~~~Prologue~~~
To survive in the seedy crime infested underbelly of the world, you needed to loosen up your pre-established take on morals. What was right and what was wrong. Who was good and who was evil. None of that mattered when all you cared about was the bottom line: Making sure you were feared throughout the criminal underworld. Reputation was and is everything and without a good one? You might as well have just painted a target on your back for all the good sitting around and playing nice will do you. One such gang made sure that they'd never be perceived as soft and stuck to branding that image whenever they came into conflict with equally opportunistic gangs seeking to make a name for themselves by decimating some of the competition. Only this gang picked the wrong crowd to mess with. They weren't dealing with your average band of thugs armed with pocketknives and pistols. These were the bogeymen of childhood stories, these were true monsters.
They were....
The Gang of the Four Deaths and this is their story.
Bones shattering was always an awful noise to hear no matter how many times you've heard it. Whether you believed yourself 'used to it' or not, you always subconsciously winced because the idea that noise could come from you next always sat in the back of your thoughts. The man who went by the alias of 'Joe' was one such individual. Having served as an enforcer in the New York division of the Sicilian mafia, he made sure that loose lips were closed for good and wannabe tough guys like the one he was currently working over? They deserved to have their ambitions and hopes shattered before them and then meeting their end. It's what he would want if he was in their shoes. But then he was a professional so the chances of that happening were about as high as this guy's hopes of taking Joe's gang out.
That is to say absolutely zilch.
"C'mon, lemme go! Look, you and that other freak, you butchered the rest of my men! If you don't let me go my boss will hear about this and you assholes are gonna regret messing with us-" The thug was cut off by a bout of wheezy laughter as Joe's superior and the leader of the Four Deaths stepped into view. Having taken up an abandoned warehouse as their current place of residence, the leader felt that it spoke to the gang on a figurative sense. Just like this building was torn and disfigured from years of wear and tear, the gang were messed up in their own individual ways. Stepping over the corpses of the current captive's friends and former associates, the boss of Joe's gang leaned into the thug's face, his hot breath escaping from the holes on his beak-like muzzle and running across the guy's face. It was only then that did he realize how FUBAR'ed his gang had been the second they started beef with the Four Deaths. Although Joe's superior wasn't much to look at in terms of height, he still radiated an intimidating presence about him. The fluffy jacket that was obviously much too big for him hung loosely over his shoulders and his piercing red eyes burrowed into the man's own, as if gazing at his soul itself and judging it. His hair slicked back just as he felt a professional's hair should be and his nails nicely trimmed and painted black just as he desired. Reaching up to unstrap his muzzle, he let it drop to the floor and the thug's scream turned itno a muted whimper that nearly died escaping from his throat due to sheer terror alone.
*drip* *drip*
Drool oozed off the massive insect-like mandibles and onto the floor beneath him. Said mandibles were about the size of a football, give or take and looked as if they had ruptured through the cheeks of the leader but if he was in any pain, he certainly didn't let it show. Opening the mandibles ever so slightly, he snapped them shut just as quickly. As if it was a sign of things to come. What followed next could only have sounded like gibberish to the thug. Which only made the captive more frightened. He had heard these guys were monsters, to the point of not even being considered human anymore depending on who you asked. But he had never imagined a sight quite like that. As the leader spoke to 'Joe' with saliva coursing down his mandibles the entire time and a massive lisp also not helping the case either, Joe simply nodded in response. He'd understood what practically no other man could. "The boss says that you're wrong in calling us freaks. S'not quite accurate according to him."
"W-What?! How the hell did you get that out of what he 'said?! I couldn't even understand one word of it-"
The man's confused protests were silenced with another audible snapping of the mandibles. No interruptions or insults would be allowed while Joe spoke. In contrast with his honey rich suit that looked exactly what you'd expect a mobster from the 1920s or 30s to wear that emphasized smooth and slickness, Joe's voice was anything but smooth. His voice was gravely and about as baritone as one could get. If he had a smoking habit, he hadn't made it clear to the rest of the gang. But if it helped any, it certainly did a number to spook half-witted thugs and idiots. Stepping back from the man who immediately attempted to stand up and draw his piece, Joe put a kibosh on that idea by drawing an aluminum bat from his nearby satchel and placed it near the side of the man's head, the warning all too clear. Move or try to use your gun in any way? You'll get your skull cracked before you can aim.
