A Mockery of the System

Callie listened with interest as the man explained a bunch of stuff which in the end still didn't make sense. So, there was some corruption... Then there was magic? She'd sort of got a bit lost there. Magic really wasn't a thing, so what was this all about? The people around these parts had been wearing weird outfits but she hadn't expected to actually be correct about her assumption. Well, maybe she was getting smarter then. Though, she was also interested about this man's choices. He'd only recently heard about some corruption, and hadn't even been hired, but he was super interested in actually going and dealing with it. Someone like that surely couldn't be morally bad.

Think of the morally bad and they shall appear, with a large man suddenly swaggering down the alleyway towards them. She glanced towards Amos to see what he would be thinking but as she did so another figure caught her eye behind him. She sighed a little bit, this wasn't the type of combat she'd been looking for. Of course she wasn't going to hand over her money. Heck, she hardly had any to begin with. She did have some fairly sturdy legplates which she could use to her advantage however. She already understood that well though, she fought using them after all.

"Just leave it"

She spoke back fairly casually, not actually wanting them to. Whilst she did hope they didn't have weapons on them, she was mostly concerned about a fight. She wanted to beat these guys up, they were just street goons after all, nothing she couldn't handle. But... She got the feeling they were a little bigger than your usual lot. This island put a whole lot of protein in their cereal by the looks of these guys. Loosening up her ankles and legs in general by rotating them around a little, she waited for someone to make the first move.

Mock looked around nervously, and could see no easy way out of the situation. At least no one else had come with the two that he could see, but still the two themselves were quite large and menacing. Mock sighed and reached into his bga; pulling out a stack of beli. He slowly bent down and placed it on the ground by the large, booze soaked, mans feet. Mock still kept his right hand near his gun, and looked up into the large mans eyes. "It is of my belief that everyone should share everything equally, money included, but it appears that you do not share these values with me. I don't want to cause you any trouble however, and so I will willingly give you all of the money that I have. I assure that this is all of it. I'm not a rich man you see." The man and woman laughed loudly at Mock as he spoke about sharing and equality. The man bent down and picked up the money to count it. He thumbed through it and looked at Mock angrily.

What kinda fool do ya take me for boy. This ain't nearly enough!" Anger and hatred seemed to flow through his words like poison, and his foot slammed into Mock's stomach; launching him backwards right into the giant woman. "Shishishi, time to die boy." She slammed her fist into Mock's head as he came flying at her, and sent him crashing into the ground. Mock bounced on the ground and nearly blacked out from the impact. These two were incredibly strong, and Mock knew that this fight could spell out death for him. He tried to roll inbetween her feet, but was stopped by a kick to the ribs. He felt his ribs creak and almost give out from the impact.

Mock looked up at her with a dead, souless, look in his eyes. "cough A pity." Mock jolted up onto his feet, and pulled out his gun. He fired a round aimed at her skull, but she managed to side step quick enough that the bullet merely grazed her cheek. A similar rage to the mans filled her eyes, and she seemed to loose it as she ran at him.

Callie gritted her teeth as her travelling companion went down almost instantly, rolling around and only just staying alive. She wasn't the fastest but she knew right now they were beyond words. With a grin on her face, she joined the fight. With a loud shout she lunged towards the man, feigning a punch with the hopes her shout would have gotten his attention. From there, she lifting her left leg up and struck at his stomach. Despite the armour she wore, she could feel how solid his torso was as the man merely grunted and threw an attack of his own.

The man's fist connected with Callie's face, sending her sprawling against the wall of the alleyway, her back striking the bricks and so her injured form slowly sliding down until she slumped on the ground. That hurt. She wasn't certain but she felt like one of her ribs had just cracked... Actually scratch that, it felt like all of them had just broken. Was this really just a normal thug? If so... This island was excellent... This was just what she'd been looking for!

Despite her injuries, Callie was back up on her feet surprisingly quickly, bouncing from foot to foot and her fists raised in front of her. A typical stance even for someone that practised Savate more than boxing or something. She tried to bait out an attack, standing where she was and waiting for an opportunity. Very soon she saw what she was looking for as the man stepped forwards, which led to her rushing towards him and jumping up, slamming her heel down into his knee. Instead of causing dislocation or breaking like expected, instead she only really lightly tapped his thigh as the man managed to swat her aside with another punch, this one to her shoulder and causing her to somersault as she flew once again into the wall.

Mock spun and ducked behind a crate as the enraged woman charged at him like a bull. She charged right past him and nearly slammed into her partner. Mock watched the mans large meaty fist slam into Callie's shoulder and cause her fly into the wall. Mock clenched his teeth as he watched their two opponents. Already Callie and Mock were much more injured than these thugs, and that put them at a major disadvantage. Mock had three more bullets in his revolver before he would have to reload again, so he had to make these next few shots count. Mock had been carefully analyzing the thugs since the beggining, and was now proccessing all of the information he had gathering at lightning speeds.

