[color=slategray]Tyres briefly lurch to a halt as a handbrake is ratcheted on. Well worn knuckles rap against a solid apartment door. [color=white]"Oh... Are you the one here to fix our toilet..?"[/color] [hr] [CENTER][sup][h1][center][img]Banner[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] F L O W S T A T E[/color] [color=tomato]F L O W S T A T E[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/center] [hr] Qing Yuan is escorted through the apartment to the problematic facilities. It's a two bedroom apartment, but little more. Combined laundry and bathroom. The kitchenette only has one sink. And as his tools are put down to get a better look at the offending commode, it's next to a joint bath/shower with browning drain, and horrible curtain. From elsewhere outside of the bathroom the television is blaring. [color=white]"So it's--"[/color] [color=tomato]"Not flushing properly, and flooded onto your floor. Yeah, I see that. I've got an auger in the van too, but hopefully we won't need that."[/color] The resident stands in the doorway behinds the work pensively. She's rubbing her arms standing awkwardly. The waterflow is killed with the tap behind the bowl. Hit the flush and... nope. [color=tomato]"Do you have a bucket? Even... a big bowl?"[/color] The resident disappears for a moment, leaving space for the tension to breathe. I spot something on the bathroom countertop next to the toilet and air freshener and things start to make more sense. A sigh of disappointed recognition leaves me. A familiar voice comes from the television, and I make my way out, still waiting on the resident's return. They're interviewing public figures who made an appearance at the memorial of one of those heroes who just passed. The Mountain. The well coiffed hair of Sterling Silver adorns the screen. [color=silver]"He was... well, as his name described, a mountain of a figure. Strong and unyielding. A majestic, high-symbol for all to see, and now we who remain have the difficult question of 'where do we go from here?', 'what can we as people do for our fellow man to raise us up in the shadow of what has just been taken from us?'..."[/color] Silver was a real estate mogul. He'd built major developments in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles. Then, for some reason, he set his sights on Calder. [color=silver]"...well, something tells me the people of Hudson, are going to be very pleased in the coming days, at an answer we have for them."[/color] The resident handed him a big salad bowl. A deep furrow had creased Qing Yuan's brow related to what he was watching. No. Not the tactlessness of Silver in using this somber moment of a public memorial to spotlight himself and his plans. The man was known to be a self-aggrandizing textbook narcissist. That was the least surprising thing that just took place. He just couldnt put his finger on it. He took the bowl back to the toilet and began to bail out the water in the toilet bowl into the bathtub. [i]The description of the Mountain?[/i] Water drained. [i]No... sounded scripted. The 'questions'?[/i] More water drained down the bath. [i]No. More rhetoric.[/i] Enough water this time that the bathtub gurgled. [i]"...well something tells me the people of Hudson..."[/i] He put the bowl down and grabbed the plunger. [i]That was it... He'd never actually heard the man refer to the place as Hudson. He'd use the name Calder, but never Hudson. He'd always use an old term for it...[/i] He began forceful use of the plunger, as the mogul's past words rang back in his ears. [i][color=silver]"...the Devil's Playground..."[/color][/i] [right][i][color=silver]"...well, what more could you expect from the Devil's Playground."[/color][/i][/right] [center][i][color=silver]"...I suppose that's what people have come to expect from the place that was once known as the Devil's Playground..."[/color][/i][/center] It had stood out, because it always stuck in his father's craw. The old man hated to hear anything negative said about his new home. And Silver had a tendency to never do anything but. So what cha-- [color=white]"Has he tried to buy you too?"[/color] [color=tomato]"Hmm..?"