BZPRPG - Ta-Wahi

[Constructelf]

IC Turo

One of the Guard's officers had actually gone to the trouble of climbing up one of Turo's roosting sites and dragging him down from it. While Turo was still asleep (he was woken up by hitting his head on the wall when the officer was climbing down). The officer had droned on and on about how "he needed to kick the habit", how "if you slept more at night, this wouldn't happen" and how "lax behavior will not be tolerated while on duty".

 

Turo wasn't even on duty.

 

Well, it was the aftermath of a total fiasco, but still. If Turo had the mind to do so, he would have ranted about " worker's rights" and how he was entitled to "an hour of rest for every four (or something) worked in a day". But, it would have just tired him out even more, so now, he was sitting on gate guard duty, staring at the nearest timepiece, waiting for this shift to end.

 

One of the people walking through-a female Ta-Toa (Saeva)-suddenly threw up her arms and yelled " I'm back" or something to that effect. Turo just sighed from the stack of crates he was crouching on (at least thry let him have that; Turo hated being on solid ground) and droned: "Yeah, yeah; whatever. Go speak-talk that to somebody interested. Have anything to declare?"

Edited September 23, 2014 by namcurtsnoC

[Razgriz]

IC: "Is that what passes for treespeak these days?" he muttered to himself under his breath, eyes narrowing. "You've gotta be kidding me. I've been away from home for way too long."

Edited September 23, 2014 by Uncle Chael P. Sonnen

[Constructelf]

IC Turo

Turo just sat on his crate, watching the two.

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

"Very well. I shall acquiesce to your demands."

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

"Wuss."

 

"Uh, what?"

"What, d'you need your ears checked? Wu-uss. Wuss-wuss. Wussycat."

 

"...You do know where this spear is, right? Like, within an inch of your side? About to freakin' stab you?"

 

"But it didn't, did it?"

"Well, not yet. That's about to change--"

 

"--Nup. It ain't."

 

"Oh, do tell--"

 

"Ho-ho! Almost got me with that poke there, didn'tcha! Scawwy!"

 

"Stop moving."

 

"A'ight, wuss."

 

"Says the guy who just ducked the flat of the blade."

 

"Says the guy who won't carry through."

 

"Oh, so killing you makes me brave? Don't worry, then, Grokk, I just know I left my courage around here somewhere--"

 

"Nah nah nah, you still don't geddit. You don't kill me, you're obviously a wuss... You do kill me, you're still a wuss."

 

"Yeah, I 'don't geddit,' you got me. Forgive me for ending my, ah, confusion with a decisive--"

 

"Confused, that's the phrase I wanted, that's what you are."

 

"...Confused. The guy with the spear pointed at the shoddy remnants of your liver is confused."

 

"He looks pretty confused to me. Sky-guy, mantel chick, firepants - they somehow have even less idea what's goin' on in that ticker of yours than you do."

 

"Jealous?"

"Of that crowd? Not exactly my type. You're not stabbing me."

 

"So you are jealous."

 

"Grow up."

 

"...I'm sorry, give me another few minutes to catch my breath. What?"

 

"Again, you and your ears--"

"You. You are telling me to grow up. You, the guy who has nothing better to do than break into my place with a, a confetti cannon. You're telling me to grow up."

 

"Yyyyup."

 

"Don't quite follow your logic on that one. Who's the one with an apartment? With a girlfriend--"

"--Is that how you'd classify Sky-guy? Gender roles are so interesting--"

 

"--With a girlfriend, with a job, with goddamn friends. Do you have an apartment, Grokk? Do you have a girlfriend, or a job, or friends? You have no friends."

"Never have."

 

"Is that supposed to bother me? Just so you know, it doesn't. I know you were never my friend. I always knew you were scum."

 

"Nah, see, you didn't. Back in the day, you used to look at me like Niffleball over there, you didn't know better. But I'm sure you drink to forget it, and the sorts of stuff you did when you were associatin' with the likes of ol' Grokkie. Remember Xa-Koro? Glug glug?"

