Jack Taiyo Dower's Story

Jack looked up from his knife, taking a pause from sharpening the thing to see why the hell the guards were opening the gate. He frowned when the girl came walking through the gate. Blonde hair, dull green eyes, and carrying herself like she owned Kingston. Jack was quick to figure it out. The girl was a hybrid. He sighed. He'd gotten here about a week ago, after spending nearly a month recovering from... something. He wasn't sure what, but the people who'd helped him said that he was half-dead. Now, he was in Kingston, and his weapons had immediately landed him in the town's guard, despite the fact that he had absolutely no idea who he was or where he'd come from. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Approach her? Follow her?

"All guards, be advised of a Hybrid entering through north gate. Teen, short blonde hair, green eyes, and a bad attitude."
Jack picked up his radio, and hit the talk button. "Jack here. You want me to approach?"
The voice on the other end laughed. "If you think you can handle her, Jack."
"I got her." He said. "Out." He put his radio onto his belt, behind the pistol's holster, put the knife in its sheath at his right knee, and jogged to catch the girl.

"Hey, kid!" He called, trying to get the girl's attention. "You got a minute?"

The city looked a little trashy, but inhabitable. Figures that the colony's been here for a while considering how much more cleaned up it looked than some of the other encampments she'd thrashed. Could be a good amount of people living in this dump, assuming they've got everything under control. Not even a minute after she'd stepped in and she was already drawing notice from people. A tall, rugged man. Seemed fit enough for a man his age, but looked awfully like a looter you'd seem scrounging around out in the streets or in abandoned stores. The tattoos really weren't helping with that part. Somebody was probably asked to keep an eye on her, not that she could place the blame on anyone but herself. She smiled a little at that thought, giving the man her full and undivided attention.

"I've got all the time in the world, pops." She cocked her head over in the direction of the gates. "But I guess some of your friends wouldn't be too happy about that long of a stay, would they? So what'd they tell you? 'Make sure she doesn't pull anything stupid?' Or maybe 'pop one in the back of her skull if she tries to run for it'?" Rachel raised her hands up in the air in a gesture of mock pacifism and defenselessness. "But hey, I'm just a kid right? The fuck am I going to do? Nag you and pull on your hair 'til you drop dead?" Her eyes narrowed a little and her smile curved into a frown, fully aware of the clear display she'd given by the front. "Yeah. I know. Not funny." She stuffed her hands back into her pockets. "So what do you want? "

Jack shook his head. "No, not here to hurt you, though I am affiliated with Kingston's guards. I just wanna talk." He looked her in the eyes. "I'm new around here, too." He admitted. "Only been here a week, and only got on the guard because some... friends, I suppose, put in a good word for me, and because I came armed." He smiled. "I get the whole trust system that they've set up around here, but you can't earn trust unless you give them a little to start. Point is, I'll give you a chance. The rest of the guards won't like it, but I figure that makes it worth it." He smiled, and stuck out his hand.

"My name's Jack." He said. "What's yours?"

"Not gonna hurt me, huh?" Rachel glared skeptically. "How courteous of you." She took his extended hand and gave it a firm shake. The moment her fingers wrapped around, the feeling that ran down her spine as their hands met, she instantly knew that this man was not human. It wasn't a very noticeable sensation, but for someone who's spent such a long time handling other hybrids, she'd say that she was in a respectable enough position to say that this guy was likely to be a hybrid. That makes one. "Name's Rachel Ensley," she answered, releasing her grip. "First name or last, it doesn't really matter what you call me. Heck, you can address me as 'kid' or 'brat' for all I care. Just don't get too cocky." She grinned as she finished her sentence, cramming her hands back into her pockets. If things work out in their favor, who knows? She might even give 'em a chance as well. It's not like it's a terrible thing to settle on the group likely to be sitting outside of Kingston wherever they happened to be now.

