beyondtheline | I sure like the feeling of an endless road

No, you should stay off vide noir. C'mon, you know that.

[Look, he knows he's not being fair or logical here and he doesn't care. Nobody should take that shit. He wants it, but he shouldn't take it. It's just that he does a lot of things he shouldn't do, and following shoulds and should nots is fucking boring, while going against them is way more interesting.]

I mighta warned you off coke at first too just so you don't get hooked on it, but it seems like you're doin' good there. It's not as addictive anyway y'know, that shit's just an easy good time.

[Tags, tags. Well, they probably have a long way to walk. At least this way the cool night air and all the city lights will give them some taste of what he was after - and especially now it actually does seem like it's helping him sober up. Or at least helping him walk a little straighter.]

[He seems to be in okay spirits. And can walk better now too. That's a good thing. She glances over at him with a grin, pleased that their night hasn't been derailed by how unprofessional those two sellers were. They're probably still circling the park looking for chumps who don't mind spending hundreds of dollars.]

We never need to take anything to have a good time.

[That feels important to point out, but she knows whatever they take always amplifies their enjoyment. She doesn't mind it, and he knows that. She's just giving him a hard time to try and make him smile too.

They head out of the park and she leads the way further down the street. Things go from nice to run down within a couple of blocks. Her eyes are peeled for signs of tags, and she thinks she spots one on a trash bin at the side of a gas station.]

Hey, what about that? Do you think that means we're getting closer?

Hm.

[He looks it over a second, hands in his pockets, then shrugs and withdraws his hands really just to light up a cigarette.]

Maybe. Might have to see some more to figure out if it's a one off, they don't have the same style here as what I'm used to. Or maybe it's your time, things changed, I bet.

[Graffiti is still fairly new in his neighborhood in general, and who knows how the styles of turf marking have evolved over the years.

But it does get him looking more, as they walk - not just at walls and sidewalks, but at the people who might be watching and lurking, just in case some of them decide to become trouble.

There's a more obvious example as they make it down to the corner of the next block. There's a roll call sprayed on a lowered garage door facing the street, some ten names in blue, but two are crossed off in red with a large JB sprayed over the top of the rest.

And so just in case, Johnnie brushes the pistol in his jeans with his thumb to make sure it's still there. Just in case.]

We prob'ly wanna keep walking. Keep your eyes open.

[These people have no reason to know or think about him whatsoever but it's only smart to be a little careful in a contested area. Every shape could be trouble.]

Mmhm.

[A soft sound of understanding is his only response, as she pauses in walking long enough to try and figure out what's going on with that garage door. She doesn't realize he's walked on ahead until she can't sense his presence next to her anymore. It's only then that she jogs to catch up to him.]

Hey, why were all those names crossed off like that? I haven't seen anything like that back home.

[It's not like she's an expert on graffiti or anything but at least she's not staring at it asking is this tagging? all over again.]

Blue names was a roll call, buncha people in the gang here all sayin' they're still here, still around, still layin' claim to this block. The red crossin' some of 'em off means either it's a threat or they've been done by JB which I gotta figure is that Jawbreakers crew, but that makes it a threat either way since they're comin' into this turf an' makin' a big deal of it.

[And that's why he's watching the shadows and tugs her along with him, at least until the tags become more consistent. JB on every wall - so these guys are sure of themselves, and prolific enough that even here in San Francisco, their tags last long enough before anyone bothers to paint over them.

There's a trio of boys laughing across the street, sitting on the sidewalk with their backs to a wall. They have paper bags in their hands - hard to see, but easy to hear with the crinkle of the paper. Their voices don't sound like they've even dropped in pitch yet. Kids huffing, Johnnie has to figure. Not all that threatening, but confident enough to hang out in the open here. They belong.

He walks on up and knocks on the building wall like it's a door, though he's obviously been seen. The giggling only pauses slightly.]

You boys know where I can go if I'm lookin' to buy somethin' to spice up my night a little?

[Chrissy figures this is probably a good time to be seen and not heard. And actually, she prefers not to be seen since those boys are looking at her with interest. They sound like they're still in middle school, so she at least sees them as kids and not threats. She still stays quiet, letting Johnnie handle the conversation this time.]

