Story Short Stories of a Crow Outta Hell

CrowOuttaHell

Skull-Faced Writer
Hey! Your friendly, neighborhood Crow here. This is just going to be mostly a place where I dump random stories that I usually get around to writing- or when I get inspired about something that happened recently, and want to put it into words.

Just in case anyone views this thread:

CONTENTS:
 
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The Misadventures of Sir Gaheris Compilation 1
There was once a hero, noble and bold,
With sword and shield, and boots wearing old
Striking down ridiculously overpowered grunts
All for the sake of never again being called a runt

"Oh god, finally, that's the last damn dragon I kill!" Gaheris, a youth in chipped and underlevelled armor cried out as his EXP bar finally filled up to the maximum. "I've finally reached the level cap! I can literally afford to just kick back and bask in the glory of a veteran!"

Little did our hero know, as he basked in his glory
That his problems would soon only make him worry
About staying away from lower levelled areas
And so began his not so humble tales...

Sir Gaheris on Being a Level Capped User in a Low Level Area -

That One Annoying Lower Leveled Player -
Ever since he had put on that shiny new armor for higher leveled players, new ones seemed to flock to the overwhelmed knight like moths to a flame.

"Gaheris! Gaheris, can you help me out?"

Still, the feeling of helping out someone was good. So reluctantly, the knight turned around and thanked himself that he was wearing a helmet.

"I, er...yes. What do you need?"
"Can you help me level up?"

"How do I even do that?" Gaheris wracked his brain for answers. He didn't know of any way to share EXP! He thought that was only in RPG games that weren't real time! Luckily, his smaller and no doubt less experienced counterpart graced him with an answer.

"Just party up with me and help me take down enemies! Easy right?"

"So, you're telling me you just want me to kill random grunts for you..." Deep breaths. He took several deep breaths before nodding.

Little did he know, that was the start of his problems.

"Gaheris! Gaheris, god, I can't get anything in this area! Let's go somewhere else!"

"Oh, Gaheris! Help me take this one down!"
"You haven't even dented it."
"Yeah, well I was waiting for you!"

"Hey, Gaheris! Where are you? Come pick me up at the spawning point!"
"I'm at the other side of the dungeon."
"You know I can't get over there! I'll get killed!"
"Then why the hell are you grinding in a Level 9 area when you're level 3 with no decent equipment...?!"

Finally- with Gaheris managing to not take the kid's head off his shoulders the whole time- they got back to the spawning point for the Level 1 area in one piece. The weary knight sat atop a tree stump. "This seems like a good place to take a break. How many levels have you grown?"

"I'm Level 5 now. I want to get to 10."
"Not until you get better equipment, kid. You still have the materials from grinding, so you probably should get to crafting--"
"Gaheris, give me your armor."

It took every ounce of willpower in his body to prevent himself from bashing a gauntlet-clad fist in the kid's face. Instead, the knight settled on staring at his sword. Shiny...gleaming...could decapitate a low-levelled player monster...

"Now how in the five hells am I going to do that?" Gaheris spoke up, voice coming out unnaturally gruff. "There's no trading system in the game, kid."

"I don't know. Just give me your armor." "No."

A brief pause. Then, "How old are you?"

"This guy must be getting pretty desperate if he wants to take things out of the game...!" Gaheris controlled himself again and glared at the man through the visor of his helmet. "That's personal."

"What school do you go to?" "Argh! That's it! That's it! This kid better be happy there's no PvP in this game!" As Gaheris stood, he was all about ready to attack...but...

"Too personal. Hold on, I'm going to look for more areas to level up." With that, he took out the fast travelling crystal. He hit the button for the highest level area he could and vanished in light.

"Gaheris! Gaheris, where are you?"

"Shit! I forgot to leave the party!" The knight glanced around and ultimately settled on...

...hiding behind a rock until the kid went offline, leaving the party.

Scary Armor -
Even though he hit the level cap, there were still players that had far better looking armor than Gaheris wore.
Mostly because the knight wasn't exactly looking at the stats- just the looks. And so, as he was polishing his new blade, he saw a very, very terrifying berserker knight come up to him.

