Tink held on to the kid for dear life, but he bucked like a stallion, despite his doe-ish build.<br/><br/>There was a loud crunch of a noise and for a moment it rattled through his skull, his vision went red and pain felt like the only thing he knew. By the time the world came back to the scavenger dog of a gang member, the figure sat behind his spindly iron arms had gone limp as a fish, a sprawl of messed up dark hair and, at least now, torn fabric.<br/><br/>His weasel eyes travelled over the kids shoulder, along his cheekbones and to the fall of his lashes and button nose, weary for anything so much as close to a flicker of movement.<br/><br/>No.<br/><br/>Out.<br/><br/>Out colder than the grave.<br/><br/>Tink sighed heavily and shuffled the kid a touch more upright for his own personal comfort. Suddenly not struggling and missing a hospital sized dose of adrenaline meant the ache of such an unnatural position came crashing back around him. To be honest-- he paused-- there was something rich and metallic flavoured on his tongue...  Tink licked the blood from between the bristle on his upper lip. It was thick enough it was developing a plasticy film.<br/><br/>"He got yer nose," a deep voice mumbled from the other side of the alley.<br/><br/>Tink shot Princess a glare so venomous it made the oversized lump in a suit squirm on the spot.<br/><br/>"With his elbow," Princess explained sheepishly motioning at his own blown up example, "... must'a panicked and umpthed back an--"<br/><br/>"Eh shut up Joey!" The smaller suit donning gentleman hauled the kid upright again, before Princess got the hint and scrambled over to help.<br/><br/>"Fat lot o' good you were, n'all!"<br/><br/><br/>****           *****         ****       ****<br/><br/><br/>"FUCK fuck fucking fuck FUCK!!"<br/><br/>The poor peace lily never saw it coming. One minute it was sat by the window, happy on the carpet floor it had always known (it wasn't an<span style="font-style: italic">expensive</span>rug, but it had always done well by it), photosynthesising like the average working plant of it's standing... the next minute gone. A worn, black-truck of a walking boot planted into the pots side with a mighty clatter and all it's contents-- soil and plant combined were kicked in a six foot radius about the room.<br/><br/>"Little bastard!" Marco paced the room, whites of his eyes on show, lips pulled thin, jaw jutting, "FUCK!"<br/><br/>A noise more animal than man tore itself free from the depths of his lungs and screeched through the air of the apartment. Another item of crockery, a cup of last nights tea followed suit, boarding a one stop flight to the hallway via Marco's foot. He crossed his fingers tensely behind the back of his head, his own dark crop a mess, his skin paled for panic, as he paced the room.<br/><br/>What if he went to the cops!? What if they were already taking statements and sending their boys down?? It's not as if they'd just question Marco... he ... fuck! He'd screwed up too many times! His whole family had a reputation.<br/><br/>Fucking psycho's.<br/>Fucking psycho's.<br/><br/>"Fucking psycho's!" he howled and jammed a fist into the wall. There was a sickening crunch that only partly belonged to the plaster. With a sharp hiss he pressed his burning knuckles between his lips and starred intensely at the smudge of sickly red he'd left on his wall.<br/><br/>His Pa... well, his daddy had done enough spells in The Big House that to count them on fingers AND toes he'd have to start collecting the digits in from other people-- a feat, not so shocking for his reputation. When his beloved wee daughter ended up mugged, he'd called Marco and his brothers together to track down the little upstart.<br/><br/>They attached a car battery to the kid.<br/><br/>And not a jack to each finger either.<br/><br/>Of course the boy lived, but they often did. It was only sometimes they died and even then Pa and the boys would split up and scarper until the heat had found some other mug to pursue.<br/><br/>Yes, Marco had a reputation. The coppers had only need look at the second name and they'd jump this case like dog on a leg.<br/><br/>The slender young man slumped into the white chair at the far end of his studio, head falling into his hands, "I wasn't even cruel to this one," a groan bubbled up miserably from the spaces between his fingers.<br/><br/>If the boys didn't find him... if Ryuu had gotten loose.... he was the last one. The last pet, the last play thing he ever wanted. That was it. He was going clean he was going cold turkey!<br/><br/>"Lucky little bastard! How the hell did he get out!?" He stared down at the black denim on his bony knees.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">'It shouldn't be too hard,'</span>he found himself really thinking... [/i]'I could quit any time I wanted to... get a real boyfriend, show him the games, hope for the best... hell maybe I could start a family... make my Ma proud even, I mean it would be hard work--there'd be bills and day to day issues and--'[/i]<br/><br/>The doorbell went.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">'I'm right, aren't I? It would be fucking hard work! Why change when I'm happy,'</span><br/><br/>Marco hauled himself to his feet and slunk through the space like a cat, cracking open the door and letting it swing itself to as he strode straight back.<br/><br/>Two of the three gentleman at the door watched the slinky son-of-a-gun curl head back to his chair like the devil was descending on the plains of the earth. The other one was unconscious.<br/><br/>"Christ Lens!" Tink scratched his head eyes wandering around the room, "... plush pad you got here!"<br/><br/>Princess, on the other hand, who had taken to carrying the limp Ryuu like a damsel in distress, nodded at the broken plant pot, "Bit of a tip though,"<br/><br/>Tink jumped out of his skin and jabbed the large man with the sharp end of one elbow. Marco scowled, brow knitting and white teeth glistening, barest portion of them on one side on show.<br/><br/>"Where do we uuuhh...""<br/><br/>"In the bed," Marco scowled, "It isn't rocket science, fuck, Tink! There's only the one room!"<br/><br/>Princess looked at the weedy flunky for permission. Only after receiving The Nod did he carry the kid over and set him down like a good boy. Marco was already leafing through his wallet by the time he got back, fingers full of notes. Enough paper to plant a tree.<br/><br/>"...sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen," he counted them in plan sight, "twenty of them," he nodded at the notes,palming them off into his visitors hands, "Don't spend 'em all on sweets,"<br/><br/>"And you?" Princess asked, the question calling for another sharp jab from his comrade.<br/><br/>Marco raised a solitary, dark brow, "Me?" he crossed one thin leg over the other, "I'm waiting for this young gentleman to wake up," his voice turned dangerously level, "I'm going to show him what's what,"<br/><br/>Tink shuddered. Those black eyes were like bloody holes! He'd heard the stories! He didn't care if they were solid gold truth or a fucking myth! Didn't need any more convincing not to stick around!<br/><br/>"Come on son, we're off!" he grabbed Princess's arm, "Night Marco!"