Come, heart dripping with black.
Grasp your only friend once more, feel the cold steel against your hand.
Hold them tight, never let go.
Never, not until the sands of time in your hourglass run clear.
Every move hurts, every step forward burns like boiling tar poured into your soul.
Gaze upon the sky, remember where you came from.
Your entire life, nothing but an eternal struggle.
You fought.
You killed.
You conquered.
You won.
Yet, you lost so, so much.
The drum beating inside your chest shall never know another's warmth.
The hands that take lives shall forever be tainted by crimson.
Your eyes, the silent witnesses to crimes far beyond your trembling sense of morality. Your mouth, the voice of a soul torn in two.
Your ears, deaf to their pleas.
Your nose, stuffed with copper.
Your fingers, eager to wrap around a fool's neck. To pull the last, dying breath from their throat.
War. All you know is war.
So don't pretend to be something you're not.
A puppet, limbs moving with each pluck of your strings. Each command of your master.
Take the wobbly steps forward.
Raise your blade high above your head.
Face the masked. Unmask the faceless.
Spill their blood and bathe in it, swine of war, for you know nothing but just that.
You are a knight. You are a trembling pile of metal.
Your opponent stands tall, brave and unmoving. They let the first move be yours.
You take the plunge. Your legs glide across the battlefield. Your sword moves on its own accord, as it hungers for blood.
You gaze into the eyeslits of the enemy. Their helmet doesn't betray any emotion.
You plunge the blade deep into their steel carapace. Metal clangs against metal.
The enemy dodges. It's graceful. Something you lack. Something you've never been aware of.
You fall forward. Onto your knees.
Lay there, motionless. It's useless to stand. There is no point.
The enemy towers over you. You cannot see the sun behind their back.
With a swift move of their blade, you lay decapitated. Blood flows from your neck-stump.
The knight crouches and stands up. And again. Their armor rattles as they keep crouching and standing up. Your dim eyes cannot comprehend the sight. You just want to reach the heavenly gates above, yet they continue crouching and standing over your corpse. This is purgatory. This is hell. This is where your life has led you. This is what you deserve. This is all that you will ever know, because this is what has been written for you in the Great Book. This is your eternity. This is…
.
"This is unfair." Andy murmured, taking a sip of his third beer and mindlessly mashing random buttons. Texas let her tail flick with a tick of excitement, as her smirk only grew.
"This is fun. This is very fun." Her calm voice established, as her little knight embedded Andy's onto their oversized sword and threw them over their head, pulling an exciting gasp from Sora and ripping a drunken, frustrated sigh from Lemuel's lungs. "You're genuinely terrible. But it's okay, playing with a more experienced player will make you learn a lot."
"Learn? We're not learning, you're just tossing me around and…" He had to stop, as an opportunity presented itself. With a few messy clicks, his dark-knight whooshed past Texas' champion of light and managed to get a light, overhead jab in. She parried the following strike almost immediately and tore the poor bucket-head in half. "... And doing that. What am I supposed to learn here?"
"Don't yap. Focus, watch, improvise." She threw back, her attention entirely focused on the TV. Lemuel blew a raspberry and leaned against Andy's side, already displaying signs of not-so-mild inebriation, despite having only drank three bottles.
With a little frustration to her voice, she managed to throw together a babbly sentence. "Can you guys stop playing one on one's, already…? Andy gets the gist by now, can we just get that tournament started?" She slurred over a few words, burying her soft cheek against the other angel's shoulder. Andy could barely even focus on the game, feeling his heart beating right out of his chest.
"No." Texas cut her down along with Andy's knight, the rich splatters of blood reflecting in her golden irises. "... He has to beat me, first. Then he'll be ready."
"But you've been kicking his ass over and over for the past two hours…" She moaned, slouched over his shoulder.
"It's a tutorial. The best tutorial you can get." The Lupo murmured through gritted teeth, almost grinning at the violent, one sided carnage happening on screen. Sora squealed in excitement, kicking her feet in the air.
"You're so good at this, Texas! No wonder I can't ever beat you…" She started, voice turning a bit dreamy, a bit endearing.
