Chapter 29 - The Circle
By pierrot-le-fou
Spilling and breaking, the ocean waves rippled towards shore with the swell. Clashing against the rocks close to the pier, a fine spray erupted into the air, making the seagulls complain as they were doused with the cold salty water.
Sitting at the end of the pier was Allen Black, sprawled out in a folding chair eating a hotdog and basking in the bright midday sun. The cool breeze was refreshing since he wasn’t wearing his usual stuffy suit, dressed only in some beat-up jeans and a plain white shirt and a pair of flip-flops.
Keith shook his head as he approached his oblivious and tacky casual partner, feeling overdressed as he pressed up the rickety old pier in a crème colored suit and white dress shoes.
“So how’s the wife?” Keith asked, patting his friend on the back as he sat down next to him in another folding chair.
“She’s ok, I guess… she hates you… which in turn makes her hate me… so I’d have to say that all is usual on the home front.” Al chuckled.
“Ugh… sounds brutal.”
“Tell me about it.” Al sighed as he stuffed the rest of the hotdog in his mouth. “So you up for the day or what?” he said, still chewing.
“Of course, Bruce already phoned back. He’s going to meet us there at seven.” Keith smiled at his genius. “Don’t forget that while we’re having fun we gotta actually do work, Al. So don’t hit the long island iced teas first thing.”
“No sweat, dawg.” Al chuckled again.
“I know Q gave us this little weekend off where we don’t have to do any work; and it’s great, I’ve actually got a couple decent nights of sleep, but I just wanna get that little heads up on things, yah know? By the way… what’s your favorite Kevin Costner movie of all time, and Field of Dreams doesn’t count? Go!”
“Uh…**bleep**, putting me on the spot like this… I’d have to say OpenRange.”
“See! Thank you Al, you’re a good friend.”
“What brought that on?”
“Ah, this chick I’m dating, she’s drivin’ me up the wall.”
“She’s driving you up the wall because of Kevin Costner?”
“Well, you could say that… it’s complicated,” Keith said, checking his pockets. “Ah crap, you don’t mind if we go by the station real quick?”
“Nah, man. S’cool with me,” he replied as they got up to leave.
“Oh hey, we got some visitors watching us from that barrier over there. See em’… we should totally do some fruity stuff to mess with em’.” Keith chuckled as Al turned his head slightly to see two awkward looking guys randomly standing around the boardwalk with a dark cat at their feet.
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“Dude, this is the gayest thing ever. We’re at the freaking beach, watching two dudes on the pier!” Huang ranted as he leaned against the concrete barrier and gazed out at the beauties sunning themselves on the sand. “Even you haft admit this is messed up Hei… nah, you probably like watching men, don’t you, you gross **bleep**.”
“Huang, you didn’t have to come along. Me and Mao could have kept track of them easily enough,” Hei said calmly as he dozed off slightly.
“There’s no hope for you man. Something, anything is better than this torture… wait… wtf is this?” Huang said, distressed. “Did… did they just rub their noses together! Wtf?!?!”
“Did you ever consider that they might have spotted you, and simply done the act to irritate you?” the cat said blankly.
Huang had a pale look on his face as he looked back up to see Keith and Al dying of laughter.
“Remember Sun Tzu, Huang, ‘Attack him where he is unprepared.’ By playing into his trap, you’ve merely given him a glimpse into your own faults,” the dark cat continued as he began to walk away. “This man you’ve been following is no fool, Hei. We should have stayed in the car, out of his sight.”
“I tend to agree, Mao,” Hei said indifferently as he started walking toward the car.
Huang was about to shout in frustration, but he sighed and followed them.
***
Bruce Herman had always hated working construction out in the baking sun. The sunny heat melted away at Bruce, and made him thirsty, which was why he was so thrilled when his old buddy Keith had called and asked if he wanted to go out for some drinks. It was the end of summer; he had to do some partying to celebrate the reconstruction of his home.
It was roughly the same size as his last house, but with more modifications than the previous zoning laws would allow. In a sense, the destruction of his home was the best excuse in the world for him to rebuild the place exactly like he wanted it. He had been thinking about doing it before but he knew Sarah wouldn’t let him. Bruce was very grateful to all the people that had helped him out along the way. Especially his neighbors who had taken the couple in while Bruce was rebuilding their house.
This party was like a treat for Bruce. Something that would prove to him that, hey, you know it wasn’t all for nothing. You can still have fun, in the face of responsibility. For now he just wanted to get back in the swing of things, take some notes on some good booze and enjoy some good food in the company of his friends.
“So you never told me?” Bruce yelled across the house at Jean, who was installing a sliding glass door, “You wanna come tonight or what?”
“Sure man, I’d love to break it at Hannah’s. You know me, I’m down for whatever,” Jean said as he started putting in the lining.
“Cool, um, you got anything nicer to wear than that jacket?”
“What’s wrong with my jacket?”
“Umm… nothing… it’s just, you know, you kinda look like a thug.”
“What?” Jean yelled. He could barely hear him over the noise the drill was making as he connected the brackets.
“Eh, never mind.” Bruce shook his head as he went back to moving heavy objects around the house. “As if wearing a nice shirt is going to make people look past those tattoos.”
“What yah say!?”
“Nothin’!” Bruce yelled back. “Just watch the enamel!”
***
The station precinct was a second home to Keith. He enjoyed the constant chatter of activity in the station and the smell of stale coffee and random mixes of food that wafted from the kitchen into the detectives’ floor. He especially loved his new office; it had that “new car” kinda smell to it; as well as a nice rich mahogany desk and matching leather rolling seats. When he had first seen the seats, Keith jumped into one and spun around in it until he got dizzy and fell over.
It was all the more disappointing to him when he walked into his office to find Inspector Lunge kicking back in one of his rolling chairs and going through some of his case files. “Oh great,” Keith thought, “now I have to burn my chairs.”
“Hi!” Keith said, feigning a cheery tone.
“Hello, Detective 1st Grade Keith Douglas,” Lunge said, typing slowly in the air with his fingers. “I must say, I admire your dedication to come in on a day off from work,” he said as Keith moved around to the other side of his desk and opened a drawer, revealing a large bottle of Jose Cuervo.
“Oh don’t worry about me and my dedication,” Keith said, pulling out the bottle of tequila. “I take 9 to 5 very seriously,” he said as he started walking back out of his office.
“Do you take some sort of vain pleasure in trying to infuriate me, Detective Douglas?” Lunge said with a somewhat perturbed look on his face.
“Interesting…” Keith pondered, “The fact that you’re surprised by Mr. Cuervo here means that your little agents aren’t shadowing me that well.” Keith chuckled and looked back at Lunge. “I wonder if you’re doing it intentionally… losing track of me in hopes that something unexpected might happen. Is that about right, Inspector?”
