After Midnight

[max]

After midnight.

Just the good ol' evening walk tonight for young Maxwell Parker, ah! She had been doing it for quite a while, at this time it'd be about fifteen minutes since Max had started. Quite a while! She was dressed casually and the gibbus moon was shining some light on the petite girl, she was dressed in thin black pants, a cocoa colord tank-top underneath her nice clean leather jacket. Hands in her pockets, the young girl listened to her steps that were rather soft but at the same time loud due to the fact she was wearing high-heeled boots.

As the black leather-skinned heel dug into the concrete and Max pulled it out with a simple move of the leg, she realized she was going deeper into the city. The dead part of the city, or at least it was dead at night. Gray buildings surrounded her before she knew it, trash was litterated all around the scene and there was broken glass here and there on the sidewalk and smoke was unmistakeably in the air. The whole place was starting to scare Max, but she didn't have to think twice about wanting to turn back when she heard something shatter on the ground about five feet from her.

Gasping in fright, she turned a bit to the left as she stepped backward at the same time and saw a little fire coming out of a metal barrel and a few people standing around it. All males. One of them had broken a small beer bottle on the fresh concrete, they all looked frightening. Bad teeth, hadn't shaved, torn smelly clothing...

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here!" Said one of them, approaching Max whom was terribly frightened by their appearence let alone, the girl tried to back up but she had come into the alley and the only thing to back up into was a brick wall. "Well, typical scene for this type of situation.." She thought to herself, trying hard not to be scared, but then suddenly she wasn't. Maybe she had though too fast, managing a smile Max tried to question one of them, "Are you fellows cold? I'm sure there's some place around here open late, I can buy you all a hot coff--"

"Shut up."

-- that was just enough to grind Max's gears, as fright took over her expression once agian. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be out here so late at night. I should be--" Her scream was heard over the rooftops and through the doorways of the small district of the city as Max felt herself being pulled forward and then slammed right back into the wall and then brought down to the floor as the other five men approached with murky looks on their faces. Max was frightened when she felt her leather jacket being forced open, she was almost completely defenseless though, not only was she outnumbered but much weaker then any of the thugs.

She didn't even know why they attacked her, or what they intended to do afterwards, and she hadn't seen anyone around when she was walking. Maybe no one was around, maybe she was going to wake up mentally and physically damaged but without the savage men accompaning her. Everything happened so quickly, and Max's screams and cries for help echoed once again through the lone district.

OoC: This thread is very important to Max's storyline for a before&after scheme of my character, so like ... yeah ...

[Atticus Wagner]

The cold night air was great. After a hectic day of school, Atticus could really use a good night to himself. Well, not quite alone if he counted his skateboard. It was the one thing that had been with him ever since he left his hometown and his family. Thinking about his family made him depressed, but only because he missed them so much. The mail hadn't come yet, and he was supposed to be getting a letter from them. He couldn't wait. Of course, he'd have to keep it away from prying eyes. Atticus couldn't stand to be seen getting all mushy and sentimental. It was one of the reasons he put on his "make everyone hate me" act. If people hated him, they wouldn't care about him. Not like he'd be seeing any of them once he was out of school.

Listening to the sound of wind pushing past his body, and the wheels clattering against the uneven sidewalks of the red-light district. Basically, every dreg of humanity hung out in the area. Appropriate to his image, really. But the place bugged Atticus out. Trash got all over the place, crime could be openly viewed from almost every window. Speaking of crime, an ear-splitting cry had hit his ears, causing him to duck and cover his ears out of surprise. This made him lose balance, and he fell right off his board, landing forehead first into the sidewalk. Looking up from his suddenly ground-level position, Atticus noticed his board upside down in front of him, and a small splattering of blood. And he could feel that blood too, just above his right eye.

"Son of a... Who did that?" He asked, picking himself and his board up off the ground. Placing the board back in his backpack, he began jogging towards the general area of the scream. There was a fire nearby, as he saw a chaotically moving shadow from a glob of people illuminated by an orange glow. Taking the few steps to peer around the corner of a building, he saw a mob of men crowding around a struggling something or other. From the scream, that meant this was none other than a classic example of a late-night abduction slash...

