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Prologue - The Alley
I can feel my arm. It's the first thing that goes through my head as I open my eye get my first look at a world on fire. That seems like a simple thing, I can feel my arm but it really isn't, trash cans are simple things (you throw trash in them) and what I feel in this moment really isn't.
When I say I can feel it, that's not a joke. Its a rea- reali- reality, like the sun rising everyday. And when I say that I can feel it that means I can really feel it. Like not just like normal feeling. Fuck I'm just saying the same shit. This is fucked. 'My head fucking hurts' I think as my tear filled vision finally clears and I get a good look at just how utterly up shit creek I am. My right arm doesn't look much like an arm any more. More like burnt meat and as I choke out a heat filled gasp and taste blood on my tongue I know that its more than just that.
The ground is too hot and littered with smoking trash I try not to think about the pain but every time I groan it spikes. Every time I breathe it feels like I'm being punched in the gut. So I breathe through my nose and choke down the pain and horror of this situ- situ- situ- fuck I know that word I swear. I flex my left hand and see that it's just slightly singed, not burnt to a crisp like the other one. While doing my best not to sob openly I plant my good hand on the ground like a... a plant? And focus on putting everything I've got into pushing myself up from where I am.
*(Brawn AC = 4, Brawn Score = 3, Roll 1 = 1 (Bad Fail - Injury), Roll 2 = 3 (Minor Fail - Pain), Roll 3 = 3 (Minor Fail - Pain))
I huff and I puff and I push. I hear the squelch of my skin tearing off the dead nerves in my arm and fail to hold back a scream. And suddenly the pain is too much. My left arm fails and I land hard back on the trash, ash and dirt of the alley. 'Maybe if I adjust myself this will be easier' I wonder as I start to roll, only to shriek as I don't roll enough. I close my eyes and grit my teeth before attempting that again and this time it doesn't fail completely even if it still hurts like a motherfucker.
I lay on my side gasping for barely a second before I start to hear voices and something in me screams that I need to go. I don't know where the feeling comes from but my gut tells me it's right even if I can't tell why it does. Think it's right I mean. Fuck I'm bad at this. Why can't I remember how I got here? The voices grow closer and I stop that thought dead. The sense of wrongness is abso- abso- certain? Yes, certain now. I really need to get up.
*(Brawn Ac = 4 -1(Desperation) = 3, Brawn Score = 3, Roll 1 = 1(Bad Fail - I'm Bleeding), Roll 2 = 5 (Success))
I take a deep breath and snarl, wincing as I do so. My hand plants on the ground and I push myself up as hard as I can. The squelching sound makes me feel sick and the pain is excruciating enough that I think I missed a chunk of glass now embedded in my left hand. I try not to scream, try not to make a sound as the squelching ends with a dull plop. I slump heavily against the wall as I try not to think about how that charred strip of muck is my own skin. I try so hard to ignore that and fail. A dry heave leaves me and it isn't particularly dry. A spatter of blood hits the dirt but I ignore it and decide to start moving instead.
The wall is cold compared to the fire above and around. I force myself to push myself off the coldness, the sweet relief and use that push off to make unsteady steps before colliding and howling as the insane pain returns. Damnit, so don't land hard on burned stuff, fuck I'm a goddamn idiot. Short drags then, until I can start walking properly. I whine pitifully as I start this gruelling process before snarling as the voices I had been ignoring reveal themselves as far too close.
"Hey boss we got a live one." One of the young men in gang colours shouts in English before repeating himself in... some language. Is that Japanese? Korean? Fuck if I know, don't speak either one. I ignore them as I continue to drag myself forward along the wall. Even with my working ear ringing I can hear the caut- caut- crunch of boots as they approach me slowly. Like I am in any shape to fight them. They talk among themselves but I can't understand a word of it either way its giving me a headache. This is taking too long.
A deeper snarl leaves my lips as I push off the wall and start to take short pain filled steps on my own two feet. I'm missing a boot, with the one I'm wearing being more of a hinde- hinder- hindrance than a help at this point. I ignore the laughs as I stumble and hit the opposite wall heavily with my left hand. There I steady myself before kicking off my odd boot and resuming my short walk in my socks. My stumbles lessen even if my whining and crying doesn't something scrapes the ground behind me and only now do I know that I've been hearing it the whole time.
Why haven't they jumped me yet?
I glance back and see the group of five men flinch as they point their weapons at me. Two have guns and for some reason they seem afraid. One mutters desperately into a radio in Chinese or something as I turn away and continue my limp forward. They don't try to stop me. Barely five yards from then does a spell of dizziness take me and I take a moment to rest my good arm against a nearby trashcan. It takes a weird amount of effort to raise it from my side so that I can clatter it against the top of the tube can.
Wait that's not a fucking hand, that's a goddamn claw. An ugly heavy meaty armoured thing that I didn't have a second ago. Fuck did I get powers. I stare at the claw as the men make a fearful circle around me and then wonder just how this works. Was it just one claw or did I get another? How do I make it do this? I think about it shrinking really hard and continue watching as it does nothing. How does this work? I feel... I feel nothing inside that could make this happen. Like no switch or anything like that.
God this sucks. The thought barely works its way through my brain before the heavy steps of someone else makes itself known. And with those steps comes a heat that makes me shiver. The men surrounding me move away to the opposite side of me, I don't know if its because they want to stop me from running or because they too are scared of the heat. I hazard a glance towards the source of the noise and feel something very wrong settle in my stomach as the man in the silver dragon mask casually makes his way forward like the trail of fire he leaves behind him is normal. It isn't is it? I don't think so but even so I have no idea who that is. There is something strong about the way he walks, something more than strong with the way he holds himself. I don't know the word for it.
I don't understand what he could want until a growling laugh leaves his lips as he smiles at me. It is a smile, one of some. All I know is that it makes me just a little angry as well as dump a whole lot of pants shitting terror in my gullet. I want to rage at him for his smile, for his look, for the way he walks but I can't move. I can't even speak as he looks me up and down for... some reason. And then he speaks.
"It seems you've got spirit girl, though I suppose the ugly ones always do." He laughs in a way that's more of a growl and its like a switch has been flicked. I square my shoulders even though it hurts and glare at the man. The terror is gone and in its place is the will to do... something.
But what the hell could I do against a solid block of muscle like him?
And why the fuck isn't he wearing a shirt?
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(The Dragon seems amused, maybe he might let me go?)
Response?
[x][Run from him. Fuck this Shit.]
[x][Limp past him. Slowly.]
[x][Hit the Bastard.]
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