 

"Yeah, so what if I do? Doesn't change the fact that you're a worthless, washed-up booze hound. With a bounty on you that I intend to collect--"

 

"--Same bounty's on your head, kid, great plan--"

 

"--and that's the only reason you're still alive, I figure they pay more alive--"

 

"--Tell yourself whatever works. You're still confused."

 

"I know what I want."

 

"You don't. If ya did, I'd already be shish-kagrokk. You've neglected to stab me this whole time, and I mean I know I'm a captivating conversationalist, but that's pretty pathetic."

 

"I'm confused and pathetic? And I need to 'grow up.' I'm actually amazed, Grokk, you're amazing."

 

"That's not news to anybody. You don't know what you want; you're confused; it's pathetic. Glad we've all come to terms with my thesis statement. So I don't have a solid chick, a crash pad, the shackles of employment, flippin' friends, but do I want them? Nah. Did I ever want them? Nah. Maybe you've done your best to black out your rough-n-tumble days, Dor-dor, the days when you were mixed up with the rougher-uppers like yours truly, but I'm sure you know me well enough to know that I'm not lying, that I'm not the sort to wear a people mask and smile and pretend to be okay when I ain't. I don't do that, pearlies are always gen-yoo-ine. I'm legit fine, I've been fine, I'll be fine. Your opinion of me doesn't count for diddly, squiddly; you can bank on that. But that ain't the point. Point is, I know what I want, and I always have. A wise old geezer who I just made up in my noggin once said that 'one of the central tenets of maturity is... knowledge of oneself.' As far as self-knowledge goes, nobody's on my level. To quote a mathematician, a contemporary of that geezer, 'Grokk is Grokk is Grokk.' I'm a constant.

 

"You, meantime, you're an eddy of wind, or something else symbolically, er, wavering. You're confused, you've flipped here and there and back-n-forth on what you want out of this weensy world of ours, and you've fought yourself - the part of you you hate to acknowledge, the part of you who used to snigger with a specifically splendid Skakdi - about it the whole way. You force yourself to change your mind about things and you hurt yourself, and you throw yourself through little doggy hoops and burn yourself, and you can't help spilling your pathetic guts all over the place in the process. You suffer, and you do it because you like to think of yourself as mutable; news flash, buster: you ain't.

 

"Example one: let's say I throw the rock at you. You and me both know you'd want it; strike that, you'd need it. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself. You're prolly thinking about it right now and salivating, pooch. Remember how it could make you feel? Not when it hurt... but when it didn't. Ahhhh, yeahhhh... Felt good, dinnit? Me, I was never on that stuff - I knew I wouldn't like it, yasee, again with the self-knowledge shtick - but you, you couldn't get enough. Why? Helped you escape for a weensey moment from not knowing what you are. And again, pathetic confusion. Dorian, you ain't changed. You come back around wearing cologne distilled from your own farts, because you hate smelling the stink of truth on you. You're a bad person, like me. And just because you like not to think about it don't make it any less real.

 

"How many people have you hurt, Dor-dor? More than have hurt you. How many people have you snuffed out? De-efinitely more than have snuffed out you. How many lies have you told? How many times have you gotten this close to getting better, and then you've lost your nerve? That happens 'cuz you come up against your reflection, this twitchy ugly little demon that finds nothing sexier than evil. I ain't just referring to darkness boy from the jungle. How long were you in the business, having a killer time - killer, hah, geddit? - doing the sorts of things I do, doing 'em right next to your partner in crime, hmm? Difference between you 'n me is smaller than you wanna think. The only one I can see is that I never wear scarves, except ironically... Well, that and the fact that I don't pretend. I don't try to be something I ain't, not like you, ya poser. Girlfriend? So you get less. Job? Less freedom. Friends? They don't get you. You don't let them, because you're too busy tryna be what they wanna see. It's loverly to be who I am. If I was the caring sort, it'd be simply tearing me apart to watch you deny your spirit bunny. Grow up, be yourself, wuss."

