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Summary: John, Ana, and Laurel find themselves in a riot at Trinity

Date: April 8, 2009


Rating: R


The city's more dangerous elements seem always supernaturally attracted to the club's notorious basement. Speed metal, punk, militant rap and other violent bands play this level, attracting a bewildering assortment of fans from the dregs of society. Gang members dressed to the hilt and bedecked in gold stand next to punks in torn shirts and leather pants while watching long-haired metal fans compare tattoos. When they feel they need privacy, they slip off into the darkness of the Labyrinth, a huge maze which runs along the outside of the basement. In its various nooks and crannies dealers hawk their wares, couples embrace in passion and dark figures conspire. A small bar sits to the right of the stage. Below the stage is a mosh pit that has been dug into the ground.

There are four entrances, though only two are available to the general public. The most commonly used entrance feds in from the parking lot. The less commonly used entrance comes from the heavily populated ground floor. There is another bar at the south western end of the Labyrinth with four pool tables. While the lack of exits makes the basement appear to be the worst sort of fire hazard, the fact that it is made of all brick and concrete, as well as the state-of-the-art sprinkler system means that fires could do little physical damage here.

Nighttide covers on over the cityscape in shades of pitch and darkness. Shadows dance across a moonlit night as pools of silver cascade down against the barren streets. The sky fills with deep hues of vermillion and amber as a brisk wind picks on up from the east, its chill seeming to cause light goosebumps upon one's flesh. The wind howls out like banshees through the night long as their wails echo throughout the city. Stars shimmer brightly within the cool air like diamonds as they glitter against a sea of blue and black. Within one of the more nicer parts of town, people flood within club Labyrinth on a busy friday night. The line to the club is rather lengthy as those patrons push to gain headway in front of one another. The parking lot is full with cars, as well as a clatter of talking as those that are a bit too tipsy wander about either blabbering at the mouth or simply acting as drunk as they are. Inside the night explodes with laugher, music and dance as one of the newer hometown bands plays within on the stage. Booze, bodies and passion mix along with the strong scents of alcohol, smoke and body odor. At the bar there are plenty of people as they order their drinks, talk it up and flirt with one another.

Ahh, clubs. Despite her parents' wishes, she frequents them as regularly as she's able … though it oft-requires her to slip the collar of whatever keeper has been assigned to her. This week, however, she's been free from the leash, having exerted her will in the only way she can these days: by running away. How strange to think she's running away when she has her own apartment, but that's neither here nor there. Dressed down in dark, vaguely neo-goth-esque attire, Ana manages to slip inside without much difficulty. She's a slippery thing, this young dancer, and she employs all of that slipperiness to seek an escape — not to flee the chaos, but to embrace it and all the sensory overload it's due to entail. But first, she must make her way to get some water to drink and that is her first goal.

With a gaggle of her fellow sorority sisters, Laurel is out and about in the club having a good time. Her arms are raised into the air as she and her friends make a protective girl circle to where creepazoids need not enter. A wry grin curls onto her lips as she spies a few cuties, but she's here with friends, and in the end, that's all that matters.

The music blares through large speaks near the stage and that surround the club's walls in the corners to enhance the sound quality. Within the club on a friday night things are rather hectic to say at the least. Chaos, always present within as people mingle around and about, whether at the bar, standing and talking or dancing on the floor in front of the stage. The sound are a mix of techno, industrial and trance, and always present to such occasions come drugs, alcohol and other fixes that one could possibly get their hands on. At the bar a several people linger about, sitting, and or standing as well as chatting with each other and the tender. The bartender seems to have enough work as it is as him and his female compatriot tend to the customers throughout the night long. It's farily early in the night and people still seem to swarm on in at this hour. Whether one is here to get away, or simply mingle seems to be more so of the case and done rather easily. At the bar one can find water easily enough, though it does cost some just to ad that little bit more extra dough for the moneymakers of the club. The fair isn't anything big, just a few coins really, though still the club makes out big time from the added extra cash. As Ana makes her way to the bar one of the tenders greets her, the male one at least while the female one goes to fill other drinks. He's somewhat handsome at least and friendly enough as he greets her with a warm smile. "What can I getcha cutie?" His smile widening a bit as she comes on up to the counter. Laurels friends indeed circle around her as they chitchat and giggle while eyes wander towards the 'goods' within the place. One of them seems to have to go to the bathroom real quick as a few wander off with her in that protective way that females tend to stay in packs. The few that are left with Laurel stay with her as one of them offers on up quietly, "Lets head to the bar, see if we can get something to drink, I'm partched!"

