2021-01-26 - ...The Bad...& it's Getting Uglier

Vic has brought something better than coffee. In her bag of holding she's deposited barrels for everyone's weapons used in the meth lab hit. They've all been repeatedly fired in the woods for target practice and to make them look not shiny new and replacements of the ones the guns already have. They will, however, have different rifling of the bores, so they won't match any ballistics tests if the cops start looking at them for the deaths of Reyes' Meth Lab crew. She will also collect the pistol and rifle barrels from that op for melting down. No one is pinning shit on them while a former cop and Forensics person is on the crew.

She's not sitting though, choosing to stand a bit behind Joey and keep an eye on the doors and windows.

Itzhak brought coffee. Also bagels, lox and schmear. Look, you can't plan a battle on an empty stomach. He's not sitting, either, instead restlessly stalking back and forth, inked fingers flexing like he badly wants an instrument or a cigarette or somebody's neck to wring. Or all three. (At least he did not actually bring a violin.)

Did Rhys bring coffee? Well, he's got coffee, and also one of the padded chairs, which is settled by Joey's and looks as though there might have been talking going on earlier. So he may well have done. He is sitting, looking perfectly comfortable sipping from a good-sized cup and polishing off the last few bites of a bear claw. This does not prevent him giving the bagels and their toppings some vaguely covetous glances when they arrive. Might be up for a second course. Unlike the mechanic, he looks like he's in a reasonably cheerful and relaxed mood just at the moment, and it increases a touch at Vic's bag o' gifts. "Nice," is the somewhat understated remark on that, but the approval is genuine. He has enough forensics knowledge to appreciate the thinking. And it saves on anyone having to look into entire new guns, too.

In also comes Neil and Craig. Yes he has a list. Har har. Neil used to do dead drops and collect them as a courier. Craig used to work for Greg when the drug trade in the Harbor made some damn sense. Both shuffle in and it's Neil that does a shit job of looking casual because there's a room full of crime lieutenants, persons of note, and the city underboss in a sling sitting there looking none too happy drinking his mocha no whip (he's trying to lay off the carbs as much as it's unfun). Looking up from Rhys' recent update on what he found he notes those coming in. He is eyeballing those bagels now. "Viiiiiiic you know how to make me fucking smile. This is good. They all clean?"

"Squeaky clean," Vic notes. "And they've all been fired many times, so they won't look like you swapped them out." She really does think of everything, this one. She should maybe be a Cleaner instead of an Enforcer at this rate. "Seth and I already swapped ours out. Toss the old ones into the bucket by the back door, I'll be taking them away for melting down in a kiln." In the basement of the hotel in Hoquiam.

Itzhak looks at the barrels, tilting his head in that very specific way he does when he's listening to something only he can hear. A silent shimmer of violin notes, and then, "Yeah. Fuckin' nice, Gray." He's got coffee but he's avoiding the food he brought.

Rhys may or may not be enjoying the last of that sweet delicious slab of almost nothing but carbs (okay, there's butter and almonds in there too) particularly much in the face of Joey's temporary shunning of them. It's a reminder of what one's got, right? A bit of glaze-drizzled almond paste's ended up on a fingertip, the last bit, and he gives it a quick little lick to clean it off before rubbing the finger on the paper napkin to clean the lick off too. "Thanks," he adds to Vic, "...handy things, kilns." A sip of coffee, and he eyes the latest arrivals with faint interest and, in Neil's case, a little bit of amusement. The update can pause a little longer without annoyance; he's not going anywhere just yet.

Neil is not avoiding the food Itzhak brought. the crown prince of menial tasks is all over that shit like no one pays him enough. He grins to Rhys "Suuup, money boss." Piling up a ton on the bagel he says unasked, "You know this is better than being at the car wash all damn day. People don't leave good shit in their glove compartment anymore." It's a hard look from the boxer looking at the guns cache that stops and freezes on him with one eyebrow going up. Neil is caught in that dead stare of Joey Kelly before he defends, "Not yours!"

Vic keeps an eye on Neil and Craig, the extras in this brilliant crime drama. Everyone else she can trust to keep their shit together in a situation, even the damned accountant who turned out to be Captain Sniper. The two small-timers, though, they are possible liabilities as unknowns. "So where do we go from here, boss?" she asks Joey in a calm tone.

"Yeah they don't do that anymore because of you, Gurecki." Itzhak may not be eating, but he'll take a bite out of a dumbass. His nerves are worked way the hell up and he's eager to snap, to fight, to cause trouble and give somebody, preferably several someones, a very bad day. Grief and bad news in the form of a man.