Maybe.

[One of the boys responds, and giggles as he nudges his friend next to him. That boy is a little taller than the others, and eyes Johnnie and the jacket he's wearing critically.]

You gotta go through the guys at the Roundhouse.

[What the heck is a roundhouse?

Chrissy shifts to stand behind Johnnie as all the boys look over to her.]

You might wanna leave her here with us. It'd be safer.

[It's hard to tell if they're being honest or if they're joking around at flirting with her right in front of her boyfriend, because they're all giggling and nudging each other again. She bites at her lip to try and ignore the impulse to tell them all to fuck off.]

It's a few blocks that way.

[The smallest of the boys speaks up, pointing back over his shoulder.]

You gotta talk to Dante over at the Roundhouse. But you really don't wanna bring a girl down there.

You boys got a lot to say about a girl you never met. Watcha got there, paint?

[Somehow the giggling increases at that response, and one of them tries to respond but he's in so deep the babbling is nearly incoherent. Something about Dante and the guys and eating her up, but it's the ramblings of a very high child and easy enough to dismiss as meaningless.

The others are nodding along, and Johnnie can't help but chuckle at their stupid high asses. At least he got a lead on where to go.]

Don't have too much fun, kids. Your mamas want you home in the morning.

[That is certainly not a "don't get high sniffing fumes", not really even a caution, just a casual farewell as he continues on down the sidewalk in the direction of this supposed Roundhouse. And out of some sense of needing to protect her, even though he knows he certainly doesn't, Johnnie tucks an arm around Chrissy's waist regardless.]

Dumbass kids. We can feel this place out before goin' in but I can't imagine any bar or clubhouse or whatever's gonna be that bad unless it's a buncha real fuckin' animals.

[Well, she never minds his arm around her waist. The touch makes her smile, and she leans against his arm a little as they walk. It's pretty endearing how sweet he was with those kids.]

What, like lions or something? Oh! Or bears!

[What he really means settles in a second later, and she laughs as she shakes her head.]

Anyway, you were really good with those kids. They were so high I'm surprised they could even remember Dante's name.

Surprised they could say much at all. That shit goes from funny to blackout so fuckin' fast. First you think you've seen god an' then you're out for a real deep nap.

[He snickers. Brain damage is funny. Mostly because he's pretty sure he came off easy in that regard. Right? Probably.]

Anyway, I guess if these assholes really are trouble we can fuckin' bail. I just wanna get high, I don't wanna have a shitty night fulla shitty people. This is turning into a fuckin' journey.

[Sigh.

Some blocks down, he gets a sign they must be headed in the right direction. Music, muffled out here as it drifts past buildings, seeps out onto the street somewhere not too distant. Music that's unusual to his ears and sort of reminds him of what they heard in New York, all those thumping beats that carry down the block.

And there outside a building with golden light pouring out of a small cracked window are a handful of guys smoking and laughing. Must be the Roadhouse. As they draw close, he calls out,]

Evening, boys. Don't suppose one 'a you can point me to Dante?

[He's wary, despite his usual cheery tone. If he's not welcome here, if he needs to draw a weapon, he'll be on that so damn fast. Hopefully Chrissy is also helping out by keeping an eye out behind them.]

[Chrissy goes tense out of initial concern they won't be welcome here. It would kinda be a drag and bring the night down if she ended up being scared and killing everyone. Johnnie probably wouldn't mind, but she's not exactly looking to test that tonight. So she tries to just keep herself pressed against his side and smiles as much as she feels comfortable doing, and figures that does a pretty good job making her look like a shy girlfriend or something.

As Johnnie speaks up, all of the laughter and chatter stop as heads swivel to look their way. They must run a really organized operation here, because they all seem to know exactly what they're here for. One of the guys waves them closer as another pops inside.

Those eyes focus on her more than him, and they do a few catcall whistles that she just smiles off as they approach. Avert her eyes, flutter the eyelashes. Yeah, they'll never realize she can kill them all. Her feet start slowing as they get in close enough she can see the details of all their faces, but she doesn't drag her heels and slow him down any. She's just a little anxious is all.

It isn't long before a guy comes out and looks their way.]

