orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class: 
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 4, 2022 14:14:51 GMT 9
The sun slowly sunk below the horizon over hell on earth, also known as Nevada. It'd been a blistering scorcher of a day in the perpetual summer that is and will always bee Las Vegas, the city of sin truly earning the ire of god who would constantly bake the land with blistering heat, batter it with unceasing wind, and then make it the neighbor of California. Truly an inescapable hellhole, and home to one Orion Cayge. Our lovely would be shonen protagonist was currently laying comatose in his bed, swimming in a puddle of his own sweat as his shitty low thread count sheets clung to his form. His face was adorned with his DIVE rig, a VR headset created custom by his cousin Vinnie who'd owed him several favors after he'd introduced him to his highschool crush, and with a little bit of coaching, got his dick sucked behind the bleachers during homecoming. The lights flickered slightly as data flowed too and from the world wide web, filling the mans "dreams" with all sorts of wild scenes of violence, debauchery, and anime titties. Above him, the ceiling fan whirled lazily, not through any volition of its own, but through the slight draft of wind blowing through the open window. Faint rap music wafted in, no doubt being played at an unreasonable volume several blocks over, much to the chagrin of everyone nearby, but alas, Orion was still asleep. That is, till the clock struck 9. As if the very action of the hour changing was some sort of spell, the room began to whir to life in a flurry of events. Step one, some tasteful music began to play through the speaker sitting atop the night stand aside his bed. Step two, the light on the headset flickered off and Orion's hands clumsily and groggily groped for his headset as he sat up. Step three, the man let out a loud groan, somewhere between pain and existential dread as he peeled the visor from his face and examined his surrounding. Step four, rolling out of bed he would rise to his feet and begin a complex series of stretches, each carefully selected for maximum muscle tuneage. Finally, he would stomp into the adjoining bathroom and shower, peeling off his sweat soaked pjs (a gray wife beater and gymshorts) and dousing himself in icecold water. Once he was awake and clean, he would exit his shower, dress himself in another pair of gym shorts and a loosely fitting tee before grabbing his phone and glaring at it, as if willing texts to pop across the screen. After a minute, one would appear. Followed by a Venmo notification for a hundred dollars. "FUCKING SCORE." Orion hissed, pumping his fist. "That's booze money right there!" "RIOOOOOOOOON" A voice called out from beyond his door. "I HEAR YOU SHUFFLIN ROUND IN THERE! COME ON OUT AND GET SOME 'ZA FORE IT GETS ANY COLDER!"
|
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 13, 2022 20:12:24 GMT 9
Orion shuffled over to his door and opened it with his right hand, but rather than push it open he simply walked into it, smacking into the psuedo wood with his shoulder and out into the small chamber adjoining. To call Orion's abode a house would be correct at a technical standpoint, but perhaps an insult to houses everywhere. It consisted of two small bedrooms (each with their own bathrooms however small they may be) adjoining one "big" living room/kitchen combo. It was cozy, utilitarian, spartan, and all the other fancy euphemisms for shitty one could think of. The flooring was ancient shag carpeting that was in desperate need for a mowing and deep cleaning, the walls were an ugly shade of beige, and the windows were stained over from years of cigarette smoke on the inside and caked with dust on the outside.
Home Sweet Home.
Orion's Father Troy, a large brick house of a man with shaggy brown hair and a beard that hadn't been trimmed since Orama had been killed, sat in his usual Lazyboy recliner, legs up and covered in greasy sweatpants and his feet covered in what were once pink slippers. The whole thing would have seemed sad to anyone else, on first glance it would appear that he used to take good care of himself, bulging muscles were quickly disappearing under flabs of pale fat as the mans green eyes stared blankly into the TV screen. For Orion, this had been his life for as long as he could remember.
"There's some Za on the counter" the man would grunt, pointing with the hand his beer bottle was in, sloshing it ever slightly.
"Thanks Pa." Orion would chime back, trudging a few steps into the "Kitchen" which consisted of roughly enough space for him to stand surrounded by a fridge and oven and the barest amount of counterspace physically possible. His blue eyes scanned the surfaces, playing a time honored game of "which one of these fifteen pizza boxes is the recent one" success would reward him with fresh, delicious, Za. Failure meant potentially opening a biohazard of mold that could kickstart another resident evil game.
"Its the one on top of the oven stack" Mr Cayge grunted, spoiling Orion's fun "Pep and saus my man, courtesy of Uncle Joe's"
"Thanks pop." The young man managed to retrieve himself two slices, shoving one into his face hastily as the other one dangled limply in his hand. "Ny maul com muh wae?" He asked, mouth 3/4s full of lukewarm dough sauce and cheese.
"Nah," The giant replied taking a swig of his beer. "But the Landlord was bothering me bout rent. Thought you said you paid him already?"
Orion paused mid chew and squinted for a moment. "Tho I di." He grunted, chewing a little more before swallowing. He hastily scarfed the rest of the slice down, freeing a hand he could work his phone with. Wiping his greasy hand on his pants, he retrieved his lifeline to all things digital and unlocked it, swiping a few errant twitter, insta, and Discord alerts as he fetched up his email. "Yeah, I did, I have the receipt right here in my inbox, I'll stop by and check with him on my way to the gym."
"Atta boi, thanks. I'll get you my half when Unemployment hits." The man droned, eyes never leaving the screen. "Did you hear by the by?"
"Hear what?"
"The bois on the news are sayin that Orama aint dead just hiding" Orion rolled his eyes and chuckled as he took another bite of his pizza. "Oh yeah, who're you watching pops?"
"I'm watching Joe Tucker on Infostorm."
"Aint he the one who said that VR deep dive was created by the Devil to turn impressionable young people into degenerates addicted to VR Porn?" Orion asked, taking another bite.
"No, he said that the CEO of Vive who designed the Hypnosphere, was a Satanist who went to leatherclubs."
"Gotcha. So they say Orama isn't dead."
"Yeah, they say he faked his death so he could play videogames and bang hookers all day."
"Ah. Well I'll let you know if I run into him on any of my adventures."
"Give em what for! Fuckin rat bastard spending our tax dollars on bullshit."
"Don't you..." Orion paused. "Don't you just use your unemployment for rent and booze?"
There was a long pause.
"Alright, ya got me there."
"So wouldn't Orama just be like...on unemployment?"
"Shit," the man took a swig of beer. "I guess so."
"Hasn't he, heaven forbid he survived, earned the right to videogames and hookers?" Orion finished his Za while leaning against the counter and retrieved a third slice, this time sliding on socks and a pair of beat to hell grey nike sneakers.
"He was only president for eight years though!" The man protested.
"He was a senator before that, and did you see how fucking gray he got during those eight years?"
"Hrrrm."
"You gotta remember, black don't crack and that dude fucking CR-ACKED."
"You gotta point Rion." The man broke his gaze from the tv to turn and look at his son for the first time in their ten minute conversation. "How'd you get so fuckin smart eh? Didn't come from me, I'll tell ya."
Orion, adjusting his shoes, would take a few steps and plant a kiss on the top of his dads head. "You're plenty smart pa, and you taught me a lot growin up that they don't teach ya in school. Between you, Uncle Joey, Auntie Lou, the Southside crew, and our shit ass school system I got enough knowledge to count for like...ten college degrees."
