Requiem 08: Endgame
It's not a terrifically long walk from Akihiko's to the Bonnes' Machine Shop now that he's actually got directions, and the odds of Tom winding
up at a weird school in the dead-end of nowhere is pretty low, unless geography decides to play
ring around the rosey with him against all known laws of physics. Granted, in this town, that's not impossible, considering what he's seen...
Tom makes his way there quite easily - Akihiko's shortcut proves to be a nice timesaver.
The shop window has an 'open' sign turned towards it.
Considering everything that's happened to him so far, it's not too out of the question for a cyborg-swallowing sinkhole to suddenly conjure itself into
the world. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time common sense breaks for the sake of damning Tom. At least he made it there without being sidetracked too
much.
Roll looks up as he enters, a grin spreading over her face. "Hiya handsome," she chirps, wiping some of the engine grease off on a nearby cloth and
standing from the vacuum she was repairing. "What's up? I don't remember you having an appointment with us today..."
"Oh, hey Roll," Tom says as his legs carry him into the garage proper, "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call. I got a bit lost on the way back
from the Hospital." The telltale whirring of his mechanical parts halt as he grinds to a stop, "I'm just checking in- to see if you guys
discovered anything interesting about these things."
"Well..." Roll slides her hands behind her back. "Rock's kinda out of it at the moment, and Tron's been taking care of him the whole
day...so nothing's really been found yet."
She adds "sorry" as she wipes off the rest of the grease.
"Oh, well..." That was discouraging. Even after coming all this way... "Well, is there anything I can do around here? I really have nothing
planned until later on tonight."
"Well..." She thinks about it for a moment, tapping her chin. "One sec!"
She darts off into the back room, shouting 'Tron!' at the top of her voice.
A few minutes later, she runs out, passing Tom. She strings a piece of paper over the 'open' sign and grins, turning on her heel. "You can buy me
lunch. I haven't eaten yet."
"Been working on this computer for Miss Toriumi all morning."
'...Taking care of him the whole da- Toriumi?' Well well... "Sure! I've got enough time to spare. So, where do you want to go?" He
follows her exit, halting the door with a metal sole, "I'm pretty open when it comes to food."
"I like Chinese. There's a place down the street..." Hint hint.
"Chinese is fine with me. Northern or Southern?" Hint recieved!
"I'm pretty partial to dimsum and noodles myself, but I can go with the southern rice dishes, too."
"Southern."
Ten minutes later, at Ba Kensei's Excellent Cooking Palace...
"Mmmmm...the chef here cooks the best rice," Roll cheerily says as she swallows another mouthful. "The best in the city!'
"It's soooo good. Thanks for treating me!"
Ba Kensei... Why did that sound so familiar? Well, if it's southern, then he's probably having a seafood dish, "Huh. This recipe is... Fukien
Province, I think." He shovels a spoonful of rice into his mouth. Savory, served with seafood and sauce. Definitely from that province...
"You've travelled a lot, Tom?" She asks.
"Haha. If you call a love for global cuisine traveling."
"But yeah, I've done a bit of traveling in my time."
"I had no idea." She takes another bite of her rice.
"You don't seem like the kinda guy who knows that much about food. Or anything...but I guess you can't be fooled by a pretty face!"
He takes in another mouthful, chewing for a moment before swallowing, "Well, I'm certainly pretty... Wait, are you calling me dim?"
She laughs and finishes off her rice, moving to the next bowl (goodness, she can pack it away for such a small girl). "It's a real change from when
Rock, Tron, and I lived in Pendragon."
"Fish, chips and curry with chicken all day long was it?" He chuckles, sipping at the house's black tea. Oolong, good stuff, "I hear that.
No offense to my own people, but our cooking is pretty horrible."
"Well...Pendragon doesn't have many other places to eat, either," she agrees sadly. "So it wasn't till we moved here that I got a taste
of other cultures."
"Yeah, but that's what happens with imperialistic cultures. Everything is either localized or diluted. The chinese we have there is..." A visible
shudder. Seems that once you try the real deal, there's no turning back...
"One thing... Isn't Ba Kensei..."
"...Uhm... I've heard of him somewhere before."
"...Anyway, you said that Miss Toriumi has a vaccuum over at your place?"
"He was the winner of the Gundamfight about ten years back...he was the Chinese Federation Gundamfighter until Master Asia took over."
Roll swallows more of her rice. "You know, before we won and called it off for good."
"I need to visit her sometime, have a few questions... Oh! That's right!"
"I remember watching him fight..."
"Man, those days were pretty dangerous, with robots coming out of every other building, but I kind of miss it."
"He's still a really strong martial artist, he does demonstrations at the festival. Hey, speaking of the festival..."
"...you got a date yet?" She leans forward, resting her chin on her hands.
Ah crap... "Uhm... Well, Fuuka already asked me earlier today..."
"Oh. Well, that's cool. I'll find somebody." She makes a face. "I just hate being a third wheel to Tron and Rock."
Lord almighty, two in one day. Either men are few and far between in this city, or Tom is hot as all hell.
"Yeah, I know how you feel."
"Hey, what about boss?"
"...Or Junpei. I think he's out a date, too."
"...you're joking, right?" She makes a face. "Junpei's not my type."
"Who's 'boss'?"
He chuckles, ruffling his short blonde hair, "Yeah, I figured. Poor guy. Oh, my Boss."
"Um..." She thinks for a moment. "...who?"
"Boss, he's the guy I work for... Well, one of them. He doesn't get out much, but it's more than Headphones does," Tom pops a shrimp into
his mouth...
"Headphones I wouldn't wish on anyone. Not 'till Yuka wakes him up anyway. But Boss is a pretty alright guy- and I can see if I can't convince
him to 'investigate' the festival."
"Ah...hah..." She mutters. "If it's all the same to you, I think I can find my own date..."
"But hey, a girl like you? I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a date."
"You'd be surprised how few guys find it attractive to be covered in engine grease." She makes a face.
"Heh, you'd be surprised how many guys are more obsessed with cars than they are with finding a girl."
"We don't do cars," she says after a moment, looking down. "We're more specialized."
"Huh? Specialized?"
"I know you guys do cybernetics... If it's not cars then boats? Planes?"
"No, home machines."
"Vacuums, computers, that kind of thing."
"Ah! Okay then!"
"Hmm..."
"There's actually a lot of demand for it here."
"...Is there? You guys don't have much competition?"
"Nope!"
"And VitaTech gives us a lot of contracts, so that helps."
"Small business being supported by big business isn't something you see in Britannia too often."
"VitaTech does? Interesting, I've been looking into them for a while. Got any juicy stories?"
"Not really," she laments. "They just bring us computers a lot."
"Computers......Mind if I take a look later?"
"We don't have anything in-shop right now. They've been pretty quiet lately with the tech support."
Miiiight have been his fault... "Well, there goes that lead... Hey, if you've finished that vaccuum, I could go deliver it for you. I needed to talk
to Ms. Toriumi anyway."
She finishes off her rice and holds up her finger. "Can I get some more, please?!" She asks as the waiter passes. She turns her attention back to
Tom. "Sure."
Hole in pocket. Burning. Tom twitches juuuust a bit. On the inside. Where she can't see, "Awesome. There's a student I need to ask her
about."
The rest of lunch continues rather uneventfully; the price is rather fair for such good food, and the way back to the shop is mostly okay...
...well, at least, until Shinji falls out of an alley, rubbing his jaw. "Bastard," he hisses, pulling himself to his feet. He looks rather bruised
and bloody.
Tom stops in his tracks. Well, he wasn't expecting that... Priorities first, he'd hurry to close the distance, "Shinji, what happened?"
Genuinely concerned, and probably significantly worried. Thugs? Or...
"Not your problem. You better leave..." He glances back at Roll, who makes a little 'oh' sound as he pulls a dagger out of his pocket.
"It's nothing to do with them."
He had better leave? Not with Shinji in bad shape he wouldn't... "Hey, I'm crazy enough to punch a chestburster, so don't worry about
me,"
Tom threw a concerned glance at the young girl over his shoulder, turning back toward Shinji after a quick moment, "Anyway, if I'm leaving, you're
coming with. I doubt Akihiko would let me drink at his place again if he knew I left you here."
