Realistic or Modern Great Ganbatte!!!

[Wing06]

Taku strode across the rooftops, watching the lively activity below. "No crowds up here," he snickered. He watched as a large group began to form and stopped long enough to see the commotion. It seems five others challenged one fighter. Taku sighed. Teams were useless in a tournament like this. Eventually, everyone would have to turn on one another. Still, Taku couldn't deny that they did make for easier targets, and eliminating teams closed the gap faster than one-on-one matches. "Oh? What have we here?" Taku pondered, crouching down. It seems the solo fighter wouldn't have to go it alone. Two others seamlessly joined the fray, the spirit of sportsmanship trumping dirty tricks. "Let's see what you three are made of," He grinned, taking out his phone and pulling up the profiles for Conner, Donavan, and Kipsang. "Interesting!" His eyes lit up as he scrolled their rankings, eager to watch them in action.

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera had been surprised it hadn't been Donavan who threw the first punch. Which made it even funnier when he said his line of never being one to start a fight. She chuckled but didn't intervene as she observed how quickly the two of them dispatched three of the five attackers. Kipsang certainly didn't act like his age and Rivera could see why he made it past the initial rounds at least. With how much alcohol that must have been in his system still, Rivera had a strong suspicion it wasn't the drink that held Kipsang from going further in the tournament.

There were still two left however. Rivera had wanted to stay out of it but hearing their exchange with Connor riled her up. They had called him a golden ticket, left him, and now came back asking for his card? Idiots.

Besides, there was a volunteer. One of the untouched men had rushed forward to save the other guy currently, and literally, being kicked while he was down by Donavan. Rivera intercepted however, rushing up to him, forcing the guy to turn his attention to her instead. He lunged for her but she swung her right foot back and ducked down, crouched, before suddenly springing back up. There was a small crack as her head collided with the guy's chin, sending him reeling back.

"Querias un boleto dorado, verdad?" Rivera asked in a jeering tone, staring at the last guy. "Pues tienes uno pero para un mal tiempo. ¿Vas a correr o quieres terminar como tus amiguitos? O mejor, porque no te pones de rodillas y pides perdón?"

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor leaned back, avoiding a sloppy straight before attempting to fire one straight back at the man in front of him. Before he could, another one of the group managed to slip behind and grab him, halting his arms and trying to wrestle him into a headlock.

"Let go jackass!" Connor trashed against the man's grip, trying to shake him off and prevent him from competing the lock. He knew how to break a clinch, but that was only when he could plant short hooks into his opponent's sides until they either let go or he could slip out. With the guy being behind him he couldn't throw a punch, or at least not one that would do any meaningful damage. The distraction gave the other man more than enough time to recover. He rushed forward, landing a wide right that threw Connor's head to the side.

Two body blows followed, his body struggling to lean forward as he was forced to stand straight by the headlock. The man, emboldened by his buddy restraining him, wound up a straight aimed right at Connor's nose. Dipping low, he thrust his hips back into his restrainers waist, forcing him to lean forward just enough that a forceful shift of his hips redirected his face directly into the straight thrown by his buddy.

Reeling in pain, the man released his lock and cradled his now probably broken nose. Surging forward, Connor threw a heavy right straight into the stunned man's nose, a sickening crunch sounding out as he was knocked on his ass. Turning around, a short hook caught the second man on the chin. His knees buckled, but before he could collapse onto his knees his head was thrown back by a short uppercut. A final right straight, fired directly at his broken nose, launched him backwards onto the pavement.

Panting, Connor prepared to dodge, expecting another one of the man's group to try and get a swing in. It looked like he didn't need to however, as the rest of the group was easily handled by Donavan, Kipsang, and Rivera. All that was left was the leader of the group, the prick that kicked off the horrible night he was having.

"Get up! Not so tough when you don't have your goons huh?" The man was on the ground, hand raised to fend him off and slowly trying to kick away from Connor as he approached. Approaching the man, he was only a few inches from the man when he suddenly threw some kind of ash right into his face. Stinging pain exploded from his eyes as he fell back with a cry, the man taking his chance and scrambling to his feet before breaking into a mad sprint down the street. Not that Connor could see it as he grasped at his eyes, trying to wipe off whatever was thrown at him and stop the pain.

