Chapter Text
Fist on the throttle, the moped is roaring in all its well-aged fury. Exhaust whips back in a ribbon trail as you zip past reflective road markers with impressive speed, a line of pulsing red glowing in the dust as the wind screams in your ears for you to slow down. The stars are your companions that stand by and watch, peaking out behind the wafting, hazy clouds of smog, a tell-tale sign of civilization not far from here. Despite the hazard, the air out here is minty and fresh, it lightens the gravity holding you down and douses your skin in icy, burning alertness.
Today might be the day, but none of that matters when you're free from all burdens for an ephemeral moment.
Trees flank you on either side, new growth bouncing back from last the land was perturbed, but the light of the flashing street lamps possess the stalks and branches, casting shadows that seem to spring to life and outstretch toward your trailing wheels. They merge with the unleveled tar that was meant to fill the craters in the asphalt and wait to ambush your bike which if caught, would sputter out beneath you in slippery, fatal outcry. Unfortunately for them, you're accustomed to worse conditions, and your vehicle remains steady and confident, treading over potholes with relative ease.
This borrowed automobile was your Bai Long Ma, your trusty steed on this never-ending journey to nowhere.
But for now, you come to a slow stop and spin yourself around. No matter how far you go, the city always, always pulls you back in.
.
He's not waiting for you today.
The streets are packed in disarray with redirected drivers following the latest crater dug smack dab in the middle of the city, but as they always are, construction workers are already stationed at their posts. Repairs aren't expected to take longer than a week with the current technology, all thanks to the recent high demand for it. However, some part of you wondered, if the civil committees invested their trillions of dollars into combatting the attacks and not sweeping up the carnage, the need would have ever been raised in the first place. Still, it was impressive that they managed to put up the skeletons of toppled over and demolished skyscrapers in just a few days.
Without an appearance from your friendly critic, however, you couldn't help but feel like your routine had been set off.
You hated to say it, but you were becoming too dependent on his snide remarks for comfort. This was the game of here, resisting change meant nothing but bad fortune, the same went for the course of your day. If you let it get to you, something worse would come for you. Sowing the seeds, or whatever. You still hadn't yet had an opportunity to thank him for the coffee, his timing was incredible, almost as if he had a sixth sense about him or something.
On second thought, you really hope not. It's just the paranoia catching up to you, it has to be.
The leather on your seat is warm from the sun, and the cooler bounces behind you, the contents each wrapped up in their individual bags that crinkle every time you hit a bump. If you had the money, you'd probably be ordering today as well. It seems to be a good day for it.
.
Great day for it. There's a group of kids just out of school drawing with chalk along and picking blades of grass to whistle with. You listen to their half-successful attempts and lean your head against the bench, amused and content. The ice in your drink has been melting, and the sweat dripping down the sides falls onto your lap, leaving a rim mark on your work pants. On that thought, it's supposed to rain in a few days, and you're looking forward to the storms, the plants really need it, the city really needs it. The rain sweeps away the debris that would usually tear up the tires on your bike, and clears away some of the smog that accumulates in the more densely populated parts of downtown.
School. Sometimes during the week, you forget that children have school, and it always makes you laugh when you remember.
The kids glance your way but don't seem to mind coexisting in the same space as you. They tell each other stories and play their games, content to enjoy their simple life with their friends. The leaves of the trees rattle in the slight breeze before it sweeps through the path, picking up a little girl's hair. She drops her chalk to push it out of her face and, without realizing it, smeared powder all over her nose. It's cute, and once the boys see it, they suddenly get the idea to take their chalk-covered fingers and paint on each other's faces. They start shrieking and running around, living in their own little world. It looks fun.
A man with glasses sits next to you, dropping a book in his lap. You're caught off guard and scoot closer to the armrest, and he realizes he must have startled you because he's suddenly looking at you with an apologetic smile.
"Hey there." He lifts his hand to wave. "Nice weather today."