Roll's hand goes into her purse, no doubt to fetch some form of pepper spray or another; Shinji frowns. "Look, this has nothing to do with you."
He hisses.
From the alley, someone laughs.
A man, or at least, someone over sixteen; a half-mask, white and featureless, hide the left half of his face, but the manic grin, black hair, and bright blue
eye are still visible. "Friends of yours, Shinji?" He practically purrs.
Of note is the cleaver in his hand. A large butcher knife, and it's got blood on it. Probably Shinji's. "I didn't know you had any...this
makes it a whole new sort of fun!"
Tom swivels himself about to face the man with the butcher. That could hurt a bit- actually, more like a lot. Let's hope it couldn't cut metal as well
as it could cut flesh, "I'm sorry, and you are?"
The man with the butcher knife's grin widens, and he licks his lips in an altogether creepy way - the way that screams 'Hi, I'm a serial
killer' to most sane people.
"You haven't heard about me? Shinji, I'm so depressed! I guess I'll just have to..."
And at the word 'to', his hand suddenly flicks to the side, and he hurls the meat cleaver at Roll. "Introduce myself!"
An attack on a lady? Not on his life. The cyborg's legs propel the rest of his body toward the apparantly defenseless young woman. Specifically: Between
her and the cleaver. Let's just hope it hits something not soft and vital.
The Cleaver fortunately slices him in the side - nothing vital, but not particularly soft, either.
The man laughs, a mad, high-pitched sound, and yanks his hand backwards. A string gleams on the cleaver, and it goes flying back to him, snagging in his hand.
His tongue falls out as he licks some of the blood off the blade. "Mmm...delicious. I approve."
He presses his finger against his mask, adopting an informal stance. "My name is Fenrir the Cutter...I'm the torture specialist for Endgame.
How-do-you-do?"
Blood pools against his shirt. He actually winced that time- the first time in a while. And just out of the hospital, too. "Fenrir? Fitting, only a dog
would attack a woman like that." Tom rights himself, assuming a more defensive stance, "Thomas Magnusson, Cyborg."
"A dog?" The man shouts, eye widening. "I'm a WOLF!" And with that, he charges, cleaver swinging upwards, ready to be brought down on
Tom like a sword of damocles.
The blade swings down, but it isn't Tom he hits - it's one of the metal arms. He snarls. "Die!"
Clink.
And this is why he wears jackets. People always seem to go for the arms when they miss the head- The cleaver slides cleanly off his shoulder, shearing the
sleeve of his coat, but otherwise not even scratching his chromed limbs.
His turn. It would be a swift jab to the face- faster than most people could blink, and probably with more force than the standard heavyweight.
Fenrir manages to tilt his head out of the way, keeping the mask intact, but the blow strikes him full in the head, sending him flying.
As he thumps against the ground once, twice, three times, Shinji moves behind Tom. "I'll keep her safe." He mutters. "You fucking
idiot...you didn't have to get involved."
Fenrir pulls himself to his feet, brushing his hand across his bloody forehead. He licks the blood from his fingers, a wicked laugh erupting from his mouth as
he stands, wobbles once, and drops the meat cleaver. It hangs there from its string like a bee's stinger as he laughs, his hand going for his pocket
"Yeah, probably not. But I'm the kind of idiot who doesn't let crap like this up and hurt a lady," He slides the rest of his arm out of his
sleeve, "Go, now! And... Thanks, Shinji."
to draw forth a handkerchief. Slowly, he mops the blood from his face, still grinning as he stows it away and draws his cleaver back into his hand.
He laughs again, charging as his cleaver spins on its string, a deadly, heavy helicopter blade ready to slice Tom into itty bitty pieces.
And by god, does it hurt - the cleaver falls, slicing deep into Tom's shoulder once, twice, three times, four, five, each time digging deeper and deeper
into the bone and metal. Ouch.
Roll and Shinji are on their way down the street already, though - so at least Tom doesn't have to worry about that.
It feels like his arm's being hacked off. Again. Not that it was ever hacked off before. Not with him concious, that is. Regardless, the fact that he was
about to use that arm probably meant that the attack he launched wouldn't quite hurt enough.
Not to do any real damage, though.
Indeed, Fenrir tilts backwards, laughing as the fist simply grazes his face. He's still laughing as the butcher's knife snaps into his hand, rises,
and...
Falls. The string snaps, the butcher's knife goes flying backwards, falling to the ground as he'd expected the string to still be there. His overuse
with the spinning seems to have snapped it; the annoyance on his face is plain.
It's the opening he needs. Even with that blood loss, and the fact that he was more than just a little bit dizzy, a real boxer always waits until just the
right moment...
To punch the other guy's living daylights in.
The momentum he launched into his straight carries over, allowing his hand to slip around 'Fenrir's' wrist. A shift in body weight hurls the other
fighter's body into the air, feet first...
And head facing the earth.
And, of course, an uppercut with an uninjured arm.
He lands with a sickening "crunch", falling to the ground and flying across the street over a car and into a crowd of onlookers (who quickly part to
allow the body to land).
Shinji and Roll return, Shinji's knife stowed back in his shirt. "...nice shot," he mutters, nursing his own (bleeding) arm.
Tom winces as he spins with his own attack, clutching at the gaping hole in his shoulder. Even through the pain, he looks relieved- and maybe just a bit
prideful, "I just hope nobody cares to ID the freight train he took to the face. You guys okay?"
"We're fine," Roll replies, "Besides, if he'd gotten near me, bam!" She mimes hitting someone in the face. "I'd've
kicked him in the balls and sprayed him in the face!"
"Hahahah..." Tom chuckles- weakly, maybe, but none-the-less, he laughs, "Yeah, I don't doubt it- not with legs like yours."
Flirting and bleeding- defeating the stereotype that guys can't multitask well. Intentional, or is it accidental?
"Yeah, tha-"
Splort.
It's a horrible sound, a bloodspray - it always means, invariably, that something was cut, deep, and near a piece of the body involving pumping blood. So
when Roll's eyes widen as her shoulder splits open, blood splattering on Tom and Shinji's faces, it's understandable that she takes a moment to go
"...ew..." before she faints.
Across the street, Fenrir the Cutter is standing - though how, after such a brutal assault, remains to be seen. His mask is shattered, blood is pouring down
his face...
...and the half his face revealed is pitch black, eyes of malevolent red. Like a Requiem.
"Hahahahahahahahahahha!" Fenrir shrieks as he charges, two fingers extended from both hands, "Endgaaaaame!" Another sweep of his hand, and
Shinji barely manages to dodge the unseen attack (through sheer luck) as it nicks across his sweater shoulder.
It takes a second for Tom to realize what just happened. His train of thought was 'What the fuck' followed by 'Shit, Roll,' and lastly,
'How the hell is he still alive?'
It's at that moment that a knee meets Fenrir's face out of nowhere - a man in a black cloak, a similar white half-mask over the right side of his face,
and a piercing bright blue eye staring out from the visible half. Fenrir makes a 'whoof' sound and falls into his arm.
The man turns to look at Tom. "You win this round," he says calmly, bowing his head as the pair vanishes.
Shinji stares at his torn sleeve, grimacing as more blood spills out of his arm. "Shit..." He mutters.
There's a sound of metal clattering. It only becomes obvious in a moment that it was Tom's arms that were shaking. He was stunned, tremoring not only
out of shock, but rage toward that Fenrir bastard, and fear for Roll- and Shinji's lives.
It's enough to get him to ignore the shards of agony embedded in his shoulder. There were more important things...
"We need to get to a hospital.
Speaking of Roll, she's currently bleeding on the street, a pool of blood forming from her very badly sliced-open shoulder. Fortunately, she's still
breathing, but it's ragged.
Tom immediately goes to her side, ripping his torn sleeve from his jacket.
Unfortunately, the cut is extremely deep - and there's no easy way to bind it with just a sleeve. She needs immediate medical attention.
He wraps it as best he can around the wound to at least try and staunch the bleeding. It likely won't do much, but it should buy time. Careful to keep her
shoulder as un-ruptured as possible, he lifts her up, strength of will allowing him to render the wound in his own arm silent, "Shinji, get on my
shoulders."
"I don't want to get lost."
Shinjiro, however, is doing the smart thing - calling someone on his StarkPhone.