"What we have are 'gifts.' Gifts that were bestowed upon us to use to their full potential. I think you'll find that we've been quite successful in that regard." Gesturing with his free hand to the dozens of the corpses that lined the warehouse, Joe continued his translation of his boss's gibberish. "What you and people like you fail to understand is that to beat us, you've have to find somebody equally as motivated as we are to rule the underworld and with gifts better than ours. But if you want my opinion-the boss's not mine, you ain't getting shit from me-your gang's chances of finding that or walking out of here intact ended the second you crossed the threshold into our turf."
"You won't get away with killing me and all of my friends. I've got friends in high places, you wait and see."
Amused by the comment, the leader splayed his arms to the side in a grandiose gesture. Once again whatever he seemed to say was indecipherable to the regular human ear. It may as well have been a completely unintelligible language for all the thug got out of it. Joe on the other hand once again seemed to understand it perfectly. "Whatever friends you may have had certainly didn't sponsor this little 'expedition' of yours I'm sure. If they're smart and given that they're not here rotting with your buddies, they are. They'll cut their losses and find new grunts to take your place. Might not be what you want to hear but it's the truth, padre. Everybody's replaceable in life. Even with someone who has an overinflated sense of himself like you do." Not wanting to accept the fact that he was doomed, the man began pleading for his life, offering huge sums of money that Joe and his boss both knew were just white lies in an attempt to gain mercy.
It's just unfortunate that they were all out of that today.
Nothing more needed to be said. The bat began to swing and the screams grew distorted, incomprehensible and eventually silent. The tip of Joe's bat was stained a dark crimson and bits of brain and skull littered the grime ridden floor. "Sorry for the mess, boss. I'll remember to put the rugs down next time." Joe murmured before having his apology waved off. The fact that they'd butchered yet another entire gang was good enough news that the dirty floor didn't bother him in the slightest. But just then the back door to the warehouse's office room was kicked open with a scrappy looking youth hopping high up into the air and landed down near the two with enough force to leave a miniature crater in the floor.
"The hell took you guys so long?! I don't mind keeping Free busy but you've gotta stop drawing these things out! Just get rid of em and be done with it! It's the least you could do for me since I didn't even get to fight this time! Joe got to do all the work, Kabuto!"
Rolling his eyes, Kabuto clicked his mandibles together and shot up a bit more spittle. Even as a member of the group himself, the up and comer couldn't make heads or tails of Kabuto's dialogue, one of the many drawbacks that came with the gang leader's power. He had super strength, ability to spread venom and then secrete an anti venom if he so wished but these mandibles made life so much harder than it had to be. Yet he wouldn't give them up for the world. "The boss says you should learn to share and wants to know what Free's up to since you're in here. You can't let him come in with the room like this. We've gotta dispose of the bodies."
"Last I checked, he was sitting on the couch in the office watching TV. What? Do I have to babysit him constantly or am I gonna get to wreck the fools who come up here daring to challenge us? Way I see it, we should let him see a little bit of the ultra violence and let him get used to it rather than-"
"Juno!"
In one of the few words that he could spit out and still be understand, Kabuto separated his mandibles apart in a threatening gesture and stepped towards Juno, grabbing the boy by the neck even as the other's feet tapped on the ground ready to leap away at a moment's notice. All due to that handy grasshopper related powers. Watching the two argue with little to say that wasn't simply translating Kabuto, Joe pulled out a baby wipe and cleaned off his bat. Didn't need old dried blood ruining the polish on his weapon. His power was less combat oriented than either Juno or Kabuto's which meant he had to rely on more conventional weaponry. Still, as his power allowed him to 'decipher' things, he could understand Kabuto as if he was speaking plain English. Pulling Kabuto's hand off the collar of his shirt, Juno was less than impressed. "Watch where you stick your hands, Kabuto! I just can't go around getting this school jersey as if I were still a student you know! So keep your hands to yourself unless you want to get rough, huh?" Hopping from one foot to the other, Kabuto stared him down coldly and it seemed as if the two were indeed going to come to blows until Free belted into the room, pushing the door open and flying a loop de loop in the air above the two team members about to use their bug parts to rip eachother apart. "Kabuto, Juno, Joe!! I'm so happy to see you guys all hanging out again!! Juno showed me these old gangster movies and I thought we could start wearing fancy suits-" Free was an idealistic youth even given the company he kept. But somethings bothered even him. Like the dozens of dead bodies scattered around the warehouse.