It's the whisper of body language at the corner of her eye that draws Ana's attention to the young man; even with people swarming around, she's able to pick up on such things when they're 'spoken' to her. While the words have no meaning to her, she picks up at least a little of the intent … though her interpretation might vary. She attempts a smile, a terribly lopsided thing that doesn't seem to sit right, and then she shakes her head in an attempt at a polite decline that probably comes across less as 'thanks but no thanks' and more as a 'coy' gesture to those less adept at reading body language.

"Fiiiine, I guess we can go to the bar.." and with that, Laurel pulls out one of her fake IDs, giggling impishly as her friends depart from the protective circle of womanhood. Creepazoids are all abound waiting to pounce. Phear! She hooks her arm with her friend and starts heading on over towards the bar and hrmms for a few moments. "So the usual, right? Two midori sours!"

The bartender gives Ana another friendly smile as she visably declines his offerand he moves down the line of patrons once more just in time to see Laurel hooking arms with her friend as the two of them make in succession to the counter. Laurel's friend hops up on a stool as she drags Laurel along with her. Soft giggles are given as she eyes a few of the 'prospects' tonight. As the two make their way on over to order a drink, Laurel's friend gives her a somewhat 'duh-ish' look when she asks her the usual. "Midori Laur! Come on you should know that by now. Then again…I might just go for a long island ice tea." As the bar tender comes on up to the two of you, he offers a rather wolfish smirk then asks for ID, and only after which is shown asks for the two of your orders. As Laurel asks for two Midori Sours he nods his head as he goes to make the order. One of the men next to you both gives you two a look over and then smiles as he greets the both of you loud enough over the music so that he can be heard. "Hey beautifulls, how's it going?" In the meantime…in the background and near the hall by the bathrooms and phone there seems to be some kind of incident going on. A few men surround another guy who seems to have a somewhat nervous expression upon his face. The three men suround him as chatter goes in the background…the looks of a fight seem to be brewing in the distance.

Naturally, Ana resorts to pointing at the water to explain what she wants, although ID is dutifully supplied when it appears necessary; she's done this enough to know the ritual of displaying ID, without really grasping the 'why' behind it. The greeting draws her attention briefly, another tip-tilted and awkward smile being spared before she drops it entirely. A waggled hand suffices as a noncommittal response — maybe she just can't hear him over the music, or maybe things are just 'okay'. Any nearby unfamiliar faces are given a glance and a small wave, mostly by way of being polite. For now, she's oblivious to the impending fight, not that such ignorance will last long.

As she waits for the midori sours, a wry grin is given to her friend before her attention goes back to one of the men who looks her and her friend over. "Oh you know, the usual..horny, wanting a quick lay. And yourself?" Laurel asks curiously, chuckling softly in the end. Mmm, it's fun to tease.

