Owner	Pose
Mercy Thompson	Mercy's working on a Mercedes, an older 300. "Mercedes working on a Mercedes," Jimmy quips as he walks in. Bang. "Ow," Mercy rubs her head after whacking it on the hood of the car when she jumps after Jimmy walks in. It's late morning and the shop has several cars stacked up outside waiting to be worked on. Jimmy's car is still in the garage. "Don't sneak up on me like that. Your car's ready." She studies him. "You in some sort of trouble Jimmy? There was a really...scary guy here looking for you a couple days ago."
Bullseye	Jimmy's eyes widen upon hearing Mercy's mention of someone looking for him. Jimmy wasn't in trouble, per se, but he knew -- if he was found -- he was going to be. "Looking for me? Why would anybody be looking for me?" There's a slight waver in his voice, but he attempts to keep things cool. For now. "Did you, uh, say that I was here?" he asks, with a bit of a stammer, "Mention where I was going?"
Mercy Thompson	"Can't tell what I don't know," Mercy says. She wipes her hands with a rag, and studies the young asian man. "Is it anything I can help with? I fixed the car...it's all set, but..." she shrugs, uncertain. She looks around and drifts toward her toolbox a couple steps. "Anything?"
Bullseye	Jimmy blinks, "Right. Of course you don't know where I'm going," he replies with a snicker. "Stupid." He licks his lips and narrows his eyes -- after all, Mercy's just trying to help. But Jimmy wasn't exactly in the best position for someone who may (or may not) be on the run. Trust was something he knew he couldn't just extend to anyone, but this was Mercy. He buries his face in his hands for a moment before blowing out a hard breath.     "I... I think I may have screwed up. And I need this car to be working because the truth is... I don't know where I'm going to be, tomorrow." He smiles faintly, walking over towards his ride and leaning up against the driver's side door.
Mercy Thompson	"The car works," Mercy says, sounding a little offended. "It's Five hundred forty seven," she adds. "Parts and labor...pay cash and disappear. I can't tell what I don't know." She sighs and pushes a few stray strands of hair out of her face. "If there's antyhing else, you can call. I'll do what I can." Which isn't much she doesn't say.
Bullseye	"Cash?" Jimmy asks, looking visibly uncomfortable. "Um, okay, I think I can figure that out. Do you know where the nearest ATM is? I'm probably gonna have to--"     VROOM! It's the familiar sound of a motorcycle -- specifically one pulling into the garage. On the Harley is someone clad in all black, including his black helmet. He removes it to reveal a masked visage, emblazoned with a white target right in the middle of his forehead. A devilish smile creeps along the man's face as he lets out a small chortle at both Jimmy and Mercy.      "Jimmy fuckin' Yang," he says in a menacing, gravelly voice, "You got some people who want a word with you."
Mercy Thompson	"This ones on the house," Mercy tells Jimmy. "Get out. Now." She turns to Bullseye. "You've got no businss for the shop...bike runs fine. Get out or it's trespassing." She positions herself as best she can between Jimmy and Bullseye.
Bullseye	Bullseye shoots a wide-eyed grin at Mercy, casually tossing his helmet to the ground. "Oh, shit!" he exclaims, "It's you!" He snickers to himself, glancing back at the bike, "She's runnin' like a dream, yeah -- thanks for that. But we're kind of in a pickle, here, sweetheart. You see, I didn't interrupt you while you were workin', right? So, I'm politely asking that you reciprocate." He points behind her towards Jimmy, but keeps his dead, piercing-blue eyes fixed on Mercy, "Do you and your lil' shop here a favor, and step aside, or shit's gonna get real, real bad."     He holds up both hands to show he's got nothing up his sleeves, and feigning surprise, quickly flicks his right hand forward, revealing a set of three cards -- all sevens. "You feelin' lucky? 'Cause I sure as fuck do."
Mercy Thompson	"Trespassing it is," Mercy growls. "You didn't ask if you could borrow the shop. You always ask before borrowing a mechanic's tools." She doesn't move from in front of JImmy. "Get in the car Jimmy," she orders, the tone she almost never uses but that has even gotten an alpha werewolf to do what she says now and then.
Johnny Blaze	As Bullseye made his threats and it seemed to be a mexican standoff between Mercy, Jimmy, and Bullseye, Another motorcycle sounded off behind Bullseye, Johnny's eyes locked onto the assassin who's come to do his job. "There a problem here?" Johnny dismounts his motorcycle and starts walking towards Bullseye, giving a glance to Mercy that pretty much says 'get the hell out of dodge'. "Threaten other people, I don't care. Threaten her and her hard-earned garage? Now we have a problem." Johnny's eyes seem to reflect the dance of Hellfire. dangerous and deadly. Here comes the tie-breaker.