[Void Emissary]

IC: Mimira

 

Mimira was giggling from excitement, still feeling the rush of soaring through the air with only a Toa keeping her from falling. She eventually shook her head to answer his question. 

 

"Hey Gunner...if ya ever run across a Toa Stone, could I have it?" She gave him a hopeful look. 

 

IC:

 

"Hey listen," I said, shooting her a grin, "when I'm done being a hard-hitting, high-flying action hero of a loveable rogue, and I decide to go old and stooped and, God knows, wise - " I faked a shiver of revulsion " - I'll give you my Toa stone, 'kay? How's that?"

 

-Void

[25K Now!]

IC: Lasinia

 

"Hey guys can we go get some popcorn? Like seriously. I've got the cravings for popcorn."

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

Mekana sighed. "Thank you." 

 

"Are we there yet?" 

 

IC: Mimira

 

"Woo!" Mimira seemed excited at the promise of a toa stone...even if it was probably in the far, far future. 

 

"I want popcorn too." She exclaimed when she heard the mention of it.

Edited September 24, 2014 by Skitty

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

"Yes."

 

Ophaim pushed the cart through the door to his inn.

[Hitoshura]

IC: Ryzen

 

I turned to Akhulii. "So now that we're here, what do you plan to do?"

[Snelly]

IC: Skyra

 

I'd lost interest in Natharius as soon as he backed to the wall, clearly he was done causing trouble and that was enough for me. He was blabbering on about something but I wasn't listening anymore. I'd started to walk over by Joske and listened to Dorian and Grokk argue with each other about whether or not Dorian was a wuss. 

 

Was Grokk trying to get himself killed? Not that I'd be sad if he was. But Grokk was really egging him on. This could be bad...

Edited September 24, 2014 by Skitty

[Relapse]

IC: (Jarko)

 

"Alright, alright!" the Toa said, beginning down the alley, beckoning Lunefield to field.

[Krayzikk]

NPC IC:

 

"Frankly," The Ta-Matoran Guard growled at Kedamor, flanked by a Pa-Lesterin, also garbed in the uniform of the Ta-Koro Guard. Neither one had assumed a hostile stance, not just yet, but their posture was clearly one of preparedness. "I don't give a Karz what you did or didn't do. Alarm was tripped. That means you're going to get off the premises and hope you keep your nose clean."

 

IC:

 

"Yes, I do. Firstly, I declare that I'm back." The Ta-Toa pretended to count off on her fingers, extending a second as she reached her second point. "Second, I declare that you people did a horrible job here. I leave for a year, and you've gone and remodeled the place. Really inconvenient."

"Third, I declare that you're the laziest Guard I've ever seen. Aren't there rules on that?"

[Banana Gunz]

IC: Akhulii

 

Akhulii was still intimidated, but the gates and lava bridge were up, and he was exhausted beyond belief. Plus, his stomach was growling and those grapes were not fulfilling enough for the time they had spent in the charred forest.

 

He continued forward, though although he wanted to find an inn as fast as possible he did not move too fast and tried to keep pace with Ryzen in case anything crazy happened. After all, this was foreign territory.

 

They crossed the lava bridge, which was a fairly terrifying experience for Akhulii, who found he hated the dratted thing and wondered why the Ta-Koronans would ever enjoy a place like this. All functionality and no decor. What are these koronans planning on doing, starting a war?

 

When they entered the main city Akhulii was take aback. The streets were cluttered and busy and Ta-matoran moved briskly about to attend to personal businesses and jobs. Shops and homes made of cooled lava brick made up most of the main street while the roads were smaller and filled with carts. The place had a strong energy to it, but Akhulii found that he didn't like it. The heat wasn't completely foreign to him, but he found himself slow and lazy when it came to Ga-Koro, and a place like this was an unpleasant mix to him.