Atticus got out of sight of the alley, pressing himself against the wall. He was trying to convince himself to just leave the situation alone, especially since his body wasn't in peak condition after a certain event. Clutching his head with his right hand, he felt some blood smear itself on his palm, and the tension on his head growing. No matter how much he rationalized, that conscience of his was nagging and nagging him to do "the right thing". 'Fine.' He growled to himself, not loud enough for the people to hear over the ruckus they made.

Taking out a can from his bag, and a small box from his left pocket, he began stomping towards the offenders. "Hey you m*th*r f*ck*rs! Get the H*ll away from her right now! If you don't want to die, you'd best do as I say! You got that? I'll take you all down right now if I have to, you f*ck*ng drunk-*ss bastards!" Yeah, the big declaration of heroism, just in a much more crass package. Sure, he could have done the whole 'Unhand her, vile cretins!' But then again, that wasn't exactly in the style of Atticus. And nobody took super-hero speak seriously anyway.

Each step Atticus took towards the group was accompanied by a metallic rattling. Both from the chain of his wallet, and from certain other items. The look in his eyes was pure hatred, almost annoyance, like he was completely better than them all. His face almost looked demonic, with the only illumination coming from the barrel of flaming junk. However, it wouldn't be the only source of light soon. The cops would be there in about ten minutes if he knew them well enough when it came to investigating random screams. Not enough time to save her from the fate those men had chose for her, so he had to take things into his own hands.

"So, you gonna rush to your death or are you going to get the H*ll out of here? It's your choice!"

[max]

"Oh no! Dear gosh, someone help me!"

Max cried, punching and slapping at the men which surrounded her but one had her in a tight grasp around her shoulders. Another had succesfully removed her jacket and she felt her boot being tugged at, the brunette teenager had all but the advantage in such a situation. All the men around were at least ten times heavier then her, stronger then her, and much less civilized then to know how to treat a young lady properly on a quiet moon-lit night.

"Sorry, honie', no one's z'round this place at this time o' night! And you'd be lucky if the cops showed up, which they most likely won't, so I'd just try and enjoy 'yself if I wuz' you. Hope you've heard of a six-some before!"

Said one of the men and Max felt his disgusting saliva drop onto her arm from his untidy mouth when he spoke, she struggled to nudge herself out of the grip of one of the larger men but was rendered completely helpless after a few minutes. Hot tears burst from her face, her hair had come undone and her boot was still being struggled off, her jacket was probably torn and they were probably frisking it for money or something valuable like junkies around the city really did.

After a second, Max felt body weight being smacked onto her abdomen area and was weakly able to manage a stare at one of the men who had jumped onto her and was proceeding to smuck at her with his filfthy lips. Everytime his lips pressed against her skin, drool was left in place, Max felt like she was experiencing a free trial of hell, and it sure the heck wasn't a very thrilling ride...

"Get off me you pieces of shit! Get off!" She shouted, but her voice was shuddered out by the loud ruckus the men were making, but then someone else spoke.

"Hey you m*th*r f*ck*rs! Get the H*ll away from her right now! If you don't want to die, you'd best do as I say! You got that? I'll take you all down right now if I have to, you f*ck*ng drunk-*ss bastards! "So, you gonna rush to your death or are you going to get the H*ll out of here? It's your choice!"

"My...savior?" Max thought weakly, scrammbling to her feet when she saw the men all scattered off of her and she pulled her right boot on properly as she then threw her arms around her cold body which was nearly exposed. Luckily her shirt hadn't been torn so she had some warmth and coverage, it was a teenaged boy, probably her age, she saw something she regarded as evil towards the group of scounderals around her in his eyes and was only so thankful that he had come along. But Max didn't know, they were still outnumbered even standing together, a few of the men spat on the ground in front of the kid as one of them then spoke after chuckling like some retard,

"Wuz' that? Hey fellas', I think the boy just ordered us to do something! I think he did!" The man sort of emphathized on the word 'think' and 'did' and 'boy' especially as if he had some level of authiority here, though Max didn't know whether or not to deny he had or otherwise. "Nuh-uh, we ain't going nowhere tonight son, this is our turf and we're gonna do what we want an' show the lady a good time! With or without you!"

