ArchivedLogs:Torunap

Torunap
Dramatis Personae Toru	2013-05-13 Torunapped! (Part of Thunderdome.)
Location
Out behind some no-name bar, there's a fight that's about five seconds away from going critical. It's between Toru and two currently /thoroughly/ drunken humans. One of them's shouting obscenities at him, trying to push him deeper into the alleyway; the other one's at the entrance of the alleyway - glancing here and there, making sure there's no one to catch sight of their current shenanigans. Speaking of which, someone /has/ caught sight of these shenanigans; there's two men - one, a tall, strapping Caucasian in his thirties, the other a darker, tawny skinned man in his late 20s - both approaching. Plains-clothes. They look a little - irritable. As Toru is contending with the drunk in the alleyway, his buddy is contending with these two at the entrance - the Caucasian promptly pulls a badge. "...shit, THEO! Uh, THEO!" the man at the mouth of the alleyway shouts - to his drunken partner, who is mid-way through asking Toru if he /wants/ a second asshole where his face used to be. Toru is pretty much totally /pumped/ though. Adrenaline and shit all over the place, not that it works that way, and he's gone so far as to pull off the gloves that usually cover his hands, his general hoodie zipped up just enough to stay around his waist, but otherwise has been cast off to hang loosely about his legs. Let's DO THIS. Hands clap together and he holds them up in front of his face, fists clenched, arms-- weird? From about halfway up the forearm down to his hands, they're this weird, aged-yellow shade. "«I'm gonna rip your tongue out,» /muchacho/," he boy replies, in-- Japanese, mostly. He bounces back and forth a bit in a sort of ridiculous attempt at a boxer's stance, and takes the opportunity presented by the watchdog shouting for THEO~ to step in, duck his head, and go for a punch to the crotch before jumping back, assuming he isn't grabbed before he can. Did we mention Theo's drunk? Theo's seriously drunk. Crotch-punching him while his friend is calling out his name is Baby-Town Easy-Ville. WHUMP; Theo grunts, eyes popping open and spitting tears like bottles of Diet Coke plus Mentos. He stumbles back against the wall, panting and wheezing, clutching at his privates as if he was terrified they were about to crawl off of him and scurry down the alleyway to find some place to /hide/. Which, judging by the way he's groaning in pain, they just might. Theo's friend escrays. The two officers are striding down the alleyway, now; big men in casual wear - leather jackets - one of them still holding that badge - glancing at Theo. The younger of the two officers steps forward, reaching to check Theo - "Hey, hey, th'fuck - you hurt?" -- as the older officer steps toward Toru, holding up the badge like it's some sort of SHIELD. "Easy, easy, pal," the off-duty cop says. "Relax, huh? Th'fuck is going on--" His eyes flick down to those yellow-colored arms--"here?" Rapidly pulling his hoodie back on, Toru rubs his arms as they fade back to his regular complexion, smiling widely and holding up his hands, spreading them out as if to say 'nothing weird here'. He takes a few steps back, head lowered just a bit and replies, with an exaggerated accent, "No English?" A big goofy shrug, there, and the teen takes a not-so-subtle look behind himself to see what his options are, here. Not.. great. Thinking fast, he scratches at his neck a little nervously, that smile still there, though it is faltering a little. He gestures to the man on the ground and frowns a bit. "Him.. take.." And points to himself. "I.. wallet?" He's barely even convincing him/self/, here, let's be real. Scratching his neck again, he gives one last look around with his happy, smiling, 'totally just an innocent tourist' face and-- whips around to run away and, should he not be overtaken, leaping onto a dumpster so as to jump for the nearest fire escape to head /up and away/. The mention of 'No English' actually gets a goofy grin out of the older officer, though it's not the /friendliest/ of looks. So does the mention of 'I Wallet'. But then - Toru's breaking the cardinal rule of all encounters with the police: He's /running/. Goofy grin is /gone/, along with all pretenses of being /polite/ about this; Theo gets shoved aside - and now /both/ cops are giving chase. When Toru leaps on top of that dumpster, there's a loud 'hn!' behind him; the larger of the two officers is hefting himself up right after him - and jumping, reaching to /grab/ his lower torso as he clambors up that fire escape - trying to /yank/ him down. "Th'fuck you're -- get the fuck down here! Jesus Christ, get down--help me over here, Terry--" There are so many options running through Toru's mind right now that it is-- super hard to figure out which one to go with. For the moment he settles on stalling by just-- kicking