I do not own any part of the Black Lagoon franchise, story or character ideas.
This is a piece of fan fiction created purely for entertainment purposes.
All copyrights are properties of their respective owners.
'The Diary of an Ex-Businessman'
A Black Lagoon Fan Fiction
Chapter 8 – 'Hell Hath No Fury…'
As the lower hemisphere of the sun's perfect, bright saffron circumference began to dip into the horizon that linked into the South China Sea, it radiated a pleasant glow that bathed everything it could touch in a small but much appreciated warmth; being close to the equator, nobody would expect anything less. The rays broke through the open blinds of the office, illuminating the dancing dust particles that hung in the musky air. It was a sight that Dutch was thankful for, as the boring white light hanging from the ceiling only gave the room a dull and boring ambience, if it could even be called that. Through the minutely opened window, he could hear the seagulls caw, the waves lap gently against the dock walls, and then he let it all be drowned out by the repetitive and amplified clicking of Benny's keyboard.
"You've been typing non-stop for ten minutes, Benny boy. Why don't you give it a rest?" Dutch didn't take his focus off the automobile magazine being supported by his large hands.
Benny was sat behind Dutch, their backs facing each other on either side of a two-metre gap. "You kidding?" Benny began, "These fingers have got the stamina of a marathon runner. If I had to, I could type for five days straight."
Dutch briefly flashed a wicked smile. "You can put them to better use, you know. You do have a girlfriend after all, if you get my drift." His tone was low and deep, as if to imitate a Barry White song. As he'd finished talking, he knew he'd hit a nerve as he heard a short but sudden cessation to the tapping of keys.
"There's one problem with that, Dutch." Benny continued typing, hearing Dutch hum to indicate that his attention was on the technophile. "She's not here. Who do you think I'm talking to right now? People like me don't just use these things for breaching firewalls and writing virus code, you know."
Dutch scoffed in response, "Long distance relationships…" he shook his head as he continued to read, "I could never get used to those."
Benny shrugged his shoulders at the remark; "It's okay if you talk on a regular basis; say, a few times a week. But in the end, it's all about trust. How ironic, trust is the one thing you can't find in a place like this."
"I wouldn't say that", Dutch said as he let the magazine fall onto his open lap, "Sure you get the occasional bastard who chooses to slide a dagger into your back for a few large green, but there are a few rare gems that you can count on."
Dutch's train of thought was cut off by the sound of heavy boots against the plastered floor. He swivelled his head to the left and caught the thin figure of Roanapur's resident hothead in his peripheral vision.
"So, you calmed down now?" Dutch asked out the side of his neck. All he got in response was a mid-toned grunt as the woman walked between the two men and towards the fridge, causing the reclining ebony man to flicker a smile. He looked at the wall straight ahead of him and brought his arms up, letting his hands rest behind his head and interlock their fingers.
"Can I make a suggestion?" Dutch asked to the end of the room, intending for his employee to hear him. The only response he got was that of the fridge door contents knocking against each other, creating some dull metallic chinks.
It had been almost four years since Revy had joined Dutch and made his courier company dream a true possibility. He knew better than anybody that silence from her meant she was either going to kill somebody, or she was too wound up in her own thoughts to care about anything else that happened in her surroundings. The former was the usual cause, but she sometimes exhibited some traits that made the latter a better reason. The biggest difference was that she'd actually exercise her vocal chords, albeit in extreme moderation, if she had something on her mind. If she were on the warpath, she'd be as mute as Sawyer when she didn't have her Ultravoice.
Just as she had swung the door closed with a light flick of her fingers did Dutch answer his own question, "Get some rest. You barely slept the whole time we were away." He heard the light rustling of plastic wrap moving behind him from his right ear to his left, indicating she must have picked up some of the leftovers that had been sat in there ever since they'd left for their job, and was heading back to her room with it.
"You don't want that," he began, "there's some Chow Mein on the way. It's sure not haute cuisine, but it's better than whatever crap you've got in your hand right now." He heard the footsteps come to a halt down the corridor, but nothing to indicate any additional movement, like she may have turned around.
"I'm fine with this." Revy replied with a deep and croaky vocal sigh over her left shoulder. "I don't give two shits what it is, I'm just fuckin' hungry." With that, she continued pacing back to the room, quietly sliding the door closed behind her.
There was a short silence, aside from the keyboard, before Benny initiated another conversation topic. "She's still pissed about the lipstick", he said in the direction of the monitor, as if he was talking to it rather than Dutch.
Dutch hummed in agreement. "Let's leave it for the moment. Revy just needs time to cool down." It was only now that Dutch realised the sunlight that once gave the room it's calming tint had bled away through any wall cracks it could have found. He took a glance out the window and saw the very tip of the final saffron tangent submerge itself into the blackening sea line. He could swear that he saw the rare 'green flash' as the darkness began to creep over the cityscape.
He shifted his weight forward in his chair and allowed the momentum to lift him back up to his feet. He turned on his heel to face Benny, who still had his back to him. "It may be a bit soon to hit the sack, but I've gotta be up early tomorrow. The Ripoff Church called before our job about our latest order; didn't have time to pick it up before we left. I'd like to get down there early so they don't start handing out freebies to God knows who with products I spent our hard-earned cash on."
Benny nodded since his lips were preoccupied as they wrapped themselves around the rim of a newly opened beer can. He made a short sigh of refreshment as he pulled the can away before replying, "That's a decent plan. I'm almost in the same boat. I ordered a few things and they said today would be the earliest they'd arrive. Can't hurt to go up there and check, can it? So I suppose that leaves Revy in charge of Rock-sitting…again."
Dutch lightly snickered, "Looks like it." Benny finally ceased his typing as the computer monitor died and displayed only a jet-black screen. He turned around and met Dutch's eyes through his sunglasses with his own look of concern, "Can we really trust her to look out for him?" his voice had lost its volume, but not enough so that it became a whisper, "she hasn't been right since…well…you know. And what happened earlier really knocked her off centre."
Dutch didn't show any response in his body language, he just opened his mouth to respond for the last time that night, "You know as well as I do that she won't talk to me about whatever her problem is. Maybe she sees a confidant in Rock, he's unconscious, so he won't know jack shit when…if…he wakes his ass up. What those two did was probably just to see if they could make us tick; but thinking about it in more detail, Rock's a rare thing to happen to this city: a mostly pure hearted guy with good causes and a pretty clean nose. Sometimes, it's that image of purity that some people want to keep with them; maybe those girls simply have a thing for him because he's a total opposite of what they are, not to mention…I suppose you could call him a looker in his own unique way. I don't have a damn clue; it's all speculation on my part. As for Revy, I can trust her not to do anything stupid. She is my employee after all; I wouldn't appreciate her wasting him right now, otherwise she'd be looking for a new job."
Benny tried to take in everything Dutch had just explained, with not much success because he was focussed more on his hair, which was perfectly reflected in Dutch's sunglass lenses. Despite that, he knew that Dutch only spoke such long essays because he had a good reason to, and that was good enough for him. Because of this, Benny only looked off to the wall on his left and nodded his head. His reward for the reaction was a slight pat on his right shoulder from the towering American stood before him.