Craig comes in and sluffs off his coat to put it on the back of one of the chairs and Joey looks at the pusher, "You bring me a fuckin coffee?" Craig pauses and stares at them confused. Maybe he missed the memo, "N-no?" Joey points to the unpadded chair. With a sigh Craig moves his coat and goes for a bagel, stops and murmurs, "Be right back. I left... something in my car. And like a rabbit not to waste time he runs out.

Joey watching this says to Vic, "Reyes has his offices up town. we've been hitting the secured sector but tomorrow he's having a-" Joey's eyes fall on the coat on the chair and the guy that left. His lower eyelids pull up. Quietly he murmurs, "Someone tell me where the fuck he just went without his fucking coat."Looking to Itzhak he upnods to him and the coat proper in case.

"'sup," Rhys replies to Neil, giving him a flash of the grin. He will take 'money boss', apparently. He will also take one of those bagels, or would have if he hadn't been about to right when Craig makes his unexpected exit. A brow lifts. Even for darting to the car, it's cold out there with no coat right now. "Must be something pretty important," he notes. A nod to Joey's request someone tell him, and he adds, "Neil, you wanna take a look? You know where he parked, right?" So it'll be most efficient. Also he can get his own bagel meanwhile. Or could, if he weren't eyeing the coat a bit.

Vic watches Craig and then her eyes snap to the coat on the chair. She moves quickly, unfolding her arms like a bird of prey, as she rushes to look out the door after the suspicious-acting pusher. "Favre's talking to someone out there in a Civic," she announces back to the room. Then she curses. "SHIT! Something's going down outside the coffee shop, 2 SUVs, 2 guys outside taking a woman hostage at gunpoint. More with weapons in the SUV, and some of them shine. FUCK!" She growls, seeing Craig duck between cars, like he knows what's going down.

Itzhak's eyes snap to Favre's abandoned jacket. He digs into the inner pocket--no turning all the pockets out, he knows exactly what he's going for. The phone he pulls out is lit up, mid-call. Itzhak hangs it up. "Low rent fuckin' bug." He shoves it in his own pocket, but his is better; his is endless. Vic swears, giving the report, and Itzhak immediately gets out of line of sight. Good thing he's skinny. "They're playin' our song," he mutters, that battle grin of his starting to bloom on his face.

Neil looks up to Rhys and at his bagel and at Rhys and Joey, then Vic. Like he's not going to tell the crime upper echelon 'no' but also really wants to eat lunch. Neil starts out that way to go look but Vic is there and he is.... absofuckingloutely NOT going to tell the iron giantess to move. He likes his limbs and masculinity attached.

Joey's waiting on the coat. He is down an arm but not common sense. As soon as Itzhak pulls out the phone? Joey's drawing his pistol. As soon as that phone is 'gone' he looks to Vic and Neil. "Rhys... gear up." And like a goddamn wraith Joey, sling and all, is taking fewer strides than he needs to drawing the pistol and pointing it at Neil. Only three words, "Did you know?"

And with that there is 0 questions that Joey has retired from being a hitman. Neil stands there looking at Joey, the Beretta, and doesn't look at the lox hitting the floor. Well he doesn't pee himself so there's that. "N-n-n-no w-we came separate. We don't even hang out. Ididn'tknow! I didn'tknow!" This is enough, at least to satisfy Joey and anyone else scrying this kid's soul. A finer confession has only been made by Chunk from Goonies. This is not a time for nostalgia.

"Call Seth and Cris. Let them know what's up."

Rhys eyes the phone Itzhak extracts, and sighs. He'll make a great dad someday: he's not mad, just disappointed. Okay, no, he's also a little bit mad. Mostly, though, he's about twelve degrees more clearly on alert, now, and alas all bagels are postponed, the more so when Vic adds in her further observations. Most of that needs some running through his mental database of logic and odds, so the bit that gets an initial if slightly distracted note is, "The fuck are they doing with shiny weapons? Hostage taking isn't conspicuous enough as it is?"

Joey didn't have to tell him twice -- may, based on timing, not even have had to tell him once. His own pistol's drawn swiftly enough he might already have been starting on it. Or he might just be fast. He doesn't aim it at anyone, but keeps an eye on the boxer's interaction with Neil, with a small nod at the response elicited. He appears reasonably satisfied with it as well, at least enough for current priority purposes. "Anyone we know, Vic? On either side?" he inquires, adding to Itzhak, "...you happen to notice the name or number on that call, by the way?"

Vic digs into her coat pocket and pulls out her phone, and a Glock 23. The latter floats in the air, pointed at the entrance to the studio while she taps out a text and sends it to the two missing men. Then the phone is back in her pocket and the gun is snatched out of the air to cover the door in a more hands on method. Rhys question has her grumbling. "Yeah I think the hostage is one of the homicide detectives that was definitely not on Reyes' payroll. Wilkinson I think is her name."

