Jason
Sullivan's Irish Pub, Balibago, Angeles City - 10/18/2022, 20:50 UTC+8
"I have aerokinesis precise enough to rip off your breath from your lungs. Do not test me."Highly doubtful considering he hasn't attempted to knock him out with it yet, and even if he tried, his regeneration and blood manipulation can compensate. Jason hasn't bothered testing how long he could do such a thing, but that could be a pretty good avenue of future training.
"You've already killed civilians; by the laws of war..."Technically speaking, that's an unfair accusation. Attacked them? Sure. Set in motion misunderstandings leading to untimely deaths? Plenty. However, the only instance where he's been directly 'responsible' for the death of a civilian was the woman with the stab wound, at least during his deployment here. He's not even sure she's dead yet. The civilians he killed within the pub can be justified in the eyes of society, if not the law, since he is under duress; he would have stopped at infection had he not taken a bullet to the leg, but since he had been temporarily impaired, his life had been under imminent threat. Killing those people could therefore be considered an act of self-defense, since his choice to do it had been purely utilitarian in nature.
...He still didn't want to deny the accusation. He can't be certain about the woman, since he didn't know whether she has yet succumbed to blood loss, and splitting hairs on killing a civilian versus civilians and the circumstances surrounding qualifiers to such statements wouldn't accomplish anything anyway.
There's a dull thrum in the back of his head when he thinks about what he's done to that woman in particular. He supposes it was rather selfish, using her as a personal litmus test.
Ugh... he's letting his thoughts wander again.
"Do not make your situation any worse; if you surrender now, arrangements can be made in exchange for the survival of the remaining civilians; even more for curing the infection you caused..."He barks out a laugh. Then he lets go of the man he's been holding hostage, letting his Hemokinesis hold the knife against his throat. "Hand me an empty bottle. Your cheapest drink, if you've got nothing empty."
He ignores the sound of a flare going up outside as the man shakily complies, standing up - within view of the gunman outside, though he can't imagine they'd take the shot through the infected civilians clogging up the pub's entrance, nor risk extraction of the remaining uninfected when the man is currently between the floating knife at his neck and Jason, who happens to be armed with a large ball of stolen blood. The man returns with a mostly empty bottle of San Pellegrino, looking pale as a sheet. He supposes that's to be expected given the bedlam going on at the back of the pub - a cacophony of crying and misdirected violence as they all panic out of their minds.
He takes the bottle, uses a little blood to clean out the insides, removing all of the sparkling water, then discards the liquid in the sink. He takes a bit more blood, fills the bottle up, then turns it into the Panacea.
He creates another two knives to cover all angles, then positions them around his hostage's neck. It takes a bit of concentration to keep them the right distance away to keep from cutting the man as he moves and breathes, but he already has to divert focus to him in order to keep the other infected off, so it's not much worse.
He calls out to the gunman as he tests his mostly healed leg with a stomp against the ground. "Coming out. Attack, and I can't guarantee this hostage's safety." He couldn't even if the gunman didn't attack, and safety was relative to begin with, though he had no intention of harming the man, (at least not meaningfully) and at a certain point, language simply does not play nice with specificity. If he specified he had no intention of harming the man at all, he'd also have to specify for how long, and 'until I escape' probably wouldn't go over well, especially if they took it to mean he wanted to harm the man afterwards. What if he's a particularly ornery hostage with a hidden Noble Arm? People never think their commitments through.
In any case, the gunman didn't feel it prudent to take blind shots through the counter, so he doubted he'd actually risk the hostage even if he had something to say to the contrary. He stood up, finally showing himself from over the counter, and directed the man to stand up with him. He had the man lead the way to make it easier to multitask his concentration, but instead of walking towards the back of the pub near the hysterical infected to go around the counter, the man decided to clamber over it. Fair enough, not even Jason was safe from them, even if none of them could realistically harm him.
They walked out in front of the pub, gently pushing the forlorn looking civilians who had been eyeing the gunman out of the way when his hostage didn't feel confident in doing so. Jason floated the Panacea bottle over beside him.
There, Jason finally came close enough to get a good look at the gunman. He had flown down to get a better angle on the pub, but was still hovering out of reach of the infected. His features were effeminate, and his hair was a nostalgic shade of strawberry red...
He averted his eyes before his ghosts had time to come back and haunt him. Hopefully the mask did a good job of hiding where he was looking. It certainly helped hide whatever face he was making. He mentally shook it off.
"If you wanted the cure, all you had to do was ask." The San Pellegrino bottle filled with Panacea floated on beside him. He really didn't mind giving away the cure; it's not like it could be kept effective for long, and curing the zombies wouldn't constitute a failure state. In fact, it would help hide the inherent time limit of his viruses. The exterior of the bottle just so happened to be covered in a thin layer of the apathy virus, but since it was mostly dried and impossible to discern from the bottle's contents, the gunman didn't need to know that.
