BANG bang bang taptaptaptap tap.. tap. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Sounds like metal
on the crapwood of the door. Thunk. "Guuuuuys, wake up" mumbled into the door.
Thunk thunk. Thunk thunk.
Already at her door, Penny kicks at the door. BANG bang bang taptaptaptap tap.. tap. Thunk. The metal pitcher knocks into the door. Thunk. "Guuuuuys, wake up" mumbled into the door. Thunk thunk. Then her head, thunk thunk. She pleads quietly through the peephole "Guys I can't get my keeeeey.. Pooobs c'mon.."
She just might not've heard your question, taken to whining at a closed door. Best to bet Penny needs to be asked twice while she's distracted "HellooOoo.." kicks at the door again.
Time for a little divine intervention. Vulture steps up to the side of the door and blasts a couple of hammer blows into the firedoor. A couple of good steel toed kicks as well, "OPEN UP!" Is the less than melodic bellow, "WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! THIS IS THE POLICE!" Oh, sure, then he leans against the side of the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. One ear cocked to listen
for movement inside the room. His lips, of course, are split into a wicked grin of mischeivous malice, "So... y'gotta fuck'n name, or what?" There's that question asked again - cause he can.
There's some scrabbling from inside. Sounds like plates being knocked about,
something goes smash. Then silence.
Knock knock. Comes the reply.
There is the sound of a door slamming open, and then closed.
Penny stands aside with all her shit and lets you stay there in front of the door. Casually she leans on the wall with a no-good-can-come-from-this look toward the ceiling. "'Course I do," gravel for a voice, her eyes rolling that way - toward you, the noise and the door. "Uch. It's up," Penny observes with some melodrama, some ill-will and takes a step to the left. Saving introductions for later, she nods that way across the hall, "Might wanna" indicating you should move before the door opens.
And so the carrion bird perches himself a good foot from the door. His hands drop away from his arms and hang at his sides, Vulture's never been known - yet - to be caught with his pants down around his ankles. He half glances at the door and then looks back across it to the less than verbose woman, "S'good t'have a name..." He comments singularily, before stuffing a few more frosted flakes in his mouth... chewing noisily. He even starts to tap out a tune on the molding with the heel of one boot, stuffing the unopened box into one of his deep pockets. This should prove interesting.
//.etro: Pobble rolls "chemistry+intelligence" privately to Penny at diff 4.
For a total of 6 success(es) including 3 ten(s).
//.etro: Penny rolls "Dexterity + Dodge" privately to Pobble at diff 6.
For a total of 4 success(es) including 2 ten(s).
The door whips open, and a beaker flies out. There seems to be some kind of
contraption stickytaped to it. Maybe another container within. As this
happens, there's the smell of sweet flowers and a light mist which errupts
into flames.
Amidst the conflagration of scent, the beaker smashes. So does its counterpart.
Oh. My. God.
Mister Smelly Time. Acommpanied by a thick acrid yellow fog. Nice.
The door slams shut.
A small voice calls out, "There's no one home."
Another sound of the interior door slamming. And.. wait. It sounds like.. something trying to climb up the door.
Penny knew it was coming.
It's like she's psychic or something.
" Mother fucker," see - she's in the right place - to the LEFT of the door.
" Shouldna said you were the cops," asiding to you like it's good advice. Penny
kicks on the door "you open this door Dave or I swear to FUCK I'll skin you
myself."
BangBANGbangbang.
She coughs a little, shielding her nose and mouth in the pile of boxes and food. "It's just fucking me. ME, PENS. God. Just open the door, I swear to god there's no fucking cops."
Light dissapears through the peep hole. There is a sigh, something scrapes the door and the lock clicks shortly followed by the sound of something small hitting the floor.
" Penny you fucking brass hat."
Laughing. Oh yeah, the punk is busting a gut. He's dropped Tony on the floor, he has one hand over his mouth and nose, and he's laughing so hard he could puke at any moment. Leaning back against the wall Vulture looks like he hasn't laughed quite so hard in a long time. A long, long, time. One hand waves, trying to sweep away the vile smelling smoke. A pause in his uproar, just long enough to say something along the lines of, "Fuck'n paranoia... I love't..." Hard to discern, it's the hand that muffles it. Hell, he could've said, "Monosodium Glutamate." And it would have sounded vaguely familiar.
