69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 10, 2019 19:05:53 GMT -4
It was around five in the afternoon- early enough that the sun was still shining bright, but late enough that people were making their way home. Charles had only been awake for a few hours, since his late night job and his vigilante work made his sleep schedule shift towards the early hours of dawn. The last thing the strange American expected, however, was a sudden text from Kenji. Charles figured that if the redhead had something to tell him around this time of day, he’d just stop by. Maybe he was too busy with school?
Unlocking his smartphone, his eyes widened as he read the text that he’d been sent. An image was attached- a blurry shot of some street sign he managed to make out as a place relatively nearby. As for what the text actually said:
Dads taking me. I don’t know where.
Charles entire demeanor changed, his expression contorting and hardening into one of pure stoicism. Immediately he took off his clothes, throwing on his brown leather pants and wrapping the strap around his chest, sliding the bowie knife into its sheath. Wrapping his dark green cape around him, he’d finish the outfit off with his typical cowboy hat. Although his get up would undeniably look ridiculous out in broad daylight in most circumstances, the lanky, wrinkled man gave off an aura that was undeniably menacing- one that suggested other people stay out of his way.
He wasted no time in hailing a cab, jumping into the back seat without any hesitation. ”Where to-” ”Drive. NOW” he demanded, ”**** street. Step on it- and don’t stop until I tell you.” Based on the kid’s text, he figured his dad was on the move with him- meaning he was most likely in a car himself and heading further and further away by the second. The caped crusader didn’t have a moment to waste- it was only a matter of time until his father found out about the phone and did something. Charles needed to follow the lead he had, and any information Kenji could hopefully continue to give him in the meantime. Gulping, the driver put the pedal to the medal and headed out at the vigilante’s request.
”I’m going to kill that son of a bitch” Charles mumbled to himself, causing the driver to look even more panicked.
Word Count: 393 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 10, 2019 20:57:59 GMT -4
826 words  ft. charles carter
Murano-san sat behind the wheel of a decrepit, forest-green sedan, tapping the steering wheel with an impatient index finger. Fortune had brought him there. Members of their organization had been in Mustafu to try and establish some cred with the criminal underground, to spread their influence. It was at that point that Murano-san caught word of a certain, familiar auburn-haired boy. One of his own. He had to confirm the claim for himself.
Kenji had been spied, weeks prior, at a particular cornerstore-- it was a shot in the dark, but-- hey, it was worth investigating. Murano-san had his chair partially reclined but, upon seeing his son, he sat up, a smile twisting at his lips. So, this was where they'd hidden the little bitch. In Mustafu. The seat was raised agan, and Murano-san watched as the boy disappeared around the corner, before starting his car. Kenji had only made it a half-block, when his father parked the car and closed-in on him.
The car was left idling as the man stepped-out of it, his footsteps purposeful and silent. Kenji didn't even turn around, his headphones tight over his ears. Perfect. Murano-san trotted closer, his eyes sweeping the streets. Quiet. Even better. He closed-in on the boy, clasping a hand over his shoulder before forcing the boy to turn. The look on his face was priceless-- fury quickly gave-way to disbelief, and there was fear in his eyes. Murano-san eased the headphones from his son's ears, aware that the boy was about to speak.
He didn't give him the chance. A sharp blow to the side of his head, and the kid crumpled like a dropped marionette. It was that easy.
***
When Kenji came-to, he first became aware of the sound of tires on pavement. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, or... how he'd gotten in a car... but... he was in a car. Kenji sat-up slowly, squinting at the driver. A cold thrill ran through him.
"Oh, you finally decided to finish your nap, huh?" Murano-san crooned, his hazel eyes peering mirthfully into the backseat, "Took you long enough."
"Dad," the boy whispered. His headphones were gone. Kenji felt his hip pocket. So was his MP3 player,
"You won't find 'm," Murano-san said drolly, "I took 'm." He waved the MP3 player tauntingly in the air, "Wouldn't want you getting any ideas."
He... thought it was Kenji's phone. The boy did not correct him.
"W... what are you doing? Y-you aren't supposed to come near me."
Kenji didn't know the streets. Not a part of Mustafu that he knew. Murano-san didn't answer him.
"W-where are we going?"
Nothing.
"What do you want?"
"That's not a very nice thing to say to your father," Murano-san said tersely, the volume of his voice rising. Kenji flinched, "It's been what, three years, and you can't fuckin' ask me how things are?"
Kenji slid a hand to the pocket by his knee, feeling the round contour of his phone. Thank God. He breathed a sigh.
"H-how are things, Dad?"
"Peachy."
The phone was eased out of Kenji's pocket, and he unlocked it with his thumb. His head throbbed. He tapped the "Messages" icon.
"Where are we going?" Kenji attempted again.
"Home. It's not right, separating families."
"You're not supposed to come near me." He clicked the thread with Charles.
"And who the fuck is gonna stop me, huh?"
Murano-san turned in his seat. He needed a shave, and his face was more gaunt then Kenji remembered. His eyes were more sunken, but… still just as fierce. Kenji froze. His phone was hidden beneath his hand.
"Nobody."
Murano-san faced the road again.
"Need some cash," his dad said obliquely, "You are going to help me get it."
