Post by High Tide on Nov 13, 2015 22:17:05 GMT -5
The sea was where most pirates took their business to, and High Tide was no exception. Tonight the sea raged and swelled, like an overfilled bathtub. This didn't scare him, in fact it would have put negotiations firmly in his grasp, a “home field advantage” so to speak. Yet his contact flat out refused to travel the sea on a night like this, and time was of the essence for Tide. Indeed, if it hadn't been such a timely matter then that would have been the end of his correspondence with the man. He would not now be walking an empty street, his leather coat pulled up over his head in a feeble attempt to fend off some of the rain which was coming down in sheets.
The man who possessed that which High Tide sought was named Galen and he was a man with a shadiness to match his own. Yet High Tide played the game that was his profession with his wits about him, the same could not be said about Galen. He shook his head at the thought of the man's reputation. He was a lunatic, a goddamn mad man and there was no going to far when it came to his actions. Tide had heard a rumor from a reliable source that Galen had once flayed the skin from a man like a piece of meat being prepared for the night's meal, all because he had perceived the man had an interest in his mistress at the time. The irony of it all was that Galen had disposed of the same mistress within a week. Such was the cycle in the life High Tide lived.
He ran a hand across his eyes, attempting to dry his face, at least a little, but it was a losing battle. It didn't matter, he had the money with him and he was close to their designated meeting spot. Hopefully it would all be over quickly, and he could be back at his home, a stiff drink in hand. He absolutely abhorred being wet on land; it made him miss the sea all that much more.
Tide took a left turn at the next intersection, and then a right at the next street. He was only two streets away now and he slowed his pace. His eyes scanned, looking at everything. The sleepy houses with no lights on, the smattering of trees, the streetlamps which fought hard to shine in the gloomy weather. Everything. He hadn't gotten as far as he had in life by being a fool. It was not an exagerattion to call Galen a madman. In fact, if he had to liken it to PCW, no doubt Galen would be Nathan Saniti of the outside world, although he had to admit that at least Galen seemed to have some shred of sanity left. After he had witnessed Saniti's “change”, only to find out he would stand in the ring with him on the next Trauma, he had taken some time to put the insignificant man in his thoughts and recognized his change for what it was. A mental break. Saniti, a man barely living on the edge of reality and sanity had experienced a full mental break, and lucky Tide, he got to deal with the aftermath. All he could hope for was that Saniti's partner Dollface, who hugged the line between reality and fantasy herself, didn't chose this week to experience a mental breakdown of her own. He didn't have time to spank children and teach them how to behave.
His mind had wandered for too long though he realized as he turned on to the dead end street where Galen was supposed to be meeting him alone. Yet there they were, illuminated by the streetlamps, Galen and his three most trusted cronies. He kicked himself for being such an idiot, and wished desperately that Wasp was here with him. Yet his partner had gone on a trip for “personal reasons” and would not be back until Trauma and so as he approached the men, the pirate realized for the first time just how alone he was. Galen was a big man too, over six feet and possessing the body of a fitness freak.
“Greetings John, a pleasant evening isn't it?” Galen acknowledged, his voice high pitched and already getting on High Tide's nerves. As long as he didn't laugh, Tide figured he would be able to restrain himself.
“Galen, I don't have time for your games. You said you have that which I seek and I know I have the payment. Show me, prove to me that you have it and we will make this deal. Then you and I will go our seperate ways,” Tide spoke, the tone in his voice making it clear that there was no room for argument.
“As you wish,” Galen smiled, a rather strange sight to behold with his crooked teeth and his pale amber eyes. Galen drew forth a sack from one of his pockets and tossed it over to High Tide, who made sure to catch it tenderly. He loosened the string and looked inside, his smile giving away exactly how thrilled he was. Yes, Galen for all his madness, had not lied to him. Indeed, that which he sought was now in his hands and mere moments away from being in his possession.
“Very good Galen, I am satisfied that this is indeed that which I seek. Here is the payment we have agreed upon,” Tide replied his smile never faltering as he tossed a couple of sacks laden with rare gold coins towards the man. His cronies caught the bags easily, handign them over to their leader without even a thought of pinching a coin for themselves.
“I told you it was. However there are some unforseen circumstances here. Is the “great” John Reese getting soft in his old age? You made the biggest mistake, the most basic mistake in this business. Never come alone, and yet here I find you all alone, and there are four of us. I think that I shall have what is mine back, and keep your payment! Men, please retrieve what is mine,” Galen let loose his shrill, infuriating laughter and Tide realized that his words were true. He had made the mistake only a beginner would make, and this pissed him off all the more.
