Deadman's Wonderland: Wretched Egg's ACE
Plot Summary: Starts off the day before Ganta's fight with Crow. It seemed like a good place to start it off, but it quickly move til after the breakout of Scar Chain before resuming at a normal pace, though with time skips. The normal pace without alot of time skips will start at either chapter 50 or 51 of the manga. Dang, does anybody know how hard it is to start a story within the canon story line right after reading what's happened in the manga? This shitz is frustrating! Anyway, a young boy from America grows up in an abusive, tragic, backwoods setting (cliche, right?) and he somehow (I aint telling yet! XD) ends up in the just built Deadman Wonderland.
As a Deadman.
In the most fortified and isolated cell in G-Block.
None of the Deadmen know hardly anything about him, even fewer even know of him! To those privileged few who know of him, he's considered the most volatile and one of the most deadliest of Deadmen, easily rivaling that of Mockingbird and is a second only to Wretched Egg. In fact, it seems they show much respect for the other. Now, with this hidden goody in DW, what will change from the canon?
Disclaimer: I do not own Deadman Wonderland, but God, if I could meet the person who did, I'd kiss'em. If it's a guy, then I'd just give'em a bear hug and demand they make a Deadman character of me. XD
"One mischievous little woodpecker...
Another day, poking your holes...
ruining the woods, tree wrecker.
The angry old forest god turned your poor beak into a poison knife.
Poor little woodpecker, your nesting holes are all tainted...
Your food, with toxins rife.
Touch your friends and they all will die, falling at your feet.
Oh, sad little woodpecker.
Poisonous tears, shining brightly, as they stream down your cheeks."
As the lullaby ended for a moment before the wordless tune repeated itself for the umpteenth time in what was probably years, a man known by many names sighed and closed his eyes in anticipation. There was one time that it didn't repeat and all had been silent for several minutes. It wasn't too bad from what he could remember, but then again, he's been held at the deepest part of this place for all but one day of his life-sentence. He remembered brief rumors of the Wretched Egg going berserk.
hahahaaa
The Wretched Egg. That person was something else; the only one in this cold place that he honestly respected and even admired. She was actually the one to sing that lullaby when they fought for the second time. For the first whole year in this place's creation, the only two prisoners were them. Both of them were kept apart, probably a good thing too. There were a few times, two to be exact, that this old guy, the director of this prison, made them fight each other. They were both relatively new in using their particular skills, but the Wretched Egg grew use to it faster than he did and beat him.
The second time was alot closer. He was sure he'd broken the Wretched Egg's left arm and back, but the person was completely fine not a minute later. This time, they even destroyed the cage that they were in within the first minute. That fight was the catalyst that started bringing in stock brokers and investors. It's been four years since they last saw each other. Almost everyone had forgotten about him, but he knew the Wretched Egg hadn't forgotten about him. In a way, they were each other's first, which created an invisible but unbreakable bond towards the other. They always seemed to know where the other was at, or how they were feeling...atleast, that's what he felt.
The ground up above him rumbled and shook as the faint sounds of heavy machinery slaving away worked on God knows what. He figured they were probably expanding the facility again. For the first couple of months, he didn't even know this place was underground. He hasn't seen the sun in eight years. Has it been eight years? Maybe it was six? His body hasn't felt like it has. All he had to go by was keeping track of how many times he wakes up.
A loud ringing noise rips through the silence in his room, alerting him that the sleep cycle is over. Luckily, he was already awake minutes prior, or that buzzer would have buzzed its last. As he sat up from his bed, his body's joints, muscles, and bones popping every inch of the way, he briefly glanced around the room in the darkness, naturally.
Six years, atleast, he has called this cell his home and even in the darkness, he knew every square inch of it like the back of his hand. It was circular in shape, about twenty feet high and sixty feet in diameter. Nothing but cold, unforgiving steel. The edges of the rounded corners of the floor and ceiling were dimly lit by dark, reddish-orange, neon lights that reminded him of the color of lava.
In the middle of the circle hung from the ceiling was a large heavy bag. It was the same size as the regular ones, only difference was it weight 400 lbs cuz besides the thin layer of padding, the inside was solid concrete. The conditioning of his body demanded more rigorous and unorthodox methods.
Against the wall fifteen feet to the left of him was his hammock. Sometimes he'd prefer it over the bed. On the opposite side of the wall was his own work rack of dumbbells, the lowest being 50s while the highest were plates that went to 100lbs. He even had a customized 65lb bar. Everything came with its own mats and adjustable benches. Ten feet to the left of the hammock, from the ceilings hung midway a pull-up bar. He often had to make alot of work with that to meet his body's demands.
In front of the pull-up bar, there as a door in the wall that led to his bathroom, which was about fifteen by fifteen feet. He assumed all bathrooms were that big.
knock-knock
He heard the small knocking on the door. Contrary to belief, to get the knocking to reach through the two foot metal door would take some banging instead. He knew who it was anyway. It was the same routine ever since his unfortunate incident with the innocent soul that woke him up when he wasn't ready. The person would not knock anymore until they counted to thirty seconds. That's usually the time it took for him to get up, do a quick stretch of his limbs, reach the door, and knock back on it two times, alerting the person on the other side that he was awake.
Sighing, he stood up, more of his body popping and protesting the movement. Grabbing his elbows and taking a deep breath, he twisted his upper body from side-to-side, eliciting more pops and 'aahs'. Letting out a stiff yawn, he had about ten more seconds or the person with his breakfast would leave for fear of supposedly waking him up prematurely.
He silently walked through the darkened room, unafraid of tripping over an article of his for he knew where he'd left everything. This was his den after all. Getting to the large, 10ft by 3ft by 10ft (length, width (thickness), and height) metal door, he rapped his knuckles upon the metal surface, the two thuds echoing throughout his room.
