OOM
Chase leaves the men's room with a spring in his step. Winning is ten times more fun when the game's that close, and as far as he's concerned, even more fun than that when your opponents are crazy Scientology rejects, or whatever the hell those cultists were. He looks around for Lyrae.
Damn. She's usually easy to spot, but she's nowhere in sight. Chase sighs. Knowing her, she's probably swished back off to Milliways without telling him.
He makes sure she's not anywhere in the arena, and steps out the door just in time to see the last of the cultists piling into a white van with a few weird symbols crudely painted onto the side with lavender house paint.
"Come on! Hurry up!"
"Go go go!"
He narrows his eyes. Fucking weirdasses. And he'd think nothing more of this if he didn't happen to notice a familiar beam of golden light shooting out of the back door of the van before it's slammed shut.
Aw, hell no. Chase stares helplessly after the van as it peels out. She's going to murder me when we get back to the Bar.
Well, there's nothing for it. He gets into the truck, grabs his gun from the glove compartment, makes sure it's loaded and peels out after the van.
Chase pulls quietly up to the compound and shuts the door with as little sound as possible. His first thought, for which he quickly chides himself, is that the cultists can't possibly be a very threatening adversary if they're forced to bring their kidnap victim to the basement of the Brookhurst Community Center. Never underestimate your enemy, he thinks to himself, even if they're a bunch of crazy-haired D&D freaks.
He keeps his weapon at the ready and clears each room of the center in turn, growing frustrated until he hears voices from the room at the end of the hall. He makes his way stealthily down the corridor, kicks the door open and stands menacingly in the doorway, armed and ready to shoot if necessary.
Damn. She's usually easy to spot, but she's nowhere in sight. Chase sighs. Knowing her, she's probably swished back off to Milliways without telling him.
He makes sure she's not anywhere in the arena, and steps out the door just in time to see the last of the cultists piling into a white van with a few weird symbols crudely painted onto the side with lavender house paint.
"Come on! Hurry up!"
"Go go go!"
He narrows his eyes. Fucking weirdasses. And he'd think nothing more of this if he didn't happen to notice a familiar beam of golden light shooting out of the back door of the van before it's slammed shut.
Aw, hell no. Chase stares helplessly after the van as it peels out. She's going to murder me when we get back to the Bar.
Well, there's nothing for it. He gets into the truck, grabs his gun from the glove compartment, makes sure it's loaded and peels out after the van.
Chase pulls quietly up to the compound and shuts the door with as little sound as possible. His first thought, for which he quickly chides himself, is that the cultists can't possibly be a very threatening adversary if they're forced to bring their kidnap victim to the basement of the Brookhurst Community Center. Never underestimate your enemy, he thinks to himself, even if they're a bunch of crazy-haired D&D freaks.
He keeps his weapon at the ready and clears each room of the center in turn, growing frustrated until he hears voices from the room at the end of the hall. He makes his way stealthily down the corridor, kicks the door open and stands menacingly in the doorway, armed and ready to shoot if necessary.