'While both of the thugs are incredibly large and well built, the female's main strength seems to be her explosive power in her lower body. Being hit by one of her charges would sure spell death for me, and possibly Callie. The large man, even in his intoxicated state, seems to have a good reaction time and incredibly powerful arms.' Mock took a deep breath and focused on the two so much that time seemed to almost slow around him. His gloved hand tightened around the pistol he had raised to his face, and he quickly took sight on his targets. He knew that as they were right now, any pin point shots to vitals would be missed, so he had to settle for shots that would first weaken them in their strong points. 'I've got three shots, better make them count.'

The female thug began to whip around to charge back at Mock, and this was the best oppertunity he had for this shot. Mock's flintlock revolver shot off with a bang, and an iron ball shot out at her thighs. The top of the left thigh was grazed by the bullet, but it continued forward on it's path and penetrated straight through her right thigh. Mock pulled back the hammer once more, and shot his last two rounds in quick succesion. The first bullet dug right into the mans large right shoulder, while the other bullet tore through his left tricep. Mock sighed and leaned over towards Callie and whispered to her, "If we can win this, don't kill them if you don't have to. I need to think about this." Tith that Mock climbed up on top of the stack of crates so it would be harder for them to reach him and began to reload his flintlock revolver. The thugs seemed to be relatively unhurt by the shots, but extremelly annoyed. Mock knew that they had to have been weakened by the shots, or they just weren't human.

Callie watched as her partner in crime fighting took aim and fired three bullets, one striking the woman that had barely missed him, the other two striking the man. The two hardly seemed bothered by the attacks despite being literal bullets, which had her a little bit cautious about these two. They were taking hits like they were nothing, and throwing punches which hurt like hell with relative ease. She needed to focus here.

Climbing up from her sprawled out upside-down state on the ground, she took on the fighting stance once again. She caught the gaze of the man whilst the woman rambled off after Amos. This man had taken two light wounds, but she could theoretically begin to exploit that. She broke out into a sprint, clearing the distance before he could. His punches might suffer just enough for her to get a few hits now, and whilst she wasn't an expert at taking hits herself she was fairly confident, and she was certainly enjoying this.

Chassé frontal. A simple jab with the sole of her foot when she grew near. She aimed for the same spot she had before, but instead of going for a break, she simply aimed to begin to wear down the previous area. Her attack struck before the man had a chance to throw a punch, causing him to just briefly stop in his tracks as she forced his leg down. Pushing off of this she followed up by throwing her leg towards him from the side, striking at the previous wound to his right arm. There was only a little blood there, but she would begin to inflict more damage hopefully.

The thug swung in a similar way to how he had before, stumbling a little thanks to the alcohol alongside his injuries, his fist catching Callie's forearm due to carelessness on her part, but not throwing her aside again. It stung and she found herself grunting a little at the pain, but she threw her posture to one side and used her spare arm to lash out with a punch of her own once again into his injury. This time she got him to shout in pain, although then was clotheslined to the ground, sliding a few feet on her back thanks to the drunkard swinging his arm out wildly.

Mock sat atop the crate and began to quickly reload his flintlock revolver. He loaded another four bullets into the gun, and made sure that none of the mechanisms were on the verge of breaking. The gun had seen a lot, and so he new he had to treat it carefully, but it seemed to be holding up for the most part. The woman ran at the crates and was moving at a noticibly slower pace than before due to the bullet wounds in her thighs. It seemed that even the damage to her thighs was still nothing more than an annoyance to her however as she slammed into the crates with enormous power; shattering them into a thousand pieces like they were made of cards.

As Mock began to fall to the ground the woman clasped her fists together, and slammed them into his ribs. Mock's back slammed into the wall of the building next to him, and he bounced off of it as he fell to the ground. The searing pain in his side told Mock that the impact had shattered ribs five through eight. It seemed that the bone shards had not pierced his lungs however, and Mock was truly grateful for that. Mock rolled to his feet, visually favoring his left side, and took quick ragged breaths.

Mock could see anger in her bloodshot eyes, but but could also see fatigue begin to over come her. She may have not taken a lot of damage, but she had used a lot of energy very quickly. Neither she nor her friend seemed to be in the greatest of shape, even as strong as they were, and Mock new that if he could last a bit longer his chance for victory would come. The only doubt in his mind was if he could make it. Mock's body was beaten bloody and ragged, but he raised his gun and fired as she made a large fullbody sunday punch towards him. The bullet bit into her neck, and tore off a a chunk of flesh. She roared out in pain as her fist slammed into Mocks skull. The impact was incredible, and Mock was nearly knocked out from it. His intense will to survive was the only thing that kept him concious after the blow.