The first message was typed. Murano-san was watching the road, so Kenji slowly... slowly... raised the phone and tried to snap a picture of the street corner. He didn't know if it was good. He sent it anyways. Kenji'd be so dead if his dad caught him.
He didn't have his backpack. So there was no possibility of making a sign. He just had his phone, and his father, and the crap in the front seat. Kenji tried the door handle. It didn't open when he pulled on it.
Kenji's father breathed a brief “heh”. He’d thought of that. Kenji’s eyes went to the floor. Then to his phone. They slowed to a stop, briefly, before Murano-san banked right. Kenji snapped another picture, and sent it. He hoped to God that Charles was awake. So many times he’d dropped by, only to have the American man be groggy with sleep. Dude operated on a whole other time schedule.
“You’re gonna get in trouble.”
“That’s a dumb fucking thing to say.”
They rounded another corner. They were heading towards the edge of town, towards the highway. Kenji recognized it now. He snapped another picture, and sent it.
ooc notes: |
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 10, 2019 21:08:33 GMT -4
Despite his unnatural appearance, Charles was a Godly man. His parents had raised him as a proper, Midwestern Christian boy. He went to church every Sunday- even all the way out here in Japan, which was a lot more difficult than he anticipated. He prayed every morning and night to the Lord- and he sought to act righteously, though he wasn’t presumptuous enough to assume he knew exactly what God demanded of him. Despite his ugly exterior, anyone who knew Charles and most people that actually sat down and talked to him realized that he was fairly down to earth- and generally good natured.
In this moment however, he felt something he’d never experienced before. Never as a vigilante had anyone he cared about been in danger. He grew up without any friends- only having his parents and maybe the preacher back home worth considering amongst his ‘loved ones’. This was the first time someone he genuinely felt for and empathized with was in trouble- and it awakened something new inside of him. In this rare moment that had only happened a handful of times throughout his life, the gray-skinned vigilante’s demeanor and intent matched that of his ghoulish and decrepit visage. The cab driver didn’t know anything about this guy, but a single glance was enough to gather that there was purpose behind those bulbous, pale orbs that were his eyes.
Over the course of several minutes, Charles’ phone would buzz twice- informing him of two new photos from Kenji. The first was too blurry to make out, but the second was clearly one of the highways out of town that he actually recognized. The devout man of God had travelled all along the outskirts of town before he finally found a Christian church, and during his expeditions he’d travelled along that highway before. Without hesitation, he’d give the driver instructions on where to go- taking out his wallet and slamming down around twenty thousand yen. ”It’s everything I’ve got on me. Step on it- we need to go as fast as possible to catch up” he stated, his intentions vague as the driver nodded nervously. After a few seconds of hesitation, he’d slam his foot down on the pedal, the car rapidly speeding up as they zoomed down the city streets and out onto the aforementioned highway.
As they began speeding down the road, the driver gulped once more before finally speaking up. ”S-sir, are you a criminal? Are you going to kill me?” Charles eyes darted up from his phone and towards the back of the man’s skull, glaring at him as he turned the question around in his head for a moment. ”I’m not exactly on the side of the law, but I ain’t no villain, and I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Someone needs my help- and they’re gonna get it. My hands may get dirty in the process. Satisfied?” he answered in a surreally calm tone, to which the man eased up ever so slightly: ”I see” he lied, deciding not to press the weird foreigner on his vague explanation any further.
Off in the distance down the highway, there was some sort of dinky looking green car. Though they were still a ways away, it wouldn’t take long before they reached it. Even though it was the only vehicle he’d seen out here thus far, the last thing Charles wanted to do was jump the wrong person and let Kenji’s scumbag father get away with that poor boy, so he quickly sent a text back to the kid, hoping he could respond:
What kind of vehicle are you in?
As soon as he hit send, he stared directly at the screen without blinking until he received a response, not daring to lose even a second in pursuit of Kenji.
Word Count: 636
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Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2019 1:32:01 GMT -4
525 words ft. charles carter
The car made a loping turn onto the highway, Kenji snapped a picture of the freeway on-ramp, and then set the phone by his side on the seat, his heart hammering in his chest. At least he’d leave a trail of crumbs to follow, in the event that Charles was really asleep for all of this… he’d still need to try and get out on his own, though. Kenji tried the window switch-- locked. He could always kick the window out, but at these speeds, he wouldn’t be able to hop out of the car…
Time ticked relentlessly by, and they rode in silence. The phone jolted at his fingertips, an incoming message. Kenji lowered his head.
What kind of vehicle are you in?
The boy touched his head contemplatively, then winced when he touched the raw spot on the side of his head. It was still tender from where his dad had slugged him.
Car. [SEND]
Kenji typed and sent. He looked around the interior, an ugly grey-tan. But what was… the outside? He couldn’t see from the inside of the car. Kenji stood slightly in his seat, and looked out the back window. A car could be seen almost out of their line of vision, yellow but otherwise indiscernible. Kenji looked closer, to the trunk. Green.
Murano-san tapped the brakes, sending Kenji lurching forward. His fall was broken by the seat in front of him, and he nearly dropped his phone.
“Sit your ass down.”
“Yes sir.”
