Post by Beowulf Keyes on May 9, 2009 16:13:23 GMT -5
The way she sparkled with innocence, the way her tail wagged a bit, and the way she tried not to have me notice that she was scoping me top to bottom, it all made me feel a little flutter in my heart. I hadn't felt something like that since my mother was killed. She was a white wolf as well...
I didn't know why we still played at this club. Beowulf and The Stalkers were better than this place. I was better than this place. It disgusted me, the smell of stale alcohol and rotting wood. It made me gag every time I opened my mouth to belt out another verse of “Drink it Till Its Dry.” Wall to wall drunks.
This is what I did now. After leaving the Violators I didn't really have anything to do, so I started a band and announced myself the lead singer. No problem. Except the only gigs we could get were shitty bars on the bad side of town. Who am I kidding, its all the bad side of town out here. And this was much better than the “De Le Rouge”. At least it wasn't a cesspool of depravity.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the moon goddess herself entering this decrepit hole. Her fur shone with a brilliance that could only reflect the purity of her soul. She was built strangely, slender and wiry like a fox, but with big puppy paws. This and her large deep blue eyes served only to add to the vibe of complete naïve innocence. The only thing betraying the image was the way she held herself with confidence and control.
Amusingly her posture melted a little when she saw me on the makeshift stage moaning the final verse of “Take Me Away To Funky Cheese Land”. She looked me over top to bottom, her gaze stopping slightly when she found my powerfully built chest. I think she may have drooled on herself, but I may just be flattering myself. Her tail began waging ever so slightly, giving her the look of a pup staring out of a pet shop window at a fun looking owner. The overall picture made me want to either protect her forever or bash her head into a table and destroy her perfect visage.
Yeah, I know I have some problems. Get over it.
The white beauty turned to leave. My brain exploded with reasons to follow her, to find out were she lived. I had to see her. Damn, since when did I pine away about girls? I knew it was a mistake, but I convinced myself that she may need help getting home at this hour, in this part of town. I signaled to the bartender to pay me so I could leave. I should have checked how much he gave me 'cause the bastard shorted me twenty yenko. But that wasn't on my mind at the time. I turned and left the disgusting club to follow some beautiful stranger.
She wasn't hard to find, she had walked slowly so she was only about a block away. Quite suddenly a man came up behind her and grabbed her around the face. I had to resist running forward and getting into the fight. I wanted to see how this turned out, if she had the guts to fight. Sneaking up behind a nearby garbage can, I watched the scene play out.
The mugger or rapist spoke softly to the white beauty, something out of earshot. After a bit more slight movement, the girl elbowed the gang banger causing him to double over and giving her a chance to flee. Unfortunately more of the gang banger's ilk were waiting on the other side of the alley, giving her no chance of escape. What she did then floored me. Instead of running or crying, the girl mustered all of her latent height and stood with an inspiring composure. She then said something I couldn't hear but it couldn't have been friendly because the gang banger pulled out a switchblade.
Again I resisted the urge to charge. If they hurt her more than she could take I would step in, but for now I wanted to see what would happen. The gang banger slowly advanced on the girl. When he got close enough, he swung the knife at the girl. The girl stuck her arms in the way of the blade, saving her beautiful face. A tactical move on he part. The gang banger went to swing again, but the girl did something I wouldn't have expected. She head butted him in the stomach, causing him to double over. The girl made a run for it again, but several of the other nearby gang members grabbed he and started to tear away at her fur and clothes.
The girl fell to the ground, kicking and punching and using her leverage to cause some less than savory damage. There were the occasional yelps of pain, both from the girl and from her attackers, but it was clear that the gang bangers had her trapped. I took a step forward, and as I did so, I learned that I had underestimated her.
I watched closely as the girl half crawled, half rolled away from her attackers between the legs of one of the hooligans. Someone grabbed her velvet white tail only to be met with a sound kick to the face. The gang bangers nose exploded in a shower of blood as he stumbled backwards. She must have seen this work because she kicked again, pushing another gang banger into a rubbish bin.