He handed the bottle over to the hostage, being sure to keep the virus on the bottle from infecting the man. It would help hide the virus and prove the Panacea was real. "Why don't you demonstrate it? Pick one of the infected and make them drink. Here, I'll remove my protection to make it easier to see the effect-"
All at once, every lonely infected took their eyes off of Amadeo to stare at the man in their midst. He flinched, and Jason let the back of the man's neck touch one of the knives. "You're safe. Relax. They're annoying, but harmless."
The man was soon smothered by the strangers who had started grabbing and holding onto him for dear life. It was better that he didn't make contact with the infected to prove the cure's authenticity, though he wouldn't deny avoiding that was a major factor in his decision to do it this way.
The man, visibly very uncomfortable with all the people and the knives around him, uncapped the bottle and pressed it against the nearest man's lips. "Drink." Jason commanded, since the hostage didn't seem composed enough to give the order himself. The infected man, irrationally trusting the object of his obsession, complied, and, after a few seconds, began to grow confused, not entirely sure why he was hugging the pub's bartender. He backed away from his first hostage, and Jason stepped forward to put an arm around the man. It was an overly friendly gesture - hopefully indicating his lack of intent to harm to the gunman. Technically, all of the infected were his hostages, though it seemed that they weren't recognized as such until they were cured. "Hello, healthy hostage two." He pulled another knife from his back - a butterfly knife, just to play with using his free hand. It felt rude to point it at the new hostage right off the bat, though the knife tricks and his grip on the man's shoulder had him plenty intimidated. He let his protection on hostage 1 come back up, and the lonely infected slowly began peeling themselves off of him, returning their focus to the gunman.
He took the bottle from the first hostage's grip, using his Hemokinesis, lifting it up to the man's lips. "You might want to take a drink yourself." The man wasn't actually infected - he had enough control to do that much, but he was covered in the sweat of the other infected, and he didn't particularly see the point to letting the man become infected when they inevitably parted ways. The Panacea wasn't by any means a permanent cure, though unless he deliberately messed with the virus strains, it could prevent reinfection in cases like these.
The man hesitantly complied, taking a sip, then made a disgusted face. He finally spoke for the first time since he was taken hostage, "Tastes like blood."
A shocking revelation. Who would have thought that blood tasted like blood. "I've been working on that." he comments offhandedly, because he has, even if it hadn't been because of the Panacea. He doesn't look back at the gunman - didn't like his face, but he turned to address him nonetheless. "The bottle contains the cure. It works on the zombies and all of the infected here." There. No room for ambiguity. It should be clear he meant it when he said that all the gunman had to do was ask.
Just then, a riot police squad pulled up, leaving their vehicle only for the attention of all of the lonely infected to turn away from Amadeo and towards them.
"Attention! This is the police! Surrender now, and there will be no further trouble!"The infected hesitated, but still began drawing towards the newcomers as they erected a shield wall. Unfortunate, how often police seemed to shoot first and ask questions later, though he supposes that trait isn't unique to the police. One of the members held an old Roman shield, too ornate and incongruous to be anything but a Noble Arm. He held it up above him - a barrier perhaps? Not likely a threat, then. He addresses the gunman without taking his eyes off of the riot police. "You mentioned something about killing civilians earlier?" It'd be quite ironic if they began opening fire. He shook his head. "Nevermind. Well, here, you wanted the cure, right?"
Jason takes the bottle from his hostage and uses his considerable strength to throw the bottle up, aiming it over rooftops, at an angle from his escape route so that he could potentially take the gunman captive if things went well but divergent enough that he could avoid the gunman if things didn't. He took off at the same time, not particularly caring if the riot police opened fire considering the crowd of infected he had as cover and the two hostages he was dragging along. He carried the second over one shoulder, letting the butterfly knife float next to his head, while the other felt the gentle press of a knife on the back of his neck until he followed, forced into a route that put him in the way of any incoming bullets or Noble Arm projectiles. Jason ran back towards the alleyway, turning the corner into it, then ran up to the gate and simply jumped it, kicking off the wall and over it. It left him vulnerable to gunfire if anyone had an angle from outside the alleyway, but the gunman should hopefully be busy, and hostage 1 could continue providing cover from the other side of the gate after landing.
The back of the alleyway led to a small square lot, which would let him break line of sight to the alleyway. Upon arrival, he'd pulled the knives around hostage 1's neck away, up, then towards him, releasing his hostage without meaningful harm, as promised. He'd then reposition the knives around hostage 2, reducing the man's struggling, but mainly just to save himself the trouble of making more.
The lot rests at a lower elevation than the street at the back of it, but it wasn't too high for him to leap up and climb over, and from there, he could get try getting lost within the semi-residential backstreets.
1x Like