Kenji sat, staring owlishly out the window. When he was sure that his Dad was focused again, he unlocked the phone again.
Dark green. [SEND]
With t-
Suddenly the phone snatched from his unsuspecting hands.
“Sneaky bastard, aren’t ya?” Murano-san said loudly, surveying the device, “The place you’re at is rich enough to give ya two phones?”
“N-no,” Kenji murmured. Murano-san ignored him, holding the phone closer for inspection, skimming the messages.
“Who are you texting?”
Murano’s voice had grown dark. The car swerved a little bit, as the driver wasn’t watching the road very closely.
“It says Charles, who’s that?”
“A friend.”
“Hm.”
He was rolling the window down. Kenji, forgetting his place, began to stand in the back seat again.
“Dad, no!!”
The phone was flung out the window, and shattered on the highway behind them. Shit. The car swerved unexpectedly, throwing the boy off-kilter again. Kenji's shoulder and face connected with the side door, smacking his already-tender head against the hard plastic ridge.
"SIT YOUR ASS DOWN."
This time, Kenji buckled his seatbelt, his heart leaping into his chest. That was all he had. His lifeline. His one way of contacting Charles. And now it was gone. His face throbbed from the impact, and Kenji gingerly felt along where he'd made contact with the door. It'd bruise, but nothing felt broken.
Tears sprung unbidden into his eyes, and he shrugged his shoulders, breathing shakily. It's funny how, even after being away from a bad situation for three years, your body still remembered what it was like to be afraid. Murano-san sneered. Just when life was finally going right, it got all messed-up again.
ooc notes: |
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 11, 2019 9:27:10 GMT -4
Charles received two more texts in quick succession confirming that Kenji was in a dark green car. Looking back up at the vehicle they were approaching, the cowboy noticed it starting to swerve before something came flying out of the front window- something that looked an awful lot like a phone. ”Pull me up next to that car” Charles stated, to which the man begrudgingly accomodated him. The last thing he wanted to do was pull up to a car swerving all over the place and risk getting into an accident, but he also didn’t feel like pushing his luck with this freak in the back seat.
As they quickly made their way up to the side of the shoddy, dark green Sedan, Charles closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayer- reaching out to God to give him strength.
O Lord,
Please grant me strength and courage
So that I may go forth with this task
Please keep Kenji safe
I won’t tell you what to do with his scumbag father
You are the one that ultimately judges man
But please forgive me for what I might do to him
For I might have to shed blood before your eyes
Please guide my steps
In your name I pray,
Amen.
As he finished and opened his eyes, he found the cab right next to the green Sedan, which thankfully seemed to stop swerving by now, and was keeping pace with it. ”Thanks for the ride amigo- but this is as far as I go. Once I’m out of here, it ain’t your fight anymore” ”What- wait, sir what are you doing?!” the man called out as he turned his head, Charles having unbuckled his seat belt and opened the back door. The air came rushing past him as they sped down the road at high speeds, Charles keeping one hand on the side of the car door opening and another atop his hat to keep it from blowing away. After a second or two of mental preparation, he leaped from the cab.
Although he couldn’t have been airborne for more than a few seconds, time seemed to slow to an eternity as his legs left the stable, carpeted flooring below and leapt into the air. Soon enough, his knees and arms would come into contact with the side of the green sudan, and quickly he’d climb onto the roof of the car and secure himself tightly with all four limbs. Once he was steadied, he’d remove one arm to unsheath his Bowie Knife and start stabbing as hard as he could into the roof of the car, causing large dents and loud banging noises to be seen and heard from inside the vehicle as he attempted to open a hole in the roof. Normally such a thing wouldn’t be plausible, but his Bowie Knife was particularly sturdy. Though it might not be enough to carve a hole through the car, it was definitely enough to do some serious damage and grab the driver’s attention.
Word Count: 507 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2019 20:43:10 GMT -4
538 words ft. charles carter
A car encroached upon their own which, now closer, Kenji recognized that it was a taxi. That on its own did not warrant cause for alarm. What did surprise him was to see who rode in the back seat. None other than the garish but welcome sight of Charles. Kenji couldn't stop the gasp that escaped him. His dad, having been unware that anyone was on their tail until only moments prior, had been driving at a pretty steady and unobtrusive pace. Somehow... by some miracle.. Charles had caught-up.
"The fuck is with this cabby?"
The boy watched. He barely breathed. Charles was saying something. Then he opened the door.
"The fuck?!"
Kenji couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't look away. If he looked away, it would break the spell and Charles would fall. Charles looked. Then he leapt.
The car jolted, releasing Kenji from his spell.
"Charles!" the boy's voice cracked, a mortified falsetto. Charles scrabbled a moment, then his foot found the spoiler. Tears had sprung to Kenji's eyes, his face lined with fury and dismay.
"Pull over!" Kenji yelled, wrenching free of his seatbelt. His hands were numb, so he fumbled it a little, "Pull the car over! Dad! Pull over!"
It was then that the business-end of a knife began to puncture the thin metal of the roof, a frantic staccato, sending Murano-san into a fury.
"Son of a bitch. Fuckin' lunatic."
He kept one hand on the steering wheel. The other unlatched the glove compartment.
