Search Results

Is in a Killer7 mood.

I have work to do quite often these days.

The competition was a fierce two month long tourney, but you rose to the challenge and had something to say before anyone else could get a word...

At least it has gotten further than Young Joey? The question mark is because I'm not actually sure that it has.

Remember, down the river not across the road.

Jiku Neon, away!

Dude. That's absolutely ******ed.

[X] All of the above plus a buffet of different gourmet foods(HEAVEN OR HELL DUEL 1 LET'S ROCK MODE)

If only for the reference.

[x] See if you can make something for the both of you.

The shitberg. You're at the top of it. Get digging.

The lights were the real center of the show, waving through the dark in a crazed movement of wonder. <----Blue pattern confirmed. It's a typo.

I feel like there's not much to say about the technical aspect, you've kept a consistently improved grammar base and stylistically you don't get to the point where anything is repetitive or boring. It's clearly not gonna be an instant classic but it is diverting and novel to read. There are so many other things that are much more serio0us that are so much easier to critique, maybe I'm just not able to look at it properly because of the novelty of seeing characters and say, "Hey, I've seen that one person post." Or whatever the case may be.

So until I have a real critique for you again I'll just sit back and let you do your thing.

Spoiler

Aside: Story me had a lame power.

Not gonna start in any particular place and not gonna follow any particular train of thought, so if it doesn't make sense, I apologize. Also, opinions ahead. I very much dislike the intrusive nature of the narration. Especially when the goal seems to be to bring the story close, because until the narrator shuts up it holds the plot at a distance and keeps it very, very impersonal and hard to immerse oneself in. Grammar and spelling check: I saw maybe two to five typos at the most. Good job, not much to say on the technical aspect other than Plums comment about italics. It gets stale quick and the emphatic quality drops exponentially. At least you follow a consistent system, maybe it should have some stricter rules on what gets italicized though. Snacks for thought. Characters: Rhia sounds awful. She's the kind of person I'd hate because she tried to be nice, I'd see it as an affectation and a condescension. Perhaps it would have been better to not minmax your party leader and built a solid(albeit normal) and balanced person that the reader can actually sympathize with. As things are, I want her to fail regardless of how one explains her situation, not your goal I'm guessing. On the flip side, you did a brilliant little job with the false siblings. That whole section on them was a joy to read. Likeable characters with a little more than 2 facets to them. Great supporting cast in the making here. Oliver is very bland and generic, not unsympathetic, but in need of something to make him more than the team emo kid. Plot: Nothing to say here yet. Overall: I vacillate on whether I want to read more. There are many positives but almost as many negatives. The writing is fine but it feels like there are goals that you're trying to acheive here that are actually being frustrated by the vehicles you've created to achieve them. Potential describes this story quite well, to me. That's all I've got for you.

I think we need to change the name of this place to Academy City. Still reading on the off chance you guys find the Dragon Balls. We all know who you'd wish back first.

Also, jutting not jetting.

Peace.

2-1

Spoiler

Erica awoke in darkness, not total darkness but close enough to it to blind her temporarily until her eyes adjusted. The last thing she remembered was sitting at the table with the other losers. After that everything was a blur of motion and a blank. Maybe that had only just happened, maybe it had been days. She couldn’t be sure and it didn’t matter as much as finding her way around the space she’d been dropped in. The terrain, or lack thereof might be a more accurate description, consisted of a completely smooth and even surface below and nothing rising from it on any side.

It induced a certain vertigo in her that only grew with every clumsily placed feeler she put out only to have it find the same smooth, lukewarm floor. As the girl fumbled about in the dark trying to find some aberration in her surroundings she felt vibrations spill out from her pocket. It wasn’t her cell phone she realized when suddenly the darkness was replaced by a brilliant light. Erica slowly removed her cell from her pocket and peered at the radiantly glowing charm affixed to it. The small talisman stood as a constant reminder of her own weakness, the slip of thick paper was the demon ward Hughes had given her when she decided to leave the group. He’d told her that it was his turn to protect her and that the charm would keep her safe.