"Shit! It's a P2P!" Gaheris looked up, wary.

"Can I...help you, sir?"

"Gaheris..."

A brief pause.

"How did you get the stone for that sword? I can't seem to find it anywhere."

His shoulders slackened. So it was just some guy asking for directions.
Well, no matter. Though it was intimidating.

"Uhh...just go under the bridge, there should be a chest there, and from there you can get the stone for free..."

Private and Public Dungeons -
"Hey! Can anyone here help me out with getting the War Axe? I can't solo the dungeon!"

Gaheris perked up at the sound. Oho? A person asking for help? No fear, Sir Gaheris the Brave was here! He looked around for the knight in trouble.

"Do you mean the one in the Bone Forest?"

"Yeah, that one!" Gaheris immediately sent him a party invite. The area was level 6- it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

However, when he entered the dungeon...

"Huh? Where'd he go? Left party? Damn it!"

When in a party, please select Private/Party Dungeon rather than Public Dungeon. Thank you.

Lone Hunter -
"Finally! We've reached the top of the tower! Now, after clearing all the enemies here the portal should open--
huh?"

All three warriors in the party looked around as the last flying eye monster went down. "Why isn't the portal opening?"

"The mission objective was to clear all enemies..."

"The map is sprawling out..."

"So there still must be enemies..."

Silence.
Then, Gaheris pitched himself off the edge of the tower.

"Go get 'em, Gaheris!" "We'll be cheering you on!" "Good luck finding the enemies!"

"Bastards!! Come follow me down here--!!!"

Name calling -
"Gaheris!" "Gahy!" "Garis!"

"Y-You know, this would be more motivational if more than one of you was saying my name right..."

Gaheris took a few more swings at the gigantic monster- the raid boss. However, a well-timed shot to the chest depleted the last of his HP as the knight was sent flying through the air.

"W-Whoa--!"

"Noooo!"

The knight groaned, lying on the floor. "A-Augh...you guys have to take it on...without me...! Go! You don't need a level-capped player to win this fight...!"

"Wait! Senpai!"

"S-Senpai?!"

He hit the respawn button.

"Alright--! I feel stronger! Let's take that stupid tree down!!"
 
Bloodsong
"I am a knight of my oath, I live by the codes of chivalry, I live...I live I live I live I live I live I live--"

Every step is agony. The joints creak under his control, the right arm can barely bend, and the gauntlet can barely flex its fingers. The machine- the Knight, under his control, is old, beaten and broken.

Just like him. Just like the dying man that lay inside it.

"You're going to die if you keep this up," They said. "If you continue using the Knight like this, then it will become you. You shall be the Knight's heart."

"If I am to be nothing but a bloody heart...if it means destroying our enemies then so be it."

He whispered continuously to himself. The codes of chivalry, the knighthood, the oath-- but his mind is not focused on his words. His mind focuses continuously on once beautiful halls painted with blood, fires breaking out amongst the citizen, dead bodies littering the streets. "Disgusting," He tells himself. "Absolutely disgusting."

But the blood is what drives him forward. He thirsts for it. He thirsts for the blood of his enemies, to see their heads on sticks just like what they did to her--

Her.

The very thought of that woman makes him cry out in pain. He loosens his hands from the controls, and it feels foreign- as if they had been melding into the metal. He howls. The pain in his head throbs all the way from his brain to his heart to all of his organs.

He doesn't even realize his actions until it is done. The Knight moves. The Knight rips out another machine's head and stabs it onto the statue of their savior's blade, to make an example of all that dare defy it. The Knight rips out the still alive heart pilot of the machine, and crushes it in its clawed hand. The Knight shreds a machine to pieces.

"This is retribution," He tells himself repeatedly. "This is for all they've killed. For her. For my brothers. For my father. For the Guardian."

The metal liquefies under his hands. It twists, like a living being, wrapping around his hands, his legs. It wraps around him, pulsing, throbbing.

He realizes his mission.

His mission is to hunt. To hunt every single one of them down. As the realization comes, so does the fact that he now looks up at the bloodied night sky with his own two eyes. Not from within a Knight.