“Hmm, that’s a very interesting theory, Detective Douglas. What’s next in that theory of yours? Blame me for your little misfortune you had with those two ruffians? Please,” Lunge said, swiveling around in Keith’s chair. “As much peace of mind as it might give you to blame me for your transgressions, you’ve only brought it all on yourself, you haggard crook.”
“You can’t prove that,” Keith rebuked him as he felt the stubble on his face, feeling a bit hurt to be called haggard.
“I don’t have to!” Lunge glared at him. “All I have to do is look at the way you clear cases. You’re as crooked as they get, Detective Douglas. And the only thing that burns me more is that I can’t prove it because I’m contained by the same rules you ignore and trample over.”
Keith shrugged and thumbed his nose. “Well you know… win some lose some never really worked out for me.” Keith laughed and walked back out of his office, leaving Lunge to stew at the foot of his desk.
Lunge had become very quiet, almost expressionless. He sat back down in Keith’s rolling chair very quietly and furrowed his brow. “You’re quite the intriguing criminal, detective. Very intriguing indeed.”
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“So how’d that go?” Al asked as Keith came out into the lobby.
“I got him right where I want him.” Keith shrugged.
“Yeah and where’s that?”
“Right behind me with my pants down by my ankles, but it’s a start,” Keith said, taking a deep breath for air.
“Dawg, the imagery… you gotta hold up on it.” Al shook his head as they went down the lobby.
“Oooh! Q’s here!” Keith cheered as he obnoxiously jumped over a desk and ran to Q’s office.
“I swear you’re a child,” Al sighed as he trudged after Keith.
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Q was leaning back in her comfy armchair. She closed her eyes as she kneaded her forehead, trying to massage out the headache that was slowly working its way back to the base of her skull. It had been a rough day; there had still been very little immediate help at the federal level after the riots, which had forced her to bear the full burden the riots had created. The job was slowly wearing down on her, forcing her to play her Iz albums just to get through the rest of the day.
As she opened her eyes, she couldn’t help but laugh as she saw Keith pressing his face up against the glass making faces and gritting up her clean windows. The smile quickly faded as her eyes fell on another report. It seemed as though Ozzal’s Echelon forces had had yet another rough night. By the count it was two dead bodies recovered. One just outside the Cathedral in Orly, a man identified only as Vicious. The other wasn’t even identifiable; the man’s body had been crushed in a most peculiar way, almost as if his body and been **bleep** inwards by some black hole. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
As Q looked back up, she saw Keith had taken the time to smudge writing into her window. “I… rule… you…” she said aloud. “I’m going to strangle him one of these days.” She grimaced as her face met her palm.
***
The scent of cinnamon and fresh bread had taken over Café de l’Argeno. Hikki Follet had been on a robotic mission, getting up early to start the prep work for the dough, and continuing his manic baking spree well into the afternoon. It was the only way he figured he could deal with the terror he had witnessed last night. It was the only way he could keep himself distracted from Spice, who was wide awake and cheery as ever, despite what she had done.
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After closing the bakery the previous night, they had all gone to the warehouse to check on Spice and the others that were taking refuge in there. They brought baskets of fresh bread and pastries for them to eat, since Clarice was sure that they might be starving. It wasn’t long after they arrived that the doors to the warehouse flew open, and that man stormed in.
He was a monster dressed in white, with a skull resting on his left shoulder and a row of spikes on his right. His blue hair shimmered in the moonlight as his rich, all-encompassing golden eyes stared them all down. “Greetings,” the tall man in white said. “Can anyone tell me where Spice is?”
His words were chilling, calm and direct. Hikki was surprised as Samson began shouting at the man, “Who the hell are you! What are you doing here?!” It was a silly question of rage, Hikki thought in retrospect, but the man humored him.
“I am Legato Bluesummers, and I am here to reclaim Spice.” Legato crooked his head at Samson, letting his bright golden eyes melt into Samson’s brain.
Hikki was preparing to defend himself against the man, at all costs. He wouldn’t let Samson or Clarice get hurt either. But just as he reached for a cookie cutter to attack the man with, the strangest thing happened… He thought he had heard Spice laugh.
Suddenly a petite hand combed through Legato’s blue hair. His gaze fell off of Samson as his eyes suddenly opened wide with fright.
“You’re a cute one, you know.” Spice giggled as she draped her arms around the petrified man, rubbing his neck and chest.
“What is this? Why are you like this… why do you have the presence of my master? You are not a superior being!” Legato yelled.
“Maybe, but I’m definitely superior to you,” she growled as she pressed her hands on his stomach.
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Hikki didn’t want to reflect on it anymore. It was far too gruesome to remember the way the man started gargling up blood, and Spice’s wicked screams of glee as her eyes glazed over and she began crushing the man down.
He had been bruising the dough; he needed to concentrate. But there was so much more to do. “Zpice! Get ze buns from ze oven for me!” Hikki yelled absentmindedly, not thinking that Spice was helping Clarice teach Anne. But she kindly did as he asked without question. She was completely different from the demon they saw last night; she was the old Spice. The slightly peeved but always cheerful Spice they knew for so long. Hikki just hoped it lasted.
***
The night was hot on the streets. The air was thick and Keith could feel his hair dampening from sweat. The humidity was making it almost unbearable to stay outside and Al was complaining about getting thirsty. It was going to be a good night for the bars.
Hannah’s was an interesting choice for their meeting. The place was noisy and bright; it was also incredibly busy and writhing with activity. But Bruce had insisted that it was one of the best places in Actonia to come down and unwind, and it would act as the perfect mask for Keith’s plan. He also insisted that the shows the girls put on were some of the best in town.
Keith saw instantly as he came through the doors that Bruce hadn’t lied. His eyes immediately met a breathtaking young redhead dressed in a revealing bikers’ jacket and bikini top with matching flame patterns. He watched her for close to a minute as she danced and swayed on that pole, never once taking his eyes off her. Keith almost passed out as she gave him a wink.
“Keith!” Keith heard a roar from behind him. Swiveling his head, Keith saw the gigantic Bruce Herman waving at him from a table close to the bar along with another guy who was preoccupied with a girl’s performance.
“So that’s where we’re sitting.” Al shrugged as he practically had to drag the salivating Keith towards the table.
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“Hey you know it smells like stale beer in here.” Al sniffed.
“Yeah, that’s cause this is an actual bar. If you wanna smell candles and hair gel, go down to Bungalow 87 with the rest of the posers,” Jean said as he began pouring their mugs.
“Hey, d’you guys eat something before you joined us?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, we had a couple burgers before we got here.” Keith nodded.
“Perfect, that’s good to have some food in your belly. This way when the puking starts, you’ll have something to heave up other than the lining of your stomach,” Jean continued.
“All that and other pointers to come boys!” Bruce laughed as he took a swig from his mug.
