2023-04-11 HH: House of Self-Undoing
HH: House of Self-Undoing
Storyteller: Elyse
Location: High Hopes Needle Exchange / Driving to Chinatown
Date and Time: April 11, 2023 8:11 pm
Summary: Simon and Felicity attempt to extract Derrick Houghton from the clinic, and in doing so bring down a response from the shell corporation that owns High Hopes Needle Exchange. After a fraught car chase, they make it to a safehouse.
Mood Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV3_G3NDCPg Friday Night Firefight by ALIGNS & Rubicones
Close to quitting time at the High Hopes Needle Exchange. People have started to filter away from the building. It's clear that there's been no real help administered to some of these people; in fact, some of them seem sicker than they were the last time Felicity was here. There are people who seem actually sick as well, with cough, congestion, and all the hallmarks of upper respiratory disease. If one looks into the umbra, this whole part of the Bawn has a strange red haze overlaid where the clinic is.
Not that Derrick can look into the Umbra. He's standing outside smoking a cigarette, leaning back against the wall nearest the door. Looking up at the sky, he reaches a hand out to catch a few drops of rain and sighs, then looks at some of the folks leaving the clinic. He offers a slightly enthusiastic remark to one or two of them, but it seems like his heart isn't in it anymore. Given Derrick's own history, this could be dangerous even for him. Being surrounded by reminders of his past and not being able to help them.
Felicity texted Derrick ahead of showing up. "Hey. Got some news you'll wanna hear. Bringing a friend." She does not ask permission. She is on a mission, and Simon is with her on that mission, and the two have EVIDENCE and a SAFEHOUSE to try to talk sense into this Depresso over here.
Felicity shows up first, while Derrick is out front smoking. She'll wave from her bulky black hoodie, paired incongruently with denim shorts (that were once pants) and mismatched shoes. She will approach some, but wait for him to show recognition before formally initiating contact.
When Simon approaches, it is in a different set of clothes than what he usually wears. He has gone for good boy greys, blues and whites. White Patagonia coat, blue shirt, white pants. It's hell to clean blood off of white pants, but at the very least he looks... well, not like some crazy guy in black who totes guns, right?
That doesn't matter. He moves when Felicity does. He has the money and the disposition to help her pursue her goal of keeping this human safe, even if he doesn't quite understand why. Questioners do the Questioning for good reasons, and it is perhaps good that this Full Moon is wise enough to be humble about it.
But he knows that there may be some Magadonian interests going on here. So he makes sure to check out the area... in case the Veronicas are coming around the corner, wanting their pound of flesh.
Derrick stubs out his cigarette and glances up to the woman who approaches. He leans in to look at her briefly, then says, "Oh, Felicity. You said you had news for me that I want to hear?"
From within the clinic, a blonde woman sits at the desk. She calls out, "Derrick, we have to clo-"
Derrick whirls around and half-shouts, "Not *now* Veronica!"
He turns to look back to Felicity and brushes a hand over his forehead, "Sorry. Normally I don't get angry like that." His eyes are bloodshot, there are bags under his eyes. He seems on the cusp of getting sick, but in that liminal space between health and illness. "Been a lot going on. Guess I'm stressed out."
Simon is far enough back that it appears Veronica doesn't see him through the doorway, or she just hasn't noticed. She goes back to her work, but picks up the clinic phone to make a call, visible through the open door.
"Fuck's sake." Felicity mutters that under her breath when she hears the exchange between Veronica (fuuuuun) and Derrick. "So I ran into a guy the other day. Concerned whistleblower. He looked into this place. Long story short..." She takes note of Veronica making that phone call, and then puts on her best Arnold Schwarzzeneger impression. "Come with me if you want to live." She looks at Derrick dead on, letting him know full well that /she is not joking here/. And also there's no time to explain why.
Derrick looks like shit. Simon stares at the man in some consternation, before looking back when he shouts for Veronica. It is perhaps good that he is so good at masking his own reactions to things, because his attention drifts to the clinic, but he makes sure to step even further beyond the woman's possible eyeshot if he can.
"We don't have a lot of time," he warns Felicity. "If I had to guess, maybe ten minutes. Likelier to be a lot less."
"Let's go, I'll try to make sure they aren't hot on our heels."