You looking for Dante?

[He eyes them up and down before grinning and beckoning them in closer. He doesn't see them as a threat, but just a young couple out looking for a good time.]

Yeah, just lookin' to buy a little something.

[No big deal. And evidently, it isn't that big a deal to the guy waving for them to follow him - a sale is a sale. And more and more, Johnnie is convinced that these people don't know the World Enders, and while normally that would be a little annoying, here it's just helpful, probably.

He leads them to a private room toward the back, lets himself in with some kind of fancy patterned knock before pushing open the door.]

There you go. Dante's the one at the back.

[Though it's easy enough to figure out without even that. Dante has intricate braids wound around his scalp bound with glittering costume jewelry - or hell, maybe it's the real shit, Johnnie can't tell from this distance. But it looks like gold and silver and the occasional sparkling stud and it makes him look like the king of whatever kingdom he's carved out for himself here in San Francisco.

Well, or he's just a guy who likes a fancy look. Seems odd they'd lead him to the head of the crew just to buy some shit. Maybe he's just a dude. Either way, Johnnie waves off their escort and strolls on ahead.]

Dante, yeah? Everyone tells me you're the guy to buy somethin' good from tonight. Met a couple a' people earlier down by a park who were tryin' to run some kinda scam an' I'm a little tired of that bullshit, I gotta say. You'll give me some straight business, yeah?

Tell me what you want and I'll hook you up.

[Dante glances over from the kid to his girl, who is definitely curiously eyeing his hair. He gives her a wink and chuckles as she blushes and glances away, turning her head to hide it against her boyfriend's shoulder.]

I ain't looking to rip nobody off. You walked your asses all the way out here, so I might as well give you a good deal so it's not a fucking waste of time.

[He's not about coming right out with prices and a complete list of everything he has in stock to offer. They'll tell him what they want and he'll name the price, or they can get the hell outta here and go back to whatever part of town the girl's from.]

[At this point Johnnie is tired of trying to push to find something new. So far, that's wound up with an attempted offer of vide noir and some really expensive coke, and neither one is going to be what he's after.]

Heard your shrooms up here in the north are the real deal, you got those?

[Dante laughs.]

Trotted all the way out here for that shit, huh? Yeah, good call. My boys grow some real fine strains like you've never heard of. What kinda trip are you after?

[Phew. Johnnie breathes a sigh of relief - now, hopefully the price isn't absolutely insane.]

Don't need to be real crazy, just a nice smooth waking dream while we check out the city lights, yeah?

[Dante taps his chin as if he's thinking, but then quickly turns toward a duffel bag tucked away in the corner and withdraws two smaller baggies, one with pale white long stalks and the other with little yellow caps.]

Blend's what you want. One part Penis Envy, one part Moctezuma, you'll have all night to enjoy those lights. $30 for an eighth, custom blend. You in?

Penis Envy?

[Her nose scrunches up at the name, and it makes Dante laugh with a shrug. She's not against mushrooms, but those names sure are weird. Her head turns so she can whisper just to Johnnie, as her fingers curl against the bottom of his jacket.]

Thirty isn't too much, is it? Let's get them so we can go have fun.

[An eighth is a measurement she can't really visualize, but that has to be enough for the both of them to enjoy lights or whatever Johnnie has in mind. She must not be as quiet as she thinks she is, because Dante laughs again.]

She ever done this kinda shit before?

[It's not like he actually cares, he's just making conversation until they hand over money.]

[Thirty fucking hurts compared to what he's used to spending, but he's getting the sense that it might genuinely be the best deal he can get out here. If vide noir was forty, then a little packet of shrooms at thirty is just going to have to satisfy. So despite his visible grimace, he digs out his wallet.]

Yeah, man. Couplea times. Here -

[Good thing he's been avoiding actually paying for things as much as possible since getting this cash. Thirty comes out of his wallet, and he trades it off. Dante tucks the bills into a pocket, pours a mix of the little mushrooms onto a scale and weighs out the eighth of an ounce, then sweeps them up into their own baggie and passes that back.]

You'll like 'em, you'll want more. Come on back any time, you know where to find me.

