Riding Down the East Coast

Discussion in 'ONE ON ONES IN CHARACTER' started by The Mood is Write, Aug 19, 2016.

  1. Previously, in this story... (This RP's previous formatting is not pretty to read, as it took place in skype while shooting the breeze)

    Mike grinned at Bruce's offer to join him investing that darkened gas station. "Thanks." He offered a quick wink and nod to Maggie as he circled around to the back of the car, stuck his keys in the hole, and opened the trunk.
    There she was.

    He smiled as he reached in and pulled out the silver case, then stroked it once before he closed the lid, then carried the case in his hands as he approached the door and took a deep breath. "Lil nervous." He admitted to the other man before he stared at the big glass door, then leaned against it as one hand cast a shadow to see through.
  2. The big man followed after him, his bare feet crunching on the pieces of asphalt and concrete that had come up over the years. On alert, his weight shifted forward to his toes, adding height to the 6’3” man. He cupped his hands and looked in the window as well, but in a different spot then Mike had.

    “You and that case, man.” He glanced to Mike, before turning his attention fully back to the window in front of him.

    Maggie locked the front doors too, a trace of fear edging into her consciousness as she settled back into the back seat, pulling her legs up to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her knees, holding them tightly as she watched the two walk away. She didn’t like being left alone, not after what happened, but in a way, the car was safer then being out there with them, if something bad really had happened to Mike’s friend. She still needed to come up with a way to pay the man back, but he didn’t seem interested in the most obvious thing she had to offer.
  3. Mike squinted. "I think I see something." He glanced at his companion. "One of the friends that worked here's a werewolf. Lived in the woods out back." He sighed and lowered his voice. "Please don't be shot, Guy..." He tested the door, and it came open easily.

    Sign one.

    Carefully, he moved inside, case held tight. 24 hour gas stations didn't just... stop. Not with the big sign still lit up. Not with the door unlocked. Not without being boarded up and stripped.

    His foot touched something, and he looked down. In the dark, he made out the sliver of reflected light on the edge on the edge of the glass.

    Sign two.

    He pushed the broken glass aside. "Watch your feet. There's broken glass." His feet stuck, but it wasn't the sort of stick of half-dried blood... plus, he didn't smell any of that, anyway. He smelled... cherry, cola, and other slurpee flavors. He hurried to the counter and grabbed a lighter, then held it aloft as he lit it.
  4. Of all things he had left behind, Bruce missed his flashlight most in that moment. His ears perked up slightly as he pulled back from the window to look at Mike, who had tested the door. The fact it swung up worried him, and the hairs prickled on the back of his neck in warning. “Fuckin’ hell, man…”

    The warning was appreciated, though, as he carefully stepped on and around the glass scattered around on the floor. Thick soles did wonders, as did minimal amounts of his foot being pressed to the ground. Unfortunately, that did mean any glass that did make it in was driven deeper into his skin by his sheer weight. The lights from outside, though minimal in here, allowed his eyes a tiny amount of glow. It wasn’t much, but his nose also told him the stickiness was nothing more then sweet soda syrup. He looked to Mike as he lit the lighter. That… wasn’t really going to help here. At least, that was his thought. “Soda, it smells like… Not smelling any blood, though…”
  5. "That's a relief." Mike looked around, then tossed the lighter aside and looked for a flashlight. He knew where they were, but... none felt heavy enough to have batteries in them. He began to tear one's package open, then proceeded to steal some batteries and turned it on. He shone it around the gas station.

    Knocked-over shelves leaned against walls, and the counter had deep claw marks in the bullet-proof shielding. Mike hurried forward and looked past it. "Hello?" He called. "Anyone back there? "
  6. "Uh... Mike? You said your buddy was a werewolf?" His eyes were on the deep claw marks that he had seen seconds ago thanks to the flashlight's beam. Something didn't sit right about this, about all this damage. And still, Mike pushed on. He stepped carefully, almost silent as he followed after the man that had more then saved his hide. "What're the chances he's had a run in with whatever had its grip on me?"

