ArchivedLogs:Breaking Curfew

Breaking Curfew
Dramatis Personae Rasa, Anna
In Absentia	2014-04-07 part of Perfectus-TP
Location <WES> Salem Center
This town is a small hamlet, one of the last few working to preserve its historical identity in Westchester County. The cobbled streets are neatly upkept, and the quaint storefronts have been largely unchanged for ages -- in their facades, at least, even if the businesses inside them here and there have kept pace with the times. Here and there. Many, though, have been owned by the same families for generations. The business district is a single drag through the center of town, with houses branching off of the main street; in this small town, it's as common to see horses as cars making their way down the road. Mondays are basically the worst day of the week. After a long weekend of terrible things happening to nonterrible people, Rasa has a gut full of gnawing and that stagnant miserable feeling that comes to those who can only sit and wait. Given that ze still has homework to do and a small break might be helpful, ze opted to get coffee for some of the students in the dorm. Ze checked out properly, promising a coffee for the administrator ze checked out with, and waves hir panic button enabled new cellphone just as a procaution as ze leaves. Ze made it all the way to the Grindhouse without a problem, swathed in a dark blue hijab over hir baggy yoga pants and long sleeved tee. Ze is now carrying four coffees on a pressed paper tray moulded to the bottoms of the coffee cups, balanced on one gloved hand. The other holds hir coffee confection, one ze has tugged the face cover of hir hijab down to sip at as ze pads hir way back to school. Ze has twenty minutes until curfew, so ze is not especially in a hurry. The day was full of rain, so the night air is teeming with damp, crisp breezes, ones that mingle amazingly with hir hot mocha. There's a van parked a short ways down the street from Rasa. Not the same grey one that's been haunting so many people lately, this one is dark blue. A woman, lean and redhaired and hawkfaced, is leaning against a lamppost a short distance away from it, a cellphone in her hand whose phone she is staring at, thumb tapping rapidly against the screen and her grey eyes flicking up at intervals. She looks annoyed, perhaps at what's on the screen or perhaps just at the /night/ in general. Her leather jacket is scuffed and worn, as are the boots on her feet. Maybe she notices Rasa, maybe she doesn't; at any rate, she glances back down to her phone as the teenager pads closer. "Coffee good?" she does asks, voice raised to carry down the quarter-block distance between herself and Rasa as the teen approaches. Rasa is mid-sip when ze hears the voice, hir brows raising. Ze sets hir cup in between the other four, nestled gently like an egg in a nest, before reaching down and tugging the transparent scarf back up and over hir mouth. "Ah, best in town," ze replies, flashing a smile, reaching for hir cup again. "It's still saying something, despite the small town." Ze keeps walking, feet perhaps padding a little stiffer. "Not sure they'll be open much longer. If you want some, you should probably go soon." A smile that crosses the woman's face, quick and easy, at this reply. "Could probably use some," she agrees, switching the screen off her phone and straightening from the lean against the lamppost, sliding the phone back into the pocket of her jacket. She's already turning away from Rasa to start the direction Rasa had come, calling over her shoulder, "-- what's the place called?" Behind her, the door to the parked van near Rasa is opening, though the man getting out of it -- tall and broadly-muscled, dressed in button-down and khakis, dark-brown hair, clean-shaven -- isn't paying Rasa any attention just at the moment. "The Grindstone." Rasa replies. The prickles ze feels when the van door opens are nearly visible, pushing up in a tiny wave under hir clothes, catching against the fabric briefly before settling down. Ze exhales and shakes hir head, swinging closer to the building to give the new man some more space as ze heads on hir way. More deep breaths follow. Hir steps are slightly quicker. Just slightly, as if ze is trying not to be noticeable, just march, march, marching back up to the school. The prickles Rasa is growing are likely to grow /bigger/ in -- about half a second. The man isn't closing his van door. And where Rasa's steps are just slightly quicker, /his/ steps are speeding -- /far/ past what an ordinary human should be capable of, a sudden lightning-burst of speed carrying him inhuman-fast towards the teenager. His hand shoots out, grabbing towards Rasa's arm to try and yank hir back towards the open van. The other woman is looping back, already. Towards the van, as well. Not really bothering opening the door, just climbing /through/ it into the driver's seat. Rasa lets out a bit of a squawk when ze hears something coming, but there's no time to react. Suddenly someone is yanking hir back