It is time. [open]

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

WHO: Ryan [yayashton] and whoever else wants to kick some demon ass.
WHERE: Close to Broadway.
WHEN: 03/17/09; about noon
WARNINGS: If your character identifies with the word thug, you're prone to singing and possibly attempted harm on Ryan's part.
SUMMARY: In case of an emergency, BREAK DANCE!
FORMAT: You can choose, I mostly just felt like writing.


There were about five of the things currently crawling the city coming down the street. Ryan stopped for a second to consider his options. On the one hand, he had a ticket to the 7:00 showing of Phantom of the Opera. He wasn't going to think about how exactly he'd gotten it, but he had it. On the other hand, these things were probably going to terrorize - dammit, they were already starting and that effectively pushed aside anything Ryan was about to do. Even if the show wasn't for a long while, Ryan still had to go get something to eat and then walk the rest of the way there . . . These things took time!

Time that Ryan had, but still. It was the principle of the matter. Then again, that was probably what he got for going outside when he wasn't supposed to be outside.

Ryan sighed and made a steel rod before walking toward whatever those things were. Actually, ugly. Ugly was what they were. And even though he was opposed to hurting people, Ryan figured that was the only way to do this. A little persuasion couldn't hurt either way though. Taking a deep breath, Ryan started to sing. It was loud enough for the uglies to hear him and it was laced with a very specific message: Hey, you thugs! Join me in this number.

"It's time to fulfill my purpose in life.
We are born with a destiny.
It's time to accept my calling -
To go on a ravenous killing spree!"

The uglies were struggling with the suggestion, Ryan could see it. It was about twice as powerful as his normal suggestions because he was focused on making a specific group of people sing. It was the same basic thing that happened in the cafeteria every time someone decided to sing at East High. The difference in effort was hardly noticeable, but the effect it was having on the thugs was remarkably clear. In any case, the fancy spinning tricks he was doing with the piece of metal in his hands were mostly for show. Ryan always figured the more badass he looked, the more badass people would think he actually was.

"It's time to finally take a stand,
Fight with my stump and my good hand.
Stop talking trash and kick some demon ass.
It is time!"
One of the uglies stepped forward, "Oh, it's time, Ash, but not for what you think."

They sprung into song. Ryan took that as a cue to break out into interpretive dance. Sort of. It was really stage fighting designed to hide the fact that he was actually hurting his targets, but no one needed to know that.

[ooc: long story short is that Ryan is only going after the people singing. You can come in to help him, you can be drawn in by the song, you can tell him that HEY MAYBE A SHOTGUN WOULD BE A BETTER WEAPON, ect.]

Comments

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

It turned out Bobby wasn't as needed for guarding the medic station as he thought so he was patrolling, alone. Sure he knew it wasn't wise to be out alone, not with the way the city was. But after all he'd been through he felt it was better that he was alone. Others relying on him only ended badly.

So he was making his way along the street with his new staff in hand. It wasn't as great as the Dado killers he had used in the past but it did the job. And that was when he heard singing. An eyebrow went up, thoroughly confused. "Why are people singing?" he asked to no one as he followed the sound.

What he found just confused him further.

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

On the edges of his vision, Ryan saw someone that wasn't singing, seemed very confused and was not anyone he recognized. Not that Ryan recognized many people in the City, but that wasn't the point. The point was that normally Ryan would explain exactly what was going on, but at that particular moment he couldn't. He was kind of in the middle of a verse.

"At the edge of the night
There's not a Deadite
I can't handle!"

The uglies chimed in (these were a new wave mixed in with some of the originals, the others were in various states of alive but incapacitated across the street) and Ryan felt a vague sense of satisfaction at that. It meant he still knew what he was doing, which was clear when Ryan spun into a kick that landed straight into one of the uglies' stomachs. It was something Ryan had highly modified from an akibo class he took once.

"When danger calls,
You must have the balls
Of an ox or a bear or any large mammal!"

Vaguely, Ryan wondered if he should acknowledge the observer. Except, he wasn't sure how to do it in the middle of a harmony and he wasn't about to relinquish his hold on the uglies so he just let the song play out, incapacitated the rest of the uglies and then he waved to the person.

"You might want to come and help me. There's at least a few more coming this way."

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

Bobby moved closer, fighting the urge to sing along. Which was difficult, because the closer he got the stronger the urge became.

But he couldn't be distracted by singing this guy needed help. It was surprisingly easy to block out the singing once he had focused on knocking guys out. His staff swinging quickly through the air, aimed for knees, stomachs, chests, anything he could hit. He seemed to move through the gathering crowd like it was second nature to him, given how many times he had fought off large crowds of enemies it might as well have been.

Whatever this guy was doing to them was making it easy to knock his way through them.

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

Ryan had always found that if a person had very little brains to begin with (and the uglies didn't seem to have more than the average person), they didn't gain any when under the influence of song. In fact, they became a bit like zombies. Living zombies wearing designer clothes and possibly singing about status quo, but still kind of thoughtless. It probably had something to do with herd mentality, or sheep following their leaders right off cliffs, but Ryan didn't actually care for the science behind it.

