The Docks: "What is it Good For?", Episode 2

[Draven Raedwolf]

Draven maintained his position at the counter and watched as Skunk’s back disappeared through the door. He was a bit disturbed by the fact that his conversation with the officer had gone quite well; better, even. But what disturbed him even more was that he had actually seen a figure from where Poe’s body had dropped at Moon’s. Things like that just didn’t happen normally, did they? Either way, Draven knew that there were only two things could come of that; first, more visits for answers by law enforcement would seek him out; or, second, there would be no more visits as he obviously didn’t have anything to do with the entire fiasco. He hoped for the latter of the two as he was not thrilled with the idea of more interruptions.

As he leaned his back against the counter, mulling over his own inner thoughts; Draven failed to initially notice the importance of Sal walking into the store. Draven half-listened to Sera’s conversation with the woman and noted the lack of trust her voice portrayed. He dropped all thoughts, deciding it was better to study them at a later time, and listened to the two closer when Doc’s name was thrown in. He wasn’t completely sure what the woman wanted to see Doc for, but, he thought, she would have realized (with as long as it had been since he disappeared) that there wasn’t anyone around who could tell her where he could be found. The rumors alone were enough to figure out that he most likely left the 66 all-together. At least, if you followed those that closely resembled each other.

“I mean, I can’t help you there, no more than Draven or Charise here did with Skunk. You mighta seen him leaving on your way in?”

At the mention of his name, Draven perked up. He gave the woman he’d heard Sera call Sal a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid she’s right, miss. No one’s heard a peep or whisper from him in quite a while now. Besides, I doubt you could call throwing his name around after an officer was in the vicinity a stroke of luck.” He gave the woman a light-hearted wink and shrug of his shoulders.

[Sal McKenna]

“Nobody's heard from Doc, what makes you think I have any idea where he is? I mean, I can't help you there, no more than Draven or Charise here did with Skunk. You mighta seen him leaving on your way in?"

Sera knew something. Sal could tell that just by looking at her and reading the little cues that appeared on her face and in her stance. The nervousness in the woman was almost palpable, so strong Sal could almost smell it in the air as Sera fed her another lie, ending with a reminder that Skunk had got here first and ruined everything. These people here had come to the exact same conclusion that she would have herself, if the roles were reversed. Gorram Skunk! And gorram herself. Should've come here first thing after she'd heard about Poe's death and Doc's disappearing act. Now... Now it was probably too late and there was probably nothing she could do to convince them otherwise.

“I’m afraid she’s right, miss. No one’s heard a peep or whisper from him in quite a while now. Besides, I doubt you could call throwing his name around after an officer was in the vicinity a stroke of luck.”

Sal McKenna, however, had never been know as a quitter. She looked from Sera to Draven and knew that the woman, at least, had some useful information. "Yeah... Unfortunate bit o' hesitation on my part," she said, raising a hand to scratch at the back of her head. Hesitation got you killed. Sal knew that better than anyone. And she'd rutted this one up royally, to the point where there didn't seem to be any way out. "'n I know wha' yer thinkin'. Ain't nothin' I can do t' prove ya wrong, but think on this..." She paused a moment, looked from one to the other with a hard expression, eyes narrowed just a bit as her gaze landed on Sera, holding steady there. "Wha' happens t' yer home down here if Doc decides not t' come back?" She left the question hanging in the air and waited for them to make up their minds, whether they were going to help or keep stonewalling.

[Sera]

It was a good question, she had to give her that. One that was being repeated more and more often as Doc's absence grew longer. Someone had to fill that gap, and there were many parties who would gladly fight for that power.

Moon, perhaps the most beloved and benelovent public figure in the slumdragon, was the first that came to mind, but Poe's body had dropped smack in the middle of his territory, and that could easily be used against him.

With the number one and number two men out of the picture, Doc's own security team had more than a few men, and at least one woman, looking to promote themselves. Though it was a force to be feared before this whole mess, and they seemed to still be following protocol, Sera knew the reserved ruthlessness could lose focus, and become indiscriminate.

