Twi219

Megaman - Friday, March 17, 2000, 1:42 AM
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Namura General Hospital
The smell of disinfectant is strong here, which while a good thing, still isn't very pleasant. The well-lit corridors are relatively quiet as doctors and nurses rush to and fro. Orderlies carry dinners and bedpans around, though not at the same time, and you think you catch a glimpse of George Clooney in a white coat... nahh.

Michael Eildath says, "I imagine it would be pretty much the same, with humans dying in our little wars and fueds. Instead of the Mavericks, you'd have some human army, instead of the Robot Masters, a mad scientist and his biological monstrosities." Mike stands up. "You see this? I'm a Maverick Hunter, and I'm sure as hell not a robot, Bradley. I fight for peace, /with/ these robots were sharing the world with." He shakes his head. "I don't know what happened to you in San Angeles, but my entire family was killed... and I'm not blaming robot-kind for it."

Bradley Williams blinks and bites down his lips hard. "Your family was killed?" His eyes swivel around the room looking for something that wasn't there. The gaze returns to rest on Michael, a look of disbelief on Bradley's expression. "Well la ti da! A lot of us lost our families in that incident, you think you had it rough? You think you had to go through things the hard way? You have -no- idea how good you got it. After San Angeles, you went home with your rich *** granny's and got yourself some smart education over at some preppy school. And all that time you kept on brooding in self pity, feeling so bad. Oh boo hoo, mommy an daddy are taking a dirt nap. Screw you! Mah family got slaughtered there too, cept I grew up in a different fashion mind you. I grew up on the streets. I learned everything there, not from some fancy classroom. I dint have no granny's or relatives to take care of me. There was only one person I could trust me...me! You do NOT know what it's like to go through the things that -I- have gone through. They are the source of my pain...they killed my family and the life I could have had and you dare stamd there and defend them!?" His eyes burn with pure hatred, nothing but bitter anger. "**** you."

Michael Eildath scowls even deeper. "Listen, I don't know where you heard the fairy-tale version of Mike Eildath's life, from your hacker or what, but my life /ended/ that day. I lost everything, I had to go live with a family I barely knew, and got to graduate high school with the knowledge that all my best friends were dead." He sits down hard. "So don't go feeling high and mighty because you had a hard life... we all lost things, and your family was no closer to you than I was to mine."

Twila Peterson slows her pace as she wanders through the hospital hallway, coming back from checking in on Dr. Cain to see how he's fairing. As expected, he's resting at the moment. And Twila can only hope that it's peaceful. As she walks by a certain room in particular she overhears voices, however, that are anything *but*. Recognizing the first as one of the few human Hunters she tilts her head to the side and approaches the doorway to peek in. The backlash spouted by the patient causes her to freeze and blink. Can someone say...tense?

Twila Peterson then overhears Michael's response, of course, and takes a step back into the hallway. Sounds...rather heated in here for some reason.

Bradley Williams sighs and blinks, noticing a pretty attractive woman over by the doorway. "Helloooo...what have we here?" He makes a kissy face and smiles. "Hey babe." His glance goes to the corner of the eye, back to Michael. "You know her?"

Michael Eildath spins. "Twila? What're you doing here?"

So much for leaving unnoticed. Twila pauses within her step, tossing the patient a blank look. "I was...just making sure Dr. Cain was fairing alright when I heard your voice, Mike...and his." Her and...perhaps about half the hospital between him and Bradley. "Certainly didn't mean to interrupt."

Michael Eildath nods. "That's okay... I'm just chattin' it up with 'Bradley' here... loads o' fun."

Twila Peterson muses softly, not knowing if one or either could hear, "So...I've heard."

Bradley Williams arches both eyebrows up while a smile cuts across his usually grim face. "So what's a hot chick like you know a loser like him?"

Eclipse pages: Hot chick indeed...if Rick were here.... :)
Long distance to Eclipse: Twila Peterson LOL. Protectie big bro to the hilt...

Twila Peterson crosses her arms in front of her chest, peering at this...patient. "Well, since I don't see no loser I can't very well answer your question can I?"

Michael Eildath doesn't smile... but his countenance brightens. "Why can't you try a little civility, Bradley??"

Bradley Williams looks around. "Well...your the chick, and I sure as heck ain't the loser, so that leaves Mikey here. Quiet pig, can't you see I'm busy." His glance falls back at Twila. "Soo..."

Michael Eildath rolls his eyes. "That's /former/ pig, kid."

Twila Peterson hmphs as her brow furrows. "With an attitude like *that* I beg to differ. Michael just happens to be a friend of mine. And..." At this she glances towards the hallway. "...I have a name. Miss Peterson. I suggest you either use that and refrain from calling me 'chick' or 'babe' or I'll get one of the nurses to give you a nice injection of sedatives. Understood?"

[OOC] Michael Eildath woos!
[OOC] Eclipse ruffles Twila's hair.
[OOC] Twila Peterson says, "Well...hey...the creeps hittin' on me... ;)"
[OOC] Michael Eildath says, "Want I should kill him?"
[OOC] Twila Peterson is sure Rick would appreciate it

Bradley Williams whistles and chuckles, "Oh mama, you a feisty one."

Twila Peterson glances towards the ceiling briefly before sighing. "Add 'Mama' to the list." She then offers a smirk in thought. "I'm a redhead aren't I?" She then looks over towards Mike. "I...take it this is the one who...started the riot the other day."

Michael Eildath nods. "Yeah... he'll deny to the ends of the earth, though." He ponders. "He's a talkative one... rather violent, too, even if he hasn't done anything overtly violent today."

Bradley Williams raises a finger up. "I did -not- start anything. I was there for a peaceful demonstration and was not involved in any of the violence. As you can see I was the victim of the chaos!"

Michael Eildath says, "Yeah, okay... but you sure ran awfully fast for not starting anything."

