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originally posted in:The New Dojo
Edited by Chinkronomicon:
1/8/2018 5:09:20 PM
1
Then the door opened, and out strode the cripple.
He followed the noise, tracing the gunshots and pacing himself slowly. One foot forward, metal thud, drag. Repeat.
Middle-aged, with fair skin and salt and pepper hair. He was announced by the rhythmic thump and drag of his crutch and exoskeletal leg brace, both gracing one side of his body. The man wore simple khakis with a casual button-down, with only a simple cardigan over his shirt.
In other words, a far cry from the majority of the Dojo. In a place where limbs where replaced by superior prosthetics and powerful healing magic was commonplace, a cripple - or anything of the like - was rare.
On his belt was a leather holster for a simple semi-automatic pistol. No other weapon.
The older man looked at the spectacle with curiosity, eyes finally settling on the blue aura that held the bullets in place.
"You know, for a place where literal gods lounge and screw about, it's kind of surprising to see a bunch of goons mugging a young woman. So what happened?"
He stood his ground, not moving in front of the line of fire just yet. He wanted to see what the situation really was.
English
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The men all readied their weapons, but didn't raise them at the older man. The leader spoke up. "This doesn't concern you. We don't want anyone to get hurt, we just want the girl."
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He raised a hand and waved it, as if to signal for them to put their weapons away. "I'm a middle-aged guy with a crutch and a leg brace. No need for those things, god knows I've had them pointed at me too much in my earlier days. Can we do that? Talk without all the barrels?"
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"I wish we could, but too many so called gods roam this place that for all we know you're faking us out and actually a young warrior with superpowers, or maybe an old guy that has tricks up his sleeves that could take down armies. This Dojo isn't very kind."
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The man rolled his eyes. There was a begrudging respect in them, because even he knew the armed gunman was right about the Dojo. "Can't argue too much with that. And how do I know you're not a bunch of blood cultists about to do unspeakable things with this girl? Neither of us are guaranteed, so I say we break even. You take my word, I take yours. The name's Mason Cartier. I own Billhook Cleaners, just across the way from green." Slowly, as to not alarm the stranger, he unholstered his pistol by the barrel and tossed it over to him.
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All of the rifles were reluctantly lowered, but still held in the arns of the criminals. "Fine. You should still leave, old man. We're not going anywhere without her."
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Whoever the old man was, he looked unconvinced. "A bunch of guys with guns telling me they're leaving with a very young girl? Well, I don't know how you Dojo folk do it here, but as an upstanding citizen from where I come from, it's my job to ask why." He shook his head, clicking his tongue in the way an elder might scold his grandchildren. "Are there things like sеxual offences here? Excuse me if that sounds insensitive. Again, foreigner for the most part."
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"H-Hey, I'm an adult...I'm not that young...." The girl mumbled before the criminal leader spoke again. "It's just so we can make some money and feed our families. We won't do anything sexual."
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He shot a glare at the girl. While it pained him to act as aloof as he was, he knew he had to seem neutral as to not draw the thugs onto him. "Ah, so it's about the money? Well then. You see, I just opened up a business myself. Good and honest work. Profitable too. And none of it involves kidnapping this young lady here. Or any young lady for that matter." With an air of mock theatricality, he stroked his chin and snapped in realization. "I'm willing to bet security work for you lot would be more fitting. With all those guns and bravado, anyone's army would be willing to have you. Come now, it's the Dojo. Apparently [i]everyone[/i] has an army of some kind." He shrugged again. "Good and honest work. Much better compared to this ruffian business."
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Edited by Stitch: 1/10/2018 12:35:45 AM"Fight in an army where normal people like us die by the millions? No thanks!" One of the dozen criminals called out, the rest agree and nodding. "We refuse to add to this damn violence. I know that might seem hypocritical with us doing this, but we didn't plan to get anyone hurt. Security is also just a damn suicide contract. Security? Here?" "We'd be dead in a week!" Another one called out, the rest cheering in agreement.
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[i]Well they aren't stupid,[/i] he thought to himself bitterly. He made himself wince at the sound of their rejoicing agreement. "Forgive me for calling your card, but it doesn't [i]seem[/i] hypocritical. It just plain is. Instead of finding any other work, you hold your guns up to a girl at the back of a bar." The man shifted his weight and tapped his crutch's butt against the ground. "That's almost as bad as mugging someone like me. Except I'm a dandelion compared to the... exotic people of the Dojo. Maybe security or military isn't the life. Find another job. Go someplace other than Tatakai. Tell me, how well is it to feed your family off of ransom money made off a helpless girl?"
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"Who said anything about ransom money? We were going to use her abilities to try and make some money. I mean, she can make people happy, literally, just out of no where by just touching them. Lots of money can be made from a girl that can give people happiness no matter how screwed their life is."