Were they proposing he join along too? Max was more then frightened when she saw the small group walk a little bit closer up to the boy as two of them turned around and ran back over to her though, she screamed again and tried to run but one of them tackled her to the ground and wiped his hand on his snotty mouth before slapping her across the face with it as the other snagged at her shirt. Max's yells were heard again, she hoped the guy whom had showed up would help her, or at the very least would be able to help himself...

[Atticus Wagner]

They really must have been drunk of their asses, because these guys couldn't speak a grammatically correct sentence to save their lives. Not that that would save them now anyway. These guys were bound for Hell on earth, and would soon be tasting the falmes of his fury. Literally. He needed these guys down quick. Another much worthier life was at stake, a life that actually still mattered to someone. Although, with what Atticus had in mind, they'd just live with the pain of second degree burns. But as the men approached, Atticus grew more confident of his victory. These guys were weak, unstable, and only capable of a mob attack. In other words, Atticus had full advantage over these dumbshits.

And they had the gall to suggest that he join in their little bit of disgusting law breaking. "Yeah, sure, why not? As long as I can f*ck her too, I won't stomp your faces in." The acidic tone of his voice was still there, only the lightest hint of sarcasm. It was likely that only he knew of his tone, since the men were drunk, and she was back into fear mode. As he got closer and closer to the men that had actually offered him a piece of their sin. Slowly, his hands came from his sides, the fire illuminating the glint of a metal can with a spray nozzle. A simple can of spray paint. He had planned to tag the school with his mark, but this had become his distraction. In the other hand was a balled up fist that looked a little awkward, as if it were hiding something.

When he got in spray range of as many of them as he could, he shook the can three times as quick as he could, and held down the spray nozzle. Red mist began flowing from the little white top, spraying towards the eyes of the offenders. And that's when his left hand came into play. A small chrome box with a flip open top. under that top, once flipped, was a rectangular tube with rounded corners and small circular openings, and a metal wheel with small teeth. As soon as the wheel was turned by Atticus' thumb, the mere spark was enough to set off the red mist. It ignited into a ball of fire, roaring out to consume the people Atticus saw as inferior. It would burn their faces, and ignite their alcohol-saturated clothing, leaving them to squirm and writhe in pain.

"So are you all sure you want to face me? I hold your lives in my hands. And turst me, if you don't, I will not hesitate to obliterate you. I've delt with far worse that the likes of you. I've taken on more than you. In other words, you all are nothing to me. So if you want to continue living your pathetic lives, I suggest you run right now, or burn." His tone was slowly growing more and more deadly, and considerably scarier a the speech went on, even if those bums had managed to keep away from the flames, they'd certainly be intimidated by the spewing flames Atticus could bring forth at will.

((OOC: Since they're your NPC's I'll let you determine if they're hit or not by the improvised flamethrower.))

[max]

OoC: 'kay, thanks ~.^

Max was so concerned about her own well-being, she stopped screaming but there was a lot of commotion and she couldn't hear the boy whom had come anymore, she couldn't even hear her own breathing. Panting as she struggled the men off of her, Max slammed her back against a wall and started to claw at the thugs but one of them picked up some pebbles off the ground and threw it in her face while the other jumped onto her and started to smack her arms against the wall so she would be in too much pain to use them again to throw them off. It hurt...so much...

((I'm gunna kinda be playing for the NPCs now.))

"So are you all sure you want to face me? I hold your lives in my hands. And turst me, if you don't, I will not hesitate to obliterate you. I've delt with far worse that the likes of you. I've taken on more than you. In other words, you all are nothing to me. So if you want to continue living your pathetic lives, I suggest you run right now, or burn."

One of the men laughed, of course that was after he pushed one of his acquaintinces out of his way, the one he had used to keep himself sheathed from the flame the boy had shot at them with some type of spray can. Only two of his group had caught the blaze though, it was still three against one. These men were savages, thugs of course, wouldn't you expect something hdiden in their large baggy coats? As the two that had gotten sprayed fled to the wall where two others were brutally mistreating the young lady still, the leader one would suppose had walked forward as he raised his hands up with a grin on his face as he shrugged.

