One week later…
It should have been just another ordinary day for Avdol. Where he would be carrying out menial tasks like coasting around Laylom, La Lande, and (as of now) Jardin d'Alegria. As Angus's lieutenant, he was sent out to accompany Léon to deliver drugs to their buyers when the unthinkable occurred.
It could have been a good day in the sense that violence wouldn't escalate beyond his control. Much to his distress, what started off as business as usual, quickly turned the tables into what was now a battle between them and Motorhead. Word had somehow reached Geil about their meetup with the buyers. Now, he and Léon were cornered — wreaking mayhem out in broad daylight amidst Iommi's news broadcast.
"Annnnnd good afternoon, Paris!" Iommi's voice announced from a monitor approximately three stories high. "This is your favorite devilishly handsome anchorman once again bringing you the hottest news."
RTTTTTTTT
CRACK
RTTTTTTT
"Officials of Skid Row sat down with —"
CRACK
POW
RTTTTTT
"...the political climate —"
RTTTTTT
CHK
CHK
"Fuck! I'm out!" Léon seethed, crouching with his back against an abandoned vehicle in the middle of the street.
"Sit tight," Avdol said. "I'll take care of these two."
Poking his head up over the hood of the car, he peered down the barrel of his gun, steadied his aim on the target, and squeezed the trigger. Blood spurted from the man's head, and his lifeless form sank limply to the asphalt. Clattering to the ground next to him was an assault rifle that misfired, causing a strafe of bullets to hit the misfortunate souls hurrying to evacuate the premises.
Numbing guilt froze Avdol in place. No… he didn't mean for that to happen. That wasn't what he intended! Too lost in regret to realize two more cars arriving on the scene, Léon jolted him out of his trance by springing up over the back of the car with a grenade launcher.
"You fuckers want some more?! Here you go!"
Avdol's eyes went wide. "Léon, don't!"
Too late.
Léon squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. The impact grenade was jammed. "Shit!" he shouted. In a panic, he grabbed Avdol, who snapped to his senses, by the hand and immediately chucked the gun as they retreated.
KABLAM!
Avdol barrel rolled over the concrete, its rough, hard body scraping him along his arms and shoulders. The impact of his body hitting the ground reeled his brain, creating a pulsing headache he'd soon regret. Piercing ringing deafened his ears. About five feet next to him, he could somewhat discern Léon propping himself up off the pavement, his head hanging.
Muffled gunfire alerted his attention back to the blazing debris caused by the explosion. It took him a minute to realize what was going on amidst the blur, until a bullet hitting him next to his shoulder made him snap to reality; two Motorhead members were firing from across the street!
Shit!
He quickly crawled over to Léon, scrambled to get on his own two feet, and grabbed a hold of his arm to drag him out of there. "Léon!" His voice was gradually trailing back into perception, though it was still fuzzy. Léon acted as though he could barely see straight, blinking his eyes as if he had no recollection of where he was.
"Come on!" Avdol strained, tugging him behind another car for cover.
Bullets pinged off of metal, prompting intense emotions to well up in his chest. Feeling as though his heart was about to explode from his chest, he prayed that neither of them would get caught in the crossfire again. He prayed that their allies would come speeding up the street to their rescue. When help did arrive on the scene, it was already too late.
Quiet Riot was immediately overwhelmed by the amount of Motorhead members. It wasn't just an ambush, it was an all-out war. With his strength amplified by the effects of channeling Drive, he took slower breaths and heaved Léon up on his back, speeding off down an alley. For now, they were out of range. But he suspected that wouldn't last much longer.
Avdol carefully sat him against the wall. "Shit, my leg hurts…" Léon rasped.
He checked and what he saw heightened Avdol's anxiety. Lodged in Léon's thigh was a large chunk of shrapnel. To make matters worse, a multitude of police sirens howled over the machine gun fire in the distance, drawing closer to their location. "Khara!" he cursed under his breath.
Thoughts rapidly raced. What should he do first? Obviously not worry about himself, he'd manage for the time being. The only next course of action he could think of was to tend to Léon's leg injury. But where to start…
I get the feeling I'd better not remove this or he'll just bleed to death. That only made him panic more, until he got an idea. Alright. I don't know how long this will take, but it's the best we've got. Fingers shook vigorously as he reached to remove the fragment, occasionally eyeing Léon with quickened breath. I'd better talk him through this. No, just do it quickly. Urghhh! Come on, Abbas, you're the Drive user. You've got this.
He steeled himself, inhaled air steadily into his lungs, and channeled his red aura through his arm and down to his fingertips. I will get you to safety… whatever it takes. Placing his other hand over Léon's leg, he prepared to transfer Drive, while also mentally preparing himself to dislodge the fragment with the other hand. He squeezed his eyes closed, took a breath, held it, and counted to 2 in his head.
SQUELCH
Léon's pained cry roared off the alley walls, his next scream barricaded behind gritted teeth. The worst part was over; Avdol breathed a sigh of relief, hating the fact that he had to hurt him. Though at the very least, he could finally give him the urgent care he needed. Avdol's intent shifted to his breath. The Drive he was transferring into Léon's leg began to accelerate the regrowth of skin tissue and muscle. Through it all, Avdol remained calm, keeping a sharp focus on his breathing, and the drive to get Léon out of harm's way.
"Alright," he said, finishing up the healing process. "That should do it."
"God damn that hurt…!"
Leaving the destruction behind them, the two managed to make it safely out of the warzone and back to the quarry. Though Avdol wished he could say the same for other Quiet Riot members. So many lives were lost; both innocent and sinful. He was grateful to have Léon and Tenmei still by his side, but the new changes — the changes nobody could've expected — would take some time adjusting to.
