Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2012 3:39:05 GMT -5
Tears don't suit this city, was all Carmine could think as he stood on top of the highest building in Satan City. The Cyclone idled next to him, its engine a soft purr.
He had always wondered how it was that he could feel as strongly as he did about things. After all, he was metal and wires, a machine. Could a machine feel? Did a robot have a soul? Lately he wondered if there was something about himself he didn't know.
"You came," rang a soft voice from behind him. He turned, and found himself looking at a young girl, not even in her mid twenties yet. By todays standards, little more than a baby.
"I respond to every inquiry, even the ones on post-it notes stuck to my motorcycle while I'm not looking," Carmine said sarcastically. He held up the bright yellow note asking him to be on top of this building that evening, "I'm assuming you're Sandra."
The girl stepped closer to him. She wore bleached jeans and a black teeshirt under a puffed orange jacket that looked several sizes too big for her. "I hear you help people."
"I do, though these days I have to ask for a price."
"Tough times."
"You don't know the half of it." Carmine knew that despite the broadcasting of the world's troubles, most people kept themselves deaf to much of what was going on. He hoped that she didn't know half of the danger she was in with Suki out there, or Meishi out there, or any of the other superhuman monsters that could be out there. The people were having enough trouble with other people. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"My brother Dean is missing. He vanished about a week ago."
"Can't go to the cops?"
"Can anyone?" This girl was sharper than she looked.
"Any idea where he might have gone? Kidnapping? Run away?"
"I think he ran off...he had been talking about becoming the world's best martial artist..."
"So maybe he snuck off to join the Victory School or the Turtle School..." Hell, Carmine figured even the Crane School wouldn't be so bad.
"I doubt it...I think he went off to join the White Demon school..."
"Never heard of it."
"A bunch of kids have been joining up. It's a real underground kind of thing, but they all have tattoos of an ivory white demon with purple eyes. They're real hush hush about what goes on, but they're rabid recruiters."
Carmine gritted his teeth. First he brought down the Devil's Head. Then he killed Hell's Banker. Now he was being asked to oust the White Demon school? He wouldn't need three guesses to figure out who was behind this. He walked to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll take the job, but if your brother joined up I can't guarantee he'll be safe or even alive. He might not want to come home."
"I won't pay you if you don't deliver results."
Carmine smiled and walked away from her. He slung his leg over The Cyclone and settled into the seat before looking at her. "Smart kid," he said, before kicking the bike into gear and riding away down into the city.
This Samael character kept popping up in the city's sadness, and it was all Carmine could do to put a stop to each of his endeavors individually. When he'd seen the man during his brief stay on the Galleon, he didn't seem like all that much - maybe only a little bit more powerful than he'd been before joining up with Ryota. Carmine was certain he could take Samael on, but it had become clear that open conflict was not Samael's game.
One question remained: What was?
Normally, our Android hero would ask around in bars and other seedy, downtrodden places for information. Tonight, however, he would need to hit up someplace a little bit different: the local Arcade. If the White Demons were recruiting kids, then he would need to ask kids.
He parked the Cyclone outside of the Arcade, a surprisingly large place with loud music that could be heard from the street even with the door shut. Carmine stepped inside and it was like walking into a German rave club. The only lights inside were blacklights, the odd laserlight here and there, and the lights from the games themselves. The place house an eclectic mix of classic arcade cabinets and more modern PC gaming stations, as well as a dry bar and a small dance floor. This place's whole business was getting the kids to spend their allowances on anything and everything.
The place was alive with teenagers. Awkward, gawky, hormonal kids as far as the eye could see, and almost no power to speak of amongst them...except at a very specific gaming station.
Carmine recieved a number of odd looks as he made his way to the 'World Martial Arts Tournament XIII' machine, where there was a big crowd of teenagers watching. The game setup was actually one of those old school virtual reality rigs - two players would stand on opposing platforms, wearing headsets, gloves, and boots that were all attached to the central gaming console. In this game, they played as competitors in a major martial arts tournament.
The two players on the platforms couldn't have been older than sixteen. One was a broad, strong kid with a lettermen jacket - clearly a school athlete. The other was more wiry, shorter, wearing a tanktop shirt and cargo shorts. The only really remarkable thing about him was the tattoo on his shoulder - a white demon with purple eyes.
