17215/Saturday Night's Alright for Fightin'

Saturday Night's Alright for Fightin'
Date of Scene:	18 February 2024
Location:	Josie's Bar
Synopsis:	Saturday night fun is turns sour for some of the FDNY off shift for the night. Friends old and new help save the day when bangers decide to bring their turf war to Josie's Bar.
Cast of Characters:	Luca Bandoni, Sara Pezzini, Joshua Foley

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Luca Bandoni has posed:
It's Saturday night and Luca is, wait for it, OFF SHIFT. Someone that knows him, would definitely know that the place to find him on a Saturday when he's off shift is Josie's. It's not just him, he's with a few of his fellow firefighters from rescue one and a few from Ladder 8. It's a scene that's been played many times over the years.

Luca's in back at the pool table squaring off against someone that looks way too fresh to be anything but a candidate. He's just sunk the eight ball to resounding cheers from the seasoned veterans.

"I can't believe you made that shot!" exclaims the youngun. They all said..." Luca finishes the sentence, "... that I can't shoot pool? Yeah, and you fell for it. That'll cost you twenty."

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Saturday night and Sara is, wait for it, never off duty... however she is intending to relax and enjoy a drink. Tonight she has chosen a local dive to take Josh out for his first legal drink with his girlfriend. This place was common for after hours with the FDNY, and some NYPD, which meant it was the perfect place to show off the literal golden boy.

Out of habit she would head for the door first, and even hold it open for Josh to go in first. It was her nature to check things out before letting those she cared about go forward, it was also her job.

Without even looking toward the back, she knew the voice she heard and the scam that was taking place. A smirk touched her lips as she rolled her eyes... Luca Bandoni was at it again.

Joshua Foley has posed:
So to be fair. This is Josh's first legal drink in the United States with Sara, as he is retelling a story to her as she opens the door. "So this guy, he says, 'I've read up on Annette Crowe! She sounds like someone who slept her way into money!'" There's a faint flare in Joshua's golden skin as he recalls that part. "And so... I couldn't let them insult mom like that, and I slugged him with that big... what is that giant mug called?" he's trying to recall it.

As he passes by Sara, there's a quick kiss on her cheek. "Someday I'll beat you to the door first and hold it open for you." A smirk offered as he looks around the place, pausing once he's inside to unfasten his jacket to look around. "I remember you telling me about this place. I thought you were exaggerating."

And of course, he's already getting out his wallet. "I'm going to need to get a new ID." he rumbles, realizing that he arrived at that sweet point right after his twenty-first birthday where his ID has expired and is still stamped 'UNDER 21' and the DMV isn't open to swap it out. "Remind me to do that Monday. Hopefully they'll accept my passport as ID?"

Luca Bandoni has posed:
The kid pays off his debt and grumbles under his breath on the way back to the rest of the group, "You all fuckin' suck." That just sends them all to laughing like fools.

Luca may not be NYPD, but he's been around enough of them that the first thing he does when a door opens is to look toward it and see who's coming through it. Always prepared right.

"Pez!" he calls out WELL over the noise in the bar. Someone's a few shots of Jack Daniels in. He's just about to wave her over when it all goes to Hell, and not just the kitchen.

It's well known that the Triple Sixes and the Insane Clowns - two low level players in the gang landscape - have been battling over territory recently. The three men who bust through the front door are wearing Triple's colors, one clutching a bleeding shoulder and the other two waving guns around.

It's just a breath, barely a heartbeat before Luca screams, "GIDDOWN!" It's less time than that before the bullets are flying through the windows of the bar, shattering like so many of Josie's dreams.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Damn right you had to slug the bastard," Sara replies to Josh with a nod, getting just far enough into the bar to not be in the door way. "No one insults our Nettie that way, especially some British fuck."

Her eyes shift toward the voice that calls out, long enough to rest on Luca and offer a nod, then she adds to what she said to Josh, "Your passport is more than enough."

She was about to take Josh's hand and guide him toward the back, introductions were in order after all, when the shit literally hits the fan. Under normal circumstances, Witchblade would just rip through the clothing on Sara's body to form the armor she was far too well known for. This time however, it was different.

