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| Vengeful Youth; tag; erg | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 14 2017, 05:36 PM (165 Views) | |
| Thebe Okonma | Apr 14 2017, 05:36 PM Post #1 |
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10-11-11 Mutant Town _______________________ “Come on, stop being a god damn ball hog, and pass! PASS!” Thebe shouted at the TV, as a basketball game played. Had he not wagered a sizeable amount of money on his team winning, he probably wouldn’t have even bothered to watch the game. But lately, he had been trying to cut down on his burglary activities via gambling. X-Factor’s increased activity was making it harder for him to sustain himself and Mary with thievery alone. So, he had focused more on subtle ways to supplement his income mainly through confidence tricks, and gambling. He had been teaching Mary how to play poker, in hopes that he could use her to give him the edge in one of the many underground poker games New York had. On the occasions that he did steal he made sure or at least tried to make sure to go about it more discreetly than he did previously. X-Factor was forcing him to change his game up. The basketball game went to commercial, and Thebe noticed that Mary still hadn’t returned from the store. She had gone to get snacks, but still hadn’t returned it was strange, but Thebe wasn’t particularly worried about her. He knew she could take care of herself, plus he couldn’t imagine how she could get herself into any trouble considering that well, she was completely imperceivable to 99.9% of the world’s population. He was just about to check, and see what was taking her so long when Mary ran through the door short of breath. “Thebe…..they...there's.” Mary struggled to get her words out as she had run all the way home. "What? You alright? Somebody, do something to you?" Thebe asked stretching the top half of his body over to Mary and starting to inspect Mary for injuries without even waiting for her answer. Thebe would never tell Mary that he cared about her, he wasn't good at expressing himself like that. He was a doer, not a talker. "No, no I'm fine." She replied as she opened a Snickers bar. "But...they somebody busted Ms. Peep's shop real, real bad." "What? Who's they?" Thebe asked his eyes furrowed. He knew Ms. Peep she owned a flower shop across the street from the corner store that Mary had gone to get snacks from. She was a sweet older lady, that never bothered anyone, and helped people out whenever it was in her power to do so. The very thought that someone had done anything to her or her store infuriated him. "I don't know...it's pretty bad, though," Mary replied casually before biting her snickers bar. "Aw, fuck. That's some bullshit. She'll be alright, though. I mean she's got insurance, and shit they'll take care of it." Thebe said. "They roughed her up pretty good too," Mary added almost as an afterthought. "Wait...what?" Thebe asked stopping in his tracks, his entire body language changing. So, They hit her too? That changed everything. "Yeah, her cheek was puffy, and hey eye was swollen. She didn't go to the hospital, though." Mary answered. Not having the slightest idea that the information she'd just passed over would effect Thebe as much as it did. " You're gonna be flying solo tonight, short-stack," Thebe asked his tone harsh, and a matter of fact. "What?" Mary asked noticing the change in Thebe, but not knowing the reason for it. "Just something I gotta do." "Need help?" "Nope, you're going to hang out here watch tv, and eat your snacks I'll be back tonight." "But...you sure you don't need m-" Thebe cut off Mary with a stern look, which illustrated perfectly that what he was saying wasn't up for negotiations. She knew Thebe well enough that whenever he started giving orders over requests, it was best not to argue. Thebe was the most laid back person she'd ever met, but she also knew that when he got serious...it could be frightening. "Okay..." Mary said her tone was growing soft as she became concerned. "But Thebe..." He turned to look back at her agitated, as he was expecting another argument. "Be careful." He didn't reply, he only smiled and winked before heading out the door. The basketball game, and the money he had riding on it all, but forgotten. A little while later Thebe was at Ms. Peep's flower shop, and the damage was stunning so much so that the elastic teenager stood in front of the store for a moment just staring at it, before going inside. “Yo, Peep!” Thebe called upon entering, once inside he found her in the back of the store sweeping up broken glass, and cleaning up as best she could despite her injuries. Her face was swollen, and her body was covered with scrapes and bruises. Thebe frowned at the sight but didn’t let it show for too long. “Oh, hi Thebe!” Peep said upon seeing him, giving him a warm smile despite what had happened to her. “What are you doing here?” She asked, while still sweeping. “Oh, you know. Heard about what happened, figured I’d come check on you is all.” Thebe said taking the broom off her and continuing to sweep. He was doing his best to hide his anger and sound as casual as possible. "Oh, just some prostaks with nothing better to do than harass little old me." Peep replied taking a seat. She was tired and in pain. But Thebe knew she wasn't the type to complain about it. "Oh?" Thebe replied keeping his eyes on the broom and continuing to sweep. "You say anything to'em?" “A meesa