He watched as the wiry kid completely destroyed the athlete in the game three rounds in a row before the athlete gave up.
"Come on back if you wanna try again, Shun!" the wiry kid shouted, "Anyone else? Who's next to fight The Ronqueror"
"The...Ronqueror?" Carmine said under his breath as he stepped forward through the throng of cheering teenagers. He spoke up, "I'll step up to the plate, if you'll make a wager."
His challenge hushed the crowd, and the wiry kid smirked.
"Sure thing, old timer! How about if I win, I get that sword of yours?"
Carmine smiled. "Sure. And if I win, you tell me where you got that tattoo of yours."
The wiry kid's expression changed for only a split second. He didn't look afraid, or nervous, or even triumphant. Carmine registered the brief change as confusion. Carmine stepped up onto the platform and put on the headset, gloves, and boots.
What came next could most simply be described as The Ronqueror's most humiliating loss of all time. Carmine put the kid down within seconds of the opening bell of the fight, and that was when he knew that the game was rigged. It was rigged to read and react to the ki energy coming off of an individual player - such was why the wiry kid was so good at it, but at the same time was no contest against Carmine. This machine was meant for recruiting.
"I guess you win, old timer."
"Didn't even have to draw my sword. So about that tattoo?"
The kid looked at Carmine hard, and then stepped off of the platform. "Come with me, I'll tell you all about it."
Carmine followed The Ronqueror to an elevator tucked into the back of the Arcade, hidden by the dry bar. The kid pressed the call button, and when the elevator arrived he beckoned Carmine in with him. He followed, and once the doors were closed, the kid put a small key into the control console, and the elevator went down. It went down past the basement, and down further still until Carmine estimated that they were fifty or sixty feet below sewer level. This Arcade was a fucking front.
The elevator doors opened to reveal the inside of a traditional styled martial arts dojo, but with a certain dark flair to it. Fog coated the mats on the floor, and wherever there would have been an image of a Buddha or other wise figure, there was a dancing white demon with purple eyes holding a rather nasty-looking knife. Young boys and girls were training forms on the mats, following the movements of an older man with one eye.
""Welcome to the White Demon School. Go on in and wait off to the side. When the lesson is done, tell them Ron said you're legit." With that, Ron pushed Carmine off the elevator, waved, and then the elevator was closed and gone.
If this had been a room full of thugs and criminals, adults who had made their choices and made them bad, Carmine would have just started punching and kicking. But this was a room full of kids with just one criminal. So instead, he did as told - he stood off to the side and watched.
None of the kids showed any real power - a few hundred here, a few hundred there. They had potential, but little more. The man training them, however, was impressive for a human. He easily outclassed Oda, and while that wasn't much compared to many of the fighters Carmine had met, or even Carmine himself, it was something to take note of. And just like that, before Carmine knew it, the lesson was over and the students were pouring out through an exit he hadn't seen. The teacher strode over to Carmine, a big smile on his one-eyed face.
"You are?"
"Carmine. Ron says I'm legit."
"Good to know. You're a good bit older than our other students, and you don't...read right..."
"Yeah I'm not here to join up."
"Didn't think so," the man clenched his fists and took a step back, "What's your angle?"
"Lookin for a kid named Dean. His sister is worried about him." Carmine put a hand on his sword.
"Tell her Dean is just fine. He's my most promising new pupil, maybe you saw him. Tall kid, short hair. Impeccable form, if a bit stiff on the execution."
Carmine had in fact noticed Dean, had known him almost instantly. It helped that there was clear family resemblance, and he looked like the right size for the orange jacket his sister had been wearing.
"He's gonna have to come with me."
"I think not, Carmine. See, he's on the fast track to recieving the Demon's Blessing, as I have."
"Enough of this."
With that, Carmine drew his sword and brought it to bear on the Demon Sensei. The man managed to dodge, if only barely, and jumped back almost a dozen feet. Carmine advanced, though not before the Sensei began throwing black balls of ki energy at the android. Carmine didn't even bother to dodge, instead letting the attacks strike true, tearing his clothes and in a few places his artificial skin. He'd found that sometimes letting his nature show was a greater intimidation factor than his sword.
The Demon Sensei was not intimidated, but instead laughed.