“Well I don’t mean to burst your bubble guys, but I’m pretty experienced at this kinda stuff, so no pointers necessary.” Al chuckled as he took his first sip.
“Ha, experienced beer **bleep** maybe,” Jean teased.
“Hey now, I’m no beer **bleep**! Okay, pal,” Al insisted.
“What the hell is a beer **bleep**?” Keith asked.
“Yeah, what is that anyway?” Al echoed.
“A beer **bleep** is one of those guys that talks a good game, then he has a couple a drinks and he starts getting all mushy on you, and going ‘hey man, I love you bro, I love you so much’. Then when you have a few more beers they grab you by the shoulder and start crying about how such a great guy yah are.” Jean demonstrated by grabbing Bruce’s shoulder, “Oh, Bruce you’re so awesome man!”
“Hey man, I’m no beer **bleep**! I’ll take you on at drinking!”
“Pssh, we’ll see.”
“You know what I say, I say we stop the idiocy and get down to doing some damage,” Bruce said as he raised his glass.
“Yeah!” Al shouted, raising his mug.
“Hear! Hear!” Jean agreed.
“Cheers guys!” Keith said as he downed his glass.
***
Samson brushed his teeth every night before bed. He found it was one of the few things that would mentally numb him enough from the visual assault of Hikki and his gaudy pink robe. Tonight was different though. He had things on his mind. Clarice had been avoiding him all day, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. His mind raced as he got in bed and fluffed his pillow, completely absent as he tried to gather his brains around why she would treat him like a ghost. Even when Hikki raced into bed and sexually harassed him, he was clocked out, not even in it with him.
“Hey!” Hikki waved his hand in Samson’s face. “What ees wrong my zweet Chu? You know you can tell me,” Hikki said, slightly concerned.
“It’s… it’s Clarice.”
“Eh! What haz zat leetle she-devil done to my Samson!?!” Hikki shouted as he pulled a rolling pin out of nowhere.
“No, nothing, it’s just…” Samson sighed.
“Go on.”
“Hikki, I… I love Clarice. But I don’t know if she loves me.”
“Zo zat ees what has you down.” Hikki laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about eet. She loves you too my leetle heartbreakair,” he said, pinching Samson’s cheek.
“Wait… you’re taking this rather well. I thought you’d have been upset if we had this conversation.”
“No, eet eez only naturelle, Samson. I only keed weez you and Clarice. I already know truly zat you weel nevair love me as Argeno and I loved, but I am fine weez zees.” Hikki rolled over in bed. “Why don’t you go zpeak weez hair now before she goes to zleep.”
“But I thought that…”
“Samson, ze sleeping arrangementz I made wair only to keep you two from doing zomezing you might regret. Clearly we’ve moved past zat now.” Hikki smiled. “Now go before I change my mind!”
“Yes sir!” Samson leapt out of bed and down the hall. He was going to tell Clarice how he felt, even if it killed him.
Back in Hikki’s room, a single teardrop rained down Hikki’s cheek. “I have been zo zelfish, Argeno.” he said quietly, closing his eyes and falling to sleep.
***
Eight pitchers of booze later…
“Dude, I just gotta say man… I like you man… we should be like, friends and stuff!” Al said, reaching out blindly and patting around for Jean’s shoulder.
“What’d I tell yah,” Jean whispered at Bruce.
“This isn’t good. He’s reached level 2 in record time.” Bruce shook his head.
“Hey man, there’s no levels, at least I don’t think there are… whoa.” Keith cut himself off as he saw that knockout at the end of the bar.
The others turned to see, and also dropped their jaws.
“A+ to the observant man in the white suit,” Bruce commented with a happy smile on his face.
“Hey man, she’s a real prize. You should go talk to her,” Jean encouraged.
“Yeah but isn’t she a stripper?” Al said as Jean kicked him under the table.
“Hey, watch how you talk about the ladies!” Jean yelled at Al.
“Yeah, whatsa matta wit you, huh? You wouldn’t know a lady if she sat on your face… Jackass,” Keith said as he elbowed Al.
“So what if she’s a stripper anyway, she’s cute! And if she’s sitting at the bar, maybe she wants someone to talk to?” Jean theorized.
“Yeah, but I dunno,” Keith slurred.
“Hey, hey, now it’s like an unspoken rule, that if you get really drunk and you see a chick you like, you gotta go and be daring and try and have the crazy ‘meet a chick at the bar’ type pick up,” Bruce said.
“Go get her, buddy!” Jean cheered as Keith picked himself up.
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Keith got up from the table, not feeling his legs. He felt like he was gliding on air, as if on a cloud that marched him directly toward that knockout in a pretty blue summer dress.
“Hi there… um?” Keith fished for her name as he sat down in the barstool next to her.
“Angel,” she said seductively, smiling at Keith and flipping her hair.
“An Angel, huh? That’s a very pretty name, Angel…” Keith smiled at her as he touched her thigh. She let his fingers explore her waist, until she realized too late what it was he was looking for. “The Syndicate sure does know how to toss bait at somebody,” Keith said, a little disappointed as he let his eyes fall away from hers as he pulled a hidden pistol out from her dress.
Angel had a distressed look on her face, and felt feverish as she suddenly realized how disastrous things had just become. Her eyes darted to find Hei in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t freak out,” Keith said softly, meeting her eyes once again. “I’m not here to start any trouble with you people. I just wanna talk,” he said as he slid the small pistol under a napkin and pushed it under her hand. “A girl like you has got to be able to protect herself after all.”
“So what do you want to talk about?” Angel asked, her tone was more serious than before.
“Well, nothing in particular with you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re attractive enough, but I have my eyes set a little higher, you know, about eye level in height, dancing on that pole over there,” he said, pointing at the girl that had made his heart explode in his chest earlier.
“Oh, you mean Yoko? She’s not in the Syndicate though, she just works here.”
“Perfect!” Keith exclaimed as he held his hand up to attract the dirty blond bartender’s attention. “Hey there, Mr…. uh, Kittan is it? I’d like to get a white Russian and another of whatever this lady’s having.”
“Just a cream soda please, Kittan,” Angel said, smiling at the hawt blond bartender.
“Coming right up,” Kittan replied.
“So… where is the mystery man that’s been following me all day?” Keith asked Angel.
“To be honest, I’m not completely sure. He is here though.”
“Well if you see or hear from him in the next five minutes, tell him I’m going to the bathroom. Now smack me once real good across the-“ Angel smacked him so hard he fell out of his seat.
Keith got up, and shivered as he felt his jaw. “I guess I shoulda been careful what I asked for,” he said, picking up his drink and walking back towards his table that had erupted in laughter.
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“I’m gonna go use the little boys’ room guys, continue without me,” Keith said as he kicked Al’s shoe.