Once again the young fighter found herself laid on her back. Her ribs were bruised perhaps broken, her head was spinning after a meaty forearm had connected with her face, and she was bleeding a fair amount from her nose. Not only that, but her clothes were now torn thanks to the several pieces of contact with ground and wall alike. Her breathing was heavy and she could feel herself beginning to run low on energy, although this wasn't the end yet. This was a good fight, better than she'd had back home. That excited her to no end.

"Alright, back to work"

She hopped back to her feet, instantly regretting the swift movement and groaning in pain as she did so. Her head spun even more when she did so and she began struggling to remain upright. Through blurry eyes she could see a heavy man barrelling towards her, clutching at his arm and limping a fair amount from her strikes at his legs. It took her a moment too long to realise that she'd have to move, and her split second decisions weren't so on point today as she found herself launching directly at him instead of dodging. Jumping directly off the ground she slammed both feet together down towards his leg again, just as the mass of his large form slammed into her.

Callie was knocked to the ground again, this time feeling something break somewhere although the dizziness keeping her unable to locate it even slightly. The air left her lungs and she was left gasping for some as she lay on the ground, and whilst she felt her pain she realised... It wasn't too extreme. She squinted to try and focus on the man that was now yelling in pain, now realising the break she'd heard was actually in his leg as he stood there drunkenly yelling about it. She grinned, attempting to push herself into a sitting position, realising one of her arms was... Behind her? She looked around to notice the limb facing an awkward direction. Oh, no, that was definitely broken too.

Out of the corner of his eye Mock could see that Callie was also quite hurt. Blood dripped down his face from the gash in cracked skull, and began to dye his vision red. Mock stumbled forward as he tried to stay standing, and just barely avoided a wide swining punch purely by coincidence. Mock didn't let this opportunity slip past him however, and he placed his gun by her rib cage, and got a shot off directly into her lung. She coughed up blood and seemed to choke on it as she roared in anger. Mock took a few steps back, and carefully aimed his flintlock at the angered woman. Blood was pouring out of her side, and her rage caused blood to squirt out of the hole in her neck. "You might want to calm down a bit. Your just going to loose blood quicker if you don't." Mock took a few ragged breaths and lined up his shot perfectly.

She turned and picked a large pipe leaning against the wall, and threw it at Mock with incredible force. Mock fired his gun at the same time, with his bullet aimed at her heart. The impact of the pipe threw his aim off however, and the bullet pierced through her shoulder. "Well, maybe that's a good thing. I don't want to kill you at the moment." The woman breathed out a huge sigh and and charged Mock one last time. She was much slower now than she was before, but with the extreme beating Mock had taken she was able to grab him by the throat and lift him into the air. Mock could feel the life being squeezed out of him as she gripped his neck tighter and tighter. Mock lifted his revolver up to shoot her, but he couldn't get the barrel of the gun to line up correctly in this position.

Mock said a silent prayer to himself as his vision started to go blurry from lack of oxygen. He could see a crooked smile beneath her blood shot eyes, but blood from his head wound began to drip into his other eye as well. Now temporarily blind Mock put every last ounce of strength that he had into his right arm, and brought it down on her head. The butt of the pistol slammed down onto her temple, and the sound resounded like a crack of thunder. His hand was warm with her blood from the impact, and her grip released as she fell to the ground unconcious. Mock was barely able to land on his feet. He wiped the blood out of his eyes and looked down at the powerful, giant, thug. She was bleeding quite heavily, and he knew that without proper treatment she would bleed out.

Mock wiped away some more blood that was oozing out of his skull and looked over to where Callie was to see if she needed any help.

Tech Used:

"This is the third time, come onnn"

She groaned, trying her best to climb back to her feet, this time failing to do so. The energy in her body was beginning to drain and her adrenaline was pretty much out at this point. One of her arms was all wobbly and she was unable to use it now, with numerous bruises and fairly deep wounds across her body preventing her from moving without agony as it was. Her head was spinning and no matter how deep she breathed it only seemed to get worse.

Meanwhile the drunken thug which had started things was beginning to shuffle his way over to her, or more... Shambled? She couldn't properly see him, but with a busted leg he was struggling to move as quick as he had before. Still, it was quick enough that he managed to get to her before she got to her feet. Thankfully due to his injured leg he was struggling to actually do anything, unable to stand on her as he'd fall over, but unable to crouch down as his leg wouldn't properly bend. In the end he did manage to grab her by her top and lifted her up, slamming her mostly unconscious form into the wall hard enough to this time actually crack her ribs.

"That... Was my favourite rib"

She grinned as blood began to trickle down her face. She didn't really have a plan at this point, and her instinct was pretty much gone at this point. The human body tended not to have a plan for when you were this far gone apart from perhaps curling up in a ball and crying. She didn't feel like doing that right now though, and actually she didn't feel like doing much at all. Or... Maybe she could put her energy into one last act...