Erica shook herself from her reminiscence as she recalled another important thing about the cell phone charm she was staring at. It only glowed with energy when evil was active nearby. She quickly whipped around, but found nothing and soon the light was fading. Whatever had stepped into the light barrier was either dead or gone by now. Again she’d be engulfed by the darkness of what she’d by now surmised to be an immense cavern. Instead, however, she was greeted by the weaker, orange tinged light of a setting sun on a far off horizon and the hot breeze of the reddish waste she’d been miraculously deposited on.

“Looks a bit like I’m not in Kansas anymore.” She said to herself with dismay. She was in over her head again and had no idea what to do. So she set off towards a promising little cluster of bumps on the darker edge of the horizon. “Left behind, leave behind.” She muttered to herself as she walked. If there was anything she’d like less than being there alone with herself she couldn’t think of it. Being alone was what she often wanted until she actually managed to get it. Whenever she found herself without distraction, her mind would wander back to the same memories and thoughts that antagonized her daily.

Before she could even start to rinse and repeat she heard a deep rumbling. It reached out to her in a powerful crescendo gaining in clarity as the distance closed. It was an engine, several engines. The girl swung around to see who or what it was that approached. At the center of triple dust clouds shined the dirt encrusted headlights of a team of motorbikes. The three burly men astride their iron steeds were dressed in the tatters of traveling cloaks barely concealing the heavy denim and leather layers beneath.

They’d been at whatever it was they were doing for a while it seemed and they were going to be at it again with Erica if they didn’t change course quickly. Without another moment’s hesitation, she ran. She could feel herself practically lumbering along on her scarred legs trying desperately to dash like she used to. Her knees wanted to buckle and her muscles screamed in protest with even the small task she asked of them and soon she was spent and her efforts had simply thrown her flat on her face. Before she could raise herself again to her feet she’d been surrounded by the men and caged by their bikes.

“End of the line sweetie.” Said one, particularly hairy, man. He clearly wasn’t the leader by the way he carried himself, but he was brash and pungent from where Erica sat all the same. “Now hand it over.”

“What?” She spat as she put her sleeve over her nose to catch the dust and acrid odor flying around her.

“Your chips of course.” He said, drawing unpleasantly near and roughly dragging her only protection from him away from her face with his disgusting meaty hand. She wished she had a knife to jam into his eye and tear out his brains with, but she knew she didn’t and that she couldn’t even if she had. She was too weak to kill a human.

“Don’t have any.” She lied instantly as he struggled back to her feet.

“Don’t lie to me! You’re dead without—“ He was interrupted by the man who did carry himself like the leader. He had a better muscle to fat ratio than either of his colleagues and had the low animal sharpness about him that you’d expect of a man who led a group of unsavory characters such as this.

“Leave her alone. Talking won’t get us anywhere, we should just kill her and search the body.” He said dully as if the whole affair was already beginning to bore him. He was used to this it seemed.

“We could easily sell her, she looks pretty cute.” The final man suggested, his rat-like nose quivering with what Erica desperately hoped was not excitement.

“Why don’t we have a go with her first, see if you’re right?” The smelly man answered as he tightened his grip on Erica’s arm. Suddenly she heard another set of footsteps padding through the dust and grit. A quick glance around revealed an outlandish vehicle parked several dozen feet away from the three men and Erica as well as its driver. A slim young man with a particularly boyish face that peeked out from under an unkempt mop of snow white hair walked towards them, his chest covered with nothing but a bandage sarashi and his shoulders by nothing but a heavy looking black coat with ragged pants to match.

At his belt there was a long thin implement that could only have been a sword. From the wrapping on the handle it had to be a Japanese sword, but towards the meeting of the hilt and blade the piece seemed have strange mechanisms affixed to it as those on the handlebars of motorcycles. Erica was intrigued to say the least as the man approached theatrically, until he spoke, that is.

