Young Writers Society

Jax | The Neath | Sunday Night

As Jax followed Nike to where he and Kas would spend the night, he thought about what Alyx had said. She would talk to him tomorrow, he'd make sure that she did.

The room that Nike lead them to was a small spare room. Jax walked in and sat down on an open chair. He looked at Nike and then Kas, "Well come on in, I won't bite."

Kas sneered at Jax, he had obviously heard of him. A surge of pleasure found its way through Jax. He liked that other fighters knew who he was, his reputation was something he had worked hard for.

Kas stepped into the room and went to the sofa that lined the other side of the room. The line has been drawn then. he glanced at Nike and nodded to let him know it was alright. Nike gave a slight nod and then retraced his steps.

After Nike's footsteps had faded, Jax turned and studied Kas. He seemed strong enough to hold his own in a fight, but Jax couldn't be sure until he saw him in action. When he noticed Kas was also studying him, Jax lifted one side of his mouth and said, "Do I live up to them?"

"Live up to what?" The tone of Kas' voice let Jax know that he was not going to get very far.

"The rumors. Do I lived up to what you've heard?" Jax knew some of the rumors that were floating around, but it always gave him a laugh to hear new ones. His favorite was that some people believed that he had robotic appendages under his skin. Jax had no metal under his skin. He may have broken a few bones in his early days, but he had learned how to avoid breaking more.

Jax heard a small laugh escape from Kas, "No, I only see a pure human. Not the god that everyone seems to make you out to be." Kas reclined against the arm of the sofa, extending his legs out in front of him. He folded his arms across his chest, and let his eyes close.

"A god? Now that's a new one." Jax hadn't expected that term to be associated with his name, but it only added to his threat. Knowing that he wouldn't be getting anything else from Kas, Jax let his head fall back against the wall and let the darkness take him.

Monday Morning

Jax awoke with a start. He had had the same dream again. When will they stop it had started after Jax had been knocked in he head a few too many times during a fight. He had gotten a concussion, and when he was finally allowed to sleep, he dreamed. It was always the same, a little boy walking in to find his parents dead on the floor. Blood everywhere, seeping into the carpet and covering the walls.

He shook his head to try to get rid of the memory of the image. Who could do such a thing? He stood and glanced at Kas, still asleep in the same position, he hadn't moved all night. Walked through the doorway and down the hall, Jax made his way to the main room.

He found Nike, at a computer. He casually said, "Morning."

Nike turned his head to look at Jax, "Morning."

Jax rubbed his neck trying to get the stiffness out of it from sleeping in the chair. "What's going on?"

The look on Nike's face turned grave. "They found Aukai Frey last night, he's been stabbed."

Melee Cole // The Neath

Monday Afternoon

Alyx perched herself on the barrel, cocking her head at the people streaming through the streets and tapping on the side of the barrel. There were a lot more than usual and they were carrying objects that normally belonged in the house. Further along the floor, she could hear the sound of drilling. She called out to one of the passing people.

"Hai, what's going on? Why's everyone leaving?"

"Eviction. Order from the Uppers." The woman turned away and continued down the street. Alyx watched her go, then turned back to the block that was being evicted.

"The fuck?"

As the flow started to slow, she could see workers starting to set up barriers with a symbol on them she didn't recognise.

Melee flicked through several screens of his tablet and read for a prolonged second about Miss Sato's plan to modernize the Neath. With a sigh, he folded the clear plastic screen and stowed it in his pocket just in time for his assistant to approach him with coffee.

"Your father sent his regards and reminded me that you have a natural disposition to Smog Flu - so I brought you medicinal--"

He took a sip and spat out - the most bitter bile he'd ever put in his mouth. "Christ, Akane, this is the worst--"

"--it's healthy, Melee." She adjusted her glasses and moved the cup back to his lips. "Drink it all or you'll come down with something, and god forbid I have to take care of you like last time."

He rolled his eyes and choked down the coffee. "How long until evacuation is complete?"

"How about five minutes past get the fuck out of my town?"

Melee glanced up from Akane and cocked his head to the side. There was a mousy brown-haired girl with a glare that could rival Lana's when she couldn't match her purse. But she looked familiar.

"Sir, should I have security remove her?"

"No," he smirked. "What harm can one little Nether do to me?"

Alyx crossed her arms and raised and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Councilman Cole? One little Nether? I wouldn't belittle those whose lives you're impeding on if I were you. You may end up worse."

She tossed him up and down with her glare, then rested on his eyes again, scowling at his smirk. "I assume you got home just fine after you wreaked havoc for us last night."

Melee smiled softly and waved off an approaching curious security guard. Arms crossed, he leaned back against the hood of his car and watched the girl. "You know my name and for the life of me I can't think of yours. But I'll find that out soon enough."

He pulled a cigarette out of a pack and lit it under the cover of his hand. A moment later, he exhaled the smoke from his nose, dragonesque. "You have concerns about us putting our feet down in the Neath, and I want to hear all of them."

She scoffed.

"I'm not kidding." He tapped the cigarette against the edge of the car's hood and crossed his arms again. "Come to lunch with me. There's nothing to do down here anyway - this was mostly a touch-down so I could say I've been here. Come on. I'm paying."

"I don't have time to eat with an Upper, nor do I want your attention." She scowled at him. "I have things to take care of. Your idea of a date messed this whole area up." Tilting her head to one side, she glared at the cigarette between his fingers.

"As for my concerns, don't you think that putting people out of their homes could cause a little annoyance? The Neath doesn't run itself, you know." There was a quiet beep from her wrist and she glanced over her shoulder. She shooed away someone in an alleyway and turned back to him.

"My friends are a little worried."

Smoothly, he crushed the butt of the cigarette under the heel of his shoe and pulled on a pair of form-fitting sunglasses as a glare echoed down from the steel buildings above. Melee clicked a button on the side of the glasses several times before slyly grinning.

"I think you should let your friends worry."

She returned to him with arched eyebrows.

"You look much better without that neon ink in your hair, don't you think?" He took off the shades and watched her with narrowed, victorious eyes. "Yes, I think you should come to lunch with me - unless you'd like to take that date behind bars."

She ground her teeth a little. "Well, that clears up a few things. Like why the police were searching for me specifically." She dragged a hand through her hair, white-blonde streaks rippling through it. "I suppose a few things could wait."

Flicking her wrist, she typed something on the keyboard there, waited for a few moments then nodded before returning her attention to Melee.

She rested a hand on a hip. "I refuse to go to the Upper. And I'll pay for my own food." She turned away from him, starting off. "Well, come on, then."

Before they left Melee's car for the dive bar the girl had selected, before he would step out into the dim light of the Neath, Melee made sure to unbutton his shirt halfway, roll his sleeves up, and tie his hair back in a bandana, technoshades on the bridge of his nose. She'd called him ridiculous. He'd taken her compliment with grace.

So they sat in a booth, two beers and a basket of nuts between them. They tasted saltier to Melee than nuts elsewhere did. Almost as if they'd grown less substantially wherever they were harvested. "So I want to help you, Kale." As that was the name she'd given him when asked. "Tell me how I can better your life in the Neath. Sky's the limit - pick anything."

"Get out of here, and don't come back. Don't mess with our affairs, and for the love of the chasm, don't try bringing Upper companies down here. We don't need you, and it fucks everything up." She leant her chin on her hand, meeting his eyes candidly.

"You say sky's the limit, but I don't remember ever having seen the sky properly. We have our lovely glass roof that lets us see you having fun up there." She picked a nut and popped it into her mouth.

