Kid's R Us Orbitas

Drip.

I lift a hand up to my forehead and pull it back. There's crimson over my palm and fingers.

Drip.

I look at my stomach and there's a hole in the middle. My fingertips trace along the crimson edge and it tickles.

Drip.

I feel like someone is watching me and turn my gaze towards the sky. There's a bright red light, far beyond my reach.

Drip.


I blink and it seems to get redder. Soon enough my vision is filled with nothing but the color of red, unable to discern anything else.

Drip.


A drop of black spills into the center. It spreads outwards, engulfing the color of red.


Drip.

Now all I see is the color of death. I have lost everything and yet I feel nothing.


...

The dripping stops. The darkness retracts from my vision.

...

And then the red. I open my eyes and a pool of water as clear as the sky surrounds me.

...

But the red light is still there. I gaze upon it and the dripping returns.

Drip.

I'm dying again.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

...

"WAKE UP!"

Something hits me hard on the head and I cry out with indiscernible words while trying to shield my face. I hear a loud voice say, "Get a hold o' yerself! With all o' this fuss ye be makin', 'twon't take much 'fore we keel over!"

I rub the last of my sleep out of my eyes before replying, "What the fuck did you hit me with?"

He lifts his oar up with a smug grin. Not funny. I tell him, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your ass."

With only a hint of regret in his voice he says, "Don't be blamin' me now. Ye were the one tossin' and turnin'. We'd've been feedin' the fishes right 'bout now if 'tweren't for me timely intervention."

"Fuck...fine, I get it," I say while rubbing my forehead. When I bring my fingers back down, I can see blood and the sight of it sends my nightmare rushing back.

The image causes cold shivers to dance along my back, but I put contemplation aside for now and bitterly say, "You didn't have to hit me so damn hard; I'm fucking bleeding now."

"Och, come off it. 'Twas barely a tap; take a good look at me! Nothin' but an old man 'ere!" he laughs.

I shoot back, "Heh, yea, with arms the size of cannonballs. The body hasn't gone, but the mind certainly has."

"Hah! Ye sure know 'ow t' make a sailor blush, er, what'd ye say yer name was 'gain?" he asks.

With a shrug I reply, "It's Finnigan. And thanks for proving my point, [i]Captain Willshire[/i], or did you forget that, too?"

"Oho! So the kid's got more than just bad temper! Well, like me mother used t' 'ways say, 'Nothin' that can't be solved with a good hit t' the head!'" he jokes, while raising his oar again for emphasis. I try not to laugh but it pours out regardless and he joins in as well.

When we've finished amusing ourselves, he tosses me a box with a red cross on it while saying, "Patch yerself up with this."

I open it and find only a few bandaids. I scoff, "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Better than nothin'," he replies with an offhanded shrug. I sigh before grabbing his bottle of vodka.

It feels all too sweet to see him immediately cry out, "Woah, there! Yer messing with me baby!"

Before he can do anything else, I've already poured some of it out onto a piece of cloth. He's reaching for my neck when I toss him back his alcohol which he hurriedly rushes to catch. With the dampened cloth, I press it onto my forehead and ignore the stinging pain. I get myself cleaned up before applying the bandaid, smirking the whole time. While giving me the evil eye he says in a threatening voice, "Why I oughta...!"

"Stop your sulking, I'll buy you a glass when we're there," I say before things get too serious. He's satisfied with that and proceeds to continue rowing.

"How much further?" I can't help asking.

He responds, "Look fer yerself."

I look out of the small rowboat for the first time and see the sandy coastline not too far off. I contentedly make the sound, "Mmn."

I ease myself back down onto the seats once more and stare up at the clouds lazily drifting by while dangling one arm outside the boat. My fingertips brush against the water, feeling cold to the touch. Suddenly I feel something hard touch my fingers. It slides under my hand in a smooth motion before I can even finish getting up. I look out the boat and see gray triangles jutting out of the water moving freely in circles among the waves.

We switch two more times before the dolphins finally leave as we arrive on the shore of Millennia. The boat heavily buries itself into the sand where we both jump out.

