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 Posted: Tue Jan 27, 2009 10:55 pm
Well… it had been fun, but Con felt that it was about time to move on again. There wasn’t a whole lot that Albany could offer him. It wasn’t as if the kanus had intended to stay here forever. It was simply another brief stop in a road of life. Of course, the fact that he had gained a rather large gambling debt might have encouraged him to get a move on and all, but it was mostly just his own gut telling him it was time to move on. There was still a lot of world to discover out there. The white-furred kanus briefly scratched at his ragged ear as he considered his next direction. Maybe north… or south. South was good too. So was east and west, when you got right down to it. Con wasn’t too picky about details like that. Deciding that now would be a good time to gather up some supplies----like water; one of the first things young Con had learned in his journey was that you could never have too much water----the kanus pushed open the door of his current ‘home’, venturing into the streets of night Albany.
A city like this never truly slept. Not really. Con darkly thought it was because, if there was a god or goddess or whatever, then they probably didn’t trust anyone in the dark. He knew he didn’t. It was quieter now than it was in the daytime, but there were still plenty of others out and about, eager to take advantage of the night’s shadows. There weren’t really any houses in this part of town. They were more like crannies in the woodwork, a place where an enterprising or desperate kanus might be able to make himself---or herself---comfortable. Con’s ear-and-a-half set back against his skull, a clear warning to any cut-purses who might be lurking in the area, ‘subtly’ encouraging them to look after easier prey.
Some small voice in the back of his mind piped up at this point, reminding him that he hadn’t informed his current employers of his intent to leave yet. He brushed the voice away easily, since it was very small and thus easily ignored; others left the city all the time. It wasn’t as if there weren’t others eager to fill up his position at the electricity factory. He’d made enough money to get moving again, so that was exactly what he was going to do. Pausing to sniff the air, the mostly white kanus started off towards the night market, deciding that this would probably be the best place to find a decent map. Or, failing that, supplies. Even a bar could work, he supposed. Actually, a bar would probably be ideal.
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 11:41 am
Huh, so this was it. This was how he was going to die: Jasper Reed, heir to the esteemed Reed Electrical Company, dragged into an alley and mauled to death thanks to his goddamn wallet.
Oh, he could imagine how the local papers would be having a field day with this one tomorrow morning upon his discovery, sprawled next to a tipped dumpster and covered in so many bruises that even his fur was turning a shade of blackishblue... or was that just from the muck puddles he'd fallen into?
His good clothes were ruined either way-- and getting progressively worse as the trio of assailants (particularly the SEVEN FOOT REPTILIAN ONE, of whom he'd pissed off in a very special way upon trying to fight back) continued to beat him senseless just for good measure, quite literally kicking him when he was already VERY DECIDEDLY DOWN AND--
CRACK.
Well s**t, there went another rib to go with his concussed head, clawed out side, broken arm and... whatever else he'd failed to keep track of.
... In retrospect, he probably should've stayed on the main streets.
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Posted: Wed Jan 28, 2009 8:02 pm
People getting seven kinds of snot beaten out of them wasn’t entirely unexpected in this part of town. In fact, it was practically a sport, although there was rarely anything sporting about it. Funny word, ‘sport’. Con had been on both sides of fights before----even did it for money for a while---and recognized the sounds of someone learning a very valuable lesson: sticks and stones weren’t the only things that broke bones. Fists and feet did a pretty decent job themselves. The smart thing would have been to just walk on and ignore it. It wasn’t like it was Con’s face being rearranged, so it wasn’t any of his business. Buuuut… the kanus rarely listened to things like logic. It got in the way of fun far too often to be listened to. Instead of stopping and actually thinking about what could happen to him if he stepped into a fight, Con boldly stepped in front of the alley, clearing his throat. Five eyes turned to look at him, glaring at the interruption of their sport.
Con’s first thought was, ‘s**t’. His second thought was, ‘s**t, that’s a huge xeric’. His third thought was, once again, ‘s**t’, since one of the other kanus was making an aggressive move towards him. After that, there wasn’t really any room for anything that resembled a thought. Just instinct. Con was not a graceful fighter; he was about as subtle as a flying brick but far more painful on impact since he would hit things multiple times. He probably should have waited for some sort of challenge to be issued. Maybe this could have been figured out without further violence.
