Turmoil (Open)

Mouse was surrounded in peaceful solitude.  At lease he was until the door swung open.  He turned slightly to the sound and grunted.  The clickety clack of fine heels did'nt belong here.  There was oil stains and blood on the floor.  Mouse didn't even remember the damage he had caused. He somewhat had control of his abilities, but emotional stress did a lot to make a guy loose control.  Sometimes you just wanted to hit something.  The harder the better.  His hand should have been sliced into ribbons through all the twisted metal.  He was lucky to only have a few scraps and a couple of cuts.

A smirk pulled at the tight corners of his hairy mouth as she quipped about the customer service.  Mouse was standing there ringing his hands with a dirty rag.  There was a dark brown color to his skin.  Black oil and red blood mixed and stained his hairy wrists.  He never looked up from his hand cleaning.  He gave up and figured it was a moot point.  That shit just wasn't coming out.  He tossed the rag and sighed as he finally turned to Carson's daughter.  "I think I figured out the problem with that one.  Needs sparkplugs."  The humor was dry.  There was no hint of a smile to his voice, but there was a smile there living on his lips.  He was pleased with his smart ass response.  

The smile died on his lips when she feigned not knowing his name.  He wasn't sure if she was playing a game, but he didn't have time for games.  If she was really here on Carson's orders she should know that Carson didn't play with his money.  Family or not, her ass was already in the hotseat.  She had to impress or Daddy's little girl would quickly become Daddy's little problem.  "Yeah, Mouse." The words spilled out of his lips with the cool vibes of a surfer bro with no problems at all.  His hair was long and dirty blonde, pulled back in a man bun.  His beard was unruly and wild.  It was hard to tell if he was frowning or smiling beneath all that bushy beard.  His tone of voice didn't help much either.  


Mouse walked past her.  He walked over to the door and pulled it closed.  A little privacy never hurt no one.  He looked at her for a moment before he spoke.  Really he was just taking her in.  She was young, hungry, bold as fuck and he could respect that.  He really hadn't had much time to really access her.  She could be just like her father.  A ruthless business man with a mind for making money.  That was Mouse's song.    It was the only tune he danced too.

 Johnny and Lulu were top of the table for the moment, but Carson was the real head of this family and Mouse always believed that no one could run this club like Carson.  Sure, Johnny loved Carson and he wasn't betraying him in anyway.  He was actually trying to make Carson proud in his absence, but a young cocky brash guy who has too much money and a woman who likes to spend it.  Who's to say that Johnny never dipped into the honey pot and took money that belonged to the club to pay for one of Lulu's expnsive tastes?  Hell the girl owned half the town.  She owned bars and nightclubs and that was out of Johnny's pay bracket.

 Mosue didn't say shit.  He kept his nose down and earned.  Mouse didn't have a girl on his arm to shower in gifts and fancy things.  He had his share of the ladies, but they were employees.  He would bed the women he wanted to bed and picked and chose form his cast of pornstars who he wanted to have flings with.  His girls always said yes.  It was a chance for them to make it with the boss and get another lead role in another project.  Money talks to everyone.  It's the universal language.  That's the reason Mouse was standing here listening now. 

The silence was still hanging in the air.  Wondering when it was going to come crashing down like a house of cards. Mouse rubbed his beard as he let go of the door handle that led to the bar.  He walked over and flipped the shop door to say closed and locked the customer entrance.  After that he walked past Bastina again and met the chains in the middle of the room.  Pulling on them, the garage door began to lower.  Before he could lower it more than a few pulls of the chain a guy ducked under the door.  "Excuse me!  You said you'd have my car ready by......"  He stoppped mid sentence as he saw the car.  It was mangled beyond repair.  The hood was caved in and so was the engine.  Mouse not only punched straight down through the engine block but he bent the engine itself.

"What the hell!?"  The man cried.  Mouse turned to him with a stern look.  He wasn't in the mood for this.  Mouse was wearing a pair of tight jeans and black boots.  There was oil and blood smeared all over his great shirt.  There was a patch on the chest with his name stiched into it.  It read Hank.  Mouse's eyes were sunken in with purple bags under them.  He looked like a man who hadn't slept and had no patience.  Really he hadn't.  These last couple of days had him stressing the fuck out over his financial future.  "You're going to fucking pay for my car!" The man screamed.  

