5555/Ashley William's Right Hand Man

Ashley William's Right Hand Man
Date of Scene:	14 October 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Ash Williams, Mercy Thompson

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Ash Williams has posed:
    It's not a familiar place to Ash. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But for the man with the epic chin, it seems like it's a new place to be, and he pauses at the bottom of the driveway to Mercy's Garage, dabbing his fingers into a spot of oil that's been left there. Smearing between them, he inhales it, and then touches his tongue to it. "There she is." He murmurs. Dressed in traditional blue and brown, he looks almost identical to the man who'd been here only a day before, but with his right hand in his pants pocket as he wanders into the office.

    "Anybody home?" The same charming and yet slightly obnoxious shout, as he looks for people.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy's on the phone in the office, apparently negotiating with a you pull it, aka junkyard, about some parts they may or may not have. She waves and Ash and waves toward one of the other chairs in the office. After another minute or so she hangs up, and stands. "Hey..." She's wearing work clothes...a coverall over t shirt and jeans, the top of the coverall pulled off and tied around her waist since she's not rolling in the grime out on the shop floor. "How's teh Olds? It didn't break again already did it?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "I, uh..." Ash seems momentarily taken aback but that kind of familiarity but takes a seat. "Hey, I'm looking for an Oldsmobile, as it turns out. A seventy three - Old guy who looks kind of like me driving it." A chuckle follows, "But that can wait. How'd you escape from my dreams? Don't tell me - I'm still dreaming." An open compliment. He's definitely acting like Ash.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy rocks back in her chair looking at the guy for a moment, while her nose tests the air. "Yeah....Could be a dream," she agrees. "This is New York though, not Hollywood so probably not. She sniffs again, then grabs for one of the ubiquitous blue shop towels and sneezes into it. "Scuse me. Yeah, there was a guy here with an Olds the other day. Why're you looking for him anyway?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Excused, lovely lady. Well, it turns out that there's some evil version of me running around causing all kinds of problems." Ash raises a hand to his hair, running it through and shaking his head slowly. "So I'm gonna have to deal with him sometime soon." Another brief laugh, "Not that I wanna involve you in all of my drama. Don't suppose you know /where/ he went though?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "No clue," Mercy replies. "I fixed his car and he drove off." She doesn't feel the need to mention the tacos or the robbery. She was there when the cops brought back the money that had been stolen. "He didn't fill out any of the usual work order paperwork." She wrinkles her nose a little at the dead smell. "So, an evil twin huh? How do you tell the difference?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Guess it's hard to tell, huh." Ash shrugs lightly. "It's the little things that really give him away. See, a long time ago, there was an accident. Long story short, I got possessed by this demon, and my hand got cut off." He gestures at his pocket. Any further chance to explain is interrupted by the sound of the front door.

    And... It's Ash. Together with a bunch of flowers that he almost certainly picked up at a gas station, he notes Mercy first, "Oh, he--" And then... There's Ash. And his eyes widen a touch. "Son of a bitch, you again."

    The response is exactly as kind, as his double rises from the chair. "Me again. Howdy, Ashy Slashy. Came all the way here just to put you down, didn't think you'd come to me though." A chuckle. "Stay still, buddy. This won't take long."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Oh...shoot," Mercy mutters. Breakage costs money and the insurance company is already not happy with her. "So one of you's really dead? And the other? What'd I do to deserve this, anyway." It's clearly a rhetorical question. "Or posessed..." She starts fingering her necklace and the Lamb pendant on it.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Semi-fortunately for Mercy, at least one Ash is going to be considerate. With both hands that look at least mostly human, the one closest to her charges at Ash, picking him up and carrying him out of the office in a flying tackle. It leaves a small crack in the doorframe, where the other Ash's footwear catches, and leaves one shoe waiting beside a discarded bunch of flowers. How romantic.

    "Why won't you die!?" One of the Ash's can be heard to yell, and then there's a flurry of punches and throws. After several seconds, a bruised middle-aged man is thrown into the garage proper, sliding along the smooth concrete for a few meters before he gets himself back to his feet - And withdraws a bone handled, intricate dagger from his calf instead. "C'mon, buddy. This thing'll put you down for good!" He warns, raising his fists.