He realizes he is looking from the Knight's eyes.

It is at this moment that the man dies. The metal pulsates like blood through his veins. He flexes the gauntlet with ease, and he bends the cannon at his right.

And when he howls, he is reborn.

And the hunt begins anew.
 
Strawberry Champagne and Ice
"Now, see here, Lynn-- our entire mob- no, our family values bonds and connections. Be a good girl and get along with her, okay?"

Lynn wasn't so annoyed before. But if she wasn't- then she certainly was now. She already had a problem starting from the time when Salvador, her father, walked into the Sinclair mansion as he shook off the rain from his coat. As she and her mother ran up to intercept the soaked man, she picked up on him talking to something...or someone.

"You're not too cold from the rain, are you? We'll take care of you."

For a moment, she hoped it was a pet. But it wasn't.

It was a little girl, around her age, with light blue hair and eyes. Unlike the more-refined Sinclair daughter, she was dressed in soaked clothes and had specks of mud still splattered on her shins. She would have looked regal, if she wasn't soaked to the bone and shivering from cold.

"Dad? Who is she?"

"Ah! Lynn, get this girl a change of clothes, alright? You're around the same age so yours should do fine, for now. We can go look for more clothes in the morning."

"Salvador, who did you bring in?" Her mother, not exactly as patient as the young girl piped in to echo Lynn's question. Salvador chuckled sheepishly. "See...I'll-- I'll explain it later. For now--" He turned towards Lynn again, nudging the girl forward.

"For now, Lynn- meet Roxanne, your new sister."


Life was annoying after that.

It wasn't as if Lynn was spoiled- she wouldn't survive the family business if she was-, but between her and Roxanne, her relatives were clearly pouring more effort into one over the other. It didn't help that Uncle Cornelius was constantly complimenting Roxanne. Because clearly, Roxanne was the "better" kid. Better manners, better etiquette, better...everything.

It annoyed Lynn. It may have caused her to be colder than usual.

When a knock at her door came, her fists automatically clenched when she heard the voice. "Lynn? Breakfast's ready--"

"Not hungry."

Her voice came out sharper than she intended. Or maybe...she did intend for it to sound that way.

Either way, she could practically feel Roxanne wincing behind the door. "A-Alright then...Still, if you get hungry--"

"I already said I'm not."

Another strong wince, and then a meek, "Alright, if that's what you want..." When the footsteps faded, Lynn tried to unclench her fists.

She wasn't so surprised when they failed to recognize the command.


Sabre training was something the Sinclairs prided themselves on. While Cornelius and Salvador sparred, the two watched- and after that, they'd practice themselves. And of course, Roxanne always had the upper hand.

"As if she ever lost the upper hand, anyway," Lynn reminded herself bitterly. The outcome of their sparring matches was practically consistent. It usually ended up with her on the floor and the blue-haired girl looking horribly apologetic.

She stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the other girl's face and the soreness in her body.

"Lynn! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"I'm fine," She grunted out. While she attempted to sit up, a pain spread through her stomach and she hissed, tossing herself sharply back onto the floor. It didn't take long for Roxanne to be at her side immediately, helping her up.

Even while she was being half-dragged back to her room, drifting half-in and half-out of consciousness, Lynn was annoyed.


Pain and nausea was the first thing Lynn noticed after she had that weird drink. She was trapped in her room for three days, unable to hold anything down and constantly lying sick. She was missing so much training...and not to mention, neither Salvador nor her mother were around to help.

"Why'd you two have to die at the worst possible moments?" She thought, throwing her head back. When she heard the doorknob rattle a bit, she weakly turned her head as she heard voices outside.

"Oh? Roxanne! You shouldn't bother your sister."

"I just want to make sure Lynn's okay, Uncle! She hasn't come out in...in forever!"

"Even now, she cares about me? Surprising." Lynn closed her eyes and forced herself to go to sleep.

Two days after that, her maid woke her in the middle of the night after seeing her unnatural speed.

A few weeks after that, Lynn Sinclair was no more.


