A Long, Long Night
It was rather quiet at Beacon academy today, a silence Obaz was soaking up as best he could as he read three different texts around him in the courtyard. There was the occasionally passersby that gave him an odd look, but his tendencies were now common in their strangeness; students had come to know his unusual habits were the norm for him, so that was what they came to expect when they caught sight of the Huntsman. The grass flanking either side of the path leading past the fountain and to the school was comfortable and refreshing, so he liked to study here when possible; the frequent traffic often made the place too noisy.
As to why it was a quiet day, that was obvious; the grounds were practically deserted due to the preparations for the dance tomorrow. Students were shopping for suits and dresses, running around looking for a date to take, like chickens with their heads cut off looking for said head. He had yet to find out what his given role would be as one of the staff for the event, minor as it should be. From what he gathered, Regis had a date already, and he hadn't heard from Laera recently. Sophia was too busy thinking about how people would receive her wearing a dress –her tomboyish reputation may cause the night to become less enjoyable if people seeing her in something so girly gave them an impression of her she never wanted to give, or worse yet made them laugh. Obaz had told her more than once that their opinions didn't matter, and that she should go to enjoy herself, but her doubt followed her still.
Obaz only took in his surroundings with fleeting glimpses between flips of pages and swapping of the three sources before him, but only now did anything come to pass in Beacon's courtyard that warranted attention; one of the students leaving the academy –it was one of Cardin Winchester's teammates, he thought idly –nearly ran into a girl at the entrance gate. Although he couldn't tell much about her from this distance, even vague from here her appearance suggested she had not a thing to do with the school. The bewildered individual she was talking to soon turned, hesitantly pointing straight at Obaz. After that, the person got what looked like hastily shown appreciation before the girl began making a straight path for him.
Obaz had kept his gaze away from the pages around him, as it was clear the person approaching was intent on interrupting his more important activities. As she got closer his vacant expression started to lower; as much as he had seen that the girl was not fitted with Beacon's uniform, her appearance was hardly casual for most. She had gratuitous amounts of dark make-up. Her black hair was up in a style that he could only call wildly scattered intentionally. She was roughly five foot nine, only due to some kind of lacy platform boots she had on. Her jeans were gripping her trim figure like they were afraid of the unfamiliar space around them, and both the long-sleeved red shirt she had on and the graffiti-tagged gray tee overtop were torn and tattered in ways that revealed the most skin. Perhaps this was what must have passed for style? Two such rips were strategically set to show a glimpse of the valley between the slopes of her bosom, which likely should have drawn his attention for longer than it did. Her eyes shone through the black pith smeared around them like tiny pink crystals, trying to discern something about him.
The jangling of the many rings, pocket chains and crossed belts only stopped when she did a few feet from him. They stared at one another expectantly for a moment.
"Sheesh, Laera wasn't kidding. You're looking at me like my father does."
"I hope you mean disapprovingly. If so, he sounds like a reasonable man."
The girl seemed to file the comment under rude, but moved on rather fast. "I'm getting ahead of myself. You are Obaz, right?"
"Yes. I assume you must be a friend of my teammate?" Perhaps she picked out the microscopic shorts Laera seemed so fond of.
She nodded. "That's right."
Obaz chose to continue on. "Does she want something from me, or was I referred to you for something you want?" His immediate assumption that he was to be used in some way made her squint at him. Rather than refute the claim, she glanced back at the gate where the student that had pointed her his way was still loitering, either waiting for a friend or using that as an excuse to throw more Obaz into the rumor mill.
"Could we go somewhere more private first?" If the student in question was close enough to hear, he certainly had a pitcher of juicy misconceptions for that mill by now. Obaz sighed, getting up and closing his books; if it was a friend of Laera's, and this were important enough to take elsewhere, he probably wouldn't be coming back to his studies today.
"Wait here while I put these away. I will return shortly."
Obaz had followed after the punkish girl off school grounds. They came down to an area of Vale made up of pale, gritty stone walls and smooth slate-colored ground, located at the end of a relatively narrow back alley. A trio of wooden objects with curves and railings were lying about for the sake of recreation, the wind whistling and creeping through the sluice as they both took a seat on one such halfpipe. The forgotten, raw spot carved out of less useful city space reminded Obaz of places he once ate, slept, and grew paranoid not long ago.
Up until now they had spoken on the topic of Laera and her habits to avoid what she was looking to say in the first place, and now that they were alone, his company kicked her legs like Laera often did when thinking. "Let's start fresh. I'm Dominique, Nica for short."
"A pleasure. What is this about?" Obaz pushed, not caring much for how 'fresh' she wanted this start to be.
Nica gave him an irritated glance. "It's about Laera, actually. I'm worried that she's in over her head, and I can't talk her out of tonight. When I thought about who to turn to, I remembered she mentioned her teammate from Beacon had caught her one night but had her back... So I went to find you."