Galen's cronies, three large, bulky men advanced towards Tide. One was quicker then the other two and got to Tide first. That was his first and only mistake, as quick as a fly Tide let loose a vicious uppercut, knocking the man into next week. He crumpled on the floor like a sack of disobedient potatoes, his feet windmilling wildly on the slippery road, and didn't stir. The second and third saw this and changed tactics, now advancing on him as a pair. He could see a machete in the hands of one, while the other held a smaller, but no less deadly knife.
Tide wasn't completely unprepared though. Any good pirate worth their weight in gold carried at the very minimum one weapon at all times, and this was true for Tide. Hidden in a custom pocket in his jacket was a short sword he had used countless times to board ships in his youth, and now it would find it's first battle on land.
The machete man came at him, and Tide was easily able to sidestep the slow, heavy blow. Spinning to his left, cautious of the slippery ground below him and almost losing his footing, he managed to deflect the incoming knife from the second man, sending it harmlessly high. The machete man was already reacting and so Tide let his feet fail him, feigning that he had lost his footing. However it was a coordinated move, as he slid right through the gaping legs of the man, like a football going through the uprights. He spun around, reacting quicker than the machete man, and bashed him with the handle of his sword at the base of the neck. The machete dropped from the man's non responsive fingers as he too fell to the ground, at best unconscious.
The last of the cronies was quicker and managed to slice his knife across the shoulder of High Tide who winced in pain, but reacted instinctively, throwing his head backwards. He managed a lucky blow, the hard back of his head connecting with and obliterating the man's nose. As he turned he saw the man down on the ground clutching his face, and kicked him once to make sure he was no longer a threat. The man made no move to defend himself and Tide was satisfied.
That was when he felt the sharp edge of a blade against his neck and a hot, disgusting breath in his ear. “A good fight pirate, but you have indeed gone soft. Think of me and how I foiled you in the afterlife, will you?” Galen whispered in his ear almost seductively, before letting out another of his ear piercing rounds of laughter. Then it was suddenly all over.
Tide's survival instinct kicked in and in one fluid motion he brought his foot up hard into the fork of Galen's leg. At the same time his hands shot up and caught a hold of Galen's knife arm, flipping the would be murderer over him and hard onto the street below. Without even thinking Tide drove his sword right through the insane man's heart. He felt no guilt, no shame, no remorse. It must be done.
As he caught his breathe, and let the adrenaline die down, he surveyed the scene around him. Lights were starting to go on in houses, and Tide knew he had to be off. He quickly looted the man of the coins he had paid him, and that which he sought was still in his possession. With one more look down at the man who had tried to kill him, he spit on the corpse with the greatest of disrespect.
“A good fight, but you have indeed gone soft. Think of me and how I foiled you in the afterlife, will you?”
The man who possessed that which High Tide sought was named Galen and he was a man with a shadiness to match his own. Yet High Tide played the game that was his profession with his wits about him, the same could not be said about Galen. He shook his head at the thought of the man's reputation. He was a lunatic, a goddamn mad man and there was no going to far when it came to his actions. Tide had heard a rumor from a reliable source that Galen had once flayed the skin from a man like a piece of meat being prepared for the night's meal, all because he had perceived the man had an interest in his mistress at the time. The irony of it all was that Galen had disposed of the same mistress within a week. Such was the cycle in the life High Tide lived.
He ran a hand across his eyes, attempting to dry his face, at least a little, but it was a losing battle. It didn't matter, he had the money with him and he was close to their designated meeting spot. Hopefully it would all be over quickly, and he could be back at his home, a stiff drink in hand. He absolutely abhorred being wet on land; it made him miss the sea all that much more.
Tide took a left turn at the next intersection, and then a right at the next street. He was only two streets away now and he slowed his pace. His eyes scanned, looking at everything. The sleepy houses with no lights on, the smattering of trees, the streetlamps which fought hard to shine in the gloomy weather. Everything. He hadn't gotten as far as he had in life by being a fool. It was not an exagerattion to call Galen a madman. In fact, if he had to liken it to PCW, no doubt Galen would be Nathan Saniti of the outside world, although he had to admit that at least Galen seemed to have some shred of sanity left. After he had witnessed Saniti's “change”, only to find out he would stand in the ring with him on the next Trauma, he had taken some time to put the insignificant man in his thoughts and recognized his change for what it was. A mental break. Saniti, a man barely living on the edge of reality and sanity had experienced a full mental break, and lucky Tide, he got to deal with the aftermath. All he could hope for was that Saniti's partner Dollface, who hugged the line between reality and fantasy herself, didn't chose this week to experience a mental breakdown of her own. He didn't have time to spank children and teach them how to behave.