It was then that Rachel noticed something unsettling in the corner of her eye. Her eyes flashed a brilliant green and she immediately took a defensive position, her arms hardening into sickly black plates. Veins of pure scarlet cracked in a spiderweb pattern across her armored skin, glowing with excited rivulets of blood coursing under her flesh. Her breath slowed, a loud and audible pant as she trained her gaze on the target. Dark clothes, long black hair and brown eyes complimenting pale skin and a youthful appearance. She relaxed herself and let out a heavy sigh, receding the hybrid alterations that had triggered on instinct.

No. It was definitely someone else.

"Tch."

Rachel turned around to Jack again and brushed away a few locks of stray hair. It wasn't something she should've gotten herself so worked up over, but still...it was a hard thing to erase from her mind. Especially not a wretched and humiliating experience like that.

Jack smiled as Rachel supplied him with a name. However, that smile quickly vanished as he noticed a flash in her eyes. She took up a fighting stance, her arms turning into blackened plates criss-crossed by ruby veins. Jack immediately pulled his pistol from the the holster it had been riding in with his right hand, while retrieving the knife from its sheath in the same moment with his left. If it was bad enough to make this girl feel the need to mutate...

He sighed, and put the weapons back. The only person in his immediate field of vision was a fairly short girl dressed mostly in black, brown eyes shining softly in the late-morning sun. Her gun was drawn, and she wore a scared look on her face as she looked at Rachel. He laughed softly, and shook his head. Would you look at me? He thought. I only remember being around Hybrids for a week, maybe less, and I'm already to the point where I'm acting off of them. Guess they were right. Doesn't take long 'til you're taking hints from them.

"Jesus, you acted like there was a feral loose or something." He said to Rachel. "Nearly shot that poor girl."
He looked at the newcomer. "I've put my weapons away, now I'd like to ask you to do the same." He said with a smile. "You're among friends, even if the north gate had their hands full with this one." He jerked his head in Rachel's direction. "Her bark's worse than her bite, from what I've seen." He took a tentative step towards the newcomer. "So please put your gun away. She won't be hurting you while I'm around."

"A feral?" Rachel scoffed lightly. "I wouldn't hold grudges against something so simple-minded. You ever been close to death, Jack?" She folded her arms over her chest and shifted her balance to her other leg. "I've been pretty damn close. Once. Not 'cause of a hunter or a hybrid. A human. I nearly got done in by a fucking human. Only a few months ago I was wandering around a city not too far up north from here when I spotted a perfect meal." She cocked her head to the side. "Looked a lot like that girl over there. I'm telling you, she was the craftiest motherfucker I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. The moment she noticed me, she was gone in the blink of an eye. So of course I followed after her."

Rachel sighed, shaking her head. "It was bad idea. You can probably imagine that I was on her tail pretty quickly, and then all of a sudden I trip over a wire. I get up, give a little more chase, and then next thing I know, a planted explosive charge nearby blows my fucking head off. I don't know how, but she managed to mask her scent; if that wasn't enough, she didn't make a single sound at all. If I stopped to listen, I'd hear absolutely nothing. Not only did this goddamn human get away from me, she nearly killed me a couple times along the way. I swear, I'm gonna find that sack of shit one day and tear her to shreds."

The quiet of the streets was unnerving. Gwen moved quietly, hugging the left side of the road as the distance between her and the chapel widened. As far as she was concerned, she could never be far enough away; but she knew the Bran and Roman's activity patterns and schedules well enough to avoid them altogether. In the off chance that the boys tried to locate her, Gwen herself would strive to stay out of the spotlight and be unpredictable in her movements. She would try to find herself somewhere off the radar to live--that is, assuming there was such a place left for her to find. Many people had come before Gwen who had been just as desperate to find somewhere to hide.

Gwen came round a corner, feet light against the grass-webbed concrete. Down the lane of crooked buildings, a sizable complex drew her attention. The south cafeteria, empty. Chains glistened on the front door; not a soul stirred within. Gwen moved on, her head bowed with bad memories.

