2019-10-01 - Clown Hunting Kid Exclusive!

Rebecca should NOT be here. She has spent more than enough time 'roughing it' in the woods at August Roen's cabin for a lifetime before Gohl was exorcised. But these stupid balloons are annoying her. Making her angry. And because she has her asshole distantly related ancestor infecting her with his assholery, she has been angry enough to go stomping into the woods to find where the damn things are coming from. She hates that fucking movie clown!

To be fair, it's the first time she's lost her cool since the exorcism, and it's mostly because her best friend is in the hospital and she is worried sick about him. The blonde is in plaid trousers and a black turtleneck with low-heeled black leather ankle boots, and a light leather jacket over the ensemble due to the chill in the air. Her teeth are gritted in thinly veiled rage.

Prank or not, Lyric was going to check it out because red balloons! Walking along the edge of the forest anyway, short-cutting from one part of town to another, or so she tells herself, she keeps following the balloons. Not really scared, even if she has seen her share of weirdness, from fish to crabs and birds that are scary.

Since it's cold out, she's wearing a pair of low rise jeans with slashes up and down the front along with a black shirt that claims I'm with the Band on the front of it. On her feet are calf high boots with clasps, buckles and zippers.

Grant finds the balloons hilaaaaarious. And hey, free balloons! There are some people that go blithely through life oblivious to its dangers hopped up on gummi bears and goofballs. Ahhhh, life's little dipshits skateboarding through the fucking firefly forest. He looks exactly like one might expect with his layers and military jacket, and magenta hair spiked up and his jewelry made out of junk and parts flipping around. Those wheels can be heard clapping back down the path, ABEC 11's rooooooolling making their own sound.

If something is going to lure someone into the woods and do unspeakable things to them, it's going to be him. After following parking his motorcycle and heading into the woods, Everett withdraws his bowie knife from its stealth and pops one after finding the next one to travel too. The ride and the drizzle has made the already unpleasant giant even more so while he returns the knife to the scabbard but keeps his hand on it, using the other to brush branches out of his way.

Rebecca looks down at the mud on her boots and she growls under her breath. Her hair is going slightly curly from the damp as well. She is NOT happy. She stops at the last balloon and punches it with one balled up fist. Then she stamps her foot. Splashing mud onto her pants. GODDAMMIT! She looks around to see who else is there.

Walking along, Lyric catches sight of someone punching one and she laughs. "Hi," she tells Rebecca, "You showed that balloon." Catching up to her a little, she motions further in, "Is that one back there?"

Glancing at the others, Everett looks down where his boots sink into the wet sludge before trudging along further, silently. His long hair hangs down and clings to the side of his head, and his shoulders in strands like elongated fingers absorbing the black-on-black of his hair and the black biker's jacket as similarly damp as his dark jeans. The princess looks drastically out of her league and the utterance from her, combined with the balloon aggression causes a small smirk to appear on the right side of Everett's mouth. Lyric is given the same smirk during the brief distraction then the gloomy thug resumes his course further on, boots shlurping with each footstep.

Aaaaaand then there's mud. "Aaaaaw non-non-heinous." Grant stamps the tail of that board to pop it up and snaps it out of the air with a hand flipping it under arm in one motion. That balloon popping makes him do a damn dance in the air, "Christ! Woah! It's rubber! Keep doing that and you're gonna like waaaaaaay complicate your social life." Deep breaths! Looking around he boggles at the gathered, "Shit am I hallucinating you or you here for the ... party or whatever?"

Rebecca looks over at Lyric when she's addressed, and she lets out a breath. "I'm trying to find where they were going. They're starting to drive me batty," she grumbles. She looks where the young woman is pointing and squints into the gloom. "Maybe, we can go take a look?" She heads that way, pausing to size up the giant hulking man as if he might be responsible for the red rubber annoyances.

When they reach the shack she wrinkles her nose. "Well that is utterly creepy." And then there is a child. "Oh no," she whispers. "Sweetie? Are you ok? Why are you way out here?"

