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Rudo struggles. He cusses up a storm as he gets dragged away, limbs pushing against the net he's been caught. His gloves are too big in his hands, and it makes it a clumsy, futile attempt when he tries to jam his fingers in between the space of the net. Not that he has much space to try and do so.
"Agh, somebody shut that kid!" One of his captors say, and Rudo's eyes move to him. He looks at him with anger, burning into his mind his features. His dark hair, his stubble, the disdain with which he looked at Rudo.
Rudo is about to threaten him when a sharp blow to his head blurs the world in a shade of black.
"God, is this kid even alright?" The blonde one asks, scratching at his chin. He throws a handful of trash on the fire pit they've set. Rudo glares at him, bites harder at the makeshift gag they'd put in his mouth. "It's giving me chills, the way he's looking at me."
The man with the dark hair laughs at his partner as he stands from the log he'd been sitting on. "Rei, you can't just wimp out like that. He's a kid." He walks close to Rudo, stands next to him and becomes Rudo's focus.
He seems to be the apparent ring leader, barking orders. Rudo wants to lunge at him, pummel him until his rage abated. But his hands are rendered useless by the zip tie keeping them locked by the wrists, and the rope that keeps his range short, tied to his ankle.
The guy crouches down to Rudo's eye level, and he smiles at him affably. Rudo doesn't buy it, looks at him with more anger.
"Say, if you stop glaring daggers, kid, we can share our meal with you." Rudo huffs his way, doesn't pull back on the murderous intent he has. "No?" He tilts his head, and amusement shines in his eyes, dark as his hair. "Pity." He stands up, and Rudo's eyes track him. The guy turns to Rei, "Well. You know what one does when kids misbehave, Rei? You gotta teach them a lesson." He looks at Rudo from the corner of his eye.
Without a warning, a sharp pain tears through Rudo's face. His ears ring before he can process what's happened, and his right eye twitches behind his closed eyelid with the pain that pulses through.
"Bet he won't be glaring after this, ha!" Rudo is disoriented by the blow, and he faintly feels a trickling of blood run down his face. His brain rattles inside his skull as his head is jerked by his hair. He can barely focus on the guy's blurred frame. "Aw, it's already swelling."
Rudo wants to kill him. His arms jerk upwards, and the zip tie cuts into his flesh. It only fuels his anger.
"You're lucky you are wanted alive, kid." He says, smiling. "I would gouge those devil eyes from you, otherwise. From the heavens, and red? I'm sure they'd fetch a good price."
Rudo stills. How had they know he was from the Sphere? His clothes from there had been replaced long ago. The rumors of a Spherite being amongst the Cleaners was well known that even Rudo had heard about it, but as far as they all knew, nobody had specific details. Unless...
Had the Raiders put another bounty on him? Rudo seethes. Sending people like this, to set up an ambush, seemed more cowardly and convoluted than them directly handling the job, but Rudo didn't put it past them. Or maybe it was someone else. He remembers his first day on the Ground. People from the Sphere were nothing more than mere animals for many, held with such contempt and desire for revenge.
"Man, you'd think that being with the Cleaners would grant you access to better clothing."
The man lets go of Rudo's hair, and he crouches down, reaches for Rudo's gloves. Rudo pulls his arms away from the touch, and the guy laughs in his face when his own weight keeps his hands in place. The guy's grin is nasty, as his hands pull Rudo's 3R away from his.
Pain explodes when his gloves are removed, and Rudo winces when it joins the painful throbbing of his head. Nausea hits him and Rudo sinks his teeth against the cloth in his mouth. He didn't have enough time to brace himself from the pain. When the tape covering the cracks is removed, the water leaks freely, and Rudo hollows alongside the soothing feeling that escapes him, now that his hands are exposed. Now that his gloves didn't offer him comfort.
"Argh, those are such ugly scars." Rei says, disgust in his voice. Rudo's eyes, unfocused, search for his face.
It's the same disgust. It's the same disdain. Eyes fixated on Rudo's scarred hands, the expression is mirrored in his three captors. Rudo feels the rug pulled from under him. It's hard not to fall onto the same knee-jerk reaction of anger and self-loathing from back then. It's hard not to think himself undesirable and disposable when he's seen those looks so many times in his childhood years.