"Atta boi." The man smiled, his eyes lighting up for the first time. "Hey, you had fights tday eh? Howdya do?"
"9 Wins and 1 Loss." Orion replied with a smirk.
"What happened on the L chief?" His father's brow furrowed and his gaze narrowed. "Cayge's aint loosers."
"It was one of those fucking gimmick fights with a weird map and all these fucking items like laser swords and powerups scattered around." The older man rolled his eyes.
"Oh fucking comon, people still run with items in this shit? Everybody knows da best fights are just two dudes in a ring kicking the living shit out of eachother, I tell you what this VR thing is ruining fights with all the bullshit spectacle."
"Keeps things fresh and the organizers tend to pay a lil better because they can afford the assets in the ring." Orion shrugged. "You need anything while I'm out tho? Cigs, booze, lunchmeat?" Orion asked, rattling off the essentials. "I'll grab somethin on my way home."
"I'm good, tho stop by Joeys on they way home and thank him for sendin the Za over. I'd send him a text but you know Joey, he fucking hates phones."
"Aight." Another kiss on the top of the man's shaggy mane for good measure. "Imma deal with the landlord, run to the gym, and then swing by Joeys, anything else?"
"Nah I'm good." The man replied, returning his gaze back to the screen, light fading from his eyes as he took another swig from the bottle.
"Need another beer pops?"
"Nah." He shook his head. "You're burning day- er, nightlight kid."
"Aight, Love ya pops." Orion tussled the mans hair and made for the door.
"Love ya too kid," He droned back. "Drive safe."
And with that, Orion was off.
|
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 13, 2022 21:50:25 GMT 9
Orion stepped out into the still baking heat of Nevada, despite the sun being long sunk over the horizon the land was still radiating warmth from it like an oven after pulling out a digiorno pizza. Some loud music thumped in the distance, some of the local shitbox cars to rattle slightly in time with each pulsing beat of the music as subwoofers roared. Streetlights were just starting to flicker to life, and some of the boldest of children were still out and about playing and scampering about as they desperately tried to squeeze in a few more minutes of childlike wonder out of the evening before stern parents would beckon them inwards and to baths, bed, or beyond. The young man popped a pair of earbuds in and began walking down the street as he started his walking playlist. He had a car, but parking was so fucking god awful in this townhome complex that if you left a spot you were likely to not have it when you got back. The end result was that most people who kept the sort of hours Orion did ended up having to park in a large open field by the Management Building, which he didn't mind most nights given that he'd literally just spend eight hours in a vegetative state beating the shit out of people for money. A blip on his phone brought his mind down to the screen, where now four venmo payment notifications were waiting. With those, plus the one he'd already received, he was up about 400 big ones. Some of the fights'd had a smaller pool, but he could compensate that with the sheer number he could squeak out in a day. He didn't need any physical recuperation between bouts, and he rarely needed time to mentally decompress from fights unless he lost a deathbout and was pushed as close to the edge of simulated death physically possible without killing him, but those were few and far between and the sheer amount of money you made win or lose compensated for the loss of time. He looked up from his phone and scanned the surrounding buildings, eyeing the shadows between shacks for anyone up to no good. Such incidents were rare, but not out of the question.
Out here in the Edge anything was possible.
You see, in the year of 20XX, Las Vegas set aside an astronomical amount of tax money in order to renovate the suburbs of the city. The plan was to keep the core of the city this wonderful playground of sin and debauchery for tourists and high rollers, but also to create a larger, more stable population on the outskirts that would bring in a more reliable source of taxes. They were gonna call it the Edge of Eden, paradise before the city of sin. This money was immediately either embezzled, misappropriated, misplaced, or funneled into the pockets of anyone who was friends with the politicians in charge in the form of porkbarrel political kickbacks. The idea was to create a suburban paradise, the end result was much like most times the government ever tried to spend money to improve things, an absolute fucking slum that barely functioned at first. Orion could vividly remember going days without the house having access to water or electricity when he was little, the constant raiding for supplies and such, the amount of bruised knuckles, bloody lips, and scraped knees he'd gotten defending what was his. The whole Cayge Clan had rolled in looking for better lives, and when things went sideways they did what Cayges do best, double the fuck down and dig their heels in. Eventually a whole bunch more money was flung at the problem, and while a vast majority of that was ALSO embezzeled, the little that did manage to trickle through made the outskirts more...palatable.
It was during this time the Southside Crew had formed, not technically a gang or a mafia since they didn't ACTIVELY do anything illegal, it was more a loose federation of local clans conglomerating together to pool their resources and thrive. You had the Cayge Clan, headed by Uncle Joey, eldest son of James Cayge and older brother to Oryon's father. You had the Mackies, a bunch of rough and tumble Seattle transplants fleeing the conflict only to find more trouble, headed by Donald Mackie, or Big Mac as everyone called him. Big Mac had married his Aunt Lou, had like five kids with her before coming out as gay in his late 40's. They're still together since the Cayge family didn't believe in divorce, but Big Mac was kinda a big deal in the local LGBT community, and while she wasn't out, Orion had a sneaking suspicion about his Aunt. The whole debacle had been a big deal for a little bit, but the Southside crew had too much love in their hearts, and a burning hatred for all the other cocksuckers in the region to let that happen. The last clan in the Crew was the Espinoza-Salvador-Picante Clan. Formed by a Hispanic polycule mysics, the three heads of the clan smashed their last names together to spell out ESP. His "tios" as they made him call them, Gianni, Ismarelda, and Olivia, were some of the most eccentric people he'd ever met. Occasionally they would read his palm and come up with outlandish claims about his future, things like "You will travel to another world and be a hero for those who don't truly exist" or "You should invest in Doooooogecoin. It's like Dogecoin but the blockchain is longer." All of this was to say that the whole southern block of the Edge was his home turf, and anyone who was anyone knew who the fuck the Cayges were, which was all the more upsetting when Oryon found himself banging on his landlords door.
"OI." He yelled, "Hanz open the fucking door!"
There was a long pause before he could hear shuffling and the light telltale creak of the older man leaning on the door to peer through the peephole. There was a long pause. "Rion, watcha want eh?" The man called through the cheap wood.
"Open the fucking door!" He scowled. "Just tryna talk."
The taletale click of a deadbolt announced the man unlocking his door, and soon it swung open to reveal a man in his late 30's, maybe early forties in his boxers and a wifebeater. His head was shaved and waxed, his upper lip sported a mustaches curled and waxed like an old spaghetti western villain. His arms were covered with all sorts of tattoos that ran the gamut from Neo Nazi symbols to Scoobydoo smoking out of a bong. One hand gripped an aluminum baseball bat, which would have been intimidating but Orion had two feet in height on the man and his wrist was thicker than the widest part of the skeletal mans arms. The ghoulish german man stared daggers at the goliath standing over him, defiantly the David in this situation clutching his aluminum sling like it would make any difference. This simply elicited a raised eyebrow from Orion.
"Yeah? You got a bat? Going out to crush some homers at the batting cages or sommin?"
"Never know when hoodlums like you turn up in the middle of the night." The man growled, brandishing it a bit. "Whatcha need kid?"
"Why's my pops telling me you were bothering him bout the rent? I squared up with you a week ago and have the E-receipts to back it up." To illustrate his point, Orion held his phone aloft and gave it a bit of a waggle, mimicking the motion of the mans bat.
