Life under the gun [Active, open]

[fistfeetfighter]

Characters: Tifa, anyone who feels like jumping in
Content: A bruised and confused Tifa wakes up in Manhattan
Location: A few blocks north of Madison Square Garden
Time of day: Afternoon
Warnings: None atm

Comments

[justmurphy]

Tired as she was, Murphy kept a sharp eye and a loaded gun as she walked back from the Garden to where Harry had found for their new "home." The wizard would probably throw a fit if he knew she was unescorted, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Besides, she didn't have to tell him.

She stopped in her tracks when she heard a sharp cry in the air. Trotting back a few feet, she saw a woman sitting up on a bench on the cross street. She had the disoriented expression that was becoming decidedly familiar.

"Hello?" Karrin said as she approached. "Are you all right?"

[fistfeetfighter]

Tifa looked up at the woman approaching her, carryng a gun and looking both sharp and capable. "Oh, good! I'm so glad someone's here," she admitted with relief. She tried to stand, gripping the back of the bench and pushing herself slowly upright before pain and abused muscles made her drop back to her seat again with a hissed breath. "I'll be fine," she added through gritted teeth, unbelievably annoyed with how weak and bruised she felt at the moment.

"Where am I? I know it sounds weird but don't know how I got here."

[calling_cards]

He sat on the curb across the street, shuffling a deck of cards in his gloved hands as he hummed to himself. It was, of course, an extreme bore when you couldn't find a suitable poker buddy in a city (or at least the ruins of a city) crawling with potential players; he could only hope the gamblers would crawl out of the woodwork once he gathered enough chips.

They always do.

The Joker placed a few cards on the sidewalk in the beginnings of a base for a house of cards with a steady hand, paying no mind

(though he was aware make no mistake about that)

to the two woman.

[hancocked]

It was times like this that he was sure that something drew him to helping beautiful women in trouble, whether he meant to or not. Trusty crowbar in one hand, still wet with that bizarre crab blood, Hancock eyed up the scene. There was Tifa, who must have been the new one, a woman he hadn't met before--who couldn't have been as new if she was carrying a gun around with her, and... that guy. Wonderful.

Hancock gave the Joker only a slight glance before hustling across the street, wishing he had bothered to wipe off his crowbar. It was a lot creepier looking when it was covered in blood.