Not happy at all that Free had to see all of this, Kabuto immediately began speaking to Joe to get a translated message out. "Don't worry about them, Free. They came, we had a bit of a mild disagreement, that's all. Nothing to get worked up about." Throwing the last thug over his shoulder, Joe turned to feed the body to the 'creature' the gang had under their control. The less said about that monster the better however. Although he was young, Free wasn't a fool in the slightest and glared at Kabuto and Juno. "This isn't just a friendly disagreement or a mere fight. You...You guys killed again!!"
Knowing of Free's pure heart better than anyone, Kabuto sighed and moved forward to pat the boy on the head. An explanation would be needed to try and explain that this had been necessary. The gang needed to fight and even kill to survive in this day and age. It's just how the world they found themselves in worked. But Free wanted nothing to do with it. Slapping the incoming hand away with his eyes starting to glow bright purple, he hovered slightly off the ground. "No! You can't just shut me up with head pats and hugs! I don't want us...I don't want us to become murderers and monsters in the eyes of the world, Kabuto."
Before things could go any further, the four felt a strange pulling sensation engulfing all of them. It felt as if their very being was pulled apart and soon they'd simply vanish from the warehouse entirely, leaving only the corpses of their enemies behind.
~~~Prologue concluded~~~
Reappearing in a sort of futuristic room, Kabuto quickly moved to readjust his muzzle. He didn't want anybody he didn't know seeing his mouth without his approval. But more importantly than that, he had been dragged away in the middle of a conversation. He didn't know who or what was responsible but a horrifying growling noise escaped from Kabuto as his mandibles clicked and grinded together. Who did these people think they were?!
He was Kabuto!
@Lady White
To survive in the seedy crime infested underbelly of the world, you needed to loosen up your pre-established take on morals. What was right and what was wrong. Who was good and who was evil. None of that mattered when all you cared about was the bottom line: Making sure you were feared throughout the criminal underworld. Reputation was and is everything and without a good one? You might as well have just painted a target on your back for all the good sitting around and playing nice will do you. One such gang made sure that they'd never be perceived as soft and stuck to branding that image whenever they came into conflict with equally opportunistic gangs seeking to make a name for themselves by decimating some of the competition. Only this gang picked the wrong crowd to mess with. They weren't dealing with your average band of thugs armed with pocketknives and pistols. These were the bogeymen of childhood stories, these were true monsters.
They were....
The Gang of the Four Deaths and this is their story.
Bones shattering was always an awful noise to hear no matter how many times you've heard it. Whether you believed yourself 'used to it' or not, you always subconsciously winced because the idea that noise could come from you next always sat in the back of your thoughts. The man who went by the alias of 'Joe' was one such individual. Having served as an enforcer in the New York division of the Sicilian mafia, he made sure that loose lips were closed for good and wannabe tough guys like the one he was currently working over? They deserved to have their ambitions and hopes shattered before them and then meeting their end. It's what he would want if he was in their shoes. But then he was a professional so the chances of that happening were about as high as this guy's hopes of taking Joe's gang out.
That is to say absolutely zilch.
"C'mon, lemme go! Look, you and that other freak, you butchered the rest of my men! If you don't let me go my boss will hear about this and you assholes are gonna regret messing with us-" The thug was cut off by a bout of wheezy laughter as Joe's superior and the leader of the Four Deaths stepped into view. Having taken up an abandoned warehouse as their current place of residence, the leader felt that it spoke to the gang on a figurative sense. Just like this building was torn and disfigured from years of wear and tear, the gang were messed up in their own individual ways. Stepping over the corpses of the current captive's friends and former associates, the boss of Joe's gang leaned into the thug's face, his hot breath escaping from the holes on his beak-like muzzle and running across the guy's face. It was only then that did he realize how FUBAR'ed his gang had been the second they started beef with the Four Deaths. Although Joe's superior wasn't much to look at in terms of height, he still radiated an intimidating presence about him. The fluffy jacket that was obviously much too big for him hung loosely over his shoulders and his piercing red eyes burrowed into the man's own, as if gazing at his soul itself and judging it. His hair slicked back just as he felt a professional's hair should be and his nails nicely trimmed and painted black just as he desired. Reaching up to unstrap his muzzle, he let it drop to the floor and the thug's scream turned itno a muted whimper that nearly died escaping from his throat due to sheer terror alone.
