This basic need produces an economic tension between those with food and those without. Thanks to the loss of the Red Cross stores, the prices in the market for goods, when they can be found, have nearly doubled. In some cases, hard-to-get things like chocolate, milk, and butter, simply cannot be found. Most of the stalls that would sell food are closed, and the one that managed to open has two burly-looking guys with cudgels on either side of the entrance, hired to guard the small stock of extremely highly priced food that there still is. Budgets, already stretched tight, begin to snap as the costs of purchasing a good meal start to become untenable. Out of necessity, some people have started rationing themselves, cutting portion sizes and pushing the high-calorie stuff to those that need it most - the children. Others start ranging further into the ruins to scavenge than would be normally safe, and some simply skip meals and think about other things as best they can. Though their thoughts always come back to food. Small knots of people are gathered around the square talking, but the subject is always the same. Where can we get something to put into our stomachs?
Well, Lance certainly isn't going to suggest the Bronx Zoo, even though he knows it's a veritable smorgasbord of exotic meats at the moment. He's pretty sure his sister would literally murder him if he tried to add reindeer to the menu.
The teenager's prowling around the Market with a backpack of scavenged valuables looking for a deal - to pick up some bread, or some peanut butter, or something. He can feel the tension in the air, of course, but surely the food rationing hasn't gotten that bad yet that people would resort to violence?
Sometimes he's an optimist.
There's a light tap on Lance’s shoulder and then next thing you know his eyes are covered by pale cold hands, wine colored lips are close to the boy’s ear, “Guess Who!” Aunt Eve tries not to snicker too much, the mood is dire but that rarely has any effect on Eve, she's in her own world. The older woman notes how Lance has grown in the back of her mind, all of her “kids” were getting so big.. Brynn.. Hailey.. Her Little Joe wasn't so little anymore.
She does hum, that’d be a giveaway. Well the whole antic is a giveaway but she's having fun seeing her nephew. Her cream colored dress is cut in a few places, legs peek out of sandaled feet. Her battered messenger bag hangs on her shoulder loosely swinging from the momentum of her movements.
Times like this…Raquelle doubts his decision to return to New York. But being driven by sensitivity and wanting to do the right thing has led to daily bitching from his pre-teen and teenage daughters and a majority of his rice being stolen by ghosts and ain’t no ghostbusters around to deal with the problem. This has not left Raquelle in a very good mood, but his own emotions have had to be pushed to the side so that he can be available to help out. He is currently located outside of his shop, straddling a lawn chair backwards, forearm resting along the back, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He’s dressed simply, pair of fitted black jeans, dark magenta and white converse sneakers, a black and magenta band t-shirt and a leather jacket tossed of it.
He is just watching for now, occasionally getting up from his post when he sees someone with little ones passing by or someone who looks sickly to pull out another lawn chair and offer them a seat, and a simple cup of warm broth. He’s had to do this before. But where he’s keeping the broth and etc…it is not readily visible. Broth is easy, lots of hot water and a few packets of seasoning and what not. And while they are there, he is chatting…cracking jokes and what not.
This early morning in the market is somewhere that Caspian normally isn’t at this time of day. With his job having him go all over the safe zone, morning generally consists of figuring out where he needs to go, what work needs to be done, and the like. Today, however, he’s in need of a specific part for someone’s air conditioner. With replacements harder than hen’s teeth to find, he’s haggling with a shopkeeper over a few cans of refrigerant and a spool of copper tubing that can be used to repair all sorts of things. Up for trade are a few working electronics, a couple of cans of food, and a small bottle of Tabasco sauce.
At the beginning of every week, a food truck arrives a little before nine in the morning, distributes what it has to the hungry, and then leaves. It’s been a fairly consistent thing since the Safe Zone's establishment. While there's never enough for everyone to get everything they need, there's almost always enough for everyone to end up with something, with trading taking up the slack.
The space where the Red Cross normally distributes its food is manned by Sister Nora and her acolyte, Bridget, each standing behind a half-open security gate where a queue stretches into the market. These two are normally the ones that hand out the care packages, passed off by the Red Cross guys in a truck, and they're in the process of trying to keep the line calm. "They're coming." Sister Nora tells a small group of people surrounding her, reading from her clipboard for a moment before fixing the group with a steely glare that worked wonders on children in Catholic school so many years ago. "They'll back in, we'll distribute like usual. They managed to redirect some stuff from a different depot here, so something is coming." What isn't said, and was has been worried about since the loss of the safe zone stores, is that there won't nearly be enough.
And as if on cue, a white truck marked with the ubiquitous Red Cross logo pulls up into the alley behind the loading dock where Sister Nora and Bridget stand, backing in. Two nervous-looking workers get out - one starting to work on the trailer itself, the other moving around to talk to the Sister who retreats behind the gate to chat in privacy. After a few moments she looks at the clipboard, looks at the crowd, frowns, and then nods, making her way back to the gate.