mashee af deer.” She replied in Yiddish, Thebe chuckled he wasn't fluent in the language by any means, but he knew the insults well enough. Peep had wished them all a horrible death. "So...uh, did you get a good look at them or anything? Know what they look like?" Thebe inquired unable to hide the animosity in his voice. Peep had known him since he was thirteen, concealing things from here wasn't the easiest thing to do. "Leave it alone, Thebe." She chastised, reminding him of his mother when she did. "The police will handle it." Thebe scoffed at that. "I'm just asking questions! What I can't ask my friend a few questions, or what? I never said I was gonna do nothin'. Did I say I was gonna do anything? I'm just asking questions." Thebe replied defensively. "Don't you try to play me for a putz, young man. I know you. You and especially this neighborhood does not need any more trouble!" She scolded. Thebe turned quickly letting Peep, see the anger in his eyes. "They brought the trouble here! I'm just going to make sure they don't ever bring it back.” He shot right back, his expression angry, and defiant. Thebe was a young man with a lot of pent up anger. The majority of the time he hid it well, behind fake smiles, and sly smirks. His face softened before he spoke again, on an intellectual level he knew the old lady just didn’t want to see him get hurt, or have any more trouble come to Mutant Town. But Mutant Town was precious to the young man. So, special that he felt obligated to answer disrespect to his hometown in kind. Thebe sighed. “Look, like you said...you know me Peep. This is happening, you can help me. Or I’ll figure it out myself, though it’ll probably be messier if you don’t give me a hand here, I mean but that's on you. Me personally? I don't mind ripping through all five boroughs in this city until I find out what I want to know." He stated intensely. "They came into my...*ahem* our neighborhood...look, what did they look like? " Thebe asked again sharply his eyes furrowed as squeezed the broom. One look into Thebe's eyes told everything Peep needed to know, and with a sigh, she clued him in on everything she remembered about the guys who'd busted up her shop. Once he had the information he needed to hit the streets, to track the guys down, Thebe stayed a few more minutes to help Peep straighten up a bit more before making his way out. "Thebe!" Peep called behind him as he opened the door. Thebe turned, half expecting another reprimand, or scolding. Instead, she only told him. "Be careful." The warning was a sincere one. Peep had a big heart, and she didn't want anything bad to happen to Thebe, she could tell that underneath all of Thebe's posturing and braggadocios bravado that Thebe was a sweet kid. Even if he didn't know it himself, and even if he went out of his way to pretend that he wasn’t. Kindness like Peep’s was a rare thing. So, scarce in fact that any attack or actions that could compromise people like her’s generous, kind, and optimistic outlook on life Thebe took personally. As if what had happened to them, had happened to him as well. Thebe didn’t say anything, he only looked back and smirked before walking down the street. He was in the middle of planning how to get his hands on a vehicle when he noticed Emilio in an alleyway across the street. 'Yo!' he called to get the man's attention before jogging over to him. Emilio was always down for just about anything, and for what he had in mind, having backup seemed like a good idea. He didn't know what Emilio was doing, but he had a pretty good idea what he would be doing. |
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| Erg | Apr 21 2017, 12:23 AM Post #2 |
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Has a funny eye
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“Imma tell you this one. More. Time. I don’t want no schoolboy fuckin’ codeine or dime bag crap I could hit up a skater boi for!” Erg scowled, left eye glowing in the gloom of the alley. Larry tried to scowl back. It wasn’t quite as effective. The dealer’s lab-rat-red irises just made him look like he had a bad case of pink eye. “An’ I told you I got no Oxy. No Percs, Endos, Xanies, Pins and definitely no Suzie Q. Voice was supposed t’drop off last night but someone’s runnin’ interference. I dunno what t’tell you, we’re all stuck in the dark, scrapin’ the barrel here. You either gotta talk to Pharmacy or take what’s left.” “Fuckin’ Pharma!” Erg scoffed. The gecko-looking mutant in question, formerly known as Procter, was notorious around Hell’s Kitchen – pretty far down on X-Factor’s priorities but he stayed out of M-Town all the same. He sold his psychoactive bodily fluids to flatscans. “C’mon cabrón, I ain’t drinkin’ no bottled lizard sweat!” Erg’s head was already pounding and the muscles in his legs felt vaguely like they’d been clamped in a George Foreman grill; but he wasn’t that desperate. “Y’classic downers I don’t got, but hey. As a loyal and valued customer, I’ll cut you a bargain rate on some Thunderbolt.” Erg’s eyebrow twitched up, distorting the tattoo above it. Zootoxic Acid Psychogalvanide was nasty stuff. The new coke for yuppies and Maggia grunts sick of nose candy cut with dewormer. But still… “That’s like, made outta monkey brains or some shit, ain’t it?” “Madripoor’s finest.” Which wasn’t really an answer. Larry gave a hopeful grin. “Fuck it.” The two words that usually preceded any decision Erg came to. “How much?” “Okay, well, in the right