(OOC: Sorry... it's a long one !shy )<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">... Approximately half an hour away, on the other side of the coin, our hero is held up...</span><br/><br/><br/>For a man with a gun in his mouth there are a limited number of options.<br/><br/>Most of them already severely hampered by the small factor of a large, metal barrel with vacant, black eyes of death pursed between his pretty, pink whistlers, but for what few there are still available, there is no accounting for their sheer dreadfulness.<br/><br/>Unless he can pull a Matrix and move faster than the bullets can say â€˜a couple of stitches are not gonna clean this mess upâ€™, there is a narrowed window of moving space.<br/>A good start.<br/>Jerking his head back and making a dash for it or lashing out have the same chances as well as all the same consequences of a game of Russian Roulette. Unless the gunner happens to be scratching his nose or distracted otherwise, the council are going to be spending much needed public taxes on clearing his brains off the sidewalk concrete.<br/><br/>Running was an insta-no no.<br/><br/>The second rabbit-in-the-headlights-thought that might ferment in the panicked jelly of his threatened head was to initiate some kind of peace treaty. Perhaps even attempt a negotiation.<br/>This was all smoke and mirrors.<br/>He could be rattling on about bollocks and potatoes for all that the attacker knew and it would all look the same as the Lordâ€™s Prayer. A real certified genius of gun-to-mouth dialect could probably count the number of metallic clicks as his milky, little teeth clipped the surface of the barrel and calculate from the particular tone and length of the grunts exactly what was being put across.<br/><br/>Dylanâ€”our particular sod with a gun in his gobâ€”was betting his token attacker couldnâ€™t understand a single goddamn word.<br/><br/>This wasnâ€™t a fact young Dylan had plucked clean from the air, no sir. Dylan the druggie, Dylan the delectable, Dylan the diabolical knew his attacker, like so many victims all over the world and all across the ages had before him. He knew her very well.<br/><br/>He even knew how she liked her eggs in the morning, though if wanted to keep Tom, Dick and Harry exactly where they were heâ€™d have to keep mum about it, at least whilst she was in the same Country as him.<br/><br/>The hookers name was Kansas and she was open to bribes...<br/><br/>Kansas had him up against the wall of the alley now, the damp crap from a leaky storm drain creeping through the pale material of his suit and sending a dank chill up the length of his spine. Though he was painfully tempted, Dylan wasnâ€™t foolhardy enough to risk telling her exactly what he thought of her clown make-up and tacky, dirt cheap heels to her face, even with the gun muffling every word. So instead the gutless fiend settled on begging for his own skin.<br/><br/>â€œShut it!â€ She snapped grinding the weapon as deep as if would go into the street mageâ€™s throat. The symbolism was not lost on either of them, â€œIf I wanted to hear you sing Iâ€™d have kicked you in the nuts, I wouldnâ€™t have put a gun in your mouth! Do you know why Iâ€™ve got you here today, son?â€<br/><br/>He was sure heâ€™d never seen a pair of black eyes light up, but there it was.<br/><br/>â€œMmffftttssmmm gnnyaaah,â€ he replied.<br/><br/>â€œNow listen closely, sweetie, I donâ€™t want you to miss a thing...â€ She growled, â€œYou.â€ the gun ground his dental practitioners hard work to dust, â€œOwe.â€ Every muscle in his jaw ached and creaked with it, â€œDaddy.â€ She thrust all of her weight against him. She might have been a pretty little creature, but she was as imposing as the four horsemen and a fiery sky when she wanted to be, â€œMoney.â€<br/><br/>The weapon was withdrawn and the relief flooded in immediately. A breath he didnâ€™t even know he was holding rattled up from Dylanâ€™s dry throat and his knees nearly collapsed in on him. His magic burnt eyes flit back up to Kansas, every inch of him still on high alert. Whilst she was holding the possible tool of his demise he wasnâ€™t letting up for a second. No thank you!<br/><br/>She was cleaning saliva from the glistening skin of the barrel with a tissue from her pocketâ€”<br/><br/>â€˜<span style="font-style: italic">Good grief! A whore with hygiene standards</span>!â€™ there was almost a physical noise, like a kettle going off as he bit the comment back in the nick of time. Nickiâ€”sorryâ€”Kansas turned on her heel as his sensing the fleeting snigger.<br/><br/>There was a small flash of moment and suddenly a sharp, shock of pain splintered every nerve ending in his left cheek. The noise of flesh striking flesh hit him a moment after the pain.<br/><br/>His mind staggered, fingers massaging the freshly blooming red welt on his cheek, â€œAh...â€<br/><br/>Kansas stood, open palm still extended with the promise of a second slap, â€œEvery penny you owe me is a penny I owe The Twilight!â€<br/><br/>â€œThen tell them that!â€<br/><br/>The bitch struck again.<br/><br/>Dylan whined clutching at his poor prone cheek, â€œWhat the hellâ€™s wrong with you!? Oh come on! Weâ€™ve been friends for yearsâ€”sisters even!â€<br/><br/>â€œSays the prick who took advantage of my good nature!â€ She roared, cramming her gun down the back of her skirt and under her jacket, out of sight, out of mind, lest the domestic suddenly become too public.<br/><br/>â€œI needed a hit!â€ he dodged the incoming hand, â€œbut- but thatâ€™s neither here nor there!!â€<br/><br/>â€œOh it was pretty here and there at the time!!â€<br/><br/>â€œHere me out!â€ he squeaked loudly ducking back, shoulders planted firmly into the brick wall. If his dancersâ€™ feet served him well enough maybe how could inch side-wards and out into the freedom of the neon boulevard... â€œYouâ€™re my bestie! Iâ€™m not gonna let you take a blow fer me, am I missis?â€<br/><br/>â€œIt hasnâ€™t bothered you in the past,â€ she grit her teeth watching him edge away with one beady eye, â€œNo, youâ€™re right,â€ she jabbed an accusing finger into his chest, dead centre, almost enough to knock the breath from him, â€œIâ€™m going to set their dogs on you instead!â€<br/><br/>The sentence alone was effective as a bullet to the brain, â€œWhat!??â€ his eyes shot saucer wide.<br/><br/>â€œYou heard,â€ Kansas growled, already turning tail.<br/><br/>â€œNOnonononononoo!!â€ Dylan went to dart over, grab her arm, start telling her how much he was in love with her, he was pregnant with her babyâ€”shit, any excuse, but hesitated as her painted nails reached back and drummed the handle of her weapon.<br/><br/>His mouth went dry and his stomach knotted.<br/><br/>All the world pooled around him; brick, sky, bins, grit and the flickering light of a dodgy street lamp all swirling around him like someone had pulled the plug and his vision. His mind could only stutter up placid, half formed thoughts and it held them like fingers could sand.<br/><br/>Heâ€™d spent years avoiding the gangs.<br/><br/>Heâ€™d skimped by the skin of his teeth to skirt at the edge of their vision and now ... well now he owed them money. A LOT of money. Big moolah...<br/><br/>Shit me, he knew he should have never have gotten out of bed...