Gripping the handle from the farside, Penny shoves the door open with her free-ish hand and lets it swing wide. "Least I get some, hairball." Bit on the venomous side this morning, Penny practically spits that. "Practical joker," an apology of sorts and waits, waving you in first "Mi casa.." She's not particularly amused; probably had too rough a night for nonsense like this.
The door is stopped by something. No one to be seen inside. Just a mess. The thick acrid stench drifts within as the door remains open.
Pobble is apparently in the bathroom. With the door open, David is nowhere to be seen.
Vulture ahs, and nods.
Keene has connected.
Keene has disconnected.
Penny looks left then right and holds the door open for Vulture, shoving the door open wide as she can. "Yeah," a few boxes finally tumbling out to the floor and whatever else crowds it "COMPANY," she calls out though it seems there's no waking the dead in these parts. Sounds from the bathroom mean there's at least one person over there; noises from the floor beyond the second bed means there's at least another body that side. Only clear spaces seem to be in between beds and two small spaces between the closet and desk areas. "Breakfast," she nudges a sleeping bag on the other side of the bed. When it doesn't move, she moves on to the lump on the first bed "Comps you livin'? Eh.. " Setting up stuff on the minifridge, Penny grabs a bowl for you, one for her and one for whoever's in the bathroom. "Help yourself..." looking for a name.
From the bathroom, there is a faint gurgling noise and then the noise of someone sucking through a straw.
From under the bed, a small voice says, "Oh holy christ." with a tone of sheer terror.
Hammering the door shut behind himself, "Vulture." Looks over at Penny briefly before he surveys the room. A nicely sinister smirk is on his lips, and he tugs the box of cereal out of his pocket to pop the top off of it. Despite his lack of a second functioning eye he seems to be able to take in everything pretty well. Good spacial awareness, "Nice fuck'n pad y'got here..." He comments as he carefully steps his way over to the minifridge.
Penny crosses paths with you, moving toward the bathroom, stepping over a pile of shoes here, clothes there. Cables piled up next to the door; lots of brown packing boxes still taped up and labeled with smiley faces, headphones and/or arty-glyphs. "I hate this place, thank god it's just temporary.." bang bang on the bathroom door "oi, needa skin up" looking back over the bodies, taking a stab at who might be in there "wanna sha, Pobs. Fuckin'monkeybrains gave us the stink. Brought breakfast." Knock, knock.
" I don't shag coppers," comes the call, its a world weary and vacant voice. The voice of a soon to be coma victim.
There's a big gulping sound, and then the noise of someone apparently falling to the floor. Glass tinkles. Someone vomits rather violently. "They're... comming. Through.. my nose...
cameras in my.. nose. You fuckers won't take me."
" Dave.." The voice gets weaker and weaker. "Kill.. Kill Penny the copper.." Dave apparently wants to stay under the bed. Whimpering.
Vulture taps his tongue stud against his teeth for a moment or two as he spills the contents of the Frosted Flakes box into a bowl, keeping his gaze anywhere but where it should be. Murmuring to himself, "This is what'ts like... what't's like when worlds collide... this is what't's like..." As his eyes pass by the bed, he tilts his head to the side, "Hey," He stops his singing for a moment to ask the most potent question --> "When did I fall inta th'TV? This's a Rob Zombie video, right?" Pulling the cereal box up to his face he points a finger at the fucking tiger on the box, "Y'come alive, Tony, an I'm'a take back my childhood, y'crack dealin' fuck'n feline quadraped..." Crunch. Squishing the box those eyes finally rest on Penny, "S'okay f'I grab some milk?"
Yeah yeah," distracted, she has her ear to the bathroom door. She tries the handle murmuring "Uch not again.. the fuck is peachy.." asking the handle, not the voice under the bed. Finding it unlocked, Penny shoves her way in saying "Yeah um, really sorry about all this," with half a backward glance, "..pranksters. Tough to live with y'know? Help yourself.." her good humor forced, checking to see if you're more into the milk than what's behind Door Number 2. Yes? Yes. Good. Penny gives a final shove and slams the door behind her. No peeking.