That left Karla Tureaud. Once things turned sour, and the in-fighting began, she would swoop in and take control. From what Kosta had told her, Karla would dismantle everything she could. In her eyes, the community down here didn't need to exist, just the core group essential to running the basic functions of the Docks. What she didn't seem to realize was that was exactly how it started in the first place. A trafficking hub that attracted enough business to evolve into a self-sufficient community, and the people here were just as attached to it as any planetside citizen felt about their hometown.

In short, it would be war.

"We'll survive, we always do." The quality of that surviving might be called into question, though. People could say what they wanted about Doc, he at least kept the thugs in line. Maybe there was a way to bring him back.

"Say I did know something... what exactly would you do with it?" She would play it coyly. Coy was something she could do. Coy was something she was good at.

[Tara Blackthorne]

It had been an adequate trip to route 66. At least she’d managed to catch some shuteye, once again the former Browncoat had dreamed of the war, of blood and gore and friends dying before her eyes. Tara shook her head, it did not do well to dwell on the war, not that element of it anyway.

Tara paid her three credits to the pilot, deflected the questions about why she was headed for the space station and limped her way onto the docks. Wildback had come this way, she would find him, and get back what he took.

A low grunt of pain worked its way from her lips; the cool air of the station was playing hell with her busted ankle, making it stiffer and more sensitive than ever. Still the long black trench coat did a good job of disguising her injuries, nobody messed with her. Granted, it may have been the trio of knives and the sawed off shotgun that gave that impression.

“Security?” She called out; some sort of person should come at that. When they did she’d get her answers. She’d find what she sought. Any moment now. “Security!” She called again a bit louder, Tara Blackthorne didn’t like being kept waiting.

This post has been edited by Tara Blackthorne on Jul 28 2011, 02:50 PM

[Sal McKenna]

Miss Fit's

"We'll survive, we always do."

Sal waited. Sera might have tried to assert herself and give the impression that she and her community would make it just fine without Doc, that they would go on in some form or another, but Sal knew what happened to places like this when they lost their focal point. And as she watched the other woman, she could see that Sera quickly came to the same conclusion. The place would fall apart, the people would scatter and the community would be no more. When she saw Sera's face change, she held back a smile that threatened to break through. Sometimes, Sal had to remind herself that a few well-chosen words had as large an impact as the threat or use of violence.

"Say I did know something... what exactly would you do with it?"

Straightening a little, Sal looked from Sera to Draven to the woman apparently named Charise and back to Sera, giving a glance out the window as she did so. "All I want 's t' talk to him. There's..." She paused, hesitant about telling the truth, but knowing that doing so was probably the one thing that would get any kind of help from these people. "Look this's gonna sound silly. Sentimental even. But when I met 'im, Doc... When I met 'im, I felt a kinda connection wit' 'im. Sorta like I already knew 'im." A pained expression crossed her features, and she gave a shake of her head. She didn't believe in all that past-lives bullshit, but she really did feel drawn to Doc and she had no good explanation for it.

"Stupid, I know, but tha's the truth o' it," she said with a shrug and a half-smile, looking down at her fingers still splayed on the counter. She looked back up at Sera with the best pleading expression she could manage. "So if ya really do know somethin'... I'd be grateful if ya shared." She turned to Draven, locking her gaze on him for a long moment as if considering something. "Hell, I'll even bring yer buddy here if he wants ta come. Might even end up 'preciating his company, who knows? So wha' ya say? Care t' help me out?"

[Jo Torwyn]

When a weapons-heavy woman started calling for security, Jo was sure to scoot the other way. It wasn't a guilty conscience so much as a wary one. Supposedly her record, such as it was, had been cleared when she turned eighteen. Was it any real wonder that Jo found herself doubting that?

It didn't help that the girl was carrying some tech merchandise in her denim messenger bag. Legit, sure, but would security stop to check or just lock her up and forget about the facts along the way? Jo's hands tightened on the strap of her bag. Paranoia was "normal", they said. It takes time to "reintegrate", they said. They said a lot of things. Jo wasn't taking any chances.

