[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

There’s something hella whack ‘bout rollin’ into Shinjuku in my civilian car. The car I’m gonna tote my kids ‘round in, nylon and polyester soon to be stained with apple juice and God knows what else. It doesn’t take these pot-holed roads well, can’t get away at breakneck speeds from the city on the edge of the world.

I sigh obnoxiously loud gettin’ out the car, slam the door shut before heading to the trunk. I ain’t even agitated; I’m just naked. No mask, no guns, no knives. I pop a painkiller the size of a horse pill, tug on the white pocketed jumper and ballcap. I’m standin’ outside the nicest night club that doesn’t deserve this hellhole of a place. High-tier opulence, immaculate floors and even finer drugs. Secret gentleman’s rooms I’ve heard, a hedonist’s paradise. I’d take my girl somewhere like here a year or two ago, leave while the night was young. Before anyone at the upper echelons of the political ladder or gang hierarchy got killed. They bleed different, taste better than the kids forced into dealing, gangbanging. Ah, my youth.

Y’know what tho?!

Everyone shits the same!!

“What sideways piss-■■■■ ■■■■ ain’t even have the courtesy of flushing?!” So there I am, doing what you think!! at three in the afternoon at the Nirvana. I know, I know. Why me? I’ve always asked. In this specific case, it’s cause their last janitor hire mysteriously disappeared the night after his shift. And the guy before that, and the one before that… Evidently, the agencies pay you hella more to clean the grime outta the most crime-infested city in the nation!! Clean like your life depends on it, literally! Luckily, I ain’t scared of all of that.

Rolling outta the megamillion-dollar bathrooms with task-lighting like a new mortgage, I plodded over to the supply closet. Time to refill the sprays in my rolling cart, get to work on the floors next.

tag: Elias

[Elias]

The Bird of Hermes is    my name                       Eat  My   WINGS   TO   KEEP   ME   TAME CHUCK MCCOY

Quiet roamed the halls, levels, and floor of club Nirvana. Well, quiet relative to the deafening booms of the nightclub's active hours. A few patrons moseyed on through the operation. While certainly dubbed a nightclub, Nirvana rarely shut its doors. The ever-rolling staff was that efficient. 

"Are you with us, Mr. Kamiya?" Sugawara asked from his seat. 

It was a meeting of serpents. The collective heads of the hydra. Sugawara, the good doctor, handled the organization's funding as well as its many scientific ventures. 

"But of course, doctor," Elias said, turning away from the floor-to-ceiling window of his office. He had been eyeing a particularly stunning piece that walked in a few moments prior, taking her place at the bar. But such ventures would have to wait. No telling when a knife might be plunged into his back by these folk. 

An icy gaze met the doctor, then shifted to his mummified compatriot. Mosu Amano, Kagutsuchi in some circles, was the organization's tactical commander. If Sugawara needed something to further their goals, Amano figured out how to get it done. More monster than man now. 

"Do you mind?" Elias asked, eyeing the man's pipe. 

"Well, as a matter of fact, yes- I do," the mummies shit-easting grin was perfectly visible despite his bandages.  

"Oi, jus' do the lad a favor n' put it out, will yuh?" 

The head Elias was least familiar with. Few were the occasions Elias heard him called by name, and the name appeared to change often. One day Sugawara might refer to him as Alpha, others - Chronos. Most recently he went by Dagda. The nature of his purview remained a mystery to Elias, but when the young man spoke, the others listened. 

"Very well." 

With that, Amano stuck his pipe against the arm of the couch he was perched upon. A grimace instantly reached across Elias's face. He was meticulous in his choice of furniture, decor, and every tile of both clubs really. Why did they have to meet here today.

"You look displeased, Kamiya," Sugawara went on. "Does our presence disturb you so?"

"I only wonder what it is I can offer my benefactors this fine day,"

Not entirely false. Give them what they want so they can get the hell out before the club moved to prime hours. Elias owed Ouroboros everything, but the crown they had adorned him in came with shackles, and his was not the role of a submissive.

"Don't worry, we'll be out of your hair soon."

"Should we not take such delicate affairs to the Hibernacula?"

"Won't be necessary, sham. We've dun' our business elsewhere; just needed a little stroll. See 'em sights n' such. Check progress." 

"And give you some work. A job. A chance to pull your weight." 