"He said an android would come looking for me eventually! He knew it! You think you're so good, so righteous? Well here's what he has to say about that!"
The Demon Sensei pulled a small black detonator with a bright red button from his gi. With a laugh, he went to press the button. The click never sounded, the pressure of the button on his thumb never registered, and the building still stood. This was all because Carmine had lopped the man's arm off at the elbow before he could activate the detonator.
"Now count up your sins."
The man let out a shout, but was quickly silenced when Carmine grabbed the top of his head and turned it around, snapping his neck. He was dead before he hit the ground.
When Carmine turned around, all of the students were cowering in the doorway.
"Go home, all of you. If you want to be martial artists, join a real school. Victory, Turtle, anything. Martial arts are not about being a badass, or being powerful, or being popular. They are about protecting yourself and those around you from those who would misuse their gifts. They are about defending the smiles of everyone you care about - your mothers, your fathers, your brothers, and your sisters," he looked at Dean as he said 'sisters', "A teacher is not supposed to pull a fucking BOMB DETONATOR on his students. A teacher is not supposed to play favorites. A teacher is there to protect you just as much as he is there to train you. Now get out of here, all of you, and if you think I won't know if you didn't go home you're dead fucking wrong."
The room emptied like a bar on karaoke night. Carmine nodded, and waited for them all to be on the elevator and out to safety before disarming the detonator and trashing the dojo for good measure. When he called the elevator and went to leave the building, he got more of the same odd looks, but he didn't care. He hopped on the Cyclone and headed off.
The next night he found himself on the same rooftop at the same time, having recieved almost the same post-it note on his motorcycle. Like clockwork, her voice came from behind him.
"Dean came home."
"I had a feeling he would."
"He won't talk about what happened."
"Don't force it. Probably saw something he wasn't meant to see."
"He still wants to learn Martial Arts."
"Let him. Just make sure he joined a reputable school."
Carmine finally turned to look at her. She wasn't wearing the coat anymore, but it was definitely her. She was cute.
"I brought the money."
"Good. Also, you know I have a phone number, right?"
"I figured you'd notice the post-its."
"I won't always be in the city limits. Call me next time."
"Let's hope there won't BE a next time."
Amen, thought Carmine.
He had always wondered how it was that he could feel as strongly as he did about things. After all, he was metal and wires, a machine. Could a machine feel? Did a robot have a soul? Lately he wondered if there was something about himself he didn't know.
"You came," rang a soft voice from behind him. He turned, and found himself looking at a young girl, not even in her mid twenties yet. By todays standards, little more than a baby.
"I respond to every inquiry, even the ones on post-it notes stuck to my motorcycle while I'm not looking," Carmine said sarcastically. He held up the bright yellow note asking him to be on top of this building that evening, "I'm assuming you're Sandra."
The girl stepped closer to him. She wore bleached jeans and a black teeshirt under a puffed orange jacket that looked several sizes too big for her. "I hear you help people."
"I do, though these days I have to ask for a price."
"Tough times."
"You don't know the half of it." Carmine knew that despite the broadcasting of the world's troubles, most people kept themselves deaf to much of what was going on. He hoped that she didn't know half of the danger she was in with Suki out there, or Meishi out there, or any of the other superhuman monsters that could be out there. The people were having enough trouble with other people. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"My brother Dean is missing. He vanished about a week ago."
"Can't go to the cops?"
"Can anyone?" This girl was sharper than she looked.
"Any idea where he might have gone? Kidnapping? Run away?"
"I think he ran off...he had been talking about becoming the world's best martial artist..."
"So maybe he snuck off to join the Victory School or the Turtle School..." Hell, Carmine figured even the Crane School wouldn't be so bad.
"I doubt it...I think he went off to join the White Demon school..."
"Never heard of it."
"A bunch of kids have been joining up. It's a real underground kind of thing, but they all have tattoos of an ivory white demon with purple eyes. They're real hush hush about what goes on, but they're rabid recruiters."
Carmine gritted his teeth. First he brought down the Devil's Head. Then he killed Hell's Banker. Now he was being asked to oust the White Demon school? He wouldn't need three guesses to figure out who was behind this. He walked to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll take the job, but if your brother joined up I can't guarantee he'll be safe or even alive. He might not want to come home."