Itzhak growls, "Ah, Jesus," at news of who the hostage is. He glances at Rhys. Then, though Rhys probably wasn't suggesting this in any way, pulls the phone back out and calls back whoever's on the other end. Himself, he's geared up as he ever gets--no form of gun is his weapon of choice.

Joey waits and stares Neil down, satisfied he nods slowly, "Alright, let's see about what we got. Neil, grab a fucking gun. Waving your dick at these assholes is not gonna make them drop and run." The kid doesn't have to be told twice but nears the pile and looks to Rhys not knowing WHAT to grab. He washes cars and pockets change!

"Let's check our exits. Vic, how's it looking out there right now? Itzhak...be you." Joey pulls out his phone to shoot off a text real fast and points out, "That glass ain't fuckin bullet proof."

"FUCK! The guy you called was the one in the Civic, he just shot Craig!" Vic calls back. Well fuck that guy, he isn't driving his ass out of here. She narrows her eyes and her whole body thrums with Glimmer as she reaches out and RIPS the fucking steering wheel clean off the shooter's car.

What? Wait-- what? Rhys stares for a moment as Vic's gun just floats in the air, and he glances around briefly to see whether the others are seeing this too. Which... no? No one else? And when he looks back, the gun's in Vic's hand. O... kay. Hallucinations, just the way to start this all out. Or-- maybe she actually just set it down there and it was a trick of the light. That's gotta be it. He settles down a touch, focus flowing almost eagerly into dealing with what currently definitely is real.

Wilkinson? Rhys is aware of her, yeah. He nods, a touch thoughtful, and eyes Neil back. "You ever shot anything before?" he asks, and given options, he slides his pistol away again and snags a rifle himself. Hey, he wasn't planning on a firefight today and they're a lot harder to carry concealed. Neil gets whatever strikes him as the easiest to use regardless of answer, frankly, 'cause if the ki-- okay he's only a couple years younger, if the guy really knew what he was doing, he wouldn't be giving him that look to start with. That shot pops off and Vic makes her exclamation, and Rhys sighs again. "Bad choices." He moves to check the other exit, himself.

Itzhak stuffs the phone into his pocket. Whoever's on the other end ain't playing. "Craig you stupid son of a bitch." It's a growl. "What did you fucking think was gonna happen. Tell 'em that God's gonna shut 'em down."

A crisp snap of his fingers and outside, the other SUV makes a horrible noise as its struts give way. CRUNCH. Yeah that's not going anywhere either. "Sorry boys. We're not stuck in here with you. You're stuck in here with us."

Neil waits for Rhys to give him... something. Some direction here. He stuffs part of his bagel in his mouth because while this kinda blows? he's still kinda fuckin hungry. He shakes his head, "Playing Time Crisis at the theater yeah?" That so doesn't count. He takes the pistol with him and follows Rhys eager to get out of there. Neil has a shimmer and for those that hear the bend in glimmer there's a M&M danger candy shell around the valet just a bit.

There's a nod and Neil runs to the back door of the dance studio. He throws the door open and there's a TOO loud PAK! and Neil is slammed against the door hitting the ground. The second one comes in just above Rhys' shoulder PAK PAK PAK PAK PAK! Gunfire bears down on Rhys at the back door and lucky? The gunman really did expect him to be taller. It's a good day to be 5'4"

Vic jerks back on instinct, and a bullet slams into the steel frame around the door. "SNIPER!" she hollers.

It's all Joey needs to hear. He swings by the front desk, crouches bracing his shoulder into it, UP and shoves the thing over to make a solid oak bulwark. They're coming in from the back door. There's a LOUD flash by Vic's head just as she pulls the door closed. Joey's gun is out . Holy shit there's like 7 guys and at least one of them has the shine. Welcome to open fire season! This is the time on Sprockets where we are at a bit of a dis advantage.

That so does not count. Rhys goes with the closest pistol to point-and-shoot available and a murmured, "Don't aim at anything you don't wanna kill, and don't rest your finger on the trigger when you're not aiming." Call it a crash course. A couple steps doorward and Neil's running past him, with just enough time for, "Wait, you don't--" before the kid (sigh) throws it open like that and the accountant suddenly gets another item to put in the 'reasons being tall is overrated' list.

"Shit!" he exclaims, ducking aside and kicking the door shut again, or at least giving it a damn good go. "Incoming, several!" He grabs the fallen Neil roughly by the clothing and drags him along behind the nearest half wall for cover. Is the kid okay? He'll have to check later: now is for at least attempting to kill some motherfuckers while they're slightly bottlenecked by the door.

Vic is not diving behind cover. Instead the tall blonde is moving to cover Joey's position from the doorway to the men's changing room. She grunts as a bullet grazes her leg, and she fires a shot into one of Reyes' thugs who was aiming at Itzhak. BLAM! The Glock spits lead, and the guy goes down with a gaping whole in his stomach where the bullet hit.