Twila Peterson continues smirking. "Talking? Maybe but him and Feedback in the same room...see who survives..." She then gives pause as Bradley protests. "And...I suppose the news feed and the tapings were all...misleading."

Bradley Williams shakes his head while waving his hands around in front of him. "I'm being setup I tell you, by the government. The system wants me out of the game, they know I'm a danger to their system. They want me out of the picture, I'm interfering with their plans too much. You're all jus playing into their lies... you've become their puppets. The media is nothing but a parasitic organization bent on spreading the ideas of those aristocrats and influencing the minds of independent thinkers."

Michael Eildath blinks. "But how can they be setting you up if you've erased your own history?" He leans back in his chair, smiling.

Twila Peterson makes her own input. "Uh, huh. Confusing that the Hunters don'ntt even have ties to any government isn't it?" She keeps her arms crossed while glancing briefly towards Michael again, wondering if this Bradley is really "for real"

Michael Eildath nods.

Bradley Williams says, "But you see...my nebulous identity is the only defense I have. Switching around keeps me a step ahead of them. They don't know me, they have nothing on me. In the psychological warfare, information is ammunition. Hunters and Pigs ar just one and the same to me, you enforce the laws of the government..." His face turns bitter, "And you would cooperate with...them.""

Michael Eildath says, "Of course I do. I owe the Hunters my life... several times over."

Twila Peterson blinks towards Bradley while offering a nod towards the Hunter. "As do I. Besides...the Hunters know the UN doesn't always stand by what's right. That's why they're allies...but unaffiliated with them. Hunters work on their own terms...just trying to do what's right and help out in whatever way they can."

Bradley Williams raises a skeptic eyebrow over towards Twila and merely ignores all their claims, knowing that anything enforcing their beliefs of order on others could not be all that good. "Riiiight... you wouldn't happen to have a cigarette on ya?"

Michael Eildath shakes his head. "I don't smoke."

There is a shake of the head from Twila. "Neither do I. Besides, can't smoke in hospitals anyway. There are patients on oxegan here."

Bradley Williams fehs. "Rules rules, besides they aint gonna be smokin it, I will." He removes his legs from out of the blanket and swings them to the side of the bed, letting them dangle for a while. As his feet touch the cold floor his eyes squint. Struggling to balance, he makes his way over to the door. "Move it, I gotta take a ****."

Michael Eildath does so, frowning at Bradley's crude language. He walks over to Twila. "Colorful fellow..."

Twila Peterson rolls her eyes openly, and secretly wishes the floor in *very* cold for the man's bare feet. "So you noticed. Always liked how observant you were," she states, instantly regretting of how that must have sounded to Mike. "Um...sorry," she states somewhat sheepishly before lowering her voice.

You whisper 'You alright? I heard a bit what was said from down the hall.' to Michael Eildath.

Michael Eildath rolls his eyes in real exasperation, leaning down to whisper himself.
Michael Eildath whispers: 'I'm fine...he's just got a way of getting under my skin... whoever he is.'.

Bradley Williams disappears down the hallway, pushing some elderly old man out of the way to get into the lavatory first. Just as soon as the patient disappears, the doctor returns, striding down the corridor very quickly. Her eyes fall on Twila, before her attention focuses on Mike. "Ummm...umm, the results are umm...back." She blinks looking at the papers in her hand with disbelief.

Michael Eildath turns to Twila to briefly explain. "They were doing a blood analysis to see if they can match him up with this big database of theirs." He turns back. "Well, who is he then?"

Twila Peterson is about to respond when the physician enters the room. She stays silent except for a nod of the chin towards her friend.

The doctor licks her lips and nervously fumbles over her own words, "Well you see...there was...umm, funny thing." she smiles and her hands are trembling very nervously. "Must be error or something...I mean, you know...It's not possible." She bites down on her bottom lips, not making sense. "Well we did it twice, the same every time. And umm...apparently he shares some DNA with a family alright." The eyes look down to the floor, "Yours Mike."

Twila's eyes become huge orbs as she looks from doctor towards...the Hunter...in shock.

Michael Eildath blinks. Pause. Blink. "He's family?" Blink again. Mike just stands there, looking vaguely uneasy, one hand going to a doorpost to stabilize him. "How... closely..." Mike teeters. "Bradley?"

Her heart pounds, each word barely slipping out. "Didn't that name belong to your younger...umm..sibling?"

Twila Peterson places a hand on his arm if only to help steady him, hoping his legs don't give way from underneath. "Er...a brother...?"

Michael Eildath just reels, looking at the doctor for anything further... unsure if he can take what he thinks he's about to hear.

The medic looks around the hallway, unable to face Mike's expression. "Well...I guess, we can sorta put two and two on this one. There is a high possibility that he could be your...ummm...yah."

Twila Peterson is silent for a few moments, not knowing what to say except, "At least...they aren't...twins..."

Michael Eildath's mind races. . o O (But he died in... but this guy came from... they're about the same age... Closed casket... how... how?) He turns to Twila, and smiles wanly. "Yeah... you-you've got a point there." Mike steadies himself for... all of a second... then pitches forward, vision blurring double, then triple, then to black.

A burst of excitement comes down from the hallway, a nurse comes running to those gathered...behind her a ruckus of other medical employees surrounding the bathroom door. In her hand is a small piece of paper, a napkin. Something scribbled and written on it with vague graphite. Her eyes look over to Michael, "Are you Mister Eildath?"

Twila Peterson yelps quite audibly as a *thump* is heard as Mike's body nicely meets with Mr. Floor. "Mike?" she calls out as she tries to prevent his fall. Unsuccessful she kneels down beside him and attempts to turn him over before gently shaking him by the shoulders. "Hey, I'm the one who has the corner marketed on this."

The nurse looks down at the man on the floor. "Was that Mister Eildath?"

Twila Peterson glances up at the nurse. "Yes. Michael Eildath. Hey, have anything that'll help wake him up? He's had quite a big shock."