“That’s no way to be treating a child.” Erica bristled with anger at being referred to as a child, but appreciated that at least someone wasn’t looking to rape and sell her at the same time. This man might not be entirely bad.

“What’re you gonna do about it, little man?” Barked the hairy one. The man with the mechanized katana slumped forwards for a second and held his ribs as if he were laughing. In a blur of motion he’d closed the gap, before anyone’s eyes could even begin to follow after him the foul man fell to his back with his mouth agape. Erica was free and wanted to run, but at the same time she couldn’t help but stay and watch. It had been a long time since she’d felt this kind of mix of fear and awe, not since she’d first met Kira had anyone impressed her so.

“Damn, you still stink even when you’re way down there.” The silver haired man cackled as he kicked dirt over his downed opponent’s face playfully. Without a word, the other two went into action. They drew archaic looking pistols and started howling like wild dogs as they fired on their target. As if the slugs of lead flying past were nothing, the man in the black coat whipped his head around and became a blur once more. Erica tracked his movement this time, barely. He ended up behind the aggressors and as the quicker of the two turned he caught of gut full of steel as the pommel of the sword crashed into his body with enough force to actually lift the looming giant before felling him. The last of the three men standing turned his gun rather than his body to get a shot in, but found the front half of his gun missing along with the skin of his trigger finger and a pure matte black blade hovering inches from his nose.

“You’re... the…” He said, suddenly realizing his situation with the horror of a man who’s seen his own death play out in front of him.

“Black Fang? Yeah. Who else traipses around with long silver hair and a space age samurai sword?” The man with the boyish face chuckled jovially. “I can see you over there!” He shouted in the direction of a far off boulder as he lashed out with his blade. Erica couldn’t see the swing itself but she could see the results. There was a shout from the rock and a geyser of dust connected the point where the man’s blade floated above the ground and the man writhing in pain beside the boulder he’d been perched on with a hunting rifle seconds before. “Traps like that don’t work on me.” He said simply as the groveling forms of the men disappeared from sight, leaving behind nothing but a tribute of several of the very gambling chips they’d been hunting for.

“Who are you?” Erica asked without thinking. She was over her total awe from moments before, but she still could hardly process what had just happened fast enough.

“Black. Fang. You’re not deaf are you?” The man asked curiously.

“I don’t know what that means.” The girl replied, suddenly done with processing and back to her usual, irritable, self.

“It’s been four years already? Time flies.” He laughed again suddenly, more hollowly this time. “I guess this means you’re new and need an introduction to this little world of mine.” He paused to think it almost seemed, but then with a sly smile he launched into a monologue. “You’re in Hell. There are six hundred and sixty six of us down here and every four years we get a new batch to replace the dead. The number of chips at the start was the same as the number of people, but as more people come in, more chips pile up. Chips are important because they’re tied to the devil in charge of the game, the one who keeps you alive in the atmosphere down here. So if you lose all your chips you’re deader than the door nails that didn’t go into making your coffin.

"In addition to the big man downstairs, everyone’s got a personal devil. That’s the guy who gives you your übersteuern, or overdrive. He’s the one who handed you your ticket in and he’s the one who gets to feast on your soul when you die. Overdrive is simple. There is only one weapon in all this little mad world that it’ll work with and you’d better find it fast or else people like me who already have overdrives will kill you and take your chips. Speaking of chips again, the only ways out of here is to deposit your chip back at the entrance at the northernmost part of this Hell after four years without touching any other chips other than your own or you get all of them and deposit them the same way.

"There is only just enough food dropped from that sun over there every day for all of us to live comfortably free of starvation, but it’s dropped at random points so you literally never know where your next meal is coming from. That’s why we started trading chips after a while. Each one is worth a lot because it’s insurance for your life. That’s why it also became so hard to get out for us. They set this place up to be a self sustaining vortex of death and misery. Anyways, I’m going to get every chip and get myself out of this hellhole pretty soon. It’s been four years since I was dropped in here and I’m not gonna miss it. Any questions?”

