[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi5hY2FjZWYuUTJ4aGJtTjVJRkJoZEhKcFkycy4x/burn-out-fade-away.regular.webp[/img]
[code]Old, Burning Church[/code]
[hr]

"GET YOUR RIFLE!" 

Clancy continued to slowly backpedal, silently observing as the SWAT who'd made the mistake of trying to put hands on him began scrabbling for the weapon that had been so easily taken away from him.

"..handle him, Mr. Champion."

One of others was looking at [i]him[/i], and judging by the subtle bobbing of their throat, they were talking to their colleagues. There was a certain familiarity about that one - he wasn't sure if they were one of the same cops that had run into Judas the night before.

What he [i]was[/i] sure of was that they were about to [i]walk[/i] into him: Maximilian was apprpaching him at an almost flippant pace. 

[b]"Do [i]not[/i] try me,"[/b] Clancy growled, posture arched like a wildcat poised to swipe. There was an anger building in his voice, an erosion of the careful self-control he'd erected in his mind as he backed away, [b]"Or I bre-"[/b]

A wave of what he [i]guessed[/i] was heat washed over the both of them, followed by a blinding light as [i]something[/i] erupted skywards and set the ceiling alight. 

Clancy himself was briefly dazzled by the intensity of it, backpedalling into then ducking under the nearest pew, seizing the opportunity that had been made to lose the SWAT uniforms on his fail. Black smoke mingled with that of the tear gas, forming a noxious, potent miasma that nonetheless did [i]nothing[/i] but prod at his senses. He could hear the panicked noises of the others, coughing and spluttering, while the uniforms shifted their priority to hauling out the second-hand smokers.

Smoke inhalation wasn't a problem for him, but the fire... was an [i]annoyance[/i] that would slow him down. Luckily, the smoke billowing downwards offered him a shroud, and the drum of heavy bootsteps in the direction of the exit gave him [i]some[/i] indication they had or were almost wholly evacuating the church, and that itself gave him the impetus to [i]withdraw[/i]. Creeping outwards, an oily black layer sheathing his features, Clancy crept under the remaining pews, near the center of the building, he pulled his form closer to the edges of the building until he found a beam he could scale, ascended to and with little more thought he thrust a limb through one of the dust-caked windows at the far end of the room, picking away at the dangling shards of glass until there was an opening wide enough for him to make an exit. It took a moment for his vision to adjust as the daylight glared down upon him; pulling back the shadow, he almost forgot to pull his [i]new[/i] clothes in a little and stop them from snagging on the broken glass, pointing inwards like shark's teeth as he crawled out of the maw of the inferno.

He came out onto an old slate rooftop, sun beating upon it, and tucked himself as far into a crevice as he could. Over the sound of crackling flames, he could hear a familiar set of voices, and some unfamiliar.

".. see what happens to you! I won’t kill you! But I’ll fucking make you wish I did! Now, who here can tell me which one of you killed Agent Mahendra…” 

The voice wasn't one he recognised, but he could follow along enough that she was furious about something. Peeking over the lip of the roof from the alcove he'd found, he saw 

Mahendra wasn't a name that rang a bell, but he wagered - and won that wager - he was yet another [i]local[/i] caught up in the murders that had taken Ashley from them.

Clancy watched, waited, listened. They were agents, [i]federal[/i] or otherwise, which validated his suspicions. The 'PRA' was something that felt as though it [i]should[/i] be familiar, at a base level, but he couldn't relate it to anything he'd really known. It answered one question; they weren't directly here for him, and had most likely stumbled upon him by accident in the process of tracking down the cult that had formed around Ashley's social circle in her younger days. That wasn't to say he was wholly relieved, they had [i]seen[/i] him and recognised a part of his nature. It was another potential annoyance that he would have to deal with along the road, so he kept himself concealed and continued to observe until they were at the point of withdrawal.

For a moment, he [i]considered[/i] whether it would be easier to take them unawares, and hamstring them while their backs were to him. [I]No.[/i] It was too much effort, time and psychological energy to commit for little return, and among their number he recognised [i]power[/i] that made it more than just a matter of breaking arms, kneecaps and causing other debilitating-but-survivable injuries. To consider it at this moment broke too many barriers he'd set for himself. So instead, he let them walk away, now with [i]one[/i] of the group in their custody. He didn't know her, and only barely recognised her as one of several who had recklessly thrown themselves in front of the bikers in the same way that had gotten the girl - [i]Alizee[/i] - killed.