Apparently Laurel's remark at first stuns the poor man for a moment as he tries to muddle over her rather aggressive attitude/playfulness. As Laurel states such her friend, Ashley goes about three shades of red as she almost spits out her midori sour all over the counter after it's given to her. Ashely shoots Laruel more of a WTF look then seems a bit too shy to actually say anthing other then that…Laurel's words clearly making her friend a bit more then embarassed. The man in the meantime, and after getting over Laurel's first remark, starts to actually laugh as he seems to have enough of a playful side within him as well. Focusing more on Lurel this time, he gives her a light playful wink then answers back with his own witty remark, "Well if it's a quick lay you're looking for sweatheart, you mihgt want to look elsewhere…I tend to last all night." It might be usure if he's completely teasing as his deep blue eyes carry a certain sense of intensity within. The bartender sets Laurel's midori down on the counter as he catches hint of her comment and simply shakes his head with a light grin. Making his way back on over to Ana, he sees where she points to, as well as her offered ID. A light laugh is given as she does so and he shakes his head as he answers back in kind, "No need for that sweetie. I'll get your order." A wink is offered back to Ana as he moves to do so and returns with a cup of water in hand as he places it down before her, after wich another pleasant smile is offered to her as he answers back to her in kind, "It's on the house." His playful, teasing remark given after such. While the flirting goes on, in the background by the bathrooms and phone, it seems to get a bit more intense…The smaller guy looks as if he's just been shoved up against a wall while the three larger men start in with the jeering and mocking. It's at that point when things /really/ start to get chaotic as the sound of a gun goes off rather loud agaisnt the blare of the music…and nearly almost everone panics.

The young woman just nods to the bartender, features settling into a comfortable blankness to contrast the sudden sharpness of her gaze. It's as if she's only now become aware of the movements of others, of their proximity, of their general … vibe. Just as she's settling into her water, the gun goes off and she starts, the glass landing on the counter and then tipping over to douse the surface in water. While she makes no sound, her expression is simultaneously startled and irritated, with dark eyes set to skimming the area in search of the source of the noise. Mental gears are turning, no doubt about that, but no hint exists as to what those gears are going to drive.

"Oh dont be so embarassed. You were the one dry humping Scott Johnson at the party last week!" she gives her friend a dismissive wave, before snickering softly as she looks over towards the man oncemore. "You know, using a cucumber in lieu of your willy doesnt count, besides, I dont think.." and as she's going to finish, the loud gun shot is heard and she immediately looks towards the sound. "HOLY FUCK!"

The bartender doesn't seem to suspect anything out of the ordinary, at least from Ana's silence as it is loud tonight as well as crowded. The fact that he's about had over a hundred orders over the course of the hours that he's been here makes a big difference as well. Paying *too* much attention to one partron would most likely get him fired as well as cause the ire of the mass of people ordering drinks…so her silent gestures and seemingly shy demeanor for the most part go unnoticed. Laurel's seemingly snippish comment towards her friend is returned back with a sudden drop-jaw resposne from her friend. Another look of unbelievement followed by narrowed eyes is shot back at her. The man that she's talking to still has that rather coy and almost obvious predatorial look that most guys looking for just that: A quick lay, give…that last for about three secods as the sound of a gun goes off in the background. Some people don't actually hear the noise, especially those by the dance floor who are currently having their eardrums blasted with music. Though those that do hear the sound immediatley start to rush en masse toward the exit. The sudden vibe of the crowd turns to complete chaos as people push to make it out the door, and leaving several people nearly trampled in the process. From the looks of it it's hard to see where the gunshot came from or who actually has the gun as the flow of bodies completly fill the room.

There are choices to be made now: run with the herd and get trampled or hit high ground. Whether to pursue the shooter or leave him for the authorities is a question she'll have to consider soon enough; for now, she's more interested in staying intact. Ana hops nimbly onto her stool and then over the counter, heedless of the fact that the bartender might not appreciate it. And, once, there, she turns her back to the human tide, doing her best to tune out the panic that's being given off in nearly tangible waves.

"Gina, go..find the others and go.." Laurel emphasizes, her tone suddenly taking a completely different tone. She chews on her bottom lip as she hops back onto the bar, hoping the bartender doesnt mind as she looks around. She just doesnt want to get trampled for now as she continues to urge her friend to go. "I'll meet you outside, I just dont want to get trampled!" and with that she continues to shoo her away.