The day jobs weren't exactly high-paying. Enough to keep her fed, but not enough to get her anywhere beyond this gutter of the space station. In an effort to change that, Jo had taken to tinkering, starting with some small items from the salvage yard. It was amazing what people just threw away. Like this perfectly good CorPlayer. Sure, it was a couple models out of date, and sure, it was a bit grimy at first, but with a little elbow grease and polish, any tyke could be playing his favorite episodes of Super Space Rangers, and at a fraction of the price one of those new models cost.

With her refurbished merchandise in hand, Jo entered one of the places that had been pointed out to her a couple days ago. Miss Fit's seemed to be just what she was looking for, and in her enthusiasm, Jo started speaking before she had really taken stock of the situation.

"Would you be at all interested in... a..." Well, go se. Jo swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and gave Sal, Sera and Draven a lopsided smile. "Sorry, I'll just... wait." The girl retreated back toward the entrance, half an ear to the group with Sera, but with most of her attention on the spaceport. In case Skunk or his associates decided to drop in or something.

[Draven Raedwolf]

Draven listened as Sal talked. She had asked a very good question. What would the people of the docks do if Doc decided he wasn’t going to return to them? He was the only one who could keep everyone in their place, and the only one who could keep things running smoothly. If you knew the right people and the right places, the docks really weren’t that bad and it had all been thanks to him.

“We’ll survive, we always do.”

He nodded at Sera’s reply to the question. The woman had a point. One thing Draven had learned when he first came here was the people of the Docks were tough. It was a necessity that he quickly realized he had learn if he was to survive here. Ah, what would his parents think if they actually knew where he now called home and what he did for a living? His core world, proper parents would probably be disappointed in him and demand he return home at once. Or, at the very worst, disown him, though he doubted they really had the heart to do anything as rash as that. The thought alone was amusing and he smiled inwardly at it. They were good people, really, but they would never be able to stomach something like this place.

Sera’s question to Sal took him by surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that out of her. But then, Sera was like that sometimes. Draven continued to lean against the counter as he listened attentively for Sal’s reply. He was just as interested in what answer she would give even if he didn’t know where the man was. But if he was surprised by Sera’s question, he was even more so by the answer by the tough looking woman when it finally arrived. By Sal’s expression, she was telling the truth, even if she was uncomfortable with letting it out. Draven found himself feeling sympathetic towards the girl.

“Stupid, I know, but tha’s the truth o’ it,” “So if ya really do know somethin’… I’d be grateful if ya shared.” “Hell, I’ll even bring yer buddy here if he wants ta come. Might even end up ‘precating his company, who knows? So wha’ ya say? Care t’ help me out?”

“Now, now. Don’t go thinking such feelings are stupid. Some people just have natural connections like that.” He offered her a smile, hoping that it might help her feel just a little better with sharing something she most likely would never have in any other situation. He would have repeated that he had no idea where Doc was, and that he would be glad to help her if he did; but as his mouth opened to utter the words, he realized that one: there was no need for a repeat on the obvious; and two: those words were really meant for Sera. “Course, I’d be happy to go with you where ever you like.” He finished instead so that the opening of his mouth wouldn’t appear to be for nothing.

“Would you be at all interested in… a…” “Sorry, I’ll just… wait.”

He had been about to add a flirty grin and maybe a gesture of some kind towards Sal when a new voice reached his ears. He looked this new woman over and took quick stock of her. She didn’t seem to want to cause any trouble, which was clear by the way she backed off when she noticed the three of them were in the midst of a conversation. So, to ease her mind he offered the woman a warm smile of welcome.

“No need to be sorry. We’re just about done, I think. My name’s Draven. How about we come over here and you can tell me what you came here for.” He gestured off to the side a little ways from the counter. Draven then turned to Sal, “If you still want my company later, I’m not hard to find.” He wasn’t about to give any hint what he was talking about, but he counted on Sal to know what he meant.

[Jo Torwyn]

Miss Fit's

"How about we come over here and you can tell me what you came here for."

