Description: Damn tracks down one of Metro City's attacking gang leaders and interrogates him in Duke's name. What he gets would be extremely disconcerting... to everyone but Damnd apparently.
It's dull, cloudy, day and the sun is hidden behind a vast expanse of darkened clouds saturated with rain water. The occasional rumbling and flash of lightning overhead indicates that it just might rain today. Ordinarily, there'd have been advanced warnings of incoming storms... but over the past couple of days the only thing being aired on TV - for those who even have power - are constant streams of broadcasts about the chaos in Metro City.
Here in the slums, the place hit the very least by the chaos, it is unusually quiet. Most of the scum who haunt this place have either fled or joined in the efforts to free Metro City because of the threat to their influence. This would, however, be the perfect place to hide a leader in the attack efforts right now. Word on the street is one might, in fact, be hiding here too.
Kicking back in an old wooden chair, polished dress shoes propped up on the edge of an empty burn barrel, a large man wearing dress attire is surrounded by a totally mismatched gaggle of rougneck thugs. He's got a lit cigarette in his mouth and he's leaning leisurely back against the brick wall of an empty trash lot. Grinning widely, the man in ebony suit pants, white dress shirt, and loosened crimson tie with with well-groomed jet black hair seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly. He's quite out of place too... "Ahaha... just last week I thought forr certain my 'business' was ruined. Man sometimes lucky breaks come out of nowhere..."
The gate to the trash lot is.... presently shut up tight. One couldn't just walk in here without notice... but there's nothing saying entrance cannot still be found.
Damnd struts down the street through the chaos, along with Jake, Dug, and Simons. The quartet fill the road as they swagger along, two of them carrying knives, one with a baseball bat with nails sticking out of it, and Damnd with a pair of large bolt cutters. This is their city - these imports, they couldn't be allowed to destroy his city. His streets. His home. Damnd wouldn't let it happen. He and his three hooligan comrades walk up to the gate, Damnd beginning to chop through chain and padlock with his bolt cotters, his friends silent as they psyche themselves up for this. Hopefully, Haggar doesn't show up, or any other vigilantes. The last thing they need is for this guy to get arrested. No, Damnd is going to capture him, and have some fun with the stupid bastard, for showing Mad Gear up in its Vatican City.
As Damnd and his boys show up at the gate, and Damnd begins to dismantle it from the outside, the roughnecks surrounding the classy-looking man turned toward the gate. Many of them leer, and some of them begin shouting and hollering in an excited manner. The thug nearest the sharp-dressed man, a tall and meaty guy with firey red man and blue eyes, casts his gaze downward at the man seated next to him, "...Looks like trouble, boss. You want us to kick their asses?"
The sharp-dressed man leans forward slowly, placing well-polished shoes on filthy ground. "Nah..." He says, cigarette hanging lazily from his lips, "...Let 'em get in first. Probably those Mad Gear washups, looking to try and make something of us moving in on their territory. Let 'em come and talk some trash first... I like it when they do that..."
Damnd finishes stripping the gate of its obstacles, dropping the bolt cutters and kicking the gate open. He stalks into the trash lot, the jacked up Jamaican scowling as Dug, Jake, and Simons follow him. The four of them line up, Damnd with his hands on his hips and the other three brandishing their weapons. "I hear dere's a bunch of rude boy wannabes here dat t'ink dey run Metro City. Well I got a message for /you/," Damnd says, pointing. "De Duke, Damnd, and all de other hoods dat run dis city got somethin' else to tell you! You got two options. You can tell me what I and I want to know, or you can get yo' ass kicked and /den/ tell me what de biddiness is." His three thugs tense up, watching for the well-dressed man and his gang's reaction.
