Lost and Found
By PhantomChajo
(Setting: Detia & Charra Loon's cosmos)
Chapter 1 - Vanishing Act
Jon was at a loss of what to do. He had been given leave time and had been ordered to take it. There was no way he was getting out of it this time. Two weeks with nothing to do. He didn't have family here in Limbo like the Kidd did, nor did he have any significant other to spend time with like the Steel Twins, Bluegrass and most of the others.
Everyone seemed to have someone or somewhere to visit except him. Two decades in here in Limbo and still he didn't know half of what was offered to do on Bedlama. To top it all off the Commander had told him that there was no way he was spending his two weeks here at Hawk Haven either. Saying that he would be 'underfoot' the entire time. He certainly didn't want to return to Earth, but he didn't want to really stay here in Limbo either.
He let out a soft groaning sigh as he ran his hands though his hair. Unlike the others, he regularly de-armored in his off hours, so his hair was kept trimmed back to shoulder length. He was getting a headache from it all. Standing up he started to pace the room. He'd stop every now and then to look around. Two decades and all he had to show for it was a bookshelf full of Rules and Regulations books, a desk piled with a paperwork, and emptiness.
Emptiness of the room, an emptiness of the heart that is without love and the emptiness of a joyless soul. I'm pathetic, he thought to himself as he looked around again. His eyes were drawn to the two small cases that were hidden in plain sight. One held all the letters and such that had been sent to him, the other held ten tiny parcels. All of them were sent by the same person and they were all unopened still.
The sender was someone he didn't want nothing to do with. Someone from a past he no longer acknowledged as his own. Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny part of him felt guilty for not opening the letters and parcels or even writing back. But that part was over ruled by the rest of his mind that was still angry over how things turned out. Angry at the people that made his life, to him, a living hell when he was younger.
"Damn it this is getting me no where," he muttered to himself. "What the hell am I going to do for two weeks?!?" he asked the empty room. Enjoy yourself maybe? Let go and be the person you've kept locked away, a voice whispered. "I've got to get out of here." With that decision made he started to ransack his room and closet. He ignored the newer clothes, what few there were, and went for the old stuff. Stuff that had come with him when he first arrived here. Faded and ripped jeans, sleeveless button up shirts, an old denim jacket that had the sleeves ripped out of it and was covered in patches and drawings. Stuff that would raise an eyebrow or two from the most laid back of the team.
A humorless laugh as he thought about what the reaction would be if they ever saw him in some of those clothes. Good Old 'by the book' Lieutenant 'stick up the ass' Quicksilver dressed as one a 'bad boyz' crowd. Complete with the dyed & bleached messy hair style. Pausing he glanced in the mirror over the dresser, running a hand though his golden blonde hair, picturing himself as such. It was scary almost at how easy it was to do.
With his stuff packed in an old duffel, all he needed was a way off the station. If Zan was about he could ask her to take him to Bedlama, but somehow he didn't think he wanted to do that. He didn't really want anyone to know where he was going or what he was going to be doing. That left Seymour the Hack. Checking the time, he chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought. Seymour should be showing up about this time and he wouldn't ask questions. That would work out perfect. He waited a few minutes before grabbing his duffle and slinging it over his shoulder. After making sure the coast was clear, he left his room, locking it behind him.
He made it to the hanger without anyone spotting him. Just in time too. Seymour was just getting into the beat up old cab when Jon exited the lift. With long strides across the hanger he got to the cab before it left. He opened the back door and got in, dropping his bag on the seat next to him.
"Lieutenant Quicksilver. What can I do for ya?"
"Dolar, then Bedlama." It was all he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave Seymour that look that said 'don't ask questions.'
"You got it Lieutenant. You know what I mean?" Seymour replied as he started up the cab and left Hawk Haven.
The ride was fairly quiet, the only noise was the sound of the engine as it chugged along. A list nearly as long as his arm came to mind of all the violations, citations and everything else that was wrong with the cab came to mind. He frowned, more at himself the anything. He was suppose to be on leave to relax some and here he was still 'on duty' as it were, mentally. He caught Seymour glancing at him in the mirror and just frowned that much more. He didn't mean to make the cabbie nervous, but he was.
When they stopped at Dolar, he got out so that he could withdraw enough cash so he would not have to rely on his cards. He made sure to place the cash in a secure place before returning to the cab and getting in. He would stash it once he got a room somewhere.