 

But he stayed on task. When Ryzen asked his question, he clapped his hands together and looked up to him and said, "Well, this is it. First things first we ought to get to an inn, and food. Definitely food. Again, I don't know how you Ko-toa eat but a Ga-matoran such as myself is always ready for a good meal when they need it! I wonder if they have prepared fish? A fair dish of kuko salmon would do excellently right now!"

 

OOC: And yes, Kuko salmon is made up, but it sounds like something that belongs to Bionicle and I really am no expert on Bionicle fish. 

Edited September 24, 2014 by Banana Gunz

[Razgriz]

IC: Seriously, at least the Gukko force manages to -stay on their feet- at their post. No wonder Ta got hit if this is the kind they've got guardin' the place.

"Remodeled?" he asked, curiosity piqued as fast, sharp eyes flitted about the gate.

[TheMegazordman1]

IC-Kedamor/Tor

 

"Well I would hate to dirty up the place with you so I shall do as you say guard Casa  tor  if you need me say my name i will come to your aid  ."

 

The  rather strange Toa leaves the inn.

Edited September 24, 2014 by TheMegazordman1

[Constructelf]

IC Turo

Turo sighed again. "First, oak-new here; do not know who you are. Second, Ta-Koro looks terrible-bad? Can't be helped. Six skakdi attacked, struck worse than any rama-swarm. Came with great crash-bang, fled ever-quick. Maru came, but past-late; could not stop them. Third, I am Le-Matoran; unlike Fire-spitter, ground-path does not suit me. Happy in high-tree, but Guard insists I walk on the ground. Crates are compromise." Turo continued staring at Saeva and stood up on his crates. "Physical items to declare?"

Edited September 24, 2014 by namcurtsnoC

[Keeper of Kraata]

IC: Casanuva softly clapped his hands together. "Well! This has been an exciting night! If you excuse me, I am going up. To sleep. In my room."

 

He turned on his heel, waving his hand; the silent alarm switch flipped off.

 

When he and Nunonu reached upstairs, there was a cry of outrage.

 

"It's a MATORAN sized queen bed!?

 

 

 

Denrika started some deep breathing. Once she was in a state to talk, she looked at the Ta-Matoran guard. "Thank you for coming so quickly! I... I didn't know what was going to happen."

[Razgriz]

IC: "I think the training broke him. Whatever he's saying, it's not treespeak."

[TheMegazordman1]

Ic-Kedamor/Tor

 

with the loud  yell of outrage Kedamor smirks a bit.

 

"I would not have let anything bad happen to anyone  here you know that Denrika I was a  ta-koro guard at one time remember ."

[Keeper of Kraata]

IC: Denrika straightened herself out, pulled up her chair to the desk, and crossed her legs. "Was being the operative word there."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Nothing worse than telling a d-bag with all his bona fides that he was kind of right...so I didn't tell Grokk he was kinda right. The times, they had a-changed, but the kid sure hadn't - he'd just swiveled around on his heel and started letting the other team get peeks at his playbook, ran the routes when he wanted to and slapped the waterboy's nubile rump when he wasn't about it. Funny thing about the bad guys in stories is that there's always a couple chapters - or maybe even a whole story - where he gets a shot at playing on the right side of the tracks. Maybe he even does it well, but in the end, for some reason or whatever motive, he always jumps over the tracks again, and by the time the Iron Mahi comes hurtling along the line, the good guys lost sight of him again, and things are back to normal.

 

Maybe it's the money that makes 'em do it. Maybe it's the power. Maybe all that good makes them feel sticky and uncomfortable - see Joske Nimil's dreams of Dor. Or maybe it was just because the bad guy's the one with all the foresight. Without him, ain't no story. That kind of self-sacrifice...well, there's a reason to peddle your soul if there ever was one. Without a good bad guy, where's your adventure? 

 

Without me, what do they have?

