Chapter Text
"Mama- mama please." He sniffled, clutching the woman's hand. "Wake up. Did I do something wrong?"
He lifted her hand up and cupped her hand, bringing it to his face, feeling the warmth of her touch one last time.
In an alleyway, the teen curled into a ball staring at the cat in front of him, the cat eating some dead, rotten fish.
He stared and stared.
Then slowly, carefully, he shifted and moved forward. He crawled towards the small animal, making sure the rings on his finger didn't hit the ground too hard, making sure his fingers were spread wide to avoid making any noise with how they usually clinked together.
And then he pounced.
A faint glow surrounded the rings, a sound akin to metal scraping against metal before the cat yowled in pain and fell limp. Blood fell down mankira's shiny blades and Jabber watched and crawled forward and picked the deceased animal up with gentle hands.
"Sorry, kitty." He mumbled. The jinki on his fingers returned to her base form as he put the cat back down. His fingers curled into the wound he'd created, briefly glancing at the cat's face for a reaction. There were none, good. The cat didn't have to suffer any further.
Jabber pulled and tore open the flesh, watching it shift and stretch under his hands.
He leaned down and dug his teeth into it.
"Hnnghh..." He grunted, jolting slightly from the force once he finally tore a piece off. Jabber chewed, ignoring the taste of blood and raw meat on his tongue, what was important was the meal he was eating. The meal he was finally able to find after weeks-
A woman shrieked and ran over to Jabber, shoving him away and picking the bloody cat up. "Jannie, oh, baby.. No!" She cried, wrapping her arms around the desecrated body, ignoring the mess it created on her pristine white shirt.
Jabber landed on his ass, holding himself up by bruised elbows. He watched the woman cry and pushed himself up. Jabber's eyes darted frantically around the alley he was in as the woman looked up, finally seeing the perpetrator.
"Psycho, psycho! What have you done to my girl!?" She shrieked, Jabber took that as a sign to get up and out of there. He scrambled to his feet, turned, and bolted. She continued to cry and yell insults and threats as he ran.
Jabber stumbled, barely catching himself on his fingers as he continued to run, ignoring how his wicks felt against his skin and in the wind in favor of escaping another's wrath once again.
The boy was out of the alleyway, but now stuck in a busy marketplace. He breathed through his teeth and continued to run, and when he felt his lungs burn and legs ache, he woke mankira up. Once he was isolated enough, he jabbed her claws right into his ribs.
He felt his skin burn and his mind start racing, his muscles tensing as he ran into an alleyway. He curled his claws into a concrete wall and pushed himself up, scaling the building purely with adrenaline, whatever drugs he'd taken the night before and mankira.
Wait.
What was he running from?
That woman couldn't have chased after him.
Surely the cat's little friends couldn't come after him—they were cats.
What was he running from?
Consequences?
Damn the consequences.
Jabber sat on the rooftop of the building, panting and staring down at the rough, concrete floor. He shook his head and lifted his head, forcing himself to get up and keep moving. For all he knew, that lady could know people. Maybe those people wanted to hurt him too.
He stumbled forward and jumped to another building before sliding down the walls with mankira. Mankira. Why did he name her mankira again?
"Yo, kid."
Oh, right.
He was slouched, mama always told him to fix his posture. Too bad she wasn't there anymore. Neither of them could pay his father's debts, they'd gotten her and now they were after Jabber.
Jabber turned around, bare feet scraping against the ground. His pants were torn and his hoodie was dirty. That's what years of running does to someone.
"It doesn't look like you have the money, huh?" The man grinned, two more men appeared from behind him. They all held weapons—obviously. None of them were capable of getting a jinki like him, much less something as beautiful as his rings.
Jabber sighed. "No money." He mumbled in response, he tilted his head slightly, glaring up at the men angrily. "What're you gonna do about it?" He asked, holding his hands up, making sure to show mankira off.
