Summary

Maria Santos has organized a search party at St. Anthony's Catholic Church to find her brother, David, after rumors about a sighting hit the news. He's one of the eight missing workers. Local concern of the neighborhood drew the community to recruit for a search effort, their flyers attracting friends, loved ones, strangers. Molly, Chance, Tori and Ajax are paired off into their own four-person group among the collection of amateur search teams, only to notice that some people are wrong somehow, asking weird questions about things like David's 'medical history', and the fact they brought their own walkie talkies seals it in: they're operate like someone here on an assignment, not goodwill.

The group may not know each other well, but they unite on that shared intuition and compatible principles, resolving to find David before anybody else does. Those ill-intentioned strangers disappear into a white sedan to go canvas one of the search areas, and the team drives off in Molly's Volkswagen bus, following the route to their assigned search area to an abandoned Dairy Queen near Buffalo Bayo. There they spot the suspicious white sedan on an overpass. Under the bridge, they discover David hiding in a homeless encampment.

They make a mad dash for David, alerting protective camp residents (including a man with a claw hammer and a woman with a frying pan), but between a mix of supernatural calming abilities under the table, David's allies are disarmed and the man stops running, convinced they're there to help.

After they lose their pursuers for the time being, Ajax recommends taking David to Bellfort Diesel, given its owners' handle on making such a bright and recognizable car disappear. David reveals he saw "monsters" being made, and when he reveals that he saw a man named Omar come back 'wrong', Ajax remembers aloud that Omar was being tailed by agents set out to take him to a place called 'Gulf Coast Rehabilitation Center'. But David is calling it Bayshore. Maybe he's mis-remembering. Maybe there's more than one place.

David is safe for now, but the agents determined to recapture him are still out there.

Log

Participants

(Medina) The morning sun is already merciless, cooking the cracked asphalt parking lot behind St. Anthony's Catholic Church, the location word of mouth and posted flyers had announced for the search. A modest crowd has gathered under the shade of a massive live oak draped in Spanish moss that hangs from its branches like a funeral shroud. The distant urban hum of traffic provides a constant backdrop to the murmur of worried voices.

A few dozen people, about thirty, have shown up. Mostly family members, a patchwork of Latinos of various mezclas and their concerned White and Black neighbors, and some folks who, while out of place, must care about a good cause.

Maria Santos stands near a folding table laden with coffee in styrofoam cups and Texas style kolaches from the panaderia down the street, her tired but projecting voice carrying over the crowd as she explains the search grid someone drew on a sheet of poster board with magic marker.

"We're gonna split into groups of four or five," she's saying, pointing to areas marked along Buffalo Bayou. "Stay together, don't go anywhere alone, and if you see David or anybody who might /be/ David, bring him either here, or to one of these places here on this list." The same list - a small handful of mostly residential addresses and a furniture store - has been written faithfully over and over again to hand out, along with xerox copies of a photo of David.

The morning air hangs thick and humid, already promising another scorching day. Pickup trucks and aging sedans ring the parking lot, while a few late arrivals park along the street. In the distance, a freight train horn echoes from the rail yards, and the smell of the bayou drifts on the occasional breeze: mud, vegetation, and something chemical that never quite goes away.

(Each character rolls Perception + Alertness and then Intelligence + Streetwise|Networking, to various measures of success).

(Tori, you immediately notice several people who don't quite fit in. There's a guy in khakis and a polo shirt that's too clean for someone doing bayou searching. His boots are new, barely scuffed. His shirt hides whatever's clipped to his belt, it's maybe a pager? Maybe it's innocent, but it rubs you the wrong way. Another woman with a purse who you don't recognize at all is asking very specific questions about David's "medical history" and "recent behavior changes," which seems ... odd for a community search. You recognize a few people, like the lady who runs the panaderia, she definitely belongs here - but those two others stick out like sore thumbs.)

(Ajax, Chance, You're not familiar with any of these people, but that doesn't matter: something feels wrong about this gathering, but you can't put your finger on what exactly. Several people are giving you an uneasy feeling - too alert, too focused, moving with a kind of purposefulness that doesn't match the worried, scattered energy of the genuine family members. There's a coordination to how some of them are positioned that bothers you, and you catch glimpses of something boxy at a man in khakhis's belt. Maybe it's a pager. Maybe this is E.T. and it's a walky talky! His polo is oversized and hides the most of it, just a glimpse of that leather case it's in.)

(Chance, The hair on the back of your neck is standing up, but you can't identify specifically who belongs and who doesn't in this crowd. You just know something's wrong.)

(Chance) Chance lingers at the edge of the lot with Tori, one hand hooked in the belt of his jeans, the other shading his eyes against the blaze of morning sun. Sweat beads already along the curve of his jaw, though he doesn't look much bothered by it. The crowd's hum, the handouts, the smell of bayou rot and gasoline are all taken in with that sideways grin he wears more often than not.

He nudges Tori gently with his elbow, his voice pitched low for her ear alone. "Should we bet on who finds him first?" His gaze cuts back to Maria Santos, watching her hold the group together with tired determination. He nods once, respectful.

When she points to the map the nuwisha steps a little closer, not to the front, but where he can see without crowding. He plucks a photocopy of David Santos from the table, eyes flicking over it before tucking it into his back pocket, winking when he spots Ajax.