Can't blame Tom. He's pretty shaken.
He slams the phone shut as ambulance sirens can be heard nearby. It's a good thing the hospital's at least somewhat close.
Well, alright. It's a good thing the city isn't too fucking enormous.
He glances around- ambulance? Good. That'll do, too.
It's no Metropolis, that's for sure.
...Well, Pendragon, in this case.
Shinjiro similarly starts making his way for the alley.
It would leave Tom there with Roll, keeping her body warm for the EMT. What else could he do? Too shaken to think rationally, too worried to put her down...
And his own blood loss would begin taking its toll as well.
It's as Tom's blacking out that the EMTs arrive. The sound of people, and the feel of himself being lifted into the air...
When he awakes, he's back in the hospital, the same group of people (sans Shinjiro) looking over him.
"Twice in one day, Magnusson," Mitsuru informs him idly.
"That must be a new record for stupid stunts."
"Nggh..." This time, he's actually in pain. Less pain than before, but still pain, "If saving people is a stupid stunt, call me
Neandrathal." He props himself up with his good arm, leaning somewhat against the limb, "Sorry about doing this so often, guys."
"I don't date neanderthals," Mitsuru idly notes. Fuuka looks down at that, and the group files out of the room as an orderly shoos them away,
informing them that 'visiting hours are over'.
Fortunately, the paperwork goes by faster this time.
He's directed to a room four halls down from his, and it's noted that that's where 'that girl who came in with you' is being kept.
Probably because he was a repeat customer. Records and such- liscences. But again, he wasn't much worried about that. He glances into the room's
window, knocking once and allowing a moment to pass before entering.
Roll is hooked up to some sort of IV, but she's awake.
However, that's not what he should be concerned about at the moment. What he should be concerned about is Tron, whose hands quickly close about his
throat.
"How could you let this happen!?" She practically shrieks.
The half of Rock in the chair (it's a rather disturbing sight, but he's a full conversion cyborg, so it's not like it's that disturbing) has a
similarly irritated look on its face.
Well, that's not a very good thing to have happen. Ever. Really. He chokes on his own words before they pass his throat. If she wants to scream at him, she
can probably do as much as she wants now.
It seems that's all she wants to do right now, as she's now devolved into incoherent shouts about how he let the girl who was practically her little
sister nearly get killed and how terrified she is that she won't make it and a whole host of other things that really don't make too much sense but are
quite plainly irritations nonetheless.
It takes a little while until he's able to speak- whether it's that he grew tired of her exclamations, or that her grip loosened, "I'm so...
sorry."
...Either way, he's able to speak- somewhat, "The bastard was something else. I don't even know what... I was sure I knocked him out. Hit him into
the sky, but..."
It's probably the second, as now she's breathing heavily, her hands lowering to her sidees.
"Just...tell me how it happened," Rock says slowly.
He rubs at his throat. That's going to leave a mark. A nod, he goes over just what happened at the encounter. Roll taking him to chinese, having the bill
forced on him. Shinji falling out of the alley, Fenrir...
They listen with a grim silence. Finally, Rock nods.
"...I'm sorry. I guess you did the best you could."
The cleaver hurled at Roll from the get-go, the details of the fight, and... "He disappeared with this weird guy. Kneed him right in the face, and said I
had 'won' this round. Funny, I don't think I 'won' much at all," he says with a sad tone, eyes drifting to Roll's ravaged
shoulder, "I'm the one who should apologize. I should have checked if he was really down before relaxing."
"...They mentioned something about Endgame. Is she going to be alright?"
"I don't know what that is," Rock admits honestly. "The doctors said she should be okay, but she's lucky to be alive. She might not be
able to use her arm again without cybernetics."
"If I thought she wasn't going to be alright," Tron mutters hoarsely, "I'd've put you back in that bed."
"It's not his fault."
"I know," she mutters bitterly, "But tell that to my angry side."
Tom scratches at his bandage, "I wouldn't actually blame you if you did. Hell, I'd be pissed too, if my little sister had her shoulder torn
apart."
"Trust me, if I see that asshole again, he's going to get more than a black eye."
She nods. "He'd better."
It dawns on him, then, that he wondered back there in that alley why the other guy wasn't -DEAD- yet. Dead? He wasn't normally someone to wish death on
anyone. Was the city starting to get to him too?
Rock, too. Being decapitated from the torso down is generally a bad thing, "...Uh. I'm guessing that's not just a flesh wound."
"I'm fine." He replies, "I'm a full conversion cyborg. The only reason I'm here like this is that we got the call while Tron and I
were fixing my legs."
"Oh. I see," that's a topic he figures he better not touch, "I was asking Roll if I could take that package to Miss Toriyumi's back when
she and I were eating. It's the least I could do for you guys now."
"H...hey..." Roll's eyes open. "Tom..."
She cracks a bit of a grin. "If...I'm out of here by next week...will you go to the...the festival with me?"
"Sorry..." Roll admonishes after a moment. "...that was mean of me. I know...you have a date already."
She calls, he answers, moving slowly toward her bedside. Ohhh boy. This'll be hard to do. "Tell you what. If you can get out here by then, I'd be
glad to. But I'll also need you to get me a way to explain it to Fuuka."
"It's okay," she murmurs, "I probably won't...be out of here by then, anyway. You don't...have to take me. I was just teasing."
"You know....lighten the mood."
"...Well, if you're not out of here by then..."
"I'm...going back to sleep now, okay? Night, hot stuff..." And with that, she drifts off.
Rock rubs the side of his head, looking annoyed. "We'll keep an eye on her," he promises.
"You don't have to deliver the package. We'll close down the shop for a few days."
"Thanks for protecting her."
"...Damn. Missed it. Mind telling her that I'll get her noodles as soon as she recovers?"
"Sure."
"Be careful, alright?"
He blinks, chuckling a bit. A hand is stuffed into his pocket- the one that's not torn up, "Don't worry about it. I'll be glad to deliver- I
need to make it up to you guys, and I'd be going over to Toriumi's anyway." 'Be careful?' It makes him feel better at least, "Yeah, I
will. Thanks."
"...the package is on the desk," Tron replies.
"Lock up behind you."
"I will," he replies, turning toward the portal, "You three take care of yourselves. If anything happens, call my cell. I'll leave the
number in the office."
"Uh-huh."
Click. He shuts the door after himself. This was really an interesting day...
And he still needed to apologize to Yukari.
Shinjiro is waiting a few blocks down. His arm is in a makeshift sling, but other than that, he seems okay.
"She alright?"
"Yeah, she's fine," he nods. Somber, still, from the sight of Roll and her injury, "How about you?"
"Aki bandaged it up."
"That's good. So I need to ask..."
"What the hell is Endgame?"
"A gang." He answers, one hand in his pocket.
"I had a contact in them...but when we met today, Fenrir tailed him."
"Found out about me and gutted the guy from head to toe with that fucking cleaver."
"I see," Tom humms, rolling his shoulder to pop the joint. It wouldn't- metal and all, "Yeah. It didn't look like he needed a cleaver
though. That bastard was weird."
"They work for VitaTech, at least informally," Shinjiro replies.
"I think the higher-ups let 'em fuck around with their bodies in exchange for power."
"VitaTech? That might explain why his eye looked so creepy."
"You think they're performing experiments with Requiems?
"Dunno."
"You think they were involved with that body you found?"
"Maybe."
"Guy might've known too much. Gotten himself in over his head, and Endgame took care of him." Shinjiro shrugs. "Just a theory."
"It makes sense. Guy was a guard, after all. And he was listed as a possible Requiem."
"...Interesting, that. If the Agency can extract Requiems and possibly put them who knows where, perhaps VitaTech simply killed two birds with one
stone."
"Mmm." Shinjiro shakes his head. "Dunno."
"Not a detective."
"I'll take it up with the boss later on. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. Be careful out there."
With that, Shinjiro departs, leaving Tom alone in front of the Twilight Detective Agency's familiar, and at least semi-inviting (kinda?) front.
"Are you Tom Magnusson?"
"I am."
It's a female voice from around the corner, and she rounds it a moment later - her face is obscured by a full white mask much like the one worn by Endgame,
and she's got...well, hell, she's got a Mitsuru-level body. Her hair is obscured by a hood and cloak, but...well, hell.
