Logs:Birthday Candles

Birthday Candles
Dramatis Personae Gino, Ion, Tok
In Absentia Taylor	2024-06-08 "Gotta feed our people first, turn up second."
Location <NYC> SoHo
Possibly today was not the best of days for the NYPD's Police Benevolent Association to be holding sma fundraiser, but it's the day they chose. Police and their fandom are enjoying a fancy gala in the fancy hotel here. Outside it's far less fancy; the street on this block has been closed down by lines of motorcycles, the block transformed into a boisterous block party. There's music blasting ("you want war, we got war, we just wanna warn you"); there's a lot of mouthwatering barbecue, heavy on the pork, there are beautifully designed shirts and posters and stickers from the Chimaera crowd, many featuring images of pig roasting or coffee themes. Nobody has ever accused the Mongrels of being subtle. It's been very clear for some time that the police inside and out are Not enjoying the block party. The fancy cops have been afraid to leave; a lot of on-duty cops are surrounding the block, but have been unwilling to engage as yet. That might be changing, because right now one Mongrel has hopped himself up onto one of the police cars surrounding the party. Ion is in jeans, boots, his well-worn cut over a tee shirt whose design (in Jackson Holland's trademark luminously colored style) is a broken riot helmet, flowers that look like flames sprouting up through the shattered visor. He doesn't have a megaphone but his deep bass voice booms well enough over the music. "Those fuckers in there, they celebrating death. Cheering on murder. --" He's gesturing towards the police behind him, who seem to be trying hard to decide exactly what they're going to do about this. As several approach him, though, he vanishes from the car he's on, reappearing on another farther down the row. "Taylor touch so many fucking lifes. We gonna celebrate right, we gotta light him some birthday candles." There's lightning crackling off of his hook, but he doesn't get as far as sending it anywhere -- already someone in the crowd is hurling a bottle towards the car he'd first been on. To those looking closely, it says it is coffee. The fiery rag coming from its mouth suggests otherwise. The crowd is slightly less agitated around the barbecues, and obviously Gino is here for the protest but he's also not not here for the barbecue. Honestly, he's dressed more for barbecue than for protest -- he has a colorful tie-dye protest tee he probably got weeks ago, the sleeves cut off and the back peppered in runs and holes where sharp white spikes are poking out of the cotton (it reads "Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee!" over a burning police car) but he's also wearing cargo shorts and flip-flops. At the sight of Ion on the police car, he swears under his breath and attacks the last few bites of his kebab with a little more haste, then swigs the last of his Coke as he's striding closer to the action. He just drops the kebab stick on the ground (probably someone is gonna clean it up eventually) but he keeps the Coke can, crushed in his hand, maybe he's just forgotten about it. He is making an effort to shoulder through the crowd (a very successful effort, even this crowd is by and large not loving the spikes) toward the cop car, one hand cupped around his mouth to amplify an enthusiastic hoot. It was easy enough for Tok to find a “buddy” to go into the city with, anything to get rid of the energy bubbling around inside them. After a brief agreement on when to meet back up, Tok was off to explore. The sound of the block party and sight of the motorcycles drew them in, and they quickly joined in, skedaddling around and greeting any mongrels they recognized after the whole fall of Freaktown. They then spot Gino in the less crowded area, and hop and wave, attempting to (unsuccessfully) peek over the height of the crowd. They begin to shove their way through in attempt to get closer to him, but stop at the sight of the mongrel who hops on the car. They cheer in tandem with the crowd, and their eyes light up at the sight Ion’s lightning. They laugh, a nervous excited kind of laugh, and begin to maneuver their way closer to the car instead. Unsurprisingly, that first molotov cocktail riles the crowd immensely. Those who aren't keen to tangle with the cops are moving baaaack -- probably anticipating this, the lower-key food and dancing had already been staged on the far other side of the group from the angry escalators. A lot of other people, mostly masked, are surging closer. "Twenty-six years today," Ion is yelling, "twenty-six fucking candles." There are more crashes -- another car going up in flames, another roar from the crowd. Some of the police are pressing forward, riot shields up. "No fucking cops in our barbecue," one immense Mongrel is saying, and the line of advancing riot cops are simply balked in the middle of crossing the street into the party. This isn't stopping them from drawing their weapons, pepperball guns coming out. There's a flicker of lightning and many of the first wave of attacking cops have simply vanished, though they've gotten up a few shots of their Painballs. Ion reappears a moment later beside Gino, his grin fierce and wide. "You here to party, bruh?" Gino is getting louder with the crowd, pushing forward with the current; when Ion materializes beside him he tosses a wide-eyed look of surprise sideways, but then he grins too -- "Yeah, you know it, man," he says; he throws his crushed soda can overhand past the crowd (it bounces ineffectually off a riot shield with a clatter, barely audible over the uproar.) "You folks throw a hell of a bash but I'm glad we got to the bash part finally, no complaints -- I'mma get up closer." Tok throws their hood up, and worms their way through the crowd at the rising chaos. They finally, somehow, find their way next to Gino and Ion, maybe looking a little out of their depth but definitely thrilled to be here, “Did somebody say party!? Woo woo!” There are more cars going up in flames -- is anyone counting anymore now, who knows. There are still sparks dancing off Ion's hook, and though he's watching the spreading of the flames with a kind of pride he is holding off on the torching, instead letting the eager kids in block chuck their incendiaries. "Can't party on an empty stomach, bro. Gotta feed our people first, turn up second." His