Mouse's blood was boiling.  He could feel his fists balling up.  His nails digging into the palms of his hand.  He lumbered over to the man with large looming, threatening steps.  This was going to end very badly.  This was not the day to piss him off.  Mouse had his temper under control most of the time.  He got in the man's face and the yelling stopped.  It was a small skinny man with coke bottle glasses.  He had a striped dress shirt and a polka dot tie.  There was even a clip on his belt for his cell phone.  

Mouse could break this man in half, but suddenly..... His face drained of all emotion in the quiet garage.  As if all his energy just slipped away.  "I'm sorry about your car sir.  How can i make this better for you?  I know... How about a night of free dances with one of our girls?" Mouse motioned through the window to the bartender.  She was a part time bar tender when the boys were too drunk or two loaded to tend bar themselves.  She wasn't bad looking, but honestly the only reason she hung around at all was because she had a little thing for Buster.  She was a morally corupt woman with low self esteem and a bit of abandonment issues.  

She was the type of woman Buster would have been all over back in the day.  She came to see what he wanted.  "Amy this is...." "Uh... Bob..." The man stuttered.  "This is Bob.  Bob is a very important customer... Treat him well while we line up a replacement car at our expense."  Mouse gave Amy a wink and a nod.  Amy who had a reputation for being, let's say availiable to the members of the club when they were in the need smiled and nodded back.  "Okay." She said with a smile. "Come on Bob. Hey! You're kinda cute." She added as she stroked his hair and let him inside for a little of no strings attached sex.

When they finally had a bit of privacy Mouse was exhausted.  He wanted to break that guy's neck, but he took a deep breathe.  "We're going to have to steal a car for that guy.  Tell him it's a loner, that he doesn't have to bring back.  His car was a piece of shit anyways, Shouldn't be hard to find something to make him happy." Mouse said leaning against the tool table.  He took off his work shirt and balled it up and tossed it in the tool box.  Turning around he eyed Bastina.  He really looked at her for the first time.  He didn't really see much of Carson in her.  Not looks wise anyways.  That was good because Carson was a ugly fucked.  He loved him but damn that dude got hit with the ugly stick and they just kept swinging. 

"Look.  I'm no ass kisser.  I could give a fuck who's in charge as long as it's business as usual.  Carson's a good man.  If he believes in you then you got my confidence.  I'm behind you.  It's about time someone does something about the fuck show that is Johnny and Lulu.  Those two have been running this place into the ground.  Lulu is a spoiled child and Johnny doesn't have the balls to wear the pants.  It's bad for business.  Show me you're not just here for games, and you can run a crew and I'll personally show you all the behind the scenes shit that Johnny's only pretended to show you.  He hasn't let you in on everything.  But i need to know I'm not wasting my time here." Mouse looked around and saw Amy pulling Bob into a back room.  It was Mouse's room.  Ah fuck.  He thought.  He grinded his teeth, but turned back to Bastina.  "What is it you're really doing here.  You don't take me as the criminal mastermind type.  So.... You sticking around for the long haul? Or just a temporary replacement until Daddy gets back to clean house?"

Mouse took a moment to shoot off a quick tesxt.  It was nothing really.  Just taking care of a few annoyances.  Mostly getting Bob from calling the cops and pressing charges for destruction or personal property.  Amy looked like a fun roll in the hey, but he doubt that little trollop was enough to make a man forget about not having a car. A replacement that's all they needed and this could all be swept neatly under the rug.  Mouse's fingers moved along the keyboard as he listened to Bastina.  He was looking down at his acient flipphone.  He really had to get with the fucking times.

-Have one of your boys bring over the Honda Civic you got in the shot.  The one that you 'borrowed' yesterday.  Need it ASAP.  And by the way have you changed your phone number?-

Mouse was a cautious type.  He always texed his illegal shit in code.  He was asking for the stolen Honda they picked up yesterday and making sure the vin number had been changed.  He had a little stash of phony licesnse plates in the shop.  He could slap a few new plates on and good old Bob here could stop being his fucking problem.  Amy would take her time with him.  She knew the drill.  If it was important enough for a member to ask her to sleep with a nobody like Bob, she ast least knew enough that they wanted the guy out of the way for a little while.  Mouse flipped his phone closed and his eyes rised to meet Bastina.  

