Starring:
Summary: Poor, white Moxie ends up in the Badlands and has to deal with a couple of bad dudes.
Date It Happened: December 4, 2001
Wrong Turn
The Badlands
The Badlands. Not exactly the best place to be… at any time of the day. Well, it is currently night time and that just makes The Badlands of Los Angeles, that much more dangerous. Not that anyone would really be caught dead in this part of town at this dark hour. It's not even late… but the lack of sunlight makes the walls move and the shadows follow any poor soul that may find themselves traversing this dangerous street-scape.
Here and there, are clumps of people. Homeless? Dirty? It could be any different number of street types that don't seem to be paying attention to anything more than themselves. Life down here in the Badlands sucks and every clump of people within this bad part of town knows and embraces it. Lucky them.
Moxie, having been out chasing at dead ends again, finds herself frustrated as she marches her way along the cracked and broken pavement. She kicks at a bit of rubble lying on the road, sending it crashing into the side of a metal garbage can with a satisfying bang. She lets out a huff of breath, blowing her hair up from her forehead as she jams her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Scowling down at the ground, she's not paying any more attention to the world around her than its paying to her. Of course, any sensible person, let alone a girl her age, should be far away from this place by now. Sensible just isn't in her dictionary these days.
"Wrong turn?" The voice that comes at Moxie's ears, is coming from a direction that probably shouldn't have anyone there. But by the time she takes a look and looks back, she'll find that a couple of nicely dressed young men are standing in her path. Smiling and maybe even looking a bit… out of place themselves. "Because, you sure don't look like you're from around here." Their grins are, pretty out of place too. But at least they're crazy psycho killers, right?
"Oh yeah? And where do I look like I'm from? Beverly Hills?" Moxie snots out, as she pivots on her sizeable heel to give the two weirdos an unimpressed look. Her dad always said that mouth would get her in trouble. "And what are you, the Welcome Wagon?" She's a little wary, but mostly just annoyed at having her storming off interrupted by stupid questions. "Out to make sure a girl doesn't get lonely?" She gives a graceless snort, tossing her hair only to have it fall back down over her eye.
Tad looks at Brad and Brad looks back at Tad. Both of them just seem to be smiling a bit more at the way this girl seems to be talking to them. In fact, it's almost as if they're more happy to see that they've got something fiesty to deal with than anything else. Brad, of course, gets back to the talking as he's the one that's been doing it so much. "Actually, we aren't from around here either." Tad decides to start adding in his own two cents, "Right. We're just here to get a bite to eat."
And that's when the inevitable happens. They vamp out.
Moxie lets out a very loud, very explicit word, stumbling back on her platform soles as she stares at the two in disbelief. "What the hell?" she asks of no one in particular, her eyes wide, panic mounting as this touches at some primal fear deep within. "Screw this, I'm outta here," she announces with finality, waving a hand in their direction, done playing around with these two freaks. She doesn't hesitate, but turns on her heel to face front, to try and stalk off in the direction she was originally going before they interrupted her.
The good thing about being vampires is that there is this thing called vamp speed and that's all that's needed to get themselves in front of her. Or at least that's where Tad ends up. He growls with the hungry feral nature that a demon like himself possesses and he reaches out to shove her right back with vamp strength (also a good thing to have) towards Brad's waiting arms.
Somewhere off to the side, one of the sleeping homeless men seems to shifting in his tattered clothes.
Moxie lets out a shriek of surprise, outrage and fear when Tad manages to scoot in front of her before she can make it more than turn around. She stumbles back at the shove, lashing out with her nails, aiming for the face, the eyes, just like her dad told her back in the day. Go for the eyes or the groin, and since she's too busy falling backwards to get a knee up, the eyes will have to do in this case. "Get off me!" she orders, trying immediately to wrench herself free from the duo, that note of panic swelling in her tone.