The bracelet on her right wrist forms the Gauntlet over the sleeve of her leather jacket just seconds before the gangers burst through the door. Metal tendrils wrap up and around her upper body over the leather, just to form the large metal wings on her back. He has already warned her of impending danger, the voice in her head, but for him to not just destroy her clothing to protect her was something entirely new.

The wings were enough to protect her from the bullets, but her natural instincts also kick in which causes her to tackle Josh to the floor.

"For fucks sake!" she growls, only then realizing that the jacket Josh got her wasn't ruined.

The gangers likely weren't prepared for there to be an NYPD Detective, Agent of SHIELD, an AVENGER in the bar, but right now her first interest was ensuring Josh wasn't shot.

Joshua Foley has posed:
"So yeah, after that, I bought a round for the bar. Because mom woulda wanted that too. Of course, I used her card." Now that they are inside the bar, his hand in Sara's, when he quips, "You know, Sara, you do not have to get me drunk to take advantage of me." he offers with a soft little playful tone. Apparently he's gotten a little more playful with the flirting in the last couple of months.

There was about to be more, but just then the three men arrive. Already, Josh's biokenesis is going off, taking in the injury that the one has suffered, but it's Sara's transformation that alerts him tio hit the deck. Dropping to a knee as they come in, the bullets come in next, shattering the window, and several of the rounds whiz past the spot where the golden mutant was just before.

He'll focus on that later. For the moment, there's three people - two armed. The drive-by can wait, these are the immediate threats. Neutralizing the ones with the guns are the most dangerous, and they need to be stopped.

What he does is decisive - something he's rarely done, but Sara's seen it happened. Springing to his feet, he grabs one of the gunmen by the hand, and his body glows a brighter gold before flipping to black. "Broken wrist." he growls, snapping every bone i the man's wrist to make him drop the gun.

Luca Bandoni has posed:
It's /complete/ chaos for what seems an eternity. In reality it's probably less than a minute of people screaming and diving for cover, standing with doe eyes staring wide at the windows and unable to move. At least four are hit and down, too bad none of the four are one of the three that are causing all of it. Then it all falls silent.

The jukebox drops a record - yes a record - and the Bee Gees begin pelting out Night Fever. The song immediately draws Luca's attention that way. "Roscoe!" he calls out before trying to make a mad dash for his fallen 'brother' laying near the jukebox. That's five hit, and the fifth one isn't moving. He's stopped dead by a glock pointed straight at his head. "Don't move mother-fucker," gets barked out by one of the panicked Triple's. "Don't anyone move!"

There's something about running for one's life from the very real threat of opposing bangers with guns, that makes things like sprouting weird wings ping in the background of the brain, but not so much in the fore brain - yet.

The bleeding banger goes to lock the door.

Outside it's quiet, so quiet. Maybe it was just a drive-by, maybe the Clowns have moved on and all that's left to deal with is those inside? One could only hope.

Luca has the full attention of the one banger still holding a gun, but he has an answer to his buddy's screams of pain. "I will blow this fools brains out the backside of his head if ANYONE ELSE MOVES!"

The locked door handle rattles ominously.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Once certain Josh is safe, Sara spins around and is back up on her feet. Although her jacket survives the forming of the armor, her pants do not. The tendrils of metal shred through the jeans to form the metal armor over her legs. Across her chest the metal presses the jacket tight against her body as it forms the armor over her for protection. The process is a matter of seconds, those same moments used to access the situation now that she's on her feet.

"Everyone just take a breath," comes her calm, authoritative voice. She could easily take on all three of these men, have them on the ground in a matter of seconds, but the guns are pointed at civilians, at Luca. She was fast, insanely so, but she wasn't faster than a bullet.

"Josh, let him go," she then says, taking a few small steps toward the three as the metal wings fold in against her back. "Let's work out what you three want and ensure no one else gets hurt."

They were grouped together, that made it a little easier for what Witchblade was doing. Even as she was talking about being calm, doing what they wanted, a thin tendril of metal was slinking out from the armor on her feet and moving toward the man with the gun pointed at Luca. Inside her mind Witchblade was screaming, raging, demanding blood for the audacity of these worthless humans... was he in some small way echoing the anger inside of Sara?