Bullseye	"Loverboy, too?!" Bullseye exclaims with a guffaw, turning to Johnny. "Aw, kids -- this is the gift that keeps on giving." He slowly motions down towards his belt, his hand hovering over the handle of one of his throwing knives.     "Believe it or not? I'm not much of a talker, so you're lucky I'm even considering this." He narrows his eyes and starts to peer around the garage, gauging distance, the general geometry of the room, and any other details as he continues. "But I'm going to give you idiots 'til the count of three, and if that slant-eyed bastard ain't any closer to me by then? Mark my words, he's a fuckin' dead man." He tightens his grip on the playing cards in his right hand. "Do. You. Understand?"
Mercy Thompson	Mercy's eyes narrow when Bullseye laughs. She manages not to curl her lip in a snarl when the threat is made and that brings her to raise the heavy revolver that she palmed from the hide box on her tool box earlier. The smith and wesson 626 in is a full size revolver. She doesn't say anything, doesn't pull the trigger, but has it in a proper gunfighter's grip, left hand wrapped around right, tight. She thumbs back the hammer, click click click as the cylinder rotates.
Johnny Blaze	Johnny looks at Bullseye and without a second thought, pulls out his sawed off shotgun. At this close range, it's unlikely he'll miss unless Bullseye's dodging skill is beyond excellent. "You trheaten her. You threaten my friend Jimmy there. If you want to leave here alive, seems you're just gonna have to give up this particular round of work. Johnny's eyes look like dancing flames, as if the Rider was about to lunge forth and exact vengeance for every innocent life that Bullseye has taken. "You're move, reindeer games."
Bullseye	Bullseye grins an impossibly toothy grin, showing off some of the gaps in his grill.     "You fucking morons," he says, amused and thoroughly pleased with Mercy's AND Johnny's course of action here. Finally, something interesting. He plays it cool, though, seeing the eagerness in both their trigger fingers, and slowly makes his way towards back his motorcycle with his hands up in the air. "There's one thing you still don't seem to understand. You see -- even aiming right at me? You STILL might miss."     Still clutching the three playing cards in his right hand, he snickers.     "I won't."     And with that, he whips his arm forward like a lightning bolt, launching the cards out of his hand. The strange thing, though? These cards, thrown with enough skill and velocity that they'll penetrate like daggers -- they're curving in flight... and bending right towards Jimmy's neck.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy pulls the trigger. Front sight, press, front sight press, front sight, press, riding the recoil down and bringing the sights back on target, Bullseye's chest. The sights come up to the convenient bullseye on his forehead. Front sight.... The gun roars and bucks as she fires five of the six rounds which roar out in less than a second.
Johnny Blaze	Johnny Blaze watched Bullseye as he threatens them, eventually though, as he sees Bullseye whip his arm? He fires his shotgun aimed right for just a little forward from his hand, as if he's attmepting to blast those cards out of the sky, but one of them might still get through. "Jim! RUN!" That is, if he even can. THe shot could alter the trajection of the cards for better or for worse. But now he's marching towards Bullseye, ready for a fight that Bullseye won't forget. "Alright, you moronic poindexter, time to make you pay for your sins."
Bullseye	The sound of gunfire booms throughout the garage, as Bullseye's brain begins to do its work. He knows that Johnny's well-timed shotgun blast could only get two of the cards out of the air, at best. He knows the typical firing rate of a Smith & Wesson, 626. He takes into account the level of training Mercy may or may not have. He gauges distance from the end of her barrel to himself, the trajectory of each potential shot, and where each bullet will probably be, should she miss. And all of this, he calculates and reacts to in a split-second. But even then... he takes a pair of shots to his chest.     "FUCK!" he shouts, staggering backwards, before taking cover and crouching behind a pair of red, metal cabinets. If it wasn't for his armor, he'd surely be a dead man, a notion that instantly puts an almost masochistic smile on his face. Palming the knife from before in his left hand, he reaches for a shuriken from his belt with his right, and pops up from his cover -- launching the shuriken at Johnny and the knife at Mercy.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy Thompson is moving...faster than a human woman should be able. Even so, the knife slams into her shoulder, painful but not life threatening. She tackles Jimmy, leaving Bullseye to Johnny. "eeeeyaahhhhh!" very painful, that knife in the shoulder.
Johnny Blaze	Johnny saw that Mercy was injured by that knife throw. Yep....it's time for the devil to come out. Hurt Johnny's heart? Vengeance is coming. Tossing the shotgun to the ground, Johnny's flesh melts away like paper to the flame, muscle and hair soon follows suit until only a bare skull remains, wreathed in Hellfire. "Now you burn!" and moves to try to grab Bullseye by the throat, the shuriken literally bouncing off of his body despite being extremely sharp. Demon.
