122/Darkness on the Edge of Town, or Holding Out for a Hero

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Darkness on the Edge of Town, or Holding Out for a Hero
Date of Scene: 25 February 2020
Location: Suicide Slum - New Troy
Synopsis: Terry stakes out a gang deal in Suicide Slums, which is a mistake. Beast Boy, fortunately, arrives in the nick of time to help in his own strange way.
Cast of Characters: Terry O'Neil, Gar Logan

Terry O'Neil has posed:
If there's anything faster than the speed of night, it is crime. Having shot Lois the info of the scoop, he had been waiting for a response when he just happened to hear an exchange at a local coffeehouse... things said in low whispers that he, somehow managed to hear.

An exchange was to take place tonight, in Suicide Slum. Something very clandestine.... what exactly it was? He couldn't quite hear. But he got the impression that the parties striking the deal were on to something big.

And so, Terry O'Neil is here tonight, parked in his car near the intersection that was mentioned by the two clandestine coffeehouse patrons. This is probably not the smartest thing he has done, but it's all in the name of trying to find a story.

Stakeouts are boring, however. Never let television tell you otherwise. Terry knows from his mother all the things that investigators do to survive through stakeouts... and he has never been able to look at water bottles the same way again.

Hopefully this stakeout won't get to that point...

Gar Logan has posed:
There was..not very much going on at Titans Tower. The place was practically dead. It might as well have been. This idea of getting in touch with everyone might be harder than it seemed at first. How to do it? Mass e-mail? Text? Gar could try calling, but what if someone blocked his number?

Marty McFly just didn't think he could take that kind of rejection, and neither did Gar!

The solution to the problem of not feeling at home while at home was simple: go out. Walk, fly, whatever. For the moment, he took to the skies as an eagle just to soar above Metropolis and get a feel for things again now that he was back in town.

Down below, things were afoot in Suicide Slum. A potential drug deal with some weapons on the side, the kinds of things gangs would love to get their hands on, and with one controlling the stuff it'd give them a leg up on the competition. The problem was, a car nearby the meetup, a run-down warehouse that fit right in. There were only two other cars nearby, and both of them were on blocks.

Terry and his ride stuck out like a sore thumb, and a couple of gang members were going to find out what was going on. They begin to approach, clad in thick jackets that hid whatever they were probably packing. Both look suspicious, but fully confident in themselves.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Crap..." Terry whispers to himself. He doesn't have a lot of time before they get here. Perhaps...

The redhead pretends to be asleep. It's just a slight adjustment of the head, letting his jaw relax ... trying to get a steady, deep breath going on. If he can convince them he's dozing in his car, he might just make it. He's not dressed shabbily enough to seem as if he has nowhere to sleep... but he hopes that the darkness will keep that from being TOO obvious.

However, he's not counting on his luck. It is then that he remembers that the keys are not in the ignition, but on the seat next to him, and curses.

He hopes the gangsters are not armed...

Gar Logan has posed:
Whatever they are, they come around to the driver's side window and one of them, a big, burly brotha, raps his equally big knuckles against the glass. Only, gently. His accomplice, someone about Terry's own size and of a similar complexion, fidgets and looks all around, as if he's on something. He might be. "Yo. Yo, yo, yo. Get this rabbit outta here, Maurice! We got biz up in here!"

Maurice tells the little guy, "Be at ease, Rabbit. I have this." Now he's looking directly at the would-be sleeping occupant, and his deep voice, a contrast to the other's more high-pitched whine, can be heard through the window. "Bruh." He sounds calm, cool, collected.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The jig was up. The only thing he can do is to try and play it out and see if he can fool them. He opens his eyes and looks startled, as if startled out of deep sleep. "Huh... wha? What's goin' on?"

It's a good drowsy act. The might even buy it.

Gar Logan has posed:
Maurice glances at Rabbit, who addresses Terry again. "Yo, /rabbit!/" It must be a thing. But, another sharper look from the big man has Rabbit backing off with his hands held up. "Just tryna get him to wake up, Mo! You know how I do!"

The leader of the pair levels his gaze toward Terry and informs him, "I would like you to understand I wasn't born yesterday, my man. We watched you moving around before you pretended to be asleep. Now if you're lost, we can help you find your way out of here, but you'll be having to move along now, bruh. This is not where you want to be." All along, he sounds polite on the surface, but there is an undertone to it that suggests no fooling around.

