Just as Tetsuhiro had expected, no guards had seen a thing, and if they had, they didn't take any actions against him. He probably could've escaped without utilizing an 'escape plan' of any sort. They were already in Coal, after all, which was a haven for prisoners and criminals. As long as he escaped here, nothing would've mattered. As long as he wasn't killing anyone in the Dyamondix mainland, they didn't care. But intimidation was fun. Very fun. Especially when it resulted in Tetsuhiro getting something he wanted or needed. Well, as fun as it could've been, anyway. He didn't feel more than a faint sense of satisfaction from his escape.
The ship was docked in a beaten-down port village, so he only had to swim for about two minutes before reaching the shore. Upon standing on the rough wooden planks, he realized with many stabs to his back that he'd forgotten his shirt back on the ship. Everything was cold and everything was painful, and it was all because of his own stupidity. Of course. Why wouldn't it be? No plan ever went entirely error-free.
Shivering as minimally as he could, Tetsuhiro trudged his way down the dock and into the village itself. Everything was dark, but he could see well enough to determine that there were no people here. A great thing, of course; he was strong physically, but if he came across anyone now, he'd probably be killed within an instant. They'd have weapons, as well as a wild nature about them that came from this environment. Then again, it was only a matter of time before Tetsuhiro developed the same.
A soft rustle caught his attention, and Tetsuhiro viewed a tattered cloth that hung off of a broken fence post. That could be a shirt for now. He had no money with him, but this place was built on crime. He'd just have to steal something. That was all. He had a distinct feeling that he'd be using that mentality a lot more often now that he was here.
He glanced over his shoulder to view the ship from which he'd 'escaped.' Would they question his disappearance? Or would they just shrug and continue with their jobs? Probably the latter. They had bigger problems than him. Or maybe they didn't. He couldn't bother to care. Not whenever he was half-naked and title-less. That mattered wherever he'd go, whether 'civilized' like Diamond or 'wild' like Coal. Dyamondix was a place where title came second only to wealth, and even then the latter usually came from the former. But title wasn't something that he couldn't acquire. Nobility meant nothing up here, simply how powerful you were. At least, that's what he thought. He couldn't be sure. Not until he'd been here for long enough to scope the scene.
As for now though, shelter was his main issue. It was around midnight, maybe one in the morning. A blanket of solid black covered the sky, no stars in sight. Perhaps there was smog here, like in some sections of Diamond. In any case, there was no moon, so he could barely see a thing, his own appendages included. There were a couple of lanterns strewn about the port village, but they were either shattered or empty of oil. It'd been centuries since these were actually used as light sources, but at this point Tetsuhiro would take a wooden torch.
At least they'd docked in an actual—formerly—inhabited place rather than just on the shore. Though mostly rotten, cracked, and overall shitty, he had a wide selection of temporary shelters to choose from. He'd move more toward the interior tomorrow. Night would spell danger for him in more ways than one. Not only was he practically blind, he was also unarmed.
Tetsuhiro stepped into the most together-looking shithole that there was. After a quick look-around, he shut the door—surprisingly still there—and tied the sheet around himself so that it somewhat resembled a shirt. Winter was approaching quicker than it was receding, and no matter how strong he was physically, he was weak to the cold like everyone else. He'd need many more clothes than the meager garments he had now, and he'd need them quickly. But that was a sword with many edges. He'd have to venture into Coal's interior, which he was going to do anyway, but he had to find a place that would have clothing. That, of course, meant that there would be people nearby, and chances were great that they wouldn't just back down and give him their things. Even if he was of a decently intimidating size and voice.
The hut's bed wasn't like his normal one, but it was a little better than his prison bed. There was a hole here and there, maybe a rat or two gnawing at the insides, but at least it was soft. And there was a decently thick sheet, too. Maybe he'd use that sheet as his makeshift coat. No one else would miss it. He hoped.