"Easy, mate. Wuz' gone down, let's all pretend it hazn't happened, 'kay? Never happened. We'll let the girl go, long as you put down the lighter and the can."

Being a thug, you would've expected him to know what the teenager had in hand, wouldn't you of? Only an idiot would think he wouldn't know what it was. He heard the metals bouncing in the kids pockets, but he didn't fear much. Looking into his face you would be able to tell that none of these men had any idea what 'fear' meant anymore, at least not after they had been living where this was most strong in the city nowadays. And if he didn't fear dying or living in such a place, would he fear getting his face turned black and getting all burnt by some stupid kid? He was getting closer, drool falling down his unshaved chin of bad hair, he only stopped about five feet away from the teenager and still had that grin on his face. "What you say? Deal?"

What the kid probably didn't know though, or probably did know, was the two others that hadn't caught the flames were right now pulling pipes off the sides of the buildings or taking out switch-blades from their pockets and following closely behind their boss getting ready to rip the boy in two. The boss-thug continued to speak with his disgusting breath that smelt a lot like a century-year-old bag of trash, showing his un-even rotten teeth and his despicable smile, "Or should we get the others and make it dinner for two? -- or, my mistake, of two!" He spoke quickly as he then ducked downward and made an attempt to tackle the boy's mid-section and hopefully knock the spray-paint out, but he wasn't close enough to have it confirmed that he would be able to blow the air out of the kid or even hit him at that without him reacting first. For either of the teenagers, it was going to be a long night.

[Atticus Wagner]

This was going all too slow, the girl was still in trouble, being handled rougher by the second, and he still had three fully operational thugs to deal with. Heck, these guys were too stupid to be called thugs, more like arrogant retards. And there was a major emphasis on the retarded part. If only they used deodorant, then he'd be less afraid to gag on their disgusting B.O. And to think these bunch of fools could take on a kid with a can of spray was pretty annyoing too. They'd have to pull off something smart to get close enough to strike Atticus effectively. But with their mob mentality, it was sure to result in nothing more than just some half-assed attempts to get in a strong hit with a whiskey bottle of some equally common piece of solid trash.

And that was when one of them, sick enough to use another person as a shield, had the sense to surrender. Well, not really. The calm voice with which he spoke was more than enough of an indication that he was pulling something. "Easy, mate. Wuz' gone down, let's all pretend it hazn't happened, 'kay? Never happened. We'll let the girl go, long as you put down the lighter and the can." Yeah, and suggesting he put his weapon down wasn't exactly cause for trust either. Atticus wasn't negotiating, he was demanding. And this guy thought that he was the perfect distraction. It was all too easy to see the other two pulling their weapons. Especially since the pipe made a long clinking sound as it impacted with the uneven asphalt and trash. Not only that, it was happening in his field of vision.

As the talkative one bent down for his tackle, Atticus' knee shot out, directly in line of the man's nose. Then, all Atticus had to do was bring his leg back to the ground while executing a high kick with the other. The scissor kick would sned the man's body back up, right in front of the weapons weilders. And if they had the thought of attacking Atticus while he was being tackled, now they would simply just be stabbing their ringleader in the back. Either that or whacking him with a pipe. It didn't matter which really. The speaker would still be in immense pain, with a broken nose from the knee, possibly a broken collarbone from the kick, and if he took a weapon to the back, he'd have that to worry about too.

Hopefully it would be enough to get him out of the way while he dealt with the other two. A shiv and a pipe were common street weapons, and add that on to two agaist one, and he'd have a bit of a problem. The shiv woud have to go down first. Pipes were blunt, so it was less likely to be fatal, though probably more powerful on a blow-for-blow basis.

[max]

Max cried as she felt her arms being beaten against the brick wall, these men were inhumane, but she had managed to not indure too much pain with her right arm and threw it forward out of the man's grip and it was shortly followed by her left arm as she tried to strangle the man before her. Maybe she would've succeeded...maybe she would've killed someone, but that was if he hadn't had a companion in this disgusting scene. Before Max knew it, the other man had drew his switchblade and slit her right wrist, droplets of blood but that wasn't stopping them. They were only starting...