    Maggie sat in the car, rocking nervously as she looked around. Her eyes went to the gas station, where lights flicked about suddenly. Did Mike have a flashlight? She didn't know.
  7. Mike shone the light down behind the counter. "Yeah, he is. Chances are he has, too. I can bring him out if I can find him before someone shoots him." He peered behind and then grinned. "Well, I see people. They aren't bloody or corpse-like. Maybe asleep." The young man knocked on the window.

    Behind it, a woman jerked and looked up. She had long, straight black hair and Chinese features, and stared for a few moments in horror before Mike shone his flashlight at his own face.

    "Hey, hey. Just Mike. You ok back there?"

    "No. My brother, he had an attack like the first time, but the thing you told me to use didn't work!" She shivered, then paused. "Was the door open when you got here?"

    "No." He blinked. "Your brother's still in here, isn't he?"

    "Mhm. Somewhere."

    Mike bit his lip. "Well. He's probably going to show up behind me or my friend any moment now because that's just how this works." He sighed heavily.
  8. "..." Slowly, Bruce turned and pricked up in attention as something moved in the storage room in the back of the gas station. His lips rose to show teeth, and he gave a low, feral growl. The noise was returned to him, not as an echo, but as an other. Claws scraped against linoleum and it sounded like a box fell over. Bruce glanced at the man he was essentially body guarding at this point. "Mike... I think we got a prob-"

    Before he even had a chance to finish the sentence, a feral, guttural voice crawled from the back room. "Meat. Feed."

    Bruce was aware of two things in that moment. One, he was outmatched at the moment, especially if that man was still in his wolf form. Two? This was going to hurt. A lot. The man snarled again, his skin already beginning to itch and sting. His own wolf growled at the intrusion, at the trespasser. Which was strange, given this wasn't even his territory... But the wolf knew something he didn't, and he had no way to find out what, exactly, it was.
  9. "Pin him!" Mike called as he looked back over the counter. "Still have those chains?"

    "Not here!" The Asian glared. "Why would they be at the gas station!?"

    "Because you work the night shift!" He huffed, then shook his head and looked around, then hurried out of sight, where he opened his case and pulled out two things, then closed it quickly. A brief scent of nature came from his corner as he hurried back out, whistle in hand before he remembered one of his allies was a wolf, and he shouldn't DO that. The other thing he held wasn't much better, since it invaded a lycan's sense of smell and disabled them. He covered the small screen at the top to keep the scent under control. "I can't really help until you pin him!"

    Mike was lying, though—already, he sent his senses out toward the feral werewolf to urge him to want to return to his humanity.
  10. "You want me to WHAT?!" Bruce snarled out, and the werewolf in question turned his attention to the big man, stalking toward him. Bruce knew this feeling. Take out the biggest threat... And somehow, possibly by scent or his sheer size, he represented the biggest threat. Bruce returned his gaze to the werewolf, sizing it up. It had a limp, though it was subtle. Probably hurt itself while running around the station. Pin. Subdue. Got it. He let go, and the transformation, as painful as it was, began in earnest. Bones snapped and cracked, and it left him vulnerable.

    The other werewolf didn't wait. It lunged, striking Bruce off balance, even as he screamed in pain. A thick arm, contorted and twisted with the transformation, came up to block the bite of the beast, and Bruce snarled. This thing dared to challenge him for supremacy? Fuck. That. Bruce pulled back the reins some, if only to be on even footing with his own inner wolf. Something was wrong with the other wolf's eyes, and instinct had him slash out with his other arm, growling as the other shook its head and pulled back.

    Bruce was a big boy in his werewolf form, towering over the other some before the upper weight shifted him into a hunched over posture. The two circled each other, and it was the other one who attacked first. He charged and Bruce ducked with a growl, sending the other tumbling over his back. He quickly turned and sliced out. It was then he noticed that the other was struggling, holding his head. "Feed... Meat... Pain..."

    "Whatever yer doin', keep doin'." It was gravely and low, his voice, but it was clear and not stilted like it had been before when he had been possessed. And it was directed at Mike. After he spoke, he lunged for the other and slammed him to the floor, driving air from the other were's lungs and positioning his body just right to keep it from thrashing. He snarled. "Yield."

