damned_institute | Night 61: Mission #6 [Niikura Shou and Hamato Michelangelo]

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Night 61: Mission #6 [Niikura Shou and Hamato Michelangelo]

One second he was walking through the door, the next he was standing out in the middle of a field in complete darkness. "Whoa..." Niikura took a step forward, and jumped a little more than he should have when the dirt crunched underneath his boots. It was real--well, duh, of course it was real. Teleportation wasn't one of the things he was accustomed to, though; it had just felt so surreal, watching the landscape change with the blink of an eye. To be honest, it made him feel sort of amateurish, even though he already had every necessary skill to fulfill this mission as quickly and efficiently as possible. Just one little thing, though. Niikura liked having all the possible factors under his control or at least known to him, and that included initial transportation.

But no time to think about that. They had some people to catch. He looked around for the dim shape of his friend. "Mike-san, ya here?" His voice was a quiet hiss. Even though they were a few meters away from the encampment they were supposed to raid, he didn't want to take any risks while the mission was still in its nascent stages. "We, uh..." Niikura looked down at the two guns clenched in his hands. "...oh, that's nice of 'em." One was clearly the tranquilizer gun that the file said would be provided. Two rounds only apiece. One reserve in case they missed. Not...not too bad. It added a little challenge, although he considered himself to be a decent shot on bad days.

The other...he lifted it up so he could examine it a little more closely, and then nearly laughed when he saw the shape. An M29, huh? Now all he had to do was paint "Nyuunanbu" on the barrel and it'd be like a flash from the past, except hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it at all.

He looked back up again. "What'd you get?"

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Mike jolted when he suddenly appeared in the middle of a field, having not expected something so seamless. There hadn't been a portal or even any sort of sound effect. Nope, they were just suddenly there.

... Landel had to work on his special affects. Really, the whole suddenly there thing was just not that awe inspiring. If he really wanted to make his institute seem amazing, then he had to really step up his game. (Not to mention, that pink force shield....)

"I'm here."

Back onto the topic at hand--Mike caught Niikura's figure nearby and turned his head to look at him. He didn't bother to look down at his weapon because he knew what it was--the familiar weight of his nunchaku's holster was there in his palm. He felt a weight on his foot. Mike frowned for a moment, then crouched, and put his nunchaku down. He picked up what he recognized as a tranquilizer gun, shoving it into his briefs. Yeah, it wasn't pretty, but it'd work.

"Tranq gun and my nunchaku," Mike whispered, picking up his nunchaku and standing. "Let's wait until we can see right before movin'."

Nunchaku? Wow, talk about legitimate. If they ended up in a real fight (with civilians...but still), at least one of them would have an ace up his sleeve. Niikura wasn't so sure if he'd really be able to bring himself to use .44 Magnum on people who weren't exactly evil. Plus, it wasn't really the most covert of weapons.

He slipped the revolver into its holster at his side. "Awesome." Slowly his eyes adjusted until he could see the silhouettes of what looked like buildings off in the distance. "So, might as well take this time to plan, then, huh? If we want this done as quickly and quietly as possible, my instincts are tellin' me we gotta have some distance, but the stuff they gave us definitely doesn't have the range. How good are ya at the whole breakin'-and-enterin' deal?"

Legitimate, yes, but his were spiked at the end. If he wasn't careful, he could easily kill a person with them by hitting them in the wrong place. Luckily for whomever he was fighting, Mike was very good at what he did.

"Trained for it since I was a kid," Mike answered. "If we stay on the outskirts, we should--"

Mike suddenly froze, eyes going wide. He dropped his nunchaku, grabbing his half arm and taking a few shaky steps away before falling onto his knees. Pain. His arm was erupting in pain, quickly building up momentum and--

He pulled off his hat and bit down on it, trying to keep himself from screaming. The same thing had happened that night he had been tortured. This same sort of pain. Were the side effects finally hitting him? What the shell was--?

All thought seized as the pain exploded up his arm and along the scars on his back. Mike couldn't focus, he couldn't-- His head was on the grass now, and he didn't--

It was only the hat that kept his screams partially muffled.

((OOC: What are the chances I roll for a transformation during THIS?))

Edited 2012-02-14 01:56 (UTC)

"Really?" Niikura stared some more at the clump of buildings rising out of the otherwise flat landscape, already cycling through all the things that they'd have to consider. He agreed that the homes on the outskirts were probably their best bet, since they wouldn't have to move in as far. It was difficult to judge the height from this distance. "The outskirts what again?"