Eventually, the smoke had billowed up hard enough that he wagered it wouldn't be too long before the roof of the church gave out, and he didn't [i]feel[/i] like picking himself out of soot-caked rubble, clothes ruined, and go through the tedious exercise that was stalking half-naked through the woods, searching for clothimg and sustenance. Too many possibilities of being stopped by do-gooders who knew nothing of him or the time they would waste, too many questions and obstacles it would throw up. It was a road [i]well[/i] travelled, and one which he did not wish to revisit. Besides, the people he'd tracked- Ashley's friends, acquaintances and [i]otherwise[/i] - were all here, and he hadn't yet tied up loose ends with them, given their conversation had been [i]rudely[/i] interrupted by the federals.

Instead, he slipped down, hitting the dirt with a hard hud as his shoes bore the brunt of the impact. The ground cover was poorer here, but he used what sections of overgrowth he could to slip away, out of sight, watching from the treeline. It was easy enough to scale the trees, and no more difficult to vault between them when one had as much practice and [i]verticality[/i] as he had. They were licking their wounds, angry, hurtful at each other.

Two stood out, the pair who'd been close to blows earlier. [color=F08080]“... glad Father Wolf took Jinhai from you, you deserve as much.”[/color]

There was something [i]especially[/i] low about that. Judy's name was the first that came to mind, even though it wasn't murder that had taken [i]her[/i], it cut deep. His sister, and then her-... [i]Ashley[/i]. Who [i]had[/i] been murdered, and taken from hom like everyone and everything else.

Clancy's fingers tightened just a little, until one of the branches he'd been holding onto broke in half under the pressure, reduced to splinters. Quickly, he adjusted his grip to avoid falling, but he realised being [i]here[/i], talking to people, dealing with their problems... was [i]tiresome[/i] in a way he couldn't physically quantify. He'd spent so long alone, on his own terms, it was difficult to adjust to [i]this[/i] again.

More time passed. The federals packed up and left, leaving the remaining stragglers to lick their wounds. Clancy followed one of the breakaway groups comprising Jasper, Luca, Lila, Lynn, moving across the treeline and through sections of tall grass, keeping enough distance so he wouldn't draw their attention, eavesdropping on the conversation.

[color=98FB98]".. have the Halloween festival coming up in a week, what if we all went to that together? Did a..”[/color]

Clancy could make an educated guess on what they might do.

[color=F08080]“Group costume?”[/color]

He made a sound of disapproval, audible only to the bugs in the treebark.

[color=98FB98]”Group costume."[/color]

They didn't know him, and given the recent display, he wasn't a hundred percent confident he would get what he needed right now. He was [i]sure[/i] he'd seen enough to recognise most of them now and that things were even more complicted than they had been, but not enough to have a full picture. [I]This[/i] group were filing into their car, and in the distance, Clancy caught the approaching wail of sirens that had rung out the previous night.

[I]The church, remember?[/i]

It wouldn't have helped anyone for him to linger here. As the others drove away, Clancy set off deeper into the overgrowth.

[hr]
[code]Motel[/code]
[hider=Ambience][youtube]https://youtu.be/9YbQEEU2Boo?si=uOekXVD1SoFHGULw[/youtube][/hider]
[hr]

Moonlight hung over them. The signage of the motel was only just lit, the lettering sat under a flickering, ephemeral glow from lamp bulbs that probably hadn't been replaced for years and were on their way out. By all means, it wasn't the worst place he'd been to - there were much [i]worse[/i] places to stay back home and along the Midwest. The building was relatively clean, although judging by the lighting and other signs of wear and tear, there probably wasn't a lot in the budget.

Clancy took a brief detour before returning to the room that his [i]host[/i] had generously planned and paid upfront for almost a week. Stepping into the reception area, he quietly leaned over towards the rack of tourist pamphlets and perused through the contents. A few [i]homely[/i] offerings, like bake-sales, markets and charity vents. A regional band on tour at some local bars. And the [i]Halloween Festival.[/i] This seemed go be the crown jewel as far as he could tell, and had been the talk of the others earlier. If he wanted to catch most of them again, it was a measurable chance.