Inside is a chemical mess. Aparatus set up to drip something into the sink, with the faintly familiar smell of LSD. A straw floats in the pool, and next to the sink is Pobble. Looks like he's been sick through the nose and is sweating and shaking profusely.
Something under the bed whimpers some more. "He's falling away.. bye bye..... bye bye.."
It's true, Vulture is more interested in a healthy breakfast than whatever someone may be throwing up in the bathroom - or whatever. He pools milk into the bottom of his bowl, watching it slips and slide all over the flakes, "Drown, y'lil' bastards... drown..." Yup, cause it's mentally stable to talk to your cereal, "Y'd think that Lewis Carroll woulda come up with more've a concept than this.." Evidently the carrion bird still thinks he's in some sort of wacky land of make believe. Before he takes his first spoonful of his soggy flakes he pops a couple of pills into his mouth and swallows, "They know who you are," He sings to himself, "There know who you are..."
There's a lot going on behind the bathroom door. Since you're already in the right frame of mind to picture it, you've no trouble at all imagining Penny-Whipthin dragging a body across the short tiled distance or what kind of tinkling crash a glass makes when it's swiped off the counter. The dull echo of booted-feet in a tub. Sound of the shower being turned on and a lot of tinny, echoey conversation happening. In between there are solidly formed phrase "hospital again" and "not even a week" or "Keene'll shit a BRICK" or "fucking monkey." Take your pick, it's all Penny talking anyway.
Following the sounds of water are screams. Real agonizing screams, the sound of someone being terrifyingly mutilated by rabid creatures of death. Words grasp to make themselves understood through the pain-static noise but to no avail. It sounds truly horrendous.
Penny has managed to pick your ass up through some miracle of leverage and keeps talking to you despite your lack of response "I am NOT taking you to the hospital again." She hobbles with most of your weight on her into the bathtub, gets the water on ice cold at full blast "You think I need this shit? It's fucking freezing out there. You know what they'd do if we brought you back there? They'd look at me and Keene and say 'not even a week' and he's dosed hisself good'n STUPID again." It's a two-step thing and you're no help with all the screaming "Fucking delerious, Keene's gonna lose his shit is what, shit a brick aww.. c'mon, wake up." Ducking down, now your face is in the water "Up, up y'go. C'mon Steve-O it's just me and the lousy old shower."
From afar, Pobble flails about wildly, trying to move out of the water as if it were acid of the corrosive kind. His hands claw at his face, perhaps trying to protect it but not doing a great job. Red lines appear, and his cheek breaks open releasing a blood trickle into the flow of water.
Vulture pauses. His cheeks are puffed out with the monstrous spoonful he just stuffed in there. Eyes wide behind his shades. Evidently someone doesn't like taking showers very often. Slowly he commences chewing again and swallows. Curiousity killed the cat... it's a good thing the punk is more often seen as a bird. He steps over to the television and pokes it on, tuning in some godawful religious telemmercial. Watching it with kind of a half interest considering he isn't in the least bit religious, "C'mon, Jimmy... tell me I'm goin' t'hell.... then show us y'daughter's tits and tell us she's a whore." Well, at least he can keep himself entertained, glancing back over his shoulder at the bathroom door in caution.
The water makes the screams louder and Dr Steve thrashes about, smashing his arms against the side of the tub. Those'll be some nice bruises. His face bleeds more under the water, and a clawed hand desparately tries to pull at the wound. In between the screams the man coughs and splutters. "Fucking Police Brutality" he manages to cry.
Screams, splutters, coughs and choking noises are followed by a strangled call of "Fucking police brutality."
Someone is getting murdered.
Outside, someone else errupts into a coughing fit, and there is the sound of glass breaking underfoot. "Oh god, I'm going to hurl." can be heard.
From the bathroom, "UP, up.. c'mon" blurble, blurble and then during the commercial break come more screams. More thrashing and the bad noises. "Fucking Police Brutality!" then a thud.
" You fucking cunt," said with an it's-for-your-own-good friendly menace "that was MY face you just scratched. EARTH to CADET," wet slap-slap sounds prolong the episode in the shower.