"Ladies and Gentlemen…!" she calls, lifting her hands. "Quiet down, please. I've got an announcement." She looks over her shoulder as the men continue to work on the trailer. "We've got a shipment of food and we'll be distributing it shortly. Please be patient. We'll take care of as many of you as we can."
“How many is that?” Someone yells from the crowd. Sister Nora looks over her shoulder at the truck that has now been detached, the white trailer left there with the catch undone, then back to the crowd. “As many as we can.” is her only response. “Bridget! Open the truck and let’s get unloading and get these people home.”
The Red Cross truck rumbles off, sans trailer.
Oh no it's crazy Aunt Eve.
"…hi, Eve," Lance replies in wry tones after a moment's tension at being surprised like that. Fortunately his first instinct — which was to grab her arms and judo-throw her over his shoulder — was repressed as he recognized her voice.
That would've been awkward.
He brings a hand up to brush her hands away with a chuckle, "Thanks for the tickets the other day— " Trying to turn, "Oh, hey, the food truck's here!"
See? Everything's going to be fine!
There's a wink and then Eve is shrugging a shoulder like no big thang. “You haven't been by for any cookies,” Aunt Eve is offended. She places her hand on her face, “Oh!” There is indeed a food truck and the seer walks by with Lance.
She clutches her messenger bag tight to her chest.
Joe is here! He's here! He's well… he's late. Actually Joe had no plans to be here at all. He's just wandering this way when he sees a crowd, and some familiar faces and decides to come see whats up. "Hey Lance! Aunt Eve! Raquelle!" He waves energetically at the crew as he walks closer, peering at the truck as he hears the lady's announcement and the reaction from some people in the crowd. "Oh I hope this doesn't get ugly." Joe's steps are still peppy despite the possible bad morning for a lot of folks. "Food makes people crazy." He comments once he draws closer, stepping near Eve and Lance.
Passing the traded items over to the shopkeeper, Caspian tucks the cans of refrigerant and the copper tubing into his backpack, securing it and slinging it over his shoulder as he watches the crowd gather around the loading dock where the Red Cross truck has left its trailer. That’s kind of odd - those trailers are everywhere in the zone, and having one just left in a loading dock to be unloaded is a bit unusual. Still, he thanks the shopkeeper and moves out into the square proper, heading toward the coffee kiosk to grab an overpriced cup for the morning commute, giving Lance and Eve a wave. He saw them at the swap meet last night. Why not be friendly?
The hairdresser unstraddles his chair as the food truck is pulling up, and he’s reaching down to pick up a child that is not his own and place the toddler on his hip as he drapes an arm over the shoulder of said child’s mother. “Well see darling, I told you that there would be a truck sometime soon.” There’s an one armed hug as Raquelle passes over the curly headed 3 year over to her mother. Raquelle shooing motions and nods towards where lines usually form for the trucks. “That’s more than alright, you bring her in next week for a trim. Go get you some food sweetie.” He catches a glimpse of Lance and Caspian and Joe and Eve and flashes a grin and a waggle of fingers before adjusting his sunglasses and turning his chair back around the right way so he can sit back down.
The crowd is soothed by the sight of the truck, a few people jostling for position at the front of the line as the trailer is unhooked, the trailer out of sight, before the truck heads off to wherever it needs to be. The sister in her Nun's habit, blue jeans, and steel-toed work boots puts on a resigned expression as she flicks through the manifest handed over by the drivers - a sheaf of papers that's not nearly as thick as the ones she got previous weeks. Still, she'll make due. she always has.
"Sister Nora?" Bridget calls from behind the partition separating the truck from the crowd. "I think you need to see this…"
"Bridget, dear, it doesn't matter right now. Just start bringing it out."
"Yes, sister." Bridget replies.
"Mothers with children come up so we can get you formula!" Sister Nora calls out, passing out the first of the supplies. For now, the crowd settles into a restrained calm as things start to get back to normal somewhat.
Boxes of supplies start to emerge from the truck on a rickety handcart pushed by the acolyte. One is deposited and, after a moment, she's back with another one, taking the now empty cart back to the truck in an efficient transfer of stuff from point A to B. The food boxes are the usual fare - rice, beans, granola bars, that lovely oily peanut butter, oatmeal, canned juice and vegetables - enough to feed a small family for a week on light rations. Mothers with infants get cans of formula from a battered cardboard box to the Sister's left.
It's going fairly smoothly, too, until the truck is empty about halfway through the line.
Bridget brings out the last cart and whispers something in Sister Nora’s ear. The nun freezes, looking up, then at the crowd, before sprinting back to the truck and freezing in shock.
“God help us.” Sister Nora murmurs, crossing herself.
"I've been busy," Lance objects even as he walks towards the food lines, gesturing with his hands, "Hailey got shot, and— " Wait, he wasn't supposed to say that. A beat, and he clears his throat, "Anyway, I've been busy. Hey, Joe."