Laurel's friend doesn't seem to need to be told twice…the snippish remark would have to wait for later to deal with, as for now the poor girl seems to try to fight against the tide of people trying to make her way towards the bathroom where the other two took off to do whatever mysteries that women do in there…and take forver and day with. As Laurel's friend takes off, it seems that a few other people at the bar have the same idea as they too jump upon their stools or either launch themselves on over the counter along with Laurel and Ana. The bar tenders seem to have other ideas as they head for the back staff door towards the rear of the bar as the rest of the patrons behind the door take for cover, some of them crying, some of them passed on out and others still shivering in total and utter fright. And yet still some haven't heard the gunshot, as they dance on blindly to the room about them…though it doesn't take too long for the rest of the club to get the hint as even more bodies add to the flow of total chaos. The man that was talking with Laurel only moments before seems to add to that flow as he dissappears in the havoc. The room eventually clears on out, though it takes some good bit of time to do. Those that are left, mainly behind the bar and within the rest of the club might be able to get a rather obvious notion that they are *still* in the room with the gunman…which from the looks of it seems to be that rather jitterish man from before faced off with those three men in the hall…one of which are left on the ground there in the hallway and unmoving. The gunman that's left seems to be in a rather intense panic, as well as likely drugged up on some high as he holds the gun in his hands with a certain dreadful shiver. Those left within the club seems to be held hostage for now as he looks about the room then shouts out in a weak and terror-filled voice. "Nobody move! Or I swear I'll fucking shoot!" Whatever he seems to want to do, or might think to do is hard to tell, though something is for sure that he's rather paranoid as well as incredibly anxious with the situation. Sirens soon sound off in the distance as they near the club. Cop cars spilling into the parkinglot, or at least trying to as they're left with the utter mayhem and mass of people.

Once the tide of humanity finally ebbs and washes away, Ana chances a backwards look. Jittery man. There. There's a blank look for the words, though words are hardly needed to determine what his mood and desires are. She, however, has no intention of obeying if the sudden, hard clenching of her jaw and defiant spark in her eye is any indication. There's a glance given to those few that remain nearby, a tip of her head, and then she's moving. A swinging door is noted and immediately taken advantage of, the young woman keeping as low as possible so the man won't see her. But if one were to presume she intended to make an escape, they would be very wrong; no, she's going to try to sneak along the outer edge of the room, in what might be a vain attempt to remain out of sight and out of mind while considering her next move.

Sneaky is always good. And if Ana needs a distraction, that's when it happens. Laurel is not exactly the heroic type, but she is the scared type. He has a gun, she doesnt, and from what she understands, getting shot hurts, a lot. Pain is not a good thing. As her thoughts start to go into this vicious cycle of fear and adrenaline, her body responds as soon, the air starts to become thick with..spores? She lets out a soft curse, realizing what's happening, but her body continues to respond as the spores soon waft over the gunman's way. If he has any plant allergies, now would be a bad time..

The gunman, for those that can see, seems to be on what one could consider a mighty bad trip. Whatever he was drugged up with, is painfully obvious to see that he's not what you'd consider any professional and most likely just about as terrified as the rest of the people in the room…which the rest of the people in the room seem to at least be smart enough to stay down where they are. Soft sobbing and whimpers of terror fill the rest of the room as those few that were caught and left behind are left with the crazed and drugged up gunman. Luckily our two heroines seem to be handling the situation while the cops are left to deal with the drunken, panicked masses outside and *still* trying to get into the damn parking lot. Behind the bar, Larel and Ana are left to deal with the situation, Ana making a sneaky exit out of the bar while Laurel…well spores herself. Which is rather odd as it has several effect within the immediate area. Some people, mainly behind the bar start to wheez, cough and even choke as their allergies go on a hayday. The rest of the club seems to be having a very similar effect as most normal people have at *least* some minor allergies at the very least. For the poor gunman with the happy trigger-finger, he does't seem to be one of the lucky ones as when the spores do reach him, he starts off on a coughing and wheezing fit…the spores liekly affecting him more so in his heightened, drugged state. Mayhap an unintentional effect, but definitely a successful one, as it allows Ana the time to sneak around the outerparts of the club and hopefully closer to her target.

The emission of spores is enough to prompt a sudden wrinkling of her nose, with Ana struggling to keep from sneezing. While she's not allergic per se, it's still enough to rile her sinuses. Eyes watering a little with the effort, the young woman pulls her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth to try to filter out some of the crazy spore action. As for her sneakery … well, she continues to work around, moving far more quickly once she's reasonably sure she's out of his visual range. Unable to take a deep, stabilizing breath, she settles on breathing out sharply, once, and then … it's 'do or die' time. Time to pull on all those memories of cop shows where cops in a similar situation make their move by pouncing from behind.

