Alright, here's my attempt at a second chapter for this thing. Quick
summary: Spike woke up from cold sleep after getting killed by Vicious,
throttled a doctor, stole his clothes, pick pocketed somebody, stole their
wallet and bought new clothes, then he went into a bar. Yeah. It'll all get
explained. I hope.
Disclaimer: If I owned Cowboy Bebop, then this wouldn't be FANfiction now, would it? Right.
Dreaming - Chapter Two.
XXXXX
The first thing Spike noticed in the bar was the smell. Rancid and rotten, it seemed to coat everything in the area, soaking itself into Spike's very pores.
The second thing Spike noticed was the silence. Yes, everybody stopped talking when somebody they hadn't seen entered the bar. It was critical, in a way. That was the time for the bar occupant to size up the newcomer, and the newcomer to decide if he REALLY needed a drink that bad.
But somehow, this silence was different. There was tension here, more so than usual. Spike didn't know why, but he felt like he was expected to do something. What, Spike couldn't imagine.
Walking up to the bar, Spike asked for a beer. Normally, the silence would stop here.
It didn't. Obviously Spike hadn't done anything yet. Or at least, Spike hadn't done anything incredible yet.
Well, far be it for Spike to disappoint all the people here. After a quick scan of the bar, Spike walked up to who looked like the toughest guy in here.
Looking at the guy, Spike could see that the tension was building even more.
Spike greeted the man, in his customary way.
"Yo".
The guy stared at him for a couple seconds, then returned the greeting, in his fashion. "Whaddaya want?" He asked, voice rough.
Spike smiled at him disarmingly. "Ah, I just wanted to ask you a question, is all".
The guy glared at him, not fooled by his jovial manner. "Well, ask it and go away. Ah'm busy here".
Spike's smile grew even wider. Carefully, he tensed his right arm, then loosened it. "Well, here's the question". Very carefully, he got right next to the guy's ear and spoke softly. "What would you do.if I broke your nose right now?"
The guy contemplated that, coming right back with the wittiest answer ever. "Huh?" You could see the lack of comprehension on his face.
So Spike grabbed the guy's head and slammed it into the table, breaking his nose. "Ya know, if I did that. What would you do?"
The guy wasn't really in any shape to answer, so Spike shrugged and moved away. Getting his beer, he addressed the bar as a whole.
"Alright, let's try something a little simpler. If I wanted to find the mob, where would I look?"
The mob question was a calculated risk Spike was taking. If anybody had the ability to sneak Spike into a Cold Sleep facility with nobody noticing, it would be the mob.
The silence continued. Spike frowned, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Selecting somebody at random, Spike walked over to the table while nursing his beer.
"How about you? Ya know where I would find the Mob?"
Spike couldn't help smiling internally, the poor guy looked like he was going to faint any minute.
"Usually, people don' go lookin' fer da mob, da mob goes lookin' fer dem."
Spike turned and zeroed in on the speaker. It was an old guy, probably homeless. He was sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, with a rattle old blanket wrapped around him. His straggly white hair reached down nearly to the floor, and his bony old hands protectively clutched a tankard of something black and steaming.
"But if I was you, I'd go ta da junkyard. I've heard sed that da mob can be found dere, if ya got the money ta intrest 'em". Wheezing softly, the old man's head sank down to his chest. Slowly, he took a drink and was rejuvenated, bringing his head up to look Spike in the eyes. "Yes, that'd be wad I'd do, if I was you". Slowly, his voice began to slur. "Yesh, shurly yeh kin fahndem thare, if yeh jusht look harhd 'nuff". His head slipping back down to his chest, he began to snore quietly.
Spike walked over and picked the man up by the blanket, shaking him roughly. "What junkyard, old man? Why would the mob be there? If you're fooling with me I swear you'll regret it". With the threats unheard, the old man only slept peacefully. Spike set the man down. Turning, he glared at everybody and they looked away. Quickly, Spike tucked the semi-full wallet into the man's blanket. He would find it when he woke up, perhaps he could find a place to stay. There was enough in there for a new blanket, at the very least.
Setting the beer down next to the old man, Spike quickly and purposefully walked out of the bar. Simultaneously, everybody relaxed.
"Well, he's back", commented one patron quietly. "Anybody know what's up with all that mob-talk?"
Conversation ceased quickly as the doors opened once again.
Spike grabbed the nearest man by the collar. Growling in his face, Spike asked him, "You. Where's the nearest junkyard?"
Pointing, the man indicated the direction. Spike smiled. "Thanks", he stated. He turned, and walked right out of the bar again.
The bartender sighed. "Yep, that's Spike".
