[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjExNi4zMDQ2MDEuU205dVlYTWdUR0Z1WjJWeS4wAA,,/ferrum.extra-condensed.png[/img]
[h1][color=fff200]=Rio De Janeiro, 1:13 A.M.=[/color][/h1]

[color=598527]"... also, be sure to avoid physical activity for at least four days to at least a week! And be sure to adhere to the prescription!"[/color] The man with piercings on his face nodded back at the doctor as they both exchanged friendly waves to each other. Standing by the doorway, Jonas kept up an affable smile as the trio of people eventually took a right out of the alleyway, vanishing from sight. His smile quickly faded as did his posture, dropping back onto the decaying brick wall.

Sputtering a few tired curses, the Doc's arm plunged directly onto his face, massaging it as he let out a small sigh as he stared at the check written to him. [color=598527]"Looks like I'll be more than good for a couple of days,"[/color] he mumbled, taking one last glance at the dank alleyway. Stereotypical hive of all scum, save for a few poor, tortured souls... riveting.

Leaving the pungent setting of the despondent row, Jonas went back into the apartment, being greeted by a toothless grin of a much older looking man in his seventies. He was short in stature and had beady eyes you would find on a cheap, hand sewn doll. The shirt was striped up and down with a white and blue design, his gut protruding from the shirt, almost exposing midriff.

"We-eh-hell!" Semwon up late," letting out a chuckle as he weakly gripped a clear bottle filled about half of the way, label reading Cachaça. Jonas just returned with a dead glare and an unamused frown as he tipped his head back and forth one time. Now staring at the floor, he slouched over as he proceeded forwards and up a few steps before he felt someone tugging on his coat.

Steadily rolling his head to the side, he came into contact with the nose of the bottle shoved right at his nose. He blinked for a few moments before staring at the smaller man who uttered a singular "here."

[color=598527]"Sure ya don't wanna finish that bud'?"[/color] He put his finger on the neck and pushed it back and forth, making it bob like a buoy. He shook his head and smiled. "Relax."

Jonas nodded his head and uttered a [color=598527]"thank you"[/color] to the man as he gently procured the nearly finished bottle. Ascending up the stairs, he stopped for a moment once on top of the platform and turned his head back. Nothing, save for a muted closure of a door. Bringing the bottle up to his face, he stared at the contents within before continuing his ascent.

[color=598527]"Maybe I should try an' make cocktails tomorrow."[/color]
[hr]
[h1][color=fff200]=Rio De Janeiro, 1:46 A.M.=[/color][/h1]
Leaning back in a wooden chair, Jonas waved back and forth as he stared at a couple of documents in the dimly lit room. Suddenly tilting back a little too far, it appeared that the chair was about to capsize and the captain was going out with it...

... or not. Jonas swiftly launched himself up from the now descending seat, continuing to look at the documents as it landed with a half-hearted clunk. Pursing his lips, he let out a silent breath of air as he shook his head, frowning as he set them next to the bottle, the inside being about half-way to the bottom. Staring at the glassware by his desk, he took one last swig, eliminating the minuscule amounts of spirit left.

[color=598527]"Ah hell, I've been up for too long reminiscing about this all,"[/color] he spoke to no one in particular as he gingerly placed the glass onto the table. Grasping the chair and spinning it back onto its four feet, he proceeded to grab said papers and set them into his satchel.

[color=598527]"The old man's nice, but I wonder if I could of gotten a better view if I took one of the other places..."[/color] Looking up at the ceiling, he chuckled, shaking his head and swatting away an imaginary fly. [color=598527]"Nice, but conspicuous..."[/color]

Stretching for a few seconds, he turned on the moldy tv in his room; couldn't be more thankful the prior renter of this place left without taking the rest of his stuff. May not be cozy, but some of the vanities were nice. Flipping between channels that were all in Brazilian language, he settled on a random one which he was certain a repeat of a show.

Throwing his coat haphazardly onto the chair, he heard the clamoring of knives making contact with each other as he lie on the bed.

Before Jonas could nod off, there was a rough banging on the door, which he stared at blankly. Rolling onto his side, the knocking became more furious. Groaning, he put his arms across his eyes. [color=598527]"Yeah yeah, hold on, hold on, give me a sec'."[/color] Rolling off onto the floor with a thunk, he took in a deep breath before unhurriedly getting to his feet. Cracking his neck, he snagged his coat and grabbed the bottle.