She wondered briefly if Roxanne once felt like this. Hanging out here, in the rain, clothes soaked and waiting. Waiting for someone to come by.

But if Roxanne was waiting for someone to pick her up, then Lynn was waiting for someone to rob.

Her chance came when a man in a bird mask stumbled out of the tavern. She briefly considered the fact that she hadn't heard that the tavern was hosting any sort of circus event- but the man's hat would fetch a fine price to some kids that wanted out of the rain.

Steadying her breathing, Lynn took only a few quick steps, and swiped the man's hat off, neatly. Before she could land though, she felt a strong arm around her waist and yelped in surprise as a bird's beak was shoved practically into her face.

"Lemme go, you freak!"

"Not unless you let go of my hat, girl," The birdman wheezed. Reluctantly, she let go, and the man stooped down briefly to pick it up. Readjusting it with one hand on his head, he still did not let her go, so she ended up pounding on his arm.

"Put me down already!"

"That speed...that was unnatural." He spoke slowly, as if he was struggling for breath with every word. "Essence, perhaps? Or are you just fleet-footed?"

"I've been called 'Renegade' on the streets, so buzz off...you...you bird!" She stuck her tongue out. The birdman wheezed again- this time in laughter. "Wait...I think I recognize you. From Salvador's limousine."

"Y-You know Dad...?" Lynn's voice broke halfway. If she could see past the man's bird mask, she would have been able to tell that he was smiling.

"Oh, I know him. Not in the way you think, though. You're his daughter-- Lynn Sinclair."

"Not anymore after Uncle Cornelius practically kicked me out! It was always Roxanne, Roxanne, Roxanne!" Lynn found herself ranting to the strange man. Still, he didn't even seemed perturbed in the least. Instead, he reached out a gloved hand and lightly ruffled her hair before extending it for a...handshake?

"I believe I've forgotten my manners. My name is Barlowe. I'm called 'Angry Bird' Barlowe, by some of my...friends."

After she shook his hand, he leaned in so that the tip of the bird's beak rested against her nose. "And little Lynn, I lead a group called the Back-Alley Vultures. We take in Renegades like you."

"Dad talked about you. Everyone else on the street was talking about you," She spoke, struggling a bit. Barlowe just shook his head. "Ah, but Lynn-- do you have anywhere else to go aside from us?"

Finding herself at a loss for words, she watched as Barlowe took off his hat and placed it on her head to shield her somewhat from the rain. "There we go. Now...how do I go about telling the lads and lassies that we've got a Sinclair child in our ranks..."

That was the day Lynn stopped being just a street kid with a sleight of hand. That day, she grew her wings-- the wings of a Back-Alley Vulture.


"What did I ever do that Lynn would run away like that?"

Roxanne stared at the photograph in her hands, shaking. Her eyes shone with unshed tears- she was worried and frustrated at the same time at her half-sister's disappearance. First, Salvador, the man who took her in- then, his wife, then the maid, then Lynn.

Of all the people she expected wouldn't disappear, it was Lynn.

"What did I do?" She whispered to herself, shaking her head and wiping away the tears that began to trickle down. A familiar sound of footfalls came into the room she was in, and soon, she could feel Uncle Cornelius's fur coat.

"Oh Roxanne, don't cry," Cornelius whispered. "Lynn just ran away because she was jealous of you. She was mad at you."

"She wasn't mad at me," Roxanne whispered- moreso to herself than Cornelius. But at the same time...was Lynn mad at her? She was always so cold, so dismissive...

"But she was. But now, Roxanne, you don't need to worry about that. Now that Lynn is gone..."

She looked up into Cornelius's face as his lips curled into a smile.

"Roxanne, you are the new Princess."


Omake:

"Oh, Lynn, you never learn."

"Fuck off, Roxanne. Go back barking to your masters." Lynn's words were as venomous as always, but it easily deflected off of Roxanne's cool head. After all, she had the girl pinned to a wall by at least two Sinclair soldiers. The blue-haired woman brandished her sabre, admiring the blade for a moment and catching Lynn's quick glance at the weapon. She carelessly and lightly waved the blade in front of the pinned woman.