"Finally! Free from that prison you call a boat!" I joyously exclaim while stretching and taking a deep breath of something other than sea breeze for the first time in a day.

"Ye best not be talkin' 'bout the S.S. Horizon!" he exclaims.

I don't give him any notice, too busy basking in my bliss.

"Och, enough o' the lollygagging and help me with this," he gruffs out.

I look back at him getting ready to lift the boat. I quizzically ask, "We're taking the boat with us?"

He shakes his head, "No, we be hidin' it."

"Where?"

"There be a small cave in the forest."

A groan rises up in my chest, but I hold it back and instead I jab, "The more time we waste here, the less time we're drinking."

"Och, don't remind me! Get yer ass movin'!" he barks. I reluctantly comply and we both heft the [i]S.S. Horizon[/i] onto our shoulders before marching our way towards a nearby forest. It's actually more of a jungle, really, the whole hot and humid affair. Thick, green foliage jut out from under us along with vines and roots, making the trek much more difficult. I ask, "How do you know where we're going?"

"I know the path by heart."

"So is this a secret cave or something?"

"Pretty much."

"So where's the city?"

"We'll be there in less than a day, don't ye worry."

I stop asking questions in the meantime and we walk in silence. We pass several trees that all look the same to me. Eventually we walk out of the jungle and right in front of us is a mountain.

"What."

"The cave be right up 'head."

He takes us to the base of the mountain where after a small incline we arrive at...a wall of rock.

"Put it down for a 'sec," he says. I help him heave the boat onto the ground. I hold it to make sure it doesn't fall away as I watch him bend over and reach for a rock on the ground. He turns it clockwise and suddenly the earth below us starts to shake a little. I look back at the wall of rock to see it sliding open. Well, he did say it was a secret cave. We pick the boat back up before going inside. It's just a small, dark, and gray circular cave. It appears to be free of stalagmites and stalactites so this is at least partially man-made.


"Put it down right 'ere."

We put it down near the entrance and he pulls some tarp over it, hiding it from plain view. So I finally decide to ask, "What the hell is this cave and why are we doing this?"

"Secret cave and I got enemies, that be all ye need to know," he says while picking up a piece of wood and lighting it. He continues, "This be the final leg of our journey, don't ye worry."

He walks over to the far end of the cave while holding the torch and steps onto some sort of trigger in the cave floor, opening up another passageway and closing the one behind us. He walks in and I follow him. It's barely wide enough for the two of us so I stay behind him, his torch being our only source of illumination. We walk in silence for about two hours, just in a straight line, before finally arriving at a spiral staircase. He doesn't pause and continues onwards, climbing up the steps. I get on the staircase and then realize it goes down as well.

"Ye don't want t' be goin' down, lad. Up be where we goin'."

I give the bottom of the staircase one more glance before following Willshire upwards. After about seven flights we reach the ceiling. He pushes it and a part of the ceiling makes a circular indentation as it slides up. He then turns it counter-clockwise and finishes pushing it up all the way. Light. Sunshine pours through the hole and he puts out the torch before pulling himself out of the hole. I follow him and we end up in another jungle and next to the mountain again, presumably on the other side.

"Well, that's pretty neat," I remark. Willshire seals up the hole again and says, "Ain't no mountain high 'nough...if ye just go under it."

"That's a good point and there's a lesson to be learned there, but now where do we go?"

"The main path be just a stone's throw 'way. Right o'er there."

I look towards where he's pointing and sure enough past the trees and foliage I can make out what appears to be a road. We have no reason to stick around so we continue on our merry way along the path towards our destination. Half an hour later we're at the gates of New Millennium City.


Full, thick, concrete walls three times as tall as me make up the entire perimeter. The walls seem to stretch on for miles, with various guard posts dotted along the barricade. The gate itself is steel with reinforced titanium alloy. Impressed, I whistle while a guard walks up to us.

"Identification?" a soldier stiffly asks.