Somewhere above, a couple blocks away, a green eagle moves at a steady pace and angles back upward after doing..something. Seconds later, there's a splat against a speed limit sign. "Still got it!" he celebrates, veering back around toward the warehouses.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Hey, I don't want any trouble here. I'll just be heading out, right?" the redhead says, reaching for his keys. His hands are shaking a little, so it is no surprise that he drops the keys and they fall down the side of the seat. "... oh fuck..." he looks up at the leader, panic in his face. "... give me a second..."

Gar Logan has posed:
Rabbit isn't buying it. "He stallin', Mo! Yo, I'ma just cap him an' take his ride!" Now the guy is digging inside his coat, coming up with a handgun. "You see this, rabbit? It says 'Bad Muthafucka' right there!" He lets the flustered Terry see the grip, whether he's looking or not. "Know why? Because I'm a bad muthafucka!"

Maurice has one of those looks that wonders how he got stuck with this crap tonight. "I'm going to count to five, and if you're not on your way by then, I might lose my temper and Rabbit here might do something he won't regret later. You don't want to be a statistic, do you, bruh?" He's shifted his coat aside to show a sawed-off shotgun, of all things.

"Oh, what's that?" the eagle asks himself, his sharp eyes having picked out the two in Suicide Slums as he veers back around. One of them has a gun out. "Uh oh, that can't be good."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
There's no way he can get to the keys. Not with his hands shaking the way they are now. Not with the countdown happening. This is the kind of thing that requires you to fish under the seat, curse a lot, and eventually retrieve.

Terry doesn't have much of a choice. His options are to wait for the countdown to end and get shot, or... well, put up a fight and get shot. But at least make it a challenge.

For a moment he considers dialing 911- but what good would it do? Cops think twice before coming to Suicide Slum. He'll be dead before they even consider not coming.

Taking a deep breath, he does the only thing he can think of doing at that very moment: with one swift movement he unlocks the door, pulls on the handle, and then propels the door to swing outwards with one of his strong legs, hopefully strong enough to hit 'Rabbit' /hard/. He hopes it's hard enough, because he then plans to jump out of the vehicle and crouch behind it from whatever volley the leader sends in his direction. It would help him very much if he could take 'Rabbit' out of the equation.

Gar Logan has posed:
Surprisingly enough, it works. The door flies open and cracks Rabbit right in the knees and his gun hand, and everything about the guy drops to the ground with a yelp and a groan. "He hit me, Mo! The muthafucka muthafuckin' hit me!"

"I can see that," is all Maurice says, and he lets his coat fall back into place before cracking his knuckles. Before Terry can even get beyond the side of the car around to the opposite end, Maurice's big paw darts out to grab for the back of his neck. "Going somewhere, dawg?" he asks, a harder edge to his voice by now.

It worked, up to a point.

The eagle grimaces up above, somehow. "Aaaand we've got trouble down below. Guess it's just me this time." The lack of others to move in to help isn't making this any more fun, and a couple heavy-duty SUVs are starting to roll into the area.

That's when Gar spots the red hair, the short stature, the compromised spot he's in. "Oh, crap." Now he picks up speed to close the distance.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Ninjas fight with honor, it is said, and knights fight truly. The O'Neil clan, on the other hand, fights dirty the way any Irish clan that is, according to rumor, cursed with bad luck has to in order to survive. That warrior instinct takes over when Maurice grabs him by the back of the neck. Terry turns around, or as much as he can with the back of his neck immobilizied-

And /growls/.

From his position, Gar can't see his face- but Maurice can, and for the merest of instants Terry O'Neil's face is contorted into a feline snarl... which actually /looks/ feline.

The anomaly might be enough to distract Maurice from the sneaker that, like one of Apollo's arrows, is flying straight and true to impact with Maurice's groin.

Gar Logan has posed:
There is only one who sees what just happened, and the big black man's eyes widen at the sight, not to mention the sound. "The fuck..?" he asks, losing his grip a moment before that kick hits its mark..only for the man to barely move. "Hnngh. That tickled. Bad move, bruh." Now he's reaching for the shotgun, and while his eyes betray some of what he's feeling from the kick, he's still moving as if it isn't slowing him down. It's methodical, inevitable.

"That muthafucka!" Rabbit whines, still shaking his hand, rubbing his knees. Not much of a fighter, it seems, but he is working on getting back to his feet.

Beast Boy lands atop the car and turns to his usual self, all costumed up. "Is there a problem here, boys? You giving my friend some trouble?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry registers Gar's presence. Rabbit is getting back to his feet and looks at Gar. Maurice looks away from Terry to look at Gar. Everything is happening too quickly and too slowly at the same time.

Maurice has a shotgun. Rabbit dropped his gun.

Terry reacts on pure instinct, taking advantage of the distraction the green superhero provides. He turns on his heel and runs- towards Rabbit, aiming to give the man who is trying to get to his feet a kick to the face... because he wants to get his hands on that gun before Rabbit can get it.