"Remember those practices back then? It was always like this."

Lynn didn't grace her with a reply, so she extended the blade until the sharp tip danced dangerously close to Lynn's neck. "Believe me, I've gotten so much better with training partners that weren't you. I can even do this."

She easily undid the girl's ribbon simply with a few deft twists of the blade's tip. The red ribbon fell away, and she could practically feel the other woman's grimace.

"This, too." She lightly poked the buttons of her shirt, and smiled in satisfaction. "I can beat you with just one hand, Lynn."

"Aye-- with the same hand you use to beat yourself- and the other Sinclair soldiers too- with, I'd bet." Lynn faked an expression of disgust. "No thanks, Roxanne."

"I didn't take you for the person who would believe rumors. But then again--" Roxanne tried her best to keep from gritting her teeth. Looking angry would just give Lynn the satisfaction. "--you started most of the rumors about me."

"Not my fault the masses need the truth." Lynn flashed a wry grin, teeth practically shining.

It took every ounce of willpower in the blue-haired girl to not just slide her blade over that pale, smooth neck- but she knew even afterwards she'd remember those scathing words, and that cocky grin. "How could I forget, after I've lived with them all my life?"

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or could it be-- something else did?" Lynn continued. "I'd imagine you've been had by many."

"That's enough," She hissed, pulling down her hat over her eyes. "Keep her there. I've got a few ideas I'd like to try on this woman before her tongue gets cut off for those words." She expected to get a rise out of Lynn...but the redhead just leaned forward, ever so slightly. Roxanne found herself mirroring the movement until they were practically touching.

"Bite me." Lynn challenged, and withdrew afterwards.

"Oh, I will." Roxanne breathed to herself, turning away from her half-sister.

 
Sisterly Bonding
A sharp slash at the side. Falling, up from a window. Falling to the ground, head colliding with cement, world turning dark--

As Lynn came to, the first things she felt already unnerved her to no end. First was the expected pain- she was sure that her head had a bump, and that her body ached. The second was the more unnerving sense of familiarity- she recognized the scent of the sheets of the bed she was lying on, and the window, rain pouring in waves outside. A little too much.

With a start, she suddenly realized that she was in the Sinclairs' mansion. In her room.

She willed her rapidly beating heart to slow, lest she grow nauseous. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath, and twisted slightly. It was a foolish and reckless decision to go on that mission alone- and the third thing she sensed alerted her that she wasn't alone in the room. Of course it wasn't Allen- much less a Vulture. For a moment she lamented going alone a second time. Still, the only people who could possibly be in this room was a Sinclair, no doubt about it. She would be lucky if it was just a soldier, much luckier if it was an untrained one. Or an associate. Lynn instinctively palmed the collar of her shirt, feeling for something and reassuring herself that it was still there.

She began to turn, wincing at the pain in her side. She did it carefully, as to not alert the person that she was awake- though her plan failed. She cursed inwardly as the person began to walk closer.

And as they came into view, Lynn couldn't suppress her grimace.

"Looks like you're awake."

"Why? Thought that I was dead?" The moment that the familiar face of Roxanne Frauss Sinclair came into view, Lynn was already plotting her escape. There was no way she was going to be sitting here, stuck in a room with that woman. "Why'd it have to be her?!"

Roxanne simply chuckled, walking over. "I'll admit I thought you were, when you were lying out there," She remarked, suddenly reaching a pale hand towards Lynn's stomach. "But now-- I'm sure you're not."

She pressed down. Lynn hissed, head jolting involuntary downward as her eyes caught the sight partially covered by Roxanne's hand. Her vest was already cast off to the side, the white dress shirt underneath soaked with red. "Shit! The hit I took..."

"Only your boys carry swords," She grunted, forcing a wry grin. "I'll be damned if I say you didn't plan on this."

"Lynn, if I didn't plan on this, then do you think you'd even be here?" The woman with the light blue hair moved her hand away. "Or have this?"

The view Roxanne had been obscuring was that of bloodied bandages wrapped around the deep cut in Lynn's side. While the auburn-haired girl tried to process it, Roxanne shrugged. "One of my shirts is not as long as it used to be, thanks to you."