    The assault then ends about as fast as it began. The other Ash takes off running, and Ash turns to look at the office, trying not to look embarassed as he offers a wave to Mercy with his gauntlet hand, still holding a knife. And if the dead-handed man smelled a little strange, this knife is something /else/. Magic. Death. Evil. "Uh. Hey. Sorry about that. See, my hand keeps growing new me's."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy pusches back away from the door frame as the fight begins. Then she looks at the dagger held in Ash's gauntleted hand. "What in hell is -that-?" She sounds angry, and she's stalking toward him, righteous fury in her eyes. "Nice of you to tell me zombie you is out there hunting...and that you -made- him."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Hey, first things first, it wasn't on purpose." Ash is nice enough to put the dagger away, hiding it back along his calf, "I didn't even know when I cut it off it was gonna grow a me. And I've killed him a few times, he just doesn't stay dead." And then, in a typical defusing move, he makes his way back to the flowers, and slips his shoe back on, before holding out the now slightly damaged bouquet. "Gotcha these. And that's uh... A kandarian dagger. Or THE Kandarian dagger. Either way, deadites and demons /do not like/ it. And it's really, really bad at spreading jam." Bizarre Kandarian Fact #1118

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Flowers. It's sort of hard to stay angry when presented with a bedraggled bouquet. She takes them, anger fading but suspicions still clear in her eyes. "So how do I know you're you and not zombie you. YOu smell." She sniffs. "Something's dead around here and that knife, that's nothing but pure evil. If I knew how to et to Mordor I'd drop it in Mt Doom myself."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash lifts his metal hand in response, and with his left, turns and pulls it off - Revealing the metal adapter plate installed over his wrist. "Real Ash is left handed." He responds simply. "And yeah. The knife is creepy as hell, but it's the only thing that'll kill a Dark One, or if Kandar the Destroyer rears it's ugly head again, it'll do it too. It'd probably do that creepy-ass book but since it's wearing my best friend as a cover, I'm not gonna try that." A chuckle follows. "'Course, even bad me has an eye for a good looking lady."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy sort of rolls her eyes at that. "I still think you need to check into SHIELD's optometry insurance." At least there's no oil streaks on her face today. "Thanks for the flowers though." She rummages around and finds a vase, actually a dusty beer glass in this case, to put them in. A little water, a little arranging, they're not so bedraggled anymore. "Real Ash is left handed. How about zombie Ash? Right handed 'cause he's a reflection?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash reattaches his hand, and walks after Mercy slowly. "He's right handed 'cos that's what he grew from. And it looks like it was chopped off a bunch of years ago." He states simply, "Haven't tried stabbing him with my fancy knife yet though, figure that'll do him once and for all. Would've done it now but figured you'd be a bit pissed if I left you with a mess to clean up. Deadite's don't die pretty."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Huh," is all the initial response Mercy gives. "I'm a mechanic...mess is sort of expected. Next time, just kill it, I can deal with mess. If nothing else, burn it with fire probably works." She flops back into her chair and waves Ash toward a seat, the flowers on the desk now, next to the computer monitor between them. "So what brings you over today? Flowers? The car still running straight?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "I uh... I tried fire once. It just made him look /super/ creepy." Ash shakes his head at the suggestion, and takes the same seat his doppleganger had half a minute ago. "The Delta is still running sweet. Short of needing to save the world again, she'll be fine for a while." A smile follows for Mercy then, "But yeah, the flowers. You were pretty nice to me yesterday so I wanted to do something nice for ya."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     The reply gets a bit of a smile. "Thanks. The flowers are sweet of you." She looks around, the place is otherwise pretty drab. "I probably should bring some in more often, or a live plant. But I hve a grey thumb at best, plants wither and die around me. I'm glad the car is working for you. I figured it had to be something simple if it's running one minute and not the next."