He waited a few moments before the sound of several gears turning met his acute hearing. Slowly, probably a foot per three seconds, the three-ton door lifted from the ground, exposing the first bit of little light in his room from the halls. Per request by both him and a scientist lady who actually understood his behavior patterns, the 100 yd stretch of empty hallway leading to his door were kept dimly lit with the same familiar red-&-orange lights. Something about the low light worked well with his eye sight.
When the door got to his neck, he could already see the pretty staff woman who always ran this shift. She was a raven-haired woman, probably in her late twenties with a nice figure and a sincere personality. She wore the usual outfit of a short-sleeved, dark-blue shirt with a skirt that went just below her thighs, yet you could easily see the outline of her hips.
Her name was Tatsuki Busijima (not really original there :P). She was actually one of the first people to get on his good side, and for her sake, she was glad that she stayed on it. She had with her a rolling cart four trays full of his breakfast.
"Morning, Ares-kun," she greeted, a small smile on her light-skinned, Asian face. She always called him with that suffix, yet he'd never bothered to ask what it means.
"Morning, Tatsuki," he replied with a tired voice. It wasn't James Earl Jones deep, but more of a Catman Cohen deep. He never bothered to learn the honorifics, and plus, he was American in birth, so he preferred to call someone by just their name. It also made a cute blush appear on her cheeks for some reason.
However, living in Deadman Wonderland in Japan did cause some trouble with communication, but with technology these days, they actually gave him a voice translator that they installed in his throat. It had a Eng-Japanese setting and vice-versa. Like a hearing aid, it would translate his muscle movements and words into the desired language. If that wasn't amazing enough, the thing could hear other people's voices as well, so it could translate what they're saying to English. Though only drawback was that it sounded like an extra voice in his head.
That being said, he has taken it upon himself to learn basic greetings and goodbyes.
She huffed cutely. "When are you ever going to learn the honorifics in our language?"
"Whenever you decide to stop blushing like a schoolgirl when I call you by your name, Tat-su-ki," he replied, iterating the syllables of her name to drive his point home.
Her face became flustered. To avoid anymore embarrassment, she brushed by him with his tray of food, intent on not making eye contact. Thankfully, even she knew her way through the dark in his room. The first couple of times had her tripping over a dumbbell and having to be caught in his arms, which resulted in her flustering and sputtering and all other sorts of nonsensical body reactions.
"So, what's for breakfast today?" Ares asked, licking his lips at the sight before him. She saw him licking his lips.
"Pervert."
He sweatdropped and shook off the unfounded insult. "Well look what you're wearing! You're just asking for it," he joked. Psychology, what a wondering weapon.
He laughed at her gaping expression and thanked the God that gave him BoS for his good reflexes and eyesight as he caught a thrown biscuit with his own mouth. Not even having to use his hands, he would release his jaws to let the biscuit get pulled into his mouth before clamping down again. Repeating this process would remind someone of a snake eating a large rodent or something.
"I'll have you know that I'm professionally dressed, unlike you." She took a couple of once-overs of his body, something she always did every meal she brought. While he was a very volatile and dangerous criminal, that only brought him higher on her hot guy scale. He was about 6'4 and looked to be about 200 lbs, but she'd seen his actual weight. It was 250 lbs, but that bit was just because it was all compacted into that tight frame of his that could rival Senji's, aka Crow. While Senji's was leaner, Ares' was a bit bulkier.
He had naturally brown hair, but upon understanding and accepting his more primal and wilder personality, he had it dyed a bright, baby-blue color and set it into a short and wild look to match his other demeanor. The biggest bonus about his head though were his pale-blue eyes. They were some of the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen, and they were much more exotic then the generic black or brown that was common in Japan.
She would've loved to see his bare torso and chest, but he kept it wrapped in thin, tight, grey bandages from the top of his chest down to his waist. Whatever his reasons, even if they were of modesty, the key adjectives about the wrapping were 'thin' and 'tight,' so she still had little room to guess for imagination. He, unlike any other person in DW, preferred the bottom half of a yukata to actual shorts or pants. She wouldn't argue.
His body has dozens and dozens of healed-over scars along his medium-tanned skin. She and several others agreed that marring of such a body or skin was a crime, yet he didn't care. He could tell her the time, place, and situation in which he got each scar, as well as his feelings during that moment. He literally knew his body both inside and out.
"Yeah, whatever you say," he ended the argument and picked up a tray. Each of the trays were packed with the same varieties of food- eggs, link sausage, biscuits, a large bowl of oatmeal, an apple or a banana, and two glasses of some kind of ridiculously supped-up protein shakes. The trays were pretty big, with about 2 pounds of food each. Add the two drinks to each tray and multiply that by four and you got Ares' everyday breakfast.
He thanked her and wasted no time in tearing into the helpless food. The eggs and the sausages had no defense, and they were sitting ducks on their own, so they hoped to overpower the world-eating monster with their sheer numbers. As Ares kept eating with no signs of slowing down, they knew that they were beaten and could only pray that their brothers and sisters would be able to avenge their deaths. Just a stomach ache would be worth it.
After finishing off the egg cavalry and routing the sausage artillery, he moved on to the naval forces of the cinnamon oatmeal empire. The bowls were about the size of a liter, so there was plenty to eat. It took him mere minutes to sink the proverbial battleship of the oatmeal empire's royal navy and finish off any lifeboats.
"Wow, someone's hungrier then usual," Tatsuki commented. Ares' eyes widened and he spoke without thinking.
"Oh, didn't notice you were still here." The woman did some strange act of falling over on her face; being American, many of these strange, Japanese customs were so weird to Ares. However, when she got up, she was spittin' fire.
