2009-04-17: Bloody Mayhem


Aaron_icon.jpg Bloodbath_icon.jpg July_icon.jpg Nightshade_icon.jpg

Summary: Bloodbath causes a disturbance in Central Park.

Date: April 17, 2009

Bloody Mayhem

Rating: PG

NYC - Central Park

Central Park is a large public park in upper Manhattan, largest areas of green with people reading, having a picnic, or playing Frisbee. Walking paths can be found all around the park. In-between the large area's of grass, the park is shadier with many trees. A large road circles the park where joggers, bicyclists, and inline skaters are commonly found.

Another evening doing Central Park patrolling. It's not exactly Officer Simmons favorite thing. The park breeds some of the nastiness in the city. Of course, it's usually made worse by the fact that the green haired policeman is rather obviously a mutant. He doesn't hide it in the slightest, nor does his precinct. They use it to their advantage. He's in his uniform, walking along lightly, just giving nods and smiles to people as he passes. As he reaches a bench, he takes a seat for the moment, just needing a minute or two of peace.

July yawns softly as she strolls through the park, stretching one arm while covering her yawning lips with her other hand, before relaxing and crossing her arms behind her head as the girl pauses her walk to take a look around the park.

Tanner looks up at the setting sun and then down at his watch. He grumbles a little and stops not far away, the small man depositing his backpack on the park bench nearest him and digging through it to find a rather large package of beef jerky, that with a hunger that paradoxes his size, he starts to wolf down, taking a few moments to eat and enjoy the park before the public space goes dark and 'dangerous'

In a small opening between a circle of trees, one of New York City's strangest residents seems to be hard at work at something. Nightshade seems to have found a large and flat rock in the ground in this small opening in the green and with a few small bottles of paint, seems to be applying his own touch to the park as he paints the rock. Occasionally he mumbles to himself in one or two different voices an unintentionall gets some splatters of paint on the nearby grass. There's a pause as he hears a sound behind him and peers through the trees at the bench that officer just sat on. Deeming it nothing to worry about, he goes back to painting that rock.

The officer is just relaxing right now, really. A bottle of water is pulled from a holster at his hip as he takes a sip, stretching back. As a couple walks past, he offers a polite, "Evening."

July spots a hotdog stand and smiles. She could go for one right now. Walking toward it, she passes a guard, and she gives the officer a nod and a wave, "Evening." she says, smiling, before bringing a hand to her pocket to get the money for a hotdog.

The irishman continues to chow on his jerky, idly noting the form of Izzy. He raises a brow and watches for a moment or two then slowly packs up his pack and moves quietly along his way.

"Done!" Nightshade's human voice declares, the strage being standing back. Those peeking over will notice the formerly gray rock is now covered in a swirl of colors, mostly reds, oranges, and yellows. "Nightshade likes it," the being's second voice speaks up. There's a sudden pause as he sniffs the air. Turning, the strange little creature crawls closer to the bench Aaron sits on and peers in July and the hotdog cart's direction. Nightshade doesn't seem to notice Aaron there or isn't bothered by him.

Hearing the voice behind him, Aaron looks over his shoulder. Seeing the painted rock, he tries to decide if that counts as graffiti and decides against it. The kid doesn't look like he was actually doing any harm. His relaxation may be a little bit too much, though, as he's not really paying attention to the fact that the grass beneath his feet is growing a little TOO quickly.

Nightshade climbs up onto the back of the bench. As he does, it's clearer that he's staring at the hot dog cart more than July. And judging by the audble growl from his stomach, the little guy's hungry.

For one looking closely, like Nightshade, there are obviously a few small vines moving around inside Aaron's hair. "You know, technically… you're not supposed to paint things. You could get in trouble from it." He says, casually. He's obviously not planning to do anything about that in particular.

July blinks softly as she hears the officer speaking, about painting stuff, and she figures a poor chap got in trouble, and she turns her head to look at him as her hotdog is being done, and she blinks again, when she notices Nightshade. 'Oh-ho…' the brunette thinks 'I hope that one doesn't mistake me for a drug dealer or something…' she swallows a bit, nervous.

Nightshade turns his head slowly to look Aaron over. "What?" the human voice asks. "Nightshade thinks Plant-Man is silly. Nightshade is a good boy!" the alien voice declares happily. "I'm hungry," the third voice, a fusion of the previous two, mutters.

Quietly, and only seen by those with perceptions that are highly trained comes a slow and steady stream of something red coming from the grass. It pools quietly in the base of path and curb, creating a small puddle of sticky red liquid.

"Plant-Man? No, that's a super-villain." Aaron shakes his head. AFter all, he WAS briefed on one supervillain with similar powers to his own. Fortunately, Aaron IS highly trained to notice things. He's trying to become a detective. The puddle gets an eye as Aaron stands, moving towards it. His hand moves to the butt of his gun, not taking it out, but being prepared.

July gets her hotdog and pays for it, before turning her attention back to the police officer and the… strange individual he's talking to. Curiosity taking the better of her, July decides to approach the officer. "Hey. Is everything alright?" she asks, blinking a bit.

Nightshade just seems confused by this, tilting his head and going into telepathic conference with himself. "Nightshade does not know what Plant-Man is talking about," the alien voice states simply. He stays on his perch on the bench, one part of him peering curiously at the puddle and the other staring intently at July's hotdog.