"She's good against someone who's never… HIC!... Played a videogame in their life! This is unfair, Andy's right." Lem piped up in his defense, which warmed him up on the inside. With a flick of his head, the ex-merc sent her a grateful smile, returned by her own, wide, drunken grin. "See, if you gave him a… If you put on Fowl Hunt, he'd kick your ass~!"
"..." Her fingers gripped the controller just a bit tighter as the tips of her ears drooped down towards her hair. "... I don't like Fowl Hunt. There's no mechanical skill involved."
"Oh? Then…" Andy began, stopping to watch as his knight swung and missed, immediately landing himself a fifteen piece aerial combo from Texas. He sighed and took a hefty glug of beer. "... Then let's try that, maybe."
"..." The Lupo glanced over at Sora, who kept her excited eyes bored into her own. To reject would be to accept defeat. To disappoint would be to lose something far greater than any videogame.
Texas gave a small nod.
"Fine. Let's do Fowl Hunt."
.
.
.
.
…
.
.
.
.
Somewhere far away from the horrors of medieval warfare, a serene meadow lied peacefully. Like a soft, fluffy carpet of green spread across a room of soft sounds and lights, its walls the color of the warm, summer sky. The gentle warble of fowl arose from the far distance, as a pair of field-hardened, old Sankta men stumbled out of their half-truck, bearing iron slung over their shoulders. With a move, the rifles left their resting spots. Steel shone in the sun's flimsy glare. Halos brightened. Chirping grew close.
.
They stood unmoving, invisible eyes locked on the incoming threat. One, two, the rifles locked, sliding their chambers shut. The hunters exchanged a knowing nod.
.
From behind the farthest of bushes, a mallard flew into the air, soaring through the open, clear skies like a water strider across a lake. Its bottle-green head reflected the sun's gaze, as the mighty wings tore the air apart, letting the creature roam free.
A gunshot pierced the serene dream. One of the hunters shot the other a smug smirk.
Andy loosened his grasp on the pistol-controller and spun it around his finger, to Texas' grim realization. She could barely even manage to aim before he shot the bird off the screen.
"Beginner's luck." She murmured, taking aim towards the pixelated summer sky. Sora clutched her thumbs in an attempt to transfer some of her luck over to the other Lupo, as Lemuel chanted drunken words of encouragement, already on her fourth bottle.
"WOOO! Nice shot, Andy~! Show 'em what Laterans can do with a gun, hehe~!"
Hearing her slurred babbling, Andy knew he had to perform. His eyes narrowed, entirely locking onto the screen in front.
A small, tiny squeak followed. Another mallard popped their bright beak from behind a bush.
Before Texas could even properly point her controller-gun at the creature, Andy had already managed to blast its head off, to the redhead's loud amusement.
"GET 'EM~!"
And again.
"YEAH~!"
And again.
"WOOOOO~! THAT'S MY ANDY!"
.
After a thorough ass-kicking, Texas was left with a feeble score of thirty seven to one (as his finger slipped once, still not fully used to the controller's light weight), frowning, with not even a tiny hint of her smirk left. Amidst Lem's excited squeals, she dropped the controller onto the bar and turned to grab another bottle of beer for herself.
"... Dumb game, anyway. No skill involved. Pointless time waster." She listed, popping the cap off and taking a graceful sip. "... Video games are a waste."
"They're a waste as long as you're losing, you sulking pile of sadness~!" Lemuel jumped to her side, forcefully pressing herself against the Lupo. "Besides, we got to see… HEY!" She squealed, as Texas gave her a gentle shove, forcing her back onto the stool. "... We got to see a… HIC!... How a Kazdel mercenary shoots, hehe~!"
Upon hearing that, both Sora and Texas immediately perked up, eyes latching onto Andy. He blinked, awkwardly taking another sip.
"You're a merc?" She inquired, seemingly genuinely interested, which was a stark contrast to her usual indifference.
"From KAZDEL?" Sora added, leaning closer towards him.
"From Laterano, originally~!" Lem chirped, finishing off her fourth bottle. With a loud clatter, she slammed it flat against the counter and spun in place. It landed on Andy, the foam-soaked neck aimed straight at his heart. "And it's all "sad war stuff", so don't bother asking!"
"Uh… No, it's alright, if you want to ask, then go ahead." He reassured the rest, albeit slightly uncomfortable by his heart-throb's overprotectiveness, having never even imagined her drunk, let alone seen, ever in his life.
