Majoraa
TruthHurts
LG
LOCATION:Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon
WORD COUNT: 3,969(+4 EXP)
MENTIONS:
A Collaborative Post With @Lugubrious
Feet meeting dust, Mao kept a steady pace as he walked away from the plant site. The faster they were out of sight the better, he figured, as it meant less witnesses to them being in the area. As far as he knew, the plan went off without a hitch. Klee's 'treasures' were planted under some tiles he loosened up, a great hiding spot as he'd promised, and while someone might have seen them go into the alleyway, he didn't think they looked overly suspicious considering Maritsu always had a bunch of multi-colored folk running around. Though he could have done without Maeve being a loud nuisance, they were tasked on the same job and he had no say in the matter. Something that was equal parts annoying and frustrating.
All they had to do now was lay low. The bubblegum-haired woman could 'wet her whistle' as much as she wanted now, instead of stalling earlier. If something had gone wrong, she might have actually been helpful, so there was no point in complaining now that things were said and done. All he had to do now was ensure Klee didn't wander off or get herself into any trouble, but thankfully she was pretty compliant and polite. He hadn't been sure how he felt about essentially being tasked as a babysitter, but he had warmed up to her a little, even if he'd never vocally admit that to anyone. She didn't try and be bossy like some people, and wasn't a nuisance like a few folks he could form a list about.
However, being willing to look after Klee didn't always mean he was good at it. Mao's mind tracked to heading as far away as possible from the plant site, but as he attempted to pass the restaurant from earlier, he felt a tug on his coat that caused him to turn his head, glancing back and noticing Klee looking up at him. Given that he didn't turn further, it seemed he didn't want to stop for long, and was fully oblivious to why she'd stop him here of all places. "What is it, Klee? We should be heading back now that we buried your treasure." He kept patient, not trying to sound too urgent as to not worry her, but he was ready to be long gone from here.
“What about the pizza?” the little girl pouted, her eyes watering from the thought that her caretaker forgotten about her request. “You said we could get some. Um, but if we can’t, that’s...that’s okay.” She looked down at the ground, the very picture of resigned disappointment.
Mao blinked behind his glasses, body fully turning now to face Klee as he looked between her and the restaurant next to them. Her expression was like a knife in the gut level of guilt, Mao visibly flinching from the feeling she gave off. "The pizza, right..." He responded, figuring that sitting down in the restaurant kept them out of sight for the most part anyways, so it fit into their objective. Plus, he had said he'd come back, she was jogging his memory. "I got sidetracked and it slipped my mind. Let's go eat first, then we can head back." He surrendered to his previous promise, though didn't sound very apologetic on the matter.
“Yay! Thank youuu!” Klee cheered, the immensity of her sorrows evaporating in an instant, but at least she had some manners. She raced into the Hound Pits pub with her arms extended to either side, and with a roll of her eyes Maeve followed at a jog. Only as Mao went after him did he get the feeling that something was missing. A few moments of looking passed before he realized that the scene lacked both a sight and a sound: the enormous saxophone player from earlier, filling the quaint establishment with the sweet notes of jazz.
Inside, Klee headed for the same booth the trio inhabited earlier. A waitress whose eye she managed to catch headed over after dropping off a basket of fries to another table and collecting an unused menu. “More waters?” she asked in a flat tone as Maeve and Mao grew close.
Mao, barely trusting the water in this town let alone anything else, nodded. "Waters, then whatever she wants." He gestured to Klee with his thumb, not about to be taking requests for Ms. Bubblegum. She could pay for her own drink if she wanted something better. A pizza ought to be enough food for them to share, too. Mao wasn't about to admit to being a cheapskate or anything, but money didn't grow on trees around here. Or maybe he was just petty? It was always up to an individual to decide.
Klee’s eyes shone when she was given free reign to request whatever she wanted, but luckily she was a girl of modest ambitions. “A pizza, please!” She chirped.
“What kind?” the waitress asked, very patient.
“Mushroom?”
The worker didn’t need a notepad to get that down. “Okay then, one mushroom pizza. Small, I’m guessing. Anything else?”
Maeve flagged down her attention. “I’ll take a strawberry shake!”
With the two orders memorized the woman strode off, leaving the trio alone at their table once more.
"Charge that shake separate!" Mao called out, snapping from Maeve's insolence. His glare met the pink-haired woman for a moment, wanting to start verbalizing his irritation to her as his mind raced for the correct words to express his anger.
A moment later, loud footsteps from the direction of the door, quickly growing louder. Although Klee’s cohort couldn’t make out much from their angle in the booth, and Maeve needed to twist around to even attempt it, they got a sense of a big, burly frame atop short legs that bustled their way. Another few seconds and the unknown figure appeared, and although it wasn’t an enemy, the realization of who it was left neither Mao nor Maeve feeling any better.