Brad is pretty quick with the catching of the Moxie and wrapping of his arms to see if he can't keep her from doing any more damage to Tad's face. The already wrinkled up features are starting to feel the sting of the scratchy nails. Which is not good… for Moxie, at least. Tad snarls and cracks his neck, showing off his fangs as he starts to take a step towards her. "You're gonna' pay for tha-"
POOF!
There's the telltale sound of something being shoved through his back and his disappearance into a cloud of dust is something that kind of explains the whole thing. As the dust falls to the ground and into the wind, the image of Gunn is exposed, as he holds onto the end of his stake tightly. Immediately, a victorious smirk creeps onto his face as he peers at Brad. "Oops. I did it again."
Moxie is in a losing battle against Brad, not possessing any special strength beyond that which her adrenaline gives her. She gives a choked noise of protest as she fights to keep her hands free, to get herself back on her feet and the hell out of here, but try as she might to flail for the surface, she's drowning, going down, and each attempt grows weaker as her muscles begin to tire. And then there's a cloud of dust exploding in front of her and that gets another shriek from the girl, her nerves still on edge. Panic rising again, she tries once more to wrench herself free, throwing her body weight to the side rather than trying to pull herself to her feet this time.
Brad watches his Bro get dusted and his eyes narrow with the anger of a vampire that just watched his Bro get dusted. Which is some pretty real anger. Now then, in the midst of his anger, he has to keep himself holding onto his dinner, just in case he gets to eat. "Stay away from me! I'll kill her!"
Gunn just stands in his place, not really wanting to provoke the vampire or the girl. "Hey. Just relax. Everything's gonna' be alright." is said to the girl, just in case she needs some comforting words. Which may or may not be the case. "Let her go." is the warning given to Brad, even as more of those homeless people seem to get up and pay more attention to the confrontation. Teenage and twenty-something year old homeless people? With wooden stakes? And other archaic weaponry?
In spite of her fear and panic about this situation, Moxie manages a look up at Gunn that pretty clearly expresses the sentiment: 'What exactly is all right about this?' But she doesn't pause for long, still trying to squirm loose of Brad's grip with little noises of protest and frustration, though it starts slackening off as she grows tired. She's almost too busy with her own struggles to notice all the people gathering around, but it does twig somewhere in her subconscious that things just got even weirder, and she mutters another dirty word.
Team Gunn seems to come out of the woodworks from all over the place. From the streets, the walls, the shadows… by the end of this little montage, there's about twelve of them, not including the leader. Which is why Brad's looking more and more fearful for his unlife. His grip on Moxie loosens up a bit, but that's only because he's trying to weigh his options. Not that he actually has many. Meanwhile, of course, Gunn holsters his stake and affixes a firm gaze on the vampire, looking right past Moxie as if she's not there. "I'm not gonna' tell you again."
Brad's hesitation is only about three moments, before he lets go of Moxie with a frustrated push and makes a break for an opening in the circle of hunters!
Moxie falls to the ground as she's shoved aside, the breath forced from her. "Hey!" she protests as being so unceremoniously dumped, not that she isn't grateful, of course. She doesn't stay down for long though, just taking a beat to catch her breath before she scrambles to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself and looking around with wide eyed fear and wonder. She's totally ready to just take off, except she's not quite sure which way to go now. So like a deer in the headlights, she just stands there staring.
Brad doesn't get far, because he's staked as he gets too close to one of the Team Gunn members. It happens so fast it's hardly worth noticing, which is why Gunn is approaching Moxie, keeping his hands where she can see them. Just in case there's some Black Man Stereotypes stuck in her head or something. "You aight?" is asked of the girl, though he's pretty sure she didn't come to much harm. Loser ass vampires.
Moxie manages to tear her gaze away from where Brad has just exploded into a cloud of dust like his brethren, turning to give Gunn that wide eyed stare. She's silent for a long moment as her brain tries to process what he's just said. No a language barrier so much as her brain is too busy going, 'Ohmuhgodohmuhgodohmuhgod' to do much else. "Uh," she finally manages in an uncertain tone, not positive whether she is, in fact 'aight' or not. "What the hell, man?" comes more forcefully a beat later.