The thug pulled her from the wall by her top once again, proceeding to slam her into the wall once again. This time she did actually shout in pain, coughing up blood and things going even fuzzier. He was breathing heavily and a lot of his weight was being pushed into her to help balance him, which was pretty much perfect for what she had planned. Once again he drew her back, and this time she pushed back, her feet slamming into his chest and causing him to fall back onto his bad leg, a loud scream of pain erupting from his ugly mouth as he topped backwards, letting go of Callie completely.

Falling to the floor, the fighter wasted no time in stepping forwards and as the man fell down she rushed him. Her legs weren't in place to deliver a kick, and her arms weren't strong enough to deal any damage, especially with one being broken. She shrugged her shoulders as she concluded what she had to do, and then slammed her forehead into his. Her brain felt like it rocketed around her skull as the man finally hit the floor unconscious from her last strike. She turned towards her gun wielding fighting partner and grinned, not actually able to see him thanks to everything having gone white a moment ago. She then proceeded to finally collapse, unconscious.

Mock watched Callie deliver a powerful headbut to the thug with a sickening crunch. The two passed out on to the ground unconcious. Mock had fired 6 shots, so he knew that they only had a few minutes maximum before some sort of guard or police force would arrive. 'I don't have much time left, I have to decide now whether these thugs will live or die.' Mock knelt down and rummaged through the womans pockets. He found a few beli and a small sack. He opened the sack to see what was inside and shook his head. He sniffed the bag and could smell the strong scent of medicine, and he stuck his hand inside to pull out a clear, glass like, powder with a small twinge of blue coloring. He dumped the powder onto the ground and watched the powder scatter in the breeze like dust. Mock sighed and began to rummage around in his bag for his roll of toy making tools. He unrolled the leather cylinder and looked at all of the tools tucked away inside of it.

'On the one hand, it seems like they were turned into this by drugs that they most likely recieved from this Magister Shorish. On the other hand however, it was highly unlikely that they were forced to purchase these drugs. They may have been under hard times, and Magister Shorish may have taken advantage of them, but that still does not change the fact that they did the drugs. Even if they lived on, and were rehabilitated the chances that they would be productive citizens are low, and the risk that they'll seek vengance is too high.' Mock looked around to ensure that he was still the only concious person in the alley, and it seemed like he was. He pulled a woodcarving knife out of his tool set and looked it over. The blade was small, but sharp. It wouldn't be useful in combat, but it was enough to accomplish the task he had for it.

Mock gripped the handle tightly and brought the blade in front of his face. He closed his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry for what I'm about to do." Mock deftly and quietly slit her throat and walked over to the large man. He looked through his pockets as well and found the same leather bag. He poured the powder into the flask on his belt, and poured the alcohol out into a drain that was nearby. He repeated what he had whispered before, and slit this mans throat in the same fashion. He wipped the blood off on the mans pants and wobbled back to the woman to put away his tools. Mock's vision was beginning to blur now, and he knew he had to be quick. He walked over to Callie and put her arm around his shoulder. He lifted her to her feet and began to walk away from the bodies. No one had seem to come yet and for that Mock was truly greatful, but he was gravely injured and Callie seemed to get heavier and heavier with each step. Mock didn't know where any hospitals might be, but he had a rough idea of where he was going.

Mock reached the one place he knew in the city, and knocked loudly on the back door. Morgana, the woman from the toy shop, opened the back door with a look of confusion that quickly shifted to shock when she saw the bloody, injured pair. "I-I'm sorry to bother you Morgana, but my friend in I ran into a few thugs. I'd be willing to pay you if you want, but we reall need some h-" That was the last thing Mock managed to say before he passed out and fell to the ground with Callie unconcious.

"Ow"

Callie groaned from her mostly unconscious state. She didn't remember much of how she'd got here, but she was currently in a crumpled heap, half on top of the guy that she'd been fighting alongside earlier. She groaned, the floor wasn't at all comfortable and her whole body stung. In fact... Yeah, she was passing out again.

A little while later and Callie awoke once again. This time she wasn't on the hard floor, but instead on a blanket of sorts, which happened to be on the floor. Grumbling about her head hurting, she instinctively tried to sit up, a wave of nausea hitting her and her body screaming at her to stop. Yeah, she didn't want to deal with that pain right now, so she laid back down and hoped for some sort of answer to her questions.

"That thug really messed me up"

She complained as her memories began to return. He'd ended up breaking her arm, and possibly some of her ribs. And... She'd headbutted him and ended up losing consciousness after that. Probably an unwise move but she'd survived in the end so all was ok. How had she gotten away from there? Oh yeah, that Amos guy had been with her and she presumed had carried her... So why did she remember being on the floor?

Her memories were a little patchy but she managed to slowly piece together what had happened, feeling both a level of dread and excitement. Her body would take time to heal, but she'd finally found some people that were interesting and tough, and they'd only seemed like some normal thugs. Imagine what the tough people on the island were like. This was... The best island she'd ever been to, although there weren't exactly many competitors for that title currently.

