~~“Affectionate little thing aren’t ya? Not too bright though.”

Koga let out a small hiss, The man was so infuriating that he didn’t even want to speak.

~~“…well, this is embarrassing. I don’t suppose you’d let go if I offered you snack? I helped you pale friend over there lose a little weight earlier and I was wondering what to do with the- gah!”

“You talk too much.” Was Koga’s only statement to the man he’d be putting under in a moment or two, his muscles were in full effect now and soon he wouldn’t have enough air to keep yapping. Heee Haaaaaaw was all he was hearing from the donkey brained man.

A blade went in and sliced out of his arm and it was one of those slow motion moments that could last forever. “SSSSSSSSh***!” was what the overconfident teen wailed out of absolute pain, he couldn’t help it, he hoped he didn’t teach that to any children. His air simply releasesed lik cutting the string on pulley with weght on both ends, the searing white pain took over any want for revenge, he momentarily wondered what he would do if his arm had to be amputated…he’d learn to shot a gun and take this punk out that way.

You’d think that being tossed in a dumpster was a bad thing, but with some who was willing to just cut your arm in half, well the filthy dumpster was probably the place to be. He rolled around in the stench….he wasn’t a fainter, never had been, but this was unacceptable…he couldn’t trust any thing in the trash can to be clean enough to not infect him but he couldn’t let himself bleed out either… He lifted his wounded arm across his chest and pressed his fingers to his side holding his arm across him, his other hand then undid his belt, and then he fumbled with it until it was out of the loops in his slacks. Hi then put the belt through its self again and slipped it over his wounded arm and began to tourniquet it…he had to help who ever else was being hurt, who ever was making that moan of pain….. And that was about the time he realized it was him…He wrapped the belt tight around his arm and clutched it as tight as he could cutting off all blood flow to his wounded arm. He pulled it across the back of his neck and then pulled forward, another whimper escaped his lips.

He planted his feet on the side of the dumpster and shifted his gravity to that wall and tried to stumble his way up… The smell alone was enough to want to escape, but it was a matter of willpower if he managed it or not. Shin could be in danger. His foot lifted and took a very slow step upward.

The slant eyed irritant was fast, the demented anarchist would admit that much; he hadn’t even heard the delusional Asian approach, though that wasn’t saying much considering the amount of chaos currently waging in the background. It really leant a most delightful ambience to the overall scene, punctuated only by the rather abrupt sensation of pain as a fist caromed off the former soldier jaw with sufficient impetus to dislodge the sinister bombers centre of balance, causing him to perform a half pirouette as he stumbled backwards and into the dumpster which currently held what by now should have been a rather lethargic lizard, still there was no harm in adding a little extra weight to the lid, which the malicious murderer promptly did as he planted his hands atop the metallic shell in an effort to cease the spinning within his skull. When such efforts proved unsuccessful however the Canadian killer decided to change tact and whirled around to face his annoying assailant, verily there had to be a limit as to how encumbering one could be and the youth before him was rapidly reaching his quota.

It was quite the dilemma to be sure, should he maim the aggravating Asian leaving the boy to endure the rest of his life as a cripple and curse his inability to act, or should he simply terminate the source of his annoyance and return to wreaking havoc on the city at large? The former would certainly be more amusing however the latter would be the safer bet, after all the kids mutation was somewhat more troubling than most and the former soldier truly did despise it when others butted in on his fun, still though, mocking a crippled Asian cursed with caped crusader syndrome did sound rather appealing… hmm, what to do?

‘Screw it, he doesn’t deserve this much thought; I’ll let lady luck decide.’

Stepping away from the dumpster Hull slowly began to circle his so called opponent, an amused glint entering his toxic viridian eyes even as blood trailed from the corner as mouth when the boy began to mirror his movements which were continued until the ex-soldiers back faced the mouth of the alleyway, at which point the slant eyed foreigner began a rather hypocritical diatribe as he failed to react when the sinister slaughters hands disappeared into their sleeves, only to return a split second later, one holding a quotidian crimson lighter whilst the other clutched an open alcoholic beverage with a strip of cloth wedged down neck like some demented scarf.

The latter object, for the uneducated among us unable to recognize it, was an was an oh so handy Molotov cocktail, otherwise known as the beggars bomb; a name Hull had always found severely misleading for he’d yet to encounter a beggar who’d willingly sacrifice a bottle. Still that was neither here nor there, all the reader need concern themselves with is the fact that a Molotov cocktail is convenient explosive for those looking to cause some chaos in a hurry, indeed quite a few of these impromptu bombs had been used on the street behind the malicious murder by the angry mob he’d whipped up a short while ago… it truly was fascinating how easily people could be led; they really were nothing more than sheep.

