Day 42: Bill's Hardware (Afternoon)
The air had been even brisker for the walk from the restaurant to the store. Keeping up with his taller friend's longer strides had Armand breathless when they arrived. The exertion made him want to take off the heavy coat in the warmer indoors air, but he didn't want to carry or lose it.. As for the store itself, he was both fascinated and
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Sechs left the Tasty Burger with a chaotic heap of emotions swirling inside his head. He felt resolute on finding the purple-haired individual named 'Trunks', while the memory of Kibitoshin's enraptured grin over Sechs' agreement to help find his friend left the Replica feeling a tad satisfied with himself. However, that warm emotion was overshadowed by Sechs' bewilderment over his bizarre reaction to Kibitoshin's concern. It left him feeling mortified and furious with himself. Sechs didn't know what to feel. If only he had some book on this sort of issue... "Human Bodies for Cyborg Dummies: What to Expect and How to Deal with it." A book like that would beat risking the humiliation of asking someone else about what happened...
With the weather warming up somewhat, Sechs halfway unzipped his hoodie as he aimlessly trudged through the town. With an aloof frown on his face, Sechs' eyes rapidly scanned his surroundings: No sign of any purple hair yet, nor did he find anyone or anything familiar to his origins. The cleanliness and peaceful nature of the town still rattled the Replica. He was definitely far away from the Scrapyard...
Just when Sechs was about to consider sulking by the same pond again, he caught sight of a sign proclaiming the words: "Bill's Hardware". The Replica paused. Hardware? Like the stuff used to make weapons? Sechs couldn't resist investigating such a possibility...
As soon as Sechs loudly gained entry into the once peaceful store, he instantly made a bee-line for the aisle displaying various sorts of saws and blades. For a moment Sechs forgot about his previous concerns. Taking no notice of anyone else around him, Sechs shuffled into the narrow row of saw-related products. Gazing upon the glittering teeth of the sharp hardware brought a small smile to Sechs' lips. If only he had one for himself here... Hmm... Such tools could easily be made into a make-shift weapon. Maybe if he got that real big hacksaw over there and attached it to the end of a pole with real durable straps or rope...
Sechs took a few steps down the aisle with his eyes fixated on an attractive chainsaw. He was deep within his own pondering of weapons and mayhem when Sechs' vision was suddenly overtaken by a thick grey mass, completely enveloping his head and shoulders like a living trap!
"WHAT THE--!!"
ARGH!!! He was under attack! But by what?! Something grey... Nanomachines! Grey Goo! He was being attacked by Grey Goo--!! Immediately his habitual combat reflexes sent him thrashing within the entanglement of nanobots. Yet his efforts of escape proved to be in vain, for some strands of the vicious nanomachines had weaved themselves into the exposed teeth of his coat's zipper...
Sechs froze. Wait a second... Strands?! This stuff wasn't Grey Goo! It was grey hair!
"THE HELL!?" Sechs' bellow was muffled by the wall of hair. Grasping a fistful of the light locks, Sechs gave them a good tug as he untangled himself from the mass of follicles. His struggle left some torn strands hanging off from his zipper. Once free from the huge grey tufts, Sechs expected to find an overzealous woman who never bothered to trim her hair for the past century to be the owner of the monstrous hairstyle. To Sechs' surprise, he found himself looking slightly up at a man instead.
The unforeseen encounter brought on a second's worth of hesitation from Sechs before he launched his verbal assault. "Watch where you stick that hair of yours!" the frazzled Replica snarled. "Why don't you -- I don't know -- keep it in a bun or something?!"
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He wasn't in the clear when his assailant let go, either. Doing a decent impression of a slightly confused powder keg, Teisel blinked as the slightly smaller man gave him a piece of his mind. For what, exactly, it took Teisel a moment to process, but once he did he was ready to beat the rest of the guy's mind out through his ears. "What?! It's my fault you can't watch where you're walking, eh, you little shit?" he barked, fists clenched and practically quaking with rage. "You have the whole goddamn store to walk in but I have to make way for you? Is that it?" He refrained from adding that his hair was too thick to keep in a bun. It was none of this knucklehead's business and on principle Teisel wasn't obliged to keep his hair tied up for the sake of someone else's convenience.