JULY 24, 3099
MOTORHEAD CONQUERS JARDIN D'ALEGRIA TERRITORY
"That's the second time this week…" Angus's voice was low, rife with dismay. He leaned over the workshop counter in Tenmei's room, hanging his head in shame. Seated at the table behind him were Avdol, Léon, and Tenmei; all grieving the loss of yet another territory.
"First Fontaine Park," Tenmei mourned. "Now Jardin d'Alegria…"
Léon scowled down at the table, irked by the lousy turn of events. "How the fuck do they keep getting the jump on us? It's like they know every buyer's location…"
"My guess is there's a rat in our midsts," Angus surmised.
Léon glanced up. "What, you think one of our guys are working with them?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense right now." Angus turned around. "You boys grill the others; squeeze whatever information you can out of everybody."
Tenmei blinked. "What?! But…! That's a lot of people!"
"Somebody's going behind our backs, and I demand to know who!"
Rising up out of his chair, Léon pressed his palms to the table. "Honestly, I think it's worth looking into. They took our drugs and our neighborhoods. If we keep sitting around on our asses like everything's fine, this shit'll just happen all over again. One way to find out is to start from the inside and work our way out. If someone is snitching on us, and I find out who they are…" He dared not finish that sentence.
"We'll fire them!" Tenmei fist pumped.
"Oh-ho, I'll do more than that," Léon added. "I'll curb stomp that son of a bitch."
Tenmei scratched his chin, chuckling anxiously. "How about we punish them a different way?"
Léon stared incredulously. "Oh, yeah? Like how?"
"Like I said! We take their finances, their substances, everything. And then, we put it somewhere else." Tenmei waved his hand to hammer home his point. " Thennnn, when they come begging for their job back, this is what you can say to them, Léon." He did his best impersonation of him, mimicking his voice. "Sorry, no takesies backsies. You are the biggest offense of our life. Later, traitor!"
Léon stared and stared. "Yeah, I'm not saying that."
Avdol's chest ached. The clamor of guilt ridden thoughts drowned out the silly conversation that they were having. None of what they said mattered. Even the talk about their next objective as a gang didn't matter. Only images replaying innocent lives being taken that day demanded his attention, plus tax via his emotions.
As he rose up from the table and plodded sadly out of the room, Léon and Tenmei senselessly argued.
"None of that shit sounds like something I'd say," Léon retorted.
Tenmei grinned. "Okay, well how about this. When you catch them in the act, you can jump out from the shadows, point at them, and go: You STOP, youuuuu…!"
Léon scrunched his face when he noted Avdol leaving the room. "Hey, Avdol, where you going?"
No answer. He just kept dragging his feet along the tunnel.
"Hey, I'll be right back," he told them, and proceeded to chase him down. "Avdol!"
Avdol couldn't bring himself to look back. He heaved up a quiet sob, and kept pushing forward.
"Avdol, hey!" Léon called out, his voice echoing off the rocky walls. Catching up to him, he patted him on the arm. "Hey, man, what's up? You okay?"
Avdol sniffed and forced his tone to sound normal. "Yeah… just… thinking."
"You want to talk about it?"
Bringing himself to answer made the quaking in his chest worse. He didn't know how much longer he could hold it all in. He didn't know if he could keep up the façade of a stolid, reliable figure. Like any Drive user, he would allow his emotions to be there, but continue on with not caving in and letting them consume him. He had to be strong; he had to persevere no matter how immense the pain was.
"I… there's nothing to talk about."
Léon looked at him with empathy. "Avdol… if it's about that grenade earlier, I'm really sorry. It was fucking stupid. I should've —"
"It's not you," he said, his voice cracking.
"Then what is it?"
His breath shuddered and he masked a hand over his face, poorly concealing his quivering frown. Léon came up beside him, wrapping a consoling arm around him.
"Hey, it's alright. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Just know I'm here for ya."
He couldn't tell if it was because Léon's comforting words were making him feel safe, or if he genuinely couldn't board up his feelings any longer. But the pain and misery shook him to his core. The unshakable recollection of the events that transpired just wouldn't stop bombarding him. Avdol had finally reached his breaking point.
"It's all my fault!" he bawled. "If I'd just shot that guy in the leg instead, all those people…! They…!" A tight knot formed in his throat, making it feel as though it were sealing up on him. "He… wouldn't have dropped his gun, and…!"
Léon brought him in for a hug, and allowed him to cry into his shoulder as much as he needed to. "It's not your fault," he reassured, rubbing his back. "None of that was."
"I never should've joined this gang…" he vented, letting out the pain that had been bothering him for far too long. "...I'm a disgrace to my mother, my father, other Drive users… to my grandfather…"
"No, Avdol," Léon reasoned. "Neither your parents, nor your grandfather, would hate you." His embrace tenderly squeezed tighter around him. "Listen. I won't pretend that I have good advice to give you, because I don't. But I want you to listen to what I'm about to tell you, alright? What happened today was not your fault. Whatever pain you're feeling right now, just know that it's okay to feel that way, and I'm not leaving your side no matter what."
Avdol sniffled runny mucus back up his nose. "Léon… I know you don't understand. But…" sniff. "Drive users are supposed to follow the teachings closely, that includes not harming other living things. It feels like… that's all I've done since I took my father's place. All I wanted was to help my grandfather. I never meant to become a monster."
"Well, whatever your teachings say, the Avdol I know is still the furthest thing from being a monster. He's also the most impressive Drive user I know." Léon smiled.
"Just kiss my ass why don't you." They exchanged laughter. "Sorry for crying so much… you must think I'm a big wuss now."
Léon chuckled. "Only a little bit."
Avdol returned the lighthearted gesture with a smile. "Fuck off."