"See you tomorrow. You can have the takeaways, and don't forget to offer Revy some as well." Dutch waved the back of his hand to the blonde as he headed down the corridor. Benny shrugged his shoulders before returning the gesture, "'Night."
Revy was sat in what she had now deemed to be her usual position: leaning back in the hard wooden chair next to Rock's bed on the rear two legs, with the diary in her left hand and a beer in her right. The only difference to the scene this time was the plate of stale, half-eaten pizza slices sat on the desk next to her right arm. While she'd fished the diary out of the draw to start reading once more, she couldn't help but overhear Dutch and Benny's 'insightful' conversation about her. She heard Dutch's long-winded speech and shook her head in blatant denial. But even as she continued the movement, she began to feel like she was in denial about the denial itself. It only confused her more, so she decided to think no more of it.
"Makes me wonder…" she murmured as she took a swig out of the condensed can, "…how you really woulda' reacted if you knew a crazy bitch who tried to cut you up a few months ago went and planted a wet one on your face. I bet she woulda' fuckin' molested you if we hadn't got back when we did. It's fucked up, man." She shook her head and took another quick drink before letting her eyes fall back down onto her newly saved page. "Hell, lookin' at how stiff you always are, you'd take whatever piece of ass you could get without batting a fuckin' eyelid."
Finally shifting her concentration from creating speech to reading text, she began to go slowly over Rock's next entry:
"If you've never been to Japan, I'll tell you that it is a mostly male dominated society. While women in superior positions of power are not uncommon (company executives, etc.), they are still quite few and far between. Take marriage as an example. If a Japanese couple wed, the woman is, from then on, generally expected to become a 9-to-5 housewife, while the husband provides the income. While I had no qualms about that lifestyle, what with being a man living in it, I can genuinely say that I am glad to experience another society (if it can even be called that) that has at least some mutual diversity.
In an ironic role reversal, the person who beats me up the most these days is in fact a woman. She's about 5'9", with green eyes like a fully developed rice field, and maroon hair that can give matured red wine a run for its money. Her features are that of eastern descent, but not as defined as my own, owing to her American side. And her figure…I bet I'll regret saying this later, but she is in fact quite striking. She's slim and toned, but not as strung-out as a supermodel or as bulky as a health nut; if I absolutely had to, I'd actually say she's an attractive young woman."
Revy raised her eyebrows in mild surprise at the remark as she flashed another quick glance at her near-dead company. Did Rock just compliment her on her appearance? She knew Rock wasn't the kind to sit and stare, so he must have caught quick glances at her when he knew she wouldn't notice.
"You sick bastard", she muttered ungratefully with underlying contempt.
"Her arms are sleek but powerful, attached to which are fingers that can end a life; her legs can move her at a speed equal to one of her own bullets, and jump her across distances Olympic long jumpers could only dream of (if you don't believe me, refer back to the part with Luak). Apart from that, all I know is that she's called Revy…and she will be the death of me."
"Damn, I was tryin' not to give my plans away", her remark was not without a sarcastic undertone as she lightly shook her head once more.
"Revy…it's an interesting name. As a given name it's one I've never heard of, maybe it's something to do with the Chinese community. It could be a nickname for something, but I don't see the point in chasing it since we all like to keep our personal aspects private (bar myself, who's history is news to almost nobody anymore)."
"Too true", she agreed as she bit into one of the stale and almost rock-solid pizza slices. Her face muscles constricted, twisting her face into a look of disgust; she suddenly wished she'd accepted the takeaway offer. But it was her own decision, so she decided to persist. She swallowed the hard and sticky dough with a visible wince before carrying on with her observation, "With everything you kept lettin' out, I think I know your life better than you do by now."
"From my experiences as of recent events, I see that Revy is both easy to read, but is a total enigma at the same time, so it's likely that all I'm seeing of her is only what she wants me to see. Her most outstanding traits are her temper and her selfishness: the former has already brought me near death numerous times, and the latter is what roused me to begin our…talk…on the submarine. Consequence doesn't faze her; she lets her mind be known anywhere and anytime, regardless of the person or their authority…except maybe Ms. Balalaika. Gathering what I could from the things she said while we were on that sub, pity and sympathy are things she despises; it was never given to her during her childhood (that's all I can assume from her words), and so she doesn't see why she should bestow it upon others. This is the most likely reason for why she seems to have a hard time accepting me, although I accept that my own invariable whining about my own minute hardships are probably the main cause of such disapproval. But looking at it from a normal person's point of view, the sudden and dramatic change in lifestyles should certainly be enough to garner some kind of compassion. I can only assume that the suffering I've endured so far compared to her is like comparing a pinprick to being impaled with a metal pole."
"So that's when you thought you started to understand me better, huh?" she let out a sharp scoff and rolled her eyes, "Took you long enough."
"Revy has become colder in the few days that have passed since she and Dutch safely returned from the Nazi cargo ship. I'm barely given the time of day to converse with her, and it's as if she has almost renounced my existence, just like someone else I used to know. I don't understand it; people in this world change too fast, and I can't keep up. How am I supposed to know what things are my responsibility if nobody ever informs me? It was because I dropped the painting wasn't it? If I had just held on…we wouldn't have taken 8 hours longer than was necessary. I suppose I truly was the idiot there…but I'm not apologising."
"Yeah, and just look at what happened when you said that to my face." Her mind flashed back images of the scuffle outside the restaurant all those months ago: the gun, the single echoing shot, his bleeding forehead, the punch…the cigarette in the back of the police car. Unbeknownst to Rock, Revy's respect for him minutely grew after that incident, she was grateful that the white-collar who pissed and moaned about everything that didn't go his way finally grew a pair and confronted her, despite the fact that she reacted in a way that the phrase 'over the top' could never live up to.
"Everybody makes mistakes, and this was just another to be added to my ever-expanding list of screw-ups. I'm not like her, she knows this, and yet she expects me to keep my head in the middle of a gunfight. I don't know anything about guns, and I'm not a mariner by nature, I'm just a pencil-pushing, ass kissing ex-businessman. Actually, looking back on that day, I don't think the painting had anything to do with it at all. We got it back eventually, but she was still in her 'killer mode', as I've decided to call it. I have a feeling that what we talked about down there is something she has extremely hard feelings about right now. I'd say she needs time; but then again, time is all we have in this city. It'll be as helpful as adding ice to water down a glass that's already full of water."
Revy sighed at the last couple of sentences. "Like I said, Rock, you were the only person to hear what I told you in that rusting tin can. After that, I couldn't trust you to keep your mouth shut. Other than that, you kept harassing me with your 'goody two-shoes' philosophy. If I hadn't said anything, you wouldn't a' shut your trap. And then I'd have to kill you." Just like the few times before, her voice epitomised her newly trademarked 'killer mode'.
