Loony BoB
07-09-2011, 10:44 AM
Since there was never really anything conclusive posted into the old gang wars thread, a few people have been left confused by the ending so I figured I'd come up with something a little bit more elaborate (and, fitting for Gang Wars, it may be fairly deus ex machina). If Guardian XIII / Jiro don't like the ending, they can throw this into Writer's Corner, but I think it works well enough. I apologise for my lack of writing skills, though, I've not written story stuff for years. :p Anyway, here we go! The --//-- bits indicate a change in perspective, time and/or location.
--//--
blackmage_nuke - or "Nuke" as his buddies called him - was a pretty casual guy. He sat in his chair, anxiously flipping through a magazine, finding nothing interesting and tossing it back onto the coffee table. He couldn't focus very well on the articles when he was about to have an interview with ShlupQuack. The head of the Elite Police, she was a headstrong leader and prided herself on her quick and accurate judgement of character, her ruthlessness in the field of duty and an eye for talent. Nuke believed he had that talent, but he was still nervous as he wasn't sure that ShlupQuack would feel the same. He unwittingly started shaking his leg, pushing the knee up and down on the balls of his feet. His right hand started tapping at a pen he didn't even realise he'd picked up. God, how long would this take? Noticing his knee, he stopped it and leaned forward so that his arms were resting on his legs. Can't show the nerves, man. Control yourself. This is your time to move up in the world. He pondered that line one more time, steeling himself.
"Hey."
Time to move up in the world.
"Hey."
Hmm?
"Hey! Mr. Nuke?"
Nuke looked up, startled. Scanning the room blankly, he brought his attention to the direction of the voice. A redhead with a southern accent stood a few meters to his right, at a door. Opening it, she motioned for him to head forward. "ShlupQuack will see you now." Nuke got up, straightened up his suit and headed in.
--//--
ShlupQuack was busy. Hell, more than busy. But the number of people working for her had diminished in recent times to gang warfare and she knew that she needed more recruits. She never took long with these interviews, though. She had her methods. "So, Mr. Nuke..." she began. "I understand you've been looking at police work lately and I've seen you at the range. You're good. Why should I hire you, though? There are a few cops out there that I could hand-pick." She knew that she couldn't do that often, really. Cops had their uses, and she needed people with more experience with a gun than with a pen. In this day and age, the regular police spent their time pushing pens and calling in the Elites for the dirty work.
As the interview went on, Shlup saw the shine of sweat picking up on the guy's forehead. The fumbling of hands, the shifting of position from time to time. This guy was really nervous. Kind of expected, I suppose. But this guy was way more shifty than normal. No good. She pulled a gun on him. "How stupid do you think I am?"
--//--
"WHAT THE smurf!?" Nuke's mind whirled. He covered his head with his arms, turned slightly to the side and slid quickly down the chair, hiding behind the desk. "WHAT THE smurf!?", he repeated a few times.
"I know a gang member when I see one." Shlup responded, coolly.
"I'm not! I swear! What the smurf, man! H... help! God, someone help me! She's smurfing crazy!" Nuke was terrified.
"Thanks, Mr. Nuke. We'll be in touch." A southern accent.
"What!? Help me!" Tears were coming down a little now, nothing was making sense.
"It's okay. It's part of the interview. You can go now."
"What?"
"It's time to go. Sorry if you need a new pair of pants."
--//--
Two years later
Nuke had kept himself at home for a month after that affair. He didn't know what to do with himself. He had no intention of joining the army, the police spent more and more time working behind desks than ever and he was left feeling sick for a week after having the head of the new "Elite Police" pull a gun on him. But time had moved on over the months and eventually he'd found a use for himself. Not for the law, though. Well... maybe for a different kind of law. He was good for something - and that generally involved dirty jobs, the ones nobody wanted. It started with a few jobs for someone he didn't really know - just a guy that had posted up something about needing a secure courier. It took five jobs before he realised he was delivering messages for a new gang that called themselves the Misfits.