 

Across the street, sippie cup crusaders were gathering like wolves. They sniffed at the blood and howled for answers that no wolf could know. Grokk was catching his breath, struggling to stand; I saw a glimpse of scraped paint on the street below him and made my decision. Couldn't tell you why if you paid me a million of the bounties on his head. Maybe it was weariness. Or that post-jones euphoria he talked about. Or maybe it was because I was just tired of fighting over guys who don't put out, because they've got issues with their dark-abomination-of-a-god employer, or because they're heartless schmucks who can't care about a thing in the world because they're hard and tough and blab too much, or because you showed up on the scene a bit too late and he already got the girl and no way can you rip those two apart without feeling like you kicked a puppy. I closed my eyes and nudged at the side of Grokk's hand with the spear, motioning for him to take it and stand. The lanky, two-timing, one-time-partner of mine grabbed the end of the javelin and pulled himself to his feet a little shakily, looking me up and down. The superior look was still on his face, but tempered with something. Maybe this is what Joske saw. That bit of...something. Maybe it's in everyone.

 

"I won't forget this," Grokk said solemnly.

 

Maybe...

 

"Yeah, yeah. Shut the up. You're gonna make me cry."

 

"That's the plan," Grokk said, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his hand move upwards. The world started to ring, hollow in my ears: "S'why I ain't gonna forget it."

 

I hit the ground hard with a low groan and heard the distant smack of head against cobblestones. Grokk's foot was fading in and out of my line of sight, punting mercilessly and sending my head lolling; I could feel a cut open up alongside the back of my cheekbone, spilling blood from below the temple down to the chin; I bit my tongue hard; Joske's lighter - no, no, if I scratch it he'll never forgive me - clattered to the ground and Grokk's foot stopped moving to the rhythm of the world's bells. I felt him sit on my chest and pat my cheek twice, hard. Blood caked his hand when he held up the lighter in front of me. you. That's my boy's toy. That's...

 

"Open wide, kiddo," Grokk intoned from on high. "I've seen this a million times. I know all the dentist's moves by heart. Open up."

 

I spat blood at Grokk. When he wiped it off, his smile had turned ugly again. (Have I ever mentioned how craggy Grokk's face is? The dude looks like a cliff face...after a lot of rain, and wind...and a lot of rappellers fell to their deaths during the rain-and-wind-storm. What do they call those? ...yeah...storms.) The Skakdi pulled down hard on my chin and reached for my tongue with two clawed fingers, flicking the lighter experimentally a couple times and then bringing it to the tip of my tongue. I didn't scream - I thought Skyra did, though; everything was foggy by then - and I clenched my fists so tight that my phalanges poked three bloody holes in my hand. I brought the fist up to hammer under Grokk's arm, at his ribs and waist, but he moved the hand from my chin and brought it over mine - like Tuara did - to bring my own blow down on my abdomen. My sweet, sweet, chiseled abdomen. Mercenaries, don't leave home without it. 

 

"Why you hitting yourself?" Grokk asked.

 

You're a fun toy. But don't get any delusions about your worth. I can find another one. Heuani was smiling--

 

"Why you hitting yourself?" Grokk asked.

 

--it was dark in the forest; fireflies shrieked like buzzards around the kid's blood--

 

"Why you hitting yourself?" Grokk asked.

 

--Heuani spirited away like a false shape before a nightlight, and I had only wanted one other thing in my life as badly as I'd wanted him.

 

"Why you hit--GAAH!" 

 

The lighter shot back in his face and Grokk yelped in shock more than pain when the heat source singed him. With a quick burst of elemental prowess I pulled the pendant back around my neck and hoisted Grokk off me by both hands (which he hadn't pinned; ask the fab ladies of the Ga-Koro Marines Fightin' 5th Squadron what these hands can do unpinned) shakily. The Skakdi was quick, jumping back towards me, but I shot out my feet quickly and mule kicked the out of his diaphragm. Grokk fell, out of all the breath he'd been saving up a minute before, and I used what scraps of juice my Calix had given me to stay conscious and get to my feet. I felt myself sway, watched the world go panoramic, but I stayed standing and took a measured step towards Grokk, then another.