As they headed to Bedlama, he tuned out Seymour's babble, only making the occasional sound to indicate he had heard the comments. The trip didn't seem take that long. He watched as Hawk Haven passed by, sitting serenely in it's orbit about Bedlama. He blinked and the outside shifted from the black of space to the bright clear blue of a perfect sky. The were on Bedlama already. Blinking again and they were landing in one of the plaza's.
"We're here Lieutenant, ya know what I mean?" Seymour said with a smile, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. He had been shafted so many times by the SilverHawks over they years when it came to the fares, yet he didn't want to get his passenger mad at him either.
Jon let out a soft, unheard sigh as he grabbed his duffle and got out of the Cab. He came up to the driver's window and absently handed the cabbie some money. It covered the fare and left a fairly decent tip too.
Seymour turned to get change and when he turned back around, Quicksilver was no where to be seen. "Something's up with that one. Ya know what I mean?" he mumbled to himself. He looked around a few moments before shrugging and heading back to his normal route.
Jon watched from the deep shadows of a nearby alleyway. Once the cab was well out of sight he stepped out, running a hand though his hair once more. He looked up, easily spotting the tiny glint of light that was Hawk Haven. With a frustrated grunt he turned away from the site and started walking. He needed to find a place to stay, but also somewhere where his actions would go unquestioned. That left the Omni out right off the bat, right along with anything in the upper class section of the city. As he walked he noted the subtle changes. Stores didn't look quite as prosperous, the people wasn't dressed as fancy. If he had to class this area, he'd say it was the middle class area. Still not what he wanted so he kept walking.
Along the way he stopped in at a pharmacy store picking up a few items. After paying for them he tucked the bag into his duffle and kept walking. In all the time he'd been in Limbo, he never really had the time to walk though the city. It was larger when on foot then it was when he had over flown it. His perspective of things had changed.
He knew he was in the area he wanted when he saw more people just sitting about in front of run down stores then he had seen shopping. Those that were going about, were in a hurry to be somewhere else. There was that certain quality that screamed 'this is the bad side of town, if you don't have to be here, then don't stick around.'
The flickering lights of a motel sign caught his attention. The Sleep-Tite Motel was the name of the place. It looked like it was run down, yet tried not to look it. He didn't care as long as he could get a room without questions being asked. When he entered the office, the manager was sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. She was a older, tired looking Divorean.
Stepping up to the counter he waited a moment before speaking. "A room, one week."
"It'll be 200 limbo bucks, cleaning gals come though once a day, ya get 2 towels a day, if ya need more you gotta come to the office," she rattled off not even looking up from her magazine.
"Fine." He peeled a couple of bills off from the pile he'd gotten at Dolar and threw them on the desk. "I just want to be left alone."
The Manager indicated the registry, then fished a key out of the drawer. Leaving the key she took the money and continued to read, never once looking up. "As long as you don't cause trouble, no one will bother ya while ya here." She finally looked up. "If ya want to bring a gal in, it'll cost ya extra though."
Finished with the registry, he took the key. "Thanks." He ignored her commentary about company.
He didn't bother looking at the room number until he was out of the office. He just grunted softly to himself as he turned and headed down the walkway. His room was on the back side of the motel so he didn't have to put up with the traffic outside. When he got to the room, he opened the door and stepped in, looking about. A single bed covered in a light weight spread that was fairly dark, a Vid screen mounted on the wall with a remote to it, a short mirrored dresser, and a table and chairs filled the room. He saw the door to the bathroom off to one side.
Next to the bed was a nightstand with a telephone on it. There was a list of places that delivered also. Dropping the duffel on the bed he went and checked out the bathroom. The usual array of sample shampoo, conditioner and soap was set up on the sink counter. The tub had faded strikes of red down the side and about the tap and drain. The shower curtain was the cheap kind, easier to replace then to clean. Unhindered the memory of a place he stayed when he had ran from home that first time came to mind. It wasn't a motel, but a flop house the gang he was in at the time used. He couldn't help but snort at the memory. This place was just like 'home.'
Returning to the other room he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the list. A couple of places looked interesting, but first he had to take care of something. Pulling out his old denim jacket of his duffel he set it to the side then pulled out his money. Sorting it out before he stashed it in the various hidden inner pockets of the old jacket.