Obaz nodded. "I see... and what is 'tonight' exactly?"
She toyed with a ring on her thumb as she spoke; "Laera wants to have a night out at a certain club tonight, one where I think she'll be jumped by some pretty dangerous people."
"You do realize that Laera is trained to fight evil incarnate on a daily basis?" The fact only seemed to make her appear more concerned.
"That's her excuse for it. She's a big girl; of course she can handle it if things get messy. I've even seen her do it, but she's been drawing too much attention to herself. Even a Huntress can't deal with too many opponents, let alone a Huntress in training. It just takes one wrong move, or someone playing dirty..." That sounded very much like her. Obaz silently waited for Nica to go on. "Boris Tricks came back a few days back from some long trip. He and Laera... have a bit of history. He's gotten pretty big on the street over the years... and word is he's seen Laera at the club, wants another shot at her, you know?"
"Laera has history with a number of men, if this pattern stays its course... still, I see your point." Nica looked ready to punch him for that comment. Obaz let her glare angrily as he remembered Tricks; years ago, it was an older brother or other such family member by the same last name, who had a decent slice of the metaphorical cake that was the slums of Vale. Some family businesses were more honest than others, weren't they?
Nica continued, her voice cracking somewhat. "Now I want to go with her, but Tricks is supposed to have muscle hanging around tonight, and a lot of it. Getting into a fight is one thing, but Laera won't try to avoid trouble, and I just know she'll start something she'll regret –or worse... If anything, she'll seriously injure someone and blow her cover, or get seriously injured and still blow her cover –and I'm sure Beacon won't be too pleased to find her going to clubs every night. Can you please talk her out of this? You're good with words, she said. You can convince a fish to try breathing out of water."
Obaz sighed as she finished, watching her eyes wide with genuine fear for a friend, searching for his and glad he hid them so well. "She rarely takes my advice, as sound as she thinks it might be. From what you say, she wants this badly enough to ignore me outright were I to reason with her." She looked like the words he was so good with had each personally injured her. He frowned.
"Do not lose hope. There are fortunately two sides to this problem... I can handle Tricks." Nica gave him an exasperated look.
"You would rather try to negotiate with a gangster than with your own teammate?"
Obaz shook his head, for a moment he may have even smirked. "I do not intend to negotiate."
Sliding off the halfpipe, Obaz walked toward the way they had come in. Nica caught up with him momentarily, and he began asking her questions; "When will Laera be at the club? What does Boris look like? How many does he have under his thumb, approximately? Do you think they will be armed?"
"Whoa, slow down! You can't just go take this guy!" Obaz rounded on her.
"I most certainly can, and will, if he finds himself in any position to threaten my teammate. I told Laera's father would protect her when it was within my power, and this is well within it. His breed are not new to me –I can break him going in blind if I must, but I would prefer it if you told me what I want to know." She paused in her stride after him, dragging a hand down her face.
"Obaz, this is what I was trying to avoid. Violence doesn't solve anything; it just makes everybody and their mother angry as hell."
"Violence is the only language these people speak. The trick –no pun intended –is to make certain that they know retaliation will grant them nothing." He showed no signs of slowing, making his way west. She followed close behind, and once he repeated his small list of questions she chose to supply useful answers; apparently, the club in question had a strict policy against weapons being brought in, ever since a drunken idiot with a new toy had sprayed the place with dust-depleted, armor-piercing shells that caused a number of injuries, fatalities and thousands in property damage. Because the individual had been held accountable, the newly repaired Narcissus Lot as it was called would not allow a single person –trusted or no –to carry arms through the doors. This meant Laera would be unarmed, and considering her size it wouldn't take the biggest mob to overwhelm. Which brought them to numbers; Boris supposedly had a good amount of respect and money, which he was just good enough at spreading thinly without getting an about face from his cronies, leaving him at a rough estimate of thirty able-bodied dirtbags give or take. That was more than enough to make Obaz grimace.
Boris himself was a pretty scrawny individual who had a taste for checkered slacks, V-collars and bandanas of varying types. His hair was blond and spiked up, sitting above a crow-like face complete with thin lips, pointed shnoz and beady eyes that zoned in on younger women. This was more than enough to make Obaz grimace again. He was also curious, as Laera wouldn't have likely picked the guy out of a crowd for intimacy by appearance alone, at which point Nica shrugged her lack of knowledge in the department of Laera's tastes. Lastly, she was convinced Laera would strut through the doors to that club no later than the moment the sun had set completely, which left them with about two hours.
Obaz pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing he wasn't going to enjoy any part of this wild night of crashing parties, other than maybe intimidating Tricks into a regression to childhood. "We will be starting this discreetly... which means I will need some utterly imbecilic clothes that boys your age wear to these places. That will be your last part to play; after that, either go home or wait outside the club."