Were they putting him in his place? Reminding him of his masters? Such a show of force was entirely unnecessary. Any of the three could end his life, raze the club and the neighborhood too. Well. Sugawara and Amano could. Elias hadn't seen the younger fellow in action.

Speaking of which, Dagda swayed the cup in his hands, swishing its contents about. Whatever it was, it wasn't from the club. He had brought it with him.

"KAMIYA! KAMIYA! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" 

A familiar voice. One The Wish-Maker had recently handled, or so he thought. Tamotsu. The voice boomed from the main floor below. A massive brute of a man, clad in biker gear, once more surrounded by his posse. Had they not learned their lesson last time. Odd times were those that the likes of Tamotsu might save Elias from the savagery of boredom.  

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Whatever your wishes, I'm sure I can make them a reality, but first, I must attend to this matter."

"Make it quick. I have less patience than time," Dagda's voice was ice over steel. A distinct shift from the whimsy it possessed only a moment prior.

"Of course," Elias replied.

Without another word, he exited the second-floor office and made for the railing of his private balcony overlooking the dance floor below. Tamorsu brought more muscle this time. A solid twelve or so men stood at his side. Elias could ask the heads of Ouroboros to handle it, but that would weaken his position in the organization. On the other hand, most of the security team members weren't due for another two hours. Nirvana only kept a skeleton security crew on during the day. And he didn't have time to bring up aid from the Hibernacula. This would be interesting. 

OWL

[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

Y’know, I did the most dumbass thing.

Somewhere between wringing the mop, dirty suds gushing into the yellow bucket n’ swappin’ it for the clean water, I did the thing. Let the tiniest semblance of a smile hit a dimple. Let my mind lean back n’ stretch, thought to myself with the happiest stupidest face, my ass is almost OUTTA here!!

Major rookie mistake!! Everyone knows the second you do that is when some disaster hits you! I clenched my jaw the second those massive grandeur doors flung open, a dozen-man biker group flooding the dancefloor. They’re in a hella mood for trouble. Even before big man Tamotsu shouted what he did, they were ready for havoc. A gargantuan woman n’ wicked biker surround this chick, who shrieks as a hand clutches the back of her dress n’ tries to rip it straight off. “What’s up, baby?” the vixen hisses, grabbing the woman’s bare hips before forcing herself up to her ear, “You wanna take a ride with the big kids? I’ll let you sit front and center.” They’re all chortling like overgrown school kids. My mind goes back to the clock. Hell, I’ll do my eight then hit the gate! This ain’t my problem! A song starts reverberating through my head -

YOU DO YOU- hey, ain’t that the name of some salon? - I’LL DO ME!

One of the bikers punts my mop bucket, water arching through the air before the thing eventually hit the marble floor with a metal thud. My jaw’s tremblin’, fists balled at my sides. The song’s still playin’ in my head.

We’ll all be one ■■■■ing happy family!!

Tamotsu yells what he does then, beckoning for the dude at the top of the balcony. I ain’t even see him, I’m so pissed, lifeless eyes narrowing under the brim of the janitor cap. I ain’t wanna play Hero. I’m hella mad, ya, but who cares really. They’re hootin’ n’ hollerin’, tryna get a reaction out of everyone in what feels like the whole goddamn city. Fightin’ for no reason was beyond me. Just need to figure a subtle way to get outta here with their whole gang cloggin’ the entrance. A couple go smashing chars against the exorbitant counter. Well, ain’t gonna get out that way.

O, dip. Would they pay me if blood was left all over the floor?

Aye-yai-yai…

tag: Elias

[Elias]

The Bird of Hermes is    my name                       Eat  My   WINGS   TO   KEEP   ME   TAME CHUCK MCCOY

Elias's icy stare swung between Tamotsu and his two thugs harassing the woman by the bar. They had been warned. He had told Tamotsu specifically not to lay his hands on the clubs patrons or its staff. And here they were, making a mess, laying their filthy paws on elegance given shape and form. He wasn't standing amidst the hydra any longer. Here, in his club, all belonged to Elias. The second they walked in Nirvana's doors, his patrons were his property. Under his protection. Invisibly marked by his gloved hands. His. 

"I WARNED YOU, KAMIYA! I TOLD YOU WE WANTED!" 

