11 Feb 2010 : Loose Dirt
Loose Dirt
Summary: An earthquake wakes up something that would have been better left sleeping. It also has a mad case of the munchies, something the Blue Earth locals take issue with.
Date: 11 Feb 2010
Related Logs: None
Players:
Benny..Haven..Mia..

All work and no play makes Benny a dull girl, but someone has to pay the bills and that's fallen on Benny's shoulders for a long time. She's currently making a round with the coffee pot, refilling people's mugs with a fresh shot of life giving Java. Some days, it's just going through the motions and even her normal small talk is a bit lacking today.

Haven steps out of the Diner's bathroom, a duffle bag over her shoulder, and an entirely different outfit on than when she went in, duty swap without ever having to hit the fire station. She wears a less work-friendly pair of jeans, and a reconstructed tee made of a grey undershirt, and a shredded black tee over it, tied up the sides to fit. The neckline is a little low, but since a shipment of some of her stuff arrived, she has more than three tees and 2 pairs of jeans to wear. Revel in variety! "… I missed you the last couple of days. I hope everything went okay down in Vegas." She comes out, holds the door for the woman behind her, and adds, "Benny was right. That baking stuff took that burned sage smell right out of the master bedroom."

Mia's in her usual uniform, though it's a bit more paint spattered than usual. "We actually made it back the first night," she says quietly. "Just got a little distracted." Her lips quirk slightly. "On the upside, we've now got the upstairs rooms painted and all of that furniture moved around. I plan on tackling the attic this weekend. That reminds me," One hand brushes over her jeans' hip, as if drying it. "What do you say we ask her out to the house for dinner? We can make our own pizza and have some beer."

The Diner is about as full as it gets, which is to say it isn't. However, there are a few diehards: an old indian in the corner smoking a pipe in blatant violation of state law, one of the town tarts in the lap of one of the town miscreants and Old Lady Whitton enjoying a little too much the largish burger placed before her at the diner counter. Truly, this is an idyllic slice of small town America.

Unfortunately, it is interrupted by a tremor. Barely noticeable at first, the pans in the kitchen start to rattle and then the silverware at the tables. The Diner itself quakes as if in fear and then about twenty seconds after it starts, the quake slows and stops.

Vargas is just hanging up the payphone as the two women step out of the hallway, and the slight tremor's felt. Or as it turns out when the silverware starts rattling, not so slight. "Perdon," he murmurs, touching Mia's shoulder to prevent her from running into him. His brows furrow slightly as he heads back to his table, eyes turned briefly toward the window that overlooks the parking lot.

"Definitely. That house gives me the creeps when it's empty. And I'm sure getting out of this place for a night would be a nice change." Haven slides her hands into the pockets of her jeans, duffle sliding across her hip, trapped by her arm. It sticks out far enough to be a weapon of she turns while standing too close to anyone's table. "What color did you go with for the upstairs?" Haven's just passing by Vargas' as the slight tremor begins. "Hola, Rafael, como — shit." That isn't a traditional greeting. She tosses her bag into the nearest booth, then grabs the table, and slides into a seat to wait out the quake.

As the tremor starts, Benny stops, a look of confusion quickly turning to one of panic. She puts a hand on the counter to steady herself, and feel the vibrations. "Sweet lord in heaven." Her fingers loose the grip she had on the empty coffee carafe and it bounces once on the linoleum before shattering at her feet. Her eyes pinch shut, waiting out the termors.

Mia tumbles slightly into Vargas, but luckily not too badly. "Perdoname," she murmurs, bracing her hip against one of the booths, holding on with one hand. "Cream," she tells Haven. "Which is about what I think we're going to be if these damned tremors keep up. California's supposed to fall into the ocean, not Nevada. WE'RE supposed to be the new beachfront…" The shattering gets her attention and she looks over to Benny. "You ok, Benny," she calls out to the waitress.

The old indian in the corner just keeps on puffing his pipe during the tremor, but the tart and her miscreant boyfriend of the week… let's call him Joe Bob, well they do the smart thing and run for the outdoors. Meanwhile, Old Lady Whitton loses her burger in the quake as the plate goes sliding onto the floor. She dives after it, of course, being of the fiesty aged sort, but her legs buckle and she goes sprawling on the linoleum.

Haven watches the sundry reactions to the quake, then rises as it ends. She shakes her head slightly, and nods to Vargas as he heads out to check on the herd. "That was bracing." She tries not to watch the old lady go after the burger, but ends up doing so out of the corner of her eye.