It took all his limited self control to keep from dropping the guy right then and there, but Teisel wasn't fond of the idea of being cooped up on the bus for the rest of the day. It was a close call, all the same...
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Geeze! This guy was loud! Sechs could practically feel the loose strands of his hair being blown away from his forehead as he was assailed by the bigger man's vocal outrage. His ears rung like they had been hit by a sonic boom! Dammit! Just when his headache was starting to get better...
"Who you calling a little shit?!" Sechs blared back with his left fist raised in a threatening gesture whilst keeping his braced hand behind and out of sight. He leaned in closer to the other man with his head tilted further back, directing his furious glare at the stranger's face instead of his chest.
Now that Sechs' vision wasn't being engulfed in grey hair, he was able to get a better look at who he was dealing with. Damn... Sechs definitely had a tendency to pick fights with big people, didn't he? This guy was just about as tall as Recluse. He wasn't as bulky in the muscle department but his build conveyed telltale signs of an experienced brawler. Was he a cyborg before ending up here too? If he was, Sechs guessed that his hair must have been a weapon of some sort. Perhaps they used to be a mass of mono-molecular wires?
"Like HELL ya gotta make room for me! You big idiot!!" The Replica shouted through gnashing teeth. His fist trembled from the intense urge to give the man a good bash to the chin. "Do you use that hair to strangle people or does it just have a mind of its own?!" If that were the case, Sechs would have been no more than happy to use a set of heavy-duty tree pruners to chop off that damn hair...
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Getting rid of this clown would take more effort, then. Fine. Glaring at the man's threatening fist with undisguised disdain, Teisel took a step forward himself, bumping into him gently, with the implication of a lot less gentleness to follow if the guy didn't wise up. He'd pulled Teisel's hair. His hair. And now he was insulting it. Mentally counting backwards from ten and trying to recall every scolding he'd ever gotten from Tron about controlling his temper, Teisel smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. A lot of practice over the years had gone into getting the right note of sadistic nastiness into it, and folks usually got the message.
"I'm calling you a little shit, you little shit," he ground out, too offended and angry to modulate his voice quite right. That quirk really did crop up at the worst times, but no matter. "And I don't want to get sedated today. So, why don't you just apologize like a good little shit and I'll be the bigger man and forget your stupid ass ever ran into me, eh?" Mother above, all he'd wanted to do was bask in the glow of dangerously sharp metal objects for a few minutes! Was it so much to ask?
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"And I say you're a big dumb idiot with even bigger dumber hair!!" Sechs loudly countered while giving the stranger another sharp poke. "You don't know who you're dealing with, pal!"
A surge of adrenaline advanced through the Replica's system at the sight of the other man's sneer. The nasty smile strongly reminded Sechs of some opponents he enjoyed thrashing in the past; such memories set off his battle-crazed neurons into a chaotic frenzy. Sechs didn't care of any handicaps or consequences he would have to deal with, the other man's challenging look was just too much for him to resist! He couldn't help but tremble with energy as he returned the man's grin with his own toothy scowl. "Aww! Don't wanna make the precious little nurses unhappy now, huh? You're no fun!" Sechs taunted whilst exerting more of his weight against his new found opponent.
Whoa, what was up with this guy's voice? It wasn't like Recluse, whose tone was always a low, steady rumble. Instead it kinda... pitched here and there... Sechs' vicious grimace momentarily twitched upwards at the corners of his lips as he buried a hint of a snicker with a forced growl. With some effort Sechs managed to keep his aggressive composure, at least for now. Keep steady...
"If you're too chicken to start something, then how 'bout leaving that job to me, eh?" Sechs went on as he shifted forward onto the balls of his feet to gain more altitude towards the taller man's face. "I'm sure your beloved nurses won't mind us going amok here for a little while..."
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"Heh! That's the best you can come up with, you scrawny halfwit?" Though, as unimaginative as the guy's insults were, Teisel hated, hated being called an idiot, and remarks on his hair were nearly as bad. He happened to think it was one of his most attractive features. The little shit was probably just jealous. "Oh no," he wailed mockingly, and he would have wrung his hands if he'd had the space for it, "Who am I dealing with? Did I make a mistake? Is the clumsy dumbass mad at me?" He pushed back. "I'm shaking."