Michael Eildath's eyes are rolled back, and he looks... well, ill. He just lies there, making very little sign that he is still alive, save for the breathing, which is still ragged and irregular, as though he were having a nightmare.
She hands hands the paper. "We found it along with the patients hospital gown in the bathroom. Nothing was there, he seems to have...vanished. I think he left this for him." The doctor looks at the nurse blankly, this day was just full of surprises.

Twila Peterson takes the paper but doesn't read over it. Instead, she sticks it within her jacket pocket to be given to Mike when it's more convenient. "Just get something that will help wake him up," Twila instructs. Something with a bad, but harmless, aroma. I don't care...just get it."

Twila Peterson frowns and turns back to Mike, deciding not to wait. She positions her fingers underneath Michael left and right ears and applies gentle but firm pressure, casuing a dull pain. This won't really physically cause harm. But it should be enough to awaken some of his senses. Meanwhile, the doctor and the nurse leave to find what it is they usually use in cases such as this. "C'me on, Mike. I would think the floor's a bit too hard for this..."

Michael Eildath blinks, groaning as he slowly returns to consciousness... he did take quite a blow when he fell, in addition to the mental shock. "...Mom?" he questions groggily, eyes rapidly clearing. "No... Twila?" He blinks. "Twila? What happened?"

Twila Peterson breaths a sigh of relief as she relieved the pressure. "Uh...would you believe...you fainted?"

Michael Eildath closes his eyes, his head already throbbing. "Yeah... yeah... I would." He blinks, suddenly remembering what just happened. "Twila... p-please tell me that was a nightmare..."

Twila wishes that she could. But, honesty prevents her. "Her...let me help you sit up," she offers gently, providing herself as a support if need be.
Michael Eildath accepts the help, since he feels like he can barely move. Once up, he looks around with still-blurry vision. "This... this is the hospital, right?" He looks down, frowning. "It... it wasn't a dream... was it?"

Twila Peterson does her best to aid in keeping him steady if possible. "No...I'm afraid it wasn't."

Michael Eildath closes his eyes, just sitting there for a long moment, tears beginning to roll down the Hunter's face. "But... but Bradley died... he got killed thirteen years ago..." Mike continues, though it's hard to hear him as he talks through his tears. "There was a funeral... they told me they were all gone... I... I..." Mike falls silent again, no longer knowing what to say.

Twila Peterson keeps an arm at his back to simply keep him steady. Another arm rests gently upon his shoulder. "Easy, Mike. This would be hard for anyone to digest."

Michael Eildath just sits there, still crying silently. "How... how could something like this happen? They told me Brad was dead... How could I have missed him? Thirteen years... and I never found out..." He shudders, body wracked with anguish.

The girl's features soften as she continues to watch Mike. Slowly, her hand moves from his shoulder and on into an embrace...providing the Hunter would accept it. However, as of now, Michael does look as if he needs on rather badly about not. "I don't know. Stranger things have happened...haven't they?"

Michael Eildath doesn't object, at least in this situation. "I... I... I dunno..." He lowers his head. "I can't deal with this...my head keeps spinning..." Closing his eyes again, he sighs. "I need to lie down..."

[OOC] Michael Eildath does not handle stress well.
[OOC] Twila Peterson notes this... ;)

Twila Peterson holds him for a few moments longer before deeping her chin. "There's a bed in here. I'll...talk with the doctor to see if you can stay until you're a little more...stable." So saying she pulls way and starts to stand while offering Michael a hand up, again fully preparing to act as a support when needed. "Here, it's only a few steps. Ready?"

Michael Eildath nods, and rises... very slowly and unsteadily. "T-Thanks Twila," he says shakily, concentrating on the simple act of moving. Thankfully, he doesn't fall, making it to the bed with only a minimum of fuss. Mike immediately begins to drift, almost passing out again. "T... tell the guys at base I'll... be back in the morning...." His head falls to the pillow, Mike surrendering to his need for unconsciousness.

Twila nods quietly before at least removing Mike's shoes from his feet, and then covering him up with the blanket. "I'll do that," she notes, more to herself now that Mike is more than likely beyond hearing now. She fully intends on staying near the hospital to make certain he's alright. After getting him settled, and making arrangements with the staff, she heads outside for a small breather.

Nogaki Commercial District - Neo Tokyo
Although this part of the city is the largest and busiest at any given time, the lack of any real streets gives the impression of being quiet. Due to the sheer enormity of Neo Tokyo's population and consumer demands, the city's planners decided to build not only out, but up... and down. The Nogaki commercial district extends for miles in all directions, with public lifts capable of transporting thousands of people per second.
On this level are the mostly normal, everday businesses such as grocery stores, mega-department stores, and everything in between. The eastern hemisphere's largest McDonald's takes up a large portion of space here, having served over 11 times 10 to the 20th power burgers since its company's creation back in the 20th Century.

Twila Peterson steps outside the hospital, walking out into the night air for a breath of air.

Rick Morgan is ironically enough, not too far from the hospital, and he's indulging in one of those things that you usually only get in Japan. And that would be a box of deep fried shrimp, much like you get french fries from a frywagon, complete with a set of chopsticks that he's using to pop the little critters into his mouth one by one like popcorn, chewing thoughtfully. Hey he may be American through and through...but he'll certainly partake of the food of the locals when he calls this place his home. Although the deep fried shrimp is extremely tasty, the texture definitely makes it rather...gassy. Urp!

Not to mention, to the male stomach, food is food -- especially when hungry. Twila wanders a few more steps before she stops at the sound of someone letting out some air of his own. She tosses a glance his way, very surprised to see that it happens to be non-other than... "Rick?"

Rick Morgan raises the back of his hand to wipe at his mouth carefully after that. Though it doesn't stop him from shoveling in another mouthful in the next few seconds. It's then that he hears his name called, by a very familiar voice, and he blinks as he glances over to the source.