The three gave each other a skeptical glance, they knew they couldn't get too close. Jabber grinned. "Are you scared?" He giggled, taking a step forward, they backed up. "You're scared." He stated, matter-of-factly.
"These pretty things were my Mama's, you know? Before you.. your organization killed her." He put his hands down, ready to strike. "She was real pretty in red anyway."
Jabber set his stance, feet shifting into position and leaned down, ready to lunge. None of them even blinked, there was no communication needed to know that blood was about to spill.
Jabber's claws carved a deep cut into one of the men's ribs, ducking a blow to his head. He was low on the floor now, his hand shot out to tore into another's calves, the man cried out in pain.
The last one let out a sound of pure horror and clutched his crowbar tightly once Jabber turned his attention to him. Someone attacked him from behind and hammered their bat to Jabber's head. Jabber twisted his body and struck once more, leaving them writhing on the ground.
Jabber stepped closer to the last one standing, practically cornering the grown man to the wall. "Hey. You got anything else to say?" He tilted his head, lifting his hand and pressing his fingers together, forming a drill. When the man only sputtered and stuttered in response, Jabber drove his claws right into his solar plexus.
He pulled mankira out and they immediately sank down to the ground. Jabber snorted. "Too easy." He mumbled, turning around to check on the two he'd just completely destroyed. He stepped closer to the leader and lightly kicked his body. "You guys are a bunch of well-seasoned, experienced adults and stuff.. right? Not being able to handle a thirteen year old is soooo embarrassing, isn't it?"
Jabber kicked again. "Isn't it?"
The man didn't reply, Jabber clicked his tongue and stopped. "Useless." He crouched down and poked Mankira into the back of the man's neck, leaving a lethal dose of drugs that Jabber hadn't been bothered to remember the name of or the effects it gave.
Once he felt like he'd left enough — enough being when the man started to spasm and foam at the mouth — he stood back up and started to walk away, still dripping into blood, neurotoxins dripping from his claws, slumping and stumbling around like an alcoholic. Once he was out with the crowd, the people started to make way for him.
He wondered why.
Was it the blood on his mouth? Or on his clothes? Maybe it was the bloodshot eyes or the fact he was walking around with claws sharp enough to be an obvious threat to everyone around him? The thought of people being afraid of him made him giggle, but it made him feel a little upset at the same time.
Feelings were so confusing, this is why Jabber preferred getting high most of the time. If he wasn't, he was zoning out or hiding.. he didn't like hiding, but fighting wasn't fun either when the people he was fighting couldn't even up after a little scratch.
Why were people so scared of him?
"Yo."
Jabber stopped in his tracks and looked up. A man was holding the umbrella for him.. why was he holding an umbrella? It wasn't like it was raining. Or there was trash. Not even a possibility of it being 'sunny'. Jabber stared and blinked slowly.
"Sup." He mumbled in response.
"You lost?" The man asked.
Jabber straightened his posture and looked around, taking his time to inspect and to answer. "Yeah."
The man before him simply nodded. "You got a place to stay? Parents?"
The way he asked Jabber questions — not as an interrogation, but this weird casual vibe like it was just small talk with someone they hadn't talked to in a while — made him feel a little uneasy. He felt like the tone implied the guy assumed Jabber didn't have parents, which he wouldn't be wrong about.
The boy furrowed his brows, contemplated and then nodded. "Nah."
Blondie held his hand out, tatted fingers reaching out. "Come with us."
"..." Jabber stared at the hand and scoffed. "No thanks." He said, waving the man off with a careless wave of his hand, ready to simply walk past until he felt his hand on his shoulder.
"The past doesn't matter with the cleaners." He said. "What matters is what you can do." His eyes glanced down to Jabber's claws, obvious enough that Jabber caught what he was implying.
"What I can do, huh." Jabber rolled his shoulders back. "What do I get in return for staying with ya?"
"What do you want?"
Jabber grinned. "I like the way you think, old man." He giggled, grinning. "Okay, I'll come with."
"Enjin." He introduced himself.