None of them knew where to begin, who to suspect, or who to speak to. They'd each agreed that approaching anyone of the Quiet Riot members, and asking straightforward about it would only get them nowhere. They had to go about this the smart way. But what way was that?
Avdol and Léon compromised on a method that could benefit them in the long run if they played their cards right. They could make small talk with some of the members, bringing up specific details about the sudden change of events, and gauge a response that way. It could work. However, Tenmei had his own ideas…
"Where were you on the day of… uh, today!"
The other Quiet Riot member, wearing mostly purple, arched his brow. "Walkin' around La Lande, why?"
"Oh, really! " Tenmei grilled. "So, you didn't know Jardin d'Alegria was under fire? Or maybe…" He narrowed his eyes and conked their foreheads together, attempting to strike fear in this man's soul. "...that's what you want me to think…"
The gangster sputtered out a quiet laugh and backed away with his hands in front of him. "Look, man, you asked. I was on patrol. What do you want from me?"
Tenmei pointed an accusatory finger. "Don't play games with me, mister!"
Meanwhile, Léon and Avdol were sitting around the TV with some of the other gang members, shooting the shit like it was any other day. Though, when Avdol cautiously brought up Motorhead's victory, the others chimed in giving their own opinions. Both he and Léon listened intently to the conversation, looking for keywords, odd behavior, anything suspicious.
Much to their misfortune, nothing out of the usual. Reading their every move when they spoke, and hearing them theorize as to what's going on, only told them they knew about as much as they did. Very little. Tenmei's luck was about as dismal. The three met up later across the street from a hardware store.
"Any leads?" Avdol asked.
"Nope," Tenmei said. "These guys are tough to crack! I gave 'em everything I had!"
Léon chuffed. "By 'everything you had', do you mean 'getting in their personal space and trying to scare them'?"
"I thought it would work…"
He sighed. "Yeah, we're not getting anywhere like this."
Avdol leaned his back against the chain link fence and crossed his arms. "Alright, so what's plan B, then?"
Tenmei surprised them when he piped up. "Let's tie everybody to a chair, threaten them with torture, and make them tell us what we want to know!"
"You watch too many movies," Léon said, waving a dismissive hand. "You really think we can wrangle that many people? The odds are three to hundreds."
"Oh, right…"
"Besides, your idea of torture is tickling their feet with a feather to make 'em talk. Say I'm wrong if you want, but I don't see how that'll be very effective."
Tenmei pursed his lips and folded his arms disapprovingly. "It works on me…" he mumbled.
His scowling expression waned from his face as he focused his attention to a ball making a bing sound while it dribbled up the court. Behind the fence, Quiet Riot members were killing time with a quick round of basketball.
Rowdy voices escalated in volume as one of their best players tore up the basketball court, blazing a trail all the way to the goal. Tenmei watched in astonishment. The player in question was in his late 30s. He wore baggy, purple shorts down to his knees, a charcoal gray t-shirt, and a plum-colored bandana around his forehead.
The sports shoes he wore were all black with gray soles, which matched the lines on the basketball. Thick bands of silver fit snugly around the index and middle finger of his right hand. On the other, it was his ring finger and pinky.
"Hey, that's…!" Tenmei started to say, pointing towards the basketball goal. Léon and Avdol looked behind them to see what he was talking about.
SLAM
Jubilation mixed with grumbling emanated from feet away, where the star player stood swelling with pride at their victory. He gave an exhilarated hell yeah! , pumping his fist with the ball tucked in the crook of his other arm.
Avdol's smile got wider, as did Léon and Tenmei's. Now, this was a familiar face they hadn't seen in a while. "Hey, Marvin!" Tenmei called out, waving his hand and running out onto the basketball court.
The man beamed at the trio. "Heeeey, Tenmei~! Show me some steps!"
Marvin tossed Tenmei the ball and playfully acted in a way to thwart his advance to the goal. Tenmei nervously drilled the ball forward, just missing Marvin's attempt to claim it as he went to make the shot. It flew through the air, and with great disappointment — and little force behind it — landed on the court and bounced away, diagonal of the basketball goal.
Tenmei's head hung low in defeat, shoulders slumped forward. "Aww, nuts…"
"Yeah-haaa!" Marvin applauded. "Groovin' it! Don't worry, you'll get there." Their palms slapped together as a high-five for his effort. "You guys come to watch the game, or are you on duty?"
"A little bit of both." Léon said.
Avdol's thumb stroked his chin, wondering to himself: should he bring up the real reason they were there, or should he let this one slide?
"Oh! Nice, nice."
"Yeah!" Tenmei added jovially. "We're doing detective stuff!"
Léon elbowed him.
"Owww…"
Marvin laughed. "Detective work, huh? Is there any reason in particular you're doing that, or…?"
I guess I could spare some of the details, Avdol reasoned. He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Angus suspects one of our guys might be tipping off Motorhead, so we're looking into it for him."
Marvin hummed in thought. "I getcha, this is about the territories. We were just talking about that. So, how's that going for you so far?"
Avdol cringed. "Well… not the best."
"Hmm. I'm betting that I can help you boys out." He bounced the ball from one hand to the other. "On one condition, though."
The trio listened attentively.
"Beat me in a match. Three on three. How about it?"
Avdol, Léon, and Tenmei exchanged looks. Judging by the smirk on Léon's face, he was down to accept the challenge. Tenmei looked at Avdol, his decision riding solely on how he'd make his mind up. It was a tempting offer, one he couldn't refuse since Marvin seemed to know just about everyone better than they did. All they'd have to do is win, and he'd share whatever useful knowledge he had.