So preoccupied were her thoughts that she neglected to look where she was going--and walked out into the middle of an intersection, straight into the company she had been trying to avoid.

Suddenly before her stood a morphing hybrid, the sickly alterations of its once-human flesh blossoming from the creature like blood from a wound. It happened so quickly, Gwen acted on subconscious reaction, as though strung by fire; the gun was draw and cocked without so much of a moment's hesitation. It was a reaction bordering on instinct that Gwen had been developing her entire life. A few seconds later she noticed that she wasn't alone with the roamer. A Kingston guard stood beside her, his gun aimed straight back at Gwen.

The roamer gave a sigh and dropped its defenses, its face adopting a patronizing expression as it apparently found Gwen suddenly dissatisfactory. The guard put his weapons away as well, stating as much as he asked Gwen to do the same.

Gwen made no such movement. "Do you know how fucked up this looks? she asked, indicating to the two of them. "The hybrid I can fucking handle. But A Kingston guard, teaming up with a hybrid of unknown alliance?" Her voice took on a sarcastic lilt. "So forgive me if I don't trust you."

Gwen's eyes narrowed as she studied the guard, though she kept her gun trained on the hybrid. "You in particular. I know who you are. I think the guards have been a little too trusting with your amnesiac ass. Looks like you're starting to prove where your loyalties lay, huh?"


The gun wavered slightly in Gwen's hands, the aim hovering around the general area of the hyrbid's midsection. She would aim to clock it between the eyes, but she knew that she wasn't a good enough shot to pull it off. Adrenaline made the seconds tick by slowly. That was good. She was used to the effects of adrenaline and could use them to their full advantage. Even at this hormone-induced state of increased strength, however, she knew she was the weakest of the three. Though, it was plausible that her opponents were aware of their advantage and wouldn't even consider her a threat.

Jack sighed. "Not what it looks like. If a Hybrid's gonna act up, I figured I probably need to be on guard. I didn't think that she'd be acting off of some old grudge." He frowned. "And so what if I can't remember shit about my past? The guards here don't have a problem with that so long as I don't cause any problems like you're doing now! Drop your damn gun!"

For a moment, his eyes flashed, going from the calm brown that they usually were to a crazed, bloodthirsty yellow. For that moment, all rational thought vacated Jack's mind, and a single, overriding directive to kill filled it instead. His hand rushed down to his gun's handle, though he quickly recovered. It was only for a moment, but after that moment had passed, Jack knew that it had happened again.

Since he'd recovered a month ago, he'd been having those 'flashes' whenever he got angry, and he'd lose control of himself. The nightmares weren't any better. Horrible dreams from some beast's perspective, murdering people brutally, bloodily. After the nightmares, he'd always wake up physically ill, feeling drained. He closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

"If you have a problem with me being on the Guard team, then bring it up with the captain." He said, trying to remain calm. "But remember that I'm here on a recommendation from a family on the outskirts that didn't have a problem with me. They saved my life, and I made myself helpful." He sighed. "That's my first memory, them saving my life, them helping me. That's all I want to do, other than figure out just who the hell I am..." He looked at the ring on his finger. "That, and find her. Maybe she'll know."

Shaking his head, he looked back up at the newcomer. "I want to help. Please put your gun away. I don't want to hurt you, and if this one wants to stay in Kingston, she won't hurt you either."

Gwen stared at him for a second before focusing her attention back on her target, the young hybrid. “You talk too much,” she said. The fellow came across as a little scatter-brained. Though, of course, mental deficits were probably to be expected of an amnesiac, especially if it was trauma induced. And in this day and age, most things were.

“The problem is that, for all your talk, you’re still not giving me any reason to trust you. It doesn’t matter whose fault it is that you’re an amnesiac. And unless that family knew your entire life’s story, I don’t think I trust them either.

“People have different ways of surviving in this world. I would have died a long time ago if I didn’t live in this city. I'm not cut out for life outside the city. You have to be made of sterner stuff in order to survive out there—if that’s indeed where you came from.

