Location: Angel Grove Roads & Angel Grove Community Center
Interacting w/: None, though attempting to get to Ross, Vallory, and Sloane.
Clint was regretting his decisions, now on the road to head towards the hardware store. Charlie and Jordan behind him at the diner, he felt guilt about just ditching them both. His breathing was uneasy, the man trying to calm himself with the music on his radio through a bit of an anxiety attack. The loud music rang out of his windows despite them being closed, but that soon came to a halt as a new alert blasted his ears from how loud his radio was. Turning it down a bit with a groan due to the pain in his ears, he irritably listened to the report.
His eyes widened, hearing a description of everything going on. The community center was under attack during an event? Who the hell attacked a community center, terrorists? Wait, the radio continued, and made it clear the attackers had weapons. Not like guns, but... Spears, or something? And they were wearing strange matching armor suits. Clint could put the pieces together, but even the radio news report remarked that this was similar to attacks seen over a decade ago, and this looked like a resurgence!
"You have got to be kidding me..." He voiced in disbelief, eyes narrowing. One name rang in his mind, causing him to grip his steering wheel tightly as he accelerated. The AGYC wasn't far off, he could be there fast. And he'd
get there fast. For the fact that those descriptions marked the same group that had traumatized him in his past. A group he thought was destroyed, at the loss of four wonderful people.
Druidon...
The truck was loud and roaring as it rolled up to the Community Center, skidding to a halt as the large man within it hopped out. It was chaos; People evacuating, screaming. One specific situation caught his eye as a man was tossed out one of the center's windows, landing in a pile of grass and glass. Clint's eyes shot open wide, noticing the culprit and it's appearance. The exact fears he had rang true, and it brought out an almost feral type of fury in Clint's mind, as he ran forward without even a second more of hesitation.
The Drunn Soldier had intended to use his spear to stab at the man from his position on the opposite side of the window, but as he stabbed downwards, he felt his spear full-stop. But the man wasn't skewered, instead scooting backwards fearfully and a large hand being what was holding the spear in place. The soldier looked up, seeing a
very angry man, one that soon turned his body inward towards the spear, leg lifting and shooting straight through the remains of the window, kicking the Drunn Soldier in the face. This sent it flat to the ground, losing grip on it's spear, which was now in Clint's possession.
He glanced back, noting the injured man trying to run off for help. Fleeing was something Clint had no time for, unfortunately. He flipped the spear around, the weapon feeling familiar in his hands. He'd stolen a few of these in his day, though he preferred getting down and dirty with his hands. He used it to clear the broken glass enough to not absolutely fuck up his hands as he propped himself up and inside, figuring it to be a better entrance than the front door. The Drunn Soldier has just got done pulling itself to it's feet, only for Clint to shift his body again, roundhouse kicking it directly back to the floor with a direct impact to it's chest before driving the spear through it's lower, less armored torso.
Unfortunately, this commotion had caught the attention of another, who approached from Clint's left. It seemed to disregard it's spear, instead taking a swing at Clint which was met with his arm swinging up to smack the Drunn Soldier's arm away, the cowboy's boot meeting the soldier's knee causing it to lose it's footing. Taking advantage, Clint grabbed it by both sides of it's dumbass helmet, before driving it face first into the space where the window used to be, the soldier laying there in a daze, at least until Clint delivered a firm boot, sending it out the window, crashing into the glass and grass below.
Having a moment to catch his breath, Clint had to wonder if Jordan or Charlie had any idea about this-- But that instantly ended as he heard something that sounded like a bear, if the bear had a chainsaw for tonsils and it's favorite drink was testosterone.
HrrrrrRAGH!
"That a monster...?" He questioned aloud, realizing it came from outside. If the window hadn't broke, he might've not heard it. He didn't see more soldiers in this area, so he decided to take himself back outside. Yanking the spear out of the first defeated Drunn Soldier before jumping out the window; Landing on his feet on the second Drunn Soldier's chest which caused it's arms and legs to shoot upwards from the shock and pain of being crushed by the man.
Clint was off, and soon found the main venue of the community center's events. Plenty of booths and chaos, he should've figured everything was outside. But where did that growl come from? Scanning the area, he saw too much chaos going on. He was just one man, he couldn't fix everything... He couldn't help but notice some kids dealing with those damn Drunn Soldiers approaching. He would have went to help, but he felt something shove him forwards, turning quickly to see even
more behind him now, a small gang of three cornering him against the backside of one of the booths.
"Shit." He muttered, unsure of how he'd handle three of them at once. He didn't have time to think as they attacked however; The man instantly finding himself in a deep struggle as he attempted to use the spear to block off the thrusts of his opposition, trying to find opportunities to grab at the spears and disarm his opponents but even at that point, they were ganging on him and there were just too many fists flying. Clint was still standing, but he wasn't giving out even a portion of what he was taking: The man getting pummeled on his feet as he was still just a guy. A tough guy, but a guy. He might've fought them at one point, but no matter his experience he wasn't much competition without actually being a Ranger.
His struggle continued, probably out of sight of those youths that he was using as motivation to not just kneel down from the pain of all this pummeling.
Dark Cloud
Digizel
Izurich