Bringing the lighter to the makeshift fuse of his homemade explosive the sinister slaughter was able to enjoy the expression of utter shock and alarm which passed across his adversary’s features as the boy finally comprehended the situation. It was most entertaining to be sure; observing the Asian’s countenance rapidly shift from smug hubris to eye widening fear as the alcohol soaked rag caught fire and the bottle was thrown through air on a trajectory which would see it collide cleanly with the corner of the dumpster to the boys right. Ideally the bottle would shatter against the edge of the dumpster and spill its flaming contents across the alleyway leaving little to no room to dodge. Sadly however the malicious wanderer did not remain to monitor the results of his efforts for an outside stimulus had caught his attention, specifically the sound of sirens unrelated to that of ambulances or fire engines, no the precise screech currently scorching the air was restricted primarily to police vehicles and such vehicles typically possessed many unexpected and useful items.

Thus it was without further ado the sinister bomber dived out of the alley and into the main street the moment the explosive had left his hands. Normally such an unusual entrance/exit would catch the attention of anyone who happened to walking the streets, fortuitously however the mass of chaos and carnage littering the roads was more than sufficient to distract the addle minded denizens of the urban jungle and as such none noticed when the malevolent murder rolled to his feet with surprising alacrity and rapidly dodged through the crowd and approached the blinking azure and crimson lights. The boys in blue were just departing their vehicles when Hull finally came within reach at the front of the crowd, viridian eyes swiftly scanned the scene before him, no less than half dozen pristine NYPD vehicles sat before him, completely unsupervised and, hopefully, full of gas.

Striding forward with an air of purpose and confidence the Canadian killer broke away from the senseless crowd, calmly approaching the collects of cars and sliding a hand into the recesses of his coat and withdrawing a slim metallic object which, from a distance could pass as a key but in actuality was nothing more than a prop to disguise the anarchists actions as he moved to place his argent fingers against the doors locking mechanism…

“The hell do you think you’re doing?”[/color]

A thick hand landed on the ex-soldiers shoulder and forced him against the car as another grabbed his free hand and twisted it around his back effectively pinning him against the car. Hull for his part was more than a little put out, his performance hadn’t been that poor had it? No, there must be something else to it, briefly he tested his captor’s hold and found the man’s grip to be somewhat stronger than he was used to, he could possibly break free but such an act would instigate a struggle and only lead to greater confrontation which wasn’t something the demented killer wanted at this precise moment. Glancing back over his shoulder emerald eyes took in the appearance of the individual behind him.

The man was white and heavyset, some might be tempted to call it fat but if the mans grip were any indication there was at least muscle wrapped around the large frame. Receding brown hair covered the man’s skull and green eyes far duller than the anarchists own sat atop a rather elongated nose which simply begged to be broken in one if not two places. Completing the somewhat unappealing physiognomy was a crooked scar running from the left the man’s left cheek to his chin in a manner which suggested a shaving accident or possibly a lack of fine motor skills when it came to utilizing a knife and fork. In either case the overall image was of a man who’d had to deal with too much in his life already and was being forced to deal with yet more.

“I could ask you the same damn thing asshole! The fuck is your problem, I need to get out an APB on this crazy bitch of a mutant who started a fire, now would you let me get into my car?!”

The only response Hull received was a rather forceful shove against the car’s frame as his head was slammed against the vehicles roof, a maneuver which was meant to momentarily stun but was rather ineffective when the target knew the move was coming and could twist his head accordingly. Still the malicious traveler permitted his body to lose its tension and fall slack thereby allowing the disgruntled officer behind to wrap both arms behind his back and lock them in place with what felt like plastic handcuffs.

“First mistake asshole, know who you’re talking to, if you were actually in the force you’d know that as commissioner I’ve got the right to beat you back and forth until you forget which way is down. But hey, you know what, I’m a nice guy, you want in the car that badly fine.”[/color]

In less time than it likely took the man to devour a bigmac the Canadian killer found himself being bent over and all but thrown into the backseat of the police cruiser with his hands still firmly cuffed behind his back. The door was swiftly locked behind and the sinister bomber was left to glare spitefully at the man who’d placed him in his current position… right up until said man turned his back and began to walk away. At that points Hull’s expression rapidly evolved into one of self satisfied glee as his silver tipped fingers arced down and deftly vanished the polymer crafted restraints from his wrists and uncurled the fingers of his other hand which revealed a rather hefty set of keys one of which was unmistakably a car key.

Thus it was that 30 seconds later the demented ex-soldier managed to remove the screen separating the front and back sections of the vehicle and crawl forward into the driver’s seat where he then took a moment to situate himself and observe proper safety protocol; seatbelt, seat, steering wheel, mirrors all were checked with due efficiency and altered accordingly. The ignition was then activated and the horn honked liberally to garner the attention of the so called police commissioner who received a benevolent wave and genial smile to accompany his flabbergasted expression before finally bestowing a liberal amount of gas to the engine and rapidly accelerating down the road.