circles this stuff goes for more, but show me a Benji an’ for you I’ll do five tabs.” “A fuckin’ hundred?” Erg gawped. “C’mon! Go three for fifty.” “Fifty-five.” Larry snapped back instantly. It made Erg regret not trying to go lower on the ‘five pack’ first. He sucked at haggling sometimes. “Fine, whatever.” Rat-faced crafty bastard… he grumbled internally before once again concluding Fuck it! He rummaged in his jacket pockets and pulled out the seventy he’d brought up from the tunnels with him. After smokes, booze and gas, it was everything he had left from yesterday’s hard graft for ill-gotten gains. “You go one atta time with these okay, kid? Repeat business works better when you’re not stuck in the ER. Or the morgue.” Beady red eyes watched Erg count out fifty, then rummage in his pockets once more for five in change. He went to hand over the cash then pulled it back at the last minute. “Ah-ah!” He held out his empty hand. Larry bent low for a pocket right on the bottom of his cargo pants. He pulled out an overused sandwich bag that had gone cloudy from the sheer amount of times it had been bent and shoved into various hiding places; used and reused, filled and refilled, taken on outings to see what he could push. Rodent claws plucked out three blotters stamped with a crude red lightning bolt, popping them into one of the tiny grip-seal baggies lurking in the package too. Exchange done, Larry scampered off in that funny rodent way of his, leaving Erg stood staring, somewhat unimpressed, at his purchase. “Yo!” he heard from down the street and looked up. A familiar figure was bounding towards him in a familiar loping gait. “Thebéy!” Baggie still in his hand, he freed up the first two fingers to give the stretchy little thief a salute. “What you doin’ out? Ain’t it past Mary’s bedtime?” He grinned. Erg had been convinced Thebe was schitzo and she was a figment of his imagination. Right up until that one time she kicked him in the goddamn shin. |
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| Thebe Okonma | May 2 2017, 10:58 PM Post #3 |
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As Thebe neared Emilio part of him couldn't help but guess at what the guy had been doing in the alley. Knowing him it could've almost anything, it wasn't until he spotted shady Larry 'stealthily' exit via another alley down the block if one could define stealthily as very clearly exiting an alleyway after doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. He couldn't help but shake his head at the guy's lack of low-key ability. When it came to drugs, Thebe's view was one of indifference he wasn't able to actually get high/stoned/wasted on any kind of drug he had ever encountered. Once while spending some time hiding out in the undercity with the Morlocks, a very faded Emilio decided to give Thebe's drug immunity a full on field test by literally convincing, or rather bribing him into running a proverbial drug gauntlet where he'd basically gotten Thebe to try just about every kind of drug there was. That little experiment pretty much solidified for Thebe that drugs for all intents and purposes didn't have any sort of effect on him. He had tried his hand at selling drugs a few times but quickly discovered that it was an occupation that he wasn't particularly fond of. Making a profit from someone else's misfortune was much easier when he didn't have to see it firsthand. Add in the fact that he was much more of a pushover than he would like to admit. Oftentimes he would front customers who were suffering the nasty side-effects of withdrawal, only to never actually get the money he was owed and by the time everything was said and done he had barely made a profit if he managed to make one at all. The final nail in the coffin was after he had met Mary, after getting to know the young girl and upon seeing the shitty excuse her drug addicted parents were was enough for the young elastic hustler to swear off drug dealing as a plausible source of income altogether. He reached Emilio he gave him the customary Brooklyn dap greeting. "Sup, E. The fuck you up to?" Thebe said clearly looking at the bag of drugs in his hand. "No good I see, but don't worry about it. It's all good. Tell dumb ass Larry he's ain't got inconspicuous bone in his body though." Thebe said looking past Emilio to Larry who was walking down the street still looking suspect as fuck, he shook his head disapprovingly before turning his attention back Emilio. “What you doin’ out? Ain’t it past Mary’s bedtime?” "Yeah, like I can actually get that munchkin, to do what I say. I'm lucky if I can get her to stay her ass in the house much less control when she goes to sleep." He repllied casually. "Check this out though. I'mma cut straight to the chase...I'm bout to break some shit, and hurt some people...you down or nah?" Thebe asked straight forward, not bothering to go into detail. Emilio wasn't really the type to need an excuse to cause a ruckus, and Thebe was pretty confident in the fact that Emilio was familiar enough with Thebe and how he did things that if he was breaking stuff, and hurting people he had a reason for it. |
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| Erg | May 7 2017, 12:34 AM Post #4 |
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Has a funny eye
