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Not terrible
#41
Yun got two calls. One disturbance in her territory on the police band, and a second call from her men out in the parking lot. A fight had broken out. While not totally unusual in this neighborhood.

She was outside just as the kid started hurling fireballs. Now this was in interesting bit of information. Yun just had to figure out a way to get him under her thumb. He was a nobody - not worth anything other than as an informant - and one of these Ascendants.

And the new Russian in town, he was out there too. Yun stayed out of the way as she made her way to the radio and sent a false report back. "All handled here. Under control."

No one would question her, mostly because no one really cared about this neighborhood. And Yun was a good cop. But she wanted to see where this all went. How it played out. The bodies could be dealt with easily enough. There were enough gang fights in the area. And every one of these guys probably had a rap sheet a mile long.
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#42
He needed those Japs alive. At least one of the three, actually. But it would make his life hell if two of the three Yakuza perished on his watch. It would probably translate into some sort of sleight of honor or other bullshit.

The first flare of fire whipped his attention in the kid's direction. The dagger in the night was... the kid. Ryker grit his teeth and pat his pockets for his knife.

But it wasn't there. Luckily, the one that sliced his favorite coat was abandoned. Its owner lay in a puddle of blood. He scooped it up, doffed his coat since it was ruined anyway, and braced for the flare to come.

He drank in the power that sprang to life amid the pain. That glorious power pulsed his veins even as they dripped their contents down his wrist.

He walked forward, summoning fire and death. As the russians fell, others turned in a rage to confront the new attacker. He wrenched the guns from their hands with the flick of a wrist, a grin blossoming from the ridges of his face.

Unlike the kid, he wanted this to end quickly. His arm was fire, but fading. Time grew short.

Two wise russians ran for their lives. Bodies were slumped at the feet of the three Yakuza. Ragged, but standing.

Ryker shared a look with the kid as he came closer, measuring the sense of his power as he did. It was meager, but deadly all the same. He would not turn his back, but it explained the cockiness from the bar.

Maybe it was some strange sense of comraderie, or the sharing of the blood of battle, but he offered the kid the courtesy of not telling him to fuck off, and instead he presented himself before the Yakuza.

"You are alright?"
He asked, just as a hand clamped on his ankle. He turned, growled at the dying russian. With a spike of air summoned to his hand, he fell with all his weight and plunged it into his chest.

When he stood again, he swiped the dirt from his pants and checked for more life that needed extinguished. Finding none, he curled his arm close and clamped his other hand around the wound.

"It would be my honor to escort you to your destination as repayment for this debacle, Sato san."


He held the older man's gaze firmly. The words were spoken, but the request was non-negotiable.

He kept an eye on the kid as he did, unsure of his game in all this.
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#43
Even more curious. Yun watched as the Russian weild the deadly power of these so-called Ascendants with deadly accuracy. She smiled at her fortunate turn of events.

Here Yun was blackmailing good cops into her service when there were two upstanding individuals already heading down the dark path. No corruption needed. Though Sarkozy would be far more beneficial in his official capacity. Like his father there were things he could do the criminal element couldn't.

But there was an army being built by the government - Yun was sure of that. Where, when or how she didn't know but she knew with these powers there were camps teaching them. She needed to keep her advantage.

Ryker was cozy with the Yakuza. That could go wrong any moment. The slights of honor such a downer. But he seemed to navigate the pitfalls well. She'd have to watch him more. Yun signaled for one of her men to follow him, but not to interact. She was going to have to play this all right.
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#44
Mik sent a few more fireballs in the direction of the asshats attacking the Yakuza. Scarface seemed to be doing alright. So Mik watched, bright smile playing across his lips as his eyes danced over the chaos before him.

In his mind, the lady behind the veil watched with him. He could almost feel the anticipation building. Soon. Very soon. He would wade into this in a moment. To the feel the raw fight, the perfect expression of life- only clear in the face of death- the struggle and the grandeur and whatever else it was that made the world as vibrant and meaningful- to him anyway. The great game of life and death and order and chaos. Where it meant nothing and everything all at once.