Derrick allows his gaze to drift back to the blonde Veronica behind them and notes her on the phone. He looks back to Felicity; a quick glance in Simon's direction and blanches a little at the sight of him. He's Bad News. Despite that, he trusts Felicity. "O-okay. If Veronica's on the phone," he looks over his shoulder again, making eye contact with the secretary. He then moves away from the door and nods to Felicity.
Veronica puts the phone down and starts to stand up, visible through the doorway.
Two new employees, what appear to be orderlies put down their equipment and make their way to the front of the clinic.
"We have to go /now/." Felicity looks over to Simon. "Hey bruiser. You got these two? I'm getting our friend to safety." With that, she's beckoning for Derrick to follow promptly, with a mouthing of 'I can explain on the way'. Yeah, they're heading to the safehouse.
Of course Simon is bad news. Thousands of years of evolutionary trauma have told Derrick so. The Ahroun does not blame the human for blanching in sight of him. "I'll cover our exit." He says to Felicity, nodding to her. There is a kind of professional efficiency to the way he moves. As soon as she and Derrick have started to move away, he unholsters the gun concealed beneath his jacket; his trusty Five-Seven, what else? If the orderlies are moving forward, he'll be pointing at a spot he thinks will cause the bullet to bounce into as many sodium lights as possible. You can't follow what you can't see. And if they can see, anyways, odds are very good Felicity and him will have to exercise their Gaia-given duty. A single shot is given, the bullet ricochets -- and the sound of broken lamplights echoes once...maybe more than once.
Derrick follows Felicity to the car, eager to be away from Simon. The gun goes off when they're already halfway down the alley towards where they stashed the car. He jumps and looks back over his shoulder.
Back at the clinic, Veronica notes Simon as he steps in front of the door to take a shot, "That's him!" She shouts, and the orderlies start to take action.
Gunshots, chaos. People scream and flee from the area. It's the late afternoon. Police presence in Skid Row is minimal, but this will still likely get some kind of response from others, especially the kinfolk neighborhood watch that keep track of this part of the Bawn.
The lights are old sodium lamps. When hit with the bullet, they explode, and the ricochet knocks out two others. Three bursts of light like Simon created a miniature model of Alpha Centauri.
The twin orderlies -- they did look quite a bit alike, isn't that strange? -- are blinded. Veronica screeches loud, the sound that she once made before her eyes took on the nihilistic entropy of the Wyrm. She's coming for Simon. Vengeance.
Well, shit. Felicity can't drive worth a damn, so she just beckons Simon over furiously while the Big Bad Threat is distracted. "Okay that screech ain't normal." She's talking to Derrick in the back seat of the car, placing him passenger side and as far away from Simon's future seat as possible. "Not gonna lie, I thought this was just a saline scam but I have concerns. C'mon bruiser let's get outta here..."
"Let's go." Simon's not wasting anymore time, but he's still armed, still making his retreat to get towards Felicity. He at least bought them some time, even if the screech is nothing good. As much as his heart tells him to go fight, his mind is telling him that three to one are not good odds even for a fully grown Ahroun. He'll slip into the car and tap twice on the door. "Go, go, go!" Meanwhile, he will start the car, then tell Felicity, "Look beyond."
Yes, it will sound culty as all shit to Derrick but he doesn't give a shit right now. The doors are locked automatically when he hits the gas. Felicity gazes out the rear driver's side window, looking beeeyooooond. Oooooo.
Gaining access to the car is easy enough. The three of them pile in. Derrick, in the back seat, leans forward and says, "What the *fuck* is going on?!"
But then the Ahroun is driving fast enough and with enough physicality to make Derrick sit back and put his seatbelt on.
They jump over one of the little bumps that cross between the intersections designed to slow down speeding cars, then speed off towards the 110 heading north.
Beyond, in the Umbra, Felicity can see one spirit tailing them. It looks like a spermatozoa floating through the Umbra, seeking the egg of their car. The little tail wiggles behind it as it pursues.
A mouth opens at the end of it, and a series of whispers can be heard within the Umbra as the Scryer spirit begins to report back to whichever master they have. The spirit is roughly fifteen feet from the car in the Umbra, gaining quickly.