 

"You...talk...too...much." I couldn't remember who said that to me. Must have been someone swell.

 

I only learned from the best.

 

Grokk threw a jab at my buzzing head and I ducked under it; Grokk weaved around on his feet with a left cross for the cheek, and I weaved with him; he tried to kick my footing out from under me and I took a step back; when he stepped forward, so did I, except I had always been quicker than Grokk and a little more ruthless, so when he tried to throw a punch to my teeth (he had a vendetta against my teeth) I blocked with my left elbow and then darted my right hand under the web our limbs had created.

 

The Skakdi sputtered when my phalanges breached his chest. The crowd's breath collectively caught. Our bodies were shaking.

 

"You were right," I hissed, blood and smoke bubbling from my mouth like my throat had 'distilled Karzahni' on tap. "About...me. About everything. You're right. I'm...bad. The bad guy. The one who hurts because he can. Kills...because he can. Sleeps easy at night, because he has to...to hurt and kill in the morning. And I got girlfriends. And a house. And friends. A life. I got a life, too. ...goddamn you... if you're gonna swipe that from me." I pushed a little deeper into his chest. Grokk sputtered for breath and I heard Skyra yell something. She's seen this pony do tricks before.

 

"Thanks...though. Thanks, Grokk...thanks...to you..." I felt my voice get stronger. The anger was seeping everywhere it needed to go. All that rage. All that hate. The animal, the kid, and then the animal again...Grokk had put baby in the corner. Now he'd know. Now he'd know. "I know exactly what I am. I'm Dorian Shaddix. I do bad things, with bad people, so the good people sleep easy...and sometimes, things turn out okay. And as things turn out...just so happens...I'm the best. There. Ever. Was."

 

He was my friend once.

 

I was never his friend.

 

"Let's find out what the you are."

 

"Dorian, no! Dorian!"

 

With a roar, I tightened my fingers and pulled, hard, out of Grokk's chest. The crowd went dead silent and I heard the plea - I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry - echo in the air. Grokk fell, listlessly, to one knee. His mouth was gaping like a fish with a hook on its lip. He didn't have it in him to smile.

 

When I shook my hand off, blood rained; some hit the cobblestones of the beaten street, and some ran down my forearm to my elbow to mingle with tattoo ink.

 

-Tyler

[NorikSigma]

IC: (Jarko)

 

"Alright, alright!" the Toa said, beginning down the alley, beckoning Lunefield to field.

IC: Lunefeld

 

Lunefeld followed Jarko at a safe distance, dismissing the muddy ground he had conjured using gravity previously.

[Nato G]

IC: Natharius.

 

This is what people get for not listening to me, Natharius thought bitterly to himself, as he watched the closing moves of Dorian's fight with Grokk. No one heard him; no one saw him; no one noticed him. Everyone - Skyra, Joske, Dorian, the crowd, were all looking at Grokk and Dor. No one ever even glanced Natharius' way. He wasn't important to them anymore. He could have attacked any one of them; he could have run. But he didn't. He stood still where he was, and watched, transfixed, horrified and silent. 

 

This was not a fun first day in Ta-Koro. 

Edited September 24, 2014 by NatoGreavesy

[TheMegazordman1]

Ic-Tor

 

"Hey now we both know that i was fired because i disobeyed order on not to pursue a murderer  down a lava river . And I caught the guy didnt I ? "

Edited September 24, 2014 by TheMegazordman1

[25K Now!]

IC: Lasinia

 

"Okay. I'll go check out this ship's storeroom."

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

"Oh thank the great beings it's sooo cramped in here..." 

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

The inn had been closed following the attack. It was only Ophaim and Mekana within the dining hall.

 

"You can exit now."

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

Mekana's hands reached out of the cart. "Um...you do recall my legs are broken right? Halp." 