Itzhak's brass knuckles gleam on his left fist. DOWN, says the ink on that hand. Teeth bared, grinning savagely, probably telling himself something about how he will be your shield, he launches at one of the bastards and SLAM he crunches ribs and punches in sternum and that guy's down. Then bullet are indeed in love with him, one kissing his arm and one landing thud in his own sternum. He's thrown back, stunned, a beautiful flower of blood blooming from his chest.

But he gets up. He gets up. Spiderman always gets up.

"Motherfuckers," he rasps, a horrifying sight, "now you made me mad."

Rhys is small and he's fast, and a good thing too because he's a whole lot less fast dragging a body along that's bigger than he is. It's probably the main reason he even makes it to cover at all, and that may be why the first bullet that comes his way misses, just barely whizzing past him. He drops into a position to shoot in a movement that's clearly been made many times, and practice pays off; the aim is true, right into the chest of one of the invaders, a solid hit that drops him where he stood. It leaves him slightly exposed, however, and one of the others manages to take advantage of that, a bullet catching the side of his head. The angle's a lucky one for him, but there's quite a lot of blood and probably one of the worst headaches he's ever had, just for starters. He wobbles back behind the wall, taking a focusing breath before the next shot.

Joey grinds his teeth frowning and working on breathing slowly through that gut wound. YUP. that stings. His phone rings and bending his arm in the sling (cause fuck his arm isn't' broken he's got a healing chest wound and he was SUPPOSED to not be over doing it) he sees the number and answers the phone.

"Baby can't talk... Yeah it is... Nah, it's only a little bit of gunfire." He lets the next round go off timing it, "In the parking lot don't come here.... no It's not my fault this time!... Yes I'll get em if they fuck up your windows." More shots hitting the oak bulwark. "I'll be careful. Gotta call you back. Love you too." Phone drops into the sling pocket and he growls, "Itzhak stop dyin and get them." Yes, he's concerned.

Vic is still standing her ground. She levels her Glock at another thug, this one aiming at the already bleeding accountant, and pops off a shot that tears through his chest and drops him. She's repaid for it by getting hit by the sniper outside, and she can feel one of her lungs collapsing. To add insult to injury two more shots go through and through, one in the same spot, and another under the other collarbone. By some act of sheer will, she remains standing, blood starting to leak from her nose and mouth as well as her chest. Blood is spattered all over the wall behind her, even as she turns and levels her weapon along the trajectory fired by the Sniper who railed her.

That one...that one had the Song, and Itzhak's power slips off him. Itzhak collapses to one knee, hand clamped to his chest, sucking wind desperately--then he looks up with murder in his green-gray hazel eyes. Like agate would look when it wants to put you in the fucking ground, his eyes. He rasps something in Yiddish--and then he's going for the biggest one again. Because he never fucking learns. Blood, his own and the other men's, flies from him.

Did Joey just take a call?! If Rhys had time to boggle, he would. That goes on the agenda for later. Assuming, of course, there's a later. Handily, at least they don't have to put killing Craig for this on that agenda too? The accountant bleeds, but his aim's still true; this time, the chest that receives it doesn't go down, though. Bleeding, but standing. This will still need to be fixed. He's quiet, forcing his focus on what he's doing and what's around him and as much as possible not on the pain in his head.

Joey is gritting his teeth trying to focus. People are... not dead. Cool. Yes he took a fucking phonecall. He's not about to let Nicole drive into a fucking firefight to create a endangerment situation... or put new-newholes in his car. There are fewer baddies and while he's struggling with arm in a sling and a brand new gut wound he's popping up from cover firing at the asshole with the rifle trying to unload on him. Is this how he got High School Gym Coach of the Year? Huh! Maybe Gray Harbor has a very different system here?

WHY. DO. THEY. KEEP. SHOOTING HER. IN THE BOOBS!? Vic takes another shot to the chest, more blood splatters on the wall behind her, and leaks from her nose and mouth. She's wavering on her feet now, full of holes, but she doesn't drop. She slumps against the wall, and pulls the trigger, slamming a shot into the chest of the Sniper, neatly lining up with the one Ruiz put there, dropping the asshole. She is looking less than good as her weapon turns to level at the thug who put the newest hole in her pretty lace bra. SHE JUST BOUGHT THAT, DAMMIT!

August eyes Ravn, nods his agreement. He sees Ruiz and his people going in, and gives Ravn a once over. "Well, if you're going in there, you need both your legs." This is the entirety of the warning Ravn gets before his leg jump starts the healing process. It's an odd feeling, rushing through what would have been a few days of getting knitted up. Maybe not even a good one. But, hey--Ravn can put weight on his leg now.

