Shaunie Macadden's Story

Ulrich took the knife and nodded, held out cuffs, standard tether style, for Lazarus to slip into at his leisure. Many had witnessed his words, and Ulrich believed in a thing called honor. He switched his weapon to safety but still aimed it at Lazarus as they exited. For show.

Outside a very sturdy hovercraft awaited. Ulrich pocketed his weapon to help Lazarus into the back of the vehicle.

"Alright, time to leave this continent," He had come here for a drug deal, but instead witnessed an arrest. At least nobody had died. The drug deal obviously wasn't happening, and this was a set up. Thank goodness he had the sense to take seat at the bar, instead of the pre-arranged seat at a table for four. From here he could make his leave. Shit, a news crew was here.

Indeed, there was a news crew. In bustled Winne Rineswurth. Her cameraman was close on her heels. They looked around to target a patron to interview, having had caught shots outside already of what they could of the arrest. Lazarus had gone peacefully, and Ulrich had hopped in the back with him. Why was this? Could it be because they were fellow Detente members? Winne planned to speculate, but first: The public's opinion must be known!

Something quacked at the camera, Winne took the opportunity and whirled on them.

"Excuse me!" Winne asked Astraethus, cameraman panning around to get the best angle. "Did you witness the arrest of Lazarus Bistreo?" The cameraman took this opportunity to zoom around the bar, taking in all the potential patrons to be interviewed.

The camera man zoomed in on Astraeus, taking in everything.

"For Murder," Winne proclaimed, "How do you feel about that?" She aimed the mic back, darting her gaze around.

Grinning to himself, he ordered another tea from the adorable waitress, and watched her walk away. Despite weird as hell recent events, things were looking up for the little dealer gang member from a continent far away. He hummed to himself and scrolled through his applications on the phone. He had plenty of games to play, but he wasn't in the mood for that. Oh, he was just so darn excited about this deal he could barely contain himself.

"Thanks," Shaunie smiled as his re-tea was set before him. Wing City was a pretty cool place. That Gambit's Bar was strange, for sure. He heard it shut down, and couldn't help but roll his eyes. It really did figure. Sipping his tea, he resumed phone activities.

He noticed one of the application icons doing something peculiar. It was...blinking. What did that mean? Shaunie stared at it bleakly for a few moments. It was the TERRACAST application, Terra's number one news network. It hadn't ever done that before, at least not to his notice. Then again, he did just get the app yesterday. Thumbing it open, he gasped as an emergency message overtook his screen.

Simultaneously, the television in the corner flickered away from it's serene programming to an emergency broadcast. Shaunie's gut dropped. What the hell was going on in this city. A sharply dressed man appeared on screen.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a special emergency broadcast.
Reports are coming in from across the City as a veritable army of what appears to be cyborgs have flooded out of the business district..."

The report continued to show images of chaos and destruction.

He scrambled from his seat, shrugging on his coat and running for the door. The teahouse had erupted into a panic, as outside screams rolled. He was pushed back from the doors by an upending table, but fell against a window and got a good look outside.

"Holy sh-" Someone was banging on the door, and...He could't even...Words... Snapping to, he watched as the guy panicked on the doors. "Someone let this guy in!" He pushed towards the entrance as surely enough, someone had the sense to open the damned door. Cursing, he pocketed his phone and pat his pockets. Puppy secure. "You aight?"

The Yakuza muscle was shoved aside by Shaunie, "Watch it, man." The gangster told Shaunie, extending a hand out the doorway to gesture Jeremy over. Maybe the young stoner wouldn't be much help if the battle came to the fortified teahouse, but numbers meant a lot in situations like this.

Jackie, who was still in his office, stood from his seat. The Afro-Japanese man adjusted the black suit and red tie he wore, black and red being the official colors of the Red Rain Yakuza on top of being stylish, before heading out into the main room of the teahouse.

"We're going to need a lot of shots." Jackie said loudly to the people present, "We might as well be drunk in our dark hour." The Japanese man told the people, "No drinking for the children, of course." He added, directing his words to the few families that had come to the teahouse earlier in the day for some authentic east Asian cuisine.

