I did it! I'm on top! Day 3 of Copperright Week: posted on day 3! Double feature! Way past cool! Rock out!
Anyway, day 3's prompt is "Protection", and while I'm a firm believer in sopping wet cat Reginald supremacy, I really like the idea of Reginald going absolutely FERAL over making sure his Right Hand Man is safe. Plus, I saw someone somewhere saying they wanted to see more protective Reginald stuff, so here we go! See you at the bottom of the page!
"Chief!" Several Toppats ran into the control room of the airship, tripping over themselves as they approached the pilot's chair.
Reginald Copperbottom turned his head slightly to watch them approach, never taking his hands off the wheel.
Sven Svenson, who had been reading out a series of reports about the finances of the clan, turned and glared at the new arrivals. "What is it? The chief is busy right now."
The new Toppats were in disarray, their clothes torn and scorched slightly. One of them was even missing a shoe. "Sorry to bother you, chief," the leader of the group said. "But we have some bad news."
"You were assigned to scout out that abandoned warehouse near the Dogobogo jungle, right?" Sven noted. "Wasn't the right hand man leading that mission? Why aren't you reporting to him?" The Toppats glanced at each other. Sven sighed shortly. "There's a hierarchy for a reason; if you haven't reported your findings- or lack thereof- to your mission leader already, then you need to do so-"
"The right hand man was taken hostage by a rival clan!" A Toppat wailed.
There was a moment of silence, aside from the hum of the airship's engines. Then Sven exploded. "What?! Why didn't you start with that?!"
"We were about to," the group leader gritted out, "but then you started rambling, as usual-!"
"Are you trying to blame me for your lack of tact?" Sven threw up his hands, accidentally scattering his reports all over the floor. He swore in Swedish before kneeling down to pick it all up. "I can't believe the nerve you have! I'm just trying to do my work, unlike some people-"
Burt Curtis, who had been listening in while repairing the airship's audio system, stopped what he was doing. "Uh, Sven-?"
"-And then all of you come barging in, going on about 'bad news', as if news as bad as the right hand man being taken hostage deserves any pleasantries!"
"Sven-?"
"And now I'm stuck explaining everything to you all while the chief has to figure out how to organize a rescue, if one even can be organized, and you-"
"Svenie~!"
Sven turned to Burt so fast his bones cracked from whiplash. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT IN PUBLIC!"
"But I needed your attention," Burt insisted.
"Fine, what is it?"
"The chief left as soon as the right hand man was mentioned."
"WHAT?!" Sven whipped his head to the pilot's chair, which was spinning slowly to a stop. The autopilot button was blinking actively. "BURT!"
"Yeah?"
"Where did the chief go?"
"I dunno."
"Burt!"
"What? He probably went to organize a rescue."
"...Ah." Sven took a slow, deep breath. "Well, I suppose that makes sense-"
"Nevermind, I just saw an escape pod leaving through the window. Pretty sure he's gonna rescue him himself."
"BURT!"
"What?"
*Right Hand Man's POV*
Another fist connected with his jaw, but Right did little more than grunt. The men surrounding him- some "rival clan" that he'd never heard of- had been taking their turns with him for a while, and while he didn't exactly like being chained to a chair and forced to take hits, it could have been worse. They hadn't pulled any blades on him yet, just using their shoes and fists to make his skin ripe with bruises. Someone kicked him in the stomach hard enough to knock the chair over, smacking his head into the cold concrete floor. Yep. Could have been worse.
"You think you're so tough?" One of the men growled, grabbing him by his hair. Right glared at him. The hair was a no-touching zone. As soon as one of them busted the chain holding him down, he was a dead man. "You'll crack sooner or later; you'll join us, or you'll join the devil in hell!"
Right kept careful control of his face. That was probably one of the better one-liners he'd had yelled into his ear, but it was still ridiculous. Luckily, Right was a master of the waiting game. Someone was going to crack, but it sure wouldn't be him.
Right braced himself for another kick to the shin when a loud buzz of static sounded out. One of the men- probably the leader, though Right wasn't entirely sure- sighed and pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. "Yeah?"
"Sir!" Someone shouted on the other side. Strange sounds echoed in the background, creating a series of static bursts that nearly overpowered the voice. "We're under attack!"
The walkie-talkie man sighed shortly. "Then do something about it; I'm busy."
