[closed] the law happens so much
WHO: Yato, Ichirou, Shouto, Lucian, Mako, Fynn (as gathered from this post)
WHERE: An alley near Trevelyan Clinic and onward
WHEN: Late June, late afternoon
WHAT: Yato attempts murder. Recolle is like nuh-uh.
WARNINGS: Blood, graphic violence, amputation.
[ Yato has a good memory for faces. Even better, he has a good hand for art. Armed with pencil and paper, he draws a face he still remembers from months ago. He wouldn't forget the face of a man who laid a hand on a friend. Even less the face of a man who would try again to destroy the same friend's life.
It takes time to find a lead, but less than expected. Whenever he makes his presence known among strangers, the portrait in one hand and a sheathed katana in the other, the hapless citizens of Recolle are often too surprised by his sudden appearance to ignore him or shy away. Surprise makes them honest. The clues are in the blankness of their expressions or the guarded flicker of their eyes toward him. Yato gets his answers.
And in time, Yato finds his man.
Late twenties. A construction worker. Tall, bulky, mean. An address. An apartment in disarray. No significant other, no family to speak of. Friends, but none especially good. A gambling habit. A drinking habit. Nothing to suggest upstanding character. It's frighteningly easy for Yato to find these things out now.
In time, he decides there's nothing more he needs to see. He takes up his sword. ]
WHERE: An alley near Trevelyan Clinic and onward
WHEN: Late June, late afternoon
WHAT: Yato attempts murder. Recolle is like nuh-uh.
WARNINGS: Blood, graphic violence, amputation.
[ Yato has a good memory for faces. Even better, he has a good hand for art. Armed with pencil and paper, he draws a face he still remembers from months ago. He wouldn't forget the face of a man who laid a hand on a friend. Even less the face of a man who would try again to destroy the same friend's life.
It takes time to find a lead, but less than expected. Whenever he makes his presence known among strangers, the portrait in one hand and a sheathed katana in the other, the hapless citizens of Recolle are often too surprised by his sudden appearance to ignore him or shy away. Surprise makes them honest. The clues are in the blankness of their expressions or the guarded flicker of their eyes toward him. Yato gets his answers.
And in time, Yato finds his man.
Late twenties. A construction worker. Tall, bulky, mean. An address. An apartment in disarray. No significant other, no family to speak of. Friends, but none especially good. A gambling habit. A drinking habit. Nothing to suggest upstanding character. It's frighteningly easy for Yato to find these things out now.
In time, he decides there's nothing more he needs to see. He takes up his sword. ]
FYNN
He catches his breath and peeks out from the empty trash can he was using as a hiding spot. When it seems like the coast is clear, he smiles a crooked smile in victory. With luck, Yato will never run into that guy again. He steps out of the trash can, digs his sword out after him, and sweeps off the little bits that stick to it.
He’s exhausted after all that running. He’d love nothing more than to go back and find his man, but the guy is probably under medical care by now. And probably will be for a little while yet, but that’s no obstacle to Yato anymore. It will be a simple matter to find out which hospital he’s staying at and stroll into his room.
For now, he…
...
… might have to deal with another cop?
He freezes as another uniform appears. Yato doesn’t recognize this guy. Is he a Retrospeccer? It would be just Yato’s luck. If it’s just a normal clueless cop, his attention will pass through Yato, and Yato will be safe. But if it isn’t… well, Yato still has a little fight in him. He watches the guy for a sign of acknowledgement, stock-still. His still-blue eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun, waiting. ]
no subject
Officer Izunia has been following the entire drama unfold from the safety of his squad car this afternoon. He was just about to get off his shift when the call from dispatch came through. Instead of getting his afternoon macchiato, the officer found himself now in the middle of this chase throughout the city for a young man between 5'7 and 5'9 with jet black hair wielding a Japanese katana. While he certainly has his misgivings about being dragged into trouble so late in his shift, Fynn wasn't about to just pretend he didn't hear the call and just go off the clock.
Though, in the back of his mind, he sort of wish he did just that.]
The frickin' moon must be out for this kind of lunacy to happen.
[He grumbles angrily as he steps out of his car. After locking up the car, the officer took a moment to stretch his limbs before jogging up the block. From last he heard, the man was somewhere by Grove Street and Delancey but the altercation took place near the Trevelyan Clinic in Chata just moments ago. Armed with his service pistol, Fynn somewhat wished he still had Togusa's Mateba from yesterday. This town is going completely batshit and he needs something more than just Standard Issue to take some of these perps down.]
[Fynn turns the next corner by the intersection and comes to a slow halt once he caught a glint of steel. It's then that he spots the youth nearby just staring at him like a chocobo in headlights.]
...Oh shi--!
[Years of training just doesn't prepare you for the real deal. For a hot second, Fynn mind goes blank before suddenly his hands is upon his gun.]
Freeze! Hands up, now!
no subject
Technically, Yato was already in the process of freezing. But now he unfreezes, swinging his sword up into a solid defensive position. A light smear of blood remains in two places along its blade. He hasn't had the chance to properly clean it off. ]
Don't you have a donut to eat or something? Do me a favor and buzz off.