With a sigh, Tetsuhiro buried himself under the sheet and curled up a little. He felt like a child in that position, or maybe a cat. This was the comfiest he'd been in awhile. But something still wasn't right. Something still felt...missing...
Oh. Right. This was his spooning position. And he was without a little spoon.
If he could still feel feelings, he'd probably be saddened. There was a little ping of something in his stomach; that was probably it. Ah, well. At least he had somewhat of an opportunity to make his life better here. Or worse. Either way, it was better than rotting in a tunnel until he went batshit crazy or died.
Then again, part of him had already done the latter, and he knew he'd become the former after a bit of time. But hopefully there would be no tunnel in sight when that happened.
Rather than gentle waves and sleepy balminess, Tetsuhiro was awoken by intense screeching and a dull chill. The screeching undoubtedly came from a bird—no human could make that sound, and he'd heard many a human make many a sound before. But nothing ever like that hellacious amalgamation of screaming and growling. He wanted to stab himself, his ears, and the bird, all at the same time. But regrettably he didn't have enough arms for that. Well, he did, since he could both stab his ears and himself at the same time, since his ears were part of himself, but that wasn't the point. As long as the bird died, he'd be fine.
After practically beating the sleep out of himself, Tetsuhiro rose from the bed. Last night had been too dark to see anything, but while it was overcast outside, there was enough daylight that he could see around much better. There was a little dresser, the bed, and a table in the hut, which was about the size of his original prison cell if it was round. It didn't look promising in terms of housing weaponry, and following a brief look-through, his assumptions were proven right. Just broken wood, and no pieces big enough to threaten anyone, not even a small child. Then again, he hadn't encountered small children in awhile. They were probably all bastards, though, so it didn't matter.
Through the other huts he searched, until finally he came across a nasty-looking knife—it wasn't intimidating, just extremely rusted and disgusting. But when he stabbed the dresser to test it, the blade didn't break immediately, so he took that as a good sign and rolled with it.
After a bit of fanangaling, Tetsuhiro managed to affix the knife to his waist and conceal it with his makeshift coat. There was no mirror near him, at least none that he'd found. But if he could view his reflection now, he was sure he'd be seeing the most pathetic excuse for an outfit ever pieced together. But at least he wouldn't freeze his balls off—he may need those in the future, after all.
The ship was still there whenever he stepped out into the overcast daylight, but as far as he could tell, no one was anywhere near it. They probably left with the prisoners already. He wondered briefly if anyone had questioned his disappearance; or, rather, if anyone had cared. He'd already done so repeatedly since the night before, but the curiosity just hadn't been shaken yet.
He shrugged, though, and that managed to throw the curiosity away enough for now. It didn't really matter. He was already out of their custody—already free of the fate set by fear and cowardice. Though arguably he was now in a different kind of custody: the custody of Coal and all of its influence. But he'd worry about that later. For now, he walked away from the little shithole he'd temporarily called home.
Only about twenty minutes passed before he bridged the gap between dirty and city. Like most had said, the buildings stood as shells of their former selves. Some had entire tops or sides blown out, showing their crumbling, mostly hollow interiors. Rubble lined the streets, from wrappers to rotten wood to huge boulders of concrete—clear remains of the buildings' glory, if there was even any to begin with. In an attempt to eradicate the old diseases, dynamite and fire had been unleashed unto the buildings. Destructive forces would destroy the germs that produced the diseases, the government thought. Despite their hopes, they'd only succeeded in eradicating the architecture. It was a rumor, but based on what Tetsuhiro now saw, the scale tipped a little more in the way of truth.
Few roamed the streets, save for some roaches and the occasional rat. Hopefully neither creature carried anything deadly. The population had grown up or grown accustomed to the toxins, undoubtedly, but Coal was much dirtier than Diamond would ever be. Tetsuhiro had been to the 'dirtier' parts of Diamond multiple times, but this was a completely different kind of dirty.