He pulled out his wallet then took a few bills and stashed them about it after folding them up. He paused looking at his ID. It was something he had acquired in his first year in Limbo. As far as he knew, no one else knew about it. It was a simple ID card that he did keep updated. With a shake of his head, he folded the wallet back up and put it back in it's normal place.
Looking around the room he sighed. Glancing at the list he decided on getting something delivered. Picking it up, he looked it over. After about ten minutes he picked the phone up and dialed up a number.
"Cosmic Pizza, where our pizza's are out of this world. We have a meal deal special currently. Two large, twp toppings pizzas with a 2 litter of soda. Only $15.99. What can I get you?" the person on the other end rattled off in a bored manner.
"Give me the meal deal, pepperoni with extra cheese on both and a cola," he said absently. "To be delivered. I'm at the Sleep-Tite Motel." He then gave the room number.
"Ohh..kay. anything else? and what name will that be under?" asked the other person.
"No.. Terry Davids," he replied absently.
"No problem, that will be a total of..$17.50. Your order should be there in ..30 minutes. Thank you for ordering from Cosmic Pizza. Have a good day." The person then hung up.
"Good day.. yeah right," he muttered as he hung up the phone. He had nothing to do until the Pizza arrived so he sat back on the bed, leaning against the head board, and flipped though the channels on the TV.
Jon decided that once he ate something, he'd get started on what he had planned to do. If he was going to he forced into this leave, then by all means, he would ensure that he wouldn't be able to be found during this time either. The rest of the evening went without a hitch. He was left alone as he wanted it to be.
It was late morning when the person stepped out of the hotel room. Dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were ripped at the knees, an old battered biker wallet tucked into the back pocket and the chain hooked to the belt. A gray t-shirt was covered by an old equally battered, ripped and faded sleeveless denim jacket. Patches and designs covered the jacket, along with a few metal studs which winked in the light as the person moved.
Black hair hung messily down the figure's back. The sides were a little shorter, but the bangs hung down, obscuring the person's eyes. Overall it looked as if the person had taken a pair of scissors to it, instead of going to a hairstylist. To top it off, shades were worn. The type that wrapped about the face. A small silver hoop hung from one earlobe. In the other several small gem studs sparkled when the light hit them.
No one in their right mind would associate that figure with Jonathan Quick. There was too much difference, in both appearances and attitudes.
Jon paused, catching his reflection in a window. Looking himself over he couldn't help but smirk. They want me to take time off, then that's just what I'm going to do. If they want me back, too bad. Their loss. Reaching up he ran a hand though his hair, watching with amusement as it returned to it's unruly state. Though it does feel good to let go of everything. With a short bark of laughter he turned and continued walking.
He was in no hurry to get anywhere fast. There was nothing that needed to be done. No where he had to be and no one he was suppose to see. When he got hungry he stopped at a fast food place and got something to eat. When a shop caught his interest, he'd step in and browse, though he didn't buy anything. Absently he noted the looks he was getting from some of the people that ran the places he went. They were watching him closely, as if they expected him to cause trouble or steal something.
At a jewelry store, he bought several thin silver wire bracelets. At another he bought a larger, black and silver arm band. It conveniently covered the modification scars on one arm. In a weapons shop, he picked up a pocket knife and a larger hunting knife. In this area of the city, no questions were asked. Ducking into an alleyway, he tucked the hunting knife into his boot, hiding it under his pants leg as he did.
By the time he reached the more prominent section of the city, he had seen several of the Peace Keepers eyeing him. It seemed that with the way he looked, he was thought of as a trouble maker.
Stopping at a pastry shop, he bought several different types of pastries, along with a cup of strong tea. Taking his purchase to one of the tables that were scattered about in the shop, he sat down to enjoy them. When he was about half way done, he noticed a Peace Keeper had entered the store. He decided to take his time finishing his pastries.
The Peace Keeper in question, a Hash'a'Glith, was talking with the Devonian waitress that stood behind the counter.
To everyone else, it looked like a couple of friends talking, but to Jon, it was obvious he was under surveillance. When he had finished he stood, taking his trash and putting it in the garbage can before walking up to the display counter. Taking his time, he looked over what was on display. He knew he was making the Peace Keeper and the waitress edgy but he intended that.
"Excuse me" he said as he glanced at the waitress. "Is that Baklava?"
The waitress glanced at the Peace Keeper before walking over to look at the sign behind the counter indicating what it was Jon was asking about. "Uh. Yes sir. It's the Earth version of Baklava."
