Post by Juggers on Nov 9, 2006 17:03:31 GMT -5
It had, Cain reflected, been a good day.
He had stomped around the market for another hour munching on the probably-a-lizard-on-a-stick, which was so heavily spiced it could have been just about any meat or any age, and soaking up the exotic sights and smells.
More smells than sights.
It was unbelievably, flesh scorchingly hot. The sort of hot that made the air hazy and as thick as treacle. At one point, around one of the cooking stalls it had seemed so hot that he was sure that he could have cut out a chunk of air and saved it for later.
Interestingly, the kid that had lead him to the probably-a-lizard-on-a-stick-merchant had insisted on trailing him all over the place pointing out the many and varied wonders and filling him in on the local gossip. The Juggernaut generally go in for gossip. It tended to be terribly mundane.
'X is having a baby but it might not be hers'
'Y was seen with his arm around Rose last night!'
Quite honestly he didn't give a shit what nosey fuckers had to say or think. What people got up to was their business, anybody who attempted to poke their nose into his was likely to get it broken.
The gossip of this place was much more interesting than the usual though.
'X joined clan Y last night and they are going out to loot an arms depot'
Now that's what Cain called gossip.
Eventually however, the day drew to a close and the realisation struck him that he had nowhere to stay and no bed to sleep in. Not that he really had a bed to sleep in on Genosha, it was more of a comfortable THING.
It didn't look like the sort of place that would have comfortable hotels and room service. In fact it looked much more like that sort of place that would have rats and midnight thievery. As darkness set in and the stars came out Cain rubbed his chin and thought.
"Where the 'ell am I goin' to 'ang out tonight?"
He had slept on streets before, but he was on holiday; the idea of sleeping in the street right now just didn't appeal. Besides, he would probably cause an accident.
"You want place to stay?" The kid piped up cheerfully, "I know good place, good beds, they no rob you either!"
The Juggernaut quirked an eyebrow and the kid gave him another gap-toothed grin. At some point during the afternoon he had put the elephant away having decided that following this huge tourist around was much more fun and, perhaps, ultimately more profitable.
"Come on then," the Juggernaut said with a shrug. Anybody that tried to rob him was either very stupid or very brave in any case.
Ten minutes later and the unlikely pair arrived at a squat, two floored building a short way away from the square that sported a completely indecipherable sign.
"Hotel," the kid said simply.
"If you say so mate," Cain replied.
The shifty looking owner of the establishment was only too pleased to accept a random number of notes from his big, new guest and happily showed him to what the kid translated as 'best room in the house'. It wasn't the worst place Cain had ever slept but it was also a long way from the best. But then he'd never been particularly choosy.
After he had thrown himself down on the loudly protesting bed he noticed that the kid was lingering hopefully in the doorway. Cain rummaged in his bag for a moment before pulling out a pouch of coins. He still had no idea how much most of them were worth but then money wasn't really a problem at the moment. He selected a bunch at random, stuffed them back in the bag and then gently threw the pouch with the rest to the kid who eagerly caught it.
"You can come back tomorrow and show me them buildin's that look like onions," Cain said and closed his eyes, oblivious to the fact that the Taj Mahal was several thousand miles away on an entirely different continent.
The kid didn't much care, for this amount of money he would show the big tourist the moon on a stick. He bounded away gleefully to hide his new found fortune.
Unfortunately for him a battered looking truck was waiting outside the hotel with a group of men wielding an unpleasant array of weaponry. Word about the big, bald white man had indeed spread from the observers on the bus but the reaction had not been one of fear. It had been of anger, outrage and vengeance.
They relieved the kid of his wealth and convinced him to tell them which room his new friend was staying in. Miserably he told them and was then more miserably dragged along by the group 'in case he was lying'. The fact that he tended not to lie to armed men mattered not at all to them.
Cain had fallen asleep quickly after his first real day of holiday and was softly snoring under the blanket when the group arrived quietly in the room. Armed with an assortment of clubs, cudgels and batons they surrounded the recumbent form and then set about battering it into bloody submission.
The beating went on for just over a minute during which the body under the blanket twitched and grunted. The fact that there were no cries of pain mattered not at all. The damage sustained by such an attack would at the very least horrifically cripple a man, if not kill him.
The thumping abated, the only sounds in the room being those of heavy breathing and the sobbing of a child who has just witnessed the probably murder of someone he had come to consider as a new friend.
Then, very slowly, the huge body beneath the blanket sat up, like the legendary mummy of the tomb in its death shroud. The attackers stared transfixed at the apparition as it rose from the bed. Then the blanket fell away revealing the half naked and extremely pissed off form of the Juggernaut beneath.
"You fuckers," he said with deliberate menace, "are so. Fuckin'. Dead."
There was a frantic scramble for the door.
A beggar in the street outside looked up with a faintly bemused expression at the sounds of breakage and unadulterated violence that drifted from the window above and then cocked an eyebrow as the same window exploded, disgorging a man doing his level best to fly.
He failed spectacularly and crashed into the street with the sort of meaty crack that spoke of at least three broken bones. Impressively, despite what must have been incredible pain, the would be flyer hauled himself to his feet and hobbled away as if all the demons in hell were at his heels.
"Hmph," the beggar said, having seen several such sights before.
Then there was a scream and another man attempted to leap from the window. Interestingly, he only made it half way out, his arms windmilling and hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth, white window-sill.
Then something grabbed him from behind with a roar that sounded like, "noyoudontyoufuckincunt."
He screamed once and was yanked back inside.