Rudo's thoughts burn with the memory of Regto. His grief opens the cracks and rage fills the broken container. He is going to kill them. Those are his gloves. Regto's gloves. The gloves Regto gave him. His Vital Instrument. The last thing he had to remember Regto by.
He shakes with the anger and he lunges at the guy, who jumps back in response. Pathetically, he falls onto his face, slams his chin against the ground as the zip tie tightens around his wrists. The rope digs into the skin of his ankle, a chaffing sensation that is a shadow of a flame, a speckle against the boiling anger that grows within him.
Those are his gloves. He wants them back. His free leg kicks against the ground, and Rudo does his best to stand up, even as his arms and leg fight each other to offer any type of leverage.
"Oh-ho. Now that's such a nasty look, indeed. Are these two old, beat up things important to you, kid?" Rudo cusses at him. He screams, muffled as it is, and trashes against the ground. "Lesson not learned, I see."
The kick delivered to the side of his face covers Rudo's vision in white, and his anger lies still for a moment as the shock blankets his mind. His cheek feels swollen already, and Rudo takes a shaky breath to gather himself.
"Children should listen to adults, you see. If you'd behaved we wouldn't be here." He sighs as he crouches again. His free hand tugs at the piece of clothing around Rudo's head roughly, and Rudo lets a pained whine as it forcefully presses against his beaten face. The gag shoved inside his mouth is forcefully removed, too, and Rudo's teeth ache in its absence.
"I'm going to kill you." Rudo growls, anger flaring back up now with the outlet. "I'm going to kill you!"
"Now you've gone and anger him proper, Lu." Rei says from where he is sat. He throws more trash onto the fire, and it crackles with the same sharpness Rudo's anger does. "He really is loud." He leans over to his other companion, a bald man whose silence had been broken a handful of times. "You should teach him a few things, eh." Rei elbows the man in jest, and he laughs to himself.
"Don't mock me. Don't make fun of me, you dipshits! You sacks of crap! I'll kill you all!" Rudo's pupils constrict, and his breathing comes out in loud puffs of air. The pain and the rage are twisting together inside him, and he feels himself unravel when the breeze runs through his naked hands.
The leader, Lu, clicks his tongue, and Rudo braces himself for another hit. It doesn't come, instead, the man retreats with 3R on his hands. "It's like a feral beast without a leash." He laughs, "I take off his gloves and he explodes. A temperamental beast usually gets put down, you know?"
Rudo snarls at him, twists on the ground to get nearer, to follow after his Vital Instrument.
"If you don't beat them into submission, that is." He stops by the fire pit, and Rudo's heart seizes with the threat made.
3R, dangled atop the flames.
Rudo feels lightheaded, torn between the howling anger that shakes him and the crushing fear.
Anything but that. It was Regto's gift, to him. 3R was his, the one and only thing he could ever claim to be his, truly. The one connection to the father he'd lost. The one thing that made him useful to the Cleaners. 3R was key to get to the Sphere and get his revenge. 3R was what soothed the crippling pain that tore through his hands.
"Please." Rudo's voice is small, a meek plea. He stills. He struggles with the breath that fights to escape him.
Lu's grin is sadistic, and Rudo's heart clenches with the recognition. The flames bathe 3R in hues of orange, and the crackling of the fire is so loud to Rudo's ears. His gloves are so close to it. And the flames dance, capricious in nature, teasing Rudo with climbing those necessary inches to catch onto 3R.
Rudo presses his lips into a fine line, and his breathing becomes erratic, fearful.
"Ahh, I see." Lu turns to his companions, and the shift in his body dip 3R ever so slightly towards the flames. Rudo's heart plummets. "Bet these are those Vital Instruments the Cleaners use to fight Trash Beasts."
"Those ragged gloves?" Rei asks, incredulous. "What is he going to do? Squeeze the life out of the Beasts? I thought the Cleaners fought with weapons!"
"Hey, kid." Rudo's eyes focus on Lu when he's called, and the rapid movement of his chest presses against his arms, shocking Rudo with the pain the touch elicits. The sensitivity of his hands always crawled up his arms. "Is this your Vital Instrument?"