"Ahh! My fucking eyes!" His back impacted against something solid, heart racing in his ears as his vision consisted mostly of blurry shapes. He tried to keep them open, but each blink was like a fresh sting as they desperately tried to clear the debris. Hand held up defensively, he wildly swiveled his head, ready to lash out at anyone that came close.

Mentioned: BakaTheIdiot PiePillager obscured_light

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Well, that was another one to tally on the board. By now, surely Donavan's streak had only climbed ever higher - maybe he was even in the top 10? Well, that was a tad ambitious. Still, badly beaten and with no morale left to sway them, the lackeys made off before a further beating could find them. Donavan, Rivera, Kipsang and Connor - they all stood their ground, and now the attackers got wise. Well, most of them anyway: the lone ringleader remained, scrambling for grip, before tossing a fistful of gravel into Connor's eyes.

"Hey! Get back here, you little shits!" Donavan initially tried pursuit, but within seconds knew they were too fast for him. Maybe he shouldn't have skipped leg day all those weekends. Still, it's unlikely they would be back after such a ferocious beatdown. Meanwhile, Connor seemed in a bad way, swinging blindly like a kid force-fed broccoli. It probably wasn't even that bad, nothing a little eye bath and patience couldn't eventually wash out, but hey, there's a first time for everything.

Connor was learning.

"You OK kid? Actually, don't answer that." Maybe the kid really did need help. It had been a long, long time since he had gotten a fistful of gravel in his face way back in middle school, and while Donnie wanted nothing more than to just go home and sleep off all the brawling, the last thing he needed right now was more enemies. Clearly, the Ganbatte was great at bringing back people with grudges against him, and he definitely didn't want to draw one with Rivera. Or Connor. Or, hell, even the old man. "Kid, you can settle down, let's get you back to the hotel..."

Clearly, these people were way better than he had given them credit for.

PiePillager obscured_light Shotgunpenguin

 

[PiePillager]

The hotel wasn't far, so it wasn't long before the four turned in for the night in Connor's hotel room. The room was spacious enough to fit them all, possibly more even. Whatever the competitors of the Great Ganbatte were used to in their lives at home, the competitors of this tournament were granted nothing but the best by the committee behind the scenes. Each room was even gifted with complimentary wine bottles (which Kipsang immediately helped himself to) alongside fruit and bread baskets. All with a card thanking them for participating. Almost two fancy for those who would soon become accustomed to grueling battles.

As the night passed and dawn approached, those not awake already would soon be greeted by the sound of the tv blaring. Kipsang, on the couch watching television, was flipping through channels until he finally found the station relaying information regarding the tournament. A long scroll of rankings was displayed, showcasing the top five fighters of the tournament. At number one was a fighter hailing from China named Fengxian. At number two was a mercenary of some renown named Olga Vaslyk and in third place was Bek. The three fighters shared one thing in common in that information on them was very sparse. No footage, and little information regarding their pasts as combatants.

Past tournaments were never shy about supplying the other competitors and the audience with information regarding its top prospects, but this year they were shrouded in mystery. Of the three, Olga was the only one anyone could possibly look up information on and even in that search one would simply find articles on the success of her merc unit before their disbanding two years ago. The lack of information this year was enough to make one suspect a few things were off. Before Kipsang could dwell on such matters, however...

....in came several loud knocks to the hotel room door. After a pause...silence...and a bit of annoyed, barely audible grumbling before the knocks resumed. Kipsang eyed the door and then yawned. "Perhaps...someone else will get it," he stated, dozing back off to sleep.

 

[obscured_light]

The walk wasn't long and the afternoon hadn't been that tiring but Rivera was grateful to turn in all the same. She didn't dwell on the luxuriousness of the room or try to refute the guys' offer of the bed. A good night's sleep was important after all. None of them seemed very inclined to get into a discussion of the day's events either. At least, not yet.

It was quiet when she woke up. Sunlight was creeping into the room but Rivera didn't rise to meet it. Instead, she stayed in bed, staring up at the ceiling and processing the events of the day before. The fighting had begun the moment she had landed and she was fortunate to find more than just enemies. However, the same allies she was sharing the hotel room with were also the very same people she could end up facing at some point. While they were friendly, it would be good to observe. However, Rivera had to make sure to keep her own cards close to her chest.

