Jimmi curses silently, damnably time for the scooter to be playing hard to start. He's not about to let the harbourmaster take the fall for him though. It's not his way, not a righteous way. Jah wouldn't approve of no man who won't fight his own battles.

Jimmi crouches low a moment, then leaps high off of the scooter, rolling in mid air and twisting until his feet are under him again. He aims to land right on one of the dock support pillar tops, facing the gathering that followed him from his restaurant.

`I an I be right here me fellows. No need to be botherin' the man at his work, when all you be wantin' is for us to be dealing with you once an fer all.`

The heavies look to Jimmi, all at once grin broadly, point their weapons, and fire. Jimmi winces, waiting for the hot lead, but it never comes. He opens one eye and sees that the harbormaster has knocked the guns aside, putting a nice couple of holes in the Wild Turkey.

The gunfire has sent anyone who can swim off the sides of the dock, and everyone else behind cover. Everything is deadly silent as the gunmen change their aim to take out the aggravating harbormaster.

"You put a hole *breathe* in my BOAT!" Iron hollers, putting both rounds from the pistol into one of the offending punks.

"You want some b*tches!! Ya wanna mess with ME!!" Iron drops the pistol and will come up with the FN HAR and ready to spray a lot of hot lead into the violaters. After all, they shot up the mans boat.

Ziptide smiles a genuine smile for the first time in days as he watches events unfold. Finally, something interesting happening! But the smile fades from his face as the bullets punch into the Wild Turkey, replaced by a snarl. A faint green luminescense seems to spring up around him, as his eyes grow darker and his hair ripples as if stirred by an unseen breeze. With a low growl, he unleashes his magical energy at the big anglo troll. Of course, he could have blamed the harbor master just as easily - he tends to side with the underdog by preference, though.

Horatio's magic isn't as visually stunning as Ziptide's. Behind his sunglasses, Horatio's eyes faintly glow in the dancing hues of fire while the air ripples slightly as if suddenly heated. Aligning his will with the branch of fire, Horatio commands what is best described as a a neurological mallet into the unsuspecting psyche of his target.

The trolls eyes practically burst in his face as all the blood in his body seems to come to the surface, popping veins and pouring the sticky red liquid from every orifice, his eyes, and his ears. He screams as he drops to his hands and knees, head clutched in his hands.

The other three stare in wonderment and then bolt as soon as troll unleashes with the unearthly howl, two of them run and one puts his hands up, dropping his weapons, but not quickly enough to avoid a stunbolt. He grabs his skull in both hands, snapping his head back, and crumples to the ground in the fetal position without a sound.

Johnny watches as the events unfold from his position on the dock, removed from his gun, and his precious explosives. He decides to pretend to be a bystander until the fight's over. When the last troll falls, he goes up to the Jamaican kid.

"What the hell was that about, man?"

Jimmi was half crouched and ready to launch into a flurry of motion, intent on disarming the drugloard's goons, when the others on the dock had acted. He plants a hand on the pillar, taking a three point stance. He takes a moment to regard the gathered persons, the Awakened in particular. When Johnny adresses him, he turns his gaze to the man.

"I an I be thankin' the lot of you. Those be the keepers of Babylon, a pack 'o Rudeboys workin' for the most heinous mon on this here island. They be sore dat I an I didn't roll over when they took ta burnin' my stand down.`

The tall youth stands now, and hops easily off of the pier support, walking over to clap a hand on the dockmaster's shoulder. He nods a silent thanks before looking to the others again.

Rodger survays the damage to his boat, seeing it to be superficial, hops the rail, and ejects the brass from his pistol into the water on the way to talk with Jimmi. "Da keepshersh of babylon? Dey look like thugsh ta me. And from da looksh of dem, de be back wish more later. Prehaps ya know shomething about boats?" Iron grins, showing a few gold teeth among the ivorys. Hes doing his best to non verbly convay that he's an old school corsair. Which includs stuffing the still hot barrell of his pistol into his waistband, with the expected results.

"Don't burn little Rodger like you did last time with that thing. I am not helping you put salve on it again.", Johnny says as Rodger puts the pistol back.

"Anyway, kid, my name's Johnny. I'm captain of this crew, and I guess I'm what you'd call a Rudeboy. Used to drum for a Rudeboy Ska band, but that's beside the point. Who're you?"

Ziptide walks over, almost amiable now that he has finally gotten to release a bit of his pent-up violence. He smiles nastily as he passes the incapacitated troll, and smiles a bit more nicely as he nods to Jimmi. "Why do these punks always have to give themselves airs? 'Keepers of Babylon', give me a break. Just once, I'd like to see an underworld organization named 'Buddy's Legbreakers' or something."

He shudders at Johnny's comment. "All right, now that's a mental image I didn't need."

Dude, I shut this down over a week ago.

Horatio Stunbolts Glyph (yes, you, not your character, you)
sorcery + spell pool starting with a 6D: 1,1,1,2,3,3,3,3,4,4,5,7
If your willpower is 4 or below, that little fictional spellslinger has put you in a world of sleep.

Secretly high-fives Herald.

*Stunbolts himself*

Own3d.