*drip* *drip*
Drool oozed off the massive insect-like mandibles and onto the floor beneath him. Said mandibles were about the size of a football, give or take and looked as if they had ruptured through the cheeks of the leader but if he was in any pain, he certainly didn't let it show. Opening the mandibles ever so slightly, he snapped them shut just as quickly. As if it was a sign of things to come. What followed next could only have sounded like gibberish to the thug. Which only made the captive more frightened. He had heard these guys were monsters, to the point of not even being considered human anymore depending on who you asked. But he had never imagined a sight quite like that. As the leader spoke to 'Joe' with saliva coursing down his mandibles the entire time and a massive lisp also not helping the case either, Joe simply nodded in response. He'd understood what practically no other man could. "The boss says that you're wrong in calling us freaks. S'not quite accurate according to him."
"W-What?! How the hell did you get that out of what he 'said?! I couldn't even understand one word of it-"
The man's confused protests were silenced with another audible snapping of the mandibles. No interruptions or insults would be allowed while Joe spoke. In contrast with his honey rich suit that looked exactly what you'd expect a mobster from the 1920s or 30s to wear that emphasized smooth and slickness, Joe's voice was anything but smooth. His voice was gravely and about as baritone as one could get. If he had a smoking habit, he hadn't made it clear to the rest of the gang. But if it helped any, it certainly did a number to spook half-witted thugs and idiots. Stepping back from the man who immediately attempted to stand up and draw his piece, Joe put a kibosh on that idea by drawing an aluminum bat from his nearby satchel and placed it near the side of the man's head, the warning all too clear. Move or try to use your gun in any way? You'll get your skull cracked before you can aim.
"What we have are 'gifts.' Gifts that were bestowed upon us to use to their full potential. I think you'll find that we've been quite successful in that regard." Gesturing with his free hand to the dozens of the corpses that lined the warehouse, Joe continued his translation of his boss's gibberish. "What you and people like you fail to understand is that to beat us, you've have to find somebody equally as motivated as we are to rule the underworld and with gifts better than ours. But if you want my opinion-the boss's not mine, you ain't getting shit from me-your gang's chances of finding that or walking out of here intact ended the second you crossed the threshold into our turf."
"You won't get away with killing me and all of my friends. I've got friends in high places, you wait and see."
Amused by the comment, the leader splayed his arms to the side in a grandiose gesture. Once again whatever he seemed to say was indecipherable to the regular human ear. It may as well have been a completely unintelligible language for all the thug got out of it. Joe on the other hand once again seemed to understand it perfectly. "Whatever friends you may have had certainly didn't sponsor this little 'expedition' of yours I'm sure. If they're smart and given that they're not here rotting with your buddies, they are. They'll cut their losses and find new grunts to take your place. Might not be what you want to hear but it's the truth, padre. Everybody's replaceable in life. Even with someone who has an overinflated sense of himself like you do." Not wanting to accept the fact that he was doomed, the man began pleading for his life, offering huge sums of money that Joe and his boss both knew were just white lies in an attempt to gain mercy.
It's just unfortunate that they were all out of that today.
Nothing more needed to be said. The bat began to swing and the screams grew distorted, incomprehensible and eventually silent. The tip of Joe's bat was stained a dark crimson and bits of brain and skull littered the grime ridden floor. "Sorry for the mess, boss. I'll remember to put the rugs down next time." Joe murmured before having his apology waved off. The fact that they'd butchered yet another entire gang was good enough news that the dirty floor didn't bother him in the slightest. But just then the back door to the warehouse's office room was kicked open with a scrappy looking youth hopping high up into the air and landed down near the two with enough force to leave a miniature crater in the floor.