"OWWW!"
Shouted the leader of the small mob, flying back towards a space made between his two acquaintences with blood gushing from his nose. When his back hit the ground, he moaned in pain but was able to stand up again, thugs were like that. They lived on the streets and were able to tolerate the streets, and though he could feel his nose was broken and he could taste the blood running down his lips and onto his beard, he didn't really care. He would be much more vunerable now with the pain ringing through his body but was determined to keep this kid out of their business... permanently. He gave the kid a wicked grin similiar to a I-ain't-going-nowhere look as he then wiped a bit of the blood with his nasty coat sleeve and turned to the man with the pipe.

"Frankie, take care of the girl. We'll meet you at the crib after we're done dealing with this sucka'."

"You got it," Replied the other thug, handing his weapon to his leader and then running over to join the two that had been struggling with the woman. The other two men had ceased the flames on their faces, thankfully none got near their eyes or the pain probably would've been enough to kill them, they could've helped but would run off with the others even though they knew two-to-one, one injured by the way, would be tough for their comrades but they ran off anyways. The four men had to struggle to keep the girl on the one whose name was apparently 'Frankie's back as they started to run towards the back of the alley, though there was nothing there but broken windows, trash, and a fire escape...waitaminute.

"So, 'wuz you gon' do now, kid? Wanna run home like a school-boy or you gonna fight 'dis out? The girl's already gone."

"No! No! HELP ME! Please!"
Max screamed frantically as she beat her fists upon the man's back and tried hard to pull her legs out from under his arms so he wouldn't be able to climb the fire-escape with her. The others were pushing her upward to keep her steady, but she was wildly screaming and fighting back. "Get off me you crazy lunatics!" She shouted, and finally snagged herself straight out of the guy's grip, falling down the small metal stairs that they had taken up the escape that were leading them towards a ladder that led up to the roof of the building. Max hit the metal hard and landed in some trash, and however terrible the situation might've seemed she just wasn't able to get back up again quick enough...

"Hurry! Get 'er back!"

[Atticus Wagner]

"No! No! HELP ME! Please!" How many times had he heard that before? At least in video games... But this was real, and it was actually really alarming to hear the phrase. None the less, he had big bird in his way, between him and some pansies, and of course, the girl. And at least these guys didn't have any clue of how to work Stockholm Syndrome, otherwise there'd be some real trouble. But this guy, was nothing. So what, he took a knee to the shnoz and got back up. He hadn't full on smacked his head into the ground just a few minutes ago. "Get off me you crazy lunatics!" And she was still fighting back. At least she hadn't given up. It would buy him some time to break some more of the guys face.

"You know..." Atticus dropped the can of spray, but the lighter went right back to his pocket. He took a boxing stance, arms up as a shield, the fists at about mouth level. His feet were gently hopping off the ground, keeping him mobile and light on his feet. "You should be thanking me. Your ugly face looks way better then it did before. In fact, I think you owe me for the make over. I'll accept the girl as payment. But I'm sure you're going to be a cheap bastard anyway... So I'll just have to make you pay in blood. Atticus began his charge, only a few steps really, to make it to his target. Of course the guy was going to swing that pipe, which was why Atticus had dropped the gear.

As soon as that pipe was brought to strike, Atticus would pull out his skateboard with his left hand. By laying the underside of the deck on his arm, and holding onto the trucks with his hand, he could create a decent shield for himself. It was far better than using his bones, which weren't able to withstand the attacks of a blunt metal pipe. Instead, the high-quality wood, laminate, grip tape, and aluminum edge reinforcement would take the blow. But unlike bones, it wouldn't break easily at all. A skateboard could take the weight of a two-hundred pound man doing a boardslide, and have no problems.

