It was a cold and lonely spring night in MR, and that suited Legoh just fine. His head felt like elephants had been tap dancing there, throwing nails, singing annoying kindergarten songs that were too happy and too upbeat for how wasted he felt.
It almost felt as bad as when Megadegik had punched him in the head. The bastard. He would have his revenge. He felt it then again - that ache-spark. That utter inspiration and sense of direction and purpose that meant that he would absolutely, eventually rise up to the occasion, rejoin with Legoc, regain his fighting spirit and destroy 4kids where it stood.
He chuckled to himself, knowing that he was telling himself yet another lie. He tucked his hands in the pockets and walked down an alley way that was all too familiar, over to the sombre welcoming light of his favourite watering hole, the MR Pub.
It had been renovated. Looked a lot more modern than the homely rustic look it used to have. It had a lot more glass and fancy lighting. Like the emblems of the invaders that Legoh sometimes saw around, this felt like another violation that compounded his misery.
Despite these changes, however, the powers that be had let the name of the pub stand. It was under new management and didn’t have Pub-tan serving familiar patrons, but at least the population of 4kids soldiers was miniscule if not non-existent.
Nevertheless, Legoh walked in here in his new look - utterly bald and without spectacles, with a slight modification to his jawline using femtomachines to make his face unique enough so as not to be identifiable. If he rose suspicion, a thorough check would reveal who he was, but he hadn’t been doing much to warrant that kind of attention. He’d only been mostly guzzling whatever the bar had to offer and making a fool of himself. Between horrible karaoke, lost poker games and getting kicked out of the pub due to curfew or general craziness, nobody expected much from the local bald drunk in a trenchcoat who called himself Mister Mann.
Well, Mister Mann was going to have a ‘clear night’ today - transparent alcohol only. Vodka and all its friends. It was Wednesday, after all. Wednesday was always a ‘clear night’.
The small bell rang as he stepped on the hardwood floor, and a few heads glanced his way,
“Hey, Mister Mann! You singing with us today?” Haru, an orange haired young 4kids recruit in a white sailor’s outfit raised his beer glass at Legoh.
“Time will tell.” Legoh - Mister Mann - replied in his horrible approximation of a Jamaican accent.
For all his hate for 4kids, the kid was okay. He had some obscure apprenticeship with a Data Miner. Data Miners were highly trained but unfortunate souls tasked with excavating and exploring the bowels of Mangaraiders and recovering whatever useful information they could from the remains of the labyrinth that was Coryn’s lab. Odds of death or worse were at 64% if Legoh remembered correctly - Haru had talked about it once in his eternally cheerful voice. The kid was smart though, and his commanding officer seemed to be one of the best.
“Ola, Mann-san.” Said another voice.
“Hi.”
He shared more greetings as he sat at his stool. (It had ducttape on its legs because he’d broken it falling off.) Alice the bartender looked at him with her bored expression,
“Vodka?” She asked. The bottle was already in her hand.
“You know me so well.”
“Don’t puke this time.”.
“Cross my bleeding heart behbeh.” Legoh winked and took his first shot for the day.
He took it, whispering the names of all his friends - family - that were missing or dead. It was the only few seconds he risked sparing thoughts about the others before he focused on the matters of drink. He couldn’t risk any more than that- It hurt too much and annoyed him.
Finished with that secret toast, Legoh glanced around the pub. Some stools were filled, some groups were huddled together in conversation and other than Haru, he didn’t notice any 4kids troops. He recognized one Raider he hadn’t expected to survive the attack, but hadn’t talked to him even after the city had fallen. There was even a guest spectre he knew.
All in all, there were many people in the pub at this time of the night.
Ah, there was Harley Diamond, who was unfortunately a stripper. Unfortunate in that Legoh had to try extra hard not to bleed from his nose - that’d increase his chances of being discovered. Short jet black hair, Blue headphones, a short leather top and skirt and a bosom blessed by the gods, Legoh had to drink himself into a coma when he realised she had a cat tail as well.
Though severely discriminated against, kemomimis had a level (a very, very low level) of freedom to exist in the city. Legoh had no idea there were anything like kemomimis. In fact, after the invasion of 4kids more than the city becoming one flat sea of featureless soldiers hell bent on their ideology, it seemed to have filled up with quite a mix of different characters that hadn’t even been present in MR City at the time.
There was CopyCop the cyborg chef, trying to start a restaurant in “this hell hole of a city with no sense of taste.”