Rudo blinks, tries to wrestle his fear and his anger down. He has to play nice. He has to meet them in the middle. He has to make them listen. He has to calm down until he figured a way to get 3R back.
"Yeah." Rudo chokes on air as the pain makes it difficult to breathe. It's seeping into his thoughts, making them fuzzy.
"No wonder you're behaving." Lu chuckles. "Hey, Si, keep them with you, alright?" Lu throws 3R towards the bald guy, and Rudo's eyes don't leave them. He needs 3R, he wants it back. He needs them. "What were you saying there, about killing us?"
Rudo swallows, shakes his head. "I was... joking."
Lu laughs heartily, a belly laugh that startles Rudo. He walks back to Rudo, and Rudo spares him a glance, before his eyes focus on 3R again. He can't help but cling to the memory of how it feels around his hands. Grounding, protective, a warmth that soothed the sharp pain. Rudo's thoughts are quickly leaving his grip like grains of sand and Rudo fears he will pass out due to the pain.
It's hard to breathe.
"You are funny, kid. Tell you what. You behave nicely, and the gloves will stay safe."
Rudo mumbles some sort of agreeing sound. It's hard to fully process the guy's words when his chest rubs against his arms, when it shifts them enough for them to scrape against the rough ground. It feels like his skin is being shredded away from him, and Rudo wants to struggle again, now more desperate than angry.
"It's not polite to mumble, you know. Speak up."
"I will. I'll, I'll behave." He just wants 3R back. It's been a while since he had been without his gloves for so long, and with every passing second the darkness on the corner of his vision creeps closer to the center.
"Not polite to not look to who you are speaking with, either."
The words take a moment to register, and once they do, Rudo frantically moves his good eye towards Lu.
"Atta boy, you learn quick."
Rudo will kill him, he will. He vows to do so, as soon as he frees himself. His arms twitch in response to the pain that crashes against him, and the zip tie on his wrists dig against his skin. It offers a moment of clarity, the chaffing pain on his skin. He blinks, waves the fogginess in his head away. He shifts his tied leg, takes in the clarity given by the localized pain. The pain, along with the tingling sensation of the numbness that's spread due to the awkward angle in which his leg is at, is a breath of fresh air. So Rudo breathes.
"You would think the Cleaners would take better care of their own. Or, at least take care of something as valuable as a Sky person."
Rudo bites his tongue. He doesn't yell at him. He keeps to himself the words that threaten to spill.
You ambushed us, he wants to scream.
"They probably won't even miss you, kid." Rudo's anger burns bright again, now that the pain in his arms has receded a bit. It crackles like the fire, grows as big as the flames that are being fed. "What, no fight now?"
It's a force of habit, when Rudo glares as best as his can, but he quickly shakes himself off, forces himself to soften the way he looks at Lu. Behave nicely, Lu had said. So Rudo will, until he gets 3R back. He looks away, not trusting himself to be able to keep his rage at bay.
"That does make things boring, though. Ah well." Lu's footing shifts next to Rudo, and suddenly there is a pressure atop Rudo's head. It grinds against it, pulling at his hair and making his chin dig painfully against the ground beneath him. "You're wanted alive, so I guess I can play with you a bit, so long as I don't kill you."
Bastard. The piece of shit was a sadist, and Rudo's thoughts burn with the violence he wants to show, with the retaliation he aches for but can't reach for. This isn't like back then, when he was a kid. This isn't like back then, when Regto chided him for ending up trading blows with the other kids. The other kids had been mean to him, they had teased and pushed Rudo around. But even back then, Rudo knew there to be no malice, nothing but children repeating after behaviors learned from the slums. Threating those they thought below them the way apostles did.
Lu was a sadist, and he kept punching down. Rudo wanted to kill him.
"So just lay down and take it, kid. Unless you want your gloves burned to ashes."
He laughs at Rudo, and Rudo's thoughts are scrambled. He wants to kill him. But he doesn't want to endanger the only memento he had of Regto. The pressure on his head relents, and Rudo doesn't have time to breathe before a kick to his ribs knocks him to his side. He gasp as his arm scrapes against the ground, a sensation that grates against his bones.