Bullseye	Huh. This is... not exactly what he expected to be facing, tonight, but Bullseye was convinced that HE was the undisputed avatar of death -- not some flaming, leather-clad edgelord trying to move in on the fear game. Not one to be intimidated, Bullseye swipes at Ghost Rider's incoming throat-grab and just barely manages parry it away. He then quickly backsteps a bit and looks over his surroundings. This is a garage, right? Right. He sees what he's looking for, and picks up a wrench laying on top of the cabin. Is that a sprinkler up there? Time to find out, he decides, hurling the wrench up with pinpoint accuracy.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy Thompson thuds into Jimmy, and drags the bleeding asian out of the line of battle, nearly blacking out as she pulls, and moves her injured shoulder. She braces with her good arm, and pulls again one handed. she's panting with pain by the time she gets Jimmy behind the toolbox. She takes a moment to try and clear her vision before working on Jimmy, trying to stop the bleeding.
Johnny Blaze	Bullseye managed to escape the Rider's grasp...but Bullseye doesn't know what the Ghost Rider is, does he? When he throws the wrench to smack agains the sprinkler? It's like the water hits the Ghost Rider..but it has no chance at all in actually dousing the flames. The Rider just growls an ungodly growl as he tries to kick Bullseye against the wall! Bullseye was fast...but the Ghost Rider was fast too. He really did pick a bad day to pick a fight.
Bullseye	The thunderous kick from the Rider sends a shock up and down Bullseye's body as the masked assassin goes flying across the room, slamming into a huge rack of equipment along the rear wall and sending tools falling in a cacophany of metal clangs. With the water spraying down to seemingly no effect, Bullseye -- clutching what definitely feels like a pair of broken ribs -- grits his teeth, trying to gain his bearings.     He eyes Mercy off to his right, attempting to control Jimmy's bleeding and realizes his window is closing -- no doubt about it, he's got to secure the kill. "Alright, kids," he snarls, grabbing a small wrench off the floor. "You want magic? WATCH THIS PRICK DISAPPEAR!" He lashes out and catapults the wrench -- aimed right at Jimmy's right eye.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy looks up when Bullseye snarls. She's still not moving well but even so, she lunges to intercept the wrench. Her injured arm betrays her though, collapsing when she puts her weight on it in the lunge. She falls across Jimmy, fingers just short of deflecting the wrench.
Johnny Blaze	The Ghost Rider watches as Bullsey throws that wrench. Lethal Precision. 9 times out of 10, Jimmy is dead. If not, he's extremely lucky. But....Bullseye isn't anywhere near to being out of the woods yet. He reaches down and he picks Bullseye up, with full force, trying to toss him straight out of the Garage and into a car. Unless Bullseye manages to get out of hte way first. But...there was no doubt he had a hunter on his tail now. No matter where he went, there would always be the Devil looking over his shoulder.
Bullseye	"I didn't m-m-mean to, Mercedes," a bleeding Bobby frantically stammers, clutching at Mercy's wrist. "I didn't think they'd come for me, h-here. I'm so sorry, I'm so sor--"     *CLANG!*     And then there was nothing. The wrench, hurled by Bullseye, was thrown with such force, it practically pinned Bobby's head to the tool box it was resting against. Bobby's mouth drops open. He says nothing. And he won't say anything, ever again.     "Bullseye," the assassin says under his breath, slightly irritated with how much work this simple hit ended up becoming. He blows out a hard breath, taking in the moment, before he's suddenly clutched by the shoulders by the Rider. The strength in his grip is impossible to describe, only overshadowed by the sheer ferocity in which the mercenary is thrown out of the garage and into a parked sedan across the street.     A normal man's body would've shattered upon impact. A mercenary with an adamantium-laced skeleton, on the other hand? That's a different story.
Mercy Thompson	Mercy's vision tunnels out and she stays where she is, unconcious, passed out from the pain of the wound and the stress she inflicted on the injury.
Johnny Blaze	After Ghost Rider chucked Bullseye straight out of the garage and smashing into a car that almost sent that car on it's side. Instead it just wobbled it quite hard. Adamantium laced skeleton or not, Even Ghost Rider knows that Bullseye could still bleed way out from his injuries. Regardless, he turns his head back to Mercy, and the Ghost Rider reverts into Johnny Blaze. Flesh and muscle grows back over bare bone, Hellfire finally being doused and eventually? it looks as if Johnny Blaze never transformed at all. Running over to Mercy, he checks both her and Jimmy. the latter was very dead, while the former just passed out from the trauma and her the knife in her shoulder. He turns around to see if Bullseye is still there.
Bullseye	Fortunately for Bullseye -- he wasn't. Thank goodness for the plates of armor in his suit. Thank goodness for his adamantium-laced bones. But most of all? Thank goodness for the fact that for every dumb twat in this world, there was an even dumber twat stupid enough to have fallen in love with them. This, he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And in the moment Johnny goes to check on Mercy, Bullseye knew the time to leave -- no matter how broken he might be -- was right. Fucking. Now.     He might have gotten his kill. He'll probably even get that money transfer by the end of the afternoon. But what he didn't count on getting was the ire of a demon. And THAT -- unlike cold, hard cash -- can last forever.