He turned around with a frown and then felt himself go cold when he saw Mike on his knees. I'm going in solo--no, he had to ditch that, focus on the task at hand, resist the urge to just do things on his own because that was without a doubt a surefire way of getting himself killed; he just attracted it...

"What the--" Niikura rushed over, kneeling down to get a better look. "Shit...who did..." He looked around, squinting, trying to catch sight of someone beating a hasty retreat in the darkness, ears straining over the sound of Mike's moaning to hear footsteps. But there was nothing. His head jerked back down. "Look, just..." Okay, maybe it really was time to go solo. "Look, just stay here; I'll take care of this," he hissed.

[idk man]

The pain was radiating across his scars, the pain centered on his arm. It felt like... before. The room. With the doctor. The shots--

He bit down on his hat as another wave of pain coursed through him; it was the only thing stopping from him giving away their location. They were still stationary. They could still be found.

The pain began to pulse in time with his heartbeat as his heartbeat began to... change and become more familiar. It wasn't just his heartbeat, but his skin began to change to a sickly green, the color slowly spreading from underneath the back of his shirt. His half-arm simply wasn't visible underneath the fabric, and thus, its changes could not be observed.

He rolled onto his stomach, his knees tucked under him. His back was stretching his shirt as it expanded. It felt like his entire body was being rearranged from the inside, things moving and shifting on the inside.

Shell. Shell. It hurt. But it also meant he knew what this was.

During a momentary lull in the pain, the Mike managed to gasp out two words, the hat dropping from his mouth. "Change. Before."

Edited 2012-02-16 01:02 (UTC)

Why was it that these kinds of things always had to happen? First that stupid deal with the memory transfer and barfing and...he had promised himself to not think about that night ever again, but he really couldn't stop himself, especially when everything seemed to be going to hell. Anyway, where was he--oh, right, and then that night where he'd found out that Mike was really Mike the Turtle, and then...

It was a sign that he really needed to just handle things on his own. But Niikura did consider himself a better friend than that, and he figured that there would be consequences for ditching his partner in the middle of a mission to just...do whatever he was doing. Certainly not having a good time.

"What?" He craned down a little further and cupped a hand around his ear, only to jump back in surprise as he nearly got whacked in the forehead with the edge of Mike's...Mike's...

...shell.

"Oh, great." Niikura groaned. "Great. Seriously. Wonderful." What was he supposed to do with this?

That was where Mike's strength ended. If he wasn't already laying on the ground, he would be. He leaned his head down just a bit further to grip the hat in his teeth as another wave of pain left him screaming, the fabric muffling it once more. They were lucky that the door had dropped them far enough away that guards weren't already upon them, or whatever the encampment had in the way of guards.

But Mike really had other things on his mind, like the cracking sounds his bones made and the way his fingers and toes started to bleed back together. It was almost a good thing that the pain was there to distract him from the sight, even if he'd probably win some kind of award for special effects. No, he already had enough nightmare material to last him a lifetime.

His shell was growing down his back now, stretching his pants. The ridges and his carapace became more defined. The only thing that changed about his scars were the color to a deep green.

And then, all at once, the change was over, and the pain began to die away. It left him gasping for breath, and he rolled onto his back, his clothes torn and ripped.

If he wasn't temporarily incapacitated by pain, Mike might've been slightly disappointed that he hadn't completely ripped his shirt up like a super hero.

There had to be some kind of plus to this. He was usually good at adapting to situations, prided himself on it, actually, because unification allowed him the ability to sit comfortably anywhere he pleased. Unfortunately, no Shou had ever accompanied a man who was actually a giant turtle, but honestly, his creativity couldn't be that limited. What would all those manga be for, then?

But then, it wasn't as if anyone else had ever seen a giant, walking turtle before either. Maybe that was the advantage. Yes, it certainly was much more imposing--ah, now you're talking, Niikura.

After a long pause, Niikura inched forward. "You okay?" he whispered. Another pause and then: "Y'know, I think this might actually be a good thing for us--in the long run, I mean. Can't waste any time so I'll just sum it up in two words for ya." He leaned a little closer and bent down fully to hiss, "Scare tactic."

Mike didn't reply immediately, instead closing his eyes and breathing. Give him a minute, Niikura. Excruciating pain was a bit exhausting. Just a bit.