"I'd like to hire you."
"My name is Hel. I'm a member of Endgame."
"You people really like the Norse motif. What do you want?"
"It isn't just norse. It's monsters." She makes her way over, her hips swinging back and forth. "I'd like to hire you to handle
something for me."
"You've heard of the Full Moon Knight, yes?"
"I have."
"I'd like you to kill him."
"Or, at least, get him arrested."
"I don't care which. But he needs to pay."
"And why should I help a bunch of people who just sliced open a good friend of mine?"
She clenches her fist. "It isn't for Endgame."
"It's for my brother."
"And how can I be sure I trust you?"
"If you beat him," she says after a moment, adjusting her stance, "I'll tell you everything I know about Fenrir the Cutter...including where
he hangs out." Her hand traces across Tom's cheek. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind that trade."
"Considering what I heard from Roc about his little stunt with that poor girl..."
His arm trembles just slightly, "Now, that's the problem, you see."
"Besides. If you beat the Full Moon Knight, he grants you one wish, doesn't he?" Her hand returns to supporting her cleavage, a finger rising.
"You could wish her back to health."
"So what do you have to lose from helping me?"
"Dignity, self-respect? That guy, that Moon-Knight, what did he do to your brother anyway?"
"I just..." She looks away. "...he's in a coma right now. Room 406."
"The doctor said he wouldn't ever recover. His brain was damaged by the attack."
"The only reason he's still on life-support is that I wanted to use the wish to bring him back to life."
"But I can't beat him. It's all I could do to get away with my life intact."
"I'll look into it."
"That's all I ask."
"But I want to know something first."
"What is it?"
"What does Endgame have to do with the Requiems?"
"I..." She starts. "...I can't tell you."
"I'm sorry. If you beat the Full Moon Knight, maybe."
"That's fine. You've told me enough."
"...thank you." She moves, miming kissing him on the cheek, despite the full-face mask.
Tom sighs inwardly. He's too damned nice sometimes.
"I suppose I'll see you after the full moon."
"...thank you. Excuse me...I have to leave now."
"I have somewhere I have to be."
With that, she heads off, walking down the street - quite a change from the other guy's disappearance.
"I'd say be careful, but I doubt you'll need it," he murmurs, turning toward the path to the Bonne Garage. He's been down the road
before, so it shouldn't be TOO bad.
It's not. It's an easy find, the package is there...
And, hopefully, Miss Toriumi's address.
It's listed right atop the package.
At least something's going right tonight.
He hoists the package under his un-injured arm, and scribbles his phone number onto a scrap of paper.
He leaves it, quite unobtrusively in one of the desk drawers.
...And leaves. Time to talk to a teacher. He still has that book, right?
It's not long before he finds his way to her apartment - she's in a decent part of town, so that's, at least, a nice change of pace.
It was better than downtown- or the slums around the school, anyway.
He makes his way into the lobby. Elevators, elevators...
He probably needs to check with the clerk, too. If there's one there.
...Who isn't asleep.
She isn't. She helpfully informs Tom of the apartment number and calls ahead to note that there's a package and all that nice and proper stuff one
never expects a clerk to actually do competently.
That night, Beelzebub enjoyed a cold run across Cocytus. Tom proceeds to the apartment number he was given. Knock-knock...
"Hello?" Miss Toriumi opens the door, staring at him for a moment. "Oh, hi! Tom, right? We met at the outdoor market."
He nodds an affirmative, "That's right. It's good to see you again."
"Uhm, I hope you don't mind, but Roll and Rock are a bit out of it, so I'm delivering tonight."
"No, no problem at all. Thank you." She takes the computer, nearly dropping it from the weight, and grunts as she lifts it back into her arms.
"Oof."
"Do you want me to carry it in? I don't mind..."
"You're...oof...so helpful! Yeah...whoof...if you don't mind?"
He chuckles, carfully recieving the computer with his mechanical arms, "I actually needed to ask you something... So uhm, where do I put this?"
"Um...in here. Desk." She leads him inside - it's a messy room. "My roommate's a little out of it, I'm afraid - old friend, she just
got moved here - and we were having a bit of a party when, well...heh." She laughs, rubbing the back of her head. "You know how it can be."
"So what did you want to talk to me about?"
The computer settles onto the desk with a soft thud, "No problem at all. I had my share of messy roommates." He hid the fact that he wasn't too
sure she wasn't the one who did all this. "Oh, I was going to ask..."
The book is slid out of his coat and flipped to the appropriate page... Souji Seta, "I'm looking for an old student of yours. I think he might have
information regarding a case I'm investigating."
"Seta..." She makes a 'hrm' sound. "He moved away a really long time ago."
"I got a christmas card from him...I think he's in Area Eleven these days."
"I see. Japan, huh? That's pretty far away..."
"Did it come with a return address? I might be able to find his phone number, or something."
"Sorry...I threw it out." She gestures at the apartment. "Not enough room to keep stuff like that."
"Wait till next Christmas maybe?" She offers, a grin on her face.
A sigh. That lead was dead, it seemed... "Heh, I might have to. Do you know if anyone he was close to might live nearby?"
"Mmmm...not really."
"I didn't actually teach them directly, I was...how do I put this...his class had me for composition, but I didn't have them for homeroom, so I
don't know who he was close to."
"Ah. Well..."
There were others they mentioned...
"Yukiko, Chie, Rise, Kanji, Naoto- how about them?"
"I'm sorry...I didn't teach any of them."
"I understand. Are any of the other faculty in the area?"
"Hoo...well, um..."
"...sort of."
"Um... Sort of?"
"My...roommate."
"Oh. Well. That could work."
She was probably a cougar.
Y'know- if Tom's luck was to be trusted.
If the beer cans all over the place are to be trusted, she's actually more of a lush.
"She just got back from New London, actually...military thing."
"Oh. Did she?"
"Heh, I didn't think people in the military drank this much."
"Misato's an exception," she agrees.
"So's her penguin."
"...Penguin?
"I... Uhm..."
"...She has a penguin?"
"Like, as a pet?"
"Yeah."
"It's complicated."
"I... see. Will she be home soon, or should I check back another time?"
Said Misato seems to be in her late 20s, half-naked (well, bra and short-shorts), and very, very hung-over. She enters the kitchen, slumps down at the table,
and immediately knocks back yet another beer as a hot-springs penguin waddles past.
"Make the lights go 'way," Misato mutters.
Miss Toriumi shakes her head and flips a switch.
Now that the lights have dimmed, Misato straightens, making the fact that the bra is not hers (probably stolen from Miss Toriumi) far more apparent.
That it's sizes too small is even more apparent.
Tom surmised that those hills were less mounds and more mountains. The everests of breasts. He hasn't, of course, met Kalen yet.
"Uh..." An almost-whisper, "That's her?"
...Awwwkward.
"That's her," Miss Toriumi whispers back.
"I'm getting the feeling she's the kind of person to force you into embarassing situations for shits and giggles."
Still a whisper.
...Things like Synchro-Dance.
"You have a good intuition."
"I'm a criminal psychologist."
She just sort of nods, not terribly surprised.
Tom clears his throat, slow and deliberate in his approach. Heavy thuds on the floor, though, "Uh, hello, Miss Misato?"
"Who...?"
"Misato... That's your name, right?" Oh boy. She was wasted.
"...I know who I am," she mutters, "Who are you?"
"Oh. Sorry. I'm Thomas Magnusson. Investigator."
"Would you mind if I asked you a few question regarding some old students of yours?"
"Goahead...just keep it down."
"Alright..."
He popped the book onto the desk. A page was open- with the members of SEES. Photos of them- most of them... "Do you know of anyone who might have a way
to contact Souji Seta?"
"Uh-uh."
"Perhaps one of these individuals?"
"Not at all?"
She leans over the page (and it looks like her boobs are about ready to blow that bra clean off as she does, too) and sleepily looks over the list.
"Mmm...oh! That Naoto kid...she's a detective now. Works in...the big city. Pendragon."
"Dunno about Kanji or Yuki...Chie...Chie..." She thinks long and hard, a frown on her face. "...OH!" She nearly shouts, immediately
regretting it if her wince is any indication. "Think she's working in a movie."