“Hey, guys!” Baz practically bellows, his total lack of indoor voice as prominent as ever. The broad-shouldered man stood with his hands perched on his enormous wrestling belt, lightning-blue eyes gleaming our from a pillar of a face wreathed in choppy blond hair. “I happened to see you guys go in, and since everything’s better with Baz, I figured I’d drop by!” He proceeded to seat himself in the trio’s booth, ignorant of the look of wanting to die etched on Maeve’s face as she was forced to scoot over. “Whatcha havin’?”
“Uncle Baz!” Klee cheered. She hopped down from her seat and ran around the table so that the big hooligan could pick her up. “We’re having mushroom pizza!”
“Mushroom!?” The man hoisted her up onto his arm. As amazingly inept of a guardian Baz was, having managed to lose Klee every time he was told to take care of her, the two idiots got on like two peas in a pod. “Pizza’s great and all, but if you wanna be as strong as the Baz someday, you’ve gotta get more protein, kid!”
"Let's not start making doomsday scenarios." Mao added in, horrified at the idea of Klee ending up more like Baz in any regard. Mao leaned back as far as the booth's seat would allow, watching the scene with an unamused expression behind his glasses. Baz was irritating, in an entirely different way: He was the definition of a mook, but unlike Maeve who just gave off conflicting vibes, Klee really liked him. He was a 'jolly' guy, so it made sense, he figured. She made bombs and he was bombastic, but that didn't make the display anymore tolerable. All his protein talk just reminded Mao that Baz was a bit of a meathead, but also reminded him of a estatic vampire who was obsessed with sardines and their health benefits, protein included!
He would've asked what Baz was doing around here, but it wouldn't surprise him if 'patrol around aimlessly' was his current task, so why bother asking? Mao grabbed the hot sauce bottle that sat on the table with the assortment of condiments, fingers toying with it as an attempted distraction. "Guess we should've sprung for a bigger pizza if we're having more guests." He mused out loud, weaponizing Baz's presence against Maeve for a moment by considering if they had enough for him, too. If he had to give Baz any credit, he was at least honest. Maybe TOO honest, but he didn't have to worry about him the same way he worried about the pink gossip girl.
“Huh? Nah, I’m good.” He let Klee down, and the kid went back over to her own seat in anticipation of the coming meal. “Just got out of lunch at HQ. Damn near kicked me out, actually. Can you believe it? All cryin’ and whinin’ about me havin’ enough meat. Well, ‘scuse me if ‘enough’ is never enough! D’you know much much it takes to get this jacked?!” He raised both arms to flex, nearly clocking Maeve’s chin in the process. He laughed and slammed his arms down on the table, making the silverware jump and drawing a few eyes. “I’ve been gettin’ so much experience lately, by the time I find the Order of No Quarter they’re gonna be beggin’ for the Baz the join ‘em!”
Maeve shifted in her seat, her head leaning on a hand with her elbow on the table. “Maybe you should join the circus instead.”
“We’ve got a circus!?”
"There's enough clowns for one."
A few minutes later a simple mushroom pizza was delivered to the table alongside Mae’s shake. The young woman planted a straw in it and got busy, while an overjoyed Klee dug into her favorite dish. Although it wasn’t exactly the same as the pizza from her world by any stretch, the spirit of it carried through to her, and the child savored every bite. “It’s so good! You have to have some, Baz!” she insisted.
Despite his claims of a full lunch already, the big man didn’t take much convincing. Whether the four enjoyed the moments of peace or not, they did so unburdened by guilty or regret, and that made just about everything a bit sweeter.
Between Klee and Baz, it took no time at all for the small mushroom pizza to be completely devoured. Mao taking back his decision to have a bite himself and instead seemed content with sipping at the bottle of hot sauce like it was a normal beverage. With the food gone and Klee's hunger hopefully satisfied, he could only think of getting out of here. Maybe if it had that nice jazzy atmosphere from earlier he'd stay, but it seemed they kicked out the guy making the music and left themselves with nothing but loud pub chattering. "This place is a crapshoot without the music, I'm ready to get out of here." He commented as an interruption to the good time, standing from his seat in the booth, hot sauce bottle still in hand which he then proceeded to put back to his mouth as if he seemed to be finishing it off.
Disappointed maybe in not being the first to lead a movement, Baz extracted himself from the booth and stood up right after. “You said it, pal,” he agreed, despite not having been around during the music. Maeve scrambled out after him after dropping a couple coins for her snack, and Mao did the same. While being good, law-abidiing citizens wasn’t exactly the modus operandi, they at least needed a couple places they were welcome, so dining and dashing on such a small check was off the table. With Klee just about on top of the world the trio got underway, only to realize that their hanger-on seemed intent on making a quartet. “So, where’re we headed?” Baz asked as he sauntered from the Hound Pits and into the early afternoon sun.