(Molly) Molly makes her way into the parking lot and heads towards the obvious knot of people, a wide-brimmed straw sun hat shove well onto her head because otherwise, frankly, her skin would be blinding people and the freckles truly do not need any further encouragement from sun exposure. Her eyes flicker over the various knots of people gathered who seem to, if not all know each other, at least /mostly/ know a few other people, and so she heads towards the center, looking for other stragglers or an organizer happy to place her where she'll be needed. She picks up the flyer and address list and looks at the information with the hyperfocus of someone who is Committing This To Memory. And then she folds them up carefully and slides them in her back pocket. There are a couple of people that she does shift slightly away from, more towards the other side of the table.

(Ajax rolls Perception + Occult vs 6 and fails.)

(Molly, you recognize most of the faces here from the neighborhood - there's Father Miguel of course, Maria Santos and her cousin Rosa, the Herrera family from Navigation Boulevard, old Mr. Vasquez who runs the corner market.... Mrs. Chen from the laundromat is here too, bless her heart. These are your people, your community coming together to help. There are some people you definitely can recognize aren't from here, like a man in khakis and an oversized polo shirt. A woman with a purse who keeps it close on her as she's asking questions from one of the Herreras about David, asking about 'recent behavior' to get a grasp on it all. Nothing seems amiss to you, just good folks doing what good folks do when someone needs help... But there's one man near the folding table who makes you inexplicably uncomfortable. He looks normal enough - clean-pressed shirt, asking appropriate questions - but being near him feels uncomfortable, that pressure drop before a thunderstorm, or when you walk into a room where someone's been crying. The worst parts of your day job - endless paperwork, fluorescent lights, the crushing weight of bureaucracy that squeezes all the joy out of simple things. He's talking to Maria about "proper search protocols" and "incident documentation," and every word makes the morning feel a little grayer, a little more hopeless.)

(Ajax rolls Perception + Occult vs 7 and fails.)

(Ajax tries to center himself to sharper senses, but Gifts are just that - and today it wasn't mant to be.)

(Ajax) Staring at the stack of photocopies of David's picture he's been handed, Ajax holds it out in front of him and tries to get a measure of the man, and get inside his head, maybe think like he does. This was ultimately impossible for him, and after a few long moments, he decided that was so quietly. Instead, he checked his watch, and then raised his head a little. At that time, he catches Chance's little wink and gives him a half-hearted smile. The truth was, the subject matter did seem somewhat important to him, and there was a sort of creeping suspicion that all was not well in the state of Denmark. His head turned slowly as he looked around at the crowd of gathered searchers, squinting through a dribble of sweat that careens down his brow, same as Chance. He turns a little on a pivot to face the group he's been assigned with. Sort of. That would be Chance, who he's exchanged that look with. Molly, who he doesn't know, but he gives her a small and polite smile nonetheless -- he's clearly withholding some thoughts, that's probably obvious to the woman -- and to Tori, alongside Chance.

His eyes dart back to the crowd. Something clouds his gaze, like suspicion. He just decides to rip the band-aid off for his group.

"Something about this makes me feel like they're treating it less like a search party, and more like a race to find David," he says, his sonorous voice tinged with ambiguous anxiety.

"And that we're not all on the same team," he adds a little darkly.

(Chance rolls Perception + Subterfuge vs 4 for 3 successes.)

(Medina) People are shaking hands, meeting one another, asking about David and figuring out logistics. Snippets of conversation float around about who's going in whose car, who's going to meet up at the corner store, what the fallback plan is, if somebody has a car phone, if somebody has a pager... Coffee is sipped from styrofoam cups, kolaches scarfed down to fuel the search.

Maria bustles around, and she steps up to the group. As Molly sidles off to one side of the table, ostensibly to put distance between herself and the flow of absentminded foot-traffic, Maria notices her, and she says, "Oh! I didn't know you were here! Hi, thank you for showing up!" she looks across towards Tori and Ajax, and with that frazzled manner that isn't /quite/ paying attention, still gives the woman direction: "If you join them, that makes four, and then we should be set."

(Chance, you channel coyote's wit, and your gut at first tells you, this man probably doesn't want to explain /why/ he's here to help find David, but as you really take your time, watch him, listen to him, you get a feeling he'd actually tell you what he intends to do if he finds David. Rather, there are plans this man has long-term, and /those/ plans are the locked box.)

(Molly) Molly does clearly see a few people she knows, though further away, giving Father Miguel a wave.. not that he's sure to see it with the height differential between her and most of the people around her. And then as she's coming around the table something there results in her getting a look like she's either smelled something bad or suddenly developed a headache, and then Ajax's Fatal Error of looking her way along with Maria's gentle nudge has her bustling... and she was made to bustle rather ferociously.. in the direction of those three folks who already know each other, and whether it's moving towards them or away from /something/ is perhaps difficult to tell. Six of one, perhaps. "Hi. I'd make a joke about being a third wheel but I'm clearly a fourth wheel, which is actually a good thing." and then she tilts her hat back so that people can get a better look. "I'm Molly.. own the pub down the way. Did any of you know David?"

(Chance) Chance's grin fades a shade as his eyes drift over the crowd. Not the worried mothers and cousins clutching flyers, but the man in khakis, hand brushing too often against the boxy shape hidden under his shirt. The nuwisha lingers on him just long enough, amber gaze sharpening, catching the flicker of something only he can see. Nodding a little he reaches into his pocket for his cigarette case.

He flicks a look back to Ajax, giving him a small nod, agreement unspoken but sure. His hand slips back to find Tori's elbow, a quiet touch meant to keep her close as the groups shuffle together. When Maria gestures Molly their way, Chance tips his head her direction, grin returning like the sun poking through cloud. "That settles it then. Four's a good number. Stronger on the road. Molly, good to meet you, I'm Chance, this is Molly, that's Ajax the BEST."