The sounds of the fight must have been louder than I had noticed, because people were starting to lean out of the door and windows to get a better look. Someone on the inside of the club yelled “Fight!” and two strongly built bouncers rushed out. The bouncers grabbed the remaining gang bangers and held them back as the girl ran away.
I followed her. Don't ask me why, at the time I had no idea. She ran for what seemed like an impossible amount of time. I could barely keep behind her as she weaved through random streets and alleys. Finally she ducked into an abandoned house. I looked at her through the grimy window pane as she curled into a ball near the front door. She started to lick herself clean, and cry. Then she said what looked to me to be a little prayer.
I stayed outside that house all night, watching for any intruder or more gang punks. No one bothered her or the house that night but I stayed anyway, ever the proverbial guard dog. The girl eventually woke up and shook herself off.
I followed her back to the brighter side of Neo-Tokyo as she meandered through the streets looking like someone with only a bit of direction. I tagged her all the way to a normal looking building with a sign out front that said “The Bridgend”. She entered it like it was her home. I swore loudly to myself. She was one of those quacks. It didn't really matter, I still had to meet her.
I slowly walked back to the club, smoking my cherry cloves as I strolled through the streets. I wasn't in any hurry, but I had a plan. A plan to wrangle her into my life. All I needed was that guys body.
When I got back to the club it was almost empty, a huge contrast to full house of last night. There were only two patrons there now, along with the bartender. By this time I'd had a chance to count my yenko and find myself short twenty. I approached the bar with my chest puffed out and a snarl on my face.
“You look like you got a problem Beo, old pal.” the bartender said warily. He had seen my temper in action before.
“Ya, I gots a problem mano. You shorted me some moolah. Twenty yenk's I believe it was. 'Member what I tol' you about shortin' me cash Lester.” I said in my thick New York accent.
Lester shivered a bit and looked at the cup he was presently cleaning.
“You know this clubs going down. I barely got the money to buy drinks. Please Beo, I just don't have it..”
I sighed. I kind of liked Lester, he had given me the Friday night gigs and offered my a good some of yenko to play. But I had a reputation to uphold.
“Let make a deal here Les'. Ya give me a shot a whiskey and some info for free and we call it square.”
Lester spun around quickly and grabbed the nearest bottle of “Mr. Brownstone” and poured me an over filled double-shot glass. It was more than I had asked for, but thats one of the things I liked about Lester, he did good business. I downed it in one huge gulp, trying to iron face it, but instead making a face reminiscent of a dog with peanut butter on the roof of it mouth. If Lester wasn't so afraid of me, I'm sure he would have laughed.
“What can I tell you?” Lester asked, more confident now that I wasn't here to bust his face in.
“'Member that fight last night? The one with that girl?” I asked as an almost rhetorical question, Lester could remember almost every single face that passed through his club. Thats why he was such a fantastic bartender.
“That cute little half breed with the bright white fur?”
“Yeah”
“What of it?”
“Who were those guys that attacked her?”
Lester's brow shriveled a bit, a look of disgust crossing his lean and bony face.
“There called the Purp Dragons. Nasty street thugs. They swing around here every once and a while to pick up a drink and a chick. Useless rapists and layabouts, the lot of 'em.” Lester said with a hint of anger in his voice.
“Doya know were they crash Les'?”
“Sort of. Word is they live in some warehouse in Osaka. You thinking of crashing them. They got some kinda bounty?”
I shook my head. “Pro Bono job. Just helpin' a little lady out.”
Lester grinned widely, something I had only seen once before when we had my band agreed to play at his failing dive. “You got a thing for her doncha? Has the rascal finally found something other than loud music and smashing things to pieces? Does he have a heart?”
I shook my head again. If it hadn't been Lester saying that, he would have no eyes, but Les' might have been the only person I called a friend. “So wadif I do? I'm just gonna see if I can teach those gang bangers a lesson.”
Lester smiled wider. The expression made him look much younger and vibrant.
“I gotta go and see what I can do 'bout these thugs.” I said instead of a goodbye as I exited the pit that was the club.
