19213/It's a Little Crowded Tonight

It's a Little Crowded Tonight
Date of Scene:	04 October 2024
Location:	Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	Caleb is headed for the Laughing Magician to give Meggan a present for her birthday, but comes across an old enemy setting up a trap. Cain and Meggan come to help, and Caleb gets caught in the crossfire.
Cast of Characters:	Caleb Dykstra, Meggan Puceanu, Cain Marko

---

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
'The streets of Hell's Kitchen take something of a dark turn at night, just like Gotham', is what goes through Caleb's mind as he walks the street on his way to the Laughing Magician, just a couple blocks away. 'It almost feels like home.'

And then, the 'almost' part sinks in, and he shakes away the thought, all the memories of his time in the mob rushing back in.

But that is momentary, as tonight is a cause for celebration, isn't it? Through the grapevine, he learned when Meggan's birthday was coming, and now he was bringing her something. Something he had experimented, and had a mark of success with. Somethihg he felt she'd like, maybe to have on her in the future, or perhaps just for ornament. It'd be up to her, really.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The Laughing Magician's a place Meggan tends to frequent more often than in recent months, though rarely is the Tuath de Danaan a stranger. It's a hell of a lot closer for classes at Columbia than trudging all the way to Gotham. Fast transit or no fast transit, sometimes a girl just needs a place to cool her heels and have a proper drink. Scarlet braids swinging down her back, the fading traces of honeyed gold turning to a distinct bronze shade, she pushes the door open with the lightest of touches. Party girl looks like she stepped out of a concert, tights and pleated plaid mini-skirt matched to a cold-shoulder t-shirt working the whole Y2K renaissance.

The evening is young by her standards. Even if John is off doing wizard stuff -- or putting the littlest Constantine to bed -- she still doesn't register any particularly angry vibe. Books bump against her hip in a worn bag that's seen more years than most. A few chairs in the way present no particularly difficult obstacle course to anyone light on liquor and sighted, so she navigates her way closer to the bar. A couple stray sparks might happen to twinkle in her wake, but what else is new? Here, the oddities tend to stay suppressed, only her pointed ears giving away anything odd, and good luck seeing them through the design.

Thus, in a measure of arrival, hers is a pretty tame one.

Cain Marko has posed:
The Juggernaut has been busy. A recent trip back to Thailand to investigate the aftermath of the machinations of The Cult of the Rage Father. An verbal duel with Cyttorak and his current crop of allies and friends who supposedly 'shackle him' with their friendships and wishes for his well being. A mission to Madripoor to investigate the ruins of one of his safehouses where stolen tech and finances had been stashed regarding another endeavour he had in mind that seems like a distant dream now... And that's not to mention his need to re-engage with old clients to rebuild a damaged reputation concerning his reliability for mercenary work and assorted capers...such things damaged by the fact that he spent a few months damn near out of his mind.

And somehow in all of that he's fitting in time to try and aid The Justice League Dark or The Brotherhood as circumstances warrent. He needs a vacation...but...hitting up a favored bar should be good enough. He could have chosen any haunt. The Bar With No Name may have been a great option but nay, this evening, he's chosen to grace The Laughing Magician with his presence. Something about 'friends' maybe being there...go figure.

So the bruiser approaches the bar dressed in simple form fitting jeans, a tee-shirt pressed to its limits by the monstrous bulk of his torso, and a brown leather leather custom fit jacket to match the heavy boots on his enormous feet. A baseball cap shrouds his features and shadoes his eyes and his very movements seem to distort and rumble the air as he casually passes by others on the streets on the way to the bar.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
The young Gothamite continues his way to the Laughing Magician, every now and then looking at the occasional passer-by. But, overall, a good night. A work well done. No trouble, no nothing.

And yet, from the nearby shadows...

There's a woman's scream coming from a darkened alleyway, followed by the stumbling of a man that comes into view, hand over his stomach, he winces in pain, while the woman screams, "HELP! HELP! MY BOYFRIEND'S HURT!"

Caleb looks around to focus on the sound, and looks backwards, to an alleyway he'd just passed some moments ago.

Now, his first instinct is to help, but... Again, better be careful, right?

So, slow steps, he approaches, "Hey lady... What just happened?"

"We... WE WERE ATTACKED! THEY TOOK OUR PHONES, OUR WALLETS...", she screams to near-hysteria, "P-PLEASE... DON'T JUST STAND THERE! HELP US!!"