He tips his chin up in an affable nod, "C'mon, let's get some re-supply for el Casa del Gerken." He's learning Spanish for Silvia! Sort of. Not really.
Caspian and Raquelle get an easy wave, and he settles into line. Unfortunately it's the back half of the line.
“My Joe!!” Aunt Eve is always excited to see the excitable Joe. She leans in to pinch his cheek with a grin and pat on the back. She sees a wave from the Caspian man and she waves before rounding on Lance, “About that,” Eve raises an eyebrow, “I was there at the hospital,” that she's now banned from. But we mustn't speak of such things. “You keep Doolittle close, if she wanders off. Drag her Home. It's not safe there,” She shudders and waves at Raquelle as well and gives the hairdresser a eye to eye motion, we got work to do on this do foo.
As the nuns up ahead are beginning to tell that there isn't enough food Eve looks over to her two nephews. “Remember that time we were in Central Park.. and all those homeless people started jumping up and down like monkeys,” they were running and it was a ‘mini riot’ but such things are minor details for Eve so monkeys and jumping it is.
Joe catches sight of Caspian as well when he sees that wave and lifts his own hand in an exuberant wave, making sure Caspian sees the greeting through the crowd, then he turns to look over at the truck as stuff is being unloaded. "That truck… has nowhere near enough food on it." Joe comments softly to the group at hand, being Lance and Eve. He shoots a concerned look at the crowd, then looks to the rest of the group. "This could get ugly.." He can't help but grin at crazy Aunt Eve as she pinches his cheek.
"Heya Aunite. How are you? That was crazy the other night. Was that a tuba? I could have sworn I heard a tuba the other night when you left. Why would there be a tuba? And… yeah that's not happening. Hailey will just sneak off. And it's a three hour trek by foot to get to where she's at. We can't drag her three hours back by force. Lance's arms just aren't up to that." Joe blinks slowly at Eve and her comment. "Whut? Central park? Homeless people? What are you talking about?" He glances at Lance, an eyebrow raised. One of her visions? Do they even know about her visions?
Oh good, he’s been noticed. Caspian makes his way through the crowd as best he can toward the two people he recognizes by name and the one that he glimpsed at the swap meet the previous evening, catching the last part of Joe’s monologue. “Auntie?” he says with a smirk. “Never knew the Lighthouse Kids had an aunt, Lance. You need to tell me these things, Lance.” he offers Eve a hand. “We didn’t meet last night due to lots of people patronizing your services. I’m Caspian Dussault. A pleasure, Miss….?”
Yes, even in the middle of this, Caspian is trying to be polite and meet the friends of his friends.
Raquelle tilts his head to the side as he regards the progress of the food being handed out and the like, watching until he sees the mothers getting their formula and such before he exhales softly. The hairdresser gets to his feet, picking up his lawn chair and closing it, occasionally looking up to take note of what is going on. ere’s a small shake of his head as he notices things look a bit tense amongst the sisters and he worries his bottom lip turning to head back into his salon to put away the chair. Maybe to get his bat. Who knows.
Sister Nora approaches the table, the last stack of twelve boxes next to her, at least fifty people waiting. She's clutching her rosary in her hands, working through the beads as she approaches, her lips moving slowly as she prays the rosary, the cross moving as she shifts the beads through work-worn hands.
"Ladies and Gentlemen." She calls, lifting her hands after tucking the rosary away. The crowd silences, all attention on the diminutive woman. "Could anyone with extreme need be let to the front of the line? - particularly families with young children or infants? The allocation was…." She bites her lip with a frown. "The allocation was short this week. We've given out almost everything we have. There isn't going to be enough for everyone."
The crowd is silent for a moment, a few people talking to each other, voices a low murmur. A woman, bundled in a threadbare coat, a toddler held in her arms, moves hesitantly to the front, looking at the angry faces of the gathered people. She is given a box of food and a can of formula, loading them into her backpack quickly, dumping it all in and barely zipping it closed. She can feel the tension boiling over in this crowd and, once she's loaded, she moves quickly out of the way, heading for some back alley way out of here.
With the mother and child out of the way, attention turns to the eleven boxes of food remaining, protected only by a nun and an acolyte. "We'll divide the rest of the food out and…
"No!" A man shouts. "I waited in line. I /need/ food for my family too!" The crowd rumbles, surging forward a little. Someone clambers underneath the table, slipping past the sister to grab a box for himself, running out of the back.
10 boxes of 12 remaining.
The crowd starts to surge forward, pressing against the security gate, anger building.
A bottle is thrown, shattering on the gate.
And then the riot begins.
"We don't really have any Aunts or Uncles, there were just a lot of adults that helped take care of us at the Lighthouse," Lance explains with a shake of his head and a wry tone to his voice as Caspian expresses surprise, his hands spreading a bit, "So our.. uh, extended family is kinda big, really." Also it's mostly people being fictionalized on BBC One right now, and written about in history books. He tries to downplay //that/ too.