[color=598527]"If you're lookin' for a check-up, sorry, but I'm done for th' night."[/color] Shuffling to the floor, he slowly opened it up... only for it to be forced open by a bunch of hooligans eying the doctor, their gazes shifting throughout the room.

Backing up, the men entered the room with a certain swagger, brandishing their weapons of choice. One decided to toy with the decaying wall, cutting off a small piece with their machete. The other posed like they were gods gift to baseball, tapping the floor with their bat like a base before swinging at the wall... and stopping right before impact. The final one at the center was pointing his freshly bloodied pipe at Jonas face, giving him a cliche smirk that made his eyes roll. There was one factor that made them unified - their tattoos.

"Sorry 'Doc,' but we ain't here for a check-up, but we are searchin' for a cure and we are certain [i]you[/i] have it."

Clenching the neck of his Cachaça bottle, one of the men grinned cockily at Jonas.

"Ya sure it's 'im? He don look like much; bet a little poke," the he closed one of his eyes and thrusted his baseball bat back and forth like a billiard, "an' he'll be out!"

"Oy, oy, we ain't suppos'd to damage tha' merchandise!"

Jonas glowered at the trio as he put one foot behind him. [color=598527]"Merchandise? I'm sorry, but you may have the wr-"[/color]

"Don't try an' weasel yer way out of this, we know yoor Joseph Langer!"

"Uh, dude," the man with the machete piped up. "It's Jonas Langer." Looking back at his comrade, the man with the pipe shrugged and looked back at the doctor who seemed unhinged and unbalanced like a wild animal.

"Ey', look, he's scared! Bet he's gonna try an' pull some shit, so letsgetumnownownow!" The man with the baseball bat swiftly rushed forward, their baseball bat flying to the side as Jonas quickly ducked underneath and retaliated with a Cachaça uppercut. Glass shattered around the room, along with splashes of the drink that drenched the victims body, but the pants of everyone else in the vicinity.

The man stumbled before falling straight on his back, not budging at all.

[color=598527]"Damn, what a waste o-"[/color]

The middle man let out a battle cry as his other conscious partner belched a swathe of jeers at Jonas, both rushing forward to get a hit. "Fuck it, knock th' fuckboy out an-"

Pivoting around the mans strike downwards, he quickly shoved the bottle into the back of his neck. There were screeches of pain as crimson glinted on the bottle. Jonas anticipated the machete slash and quickly parried with a drawn knife from his cuffs, much to the befuddlement of the man.

Jonas heard the man behind him roar and predicted how and where he might swing. Instead of fighting against the man, he eased up, causing him to "overpower" Jonas... and promptly get their head smashed in.

As the goon dropped the machete, Jonas made quick work of his surroundings and procured the falling blade. Before the final gang member could recover, Jonas made sure to pin his arm to the wall with a ki powered stab to his wrist. The man was in a state of shock, and tugged at the bloody hand... before having a leaky feeling... in his abdomen. Crumbling to the ground, Jonas let out a huff, making sure no parts of his coat were bloodied.

[color=598527]"... of a good spirit; was gonna make a cocktail out of it..."[/color] Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, he began digging into the pockets of the men he fought against and garnered his payment. Shoving the cash into his wallet, he looked about the two bodies that were most likely dead and the unconscious man.

[color=598527]"Jesus, how the hell am I gonna explain this?"[/color]

"Brotha', you won't hafta'."

Twirling around and pointing his knife at whoever just spoke, he grimaced as a new set of goons with similar tattoos and uniform appeared at his doorway. The man in the middle stuck up a hand and kept his cool.

"Now hold on, I know watcha' might be thinkin'... but unlike these fools whose asses you turnt' ta molasses, I'll give ya a chance t' come with us, no conflict at all." Jonas stared at his supposedly affable smile, continuing to stay defensive as he pushed his foot back once again.

"Look... we have your pasty ass out numba'd... look outside the escape ladda' brotha'."

Cautiously backing up towards the window, Jonas kept his eye on the five people occupying the doorway and yanked the covers open... only to see the route being blocked by two other goons, who just stared at him, stared at the men and women occupying his doorway before going back to chatting.

