It is time. [open]

[yayashton]

WHO: Ryan [yayashton] and whoever else wants to kick some demon ass.
WHERE: Close to Broadway.
WHEN: 03/17/09; about noon
WARNINGS: If your character identifies with the word thug, you're prone to singing and possibly attempted harm on Ryan's part.
SUMMARY: In case of an emergency, BREAK DANCE!
FORMAT: You can choose, I mostly just felt like writing.

Comments

[leadtraveler]

It turned out Bobby wasn't as needed for guarding the medic station as he thought so he was patrolling, alone. Sure he knew it wasn't wise to be out alone, not with the way the city was. But after all he'd been through he felt it was better that he was alone. Others relying on him only ended badly.

So he was making his way along the street with his new staff in hand. It wasn't as great as the Dado killers he had used in the past but it did the job. And that was when he heard singing. An eyebrow went up, thoroughly confused. "Why are people singing?" he asked to no one as he followed the sound.

What he found just confused him further.

[yayashton]

On the edges of his vision, Ryan saw someone that wasn't singing, seemed very confused and was not anyone he recognized. Not that Ryan recognized many people in the City, but that wasn't the point. The point was that normally Ryan would explain exactly what was going on, but at that particular moment he couldn't. He was kind of in the middle of a verse.

"At the edge of the night
There's not a Deadite
I can't handle!"

The uglies chimed in (these were a new wave mixed in with some of the originals, the others were in various states of alive but incapacitated across the street) and Ryan felt a vague sense of satisfaction at that. It meant he still knew what he was doing, which was clear when Ryan spun into a kick that landed straight into one of the uglies' stomachs. It was something Ryan had highly modified from an akibo class he took once.

"When danger calls,
You must have the balls
Of an ox or a bear or any large mammal!Vaguely, Ryan wondered if he should acknowledge the observer. Except, he wasn't sure how to do it in the middle

[leadtraveler]

Bobby moved closer, fighting the urge to sing along. Which was difficult, because the closer he got the stronger the urge became.

But he couldn't be distracted by singing this guy needed help. It was surprisingly easy to block out the singing once he had focused on knocking guys out. His staff swinging quickly through the air, aimed for knees, stomachs, chests, anything he could hit. He seemed to move through the gathering crowd like it was second nature to him, given how many times he had fought off large crowds of enemies it might as well have been.

Whatever this guy was doing to them was making it easy to knock his way through them.

[yayashton]

Ryan had always found that if a person had very little brains to begin with (and the uglies didn't seem to have more than the average person), they didn't gain any when under the influence of song. In fact, they became a bit like zombies. Living zombies wearing designer clothes and possibly singing about status quo, but still kind of thoughtless. It probably had something to do with herd mentality, or sheep following their leaders right off cliffs, but Ryan didn't actually care for the science behind it.

He just like the song. Truthfully, Ryan could have done without the having to beat up people, but. If it had to be done, it had to be done. He switched to another song.

"God has smiled upon you this day,
The fate of a nation in your hands . . .
And blessed be the children who fight with all our bravery -
'Til only the righteous stand."

The message remained the same: Hey, you thugs! Join me in this number. It occurred to Ryan that after another few songs he was going to have to recycle them, but he doubted the uglies cared.

"You