"No, Tamotsu. It is that warned you what would happen should you and your ilk disturb my employees or my guests," the Wish-Maker said with a scowl. "There will be no further warnings." 

The five guards on duty surrounded the gaggle of goons. Outnumbered- for now, but Elias wasn't feeling particularly merciful today. His plans had been turned on their head enough as of late. To suffer yet more indignity simply would not be tolerated. It was daytime. There weren't too many patrons about. A minute pittance to witness his quirk. Fewer people- fewer memories requiring erasure via wish. Why not unwind a bit? 

"AIKO!" He shouted for the club's DJ, "spin it." 

The DJ booth was on the opposite end of the club, overlooking the dance floor. With a thumbs up, one of the few people who had earned Elias's trust gave her boss the thumbs up and queued up the track.  

Elias leaped over the edge and cast dozens of threads on his enemies with the forward flush of his hand. He ensnared the two foremost thugs and tossed them aside with a tug of his arm. One crashed against a corner table. The other just flew by the janitor. 

"I've had enough of these trivialities you bring to my doorstep. Maybe it's time the Skull Riders disappear," he threatened the gang in its entirety.

"GET EM, BOYS!" Tamotsu shouted.

The thugs mobilized. Nirvana's security moved in kind. They were outnumbered, though perhaps not outmatched. 

OWL

[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

While I’m sulking under my janitor’s cap, a series of assessments are being made. Ain’t really thinkin’ bout it, just a combo of intuition and experience as a Villain. Things my brother Brie taught me. Astutely gauging your odds of winnin’ in any possible scenario, definin’ what the hell it means to win anyway, scanning for exits, picking out the most dangerous person in a gang. Pro tip, it usually ain’t who you think on first glance. Learned that the hard way, heh. Anyway, I’m still as a statue like that as the guy in the immaculate suit n’ Tamotsu talk shit. Soon as the music drops n’ a curtain of threads go flying off the banister, I’m still decidin’ what I wanna do.

Two thugs go flyin’. One by me, a wreck who clambers back up n’ tries his best to whack me with a spiked baseball bat. I sidestep him. “Eh,” I coo as that crusty ass woman from earlier goes sprinting towards that spiffy guy with ebony-soaked claws outstretched for his jugular, “I ain’t really wanna part of this, y’know what I mean??” I don’t know who the hell I’m talkin’ to. It’d be a miracle if anyone could hear me above the music, not like God ever heard me ‘cept for bringing Kaz into my life.

That’s on me for opening my big mouth. A bigger guy on the Skull Riders socks me, hard, gets something cracking in my jaw as I spit out a tooth n’ blood. “Hoooh,” I sneer, “So you’re the kinda guy who’d put down the custodian staff.”

Nevermind, there’s bloody murder in my eyes now!! I break the mop in my hand in two, twirl both ends before straight up stabbing the sharp end through the big guy’s heart. “WELL ■■■■ YOU TOO!!” I kick him back, into another goon who shouts my way. Two extra arms pop up over my shoulder sockets, both of them motioning the dummies my way with curled fingers. A blood-lusted grin finds my face, words screamed over the crowd towards Mr. Spiffy!! “So, whaddya do to piss these assholes off? Prolly ain’t much but,” I add with a heave, hurling one guy into a pillar, “g’on, why not!!”

tag: Elias

[Elias]

The Bird of Hermes is    my name                       Eat  My   WINGS   TO   KEEP   ME   TAME CHUCK MCCOY

Half of the Skull Riders were tangled up with the upper club's security team. The other half was divided between Elias and a few that sported another target, someone at Elias's back. They ran right past him, which was perfectly fine by the Wish-Maker. Less sweat shed to seep into his suit. 

Tamotsu's feet were firmly planted in the ground, though, and that posed a problem. When the burly biker that headed the small band had his feet on the floor, he could manipulate the minerals below to cause all sorts of damage. Not only to his enemies, but now to NIrvana. 



A smile crept across the beaded mug of the giant man. Bastard. His fist rose, and boulder followed. A stone the size of Elias's torso spat out from the ground, forcing the Wish-Maker to dive to his side. His shoulder slammed into the floor, but that didn't stop him from flushing his fingers out ahead. Dozens of red threads unspooled from Elias's digits. About half the cat's cradle ensnared Tamotsu and threw him into the air. The rest latched onto the next two closest bikers and thrust them into the ground, each of their skulls thudding against the marble floor with an audible crack. 