"Twifle!? Whfrm yfrm dofring herf?" The words come with a rather generous spurt of food, before Rick remembers to finish chewing and swallowing, -then- try again.

"Twila? What are you doing here?"

Twila Peterson squints and has to fight very hard from rolling her eyes. Sheesh. Her brother and food. But then, as far as she can tell, it may be all males. Perhaps human and repliod. Rock did his own share of convincing ehr of that. "I was trying to see how Dr. Cain was when I came across Michael asking questions from the rioter from a few days ago. Um...in short, Michael just learned some news and isn't handling it that well."

Rick Morgan blinks at that, chewing on another mouthful of shrimp, swallowing it down as well before speaking. "What's wrong?" he asks. "What happened to Mike?" Considering he was just talking to him not all that long ago....Rick has to wonder. Though of course, the chopsticks go in and take another pair of shrimp, which soon disappear into Rick's mouth.

Twila Peterson briefly glances back towards the hospital doors with a sigh. "Let's say...he's not handling stress that well right now." After a pause... "I don't feel right talking about it really since Mike should be the one to discuss it...or at not without his permission. Would...you let the others know at base that he'll be back in the morning?"

Rick Morgan swallows once again, and upends his box, which is now empty. Soon both it and the chopsticks are sent hurtling to the nearest garbage can, which is one of those little automated jobbies. In fact, the trash -would- have missed, if the little robot didn't suddenly dart forward and swallow upt he refuse. Meanwhile, Rick wipes his hands off, and arches an eyebrow towards Twila. "Well...yeah sure I could. I hope it's nothin serious..." he offers. "What about you?"

Twila Peterson answers slowly, "I'll...probably be staying here...just to be sure he'll be OK. So...guess that'll go for me too."

Rick Morgan hrms at that. "You uh...want me to watch Kyo for the night then?" he asks, stepping closer and away from the robot trash can, that's gibbering away and shaking it's little 'fist' at Rick for almost littering. "Since you won't be back tonight..."

Twila dips her chin. "If...you wouldn't mind. I'm sure she'll be fine. But I still worry." Unexpectantly she then sneaks in a hug. "I better go back inside tho. You...take care of yourself, alright?"

Rick Morgan blinks in surprise, though he really shouldn't have been caught off guard. His arms snake around Twila and hold her close, as he chuckles and pats her back gently. "I will. I'll see you tomorrow then, and I'll take good care of Kyo OK?" he offers.

"Couldn't ask for anything more. Thanks, Bro," she smiles. Before pulling completely away she kisses Rick's cheek. Releasing her hold she then starts off back towards the entrance. "Take care, Rick. And Behave yourself."

Rick Morgan smirks mischievously then, and raises his in a small wave as Twila moves off. "Oh I will. You know -me-."

Command Center <Hunter HQ>

Michael Eildath is sitting off by himself in a corner, silent and glum-looking as he ponders things.

After the grav lift has opened, Twila steps on through into the command center. She walks over towards a terminal to check on something or other when something, or rather someone, catches her eye. She turns more fully around and proceeds on over towards the Hunter. "Mike, how are you holding?"

Michael Eildath looks up. "Oh... hiya, Twila..." He doesn't sound good, at the very least. "I've been better."

If it's one thing that can be said for Mike...he certainly doesn't handle stress very well. But then, who always does. "I won't mince words. You've looked better." She tilts her head to the side. "I have the feeling it would be pointless to ask what was weighing heavily on you."

Michael Eildath smirks half-heatedly. "Your feeling would be right." He sighs. "I just can't make myself believe it... Bradley's s'posed to be dead." He hangs his head. "My whole world's twisted around right now."

"I...wish I knew what to say..." Twila says quietly. She frowns at herself as a hand moves to the back pocket of her jeans. "A few nights ago...when we were at the hospital...one of the nurses gave me a note from him. I...haven't looked at it since it was for you. Anyway..." Her hand draws out the napkin slowly. "You...promise not to faint?"

Michael Eildath looks up. "I think my fainting spell is over."

Twila Peterson nods gently and offers him the crude stationary. "Just wanted to be sure..."

The notes reads: "Dear Mikey, I knew one day you'd find out bout me. Twas inevitable, didnt feel like wearin something that would show my *** when the wind blew so I cut out. I might contact you later...maybe. - Brad"

Michael Eildath takes the paper reads it, tears coming to his eyes. "He... kept away from me on purpose." It's not a question, it's a realization. Scanning over the paper again, he lets it drop to the ground as he closes his eyes.

Twila Peterson's gaze idly trails the discarded napkin as it flutters towards the floor before looking towards him again. "He...knew?" she asks haltingly. Even if his brother may have disapproved of his career choice, still...not letting your own flesh and blood know he was alive---? She hates to think of the implications from that. "I'm sorry..."

Michael Eildath just sits there, silent for a moment. "I don't know what to do... I've lived for thirteen years with the knowledge that Bradley was dead... when Fire Man's bots tore our house apart, everyone but me and Dad were killed... and Dad died a week later." He hits the ground with a clenched fist. "That's what they told me... for thirteen years... and now he's alive again."

Twila lowers herself to the floor to kneel beside him. After pausing for a moment she states. "I'm not certain there's anything your brother can say that would justify him not attempting to contact you sooner." 13 yrs? He waited 13 yrs?

Michael Eildath shrugs. "I don't know... and I don't know what I can do now. I know he's alive... but he's the complete opposite of everything I remember. And I don't even know how to get in touch with him."

Twila Peterson presses her lips together. "I...don't know either. Maybe all you can do at the moment is...be grateful he is alive, and trust he'll re-open contact when he feels he's ready for it."

It may be a bit cliched but, and Twila apologizes for it being so, "Take it...one day at a time?" She releases a breath and comments, "When you think on it...not too many things in life really do make a lot of sense."
Michael Eildath shakes his head. "No... they don't." He smiles. "Mirage tried to get me to put it in perspective, earlier... I suppose I'll hafta... sure doesn't make it easier on me." He smiles. "One day at a time... sounds like a song title." He thinks for a moment. "Oh yeah, I think it is..."