He glances between Ajax, Tori, and Molly in turn, the easy humor smoothing over his softly spoken and more serious words for them alone. "That guy," he says, motioning to the one he means as he places his cigarette between his lips to cover the movement. Sparking a match he talks softly around his cigarette, "Has some weird plans for when they find David. It's the thing he'd least want to talk about... Which means, its something fucking weird. We need to watch him, and the others, they don't have the same 'vibe' as the real searchers." With that he puffs the cherry to life.

(Medina) As suspicion dawns on the group, Maria claps her hands together several times, the sharp sound of her palms cutting through the murmur of conversations and the distant rumble of Saturday morning traffic.

"Alright, everyone! Time to head out before it gets too hot out there." She points to the poster board map taped to the folding table, its hand-drawn grid already wilting slightly in the humidity.

"Remember - groups of four, stay together, and if you see anything - ANYTHING - you call out to the other teams! We're all connected by these walkie-talkies," she holds up a small radio, "and Detective Morales has his pager if we need real help-- Oh!"

Maria has realized, she hasn't given the group she sent Molly to a walkie-taklie. In fact, it's the one she just held up. She gives a flustered smile as she approaches to hand it over. Behind her, the crowd begins to disperse toward their vehicles, voices rising as people call out final logistics - who's riding with whom, which group is taking which section, what time to meet back. The man in khakis who'd made Molly uncomfortable pulls out a radio of his own, speaking quietly into it as he walks toward a clean white sedan. The woman with the purse goes for the same vehicle as she checks her wrist-watch and the morning sun climbs higher.

At first, Maria hands the walkie-talkie to. At first. But she pauses, like she's caught a whiff, and her brain stuttersteps as she blinks. A nervous smile jumps into her features, and she ends up giving the walkie talkie to Chance, her weight shifted somewhat avoidantly, before she returns to her announcements.

(Ajax) Welcoming Molly into the fold by making a little space, and shaking hands with her on Chance's introduction, Ajax looks apologetically to the new arrival even as she is, just by dint of the circumstances, inculcated into the oddball feeling that Chance and Ajax are sharing about this search party gathering. His handshake is kind, presuming she takes it, but it's obvious that he's in a sort of ambient search mode that has him spreading his situational awareness out with a far net, and with a certain urgency that maybe the situation didn't call for. Well, did and didn't. As Maria starts to signal to the search parties, he begins speaking to the group quietly. His voice hushed a little as they extricated from the larger group proper by just a tad. He waits quietly for Maria to hand off the walkie talkie before he talks like this.

"Molly...it's a pleasure to meet you. I know all that seems a little conspiratorial --" he means Chance's explanation for the group, which he's clearly walking on eggshells to try and explain. "But, I have the same impression, and I don't really like it. I don't know David personally, but I've...how do I put it? As a concerned member of the community, I've seen some things surrounding Smith International's local employment practices that have raised a red flag or two with me. You don't have to believe us...but we feel like that not every person in this larger search party has good intentions for David, and other missing people in Smith International's employ like him. We want to find him to make sure he's safe. Are you with us?"

(Tori) "I dont like them." Tori's greetings have been shyly quiet as she's settled close with Chance and been mostly a silent accompaniment. Sure, there was a shy little smile and a mumured 'hello', but clearly between the trio that know each other, Tori is not the one who does the talking.

That one statement, however, comes as she watches the gentleman in khakis and the woman with the purse get into the same car and clearly be if not previously partnered up, they are now. Maria has mercifully stepped away from the quartet, leaving them to speak quietly amongst themselves.

(Molly) Molly's handshake is warm and perhaps surprisingly firm and confident for such a half-pint of a person. "Good to meet you too. Thanks for being accepting of me just glomming on to you all." and then her eyes cast over to the guy and the woman after him. "Oh, totally, he's a complete unmitigated piece of shit. And he's got the list of places to take Mr. Santos, so.. if we find him, we don't take him right to any of them, yeah?" she says, pushing the hat down again to better watch the movements of those people and that van without her staring being as noticeable. "So, are we on foot? Got a quadrant you like over any of the others?"

(Chance) Chance accepts the walkie-talkie from Maria with an easy nod, but the second she's gone, he starts twisting the knob, pressing buttons, turning the antenna like he's trying to fish a signal out of the sky. A burst of static spits out, then another as he flicks the channel back and forth. "Yep," he mutters, dry, "definitely the sound of people gettin' real important instructions."

After a beat he huffs, shaking his head at himself. "Yeah, no. You don't want me holding the radio. I got a talent for makin' things break when they're needed most." He offers it out to Molly instead, grin crooking sideways. "You look like the responsible type. You're our radio captain now."

He shifts a step closer to Ajax and Tori, the touch of his hand brushing Tori's shoulder before settling at his side again. "We stay in our own circle. That guy and his lady friend are running their own play, not ours, though, we could just follow them..."

Amber eyes flick over to Molly, sharp and amused all at once. "I like how you think. If we find David, we don't walk him right into their hands. We keep him with us till we know the whole board. Whoever finds David first wins a prize, mmmmmm... I'll chip in a cigarette."

(Molly) Molly takes the walkie talkie and digs out here keys with a look on her face that says that she kind of expected that this would be the way that things would go, with her driving and talking. "Well, hey.. I want to find out what they're up to too." she says as she leads the way across the parking lot to.. a goddamn VW bus painted in BRIGHT colors. "But hear me out. If we find David, and say that we're taking him to one of the sites," here she shakes her walkie talkie and then unlocks the doors of the van, " and instead, keep him somewhere safe while you all who want to find out more about creepy guy and preppy chick in the kidnapmobile go and waylay them because they will surely head to where we say we're bringing him? Does that sound reasonable?" she asks, as she climbs up and launches herself into the driver seat.