It crackles loud in his head, the pain blistering hot. Rudo's vision swims.
Rudo's vision blurs and swims and Rudo screams as a crushing pressure steps onto his arm. White and black spots dance before him and Rudo's thoughts are burned to ashes. Nothing but the pain remains in his head and he writhes on the ground, tries to escape the pressure that is so insistent against the tenderness of his bones. He feels like they might snap. He feels as if they are connected by a weak thread, strained under the pressure, ready to snap in two.
Rudo gasps, desperate attempts to breathe. But the air doesn't flow to his lungs, it remains stuck by his throat, burning it.
"Now, that's some noise I can get behind!" Lu says, and Rudo clenches his teeth together when his fingers get stepped on. The bastard is putting a lot of his weight behind it, and Rudo's free leg kicks against the ground in a frantic attempt to find relief.
Cotton. That's what Rudo's hands are. Flimsy, easily forced thin against the ground under the weight. They soak up the pain, saturate him as it travels up his body. Rudo's spit trickles down the side of his lips and he pants, frantic. Rudo's hands catch flame and Rudo's whole body shakes with the needles that get stuck in his spine, making him tense, making him stiff. It's all pain and Rudo's vision is nothing but a blur of colors.
It's hard to hear anything that isn't the agony that comes at him, blow after blow, an unrelenting ache that both tears him open to a million pieces and crushes him to a small pinpoint.
When the pressure on his hands moves away, Rudo howls still, the breeze of the afternoon like nails raking down his bruised flesh. His face throbs from where he's trashed it against the ground, but that doesn't compare to the agonizing razor-sharp pain on his arms.
Desperately, he flattens his hands against the ground, focuses on the pressure and the fire it burns him with. It soothes him not, when the throbbing, bursting pain that smashes against his arms is like a tsunami.
Rudo retches at the pain, and his throat seizes. Pain gets stuck between his molars and he throws up. The blurred colors give way to black as he feels his conscience splinter with the weight of his pain.
The last thing he feels is a pain like lighting traveling up his arms, booming like thunder.
Rudo comes back to in crawling haze. His eyes flutter open and he feels his right one open only so much. His face feels swollen, and when he breathes, the sharp pain that shoots through his arms jerks him awake. He whines, and he looks at his arms.
He feels like breaking down when 3R is in his vision, when the red, angry lines around his wrist are devoid of the zip tie. Relief washes over him and Rudo thinks he can withstand the pain, so long as his Vital Instrument is with him. They feel warm around his sore arms, and Rudo basks in the feeling, in the softness of the material against his skin. He's worn them for so long.
"Finally awake, Rudo, boy?"
A new kind of cold grips Rudo at the voice, and he tears his eyes away from his hands towards it. Jabber's sitting on the log where Rei had been— the sight beyond himself threatens him with nausea again, and Rudo's eye widens at the viscera spread across the ground.
They are all death. They are all torn. There is blood everywhere and Rudo's stomach sinks.
"What? Not used to the sight?" Jabber laughs, amused, and the sound both grates on his nerves and confuses him. Rudo forces his eyes back to Jabber, refuses to look beyond the Raider's giddy expression. "Oh! I know! Perhaps you wanted to kill them yourself. Ahh, I see, I see." Jabber rambles on, nods to himself as he looks around him. "Betcha ya wanted to. I know I would if some bastards decided to toy with me without letting me play."
Rudo keeps quiet, holds onto the pressure of the wall behind him. He is still trying to piece things together. Whether to be relieved that Jabber had... saved him? Or not, he is still unsure.
"It's such a shame, though. Weak, all of them!" Jabber sighs dramatically, and his face twists in a show of disappointment. Rudo doesn't know what to make of it. "I thought for sure one of them would be fun. But nope!" He shrugs, fixes his eyes on Rudo. "Makes sense they would tie you up and take off your Watchman gloves. Otherwise you'd have wiped the floor with them." Jabber snickers to himself before standing.
Rudo tenses, lets his eyes wander next to him to try and find anything he could use as a weapon. He fights back the nausea that climbs up his throat with the gory sight before him.