“That name of yours… what’s it mean?” Erica asked again.

“It means I mastered the overdrive of this sword. Fang is the title given to those who master overdrives that specialize in offense and black is the color associated with the element of my overdrive, called void or negative space. Mastering an overdrive pretty much makes you invincible. I can count the other masters on one hand, so out of the six hundred and sixty six of the people there are only three who can match me.” Explained the man.

“And they are?” Erica pressed with a dull but somewhat irritable tone.

“White Fang, Jade Shell and Azure Wing. Someone had enough free time to get fancy with the nomenclature. Shell is obviously defense based and jade is the color of wind. Wing is movement based and azure is the color of water. White is the color of light and I already told you what a Fang was. Got it?” He finished with a less than enthusiastic flourish of his index finger and a subsequent wave of his hand.

“Alright. So are you gonna kill me and take my chip or threaten to kill me and make me leave it?” Erica asked calmly, almost lethargically actually.

“Neither. A simple ownership contract like this one allows multiple people to own one chip meaning I can share mine with you if you share yours with me. That way when I get out, I can bring everyone else that wants to come with me. That’s the weakness devils always fall for, legal contracts.” He said simply. Erica only just then took note of the timbre of his voice. He was a little high on the register, even for a guy of his slender build. With the clothes Erica had assumed it was a man beneath them but now she was beginning to wonder.

“You mean there are people who want to stay here?” She asked almost unconsciously as she returned to the present matter.

“Yeah, it’s a den of scum and villainy to be sure, but a lot of people who get brought down here love places like that and think it’s best to become king of the hill in a place where you’ve got special powers instead of going back to where you’re a nobody that’ll end up in prison one day, or worse, face down dead in a ditch.” He or she shrugged nonchalantly.

“I guess I understand.” Erica replied slowly, looking carefully at his face to determine if it was a he as she’d thought.

“Good. My name is Kisaragi Kuroko and I’m not a man. I’m an eighteen year old girl and let’s hope no one ever makes me bring up the topic again.” She must have noticed Erica’s look of confusion and curiosity, because it hardly seemed like bringing up the defeated bikers was the real reason.

“Alright.” Erica said, finally taking her eyes back to the dust where they felt comfortable when Erica was speaking.

“Isn’t it customary to give your name in your country too?” Kuroko pouted.

“Erica. You’re Japanese?”

“Living in America three years and ten months longer than expected. Everyone here seems to speak fairly standard English though, so you shouldn’t worry about a language barrier. I guess it being the language of commerce has something to do with it.” She chuckled. “But remember that just ‘cause they speak your language doesn’t mean they’ll be understandable in the least.”

“I know the feeling.” The younger girl sighed.

“Well I’ve lost enough time messing with you and I should go.”

“Take me with you for a bit. I—“

“Umm. No can do, little girl.”

“You’re going to let someone steal your chip after you worked so hard to get it?”

“I’m the executor of the chips in our joint ownership, only I can say who it belongs to, anyone who tries to steal off of you will have it physically, but not under the laws of Hell, I made sure to test it out on some punk who tried to kill me earlier.”

“Thorough aren’t we?”

“Have to be in this hellhole.”

“I’ll fight you for it then. In the nearest town there’s gotta be some weapons I can use right?”

“I hardly think a kid like you—“

“I’ve killed guys scarier than you.” Erica remarked fiercely, she could only pull it off because she knew it at least had the possibility of being true.

“You’re what? Fifteen? Like I’d believe… Oh.” She said as Erica suddenly threw off her sweater and brought the darkened lines of overlapping scars into view.

“You think I got scars like this playing dress up?” Erica balked.

“Have it your way. I’ll fight you once you’ve got a weapon and if you lose you stay here and wait for me to finish this fight myself. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly.” Erica snapped rudely.

“Get on.” The silver haired girl said grumpily after she’d mounted her tech bound steed. There were no wheels or treads so Erica assumed it flew, and she regretted being right for the next twenty heart racing, bug splattering, windswept, white knuckled minutes. She stiffly rose from her seat behind Kuroko and tried to find a way to get her hair and the dust out of her face. She managed to come to some semblance of normal and followed the smirking girl ahead of her into town.