As much as Lester's info was useful, it was still a bit vague. There were a lot of warehouses in Osaka and I didn't have time to check every one. I hadn't done it in a long time, but I went into the alley were the fight occurred and found the pool of blood the gang banger's nose had dribbled all over the pavement. I took a huge sniff and got the overwhelming scent of sweet salt. I suddenly wanted to kill. I shook off my blood lust for a moment and sniffed again. I got the man's putrid scent and began following it.
As I said, I hadn't done this in a long time, but the art of tracking came back to me instinctively. I followed the mans scent directly into Osaka, were it weaved about for a little while. I came to another alley were I found the scent of the gang banger stronger, along with the body of some poor red-furred fox anthro. I ignored my extreme anger and continued following the scent. It eventually led me to a rather new looking warehouse.
I circled the place twice to check for guards and to make sure this was the place that the trail ended. There were no guards and this was indeed the place. I made another round to check exits and smoke a clove. There was only one entrance/exit and it was the front door. Perfect. There was no way for them to escape my claws.
I threw open the door with most of my strength causing it to slide off its track, leaving the afternoon sun to fill the warehouse with its warm glow. The night stalking gang members started to stir and moan with displeasure. I counted ten men laying down. Swiftly, I went to work.
The first two guys went down easy. I charged forward and swung my claws at the nearest two guys, still rousing themselves off of their makeshift beds. The gang bangers fell to shreds of flesh and gore at my feet. This made me feel good. It had been to long since I had washed my claws with the power of an enemy.
The eight remaining Purp Dragons rolled off their beds looking at me with surprise and dismay. Two of them took the look to their graves as I smashed their heads together into one huge bloody spray. Three of the gang bangers took off toward the door as they saw this. I grabbed one by the neck as he passed within arms reach, and I crushed his throat causing more blood and an unsettling amount of spit to run down my arm. The other two escaped out of the door behind me.
The five left alive, including the one that had tried to rape that poor girl had seemed to regain a bit of their composure and made ready to charge. Three of them pulled out knives of varying sizes. One of them, a wicked looking serrated combat knife caught my eye. I would take that from his body when this fight was over.
The Purp Dragons charged at me as one, knives outstretched, looking to find any place to sink there blades into. I dodged two of the knives and one of the outstretched fists by crouching suddenly. Unfortunately that left one of the blades to stab deeply into my arm, and a well placed uppercut to knock my on my ass.
I was on the floor and I suddenly felt like the girl in the alley. I began to panic, like she did, kicking and swinging at random. This wasn't helping matters as the Purp Dragons were easily moving away from my fit of fists. I looked over at the knife that stuck out of my arm and a sudden calm descended over me. Strange thing to make me calm, I know.
I realized the difference between the girl with white fur and me. I knew how to use my weapons. I knew how to handle every ounce of my body. I rolled to the left as a knife came down on the spot I was a moment before. I quickly tore the knife out of my arm and flung it at one of the gang members, lodging it in his forehead. This took another of the gang bangers by surprise just long enough for me to tear out his chest as I vaulted to my feet.
Three more to go I told myself as two knife wielders and a guy with mean looking fists advanced on me. My left arm hung limp at my side. It was home stretch, I needed something to slide me safe. I looked around quickly. I saw several meat hooks dangling from the ceiling from rusty chains. I ran to the nearest one and yanked. The rust and my one armed strength allowed my to yank it off the ceiling.
I swung it like a lasso over my head, causing the remaining gang bangers to step back a few paces. I pitched it in a wide arc that finished with one of the knife wielders on the end of a meat hook, twitching
wildly. I dropped the improvised weapon.
The two guys looked at each other with a comical “Oh my God” expression. One of them bolted. I let him go. It was the last guy, the guy that tried to rape that poor girl. He stood, apparently frozen in place with terror. He may have even been in shock, it had all happened so fast. I smiled as I had him for breakfast.
After I had finished my hearty meal of stomach and packed the gang bangers head in my bag along with the wicked looking combat knife, I left for The Bridgend. I knew what I had to do. I had to teach her how to fight. I couldn't see her or myself helpless like that ever again. When I got there I left my bag with the gang banger's head on the front steps. I then wrote a note and pinned it to the bag.