[ Unlike with Ichirou, Yato doesn't even attempt civility. This cop is a stranger, Retrospeccer or not, and probably not too calm about stumbling upon Yato if his curse was any indicator. He might be able to worm his way out of this. ]
no subject
I said don't move! [See, Fynn would've commented on that donut joke if he wasn't fearing for his life right about now. It's bad enough the perpetrator is pointing a sword at him but it's a bloody sword with telltale red smears on it. So guess who's finger is inching closer to the trigger? Yep, it's Fynn's.]
Put the weapon down!
[He's following every damn procedure in the book here but so far this nutcase isn't listening. Is he really going to have to shoot? Is he really going to have to shoot him? This guy looks like a kid to Fynn, like one of those Recolle University students. Can he really pull the damn trigger? This isn't the shooting range, this is real life.
There's a strong chance Fynn is going to have to shoot this guy.]
no subject
Good sense says Yato should call it quits now and put the weapon down, because this cop seems a little too enthusiastic about neutralizing him. Not unreasonably, since the guy can't know that Yato is harmless.
Well. At least Yato thinks he's harmless. He would've been perfectly happy to go back to his everyday hobo things once he was done killing a man. ]
Don't move or put the weapon down? You sound a little indecisive.
[ Either way, Yato is doing neither of those things. He moves suddenly to the side, hoping to evade Fynn's aim and begin an escape. ]
no subject
[Harmless? It's kind of difficult to be viewed as harmless when wielding a Japanese Sword covered in actual blood. If the kid wasn't brandishing a lethal weapon at an officer of the law, then maybe Fynn would be more diplomatic here. Alas, that's not the case and Fynn is twitchy and nervous right now but give him some credit.
He's really trying to remain calm and not escalate this situation further. So work with him, kid! Please work with him and not end this story in a tragedy for the tabloids to pick up. Fynn doesn't want to end up on the news and he doesn't need Internal Affairs up his ass.]
I know what the hell I said! [He does realize how indecisive he sounds but shut up, kid!] Put the weapon down--STOP!
[Before the officed even realizes, he already fired three shots. They come one after the other in rapid session. Fynn doesn't even realized he pulled the trigger until the gun smoke reaches his nose.]
no subject
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Three sharp strikes on the edge of his blade, and six bullet halves whiz by on either side of him. If the police look for those halves later, they'll find them perfectly split down the middle.
He almost can't believe that worked, but there's no time to stop and marvel. Blood pumping, he takes off again in an instant, rounding the corner into an alleyway for cover. If he's lucky, the cop will be too surprised to catch up... ]
no subject
His mind goes completely blank as the memories of a distant past suddenly places him in the middle of a stylish office with great big windows overlooking the chaos transpiring down upon the grand city below. He isn't holding his standard issue pistol but a large military class rifle aiming at what clearly is a dead man. A trickle of red stains the white and grays of this man's uniform and some of the blood got sprayed across the tan sofa as the victim falls to his side. Fynn can scarcely believe his eyes but there he is within some awful memory standing over the body of someone he once knew, someone he once respected.
If it wasn't for the telltale sound of metal clinking against metal, Fynn would've never came back to the present. The officer blinks his eyes in utter bafflement once the sword-wielding youth deflects the bullets with just his sword alone. Uncertain what just happened or even how that's possible, Fynn snaps out of his daze quickly and lowers his gun.]
What's going on around here....?!
[He growls as he chases after the man. While he's not about to let this suspect get away, Fynn honestly can't believe what he just witness. Was that a memory? Was that...something he lived through? And what's the deal with this bogus ass samurai?! Why is this happening?!]
[Now gaining a big more speed, Fynn pockets his firearm and leaps in an attempt to tackle the suspect.]
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no subject
His hands are noticeably shaky at this point but what Yato might not notice is that his finger isn't on the trigger. Fynn really doesn't want to fire again, especially not after that terrible recollection he had a moment ago. He's all but pleading with the suspect to surrender himself at this point. There's geninue fear in those blue eyes.]
Turn around with your hands up!
[Please, man! The jig is up.]
no subject
Still, Yato doesn't want to get taken in. Frozen with his hand still outstretched at the cop's feet, Yato watches him from the corner of his eye. Thinking of the safest way to get in close...
And then he's somewhere else.
He's breathing hard, a beautiful sword in his hands. He scolds it. "The reason I'm so tired is because of you, you know?! Don't be so afraid, Yukine." A woman -- Bishamon, he recognizes her -- appears looking like she just finished a bachelor party gig. Her whip catches him, and he goes flying through the air.
A revolver pointed at him. Two shots, so fast they sound like they're coming from two guns. And somehow, even though she's so far away that her aim should be off, they fly precisely at his arm and his spine. And somehow, even though he's moving so fast that he shouldn't even be able to see the bullets, let alone maneuver himself well enough to deal with them, he brings his beautiful sword around and lets both bullets split along its edge with one swing, smooth as butter.
"... Awesome. I cut the bullets." Yukine's young voice is slow with amazement.
Yato is back at the cop's feet.
Distracted now. How much time has passed? He exhales quietly. He can tell the moment has passed. It's too late to get the jump on anyone now. Slowly, he raises his hands above his head and turns on his heels. He'll go peacefully.
Yukine isn't even here and he's causing trouble for Yato. Figures. ]