"Your account is still in the red." Hanz sneered. "I had to have the guys come back to fix the plummin."
"Fix the plumbing?" Orion raised an eyebrow. "We put that fucking ticket in three months ago and you never sent anyone. My cousin Jaime ended up bringing his boys over and worked on it. I paid em in booze n tacos."
"Well I sent Roscoe over there on the third and he says he fixed it, billed me and everything. Moral of the story is you owe me another three hundred." Orion clenched his free hand as jaw set tight.
"Three fucking hundred? Are you fucking shitting me! You better call Roscoe up and get your fuckin money back cause that sack of shit's never so much as been on my front step let alone done three fucking hundred dollars of work on a fucked water heater." The young man took a step forward, but was met with a bat to his chest as Hanz held him at legnth.
"Listen here punk, I got the paperwork sayin Roscoe came by and thats that. You can either pay it or get a fucking lawyer to contest it, otherwise Im gonna have eviction papers on your door within the week." The skeleton sneered, "And lord knows you and your deadbeat fucking d-" Orion ripped the bat from the mans hand, flung it an easy fifty feet to his left and snatched the mans collar in one fluid motion, ripping him into the air off his feet.
"YOU KEEP MY DADS NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH." Orion howled into his face, spit and hot breath washing over the man like one of his cyndiquils flamethrowers.
"I'll fuckin call the-"
"The cops?" Orion growled, glaring daggers at him. With one swift motion he threw the man back into his apartment, "You're not gonna do fucking shit. You're gonna pick your boney ass of the ground, dust your shit off and go talk to Roscoe about the three hundred he scammed you."
"Oh- oh yeah...?" The man whimpered slightly as Orion crossed the threshold into his home to tower over him.
"Yeah." Orion replied, squatting down to match the mans gaze. "And by the by, my lawyer IS gonna come swing by later and give you a nice talking to about things like tenant rights n shit, and so help me god if this shit happens again you'll be talking to more than my fuckin lawyer, ca-fucking-piche?" The man cowered violently as Orion rose to his full height. "Oh yeah, which fucking Unit you got that piece of shit Roscoe in?"
"K..." the man paused, struggling to get the words out. "K-9 Please...don't hurt him. He's my brother in law..."
"Jesus dude." Orion raised an eyebrow. "We're gonna fucking see if he needs some help with maintenance calls, not hurt em. You're a douchebag leech who deserves no pity and never worked an honest days work in my life, but him? He's blue collar just like the rest of us. A broken bone could ruin him, but you," Orion waggled an eyebrow. "You can afford a couple fingers if you mouth off to the wrong people."
And with that Orion was back off into the night, striding down cracked pavement towards his car, whistling jauntily despite the fact his arms were still shaking and his blood was still boiling. How fucking dare that fucker say shit about his dad, piece of fucking shit. He was just on some hard times, things hadn't been the same since mom left, he aint been right. It didn't matter, Orion would make enough for both of em and then some. He'd make enough to get em out of this shit not trailer park run by Hanz the Neo Nazi, he'd dump a fuckload of money into Uncle Joes shop and turn it into a chain, Big Mac was gonna get that nightclub on the Strip he dreamed of, he'd buy the dip on Doooooogecoin and put the ESPs on the fucking moon.
Him and his kin were going to make it, come hell or high water. |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 14, 2022 9:09:26 GMT 9
Orion found himself cruising down the streets of the Edge at a leisurely pace in his beat up El Camino. His gramps had performed some automotive necromancy on it a lifetime ago and now it rocked on pure spite and Cayge ingenuity. The AC was shit and it would have rocked gas had his cousin not wangjangled the whole engine block and fuel lines to hook it up on that Corn shit that his cousin produced and horded like they were a can of beans and the nukes were about to drop. The radio system had been stolen and replaced more times than Orion could count, but it didn't matter cause it was his and it was freedom. Nothing beat the streets at this time of night, though the sun had barely been down for more than an hour, most people had already made like a tree and fucked off. Nothing good ever happened on the streets of the Edge this time of night, but nobody had the balls to fuck with him or risk the ire of the largest group of ass beaters this side of sin.
The Southside Crew was all legit, mind you. No drugs, nothing illegal, no racketeering or nothing, just a fistful of legitimate businesses that worked together when they were making money, and sunk together when times were tough. Almost a hundred strong in just family, give or take another two hundred when you added in friends, lovers, and associates and hangers on. It was a life raft in an otherwise turbulent ocean, a candle in the dark, a tall sturdy tree during a torrid downpour. It was home, and everything Orion ever knew, its creed carved deep into his very core. Offer a helping hand for those in need, and fist for those who would forsake your charity.
Unlimited kindness, zero forgiveness.
Stopped at a light, he glanced to his right to a nearby 7/11, a bastion of neon lights in the dark town. A young man pumped gas into his beat to shit pick up truck, an elderly woman sat in her car patiently waiting with a cigarette dangling limply from his lips whilst she waited for a woman in her forties, family maybe, to step back out with lotto tickets and more cigs. Three scantily clad women sat on the corner, knees up to demonstrate their wares of varying quality, each clad in tacky tightfitting leggings of some shape or size to accentuate their form. One of them looked his way and blew Orion a kiss, who simply replied with a smirk and a waggle of his fingers from the wheel. Red gave way to green, and his foot grew heavy on the gas as he powered forward into the night.
...
Uncle Joes was the uh...restaurant for the surrounding part of town. There was the occasional Mc Donalds or Burger King, and sporadically your ma and pa diner would pop up and die faster than you could say "Who the fuck has money to eat out in this economy." Joes was a beacon of hope, growth, and a place for families to gather. Growing up it was THE place to have your birthday, with decent Pizza, unlimited fountain drinks, ash trays on the patio for ma and Pa, and the crown fucking jewel, a rather large side room filled to the fucking gills with old arcade games. Ancient CRTS flickered in dim light as titanic toads beat the fuck out of bad guys, scantily clad warriors dueled out in Deadly Kombat, and orange circles popped molly to repetitive music. Ancient ramps stood against the sands of time, ever ready to propel spheres into goals, and towering pillars of clear plastic and flashing lights stood ready to slam cheap plastic balls into a rotating holes. Joe stocked the shit with real paper tickets, and the whole thing ran on ancient tokens minted on...something? Not quite metal, not quite plastic, the whole thing was held together by that ancient Cayge gumption and stubbornness. Joey Cayge was obsessed with the ancient art of the Cade, and he worked his clever necromancy on plastic, silicon, and copper alike as he and his kin toiled like the bastard spawn of Geek Squad, Grease Monkeys, and Gordan fucking Ramsay.
How he'd managed all of this was considered one of the wonders of Southside, the building a mangled mess of his aggressive expansionism, one building earned enough money to cop the next hut over, which would then be adjoined with some unholy bastardization of additions, plywood and tarps. The whole thing as it rose up was an abomination to behold, now it was...palatable. Threats from the inspectors had put the Cayge Patriarch to work on getting his shit to code and by the time Orion had turned twelve the whole thing could pass a Health AND Safety inspection without even having to bribe anyone. That didn't stop certain idiosyncrasies from keeping into the buildings design. It boasted not one, nor two, or ever three main double door entrances, but a whopping 7. Each opened up to a massive dining room filled with mismatched flooring and various light fixtures mounted to the walls and dangling from the ceiling. No single table was alike in shape, size, and height, and each were topped with a unique laminated tablecloth sporting various patterns and colors. It was...chaotic to say the least, and the chicanery didn't stop there. Various patches of the walls were covered in different colors of paint, patched over with peeling wallpaper, and various shades of exposed brick and drywall. The game room was in the back, to the left of the kitchen which was basically the size of a small studio apartment at this rate, and boasted dimmed blacklights, casino carpeting depicted starry galaxies, and neon lamps affixed to groovy purple wallpaper. Stepping inside, a small bell chimed in a shrill C# and Orion could feel about 7 pairs of eyes dart to him as a woman opened her mouth to greet him before pausing and grininng.