The inside has been built for comfort, though not the comfort of two big men and a tall-ish woman. Still, there's a couch in there that probably folds out into a bed, and cushions on the floor, and there is a passenger seat. There's also a cooler that is probably full of drinks.

(Tori) "I think the prize we win for finding David.. that would be David." Tori points out as she reaches over to give Chance a light poke in the ribs, clearly teasing the man. She then shoves both of her hands in the pockets of her cargo pants and ums to the rest of them. "We should probably pick a qudrant pretty far from others just in case.. uhh.. things go weird."

Tori listens to Molly as they all follow twoards her VW van and the 'dox's eyes widen. "Is this yours?" She sounds vaguely in awe as they climb aboard into the colourful vehicle. "This is.. AMAZING."

(Ajax) Ajax's eyes widen - he wasn't really expecting to meet such a ride-or-die by random lottery, but the expression on his face reads that he is feeling somewhere between lots of gratitude and uncertainty that he isn't crawling into a van with the greater evil here. It'd been a weird day for him anyway, so he was grateful to be given over to the flow again. He settles in and crunches down. "I think that's our plan," he agrees.

(Each player rolls Perception + Alertness, succeeds; Chance gets the most successes.)

(Medina) Molly's loudly colored trundlebug joins the other cars on the street, each of which eventually fans out, taking turns to go try here or there. The white sedan doesn't seem to be in any hurry - they're driving like people who know exactly where they're going and have plenty of time to get there. It happens to go along with them for a few miles before turning right once. Should Molly turn right herself, she'd find it turning right again - and she has better sense than to continue only to watch it make that move a third time and make them.

And so the group finds themselves elsewhere, using that little printed map and grid Maria'd xeroxed as a to-do list of where to hit.

They're somewhere in the warehouse district, past loading docks and chain-link fences topped with razor wire. The road leads Molly and her company down a service road that runs parallel to Buffalo Bayou, where the morning sun glints off the murky water and the air grows thick with that acrid burn of something that isn't supposed to be there but is good and stuck anyway.

Each of you notice it: a gravel lot of an abandoned Dairy Queen, its once-red and white sign pink from the bleaching sun, advertising blizzards that haven't been made here in years. From this vantage point, you can see the same make and model of white sedan off in the distance, slowly crossing the overpass that stretches overhead

Underneath that overpass is is a homeless encampment, a collection of tarps, shopping carts, and makeshift shelters clustered in the shade of the concrete pylons. And through the gap between two abandoned train cars, you each catch a glimpse of movement. Someone is scrambling deeper into the shadows under the stinking bridge, unmistakably that of someone trying to hide, and from this distance, the lanky frame matches David's photo.

'(Chance, you have the sense that if they're going where Y'ALL are going, you could beat them to the punch, but you'll have to move fast, maybe five minutes before they slide into parking within walking distance and get here.)

(Ajax rolls Charisma + Subterfuge vs 7 for 4 successes.)

(Molly rolls Intelligence + Kenning vs 8 for 2 successes.)

(Chance) Chance ducks into the van last, sliding the door shut with a palm and an approving look around the painted interior. "Yeah, this'll do," he says, low whistle curling into a grin at Tori's awe. "Good cover. Nobody suspects the Scooby gang."

When Molly lays out her plan, he leans against the back of the passenger seat, nodding once. "Smart. Feed the wolves a trail while we keep David breathing someplace safe." He flicks ash from his cigarette into an empty can in the cup holder, voice turning quiet. "Only thing is if we do it, we'd better be ready for them to notice quick. They've got eyes."

On the road, his attention sharpens, amber gaze cutting out the window toward the bayou. The smell of sour water and rusted metal wrinkles his nose. He catches the pink-bled Dairy Queen sign, then the pale sedan crossing overhead. His jaw tightens, but it's the movement beneath the overpass that pins him.

He taps the back of Ajax's shoulder with two fingers, leaning forward to make sure they all can hear him. "There," he says, pointing through the break between train cars. "That's our man it seems. Let's move fast, before our friends in white circle back. I get the sense from their movements they're headed this way so we gotta be quick." He shifts, hand brushing Tori's arm as he readies to slip out of the van. "Stick close," he murmurs, before flashing Molly a grin that's half challenge, half thanks. "Last one there is a rotten egg." With that he's dumps out of the van and and runs from that place they stop as close as possible.

(Molly) Molly squints a bit. "Yeah." she says, finding a place to pull over that, hopefully, isn't in full view of the overpass. "They have eyes, and I have a monstrosity... glorious for it's purpose, but sneaking is not it." she says, because before she clearly appreciated Tori's compliment on the van. "See if I were him, I'd've holed up in the DQ." And then she's unseatbelting and clambering down to lock the van and follow. "You know, running after him is not going to..." and then she realizes the absolute uselessness of that argument and starts running herself.. there's no way she's going to win, but she is absolutley going to do better than anyone else expects.

(Ajax) Quickly cottoning to the same movements under the bridge that Chance is (somehow), Ajax sits up a little bit, almost banging his head against the roof of the van before slumping down again. As invested in the moment as he is, through the bewildering nature of their odd new friendship, the tension that had come with following the sedan, and then the immediacy of the decision to ditch the vehicle and chance, it doesn't take him long to bolt out of the door and start pumping his arms and legs like a track and field star, taking the challenge to race as a useful spur to successfully secure what he assumes is David from an unfortunate fate. All of that sort of slides off in the physical exertion -- right now it was all just physicality and purpose, nothing else mattered, a little bit of weird euphoria in spite of the heaviness of the preamble.