It's not a terrifically long walk from Akihiko's to the Bonnes' Machine Shop now that he's actually got directions, and the odds of Tom winding
up at a weird school in the dead-end of nowhere is pretty low, unless geography decides to play
ring around the rosey with him against all known laws of physics. Granted, in this town, that's not impossible, considering what he's seen...
Tom makes his way there quite easily - Akihiko's shortcut proves to be a nice timesaver.
The shop window has an 'open' sign turned towards it.
Considering everything that's happened to him so far, it's not too out of the question for a cyborg-swallowing sinkhole to suddenly conjure itself into
the world. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time common sense breaks for the sake of damning Tom. At least he made it there without being sidetracked too
much.
Roll looks up as he enters, a grin spreading over her face. "Hiya handsome," she chirps, wiping some of the engine grease off on a nearby cloth and
standing from the vacuum she was repairing. "What's up? I don't remember you having an appointment with us today..."
"Oh, hey Roll," Tom says as his legs carry him into the garage proper, "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call. I got a bit lost on the way back
from the Hospital." The telltale whirring of his mechanical parts halt as he grinds to a stop, "I'm just checking in- to see if you guys
discovered anything interesting about these things."
"Well..." Roll slides her hands behind her back. "Rock's kinda out of it at the moment, and Tron's been taking care of him the whole
day...so nothing's really been found yet."
She adds "sorry" as she wipes off the rest of the grease.
"Oh, well..." That was discouraging. Even after coming all this way... "Well, is there anything I can do around here? I really have nothing
planned until later on tonight."
"Well..." She thinks about it for a moment, tapping her chin. "One sec!"
She darts off into the back room, shouting 'Tron!' at the top of her voice.
A few minutes later, she runs out, passing Tom. She strings a piece of paper over the 'open' sign and grins, turning on her heel. "You can buy me
lunch. I haven't eaten yet."
"Been working on this computer for Miss Toriumi all morning."
'...Taking care of him the whole da- Toriumi?' Well well... "Sure! I've got enough time to spare. So, where do you want to go?" He
follows her exit, halting the door with a metal sole, "I'm pretty open when it comes to food."
"I like Chinese. There's a place down the street..." Hint hint.
"Chinese is fine with me. Northern or Southern?" Hint recieved!
"I'm pretty partial to dimsum and noodles myself, but I can go with the southern rice dishes, too."
"Southern."
Ten minutes later, at Ba Kensei's Excellent Cooking Palace...
"Mmmmm...the chef here cooks the best rice," Roll cheerily says as she swallows another mouthful. "The best in the city!'
"It's soooo good. Thanks for treating me!"
Ba Kensei... Why did that sound so familiar? Well, if it's southern, then he's probably having a seafood dish, "Huh. This recipe is... Fukien
Province, I think." He shovels a spoonful of rice into his mouth. Savory, served with seafood and sauce. Definitely from that province...
"You've travelled a lot, Tom?" She asks.
"Haha. If you call a love for global cuisine traveling."
"But yeah, I've done a bit of traveling in my time."
"I had no idea." She takes another bite of her rice.
"You don't seem like the kinda guy who knows that much about food. Or anything...but I guess you can't be fooled by a pretty face!"
He takes in another mouthful, chewing for a moment before swallowing, "Well, I'm certainly pretty... Wait, are you calling me dim?"
She laughs and finishes off her rice, moving to the next bowl (goodness, she can pack it away for such a small girl). "It's a real change from when
Rock, Tron, and I lived in Pendragon."
"Fish, chips and curry with chicken all day long was it?" He chuckles, sipping at the house's black tea. Oolong, good stuff, "I hear that.
No offense to my own people, but our cooking is pretty horrible."
"Well...Pendragon doesn't have many other places to eat, either," she agrees sadly. "So it wasn't till we moved here that I got a taste
of other cultures."
"Yeah, but that's what happens with imperialistic cultures. Everything is either localized or diluted. The chinese we have there is..." A visible
shudder. Seems that once you try the real deal, there's no turning back...
"One thing... Isn't Ba Kensei..."
"...Uhm... I've heard of him somewhere before."
"...Anyway, you said that Miss Toriumi has a vaccuum over at your place?"
"He was the winner of the Gundamfight about ten years back...he was the Chinese Federation Gundamfighter until Master Asia took over."
Roll swallows more of her rice. "You know, before we won and called it off for good."
"I need to visit her sometime, have a few questions... Oh! That's right!"
"I remember watching him fight..."
"Man, those days were pretty dangerous, with robots coming out of every other building, but I kind of miss it."
"He's still a really strong martial artist, he does demonstrations at the festival. Hey, speaking of the festival..."
"...you got a date yet?" She leans forward, resting her chin on her hands.
Ah crap... "Uhm... Well, Fuuka already asked me earlier today..."
"Oh. Well, that's cool. I'll find somebody." She makes a face. "I just hate being a third wheel to Tron and Rock."
Lord almighty, two in one day. Either men are few and far between in this city, or Tom is hot as all hell.
"Yeah, I know how you feel."
"Hey, what about boss?"
"...Or Junpei. I think he's out a date, too."
"...you're joking, right?" She makes a face. "Junpei's not my type."
"Who's 'boss'?"
He chuckles, ruffling his short blonde hair, "Yeah, I figured. Poor guy. Oh, my Boss."
"Um..." She thinks for a moment. "...who?"
"Boss, he's the guy I work for... Well, one of them. He doesn't get out much, but it's more than Headphones does," Tom pops a shrimp into
his mouth...
"Headphones I wouldn't wish on anyone. Not 'till Yuka wakes him up anyway. But Boss is a pretty alright guy- and I can see if I can't convince
him to 'investigate' the festival."
"Ah...hah..." She mutters. "If it's all the same to you, I think I can find my own date..."
"But hey, a girl like you? I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a date."
"You'd be surprised how few guys find it attractive to be covered in engine grease." She makes a face.
"Heh, you'd be surprised how many guys are more obsessed with cars than they are with finding a girl."
"We don't do cars," she says after a moment, looking down. "We're more specialized."
"Huh? Specialized?"
"I know you guys do cybernetics... If it's not cars then boats? Planes?"
"No, home machines."
"Vacuums, computers, that kind of thing."
"Ah! Okay then!"
"Hmm..."
"There's actually a lot of demand for it here."
"...Is there? You guys don't have much competition?"
"Nope!"
"And VitaTech gives us a lot of contracts, so that helps."
"Small business being supported by big business isn't something you see in Britannia too often."
"VitaTech does? Interesting, I've been looking into them for a while. Got any juicy stories?"
"Not really," she laments. "They just bring us computers a lot."
"Computers......Mind if I take a look later?"
"We don't have anything in-shop right now. They've been pretty quiet lately with the tech support."
Miiiight have been his fault... "Well, there goes that lead... Hey, if you've finished that vaccuum, I could go deliver it for you. I needed to talk
to Ms. Toriumi anyway."
She finishes off her rice and holds up her finger. "Can I get some more, please?!" She asks as the waiter passes. She turns her attention back to
Tom. "Sure."
Hole in pocket. Burning. Tom twitches juuuust a bit. On the inside. Where she can't see, "Awesome. There's a student I need to ask her
about."
The rest of lunch continues rather uneventfully; the price is rather fair for such good food, and the way back to the shop is mostly okay...
...well, at least, until Shinji falls out of an alley, rubbing his jaw. "Bastard," he hisses, pulling himself to his feet. He looks rather bruised
and bloody.
Tom stops in his tracks. Well, he wasn't expecting that... Priorities first, he'd hurry to close the distance, "Shinji, what happened?"
Genuinely concerned, and probably significantly worried. Thugs? Or...
"Not your problem. You better leave..." He glances back at Roll, who makes a little 'oh' sound as he pulls a dagger out of his pocket.
"It's nothing to do with them."
He had better leave? Not with Shinji in bad shape he wouldn't... "Hey, I'm crazy enough to punch a chestburster, so don't worry about
me,"
Tom threw a concerned glance at the young girl over his shoulder, turning back toward Shinji after a quick moment, "Anyway, if I'm leaving, you're
coming with. I doubt Akihiko would let me drink at his place again if he knew I left you here."