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“Sup, E. The fuck you up to?” “Uh… the usual?” The ‘Thunderbolt’ got swiftly stashed in a jacket pocket where it could rattle around with a bunch of loose change, lock picks and lighters. Not quick enough to avoid Thebe seeing though. “Like, pretty much.” Erg added self-consciously. He scratched at the Santa Maria figure still clear under a fresh(ish) grade one on the back of his scalp. “No good I see, but don't worry about it. It's all good.” Erg grinned. The two boys had seen the same level of messed up stuff going down around New York over the years. Even during the Apocalypse – Erg had been left wandering alone through the real life zombie nightmare of Famine’s making but Thebe had gotten front row seats to War’s attack. The contraband Erg relied on these days wasn’t going to ruffle Thebe’s feathers. The stringy pickpocket tended not to judge and despite having folks like Sunder, Anansi, Cree and Manticore among their numbers, the only Morlock who seemed to scare Thebe was Callisto. He could understand that. Even though Erg thought she was kinda hot at the same time. He shuffled to dispel the restless energy in his limbs. When it built up in his legs, the burn damage still healing there could start up with an unpleasant tingling. Once that set in nothing helped except mosh pit pogo-ing, drinking to blackout or jumping into waist-high ice water. He was keen not to let it get to that stage any time soon. “Tell dumb ass Larry he's ain't got an inconspicuous bone in his body though.” He shook his head disapprovingly before turning his attention back Emilio. “Ah yeah, fuck it. Ain’t like Rat-Larry’s the, uh, the ‘subtlest’ of guys.” He laughed. “Least he ain’t livin’ down in the Alley, wearin’ some red bathrobe like Splinter.” Although all Erg had to do was put on a hockey mask and he’d easily pass for Casey Jones… That might make it kinda cool. “Check this out though. I'mma cut straight to the chase… I'm bout to break some shit, and hurt some people…” Erg’s head tilted back, looking back and down at his friend with just a hint of trepidation. “Kay…” Why was Thebe telling him ahead of time? If people were planning on crazy shit, Erg figured it was always better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Unless you were Sack or Marrow. Screw that ‘Gene Nation’ noise. “You down or nah?” Erg’s head dropped back down as he belatedly caught the gist. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He stared at Thebe for a beat longer, looking for anything that seemed like a bad omen. With only one ‘good’ eye, it wasn’t like he ever saw many ‘red flags’ though. Even his sex life would be non-existent if he didn’t have a spectacular knack for missing all the warning signs that told most people to back away slowly and stay away from the crazies. “…Whose wheels we takin’?” was his only initial concern. Thebe wasn’t some psycho Punisher wannabe. If he was out to crack heads, he likely had a good reason. And even if it wasn’t a ‘good’ reason, it was likely still going to be a reason Erg could get on board with. “I ain’t walkin’. You got a ride?” Even when he was inebriated, the damage the Purifiers had done to Erg’s feet still made stolen vehicles preferable to walking. Mackenzie was more the kind of topside dweller you could rely on for top-notch transport; but Thebe wasn’t exactly a stranger to grand theft auto either. “I’m on that heap f’now.” He pointed to the black and blue Honda CX500 parked further down the street. The leather seat was defaced by a pale gash in its side, there was a distinct dent in the gas tank and the handlebars looked… wonky. “Thing’s ten years older than me.” He shrugged, “But it starts okay.” He went through constant cycles of stealing bikes, running them into the ground then selling the carcasses onto Chop Shops for parts. Any longer than that, the theft reports left them too hot to drive. |
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| Thebe Okonma | May 23 2017, 01:47 AM Post #5 |
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Thebe smirked mischievously when the only concern Emilio had about Thebe's chaotic invitation was how they were going to get there. Thebe didn't even have a license much less a car. Him being behind the wheel of a vehicle meant that he had stolen it more often than not. “I ain’t walkin’. You got a ride?” "Ummm, I mean. Not at this very second, but you know that can be remedied quick-fast. You already know." Thebe replied simply, discussing his penchant for grand theft auto casually as if he was talking about sports, and not felonious criminal offense. Almost as soon as the statement left his lips he started looking around casing the general area for any car that could serve as their method of transportation for the evening. “I’m on that heap f’now.” Thebe frowned at the sight of Emilio's old beater, and he shook his head in disappointment when the guy admitted that the car was about ten years older than he was. "Yeah, I can't be seen riding around in that.. thing, I got a reputation to uphold, and shit," Thebe said looking at Emilio, before shaking his head again. "Don't even sweat it though, I got us," Thebe said with a smirk as a black SUV rolled past them being driven by a guy in a suit who Thebe recognized as a real estate agent who liked to come into the neighborhood to put up advertisements which offered cash for people's houses. The most recent attempt to gentrify the neighborhood. Thebe had made his dislike for the man known before, but he comments had evidently fallen on deaf ears. "Leave your bucket here, and meet around the corner in five minutes," Thebe told Emilio as he walked into the alleyway before quickly leaping onto the top of a building. Once he was up there he followed the SUV for a block, or so and waited for the man to get out to hang up a few of his fliers. The moment he got out the car Thebe jumped from the roof and hopped into the driver's seat. He casually ignored the man's protests before driving around the corner to meet Emilio. "Hey, look I got us a car," Thebe stated slyly as he pulled up next to E, and waited for him to get in. Dude's so eager to buy people's houses, he shouldn't mind hanging out here for awhile right?" He added with a grin as he unlocked the doors to allow Emilio to get in. |