Mike opened up his eyes again, looking up at Niikura when he was finally starting to catch his breath. He didn't want to move for a while, but he knew he'd have to. They had a mission to finish.

Niikura's idea was a good one. With his scars, he was far more intimidating than he used to be. Oh, and the whole giant turtle thing really helped, too.

Mike managed a smirk. "Bait or just scarin' 'em into submission?"

Niikura smiled and offered his teammate a hand. "Either or, 'm leavin' it to your professional judgment." He reached into the pocket of his uniform and held up one of the collars. "I'll trade these for your gun. You flush 'em out, I'll hit 'em with the darts as soon as I can, and then ya slap the collars on whoever I hit. Team effort, we'll be done in no time."

Yeah, sometimes, he really astounded himself with his genius.

Mike took it and pulled himself onto his feet. He was a little unsteady, but then he immediately crouched to pick up his gun and offered it to Niikura. When the man took it, he didn't rise, instead working on getting his clothes off. Damn buttons.

"So I lure them out, you tag 'em, and I bag 'em. Got it."

"In a nutshell."

The encampment turned out to be more shoddy than he'd expected: a few run-down houses here and there, remnants of what had probably once been a thriving city, and then canvas tents interspersed in the gaps. As they drew closer, the flickering lights that he'd seen before resolved into the dying embers of some scattered cooking fires. All of it only made Niikura mentally grind his teeth in frustration more. The rooftops were low, and the shadows sparse, meaning that he'd have to come in a little closer to take a good shot. And they definitely couldn't get anywhere near the tents because he could make out shadows moving within them. If there was a ruckus, anyone peeking out would be able to tell what was going on.

Well, he'd already figured that the houses would be their best bet. This only confirmed it.

"Pick a house," Niikura whispered as they shuffled along the perimeter. "I'll try to get on the roof nearby and hit 'em from above."

"How good of a shot are you?" Mike whispered, glancing back at Niikura. "I was thinkin' of getting a house with multiple targets."

He had tied his pants around his waist to make a makeshift belt, and now he was otherwise one very naked turtle. What he would've done to have his mask and gear back right now. At least he could loop his nunchaku over it. It also made him look ridiculous, but he figured that people would be noticing the rest of him before they noticed the pants.

"If you're good with that, I'll find us a target."

"Way better than you think I am," Niikura shot back. Perfect One had been able to shoot through people without causing any organ damage; it would've been a disgrace to his legacy if his "descendants" hadn't been able to at least come close to that level of precision. The trick would be firing rapidly and yet maintaining consistency and accuracy, which would be more difficult than usual because the guns they had been given had ranges of perhaps fifteen meters or so. That was a fair distance, but he was going to make noise and attract attention. So...well, he could keep a level head, at least.

He nodded, jaw tight and eyes focused on the surrounding rooftops. There had to be some way to get up there and get into position. "I'm not picky. Just give me an idea of where you're gonna be so I can set up."

Niikura was confident in his abilities. That's all Mike needed to know. His partner wasn't going to let him down.

"Going for that one first," Mike pointed at a house a couple doors down from the nearest. "There's at least a little bit of cover."

Without speaking further, Mike crouched and began to move low to the ground. He was short, but even his smaller stature could still be caught by a stray flashlight beam. Keeping low wouldn't completely fix that, but it would at least make him less likely to be spotted. If they failed this mission, there was no telling what would happen to the Institute's population at large. Mike wasn't going to fail those that were depending on them.

Besides, if they failed, the Institute staff would probably pick up three people anyways. This mission was just to prove a point: that they were in control. It was luckily given to him and Niikura; both of them could handle being forced into this situation, knowing what it really was. Of course, that was rehashing, but sometimes it was good to remind oneself of what hung in the balance of one's success or failure.

Even thirty years later, sometimes the voice in Mike's head sounded like Master Splinter's.

He reached the first house, if one could really call it a house. It wasn't exactly in the best of shape. Then again, in his time, most buildings were in some state of disrepair. At least these people had their freedom.

... Except for those that he was about ready to help capture, but that was besides the point. Better three of them than dozens of others.

Mike found feeble light coming out of a window and he crept towards it, staying low. He froze when someone passed in front of the light source, then relaxed when their shadow stopped. Good. Someone was home. And that someone was going to be his first target.

He paused for a moment, looking for Niikura. Mike wanted to be sure Niikura was in position before he went to observe further. Situations like this had a habit of exploding suddenly, and Mike wasn't going to take any chances.