[At least this guy is nice. He's probably high on something but that's okay. She smiles and waves before she urges Johnnie to go, and tries not to hurry out when Dante makes a sound.]

Where'd you two say you're from again?

[He's eyeing the back of Johnnie's jacket and Chrissy shrugs with an innocent smile. She's still surprisingly good at pulling those off.]

Like we told your guys out front, we're just in town on vacation. He's finally bringing me out on a romantic getaway.

[That question is worded in a way that sends a prickle of heat up Johnnie's neck, but the dude's looking at his back, he knows the answer already if it means anything to him.]

Enders, man. Los Angeles. You know 'em?

[He turns to look over his shoulder. He can't help it, can't just walk away and let Chrissy's non-answer be good enough. The question wasn't a direct challenge, no, but it's fucking cowardly to run off like he doesn't want to get in trouble. He wears this jacket everywhere he goes for a reason - he's proud. They're a family and he won't pretend not to be one of them.

Dante smirks and leans back casually.]

I've heard stories here and there. Thought you went belly-up back in the late sixties, though. Didn't think kids like you could still be kicking around, especially not this far north.

[The fuck? Oh man, this version of the world is bad. Johnnie stares a long moment, trying to tell if Dante is fucking with him or not, but he's so damn hard to read.]

Well, you learn somethin' every day, huh? Have a good one, man. I gotta get this girl out there before she drags me.

Yeah, you do that.

[Dante's smirking even more, and looks so casual and smug that there are alarms going off in her head. They need to get the heck out of here before -

The door opens and three guys come casually strolling in, all of them smirking just like Dante. That's pretty obnoxious if you ask her. Unfortunately, no one is.]

Oh, and kid? Thirty was a deposit. You gotta fight your way outta here to cover the rest.

[Well, this is going to be awful. She makes a small sound of discontent that she lets die off in her throat, and glances up at Johnnie. If he gets hurt, she's not going to be responsible for how she reacts. It's not her fault that this guy and his stupid gang are trying to make them fight for drugs like it's Mad Max or something.]

Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me!

[Asshole. He'd suspected from the start that this could be a trap, could be too good to be true, but it had gone off so smoothly he'd let his guard down just a little too much.

Muscle memory has him reach for his knife, not his gun, while he quickly assesses the quickest way out. Through a window would be nice, but Dante's little private back room here doesn't have one. He probably has some rear exit of his own, a hatch under a table or something, but there's no time to search for it.

As he pulls his knife, the other three draw pistols. This is hardly a fight, more like an execution - but Johnnie ducks low and rushes the guy closest to him, and his gun goes off but fires in entirely the wrong direction as Johnnie's shoulder and elbow collide with his gut and stagger him backward.]

Call 'em off, Dante, before this whole place goes, you ain't got a fuckin' clue!

Johnnie!

[He leaps right into action, because of course he does. He's going to protect her, and he's going to fight for himself as well. His pride wouldn't let him back down, and she's grateful for that. But she's also panicked, and has to curl her fingers inward so her nails can bite at her palms and distract her from doing something awful.

She tries to dart over to help him, but Dante grabs her by the arm and gently tugs her back.]

Girl, you stay right the hell here if you know what's good for you.

[He obviously isn't looking to hurt her, but panic gives way to upset as she watches Johnnie try to take on three guys at once. She can feel all that melt away to a roaring anger that burns red hot and out of control. She doesn't want to kill more people. Not right now. Tears form in her eyes as she tries to control all of those negative feelings that threaten to turn into explosive darkness that wants to destroy everyone here. There's no telling if it would skip Johnnie, and she can't chance doing anything to him.]

Listen to him. Please! I can't control it.

[Somewhere in the fray, Johnnie glimpses sight of Dante tugging Chrissy aside and it sets him off even more. He whips his knife hand forward, plunging it into the chest of the guy he's closest to, then tries to hold him close despite the fountain of blood to use him as a shield in case one of the others tries to shoot.

Close quarters makes their pistols almost useless, they were too slow to act, unable to predict how quickly he would leap to this level of bloodshed when faced with three men. He's not the type to run. They know that now.]

Get your fuckin' hands off her, asshole!

[Dante just grips Chrissy tighter, sensing her desire to rush in and join, or something. Whatever it is she can't control, this isn't her fight. She's just a girl.