"Just a few minutes ago, she yelled at me about something, but I wasn't paying attention, I was too focussed on her face. For a second, I didn't see Revy, I saw Kageyama: that demonic, scheming monster…the one who discarded me like yesterday's newspaper, like a used tissue…like a redundant employee. I'm just beginning to understand the world now. Dominance overrules everything; if you can't act high and mighty over somebody, it means you probably have no place here. The glares she shoots my way say enough about her thoughts. Her eyes have permanently frozen and moulded themselves into those vast pits of nothingness; there's no 'rice field green' in those irises anymore, just complete darkness and a burning intent to maim and kill. I have a feeling that I won't be here much longer, even I can tell I'm her next target, and she wants me to give her a reason to kill me."
"Ha!" she scoffed aloud, letting it mildly resonate through the walls, "I already had three reasons before the goddamn restaurant", and she laughed to herself in a lower volume.
She felt her eyes start to droop as Dutch's earlier advice rang in her head. He was right, during most of the time spent during the previous job, all she had done was complain about the two women that Chang had put in charge of Rock's care, rather than take an hour or two to get some shut eye. Her first qualm was about her lack of trust in them, second it was about how Dutch somehow possessed the trust she lacked despite recent events (namely the whole 'burning down the warehouse' lark), and thirdly it was about how utterly and mind-numbingly boring the job had been. She actually started moaning about the latter as soon they had arrived to pick up the cargo from their Chinese contacts, much to the chagrin of said contacts. And the whole confusion surrounding 'that fuckin' lipstick', as she referred to it, just made her synapses fire off even more after they had returned.
She was worn down, and she realised she'd only taken that one bite from the dead cold pizza lying on the plate next to her. She'd only get some energy back if she slept, which is what she decided was the best plan of action for the rest of the night.
"Maybe I should put myself in a coma", she mumbled to the bed as she turned to face the desk head on, "then I can sleep for as long as I want. And as a bonus…" she picked up a crumpled can next to her right forearm and threw it at the sack of meat on her left. It accurately landed on Rock's chest and rolled onto his other side and out of her view before she finished the sentence, "…I wouldn't have to put up with your shit either." She finished her comment with a self-satisfied grin as she slammed the diary closed and flung it back into its draw.
She let her arms slide parallel to each other on the desk surface and slumped her body forward to let her head fall onto them, using them as a makeshift pillow. Her head was turned back to the door, and she just had time to recognise the shift from light to darkness in the corridor, indicating that Benny must have flicked the switch off. Slowly but surely, the weight on her eyes proved victorious as she gradually fell into her own dream world.
The next morning, the sun looked as if it had been reborn, like a Phoenix from its own deceased ashes. Its luminescence carried a blinding bright yellow hue similar to the head of a healthy daffodil.
The time: 9:16am.
Even at the early hour, the intense glow of the suspended orb against the cloudless azure sky carried a heat that some believed could boil water if it were left out on the sidewalk; heck, some people even tried it with thin sheet metal buckets lying beside their doorstep.
The atmospheric room temperature: 81°F
Even as she lay in the shade, slumped over the desk, Revy's skin was covered in a thin, sticky sheen of sweat and condensation formed from her surprisingly low surface temperature and the humid air engulfing her. Every few minutes she would squirm to find a position that felt a little less uncomfortable, but it was all in vain as her bangs began to endlessly tickle her nose as the sweat kept the thin strands of hair glued to her forehead. As much as she tried to resist, her impatience won over her need for sleep and she abruptly swept a hand across her eyes, swatting away the annoying follicles. She finally brought herself to open her eyes, albeit slowly, and take notice of her surroundings. As she lifted her head off her bare forearms, it felt like her skin was being peeled away like a piece of adhesive tape. She recognised the door, the desk draw just below the line of her right thigh, and the row of bullet holes that traced the top of the doorframe.
She swivelled her head to her left and saw Rock's body, 'stiff as ever'. She tensed her lips together in slight jealousy and frowned as she looked at the nearest corner of his mouth; it was still turned slightly upward as if he was smiling…even possibly mocking. She slid the chair back along the floor, making it give off a light scratching sound, and stood up. She pushed her arms out in front of her and interlocked her fingers with her palms forward, stretching out her triceps, and then her abdomen as she raised her arms high above her head. The movement was accompanied with a yawn, which itself was coupled with a completely incoherent utterance.
As her arms flopped down to her sides, briefly rattling her prized pistols, she heard the office door close some distance away. Footsteps soon followed the sound; they were boots, and the wearer must have had a lot of bulk as each footfall echoed through the whole office, even against the hard plastered floor.
The first voice she heard through the door beside her was Benny's, "'Sup?"
She ignored the conversation to turn back to Rock. Despite his inactivity, he was also covered in a slight veneer of his own essence. Revy shrugged her shoulders, "Yeah, I know it's hot. But don't think you're gonna get special treatment 'cause you're playin' dead. I'd pour water over you, but I'm afraid you might drown in it", she added a hint of mockery to the second sentence.
It was only then that she realised that her sleep was totally devoid of any dreams whatsoever. Over the course of the whole night: nothing. Not a single ridiculous scenario that her mind's eye had tried to conjure up for her viewing pleasure. There were no hints of a monster Rock, there was just darkness. At that moment, she regretted waking up as she started to imagine how peaceful her night must have been. But there was nothing she could do now, and so she forced her mind back into reality.
She began her slow and flat-footed approach to the door, but stopped once she heard an incoherent mumble from Dutch, but it was Benny's response that roused her suspicions, "Aw jeez…" his voice carried more annoyance than worry, "…she'll go over the damn edge if she finds that out."
She tightened her jaw and raised a single eyebrow at Benny's remark. She had a dying urge to burst out the room and force it out of the Hawaiian shirt lover, 'I don't like unpleasant surprises', she thought to herself, 'but they'll never tell me if I ask them.'
It suddenly hit her at that moment that that was how both Dutch and Rock must have felt if they wanted to ask her a question. If they asked her something she'd rather keep private, then she'd either cement her lips until they gave up, or she'd threaten them to mind their own business. In a manner of speaking, she was now getting a proverbial taste of her own medicine.
She sighed in submission as she slowly pulled the door toward her. Leaving the door open behind her, she trundled down the corridor while scratching the back of her head with her left hand; her right hand lay motionless on her hip.
Upon hearing her footfalls, both men had turned to stare at her with apprehension written all over the creases of their brows. She met each of their eyes with her own multiple times before looking at the floor ahead of her.
"Morning, ladies" she greeted calmly, but out of character nonetheless, as she shouldered her way through her two companions and towards the fridge.
"I'm impressed" Dutch began. "You actually listened to me for once. See how refreshing a good nights sleep can be?" he folded his arms as he walked over to the window on the far side of the room.
"Refreshing? Gimme a fuckin' break." Revy's voice made its way round the fridge door and into Dutch's ear canals. "Wakin' up drenched in sweat sure as hell ain't my idea of refreshment!" She drew her head back from the fridge with a bottle of water in her hand and turned to face the men in her field of view.
"Can't you fork out a few hundred for a new AC? That fan doesn't work for shit…" she pointed up at the ceiling with her free index finger, "…and the unit in my room's FUBAR." She huffed as soon as she saw Dutch shake his head.