"Homeless— oh, you mean the time that… uh oh." He cranes his neck to see over the line as the nun starts talking, and then there's that shout.. "Oh shit. We should…"
The bottle shatters on the gate.
"We should run."
“Mas, you can call me Ba-” before she can finish that sentence for Caspian she hears the bottle shatter on the gate and she stiffens before she's holding onto the both boy's shoulders with a tense expression in her face.
“Oh..” Eve looks at the surging crowd and tightens her grip as she moves the guys past Raquelle with a look to Caspian before she removes her grip from the boys and jumps ahead of them. “Boys! Baby Blues! Let's get!”
Eve is running to the side of the market hoping to be able to avoid the bulk of the riot while she has Joe and Lance with her. Caspian does get a nickname. A hand goes into her messenger bag.
"Oh. Yeah we have lots of aunts, and some uncles, but mostly aunts." Joe comments shrugging his shoulders. "I mean, they fill the role of aunts and uncles, so might as well call them that. They took care of us, watched out for us, fed us, clothed us and… most important of all protected us. They're family. Each and every one." Joe offers Caspian a big smile, though that smile falters as he looks over at the empty truck and the people still waiting, which includes all of them towards the back of the line. He frowns a little, looking around as things start to get tense.
"Screw that." He comments to Lance's statement that they should run. He himself ducks forwards, weaving through the crowd. And he's good at weaving, cuz elbows and what not in the face don't bother him any. Once he gets towards the front he'll hurry towards the nuns. "In the truck in the truck get inside before they get violent. Unless you have somewhere safer?!" He shouts to be heard over the roar of the crowd, trying to get the poor nuns to safety, or relative safety anyway, trying to get them into the trailer, or somewhere else that might be safe. Joe doesn't run from danger, he runs into it. Blame Brian.
Caspian is in the process of shaking Eve’s hand when the bottle shatters against the gate, the man lifting his hand up to form an invisible shield, instinctive ducking down to avoid splinters of glass kicking in. Yes, they’re far enough back to where that’s not going to be a problem, but old habits die hard. He looks to Lance at his suggestion to run, but when Joe scampers out in front, there’s not much he can do but remain where he is, protecting, waiting for direction.
Sister Nora and Bridget quickly abandon the table as crowd surges forward, retreating into the depths of the loading bay. Sadly, there are really very few places to go. The empty trailer is blocking the main bay door and the small door next to it used for people is locked. Some work may be able to get that down, but with a crowd starting to riot, there may not be enough time to get it open without bashing it off its hinges.
The crowd….actually, scratch that. The mob pushes towards the half-open security gate, hands reaching out and ripping it open, leaving it dangling limply off its hinges. Several burly men start to try and force their way through the opening but, in their haste, can't seem to figure out that one needs to go first so the others can get inside. This gives Joe the perfect opportunity to slip between the mens' legs, into the loading dock, where Sister Nora and Bridget cower next to the locked door.
The remaining boxes are snatched up and torn apart, the contents scattered over the floor. Bags are accidentally ripped open in the haste to get them, rice and beans dumped into the dirt, ground into nothingness beneath the boots of the crowd. Cans and bottles are ripped free from their cardboard confines, shattering on the concrete floor or, in the case of things that don't break, bouncing between legs before they're scooped up by greedy hands and squirreled away. Cans of formula are grabbed and taken, thrown into the crowd where some are kept safe while others are ripped out of the hands of those who managed to catch it, some breaking open, dusting the place with a cloud of dried milk. The crowd rushes forward through the breach finally, searching the trailer and the loading dock, finding nothing.
Without those targets, the mob turns, the violence starting to blossom into a full-blown riot, spreading from the empty loading dock to the stalls surrounding them, looting the contents with a roar.
The two MP’s on duty come running at the first scream, almost immediately on their radios, calling for backup before trying to calm the crowd. “Remain calm! Return to your homes!” Their shouts are lost in the din of the crowd, the sound of shattering glass, the breaking of wooden tables.
"Joe!" Lance makes a frustrated sound as his friend goes running off into the tumult. "Damn it, you're not actually invulnerable," he shouts after the nigh-invulnerable teenager.
He doesn't follow. He's not quite as nigh as Joe is.
Instead he's ducking off to the side as well, as Eve does, moving to duck behind a stall's makeshift tables for cover. As the riot starts to spread, though, that may not be as safe a spot as he hoped!
There's a hiss as Joe barrels forward into the crowd. Her eyes are wide and she looks to Lance, “Silence some?” Before she's a whirling mass of fabric and dark hair as she runs towards the crowd and leaps on top of a few people. “Whoooa, whoop. Joe Joe!” She shouts as she crowd surfs on top of the men, she takes quite a few blows to the back and the backside of her head. “Ow, he-hey!” A guy screams out in pain as she plunges a knife into his shoulder and pulls herself forward before she tumbles down into the crowd.