At that, Nica turned them into a department store they were passing in a nearby plaza, where she started grabbing oversized sweatshirts and dark-colored jeans. All of these articles she held up against him before shaking her head and returning to find something more suitable, as if it were possible, and in between a zip-up hoodie and a T-shirt that would reach down near his knees she came to realize something.
"I just told you there should be at least thirty guys out to hurt Laera, and you're planning to take all of that and Boris by yourself?"
She earned herself an incredulous look. "Of course not. Laera will be there to cooperate, and we are part of a team after all... I have already sent messages to our other partners." She had seen him tinkering with his scroll earlier, not aware that he had been contacting reinforcements.
"W-wait! You can't let them find out about –"
Obaz held a hand up to silence the girl. "They already knew a while ago; they just wanted to hear it from her when she was ready to tell us for what reasons she does these things. She missed her chance to come clean herself, now that she is being reckless, so she can explain her motivations after we have joined her in the 'fun'."
Across the street from Narcissus' Lot, the four convened to go over the plan one more time. Regis had dropped his gear but kept on with his usual clothes, knowing he could blend just fine where he was needed even without a wardrobe change, though he had obtained a hat. Nica also had no need to switch clothes even though she were just loitering, but Obaz was now wearing a roan red, zipped sweatshirt covered with drastic splotches of black that could have been anything between depictions of skulls to an artist's rage taken out on fabric. His black long-sleeve was underneath this, and his lower body had been given irritatingly baggy, green-camouflage pants and skate shoes. He looked uncomfortable in these things, to say the least. The only weapon visibly on Obaz right now was Prophet clipped to his belt, as he was intending to write it off as a briefcase. It was easy to see what kind of salesman he was trying to impersonate for easy access to the club, though they questioned whether or not he could pull it off. At worst, Prophet would be confiscated for a while.
Sophia had changed into some kind of blue vest mimicking a corset with a lot of lace, nylon stretching from the low top up to her neck and just shy of her shoulders. It was the first time Obaz had ever seen her in a skirt besides the school's customary one, and this was like that of Pyrrha Nikos –short and tight-fitting, but somehow allowing for free movement. She had boots and more nylons similar to Nica, which was no surprise considering she picked it out, the same as Obaz' disguise. Sophia was both trying to appear small and unnoticeable as well as appear intimidating to Regis, who couldn't keep his eyes off.
"It's not that hard to remember the plan. Hell, it could be summed up to 'divide and conquer' for the most part." Regis supplied his opinion of the matter, and Obaz agreed with a silent nod. If his hat and bangs had covered his face well enough, once he got in he had a bandana to cover him from the nose down. If he chose to keep it as a permanent in his usual getup, it would no doubt give his teammates something to grouse over. Regis placed his fedora matching the usual pompous clothes he wore, while Obaz and Sophia were well out of their element –it would be easy to stay out of Laera's radar until disaster struck.
Nica looked less uneasy about the whole scenario than she did earlier, though it was still present in her demeanor. "You three be careful in there." Was all she had to say, knowing any further attempts to dissuade this course of action would be in vain.
"We will... and we'll get an apology out of Laera for you too." Sophia said, cracking her knuckles.
Regis easily passed the bouncer's screening, and Obaz took a bit longer but seemed to talk his way out of any suspicion, which was a feat in itself considering how he looked. Sophia took a moment, only because it seemed the bouncer was interested and she had to dissuade him from trying to get her number. Regis snickered as she joined them inside the entrance, earning the usual shoulder punch.
Inside Narcissus' Lot, there was a center stage along with a dance floor, flanked with a set of plush booths to the left and a stairwell rising to the second-floor VIP tables to the right. Motion seemed choppy in here because the rapidly flashing lights were separated by color, with a second of total darkness between. Glowing body paint, sticks and bracelets were abound, breaking this law and standing out unlike everything else. There was a heavy beat playing out over the many speakers, and three cages hanging from the ceiling, large enough to fit two people at most inside each. Laera was in her party outfit, dancing a ways beneath the one nearest the center of the place.
"How are you liking the club scene, Obaz?" Regis asked, only to find the boy was already gone. There was a sea of people ahead, and while Regis was prepared to brave the mob Sophia was clearly having a hard time adjusting to the place, moreso trying to fit into it herself. "I can get you through here without a scratch. C'mon." He took her hand, at which point she yanked it back.
"I told you not to touch me." She glared at him with a steely resentment, which temporarily erased her unease.
Regis gave her a look of disappointment, followed by a 'too bad' shrug. "Try getting closer to Laera. You're the one she ought not to recognize."
Sophia nodded, and Regis disappeared into the surging crowd. This is a mission, she told herself; not a place to be taking tentative steps like a newborn kitten, but to stride through like a lion ready to tear off faces. But lions don't wear skirts... after a few seconds of debating with herself, she squeezed by the many free spirits enjoying themselves in hopes of getting between the booths and the dance floor, cutting over the bottom-left corner.