Elias picked himself up, his left hand held out as he did. Red threads danced through the air, webbing Tamotsu above and holding him there. He couldn't be allowed to touch the ground. 

The janitor's words drew Elias's attention away. And onto a scene most peculiar. One man with a mop plunged into his chest. Another planted firmly on the floor. Interesting. 

"A misconception, dear friend. It's these fools that have made the unwise mistake of pissing me off," he sneered, looking back to the thugs. 

While Tamotsu hung in the air, cursing, the rest of the tribe charged. Two more were enwrapped by red threads, each thread tightening and tightening until blood splattered across the ground. Hopefully, the janitor was as good at cleaning as he was at killing. 

OWL

[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

It’s a helluva party now!! I’ve got four arms out, shoulders squared with eyes vacillating between the ugly ass mugs of the upper floor and this one. They’re not so run-of-the-mill, these damn sorry sods who messed with the wrong club. On the wrong night, that’s for sure!! I’m yanking out my makeshift weapon from one of the Skull Riders when the flame man from earlier charges me, his burning vortex of a skull hyper igniting my skin. “OH? NEW HERE, ARE YOU?” I cringe. His breath is just as bad as he looks! We’re skidding backwards on blood-soaked floors as my arm plunges into his chest, yanks out three upper ribs from each side of the cage as he smiles down at me. He’s laughing still and I sigh. Why are the most annoying ones always the hardest to kill. My ass included!!

“CLEAN,” I start, roundhouse kicking him away from me as I heave, “YOUR,” and grab the beer nozzle from the bar, “ACT,” and SPRAY!!, “UP!!” He goes melting, seared skin further eviscerated underneath the extinguished fire of his quirk as his hands flail outward in relentless agony. I shake my wrists out, deep burns singed through my blue skin. Tsk, tsk. It’s about that time Tamotsu shows his true strength. And to my surprise, the club owner unveils his. It’s a sight to see, red threads like destiny tightened to be a guillotine. We all die in the end, don’t we? I smirk up at him, a hand shooting to the back of my neck as I flush at what he says!!

“We’re homies now?! F’real?!” a chorus of murderous shouts surround us as men rush into his trap, blood flooding the floor. “Well, whatcha want friend? Kill ‘em or let their medical bills do that for them? I offer both. In the scent of lemon antiseptic!!” I’m laughing, big, hearty as I pick up the boulder leftover by Tamotsu and fling it upwards to the fight on the second level, a wave of screams following. Then I take one of the busted pillars from this level and go running right up with it!!

tag: Elias

[Elias]

The Bird of Hermes is    my name                       Eat  My   WINGS   TO   KEEP   ME   TAME CHUCK MCCOY

Two mooks come in swinging wide. Tom Ford custom loafers. The finest quality of men's dress shoes, and quite capable of caving the foremost mook's chest as Elias thrust his foot forward in a kick. No damage done for now. Good. For two million dollars USD, they better hold up. Still, Elias sneered. This was not their intended use. 

The second thug slashed with an electric blue katana. Gear or some confounded quirk-forged blade? Elias leaned back, but the blade cut his threads. Tamotsu dropped slammed onto the ground at the center of the club, free. 

To his left, two of the club's security team members dropped as three bikers outflanked them, beating them into the ground. What was he paying these fools for? 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he answered, "but do what my security team can't and maybe I'll bump you up a pay grade." 

Homies? Friends? Elias didn't do friends. He had personnel, followers, freaks and playthings... a few benefactors, too. If you weren't of those rare few he owed his loyalties to, those that stood above, then you stayed below. But it wasn't an entire loss. Many of his toys understood the benefits of servitude. The Skull Riders, however, clearly didn't. They made their deal, then failed, and blamed the hand that fed them for that failure. Weakness. Ineptitude. Disloyalty. 

"No one is coming to save you, Wish-Maker," Tamotsu threatened, stone building over flesh. Armor he could control with his mind, so long as one of his feet remained grounded. 

Elias stood, undeterred. With the turn of his wrist, another dozen threads ensnared the swordsman at his side. A tightly bound cocoon was his cage, but the cage was moving. Friction built and burned the man inside alive. 

"And when have I ever needed saving?" He replied. 