XXXXX
Spike picked up a piece of junk. Looking at it, he decided it wasn't worth it to lug it around town until he found the Bebop, so he threw it over his shoulder.
"Stupid old man", Spike muttered. "Stupid old drunk man". Spike kicked an old refrigerator in anger. "Aw, yeah, jess go to the damn junkyard, the mob'll be there, I swear on my left nut". Spike mimicked the old man, angry at him. "There's no mob here, and why would there be? This is just a stupid old junkyard. All that's in here is just stupid old junk people threw away. They didn't give it to the stupid old mob, what would the mob want with people's old junk? Never should have listened to that stupid old man.I bet he'd fit in this fridge pretty damn nicely".
Turning, Spike left the junkyard. By virtue of the fact that Spike lacked a second pair of eyes in the back of his head, he failed to see a head pop up out of the junk. The head disappeared, only to reappear a good twenty feet closer to Spike.
Spike turned around quickly, with his fingers pointed like a gun. The decided lack of anything interesting made him turn back, blushing slightly.
The head popped up again. It was promptly followed by shoulders, torso, legs, and feet. Spiderlike, the child smoothly crawled down the pile of trash. Spike kept on walking, and the child kept on crawling.
Swiftly, Spike lunged backwards and turned, grabbing the child by the shirt. Yanking said child upwards, Spike began to snarl at her. "Alright, Ed, I've had enough of your games. What are you-" Spike stopped, and the child smiled happily at him.
"Hello, Spikey". XXXXX
Alright, that's done with. I'm actually having fun with this, though I have no idea where it's going. I should probably write that out, otherwise I just know I'll end up in a hole. Ah well, I'm a risk taker by nature.
Hey, any of you guys read the new Harry Potter book? I got it at about 1 AM the day it was released, and I got home at about 1:30. I sat down on the couch and read until 6:30. Yes, that means I didn't get any sleep, but it was TOTALLY worth it. That's a damn fine book, in my opinion.
On a different note, how many ya'll read Webcomics? I'm a Penny Arcade and MegaTokyo man myself, but a friend of mine likes Control Alt Delete. How about you?
New note altogether, any of you watch Sealab 2021? That show is funny, I swear. My friends all think it's stupid, but that's what they say about anything I like. Oh well. I usually just ignore them. Or I mouth off and end up getting punched. Or something. I'm used to it, 'sall good. Yeah. I'll shut up now.
I'll try to get the next chapter to you sometime by this Friday, but I really have no idea. Sorry.
Disclaimer: If I owned Cowboy Bebop, then this wouldn't be FANfiction now, would it? Right.
Dreaming - Chapter Two.
XXXXX
The first thing Spike noticed in the bar was the smell. Rancid and rotten, it seemed to coat everything in the area, soaking itself into Spike's very pores.
The second thing Spike noticed was the silence. Yes, everybody stopped talking when somebody they hadn't seen entered the bar. It was critical, in a way. That was the time for the bar occupant to size up the newcomer, and the newcomer to decide if he REALLY needed a drink that bad.
But somehow, this silence was different. There was tension here, more so than usual. Spike didn't know why, but he felt like he was expected to do something. What, Spike couldn't imagine.
Walking up to the bar, Spike asked for a beer. Normally, the silence would stop here.
It didn't. Obviously Spike hadn't done anything yet. Or at least, Spike hadn't done anything incredible yet.
Well, far be it for Spike to disappoint all the people here. After a quick scan of the bar, Spike walked up to who looked like the toughest guy in here.
Looking at the guy, Spike could see that the tension was building even more.
Spike greeted the man, in his customary way.
"Yo".
The guy stared at him for a couple seconds, then returned the greeting, in his fashion. "Whaddaya want?" He asked, voice rough.
Spike smiled at him disarmingly. "Ah, I just wanted to ask you a question, is all".
The guy glared at him, not fooled by his jovial manner. "Well, ask it and go away. Ah'm busy here".
Spike's smile grew even wider. Carefully, he tensed his right arm, then loosened it. "Well, here's the question". Very carefully, he got right next to the guy's ear and spoke softly. "What would you do.if I broke your nose right now?"
The guy contemplated that, coming right back with the wittiest answer ever. "Huh?" You could see the lack of comprehension on his face.
So Spike grabbed the guy's head and slammed it into the table, breaking his nose. "Ya know, if I did that. What would you do?"
The guy wasn't really in any shape to answer, so Spike shrugged and moved away. Getting his beer, he addressed the bar as a whole.
"Alright, let's try something a little simpler. If I wanted to find the mob, where would I look?"
The mob question was a calculated risk Spike was taking. If anybody had the ability to sneak Spike into a Cold Sleep facility with nobody noticing, it would be the mob.