And with that, August gets up--pale, sweating, ignoring the one hundred memories banging on his mind's front door, wanting a word with him about urban warfare, and follows Ruiz and company.

The second his eyes land on Itzhak, bloodied and going hand to hand with a mountain of a man, he kind of loses it. Or it feels like he does, and he knows his knife won't be remotely sufficient, so doesn't even think about that. He just reaches in, finds that guy's heart, and gives it a good, solid squeeze. He can't bring himself to tear it apart, but maybe that's for the best. And anyways, Itzhak and Byron have it covered. He turns away, coughing, eyes streaming.

Ravn limps after the others because -- well, because he's stupid, probably. He's a civilian and he's already been shot once, but there are people in danger and maybe it's all the way down on the genetic level for him; some silly notion about noblesse oblige. Either way his gaze is drawn by a movement atop the Patisserie -- and he reaches out with his power to try to --

-- take another bullet. The Dane murmurs a small "For fanden da også!" as he folds on himself. That was definitely not a leg wound. Maybe he should just stay down now and focus on deflecting any more hot lead coming his way. At least I've got enough bullets in me for a pair of matching earrings now?

Cecil picks up a pistol from one of the fallen goons as he follows the others to the dance studio, and he holds it just like they taught him to at the firing range. He blanks his mind, steps in, and squeezes the trigger just so. When the thug is hit, there's some part of Cecil's mind reeling over the fact that he just shot another human being, but he doesn't let it get to him. Another step forward, poised to fire off another shot.

Reluctant to leave Lilith behind to be carted away by some ambulance, Byron joins the others, having this desire to help crush Reyes' people before they further destroy their tranquil... no... peaceful..... not that either. Before they further try to destroy Byron's god damned home town, which if you asked him, he might not mind if it all burned up in flames at some point. But that some point isn't today! He has several big investments in this place.

Thanks to Lilith and Ruiz, he knows that Joey is somewhere in this mess, so that's the guy he's looking for once they burst through the door. On spotting Joey, he also takes notice of a thug who seems to be gunning for his childhood friend. Not on Byron Thorne's watch! Arcing out a stream of electricity, everyone else seems to want to protect Coach Kelly as well, and when the dust finally clears the Heavy is downed.

Joe goes storming in - unarmored, unarmed with nothing more than pistol and Glimmer. At least until he simply wrenches the rifle right out of one of the thug's hands.....just in time to take a wound in the chest that punches him right over in a spray of blood. But he's not down for the count. No, he's struggling up and bringing the rifle to his shoulder. That wound has earned payback with interest.

Itzhak is dancing with the fucker, getting in too close for him to use his gun, laughing and snarling like a madman. "Ya too slow! Ya TOO--FUCKIN--SLOW!" and his Song billows like a sail snapping taut with wind and he sends those brass knuckles in again, his arm gored to the elbow, his other hand clamped to his chest, and

CRAK

Armor and bones shatter. And Itzhak isn't done, because he's dimly realized a lot more people are in here and Joe just got shot and it's that bastard he's going after next. After he pulls his fist out from the guy's chest cavity. Unstoppable, sheet-white with blood loss, he's a sight as he goes after the next enemy like an enraged beast.

Joey can see it. Now granted Vics here to protect him however, he's also not Felix Monighan. the world's angriest coach steps up and starts to make a sideways break from cover to put himself and that shimmer shield between he and Vic. He's counting on Itzhak and Rhys to keep doing what they do best. It's all a bit overwhelming. And then?

The cavalry arrives? Sweet merciful crap the very citizens they've been trying to leave out of this shit are coming to the damn rescue? And there's Byron angry as shit right there up front. Aww, it's like high school. August and Ravn do not look in good shape at all. Not okay. Night-Him rips the gun from his assailant's hand. From here the flipped oak table is more the consistency of a big block of matches. It was good, but the wear across it is... impressive. "Vic do not fucking die on me. You have hazard pay not a goddamn life insurance policy." Which is Joey is just bleeding with sentiment today.

Things are not looking particularly great in here, frankly. The last of the ones that seem focused on him goes down, and Rhys darts halfway out of cover to get a shot off at one of the remaining men before he tries to drop back into place. Blood is still streaming down the side of his head, pale skin a bit paler than usual, but he moves with quiet focus -- though the focus is briefly broken by the front door bursting open. His rifle aims that way for a fraction of a second before he recognizes the arrivals and makes an assessment that they probably count as their own 'backup' right now. It doesn't take much when they start attacking the right people. He winces as someone apparently strikes a light fixture or something for that blast of electricity, but as long as it isn't continuing? The guys who want to put more bullets into the hometeam are a bigger worry.