We present to him the necessary paperwork and after a brief pause, he waves us in, "Enjoy your stay at New Millennium City, Mr. Finnigan. And welcome back, Willshire, sir."

The gate slides open just enough to let us pass through. What greets me is a breathtaking view of a big and bustling city with people as far as the eye can see. The streets are wide and is generally made of dirt but roads of yellow stone tiles are paved over it. Shopkeepers and peddlers in open-air stands hawking their wares and people walking about dressed in tunics and trousers. Meanwhile I'm in a suit and trenchcoat. Before we can take another step, we're jumped by an androgynous clown dressed in velvet and bells.

"Welcome to New Millennium City! If you're looking for work, fun, or escape, look no further! A land of o-Oh, teehee, welcome back, Willshire, teehee!" the clown snickers before running away.

"You people hired [i]that[/i] to greet your visitors?" I ask.

Willshire leads the way while shaking his head, "No, Shakespeare just does it of his own accord".

"Shakespeare? And you haven't stopped him?"


"The clown be as slippery as an eel! I've told 'im if I 'ver lay my hands on the wretch, he'll be swimmin' with the fishes! O' course, that only gave 'im 'ore 'eason to stay 'way from me, heh. Forget 'im, let's just head t' the pub!".

He slaps me on the back and we continue on our way towards the promise of booze and merrymaking. As we walk along, random pedestrians greet him with, "Good to have you back, Willshire!" and "Stay awhile this time, eh, Willshire?"

We move through the hustle and bustle while the old geezer waves back to each of his greeters.

"Good t' see ye 'gain, Nick!" and "Ye been keepin' out o' trouble, Bill?" he'd say.

The city looks clean, but a bit backwater. It seems we're moving through the shabbier part of town but closer to the center, I can see towering skyscrapers of steel. At least the streets here are decently paved.

The old geezer finally stops at what I presume is the pub and also inn. A sign hanging from the top says, "The Heartstruck Siren."

'Nice name,' I remark to myself. We push past the double doors and walk over to the counter.

"One room fer the lad and give 'im a discount, would ye?" Willshire says.

The barkeep is a finely dressed man with a fairly groomed hairdo and mustache. He nods before speaking, "Yes, sir. That will be €30 for one night of room and board."

I pay him the money and he gives me the room key. Willshire considers our business there done and proceeds to take me to one of the tables saying, "Ye better keep yer promises, boy!"

An hour later and we're drunk off our asses. Another hour later and it's dusk and the place is packed. People keep coming up to Willshire and sharing drinks with him, so eventually I ask him, "Hey, what's the deal with you and this town?"

"Din't I tell ye?! I be the mayor o' this town!" he shouts over the rest of the merrymakers.

It takes a second for me to gather my thoughts before exclaiming, "What?! You, a fat old geezer?!"

"Och! Them be fighting words, laddie! Ye ready for this 'fat old geezer' t' teach ye a lesson!?" he shouts while jumping up and slamming his fist on the table.

I grimace, 'Shiiiet, me and my fucking mouth."

Somewhere along the way, the rest of the pub got reaaaaal quiet-like.

1. Apologize

I quickly muster up every ounce of sanity and clearheadedness I have left and produce my magnum opus, "I didn't mean it like that! I meant it like, you know, fat as in a sign of great wealth, and old as in wise, and geezer as in, uh, a delicate flower. Your stature and physique clearly showcases your opulence and powerful acumen all while the man himself is a kind, gentle, and just mayor, like the gardener among his fields in the Spring, which is also, you know, full of youth. Which you so very much have."

What the fuck did I even just say. Too late now. All I can do is wait and see. Speaking of which, all eyes are on me and my eyes are on Willshire, who's just blankly staring at me. A few seconds pass, and then he bursts out into a huge grin while laughing, "HARHARHARHARHAR! THE LAD HAS A WAY WITH WORDS, I TELL YE!"

He reaches over and smacks me on the shoulder hard a couple times. I put on my best smile and simply respond, "Nothing but the truth escapes these lips, Mr. Willshire. That and bad ale."