Jo did a little stock taking of her own as she studied the man who spoke to her, hazel eyes wide, small hands clutching the CorPlayer protectively against her stomach. Deer in the headlights. Her attention skittered from Draven to Sera, then back again. Creepy old man, she decided to herself in sour tones as her fingertips pressed harder against the molded plastic. Her assessment was made all the stronger when the blonde turned to Sal.

"If you still want my company later, I’m not hard to find."

She managed to keep the sketched out look off her face, but the effort just made her look a little more lost and pathetic, and she gorram well knew it. She also knew she was being stupid. She took a quick, bracing breath and pasted a smile on her face before gesturing with the device. "I'll come back later, mister, but thanks."

Her voice wavered a little too much to sound tough, but just then, she didn't care. An onset of claustrophobia was starting to make her skin feel tight, her blood thin, her head hot, and her hands clammy. Jo opened her mouth to say something more, but it caught in her throat as she eyed the three adults. Instead, she tried on another smile, waved with the CorPlayer, and turned to move her skinny pigu right out of there.

[Sera]

"No! Stay." Sera didn't wanted to scare off a real customer, Melantha was always going on about how the legitimate business helped cover up the shady side of Miss Fit's. “Is that a CorPlayer? If it works we'll take it for straight cash. But we also do repairs too if it's busted. Draven seems to have a bit of a knack with those kind of things.” Well, weapons were really his specialty, but surely a dated CorPlayer wouldn't be a challenge for him.

As for Sal... her pitch hit sort of a soft spot. There were many who would laugh at the fighter saying she had a 'connection' with a known killer. The way the story went around the slumdragon, Doc was ready to turn on her just as fast as he did on the Fed... but Sera didn't believe this was the case. Sal had stood with him, and seemed genuine enough. She was new, which made her a tad suspicious in this whole murder thing, and if she were somehow connected to Poe's death, it made sense to agree having Draven along – that was a good chunk of the Dock's business model together in one place. Sera didn't buy that, however; Poe was the fastest draw anyone had ever seen, and this girl only seemed to rely on her body as a weapon.

“Tell you what,” she said, turning back to Sal, “if you come back in-”

“MENSLO IS FIGHTING DIO!”

The shout came from outside, in the bazaar known as The Spot. Sera gave Sal a look – as a pro fighter she undoubtedly knew the name Dio. She quickly rushed out from behind the counter and into slumdragon.

[Larry Twig]

Oy, the Docks were a mess. After that highly publicized fight in front of the main lifts two weeks ago, followed by Poe's murder... it left very little time for slacking. Weapons checks were strictly enforced, scanners were going off left and right where people accustomed to slipping by unnoticed were getting flagged, and even Karla herself made regular rounds of the perimeter to the slums. For the past week, Larry felt like he actually had a job to do.

Currently, he was on patrol duty. Normally, that meant drinking beer somewhere in the Originale and making frequent, albeit unsuccessful, passes at the waitresses. Nowadays, he could barely clear the Docks without being swarmed with questions. Somehow the trouble the station had been experiencing increased attendance, as if they hoped to actually view a couple of gunslingers in a stand-off.

“Security? Security!” Oy. Larry zig-zagged lazily in his approach, noting the weapon.

“Oy, Miss. You're gonna have to check that weapon at the terminal over there... or if you're going that way,” he pointed his nightstick in the direction of the slums, “you might not get in at -.”

"MENSLO IS FIGHTING DIO!"

Larry didn't know who Menslo was, but he sure as rut knew who Dio was. Ignoring the woman, he pushed past her towards the shout. He was not stopped by the border guards, as they too cast their gaze in the direction that Larry began elbowing his way towards...

[Tara Blackthorne]

Why the bloody hell was it taking so long for some gorram security to arrive? Here she was, armed, shouting, her coat causing no doubt to her political allegiance, trouble waiting to happen. And yet nothing had happened. Tapping the handle of her double-barrel sawed off in annoyance, Tara was just about to shout again when security finally arrived. After getting a good look at what security consisted of, Tara wasn’t surprised by its tardiness.

