Makoto Neo
Apr 8th, 2003, 04:14:04 PM
The night was like a cold day in hell that wrapped around the heaven’s eye like an omnipresent cloth, the clouds blocking out the single golden tendrils of light from the distant start. The snow poured down on the streets, the buildings, and speeders relentlessly forcing the smart people into the warm shacks and apartments which they bred in.
Those who did trudge through the white cotton did so covered in furs, coats, blankets or whatever could keep enough warmth in to do good and traveled briskly if not flat out running. One guy, discerned by his broad shoulders and muscular look, trudged on with an air of dignity… or pain.
It was a cold day in hell, indeed. Makoto had his own agenda, the previous stop turned worse for the head of a genetics facility on the eastern side of town, as he moved through devilishly. Mist flirted out from the covers he wore mostly protection against the biting cold inducing frostbite on open wounds as he breathed.
Neo had left all the used weaponry behind, giving the tools a rested burial to ascend to whatever heaven rested above the blank, rotten, sky. The guard’s also lay buried, shell casings littering the floor like a glimmering scorched carpet around them, they had backed a wolf into a corner and expected a calm victory. But when your back is to a corner, desperation kicks in and you go down firing.
But in his case, the security went down in fire. Finally, once he had reached the penthouse, he could hear Punchinello on the phone, begging for help. He should’ve been saying his good byes. Quick take out, snuffed the candle in one bullet, revenge was harsh.
A stream of blood, small and feeble, dripped from Mako’s covered hand. A red trail with breaks and jumps dotted behind him like life, following your every action until the day your time came around. Neo didn’t know what to do now; his arm still ached from the battle months ago in a deathly silent prison. Pierced through metal armor to the bone, his opponent’s sword did, but Neo had paid the dog man back, a wound no blade could do.
But that was in the past, dead and buried with everything else second by second. Some stray mutt followed Mako’s path of ruby, licking the life essence off the frozen water with vigor as it chased forth. Froth steamed at its jaws, obvious hints to a disease, and its dark eyes glimmered with a killer’s scheme. It hunted a prey that smelled like itself, but different - all it could focus on was the taste, the feel, the scent… of fresh blood…- and the target strolled ahead.
A low growl escaped the dog’s throat and it dashed forward, paws spread to catch the most it could before lifting away. Within a matter of heartbeats the dog had closed in enough distance to leap into the air…
Fwwwisssing…
… And fell to the earth, sliced cleanly in half. An etched, blue blade sung in the air for a moment, dripping blood, before disappearing into the folds of fur and cloth and traveling away as the canine’s internal organs slipped into the night and steamed with contact to the frozen ground. One eye focused on Neo for the last breath, a slow and choked gasp, before losing focus and sliding into the darkness beyond the holy grave.
Neo heard muttering under the deathly roar of wind. He lifted his head into the furious air and located an all night tavern cut into the metalwork of a corporate building like a small tick on a huge canine... bad reference.
Just the thought made Neo's ear start to twitch as he strolled into the tavern casually. He caught the glances of some, a pickpocket here, cutthroat there, a young barmaid in a tight short skirt and heavy blazer delivering a plate of bronze fluid to cutthroat number one, the bartender wiping a glass clean with a dirty rag.
Neo scoffed silently, taking off the layers of fur jackets and throwing them onto an empty booth. Underneath all the coverings, He wore a black, leather duster with a black shawl wove around his neck, and white tank undershirt and black denim jeans with faded knees topped off with black boots. Neo rubbed his shoulder cautiously, a soft burlap bandage wrapped still where, he later researched, the dog-man Inu-Aku.
"Wha ya havin, Misa?"
Hm? Neo looked behind him at the barmaid. She had lovely blue eyes complimented with brown rooted blonde hair and a nice smile, wonder came why she worked here rather than some other place out in the corporate sector. Her bad accent announced her boonies heritage or something to that manner.
"Sur?"
Neo's bubble popped. "A bottle of JD, a clean glass, and ice, in that order," He whispered loudly, coughing into a clenched fist. The barmaid rushed away to get the order as Neo turned his back and continued to pamper his wounded shoulder, a small grin on his face. The couple sitting in the booth adjacent to his commented on his wolfish look, the one facing toward Neo narrowed his eyes slightly.
Neo popped a grin, twirling his index finger slightly. The plate of gravy sitting on the table flipped up and smacked right into Glarey's face, smothering him in gray soup and white potatoes. His partner laughed aloud, collapsing to the table. Glarey pulled the plate off and slammed it down onto the tabletop.
He jumped to his feet and stomped in Neo's direction and held one messy fist up, 'Getting into Neo's Face'. "I saw that! Your one of them frelling Jed--"
He was cut off by Neo's massive hand wrapped around his thin neck. "Your one hair from hillbilly heaven, Pal. Don't you ever say Jedi in reference to me." Neo threw him back, sending Glarey through a few tables, beer mugs, and steaming food right out the front door. He saw the instant aggression in the other patrons, about four dozen meaty individuals with blasters strapped to their legs, and Neo's hand went to his saber reflexively.