Once past the throngs of party-goers, she came face-to-face with Steven Gemell.
Both of them had an even reaction of surprise upon seeing one another, Steven currently wearing a set of black jeans with a dark red, long-sleeved dress shirt of some silky material. There were various insignias crawling up one side of the shirt in freehand writing, and there was a tattoo –temporary, surely –on that side of Steven's face in some vague tribal style.
"I didn't think Laera brought her teammates here. She must trust you quite a bit." He was almost shouting, lowering his voice when she got closer to listen.
Sophia's self-conscious thoughts multiplied tenfold upon meeting someone she knew, beginning to fidget and trying to adjust her clothes to cover the most surface area. "Uh... She doesn't really know we followed her. You?"
"Same. I don't trace her to these places much, but when I've got nothing else going on that night, it pays to keep tabs. She gets into deep shit when anything happens at these outings of hers." Ever the diligent guardian, Steven's gaze hadn't faltered much from the dance floor aside from making momentary eye contact with the blonde. Apparently, though, he had seen enough of the other girl to comment; "Wouldn't have pegged you for the type to wear that getup, but you do the look justice."
She turned away from the boy if only to hide her embarrassment now skyrocketing, facing the floor herself. Laera was doing something she couldn't call anything besides shameless, which subsequently put a frown on Steven. He went to say more, but stopped upon seeing a man in the VIP section near the balcony getting grabbed from behind, one hand over his mouth and another under the arm and over his chest. The guy was snatched up and taken from sight, dragged further back into the above section of Narcissus' Lot. Steven went to stand up, but Sophia put a hand on his arm, sitting him back down. "It's just Obaz."
"... Why is Obaz sneak-attacking the VIP's?"
"Some nut and his thirty-or-so goons want to get fresh with Laera tonight, or so we're told. Obaz is thinning those numbers while he has the chance." She bit her tongue after noticing she had summarized that about the same way Regis would have. Steven chuckled.
"Really, now..." Steven stood from his seat, looking around the area. "When do you think they'll make their move?"
As if on cue, someone walked out onto the dance floor, and upon sight of him Laera stopped all movement and stared at him defiantly. There was arguing that they couldn't hear from this distance, and while she was reaming out the individual in front of her three were approaching from behind her, shoving people aside. Steven and Sophia looked at each other. "If you get the scrawny one, I'll handle those other three."
"How courteous of you. You'd better hope I have more heads to knock after that..." Sophia walked the steps up to the stage, slipping by the people now starting to realize something was wrong. Steven, being the subtle person that he was, picked up the entire couch-sized seat from the booth he was sitting at, holding it for a second to flash his aura and shot-put it across the room. The furniture struck the three men that had gathered behind Laera, causing her to turn around at the disturbance. He figured after this that he ought to leave things to Laera's teammates, and chose to make sure the front entrance wouldn't flood with enemies anytime soon.
Now that people were getting hit with flying seating arrangements, panic swept through the crowd, and anyone on the ground floor who had no ulterior motives to being here practically trampled each other to escape. A fair number of people were also descending the stairs from the VIP section, though significantly few when compared to the group already below. The music had been interrupted, the person in charge of the mixing probably having fled. A quick head count showed nine men not rushing to the exit, all convening at the dance floor around Laera. Sophia got between her and the man she had been arguing with; now close enough to make observation, the bandana, pointed nose, and terrible taste in attire placed the man as Boris Tricks.
"Why hello there, honey..." He had appeared greatly agitated by the turn of events, but once Sophia was in sight that changed to an appraising up-and-down gaze over her form. Sophia took a swing at him on impulse, which he narrowly backed out of but smiled about.
Laera stood back to back with her blonde ally, though even she seemed far from pleased. "Who ratted me out?"
"Nica. All good intentions, though." Sophia blocked a left hook and punched the perpetrator in the jaw, hurling him from his feet and spinning to land on the floor. The ring of opponents around them tightened.
Laera's boot collided with the side of a man's head, quickly followed by a thrusting kick to the leg and an elbow rammed into the stomach. Three came at them at once, and the two moved around each other with perfect coordination to take them out; Laera tripped them up and stunned them mostly, while Sophia delivered the strong blows to finish them off while they were dazed. "I guess we'll have to talk later..."
Proper lights came on, the strobelight colors losing their significance now that they weren't dicing the total darkness. Regis was standing by the backdoor where staff would leave the building, a heap of at least eight guys piled next to it. Between he and Steven at the front, no one was getting away to try this again another night, especially Tricks.
Boris was sitting on a table just off from the dance floor, watching his men get beaten senseless by the two girls with growing interest. He looked up toward the VIP section, the balcony right above him. "Well? C'mon, guys! Get your asses down here!"