Michael Eildath nods. "I just wish... I just wish I knew how to sort all of this out." He sighs again, deeply, and leans his head back against the wall. "Nothing makes sense anymore."

Twila is forced to smile at that as well. "Don't...believe I ever heard of it..."

Michael Eildath shakes his head. "Curse this musical knowledge of mine... that song's got to be at least 200 years old... still, I'll have to find it now..."

The girl slightly rolls her eyes at the thought. "Why not check the juke boc in the Rec Room? May even have the song...considering what Roll keeps on that thing."

Michael Eildath hehs. "Maybe... but I doubt it. There's a good chance I'll have it, somewhere... I've got a couple of thousand songs on file."

Twila Peterson perks an eyebrow, at that. "Well, even if you don't...you'll be able to locate it somewhere. If not here...than somewhere on the 'information highway' more than likely." Considering all that's found on the Net this day and age. "You...going to be alright, Michael?"

Michael Eildath blinks. "Yeah... /eventually/." He pauses, and his speech falters a bit, "I know I can weather this... I should be happy, even if he is a jerk. It just hurts... and I have to deal with that alone... like I've always done, I guess."

"Perhaps," Twila muses. "Just remember that you have friends who care about you here. And, you're not always as alone as you may think."

Michael Eildath nods. "I'm getting to know that..." He smiles. "It's a long time adjusting to my knowing it, though."

Twila Peterson reaches out to rest her hand on the man's shoulder and offers a gentle squeeze before pulling back. "Adjusting is never easy for anyone."

Michael Eildath nods, and leans back. "Yeah." He still looks not-well, but he's smiling a bit, and I suppose that's an improvement.

An improvement...as well as a tiny start. Twila overlooks the man again, this time with her medic's eye. "Maybe it would help if you got yourself some rest."

<Soon...>

Neo-Tokeyo - Harbor District

The thick chest of the behemoth tenses visibly before relaxing with an audible *THUD*. The thick haul of the monstrous pecs seeming to occur like a tidal wave of flesh and hauling upward past the height of Neil's head before relaxing and sliding downward once again with an impact akin to a set of basketballs bouncing up and down. The shirt straining to contain the massiveness fo the impossibly huge body of this behemoth. Slowly Rungo merely tilts his head downward to eye Neil. Slowly Rungo reaches upwards to grab his shades and he pulls them off. Nostrils flaring like the nostrils of a titanic bull. A hot burst of steam escaping them and spraying lazily into the air.

And then he speaks. Demonically and freakishly deep voice seeming to thud with the impact of a bass steroe on maximum. "I am here for the protection fee.... You are three payments behind.. Do you know what I am talking about?" He slowly clasps his huge shades in his hands and then pockets them into the left pocket of the hopelessly small jacket he wears. He then lowers his monsterous hand and simply looks down at Neil. Waiting patiently. His presence and calm demeanor should say enough.

Neil's pale features pale that much more. As far as size goes, he's not very big to begin with, being loosely termed as 'skinny' in fact. And next to Rungo's enormous size, it's that much more noticable, as he's pretty much little more than a midget in the presence of the other figure.

. o O(Oh crap....)

"Oh...-that- fee." He starts, raising a hand to rub at the back of his head slowly. "Uh...yeah. I got it...er, that is to say I -will- have it y'know." his hands then shoot up, defensive and palms out. "B..but real soon I mean! Like as in tomorrow night! I got this job with a couple guys out in San Angeles y'see, they're late on their shipment. Got caught in a storm and all. Funny how these things happen huh....?"

Sweat beads on the rigger's forehead, and slowly rolls down his face, as he continues to stare at Rungo as he speaks. Well, at least his own visor shades manage to hide just how -wide- his eyes are right about now.

Perhaps the most frightening aspect of this encounter is the fact that Rungo's expression DOESN'T change. It remain's in place. Stoic, unemotional. Cool and calm. He simply looks at Neil before finally his massive voice once more intones outward, "You realize..Mr. Neil..that if you do not pay then..I cannot continue to protect you like I have these past months.. Do you know what happens when you don't have protection?" As he speaks he slowly raises his monsterous hands upward and clasps one over the other. The impact of the meaty coarse hands a loud dull *poom* followed by LOUD *CRACKS* and *POPS* as the behemoth cracks his knuckles once more. Louder then before. So loud it sounds like gigantic firecrackers going off. "Without protection you can get hurt.. But you have to pay for protection.. And one way or another..you will pay."

The muscles on his gigantic arms seem to tense and then grow slowly as they flex and pump up larger. His massive chest presses out massivly against his shirt and the seams and stitches on his jacket begin to slowly unravel and rip apart. The movements of the giants tidal wave, earthquake like body beginning to become to much even for his garments. "I hope we..understand each other..Neil.." rumbles his deep and slow voice.. And then he takes a step forward..and then another step. His intentions probably all to clear.
Screen> To say that in the face of an angry bull, Neil takes on the features of a scared mouse is an understatement. A squawk of alarm raises from his throat, as he stumbles back a step, trying to stammer out an explanation, yet managing little else other than gibberish for the moment. As fate would have it, his steps carry him back just enough to bump into a trash can, which is just low enough to cause him to pitch over backwards. A calmourous clatter goes up through the street, as the rigger collapses onto his back in a spray of garbage...and rats that squeak in alarm and anger at being disturbed, then quickly scattering away.

From down the street, inside the restaurant, Rick has just put the money on the counter for the old man, and is already munching on the first of his snack when he perks up, hearing the clamor outside. His eyes narrow ever so slightly...

Neil begins scrambling backwards then, trying to get -away- from the advancing form, raising his hands over his head protectively. "W.w...w..wait! G.give a guy a break would ya? C'mon! I only just got here not that long ago! You know how much that old coot at the warehouse -charges- me? He's the real thief! I gotta get a job like this done if I'm gonna pay! It's touch and go!"