Sounds from a TV started playing and Rivera's thoughts turned to Connor's theory. Bek was certainly a threat. All the top competitors were but they weren't competition at all if the tournment was rigged in Bek and the others' favor. No, instead they would be walls that Rivera would find incredibly hard to break down alone.

Although it sounded like someone was about to break down the hotel room's door. Rivera waited for someone to get it but when the knocks sounded again, she reluctantly pulled herself out of bed. She pulled her pants on and then bee-lined straight for the door, cracked it open, and peeked out to see who was there.

 

[PiePillager]

On the other side of the door, a thin scrawny man with a scraggly beard stood on the other side. It was Bek. His hands were in his pocket and he looked off to the side, irritably. In general, it appeared as if he didn't seem to want to be there. It would've been a bit odd seeing him up close, given that the sparse information the tournament had on him was that he was 19, while this man couldn't be younger than his late 40s. The fact that his picture was never shown in the fight rankings along with the absence of footage, made things all the more certain that something was off.

Bek sighed and glanced over, though when he saw Riviera, his eyes widened and he gave what could only be described as a "shit-eating" grin. "Well aren't you a welcome sight this morning?" he greeted, leaning against the door. "Your friends awake yet? I've got a message for 'em. For all of you..."

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera raised an eyebrow, cautiously opening the door more to get a better look at the guy but not enough that the guy could look inside the room. She looked him up and down as he talked, squinting suspiciously when he asked of the others. The mighty Bek, looking like the hangover had hit him hard, acting as a messenger boy? Oh boy, would Connor love this.

"Sure!" Rivera said with a bright smile, "One second, though."

Slamming the door in his face, she walked back, her voice hushed as she announced, "Hey! Bek's at our door! Should we let him in or just have him standing in the hallway? Apparently he has a message for us."

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor awoke sprawled out on the floor besides the nice and probably very comfortable bed, his left arm pinned underneath him while his right had somehow found it's way inside of the night-stand's drawer. Despite how he may have looked, he couldn't will himself to rise just yet, as even the carpeting itself was plush and soft enough to sleep on. Eventually as his body regained feeling, save for his left arm that radiated a feeling like television static up the entire limb, it began to protest the unusual position he was in. And so, with a heavy groan into the carpet, he pushed himself up from the floor with his good arm and got to his feet.

He was still wearing the same clothes from last night, although the large wet-mark on his chest was new. His brain slowly started filling in the blanks of what had happened last night after the brawl, and his cheek ached as he remembered the sucker punch he received from the bastard who stole his card. After Connor was blinded, Donavan and the others had helped him get back to the hotel room, the trio acting as his eyes to stop him from bumping into things. After that, Donavan helped run him through how to wash out his eyes in the bathroom sink, which is where the wet-spot had come from after he practically threw himself under the faucet. His eyes were still bloodshot, but at the very least he could see clearly again and without any pain.

Finally, Connor pretty much threw himself at the nearest bed, any feelings of unease with sharing a room with a bunch of random strangers completely forgotten. How he ended up on the floor however was anyone's guess, since his last memory of last night was landing directly into those heavenly pillows and quilted sheets. Gazing at the empty bed, he briefly considered just crawling in and going back to sleep, but the rumbling from his stomach convinced him otherwise. He was starving, and if he remembered correctly the hotel offered a continental breakfast for it's guests.

It seemed like Kipsung had decided to crash on the spacious couch last night, as well as some wine if the empty bottles were any indication. The television was blaring out information of the competition, from how many competitors were still in the running, to who the favorites to win were. Not surprising was when they mentioned Bek, the mysterious and possibly dangerous competitor was topping the boards in all regards. What was surprising was how Kipsung could sleep with the TV on so loud, he was sure that the next room over could probably hear it with how loud he had it up.

It was loud enough that Connor didn't even notice the annoyed knocking at the door, at least not until Rivera came jogging over to see who it was. The door was only opened a crack, the chain lock preventing it from being opened much further than it was. While the rooms were supposedly locked to anyone who didn't have the room-card, he didn't want to chance it after what had happened last night. The memory bringing a slight chill to his spine as he remembered the body in the alleyway, and the heated conversation with Kipsung and Donavan about how the mafia was somehow involved in the competition.

The door slammed shut, knocking Connor out of his thoughts as Rivera spoke in a hushed voice.