…
Yeah. And maybe the moon was made of delicious cheese and spun sugar.
The air was thick with very interesting sounds for a long while, a cacophony of howls, snarls, growls, and, occasionally, whimpers. Oh, and various insults. It was actually easier than Con had thought, primarily because his opponents had been drinking rather heavily that night. It also helped that Con had absolutely no shame when it came to fighting, especially when it came to wielding a handy pipe as a weapon. Within fifteen minutes, Con was left standing, panting more than he cared to admit. But, damn, it felt good to get the blood flowing once more. Nothing quite like a fight… his right eye stung where the xeric had caught a good punch, but that would fade eventually. Letting his hackles slowly calm down, the kanus turned his attention towards the bundle of injuries that was Jasper.
Not that he recognized him at first. It was hard to tell anything under all that blood and mud. Kneeling with a grunt and a slight twinge, Con poked the other kanus hard in the shoulder. “You awake?” Or alive? Con felt vaguely annoyed right there, wondering if he had just jumped into a fight over a corpse. Now that would be a waste.
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2009 8:34 pm
Oooh, s**t, his head was just throbbing like someone had beaten it in with a hammer... or a club... or a Xeric fist... or some unfair combination of the three he was too concussed and screwed up to add together.
No, really, by the time Jasper 'came to' following some short odd blackout he didn't remember conceding to, his brain possessed the approximate capacity of a jello mold-- and god only knew it was probably the same consistency in his skull, too, given how much abuse it had all suffered. His arm was sure bent at a funny angle and it felt like his guts were all turning to mush, anyway...
As for just how much time had passed, he wasn't keeping track. He could've have if it tried. All he knew was that he'd been trying to die quietly and black out with his face near a puddle of sludge and some obnoxious son of a b***h was trying to harass him with a lot of rough shaking in his last minutes.
Stupid jerky little...
"Sh'up..." O... kay, that was a little strange. He hadn't meant for his hissing to be that slurry a-- ... wow, did that Kanus leering down at him have three heads, or was he seeing triple? "F'course m'awake, st'pi dumba... a..." And that was the moment something possessed him to (attemptively) push himself upright... with the shattered arm.
Which then prompted a sudden revulsion of his stomach, which THEN prompted him to choke up a good mouthful of bloody vomit on his hopeless savior's shoes and... face plant the ground.
Or rather, faceplant a puddle of oily muddy sludge that was on the ground, promptly out cold and floppy as a ragdoll.
Uh... whoops?
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Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2009 8:59 pm
At first when the kid wasn’t responding, Con was a little worried. Mostly, he was worried that someone might find him with a dead body because that was the sort of thing that aroused suspicion. He switched his technique from poking to shaking the younger Kanus who eventually approached something that looked like consciousness from the right angle. Well, he was cursing. Or trying to curse. That was alive enough for Con. Between all the slurring, it took Con a little while to figure out that the younger kanus was trying to curse at him. That… was not a good move considering that Con had just saved his life. The one-eared kanus’s eyes narrowed a little and he considered just leaving the kid in a pile of his own vomit.
Speaking of vomit, that was the exact moment that his shoes were blessed. His shoes. His last good pair of shoes. Con stared morosely down at his vomit-encrusted shoes, wondering why the universe would do such a thing. He promptly let go of the other male and made to leave. His job was done here…
Except… he looked back over his shoulder, wondering what was so familiar about the other male. Bits of memories jumbled together in the back of his mind clicked into life, briefly lighting everything up. No, not lighting. Lightning. Electricity. Not so long ago, Con had been working in an electricity factory. The owners had brought their son in once. Con remembered.
Ha! And to think that their little brat could be out here face-down in the muck! It was one of those wonderfully poetic moments. Well, at least this explained why someone was beating him up. From what Con recalled, the kid could make cream curdle. Also, there was lots of money.
Lots. Of. Money. And it was right there, in front of him. Just imagine how much money he could get from saving the kid! Or… a sneaky little voice in the back of his mind said. Imagine how much more money you can get if you let the parents worry a little while longer.
That sealed the idea in Con’s mind. It was a little troublesome to carry the kid off without being seen---since wandering around carrying an unconscious aristocrat was also the sort of thing to arouse suspicion----but at least he didn’t weigh much. It wasn’t really kidnapping at all. It was just a concerned citizen keeping an injured brat safe and sound while his parents worked themselves up into a lather. Preferably an expensive lather.