Better they be inside than out there with those cannibalistic monstrosities in the shape of human.

"Oh man. Hurry the fuck up. You fucking assholes...You're gonna get me the fuck killed at this rate..." His panic was certainly overtaking him, and being high, surprisingly, wasn't really helping. Did he realize this fact, though? Not at all. He just figured he'd have to try harder. With the spliff betwixt his lips, it was at that moment that the door was wrenched open from inside, just as one of those...'things' had reached out for him. As he fell back, a high pitched combination betwixt a squeal and a scream escaped his lips as he kicked out with his right foot. Fully extended, the sole of his foot struck the underside of one of the things jawline, reeling its head back until an audible crunch was heard. He'd broken its neck, completely and utterly, by mistake. Not that it was a bad thing. But as he rolled over and crawled in, he could still see the thing moving. As it turned, he barely made out it's tilted head and a single eye glaring at him before the door was forced shut again.

Again. He nearly pissed himself as a whimper of sheer terror left him. He cheefed his spliff again, and adjusted his gaze to see others inside, some huddled in masses, others drinking themselves stupid, who wouldn't? But, for the most part, he saw absolutely no one brandishing any sort of weapon, aside from the thug looking motherfuckers with guns and whatnot. Screw that. He'd probably get shot for this, but he needed something aside from his arms and legs. Those bastards bit. And if you were bit, you were as good as dead yourself.

"Fuck this shit! You're all fuckin' crazy..." He mumbled, grabbing the nearest chair. Stumbling to lean over it, he wrenched and twisted at one of the legs, trying to pry it off. He didn't give a rats ass if the thing was some high priced Oak or Ash or Cherry. Of course, his little scrawny arms weren't doing him much good at the moment, nor were his trembling hands. "God. Fucking. Damn it." He spat out, forcing a foot against it until a satisfying splintering could be heard. Finally, a crack and a snap, and he had a semi descent bludgeoning weapon in hand. Of course, it wasn't very durable, and wouldn't last long if those fucking things came through the windows, but it'd by him some time to slip through the back or, worst case scenario, up. The last thing he wanted to do was go up. Unless the buildings on either side were around the same height, up was pretty much suicide. Either you died by them, or you jumped.

"You people in the corners. Grab something. Ain't you ever seen a fuckin' zombie flick before? You're all the ones who die first!" He rattled off, taking his own seat some distance from the door, but in a perspective to where he could watch shit. Again, another spliff was pulled from his pack and lit. Hopefully, they didn't mind the odorous stench that wafted from his area. If they did. He'd tell them to fuck off anyway.

Drinking. Yeah. He could go for a shot of something strong. It'd definitely intensify his high. Shit. He'd even pay for it. Nothing's on the house. Everyone deserves their piece. Reaching into his pocket, he thumbed back a single five dollar bill and slipped it out onto the table. "Liquor sounds alright. Give me the strongest thing this'll get me..." He began before thinking to himself. Five dollars wouldn't get much. He needed intensity. Fuck it. He retracted his hand, and the five, only to return with a twenty. "Screw it. Try this instead."

"You've got to be kidding me. You've got to be kidding me!" Fedelia stomped out of the kitchen after watching the report, slamming the palm of her hand onto the door frame. "This had to happen today? Of all the days!" She threw her hands up in the air, huffed, and dumped herself into a booth.

"I was going to get my hair done, I was going to go to a spaaaaa...I had plans to see Rick tonight! Oh, it's been ages, and then everything goes to shit!" she whined. There was a long pause from her as some of the customers she had earlier served stared.

"...uhh. I mean...would anyone like anything else? We have lots of food left, of course! And tea and alcohol!" she chirped, standing back up. Everyone just resumed to their previous worrying. It was barely a matter that their previously cheery, charming elven server was actually a brat at heart.

With a sigh, Fedelia just leaned against the booth, looking at the chaos outside. She still had her porting bracelet, sure, but she could only port as far as she could see. The elf shook her head.