The cocoon came apart as the threads unwound. The swordsman's corpse dropped. Save him? No. Nobody would save him. And he didn't need them to. 

OWL

[CHUCK MCCOY]

✧ RIP ✧

I furrow my thickass brows. It’s one thing for a gang to be violent against another gang. Anyone part of that lifestyle, by choice or otherwise, knows the rules of the game they’re playing. And it’s a whole other thing to beat on ordinary Civilians: custodial staff, security staff, the sea of sorry ■■■■’s who found their way mixed into all that shit. One night your son’s going out for a drink with his friends, the next day no one made it home. That shit pisses me off. I take my giant pillar and SWING it into the three bikers, practically lobbing one man’s waist off!! Felt good! “OI OI!! You’re on his side, right?! Then stand up!!” I grunt, throwing one man into another before getting my solar plexus slammed into!! It sucks all the air out of me. And still my bigass mouth finds a way to talk. “You got BROTHERS, SISTERS, WIVES to go home to, alright?! Plus, don’t make MORE WORK FOR ME!” I roar, getting right into the center of the circle and dishing our four-armed barrage punches!!

I peer down. Blood arches across my chest, an unusual burning sear spreading like hellfire across my ribs. Tch. Leave it to these jerks to have special weaponry. Why couldn’t they lend things like this out to the janitors?! Don’t tell me someone who can mop continuously for three hours ain’t able to swordfight with a laser nanotech katana just the same! I heave out, all eyes on my new friend!! “Okay, best friends!!” I add to it, teasing him with a grin. My only besties were that crazy runt I met in the forest, the lil jo-chan, and my wife!! “YOSH!!” I couldn’t tell him then that I could use the money. With kids on the way and a diaper pack going for ten million yen a pop it felt like, who couldn’t?!

My body leaps back into the fray, literally, ten feet into the air to slam on bikers retaliating on the upper level. I peep him and Tamotsu’s beef, my vision of the wealthy owner evolving by the moment. What he did to the swordsman took skill and experience unparalleled. Despite the expensive ass shoes I hated with every iota of matter in my body, because they reminded me of stupidly expensive fits my dad would rock just ‘cause it proved his status, I had to wonder: just who exactly was Wish-Maker?

tag: Elias

[Elias]

The Bird of Hermes is    my name                       Eat  My   WINGS   TO   KEEP   ME   TAME CHUCK MCCOY

The rest of the Skull Riders were occupied now, either by the remainder of the security team or the blue, four-armed freak. Tamotsu was armored up, but armor had a tendency to slow its wearer. Slow he could work with. The trick was staying a step ahead.  

"Make a wish while you can, Kamiya. You're going to need it," Tamotsu chuckled, lumbering in Elias's direction. 

Elias's quirk didn't work like that. Someone else needed to make the wish. His fate was one not woven by threads but forged with his own fists. His fists, looks, and money. People cared far more often when you were conventionally attractive or had money. Elias, remaining entirely humble of course, knew he had both. 

"I don't waste wishes on the unnecessary," Elias snapped back, then strung his threads onto one of the chandeliers and pulled himself up and over Tamotsu. 

From above, he watched as big blue burrowed into a ring of Skill Riders. Loudmouthed and undisciplined, but talent entirely wasted as a janitor. Did he possess sticktoitiveness, though? He was holding his own while his safety were tossed into the stakes, but would he turn tail and run when the going got tough? Only time would tell. 

"I prefer Mr. Kamiya," he shouted back to Chuck as he dropped behind Tamotsu. 

The golem turned and took a swing, but Elias backpedaled a step, out of range, then flushed a dozen threads around Tamotsu's elbow. The threads continued to spin around the joint, grinding stone, firm and thick, tearing pebbles away, but not quite penetrating the armor. This tactic would take far too long. Still, he kept the threads tethered to the stony armor. When Tamotsu took another swing, the threads tugged on the giant, throwing him off balance. 

Kamiya summoned needle to his threads, a rod-like weapon that accompanied his quirk. Elias dropped the head of the rod onto the Tamotsu's head, then commanded his threads to pull the golem back p before hiving him another smack with the rod. It wasn't the strongest weapon, but there was some heft to it and that's what he needed if he was to cause a crack in the armor. Or maybe, maybe there was another option. Elias's eyes fell on big blue further down the way. Short as he was, he had some mass to him. That was an idea.  

OWL