Malcolm Kimberlee
Well, that could’ve gone worse, he thought to himself. At least the girl had wised up enough to get the memo, but damn that hurt. That’s right, if you have the guts to get mad, get mad. Despite his brazen speech, he was as calm as ice.
It was as if gambling his life made him feel even more alive. No, he definitely gambled his life, a foolish gamble and he knew it. Letting his sentimentality get the best of him, just how stupid can one be?
The only reason he was still alive was because of luck, but that didn’t seem to bother him. No, that wasn’t quite right either. But letting that asshole do as he pleased and get even an inch closer to that girl was something he could not do. And now the limp dicked dipshit was just in his range, the concealed rope around his arms extended rapidly as he filled his entire body with magic energy, wrapping both of their limbs together with steel-hard rope.
My parents always told me not to get involved in what doesn’t regard you. Then again, I’ve never been good at listening to others. I don’t care about law, or politics, or justice or even you. I have my own values, my own laws, and I don’t expect anyone to protect them but myself. I know I have no chance of standing up to you, I know that far too well. I’m just a foolish little man, but even a foolish little man can fight in his own foolish little ways.
“See, this is why you don’t let your emotions get the better of you. Now they've got away." He sighed nonchalantly, his lips barely curling up in a condescending grin.
Damn, if only he could shut up. He’d dug his own grave real good there, but for some reason he just couldn’t stop. It was as if some force was driving him to say these things, an impulse he couldn’t understand.
Yeah, the security’s shit, no one but ourselves can protect what we hold, because we can only hold so little. This whole dump is one major shithole, no law is gonna change that. But yknow, this shithole is all we have. This is my, our city, and we gotta stick together. The old bartender lady who always serves me her homefried specials when I look down even when I say I ain’t feeling it, the drunkard oafs who are always too cheerful to restrain a joke, the ugly whores who always serve drinks with the brightest smiles, the greedy gamblers who are always ready to pull one on ya.
The orphans, the vigilantes, the clerks, the outlaws, the buisnessmen, the police. All of them, all of us, we fight for our own justice, our own laws, so we can live and fight another day. This city, its people, they are some of the best, most hard working people I’ve ever met. Sorry, but I guess I simply can't afford to care anymore.
It was almost thrilling, this gamble. To put his life on the line like this, to give shit and fight against something far beyond him, it was what he lived for. Even an outlaw with no standards ought to have principles, and even if it meant dying he would uphold them. He spat on the ground and looked back to meet his eyes and stare his death face to face.
“Rip my arms all you want if you please, but once done with that you better snap my neck real good, otherwise I’ll drag you down to hell with my teeth. Don’t look down on Nexus city, you self righteous hypocrite.”