Caleb grabs his phone...

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Bars have a special ambience to them after nightfall, a kind of coziness that envelopes patrons slipping in from the outside. Muffled conversations and clinking glasses rarely rise in din unless someone's hit up the sound system with whatever notoriously loud punk selection John stocked the place with. Never mind someone managed to stuff Lady Gaga in there or something out of the darkwave era. The Smiths happen to be on auditory tap for the moment, much less rough and opinionated than the other rebels pressed into vinyl.

Meggan swallows some of the relatively good mood around her without trying. Warm waves break against her psyche and settle in the way a proper shot of good whisky, not the cheap stuff, goes down like a trail of amber that settles glowing in the belly. Her empathy skims off the top, spotting the bruises on the apples and the hard cider of shared joys. One sticks out for sure--a friend, definitely counts as one of John's. Anyone who knows the Juggernaut's signature has a hard time missing him. Looking back and her copper eyes brighten. There's the curve of a smile, not quite gone to smirk. Guilty as charged, a guy that big not hiding and her making no attempt to do that. Since their paths converge for the bar, she eases languidly that way, polished black curb-stomping boots thunking when her soles hit ground. "Evening." That's the casual form of Hullo. This time she doesn't sound one bit Thai, more her Celto-Brythonic self. Smudged kohl and mascara rimming her gaze gets rubbed slightly by her thumb as she almost hops onto a stool.

Almost, floating in place.

Fear is her appetizer and dinner. Always a lot of that to go around in Hell's Kitchen; otherwise, Matt's out of his moonlighting career. Hyperattunement has her turning her head slightly, gauging. A note of something. Her lips part and she gestures to Bastien. Benji. Whatever was the guy's name? Bartender Beto. "Mix me up a surprise to celebrate another turn on the wheel, if you would?" It's as close as she gets to please about now. Then her gaze strikes back to Cain anew, friendly enough. "Getting by? It's an odd night out there."

Cain Marko has posed:
Screams in Hell's Kitchen. It's sadly not all that unusual.

Cain is used to the sound of screams. Most of the ones he hears are caused by him for that matter. It's par for the course. A result of the work he does and the company he keeps. Still - as the one ladies scream pierces the night air he is forced to pause as he opens the door to the bar and he glances away from it to cut his gaze down the streets in the direction that the sound rolled in from.

The Juggernaut isn't in the habit of attending to petty crime on the streets unless it happens to involve him directly but...it's human nature to be curious. Despite any claims by himself, elder gods, or others...he is still 'human'.

"Huh.." he rumbles before a certain something causes him to glance into the bar as well to see Meggan, already comfortably there and offering him a friendly and warm smile. He doesn't know her well, no. Primarily introduced to her via John after all but her warmth and her kind words during their last outing in Thailand? Those are hard to forget or ignore. So much so he's briefly tongue tied before he finally offers her a slightly lopsided smirk. "...'ey."

It's a simple greeting but his attention is pulled back to the outside of the bar and he glances towards her again and then his smirk becomes a grin, "Wanna get into some trouble?" he asks with a slight jerk of his head to the outside streets? Might as well see what the fuss is about...

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Meanwhile, back on the street...

"W... WHAT'RE YOU DOING!?", the young woman shouts. "THERE'S TIME TO... TO... TO CALL!" She nudges, "HELP HIM UP!"

"That's the last thing you should be doing", Caleb says. And he slides his phone...

Wait... He slides his phone??

...Seriously??

And the boyfriend just moans, sliding over from a sitting position against the wall to a dropped position. And he moans.

The woman screams more, "Oh, god... HE'S DYING!"

"Just keep him lying, apply pressure on the wound..."

He looks at the dark alley, warily - this is not the first rodeo, after all. "Come on, come on..."

And he finds it - camera.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
The sounds ricochet off of the alleyway walls and resonate into the night. Not entirely unfamiliar, depressingly so. All too well known for the likes of Hell's Kitchen. Meggan needs little encouragement to swivel on the stool and pay more heed to the door once Cain points out what the actual sound is. Not a squeal of metal, not a video game or movie.

"You don't say," she grins right back, though the warmth doesn't quite reach her eyes. Rather than slide into action, it's more a case of her pouring herself into motion, a transition marked by a quick double-step that doesn't touch the floor. Forgetfulness will do that, alas.

"Ait, lead on then." The sweep of her bangs falls across her face and into her eyes. Braids slither as the distance to the door and the much more formidable man keeping anyone else from wandering through narrows to nil.