'We?' Mao repeated in his mind, thinking of how hard keeping a low profile would be with a big loudmouth like Baz following them around. His mind raced momentarily, a decision being made to go back on his less than pleasant thoughts about Baz from earlier, and to embrace a bit of hypocrisy for his own benefit. "Don't you have something to do, Baz? You said you came from HQ, right?" Surely if they almost kicked him out then they gave him some sort of petty job to get lost in. Maybe giving the burly man's brain a jumpstart would help him get back on track.
The wrestler scratched his head. “Huh? Oh! Uh…” Recognition dawned in his eyes as all of a sudden he remembered his instructions. “Yeah, I was s’posed to round up anyone I found. Apparently there’s a buncha new folks in town who’ve already started gettin’ friendly with the Grimlosers. So of course the captain’s callin’ another snoozefest.” He grit his teeth, clearly opposed to the prospect of another Resistance meeting, but something ultimately prevented him from defying the orders he’d been given.
"Probably just some mercenaries trying to make a quick buck," Mao assumed, though the idea of having more opposition to deal with wasn't pleasant. It really said something about the Grim if they needed outside help to handle their group, however. What use were a couple of peons, though? Maybe this meeting meant they were more than that? Only one way to find out. "But if they're worried enough to call a meeting, we ought to go. We'll scoop up any idiots wandering about on the way, come on." Seemed like he'd be traveling with Baz after all, against his wishes. He was sure Klee wouldn't complain, however.
Sure enough, the kid looked happy to have the big lout along for the ride. As far as she knew the day just kept getting better and better; after a fun game of knock-it-down with some scaffolding in the morning, she and the others had run around for a while playing catch-me-if-you-can with the funny people in robes. Then she got to hide her new treasures, have pizza, and now her favoritest person was here to goof around with her. Only when Klee learned where the group would be going did her smile disappear. “Aww. I don’t want to see the others again.” Unfortunately, she knew she had no choice. “Is demon face going to be there?”
Baz shrugged. “Probably. But nothin’s gonna happen to ya while I’m around, kid! C’mon, I’ll give ya a ride on the Baz’s mighty shoulders.” Gratefully Klee accepted his offer, always happy for a ride, and the wrestler’s size made him a better candidate than most.
Leaving the Hound Pits the four turned south and made for the train station. Baz’s heavy footfalls clanged against the metal grates of the catwalk that went above the train platforms, close enough close enough to the cannon of the hulking Railway gun that Klee could reach out and touch it. After climbing down the stairs back to ground level at the other end, they went along the wall down the platform, past a set of restrooms to where a turntable could send a train off on a parallel track. A set of gates barred the way, and the employee access door beside it, with a big ‘NO TRESPASSING’ sign on it, was deadbolted. Anyone in the know, however, knew that lifting the loose-hinged door by the handle in just the right direction would allow the bolt to escape the tampered mechanism. Going through it brought the quartet to a seldom-seen section of Al Mamoon, as restricted as it was neglected: the Train Graveyard. Getting the trains up and running had not been an easy process, especially as the Vizier struggled at first to come to terms with modern technology in the course of his public projects, and the Graveyard stood as just one testament to Validar’s utter lack of compromise when it came to seeing his will be done. It contained the ‘error’ portion of the trial and error process by which Al Mamoon had been thrust into the new age. High sandstone walls, tough chain-link fence, and rumors of curses kept the average person from exploring here, which sat just fine with the Resistance. Baz, Maeve, and Mao navigated the maze of trains, avoiding both traps and the pesky monsters that called the place home, until they reached the hideout.
Hidden inside a broken-down train car indistinguishable from the rest and far removed from civilian eyes, it made for a good base, even if those found here made for bad company. No sooner did they step inside than the new arrivals were greeted by the double whammy of Cass, the bad-tempered cyborg whose indiscretion had already spilled some blood today, and Daemon, the masked swordsman whose Klee-scaring visage belied one of the better hearts among the Resistance. With a spatter of blood still on her face, Cass gave a venomous smile. “Ah, my little kitty. I didn’t think you’d make it out of there.” Maeve scowled but otherwise ignored her, shoving past and toward the meeting car.
Mao wasn't exactly fond of 'Chicken Legs' Cass anymore than Maeve. Though they shared a willingness to kill, he'd been pulled from the more tyrannical mindset and instead looked more into justifying his attacks. Justification being targets of the Resistance, of course, without any tendency to question the validity of said targets. These 'morals' if you could call them that were an unnatural part of him, yet felt second-nature at the same time. Her ruthlessness hit different than it would have in the past, but that was more her problem than his. The mechanical-bird wannabe could go pluck herself.