He was answered by a table falling from the balcony and nearly crushing him, and two of his men falling from the height shortly after, smashing a few chairs each. Obaz leaped the balcony's railing, hanging from the posts of the railing for a moment before finding a suitable landing pad of floor between seats. He and Boris eyed one another for a moment. "Your underlings posted upstairs are indisposed right now... Try again later."
From the bar area of the club came an object whirling at impressive speeds for Obaz' head, and he dodged the thing with a rush to the side, keeping low. The weapon returned to an individual hopping the counter, and once the boomerang of sorts straightened out to a black machete did Obaz recognize him. The red-headed man wearing mostly denim gave him a devilish smirk; "Well isn't this just my luck... Remember me, buddy?" Despite his disguise, the fellow seemed to recognize Obaz; it must have been by voice.
"I never got your name." Obaz replied. Twin girls circled around the bar counter rather than jumping it, wearing white and red frilly outfits respectively. The red girl had claws at the forearms, the white one with blades at her heels. The man with the machete drew another, meeting the blades at the handles and shifting them to form a swallow.
"Chester. Chester Knotts."
Obaz' mouth pressed thin. "I cannot say I had ever heard of you before now. You must not have been a very good gang leader."
The twins to his left sneered at Chester, and he gave them a dismissive gesture. The three of these people were armed, possibly allowed since none of them were firearms, but he was more convinced that Boris had pulled all the stops on Narcissus' Lot tonight. Fortunately, Obaz had still come prepared, but he was concerned for his own two teammates.
Taking off his hoodie, Obaz tossed Laera the clothing with more weight than it should have had. She shook the fabric until Pariah fell out of the shirt and into her hand. How the boy had gotten this and more past the bouncer would remain a mystery for now, as he handed Prophet to Sophia; the equipment of his that were closest to the girls' own weapons of choice.
Obaz himself took two jagged brass knuckles out from his back pockets. Upon closer inspection, they were made from the shaft pieces and abandoned flamberge teeth once on the Mk. III, and on the flats of the knuckle blades were black rectangles of some kind. The shaft pieces he held behind the finger rings were open-ended at the bottom, and a button was up top for easy thumb access; the Profanes looked to be the first weapon he had made yet that was able to accurately fire without switching form.
Regis laughed as he watched Obaz arm himself and two others when he wasn't supposed to have any gear at all, and the dance floor now had a total of six occupants. Chester was clearly aiming to take out Obaz, while the white twin stood across from Laera and the red twin was pointing a claw at Sophia. Obaz looked over to Regis, and to Steven partway through. "We'll be sticking to the plan, just so you both know. That means you should continue door duty, Steven."
"Got it." The leader of team Strength waited patiently by the entrance. Regis took to leaning in the hallway toward the back door.
"Are we getting paid extra for this? You said there'd only be the one girl..." The white twin said this in a voice that made Obaz want to rearrange the current lineup so that he could punch her in the throat. Boris shrugged.
"As long as you earn your keep, there'll be a bonus for each one you trounce. Sound fair?" This led the three hired hands to a little more inspiration, and soon they were on a fast approach to the members of Resolve. Laera sprung Pariah to flamberge, and Sophia unveiled Prophet's drill form, While Obaz pointed the lower ends of the Profanes forward and pressed in the thumb buttons.
It wasn't bullets that came from the weapons, but small pill-shaped projectiles, and when these hit the floor they broke apart into a cloud of black powder. Chester stopped just short of the mist, and Obaz struck the rectangles on his weapons together, sending a small shower of sparks at the black powder that caused it to erupt into flames. Chester reeled back, and Obaz barreled through the smoke, sending a straight into the man's chest.
Laera was thrown off a bit by the different weight and shape of Pariah compared to her own Precious Surge, but Sophia had never used a short, arm-mounted drill in lieu of a lance before and it was hitting her hard. The twins were no pushovers, and the one up against Sophia was getting hits in every which way, slicing her across the arms, legs, torso –a neck and face strike managed to get through her defenses, too. All the cuts were shallow, as Sophia was managing to dodge just well enough not to get hit directly, but if this kept up the victor of this fight was obvious. Obaz had said that Prophet held one canister of vault radiation at a time, and that canister could release charges through the drill head three times before it emptied. Right now, Sophia was using it without the canister's juice, the drill head spinning quickly and dangerously but not nearly as much so without the charges. Getting frustrated with the red one's quick and agile attacks, Sophia brought Prophet down in a slam that shook the dance floor, and it had the girl wobble just long enough for Sophia to drive the drill right into her gut and throw her off of it. There was now a ragged hole in the belly section of her dress, and some serious bruising.