Joshua Foley has posed:
Sara's seen that look in Josh's eyes before, as more and more of that golden skin is turning black. He can cause great harm if he wanted, but when she speaks to him, and the young mutant draws in a breath, letting it out slowly. His hand releases the Three's wrist as he shakes out his hand as if he touched something disgusting.

And with her calming presence, the blackened skin starts to return it's golden hue, as he scans the crowd to take in the wounded. Figure out who has it the worse, and his attention is first on the wounded Threes. "You have a broken wrist." That matter-of-factly to the one he grabbed. He knows that because he's the one that broke it.

"You have a through and through. It's not life threatening, but it's a bleeder." he offers up. With those two out of the way, he's reaching out to feel the others that were hit, trying to sense their injuries, his mind is trying to triage them. And he is speaking mainly because it keeps their attention on him and now what his girlfriend is doing.

This apparently is not the first time he's been shot at. Or been in a triage situation.

Luca Bandoni has posed:
Luca's jaw clenches nearly to the point of cracking teeth. His eyes dart to Roscoe and then back to the gun pointed at his head. It happens a few times, he's definitely considering going for his friend anyway.

The only thing that stops him are, like Sara, all the civilians in the bar. He leaps into action, banger shoots at him, misses and maybe hits a mother of three cowering behind him.

"Sara," his voice is almost pleading. The 'it's /Roscoe/' is unspoken, but perhaps screamed loudly to someone that knows him well enough.

As far as the civilians go, the ones that aren't bleeding are, at least, doing what they're told and not moving. So far, none of them have decided to play hero, not even the other Rescue 1 guys.

"What we /want/ is for you to shut the fuck up until we..."

But the banger doesn't get to finish before two rounds go pop pop from outside. It would have been just as easy to kick the door in, but these guys are out to wave dicks at each other. The handle and the lock busted, someone from outside calls, "Send them out or we'll come in and take them out!" Something in the way he says it makes it perfectly clear that he means shoot them dead as they way of 'taking them out'.

For the most part, the civilians hit aren't in any immediate danger of dying. One to the abdomen that hit nothing vital, one to a leg that is very close to the femoral artery - victim stable, one just a graze to the head - ear mangled and one is feeling the same pain as the bleeding banger. It's only Roscoe that's an immediate concern. With every breath he takes, he's sucking air into his chest cavity from that bullet wound.

In the distance police sirens wail. Coming in hot like that could, very well, escalate this situation rather than de-escalate.

The Bee Gees are just about to the end of their song.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
"Sorry gentlemen, but we can't do 'shut the fuck up'," Sara states plainly only moments after the demands from outside are made. "You may place no value on human life other than your own, but I do... so here's what we're going to do."

Her eyes remain locked on the lead speaker, he has to be the one in charge of the three. The tendril moves quietly, slowly toward the man. The distance of the sirens tells here five to eight minutes until someone else gets shot.

"You want to survive. We want to help the wounded," she continues, standing up straighter. "Josh here is going to go help Roscoe first, and while he does that, you're going to put your gun away," she isn't asking, she's telling, she's taking command as she always does. "In exchange for your cooperation, I'm going to ensure that the assholes outside not only /don't/ get to kill you, but that they don't get inside. Does this sound like a fair exchange of energies to you? You get to live, the wounded get to be tended to, and if you're really lucky, the guys outside piss me off enough they get hurt."

Joshua Foley has posed:
Slowly, Joshua gets to his feet, looking around, drawing in a breath. "I'm a healer." Not a medic, not a doctor. Healer. An Elixir, as his mother called him. "You let me take care of the badly wounded, and I'll get to you."

But there's no movement towards anyone until they agree to Sara's terms before he moves. No need to muck things up until there's a plan.

Luca Bandoni has posed:
"I'm not losing my piece, man," the banger replies. That isn't to say he's not willing to maybe negotiate. "Ain't gonna shoot nobody unless someone makes a wrong move, that happens and this Bandoni's dead." Ah, that's not good. This hoodrat banger knows - probably from some piece in the paper about some heroic rescue - that Luca is a Bandoni; a Bandoni with a whole lot of NYPD family, someone that could potentially make the perfect hostage if it gets that far. Boys in blue aren't so likely to risk the life of the son of a fallen brother.