Five of the gang members sat on the bench, eager for the match to begin as two from Marvin's team stood behind him, ready to throw down. Marvin spun the ball on his pointer finger and grinned. A menacing, violet aura radiating all around him.
"I'll give you a fair warning, though…" he informed. "...we won't be taking it easy on you."
Léon and Tenmei looked at Avdol, awaiting his answer. I guess we could. We've got plenty of time to kill. "Okay. You're on."
Tenmei shot his hand up in the air. "There's just one problem. I'm not very good at playing."
"Not to worry," Marvin said, batting the ball from palm to palm. "Just do your best."
"Quick question," Léon cut in. "Are we counting the fouls, or are we free-styling it?"
"Defenders can block the shots, but technical and offensive fouls still count. Stay out of the other players' spaces, and you're good."
Avdol flashed Léon a cheeky smirk. "Heheh."
"Shut up…"
"Alright," Marvin announced. "Let's do this!"
A gang member rose up from the bench and strolled out onto the court. Marvin tossed him the ball, and the holder took his place as referee, standing aligned with the space between the two teams of three. Léon readied himself as he anticipated the tip-off. Both he and Marvin stared each other down, their eyes claiming the throw before it'd even been cast.
The ball flew up, and without a second thought, they sprang for it.
Marvin's hand made purchase with the ball, and in a split second, dribbled it up the court with Léon and Avdol automatically rushing to defense. Tenmei lightly jogged alongside them, perplexed as to what he was supposed to be doing as his eyes studied the other players' actions. Marvin's other teammates whooped and clamored on the sidelines. Shoes chaffed over the pavement in a frenzied scuffle all the way to the basket. Léon shot all the way to the third arc, prepared to block the shot, and that was when the unexpected happened.
Avdol hoped with all his might they had this one in the bag. That by some chance the ball would fumble from Marvin's grasp and they'd steal it. But as it bing'd against the ground, something questionable — something violet — rippled like water dripping over a stagnant puddle. Marvin was nearing the third arc when his foot entered the designated spot, boosting his jump higher than the average human being could pull off.
Flabbergasted by his jaw dropping stunt, Léon blurted out, "...the fuck?!" He gawked slack-jawed, watching Marvin soar through the air and right into the basket, slamming the ball through the hoop.
Avdol couldn't believe what he just witnessed. He shook his head as a way to stave off the delirium. But he soon accepted that it did happen. Right before his very eyes. Before everyone's.
"That's three to nothing, baby!" Marvin hailed.
Though the rest of the gang were celebratory about him scoring, Léon was irate. Avdol knew the look in his eye all too well. He was about to storm off and start something with him. Before he could take another step, Avdol thwarted his forge ahead with a palm across the chest.
"Come on, man, it's just a game."
"That fucker cheated!"
"Léon…"
"He fucking cheated!" he hollered out, intending for them to hear.
I can't say he's wrong, Avdol considered. I'm beginning to wonder if stand usage is accepted… but then, why would he say fouls count? Not everyone out here is a stand user. Seems a little unfair to me. His neutral face morphed into a scowl.
Léon hurled a condemning finger at Marvin. "Hey, you owe us a free-throw!"
Marvin spun around, nose wrinkled and brow arched. "What're you talking about?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about, you fucking cheater!" He pushed past Avdol's arm, and stormed forward with a menacing glare. In spite of coming nose-to-nose with him, Marvin held his ground, the simper on his face not faltering.
While Tenmei kept as far away from the drama as possible, Avdol huffed over, begrudgingly playing the mediator. He could hear Léon spitting hushed insults in his face upon drawing near the group. "Alright, alright. That's enough." he demanded, stepping between them. Léon's hateful sneer remained as Avdol coaxed him back out on the court.
Avdol's gaze demanded his attention. "What the hell was that?"
Léon didn't answer. His eyes wandered to the stray pebble he was rolling under his boot.
"Look, we saw it, too. I know." He looked back at them. I don't know what's up with these guys, but if that's the way they wanna play… "Let's try this: if he's good enough to use his stand against us, I say we do the same."
"Won't that count as a foul, though?" Tenmei questioned.
"It didn't for him, why should it for us?"
Léon concurred. "Guess that means stands are in, but physical contact is out. Tch. Pretty slimy that he didn't mention that at the start."
Avdol made waving motions with his hands to derail them from heading back into that mess. "Okay, so now we have a plan. Let's put it in motion and see how it goes. Sound good?"
Léon and Tenmei nodded in approval.
The teams of three met up on the court and stood in opposition of each other, just as before. This was it. Time to give Marvin a special dose of his own medicine, to prove that they weren't going to allow him and his teammates to run them over.
Marvin tauntingly dribbled the ball, bouncing it in and out through the gap between his ankles. "You all ready for this?"
Avdol exchanged glances with Léon, who gave him a knowing look. Tenmei sighed and assumed the ready position. "Aww, nuts," he moaned. "How am I going to use my stand if I can't make contact with any of them?"
"Don't worry, Tenmei," Avdol said. "Just breathe and go with the flow." Which is exactly what I plan to do.
As soon as Marvin made a move, the trio sprang into defense mode. Léon sidled alongside Marvin in a hurried motion until he managed to block his advance. Marvin dribbled in place momentarily before making a pass. Another gang member caught it, and made off for the third arc.
Oh, no you don't. Acknowledging his urge to win, Avdol breathed calmly into his nose and ignited his Drive. Red streaks rapidly streamed around the players, his darting figure catching the one holding the ball off-guard. Confused, he tripped and fumbled the ball, watching it bounce away.
Bing, bing, bing
"Hey, what the hell…?!"