The Misfits didn't own any real established territory or anything, but it turned out his work was involved in helping change that. They came from the small sides of EoFF City. Postcodes such as the highly policed areas that the big gangs stayed out of - you know, postcodes like FF1 through FF5. Nuke was delivering paypackets out to very rural areas, though, places he thought nobody really occupied anymore. Later on he got an offer to join them, but gangs weren't his thing. Told the guy he didn't feel right with it, and since the Misfits weren't a big gang, they didn't want any trouble. They let him go, but his name was known in the circles. Other people asked him to do similar things and although he never asked, he knew it was always someone who worked for a guy who was in the gang business.
Much later, the gangs themselves would actually come up to him and ask for things. Bigger things. "We want some food, man. Can you get us some take-out?" By this time, Nuke knew that only the last word was relevant. "Takeaways, yeah? What do you want, McDonalds? KFC? Fat Chocobos?" He'd play along until they got a little more specific. 'Pig food' was what they'd ask for, and they'd give a name and he knew what to do. He'd find the guy, get the take-out and their pigs would get fed. They were easy jobs - local businessmen who'd not paid up, sometimes the new boyfriend of an ex of a high profile gang member, sometimes another courier who wasn't packing. He never got involved with a job where he could see a gun, though. One sight of a pistol - hell, even a knife - and Nuke would be running. He didn't like that kind of problem. But basically, he'd turned into a small time crook. A lackey-for-hire. Never tied to a gang, though. He'd thought about it but he didn't have the nerves. And after he finally did build up the nerves, the gangs had already decided he was gutless. No good. He resented that, felt he was being underrated, but so be it. At least they showed him respect when they met. He hated the Elite Police for all they were worth. They never really got close to him, though. He was one of a hundred guys who were doing similar jobs. His guns were provided by gangs and he knew a guy who could melt them down for him if he ever had to use them.
But yeah, things were good for him. He had been paid decently for the handful of kills he'd been involved with. But work was running thin lately. Cops were going in heavy, gangs were too. People were dropping dead everywhere and he was scared. Only a few of his clients remained, and only a couple of them were big-time. Last time I checked. Nuke thought to himself, considering how few recent requests he'd got from people he used to be in regular touch with. Might all be dead by now. Heh. He had to pick his jobs carefully to avoid crossing the wrong people and had resorted to mere petty crime of late. Finally, though, a reasonable note came in. A no-nonsense job, sending a notable amount of cash to a cop who had helped tip Rantzien off about a raid earlier in the week. He'd paid this copper before and he knew he was pretty safe. An old guy, almost retired but just wanting a bit of cash for his family before he went out. Smart move, really - nobody suspected an old guy with a good record of being crooked. Anyway. Nuke took the job.
--//--
"WHAT THE smurf!?" Nuke near shat himself. He hid behind the desk. Deja vu.
It was Snake. Oh, god, he didn't know it, but he felt it. It was smurfing Snake. He'd heard about the guy - they all had. This guy had to be him. It certainly wasn't a cop. Hell, maybe it was. This place was so smurfed up, Nuke couldn't be certain of anything anymore. Either way, if what he'd heard about Snake was true, he may as well have been invincible and invisible. This guy cleaned up half the town whenever things got out of control. As if he owned the entire god damned city.
Calm, slow footsteps moved around the desk as Nuke shivered, reaching for his gun, but then thinking better of it.
"I assume you've heard of me?" came the first words of the strange man. A strange voice, too. Not normal. Creepy, but not obviously so. Just twisted enough to send a chill down your spine, but not so smurfed up that his clearly spoken words didn't carry an air of authority.
"S... sss..."
Snake rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, yes. Anyway. Don't worry, you'll be fine. I just want to know a bit of information..."
--//--
Snake got everything he needed. Everything. He sniffed at the whole idea of the Elite Police, always going after the top ten or so guys in a gang when if they just focused on a bit of investigation, they could get anything out of the right man. Spending all their time on heavily armed raids and trying to get 'arrangements' with one gang against another... they weren't Elite Police, they were just the EoFF City Special Forces. They were good, but at army jobs, not policing. Hell, nobody was good at policing in EoFF City. Snake smiled as he got the final details. Except me, I guess.
"Take me to him." Snake said, and got up.
