Alterius Manu

Well! Here we are. This is my first story, so wish me luck! I don't have much to say right now, given first story and chapter, but enjoy and please give me feed back! I don't know to continue or not xD The title roughly translates into "In the Hands of Another" Enjoy.. :3 Oh, and I'm sorry about the lack of indents, but for some reason would not let me no matter how many different ways I tried, if someone could let me know about that, it would be much appreciated... :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any DoA characters, only my own few characters in the story and the story plot! Those are mine. Don't steal em . Or else..


Rig exhaled heavily as he finished bolting the last bit of new equipment into place for his day. The explosion that blew the main valve called for many new replacements and then, being the rig manager, he took new precautions to ensure that the incident would not repeat itself anytime soon. Rig growled playfully as his best friend's hand clapped him between his sweat-drenched shoulders.

"Hey man, screw off!" The smaller man shrugged him off. "I, unlike you, have been hauling and installing all this new shit all day." He continued after a sigh. "Sore as shit." He finished with a grumble. Bass only laughed heartily as they started their walk to go get dinner and drinks at Taylor's. "Well, maybe if you weren't so small…" Bass trailed off into another laugh, quieter than the last. He found his own joke positively amusing. Rig smirked and stretched his arms over his head, successfully popping his shoulders with a content groan.

"You know, if you didn't spend so much time polishing that rust bucket…" the twenty-three year old jested back, referring to the elders motorcycle that was uselessly placed on the rig. He continued leisurely walking, his fingers linked behind his head in a comfortable posture, trying to hold onto the release he felt from popping his shoulders earlier.

He chose to ignore the fuming man behind him, who had stopped completely. That is until Rig had to drop low to avoid a would have been well placed boot to his already tired back. He turned on Bass, stormy silver eyes flashing dangerously as his instincts kicked in to defend his worn body.

"You sure you wanna do this? You're gunna be in for some pain." The words were growled out, and Bass wisely decided he didn't wish to deal with an authentically pissed off Rig. The man had devastating grace and strike power in a friendly one-on-one, but Bass had seen Rig pissed once, yet it had been enough to even intimidate the mighty ring champion. Bass still remembered it like it was yesterday.

~Flashback~

The ex pro wrestler let out a frustrated groan when he saw that he had missed his shot on the pool table, the ball just barely grazing the solid red ball he was aiming for. The two strangers he was playing against laughed lightly, cockily giving him another go. 'God damnnit! Why'd I go off and pick two on one pool?! Mother-." As Bass continued on with his internal self-criticism, he was startled out of it by his cue stick being snatched out of his hand and a person hopping up to sit on the corner of the pool table, twirling the stick between their fingers smoothly.

"Rig…" Bass greeted unsure, wondering what the young man was up to. Rig simply smirked, casual upturn of smooth lips was all the oddly large man saw under the black hood.

"Ey." Bass had forgotten about those two. "Ya' gunna shoot?" They full believed the new comer had just as much skill at pool as the rugged southerner. Honestly Bass did too. He'd never even seen the shorter man near the pool tables.

Rigs smirk only grew more devilish by the word spoken by the two strangers, before he abruptly turned his upper body, crossing his right leg over his left and keeping his hips in place as he leaned left over the pool table. He scanned his eyes over the table in front of him for but a second, his cue stick in place by the white cue ball. "Heh…" Slight tilt of the wrist and the ball glided right over the red stripe in front of it, striking the orange solid, which flew into a blue solid, deflecting the orange into a pocket. The blue solid slammed into the red solid Bass tried to hit earlier, ricocheting the blue off into a corner pocket. To finally put an end to his play, the red rolled to the solid eight ball, rolling backwards into a side pocket while all eyes were on the eight, which was crawling slowly towards to corner pocket right where Rig was sitting.

It sunk into the pocket.