"No can do for the moment, Revy. We need almost every cent of what we got from the last job." Dutch's head never moved from its current position that looked out the window and over the bay.
"What the hell for?" Revy's voice carried blatant exasperation as she stared at the back of her employer's head with a distinct look of disdain, "Don't tell me you're gonna waste it on a figurehead for the goddamn boat." Dutch shook his head once again before turning round.
"First: I have to split it equally for your pay. As unfair as it is, Rock doesn't need any of it right now, so that means more for both of you." This made Revy lightly grunt in protest. "Second: I've gotta get new parts for the engine, you heard the vibrations on the way back. It shouldn't be making that kind of sound. Third: If I don't buy any fuel, then the Lagoon's going nowhere. And finally, we need some money to buy food. I figured that was a given."
Revy backed down with a light defeatist growl. Benny, meanwhile, was more focussed on the pixel-formed picture of Jane and him in front of a coastal background that sat in the bottom-left left corner of his computer monitor. They'd taken that shortly before she left to escape any remnants that the gang of the snide Mr. Elvis might have had left in the city. Benny hummed in realisation of what he had told Dutch the night before.
"Oh yeah, I need to go and see if that stuff arrived." He made his way towards the door before being stopped by Dutch's inquisitive voice. "You gonna take the car?"
Benny replied back over his shoulder, "Nah, it's a nice day out. Walking sure as hell can't hurt. See the both of you later." He waved behind him as the door began to mask his movement toward the staircase. Revy and Dutch just looked at each other as if they were trying to wordlessly interrogate one another.
Revy finally broke the silence in a bored tone, "So what are you doing? Working on the boat…again?" She held the bottle a few centimetres above her mouth and let the smooth, clean liquid fall down her gullet like a waterfall, all without ever touching her lips.
"I've got the few odd jobs to do about town. Nothing too serious, just need new batteries for the headsets and another mop for the brig, since you snapped the last one clean in two." Revy defiantly shrugged the blame off. "But I'm hoping that someone will offer us a job if they see me walking about like a depressed stockbroker. Calling Chang or Balalaika will just make us look desperate, which won't help our rep."
"So you're fuckin' pinning sleeping beauty on me again…" Revy didn't ask the man across from her, she just bellowed the obvious out into the room in a manner of extreme reluctance. However, Dutch didn't realise that her attitude disguised her inner feelings of partial joy.
'More secret diary time!' her thoughts wickedly pointed out.
"For the love of…" Dutch spluttered as he turned his head away. "Does being around him really piss you off that much? He's unconscious for Christ's sake." Despite the straightforward question, his voice didn't change volume or tone; he remained as calm and collected as ever. "Fine. I'll stay here, you go and get the goods."
Revy shook her head with a light laugh to show she was trying to cut him off, "I'm fuckin' with you, Dutch. Come on, it's not like I've got anything better to do with my time. Remember, if the job don't involve good marksmanship and shootin' bullets, you can give it to another dumb schmuck." She held her hands up with her palms facing towards the ceiling.
"Knowing you, you'd be drinking with the Ripoffs without a second thought." Dutch folded his arms as he made his observation.
Revy started to give her reason as she walked around the side of the couch in front of her and slump into the centre cushion, "Nah, not this time. Eda's been pissin' me off lately, and the last thing I need today is an egotistical nun trying to preach some shit about her 'Lord' to me while she's as off her face as Boris fuckin' Yeltsin."
"Yeltsin's dead, you know", Dutch subjectively pointed out.
Revy scoffed, "Yeah, and I'll make her the same if she can't keep her goddamn libido in check. I swear to God, Dutch, that penguin's gettin' desperate. She's only ever focussed on four things…" she held up her free hand in the form of a balled fist, and extended each of her fingers upward with each of the points that followed, "Booze, guns, cash and men."
Dutch smiled, he'd been given the obvious bait and couldn't resist taking it. "So she's just like you then?" He let out a tiny chuckle.
Revy's shoulders sagged in displeasure at the comparison. But she had to admit; she was always one for trying out a new weapon, shooting it at someone to get cash, and using the cash to buy booze.
"Okay, shut up. Scratch one off that list if you're gonna try and take the piss. I know men better than she does by a long shot. The fuckers can only think a' more ways to get a bitch pregnant so they can pass on whatever useless legacy they think they have to the next little brat, which is usually just a massive fuckin' debt. They're desperate, perverted assholes who'd throw away their money for twenty minutes with some diseased whore slumped on a street corner."
It was only then that her eyes slowly glided up from the table she was staring at during her monologue and into Dutch's sunglasses, just above which she could see a raised eyebrow. "No offence" she remorselessly added as she tipped her beer can in her boss' direction.
Dutch sighed before he calmly responded, "None taken."
They both remained in their positions for another thirty seconds of silence as both tried to think of a way to break the unnecessarily awkward atmosphere.
"So, you were goin' out for a walk?" Revy questioned uncaringly.
"I was." Dutch made his answer short and sweet as he headed for the door. He pulled the door towards himself, but froze as he turned to look at the back of his colleague's head for the last time, "And for the love of God, don't kill the patient."
Before Revy could spin on the couch and respond in an angered haste, the door was already slamming shut in Dutch's wake. She growled to herself as she tried to speak her peace, "Why the fuck would I do that? If I wanted to do it, I'd do it where people could see." She blurted at the floor around her boots, "But it's all Rock's fault anyway, he got himself knocked out in the first place. He left himself open."
She brought her right boot up and toe punted the underside of the table, causing an empty beer can to topple onto its side and roll over the far edge, landing on the hard floor with a small clatter. "Fuckin' bitches" she muttered as she stood up. She began to meander rather flat-footedly through the furniture ahead of her to get back to her room as she continued her disgruntled murmuring, "As soon as I know which of them did it, they'll find themselves pissin' out the side of their ass."
She walked back through the doorway and stopped as her eyes fell upon the source of her disgruntled attitude. "And just what the hell are you smiling about?" she pointed an accusing finger at Rock's head. "If you're undressing me with that sick mind of yours…" she paused to think of a threat, but moved to the chair with a loud sigh and a shake of the head as she felt her mind was still in its waking up stages, "…just shut up."
She stared at the seat in front of her left leg for a brief second before kicking it over out of the blue with almost no effort whatsoever. "Goddamn it! Even when you're half dead you still find a way to get on my fuckin' nerves! Only a freakin' know-it-all pussy like you could pull that off!" As was expected of an unconscious person, there was only deathly silence in response.
"You'd better wake up soon", she remarked in defiant defeat as she extended an arm out to reach for the toppled chair, "'Cause then you can explain everything about all the shit you've been writin' in here" she said, reaching back to the desk for the thick, black book.
Unfortunately, recent events and her reflections on bad times passed, coupled with the temperature and realisation of Rock's initial feelings of contempt towards her, were only fuelling Revy's distasteful mood.
She flicked the pages across until she came to the newest fold in the top-left corner. However, she wasn't going to read very far, because her invasion of his privacy was about to expel bad blood…
She began on the first sentence:
"Revy is a selfish…"
She could understand this. But her mind figured it was going to get rougher since it had started with an uncaring and heavily objective remark.