"Alright."

Time to find a good position. The roofs were low; he might be able to have a decent, uninterrupted shot from there if he could just find some way up...

As Mike began to close in on their first destination, Niikura slunk back into the shadows, seeking a small ledge or something that would give him a foothold onto the roof. He finally found one nearby: a trash heap tucked away in the back of a house adjacent to the one Mike had picked up. Excellent. Niikura checked the safety on Mike's gun before dropping down his shirt; then, he gingerly stepped on the heap and grimaced as his foot sank in a few centimeters. Without a flashlight, it was difficult to tell what exactly he was stepping on, but really, who needed to know? Smelled hideous either way.

...he was really happy he had gloves on.

...and he was going to leave this part out when he told Shiina about his adventure tomorrow.

Trying to hold his breath for as long as possible, Niikura slowly scaled the pile of trash until he was high enough to be able to jump and latch onto the edge of the roof. "C'mon...gotta..." He gritted his teeth as he hauled himself onto the tar paper shingles, pausing to enjoy the (relatively) fresh air and listen to see if anyone had noticed. When an acceptable amount of time had passed, he scrambled to his feet and began inching along the roof until he could see Mike over the ledge.

Could he see him? He couldn't shout; that'd get noticed for sure. How to...Niikura waved desperately, hoping that the other man would somehow have the sense to look up and notice that he was ready, before carefully extricating the gun from his shirt and loading one of the darts.

Deep breath. You've done this a thousand times. He checked the sights and then settled down into a more comfortable position. Now, all he had to do was wait.

He saw the waving and nodded at Niikura. Good, he was in position. That meant that it was time to get moving.

Mike gave the human a thumbs up, then moved closer to the window. He peeked into it, slowly. Two people. A man and a woman. No children. Thank god there were no children. Adults he could capture, even women. But children? That was a line he wouldn't cross.

He waved to Niikura, then, holding up two fingers. Good thing it wasn't four people, huh?

With the signaling done, Mike moved into position at the door, knocking on it then darting away. He's gotta get them outdoors, then slowly draw them into range. Probably with cat sounds. People always had to check out cat sounds.

Niikura squinted. How many fingers was that? Three? Two...? Ah, whatever, it looked like more than one. He definitely wouldn't have time to reload quickly enough to snag the other person, if that was the case. Better to just pull out the other gun if that was the case. Some more awkward wrangling with his shirt and the second one was out, loaded, and checked. He quietly set it down on the shingles and looked down hastily, hoping that he hadn't taken too long--ah, good, he hadn't. It was still only Mike's gargantuan (okay, not that big, but that shell) form still down there yet.

He watched as the man/turtle hastily moved away from the door. From this distance, it was hard to hear what was going on inside the house, but a few seconds later, he saw the front of the door open just so slightly and a thin crack of light appear. Then, softly, tentatively, a man's voice: "...Hello?"

"...one out there...?" "Not...can see...imagination..." The door closed.

"C'mon, Mike-san," Niikura hissed under his breath, gritting his teeth as he picked up one of the guns and cocked it. "Ya need to do better than that. Drag 'em out of there."

Mike made a sound of irritation. That usually worked on Foot Police. ... Of course, they usually had guns and were more likely to investigate a strange noise because they were supposed to investigate strange noises. Mike slapped his face. Yeah, that was a smooth move, shell-for-brains.

He went back to the door and knocked again, louder this time, calling out in a rough and 'terrified' old man voice. "Help me! I seem to have lost my glasses again...!"

Yes. Because this was terrifying to an old man, or something. He then went back off to one side of the house, waiting to call out again after they opened the door. "I swore I just had them...!"

Edited 2012-03-01 00:25 (UTC)

Ah, that was more like it. Niikura raised the tranquilizer gun as the door opened again. They didn't need to be fully outside, just far enough that he had a clean shot at...well, if he could, he'd try to hit a blood vessel on the first shot. It was kind of hard, visibility being what it was and all. And then, once the dart hit, how long would it be until it went into effect?

"...if he's lost his glasses out there, Joe..."

"Sorry," Niikura muttered as he followed the woman as she walked outside. She stopped just a few steps outside the door and turned around, presumably to argue with her husband. Too gullible. You'd think in these kinds of conditions, you'd pick up some more street smarts, but some people just never changed. Idealists...okay, maybe he was being a little hypocritical, although his brand of idealism wasn't nearly so pleasant.