The town actually consisted of little more than a few tents and broken down wooden structures that were probably placed there at the beginning of the game. The general outfitter’s was the place to go for weaponry and such, also probably scattered around this dull desert at the beginning as well. There were mostly guns there. Old guns that couldn’t shoot in a straight line if your life depended on it and could fire five bullets in ten minutes before you’d have to take an extra fifteen to reload. Erica browsed intently as she tried to think her way out of the fight she’d gotten herself into.

It was clear that the Black Fang would either kill her or just leave her and neither of which would really be much help in solving any problems anytime soon. Whatever the problems were. Everything seemed to blur together here if it was defined in any way at all. There was no black and white or clear cut goal. Everything just was how it was and it was a matter of getting out or pitching in. It was like staring down a concrete wall armed with a broken pencil and thinking you’d somehow bring that wall down.

“Guess I’d better start digging.” The brown haired girl thought as she picked out her weapon. She didn’t know much how to fight at all, at least against trained people. Her one real experience with the matter didn’t much lend itself as testimony for a repeat action. She sighed. This time she didn’t even have a distinct and incontrovertible advantage over her opponent. She didn’t have thousands of man hours of work and preparation of the perfect strategy. In the end she only had a set of shiny silvery knives that she didn’t know how to use.

“That, it?” Black asked almost mockingly.

“It’s all I need.” Erica lied with a piercing glare.

“Alright then, I own this town so we’ll just say those are on me, ‘kay shopkeep?” The man nodded nervously and Kuroko answered with a dismissive smile. She really did act like she owned the town.

“Alright, let’s go.” Erica said impatiently, hoping to at least keep up the façade she’d created.

“I won’t use my overdrive in this fight you know.” Her counterpart replied dully.

“Makes no difference to me.” Erica wanted to heave a sigh of relief but overdrive or not she was still twice fucked in a direct confrontation. Either way she drew the two longest blades from her set and held one backhanded as a shield for her arm and the other forward as a safety net for interception. The idea was there even if the skill wasn’t. Erica grit her teeth and wondered what she thought she was doing. Meanwhile, Black wiped her face of all expression and placed her left hand on the hilt of her sword for a same sided draw.

“If you won’t advance I will.” She barreled forwards in a blur again. She was faster than Raven was on his first move, but she wasn’t far enough beyond the human range to win in the first strike. Erica leapt back, instantly wincing at the pain of liftoff and touchdown. She only just barely had to parry the tip of the blade as it approached. The second strike wasn’t quite so forgiving. Erica tried to duck and dodge again, but her legs refused to move and she ended up with just a thin layer of steel keeping her arm attached. But her luck really gave out on the third swing. Before Black could even stop her sword short of her neck Erica dropped to the ground, her legs totally limp and immovable. But still she held her edge towards her opponent as if she meant to keep going. For a few seconds neither said a word. Erica wasn’t sure if she’d won or lost that match until the silver haired girl sighed and offered a hand, saying, “I lose.”

“What?” Erica instantly disagreed, conflict replaced with resolution.

“Come on, I totally dropped my guard when you fell like that and you could’ve gutted me like a sturgeon.” Black admitted candidly.

“You know that’s a lie.” Erica retorted.

“Can’t you take a compliment? If that was for real you’d have killed me. I've never been caught like that even if it wasn't your intention, it'd do the job.” The elder insisted.

“It wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have the guts to do it.” Erica was almost whispering by the end.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t need to.” She sighed.

“You’re still gonna take me along then?” Erica stated more than asked.

“You’re weak, but you managed to catch me off guard somehow and on top of that you won’t openly admit you would kill someone after your life. You don’t belong here.”

“I’ve heard that more than once.” The girl thought spitefully for a moment before replying. “Let’s go then.”