He still wondered about her.  She was after all Carson's daughter.  "Seems like you know what you're doing."  His eyes gave away nothing.  His expressiong didn't give much either.  He was a stone faced man if there ever was one.  He was a massive wall of silence and mystery.  No one in the club even knew that he secretly resented Johnny and Lulu.  He wasn't no bitch.  He didn't go bitching about things above his rank.  If he had a problem with the way things were run he got the fuck over it.  Chain of command.  Pure and simple.  Now there was a new chain of command.  And he was curious about one of the links in the chain.  

Mouse walked over to a red toolbox.  He moved his oil stained shirt aside and picked up a crumpled pack of cigarettes.  He shook them and peered inside to find one slightly bent cigarette inside.  The last one in the pack.  He pulled it out and stuck the mishappen thing in his mouth.  He didn't have a lighter on him.  Instead he picked up a blowtorch from the tool box and set it ablaze.  He lit his cigarette with a blowtorch.  A risky move with his whiskery beard.  He was damn likely to catch his whole face on fire, but alas he didn't.

 He breathed out a cloud of smoke that swirled around him and kept him even more mysterious.  The only light in the garage was the lights behind him.  It cast him in shadow.  He was nothing more than a hulking silohuette with smoke drifting apart around the edges.  "Your daddy was special.... He was a mutant.  Every member of this club is a mutant.  The boys might not follow you if you don't have let's say.... Gifts, like us."  He was smiling, but you couldn't tell that from the tone of his voice.  "Your father could shoot energy blasts.  Can you do the same thing?"  Mouse was always curious to see a mutant demonstrate their powers.  

He always loved to see just how special his mutant race was.  Mouse was filled with mutant pride.  Most of the fools were in fact.  He loved the power and respect the jacket gave him, but being a mutant gave him just as much fear and respect.  "Go on.  Let's see it." He urged as he flicked some ashes on the floor and stepped into the light so she could see his face a little better. "You show me yours, and I'll show you mine." He said with a smirk.

Mouse followed her outside for this display of her powers.  He folded his arms across his meaty chest and waited for whatever to happen, to happen.  He almost doubled over in laughter when he saw that she controlled butterflies.  It was tough not to die right there.  It wouldn't have been good to laugh in the bosses face but somehow he managed to keep his poker face from cracking.  He didn't even crack a smile.  He just stood there with that inquisitive look on his face.  The show got better when he watched a tree stump get carnivorously destroyed right before his eyes.  He smirked.  "Not bad. What do they call you?  Terminex?"  

He couldn't help himself.  He just found out his boss was the queen of the bugs.  Which was exactly what she was going to squash Lulu and Johnny like.  It was interesting to find out that she had her little spies snooping around the base.  He would have to remember to keep on his toes.  Mind his p's and q's.  But then again.  Mouse never ran his fucking mouth anyways.  He wasn't the type to sit and bitch about the problem.  Mouse was more the type to get up and do something about it.   Then came the turnabout.  And it was all fairplay.  She asked to see what he could do.

Mouse was more than happy to oblige her.  He decided to go little.  He could bulk up his mass.  Stack muscle on top of muscle on top of more muscle, but all he would show her was he could become a massive gorilla with next to no intelligence.  But by shrinking himself down he retained every bit of his considerable human strength.  He retained the same molecular mass, although he shrunk it way down to 1/8th the size of a fingernail.  So by shrinking down and keeping the same molecular density and strength his smaller form seemed to have unnatural strength.  He could shrink down and punch a hole in a brick wall.  A tiny tiny hole, but a hole in the wall none the less.  

Mouse got quiet.  His focus shifted to a small beetle in front of him.  He felt himself shrinking.  Growing smaller and smaller.  He was shorted than Bastina now and still he kept going.  He shrunk himself down until he was literally a little smaller than the beetle.  He could still be seen by the naked eye, if you happened to be looking for him.  Like really really looking.  He could have easily been stepped on, but since he retained the same level of strength he had in his normal human form he could easily catch that food and keep it from squashing him.