"I thought that since you were a caporegime, you'd at least have access to bandages." Lynn countered glumly, though her eyes remained trained on the wound. Why in the five hells would Roxanne go out of her way to bandage her up? She was a Vulture and the other was a Sinclair, and Lynn knew Roxanne was one of the toughest, most sadistic caporegimes of the Sinclair Family. She didn't need to stare long- Roxanne had soon moved to tug them loose to inspect the girl's wound.

"I couldn't take a close look earlier, but now that we're alone..."

"How the hell did I get into this situation again?" Lynn thought. Here she was- Barlowe's protege, a gangster under the guise of a mischievous college girl and a runaway from the mob- now being treated by someone who she was sure was out for her blood. "Does Roxanne plan to abuse my gratitude?" She was nice before. Was being the keyword. Now? She wasn't so sure.

Roxanne's eyes finally left her wound as she stood. She made her way over to a dresser nearby, pulling open a drawer. "I'm sure this looks very familiar to you, Lynn." She produced...a needle.

"Roxanne," Lynn hissed through gritted teeth. "You're not giving me stitches."

"Would you rather you bleed out there then? Or die of some infection? I'd gladly oblige." Regardless of her words, Roxanne threaded the needle with all the grace of a skilled tailor. The woman herself was a damn irony, Lynn thought. The same, pale and slender fingers threading the needle with ease, could also be wrapped around the hilt of a sabre poised at her neck. Lynn was sure that she hated one another and yet here they were- like a sick patient and a doctor.

"Relax." Once again, Roxanne's hands ended up on her. One hand was pressed against her ribs, just under the breast, and the other pinched her cut closed. "How can I, with you doing that?"

"If you want it to hurt more then feel free to struggle as much as you want." The first prick and jab of the needle only managed to draw out the faintest hint of a pained hiss from Lynn. "You know what Cornelius says about my stitches, Lynn? He says I'm the fastest in Rainford."

"I don't-- know how to feel about that," It was true. When she glanced down, Roxanne had already gotten through with two stitches, and was starting with another. And the slight discomfort of being jabbed with a sharp needle and having a thread dragged through sensitive skin soon grew into newfound pain.

"Shit--! She really is sadistic isn't she?" Lynn grit her teeth, forcing herself to stare. Roxanne looked perfectly calm while doing it, making idle talk all the while. Only bits and pieces of it fell on Lynn's ears, what with the burning in her side.

"...the four guys you knocked out at the Conclave were the first to see you. They wanted to do things, Lynn, if I, as their capo, didn't stop them."

"Bitter over me taking a bat to them, I'd bet," Lynn struggled to keep her voice level. "Unlike this damn woman, who wants to kill me with this pain." She was sure Roxanne was deriving satisfaction over this- at least, that's what the calm smile told her.

After practically an eternity of pain, Roxanne pulled away and dabbed at the newly bleeding wound with Lynn's old bandages. "That should do it. I did say I was the fastest in Rainford, didn't I?"

"At the cost of my own comfort, you bitch," The other thought, mustering a defiant glare as Roxanne left for a moment to return to the drawers. She rifled through a bit before producing a clear bottle of liquor. "I must say-- I don't exactly share Cornelius's nor Salvador's tastes in drink, but this should do the trick."

She lifted it to her lips and uncorked it with her teeth. Then, in a few brisk steps and a flurry of light blue hair, she was atop the injured girl. Without another moment's hesitation, Lynn struggled. The nausea quadrupled and her heart beat harshly in her chest. She could feel her Essence kicking in- if only she could get the damn woman off of her!

"What the fuck are you doing, Roxanne?!" Lynn snapped, glaring up. Roxanne didn't look too bothered- but Lynn caught the slight crease of her brow. "Stay still, I said. You're always too stubborn for your own good."

She tipped the bottle over and let the whiskey hit the wound. If Lynn wasn't making any noises before, she certainly was now.

"Aaaugh--! Damn you!"