“Son of a bitch!”[/color]

Was this what it was like to fly? His body lurched forward like a stooge on a banana peel, hand stretched out and screaming Koga's name. No! This wasn't good. If that was what he thought that was (and why did the green-eyed guy have one of those, anyways!?) then Koga'd be in a bigger hurt than he was before... and...

his mind flatlined as the world stripped away

for a second, Shin was there mentally, then suddenly, his concentration zapped towards one task: controlling its extensions. The shards from before shot forward in the blink of an eye, cube-shape maintained... they slid inwards to catch the Molotov cocktail like a waste basket, shard lid snapping back down as the cocktail erupted in a flash of red. ...too much... Shin swayed woozily against the wall of the alley, then collapsed to the ground. The shards dissipated.

Bottle fell into a thousand pieces. Fire, unquenchable.

Flames licked at a crumpled newspaper, quickly spread to the plastic bags... Another form rushed into the alley. Lifted Shin by the arms, shook him.

Disjointed thoughts connected to form a face. Hazel eyes, dirty-brownish-blonde hair... "... Aurum? ...What's... Koga!" He extricated himself from the brunette coffee-man's grasp, rushing forward to tear open the lid of the dumpster. Smoke filled the alley, making things harder to see. He peered in. "Koga!?"

Koga's second footstep finally fell landing a mere minute later than the first, the world outside of the stench was so far away, it could be seen as unattainable, but Shin was still out there. Version blurry he comanded his foot to take another step. Te lid to the dumpster burst open and Shin peered in the dumpster behind him heavenly illuminated clouds appeared behind Shin San, the bright light combined with a distinct lose of blood made Shin's appearance seem angelic. but it also robbed Koga of his purpose. Shin was just fine.

Koga let a broad smile roll across his features and he fell to the wall.In almost silent rasp Koga uttered but one word. "Sssssafe." then his black eyes started to roll backwards as his body passed out there on the wall.

The alley smoked and burned and if there was ever a worse smell than that of the inside of a dumpster, it was that of a filthy alley catching flame. Water began to fall from one of the windows higher up in the alleyway. a resident in one of the buildings had rigged a hose for a fire escape garden and was attempting to fight the flame with meager means.

"Oh crap! Koga! Aurum, he's hurt. Go get a doctor or something. We need to get him to the hospital. Koga! It's gonna be alright." Shin fretted, prying Koga from the wall. He was heavier than Shin had thought. A split-second after Shin pried, the lizard boy slumped down dangerously in his arms. Maybe not lifting. Shin would have to drag.... but at least for the moment, they were safe.

Safe from that green-eyed malcontent Malificent. But safe from the fire that licked oh-so-greedily behind their backs? Oh no. And their scooters... ugh. He peered through the smoke with a choking cough. They couldn't leave their trusty pink scooters to suffer the sulfurous fate of fire's fury. It'd leave Shin with no realistic amount of ire for fire, that it would.

Aurum pulled at Koga's feet, and helped Shin lift the boy. "I drove my parent's van to work today... I went and got it while you two fought that bastard... Ghost's alright. She rode off on a unicorn, and I already picked up Koga's scooter and put it in the back..." The coffee-man's lips were moving, but all Shin heard was the crackle of flames around Betsy.

His scooter, Betsy. That's what he named her.

Betsy. "Can we save her?" He asked weakly as he lifted Koga into the back of the van. Aurum stared at him blankly.

"I thought Koga was a dude."

"No, I mean Betsy. Beeeetsy!!" Shin wasn't thinking straight. He called out to the scooter from across the flaming alley, hoping it would come. In his mind, he imagined the happy 'honk honk' of homecoming. The Kitten engine's roar. Baby tears. Ash drifted up in the alleyway as the tongues of flame frenched the walls.

Shin made a break for it. Through the fire and flames. "Meet me around back!!"

Aurum slapped his forehead. That idiot... with a sigh, he wheeled around the side of the golden delivery van. The back door slammed shut, leaving Koga amid crates and his own scooter. It was a little cold, too. Not a freezer, but chilly. Koga was feeling a distinct chill now, while the clothes on Shin's body were sheared away by heat.

Betsy's silhouette. Shin saw it!! She was safe! He rushed to clasp the scooter in his arms. A look down the back alley, left, then right. Was there room? With a weak sound like a sigh, Shin gripped the ride by the handlebars, and wheeled it towards safety like a fireman walking a child from a five alarm blaze. He felt like a hero.

A hero.

Even more-so when he set Betsy down in the back of the van. And when the van pulled into the emergency ward of the hospital. When he set Koga down on the stretcher, and the doctors rushed to give aid.

Like a hero... He gulped to himself, and looked to Aurum.

"Thanks."