"Cool.I'd like a piece of it," he said with a grin.
"Yes sir," she said as she got a small plate and put a piece of the sweet stuff on it.
Jon had already fished out some money and laid it on the counter, taking the baklava in return. He didn't even bother sitting down as he bit into it. It was like heaven. Oh so sweet and nutty, with a underscoring of nutmeg.
The waitress stared at him as he ate it. Very few customers could down a piece so quickly and without anything to mellow the sticky sweetness of the stuff.
Jon had finished it and was licking his fingers clean. He always had a hidden sweet tooth. And it didn't hurt that with the modifications, he used up the energy it provided faster then a normal person. He tossed the now empty plate into the garbage can, grinning.
The Peace Keeper was just staring, blinking his large eyes in astonishment.
"Give me what you got," Jon said. "I'll take it all." Fishing his wallet to get the money.
"uh. yes sir." the waitress said, still amazed herself. She obediently got a large box, setting it to the side, then pulled the tray out. She managed to get all but the last piece in the box.
"Here, I'll take that one," Jon said, handing her the money and taking both the box and the extra piece. "Keep the change," he commented as he sauntered out the door of the shop.
Both the Peace Keeper and the waitress exchanged looks and shrugged at the same time.
On his way back to the motel, he stopped by several candy stores. Each time coming out with a selection of sweets that would send a normal person into diabetic shock. But for him, there was nothing better then enjoying the rush that sugar provided him. Just from the two pieces of the baklava, he had a better outlook on the day as well as a lightness to his steps he didn't have this morning.
The next several days followed the same pattern. Getting up late, going out to roam the city, grabbing a bite to eat and then getting some type of sweet on the way back. It was the forth day when things changed.
Jon was headed towards the up-town districts when he saw a woman being roughly shoved into an alleyway by a pair of rough looking men. He frowned as he glanced about. In this area there were fewer Peace Keepers and those that were around tended to stay inside their vehicles.
He crossed the street and ducked into an alley that was just down from the one that woman had been drug down. Sprinting down the alleyway till he found a connecting, smaller alley, then crossing over to the one he wanted. He made a quick peek around the corner.
A look out was stationed near the end where he was at, but was watching what was going on with the woman. Ever few moments he would turn and glance about then go back to watching. He had a blaster held loose & cockily in hand.
Jon just grinned to himself. This would be easier then dealing with the mob. Timing it just right, he came around the corner and slammed a fist into the back of the thug's neck, knocking him out. While the thug was no feather weight, Jon managed to drag him out of sight around the corner before his friends spotted what was going on. Jon then snuck down the alleyway, using empty crates and dumpsters as cover. Once Jon was close enough to see what exactly was going on, he waited and watched.
The woman was being held up against the wall, by the throat, by one person as the other was riffling through her belongings. When he was finished he turned on the woman and started to slap her around.
Once the pair started to man-handle the woman, Jon stepped out from behind the dumpster. Before either of the men could react he was on them, using a combination of old street fighting techniques as well as basic martial arts that he kept in practice with, to take both men down.
Though the fight took longer then Jon liked, it didn't take as long as he thought it would. "Are you alright miss?" he asked woman as he brushed himself down before stepping closer to her. "They didn't hurt you too-" Jon never got to finish what he was saying.
The lookout he had knocked out earlier had awoken and made his way down to the confrontation. He had picked up a discarded pipe along the way and used it to bash Jon over the back of the head. As the thug continued to beat Jon with the pipe, the woman reached down, picked up the dropped blaster and shot the thug point blank, several times in the head and chest, killing him. She then turned and shot the two unconscious men that were laying on the ground, also killing them.
She was kneeling down to check on Jon when a ground vehicle came to a screeching stop a few feet away. Another woman stuck her head out of the window and hollered for the one that had been assaulted to get in.
"Give me a hand," the first said as she turned Jon over and tsked over the injuries he had received.
"Why? It's just another useless male."
"Maybe so, but he did save the shipment and my life Jen-Jen," she responded. "Just shut up and give me a hand."
"All right, fine Selly, but if the boss gets pissed don't blame me." Jen- Jen said as she got out of the vehicle and helped Selly haul Jon into it.
Jen-Jen didn't eve bother to try and get around the bodies once they were ready to go, she just drove right over them.