[i][color=598527]"Ah dang..."[/color][/i] Jonas slowly closed the windows covers as their supposed leader kept jabbering on about how it was no use to escape. [color=598527][i]"I'm not going to get any sleep with these imbeciles around..."[/i][/color]

"... and that is why ih'm givin' you the offa' of packin' your stuff up and comin' with us, [i]quietly[/i]. So, what will it be brotha'? You-"

[color=598527][i]"Hopefully the tournament just goes on for a couple of hours, then I can get some shut eye."[/i][/color] Jonas looked down at the ground, seemingly space out for a moment as he continued to hear the alpha wolf out.

"... an' we give ya enough time to grab all your stuff! Which will it be?"

Looking up to meet the eyes of the man with a shit eating grin. Letting out a defeated sigh, he threw his knife to the table. [color=598527]"Fine; give me a few minutes to pack up in private."[/color]

Nudging one of his friends, the middle man began bragging about how he knew diplomacy would win out before stationing three men outside of the door while he and the other disappeared down stairs. Slowly closing the door, one of them gave one last grunt to Jonas.

"We'll b'waitin'."
[hr]
[h1][color=fff200]=Rio De Janeiro, 2:02 A.M.=[/color][/h1]
"How long until this prick gets outta this shithouse? This stuff is makin' me uneasy."

The woman shrugged, before staring at the smudged graffiti on the wall below them.

"I dunno, but they'll contact ya through the talkie... what, y'fraid of heights?" She smirked and began nudging her ally, who pushed the elbow aside. "Screw you," he chuckled back.

"How about l-"

Before she could finish, the walkie talkie bursted with static, a voice emanating from the device.

"Oy, you can stop guardin' the emergency ex't, the target is bein' escorted outta the building right now! Y'kin come down now." There was some remaining static before it completely cut out. The man gave a huff, before looking at the darkened room.

"Thank god... now let's get..." He was the first to scramble down the ladder quickly as his female compatriot stifled a giggle as she followed after the shifting man who was making strides to get down the unstable equipment. At the bottom, the man in white was absorbed into the crowd of people, taking looks around as he remained silent. There was chattering amongst the large crowd that was packed into the alleyway.

The horde piled onto the streets, their myriads of cars in full view. The whole slew of them prodded the doctor with insults and slurs, but he wouldn't even budge a centimeter. He just blindly went where they ordered him to go. After a few minutes, they came to a halt.

Not bothering to look around, the doctor stood completely still as the gang members the same man got on top of the car and pointed at him. "Now!"

In an instant, the men and women surrounding him went into a frenzy, bashing parts of his body and punching it, making sure he would be out like a candle. Even then, he didn't scream, shout, yelp, not even let out a whimper of a sound... the doctor just... took it... until.

"AH FUCK, WHAT WAS THAT FOR ASSHOLE!"

Infighting. Shouting. Confusion. The once unified whole began getting angry at each other and began chastising each other for hitting their gut, punching their face, and a whole slew of angry insults. It was almost impossible to keep a part of the crowd from getting riled up... and from the rooftop of another building, Jonas smiled at the beautiful noise.

[color=598527]"Hehehe, idiots."[/color] Clasping his hands together and stretching them upwards, Jonas managed to stifle a yawn before walking slowly to the other uneven rooftops. He began at a leisurely pace before going onto a full blown sprint, hopping, jumping, and climbing. It wasn't going to be long until they checked his room, so he did his best to put as much distance between him and the gang members.

[color=598527]"The [color=598527]O Massacre de soldados[/color], eh,"[/color] he mumbled to himself as he rolled due to a rough landing, [color=598527]"they seem a little... underwhelming."[/color] Jonas shook his head as he peeked behind him, barely seeing the tiny heads move in a formation back into the alleyway.

Utilizing the nearest fire escape, he swiftly descended the slew of steps, each sound making a creak with each passing second.
[hr]
[h1][color=fff200]=Rio De Janeiro, 2:09 A.M.=[/color][/h1]

The lone doctor in a white coat rushed through the streets, still continuing to make sure to avoid his pursuers. He was frankly certain they weren't too amused by the note pinned to the wall by his former occupied room and couldn't help but be a bit amused. Jonas could only imagine how their resting bitch faces looked after they read that piece of paper.

[hider=The Note]Next time, give me a challenge; I don't like lowering my standards.

P.S. I charge extra for beatings... since your friends didn't have enough money, I'll just put it on your guys tab."[/hider]

As Jonas dashed through the streets, brushing by locals and foreigners alike, a few thoughts lingered in his mind... mainly where he would lay low for a bit until the tournament started. He was plenty sure they weren't going to be lusting for money no longer.[/center]