Ash Williams has posed:
    It's a mechanics. The only thing that should be here with any colour is a highly inappropriate calendar, and that might not work for Mercy. Maybe it would. Ash clears his head, and shrugs. "Guess that's why flowers are a nice thing. They're kind of supposed to die, no-one really judges you if that happens. If it makes you feel any better pretty much everything around me dies." A chuckle follows. Albeit a nervous one.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Makes you wonder why you're hanging around me," Mercy says. She smiles a little to take the sting out of the words. "Just kidding. But I do see my trouble magnet is stil working full force." She waves a hand at him. "Just kidding. So I did some reading up on you Mr Willaims. There wasn't much... SHIELD is pretty good at covering things up."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash shakes his head. "I ain't giving up beautiful women or beer, no matter what happens. Maybe it'll cause problems, but the way I see it, if I'm siting in my trailer doing nothing and just waiting Evil's pretty much won." He scratches his chin, when she states she's done some research into him. "Don't blame SHIELD for that. Elk Grove was a hole, and I've done some hopping around in time that didn't make the papers - Shit, did they even have papers back in those days? I mean, Arthur was gonna make me one of his knights, but we were kind of busy saving the world." A pause. "Kind of pissed that the Kandar the Destroyer thing was covered up," A short, halting laugh, "'Cos I'm kind of proud of that one."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy shakes her head. "I'm not sure what to make of you. You've got this whole good guy bad guy thing going, and I'm history major...I came here to teach history, I tihnk I told you that, so hearing about Arthur really appeals to me. But then what little common sense I have kicks and grabs my ear and screams 'whatre you thinking, Mercy?'" She shrugs, and looks over at Ash. "Why is the long way around of saying you're ok to hang around the garage if you want."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Hey, I wouldn't go saying I'm a good guy or a bad guy. I'm just a guy. And history is... Weird. Lot of the stuff I went through didn't make it into any books that I've read," It probably did, he just hasn't read many books, but that's beside the point. "Listen. I'm not gonna claim I'm not dangerous to have around, and I'm not gonna pretend that some of the crap I've been through and I'm gonna go through isn't weird as all hell. But I'm just a guy at the end of the day. Which means that sometimes I'll bring flowers to a pretty girl, and sometimes my evil clone will try to kill me while that happens."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy laughs, she can't help it. "Ok ok...you can bring me flowers. I'm a tomboy but that also means I'm a girl sorta by definition. I'll just be ready for trouble, too." She looks at the paperwork, looks out at the garage bay outside. And right now I'm closing up shop. Evil zombie guy vs paperwork? I'd rather do zomies than tax forms. At least zombies once had a soul unlke the IRS."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Tomboys work for me. And they're kind of zombies, same rules apply. Aim for the brain, never trust that they're dead, and if you see something weird try not to ignore it." Ash seems pretty honest about the sorts of things they can do. "Except they're super strong and real quick. Oh, and they're not super-fond of daylight." Thinking about closing up the shop, Ash notes like the gentleman he is. "Want me to hit the road? Unless you're after a drinking buddy for the evening."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "I'll watch you drink," Mercy says. "I just never really acquired a taste for it and native american heritage and all that, it tends to hit me pretty hard. But it's a Saturday...and it's late and the garage can wait a while." She gets up and goes to put the closed sign on the door, then starts moving around the place turning off equipment.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash shrugs. "More for me." He decides rather simply. For some it might be a little weird to be drinking infront of someone who most definitely isn't, but for Ash, it's a very simple equation. "So that's what it is - You're one of the natives? I'd be lying if I said it wasn't driving me crazy trying to work that out." Rising from the chair, he looks around for something he can do. And since there isn't anything, he stands there a touch awkward.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Mom was a buckle bunny," Mercy replies as she finishes turning stuff off. She comes back into the office and starts shucking the coveralls, still talking while she pulls them off over her work boots, which takes a little doing. "Dad was Joe Old Coyote from Browning, Montana. Blackfeet Indian, or maybe Piegan, I never have worked it out. The were together about a month." She makes it into a history lesson, to keep it at arm's length, a story about someone else. "Old Coyote was killed in a car accident two days before Mom realized she was pregnant."

Ash Williams has posed:
    And there are absolutely no objections from Ash as Mercy begins to undress. "Huh. Well, that's kind of neat that you know. Lotta people have ancestry they don't know anything about. See, my dad was a deadbeat hardware store owner who quit giving a damn about me about when everything went to hell. Didn't want to believe what happened, so he lost a son and a daughter and I lost a dad."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     The coveralls come off after a fight over the boots, leaving her in jeans and a t-shirt. She straightens up, and tosses the coveralls into a bin to be washed. "You have a sister then," Mercy asks. "Family's complicated. But you have to keep them."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Nope." Ash shakes his head again. "Had a sister, Evil got her, and then she tried to kill me with a chainsaw. Turned it on her, and then my stupid hand kicked my ass and I had to take that off too... And that's why Dad disowned me. Hell, most of Elk Grove disowned me. And y'know how I told you my car was possessed a while back? That's how my dad died."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Oh," is all Mercy says initially. "That's ummm, pretty tough," she says. "And here I thought I had it tough. Just when you start to feel sorry for yourself, someone else comes along with something really bad. Not that it should be a competition. Didn't Monty Python do a skit about that, anyway?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Oh hell, if you wanna get competitive I've got sob stories for days." Ash chuckles softly, "But I don't play that game. That's a road that leads to drinking and getting high alone." Cough cough. Not that he's a fan of that. "See, everyone's got their own baggage to carry - Yours sucks for you, mine sucks for me, but we carry it and that's good enough."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "No, no need to get competitive," Mercy Thompson agrees. "So. Shop's closed up, work is done for the day. What do you want to do? Sitting her telling sob stories doesn't cut it, just for the record."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash laughs, "Yeah I figured that wasn't gonna be a good time for either of us. Well, I'm not from around here, but surely there's something fun to do after dark around here. Girl like you though, hard to tell what's gonna be fun." A rub of his five-o'clock shadow for luck. "Tell you what. I'll shoot two options, you tell me what appeals. There's one of those carnivals in Brooklyn that could be fun. Or we could find somewhere's got go-karts." Suggests the manchild.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy hmmmms. "Tough choice, they both sound like fun. I tihnk the carnival though. Go karts is just close enough to work that the carnival edges it out. Besides, I'm a sucker for funnel cakes." She grabs her purse from the desk drawer. "Ok then...."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash stretches for a moment while Mercy's back is turned, and then nods. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he gestures out the door. "Delta's just parked down the road. There's a bit of a mess inside still, but nothing too bad." And when they arrive at the beaten-up classic, he isn't lying. Inside the passenger footwell is a scattered collection of beer cans and food wrappers, and on the backseat, a shotgun and it's leather harness rest within grabbing range.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy climbs in, shoving the debris aside. Oddly, she relaxes a little with the mess. "shotgun? You might want to over that a little better here in the city so it's not stolen or the cops don't give you a hard time. Like arrested and thrown in jail hard time. Oh...I suppose you have your nifty SHIELD id for that though."