When the gate falls in, crashing to the ground loudly, the hollering quietens down some. Apparently they were about as intimidated by Damnd and his boys as Damnd's boys were of them. ... The well-dressed man, however, does not even bother to look in their direction... simply removing the cigarette from his mouth with hs right hand and exhaling a puff of smoke. Right in one of his own men's faces. He then turns his sharp, baby blue eyed, stare toward Damnd... eyes narrowed considerably. "You make a lot of racket, drug head..." ... the man stands up slowly, addressing Damnd, and walking leisurely out fdrom his 'protection' without a care. Either he's bold... or he thinks he could take them himself. "I'm not going to tell you a thing." He states, matter-of-factly, and removes the cigarette from his mouth... exhaling into the open air again. "You won't get anything but a beating here... so why don't you just leave?" Having said that he does grin a little bit afterward, as an idea strikes him... "If you're not too chickenshit however... perhaps you'd like to fight me for your information. You and you alone. If not... you're pretty stupid... because you're drastically outmanned here."
Damnd knows that this is a fair fight with the goons, but the well dressed man represents an unknown quantity. He's had plenty of experience fighting, and knows that this guy might be tougher than he looks. He's familiar with status and pecking orders in gangs, knowing them to be based largely on strength, at least at this level of operation. "You're on, dickhead," Damnd says, his friends backing up. Damnd steps out in front, and begins circling the well dressed man. "De name is Damnd. What do I call you, besides fuckface?" he asks, needling for as much information as possible, even if he can't beat this jerk.
COMBATSYS: Damnd has started a fight here.
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Damnd 0/-------/-------|
That cigarette is drawn again, as Damnd begins to circle him, and another exhale follows silently. The cig is then dropped to the ground and snuffed out with the toe of a well-polished leather shoe. Those baby blues then find their way back toward Damnd, and smirk crosses his face as the question comes... "Ace. That's not my real name, but it's pretty symbolic. It's also the best I'll give to a drug-addled fool like you..." It might sound strange coming from a man who smokes, that he's being derisive about Damnd's apparent drug use. But, despite that one habit, this man keeps himself and his gang members clean of that shit. Even pushing it is a big deal for him... his personal ethics were odd for a gang leader.
He turns to face Damnd, suddenly bouncing on his feet in typical boxing style... "Ladies first..." ... Though his back were turned to Damnd's boys at the moment, you could be sure if one of them even batted an eyelash wrong Ace's boys would be intervening very quickly.
COMBATSYS: Ace1] has joined the fight here.
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Ace1] 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Damnd
Damnd cracks his knuckles slowly, one after the other, flexing his interlocked fingers. "Ace, huh? Well I guess de Damnd mon better have de trump card tonight!" He takes two quick steps forward, before exploding off the ground at Ace. He spins through the air, a living cannonball of meat and bone aimed to bowl Ace over. "YEEEEEEEEEAH!"
COMBATSYS: Damnd successfully hits Ace1] with Damnd Ball.
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Ace1] 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Damnd
A Damnd goes whirling into the air and turns himself into a human ball, Ace's bouncing ceases momentarily. He just stares in confusion at the odd manner of attack as if it were the strangest thing he'd ever seen. "...What the he..." ...and before he can finish his sentance he's smashed into by Damnd's heft and sent sprawling backward on the ground. Dust flies everywhere, and that previously pristine suit is suddenly not so very snazzy looking at all!
"Ugh..." He groans, picking himself up from the ground and sneering at Damnd. Shit just got serious! "This suit cost me over a thousand dollars... not that I'd expect a mud dweller like you to understand what kind of money that is...!" He then charges right back toward Damnd and throws a hard right directly toward Damnds torso... aiming to hit him below the diaphragm.
COMBATSYS: Damnd blocks Ace1]'s Liver Punch.
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Ace1] 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Damnd
Damnd drops his arm to meet the punch, the fist bouncing off his mocha-covered muscles as Damnd grunts. "Hey, dat's why you gotta keep yo' ass kickin' clothes functional but stylish! Dey gonna get dirty!" He aims to grab Ace by his neck, lifting him into the air with either hand, before slamming him downwards onto his back. "So, 'Ace', did de guy who's payin' you tell you yo' were compensated for de hospital bills?"
COMBATSYS: Ace1] interrupts Guillotine Drop from Damnd with Check Hook.