"Hey man, I'll do whatever you want, just let them help my friend." Luca raises his hands, palms out, a gesture of surrender.

"You," the gunman directs at Joshua, "...go, help him."

"Cops!" rings out from outside. "We ain't leavin' without those fuckers!" Seems the Clowns are having their own brand of negotiations outside. "We ain't gonna get at none of them if we land in jail..." Back and forth, back and forth with time ticking away. Their name rather suits them, only a clown would risk still being out there when the police arrive.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Things were progressing nicely, seems the ganger had some intelligence after all. The last thing Sara wanted was for someone else to get shot, especially Luca... though if the gang banger was stupid enough, he would sow the wrath of a very large family.

"I'm going to move myself over by the door," she informs him, holding up her armored hands, palms out, to show that she has no weapon and she keeps them that way as she moves toward the door. "If I put myself between it and you, they can't get past me."

Spreading the large metal wings on her back, she demonstrates how they are more than large enough to block the door and any other bullets that might try to come through it. The tendril, now in range, lingers without further movement until she has positioned herself at the door. This would keep everyone out, but it would also keep everyone in.

Her eyes shift to Josh quickly for a moment, then go back to the gun. It was time, the movements, the stress, the arguments outside, the cops so close, action was required. She'd given the man a chance, now it was time to remove the threat inside the room. The tendril moves with lighting speed to wrap itself around the gun and plug the barrel, while also around the arm holding the gun. With the strength one might expect of a superhero, the metal yanks downward to pull the man off balance.

"Just drop to your knees!" she orders with the attack, not moving from the doorway. "You've already lost!"

Joshua Foley has posed:
Once the gang-banger gives his permission, Joshua is moving to the bar first. He may have already felt out Roscoe's injuries. "Bottle of vodka. Strongest you got." he demands, and when it's handed to him, he's making his way over to the injured man. There's a glance to Luca, and he draws in a breath. "Not the way that Sara probably wanted to introduce me, but hello." he manages as he kneels down next to Roscoe.

And he immediately rips the shirt open, moving to pull the fabric away from the wound. "I'm going to need his help." he points at Luca. "Need someone to keep the patient stable. You can keep an eye on both of us."

It's a lie, but he means to bring Luca closer to him because he's pretty sure Pez has a plan. Pulling the spout from the vodka, he pours it directly into the wound to disinfect it before he uses more to wash off his hands. Once that's done, he places his hands directly on the man's chest and closes his eyes. His skin starts to glow, his blonde hair moving about as he starts the knitting process from the inside out.

As Luca watches, the bullet slug is ejected first and just -- the viens, muscles, skin... the lung -- it all starts to pull itself back together and heal.

The young man just quietly talks to himself, willing himself through the repair, he doesn't know all the terms for it - he just knows what it's supposed to look like and that's what he's aiming for. His golden hue extends to Roscoe, covering the wound.

And that;s when Sara makes her move. And while she is doing that, Joshua keeps his focus on his task at hand, ducking down just in case. He continues to heal and knit, soft breathes pushed from his body as he extends the effort, knowing that he's going to be tired after this. But... he can heal Roscoe. This is not going to be that hard.

Luca Bandoni has posed:
A big family indeed, it's a 50/50 shot that at least one of the cruisers heading this way is carrying Bandoni blood.

If Sara was maybe a hair slower, it could have ended badly for Luca. Instead the banger drops to his knees as told. Broken hand banger, quiet until now, mutters, "We're fucked." Bleeding banger gives his two buddys a big old 'fuck you' as he tries to bolt for the backdoor.

The Clowns outside make the stupid choice and decide to try to get inside to take out their rivals only to be stopped by a pair of big metal wings. Will they try to shoot it out with the police when they arrive? Are they /that/ stupid?