Mock's groggily opened as he began to return to conciousness. When he opened his eyes and didn't immediatly recognize he instinctually reached for his revolver only to find that it wasn't there. In fact most of his belongings weren't on his person. When he sat up and looked under the white sheets he was laying in he saw that the only thing he was wearing at the moment were his blue boxers with a little yellow fish pattern on it. His injuries had been bandaged up as well. They weren't bandaged up very well, but it was better than nothing for sure. Mock put his hands on his forehead as his vision began to swim from lack of blood.

Mock took a few deep breaths in an attempt to stop himself from passing out again. His entire was screaming in pain everytime he moved, and especially when he moved his left arm. His shattered ribs made it hard for him to move his arm let alone his body. Mock turned his head and saw his bag laying in the corner of... wherever he was. He struggled to stand to his feet and walked over to the corner. As he walked his body was screaming at him to stop. Mock was moving at barely more than a shuffle, and as he slowly made his way to the corner he looked around the room a bit more. He didn't see Callie in there with him, but he did see what appeared to be a workstation that was covered with various fabrics and cottons, as well as woodcarving tools and saw dust. He could see the framework of what appeared to be a wooden doll in the process of being made.

Mock went to pick up the doll to further analyze it, but shook his head and braced his hands on the desk to help himself move towards his things. There were a few bookshelves in the room as well, along with multiple large bins with materials in them. Mock made his way over to his bag and opened it up to see that most of his things were in there. His first aid kit was missing from inside however, and his gun was laying behind the leather bag. Mock couldn't see his clothes anywhere so he shrugged and picked up his gun. He looked it over and it appeared to be in working condition, but it did need some fine tuning. "I was unaware that you had that on you when you came into my shop." Mock's head whiped around, which he instanly regretted doing, to see Morgana standing in one of the doorways connected to this room. She was wearing a black shirt with beige work pants and her long brown hair was down and a bit messy.

Mock turned and leaned against the wall to help himself stand up. She had a bit of a stern expression on her face, especially when compared to when he was in the shop last, but Mock could see a bit of fear and worry that she was trying to hide as well. "I like to be able to defend myself in the event that I have to." Mock gently bent down and dropped his gun into his bag. He could still see the concern in her eyes as he did so. "There's no need to fear me, I pr-"

Morgana cut off Mock in the middle of talking by speaking herself. "I'm not scared of you, a-and put these on before saying anything else. If you're wondering about your friends she's in another room. I had to wash the blood out of your clothes and I didn't want her in here with a mostly naked man with a gun." Morgana threw a plain white t-shirt with some black shorts at Mock. Mock catched them a bit confused, and then remembered that he was only wearing his boxers at the moment. He started to put the shirt back on, and could see a bit of pink on her cheeks. Whether it was from anger or something else Mock was unsure. "Ah, uh, sorry about that I guess."

"I swear one of these days my arms are just going to stop working..."

Callie grumbled to herself as she continued to stare up at the ceiling. Her body ached, but her arm stung the most, probably out of pride. She'd broken her arm once again, the last time she'd pretty much obliterated both with an explosive. This one wasn't even her own doing, someone had actually managed to nearly beat her in a fight. She'd lost plenty of fights before, but something about this was different. She was beyond excited, but it still stung to find out quite so brutally how weak she was in the grand scheme of things.

After a minute or so of careful breathing and calculated shuffling, Callie became confident enough to sit up. This time using her working arm and putting as little pressure on her damaged torso. She was pretty sure something in there was broken for sure too. Pushing herself up off the floor she noticed as the sheets fell off of her, revealing her injured but oddly clothed form. She had a baggy white gown of sorts on, which covered the important parts at least, although upon lifting it up to check she realised that was probably a bad idea. Her injuries even when bandaged didn't look wonderful.

"At least I'm not bleeding"

As if on cue a red spot began to form and expand on the clothing. Wherever they were or whoever had helped them she would need to apologise for the blood stains. Red on white? Awful to clean out, although this island probably had technology even for that. Slowly the young fighter looked around the room to get her bearings. It appeared to be some sort of bedroom without an actual bed. A wardrobe sat in the corner, alongside a chest of drawers and various shelves, a desk and a chair. The shelves were particularly distracting thanks to a handful of dolls which stared down at her battered form, judging her almost... Finally she noticed a familiar hunk of metal rested up against the table leg, alongside a few of her scraps and contraptions that had been in her pockets at the time, and finally her tools.

Deciding it was about time to figure out where she was, Callie shuffled her injured form over towards the chair, which she then used to pick herself up off the floor and to get to her feet. Her legs stung, one more than the other, but she could remain on them at least for a little while. Shuffling awkwardly, she made her way towards the door. As she reached it she put practically her full weight against it to keep herself from falling, only for it to swing open and leaving her with nothing but air to stop her from falling, which she proceeded to do rather loudly.