Not only that, the board severd as a guantlet as well. By using the lip of the board as a striking surface, he could improve the pentration power of his attack by a good amount. The solid construction meant it was just as good as any punch, if not, better. Of course, Atticus would use the board as a method to attack. As soon as the pipe was taken care of, he could jab hard into the guys neck. Yeah, it was a low blow, in a sense, but it was also highly effective, which was just what he needed at a time like this. Honor played a backseat to saving the girl anyway. And it wasn't like there were any rules against it in this fight. Street fights didn't have rules or honor, just a bunch of guys trying to beat the snot out of each other. "Now out of my WAY!"

[max]

OoC: I'll let you control that NPC for now, too lazy to make up a good post, sorry.

"You should be thanking me. Your ugly face looks way better then it did before. In fact, I think you owe me for the make over. I'll accept the girl as payment. But I'm sure you're going to be a cheap bastard anyway... So I'll just have to make you pay in blood."

"Huh...?"
Max pushed her head off of the garbage bag and rubbed her scalp in pain, it was aching? Why?

"Get the b*tch already!"

"Oh yea..." Tired was what she was, Max was tired of running around tonight. This was all so horrid...why would anyone want to attack a teenaged girl who at first had the impressions of helping them? Oh yeah, a little fun in a back alley. People were so cold-hearted...why?

Max stood up and scurried backward, hitting her back against a wall, pain shrieked through her muscles and bones. It was hurting...everything was hurting, "Okay! Stop right there!" She shouted at the men who were jumping off the fire escape and running for her, they surprisedly listened to her command, "Look...I'm...I'm real sorry I was out so late, by myself, and I'm sorry that I came across you guy's ... terriotory or whatever ... but please, I'm only sixteen! Please let me alone!" She tried to reason, but only fueled their perverted disgusting ideas evenmore as one said,

"Sixteen? Even better! I thought we got an eighteen year old or somethin'!"

"Yea, I thought you wuz' an older broad. Guess not! Now come to papa!"

"NOOOO!" Max shouted, picking up a broken pole from the ground and swinging it at the men, hitting one of them in the head. She was able to see his teeth flying out onto the concrete, not something to be proud of though. "GET!.AWAY!.FROM!.ME!"

[Atticus Wagner]

((OOC: Forgive how long this post took for me to come up with. I know this thread is important to you, so I'm sorry for the delay.))

The pipe came down, just as expected. A person with a weapon was more than likely to use it as soon as they possibly could. As the glinting metal fell harshly, Atticus brought up his arm, covered by his skateboards deck. Pipe collided with grip tape with a hollow "clunk". But unlike the drunk in front of him, Atticus wouldn't need to use a weapon. With a simple jab to the kidney, the drunk was reeling from the pain. Those organs had to be on their last leg, with all the abuse the man had given to his own body over his time in the streets.

"You see? You won't stop me. Sure, you've been living a rough life, and can take some punishment, but your habits have merely weakened you and dulled your senses."

With a groan, the drunk grasped his side, staring down the punk. "Wha' ever... You jus' got lucky, mate, 'at's all."

Atticus ran forward, planting his left hand against the ground. His feet them left the ground, rising up in unison as they kicked out at the target. The same spot on the drunk, the kidney. With a solid landing, the street urchin reeled back further, feeling the agony coursing through him. Using the now cleared space, Atticus landed in a crouched position and rose up to attack again. But the pipe was coming down again, this time landing on Atticus' left shoulder. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Atticus launched a sharp right uppercut into the kidney yet again. Followed up with his right knee, the drunk fell to his knees, unable to stand. "It's OVER!" Atticus yelled as he brought his left hand up, skateboard still acting as a shield. It came down, the edge of the board colliding against the man's head. He fell over, a trail of blood coming from the point of impact.

With a look over at the girl and those trying to capture her, Atticus again took on that vengeful look that had seemed so evil in the glow of the dancing flames. Some of the fallen drunk's blood had splattered onto Atticus' cheek. Combined with the blood slowly dripping from his forehead, it looked like he had gone through a battlefield. Picking up the pipe the drunk had used, Atticus now had a "sword" to use with his "shield". "I told you all that you should just run away. But you insist on trying to do things the hard way. So I'll give you this last warning, get out of my way, and run, or I'll leave you all like your little friend over there."