Huffing and puffing like a beached whale, a short, fat man in a uniform arrived, trying to look important but failing miserably. Leaning back on her feet, despite the pain in her ankle, the woman cracked her neck. Any real fighter would have noticed her drop into combat stance, but this fellow hardly seemed to qualify. Some might call her paranoid, but you don’t survive this long in the ‘Verse without being prepared.

“Oy, Miss. You're gonna have to check that weapon at the terminal over there...”

What? These toys? Really?

“Or if you're going that way,” he jabbed the nightstick he held in the direction of the slums, “you might not get in at -.”

Clearly this fellow had more to say, unfortunately for him, someone else cut him off with a shout of, "MENSLO IS FIGHTING DIO!"

Tara didn’t have a clue who either of those people were, but this pudgy guard clearly did. In his hast to get to the scene of the action, this fellow shoved past her, forcing her back on her bad ankle. Needless to say, her ankle didn't like that overly much. Sharp pain stabbed up her leg as most of her weight was forced on the injured limb.

OW! Gorram rutting careless bastard!

Snarling through the pain of the old ankle injury with as much stoicism as she could muster a though came to Tara. He hasn’t checked my weapons yet. I could just slip them in. Buttoning her coat to hide the knives, and draping it in such a way to cover the sawed-off, Tara hobbled after the guard, curious to see what this fight was about. Wilds could wait.

(OOC: Jeth, let me know if the scanners pick her guns up)

[Sal McKenna]

Miss Fit's

"Would you be at all interested in... a... Sorry, I'll just... wait."

Turning her attention to the girl at the door for a moment, Sal couldn't help crack a slight smile. Something about the kid reminded her of herself at that age, 'cept she'd never been that polite. No... That wasn't politeness, it was wariness, Sal decided, giving the girl a more thorough inspection. A kind of wariness you only saw in streetkids, who were always on the lookout for trouble and the law. When the girl retreated toward the door, Sal had her suspicions confirmed and she gave her a kind of reverse nod in order to tell her that this place was safe for now.

“Now, now. Don’t go thinking such feelings are stupid. Some people just have natural connections like that. Course, I’d be happy to go with you where ever you like.”

Leaning back on the counter, Sal placed herself in a manner that she could see everyone in the store with just a tiny adjustment of her head. But it was Draven she focused on as he spoke, trying to act as the understanding kind of man who knew how to listen. If the tension of the whole situation wasn't as palpable as it was, she would have laughed him in the face, maybe even added a knee to the groin for good measure. As it were, she contained herself and turned back to Sera when Draven's attention, giving an almost absent-minded nod in return to his comment about being hard to find.

"I'll come back later, mister, but thanks."

"No! Stay. Is that a CorPlayer? If it works we'll take it for straight cash. But we also do repairs too if it's busted. Draven seems to have a bit of a knack with those kind of things.”

Although Sera had suddenly changed focus to the girl with the CorPlayer, Sal knew that she'd managed to say the right thing. That she'd convinced Sera that she wasn't a snitch for Skunk or out to track Doc down to kill him. Just a matter of time now and though Sal wasn't the most patient of souls, she could certainly wait for the kid to get some coin for her CorPlayer. "G'on," she told the girl, tilting her head at her with a grin. "Ain't no one here gonna bite yer head off, kid." She glanced at Draven and Sera as if seeking confirmation of the fact, still grinning. "See? Harmless, these two."

“MENSLO IS FIGHTING DIO!”

Sera had been about to offer a compromise when the shout came and she met the woman's glance with a look of surprise, one eyebrow raised by a fraction. That Dio would be fighting anybody outside the ring was... Frankly, it was unthinkable. Had to be another Dio. Not a terribly uncommon name, was it? Because, the Dio Sal knew, from his reputation and the meeting she'd had with him upstairs sure as hell wouldn't get into a street fight. Still, when Sera rushed out of the store, Sal pushed off the counter and made to follow, shrugging an apology to the girl who was looking to make a sale. "Guess th' both o' us'll have t' come back 'nother time, kid," she said as she headed out the door to walk in the direction of the crowd's yelling.