You weren't hoping to have to keep up with any small talk, but he doesn't press you for a response. Instead, he turns to look in the direction the kids ran off to. More curious about the book in his lap, you catch a few Hanzi but struggle to decipher them before diverting your attention away so as not to stare.
The air out here isn't perfect, but it's notably cleaner than along the streets, getting caught in the exhaust wafting off the cars stuck at another light. The streets aren't very far, so you can still hear loud music blasting from the occasional passing car, and the motorcyclists out revving their engines for the fun of it. It's a peaceful scene, a rare moment of normalcy.
Until you hear the footsteps coming from behind. "Tang, we gotta--"
The guy next to you, Tang presumably, stands up and blocks the new guy from view. "Well well well, MK!" Something about the way he swerved to put himself against the back of the bench seemed forced as if he'd been puffing out his shoulders in order to appear more confident, or larger.
"Tang...?" Perhaps more of an obstacle.
He's tapping his nail on the wood, his finger-wagging in a way that's hidden behind his back. Before you can fully figure out what he means, there's the butt end of a very familiar-looking pole close to smacking your cheek. It... went right through him.
Once the puff of smoke clears, the two of you lock eyes, and you can only realize just a bit too late that it was a warning.
.
Bound. The skin on your arms is raw from brush burns and bruises, but even worse is not being able to reposition your body and having to deal with the singe of scratching rope against the sensitive spots. He claims your captivity is for safety reasons, but you wonder who's safety he is more concerned with.
Come time for sundown, there's a very good chance you'll be reported as missing. At the very least, you'll be missing your shift, and the complaints filed for undelivered food are sure to tip off someone in management. You have never missed a day, as you are well aware you cannot afford it, and when they find the moped abandoned in the parking lot, they will know all that they need to.
Of course there were onlookers, but nobody, not a single person stuck a toe out of line to help you, and they'd probably deny seeing anything if questioned, not that there'd really be any real search. 'Better it's someone else' those who sat by and watched probably thought. 'Don't get involved.' as they hurried away or stuck their heads down, and the sad part was that you didn't blame them, not any of them. Missing people end up dead.
The parks were supposed to be one of the safest places to be, and yet this volatile city couldn't even let them have that.
Looking back at how you'd gotten here, your mind could only remember vague sensations and sounds as you were slung over shoulder and carried off, bike right in front of you. You couldn't see the vehicle as he stepped into it, but the fact that it was parked next to yours only made half-consciously watching it fade out of view all the more painful.
Once the complacent, stress-induced state you were in wore off, you found that you'd been imprisoned in some sort of... cockpit. It looked atrociously high tech, alien, magical, mechanical even, with the veins of an unknown power source exposed along the walls and floor similar to the roads constructed for hovering vehicles along the streets of this city's 'Millionaire Row'. This kind of technology isn't your normal, but it is commonplace, which either meant he somehow stole an entire technological, contraption? Or your captor had the means to afford it. Neither of which makes the outcome much better.
Speaking of, he seemed to be standing in front of what seemed to be the control panel. He hung his head for a brief moment, acknowledging that he knew you were looking but not offering any words. Looking at him from the back, he seems so normal, so casual, like someone you'd pass by on the street, but there's something in his posture that ticks you off to there being something wrong, and that's the dip in his shoulders, there's something unusual about the way he carries himself. Otherwise, against the wall of machinery, he sticks out like a sore thumb, like he's just a normal guy that wasn't meant to be driving one of these things.
But anyone can be one of them. You should have never, ever for a second forgotten that.
.
"Wah, MK! What the heck?!" There's a green blade pressed to your chest, and you're trying to stay calm, but just a single touch is enough to flay some of the outer strands of the thick rope currently binding you. The ship hasn't even been docked for long, but the moment you felt the landing, the hatch opened up, and in came glowing dagger girl.
She really wasted no time in unsheathing her weapon and pressing it directly to your chest, and she might waste even less after deciding what to do with that weapon if you did anything out of line.
"Wait, Mei! I can explain! Please dont-"
You feel the pressure increasing. "Don't what? You can't just go tying people up MK!"