“No humans survive alone outside a city. Not for long. They team up, form alliances. And no matter what you do, there’s no clean way of living out there. People are driven to do horrible things; if someone on the outside is alive, that means they’ve murdered or maimed or stolen. Everyone’s got blood on their hands, but outsiders tend to have more than most.”

Gwen sighed. “Believe me when I say that I’m not accusing you of anything. I'm not saying that you're a murderer. And there’s no one who could. Your amnesia means that no one, not even yourself, knows the nature of your past. But the point is that you could be anyone and have done anything.” A small shudder ran down her frame. “I don’t know how I could trust myself, if I were you. You're may not be the person you think you are.”

“Now,” she said, changing tones, “what would really make me put the gun down is if you called in someone who could handle a fully-morphed roamer, such as one of our resident hybrids, and if she—” Gwen indicated toward the hybrid with the gun, “—gave her reasons for being here.”

Though Gwen wanted to put down her gun and leave, she couldn’t bring herself to trust these two strangers. She had learned her lesson about trusting people in this world. It had to be earned, and usually in blood. Her life wasn’t the only one at stake, after all.

The truth was that she didn’t give a shit about the guard. As long as he truly was not scheming with the hybrid or putting the city at risk by faking his amnesia, he could die in any manner of gruesome ways and she wouldn’t care. If the current situation had involved only him, she wouldn’t stick around.

The hybrid was a different story. She felt much more of an obligation to see it properly surveyed, as it posed both a threat to her and to the others in the city. But as soon as someone came in the handle the situation, Gwen was out of here. After she had done right by her conscious, all she wanted to do was make it across the city in one piece. She had her own problems to deal with, after all. Goddamn south Kingston.

Jack stared down the girl, still refusing to put her gun away. Finally, he sighed, and reached for his radio. "Fine." He said. "If it'll make you feel any better, I'll call in a residing Hybrid." He hit the talk button. "Jack here. I need a Hybrid in southwest to defuse a potential situation."
"Max responding. What do you mean, 'potential situation'?"
"Someone's got a gun drawn and won't put it away until a resident Hybrid comes in to escort our new guest."
"Little girl's caused that much trouble already?" Max asked pointedly.
"Yes she has." Jack admitted.
"Where you at?" Max asked.
"We're down the road from the south-side cafeteria." Jack responded.
"Alright. Closest Hybrid to you'd probably be Vera." Max sighed. "Vera, if you're listening in on this, go and take care of it. Max out."
"Jack out." He put the radio back onto his belt, and sighed. "Alright, while we wait, Rachel, why are you here?" He looked to the newcomer. "And at least give us a name so we can not refer to you as 'that new girl' or 'her'.

Rain cringed at the order as she read it for the millionth time. "Enter the town unnoticed. Find the Target. Clean house and leave." The orders were always the same every single time. Just a different place, usually a less crowded place then a city. It was normally an encampment or a caravan. " Why this...He should know my distaste for these places." Rain knew better then to complain to him. She did his dirty work. He got her the required nourishment so she didn't go feral. Fair trade.Besides it was too late to stop now. She was already in the god forsaken city of Kingston
As she silently made her way through the destroyed alleyways she came to an intersection of no hiding places. Rain peeked her head out of the alleyway and looked around, taking note of the three people that were at what looked like a stand off. The wind swept her hood off revealing her blood red eyes and her pure white hair let loose, hanging mostly in her face. Cursing her luck, she took a step out of the darkness, her gun strapped to her back and her mask securely in place. The girl quickly placed her hood back on before quickly moving towards the Cafeteria that looked abandoned. " Don't notice me, just ignore me, I don't want to hurt you." She muttered and repeated breathlessly as she kept her cloak clutched tightly around her.

Rachel's eyes followed a hooded figure emerging from a nearby alley but only for a moment. Speaking of raiders and looters, she looked a lot like one too. It wasn't that she was being judgmental because, to be incredibly blunt, everyone and everything is a menu item to her whenever she feels up for it so there isn't much point in distinguishing among different classes of human beings. She turned to Jack again and shrugged.