"No, no, no. If you wanna know, then…" She paused, taking a moment to spin the bottle again. It landed on an empty space between Texas and Sora. "... Spin the bottle~! And if it lands on Mr Mercenary, then you'll ask. If it doesn't, then you'll have to ask ME about something~. Or Sora. Or yourself…?" Her words ran off somewhere, as her unheavenly tired head rested against Andy's shoulder. "... Or, you can just ask, I dunno… Is it getting late? I'm a bit woozy…"
Andy averted his gaze from the forest of crimson hair, askingly looking for help in the rest. Texas shrugged, as if to indicate that it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.
"Fine. Bottle it is." She murmured, taking the glistening, beer covered glass. Lemuel's head shot up, excitedly staring at the sight. With a wide, silly grin on her face, she watched as the Lupo spun the bottle around with her finger by the neck, guiding it towards Andy. She giggled like a schoolgirl and kicked her feet under the counter, almost falling off her stool.
"Y-Yeah~! Just like that~! See, war can be… HIC~! War can be fun." She squealed and dived right into his shoulder once more. Andy felt his face getting uncomfortably warm.
The rest exchanged a quick glance. Texas took a small breath and spoke up, voice laced with a hint of cruel curiosity.
"How long were you there? How long ago? How come you're here? Why are you here, in the first place? Why did you start a logistics company? When are you planning on shutting it down? How will you handle long-term unemployment? How…"
"Texaaas…" Lem murmured again, staring up at her with those droopy eyes. "That's now what you're supposed to ask. Ask something fun, like…" She smirked, throwing her hair to the side and lazily glancing over at Andy. "... Body-count~! What's yours, hm~? Just how unLawful did the war get~?"
Andy opened and closed his eyes a few times, letting his sight jump from the drunken angel clinging onto his shoulder to the ever so emotionless Texas, staring blankly at her friend, and Sora, covering her mouth with both hands, all wide-eyed.
"Exu! You can't just…" She squawked, a picture of shock painted over her face.
"Come on, it's just a question! You don't have to… HIC!... To answer, if you don't wanna, An-dee~!" Lemuel warbled back, un-tangling herself from Andy's side and drunkenly lying over the bar. Texas simply raised an eyebrow, eyes locked on the ex-merc's.
Andy, however, crossed his legs, letting a few chin-scratches commence. Body count? He had to admit, it wasn't a fun thing to talk about at all, seeing just how many people he had to get close and personal with. From afar, a lot of times, too…
Let's see… First few were those faceless Sarkaz dogs back in the snowy trenches and empty wastelands… Then, that cunning trickster Gin… Oh, and moving forward, they just started piling up and up… He had to consider whether to lie or not. Just now, the reality of having to own up to being the cause of so many deaths, so much suffering dawned on him, as for the first time, it wasn't him walking through an imaginary graveyard, but counting out each life taken, each candle sniffed out, each soul ripped from its body.
But, then again, death was an ever-present companion to every living being on Terra. It wasn't as if some had simply never grasped the concept, so his answer might not come off as THAT shocking, after all…
"Body count… Body count… Somewhere… Somewhere in the four hundreds…? Four-fifty? Maybe more?"
Everyone went silent. Lemuel lost her drunken grin almost immediately, staring wide eyed at her friend. Sora's eyes almost spilled from their sockets as her shock grew tenfold. Texas blinked a few times, her tail standing up straight.
"Bullshit." She summed up.
"No, really, I, uh… There was a time where the entire country was hunting me down, so…"
"... What does that have to do with counting bodies?"
Andy tilted his head.
"What? Everything? They were all piling up, so there was a lot of bloodshed and…"
Sora and Texas looked at each other, their eyes slowly turning back to normal. The idol-girl peeped up, her voice slightly quieter.
"Andy, do you, um… Are you sure you know what a body-count is?"
His eyes ran around the three. Were they playing a prank?
"Yeah? Like, a kill count, no? Number of people I've killed?..."
Another exchanged glance. Lemuel suddenly let out a snort, before erupting into a fit of drunken giggling.
"Th-... That's not a body-count, silly~! That's… Oh, that's too good, oh, Law… Oh…" She spewed in between giggles, tapping her fist against the hardwood counter. "Oh, you're such an airhead! Y-..." She stopped, as a wave of sudden realization washed over her drunken brain. "... You've killed half a thousand people…?"
