[hider=ambience][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpmD92l_6hM[/youtube][/hider] [hr] The pickup moved at pace, two of the boys in their leathers holding onto the bed of the truck for life. One of them, cigarette dangling from his mouth, was grumbling to his companion. "-me why my coffee's going cold on the counter?" The other man, squat with a goatee, spat off to the side and shrugged. "Iunno, Dutch said he got a call some fuckers trashed the Vee-Vee, and messed Joe Skinner up real bad." "That dumbass sack o' shit," the smoker snorted, "Why should we care?" Goatee shrugged, "He's Dutchman's brother." "[I]In-law[/I], or somethin' like," the smoker corrected, "Which counts for shit." "Don't matter Jay, still one of ours, s' the principle, and "Papa" is gonna be piss-.. ah shit, I think that's them." There was already half a riot breaking out on the parking lot, sand, detritus and cordite in the air. The two men held on for life as the driver of the pickup applied the brakes. [hr] [code]Veni Vedi Veni - Parking Lot[/code] [hr] "Oh shit," Goatee chuckled, "Val's already gone Scorpion King on them." They'd arrived in the middle of it all, probably beating any local authority by a good mile. "Sand in my ass for days," Jay coughed as some of the Vasil sister's handiwork blew against the bodywork of their improvised cover, tugging at the .38 under his waistband. They were hunched low, moving between cars, a few rows away from the heart of the chaos. Goatee was keeping an eye on things, trying to dind a window to move in - the kids had the kind of power that some of the club had barely tasted, an expensive [i]gift[/i] that only the lucky ones got to wield at their fingertips. There was a dull thud, barely audible over everything else. "What you reckon?" Goatee asked, but no answer came. The man looked over one shoulder to see his companion crumpled against a car door one row over. "Jay?" Closing the distance, it became clear why Jay wasn't answering. Fluids trailed from one side of what was left of his face, where something had smashed him into the windscreen of the car - a spiderweb of bloody cracks forking out from the corner. The force of the impact had shattered his eyesocket and cheekbone into bloody pulp. Bone and tissue speared through the sleeve of his jacket where the arm had been bent inwards, far beyond what human joints could handle. "What the fugGHAAR-" A tiny foot slammed into the back of Goatee's knee with a strength that didn't belong, hard enough that something [i]popped[/i]. The man dropped to the ground with a yelp before [i]someone[/i] muffled his squawking, tiny fingers clasped around the underside of his jaw, tight as a vice against his throat. Nobody noticed the muffled shriek, blended into the cacophony of noise wreaking havoc across the parking lot. [hr] Sully crept through what must've felt like a mile of sand, shell casings and stale piss to get to where the kid had been dropped. With visibility reduced amidst the thin cloud of sand and shadow, the only thing that stood out were a pair of child-sized sneakers peeking out from behind the tires of a parked car. Sully found it was for nought. There were clear indents in the surrounding gravel and bodywork where Maggie's cartridges had punched past or through their target, but no blood spatter, and save for an empty pair of sneakers, [I]the kid wasn't there.[/i] It wasn't a discovery he had time to question, between the wave of sand and one of the Wolfpack's [i]other[/i] hard-hitters coming up on him fast. A few muffled noises erupted a few cars away, although between the biker putting a gun to his head and the junkie throwing sand everywhere, it was easy to miss. What [i]wasn't[/i] easy to miss was a large, humanoid shape, flung through the air. It bounced off the hood of the car, next to where Dean and Sully were having their conversation, before flopping to the ground with a meaty crunch, between the two men, Not humanoid. [I]Human.[/i] A body, tossed from behind the row of parked cards. It- [i]he[/i] was just barely twitching, limbs contorted at unnatural angles, but it was a foregone conclusion; the poor bastard's lower jaw had been pried open past human limits, until tissues which connected upper to lower had torn under the strain, leaving a gruesome, lopsided expression. The only recognisable feature was a goatee, sticky with blood. A vaguely familiar voice growled with a child's pitch, carrying over the row of parked cars. [h3][b]"... you [i]assholes[/i]..."[/b][/h3] A few moments later, another shrill noise intermingled with the rest; one of the cars parked close to where Victor had been firing on the others began to sound off when [i]something[/i] triggered its alarm. There was a faint, metallic groan, followed by the weight of the car briefly tilting downwards, before it jolted forward at a skid by a few metres - directly into the path of the armed Neo-Pagan with the full tonnage weight bearing down on him. In the empty space it left behind was a familiar child-sized silhouette, barefoot, face shadowed by the poor lighting of the space, with dark sockets that almost appeared [i]hollow.[/i] [hr] [@Punished GN][@silvermist1116][@Estylwen][@Atrophy] [img]https://i.imgur.com/4U0nQCl.png[/img] [hr]