"Have you never been to a hospital or gotten yourself treated before? Just be thankful the muscle underneath your skin wasn't damaged." The other scolded, running a hand through her hair before moving to bandage up the wound- with proper bandages now. She poured the rest of the bottle's contents into a tall glass that she offered to the auburn-haired girl.

"If it bothers you so much, here. And you can be sure it's not poisoned- I wouldn't have used it to clean your wound otherwise."

Lynn stared at the glass for a moment, as if debating with herself. Finally, she gave up and took it, drinking from it slowly but not draining it.

"This would be a lot less awkward if you hadn't turned your back on the Sinclair Family, Lynn." The other spoke idly, levelling a stare at her. Lynn quirked an eyebrow. "But you chose to ran away, only to get involved with a rival gang. Goes to show there really is no escape from the mob."

"Those are the lies Cornelius have been feeding you, huh?" Seeing Roxanne's sharp stare, Lynn shrugged. "You don't need to be in the mob to be successful."

"And yet you're still in the Vultures. You're arguably worse off than you were before, Lynn. Standing on the streets? Running a net cafe? Sweet-talking people into paying their debts?" The woman shook her head. "You wouldn't be doing any of that if you were still a Sinclair."

"Well then, what would I be doing then, eh? Ransacking small businesses and destroying practically all of their furniture to prove a point? Stealing suitcases? Hiring thugs and setting people up?"

"What choice do we have? The strong overpowers the weak- it's an eat or be eaten world here in Rainford. And Lynn, if you're not careful then you'll be eaten."

"By who? By you? I bet you get off to that." Still, Lynn thrust the glass back at Roxanne, half-emptied. "If you say I'm weak, then I'll just have to show you that I can get stronger."

"If that's how it's going to be." Roxanne took it and drank down the rest, setting the glass aside and leaning in, dangerously close. "But if you and your Renegade friend ever think of switching--" Her voice dropped. "--think of it as being allied with me and not...Cornelius..."

Roxanne's head slumped to Lynn's shoulder as her eyes closed. Lynn managed a wry grin.

"Stealth, subterfuge and sleight of hand. You never fail me." She dug out the necklace she hid under her shirt, a small locket that contained a special sleeping powder. The same powder she had slipped into the whiskey glass while Roxanne was too busy with lecturing her. "I probably should have brought Boss's poison, but just knocking out Roxanne is fine."

She managed to get herself to stand, and she redid the buttons of her shirt and slipped on the bloodstained vest. She located her headphones nearby and slipped them around her neck, and took a glance back at the knocked out caporegime.

"I could take care of her, right here and right now." She realized as she stepped over. Roxanne wouldn't be waking up for a while, that much was certain. But still...even as Lynn rest her hands on the other girl's shoulders, she felt a twinge deep in her.

Once, they'd both been children. Once, they were in the same house, doing the same things, except Roxanne was nicer, better, always the kinder child while Lynn was cold and always harbored envy towards the other girl. No matter how she looked at it now, Lynn knew she was the one in the wrong back then, and Cornelius took advantage of it. He twisted the kind little girl Lynn once knew into the sadistic caporegime she was now.

And once, they were even sisters.

With a mighty effort- thanks to her own stamina and the wound at her side-, Lynn dragged the other woman's body into the bed. She draped the damp and blood-soaked blanket over her before sitting down briefly to recover her strength.

"This way, you could just make up a story about how you passed out due to the whiskey." She chuckled weakly at her own joke. She unlatched the window and climbed out, letting the sight of Roxanne's passed out form leave her sight. Later, back at base, she'd be telling the Boss she had brought powder instead of poison- but she knew what she was doing when she grabbed the powder instead of the poison. She knew full well that she would probably run into Roxanne, and that she'd most probably lose and something like this would happen.

And no matter how much the hardships of gang life had hardened Lynn...she knew she couldn't take her half-sister's life.
 
Unyielding
Success is a flame, and winning is the spark that ignites it.

There was no resisting the power in your veins. The moment your hands are on it, it binds you, controls you, and you don't care about what anyone says. You don't pay attention to the voices from the outside, telling you about your state. You know it's controlling you and you accept it...for the sheer feeling of being a winner.

