~No rest for the Wicked~
Roll: Madao (Gintama)
Benefits: It's Gintama, of course it's a joke roll.
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Mid February
TAYLOR'S POV
Run.
Don't stop.
If you stop, you're dead.
I keep on reciting that mantra in my head, forcing my body to ignore the burning ache through my entire being after running for how long.
But she can't stop. If she does, God help her but I know he's not watching.
Why is she even here? Why did she think of going on a morning jog at the boardwalk only to end up in a marathon against a bunch of druggies thinking she's a good appetizer for their drugs!
I might be flattered if that simple fact didn't come from the Merchants druggies.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" I cursed myself, running across a flight of stairs in order to go to the streets. I looked behind, hoping to see the pursuing druggies stumble at the stairs. But somehow by dumb luck or pure bullshit, their drugged up brains still managed to rush quickly up the stairs before chasing after her. How did they not stumble and crack their heads is a miracle with how high they are right now.
"Come back, pretty lady!"
"We want Luv!"
"Pretty!"
Ugh…
I don't know if I should be flattered or disappointed that I got compliments from a bunch of very high druggies currently chasing me like a bunch of lunatics. Still, stopping is not an option.
God knows what will happen to me.
At this point, I really hated my powers. What's the point of having Bug control if I can't even use it in public. Granted, insects are weak but I can literally make a biblical plague (I think?). Heck, I can beat these bastards anytime.
But not this time.
Too public, too many cameras and too many people who are obviously ignoring the girl running away from 4 Drugged Up Merchants. As much I want to use my powers, my identity is sacred. I don't want to be the new Fleur or worst, Squealer.
But still, I can't help but feel disappointed at how rotten Brockton Bay became to ignore someone's plight.
Suddenly, I missed a step and stumbled to the ground. Fortunately, I got my arms to cushion the fall. It hurts but I'm uninjured save for some scratches on my arm. Unfortunately, this meant my pursuers finally got me.
'Screw this!' Fuck it! I'm not letting myself be helpless again lke before!
But before I could summon a plague on my drugged up pursuers, I stopped as I felt the air turn frosty as the morning chill intensified.
Looking behind me, I gasped at the state my pursuers have become.
Frozen solid in ice like an ice sculpture.
"Wow, these guys are really desperate for a good fix." I looked above to see one of the new Wards looking down on me.
Fenrir.
PRT's black sheep and problem child.
Who is currently sitting on a building's 2nd floor rooftop, nonchalantly swinging his feet like a child.
"Sup." He waved at me.
I reluctantly waved back, legitimately scared.
After his debut, Fenrir or Castilian Guerrero took Brockton Bay by storm by going through daily patrols to nightly raids on any gang base he finds, particularly drug dens.
The Merchant's hated his guts.
In less than two weeks, Fenrir caught and busted so many criminals at this point, his records caught up to the Senior Wards.
But that's not what made Fenrir a scary cape. It's his brutality. I saw the videos, the news and more. Fenrir has no qualms with criminals. Broken bones are prevalent in his victims, they are the lucky ones. The unlucky ones are those who he used his Trump powers on.
His powers are by far the most powerful and versatile among the PRT roster. Everyone at this point is calling him Baby Eidolon or Eidolon lite.
Case in point, these Merchants would probably have hypothermia after this.
"...Thanks." I shouted, albeit nervously.
"No problem." He said before leaving. I watched as he jumped away, using the buildings as his own parkour jungle gym.
Huh? At least he didn't break them this time.
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CAS' POV
'Merchant's are getting desperate.'
Jumping high, I proceeded to wall run a nearby building. My foot stepped into the glass as I ran but it didn't break, courtesy of Ki technique called Tree climbing (idk why?) after practicing it many times this month.
My daily patrols were a good decision. With this, I can practice my techniques and abilities on the field instead of just practicing with my Shadow.
Launching myself at the edge of the building, I thought back to Merchants.
Since my debut, I've been doing nothing but track down every single goddamn drug den or base each of the three major gangs had in Brockton Bay.
And boy, good lord, I found a lot.
ABB bases are far and between. Their bases are mostly brothels as fronts and cannot be touched by simply storming in gun's blazing as much I wanted to.
E88 bases are pretty organized for a bunch of Nazis. From Guns and drugs, the Nazis got the best stuff. So much so, that police had to be pulled in such raids.
The Wards helped too but only with Merchant raids. Hess really didn't like it but Director Piggot is babying them. To be honest, Piggot got a good sense of PR in using the Wards to combat drugs by throwing us at the Merchants. Nonetheless, is having the time of her life.
Raids on ABB or E88 bases meanwhile are mostly conducted with the Protectorate, leaving us to pick up the small stuff.
Well, Skidmark didn't like it but the man himself was a no show. Probably hunkering down and building (Squealer mostly) a plan to payback.
'I dare a druggie would. I'm itching for a goddamn good fight.'
That's something I noticed. I'm slowly becoming a battle maniac due to my progressive training in Ansatsuken with my Shadow. As much as a good punching bag Hess was, I really don't have anyone to spar with. Miss Militia is not meant for close combat and ArmsMaster is still sore after I clowned him.
Mofo is sulking like a child.
Hmmm, this day better be good.
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It got worse.
"All I'm saying is that your costume is dirt cheap and unflattering, so why in God's name did you burn your PRT issued costume!"
How did I get roped into a shopping outing with Vicky?
Help me up, Amy.
Don't give me the middle finger bitch!
Dean, control your goddamn girlfriend!!!
Suddenly a huge crash echoed across the mall.
"Good morning, Citizens of Brockton Bay! We of the Foxhound will acquire benevolent donations for our cause!" A familiar voice called out in the PA.
Leet.
Hello, misplaced aggression.
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End chapter.