They were all looking at him, staring right into his very core. Their eyes excavated a deep trench into the darkest depths of his soul, dragging out the most uncomfortable fabrics of his mind, the words that he'd rather leave unspoken, the truths to be buried and never bothered by the clean, pristine daylight.
"I… I, uhm…" He managed to mumble out, before a loud banging at the door interrupted his little attempt. The Lupos' fluffy ears and the angels' heads quickly flicked towards the violent sound, waking them from the momentary shock. Texas glanced at her wrist.
"Nine. Sora, hop on stage." She purred, brushing away any past mild signs of distress, as Sora nodded and quickly ran off. "Exu, you…"
With one glance at Lemuel's red, shit-faced mug, anyone could figure she wasn't cut out for work at the moment. Andy managed to catch her before she could flip over the counter in a messy attempt at saluting the Lupo.
"R-Ready to… To serve~!" Her words were all kinds of slurred. "Thank you, Andy~." She added, as the angel held her up.
"... I'll put you on bartending duty tomorrow. Get some rest." Texas vocalized her frustrations with a sigh, turning towards the counter herself. The banging at the door only grew louder.
Andy helped his angelic friend back up on the stool and gently pet her head, as she almost immediately wrapped her arms together over the counter and buried her face in the little pit in between. His hand lingered over the soft, fluffy sea of crimson for a few moments more than necessary, as Texas hid all signs of their previous activities inside the dusty console-box. She leaned over the counter, glaring at the ex-merc.
"... So?"
"So?" He muttered, confused.
"There's a crowd waiting outside. If you're gonna leave, I suggest you do it now." Her voice oozed with absolute neutrality underlined with a marker of annoyance.
The angel glanced over at the door. Behind the floor to ceiling windows, the world outside had already grown dim. The sun had long fallen behind the horizon, as its daily march had come to an end. The establishment's many flashy lights came alive, alluringly wafting around the lively street-dwellers, gathering their gazes and leading them onward. A small crowd had gathered already, with their faces impatiently glued to the bar's glass walls, scanning the insides. Andy locked eyes with a group of Feline youth, as they pointed the bar-crew amongst one another. He turned back towards the Lupo, as her glove-clad hands dug into a few glasses at once, cleaning them thoroughly.
"I could probably help." He dished up, watching the kaleidoscope of bottles all lined up on the walls behind her.
"Help? We're running a bar, not a shooting gallery."
"..." They stared at each other in silence for a moment or two. A few more loud bangs at the door forced Texas to sigh.
"... Fine, but just because I don't want to get overrun. Hop over."
And with that, Andy found himself standing behind the bar, the taps, expensive bottles, armies of empty glasses and fancy drink-holders all laid out before him. He reached out, wanting to examine a foreign, pricey-looking Iberian Tequila. Just as his fingers grazed against the black glass, Texas slapped his hand away, throwing him a stern glare.
"No touchy. That's worth more money than your company's ever made in total." She murmured, checking all taps in her vicinity. "Break it, you're done."
"I'm not gonna break it…" He let out a snort and grabbed the bottle anyway. "... I know how to handle alcohol, no worries."
Texas watched as he lifted it up from beneath the counter and examined closely. Smelled like any other tequila, weighed as much as any other tequila, tasted…
"What the hell are you doing?" She reached out and snatched the bottle away, before he could take a glug. "You got a death wish?"
"I was just kidding, Law…"
"Terrible joke. One shot costs twenty thousand LMD. For you, a drop costs double that." Frowning, she put the bottle back in its place. "Now, focus. Time for service."
Andy watched as her fingers sought out a tiny button located underneath the counter. With a tiny click, the front door swung wide open, bringing about some wafts of fresh air as well as the overbearing ocean of a crowd, washing off onto the shore of The Ends Of The Earth. Their lively chatter quickly filled the empty space as they split into groups and took over all the many sections of the bar. Andy gulped a little, seeing a massive crowd approaching the bar, talking amongst themselves and hungrily eyeing the bottles behind his back. Texas shifted, straightening her back and plopping yet another cigarette-stick into her mouth.
"What will it be?"
Those were the words he'd be cheerfully uttering for the next few hours.