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For effect, he turned his head to the young woman backed up into a wall. Then he swung back towards the armed men. "This doesn't seem like a proper business deal to me. In fact, now this just sounds worse than ransom. Holding a potential partner up at gunpoint is never a good idea. That's like someone threatening my life just because they want a share in my store. Using the poor girl's abilities wouldn't be bad if you had her permission. But this? This is sad. Is this what people have come to? Forcing others to do something for them just because they're different?" As good as Mason's act was, he barely held back the irony in his voice. The very things he was saying almost contradicted what his true purpose in the Dojo was - and what the goals of his employers were.
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"Don't blame us. Blame the damn gods and so called heroes that make life a living hell for us....I just want my little girl happy again...." The man holstered his weapon. "If you're not going to fight us then just leave, we're not being talked out of this."
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People just trying to get by in a place like the Dojo. A haven of violence, erratic behaviour and death. The birthplace of legends that most often began in undiagnosed sociopathy. He couldn't hide it. One of his hands clenched into a fist as he thought of [i]him.[/i] "We all want something," he spoke softly, "and god knows I understand what it means to do anything for a loved one. But you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. I never had someone like me to catch me in the act and tell me to stop. Lucky me, I guess. You have a few choices. Option 1: You can draw your gun and leave me a corpse on the ground with the poor young lady here most likely too traumatized to perform any tricks for you lot. And trust me when I say that you'll be leaving me as a corpse. Would you like that?"
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"We're not killing you. You two, grab her..." Two men rushed forward and grabbed the girl, gagging her so she couldn't yell and tying her hands behind her back. "Sorry, old man, but she'll make us rich."
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He shifted his weight to his good leg and pointed the crutch at the speaker, ignoring the girl for now. "So be it then. I'm still new around here, so I don't really get the customs, but I'll try my hand at it anyways. I challenge you to a good old-fashioned melee duel." The man spoke with complete sureness despite his position. A cripple challenging an armed thug to a fight - who the hell was this guy? "Beat me, and you get my wallet and my gun. I have a ghost card, like a credit card but stocked with thousands of dollars' worth of cryptocurrency. Untraceable money to an anonymous user. You could buy an entire militia and nobody could trace it to you. But if I win, you let the girl and I go. Come now. You're going to take the girl anyways - might as well make some extra funds off an old man who wants some exercise. Oh, and I wouldn't try just robbing me of my card. My wallet needs my clearance to unlock itself, after all. So what do you say?" His tone was taunting, as if trying to lead the thug into the battle by condescension.
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"So this is the catch? I don't feel like possibly losing her just because you have a trump card...but the money...." The man thought it over for a bit. "I don't think I could hurt an old cripple even if he's asking for it. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to rob you. Men, let's take her home." The girl squirmed and kicked as she was tied and carried away.
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He cursed quietly under his breath. Since the thug didn't take the bait, it looks like he had to drop the subtlety. "Right. Option 2 then." Materializing out of thin air, several drones about as big as an armoured fist appeared. Their lights shone down brightly on the group like a collection of mobile spotlights. "If you don't take the deal," he began, "then I contact almost every two-bit law enforcement wannabe in the Dojo. Every faction that thinks that they're providing justice and protection all drawn to you lot. I'm sure you're smart enough to know how many PMCs and personal armies are run by people who try to be the good guys. I start streaming these drones and their location, and you'll have every "hero" on your trail in minutes. Funny, how useful these little helpers can be. I usually use them to help me carry loads back at the shop, but fit them with a couple cameras and wire them right... and speaking of which, they're on a digital dead man's switch. Shoot one of them, and this goes live. Shoot me... now, you wouldn't wanna find out what my drones do when my biometrics flatline." He spread his free hand outwards theatrically. "So what's it gonna be? Indulge an old man's silly request, or race every prick with a weapon in this place?"
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"I think the guys hunting the heroes will just use that opportunity to their advantage and keep us covered...buuut....Fire!" All of the men took aim at the drones, all firing at them at the same time.
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While half were caught in the crossfire, the others weren't dumb. They scrambled and began swirling around the men, keeping them preoccupied by zipping by their lines of fire. Taking this opportunity, the man pointed his crutch at the young lady during the chaos. Now that all of the men were too busy firing their weapons, it was his chance. From the crutch's end launched a translucent ball no bigger than the tip of the crutch itself. It attached to the young woman, pulling her back rapidly via the metal cord that anchored it to the structure it was shot from. The cripple grunted and bent on one knee, the other locking into position through its mechanical leg brace as he opened his free arm to catch the young woman. Zooming back to their master, the remaining drones directed their light towards each other, forming a sheet of energy over the duo: a crude shield. He stared back at the thugs through the shields, eyes now free of his hasty bluffs. Pupils filled with contempt that seethed at the thugs. "Bullies and thugs, all of you. Lemme tell you the truth. There are no heroes and villains. Here, there are only people like you but in different clothes. Here's another truth: there was no signal to every armed faction. But someone is coming." For a moment his anger subsided, looking at the men with pity. "Go. Please, before they get here. Nobody has to get hurt tonight."