And then! And then came this dude. The stoner. The fucking stoner. He started breaking furniture apart, which had Fedelia getting up to scold him. Someone stopped her, a hand on her shoulder. She looked back at a woman with wildly colored hair, giving her a small smile. She patted Fedelia's shoulder and strode past her.

The woman was a tall and slender, younger than Fedelia, with a very intriguing look about her. Her hair was long to her waist, but the left side of her head was shaved and dyed in purple leopard spots. She wore a short, casual, loose red dress that was intensely, but fashionably baggy around her thin body. She walked right past Shaunie to the stoner.

"I can understand you must be frightened, but immediately vandalizing that which belongs to the restaurant might not be wise, yeah?" she said softly. "You could have asked these gentlemen, here-" She gestured to Jackie and his men, "-if they had anything. Perhaps even this one-" She pointed to Shaunie.

"I'm fine with it." Jackie told the woman, "As long as he doesn't make a habit out of it." The Yakuza boss said, looking to Jeremy, "You should calm down. Take a chill pill, as they say." The Afro-Japanese man told Jeremy.

"We'll be fine. Nothing to worry about. I've got a gun, he's got a gun, everybody's got guns." Jackie told the people in the teahouse, "You... and you." He said, pointing to Fedelia and Jeremy, "Not sure about giving you two guns. Maybe if I got desperate." Jackie said.

The Yakuza leader walked across the room and plopped down in his usual booth as he did on most days, only this time things weren't running as smoothly as they usually did. Everyone who bolted was probably dead, he heard explosions and gunfire/ He wasn't sure if that meant the good guys were winning, or just wasting ammo.

Jackson was worried, but in a room of scared people he had no time to show them anything but confidence in the face of danger.

Shaunie slinked back as he was shuffled along, his breath catching as he caught sight of whatever the fuck that was outside. Zomborgs. Commotion and murmers spread as the kid who entered, smoking, began to destroy furniture in the sake of a weapon. He drew his own small pulse once the shock of the situation stopped muddling his thoughts.

Shots? The gun was in his hands as someone called for alcohol. Yep, this place was going to hell, and he wasn't even supposed to be here still. It would figure. It would really figure.

"Huh?" Someone, a girl, had pointed to him. Why? Why was she pointing to him? Why were they looking at him? Shaunie looked to the gun, realizing why she was pointing at him by the time they had looked away. People were starting to settle in as alcohol was dispersed, he found a hot sake in the hand opposite the gun. He knocked it back, sidling over to the stoner who seemed to know what he was doing.

"Mind if I?" Shaunie jerked a chin at the spliff, reaching into his shoe to unearth a thick switchblade. He held it out to Jeremy for trade. Hey, it was the end of the world, right? Weapons for high? If things got desperate, Shaunie considered pawning puppies for ammo.

"Oh, yeah, like I'm totally going to sit here without an object to defend myself with." Jeremy quickly snarked out. Fuckin' rude ass people. He didn't give a fuck who owned this joint, and what their precious furniture cost them. "Look. I could give a fuck less about how often you people go through this shit. I'm not from around here. I haven't been here but maybe three months. I'm not from around these parts, if you hadn't already noticed." He quipped, looking off toward the lady that had, in somewhat of a polite way, insulted him to a degree. "Where I come from, this shit doesn't happen. We make movies about this sort of thing. People don't live. Some people are cocky and say they'll be aight, they'll just go shoot 'em up. Well. It don't work like that. Maybe here it does, what with you crazy vampires, and super hero's, and mages and shit. But, I'm a normal guy. I don't have anything going for me. I smoke weed. I make bank off of dealing. I eat, smoke, eat some more, deal, and sleep. That's my routine. I ain't got time for no ones shit. I'm not about to die." He finished, taking another hit off of his spliff. By now, he was ready to break out the pipe.