He breathed slowly and squeezed the trigger, allowing himself a second's worth of satisfaction when he heard an "Ouch!" He set down the gun and picked up Mike's. It was already in position by the time the woman's husband had dashed out as well.

"What happened?! Are you okay>? Wha--what is that?" "Some kind of...oh no..." "We need to get back inside...get back inside right now..."

Yup, sucks. The second shot sank in just as the man began yanking the woman back into the apartment, eliciting another yell of pain. Well, his job was done. Time to get moving and find a new target. Niikura spared the couple one last look--wait. They were...gone? No. They'd just been there five seconds ago! Where--

In an instant, almost as soon as the door to the apartment slammed shut for the second time, he knew. Stupid tranquilizers. This was why the police never used them on human targets: unpredictable rates of effect. It'd probably take...well, it was difficult to say...but either way, it hadn't been instantaneous. Leave it to Landel to make this as complicated as possible.

"Mike-san!" he half-whispered as loudly as he dared. The two had been hit, and eventually, they'd go down, but they needed to get those collars on them before they could alert half the camp as well.

Turtle Luck struck again. Mike cursed under his breath. Of course. Of course this was thirty years before him, or something like that. The time didn't matter. All that mattered is that the tranquilizers weren't as quick as any of the things they used to stun people back home. Stupid, stupid turtle. He really was out of his own time.

Mike rushed after them before they decided to start screaming, but the door was already locked. Well, it wasn't a very good door. The wood would break too easily; there was a good chance he'd get his foot stuck in it. There was an obvious, although loud, solution to this.

He backed up, then ran at the door, turning to ram the door with the side of his shell at the last moment. The door fell to the dirty floor inside the house.

The man screamed weakly. The woman didn't. She was already unconscious in his arms.

"Don't," Mike growled out, walking towards them, frowning as the man pressed his back more firmly against the opposite wall. "S'gonna be a lot easier if you just cooperate."

"P-Please," the man begged, hugging his wife tighter. "We... we have nothing...."

"You know this ain't about money," Mike whispered, pulling a unlatched collar off from the pants around his waist.

The man began crying. Aw, shell. The turtle froze for a moment, then decided to stand in place. He'd let the guy have this last moment with his wife, even if it was the crappiest one ever.

It was good it was him and Niikura than another group. Mike's heart ached, and he had hidden his away a long time ago. He didn't want to think about how some green-around-the-ears patient would've reacted to somethin' like this. Either way, he knew what would be haunting his nightmares for the next week.

The man grew quiet after about a minute. Mike let out a sigh--finally. He walked forward quietly and then kneeled in front of them, fastening the collars. A moment, and then he moved the woman's neck closer to the man's, twisting her collar around so that both buttons were right next to each other.

He pushed them simultaneously, and then they were gone.

A minute went by before he slowly stood again and walked out of the door. He looked up to Niikura and nodded. It was done. They had one more to go.

Then, just when he thought it couldn't get worse, Turtle Luck once again proved him wrong. The door of the door of the house next door opened, and the resident, a man, came out. He had obviously been awoken by the noise and decided to investigate. Wow. None of these guys had any street smarts.

Mike stared at him. The man stared back. Mike took one step towards the man, preparing to rush at him, and the man screamed.

"MONSTER! THERE'S A MONSTER!"

... Well, so much for stealth.

Niikura hastily reloaded one of the guns as he watched Mike slip into the house, eyes darting around the vicinity to catch the shape of someone unwanted nearby. Man, this thing was not going to plan at all...sure was more exciting than he'd thought it was going to be, though.

He sighed in relief when he saw the turtle exit the building and nod up at him. That was two down, just like that. This was going to be a snap; all they needed was one more person, and they'd be able to jet out of here in no time at all.

"MONSTER, THERE'S A MONSTER!"

In retrospect, he'd been counting his chickens before they hatched, or however that Western saying went. Really, he should've known or at least suspected that their ridiculous luck had not yet had the last word.

"You've gotta be kidding me..." Niikura lowered the tranquilizer gun and groaned as he watched the man sprint off into the darkness. There went any possibility of having a quiet evening. Still grumbling, he slid back down onto the ground and then mentally kicked himself in the face as immediately, all the lights in the houses around him turned on and people began flooding out, pitchforks and all.

Are you kidding me? Okay, he took back everything he'd said about these people not really understanding their situation.