"…greedy…"
This she could also relate to . She was someone who was only focussed on the goods, and the U-Boat reminded her of that.
"…conniving…"
That one struck her as a little off, and it showed as she felt her ears heat up.
"…ungrateful…"
As every word carried a stronger insult, she could feel her heartbeat increase and her grip tighten around the book like a vice.
"…merciless…"
The heat from her ears began to seep under her skin and approach her cheeks.
"…psychotic…"
Now it was getting personal.
"…sadistic…"
She curled her lips back slightly and began to grind her teeth together.
"…evil…"
The heat had spread all across her face as her blood boiled with pure rage. It was showing as her thumbs dug into the pages and started to slowly tear at the thin sheets that caught in her untrimmed nails.
"…and cowardly bitch."
Of all the insults she could handle, 'coward' was not one of them. That, in her opinion, was worse than anything she ever possibly endure. With a short but piercing grunt, she threw the book behind her with immense force, giving no heed as to where it landed. Her eyes shifted to look at Rock's temple, and they stayed glued on that area as her fingers were wrapping around the handle of the Beretta under her left arm, and pulling the gun out by force in less than half a second.
"You know what?" she spoke as quietly as she could attempt, but her voice still held the volume rivalling that of a loud conversation. She lined the barrel of her weapon with the side of Rock's head, fully confident in the knowledge that her aim was straight and true.
Without a moment's hesitation, and without answering her own question, she squeezed the trigger.
The lone shot rang through the office and out the windows, giving a helpful hint to passers-by that that was the moment to get some distance between them and the building. However, being Roanapur, most of the people nearby only looked in the general direction of the shot with a somewhat stoic gaze. Some laughed, some shook their heads, other just went back to their current activity as if nothing happened.
Only a few dull screams came back through the windowpanes and reached Revy's ears. The smoke billowed out from the barrel end and temporarily clouded her view. In being the unemotional shell she was at present, she allowed the corners of her mouth to eerily pull back into a deformed smile.
She kept the weapon held out in the position she had fired it in as she finally spoke, "Forget what I said about wakin' up again. You piece of shit." Her eyes were black as tar as she looked through half-shut eyelids. But as the smoke cleared, something didn't look right to her. Upon being enlightened and being proved right about her suspicions, her eyes shot wide open.
Rock was still lying there with his tiny smile, but there was no mixture of deep red and black forming a hole in the side of his head, nor a display of red splatters and brain matter on the wall behind him. She looked with a more attentive eye and saw smoke emerging from a new hole that had been punched into the wall. If a straight line were to protrude from the hole in the direction of the impact, it would end up dead on in the centre of Revy's Cutlass barrel.
Revy was totally speechless. 'I…I was aiming for his fucking head! There's no way!' her brain screamed out.
"What the fuck!?" The killer mentality had emerged in a screaming fit. "I know where I was aiming! That bullet shoulda' gone through that asshole's skull! There's no fucking way!"
"You didn't miss, you know." Another, much quieter voice echoed through the emptiness.
"What?" The Killer demanded.
"You didn't miss. You were aiming at the wall when you pulled the trigger, so you hit the wall." The Compassion was calm, but had a hint of a shiver behind it.
"I wasn't shooting for the fucking wall!" The Killer's voice bawled into the nothingness.
After a brief moment, The Compassion began to quietly giggle like a smitten schoolgirl. "You're right." It said, finally ceasing it's immature snigger, "You weren't aiming for the wall. I was."
There followed a long moment of tense silence. It felt like an eternity had passed before The Killer broke it in style. "What? What the hell are you talking about?"
"While you think you have full control, I can do things with this body just like you. I'm surprised you haven't understood it yet. It's simple: I moved the gun as you pulled the trigger." The Compassion gave nothing away but also had nothing to hide as it truthfully admitted to the 'inaccuracy' of Revy's shot in its calm demeanour.
"Why in the fuck would you do that?" The Killer demanded rather unintelligently.
"You were going to kill him." The voice answered obviously.
"That was the whole fucking point you dumb shit! Nobody calls me a coward and walks away with their life!"
"But he's not walking is he?"
"Don't get trivial with me, bitch. You saw what he wrote." The Killer's voice hissed, it sounded like it was speaking through clenched teeth.
"We've been through this once already. I hope you're aware that he wrote that over eight months ago, when things were a lot different."
There was no speech in response, just a low, intimidating growl.
"You want to know why I did it, right?"
"I think I'm fucking entitled!" The Killer impatiently shouted back.
"Because…" The Compassion hesitated, as if almost unsure whether its answer was going to be legitimate enough. "Because it's not his time to go."
"Oh yeah, great excuse!" The sarcasm in the retort was mind-numbingly blatant. "Let me tell you something, 'sis'. If anyone insults me like that, it's their time to go, period. No apologies accepted, no forgiveness given, no…fucking…mercy." The voice had turned dark and disturbing.
"Regardless of what you say, I know it's not his time yet. I know there's a reason, but…I haven't figured it out yet. And until I do, I will keep stopping you." As if to finally find some resolve and inspiration, the voice picked up in intensity, but still exuded its air of composure. "Let me make a deal with you. Every time I see those nine-mils in his face, and every time you might try to hit him while he lays there totally defenceless; I will be there to stop or redirect them. But if my reason for stopping you now isn't good enough when I do find it, then…I'll let you have your way. Until then, leave him alone."
"You scheming little whore!"
"By the way, I think our arm's aching right about now." The Compassion's voice began to drift away.#
Revy's arm immediately dropped down to her side after holding the weight of the pistol up for so long in her frozen, statue-like seating position. At the same time as her arm, her head slumped down, forcing her eyes to gaze at the dull grey floor. The heat in her face wasn't subsiding, nor was her clenched jaw. Her thoughts all caved in on her and wouldn't let her resolve her situation, they were bombarding every feeling and every potential move she could think of making. She finally stood up with enough force that her back knocked the chair over, making it land with a hollow clatter.
"Fuck this!" she screamed toward the floor before she bolted straight for the door, practically ripping it off its hinges as she tried to escape. As she turned to the fire door leading down to the dock she began whispering the same phrase to herself over and over.
"Fuck this…fuck this…" She continued as she jumped down the steep staircase, taking three steps for every single pace. As she reached the bottom, landing with a distinct 'thud', she briefly cut her repetitive speech as she walked down the long jettee towards the Lagoon. Just as she was within distance to jump aboard, she turned to face the building behind her and threw a ragged air punch in its direction.
"Fuck…you!" she spat, both figuratively and then literally onto the wood panelling in front of her as she hopped aboard the deck of the PT boat and hurriedly entered through the front service hatch.
Three hours later
Near the city centre, Benny was walking through the bustling streets with a medium sized box tucked under his right arm; his free left hand was stowed inside his trouser pocket.
Although he had acquired his desired items within the first hour of leaving, he was apprehensive to return once he had heard a gunshot in the distance. While gunshots were nothing new in Roanapur, this one had made a little metallic chime as the firing pin hit the primer and the gunpowder ignited. He'd heard that type of shot so many times that he knew the offending weapon as well as its user. Since hearing that shot two-and-a-half hours ago, he had kept his distance and tried to find ways to cut down his spreading boredom.