"Maybe keep on the trail they were going? At least the direction." A nod, they would take a look. "May as well come with us," she tells any others around them. As they get to the cabin, she laughs. "I feel like I am in Hansel and Gretel," Lyric says as she squishes through the mud in her boots. "Except I feel slighted. This should be a gingerbread house. Bummer." The arrival of another is noted and she watches as the girl with the blood approaches. Cocking her head to the side a little, she wades through the mud over to stand protectively in front of the nearest entrance in the house. The one between herself and the girl in the yellow rain coat. She glances over at the others and sort of does a quick gesture move of her head for them to follow her over to do the same. Hopefully when the bloodied blonde isn't looking.

That's not how a normal person with blood on them greets people.
He oughta know.

Everett tightens his hold on his knife, instantly suspicious, turning his torso to keep the knife away from the little girl who seems nonplussed about having a coating in what appears to be something that's supposed to be in the inside of people. There's no other movement, no refrain from letting the people who want to talk to the girl to talk to her on his part. His attention lifts to the cabin shortly, then the other people, then Rebecca, then the little girl. His smirk is gone, he could give a warning, but something holds him back. When Lyric looks in his direction, Everett shakes his wet head softly, but approaches.

For absolutely no reason at all, Lyric turns her head slightly and makes a soft shhh'ing sound to absolutely no one in particular. Probably no one she approached the house with.

Grant takes a deep breath but hey look a kid! He pauses looking up at Everett as this huge fucker shows up letting eyebrow number two join eyebrow number one. Then there's Lyric and Rebecca there, and that kid. Turning o the child he starts to walk over there in an easy saunter, "Oh heeeeey. Is it your birthday?" Noting the blood on her raincoat he helpfully informs the others "Oh sweet, looks like they go hot dogs which is good cause I could maul some right now." Oh yeah he's walking over there.

Rebecca looks at the child in confusion, and then she looks back towards the hunter's shack. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the clown which looks downright terrifying, but also downright beaten to shit. "Wh-what...wh-who is that?" she blurts out.

"Someone who didn't want to be found by the girl. It's scared." Lyric watches the little girl. "What are you hunting? You should go find your parents at least." She chances a glance at Rebecca then Everett. Everett is just do darn big that she sort of steps a tiny bit beside him. Safety and all that. All the while waiting to see what Grant and the girl and the clown do.

For his part, Everett's army green eyes dart towards the clown face when it starts to loom out the window still. Then his eyes dart. To the girl, the cabin, Rebecca. Down to Lyric when she draws nearer. He looks back towards the clown and the little girl again and the crouch that he found himself in ends. Everett stands tall, snapping the clasp on the sheath of his hostler to secure his knife. Big arms like street lamps cross over his broad chest with the squeaking of wet leather on wet leather while he crosses his arms and waits. Water dripping from his left brow, whatever danger the brute had thought he sensed seems over, but he's not trusting enough to turn his back to either girl or clown.

Grant is shit with common sense but man he is good with people! he looks surprised to hear hunting party and he walks over, hand rubbing the back of his neck asking her "Like we lost something, ooor like a" His fingers snap in the air with a wistful grin, "Man what's that called where you gota like hunt the clues and go from place to place?" He looks to Everette, Lyric and Rebecca, "Anyone remember hose? Like that old movie Road Rally" He pauses and holds his hand up, "Yeah one of them." He is oblivious to the clown right up to then. "Oh hey a clown, awww shit kid it's your birthday! Aww I din't get you a present. Maaan I feel bad now."

Rebecca's eyes go cartoonishly big at the sight of the little girl with a shotgun. "What in the hell are you doing with that!?" she yells at the child, then looks back at the terrified clown. "Am I the only one seeing a bloody clown and a kid with a shotgun? Am I losing my mind? Did I get that damned flu!?" she shouts in exasperation.

Lyric watches Grant for a moment. Right up until the gun comes out and she squeaks. The clown is equally as scary. "Just everyone calm down! You leave that clown alone, he didn't hurt you!" Everett is given a plea sort of look. Like do something! Because he's biggest, that's why.