The TV gets turned off... nothing Reverend James can say will add up to the fun sounds coming from the bathroom. Vulture wanders over, still stuffing his face, and stands next to the bathroom door. Off to the side like. Listenning in. His gaze goes idly to the bed where the voice was coming from before, another couple of scoops of cereal beginning to drain the bowl in which it resides. His head bops along to the soundtrack playing in his head as he does so.
" Dave.. they're killing me.." comes a weak cry. Then silence, then more screams. Then silence. Thrashing, thudding. Silence.
From under the bed comes a shrill cry, a cry of pain and anger and frustration. A tiny shape darts out, running with speed straight at Vulture. Its a monkey, in a suit. Along the way, it deftly grabs the previously discarded steak knife with a monkies-only dexterity and dives at the biker, knife first. "Noooo." it screams, seeing Vulture as guarding the door to the violence.
A squeak-squeak and dripping sound tells us Penny's turned off the shower. And she starts shouting "WHY AM I BLEEDING?" WHY. AM. I. BLEEDING?" with all the authority of The Authorities Pobble's been railing about all this time. Another squeak-squeak sounds like rubber soles stepping out of the tub, whip sounds like thrown towels and she drill seargents "GET UP. GET UP."
Pobble seems to have lapsed in to some form of comatose state. He twitches violently, then is still. Twitches again. Then still. Breathing is shallow. Although wet and soggy, he looks like he's burning up. The LSD continues to drip into the sink.
A punch, yeah, the punk would probably let it land. A knife, on the other hand, would leave a lasting impression. Vulture has too many of those. Even as the monkey is quick, the birdman is quick. Spitting out his current mouthful of Tony's flakes he drops the bowl to the floor - yet holds the spoon evenly in his hand. Sidestepping rapidly out of the way the Carrion bird drops his shades onto the end of his nose, "This's FUCKT!" He exclaims, a grin rippling lengthwise across his lips, "Y'wanna go? Its go time, Curious George..." Apparently, unlike other criminal elements in this city, the mohawked one just doesn't carry anything that can be considering a weapon. So, in pure Tick fashion - SPOON!
The door to the bathroom opens behind you and like providence, Penny's hand grabs and pulls you inside the bathroom. Slams the door. "Erm.. uh.. hi."
Whirling around, spoon held high for the kill, Vulture looks stupified and ready to rock and roll - all at the same time. He blinks, not once, but a whole bunch of times, "Th'fuck?" He peers around the bathroom, half expecting a knife carrying suit wearing talking monkey to come flying out of the wall at any moment. Of course, that's what happens when you're dreaming. Right?
The tub's running now. And Penny's soaking wet, red slashes on her cheeks. "I'm SO So so so so so so so sorry about that." Wide eyed, Penny is convincing and totally believable. "My friend" indicating at what's behind the shower curtain in the bathtub "left one of his programs running. Stupid lasershow bullshit. All that cable and the computers on the desk," a little out of breath she pauses here, flips the toilet seat and lid down and sits "he's mad fucking cool but he's totally fucking crazy. Thing was cycling for shutdown," looking at a much waterlogged watch "like at 10:30."
Put into perspective the whole Dream theory gets chucked out the window. Ever the curious sort, Vulture opens to the shower curtain to take a brief peek, and then looks back down at the woman on the toilet. You. He points the spoon, "Well, this's certainly been a fuck'n cool night... no word've a lie. I ain't never been attacked by a fuck'n monkey n'a suit 'fore..." With his free hand he pushes his shades back up on his face, "Y'might wanna throw a couple o' dressins on y'cheeks, tho'... laser show'r not, y'boyfrien' there did a number on y'face." The whole computer lingo thing, for the most part, goes right over his head. He can turn one on and loosely surf the net - but everything else is Greek.
wipes at her face with the back of her hands "Be fine," though she winces. "The whole stinkbomb thing is part of this like.. treehouse security system he's rigging up for our new place but .. this just isn't working. A monkey in a suit? So fucking lame. You weren't fooled were you?" Rhetoric, she knows you weren't. Elbows on her knees, Penny shivers; wet clothes don't really do much for her now do they. "I gotta get the place cleaned up 'fore the rest of them come back," still a little embarrassed by the whole affair "this is ridiculous. Catch up some other time, eh?"