"AYYYY." The Uncle Joes staff cried out in a cacophonous harmony.
"AYYYY." Orion cried out, holding his arms out as if to hug everyone in the room with telekinesis.
He was home, well not home, but the closest thing beside the place he kicked off his boots and snoozed. |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 15, 2022 14:34:51 GMT 9
Depending on the time, day, and alignment of the stars upwards of twenty people could be on deck working at Uncle Joes. It was the place to be here in Southside, but it was late and most of the staff had gone home, leaving only the core crew. Auntie Linda, Joes wife, was sitting at an octagonal table covered with a plastic tablecloth covered with cats, which was unofficially her spot. Her long red hair hung in braids that hung in front of her face, framing her blue eyes and pale skin. Her smile could light the depths of the Mariana Trench, a weapon that she wielded indiscriminately to woo the hearts of friend or foe alike. How Uncle Joey had managed to woe this Valkyrie into marrying him was a question left unsolved to science and mystics alike, but she sat in the dining room serving pizza and soda to the poor and hungry rather than the glorious souls of Valhalla.
Among the serving staff remaining were Brenda and Brinda, a pair of twins with rather uncreative parents. One of them (Brenda) had platinum blonde hair she always kept up in a ponytail, whilst the other (Brinda) had dyed her hair a radical neon pink and sported a pixie cut and a pierced septum. Both of them were white, but not like Orion's white where he was some sort of mutt of various European ethnicities that probably all hated eachother, these two were like purebread showdog white. The type of person you imagine when you think of happy suburban family, the type of gal you spot in college brochure, or maybe the perfect extras to a highschool drama shot in california. It made them stand out like a sore thumb from most southsiders, and it oft caught them a lot of flak from others who presumed them to be some rich snooty bitches who thought they were better than others. The truth was their parents died in the Seattle fighting and came to live with their grandmother who worked for Uncle Mac, they were every bit southside as the rest of em, but did a lot to try and preserve what little bits of their old life they could cling to. They didn't need to work, but tips scored here helped them buy smokes and buy shoes, so they made do. Back in the day boys from their school used to hang around and gawk, but few had the balls to actually ask them out.
"Hey Rion." Brenda called out from her seat. "The usual?"
"Nah, Joey sent a pie to the place, I ate before I came." Orion replied walking by and flashing her a smile.
"Glass of pib then, no ice?" Brinda asked bending over to bus some dishes left over from a recently departed table.
"Tempting." Orion replied walking by and giving her rear a playful smack. "But I'll pass."
"Oi," Linda protested. "Hands off the staff!"
Brinda gave Orion a playful wink as he made fingerguns at her. "Sorry, couldn't help it, it's like walking by a bag of rice at the store." Brenda rolled her eyes, and his aunt gave him a slight glare. He and Brinda, or Rin as she liked being called, had a bit of an on again off again relationship that started with an awkward makeout sesh behind the pacman machine at the age of 13 and had most recently ended when she had voiced her incredible distaste on his current career path. According to the math from his egghead cousin eddy, the over under on them being back in bed together by December was a solid 75% chance.
"A smoke then." Speak of the Devil, Eddy was sitting along the backwall with several tills pulled from the register counting the money with a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. He had his mother pale skin and red hair, but all of his dads looks, the end result was a chubby ginger dwarf with greasy slicked back hair. He currently wore a grease stained white tank top and a pair of black slacks that looked like jackson pollock had been practicing with pizza sauce. The resident chef, money man, and problem solver Eddy was the second in charge to the big man himself, and while he wasn't very imposing when he glared at you down his coke bottle glasses, he had one hell of a right hook and could dunk on men twice his height.
"I mean, if you're offering." Orion swooped by the table and bit onto the filter of a cigarette being offered from the carton. Eddy pulled the box back and slid a lighter across the table to his cousin in a practiced motion. "Though not why I'm here." He continued scooping the lighter up and giving it a few flicks before raising it to his mouth and inhaling as he lit and relished in that first puff bliss. "Where's the old man?" Orion asked sliding the lighter back and scooping up an empty ash tray to carry with him. Joey and Linda didn't give a fuck if you smoked inside, but HEAVEN FORBID you ash on their floor.
"Pop's in the back." Eddy grunted as he thumbed through a stack of twenties. "Miss Pacman is being a right bitch right now, something bout the fucking token acceptor not crediting the game right."
"Thanks. Good day for business?" Orion asked as he glanced at the cash. "And did he check the wire harness? Rat mighta nibbled a cord."
"Eh," Eddy replied. "We broke about even it looks like, though." he will look up to Orion, a grin spreading across his lips. "A certain someone made me some fucking money today. Good fucking work at Palio's Fight Night. The third round KO on AssMaster99 netted me a cool 300 bucks AND shut up the fucking goon ToeGoblin. He'd been talking mad shit ever since you beat him two weeks ago calling it a fluke."
Orion grinned and gave his cousin a clap on the shoulder. "Damn dude, you made more money on that fight than I did. Also, fuck both of those goons, they're not worth the fucking bandwidth they use to shitpost."
"Shit, Palio's a cheapass?" Eddy raised an eyebrow.
"Nah, it wasn't a pain match so the prices are pretty low. Any asshole can pop on a model and go throw hands."
"Yeah, but not any asshole can throw em like you do." Eddy shot back.
"Thanks boss." Orion clapped him on the shoulder and took a few steps back.
"I don't get why you gotta fight at all." Rin complained as she walked past with a bus tub filled with red plastic baskets and plastic cups.
"That's what I'm sayin!" Linda added, shouting from across the room. "Rion you could just work here again! You and Eddy were the best managers we've ever had!"
Eddy and Orion exchanged a look, but Orion simply shrugged. "Look, if fightin doesn't pan out I can always come back. Yall n the shop aint going anywhere, but if I wanna make some fucking sick cash I gotta be willing to put in some work and deal with a lil pain."
"It'd be one thing if you were fighting in an actual ring." Rin called out as she set down the dishes in the kitchen, her voice echoing in from the other room. "But Eddy told me you did those V death matches. That's not just 'a lil pain' Rion."
This fact had been a thorn in Orions side for a while, and it elicited a glare to Eddy, who simply broke eye contact and went back to counting twenties.
"It pays the bills and puts zeroes in the savings." Orion replied.
"And you're willing to bring your mind to the edge of death over and over?" Rin asked, walking back over to the table to confront Orion.
"If it means that I can support my family and help give back everything that they've given me." Orion drawled. "I would lay my actual life down." He had to look to the floor, not being able to meet her green eyes giving him what he could only imagine were the saddest puppy dog eyes he could imagine.