As she almost meets the floor a couple of men fighting roll beneath her and save her from being trampled but she gets one boot to the face that gives her a bloody nose. The seer snaps up, dazed by the foot to the face but then her eyes narrow and she leaps onto the nearest man beside him clinging to his back and beating on his head with the hilt of her knife.
THUNK THUNK THUNK
The man spins around as Eve rides his shoulders kicking out at people around her as she cackles with laughter, “Whoaaaa horsey!” She tugs on his ears as he swings around blind as her dress is over his face.
She's fighting through to Joe, can't leave the favorite nephew behind. Hard head and skin or not.
Owain had brought along some salvage that he had found, in the hopes of trading it for some food. The Mihangles were pretty well off, but there’s still that fear of running out. However, things have rather quickly devolved into chaos, and the backpack filled with metal salvage quickly became a liability more than a valuable commodity.
Owain’s never really been much for a fight, but this is a bit much. The metallokinetic shoves people away as he ducks into cover, conveniently close to Lance and company. “Jesus!” He ducks a thrown piece of rubble, which puts him right next to Lance. Oh hey, another Lighthouse Kid.
Joe is pushing the nuns back and away from the crowd, standing in to protect them. There's a guy or two that he has to put on the ground, but he's more than capable of doing that without seriously hurting them or causing any kind of lasting damage. An arm twist and a kick out to sweep someone's legs is usually sufficient to take the wind out of their sails. So he has to go slight kung fu on a couple of guys, but he herds the nuns back out of danger, or as out of danger as he can get them.
"Sorry. I should have been closer to help you ladies out of there. Didn't think the crowd would get violent. Figured angry, but not riotous and…" Then he catches sight of Eve… being Eve. He looks non plussed, then darts forwards to grab her hand and pull her out of the crowd. "Aunt Eve… why?" He asks, blinking at her, and shaking his head. "Is that blood? Did you stab someone?" This is whispered to her. "Hurry hide that knife before the MP's get over here."
There's an exasperated sigh, but he does give her a hug in the middle of all the chaos. "I wanted to protect the poor nuns. They were kind enough to come out here and help distribute food and I didn't want them getting hurt." He guides her over closer to the nuns and lets out a low sigh. "People are such ingrates. Raging like the food being brought to them is their right and not a kindness being given to them."
Okay, Raquelle goes inside for ONE MOMENT, then comes back out when he starts hearing the commotion. His tall frame fills the doorway to the temporary salon location and he just stares for a moment, baby blues flicking from one person to another. He even catches a glimpse of a woman riding a man in a very non erotic way and he blinks slowly. “…what the shit?”
He takes a deep breath when he notices the MPs as well, doing a quick assessment of the situation at hand. Then he’s snapping his fingers trying to get a clear line of sight on the group of LHKs. He signs as he speaks, just ASL because he doesn’t have a LHK Decoder Ring for that Cant stuff. “Crazy and Jojo are probably where they need to be to keep the nuns safe. We need to get the children and elderly inside and off the street. Focus, create a safe zone…” He points to the Salon. “Create a few clear paths…” Trusting Lance and Owain to translate as needed.
Then he pulls himself away from the doorway, taking another deep breath and exhaling softly as he closes his eyes for a moment striding towards the corner of the mob edging too close to the vicinity of the Salon and those local buildings. He ducks a few pieces of rubble and grunts as his shoulder is clipped by a bottle but he is taking another deep breath as he raises his voice. “OI! Which one of you bitches took my rice?” He lets his ability wrap around his words, a piercing tone drenched in authoritative disappointment and edged with doubt and uncertainty. “If you could please just raise your hands we can kindly ask the rest of you noisy motherfuckers to piss off…c’mon now, don’t make me ask again. Which. One. Of. You. Bitches. Took. My Rice.” He tries to buy some time, cause a bit of distraction between the MPs getting their reinforcements and the Mob setting the world on fire.
Caspian has twenty-five square feet of force field to work with, so he’s going to do his best to keep people from getting trampled, crushed, or otherwise messed up. Tapping Lance on the shoulder, and watching eve crowd surf with a knife for a second, he inclines his head toward Raquelle. “Just tell me where you want my barriers and they’ll go.” He lifts a hand, the shimmering barrier deflecting a mis-thrown rock. “Stay behind me if you’re squishy.” Caspian says to anyone who might be listening. “If you’re getting near the pepper spray, there’s a respirator hanging off my backpack that’ll help.”
Inside the loading dock is mostly safe. A few opportunistic people peer in, see that there’s nothing to be had without a fight, and then go back outside to try and get lucky somewhere else. Sister Nora and Bridget cower at the doorway of the trailer, peering out around the barrier wall at the chaos swirling outside.
Outside is a different story.