The white twin was having a harder time getting successful shots on Laera, heels and sword meeting relentlessly between them both. Laera started aiming for the legs and shins with her slashes in hopes of weakening the girl's main mode of attack, but the white twin started skillfully using the low swings to jump and get a few kicks in at Laera's shoulders and face. A spin kick took Laera to the ground, but she rolled into a recovery and dashed for the girl with Pariah's blade aimed at her neck. The white one backsprung to dodge, but Laera got a clean hit on her upper legs with the long reach, causing her to stumble when she landed and leaving her open for a diagonal slice upward.
Chester had slid back from the punch to the chest but stood his ground well, making a lunging thrust for Obaz' face. Unable to defend with knuckle weapons, Obaz parried by making tight hooks that struck the blade's flat or edge and knocked it off course, giving him a chance to step in for a few jabs to the torso. Obaz was fighting a lot like Yang would in this situation, keeping to a close-quarters range, but unlike her used weaker shots to pick at his opponent slowly, agitating the man into wild swings of his weapon that the Huntsman used to his advantage. Where Yang would have launched this guy or just plain broken something by now, Obaz was hovering in a near proximity and making sure his enemy was injured everywhere that he could possibly be hurt.
When Chester finally landed a blow, Obaz fell back twice as far as the guy suspected he would, having used the recoil to bounce off the floor and to his feet at Sophia's side. He grabbed the blonde by the arm and spun her around, hurling her drill-first at Chester, soon after turning to the red twin to switch opponents. Chester got a rotating cone of agony to the left pec, lurching out of the brunt of the attack, and Sophia landed with a surprising amount of grace to start chasing him some more. The red twin dove for Obaz with right claw outstretched, only to find he dropped a capsule of flammable powder and jumped aside to light it once she was standing in the hazard zone. She escaped with a few singes, but a jagged knuckle made good on the chance to deck her in the jaw.
Boris started to sweat, seeing the fight wasn't going in his favor. Knowing the exits were being kept by more enemies he hadn't expected there to be, he started searching for some other route of escape. None seemed viable, and the windows were all too high up other than the ones in the VIP section, so Boris made for the stairs. Steven watched him go, glancing at Regis across the room; they played rock-paper-scissors up until Regis won, leaving his position to make sure their main target couldn't find some curious method of bowing out. Steven could see the hall leading outside where Regis had been guarding, and in the event of someone who needed to stay trying to leave, could run right over.
Finally getting oriented with fighting a drill for an arm, the novelty of Sophia's arrival blew over as Chester started fighting back, separating his weapons to get the upper hand in speed. She had a hard time defending against this furious barrage of slashes up until the white twin knocked Laera back from herself and jumped over them both, intending to help her sister with Obaz. This gave Laera the chance to double up with Sophia against Chester. He held his own, and even managed to take Laera's legs out from under her and nearly stab her in the eye before Sophia plunged Prophet into his ribs. He was hurled aside, and Laera quickly stood to give chase.
Obaz had the red twin by the wrists, and had given a swift kick to her chin before her sister descended with a heel drop. He stepped aside, letting go of one wrist but pulling on the other to deliver a knee to her forehead and a downward swing of his fist to floor the girl. The white twin moved in, giving three kicks to his side and switching feet when he blocked a fourth. Obaz crossed his wrists, shooting capsules at her and scraping the flints on his knuckles together immediately after with a swipe of his arms; he did this twice before deciding to stop backing away and try for an uppercut, one she evaded like the combustions. She aimed for the side of his chest, as he had hoped, and with a return from the uppercut he caught the girl's leg between his arm and torso, dropping an elbow on her knee joint. There was a popping sound as she cried out in pain, and Obaz got his still-free hand against her neck and swept her other leg out, falling into a kneel and slamming the white one by her spine onto his knee.
After tossing the girl aside, the red twin made for him again with anger in her eyes. Slapping her incoming claw aside, Obaz brought an axe-handle up into her jaw, throwing her up into the air, and with the same motion unclasped his hands to catch her ankle on the way up. Swerving around, he countered the force he sent her up with and swung her as hard as he could into the dance floor, breaking a number of the glowing panels. As she groaned and tried to stand, he stepped forward and stomped on her head twice, nearly putting her head through. This was the difference between a friendly spar and actual combat; Obaz had a lot more options available to him when he could fight dirty and brutalize his opponent...
Faced with all three of them now, Chester glanced down at the Malachite sisters and clicked his tongue. There was little else he could do here but retreat. "I may not work for the guy, but he'd better appreciate this..." Sheathing his weaponry, he ran to the fallen sisters and hefted one over the shoulder, the other under-arm, making a sprint for the back door. Steven gave chase, and soon all four of them had vacated the club.
