Red Handed

[Jackson Pierce]

He had mumbled his way through, glancing side to side as he slipped the bills that he had stolen from another student into the individual's hand as they stood behind a tree in a secluded area of the park. He didn't care what it took, getting the thing he craved so much. Alex had all but disappeared and before she went, she refused to give him any more pills, leaving Jackson desperate. If it wasn't for the fact that he needed it more then anything, not wanting to go through the shakes again, not wanting to be so sick again, he wouldn't have bothered. He would have gotten help. But that wasn't his way. He still refused to speak to anyone at the school, save Evan. And even then he knew the boy wouldn't tell on him.

He knew how to spot the guy from a mile away, having been so long on the streets. And he also knew how much it probably would have been. With a new needle and packet in hand, and the guy having disappeared, Jackson sat down beneath the tree, rolling up his long sleeve, and getting to work. If he did it now, he would be able to relax, to hide out. It was hours before curfew, and he only needed two minutes to get it done, and then just let it relax him. Mixing the powder with water from a water bottle he brought, he was engrossed in his work, trembling with excitement. Breathing heavily, Jackson filled the syringe, tapping out the air bubbles. Tying his bandana tightly around his upper arm, he waited for his veins to rise up, focused on the tip of the needle, watching it glisten in the spring sun, mesmerized by his own addiction. So mesmerized he didn't notice anyone approaching around him, until it would be to late.

[JJ Johnson]

JJ hated the whole patrolling shit. It wasn't the whole actually finding people or looking for them; no, it was the boring, wandering around nearly aimlessly searching for troublemakers and the like to actually get around to punishing and crap. Most of the time, nobody showed their little faces. JJ often ended up just kicking dogs or something to get his kicks (pun intended). Tonight he'd even insisted on separating from his partner for a bit, claiming that they could do this a lot faster if they went in two separate directions. Sure, things were going nuts, but so far nothing major had happened. The info had to spread yet.

He'd just rounded another corner when he spotted someone. JJ took a few steps closer, just to make sure that he had it right. Some idiot had apparently gotten desperate enough to actually get down and dirty in the park. Damn, JJ had some respect for the guy; that definitely took balls. not a whole lotta brains, even by JJ's admittedly rock bottom standards, but definitely some balls.

The officer strolled up to where the guy sat. He paused a few paces away, staring down at the guy, noting the tourniquet, the syringe, pretty much the everything, "Nice night to shoot up in the park huh?" he drawled, arching his brows. Oh, this was definitely gonna be fun...

[Jackson Pierce]

Jackson had just inserted the needle, when he was interrupted. Heart pounding, he took in the dark blue uniform, with it's various pockets and the weapon holstered on the hip just above his eye level. Pulling the needle from his skin, he gripped it tightly as he turned, knowing he couldn't get caught. Slipping on the damp ground, he tried to scramble to his feet, away from the cop and to freedom, and even as he tried, he knew he wouldn't make it more then a few steps. Inside, he wondered what would happen if he was shipped to juvie, if he would be able to practice his power just to get out. But from his experience, the cops in Brooklyn took pleasure in making sure the drug addled didn't move around much once actually caught. This guy looked just like they all did, a thick headed pig.

[JJ Johnson]

Oh, this was almost funny. The druggie had flipped his shit the moment he saw JJ's uniform, and it took all the cop had not to just stand there and chortle at the other's antics. The kid, and in this low light, he definitely looked young, looked like some kind of scared bunny rabbit. Which just made JJ feel all the more predatory, his grin turning downright feral as he watched the scramble.

JJ even let him get a few feet before moving forward. He was tempted to try something really cruel, like attempting to hit the kid or something. Instead, he just placed a heavy, restraining hand on Jackson's shoulder, tightening his grip just enough to make sure that the kid didn't go anywhere anytime soon. JJ almost wanted the kid to put up more of a fight: the more Jackson struggled, the more reason JJ had to unleash his full ass-kicking on the kid.

"Shooting up in the park, gotta admit, that's one of the dumbest things I've seen in a while. What's your excuse? Jonesin' so much that you just couldn't wait to get home or what?" he snorted, finding the whole thing to be just utterly stupid. awesome, since it meant he probably got to rough up a junkie a little, which would make his night, but completely and utterly stupid.

[Jackson Pierce]

Jackson could feel the heavy hand of defeat on his shoulder, and almost winced at the weight of it. Struggling still, he knew he couldn't go down without a fight, and knew he was the mouse in this game of Cat and Mouse. He was illing, he needed it and as he tried to twist, turn, contort himself in any way to get out of the cops grip. "Please man, I'm illin'." Jackson begged having dropped his needle during his struggle. He searched wildly around it with his eyes, not even thinking that he could just phase out of the cop's hand and be gone by running through a few trees. Looking away over his shoulders now, searched for anyone that would be able to help him. But no.. no one ever stood up to a cop in these suburbia places. Not like in Brooklyn when he could count on another nightwalker to ploy distractions to get him out of sight. "I need it.. please!"