"Are you smurfing cra--" Suddenly, the long end of a gun Nuke had never seen before appeared in front of his eyes. Lightly grazing the skin between his eyes, the cool metal made Nuke re-think his response. He breathed heavily, collecting himself. "Look, I don't even know where the hell he --" BLAM! Gunshot. And again. Blood covered Snake's arm, and the queer man turned away from Nuke, dropping his weapon. A new voice resounded throughout the room.
--//--
"Good man, Nuke. Get out of here." Rantzien walked into the small office, threw a pistol to the side and pulled a rifle which he'd strapped to his other arm. Snake ducked, but there was only air between them. A cracking shot burst through the air and Snake howled as a bullet drilled into his shoulder. "Just seems like if you want to get rid of a snake around here, you have to do it yourself." he growled, targeting Snake's legs. Bang. Bang. Bang. Rantzien followed the shots up with a swift kick to the head of Snake, who spat blood across the floor. He turned his head to face Rantzien, muttering.
"You'll never run this city," he spat, "just you --" another kick to the head.
"Shut up. I already do. Bandits run..." Rantzien stopped himself, cursing the loss of his last trusted men. "I run everything now. You are no longer required in EoFF City."
"smurf you. You'll die. You'll get what's coming to you. Just like all the others did."
Rantzien took a moment to laugh at Snake. "Yes, they're all gone. And I sincerely thank you for that. Goodbye."
Bang.
--//--
Nuke sat there, stunned. Just a moment ago, there was a gun in his face. And now, Rantzien stood above Snake's body, not even a scratch on him. Nuke didn't know how. By all accounts, it doesn't make sense. But there he was. He'd got him. Snake was on the way out, but he spoke those words. "Just like all the others did." And Nuke's earlier thoughts were confirmed. His clients were dead. Only Rantzien remained. With Snake gone, there was nobody to fear anymore. Rantzien was King of EoFF City. He ran everything. Nobody could stop him.
Nobody else at all.
The thought ran through Nuke's head as Rantzien casually pointed his gun at Snake's head. "Yes, they're all gone."
Nuke's nerves ran through him like crazy. And then, as long before, he collected his thoughts.
This is your time to move up in the world.
Calm. Steeled.
"And I sincerely thank you for that."
Nuke grabbed Snake's gun.
"Goodbye."
Bang.
Rantzien glanced at Nuke. "Wha--"
Time to move up in the world.
Bang.
--//--
--//--
blackmage_nuke - or "Nuke" as his buddies called him - was a pretty casual guy. He sat in his chair, anxiously flipping through a magazine, finding nothing interesting and tossing it back onto the coffee table. He couldn't focus very well on the articles when he was about to have an interview with ShlupQuack. The head of the Elite Police, she was a headstrong leader and prided herself on her quick and accurate judgement of character, her ruthlessness in the field of duty and an eye for talent. Nuke believed he had that talent, but he was still nervous as he wasn't sure that ShlupQuack would feel the same. He unwittingly started shaking his leg, pushing the knee up and down on the balls of his feet. His right hand started tapping at a pen he didn't even realise he'd picked up. God, how long would this take? Noticing his knee, he stopped it and leaned forward so that his arms were resting on his legs. Can't show the nerves, man. Control yourself. This is your time to move up in the world. He pondered that line one more time, steeling himself.
"Hey."
Time to move up in the world.
"Hey."
Hmm?
"Hey! Mr. Nuke?"
Nuke looked up, startled. Scanning the room blankly, he brought his attention to the direction of the voice. A redhead with a southern accent stood a few meters to his right, at a door. Opening it, she motioned for him to head forward. "ShlupQuack will see you now." Nuke got up, straightened up his suit and headed in.
--//--
ShlupQuack was busy. Hell, more than busy. But the number of people working for her had diminished in recent times to gang warfare and she knew that she needed more recruits. She never took long with these interviews, though. She had her methods. "So, Mr. Nuke..." she began. "I understand you've been looking at police work lately and I've seen you at the range. You're good. Why should I hire you, though? There are a few cops out there that I could hand-pick." She knew that she couldn't do that often, really. Cops had their uses, and she needed people with more experience with a gun than with a pen. In this day and age, the regular police spent their time pushing pens and calling in the Elites for the dirty work.