"Don't be nervous, Rudo." Hard not to, when you had your enemy in tip top shape approaching you after you had been beaten bloody. Rudo's encounters with Jabber always involved a fight, and he feared he had come to retrieve 3R for Zodyl. "I'm not here for a fight, if that's what ya think."
Rudo flinches when he finds nothing within reach, and he forces his sight back onto Jabber. He stands before him, hands in the pockets of his pants. Rudo can't help but notice his long belt, dragging through the pools of blood on the floor. A mess.
"Nor your gloves. Boss ain't given me that mission, at least."
Rudo clenches his hands before him. Prepares to throw a punch if needed. He couldn't relax in front of a Raider, least of all in front of Jabber, of all people. He was a masochist after all, prone to lash out in his desire for a fight.
"So... why are you here?"
Jabber seems taken aback by the question, brows furrowing in confusion. As if Rudo had asked him something alien.
"Huh? Taking a stroll?" He has to be up to something, no way does a Raider takes a stroll and saves an enemy. It made no sense to Rudo. "Just happened to come across them. And you."
"I'm your enemy."
Jabber stares at him, wide eyed. There is an awkward silence, before Jabber breaks into hysterics, laughing loud.
"Enemy?! No, no! You got it twisted, my friend." If not enemies, then what? What did Jabber see Rudo as? "We are both predators, see?" He points a hand at Rudo's hands. Mankira's rings catch the reflection of the setting sun and Rudo's insides crawl at the fact Jabber saw him as an equal. "And I want a fair fight against you. I haven't seen all you have to offer, Rudo. I want us to fight until one of us bleeds to death, you see."
Jabber smiles, the same sick grin Rudo's seen him wear multiple times, eager for violence. Rudo's skin raises in goosebumps and he wants to tell Jabber to go to hell.
"So until the boss tells me otherwise, you better stay alive." Rudo huffs, finds himself oddly appreciative that Jabber's weird line of thought had been what had put him out of his bad spot. "And if the boss tells me to kill you, or get your gloves, you better put up a hell of a fight. Understood?"
Rudo clenches his teeth. But he thinks he understands Jabber's language, when he thinks back to his own anger. To the way violence was such an easy response to him. Jabber's violence wasn't reactive like his, though, it was proactive.
"I'll beat you to a pulp, Jabber. You mark my words."
Jabber's eyes shine, and he bites his lower lip. Rudo practically feels him buzz with emotion.
"I'll hold you to your words, my friend."
"Not your friend." Rudo quickly corrects.
Jabber laughs, steps back to give Rudo space. "Friends play with friends, right?"
Rudo's nose scrunches in his distaste. It makes his face throb. He wants to say how would he know, but having come to know Remlin, Guita and Dear, Rudo knows that Jabber's statement is true. Unfortunately, Rudo knows that Jabber's idea of play is interchangeable with fight. He supposes he's fought with Dear a few times, even if not with his fists.
"Don't worry, Rudo. I'll force you to, in any case." How is Rudo not supposed to worry, with that statement? "Oh, right. Here." Jabber pulls his other hand from his pocket, and Rudo perks at the recognition of his choker. It had been taken off him somewhere along the line. "Call your friends over once I'm gone." Jabber throws the choker his way and Rudo's hand moves to catch him. He flinches at the pain, but refuses to budge his fingers from around it. "Unless you want me staying to fight them."
"I would rather you not..."
"Great! Then I'll see ya around, Rudo. Remember your promise next time we cross paths! I want to bleed all over the ground." He barks a short, dry laugh. "Like these losers!"
Rudo grimaces at the reference, keeps his eyes off the ground. He waits until Jabber leaves his sight before standing up. He doesn't want to call his friends over to this place. Nor does he wants to wait for them surrounded by dead bodies and drying blood. He waits until he leaves the gruesome site behind before putting his choker and describing his whereabouts.
He presses his hands close to his chest, absentmindedly rubbing at the marks on his wrists, grateful to have 3R back on his hands. Grateful towards Jabber and his unpredictable nature. If anything, Rudo would make sure to keep his word. Beating the shit out of Jabber would be the least he could do to repay the favor.