"Ay ay!" Eddy barked, breaking the silence. "Actually dying is against the creed there Rion!" He set his money down and stabbed a chubby finger into his cousins chest. "Also when I finally become Mayor I'm gonna like, make it fuckin Illegal."
"Ah yes," Orion chuckled, ashing his cigarette into the tray. "Eddy Cayge, savior of the Edge, makes death illegal."
"You fuckin betcha."
"Well then, pops sent me here on official business better quick fuckin round." Orion replied giving Eddy another shoulder pat. He turned to the gameroom, still feeling Rin's eyes on his back.
"Give your old man a hello for me." Eddy added, scooping up a pile of tens. "Tell em to come on down sometime, I feel like we're sending zas to the crib more than he ever shows up."
"Will do." |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 15, 2022 15:32:53 GMT 9
The game room was loud like usual, filled with the cacophonous noises of about a hundred or more ancient cabinets all going apeshit with attract sounds. The discerning ear could hear the occasional "FINISH HIM" or "SHORYOOOKEN" punctuate through, though they were more often drowned out with the constant droning of "CRUUUUUUUUUISSSSSING BLAAAAAAST" Drop cables hung from the ceiling, keeping the floor clear of any tripping hazards and kept the wire clutter to a minumum. Despite their age, most of the games were kept in pristine condition, Joe had a retinue of family members charged explicitly with dusting and cleaning the games every morning before the store opened. Nary a mote of dust or crumb could be found on the floor or tops of any games, and not a single controller was sticky with candy or heavens knows what little kids managed to get on their hands. It was a miracle, only made possible by Uncle Joey and his Cayge magic.
Near the entrance was Donald, a skinny pizza faced pale skinned teenager slumped against the wall as he sat behind the token and prize exchange counter. He was the poor schmuck tasked with dealing with the hordes of kids trying to shove fistfuls of tickets into his face in exchange for plastic vampire teeth, army men, and various sugary candies. If you were truly determined and lucky, you might even win one of the big boi prizes on the back wall like the RC drone or deep dive VR set. Some of the regulars were getting close, but few had the determination to succeed. The kid looked him over and gave him a light nod, he knew of Orion by reputation, but was hired on after he'd left the biz to fight, so the two had only ever exchanged words whilst Orion was buying tokens or exchanging tickets for starbursts. Orion in turn gave him a nod, nothing crazy or affirming, but enough to at least say "hey dude, I see you."
A string of curses and swears punctuated the air, which would have been surprising given how loud it was, but knowing uncle Joey it was more surprising he hadn't heard them in the other room. Closing the gap, Orion found the Cayge Patriarch hunched over the open back panel of the offending Miss Pac-man cabinet, LED flashlight comically clamped between yellow teeth. Much like Eddy, he was short, chubby, but had massive hands. His hair was brown with streaks of gray kept perpetually slicked back with what Orion could only imagine was pizza grease. Wearing a red polo and tan golf shorts, and what appeared to be knock off designer shoes, the man gave off the appearance of wealth, all held together by the gold chain he kept around his neck. He was a walking talking Italian stereotype, but he was family and when his mom went MIA and his dad lost his shit, Joey had been there for him helping every step of the way.
"Eddy says we got a fucked Token acceptor." Orion borderline shouted as he leaned up against the machine.
"EH?" The man grunted leaning out of the machine, blinding Orion as he looked to him. He spat the flashlight into his hand and squinted at Orion, who in turn was now sqiunting for entirely different reasons as his eyes readjusted to the dim room. "Oh, Rion, when da fuck did you get here."
"Just now!" Orion yelped rubbing his eyes. "I rolled up to thank you for the Za for my dad. It was a fucking masterpiece like always."
"Ah!" The man grinned giving his nephew a clap on the shoulder. "Least I could do. I had bets on three of your fights buddy, you're making me more money on your fights than the restaurant on slow days." Orion beamed, his face growing slightly red from embarrassment.
"Shucks Joe, you manage to catch any of em?"
"Nah, I've been at the shop all day, but Eddy showed me sommada highlight clips that V sent him. You're getting good on those fuckin mix-ups kid, that dip into a right is a fuckin killer. Footwork is a lil sloppy, but you get that shit down you're gonna be fucking them up in the ring and fucking their moms back home ya hear?" The man turned back to his machine. "If only I could figure out this bullshit."
"Mind if I look?" Orion asked glancing at the machine.
"Sure, hell if I could fuckin figure it out."
Orion ducked down and raised a hand out to his uncle. "Gimme your keys, the one with the N5000." He felt the veritable flail of keys land in his palm and without looking he managed to fish out the proper key and popped open a front hatch. He peered in, squinting slightly. "Light?" Unle Joe squatted down in a way that defied all physics given his physique and shone the light into the hatch.
"There's your fuckin problem." Orion muttered, reaching in and grabbing a loose cord. "Something tugged the fuckin harness."
"Mothafucker." Joe grunted. "Why the fuck didn't I think of that."
"You were looking for something bigger." Orion shrugged. "Start small, then work your way up."
"You're too smart for this fuckin town, you know that Rion?" Joe asked as they both stood up.
"I'm only as smart as you guys fuckin made me." Orion replied with a grin.
"Bullshit, we're a buncha fucking morons compared to some Einstein's like you and Eddy, not even starting with all those fuckin Macs and ESPs. Southside's gonna be in good hands when I fucking croak, I tell you what."
"Hey!" Orion gave the man a thwap. "Mayor Eddy say's dyins fuckin illegal, you hear?" Orion smirked.
"Get the fuck outta here." Joe wrapped an arm around the fighter, pulling him down low and driving a fist into his scalp for a playful noogie.
"Hey, I'm just repeatin what he told me." Orion replied worming out of his grasp. "For real tho, thanks for the Za, it showed up right as I got up. Means a lot to me and pop."
"Don't fuckin mention it." Joe replied with a smile. "You and your old man are fuckin blood, alright? Even if the business is going tits up I'm still gonna make sure you two are eatin somethin. Specially you," he gave Orion's abs a pinch. "Eat some leftovers, I got some breadsticks you can take home, you're too fucking skinny."
Orion swatted the offending grabbly hand away and chuckled. "I'm not skinny, I'm just fuckin cut, there's a difference. I'm all muscle baby."
"Well Muscle Baby," Joe rolled his eyes. "What're your plans for tonight? You got some time to help close out the kitchen with me and Eddy? Maybe go down to Mac's bar and shoot some pool?"
Orion bit his lip and pondered this for a moment and then shook his head apologetically. "I told Tio Gio that I was gonna go catch him at the gym, couple rounds sparing and then lift some weights, you know, the usual."
"Gah," the old itallian rolled his eyes. "You tell em just cause Doooooogecoin is up ten cents right now doesn't mean it's going to the fuckin moon."
"Shit, it's up ten cents?" Orion asked, eyes widening. "I bought a fuckload like two months ago, I might be up some cash."
"How much is a fuckload?"
"I think I dumped a hundo in for shits n gigs."
"Fuckin A Rion, at how much?"
"Penny a pop."
"Jesus Fuckin Christ kid, that's 10K Doooooogecoins, at 11 cents a pop you're up...a thousand bux."
"I'mma hodl a bit see if I can make it to a quarter, take it to the moon."
"Fuckin Dump it, it's a shitcoin."