Melee took a sip of his beer and sighed, shaking his head. "Kale, I need you to think about something. You've lived here your entire life - and how many times have you been visited by Uppers?"

He waited.

"I'm sure that until now, you could count it on one hand. Something is changing up above," he waved a nutshell at her, "and social justice is catching up with the pockets of the Uppers."

He subtly took out his tablet and passed it to Kale, pulling up the outlined plan for rennovation. "Those are the full details of our plan for what Miss Sato is calling The Reconstruction Era." A shrug. "Or at least phase one of her plan." He sighed again. "You see, I'm more of a middlegrounds man myself, so I see things from a unique perspective. Miss Sato is ambitious and idealistic, and it's going to get someone hurt."

The waitress came by and dropped off their synthesized burgers, steaming from the laser broil. "She's going to fail, Kale. But you have an opportunity to take the money she's giving you and work her angle to your own advantage." He smiled. "What is it that your gang wants?"

She studied the plans, a frown pulling her brows together. Flicking through the pages, she smirked. "Reconstruction of East Neath? Well, if you want workers to die, then that's a good way to go." She placed the tablet down on the table. "Whoever Miss Sato is, she has no idea what it's like down here. Oxygen? We gave up using that for mainstream deals decades ago. It's memories now." She tapped her head.

"As for what my gang wants... I can't talk for them. I'd like money, sure, but my boss would wipe me and dump me at the bottom of the Neath if I decided something major like that without their say-so." She said it offhandly, as if it were a regular occurrence.

She picked up the burger and took a bite, letting a smile touch her lips for a second. "What are you doing here, except 'saying that you've been here'?"

After a bite, he stuck a finger to his mouth while chewing - it wasn't because the food was disgusting or bad in any way, but because it was a nervous habit in public while thinking. "I had inklings that Miss Sato was a bit late to her game, but you have to admit that the air here is sub-grade--" He looked up and caught her glare before shrugging. "Just a note, as someone who gets to breathe both."

He took his tablet back and took a pen from his pocket, aiming it at her left contact lens. A tiny flash had her blinking several times in surprise. "Just a precautionary measure to make sure those plans stay in your brain only." He took in a fry and put his finger back to his mouth. "I'm here because you drew me in." He took the lettuce from his burger and placed it on the edge of his plate. "There's something about you that had me scrambling to come back to this place - and I think it's destiny that we work together."

Another moment before he relaxed into his seat. "And if I'm being perfectly honest, I'm utterly bored up above. Life is a drag when nothing exciting happens."

She tapped on the table slowly. "Destiny? Who the fuck do you think you are?" She scoffed. "No one believes in destiny down here. We all gave that up after a few years." She latched onto her beer and took a few gulps watching his hands warily. "I'd prefer if you didn't tamper with my memories, by the way. I'm missing quite a few as it is."

"I don't think you'd last long down here if you actually lived here. You don't know anything about our politics or how things work." She smirked, leaning towards him. "Though, you could try it. It could be pretty funny."

Melee took a sip of his beer, eyes suddenly full of energy. He smoldered there for a long moment before grinning, piquing both interest and worry in Kale.

Tuesday Morning

There were very few guests at the foot of Sato's groundbreaking--literally--foundation, but Melee could name each of them from the top of his head. He stood behind a partition, straightening his tie and slicking his hair back behind his left ear just right before a light laugh caught him by surprise. He turned with a start.

"Kale," he cut, sighing in relief. "You brought a friend."

"Yes," she droned, lacing her arm around the man beside her. "This is my partner - see, you never move alone here. If you do..." She held a finger gun to her head and shot, letting her neck go limp.

"Then I'll be happy to assume that your partner will let me borrow you for the next two weeks."

"Senator Cole," called a worker, "they're waiting for your statement."

He bowed out to his two new friends before taking his place in the center of attention of each camera and microphone provided. Honestly, it was a bit underwhelming.

"Senator Cole, what are you trying to say to the people of Nikara by taking a leave of absence immediately after your promotion?"

"Promotion," mused Kale, leaning against her partner. "Our intel didn't have that last night."

"Will you be resigning from your seat due to scandal? Mishap?!"

Melee held up both hands and the press grew very calm and quiet. It was his power over people - almost frightening when watched from third person.

"Ladies, gentlemen, fluids--please remind yourselves that ours is not a society of reading between two lines. We Nikarans believe in honest work with honest rewards, and we thrive in our daily lives because of our upstanding principles and standards. In spending the next two weeks in The Neath, I will determine for myself the conditions and trials faced by each citizen of what I, along with Miss Asami Sato, have moved to rename Lower Nikara. In the end of this trial, I will return a more enlightened man! I ask of each of you with privilege to consider my lessons upon my return. Until then, please direct all questions regarding the Lower Nikara Project to my stand-in councilwoman, Asami Sato."

Cameras flashed and Melee left their focus, rejoining Kale and her partner in the shadows.

"Well, Kale?"

Her partner scoffed. She punched him in the arm. "This way, if you please...Senator."

Their backs turned, Melee allowed himself a sly grin. Senator Cole - President Cole. Such nice sounding names.

Alyx Oali | The Neath | Tuesday morning

Alyx could feel the stares directed at them as they walked down the street. They weren't curious, they were hostile. She knew Nike could feel it, could see his hand resting on the grip of his gun. She tapped on the back of his hand to catch his attention and jerked her head towards a clothes store.

"Cole, you're standing out too much," she said in response to the Upper's questioning stare. "If we keep on walking around with you looking like this, we're going to get jumped. We're on the edge of our gang's territory. Other places aren't as welcoming of you guys."

Alyx pushed open the door and greeted the owner with a nod. "Norry, we need normal clothes for this guy."

She turned back to Melee. "We're going to set down some rules. Rule number one: we know best. You listen to me, Nike, or anyone under us, else you're likely to end up dead."

Melee shrugged out of his blazer and folded it onto the back of an a nearby chair. "Whatever you say, boss." He unfastened cufflinks, untied his tie, and held at length the clothes the man handed him. He wanted to question their material-make. He wanted to know why they felt so scratchy. Accepting them, he looked about the shop curiously. "Where's the dressing room?"

Norry scoffed. "You're standing in it."

Alyx snorted at the lightly horrified expression on his face, then turned to look at a rack of t-shirts next to a wall. "Get a move on, we haven't got all day." She waited until she heard a chuckle from Nike and turned back around.

"It'll do." She passed her hand over the counter, then picked a bag from a pile near the door and shoved his clothes in it before leaving the shop.

"So, Cole, what do you actually want to do down here?" Nike asked as they moved towards the shuttle stop. "This doesn't seem like the ideal place for an Upper to have a holiday."

Melee tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked.

"The main reason," he began, watching passerbyes on the road, "is that someone said I wouldn't be able to do it." He and Alyx exchanged glances and smirks - in that order. "The second reason is that I'm always looking for new challenges and accept anything new with open arms." He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with a microflame. With it in his teeth, he stopped walking and exhaled slowly. "Finally, I think I can do some good for you fuckers, whether you like it or not."

Nike raised his eyebrows and returned his attention to Alyx. "He's as bad as you said."

She nodded as the shuttle arrived, creaking along the tracks. "You're the one who didn't want to believe me." She stepped through the doors of the shuttle and grabbed a handle hanging down from the ceiling.