Then again, he could be wrong. There's no danger to HIM, at the moment.
Everett looks from clown to weapon, and his brows lift, looking up to its possessor. Many a thought rolling through the large man's mind. Rebecca's questions has Everett turning his attention her way. "No", he offers, his voice throaty, like that'll answer everything. His reaction though, is to look down at Lyric, the one person here whom he knows of. With an inquisitive look, he waits to see if she'll have any thoughts, or opinions, his own being that the situation will be resolved soon. A few calibers at a time at least. An exasperated sigh leaves Everett with the pleading look from Lyric, while the big man rolls his eyes. Unfolding his arms, he points to the kid, "Hey. C'mere," and then crooks his finger

Grant pulls oth arms up as the kid knocks him aside and says "Holy shit it's like Elmer Fudd and Jessie the Oakland Cowgirl had a really angry 10 year old!" He catches the coat and winces aiming for the pathetic end of plea bargaining, "Hey kid, how about we go find a birthday cake or something instead? Firing that thing off is like gonna super harsh my buzz." He looks to the clown and asks, "You want some too we can just get a bigger ones. You already got balloons. It'll be totes baller, man."

Dammit. Rebecca has no time or patience for little kids with guns tromping through the woods, chasing performers. Her hand flashes out, her eyes flash in a moment of glimmer, and she snatches the shotgun out of the child's hands with telekinesis, tossing it away from her into the bushes. "Guns are not for children," she states, coldly. More Jean Grey than Stepford Cuckoos but it works.

The gun goes flinging into the woods and Everett follows the sudden movement, tracking the general vicinity that it's tossed into, perking notably. Squirrel! And when it finishes crashing through the brush, Everett hangs his head before meeting his face with his large palm in a wet smack. And holds that pose for a few breaths. "We might have needed that," he murmurs into his palm. Lifting his head, Everett takes a look at the girl. 'Girl'. Running away and then Lyric. "Someone has to take charge."

"I'm honestly not sure which is bad and which is good, but the girl is the one wanting to kill things. Clowns.. get a bad rap." But the clown did look scary. "What did she mean a full set?" Lyric chases neither one, but they managed to save a clown today.

Grant shifts his weight from one foot to the other watching this all play out in slow motion, or what seems to be. Fingers go through his dark pink hair. He blinks watching the clown gooooo that way. Turning his head he watches the kid goooooo the other way. Leaning over to Lyric, not taking his eyes off the trees he whispers, "...I don't think there's a birthday party." aww maaan! He stops though and turns to Lyric, a bit blurry eyed but in a moment of total clarity, "In some situations in life there doesn't need to be a good and bad person. We all have our flaws and I think now is a great time to maybe let people like... go, self reflect...Find cake." And that is what he's off to do.

Rebecca folds her arms over her chest and glares at Irma, and when she flees the blonde woman yells out, "I hate this fucking town! Rain! Mud! Flu! Ghosts! Bones! Little kids hunting clowns with guns! WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE!" Gohl has given her a temper AND a potty mouth. She throws her hands up into the air and stomps off angrily.

Staying hushed about the frightening factor of the clown, Everett maneuvers himself to look into the cabin from where hence the clown wiggled free. He squints then shields his eyes, and then finally takes a chrome lighter from inside his jacket. Shielding it, he gives the flint two rolls before the flame appears and holding it up high, Everett peers inside the little shack to see what else was in there.

And freezes.

His expression falls flat, mouth going agape before he turns to Rebecca. "Oh. God. She killed them. The little kid killed and eat them." He points the hand not holding the lighter, "Get her", he exclaims, flicking the other wrist to shut off the flame.

"I guess there's no birthday party. But the clown ran away anyway." Lyric smiles at Grant as he seems to be leaving to find cake. "See you later. Be safe, alright?" Turning back to Rebecca she just watches her a little wide eyed at the crazy that suddenly escapes. Hmm. "We're all a little mad here." From the Mad Hatter. But it's Everett's observation that has her looking at him in horror. "Whaaat? She ate them?" Oh no!

Rebecca pauses for a moment, and eyes Everett a moment. "Fuck you, Paul Bunyan!" she snaps back, then she's trudging off to go clean up and get warm and dry at Hyacinth's.

Grant can be heard wandering away from them apparently having his hearing aids turned up enough he's catching that and yells, "Hey kid, don't you know not to eat clowns? They taste funny!" He turns to blow Lyric a kiss with a wink, "Will do." And with that he continues on into the dark. "

As quickly as his expression of surprise appears, it melts into a broad, self-satisfied grin. Grant steals his pun, but that doesn't sour his mood any. Pocketing his lighter again, Everett shakes his wet hair while joining Lyric again, and gives her a nudge with his elbow to her shoulder. "I'm just playin'. C'mon, let's pop the balloons on our way back so no other poor clowns get caught up here."