Avdol swiped it off the ground and pursued the basket. Marvin and the other teammate closed in on him with burning intent to defend the goal. The gang member aiding Marvin trotted into the third arc in an attempt to goaltend the shot, but Avdol wasn't going easy on him. Leaving a blazing trail of red in his wake, he entered the third arc, made a running leap, and rang the basket.
"Aww fuck yeahhhh!" Léon cried.
Pleased with himself, Avdol picked up the ball and looked back to behold Marvin's puzzled face. "I believe that's two to your three."
The ball was passed to Léon, and the opposing team swarmed him like a pack of wolves, ready to lunge at any given second. One of the gangsters danced in front of him, but Léon kept a keen eye on him, dribbling the ball side-to-side. Seeing no other advantage he could take, or way to pass the ball, Léon decided to try something different.
Keeping his momentum, he continued dribbling with the occasional backpedal until he made a mad dash for the chain link fence behind him. The players surrounded him. Despite the fence serving as an obstacle in his path, Léon persisted to bolt towards it. He ran up the mesh, and catapulted himself off of it.
He tucked his chin towards his chest, embraced the ball, and pulled his knees up to his forehead, backflipping over the other players. Rebel Yell altered them both into a massive, sticky clay sphere midair. Tenmei jumped up and intercepted him, drilling his way back to Avdol. With the other team at their back, Tenmei instinctively flung the sphere from behind the arc with as much force as he could pull.
Avdol clenched his fists with anticipation. "Come on, come on!" he urged under his breath.
Mere feet from scoring, Léon and the ball assumed their natural forms, unfurling from his spiraling cannonball position.
SLAM
Three points. Avdol was too elated to form a sentence. Tenmei ran over and high-fived him, though unlike him, he wasn't having trouble expressing his own jubilation in words.
"Son of a piston gasket! That was awesommme! Marvin, did you see that?! We dominated that round!" Tenmei spun around and shook his butt in a taunting motion. "Uh-huhhh~, Oh yeahhh~ Woop woop, oo-ee oo-ee!"
Léon failed to suppress quiet laughter. "Dude, what…"
Avdol claimed the ball, and the game was back on. Dribbling it, he saw Léon on the other side of the court and went to make a pass. Marvin intercepted it, and started to blaze off, prompting the trio to shift into defense. With every bing the ball made on the court, ripples were left behind him. Blissfully unaware he'd set foot onto one of the violet mines, Tenmei was immediately flung feet up into the air, screaming.
Avdol skidded to a stop, redirecting his gaze to the sky. "What the… Tenmei!" He channeled his Drive, rushing to his rescue in order to catch his fall. Hot red streaks followed his body off the pavement like fading after images, his arms catching him as he descended. Avdol's landing created fissures along the concrete, branching off from the craters under his feet.
Having been cradle-carried back to earth, Tenmei's eyes were broad and his trembling hands were drawn up to his chest. "T-th-thanks, Avdol."
"Don't mention it." He stared down at the various rippling mines before him. I see. So, these things act as a catapult.
Much to their disappointment, Marvin scored again… and again… and again. Each effort to ring the basket more facile than the last. "I believe that's twelve to your five!" he called out as he dribbled up the court.
Avdol's hope was sapped. Léon's present irritation spoke for itself. These mines can only be created by the user if he has the ball. I'm betting if we can get him to dribble the ball for a while, and nab it from the other team before they get the chance to score, we can use these to our advantage and win the game! Avdol stood up from studying the mines and made a T gesture with his hands. "Time out!"
The other team complied, stepping off to the side to chat. Léon and Tenmei sauntered over, wondering what the big deal was.
"Listen," Avdol spoke quietly. "You see these?"
Their eyes followed his finger to the violet ripples. "Yeah?" Léon answered. "What about 'em?"
"Marvin's not the only one that can use them. That means we still have a chance to win."
Tenmei's eyes lit up.
"Hey, yeah!" Léon exclaimed. "That's a good point! So, what's the plan?"
Avdol leaned in real close. "We'll let him keep the ball for a bit, and when he's made enough land mines, take any chance you see to get the ball and make the shot."
Léon sighed heavily, wiping his hands down his face. "God. We better be putting up a damn good defense."
Avdol chuckled. "Don't forget… you've got a Drive user on your team."
It was a solid plan, or at least they thought so. Following through with it to the T was the hard part, however. Shoes chaffed, the stench of sweat permeated the air — Marvin's players put up a good fight, making the score climb high into the 20s. Avdol's team's score collected dust on a stagnant 10 despite utilizing their stands to the fullest. Even then, Marvin's skills as a seasoned basketball player were a tough contender.
It's like he was toying with them, knowing the precise moment to plant the mines so only he and his teammates could use them. Avdol had to hand it to the guy: it was a clever strategy. Which put a damper on their plan. Now what?
I'll admit, his use of the ball's ability is pretty damn smart. Were it me, I'd probably do the same thing. Still… there has to be a way to outmaneuver them. I wonder… He examined the ripple out on the court closely, both teams scuffling amidst the game. From the sidelines, he could hear the hooting and hollering of the other gang members. Léon and Tenmei may not be able to match his speed or elevation without stepping on these things, but I'm willing to guarantee with Drive I can. That settles it then. I know how to turn the tables now.
With determination spilling from his eyes, Avdol delved back into the action, studying Marvin's moves intently. Pass, intercept, shot, dribble, pass, dribble. Over and over again. It became apparent that Léon was growing fatigued, but refused to back out of the game on account of it. He pushed on, perspiring like mad. Tenmei was equally as tired, dragging his feet behind the others and panting like a dog with his tongue hanging out.
Summer heat reflected off of the pavement, scorching their skin like meat in a frying pan. Avdol couldn't blame them for being sick of this, not one bit; but he was too driven to quit. Too enveloped in seeing them through, regardless if they won the game or not.
