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Too strong!

Afro-sama yelled out as the spell struck him. He couldn't exactly jump out of the way while firing the minigun, as futile as that had been. This avatar was definately more powerful than the one he had destroyed before. Or perhaps he never destroyed it at all, and this was the same one, come back from the dead? Knowing him, that was probably true.

The energy sizzled through his bdy and he felt his life slipping away. He was a fool to think he could stand up to such power by himself... Suddenly, the hair pick in his afro shattered, and he vanished in a blink. When the smoke cleared, there would be no trace of him left.

~About 3 years ********! Stupid sonofabitch! I haven't run this much since ******** high-school gym. UGGH!”

The shouts of profanity and aggravated protests came in between quick breaths, huffs and sudden, hair pin turns through sparsely lit back alleyways, maneuvering through narrow spaces, past trash cans, dumpsters, discarded bicycles, and laundry lines draped with damp sheets from the previous day's rain.

What some might mistake for a shaggy vagrant, darted through the crowded back alleys and ducked and dodged with few troubles, the man's diminutive form gave him an advantage in that respect, while the 5'7” copper-haired hunter sprinting after him in chase, youthful features set into a firm scowl. Between the debris and the steam rolling up from the sewers, steam pipes and whatever else have you, her goggles were seeing a bit of use, shielding a pair of green-blue eyes. While she wasn't quite as small as her target, she was at least, lean and in optimal physical condition, her stamina being the only real thing allowing her to give chase like this.

However, it was wearing on her already characteristically thin patience and she wished this little b*****d would just wear himself out already. She was tired of playing tag. She hated stupid games.

And yet despite all her complaints, and grumbles, this particular femme enjoyed her job. Or more specifically, the thrill that came along with it.

Somewhere along the way, she could have sworn the b*****d was grinning like a fool, as if he was absolutely enthralled by making this hard for her, and honestly it would be no surprise. Most marks did. But this p***k was grating on her nerves, and the moment she stopped enjoying herself was a bad sign. Finally however, it seemed like she had gained some speed on him, as the distance between them was closing very quickly. Or she had at least, for a few moments until making a sharp left down the next alley. Combine with the slick ground, still drying from the evening rain and the lack of sufficient traction on her boots, the hunter lost her stable footing and her sprint turned into a slide, just barely colliding into the wall on her left with the corresponding shoulder.

s**t!

She verbally cursed with the sudden impact but she would have to live with the bruise it was bound to leave and keep moving.

It seemed luck was on her side however, as she neared the end of the alley, finding the target panicking before a particularly high wall in his way, much too high for his stupid a** to leap and climb right over. Finally!

”Heh. I'd like to see you get over THAT!” She stepped up, having cornered the male now, but when he made a move for something at his side, the steps halted there, and her eyes fell to his hand.
The grubby little man pulled out something long and silvery, only just barely spotting the serrated edge before he lunged at her.

Way to go. That was a sure fire way to get your dumb a** killed. Instinctively, her hand moved to her belt, quickly grabbing the smooth, elongated weapon that was nestled safely in one of the many loops, giving it a good twirl so the right side pointed upwards. As the little punk came at her, his knife more than visible now, the bounty huntress took a quick step to the side, just barely catching the blade's tip on a piece of her jacket, she sneered at the sonofabitch but she followed through with her next action, bringing the weapon down on the back of the male's head. If the little punk thought he was getting back up to get at her again after that, he could only be so lucky. However, satisfaction came in seeing him collapse to the dirty, damp ground, pain interrupting his world and rendering him helpless. The man was lucky his skull wasn't cracked...

"******** ******** she's fast!"

Well, that's what Kane thought to himself as he huffed and grumbled his way though building and alleyway, following the messy trail Ryke and the mark had blown throughout the pursuit. Screams, angry glances and curses followed him wherever he went, and it took all of his willpower to not lash out at the ******** distractions with the butt of his assault rifle. Not even his prodigious anger would allow him to shoot at the denizens of Aekea, though - even though he was loaded with a mag of rubber cartridges, that was asking for trouble that he didn't want at any cost. You didn't ******** around with a populace filled with more metas in a single block than you had bullets.

Back to the pursuit, to which Kane was steadily getting more and more pissed at. While his 6'4", 246lbs frame was huge enough to knock through just about anything, it didn't help it when that damn broad and the mark were zipping and zagging through just about every nook and cranny in the Goddamned sector. As he barreled through an ajar door - body checking a confused clerk out of the way who had gone to investigate the initial disturbance - he nodded with approval that the female bounty hunter was leading him into a spot filled with plenty of dead ends. Kane peeled around another corner to the right, nearly running into someone ********! Christ, Abe, watch where the ******** you are going!" Kane bellowed, the black irises of his eyes boring into the bald, somewhat misshapen mug of his second in command. Abe was shorter than Kane by nearly half a foot, but he was built even more heavily than he was and was less used than he was to all this weaving, which was apparent by his panting response.