Poor allergy sufferers! Laurel would be a walking posterchild for Claritin considering she'd up their sales and whatnot. She just eeps as she continues to produce the spores and wants to move away so that people can have some relief without the drowsyness. She remains still and looks around, trying to glance around for anything that might help, and soon enough, the vines of ivy hanging from the ceiling start to grow, creeping towards a window..

Bad cop shows indeed! Though Ana, even if she might have experience with TV/Movie 'magic' is at least adept enough to mimic those movements as she sneaks ever closer to our crazed, drugged up gunman…while in the meantime poor Laurel is left sporing all over the place and causing some few people enough trouble that they're having complications breathing…though still that is the more uncommon portion of the people inside, the rest are just left to suffer with the induction of major allergies. Time ticks by in steady heartbeats until Ana strikes! Her sudden reaction explodes forth with a burst of energy, her temporary allergies seem to be put on the wayside as adrenaline kicks in and takes over. The gunman was more so oblivious to the sudden attack as he's left coughing and wheezing in his hieghtened state. As Ana does tackle him from behind, he falls foward on to the ground, though in the process winds up pulling the trigger of the gun. Luckily enough it doens't hit anyone…well, any *more* people as already one man lies silently still on the ground by the bathrooms and phone in the hallway. The gun gets dropped and slides in front of the shooter a few feet away as the silent one pounces from behind. A sudden gaging wheez emits forth from the gunman's mouth as it's followed by a higher-pitched shrieking sound…and the scuffle ensues between gunman and Ana! Outside is still utter and complete chaos as the cops are left to leave their cars as is in the streets and try like mad to calm everyone down and establish order. In the meantime while Laurel is left behind the bar in the heat of the moment…she seems to take notice of a few potted plants within the outsides of the club, to which the sudden and rather drastic growth of such afixes itself upon the walls, and grows to spill out over the rest of the club walls and even outside the windows too! The plants seeming to have a mind of their own as the rest of the patrons within the club gasp and even scream at the sight of the drastic growth. A few even manage to get up and run as they take the momentary loss of the gun to get the hell out of dodge, while others still lie low and too frightened to help.

The crowd outside roils and writhes, people moving in differing degrees of panic, confusion, and some to anger. They've flowed out into the parking lot, into the street, around the corners. Some are gaggled together talking, some are bleeding and injured, some are laughing and still drinking. The cops move in and around the club entrance, trying to establish a cordon as more units come into place.

Of course on the few nights that John actually travels into the city to one of these local haunts to relax… this happens. He stands at the edge of the crowd, favoring his braced knee, then moving forwards a bit and grimacing to himself. "Hey, uh, whazzat?" He asks a young pale woman with dark hair, "Crazy shit, man." Is the answer as she continues looking for her friends.

Within the crowd the rumblings and murmur are myriad.
"See that guy, fucker had a gun."
"People still in there."
"Why don't the cops do anything?"
"My nose is bleeding!"
"Hey man, fuck you! You don't have shit for authority out here, asshole!" This last being practically screamed by an angry mohawked young man with a chain linking his nose to his ear. He stabs a finger in the face of one of the bouncers who are trying to help the police at least get some measure of control of the place. One of the mohawk's friends rails, "Fuck'n A right, Napalm, kick his fuckin' ass!"

Taking advantage of the scuffle, Laurel's eyes widen and she intently focuses on the gun. Gotta get it away, but she doesnt want to cause a fuss, so she'll have the ivy do it for her. The vines of ivy wipe down and entangle themselves around the gun before they start slowly dragging it off. The gun is heavier than the vines afterall, so it's a bit slowed down from the mass. Fortunately for the rest of the patrons, her immediate focused use of her powers causes the spores to diminish as her body starts taking active control of the plants, or at least tries too. However, she may have overdone the growth part though. Crap!