Napkins. Gum. Air freshener. The metallic glint of a semi-automatic pistol.
Murano-san grasped it and took off the safety.
"No!!" Kenji lunged, grasping for his father's hands. The gun misfired out the window, shattering it. The car careened.
"Fuck off!" Murano-san spat. In the scuffle, Kenji had managed to get into tthe front seat. The butt of the gun was brought roughly down upon Kenji's head. A sloppy blow, not enough to knock him out. Fine. The boy had slipped into the foot-space on the passenger side, kneeling on shattered glass. While Murano-san was preoccupied with driving and aiming the gun, Kenji grasped for the emergency break. He'd seen people use it to park, before. The boy ripped it up. There was just a moment of delay, and then the tail end of the car squealed, tracing a wide circle on the highway. The momentum pushed Kenji flush with the door of the car.
White smoke kicked-up all around them. Then all was still. Kenji lay still for a moment, his head reeling from the equilibrium, before he registered that they were sitting still. Wasting no time, he unlocked the door and sloughed out the passenger's side, scrabbling free.
"Charles! Gun!" Kenji screamed, through the tears and the snot and the roaring headache, "Get off, he has a gun!" He didn't know if guns could shoot through metal, but he genuinely did not want to find out. The boy tried to stand, but the world tilted dizzily around him. He tottered to the dirt of the shoulder, and then sank, exhaling shakily. Everything was bright. Blurry. But at least he was out of the road. He would have run farther out of reach, but everything swam. Kenji felt ill.
ooc notes: |
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 11, 2019 21:05:09 GMT -4
Kenji Are You Okay, Are You Okay, Are You Okay Kenji?!
As he gathered his bearings, the redhead came barreling out- thank God he was alive and conscious. He started screaming about a gun before sinking down into the dirt after losing his footing. Seeing the bruises on his face and the cuts along parts of his pants and lower body from the glass shards made him want to run to the kid straight away- but first he had to deal with the immediate threat.
He ripped off one of the dark gray spots along his right arm, a lightly bleeding wound taking its place. Charles quickly stretched it- leaving one end hooked around his pointer finger and the other pulled back with the entirety of his hand. With that, he’d jump down from the car and set his eyes on the driver side window- some gaunt looking man fiddling with what appeared to be a pistol of some sort. Without giving him a chance, Charles fired the stretched rubber out at him, allowing the material to become as hard as stone after it left his fingers. Flying forward at high speed, it smashed through the driver side window and slammed against the side of the firearm, disarming the man as it flew out the passenger side window and towards Kenji, sliding only a few feet away from him.
Quickly, he’d rip off a spot from his chest, leaving another bleeding wound, and fling another stretched piece of rubber at the adult inside the car- hardening it as it soared through the air- this time attempting to aim right between his eyes. Whether it landed or not though was irrelevant- as after the man was disarmed and an attack had been thrown, Charles immediately rushed around the perimeter of the car and towards Kenji, sliding onto his knees as he approached the boy- wrapping an arm underneath his collapsed figure to try and prop him up.
”Boy- stay awake boy! Are you alright? What happened? You got any serious injuries?” he asked, bombarding the boy with his worries before his eyes drifted towards the car once more. ”That son of a bitch. That fucking piece of shit- son I’ll make sure he never bothers you again- I’ll fucking break his goddamn legs” he said as he unsheathed his Bowie Knife with his free arm, slamming it into the firearm, crushing the weapon undertow.
Word Count: 520 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2019 22:04:43 GMT -4
501 words ft. charles carter
Kenji was shivering, probably from the adrenaline, his breathing ragged as Charles got off of the car. He squinted, trying to get his eyes to focus, trying to hear what was being said, if anything. It was too bright to see, and he couldn't hear over the roaring in his ears. The sound of shattering glass became faintly apparent, and a cry rose in his throat? Charles?! Don't let that be Charles--
The sound was quickly swallowed when said gun skittered across the pavement, and came to rest just a meter or so off, with some sort of... putty... on it. Kenji squintedd at the gun, relieved and somewhat spooked, swaying in the breeze as though he was one of the blades of grass that pushed-up against the highway. Footsteps, running. Kenji started to get up, but he wavered, the world tilting. Charles came into focus. Kenji blinked hard again, trying to get a clear look at the man. If he didn't... see him clearly, Kenji was worried that Charles would flicker out of existence. Like he was a mirage. Too good to be true. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot in the car, and that made it harder to focus.
Charles was talking frantically, or maybe he was yelling, but the inquiries swam around Kenji like a school of sardines, too small and unintelligible, dizzying yet distinct. He couldn't catch hold of them. They were lost in the ringing of his ears and the throbbing of his brain against all of the blunt-force trauma he'd sustained. The man had a steadying arm around the kid's shoulder. Kenji touched Charles's cheek distractedly. He was... really there. He really was there.
"I was so scared," Kenji mumbled, letting his hand fall, "I thought you'd be sleeping."
But Charles hadn't been sleeping. Charles was here. He'd gotten the message. This should have placated the boy, but he couldn't stop shaking. He just-- couldn't calm down. It was probably the adrenaline.