  A foot weighed next to nothing, even in his tiny tiny form.  "Down here!" He called.  His voice was massive and booming.  As if he was still sporting the same vocal cords as a full grown man.  It was kind of funny.  You might have even suspected one of those hilariously high pitched voices of someone who sucked on some helium from someone his size, but no.  He had a loud boisterous voice that carried even from so close to the ground.  Mouse smirked and reached up and tucked his loose hair back into his man bun before he started running full speed at the beetle.  He had a look of determination on his big bearded face as he met the creature that was as big as a bull to him. 

This was a flying beetle. It could spread wings and take flight.  Mouse didn't know that shit.  Hell, he didn't know one bug from the next.  The particular one was an ugly son of a bitch.  Mouse took off his belt and made a lasso.  He threw one end around the beetles big horned nose and scaled the beast like it was junior rodeo.  "YEEEHAW! GIDDEYUP MOTHERFUCKER!" He called out.  Wait.... Was that laughter?  Who would have thought Mouse would be laughing.  He wasn't exactly the laughing type, yet here he was.  Like he had just heard the funniest fucking joke this side of Arkansas.

The fellow was fucking strong.  It bucked and shook and tried to get him off.  As Mouse climbed up on his back he tightened the noose around it's bug neck.  He was going to break this bronco.  "You're mine now bitch!" He called out.  He had kind of forgotten that this was meant to be a demonstration.  He was fully invested in the act of catching and training a horned beetle now.  Only because he had never bothered to fuck with bugs while he was shrunken.  It had never occured to him honestly.  Who wants to go playing with bugs? Now he was and he was trying to impress the boss lady.  "8 seconds! New record!" He called out in his best country accent.  She couldn't see because he was so tiny at the moment, but Mouse had the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

Everything was going fine at first.  Then the nasty little bug took flight.  In all honesty Mouse wasn't much for flying. He wouldn't even get on an airplane.  When business took Mouse out of town he took the train.  It was safer.  His cheeks bulged and filled with something liquid.  He was afraid to see the color of it, instead he swallowed hard and tried to fight the queezy feeling overurling his stomach.  Luckily he wasn't fully about to throw up.  Rodeo was one thing, but being taken to flight school when he wasn't ready for it.... Well let's just say he was glad when it ended.  

When the beetle landed Mouse scurried off of it's back.  He crawled across the floor on all fours and collapsed.  "Oh god! Solid ground.  You tryna kill me lady?" He asked rather annoyed.  He turned to see her smiling.  He turned a little red and stood up brushing himself off.  "Well, it's not like the only thing i can do.  I can do other things." He assured her.  Though, he didn't specifically go into any details.  "I did that to the car with my bare hands." he said pointing at the car.
 
He was used to beying wrapped in a layer of mystery.  He didn't want to give away all of his secrets on the first date after all.  Mouse grew back to his normal size.  It was almost instanious.  He just shot right up.  Blink and you would have missed it.  Suddenly was face to face with her.  He was standing alot closer than he realized.  Mouse sort of towered over her.  His massive imposing form looming over her he couldn't help but feel a little sexual tension rising between them.  

She was the bosses daughter.  Was he really willing to go down that road?  Fuck that relationship up and the boss hates you forever.... But he wasn't thinking about the perks.  All he was thinking about was the softness of he skin.  She interupted his train of thought.  Interupted might not have been the right word.  More like his train of thought derailed and crashed through the village killing millions in dirty imagination land.  She did a complete 180 and asked him when the excitment happened.  He could think of a few cheesy lines that brought the conversation back to where his mind currently resided but instead he sighed. 

"We could make a few pickups." Mouse said simply.  There was no expression on his face at all.  He stared at her as honestly and as matter of factly as he ever.  She looked at him and he realized she probably didn't know what the fuck he was talking about.  Sure as fuck didn't sound very exciting.  "Didn't you see the wall?"  Inside the club was a wall with a list of classic cars.  Carson was in the habit of landing a fat little bonus check in the pocket of any member who snagged one of his dream cars.  He had a little personal collection somewhere in the city.  Stashed away in a little multicar garage that was payed for under a fake name.  

