---Richard---
Richard wanted to do something fun. Like always he didn’t know what the fun he wanted to do was, but he was getting better at coming up with stuff on the fly.
“This map’s initially much more friendly than the last area – I say we find the dark side of this city whether it’s a cult or mafia or something and fuck with them for some easy achievements. Has to be some safe targets somewhere no?” Richard stepped backwards onto the moving sidewalk and let himself be pulled away. He watched as his new potential friend stepped on afterwards – their handler following along behind them like a ghost.
How many players had entered this area so far? How was the city giving everyone a handler – there couldn’t be that many NPC’s on standby just for them right?
…a question that only made sense when imagining this was reality. R simply made enough handlers for everyone. He bent plausibility over his knee to make it happen, that's all Richard needed to know. Stupid question really – why was Richard searching for safe targets anyways? They were NPC’s right?
…Were any targets safe? Should he open that can of worms? Boring train of thought – Richard thought he killed those annoying bits of self reflection.
“I think…I think I’m going to leave soon.” James said quietly. “I want to get out of this place. I feel stifled”
Me too buddy. “You feel better when you stop caring – worried about what people think? Fuck em. Worried about picking the right choice or doing the right thing? Just make the choice you want to make, damn the consequences – as long as you are fine with your decisions that's all that matters. It's freeing.”
Richard stepped over onto the slower lane for a second pulling back to stand by James and starting to stroll – walking to keep up with the faster sidewalk.
“I’ve been dying to ask – whose blood is that on your sleeves? What’s the story?” Richard probed.
James looked down and then started as if only now noting the dried blood caked into fabric.
“Mine…I guess?” James spoke his hand coming up to touch his mouth for a second.
James’s skin was unblemished – as weird as that was to focus on. Dirty but without a wound or even sign of a wound – he wasn’t carrying any weapon or supplies.
It was a mystery – the main mystery drawing Richard’s attention to the guy. What was his story? What was there about him that Richard was drawn to?
His answer could have been any number of minor things that dropped Richard's excitement. Instead…James’s answer had made even more questions and actually raised his interest.
In the distance as if choreographed, a universal sound rang out – screaming and the shattering of glass.
Less than thirty seconds later and the source of the disturbance came into view.
A masked man stood in front of the shattered remains of a storefront surrounded by glass. His skin was tinted grey, he wore coveralls and a hoodie – no the ‘look’ did not ‘work’ – but what drew the eye was his hair and the glowing rods held in his hands.
Neon tinged vials of glowing liquid were held haphazardly in his arms throwing a faint rainbow glow up onto his chest and grey mask. If it were night time, Richard had no doubt the whole street would be lit by those vials.
His hair on the other hand was…dangerous looking. It looked like it was made of metal – of very thin dreadlocks the ends braided like steel cables. The hair was also waving around about his head like snakes – that was probably the part to focus on.
Behind the criminal, a shopkeeper ran out then stood and pointed yelling something unintelligible. ‘There’s the thief? The one standing in broken glass – right there!’ maybe?
Continuing to play out like a scene from a movie as Richard moved closer – drawn towards the entertainment on the moving sidewalk – a new man flew in, cape and spandex outfit flapping in the wind. The outfit had quite a bit more tassels and frills than a traditional superhero outfit, but this character still looked the part.
Yelling something – probably some variation of ‘stop! criminal scum!’ the superhero held both hands out in the universal boxing pose. Constantly spiralling smoke poured out of his sleeves and coated the man’s fists.
The steel haired criminal smashed his head into his arms. His mouth darted open, a long tongue flicking out of his mask like a gimp suit and flicking a vial up into his mouth.
The man bit down hard – not seeming to care for the broken glass filling his mouth – and suddenly his body began to convulse.
The superhero yelled something in shock and flew forward but this is the moment everything seemed to go wrong.
The steel hair which had been floating slowly about the man’s head like a metal medusa knockoff suddenly shook. The hair stilled for a second and then suddenly grew in all directions even as it began to spin.
The superhero punched forward – a ghostly fist flying across the remaining distance even as the hair began blending the entire street.
Like a tornado of blades, the metal medusa did a death metal impression and headbanged the street to bits. It happened in only a second or two. The ghostly punch impacted the criminal's chest causing him to freeze and cough in shock but by that point it was too late.
The ‘hero’ had been blended. His bloody body had been thrown backwards resembling nothing more than ground beef.
The shopkeeper and a random civilian – one of the only people to have stayed to watch instead of running away initially – were both dead.
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They lay on the street covered in thousands upon thousands of deep gashes.
Richard had been hit by the attack as well – his front was doing quite a bit better than either of the bystanders and his skin seemed to be healing slightly but he had dozens of physical defense stats to thank for his current condition. It was just his luck the moving sidewalk had brought him directly across from the criminal at the moment they attacked.
It hurt. Not in a debilitating manner but enough that Richard winced and spent a disoriented moment piecing together what had happened.
When he ‘came to’ and finished reviewing the attack not five seconds had passed – but already the state of the street had changed. Richard turned to glance at his companions and found their handler crumpled and twitching in a pool of blood.
Her body was between the two sidewalks and being spun slightly – perfectly balanced between the two as the left sidewalk dragged her legs backwards and the right sidewalk dragged her head forwards then continued around.
James was gone.
Richard’s mind took in their guide – if it had been an ‘enemy’ he might have found the spinning funny but…humanity's ability to connect to people had reared its head. Richard had talked to her. Had asked her questions and received answers. Sure she was ‘just an NPC’ Richard had known for a few hours but he still found himself getting angry. Turning back to stare at the culprit Richard was just in time to see a slightly bloodied James blur slightly as he jumped onto the steel medusas back.