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| Erg | May 25 2017, 01:34 AM Post #6 |
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Has a funny eye
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“Yeah, I can't be seen riding around in that… thing, I got a reputation to uphold, and shit,” Thebe said looking at Emilio, before shaking his head again. “Hey! I never said I was offerin’ ta let you ride bitch on it!” Erg laughed. God, just the image of Stretch Armstrong’s stringy ass perched on the back of his bike – probably at some awkward-ass angle, because Thebe would probably rather try clinging to the pillion grips than hold onto his waist like a girl the whole drive. Yeah, no. “But, so… What, then?” “Don't even sweat it though, I got us,” Thebe said with a smirk as a black SUV rolled past them. Erg followed his line of sight, looked from the car, to Thebe, to the car again as it rounded the corner and disappeared. “Really?” “Leave your bucket here, and meet around the corner in five minutes.” “Well shit. Okay, man.” Erg smiled and shook his head as the pickpocket jumped out of the alley. He made it look easy, like a giant flea springing up into the sky. The kid was probably going to even give Anansi a decent run for his money one day. He didn’t anticipate needing to be completely prompt. He loitered where he was a minute longer, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter while he still had the shelter of the alley in his favour. Once the smoke was lit and safely lodged in the corner of his mouth, Erg rummaged again for the Thunderbolt Larry had sold him. He rubbed the plastic packet between finger and thumb; the smooth plastic-on-plastic slide of front against back felt oddly satisfying. There wasn’t much else about it he could call satisfying though. The tabs didn’t look like much. They definitely didn’t look like fifty-five dollar’s worth. “God damn rat-bastard…” He grumbled quietly to himself. Fishing one out, he gave it a cursory sniff, then a lick. No drain cleaner chemical taste immediately stung his senses. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Wandering with a slight limp back to the Honda, he opened his mouth wide and pushed the little square of paper right onto the centre of his tongue. With each loping step, his expression crumpled a little. There was a bad taste alright, it just took a while to sneak up on you! “Augh! Gah! Me cago en Dios!” His mouth was pulled into a complete downturned bow by the time he was close enough to reach the bike’s saddlebags. He pulled out the six pack of beer he’d gotten from the gas station and couldn’t get the first can open fast enough. He chugged the whole thing down in one go before breaking away with another “Gah!” noise, needing to breathe again. A few more drags of smoke and his mouth just about felt normal again. He was still pulling a face though. Whatever the T-bolt was supposed to do, it didn’t feel anything like a sudden rush as the name implied. The only immediate effect was a slight tingle where the little paper tab had been sat on his tastebuds, and a slightly warmer feeling in his belly. If it turned out he’d been sold duds, he was going to put Rat Larry though a wall the next time he saw him. Erg let the remaining five cans dangle from his left hand, fingers clutching the one empty ring. With his right, he gave the Honda an affection pat. “Hope yo’ still here when I get back, girl.” He muttered into the dash, then headed out. Despite dawdling, he was on his second cigarette by the time Thebe swung past to pick him up. “Hey, look I got us a car.” “Yeah, no shit.” Erg grinned, folding himself into the passenger seat. He yanked another beer free and offered it to Thebe. “Dude's so eager to buy people's houses, he shouldn't mind hanging out here for awhile right?” “Yeah, he can check out all them sweet local amenities on Conover street,” Erg chuckled. “Like the one busted pay phone, the porn store with the sticky floor, Crazy Nora an’ her shoppin’ cart’ve rotten goodies… Fuck that realtor prick.” He fiddled to work the electric switch for the window on his side, eventually creating a gap at the top to draw out the smoke he was breathing. It took even more fidgeting for him to get the seat into a position that properly accommodated his long, gangling legs. Finally he sat back to enjoy what was left of the ride. “So who’s shit we tearin’ up? Just outta idle curiosity.” It would probably help to know, just in case Callisto ended up yelling at him about it later. |
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| Thebe Okonma | May 27 2017, 01:24 PM Post #7 |