The idea behind getting in the guy's face in the first place had been to get him to back off. When he continued to push back, Teisel felt a little twinge of uncertainty that quickly flared into anger. This wasn't how this was supposed to work. "It's got nothing to do with the nurses," he snapped, trying very hard to keep a hold of himself. "You're starting shit over something stupid, and it was your fault anyway!"
As the shorter man stretched up to get uncomfortably close to his face, Teisel felt an unexplainable urge to bite him. "If you start something, I guess I'll have to finish it." Right in the face. He could probably take the tip of his nose off if he was quick about it. Teisel's eye twitched. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to be a flaming moron about this." Or he could play meat grinder with one of the guy's lips. That'd definitely catch him off guard.
Teisel shook his head. If he was seriously considering gnawing a man's face off, it was probably time to give up talking. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a fistful for the guy's shirt. "Did you really just say 'amok' out loud? I ought'a beat your ass just for that, you little shit."
Here he thought he'd get a little relaxation and time to think. It couldn't be helped...
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"You're dealing with the upcoming champion of the Z.O.T Tournament you big dumbass! Sechs from the Space Angels team! And who are you? Some stupid son of a Deckman who doesn't know how to watch Combat TV?" Sechs was starting to get pretty tired of explaining that all the time. Wasn't there anyone here who knew about the Zenith of Things Tournament? It rather disappointed Sechs...
"My fault?!" Sechs scoffed, "I'd say it was your hair that started it! You should put a leash on that thing!" The Replica pushed right on back. "Or would you like me to cut it off fer ya?!"
Then Sechs found himself standing upon the tips of his shoes as he was lifted up by the infuriated stranger. Surprisingly enough, Sechs gave off no sign of resistance or fear. Instead his mouth simply cracked open into an insane grin while his amber eyes widened with savage zeal. The Replica's arms hung somewhat loosely at his sides, but the way his hands twitched and flexed gave no indication of submission; he was fully primed to strike at a moment's notice.
Sechs shook with a husky chuckle. "What's wrong? Your tiny little brain don't like that sort of vocabulary? Tough!" The Replica lifted his braced hand, not to poke the man with his finger, but to gesture him to wait. "Now, before you even try to beat my ass, I've got an even better idea on how to spend our time together! Wanna hear it?"
With his finger still pointed at his opponent, Sechs' left hand prepared to move in for the first hit, hoping that the man would be too distracted by his right hand to notice. The Replica's wolfish grin grew as he laid out his vicious proposal.
"How 'bout I rip every hair off your stupid head in one go? I'll pull it off so hard that the top of your thick skull will pop off and that shitty excuse for a brain of yours will go 'ker-splat'! And when you're down, I'll take that pretty hacksaw on display over there..." Sechs thumbed out a particularly large blade hanging off the shelf behind him before he went on, "...and then I'll shove it right up yer ASS!! How does that sound?"
To show the big brute that he was serious, Sechs whipped out his left hand and clutched a fistful of the other man's grey hair before he could react. "Here! Let me give you a sample!" Sechs sneered before giving it a quick tug. "Yoink!"
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Even someone joking about cutting his hair was enough to put Teisel on the defensive. "Cut my hair," he snarled, "and I'll hang you with it."
He could feel his face get red. No one laughed at Teisel Bonne and got off scot free. The little shit was going to regret it. "I know what it means, you arrogant asshole, you just sound like a ponce." He shook his head in answer to the other man's question, but he should have known it'd be rhetorical. If what Captain Cuckoo was spouting could be called rhetoric.
"Sounds like physically impossible hyperbole to me," he said once the guy had paused for breath. He gave Sechs a casual shake. "Scalping me wouldn't do anything to my skull, you dumb shit, and you couldn't get enough torque to do it with your bare hands anyway." Making a face, he spared a quick glance at the aforementioned hacksaw. "And you should keep your weird fantasies to yourself; it's not really-"
Anything else he'd been planning to say was cut off by an enraged shriek. "OW! What the fuck was that for, you rotten little dickhead?!" Out of pure childish reflex, he grabbed a fistful of the other Sechs' hair and wrenched at it. "How do you like it?"