[/color] The resident was back behind him in the doorway, arms crossed, probably from a combination of the cold and not knowing what to do with her hands with the stranger in her home. [color=white]"Silver. I have friends who live in Hudson too. He tried to buy their place, they didn't sell, but a bunch of their neighbours did. Kids had just started school and they'd put too much work in trying to find the perfect place to get them zoned for it. I was just thinking... since you're out of Hudson too. Maybe he'd tried--"[/color] That'd make sense. Making moves to buy up swathes of land for a big development... and now he's probably bought enough it was time to stop talking down the area's reputation. Incredibly transparent when you had enough of the pieces to make the picture. [color=tomato]"No. But we wouldn't be in a hurry to move anyway."[/color] [color=white]"You might be too far away anyway. My friends, they're west of Brubaker, and further south than your shop."[/color] [color=tomato]"Could be that too."[/color] He pulled the plunger clear and the water drained. [color=white]"Oh! You've fixed it!"[/color] [color=tomato]"Uh! I've unclogged it enough that the water's draining."[/color] Qing Yuan said, with a 'not-so-fast-there' tone. He waited until the basin was drained and then set to work undoing the PVC piping behind the bowl. [color=tomato]"You can't flush these."[/color] He said, jerking a thumb to a packet of wet wipes that were sitting on the bathroom countertop. [color=white]"Uhh... It says they're flushable."[/color] She replied. [color=tomato]"It does. But you shouldn't. All they have to do is demonstrate that a clean wet wipe will flush down a clean toiletbowl without adverse effect. But they're denser that toilet paper. They don't break down, and the fibres, they get caught on..."[/color] Qing Yuan looked down the S-bend he held in his hands. [color=tomato]"Uhh... are you flushing cooking oil down your toilet?"[/color] [color=white]"Well you can't tip it down the sink. They say it's no good for the pipes."[/color] Qing Yuan's eyes doubled in size at the response. [color=tomato]"Not good for the-- what do you think a toilet is..?"[/color] [color=white]"Well yeah. But the pipes are... I dunno... Aren't they bigger?"[/color] Qing Yuan chose to ignore the question to avoid insulting the customer. [color=tomato]"I've got some degreaser in the van. I'm going to clean this... and hopefully we can get you away without needing to buy a whole new S-bend and trap. If we can, we can save you... somewhere between twice and three times your money. And then after that, you're not going to flush anything weird down your toilet again."[/color] [hr] Qing Yuan pulled over out the front of the hardware store. He could probably pull some of the stuff for the job tomorrow from the shop, but if he bought it here he'd immediately be able to produce a quote on the drywall and fixings used. Plus it would already be in his van. The bell rang overhead as he walked in. He gave the cursory nod to the counter, before raising his eyebrows in silent gesture that he knew where he was going for what he wanted and what he'd be buying would be quick. It was already dark and not long before close of business. He didn't hear the bell again, whilst he was fingering the selection of dry wall screws finding the desired lengths and gauge. A few minutes later he shuffled to the front of the store with the sheets of board and selection of screws. The man in front of him flashed steel, and his demeanour immediately swung the atmosphere. The energy in the shopfront changed. [color=yellow]"Empty the till! Gimme all the damn cash that's in there! Go! Go! Go! Now!"[/color] The man behind the register nodded, looking as beset upon as he currently should do. He flashed a glance at Qing Yuan who did his best to look stony faced. The glance was intercepted by the man with the gun. Qing Yuan internally swore. [color=yellow]"You! Not so fast!"[/color] He swung the gun from being pointed at the cashier, to pointing it at Qing Yuan. [color=tomato]"I'm carrying drywall. I'm not doing anything fast."[/color] [color=yellow]"Funny. Stay right where you are."[/color] [color=tomato]"This isn't really a great idea. I mean, he's going to give you what's in the registers, but it's probably not that much. Places like this... they do bank runs before nightfall. And most of their business is by tradesmen. And unless they're doing questionable business under the table, most don't pay by cash. They pay by card. Because it makes it easier to do their accounting."