Cowboy's Last Stand
1/17/2005
06:23 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 52 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the south at 23 mph, with gusts up to 30 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.94 and falling, and the relative humidity is 89 percent. The dewpoint is 49 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 18:02 Pacific Time on Mon Jan 17 2005.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (49% full).
[Somewhere on Elson street]
The near perfect half moon hangs in the sky, but not many would know considering the clouded over sky. Sharp winds are chilling, but the girls working the corners here had it worse. And from the sound of an argument coming from down one particular alley, the winds are blowing even harder in that area. "I can't believe you came out here to tell me this shit! What Part of Get Out of My Fuckin' Face Do You Not Understand?!" That voice, the unmistakeable tone of Cowboy, is very angry at whoever it is he's yelling at.
The pair of dark eyes that belong to Alicia shine under a street light as she passes beneath it, heading down the street. She decided to walk instead of take her car for a change. She can hear Cowboy's voice in the distance and she can't help but smirk to herself. He can act tough all he wants, she still has his hat. Oh, she's wearing it too! Her boots echo down the street, wearing a pair of baggy blue jeans and a simple denim jacket over her person.
There's a pause, sounding like the yelling is one sided, and it's quickly followed by another burst of "Oh He-ell no bitch, you ain't shovin' that shit up my alley. I Told you it Ain't mine, and like the Fuck I want updates!" Cowboy storms aloud, easily in listening range for anyone who actually gives a damn, but before there is another period of silence, Yi's tone pierces the air like automatic fire. "You bloody piece of shit, I don't Want your support! I came here to tell you to keep your bent dick away from my sister before you knock her up too, you ... you Fucking Penis Wrinkle!"
The Galliard pauses for a moment, hearing Yi's voice. Frowning, she picks up the pace and makes her way over towards the commotion silently, a glare forming into her eyes. What is going on now? Geezus Christ.
A heavy-handed slap stings into the air not more than a second after Yi's insult fired off. The alleyway goes quiet for a few seconds more, and Cowboy emerges at the mouth of the alley, cheesed and looking up and down the street. He wipes off the side of his mouth, and then he starts walking off further down the street, away from the galliard.
"Hey Limp Dick!" Alicia calls out loudly as she continues down the street. "Forget your hat?"
Cowboy spins around, actually answering to the name. He squints with the low, dirty night's lighting with a head tilting for a moment. "Oh Fuck." Less than a second later, he's off and running down the street away like a shot. Oh if only his posse could see him now, running from a girl.
"C'mon cowgirl, you can fuck my car up and talk shit an say I'm vanilla, then haul ass?! Did you just fucking hit my sister?!" Alicia takes off after him, barreling down the street as she ducks her head, racing the sidewalk.
Cowboy doesn't answer. In fact, all he's doing is running like hell away from Alicia as fast as his legs can carry him - like he's running from a black-and-white. He ducks into another alley mouth as soon as one is available, with the sound of trash cans being tipped over echoing into the night.
Making her way to the alley way, Alicia slows down a step and peeks around the edge first, in case bullets start flying through. "Coooow booooy.. come out.. come out.. wherever you are." She calls in.
No bullets. Wherever Cowboy is, he's at least disappeared from immediate view in the alley.
With a frown, Alicia makes her way into the alley, reaching behind her to let a hand dangle on the handle of her gun. She breathes quietly, eyes narrrowed, glancing from side to side carefully.
The shadowed alley extends down between two buildings. A large pair of dumpsters reside on the left of the galliard with piles of black plastic garbage bag flopped around the mouths of the pushed over cans. A few steps further in, Cowboy's voice rings out, "Don't come any closer."
A black raven head pokes over the edge of the building and down at Alicia. The large bird follows Alicia's progress, hopping along the edge of the roof.
"Or what? You're ganna shoot me?" Alicia asks with a smirk upon her face as she continues forward, inching a bit closer to the wall as she moves, using the dumpster as a bit of coverage.
"Bitch I know you be packin'," Cowboy responds, his voice coming from behind a couple of large boxes and crates. "It'd be self-defense." The unmistakeable click of gun hammer being cocked echoes into the alley. From Finds' view, Cowboy's black hat is just visible.
Finds-Stories spreads her wings, so she is in a position above the coyboy's head. The hawk-like five foot wingspan then folds, as the raven drops like a walk and lands on that hat. Caw! Caw! Krrrrruck!