"Hey! You there! Back off!"

He threw himself against the side of the building just as a bullet screamed through the space where his head had been not more than a few seconds ago. "Shit!" Niikura cursed under his breath and started running, not even pausing when another bullet grazed his shoulder. "Go!" he yelled at Mike as he approached, blood beginning to stain the blue of his uniform. "We need to get this over with! That guy...he's on his own...JUST GET HIM."

They'd worry about the specifics later; he figured that winging things was something within both of their reaches. Right, he just really wanted to get out of range.

"You've got to be kidding me," Mike said in unison with Niikura; slightly different, but the meaning was exactly the same.

Alas, no, they weren't kidding. Turtle Luck struck again, and this time, it was personal. Not in the good, funny banter sort of way, either. More like the--they had pitchforks. They had pitchforks. Somehow, Mike was disappointed to not see any torches. They didn't even have flashlights. Seriously, if he was going to be running for his life, and that he was being chased by people wielding pitchforks, there were certain expectations that he expected to be upheld. These guys totally weren't holding up their end of the deal.

And then they had guns. Which really, really weren't even in the same genre. Their director needed to be fired. Immediately.

Mike was already chasing after the guy when Niikura yelled at him to go. The guy was unarmed, so he was still the best target. Niikura was hurt, and then needed to end it fast.

At least the guy was slow. Mike was able to lap him quickly and twisted to sink his fist into the man's gut, and he watched expressionlessly as the man slumped forward. No time for tranquilizers to work. Brute force was the only option.

Mike slung the guy over his shoulder and began running after Niikura. He had always been the fastest turtle, but carrying this guy was slowing him down. No time to get his collar on. They'd shoot him before he could fiddle with it.

... of course, that still begged the question of how he was going to escape. Yup. This was a great night to be out on a walk. Really great night, folks.

At least they weren't shooting at him while he carried the guy. He couldn't say the same for Niikura; he had seen the blood beginning to stain a moment before he ran, and it was already getting worse now. It wasn't likely to be lethal, and as long as he didn't get mud or anything in it, the nurses would bandage it in the morning.

Of course, they had to escape first, Mike thought to himself as he kicked a villager aside and dodged another two as he ran to catch up with Niikura. Mike wasn't sure exactly how they were going to do that, but he was pretty sure he'd come up with something.

Because as skinny as this guy was, he was still heavy enough that Mike didn't really feel like carrying him around while he got poked at by pitchforks any longer than he had to.

"I've got 'em! Let's get outta here!"

Edited 2012-03-04 01:37 (UTC)

His shoulder protested every time he moved his arm, but the adrenalin was starting to do its usual thing where it shoved all the pain into the corner for him to deal with later, which he really needed in this truly crucial moment.

"Don't tell me that...ah, crap," Niikura said, panting for breath as he skidded to a stop and executed a sharp turn down a nearby alleyway as the other possible paths flooded with people. What kind of town was this, huh? Were they all connected by some kind of hive mind? Actually, that made sense, since safety in numbers and all. He wouldn't have been surprised if somewhere buried in this town, there was some kind of supreme being trapped in a cocoon that sent out telepathic rays to everyone to enter Berserk Mode or whatever whenever it sensed trouble. Dystopian mangas always had something like that in them, and since his life inside the institute was starting to play out like one, it would make sense if his outside one was too--

"AUGH!" He snapped back to reality just in time to pivot neatly around the remnants of what had probably been a stop sign, although not without a truly ungainly scream. Niikura shook his head and then tried to focus his attention on someone else: Mike.

"Hey...why haven't ya put the goddamn...collar on him yet, huh?" he asked, trying to shoot the turtle his best glare as they thundered down another street. "And quit hoggin' the street!"

Nice move, Niikura. Kid must be new to getting chased down by an angry mob. Mike was fairly out of practice himself, but he was pretty sure he'd remember it fairly quickly. You learned quickly when you were running for your life.

At the comment about the collar, Mike let out a grunt. "Kinda only got one hand, here, N. And I ain't hogging--grab the collar and put it on!"

The sooner this guy was gone, the sooner he could go full speed--and fight with his arm. The more control he had, the less damage he would do. Sure, these people wanted to chase them down and kill them, but they didn't deserve to die for it.

Oh, right, he'd forgotten about that.