He heard a blaster scraping against a metal sheath as it was drawn, a hissing grated sound. Before Neo knew it he had drawn his ruby saber and deflected a blue blaster bolt up into the roof, another shot and Neo spun in defense.
Before he knew it, the whole bar had exploded into gunfire and Neo was hot on his toes deflecting bolts right and left. After a few nanoseconds, He was forced to draw his second ivory saber, in respect of his Instructor, to keep from being blown to bits. There was a awkward silence with only Neo's humming sabers and debris falling to the floor, he breathed heavily for a moment then moved into a relaxed stance.
"My turn yet?" Neo chortled, tilting his neck back and forth cracking his neck loudly, "Let’s play!"
Neo rushed to the left, cutting down the closest with one swipe. Blood shot into the air and misted down, sizzling against the white saber as Neo let the body drop to the floor for the drama. One kill was all the incentive that the rest needed, those who didn't try to reload their blasters quickly with shaking hands as Neo stood back straight.
The barmaid who was suppose to deliver Neo's drink bravely, and quite afraid to the point that she soiled herself later when the Sith had left, stepped forth and held out the platter with the bottle of alcohol, martini glass filled with ice, and a folded napkin toward Neo. "S--urr.. yuh...your drink... Sur."
Neo clicked his sabers off, shooting glares at the remaining people with quivering weapons pointed at him and pulled the glass and bottle off the tray casually, as if nothing at all had happened in the past minutes. Pouring himself a drink, Neo tilted his head back and drew straight from the bottle as the full glass rested in his free hand.
Someone pulled his or her trigger. The red bolt sliced through the air and severed the lower half of the bottle into a blaze of shards. The liquid splashed down onto Neo's injured shoulder and shirt as he lowered the bottle with anger raging in his eyes, the barmaid teetered backwards and fell to her rump as Neo dropped the bottles remains and the glass at the same time.
The shooter whimpered, blaster in his hands quivering greatly. Neo turned his head jaggedly toward him, his eyes narrowing down to slits as the saber jumped to life once more. Screams erupted as he slaughtered the remaining shooters plus the bartender who reached for a repeater under the bar. The barmaid, though, managed to hide under one of the intact booth tables as Neo sishkabobed the last.
"BASTARDS!" He roared, kicking a severed head through the glass window of the bar and out into the snow. By now, a crowd had gathered and peered in with curiosity only to backpedal in fear and surprise at the massacre. Neo clicked his sabers dead and clipped them to his belt before grabbing one of the still intact jackets and moving out of the bar. Outside, a pair of police fell to his blade too, tallying a total of thirty-nine slain.
Those who did trudge through the white cotton did so covered in furs, coats, blankets or whatever could keep enough warmth in to do good and traveled briskly if not flat out running. One guy, discerned by his broad shoulders and muscular look, trudged on with an air of dignity… or pain.
It was a cold day in hell, indeed. Makoto had his own agenda, the previous stop turned worse for the head of a genetics facility on the eastern side of town, as he moved through devilishly. Mist flirted out from the covers he wore mostly protection against the biting cold inducing frostbite on open wounds as he breathed.
Neo had left all the used weaponry behind, giving the tools a rested burial to ascend to whatever heaven rested above the blank, rotten, sky. The guard’s also lay buried, shell casings littering the floor like a glimmering scorched carpet around them, they had backed a wolf into a corner and expected a calm victory. But when your back is to a corner, desperation kicks in and you go down firing.
But in his case, the security went down in fire. Finally, once he had reached the penthouse, he could hear Punchinello on the phone, begging for help. He should’ve been saying his good byes. Quick take out, snuffed the candle in one bullet, revenge was harsh.
A stream of blood, small and feeble, dripped from Mako’s covered hand. A red trail with breaks and jumps dotted behind him like life, following your every action until the day your time came around. Neo didn’t know what to do now; his arm still ached from the battle months ago in a deathly silent prison. Pierced through metal armor to the bone, his opponent’s sword did, but Neo had paid the dog man back, a wound no blade could do.
But that was in the past, dead and buried with everything else second by second. Some stray mutt followed Mako’s path of ruby, licking the life essence off the frozen water with vigor as it chased forth. Froth steamed at its jaws, obvious hints to a disease, and its dark eyes glimmered with a killer’s scheme. It hunted a prey that smelled like itself, but different - all it could focus on was the taste, the feel, the scent… of fresh blood…- and the target strolled ahead.
A low growl escaped the dog’s throat and it dashed forward, paws spread to catch the most it could before lifting away. Within a matter of heartbeats the dog had closed in enough distance to leap into the air…
Fwwwisssing…
… And fell to the earth, sliced cleanly in half. An etched, blue blade sung in the air for a moment, dripping blood, before disappearing into the folds of fur and cloth and traveling away as the canine’s internal organs slipped into the night and steamed with contact to the frozen ground. One eye focused on Neo for the last breath, a slow and choked gasp, before losing focus and sliding into the darkness beyond the holy grave.