Night awaits; the cool bite of the changing season. Darkness is a flower to enfold those who brave heroics or something in between. Unarmed, well, that's just a moniker for new forms of trouble. Who wants to throw hands with the Juggernaut even dressed up as a civvy?

Still, the shouts give a direction. The fear and pain give a direction.

Cain Marko has posed:
"Sure, sure, given that I'm a gentleman and all that jazz."

He even holds the door open for her and allows her to enter the streets besides him before letting the entry way close on its own with a heavy echoe to the sound of it slamming shut.

That done, he begins moving and, as requested and as intended, he begins taking the lead and moving in the direction of the sound that had so pierced the night and, for that matter, the continued screaming as the womans frantic and wild shouts and cries are becoming and more and more audible to him as he begins moving away from the bar with the better half of the Constantines not far behind him.

Then, he finally sees Caleb. "...You gotta be kidding me..."

Truthfully Cain's opinion of the young man isn't great but it's not the same level of fury that Constantine has. He wasn't there for Caleb's 'more then just a few' faux paus. Caleb was at the Temple of Cyttorak, true enough, though Cain questioned the logic behind that.... But beyond that he's developed more of a cold indifference to teh young man even though Caleb may think otherwise given Cain's presence at that last meeting. Seeing him now, however? It's not necessarily doing him any favors.

"What th'hell kinda trouble is this kid up to -now-.." he asks brusquely of both the universe at large and the nearby Meggan as he starts to close in on the Gothamite and the alleyway he's facing.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
The woman's voice is lowered, from a cry to an enraged voice at whatever Caleb seems to be doing.

"Look, you little /shit/", her voice almost changes. "When someone cries for help, you're not supposed to take pictures, you're supposed to /help/!" She bellows out, "So, put down that phone, and /get your ass here and help/!!"

"And I told you, just keep pressure on the wound", he says, still warily. "I'm no paramedic, so it's gonna take a bit for help to arrive. Just keep his head up while I..."

Camera light.
&
Which he aims towards the alley, and...

Several other people seem to be huddled together, all bearing a staring look. And a grin.

A grin that's all too familiar to him. A grin that sometimes comes to haunt him in his dreams.

The woman sobs and lowers her head... Only to raise it, and bear the same kind of grin. And, of course, the same with the boyfriend.

"Peekaboo...", they say in unisson, followed by all the other people's voices in a disturbingly synchronized unisson. <<WE FOUND YOU!>>

Caleb rushes back, jumping over the cars, while that crowd of people all step out of the alleyway.

"Fuck, I hate it when I'm right!"

Cain Marko has posed:
"Wait here..." suggests Cain to Meggan, before stepping forward towards Caleb. He's not sure if she sees him yet and she will probably not wait for very long but he takes a few steps forward and starts toc lose in on he alleyway as the shouting continues..and the voice changes.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" he says, reaching out as Caleb begins rapidly retreating from the alley and goes sliding over a nearby parked car.

"What's the problem!?"

He turns his attention towards the alleyway now, seeing the huddled group of people therein and the madcap grin on their faces.

"Th'hell is going on here?"

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
Caleb barely recognizes Cain as he lands past the cars, and runs awy to the middle of the street.

Is there a, 'Oh hi, Cain! Nice to see you?'. Nope. There is but one word of warning as he pulls gear from his wrists:

"CROWD!!"

This crowd reaches the cars, and some of them push against the parked cars serving as a barrage, followed by another row, and another...

And their combined efforts start to push the cars out of the way, leaving skid marks on the floor.

He produces from his wrists a pair of shurikens which he aims at the tightly packed group, led by no one in particular, and throws. They bury themselves in the members of the group, which does nothing to stop them.

"Tear through them!!", he says.

Cain Marko has posed:
SO ow he has shurikens. Cain squints his eyes, coming to a stop to watch as this madness emerges from the alleyway and starts to push into the, fortunantely mostly empty due tothe hour, streets of Hell's Kitchen. Despite the panic in Caleb's voice he seems unphased..confused more then anything. Horror isn't necessarily something that he deals with. He -is- the Jason Vorhees of most peoples stories after all. As a mortal he fought in the Korean War. As The Avatar of Strength and Destruction..he's fought in more places then can be easily described or quantified, had arguements with elder gods and nearly broken the bones and bodies of hte strongest beings alive.

This, infront of him? This is just wierd. But he does know alarm when he sees it.