"S...sorreh boss, wuh...won't happ'n again..." he groaned, bending over, shaking his head and looking like he was about to get sick. Kane spat a glob of mucous and spittle in disgust at the sign of weakness, ignoring the fact that he half did the gesture due to the build up of lactic acids in his chest.

"Damn right ya won't - now hurry the ******** up, we got a mark to bag. Also, where the ******** are Nate and Janus?" he growled back at Abe before resuming the chase, his legs pumping furiously. He almost didn't hear the man's wheezing reply about them getting split up earlier, to which he swore even louder.

However, a few sharp bends later, something finally brought a grin to the bounty hunter's ********' finally! God damn it, Ryke, warn us next time before you take off like some damned wight!" Kane lowered his assault rifle, clutching it in one hand while walking towards the scene. Upon getting closer, though, his good humors quickly took a trip down the shitter after noticing the pool of blood and the extended shock maul.

Cursing wildly, Kane threw his arms up in the air in pure anger. "******** ********! Ryke, did you kill the ********, because I swear..." he shouted, temples throbbing and teeth gritting loudly as Abe finally stumbled up to the scene. Things were looking pretty ugly.

Bitching and moaning was all that Kane heard coming from the female bounty hunter. Damn bitches were always annoying to deal with - only thing they were good for was sticking your d**k in them and beating a meal outta them. Business partners? Not so much.

The 33 year old hunter, growing more annoyed with her, held up his hand to put a stop to the bullshit, a vein on his forehead throbbing.

"Would you shut the ******** up, you noisy b***h? Dear ********!" he growled before stomping up to the floored mark. Bending down onto his haunches, Kane gingerly poked at the head wound and then pressed the fingers against his neck. After a moment he spat to the side and stood up, giving the butchy fem a pretty pissed glare - not the kind he had before, but still annoyed.

"You're damn lucky. Still tickin', but you cracked his damn brainpan. I'm all for messing the mark up if they resist, but now we have to treat the body like a damn VIP so we don't ******** spill his brains all over the place. Oh, and no, we didn't carry your damn piece - carry your own s**t." Kane glanced back to Abe and waved him over.

"Pack the asswipe up, but do it nicely, you ********. He's not gonna be waking up for a damn long time, that's for sure." He remembered last time Abe had tied some b*****d up - he dislocated the b*****d's arm. Didn't need the mark in any worse condition than he was now. Kane muttered under his breath and pulled a pack of Durems from his tac vest pocket. He pulled a cig out, lit it up with a lighter from a different pocket, and took a drag from it. He then glanced back at Ryke.

"Damn lucky, so you'll be getting your ten percent." Kane grumbled and turned around, scanning the alleyway behind him. Where the ******** were Nate and Janus?

Yeah, he knew this would have happened.

Cheating someone out on their "fair share" of a gig was always going to cause problems, no matter what profession you might be working in. When it came to the practice of bounty hunting, the fact that you risked your a** day in and day out to usually turn a measly profit that barely met the budget requirements to keep your armories stocked and your gear in acceptable condition meant that things could get extremely ugly. Fortunately, Kane had known this was gonna happen, and had planned for it.

There was more than simple laziness behind the decision to not lug Ryke's weapon along with them.

Getting a last drag from the cig, Kane threw it on the ground carelessly and gave Ryke a truly smug look. "Twenty? I'm pretty sure I heard ten, Ryke - what, with ya being a greenie to the pack and all. Ya heard the same thing too, right Abe?" he glanced back at his stocky compatriot, who flashed the female bounty hunter a grime-covered grin as he worked some zip ties on the mark's wrists, ankles, arms and legs.

"Not like ya can prove a ********' thing anyway without writing, so I'd recommend ya shut your trap and take the ten. It'd be the smart thing to do," and to accentuate the "advice", Kane hefted his rifle up into both his hands. The bounty hunter knew that the rubber bullets wouldn't kill Ryke, but they could still incapacitate s**t plenty good - and there was the chance she might not know it was filled with non-lethal rounds.

As things continued to heat up, Kane let his other thoughts wander off - Nate and Janus must have gotten lost or some s**t. After this was settled, he'd find their dumb asses and beat the s**t out of them for being such green asswipes and getting split up so easily.