"Thought I might spend the night here." Her gaze shifted briefly to the other girl. "If you want to start something, by all means, go for it," she challenged. "Nobody's stopping you from pulling that trigger. I don't give a damn if you trust me or not because either way, I'm getting what I want and if that doesn't go well with you, you're going to have do something about that 'cause I sure as hell won't."

Vera usually knew most every one that came to West side caf. She is very sociable or at least tries to be. She has always been that way, even before the “change”, and is grateful for that trait. She's never been a trustworthy person to begin with, so it helps when she needs to make a good impression. But it seemed that today, the caf. was full of new faces, one being oddly familiar. Well, well, well, look who it is, Vera thought as she was struck by amusement; suddenly remembering an old friend.
She made her way past a few makeshift tables, just to end up at one that was placed in the very back, right-hand corner of the room. There was only one person occupying this table, a male that seemed in his late 50's. “Damn, you don't miss nothin' with that height. I feel bad for all the kids that had to play hide and seek with you in your childhood.” The elderly man's voice was raspy and low from many years of tobacco use, he had graying brown hair, and a very rough and bleak appearance. He seemed fit for his age and probably weighed around 170lb. “Oh, your funny. I would've guessed you only came around here to make my life so much easier... and they didn't have to play with me, they were just too scared to refuse.” Vera joked sarcastically as her voice sounded it's usual smooth and accented (Russian) tone. The man squinted an eye up at her before finally grinning, “That accent never get's old... So, are you gonna take a seat or are you gonna just stand there and tower over me, cause if that's the case, it's not having the affect you probably want; I'm not intimidated.” She picked up a folded chair that was lying up against the wall next to the table and took a seat. “Relax grandpa, I don't pick fights with the elderly.” “I'm grandpa now? Keep that up and I think you just might hurt my feelings.” “I'm counting on it... so, why are you here Ray? Is South side's food getting a little too stale for your taste?” Ray sighed and sat back in his chair as he brought a can of beer up to his lips, then set it aside. “You think I'd walk my ass all the way over here because of a little stale bread? No hun, definitely not. Something happened down in the south side caf. Unfortunately I wasn't around to know much, but they seem to have the place locked up, so I was forced to have my lunch here.” Vera stood silent for a moment, how curious. And before Vera had the chance to question Ray any further on the situation, her radio began to spark a static noise and a message came through.

"Jack here. I need a Hybrid in southwest to defuse a potential situation."
"Max responding. What do you mean, 'potential situation'?"
"Someone's got a gun drawn and won't put it away until a resident Hybrid comes in to escort our new guest."
"Little girl's caused that much trouble already?"
"Yes she has."
"Where you at?"
"We're down the road from the south-side cafeteria."
"Alright. Closest Hybrid to you'd probably be Vera. Vera, if you're listening in on this, go and take care of it. Max out."
"Jack out."

She raised her attention back at Ray who was giving her a bewildered stare. “Well?” He asked, “The situation ain't gonna solve it self. Get movin'.” She smiled and pointed a finger at Ray before getting up from her seat, “We are not done here.” “Mhm, sure. You say that every time.” Vera laughed and shrugged, “Well, we never are. Oh and Ray...” He cocked his head slightly at her, giving her the ok. “It's good seeing you again. You should visit me more often.” “I'm not visiting you, I'm here for the food.” She waved him off as she hurried out the caf.
Making her way down to the South side, she was coming close to an intersection and sensed the presence of a few “others” in the area. Keeping her guard up, she slowly approached the wide open area where she saw guns drawn and the young hybrid that was earlier alerted through radio. Keeping a good distance away and her arms ready at her sides, she examined the area and took in her surroundings. She assumed the only man there was Jack. But all others were yet to be determined, “Alright, first off...” Her attention was upon the girl with her gun drawn. “ You won't be needing that.” She then switched her attention towards the man, “Are you Jack?”