"How rude! That's just mean and uncalled for! Who do you think you're talking to! I've brought your six meals for you EVERY day for the past THREE YEARS! I swear, next time I just want to be of some good company, I'll leave you a skunk or something! You deserve a skunk, yeah! You both would get along well since you both smell like garbage!"
While she was ranting and raving, he was just eating his second tray with a smile on his face like 'this never gets old.' Eventually, she tired out like he knew she would. It must be her time of the month or something, cuz she's usually only this bipolar during the second week of each month. He sniffs the air a couple of times, testing it. He smells a hint of some kind of sweet and bitter smell.
'Yep. That confirms it.'
"You need to get laid, Tatsuki. Your scent is permeating my room thicker then any skunk ever could."
O.O-Tatsuki
xD-Ares
That was one of the biggest character flaws about Ares. He was always straightforward and never lied to anyone. If he talked to a random person and he wasn't either sarcastic or a smart-ass, then he was okay with them. If he ever talked in a straight, serious manner with someone that wasn't a friend, that person was on his shit-list; if they weren't on his shit-list, then that meant he respected them enough to be straightforward. Pretty weird, right?
By the time she could even regain her brain function from what he'd just said, Ares finished his third tray and was now sprinting on the home-stretch.
"Y-know...ifff you keef your moth open, yu'll get ffflies,'' he chastised with a mouthful of eggs.
She miraculously kept herself from fainting from all the blood rushing to her face after his comment about her needing to be laid 'What would he know?!' she steamed.
She knew he could easily smell a woman or male's scent like a bloodhound. It was her time of the month, but she couldn't help it. There wasn't a single staff worker here who was decent enough, and she'd never try an inmate. She'd always tried to find someone on the outside of the prison yet none were any good to or for her.
"I'm not a bad-looking woman. It shouldn't be this hard!" she whined as she dropped onto the bed beside the eating beast of a man. "Do you think I'm attractive?"
Most men would've either spit out or choked on their food had she asked them that, but he was nowhere near like any other guy she ever knew. He held up a finger to gesture that he needed a moment. Chewing the rest of the food in his mouth, he swallowed it and let out an 'aah' of satisfaction. Looking back at her, making eye contact, he made sure his eyes held her full attention.
"Tatsuki, you're one of only five woman I've seen for the past several years, besides the three Deadwomen that I've fought. I don't know what is considered attractive or ugly to the public..but if I had to describe my thoughts about you, I'd say that I wouldn't regret having a relationship, sexual or not, with you."
He had maintained eye contact with her the entire time, a characteristic he had whenever he wanted to get a point across. It was one of the many things some of the women who've gotten a chance to talk to him loved. He may be blunt, but he never lied. Not once could anyone here recall him lying, or even fibbing! True, it seemed pretty unfair to ask a man a question like she did if she was only one of five he's seen in years, but he still found a way of saying that she was definitely wife material.
She felt her heart pounding under the intensity of his stare and was sure he could hear it as clear as his alarm buzzer. He leaned towards her, his form towering over hers, causing her to lose function to her limbs. All she could do was watch, listen, or quite possibly feel. His hot breath could be felt on her skin even with the foot of distance between their faces. She could practically feel his body heat radiating off of him like a miniature sun in the form of a man.
He gently brought up a hand, a strong, calloused hand that was toughened from constant training, and cupped her cheek with a gentleness that betrayed his image. She knew he was trying to be careful; after all, with his particular Branch of Sin, she was like china glass compared to him. He slowly rubbed her cheek with his thumb, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of how he felt.
"Don't ever lose faith in yourself, Tatsuki. You're a good person. I guess, coming from me, that should be proof enough, eh?"
She chuckled a small bit, a small blush of embarrassment adorning her soft, white face. His hand left her face, too soon in her opinion, and returned to help him finish eating. If she didn't know what he was capable of, she would have never thought that he'd deserve to be locked up in this lonely room. She sat there in silence as he finished off the last of his food. To think that he'd have to eat in just another 1.5 hrs!
He set the empty tray on the roller cart and chugged the last protein shake in just a few seconds. When he finished, he set it down and whipped his mouth with his arm.
"This breakfast seemed especially delicious, Tatsuki. You put something extra in it?"
She waved off his compliment, however ridiculous it was. "No, I'm not the one that makes them. That's Saionji. I'll be back in an hour and 35 minutes," she announced as usual.
"Thank you. I hope you believed my words earlier," he said, looking up at her from his spot on the mattress. "You do deserve the perfect guy."
She felt her eyes about to water from his words. Why were his words having such a profound effect on her? Perhaps it was because even though he was considered one of the two deadliest prisoners in the world, and even when he was imprisoned in an electrified steel box two hundred yards underground for the past six years, he could say such things with no hint of deception or malice. Not caring what others might think, she walked over and planted a soft kiss on his cheek that lasted for several seconds before she quickly took the cart and wheeled it out of his room, her heart beating a hundreds beats-per-minute.
She left him sitting there, stunned by her actions and holding his cheek where she'd kissed him. His own heart rate was picking up with the combination of Tatsuki's pheromones and her kiss still lingering in his mind. After several minutes of reminiscing what had happened, he cracked a sharp smile and got ready for his morning ritual workout, an extra pep in his step.
Tatsuki strolled into the kitchen with the empty cart, her body a little breathless from the insane stunt she'd just pulled. Though it seemed just a simple, sweet gesture, the few people who knew and took care of Ares' needs were all well aware of the risks he presented. In their initial briefing, they were told of his religiously strict activity cycles- 16 hrs sleeping, and 8 hrs being awake. She could remember it clear as day, not counting the fact that they get a re-briefing every two months encase of new recruits. The majority of the twenty people assigned to care for his needs were here since that first day.
(flashback to first briefing, two months after isolation)
The Chief Security Adviser for the whole of G-Block held many such briefings concerning protocols and regulations while working in this secret facility underneath Deadman Wonderland, however...this particular briefing was being held in total secret under direct orders of the a section leader that was one of the founding members of DW.