Ash Williams has posed:
    It's the office and drinking partner for Ash. There's probably more stuff in the glovebox. "My boomstick? She's always within arms reach when she can be. Solved more than a few deadite problems over the years." A chuckle follows, "Tell you what, you're a history buff. Imagine the looks on some medieval peasants when they saw that thing." The key is turned, and with a slightly delayed firing, the Delta rumbles into life.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Crossbow," Mercy says immediately. "But where's the bow? And then you'd be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake." She smirks at him, and listens to the rumble from te big engine. "Tune up time...It shouldn't delay like that."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Boomstick." Ash replies. "Mostly they were just scared, but it turns out there was a deadite problem and the old girl helped me solve it." A chuckle follows when she mentions a tune-up, and he shakes his head. "She's always done that, but she always fires up."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "IF you say so," Mercy says. "What'd you do before, you know. getting sent back in time and all that? Ran the hardware store with your Dad?" She gets comfortable in the car as Ash deals with the traffic. it helps if she doesn't look, so she closes her eyes.

Ash Williams has posed:
    It's probably best that way. Ash isn't a dangerous driver by any stretch of the imagination but he's not a careful one either. "S-Mart, hardware section. I wasn't a very good worker though. See, after I slept five hundred years to get back to the present," Yeah he isn't going to elaborate on that yet, "I got a job in some shithole town and tried to lay low. Couple of times evil found me, so I moved. And then, some, uh..." A pause, just long enough to swerve around a truck, "Some guy thought maybe it'd impress a girl if he read from the book of the dead that he may have brought back with him. And it made a /lot/ of problems, so I've been doing this fulltime since then."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "That's way too much excitement. Me, I fix volkswagens. And the occaisional Opel and Mercedes," Mercedes says. "I was going to teach history but the interview went poorly. The school board was more interested in a soft ball, track, football coach than a history teacher so I told them to shove their job. I flpped burgers for a bit, which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Well, maybe my worst enemy. And then more or less lucked into the garage."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "And a Delta." Ash reminds. "Well, kudos for sticking to your guns. You know what you wanna do and who you are. I'm not even sure now if I'm doing what I wanna be doing, but my options are kind of limited. Besides, I'm pretty good at it." A chuckle follows, and before long, they're out of the mildly depressing harlem and in the truly depressing Brooklyn, heading towards the temporary fences and flashing lights of a carnival.

    Or a homicide. Who knows.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy shrugs. "It's old enough I can work it. Newer olds or US cars, not a chance. I don't have the books or the computers. I hate computers," she says. "You should watch Mike Rowe. He's all about bringing your passion to the job instead of the usual preaching of the otehr way around." She leans forward to look, seeing the carnival. "Bet they have a shooting gallery."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "If they do, you're gonna walk home with a stuffed bear." Ash notes, pulling into a field that has been 'converted' into a parking area. Reaching behind him, he grabs a beer and opens it, before he even leaves the car. "I feel you on the computer thing. Can't work 'em, don't really want to." It's opened, and a healthy mouthful is taken as he gets out.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Maybe you will too" Mercy says with a quick grin. She gets out too. "Go home with a bear that is." She waits for him to come around the car and starts walking with him toward the carnival. "My foster father taught me to shoot, and I practice pretty regularly."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Guess we'll have to make a competition of it then. Should warn you though, I've been hunting pretty much as long as I've been walking. Could probably perform surgery with my shotgun if I had to." Ash suggests, walking in pace with Mercy. As with most carnivals, it's free to enter and pay as you go, which means they're free to look around while they find some fun. "Alright, tomboy or not, you've gotta love cotton candy, right?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy grins at the question. "Silly question - everyone - loves cotton candy. And candy apples and funnel cakes." She walks with him, moving a little closer with the crowding of the carnival. "I should come here more. It's not far..."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "There's always one somewhere." Ash notes, as he finds one of the carts that's just parked somewhere you're bound to walk into if you're not looking. A quick fumble for his wallet, as he nods at Mercy. "Cotton candy for the lady. We'll find some funnel cakes on the way back out of here."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Thanks," Mercy says, accepting the spun sugar on a stick from the vendor. "And thank you," she tells Ash. "First flowers, now cotton candy... is this a -date-?" She sounds amused by the question. She spots something ahead and veers a bit right, heading for where a gout of fire blasts into the air.