[JJ Johnson]

"Illin'?" repeated JJ, scoffing. He'd never understood addicts, at least, not drug addicts. It sounded stupid to JJ, messing up your body like that. Of course, he never saw the irony in that, what with how he constantly put his body through shit with his adrenaline rushes and the like. His addictions didn't leave him a slobbering, pathetic waste of human flesh though. JJ snorted just looking at him, resisting the urge to spit on the addict.

"I don't give a shit if you need it or not, druggie," he said. he grabbed the boy now, moving to pin him down if absolutely necessary. "You're done. Shooting up in the park is a criminal offense, so you can enjoy 'illin' in jail, loser," growled JJ. he was already reaching behind him, reaching for his cuffs. He did make sure to push on Jackson a bit, tempted to shove the guy a little more. Nobody cared if he messed up drug addicts. If anything, this was the type of bust that was going to get JJ some more positive attention.

And who didn't love that?

[Jackson Pierce]

The ground came up and hit his back hard, causing Jackson to gasp, dazed from how much strength the officer had. He had been an idiot, that he knew, bu it was better an idiot and not getting caught by the school. If anything being kicked out of the school and living on the streets was better then jail in his eyes. But jail? He'd be eaten alive, he knew that. Bright blue eyes looked wildly up at the cop, whimpering slightly, something he hadn't done since the night his powers manifested.

"Please.. I.. I can't go to jail." He begged, his hands scrambling at the cop's, trying to get him to release him. "Please... not jail. Anything but jail." Sure he'd never been, but the tales that Jeff had told him, and he had seen others who had come out of jail different. And those that came out in a body bag. In Jackson's eyes, he would be the latter.

[JJ Johnson]

Ah, these were the best. The whimpers and stuff were practically catnip to JJ. He was already chortling at the thought of this little simpering idiot locked away in a jail cell somewhere. He'd be someone's bitch in a few nights, likely while still tweaking out. Already begging not to be sent to jail too.

"Shoulda thought of that before you started shooting up in the park, junkie," growled JJ. He finally got his cuffs loose, dangling them on one hand and getting ready to cuff the other guy. He paused for a moment, looking, wondering. The kid was kinda hot, but then again, JJ was likely to get a lot of credit for bringing in a druggie, especially if the kid was from the Academy or something. That would just be icing on this already delicious cake. Oh, and who said he couldn't have that cake and eat it too? Nobody'd believe a druggie.

"Don't worry though; pretty guy like you? Just find the biggest guy there and bend over for him. You'll be good to go. 'course, your ass won't be, but eh, that's what you get for winding up in jail. Oh, yeah, and you have the right to remain silent," JJ grinned at that last one. Always fun to drop the Miranda Rights in when the perp obviously wasn't gonna listen.

[Jackson Pierce]

"I needed to!" He twisted again, seeing the cuffs and trying to get free. Not jail... but at least with his background the comment of bending over didn't sting like the guy obviously hoped it would. Jackson shut his eyes, knowing that was the best way to escape most punishment there. "Nothing different there then." He grumbled under his breath, glaring as he caught the last bit of his rights. Yeah.. right... Like he had any rights. Though, as he twisted and felt his shoulder dig into a stick, he bit his lip, wondering how this guy was so strong. Kicking up slightly with a leg, he felt like a fish on land, flopping around, and vaguely hoped his foot would connect somewhere with the pig above him.

[JJ Johnson]

Need to: JJ scoffed at that. "Maybe if you didn't get addicted, you wouldn't need to, you little shit," he growled. Clearly someone had very little respect or liking for people like this. That was one vice JJ never took part in, nor did he have any plan to: he wasn't about to dirty his body with those kind of chemicals. Besides, booze was more legal and junk, so why not just engage in that as often as possible.

JJ didn't hear the grumbling; not that he would have cared even if he had heard. He just pushed a little harder, finishing up the Miranda rights thing. It then occurred to him that he should go ahead and call it in, reaching for his radio. he looked down at the squirming guy though, then over at the drugs. JJ paused for a moment. Here was a chance for him to engage in some good old fashion manhandling and nobody would care.

JJ gave Jackson a little kick then, mostly trying it out, though he definitely enjoyed the rush it gave him. he chortled a bit, leaning over. "C'mon, don't you wanna resist arrest a little?" he sounded almost overwhelmed with feral glee about that potential.