Mouse always enjoyed getting out into the city.  He never found any of these cars on the list...  Then again he didn't have insect spies all over town.  He just figured he could take her out on his motorcycle and shoot the shit for awhile.  It wasn't like anything else was happening.  There was Bob and Amy, but he was sure she could take care of him, and then show him the door.  Mouse moved over to his bike and sat down on it.  He walked past her pausing enough for her to move out of his way.  It took a moment.  He smirked.  He wondered if she was as amped up as he was.  He offered her the one and only helmet.  "Who knows.... Maybe we get into a little bit of trouble while we're gone."

The night's activities held little thrill for Mouse. He was far beyond the scared rush you get when you steal a car for the first time. He could have been doing the dishes. It would have had the same physiological effect on him. Mouse drove the car like a demon. Tightly bending around curves and riding the line between dangeorus and cocky. It wasn't like Johnny Rome was the only stuntman. Mouse was an execllent driver. Buster was the club street rat and wheel monkey. Whenever there was a getaway driver involved, Buster always filled that role, but Mouse was the club champion. Undefeated in street races. Filmographer, underground street racers..... He wore many hats.

Checking his rear view he saw Bastina on his bike. He was surprised she was able to keep up with him. He was basically a rocket in a super car. Carson wasn't fucking playing around. This car might have been in the last fast and the furious. He smirked when he saw the button that said NOS. No thank you. Leave the speed demon shit to Benny. Mouse was about prescion. Jerking the wheel hard he whipped the car 180 and came to a stop perfectly parallel parking by a curb. He had put a little distance betwen him and the bosses daughter. He turned the lights out and shut the car off and sat still.

He waited and watched. He wanted to see how resourceful she was. Sure she found the car, but could she find him? The night was young and Mouse was feeling unusually playful. He stepped out of the car and looked at the building beside him. It was three stories tall. He even left the keys in the ignition. Ballsy. Mouse's hair flapped in the wind. He pulled it back into a ponytail and strated to breathe heavy. He thought about rage and anger. Loosing his cool. He thought back to how that asshole little pipsqueak had the balls to talk to him like he was some kind of asshole. Suddenly The seams in his shirt began ot rip. Mouse was the only member to have a fool's Dice vest instead of a full on jacket. And this was the reason.

He groaned and grunted as his body changed. Muscle stacked on muscle. He bulked up to impossible size. Bigger than the worlds largest body builder. Mouse continued to contort. His eyes glowed a bright burning red color. His beard grew larger too. More cartoonish and more like a characature as his jaw distended and popped out of the joint. His jaw dislocated and even his face grew larger. Everything grew denser, thicker and stronger.

Mouse looked at the building again. He punched the wall as hard as he could. His fingers dug into concrete. He mad his own hand holds. In the center of the crators where his fists were destorying. He climbed the building, scaling the side of the wall like some big angry aniamal. King Kong came to mind. He saw headlights appearing over the hill. He reached the top of the building just in time to sit and watch what she did.

Mouse used the massive muscles in his leg to leap from one building to the next. He landed on the next builing over. Hugging the shadows and crouching low. He peered over the lip of the ledge with full on curiosity how the boss handled desertion. How she reacted to the unexpected and what she did when a 1 million dollar car was left hers for the taking with the key in the ignition.

Who cares if Mouse knew she had it. There was no proof. Mouse could be anywhere by this point. It was her choice what to do and he watched. As he couched half his face baked in shadow. His hair still flapped in the wind like golden angry locks of fire. His bright red eyes intently watching as puffs of smoke shot out of his notrils distrubing the dust on the dirty ledge.

In an unexpected turn of events the fucking cops showed up.  Mouse grinded his teeth as he watched the little blue haired dynamo jump in the car and speed off.  That car was fucking fast.  He wasn't Benny.  He couldn't just turn into a blur whenever he god damn well pleased.  All this extra muslce did a lot to slow you down.  He moved sluggishly but running at full speed, or at least full speed for him.  Jumping from rooftop to rooftop.  Every jump casting him as a large silohuette against the moon in the background.  