The silence continued. Spike frowned, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Selecting somebody at random, Spike walked over to the table while nursing his beer.
"How about you? Ya know where I would find the Mob?"
Spike couldn't help smiling internally, the poor guy looked like he was going to faint any minute.
"Usually, people don' go lookin' fer da mob, da mob goes lookin' fer dem."
Spike turned and zeroed in on the speaker. It was an old guy, probably homeless. He was sitting on the floor next to the fireplace, with a rattle old blanket wrapped around him. His straggly white hair reached down nearly to the floor, and his bony old hands protectively clutched a tankard of something black and steaming.
"But if I was you, I'd go ta da junkyard. I've heard sed that da mob can be found dere, if ya got the money ta intrest 'em". Wheezing softly, the old man's head sank down to his chest. Slowly, he took a drink and was rejuvenated, bringing his head up to look Spike in the eyes. "Yes, that'd be wad I'd do, if I was you". Slowly, his voice began to slur. "Yesh, shurly yeh kin fahndem thare, if yeh jusht look harhd 'nuff". His head slipping back down to his chest, he began to snore quietly.
Spike walked over and picked the man up by the blanket, shaking him roughly. "What junkyard, old man? Why would the mob be there? If you're fooling with me I swear you'll regret it". With the threats unheard, the old man only slept peacefully. Spike set the man down. Turning, he glared at everybody and they looked away. Quickly, Spike tucked the semi-full wallet into the man's blanket. He would find it when he woke up, perhaps he could find a place to stay. There was enough in there for a new blanket, at the very least.
Setting the beer down next to the old man, Spike quickly and purposefully walked out of the bar. Simultaneously, everybody relaxed.
"Well, he's back", commented one patron quietly. "Anybody know what's up with all that mob-talk?"
Conversation ceased quickly as the doors opened once again.
Spike grabbed the nearest man by the collar. Growling in his face, Spike asked him, "You. Where's the nearest junkyard?"
Pointing, the man indicated the direction. Spike smiled. "Thanks", he stated. He turned, and walked right out of the bar again.
The bartender sighed. "Yep, that's Spike".
XXXXX
Spike picked up a piece of junk. Looking at it, he decided it wasn't worth it to lug it around town until he found the Bebop, so he threw it over his shoulder.
"Stupid old man", Spike muttered. "Stupid old drunk man". Spike kicked an old refrigerator in anger. "Aw, yeah, jess go to the damn junkyard, the mob'll be there, I swear on my left nut". Spike mimicked the old man, angry at him. "There's no mob here, and why would there be? This is just a stupid old junkyard. All that's in here is just stupid old junk people threw away. They didn't give it to the stupid old mob, what would the mob want with people's old junk? Never should have listened to that stupid old man.I bet he'd fit in this fridge pretty damn nicely".
Turning, Spike left the junkyard. By virtue of the fact that Spike lacked a second pair of eyes in the back of his head, he failed to see a head pop up out of the junk. The head disappeared, only to reappear a good twenty feet closer to Spike.
Spike turned around quickly, with his fingers pointed like a gun. The decided lack of anything interesting made him turn back, blushing slightly.
The head popped up again. It was promptly followed by shoulders, torso, legs, and feet. Spiderlike, the child smoothly crawled down the pile of trash. Spike kept on walking, and the child kept on crawling.
Swiftly, Spike lunged backwards and turned, grabbing the child by the shirt. Yanking said child upwards, Spike began to snarl at her. "Alright, Ed, I've had enough of your games. What are you-" Spike stopped, and the child smiled happily at him.
"Hello, Spikey". XXXXX
Alright, that's done with. I'm actually having fun with this, though I have no idea where it's going. I should probably write that out, otherwise I just know I'll end up in a hole. Ah well, I'm a risk taker by nature.
Hey, any of you guys read the new Harry Potter book? I got it at about 1 AM the day it was released, and I got home at about 1:30. I sat down on the couch and read until 6:30. Yes, that means I didn't get any sleep, but it was TOTALLY worth it. That's a damn fine book, in my opinion.
On a different note, how many ya'll read Webcomics? I'm a Penny Arcade and MegaTokyo man myself, but a friend of mine likes Control Alt Delete. How about you?
New note altogether, any of you watch Sealab 2021? That show is funny, I swear. My friends all think it's stupid, but that's what they say about anything I like. Oh well. I usually just ignore them. Or I mouth off and end up getting punched. Or something. I'm used to it, 'sall good. Yeah. I'll shut up now.
I'll try to get the next chapter to you sometime by this Friday, but I really have no idea. Sorry.