(Ajax, - Alright Champion, you're channeling the the spirits of the experienced ancestors before you, and the tricks of every snake-oil salesman, hostage negotiator, every politician and manipulator before you fold their counsel into your psyche.)

(Tori) "Wait.." Tori frowns a little, long before they stop. "What's the Scooby gang?" Oh the sweet summer child that is Tori. "Is that good?" She's still puzzling over this as they come to a stop and then they've stopped..

Tori has to scramble to launch herself out of the van, and after the other three... "Why are we running?" She asks, although mostly to the breeze really. "Are we just going to pounce the poor guy? That's not very polite."

(Medina) Broken glass and debris scattered around the camp are waiting to answer the group as they make their dash into the area that reeks of sewage runoff. And though tent towns tend to have far more clutter and structure than /people/, they hear the car, they hear the crunch and thud of foot steps, and a couple of the residents stick their heads out from tent flaps and behind plywood to see just what the hell is going on.

An older man in sweatpants and a hawaiian shirt and skin like a Carnie from all this sun steps forward, stepping around a stuffed shopping cart. "Woah, woah woah! Slow down!" He arms himself impromptu with a claw hammer from said shopping cart, with the quickness of a guy who probably put it there himself. "Y'all can't just come running up in here like this!"

(Chance rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 6 (SPECIALTY) for 5 successes.)

(Ajax rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 6 and fails.)

(Molly rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 6 for 2 successes.)

(Tori rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 6 for 1 successes.)

(Ajax) Ajax's incredible form is offset by his incredible bad luck. A glass bottle lying on the ground he somehow didn't clock quickly has him rolling backwards and onto his back, facing the sky and blinking as the air rushes out of his lungs, while the rest of the group understandably barrel on ahead.

(Molly rolls Willpower vs 8 and fails.)

(Tori) As Ajax lands on his arse, Tori slows a bit, to pause and look back at him. "You okay?" She turns that way, letting Molly and Chance go on ahead towards dude with the crowbar as she ensures that there's no one left behind.

(Molly) Molly is, actually, way more nimble than expected. Way slower than other folks, but she did think to wear hiking boots, and she seem to be used to uneven terrain. Tori's comment gets a huffed out "Yeah, he's just gonna run harder and be more difficult to convince." and then the old guy has her attention for a second, and even gets "Yeah, yeah, we know..."

And then there is a suddenly falling Ajax and she is torn between a) person who is running and capable of it, no tin need of immediate assistance and b) MAN. DOWN. So she calls off her pursuit immediately, unburdening her sling bag. "Shit, are you okay? Don't move yet, did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?" she rattles off as she makes her way over, falling to kneeling and holding up three fingers.

(Chance) Chance takes off like he's been waiting for the gun to fire, cigarette clamped in his teeth as the smoke trails back in a crooked banner behind him. His stride is long, smooth, all lean muscle and perfectly placed steps to propel him along.

A stack of broken pallets blocks the way, and he doesn't break stride as boots hit wood, then he vaults, rolling over the other side to land light as a cat. A drainage ditch cuts across the path, slick concrete and weeds, and he clears it in one breathless leap, arms loose and balanced.

He threads through the maze of tents and shopping carts, twisting his shoulders sideways between tarps, hopping over a length of pipe that would've tripped another man. By the time the man with the tool steps out shouting, Chance is already slowing, one hand raised, the other plucking the cigarette from his teeth with a grin.

"Easy," he says, voice warm, winded but still carrying that trickster ease. "Ain't here to wreck your camp. Just chasing a friend that doesn't want to be found." He nods toward the shadows under the bridge where David disappeared. "Promise we'll tread careful." Passing off the cigarette with a pat, he jets off with a grin to make sure to find David as fast as possible.

(Ajax) Ajax holds up a hand for Tori and Molly as he sits up, waving off their worries and then trying to gesture to them to follow Chase as starts sucking in air like a champ and pull himself to his feet. Apparently, it was no cause for concern at all, he just wants them to go go go.

(Medina) The voice is in Spanish, but the panic in it strips away most of the need for subtitles: "(They found me, they found me!)" But whatever David stammers next, and whatever the alarmed response is from a woman's voice in the clutter, is rapidfire Mexican Spanish, amid the sound of fluttering tarps, scuffling feet and a couple of English shouts of "The hell's going on?!"

Only Chance understands it: 'Don't let them take me, I'm not crazy, I saw it with my own eyes! They make monsters in there!' - and the woman says, 'Stay put or they'll grab you -- DAMN IT, I said stay put!'

The man with the claw hammer raises his weapon, warning in his eyes as he menaces Chance - despite the warmth in the Comanche's voice he is not so easily disarmed. "Hey!" He chases after Chance, and a Black woman in bike shorts and two shirts who hides her hair in a carefully cared for silk scarf pokes her head out from her shelter, armed with a frying pan that she's ready to rock with. It's fear that drives her, but the sort of fear that has learned she has to fight. "Get outta here! That man's been through enough!"

(Chance rolls Charisma + Subterfuge vs 7 for 3 successes.)