Ravn has no idea who these guys are, or for that matter, what the hell is going on. The one thing he does realise is that staying down is wise, but staying down not in the middle of the floor is probably wiser yet. He gets up long enough to shuffle off to the side to find an unoccupied corner to sink down into and generally just try to stay conscious and not attract any attention. Fancy that, it's a little hard to breathe and his chest feels like it's a little bit on fire. Now is a good time to let other people sort things out for a bit.

"I'm too stubborn to die, Kelly," Vic mumbles out. There is a nasty gurgling noise when she speaks, like her lungs are filling with blood. The appearance of the suits has her turning her gun towards them, especially the one who looks like the boss. She wants to put so many bullets in his head, it would rattle like a soda can full of pennies, but she waits on Joey for his call.

Joey isn't fucking budging from where Vic is bleeding behind him. The High School Gym Coach looks from Reyes and back to Ruiz. Is that disappointment? Yes it is. the pistol rolls in his hand and he sloooowly sets it down. Looking to Reyes, "Puedo esperar por siempre, cabron." He has been practicing that one with Duarte, believe it. He still may have asked for a pony for all he knows but it's the delivery that matters.

Neil's fingers move and find Rhys' pant leg with a cough. Is he trying to still reach for the bagel on the ground? Dear lord! No, no it really does seem to be a clinging to something safe.

Someone is coming in and calling for everyone to stop, and somehow...it works. So August takes this chance to move towards...Joe. Because he has a pretty good idea who this is, and while Itzhak is in rough shape and Ruiz is getting winnked at, Joe, well, Joe has an entirely different history with this man than anyone else in the room. Is he going to stop him from doing anything stupid? Or stand by him in solidarity? Hard to say.

Improbably, Reyes's advent is greeted by a smile from Joe. That lazy, good ol' boy smile, only partially visible behind the rifle. For he hasn't lowered it. No, he's sighted in on Reyes like the man's a ten point buck dumb enough to have wandered up to his tree stand. But the smile doesn't reach his eyes; they're full of anger and fear and something like madness. "Heeeeyy there, baby, you 'member me? Man, I been waitin' to see you again," Even his voice is that languid drawl. "I owe you some quality time. We gonna spend a while together, I think." Nevermind the spreading stain on the dark shirt, the pallor of that long face.

Cecil's first instinct is to train his pistol on the boss, but then he lowers his arm and looks around, looking for Ruiz, specifically, trying to figure out what to do. He turns and walks away, looking for something he can use as cover. He's not too worried. Not one goon has noticed him in this fight, even when he's shooting them.

Itzhak's wheezing horribly. The reason why he's got one hand sealed over his chest is obvious now that everything's come to a halt. He is spattered and soaked in blood from stubbly scalp to boots. But he is on his feet, the stubborn asshole, at least for now. It seems like he might not be standing too much longer, the way he's groping for a wall to hold himself up. "A...bad...Dream....on you, chazzer," he whispers, not able to get any more breath than that. He looks an absolute fright and like he really should not be standing up. Blood continues to soak through his clothes.

Vic is not the only one here with the urge not to put this on pause for the newly arrived, and Rhys can't even 'see' the shine the others will catch on the newcomers. If they don't happen to get hit by any bullets going that direction on their way in, so what? He's been not hit by plenty of bullets going his way, although not quite as many as he wishes, particularly right now. Don't aim at anything you don't wanna kill, and he hasn't lowered the rifle.

Does the tug on his pants make a difference? Maybe. It's a surprise, for sure, and while the gun still doesn't lower, it might now be more in defense. For a moment, at least. Joey's call on whether there's a chat in that moment; he spares half a glance to try to assess how alive the kid still is.

Once the group take down one of the bigger threats in the room, Byron quickly seeks out his next target as he moves in to check up on Joey and the others. "Jesus, Kelly. Guess you didn't have time to send out an S.O.S." It's a good thing that this was taking place in an already crowded section of town with brave souls being lured into this war by their quest for learning which seeds are best to plant in the PNW soil come Spring.

Joey didn't look good at all, but he was standing. His gaze lands on Itzhak and Vic and then Joseph, only then realizing that Cavanaugh was struck by what he figures was a bullet. This couldn't be over, now could it? With so few enemies left standing.

And of course, it's not. In comes another group, his dark gaze flickering over at the trio, though it's the man in the center, the Boss, who he focuses in on. That must be Reyes. He wasn't a cop nor a criminal... Ahem, just an innocent bystander, right? What contempt he might feel for his invading cartel, he does very little to hide this fact.

The text from Joey came at the most inopportune time for Seth as he wasn't in a position to leave right away, but as soon as he could he piled himself into his '68 Cobra and tore ass through the streets of Gray Harbor at breakneck speed towards the dance studio. Screeching his car to a halt behind the dance studio that the crew is holed up in, Seth exits the car and draws his pistol as he makes way into the back door, gun lowered as he sneaks in from the back.