Niikura scowled--or, tried to. It was hard when you were running at breakneck speed. He reached out with a hand and tried to snag the collar from Mike's belt. Each time, though, his fingers would just barely miss, or latch on and then not be able to find purchase.

"Alright, that is it." He dug his feet in and grabbed Mike's shoulder. "Stop for a second, will ya?" There was really no time to lose, but he needed to grab that collar and fast. What he needed was a distraction. Think fast, Niikura. He had the tranquilizer gun and two darts left, but those would take a while to kick in, and they had already ground to a halt. He needed something that would be immediate.

Oh, right. His right hand went to the other holster at his side, the one that so far, had remained untouched. Room was tight, and .44 magnum went a long way, but at this point, he wasn't so concerned about innocent civilians getting in the way as he was getting out of this mess alive.

Drawing the revolver, Niikura dropped into a crouch and took aim. The first shot went through the knee of the man closest to him (and probably through a few other people's...eh, they'd live); as they stumbled and fell, sending the mob into disarray, he sent a second through a grimy streetlight, plunging the alley into darkness and showering the crowd passing underneath with small but still significant shards of glass.

No time to lose. He unhooked the collar and jammed it around their third catch's neck before punching the button and breathing an inward sigh of relief as the man vanished.

"There...got that over with..." Niikura squinted up in the darkness at Mike. "Don't call me 'N' again, hear?"

When Niikura grabbed his shoulder and told him to stop, Mike did wordlessly. He was already panting a little. Sure, he was as strong of turtle as anyone, but he was still exhausted from his earlier transformation. It was simply catching up to him now.

Mike winced when Niikura shot a guy through the knee, but said nothing. He'd seen worse. It was just bad seeing it on people that were likely innocent. Niikura was a good shot, and he was glad for it. It could have been a lot worse.

With the second shot, they were covered in darkness. He stood there, waiting, listening to the crowd let out shouts and cries. It would only startle them for a few more seconds--

And then the bulk he was carrying--although it really couldn't be called that, considering the guy was thin--was gone, and Mike had his arms free.

"How about Nii, then?" Mike asked, glancing at the crowd that he could barely see. "And how 'bout we run for our lives?"

Because someone had just found the one flashlight in the entire camp and turned it on to point it at them.

"Only if ya add '-kura' to the end of it," Niikura replied with just a hint of exasperation. What was it with people and giving him stupid nicknames? Granted, "Nii" wasn't as bad as "Showy", but it was getting there--and no, he didn't see any potential for it to grow on him with usage. "So, no to the first, yes to the second."

He really didn't need to be told twice about the necessity of running at this point, especially not with a flashlight beam shining right in his face. Pivoting, Niikura took off.

Mike smirked in response, but said nothing. Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't. Either way, he wasn't gonna let Niikura know of his plans. ... Okay, so he was going to just call him Niikura, but that wasn't the point.

He turned and broke into a run, following the teenager as the other humans started chasing them again. Running for his life was something Mike was good at, and he was nearly as good at it as being a ninja. Came with the territory. Actually, technically it didn't, since good ninjas normally didn't need to run for their lives. More like they ran to keep from being discovered or from some bomb they placed. ... Actually, that was still running for his life. Nevermind.

It would've been easy to go full speed, but Mike didn't. Those following them were half-starved. They'd tire out quickly, and then they'd be out of range. Unless they had snipers.

Mike, stop tempting the Turtle Luck, you idiot. Just run.

And so he ran out of the shanty town and into the clearing with his partner in crime.

"Think they're gonna tire soon?" Mike asked, barely sounding out of breath.

It didn't matter what Niikura's response was, because they were going to run anyways. And run they did. The refugees were indeed not healthy, and not quick--slowly, they started to fall behind them. Unfortunately, they were stubborn, and even as they fell behind, they still didn't give up the chase. It was good they were weak so that Mike didn't have to run full tilt--he could pace himself, and he knew Niikura would do the same.

After what seemed like forever, Mike and Niikura outran them all. They kept running, just to be sure. Finally, with burning lungs, Mike leaned forward, his one good hand resting on his knee. It wasn't his age, but the condition of his lungs, that kept him from going further. There was no point in pushing himself worse if they couldn't see anyone else for the moment.

"... Well, that was fun," he rasped out sarcastically. "Let's not do that again, okay?"

Edited 2012-03-08 11:58 (UTC)

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Night 61: Mission #6 [Niikura Shou and Hamato Michelangelo]

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/SOB and almost a week later....

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