Ahh, scuffling. It's not her strongest suit, she's more suited to reciting a scripted dance or doing a bit of improv with her fists and feet, but she's doing her best. Ana is specifically attempting to extricate the gun from the man's hand, and if that involves breaking his wrist, so be it. It's taking enough effort to not cough and sneeze as it is while running on an adrenaline high; exerting a bit of control to restrain herself from causing accidental harm isn't high on her list. No room for fear now; that'll come later, when all's said and done. For now, she's just scrabbling for dominance with everything she's got.

Outside things are still in chaos, and more cops start to show up on the scene trying to handle the rather large incident. Also of note, news vans start to show up as well as the reporters rush in with cameras trying to fight their way through the crowd and get as much 'action' on film as they can. Inside things are looking rather hectic as Ana wrestles the drugged up gunman for command…which is a bit more then she might be able to deal with. As much as she can copy actions that she sees…it's a far different thing then having the amount of strength to do certain feats. Luckily though Laurel uses some very quick thinking to manipulate one of the growing vines to slowly wrap around the gun and take it off to the side and out of reach of the gunman while Ana's left to fight him. At this point more people start to freak out from the living plant monsters as a good number more rush outside and into the mob others. With Ana on his back, the gunman shouts out a few cuses at her as he tries to roll to his right side and forth her off of him. His strength is just remarkable in his drugged up state. Possibly even more so from PCP or some other boosting influence, that tapped off with a good dose of adrenaline…Ana seems to have a good bit of trouble on her hands. The gunman manages to twist his body to the right as he literally takes hold of Ana's shirt collar and rips it while he sends her flying through the air just a few feet away from him and manages to rise to his feet as the rest of the room is finally relieved from the sporefest. His next words shot back at her in a bout of rage-filled panic, paranoia and anxiety, "Fucking BITCH! Gonna fucking die for that!"

Outside things continue to roil as the cops push their way through the crowd. Some are shouting for the people to remain calm, to disperse in an orderly manner, to let the police do their jobs. There's the sound of glass breaking nearby, and some laughter as the crowd gets a little rowdy. As for John he stays on the edges, looking up one way of the crowd, then the other. He takes a step to the side then hops onto a bus stop's bench, trying to get a better view. Nothing. Grimacing, he hops back down and tries to wend his way into the crowd if only to get a better or different angle. Meanwhile Napalm is building up a rant, hurling expletives and angry words right in the face of the large bald black man that is doing his best to keep his temper reined in.

Can we say 'ow'? Ana hits the ground in uncharacteristically graceless fashion, taking a moment to regain her bearings and catch her breath, and, well, clear her lungs a bit. Stupid spores. A moment later has her pushing to her feet and giving her head a shake as if to clear it. Round two? She's not sure round one was such a great idea, in retrospect. In the confusion, of course, she doesn't realize she doesn't have the weapon … nor does she care, at this point, given the turn in the situation. Her torn clothing doesn't even register. For now, though, she's just watching him, watching and waiting and hoping he betrays himself in some way so she can take advantage.

There's more panic in the air, and watching the gunman threaten to overpower Ana causes Laurel's power to flare. "Hey!" she calls out angrily, hoping that she'll suddenly become the focus of his attention to give Ana an opening. "Didnt your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?!?!" she calls out as the ivy vines start to writhe, almost like octopus tentacles mirroring her own agitated state.

And boy do they flare. That sudden 'Hey' almost seems to cause the vines to explode through the room, growing more in intensity as a good number of them react as if irritated. Vines from the right, and left wall of the club snake out maliciously almost as they reach for the gunman and immediately start to wrap around his wrists and legs. The guy as much drugged up and adrenalized as he is doesn't even notice the fact that plants shouldn't normally be acting like that…wheras the rest of the patrons left in the club do, and quickly start to bully their way outside with the rest of the crowd and fighting against that instead. The gunman sets his eyes on Ana in what would be considered a cold, deadly gaze. The poor mute being left to deal with the rather crazed individual…that is until Laurel speaks and causes him to turn that icy stare back on her. Of course at this point the vines have managed to be a bit too much of a hindrance then he would've liked. Doing his best to rip away and out of their grasp, he suddenly makes to bolt towards the door, with, or without his gun, and leaving the two heroines as well as the rest of the club goers inside to deal with the aftermath. Of course when he does run outside people knowing and recognizing him start to panic even more as he barrels towards a group of individuals trying to make his escape…which is likely to be successful with as much chaos as is outside, unless someone were to try and stop him.