For what it was worth, he wanted to see them win. He wanted that feeling of triumph to wash over them especially with the loss of their neighborhoods taking a massive blow. Having now realized he had the capability of being the perfect match for Marvin, they could still have that chance.
Marvin's player dribbled the ball down the court, cautiously maneuvering around Léon and making a pass to the other team member. Léon intercepted, his eyes stinging from the sweat pouring down his forehead. His sharp gaze found Avdol, and he knew what he was thinking. The ball flew out of his hands and in his direction.
Perfect.
Avdol calmed his nerves and pictured himself as the Pulse — the constant progression flowing with life that his grandfather always told him about. He was that constancy, he was unstoppable… he was pure Drive. He inhaled and opened his eyes; then a burst of red, searing energy coursed through him.
Winding past them like lightning, Avdol's feet carried him off. The images of motion baffled not only the other players, but the gang members watching the game. Léon and Tenmei stood beside each other, enervated and out of breath, but supportive to the very end. Their cheers for Avdol invigorated him. He couldn't recall the last time he felt so alive. One thought burned in Avdol's mind as his corneas perceived the goal several feet in front of him — go for it.
Rubble flew up from under the toes of his boots. Wind blustered against his face and consumed all other sounds demanding entrance into his ear holes with a deafening whoosh . Like an eagle, his red aura streamed through the air with him.
"Holy shit…!" one of the onlookers marveled. "That's going to be a fucking four pointer!"
Avdol readied the ball for the rim, aiming for the hoop with fiery resolve. I did it… I did it, guys!
SLAM
Léon persevered once more, taking initiative and claiming the ball as soon as it hit the court. Marvin scuttled by, moving left and right. The other players goaltended. He started to dribble the ball away from his pursuer and to another location when Marvin managed to claim the ball mid-dribble. This was where Avdol's attention went next, fervent and scrutinous.
Expectantly, he hoped to spot another violet mine manifestation. Each bing of the ball cultivated his focus a little deeper. Any given moment, Marvin would make one for himself, and that's when Avdol would make his move.
"Léon!" he called out.
He looked over.
"Watch for it!" Please understand what I mean…
It took a second for it to register, but the moment it did… " Ahhh, got it!"
Having a clear idea of what to do next, Léon summoned Rebel Yell. The vermillion ifrit swept over to the middle of the court. In a ten foot radius, it transformed Marvin's intended path into a slippery, plasticious trap. The clay's surface was too sticky, devouring the ball's elasticity as it made purchase. Their opponents slid, colliding right on their ass, as well as Marvin who lost control and tumbled over the court.
Tenmei swooped in and claimed the ball, shouting Avdol's name as he passed it to him.
Marvin lied there, examining the clay beneath him. "Ha! Well played, guys, well played."
One of the gangsters watching the game cupped their hands around their mouth and shouted, "Yo, Marvin! What're you doin', man, get up!"
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you…"
Time to make another four pointer! Avdol thought.
Marvin spotted Avdol drilling to the other end of the court, puzzled.
Just as he had done before, Avdol stopped in front of the fence and followed the same routine. Breathe, focus, act. He was a red bullet blitzing up the court. Like before, he made a running leap, soaring like a fighter jet.
SLAM
Another four pointer!
Scuttling into the third arc, Marvin caught the ball right away and went to make his own shot, this time without the use of his stand. Two points!
"Merde!" Léon complained. He bolted for the ball and dribbled around the other players to get to Avdol.
Tenmei patted a hand to one of the other player's backs for good sportsmanship. "Wow! Keep up the good work. You guys are awesome!"
"Uhh… thanks…?"
He wasn't worried. Not one bit. He sat down criss-cross on the court away from everyone else, leaning his chin into his palm. "Don't mind me, guys," he said, waving up a hand. "I've got this aaaall under control." A kelly green cherry lost its glowing viridity, turning jet black in the shoulder of the man he complimented.
As Léon went to make a pass to Avdol, that same player intercepted it, irking his agitation.
Tenmei was watching, though. "Nonono, not today." Reaching into his backpack, he interrupted the player mid-dribble, causing him to abruptly stop and stare in bewilderment at his empty hands.
"Hey, what the hell?!"
"Hey, Avdol! Go long!" Tenmei threw the ball his way.
Staring at the ball back in his possession, Avdol's laugh started small, then escalated in volume. "Well, alright!"
"Hell yeah!" Léon celebrated, pumping his fist. "Tenmei, you fucking genius!"
Tenmei grinned like a jackass, posing with the back of his hand under his chin as if he were saying: that's meeee.
A fiery red trail blazed to the third arc, and Avdol rang the hoop. Two points, bringing the score to 16 against 24.
"Time out!" Marvin announced, beckoning all the players to the center of the court. "This round will determine the winner of the game. I don't know about you guys, but it's fucking hot out here!"
"Mmm, yeah. It is one of the hottest months of the year," Tenmei said. He made his rounds, patting the opponents on their backs and congratulating them. What he received in response were perplexed expressions. Same as the last guy.
"Good game to you, and you, and you. And you, too, Marvin!" Having removed the cherry from the other player's back, he gave it a good slap to Marvin's shoulder blade. "You're really inspiring to watch!"
"Well, thanks, Tenmei! Alright, guys, let's make this count!"
The teams split and assumed a ready stance for the next round to commence. Marvin's words rang loudly in Avdol's head. Make it count, huh? Haha, oh we will. Just you wait.
Marvin received the tip-off. Just a bit longer and they'd be in the homestretch, Avdol kept telling himself. As long as they stuck to the plan, they would undoubtedly come out on top. That is if the heat didn't get the best of them first.
With the score now even, tension clouded the atmosphere. This was it. The final round.