However, boredom wasn't the main feeling consuming his thoughts. There was a plethora of them: mainly sorrow, pity and fear, all of which he felt towards Rock. The poor guy was stuck with a woman who had absolutely zero control of her temper, which gave fruition to Benny's pity; his sorrow was extended from not being able to empathise with Rock's condition; he figured that being catatonic must really suck, unless his mind tried to relieve the stress of it all with pleasant images. Finally, his fear grew after hearing the shot. After all, he could tell that sound from a mile away, he thought Dutch must have heard it too, but he wasn't in any hurry to get back there and risk taking a bullet. But his fear wasn't for his own safety, he was beginning to worry that she might have actually done him in this time. Nothing was stopping her, so it would be a perfect opportunity. As much as Benny tried to shake it off, it kept coming back and hitting him: he was genuinely afraid that Rock might very well be dead this time.
For what must have been the fourth time in five minutes, he shook his head with vigour in a vain attempt to eject the feeling. Despite his wishes to not feel bored, it still came back to haunt him. Just after gaining his new equipment, he'd taken half an hour to kick back a few beverages in Rowan's strip club. He enjoyed the company…slightly…but even mentioning the words 'girlfriend' and 'in a relationship' in the same sentence did nothing to repel one red-head who insisted on stroking the inside of his thigh.
Despite the drinks, his stomach still demanded more in terms of solid sustenance, and he figured it was time to suck it up and face whatever sight greeted him once he returned to the office. He'd go through all that just so he could eat something. He knew a quick shortcut back, and it just so happened to be approaching from round the next corner. As he turned left to follow the sidewalk facing directly towards the sun and its burning radiance, he saw a few dark speckles on the concrete that offered itself below his feet. It didn't take a rocket scientist to tell it was dried blood. Ten steps later and Benny cut to the right to make his way across the road, forgetting rather stupidly to make sure there were no vehicles beforehand. As soon as he had hit the other side, he continued forward and into an alley that remained almost completely blackened thanks to the buildings that insisted on banning the sun's presence.
He'd only made it ten metres before the noise of the crowds were swept away like driftwood on a rapid. Now it was just he, a few trashcans, the occasional rat, and the odd drip of liquid hitting the ground after separating from its source on a floor above him that populated the dank locale. He continued on without a care, he had used this shortcut many times in the past and he'd never had a problem, so he figured today was no exception. He was just over halfway down the long stretch, but froze once he saw a dark figure practically stumble as if drunk into the thin corridor ahead of him. The silhouette was small and slightly hunched over, it looked like both of its arms were dragging a large bag beside it, creating an awful scratching noise as the fabric of the container ground against the concrete. However, he didn't have to bother worrying about what the figure may have looked like, he could tell just from the dress sense.
The person was shorter than he was by about a foot, with a knee-length skirt that freely swayed with each step of the wearer. Every step rang out thanks to the heeled, but still heavy boots, which looked a size too big in comparison to the somewhat scrawny legs. The short but volumous hair flowed with the contour lines of the person's head, and two long bangs extended down either side of the wearer's face. Still his mind refused to budge out of both spite and fear. Fear…he was going to have to face two types of it now.
Only when both acquaintances were within three metres of one another did they finally recognise the other's face. Benny looked down at the black, viciously highlighted eyes of Sawyer.
'Of all the people…it had to be her.' Benny cursed in his mind.
"Oh," the petite young woman said in her standard monotone, "It's you." Her body was giving away the fact she was straining to keep the bag held up. She finally gave up and let go to catch a few moments rest while she milked the half-scared look of the man stood in her path. The bag slammed to the ground, rustling the lining as its contents briefly rolled inside.
Benny shot a quick glance of the woman's 'package'; it was a large travelling suitcase, both sides were knobbly and extremely uneven as they swelled outward, as if begging for the seams to burst in order to relieve the tension. Benny put two and two together: Sawyer's underworld occupation, and the fact she was struggling with an over-packed suitcase that he had no doubt was carrying something that definitely wasn't clothing.
"What do you want?" the Ultravoice slowly articulated its user vocal actions into a coherent voice.
"N…Nothing, really" Benny shrugged his shoulders in a vain attempt to look unfazed; he looked down at the suitcase, and then slowly trailed his eyes to meet the dark and drilling stare of the cleaner. "I hope that's not Rock in there", he smiled in an attempt to lighten up the environment.
Sawyer did nothing in response, she just stared him down without moving any part of her body. Her arms lay limp at her sides while her feet sat a shoulder's width apart. Most of her upper torso heaved as she silently gasped for air. Pulling a weight just under twice that of her own was a hard duty.
"Unfortunately, it's not." Despite the biological's heavy breathing, the mechanical voice box spoke like it was sat on a comfy sofa. "But you could take this one's place if you'd like." She plastered an evil grin across her face while pointing at the suitcase by her foot, which made Benny shuffle nervously.
"No thanks," he calmly replied, "We've already got one guy out of order." She immediately knew to whom Benny was referring. Benny suddenly remembered the little piece of information that Dutch had shared with him that morning before Revy had woken up; it was his one trump card, and he was certain it would keep her at bay.
"By the way…" In accepting jobs, people always had to listen out for additionals from the clientele. Sawyer hated them; they weighed her job down with conditions and made it more difficult than it should be. Usually these additionals stank of bad news, and this one coming from Benny felt no different to her based on his tone. She began to squint in scepticism as she kept an eye on his mildly shifting posture.
Fighting against his now partially diminishing fear, Benny took the necessary steps to end up face-to-face with the petite Goth. Only 40 centimetres separated them and he noticed that her grin had vanished.
"Dutch and I know which one of you did it" His voice may have been calm and quiet, but the statement itself carried a lot of urgency.
Sawyer's eyes flickered in surprise, but she tried to hide it as she turned her head away. "I don't know what you're talking about", her Ultravoice blurted unemotionally, successfully hiding the surprise of its owner.
Benny let a small smile spread. "Now we both know that's not true. It was something involving Rock's face, lipstick, and a pair of li-" He only got as far as that before Sawyer cut him off.
"Fine. So what if you know? What are you going to do about it?" Sawyer looked back up at the man with her stone cold dead stare. Her posture gleamed with pure defiance.
"You should be more considerate. Revy doesn't know who it was, and she was steaming once she saw his face." Benny informed her, "As soon as she finds out the culprit, and believe me she will at some point, she'll go off the damn reservation. Trust me on that."
Sawyer's eyes widened substantially with Benny's warning. Benny waved his hand almost as a 'don't worry' sign. "I won't say anything. However, I will say this: Don't let it happen again. Okay?" Benny kept his gentle smile up, but his voice made the sincerity all the more clear. Despite the fact there was no ultimatum, Sawyer only nodded in acknowledgement of the sound advice. Unluckily for the cleaner, she had only encountered Revy in a fight at a time when she wasn't incredibly pissed off. In hindsight, she had no idea what the Chinese-American could pull off if she lost her rag completely.