Slowly the titanic hand of Rungo begins to descend even as the monstrosity steps forward. No emotion on his features. No anger, no sadness, no regret. Nothing. He might as well be just..driving a car or..taking a drink of water. He doesn't hestitate. Unrelenting, unstoppable and brutish. He even refrains from emitting any snappy banter or stating anything that could be taken for a oneliner. He doesn't say a word. His eyes are cool and reserved and his expression the bored expression of indifference. To Rungo it is simply a case of..gotta do what you gotta do.

A hand big enough to palm a bowling ball begins to lower and then it reaches for Neil's legs. Attempting to grab him by the ankles. /Both/ ankles at the same time for indeed..Rungo is THAT gigantic for a human. The giant emits a dull 'Lurch' like rumble. Probably would do good on the set of the Addamns Family. He then attempts to literally lift Neil upward by the legs, providing he was able to grab him. At the same time his other monstrous hand raises upward, intending on reaching for Neil's legs as well. The brutishness of Rungo is about to be made all to clear in just a few moments.

"Ack!" Neil squawks, as his ankles are both grabbed in that gigantic hand, and like a chicken ready for the slaughterhouse, he's hoisted up as if he weight little more than a feather. His visor shades slip off of his face, and crunch onto the pavement below, bouncing away and ironically right against one of Rungo's giant boots. Even as he feels that other hand reaching for his other leg, Neil gets the impression that -something- is about to happen...and it's going to be excrutiatingly painful. He flails about for a few seconds, but soon finds it rather apparent that he isn't going anywhere fast. Paralysed with a mixture of fear and despair, he proceeds to clamp his hands over his eyes, wailing now. "Oh geez! For the love of....not the legs! Anything but the legs! I got stuff I can hock for ya! You want my jacket! It's pure old-style leather! C'mon! Please! Cut me some slack man! How was I supposed to know the Yaks were gonna come so soon!? You don't advertize! Somebody HELP MEEEEEEE!"

Unfortunately, at this moment, help is not forthcoming from the locals, as at the sight of trouble starting up, they knew well enough to stay in their domiciles and close their ears to the victims shouts. It dosen't pay to interfere with the Yakuza and their...business afterall.

And still Rungo says nothing. He's actually looking straight ahead. Watching the store across the street oddly enough.. as if watching and waiting for something. For a few seconds he dangles poor Neil there.. As if simply letting him wait and letting the seriousness of this situation sink into him. His weight .. little more then that of a doll in Rungo's monsterous hands. The giant weighs 600 lbs.. Heaven only knows how much weight he can lift and if folk actually knew just how powerful he was. Reploid and human alike would be sure to tread carefully around him. Rungo Naaza..is a monstrosity for a human. A true Hulk..and even the metallic forces of reploidom must be careful save they be true military bots and even then a slight misstep can mean disaster. Such is the scope of this behemoth that weighs more then a quarter of a ton.

Eventually his other hand raises and also grasps hold of the ankle of Neil. His other hand switches to holding the other ankle and the giant speaks for the first time. Rumbling dully with the thud of his tone. "This will..sting a little.." His tone lazy and dull. No smirk on his expression though his eyes seem to hide some shaded glee at the exertation of strength he is about to do. He then begins to slowly move Neil's legs to the side. Imagine a wishbone..with the two extending bones being Neil's legs. Then imagine what people do to wishbones..

Rungo's arms continue to move.. Bringing Neil's legs outward as wide as they normally go. Moving deliberatly slowly while holding Neil upside down.. Slowly more strength begins to get exerted.. Then a little bit more..then a little bit more.. Then a little bit more...

Twila Peterson is, ironically as well as unknowingly, within the same small restaurant the same as her brother. Her attention had been drawn away from where she otherwise would have noted Rick's presence as she conversed with the kindly old Japanese man who co-owned the eating establishment with his wife. He seemed to notice the young woman had taken a liking to a special blend of oriental tea and offered her some samplings to try at her lesiure...for a small price of course. Thinking she may have found an alternative to attending the 'coffee shop' within another part of town, Twila agrees to try it. Before she can thank him some sort of noice is heard from outside. Normally it may not even be noticed. However, by the way some of the patrons as well as the old man himself react Twila gains the feeling something's not right. "Hmmmm---?"

Mr. Yin-Lee raises a hand and then lowers it. "Strays," he explains simply as he shambles away towards other customers.

"Odd," Twila notes as she places the tea within her purse. She trails the older man for a moment before heading towards the door...

Eyes widen like a couple of saucers then on Neil's face, actually able to be seen through his hands as he tries to cover his features up. But right now, he raises his hands as he feels his own legs being moved to the sides, and finally clues in to just -what- is happening. "Oh man no! Oh geez not like this! Anything but THIS!! Ahgh!" His mouth then gapes wide, and he throws his head back, as the first of the strain in his tendons and muscles begins to finally take hold. To be truthful, he could have put up about as much resistance to Rungo's efforts as a toothpick would to a 20 pound sledgehammer. If the Yakuza enforcer had so chosen to snap him that quickly. But this is far worse, and even then, the creaking of cartilidge within his hips turns then to an excruciatingly painful groan. "AHGH!" Neil's teeth clench then, as he tries to steel himself for the inevitable that's to come, though already he can tell there's been damage done....possibly irreversible.

*K'KLIK!*

It's a sound barely heard usually above the din of the city, but right now, the street is almost dead quiet, and even to those who've never heard it before, there's almost an instinct that tells you just what it is. The hammer of a revolver locking into place.

Standing just down the sidewalk, somewhat behind Rungo, Rick is straight backed, and turned to the side ever so slightly. In his hand, his revolver sits, nestled easily in place, and leveled at the giant of a man in front of him.