He bursts into laughter anew and goes back to his drinking. Meanwhile, I slip away and decide to lay low at the bar. I take a seat while keeping my head down and think to myself, 'Guess it's true what they say about the truth setting you free. Pfft, yea right.'

I notice the rest of the seats are empty so I say out loud, "Guess it's just you and me, huh? One Dirty Black Russian, please."

"Don't you think you've had enough for one night?"

My ears pick up that the owner of the voice is female. I look up and see an auburn-haired woman with green eyes and light skin and a smile on her face. Then I sigh and say, "You're gonna make it for me or what?"

"Coming right up, sir. And it's on the house," she says as she takes out a glass and puts ice in it.

Surprised, I ask, "So that makes you...?"

She pours vodka while talking, "The owner of this fine establishment, the Heartstruck Siren. I like what you did there. That's what I call real courage."

I smile and rest my head on one hand while saying, "Heh. I can see how it can be seen that way. Doesn't change the fact that I plan on forgetting tonight."

She sets the bottle of vodka down on the table and starts pouring in cola. She says, "Then I guess I shouldn't bother telling you my name?"

"Nope. But I'll tell you mine anyways. It's Finnigan."

She sets the cola down and starts to slowly stir the cocktail. She says, "Nice to meet you, Finnigan. I'm Janet."

I wait for her to finish before scooping up the glass and drinking it down in one draught. I let out a deep breath afterwards before grabbing the bottle of vodka and getting up to leave. "Sorry, not gonna remember that."

Go to Screw them.

2. Take him on
I stand up, wobble a bit, and slam my fist down on the table as well, "You're fuckin' on, old geezer!"

A roar of cheers and applause rises up. Voices shouting and yelling, "Go easy on the kid, Willshire!" and "Don't make too much of a mess, Willshire!"

An auburn-haired woman walks up to me and quickly whispers, "Hey, kid, if you're gonna make trouble, take it outside. Don't like it? I've got people to do the 'fist-talking' for me."

1. Fuck off

I turn around a sputter out, "Geez, lady, whoever put the stick up yer ass, it sure as fuck wasn't me."

2. Make nice
I turn around and sputter out, "Gee, lady, you sure are pretty."

This, of course, earns me a glare and a resounding slap. She then stalks over to some burly-looking men and whispers a few words into their ears earning me their dark gaze. I can feel a tear leaking out of my eye as I rub where she hit me. It's certainly sobered me up a bit. I turn back to Willshire and gesture for him to follow me. Willshire and I stomp out into the cool night air with the crowd of enthusiastic onlookers following right behind us, hooting and cheering all the while.

"Get him, Willshire!" and "Teach it to him real good, Willshire!" comes from all directions as the crowd makes a circle around us. Three of them even take off his shirt, wet his face, and then dry it. I mutter out the words, "Home advantage, fuckin' shit."

The sound of my own voice gets lost in the screaming and cheering of the crowd. I grimly take off my shirt and start warming up while watching the old geezer closely, looking for any weaknesses until a shout, a bell, a crash, or whatever triggers the start of the fight and Willshire charges at me, his cannonball arms and head at the front. Just as he's about to make contact, I try to grab hold of him and throw him to the side but he just shrugs me off and lifts me before slamming me back down onto the ground. The wind gets knocked out of my lungs as I hit the cold hard floor and my eyes roll back.

'Fuckin' shit! He's gonna fuckin' kill me!'

I will myself to focus before shooting my feet into his pudgy stomach. It sends him back a bit, but he regains his balance soon enough. That hurt him but he's far from down. I get back on my feet, calculating my next move. He's got muscle underneath all those rolls of fat and it seems his legs are pretty sturdy too.

'Have to be, to carry that fat gut around all the time...'

Before I can figure out a way to take him down, he comes at me again with his arms coiled. I reflexively sway under his first swing, deflect his second swing to my left, and spin around backfisting the side of his head. I break away and quickly put distance between the two of us again.

'He's got no guard and he's slow, but that fat of his makes it hard to grapple him.'