[Jackson Pierce]

Jackson glared upwards at the cop, recognizing the look that he had seen so many times before. This guy got his rocks off by people struggling. It was the gleam in the eyes and the taunting question, that Jackson kicked out again, harder this time. He could play this game. Might as well get back in the practice if he was going to jail. Gritting his teeth, he eyes narrowing, Jackson glanced at the needle as well. "You want me to fight you, don't you? Who would have thought a pig like you liked screamers."

He knew he may have stepped over the line, calling the cop a pig, but if he could get the man angry enough, maybe he would be able to charge him with police brutality. They might listen to him out here, away from the big city, right?

[JJ Johnson]

No shit JJ wanted Jackson to fight: that was why he practically demanded that Jackson resist arrest. The cop just snorted at that assertion; no, it was the last bit. "Pig, really? Man, that's just fucking dumb,' said JJ, giving Jackson another prod with his foot, "especially because I'm not the fuckin' junkie shooting up in the goddamn park who can squeal." JJ was tempted to step back and really give the guy a kick. He was practically asking for it.

But man, this guy wasn't even worth kicking; he was just that pathetic. JJ gave him another, but his heart wasn't in it. Instead he walked over to double-check the various paraphernalia, not that he had to; the kid had all but admitted it. He pulled his radio up, calling in that he'd found some drug stuff and a possible suspect. He then rose, turning to look at Jackson. He did bother to give the kid another tap with his foot.

"I'm gonna enjoy taking you in," he said, his smile cruel, "so just lay there like the pathetic waste of skin you are," and then he spat on Jackson, before moving to began gathering the evidence. He probably should have taken Jackson to his car first, but JJ wanted the kid to do something stupid. He was itching for a reason, any reason, to inflict more pain on the cuffed addict.

[Jackson Pierce]

Jackson winced, surprised at the strength this cop had as he let Jackson go long enough to radio in and then check the items that were scattered. He could feel his own anger flaring as he was called pathetic, his face growing hard. Rolling over, he pushed himself up, determined to prove he wasn't as pathetic as JJ said he was. Ir was so often that people called Jackson pathetic, that it ate away at him, and he wasn't thinking. He was behind JJ, and he felt his foot rise without even thinking about it, aiming square between the man's legs as he bent to pick up the bandana. If he was going in, and there was no chance of getting any way out, he figured he might as well leave his mark on the cop. Jackson knew he would never get out of jail alive, might as well go in for a very very long time of attacking a cop.

He kicked with all his might, at the same time, trying to phase his wrists through the cuffs. He felt one hand free itself, and let the cuffs dangle from his left wrist, his right one now free, even though it was going to bruise later.

[JJ Johnson]

Strangely, JJ had grown used to people attempting to kick him in that area. It still hurt; hurt like hell, but by now, JJ's precious jewels had grown at least a little used to the whole thing. So while the pain did shoot straight up, causing him to pause for several seconds to deal, it also worked very much to start dumping adrenaline into JJ's body. He could feel it kicking in almost immediately, the surge quickly overriding the pain.

Standard procedure when attacked was to apprehend the suspect with the least amount of force necessary. The suspect was considered hostile, sure, but police brutality never went over well. JJ turned, getting another few kicks in the process (like this kid could really hurt him). In reality, JJ's adrenaline was making him ignore pain; no doubt he'd be feeling every other hit in good time. As for the suspect though, JJ happened to believe in excessive force.

Especially if the perp was a mutant; 'cuz JJ was betting that the little punk didn't have a lockpick on him. Probably phased out of those cuffs.

"Oh, you're making this fun," he chortled. He then shot a heavy punch toward Jackson's face, putting his full strength behind the blow. He'd follow up with a quick shot at the stomach, hoping to one-two the guy, but at least figuring that one blow should hit even if the other missed.

[Jackson Pierce]

Jackson got as many kicks in as he could, before JJ started to retaliate. The kicks weren't as bad. He was used to those from him from before, but it was the knuckles hitting Jackson in the cheekbone that caught him off guard, his vision flashing bright in one eye. Staggering, he felt his shoulder caught by JJ, and his abdomen feel like it had been hit by a bullet. He had now entered fight or flight mode, and Jackson knew he was in no condition to run very far very fast. He lashed out again, using whatever he could to try and find purchase as he tried to have his vision clear. His nails scratched out, and his fists flew, but Jackson had no idea if they even landed on the cop.

He fought as hard as he could, his own adrenaline masking most of the pain that he knew he would feel later as well. He wanted to scream profanities, to insult him, but Jackson couldn't find his breath well enough to full fight, let alone talk.