(Setting: Detia & Charra Loon's cosmos)
Chapter 1 - Vanishing Act
Jon was at a loss of what to do. He had been given leave time and had been ordered to take it. There was no way he was getting out of it this time. Two weeks with nothing to do. He didn't have family here in Limbo like the Kidd did, nor did he have any significant other to spend time with like the Steel Twins, Bluegrass and most of the others.
Everyone seemed to have someone or somewhere to visit except him. Two decades in here in Limbo and still he didn't know half of what was offered to do on Bedlama. To top it all off the Commander had told him that there was no way he was spending his two weeks here at Hawk Haven either. Saying that he would be 'underfoot' the entire time. He certainly didn't want to return to Earth, but he didn't want to really stay here in Limbo either.
He let out a soft groaning sigh as he ran his hands though his hair. Unlike the others, he regularly de-armored in his off hours, so his hair was kept trimmed back to shoulder length. He was getting a headache from it all. Standing up he started to pace the room. He'd stop every now and then to look around. Two decades and all he had to show for it was a bookshelf full of Rules and Regulations books, a desk piled with a paperwork, and emptiness.
Emptiness of the room, an emptiness of the heart that is without love and the emptiness of a joyless soul. I'm pathetic, he thought to himself as he looked around again. His eyes were drawn to the two small cases that were hidden in plain sight. One held all the letters and such that had been sent to him, the other held ten tiny parcels. All of them were sent by the same person and they were all unopened still.
The sender was someone he didn't want nothing to do with. Someone from a past he no longer acknowledged as his own. Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny part of him felt guilty for not opening the letters and parcels or even writing back. But that part was over ruled by the rest of his mind that was still angry over how things turned out. Angry at the people that made his life, to him, a living hell when he was younger.
"Damn it this is getting me no where," he muttered to himself. "What the hell am I going to do for two weeks?!?" he asked the empty room. Enjoy yourself maybe? Let go and be the person you've kept locked away, a voice whispered. "I've got to get out of here." With that decision made he started to ransack his room and closet. He ignored the newer clothes, what few there were, and went for the old stuff. Stuff that had come with him when he first arrived here. Faded and ripped jeans, sleeveless button up shirts, an old denim jacket that had the sleeves ripped out of it and was covered in patches and drawings. Stuff that would raise an eyebrow or two from the most laid back of the team.
A humorless laugh as he thought about what the reaction would be if they ever saw him in some of those clothes. Good Old 'by the book' Lieutenant 'stick up the ass' Quicksilver dressed as one a 'bad boyz' crowd. Complete with the dyed & bleached messy hair style. Pausing he glanced in the mirror over the dresser, running a hand though his golden blonde hair, picturing himself as such. It was scary almost at how easy it was to do.
With his stuff packed in an old duffel, all he needed was a way off the station. If Zan was about he could ask her to take him to Bedlama, but somehow he didn't think he wanted to do that. He didn't really want anyone to know where he was going or what he was going to be doing. That left Seymour the Hack. Checking the time, he chewed on the inside of his cheek in thought. Seymour should be showing up about this time and he wouldn't ask questions. That would work out perfect. He waited a few minutes before grabbing his duffle and slinging it over his shoulder. After making sure the coast was clear, he left his room, locking it behind him.
He made it to the hanger without anyone spotting him. Just in time too. Seymour was just getting into the beat up old cab when Jon exited the lift. With long strides across the hanger he got to the cab before it left. He opened the back door and got in, dropping his bag on the seat next to him.
"Lieutenant Quicksilver. What can I do for ya?"
"Dolar, then Bedlama." It was all he said as he crossed his arms over his chest and gave Seymour that look that said 'don't ask questions.'
"You got it Lieutenant. You know what I mean?" Seymour replied as he started up the cab and left Hawk Haven.
The ride was fairly quiet, the only noise was the sound of the engine as it chugged along. A list nearly as long as his arm came to mind of all the violations, citations and everything else that was wrong with the cab came to mind. He frowned, more at himself the anything. He was suppose to be on leave to relax some and here he was still 'on duty' as it were, mentally. He caught Seymour glancing at him in the mirror and just frowned that much more. He didn't mean to make the cabbie nervous, but he was.
When they stopped at Dolar, he got out so that he could withdraw enough cash so he would not have to rely on his cards. He made sure to place the cash in a secure place before returning to the cab and getting in. He would stash it once he got a room somewhere.