Jack stood there for what seemed like an eternity, hoping to all of the deities he knew (and he only knew three) that the situation wouldn't erupt into a shootout, always keeping his hand near his pistol. Would things go south? If they did, who'd be making the first move? He did the calculations carefully. Assuming that he wasn't the target of the first round of attacks, he'd be in the position to deal with the aggressor. They had a Mexican Standoff here: First shooter died.

After the perceived eternity passed, Jack noticed someone walking down the street towards them. He looked to see the imposing figure of Vera, one of the resident Mutants, standing there, taking in the situation. He'd seen her once or twice before, and her height and the way she carried herself had left an impression on him.

Vera turned to the Jane Doe with her gun drawn. "You won't be needing that." She said simply. She didn't ask her to put it away, he noted. It was almost a command. Then Vera turned her eyes on Jack. "Are you Jack?"
Jack simply nodded. "Sorry 'bout pulling you away from... whatever it is that you were doing." He said. "I suppose that I owe you one. Feel free to hold me to that."

He moved his hand away from his gun, and looked to the newcomer. "Now, would you mind giving me a name? I think I deserve that much."

Gwen was relieved when the guard pulled out his radio to call in a resident hybrid. The sooner someone else stepped in to deal with the situation, the sooner Gwen could leave—and selfishness was not the only reason she was eager to pass the proverbial gun to someone else. Civilized hybrids were the colony’s strongest allies, and the arrival of one to watch the child hybrid could mean saving lives.

Even when the child was talking to her, Gwen did not look it in the eye. She concentrated on her aim, eyes sharp and focused. It took discipline to aim true.

“Honey,” said Gwen to the child, “you need to learn to play the game. No one is going to rise to the taunts of a hybrid—much less those of a little girl. You’ve got a lot to learn if you want to do more than rampage in this city.”

“But as you have just witnessed,” Gwen continued, “I am quite aware that you possess no self-control. That is why I have done something. One of our many resident hybrids is on her way now.”

Hopefully her last statement was indeed true. Gwen had not heard anyone reply on the guard’s radio, and the silence left her hanging in limbo. Was someone one their way? Though Gwen had a lot of respect for their allied hybrids, she had to admit that they weren’t perfect. While the guards and patrol soldiers were put through at least minimum training and drafted of the protocols, the hybrids sometimes seemed, for one reason or another, to be overlooked or somehow considered above such procedures. Perhaps their physical abilities were deemed sufficient for their role as protectors; though whether it was the guards or the hybrids themselves who did that judging, Gwen didn’t know. But if someone was coming, they should have radioed back. The fact that the colony’s security force was supplied with radios served to stress how important communication was; batteries and other power were only used when absolutely necessary.

The time that they waited for Vera stretched long and tense between the three. Gwen was careful to never let her concentration slip. Her hands didn’t shake.

Finally, the imposing figure of the female Russian hybrid appeared down the road. Gwen spotted her in her peripheral vision, and Jack’s reaction was enough to confirm that she was who they had been waiting for. Gwen did not lower her gun or take her eyes off her target until the hybrid had approached and spoke. Gwen flicked the safety back on her revolver and took her left hand off the handle, letting the gun fall to her side in her right.

This hybrid was decently human, for a mutant. She retained all the features that really mattered, which was enough for Gwen to overlook the abnormal height and green skin. Her face was the most important part. As long as it looked human (and appeared to operate like a human’s), Gwen could feel much more comfortable. Not that she planned to stick around long enough to test that, though.

After the guard spoke, Gwen turned toward him, a gleam in her eyes. “How dare you?” she asked quietly. “You come here, bringing this little threat into my back yard, and have the boldness to assert that I owe you something? On what grounds do you deserve anything from me?”

She crossed her arms, revolver still in hand. “If you can convince me,” she said, her voice ringing evenly and calmly, “I will tell you.”