chin lifts to Tok, though his posture is shifting as the child comes over, just a little more guarded, his eyes a little more focused on the stymied cops. "Feel like we owed these fuckers a birthday bash." "I know, I know," Gino is amped up, kind of nodding most of his upper body with the force of this agreement in a bouncy, bobbing motion -- his eyes are glaring sort of beadily over the crowd, head tilted back to watch the fracas. "Just --" he shakes his head, huffs out a short, breathless laugh, does not totally regain his train of thought. "So long as we do turn up. Oh hey, if it isn't Old Man -- I do not remember your name. You got a buddy out here?" Tok jerks a head in greeting to Ion, “Sup!” They grin at Gino, “Yeah sure Spikes, now I got buddies!” They hop a little to see over the crowd, and their ears pin back. Their tail bristles, but they look focused instead of scared. “Don’t worry ‘bout me! I know when to call it,” They shift to avoid getting shoved into one of Gino’s spikes, “Things get too hairy I’ll be outta here real quick you can count on that!” They reassure, eyes darting around, scoping out the points of escape. “Now I dunno ‘bout you guys but I’m excited to see some lightning!” They cheer, pointing a claw towards Ion’s sparking hook. "Sorry, kid," Ion sounds genuinely apologetic, "I got work to do tonight and it ain't babysitting, you got a friend here? Should come to these things with a friend, it --" There's another line of cops getting their weapons out; a bright flashbang, a tear gas grenade lobbed into the crowd. Ion makes brief eye contact with Banhammer before there's another shiver of energy. He vanishes -- several of the firing police vanish. He's sparking a little more when he returns. "-- get a bit spicy here, yeah? You alone?" "Nuh-uh, ya don't," Gino sounds somewhat less apologetic, shaking his head very rapidly -- he squinches his eyes shut with a sharp grinding sound at the flashbang. He turns his grimace onto Tok, still grimacing, one hand lifted to shield his eyes. "I don't even know you, if you don't have anybody to watch your back you probably shouldn't be here." He nods his head toward Ion, repeats, "Shit gets spicy." Tok’s face drops a little at the kid and baby sitting remark, and their tail drops. A brief look of frustration passes their face, but it’s quickly smeared away as they flinch against the flashbang, their eyes and veins lighting up in a white glow in reaction, but their powers don’t grab onto anything. When Tok reopen’s their eyes, they widen as they watch Ion zap away and return, their fur rising at the shiver of energy. They let out a laugh, “So cool.” Their eyes dart between Ion and Gino for a moment, towards where the police are, and they huff, “Alright alright yeah I’m alone! I’ll get outta here. Give’em hell for me!” They give the two a mock salute, and begin to back up along with the crowd moving away from the police. "Fuck, monstrucito --" Ion's eyes are darting after Tok, and then back to the fires, the line of cops. "Shit," is quiet, buried beneath the shouted orders of the cops, the music, the pained-angry-exuberant yells. "Yo, anything you can do to gum those asshole up? He's nodding towards the cops who haven't yet unholstered their firearms, before zipping off to displace another handful of the ones who have. "Got a few candles to go," he's saying when he returns, "I'm not bout to get some kids gun down who think just cuz we having fun this a damn game." "Yo --" on second thought Gino seems to decide just to let Tok go, grimaces at Ion, grimaces over at the riot arm. "Sure, yeah, I can gum anything up. You got some super non-functional guns coming right up -- fuck -- uhhh." Gino is not very quick -- the spreading immobility is slow and kind of clumsy, and goes unnoticed until one of the officers Ion was indicating tries to shift his posture and can't move his feet -- he moves quickly for his gun, which is stuck in the holster as if glued there, and though the sudden agitation from that cluster of police is hard to hear over the general clamor Gino's concentration is breaking anyway -- "Ohshit," he says, "Uhhh --" after a moment he just detaches himself from the cluster, lifting one foot and then the other off the ground in a kind of awkward, bouncing dance. For a moment he just watches the officers -- the ones who've touched their guns in the meantime are now frozen with their hands at their belts. "I'll be honest, man," he says to Ion, in an exaggerated stage whisper, "I had a few beers, I do not know how to undo that right now." Tok begins to back up further, unable to help the laugh that bubbles up at watching all the police get stuck in various positions of glued to something. Their eyes dart over to one cop over to the side raising a gun, and their eyes widen with a white glow. Tok gasps, stumbles, but it’s not their own voice or their own legs that stumble. Tok, now hijacking the cop’s body, quickly lowers the gun, frantically fumbling with the magazine release mechanism, moves unfamiliar but just familiar enough to get all the bullets out. They drop the unloaded gun, and kick it away. Just to cause some chaos, Tok, using the cops voice, shouts, “AY! Uh- we should totally surrender!” In the background, the cop in Tok’s body falls over, makes some confused shouts, but it doesn’t last long as Tok’s suddenly back in their own body with a flash of glowing white eyes, on the ground, and quickly scrambling up to re-merge with the backing up crowd. Ion is snorting, as the confusion spreads among the stuck cops. His brows hike at the cop demanding surrender, his "-- fucking pussies," kind of amused. "C'mon," he's offering a hand out to Gino, his head jerking in a general "get out of here?' kind of gesture. "Get my dog to scramble their brains up maaaybe they ain't gonna remember this fucked-up night." Gino stares with a kind of hungry anxiousness back at the cops, and for a moment he seems like he is going to insist on staying, before he shakes his head, hisses out a breath. "I'on't mind if they remember," he says, "Long as they're scared," but then he gives Ion a rueful grin and head shake, claps him on the shoulder, turns to go -- "See you 'round." Tok blinks the slight blur out of their eyes, and checks in on Gino and Ion one last time, before deciding it’s time they got the hell outta dodge. They offer one last cheer, and disappear into the depths of the crowd.