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On and off, Jerome's time was becoming a little more consumed with training under a Trainee at the HQ, especially now that he wasn't hindered by the wounds that had previously crippled him from his normal active life style.

It hadn't been very long ago that he had seen the young eccentric mechanic for a brief moment on the TV, during a live feed of the contest in one of the other Cities. He had been surprised to see her, and reminded that... it had been a while since he last went out anywhere, the City included.
He had stopped by every now and then, so check up on the women, hang out for a bit. It was a good excuse to get out of the desert anyway.
Its not like he had much contact with anyone outside the HQ... heck he barely had much in the way of contact in the HQ either.

The City didn't change much, That much Jerome could count on. the streets were not safe for him to walk, so he stuck to the roofs. Griffin's turf now... no place for an ET-14, ex-member or not.

Shaking his dread out of his face as he crouched at the edge of the building right across from Izumi's he flicked a few gravel peaces at the window, knowing that it would at least catch one of her Pokemon's attention.
Jerome came with an excuse though! like he usually did, bringing broken kick knacks for her to fix.
This time, it was a broken power screwdriver he found in the garbage at HQ.

Blinking a couple of times, the man leaned forward, putting a hand down on the side of the building as he looked to the sign, reading it.
the junk yard huh?
He was still not so certain about her going there alone, but she had been there many times before and back.
Still... so long as he was here, he might as well go meet her there. he knew a way to it though the city jungle, high up routs.

Lifting a hand to wave it casually at the window, Jerome returned to his feet, taking a few steps back before he took on at a higher speed though the rooftops.

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Jerome knew what he was talking about when he had said the way that Izumi had been taking was dangerous, by some luck she managed to avoid ill fortune.
That luck was going to run out today it seemed.

From behind here, there was thinking noise, and the cart she was training was suddenly capsized off its wheels, and twisted upside down by a forceful momentum.

Replaced in its space, icy blue eyes staring down at the cart that he had kicked over, before looking over to her. black hair falling into his face as he tilted his head with a frown.
He wasn't alone though.
"And what exactly was that thing for?" He man asked her, crossing his arms.

the black haired man's brow furrowed staring at her for a moment, before he chuckled "Scrap metal?"
From the junk yard no doubt. She seemed like a timid thing, despite the eccentric tattoo's that one normally saw on hard asses.
The man glanced her over, looking a little puzzled.
Whatever, regardless, this one should be easy.
"You do know that that yard is Griffin Territory? how long have you been stealing from it?"

icy blue eyes glanced past her, at his two friends, starting to make their way down the ally, by now they had the women cornered.
The man signed, and pulled his hands out of his pocket, holding his hand out.
"Nothing in this hood is public, it all belongs to Griffin, now pay up for the s**t you took."

One of the men behind her, reached out suddenly, roughly grabbing at her arm to give her a clear message that they were very serious.
"wha-" Something about the arm that he grabbed caught his interest though. it wasn't soft, like an arm should be. in fact it didn't really feel like skin at all.

The blue eyed man watched, gaze drawn as the man behind her used his over hand to pull her arm up "Whats this than?"

a couple of strides forward from the thinner of the men, and the blue eyed one reached out to take her other arm.
"SHUT UP!" He snapped, breaking his previously icy demeanor, though seems her pleading was annoying.
"I hate it when they beg."
their interest in the arm didn't die though, if anything it made them more interested.
Pulling at the glove on it, all three of their eyes widened when the black glove was tossed to the ground.

"its some kind of robot arm" the man holding her said, looking it over.
The third man wistled, impressed.

"hum... that would be worth a lot on the market." the blue eyed one mentioned. reaching out. "fine, get it off of her, we'll take the arm"

These men didn't have any concern for the girl's well being thats for sure. and they were not exactly being gentle when it came to trying to remove the arm either.

Unforgettably, none of them knew how to get the arm off, not stopping to consider that the twisting, and pulling might be painful. they probably didn't care if it was.
All the while holding onto her to try and keep her from squirming, or running away.