"Y'know..." Rick starts, keeping his face strategically neutral the whole time. "I kinda got a problem with people who mistake my chums for a turkey bone after thanksgiving...." his eyes narrow ever so slightly, as if in concentration. He's not about to let his guard down at -all- in the presence of this figure. "But then again...judging by your suit and all, I think I know what this is about. So why don't we just set him down nice and easy like...and we can talk about this and see if we can't come to a more peaceful solution where everybody walks away happy. I'm sure you'd rather not have his blood all over you right now...and I certainly don't feel like testing if you have cyberarmor under that mountain you call a chest."

. o O(...cause if he does I'm in bigger trouble than already.)

Twila Peterson begins to step out of the restaurant, and just about freezes at the sight which greets not terribly far away. Strays indeed! This is shortly before Rick, or rather his revolver, draws attention to the fact he's behind the giant and his pray. As she watches she's suddenly jostled to one side as some of the pedestrians make their way inside the building...not all too keen in being here within this local at the moment. With a grunt, the girl steadies herself once again...as the invividuals who are now inside wonder what level the young lady's intelligence may be.

Twila is, however, suddenly more concerned for her brother as well as the one he's attempting to help at the moment to notice much else.

ANd Rungo actually stops. His eyes narrow impercetibly and he grimaces just a little bit .. at himself really. Arago would be chiding him quite seriously right now.. Chiding him for being sloppy. He should have taken Neil here into an alleyway and done it there quite quickly in an attempt to simply get the job over with but no. He had to give into his brutish tendencies and make it painful and now here he is ..caught. Slowly the neanderthalic titan lets go of Neil to drop him uncerimonously to the ground..and then he begins to turn.

The huge mountain that is his chest sticks outward like an awning. Overshadowing clear to the navel of the giants huge body while both of his monsterous pecs tighten upward with the audible sound of tendons straining and muscle lurching. Skin creaking and stretching. His shirt tightens and sinks into the folds of flesh formed by the idle flexing of both of his humongous and immense pecs and then he relaxs them with an audible *THUD* to their movements while Rungo himself merely emits another neanderthalic sounding grunt. If someone could speak caveman they could probably understand him. But by the looks of how he just moved the sets of Mount Fuji attached to his torso..it's almost as if he's daring Rick Morgan to take a shot.. Eventually the giant speaks. Voice rumbling. "If you now what is good for you ... then maybe you should be running along little boy. Hmmm? Otherwise..I might have to make it worse for Mr. Neil here.. He wouldnt like that. I might though.." Said calmly and unemotionally. Just a statment of the facts.. As if he doesn't care either way.

Like a sack of potatoes, Neil hits the ground with an audible *WHUMP!* his legs instantly curling up underneath him as he bites out a wail of pain, curling into a half fetal position in the process, and tucking his head close to his chest.

Rick stares back quietly, eyes still narrowed to slits. Inwardly he winces at the landing, but he doesn't let it show outside. When you deal with the likes of Robot Masters and Mavericks on a basis as often as him, it puts -some- measure of self restraint into a person. That still doesn't mean for one moment that he's going to take a -too- casual attitude or otherwise with the enforcer. "Yeah I don't think he'd like that....neither would you though. Cause then I'd have to shoot you...." It's then, that his thumb raises up, and touches the hammerlock of the revolver, and he does seemingly the most unexpected thing, pulling it back, and letting it slide into the secure position once more. It dosen't mean the weapon still can't be fired, but not quite as easily. It's then that Rick angles his arm upwards, bringing the barrel to the sky for the moment, though keeping the weapon well in hand. "Kinda looks like somebody loses out in this case huh? But I'm not here to make things more difficult...." His arm then lowers, bringing the revolver to pointing at the ground instead. "I'm here to talk your language...."

Rick scowls then, and dips his head just a bit. "How much did he owe you?"

Twila Peterson starts moving within the trio's direction, but is mindful to stay on the opposing side and...hopefully out of harm's way by making it a point to stay behind the parked overcars that line the street. Even as she walks, and then slows behind one car in particular she peers over the the injured man, mind already pinpointing just how he may be injured. Still, it best if she not get any closer for fear of somehow getting in the way. Last thing she would want to do is somehow distract Rick from his "negotiations" with the thug.

"Nine Hundred Zenny.." rumbles Rungo with the dull voice of someone who could probably be the voice of 'Non' from Superman II or Lurch from the Addamns family. The titan observes Rick for a few seconds.. "And you will..pay?" He raises an eyebrow slowly. The thick meaty forhead of his scrunching upward into vague surprise. In truth he expected Rick to try and fight him. To underestimate him simply because of that gun in his hand. But instead Rick seems to want to avoid a fight and wants to pay for Neil. The prospect is fairly unusual and also..disastifying though Rungo wouldn't openly admit such a thing. Though he might to Arago. Instead he simply looks at Rick dully and then slides his gaze past him to note .. Twila. He hmms slowly. Most civilians have cleared the streets by now. It was just Rungo, Rick and Neil. NOw there is a woman present. Obviously someone of import to either Neil or Rick. For Rungo is not totally stupid. Only someone with something to gain or lose from this confrontation would be outside right now. Especially with everyone else cowering indoors for fear of the wrath of this titan.

Rungo's gaze then returns to Rick and he simply stands there. Uncomfortably close to Neil.. In the time it would take for Rick to fire that gun.. Neil's body will be broken in half.. And Rungo believes he is bullet proof and thus fears Rick not at all. Wether or not that is true..well. Perhaps we will find out this night.

Or perhaps not.

Said aforementioned young woman can't help but feel somewhat more uneasy from that stare from the thug, regardless of how brief it was. Her response is to take only half a pace back while still remaining behind the vehicle. But she does nothing more.

Most likely not...without provocation that is. It's then that Rick twists his gun around, and returns it to his chest holster once more. With the same motion, he removes a small creditstick, flipping it up between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it around so he can adjust the little dials to the correct amount. Wordlessly, he tilts it up then, and holds it for Rungo to see easily, before giving it an ever so slight toss, sending it spinning through the air towards the giant of a man.