Benny toes aside some broken glass, "Aside from that coming out of my pay, I'm fine." She skirts around, not leaving the safety of the arm's reach of the counter. "You alright, Misses Whitton?" The waitress asks as she tries to get over there to check on the old lady, her voice instinctually rising a few notches in volume to compensate for geriatric hearing.

Mia's enroute to help the older woman as well, though detours to let Benny handle it. "I think I'd much prefer my 'bracing' to come in the form of a cold shower," she comments, tone dry.

The quake is followed by silence. Mostly. Someone in town must have enjoyed them on account of there's the sound of gunshots fired not too far off (in the direction of the Trailer Park no less.) However, scarcely a minute passes since the Lorleen and Joe Bob head outside and there's a scream. It's followed by a sickening crunch and something hitting a window of the diner. Whatever it is, it left a red smear on the glass. In the parking lot, visible from within the diner is Lorleen running away down the road, barely visible in the moonlight and behind her a big splotch of dark is moving.

Inside, the old lady mumbles something intelligible at Benny and tries to lift herself up. Of course, at the scream and the subsequent unidentified bloody part hitting the window, she's up and then over behind the counter in a flash. The Indian doesn't move, but he does reach down to his belt and loosen his gun in it's holster.

"Same." Haven reaches over to snitch a fry from the abandoned plate of food on the table. She moves toward the counter, but glances over at the scream. Instead of waiting, she takes off for the door, tugging her keys out of pocket as she goes. She heads for the lot, and her truck which is parked in it. Med it or weapons, which will she return with?

What. Was that. Was that an arm? A leg? "What the fuck just hit the window. What the FUCK?!" Benny was momentarily distracted from the old lady, and when she turns back…well, who thought old ladies could vault like that? Benny skitters backwards on the floor until her back is pressed up against the counter and she's just staring at the streak of red on the window. She starts muttering something, sounds vaguely of the Lord's Prayer but the words are all jumbled and incorrect as if she knows that's what she is supposed to say in a time like this, but never bothered to learn the damn thing.

Ohholyshit. Mia just stands there, eyeing the window for a moment, before she glances over at Benny. "Got an extra shotgun back there, by any chance," she asks hopefully. And no, she makes no move to go after, or stop, Haven. Clearly she'll put the pieces back together later, if needed.

Haven skitters midstep, skidding across three feet of gravel and sending some flying. She draws up just short of a five foot hole in the lot. "Fuck!" She sidles around it, stepping onto a meaty chunk as she goes, crunch-stepping her way to the truck. Slight detour. "The holy hell…" The Joe Bob parts littering the lot make the decision for Haven, so that when she reaches the truck, it's the Mossburg she goes for, not the medkit.

As Haven has found out, there are pieces of Joe Bob all over the gravel parking lot. The piece that hit the window was his whole arm, his fist clenched as if to strike. There's a tattoo up near the top of the arm that says 'Momma' in a heart. The hole in the lot is deep and the edges precarious as gravel slips into the tunnel that was created.
Lorleen pounds pavement down the road not too far off, but that dark shape behind her looms up and in a singular motion sweeps her off her feet to hit the ground hard. She screams again. It's still hard as hell to make out whatever it is, save that it's larger than a man.

"There's a sh..sh.." Benny swallows hard, trying that again. "A shotgun underneath the register." There's a long shaky exhale as she tries to gather her wits about her, a difficult thing to do seeming how there's blood dripping down the window and something Really Bad (tm) happening outside. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" If something is going to EAT THEM, she better get off the floor. She reaches behind her, hooking a hand on the lip of the counter and drags herself to her feet. "Something…something's attacking that poor girl…"

Mia nods to Benny, looking a touch pale herself. "I'll get the shotgun and go out with Haven," she tells the waitress. "I don't know what it is out there, but you're right." Shit. She's right.

"I just put on a clean shirt," Haven mutters, pulling the shotgun out before she shoves a handful of shells down her shirt into her bra. She shoves off of the truck, and takes off after the girl and the mystery thing. Smarter people might hesitate. "I just wanted pie." Her feet pound across the lot, boots kicking up dust. "RUN, hooker!" She tries to close the gap, but they had a head start.

Lorleen's leg hits the ground at an awkward angle and there's a snap, which just causes her to scream some more. Despite clawing the ground with her garishly manicured nails, she doesn't make much headway in getting away from her pursuer. Luckily or perhaps unluckily for her, the creature doesn't end the tart's suffering immediately. Instead, acting as if Haven isn't running to the rescue, whatever it is leans in and puts pressure on Lorleen's right calf til it too snaps. SNAP. Ouch.