"Bek? Like, the Bek? What does he want with us?" He couldn't help but remember Donavan's theory about the man from the night before, even if he didn't believe that he was responsible in the first place. Shaking his head, he lowered his voice and responded.

"Keep him outside, and tell him to tell us the message. What if this is just a trick to get into the room and try and eliminate us all?"

Mentioned: BakaTheIdiot PiePillager obscured_light

 

[druidquest]

Thin shards of orange sunrise squeezed their way into the dark, narrow alley, fragile fingers reaching just far enough to brush the top of Mergo’s pale hair where she reclined on her throne of crates and boxes. She rifled through a black leather wallet, idly tossing IDs and credit cards out into a growing pile on the ground before clicking her tongue in annoyance.

“Ugh, doesn’t anyone carry proper bank cards anymore?” she tutted, flicking the wallet at a man’s forehead and picking up another. The man grunted where he lay collapsed on the dirty ground, the impact rousing him back from unconsciousness.

“Oho!” Mergo pocketed the pitiful wad of cash out of the latest wallet before tossing it over her shoulder, swinging her legs over the edge of the crates and leaning forward to peer at this recent arrival to the waking realm. “¡Buenos días, amigo! ¿Puedes hablar?”

The man groaned, trying to prop himself up on one elbow and spitting a wad of blood from his mouth. “Cállate,” he wheezed through a sharp pain in his side. “Tu acento lastima mi cerebro.”

Mergo’s brow knit itself into a knot. “¿Preferirías que te lastimara en otro lugar?”

The man almost gave her a look as though he were genuinely considering the offer. Instead his gaze traced the crumpled forms of his buddies, his expression falling. He drew a shaky breath into bruised ribs and lay back on the ground. “English,” he muttered after a moment. “We- we speak English.”

“Do you really?”

“No,” he admitted. “No, but is… is more better. Your Spanish-”

“¡Mi español está bien!” Mergo snapped. “¡Soy fluido!”

The man was silent for a long moment, tilting his head back to look at her before laying back down properly. “English. Please.”

Mergo’s lips tightened into an invisible line. Unbelievable. She was really getting sassed by a guy who couldn’t even stand right now. She popped her lips apart, considering her options for the moment. These guys were undoubtedly pathetic, but they were still her only lead right now. Maybe it was better to humor this dude’s absurd request if it meant she could get this over with sooner.

“Fine!” She hopped off the boxes, leaning over her would-be informant with her hands on her hips. “We’ll speak English then. Since my perfectly good Spanish is so hard on your delicate little ears. Does that work for you, ol’ buddy ol’ pal?”

He stared up at her, a sense of understanding in his eyes suggesting his grasp of the English language wasn’t as poor as he was pretending. “...Yes.”

“Great!” Mergo’s hand shot out, grabbing the scruff of the guy’s shirt and hauling him up with one hand. He shouted out in pain at the rough handling, eyes squeezing shut. With all the delicacy of a brick Mergo tossed him aside, sending him crashing into her makeshift throne of garbage where he slumped into a sitting position.

Now she didn’t have to stare at the ground while she spoke to him.

“First question!” she announced to her mostly unconscious audience. She whipped the wayward kid’s phone out of her back pocket, dangling it in front of her first interrogee. “You spent last night with a foreign kid, correct? Partyin’ it up, hittin’ the town on his dime?”

“Creo que tengo las costillas rotas,” he whimpered, clutching his side as he took shaky breaths.

Mergo whistled sharply, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Focus! Did you or did you not hang out with a Great Ganbatte challenger last night?”

“Great Gan…” His eyes opened slowly as he repeated in recognition, head beginning to nod vaguely in a way that probably wasn’t a return to unconsciousness. “Y-yes. He-” The man squinted, considering his circumstances with more clarity than he had the entire precious night. “He was- He… nice boy. Foreigner, no know anything. We gave him… special tour.”

“Fantastic. Great start. And where did you see him last?”

“I-” He faltered, eyes finding their way from the phone in Mergo’s hand to the GG card hanging from Mergo’s waist. Mental gears churned. “You- you fight him? Challenger?”

“Errand girl,” she corrected. “Answer now, please.”

“...I can lead you to him,” the man answered slowly. He raised one hand, pointing limply between himself and his friends. “We… we also get beat by him. If you also challenger, you fight, no? Fight him.”