"900 Zenny for 3 weeks due." Rick states evenly. Perhaps he has a little bit of knowledge as to what the local 'rates' are running at about. "And another 300 to buy him next week too, since it looks like he's going to be unable to stick around for cash then as well...." he grunts, not in the least bit pleased by it, or the sudden dent in his account. But that's not what he cares about right now. "I trust that's satisfactory...."

A monsterous hand reaches upward and snatches the credstick out of the air and Rungo slowly raises it back upwards after the catch to take a look at it. His dark eyes rove over the stick with the eye of someone used to seeing counterfeits and as if unsure Rick is actually going to make good on his word. There is silence. Dull silence except for the heavy brutish breathing of this gigantic brute. The rise and fall of his mountainous chest. SLowly the titan emits a dull "Hmmmmm...." and all is silent once more aside from his brutish breath.

And then a dull "It is satisfactory.. Pleasure doing buisness with you... The fee is paid.." Slowly the brute begins to turn around. His monsterous back shifting around like a gigantic battleship attempting to turn around. In other words..not very quickly. He's slow, he's titanic. He's a mountain with legs and as a result. He don't move to fast. But then again he doesn't need to. "Until we meet again.." he rumbles. The vague hint of a 'promise' in his voice.. He gives Neil a quick glance and then the titan turns and begins to cross the street. Heading towards an alleyway opposite to where he and Neil was at.

ick Morgan watches as Rungo moves off, taking a slow, deep breath, and not budging from his spot until every last inch of that giant frame has entered the alleyway. It's then that he finally pulls his jacket forward once more, and moves over to where Neil lays, crouching down next to his contact to have a look over him before touching...and risking further injury.

"Man you just love gettin me in trouble don't you...?" Rick quips, finally leaning forward to help Neil sit up somewhat.

For all it's worth, the rigger holds up well now, though his legs are limp and obviously near useless right now. "S'not my choice man...." he returns in a wheeze, the throbbing pain in his hips a constant reminder of how close he came to being split in two.

"Yeah well what do you expect not paying the Yaks off? You're lucky that guy didn't tear you into strips. Or they didn't just put a bullet in your forehead..."

Twila Peterson makes it a point to start moving away from her own position when the thug heads over towards her general direction. Keeping her distance from the titan as he continues towards the alleyway a number of feet from the parked hovercar she circles around the vehicle and heads towards Rick and his associate on shaky legs. It's a few moments before traffic resumes. As such, Twila is unhindered within her gait. After tossing a belated one last glance towards the alley she again focuses on the two. There's a sudden loss for words for a few moments before she questions Rick, "How badly is he hurt?"

"I can't feel my legs at all man...I think he tore somethin..." he mutters, holding himself up, and breathing quickly through his nose with the stabbing pain.

Rick sighs, and glances down at the other's condition, before biting his lip. "Well we can't call an ambulance here. Too many questions would be asked. We'll have to get you to the hospital on our own....say some guy attacked you or something." With that, he leans down and hooks one hand under the other man's right arm. "C'mon Twila. We can make good time there. It's a good thing you don't weigh much Neil..."

Twila Peterson nods towards Rick in understanding, choosing not to answer his first question seeing as how "Neil" is the first concern. She carefully lowers and sliders herself underneath the man's left shoulder. "Take it easy. And don't go into a panic until there's something to panic about. It's possible that your injuries are causing temporary paralysis that'll lighten up as soon as the swelling goes down..." she offers, hoping that might help, if only a little.
"On another note..." Rick grunts, as he helps hoist Neil up, now beginning to slowly carry him along the sidewalk, in the direction of the nearest hospital. "I -do- hope that this recent contribution to your cause has earned me a -substantial- discount on the next shipment....hrm?"

Neil blinks, and glances over, as what Rick has said registers to him. Even through the pain, he manages to rolls his eyes just a bit. "Awww man..." he mutters.

Rick can't help but smirk ever so slightly. "Thought so."

Sometime later, with the streets much more quiet in the early morning hours, Rick finally steps out from the front doors of the hospital, leading the way. He takes a deep breath as he gets out into the fresh air. Wel...fresher than inside anyway, and a long sigh is given out. "If it isn't one thing...it's another." he mutters, and shakes his head slowly. "Least they said it wasn't permanent damage...though those splints will slow him down for awhile. Not like he was all that mobile before I guess."

"Least he'll be alright..." Twila muses in response. Of course, she's only referring to his current injuried. She knows little else about this fellow. So, by rights, she can't very well inject anything further. "I...won't ask exactly what that was about. It was...pretty much self evident." Although, she was suprised the extortion was out in the open as it was. Was the criminal element that brazen? Suppose so. "Rock had told me the Yusuka were rather...active...within this city."

ick Morgan hmmms quietly, and nods slowly. "Yeah. This is it actually. Where it all started way back in the days. So you could almost say Tokyo gave birth to the Yakuza in a way. Kinda figure this would be where they reside then." He gives a small shrug. "Protection rackets, small time crime, all that other stuff too. You know the story. They say movies exaggerate it but..it's not all -that- far off in some respects." he smirks ever so faintly, then brings his arms up about himself for a moment, actually shivering. "Man I wouldn't wanna know what woulda happened if that guy got his hands on me. Even though I paid I dunno if that'll satisfy him. All depends on how professional he is I guess..."

Twila Peterson snakes an arm behind Rick's back as she's walking and pulls herself closer when she realizes he's trembling. "He better. You know how red-headed sisters can be when someone messes around with their brothers. Maybe...he's heard the horror stories?" she offers, mainly trying to cheer him.

Rick Morgan glances to the side, and takes the time to finally untwine his arms, and put his own around Twila's shoulder, hugging her close. He can't help but smirk just a little. "I bet he'd be trembling in fear at the very thought...."