Cruising through the club, his eyes met up with Yoko again. “She’s something else…” Keith thought as he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
The men’s bathroom was surprisingly quiet and unoccupied. It had a very rich, dark feel to it. The walls were a deep shade of forest green with a dark red trim around the sinks and matching burgundy stalls.
Keith headed to the sink to wash up, turning the cold water faucet on. He looked up in the mirror at his face while he let his hands test the water temperature. Lunge wasn’t kidding – he did look tired. He noticed the wrinkles coming in around his eyes as he wiped at the black bags that hung beneath them. Ducking his head to the sink, he started rinsing and scrubbing his face with the cold water, thinking he’d refresh himself somehow.
Grabbing a few paper towels, he looked back in the mirror to see a man standing behind him to his right. The man wore a black trench coat and a white mask with a single blue mark across one eye. Keith wasn’t the least bit surprised that the man could sneak up on him so easily; he was, after all, a contractor.
“So…” Keith started as he finished drying off with the paper towel, “why are you guys following me?” he asked bluntly.
“I was asked by my employer. He seems to be under the impression that you could pose a great deal of harm to the Syndicate,” Hei answered flatly.
“Could I ask you who your employer is?”
“Landon Blaken.”
“Really? That high up, huh? He’s been missing for a year now, I hear. I wonder how he knows about me.”
“He knows that you are a very quickly rising figure in the National Police. He knows that you are one of the best detectives they’ve ever had. He knows that you have an eye and ear in almost every organization in the city. But what he knows even more is that you rose so quickly to your position thanks to the favors you pulled in relation to a one, Major Thomas Taredan. Whom I attacked and nearly defeated just last night.”
“What I did for Taredan is ancient history. It’s history that I’m not proud of, but it got me kicked up the ladder. It got me a position where I could do more than just sit back and take what they fed me.” Keith stopped himself. “But I do want to make up for that,” Keith added.
They both stood staring at each other for a while in silence. “Not much else to say, huh?”
“I wasn’t told to converse with you. I was told to watch you. And that is exactly what I’m doing.”
“Well, I wish you the best of luck with it then. I must be becoming quite a celebrity being followed around by internal affairs and the Syndicate.”
“IA security is a joke. Other than Roger Smith, they’ve barely even been able to keep up with you, much less monitor your actions.”
“Hmm, well that’s good to know. Hopefully they won’t recognize me when I go out and make a fool of myself.” Keith grinned as he downed his white Russian.
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“You’ve wanted to do this all night, buddy,” Keith said to himself as he emerged from the quiet bathroom into the loud music and bright lights of the bar. Slinking his way past a crowd of people, and through the seats surrounding the stage, Keith got a massive applause from the crowd as he jumped up onto the stage. Although a bit tipsy and worried that he might have startled Yoko, he started to feel the music and let his shoulders sway as he grooved closer to her.
His moment with Yoko hadn’t lasted long. He was quickly tossed into the back room by two bouncers, and it wasn’t until Bruce came to the back and got him out of there that Keith finally realized what had happened… he got a kiss on the cheek.
***
The group started out of Hannah’s in a massive tumbling tower. Apparently they thought their combined manliness would hold them upright as they stumbled down the Actonia streets as they sang about the raiders of the autumn wind.
“Hey! Hey! Who was that chick you was dancing with at the end there, heh?” Al slurred as he began leaning harder on Keith.
“Ah, you noticed that! I didn’t know you could see me while you were passed out on the table,” Keith chuckled as Jean and Bruce laughed in turn.
Just then the fun was interrupted by a loud clash, followed by Emiri flying straight through a concrete wall, quickly followed by Kira.
“What the heck?” Keith blinked. He was sure he had seen this woman before. “Hey! I know you, don’t I?”
Emiri’s eyes darted to the group as she charged at them “Get down!!!” Emiri screamed as she and Kira both used all their force to shove the group backwards.
It wasn’t a moment too soon, as Zeus was already on top of them. He slammed his wickedly pointed mace into the ground, sending out a shockwave of energy that took everyone off their feet.
“Is everybody all right?” Emiri asked as she helped Keith and Al to their feet.
“What kind of question is that?” Jean started chuckling. “I don’t know about the rest of you. But I didn’t think I’d get to have this much fun in one night!” Jean screamed as some incredible bloodlust took control of him. His eyes began glowing blue as they opened wide with excitement; he ripped his jacket off of his body and howled with glee. In a matter of seconds Zeus’s left shoulder was cut open. Blood flew high into the air as Zeus was staggered by the blow.
Zeus stumbled backwards as he gripped his shoulder. In an instant the wound was beginning to heal.
“Dammit **bleep**! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Emiri yelled at Jean as he twirled his kusarigama in his hands.
“Just having a little fun babe, I didn’t mean to butt in.” He grinned as the tattoos on his body swirled and writhed, almost as if the designs were coming to life.
“…Did he just call me ‘babe’?” Emiri asked Kira.
“Yeah, I think so,” Kira responded.
“Who the hell do you think I am, betch!” Emiri yelled at Jean.
Zeus had finally gathered himself. He had aged substantially since his first spat with Emiri the previous night. The excessive need to heal had caused him to look like he was more in his late twenties than when he first appeared in his mid teens. He decided to take advantage of their argument and leave; Kay El was probably in serious need of medical help after Emiri threw him in front of a bus.
“Hey! You can’t leave!” Jean yelled as Zeus darted away. “Get back here you pansy!”
***
“Que o inferno bundão! Just because I’m from a country in Latin America doesn’t make me a Latino!” Da Sombras yelled at Gauron.
“Oh come on. You know I’ve only got love for you homie!” Gauron said.
“Cópula tu!” Da Sombras yelled as his eyes began burning a fierce white.
“Gentlemen, please,” Landon Blaken interrupted, as a disgusted look came over his face. “We’ve spent such a long time planning this. Getting all the pieces in order. And now that we’re so close to the freaking key to eternal life, you bozos wanna go and fall apart at the seams like this?” Landon shook his head for a moment as he let that sink into their heads.
Recurring characters
Keith Douglas – Kdawg
Allen Black – Alastour
Bruce Herman – Bherman
Jean Pierrot – pierrot-le-fou
Hei – Hei (Darker than Black)
Huang – Huang (DtB)
Mao – Mao (DtB)
Vicious – Vicious (Cowboy Bebop)
Legato – Legato Bluesummers (Trigun)
Kay El – KagomesLover
Zeus – Zeus
Angel – mgangel
Samson – MasterSamson
Hikki – Kohikki
Spice – Spice
Clarice – Queen
Kira Izuru – Kira Izuru (Bleach)
Emiri – Boxers
Da Sombras – Shadowstaarr
Gauron – Gauron (Full Metal Panic!)
Landon Blaken – Blahcanbespanish
New Characters:
Stripper Yoko – Yoko (Gurren Lagann)
Bartender Kittan – Kittan (Gurren Lagann)
Spilling and breaking, the ocean waves rippled towards shore with the swell. Clashing against the rocks close to the pier, a fine spray erupted into the air, making the seagulls complain as they were doused with the cold salty water.