“Hold up a second. Ground rules. I don’t much like dealing much with people, that’s why I’m getting everyone out my way on my own. If you and I are gonna be sticking together, then you and I are gonna need to be able to live with it. So don’t say anything to me unless it’s important, no small talk and no questions about me; don’t go off on your own and cause me trouble, no helping others and even less pissing off others; and finally, do as I say, even if it sounds dumb because I know what I’m talking about and I wouldn’t do anything without a good reason.”

“You talk too much.” Erica scoffed softly as she started her own trek back to the outer limits of the town ahead of the older girl.

-----------

In the coming days Erica saw many things that she didn't really understand. Mostly it just seemed like the famous Black Fang was just a girl with an odd case of paranoia. All of Erica's first week in the underworld was sit around either off to the side or on the back of a flying motorcycle and wait for Black to finish either going around to places she'd already conquered to make sure they were the same or asking for information about places she was about to go to check on. The whole thing seemed a lot less productive than it had originally sounded.

Still, she didn't complain, that would just leave her stranded in one place to wait for all of this to come to an end without getting be near a shred of the action. Something about being relatively safe didn't sit well with the brown haired girl while she mulled it over in her place behind Black in the shabby conference room where the snowy haired girl continued talking to a grimy old man about the fate of her shabby town he was apparently in charge of. Minutes later the conversation was over and Erica had missed every word of it. It became apparent that she should have paid it more mind when the two of them left to go pick up some supplies before leaving.

“Fuck.” She heard Black say audibly. It was the only thing she'd said more or less to her since she made the unfortunate quip about her talking too much.

“Problem?” Erica inquired softly, hoping that she hadn't annoyed her benefactor who'd been gracious enough to let her keep a hold of her own chip until the end.

“There's a gang that I've been avoiding until they've weakened a bit, but they're still coming after me like little bitches. Weren't you listening at all?” Black grumbled.

“Why would you need to avoid anyone? Also, it's usually dead boring what you talk to the townies about so I napped. This place is about rules and contracts? So, sue me.”

Black menaced her counterpart briefly before heaving an aggravated sigh and continuing. “They've got more than seven overdrive users. Even a master like me would lose if she had to fight seven overdrivers all together.”

“Really?” Erica asked, amusedly.

“Well, it's a possibility and that's bad enough for me.” The older girl replied, looking slightly miffed at her partner's amusement.

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“So what's the plan?” Erica continued. It was the first conversation she'd been a part of in days and she was beginning to believe that humans were naturally social animals.

“Avoid them a little longer. I need to deal with something in this town first.” Black flippantly answered.

“Here?”

“Local gang stuff, might have an overdriver as their strongman I hear. I'm the only one who can deal with it and the townspeople can't keep saying no and letting people smash up their shops. If I don't protect them it's gonna come all straight back to me, so it's best to nip this in the bud before anything too serious shows up.”

“Alright, so what am I supposed to do?” Erica asked, with little hope of a satisfactory reply.

“Wait.”

“I'd like not to sound like a child bu--”

“Now. I can't hear.” Black reiterated urgently.

“I'm not gonna sneak up on you like a cat. I prefer a dog fight myself.” The source didn't have to step into view because he had been following them for some time, at a distance. It was only as he came within a dozen feet of them that his footsteps in the sandy earth made himself noticeable.

“Not in the mood.” Black retorted, scowling.

“The sword says you are and I think accouterments speak louder than words.” He grinned, starkly apart from the dreary surroundings he stood, decked in clean, orderly and unblemished clothing. It was especially obvious in his white polo shirt and cap that there was something keeping the brown and grey dust from his body.

“Great to see you're into fashion, golf boy.” Black spat quickly, before placing her hand on her sword.

“Whatever, you've got a weapon and I've got an order, so let's just fight it out like the Devil intended.”

“****.” Her first attacked was blocked, Black's extended hand pushed into thin air as it was subtly guided away from the young man's face by his golf club.