Shouts start to go up around the entrance of the club even as the man bulls outside in a mass of other patrons. One woman standing on an SUV shrieks, "That's him!" Even as some cops spin around and roar, "Freeze!" It's almost like a series of dominoes falling as each person in the crowd's sense of danger heightens and then their reactions fall all over each other. Some people start to try and run away, and on the edges they're successful. Some start to yell and scream. Some even try to throw things, an errant booze bottle hurled and shatters against the wall of the club itself. But of all the crowd, the one most emboldened is Napalm as he roars, "It's go time, motherfucker! Boom!" And as he says that last word he uncoils and lets loose with a roundhouse punch right at the bouncer's jaw.
"Yeah, kick his ass, Napalm!"
"Fuck him up!"
New screams start to go up around the crowd as suddenly it's no longer bordering on just an incident, but now is well on its way to becoming a riot. Especially when the bouncers dive in to protect their own and start wailing on Napalm and his friends.
Caught somewhat in the middle, John's reaction is a low and unheard, "Aw hell."

She will suffer for all this tomorrow, no doubt. Ana holds that gaze easily, her gaze shuttered and empty, feigned obliviousness to the source of his ire. But then the unknown woman cries out and her focus is broken, a slow, owlish blink being given before the revelation of what the plants are doing finally hits. Eyes widen, just a bit, but even if she had a word to express her astonishment, she wouldn't have been able to articulate it. There's no time to consider it too deeply, though. That lapse in her attention is just enough to allow the man to make a break for it; too far away for her to easily catch, still too dangerous to just let him go. A concerned look is shot to the mysterious woman, a wordless inquiry, an 'are you alright?' perhaps, but that look is gone in a heartbeat and she's suddenly /running/, bolting after the man with a grim look of determination on her face. There's still some adrenaline to spare, it would seem.

As he runs out, that's when she finally starts to calm down. She never had any plan on chasing after him. She hates running. It means it's exercise that's totally unneeded. So, she relaxes, and she suddenly crashes from her adrenaline rush. She falls face first onto the ground with a kerthunk, the plants slowly calming down afterwards..

With more adrenaline that is most likely unhealthy for any normal individual, Ana pursues the crazed maniac. Just as the drugged man tries to free himself and get away from the chaos, does she follow afterwards. Of course, right outside the door is the fight between Napalm, his friends and the bouncers, all of which seem to cause a near rioting level within the crowd as thus starts to quickly break out outside. The drug-adrenaline induced gunman seeing his chances to escape getting blown to bits, seizes a nearby woman as he quickly wraps his right arm around her neck and shouts in a fit of anger and terror, "Fucking BACK off bitch, or I'll break her goddamn neck!" His words directed towards Ana as she comes barrelling after him. People once again freak out as some of them try to move away while others rush in to help as well, and yet still some seeming to enjoy the entire fiasco as bottles of booze, trash and other variables are flung and thrown assunder. At this point the news is getting their fill for the evening as the cops continue to try to break up the chaos. They split up into groups, one to maintain control over the quickly growing riot while the other group starts to move in on the gunman holding yet a new hostage. Inside the club is crying, sobbing, some screaming and whimpering as people start to calm down to what just happened. In the mix of such as soon as plant girl finally crashes, so too do the vinces as the quickly lose their tenacity and just lie there drooped from the walls and spilling out on to the floor.