Jabber finally looked up, locking eyes with the cleaner. "Jabber. Jabber Wonger."
"Ohh, Jabber."
"Cleen.. cleaner... ss.." He slurred, eyes blinking too slowly. The raider sat beside him with lovely assistaff resting on his lap.
Zanka ran his fingers across the smooth wood and bandages on lovely, treating her gently. His eyes flickered towards Jabber before returning to his jinki. "You're so talkative." He mumbled. Zanka leaned over Jabber and took his hand, running his thumb over the carvings on the rings.
"Your hands are so soft, how are you able to throw such a mean right hook with these?" He tutted, twisting and turning the rings, or as Jabber had called her, mankira. She was beautiful, Zanka would admit that, but they were a threat with how his shredded mask was on the ground at the moment.
Zanka shifted and placed lovely beside Jabber before laying on his side. He should've killed Jabber sooner, but he expected Jabber to get back up again and fight him, the fact he didn't disappointed Zanka. His free hand slid over to Jabber's face, cupping his cheek and turning his head to face Zanka.
He furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes when Jabber let out a choked inhale. "I hope yer not dying." He said. "But you hafta."
It was quiet for a moment before Jabber started giggling. And then slowly, it turned into a loud burst of laughter that caught Zanka off-guard. Zanka sat up, eyes locked on Jabber's face. Jabber's shoulders trembled with the force of laughter, Zanka wondered what kind of drugs those claws had to be laughing like this.
"You really are crazy." He whispered, and yet, he couldn't help but let himself relax and enjoy it. Zanka chuckled and started laughing along. He didn't know what was so funny, but he was still laughing.
Once the laughter died down, Zanka's shoulders still shook with the 'joy' he'd let loose. He grinned wickedly, brushing away the few wicks that covered Jabber's face. "Jabber." He sighed. "That was fun, but time's up." His hand travelled downwards and wiped away a few stray tears from Jabber's eyes. Was it from joy or from something else? He'd figure that out later.. whenever later was.
Zanka bit his lip, Jabber looked like he was experiencing pure, genuine bliss. Zanka really wanted to get rid of that. Zanka picked lovely up and used her to stand up. It felt insulting to use her as a crutch, but he had no choice but to do so. "Yer so happy to be a mess." He giggled at his own joke.
He leaned down and grabbed Jabber's ankle, dragging him away quietly.
"I did a good job." Zanka murmured. "'m sure Zodyl would proud." He added thoughtfully, giggling to himself. From an outside perspective, maybe he looked like he a bit out of his mind, but nobody was there. Nobody but Jabber, who sure as hell too busy doing whatever he thinks he's doing.
Nobody but Jabber and whoever just shot at Zanka.
One bullet shot through him, right through his leg. Zanka's eyes snapped towards the shooter, his grip tightening around lovely assistaff. Then another shot was fired — that one, Zanka was able to deflect.
She moved closer, stopping just where Zanka could see her.
"Put him down." She ordered, her voice firm.
Zanka didn't flinch. He reached into the small pouch on his belt, right next to his lamp — dodged another bullet — and cocked a gun, aiming it towards the girl. Her eyes widened but she managed to school her expression.
Seemed like neither of them were surprised by their choice of weapons.
She'd already seen his face, there was no point in hiding it. "Hey, I know a few people who use those guns too.." She commented. "Have you-"
A bullet grazed her skin, a small scratch along the shell of her ear. "Fight." He demanded, keeping his low, almost threatening — Riyo frowned, they held their stances and aimed. Zanka's finger slowly pulled the trigger-
"Kinji."
Zanka dodged the bullet the cleaner shot, just barely. His own bullet missed the girl and his head snapped towards the light of the manhole Cthoni sat in. "It's time to go." She said calmly, Zanka stopped and lowered his gun.
"But I haven't-"
"It's time to go." Cthoni said firmly and Zanka froze. His eyes flickered between his opponent and his superior. "Leave him there." She added, noticing how his eyes darted and his brows furrowed.
