2021-12-08 - Baby you're a firework

Explosions? It's the sort of thing to draw a restless Alexander, and since he was just over at the park, he's wandering over, looking underslept. His attention goes out to the ice, and there's a frown. It's not aimed at the fireworks, apparently - setting off illegal fireworks is boring crime. But he wanders over to a hill near the pond to keep an eye on the proceedings. He doesn't call out to the teenagers...town weirdoes and teens wanting to prove themselves Cool don't usually mix well. But he's watching.

There's an unmarked cop car parked across the street from the pond, black and spattered with mud like every other car that's had to endure a PNW winter. Trudging along the path that cuts around the pond's outer edge, a sturdily-built man in a battered leather jacket, baseball cap and dark, snug jeans. He's just in the process of shoving some sort of paperwork into his back pocket, and patting himself down for a cigarette when he spots the kids with their cookie sheet and explosives. Eyes narrowed, he slows his pace and veers a little closer.

There's a part of Alexander who absolutely believes that setting oneself on fire is a perfectly good lesson to learn. But when the teens bring out the stake and seem to intend to pound it into the ice, he sighs, and lifts himself up from the cold ground, moving closer to the shore of the lake so that he can be seen out on the ice. "Hey!" Alexander rarely raises his voice, but he can. "You're going to break the fucking ice, you keep that up. They won't find your bodies," he adds, helpfully. He doesn't seem to have noticed Ruiz, yet.

De la Vega's not close enough yet, really, to see exactly what's going on over there. But his shit's going down alarm's going off like nobody's business, so he continues heading in the direction of the teenagers. And Alexander, apparently, once he recognises the other man. Which should surprise him, but really doesn't.

"Goddamn it," Alexander mutters. He also flips the bird right back at that teen idiot. One of these kids has probably egged his house one Halloween. Which doesn't mean he wants them dead...exactly. But does mean that he's not going to let a middle finger be unanswered, like the paragon of maturity that he is. He doesn't step onto the ice, because adding another hundred and eighty pounds of human isn't going to make that ice any MORE stable. He does shout, "Stop fucking up the ice! You are going to fall! Morons!"

Yes, that will CLEARLY make them do what he wants.

Which is roughly the moment when de la Vega ambles on up. Close enough to bellow at the boys, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? No saber ni papa de algo, huh?" Alexander's slid a bewildered glance, as if he should somehow have the answers to these questions. Chances are, those kids'll recognise who he is. Whether they'll give a shit is another matter; though pissing off the Chief of Police may not be great for one's.. well, prospects, period.

Alexander stares at TI3 with an expression that suggests he's never before seen someone quite so stupid in the wild, and is fascinated by his existence. There's a glance at Ruiz as he comes up on side. "Obviously," he snaps back at the kid, but steps back, intending to let the po-po handle it, now. He might be about to explain exactly how sex and parentage work to the kid now that he doesn't feel obligated to try and save them, when that bottle rocket goes to one side and shoots off. Right at him and Ruiz.

"Fuck!" Alexander throws himself to the side with the instinctive motion of someone who has had a lot of things try to kill him, landing hard and inelegantly on the freezing lake shore.

Correction. Make that right at the cop. It's like they planned it that way. One less pig in Gray Harbour, amirite?

De la Vega's usually pretty quick on his feet for a middle aged guy with a desk job, but maybe the sleepless nights and all this mess around the McNeely case and his rumoured corruption are catching up to him. He tries to drop to the ground, but the fucking rocket takes a left turn at the last second and slams right into his thigh as he hits the grass. He bites back a grunt and covers his head as it presumably wings off again in another direction.

Alexander picks himself up just in time to see Ruiz go down, and that bush go fwoom! "Jesus! You okay?" He asks Ruiz, but his attention is drawn out towards the moving teens (never run from anything immortal - or Alexander - because it only draws their attention), and he can't help but notice the kid who isn't getting the hell off the ice. "Shit. Shitshitshit." He licks his lips. "Javier. That kid--" is a bigger priority for him than the burning bush - he's through with that religion stuff, anyway. So he starts to run along the side of the shore to get as close to the kid as possible. "Hey! Hey! Lay down and spread yourself out on the ice. Distribute your weight, you stupid motherfucker!"

He's still very charming.

It all happens so quickly; the bottle rocket hurtling into him, careening off into the bush and exploding. Those idiot kids shouting at each other; some mixture of frantic laughter and terror as they try to get the hell off the pond, and leave their buddy behind in their continuing stupidity. The hiss and crackle of the fire spreading through dry brush, sucking down oxygen, throwing hot sparks into the chill air that sear through yet more brush and cast a hazy glow on the surface of the ice.

Javier doesn't move for a few seconds, the pain's left him in too much shock. It's like he's been transported back to Kandahar again, somewhere in his mind's eye. After a bit, he seems to realise Alexander's talking to him, and swallows thickly, shoving up onto an elbow to take stock of the situation. "I'll put a call in to dispatch," he informs the other man, already going for his phone. His hand doesn't shake, but it's going to hit him later, undoubtedly.

"Don't just--" Alexander bites off the shout...he doesn't need to be an empath to feel the kid's fright. He glances back at Ruiz as the older man starts calling it in, then curses, and turns to check out the undergrowth near the shore. Luckily, that burning bush gives off a lovely, festive glow, so he's able to grab a long, sturdy branch that's mostly straight and fresh-fallen enough to not be rotten.

He makes his way to the shore, and carefully lowers himself to the ice over the shallow water. He slides himself out onto the ice, trying to stay away from the cracks, but still get close enough to push the branch out towards the kid so he can grab it.

Javier, of course, pretty much has a direct line to the dispatcher. The way she flirts with him, they're on pretty good terms, and getting a bus and a fire truck sent out right fucking quick isn't going to be a problem. He's on the line for a matter of moments, and chuckles as he hangs up, and shoves his phone away again.

Then another glance at his injury, which.. while it's nasty looking, mostly amounts to a flesh wound. He hefts himself to his feet gingerly, and grunts as he tries to take his weight on it. "Hey." His fingers are snapped at the two kids lollygagging about nearby, to get their attention. "Get the fuck out of here. I see you again pulling that shit out on the lake, I'll push you in myself, yeah?"

Touching. From a stranger. That Alexander isn't expecting?

That poor kid almost gets yeeted right back onto the ice, but instead Alexander retains just enough presence to just freeze up and tries not to faint as the kid hugs him. All the blood drains out of his face and he starts to shake. But he doesn't hit him, and that's a victory.

It doesn't take long after that for the ambulance and fire truck to roll up, making the ruckus that they do. De la Vega's probably not going to bother to write this one up, though those boys' parents are totally going to hear about this through the town grapevine, and it'll probably be far worse than if he had.