Part of him wondered if the lack of human denizens was purposeful. Maybe this was a dangerous area of Coal that not even the hardest inhabitants traversed. Maybe some riot had occurred here that resulted in widespread death. Or perhaps there was something sacred about this area. He'd never been anything remotely close to religious—they all preached against anal love, which Tetsuhiro loved the second-most of anything in the world—but cults were popping up in a few places throughout the world. There were a few religious sociopaths that had shared the Shithole with the rest of the relatively sane people there. Most committed suicide early on, though, due to all the rape.
A few shouts hit his ears.
Seemed he'd find out if any of his reasons had merit.
The man laughed seemingly with himself in an almost purposefully obnoxious way. He was bald, with tiny eyes, a bigass mouth, and tattoos of snakes slithering about his arms and scalp. Each design was the same. On his shoulder rested a bat with a varying amount of nails and spikes embedded in the barrels. Based on how the tattoos looked, he was probably a gang or cult member, so this was probably his 'turf.'
Despite his sketchy past of rock-smashing and dick-suffocation, Tetsuhiro wasn't much of a fighter. Granted, he had the height, physique, mental capability, and experience, but he didn't like fighting. It was too much effort. So he just walked toward them levelly.
Regrettably, though, their levels weren't anywhere close to the same.
"Oi! Scowl-face."
Tetsuhiro looked to the bastard walking toward him.
"Where'd you get the shirt?"
"Why does it matter?"
He raised his barely-there eyebrows. "Ooh, look at you. Demanding information like an Aethan when you're dressed like a Tombstone."
He assumed those were derogatory in some fashion.
"You want one? I'll trade you for yours," Tetsuhiro offered.
The bastard just scoffed and laughed. It was like hearing a dog have painful sex with a drunk hyena. "Oh, you're fun! The hell you from? Aethan? Pits? Lacks?"
He just stood there. Pits was the prison area, but what the fuck did the other two mean?
"You gonna answer or not?"
More standing in confused contemplation.
"You're like a Mixer. All silent and shit. Well, if you ain't gonna talk, you may as well walk."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"You're in my way. I was always taught that pushing people's rude."
Up again went his invisible brows. "Feisty bastard, aren't ya? So you are from Aethan." He lowered his bat from his shoulder so the top rested against the ground. It was then that Tetsuhiro noticed the knife sticking out from the bottom of the weapon. "If you ain't gonna walk, then there's only one option left: fight."
"You're sure there's only one? It seems like you skipped a shitload of other options."
His already tiny eyes narrowed. "You're not from here, are ya?"
He shook his head.
"Where are you from?"
He'd probably get his head bashed in if he spoke the truth, so instead he said, "Not here."
Tetsuhiro couldn't tell if he'd offended or amused the bastard, for he smiled as he replied with, "What're you carryin'?"
He retrieved his knife from the folds of his 'clothes.' The bastard scoffed and laughed again in that dog/hyena-sex-way. Tetsuhiro felt his ears start to bleed.
He lifted his bat and smirked. "This'll be—"
Tetsuhiro kicked him in the chest and slashed his face with the knife. He managed to slice the bastard's face open, but the kick had done little more than dirty his shirt. He swung the bat, and by a miracle of life Tetsuhiro managed to dodge. Skirting around him, Tetsuhiro stabbed him in the back with an elbow. The bastard turned around and swung low. Tetsuhiro jumped to avoid it, but in a rare display of fuckery his height was his downfall—literally. The barrel of the bat hit his ankles, and he fell down. Dull pain stabbed his back, and he grunted as he hit the ground. His knife skittered away, but not far enough for him to be worried. But then a boot crushed his wrist, and all of his hopes died even more than they already had.
"You're definitely not from here," he mumbled. "You dunno a damn thing about fighting."
Maybe it was the threat of robbery and/or death talking, but Tetsuhiro thought he heard laughter. And it didn't sound like shit. It sounded...kind of nice…
The barrel pressed against Tetsuhiro's cheek. He felt the nails scratch his skin, but he couldn't tell if anything was bleeding. "You probably don't have shit on ya. But bones are always good for trade…"
The laughter picked up again, now to the left of him. Tetsuhiro shifted his gaze, but no people stood anywhere in that vicinity.