"We'll see." Orion smirked. "Love you Uncle Joe,"
"Love you too bud."
With that, Orion gave his Uncle a kiss on the top of his head and made his way out of the game room, nodding once again to Donald who was checking his tinder account on his phone. The kid gave him a nod back, swiping right indiscriminately. Out in the dining room, things had thinned out. Brenda had vanished into the kitchen to do dishes, Eddy had just about wrapped up counting the bills and was dealing with stacks of coins. Linda was rolling silverware, while Rin was busy sweeping. He'd bid them each a fairwell, Eddy got some skin, Linda a kiss on the cheek, and Rin got an awkward pause as they looked at eachother and then decided they weren't talking for the moment. With all that taken care of, Orion was once again off to the races. |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 21, 2022 12:53:18 GMT 9
Landlord? Dealt with. Uncle Joey? Thanked. Money from the fights? All sitting pretty in his Venmo ready to cash out.
All in all, the night had been productive, and in all honesty it was just beginning. Studies showed that Deep Dive VR was almost as effective as sleep, some doctors (Who merely had studies funded by big VR, but weren't bought, they swore) had argued. Orion didn't know enough to argue, but he'd be replacing about four hours of his sleep with VR and he'd hardly noticed much of a difference. His fingers idly drummed on the wheel of his car as he cruised towards his next destination. Sure, maybe he was a little more irritable, but that was normal when you were living like he was. Diet consisting of protein shakes and Za, maybe the occasional cigarette or sports drink. The Money in his pocket wavered back and forth more than people's opinion online of celebrities' or millionaires. Mom gone, dad spiraling down a drain, your (ex?)girlfriend sickened by what you do.
He grimaced and slammed a hand on his thigh.
Fucking Eddie letting that slip had brought him nothing but hell, I mean sure he hadn't told him it was a secret, but he HAD told him that he was the only one who knew about the backroom games. That should have clued him in, he was fucking smart enough to know better, but Orion hadn't said shit specifically so it wasn't like he COULD blame him no matter how much he wanted to.
His grip on the wheel tightened.
And besides, what was there to be mad about? Rin was a nice gal, but it wasn't the first time they'd taken a break, and this wasn't the dumbest thing they'd fought over. Hell, she'd dumped him one time because he didn't vote her friend for Student President because the guy looked like a tool, or that one time he'd socked Barry Blington across the jaw for talking shit about one of his cousins. They'd been on, they'd been off, and it wasn't like she was the only woman he'd only been with, it's not like she was the love of his life, and it sure as fuck wasn't like he was gonna marry her.
So why did it hurt?
That was a wonderful question, one he'd failed to answer before and now echoed through the silence of his car once again unanswered. It wasn't like he couldn't walk into any of the local spots and score some numbers. If he wanted someone in his bed, he could have someone. But that wasn't the problem, hell if he wanted to nut he had his right hand or the whole of the Seedy backrooms of VR. He didn't want to bust a nut, and it was real hard to jerk your heart off.
HIs self reflection would soon be ended, saved by a proverbial beacon of Neon as he rolled up to "ESP's Punch-Out-Training Emporium." A decently sized concrete brick of a building with two large floor to ceiling windows made out of bullet proof glass, showcasing the hustle and bustle of people working out in the middle of the night. The sign flickered a light green, with some of the letters being out, but Orion paid the outages no mind as he pulled into a parking spot. He'd hardly had time to take the keys out of the ignition before the doors swung open, revealing a suave looking Hispanic man in his mid 40's, dressed in tight shorts and a black nylon short that clung to his lithe muscles. His face alone could have landed him a spot on some Latin Daytime soap opera, with a strong jawline and high cheekbones. His eyes were a light shade of blue, almost silver in the light. His hair was graying, but in a way that almost refined his looks. His face was clean shaven aside from an immaculately maintained goatee, his lips perked ever so slightly in a smirk.
"Mister Cayge." He crooned, taking a couple steps. "The spirits told me you were on your way."
"Uncle Joey text you eh?" He asked raising an eyebrow.
"The spirits of the land do not give me names." He replied stoicly. "They simply told me when you would arrive, and behold." He waggled his hands towards the seated youth. "Here you are 'brino."
"Good evening to you too Tio." Orion replied rolling his eyes as he stepped out of the car. "You ready to get started of have the stars not aligned favorably yet?"
"Give it about..." the man paused. "A few more minutes, we're about to change scenes in the grand play of destiny hombre." |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 24, 2022 7:17:22 GMT 9
Tio Gianni ESP, or Tio Gio as he liked to be called despite the lack of an O in his actual fucking name, was quite the character. He'd forced Orion to stand in silence outside the gym, waiting patiently for "the right moment" to come and for them to begin their work. That was Tio Gio for you in a nutshell, all about timing and understanding the signs the world was giving you. He'd spent his youth somewhere south of the border, specifics were never given, but the basic understanding was that he grew up dirt poor, not poor like American poverty levels, but the type of poverty that comes from years of exploitation from other countries leaving the land a veritable wealth desert. His family subsisted on the land along countless others left behind, a societal reversion back to primal tribal roots, and along those roots came a return to old spiritualism. He'd claimed to try hallucinogens at the age of 7, opening his third eye early and shattering the way he looked at reality. He would often go on vision quests to help him find solutions to his people's problems, and a great deal of people had turned to him for guidance. He was going to be the savior of his people, or so he thought.
It'd happened on a vision quest, he'd sought greener pastures for his family and was greeted with visions of a vibrant paradise of wealth and luxury buried in a desert far to the north. He came home and found his people butchered by bandits, or maybe drug traffickers, all he knew as that the men old enough to be press ganged to service were gone, the women pretty enough to be sold, gone, and all that remained were a feast for the crows. The spirits had saved him, but not his people, leaving only visions of paradise echoing in his mind whilst he wandered the hellscape.
Eventually he found his way to the Edge, wives in each arm, and a burning desire to build something for his bloodline. Southside had given him everything, and in a way he'd given everything up for Southside, and whilst he wasn't blood, he was family and Orion respected him deeply despite his eccentricities. Now the two were in the ring, four walls of rubber rope cordoning off a square of padded platforming for contestants to knock the shit out of each other "safely" on.
Tio Gio had met the family through Orion's father, who at the time was a rising boxing star in the world of IRL boxing. He'd joined his team as a trainer, and quickly rose up the ranks to coach, urging him to focus deeply on his basics and a higher focus on finding the right timing. Everything was about timing. Orion touched his ruby red gloves to Tio Gio's sapphire mitts, the signal to start their sparring. Orion immediately kicked his feet lightly off the ground in a quick hop backwards, watching a whoosh of blue whir past his face as his uncle immediately started with his offense.
The trick was timing, and knowing your enemy. Gio always went quick and fast.
His fists formed a wall in front of him, his first line of defense to block any strikes aiming for his ribs or face. It would be better to not get hit, but his opponent was much too fast for that. His eyes scanned the olive man before him, watching his body posture shift and change with every strike. He couldn't risk darting a glance to check his feet, that'd leave him open for an attack, instead he had to look for more subtle posture clues that would help him figure out his opponents plans. Tio Gio could see the future supposedly, Orion had to learn that trick without DMT.