by hir arm! Ze plants one foot and twists, swinging all four cups of coffee into the man's face. Hir own cup, unfortunately just sloshes harmlessly to the ground when ze is grabbed. The coffee is followed by a punch and a knee to the groin. "LET GO!" ze half shouts, half screams, wresting away hir arm away as best ze can, running fast and hard if ze does get free. There is a brief, startled moment of freedom. But only brief, as the man lifts his hands instinctively to cover his face as /ohmygodhot/ coffee splashes into it. He is, though, still very much in /motion/; the blows do not /land/, at his ridiculously-fast speeds. He shakes his head, wiping his face against his sleeve, and recovers handily, darting forward again -- it's not much trouble at all for the speedster to catch Rasa back /up/, grabbing at hir again and this time, not letting go. Twisting at hir arm, his other hand lifts to try and loop around hir neck, elbow pressing in at hir throat as he drags back towards the now-idling van. Rasa tries to run, ze really does, but as ze reaches back for hir pocket and hir phone, ze is grabbed once more. Ze lets out a cry, which quickly becomes strangled as ze is twisted back around and partially choked. Hir free arm reaches for the pocket but finds it impossible to enter from that angle. Mashing at it from the outside is not summoning help and the inability to breath is difficult. Ze claws and grabs at the hand at hir neck, but the glove keeps hir from adequate contact. As hir eyes start to feel like they ar going to bulge out of hir head, they turn shockingly yellow. Hir skin turns green and hir body begins to thicken. Teeth elongate and ze growls something low and nasty around the spit gathering in hir mouth. Hir legs bunch up by hir chest and ze kicks out against hir captor, as hard as ze can. "Anna," hisses the man, toppling back int the van with a heavy /thud/ at that kick. He grunts uncomfortably, smushed beneath Rasa's thickening body where he lies now on the van's floor. Anna, up front, just sighs in mild exasperation, walking through the partition that separates driver's compartment from back cargo space. She walks, also, /through/ the man and /through/ his -- suddenly toothy armload of teenager, frowning down at Rasa. Stooping, she pulls the man's legs properly into the van, slamming the door shut. "Is /everyone/ today going to be a pain, I swear to God." She leaves Rasa in the man's arms, moving further towards the back of the van where boxes of medical supplies sit and -- largely ignoring her companions increased struggling with the bulkier teenager in his arms. He's trying, he really is, squeezing in tighter, though his superspeed does him no good now that he's no longer moving. Just gripping in tight, arm clenched hard against Rasa's throat, his eyes open wide. "Fuck," he grumbles unhappily. Rasa flails with hir free arm, that arm now possessing a hand full of claws, the sharp tips making shreds of hir gloves. As hir body grows, hir strength grows as well, panic warring with dizziness as ze starts lashing out at all directions, first at the woman seemingly passing through solid objects and people, then ze turns hir attention back down to the one who has hir throat, starting to slash first at his arm, then at his face. "/Anna/." It's not a hiss anymore, it's a yowl, sharp and pained. The man has turned his head away from the flailing claws but there are still marks raked down the side of his face, down the thin fabric of his button down, blood seeping from his arm. He's keeping his grip but it's starting to slacken; he has to make a deliberate effort to hold tighter. Anna /has/ been preparing a syringe of something milky-white, but at the yowl she turns, eyes widening as she looks towards the -- growing flailing Rasa. With a clenching of teeth, she drops the syringe, lunging instead towards Rasa. Her hand reaches to grasp towards the teen's chest -- /through/ the teen's chest, straight into it to reach, fumbling at first, inside with a cool-tingling sensation that actually isn't all that unpleasant. Initially, anyway. When her hand resolidifies, it's likely /agony/; her wrist is still intangible but her /fingers/ clench inwards, squeezing in around a warm squishy lung to press it inwards. Who needs air, anyway. Rasa stops everything, falling suddenly and quickly into shock. There is some last minute flailing, an attempt to do something... anything to breathe again, but it's useless. Hir senses are screaming and going dead one by one. Hir entire being turns blue and shakes. Ze starts to sweat and writhe, with one last word stuck in hir mind. It's probably too faint for even a near by telepath to pick up, but it's lodge in there anyway as ze passes out. << professor! >> "Can't /any/ of you do anything right anymore?" Anna exhales in mild disgust, prodding Rasa's writhing body off of her companion with a toe. /Her/ mind is quieter. Just: << What a mess, >> as she phases back up to the front seat to start the van on the long drive back towards the city.