The crowd jostles, flowing and shifting like a sea. The gangers dive into the scrum with the bouncers and pretty soon a brawl is going between them. Napalm's quickly buried under the bodies of two bouncers, the large men taking turns in slamming their fists into the crumpled form of the mohawked young man. A few feet to the side, a pair of leatherclad young men with many piercings are holding a large muscular blonde man and letting their friend kick the man repeatedly in the most horrible way possible for a man. Over on the curb two men are rolling around and trying to get the upper hand, their faces purpled with exertion as they strain and strive, looking to slam each other's heads into he concrete. As for John, he scowls and reaches over, stepping to the men on the ground and saying sharply. "Freaking brilliant, gunman trying to kill people and yer all playin' footsy." With a display of strength he /yanks/ one man up and pulls him off the other. But in so doing he doesn't have time to see another figure step behind him. He doesn't see the flash of steel, nor does he see the blade enter his flesh from behind. John's stabbed several times in rapid succession, with that short sharp series of thrusts seen usually in prison. As quick as it happens, that figure is trying to slip back into the crowd even as a woman is screaming. "Oh god he's bleeding!" As the young man's t-shirt and jacket quickly grow slick with blood.

The mute stops short when the man grabs a bystander, her eyes widening, then narrowing with disgust. She eases back a step, adopting a defensive martial arts stance while she watches him; it's hard, though, with so much chaos writhing around. So much pain, fear, panic, horror, it's impossible for her to be totally ignorant of it. But any mention of bleeding means nothing, though the tone is enough to elicit a look of fleeting concern. No matter, Ana has a man to … to do what with? If she were more of a cartoon-watcher, she might be reminded of the episode of Looney Toons wherein the coyote finally caught the roadrunner and had no clue what to do. Granted, this isn't an exact analog, but close enough. So she holds, watching, waiting, and trembling just a little as her 'high' starts to wear off.

Dogs and cats, living together, mass hysteria! Or so would be quite the appropriate quote from an all time favorite movie. Inside the club the few patrons that are left look on over just eyes widened as they start to converge on the fallen Laurel. Some few whispers of 'Mutant' and then others of 'Hero' are mentioned throughout the crowd just as someone comments about, "Hey, where'd that other chick go?" Thoughts and voiced concerns of the two heroines commented on. One of the more compassionte individuals within the crowd takes Laurel in his arms as he carries her to lay her down on a nearby couch. Voiced concerns are muttered throughout and within the room filled with drooping vines. While those inside are tended to by the few others within, outside is a completely different matter as Ana is faced off with the attacker, who's luckily enough taken down by a rather awesomely and very accurate shot from one of the policemen. He goes down as his high starts to wear off, just in time it seems as the rest of the police immediately converge in on him as well as the rest of the crowd. Because of that rather accurate, (and lucky) shot, the gunman drops hold of the poor woman he had his arm wraped around and hits the floor. First on his right knee then soon followed by the rest of him as the police manage to apprehend him. As for now the crowd seems to still be within a riot as the police try their best to control the situation. Some are bloody, others crying, and screaming. Some people wind up rather injured as others seem to have the common sense to flee the situation.

Going down on his hands and knees, for a time it seems to him like he's in a little bubble of silence within the mayhem. John can't hear the wildness going on around him, can't focus on the bodies surging back and forth. The only thing that he can hear is this ringing in his head and this steady pounding of his heart racing, beating, harder and harder. His features tighten sharply, and a low cough of blood spatters the pavement in front of him. Around him the crowd is battered, by its own, by the police, by the bouncers, by the gangers. But finally, with what can only be described as a wild abandon, the victim of the stabbing is on his feet again. His features twisted into ugliness and then he lashes out with an abrupt violence at those nearest him, becoming just another brawler in the crowd. But a brawler that doesn't seem to care, and a brawler that doesn't seem to want to go down.

And, like that, it's over. Her breath escapes in a quavering rush and the young woman sinks to her knees, palms resting on the ground and head down while she tries, and fails, miserably, to keep from shaking. Exhausted, now, and finally starting to feel the pain that will precede a rather stunning array of bruises. Ana shuts her eyes, waiting for the moment of dizziness to pass before she even dreams of getting to her feet to walk away. While not ignorant of the brawl that's started back up, she completely lacks the energy to move, to try to intercede or even escape from its possible path.

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