Itzhak has eyes for just one man. Reyes. He's whispering while something mewls in his chest, under his palm. What is he whispering, his green-gray eyes locked on Reyes as if he can see nobody else in this room, as if he wants to devour him, as if he's in love? Is it a Yiddish curse, or an order for him to fuck off to whatever hole he crawled out of, or asking him to spare his boyfriend, let de la Vega come home?

Nope. It's Johnny Cash. "Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What's done in the dark will be brought to the light..."

and Itzhak spits blood at Reyes's shiny shoe. Splat. The Song roars silently to life, grabbing everything on the man that can be grabbed--clothes, shoes, what's in his pockets, jewelry, the dirt under his goddamn fingernails--and pins him in place, a coffin that fits just right.

Vic jolts at the gunshot, and her eyes snap to watch the thug drop, then to Ruiz and his (literally) smoking gun. She senses Itzhak's power ramping up, and she adds to it with her own, holding Reyes in one spot, making sure the fucker can't run away or shoot anyone in retaliation. She also makes sure her Mover ability grabs hold of that damned laptop case, because evidence, yo.

crunch

Seth curses to himself as he steps on a broken piece of mirror that he neglected to see. But none of that matters now as a gunshot rings out, and Seth bypasses the need for stealth and makes his way into the studio proper, gun still down but ready to draw up at a moment's notice as he tries to get a bead on what is gooing on.

Joey is breathing hard, but he looks up briefly from Reyes to Byron and tilts his head trying to keep his words even. "Well.. date lunch for you an' Lil... be rude." And now all the kings in the court meet. Joey's squared up with this asshole and is about to have some words with him for his condesending tone...and then he kills his valet.

There's a moment. Unlike Felix he's not just going to put a bullet in him and be annoyed. For as much of a thug Joey Kelly is truthfully? He gives a shit about his fucking people and that fucking stings. It's when Ruiz doesn't shoot at him though that there's a huge conflict of feelings that are pure fury.

Reyes pinned to the floor (Surprise cocknocker!) Joey looks at Ravn injured but helping, and back to Byron actually and there is a very short, important conversation in that glance. Looking back to Ruiz his fist loosens and Joey shakes his head. "You know, I can't teach sportsmanship to my guys on Monday if I hit someone while they're down." There's a pause and too*casually he says, "I'm sure *other Joe would really like to have a word with you though." He looks to Cavanaugh with a nod.

Maybe that electrical pulse thing before should've been more of a worry. It's that same crackle and scene of ozone before poor Neil goes still beside Rhys, the grasp on his jeans leg going limp. The accountant's jaw shifts, a flicker of a glance toward the now-still body beside him, but the rifle doesn't. It stays aimed at Reyes, and even without knowing just how directly at-fault the guy actually is for the death of the kid beside him, the urge to pull that trigger is strong. He was a decent soldier, though, and this situation's Joey's as far as he's concerned, so he waits for a signal. Or at least a reasonable excuse, from the point of view of the un-magical.

August doesn't flinch when one of Reyes' men goes down in a single shot between the eyes, doesn't hardly react to much of anything, really. He's focused on making sure Joe doesn't get crazy. And so he doesn't notice that panic descending over him until he's in its grip; this man is going to kill them all, sooner of later. He doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything. And two deaces ago he swore to never let another person like that act freely. Not under his sight. Of course he also swore not to get involved, but that ship has sailed and sunk off the coast of Florida.

He grabs for what he knows--Reyes' spine. He could break it, snap it, twist it...if only he could get hold of it. But he can't. Because he's panicking? Because this man's a monster? He's not sure.

Watching Reyes basically fry whoever he had in his clutches, Byron's not completely sure at this moment, that's enough to tell the dark-haired entrepreneur that the guy's got Mental abilities same as him. But how powerful was he? As a businessman, he was of the mind to perhaps listen to what Reyes had to say, but knowing that he was a manipulator as well, that idea is tossed out the window quickly.

Then, out of the blue, something was going on. First, there was the loud echo of a rifle being fired, one that quickly downs one of Reyes' goons. That's not all that Byron can sense, even if he's not quite sure what's going on, but something was happening to Reyes and from what he can tell, the cartel boss wasn't going anywhere fast. Turning to the others to see if any of them were going to take the kill shot, his dark eyes meeting with Joey Kelly's in the process, he immediately focuses on the sole henchman in case he decided to lash out to protect his Boss. He knows the guy shines, but he he's not even sure what the man does. It didn't matter right now as he reaches into the other's mind to plague him with emotions of pain and twisted anguish. If anything, that should slow him down before he went after anyone who decided to make Reyes their mark.