Rig sat back up and continued to twirl the stick between his fingers calmly. One of the strangers slammed his stick down on the table. "You son of a b-"

"Yoooohooo! Earth to Bass!" Rig's hand waving in front of his face brought him back to reality, and back to see that they had made it to Taylor's Bar. "Goddamnnit Bass. You weren't listening to a word I was saying , were you?" Bass simply shrugged, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Oops?" he questioned. Rig sighed in mock annoyance as his co-worker opened the door to the bar, allowing the shorter man in before him. The ex-wrestler smiled lightly as he saw the pool table he was just thinking about.

"I'll go order, grab a seat old man." Bass sent a hand into the back of the younger's head, laughing in his hearty way as it was swatted away with a playful glare, the younger not so up tight anymore. The large man walk away to a booth with a smile.

Sighing and shaking his head, Rig headed over to the bar and took his normal seat at the end. He waited a minute.

Two minutes

Three.

Four.

Finally Rig looked up, curious at the lack of service. Normally the owner was right over to him, even during the busiest of hours, he had taken a liking to Rig, and seemed to tolerate Bass' loud nature because of that fact. "Humph…" The brunette sharply turned his head to each side, cracking his stiff neck. The rig manager leaned his head down over the bar table, running his hand up and down his cropped hair and neck, leaving it there as he zoned out, letting his mind wonder to the new equipment he installed and stored.

In the back of his mind, Rig heard the door behind the bar to the kitchen open, but it didn't draw him out of his thoughts until he heard the familiar voice of the owner call to him.

"Sorry Rig," a chuckle "was dealing with some stuff." The older man who owned the bar smiled apologetically. " 'S no problem." Rig threw the man a smile. "The usual, yeah?"

"Sure thing, kid." After the man nodded and walked away, Rig spun himself around in his bar stool, leaning his arms back on the bar top and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. The rig manager turned his head back towards the bar when a beer bottle was placed near his hand. "For the wait." Taylor simply stated and a grin.

"Thanks, man." Rig tipped the bottle towards the bartender before downing a gulp, scanning his eyes over the pool area. He tilted his head slightly to the right when he spotted two of his older co-workers pointing and whispering, making lewd jesters towards a booth.

Following their gazes, Rig was drawn to a corner booth near a large window. He understood the jesters now. A petite girl was sitting in the booth with her back turned to Rig. She seemed to be trying her best to hold her ground under the scrutinizing gazes of the men in the bar. Rig examined what he could see of her. (He could only see from the back and the side a little.)

She had on a pair of white knee high boots, with back trim that laced up in the back, a mid-thigh length black pleated skirt with a thick black leather belt, and a white low necked sweater with sleeves, which started to lightly bell out at the wrists, covering most of her hand.

From what he could see of her face, she had a soft jaw line, pale skin, and blushed cheeks. He couldn't see much more then that from his angle though.

Her hair was a uncanny mixture between fiery gold shimmers and honey blonde. She had no highlights, and as far as he could tell, it was natural. Her hair flowed down to her waist, with soft waves going through it. The twenty-three year old turned his eyes away from the table at the sudden feeling of deja vu, taking another chug of his beer. 'A girl like that hanging out around here is gunna end up hurt, or worse by these men.'

"Two house burgers, one without tomato, and two beers!" The food was placed next to him and the other man leaned on the bar by Rig. "Anything else, Rig?"

"That girl-" he tilted his beer bottle towards the corner booth where the mysterious girl was "what's her story?" The rig manager heard the man next to him take a sharp inhale, before exhaling slowly. "It's my daughter Rig." Rig quickly turned around towards Taylor in his stool, confusion evident in his eyes.

"What the fuck do you mean that's your daughter Taylor? Your daughter is dead, she died on the rig. I found her myself under the piping-" Rig's eyes softened lightly at the memory of the beautiful girl's battered body on the hard metal floor "she was dead. You saw her body."

The older mans downcast eyes started examining the condensation on Rig's beer bottle. He took a deep breath, and begun explaining to Rig.


Alrighty folks, that's it for this chapter. =) Let me know what you thought of my very first story! Reviews are much appreciated and encouraged! No harm can be done by leaving one =P. Try not to flame though, however constrictive criticism is good! Oh, and this story has no beta reader so please feel free to message me about typos, I did proof read and fix the few I found though. =) Should I continue?