"Oi!" The pressure on his wrist increased, and Tetsuhiro hissed. "The fuck're you looking at?" His head turned to the left.
And then it was gone.
Or, rather, it and the rest of his body stumbled to the left. Part of his skull had been crushed, evidenced by the massive bloody hole that now resided on the side of his head. Instantly Tetsuhiro crawled back and rose to his feet.
"Shit, I missed," an admittedly attractive voice grumbled.
His eyes shifted, right this time, and it was then that he noticed the new addition to the conflict. The new guy moved before he could accurately take in his appearance, but he moved with a kind of skillful grace that was equate to a dancer's. He darted to the side of Tetsuhiro's attacker, still recovering from the wound he'd received. He swung some kind of pole, which caused a ball on a chain to wrap around the bastard's neck. His booted foot forced him to the ground, and he yanked the chain back for what Tetsuhiro assumed was asphyxiation.
"You feel that?" the new one asked. "That's the feeling of stupidity biting you in the ass. Or, in this case, choking you." He laughed under his breath, a sound that made Tetsuhiro tingle a little in the southern regions. "Talking about 'you don't know how to fight' when you're attacking someone with a knife with a Nail-Bar. Fuckin' dumbass."
He twisted his wrist a few ways, and somehow the chain completely unraveled from around his neck. The bald one gasped for breath.
"No one told your mouth nor your ass to breathe." He swung his pole downward, and a blade popped out. Five seconds later, that blade was embedded in his head, and seven seconds later his body was still and lifeless.
It was then when Tetsuhiro could behold him properly. The first feature he noticed was his hair. It was long and flowed down past his well-defined ass, silvery blonde in color. The sides were pulled up, and the middle section was teased, giving him massive amounts of volume. His eyes were a piercing shade of orange-brown, faintly surrounded by black eyeliner. He was shorter than Tetsuhiro but definitely not much weaker. His black clothes hugged his body, leaving every line practically exposed. His boots stretched to his knees, decorated with chains and buckles that shined even in the dim sunlight. How he'd managed to move, let alone so gracefully, was beyond Tetsuhiro.
And then there was his weapon. What he'd thought was a pole was actually a black hilt, with a blade that apparently folded and retracted within. Extending from the bottom of the hilt was a thin but strong chain, at the end of which was a grey ball. A small button rested on the top of the ball, and little holes dotted the surface. Retractable spikes, probably.
His intense eyes stared into Tetsuhiro's stunned ones. Then they went down, and then down a little further. His lips twisted as he stared in the direction of Tetsuhiro's groin. Then they went up again, back to his eyes. He was about an inch shorter than Tetsuhiro, but his boots were platforms, which added at least three inches to his height.
He nodded once. "You're gonna die."
Tetsuhiro blinked. "What?"
"You're gonna die," he repeated.
"What?" he asked again.
His gaze flattened. "Really, motherfucker?" He sighed. "Look at me. In the face. I know I'm a beautiful creature, but my dick's not the best with conversation." The whole time Tetsuhiro's eyes hadn't moved. "All right." He poked Tetsuhiro's chest. "You're from West, right?"
"West?"
Another sigh. "Yeah, you're from West," he mumbled. He nodded to the right. "Follow me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm gonna help your ass not die as quickly. But I'm not doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I have none of that. I'm doing it because you are the sexiest thing that has crossed my path in a long time. Save for my reflection, anyway."
He wasn't sure whether that was a compliment or insult. "What's your name?"
He scoffed. "Well, it's changed a lot, but at the moment, it's Tyrant."
Based on the weapon and air of strength he carried, Tetsuhiro could see why. "How can I know that I can trust you?"
"Because I just saved your lovely ass from being raped and dissected for your organs." He patted Tetsuhiro's cheek almost affectionately. "Now come on and follow me, you sexy beast."