Rum, gin, vodka, whiskey, sake, wine, beer, brandy, cognac, bourbon, vermouth,
Handling the bottles almost made him feel a bit nostalgic, staring at the labels "Gin" and "Bourbon". Too bad they didn't serve Shine, poor guy.
Pour, serve, fill, take a sip here and there.
Like clockwork, it all operated smoothly. No breaks, no nothing to occupy their minds other than the cheerful, lively customers in front, each of them less sober than the last.
His hands got used to the steady rhythm at which they grasped the many different bottles stashed around their little alcoholic island, pouring them evenly and distributing, eventually asking Texas for help with some of their own homebrew drinks and specialties. She'd assist him straight away, pushing aside any rough feelings of competition or rivalry, as they now worked united under one common goal - getting the whole place drunk.
Andy kept checking up on his little red-head from time to time, who snoozed peacefully by his spot, occasionally murmuring something barely audible to him, her sleepy voice sending his heart soaring.
Minute after minute, hour after hour, the establishment filled to the brim. Down, came the lights, as the empty stage lit with a plethora of sighs and gasps of awe. Out, from behind the sea of golden curtains came a presence long awaited, clad in white and black, a soft veil of gold dragging behind. Sora, free of the dust-armor, all masterfully covered in fancy clothes and make-up, stepped out on stage, as the entire bar ceased its chatter at once.
The ceiling lamps dimmed.
The automated stage-lights flicked and spun.
A gentle buzz of static flew from the many speakers sprinkled around.
And she grasped her microphone, eyes closed, a determined smirk tugging at the cherry-red lips.
"Good evening Lungmen~! I'm so glad to see so many of you here tonight! I'm Sora, Monster Siren Records' up and coming star, here to shine brighter than any of the stars riddling the night sky~! To bring peace through my words and to inspire…"
As she went on and on, Andy nudged Texas a little, gathering one of her ear's attention.
"... She's like your team mascot, or…?"
She shook her head. Seeing how their idol-girl had all the patrons' attention glued to her, she used the moment to take a little break from the never-ending stream of alcohol-hungry customers .
"Not a mascot. Part of the team, sometimes runs deliveries. Mostly just chirps and tweets, but I don't mind. I like it." She took an empty glass and started wiping it clean, her hands moving like a precise machine. "We're obligated to promote her at any given opportunity, so she sings her little songs sometimes. It's nice."
Andy leaned his elbows against the bar, watching the tiny idol spinning around on stage, spewing sugary sweet words into the microphone. It was all in Yanese or some local Lungmenite jargon, but he didn't need to grasp the lyrics at all. What he needed was for the honeyed words to soothe his brain, like a soft massage to the wrinkled surface…
He took a sip of someone's drink, dreamily gazing at the stage. Some strong stuff, lucky pull. They won't mind.
The lights, the stuffy atmosphere, the hundreds of heads, all bobbing and turning in unison, watching the idol and dancing along.
The music, the weariness seeping out of each hole in his head, dissipating into thin nothingness. As if her singing itself cured years of cold nights, of sleeping on the hard, uneven ground. Years of longing, of dreaming for something, someone. That someone, resting right over to his side, sleeping so peacefully and serenely…
He took another sip. The warm substance quickly spread through his entire body, turning the attic a little blurry. Not that it mattered, anyway. It was just him, at that moment. Nothing else had ever existed. This bar, this island atop the mountain of grooving bodies was all that the world has ever known, all that shall survive to witness the sun rising the following morning.
He took another sip. Recklessness, rashness and bravery all shot into his heart like a large dosage of adrenaline from a modified epi pen. He felt right at home, in this loud, tiny corner of the world, where nothing had ever mattered in the grand scheme of things.
And that's alright. He wasn't there to change Terra. He was there to spite his creators by tripping over every log thrown underneath his feet and getting right back up afterwards. He was there to finish this damn drink.
One last sip.
Filled with dumb, inconsiderate courage, his brain wanted just one thing.
He needed to find Lemuel.
Why? He did not know.
All he knew was that he wanted to see her. Right at this very moment.
His heavy eyes, half-clad in droopy lids turned from the blurry show on stage, the lights and sounds breezing past, his weary ears unwilling to let them bother him. Texas tilted her head a little as she saw him draggling along the bar, searching for a sea of crimson saffron to bury his face in.