“Come on, draw your damn sword and stop dicking around with me.” He was smiling still but he didn't sound like he was taking it easy anymore. Black scowled even harder before whipping her sword from its resting place and in the same motion slashing at her opponent, who blocked easily as before. The girl came in and slashed at him again and again, only to have her attempts frustrated by the thin shaft of his golf club. “Alright, I take it back. It was better when you weren't serious.”

“Too late.” Black said as she viciously slashed at him again. Like those before it the strike was parried, but it was just a feint to set up for a kick which wasn't blocked. The man dropped to the ground and rolled himself away from his attacker. He looked slightly confused about something, but kept it in and resumed an aggressive position. Black took his challenge and swung at him again, this time she was forced back when he batted what had to have been a golf ball at her. Neither of them stopped for a second and the increasingly intense melee continued. However, it was within moments that the match seemed to be decided; for a sword was meant to be swung from any direction and it showed. The man noticed it too and made an irritated grunt as he tried futilely to create space for himself. Soon he was facing his opponent from the flat of his back with a defeated look on his face. Black watched him warily.

“That sword. It's not metal, is it?” He finally asked her.

“It's not.” The girl finally returned.

“Worst person for me to fight, basically.” He shook his head. “But, I've still got a little more in me.” He suddenly changed his expression and leapt to his feet. “Gear shift, Overdrive.”

“He was hiding something.” Black said as she activated her own overdrive without delay.

“Magnetize.” Black felt her arm jerk back as her sword was pushed away from its intended target. “Repel.” The man said standing his ground as he held the immensely powerful magnet his weapon had become against the recoil force it was receiving. Just as he advanced a step to disarm his opponent she became a blur.

“Not good enough.” Black said as she stepped back and slashed back downwards. “Nothingness can't be magnetized.” And so the God of the Thunderbolt fell. Black stared at him. His wound was clean and straight as the blade that created it. It bled freely, but slowly. The man seemed unconscious for several moments before he spoke.

“Damn, I thought the Black Fang would be older, you know? Sagely even.” He coughed from the ground where he lay once more watching the dust start to besmirch his already torn and bloodstained shirt. “And male.” He added with a laugh.

“You were wrong. Like so many people before you, you were wrong.” Kuroko told him coldly.

“Like so many before me, you spared my life. Am I right?” He smiled in spite of the blood that was slowly migrating from his open chest wound onto the ground around him.
“Not if you don't get that gash stitched up quick.” She corrected him with the same tone. After several moments of silence she turned away from him and he spoke again.

“I was right.”

“If you live or die isn't up to me anymore. You deal with it yourself.” She snorted.

“Won't you feel guilty if I just lie here and die?” He insisted with another cough, his voice beginning weaken.

“Not a bit.” She started walking.

“Then why didn't you just stab my heart out then?”

“Because I didn't have to.” She called back to him.

“If I live, I'll come back again and try to kill you.” His voice was low but the way Black stopped showed that she heard him. “You know that well.”

“I don't. I just know you can't hurt anyone as you are now.” She finally responded before heading back into the building she'd left minutes earlier.

“Lame.” The man said as he let his head finally drop back to the dirt.

“I'll get you to a doctor, even if she won't.” Erica finally said as she started dressing his wounds with strips of his shirt.

“Why's that then?” He asked her bemusedly, after it finally sunk in what she was doing..

“If some stranger hadn't picked me up out of a pool of blood I'd be dead. It's my turn to be the sympathetic stranger.” Erica told him without really meaning to let so much slip.

“You say weird things, but I'm about to owe you my life so let's hope I stay in your good graces.” He smiled. “I'm Kip Wilverton, recently unemployed guy, by the by.”

“Erica.” She said as she tied the last bit of cloth off with enough vigor to make him wince.

“Thanks.”

“Whatever.” Erica said as she lifted his upper body somewhat roughly and started dragging him after the Black Fang, who had by this point left the town hall and entered the next building down without paying the two any more attention than the dust on the wind. So, it wasn't surprising that the older girl didn't show the slightest bit of emotion when Erica brought the man into the general store where she was examining a bottle of what appeared to be liquor. She did however ask what Erica thought she was doing.