"So here's the deal, Cole. I do not have the time, nor the inclination to babysit you every hour of the day. And whilst my boss was quite insistent that you stay with me, they were also insistent that I continue working." Her lips tightened incrementally and she tapped on her hip. "So Nike or one of ours will show you around to your heart's content during the day, does that sound fair?"

Melee scoffed and watched other nethers on the train. Some of them were watching him like an animal on display.

"No, that wouldn't constitute living in the Neath." He shook his head. "I'll work with you. Barring illegal activities, I'm sure you'll find my company less of a bother than some of your own gangmates." A smirk. "Plus, I like getting my hands dirty." He winked.

She rolled her eyes at him. "My 'gangmates' do what I tell them to do. For some reason, I get the feeling that you're not going to do that." She rocked from side to side slightly as the shuttle stopped, then checked the level they had arrived at on the screen above the door. "Off we get."

Nike walked close behind her as they stepped off the shuttle. Melee noted a difference in their steps, more confidence, a marked authority in their bearing. They stepped through a doorway, into a large room with smoke floating up next to the ceiling. A pool table stood in the middle. Music pulsed in the air.

"Welcome to our place," Alyx grinned at him, grabbing a bottle of something one of her gangmates handed her.

It didn't take long for Melee to feel the weight of the place bearing down on him. There were plenty of eyes boring holes in his skull - and plenty of enraged orange cigarettes smoldering at the butts where folks had taken a shocked breath in. He took the cigarette from his mouth, though, and dabbed it in an ash tray before sighing.

"Ladies, gentlemen, fluids," he shouted, mocking his own speeches in total, "may I present: the freak of nurture, the bottled baby, mama's boy extraordinaire!" He took a deep breath as he saw small smiles cracking. "Cole." He finished with a small exhale, deciding it best to stick to his last name. It seemed to work for the girl, anyway.

A slender man lit only by computer light scoffed in the corner and raised his voice. "Now accepting wagers and sure bets: Alyx versus Cole--who will kill the other first?!"

"Don't bullshit, Wes. The boss will scalp me if I touch him." She lounged on a sofa, swigging at the bottle.

"Alyx?"

She smirked at his question. "You didn't really think Kale was my real name? It's god-awful." There were snickers from the people surrounding her. "Hey, Arty, how's Aukai today?" She met Melee's eyes, challenging him, somehow.

"He's getting better. He wanted to get up, but Lizae won't let him." The boy shuddered at the name.

"Aukai was stabbed after the raid the other day." She informed Melee. "He was in a place he shouldn't have been, but he was running from the police. We almost lost an asset because of that. Right now, quite a few blame you for it. Just so you know, if you tell the police about anything that happens here, whatever modicum of protection you gain from being around us is gone."

Cole thought on the premise for a moment before shrugging. "It's just as well - I struck a vow of silence with the authorities before taking this dive." He watched Alyx's face.

"You look more like a Kale."

"And you look more like an asshole, but there we go." She smirked, tapping on the arm of the sofa before gesturing for him to sit down on another sofa.

After a few minutes of quiet in the room, people returned to what they had been doing before they came in. Someone handed Alyx a tablet. She glanced at it, then sighed. "Nike, you take care of this." She handed the tablet to him. He looked at it and groaned, but nodded.

After a while, Melee got up from his couch and sat down right beside her. He could nearly see a vein throbbing - annoyed - on her forehead, but he relaxed into the couch and watched Nike amble away with the tablet. "You two don't really pass as a couple. How long did it take you to fall for him, and," he scoffed, "can I get on that waiting list?"

She stopped watching the people and pinned him with a glare. "We aren't a couple." She growled, her tapping slowing. "And there is not 'waiting list'. Even if there was, you wouldn't have a chance of getting on it." She stood up, striding over to the pool table and picking up a cue.

But he followed, a venerable dog with a bone. "And what is it about me that disqualifies my waiting on this list? Is it how I could provide for you? Is it my dashing good looks?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Or is it how I'm going to be President?"

He backed up, laughing, before grabbing a cue from the wall rack. He twisted it about with his wrist before leaning a hip against the pool table. "Never been beaten in pool. Let's make a game interesting...Alyx."

The attention of the gang members was quickly turning to them, a murmur spreading through the room. "It's more the fact that you seem hell-bent on ruining any reputation I have. And that fucking huge ego of yours."

She narrowed her eyes at him, before bending over the table and setting up the game. "It depends on what you call interesting."

Cole soaked up the attention - because of course he did. He raised his voice a little and watched the room from the corner of his eye. "If I win, sweetheart, you spend two weeks in The Upper with me when this is over." He watched her twitch as she broke the billiards.

"I'd say I'm off to a nice start."

~

She threw down the cue on the table with disgust, glaring at him. "That wasn't a fair game. There is no way I'm going through with your penalty. A Nether doesn't belong in the Upper anyway."

"And an Upper doesn't belong in the Neath, either!" He laughed and stowed his cue and watched her storm off while several gangmates laughed her away as well. Once she left the room, the skinny guy at the computer looked around the room again.

"Still taking bets."

Cole took a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the guy, stowing his hands in his pockets. "Put me down as dying first. Worded just like that."

"You're ridiculous and completely right."

"I walk that line. I do."

He followed after Alyx and watched his surroundings as the hallway he entered became unfamiliar. The only thing that caught his eye was a sliding door hissing shut further down.

She placed her hand on a plate next to the door and it lit up red, apparently locking.

"Do you know how hard it is to keep them under control?" Her voice snapped into the silence between them. "They're worse than me when I ended up down here. If I look ridiculous, then I lose control."

She turned to face him. "I am not going to the Upper with you.

Cole leaned against the door, eyes closed. "It's unfair," he said, "to expect a total outsider to understand how your inner circle works." He took his vaporizer from his pocket and turned the laser light on. Steam drifted out and he sighed.

"You have nothing but anger for me, and I understand that." He waited. "But please acknowledge that I am making attempts at creating a space between two totally different worlds - and I'm doing it totally alone."

A moment later, he handed the vaporizer to her and raised his eyebrows. "I'm not just doing this for fucking fun, you know. I'm investigating the two-dozen reported missing people over the past month."

Her smirk turned into a scowl. "More like two hundred. The police don't believe us when we report them, so we stopped reporting them. They're not going to do a fuck about it anyway. We've been look-" She broke off her sentence, looking away. "It's not the gangs, anyway. There's been enough... dialogue about it."

The door they had come through opened again and someone stuck their head in. "Boss, there's a Jax here for you. He won't leave. He says to stop putting him off, or you'll get the wrong end of it." Melee saw her shoulders tense up.

"I need to take care of this. You.. go play pool or something."

Monday Night

Jax took another gulp from his glass. He had found his way to the bar after Nike had explained what had happened to Aukai. He wanted to forget the events of the past two days, he wanted to lose himself in the girl at the bar. Sitting by herself, she had obviously come looking for attention. They had locked eyes three times already, and she had given him a shy smile the last time.

Downing the contents of his drink, he strode to the bar and casully leaned against it. All it took was another drink and she was pulling on his arm, urging him to take her back to his place.

Jax knew that the kids would be looking for him. Zander knew how to manage things when Jax was gone, but he couldn't handle it for more than a day.

Jax pulled the girl, whose name was Lila, to him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and lead her back to his place. He needed one more night for himself before going back to reality.

Tuesday Afternoon

Jax look up from clenching and unclenching his fists. The scabs were starting to heal up. More scars to add to my collection. His mouth hiked up on one side, he was proud of his scars, they told his story for him. Hearing footsteps he turned toward the sound and waited to find out who the owner was.