[Jo Torwyn]

Miss Fit's

"No! Stay."

Jo's steps halted without a thought. Stuck in the rut and habits of her previous existence, the girl cursed herself for acting like a trained monkey, but she still turned to regard Sera, her fingertips white against the CorPlayer's cover. Should she hope? Was she being delayed? Someone outside had already called for security while Jo had stepped into Miss Fit's. Gorram this fear. Gorram this station. Gorra...

"Is that a CorPlayer? If it works we'll take it for straight cash. But we also do repairs too if it's busted. Draven seems to have a bit of a knack with those kind of things."

"G'on. Ain't no one here gonna bite yer head off, kid." Sal glanced at Draven and Sera as if seeking confirmation of the fact, still grinning. "See? Harmless, these two."

"No, it..." Jo had to stop to clear her throat, swallowing against the lump that just would not loosen. Gorram frightened rabbit, stop cringing! The flutter of a smile appeared. "I was able to to fix it. Works fine, but I don't need it..." But the woman was talking to the fighter again, until that, too, was interrupted by the shout from outside.

"MENSLO IS FIGHTING DIO!"

Jo, so far removed from the rest of the world for so long, was entirely clueless. It must have meant something, though, because the shop keeper soon rushed past her through the doors. The girl pressed a fist against that empty hole that was her stomach, shoulders slumping slightly. Cash had sounded so nice, but she slipped the CorPlayer back into her denim bag. There had to be another shop like this around here, right?

The girl took a moment to glance at Draven and Sal again. The first still sketched her out, but the dark-haired woman was different. Jo had seen the little nod from her earlier, before Jo's fight or flight mechanisms had started ticking away. As Sal approached, Jo straightened slightly, wary but waiting.

"Guess th' both o' us'll have t' come back 'nother time, kid."

Jo nodded to the woman as Sal walked through the door. She gave a last look back toward Draven, but it was brief. She didn't know these people, plain and simple, and it was Sera who had mentioned cash, not this blonde guy. She gave the man a much quicker nod, then also slipped out, following Sal. And if she stuck a little close to the other woman, well... gotta choose your allies, just like your battles. Especially when it sounded like someone else had already done the latter.

[Route 66]

The Spot, home to Miss Fit’s, was named as such because of its proximity to the Docks. To reach it, one simply got off the main lift and aimed for the widest opening that did not lead to the docking lanes. The mouth of the slumdragon was inconspicuous before the checkpoints flooded its jaws, but passing through it was similar to entering another world.

The pristine walls and high-tech appeal of the Route 66 Docks gave way to the practicality and dullness one would expect from a border world port. The information booths became noodle stands, the businessmen exchanged suits for hoods and tabards, and guards went from clean and uniformed, to armoured and tattooed. Just beyond this barrier separating the slums from the rest of the ‘verse, a crowd had formed.

On the Route 66 side of the Docks, Karla’s men were stationed and tried to maintain a professional air, yet on this side were Doc’s own men performing far more discriminatory searches. Those who refused were turned away, but at least one guest decided they needed no such hassle…

“Think you can just stroll in here and take over, do you?” Menslo spat. Now part of Doc’s security team, he was a former pirate known for once being part of a crew oft mistaken for reavers in their prime. Rather than tattoos, he bore a myriad of scars forming intricate patterns all across his face and bare arms. Thick sideburns were tinged crimson red and his eyes flashed with a cunning ferocity. On his right hip sat a revolver of ludicrous proportions, and a long blade ran the length of his left thigh. Unlike most men who drunkenly challenged professional fighters in a grossly mistaken attempt to prove themselves, Menslo was no joke.

Dio, the target of this man’s venom, did not look to be his equal. Simple clothes, no tattoos, and an overall easy demeanour; he was perfectly average to the casual observer. He offered a friendly smile, and there was no sign of the violence lurking within – surely it could not have been the same man who put the famous War Machine in the hospital?