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Eh." Ash answers with a sound rather than an answer. "Flowers were being nice, and then here's because I wanted to do stuff. You want to call it a date, it's on you." He explains, noticing that she's heading towards something that's got fire involved. Which is either great or a terrible idea.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    It's a firebreather doing his act, swalling fire and blowing out gouts of flame. There's a hat with some coins in it...a sideshow busker performing for what people throw. For a short time the act is pretty typical sideshow fare, then the guy brings out a pair of poi balls, and lights them with a blast of breathed fire, and starts spinning them in a mixed poi and kung fu act. "Ooooh," Mercy oohs. "Cool." Her hands start to twitch like she's mimicing spinning the balls of fire.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Firebreather. Cool. Ash digs around for a couple of coins, and tosses them into the hat almost reflexively. And then, it goes from being mildly cool, to being much cooler - But not enough to keep him from checking in on his date(?), noting what she's doing. "Huh. That's pretty neat."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy digs into her purse and pulls out a five and tosses it in the hat. "THat is cool. I think I'm going to have to learn how to do that. I bet that grew out of martial arts...." she looks thoughtful. "I'll have to ask sensei ..." She looks over at Ash now that the act is done. "Where now?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Sensei? I never really spent much time with martial arts. Most of the stuff that I've dealt with hasn't either." Which is a blessing in and of itself really. Ash looks around for a bit, and finally finds what passes for a shooting range here. A pair of worn pellet guns, and a lot of dented metal targets - And within the tent, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of bizarre plush animals.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Ah-hah," Mercy says as they find the shooting gallery. "THis looks...." she mmms at the state of the pellet guns. "Like it's shoot out time." She digs out another 5 and lays it on the bench. "There's for me." She picks up the nearest pellet gun and raises it up to an offhand shooting position. then lowers it and tries again, shifting around a little. "Well."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash finds a five of his own and places it on the bench, before examining the gun for a brief second. The sights are out, a little, and the barrel has seen better days, but it'll do. A tray of pellets are put down infront of each of them, ten apiece, while the rules are explained. A point per standing figure, two for the ducks, and three for each of the moving targets further back. And even as Ash loads his, he offers a moment of grace. "Ladies first."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "Old fashioned manners are still there. I like it." Mercy lifts the gun to her shoulder, good form for off hand. She settles in and looks down teh sights, breathe in, breathe out..... Pfft. Repeat, repeat repeat. THen she shifts to the moving targets. Breathe in, breathe out....squeeze the trigger. Repeat.... She lowers the pellet gun. "Well....that'll do." Five of the standing figures down, and three of the ducks