When he saw Alyx coming down the hall, the smirk was replaced by a full smile- teeth and all. She knew he meant business this time. She wasn't going to avoid his questions again. "Well, hello there Mouse."

He saw her lips tighten with satisfaction.

"I'm not in the mood for fucking around, bruiser. Sure, I'm sorry I kept putting you off, but I've been more than busy." She tapped rapidly on her leg and ran the other hand through her hair, with white streak trailing her fingers. "You want to talk, right? This way."

She lead him down the hall, turning through a sliding door into a small office. She moved to sit behind the desk and poured herself a drink before turning to him and leaned back in her chair.

"So shoot me with your questions."

Jax plopped down onto the couch she had in the corner. "As you know, I've been having dreams. Well- a dream. It's the same dream every night." Jax shivered at the memory of the blood. It was more than he had ever seen in the ring.

He gripped the arm of the couch so hard that the scabs on his knuckles started separating from his skin. He looked directly into Alyx's eyes and said, "I see a little boy walking into a home to his parents dead on the floor and blood covering everything. That's all I see, the bodies and the blood. I can't seem to get rid of it no matter what I do. Most nights I drink myself to sleep, so I can at least get some rest. I have no idea who these people are or why they died, but I know I need to."

She took a gulp of her drink, breaking his stare. "Geez, man, I'm not your councillor." She caught his glare and sighed.

"I have an idea of what it could possibly be, but you don't really hear about it that often." She poured a drink and handed it to him. "Do you remember when you were wiped. Could you assume it was done by a gang?"

Jax shook his head. "I' woke up 17 years ago in an alley, wiped. What do you think it could be? A faulty wipe? But why would they kill them and not me? It just doesn't make any sense."

He was starting to think that he would never get rid of the dream or find answers to his questions. The gangs acted like independent groups, so many pieces that fit together to form the Neath. His own boss had tried looking into it for him, but hadn't found anything useful. To Jax's knowledge, it was a random hit and he was just a casualty of the war between the gangs.

He raised his gaze to the glass that Alyx held. The liquid swirling around, creating prism patterns on the wall and desk.

"Your parents could've been working on something that someone else didn't like. It could've been wrong place, wrong time. I don't carry out threats of that kind, I don't really know how it works. But you wouldn't have been seen as a threat. Children's brains are...malleable. They're a lot easier to wipe. And a child isn't expected to last terribly long down here by themselves." She looked vaguely unwell as she took a large gulp of her drink, disrupting the patterns.

"As for your wipe... I wouldn't say faulty. 17 years ago... well, I can't remember that far back, but from what I've heard, the Neath really wasn't top par on memory jobs. You could go in for a selective memory and get a wipe." She pressed her forehead the glass. "So you could be having recalls, maybe."

"Recalls? Like I could eventually start to remember more than just my parents covered in blood?" Jax wasn't sure if he wanted to remember more, but he certainly didn't want anyone messing with his memories again. He knew that some gangs took more than what was needed. They stole information that way, and he wasn't letting anyone near enough to steal anything from him. His boss might be the kingpin of the Neath, but that didn't mean he didn't have enemies.

"Not normally, from what I've heard of. Recalls are mainly scenes that marked you, often just before the wipe. I can't get any information on them from the computer, seeing as Upper wipes don't leave a trace image, so I have to go on hearsay from other wipers." She drained the rest of the glass and hesitated a second before taking a bottle of water instead.

"What people normally suggest is another wipe, a selective one of any trace memories from before your last wipe, but if you're like me, you're not going to let anyone near your memories again unless it's by force." He caught a slight frown from her as she said it, playing with the cap of the bottle. "It's possible the recalls could fade away, or you'll just have to live with them."

Jax nodded in understanding. He figured he'd have to live with it. So, now it was on to the hard part. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Now here's the tricky part, can we find out who they were? Who I am."

He felt the sting of tears a the corner of his eyes and fought to not let them show. He didn't even know these people, but they were his parents. He felt obligated to find out who they were.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know, Jax. Maybe try finding familiar places, apparently you can tell places you've spent a lot of time in. Gang wipes aren't perfect. You have residual emotions." She glared at the water bottle, shrugged slightly and poured herself a glass of the earlier drink.

"If you're going to go anywhere trying to find things out, I suggest you ask your boss which gangs were doing wipes back then. There can't have been that many." She leaned towards him, holding the glass in two hands. "Just as a warning, and this may sound cliché, but some things are best left unknown, especially if they've been wiped."

A sigh escaped his lips. He felt like he would never have the answers. "Alright, well thanks for answering my questions. Even though you did dodge me for a day." The smirk reappeared on his face. He wouldn't let anyone know how he truly felt. He had to make sure not to look weak to anyone. You never knew who was listening in.

He rubbed his palms on his jeans and stood. Grabbing the glass from Alyx's hands on the way up. He saw her jaw drop in disbelief before he winked and downed the liquid.

"Urgh, just leave." She sighed, snatching the glass back from him.

Just as he was about to leave the office, she called him back. "If you need me, by which I mean, if you are in a dire situation and I am literally the only person who can help, send me a message." She gripped his wrist and he saw her contact details add themselves to his list. "Don't try passing them around, they have a blocker on them."

She picked up the glass and bottle and shooed him out of the office, shutting the door behind her. Pointing down the end of the corridor, she leaned next to a door emanating music. "That's the way out." She waited where she was, watching him.

|Aukai Frey | The Neath | Wednesday Morning|

"Is... Is it supposed to look like that?" Arty asked nervously.

She scoffed. "Of course it is. It just looks like that because he won't take any shots."

A new blossom of pain seared through his abdomen as he felt the sharp manicured claw of the she-doctor poke his stomach. He moaned a curse that didn't particularly make sense.

"Oh, shut up, you're fine." She said offhandedly.

He had his arms crossed over his eyes, and their muscles strained as if to keep something from escaping, though there wasn't anything in particular that the motion was aiming toward. With his bandages freshly removed and his chest newly exposed and the fact that he was forced to stretch his body out until his very hairs screamed (he had been threatened rather explicitly about what would happen if he refused to do so) he felt precisely like a piece of meat, with three sets of eyes peering into his guts and measuring his worth. He wasn't quite used to being questioned and examined in such bulk for such a long period of time (three days - he had been stuck in the same bed for three days) and he longed for the sensation of walking again.

He had expressed this numerous times. He did so again.

"So- let's say, I don't know- that I can go-"

"No." She said, not removing her eyes from his puckering skin.

"Buh- but- " Aukai sighed in exasperation that hitched as she poked him again, "I haven't stood on my own in days, save for when I have to go to the bathroom, and that doesn't even count."

"I said no."

"How do you know I can't do things on my own unless I try?" He countered, peeking at her through his arms. She paused, then raised one of her ridiculously dark and expressive eyebrows. With a speed that remained with Aukai longer than the pain, she picked up one of her many pointy medical things and pressed it over his stitches.

After Aukai had wiped the spit from his mouth, spat it onto the floor, and coughed on the sharp raspiness of his throat, he started to roll off of the bed. Two sets of hands, undoubtedly belonging to Arty and the she-doctor's dark skinned assistant Marx, pushed him back.

"Ugh, dammit. Marx, go get the needle and disinfectant - his lip needs stitches. You, Arty, clean that crap up before I slip in it." There was a racket of shuffling as the cramped room scrambled to her demands.