Suddenly, inspiration hits me and I whisper to no one in particular, "Ain't no mountain high enough if you just go under it."

I open my guard wide and beckon him to come, taunting him. He yells his guttural battle-cry before charging at me once more. I quickly duck underneath and slide between his legs, kicking him on the rump as he passes over. He stumbles and falls and as he picks himself up to turn around, I'm already swinging my arms.

I slam the ends of both my palms into his temples, sending him reeling back. He throws a wild swing which I dodge following up with a left hook to his jaw. He swings with his other arm, but it's on unsteady legs so I block it outright and throw another left hook to the same place. He falters and drops to one knee. I smirk inwardly, 'Time to finish it.'

1. Double elbow drop to the head

I raise both my arms above my head and jump towards him. I let gravity take it's course and use my weight to drop down hard through my elbows and onto his head. It makes a satisfying thud and he falls over forward, limp. Blood starts to leak out of his mouth.

2. Knee bash

I wrap my hands behind his head and proceed to slam my knee into his face. There's a sickening crunch as I break his nose and blood spurts out. I let go and he falls over backwards, limp. I didn't hit him as hard as I could have, so he won't need to see a doctor or anything.

3. Uppercut

I take one step and propel myself forward using the momentum to swing my fist upward before smashing it into his jaw. It's a perfect hit and he even flies back a little, landing on his back. Even if he's conscious he won't be able to stand.

The crowd is almost eerily silent. They probably weren't expecting this. Not enough blood for their liking. From me, that is.
Willshire coughs up some more blood and rolls over before propping himself up. He gets to one leg and then another, before falling over again.

1. Help him up

"Come on, you old goat, get your ass up," I say before offering my hand to help him up. He looks at my hand, then at me, straight in the eye. Our staring contest seems to last for minutes until he reaches over and clasps both his hands over my wrist. I have to hold him with both hands but I manage to lift the old geezer up onto his feet. I swing his arm over my shoulder and hurriedly shout, "Help, dammit! I've only got two legs!"
No one comes to help and expectantly, I fall under the old geezer's weight. At the last second, however, he steadies himself and stands on his own while I fall to the ground. The crowd then erupts into cheers, taking that as Willshire's victory. Willshire drunkenly raises his arms along with them and they promptly make their merry way back into the bar, leaving me on my rump, bewildered.

'That's the biggest steaming pile of bullshit I've ever-! Fuck that shit!' I mentally cry out. I pick myself up while fuming. I have half a mind to go back in there and beat the shit out of all of them! I take a random bottle of beer and start chugging it down.

2. Nab a bottle from a nearby bystander.

I snatch a bottle of beer from a random onlooker and he barely even notices. I take one drink before saying, "Looks like I win, old man."

He glances up at me from the ground and faintly says, "You..."

He doesn't get to finish before he passes out. Then, the rest of the crowd starts to quietly walk over to Willshire's fallen figure and begin carrying him back inside. Just before the last one heads inside, he looks back and says to me, "You're a real ass, you know that?"

1. Beat the shit out of them

Wow. I don't think I've ever been this mad before. I'm actually seeing red right now. I immediately storm back inside and grab the first shoulder I see, swing it around and throw a punch straight at the person's face. He drops quick. One of them shouts at me and I proceed to kick him in the stomach, sending him flying back into two other people. By now, they've all noticed me and are charging straight at me.

I quickly spin and back-kick the closest one, kick the second one's face in, and stomp the third one's head to the floor. Suddenly, someone grabs me from behind and puts me in an elbow-and-head-lock. Must be one of those burly-looking men from before. One of Willshire's supporters manages to get close enough to land a punch on my stomach. As he's about to punch me again, I quickly lift off with my feet and step on his fist and face. I push off of him, throwing him to the floor, and flip upside down in the air and dropping my knees down on the head of the guy behind me.