Every single cell in Luca's body wants to run for Roscoe. But his friend seems to be in really good hands. "Don't let him die," is warned through clenched teeth. Really, he's not an asshole, he's just scared for his brother in arms. He turns his attention to the rest of the injured. Coats and jackets are snagged from where they rest on the backs of chairs. 'Here, hold pressure there.' 'Try to be still, don't move that leg'. 'You'll be fine, it's just a flesh wound.' From one to the next to the next, he offers comfort and basic first-aid with what he has on hand. And from one to the next, he adds that little kick of something, that little bit of his own healing that takes away some pain, slows some bleeding. He can't outright heal all of them completely, he's not that good. Even what he's done, treating multiple victims at one time, has him pale and sweating.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
With her back braced against the door, legs planted solid to ensure she can't be moved, Sara controls the tendril holding the man down now. The gun is wrapped thoroughly in metal, it's evidence after all, but more importantly she needs to keep the man down.

"You were all fucked the day you joined a gang," she mutters, loud enough to be heard but not precisely shouting it out.

"I am the Witchblade," she announces loudly toward the door behind her. "I am an Avenger, so I strongly suggest you either drop your weapons and surrender peacefully, or you'll be facing someone you are outmatched by on a level you can't comprehend."

As the ganger bolts for the back door, another tendril whips out from the armor and grabs his feet. He might face plant, but it's worth it to keep him there. "That statement goes for you as well asshat," she comments dryly. "Just stay down."

Joshua Foley has posed:
Luca may have told Joshua not to let Roscoe die, but the young man offers no response. This is not his first rodeo or critical condition healing. It takes s couple of more minutes, but finally he removes his hands and breathes in deeply. "He's out. Stable. But out of the woods." In fact, he's healed. "He'll need to go to the hospital to recover the blood loss. I can't do that."

And with that, he's washing off his hands in vodka to move to the next most wounded to start work on them. And he will probably keep at it, going around healing and treating the worst of them - until he burns himself out for the night or until someone tells him to stop.

But in truth, it's what he does to control his power better. Just like when he goes for a run until he's exhausted. Then he heals himself. And keeps on going. Because he doesn't want to be a burden to the team he's on.

Luca Bandoni has posed:
Screw that! The guys outside the door finally share the right brain cell at the same time and /bolt/. They scatter like cockroaches when the light's turned on. Facing NYPD would have been bad enough, but an Avenger? Oh hell no.

Sara has the three inside well in hand. When the police and paramedics arrive, the scene is well under control. And, sure enough, one of them just happens to be Giovanni Bardoni Jr. There's a touch of panic to the way he enters the bar, but once he lays eyes on his baby brother, he's all business while letting the younger Bandoni take care of his.

As for Luca, once the three bangers are all officially in police custody, he approaches Sara and actually plants a kiss on her cheek, "Thanks Pez." The same sentiment is offered to Joshua, "Thank you." But it's minus the cheek kiss. When they move to 'load and go' with Roscoe, Luca is right on their heels. "I'm gonna ride with," he calls back to Sara. "Can you stop by the apartment and take Rigs out?"

...and deal with all the questions and reports needing filed. Smooth move Bandoni.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
From Avenger to NYPD Detective in two point two seconds. The minute the Clowns bolt, Sara steps away from the door to let the police and paramedics in. When the three inside are safely in custody, her attention turns to Luca.

"We'll stop by on our way home," she states. "Call me and let me know when Roscoe is released, and when you get home."

The kiss is accepted with a smile, and she whispers in the moment, "I always got your back." and then she is headed over to Josh.

Laying her hand on his shoulder she leans down and kisses him lightly on the cheek, "You're done here."

The follow up questions are simple to deal with really, she's an Avenger... that means she will file her report with the department tomorrow via Email, most likely with Jarvis ensuring it's all worded properly.

"Let's go home so I can spoil you," she then adds, offering her hand to help him up.

Joshua Foley has posed:
Joshua was just finishing up treating one of the wounded when he feels Sara's familiar presence and he smirks. "You know, I thought the geese were bad." he murmurs to her with a shake of his head. The kiss to his cheek and her words causes him to finish what he's doing.

And don't think he didn't notice things. There will be more questions later. But for now, he just lets it go, and accepts Sara's hand so she can pull him to his feet. "Home sounds good. Spoiling sounds better."