The hand holding the phone dropped to her side as a beleaguered sigh escaped Mergo’s nose. This guy didn’t really know when to quit, did he? What a pain.

“Okay.” She stuffed the phone back in her rear pocket, brushing the hair back from her face with her free hand. She stepped toward the man slumped against the crates and boxes in the alley, any pretense of amusement or amiability vanishing with the shadow that fell over her face. One heeled boot rose up to the man’s shoulder, pressing down with deliberate slowness. He cried out with fear and pain, the crates and boxes behind him shifting and collapsing as he was pushed down, down, down, until the only thing keeping him from lying flat on his back was a single crushed cardboard box.

Mergo rested one elbow on her knee, leaning forward until their faces were barely a foot apart, separated only by the length of her shin and the heel digging into the man’s collarbone. When she spoke, each word was deliberate and carefully enunciated.

“I understand if my initial introduction to your little posse may have given you the wrong impression of the dynamic between us.” The man’s eyes flew to where his friends lay about the alley as she spoke just loudly enough that only he could hear, as though they were sharing a special, intimate secret. “Allow me to free you of this unfortunate misconception. I do not care about your petty crimes against naive little foreign boys. I am not offering a chance for proxy revenge against poor decisions blowing up in your worthless, shortsighted face. I am performing one small errand at the request of one of my people, and your clumsy attempts to manipulate are slowing me down.” Her foot pressed down harder, drawing another whimper out of him. “Now answer the question.”

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Spoiler: The Night Before + Flashback (skip for current day)

The rest of the night went off mostly without a hitch. The squad made it back to Connors admittedly luxurious room, and it took mere moments for Kipsang to find rest. Good for him. Donavan spent the larger half of the evening keeping Connor's head in a small pool of water to get the gravel out of his eyes - thankfully, that seemed to do the trick. It'd be one pretty humiliating story if he got kicked out of the Ganbatte losing to somebody who wasn't even competing. Afterwards, he yanked a pillow off of the king bed and threw it to the ground, keeping his back straight on the carpeted floor - just how he liked it.

And that should've been the night. But it wasn't.

Donavan had been having sleep problems for years now, but tonight seemed to be exceptional. He had run out of melatonin gummies in his jacket, and even the exhaustion of the day wasn't quite enough to throw him to a rest. For a long time, he laid there, staring at the ceiling - waiting, hoping for sleep. This wasn't the first or even the worst time his insomnia had ever struck like this, but it was enough. There was nothing for it, so he simply waited. Dwelling.

***

The two men ate in silence. Donavan refused to lift his head, his gaze transfixed on the bowl of soup in front of him. The TV was off, there wasn't any rain outside, and the light overhead - likely half-dead, in need of changing - illuminated only their deafening tension. The old man's eyes pleaded for his companion to look up. Donnie refused.

"Look at me."

He didn't move.

"Look. At. Me."

Donavan lifted his head, his right eye socket blackened from a fight earlier that morning. His lips stayed in their rest, the animosity manifesting itself through his good eye and exuding aura.

"We did everything we could, Donnie. She just wasn't strong enough." The older man's voice rocked with sorrow. "I wanted to say... I'm... Please, don't blame yourself. If you need someone to talk to, I can reach out to-"

Donavan's spoon clattered into his bowl, still half-drowned in soup. He had lost his apatite. "I'm flying out to Busan in a week, I need to pack." He stood up, making for the stairs behind him.

"You're not coming? Tom's family will be there too, not just me-"

"I-" Donavan started, curling his hand into a fist to curb his frustration. "I don't know."

***

Even fighting wasn't putting him to sleep anymore.

Donavan's eyes shot open to the rustling of footsteps, rather than the knock on the door. Initially thinking nothing of it, his second attempt to find sleep was further interrupted by that loud rapturous knocking, and some whispers he couldn't make out. Apparently it was Rivera who had gotten the door because moments later she was hissing the rest awake, declaring none other than the Bek at their door.

Definitely not good.

Connor was first to jump on the train, voting to keep him out. While Donavan's bloodlust was truly magnificent, even he wasn't stupid: it was clearly a trap. If his theory held any water - and it seemed to get more and more valid by the minute - something was clearly up with this Bek character, and if they weren't careful, the Ganbatte Gang was going to meet their elimination much sooner than anticipated.