As Mia makes to get the shotgun, Old Lady Whitton rises from behind the counter with it clenched in her old lady mitts. "Let me at the son of the bitch!" She makes for the door.

With Haven leading the charge, and Mia shortly behind…hell…even Old Lady Whitton is getting in on the action. Benny? Benny though is still hesitant about following after the big bad evil snapping Lorleen like dry kindling. She's edging towards the door as if drawn by the notion she has to do /something/ but she isn't sure exactly what. "Oh god oh god oh god…" Is just chanted beneath her breath like a mantra.

Mia heads out the door, grabbing a salt shaker from the counter as she goes. Running toward Haven, the shaker gets passed from hand to hand. Like a dolt, in the face of something coming out of the ground and eating a tart, Mia calls, "We're behind you, Haven!"

Right behind being about a minute and a half back, unless there's pursuit at a flat out run. Haven's still hot on the heels of whatever hungry thing burst from the ground. Chuk-chk. Haven's boots hit the shoulder of the road, then she skitters up onto it and raises the shotgun. She lines up with the dark shape between her and the town tart. There's a better than average chance that none of the buckshot will hit Lorleen from this angle. Maybe. Haven grimaces, raises the shotgun to the sky, thinking better of the plan, and fires off a shot to try to startle the … animal? BOOM.

Startle, no. Get the attention of? Yes. The dark shape hunched over Lorleen spins to face Haven. For a moment it's still and then, slowly, it starts to ground scraping lope towards her. Whatever it is, it isn't human. Much too large for that. It's skin is a dull black and it's eyes are needle point red, focussed on the woman with the offending weaponry in her hands. As it nears, the smell of death becomes acutely intense.

The shotgun booms and the beastie turns, Benny now afflicted with the anatomically painful rearrangement of her heart in her throat. "Haaaaaaaaaaven!!" Her voice screeches out a warning, even if she hasn't made it five steps past the front door and is unarmed.

Mia continues to run, going flat out toward Haven, lips moving, though no sound comes out. When she gets a good sight of whatever that thing is loping toward her cousin, well, Mia does what she does best - she shrieks. It's nice and shrill, with a nice dose of fear behind it.

Haven hoofs it over the road, boots scraping over the asphalt, and stands in the middle to raise the weapon to the incoming beast. She braces, standing in the moonlight with the weapon raised, all vigilante and shit. So she got the thing off of the town tart, and now it's after her. There might have been a flaw in this plan. "Shit." BOOM. Chuk-chk. BOOM. "DIE!" Maybe yelling will improve her aim.

Somewhere off in the distance, a coyote howls… right about when Mia shrieks and Benny screeches. It's a symphony puncuated by the scrabbling footfalls of the beast that has Haven in it's sight. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP. The first blast from the shotgun knocks the creature sideways, but on it comes, hurling itself right at the woman as she tries her second shot.

Instead of red hot death, however, there's a visible (to Haven) warping in the air around her like one might see on the highway on a really warm day. It's neither really warm nor day, though. Whatever it is, the creature literally bounces right off of it and careens into the pavement, shredding it up some. Now that it's close, Haven can make out scales dotting red irritated looking flesh coating the beast. It's heavily muscled with a canine-like muzzle. And it's also -really- pissed off now.

As the Thing bounces instead of pounces, Benny breathes a sigh of relief. It's short lived, however, when she realizes…well…that only egged it on. "Haven, get out of there! Everyone get back in the god damned Diner!"

"Benny, get me the gun," Mia says quietly, watching the thing bounce off Haven. "Please," she adds. The salt shaker bounces from hand to hand as she goes still, utterly still. It's turned upside down surreptitiously, salt trickling around her in a circle, though this one is more closed than the last. Oddly, it's as if she's gearing up to throw it at the beastie.

Haven takes a half step back, then tips over onto her ass. She raises the shotgun again, but doesn't fire, as the protective barrier raises around her. What the fuck. "What the fuck." She scrambles to her feet, away from the beast, back along the road toward the Diner's lot.

Ironically, the creature's thoughts are about the same as Haven's. What. The. Fuck. Only they're less wordy and more filled with red hot hatred. Scrambling to it's feet and tearing holes in the concrete in the process, it starts pounding pavement after the dark haired shotgun-wielder. Each time it leaps at Haven, it bounces off of the shield protecting her. Snarling and slavering, it pants after the last rebound and then springs forward in a leap, aiming for a spot just above Haven… and flying right over her head to sprawl on the pavement in front of her.