"Gar he has a shotgun!" Terry cries out as his foot makes contact with Rabbit's face.

Gar Logan has posed:
"Who the fuck is this rabbit?" Rabbit wants to know, gesturing Beast Boy's way.

Maurice is looking less pleased by the minute. "Doesn't matter. He's in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the first guy."

Gar spreads his arms out wide. "Oh, come on. Beast Boy? Formerly of the Titans? World's coolest green hero and actor? Don't tell me you've never heard of me! Maybe I really /do/ need a publicist!"

As the thugs just look at each other, it gives Terry the opening he needs, the kick connecting with the dumbfounded Rabbit's head and sending him sprawling. The gun is there for the taking. Maurice, however, is digging for that sawed-off again, and this time he intends to use it.

"Ah ah ah, hands where I can see them! I know there are a couple big Hummers getting closer and I also know what that means in this area. Why don't you have a seat over there for me?" He leaps at Maurice and changes in mid-flight into a tiger, bowling into the man and knocking him aside - but not before the shotgun discharges, sending buckshot off to one side.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Terry reaches for the gun, his heart threatening to erupt out of his chest as he fumbles first, and then aims it directly at Rabbit. "On the floor or I shoo-"

It is a veritable miracle that Terry is only grazed across the shoulder. Considering how things could have gone, if he had been closer, or a little more to the left... he is very lucky.

He may not feel that way right now, though, as blood blooms out of his right shoulder and he lets out a cry. Oh, yeah, and the gun? It discharges as he jerks sharply from the pain. Fortunately for Rabbit, though, the gun tilts and the trajectory of the bullet is not fatal. It will, however, leave Rabbit with a bullet to the foot, which turns out not to be as lucky as his namesake's.

"AUGH Motherf----" Terry falls to his knees and clutches the injured area. It's a minor injury, a grazing, but it's the first time he's ever been shot. You might forgive him.

Gar Logan has posed:
Maurice is big and tough, but not so strong and sturdy that he can handle a tiger tackling him. It doesn't help that as the shotgun goes off, he lands with his head cracking against the pavement. No blood beyond a surface scrape, no cracked skull, but he's out colder than Gar's bed when the shifter gets home later. "And stay down." The tiger pats Maurice on the head with a big paw.

That's when Rabbit's shriek cuts through the ringing in Beast Boy's ears. "Muthafucka! You muthafuckin' shot me in my muthafuckin' foot, yo! What's wrong with you?" He's bleeding, his foot is in a whole lot of pain, and he sure isn't about to be seeking revenge. Not such a bad muthafucka now, is he?

The lights of the Hummers draw closer from a street away, leaving them very little time to figure out what to do. It doesn't help that now Beast Boy's realized someone else has been shot. He's over in a flash, back to normal, and trying to cradle the guy protectively. "Terry? They got you? Don't die! We only just became friends! You can't die on me!"

This is why he doesn't get paid the big bucks in Hollywood.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
There's pain, and then there's pain. Even a grazing hurts like hell, when you're only human. There may be supermen capable of shrugging off bullets, or short little hairy men capable of healing in an instant and spitting the bullet out. Terry isn't any of these things.

Grabbing at his shoulder, his hands tinged with blood, he moans. "Gar, get me out of here-" he says weakly. "Keys in the car... Ooowww.... under the seat. Just... get me to a hospital..."

He's doing the best he can not to faint.

Gar Logan has posed:
"Yeah, let's get out of here. Whatever they're doing, it's probably too many people for me to take care of by myself, and I really wish the other Titans were here right now because this kind of stuff /sucks/ to do alone!" Beast Boy is rambling, but the sound of the Hummers gets close enough that it, and the mention of 'hospital' gets him to act. "Right, yeah."

Into the car they go, and it's accidental that Gar happens to push against the grazed shoulder. "Oops! Sorry! Getting going on the getting out of here thing!" He literally disappears from view, shrinking down to mouse-size so he can more easily snag the keys, hopping back into the driver's seat, slipping the key into the ignition, turning the engine over, and /flooring/ it in the opposite direction just as the headlights start to turn their way and shine upon Maurice and Rabbit down and out.

The gang members, spooked, quickly assess the situation and keep on going, thinking there is more trouble waiting for them, a potential setup.

Beast Boy drives like a bat out of hell, and 'I Can't Drive 55' comes on at just the right time en route to the nearest medical center. "Hold out a little longer, little buddy! Focus on my voice! Do not go gentle into that good night! It's not your time!" If nothing else, going on like that will do the trick.