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part two hundred and twenty one
chiyu chiyu
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world cup: exomeme edition: prelims | round one | round two | round three | finals
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world cup: exomeme edition: prelims | round one | round two | round three | finals
congratulations team lay!
last page | flat view | themes | games
wc!au: team chen - baccano au part part 4
(Anonymous) 2014-07-23 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)theme: animanga, mafia, historical
prev parts here:
this part 1740w
Re: wc!au: team chen - baccano au part part 4
(Anonymous) 2014-07-23 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)Re: wc!au: team chen - baccano au part part 4
(Anonymous) 2014-07-23 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)5:34 pm
This talk isn’t going very well. The least Minseok’s expecting is a civil exchange and less of the unnecessary posturing. Perhaps he’s asking for too much.
Minseok lies there face down on the floor bleeding out of his mouth, his nose, his ears. His shoulders are most probably dislocated because he can’t feel anything but radiating pain down his arms, can’t even make the tiniest movements with his fingers. He’s having trouble breathing in the pool of his own sticky blood.
Mountain man turns Minseok’s pathetic chair over. There. Better. He can now breathe through the blood bubbles on his nose. Everything still hurts though and at times like these he hates himself for caring about the details. For wanting to complete the puzzle in his head.
“Has he softened up enough to talk then?” Minseok hears someone say to mountain man.
A pair of shiny black shoes enters what remains of his squished field of vision. Italian leather. Minseok is sure Joonmyun has the same exact pair in brown. Joonmyun will be very very disappointed to know he shares his tastes in footwear with a dickbag.
“Looks like he forgot his English. Broke off his arms and hands for you, boss, so no more-“ Minseok sees the shadow of mountain man’s huge arms flap about. “None of that ice-making business.”
Italian shoes dickbag crouches next to Minseok. It’s the tall guy with the sub-machine gun from the freight hold earlier. “So Xiumin, ready to talk about the Gandors?”
They’ve gone through his luggage. No surprise there. Minseok gurgles back an expletive in response to his fake name and is sure dickbag doesn’t understand any of it.
“Because I’ve seen you and your people hanging off of them like flies. Are you and your kind helping them to take over our turf? No wonder the Gandors are like cockroaches.” Dickbag kicks his side and it should hurt, Minseok should be gritting his teeth. It seems to pale in comparison to the overwhelming pain in every other part of his body. “They’re hard to kill and I don’t like it. My boys don’t like that at all.”
“Who… What-“ Minseok coughs and spits out another bloody glob on the dirty floor. There’s not enough time.
“Perhaps I should take my time taking you apart. To see how you freaks work? The Patron doesn’t like it, he’d rather watch you burn. “ He feels the toe of a shoe resting against his bruised cheek. “What do you think? I won’t let them touch you and maybe one or two of your men. I can reason out it’s for business reasons, for funding these crazies, yes? How about it, your life in exchange for squashing the Gandors?”
Minseok must be nearly out of his mind because he finds himself laughing. It’s a messy one, he’s almost choking, but it’s unmistakable. Dickbag kicks him in the mouth.
1930, two years ago
Joonmyun refuses more wine.
“I really have to go, I’m sorry.” He apologizes to Firo, to the Gandors who seem to have taken an interest in him and the exploits of his crew, and stands up from the merry table. It’s very very good wine too – velvety and rich, a hit of black currant, and an aftertaste that he can’t identify yet he finds pleasant. “I have to take an early train tomorrow. I can’t miss it.”
“Of course. Send my regards to the others.” Firo grins, eyes still clear. He’s not even a bit sloppy at this point. Joonmyun envies him.
The cold air outside does little to clear Joonmyun’s head. He doesn’t bother finding a taxi and opts to walk briskly instead along the dark empty streets, pulling up his collar and burrowing himself deeper into the warm lining of his coat. He arrives shivering and still not entirely sober in his hotel room. The bandages on his left hand are wet from the light rain.
Joonmyun can already hear Jongdae chiding him, But you can control water, hyung. He shakes his head in the hopes of dislodging the fog of alcohol. He takes off his coat, puts down the bottle of unlabeled wine the Martillos had given him on top of his bedside table, goes to find a change of clothes. The first aid kit is still lying open on top of his bedcovers where he left it this afternoon.
“I guess I should clean this wound or else Yixing might stab me.” Joonmyun mumbles, sitting down at the only clear space on his bed, finally in dry clothes. He carefully picks at the edge of the bandages and it comes off easy and painless. Joonmyun finds himself staring down his left hand. The deep cut he sustained early this morning is gone. No trace of it at all in his palms.
“That’s strange.”
5:24 pm
“Hyung and I cleared the front carriages. The other passengers should be safe for now unless the creeps find a way to get past us.” Chanyeol reaches out a hand to help Jongdae down the roof and no sooner than their hands touch that Chanyeol recoils. “Jongdae, ow.”