"I'm glad you weren't. I thought- I thought-" his eyes went to the gun. Fast-forward to the present. It was the gun that brought everything back into focus, brought reality crashing back down, and Charles smashed it with a massive, dangerous-looking knife. It was too much. Everything was too much. The fourteen-year-old devolved into sobs. He couldn't speak his fears into existence. He thought- he thought that his Dad was going to shoot Charles. That Kenji would be forever adrift in the criminal underbelly once again, perhaps even dead. And Charles would be dead, too. He was terrified.
Still trembling, the boy burrowed his face against Charles, his body wracking with sobs. He curled a hand into the man's shirt, clinging to him as though Charles was a branch preventing him from being washed away. While a hard-boiled vigilante might be able to handle the duress of a near-kidnapping, the kidnapped boy could not.
"I wanna go," Kenji keened, "I just wanna go. It's too bright here. It's too loud. Please."
ooc notes: he's a little concussed, and therefore confused! |
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 12, 2019 11:18:17 GMT -4
In the midst of bombarding the poor kid with his frantic inquiries, Kenji rose a hand to touch Charles face briefly, telling the man how scared he was and that he had worried that the vigilante would’ve been asleep during his call for help. The hand would fall from Charles’ face as the redhead spoke, and the caped crusader’s stoic visage finally shattered- revealing a surprisingly expressive exterior. His face was a mixture of panic, fear, relief, and happiness, all rolled into one. Thank God he hadn’t been asleep. Thank God he had made it in time… in fact, his intense gratitude couldn’t be held just within his head, as the man began to mutter his praises.
”Thank you God, thank you….thank you...thank you. Thank you for letting Kenji be okay, thank you for letting me arrive in time. You’re wisdom and mercy are so great, O Lord I thank you…” he chanted, his words starting to slur a little towards the end as he began to sniffle- a single tear falling from his right eye. The boy continued to mumble himself- his eyes drifting towards the gun. At that point, Charles realized he needed to eliminate the immediate thread, and promptly smashed the firearm. The boy’s words rapidly declined into a series of sobs, Charles sheathing his knife once more before wrapping both arms around the boy and hugging him tightly. ”It’s okay boy, I’m here. I’m here- and I won’t let you go- I promise” he said, holding their embrace for a few seconds before separating himself once more. As much as he’d love to enjoy their reunion for longer, he still didn’t know whether or not the father was incapacitated, and how they planned to get out of here. For now, Charles would stand himself up- using his arms to pull Kenji up with him and try to steady the boy on his feet.
”I know you wanna go, boy. Let’s get you out of here” he said, wrapping an arm underneath the kids shoulders to support him as he cautiously made his way back towards the Sedan. The car was a wreck- puncture marks all along the top, both front windows smashed with glass scattered in and outside of the car, and the sudden pulling of the emergency brake couldn’t have been much help either. Still, there wasn’t another vehicle in sight- and the last thing Charles wanted right now was to get the cops involved. That wasn’t what he needed, and it especially wasn’t what poor Kenji needed either. Instead, he’d carefully make his way forward and try to peer inside, determining where or how the gaunt looking man was doing and whether or not he had another weapon ready. Charles didn’t care if he got injured, but the poor boy had been through enough- there was no way in hell he was letting him get shot, grabbed, or anything else by this humanoid shaped piece of shit. ”Stay close kid, and keep out of the windows if you can. I’m gonna make sure the coast is clear to commandeer this thing.”
Word Count: 518 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2019 15:39:47 GMT -4
582 words ft. charles carter
Charles murmured his praises, and then he murmured fierce reassurances to the boy. His arms constricted protectively around the boy. Kenji welcomed it. He was scared, perhaps a little nauseous from the whole ordeal, and honestly, he just wanted to be held. A Kenji on a more even-keel would deny ever needing this creature-comfort, but this Kenji shivered like a leaf in the wind, and let himself cry.
Charles began to untangle himself from the child’s desperate hold, turning his body towards towards the car. Kenji remained latched stubbornly onto his shirt, attempting to swallow his sobs and follow the man’s gaze. The man was trying to ease Kenji to his feet, and was met with a shaky unwillingness. Ultimately, Kenji was coaxed to his feet, albeit begrudgingly.
“D-d-don’t l-leave me,” Kenji hiccuped. Despite the quavering in his tone and the unsightly sniffling, he wasn’t trembling as much. The adrenaline was burning-off now that Kenji was free of the car and securely fastened to Charles’s side. While Charles had looped an arm around the boy’s shoulder, Kenji had put an arm around the man’s waist, his hand knotted stubbornly in the side of Charles’s shirt.
As Kenji made the shaky, hesitant approach towards the car, he began to become aware of the various pains on his extremities. His palms and shins stung, probably from the broken glass. And his head-- god, his head felt like it was anointed by a wreath of pain, searing in parts, pulsing in others. Even the faintest gust of wind made his forehead sting, and something tickled at his cheek. He brought his hand to his face-- blood. Ew. Kenji wiped his hand on his shorts. The light still felt too bright, everything was still out-of-focus if he looked too far down the highway, the world would waver in front of him. So instead, the boy looked towards Charles. He wanted to look anywhere that the car. He noticed that the ghoulish man was, likewise, bleeding.