A grin touches the lips of Alicia as she catches sight of the bird flying down. "Looks like you made a friend." She calls over. "So, why are you running for Cowboy. You always run from girls for no reason?" She continues forward, crouching a bit now, trying to obstruct your view. She catches a glass bottle on the ground and lobs it forward and over the dumpster, hoping to have it shatter off to the side.
"Agh! What the fuck!?!" Cowboy's surprised voice echoes out, and soon he's swinging hard at the annoying bird that's suddenly dropped in on him, literally. He swipes off his hat, using it as the first thing to try and knock Finds from the air, not even stopping to look where the bottle crashes and clinks against the concrete.
Finds-Stories flaps upward almost as soon as she lands. While the man is flailing around, she tries to land on his head again. Wings flapping for support, as that wicked looking beak jabs at the man's right eyeball.
Moving quicker, this time silently without a word, Alicia pulls the gun from her jacket and starts to sneak around the dumpster, trying to come up behind Cowboy. While she does this, she is picking up a plastic bottle she found on the ground, putting it over the muzzle of her revolver.
Assaulted from above, Cowboy's flailing is accompanied by cursing and threats of doom and destruction for the feathery being teaming up on him. Finds' beak doesn't get eyeball, but clanks dully off the muzzle of the gun that Cowboy wields. He backs up from the protection of the crates, and without warning the deafening Bang! of the pistol goes off. The bullet whizzes just between the raven's primaries, clipping off the tips and ricocheting off the bricks of the opposing building. He doesn't even see Alicia coming up, though the galliard can see him.
Finds-Stories hisses like a cornered cat and unlike a normal bird, not that normals raven regularly attack people, the large bird continues to jab at the man's face.
Taking the bottle off the gun, Alicia instead opts to move forward and try and pistol whip the young man in the back of the head. She puts enough mmph into it, her arm moving like a quick blur.
The double assault takes its toll, forming into utter chaos. Finds-Stories' beak stabs and jabs, finally piercing through and opening a thin wound along the human's cheek. Blam! Another bullet is shot, and this time it connects with frightening assault on the raven, passing cleanly through her left wing. Right after, Alicia's gun comes down hard on the back of Cowboy's exposed head and sends him kissing concrete, but he's not put out so quickly. The injury leaves him stunned, though not unconscious.
Finds-Stories squawks rather noisily and awkwardly leaves the man's head. Making a less then dignified landing on the dirty alleyway floor. Shaking out her feathers, the black bird hops toward the dumpster and out of the way. Dragging her left wing as she does so and voiceing what can only be called avian obsenities.
The gun the young man was holding is kicked away quickly by Alicia as she kneels down ontop of him, pinning his shoulders with her knees. She puts the muzzle of her gun up against the back of his head and whispers.. 'Bang'. "Dude. You got your ass kicked by a bird. Your street cred is pretty much toast at this time, so.. lemmie ask you something." Her grip is tight against him. "Did you hit my sister?"
Cowboy groans out, the heavy kick from Alicia's boot knocking away the grip on his handgun, sending the weapon sliding into the dark. The hat lies upside down somewhere, likely in a wet pile of Nasty. With the gun to the back of his head, he goes quiet, breathing tense and hard. He doesn't answer the galliard immediately.
Finds-Stories continues tor gurge and makes various noises from the back of the dumpster, less then pleased, but keeping well out of the way.
Clickity clack. "Cowboy... I asked you a question." She says softly into his ear as she presses the gun harder, to the point it hurts the already bruised spot from where she smacked him. "Now, you can answer it, or I'll blow your head off right here in the alley and no one will know the better. Then, I'm going to start killing every single one of your crew members, one by one.. every last fucker who puts his dick in some young girl."
"Ow," Cowboy winces as the growing bruise is pressed against, but he bites back a curse. "Yer crazy," he hisses off, but his nerve is failing him. Another press of the cold metal on his head makes him shudder as he admits, "Ok Ok! I slapped her. Once! Fuck, I didn't hurt her!"
"You think it was right of you to slap her?" Alicia asks. "You think that its cool to beat on girls and make them feel worthless, especially after knocking them up?" Her voice whispers quietly into your ear. "Remember how you said I went Vanilla? Boy.. were you wrong. I got a few good friends who have their eyes on you. One of them is a cop, the other practically runs a mafia here in St Claire's. You are on limited breathing time big boy. If I were you.. I'd clean up your act, quick, stop fucking around and get off the streets, or I'm ganna become a real big pimp, and make you my bitch, for a good long time. You got that?"