Yeah, he was a total asswipe to be doing this.

s**t, something similar had happened to Kane ages back, and he had responded in the same exact way Ryke was right this moment - only difference was that he had been smart enough to lug all his gear with him and was able to thoroughly "convince" his old teammates that he was entitled to his fair share of the reward, and then some. Kane had shown back then that he had what it took to be successful in this line of work, and by doing the same thing that nearly got him killed to others, he felt as though he was doing the world of bounty hunting justice - by rooting out the weak.

Ryke was weak. Kane completely overlooked the fact that she had been the one to bag the mark and instead mocked how she was entirely unprepared for what was happening right now. Nope, no hypocrisies in there.

He flashed her a brutal grin, showing her that he was entirely confident with the situation. Ryke had a shock maul and a holstered sidearm - Kane had a drawn automatic weapon and had immediate backup in the form of Abe. He had all the cards.

"What's it gonna be? I'll tell you what it's going to be, Ryke - you take the ten like a good b***h and shut the ******** up, or you'll never walk out of this alley and the rest of us get a nice bonus. That's what it's going to be - I'm doing you one helluva ********' favor by agreeing to that alone."

Kane wondered how long it would take Ryke to realize that there wasn't s**t she could do, when something interrupted their little scene - rather loudly.

"And I guess that means I'll be doin' ya a rathin' favor by not killing yer grodpacked asses and taking the mark fer myself. How's that sound, Jimbo?"

Kane's eyes went wide at the sudden intrusion and promptly wheeled on the balls of his feet to face the ******** who just butted in.

"And who the ******** are...you?"

The words almost died in the bounty hunter's mouth at the sight that stood before them. With the dying sun in the background, the figure's shadow cascaded over the lot of them, but even that was nothing compared to the sheer size of the ********. He was tall - taller than either of them, but not by an inordinate amount. No, this guy was just ******** HUGE - impossibly broad and thick, it looked as though he was part giant. He wore a worn, greyed duster, a flak vest, some jeans and combat boots. Assorted grenades, mags and the like were clipped to the bandoleer/belt combo that was strapped to his body. The guy was also ugly as a Goddamned brick - his face was gnarled, harsh and was the meanest thing Kane had seen in ages.

Whoever the ******** this guy was, his presence alone caused him to get a bead on him immediately with his rifle. The giant gave a thin-lipped harsh grin in reply, hands thrust in jean pockets.

"Who the rath am I? Could ask ya the same thing, but like I would give a grod about little pisses like the lot of ya. You can call me Ebris - Ebris Dhifi. Ya should consider yerselves lucky - not too many folk can claim they got my attention enough to get the grod kicked outta them and have their hard-bagged mark stolen right out from under their cratered noses."

Kane didn't know what the ******** to say.

I mean, this was some big a** ******** right ahead of him. One of the biggest he'd ever seen. And boy, did he look mean. A quick glance revealed certain symmetrical bulges under his brown vest, which indicated that there were armor plates under there. His boots were also similarly protected, but everything else seemed completely normal. The way his coat bulged out on his sides revealed that the big b*****d was indeed packing heat. However, there was one problem with that, to which Kane gave a sharp grin and tightened his grip around his rifle - he had his piece drawn and that b*****d didn't.

But why the ******** did he still freak the bajeesus outta him?

Spitting out his cig, sending embers scattering across the ground, Kane raised his rifle up put a bead on this Ebris ********. The old man barked out words that indicated he was bounty scum, just like the lot of 'em all, so that made him damn dangerous in addition to his sheer presence alone. Abe's face was straining like all hell in an attempt to not draw his own hand cannon on the guy and plug his a**. By having him covered from two different sources, Kane was allowed to comm in again to his two b*****d mates who still weren't responding, which he whispered as to not draw too much attention.

It didn't work.

Ebris' feral grin harshened and he began to step forward, his massive bulk pushing Ryke forward like she was some helpless punk kid. The brute didn't even really pay much attention to her right then, but a quick glance at her indicated that he pretty much considered her less worthy than s**t on his boot.

"Callin' fer yer buds, eh? Dun think they'll be too rathin' keen on talkin' back, what, with the neat lil' holes I put in 'em not too long ago." He rumbled forth a chuckle, both of his hands brushing the sides of his duster aside to reveal his holsters in full, which were occupied by two of the biggest revolvers Kane had ever ******** seen. Cursing, the bounty hunter took a step forward, thrusting the barrel of the gun at the huge sonofabitch.

"Don't you ******** move again, you ********! I should end your old a** right now?"

He was sweating now, blinking bits of it outta his eyes. ******** had to be bluffing...had to! But why weren't Janus and Nate responding...

"Then why aren't ya, ya rathin' p***y?"

Oh, he was pushing it, but it did beg the question. s**t was ******** tense now as an old fashion standoff formed, with a dumbass broad caught in between the lot of them.