"Alright people, listen up. I'm only going to say this a couple dozen times and it's because I don't want you to forget any of this."
The women in her early thirties with long black hair stepped up to the front of the group. She wore a soft yet disciplined smile that looked slightly strained.
"Greetings, everyone. I'm Sommoai Higurashi, head researcher of one of the particular Deadmen that is currently housed here. His name is Ares Armington Ashford, the second Deadman to have been discovered, the first being the Wretched Egg. I'm here to explain the do's and don't's when handling this prisoner.
Ares Ashford contains a massive crystal inside his heart that has given him the ability we've named 'Branch of Sin.' So far, we know that this ability allows one to manipulate their own blood in a certain way that's unique to them. We're not sure what causes the virus to develop the way it does, and we don't have any other Deadmen to study.
During the first weeks of his incarceration here, we ran into trouble concerning what makes his mind work. Since then, we've come to near full understanding of his behavior patterns and triggers. His form of branch of sin we've called 'Apex Predator.' He's the first besides the Wretched Egg to develop a Branch of Sin, and in regards to the effects it's had on him, 'Apex Predator' has been deemed a fitting title.
Due to his BoS, his body has undergone tremendous leaps in areas regarding his natural instincts and physical capabilities. He possesses the instinctual prowess and environmental awareness of a wild animal, a wolf to be more specific, and along with these instincts, he's developed levels of physical abilities that are nothing short of superhuman. His speed, strength, eyesight, smell, natural healing, immunity, and reflexes have increased dramatically in all areas, making him a natural killing machine. However, his mind was stressed from the overload of information sent to his brain from his body in the beginning, but he has since then grown accustomed to it.
Besides what I've mentioned, he possesses a rather generic, yet extraordinary, ability we call 'Blood Cannon.' He can form spheres the size of basketballs with his own blood outside of his hands and fire them at high velocity. A hit from just one of these blasts would leave nothing left of a human body, or the wall behind them, and it can travel up to 368 mph."
The few people who were present there began shifting nervously with all these news. Did this woman think they'd just be okay with this?!
"Via months of studying, we've determine his pet-peeves and learn how to cooperate with him. We tested these rules for more months and have yet to have a single incident.
Rule #1: Ares follows a very strict sleeping pattern. Because of the toll his 'Apex Predator' is constantly having on his body, he requires a minimal of 16 hrs of sleep. If anyone were to try to wake him before that time, you may not live long enough to regret it."
Numerous gulps were heard throughout the audience.
"We have him in a cell that is automatically set to electronically shut down at the start of his sleep cycle, and it will not open till the sixteen hours are finished. Even then, it must be opened from the inside by him so as to not have any unforeseeable mishaps. Abide by this rule, and it's a 99% guarantee that he will not harm you concerning this matter."
Several 'pheews' sounded out.
"Rule #2: Because of 'Apex Predator,' his body's metabolic rate is 427% higher then the average Olympian, so we've developed a balanced, nutritional set of meals that will provide him the proteins, lipids, calories, vitamins, and carbohydrates needed to sustain basic life-support functions and extracurricular activities. Within the eight hours that he's awake, he will have six large meals before going back to sleep. If he misses one or more meals, he will be like a starving animal. We have had an issue in the beginning with him having cannibalistic habits when underfed."
The color began fading from the already nervous crowd of caretakers.
"Simply follow the food schedule and you should be fine," Sommoai assured.
"Rule #3: All of his body's senses and instinctual habits have been considerably heightened. Ares can easily pick up the scent of a woman or man, whether they're in natural heat or exerting too much of their own pheromones. There has only been one incident to date, near the beginning, when he mingled with a fellow male worker who had sweated alot. Ares literally tore his limbs apart.
In the matter concerning behavior with the opposite sex..." she paused. She could easily tell what was probably going through the minds of the women in this meeting room. "He has shown to be naturally less hostile, however, when presented with the scent of a woman in heat or during her ovulating period, he's shown to be naturally more in a good mood. However, his human mind has managed to overpower his instincts to act on impulse.
In short, if it is your time of the month, let either me or your supervisor know beforehand before you tend to him, such as serving your meals. Despite his resilience, if he's pressured by a female's sexual advances, he will respond in kind.
Rule #4: In correlation to Rule #3, if you, a woman, decide to pressure him into sexual actions, then for the sake of your life, reap what you sow and do not try to stop him."
Many of the women's eyes widen as they caught the meaning of the words, while men had already heard what they needed to hear.
"Rule #5: Do not antagonize him in any physical or mental way. Despite his human mind, he is still susceptible to reacting to violence like any of us are, only in his case, he may either kill you immediately, or beat you to near death. We've gotten his bio from his childhood and know this: He does not like bullies."
She flipped the paper on the clipboard to read off on the next one. "Rule #6: Do not, under any circumstance, go into his room when it's close to his sleep cycle. The doors are set to lock automatically and stay that way to prevent an accidental lock release. Those who are caught are trapped in that soundproof cell for the next 16 hours and can face all of the aforementioned risks."
Tatsuki shuddered at what might happened if she were to ever get locked up with this maniac. She didn't even know what he looked like, but from what she'd being told, he must be a very scary and repulsive abomination.
"Rule #7: There will always be an armed escort to shadow his movements within a hundred feet of him whenever he goes out into the presence of other coed facilities. If you do not see any within that distance, report to your supervisor immediately."
A hand was raised by one of the men who had been a chef of some big-time restaurant before being hired here.
"Why are we taking care of someone like this dangerous monster? Why not just lock him up and throw away the key?"
Tatsuki winced at how harsh his solution was and couldn't help and disagree with such treatment. If the Chief Security Adviser was bothered, she really showed it.