Neo heard muttering under the deathly roar of wind. He lifted his head into the furious air and located an all night tavern cut into the metalwork of a corporate building like a small tick on a huge canine... bad reference.
Just the thought made Neo's ear start to twitch as he strolled into the tavern casually. He caught the glances of some, a pickpocket here, cutthroat there, a young barmaid in a tight short skirt and heavy blazer delivering a plate of bronze fluid to cutthroat number one, the bartender wiping a glass clean with a dirty rag.
Neo scoffed silently, taking off the layers of fur jackets and throwing them onto an empty booth. Underneath all the coverings, He wore a black, leather duster with a black shawl wove around his neck, and white tank undershirt and black denim jeans with faded knees topped off with black boots. Neo rubbed his shoulder cautiously, a soft burlap bandage wrapped still where, he later researched, the dog-man Inu-Aku.
"Wha ya havin, Misa?"
Hm? Neo looked behind him at the barmaid. She had lovely blue eyes complimented with brown rooted blonde hair and a nice smile, wonder came why she worked here rather than some other place out in the corporate sector. Her bad accent announced her boonies heritage or something to that manner.
"Sur?"
Neo's bubble popped. "A bottle of JD, a clean glass, and ice, in that order," He whispered loudly, coughing into a clenched fist. The barmaid rushed away to get the order as Neo turned his back and continued to pamper his wounded shoulder, a small grin on his face. The couple sitting in the booth adjacent to his commented on his wolfish look, the one facing toward Neo narrowed his eyes slightly.
Neo popped a grin, twirling his index finger slightly. The plate of gravy sitting on the table flipped up and smacked right into Glarey's face, smothering him in gray soup and white potatoes. His partner laughed aloud, collapsing to the table. Glarey pulled the plate off and slammed it down onto the tabletop.
He jumped to his feet and stomped in Neo's direction and held one messy fist up, 'Getting into Neo's Face'. "I saw that! Your one of them frelling Jed--"
He was cut off by Neo's massive hand wrapped around his thin neck. "Your one hair from hillbilly heaven, Pal. Don't you ever say Jedi in reference to me." Neo threw him back, sending Glarey through a few tables, beer mugs, and steaming food right out the front door. He saw the instant aggression in the other patrons, about four dozen meaty individuals with blasters strapped to their legs, and Neo's hand went to his saber reflexively.
He heard a blaster scraping against a metal sheath as it was drawn, a hissing grated sound. Before Neo knew it he had drawn his ruby saber and deflected a blue blaster bolt up into the roof, another shot and Neo spun in defense.
Before he knew it, the whole bar had exploded into gunfire and Neo was hot on his toes deflecting bolts right and left. After a few nanoseconds, He was forced to draw his second ivory saber, in respect of his Instructor, to keep from being blown to bits. There was a awkward silence with only Neo's humming sabers and debris falling to the floor, he breathed heavily for a moment then moved into a relaxed stance.
"My turn yet?" Neo chortled, tilting his neck back and forth cracking his neck loudly, "Let’s play!"
Neo rushed to the left, cutting down the closest with one swipe. Blood shot into the air and misted down, sizzling against the white saber as Neo let the body drop to the floor for the drama. One kill was all the incentive that the rest needed, those who didn't try to reload their blasters quickly with shaking hands as Neo stood back straight.
The barmaid who was suppose to deliver Neo's drink bravely, and quite afraid to the point that she soiled herself later when the Sith had left, stepped forth and held out the platter with the bottle of alcohol, martini glass filled with ice, and a folded napkin toward Neo. "S--urr.. yuh...your drink... Sur."
Neo clicked his sabers off, shooting glares at the remaining people with quivering weapons pointed at him and pulled the glass and bottle off the tray casually, as if nothing at all had happened in the past minutes. Pouring himself a drink, Neo tilted his head back and drew straight from the bottle as the full glass rested in his free hand.
Someone pulled his or her trigger. The red bolt sliced through the air and severed the lower half of the bottle into a blaze of shards. The liquid splashed down onto Neo's injured shoulder and shirt as he lowered the bottle with anger raging in his eyes, the barmaid teetered backwards and fell to her rump as Neo dropped the bottles remains and the glass at the same time.
The shooter whimpered, blaster in his hands quivering greatly. Neo turned his head jaggedly toward him, his eyes narrowing down to slits as the saber jumped to life once more. Screams erupted as he slaughtered the remaining shooters plus the bartender who reached for a repeater under the bar. The barmaid, though, managed to hide under one of the intact booth tables as Neo sishkabobed the last.
"BASTARDS!" He roared, kicking a severed head through the glass window of the bar and out into the snow. By now, a crowd had gathered and peered in with curiosity only to backpedal in fear and surprise at the massacre. Neo clicked his sabers dead and clipped them to his belt before grabbing one of the still intact jackets and moving out of the bar. Outside, a pair of police fell to his blade too, tallying a total of thirty-nine slain.