As the ball bing'd against the ground, a purple ripple momentarily stunlocked Avdol, Léon, and Tenmei. In the midst of moving around the other players, Léon instinctively made a mad dash for it. Simultaneously, he and Marvin shot up into the air at equal level, locking eyes like enemies facing off for the final showdown.
Tenmei's hand frantically rummaged through his backpack, the lack of touching something bumpy and round elevating his anxiety by the minute. "Come on, come on, come on!"
The spectators' jaws dropped. "Damn! Where do these guys pick up these techniques?!" one of them exclaimed.
Another chimed in, "Right?! I want whatever drugs they're on!"
"Tenmei!" Avdol rushed.
"I know! I'm trying, I'm trying!"
Léon fought every urge to quarrel for the ball as his and Marvin's body ascended through the air, but that impulse was practically a madman with a pitchfork, staving off each refrain with a fierce jab. No matter what moves he wanted to make, the fear of them counting as a foul made him second guess his actions. He wished he had thought this through a little better before taking the leap. Marvin flashed him a smug smile, to which annoyed the piss out of him and made those impulses all the more tempting.
"I can't find it!" Tenmei shrieked.
Dammit! Dread spiraled in Avdol's gut, head snapping up to the sky. Do I intervene? Not intervene? What should I do?!
Silence drowned out the world around Léon, who couldn't look calmer as he began to descend back to the ground. His lowered gaze peered up sinisterly at Marvin. Their toughest opponent was prepared to ring the basket when Leon chuffed.
"Game over," he murmured.
Large, three-fingered hands clamped firmly around Marvin's arms, contorting his smug expression into pure shock. His body cells warbled, becoming a goopy, taupe mass.
"...the fuck?!" he shouted, getting a final glimpse of Rebel Yell's visage before it molded him into an elongated clay projectile at breakneck speed. Léon grabbed it, the basket mere feet away.
Léon… Avdol lunged through the air, confident that he'd catch him in time before making a splat against the pavement. Cracks formed under his foot, and he launched himself upward, taking Léon into his arms. They returned to the ground with a loud boom, shattering the concrete like a meteor hitting the moon's surface.
Marvin's players, Tenmei, and all the men on the sidelines stood there speechless. A hush swamped over the court, and when the next spectator spoke up, all eyes wandered over to a transparent pink baggie with fancy gold moon embroidery in his hand.
"Man, we really gotta lay off the drugs…"
"Nah, fuck that!" another gangster responded, reaching for it. "I'll take it if you don't want it!"
He snatched it to one side, then back to the other as both men's hands tried to grab it. "Hey. Hey!"
Caught on the rim of the basket was Marvin's clay form, barely teetering into the ring. Anticipation brimmed from everyone's eyes — hopeful, worrisome.
Tilt
Come on… Avdol coaxed. …just a little more!
The slightest movement spiked their expectations, and then it happened.
SPLAT
"YES!" Léon roared. "Twenty-seven to twenty-six! Hell yeah!"
Victoriously, the trio leapt up into the air, howling with excitement. Rebel Yell's effects negated, and Marvin sat up from the pavement, blinking his eyes and shaking the discomfort throbbing in his head.
"Damn, feels like I've been hit by a truck!" His hand rubbed at his temple.
A welling, immense happiness brought tears to Avdol's eyes. Each arm wrapped around his friends' shoulders. We did it! Together!
Marvin dusted himself off. "Sorry to break up the victory, boys, but that shot doesn't count."
The court fell silent. All three of them looked back at him with a mixture of confusion and contempt.
"What?!" Léon yelled. "Oh, that's bullshit!"
"Not bullshit," Marvin retorted. "That shot was an offensive foul. You could've just taken the ball from me, but instead you turned me into the ball. That counts as invading the player's space." He smirked. "I believe you owe me a free-throw."
Outraged, but doing everything he could to suppress it, Léon began to pace with hands on his hips. "I'm about to fucking hurt this guy…"
"Just calm down," Avdol told him.
Standing within the third arc, holding the ball, Marvin hopped up and rang the basket. All of the other players whooped, save for three. Léon had his arms crossed, heated about the whole thing.
"Great, now the score's even," he muttered.
Being Marvin rang the first free-throw, he now had another chance to ring again to break the tie. Avdol expected he wouldn't miss it either, given what a great player he was. But for some reason, Marvin paused. With the ball in the crook of his arm, and the other hand wiping sweat from his brow, he looked back with careful thought filling his eyes.
"Tell ya what," he said, tossing the ball to Tenmei, who almost fumbled it. "I'll be generous and give you a chance to make a free-throw. And if you ring this one, you win."
"Tenmei, let me do it," Léon urged. "I'll wipe that smug-ass grin off his face."
"No, let me," came Avdol. "I can ensure the ball will make it through the hoop."
"Come onnn, let the little guy have a turn!" Marvin teased.
Tenmei stared down worryingly at the ball in his hands. "I-I don't know. I'm not very good at this."
Léon glared feet away at Marvin. "What's funny is I feel like he knows that. Cette conne…"
Well, this was unexpected. Avdol patted a hand to Tenmei's shoulder in support. "It's okay. Try not to think about it. You can do this!"
Thereafter, Léon did the same. "We won't hold it against you if you don't ring it, so don't worry. Just give 'em hell."
Tenmei nodded, uncertainty painting his face white. "Right…" gulp. "...give 'em hades."
As he strolled out to the center of the third arc, he continually whispered that same phrase over and over to himself to boost what little morale he could. "Give 'em hades, give 'em hades, give 'em hades… I can do this." Seeing that all the others were watching him, however, just amplified the pressure of screwing up.
Avdol looked on, hopeful. You can do it, Tenmei.
