Chapter 3.5
Bull In Red
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Cherven Taurus liked to think his life was simple. Or atleast; it's what he wanted the others at Sundown Orphanage to think.
He avoided his horns and pushed back his sweat coated hair– a by-product of the training 'The Hornets' had planned for him. Even though his muscles struggled more and more with every pull, the thought of that place kept him going. One of the only safe places in the entire city.
But he wasn't even close enough to being strong enough— Not fast enough, not like Kon. Even if he was a retired huntsman it's where he should be aiming.
Aim for the stars and you'll at least go up, right?
Cherven jumped what little he could with the chains and tyres around his shoulders, he latched his fingers around the pull-up bar— well he tried to, but his fingers were slipping. A mixture of sweat and exhaustion. He went three reps longer than the last time he came. He felt like he could do ten more.
In his opinion, he could make it into Haven by the time he was thirteen. Of course he'd grown fast, in more ways than one, an unmistakable advantage over everybody else his age. By the time he was ten he already looked like a teenager. Maybe it had something to do with getting his aura unlocked at such an early age.
Of course his age wasn't known to anybody outside the orphanage. Good thing too; it would attract even more thugs. The beating he gave those two ex members of White Fang got out. A snitch in the wasp gang, Cherven would say. Ever since then he had to make sure he didn't spend as much time at the orphanage. Jade called it a part of growing up; that it was natural to start hanging out with friends and going to parties. It was better she didn't know.
"And…" Cherven breathed in deeply. "Marks one-thousand." He felt like he could collapse. Maybe he would later, but if the Wasps found him like this he'd be booted in an instant.
'I need to think about something. Something else.' Cherven went through thoughts. He just needed to focus on not collapsing in his own puddle right now.
Cherven tugged a cube out of his coat pocket, currently below the bench a few feet away from him. He looked at the mini-clock stored in the inside pocket with his lien and identification.
Ten to seven? Damn, a thousand in only half an hour, huh? 'Could probably go for another thousand without the weights.'
"Whoo-hoo-hu. Look who's still here." Shit. Shúe wasn't supposed to be here for another forty minutes. He swashed his greased blonde-black hair to the side."Shiit— Ye' ever get outta this dump? I swear, only time I see ya' outside of this hole is when your busy fuckin'—" Shúé made an aggressive punch to the air, flashing a Pillory inside his purple and white blazer Cherven had thrown away months ago.."—people up. Ya' even sleep, man?" He had a knife on him. Inner pocket, under where the eye. Opposite side of the Pillory. Was it a distraction?
"I mean, seriously. Only ever seen ya' in those clothes. Even then I'm doubtin' ya' take over a minute to proper yourself up. Guess there's not a point, right?" He slinked an arm over Cherven's shoulder. Knife or not, there's no way he could break through my aura, Dumbass doesn't even know I have aura in the first place.
"Maybe if ya actually joined the gang for some fun…" His voice stopped joking around. Cherven could feel the woollen sleeve of the blazer around his neck. The knife was made evidently clear from a gleam of orange light flashing off it. "Ya could afford the new Pillory, ya know?" –and suddenly the situation changed. The tension he was trying to inflict in the area had lightened up.
This man served no threat to him. But Cherven needed something he had. His power. Not a semblance— No, he even doubted a goon like this would even have one aura included.
When he left for Haven –hell maybe even Beacon, the thought had him excited– the orphanage would be unprotected. The gangs in Mistral were worse than anywhere else. Anywhere. The biggest one were even able to weasel their own seat on the council of Mistal – the serpent family. Some were even calling themselves a clan. A part of the city as much as the law enforcement were. But that was only one part of Mistral. Somewhere up north of the city was basically the only part they owned. Most of their territory came from towns they practically governed in the northern most part. Somewhere near where old Atlas was, Cherven thinks.
"So, whaddya say?"
Oh, he was talking?
"You gonna come right now or what? Stay here at the gym for another hour?"
"Fine." Cherven resigned, hands up in defeat after putting on his shirt and trench coat. The towel he had just used to wipe most of the sweat off him went discarded. He heard it clatter into a nearby waste bin.
"Where are we headed then?"
"Somewhere ya' need to know about. Ever heard of Styx?"
"Styx? Never heard of it."
"Well. Good thing I got us some tickets, eh?" He flashed two black cards, white human skulls slightly popping out. It looked expensive, some rich-fancy plastic that reflected the weak light of the make-shift gym. Cherven reached for it.
"Nah-ah." The card was rushed back into Shúe's pocket. "Tomorrow. Five at the wasp nest. I'll get us a cab." He threw Cherven's pouch back at him.
'When did he—?'
Cherven quickly fixed it into his pocket. All the money was there. Silver handed bastard.
"We're not going now? I'm guessing it's a nightclub, right?" Styx. Certainly sounded like a club. Cherven had never gone to one before.
Shúe laughed. "Club? Nah. Not even close. I need to confirm with the group we're headin' out. Oh, and you're low on cash, right? You'd be a fool to pass this up, Red Bull."
Psh. Cherven doubted that would ever happen.
…
But just how would he get this money?
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Short half-chapter that marks the end of the daily upload streak. Except new chapters in around 1-3 weeks.