As Laera, Sophia and Obaz met at the base of the stairs, Regis descended them holding Boris Tricks by the back of the collar, his hands tied. Laera looked like she was ready to let him have it, but Obaz took a hold of him by the hair poking out from the top of his bandana, dragging him painfully back up the stairs. The three followed after their comrade, finding him lifting the gangster and putting him down to lie flat on the poker table at the far end of the section.
"You can't do this to me! You know who I am!? I'll have your balls on a pike, you little prick!" He was left there for a moment as Obaz pocketed the Profanes and retrieved Prophet from Sophia, the weapon whirring as he placed it on his own arm. Jumping onto the table, Obaz loomed over Tricks, pressing the tip of the drill between his eyes.
"I won't have to know who you are if you're dead." There was a momentary silence, and soon Boris was hyperventilating as the drill head began to spin and Obaz' allies started trying to talk him down. A motion of his free hand quieted the three, and he pressed the drill just far enough to put a tiny hole into the flesh on the man's forehead.
"The fact is... I do know you, Boris. I know who is vying for your territory in Vale, and I know who among your family and friends will turn on you for a quick buck. I can turn all of these things on you and leave you with nothing in a fortnight, Boris. There will be proof of that waiting for you when you leave... that is, if you're compliant enough to leave. I'm only giving you this one chance, because I tired of you screwing with my friend before I even laid eyes on you. If you agree to forget you ever even knew Laera Daylight or anyone remotely near her, I will let you walk out of here, and even then your success will always rely on my whim... but you will be alive. Make your choice, and make it fast."
"Okay, okay! Fine! Just let me go, dammit!" Obaz drew Prophet away from the man's head, leaning near his ear.
"That was a wise decision. One you had better keep close to, unless you want to wind up like Viktor." Boris looked at him like he had seen a ghost, but the look didn't last as he was lifted and thrown off the balcony like those Obaz had thrown earlier. Turning on his heel, he was wearing a frown larger than usual, and walking past his teammates he grabbed Laera's hand and led her toward the front door.
"None of us are going to speak of this night or the underlying reasons for it, until we have had breakfast."
Lani's Plate was open rather late, and it was deserted other than now five teens that looked like they just started a riot at a Halloween parade. Sophia was once again at odds with her appearance, Nica was not at home in such a basic diner, Regis entertained by the three girls right now and Laera pissed that her club had been crashed. It would be a miracle if they weren't banned from Narcissus' Lot for life... a few minutes ago, they had received messages from Steven saying he lost Chester and the two girls, and that he would see them at Beacon.
Obaz removed his handkerchief and hat, glancing at the waitress who only now recognized him. "Five orders of Bazzie Bombs. If Chel is doing the closing-shift cleaning, please have someone switch with her momentarily."
"Right away, hun." The current waitress gave him a smile and nod, walking away. All three of his fellow students were giving him a confused look.
"Bazzie Bombs?" Nica inquired, humor tinting her voice.
"The first order I ever ate here; Two chocolate-chip pancakes, a tall glass of chocolate milk, and a side of extra crispy bacon. They made it an official part of the menu when I redecorated the restaurant and helped their advertisers beat the competition." Obaz explained. Sophia looked up from her skimpy outfit for once.
"That sounds like an awful lot of work."
"Chel saved my friend and I from starving to death. We were around back, and I'd had a bottle broken over my head. We were both quite weak from hunger, and she came out the back swinging a kitchen knife, scaring off the felons and dragging us both inside. She bought for us what is now a 'Bazzie Bomb' and dressed my head wound. I owe her more than just saving her workplace." The waitress in question brought them four plates with some help from the first girl along with their drinks, and after making sure everyone had theirs she pulled up a stool and sat at the end of their table.
Her black hair was done in a French braid over her shoulder, and her face was adorned with a fair number of freckles spaced narrowly. She was glancing between the four of them with a childlike wonder in her eyes. "Obaz... who are these people?"
"My teammates, and an acquaintance."
"And?..."
"..."
"Bazzie, come on. Say it."
"... my friends. And an acquaintance."
Chel squeaked with delight, standing to wrap an arm around Obaz head and hug it. Regis' jaw went slack, and the other two girls went white. "I knew you had it in you! I just knew it!"
"You can unhand me now. We are here for a reason." She let go of his head, and Obaz gestured to Laera in front of him. "We are going to eat our meal, and share a few words. After that, I am leaving Laera with you. You are going to explain to her, in vast detail, why she is an imbecile."
Silence reigned for a few moments. Everyone at the table burst into laughter, other than the livid Laera and Obaz still eating his pancakes. Chel wiped a tear from her eye, getting up from her seat. "Alright, Bazzie. Let me know when you're finished." She took her leave, and Laera glared at him with a rage soon to boil over.
"You are going to tell us why you frequently attend raves, even when gangs are out for your head."
Laera slammed a hand on the table, trying to use an indoor voice for an outdoor scream. "You can't just make demands like that, Obaz!"