As the interview went on, Shlup saw the shine of sweat picking up on the guy's forehead. The fumbling of hands, the shifting of position from time to time. This guy was really nervous. Kind of expected, I suppose. But this guy was way more shifty than normal. No good. She pulled a gun on him. "How stupid do you think I am?"
--//--
"WHAT THE smurf!?" Nuke's mind whirled. He covered his head with his arms, turned slightly to the side and slid quickly down the chair, hiding behind the desk. "WHAT THE smurf!?", he repeated a few times.
"I know a gang member when I see one." Shlup responded, coolly.
"I'm not! I swear! What the smurf, man! H... help! God, someone help me! She's smurfing crazy!" Nuke was terrified.
"Thanks, Mr. Nuke. We'll be in touch." A southern accent.
"What!? Help me!" Tears were coming down a little now, nothing was making sense.
"It's okay. It's part of the interview. You can go now."
"What?"
"It's time to go. Sorry if you need a new pair of pants."
--//--
Two years later
Nuke had kept himself at home for a month after that affair. He didn't know what to do with himself. He had no intention of joining the army, the police spent more and more time working behind desks than ever and he was left feeling sick for a week after having the head of the new "Elite Police" pull a gun on him. But time had moved on over the months and eventually he'd found a use for himself. Not for the law, though. Well... maybe for a different kind of law. He was good for something - and that generally involved dirty jobs, the ones nobody wanted. It started with a few jobs for someone he didn't really know - just a guy that had posted up something about needing a secure courier. It took five jobs before he realised he was delivering messages for a new gang that called themselves the Misfits.
The Misfits didn't own any real established territory or anything, but it turned out his work was involved in helping change that. They came from the small sides of EoFF City. Postcodes such as the highly policed areas that the big gangs stayed out of - you know, postcodes like FF1 through FF5. Nuke was delivering paypackets out to very rural areas, though, places he thought nobody really occupied anymore. Later on he got an offer to join them, but gangs weren't his thing. Told the guy he didn't feel right with it, and since the Misfits weren't a big gang, they didn't want any trouble. They let him go, but his name was known in the circles. Other people asked him to do similar things and although he never asked, he knew it was always someone who worked for a guy who was in the gang business.
Much later, the gangs themselves would actually come up to him and ask for things. Bigger things. "We want some food, man. Can you get us some take-out?" By this time, Nuke knew that only the last word was relevant. "Takeaways, yeah? What do you want, McDonalds? KFC? Fat Chocobos?" He'd play along until they got a little more specific. 'Pig food' was what they'd ask for, and they'd give a name and he knew what to do. He'd find the guy, get the take-out and their pigs would get fed. They were easy jobs - local businessmen who'd not paid up, sometimes the new boyfriend of an ex of a high profile gang member, sometimes another courier who wasn't packing. He never got involved with a job where he could see a gun, though. One sight of a pistol - hell, even a knife - and Nuke would be running. He didn't like that kind of problem. But basically, he'd turned into a small time crook. A lackey-for-hire. Never tied to a gang, though. He'd thought about it but he didn't have the nerves. And after he finally did build up the nerves, the gangs had already decided he was gutless. No good. He resented that, felt he was being underrated, but so be it. At least they showed him respect when they met. He hated the Elite Police for all they were worth. They never really got close to him, though. He was one of a hundred guys who were doing similar jobs. His guns were provided by gangs and he knew a guy who could melt them down for him if he ever had to use them.
But yeah, things were good for him. He had been paid decently for the handful of kills he'd been involved with. But work was running thin lately. Cops were going in heavy, gangs were too. People were dropping dead everywhere and he was scared. Only a few of his clients remained, and only a couple of them were big-time. Last time I checked. Nuke thought to himself, considering how few recent requests he'd got from people he used to be in regular touch with. Might all be dead by now. Heh. He had to pick his jobs carefully to avoid crossing the wrong people and had resorted to mere petty crime of late. Finally, though, a reasonable note came in. A no-nonsense job, sending a notable amount of cash to a cop who had helped tip Rantzien off about a raid earlier in the week. He'd paid this copper before and he knew he was pretty safe. An old guy, almost retired but just wanting a bit of cash for his family before he went out. Smart move, really - nobody suspected an old guy with a good record of being crooked. Anyway. Nuke took the job.