The riot - about fifty people strong, now - starts to push against itself, working its way along the wall, shouting. One guy tries to get a chant going, trying to turn this into something other than it is. A protest on poverty, some might say later, but honestly, it’s just a bunch of pissed off, hungry people needing an outlet of some kind. The two MP’s are armed with clubs and pepper spray, which they start using liberally, spraying anyone who gets close while shouting for people to disperse. The radio crackles. Support is coming by way of the rest of the Safe Zone Collective police force. Hold out for just a bit longer.
The shopkeepers with sense have pulled their shutters down, closed their doors, or simply have enough manpower on the payroll to keep people out. One of the other streets - one not being blocked by the MP’s, is being guarded by a father and a son team, each carrying a Louisville Slugger that seems to have been used for crowd control before. They’re not attacking anyone - they’re just being threatening enough to keep people from coming down that street and into the rest of the market proper, with a third woman standing in front of Eleanor’s coffee stall with a street broom, ready to whack anyone who comes near.
Raquelle’s announcement, somehow, gets the attention of a good portion of the rioting mob - about of quarter of them feel their rage kind of bleed away after the bellowed question from the immaculately dressed hairdresser. One even tries to lamely answer that it wasn’t them. The ones being pepper sprayed by the two MP’s don’t hear the pronouncement, though, and that group starts to retreat down a side street, eyes stinging, noses running.
That leaves about twenty five pissed off rioters, currently ravaging a small stall stocked with electronic parts. MP reinforcements are coming, which means tear gas is likely.
"Eve! No— " Too late! She's off, and Lance watches her helplessly for a moment as she springs into the crowd, a knife glittering in her hand. He breathes out a sigh, two fingers rubbing between his eyes. "Eve is fucking crazy," he mutters as explanation to Caspian, peeking up over the edge of the empty stall to take stock of the situation. “Owain?!” A blink to the other teenager, “What’re you— nevermind, keep low!” He doesn’t know what Owain’s ability is, or he might ask for help. He sees Raquelle's hands move, chin dipping in a slight nod.
Tactical brain engaged!
"It's going to be a mess if they start dropping tear gas," he mutters, grabbing the 'offered' respirator from Caspian's pack, "Alright, just try and shield anyone who falls over or anything - I'm gonna try and snap them out of it."
That said, he hurdles the stall table and he's off! Keeping low at a run towards the angry mob tearing apart that electronics stall, ducking past some brawling people, he skids in alongside it and sweeps his ability outwards - an unseen bubble that wraps around the stall and the rioters and completely cuts them off from the sounds of the market beyond them.
Hopefully it'll be enough to confuse and startle them out of their FOOD RAGE. There isn't even anything in the stall to eat!
“Yes yes it is Joe. Joe, now help Aunt Eve get these old sisters out the way of the train that's about to take them to heaven.” She slips the knife back into her messenger bag before grabbing an arm of one of the sisters and looking at Joe. “Go go, get to your brother.. ah! I forgot.” She's not aware that some of the people are being affected by Lance’s ability and then. She's pulling a megaphone out of her bag and is shaking it in Raquelle’s direction.
“GIVE EM A LITTLE CHER!”
And she hurls it over the crowd of people to hopefully land at Raquelles feet, hands. Something.
Owain blinks owlishly at Lance a few times. He would be more excited to see an old friend, but there’s a bit too much going on for reunions between old friends who haven’t seen each other in nearly seven years. He watches, a bit shocked, as Lance runs off and does his thing; then, the young teenager peeks out, staring at the surroundings with wide eyes. What does he do?
Suddenly, the boy’s eyes turn a shockingly silver color (pretty much mirrors instead of eyes), as he reaches out, sensing about for something he could use to contain the mob — preferably something that won’t, like, hurt people, because he doesn’t really want to hurt people…
Joe shakes his head a little bit. “Not going to go get Lance. He wanted to run. I want to help. And we’re not getting the nuns through that crowd Aunt Eve. Best we just hunker here and stop anyone that tries to hurt them.” Joe remarks, staring at Eve for a moment. "What are you." He winces and covers his ears when she pulls out a megaphone. "Where did you even get a megaphone Eve?" Yeah, Auntie Eve is nucking futs.
He shakes his head and turns to the Sisters. "I'm so sorry. Aunt Eve is a little uhhh unique." He turns as someone stumbles a little too close, and Joe just redirects them back into the crowd with a nudge and then turns back smiling at the nuns. "But seriously, thank you for everything you do. These people are being ungrateful now, but they're tired and hungry and very cranky. Please don't give up hope on the rest of us okay?"
But lo, what gift has fallen from above to his feet…it clatters there as Raquelle spares a glance down when some people are rethinking their life choice and/or running from tear gas and pepper spray. Give them some Cher…
As he kneels down to pick up the megaphone, it dawns on him that she is not speaking in French. He grips the megaphone and straightens up with a squint in the direction the thing flew from. But things are escalating. Caspian has the force fields, Owain has the metal apparently looking just as freaky as his daddy’s eyes for a moment, Joe is semi-safe with the Nuns and the Nut (with good bone structure). Lance is springing into action and he trusts he knows what he is doing so he just spins smoothly around, clicking on the megaphone.