"Oww"

Mock was putting the shirt on when he heard a loud crashing sound followed by a meek "Oww" presumably from Callie. He paused for a moment and then finished putting his shirt on. Morgana turned and ran out of the room after the crashing sound. He slipped the shorts on slowly as bending down caused the muscles in his side to pull painfully on his broken ribs. He grunted gingerly rubbed his side after pulling the shorts up. Mock hobbled over to the doorway that Morgana was standing in and leaned his back against it. He looked into the room adjacent to it, and it appeared to be the main room of the shop. Mock noticed that the store was currently closed, and the doors were locked. Mock observed the door for a moment before slowly turning his head to see Callie face first on the floor. Morgana was try to help her to her feet with a worried inflection in her voice as she asked Callie if she was all right.

Mock leaned his head against the door frame and closed his eyes for a few moments. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. He looked at Callie and Morgana and asked, "How long were we out, if you don't mind me asking Morgana." Morgana shot Mock a quick glance before looking back at Callie. "It's been a little over a day since you came here all bloody and injured. You stirred a few times in your sleep, but over all your were very still and quiet. It was pretty unnerving actually. I thought you had died a few times." Morgana walked over to the register and fiddeled with a pen on the counter nervously. Mock stared at her to try and assess the situation. She seemed a bit distraut, deffinently more jumpy and nervous than the last time they met. 'I guess seeing a random customer come up to you bloody and injured with an equally bloody and injured stranger, and asking you for help would put someone on edge.'

"I-I was surprised to hear gunshots yesterday. We normally don't hear any in Tall Tale country. Magic and swords are the main forms of defense used here." Morgana turned and meet Mock's intense gaze before turning back around. "You said you carry that gun in the event that you need to defend yourself. The rumor around the area is that two thugs were beat up and shot, and then they had their throats slit. Tell me, is this true, and if so why go so far as to slit their throats Mock?" Mock's expression remained blank and still like a stone. He leaned against the wall in silence; not responding to her question.

"I'm fine I'm fine, just very... Achy"

She grumbled in response, choosing her words as best she could to sound not too harsh, else she would have probably cursed about the pain. It appeared this woman before them was who had helped them out, and as she clambered back to her feet she noticed Amos in another room, asking about how long they'd been out. She winced at the response. It didn't feel that long, although she suppose she had decided to give herself a bit of head damage with that last attack, although it had in the end proven quite efficient.

After a few moments 'Morgana' explained something else, about how thugs had been found beaten up and... With their throats slit? That last part was a little bit peculiar to her. Had someone else come along and done so? It was possible, but it seemed like an odd thing to happen. Fighting to her had never been about killing her opponent, simply about winning or losing, and occasionally like then, in self defence. She went to speak up before noticing something, she didn't call him by his name. He referred to him as... Mock? Her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment, wondering quite what that meant, but eventually simply opted to continue what she had intended to do:

"We were attacked by those thugs for our money. We ended up getting into a bit of a fight, and only just barely made it out as you can see. I don't remember it clearly, but there wasn't any throat slitting during the fight, I don't even carry weapons"

She opted to at least defend herself. Her new friend was a bit of a mystery, so she couldn't speak for him but she did have a few doubts... She was fairly open to reasoning most the time though, so she'd see what Amos/Mock had to say.

A heavy silence sat in the room as the all stood there not speaking. Mock rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger. "I had wanted to talk to Ms. Spy some where in private as we were attracting some attention." Mock nodded his head over towards Callie as he spoke. "We went into the alley and then continued further into them. I like my privacy you see, and to have as little attention on me as possible. Unfortunantly as we were talking this big brute of a man came stumbling into the alley reeking of alcohol. He also appeared to be on some sort of drugs. Drugs alone are bad enough, but the combination of alcohol and drugs are even worse. I turned to run, but then an equally large woman walked out of the other side of the alley trapping us in. The made me hand over all of my money, but it wasn't enough for whatever they needed and they got very angry."

Mock stopped speaking for a moment as talking about the events just seemed to make all of his injuries start to hurt more. His cracked skull in particular started to throb painfully. Mock's forehead and face began to sweat, but he made sure that his expression remained unchanged. "The man kicked me hard in the ribs launching me back at the woman, and a short but brutal fight insued. At the end I was barely concious, my ribs shattered and skull cracked open like this Humpty Dumpty you told me about. I don't take the weight of a life lightly, believe me."

Mock's eyebrows scrunched up and his eyes darkened as his face hardened. He took a deep sigh before speaking more. "I believe that the life of every citizen is valuable and precious, but at the same time criminals must be punished. I have no idea what the punshiment system here is and what kind of connections these two had. I also suspect that at least part of the government is quite corrupt here, and that the drugs they had been hooked on they received from one government official in particular. If the circumstances had been different I would have handled the situation in an entirely different fashion, but I knew the six shots I had fired would attract the guards, and that these people had chosen to use these drugs. Even if they recieved them from some one else they still chose to use them at the end of the day, and criminals will always hold back the progress, unity, and happiness of a community. I had no clue if they would be arrested, and if they were how long they would be arrested for. They could have easily gotten out in a day or so and then come after us, but with more friends this time. We barely got away with our lives this time while they were drunk and drugged up, what would have happened when they were sober and in a larger group?"