"Good", Benny retained his smile and continued walking. He looked back over his shoulder as he approached the street on the other side, "See you around."
Sawyer looked at the back of Benny's Hawaiian shirt before focussing her attention toward the over-packed suitcase once again. She sighed in silent grief before grasping both her hands back around the top handle and began her long expedition back to the U.G. Pork building.
18:43 hrs
Benny had hurried back to the dock as soon as his eventful meeting with Sawyer had ended. He was grateful to discover that Rock was still breathing, but there was no Revy anywhere in sight. He figured she'd either gone to the Church of Violence for a while or headed off to one of her many other drinking spots; spots that she never invited anyone else to. The first thing he noticed was that her room smelled of fresh gunpowder, confirming his suspicions about a discharge; whether deliberate or accidental, he couldn't tell.
Even in Revy's rage, she had somehow managed to keep the book hidden. It had landed behind a bunch of cardboard boxes that lay in the very corner of the room. Benny had walked in with the sole intent of checking on Rock, so the patient's secret appeared to still be safe for the moment.
All the day's occurrences had been passed on to Dutch soon after he arrived back at around 16:20. Benny of all people knew not to bother asking where his boss had gone, much like Dutch hadn't asked what equipment Benny had bought. Benny, however, told him anyway, since it was all for the crew's benefit. He had ordered a new set of 4 wireless communicators to replace the models they already had on the Lagoon. These had a longer range, longer battery life and better noise cancelling capabilities. Recently the tech expert had realised that their old headset frequencies could have easily been tapped into. As a result, he had called in an unknown favour in order to get his hands on a frequency scrambler. Dutch reminded himself to give Benny something special for his birthday, as this would ensure integrity of communications during jobs. The interaction with Sawyer made the well-built American laugh wholeheartedly, he knew he was going to have fun with this scenario in the future.
What surprised the blonde the most, though, was Dutch's seemingly numb reaction to the gunshot and Revy's disappearance. He merely shrugged his shoulders in almost blatant disregard and claimed that she'd come back of her own accord. His voice however, gave his real thoughts away: disappointment and anger. They discussed her potential whereabouts in only minor detail, as Dutch suggested that she needed time.
22:31 hrs
'Asshole', 'useless', 'pussy', 'shithead'…those were but a few of the short mutterings spewed from the lips of one of Roanapur's most feared women as she sat idling at the bow of the Lagoon. Her legs were freely dangling over the edge, wading in the cool air that sluiced around them. Scattered behind her across the deck were innumerable amounts of dead cigarette butts and the occasional crushed beer can, some of which ended up floating away in the tide as she threw them in her frustration.
"He wont…" her lips curled around yet another lit tobacco stick, ejecting a voice that could have been mistaken as a mere sigh. There were no hands to remove the cigarette in order to allow her proper bilabial movement, since her own were supporting her weight from behind, "He won't…fucking…die." Her eyes were almost glazed over as she maintained a dead stare in the direction of the horizon. She had seen the sky above it change many different shades over the past hours, and yet her mind was too inundated of itself to care.
Now, in the dark blue sky, she could see the weak shimmering of some of the far distant stars and planets that lay way beyond her own world, a world she knew she'd never be able to leave. The moonlight was left unbroken by a completely cloudless sky, giving a tiny silvery sheen to everything it could pour itself over.
"What do I have to do?" she rhetorically asked herself.
When she had first entered the boat in her initial rage, she had punched numerous walls, kicked two crates over – stubbing her toe in the process -, and raided almost the entire supply of onboard rations in a meagre attempt to drown out her own angst, which had hammered her mind ever since she had left her room.
"I've killed men tougher than him," she practically hissed at the last word, "and never even blinked." She spoke every syllable in slow strokes, as if she was articulating to a young child. "Why can't I kill…a simple fucking white-collar Jap…when he's in a coma?"
She paused for a second as she allowed only a gentle breeze to fling her bangs out of her face in response, and punched the metal panelling she was sat on with force in order to vent her anger upon not finding an answer.
"I don't…understand" she whined as her head drooped to gawk at the dull grey metal she was sat on. She grew deathly quiet as she once again retreated into her psyche, desperately searching for a reason to her...'compassion'. She had heard the footsteps from a mile away, but she waited to talk when she knew they were within ten feet of her.
"Piss off, Dutch", she spoke just loud enough for her fellow American to get the hint. The man came to a halt in minor respect of his employee's wishes.
"It's not very nice to shoot a man while he's sleeping." He waited for a response, but there was nothing. Revy was as still as a corpse, she didn't even twitch a finger. Dutch stood tall with his arms folded and his head tilted slightly forward. The creases just above his eyes made it obvious that he was scowling.
"Revy, you know what I'm going to say."
Revy cut in at that point, "Then you can fuck off", her voice was still tantalisingly quiet. "That way you won't waste the precious air you need to spout that Descartes shit you love so much. Thinking you know the answer to everything, but knowing all the while that it just makes things worse."
She could feel the now very intimidating footfalls of Dutch's boots approaching her, rattling the metal she was sat upon. She did nothing to resist as Dutch wrapped his fingers around the back of Revy's vest and pulled her towards him. She toppled over, landing flat against the deck on her back. Her eyes displayed no surprise as Dutch got down on one knee beside her and was immediately in her face.
"Are you on this team or not, Revy?" Dutch's teeth were welded together as his words seeped through them like acid. Revy's own frown increased at the question, but the cigarette remained attached to her lips, letting smoke rise up into the nostrils of the man dwarfing her.
To display his impatience, Dutch grabbed Revy's vest again with his large right hand and lifted her upper body off the ground, bringing her face closer to his. He growled once again, "I said, are you in this fucking team or not?"
Revy sighed and looked away in defeat if but for a second or two. Her hands lay limp by her side, unwilling to follow her brain's commands to help her support herself.
"What the hell made you turn like this, Revy? I don't see how Rock could be the cause of it." Revy inwardly grimaced at that, but was brought back to reality as Dutch shook her again. "Just what in the hell is wrong with you?" Revy maintained her stare at the sunglasses of the man towering above her. She felt her anger return once more as she finally became uncomfortable with being downsized in the manner that she was.
"It's none of your fucking business! You're just a fuckin' hypocrite, Dutch!" she yelled straight in his face, "Why do you keep on asking about what we do in our spare time when we're not allowed to ask you? You're desire to control your 'team'," she added a patronising tone to the word, "like lap dogs would give a fascist like Hitler a run for his fuckin' money!"
Revy's retort was immediately returned with her body slamming back into the deck. Her head flung back and also impacted with the metal surface. She grunted as she brought her left hand up to rub the spot that was now rapidly increasing in soreness. Dutch was still holding onto her as he leaned back in.
"Tell me what happened in Japan, Revy! You and Rock were on good terms like never before when you got back. But ever since that explosion, you've been nothing but a splinter in my ass! You almost screwed that job Chang gave us 'cause one of the guys asked you for just a goddamn phone number!"
Revy couldn't reply as she was more focussed on the swelling spot at the base of her skull.