There was Utter the drunkard pirate poltergeist who Legoh always challenged to a drinking match. They shared stories of lives at sea. Legoh had the advantage (read: Trauma) of knowing what it was like to be a pirate, so they got along pretty swell.
Legoh was seven shots in before the emotions finally started kicking in. This was the point of the evening that would decide which way his night would swing: Would he be a happy drunk, singing and talking to everyone? Would he sink in to the waiting warm arms of despair, the one that made him cold and crushed and more than alone? Wrapped up in self pity and a sickened anger? Would he be philosophical and empty, nihilistically void of any emotion and able to - for a blessed few moments before he had to puke - just be a part of the canvas that was a bar? Just an odd Mister Mann at a counter staring empty at nothing? He hated and loved every facet of his drunken self, but he found them interesting too. They were a good way to pass the time, when you had utterly lost and been betrayed.
“God-damn you 4kids.” Legoh muttered under his breath.
He froze.
Alice was staring at him,
"Say that a little louder please. Get yourself arrested.” She commented.
“You heard nothing.”
“Uh-huh. You think you should call it a night? Looks like you’re going to have an emo-bender this time.”
Legoh grinned, “You know me so well. Nah. One more shot and then we’ll see. I’m feeling lucky.”
Alice, with her itrulydontgiveaDamnWhatyoudowithyourlifesolongasyoudontmesswithMine - expression turned and served the other customers. Legoh meanwhile practically inhaled his last shot and started seeing colours. He was thankful that his femtomachines were still out of wack. He could really get buzzed these days.
Time cut to him being at a table with Haru again, slapping the teenager on the shoulder and laughing like a madman. He tried to follow another critical rant by CopyCop on the lack of good cuisine in the city, sang a pirate song
What will we do with a drunken sailor
What will we do with a drunken sailor
What will we do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning!
[/i]
Time cut to him peeing in the pub toilet and humming the song. A man told him to shut up and he laughed.
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning!
[/i]
He danced a jig on a relatively free space on the pub, joined by two other scruffy men and the poltergeist. Tiffany stepped up and danced along with them. The floorboards blammed and trammed at the sound of their beating legs.
And then, when people were just about to leave and Legoh was a hopeless mess hugging a wooden round table and drinking his last vodka from a bottle - knowing his future self would curse him for this - he was murmuring in an approximation of a conversation with Haru, equally drunk.
“What?” Legoh slurred.
“They found something called a forge haha.” Haru chuckled. But it was a half-hearted chuckle. He seemed off, somehow. Or maybe Legoh was off and too drunk.
Struggling to keep to his fake accent but failing even more miserably, Legoh looked up at him,
“Forge?”
Haru looked at him, then looked around in that too-obvious way that people who are about to share a secret do then he leaned in,
“It’s foreign architecture. It’s… Not from the city itself. Or maybe it is, but it’s built… Different.”
“A forge that’s built differently. “ Legoh chuckled, “Sorry, Haru, I have no idea what we’re talking about right now.”
He leaned back and felt his brain protest. He slumped onto the table again and gripped it for stability,
“Oh Haruhi I am going to hurl.”
Haru ignored him and looked into his beer, “Captain says it’s what they used to make the Banhammer. Or at least, it’s filled with adminatorium.”
The black essence of moderation. The code that could warp reality. Legoh sobered up a tick and felt his heart pounding, but strangely enough felt more apprehension than anything.
“You should go home, Haru.” He chuckled to try to add humour, “Let’s talk about something else. Work is boooring.”
“I’m going to be with Captain tomorrow but I’m scared. I don’t know. I think there’s no traps or anything but… That much power. I didn’t see any of the fighting here, but I know a lot of people died and I think… I don’t know… Haha.” Haru chuckled half-heartedly, and a silence fell between them.
Legoh had no idea how to proceed. Thankfully, the rising gorge up his throat gave him the perfect excuse. He almost made it to the bathroom before he spewed his guts, and Alice kicked him out with her patented Football drop kick.
Lego landed out on the street, hazy and aching, but his eyes held a glint all of the sudden. It was the sharp glint of a wolf that just saw a hunk of raw meat. In his haggard form he looked terrifying. In his chest he was terrified - terrified of the hope that something like a secret forge could give him.
He looked at his hand and felt his femtomachines stir within his blood. He felt something wash over him, he felt something fall from his eyes, and in that instance - he knew exactly what he must do.