Roll's hand goes into her purse, no doubt to fetch some form of pepper spray or another; Shinji frowns. "Look, this has nothing to do with you."
He hisses.
From the alley, someone laughs.
A man, or at least, someone over sixteen; a half-mask, white and featureless, hide the left half of his face, but the manic grin, black hair, and bright blue
eye are still visible. "Friends of yours, Shinji?" He practically purrs.
Of note is the cleaver in his hand. A large butcher knife, and it's got blood on it. Probably Shinji's. "I didn't know you had any...this
makes it a whole new sort of fun!"
Tom swivels himself about to face the man with the butcher. That could hurt a bit- actually, more like a lot. Let's hope it couldn't cut metal as well
as it could cut flesh, "I'm sorry, and you are?"
The man with the butcher knife's grin widens, and he licks his lips in an altogether creepy way - the way that screams 'Hi, I'm a serial
killer' to most sane people.
"You haven't heard about me? Shinji, I'm so depressed! I guess I'll just have to..."
And at the word 'to', his hand suddenly flicks to the side, and he hurls the meat cleaver at Roll. "Introduce myself!"
An attack on a lady? Not on his life. The cyborg's legs propel the rest of his body toward the apparantly defenseless young woman. Specifically: Between
her and the cleaver. Let's just hope it hits something not soft and vital.
The Cleaver fortunately slices him in the side - nothing vital, but not particularly soft, either.
The man laughs, a mad, high-pitched sound, and yanks his hand backwards. A string gleams on the cleaver, and it goes flying back to him, snagging in his hand.
His tongue falls out as he licks some of the blood off the blade. "Mmm...delicious. I approve."
He presses his finger against his mask, adopting an informal stance. "My name is Fenrir the Cutter...I'm the torture specialist for Endgame.
How-do-you-do?"
Blood pools against his shirt. He actually winced that time- the first time in a while. And just out of the hospital, too. "Fenrir? Fitting, only a dog
would attack a woman like that." Tom rights himself, assuming a more defensive stance, "Thomas Magnusson, Cyborg."
"A dog?" The man shouts, eye widening. "I'm a WOLF!" And with that, he charges, cleaver swinging upwards, ready to be brought down on
Tom like a sword of damocles.
The blade swings down, but it isn't Tom he hits - it's one of the metal arms. He snarls. "Die!"
Clink.
And this is why he wears jackets. People always seem to go for the arms when they miss the head- The cleaver slides cleanly off his shoulder, shearing the
sleeve of his coat, but otherwise not even scratching his chromed limbs.
His turn. It would be a swift jab to the face- faster than most people could blink, and probably with more force than the standard heavyweight.
Fenrir manages to tilt his head out of the way, keeping the mask intact, but the blow strikes him full in the head, sending him flying.
As he thumps against the ground once, twice, three times, Shinji moves behind Tom. "I'll keep her safe." He mutters. "You fucking
idiot...you didn't have to get involved."
Fenrir pulls himself to his feet, brushing his hand across his bloody forehead. He licks the blood from his fingers, a wicked laugh erupting from his mouth as
he stands, wobbles once, and drops the meat cleaver. It hangs there from its string like a bee's stinger as he laughs, his hand going for his pocket
"Yeah, probably not. But I'm the kind of idiot who doesn't let crap like this up and hurt a lady," He slides the rest of his arm out of his
sleeve, "Go, now! And... Thanks, Shinji."
to draw forth a handkerchief. Slowly, he mops the blood from his face, still grinning as he stows it away and draws his cleaver back into his hand.
He laughs again, charging as his cleaver spins on its string, a deadly, heavy helicopter blade ready to slice Tom into itty bitty pieces.
And by god, does it hurt - the cleaver falls, slicing deep into Tom's shoulder once, twice, three times, four, five, each time digging deeper and deeper
into the bone and metal. Ouch.
Roll and Shinji are on their way down the street already, though - so at least Tom doesn't have to worry about that.
It feels like his arm's being hacked off. Again. Not that it was ever hacked off before. Not with him concious, that is. Regardless, the fact that he was
about to use that arm probably meant that the attack he launched wouldn't quite hurt enough.
Not to do any real damage, though.
Indeed, Fenrir tilts backwards, laughing as the fist simply grazes his face. He's still laughing as the butcher's knife snaps into his hand, rises,
and...
Falls. The string snaps, the butcher's knife goes flying backwards, falling to the ground as he'd expected the string to still be there. His overuse
with the spinning seems to have snapped it; the annoyance on his face is plain.
It's the opening he needs. Even with that blood loss, and the fact that he was more than just a little bit dizzy, a real boxer always waits until just the
right moment...
To punch the other guy's living daylights in.
The momentum he launched into his straight carries over, allowing his hand to slip around 'Fenrir's' wrist. A shift in body weight hurls the other
fighter's body into the air, feet first...
And head facing the earth.
And, of course, an uppercut with an uninjured arm.
He lands with a sickening "crunch", falling to the ground and flying across the street over a car and into a crowd of onlookers (who quickly part to
allow the body to land).
Shinji and Roll return, Shinji's knife stowed back in his shirt. "...nice shot," he mutters, nursing his own (bleeding) arm.
Tom winces as he spins with his own attack, clutching at the gaping hole in his shoulder. Even through the pain, he looks relieved- and maybe just a bit
prideful, "I just hope nobody cares to ID the freight train he took to the face. You guys okay?"
"We're fine," Roll replies, "Besides, if he'd gotten near me, bam!" She mimes hitting someone in the face. "I'd've
kicked him in the balls and sprayed him in the face!"
"Hahahah..." Tom chuckles- weakly, maybe, but none-the-less, he laughs, "Yeah, I don't doubt it- not with legs like yours."
Flirting and bleeding- defeating the stereotype that guys can't multitask well. Intentional, or is it accidental?
"Yeah, tha-"
Splort.
It's a horrible sound, a bloodspray - it always means, invariably, that something was cut, deep, and near a piece of the body involving pumping blood. So
when Roll's eyes widen as her shoulder splits open, blood splattering on Tom and Shinji's faces, it's understandable that she takes a moment to go
"...ew..." before she faints.
Across the street, Fenrir the Cutter is standing - though how, after such a brutal assault, remains to be seen. His mask is shattered, blood is pouring down
his face...
...and the half his face revealed is pitch black, eyes of malevolent red. Like a Requiem.
"Hahahahahahahahahahha!" Fenrir shrieks as he charges, two fingers extended from both hands, "Endgaaaaame!" Another sweep of his hand, and
Shinji barely manages to dodge the unseen attack (through sheer luck) as it nicks across his sweater shoulder.
It takes a second for Tom to realize what just happened. His train of thought was 'What the fuck' followed by 'Shit, Roll,' and lastly,
'How the hell is he still alive?'
It's at that moment that a knee meets Fenrir's face out of nowhere - a man in a black cloak, a similar white half-mask over the right side of his face,
and a piercing bright blue eye staring out from the visible half. Fenrir makes a 'whoof' sound and falls into his arm.
The man turns to look at Tom. "You win this round," he says calmly, bowing his head as the pair vanishes.
Shinji stares at his torn sleeve, grimacing as more blood spills out of his arm. "Shit..." He mutters.
There's a sound of metal clattering. It only becomes obvious in a moment that it was Tom's arms that were shaking. He was stunned, tremoring not only
out of shock, but rage toward that Fenrir bastard, and fear for Roll- and Shinji's lives.
It's enough to get him to ignore the shards of agony embedded in his shoulder. There were more important things...
"We need to get to a hospital.
Speaking of Roll, she's currently bleeding on the street, a pool of blood forming from her very badly sliced-open shoulder. Fortunately, she's still
breathing, but it's ragged.
Tom immediately goes to her side, ripping his torn sleeve from his jacket.
Unfortunately, the cut is extremely deep - and there's no easy way to bind it with just a sleeve. She needs immediate medical attention.
He wraps it as best he can around the wound to at least try and staunch the bleeding. It likely won't do much, but it should buy time. Careful to keep her
shoulder as un-ruptured as possible, he lifts her up, strength of will allowing him to render the wound in his own arm silent, "Shinji, get on my
shoulders."
"I don't want to get lost."
Shinjiro, however, is doing the smart thing - calling someone on his StarkPhone.