"I won't pay you if you don't deliver results."
Carmine smiled and walked away from her. He slung his leg over The Cyclone and settled into the seat before looking at her. "Smart kid," he said, before kicking the bike into gear and riding away down into the city.
This Samael character kept popping up in the city's sadness, and it was all Carmine could do to put a stop to each of his endeavors individually. When he'd seen the man during his brief stay on the Galleon, he didn't seem like all that much - maybe only a little bit more powerful than he'd been before joining up with Ryota. Carmine was certain he could take Samael on, but it had become clear that open conflict was not Samael's game.
One question remained: What was?
Normally, our Android hero would ask around in bars and other seedy, downtrodden places for information. Tonight, however, he would need to hit up someplace a little bit different: the local Arcade. If the White Demons were recruiting kids, then he would need to ask kids.
He parked the Cyclone outside of the Arcade, a surprisingly large place with loud music that could be heard from the street even with the door shut. Carmine stepped inside and it was like walking into a German rave club. The only lights inside were blacklights, the odd laserlight here and there, and the lights from the games themselves. The place house an eclectic mix of classic arcade cabinets and more modern PC gaming stations, as well as a dry bar and a small dance floor. This place's whole business was getting the kids to spend their allowances on anything and everything.
The place was alive with teenagers. Awkward, gawky, hormonal kids as far as the eye could see, and almost no power to speak of amongst them...except at a very specific gaming station.
Carmine recieved a number of odd looks as he made his way to the 'World Martial Arts Tournament XIII' machine, where there was a big crowd of teenagers watching. The game setup was actually one of those old school virtual reality rigs - two players would stand on opposing platforms, wearing headsets, gloves, and boots that were all attached to the central gaming console. In this game, they played as competitors in a major martial arts tournament.
The two players on the platforms couldn't have been older than sixteen. One was a broad, strong kid with a lettermen jacket - clearly a school athlete. The other was more wiry, shorter, wearing a tanktop shirt and cargo shorts. The only really remarkable thing about him was the tattoo on his shoulder - a white demon with purple eyes.
He watched as the wiry kid completely destroyed the athlete in the game three rounds in a row before the athlete gave up.
"Come on back if you wanna try again, Shun!" the wiry kid shouted, "Anyone else? Who's next to fight The Ronqueror"
"The...Ronqueror?" Carmine said under his breath as he stepped forward through the throng of cheering teenagers. He spoke up, "I'll step up to the plate, if you'll make a wager."
His challenge hushed the crowd, and the wiry kid smirked.
"Sure thing, old timer! How about if I win, I get that sword of yours?"
Carmine smiled. "Sure. And if I win, you tell me where you got that tattoo of yours."
The wiry kid's expression changed for only a split second. He didn't look afraid, or nervous, or even triumphant. Carmine registered the brief change as confusion. Carmine stepped up onto the platform and put on the headset, gloves, and boots.
What came next could most simply be described as The Ronqueror's most humiliating loss of all time. Carmine put the kid down within seconds of the opening bell of the fight, and that was when he knew that the game was rigged. It was rigged to read and react to the ki energy coming off of an individual player - such was why the wiry kid was so good at it, but at the same time was no contest against Carmine. This machine was meant for recruiting.
"I guess you win, old timer."
"Didn't even have to draw my sword. So about that tattoo?"
The kid looked at Carmine hard, and then stepped off of the platform. "Come with me, I'll tell you all about it."
Carmine followed The Ronqueror to an elevator tucked into the back of the Arcade, hidden by the dry bar. The kid pressed the call button, and when the elevator arrived he beckoned Carmine in with him. He followed, and once the doors were closed, the kid put a small key into the control console, and the elevator went down. It went down past the basement, and down further still until Carmine estimated that they were fifty or sixty feet below sewer level. This Arcade was a fucking front.
The elevator doors opened to reveal the inside of a traditional styled martial arts dojo, but with a certain dark flair to it. Fog coated the mats on the floor, and wherever there would have been an image of a Buddha or other wise figure, there was a dancing white demon with purple eyes holding a rather nasty-looking knife. Young boys and girls were training forms on the mats, following the movements of an older man with one eye.
