[i][b]June 20, 2018
A Small fuel station in the middle of nowhere[/b][/i]

Henry sat on the bonnet of his Plymouth Barracuda. The car was his prized possession, he had spent just about every paycheck he had gotten repairing the old thing and when it was finally done he had almost nowhere to go. That is until the whole mess in Cleveland started up. Silver linings as they say. His head turned with the jingle of bells as a young guy probably in his late teens came out with a receipt, three packets of cigarettes and a can of coke. Henry couldn't have gone into that station, not in this heat, he'd sweat himself to death before he burned to it. He nodded to the boy before staring up into the sky. He'd always thought cowboys hats were stupid, he realized now that a makeshift fan with a wide brim to keep the sun out of his eyes was just about the smartest invention known to man. Or so he thought under his hot stupor. He got in his car and began his long journey over to Cleveland.

[i][b]June 21, 2018
Doyles apartment for the time being[/b][/i]
Henry twisted the door handle and let himself into the apartment the Court had assigned to him. Say what you will about the Court of the Arcane, but they did care for you if you were on a mission. If you weren't, however they'd probably tell you to bugger off and find a nice cardboard box to live in for the night. The apartment was spacious enough, but was also rather baron. The walls were an off white and there were little to no decorations around the apartment, save for a few ornaments and clocks here and there. Henry set down a box he had been carrying under his arm on the table and took the cigarette from his mouth before dropping it into the small bin that sat in the corner of his kitchen/living room. He hoped that Cleveland would be more exciting than his apartment.

[i][b]June 22, 2018
Beachwood Place Mall[/b][/i]
Harry sat just outside the mall on a wooden bench, smoking a cigarette and pondering life. Well, not life really, he was actually wondering why Americans called a shopping centre a mall and why Britons called a mall a shopping centre. At what point did the translation change? He pondered. If he cared enough he'd probably have looked it up on his phone, but alas he didn't. He flicked his cigarette into a nearby bin before making his way into the mall. 

He took a quick tour around the mall, checking any stores he saw that were of interest on his route. Nothing was really all that interesting, but he did have a bit of fun testing out an RC car in a gadget shop, he'd always wanted one of them as a kid, but realized now as an adult that he would have probably gotten bored of it after about five minutes of playing with it. Stunned at the lack of interesting shops, Harry settled on purchasing what he thought was food, but realized after receiving it that it looked more like what would happen if you put raw fat through a grinder. And, the patron selling it had the cheek to call it a [i]'quality hot-dog'[/i]. Harry sat down on a stylized marble bench before action kicked off. Some flash mob or something began shouting and yelling and throwing shit around. Harry's anger stemmed more from the fact that something in the vein of this always had to happen during his free time, never when he was working rather than the fact that they were committing an actual crime. He pushed himself up from his seat and readied a fighting stance. He had to be smart about this, using fire wasn't an option, it could end up in him hitting a civilian or burning down the mall itself. He'd have to do this the hard way. 

Harry swung at one of the clones, catching him by the neck and sending him tumbling to the ground. This seemed to have caught the clone and the rest by surprise as many in the surrounding area of Harry turned and began at least considering attacking him. A bottle quickly flew in an arc towards Harry which he blocked by casting a small force field around his wrist and swiping the bottle away. 
"Are you lot going to just stand there and throw shit at me or are we going to have a fucken fight?" He asked, almost at yelling volume. His question was answered when one of the clones threw a punch at Harry's face, catching him by surprise and sending him stumbling backwards into the wall behind him. Harry grinned, at least it would be a fight. A rift quickly opened behind the small crowd of clones trapping Harry against the wall. Harry fell through a rift opening behind him and appeared through the rift behind the group. He flew at them, sending a flurry of punches into their backs whilst dodging any clumsy swings sent backwards towards him. He ducked under a punch sent his way and quickly shot his arm upwards like a bullet towards the elbow that threw it, breaking the clones arm. He grabbed the broken arm and swung the clone into two others, sending them falling into a bin. Harry quickly turned and sent a haymaker to the face of another clone, breaking its nose and taking it out of the fight. One of the clones came from behind Harry and sent a punch square in his back, causing Harry to yell out in pain. He growled under his breath, turning and sending a jab straight to the stomach of the clone that threw the punch before ramming his knee into its jaw. The final clone he took out by simply sending a swift kick straight up into his....more sensitive regions before throwing him against the hard wall. Seven down, a lot more to go.