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash watches, and waits, and then offers an encouraging. "Not bad, not bad at all. Especially for these things." Raising his rifle to shoulder, he shoots and loads in quick succession. The first shot barely knocks down a figure, the second cleanly so. And then two ducks follow. And then six of the moving targets, all with precision born from decades of practice. Maybe he is SHIELD material after all. The owner of the stall chuckles to himself, "Hot damn. That's eleven for the lady, twenty four for the gentleman." The long, curved stick of his trade is produced, and pokes some of the merchandise in the rafters. "So the lady gets to pick any of the mid-sized plushies, and the gentleman gets his choice."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy hmmms looking up at the plush animals. "That one," she points at an almost Snoopy dog. "Thanks." She receives the stuffed Snoopy and waits to see what Ash picks." She seems pleased with herself however.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Snoopy? Well. That's cute. As for Ash, he gestures at a rather inconveniently sized playpus - Nearly half the height of the man, he captures it from the hook and then nods to Mercy. "He's a gift for ya." Yup. Giant stuffed platypus gifts for all. And now that they've got something that they need to carry around, of course he's going to suggest, "We should find some of those rides. Are you a thriller-girl or something a little calmer?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy hands over the Snoopy and accepts the platypus. "Just what every girl needs, a platypus," she says. "I think I'll name him Bruce." She grins at Ash. "Oh, roller coasters, definitely. Thrills. Calm rides are a waste of time."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Ah. Thanks. I'll have to find a good place for old Snoopy. Somewhere he ain't gonna get into trouble, but still can be a part of things." For now, that means holding onto the plush doll, as he chuckles. "Hey, you didn't look like the giant-bear type so I thought he's weird enough to love. Alrighty, uh... There's a Vortex around here I think." Not recommended for the elderly. But who really writes those things anway. A glance, and then he points it out. Already in motion, the ride swings in a fast, arc through a full 270', while rotating. A recipe for return-to-sender carnival food.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "THe Vortex, huh," Mercy says, spotting it. "Well...hope you have a strong stomach." She heads that way. "I've got a friend who flies. He claims to hate it but... He always gets this little grin and then starts into aerobatics."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Please. I haven't thrown up longer'n you've been alive." Ash reinforces the point by slapping his own chest with his free hand, his mechanical one seeming to do a good job of keeping a firm hold on a plush snoopy as they make their way towards the ticket stall. There's a slight double take at the ticket price, but Ash pays it anyway - "Two adults, one platypus." A glance back at Mercy when the operator seems confused. "Yeah. Aquatic thing. Beak. Lays eggs. There's a stuffed one coming with us."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "PRetty sure platypus rides for free," Mercy says, burying a brief smirk. "Wow, bet they don't get a lot of repeat custoemrs." She meanders through the line with him. "How old are you anyway? And how old do you think I am?" She sounds curious, no indication of a trap in her tone."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Me? Shit. Uh, six hundred maybe?" Ash scratches his head as they step up towards the platform, along with anyone else who is brave enough to join them. "Well that ain't really true. Uh, I was what, twenty when I went back several hundred years... And then there was a long-ass sleep, and then I went back again. Y'know, I never really worked it out. Let's call it fourty something and let an old man keep his pride." A chuckle, and a glance at Mercy. "You're a late twenties, maybe. Hot, and you're gonna age smoking. Maybe even as good as me."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    Mercy laughs. "Thirty one," she says. "And age well..." she sounds amused, "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, most girls being terrified of getting old." The coaster clanks into place and the last group of riders get out. More clanking and the gates open letting in the next batch of riders. Mercy climbs in and works out a compromise with the laws of physics as applied to volume, mass, and platypus. "So forty years awake and kicking...I'm guessing there's some mileage there too."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Sounds like a hell of a problem for most girls. Can't say there's much better than aging well. I mean, some girls, they're hot for all of five years, and then they're just weird lookin'. But I get what you're saying, sometimes you just wanna stay at your 'prime' forever." And a heavy bar descends upon him, locking the older gentleman in place. "Hey, uh, I haven't had anyone look at my pumper since I stuck a knife in it a while back, so if this don't go well for me I'm gonna need you to tell someone." And with a clunk, the ride begins to move. Slowly, swaying back and forth.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     MErcy laughs and shakes her head. "Seriously? You're going to have a heart attack? " She shakes her head, still chuckling. "I'll find an AED somewhere and shock you back to life,' she promises. The car begins to clank up the first hill. "Why are we doing this again/'

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Ain't have one before, but just saying... Y'know. Stuck a knife into it. Just don't be in too much of a hurry to tell me if you save my life. Guys gotta have pride." The car inches up, and his eyes are drawn to the chain that disappears just at the top of the hill - At which point the ride actually begins. "Long as you don't scream too loud."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy shakes her head, "I won't...." then the car drops off the first hill and she shrieks, not quite ready for it. Then she starts laughing as the car rattles and juerks through the bottom of the hill and the first turn. She puts her hands up in approved roller coaster fashion now that she's with the ride.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash has a far more appropriate and masculine reaction. "Oh crap." He manages before the car drops out, and leaves his stomach somewhere near the top of the hill. The rapid pick up in velocity, and then the savage first turn that ensures his gut won't be catching up with him any time soon has him adopting the less acceptable but still traditional grip upon the metal bars instead.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     The car slams through the corkscrew, and up a low hill slowing, then down another steep drop, getting speed back up for the final few turns.

