Meanwhile, Accelerator just remains where he is. Booking it out of there doesn't occur to him, since those voice - those people, when they come into view - don't look particularly different from the thugs he constantly dealt with back home. Bigger and older, maybe, since these guys are clearly out of high school, but they're giving off the same stupid air.

Reattaching his cane to his arm cuff he then turns his head, spitting on the ground. "Fuck off," he says boredly, which gets one of the newcomers laughing.

"Shit, this punk ass bitch thinks he's tough!" He says, nudging his friend with an elbow before casually reaching into his pocket and pulling out a switchblade. "We got some bitch and, what the fuck, some fuckin' green alien in our turf? Looks like we gotta do something about that."

Unphased, Accelerator glances over at Donnie, and in the kind of tone you'd expect from someone chatting about the weather addresses him. "Hey, I want to see what you can do. Wanna beat the shit out of them?"