As they headed to Bedlama, he tuned out Seymour's babble, only making the occasional sound to indicate he had heard the comments. The trip didn't seem take that long. He watched as Hawk Haven passed by, sitting serenely in it's orbit about Bedlama. He blinked and the outside shifted from the black of space to the bright clear blue of a perfect sky. The were on Bedlama already. Blinking again and they were landing in one of the plaza's.
"We're here Lieutenant, ya know what I mean?" Seymour said with a smile, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. He had been shafted so many times by the SilverHawks over they years when it came to the fares, yet he didn't want to get his passenger mad at him either.
Jon let out a soft, unheard sigh as he grabbed his duffle and got out of the Cab. He came up to the driver's window and absently handed the cabbie some money. It covered the fare and left a fairly decent tip too.
Seymour turned to get change and when he turned back around, Quicksilver was no where to be seen. "Something's up with that one. Ya know what I mean?" he mumbled to himself. He looked around a few moments before shrugging and heading back to his normal route.
Jon watched from the deep shadows of a nearby alleyway. Once the cab was well out of sight he stepped out, running a hand though his hair once more. He looked up, easily spotting the tiny glint of light that was Hawk Haven. With a frustrated grunt he turned away from the site and started walking. He needed to find a place to stay, but also somewhere where his actions would go unquestioned. That left the Omni out right off the bat, right along with anything in the upper class section of the city. As he walked he noted the subtle changes. Stores didn't look quite as prosperous, the people wasn't dressed as fancy. If he had to class this area, he'd say it was the middle class area. Still not what he wanted so he kept walking.
Along the way he stopped in at a pharmacy store picking up a few items. After paying for them he tucked the bag into his duffle and kept walking. In all the time he'd been in Limbo, he never really had the time to walk though the city. It was larger when on foot then it was when he had over flown it. His perspective of things had changed.
He knew he was in the area he wanted when he saw more people just sitting about in front of run down stores then he had seen shopping. Those that were going about, were in a hurry to be somewhere else. There was that certain quality that screamed 'this is the bad side of town, if you don't have to be here, then don't stick around.'
The flickering lights of a motel sign caught his attention. The Sleep-Tite Motel was the name of the place. It looked like it was run down, yet tried not to look it. He didn't care as long as he could get a room without questions being asked. When he entered the office, the manager was sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. She was a older, tired looking Divorean.
Stepping up to the counter he waited a moment before speaking. "A room, one week."
"It'll be 200 limbo bucks, cleaning gals come though once a day, ya get 2 towels a day, if ya need more you gotta come to the office," she rattled off not even looking up from her magazine.
"Fine." He peeled a couple of bills off from the pile he'd gotten at Dolar and threw them on the desk. "I just want to be left alone."
The Manager indicated the registry, then fished a key out of the drawer. Leaving the key she took the money and continued to read, never once looking up. "As long as you don't cause trouble, no one will bother ya while ya here." She finally looked up. "If ya want to bring a gal in, it'll cost ya extra though."
Finished with the registry, he took the key. "Thanks." He ignored her commentary about company.
He didn't bother looking at the room number until he was out of the office. He just grunted softly to himself as he turned and headed down the walkway. His room was on the back side of the motel so he didn't have to put up with the traffic outside. When he got to the room, he opened the door and stepped in, looking about. A single bed covered in a light weight spread that was fairly dark, a Vid screen mounted on the wall with a remote to it, a short mirrored dresser, and a table and chairs filled the room. He saw the door to the bathroom off to one side.
Next to the bed was a nightstand with a telephone on it. There was a list of places that delivered also. Dropping the duffel on the bed he went and checked out the bathroom. The usual array of sample shampoo, conditioner and soap was set up on the sink counter. The tub had faded strikes of red down the side and about the tap and drain. The shower curtain was the cheap kind, easier to replace then to clean. Unhindered the memory of a place he stayed when he had ran from home that first time came to mind. It wasn't a motel, but a flop house the gang he was in at the time used. He couldn't help but snort at the memory. This place was just like 'home.'
Returning to the other room he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up the list. A couple of places looked interesting, but first he had to take care of something. Pulling out his old denim jacket of his duffel he set it to the side then pulled out his money. Sorting it out before he stashed it in the various hidden inner pockets of the old jacket.