    The other snarled and Bruce returned the sentiment, curling his long claws into a loose fist before he socked the man in the jaw. "Yield!"

    The attendant went still, glaring up at Bruce. Bruce could feel the smaller one trembling some, as if wanting to fight but not able to.
  11. Mike only grunted. He wrapped his hands around the figurative ties he held to the man, ties that held him close to humanity. The tie to sister, to friends, to family, to more. He breathed slowly and pulled, wrapping slowly those ties, as silver, around his friend—his friend who was likely tired from so long transformed, so long trying to get through glass made to stop things that had more force than the werewolf could muster.

    "Thanks, Bruce." He muttered as he walked closer and stuffed the two objects into one of his ratty jean pockets—with Bruce helping, he felt certain he could manage without, and let that thought bolster his abilities and strengthen his hold.

    The bonds became strong chains and bound the wolf inside, as Mike pressed his hand tight against the attendant's forehead. "Jackie, can you hear me?" He asked after a few moments more exerting his will.
  12. Bruce shifted over the smaller werewolf, snarling a warning, even as syrup and water soaked into his fur under him. Wet dog and sugary soda smell. Lovely. Something whispered in his ear and he shook his head, trying to ignore it. His eyes bored down at the other male, who shook even further the more Mike pushed and pressed and worked at him. Something wasn’t right.

    “Y…Yeah.” The voice was still gravely and hoarse, but it was far more intelligent then what had been spoken before. Slowly, though, his eyes rolled back and he seized.

    “Keep fuckin’ fightin’, man!” Bruce roared, though the young thing under him bucked, nearly knocking him over. He planted his weight further with another growl, trying to ride out the apparent seizure before… his skin went cold. Bruce’s heart hammered in his chest. Shit. What was going on?

    A cold cloud of breath escaped Jackie as he settled again, his head rolling to the side in unconsciousness. The fur fell out, leaving a mess on the floor, and slowly, the human emerged again, though still out cold. Bruce kept him pinned, but shifted so the other man wasn’t suffocating underneath all of his immense weight. “Come on…”
  13. "Wait, what? Shit!" Mike hurried around Bruce, then rested his head on Jackie's chest. Heartbeat? Was there..." He glanced up at Bruce briefly, then shook his head. No, now wasn't the time to guess! "Chest compressions! Can you do them? Keep him beating while I go inside!"

    With that, he pressed a hand against Jackie's cold forehead and forced himself in, sliding through cracks to try to find what had escaped, to try to find Jackie and restore him. "Jackie!" He called inside the man's self. "Jackie! Come on, time to wake up!"
  14. Bruce shot the man an insulted look, before he tapped at the man's cheek with his fingers. He unintentionally left scratches and he winced. He hoped the slight male wouldn't mind the scratches. He was just trying to wake him up! Still, something whispered and cooed in his mind, in his ear, enticing his wolf who strode so close to the surface. Fuck. He put his hand to his own forehead, groaning slightly as a slight stab of pain took over. What... No...

    Wilderness greeted Mike as he dove into his friend's mind. Silver weakens. Silver breaks. Fear the moon and all at stake.

    It was that creepy voice again, soft and childlike, but a rasp of air at the same time. It was distant, and then gone as he moved in deeper and there was Jackie, slamming the cage shut on the shadow like wolf that snarled at him with hungry eyes. The echo was hollow, as if not really there, but it still rang out.
    "And stay in there!"
  15. "Jackie!" Mike approached. "Man, are you ok? Sorry to barge in. Last were I encountered who lost control I had to get inside, and I wanted to make sure you were ok." He grinned at his friend.

    Outside the attendant, Mike drooled slightly as he kept his hand against Jackie's forehead.

    The weird thing seemed mostly gone, but those leftover echoes worried him.

    How could they not? They were creepy as hell! Also possibly a way for whatever it was to return. Did Bruce still have an opening?
  16. Bruce shifted away as Mike drooled slightly, his eyes shooting towards the door and windows in worry. For good measure, he mentally double checked that his wolf was tied and locked up, unable to get out. It was a tricky proposition at the moment, as he needed to jump into action at any moment if he needed to. But... something wasn't right here in the gas station. He hoped Maggie was staying in the car.