".. Yes, big sis." He pressed his lips into a thin line and slowly backed away and quickly trotted towards Cthoni despite the pain his leg. Both from his broken ankle and from the bullet shot at him.
Cthoni moved to the side to make way for Zanka, "Your mask." She pointed out.
Zanka's hand reached up to touch his bare face. Great. Someone— no, two people had seen his face. "It's fine." He murmured, holding onto the rim of the portal and stepping inside. Just before he'd completely entered the manhole, he saw Riyo running towards Jabber, rushing to his aid.
Riyo sighed as the portal finally disappeared. She leaned down and wrapped her hand around Jabber's arm, hauling him up and letting him lean on her. "Geez, I forgot how heavy you were." Riyo teased. She took a good look at Jabber's dazed expression. "Are you high? I thought you didn't do that anymore."
She stared at him for awhile before shifting his position and lifted him up higher, holding onto him more securely and putting her attention to the cavern entrances. Despite her earlier teasing, her expression grew serious.
Riyo'd talk to him about it later.
It fell.
Cthoni leaned against a wall of trash with her arms crossed over her chest, carefully watching Bundus and Zodyl's interaction and listening to their discussion. She sighed turned her attention towards Zanka who was sitting on the ground with his legs stretched in front of him. Lovely assistaff on his lap, his fingers gently gliding over the wood.
The woman hesitated and swallowed hard. "You good?" She asked, Zanka looked up at Cthoni and back down to lovely assistaff.
"'m fine." He replied, but his voice was shaky and his fingers wrapped around lovely assistaff almost painfully. "I can get a new mask and-"
"I'm not talking about that."
Zanka looked back up at Cthoni and frowned. "Then what what are you talking about?"
"Are you okay?"
Zanka stared at Cthoni for a while and his frown deepened. "That doesn't matter." He said, but the way Cthoni looked at him, like she was prying made him cave in. "My ankle's sprained and I have a few burns from acid, but other than that, I'm fine."
Cthoni hummed in response and slid down the wall, sitting beside Zanka. "We'll get you a new mask, or make another one. And if you want, we can kill the two cleaners that saw you." She suggested, Zanka shook his head.
"It's fine, I... It's not like they'll get involved with the hell guard or whatever." He grumbled. Cthoni nodded in response. A shadow fell over them and Zodyl fixed this gaze onto Zanka.
"What's wrong with you?"
Zanka tilted his head and raised a brow, he needed some clarification. Zodyl cleared his throat and averted his gaze. "Your ankle. What happened?"
Zanka frowned once again. "Nothin'. I fucked up-" he stopped himself before he could snap and schooled his expression. "I lost my balance while fighting the cleaner, I didn't-"
"You did good." Zodyl cut him off—they would always shut him up before he started to degrade himself. "Let's go home." He said and turned to Cthoni. The woman nodded and stood up, summoning the portal.
"We'll discuss this later."
Zanka nodded and used lovely assistaff to pull himself up, wobbling behind Zodyl as the man approached the manhole. A large, gentle hand placed itself onto Zanka's back and nudged him forward. "Need help?"
Zanka stared up at Bundus for a moment—the man was a seasoned veteran, he had experience and an incredible jinki. Zanka would make sure train with him soon—oh. His vital instrument. Zanka paused and straightened. "Your.. instrument." He pointed out.
Bundus followed his gaze and let out a chuckle. "It's alright, you don't need to worry. I know how much you love that assistaff of yers, but I can fix my own right up as well."
Zanka grumbled incoherently and turned his eyes downcast. "Yer wobbling, do you need me to pick you up or anythin'?"
"No! No." Zanka quickly protested. "I don't need that, I'm completely fine on my own. Lovely can help me anyway." He added as politely as he could before following Zodyl once again—only to fall flat onto his face.
His finger twitched.
"Neurotoxins." He groaned.
Zodyl sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Bundus, pick him up."