He pulled out his wallet then took a few bills and stashed them about it after folding them up. He paused looking at his ID. It was something he had acquired in his first year in Limbo. As far as he knew, no one else knew about it. It was a simple ID card that he did keep updated. With a shake of his head, he folded the wallet back up and put it back in it's normal place.
Looking around the room he sighed. Glancing at the list he decided on getting something delivered. Picking it up, he looked it over. After about ten minutes he picked the phone up and dialed up a number.
"Cosmic Pizza, where our pizza's are out of this world. We have a meal deal special currently. Two large, twp toppings pizzas with a 2 litter of soda. Only $15.99. What can I get you?" the person on the other end rattled off in a bored manner.
"Give me the meal deal, pepperoni with extra cheese on both and a cola," he said absently. "To be delivered. I'm at the Sleep-Tite Motel." He then gave the room number.
"Ohh..kay. anything else? and what name will that be under?" asked the other person.
"No.. Terry Davids," he replied absently.
"No problem, that will be a total of..$17.50. Your order should be there in ..30 minutes. Thank you for ordering from Cosmic Pizza. Have a good day." The person then hung up.
"Good day.. yeah right," he muttered as he hung up the phone. He had nothing to do until the Pizza arrived so he sat back on the bed, leaning against the head board, and flipped though the channels on the TV.
Jon decided that once he ate something, he'd get started on what he had planned to do. If he was going to he forced into this leave, then by all means, he would ensure that he wouldn't be able to be found during this time either. The rest of the evening went without a hitch. He was left alone as he wanted it to be.
It was late morning when the person stepped out of the hotel room. Dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans that were ripped at the knees, an old battered biker wallet tucked into the back pocket and the chain hooked to the belt. A gray t-shirt was covered by an old equally battered, ripped and faded sleeveless denim jacket. Patches and designs covered the jacket, along with a few metal studs which winked in the light as the person moved.
Black hair hung messily down the figure's back. The sides were a little shorter, but the bangs hung down, obscuring the person's eyes. Overall it looked as if the person had taken a pair of scissors to it, instead of going to a hairstylist. To top it off, shades were worn. The type that wrapped about the face. A small silver hoop hung from one earlobe. In the other several small gem studs sparkled when the light hit them.
No one in their right mind would associate that figure with Jonathan Quick. There was too much difference, in both appearances and attitudes.
Jon paused, catching his reflection in a window. Looking himself over he couldn't help but smirk. They want me to take time off, then that's just what I'm going to do. If they want me back, too bad. Their loss. Reaching up he ran a hand though his hair, watching with amusement as it returned to it's unruly state. Though it does feel good to let go of everything. With a short bark of laughter he turned and continued walking.
He was in no hurry to get anywhere fast. There was nothing that needed to be done. No where he had to be and no one he was suppose to see. When he got hungry he stopped at a fast food place and got something to eat. When a shop caught his interest, he'd step in and browse, though he didn't buy anything. Absently he noted the looks he was getting from some of the people that ran the places he went. They were watching him closely, as if they expected him to cause trouble or steal something.
At a jewelry store, he bought several thin silver wire bracelets. At another he bought a larger, black and silver arm band. It conveniently covered the modification scars on one arm. In a weapons shop, he picked up a pocket knife and a larger hunting knife. In this area of the city, no questions were asked. Ducking into an alleyway, he tucked the hunting knife into his boot, hiding it under his pants leg as he did.
By the time he reached the more prominent section of the city, he had seen several of the Peace Keepers eyeing him. It seemed that with the way he looked, he was thought of as a trouble maker.
Stopping at a pastry shop, he bought several different types of pastries, along with a cup of strong tea. Taking his purchase to one of the tables that were scattered about in the shop, he sat down to enjoy them. When he was about half way done, he noticed a Peace Keeper had entered the store. He decided to take his time finishing his pastries.
The Peace Keeper in question, a Hash'a'Glith, was talking with the Devonian waitress that stood behind the counter.
To everyone else, it looked like a couple of friends talking, but to Jon, it was obvious he was under surveillance. When he had finished he stood, taking his trash and putting it in the garbage can before walking up to the display counter. Taking his time, he looked over what was on display. He knew he was making the Peace Keeper and the waitress edgy but he intended that.
"Excuse me" he said as he glanced at the waitress. "Is that Baklava?"
The waitress glanced at the Peace Keeper before walking over to look at the sign behind the counter indicating what it was Jon was asking about. "Uh. Yes sir. It's the Earth version of Baklava."