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Thebe only smirked and shook his head after he pulled up on E, who's facial expression clearly conveyed to Thebe that he had indulged in whatever substance he had copped off of Rat-faced Larry. He wasn't one to judge, and was all but positive that he'd probably have a habit similar to Emilio's if his mutation allowed it. E's habit was entertaining, and didn't really seem to be anything for him to be concerned about. After all the guy seemed to have his habit under control, and the concept of a functional addict was still unknown to him. “Hope yo’ still here when I get back, girl.” "Man, shut yo high ass up!" Thebe teased. "Nobody's even gonna want to touch that piece of shit, much less try and boost it. Now, hurry up and get in, so we can get out. Dude, most definitely called the cops by now, and I ain't trying to be around when they, or worse god damn Alex and his team X-Factor Uncle Tom's show up." Thebe beckoned howling like a wild man before pulling off hastily once Emilio's stoned ass actually managed to get in the car. Thebe wasn't exactly known for having a lot of friends, his occupational choice of career criminal didn't really allow for many genuine friendships. Trusting people was more trouble than it was worth most of the time. Trusting and depending on people left one vulnerable to betrayal. It was an unfortunate factoid of the business that the elastic teen had learned about the hard way on more than one occasion. He didn't keep friends, he kept associates. People he knew, but tended to keep at arm's length for safety's sake. Like every rule though there were exceptions, and Emilio was one of them. Thebe had met the guy when while needing a place to hide out. He'd brokered a deal with Callisto, who had allowed him to hide out underground with her, and her Morlocks...for a substantial fee of course, and for whatever reason him and E just clicked. Thebe wasn't the type overtly express his feelings, but Emilio was one of the few people he associated with that he actually considered a friend as well as occasional partner in crime. He trusted him enough that he let him know about Mary's existence. It was a sensitive part of his life that he usually kept well under wraps. Thebe didn't even have a specific reason for trusting Emilio as much as he did. He just did from the moment they'd met the two misfits seemed to share an in-depth, yet unspoken understanding of each other. Whether it was their shared sense of humor, or penchant for getting into or causing chaos. They just seemed to be on the same wave length. It was relationship that Thebe appreciated, even if it was something he'd never actually admit out-loud. Thebe used his knowledge of Mutant Town's backstreets and alleyways in order to exit the neighborhood as quickly and subtly as possible. Once they had reached what he considered to be a 'safe distance' away he relaxed a bit. Emilio handed him a beer, and Thebe looked at it with a raised brow. It seemed that no matter how many times Thebe explained that alcohol, and drugs didn't work on him it just didn't seem to compute for Emilio. He took it, and placed it into the cup-holder, not even bothering to open it. He was sure Emilio would take care of it himself sooner or later. Beer tasted gross to him, add to that the fact that he couldn't get intoxicated in the first place, and Thebe just didn't see the point in bothering with it. “So who’s shit we tearin’ up? Just outta idle curiosity.” It was then that he realized he hadn't even explained the details of what had happened, or the reason he was out to bring the ruckus. "Oh, shit. You know Bo-Peep's flower-shop? The one on the corner? Some fucking ass-hats busted it up something fierce. I'm talkin' full on trashed the joint. They even smacked sweet old Bo-Peep a few times.You believe that shit?" Thebe replied becoming enraged all over again, as he recalled the extent of the damage they'd caused. "Some wannabe Purifier pussies. I'm pretty sure I know where they're holed up at too. Some old church right outside of Hell's Kitchen. I heard some fuck boy ass 'god hate muties' types set up shop there not too long ago. Riling up flat-scans with their bullshit ass hate speech, and shit. To be real, I ain't even sure if these folks are the same people that even hit Bo-Peep's shop, but I figure they'll do. Ya know? Eye for an eye and all that shit." Thebe explained simply his hands tightening around the wheel in anticipation for getting vengeance in the the name of Bo-Peep's flower-shop. "Anyways, how's that stuff you got off Larry? Whatever the fuck it's called. You good and wasted , or whatever the fuck?'' Thebe asked half out of curiosity and half to try and gauge if it would have any effect on Emilio's ability to help him carry out what he had in mind. |
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| Erg | Jun 5 2017, 05:44 AM Post #8 |
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Has a funny eye