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Ace1] 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Damnd
The formerly well-dressed man scowls as his punch is deflected solidly by the Jamaican drughead's firm musculature. He attempts to back off again thereafter, but Damnd is a bit quicker than he is and manages to hoist him into the air successfully. The rest of the attack does not come, however, for Ace smashes Damnd across the face with a hard right hook causing him to drop the suited gang leader to the ground.
Ace then rises from the ground for a second time, filthier than before, and angrily begins to loosen his tie. "Sorry, I dont take my fashion advice from people who can barely even match their socks..." The tie is then thrown to one of his boys in the foreground, and Ace begins to unsap the first two buttons of his shirt and sleeves as well. "Alright... let's try this again..."
Damnd's head jerks backwards as fist meets face, indeed dropping Ace. He stumbles back a step, touching his face where he was punched, removing his broken shades. "Okay, okay, okay," Damnd says, apparently disoriented, as he stumbles towards Ace. He swings with a hard haymaker from his right fist.
COMBATSYS: Ace1] blocks Damnd's Medium Punch.
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Ace1] 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Damnd
The clumsy haymaker is caught, skillfully, by a strong left hand. Ace then immediately retaliates with a vicious headbutt while Damnd is disoiented, in an effort to keep him disoriented. "You're pretty damn strong for a druggie... must be some local boss's hotshot. A right hand man?" It damn well better be... Ace didn't enjoy wasting his time on small time chumps.
COMBATSYS: Damnd blocks Ace1]'s Headbutt.
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Ace1] 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Damnd
Damnd raises his other forearm, bouncing the headbutt off his defenses with another grunt. "I'm de Duke's main guy on de streak, jerkoff," Damnd replies, as he gets his bearings. He aims to grab at Ace, shouting, "And you're gonna call me 'daddy'!" If he can grab him, he lifts him up, before tossing himself backwards, slamming Ace into the ground.
COMBATSYS: Ace1] interrupts Back Drop from Damnd with Cross Counter.
- Power hit! -
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Ace1] 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Damnd
"Probably not..." Ace says, casually, as he dances out of the way of Damnd's attempt to grab him. He then retaliates again with another hard right powered by body torsion from Damnd's left side. This one is, again, aimed at Damnd's skull. Pretty much all of his attack seemed to be aimed for the head, since it's the easiest place to do the most damage. The damage he's actually doing to Damnd so far seems qustionable though. "Ah, so it is. I'm glad to hear that, actually. If you had have been just some scum who wandered in here, I wouldn't want to waste my time."
"I'll teach you a lesson, white boy," Damnd replies, even as he's smashed in the side of the head. He spits a gold tooth out, before wiping the blood off his mouth with his forearm. He sallies forth, attempting to fall on Ace with a rain of fists. "I'm gonna pummel you stop dick! You is racist!"
COMBATSYS: Damnd successfully hits Ace1] with Punch Mayhem.
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Ace1] 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Damnd
This time around Damnd finally manages to get another solid hit on the haughty, suited, boxer. More like several of them actually! One punch after another comes, Damnd's meaty fists slamming into Ace's face... his mid-section... even managing to hit him below the belt once! This last hit causes Ace to stagger backwards, clutching his manhood, battered and beaten. His face is bleeding from several places, some ribs are probably broke, and he has a fractured arm as well from trying to block one of thoe mighty slugs.
Spitting blood onto the ground nearby, Ace groans. He then slowy collects himself and scowls at Damnd again. "Cheap shot punk..."
His boys in the background now are starting to get restless, one of them shouting.. "Hey, you want us to beat his ass boss?"
Ace spits again, angrily, in response... "Fuck no! This one is mine...". Having said that, the caucasian man in dirtied thousand dollar dress rushes back into Damnd's territory with all speed... "Who says I'm a racist? I never called you a ******!" There's the N word, and here comes the attack... Ace retaliates immediately with a volley of his own punches... aaiming to hit anywhere he can find an opening and make it hurt!
COMBATSYS: Damnd endures Ace1]'s Knockout Combo.