Benny looks to Old Lady Whitton at Mia's ploy, but she's partially distracted as her mind races as to how she can help in this situation and not…well. Not expose herself or her particular talents. "Ma'am. The shotgun. Please. Let us use it." She makes her way towards the woman, shaking hands extended for the weapon.

Yep, to anyone looking on, it appears as though Mia's waiting for her shot at the thing with…the salt shaker. Yes, she's going to throw the salt shaker at a slavering beast who's killed one person already and almost…oh, shit. The tart. Mia's attention goes over to where the tart is baking on the evening asphalt.

Haven veers right, away from the beast. She turns to raises the shotgun and take two more shots at it as she backs off of the road and into the lot. Suddenly, the headlong rush after the beasts seems like it may have been unwise. Dismemberment upsets medics, you see. BOOM. BOOM. And then, regardless of the outcome of those two final shots, she turns to run for the diner. Being a werewolf is mostly just inconvenient when you're cursed, and can't shift whenever you want.

Things not to do when you're surrounded in a strong protective shield — fire buckshot. Sadly, Haven isn't familiar with the rules and regulations of magical protection. There's a shriek from the black haired medic as she is pelted with much lower velocity shot on the ricochet. It stings like a bitch, but doesn't cause any real damage. "Motherfffff." And then she's crunching off through the parking lot, like a drunken duck hunter in a nest of angry bees.

"S'alright. I prefer my own." Old Lady Whitton fires back at Benny. She hands over the shotgun, adjusts the rat's nest of hair piled atop her head and pulls a ridiculously large revolver out of her purse. "Now where did my ammo go…" Begin PurseRummage now.

The creature overcomes it's minor setback, claws back up to it's feet and hurls itself onto the gravel after Haven. After all this effort, it wants a SantosBurger snack and a pesky thing like shielding isn't going to stop it. It spies the pedestrians lingering near the diner then and speeds up. More food.

Lorleen hasn't moved much from where she is on the road. In fact, she is kinda unconscious from all the pain. It happens when one suffers two broken legs with a distinct lack of painkillers. Ow.

"Mia. Heads up." Once Benny has the shotgun from the old lady, she's taking no time in fiddling with it. It's already loaded, but Mia's only going to have two shots, unless anyone thought to grab the extra ammo. It gets thrust at Mia, who hopefully stops playing with condiments long enough to take it. Once she has it, Benny's onto plan B: Haven's truck.

Mia takes the gun, dropping the shaker at her feet. The shotgun gets shouldered and aimed at the thing loping after Haven. Well, looks like Mia's going to be providing cover tonight. Carefully, waiting just a second, she pulls off both shots. And no, she doesn't stop to see if they hit. She starts hauling ass back toward the diner. Sadly, she has a good bit of ass to haul.

The beast takes the two blows from Mia's shotgun directly. The first has about as much an effect as Haven's hit did a minute previously, but the second? The second stops it like the damned thing went up against a brick wall, causing it to yelp and scramble around on the gravel to try and get back up on it's paws. From this close and near the lights, it looks like a giant coyote coated with scales that don't quite cover all of it's pink irritated flesh.

It raises it's head and readies itself to leap into the crowd of people when Old Lady Whitton finally gets her revolver loaded and takes a shot. It does two things: one is send her careening backwards into some scrub brush. The other is drop the creature to the ground. It lays there, twitching, but otherwise not continuing it's human-eating endeavours.

Haven yanks her cell phone out of her back pocket as she goes, dialing direct to the firehouse to call in for an ambulance. "Put down the porno and answer the phone, Jackson!" Crunch-crunch-crunch go her boots over the lot. Her shotgun has 4 rounds left, thanks to the underbarrel tube, but it's not like she's shooting them after what happened before. Plus, phone in one hand, shotgun in the other, a girl can only do so much at once. "Dispatch an ambulance to the Crossroads Diner. We've got an animal attack on the highway, watch for a blonde in the road. Do me a solid and call up the sheriff, because I think this fucker is rabid!" The BANG from the old lady's revolver punctuates the statement. "… And you might want to send animal control. And bring Old Lady Whitton some valium."