He tried to work his feet quickly, keeping himself light on his toes to pivot out of the way of shots, sidestepping, backstepping, spinning, ducking, weaving, he was a flurry of motion as the assault continues, but his opponent was far better than anyone he'd faced IRL or in VR. He was certain Tio Gio could be a champion in the featherweight league, probably famous strapped up with sponsorships and promotional deals, fucker could have his own NIKE ad if he wanted to, but instead he ran this gym and pummeled Orion to oblivion and back, forging another generation of Cayge champions hopefully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, but was probably several minutes tops, Orion saw his shot. Tio Gio leaning into a heavy swing, his feet planted for maximum leverage against the ground. Orion ducked, watching the mans arm sail wide, and countered with an uppercut. His fist hit the suave mans jaw, and already he was reacting. His opponent hopped backwards, seeking to break the closeness they'd spent the last few minutes building, but Orion would have none of it. He kept a steady assault of jabs up, probing the man and his defenses as the ball was now in his court. He knew better than to go all out, boxing was a sport of immense physicality, but also endurance. A great deal of bouts went all ten rounds with no knock outs, only to have a judge score the bout and decide a winner. Sure, a KO was a clear win, but hard to achieve realistically. You needed to focus on outlasting your foe more than beating them down, a lesson he'd learned the hard way as a younger man.
Their dance would continue, back and forth, back and forth as they traded blows, taking turns on the offense and defense. Gio's blows were still lightning fast, but Orion was beginning to get a sense of rhythm to it, and as he got used to reading his uncle's posture, his adjustments came faster and faster, soon he was getting ahead of most of the blows, landing concise blocks when needed, and simply being absent from the blows when he could. He was beginning to feel cocky, and by the time he realized that it was too late. A left hook faster than a speeding Nissan clocked him on the jaw, and the entire world began to fade to black as his body tumbled to the mat. |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on May 24, 2022 7:52:56 GMT 9
"Rion! It's dinnertime!"
"Coming mom!"
In his defeat, Orion dreamed of happier times. When mom was still around, when they still had a house and not a shitty trailer. Back when the family would all convene at Casa de Cayge, one of the only Southside Crew residences outside of the Edge, Troy Cayge's wealth from boxing having wormed their way into the heart of the city. He could remember summers drinking pop by the pool with his cousins, he could taste the cherry popsicles, smell the burgers cooking on the grill as his dad laughed.
God his missed that laugh.
It would all shatter as the caustic scent of Smelling Salts would flood his nose, and Orion's eyes would flutter open once again to the world of the living. His pupils would dilate as harsh fluorescent light would beam down from above. He would cough slightly, instinctually sitting up, but a pair of hands would shove him back down.
"Oi, cabrón, sit the fuck still. Papa socked the shit out of you."
Orion squinted into the light, peering at the silhouette of a woman, Gabriella ESP, his cousin. She was out of all the ESP children (numbering 11 in total) the sportiest and the one who'd found a second home at her father's gym. Growing up she'd helped clean the place, re racking weight plates and wiping down equipment, and as she'd gotten older she'd evolved into a bit of a cardio bunny with a burning drive to keep herself in shape. She didn't much care for boxing, but she did care for her father and her family, and was often the one nursing broken noses and bruised ribs. She was the resident nurse of the gym, and often talked about maybe going and becoming an actual nurse should the money for her schooling ever shook loose.
"I'm fuckin fine Gabi." Orion protested trying to push her off oh him.
"Oh really? Then what fuckin day is it eh? You could have brain trauma."
"Not a fair question, I don't actually know what day it is most days unless its Friday."
"Okay then, where are we? How many days has it been since the last Friday? How many fingers am I holding up?"
"We're at the Gym, it's been like...fucking four days since last Friday, and you're holding up three fingers, please get off me." Orion groaned, finding the strength to push his doting cousin off of him and sitting up. "Where's Tio?"
"He's in the office doing the closing paperwork."
"Closing paperwork...?" Orion mumbled rubbing his head. "But the gym closes at 1..." He turned to look to his cousin, his eyes adjusting in the light. She was a latin goddess of beauty and fitness, abs you could grate cheese on, an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, and a figure most women would commit warcrimes for. Had she a shred of vanity in her body she could make a killing as an Instagram model. Her skin was olive, like her fathers, and her long brown hair kept up in a simple ponytail to keep out of her face. Her brown eyes were glaring daggers at him.
"Yes." She nodded in agreement. "The Gym does close at 1."
"I got here at 10!" Orion protested. "You're telling me I've been out for three fucking hours!"
"Two and a half." Gabrielle would reply curtly. "Papa told me to let you catch up on your sleep."
"I SPENT ALL DAY IN BED!" Orion growled, bolting to his feet. "I had a whole fucking weight lifting regimen I was supposed to get to!"
"Well now you have a recovery regimen to follow, you could have a concussion! You should avoid driving or any of your silly VR games for a few days."
"The fuck I will! I have fights booked online for the next few days!"
"Orion, you know I'm not a nurse so I cannot compel you but-"
"I love you to death Prima, but you know I'm about to ignore all of your advice unless Im bleeding to death, and no that is not an invitation to stab me."
"You are so fucking stubborn, just like Eddie."
"Runs in the Cayge Family."
"Oi, Brino!" Gianni's voice boomed over the PA system. "Big Mac needs your help down at the club, get your sleepy ass moving eh! Or do you need a right hook to even you out?" |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on Jun 7, 2022 15:53:04 GMT 9
Orion was back on the road, much to Gabi's dismay.
Big Mac was a big man, a towering ebony mountain of a motherfucker, so a call for help from him traditionally meant things were pretty bad. His pedal was glued to the floor of his car, reds were run, and traffic signs were treated like suggestions. His heart pounded, he'd no idea how long Mac had needed him, but he wasn't going to let it be much longer. He found himself approaching central, AKA Las Vegas proper. The closer you grew to the center city, the nicer things tended to look, they called this the shelf, because much like the coast, once you crossed Monroe heading south from Vegas, you'd fallen into the open ocean of the edge. Mac set up shop on the shelf, straddling two worlds with a bar somewhere between hole in the wall and dive. After what felt like an eternity, Orion screeched into the small parking lot of the bar, skidding to a stop in three open spaces. Tearing the keys from the ignition he burst out of his car and pounded across the pavement, fury in his eyes as he slammed his shoulder into the door, barely feeling it as it gave way.
He slid into the bar, bassy music thumping rhythmically as synthetic melodies danced over the airwaves. Glittering disco balls and strobing lights danced across his vision, making it exceptionally hard for his eyes to adjust to the dim light as he scanned the crowd. A few eyes had turned to him, but most hadn't even heard his entrance over the ruckus of the music. The DJ raised a mic to his mouth "ALRIGHT ALRIGHT PARTY PEOPLE! IT'S ALMOST 2AM SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! ALL THE LAME CENTER CITY FUCKS WILL BE FLOCKING HERE AFTER LAST CALL, SO GET READ FOR ROUND FUCKING TWO!" The crowd cheered loudly, some clapping, others hooting and hollering. Orion didn't have time for any of this, he pushed past a small group of drunk women, making his way to the bar, where much to his chagrin his Uncle was standing looking perfectly fine.
He scowled, stomping towards the bar, careful not to bump into anyone as he did so, you could never know who was going to get handsy.