Sitting at the end of the pier was Allen Black, sprawled out in a folding chair eating a hotdog and basking in the bright midday sun. The cool breeze was refreshing since he wasn’t wearing his usual stuffy suit, dressed only in some beat-up jeans and a plain white shirt and a pair of flip-flops.
Keith shook his head as he approached his oblivious and tacky casual partner, feeling overdressed as he pressed up the rickety old pier in a crème colored suit and white dress shoes.
“So how’s the wife?” Keith asked, patting his friend on the back as he sat down next to him in another folding chair.
“She’s ok, I guess… she hates you… which in turn makes her hate me… so I’d have to say that all is usual on the home front.” Al chuckled.
“Ugh… sounds brutal.”
“Tell me about it.” Al sighed as he stuffed the rest of the hotdog in his mouth. “So you up for the day or what?” he said, still chewing.
“Of course, Bruce already phoned back. He’s going to meet us there at seven.” Keith smiled at his genius. “Don’t forget that while we’re having fun we gotta actually do work, Al. So don’t hit the long island iced teas first thing.”
“No sweat, dawg.” Al chuckled again.
“I know Q gave us this little weekend off where we don’t have to do any work; and it’s great, I’ve actually got a couple decent nights of sleep, but I just wanna get that little heads up on things, yah know? By the way… what’s your favorite Kevin Costner movie of all time, and Field of Dreams doesn’t count? Go!”
“Uh…**bleep**, putting me on the spot like this… I’d have to say OpenRange.”
“See! Thank you Al, you’re a good friend.”
“What brought that on?”
“Ah, this chick I’m dating, she’s drivin’ me up the wall.”
“She’s driving you up the wall because of Kevin Costner?”
“Well, you could say that… it’s complicated,” Keith said, checking his pockets. “Ah crap, you don’t mind if we go by the station real quick?”
“Nah, man. S’cool with me,” he replied as they got up to leave.
“Oh hey, we got some visitors watching us from that barrier over there. See em’… we should totally do some fruity stuff to mess with em’.” Keith chuckled as Al turned his head slightly to see two awkward looking guys randomly standing around the boardwalk with a dark cat at their feet.
--------
“Dude, this is the gayest thing ever. We’re at the freaking beach, watching two dudes on the pier!” Huang ranted as he leaned against the concrete barrier and gazed out at the beauties sunning themselves on the sand. “Even you haft admit this is messed up Hei… nah, you probably like watching men, don’t you, you gross **bleep**.”
“Huang, you didn’t have to come along. Me and Mao could have kept track of them easily enough,” Hei said calmly as he dozed off slightly.
“There’s no hope for you man. Something, anything is better than this torture… wait… wtf is this?” Huang said, distressed. “Did… did they just rub their noses together! Wtf?!?!”
“Did you ever consider that they might have spotted you, and simply done the act to irritate you?” the cat said blankly.
Huang had a pale look on his face as he looked back up to see Keith and Al dying of laughter.
“Remember Sun Tzu, Huang, ‘Attack him where he is unprepared.’ By playing into his trap, you’ve merely given him a glimpse into your own faults,” the dark cat continued as he began to walk away. “This man you’ve been following is no fool, Hei. We should have stayed in the car, out of his sight.”
“I tend to agree, Mao,” Hei said indifferently as he started walking toward the car.
Huang was about to shout in frustration, but he sighed and followed them.
***
Bruce Herman had always hated working construction out in the baking sun. The sunny heat melted away at Bruce, and made him thirsty, which was why he was so thrilled when his old buddy Keith had called and asked if he wanted to go out for some drinks. It was the end of summer; he had to do some partying to celebrate the reconstruction of his home.
It was roughly the same size as his last house, but with more modifications than the previous zoning laws would allow. In a sense, the destruction of his home was the best excuse in the world for him to rebuild the place exactly like he wanted it. He had been thinking about doing it before but he knew Sarah wouldn’t let him. Bruce was very grateful to all the people that had helped him out along the way. Especially his neighbors who had taken the couple in while Bruce was rebuilding their house.
This party was like a treat for Bruce. Something that would prove to him that, hey, you know it wasn’t all for nothing. You can still have fun, in the face of responsibility. For now he just wanted to get back in the swing of things, take some notes on some good booze and enjoy some good food in the company of his friends.
“So you never told me?” Bruce yelled across the house at Jean, who was installing a sliding glass door, “You wanna come tonight or what?”
“Sure man, I’d love to break it at Hannah’s. You know me, I’m down for whatever,” Jean said as he started putting in the lining.
“Cool, um, you got anything nicer to wear than that jacket?”
“What’s wrong with my jacket?”
“Umm… nothing… it’s just, you know, you kinda look like a thug.”
“What?” Jean yelled. He could barely hear him over the noise the drill was making as he connected the brackets.
“Eh, never mind.” Bruce shook his head as he went back to moving heavy objects around the house. “As if wearing a nice shirt is going to make people look past those tattoos.”
“What yah say!?”
“Nothin’!” Bruce yelled back. “Just watch the enamel!”
***
The station precinct was a second home to Keith. He enjoyed the constant chatter of activity in the station and the smell of stale coffee and random mixes of food that wafted from the kitchen into the detectives’ floor. He especially loved his new office; it had that “new car” kinda smell to it; as well as a nice rich mahogany desk and matching leather rolling seats. When he had first seen the seats, Keith jumped into one and spun around in it until he got dizzy and fell over.
It was all the more disappointing to him when he walked into his office to find Inspector Lunge kicking back in one of his rolling chairs and going through some of his case files. “Oh great,” Keith thought, “now I have to burn my chairs.”
“Hi!” Keith said, feigning a cheery tone.
“Hello, Detective 1st Grade Keith Douglas,” Lunge said, typing slowly in the air with his fingers. “I must say, I admire your dedication to come in on a day off from work,” he said as Keith moved around to the other side of his desk and opened a drawer, revealing a large bottle of Jose Cuervo.
“Oh don’t worry about me and my dedication,” Keith said, pulling out the bottle of tequila. “I take 9 to 5 very seriously,” he said as he started walking back out of his office.
“Do you take some sort of vain pleasure in trying to infuriate me, Detective Douglas?” Lunge said with a somewhat perturbed look on his face.
“Interesting…” Keith pondered, “The fact that you’re surprised by Mr. Cuervo here means that your little agents aren’t shadowing me that well.” Keith chuckled and looked back at Lunge. “I wonder if you’re doing it intentionally… losing track of me in hopes that something unexpected might happen. Is that about right, Inspector?”
