[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/KGaNqAC.png[/img][/center]

[hr][center]
[h1][color=Gold]Marcus Weston[/color][/h1]
[/center][hr]

Like that, once the two had emerged from his vehicle, things went sideways, before they had had a chance to talk to anyone, besides greetings, they were met with the sound of screaching tires as a truck - the same truck Marcus had seen Landin in, be flipped upside down. A fight had started, Marcus and Gareth had arrived to warn the convoy, so, here they were. Holding his side, Marcus nodded for Gareth to try and get behind cover - Gar had done more than enough already. Finishing the last swig of alcohol from the bottle in his hand, Marcus eyes lit up with a emerald light for a moment as he launched the bottle a impressive 150 meters, the bottle hitting a biker with a sawed of shotgon so hard in the face that he was knocked unconscious. Ducking under gunfire, Marcus reached for the gun he carried on his back, in his belt. Usually a holster was placed on his shoulder - but he had gotten sloppy lately. Getting out the gun, he rolled out from cover, aiming the gun at one of the hillbilly's shoulders.

Pulling the trigger, he was met with a unsatisfied 'click' noise. "What th- Oh." Marcus mumbled to himself, realizing he hadn't replaced the magazine in the gun with a new clip - he was out of ammo. Having seen his eyes light up, two bikers rushed at him, armed with tazers and crowbars. Marcus had gotten beaten enough for today.

Twirling the hold of the gun - the finger on the trigger the gun spun around in his hand, letting him get a firm grip on the barrel of the 1911 Colt. The biker swung at Marcus with the crowbar - dodging by crouching, he hit the man in the back of the knee with the gun, using the grip as a weapon. The second biker came, tazer coming at him. Marcus quickly disarmed him by smacking the grip of the gun against his wrist - hard enough to send out the sound of cracking bones. The biker cried out in pain, but was quickly silenced by Marcus hitting him right in the head, knocking him out cold.

The first biker came at him, having recovered his balance since the hype's first attack. "Filthy fucking Hype!" The biker shouted, swinging at Marcus again. He dodged, put his shoulder towards the man and rolled the man over his back, sending the heavier biker to the ground with a loud thud, as Marcus came down onto his chest, knee first, holding him in place - the barrel of his gun between the biker's teeth. Seeing the sudden look of terror in the man's eyes, Marcus quickly hit him upon the jaw, knocking him out. Getting of the biker, he sat down in the sand, his heart pounding.

Looking to the side, he saw another man approaching a hype with a shotgun - the gun fired, buckshot piercing the air. In a green wave, the pieces of lead all clogged together, turning into one sphere, levitating in the air, a few inches from the chest of target. Changing the gravitational direction on the ball of lead, Marcus sent it right back at the shooter, hitting him in the face. His powers were lacking the exact nature of a telekinetic, but they had many applications.

Marcus cravled onto his hand and feet, dashing behind cover when more gunfire erupted. Hiding behind a vehicle that was not his own, he clutched his gun. His instincts might have dulled, but they weren't gone. He still kept track of the entire battlefield, he knew what was happening. In the back of his head. His subconscious recognized several of the people on the Hype-side, either because they attended PRCU, or because he had kept track of them himself. Yet, his concious mind was making no real connections, the only one he for certain knew was Gareth, and he had no clue what Corrigan's powers were.

[i]Remember to talk more on the next roadtrip.[/i]