"No! I mean we're literally getting killed out here!" Someone yelled a death rattle and the speaker swore. "I think someone sent an assassin after us!"
"Assassin's don't exist, idiot," the man growled. "Tell me what's happening out there. Is it a raid? How many are there?"
"We only saw the one, but he's crazy! He has, like, swords and crap! Who the hell uses swords? And- no, no, noooaaAUGH-!"
There was a loud crunching sound, and the line went dead. The men all stood there silently, not moving an inch.
"...Okay," the leader said slowly, putting the walkie-talkie in his pocket. "Gentlemen, we may have an assassin on our base-"
Right barked a laugh. He couldn't help himself. Instantly, all eyes were on him.
"Oh, you think it's funny we're dying, huh?" The leader growled, pressing his heel into Right's head, forcing him harder into the floor. "Well, your little assassin friend is fresh out of luck; there's no way he'll find-"
There was a loud bang on the metal door of the room. Everyone whipped their heads toward it as another bang put a dent in the door. The leader swore and grabbed Right by the back of his neck, dragging him to the opposite wall.
With another bang, the door fell off its hinges. The man behind the door was soaked in blood, with a gun in one hand and a sword in the other. With a twitch of his wrist, a bullet lodged itself in the head of everyone except Right and the man who was now holding a dinky little pocket knife to his neck.
"Take another step and I'll kill him!" The man shrieked, pointing the blade shakily at Right's jugular.
The assassin stopped, taking a long, hard look at the two before him. After a moment, he drew out a short sigh. "Honestly, Right, you're just toying with the fool at this point. What are you sitting around for?"
Right breathed a laugh. "Admiring the view, that's all."
Reginald scoffed. "You can admire it all you like later. For now-"
"A-are you idiots crazy? I said I have a-" Right grabbed the pocket knife carefully with his teeth, tugging it out of the man's grasp and tossing it across the room. With a flick of his other wrist, Reginald plunged the sword into the man's chest, leaving him a gurgling, choking mess until the light finally left his eyes.
Reginald rolled his shoulders, leaning his head back and sighing deeply before dropping his weapons and kneeling to pick the lock on Right's chains. "You'll be the death of me one day, I swear," he grumbled.
Right flexed his arms and legs as the chains were finally loosened. "They got a lucky shot at me; what can I say?"
"You can say that you'll be more careful next time." Reginald put his weapons in their holsters and helped Right to his feet. ""Honestly, making me worry like that and drop everything to come for you…"
Right raised an eyebrow. "Were you busy?"
"Dreadfully. Sven was regaling me with the finance reports from each division of the clan, page by page, expense by expense."
"Riveting. Speaking of the clan, these guys claimed they were a rival of ours. Recognize any of them?"
"I've never seen them a day in my life. But enough of that now." After Right could clearly stand on his own, Reginald promptly leapt into his arms, draping himself on him dramatically. "My day is ruined! My weapons; tarnished by unworthy blood! My clothes; stained beyond repair! My heart; aching rawly at my right hand's narrow escape from death! I simply cannot go on!"
Right smirked and adjusted his grip. "Guess I've got to repay you for saving me, then."
"You most certainly will!" Reginald wrapped his arms around Right's neck. After a moment, he gently traced a finger along Right's jaw, leaning close to his ear. "You're not invincible, Right. I do wish you'd be more careful with yourself."
Right sighed, gently pressing his forehead against Reginald's. "It'll take more than a couple of try-hards to kill me. You got nothing to worry about."
Reginald closed his eyes, running a thumb across Right's cheek. "You know I can't help it. Do it for me?"
Right nodded after a moment. "Only for you, Reg. Now let's go; you've got more reports to hear about."
Reginald groaned, pulling back and setting the back of his hand against his forehead. "Don't remind me. I can practically hear Sven's voice even now. I swear the boy is afraid of silence…"
Right chuckled, then began to make the long trek out of the warehouse. "Sometimes, I wonder…"
These two are silly. I want to cut them into thin slices and examine each slice individually under a microscope.
I imagine this is before Infiltrating the Airship, before Henry showed up and screwed the Toppats up in one way or another, so Right here is a little more cocky than I'd usually present him. Definitely scarred up, but still with that sort of "nothing can really hurt me in a way that matters" confidence. Too bad he's wrong.
Speaking of which, day 4 will be written and posted tomorrow! Be sure to leave a review and tell me what you thought of this one; and I'll see you later. Until then!