Ash Williams has posed:
    And the final few turns are no less unkind, either. A whirlwind of speed and mechanical noise drives out all attempts to say anything witty, charming or vulgar, and then within a minute of starting, the ride slows violently, throwing most passengers against their metal bars, before clunking towards the station.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy's laughing hard as the coaster rolls to a start. "That was a blast," she says. "Thanks." She climbs out when the bar unlocks with a clack and holds out a hand to Ash to help the old man out of the car. "That was blast," she says again. "I think I'm done with rides for a while though." She looks at her watch and sighs, "And should prbably get back home for that matter. I need to get up in the morning and open the shop."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash is a proud old man. That is to say, that he moves a little to check whether he can get up unassisted before he decides to take the hand, but he laughs about it so it looks like it's a joke and not a sign that the roller coaster has done something awful to his spine. "Don't forget the duck." Or platypus. Whatever it is. "Well, that's a damn shame. Ain't gonna lie, it was nice to get out and have some fun for a while. Forget about the weird crap that's been going down." A chuckle, and he begins to lead the way towards the parking lot instead.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
    "I had fun too," Mercy says, tucking the platypus under one arm. "Be happy to check out other carnivals sometime." She starts walking slowly back toward the parking lot with him. She slows, though as they near the car and starts looking around. "Hear that?" She frowns, "I don't think we're quite done."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash's vicelike mechanical grip is still holding Snoopy, as they make their way back to the Delta - And the dimly lit carpark holds something of a suprise for Ash Williams. Because once the Delta draws into view, there's a man, past middle aged, wearing an easily identifiable blue shirt and brown slacks, with his hands upon his knees. One hand shows clear signs of decay, rotted away by time. "'Bout time you showed up, Ashy Slashy. And the hot girl from the car shop, too." A low whistle, as he gets to his feet, standing upon the hood. "Don't know why you'd be on a date with this old cripple though. You sure you don't want to get out of here with me, head somewhere quiet and see where the night takes us?"

    Snoopy is nearly beheaded by the change in grip, and Ash holds his left arm out infront of Mercy, creating a physical barrier to keep her from walking once he's stopped. He says nothing yet. Partially because he's unarmed.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy bounces off Ash's arm. "Love your twin," she mutters to him. "Creepy and stinky." She moves a little aside, creating some space for both herself and Ash. "Kill it with fire works in the movies," she says. "How about bullets, do those work on it?"

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Last time I did that, he was just a burned skeleton. Raised an army of darkness, had to get Arthur to help me kill 'em all." Ash speaks low, under his breath, even as his would-be simulacrum steps off the hood of the car. "Bullets slow 'em down, unless you've got some massive stopping power and can blow his head off." Reaching down for his boot, he exposes the Kandarian Dagger again, and takes it into his left hand, still keeping snoopy safe as he exposes the ritual dagger to his clone. "This though... This'll hurt like hell. Haven't used it on him before either."

    Ash's clone chuckles softly as he spies the dagger. "Ooh, you've started carrying that spooky knife around with you just in case, huh? Well... Maybe you're just a little bit too hard to kill right now. Wonder if your friend is as... Resilient."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "Have to catch me first creepy," Mercedes says. "I've mopped the floor with scarier monsters than you." She shifts her weight just a little, balanced, ready to move. "I can keep him busy while you carve him into cutlets," Mercy suggests to Ash.

Ash Williams has posed:
    "I dunno. Once you go deadite..." Fake Ash dashes forward, faster than any human has any right to - And the Real Ash rather forcefully uses his outstretched arm to hook Mercy around to the side. The rush of wind a telltale sign of how close things came, and then the hideous crack of flesh meeting stone and metal. The lights flicker, revealing the clone of the epic-chinned Ash clutching a handful of stone and steel, grip tightening as it's reduced to dust. The lamp-post that he's struck sparks, and flickers again, and then the only light is the dim moon.
    "Get in the Delta." An Ash advises. "I'm gonna need my boomstick."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     When things start moving, Mercy moves too, just as fast. She moves with Ash's sweep and uses the motion to propel herself twoard the Delta and its back seat and the shotgun there. She dives for the gun, dragging itout while the evil clone is playing with lamp posts.

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash does what any reasonable human would do if his clone just ripped through steel and stone infront of him. Once he's sure Mercy is safe, he charges at his clone with the knife - Ready to stab - And in a blink of an eye, his clone is left standing on one foot, his other raised in a firm planted kick, and Ash is tumbling past the front quarter of the Delta, still holding the knife /and/ Snoopy as he regains his footing beside the car. There's the sound of a heavily drawn breath, and a bootprint on his blue shirt. "Hey, you! Or, me!" He draws on the confusion for a moment. "I dunno how many times I've gotta kill you before you get the message, but maybe fifth time's the charm." Mist begins to roll in from the direction of the carnival. A condensed cloud, it moves and writhes as if it's alive.
    And that's not good either. Ash glances towards the car. Mercy inside. Good. Boomstick? Snoopy is tossed into the vehicle, and he holds his metal hand out.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy's been waiting for that cue and tosses the shotgun to Ash. No way is she staying forted up though...static targets are easy ones. she's out the other side of the car, a lug wrenh grabbed from the debris in the back in her hand. A familiar, comfortable feel for a mechanic. The mist gets frowned at, but only that. It's not natural, clearly, but what do you do about fog?