his legs at that big officer, trying to wrestle him loose, and it's at that point that he realizes that yeah, he really isn't strong enough to bear the weight of a tiny Asian guy AND a big white dude. Grunting, he grits his teeth, doing his best to maintain a grip on the ladder he's grabbed, with one arm, and some assistance with bone-solidifying. Always the one to go for the most crude of solutions, Toru's left hand snakes down to-- unbutton and unzip his jeans. Just figuring. If he can push the cop down that far, he should slide right off, right? Fortunately the kid is wearing shorts under there. With that done, he starts to reach up to try and pull himself up further, when it does /occur/ to him that he /can/ use his ability offensively as well-- and on its way back up, left hand goes to /shove/ at cop face, and at the same time the officer might feel a -- not a painful, but instead a severely /tingly/, itchy feeling as the top layer of his skin gets harder, and more bone-like, in the shape of a big ol' handprint with the palm centered on his forehead. The longer Toru is able to keep contact, the deeper and wider that handprint will spread. "Jesus /fuck/ kid's like some sort of fuckin' spider--" Pants slide free underneath the officer's grip, /slipping/ down, briefly scrabbling for purchase on what are probably a pair of wiggly, kicky calves; the officer's not giving up that fast, of course! But when the hand slaps on his forehead and his skin starts to tighten - "Nnghaaah... FUCK FUCK! FUCK! HE'S -- MY FACE! FUCK!" -- and then the officer is /tumbling/ down, landing with a thud on top of the dumpster, shouting out /bloody murder/ to Toru. Officer #2 is quickly taking up position next to the dumpster - aiming something up at Toru. FIRING. Taser straight at your backside, FREAK. "Th'fuck he do to my /face/?!" the officer screams, clasping at his face, /feeling/ that hand-print in place. "Oh you mother-fuck--this--this better be REVERSIBLE or I swear to GOD--" Okay so TASERS are not something Toru took into account or he probably would have thought of a better plan than ending up-- half-pantsless and stuck to a ladder in an alley. When he gets hit, his entire body /seizes up/, teeth clenched and he lets out an almost-scream through tightened jaws. Once it's done zapping the fortunately-not-literal crap out of him, his body goes slack and eventually just /drops/ to the ground with a dead thump. At this point his arms are both solid from the hands to about three quarters of the way up, frozen in a defensive position. It takes a while for him to actually recover from what just happened, and while instinct is to try to push himself to his feet, by this point he's likely already swarmed. It's not a very dignified way to end up. Batons. OUT. The first cop is on his feet a moment after Toru is down, and bringing. That. Beat. Stick. /DOWN/. Each whump followed by a curse - one in a series - that rains down on him along with the blows. "Fucking /FREAK/ I swear to /GOD/ if this doesn't come off my HEAD I will fucking /kill/ you," the officer says, suddenly /exploding/ with pure rage. Meanwhile, his partner is saddling up, reaching an arm for his shoulder - even as he reloads the taser. "Jesus, relax--" "I HAVE A FUCKING HAND-PRINT ON MY FUCKING /FOREHEAD/." WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP. Oh Jesus-- Toru can barely /think/ at this point, he's too busy-- just trying to /shield/ himeslf though considering he's being beaten with a baton there aren't very many places that he'd rather get hit any more than others. He has the presence of mind to at least curl up to protect his beautiful face and the family jewels -- they're the money makers, after all -- but other than that it's just pure agony with every strike. After the first several strikes he manages to let out a muffled, "Fuck--!" but he doesn't get any further with that thought. But gradually, if nothing else, the baton starts to strike something somewhat harder than flesh, which responds with a sound harder than stick-hitting flesh; he's gradually turning the skin of his torso to bone; at this rate he's going to be all but immobile by the time this whole thing is through. WHUMP WHUMP WHUM--it eventually ends, but it /takes/ a while. Soon, there's another shot of the tazer -- bzzzzpt -- and after that, there's rough hands - /gloved/ hands, now -- sinking down to seize him, pull him up, drag him toward a van. If Toru's hands ever get loose enough to move, those gloved hands will quickly attempt to drag his wrists behind his back -- /tie/ them with a zip-tie. And if his skin ever gets soft enough to pierce, it won't be long before one of them is injecting him with a sedative -- burning hot, /scorching/ through his veins -- to try and keep him docile. "If this doesn't come off," the first officer repeats, "I am seriously going to shoot this mother-fucker."