"Cool.I'd like a piece of it," he said with a grin.
"Yes sir," she said as she got a small plate and put a piece of the sweet stuff on it.
Jon had already fished out some money and laid it on the counter, taking the baklava in return. He didn't even bother sitting down as he bit into it. It was like heaven. Oh so sweet and nutty, with a underscoring of nutmeg.
The waitress stared at him as he ate it. Very few customers could down a piece so quickly and without anything to mellow the sticky sweetness of the stuff.
Jon had finished it and was licking his fingers clean. He always had a hidden sweet tooth. And it didn't hurt that with the modifications, he used up the energy it provided faster then a normal person. He tossed the now empty plate into the garbage can, grinning.
The Peace Keeper was just staring, blinking his large eyes in astonishment.
"Give me what you got," Jon said. "I'll take it all." Fishing his wallet to get the money.
"uh. yes sir." the waitress said, still amazed herself. She obediently got a large box, setting it to the side, then pulled the tray out. She managed to get all but the last piece in the box.
"Here, I'll take that one," Jon said, handing her the money and taking both the box and the extra piece. "Keep the change," he commented as he sauntered out the door of the shop.
Both the Peace Keeper and the waitress exchanged looks and shrugged at the same time.
On his way back to the motel, he stopped by several candy stores. Each time coming out with a selection of sweets that would send a normal person into diabetic shock. But for him, there was nothing better then enjoying the rush that sugar provided him. Just from the two pieces of the baklava, he had a better outlook on the day as well as a lightness to his steps he didn't have this morning.
The next several days followed the same pattern. Getting up late, going out to roam the city, grabbing a bite to eat and then getting some type of sweet on the way back. It was the forth day when things changed.
Jon was headed towards the up-town districts when he saw a woman being roughly shoved into an alleyway by a pair of rough looking men. He frowned as he glanced about. In this area there were fewer Peace Keepers and those that were around tended to stay inside their vehicles.
He crossed the street and ducked into an alley that was just down from the one that woman had been drug down. Sprinting down the alleyway till he found a connecting, smaller alley, then crossing over to the one he wanted. He made a quick peek around the corner.
A look out was stationed near the end where he was at, but was watching what was going on with the woman. Ever few moments he would turn and glance about then go back to watching. He had a blaster held loose & cockily in hand.
Jon just grinned to himself. This would be easier then dealing with the mob. Timing it just right, he came around the corner and slammed a fist into the back of the thug's neck, knocking him out. While the thug was no feather weight, Jon managed to drag him out of sight around the corner before his friends spotted what was going on. Jon then snuck down the alleyway, using empty crates and dumpsters as cover. Once Jon was close enough to see what exactly was going on, he waited and watched.
The woman was being held up against the wall, by the throat, by one person as the other was riffling through her belongings. When he was finished he turned on the woman and started to slap her around.
Once the pair started to man-handle the woman, Jon stepped out from behind the dumpster. Before either of the men could react he was on them, using a combination of old street fighting techniques as well as basic martial arts that he kept in practice with, to take both men down.
Though the fight took longer then Jon liked, it didn't take as long as he thought it would. "Are you alright miss?" he asked woman as he brushed himself down before stepping closer to her. "They didn't hurt you too-" Jon never got to finish what he was saying.
The lookout he had knocked out earlier had awoken and made his way down to the confrontation. He had picked up a discarded pipe along the way and used it to bash Jon over the back of the head. As the thug continued to beat Jon with the pipe, the woman reached down, picked up the dropped blaster and shot the thug point blank, several times in the head and chest, killing him. She then turned and shot the two unconscious men that were laying on the ground, also killing them.
She was kneeling down to check on Jon when a ground vehicle came to a screeching stop a few feet away. Another woman stuck her head out of the window and hollered for the one that had been assaulted to get in.
"Give me a hand," the first said as she turned Jon over and tsked over the injuries he had received.
"Why? It's just another useless male."
"Maybe so, but he did save the shipment and my life Jen-Jen," she responded. "Just shut up and give me a hand."
"All right, fine Selly, but if the boss gets pissed don't blame me." Jen- Jen said as she got out of the vehicle and helped Selly haul Jon into it.
Jen-Jen didn't eve bother to try and get around the bodies once they were ready to go, she just drove right over them.