“Y-you’re hurt,” Kenji observed. It was ironic how, with his own injuries, he was acutely aware of the man’s wounds, too, “It wasn’t Dad, was it?”
When Kenji was advised of Charles’ intentions, the boy’s reaction brought his fear to attention again.
“No-!” Kenji hissed.
They were standing by the car now. Kenji hadn’t even noticed that they’d been walking towards it… It was really hard to focus on much of anything for too long. Subconsciously, Kenji’s grasp on Charles’s shirt tightened, thinning his lips against the urge to start sobbing again. Tears were still coursing from his eyes, but fear kept him quiet. As the man leaned over to check the driver’s seat, Kenji tucked himself behind Charles, like a human shield, pressing his head against the older man’s back. His hands were still knotted in Charles’s shirt, as if he’d pull his nightmarish companion to safety if Dad suddenly surged into wakefulness.
What Kenji did not see was that his father was lolled forward in the seat, supported only by the seat belt. His nose had been broken, and was streaming blood. This mingled with the saliva that was leaking out of his mouth. He breathed shallowly. Out cold, but not dead. The chestnut-haired man sputtered, and Kenji flinched at the noise,
“Charles, please-”
It was funny how, when faced with a person who used to seem so powerful and frightening, the diminutive teen regressed to a frightened child, whining and clinging and refusing to peer into the car.
ooc notes: |
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 12, 2019 18:42:13 GMT -4
”Don’t worry- I already promised that I wouldn’t let you go” Charles responded, a small smile stretching on his face as he attempted to reassure the poor boy who clung so tightly to his side. Despite all the chaos and wreckage around them, having Kenji in his arm kept Charles’ more hateful emotions of the boy’s father at bay. The kid was bruised and banged up to hell, but with some treatment and care, he’d make a full recovery. The fact that the caped crusader was able to catch up to them in the first place and successfully rescue Kenji could only be summed up as one word: miracle. It was by the miraculous grace and guidance of God that they stood here together once more.
As they moved closer to the battered green Sedan, the redhead spoke up once more. ”These injuries ain’t nothin’ serious- just a side effect of my quirk” he explained, though the wannabe cowboy couldn’t help but feel bad that Kenji was worrying about him despite having been brutalized mentally and physically from this whole experience. ”Here, watch” he said, using his free hand to peel off another spot from his chest. A large but non-threatening wound would take its place- blood dripping lightly down his torso, but it clearly wasn’t anything serious or painful. He’d hand the gray blob to the kid, placing it gently into his other hand, not hardening the spot this time so that it would remain malleable. ”You can mess with it for a while if you’d like- it’s just rubber” he stated, a quiet, exhausted laugh escaping his lips.
As Charles went to check through the window, Kenji grabbed on to the vigilante even tighter- though the gray skinned foreigner ignored his warning. Thankfully, that human pile of garbage seemed out cold, blood dripping down his face while his head rested against the steering wheel. It was funny in a sick, twisted kind of way: Charles had wanted to break this guys legs and tear him apart only moments ago- but having Kenji safe and sound by his side and begging him to leave, he no longer felt an ounce of aggression at the pathetic sight. ”Guess this ride’s occupied- probably not in trusty condition anyway. One second.”
Charles would pull out a second phone, one that Kenji wouldn’t have seen before unless he rummaged around in the vigilante’s belongings while he was asleep. After tapping a few buttons, a ringing sound could be heard. He’d press the phone up against his ear and wait until the recipient picked up on the other side before speaking: ”Drifter, it’s me, Spots. I’m on the **** that goes outside of town. I’m next to a smashed up green Sedan in the middle of the road. No one else is out here right now, but I need you to come as fast as possible before someone drives by and calls the cops. Bring any medical supplies or first aid you have with you too. I don’t have any money, but I can pay you back later” he’d say, waiting for the man on the other end to accept or deny his request before hanging up and sliding the phone back into his pocket.
Word Count: 542
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Post by Deleted on Apr 13, 2019 14:06:57 GMT -4
373 words ft. charles carter
Kenji accepted the proffered glob of rubber, kneading it his free hand. It peeled from his palm flecked red from the small abrasions.
“Cool,” the kid murmured appreciatively. Having a distraction, even something as simple as putty to fuss with, helped placate Kenji. He trusted that Charles would handle the situation-- he no longer needed the rush of adrenaline that had fueled his retaliation. Charles pronounced the ride to be taken-- Kenji didn't want to get back in the car anyways-- and asked for his patience. The boy nodded, sniffling deeply and mopping at his eyes. Charles had this handled.
The cowboy fished a phone from his pocket, a crappy little flip phone. He listened to his guardian's end of the conversation. And, as he listened, his head throbbed painfully. So Kenji closed his eyes and nestled his head against Charles's side.
No cops? But his dad was breaking the law just by coming within 30 meters of the boy! And Kenji was clearly the victim, and Charles his savior! Kenji would tell the police the whole story… no, Kenji trusted Charles, and whoever was on the other end of the line. If Charles said they needed to leave before the cops were called, then they really needed to leave.