Can't blame Tom. He's pretty shaken.
He slams the phone shut as ambulance sirens can be heard nearby. It's a good thing the hospital's at least somewhat close.
Well, alright. It's a good thing the city isn't too fucking enormous.
He glances around- ambulance? Good. That'll do, too.
It's no Metropolis, that's for sure.
...Well, Pendragon, in this case.
Shinjiro similarly starts making his way for the alley.
It would leave Tom there with Roll, keeping her body warm for the EMT. What else could he do? Too shaken to think rationally, too worried to put her down...
And his own blood loss would begin taking its toll as well.
It's as Tom's blacking out that the EMTs arrive. The sound of people, and the feel of himself being lifted into the air...
When he awakes, he's back in the hospital, the same group of people (sans Shinjiro) looking over him.
"Twice in one day, Magnusson," Mitsuru informs him idly.
"That must be a new record for stupid stunts."
"Nggh..." This time, he's actually in pain. Less pain than before, but still pain, "If saving people is a stupid stunt, call me
Neandrathal." He props himself up with his good arm, leaning somewhat against the limb, "Sorry about doing this so often, guys."
"I don't date neanderthals," Mitsuru idly notes. Fuuka looks down at that, and the group files out of the room as an orderly shoos them away,
informing them that 'visiting hours are over'.
Fortunately, the paperwork goes by faster this time.
He's directed to a room four halls down from his, and it's noted that that's where 'that girl who came in with you' is being kept.
Probably because he was a repeat customer. Records and such- liscences. But again, he wasn't much worried about that. He glances into the room's
window, knocking once and allowing a moment to pass before entering.
Roll is hooked up to some sort of IV, but she's awake.
However, that's not what he should be concerned about at the moment. What he should be concerned about is Tron, whose hands quickly close about his
throat.
"How could you let this happen!?" She practically shrieks.
The half of Rock in the chair (it's a rather disturbing sight, but he's a full conversion cyborg, so it's not like it's that disturbing) has a
similarly irritated look on its face.
Well, that's not a very good thing to have happen. Ever. Really. He chokes on his own words before they pass his throat. If she wants to scream at him, she
can probably do as much as she wants now.
It seems that's all she wants to do right now, as she's now devolved into incoherent shouts about how he let the girl who was practically her little
sister nearly get killed and how terrified she is that she won't make it and a whole host of other things that really don't make too much sense but are
quite plainly irritations nonetheless.
It takes a little while until he's able to speak- whether it's that he grew tired of her exclamations, or that her grip loosened, "I'm so...
sorry."
...Either way, he's able to speak- somewhat, "The bastard was something else. I don't even know what... I was sure I knocked him out. Hit him into
the sky, but..."
It's probably the second, as now she's breathing heavily, her hands lowering to her sidees.
"Just...tell me how it happened," Rock says slowly.
He rubs at his throat. That's going to leave a mark. A nod, he goes over just what happened at the encounter. Roll taking him to chinese, having the bill
forced on him. Shinji falling out of the alley, Fenrir...
They listen with a grim silence. Finally, Rock nods.
"...I'm sorry. I guess you did the best you could."
The cleaver hurled at Roll from the get-go, the details of the fight, and... "He disappeared with this weird guy. Kneed him right in the face, and said I
had 'won' this round. Funny, I don't think I 'won' much at all," he says with a sad tone, eyes drifting to Roll's ravaged
shoulder, "I'm the one who should apologize. I should have checked if he was really down before relaxing."
"...They mentioned something about Endgame. Is she going to be alright?"
"I don't know what that is," Rock admits honestly. "The doctors said she should be okay, but she's lucky to be alive. She might not be
able to use her arm again without cybernetics."
"If I thought she wasn't going to be alright," Tron mutters hoarsely, "I'd've put you back in that bed."
"It's not his fault."
"I know," she mutters bitterly, "But tell that to my angry side."
Tom scratches at his bandage, "I wouldn't actually blame you if you did. Hell, I'd be pissed too, if my little sister had her shoulder torn
apart."
"Trust me, if I see that asshole again, he's going to get more than a black eye."
She nods. "He'd better."
It dawns on him, then, that he wondered back there in that alley why the other guy wasn't -DEAD- yet. Dead? He wasn't normally someone to wish death on
anyone. Was the city starting to get to him too?
Rock, too. Being decapitated from the torso down is generally a bad thing, "...Uh. I'm guessing that's not just a flesh wound."
"I'm fine." He replies, "I'm a full conversion cyborg. The only reason I'm here like this is that we got the call while Tron and I
were fixing my legs."
"Oh. I see," that's a topic he figures he better not touch, "I was asking Roll if I could take that package to Miss Toriyumi's back when
she and I were eating. It's the least I could do for you guys now."
"H...hey..." Roll's eyes open. "Tom..."
She cracks a bit of a grin. "If...I'm out of here by next week...will you go to the...the festival with me?"
"Sorry..." Roll admonishes after a moment. "...that was mean of me. I know...you have a date already."
She calls, he answers, moving slowly toward her bedside. Ohhh boy. This'll be hard to do. "Tell you what. If you can get out here by then, I'd be
glad to. But I'll also need you to get me a way to explain it to Fuuka."
"It's okay," she murmurs, "I probably won't...be out of here by then, anyway. You don't...have to take me. I was just teasing."
"You know....lighten the mood."
"...Well, if you're not out of here by then..."
"I'm...going back to sleep now, okay? Night, hot stuff..." And with that, she drifts off.
Rock rubs the side of his head, looking annoyed. "We'll keep an eye on her," he promises.
"You don't have to deliver the package. We'll close down the shop for a few days."
"Thanks for protecting her."
"...Damn. Missed it. Mind telling her that I'll get her noodles as soon as she recovers?"
"Sure."
"Be careful, alright?"
He blinks, chuckling a bit. A hand is stuffed into his pocket- the one that's not torn up, "Don't worry about it. I'll be glad to deliver- I
need to make it up to you guys, and I'd be going over to Toriumi's anyway." 'Be careful?' It makes him feel better at least, "Yeah, I
will. Thanks."
"...the package is on the desk," Tron replies.
"Lock up behind you."
"I will," he replies, turning toward the portal, "You three take care of yourselves. If anything happens, call my cell. I'll leave the
number in the office."
"Uh-huh."
Click. He shuts the door after himself. This was really an interesting day...
And he still needed to apologize to Yukari.
Shinjiro is waiting a few blocks down. His arm is in a makeshift sling, but other than that, he seems okay.
"She alright?"
"Yeah, she's fine," he nods. Somber, still, from the sight of Roll and her injury, "How about you?"
"Aki bandaged it up."
"That's good. So I need to ask..."
"What the hell is Endgame?"
"A gang." He answers, one hand in his pocket.
"I had a contact in them...but when we met today, Fenrir tailed him."
"Found out about me and gutted the guy from head to toe with that fucking cleaver."
"I see," Tom humms, rolling his shoulder to pop the joint. It wouldn't- metal and all, "Yeah. It didn't look like he needed a cleaver
though. That bastard was weird."
"They work for VitaTech, at least informally," Shinjiro replies.
"I think the higher-ups let 'em fuck around with their bodies in exchange for power."
"VitaTech? That might explain why his eye looked so creepy."
"You think they're performing experiments with Requiems?
"Dunno."
"You think they were involved with that body you found?"
"Maybe."
"Guy might've known too much. Gotten himself in over his head, and Endgame took care of him." Shinjiro shrugs. "Just a theory."
"It makes sense. Guy was a guard, after all. And he was listed as a possible Requiem."
"...Interesting, that. If the Agency can extract Requiems and possibly put them who knows where, perhaps VitaTech simply killed two birds with one
stone."
"Mmm." Shinjiro shakes his head. "Dunno."
"Not a detective."
"I'll take it up with the boss later on. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. Be careful out there."
With that, Shinjiro departs, leaving Tom alone in front of the Twilight Detective Agency's familiar, and at least semi-inviting (kinda?) front.
"Are you Tom Magnusson?"
"I am."
It's a female voice from around the corner, and she rounds it a moment later - her face is obscured by a full white mask much like the one worn by Endgame,
and she's got...well, hell, she's got a Mitsuru-level body. Her hair is obscured by a hood and cloak, but...well, hell.