"Now let's see," he said, squinting his sights over the ball. "How do I aim this at the rim? What trajectory works better? Or better yet, how much force should I apply? Too much, it'll ricochet off the goal. Too little, the ball won't even make it to the net. Ratchets! This is hard!"
Léon groaned. "Just throw it!"
Tenmei's posture shot erect. "Uh, right!"
Avdol shook his head, knowing there's no chance in hell he was going to ring the shot. With all the pressure building up on him, he couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. The moment he glanced up, he was taken by surprise seeing Tenmei strolling over to Marvin.
What the…?
Like before, Tenmei patted him on the shoulder. "Don't mind me," he chuckled nervously. "Just hoping some of that star player energy will rub off on me."
Marvin didn't say anything. He just watched him walk back out onto the court with an arched brow.
As he approached the goal and looked up at the net, Léon deadpanned. "What? What is he doing…"
Tenmei hopped up in futility as he tried to reach and grab a hold of the rim. And again, and again. Everyone was shooting him baffled stares, some scratching their heads.
"Oh, that is so it!" Tenmei growled, smacking half of his stand to his pocket, then reaching inside it. The more his hand scrambled around for something to use, Avdol had jumbled thoughts. I… I don't understand… what is going through his head right now?
"Oh, that feels like…!" From the pocket of his pants, he brought out a snack jar. He furrowed his brows at it. "No, not that." Then he whipped out something else. A magazine titled Engineer's Digest. "Ugh, no…" For a solid ten seconds, he repeated the process until finally, his eyes lit up. "Oh! There it is!"
A metal fold-out chair slipped out of his pocket like a cartoon and clanged to the ground.
Avdol stared. You have got to be kidding me…
Tenmei set the chair just so-so inches from the basket. Climbing up onto the seat of it, he examined the net. His palm pressed to his pocket and removed the cherry, humming an unfamiliar tune while he stood on the tips of his toes. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around the rim.
Avdol's eyes remained glued on him, his mind coming up with possibilities of what he was trying to do as he spectated. Climbing down from the chair, Tenmei continued to hum and dig around in his backpack. What he pulled out next had the others gobsmacked.
It was the net.
Finishing up the little ditty to his song, Tenmei held the net out and casually dropped the ball through it. Marvin just gawked. Tight pulled-in lips concealed Léon's snorty laugh.
Not one onlooker made a peep. Absolutely done with it all, the gangster with the baggie full of cocaine dangled it over the other gangsters' heads. He dropped it on the bench where they began to fight over it. "Man, you guys can have it. I quit…"
Bottled water spilled over Léon's forehead, cooling and quenching every pore. He brushed a hand over his brow, expelling water droplets about to get in his eyes. Meanwhile, Avdol and Marvin were seated on the bench, the oldest using his shirt to wipe sweat trickling down his temples.
"Goddamn, it's hot out today!"
"You aren't kidding," Avdol agreed.
Marvin turned to look at him, holding out a hand for him to shake. "Hey, good game, though. That was pretty impressive stuff!"
Returning the favor, Avdol smacked their hands together and gave it a good firm shake. "Thanks, same to you. Never seen your stand in action before now. How does it work?"
Marvin bounced his ball at his feet and caught it. "Oh, that? It's actually pretty simple. Anytime I use the ball, it plants ripples that enhance the elasticity of whatever it hits. But the thing is it only works if it's in my possession. If you were to take the ball, it wouldn't work for you."
"That explains a lot!" Tenmei chimed in, enthusiastic. "That's why I shot up real high into the air!"
"Uh-huh! It ain't fancy, but Come On and Slam is useful."
Léon shook his head, flinging beads of water out of his hair. He leaned his elbows over his parted knees and joined the conversation. "Basically," he said. "He's got the 'fuck off' touch."
Tenmei cocked his head, wrinkling his nose. "The what?"
"You know, like, some cop can come up and start shit, and Marvin can get out of trouble by just smacking them." The whistle sound he made with his lips lowered in pitch, matching the flying motion he did with his pointer finger.
Marvin burst into hearty laughter. "Yeah, they don't want to mess with me."
Rather than indulge in their casual exchange, Avdol cut straight to the chase. The real reason they engaged in a basketball game in the first place.
"So, Marvin."
"Yeah?"
"You mentioned earlier that you thought you could help us out. Any ideas?"
He looked off, eyes focused dead on the center of the court. "Well, I may or may not have the answer to your problem, but I do know something that might be able to give you a leg up."
"Which is…?" Léon questioned.
"There's a new guy that just got initiated at the start of the week. And you know me, I talk to everybody. I know everybody. But this dude… I got crazy vibes from him the moment we spoke to each other. I don't know what it is, but he's weird to me. Sometimes, he gets a little jumpy. Like he's got something to hide, you know? But that's not what gets me."
The boys listened closely, their attention undivided.
"What gets me is that I caught him snooping around on Angus's computer. I've tried to talk to him about it, and press him for answers, but it was no use. The guy started saying stupid things and making weird excuses. Then he just bailed out and I haven't seen him since. According to the others, he's been ducking out of doing work for the boss, and he keeps telling them how he has to go and 'meet somebody'. Whatever that means…"
Avdol and Léon exchanged looks. This was exactly the kind of information they were hoping for. The blatant fact that someone had the balls to stick their nose into something as vital as Angus's database was without a doubt a serious matter. Even Léon didn't have the guts to do that.
"He's kinda dumb," Marvin said. "So at first, I didn't think he was up to anything too suspicious. Just fucking around in places he shouldn't be."
"So, what's his name?" Léon asked.
Marvin bounced the ball once, then looked over with solemnity in his eyes. "He goes by Lyle. Billiam Lyle Lawless."