Edited September 24, 2014 by Skitty

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

Ophaim shook his head, and moved to carefully guide his compatriot out of the cart. Soon, he was lifting her and moving Mekana onto one of the nearby chairs.

 

"You need a wheelchair," he declared.

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

"Oh...right....probably should have snatched one at the hospital before we left..." 

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

"I should be able to procure one for you soon enough. In the meantime, it appears as if you are confined to the inn."

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

"Should I attempt to laugh ominously for you?"

[Snelly]

IC: Mekana

 

"No...that would terrify me." 

[25K Now!]

IC: Ophaim

 

"HaHaHaHa."

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Nope, nothing to declare. Unless I need to recite weapons now. Can we go now?"

[Friar Tuck]

IC

 

Toa Joske

Location: Ta-Koro, Guard residential district

Chapter One: Crystals, Temples, Secrets... oh my.

 

Dorian, how many demons do you face?

 

Dorian, how many shadows haunt you?

 

Dorian, what is it like to be the bad guy, to be the one that hurts and kills because he can... and yet have a conscience?

 

Dorian... how can can you live like this?

 

How many demons do you have?

 

As of today - one less.

 

I sheathed my sword, began to walk forward in the slow-time silence of the aftermath...

 

I'm so sorry I'm so sorry-

 

I walked past the officer, past Skyra, past the gaping crowd, past the kneeling figure of Grokk...

 

I'm so sorry-

 

And I grabbing his trembling, bloodied, empty hand. No bloodied organ, no still-beating heart that I had heard he had done once before with the Bad Company.

 

Empty.

 

In the deafening silence I said nothing. Oh, I wanted to. A part of me wanted to go into a morality tirade about what the karz just happened, how two wrongs don't make a right, how everything here was something brought on yourself and you knew it. That this is the life you chose, the causation of your actions, whether done willingly or forced upon, yadda yadda yadda, hero-pose high road. On the other hand though there was another part that wanted to give him the firm nod, to place the hand on that shoulder and say with pride "Good Job!", to build him up after choosing to hold back. To not go all the way. To prove to him an everyone else around him that he was NOT the same Dorian Shaddix who we thought he was, prove that he had begun to change, proof that he could show restraint and remorse. That here was a guy who really understood and was making the effort, even at the cost of what he once thought was important, what defined him. Yet, I couldn't. I wouldn't. As much as both those responses were either right or justified, it wasn't what he needed. I had goofed this up once already. I blew my chance back in Le-Koro... and I had learned from the experience. He didn't need all that.

 

He needed a friend.

 

He stood there trembling, bloodied, bleeding, eyes red, just staring at me as I gripped his hand. Slowly I bent down and picked up the lighter. My lighter. The one I gave him in the Temple of Faith after that fateful exchange - now scratched and cracked, blood caked all over it, a little bit of fluid leaking out of the corner - the same one he had apparently held on to this entire time, I guess waiting for the right time to hand it back.

 

It wasn't that time.

 

I placed it in that hand, the bloodied, empty hand, and then one by one wrapped his fingers tightly around it until it was a balled fist. The look on his face was questioning, almost forlorn, as he staggered forward slightly from his injuries. With my other hand I caught him, only to bend down and with surprising ease pick him up. With one fluid motion I lifted him, maneuvering him over my shoulders in a fireman's carry as his limp body just hung there, too exhausted to say or do anything. I continued to remain silent as I turned towards his apartment, pausing only to look at Grokk.

 

I didn't do so long, only a very brief handful of seconds, but it was enough. I didn't say anything, didn't do anything; didn't have to. All I did was stare him down, the same look I gave Heuani when I defeated that shadow Toa. The same look of someone who had his number, the look of someone who knew who the real victor was, the glare of an individual who was claiming something, protecting something. As ugly as it was Dorian came out on top, and if Grokk wanted any more he had to go through me. Dorian had made a conscience effort rise above the trash that this Skakdi represented, and I for one was not going to let the likes of him pull the former merc back down.