Gunn gives the signal to his squad to sweep the area, in true military fashion, before focusing his attention on the white girl once more. "Vampires." he explains, as about as matter of fact and honest as he can be in such a quick moment of truth. "You shouldn't be here." he goes on to say, as if trying to toss her some good advice in the form of How To Stay Alive.
"Vamp-whuh?" Moxie says with a confused frown, as she brushes some hair from where it sticks to the corner of her mouth. Confusion and a lot of thinking this guy is about as crazy as those two … dudes who somehow disappeared into a cloud of dust. She's having some doubts about her own sanity as well. "So where the hell should I be?" she demands to his helpful advice, crossing her arms more tightly around herself now. "Oh my God, I hate this stupid city," she goes on, muttering to herself loudly enough for others to hear.
As Team Gunn disbands to follow orders, the leader finds himself stepping closer to the crazy white girl that's probably in dire need of some direction. "From the looks of ya', I'd say at home with Mom and Dad, watchin' Britney Spears." He then shrugs, cracking a little smile to see if this girl's calmed down enough to joke with yet. "But if you need a safe place to hang, for some reason, I know a place."
Moxie just gives him a scowl. Nope, not ready to joke yet. "You don't know anything about me," she grits out, turning partly away so that he's facing her shoulder - a small move that's pretty effectual for shutting someone out. "Oh, you know a place," she continues in a sarcastic tone. "Like where, your bedroom? Thanks but no thanks, perv." That's gratitude for ya. Though at least maybe she has a reason for being a little grumpy right now?
"Jailbait's not really my thing." Gunn remarks, almost as annoyed as this girl seems. "What I'm talkin' about is the East Hills Teen Center. It's a place where teens can go to keep themselves out of trouble." This bit was said with a little bit of a smirk, considering that the brat caught him off guard with her own burn. "Or from becoming dinner."
"A teen center? Lame," Moxie pronounces it in a derisive tone. "I got a place. What makes you think I don't?" she asks, her tone turning a little too defensive perhaps. Or it could be she's still understandably on edge, her posture protective, jaw clenched tight when her big mouth isn't open cracking wise. Being thus on edge might also explain why she hasn't taken it upon herself to vamoose if she does, indeed, have a place to go.
"Because you're still here." Gunn responds as quickly as he can put together some things about this girl stuck in his mind. What he puts together is nothing that even looks like the it could be something good. He's not the magical one, so he has to do things the old fashioned way: Ask Questions.
"Because some freaks just tried to kill me or something," Moxie explains in a hard tone that might suggest she's more okay with it than she is, if her fractured expression didn't give her away. "But fine, I'm going." She throws her hands up defensively, half-hidden as they are inside her sleeves. "Not like you own the street, but whatever."
"Actually, I do. Name's Gunn." And he's already reaching into his pocket to pull out one of the cards for Angel Investigations and hands it over to the girl. "My offer stands. You can reach me here." Some people are too proud to find themselves in a position where they're going to need something to the effect of assistance from others in a shelter style manner. Gunn just wants to keep their options open.
"You own the street? Funny, you don't look like the government, Gunn," Moxie tosses back at him, even as she's reaching to take the card. It's easier to keep talking, keep cracking wise, not give too much thought to what just happened. "Angel Investigations…" she reads off the card, arching an eyebrow. "You're the weirdest freaking PI that I've ever seen." Then again, how many has she seen in her short life? Whatever her words might say, she tucks the card away in the pocket of her jeans. "Whatever, man. I got it covered." She hitches her shoulders up and draws in a breath, dropping them as she expels it forcefully. "But thanks. I guess. For the save. Vampires. Yeah, right." She rolls her eyes dramatically, following their circuit to swing herself around and start off the way she was going originally, unless he stops her.
Gunn just watches as she takes herself in the direction that she was already headed and he doesn't make a move to stop her. Instead, he motions for another one of his crew to come over to him and he whispers something about making sure she gets out okay. With a nod, the sword carrying individual heads off after Moxie, though he makes sure to keep himself hidden.