The sounds of violence continued a while longer.
And then silence descended.
He had stomped around the market for another hour munching on the probably-a-lizard-on-a-stick, which was so heavily spiced it could have been just about any meat or any age, and soaking up the exotic sights and smells.
More smells than sights.
It was unbelievably, flesh scorchingly hot. The sort of hot that made the air hazy and as thick as treacle. At one point, around one of the cooking stalls it had seemed so hot that he was sure that he could have cut out a chunk of air and saved it for later.
Interestingly, the kid that had lead him to the probably-a-lizard-on-a-stick-merchant had insisted on trailing him all over the place pointing out the many and varied wonders and filling him in on the local gossip. The Juggernaut generally go in for gossip. It tended to be terribly mundane.
'X is having a baby but it might not be hers'
'Y was seen with his arm around Rose last night!'
Quite honestly he didn't give a shit what nosey fuckers had to say or think. What people got up to was their business, anybody who attempted to poke their nose into his was likely to get it broken.
The gossip of this place was much more interesting than the usual though.
'X joined clan Y last night and they are going out to loot an arms depot'
Now that's what Cain called gossip.
Eventually however, the day drew to a close and the realisation struck him that he had nowhere to stay and no bed to sleep in. Not that he really had a bed to sleep in on Genosha, it was more of a comfortable THING.
It didn't look like the sort of place that would have comfortable hotels and room service. In fact it looked much more like that sort of place that would have rats and midnight thievery. As darkness set in and the stars came out Cain rubbed his chin and thought.
"Where the 'ell am I goin' to 'ang out tonight?"
He had slept on streets before, but he was on holiday; the idea of sleeping in the street right now just didn't appeal. Besides, he would probably cause an accident.
"You want place to stay?" The kid piped up cheerfully, "I know good place, good beds, they no rob you either!"
The Juggernaut quirked an eyebrow and the kid gave him another gap-toothed grin. At some point during the afternoon he had put the elephant away having decided that following this huge tourist around was much more fun and, perhaps, ultimately more profitable.
"Come on then," the Juggernaut said with a shrug. Anybody that tried to rob him was either very stupid or very brave in any case.
Ten minutes later and the unlikely pair arrived at a squat, two floored building a short way away from the square that sported a completely indecipherable sign.
"Hotel," the kid said simply.
"If you say so mate," Cain replied.
The shifty looking owner of the establishment was only too pleased to accept a random number of notes from his big, new guest and happily showed him to what the kid translated as 'best room in the house'. It wasn't the worst place Cain had ever slept but it was also a long way from the best. But then he'd never been particularly choosy.
After he had thrown himself down on the loudly protesting bed he noticed that the kid was lingering hopefully in the doorway. Cain rummaged in his bag for a moment before pulling out a pouch of coins. He still had no idea how much most of them were worth but then money wasn't really a problem at the moment. He selected a bunch at random, stuffed them back in the bag and then gently threw the pouch with the rest to the kid who eagerly caught it.
"You can come back tomorrow and show me them buildin's that look like onions," Cain said and closed his eyes, oblivious to the fact that the Taj Mahal was several thousand miles away on an entirely different continent.
The kid didn't much care, for this amount of money he would show the big tourist the moon on a stick. He bounded away gleefully to hide his new found fortune.
Unfortunately for him a battered looking truck was waiting outside the hotel with a group of men wielding an unpleasant array of weaponry. Word about the big, bald white man had indeed spread from the observers on the bus but the reaction had not been one of fear. It had been of anger, outrage and vengeance.
They relieved the kid of his wealth and convinced him to tell them which room his new friend was staying in. Miserably he told them and was then more miserably dragged along by the group 'in case he was lying'. The fact that he tended not to lie to armed men mattered not at all to them.
Cain had fallen asleep quickly after his first real day of holiday and was softly snoring under the blanket when the group arrived quietly in the room. Armed with an assortment of clubs, cudgels and batons they surrounded the recumbent form and then set about battering it into bloody submission.
The beating went on for just over a minute during which the body under the blanket twitched and grunted. The fact that there were no cries of pain mattered not at all. The damage sustained by such an attack would at the very least horrifically cripple a man, if not kill him.
The thumping abated, the only sounds in the room being those of heavy breathing and the sobbing of a child who has just witnessed the probably murder of someone he had come to consider as a new friend.
Then, very slowly, the huge body beneath the blanket sat up, like the legendary mummy of the tomb in its death shroud. The attackers stared transfixed at the apparition as it rose from the bed. Then the blanket fell away revealing the half naked and extremely pissed off form of the Juggernaut beneath.
"You fuckers," he said with deliberate menace, "are so. Fuckin'. Dead."
There was a frantic scramble for the door.
A beggar in the street outside looked up with a faintly bemused expression at the sounds of breakage and unadulterated violence that drifted from the window above and then cocked an eyebrow as the same window exploded, disgorging a man doing his level best to fly.
He failed spectacularly and crashed into the street with the sort of meaty crack that spoke of at least three broken bones. Impressively, despite what must have been incredible pain, the would be flyer hauled himself to his feet and hobbled away as if all the demons in hell were at his heels.
"Hmph," the beggar said, having seen several such sights before.
Then there was a scream and another man attempted to leap from the window. Interestingly, he only made it half way out, his arms windmilling and hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth, white window-sill.
Then something grabbed him from behind with a roar that sounded like, "noyoudontyoufuckincunt."
He screamed once and was yanked back inside.
The sounds of violence continued a while longer.
And then silence descended.