...Christ, Ganbatte Gang? Donavan needed to work on his marketing.

"Did he have anything on him? Like a gun, knife, whatever? Actually, it doesn't matter. Keep the door closed-" He whispered bac, trying to scramble to his feet as quietly as possible. He hiked on his wrist guards.

"We can bum-rush this cocksucker. We got the element of surprise."

Shotgunpenguin PiePillager obscured_light

 

[obscured_light]

"He didn't have anything on him from a glance but I don't think bum rushing him is the best idea either," Rivera whispered sharply. "There's a lot we don't know about Bek and there might be some foul play. We try to rush him now and we might be playing into his hands."

Rivera paused and thought it over, "...Unless you two are okay with risking your spot in this tournament, I think we should listen to what he has to say but keep him in the hallway. Maybe have phones secretly recording or something."

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

"What, are you crazy?!" Why would they want to rush out of their nice and safe room, straight into someone who by all accounts was one of the top competitors in the competition. So long as they stayed in here, and he stayed out there, that was a good situation as far as Connor was concerned. Still, it never hurt to be prepared just in case, as he slowly began to wind a roll of tape along his right hand. It wasn't the gloves that he was used to fighting with, but he didn't want to give up the ability to use his hands if he needed to. "No way I'm going out there so long as he's at the door. He is still there right?"

After making sure that the tape was wrapped tight, he nodded at Rivera's suggestion to record their conversation. Quickly patting himself down with his left hand, a rush of panic ran through him as he couldn't find his phone anywhere on him. The realization brought forth another memory of last night, where in addition to losing his challenger card his phone had also vanished with it.

"Crap, I lost my phone last night. Please tell me you guys have phones." Debating on what to do next, he crept towards the sleeping Kipsang on the couch. Gently nudging his shoulder, he tried to wake the sleeping and possibly hungover elder.

"Kipsang, get up. We have a situation."

BakaTheIdiot PiePillager obscured_light

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Seems the idea of getting armed and dangerous wasn't a particularly popular one.

Yet, Rivera definitely had a point. Leverage was everything in a competition like this, and if they could get Bek saying something shady on record - assuming he said anything at all - that could be critical. The problem was that Donavan had a rinky-dink Samsung Gravity 3 slide phone, the model of which was practically ancient by this point. It had a microphone, it had an app, but the quality was dubious, to say the least. Still, it was better than nothing.

Carefully, trying not to disturb any of the noisemaker debris littering the ground around him - which consisted almost entirely of snack bags and alcoholic containers - Donavan slid over to the other side of the door's frame, opposite Rivera. His phone powered on and the recorder ready, his thumb hit "OK" in the center pad and the recording began, giving Rivera a simple nod and thumbs up, as not to imprint his own voice.

Here's hoping it wasn't a trap.

Shotgunpenguin obscured_light PiePillager

 

[PiePillager]

Bek's eyes shiftily glanced around the hallway, as he sighed heavily. One got the feeling that he REALLY didn't particularly want to be there. "Look, I shouldn't have to be the one to tell you that there are eyes where you least expect 'em. So don't linger around crime scenes and especially don't chat it up about things that 'don't exist'...like the Magna Mafia. Last thing this event needs is people bringing up the boogeymen of the criminal underworld..."

Bek placed his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away...before he remembered something else he had to say. "Also you might want to stay away from the drunkard. He'll just bring you trouble..." Bek added, referring to the still-sleeping Kipsang who seemed to respond to Connor's attempts to wake him by snoring even louder.

"Oaky....think that was it," Bek muttered to himself, sounding relieved. "Alright, hope you kids got the message. I'll be going now..." he spoke in a louder tone, giving a halfhearted wave before placing his hands back in his pockets and making his way down the hallway as quickly as he could....which wasn't particularly fast.

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera had been unlocking her own smart phone when Bek had started talking. She froze at the mention of the conversation their group had had the night before. Who had told Bek? As far as she remembered, there had been distance between them and him, even more so with the gaggle of people that had surrounded him. So it was clear he wasn't kidding or vaguely threatening them when he said there were eyes everywhere. Though it was ironic he was chastising them in a hotel hallway where voices tended to carry among thin walls.