As he approached, Big Mac looked up from the drink he was mixing and locked eyes with him, a grin dancing across his face. "Rioooon!" He have the shaker a little waggle in greeting as he expertly poured some craft cocktails for two dudes who were clearly eyefucking eachother the entire time. "Glad you could make it!" Orion made it to the bar and slammed both hands down on it loudly.
"Motherfucker, Gio made it sound like you were in trouble!"
Several guests jumped, a few people shuffled away from the scene, and Mac simply shot him a scowl. "Ay now, I don't control how Gio passes the message along so drop the tude young man. No bad vibes here." The man reached a large hand up to a sign he kept posted over the bar with that same message scrawled in neon rainbow lettering. Orion simply rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.
"What's up then?"
"Take a seat, lets talk." |
|
|
orioncayge
•
Bandana Guy
Round 2
Posts: 770
Trainer Class:
Arena Points: 20
|
Post by orioncayge on Jun 7, 2022 16:40:11 GMT 9
Orion found himself perched on one of Mac's rickety bar stools with a tray of peanuts and pretzels in front of him alongside a tumbler of Big Mac's signature "Seafoam Punch" a delightful yet sneakily potent cocktail consisting of -Three Shots of Rum -Mango Pineapple splash juice -A dash of blue curacao for coloration and flavoring
He idly bounced one foot up and down, still riled up from the scare his uncle had given him, but the man was family and it was hard to stay mad at family for long. Mac was pouring drinks left and right as he worked to keep the guests happy, he'd be one moment he'd swore about thirty minutes ago, but time was an illusion to Mac who was nearly fifty five but still looked to be in his prime. It helped his kept his head shaved and waxed, and his beard was an immaculate goatee that sported the barest hint of salt and pepper, but he called that his seasoning and part of his charm. He had a winning smile that could melt men and women alike, and over those thirty minutes Orion counted almost 300 dollars in tips going into the tip jar. Finally, Liandra, one of Macs protégés took over for him, and he found his uncle towering over him at the bar.
The fucker waited till I had a buzz... Orion mused to himself.
"I hear you've been doing those fucking death games."
God fucking damnit Eddie. Orion scowled slightly, raising his drink to his lips before answering.
"Who told you that?" He asked raising an eyebrow.
"I heard it from Lou, who heard it from Linda, who heard it from Rin, who heard it from Eddie."
"That's a pretty big game of telephone, you sure you're not havin your leg yanked?" Orion asked, lying through his teeth.
"Could be," Mac mused, snatching a pretzel from in front of Orion and popping it into his mouth. "But irregardless of the truth of the situation, let's jive about it Rion. Let us suppose we live in a world you have begun to...do these sorts of actions. Indulge me if you will."
"You mean regardless..." Orion interjected. "Irregardless isn't-"
"Quit the bullshittin Rion." Mac scowled. "And lets get to the point."
"Alright, jesus." Orion relented, raising his hands. "Let us suppose I play in some death games online to make some scratch. What of it?"
"Why and the god damn fuck would you do such a thing eh? It aint like you're hurtin for scratch, you're winnin fights left and right and if that didn't work out you could always get a job at Joe's or even better yet, here. The boys would fucking love you Rion, you'd be walking round with pimp cash in no time."
"Lets suppose that I wanted to make more than just...pizza money or bar tips." Orion began, swirling his drink nervously. "Or more than just some small pickins chicken shit E brawl money. Yeah, that pays the bills and shit, but like..." he paused. "What if I wanted more?"
"More like what eh?" Mac glared down at him.
"What if I wanted to be able to help build you an actual club or something..." Orion found himself mumbling.
"You're gonna need to speak up son, I can't hear you over DJ Harambe,"
"I said what if I wanted to help you get an actual club!" Orion growled, setting his drink down. "Or make Joe's a chain or something! Put pop in an actual house and not a glorified mobile home!"
"And what if that shit short circuits and scrambles you god damn brains Rion, huh?" Mac glared. "What if you get in too deep over your head and stuck in some fucked up shit."
"My rig is fucking checked thrice over before any of those game." Orion shot back, "And I keep a degree of secrecy. I have a guy who helps me arrange the shit."
"That's a real well thought out hypothetical cover there son." Mac raised an eyebrow. "Answer the god damn question. You saw what happened to your dad when your mom dipped, what the fuck do you think will happen if he loses you huh?" The man flicked Orion between the eyes. "Money aint worth the god damn trouble you stupid fuck. Listen here and listen well, I think it's real fuckin nice of you to be worrying about me and Uncle Joey, bet you got plans for Tio Gio and the crew too, I'm willin to bet if I picked your brain you've got some hair brained scheme to help out every fuckin member of Southside if you won the lottery, so let me bring you back down to earth for ten god damn seconds." The two locked eyes. "Southside's done some shit kid, we did some horrible shit before you were born so we could make sure that all of our god damn kids could have a better life than we did growing up. I get you wanna give back, you wanna help us out, but the fuckin truth is we did it all for you. We made sure you had clothes on your back, food in your belly, and an education in your fuckin noggin. Your job is fuckin simple, take those tools we put in your hand and do something with it to make sure when you've got lil ones runnin round they've got a great fucking life. That's how you pay us the fuck back, not bars and franchises. If you wanna make some real money with your talents, get with Gio and work on the live circuits and quit playin bullshit games, but I swear to fuckin god, you kaibosh this death shit right the fuck now. You need to make an honest god fearing living, not some sketchy underground shit." Orion blinked and the spell his uncle had woven over him with his rant was broken. The music faded back into his ears, the lights were back to strobing, and he could see a singular tear rolling down his uncle's face. "I fuckin love you Rion." The man's lip trembled. "I swear to god if I gotta bury you cause you were tryna be some sorta big shot I'm gonna fuckin lose my shit."
Orion found his gaze lowering to the bar, his hands idly drumming on the table. The same guilt that Rin had laid on his shoulders before was back, dragging him down, but now he could feel his uncle alongside her. He gritted his teeth, this was a way forward, a way he could help everyone. It was fucking safe, they'd run the numbers and put the failsafes in place, why could nobody see that? He took a deep breath, downed the rest of his drink letting the buzz chase away the guilt, and returned his Uncle's gaze. "I love you too Don, and I'm gonna do my fucking best to make you the proudest motherfucker on this earth. But I'm gonna do it the way I think is right, I'm gonna walk my own path and do it proudly. If its in the ring, at this bar, or scrubbing dishes for Joey I'm gonna do it my fuckin way. I respect and acknowledge your decisions, but don't sit here and tell me you did some shit to put me where I am and not expect me to want to return the favor. I owe fucking everything I got to you and the crew, to Joey, to my pop, Tio Gio, the whole god damn family. I'm gonna be safe, but Im gonna hustle till we've all made it. The next gen of Southside is gonna grow up in some beautiful fucking suburb in a whole world away from the Edge, and the hardships you and pop faced are gonna be scary stories you till the lil ones, I fucking swear."
Mac took a deep breath, held it, then let it loose in a long sigh. "Fuckin stubborn just like your old man. Fuckin fine, but you get one sign of trouble and you fuckin tell me. Anyone threatens you or someone around you and I fucking hear about it. Nobody touches family."
"Nobody touches family." Orion reached across the table and shook Macs hand, who gave it a vice like squeeze.
"You keep this up and you're gonna fuck up a good thing you got goin."
"I keep this up and I'll unfuck everyone's lives."
But at what cost, he wondered. |
|
|