""Welcome to the White Demon School. Go on in and wait off to the side. When the lesson is done, tell them Ron said you're legit." With that, Ron pushed Carmine off the elevator, waved, and then the elevator was closed and gone.
If this had been a room full of thugs and criminals, adults who had made their choices and made them bad, Carmine would have just started punching and kicking. But this was a room full of kids with just one criminal. So instead, he did as told - he stood off to the side and watched.
None of the kids showed any real power - a few hundred here, a few hundred there. They had potential, but little more. The man training them, however, was impressive for a human. He easily outclassed Oda, and while that wasn't much compared to many of the fighters Carmine had met, or even Carmine himself, it was something to take note of. And just like that, before Carmine knew it, the lesson was over and the students were pouring out through an exit he hadn't seen. The teacher strode over to Carmine, a big smile on his one-eyed face.
"You are?"
"Carmine. Ron says I'm legit."
"Good to know. You're a good bit older than our other students, and you don't...read right..."
"Yeah I'm not here to join up."
"Didn't think so," the man clenched his fists and took a step back, "What's your angle?"
"Lookin for a kid named Dean. His sister is worried about him." Carmine put a hand on his sword.
"Tell her Dean is just fine. He's my most promising new pupil, maybe you saw him. Tall kid, short hair. Impeccable form, if a bit stiff on the execution."
Carmine had in fact noticed Dean, had known him almost instantly. It helped that there was clear family resemblance, and he looked like the right size for the orange jacket his sister had been wearing.
"He's gonna have to come with me."
"I think not, Carmine. See, he's on the fast track to recieving the Demon's Blessing, as I have."
"Enough of this."
With that, Carmine drew his sword and brought it to bear on the Demon Sensei. The man managed to dodge, if only barely, and jumped back almost a dozen feet. Carmine advanced, though not before the Sensei began throwing black balls of ki energy at the android. Carmine didn't even bother to dodge, instead letting the attacks strike true, tearing his clothes and in a few places his artificial skin. He'd found that sometimes letting his nature show was a greater intimidation factor than his sword.
The Demon Sensei was not intimidated, but instead laughed.
"He said an android would come looking for me eventually! He knew it! You think you're so good, so righteous? Well here's what he has to say about that!"
The Demon Sensei pulled a small black detonator with a bright red button from his gi. With a laugh, he went to press the button. The click never sounded, the pressure of the button on his thumb never registered, and the building still stood. This was all because Carmine had lopped the man's arm off at the elbow before he could activate the detonator.
"Now count up your sins."
The man let out a shout, but was quickly silenced when Carmine grabbed the top of his head and turned it around, snapping his neck. He was dead before he hit the ground.
When Carmine turned around, all of the students were cowering in the doorway.
"Go home, all of you. If you want to be martial artists, join a real school. Victory, Turtle, anything. Martial arts are not about being a badass, or being powerful, or being popular. They are about protecting yourself and those around you from those who would misuse their gifts. They are about defending the smiles of everyone you care about - your mothers, your fathers, your brothers, and your sisters," he looked at Dean as he said 'sisters', "A teacher is not supposed to pull a fucking BOMB DETONATOR on his students. A teacher is not supposed to play favorites. A teacher is there to protect you just as much as he is there to train you. Now get out of here, all of you, and if you think I won't know if you didn't go home you're dead fucking wrong."
The room emptied like a bar on karaoke night. Carmine nodded, and waited for them all to be on the elevator and out to safety before disarming the detonator and trashing the dojo for good measure. When he called the elevator and went to leave the building, he got more of the same odd looks, but he didn't care. He hopped on the Cyclone and headed off.
The next night he found himself on the same rooftop at the same time, having recieved almost the same post-it note on his motorcycle. Like clockwork, her voice came from behind him.
"Dean came home."
"I had a feeling he would."
"He won't talk about what happened."
"Don't force it. Probably saw something he wasn't meant to see."
"He still wants to learn Martial Arts."
"Let him. Just make sure he joined a reputable school."
Carmine finally turned to look at her. She wasn't wearing the coat anymore, but it was definitely her. She was cute.
"I brought the money."
"Good. Also, you know I have a phone number, right?"
"I figured you'd notice the post-its."
"I won't always be in the city limits. Call me next time."
"Let's hope there won't BE a next time."
Amen, thought Carmine.