Aukai remained in his half dead position, his arms strewn over his head, his body angled slightly to the right. After a moment he felt his arms pulled to his side and a sharp claw gripped his chin. With keen pricks of pain, the she-doctor stabbed into his lip and jerked the translucent thread tight. With a pointed lack of delicacy she wiped his mouth with a ratty towel.

"There. Now," the volume of her voice faded, indicating that she had backed up to talk to Arty, "don't give him any more pain medication - I'll do that when I come from now on. Check to make sure the stitches don't get infected or anything and make sure he doesn't kill himself by the time I get back." That was the way she said good-bye.

He heard Marx packing things next to him with quick efficiency. Something in his bag caught his eye and Aukai started in a sudden alertness.

"Hey, what's the date?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbow. Marx appeared to jump, casting his dark eyes to him and then to the she-doctor, who waited impatiently at the door, and then back to Aukai.

"The seventh," Marx replied hesitantly. Aukai realized it was the first time he had heard his voice.

His expression suddenly became weighted down with a sense of dread. He stared at Marx in complete tribulation. Marx stared at Aukai in dumbfounded apprehension.

"What? Why? What's so important about the seventh?" The she-doctor said hotly, still waiting (and letting everyone know she was waiting by tapping her sharpened heel repeatedly) with the door slightly cracked open.

"Well, I, uh." Aukai stuttered for an excuse, floundering and failing to wipe the seriousness out of his face, "I forgot to, uh, feed my-"

"Shut up, I don't care enough. Marx, are you finished or what?" Marx rushed to finish packing his bag and joined her at the door. As they left, he waved awkwardly goodbye to Arty.

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Each not particularly acquainted with the other (and one being terrified of seemingly any interaction whatsoever) left for stiff conversation occasionally broken by the glaringly loud clamor of Arty trying to find something to do in his makeshift kitchen. During these times, Aukai would fake sleep, and Arty would be secretly relieved.

He did this now. Though, he even struggled to pretend to pretend to fake sleep. His brows were fixed together. He only stirred when he became uncomfortable, which was relatively often. There was no window in the cramped apartment, so time was told by when Arty would begin to settle down on the futon that had been dragged in sometime during his arrival. Until then, Aukai's mind began to churn a plan.

|Wednesday night|

In the pitch black cover of night, Aukai's eyes remained strained open. He constantly glanced about himself, sucked to the scratchy covers, terrified of the thought of moving. He listened intently to Arty softly snoring to the left of the bed he laid on. Slowly, he adjusted his arm into a position where it might be able to lift him up. He froze. His ears strained to pick up any hint of variation in Arty's hitching breath. He waited a minute. Then, he lifted himself up.

The bed seemed to wail his betrayal.

Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-

Arty stirred and flopped over, noisily smacking his lips. Aukai waited an extra three minutes. Arty resumed snoring.

He began to nudge his feet off of the bed. He moved a bit quicker, but still painfully slow. The bed creaked at his every movement. Aukai placed his feet upon the cold cement floor, painfully biting his lip. When he confirmed that his feet were firmly planted, he stood in one swift motion.

There was a moment of silence. The bed had given a final cry of outrage. He waited, his attention riveted on the man sleeping behind his back. Arty's snoring remained the same. Aukai began to mentally reward himself, until a wave of dizziness crashed down upon him.

He began to tilt forward. He waved his arms around, struggling for balance, stumbling a step. Pain shot through his big toe as he smacked into something round and metal, which flew to the facing wall and clattered into a pile of other miscellaneous items. The pile collapsed to the floor in a catastrophe of noise. Aukai still struggled for balance, until his palm found the wall. He ceased to move.

Arty's snoring had paused. A minute passed. Five minutes. Aukai's eyes were squeezed tight in a painful wince. He heard him shift. Arty mumbled something. His breathing eventually evened.

Aukai sighed in relief, then shut his mouth. He crept over to a plain chair semi-within the kitchen, a dark figure against the black. He fumbled for the frayed jacket and cap that he had watched Arty put there and tucked it all under his arm. Glancing back, he noted Arty's foot slightly hanging off of the futon. He carefully picked his way to the door, and, using his body to block any light that might seep in, slipped outside.

Once out the door, he quickly threw the jacket on, wincing, and tucked loose golden hairs into the cap. Walking briskly and glancing sideways, he flicked the hood over his eyes, struggling to remember street names without his chip to help him.

He labored for breath by the time he had gone three blocks, and had to do periodic rests by the time he had walked five. He was sweating by six. He still had a whole section of the Neath to cross. Luckily, his apartment was in the same general direction. He stopped by quickly, his fingers darting to a small box he kept under his bed. He fished out a roll of worn bills, appearing as if they had been held and rubbed many times, and slipped it into his pocket. He returned to the streets, heading towards the East Neath.

This was the tricky part.

It was impossible to simply walk into the East Neath. It was more like stumbling and climbing, tripping and falling, or, tunneling down. It required twisting around, doubling back, splashing into deep puddles, ducking into crevices when needed and jumping over failing bridges. And, of course, avoiding the androids.

The exoskeleton of the East Neath was why it was so difficult to enter, not the actual inside, where life breathed, thrummed, and beat with the archaic conception of sin. It was its own city with its own makeshift protection. Outside, blackened and long abandoned apartments sagged upon one another, rotting and dying with a hopeless camaraderie. Concrete crumbled near the edge of the walkways, giving up after repeated abuse. Aukai heaved himself over piles of trash that accumulated over his head.

He could hear no sound except for himself. This complete loneliness, the solid sensation of isolation, seeded a deep sense of foreboding in the pits of his chest. He was used to people, bustling and arguing and angry looking people. His wound throbbed less of pain and more from memory.

He passed a shell of an NBI vehicle, hollowed out by looters and marked by vandals. A sign was plastered to the wall next to it, declaring with striking red letters:



Someone had painted a familiar symbol in neon paint over it. Aukai shivered and turned down another road.

There were multiple ways inside the East Neath. He, though, only knew one, and he wasn't even sure if it really was a way. Slipping inside one of the failing buildings, he scaled the unstable stairs. Some were missing, and when he looked down he could see parts where the walls had crumbled into rooms. Blackened heaps of rags quivered in the corners, and musky smells wafted to greet him. One of them made him pause, a strange flickering thing in the corner catching his eye. He yelped when a desperate, bleeding and bitten hand suddenly snatched at his ankle, nails black and leaking puss, almost as thin as his fingers. He jerked his foot away and slammed his heel on the creature's wrist. There was a horrible, screeching noise, and the hand darted away. Aukai quickened his pace, a stab of guilt in his heart.

The building's former purpose changed the further he went. The apartments faded away and ransacked stores replaced them. Then there were offices, all appearing as if they had never been opened yet were ruined all the same, then it went back to apartments. Gripping his kidneys, he made it to the roof. He shouldered the door open and stumbled out of the clammy stairway.

The roof was surprisingly lacking in filth. It wasn't that it was clean - he was still technically outside the East Neath - it just lacked the clutter that accompanied frequent human passing. He walked over to the edge, where a flimsy board had been placed so it crossed to the next roof.

There was a network of such makeshift bridges, steadily plunging deeper into the East Neath. Sometimes the path required him dragging himself into a window, or hauling himself up a rusted rail, or hurdling over alleyways where there wasn't anything to walk on. His muscles screamed for air under the stuffy jacket, and his lip bled freely. His wound threatened to tear him apart.