"Because, we have no idea how many more Deadmen are out there. Once we explained everything to him after stabilizing his behavior, he was willing to cooperate with our research. He knows that he wouldn't last long out in the real world. He knows it wouldn't be long before he ended up eating someone or murdering a bunch of people, or raping some women. He's still human on the inside, and that part of him doesn't want any of that to happen.
Imagine what we could learn by studying his blood. His body has proved to be immune to most of the known diseases that plague humanity today, just like the Wretched Egg's. His body can regenerate wounds at a superhuman rate, as well as replace lost blood. He gives us an unlimited amount of material to study, and all he wants is to survive.
On paper, he's a prisoner of Deadman Wonderland...but in reality, he's actually a prisoner of his own body that evolved without his permission. The least we can do is make life easier for him."
We were all shocked by how passionate she'd become in her defense for him. It was like she was trying hard not to repeat some kind of wrong or something from the past, cuz there's no way a random researcher would have been this passionate about this man.
"He's only 16 yrs old now, yet he has already accepted this fate for the sake of others and his own life. So, who is really the monster here? He, who offers his body for us, or we, the one studying him like a lab rat?"
All of them were silent. The room got so quiet, you could hear a rat pee on cotton. After no one spoke up to raise any doubts, concerns, or questions, Mrs. Sommoai continued.
"The final rule- Rule #8: Under no circumstances is anyone outside of this room or a few certain individuals allowed to know about his BoS's effects on his body. You are all to say that he's simply trained himself to get to the physical height that he has. Are there any questions?"
She looked over the silent crowd for several moments before Tatsuki stood up, determination and a spark showing in her eyes. "Yes, Higurashi-sama. When do I start?"
Suddenly, the rest of the people started standing up and repeating the same question. It was a scene that caused tears to come to the CSA (Chief Security Adviser)'s eyes. She bowed gratefully and laid out the clipboard with dozens of slips of papers on it. They were contracts, or rather vows in this case, to follow all the rules that she'd mentioned. There was even a copy of the rules she'd spoken on the contract.
Tatsuki was allowed first honors and she nervously gripped the pen and readied it at the signature line. She thought of everything Sommoai had told them- everything from the dangers that Ares posed to them and the facility, to the rules and odd behaviors that he needs to follow, yet she also thought about just how much Ares is giving up for them- it didn't take her brain a second to make up her mind.
Scribbling furiously, she signed the paper to seal the rest of her near-future to help make life better for this boy.
All of the secret staff remembered that meeting like it was an hour ago. They remembered their own feelings about the subject-before, during and after- as well as the emotion CSA Higurashi showed. They remembered first meeting the teenager they would care for for the next foreseeable years. All of them were plenty enough shocked that he looked so human, so like the rest of them.
What was nervous fear and shaky determination they felt for the first few months, soon turned to a more relaxed and confident atmosphere. All of the food servers like her were on a familiar name-to-name basis with Ares. At first, he was very cautious towards them whenever they came, which to be honest, unnerved the hell out of them, but as time passed and they became a familiar set of faces for him, he lightened up and was able to make some small talk.
They were all surprised that he didn't really speak Japanese, but he's helped with the latest in instant-audio translating technology that money could buy, thanks to a charitable donation by everyone.
When Deadman Wonderland began turning into the thing it was today, especially with the Carnival of Corpses, everyone really got a good look at what he could actually be. The first fight with the Wretched Egg was something like from an action/sci-fi movie. When he lost, they helped to bring him back out of his minor depression and cheered him on as they watched the limited broadcast of his rematch, thanks in no small part by Sommoai. The second fight blew the first one out of the water, like a battle between demigods. Heck, they even destroyed the arena that was made just for them! However, it was close, but eventually it came down to a war of attrition and he lucked out because of his BoS.
However, they saw something that they had no idea of how rare it was. It was rumored that whoever the Wretched Egg was was a sadistic and evil person that would kill for fun, or out of boredom, or for sick pleasure. What they saw defied all of that. As Ares was struggling to stay awake from the lack of energy, he fully expected to be killed by his opponent, as did everyone did. The Wretched Egg even went as far as to kill the guards that tried to intervene with tranquilizer guns from a distance.
When all thought this was the end, the Wretched Egg lifted his mask to reveal a young, albino GIRL?! If that wasn't a shocker, she even bent down to him and placed a comforting hand on his heart, all the while her mouth was constantly moving, as if she was singing a song. A soft, red glow around the area healed Ares' wounds. She gave him what was a very scary and sadistic grin, and yet, instead of cowering, he matched hers with his own shark-toothed grin. Even as he passed out, his white-toothed grin was still there.
After that day, things seemed to have had changed for the better, even as more and more Deadmen were discovered. The next three fights ended with him underestimating his own power since he was use to fighting against the Wretched Egg and killing his opponents. Since the quantity of Deadmen was an unknown variable, they were forced to use armed interventions to stop him from killing his opponents if necessary. They had to work extra hard whenever he fought against women of mature age, if you know what I mean. After all, fighting to the death gets your body excited in more ways than one.
However, since he only ever fought at mid-night hours and once every one or two months, many of the Deadmen forgot about him, not even remembering his name. It's been that way since.
"Hey, Tatsuki-chan, you looked like you ran a marathon," one of the cooks joked. His name was Saionji, the one who had suggested locking Ares up and letting him die. Now, he was a dedicated cook who could make a mean turkey dressing on Thanksgiving Day. Though the practice of American holidays in Japan was very uncommon, they did it for the sake of making Ares fill more at home. They, even the special guards, were all basically the man's guardians.
Ares has done alot for everyone here. It was also thanks to the research and breakthroughs from studying Ares' regeneration that the doctors were able to save Saionji's legs from being amputated. There were similar cases, including vaccinations from certain viruses, that helped the workers here. Ares was taking care of them just as much as they were him.