“Hmm, that’s a very interesting theory, Detective Douglas. What’s next in that theory of yours? Blame me for your little misfortune you had with those two ruffians? Please,” Lunge said, swiveling around in Keith’s chair. “As much peace of mind as it might give you to blame me for your transgressions, you’ve only brought it all on yourself, you haggard crook.”
“You can’t prove that,” Keith rebuked him as he felt the stubble on his face, feeling a bit hurt to be called haggard.
“I don’t have to!” Lunge glared at him. “All I have to do is look at the way you clear cases. You’re as crooked as they get, Detective Douglas. And the only thing that burns me more is that I can’t prove it because I’m contained by the same rules you ignore and trample over.”
Keith shrugged and thumbed his nose. “Well you know… win some lose some never really worked out for me.” Keith laughed and walked back out of his office, leaving Lunge to stew at the foot of his desk.
Lunge had become very quiet, almost expressionless. He sat back down in Keith’s rolling chair very quietly and furrowed his brow. “You’re quite the intriguing criminal, detective. Very intriguing indeed.”
-------
“So how’d that go?” Al asked as Keith came out into the lobby.
“I got him right where I want him.” Keith shrugged.
“Yeah and where’s that?”
“Right behind me with my pants down by my ankles, but it’s a start,” Keith said, taking a deep breath for air.
“Dawg, the imagery… you gotta hold up on it.” Al shook his head as they went down the lobby.
“Oooh! Q’s here!” Keith cheered as he obnoxiously jumped over a desk and ran to Q’s office.
“I swear you’re a child,” Al sighed as he trudged after Keith.
-------
Q was leaning back in her comfy armchair. She closed her eyes as she kneaded her forehead, trying to massage out the headache that was slowly working its way back to the base of her skull. It had been a rough day; there had still been very little immediate help at the federal level after the riots, which had forced her to bear the full burden the riots had created. The job was slowly wearing down on her, forcing her to play her Iz albums just to get through the rest of the day.
As she opened her eyes, she couldn’t help but laugh as she saw Keith pressing his face up against the glass making faces and gritting up her clean windows. The smile quickly faded as her eyes fell on another report. It seemed as though Ozzal’s Echelon forces had had yet another rough night. By the count it was two dead bodies recovered. One just outside the Cathedral in Orly, a man identified only as Vicious. The other wasn’t even identifiable; the man’s body had been crushed in a most peculiar way, almost as if his body and been **bleep** inwards by some black hole. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
As Q looked back up, she saw Keith had taken the time to smudge writing into her window. “I… rule… you…” she said aloud. “I’m going to strangle him one of these days.” She grimaced as her face met her palm.
***
The scent of cinnamon and fresh bread had taken over Café de l’Argeno. Hikki Follet had been on a robotic mission, getting up early to start the prep work for the dough, and continuing his manic baking spree well into the afternoon. It was the only way he figured he could deal with the terror he had witnessed last night. It was the only way he could keep himself distracted from Spice, who was wide awake and cheery as ever, despite what she had done.
-------
After closing the bakery the previous night, they had all gone to the warehouse to check on Spice and the others that were taking refuge in there. They brought baskets of fresh bread and pastries for them to eat, since Clarice was sure that they might be starving. It wasn’t long after they arrived that the doors to the warehouse flew open, and that man stormed in.
He was a monster dressed in white, with a skull resting on his left shoulder and a row of spikes on his right. His blue hair shimmered in the moonlight as his rich, all-encompassing golden eyes stared them all down. “Greetings,” the tall man in white said. “Can anyone tell me where Spice is?”
His words were chilling, calm and direct. Hikki was surprised as Samson began shouting at the man, “Who the hell are you! What are you doing here?!” It was a silly question of rage, Hikki thought in retrospect, but the man humored him.
“I am Legato Bluesummers, and I am here to reclaim Spice.” Legato crooked his head at Samson, letting his bright golden eyes melt into Samson’s brain.
Hikki was preparing to defend himself against the man, at all costs. He wouldn’t let Samson or Clarice get hurt either. But just as he reached for a cookie cutter to attack the man with, the strangest thing happened… He thought he had heard Spice laugh.
Suddenly a petite hand combed through Legato’s blue hair. His gaze fell off of Samson as his eyes suddenly opened wide with fright.
“You’re a cute one, you know.” Spice giggled as she draped her arms around the petrified man, rubbing his neck and chest.
“What is this? Why are you like this… why do you have the presence of my master? You are not a superior being!” Legato yelled.
“Maybe, but I’m definitely superior to you,” she growled as she pressed her hands on his stomach.
--------
Hikki didn’t want to reflect on it anymore. It was far too gruesome to remember the way the man started gargling up blood, and Spice’s wicked screams of glee as her eyes glazed over and she began crushing the man down.
He had been bruising the dough; he needed to concentrate. But there was so much more to do. “Zpice! Get ze buns from ze oven for me!” Hikki yelled absentmindedly, not thinking that Spice was helping Clarice teach Anne. But she kindly did as he asked without question. She was completely different from the demon they saw last night; she was the old Spice. The slightly peeved but always cheerful Spice they knew for so long. Hikki just hoped it lasted.
***
The night was hot on the streets. The air was thick and Keith could feel his hair dampening from sweat. The humidity was making it almost unbearable to stay outside and Al was complaining about getting thirsty. It was going to be a good night for the bars.
Hannah’s was an interesting choice for their meeting. The place was noisy and bright; it was also incredibly busy and writhing with activity. But Bruce had insisted that it was one of the best places in Actonia to come down and unwind, and it would act as the perfect mask for Keith’s plan. He also insisted that the shows the girls put on were some of the best in town.
Keith saw instantly as he came through the doors that Bruce hadn’t lied. His eyes immediately met a breathtaking young redhead dressed in a revealing bikers’ jacket and bikini top with matching flame patterns. He watched her for close to a minute as she danced and swayed on that pole, never once taking his eyes off her. Keith almost passed out as she gave him a wink.
“Keith!” Keith heard a roar from behind him. Swiveling his head, Keith saw the gigantic Bruce Herman waving at him from a table close to the bar along with another guy who was preoccupied with a girl’s performance.
“So that’s where we’re sitting.” Al shrugged as he practically had to drag the salivating Keith towards the table.
--------
“Hey you know it smells like stale beer in here.” Al sniffed.
“Yeah, that’s cause this is an actual bar. If you wanna smell candles and hair gel, go down to Bungalow 87 with the rest of the posers,” Jean said as he began pouring their mugs.
“Hey, d’you guys eat something before you joined us?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, we had a couple burgers before we got here.” Keith nodded.
“Perfect, that’s good to have some food in your belly. This way when the puking starts, you’ll have something to heave up other than the lining of your stomach,” Jean continued.
“All that and other pointers to come boys!” Bruce laughed as he took a swig from his mug.
“Well I don’t mean to burst your bubble guys, but I’m pretty experienced at this kinda stuff, so no pointers necessary.” Al chuckled as he took his first sip.