Turning toward the mob member, he understood the concept of 'shut the fuck up' in a polite manner, though. The guy had a gun. It didn't change the fact he was any less uneasy. There were hordes of mechanical face eaters out there. Who could be calm in that sort of fucking situation? But, he wasn't about to have one put between his eyes, either. "Look man, I understand. Sorry if I'm fucking up your mellow, but seriously. You guys got the guns. I don't doubt you know how to use them. But, reality check. If those things come through the windows, you think your small group of dudes can hold off those things? They're like rabbits fucking. They bite you, you turn. So, don't expect to come out on top in that aspect...unless you all have some sort of super human powers." He softly chimed out. Yeah, telling a guy like that what was up probably wasn't the smartest, most ideal, thing to do...but, seriously. They had to at least understand some part of what he was saying. Badass, or not, in a situation like this, you aim to stay alive.

Stay alive.

"I wouldn't be much good with a gun, to be honest. Never used one. Probably simple enough, though. Safety off. Make sure one's in the chamber. Point. Shoot to kill. Never aim at something you don't intend to shoot at. Beyond that, no idea." He mumbled. To be honest, having one probably would be a good thing. He'd actually feel more comfortable with one. But, then again, he had no plans to use such a thing unless necessary. Again, he was a nerd. He smoked, and watched flicks. He'd seen plenty of Zombie movies. Noise attracted some in some movies. Others, they were outright retarded and you could get away with a lot of shit. This didn't seem like the latter scenario though.

"Any chance you all have some sort of escape tactic, in case this place becomes a chow town? I don't plan on cowering in the nearest shitter waiting to die. Going up is probably a stupid move too. Unless you don't mind splatting on the pavement when you have no where else to run." He mentioned aloud. It was around that time he realized his call for alcohol had gone unanswered. Fuck 'em. He didn't need it anyway. They were all to busy doing what most people did in these situations, of course that was taken from the movies he'd watched. Quick to snap, and little planning and getting along.

At the point Shaunie, to his side, piped up, he saw the knife and studied it for a brief moment. It appeared of reasonable size, but it was just what it was. A switchblade. He didn't plan on getting that close to one of those sons' a bitches again if he had any say so. But, a weapon was a weapon. He'd gladly take it, and keep his chair leg to boot. "I don't give a fuck. It's here to be smoked, man." He rattled off, opting to give the guy his own spliff rather than share the one he had. Taking another drag, he flicked his zippo and held it out to the guy so he could light before reaching out and taking the knife. "So, what put you in this shitty situation? You seem like the kind of guy that has more important shit to do than die in a tea house."

"Wan'ed som' go'ammed 'ea," Shaunie muffled out from behind the spliff as he puffed it in. Just what he needed right about now, hot sake or no. It was true, he had come for the tea. Now he stayed for the survival. They had warned him about this back at home. Going to Wing City is like signing your own death cirtificate. He hadn't believe them. He wanted to see the world.

Yeah well I was stupid, The young man pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, eyeballing up the fellow drug dealer. It seemed like they both got served up a steady plate of wrong place wrong time. With almost half a smile, Shaunie continued on after his exhale.

"Been here like what, two weeks? Some vacation," He rolled his eyes and drew from the spliff again. After another moment's contemplation, and out of complete curiosity, he asked, "You stashin' or sellin'?"

Shaunie looked up from being engrossed in his cellphone at the newcomer and smiled. He was still alive in Wing City, and that was more that cause to be friendly. Besides, it wasn't often other young people came about. They might want to buy something.

"'Sup?" He nodded to Dan 'Luck' Zaroof.

Meteor , having no way truly communicate it's intent, took a wide and slow arc, meaning to form an eventual shape

VAPORIZE observes and pontificates

Shaunie Macadden received a message on the comm channel of the ship- he wasn't expecting anything from this part of space. With a raised brow he flopped aside his magazine and tapped the button to respond.

Meteor continues forming the shape, a great smile in the sky ending in a widening point.

VAPORIZE smiles at Shaunie while sublty reaching for his weapon just in case

Shaunie Macadden picked up the strange movements of a distant object. What...in the... Yeah, this was weird. Nothing-literally nothing- was supposed to be out this way. Peace?

He squinted at the comm and quickly tapped it again.

VAPORIZE exclaimed out of character