    The Chinese man looked over to his friend, gesturing to the snarling shadowy beast locked up next to him in indignation. "I got locked in my own defenses while this bastard ran amok in my own body! I'm just ducky!"

    His accent was thicker then usual, but when he was stressed, that tended to happen a lot. And this was definitely a stressful situation.
  17. Mike's smile faded. "Sorry, sorry. Before I go out and you wake up, I need you to tell me what you saw unusual besides being locked on the wrong side of the cage, ok? Werewolves have been going crazy, and if I'm going to be able to help, I need to know all I can."

    Most people didn't remember after emerging out of their own mindscape. If he remembered right, Jackie was one of them, but... well, he didn't know if he remembered right!
  18. "There was this odd... whispering. Something about silver weakening and breaking?" He ran a hand through his hair before he kicked the cage in response to the wolf growling. He wasn't a happy camper right now, even though he would never act like this when he was conscious. "A weird customer came by earlier, and then when I went to get some stuff out of the back, this... thing... slammed into me and my wolf got out. I tried to control it, I really did! But... I then found myself flung into my own cage and couldn't get out until you came in... I just wanted to feed. Not just rabbits or things like that, but humans."

    The man shuddered in distress at the idea, looking towards his wolf again before he looked back to Mike. "This is gonna cost a lot to fix, huh?"
  19. Mike smiled. "Well, it looks like you did most of the work, Jackie. I just helped a little—or did you mean the damage to the station?" He tilted his head. "Do you remember what the customer looked like? Did you have to card them at all?" He looked around, then at the cage and absently ran his hand along one of the bars. Because the wolf was still Jackie, he felt sure he wouldn't lose his hand, but he did want to offer the wolf comfort too.

    It was a part of Jackie, even if Jackie refused to acknowledge it as anything but a curse.

    "That sounds pretty similar to the last werewolf I encountered with the same issue, except I don't think he knew about any unusual visitors." He trailed off thoughtfully. "Let's go ahead and wake up, shall we?" He grinned at his friend, then disappeared.


    When he woke up, it was to find his face wet. He blinked a few times. "Jackie's fine." He managed as he ran a hand through his hair, then looked around for the man's sister.

    "He is?" The Asian woman slowly lifted her head to peek over the counter, her eyes shooting towards her brother's prone form. "He doesn't look fine." She shot a brief glare at Mike.

    "I just spoke to him, Amy. He's fine. He won't be when he sees the damage he did to the station, but he's fine right now." Mike turned to her and grinned as he wiped the drool from his face.

    Amy went silent, and her face paled as she began to look around. What she could see in the light of the discarded flashlight was... worrisome.
  20. Once assured that the problem was under control, Bruce induced the change in himself, wincing some at the sound of breaking and cracking bones. Cold swamped him as his fur fell out, though there was that weird underlying sensation where hot and cold mingled as the body adjusted from one to the other in the opposite environment. He popped his jaw as it retreated from a muzzle to more human-like proportions. He shook his head, and as his mind cleared, he realized two things. First, he was precariously perched on the much smaller Asian, which was easily fixed as he shifted off of him and stood, wobbling. His head ached. His everything ached, but that was normal, and much more appreciated then the tightness and buzzing that had happened last time. His stomach growled and without thinking, he swiped a cinnamon roll off a still standing display and tore it open, chomping into it. Second issue, though, was that he was naked. Again. How the hell was he going to explain his lack of clothes to Maggie?

    "What smells like wet dog...?" Jackie's eyes slowly pried open as he pried an arm off the floor. The noise sounded painful and he winced, slowly pushing himself up. He gave a soundless exclamation of pain, his eyes squeezing shut and his hands going over his eyes. He slammed back against the floor with nothing to support him and he cursed. "My head..."

    "It'll pass." Bruce commented around a mouthful of food, before he swallowed and started scavenging for more to eat.