(Molly) Molly does back off when Ajax starts to get up and she see's that both of his pupils are the same size. She does try and offer him a hand, whether he takes it or not. And then she shakes her head. "I am not running, no way to catch up to him,and at this point, it's a bad look." she points out and then she shakes her head. "We are legitimately here to help him." she offers as she makes her way over, and raises her voice just a little bit, and here she's very much using her Voice. "Hey.. David. I promise we're here to help." she says, pudgy little hands facing palm out and away from her sheathed bat. "But the folks in the white van that we clocked aren't. We want to get you to where they /aren't/."

She definitely gives the woman with the cast iron pan some serious distance on her path.

(Medina rolls 7 vs 6 for 1 successes for David's escape.)

<OOC> Medina says, "god damn it david, that is not running for your life."

<OOC> Ajax says, "He rolled on another bottle."

(Medina rolls 6 vs 6 for 4 successes for HAMMER TIME.)

(Medina rolls 6 vs 6 for 4 successes for Frying Pan Lady.)

(Chance rolls Dexterity + Athletics vs 5 (SPECIALTY) (WILLPOWER) for 3 successes.)

(Tori) "He bounces." Tori assures Molly as they get Ajax up off the ground and then turn back to .. the mess of people and stuff and who the hell knows where Chance and David has gotten too. This would be the talky talky part of things, and Tori is about as well suited to talky talky as most fish are to tap dancing.

(Chance, Alright CHAMPION, you're channeling the the spirits of the experienced ancestors before you, and the tricks of every hostage negotiator, crisis responder, and psychologist that came before you fold their counsel into your psyche to help you say Just The Right Thing in the coming moments.)

(Molly) Molly lifts her voice again, but this time it's the 'I have been professionally trained to project my voice in Carnegie Hall' lungs that have come to play. "Hey!" she lets out, making the tone as clear and crisp as she can, which is very. "This is a rescue mission, not a kidnap squad." she pulls off her hat, because the word 'dangerous' or even 'concerning' are not ones that tend to come up in the face of what Molly appears like.

(Chance) Chance bursts through the tangle of tarps, glass crunching underfoot. The hammer man and the woman with the pan are right on him, but he runs crooked, juking at the last second, slipping past them like smoke through fingers.

Then, there's David. Half-hidden, eyes wild, stumbling deeper like a spooked deer. Chance lunges and catches him by the arm, spinning him half-around before the man can bolt again. Spanish rolls smooth and urgent from his mouth, each word sharp with conviction even as the gift lays its weight under them: "I'm not here to take you. I know what you saw. You're not crazy. They make monsters in there. We're here to guide you to safety."

His grip eases, but he doesn't let go, dark eyes locking on David's. "You want to stay free of them? You come with me. Right now. We'll keep you safe." Behind them the shouts keep rising, but the nuwisha doesn't look back. He tucks his shoulder in close, shifting David with him, already pulling the man toward the way they came. His free hand lifts in a quick gesture toward the others: Ajax, Tori, Molly in silent signal to be ready to move. "Trust me," he adds, voice low, urgent, still in Spanish as he tugs him along. "Those people in the white car? They're not your friends, but if they get stupid, we'll fuck'm up, just stick close."

(Ajax) Ajax takes Molly and Tori's offered help and pulls himself to his feet with her help. He's pretty hefty weight wise, but his legs bend in a way that makes it so they aren't supporting him for long before he's on his feet and gratefully thanking her under his breath before Tori and Molly have pulled ahead to start dealing with the problems hounding Chase's feet. Once he's gulped down enough air, he's bringing up the rear and letting Molly take the lead while he sticks near Tori on that side of things, just trying to make sure he doesn't miss out on anything critical that could endanger this critical interception.

(Molly rolls Perception + Alertness vs 6 and fails.)

(Tori rolls Perception + Alertness vs 6 for 3 successes.)

(Ajax rolls Perception + Alertness vs 4 for 5 successes.)

(Chance rolls Perception + Alertness vs 4 for 6 successes.)

(Medina) The woman with the cast iron pan steps closer to where Chance has caught David, her voice sharp with protective anger: "What are y'all saying to him?!" Her own fear holds her back from swinging now that she's closed in - she wields it more defensively, but the man with the hammer bounds close and threatens to crash into this 'negotiation' He raises his hammer behind Chance's head as the man reaches through to David, whose wide eyes somehow manage to bulge even bigger and he throws out a staying hand and shouts, "WAIT!" in English. And so the hammer comes down on thin air, redirected, but the man still holds onto it.

And as the others start showing up, he steps back, his breathing paced quickly, alongside the other woman who is one of very many needing to know just what the -hell- is going on.

"He says - he says they know about the monsters," Santos stammers quickly as the others have time to catch up, his accent thick in his panic, but intelligible: "That the people in the white car aren't here to help!" His hands shake as he gestures frantically. "Jade, they make monsters in there! At that place they kept telling me to go to! I'm not crazy, I saw Omar come back and he wasn't Omar anymore!"

The woman - Jade - lowers her pan slightly, confusion replacing some of the anger. "David," she says bluntly, "I love you but you /gotta/ stop hittin' that pipe or whatever it is you doin'. Then they stop sending you to the head-doctor, because then you stop saying /crazy shit/."

(Tori, Ajax, and Chance, you hear the whisper of tires and approaching engines. Not just one vehicle, but two. Through the gaps in the abandoned train cars, you can see the white sedan has been joined by a dark panel van, both moving slowly down the service road like sharks circling.)

(Ajax and Chance , from somewhere near the road, comes the crackle of radio static and a woman's quiet voice: "Targets located. Moving to contain.")