Everyone enjoyed it too. The job had good pay, lively associates, and no-one day was ever the same.
"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little winded today, that's all." He looked at her for a moment before shrugging and resume cleaning the dishes she'd just brought in. "By the way, Ares said that breakfast today tasted better then usual."
That put a smile on the man. "Is that so? I made it the same as usual."
She giggled. "I think he knows that. He asked me if I did something with it." Saionji feigned having his feelings hurt by the jab to his skills.
"Harsh," a woman walking in spoke up as if she'd been in the conversation the whole time. She was Moami Kurtis, Tatsuki's closest companion in this joint. "He's not even in the same room and he's able to throw a mean punch. It'll be okay, Saionji-kun. I'll make sure to get an apology from him at mid-lunch."
Moami shook her head a little to get her short, mint-green hair to flow more smoothly. "You dyed it!?" Tatsuki blurted in shock.
The young woman smiled with some mischief. "Yeah, what do ya think? It's a cool look to balance out Ares' hot hair," she said without shame.
Comments like those would've made everyone gasp or question her sanity four-maybe five years ago, but now, it wasn't anything new. Even if she was like seven years older than Ares, according to her, he turned to a 'grade-A hunk of beef'. Everyone got use to it since she never tried to get in his pants for real, so all assumed she was just trying to not think about the thought of her impending 30th birthday. It was said as a myth that if a maiden couldn't find a husband before she was thirty, then she'd never find one.
Tatsuki made a note to keep an extra eye on her just in case the woman got too desperate. Though no one has ever propositioned to Ares, they kept by the rules for their own safety. However, that didn't stop him from growing into a handsome young man, and it surely didn't stop a few of the women who've seen him to not joke or consider the consequences of trying to be intimate with him.
As Moami kept on wondering aloud about what Ares would think of her new look, Tatsuki let out a huge sigh at the silliness. Memories of what she had just did ten minutes ago popped up to call her a hypocrite and she gained a furious blush.
'But that wasn't anything lustful. Despite being studied on and made to participate in fights to the death, he's a gentlemen when you get on his good side. He earned it!' or so she tried to convince herself.
Letting out another sigh, she stored the cart with the other two in the corner of the supply closet so they could get it later. The tv hanging from the corner of the kitchen's ceiling came to life as the Carnival of Corpses' preview of tomorrow's match-up were shown. The Adonis that was Senji, aka 'Crow,' was going to be facing a newbie, some kid called 'Woodpecker.' He name was Ganta Igarashi.
"Hey, I heard about that kid?" Saionji shouted. "He's that middle school kid who was tried for killing his whole class, including the teacher."
"What?"
"That's horrifying!"
"How could one kid kill an entire class of his peers and an adult?" Tatsuki asked. There must have been some kind of mistake with the investigation.
"No, it's true. Someone secretly filmed him admitting to his lawyer about what he did. He said he'd show them the murder weapon if he was found not guilty."
"Man, that's twisted.."
Tatsuki ignored the gossiping crew and prepared herself for her next chore. She checked her watch and noted that it was 8:35 pm. Her shift would end at 4 am, the time when Ares' cell would close and his sleep cycle would begin. Sleep during the day and walk about at night. It was difficult at first to get use to the new schedule for everyone, but after so long, it was second nature. She had slept her bit during the day and was ready to tackle it. After all, taking care of Ares required a full staff and was a 24 hr job.
BMPH! BMPH! B-BMP-BMPH!
Left. Right. Left. Left. Cross-right. Upper-cut. Snap kick with the right! Re-position right foot, spin into left back-elbow! Hop back for distance. Triple left jab. Hard right straight! Front kick. Ready hands together...ghost butterfly thrust!
POW!
Ares felt the concrete shatter to pieces inside of the heavy bag after that last technique. He has in an leaning forward stance with his arms straighten out, his palms exposed and wrists together. It was a technique he learned back before the Red Hole Earthquake, before he met Wretched Egg. It was a blow that could rupture one's insides without breaking skin.
As the heavy bag slowly twisted, he saw the stuffing and cover torn on the backside of where he hit it. Small chunks of concrete was tumbling out of it slowly.
"Dang. I was only on it for 40 minutes this time."
'Well, I guess that's as good a place to stop as any. I'll let the guards know that it broke.'
He had been hard at work ever since Tatsuki left. First, it was a warm-up session to stretch and get limber. The next twenty minutes were dumbbell workouts for his legs and gluts After that, he hoped up and did ten sets of as many pull-ups as he could til he dropped. 83 the first time, then he managed to stay within to high sixties for the rest of the sets. That's when he decided to get some play time on his heavy bag.
Now, his body glistened with sweat and the room reeked of his body odor. He had a few built-in ceiling fans that circulated the air constantly. It helped ALOT, especially for his sensitive nose. His bandages were sweaty, but were stubbornly hanging on. They were a very unique type of bandages, in that they were practically built to last a life-time. They formed and fitted along his body and muscles like a second layer of skin. He had to get them ever since his first fight with Wretched Egg. He's had these same ones on for several years already.
Thank God they can be scrubbed clean while on his body.
Walking over to his bed, he picked up a two-gallon water jug that was basically water with electrolytes. He lifts it to his maw and chugs it for a few moments before setting it back down.
"Aaahhhhh, that feels good. Time to get all this sweat off me. I've got twenty minutes before I've got to eat again." His stomach growls to second that motion.
Stepping in his bathroom, he shed his clothes like a snake shedding its skin and stepped into the shower. It was made of steel as well, about four feet wide and eight feet tall. He closed the door that had several latches to seal it shut tight. It was made of some pretty tough glass to let some light through. Instead of shower heads or hoses, this room had a dozen nozzles built into the walls, pointing down at him from a different angle. In short, when he turns it on, he's gonna get blasted with water from all sides.