The hand that had been aimlessly manipulating the rubber had gone slack, barely hanging-on to the putty, and Kenji was putting a lot of weight against Charles. He just… wanted to close his eyes. If he was asleep, be wouldn't have to deal with the sharp intensity of the light and the sound. His guardian jostled his shoulder, and Kenji scrunched his face, clearly displeased from being interrupted.
“I'm not going to sleep,” the boy fibbed, his words a little slurred, “I'm just. Closing my eyes.”
Being jostled awake seemed to jostle some memories, too, because the boy added, in a groggy and confused tone, “I was… walking home from school. I had stuff. Where's my stuff?”
Charles's guess was probably as good as his. But he didn't want to leave his stuff, whether they were driving or walking back into town. Kenji let his head loll back against Charles's side. God, he hoped they weren't walking.
“So, do we have a ride?”
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43 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
21 Years
Male
"Drifter"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Arvis Belmont on Apr 14, 2019 0:41:53 GMT -4
Being in the middle of the afternoon with a lack of work to do was a bit of an odd feeling for the blonde vigilante. Normally around this time he would either be doing his previous job of ferrying people back and forth in his cab driver-like task to be paid, he now properly was hired to work for Delta at the forth corner and...well...it gave him a lot of time to kill during the morning and afternoon.
He wondered how much this might impact his vigilante work, though considering he has been handling his daily life with much less danger and threats to his life, it might actually be for the better. In fact, his only connection to the darkened world of criminal affairs in recent times was Spots, which he hadn't spoken to since giving him a check in call to establish that the number given had worked properly. He hadn't seen the man, nor had they interacted past that.
Pulling tightly on a particularly stubborn bolt that refused to move, Arvis sighed and wiped away a bead of sweat with the back of his palm. How long had it been since he actually had time to do repair work on automobiles? Not since before deciding to work for the Fourth Corner, if Arvis had to take any guess.
The wrench was tugged with a good amount of force, feeling the metal starting to give way as he grit his teeth and-
*bbbbrrrgggg!*
A sudden, loud rumbling rattled against the frame of the car, ringing within the confines of the hood and startling Arvis enough to swing his head upright, smacking the back of his skull on the lifted up hood of the car. Stifled muttering and swearing burst forth from Arvis as he released the wrench and clasped the back of his head in pain. What the hell was that!?
In his state of frustration, he finally noticed that the noise didn't come from the car itself, but instead the phone in his pocket that rested against the front end of the car. Snatching the phone out of his pocket with a hand still resting on the throbbing pain from the blow to the head, he peered at the number to notice...Spots?
Almost as if the man had read his thoughts, Arvis wondered why the man chose to suddenly call. Regardless, he answered as politely as he could despite the annoyance. "Hey man, what's-" Arvis didn't get more than a few words in before Charles rather rushed the subject of the call. It sounded rather dire, or important at least, and the man's tone was rather urgent. Though he didn't know the context of the situation, if it was enough to shake up the vigilante, Arvis would have to trust that it wasn't anything good.
"Uh, yeah. I'll rush over there as fast I can." Arvis responded, starting to wipe away any easily cleaned away grease or sweat with a spare towel in hand. The man hadn't given him any proper instructions, but he said outside town, so Arvis would have to guess it might have been the outskirts he spoke of. "I will grab what I can and keep an eye out for a green sedan."
Not really needing more talk, Arvis hurried to his living quarters to grab any extra medical supplies he might have had and dumping it into a duffle bag. Despite his lack of knowledge of first aid, he still kept a steady flow because of his vigilantism. Taking the fastest automobile he could, Arvis didn't even waste time changing clothes from the rags he was wearing for repair work.
Speeding down the road at as manageable speeds he could muster for afternoon driving and not getting pulled over for speeding, Arvis soon found himself hitting the outer fringes of the city. His eyes peeled for the mentioned vehicle, it wasn't long before Arvis started to slow down at the sight of two figures standing along side a pulled over car. The one was definitely Spots, but Arvis didn't recognize the shorter figure and it made him raise a brow in confusion as he came to a halt at the scene.
Flicking the locks, Arvis rolled the window down and saw the slouched driver in the other vehicle, passed out or...
"Get in!" Arvis barked out the window, unsure of how to take the scene. He'd put faith that answers would come, or else his trust in Spots thus far had been ill advised. Glancing at the review mirror, he didn't notice anybody driving down the road or tailing him, which was good. Arvis cursed under his breath, attempting to stay calm at the sight of the injured boy. Just what in the hell did Spots just drag him into?
"Supplies is in the back seat. I wasn't sure what exactly was needed, so I just grabbed it all."
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69 Posts
0 EP
EXP
Total
27 Years
Male
"Spots"
Watchdog-Rank Quirk:
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Post by Charles Carter on Apr 14, 2019 12:59:01 GMT -4
Thankfully, Drifter said he’d be over as soon as he could and would keep an eye out for the green Sedan, to which Charles thanked him and promptly hung up. Worried that Kenji might have a concussion, Charles jostled the boy to keep him awake. He’d prefer not to risk him falling asleep until he knew the extent of the injuries he’d obtained. ”You’re stuff? Right- I’ll look real quick” he said, escorting the young man along with him so he’d continue to move, hopefully keeping his eyes open. ”Yeah, we’ve got a ride coming- don’t worry.” A quick scan of the back seat showed nothing, so Charles moved towards the front again, where the unconscious, biological father was stilled rolled forward. After reaching his hand it to flick the switch up that popped open the trunk, he noticed the familiar sight of Kenji’s headphones and mp3 player near his dad, broken and smashed up. Reaching his arm in to grab them, Charles visibly flinched as his hand came into contact with one of the scattered glass shards, giving him a rather nasty cut before he was able to grab the boy’s destroyed belongings.