“Gooooood Morning Safe Zone, this is your friendly neighborhood queen coming at you from the Red Hook Market. Looks like there’s a real case of Hangry going around and some people have decided to act like some damn fools…but that is alright. We’ve got these friendly law enforcement people sprinkling plenty of pepper and passing the kinda wind you can’t kick your lover out of bed for. Might be time to swing back in doors and act like you have some home training…” It’s not gonna hit everybody he knows, really. It's a shot in the dark, casting his gift out like a fisherman’s net of calm and light heartedness. He can’t make anybody do anything, but maybe…just maybe turn down the volume of hangriness for the rest of them.
“So, as we all calm the fu-dge down..lemme level with you…” Oh god, his daughters are going to kill him, as his foot starts tapping. “Let me ask you just one question.” Yep there goes the tiny hip twitch that goes along with the disco beat that he can hear in his head.
The trained vocals begin to belt out the anthem of his people from days gone by. “Doo you believe in life after love? I can feel something inside me say, I really don’t think you’re strong enough no!” Cue the hair toss. “Do you beliieve in life after love? I can feel something inside me say. I really don’t think you’re strong enough, no!”
He remains hopeful though, this better work.
Caspian nods to Lance’s direct order and takes a few moments to scan the crowd. He may not be as invulnerable as Joe is, but his shields might as well be. Taking a deep breath he makes a curved shield in front of him, grabbing his goggles from his backpack dangling from one shoulder, the zipper ripped open, his roll of copper tubing visible barely in the morning light. Then, using that shield - about five by five - Caspian shapes it into an angle and, much like the prow of a ship, moves /through/ the crowd toward one of the entrances. When he’s there, he flattens it back out, allowing people to flee the square while containing a small portion of the rioters, using his other shielded hand to bat away anything that may be flung in his direction.. He’s not looking to hurt anyone either.
Lance’s exodus from behind Caspian’s shield is met with a few rioters, but they’re more interested in getting out of the cloud of the pepper spray that’s slowly moving into the middle of everything. The respirator helps, though. A lot. Lance’s eyes may tear up a little, but he doesn’t start coughing from the pepper spray in the air. His sound deadening helps a lot, too. The electronics stall is enveloped in silence, and it takes a moment for the people there to realize that they’re not making any sound. A guy flinging a VCR (anyone remember those?) on the ground is visibly shocked to see it doesn’t make a shattering sound, and the open-mouthed silent scream sends him and just about everyone else running. A crowd has no spine, it seems. When one runs, they all start to run.
The electronics stall is, more or less, saved. Twenty rioters to go.
The Sister and the Acolyte, which they will be more than happy to explain the difference, at length, over communion wafers and wine, are taken out of the loading dock, past the splintered table, past the silence of the electronics stall and can be led out of the area without being accosted. Since they’re not carrying anything, the rioters ignore them, and Caspian’s shield keeps those who are trying to get past from stopping them. Eve and Joe can escape the square with the sisters or stay to help. The sound of running can be heard coming from down the corridor Caspian is protecting. The cops are coming.
Owain’s shiny eyes detect metal all over the place. Corrugated metal in the electronics shop, a spool of heavy-gauge wire, an even thicker steel cable that’s normally used to keep telephone poles from falling over, and Caspian’s spool of copper tubing. All can be used.
And now, for the star of the show.
If it were only the song, it wouldn’t have been as effective as Raquelle might have hoped it would be. Thanks to the amplification, the Evolved ability putting out good vibes, and the pepper spray driving people into the sphere of influence…well….about ten rioters just stop. What they’re holding is dropped, they look at each other and, without a word, start to disperse from the crowd, some even shuffling their feet to the sultry sounds of Cher over a megaphone.
What am I supposed to do
Sit around and wait for you
Well I can't do that
And there's no turning back
I need time to move on
That leaves ten rioters, still ticked off enough about not getting food to try and rush Lance, Raquelle, and Caspian!
“Stop singin’, fancy-boy!” One of the men shouts, lifting his hand to try and smack the megaphone out of Raquelle’s hand.
As the crowd runs, Lance relaxes a bit, pushing himself up to his full height and running a hand back through his hair. "Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot," he quotes under his breath, watching them scatter…
…and then there're more people rushing, and his eyes widen a little. He doesn't cut and run, though, as other training kicks in instead.
He ducks under the reach of the first rioter, reaching up to grab his arm and spin, using his own momentum in a surprisingly deft move that sends him crashing into another one of the men. The spin's completed and he snaps a high kick directly into the face of a third man with a crunch of impact, sending the man stumbling back, cursing and holding his bloodied nose.