His jeans were ripped at the knees.  The stress of his transofrmation had turned his nice jeans into not so nice raggedy shorts.  His shirt was tan and brown and white flannel, button up under his leather vest.  They too remained though a little more ripped than they began the night.  Mouse's vest was the only thing that wasn't damaged by the transformation.  His boots were split open at the toes.  Massive toes, each the size of arms hung out over the edge.  It looked as if someone had cut the tip off his boots and allowed his toes more breathing room. 

His heart was racing as he took massive jumps.  Sometimes bypassing builidings entirely and jumping over one in a huge bound.  He was trying to close the gap but it was exhausting.  Sweat poured down his face as he saw her whip a corner and barrell down the next street.   This was his own doing.  He wanted to see how she reacted.  She reacted accordingly.  The cops were coming, what else was she to do?  He could have lost the cops while remaing cool.  She seemed to be in a panic.  That was until she stopped at a nightclub.  Mouse landed on another building.  spiderweb cracks ran along the tattered pavement beneath him as he moved closer to the edge.  

Mouse watched her toss the keys to a stolen car to some 17 year old kid and walk in like it was nothing.  If the cops were looking for that thing, and this kid parked it on the side of the street in the open things were going to get alot more insteresting inside.  His hair had slipped from it's ponytail.  Long strands dashed in front of his eyes.  The light breeze pushing it around his face.  He was still breathing heavy as he moved around the side of the rooftop to a side alway.

 He jumped down into a fire escape.  The thing nearly ripped from the wall under his weight.  Mouse shouldn't use any elevators in this form, though the stairs seemed like a worse idea.  He jumped down and dug his fingers into the brick wall of the neighboring building.  His weight, and gravity pulled him down and his dug in fingers into the brick slowed his descent.  Finally his feet padded on the wet ground.  Mouse's face was unnatural.  Human in theory but more ape like and bolder.

 He turned to the back door and grabbed the handle.  He ripped the door off the wall and allowed his muscles to melt away.  Now he was just a big motherfucker, not a superpowered big mother fucker.  Mouse was holding the severed door in his hands now.  He set it agains the alley wall and stepped inside.  Intantly he realized the music wasn't his bag.  It was loud, obnoxious new agy shit.  The kind of stuff that made your ears cry out and your common sense scream "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LISTNEING TOO?!?!" He balled his meaty fists.  He was ready to hit something.  He searched the sea of sweaty bodies.

His eyes landed on an overly aggressive asshole playing grab ass with Carson's daughter.  Mouse wondered if he would ever see her as anything more than just that.  Carson's daughter.  He stormed across the dancefloor.  Bulldozering his way through the crowd to mixed reactions of 'what the fuck' to 'holy shit.'Mouse was tired, pissed off and more than a little ready for violence.  His transformation had that effect,  for awhile his mind was all ape and his first instinct was to smash the fuck out of things that bothered him.  He had a bit of a temper when he was coming down from what he sweetly refered to as a work out high.  

Mouse's hand wrapped around the man's throat.  The muscles in that arm began to grow larger.  That aarm and that arm alone was bulked the fuck up.  The muscles in his hand grew more powerful as he pressed down around his throat his hand grew enough to entirely wrap around his neck as easily as if he was picking up a tv remote and he lifted him off the ground with one hand.  The change was subtle.  It wasn't the nutty professor looking weird.  With the bouncing lights and strobe lights it was hard to even tell that his muscle mass had changed, but it was easy to notice the force at which ht threw him across the club.

 The man flew over the dancefloor and hit the back wall where all the liquor was stored.  A watefall of booze and broken glass showered down  as people freezed out, some who didn't even notice because they were riding a little blue pill called ecstacy.  Only the people directly around them seemed to care much.  Mouse's face was back to normal, but even normal he was a big angry viking looking mother fucker.  He said nothing about the molester fuckbag but instead turned to Bastina.  

"You ditched the cops, I'm impressed."  Blue and red lights were flashing outside.  Mouse just so happened to glance and noticed them.  "Well, was impressed come on."  He said grabbing her wrist and dragging her to the back exit.  "Police chase is just the first stop on our tour'de'fun.  You wanted danger and excitement right?  Well it's time i showed youmy special side project."  He said.  His voice was natually loud and booming.  He could just be heard over the obnoxious music.