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Ace1] 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Damnd
Damnd blinks at Ace as he drops the n-word, his jaw dropping. He gets pummelled by a series of fists and fingers, stumbling backwards a couple steps, before surging forward with his own lightning series of strikes. "You cracker sucka, I'm gonna rip you apart!" Will black rage beat out white power?
COMBATSYS: Ace1] blocks Damnd's Hyper Damnd.
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Ace1] 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Damnd
Virtually all of Ace's strikes hit true, finding each and every target on Damnd's meaty frame. But despite this fact, the Jamaican right hand man is just too /Damnd/ powerful. He not only takes them all like a beast, but plows right through them and begins his own barrage of attacks against Ace anew... fueled by rage at his racist attitude.
Though Ace manages to throw up his guard, it is very nearly useless against the strength of Damnd and Ace soon finds himself sprawling to the ground damn nearly broken as the chain ends. "Fuck..."
As the fight is clearly over, and Damnd appears to be clearly more powerful than they had him pegged for, Ace's boys seem reluctant to do anything. Some of them are just plain scared stiff. After, Damnd's still standing and given how badly he beat Ace... he could probably take at least a few of them all by himself.
Ace coughs, dirt kicked up as he was sent sprawling having gotten in his throat. He then slowly sits up, eyeing Damnd warily with the only eye he can still manage to see out of... "...What the fuck do you want...?"
Damnd frowns down at Ace, breathing heavily as blood leaks out his mouth. "Okay, Ace, you little fucking cockmeister, you tell me who hired you, who's paying for all dis, and why you're destroying dis city. Me and my boys'll bounce if you tell me dat!"
For a moment, the boxer seems to just stare at Damnd in an empty manner. He's contemplating what the odds of victory are now, considering he's down already. If he could stand a better chance against Damnd this might be cake but... his boys certainly couldn't. He still had shit to do, and he certainly needed as many of his men alive and uninjured as possible. But if he ratted on the guy who paid him off, there might be hell to pay...
Pushing himself up to a kneeling position, and then promptly standing, albeit barely... it almost seems as though he's decided to attempt a final resistance. But then... "...I don't know who paid us off, I wasn't given the pleasure of being bestowed with a name..." He spits blood on a nearby tire, a disgusted look tainting his features... "...The guy was dangerous though. The kind of person you don't wanna fuck with. A real psychopath... he had that whole trained killer thing going on. He also seemed like he rather enjoys his job. You don't want to ask guys like that any questions."
He then finally manages to regain some composure, despite being somewhat broken, and pull another cigarette from his dirtied shirt pocket...
"He promised us money. Lots of it, and all we had to do was let them ship us out here and do exactly as we were told. I run my own little operation somewhere else... and it hasn't been doing so well... so it was a sweet deal." He then produces a lighter from his pocket, and flips it open. Lighting up the cig with an unsteady hand, he takes a slow draw... and then exhales... "I have to coordinate with a few other guys around town. Can't tell you exactly where they are though... they usually come find me." He /could/ tell Damnd where they last were, but Damnd'd probably have to fish that out of him. "I don't know the /why/ of it, and I don't care frankly..." He drops the lighter back in his pocket and removes the cig from his mouth with his right hand... exhaling. "...All I know is, someone very powerful and with a lot of money wants to see Metro die. That's what I'm here to do..."
Damnd nods at this, grinning widely. "Dat's right, you talk. Okay, mon...Hey, and jus' so dere's no hard feelings, from one gangbanger to anot'er..." He reaches into his vest, pulling out a joint, and tossing it to Ace. "Seeya around, mon." He turns, and stalks out, followed by the trio of Dug, Jake, and Simons.
Ace catches the sealed bag, containing a rolled joint, in his left hand... snatching it out of the air and watching Damnd leave with a look of frustration. "...Sure thing, scuz..." He then produces the lighter from his pocket and lights up the bag, tossing it to the ground nearby shortly after. He then turns and walks back toward his chair, and his boys... "...Somebody get me a fuckin' drink."
Log created on 18:43:31 08/10/2012 by Vega, and last modified on 00:41:34 08/11/2012.