"I'd like to hire you."
"My name is Hel. I'm a member of Endgame."
"You people really like the Norse motif. What do you want?"
"It isn't just norse. It's monsters." She makes her way over, her hips swinging back and forth. "I'd like to hire you to handle
something for me."
"You've heard of the Full Moon Knight, yes?"
"I have."
"I'd like you to kill him."
"Or, at least, get him arrested."
"I don't care which. But he needs to pay."
"And why should I help a bunch of people who just sliced open a good friend of mine?"
She clenches her fist. "It isn't for Endgame."
"It's for my brother."
"And how can I be sure I trust you?"
"If you beat him," she says after a moment, adjusting her stance, "I'll tell you everything I know about Fenrir the Cutter...including where
he hangs out." Her hand traces across Tom's cheek. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind that trade."
"Considering what I heard from Roc about his little stunt with that poor girl..."
His arm trembles just slightly, "Now, that's the problem, you see."
"Besides. If you beat the Full Moon Knight, he grants you one wish, doesn't he?" Her hand returns to supporting her cleavage, a finger rising.
"You could wish her back to health."
"So what do you have to lose from helping me?"
"Dignity, self-respect? That guy, that Moon-Knight, what did he do to your brother anyway?"
"I just..." She looks away. "...he's in a coma right now. Room 406."
"The doctor said he wouldn't ever recover. His brain was damaged by the attack."
"The only reason he's still on life-support is that I wanted to use the wish to bring him back to life."
"But I can't beat him. It's all I could do to get away with my life intact."
"I'll look into it."
"That's all I ask."
"But I want to know something first."
"What is it?"
"What does Endgame have to do with the Requiems?"
"I..." She starts. "...I can't tell you."
"I'm sorry. If you beat the Full Moon Knight, maybe."
"That's fine. You've told me enough."
"...thank you." She moves, miming kissing him on the cheek, despite the full-face mask.
Tom sighs inwardly. He's too damned nice sometimes.
"I suppose I'll see you after the full moon."
"...thank you. Excuse me...I have to leave now."
"I have somewhere I have to be."
With that, she heads off, walking down the street - quite a change from the other guy's disappearance.
"I'd say be careful, but I doubt you'll need it," he murmurs, turning toward the path to the Bonne Garage. He's been down the road
before, so it shouldn't be TOO bad.
It's not. It's an easy find, the package is there...
And, hopefully, Miss Toriumi's address.
It's listed right atop the package.
At least something's going right tonight.
He hoists the package under his un-injured arm, and scribbles his phone number onto a scrap of paper.
He leaves it, quite unobtrusively in one of the desk drawers.
...And leaves. Time to talk to a teacher. He still has that book, right?
It's not long before he finds his way to her apartment - she's in a decent part of town, so that's, at least, a nice change of pace.
It was better than downtown- or the slums around the school, anyway.
He makes his way into the lobby. Elevators, elevators...
He probably needs to check with the clerk, too. If there's one there.
...Who isn't asleep.
She isn't. She helpfully informs Tom of the apartment number and calls ahead to note that there's a package and all that nice and proper stuff one
never expects a clerk to actually do competently.
That night, Beelzebub enjoyed a cold run across Cocytus. Tom proceeds to the apartment number he was given. Knock-knock...
"Hello?" Miss Toriumi opens the door, staring at him for a moment. "Oh, hi! Tom, right? We met at the outdoor market."
He nodds an affirmative, "That's right. It's good to see you again."
"Uhm, I hope you don't mind, but Roll and Rock are a bit out of it, so I'm delivering tonight."
"No, no problem at all. Thank you." She takes the computer, nearly dropping it from the weight, and grunts as she lifts it back into her arms.
"Oof."
"Do you want me to carry it in? I don't mind..."
"You're...oof...so helpful! Yeah...whoof...if you don't mind?"
He chuckles, carfully recieving the computer with his mechanical arms, "I actually needed to ask you something... So uhm, where do I put this?"
"Um...in here. Desk." She leads him inside - it's a messy room. "My roommate's a little out of it, I'm afraid - old friend, she just
got moved here - and we were having a bit of a party when, well...heh." She laughs, rubbing the back of her head. "You know how it can be."
"So what did you want to talk to me about?"
The computer settles onto the desk with a soft thud, "No problem at all. I had my share of messy roommates." He hid the fact that he wasn't too
sure she wasn't the one who did all this. "Oh, I was going to ask..."
The book is slid out of his coat and flipped to the appropriate page... Souji Seta, "I'm looking for an old student of yours. I think he might have
information regarding a case I'm investigating."
"Seta..." She makes a 'hrm' sound. "He moved away a really long time ago."
"I got a christmas card from him...I think he's in Area Eleven these days."
"I see. Japan, huh? That's pretty far away..."
"Did it come with a return address? I might be able to find his phone number, or something."
"Sorry...I threw it out." She gestures at the apartment. "Not enough room to keep stuff like that."
"Wait till next Christmas maybe?" She offers, a grin on her face.
A sigh. That lead was dead, it seemed... "Heh, I might have to. Do you know if anyone he was close to might live nearby?"
"Mmmm...not really."
"I didn't actually teach them directly, I was...how do I put this...his class had me for composition, but I didn't have them for homeroom, so I
don't know who he was close to."
"Ah. Well..."
There were others they mentioned...
"Yukiko, Chie, Rise, Kanji, Naoto- how about them?"
"I'm sorry...I didn't teach any of them."
"I understand. Are any of the other faculty in the area?"
"Hoo...well, um..."
"...sort of."
"Um... Sort of?"
"My...roommate."
"Oh. Well. That could work."
She was probably a cougar.
Y'know- if Tom's luck was to be trusted.
If the beer cans all over the place are to be trusted, she's actually more of a lush.
"She just got back from New London, actually...military thing."
"Oh. Did she?"
"Heh, I didn't think people in the military drank this much."
"Misato's an exception," she agrees.
"So's her penguin."
"...Penguin?
"I... Uhm..."
"...She has a penguin?"
"Like, as a pet?"
"Yeah."
"It's complicated."
"I... see. Will she be home soon, or should I check back another time?"
Said Misato seems to be in her late 20s, half-naked (well, bra and short-shorts), and very, very hung-over. She enters the kitchen, slumps down at the table,
and immediately knocks back yet another beer as a hot-springs penguin waddles past.
"Make the lights go 'way," Misato mutters.
Miss Toriumi shakes her head and flips a switch.
Now that the lights have dimmed, Misato straightens, making the fact that the bra is not hers (probably stolen from Miss Toriumi) far more apparent.
That it's sizes too small is even more apparent.
Tom surmised that those hills were less mounds and more mountains. The everests of breasts. He hasn't, of course, met Kalen yet.
"Uh..." An almost-whisper, "That's her?"
...Awwwkward.
"That's her," Miss Toriumi whispers back.
"I'm getting the feeling she's the kind of person to force you into embarassing situations for shits and giggles."
Still a whisper.
...Things like Synchro-Dance.
"You have a good intuition."
"I'm a criminal psychologist."
She just sort of nods, not terribly surprised.
Tom clears his throat, slow and deliberate in his approach. Heavy thuds on the floor, though, "Uh, hello, Miss Misato?"
"Who...?"
"Misato... That's your name, right?" Oh boy. She was wasted.
"...I know who I am," she mutters, "Who are you?"
"Oh. Sorry. I'm Thomas Magnusson. Investigator."
"Would you mind if I asked you a few question regarding some old students of yours?"
"Goahead...just keep it down."
"Alright..."
He popped the book onto the desk. A page was open- with the members of SEES. Photos of them- most of them... "Do you know of anyone who might have a way
to contact Souji Seta?"
"Uh-uh."
"Perhaps one of these individuals?"
"Not at all?"
She leans over the page (and it looks like her boobs are about ready to blow that bra clean off as she does, too) and sleepily looks over the list.
"Mmm...oh! That Naoto kid...she's a detective now. Works in...the big city. Pendragon."
"Dunno about Kanji or Yuki...Chie...Chie..." She thinks long and hard, a frown on her face. "...OH!" She nearly shouts, immediately
regretting it if her wince is any indication. "Think she's working in a movie."