Felicity snarls and curses once she snaps out of her little 'trance', finally putting on her own seatbelt. "We're being tailed." How does she know? Simon knows. But how's she explaining that to Derrick? You know what, nevermind that, she's gonna fast-talk Derrick past that and explain the other stuff. Maybe he doesn't remember to ask about being tailed.
"So. Bad juju. You know that methadone the clinic supposedly has available to help people off their addictions? Majority of it is nothing but saline. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but someone in their stupid ivory tower wants to play fuckery with Skid Row, and that means... what?" She's taking measured breaths to keep calm. "We got saline. We got patients looking sicker than when they came in. But saline doesn't do that. So what the fuck." She's acting perplexed, like the puzzle pieces available to her just don't fit.
Usually, Simon is calm and collected. But they are dealing with ugly things, things he has been chastised for, in the past, and now he's driving like a madman, ignoring traffic rules when possible to make sure they aren't reached.
"It's true," he confirms what Felicity is saying, not that, well, Derrick needs any convincing on his part. But he nods to her words, looking remarkably pissed at it. "How close?" He asks in a lower tone to Felicity, as if trying to find an adequate spot once it's close enough to the safehouse they can take off by foot. But he won't take off, if he has to take a spirit down.
Remember that verbal lashing they both got during ITMD? His part of it, about the spirit world? Well, he's paying attention now.
"This," Derrick says, looking over his shoulder through the rear window. He looks back to Felicity, then to Simon as the latter confirms the story. "This is some Matrix-ass bullshit. Next thing you're going to say is that I'm 'the One' and you'll be sucking some weird snake out of my stomach."
"Don't try to dodge bullets." Felicity makes some quick-witted snark to maaaaybe try to lighten up the dark mood, then mumbles to Simon, "Ten, fifteen feet?" Then, she looks over to Derrick and asks a rhetorical questoin. "Do you /want/ to go back to that hellhole? You heard that screech." Her tone and mannerisms are designed in such a way as to highly encourage Derrick to say 'no'.
"If this is the Matrix, I'm not being paid enough to play the role I'm playing," Simon shakes his head, glancing at the rear-view mirror briefly, but keeping them on a route that is oblique, parallel to, the safehouse. If they're being tailed, he won't lead their visitors to where they can snatch Derrick. "I'll need to take care of it soon," he warns Felicity. "Or you can be ready for an ugly fight. These-- corporations -- don't play around. That's what you're dealing with, Derrick. They're making a clinical trial out of your people. And congratulations, they gave you shitwater placebo."
Derrick makes a face, but does not make a retort. He turns to look over his shoulder again out the window, then leans over to look out the side window. He obviously doesn't see the Scryer, the guy is just a human. Nonetheless, the driver's giving him some bad vibes, and he doesn't say anything to contradict Felicity.
He sits and listens to the two, and gives a brief nod. He seems open to listening to Simon, and the wariness even softens a bit. He rubs his eyes and leans back against the seat, staring at the ceiling for a time.
In the time it takes to get across town to Chinatown, Derrick is mostly quiet. Then, there's a sound from the backseat. Someone muttering "fuck," in a quiet tone. And finally, Derrick shouts, "FUCK!" and punches the ceiling. "Those fucking assholes played me for a fool!"
Felicity goes eerily quiet again halfway through the drive to Chinatown, but otherwise it's a pretty quiet trip. At least, until Derrick starts shouting up a fuck-storm. "Yeah they're good at that. Remember Tuskegee Syphilis? Same crap. Test whatever on some bums nobody will miss." She is not doing a very good job hiding her frustration. The huff she lets out is HEAVY. "Not clear, by the way." That part's to Simon.
"They play everyone for a fool, man." Simon says, with a tone that betrays understanding, if not empathy. "That's how they get their hooks on you, on people you want to help. Give you hope you can make an impact, give them hope they can be healed. Then they take it all away; your hope, their hope. It's all for money. Money for them, suffering for you and the people close to you. Do you believe in God, Derrick?"
"Even if you don't, you probably believe in -something-. These people only believe in the way they can shove their shit-stained boots on your necks. I'm with the Grassroots Advocates for Individual Accountability. Like you, we believe in a better world. I'm going to keep you safe, get you a plane ticket somewhere, but you have to promise to eat and drink well and sleep. If you need help, I'll get you a telephone number, and either myself or Felicity here will be around to make sure you're good." Simon also nods to Felicity. Still taking evasive actions, maybe a different corner, this time around. Waze be damned.