“I saw you meeting with Doc not long before he ditched.” Menslo’s voice was as crooked and jagged as the scars on his face.

“Did you?” There was something unnerving in the tone of friendliness that even Menslo picked up on.

“Well…” He looked uncertain now. “Maybe you didn’t have anything to do with him being gone, but you’ve been waiting for a chance to take over the pit fights ever since I –“

“Let’s not talk about that.” Dio said as he took a step forward, and Menslo reacted with a hand on the butt of his gun. Dio stopped.

Realizing the fear present in the action, Menslo made a face. “I don’t need this to fight you.”

“You don’t need to fight me at all.”

But the call had already gone out. The people gathered had come to see a fight, and though Dio felt no obligation to deliver, Menslo could not be seen backing down if he wanted to further his plans in replacing Doc.

Brandishing scarred fists instead of his gun or blade, the former pirate made the first move…

…and connected with a clean right hook, straight to Dio’s jaw. There was an audible gasp from the onlookers as Dio’s upper body twisted to one side with the force of the blow. Even Menslo himself seemed shocked at his success. This was supposed to be the best fighter in the universe – unbeaten in over thirty official fights, and plenty more unofficial ones.

Rather than muse on whether it be luck or an overestimation of his opponent, Menslo moved forward and swung from the other direction this time, a left haymaker that rocketed straight for his opponent’s jaw once again. Dio barely had time to straighten himself from the previous blow when the second one landed dead-on, rocking him as he both twisted to one side and staggered one step backwards. Having apparently struck gold twice, Menslo finally stopped to gloat.

“So it’s true, then? Rumour going around said you were sporting a black eye two weeks back, that you lost a step and some sap knocked you out cold in some bar brawl.” He grinned, revealing a surprisingly well maintained row of teeth. “Maybe they should let me take your place in the tournament.”

The attack continued, and the pirate Menslo landed several more shots as the crowd watched, flabbergasted, as the ‘verse’s most dangerous man reeled and stumbled.

[Dio]

What a fool.

The thug that sought Doc’s crown, dangerous as he was, could not see that he had lost the fight the moment he stepped into range for his first punch. Though Dio appeared to be hurt and swaying with each successful hit, the punches were only landing at a quarter of their potential power.

With a tucked chin, Dio turned with each strike, allowing it to land squarely, but moved fast enough so that it lessened the blow considerably, while also providing the illusion of being hurt.

It was his preference to duck and dodge without being struck at all, but it had been necessary to let Menslo forget about the two very lethal weapons strapped to his body, neither of which were his fists.

It was a technique he adopted for street fights such as this after witnessing a bar brawl where the infamous Nait Moore, Dio’s rival in the eyes of the media, allowed himself to be hit repeatedly before unleashing his own strike. Though this was probably more due to drunkenness than any sort of technical strategy, by letting his opponent land, they gained the confidence to continue using their fists, rather than, say, a revolver or a twelve inch blade.

After the sixth strike, Dio leaned back further than Menslo had been getting accustomed to. His right hand struck air, but before he could process this information, Dio planted his feet and fired off a punch that moved so fast that those watching began murmuring in confusion. One moment Menslo was throwing a punch, and the next he was bent over, red-faced and clutching his stomach. He mouthed a scream but there was no air left in his body to produce the sound.

Dio stepped forward and slid Menslo’s gun from its holster.

“That punch landed directly to your liver, between the ninth and tenth ribs,” he said, leaning in close. ”You see, the liver is a very important organ, particularly in detoxification. The reason you’re finding it so hard to recover, aside from the pain of having a major organ smashed in, is that the trauma caused it to release a cocktail of toxins into your body. It won’t kill you, of course, but it will take a while for them to be reabsorbed. Until then, while I have your attention, you will answer me one question: do you know where Doc is?”

The whisper was barely audible. “N-no. Nobody does.”Dio stood up and scanned the crowd, who began to disperse as his gaze fell across them. Spotting a familiar face, his eyes narrowed.

“She does.”