“Ha, experienced beer **bleep** maybe,” Jean teased.
“Hey now, I’m no beer **bleep**! Okay, pal,” Al insisted.
“What the hell is a beer **bleep**?” Keith asked.
“Yeah, what is that anyway?” Al echoed.
“A beer **bleep** is one of those guys that talks a good game, then he has a couple a drinks and he starts getting all mushy on you, and going ‘hey man, I love you bro, I love you so much’. Then when you have a few more beers they grab you by the shoulder and start crying about how such a great guy yah are.” Jean demonstrated by grabbing Bruce’s shoulder, “Oh, Bruce you’re so awesome man!”
“Hey man, I’m no beer **bleep**! I’ll take you on at drinking!”
“Pssh, we’ll see.”
“You know what I say, I say we stop the idiocy and get down to doing some damage,” Bruce said as he raised his glass.
“Yeah!” Al shouted, raising his mug.
“Hear! Hear!” Jean agreed.
“Cheers guys!” Keith said as he downed his glass.
***
Samson brushed his teeth every night before bed. He found it was one of the few things that would mentally numb him enough from the visual assault of Hikki and his gaudy pink robe. Tonight was different though. He had things on his mind. Clarice had been avoiding him all day, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. His mind raced as he got in bed and fluffed his pillow, completely absent as he tried to gather his brains around why she would treat him like a ghost. Even when Hikki raced into bed and sexually harassed him, he was clocked out, not even in it with him.
“Hey!” Hikki waved his hand in Samson’s face. “What ees wrong my zweet Chu? You know you can tell me,” Hikki said, slightly concerned.
“It’s… it’s Clarice.”
“Eh! What haz zat leetle she-devil done to my Samson!?!” Hikki shouted as he pulled a rolling pin out of nowhere.
“No, nothing, it’s just…” Samson sighed.
“Go on.”
“Hikki, I… I love Clarice. But I don’t know if she loves me.”
“Zo zat ees what has you down.” Hikki laughed. “I wouldn’t worry about eet. She loves you too my leetle heartbreakair,” he said, pinching Samson’s cheek.
“Wait… you’re taking this rather well. I thought you’d have been upset if we had this conversation.”
“No, eet eez only naturelle, Samson. I only keed weez you and Clarice. I already know truly zat you weel nevair love me as Argeno and I loved, but I am fine weez zees.” Hikki rolled over in bed. “Why don’t you go zpeak weez hair now before she goes to zleep.”
“But I thought that…”
“Samson, ze sleeping arrangementz I made wair only to keep you two from doing zomezing you might regret. Clearly we’ve moved past zat now.” Hikki smiled. “Now go before I change my mind!”
“Yes sir!” Samson leapt out of bed and down the hall. He was going to tell Clarice how he felt, even if it killed him.
Back in Hikki’s room, a single teardrop rained down Hikki’s cheek. “I have been zo zelfish, Argeno.” he said quietly, closing his eyes and falling to sleep.
***
Eight pitchers of booze later…
“Dude, I just gotta say man… I like you man… we should be like, friends and stuff!” Al said, reaching out blindly and patting around for Jean’s shoulder.
“What’d I tell yah,” Jean whispered at Bruce.
“This isn’t good. He’s reached level 2 in record time.” Bruce shook his head.
“Hey man, there’s no levels, at least I don’t think there are… whoa.” Keith cut himself off as he saw that knockout at the end of the bar.
The others turned to see, and also dropped their jaws.
“A+ to the observant man in the white suit,” Bruce commented with a happy smile on his face.
“Hey man, she’s a real prize. You should go talk to her,” Jean encouraged.
“Yeah but isn’t she a stripper?” Al said as Jean kicked him under the table.
“Hey, watch how you talk about the ladies!” Jean yelled at Al.
“Yeah, whatsa matta wit you, huh? You wouldn’t know a lady if she sat on your face… Jackass,” Keith said as he elbowed Al.
“So what if she’s a stripper anyway, she’s cute! And if she’s sitting at the bar, maybe she wants someone to talk to?” Jean theorized.
“Yeah, but I dunno,” Keith slurred.
“Hey, hey, now it’s like an unspoken rule, that if you get really drunk and you see a chick you like, you gotta go and be daring and try and have the crazy ‘meet a chick at the bar’ type pick up,” Bruce said.
“Go get her, buddy!” Jean cheered as Keith picked himself up.
---------
Keith got up from the table, not feeling his legs. He felt like he was gliding on air, as if on a cloud that marched him directly toward that knockout in a pretty blue summer dress.
“Hi there… um?” Keith fished for her name as he sat down in the barstool next to her.
“Angel,” she said seductively, smiling at Keith and flipping her hair.
“An Angel, huh? That’s a very pretty name, Angel…” Keith smiled at her as he touched her thigh. She let his fingers explore her waist, until she realized too late what it was he was looking for. “The Syndicate sure does know how to toss bait at somebody,” Keith said, a little disappointed as he let his eyes fall away from hers as he pulled a hidden pistol out from her dress.
Angel had a distressed look on her face, and felt feverish as she suddenly realized how disastrous things had just become. Her eyes darted to find Hei in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t freak out,” Keith said softly, meeting her eyes once again. “I’m not here to start any trouble with you people. I just wanna talk,” he said as he slid the small pistol under a napkin and pushed it under her hand. “A girl like you has got to be able to protect herself after all.”
“So what do you want to talk about?” Angel asked, her tone was more serious than before.
“Well, nothing in particular with you. Don’t get me wrong, you’re attractive enough, but I have my eyes set a little higher, you know, about eye level in height, dancing on that pole over there,” he said, pointing at the girl that had made his heart explode in his chest earlier.
“Oh, you mean Yoko? She’s not in the Syndicate though, she just works here.”
“Perfect!” Keith exclaimed as he held his hand up to attract the dirty blond bartender’s attention. “Hey there, Mr…. uh, Kittan is it? I’d like to get a white Russian and another of whatever this lady’s having.”
“Just a cream soda please, Kittan,” Angel said, smiling at the hawt blond bartender.
“Coming right up,” Kittan replied.
“So… where is the mystery man that’s been following me all day?” Keith asked Angel.
“To be honest, I’m not completely sure. He is here though.”
“Well if you see or hear from him in the next five minutes, tell him I’m going to the bathroom. Now smack me once real good across the-“ Angel smacked him so hard he fell out of his seat.
Keith got up, and shivered as he felt his jaw. “I guess I shoulda been careful what I asked for,” he said, picking up his drink and walking back towards his table that had erupted in laughter.
---------
“I’m gonna go use the little boys’ room guys, continue without me,” Keith said as he kicked Al’s shoe.
Cruising through the club, his eyes met up with Yoko again. “She’s something else…” Keith thought as he maneuvered his way through the crowd.
