Chapter 1

The drinks at the Bald Pigeon were always watered down, but with a name like that, you couldn't expect too much from it. Rubarb didn't like getting too drunk too fast anyway. Weaker drinks gave him time to relax. Gave him more time to observe before his senses began to dull. He wasn't a very big man, and if things went as he expected, he needed to be on the top of his game.

Rubarb stood at a normal height, but that was the only thing normal about him. He was a man of wiry strength, and dark brown skin. He had long dreadlocks and a rainbow bandana around his head, and a colorful neon green tank top and bright red pants to finish off his colorful ensemble. The strangest thing about him though was the turtle shell he strapped to his arm with a leather band.

His clothes were old and dirty, even the shell was marred and scared from swords, axe, and fist, but it remained unbroken. It made Rubarb fiercely proud thinking of it, as he took another deep drink of his watery beer.

Of course Rubarb wasn't his real name. He never used his real name. When he was growing up getting his ass beat by the neighborhood kids and older bullies before he learned to fight, that's what they used to call him. Rhubarb would always sprout up anywhere and was hard to kill, so the name seemed apt for the tenacious kid who wouldn't back down.

He knew they'd be here tonight. He hoped they'd be here tonight, at least. It wasn't a very popular bar. Besides himself, there was an old man smoking a cigarette working on a drink and reading a newspaper. In the corner of the bar there was a fat slob of a man passed out on a table with his hand still gripping his cup. If someone didn't want to be noticed, this would be a good place to be. The desperate little thief's partner he managed to talk with had told him they were going to meet him here.

He might have warned him. He thought just before the double doors opened and a scrawny man wrapped in a black coat and dirty jeans walked in. A mess of black hair leaked out from under his beanie and his eyes were concealed in sunglasses. He looks like a caricature of a criminal.

The man sat on the edge of the bar and raised one finger, and the portly bartender went off to fill a cup. Rubarb stood up and walked slowly towards where he was seated, and pulled a stool up next to him and crossed his hands on the table.

"This doesn't have to be difficult" Rubarb said softly, staring at the young thief. But it was always difficult. When peoples backs were pressed to the wall, the only thing they could do was fight. This mans name was James Corelli, he'd pulled a knife on a young storeowner and took $300 from the register before taking off, leaving the shop keeper shaken and with a gash across his chest. He'd live, but it definitely ruined his week.

"You don't even know me man. Just leave me alone." The man said. He was visibly shaken, even as he walked in the door. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well lately, and he reeked of sweat.

"Sorry. Not going to happen" Rubarb said, as the bartender set the cup in front of the James. Wasting no time, he grabbed the cup and slammed it down towards Rubarb. He barely had time to lift his arm and block the blow. Luckily Rubarb was quick to fuse with his turtle shell, and glass couldn't cut the carapace that now covered the entirety of his arm. He was ready for a fight after all. It wasn't anything he didn't expect. Rubarb raised his fist and grabbed James by the scruff of his shirt and slammed him onto the ground. It only took one fist hammered into James face to put him to sleep.

Rubarb always felt bad having to hurt someone so much weaker than himself, but work was work, and he had resisted. He reached into his pocket and threw some dollars down on the counter, and a few extra coins for the trouble he caused.
His arm started to turn back into skin and bone as the turtle shell fell back into Rubarb's hand. He pretended not to notice the bar staring at him as he tied the shell back to his arm, and threw James over his shoulder to take him outside.

Rubarb put a coin in a payphone and dialed for the police and let them know he needed them to come pickup his prize. He then laid back next to James unconscious body and waited. I should have enough money to get out of this town now.

It took a good twenty minutes before the police arrived, and by then James had come to. Rubarb hoped he would, being knocked unconscious for that long would have probably caused brain damage; and he didn't want to have mentally damaging somebody on his conscious. Even if he was a criminal.

"You capture this one yourself?" The policeman asked. He was a large, fat man in a blue uniform with a star on his chest. He had white gloves on and a baton on his waist, and was bending down to take a good luck at James bruised face.

"I'm the only one here aren't I?"

"No need to be a smart ass." The officer said, "I have your money in the car. Wait here." He grabbed James by the shoulder and pulled him roughly to his feet and forced his hands behind his back, putting zip ties around his wrist and leading him to his police car. He didn't resist. He had a defeated, dead look in his eyes, and for a second Rubarb felt a sting of pity.

After the officer put James in the back, he went to the front seat and brought out a brief case. He opened it and counted out money, mumbling to himself as he counted, "$100. Here you go, kid."

"Wasn't it $300?" Rubarb spat out.

"For this guy? You're lucky I'm giving you anything."
Rubarb glared at the officer, clenched his fist, and then thought better of it. He didn't need to strike an officer and suddenly find himself wanted. He'd heard stories about the people who attacked the police. Even if he was strong, the police were like a hive. He could take one but they had such numbers and could hunt him down. Even if he managed to get away from the grunts, then they'd send the special fusion forces after him, and then he'd have be in a predicament.

"You gonna hit me? Are you going to threatening an officer?" The plump officer said, getting right in Rubarbs face. He could smell alcohol on his breath and took a step back.

"Of course not. Thanks for the money." He said and quickly turned around, Enough money to start this little adventure of mine at least.