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Kwik Stop | Thursday Afternoon

Isaac thought his little task was kind of dumb, but if he was more self-aware he'd realize it was fitting for his status as pack buttmonkey (a title he probably shared with Jackson). But, hey, he'd get first dibs on the good snacks and he brought Isabelle along so it was kind of like a date! A date to get Ho Hos and Snowballs. And possibly they'd get to punch people, which was always fun.

"I hope this place has those nasty microwave burritos. They're awesome."

[For the modded lady and some bad guys!]

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The noisier psycho juggled the grenade from hand to hand, eyeing them crazily. Probably. Hard to tell with the mask.

"SNOOOOOOOTCH! Pretty pretty pretty! French me, mommy! I'll lick your wounded elbows!"

He was ever so charming.

"We just need to get him down long enough to get the grenade out of his hands, then it'll be easy," Isaac said, eyeing the silent one. The fact that he didn't talk creeped Isaac out. "I pounce on the loud one, you keep the silent one from stabbing me in the back?"

You could laugh at him for how he lisped with a mouth full of fangs later.

"That works for me." That went for his words as well as the narrative. (It was pretty funny, shut up.) She held her Seaph blade up, and called out the name of an angel. The blade lit up with white light.

And that was when the loud psycho pounced first, screaming something that was both not fit for a public setting like this, as well as highly anatomically improbable.

It was holding the grenade above its head, with both hands.

Isaac would have been impressed by the creative insult if, you know, the guy wasn't trying to kill him. With a low growl Isaac pounced, meeting the psycho halfway, trying to knock him to the ground.

The psycho went down, knocking over a display, cackling madly.

Still grasping the grenade, though. That might become a problem.

Meanwhile, Isabelle charged at the silent psycho, slashing at its chest with her blade. The psycho managed to look vaguely affronted by this, although it remained silent.

Also, bleeding.

The fact that it didn't go immediately up in flames, engulfed in heavenly fire, was something Isabelle found both alarming and oddly reassuring. It meant these things weren't mundanes.

Trying to yank the grenade out of the psycho's hand seemed like an excellent way to have the pin pulled accidentally, in Isaac's opinion. So instead Isaac lifted a clawed hand in the air before bringing it down against the psycho's throat.

Ripping someone's throat out might have been a werewolf cliche, but the effectiveness made it a classic for a reason.

It really was effective. The psycho gurgled. There was blood, it was gross. "Ouchie-wowchies... you... bitch."

So you would've thought it couldn't have possibly pulled the pin out between Isaac raising his hand and bringing it down, right?

Well, now the grenade was beeping rather urgently, so there went that optimistic theory.

Edited 2013-12-12 21:59 (UTC)

And the beeping was what isabelle heard, right as she swung her blade across the silent psycho's neck. Turning around, eyes wide, she missed the psycho giving her the finger as it crumbled down.

"Isaac!"

Which was urgent situation speak for 'please throw that thing out of here before it blows us up'. Except more succinct. The street could take it. They couldn't.

"Got it!" See, he could speak urgent situation fluently. He grabbed the grenade out of the douchebag's hand and chucked it out through the door with as much strength he could muster. "Get down!"

Because street debris would not be fun to get into your eyes.

No, it definitely would not.

And Isabelle had no trouble hitting the floor. She'd just complain about the psycho blood she'd landed on later.

The boom from outside along with, yes, the flying debris attested to what a good plan getting down had been. Even though it was a slightly smaller explosion than she'd expected, and probably wasn't going to be heard throughout the island with all the Hyperion machinery working.

The small explosion still sounded loud to Isaac's sensitive ears. At lease he hadn't been blown to bits. Upside.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, shaking debris out of his hair and letting his features mold into human ones again.

"Ugh," said Isabelle, which was good enough for a yes, probably, even though she really meant the blood smeared across her Shadowhunter armor. Gross. She pushed herself up to her knees, then glanced around. Just in case any other pyschos decided to come running, or something.

But it didn't look like it.

"Yes, I'm okay. Are you?"

"Fine," he said with a nod. "Not exactly what I expected from a doughnut run."

"No." Understatements all around. She got to her feet, wiping her bloody hand on her thigh. Her gear could take it. "We should probably grab some of those, since that's what we came here for."

Isaac nodded. "After what we had to go through to get it, I'm grabbing some of everything."

"Excellent idea," Isabelle replied as she went to do just that. "By the way, you sound funny when you speak with fangs."

Had to be mentioned. Had to. Even if it was just to relieve the tension from the battle and the minor explosion.

"I'm not used to it yet," he grumbled. "I need practice."

"Yes, you do. Because it's embarrassing."

But maybe not right now. Stepping over the crumpled body of a psycho, she grabbed a bag to shove the snacks in.

"But not as embarrassing as getting caught here by another bunch of lunatics, so we should get a move on."

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Kwik Stop | Thursday Afternoon

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