Benny hits the truck at a full tilt run, oofing against the fender with the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. As she fumbles with the hood, she glances back over her shoulder in terror at the beast that is pursuing Haven. And then a double take. Make that -was- pursuing Haven. Benny gives a little whimpered sigh of relief as she collapses against the pickup with a hiccup of a cry.

Mia hits the front of the diner, one hand on the door, then looks over her shoulder. Wait, what? It's stopped? Her hand drops as she takes in the scene, then starts for the poor, scrubbed old woman. "It's like a damned scene out of 'Stop, Or My Mom Will Shoot,' she mutters. "Benny? Can you get me some ice when you get a second, please? And some clean towels?"

The old dear has concussed herself. Whoops. That's probably a good thing as the beast on the ground shakes itself twice and starts to pull back to it's feet again. Remember kids, when in doubt about a human-eating creature, always err on the side of caution and doubletap. Slowly it starts to walk after Haven, stalking her. On the way, it huffs and shudders, glistening black blood leaking out of the holes the firearms made.

"No, I'm not drunk. Just do it. Porn night will have to wait," Haven nearly yells into the phone, then shoves it back into her pocket, and spins around with the gun. Heeeeey. When did the gruesome wolf-thing get that close? "… Not the best night ever." She kicks up some gravel to see if it bounces back. That seems less painful than what happened last time. Here goes nothing! BOOM BOOM.

"It's moving…it's moving…" Benny whines as she claws backwards at the truck and is once more in her pursuit for the latch for the truck's hood. Where is it?! YES! Her fingers snag the little latch and the hood pops free. With a grunt she pushes it up and scans frantically for the cars battery. Well. Here's to hoping. The waitress touches one hand to the post and extends the other towards the beastie. A deep breath and….ttttzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

Mia, at the moment, is busy trying to reassure the injured woman and trying to find that damned gun. Yes, she's down on her knees, scrabbling, murmuring quietly, "Just take deep breaths. Help is on the way. Try not to move, darlin'. We'll get you to doc as soon as possible."

Annnnnnd now it's not moving anymore. The electrical burst emerges from Benny's hand and hits the beastie with a broadside, sending it ass over teakettle across the gravel of the lot. When it finally comes to a stop, it is completely still. It's also smoking and smells of burnt dog fur. Ewwwwwwwwww.

Haven just stands there for a long moment, her eyes flicking from the zapped doggie to Benny, who's stood nearby touching her truck. She has no idea what just happened, but it doesn't stop Haven from grabbing her medkit out of the still-open cab (ding… ding… ding… goes the — no wait. It stopped. Dead battery.) She carries the gun and the kit at a dead out run to get back over to Lorleen. She's much better at being a medic than a vigilante with a gun.

Benny just sort of slumps against the truck, looking tired if not all together worse for the wear. More importantly though, she looks terrified. Not of the smoking, dead creature of the damned anymore, but at the implications of what she's just done. "I'm sorry…oh god…I'm sorry…" She starts backing away from the scene, as it's soon to be crawling with everyone Haven's just radioed in for.

Mia points the gun at the doggish thing, head shaking a little. "Come on, Benny," she coaxes quietly. "Keep it together honey. I need you to take the gun and hold it on that…that thing. I need to see to our hero here." The older woman, right. There's a hint of shakiness in the doctor's voice, though.

Haven, meanwhile, goes to tend to the lady on the road, who has the two broken legs. She glances over her shoulder every now and then, to the doggie that's still smoking, to Benny, to Mia, to Benny, to the doggie. "Shit." Haven's eloquence knows no bounds. Eventually, the cavalry will show up, and someone's going to have to explain something. Haven, however, puts that out of her mind and does her job. Mia can make up the story. By the time they show up, the other Santo will probably be too drunk.

Benny looks, for all intents and purposes, like she's much rather just flee then stick around any longer. But the thought of that thing twitching much less getting back on her feet is enough to spur her over by Mia to take the gun. With the pistola in hand, she slinks back against the outer wall of the diner and sliiiiiiiiiiiiiides down into a seated position. The gun, however, remains trained on the beastie until the authorities show up. Any questions they ask, they'll just get a mumbled jumble of 'I dunnos'.

And Mia, well, she had experience with emergency medicine, so she lets Haven do her job while she does her own. There's something slightly authoritative about her - or maybe it's a fake it until you make it type of thing. When the questions come, all she knows is that there was a big dog that attacked and threw the man, then went after the woman. Shots were fired, old woman was heroic, and the thing dropped dead. Who knows what happened? Blame it on the rain or the desert heat.

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