At the opposite end, there it was. A bright glow sticking out from a mass of pure fuzz, sitting barely conscious against the bar, the sight that made his very soul flutter. All smiles, he dragged himself over, noticing a few figures gathered around her.
Four shadows. Large, tall, dark, grim. His eyes focused on their faces, but he could see nothing. Their throats, producing croaks of cruel laughter, their eyes sliding along the red-headed angel's shape, their hands haphazardly pushing steel canteens against her face and grabbing at her fuzzy sweater.
Andy blinked. The leather resting atop their towering figures seemed strangely familiar - with spikes of steel protruding from the shoulders, feral writings on their backs. He took a few wobbly steps forward, approaching the group.
"... Hm? Wanna ditch this place? We've got bikes, we can ride out to Section Eighteen, have a drink or two…"
"I had… Enough drinks already, thank youuu~..."
"Oh, not nearly enough, trust me."
Salvos of grim chortling.
"I'm here with my friends~... I don't wanna leave 'em~..."
"We can be your new friends, how's that sound? Leave whoever those losers are and…"
"They're not losers… They're… They're the coolest people alive~..."
"But we're even cooler, angel-girl. C'mooon, how many more drinks do I gotta pour down your throat to pull you out on a ride, hm? Keep this up, I might just nab you right off that stool, you little…"
"..."
The leather-clad creatures stopped chatting at the sight of some bartender staring right at them, completely blank. His eyes opened and closed, first the left, then the right, like a chameleon. They exchanged a few glances amongst themselves as the drunk red-head smiled and nuzzled her cheek against her arms, feeling a familiar presence in front.
"... Fuck are you looking at?" One of them asked, genuinely confused. Andy opened his mouth to answer, just for the Victorian alphabet to escape him for a moment or two. Damn alcohol.
"Can you fuck off? We're trying to do something here." Another piped up, leaning against the bar right next to Lemuel. She let out a soft murmur of discontent and slid away from him a bit, which made him shoot her a glare.
Andy found his tongue twisted somewhere in the abyss of his stomach and forcefully dragged it back to his throat. With a little point towards the girl, he asked.
"... Are you giving her drinks?"
Their brows furrowed. "Yeah? What's it to you?"
Andy glanced down at his hands. Compared to the loud creature's they were like tiny toothpicks in the face of a three hundred year old oak tree. A very meaty, veiny oak tree.
"... No home-brought drinks, house rules." He mumbled, swaying from side to side at the alcohol's mercy. A lot of dumb thoughts were hatching inside his brain.
"Okay? We don't give a shit. I'm gonna ask again and expect you to listen, can you fuck off?" The biggest one scowled at him, placing a hand atop Lem's tiny shoulder. Push down a bit too hard, he'd crush her whole.
Andy gave a small nod.
"Okay. Have a nice night."
"... Fucking idiot."
The large pile of meat cackled like a coyote and turned away from him, leaning against the bar. Andy let the little crane-arms in his head pick out the best approach for his situation and sighed.
.
Suicide.
.
His gaze sauntered to the side. A large, black bottle laid underneath the counter.
His fingers grasped the expensive bottle of Iberian Tequila. His teeth plucked the cap off.
His throat pushed the crystal clear substance down his gullet, washing all uneasiness and hesitation away. One for courage, one for the road.
He clutched the bottle by the neck.
Climbed atop the bar.
And with one last look at Lemuel's barely conscious figure, he slammed the glass as hard as he could against the leather-covered giant.
"W-... The fuck…?!"
The creature barely stumbled forward, utterly shocked and befuddled. It couldn't even turn towards the source of the splitting pain, as Andy jumped down from the bar. Clinging onto the thing's tough, meaty face and flailing his fists around, he sent it to the floor, climbing on top and continuing his feral assault.
Punch, after punch, after punch.
The creature flinched in pain, as they exchanged messy punches. Andy felt the bones in his fingers nearly crushing against the thing's chiseled jaw, as it hurt him more than it did his opponent.
The man's leather-clad comrades simply stood and watched the ordeal in silent shock for a few moments, clearly not used to being opposed. It seemed as if it was an entirely new situation to them. This small, tiny angel atop their mountain of a drinking buddy, desperately battering away at his face… It was kinda funny.