Finally. He rested at the end of the makeshift path, sweating heavily. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he had the vague feeling that he was late. He looked at the thick metal door that led into yet another building, which will eventually spill onto the street. He moaned, and heaved himself off of the floor. Limping, one hand on his back and the other on his stomach, he panted to the door, falling on it so it would open.

He was glad to be back on the streets, even if they weren't as safe as the cover the path provided. Before him was the Wall. That's what he called it, at least. It was really one massive blockade, made out of patrol cars, vicious looking barbed wire, fallen building and, yes, an actual wall, with the NBI's stamp. It supposedly spread for miles in all directions, but no one had the time nor the desire to explore it - its border was infested with androids. Glancing around quickly, he crawled inside one of the patrol cars. A couple of metal splinters, a bruise, and four other patrol cars later, he slithered out the other side.

It looked much the same inside as it did outside. But, his fingers tingled with movement, and the thrum of loud music echoed off the uneven walls.

A few blocks later and he was submerged in a roiling crowd. Drunkards, dancers, thieves, prostitutes - bumping elbows, shouting, singing, grabbing, touching. His ears were ringing with noise. Someone screamed in his ear, illegible. Around him, displayed in the fronts of shops and clubs alike, was the same neon symbol.

He gripped the bills in his pocket tight. Forcing his way forward, his eyes scanned the businesses pushing onto the street, their signs purposefully fixed high. They varied tremendously. Some had high windows, exposing half naked women who laughed and waved at the desperate men below. Other had no windows at all, and only a faint light under the doors hinted that it was occupied. Some faked riches, with sleek silver walls that chipped in places and flashing lights that didn't follow a particular pattern. Some feinted at a stranger type of style, with thick beams that had women stretching across translucent fabric and vapor spilling out of their mouths.

His destination was more exotic, and heat had begun to creep up his neck. He stopped when he finally caught sight of what he was looking for: "Xerabella's Gentlemen's Club."

He ducked his head in embarrassment as he entered.

He was immediately assaulted by a very, very dangerous and frightening looking man. Aukai was tall, sort of, but he found himself staring at the very, very wide chest of a bodyguard. He looked up (up, up) into the pupil-less eyes of a... cat man? His ears had been stretched out and somehow made so they stood up by themselves, and while one part of his head was shaved, the other was a bright caramel blonde color, and flopped over his forehead. Pale dots spotted his dark skin and gradually became larger the further away they were from his face. Aukai stared him in a mix of fear, horror, and awe.

The cat man gripped Aukai's upper arms and lifted him off of his feet, causing his hood to fall. He cried out in surprise and wiggled around, struggling to break free, and the cat man moved as if to toss him away.

"Down, Stanley! He's with me." A voice called from inside.

They both stopped moving, regarding each other. Then, the cat man gently put him down. He moved to the side and gestured for Aukai to enter. Aukai rubbed his shoulders and hesitantly stepped through the door.

Inside, he was assaulted yet again. This time, though, it was a different and much more... personal assault. Three women, each looking like some creature he couldn't name that all had scales, approached him and greedily began rub his arms, his back, his face, talking sweet seductive things in his ear.

Aukai immediately stiffened and flushed a reddish color, avoiding eye contact and struggling to reach a figure lounging on a couch at the other side of the room. The figure visually enjoyed Aukai's struggle. When he finally sat opposite to the man, he casually waved the women away. They disappeared behind a corner.

"Didn't figure you a greeny, boy." He laughed heartily, throwing his head back and slapping his knee. "Ya know, I'll give you a discount, just 'cus I like the looks of you. You can have any women in here for half price for half an' hour. My treat."

"I-I'm good." Aukai replied, sighing and jerking off the cap. His hair was plastered to his head.

"Damn, boy, did Stanley scare ya that bad?" He laughed again. The cat man in question went to stand by him. "Ya know I named him. He looks like a Stanley to me, doesn't 'e? When I first went to hire him I looked him and the eye and you know what I said? I said you's looks like a Stanley, so Stanley is what you gonna be. Hey, you ain't gotta worry 'bout nothin', he just a big ole' softy."

Aukai regarded Stanley uneasily. Stanley's face remained the same.

"SO." Aukai jerked his attention back to the man. "Is I right when I say you is the young gentleman that wanna know the who-who's and the what-what's about a certain sorty-sort?"

Aukai nodded, though he didn't completely understand what the man said. He jumped when the man suddenly began to clap his hands and laugh. When he finished, he leaned forward on his knees and held out a hand.

"The name's Tik-Tuk, or you can just call me Tuk. Or Tik. But don't you ever fucking call me TickyTick." He said. Aukai shook his hand.

"I'm Aukai Frey, and I'm looking for-"

Tuk suddenly yelled incomprehensibly. "I don't wanna hear none o'that right now, boy. Tonight's a good night. What's wrong with some good con-ver-sat-ing first?"

This is why you don't go to the East Neath, his mind reminded him.

Tuk, despite him calling Aukai 'boy' repeatedly, was only twenty-nine. Physically, he was dwarfed to both Aukai and Stanley, and built like a rope. Gangly with thin but defined arms, a head that almost looked too large for his body, and a single lock of bright orange hair on his head, twisted and flipped in a way that looked like it took hours, dominated his appearance. His face was scratched up as if he had just finished washing his face in glass, slightly freckled, and squinting golden eyes peered out of a jut of forehead where his eyebrows should have been. His toothy grin lacked teeth here and there, and he wore an open vest that revealed a curling snake tattoo. His gloves resembled gauntlets and had strange bumps over the knuckles. On his left arm was a black band, where the neon gang symbol declared itself boldly.

He had said something and was gesturing madly at the entrance of the small private area. Two women approached with plates: two fruity looking drinks and a small appetizer of something wrapped. Once the plates were placed upon the table, the one resembling a canine slung herself over Tuk and the other one approached Aukai.

He started, and heat returned to his face. The woman didn't have fur, or scales, but feathers - glittering feathers, multicolored with multiple lengths - and instead of hair on her head, feathers coalesced down her back and over her shoulder. The skin around her eyes were darkened to emphasize her sparkling eyes. Only feathers covered her body, and otherwise her tantalizing skin remained bare. A fact that Aukai was pointedly aware of.

Tuk laughed. "Name's Glamour, that one. She works good with greenies."

"I, uh, um-" Aukai stuttered. He glanced between the woman (who had found herself at home on his lap) and Tuk. Aukai gripped the fabric of the couch. "Tuk-"

The bird woman reclined on his shoulder and placed a hand on his abdomen, where his stitches still throbbed. Aukai cried out and jerked off of the couch, gripping his stomach, unintentionally shoving her away.

Four sets of eyes scrutinized him. The small private section became weighted with silence.

"That wasn't very polite, boy." Tuk's tone had taken a dark tone. His expression was no longer light and humored, but had retained an emotionless savagery expected of a member of one of the most dangerous gangs in the Neath.

"Uhm." Aukai glanced repeatedly around the room. Finally, he remembered what was in his pocket.

He slapped the roll of cash on the table. When he removed his hand, it gained all of the room's attention. There was a pause, and then a sly grin pulled upon Tuk's face.

"So, boy, you wanna get to talkin' bout that certain sorty-sort yet?"

"Yes, yes. I gotta know where my brother is. Please."

|Alyx Oali | The Neath | Wednesday Evening|

Alxy groaned, leaning against the bar as the world began to tilt. Picking her glass up from the the scratched surface, she took a sip, white-blonde strands of hair flopping forwards into her eyes slightly. The colour was reassuring. She needed all the reassurance she could get.