Cowboy winces again, hurting from the weight being pressed against his shoulderblades. He doesn't answer her again, perhaps getting his breathing time in while he still has some. His eyes are kept down, away from Alicia's as much as possible.
With that odd hopping gate that is the trademark of all ravens, Finds half-waddles out from behind the dumpster, no-longer draging one wing. Black beady eyes are emotionless, as she makes her way to the prone coyboy. Grrrrup, the bird voices, heavy beak poking lightly at the man's face and the wound she caused eariler.
Glancing at the bird, Alicia can't help but grin. "In fact.. to teach you a lesson in manners.." She grabs his head, jerking it upwards, letting his face stare straight back at the raven's. She keeps the gun pressed to his head, shifting her weight, using her other hand to grab the side of his face, trying to pry his eye open. "Supper time birdy."
"Fuckin' Shit!" A cry of pain comes from the guy again as he's roughed up by a bird's beak, of all things. When Alicia forces his eye open, he suddenly bucks hard, trying to break himself free of the galliard's weight, come hell or gunfire. With the burst of sudden awkward movement, Alicia is forced to slide off for a couple of seconds, and Cowboy is soon struggling to get up to his feet yet again.
Crrumvk, goes the bird as it flaps its wings and hops backward about a foot as the man flails around.
Soon as she slides back, a quick, strong hand grabs the man by the back of the shirt, trying to yank him backwards. Alicia growls quietly in her throat as she pokes the gun hard into his ribs. "Stop. So help me God I will kill you instead." She says, trying to kick his feet out so he lands once more.
Yanked back, and thrown off balance, Cowboy doesn't need much more persuasion to sit down. Likely, he's going to have a sore ass after as well if he can get out this. "Yer fuckin' CRAZY!" he yells right into Alicia's face, his toughness taken over by the prickling of the Curse, as well as the fact that he's got a gun muzzle stuck to his ribs. Eyes wide, almost pleading for her Not to kill him, Cowboy shuts up afterwards and works his jaw. The words don't come out like he wants, but a strangled whimper does.
Finds-Stories bobs up and down, cawing loudly in what almost sounds like laughter.
Cowboy's eyes jerk over to the laughing raven, then back to Alicia. There's little he can do about the humiliation, as previously noted.
"I'm not crazy, just a real big fucking bitch." Alicia says as she throws him back down on the ground, planting a strong boot into the side of his head. She glances at the raven after a moment, grinding her heel into his skull some, the gun still pointed down.
Finds-Stories's ruff feathers flair out, giving her a jagged mane of black as she lowers her head and hisses at the man on the ground.
The shoe connects and down goes Cowboy again, crying out again and then having his head stepped on. His hands come up to try and grab at the galliard's leg, but he doesn't try particularly hard to pull her off. In the back of his mind, he must be thinking that he's really going to die. He shuts his eyes, literally on the verge of crying and trying not to.
Alicia wets her lips a bit as she watches him, her eyes narrowed, then lets out a huff. Taking her foot off his head and jerking her leg away, she slips the gun back into her belt and clicks the safety on. "Remember what I said Cowboy, clean up your shit. I'll be in touch." She heads to the other side of the alley and picks up his gun, dropping the magazine out of the clip and then throws it upwards onto the rooftop.
The gun lands up on the roof with a short clatter, while Cowboy remains curled up in fetal position. Pathetically.
Finds-Stories rrrrrs softly, then spreads her wings. A few flaps carry her over to the prone man, where she lands on his head. That wickedy sharp beak picks almost delicatly at the man's left eyelid, the implied threat is hard to miss. With a chortling vocalization, the bird is back in the air again before the poor fellow can react. It doesn't take the corax long to get the roof, then out of view.
The form of Alicia makes her way out of the alley, humming something to herself. The ice cream man song? Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro?
Cowboy starts with the peck, a broken tightrope that is his nerve hanging loose in the wind, figuratively speaking. He doesn't dare move or uncurl until the galliard is a decent distance away, at which point he manages to pick himself off the floor, and drag his sorry ass towards the Other end of the alley, where it opens up to the street one block up. Up on the roof, the gun lies just a couple of feet from the edge, magazine-less.
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