Unfortunately, someone else is focussed on making Joe get crazy....and Reyes is a hell of a power. Joe's face is contorted with anger, and his finger is tightening on the trigger, when that Glimmer hits him. What little color he has left washes out of his face, leaving him a terrible gray-green. He drops the rifle to its sling, and makes an odd, slewing turn that ends up with his back towards Reyes.....before simply collapsing into a heap. Curling up as if he'd taken another wound.

Cecil has found cover, and he's just not a very intimidating guy anyway, so he's used to going unnoticed. From his hidey-spot, he raises the pistol again, taking careful aim between Reyes' eyes. For now, he holds his shot, but if Reyess makes any sudden moves, he's going to squeeze the trigger.

Joey is trying to be the fucking adult. He looks to Vic. Yup. this guy is... Them. All with Them. Injured or not that rhyme starts and Joey crosses that floor with a wicked left cross ringing his fucking bell leaving the asshole seeing start. "DO NOT fucking talk to my people like that." He pulls back his fist again and looks at Ruiz, jaw clenched. He turns and pats the Police Chief on the shoulder. "He's your problem now. He can go back to jail. I got no fucking interest in the place."

The good news for August (if you can call it that) is something happens to snap him out of trying anything like straight up murdering Reyes, and that's Joe collapsing in his shared panic. Jolted free of that terror, August sinks to his knees next to Joe, holding a hand out but not quite touching him. "It's not real. It's not real. Don't listen to him. He's done--he's not getting out of this." He backs it up with an attempt to soothe Joe, maybe even ward off some of what Reyes is doing. Peace and quiet in a sun-filled, summer glade in the rain forest, far from this ruined Dance Studio stinking of cordite and full of bullet holes and bodies.

Cecil makes eye contact with Reyes, and his finger twitches ever so slightly on the trigger, but then he lowers the gun, and he relaxes. He flicks the safety on the pistol and a small, warm smile graces his features. He keeps watching Reyes, only he doesn't seem to have anything against the guy. Is this a shootout? Because he kind of looks like he's at a party. A really good party, and he's having a great time. He doesn't even really bother hiding anymore. He just gives Reyes a little wave.

With everyone on the attack on Reyes, someone was bound to take him out, right? That's what Byron was hoping for when he went for the henchman instead. However, once it was all over, besides the cartel boss still standing there (not that he has a choice), but no one else was able to get to him, no matter how hard they tried. Not that Thorne could tell, but he'll assume that people were trying something!

Knowing full well what Reyes' capabilities were, at least in regards to his own powers, once the man starts with the verses of a song, that's when his blood ran cold. This wasn't just the mad ramblings of someone outnumbered and outgunned... this was...

Before Reyes could reach out with his mind and cause who knows what damage, Byron looks around the room, at every corner, before he mentally reaches, nullifying the entirety of this space. To many with the shine, the world becomes lighter, perhaps? Quiet maybe? Depending on their powers and how they perceived the world as one who glimmered. This would last for 24 hours, so they had time, but they needed to catch Reyes and his man off guard, before they realize that something was amiss.

"Now!" That's his cue to the others.

Now! says Byron, and as the room goes null, suppressing the Song of everyone within it, Itzhak blinks. He looks around, like he's just now realized something is happening--then he moans a word in Yiddish. "Krasavets..." and then his eyes roll white and he collapses in place like a folding yardstick. Thump.

Vic reaches over, during the cuffing stuff, and grabs Seth's rifle, to make it go bye bye in a bag of holding

Cecil's brow furrows as he looks around. He was feeling so happy, and happy is something he so rarely feels, and now it's like waking up from a dream. Someone shouts 'now!' and then there's gunfire. That jolts him out of his reverie, and he watches Reyes go down. The cops swarm, and he draws back. He doesn't want to be in the way. As the more familiar sense of low-key-yet-constant dread descends over him, he murmurs, "That bastard whammied me."

It was nice and quiet. And while Byron was never one of those mentalists who was plagued by experiencing everyone else's emotions, even while he was still learning to control his powers, the world felt quieter than it normally is. He did his part, it was up to everyone else now. However they wanted to handle this situation. A shot is fired, as he expected would happen, and soon after Reyes is forced back, blood seeping out of his chest.

Good.

He, himself, was still bleeding. His own chest, almost mirroring Reyes' wound. He's then reminded that he had to go. Lilith was being driven to the hospital at this very moment. And before anyone can stop him to ask him questions, like those pesky cops, he's already hurrying out the door.

Joey is taking a step outside to make sure Ravn also gets picked up. maybe to not look at Neil right now. Maybe to not punch his own building or just bleed quietly. Teaching gym is complicated. Living long enough to get back to that part? More so. He watches the chief run past. His team did... pretty excellent all things considered. He needs to text home and one more thing.

(TXT to Ruiz) Joey : We should grab ribs after mine are healed. Talk about what's next.