He lets go and I land on my feet. I proceed to head back into the fray. As they rush at me, I throw out my fists and elbows as fast as lightning, knocking several of them unconscious and bleeding. Someone manages to throw a stool at my head and it breaks against my skull. Blood is pouring from my head now. That doesn't stop me. I continue my rampage until only about five of them are left standing. Four of them are cowering in a corner or near the wall. The last one is the auburn-haired woman from before. She's standing defiantly in front of me, her eyes burning up with clear hatred. She hadn't done anything until now. I've lost the use of my right arm and I'm bleeding everywhere. She starts to talk, "I hope you see what you've done to this place."

"They wanted an ass, I gave them an ass."

She looks like she's about to say something, but then swallows those words. Then she says, "So you know exactly what you're doing."

"I'm assuming you're the owner of this

2. Screw them
'Fuck those guys.'

I take off to find a random alley to cool off. I drunkenly mumble to myself, "Fuckin' shit... I can kick all of their asses..."

Something metal rattles. I quickly look up and notice a shadow climbing over a nearby fence. The shadow's moving nimbly and quite acrobatically. I think to myself, 'What a fuckin' show-off...'

Looking closer, the shadow seems to be a man. Regardless, he picked the wrong person to stumble onto in the middle of the night. I'm way too pissed off and he's suspicious-looking no matter how you look at it. I move to intercept him and aim a low kick as he lands but he reacts at the last second and vaults over me by pushing off my outstretched leg. As he's in mid-air, however, I use the momentum from his push to spin on my back and throw out another kick at him, but that gets blocked. Fortunately, it keeps him on the side with the fence. He glares at me but doesn't waste any words and attacks. We trade blow for blow and he almost manages to get away only for me to pin him to the ground.

"Why?! Why are you doing this?!" he screams at me.

"Who're you running from!?" I reply.

He looks up at me with a wide-eyed stare before slowly starting, "You...you're not from here, are you? I've never seen your face before... Please, please, help me! There's some bad people and they want to hurt me! Please, I haven't done anything wrong! Help me, please!"

Choice Believe him, don't believe him

Suddenly I hear a voice shout, "He's over there!"

I look down at the terrified figure below me who turns out to be just a boy. I nod, "Yea, I gotcha."

I lift him up and open up my trench coat, whispering, "Get behind me."

He does as I say and I close the trench coat, wrapping it as tight as possible around my body while snatching up a bottle and pressing my back along with him up against the wall. I don the posture of a drunkard, leisurely taking swigs from an already empty bottle. Two other shadows are already at the fence and are climbing over it. They see me and immediately walk up to me before smacking the bottle I'm holding up to my lips into pieces.

"Filth like you make me sick, rotting here in this dirty alley! Why don't you stop drinking for once in your life?!" one of the men screams. The other one coldly says, "Open up your coat. Now."

I slowly and calmly open up my coat while pretending to sway drunkenly, in actuality trying to cover the kid as much as possible with my frame. Suddenly, the man who screamed at me kicks me in the stomach while shouting, "Cover yourself! We don't want to see that shit!"

I bend over in pain while closing my coat, holding my gut. They promptly leave while talking to each other, "Leave this garbage to rot."

When they're gone, I let the kid out and slowly sit down. That kick hit me hard. I make a small groan while wondering what I did to deserve that. Then I remember the kid. I look up to see him staring at me and I ask, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

He responds, "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Guess it won't kill me," I reply.

Choices - Who are you? Why were you they chasing you?

"My name's Chris. I'm not from here. I don't belong here. That's all you need to know," he answers while warily staring straight at my eyes.

"Listen, it's something you're better off not knowing about. You should just pack up and get out of town while you still can. Everyone here's rotten to the core and you can either be their plaything or get away. Guess which one I'm choosing," he replies coolly.

Choice - Let him go, Don't let him go

"I'm out of time. Just heed my warning, it's all I can do for you right now, er,"

"Finnigan."

"Heed my warning, Finnigan. Please."

"Yea, I'll keep it in mind, Chris."

He gives me one last, long look before taking off into the night. What a weird kid. The people here can't be that bad. Can they?

I clean myself up before making my way back to the Heartstruck Siren and retiring for the night, avoiding the still-partying crowd.