“Sorry.“ Jongdae jumps down on his own, shaking his hands like he’s warding off something. Yixing lays a hand carefully at his shoulders – no electric shock – then grips it properly. He often sees Jongdae do this to Minseok and hopes it calms him down the same.
“Minseok-hyung won’t let us down. He’ll hold his own against them, like that one time he jumped on the hood of a car, and shot-“
Jongdae’s rubbing at his face and electricity crackles along his gloved hands. “This is different, hyung.”
“How many are they?” Yixing asks. He’s not used to being the oldest and being in charge. Minseok’s always been there when Joonmyun’s not around. But Jongdae’s too rattled to think through things properly. He can see him struggling to remember.
“Fifteen. Thirty. I don’t know. It was a carriage full of them.”
Chanyeol hands off rifles to Yixing and Jongdae. “There’s four carriages for cargo according to the wait staff, we’re not sure how many are still left. I’m not much into strategy but here’s what we’re going to do.”
“You’re not blowing up all the storage carriages with a grenade launcher, Chanyeol. Hyung is still inside one of them.” Yixing says.
Chanyeol nods. “We go in, finish every creeper and thug off, get hyung. Yixing-hyung can go stab them with pens if ever we run out of ammo. No grenade launchers until we get to Minseok-hyung. I only got one shot left anyway.” He wears the strap of the launcher by his shoulders and looks, no, stares at Jongdae. “You okay? We’re not leaving this train until we get him back alive, I promise.”
Jongdae does a quick check of his rifle. It’s one of the guns they got from the Gandors, one of the weapons Minseok negotiated for. Yixing’s own rifle still has ten rounds left.
“I’m not. But let’s hurry so I can still get to punch Minseok-hyung’s face.” Jongdae says.
5:38 pm
He gives the gun back to one of his boys and pulls out a white handkerchief to clean off the stain in his hands. The handkerchief turns a deep red.
“Tsk. He also got blood on my shoes. These are Italian leather too!” He bends down and takes a quick swipe at them. “Dave, hand me the gun again and I’ll add another hole in him.”
“Boss, he’s going to die anyway.” Dave tries to squeeze the gun back into his coat, then gives up halfway when he realizes there’s no more space for it. He should get suits in a bigger size. “I thought you’re gonna let him live? If I knew we’re offing him I wouldn’t have to restrain myself.”
“Pissed me off.” The handkerchief is thrown at the body. “He had this look in his eyes like he isn’t afraid of anything at all.”
Despite Chanyeol’s best efforts, the cult is making progress in eliminating the scum of the earth
5:28 pm
The ice door is already starting to melt by the time they reach the freight hold. Chanyeol doesn’t want to take it as a bad sign. Only a little. The thing about the ice Minseok makes, also the water Joonmyun makes, is that they shouldn’t melt, break down or evaporate under normal conditions.
“Ice melts in this weather. It’s normal. It’s very normal.” He says to himself or more to Jongdae, who’s gone even quieter it’s unsettling. “Ready guys?”
It’s not like he wants to be ambushed as soon as he destroys Minseok’s ice door. Yet Chanyeol’s not expecting it to be quiet on the other side either when the wooden door falls over.
Then a cherry bomb (one of his own, damn it, damn it) rolls into the freight hold’s entrance. Chanyeol pushes both Jongdae and Yixing behind him. The explosion only manages to singe his tie, some of his bangs, and the skin off his nose.
“Brute freaking force it is.” Chanyeol shouts, running inside, not waiting for the smoke to clear. One thing Chanyeol’s very grateful for, despite his singed nose and the fact that these people managed to get their grubby hands on their weapons, is that cult members with little or no training in holding firearms can’t aim for shit. Because Jongdae sure wasn’t lying when he said that the whole freight hold was full of them.
He hears Yixing’s rifle go empty only a few minutes into the fight. Jongdae’s relying on his hands and giving every black-robed creepo a shock to the heart. Some hired thug gets lucky and hits Chanyeol in the shoulder, but he’s already burnt to a crisp by the time he hits the ground. Fifteen. No, twenty-five. Most of the unexperienced ones get caught in the crossfire, joining the growing number of bodies on the floor, grievously injured or dead. Still. It’s a lot.
They hear a distinct sound of gunfire going off from a distance.
“Jongdae! Ya!” Yixing shouts, Chanyeol looks up, and Jongdae’s disappeared. Jongdae should be the more levelheaded one among them. Jongdae shouldn’t be rushing off alone since they don’t know what else is waiting for them outside this freight hold.
Chanyeol grabs the machine gun from some dying cult member grabbing his ankle. He takes Yixing by his coat sleeves and goes to follow his friend out the door.
Re: wc!au: team chen - baccano au part part 4
(Anonymous) 2014-07-24 12:00 am (UTC)(link)Re: wc!au: team chen - baccano au part part 4
(Anonymous) 2014-07-24 12:05 am (UTC)(link)MOD: 1659 words
(Anonymous) 2014-07-23 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)