So they chuckled. They chuckled and chuckled… And they kept chuckling as they dragged the poor boy off their friend, then through the bar, through the crowds of people, still completely lost in Sora's performance, through the dark back hallway and finally out into some shady back alley right behind the building.
They threw him against the wall with a loud thud. Andy hit his head on the concrete.
"F-... Fuuuuuh…"
All smiles was the four-man group, as they stood above him, staring down at the pile of skin and bones curled up against the bricked surface.
"Fuuuuck, weasel got me good." The biggest one muttered out in between chorts of laughter. His bald head and ram-like horns were all covered in blood, most likely Andy's. "Sneaky bastard. Fucking sissy." With a little wind up, he sent his heavy, leather shoe plummeting into the boy's stomach. He immediately grasped his knees and hugged them tight to his chest, trying to make himself seem as small as possible and protect the soft innards of his belly.
"Snake. Pussy. Coward. Spineless piece of shit."
After each insult came a kick, aimed wherever. His legs, his head, his halo, even. With each connection of the leather against his own soft, feeble skin, the radiance on his back and above his head dimmed a little, as the Law itself turned away to not be a witness to the poor boy's desecration.
Andy wheezed as the last kick squeezed all air from his lungs. He took a deep, rugged breath and coughed out a tiny pool of blood, to the rest's amusement.
"Lookat 'im. Look. Not so fun now, drink-pourer, huh? And for what? For bringing our own drinks? What are you, slow?" The assaulter yelled, gathering salvos of grim laughter from the rest.
"... Y-Yeah. House r-rules." Andy whispered against the concrete, slowly slithering away from the guffaws. A heavy presence pressed against his ankle, nearly crushing the bone. He stopped at once, twisting to his back.
He could barely see anything. The pain, the blood, the alcohol - it all turned his sight into one unintelligible smokescreen of contours and colors, surrounded by an overbearing darkness and flimsy lights far, far away. He breathed a long sigh of relief, knowing he won't at least die in Kazdel.
"House rules, my ass. Eat shit." He ate another kick to the face.
"Eat shit, wage-slave. Learn some respect." And another.
"Respect! You know who we are?" The others piped up, adding to the chorus of misery.
"Fuckin' Catastrophe Riders, pussy!" One more slammed against his ribs.
Catastrophe Riders? That sounded a bit familiar.
Andy flipped himself to the side, spitting out blood and crushed teeth. The rest took a step back to better see this pathetic carcass of a failure.
"Had enough? Had enough? Beg." One chortled, pushing him with the sole of his shoe to his back.
"Beg, bartender. Beg, c'mon! I know you got it in you."
Andy took a deep, desperate breath, feeling his lungs twisting and shrinking. The night sky glimmered far above.
"... I'm sorry…"
"Yeah, you're sorry for what? More precisely, sissy."
A beat.
"I'm s-sorry, Lemmy…"
The four exchanged glances.
"What?"
"What? Who's "Lemmy?"
"Fucking moron."
The biggest one took a small wind up, preparing to send one last killing blow into the angel's stomach. Before he could raise his kicking foot off the ground, the bar's back door swung wide open, crashing against the wall.
"...?"
Andy closed his eyes. He could see nothing.
.
A new pair of footsteps joined in, approaching the men.
"... The hell do you want?"
"I'm here for a colleague. You've had enough fun." A familiar, female voice spoke up. "Emperor spoke with your leader about this, already."
"That flightless piece of trash? Fuck him, that's all I'll say."
A series of group chortles followed.
"..."
"What? Cat got your tongue, wolf-girl? Fuck off or you'll end up on the slab like your sissy buddy."
"You're breaking the agreement."
"FUCK the agreement, alright? FUCK your agreements! If I wanna get a drink and a slag from your bar, I'll get a drink and a slag from your bar! Simple as that! If angel-boy, here, wants a fight, he gets a fight! Now fuck off, back inside. Now."
"..."
A few rapid, clicking sounds followed, silencing the croaking laughter.
"... Put that thing away, woman."
"Mmm. No." She answered, as her steps echoed down the alley, growing close.
"Put it away. I'm serious, put it a-... AH, FUCK!"