(Molly, Standing near Jade feels like being in a dentist's waiting room and her voice grates like institutional beige paint. Her words about David "hitting the pipe" and needing to "stop saying crazy shit" carry a crushing certainty that there's nothing special in the world, that everything can be explained by addiction or mental illness or simple delusion. When she talks about "the head-doctor," there's a resigned acceptance that this is just how the system works - people get broken, they get processed, they get fixed or discarded. No magic, no mystery, just bureaucratic machinery grinding people down.)

(Tori rolls Intelligence vs 6 for 1 successes.)

(Ajax rolls Wits + Academics vs 6 for 3 successes.)

(Molly) Molly starts to get a little wince and backs away from the direction of Jade's voice, digging her keys back out of her pocket. "I am going to go back to the van and get it started and the doors open so that you guys can run in and peel off as soon as it's go time, that way there's no chance of us stalling out at a bad moment." she says, loud enough for folks to hear, which isn't precisely the direction of her feet. Her feet are definitely away from the lady with the frying pan with a slight edging towards the direction of the van. Triangulation while retreating. Weirdly, the mentions of monsters only brings a soft low grumble and a slight look heavenwards rather than thinking everyone is crazy.

(Tori, Ajax, You remember that those guys whose car you reappropriated in the name of gaia and left in a ditch somewhere after exorcising omar - they had that paperwork that delia read and explained, that they were suppoesd to take Omar to a 'rehabilitation' center.')

(Ajax, you remember more. Perhaps because Afton finally got you to reconsider that MAYBE this wasn't dungeons and dagrons, and forced you to re-read everything he gathered. You remember that when Delia read the paper aloud to Tori, it said, 'Locate subject at known racing activities near Pearland. Approach as concerned representatives. If subject becomes violent or uncooperative, contain immediately. Transport to designated EAP facility for evaluation. Transport to Gulf Coast Wellness & Rehabilitation Center' and then the address, somewhere on Sheldon Road.)

(Ajax) Just as soon as Ajax can hear, with a distant ear augmented by what he'd learned long ago from a wolf spirit, that they had incoming company that intended to get David, and maybe the others too, his mind races thanks to the language they were using. "They're going to try to take him to Gulf Coast Wellness and Rehab if they get their hands on him -- and they're going to do what they have to, in order to get their hands on them," he explains to the group. "I remember reading that -- I remember reading that from documentation they were keeping on Omar," he says urgently. He realizes that this makes him sound even more suspicious than he had before this got started, but as the tires from the concerned parties screech forward, he's starting forward in the hopes of just body blocking the entire approach using his powers of a pedestrian with automatic right of way.

(Ajax rolls Strength + Brawl vs 6 for 2 successes.)

(Chance) Chance doesn't let go of David's arm, but his grip shifts to less of a grab, more of a guiding pull as he angles his body between the man and the hammer still hovering close. He glances back at Tori, a flick of amber eyes that says 'Now', and together they flank David, one on either side, moving him quick but steady toward the gap in the camp.

Spanish flows from Chance's mouth in a low rush, each word pressed with the weight of his gift: "I know Jade loves you. I know they told you to shut up. But you're not crazy. We believe you. We've seen it too. The people coming now? They'll drag you back to that place. You walk with us, you live free. Right now... But, most people don't know, so maybe don't talk too much about it, it'll put them all in danger from those people."

The sound of tires on gravel rolls closer, radios crackling just beyond the train cars. The nuwisha lowers his head as if against the sun, but it's to hide the sharp grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans close to David as they hustle. "They're hunting you. Trust your feet. We're getting you out."

His hand lifts to wave Ajax and Molly in tight, already scanning the path toward the street. "Van's our hole in the fence," he says, half to the group, half to David, urging him into motion. "We hit it fast, and we don't look back... If anyone tries to stop us, we break their nose."

(Molly) Molly gets back to the van, quickly, but not so quickly that she's going to make a lot of noise, fall, or sprain her ankle. Before she walks out into the open she checks in all directions, including up... because death too often comes from above, and then skitters to the van, unlocking the drivers door from the outside and then getting all the doors not only unlocked, but open. Then she starts the van, turns it around so that she's facing in the best direction for a multi-choice escape route, and buckles herself in while she waits for the crowd to leap in, A-Team style. This is probably the C-Team though, she's no H. M. Murdock.

(Medina) David's resistance crumbles under Chance's urgent Spanish and the approaching sound of engines. "Okay, okay," he whispers, letting himself be guided toward the van.

"David," Jade calls after him, "Don't go with strangers!" But her voice already sounds resigned, like she's watching another inevitable disaster unfold...One her pessimism has already concluded the ending to.

The team's timing is just slightly off: as Ajax positions himself to intercept their approach, blocking their sight lines with his body by striding confidently forth like a bulletproof pedestrian, the lead vehicle has to slow down to avoid hitting him, brakes screeching, horn blaring in offense. Through the windshield, Ajax can see the driver throwing up an angry hand, while his passenger speaks rapidly into a radio.

By then, Molly's van grumbles to life with a rumble that echoes under the overpass. Meanwhile, the woman passenger -- the woman with the purse -- rolls down the window, her shoulder bouncing almost comically with how frantically she's manually /literally/ rolling down the window. "SIR!" she shouts. "You need to move!" She undoes her seatbelt and starts to get out, Ajax's strategic distraction buing precious seconds as Molly meanwhile turns the van around. She carries the purposeful huff of a woman who will Do Something About This, but when she makes eye contact with Ajax, something stirs within her all too familiar, a freezing hesitation like a rabbit or a deer that caught the whiff of a predator. She stays in the car.

