Post by Rina Vade on Sept 17, 2012 8:11:23 GMT -8
OOC - Okay, so I suddenly realized that I've not RP'ed something with Rina's power to kill with the mind. Sean Barker would have a field day with that, wouldn't he? >.> Anyways, I have muse, so here we go!
Despite the quiet streets that would unnerve most people, Rina didn't mind them at all. To her, the silence was a blessing. In this part of the city, things were bad and the crime rate had skyrocketed.
Barker held influence here.
Usually, Rina would steer clear of places such as this, but something had called her out here. And that something had been a group of teenagers, captured by Barker's men and forced to work like slaves. The oldest was sixteen, and had somehow called her with Psychic powers of his own. It had taken a bit of planning and a lot of running, but she had gotten them out of there. Now, she was in need of a big cup of coffee. Approaching a small coffee shop that dared to remain open for business so near to the reign of an evil man, Rina glanced once over her shoulder and stepped inside.
The man behind the counter gave her a sincere smile, obviously glad for a customer. She bought a latte and took a few sips before setting it down on a nearby table as she headed toward the bathrooms to change into a clean change of clothes.
Had she not been so tired, Rina most likely would have considered bringing her coffee cup with her, either that or buying it after she'd changed. As it was, she did not think of this, and being the sole customer in the shop...well, a cup of coffee on a table kind of stood out. It was when she was just pulling her shirt out of her bag that she heard a shout and the sound of shattering glass. So, Barker's men were already out looking for her.
Damn, they were fast.
Before Rina could move to lock the door, it burst open and one of the masked men reached in and grabbed her roughly by the arm, making her drop her shirt. "Are you fucking serious?!" she exclaimed hotly, trying to jerk away. "Hello! Woman getting dressed here!"
He ignored her and dragged her out, calling on of the other men over. Turning to her, he demanded, "Where are those kids?"
"Newsflash. Their teenagers, not kids." she said pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest and sending him a glare. Fear and anger began to awaken that power she had used weeks ago to kill a man without touching him.
The masked man shook her. "You will stop playing games and tell me!" he growled.
Rina shot another glare and said sarcastically, "Oh sure. I'll just go and tell you where the teens are. The ones that I set free and you'll never find." as soon as she had spoken, she wished she hadn't. Her mouth could really get her into trouble sometimes. She hit the floor, her cheek stinging from where the man had struck her. He said nothing else, only turned and muttered something to one of the men, who went and hauled Rina to her feet.
"You're coming with us." he told her.
Rina growled. "Like hell I am!" she jerked away from him and tripped him, kicking a second who rushed forward. Letting down her mental shield, she pulled out a dagger and immobilized two of the men, taking them down. She REALLY wanted her shirt, dammit! But oh hell...
She was surrounded.
As adrenaline flooded her veins, the coil of power in her mind began to tighten more. Shots were fired, and that was when it happened. The clerk behind the counter screamed in pain, a bullet hitting his shoulder. Enraged, Rina whirled on the shooter, that coil of power lashing out and invading his mind, striking him down. The room stilled. Rina could feel the emotions of astonishment and shock coming off of Barker's men.
Shit.
She was so screwed if she didn't kill them all.
Slowly, two of the men came back to their senses, and Rina was upon them before they could blink, kicking their guns from their hands. She sensed more guns being pointed her way and rolled, scrambling behind the counter. The clerk was crouched on the floor, hands over his head as the bullets ricocheted off of the marble counter. When the room grew silent again, Rina dared a look over the counter top, only to be struck over the head with the end of a gun.
She hit the floor.