Callie listened curiously as the man with the unknown name began to speak, explaining what had happened. He firstly listed off how things had begun, and whilst she was still a little hazy on that it did add up with what memories remained. He then continued to explain that the fight had lead to both of them receiving several severe injuries, which anyone could have added up nice and easy considering the state of the duo. Both were bandages, bloody and broken, in need of more medical attention than they'd probably be able to receive any time soon.

When the man, either Mock or Amos, she didn't know his real name still after all, began to explain the rest of it she found herself concentrating more. Whilst she was usually against the killing of others, he was making sure that they were safe and could escape, and additionally the community would benefit from it. She supposed that was true, and whilst a life was a fragile and important thing, they'd put theirs on the line when starting that fight. If he hadn't have killed them, they would have no doubt returned to get revenge, and that wouldn't have ended so well she imagined. She was always up for having a rival, but these guys weren't your normal rivals, they were thugs and murderers, not fighters and honourable. Treat your enemy how they treat you she supposed. That wasn't the best way of thinking, but it was how you survived. She'd seen both sides of the world when growing up due to being both a fighter, and a nuisance.

"Sometime it is survival of the fittest. You made sure in the end we wouldn't be killed, simply for trying to stay alive"

She thought out loud. She was mixed on the situation as on one hand if not for his actions she would probably be dead, but on the other hand he had killed for her... Normally she didn't like to get too serious about things, but this wasn't exactly a light topic, and he presumably knew that. But in the end he had valued their lives as more important than the thugs, and whilst it was unpleasant to have a view on that, from what she'd seen of their actions it was a fair enough presumption. She leant against the wall to try and steady her still wobbly body.

"Thank you for saving me. I don't know how I feel exactly about them being dead, but in the end you did what you thought was right and we aren't exactly in a place where we can take even random thugs lightly. If we didn't beat them, we would be dead undoubtedly"

Mock stayed still as he listened to Callie speak. He appreciated the sentimentbut chose to stay silent and waited for Morgana to speak up. The silence in the room created a heavy tension. It seemed that even outside there was little to no noise, as to the reason why there was no noise in the city outside Mock had no idea. While the silence lasted for merely a few moments, it felt like an eternity to Mock. Not because of the silence per say, he actually quite enjoyed silence, but because he could tell that Morgana was thinking about him quite heavily which made him uncomfortable.

Morgana finally turned to look at Mock. The seeming look of nervousness she had before had subsided slightly. She sighed deeply before speaking with a hard voice. "Look you two can stay here as long as you need to, but, I don't want either of you getting into any more trouble while you're staying here. You're little 'run in' has already brought a lot of heat to the area, and I don't want any trouble with the guards or the Marines. I also don't want you to get more hurt, either of you." Morgana rubbed her temples and sat down in a stool in front of the cash register. "That's a very kind and generous offer Morgana. I will be in your debt.

Morgana waved her hand at him and picked up a cloth doll that she seemed to have been working on at the cash register. It looked to be of a small boy with silver hair, goat horns, and a green shirt. She started to sow a small red pez onto it and glanced back up at the two. [blue=]"You should probably head back to bed to get some rest. You're still very injured and I can't afford to take you two to the hospital. I don't make very much money, and you two would probably be arrested if I did."[/color]

Mock turned around to go back to the workshop, but then looked back at Morgana. "Thank you for letting us stay here, and don't worry about the hospital. This isn't the first life threatining injury I've survived with going to the hospital. We can work out the money de-" Morgana abrutly interupted Mock saying, "I don't want your money, now go to sleep." Mock paused, nodded, and walked back over to the futon on the floor. He carefully climbed back into bed, and fell into a deep sleep

The young inventor stood around awkwardly as a certain silence fell over the group. It seemed like 'Mock' wasn't sure exactly what to say, Callie had said her part and Morgana was... It was hard to read her, although it didn't help that she was quite focused on the pain flowing through her body currently. She needed another long rest, although a part of her wanted nothing more than to rush outside and have another fight like the one they'd experienced... Yesterday? She knew it'd end poorly though in her current state.

Eventually their host spoke up, saying they could remain there as long as they wished, and as long as they didn't get into any more fights they could stay as long as they wanted. A smile spread across Callie's face in thanks, although before she could say anything 'Mock' replied with his thanks. Morgana then continued to encourage them to sleep, which honestly was a pretty good idea. She was tired and her injuries were rough. Whilst she wasn't a doctor, it seemed fairly logical for her to simply just sleep off the worst of her issues, and with any luck by the time she'd awoken she'd be in fighting shape again. That had happened last time, although she had been at a hospital then and she was pretty sure she'd been in a coma too.

