[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi5hY2FjZWYuUTJ4aGJtTjVJRkJoZEhKcFkycy4x/burn-out-fade-away.regular.webp[/img]
[@Punished GN][@Fernstone][@Estylwen][@AtomicEmperor]
[code]Veni Vedi Veni - Parking Lot[/code]
[hr]

His effort with the beer can had been a waste, and his argument had mostly fell on deaf ears. Clancy could see the girl wasn't in a position to reason, and he could see.... [i]emerald light[/i], flickering and swelling at the periphery of his vision. It was [i]blinding[/i], and he felt the strength of it close him like a fire licking at his clothes. 

His feet moved on their own, almost autonomous - Clancy circling to what he'd felt was a safer distance somewhere a little more shaded as Stormy, Sully and Alizee briefly tussled on the street. It was only when he looked back he saw the girl was spent, all-but-broken, and for a moment he felt something that was halfway between contempt and [i]pity[/i]. She lacked self-control, he realised, and that was something which brought on a sense of disconnected self-loathing.


[Hider=anbience][youtube]https://youtu.be/FXHjcHSUv90?si=ZKmyOVLTRsdKG9rU[/youtube][/hider]

Noise shook him out of that notion.

The collective buzz of motorcycle engines, catalysing with a single [i]warning shot.[/i] It had been a while since Clancy had heard that unpleasantly familiar [i]crack[/i] associated with gunfire.

A barely discernible mutter left his mouth.[b]"... warned you."[/b]

If it wasn't for the light, Clancy might've snorted at how moronic the Wolfpack looked. Between the braids, the spiked hair that had been poorly brill-creamed and what he wagered were sores from using, they almost looked like a collection of comic book villains, like the ones he used to read. The only things he'd lacked were named, until he overheard one of the others call out some names. "Valjean, Elodie, Shayton, Cyril, Maggy, Dean, and Victor.... no Judas or Curs." 

Clancy wasn't sure who was who, save that Valjean was probably the spiky asshole barking orders at them. 

For bikers, they seemed characteristically pissed, though he wondered if the commotion at the bar was their only reason for being here, and being ready to hurt people.

"Now, can someone tell me, who the fuck here killed Joe Skinner?! Don't give me any of that 'Aw, we didn't do it, believe us' bullshit! Shit ain't happen until you motherfuckers showed up, thrashing the place! So, you guys have one [i]fucking[/i] minute to decide who the fuck killed a member of our pack before we send all of you to your God!"

[i]Oh. That.[/i]

Clancy had almost considered the matter all-but settled. But things [i]happened[/i], it wasn't like Skinner was aanything but a bad guy. Did it really matter?

Wasn't like he was [i]number one[/i] public enemy here, that went to the girl with a lack of self-control.

And [i]Daddy Wolf[/i] was on the way. Maybe this was his shot at finding Judas? He wasn't sure at this stage; too many unknowns, too many people, in a world where he was [i]very[/i] small. 

Clancy flinched, threw up his hands, inching further off to one side. His attention was [i]really[/i] on the motorcycle off to the far side of the lot. [i]Joe Skinner's[/i] motorcycle, to which the keys were still in his pocket. It was one option, he'd guessed-

“Hey, kid!”

Clancy heard one of the female members of the Wolfpack call him. A sulty woman leaning up against her bike with her arms crossed and a cigarette in her mouth. She gestured for him to come closer with one finger.

“C’mere.”

Shayton turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

Clancy glanced back towards the others, [b]"H-hey, I dunno anything lady, I was just waiting for my dad."[/b] It was probably the most genuine he'd sounded tonight. 

Palms still raised, he apprehensively stepped forward, then-

“Bullshit.” Clancy froze as the woman hissed at him. “Any other kid in your position would be ready to shit themselves, but you?” She quickly drew her pistol and levelled it at him. “You’re agitated. All agitated. That makes zero fuckin’ sense for a kid your age… and I’m new to this magic bullshit, but that means one of two things…” 

She raised two fingers. 

“... You must be some kinda sociopath, or you’re not who you say you are.”

[b]”Or,”[/b] Clancy snorted, squinting at the woman, [b]”Maybe I was taught not to fall over and shit my pants over some [i]losers[/i] replaying the sixties over and over.”[/b] She wasn't wrong. He [i]was[/i] agitated, and not necessarily because of the Wolfpack - though that particular fact was about to change.

“Bull[i]shit,[/i] but you know what…?”

Maggy squinted down the gunsight and tugged back on the trigger. A single muzzle flare erupted, Clancy barely able to let out a whimper before he collapsed like a deck of cards with the center torn out.

There was no blood, no spatter of brain matter or viscera on the floor, simply the sight of a child crumpling to the ground beside a row of parked cars.