She had had enough. The second day. She was only at the second day and she already wanted Cole gone. It wasn't that he annoyed her, though he did take every feasible possibility to make a swipe at her. It was the fact that her people liked him. She had been ready for them to hate him for the Upper that he was, to scorn him for saying he wanted to help, but they had lapped it straight up and curled into his lap like stray cats. She was jealous, she did realise that. Jealous of an Upper for taking away her people. She glanced at the glass perched in her hand and took another sip. God, she was getting drunk. Again.

She tapped slowly on the counter as she turned around and responded to the pinprickle of a stare on her back which she had been feeling for a moment. Quietly returning the man's observation of her actions, she took him in. He wasn't a regular fighter, like Kas or Jax, she knew already, but he could hold his own. His hair was shoulder-length, longer than most Nether men would have it, but it fitted him strangely. She could see the high grade tech - but not the type Cole used - peeking out where it wasn't meant to be noticed.

The hourglass tattoo high on his neck had had her hackles raised the moment she had seen it. It glowed slightly in the dark corner of the room and she realised it pulsed with his beat, slow and strong. As she watched, the hourglass flipped and started emptying again. Interactive ink. She smiled slightly at the innovation then schooled her expression back into a scowl. It wasn't that hard. He wasn't meant to be there.

Draining her glass, she tapped on the counter for a refill. As she turned to take the drink handed to her, the man slid onto the stool next to her, a lopsided grin pulling his face upwards. Alyx raised an eyebrow and turned away from him, watching the bar again. Noting the edgy glances they were getting, her scowl deepened.

"Hey, Alyx, y'know I'm here so talk to me, will ya?" He made to nudge her then seemed to think again and leaned on the bar.

"Hey, Saul, here's an idea : get the fuck off our land and leave me be." She bit back, still glaring around the bar. No one would meet her gaze, all darting their eyes away, pretending not to be listening to the conversation.

"I'm not here to start a war, princess, so set those hackles down." She took a sip of her drink and turned to fix her stare on him, anger bubbling at the nickname.

"What else would you be here for? You're clearly not coming back to ask the boss to take you back, like a good kid." She frowned and took a gulp of her drink. She wasn't sure she could remember why he had left. The bar tilted again and she leaned back.

"Now you know I ain't gonna do that. Jay wouldn't 'preciate it." His fingers fluttered at his tattoo for a second before settling on the bottle in front of him.

"I'm sure she wouldn't," Alyx retorted, feeling her shoulders tense at the mention of the rival gang leader. She heard Saul huff.

"Still a guard dog, huh?" His voice was gently scorning, even then meant to hurt and dig.

"I have never been a guard dog," she snarled, finally turning to glare at him. "Just because I didn't leave."

"You should've done." She blinked at the vehemence in his voice. "How many months're you missing now? One? Two?" He stared at her, waiting for her reply to prove his point. Her boss' methods were certainly harsh, but they weren't the harshest. It was how she always tried to make it right, this way of justifying it to herself.

She turned away, tapping on the table. "Four." He faltered slightly at the anger in her voice, wasn't sure where it was directed. "You're not going to get me to leave, Saul. Tell me what you're really here for then fuck off."

His expression slipped into a frown. "A block collapsed on the Strip."

She cocked her head at him, a scowl on her lips again. "What the heck's that got to do with me?"

"It's right on the border with you. Some people are saying that Straat's looking to expand again. You might want t'watch your back." He finished his drink and stood up, patting her on the back. "Jay would have ya, y'know." Leaving the bar, he left the words in the air next to her.

She flexed her hand gently at her side, trying to work the red crescents from her palm. Saul definitely wasn't her favourite person in the Neath, even if she knew he was just concerned about her. She didn't want other people's concern.

After slowly draining her drink, she ambled out of the bar, humming a quiet tune to herself. It was close to curfew so everyone was leaving the bars, anticipating the red lights and the repetitive words. It grated on everyone, and there were grumbles every time, but it wasn't something that could change.

Wandering through the streets, she wasn't sure if she wanted to go home. Melee was there, and Melee was a pain. She was annoyed and drunk, and that wasn't going to be conclusive to anything but bickering.

In the end, she ended up on the sofa in her office, tossing over until she finally ended up asleep.


Thursday Morning

A deafening ringing in her ears woke her up. Blinking, she rolled over and glanced at her screen, scowling at the time. After a few seconds, the ringing stopped, then promptly took up again.

"Boss! Don't kill me but-"

"That's not a good way to start a call at this time in the morning, Arty." She growled, passing a hand over her eyes. "Now what am I going to skin you for this time?"

"Aukai's gone." His voice trembled.

She sat up, blinking as the world swirled for a second. "When did he go? And you'd better tell me that he knocked you out after a fight."

"He- he left whilst I was asleep." His voice was almost silent.