The steps quickly turned feral, joined by a cacophony of thuds and swishes, as a sharp surface cut through the night air, slicing the silence to bits. A few rapid, yellow and orange shapes danced in front of Andy's closed eyelids, as the yells, tearing fabric and thuds slowly grew quiet. He opened his eyes.
"... Weaklings."
Above him, stood Texas.
With a cigarette-shaped treat in her mouth, her breathing a little unsteady, she held onto a long, yellow blade, towering over the four thugs, now laid out on the concrete like a bunch of potato sacks. Her golden gaze glanced down towards the angel. Her ears twitched.
"... You broke a one and a half million LMD bottle of tequila." She stated, simply. With a few soft clicks, the blade retracted into its handle, which she slid into the pocket of her coat.
Andy blinked a few times, feeling his senses slowly coming back. A trickle of blood ran down his face.
"I'm… Sorry?"
"Don't apologize to me, it wasn't mine."
Her hand came forth, fingers outstretched. Andy hesitantly grasped the soft surface of her skin and held on tight. She pulled him to his feet and gave a little pat down, taking a step back to fully take in the pitiful sight.
"... You look terrible." Another simple statement.
"Thanks." Andy gave a small nod, forcing a soft, little smile.
"It wasn't a compliment." She brushed some blood off his face and tilted her head. One of her fluffy ears wiggled a bit in the cold, night air. "You're very reckless."
"Sorry."
"And absent-minded. That was a very dumb thing you did."
"Sorry."
"And awful at fighting. I saw it go down."
"Sorry."
"But you're surprisingly resilient." She continued, chewing the final few pieces of her cigarette. "And you did it for Exusiai. I thought you'd think less of her."
Andy gave a tiny nod, letting a few drops of blood seep into his torn, messy sweater.
"She gets drunk easily. Air-headed, too, whenever it happens. Always does some dumb things, gets into a scrap." Her voice, a soft murmur in the night. "Maybe you're not so bad. Pocky?" She added, holding out a pack of chocolate-covered treats in front of her. Andy turned his eyes from her towards the candy.
"... Really?"
"Mhm."
He took one and nibbled a little at the sweet, dark mass layered over it. It had a nice crunch to it.
"... Thank you." He lowered his voice and muttered, leaning his back against the wall. It's cold, hard surface cooled him down a little.
Texas did the same, pressing her back to the wall next to him.
"Don't mention it."
"Really, thank you. They would've k-..."
"Don't mention it." She murmured, cutting him off. "You helped me run the bar, we're even."
"..." His eyes turned towards the wide, empty plains of the dark abyss stretching above. The stars were barely visible, whereas back in Kazdel, they were always blaring on full display, always sending little glimmers and shimmers into the tired mercs' eyes. "It's a bit unfair. I helped you pour drinks for a few hours, you helped me keep my skull intact."
Texas let out a tiny sigh.
"You're very difficult. Accept the gesture, don't fight it."
"I'm not trying to fight it, I'm just-..."
"If you want to "repay" me, walk Exu back home." She purled softly, eyes locked on the dark sky above. "She's waiting out front. Barely keeping herself up straight."
Andy nodded. It felt like her granting him yet another favor, not a chore.
"Sure."
"But don't try anything." Her voice turned stern. "... No funny business. Leave her on her doorstep and that's it. Understood?"
He wiped some blood from underneath his nose, staining his sleeve crimson all over. With a nod, he confirmed, his thoughts already gleefully escaping towards his upcoming late-night walk.
"I won't. Promise."
"Good."
She shot him one last look. Their eyes met and Andy could see a certain softness hiding in the very corners of her golden beacons of light, the kind of softness you feel deep within your heart when looking at a small, fluffy animal in pain. He finished his chocolate-cigarette as she walked back towards the door, stopping for a moment before entering.
"... And watch yourselves. You, especially. Watch her."
.
His lips twisted into a pained smile.
.
"I will. Colleague's promise."
.
The door shut behind her, leaving the angel completely alone in the dark alley. Something churned deep inside his soul, something twisted.
.
He felt warm. Very warm. Not because of his bruises, not because of the blood running down his face.
.
He, himself, did not know why.
.
It felt nice, that's all the reasoning and explanation he needed. Why bother.
.
His soft footsteps echoed out in the alleyway as he gathered his scattered thoughts and headed out, towards the main street.