~.~
Some time later, Con worked on cooking dinner for himself and his new ‘guest’. The kanus’s house was probably a far cry from whatever the kid was used to---the name started with J, he knew, but it probably wasn’t Jade----but it was enough for the white kanus. It was less of a house and more like four walls cobbled together in such a way that, in defiance of physics, somehow managed to stay up. There was a ceiling. There really was. It was just that it leaked in places. Good thing it didn’t rain often, yeah? There wasn’t a whole lot of room, but that was alright since Con liked to travel light anyway. Besides the stove in one corner, the only piece of furniture was the bed.
Con had decided that Jasper could get that for now, at least until he woke up. Then he fully planned on kicking the injured kanus out of it. Con looked over his shoulder at the other before getting back to his cooking, a sort of thin broth that looked to be more water than anything else. He had done his best to clean up the kid, but it wasn’t easy.
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Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2009 12:31 am
Nnn, felt like he was being dragged away somewhere, didn't it...
Not that Jasper had any conscious recollection of the trip back to Con's feeble excuse for a shack, nor of the haphazard, heavy-handed and borderline abusive patch-job his body had been subjected to, thankfully out cold so as not to feel his arm being roughly mangled into some state of semi-unmangled with a piss-poor splint.
God, he was a wreck. Gashes and cuts and mud and broken bones and all sorts of horrible unpleasantness were still everywhere on him from head to toe, but really at least he was alive, right? Even the scrawniest of Kanus (which he damn near qualified for, stupid physique) were usually pretty resilient to a point, after all.
... In theory, anyway.
When he finally did manage to grab ahold of consciousness (albeit with ouch-filled butter fingers) again, the first thing he registered was laying down on something... not soft, exactly, but definitely not hard enough or cold enough to be some grounds in an alleyway, which meant h--
Fjfaklsdaj OH ******** HELL THERE WENT THE PAIN SWITCH FLICKING ON.
It hit him like a ton of bricks the moment he opened his eyes, too, letting out a pathetically weak sounding gargling snarl as his whole BODY seized up in one big pile of ouch. It felt like he'd just choked down a whole bag full of copper flavored candies or, hell, maybe just straight copper chunks? Or was that blood?
Ick, could've been that last one.
"Wh... what th'hell?..." He only realized his mouth felt swollen when he tried coherent speech, too, secretly praying with as much coherence as possible, wherever he was and whatever new horror happened to be upon him, that his damn teeth were all still intact after that a*****e Xeric's FIST trying to knock them out repeatedly.
Of which, on that note... where had that Xeric and his little buddies run off to, again?
And why was he staring at a saggy ceiling?
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Posted: Wed Feb 04, 2009 6:59 pm
Con’s sole whole ear swiveled back as he heard the most pathetic noise ever. In his life of beating others up for money and, yeah, occasionally getting a face-full of fist or pipe himself, Con had rarely heard such a whiny little noise. Alright, so that wasn’t entirely true. He was pretty sure that he had made noises like that before.
“From unconscious to cursing in five seconds. Well done. I expected something more like, ‘where am I’ or ‘who are you’, but I suppose that’ll do. Was that supposed to be a snarl or a gargle? I really couldn’t tell.” It would have to since he doubted the kid was up to saying much else. Hopefully he’d be nice and quiet until he was healthy again, at which point Con could just hand him over to his parents and get paid. And then he’d be able to pay off his own debts and be on his merry way without having to look over his shoulder. Con looked over his shoulder now at the pathetic lump of rich-kid on his bed.
It was hard to believe that this was the child of two of the more influential kanus in the city. He sure didn’t have any coin on him. Con had already checked naturally. The white kanus scooped out some of the soup before limping over to Jasper, idly wondering if he would need to feed him by hand or not. Hopefully not; the other kanus still had one working arm after all.
“My name is Con and I saved your life. Can you sit up, or do I have to hand feed you? Don’t bother trying to use your arm. You’ll just ruin the bandaging job.” The soup was offered, along with a spoon, but apparently explanations weren’t on the menu tonight. Nor did Con ask for any reasons why the kid was getting several types of snot beaten out of it. The less he knew, the better.
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