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"That's NOT my name you JACKASS! It's SECHS! And don't you make me remind you of that again!" He yelled as he roughly shoved the taller man back. "The Z.O.T.T. isn't some stupid reality show either! It's a SPORT!!"
Sechs did a stiff impersonation of a bobblehead doll as his big-haired challenger gave him an unloving shake. The Replica's scruffy hair was tossed about into more disarray from the rough motion, but it didn't wipe off the odious smile from his face. "Well, if I were still in my Fizziroy body it would have been a cinch for me to pull off! You can't blame me for trying, eh?"
Then Sechs got a taste of his own medicine. He could feel his hair nearly tearing off his scalp from the man's attack on his messy locks, causing him to give out a strangled yelp of pain. "Geeze that smarts!!" Sechs achingly thought to himself as he felt a weird watery sensation emerge in his eyes. Instantly his sick grin transformed into a bloodthirsty snarl. "ARGH!! Why you--!!"
The Replica froze within mid strike of plowing his fist into the side of the offending man's head. He had been expecting a manful holler of pain or a barbaric roar from the other man once he pulled his hair. Yet to Sechs' utter bewilderment, he instead heard what strongly resembled a spooked Guinea Pig of giant proportions. Immediately Sechs' bestial expression popped like a burst bubble. Sechs' face shifted into a stupefied visage as he blinked at his opponent.
Oh man...! The big guy's voice just pitched again! And this time it was even worse! He never got this sort of reaction from an opponent before! The big-haired man practically squealed! No! Shrieked! Squeaked! Wheeked! Now Sechs began to shake with a different sort of laughter. He couldn't hold it in! He just couldn't--!
For a moment Sechs tried to speak out the rest of his threat but found himself losing the fight against the rising giggle fit that threatened to burst out of him. After trying to keep his lips sealed, Sechs finally gave way to the irresistible hilarity as his laughter came out as a "pfft!" before exploding into loud guffaws.
"Did -- Did you just SQUEAK, man?!" Sechs managed to cry out before throwing back his head from another convulsion of laughter. No longer tense within the other man's stranglehold, Sechs' left arm limply dropped to his side while his braced hand cupped over his eyes. Sechs couldn't stay mad at this guy! He was just too funny to fight! The onslaught of adrenaline began to drain away out of his system as endorphins took their place. It may have been the first time he had an honest laugh in a long while...
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The blow never fell. Instead, Sechs started...laughing? Why? Confused and more than a little disconcerted by the man's unpredictability, Teisel took a step back. The guy really was crazy, even compared to the other loons he'd met in this godforsaken place.
"I...I don't squeak!" Nervousness banished by a new wave of anger, Teisel bristled at the insult. He was one of the most fearsome pirates in the northern hemisphere, and he most definitely didn't squeak. "Shut up! Stop laughing!"
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Once released, Sechs stumbled back against the shelf behind him, nearly doubled over with laughter as he leaned upon it for support. "St-Stop squealing then!" he sputtered out between a series of guffaws, "you're killing me!!"
After a moment of nearly hysterical mirth, the Replica's laughter gradually died down. With a good chunk of his energy spent from his hilarity, Sechs allowed himself to wearily slide down against the shelf towards the floor. Once slumped over upon the ground, an occasional leftover chuckle would bubble out from the Replica as his lungs worked overtime to regain lost oxygen.
Having attained a bearable state of calm, Sechs unmannerly wiped away the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve. "Woo... Th-Thanks man... I needed that!" he wheezed amongst heavy breaths. "It's been nothing but hell for me since last night..."
Tilting his head back against the support beam of the shelf, Sechs eyed the taller man with a smile that was actually friendly compared to the vulgar ones he had given before. "What's yer name?" Sechs asked before he heaved out a hoarse cough. Pointing to the stranger, Sechs then added, "and don't say it's something like 'Mr. Squeaky', I just might suffocate if you do..."
The very thought of the big, shrieky man having such a fitting name sent Sechs shuddering with weary giggles.
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"You're gonna be laughing through three teeth if you don't shut up!" he growled, eye twitching slightly. Or rather, he attempted to growl; he was so wound up it was difficult to force his voice down. This was so humiliating...