One of the men grabs at Johnnie's hair and pulls back hard, causing him to hiss and curse as he lets go of his human shield. He slams his heel down on the man's foot, then slashes with his knife, but misses anything vital.]

[That hiss makes her eyes widen and she bites through her lip until she tastes blood. That's painful enough to keep her from lashing out and letting that darkness explode out of her and into everyone, but the restraint isn't going to last much longer at all. Dante's hold on her is distressing her more, and in an attempt to try and focus on anything but blowing everyone up she decides physical violence is the only acceptable outlet.

If that jerk wants to hold her by her arm, that's fine. She growls as she turns so she can duck her head and chomp down on his arm. She does it hard, enough that he shouts out in pain. Her mouth clamps down harder and tighter, and that's enough of a distraction that two of his men come at her and only one is left fighting Johnnie. That's more evenly matched, and she smiles with flesh in her mouth as she starts to taste blood.

Is it his or hers? She doesn't really know or care. But the coppery taste keeps her grounded enough that she doesn't spiral out of control.]

[Johnnie misses with that slash and the guy he's fighting counters with a fist to his nose. Johnnie shouts with pain as he sees stars briefly - fuck, that better not have broken - and he feels wet streaming down his face. He retaliates immediately, striking with his knife again and burying it deep in the man's bicep.

This dude is huge though, and apparently fucking immune to pain because he just grabs around Johnnie's wrist and stops him from twisting the knife that's sticking out of the dude's arm. Wide-eyed for only a moment, Johnnie thinks fast, grabs the gun left-handed from his belt and fires it point blank into the dude's gut.

The gunshot brings a whole lot of attention. Dante shouts, in surprise or anger or both. The other man tries to grab Chrissy around the middle and pin her arms at her sides. Footsteps echo and chairs screech across the floor from the main room of the clubhouse where men get up from their tables. Johnnie pulls free of the guy he shot, tugs his knife out of the man's arm, then deftly swaps his weapons and fires at Dante, who is already taking cover behind a table with his own gun pointed at Johnnie. Neither bullet hits, and chips of wood and paint go flying.]

That's two down, motherfucker, you wanna lose more men or what? You don't fuck with us Enders, you really oughta know better! Let us go or you're gonna find out real fast what nightmares are made of!

[Would he actually? Who fucking knows. It's a pretty good threat.]

[As soon as she's able to, Chrissy takes off at a run to scramble over to Johnnie. She skids to a stop and moves to stand behind him as he shouts his threat, and she only glances back behind them as she hears the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. It's only a matter of seconds before it's too late.]

She fucking bit me!

[Dante shouts in response, still in disbelief that the crazy bitch just latched right on. He shoots at her and the bullet goes high, hitting the wall right behind her instead. She gasps and presses in closer to Johnnie, heart racing as she tries to stay in control.]

Yeah, and I'll do more than that if you don't let us go!

[He really doesn't get it, but is guessing he doesn't have to. These two are all kinds of messed up. He lets out a whistle right as the door opens, and the rest of the gang goes quiet and watches.]

Get the hell outta here, man. Take her with you. If we see your faces in our turf again, either of you, it's lights out. Got it?

[Johnnie glowers at the threat, though it isn't unexpected or anything. He's almost more surprised they're being let go. Dante must have a shred of common sense.]

Watcha, asshole, same to you.

[Though if Dante is to be taken seriously, the World Enders must not have much territory anymore these days. Something went real wrong here. At least he and Chrissy can make sure there's still some reputation left, make sure these motherfuckers fear them just like they should.

Johnnie is too high on adrenaline to think about his nose right now. He strides on out through the middle of everyone, pistol at the ready in case any of them so much as lift a finger in the wrong direction, and once out of the building he pivots to keep an eye on the door for a moment as the two of them retreat, making sure the gang doesn't get up and chase. A few of them pour out the front door, but go no further than the edge of the sidewalk surrounding the building.

Even so, Johnnie eyes them, pistol pointed their way to keep them at bay while he walks out through the parking lot.]

You got it in you to make an example of 'em? They gotta know they can't follow us or they're fucked.

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