"Do I believe in God?" Derrick grabs a handhold to keep himself level on the seat. He looks between the two of them, takes a moment to think, and then says, "Yeah! I mean, kinda. I feel like I'm more of a hippie or something. Like the universe or Mother Nature or some shit is looking out for us, not some sky dude." He glances over his shoulder again.
As he does, another car, a black Lincoln Towncar, roars out of an alley and attempts to ram them. Simon takes emergency evasive action and the Lincoln spins out, turning in the wrong direction.
"Holy fuck!" Derrick shouts.
"I was *not* ready to be in a car chase today..." Felicity's angry. And she's keeping red alert on their surroundings now. How are they dealing with a car trying to run them down? "But yeah. No legit business would be HUNTING US DOWN like this. Shit-stained boot's trying to take back its prey. Simon! Plan? I doubt we can just run this bitch in circles to get away. Can we flip the script and ram our pursuers?"
"That's V." Simon taps the steering wheel as he looks to Felicity, murmuring that just audibly enough for her, glancing over his shoulder to look at the Lincoln Towncar. He wasn't expecting that, but he was smart enough to be able to avoid it, at least. He looks serious for this. "Keep believing in that, man. Mother Nature does provide."
"She's gonna come for us again and I'll need you to drive, Felicity." Because Simon is going to be shooting an engine.
"You serious?" Felicity doesn't hesitate, but damn if she isn't absolutely incredulous at the plan. She's already out of her seatbelt and hopping into the front passenger seat, pausing just long enough to see if Simon vacates the driver's seat or not. (This determines if she claims said seat.) "You know I can't drive, right? Desperate times..."
Yeah, he'll vacate the seat, doing a dive to the passenger's seat when she gets to the driver's, and sneaking his body halfway out the passenger's seat window. "Just step on the right foot and drive towards the road, if she comes, take a left, I'll shoot her engines or her tires, whichever the fuck I see first." Simon sometimes lives a very interesting life, with very interesting times. He realizes this.
And that must be why he's smiling, suddenly. Confidence in the plan? He's insane? Who knows how his mind works.
Simon is able to hit one of the front tires. It's a good hit and blows, sending the car skidding around and screeching along the street. They cross under the 101 and the driver of the car manages to get in one good hit, slamming the side of the vehicle into the onramp. Felicity loses control and the car flips, sending them careening off the embankment. The top of the car hits the hill, bounces, then the side, and another bounce, then landing on their wheels.
Surprisingly, the car is not totaled.
"Told you I couldn't drive!" Felicity snaps at Simon, failing to mention that she can't shoot either. "Take the wheel back. I'm dealing with -- no, no, this is wrong, whatever, just take the wheel." She hops back in the back seat, sulking and nursing her bruises.
"Make sure he's okay." Simon is, somehow, unharmed by the whole ordeal. It is the power of his Rage, or perhaps it is the something else. He'll take the wheel, and place the gun on his right hand side, if he needs to shoot through the fucking windshield. And he will, trust.
He slams his foot on the gas pedal to drive them away. Felicity wrenches herself from seething at all the things Going Wrong and turns her attention to Derrick. "How're you holding up?"
The car fishtails out and speeds off down North Alameda towards Chinatown. Meanwhile, the other car remains stuck in place back near the exchange for 101. One of the twins climbs out of the Lincoln window and levels a pistol towards Simon's car. That's odd, this twin is wearing different clothes.
He doesn't shoot; it's too chancy of a shot. Instead, before Simon pulls away from seeing them, he takes out a cellphone and starts to make a phone call.
Nothing immediately jumps out at them.
Derrick is deeply terrified, especially since the driver just SHOT a GUN at a CAR. He stares at Simon like a terrified animal, looking between the two of them. "Wh-"
"What the fuck did I get pulled into?" He whispers.
"You don't want to know." Simon replies, before looking to Felicity. "We can get him to the safe place or we can get him to an airport. Your pick. And for fuck's sake, grab his cellphone and toss it out of the fucking window."