The front says, “To the white furred beauty”
And the inside has a phone number and the words “Wana learn Karate?”
I didn't know why we still played at this club. Beowulf and The Stalkers were better than this place. I was better than this place. It disgusted me, the smell of stale alcohol and rotting wood. It made me gag every time I opened my mouth to belt out another verse of “Drink it Till Its Dry.” Wall to wall drunks.
This is what I did now. After leaving the Violators I didn't really have anything to do, so I started a band and announced myself the lead singer. No problem. Except the only gigs we could get were shitty bars on the bad side of town. Who am I kidding, its all the bad side of town out here. And this was much better than the “De Le Rouge”. At least it wasn't a cesspool of depravity.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the moon goddess herself entering this decrepit hole. Her fur shone with a brilliance that could only reflect the purity of her soul. She was built strangely, slender and wiry like a fox, but with big puppy paws. This and her large deep blue eyes served only to add to the vibe of complete naïve innocence. The only thing betraying the image was the way she held herself with confidence and control.
Amusingly her posture melted a little when she saw me on the makeshift stage moaning the final verse of “Take Me Away To Funky Cheese Land”. She looked me over top to bottom, her gaze stopping slightly when she found my powerfully built chest. I think she may have drooled on herself, but I may just be flattering myself. Her tail began waging ever so slightly, giving her the look of a pup staring out of a pet shop window at a fun looking owner. The overall picture made me want to either protect her forever or bash her head into a table and destroy her perfect visage.
Yeah, I know I have some problems. Get over it.
The white beauty turned to leave. My brain exploded with reasons to follow her, to find out were she lived. I had to see her. Damn, since when did I pine away about girls? I knew it was a mistake, but I convinced myself that she may need help getting home at this hour, in this part of town. I signaled to the bartender to pay me so I could leave. I should have checked how much he gave me 'cause the bastard shorted me twenty yenko. But that wasn't on my mind at the time. I turned and left the disgusting club to follow some beautiful stranger.
She wasn't hard to find, she had walked slowly so she was only about a block away. Quite suddenly a man came up behind her and grabbed her around the face. I had to resist running forward and getting into the fight. I wanted to see how this turned out, if she had the guts to fight. Sneaking up behind a nearby garbage can, I watched the scene play out.
The mugger or rapist spoke softly to the white beauty, something out of earshot. After a bit more slight movement, the girl elbowed the gang banger causing him to double over and giving her a chance to flee. Unfortunately more of the gang banger's ilk were waiting on the other side of the alley, giving her no chance of escape. What she did then floored me. Instead of running or crying, the girl mustered all of her latent height and stood with an inspiring composure. She then said something I couldn't hear but it couldn't have been friendly because the gang banger pulled out a switchblade.
Again I resisted the urge to charge. If they hurt her more than she could take I would step in, but for now I wanted to see what would happen. The gang banger slowly advanced on the girl. When he got close enough, he swung the knife at the girl. The girl stuck her arms in the way of the blade, saving her beautiful face. A tactical move on he part. The gang banger went to swing again, but the girl did something I wouldn't have expected. She head butted him in the stomach, causing him to double over. The girl made a run for it again, but several of the other nearby gang members grabbed he and started to tear away at her fur and clothes.
The girl fell to the ground, kicking and punching and using her leverage to cause some less than savory damage. There were the occasional yelps of pain, both from the girl and from her attackers, but it was clear that the gang bangers had her trapped. I took a step forward, and as I did so, I learned that I had underestimated her.
I watched closely as the girl half crawled, half rolled away from her attackers between the legs of one of the hooligans. Someone grabbed her velvet white tail only to be met with a sound kick to the face. The gang bangers nose exploded in a shower of blood as he stumbled backwards. She must have seen this work because she kicked again, pushing another gang banger into a rubbish bin.
The sounds of the fight must have been louder than I had noticed, because people were starting to lean out of the door and windows to get a better look. Someone on the inside of the club yelled “Fight!” and two strongly built bouncers rushed out. The bouncers grabbed the remaining gang bangers and held them back as the girl ran away.