[/color] [color=yellow]"Shut up!"[/color] The man got more agitated. [color=yellow]"That's it, I'm robbing you! Gimme your wallet!"[/color] [color=tomato]"Sure. Sure, that's fine."[/color] Qing Yuan pulled his wallet out and dropped it on the floor between the two men discussing the finer points of robbing a hardware store. The man with the gun scooped it up. [color=yellow]"Yeah. I got your money. How'd'you feel now, smart guy?"[/color] [color=tomato]"Well... there's only like fifteen bucks cash in there. Like I said. I was gonna pay all this stuff off by by card. Which I'm gonna call up and cancel the second we're done here."[/color] Then he stopped and called out to the cashier. [color=tomato]"Oh! I'm gonna have to go by store credit now, this time. That's ok, right? You guys recognise the van?"[/color] He pointed out the window to his car. The cashier rapidly nodded very nervously. [color=yellow]"Hey! Don't you answer him! You get me my goddamn money!"[/color] The gun swung back to the front counter. The gap between Qing Yuan and the armed man had now halved, but the man was agitated and the weapon was being swung wildly. [color=yellow]"And you... 'Qu-ing Yoo-an Loo'... from..."[/color] as he read his address back to him, from his drivers licence in his wallet. [color=yellow]"...you won't be stopping any payments, if you don't want me to come around your house later, you're gonna let me have a good time on your dime."[/color] A vision played out before his eyes, his mother again in the shop. Silhouetted strangers. Another vision... this time his father. An unexpected stranger. [color=tomato]"It's pronounced 'Ching'. 'Ching Yw-ahn.'"[/color] [i]Am I about to kill this fucking guy for pronouncing my name wrong?[/i] Qing Yuan had subtly placed the drywall on the ground and leant it against his leg earlier. The space was halved. The man with the gun wore hubris like a fine robe, believing none could possibly threaten the power of a gun. [i]No. It'd be for my father if I did it... but the fact that I'm considering that as a possible reason is close enough to crazy as is.[/i] First he'd have to dissipate the rage. He breathed, and let life flow its natural course through his personage. [color=yellow]"I don't like that look you're giving me, Ching."[/color] The man said, sticking the gun in his ribs. [color=yellow]"Which is a shame, since I just learned how to say your name, and where you live. We coulda been best buds. But I think I've got a better way to make sure you don't go cancelling those cards early..."[/color] Qing's hands dropped fast, recognising the sudden danger. [h1][b][color=white]B[/color][color=silver]A[/color][color=darkgray]N[/color]G[color=black]![/color][/b][/h1] Qing Yuan slid back on the linoleum on his heels and lay on the dirty hardware store floor. The drywall dropped. [color=yellow]"Plus... I think it'll get this guy's attention better. Now where... Is... My goddamn money?"[/color] His attention now fully on the cashier behind the counter. [color=yellow]"Hopefully, you realise now, that I am DONE with everything other than putting... my money... in my goddamn hand... I have the gun. And you can clearly see I'm not--"[/color] Ching-- ching- ching... A flattened bullet was flicked onto the countertop and rang the service bell that was resting there. [color=yellow]"Aww shit..."[/color] [color=tomato]"You cracked my drywall panelling, threatened family, and made me let go of something priceless to me that I can never get back."[/color] Chi swirling, aglow behind muscles tense with promised purpose. [color=yellow]"A fucking gray. Alright. I didn't understand the situation. I shouldn't have shot you. Ok?"[/color] [color=tomato]"Shooting me was the least offensive thing you've done to me today."[/color] The man removed the clip, dropping it on the ground, and emptied the chamber. Hands raised. [color=yellow]"Look! There! I'm unarmed. OK. I shouldn't have shot ya. I could have handled things differently."[/color] [color=tomato]"It was also the dumbest thing you did. And that was quite a list."[/color] [color=yellow]"Hey! I said I'm unarmed, you heroes aren't supposed to--"[/color] [color=tomato]"I don't see any heroes here..."[/color] A glowing fist clubbed the man into unconsciousness. [/color]