 

With that I moved on.

 

Moved on past the kneeling Skakdi, past the officer and Skyra, past the astonished crowds, down the street to where his apartment lay. I didn't care who saw me or what they thought; I was past that. I didn't care if news of this reached Angelus or even Jaller, I would deal with that and them then. I even didn't care about that cursed Rahkshi; there were other things more important. Like Dorian, getting him to his place. Getting his inside. Getting him to his bedroom, carrying him up those stairs. And with a final heave getting him on his bed.

 

I helped get him up to a sitting position before leaving him for a moment, making my way to the bathroom and his medicine cabinet. I came back a minute later, having cleared the cabinet out, antiseptics and bandages in hand. I rarely was ever gifted the look of surprise on his face, so I took that look and stashed it away for posterity, for I was too busy to really savor it.

 

I was too busy bandaging him.

 

Granted, I'm not a doctor. But Cael was, in which over time I had picked up a few things, plus as a former athlete I was no stranger to injuries, so I knew how to patch someone up until more professional help arrived. One by one I attended to his injuries, one by one each cut, scrape, and bruise hidden under bright white gauze and linen, every so often the pain and sting of the antiseptic pulling a flinch out of him.

 

i didn't know how long I was on that, but eventually I was done, bloodied wads of gauze and wrapper trash strewn across the floor. It would take some time even for him to recover from that, but at least now he was in no immediate danger of bleeding out, passing out, or infection. I left him once again to swing downstairs, gingerly stepping around the destroyed piano as I found that holy grail of his, the liquor cabinet. Swiping a bottle of bourbon and a pair of shot glasses later I re-appeared in his room, the guy having not moved a single muscle while I was gone. Slowly he looked up at me with black-and-blue eyes as I placed the bottle and glassware on the bedside table, pulling up a chair and sitting backwards on it, the backrest between the two of us. Without fanfare I opened the bottle and filled both shots, being careful to make sure he fully grasped it with his free hand before I let go. Taking the other one I raised it slightly before him, a grim smile on my face as I gave him a nod, finally speaking to him since the terrible battle ended.

 

"To imperfection."

 

My eyes however, those unnaturally-bright, piercing, and blue eyes, were exceptionally clear.

Edited September 25, 2014 by Friar Tuck

[25K Now!]

IC: Lasinia

 

Lasinia had disappeared off into the hold of the ship they had boarded, and returned with possibly out-of-date popcorn.

 

"Best thing i COUld FiND sh0RT notice," she said, chewing on some. "Bit stale, but edible~!"

[Nato G]

IC: Natharius.

 

Part of Natharius wanted to leave Grokk kneeling there, bleeding in the street. Maybe Skyra was right, maybe Grokk was a piece of ######, and maybe Natharius was too for still feeling sympathetic towards him. But Dorian was just as bad, if not worse. All this over a stupid prank, he scoffed to himself. He knew that wasn't true. There was a lot more history here that he knew nothing about. Grokk hadn't lied to him, not exactly, but he'd certainly omitted plenty of details. Twisting around and contorting his body, he used his laser vision to cauterize his own bullet wound, then walked slowly over to Grokk, limping more than little. Skyr's bullet seemed ot have done more damage than he'd thought; probably fractured something in his leg.

 

He shot her a dirty look as he passed. Not for the bullet, but for Dorian. If she had the audacity to still call that crazy a friend after this, then Natharius didn't feel so bad about himself helping Grokk.

 

Someone had to help the crazy, psychotic fool, and if that someone had to be him, so be it. We skakdi have to stick together, after all. If no one else will help us, we've got to help each other. Given the general warlike, bickering nature of his own species, Natharius doubted that many skakdi would agree with him on that point, but he didn't care.  

 

"Need a hand?" Natharius smirked, holding out his damaged robotic arm, offering it for Grokk to grab onto. 

Edited September 24, 2014 by NatoGreavesy