"You're pissed because Rock saved you aren't you? God forbid that someone saved the great 'Revy Two-Hands' from death other than herself! Just remember that you'd be dead right now if it wasn't for what he did! So how do you thank him? By almost blowing his fucking brains out?"
Revy suddenly swung her right fist out with what could only be described as a miniature demonic roar. Her hand neatly fitted into the gap between Dutch's jaw line and cheekbone, taking the man completely off guard. She felt his lower jaw unnaturally shift as soon as her knuckles had smashed into the side of his face. Dutch's grip didn't falter as his head snapped across with the impact, freezing for a second before slowly looking back at her.
"Did I hit a nerve?" Dutch practically jeered.
"FUCK YOU!!" she screamed in his face again. "You wanna know what happened in the land of fake smiles and blood money? Well, I'll fuckin' tell ya!"
Dutch let his grip loosen only a fraction as he awaited the explanation.
"Nothin' happened, Dutch! We did the job, no questions asked, and fucked off back to this shithole!" she took note of Dutch's facial muscles as she spoke, they shifted from anger to anxiety, and then anxiety to disappointment.
"Oh my God," she gasped in genuine shock, remembering that disappointed look from somewhere before, "You thought I fucked him, didn't you?"
Dutch's left eyebrow twitched, which was enough to give him away completely. Even though she couldn't see his eyes, his silence was all that was needed. Unable to keep herself in close proximity anymore, she successfully wriggled out of Dutch's grasp and took a large hop backwards in the direction of the cabin.
"You sick fuck!" She pointed a sharp, accusing finger in Dutch's direction, "You and Benny put a bet down didn't you? Do you think I'm some sorta' slut or somethin'?" her voice carried utter disgust as each word was ejected like raw bile. "Some fuckin' employer you are!"
Dutch was still on his knee, now looking up at the highly offended woman. He hung his head in embarrassment and slight shame; the game was now up. Revy didn't continue; the damage was done to both her ego, and Dutch's powers of negotiation. Revy turned away as Dutch stood back up, running a thumb across his cheek from where she had sucker punched him.
"Revy-" Dutch only got the two syllables out before being cut off.
"Stay the fuck away from me, you son of a bitch." Her voice put the message across as more of a warning than a threat. Her eyes had almost turned feral with animalistic rage, and it was a good thing Dutch couldn't see them, otherwise he would have likely wet himself. She was trying her best to hold it back for the sake of not killing her own boss, but she could feel herself losing it like she had earlier. One thing was certain to her now: if they both stood there because of their own stubbornness, she would kill him.
Dutch took one step back toward the jettee before seeing Revy walk off with an immense weight towards the cabin door. She had swallowed her pride and got out before she knew more harm could be done. Dutch watched her silhouette as it moved behind the windowpanes and vanished into a darkened room nearer the hold.
He sighed in exasperated relief. He knew he should consider himself the luckiest man alive to have got away with only a punch to the face after his little stunt. He jumped back across the small watery chasm and landed on the wooden floorboards. He slipped his hands back in his pockets and muttered one word as he walked what felt like a long mile back to the building.
"Shit."
As soon as she had slammed the brig door behind her, Revy had marched straight to the wall on her left, panting like a dog, and punched it with more force than she had with Dutch. She only felt a slight tingle roll up her arm, and wasn't satisfied. She reached back once again and slammed her fist into the unforgiving steel, feeling it more this time. Her fury finally usurped her control, and she flung the fist in a constant one-armed barrage against the wall. One was fairing, the other, soon after, was not. Revy's glove was in complete tatters along the knuckle line, exposing the source of the dark red liquid that had been leaking away from behind its seams.
She began to whimper with every other punch, as the pain finally became enough of a reality for her. Her teeth were grit, and her jaw muscles were becoming sore from the pressure they would not stop exerting. Finally she knew she couldn't hold on, and slumped to her knees in demonstration of her self-induced frailty. As she winced from behind her clamped eyelids, she felt a new fluid flooding her eyes, desperately trying to seek freedom. She let it go, and the tears, formed from a mixture of pain, guilt and anger, finally cascaded down her smooth, tanned cheeks like a slow moving stream.
She sobbed aloud as she felt her diaphragm tighten up, begging to be relieved of the unbearable tension. All she could hear in the confines of the four walls were the sounds of her own turmoil and despair, a sound she had forgotten for a long time, and hearing it again only made her cry more. Revy's exhaustion consumed her as she flopped over onto her side with no control, the impact of her shoulder banging against the floor echoed through the room before dying like a bell's chime. Despite her wish to fall into the depths of sleep in order to rid herself of the torment, her body mutinied, forcing her to continue through the stress.
After what had felt like hours to her, when in reality it was only minutes, she became quieter as unconsciousness became inevitable.
There she was, stood in the basking heat of another glorious day in the South China Sea, which contradicted her own life in a cold New York City. Her hair was blown back in the wind like a flag at full mast during a heavy storm. She looked down at herself and admired her neat and tidy presentation. She wore a white short-sleeved business shirt that was tucked into a knee length dark grey skirt, the hem of which was solid with no patterns or wacky stitching. Her black and fully glossed shoes were raised a few inches at the heel, giving her an inch or so of extra height. In her right hand she flipped a transparent floppy disc across her fingers, contemplating the potential data it held.
Just as she looked back up, she saw a glimmer of light coming from a black spot just below the horizon. Its size grew bigger by the minute, leaving a small disturbance in the water crests it skipped over. It was a boat; grey like a winter sky and with an engine that sounded like a growling tiger.
'Just passing merchants', she thought to herself. But five seconds later, she knew she was wrong. At the bow of the boat was a man dressed in a tight-fitting black tee shirt and thoroughly torn denim pants that frayed like wild strings just above his ankles. He wore a smile that promised nothing but grief and misery, and never pulled his greed-filled eyes off the ship as they blew past at speed.
The scariest thing about the man, however, was that he was holding a rocket launcher.
A/N: Wow...just over 13k words. Took me ages to finish that off. I advise that you read the notes below.
Okay, first of all let me extend my deepest apologies for keeping you hanging on this chapter as I know it's been over a month since the last one. I had two things hit me since chapter 7: 1. I got writer's block for about two weeks. 2. Real life pulled a number on me, and it left me with almost no free time to write.
PLEASE REVIEW! I appreciate any feedback with open arms, and I accept any constructive criticisms one might have. SO REVIEW PLEASE!
For the people who are wondering "Did Sawyer kiss Rock?" or "So, Sawyer kissed Rock, huh?", my reply is this: I am not confirming, nor am I denying, that Sawyer may or may not have planted a lovey-dovey kiss on Rock's face. The reasoning around the mystery will become clearer in a later chapter. I made Benny say what he did in this chapter because it never definitively pointed the finger of blame at the Goth, but it didn't necessarily get her off the hook either.
I really wanted to take my time with this chapter and the next, the restaurant was a pretty good character development scene in the anime, and I want to do it justice through Rock's written perspective.
Add this to your story alert list if it's not on there already! You can favourite it if you like it enough!
I don't know when I'll get the next chapter out what with real life getting in my way now. Until next time, it's sayonara!