The moment your hands grasp that power, your mind blanks.

It's the strangest feeling in the world. You feel numb, and yet your body grows sensitive to everything. Your eyes stay open for longer. And when your battle begins, you stop thinking.

You stop thinking, stop feeling. You grow numb to the world outside of your battle. Your eyes stay only on the sight before you as your hands move with a will of their own, your eyes following- ever so sharp and yet still so blind.

Pay no attention to the voices from outside.

Pay no attention to the burning of your forearms, the gradual burn and ache in the joints of your fingers. You can't think, can't feel, can't talk- the slightest movement will break you out of your battle and you wouldn't want that. Your blood feels like fire in your veins, your breathing quickens, and yet you don't notice these things.

It is only when you have overcome all the pain that the battle ends- you breathe raggedly, one of your hands feels frozen and the other far too loose.

It is only when you proved yourself unyielding to the pain that you can truly call yourself a champion.
 
Rainy Night At The Forest

He remembered the dream- and the memory- so vividly.

It had been raining hard that night, but even Yuugo could hear the faint growling within the forest, the unmistakable sound of paws against the cracked, fallen leaves. The rain splashed hard against his back, but he curled himself further around the girl he carried in his arms as he hurried back to his house.

"Come on, come on, you have to hold on..." He burst into the room in a frenzy, though he carefully lay down the girl on the couch. As he brushed her matted brown hair away from her face, she let out a low, shaky moan of pain- shifting uncomfortably and trembling.

He'd found her slumped against a tree, bruised and cut all over. There was a rather nasty looking wound near her neck, and it seemed that she had been in the rain for a few hours already; she was lucky to be alive. Her blood's scent had attracted a few wolves, but they weren't anything a shotgun couldn't scare off.

Yuugo busied himself with the first aid kit he kept in his house, treating the girl's wounds as best he could. She shifted every now and then, letting out the occasional groan of pain, but didn't stir further than that.

He didn't remember exactly when he finished- only that he fell asleep kneeling beside her right after he did, her name on his lips.

"Ash..."

At that part of the dream, Yuugo found himself disconnecting from the man that now lay asleep at her side- as if he were a mere observer to the scene.

But it didn't matter.

Just as long as she was okay, nothing else mattered.


"...go. YUUGO!"

His eyes snapped open. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep, and the throbbing in his head paid his price. He groaned and leaned back in his chair.

"Come on," He heard Ashleigh groan, "how long are you going to sleep in? Help me clean!"

Yuugo slowly opened his eyes, hoping somewhere deep inside him that by "clean", Ash meant actually cleaning the shack.

But of course not. He found the brunette standing near the sink, red staining her fingers and the knife in her other hand. A trout lay on its side, helplessly gutted by his hunter of a foster sister.

"Trout again?" He chuckled, though it came out weaker. Side effects of sleep, he supposed.

"It's not my fault the stream nearby has a ton of hungry trout," Ash responded, not turning to him as she carefully pulled the poor fish's guts out and tossed them into a water bucket next to her. She turned around, looking simultaneously menacing- with the blood and guts of the trout on her fingers and a bit on her cheek- and...harmless.

"Well, now that I'm done cleaning," She turned back, nudging the bucket over to him. "You can go throw that out."

"And--?" Yuugo picked up the bucket without much hesitation. He'd seen worse.

"And afterwards, we're going to do that thing you love to do all the time."

"Which would be?"

"Smoking. We're going to smoke this trout."

Yuugo laughed. "I don't think we're talking about the same kind of smoking, Ash."

"We might not be," She smirked at him over her shoulder, carelessly pointing at him with the knife. "But then that'd mean I get to enjoy a nice, smoked trout while you try to roll it up and light it."

"Oh, where would I be without your wisdom..." Yuugo chuckled as he exited the kitchen with the bucket.

As he made his way down the path, guts and blood sloshing about in the bucket, he espied the area where he had first found Ash- helpless against the rain and the predators that had surrounded her.

And now here she was, hunting game and gutting poor fish she managed to retrieve from the nearby stream.

Yuugo smiled.

It was good to have family, indeed.
 

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