--//--
"WHAT THE smurf!?" Nuke near shat himself. He hid behind the desk. Deja vu.
It was Snake. Oh, god, he didn't know it, but he felt it. It was smurfing Snake. He'd heard about the guy - they all had. This guy had to be him. It certainly wasn't a cop. Hell, maybe it was. This place was so smurfed up, Nuke couldn't be certain of anything anymore. Either way, if what he'd heard about Snake was true, he may as well have been invincible and invisible. This guy cleaned up half the town whenever things got out of control. As if he owned the entire god damned city.
Calm, slow footsteps moved around the desk as Nuke shivered, reaching for his gun, but then thinking better of it.
"I assume you've heard of me?" came the first words of the strange man. A strange voice, too. Not normal. Creepy, but not obviously so. Just twisted enough to send a chill down your spine, but not so smurfed up that his clearly spoken words didn't carry an air of authority.
"S... sss..."
Snake rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, yes. Anyway. Don't worry, you'll be fine. I just want to know a bit of information..."
--//--
Snake got everything he needed. Everything. He sniffed at the whole idea of the Elite Police, always going after the top ten or so guys in a gang when if they just focused on a bit of investigation, they could get anything out of the right man. Spending all their time on heavily armed raids and trying to get 'arrangements' with one gang against another... they weren't Elite Police, they were just the EoFF City Special Forces. They were good, but at army jobs, not policing. Hell, nobody was good at policing in EoFF City. Snake smiled as he got the final details. Except me, I guess.
"Take me to him." Snake said, and got up.
"Are you smurfing cra--" Suddenly, the long end of a gun Nuke had never seen before appeared in front of his eyes. Lightly grazing the skin between his eyes, the cool metal made Nuke re-think his response. He breathed heavily, collecting himself. "Look, I don't even know where the hell he --" BLAM! Gunshot. And again. Blood covered Snake's arm, and the queer man turned away from Nuke, dropping his weapon. A new voice resounded throughout the room.
--//--
"Good man, Nuke. Get out of here." Rantzien walked into the small office, threw a pistol to the side and pulled a rifle which he'd strapped to his other arm. Snake ducked, but there was only air between them. A cracking shot burst through the air and Snake howled as a bullet drilled into his shoulder. "Just seems like if you want to get rid of a snake around here, you have to do it yourself." he growled, targeting Snake's legs. Bang. Bang. Bang. Rantzien followed the shots up with a swift kick to the head of Snake, who spat blood across the floor. He turned his head to face Rantzien, muttering.
"You'll never run this city," he spat, "just you --" another kick to the head.
"Shut up. I already do. Bandits run..." Rantzien stopped himself, cursing the loss of his last trusted men. "I run everything now. You are no longer required in EoFF City."
"smurf you. You'll die. You'll get what's coming to you. Just like all the others did."
Rantzien took a moment to laugh at Snake. "Yes, they're all gone. And I sincerely thank you for that. Goodbye."
Bang.
--//--
Nuke sat there, stunned. Just a moment ago, there was a gun in his face. And now, Rantzien stood above Snake's body, not even a scratch on him. Nuke didn't know how. By all accounts, it doesn't make sense. But there he was. He'd got him. Snake was on the way out, but he spoke those words. "Just like all the others did." And Nuke's earlier thoughts were confirmed. His clients were dead. Only Rantzien remained. With Snake gone, there was nobody to fear anymore. Rantzien was King of EoFF City. He ran everything. Nobody could stop him.
Nobody else at all.
The thought ran through Nuke's head as Rantzien casually pointed his gun at Snake's head. "Yes, they're all gone."
Nuke's nerves ran through him like crazy. And then, as long before, he collected his thoughts.
This is your time to move up in the world.
Calm. Steeled.
"And I sincerely thank you for that."
Nuke grabbed Snake's gun.
"Goodbye."
Bang.
Rantzien glanced at Nuke. "Wha--"
Time to move up in the world.
Bang.
--//--