"The hell took you guys so long?! I don't mind keeping Free busy but you've gotta stop drawing these things out! Just get rid of em and be done with it! It's the least you could do for me since I didn't even get to fight this time! Joe got to do all the work, Kabuto!"
Rolling his eyes, Kabuto clicked his mandibles together and shot up a bit more spittle. Even as a member of the group himself, the up and comer couldn't make heads or tails of Kabuto's dialogue, one of the many drawbacks that came with the gang leader's power. He had super strength, ability to spread venom and then secrete an anti venom if he so wished but these mandibles made life so much harder than it had to be. Yet he wouldn't give them up for the world. "The boss says you should learn to share and wants to know what Free's up to since you're in here. You can't let him come in with the room like this. We've gotta dispose of the bodies."
"Last I checked, he was sitting on the couch in the office watching TV. What? Do I have to babysit him constantly or am I gonna get to wreck the fools who come up here daring to challenge us? Way I see it, we should let him see a little bit of the ultra violence and let him get used to it rather than-"
"Juno!"
In one of the few words that he could spit out and still be understand, Kabuto separated his mandibles apart in a threatening gesture and stepped towards Juno, grabbing the boy by the neck even as the other's feet tapped on the ground ready to leap away at a moment's notice. All due to that handy grasshopper related powers. Watching the two argue with little to say that wasn't simply translating Kabuto, Joe pulled out a baby wipe and cleaned off his bat. Didn't need old dried blood ruining the polish on his weapon. His power was less combat oriented than either Juno or Kabuto's which meant he had to rely on more conventional weaponry. Still, as his power allowed him to 'decipher' things, he could understand Kabuto as if he was speaking plain English. Pulling Kabuto's hand off the collar of his shirt, Juno was less than impressed. "Watch where you stick your hands, Kabuto! I just can't go around getting this school jersey as if I were still a student you know! So keep your hands to yourself unless you want to get rough, huh?" Hopping from one foot to the other, Kabuto stared him down coldly and it seemed as if the two were indeed going to come to blows until Free belted into the room, pushing the door open and flying a loop de loop in the air above the two team members about to use their bug parts to rip eachother apart. "Kabuto, Juno, Joe!! I'm so happy to see you guys all hanging out again!! Juno showed me these old gangster movies and I thought we could start wearing fancy suits-" Free was an idealistic youth even given the company he kept. But somethings bothered even him. Like the dozens of dead bodies scattered around the warehouse.
Not happy at all that Free had to see all of this, Kabuto immediately began speaking to Joe to get a translated message out. "Don't worry about them, Free. They came, we had a bit of a mild disagreement, that's all. Nothing to get worked up about." Throwing the last thug over his shoulder, Joe turned to feed the body to the 'creature' the gang had under their control. The less said about that monster the better however. Although he was young, Free wasn't a fool in the slightest and glared at Kabuto and Juno. "This isn't just a friendly disagreement or a mere fight. You...You guys killed again!!"
Knowing of Free's pure heart better than anyone, Kabuto sighed and moved forward to pat the boy on the head. An explanation would be needed to try and explain that this had been necessary. The gang needed to fight and even kill to survive in this day and age. It's just how the world they found themselves in worked. But Free wanted nothing to do with it. Slapping the incoming hand away with his eyes starting to glow bright purple, he hovered slightly off the ground. "No! You can't just shut me up with head pats and hugs! I don't want us...I don't want us to become murderers and monsters in the eyes of the world, Kabuto."
Before things could go any further, the four felt a strange pulling sensation engulfing all of them. It felt as if their very being was pulled apart and soon they'd simply vanish from the warehouse entirely, leaving only the corpses of their enemies behind.
~~~Prologue concluded~~~
Reappearing in a sort of futuristic room, Kabuto quickly moved to readjust his muzzle. He didn't want anybody he didn't know seeing his mouth without his approval. But more importantly than that, he had been dragged away in the middle of a conversation. He didn't know who or what was responsible but a horrifying growling noise escaped from Kabuto as his mandibles clicked and grinded together. Who did these people think they were?!
He was Kabuto!
@Lady White
