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Prince Adeyemi · (06-16-2023)

…Curious.

They’d fought together on the streets of Japan, well the bank. They’d stolen a Mecha from some un-teen teens.

I think they’d killed some people together.

They’d even won War Games together.

He SHOULD feel something towards them, shouldn’t he? Comrades in arms. Tag team, the dream team.

Yet all Isaiah could do when he thought of Flynn, Kaye & Crash… Was disgust.

Sure the G00D-B01’s WON War Games as a team, but fat help he’d been.

Tapped out in the first round - saved by Ned from crashing out even earlier than he already had.

TAPPED OUT.

Isaiah King doesn’t tap out. But whoever this was, whoever this broken shell of a man was - he certainly does.

An Isaiah King that lost his belt to Dionysus, that could barely keep his head above the water at big boys table.

Nowhere on the level of Mark Flynn, Ned Kaye, Bobby Bourbon and Sidney Grey.

A midcarder, at best.

And so, as he ran down the ramp, raised the hands of his comrades as the fanfare came down, all he could feel was disgust and the creeping sense of… Stagnation.

Wargames be damned - Isaiah King will not stagnate.

King slipped out of the Tokyodome quickly, his paid job was done - but his mission hardly. He was meant to find “Kurasshu”... Who he realised was Crash Rodrigeuz himself. Why had Jeremiah set him up to find his Wargames teammate? Having slaughtered half a dozen Yakuza with his own hands, how was he meant to find out where Chae was?

The last he saw her - she was strapped to an explosive chair in NEW YORK CITY. When he’d gotten checked into a flight - he found out she would be held hostage by the Yakuza, no longer in New York… Jeremiah’s sick way of motivating Isaiah more. Something about the bait needing to be close enough to tantalize but far enough to infuriate.

Isaiah could see that idiot’s face, leering at him over an obnoxious pair of shades.

[Image: isaiah-swerve-scott-entrance.gif]

[Image: isaiah-swerve-scott-entrance.gif]

Ezekiel met him by the doors, bike already revv’d up and ready to go. Isaiah still in his wrestling tights and a light leather jacket ontop of a bare torso.

“...Congrats King - where to.” The man was curt and focused as always, patting Isaiah and on the back and waiting for Isaiah to hop behind him.

Isaiah should thank him for his unwavering trust - the last time they’d walked right into a bank, blown it up and fought a dozen Yakuza with swords. Ezekiel was a good friend.

“You can congratulate Mark Flynn when you see him next.” His voice is just as curt, brain working at a million miles trying to figure out how exactly to approach his next lead.

Reaching into his pocket, Isaiah pulls a charred card out of his pocket. A business card in Japanese.

“...Tojo Family House - Roppongi.” Ezekiel only grunts in response, slipping into his helmet and easing the bike off it’s kickstand.

One of the sword-wielding yakuza had dropped this, and Isaiah’s instincts had made him pick it up before they made away from the bank. With the witnesses to his “betrayal” all… Dead - he could spin the story however he wanted to… He hoped.

As the bike cuts through the Tokyo traffic, Isaiah’s eyes trace the skyline - it was beautiful, bright and… Excessive.

The Japanese sure were a paradox of reservation and exuberance.

INTERMISSION BREAK.

Pixels.

8 bit?

16? I think this is 16 - Who knows.

[Image: da9c9vu-afa0c3f9-dd0d-4595-a513-62da3baf...hoZxOxgHXA]

A comical figure, dressed in over-the-top metal “cloths” as the anime weebs would call it, is seen gyrating and channelling his inner chi, chakra, life-force or rather.

The small figure has a lion emblazoned on his helmet and chest, anywhere that one would fit it seems.

From behind him comes a demure woman, dressed to the t’s in a kimono. She strokes his back lovingly.

A rectangle text box appears above her head.

“There there, my young lion, you’re almost there. Focus for me.” She coos at him.

The tiny pixel Saint of Seiya's eyes glow with energy, little spurts of power escaping from his body and dissipating into the air around him.

"Thaaaats it baby, roar my little lion, roar!" Her patting and stroking grows more intense.

Our tiny valiant warrior bends at the knees and lets out the most emphatic squeak as he releases a torrent of bodily gasses.

I mean…

…He farts.

The woman frowns, glancing at his behind, shakes her head and forces a smile back on her face.

"G-good job Kid. Oh just some gas again, let's try once more later?" She says through thin lips.

[Image: rush-swope-front.gif?1616500557]

Ezekiel lets out a large burp that vibrates through bar, over the subtle city pop playing in the background.

Isaiah is standing with his back to the bartop, leaning against it and surveying the crowd.

In his hand, the old Isaiah plays with the calling card, turning it over his knuckles over and over and over again. Jer always had a knack for theatrics.

A villain.

As the thought slips through his mind, a curious man walks through some curtains into his line of sight.

He looks straight out of the 1900s with his tuxedo suit, pressed white frilled shirt and coattails. His hands are covered in white gloves. A… butler?

The man glances up at Isaiah, his eyes oddly narrowed and cat-like. He smirks. Isaiah’s skin crawls.