Ash Williams has posed:
    "C'mon, me. Don't you ever miss having me around?" The clone taunts, lowering it's boot and stepping towards the Delta instead. Ash catches the shotgun, and it's held in his outstretched hand as he seems to listen. "Imagine if you had me back again. There's not a girl alive who could resist ya. You'd be stealing all their--" It leaps again - But rather than for Ash, it's straight at Mercy again, rotted hand outstretched, claws at the end of it's fingers as it propels itself towards her. A foot away from striking, the figure is thrown roughly to the side, the explosive burst from a shotgun slamming into it's head and throwing it off course. Evil Ash tumbles and rolls a few dozen feet away, sans about half of his head, and Mercy... Well, she might need to have a shower after that. "Hearts. Funny guy." Ash mutters, cracking the shotgun open and discarding the spent shells even as he eyes the fog that seems to be moving towards them. Whispers in the darkness, as he reloads, and then looks at Mercy.
    "Why'd you get out of the car? Get in the car." The shotgun placed on the dashboard as he gets in, still watching it. "You don't wanna be too close to that. Me neither." A turn of the key, and the car grumbles into life as always.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy was watching and when evil Ash leaps her way, she's moving away. The splash still sprays her with ... ewww. She launches herself back at the car and rolls in even as Ash is getting in tossing his shotgun on the dash. "It's a little hard to dodge inside of here," she says, answering his question. She's not listening to the whispers, on purpose, nothign good ever comes from listening to mists blown up out of nowhere. "You know, I think I've had enough of the carnival for one day. THey'll let anyone in there."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "You're tellin' me." Ash mutters, "Figures I can't even have a good time without that old thing turning up." The gas is pressed with the kind of vigour that shows that he /really/ doesn't want to be around the mist - It's mor ethan the general frustration and ill will he bears his clone - And the Delta screeches in a tight turn before it speeds out of the parking lot. And even once they've put a lot of distance between the carnival and themselves, there's still an occasional glance in the rear view mirror, before Ash clears his throat. "Uh, sorry about that. It uh, happens to me a lot. Not always a /me/ but some kind of deadite likes to ruin my day."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     Mercy smiles crookedly. "If you summoned it well then I'd have to be mad, the mist, the evil twin. I'm pretty sure you didn't so apology accepted and all that. I bet it makes going out pretty tough." Then there's a real grin. "It wasn't a boring date, I gootta give you credit for that."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Depends what you mean by summoned it. See, this creepy mist and deadite stuff? It's a Pandora's box I've been trying to close for nearly a thousand years." Ash chuckles bitterly, his fingers briefly clenching on the steering wheel as they make their way back towards Harlem. "Not the way I would've thought about splattering all over you." He adds by way of a joke, and then adds. "Sorry. Couldn't let that one go."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     The look Mercy gives Ash could strip paint from the Delta. "Don't quit your day job." She turns to look out the back window, studying for mist and evil twins, and anything else she can see. After a little study she relaxes and looks forward. "I think we lost them." She waves fingers at a cross street. "Turn right, three blocks another right, and there's the garage."

Ash Williams has posed:
    Ash finds that reaction more amusing than he'd admit out loud. "Hey, in defense of that joke, I ain't doing too well at the day job either." Point taken, the day job just attacked him at night again. He turns, and offers some kind of reassurance. "Wouldn't worry about that though. It can't get into buildings too easily, and it's too weak to go far right now. Might be an immortal demon, but if you keep it hungry, it's just a pain in the ass and not a /problem/."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "And what is it," Mercy asks. "A demon? Those're bad news i think we can agree. I'm not worried about it getting into the apartment, you have to invite evil in."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "That's vampires." Ash offers the correction as he pulls up outside the garage, "Demons are weird. Most of 'em are killable, at least kind of, but this one is different. Older. If what the book says is true, best you can do is put it back to sleep... There's just too much damn food around for that to work." A shake of his head. "Sounds like my problem. This is your stop though. And thanks for the date. I had a good time. Even when I had to blow bad-me's head off."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
     "vampires are evil," Mercy agrees. She's looking outside, and rolls the window down and sniffing a bit as they drive up toward the garage. When the car stops she stops, and sits in the car a second. "You'll probably think I'm really wierd but I had a good time, wierdness and all." She grabs the platypus out of the back seat. Ash gets a big smile. "Bring the Delta back if you ever need any work." She winks, "Leave the evil twin a couple states away though.I'll have to charge extra for him."

Ash Williams has posed:
    "Hey, weird is what I do." Ash states. Probably the most honest sentence he's said. "I had a good time too. And I'm sure the old girl is gonna need a tune-up sooner or later, and I don't mind having a hand when I work on her. And she's gonna get her fair share of battle scars in Mexico in a few weeks." Since the veteran seems to have a mission that needs tending to. "And uh, if you do see Evil Me again, if you peg him enough times in the head he goes down. That fog though...It's nasty. Stay away from it." A final warning, before he offers a wave, and departs.