"Thank you for your help. We'll do our best to stay out of trouble whilst we're staying here"

Callie couldn't promise anything, she had a certain ability for attracting trouble after all. The amount of thugs she'd run into back home... How things were different round here. She smiled and began to stumble back to her room. As she looked about she couldn't help but notice the intricacies on the dolls on the shelves. This woman was an artist in doll form, really. Each doll seemed to breathe life, as if they really existed. It was actually a little unnerving, especially that one with such a wide unnatural smile... She shrugged and slowly laid down on her makeshift bed, slowly drifting off.

Mock's sleep was restless and he woke up multiple times briefly from the pain all over his body. His body broke out into a cold sweat as he slept as well, and at one point he woke up for a moment because he felt someone wiping the sweat off of him. Mock's sleep was haunted with past memories of Mock, the organization, and of his time there. Faces of his former comrades working together with him wiped out by gun shots, cannon fire, swords, and flames. He also saw a fuzzy image of a small girl that gave him a warm feeling through his body, followed by her being ripped out of site as he was swallowed by snow. Mock jolted upright from his sleep and heard a startled yelp beside him. Morgana was in the process of changing the bloody bandages wrapped around Mock's head. Mock could tell that some time had passed because Morgana was in some red plaid pajamas. Mock was breathing heavily as he fought for air, and he looked down at his sheets averting his gaze from Morgana. "Sorry.", he grumbled softly. Mock's eyes were having a hard time staying up, and within a few short moments he was sleeping once more; sitting quietly in place.

Mock's sleep after that was quiet and dreamless. Mock woke up once again, and could hear Morgana talking to someone; presumably a customer. Mock slowly stood up, once again in only his boxers. 'Hmm it must have been a day or two at least then.' Mock walked over to the workshop table and sat down. His bag was laying on the corner of the table this time, and when he checked inside his gun was tucked neatly inside a side compartment. Mock pulled out his roll of toy making tools and inspected them. They were still all clean and in perfect condition, aside from the one he used to kill the two thugs. It was clean for the most part, but a little bit of blood stained the handle. Mock clicked his tounge in annoyance and began to attempt to rub away the stain. After a few minute he gave up, and looked around at what was on the table. At the moment it seemed to be clean aside from a few chunks of nice quality wood. 'She must have finished working on whatever she was working on.'

Mock picked up one of the pieces of wood. It appeared to be a beautifully patterned rosewood. Mock took the Humpty Dumpty doll out of his bag. It was plump and squishy, and still pristinly clean. Mock took a moment to analyze the stitching of the doll. The stitching was exquisite and close together, and unless you were really looking for it it seemed unnoticable. 'She must take quite a bit of pride in her work. It truly is masterfully crafted.', Mock thought to himself as he looked at the doll. Mock took out his wood carving knife and began to cut away at the rosewood piece infront of him. He quickly formed it into a rough egg shape. He took out his whetstone and gave the blade a wicked edge. Mock then went back over the egg-shaped oval and slowly and patiently made the wood as smooth as possible. When he finished the wood looked incredibly smooth, but he knew that he could make it even smoother. Mock pulled a fine pumice stone out of his kit and rubbed some oil on the wood. He carefully smoothed the wood down so that there were nearly no imperfections in the shape, and he still was not done with it yet. He brought out a small bottle that was filled with rottenstone from within the leather roll. He poured it on the wood and used a soft cloth to slowly rub the stone into the wood and then wipe it off.

The egg-shaped piece of rosewood had an incredible finish that exentuated the wood grain, and was also unbelievably smooth to the touch. Mock, satisfied with the body, moved on to the left over wood and began to repeat this process with the limbs of Humpty Dumpty. As Mock was working on the right arm of Humpty Dumpty the door creaked open and Morgana walked over towards Mock with a puzzled look on her face. "I'm sorry about using your wood, I'll pay you the price for it, I just wanted to make you a thank you gift for all you've done for me and Ms. Spy. I don't really know how to make anything aside from toys and carvings however, so I thought I could make you something to replace the doll I had bought from you when I came into this shop the first time. I would have made a cloth doll, but I didn't know where the cloth was and the wood was right here."

Morgana walked behind and to the side of Mock and rubbed her chin as she looked at the progess he had made. She picked up the egg and looked at it with a look of amusment and happyness. "Well there are some small issues with it, and you could certainly make things work together much more effeciently, but it's still of exquisite quality. It's not quite on my level of work, but it's certainly close. Morgana, now wearing her apron, blouse, and skirt again, put her hand on the chair and chuckled slightly. "Well Mock I certainly didn't expect you to be an artist or a craftsman, especially a toy maker, after everything that went down. I don't know what you did, but certainly not this."