The doors to their escape hang open like a mouth, each ready to swallow the group, and David stumbles toward it, supported by Chance and Tori, his eyes darting between the approaching team and this bizarre rescue vehicle painted like a vibrant jungle bird.

The second vehicle - the panel van - tries to circle around to cut off their escape route, but the narrow space between abandoned train cars forces it to take the long way around.

From behind them, the hammer-wielding man who has watched this unfold beside his pessimistic partner shouts a warning: "Y'all better run! More cars coming from the other direction!"

David reaches the van just as the driver of the sedan grabs the radio to speak into it: "Target is mobile. Repeat, target is mobile."

(Molly rolls Wits + Streetwise vs 6 for 2 successes.)

(Molly rolls Dexterity + Drive vs 6 for 3 successes.)

(Ajax) Ajax waves his arms a couple of times as all of his compatriots start loading into the back of his van, an event that is sort of on the periphery of his awareness. He's becoming increasingly clear that his face is right in front of the people he's probably been trying to infiltrate, and that a lot of that was burning up like pine needles right now. He did his best to lean in and make it seem like this was an honest mistake.

"It's a tent city!" he explains to the group, even as the van behind them starts to pull around, clearly more interested in targets and quarries than good sense. For him, he was just stalling for time and kind of saying truths to cover for lies.

"You can't just pull through, you'll run someone over! They're all milling around! We almost did it ourselves."

All of this yap and yammer was just to play dumb to give Molly enough time with Chase and the rest in tow to get out of dodge while pretending to get left behind. He was just overlooking getting clocked as a danger by the woman and was prepared to play dumb to that too.

(Molly) The second, the SECOND all four of the folks she expects have both feet in the van? The target becomes very mobile indeed. "CLOSE THE DOORS" she yells, and then hits the gas and the bus leaps forward, sweeping for the best possible escape route given the givens. "Anyone want to give me the upshot on what sort of monsters we're talking about here? I am not going to drive through a tent city. And name me a safe person who we can take him to, preferably someone I've met!" she calls out. "Father Miguel at the church?"

(Chance) Chance swings David up into the van with Tori's help, then wheels back around at the squeal of tires. His pack that was left in the van yields a flash of steel as he yanks free a tomahawk, spinning it once in his palm. The sedan lurches forward, horn blaring, driver leaning hard on the wheel.

With a grin he takes three quick steps, shoulder loose, and whips the weapon. The spin sings once, twice, before the tomahawk bites deep into rubber. The tire bursts in a thunderclap of air, the car pitching sideways as the rim sparks against asphalt.

"GET TO THE CHOPPA!" Chance bellows in his worst Arnold impression, pointing hard toward the van. His laugh cuts through the screech of metal as he waves Ajax in, eyes bright and wild.

He's already moving backward, step by step, keeping himself between the sedan and his people as the white smoke of burned rubber curls into the air. "C'mon, hermano," he calls to Ajax, sharp and urgent, "time to disappear." Then he's in the van and pat Molly's shoulder to tell her its time to go.

(Ajax) He can hear the tomahawk sailing over his shoulder before he sees it lodging in the tire and crashing the white sedan. Ajax realizes in horror that this has become a very different situation that has spun far out of his control. Chance's bid gives him time to beat feet and pile into the back of the van, finally, and he leaps in as they screech forward, slamming the door behind him. "Bellfort Diesel -- it's in South Houston. Give me a second and I can remember the uhh --" he rubs his head a little as he clambers to sit upright into the van. "The address."

(Medina rolls 7 vs 8 and fails for the sedan.)

(Medina rolls 7 vs 6 for 4 successes for the panel van.)

(Medina) The white sedan lurches to a halt, its front end sagging as the shredded tire flaps uselessly against the rim. The driver pounds his fist on the steering wheel while his passenger barks coordinates into the radio. They're out of the immediate chase, but not out of the game.

And as Molly picks up (eventual) speed, the panel van comes around to clip in the distance, roaring around the abandoned train cars with the determination of someone who gets paid very well to not lose targets. Molly catches it in her rearview mirror as she navigates between the concrete pylons, its dark bulk gaining ground on the service road.

The van might not win any races, but resourcefulness and speed are two different things, and the pint-sized woman catches what looks like a dead-end alley between two warehouses - one that just quite isn't. The van tilts alarmingly on two wheels for a heart-stopping moment before slamming back down in that sharp turn, and when it rights, the loading dock that yawns before them opens back onto Telephone Road, if you don't mind scraping some paint off your vehicle.

The panel van follows, but has to brake hard when the alley narrows. By the time they realize Molly's route, the colorful VW has already bounced through the loading dock area and merged into Saturday morning traffic, just another weird Houston vehicle among the pickup trucks and lowriders.

Behind them, David slumps against the van's interior wall, shaking. "They're not giving up," he whispers. "They never give up. They'll find me again, they're gonna take me back to Bayshore..."

From the walkie talkie that Maria had given them comes a crackling transmission on an entirely different frequency from another side of Houston, just barely, barely audible on the edge of its service range. A discouraged voice says, "Well, he's not ..." <crackle, fzzt> "... at Antoine's..." <wzzt> "..Danae is gonna look at..."

(Molly) Molly says "You mean J? I know J. Oh he's gonna be So Pissed." she says and then she shakes her head. "David.. if needs be, I'm going to get you somewhere you won't be found. There's places. No one deserves to have to go with those people. The word bad vibes doesn't even begins..." and then she careens around that corner that doesn't look like it's a corner and out onto the street, where she can use the traffic to get away, and make her way to Belfort Diesel.