He just like the song. Truthfully, Ryan could have done without the having to beat up people, but. If it had to be done, it had to be done. He switched to another song (http://www.lyricsmania.com/lyrics/paramore_lyrics_7249/riot_lyrics_43515/let_the_flames_begin_lyrics_499916.html).

"God has smiled upon you this day,
The fate of a nation in your hands . . .
And blessed be the children who fight with all our bravery -
'Til only the righteous stand."

The message remained the same: Hey, you thugs! Join me in this number. It occurred to Ryan that after another few songs he was going to have to recycle them, but he doubted the uglies cared.

"You see the distant flames, they bellow in the night.
You fight in all our names for what we know is right.
And when you all get shot,
And cannot carry on -
Though you die, La Resistance lives on!"

It also occurred to Ryan that this person he was fighting with was very good. He admired that, because fighting was just a kind of dancing to him and it was one of the harder styles. Ryan couldn't expand on that thought much further though, because he was being required to smack an ugly right across the face. He could use the reconstructive surgery, in Ryan's opinion.

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

One after another the thugs fell, leaving a path of their unconscious bodies behind Bobby. Despite himself he found himself humming along, seems he couldn't resist completely.

As he broke through a group he chanced a look over at the singer. He didn't seem like much of a fighter, not very well trained. Of course more people didn't seem that well trained at fighting to Bobby. Not after spending all those days at the empty training grounds with Loor and Adler.

Of course, he couldn't spend too much time lost in thought, watching this guy. There were more of these invaders to be taken down. It seemed he wasn't hitting some of them hard enough because they just got back up after a couple minuets.

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

He really wasn't a fighter and Ryan would freely admit that because there was hardly sense in lying about things that were crystal clear. Anything Ryan knew about fighting was a rather colourful combination of stage combat (Macbeth had been heavy with it), years of being at the wrong end of fists (it was not always a good idea to be different) and some applied kickboxing (Akibo seemed fun, but not so much in retrospect).

Ryan sighed and pretended the uglies were baseballs and this was the some kind of sick and twisted athletic tournament. Coping mechanisms were really very second nature to him, but they only went so far. If very many more uglies showed up, Ryan was in trouble. Sing. Smack. Sing. Scope for someplace to duck into. Realize that he's in completely over his head. Repeat. All in a day's work really.

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

Bobby started hitting them harder, this time everyone he hit stayed down. Which was good because this was growing tedious. As time passed he found himself singing along, something he couldn't explain.

The thug's numbers were beginning to dwindle but it seemed being under whatever spell the singer was throwing didn't allow them to run away. He was beginning to wonder if he should suggest the guy stop singing.

"Hey, dude! Maybe you should stop singing?" he said after a moment before turning to knock out another thug.

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

"I can do that," Ryan said, "it's just easier to - nevermind. Stop, in the name of love! Before you break my heart."

A stop sign clattered to the ground not so far away, which made several of the uglies break free from his suggestion. In the back of his mind, he knew singing attracted people but it hardly occurred to him on a regular basis until someone brought it up. To him, it was just something people did - like magic or glowing green to other people - and he easily forgot the exact consequences of what his powers could do. Especially when they didn't behave quite like they did in his world.

"What kind of magic spell to use? Slime and snails or puppy dogs tails?"

It was, perhaps, not the best song to use. The glitter didn't do much and the snails were pretty much useless too. The point was mostly the slime. It made the area immediately in front of Ryan slick and slippery, which caused the uglies to slip and slide. Ryan took the opportunity to hit one and cause a domino effect.

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

Just as long as more weren't be attracted to the area Bobby wouldn't complain. He knocked out a few more thugs before looking over in time to see several thugs fall on their rears thanks to the now slippery ground and the domino effect caused by a single hit. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Certainly an interesting ability you have there." he said before spinning quickly to knock out another thug. "Let me take care of the rest of them and then we should probably get out of here before we get over run by these guys." he suggested.

[yayashton.livejournal.com]

"It's -" Ryan stopped himself before saying normal, causing an unnatural pause, "useful in certain ways."

He stepped back and let the other person take care of the uglies. But not before singing something softly under his breath. He could handle slime because it was no different than the waxed floors of East High. He wasn't so sure the other person could.

"It's our hearts little grave and the salt in our wounds."

A thin dusting of salt covered the slime. It would, if nothing else, create traction. Ryan was hoping it soaked up some of the slime, but sometimes what you wanted was not what you got.

[leadtraveler.livejournal.com]

"More so than my own ability." Of course if Bobby actually practiced it he could probably do just as well.

The moment singer-boy was out of the way Bobby began knocking guys out left and right, and then he hit where the ground had been covered in slime. The salt didn't help much, in fact it seemed to make it worse. The salt dissolved in the slime making it even more slippery than it was before.

For a moment Bobby nearly lost his footing but managed to regain balance long enough to knock out a few more guys before falling on his rear. "Ugh, groooooss." he groaned, slipping a bit more before he managed to get up. He'd dealt with plenty of gross over the past few years but slime would always be one of the grossest things.

Once back on his feet he made quick work of the last of the mutants before making his way over to the guy he'd helped out. "Man I could uses a shower now." he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"So, you always sing to your enemies?"