ArchivedLogs:ZachNap

ZachNap
Dramatis Personae Zach
In Absentia	2013-05-07 Zachnapping.
Location East Harlem
East Harlem: the land of piles of garbage, grafitti and boarded up buildings. This lot used to be a basketball court before times turned hard. Sheltered almost under an old overpass, it was the place to be for the neighborhood's kids. Now it's a litter-strewn lot with clumps of unhealthy grass and weeds sprouting through broken asphalt. The homeless shelter under the overpass, building fires in drums and homes of cardboard, and pushing their possessions around in stolen shopping carts. The posts for the basketball nets still stand, though the nets themselves--and the fence that surrounded the court--have long since vanished. It happens sometime after midnight; Zach, doing his little speed-demon thing along some lonely stretch of road manages to catch some red-and-blue flashing behind him, winking at him from the rearview mirror. Maybe Zach's not interested in a police chase; maybe he's feeling tired; maybe the car's almost out of gas - who knows why? But for whatever reason, he's pulling over, winding his way into an abandoned lot somewhere in Harlem... with that flickering light behind him. The car that's flagged him down isn't a police cruiser - at least it doesn't /look/ like one. It's a sleek little gray Hyundai; looks fairly new and pricy. A flasher on top of it. Once Zach has stopped, the flasher is switched off. Which is, generally, against protocol. But Zach might not realize that. The officer inside of the car is in plain-clothes - as he steps out, Zach can see he's wearing a leather-brown aviator jacket, jeans, a white t-shirt, and mirror-shades. White dude, mid-30s; about 220 pounds. Looks like he works out. There's another man in the car behind him. He waltzes his way up toward Zach's door, a badge in-hand. Knocking on the glass. The dents and dings in the old Mustang give it a bit of character, and obfuscates the speed that the machine is able to get up to, at least with its current driver at the wheel. Unfortunately, this just leads to yet another speeding ticket to add to the pile in his glove box. Still, being used to it by now, Zach is fishing his registration and liscence out, not even noticing the inconsistencies until the big dude was already at the car door. The guy had a badge, and the pig was probably undercover or whatever, so he rolls down the window anyway. "Hey there officer, liscence and registration I know." His hand is already reaching out with the documentation, blase about the details, just eager to get back up to speed. The officer takes the license and registration; there's a soft *clkt* of a flashlight as he looks them over, and. "Be right back," he announces, heading back toward his car. Probably to check Zach's plates. For about half a minute, Zach's just left to stew in his car in silence while the officer does - whatever it is - officers do. When he returns, it's with a friend - another officer, this one younger (20s?), darker skin - short, dense, curly black hair - wearing a black windbreaker. Also built, though smaller than the man approaching Zach's car. This too, /could/ strike Zach as weird. But as he arrives at the car-door, holding Zach's license and registration in one hand, a flashlight in the other... "Please step out of the vehicle, sir?" The older officer's voice is polite - direct - crisp and professional. He steps back, giving Zach room to do just that - even as his companion steps to the other side of the door. Caging Zach in. Raising a brow at the order, Zach shoves the documentation into his coat pocket. Theres a brief momentary consideration of gunning the car, but with the engine off and the lack of other vehicles around he was without a jump start. Sighing, he slowly opens the cars door as he steps out. He was wearing a knock off nascar jacket with M&M's logo's on it, a white tank top underneath it, and a pair of black denim jeans. "Something the matter officers? I know I paid off that last ticket." He of course is not correct in that statement, but phrasing it that way may give him a little slack. He is even careful in his steps to not give the officers an excuse to think he was drunk or high. Of course, the over carefulness of behaviour screams scumbag crook to police radar anyway. "Have you been drinking at all this evening, sir?" comes the older officer's instant reply. He's stepping - in front of Zach's car, now. Toward the hood. Diverting Zach's attention away from the other officer, who's stepping in behind him - behind the driver-side door, in fact - reaching into his pocket. For something. And then it comes - a soft *SKRRT* - as the second officer fires the taser through the door window, sending two darts /stabbing/ for Zach's back - a considerable amount of voltage traveling down the wires, aiming to /crackle/ into him. As this happens, the officer in front of Zach is - ever so calmly - setting the license and registration down on the hood, reaching into his pocket, pulling out an unfolding baton - extending it with a series of *CLKTS*... The sudden noise causes him to jump though, and his attention immediately beelines to the projectile firing at him. He can feel it more than anything, and not having the time to think more clearly, he siphons the speed of the flying wired barbs into himself, rocketing himself forward in the process. "Sunova" is all that comes out of his mouth though, as he slams into the front corner of his vehicle, crumpling metal and sprawling him over the hood and sending the paperwork flying. The wires have to remain connected, of course; when Zach /slams/ into the hood of the vehicle, the officer in front of him bolts backwards with surprise - and the officer /behind/ him thrusts his arm forward, through the open window, trying to keep the barbs close - even as he misses with them, only managing to bounce them off the interior of the car's dashboard. The first officer brings the baton slamming /down/ for the back of Zach's skull, spitting out a curse, along with 'AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!' to his partner - who's already resetting the taser, stepping around to the other side of the car - and then trying /again/, attempting to hit Zach while the officer /hammers/ him with the plastic baton. Brains scrambled from impacting the car already, Zach's headache is made worse from the sudden impact to the back of his head. "What the fuck," he garbles into the car hood as he flails around abit ineffectively as he tries to slide backwards off the car. "Stop, sonovabitch stoppit!" With impacts raining into him, he's having trouble even concentrating, but as a blow rains down upon him, the officer gets pushed backwards from him by some force. This frees Zach for all of a few seconds, and also makes it an open shot for the resetting taser. "Holyshitthfu--" Officer #1 FLIES back with the force of his own baton; he hits the asphalt, skidding backward with surprise, teeth snapping down to bite viciously into his own tongue; a bit of blood, a bit of red - spitting, cursing, /snarling/ up a storm. Officer #2 hits with the taser though - which probably leaves Zach's confusion ratcheting up to the next level - as voltage flows through him with a steady *clckclckclckclck* - likely dropping him to the ground, spasming and convulsing with every *clck*. Officer #1 is getting up, limping notably, baton in hand - thoroughly intent on getting a few more *SMACKS* in before they're done. Fuckin' mutant. Convulsing on the ground as each pulse of electricity flows through his muscles, Zach is trying to crawl away. Well it looks like he'd be trying that, but each hand hold made just causes him to flop about pathetically. "Help..." comes out weakly from his lips. Crying for help again, its cut off with another surge sounding like "HelGAHHHH" With bruises already forming, and blood trickling out from a gash on his forehead and a cut on his lip, he lays there pathetically. They let the tazering ride out, for a while. A baton descends to - WHACK WHACK - a few times, but it's more of a prodding smack than a serious one - just to determine whether or not the mutant's going to /throw anyone back/ again. When that doesn't happen, the officer grunts, fishing out from his pocket a leather pouch, and from there - a sedative - waiting until the tasering is finished before /slamming/ his boot to the back of Zach's neck. Which is followed by - unless he's somehow stopped - a needle /jamming/ into his arm, sending the burning fluid directly into his veins. "Fucking /freaks/," Officer #1 says, before adding: "Sweet-as-fuck ride, though." "Forget it, man. I'll take care of it. Just - get him down to the cells." Unconscious from the voltage and blows, Zach cannot do much but take the additional torment of neck stomping and injecting of foul substances. Blood slowly trickles out from his various cuts and abrasions, drool leaking out from between his lips. It is a pretty sweet as ride though. The car, not Zach.