"You'd better hope he comes back, Arty, or you'll be finding someone else who'll put up with your shit." She hung up on him and lay back down on the couch. The crap day was only just fucking starting.

~~~

She sat on the bed, waiting for him to come in. She was still, not moving a muscle. Her anger had been stewing since the call from Arty. If this kid thought that he could just use her and then fuck off, then he had another thing coming. She could feel Lizae smoldering next to her.

The door hissed slightly as it opened and let Aukai in, looking apprehensive. His expression turned to alarm as he saw her.

"Hey, Aukai. You must be feeling really good to go wandering off, huh?"

He stood in the doorway, frozen in midstride. His mouth opened slightly and a sound like a wheezing cat stumbled and died on his lips, falling to his floor in an apparent lack of excuse. The kid looked like hell. Not that she cared.

"Uh." His wide eyes darted about the room. "I had to... feed my-"

"Sure thing, hon. But I stopped by your apartment earlier, and you were't there." She crossed her legs and leaned back on her arms. "You weren't at Oren's either. And hell if any of my people could find you in our land." Cocking her head at him, she let a thin smile dance on her lips. "So care to tell me where you were?"

"Uh." A tremor worked its way down his spine. He was utterly petrified of this petite gang woman. "I was... uh. Uhm."

"Yes?"

"I... went to..."

"Spit it out."

"The... East Neath?" His voice cracked and pitched higher, like a school girl's. He coughed, trying to recover. His skin began to flush deeper.

"The East Neath!" The doctor shrieked from her place in the corner, startling Aukai. "Do you want to die? That place is crawling with filth!"

"Lizae, shut up." Alyx snapped, straightening up. "Though, Aukai, I do have to wonder if you do want to die." Her voice was like mercury - liquid and deadly. She was still, watching him as he shuffled on the spot.

"So, what were you doing there? I assume you weren't visiting for fun. Oren has better taste in boarders than that."

He swallowed. His eyes strayed to Arty, who cowered in a chair in the kitchen and tried to ignore them by flipping through screens on a tablet. His back was to them. Aukai stared at him for a moment, appealing for mercy, but Arty only hunkered down more. With some pain, he looked back to the gang members.

"I had some business, is all. Just..." He shifted some more. Swallowed again. "Business." Then he winced, regretting what he had said.

"Business?" Alyx strained. "I wonder what kind of business you could have to do in the East Nether?" Her voice was mockingly questioning and she pressed a finger to her lips. She let him squirm for a few minutes.

"What you mean is that you had business with the Neons, didn't you." He could hear the anger welling up in her voice. She was almost trembling. She wanted nothing more than to jump up and sock him if she wasn't sure Oren would appreciate it.

A nervous titter came from his mouth. He was trembling as well. "It's just that... well... they're good at finding things. B-But it's not like you guys aren't good at, ya know, memory wipes and stuff. The Neons just know how to... find stuff... better?" His voice pitched again. Arty noisily shifted, burrowing deeper into the squeaky chair. His body language related that he ready to dart away if the need came.

"Arty, sit still or piss off. Thin ice doesn't even start to describe your situation right now." Arty paled and stopped shuffling. Alyx returned her attention to Aukai, drilling him with her glare. "Did you try asking us? Or did you just make the assumption that giving them your money - and I'm sure it was an extortionate price - would keep them from scamming you when they've got what they wanted?"

He opened his mouth and then shut it. A true look of ponderment crossed his face, and with certainty he said, "I didn't give them all of it, though. Just a fraction. A third, I think?" His thick eyebrows knotted together as he tried to remember.

This kid was seriously grating on Alyx's nerves.

"A deposit!" He said loudly, then looked mildly proud of himself for remembering what it was called. "That's what Tuk called it."

"For the love of the Chasm you're obtuse." She muttered, kneading her brow. "Wait. Tuk? You mean TickyTick? That string of sinew?" A scoff rolled its way out of her throat against her will. "You can't trust that guy with anything, believe me. He's the type to sell out his own people."

A frown worked its way across Aukai's face, and then it hardened to stubbornness. "But... but I gave him the money, and he said he'd look for him."

This time, Alyx laughed. "Are you sure you're from the bottom Neath? How the fuck are you not dead yet? TickyTick wouldn't think twice stealing from an infant, let alone you, even for a little cash."

"But..." Multiple emotions warred across his features. "I gave him the money." Finally, doubt won, and he slumped a bit against the wall. "I... I gave him a third of it. A third of everything."

"And you're a dumb shit for doing that." She arched an eyebrow at him. "See, TickyTock and I have... let's say a history. Basically, he's piss scared of me. If I was so inclined, I could get your money back." Her voice trailed off and she looked thoughtful for a while.

"Straat wouldn't like it." Lizae interjected sharply.

"It was hypothetical. I know the boss wouldn't like it. I'm not sure if I want to help this kid though."

Meanwhile, Aukai had stood up straighter and energy lighted his eyes so they sparked with life. A smile cracked and slowly spread, pulling the skin over his ears. The filth, ripped clothing and speckles of blood didn't seem to be apart of him, as if someone with little tack had pinned them there and smacked dirt on his cheeks. He beamed.

"You'll help me?" He pleaded. "Please, I'll-I'll, I don't know, do something. Whatever you want. I'll quit racing."

Aukai appeared utterly ready to throw away the only life he had enjoyed and been good at. Whatever he had needed to find was worth it to him.

"Eh, that's a good source of revenue though." She peered at her fingernails then flicked them slightly. "You might have to take it up with my boss. In fact, you would have to. Me going into East Nether could be tantamount to declaring war, depending on how the Neons feel." She ran her hand through her hair, which she had returned to its white-blonde state.

"Then, I'll do that," he said with conviction. "When can I meet your boss?"

"I don't know." She shrugged nonchalantly. "He's a fickle guy. And he doesn't like to meet people when they're bleeding." She raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back to Lizae. "What do you think?"

The other woman smirked, striding over to Aukai and poking him in the chest. "He's a piss-awful patient and a child, but it all depends on him."

There was a flash of dread at the touch of the doctor, but then it was replaced by eager determination. He looked at Lizae and Alyx in turn. "Whatever it takes."

A feral grin captured her lips, instilling a thread of fear into him. "Good boy." She stood, stretching her fingers in front of her. "I have a pesky visitor to cater to, so you stay here and rest." She left the tiny apartment with a smile on her face, anticipating the visit to East Nether. It was a place that kept her on her toes, that challenged her, and she liked that.

Raking a hand through her hair, she sighed at the thought of person who challenged her, and made her way up to join her gang.

Jax | The Neath | Tuesday Night

Jax had come back to his place after his talk with Alyx. Zander had been waiting for him in the main living area. The teen's face showed his impatience, and his arms were crossed over his chest. "Finally," he sighed.

Moving past him, Jax flopped down onto the couch between the Cramer twins and Terra. Dean and Cas instantly crawled over to Jax and started climbing on him. "Play with us!" they said.

Jax smiled, this one genuine. He loved these kids and the fact that they saw him as an older brother. While Jax pretended to wrestle with the boys, he glanced over at Terra beside him. She had just turned 14, only 2 years younger than Zander, but she was much more mature than the rest. She helped feed everyone and keep the place clean. The kids needed a mother and she filled in nicely.

The twins had managed to get Jax onto the floor, so that they could double team him. Dean had was straddling Jax's chest while Cas had managed to wrap around his legs. "Aww, you pinned me! Good job guys, I give."

"Yeah!" The boys jumped up and high fived each other. They wanted to be fighters just like Jax, but they had at least anoher eight years before they could start officially fighting. Having lost their parents when they were four, Jax found them in a box in an alley trying to stay dry from the rain that was pouring down. It had been three years since he'd found them.

Jax relaxed on the floor where he lay, putting his hands back behind his head for support. He looked over at Terra, who was still sitting on the couch. "How are things Terra?"

Putting the book down that she had been reading, she met his gaze. "Things are well, Jax. Dinner won't be long now." She returned to reading.

Jax continued to stare at her. He knew that she was mature, but this was unusual for her. Typically she would be trying to talk to him about what the kids had done that day. "What's wrong Terra? And don't give me a bullshit answer."

Her mouth opened and closed as if trying to figure out something to tell him. "N-nothing is wrong. I'm just tired."

"Uh-huh likely excuse, but I'll let you off for now. We will have a talk tomorrow though." He pointed at her to make sure she knew he was serious. She nodded and then quickly stood and made her way to the kitchen.

Zander made a small sound and then walked over to Jax, extending a hand to help him up. Jax took the proffered hand and stood. "What?"

Zander just shook his head and waved his hand for Jax to follow him. He lead Jax to the kids' rooms.

Jax poked his head into both rooms and saw nothing wrong. "Okay...what are you trying to tell me?"

Zander pointed at the beds, "We been missing a few. For about five days now, to be exact."

He thought about what Zander just said. Some of the kids would go out and come back in a day or so, but never this long. There was something wrong. "Who are we missing?"

"Hendrix and Willa for now. Thad hasn't been here since yesterday morning." Zander was in charge of things when Jax wasn't around. He had a way with the machines and software that amazed Jax. He had negotiated with his boss to allow Zander to do all the tech from his apartment, so he didn't have to go out onto the streets. Zander was slim for most guys his age, his arms and legs just slightly too long for his body. Jax hoped the boy would start to fill out soon or he would have to start training him. Jax couldn't afford to lose him.

"Alright, I will see if I can find anything out. For now, no one goes out."

Zander nodded and turned to go to his room, putting his noise canceling headphones on.

Wednesday Morning

Jax awoke to a pair of eyes staring at him from the side of the bed. "Gah! Giggles, I thought I told you not to come into my room anymore."

The eyes crinkled and the sound of a tiny high pitch giggle reached his ears. Jax reached over and gripped the little girl by her sides and lifted her over him. "Is that all you do still? All I ever hear is that giggle!"

The giggle got louder and the little girl squirmed in Jax's arms. Jax sighed and put Giggles down. The little girl ran from the room, giggling still. That girl always brightens my day.

Throwing the sheet to one side, Jax got out of bed and started to get ready for the day. He was going to have to investigate into the kids disappearing, and there was one place he had to check out.