“She's saving my life, you said you wouldn't be bothered with it, remember?”

“Yeah, I do remember.” She managed to remark without interrupting her seemingly permanent scowl. She did however turn the the shopkeeper and address him with a question that neither Kip nor Erica had expected. “Russ, you were a doctor, right?”

“Get him out of here. He's one of those--” Replied the old man behind the counter gruffly.

“Former.” He pointed out pleasantly.

“Shut it. It shouldn't matter, I can't just watch him bleed to death.” Erica finally burst in.

“Look the other way.” Russel stated blankly.

“Russ, he's not gonna harm you guys anymore than a fly now, you know.” Kuroko murmured. “At least not right away. What he did wasn't any worse than anything we've done.”

“Doesn't mean that I need to encourage it.”

“If you're not going to try to help him then I'll do it myself.” Erica insisted determinedly. “Got any alcohol and thread to spare?”

“I do.” The shopkeeper tossed both over to her without taking his eyes off the Black Fang, whose expression still hadn't changed.

“I don't think you should start at your age, Erica.” Kip said as she uncapped the bottle and pulled out a handkerchief.

“I'm using it to disinfect the wound *******.”

“Does this really do anything for you?” Black asked as she watched Erica rolling up her sleeves and preparing for her impromptu surgery on the slightly uncooperative patient.

“She said she'll do it, so she'll do it.” Russel finally turned and entered the back room, leaving the three alone.

“He's right, I don't need anymore help with this.” Erica pointed out as she started cleaning the wound with some spare cloth from his shirt and her handkerchief.

“Ow. That kinda hurts.” The young man managed to remark through his grit teeth.

“Deal with it.” Erica said as she passed over the wound with a length of cloth soaked in the clear spirits. Next she splashed some over her hands and took a pin from her hair to thread. Both went straight into the alcohol and from there into the area around the wound. It was a clean and relatively shallow cut, given how he got it. It severed flesh but spared bone. With the precision of a trained medic the wound steadily closed and in it's place appeared a neat little seam in his flesh.

“Where'd you learn to stitch like that?” He admired between winces.

“Hospital, got some EMT training and the like while listening to how much work they had to do to bring me back to the hospital alive. I couldn't walk, so they figured I should be doing something to keep my mind off it, I guess.” She said as she completed her task and washed it down with alcohol again before beginning to re-bandage the sewn up flesh.

“Amazing, I'll be up and--” Kip made to stand up only to be held down by a pink sleeved arm.

“Sit. You'll pull your stitches if you move already. Those are makeshift and barely holding as it is so you'd better be careful. No sudden movements, no running, no activity more strenuous than scratching your nose. You'd do best to let me clean the wound every few hours and give you a fresh set of bandages.”

“Okay, I get it doc.” He joked. “I'll be good, I promise.” Erica didn't laugh along with him and smacked him in the head as hard as she dared.

“Take this seriously, it wasn't that bad this time but if you hadn't bled to death from that you could very well have died from some painful, flesh rotting infection.” She said irritably.

“You really did spend a lot of time in hospital, didn't you?”

“Yeah.” She replied with a sigh.

Crit/review if you want, I'll appreciate it.

Note:
Like whoa, it's been one year since I started this reboot and I'm finally starting Chapter 2. The installment feels a little short, like it's been cut off suddenly. I'm gonna deal with it later. I will be continuing this with less than 7 months between this and the next update possibly. I know(think?) only one person is actually reading so I'm doing this more out of habit than anything else.

I didn't get to watch it at the time. I don't think it'll be good, but I think I'm going to watch it at some point anyways.

Sometimes it takes more than a few days for RvR to notice or actually complete some requests. I'd suggest that you head back over and give it a try later with more realistic expectations if this thread doesn't get you what you want.

Saving is for casual.

No one ever calls the police about rape.

And I absolutely lover her when she smiles cries.