So, hold on, that actually sounds like... rational thinking. Are you hearing this right?
"You alright? Did he hurt you?" Her finger tugs away at the incision made from just grazing it against the threads. It's another one of those, tech-y things, by the looks of it.
Giving you a good look over, she stands and... squares up, putting some distance between him and yourself. "You better explain yourself MK, all of it this time."
.
It all happened in just a second, but you just flung yourself out of an aircraft without realizing that it sat docked at least a couple feet in the air. It sounded worse than it felt, with everything so numb at this point. You just had the wind knocked out of you, and you're maybe dying, but chances are you're just suffering from a nasty aftershock.
"You alright there, little buddy? That was quite the tumble!" A huge, huge hand grasps your shoulder to as if that'd somehow help the situation, but you don't dare look up to see who's captured you now. Suddenly, cats.
...Cats?
"Seems my friends here can sense that you're mega stressed! That's not good!" No kidding. Doesn't nearly dying a bunch of times in one day sort of do that to you? He crouches down and goes to flip you, and you're met with the hugest, bluest, ginger-est man you've ever seen in your life. His hair is swaying 'majestically' in the slightly salty breeze as he flashes what looks like a stereotypically perfect smile at you. "Don't worry though! Everything's gonna be alright-" "SANDY!! Sandy, Sandy!" Again, you'd run but you're literally being overrun with cats, fat, heavy, furry cats. Where did all these cats come from?!!
"Huh? Oh! Looks like my bud needs me- I'll be right back- with some chillaxing tea! You're gonna love it." He pats your head so gently that you barely feel it, because he seems to be trying to come across as gentle. "What's up MK?" His burly voice shouts over the seagulls and the salty breeze as he stands and leaves you with his unexplained horde of literal cats. That's the kind of volume you'd expect from such a tough-looking guy, but his persona?
You've never actually hallucinated a windows startup error sound before now.
*Gasp!!* Fine reaction, Mei. "Oh no!! Look what you've done, MK!!!" "ME?? HOW IS THIS MY FAULT??!" You're making no efforts to move this time.
Out of the many difficult foes you've faced today, you were defeated easily by a blue man and his massive, fluffy army of therapy cats. Or, well, technically fall damage. What an absurd way to die.
.
"Mei." You were left with her in the 'relaxation lounge' as Sandy had dubbed it. You wanted to talk, but you were also curious about... whatever it was she was doing to that poor house plant. "Hmm? Yeah? What's up?" She perked right up, flipping the pages of her book of dragon stickers, looking for one to place on top of the first layer that already lay on the terracotta pot.
You weren't really sure how to start a conversation with her, so you sort of sat awkwardly as she waited for you to say something. There were probably a lot of questions you could have asked, but nothing came to the forefront once you had her attention, so you slunk back into a literal pile of cats and pillows, resting against the smell of sandalwood and tea. You haven't known him even an entire hour yet, but you're pretty sure everything Sandy owns is probably covered in cat hair and actual cats. How a man can manage to have so many cats and not smell like... cat, is beyond you.
Mei shrugged, going back to her 'arts and crafts project'.
Well, it wasn't exactly that you couldn't come up with anything to say, it was more so you didn't want to be disappointed by the answers, or lack thereof. You're not exactly used to navigating these sorts of problems, and at some point, you've come to expect not being able to trust anyone else. Look where trust got you. You let your guard down and thought nothing of a friendly stranger sitting next to you on a park bench. Really, how unreasonable was that? What's the lesson you're supposed to be learning from all of this, anyway? What, that no one is safe? Did you really need such a harsh and heavy reminder?
One of the cats batted your hand, begging for attention. It's just the stress, it's your body reacting to chemicals and that's it. But apparently, these are 'therapy cats', and how ironic that they flocked to you the moment they met you. Not the best sign, but life in the city is tough, and being kidnapped is a huge stress producer for any regular, normal, sane person. Speaking of normal, you never thought you'd be comforted by a huge blue guy, that definitely wasn't in your book of normal.
.