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Erg tutted when Thebe simply stowed the beer can away, unopened. He knew the other boy could chug vodka like it was water, he just kept forgetting that he didn’t even like the taste. Seriously, who the fuck didn’t like beer? “Oh, shit. You know Bo-Peep's flower-shop? The one on the corner?” “Uhhh, yeah…” Erg frowned, fairly sure he wasn’t going to like whatever Thebe said next. Florists weren’t exactly the kind of place you’d find a punk like him. But Bo was one of Annalee’s friends. It was so much better for everyone when old Anna came back down to the tunnelsfrom topside jaunts with a happy bouquet of flowers in her hand rather than another missing human kid she’d decided to ‘adopt’. “Some fucking ass-hats busted it up something fierce.” “Fuckin’ whaaaat?!” Erg’s eye flared, a brief crackle of electricity audible over the sound of the SUV engine. “I'm talkin' full on trashed the joint. They even smacked sweet old Bo-Peep a few times. You believe that shit?” Thebe replied becoming enraged all over again. “Who the fuck raids a flower shop?!” His reaction wasn’t, perhaps, as strong as it would be if it was another Morlock who’d been attacked. Put it down to a territorial ‘gang’ mentality his teen years with the Vagos MC had drilled into him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t angry though – just not angry enough to glitch out and immediately put his fist through the windscreen. Which was for the best. “Some wannabe Purifier pussies. I'm pretty sure I know where they're holed up at too. Some old church right outside of Hell's Kitchen.” “Que chingados?!” That got Erg riled up. “Pendejos!” He ended up completely crushing the can in his hands and had to toss it out through the window. “I heard some fuck boy ass 'god hates muties' types set up shop there not too long ago. Riling up flat-scans with their bullshit ass hate speech, and shit.” “They didn’t get the memo after everythin’ tha’s happened?! Magneto ripped ‘em a new one an’ they was supposed to quit that Nazi shitpiggery!” “To be real, I ain't even sure if these folks are the same people that even hit Bo-Peep's shop, but I figure they'll do. Ya know? Eye for an eye and all that shit.” “Hell yeah! Lex talionis man…” Erg growled. Calli had taught him that. She was maybe the only one who understood better than Erg how an eye for an eye literally felt. “Let’s fuck up some bible thumpin’ fascists!” He slammed a hand on the dashboard for emphasis, rocking back and forth in the seat slightly afterwards. His left leg started twitching. “Anyways, how's that stuff you got off Larry? Whatever the fuck it's called.” “Thunderbolt.” Erg rolled his eyes, waggling his fingers around in a sarcastic take on how great it was supposed to be. “Gettin’ rekt Madripoor-style, I guess.” “You good and wasted, or whatever the fuck?” “Uh, I dunno?” Erg shrugged, laughing. He was starting to feel… weirdly impatient. Whether that was chemically induced or just outrage at Purifiers lurking in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t say. Yet. “Imma put Larry’s face through a wall if this shit turns out t’be some weak-ass Adderall knock off.” He pushed himself back into his seat, hard enough to make it creak in protest. His leg was still juddering, foot tapping away. It felt good to just be honest that he was still using. Some of the Morlocks nagged him about becoming a junkie, but it never did any good. If anything it just made him feel worse, which made him crave more shit to dump into his system as an escape. If he was ever going to clean up, he’d have to want it for himself; and at that point he didn’t care much beyond a vague sense of keeping his diet ‘varied’. He figured as long as he didn’t rely too heavily on any one substance and stayed away from needles, he’d be okay… Even though he was only taking the Thunderbolt to distract himself from the fact that he would’ve given his left nut for a few bottles of oxycodone. He looked over at Thebe, his tight grip on the wheel. Erg didn’t really think the kid had it In him to hate the Purifiers and Friends of Humanity dipshits as much as he did. They’d never crucified him or his nearest and dearest, tried to burn them like witches. But from what he was seeing now, he’d maybe underestimated how much the mutant community topside looked out for each other almost as much as the Morlocks down in The Alley looked after their own. Pity there couldn’t be more of a crossover. They didn’t know it back then, but Erg and Thebe’s friendship represented the increasingly blurred lines of M-Town tribalism. The old days of picking a group and fuck everyone else just wasn’t going to work in a post-Apocalypse world. They represented a shift that would eventually see the Morlocks emerging from the dark and desegregating into the general population. “Is Bo okay?” He frowned, cracking open another beer. Breaking faces was what his mutation made his useless ass halfway decent at. But maybe he could take Annalee or Dreamer up to see the old woman. Or convince Tommy Two-Dee to go help her out at the shop or something. |
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| Thebe Okonma | Jul 22 2017, 05:35 PM Post #9 |
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Thebe felt the same connection to Mutant Town that Erg felt for his Morlocks. As far as he was concerned an attack on one of the residents of his neighborhood was an attack on all of them. Attacks were meant to be retaliated against, his opinion on dealing with humans wasn't as extremist as some other mutants like the brotherhood. But the young teenager did believe in the eye for an eye philosophy. As far as he was concerned flat scans would never learn that fucking with mutants wasn't acceptable unless mutants went upside the heads of ignorant humans any and every time they started up with their racist bullshit. “Uh, I dunno?” Erg shrugged, laughing. He was starting to feel… weirdly impatient. Whether that was chemically induced or just outrage at Purifiers lurking in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t say. Yet. “Imma put Larry’s face through a wall if this shit turns out t’be some weak-ass Adderall