He pushed the green button that turns it on and slides a knob over to set the temperature to his liking. He always started with cold water, then he'd turn it up to a temp hot enough to sooth his muscles. The 40 degree water shot out like a pressure washer and began soaking him. He let out a stuttering exhale as his breath left him.
'I never get use to that,' he mused. On the side of the wall, there was a shelf with four articles of hygiene: a bottle of shampoo, a bottle of conditioner, a bar of anti-bacterial soap (like he needed it, but it's to clean his body), and a wash cloth. He grabbed the first one and poured some of its "reinvigorating and moisturizing" contents onto his scalp and began scrubbing furiously with his fingers.
Next up was the conditioner. He felt his fingers pull a hair or two but it all went just as smoothly. Grabbing the washcloth, he rubbed the bar of soap onto it and began scrubbing the crud and dirt from his body's pores til he felt content. His eyes remained closed the entire time, but after countless repetitions of this ritual, he'd memorized where everything was so the water spray wouldn't irritate his eyes.
After he was done, he adjusted the temperature to 102 degrees. The change was always quick but he's long since gotten use to it. His body soon became like jell-o from the hot water soaking his body. Taking a seat on the floor with his back to the wall, he rested his mind as the water released all of the tension and knots in his muscular system. Peacefully, he dozed off.
When he awoken again, he turned the water off, released the door latches, and step out. Grabbing a towel and attempting to dry himself off, he came out of the bathroom and into the wide expanse of his room. As he dried off most of his body and got dressed, Tatsuki came in on schedule with his second meal. However, he noticed she was acting more timid then usual, probably because of the kiss she'd planted on his cheek.
"Hey, Tatsuki. Everything alright?" He tried not to make her uncomfortable, hoping just idle chatter would loosen the young woman up.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine, Ares-kun," she replied weakly. He briefly wondered what that new suffix to his name was but figured it's just another Japanese thing.
She rolled the cart up to his bedside where he was sitting and displayed the trays of fruits, vegetables, and protein-filled foods. He noted the large carrots, probably from the small gardens they have, and picked one of them up first. Biting into it, he "Mmmmm" over the crunching sounds of the carrot in his mouth.
"I wonder what the other prisoners eat? Since I'm apparently the worse one of them, I bet their foods are much higher-class then mine.''
Oh, how blissfully unaware you are, Ares. Tatsuki giggled, the first sign of her old self since she came back in here. "You're actually about even with everyone else, Ares-kun."
He honestly looked surprised for a moment. "Really?"
"Yes, well, since you've provided the scientists with much of your...body," she grimaces at the word usage, "and you did so cooperatively since the beginning, and because you basically win all of your fights yet have so much of your freedom restricted by both protocols and your BoS, all of us who tend to you believe it's a fair trade off if we were to provide you with fresh meals. Plus, you don't ever use much of your Cast Points like the prisoners do, so that's another bit."
He'd a brow raised, clearly only hearing about the difference in treatment for the first time.
"Well, I guess Karma's been good to me. Where would I be without you all?" He was already on his fifth carrot now and not slowing down.
"Yes, well, the research on you has had a direct effect on most of us as well, such as some vaccines and limb replacements to name a few,' she claimed with a soft smile. "You reap what you sow, and you've been nothing but good to us, despite the obvious danger that you possess."
Ares frowned at the last part. "I know what I am. My mind is still human, yet my instincts are completely that of a predatory animal. I could lose to my instincts any moment because of a slight misunderstanding or someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's a curse as much as it's a blessing."
Hearing him say that for the first time plucked at Tatsuki's heartstrings. She couldn't stop herself from giving him a tight hug around his neck.
"You're not a curse, Ares-kun. You're a blessing to our research teams, to us, and you're an honest, sincere, young man. None of us could think anything less then that of you whether you like it or not," she assured.
Ares was again surprised by the affectionate side she was showing today, slowly becoming more aware of the effect it was having on him feeling her breasts through her shirt against his collar bone. The animal's voice inside his mind was growling and becoming aroused, yelling for him to claim her there and now, so he'd have to end the contact before he loses himself.
"Tatsuki, the effect you're having on me is straining my willpower," he muttered.
"OH!" she immediately released her hug and stepped back a couple of feet to give the young adult some space. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. I think I'll be good." Hoping to take his mind off of the scandalous, dirty images his other mind is sending him about a certain woman, he reminds himself that he has to finish his meals.
He eats and finishes his food in uncomfortable silence, Tatsuki just silently watching the tormented prisoner. She couldn't imagine how it must feel to be trapped within not one, but two prisons at the same time for so long.
When he finished, he thanked her in a solemn voice and she rolled the food cart back to the kitchen. He sat there, contemplating what had happened, before just throwing it to the side like he's had to do with alot of other stuff. Two feet to the left of his bed, on the the wall, is a small coat hook. He walked over to it and grabbed his two articles of actual clothing.
He tried the shorts and pants of the uni-formal clothes, but he'd ended up chewing them to pieces. Eventually, they allowed him to have his own choice of clothing. He'd tried many, but eventually found what felt best for him. Ironically, it was of Japanese lineage. The bottoms was the bottoms of a black yukata garb. The 'shorts' came to the bottom half of his shins and were very billowy, giving him plenty of free range of motion.
Already having his torso and chest wraps to qualify as a shirt, he slipped on his next article of clothing, which was a silk grey haori with black outlining it on all edges. It was sleeveless and very large, the tail of it coming down to his knees and billowing loosely. The tail was also tattered instead of a pristine edge, just like his arm slots. It matched the yukata bottoms that were held by a black obi-sash and it sorta balanced out his ineptitude with the Japanese culture and language. The haori showed all of his chest and most of his torso with the large opening it made as he never tightened it around his waist.