”Here kid- sorry to say they didn’t make it” he apologized to the redhead as he handed over the headphones and mp3, the blood from the newly formed cut on his hand dripping onto them slightly. After that, he’d make his way over to the trunk to find his backpack and skateboard, which he hauled up himself with his spare arm. ”Got it- this should be everything, right?” he’d ask Kenji, checking to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
By the time that was all said and done, the familiar cab from that fateful night pulled over, the window rolling down to reveal the tall, blonde figure of his trusty companion, Drifter- who promptly shouted for them to get in. Without hesitation, Charles would signal him to pop open the trunk so he could throw Kenji’s stuff inside before slamming it down and entering into the backseat with the boy. His vigilante companion would explain that he grabbed whatever medical supplies he could and threw them in the back seat, which the gray-skinned man quickly found. ”Thanks a million, Drifter. I seriously owe you for this. Now boy- hold still” he said as he carefully placed his hands on Kenji’s face and started taking a closer look at his bruises. ”Alright, now hold still-” he said as he took some kind of ointment out from the haphazard pile of supplies and started to gently smear it onto the afflicted areas. He still didn’t seem to mind the bleeding wound on his own hand, except for making sure it was far away enough that he wouldn’t drip any blood on the poor boy.
Word Count: 467 |
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Post by Deleted on Apr 14, 2019 18:57:55 GMT -4
678 words ft. Charles and Arvis
It felt like forever between when the call was made, and the car arrived. The road was quiet-- eerily so. Like Charles and Kenji were the last people on earth following some great cataclysm. Kenji lingered flush with Charles side, mostly letting his eyes rest and keeping his ears open. The cowboy did not let go. Even as they surveyed the car and fished out Kenji's belongings. The proximity placated the young teen. Kenji opened his eyes when the headphones and MP3 player were scrounged from the passenger seat. The MP3 was snapped in two, totally unsalvageable. One of the ear-cups had been crushed on the headphones.
It felt trivial, in the grand scheme of things. Charles was here, Kenji was safe… this wasn't the first personal belonging that had been damaged by Murano-san, either. Kenji carefully turned the device over in his hand while Charles surveyed the trunk and withdrew his school pack and skateboard. At least his dad hadn't dumped those.
“That's it,” the boy confirmed.
As they stood and waited, Kenji lingered next to Charles, ponderous over the broken device in his grasp. The roar of an approaching car was thundering down the road, which sent a thrill through the boy. What could they do? Hide? Run? The car came to a quick halt. There was a blond man at the wheel. Locks flicked. Window rolled down.
>> “Get in!”
Drifter. The two surged into motion, Charles gesturing for the blond to open the trunk. Kenji shakily circled the car, opening the door to the back seat. It was cool inside the unfamiliar vehicle.
“Um… thank you… Drifter,” the boy murmured apprehensively, repurposing the name that Charles had utilized, “I'm…” remembering how Charles had laughed away his name when they'd first met, the child said, “... Kenji. Thank you.”
Charles got in, and there was brief exchange regarding the duffel in the middle of the seat. First aid. Good. The child buckled his seatbelt. Charles spoke urgently, instructing Kenji to turn towards him. The boy did as he was told, rotating in his seat. The man fussed with a bottle of neosporin, squeezing it into a fingertip before taking hold of Kenji's chin with his free hand.
At the initial contact, the boy winced. It stung. The ointment was first applied to the gash from the butt of the gun, then to the rug burn on his forehead. Kenji but his lip, trying not to fuss. As he looked at Charles, Kenji was once again reminded of how unfair life could be. His own father, his own flesh and blood, would sock him, beat him with a gun, and throw him around the car. A human man could commit those atrocities. And then there was Charles-- ghoulish, garish Charles-- who, god knew, probably got treated like shit for how he looked-- rescuing and tending to the injuries of a boy that didn't even belong to him.
Kenji could feel his eyes welling-up again. He couldn't stop them. It felt safe, here. Safe enough to cry. Safe enough to speak his fears into existence.
“I thought Dad was going to kill you,” he confessed, “I thought he'd kill you, and then nobody would find me.”
That sentiment sat pregnantly on the air. So Kenji kept speaking, despite the tightness in his throat and the wetness of his voice.
“I stopped at the convenience store, the one we went to that one time, and he grabbed me and hit me unconscious,” the boy recounted, “And then I woke up in his car and that's when I texted you. He took my MP3 cuz he thought it was my phone- and-” the rest was a blur. Kenji sighed shakily. Reality was setting in.
“I can't believe he found me. He wasn't supposed to find me.”
That's why he had been moved to Mustafu, to get him out of Tokyo, and away from the sway of his parent's gang. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't. Kenji looked to Charles, his protector, for some sort of reassurance
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