She was so distracted by his warning of Kipsang that she didn't even notice that she still hadn't hit "Record." In fact, it was the last thing on her mind as she swiftly unlocked the door and opened it just enough so she could slip into the hallway.

"Bek, wait! she called out, taking a few steps towards him, hand reaching out. There was mistrust in her eyes but Rivera needed to know. "Why did you come here then? Why give any sort of warning when our mistakes could work in your favor?"

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

"Come on old man, wake up." Despite his constant shaking, it seemed like whatever sleep Kipsang was in was deep enough that he didn't even feel it. He just started snoring even louder, and Connor reeled back as the stench of his morning breath assaulted his nose. It was hot and heavy with liquor, with a hint of grape from the empty bottles of wine that littered the floor. Giving up on the old man for the time being, Connor turned just in time to see Rivera slip out from between the gap in the door.

"Rivera, hold on!" Letting Kipsang fall back onto the couch, he jogged over to the door and closed it in order to fully undo the lock. She may have been small enough to slip through, but he doubted Donavan or himself could without a struggle. Throwing open the door, he stepped out into the hallway to see her calling out to an older man. Confused, he turned his head to look down the other way of the hotel hallway but saw no-one.

"Did he bolt around the corner past that old guy?" If Bek wanted to deliver a message but didn't want to be seen, why even knock in the first place? He could have just slid a note or something under the door, or even had the message delivered to them by one of the staff.

Cautiously looking around, he called out to Rivera. "Wait, where's Bek? I thought you said he had a message for us?" He paused, before pointing "Hey excuse me, sir? Did you happen to see Bek run around a corner? Bit older than me, probably had a bunch of people crowding him, you know the guy right? One of the favorites to win this whole thing."

Mentioned: BakaTheIdiot PiePillager obscured_light

 

[PiePillager]

Bek turned around a did a doubletake as he spotted the woman who answered the door following him, reaching a hand out towards him. He twitched as if he were about to jump out of his skin and to make matters worse, now that kid was with her too! Couldn't they just dwell on the thread?! Why'd they have to come after him?! Bek swiveled around to face Rivera and fell on his butt, his kufi hat falling to the ground.

"S-stay back!" he stammered, as he reached into his pocket and drew out a razor blade.

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera immediately slowed down and raised her other hand to indicate to Bek that she meant no harm. All her movements became slow, deliberate. She didn't bat an eye either. Someone pulling a knife on her wasn't new.

"Woah, woah. Take it easy, Bek. We ain't fighting. I just wanted answers," Rivera said calmly, voice even. As much as she wanted to explain to Connor that the old man in front of them was in fact Bek, it was a delicate situation and she didn't want to take her eyes off the panicking man. Using his name would hopefully be enough. She understood the kid's confusion though.

What had Bek so jumpy though?

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Donavan, still reclused behind the doorway, phone in hand strained his ears to listen. They spoke quietly, not to disturb, however that listening was quickly disturbed by Connor's rampant attempts to awaken Kipsang - right as Bek was about to say something pertaining to him. He felt tempted to curse Connor's incompetence, but decided to wait until the recording was finished. Then, Bek began to walk away. He thought. He couldn't really see anything.

Just then, Rivera made quick headway after him, Connor following. "Wait, where are you-" He rose to his feet to follow, before looking down at his phone...

"Son of a BITCH!" He hissed in irritation. His phone hadn't been recording this entire time, and seemingly ran out of storage moments ago. The screen, flashing a bright white exclamation mark and annoyed text, confirmed his worries. Now of all times, he wish he listened to Bella. He had no choice but to join them in the halls.

What the hell?

This guy looked nothing like Bek. Sounded nothing like him either. Yet, the way Rivera addressed him, and the way he spoke, something was clearly up. This had to be Bek. What on earth was going on here?

"You're Bek?" Donavan's voice chirped of disbelief, "You got a body double or something, old timer? How are you even close to top of the charts?"

Shotgunpenguin obscured_light PiePillager

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor was honestly lost.

First the old man fell on his ass, which had Connor stepping forward to try and offer him a hand. He may not always make the best choices, but helping out those older than him was something he was taught as a kid. That offer was quickly rescinded as the man pulled out a knife, an actual knife, and was threatening Rivera and him to stay back.