For his final clothing piece, he grabbed a brown, leather eye-patch. A piece of leather was all it was with a three-string head-wrap that came together behind his head.
Donning it, Ares now assumed his new persona, the one that always took over whenever he went out of his room to walk the halls of G-Block, or when he fought in the Carnival of Corpses. His Deadman call sign is the African Crowned Eagle, or ACE for short. And rightly so, as the African Crowned Eagle may not be the deadliest bird on the planet, but it is surely the most aggressive, which would identify his battle persona and anti-social habits.
Making sure to take his water jug to hydrate his body, Ares clipped it to his obi sash on his waist and pushed the button to open the large door. Unseen by anybody, but still known by him and his guardians, a signal went out to the security monitor of the special division that is tasked with watching over him. The man monitoring the movements looked at the screen when he got the signal and saw Ares walking it. The Deadman gave the small camera a nod before continuing down the dimly lit hallway, following the path of dark, red lights at the corners of the floor.
As Ares made his way close to the entrance to the rest of G-Block, three guards in heavy knife proof, ballistic, and Kevlar armor and with 17 mm semi-automatic rifles locked and loaded. Those rifles were designed specifically to put a baseball-sized hole in his chest. Despite the intimidating appearance, he wasn't bothered by them. They were his regular security detail that would shadow his movements more for the protection of everyone else instead of him.
"Morning Takashima, Hyotei, Kensei," Ares greeted casually. The three men lowered the rifle muzzles down a few inches. They would've waved, but those guns weighed 22 lbs, so it was a little difficult.
"Morning? Yeah, good one, Ares-san. It's almost 11 p.m." came a sleepy reply from a normally gruff Kensei, the tallest of the detail, standing at 6'2 with full armor.
"Yeah, well it's all the same to me," he shot back with a smirk.
"Speak for yourself," replied the yawing voice of Hyotei. He was the shortest of the two, standing about 5'9 with the armor. He slapped his left hand against a green panel which opened the door to G-Block that was just as big as the one at Ares' room. Slowly, the door opened from the middle to the sides, flooding the hallway with a bright light.
"Dang, I'm never gonna get use to that," he grumbled as he shielded his uncovered eye with his hand.
A low rumble in his throat that resembled a snarl crawled from his mouth. The door now fully opened, his companions told him to enjoy his walk which he just grumbled, now showing his more rough personality. The guards didn't take it personal; they were by far use to it by now.
Stepping into the brightly-lit building complex that housed the rest of the Deadmen, he noticed that the halls were quiet, a natural characteristic since he operated on a different time scale then the rest of the inmates. There shouldn't be but a handful of Deadmen up and about.
Walking quietly down the curved hallways, his lack of noise betraying his large frame, he entered the cafeteria area, a place one could go to purchase and eat their food if they didn't wish to have it delivered. He humored the thought of eating here and telling them to tell Saionji his reason for being full. The man would probably be heart-broken.
He continued his walk in relative peace, traversing from the bottom level up. At one point, he came across one of the large Undertakers, a bear-sized fella by the name of Mozuri Gazuchi. The two gave each other a knowing nod, their own form of greeting. Mozuri was more animal then human, almost like Ares, thus he was susceptible to the animal kingdom's food chain. The two fought once before and Ares showed him his place. He was now respected and feared by the Undertaker, like the rest of them were. Though only one who seemed to accept Ares' violent behavior was a recently admitted Undertaker by the name of Genkaku, who was strange, even by his standards.
The rest of the walk in more tranquil peace, the only noises coming from the steps of the guards 50 yds away and the television sets that he passed by. He never bothered to get a TV in his own room. Lord knows, he'd probably end up breaking it to pieces.
"Be sure to tune in, folks, for tomorrow's fight. The veteran, Crow, will be breaking in the new bird in the cage, Woodpecker!"
Ares tilted his head up to the TV to see for himself. Yep, Crow was taking on a newbie. He'd fought the man once and admired his fighting prowess as a fellow warrior, however, to hear him being reduced to fighting a greenhorn was surprising.
"Hah! No way am I gonna let Crow live this down. I'll give'em a piece of my mind next time I see him."
The rest of the walk goes by without any events as usual, just a couple of Deadmen out and about and giving him a weird look, one he replied with a snarl that sent them running. Eventually, it's time to go back to his cell in time for his next meal. Tatsuki was his waitress for today, he figured, since that silly Moami hadn't come by today.
He ate his meal and manage to start some more conversation with Tatsuki; the girl appeared to have regained herself, as he had his urges. After that meal, he let her know that he would like a replacement heavy bag, much to her shock, and afterwards, he continued the rest of the day lifting weights, going out for another walk, then another shower.
As he laid back in his bed, he sighed in boredom as the alarm came on to alert anyone nearby that the cell would be starting the 16 hr lockdown period for his nap.
"Just another day in DW," he muttered as sleep overcame him. Strangely enough, the last image he could recall in his mind was the face of Wretched Egg when she'd sung that lullaby to him after his second loss.
A/N: Well, that's the beginning of this new story. For future reference, some other authors' OCs will be appearing here as well to fill in some Deadman vacancies. There will be plot twists as all is not as it will be in canon. Please review. If you have any complaints, please be respectful about it and I'll see if it's anything I can fix. If not, then that's just a character flaw that makes me who I am. If you like my OC's Branch of Sin, you don't even know the half of it yet. Being made a Deadman, the SECOND ONE, by the Progenitor herself has plenty of perks.
The pairings are undecided, and don't think that because some of the women find Ares attractive that this will automatically be an OC harem. I think I've got enough of those in the making at the moment. I did kinda rush the ending there a bit, but that's because I don't know when I'll get the time to write on here again. Probably in a week or two since I've got finals and some big research projects coming up.