His mind had wandered for too long though he realized as he turned on to the dead end street where Galen was supposed to be meeting him alone. Yet there they were, illuminated by the streetlamps, Galen and his three most trusted cronies. He kicked himself for being such an idiot, and wished desperately that Wasp was here with him. Yet his partner had gone on a trip for “personal reasons” and would not be back until Trauma and so as he approached the men, the pirate realized for the first time just how alone he was. Galen was a big man too, over six feet and possessing the body of a fitness freak.
“Greetings John, a pleasant evening isn't it?” Galen acknowledged, his voice high pitched and already getting on High Tide's nerves. As long as he didn't laugh, Tide figured he would be able to restrain himself.
“Galen, I don't have time for your games. You said you have that which I seek and I know I have the payment. Show me, prove to me that you have it and we will make this deal. Then you and I will go our seperate ways,” Tide spoke, the tone in his voice making it clear that there was no room for argument.
“As you wish,” Galen smiled, a rather strange sight to behold with his crooked teeth and his pale amber eyes. Galen drew forth a sack from one of his pockets and tossed it over to High Tide, who made sure to catch it tenderly. He loosened the string and looked inside, his smile giving away exactly how thrilled he was. Yes, Galen for all his madness, had not lied to him. Indeed, that which he sought was now in his hands and mere moments away from being in his possession.
“Very good Galen, I am satisfied that this is indeed that which I seek. Here is the payment we have agreed upon,” Tide replied his smile never faltering as he tossed a couple of sacks laden with rare gold coins towards the man. His cronies caught the bags easily, handign them over to their leader without even a thought of pinching a coin for themselves.
“I told you it was. However there are some unforseen circumstances here. Is the “great” John Reese getting soft in his old age? You made the biggest mistake, the most basic mistake in this business. Never come alone, and yet here I find you all alone, and there are four of us. I think that I shall have what is mine back, and keep your payment! Men, please retrieve what is mine,” Galen let loose his shrill, infuriating laughter and Tide realized that his words were true. He had made the mistake only a beginner would make, and this pissed him off all the more.
Galen's cronies, three large, bulky men advanced towards Tide. One was quicker then the other two and got to Tide first. That was his first and only mistake, as quick as a fly Tide let loose a vicious uppercut, knocking the man into next week. He crumpled on the floor like a sack of disobedient potatoes, his feet windmilling wildly on the slippery road, and didn't stir. The second and third saw this and changed tactics, now advancing on him as a pair. He could see a machete in the hands of one, while the other held a smaller, but no less deadly knife.
Tide wasn't completely unprepared though. Any good pirate worth their weight in gold carried at the very minimum one weapon at all times, and this was true for Tide. Hidden in a custom pocket in his jacket was a short sword he had used countless times to board ships in his youth, and now it would find it's first battle on land.
The machete man came at him, and Tide was easily able to sidestep the slow, heavy blow. Spinning to his left, cautious of the slippery ground below him and almost losing his footing, he managed to deflect the incoming knife from the second man, sending it harmlessly high. The machete man was already reacting and so Tide let his feet fail him, feigning that he had lost his footing. However it was a coordinated move, as he slid right through the gaping legs of the man, like a football going through the uprights. He spun around, reacting quicker than the machete man, and bashed him with the handle of his sword at the base of the neck. The machete dropped from the man's non responsive fingers as he too fell to the ground, at best unconscious.
The last of the cronies was quicker and managed to slice his knife across the shoulder of High Tide who winced in pain, but reacted instinctively, throwing his head backwards. He managed a lucky blow, the hard back of his head connecting with and obliterating the man's nose. As he turned he saw the man down on the ground clutching his face, and kicked him once to make sure he was no longer a threat. The man made no move to defend himself and Tide was satisfied.
That was when he felt the sharp edge of a blade against his neck and a hot, disgusting breath in his ear. “A good fight pirate, but you have indeed gone soft. Think of me and how I foiled you in the afterlife, will you?” Galen whispered in his ear almost seductively, before letting out another of his ear piercing rounds of laughter. Then it was suddenly all over.
Tide's survival instinct kicked in and in one fluid motion he brought his foot up hard into the fork of Galen's leg. At the same time his hands shot up and caught a hold of Galen's knife arm, flipping the would be murderer over him and hard onto the street below. Without even thinking Tide drove his sword right through the insane man's heart. He felt no guilt, no shame, no remorse. It must be done.
As he caught his breathe, and let the adrenaline die down, he surveyed the scene around him. Lights were starting to go on in houses, and Tide knew he had to be off. He quickly looted the man of the coins he had paid him, and that which he sought was still in his possession. With one more look down at the man who had tried to kill him, he spit on the corpse with the greatest of disrespect.
“A good fight, but you have indeed gone soft. Think of me and how I foiled you in the afterlife, will you?”