He was just now reminded of something Karl said to him, over and over. Smartphones make for dumb trackers. Pulling out a cellphone, he seems quiet for a moment before telling someone on the other end, "I'm stuck in traffic, Ren. Will be there ASAP. There's a Lincoln Towncar after me with a very big F-OFF sign." Felicity does not throw Derrick's cell phone out the window. "Yeah no. You gettin' him a new phone? Because this is already spiraling out of control. Fucking... safe place."
"Look, I probably can lose the phone," Derrick says, glancing at Simon with a touch of fear. "He seems like he knows what he's doing. I'll just lose the phone. No harm, no foul. We can go to this 'safe house.' I'm cooperating with you guys, for real."
Felicity looks at Derrick funny and flings the phone. Dude is WAY too okay with random bullshit popping up at this point. Convenient!
Felicity offers Derrick a smile that is weary and relieved. "Great. We'll get you a less shitty place when we can. New phone too. Unless my friend has /different/ ideas..." She's not happy with Current Plan. But Current Plan is Good Plan and she's rolling with it. "Stay close. I think I see a sneakier path."
They aren't being tailed per se. Simon does see one of the twins -- odd, he's wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt now. Wasn't he just wearing white scrubs at the clinic, then what appeared to be a tracksuit in the Lincoln? Strange dude who does a lot of quick changes, apparently. In any case, the lone twin is watching Simon and Felicity from about 50 feet away as they attempt to disappear into the maze of Chinatown.
"We're being tailed," Simon tells Felicity, letting her evade the pursuers with Derrick, but chooses not to engage the twin just yet. He'll distract the mother fucker. It's time to lure him to the battlefield of Simon's choosing. It is a wild goose chase, but one that is reminiscent of the wolf that this Glass Walker Ahroun happens to be. Wolves do not fight frontal battles if they can help it. Not alone.
In this case, he chooses to lead the man through an alleyway, then another, until they are under the shadow of an apartment building, away from the prying ears and eyes of most people. His gun in his hand, there is no time to conceal himself; it would defeat the purpose. So he goes for the next best thing: high ground. Looping into a staircase, all the better so that he can jump down, or shoot from above. It is time to live, it is time to fight. Or it could be time for the other thing, but he plans on survival tonight.
With the twin dispatched, Felicity and Derrick are able to get to their safehouse. It's not the nicest building, but that's not important. It will be difficult to extract someone out of this place, and if someone did it would alert a lot of people. No cars can fit reliably on the street it's on, so someone would have to be perp-walked to the nearest parking lot or avenue.
There are some cockroaches that scurry when the lights are clicked on. Derrick says, "This looks like a fuckin' trap house." It really does. It's pretty awful. It smells terrible.
Felicity scowls and retches at the condition of the place. "Really, Simon? /This/ was the best you could come up with? I swear." She pinches the bridge of her nose, huffs a sigh, and rolls her eyes and begins a super-sarcastic rant. "Ah yes. Get us a safehouse, I says! Some place nobody will mess with Derrick, I says. He says sure! I know a place. Middle of Chinatown, sounds good. But what do I find when we get here!?" She attempts to crush one of the cockroaches, only remembering at the last second just what kind of spirit Glass Walkers are aligned with. Her stomp misses, and the cockroach flees. "We're getting a damn cleaning crew. And I'm gonna teach you indoor gardening when the heat dies down."
The neon of the streets of Chinatown beckon Simon home, now that he's done his job. He can't go back to that car, but it's a good thing it was as disposable as the bullet he left in the back of a strange man with many twins. Deep down he knows what that's all about, but he's learned a lot about the enemy's workings, tonight. He stops by a beggar, buys him some street food, asks where the nearest cab is so he can link back up with Felicity.
This has never been something a small group of people can tackle. It's grown, like a metastatic tumor, like a gangrenous growth, threatening the body with death if the limb isn't cut off.
No, now he knows. This is a matter for the entire Sept.
Eventually, the Glass Walker will make arrangements to get Derrick the stuff he needs. A burner phone, food, drinks. Shit that isn't produced by the people who want to do him harm. And he'll also get a booklet on Mother Earth and a Bible and a Crucifix, whether he likes it or not.
Dude was tired, was sickly. His spirit is weak. His spirit needs food. Simon knows that. He was once an addict, too.