He might be good at this - startlingly so - but he's very outnumbered at the moment, and he's not that good. He'll go down in a moment or two if he doesn't get some help.
Caspian will feel the wire suddenly get much looser, and suddenly the copper wire moves as if it has a mind of its own. The spool floats gently out of Caspian’s pack, and the wire itself suddenly twists about, not unlike a snake. The spool itself floats gently over the heads of all involved, coming to land in Owain’s hands.
And then, the copper wire really comes to life. The ten or so rioters left who are rushing Lance, Caspian and Raquelle will find themselves suddenly cut short, as Owain attempts to snake the copper around their ankles and bring them crashing to the ground. All the while, Owain has his mirror-like eyes focused on the wire itself, one hand gripping the end as he watches his ability work its magic.
Whoever is brought down by Owain’s copper trick will find the wire suddenly coiling around their wrists, effectively tying them behind their backs as gently as possible.
“Geronimo!!!” Joe calls out, not having run away with the sister, but instead run over to help his friends and family. He comes running in behind the group of men and just throws himself bodily into them. Well, into their legs. He dives at two guys, hitting them in the knees from behind, sending them tumbling to the ground, then rolls up and with two snake quick strikes he snaps out a hand and jabs them in the kidneys. Not enough to do lasting harm, but enough to hurt like nobody’s business, and maybe make them pee blood for a few days. Bruised kidneys.
Once those two have been dealt with he looks up, flashing a wide grin at Lance. “Hi!” Then he’s running over to his buddy to help. “Hey assholes!” He hollers to get their attention. Joe is good at that. He gets the attention, throws some blows, takes some, and Lance attacks guys from the rear. He’s good at that. Extra good at that. He’s a ninja after all. Joe’s swings are almost never for the face, they’re for joints and stuff. He can punch harder than his weight would suggest, because he doesn’t have to worry about hurting his hands just punching some random dudes.
Remaining by the door, Caspian pushes forward as Lance is attacked, his shield allowing him to shunt people out of the way. It doesn’t make them easier to move - it’s just the use of angles and physics against unaware targets. A lot like a medieval knight would use a shield in combat, so Caspian uses his forcefields. A pair of Raquelle’s attackers are knocked out of the way, an extension of his forcefield going out to project in front of the Cher-singing hairdresser to keep him from being overrun. And he watches as his copper tubing is manipulated and tied around ankles and knees, sending people sprawling before being tied in tight little bows.
The rioters were not expecting so much resistance. Sure, maybe a MP or two, or some guys trying to keep their stalls safe, but when evolved abilities start being thrown about, directed at them, there’s not much they can do but try to get away, fall over tied up with copper tubing, bleeding from multiple impacts, knocked over by an incoming Joe, or just blocked completely by a clear shield. Add in the fact that Cher’s greatest hits are still being sung at full volume over a megaphone and you get complete and utter chaos. The remaining MP’s quickly come in and clean up without the use of tear gas. The rioters that are left are quickly taken into custody, the copper handcuffs still on them as they’re bundled up while one of the higher-ups in the Market try to get an idea of what happened, who’s fault it was, and all of that lovely stuff.
To their credit, Sister Nora and Bridget come back when the insanity ends, giving statements about who did what, completely absolving Joe, Lance, Owain, Eve, Caspian and Raquelle from any kind of wrong doing. “They stopped the riot. They kept us safe.” Sister Nora told the man. “They should be thanked.” They don’t even want to press charges.
Others chime in. The shopkeepers who were there, and even Eleanor from her coffee shop, who saw it all from her perch behind the broom-wielding woman, share their stories of what happened. Food ran out quickly, there was a riot. An open and shut case.
Bridget does sidle up to Raquelle, inviting him to sing in the local choir, too.
And so, Raquelle Cambria almost had to bitchslap somebody for disrespecting Cher in the middle of the good repeat part of the song. That megaphone was slapped but musician expertise in hanging on to microphones just meant he held on to it like his fiancé holds on to his back pocket when they are around other gay men. Tight as can be and rocking a bit into the motion. Thankfully the Teen and Early Twenties Titans are on the job and Raq whips that megaphone right back up, taking a few steps back.
“Ifffff I could turn back time.” He starts singing solemnly and pleadingly, reaching dramatically towards the rioters getting karateed, bowled over, metallically hogtied, and shield smashed, drawing his hand in slowly, “If I could find a way. I’d take back those words that hurt you. And you’d stay…” And as they hit the ground and go flying and such he sings, and reaches out again but turns his hand so he can flip them off, middle finger extended and then slowly withdrawn.
By the time it's all said and done and things come to an end, he just stands there, reaching out and arm to offer Bridget a one armed hug and a soft smile, baby blues studying the aftermath with resignation. A community that turns on itself…is not long to last. Then a fond glance goes over to the Super Youngins. And Eve. And in them, he can see hope. And possibly drugs in the second one, but mostly hope.