"Damin, I can't get it off." The man said, sounding annoyed.

The Icy eyed man shot a look at him, not wanting it to be broken... next someone he reached into his pocket, and flipped out a knife, thrusting it forward to flash it at Izumi.
"Quit your struggling right now, I've used this before and I will use it again."

Ugh, okay crying, at least she stopped moving so much.
The knife was handed over to one of the other men, who started using it to try and pry the arm away.

If anyone heard her screams, and her sobs from the street they turned a deaf ear to it. No one willing to do anything about it, for fear of their own well being. That just how life in the hood went. people kept their head down...

Though, maybe in this case, it would have been in the gang banger's best interested to look up every now and than...

left alone, the men would have probably done what it took to get that arm off, ignoring whatever cries the girl had.
But only after a couple seconds of the knife scraping against the edges of the metal, something large suddenly dropped down from the building overhead. a fist slamming into the bend of the larger man's shoulder and neck.

There as a howl of agony, the man's legs giving out under him as he crumpled to the ground, clutching at his shoulder, The dark form, having fallen with him but was quickly on his feet, dreadlocks thrown back from a darkly tattooed face, an a rather calm expression flashing one from of the men to the other.
"She don't like bein' touched." Jerome's deep voice betrayed his feelings about the situation, practically growling at the men.

The other two looked over with wide eyes, Jerking back in surprise.

Jerome heard Izumi, but he didn't look at her, not daring to take his eyes off the two other men.
Deal with them first, than he can worry about Izumi.
"Damin"
His dark eyes locked onto the bright icy orbs of the man to his right.

"TJ" The man, Damin said, the two of them creating a little more space around the dreadlocked gangster, the other man pulling out a switchblade as they slowly started to circle the ex- ET-14
"Here I thought that last of the Runners was finally dead."

Blue eyes narrowed, head bowing to let dark strands of hair drape over his eyes.

"I did." Jerome replied simply, his attention on Damin.

This prompted the second gangster to charge Jerome, knife ready, just as Jerome expected.
Twisting his body, and throwing his fist out, forcing power though momentum, his fit slammed into the man's gut so hard, the younger punk barely had enough bread to grunt. dropping completely to the ground with his face stretched in pain and horror, he couldn't breath!

That was the easy one though, Jerome hadn't expected the first one he took out to be back up so soon either, and he felt a strong hand grab his leg.
this gave Damin the change to dark in, throwing a punch to the tattooed man across the face.

The men fighting were not weak, and they were not concerned with such things like honor, or fail fighting.
The punches they delivered, while were not from any practiced form of martial arts, but powerful brawling blows that gangsters picked up on the street.

Jerome didn't really like to do this, but he knew what was necessary to win, to live, and he was good at it. Beating the s**t out of rivals was a way of life in the streets sometimes... or a way to live anyway.
It payed off, simply becasue he was still alive to see the complete call of his gang.
He knew that for the rest of his life he wouldn't be able to stop fighting, though for now... fighting to actually protect someone else? He supposed he could be okay with that.

The fight was messy, and unorganized, but with every hit Jerome took, he just got back, and gave a few of his own.

By the time it was over, Jerome was still standing, breath heavy, and bleeding from an open cut on his face fists still clenched.
Two of the men were laying on the ground unconscious. Damin included. The other, still trying to gasp for breath, that Jerome had previously robbed him of.

his brow nit, shoulders tensed to give the man a wider structure, standing as if he was ready to beat the s**t out of the first a** hole who tried to stand up again!
Even though what was going through his head... was leaning toward making SURE they don't get up again.

This was Griff's gang, Jerome knew this, he didn't kill them... but if he just turned and left now, they would know Jerome was alive, they would know Izumi was connected with him. this meant Izumi would be in dager once they went back to Griffin.

Jerome knew he had to kill them.

Closing his mouth, inked out eyes locked on Damin as the gangster walked over with a slight limp, opening his fist, and bending over to reach for the uncontentious man's neck.