The men’s bathroom was surprisingly quiet and unoccupied. It had a very rich, dark feel to it. The walls were a deep shade of forest green with a dark red trim around the sinks and matching burgundy stalls.
Keith headed to the sink to wash up, turning the cold water faucet on. He looked up in the mirror at his face while he let his hands test the water temperature. Lunge wasn’t kidding – he did look tired. He noticed the wrinkles coming in around his eyes as he wiped at the black bags that hung beneath them. Ducking his head to the sink, he started rinsing and scrubbing his face with the cold water, thinking he’d refresh himself somehow.
Grabbing a few paper towels, he looked back in the mirror to see a man standing behind him to his right. The man wore a black trench coat and a white mask with a single blue mark across one eye. Keith wasn’t the least bit surprised that the man could sneak up on him so easily; he was, after all, a contractor.
“So…” Keith started as he finished drying off with the paper towel, “why are you guys following me?” he asked bluntly.
“I was asked by my employer. He seems to be under the impression that you could pose a great deal of harm to the Syndicate,” Hei answered flatly.
“Could I ask you who your employer is?”
“Landon Blaken.”
“Really? That high up, huh? He’s been missing for a year now, I hear. I wonder how he knows about me.”
“He knows that you are a very quickly rising figure in the National Police. He knows that you are one of the best detectives they’ve ever had. He knows that you have an eye and ear in almost every organization in the city. But what he knows even more is that you rose so quickly to your position thanks to the favors you pulled in relation to a one, Major Thomas Taredan. Whom I attacked and nearly defeated just last night.”
“What I did for Taredan is ancient history. It’s history that I’m not proud of, but it got me kicked up the ladder. It got me a position where I could do more than just sit back and take what they fed me.” Keith stopped himself. “But I do want to make up for that,” Keith added.
They both stood staring at each other for a while in silence. “Not much else to say, huh?”
“I wasn’t told to converse with you. I was told to watch you. And that is exactly what I’m doing.”
“Well, I wish you the best of luck with it then. I must be becoming quite a celebrity being followed around by internal affairs and the Syndicate.”
“IA security is a joke. Other than Roger Smith, they’ve barely even been able to keep up with you, much less monitor your actions.”
“Hmm, well that’s good to know. Hopefully they won’t recognize me when I go out and make a fool of myself.” Keith grinned as he downed his white Russian.
---------
“You’ve wanted to do this all night, buddy,” Keith said to himself as he emerged from the quiet bathroom into the loud music and bright lights of the bar. Slinking his way past a crowd of people, and through the seats surrounding the stage, Keith got a massive applause from the crowd as he jumped up onto the stage. Although a bit tipsy and worried that he might have startled Yoko, he started to feel the music and let his shoulders sway as he grooved closer to her.
His moment with Yoko hadn’t lasted long. He was quickly tossed into the back room by two bouncers, and it wasn’t until Bruce came to the back and got him out of there that Keith finally realized what had happened… he got a kiss on the cheek.
***
The group started out of Hannah’s in a massive tumbling tower. Apparently they thought their combined manliness would hold them upright as they stumbled down the Actonia streets as they sang about the raiders of the autumn wind.
“Hey! Hey! Who was that chick you was dancing with at the end there, heh?” Al slurred as he began leaning harder on Keith.
“Ah, you noticed that! I didn’t know you could see me while you were passed out on the table,” Keith chuckled as Jean and Bruce laughed in turn.
Just then the fun was interrupted by a loud clash, followed by Emiri flying straight through a concrete wall, quickly followed by Kira.
“What the heck?” Keith blinked. He was sure he had seen this woman before. “Hey! I know you, don’t I?”
Emiri’s eyes darted to the group as she charged at them “Get down!!!” Emiri screamed as she and Kira both used all their force to shove the group backwards.
It wasn’t a moment too soon, as Zeus was already on top of them. He slammed his wickedly pointed mace into the ground, sending out a shockwave of energy that took everyone off their feet.
“Is everybody all right?” Emiri asked as she helped Keith and Al to their feet.
“What kind of question is that?” Jean started chuckling. “I don’t know about the rest of you. But I didn’t think I’d get to have this much fun in one night!” Jean screamed as some incredible bloodlust took control of him. His eyes began glowing blue as they opened wide with excitement; he ripped his jacket off of his body and howled with glee. In a matter of seconds Zeus’s left shoulder was cut open. Blood flew high into the air as Zeus was staggered by the blow.
Zeus stumbled backwards as he gripped his shoulder. In an instant the wound was beginning to heal.
“Dammit **bleep**! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Emiri yelled at Jean as he twirled his kusarigama in his hands.
“Just having a little fun babe, I didn’t mean to butt in.” He grinned as the tattoos on his body swirled and writhed, almost as if the designs were coming to life.
“…Did he just call me ‘babe’?” Emiri asked Kira.
“Yeah, I think so,” Kira responded.
“Who the hell do you think I am, betch!” Emiri yelled at Jean.
Zeus had finally gathered himself. He had aged substantially since his first spat with Emiri the previous night. The excessive need to heal had caused him to look like he was more in his late twenties than when he first appeared in his mid teens. He decided to take advantage of their argument and leave; Kay El was probably in serious need of medical help after Emiri threw him in front of a bus.
“Hey! You can’t leave!” Jean yelled as Zeus darted away. “Get back here you pansy!”
***
“Que o inferno bundão! Just because I’m from a country in Latin America doesn’t make me a Latino!” Da Sombras yelled at Gauron.
“Oh come on. You know I’ve only got love for you homie!” Gauron said.
“Cópula tu!” Da Sombras yelled as his eyes began burning a fierce white.
“Gentlemen, please,” Landon Blaken interrupted, as a disgusted look came over his face. “We’ve spent such a long time planning this. Getting all the pieces in order. And now that we’re so close to the freaking key to eternal life, you bozos wanna go and fall apart at the seams like this?” Landon shook his head for a moment as he let that sink into their heads.
Recurring characters
Keith Douglas – Kdawg
Allen Black – Alastour
Bruce Herman – Bherman
Jean Pierrot – pierrot-le-fou
Hei – Hei (Darker than Black)
Huang – Huang (DtB)
Mao – Mao (DtB)
Vicious – Vicious (Cowboy Bebop)
Legato – Legato Bluesummers (Trigun)
Kay El – KagomesLover
Zeus – Zeus
Angel – mgangel
Samson – MasterSamson
Hikki – Kohikki
Spice – Spice
Clarice – Queen
Kira Izuru – Kira Izuru (Bleach)
Emiri – Boxers
Da Sombras – Shadowstaarr
Gauron – Gauron (Full Metal Panic!)
Landon Blaken – Blahcanbespanish
New Characters:
Stripper Yoko – Yoko (Gurren Lagann)
Bartender Kittan – Kittan (Gurren Lagann)