James’s legs wrapped around the criminal's waist, and his hands grabbed two fistfuls of hair – the steel digging deep into his palms and drawing blood.
In a single moment, James wrapped hair around the criminal's neck in a makeshift garrote – pulling tight even as the hair buckled and strands began to whip about. Sentient whips that attempted to bloody the latched-on player.
Richard watched as struggling wires cut deep into the skin of the criminal’s throat in a red line, the grappling pair falling forwards with James on top.
The moment the criminal hit the ground the impact seemed to help James along and with surprisingly little sound their entire head flew off rolling upwards and to the side.
Richard in this moment knew two things. One. He was definitely right about his new friend being interesting – the man was a fucking badass with how inventive his weapon choice had been. And two. While less than a dozen seconds had passed and Richard wouldn’t have considered himself to have ‘froze up’ he had also done pathetically little to help. If they were playing heroes, he should have been right there beside James. Fuck – am I the sidekick?
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---James---
James’s body had moved without much prompting. Fight or flight response had kicked in and he chose fight – he had been attacked. He had fought back. Simple as that.
And yet now he was laying on top of the corpse of the man he just killed and it felt like he was going to have a panic attack.
Did…did he just make a mistake? This was a person wasn’t it? What was he going to do! Was he going to get in trouble? Was he going to go to jail for manslaughter? It was self defense right? No, he had gone above and beyond that – he should have [hasted] away from the dangerous man not towards him. James was definitely going to have some trouble in a court of law if he brought it up.
He was definitely going to get in trouble wasn’t he? Fuck! AHHHHHH!
Why hadn’t he left immediately? This is why he hated being in this city. This is why he wanted to be back in the wilderness.
If James was there and killed something that attacked him no one would bat an eye. Here there were ‘rules’. Here in ‘society’ there was the ‘law’ and he was a foreigner to these lands. He didn’t know the laws. He had to deal with the daily politics of dealing with other people and he had just made the worst social blunder possible.
James’s body should have succumbed to the blood loss but…he had so many defensive stats in his veins and heart preventing that. His body didn’t care as much about all the damage to it – not as much as it should. As long as his cores were safe he was fine. The blades hadn’t reached his weakness.
…he wasn’t dying but James was definitely disoriented. Focusing blurry eyes he pulled himself together wincing through the pain. He could barely read the achievement he just got even as it faded – he could barely focus on the exhilarating feeling of stats diffusing through his body.
Pain was a sign of danger. Of his body warning him about damage. His body could deal with this damage. This damage wasn’t dangerous and so it shouldn’t hurt this much. He should be able to ignore it.
James felt himself be spun over his bloodied shirt being peeled up and a warm sensation being applied.
I have to get away. This place isn’t safe and I don’t know if I’m allowed to defend myself.
I have to take a long break from interacting with “people”.
James continued to lay cursing the shock his body was going through thoughts of escape running through his mind. As soon as someone made to arrest him for murder he was going to run.
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---Richard---
A set of five police officers had arrived – way too late to the scene as the trope always went – each wearing outfits and armour identical to those when they first arrived.
Taking in the scene in a few seconds immediately a pair split off to James and a pair to their handler.
Was she still alive? There was a line of blood running dozens of feet down the sidewalk her body still spinning.
Was James fine? Richard had flipped to being jealous that he hadn’t helped take the criminal down – he should have first checked to make sure James’s wounds weren’t too bad.
That was a mistake.
The final aether solider approached Richard and began asking him to describe what happened while offering a container of cream.
…
When Richard finished describing the metal medusa being taken down the solider offered him the tub once again, finally explaining once Richard asked.
Sure, seeing as how you’ve been helpful giving us a picture of the scene. This is what many refer to as a healing salve. It’s the most versatile catch-all type of recovery drug available to public market. Topical applications or consumption both work and it has miraculous effects. Closes cuts – clotting them by filling the area with gunk that bonds to flesh and is harmlessly scabbed away. Reduces swelling, soothes burns. Doesn’t fix broken bones but does act as a sort of cast – the mixture turns hard when in contact with broken bones instead of the softer gunk it does otherwise.
…basically first aid in a bottle – or tub in this case. Great for stabilising people. Doesn’t heal poison or diseases but can mitigate some of the effects of them. Can sometimes reattach lost limbs but its not crazy enough to regrow them or anything.
For simple wounds and for fast acting relief its unparalleled. Do you want some, or would you like to head to a hospital?
Richard reached out and scraped a bit of goop onto his cuts. Immediately it felt like they were closing. His body sucked the cream in like a starving creature given a meal – it was fan-fucking-tastic. The man had said for ‘public market’ – Richard needed to buy some of this if he could.
Fuck it felt nice.
The cuts felt like they were already healed completely. Either something was synergizing with his body, or the solider had undersold just how miraculous it was.
Damn this guy was making an impression on Richard. He was so used to the idea of the police being corrupt but everyone here professionally helping everyone…it was nice. This group at least was good eggs.
Richard walked over to James’s body and watched the pair applying salve to every square inch of his body. One of them was checking the others and confirming no one else could be saved.
Your friend's a hero. Usually you need a hero’s license to do something like this without being a vigilante, but special attention is taken to all of you coming out of the containment field. I’m sure you are going to be given a hefty sum of credits for this as if you were an actual hero group. His quick thinking stopped that villain from rampaging and hurting more than they already did. From one fellow protector of the innocent to another. Tell him we owe him one.
Richard nodded.
He didn’t even feel jealous a single bit.