Second, if Rivera was to be believed, that old man on the ground was actually Bek. "This is Bek? He looks..... afraid?" Connor hadn't ever seen the man in person, but the one in front of him was clearly older than his profile suggested. That, combined with his skittish behavior, had him wondering if there was some kind of mistake. Even with the knife, Connor felt confident that he could take the man down. He kept those thought to himself however, remaining silent as Rivera tried to talk the man into lowering the knife.

Finally, Donavan had made his way out of the room after them, and was in just as much disbelief as he was. He couldn't blame him, even if Connor wouldn't have been able to pick Bek out of a crowd if given the chance. The man in front of them seemed like he was more likely to pull you into an alley and try and mug you, rather than beat you down in a fight.

"Yeah, let's all just calm down," Trying to help diffuse the situation, he slowly raised his hands in front of him. "There's no need for anyone to get hurt."

Mentioned: PiePillager BakaTheIdiot obscured_light

 

[PiePillager]

"Calm down, yes...let's just calm..." Bek looked around, exasperated. Suddenly, when he was about to give in with a sigh, a ding-dong rang on the wall beside him as the doors to the elevator sprung open. Bek looked to the side and the fighters would perhaps recognize the group gathered within as Bek's entourage from earlier.

"Daoud! This way!" one of them motioned towards him rapidly. "You were taking to long and-" the man was cut off by Bek....or perhaps Daoud?, diving into the open elevator.

"Shut up!" Bek(?) snapped. "Hurry and get us off this floor!" he reprimanded.

 

[obscured_light]

"What the fu- HEY!"

Rivera bolted after him. Daoud? Bek? Man, the guy was full of surprises. It didn't make sense. All these pieces were being strewn about the ground and the key of it all was just gonna drop some vague warning and head off? That wasn't going to happen. At least not without a fight.

As Rivera used her hand to force the doors to reopen, the brief thought of Bek? pulling another knife on her did cross her mind. Then again...

"What the fuck is going on?" Rivera demanded, body tense but light in case she needed to move fast. They could all have knives on them after all.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

What happened after his little accusations came almost like a blur. Just as Rivera and Connor had managed to at least partially defused their little gathering, Donavan obeyed and lowered his fists - bringing them right back up as he bolted for the now open elevator. Barely even recognizing the exchange of words behind Bek's posse and the man in question, he bolted after them, hands outstretched. Poor Connor was practically vaulted over in Donavan's pursuit of violence. He'd get the kid a drink later. Or apple juice. Or coffee. Just how old was this guy anyway?

Fortunately, Rivera got their first and shimmed the door with her hand. An excellent play, especially considering that Donnie didn't have the slightest formation of a plan. Knives or no knives, he could take him.

Probably.

...Yeah, definitely.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" He laughed. "Bek doesn't exist at all, does he?! Just some cover for a shmuck like you! What's your deal, you little rat?" Donavan cracked his knuckles eagerly, mentally begging Rivera to step aside and let him get to work. "Or do we have to break a few fingers first?"

Shotgunpenguin obscured_light PiePillager

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Before he could react, Rivera bolted ahead and practically thrusted her arms in-between the elevator doors, the safety sensors kicking in and allowing her to push them back open. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but it seemed to be the same as Donavan as he practically threw Connor to the side as he rushed up to the elevator. Both of them looked ready to start swinging at the drop of a dime, a fact that wasn't lost on him as he slowly approached the elevator with his hands still in front of him.

They had just started to calm everyone down, but now things were tenser than before, and it seemed like no one was going to try and put the brakes on it.

"H-hey, hold on." What the hell were these two thinking? There was no way this was going to go right, no matter who this guy was. He may not actually be Bek like Donavan and Rivera were implying, but if he wasn't than they were about to beat up a member of his group, or maybe even the entire group judging from how Donavan was acting. That would get back to the actual Bek, who would probably be pissed and come after them.

He wasn't sure what to say, if anything at this point, to try and diffuse the situation. Instead, he stood slightly behind Rivera with his hands raised, but ready to snap out. Not to throw a punch, but to grab her by the shoulders and shove her out of the way in case the man tried anything. Trained fighter or not, a knife was a knife, and after last night's lesson of surprise attacks he was a lot more cautious.

Mentioned: BakaTheIdiot PiePillager obscured_light