He wasn't sure which side he'd choose, then. The Yakuza would almost certainly destroy the Kolos, especially after this. And that had been the game, what he and everyone else waited for.

But after everything that had happened tonight- the inevitability of it all, the fall of a family, tipping slowly like a massive piller, seeming to drift down until it hit the ground with a crash- it suddenly seemed so boring an outcome. He hated Kolos. But he liked the mess.

The Yakuza's, however- at least this branch of them- if they were beaten by the Kolos, though....well, that could be interesting indeed. He almost laughed at the thought. Everyone waiting for the fall, waiting and waiting and waiting....and somehow the Kolo's miraculously survive and cause more trouble. Everyone losing their bets, scrambling to figure out what it all meant. Now that would be funny.

Course, he'd have to take care of Scarface too. Not that he wanted to kill him. He didn't really kill, not unless he had to. But he could tilt things slightly back into the Kolo's and gopnik's favor.

Idly, he wondered what had happened to Dollface. He would have liked to see her reaction to all this.

And then something made his smile drop, eyes squint hard and he looked about. He felt a sense of dread, a heaviness in the air, like someone was standing over him. He traced the feeling and realized it was coming from Scarface, blood dripping from his hand.

And men were dying. He could see the threads flying about, bringing death.

Mik stifled the desire to swallow, instead putting up his grinning delightfully surprised face. Thank god he hadn't acted. The man was strong. His heart raced. Shit! He could almost imagine the goddess smiling at him wickedly, eyebrow raised, as if to say, 'Come now Mik, you did say you liked games....'

And then he did smile broadly, mentally tipping his head. Ah but the universe was amazing. She held all the delights, tempting him; a lover's caress at his cheek and neck; a hand, ready to rip his throat out at a moment's notice. And he loved it so.

Scarface had finished everyone off, the last in a pretty spectacular way. Mik laughed as he sauntered up to the guy, nodding approvingly, a genuine smile on his face.

Poor Yakuza's looked like they'd been hit between the eyes. The old man stammered out a reply, his voice breathy. The two guards stared at them warily but made no move to stop Scarface.

And for his part, Scarface was no longer acting like a royal dick itching for a fight. Which was to say, he didn't mouth off. Not that that worried him. He'd faced men stronger than him before and was always able to get out of problems without too much pain being involved.

The game tonight was more than he'd expected, even without Dollface at his side.

He hoped it got even better too.


Edited by Mikhail, May 9 2018, 08:15 PM.
"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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#45
The kid slipped alongside, a grin licking his lips for the corpse at their feet. Ryker was less enamored by the execution, finding the violence distasteful, albeit necessary. So the kid derived some sick pleasure from the slaughter. That some sociopathic streak bled through the kid was surprising, a surprise that Ryker found rather irritating. He liked to think of himself as an excellent judge of character: and he misjudged this boy. Perhaps there was potential behind the apparently useless meatsuit street-thug. Ryker had few men of muscle at his call beyond himself. Maybe Yun knew who he was.

Meanwhile, the Japanese needed addressed. They were regrouping but understandably shaken. "Come with me,"
he led them to safety, but not before passing a curious glance at Yun herself. She was another successful point of contact out of the night. Even leaving the street in a river of blood, she covered for them. A fascinating woman. His own smile leered for a brief, flickering moment, before it was gone completely.
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#46
As the Yakuza left with Ryker and his gazed passed over her she winked at him. A promise they'd see each other again - hopefully sooner rather than later, but only time would tell.

Yun sighed as she looked around at the mass of bodies. She made a quick phone call. "I need ..."
Yun counted the bodies. "about 15 patties in individual bags at the Hole in the Wall. And I'm willing to pay for a few extras if necessary so make sure you bring enough to cover Kolos."


Yun left Piere to do the supervising and she and the rest left. It had been an eventful night. But she had other plans for the night. There were things to learn and understand. So much to understand.
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