The loud stomping behind him from Baz drew a thought from his mind: How, of all things, did that start feeling like the most tolerable thing in HQ? Maybe it was just because he kept Klee happy, but at that point it turned into Mao babysitting two people. And he wasn't sure how fond he was of that idea.
Speaking of Klee, Mao used himself as a sort of stopgap between the others and her, essentially turning him and Baz into walls for her protection against the individuals the former didn't trust, at the very least. He kept a stern expression as he made his way into the meeting car, hand resting on the handle of his sheathed blade as he voiced his complaint on the meeting. "Seems like most of us got dragged back here, so what's the deal? The Grimlosers making a move?" With no remorse his remark was stolen from Baz, and no, he wasn't crediting him for it.
Inside the central train car, a couple more familiar faces were already gathered, waiting for the meeting to begin. Leaning on her giant ring blade with a distant look on her face was Tira, a bipolar lunatic who gave Cass a run for her money in the craziness department. But while Cass antagonized and endanger the others in a reckless, prideful bid at self-aggrandisement, Tira relished the freedom of not caring a whit what others said, did, or thought, and that made her both more tolerable and more dangerous. Meanwhile, the masked ninka Koga reclined against a wall, taciturn as ever. If anyone could be said to do his job with neither quirk nor complaint, it was him.
At Mao’s prompting, Daemon stood and moved to the bulletin board on one wall, where he crossed his arms and turned to address the group. Though a terribly motley crew, those assembled before him -Mao, Maeve, Cass, Baz, Klee, Tira, and Koga- represented about a third of the Resistance’s total power. It took a sharp mind and a firm hand to keep leverage them properly and prevent their discovery and annihilation by the authorities as they carried out their mission of rebellion, and having lead his own gang in the past, Daemon could do just that. Still, all the authority he had came from Number Two, and with the possible exception of Cass these people listened to him solely because the acting leader told them to. Daemon cleared his throat.
“Maybe. Word’s come down we need to be on the lookout for some new faces in town. They arrived by train a few hours ago according to Koga, and after she saw them leaving the palace Sombra’s been tailing them. As best we can tell it looks like Validar brought in a little extra muscle to deal with his problems, and I don’t just mean lost dogs or the Custodian we dumped in the waterworks.” As he spoke he ran his fingers along the city map behind him, nudging the pictures pinned there in turn. “They split up to get the lay of the land, but once they do, they’re coming for us for sure.”
"Might be better to make sure they never regroup at all," Mao commented on the information provided, continuing: "They're on our turf, we can take advantage of that while also being able to outnumber their smaller groups outside of the common areas of the city." While Mao didn't trust the group particularly well, their circus of freaks was strong. He may have been underestimating a similar caravan of freaks now rolling into town to help in their extermination, but if they were stronger than he thought, that was even more reason to hit them while they were split.
The idea did not seem to take Daemon by surprise. “It’s on the table. Number Two wants them caught and brought back to her we can, so she can convince them to join us. No use wasting any actual talent, after all. But right now we don’t have a bead on all of them. Sombra went back to report rather than randomly pick one group to tail, but we’re gonna get the pictures she took any minute now. Once we find ‘em, a couple can pull something suspicious to lure ‘em into an ambush. Rough ‘em up, drag ‘em back, figure out what Validar’s plotting. Got it?”
Flummoxed as usual but used to it by now, Klee just shook her head softly. Whatever these people wanted to do, Mao or Baz could tell her. At least her big friend seemed confident. “Roughin’ up chumps is what the Baz does best!” he proclaimed.
"Recruitment through violence! She thinks like a demon, that's for sure!" Mao added, figuring this to be as good as done. It was a Netherworld norm to recruit people directly after beating the hell out of them, so the plan seemed solid as far as he was concerned. And as much as Baz's intelligence was usually insulted, all those muscles were useful in a brawl. Not to mention that rope of his would be perfect to wrap up the unconscious peons. "And I do love making people talk." Mao added, the idea of having a noncompliant subject to examine to be exciting. Number Two was quite good at getting information from people herself however, so if he'd get the chance was up in the air.
“Then we’ll spread out along the main avenue,” Daemon confirmed, giving everyone their orders. “When they come back a group at a time to turn in their jobs at the commissions office and find it a crater, we’ll lead ‘em off.”
After a few moments the black plastic printer in a corner of the room came to life, shaking the stool it stood on as it spat out a couple of pictures in quick succession, color and everything. They depicted an interesting assortment of unfamiliar faces, from a big glitzy bug to a mustached strongman to a beautiful dancer to a hamster in overalls, although Maeve and Mao couldn’t help but feel as if they’d seen the big, trench-coated man somewhere before. Tira kneeled over the photos, grinning. “Ooh-hoo-hoo, I can hardly wait!”
The cyber-ninja picked up his sheathed katana with a flourish and attached it to his belt. “Then let’s go.”