Isaiah goes to approach him just as the man beelines for him as well.

“Good evening sir, Mr King, I presume?”

The heavily accented Japanese mixed with the posh English throws Isaiah off.

“Uh, yes. Mr.. Tojo?”

The man bows dramatically, one hand sweeping across his body and extending to his side.

“At your service, I’m surprised you found me… Us.”

He raises an eyebrow, pupil quickly jumping to a few of the better-dressed men in the room. Isaiah brings the charred calling card to his palm with a flourish.

Those years of street hustling had come in handy. Mr. Tojo’s eye raises even higher.

“I’m even more surprised that you’d show yourself here, after that… foolishness at the bank.”

“Uh, yes, your mission was a failure, that wasn’t my fault.”

Tojo tilts his head a little menacingly.

“You don’t expect me to believe that, Mr King. When you two are the only ones to have come out of it… Alive or unarrested.”

Unarrested. That meant some of them were still alive… Not good.

Isaiah can only hope Tojo didn’t pick up on his discomfort.

“With all due respect, Tojo-san, your people’s failure, is not my fault. I still want my girlfriend back.”

A steely glare flashes across Tojo’s face before he composes himself once more - anger replaced with a smirk.

He really did feel like an anime character.

“Ah yes, Ms. Kim. Chae you call her. Why would we release her? Why shouldn’t we skin you two alive just to figure out what went down this weekend.”

The way he was able to say that through a clenched smile was terrifying.

“We’re meant to establish some kind of… Partnership. The fact that Ezekiel and I are standing here, while your guys are not…? That’s reason enough to work with us. We’re clearly of a different class. What else must we provet?”

“Whether I can trust you or not.”

Ezekiel finally turns to look over his shoulder, glaring down Tojo.

“We going to play nice, Iz?”

“Are you threa-”

“Do you feel threatened?”

“By you? You spineless, thieving, back-stabbing…”

“If your men weren’t such weak…”

“MY BROTHER WAS NOT WEAK”

“Looks like it runs in the family-”

“-We just want to speak as equals.”

“HAH, equals…. Gaijin.”

King squares himself up, inching a little closer to Tojo. The air is tense.

The bartender cracks a bottle open.

He sighs.

…. As all hell breaks loose.

[Image: bar-brawl.gif]

The shwing of blades being drawn, the scrapping of a bat against the floor, the guttural yelling of Japanese gangsters and the grunts of New York scoundrels.

[Image: giphy.gif]

The bar goes silent, except for the ring. Wallphones didn’t often… ring these days.

The bartender walks over to the phone, picks it up and speaks into it in Japanese. Someone responds.

The phone clicks back on the wall.

“Mr Kingpin says we must “play naisu”, not fight.”

”Kingpin? HAH. Damn comicbook nerd.”

The King wasn’t lost on Isaiah.

Tojo curses under his breath, and straightens himself, pulling the switchblade in his hand back to his side.

”If he demands it.”

“...What must I do, to get my girlfriend back from your… Hands.”

Tojo thinks - as a henchman whispers something into his ear.

“There is one thing - particularly suited to your barbaric tendencies.”

Ezekiel snorts.

“Oh? What might that be?”

Tojo speaks rapidly in Japanese to a man next to him. A round of gasps and snickers travel through the crowd.

“There is a problematic Lion that needs slaying.”

Somethings not quite right.

I’m hardly a King.

Each time I get the chance - I drop it from some distraction, some unfortunate circumstances.

Perhaps hoping for kingship… Is the wrong angle.

And I think you can set me straight.

The roaring lion of the XWF.

The Apex Predator.

…Is that what Riley calls you?

Her valiant Lion, the very best that XWF has to offer?

With that shiny bit of gold around his waist…

Is that what she called you as you skipped past Flynn and Bourbon to yank it out of Sidney’s hands?

Is that what she whispers as you’ve hidden in the shadows and licked your battle wounds?

Is that how she comforted you as your own stablemate passed you up for Mark Flynn. Where’s SAGA?

And when you did end up with a team - what did you accomplish?

How did you help?

You were just surplus, Kido.

Flynn wasn’t even captain and he carried us to victory. You’re the Universal Champion and you held your team down.

Does your roar come with a bite…?

You held on to the briefcase for a whole year - letting your anxieties creep up on you, questioning whether you’re worth another title run.

And yes - you’ve got yourself that… But maybe you should’ve listened to your anxieties.

Rumor has it - some real monsters are gunning for that belt.

Hell, Ned Kaye, Flynn, Corey Smith clearly deserve a shot.

Can you really stay on top, kitty cat?

Does your roar come with a bite…?

…Or are you just full of gas?

And thats where my redemption arc shall began.

Instead of gunning for gold - I should’ve been gunning for heads.

Not claiming to be King, or the Heir Apparent -

But the Kingslayer.

The Lion Tamer.

Once I’ve done what you’ve failed to do - once I’ve fought and beat the monsters…

Then I’ll take your gold.

And you - my dear Raion, get to be first.

Gold or not.

Next week, you will lose your head to my ambition.

<2K

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