I followed her. Don't ask me why, at the time I had no idea. She ran for what seemed like an impossible amount of time. I could barely keep behind her as she weaved through random streets and alleys. Finally she ducked into an abandoned house. I looked at her through the grimy window pane as she curled into a ball near the front door. She started to lick herself clean, and cry. Then she said what looked to me to be a little prayer.
I stayed outside that house all night, watching for any intruder or more gang punks. No one bothered her or the house that night but I stayed anyway, ever the proverbial guard dog. The girl eventually woke up and shook herself off.
I followed her back to the brighter side of Neo-Tokyo as she meandered through the streets looking like someone with only a bit of direction. I tagged her all the way to a normal looking building with a sign out front that said “The Bridgend”. She entered it like it was her home. I swore loudly to myself. She was one of those quacks. It didn't really matter, I still had to meet her.
I slowly walked back to the club, smoking my cherry cloves as I strolled through the streets. I wasn't in any hurry, but I had a plan. A plan to wrangle her into my life. All I needed was that guys body.
When I got back to the club it was almost empty, a huge contrast to full house of last night. There were only two patrons there now, along with the bartender. By this time I'd had a chance to count my yenko and find myself short twenty. I approached the bar with my chest puffed out and a snarl on my face.
“You look like you got a problem Beo, old pal.” the bartender said warily. He had seen my temper in action before.
“Ya, I gots a problem mano. You shorted me some moolah. Twenty yenk's I believe it was. 'Member what I tol' you about shortin' me cash Lester.” I said in my thick New York accent.
Lester shivered a bit and looked at the cup he was presently cleaning.
“You know this clubs going down. I barely got the money to buy drinks. Please Beo, I just don't have it..”
I sighed. I kind of liked Lester, he had given me the Friday night gigs and offered my a good some of yenko to play. But I had a reputation to uphold.
“Let make a deal here Les'. Ya give me a shot a whiskey and some info for free and we call it square.”
Lester spun around quickly and grabbed the nearest bottle of “Mr. Brownstone” and poured me an over filled double-shot glass. It was more than I had asked for, but thats one of the things I liked about Lester, he did good business. I downed it in one huge gulp, trying to iron face it, but instead making a face reminiscent of a dog with peanut butter on the roof of it mouth. If Lester wasn't so afraid of me, I'm sure he would have laughed.
“What can I tell you?” Lester asked, more confident now that I wasn't here to bust his face in.
“'Member that fight last night? The one with that girl?” I asked as an almost rhetorical question, Lester could remember almost every single face that passed through his club. Thats why he was such a fantastic bartender.
“That cute little half breed with the bright white fur?”
“Yeah”
“What of it?”
“Who were those guys that attacked her?”
Lester's brow shriveled a bit, a look of disgust crossing his lean and bony face.
“There called the Purp Dragons. Nasty street thugs. They swing around here every once and a while to pick up a drink and a chick. Useless rapists and layabouts, the lot of 'em.” Lester said with a hint of anger in his voice.
“Doya know were they crash Les'?”
“Sort of. Word is they live in some warehouse in Osaka. You thinking of crashing them. They got some kinda bounty?”
I shook my head. “Pro Bono job. Just helpin' a little lady out.”
Lester grinned widely, something I had only seen once before when we had my band agreed to play at his failing dive. “You got a thing for her doncha? Has the rascal finally found something other than loud music and smashing things to pieces? Does he have a heart?”
I shook my head again. If it hadn't been Lester saying that, he would have no eyes, but Les' might have been the only person I called a friend. “So wadif I do? I'm just gonna see if I can teach those gang bangers a lesson.”
Lester smiled wider. The expression made him look much younger and vibrant.
“I gotta go and see what I can do 'bout these thugs.” I said instead of a goodbye as I exited the pit that was the club.
As much as Lester's info was useful, it was still a bit vague. There were a lot of warehouses in Osaka and I didn't have time to check every one. I hadn't done it in a long time, but I went into the alley were the fight occurred and found the pool of blood the gang banger's nose had dribbled all over the pavement. I took a huge sniff and got the overwhelming scent of sweet salt. I suddenly wanted to kill. I shook off my blood lust for a moment and sniffed again. I got the man's putrid scent and began following it.