"I can, and will. If you continue to defy me, I will slowly repossess your plate." Before she could say more, he cut a piece of her pancake off and stuck it into her mouth. Watching the act of Obaz feeding Laera her breakfast caused Sophia to jump in her seat and bang her knees under the table, Nica much the same and Regis nearly suffocate on the hilarity.
Laera chewed in order to speak. "What do you think that's going to accompli –" Obaz stole half a pancake from her plate, setting it on his. She gave him a glare, but less severe anger and more of a kid having their dessert taken away. This kept up until he stole a piece of bacon, at which point she shielded her plate and started talking;
"I go to these parties all the time because... because I feel guilty, okay?"
Nica gave her a somewhat knowing look, pity reflected in her eyes. Regis got over his giggle fit, drinking some chocolate milk. "Go on..."
"Two years ago, I was dating Steven's older brother, Brian Gemell. It was only just past a year, but we loved each other. Too much to measure. I could swear he was the one, you know?" She paused, and then ate a piece of bacon. "Back then, my parent's restaurant, Camille's Classico, was suffering from a certain someone you met at the Lot tonight, and his goons. Paying them not to cause trouble, and maintaining the business, was hard."
"I'll bet. I almost wish we let Obaz drill his head after all." Sophia commented. Laera smiled faintly at that.
"Well, we didn't have much to give him, so he started making life hell for us. I took it upon myself to give him what I could to shut him up, which wasn't money... Let's just say they don't call it turning Tricks for nothing. I'm not too proud of that, but the restaurant picked back up. We could be happy... but Brian got suspicious. He thought I was cheating on him, which was half-right so to speak, so he brought me to Clover Park to have a talk. Steven came too, as emotional support; we were always close, the three of us."
Regis started connecting the dots, now. "You and Steven are the survivors from that Grimm attack on the park two years ago, huh?" Obaz showed no change, mowing through another pancake but with less fervor than before. Sophia was taken aback.
"Yeah. Steven pulled me out of there while Brian covered us. He was training to be a Huntsman... but he never realized that dream." Her recent session with Steven about this had tempered her for this one, tears not quite developed yet. "He saved our lives. He saved me after I betrayed his trust, for someone like Boris of all people. I didn't even have a life plan, or a goal to go after. Brian had everything set in stone... he was so sure of himself."
Obaz looked up from his food, and the expression he held was deadpan. "So, you felt guilty that he died in your stead, and felt that you had to live your life to as full an experience as possible in his absence; ergo, making up for his lost life, by living twice as much –constant excitement, little sleep, and hopefully achieving that dream he never could." She nodded, and he sighed.
"I hope you have heard the term 'rolling over in their grave', because Brian Gemell definitely is."
"Obaz!" Sophia called him out on the cruel remark, but he ignored her.
"If I died in order for you to continue living, to find that you were spending your nights partying non-stop with strangers and risking yourself, I would want to take that decision back. Guilty as you might be, all I can see your actions as are disrespect to the one who made that sacrifice. Being a Huntress was a good choice; but running around dressed like that until you cannot stand is not." Obaz went back to his food, and Laera was on the verge of tears again, knowing he was right as much as he hadn't pulled those punches. Nica gave her a reassuring hand. "I will admit, I never met Brian, but I can hold a respect for him myself just from this story. Life demands sacrifice... It is difficult for people to realize that, much less make such a choice."
Regis pushed his plate forward, looking satisfied. "Obaz is a dick. I may agree with him, but he's definitely a dick." As if this was what he was trying to tell her, Sophia took this as a hint to give Obaz one of the punches that were usually reserved for Regis himself. Flinching, Obaz punched her back, which she hadn't expected. This turned into a squabble of Charlie horses that forced Laera to laugh at the display, ridding her of the tears she'd been about to shed.
Rubbing her right side that Obaz had pummeled, Sophia looked at Laera. "I had no idea you went through something that bad... but you've been there for me when it looked like I was suffering, even when you were still like this. I'm your teammate, Laera, and I'm definitely your friend. Lean on me a little."
"Oh god, this is getting too sappy for me." Regis said, standing. "We've got a legit dance to go to tomorrow, remember? Let's get the maybe-two hours of sleep we can before then." Sophia gave him a cold stare, one he shrugged off and left behind. Obaz stood himself, planting one of his own pancakes on Laera's plate.
"Do not forget Chel. I did not schedule you time with her for no reason; she will be... good for you. I have work tomorrow, so as Regis says, I should rest." He may have been a dick, but it was clear that he did care about her. Sophia and Nica both were the next ones to leave, and even if Laera wanted to, the pancake Obaz had left her was too big to eat fast enough and too good to pass up. Chel came back after long, topping off the girl's glass.
"So you and me have some bonding to do, I hear. Maybe you've got a few embarrassing stories about Baz for me?"
Laera smiled, and started talking.