Freezing for a moment, literally too enraged to move, Teisel tried to process what Sechs had just said. "Suffocation can be arranged," he ground out, with effort. "I'm Teisel Bonne," he said, though by now he didn't hold out any hope of anyone recognizing the name. "I lead the most dangerous pirating family in the northern hemisphere, there isn't a police force or navy in the world that's ever been able to catch me, I sacked Kimotoma City in a single day and I do not squeak!" He was shaking by the time he'd finished. He'd put up with a lot this past week, but this was beyond his endurance. He was an air pirate, damnit! That should have meant something!
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"Squeezel Bonne?! Ah- HA HA HA HAAAAA!! You ARE trying to kill me, aren't you?!" Overtaken by another fit of laughs, Sechs flopped over to his side as he wrapped his arms around his aching stomach. "St-Stop it! I can't breathe!"
Struggling to regain his composure, the Replica pushed himself into a more upright position against the shelf as he forced his laughter down his throat. "Most dangerous pirate of the northern hemisphere, huh? Sounds impressive!" His tone of admiration was sincere, but unfortunately Sechs was unable to keep a straight face for long. "Hee! Did you use that voice of yours to blow up that city? I bet if you used the right amplifier you'd be able to start a shock wave powerful enough to knock down a whole building!" With that Sechs fell right back down into a ridiculous session of snickering.
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"No!" Teisel snapped, the indignity of it all too much to stand. "I didn't! I used mortars just like anyone else would, thank you very much! Although," he mused quietly, intrigued by the idea despite himself, "with a few modifications to the Blitzkrieg's sonar rig, and maybe a dedicated refractor..."
Shaking his head as though to clear out visions of calculations and blueprints, Teisel glared down at Sechs, who was making a spectacle of himself even by Teisel's standards. "Oh, just shut up and get up off the floor, would ya'? What are you, four?"
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No longer caught within his uncontrollable mirth, Sechs had better success at pushing himself up from his sprawl upon the floor. When he was back to sitting up against the shelf, Sechs aloofly waved a hand at Teisel, gesturing the aggravated man to calm down. "Alright, alright! Geeze! No need to blow yer top, pop!" Sechs chortled. "I was just having a bit of fun. I haven't exactly been able to have that since I ended up here..." Yeah, what with the whole being separated from his powerful Fizziroy body and being unable to have a decent battle since then...
Sechs' sharp eyebrows perked with interest at the mentioning of such heavy artillery, giving way to the same look of fascination he expressed earlier with Recluse. "Mortars, huh? I used to have a Solenoid Quench gun myself. What other kinds of weapons did ya use?"
Still a little winded from his laugh attack, Sechs gave out a grunt as he heaved himself back upon his feet. Once off the floor, he momentarily staggered before returning to his earlier slouch against the shelf. His laughter-induced smile faltered at Teisel's words. "Oh yeah? Well, for your information, I'm NOT four!" He paused for a moment to gruffly blow some stray hairs away from his face. "I'm two!"
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A little uneasy at the sudden rapt attention he was getting (though at least this was a different flavor of rapt attention than he'd been getting from certain other people), Teisel gave Sechs a sidelong glance. It was a topic he dearly loved, though, and far preferable to more shouting. For the moment. "Oh, just the usual." He shrugged. "Cannons, plasma busters, guided missiles, tanks, robots..." With an air of studied nonchalance, he studied the fingernails of his left hand while reciting a list that would make an expansionist dictator blush. "...torpedoes, rail guns, bazookas, multiple variations on the theme of 'bomb,' y'know, just ordinary crap like that." He looked up from his nails. "Not familiar with yours, though. Is it projectile or plasma based?" A hint of actual curiosity laced the question. While Tron was definitely the superior mechanic in the family, and could intuitively understand the whole of a machine at a level Teisel knew he'd never reach, he was no slouch when it came to individual weapons and specific components. Any ideas that could be useful to the family when he got home were well worth picking up.
Two? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Teisel tried to soothe away the beginnings of a headache. "Either you're joking, or we may as well get the ol' song and dance over with now. What species?" This place was so damn weird. He was never going to get used to it.
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