"Get behind me kid..." he grumbles as he starts forward to begin to wade into the surging crowd. His immense frame an immovable monolith against their efforts to push against them.

What happens next is..explosive. Cain swings, bringing both fo his hands around and clapping his palms together to produce a loud thunderous *KATHOOOM* that deonates in the air around him like a concussive bomb going off. Windows shattedr, alarms go off, the streets rock violently - and the explosive shockwave rips out from him in a wide area of effect intent on quite literally...blowing the crowd back and away. It's not fully unrestrained - but it -will- blow things away.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
"W-wait...", Caleb says in confusion. "What're you d...?"

There's no time to do much, except run away as the Juggernaut opens his arms...

And slams them against one another, creating a massive impact wave!

One from which Caleb doesn't escape from in time.

It hits him in a sideblow, piruetting him mid-air and straight against a car, in an impact that would make Tom Cruise wince!

Fortunately, there are three factors at play here: one, that it's a glancing blowback; two, that he's taken the habit of making his clothes impact-resistant, which absorbs most of the shock, and three, he doesn't hit his head.

Still, there were a few ribs in him that once were poorly healed, then healed right by one Phoebe Beacon at some point... They now reopen!

"GAH!" Caleb yelps upon the impact, feeling that familiar crack, "Oh, shit..."

As for the 'crowd', these huddle together into a sort of ball mid-air in their blowback, landing across the pavement.

And once it's over... They rise, as if nothing had happened. Even if their clothes may be torn in some places, where there should be broken bones and bent limbs, these just straighten up like nothing had happened.

And they start to move again...

*SKOOM!*

Two of the crowd, the ones hit by shurikens, blow up and rupture into flames, their forms melting away from something human to irrecognizable really fast.

On his hand, Caleb has a detonator. "Not human..."

Cain Marko has posed:
Well that shouldn't have happened. Cain frowns, looking annoyed as he considers this. He did indeed note Caleb being caught in the wash of that shockwave as well and the serious tumble he took. His frown deepends. On the one hand, he could simply not care. On the other hand...this is exactly the issue he has with Caleb's continued insistence on being around these sort of circumstances. He's not equipped for it or trained for it. That being said, to blame this creature on Caleb wouldn't be entirely fair.

Though Cain isn't known for his balanced thinking...

"I can't get rid of this thing if yer in the damn way, boy." he says, not having any time to be sympathetic to Caleb's injuries. "What is it, some sort of living putty?"

His hand thrusts down, digging into the streets now and sending a loud resounding thunderous crack roaring out as his enormous fingers begin to pull upwards. His arm flexes and he is suddenly rhauling the streets upwards and rolling the pavement like a massive carpet. Pipes break, more alarms go off, and Cain heaves the massive chunk of streets upwards and then down again, seeking to send it crashingt violently ontop of the crowd - and then even then he continues forward, pressing and rolling forward again to try and entrap and entomb the mass into a complex cage of crushing rubble.

"Get some distance!" he demands of Caleb, likely planning a stunt that'll need some room to function if Caleb doesn't want to take another hard fall.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
And Caleb, he's down for the count.

In the meantime, the strange 'crowd' that was making a beeline for Caleb, seems to realize that it's outnumbered - or outpowered, if you will -, when it sees chunks of street being thrown at it, and does something Caleb will later describe as something entirely new to its one-track mind behavior: it flees, its synchronized movements giving it a coordinated fleet of foot, enough to dodge these chunks like some cockroach escaping a boot.

It'll be a fight for another day.

Some last words are whispered by the young man, "I just wanted to give... a birthday present..."

Cain Marko has posed:
Again---he wasn't expecting that. Not the fleeing, mind you. Common sense and survival would suggest it would flee but the manner of it's escape has now left Cain with a partially rolled up street as if he was a moving man gtting a rug together for transport. So it got away. It would have been orbit, otherwise, or if not that - somewhere deep into the Atlantic.

Frowning lightly, Cain considers this and the damage he's just caused...and then just shrugs. Damage Control will deal with it.

He next turns his attention to Caleb, overhearing him as he falls unconscious. Cain frowns again and then finally just sighs. A more callous Cain...really Cain a few months ago...would have just left Caleb to his own devices in the street but...

"You got some pluck, boy, you're just stupid..." he grumbles under hsi breath as he goes towards the man to pick him up. He'll get him inside the Laughing Magicians and then call for some medical help.

AFter that He's on his own....