"Little late to be out, you alright son?" The night manager's withered voice almost made him pivot, but he kept his composure, [b]"Yeah,"[/b] he answered, not turning to face the old man, [b]"Just grabbing something for my dad."[/b] He discreetly wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, a dark wine-stain smear coming away. Clancy took that as a cue to make an exit, extracting himself from the office and pacing back towards the motel room, making sure that he wasn't being followed or watched.

They hadn't asked any further questions, but he'd sensed a degree of skepticism. 
For good measure, he adjusted the [i]Please Do Not Disturb[/i] sign hung over the door, before unlocking and stepping into a room kept alive by the dull, buzzing glow of a late-00s TV holding both darkness and silence at bay with late-night television.

[i]First priority, clean up.[/i]

Clancy slapped the pamphlet on the nightstamp, unslung and dumped the dufflebag on the bed with a hefty thud, then made his way to the bathroom, a cramped box contained at the back of the room in a space just large enough to contain a toilet, sink and bath-shower combo. 

He was conscious that, although it didn't particular [i]bother[/i] him, the lingering presence of soot and tear gas threatened to be a [i]literal[/i] eyesore for anyone who came near him. A scruffy kid caught attention, and the night manager had almost proven that. Peeling away the partially soiled clothing, Clancy ran the faucet of the sink and dumped the clothes inside to soak for a few hours, then proceeded to do the same for the shower, stepping under the water so that the layers of [i]contaminant[/i] that clung to his form would wash away.

Hot or cold, it didn't really matter. The water could've been from a frozen river and it wouldn't have made a difference to him, this was just [i]yet another[/i] opportunity to clean up, look somewhat presentable to strangers. Soot, dirt and a half-congealed wine-stain ichor sloughed off him, forming a receding dark circle over the floor of the tub as it disappeared into the drain. After what might've been an hour of staring at the tiles, he stopped the water, stepped back in front of the sink and began to wring through his clothes, working to scrub off the dirt with his hands.

In the mirror, he saw a face that felt more like a memory than a self. Once, out in the wilderness, he'd been spared that face, only forced to look in the reflections of lakes and streams, or cars parked in clearings. A thin speck of crimson remained smeared across the corner of his mouth, the shower having failed to dislodge it previously - he scrubbed [i]that[/i] away with equal fervor.

[i]Clothes.[/i] He turned his attention back to the murky pool that had formed in the sink.

It would have to do. He grabbed the soaked bundle of clothes, stepped back into the room and dumped them on a rack by the heater, leaving them to dry overnight. Wet clothes were likely to ask close to as many questions as they were when dirty. Once that was done, he went back to grab a towel and extract whatever moisture still clung to him, so it didn't track across the floor.

In the process of retreating to the bed, he felt his foot catch against something soft and heavy that had been haphazardly stowed under the bed; a large suitcase that had belonged to his host, positioned to avoid grabbing the attention of anyone who tried peering into the room. Clancy had neglected to take care of [i]that[/i] particular matter, given the last twenty-four hours of events, but it would need to be done or there would be more questions asked that he didn't have time to deal with. Off to one side was a pizza box, darkened through with grease, the contents uneaten and soon-to-be moldering on the table. He made a mental note to dispose of that, too.

[I]Second priority. Think.[/i]

He sat in the bed, drew his bare knees to his chest the closed his eyes. [i]Nothing.[/i] it was pointless to [i]emylate[/i] sleep, and he'd forgotten what dreams were. Even the quiet hours could be monotonous, dragging on, and his thoughts then drifted to other matters. Going on a walk in the night only encouraged those thoughts, and he didn't want to be reminded of how hungry he'd been, and how a core part of him still was, despite the [i]wild game[/i] offering subsistence an hour ago.

[i]Focus.[/i]

There was a week before the Halloween Festival, and Clancy had questions which needed answering. There had been a lot to digest, figuratively. Bikers. Federals. Ashley's 'friends'. [I]Other things[/i] lurking out there, and in the midst of it all, [i]Father Wolf.[/i]