As I said, I hadn't done this in a long time, but the art of tracking came back to me instinctively. I followed the mans scent directly into Osaka, were it weaved about for a little while. I came to another alley were I found the scent of the gang banger stronger, along with the body of some poor red-furred fox anthro. I ignored my extreme anger and continued following the scent. It eventually led me to a rather new looking warehouse.
I circled the place twice to check for guards and to make sure this was the place that the trail ended. There were no guards and this was indeed the place. I made another round to check exits and smoke a clove. There was only one entrance/exit and it was the front door. Perfect. There was no way for them to escape my claws.
I threw open the door with most of my strength causing it to slide off its track, leaving the afternoon sun to fill the warehouse with its warm glow. The night stalking gang members started to stir and moan with displeasure. I counted ten men laying down. Swiftly, I went to work.
The first two guys went down easy. I charged forward and swung my claws at the nearest two guys, still rousing themselves off of their makeshift beds. The gang bangers fell to shreds of flesh and gore at my feet. This made me feel good. It had been to long since I had washed my claws with the power of an enemy.
The eight remaining Purp Dragons rolled off their beds looking at me with surprise and dismay. Two of them took the look to their graves as I smashed their heads together into one huge bloody spray. Three of the gang bangers took off toward the door as they saw this. I grabbed one by the neck as he passed within arms reach, and I crushed his throat causing more blood and an unsettling amount of spit to run down my arm. The other two escaped out of the door behind me.
The five left alive, including the one that had tried to rape that poor girl had seemed to regain a bit of their composure and made ready to charge. Three of them pulled out knives of varying sizes. One of them, a wicked looking serrated combat knife caught my eye. I would take that from his body when this fight was over.
The Purp Dragons charged at me as one, knives outstretched, looking to find any place to sink there blades into. I dodged two of the knives and one of the outstretched fists by crouching suddenly. Unfortunately that left one of the blades to stab deeply into my arm, and a well placed uppercut to knock my on my ass.
I was on the floor and I suddenly felt like the girl in the alley. I began to panic, like she did, kicking and swinging at random. This wasn't helping matters as the Purp Dragons were easily moving away from my fit of fists. I looked over at the knife that stuck out of my arm and a sudden calm descended over me. Strange thing to make me calm, I know.
I realized the difference between the girl with white fur and me. I knew how to use my weapons. I knew how to handle every ounce of my body. I rolled to the left as a knife came down on the spot I was a moment before. I quickly tore the knife out of my arm and flung it at one of the gang members, lodging it in his forehead. This took another of the gang bangers by surprise just long enough for me to tear out his chest as I vaulted to my feet.
Three more to go I told myself as two knife wielders and a guy with mean looking fists advanced on me. My left arm hung limp at my side. It was home stretch, I needed something to slide me safe. I looked around quickly. I saw several meat hooks dangling from the ceiling from rusty chains. I ran to the nearest one and yanked. The rust and my one armed strength allowed my to yank it off the ceiling.
I swung it like a lasso over my head, causing the remaining gang bangers to step back a few paces. I pitched it in a wide arc that finished with one of the knife wielders on the end of a meat hook, twitching
wildly. I dropped the improvised weapon.
The two guys looked at each other with a comical “Oh my God” expression. One of them bolted. I let him go. It was the last guy, the guy that tried to rape that poor girl. He stood, apparently frozen in place with terror. He may have even been in shock, it had all happened so fast. I smiled as I had him for breakfast.
After I had finished my hearty meal of stomach and packed the gang bangers head in my bag along with the wicked looking combat knife, I left for The Bridgend. I knew what I had to do. I had to teach her how to fight. I couldn't see her or myself helpless like that ever again. When I got there I left my bag with the gang banger's head on the front steps. I then wrote a note and pinned it to the bag.
The front says, “To the white furred beauty”
And the inside has a phone number and the words “Wana learn Karate?”