The pool gets larger as mini trickle of the red liquid seep out of the great lawn, between blades of grass and under rocks. It slowly starts to grow in size….really…looks like someone dropped a blood-bank from a chopper. Kind of gross. Smells metallic…coppery….like blood. It seems pretty innocent, aside from looking and smelling like blood. It just grows into a sizeable pool that most can see.

"Might want to move back, folks. I don't know what this is." Aaron says with a quick nod as he pulls his radio up to his lips and mutters in what's going on. The gun is unlatched as he palces his hand on the butt. The tendrils in his hair begin to writhe a little more.

July has to step back, but… curiosity is just too much. July hesitates, her attention torn between the weird creature named Nightshade, and the puddle of what looks and smells like blood increasing, "What… what happened?"

"Blood," Nightshade's human voice comments with some sniffing. Staying on the bench, he starts to edge closer to the end of it and cranes his neck to get a better look at the blood puddle and July's hot dog. "Nightshade does not like that smell," the alien voice adds in quietly.

It is about that time that a large hand shoots up out of the blood without a sound. Suddenly and with the strength of about 6 times the strength of steel, it shoots up and attempts to latch onto the police offers face, attempting to grip, and if successful attempts to pull him down…hard. That is -not- nice blood.

As the hand grips his face, instinct kicks in, and Aaron jerks backwards. His body suddenly stiffens, covering itself in coarse, strong bark, like that on an old tree. "I think not. Folks, move away!" He says, holding his hand on the butt of the gun but NOT pulling it. Instead, he latches it back and reaches for a pouch on his belt.

July gasps as the blood puddle seems to grow a hand and it successfully attacks the officer… who now seems to be making a nice impression of a treant. "W-what!?" she gasps in shock and surprise at the events take on a darker twist. Is the park no longer safe?

A hiss comes from Nightshade and the oddity takes on a far more defensive posture than before. "Nightshade does not like bad blood," the alien voice growls out. "Plant-Man is Tree-Man now," the human voice comments.

The hand is weak….abyssmally so. It holds no more strength that a 16 year old videogame addict. That however doesn't stop the hand from being reaborbed into the blood and a pair of snakes come crawling out of it, moving quickly one trying to curl around the officers ankles, the others attempting to find purchase on his wrists.

"This is rather disgusting." Aaron says, voice coming out slowly, and rather gravelly, as if fighting through the bark to come from his throat. "Bloody hands coming up out of nowhere. Fine." He says, tugging a few things out of his pockets as he starts looking at the liquid to see how far it goes, only to see the snakes of liquid moving around. THe tendrils he picked out of his pockets grow and spread, turning into long viney growths in a matter of seconds, wrapping around him as the blood does, trying to separate it from his body.

July gasps again, shocked as the hand retreats, and two snakes of blood form from the blood. "W-what the heck is that…?" She asks in fear and nervousness as she takes one slow step back… then another.

Now Nightshade's growling, which is never good. Lifting a hand, Nightshade fires off a webline to try and cover the puddle in a patch of the stick goo. "Stupid smelly puddle," the human voice declares mid-action.

The goo hits and covers the pool of blood. Which lurches and works to free itself and then goes still….whatever power it had has been sapped.

Speaking into the radio again, Aaron calls for a crew to come in and clean up whatever this is. He takes a vine, attached to his body and has it prod at the liquid, several times. "I don't know what this is, but folks, you should clear out. I've got the authorities coming to take care of what's left." He says, all authoritatively. He adjusts the vine coming from his hair, tucking it back behind his ear. "Be good, or I'll have to trim you again." He says to no one.

July watches the puddle of blood trying to break free, and she wonders how that webbing can stop it, but apparently it does, as the puddle goes inert, "Ok…" the girl says, backing away, but still keeping her eyes on the puddle, and on Nightshade as well. 'Who's /that/?' is the question in July's mind.

"YAHOOOO!" Nightshade exclaims in both voices. "Nightshade is strong!" the alien voice calls out. "Yeah! We beat that stupid, smelly puddle!" the human voice adds. He pulls a backflip off the bench and glances towards July. There's a moment where he considers stealing her food but instead leaps up into the air. "Bye, Tree-Man! Bye, Scaredy-Girl!" the fused voice cheerfully bids farewell as Nightshade swings off into the city.

The blood quivers but little else happens. Izzy saved the day, not much the blood can do other than push in vein against the webbing. There is no pore for it to squeeze through and it is stronger than the power behind the goo. So, it stays there. Whatever animation it had in it, it has gone. Somewhere, not far away looking through a pair of binoculars, Bloodbath takes some notes…

"Nightshade…" The officer says with a sigh. "I think there's more to it than we realize. You should go somewhere warm." He says, shaking his head as he looks to July. "Sorry, kid. I don't know any more than you do, really." The bark begins to flake away, leaving his normal skin and voice behind it. "Head home and try not to think about it. I'm going to be investigating this one for a little while."

July nods to the police officer's advice as she looks toward where Nightshade took off to, and then she looks at the puddle. "Weird…" she mutters, before sighing softly. Assured it's ok now, she turns around, and heads out of the park, making a mental note to relate what happened to the school board. They might want to know about this.

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