knock off.” At that Thebe only shrugged whilst giving Erg an 'hell if I know' expression. His inability to feel the effects of drugs meant he was pretty much clueless on what they were supposed to do. “Is Bo okay?” Thebe smacked and rolled his eyes before responding to that question. "Aw, you know how Bo is...more worried about other people than she is about herself. She's more concerned about what I might do, than she is about her own self." Thebe commented sounding almost irritated at Bo's selfless personality. "Waste of time...I mean...It's pretty much a guaranteed fact that after some flatscans pull that shit I'm gonna be on some dumb shit." Thebe added. "Can't deny who we are, or whatever," Thebe stated a matter of factly. "Anyway, I think we're almost here you ready?" Thebe asked not that it mattered, Thebe was going to start wreaking havoc whether Emilio was ready or not. He had always been a sort of trial by fire individual after all. "We're about to show these clown how M-Town gets down." He added with a mischevious grin |
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| Erg | Oct 16 2017, 01:17 AM Post #10 |
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Has a funny eye
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“Aw, you know how Bo is…” Did he though? Erg opened his mouth to say something but, for once, nothing came flying out. It was almost embarrassing to admit he didn’t really know anyone outside the Morlocks too well; Thebe was the exception rather than the rule. Faces, a few names, beyond that his working knowledge revolved solely around people who were friends of other Morlocks, people to score from and people best avoided. “More worried about other people than she is about herself. She's more concerned about what I might do, than she is about her own self.” “She ain’t right to worry?” Erg grinned, figuring they were all set to smash some heads. His internal logic knew there were bound to be repercussions. And probably more so for a topsider like Thebe than himself. But his gut had elected to ignore that chance. Whatever they were about to do, the fallout was Future-Erg’s problem, not his. He watched the houses crawl pass, apartment blocks and store fronts getting gradually more dilapidated or armoured as the SUV rolled through the city traffic into Hell’s Kitchen. It got to the point where the only places he recognised were all bars he’d gotten drunk in and/or kicked out of at one time or another… “Waste of time… I mean… It's pretty much a guaranteed fact that after some flatscans pull that shit I'm gonna be on some dumb shit,” Thebe conceeded. “Can't deny who we are, or whatever.” “S’right. An’ what’a they expect, anyway?” Erg cracked another can open, foam immediately frothing over his knuckles onto the floor of the stolen ride. “You poke at a wasp’s nest, some motherfucker’s gonna get stung, right?” He ducked his head to lick at his fingers before taking a noisy slurp. “Anyway, I think we're almost here you ready?” “Hell yeah!” Erg was half-hanging out of the car before it had even been parked. He let one boot heel grate over the warm concrete, feeling the vibration run through his whole foot. If the wing mirror on the open door got clipped off in the process it was no skin off their nose. “We're about to show these clown how M-Town gets down.” He returned Thebe’s mischievous grin with his own, more manic version. Maybe it was just the shit Larry sold him, but he could already feel bio-electricity dancing through his blood, hammering at his frontal lobe, making the muscles in his arms and legs practically tremble. If they didn’t manage to start a fight now, Erg would have to go beat a trash can to death, just to get the feeling out of his system. He twisted around awkwardly to untie the stained old bandanna knotted around one bicep - the same worn out Vagos green as his vest. Once freed from his jacket it was hastily smoothed out on one thigh then tied around his lower face. It was important to make sure these dipshits knew it was a mutant retaliation; but their powers would make that obvious enough. No need to arm them with his full face to ID when they inevitably went crying to the cops afterwards. He stood to full height, slamming the car door behind him and banging on the roof for good measure. Ahead stood a dilapidated double doorway, one dim fluorescent bulb sputtering overhead. It looked to have some kind of Presbytarian Church sign above, albeit missing a few letters. But sprayed over all the other layers of graffiti on the door was an angular Third Reich looking eagle shape with ‘F o H’ lettered across it’s wingspan. Friends of Humanity. Aka Scum of the Earth. He closed his good eye and focused his vision on a rusty piece of fencing. A beam of pure heat shot out from his ‘electric eye’, quickly making the residual condensation on the metal hiss. It glowed red, then white. Using the corner of his jacket as a makeshift oven mitt, Erg braced a foot against the fencing, grabbed one rail and yanked. The bar’s base broke away with a faint screech. He repeated the process for the top end, pulling free what was essentially a metal baton with sharp, super-heated tips. He swung it through the air in a practice blow, approving of the wooshing sound it made as it cut through the air. Turning back he shook his head free of static fuzz from the power display and shot Thebe a questioning look. “You goin’ as is?” |
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7:13 PM Jul 11