If you were from around here, she thought, You’d probably already know who I am.

Jack shook his head. She really didn't get it, did she? "Max, the guard captain, is going to want to know as much about what happened here as possible, seeing how it involved two Hybrids. Having a name for you would help." He sighed, and rubbed his temples. The headache was back, the pounding ache that heralded the nightmares he'd no doubt be having tonight. He wasn't looking forward to that, or to the hangover of all hangovers that he'd be dealing with tomorrow morning.

"Besides," Jack added, "it's not like I'm the one that brought her here in the first place." He jerked his head in Rachel's direction. "According to Max, she came here like she was looking for trouble, and I volunteered to keep an eye on her. Things were going fine until she saw you, you drew your gun, and demanded that one of our Hybrids come to play babysitter. So the way I see it, at least, I was doing my job, and you interrupted. Now I'm going to have to explain just what the hell happened here so that it doesn't end up happening again, but knowing me and my luck, it probably will."

Jack sighed again, and looked up to the sky. "It's not even noon yet, and I already want to call it a day." He shook his head, and focused back onto Miss Hair-trigger. "So... name?" He asked. "Or are you just going to turn around and leave me to refer to you as 'the black-haired Jane Doe'?"

"No self control?" Rachel murmured, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She worked out a few kinks in her neck and folded her hands together, stretching her arms out in front of her with her palms forward. The girl grinned wryly and bared an inhuman set of teeth. "I am always in control." Her eyes regained its brilliant emerald shine, a signal that she was starting to get heated up again. The blood under her skin flushed with a tingling sensation as it carried the current of the hybrid mutation through her system and the feeling euphoria was the first that came to mind. She was getting hungry again and the thought of food - human or otherwise - was starting to grow incredibly tempting. However, suicide was not high on her priority list and attracting the attention of the local hybrids was not going to help in that regard so she'd have to keep it staved away for a while longer. "And if you're done making a fool of yourself, I'd suggest you put that little toy down. Anything short of a shotgun and you won't even have time to fire a second round."

The hybrid girl crammed her hands into her pockets again. "Or maybe you've never had to deal with a hybrid before?" Her eyes narrowed and her smile curved into a frown. Looks like the second one's come by to pick up on the show. That takes care of that, then. Seems as though she'll have to settle on the smaller group after all. In the seconds that followed, her state returned to normal and the feeling of slight irritation overtook her bloodthirsty fervor. Is this even about me anymore? she thought sourly. This isn't fucking funny at all. "Hey," Rachel said, snapping her fingers. "You want to deal with her, you can do it some other time. I'm really starting to lose my fucking patience standing here while you idiots yell and complain at each other. If it's not a problem, I'm going to go find something to eat. If one of you wants to follow me there, be my guest, but I'm done listening to this garbage." Yeah, nice choice of words, dumbass. I'm starving, sure, but talking like this isn't going to get me anywhere. What the hell am I even saying? She let out a light sigh. Whatever. I'll figure this out later.

The child hybrid’s further attempts to elicit a reaction from Gwen were met with silence. As Gwen had already made clear, she had no intention of listening to the child at all. So far, all it had only attempted to goad her. The more it tried that tactic, the more it would be faced with failure.

The child hybrid was right on one account, however: Gwen’s revolver possessed essentially no threat to the child. Gwen had been aware of this from the beginning, which was partially why she didn’t understand why the guard had interpreted it as such a threat. Honestly, she was surprised that someone hadn’t pointed it out sooner. Gwen was probably the least threatening person out of everyone in their little gathering.

Jack’s demands were bothering her, though. This wasn’t the pre-hunter period, when law enforcement kept detailed records of the citizens of its country. Why would he be so concerned about reporting this ‘incident’ to the head authority? Perhaps a note of the situation, to be sure; but it wasn't a big deal. No one had gotten hurt; no guns had been fired. She wasn’t breaking any laws; those hardly existed here, and the colony hardly even had any rules to break. She was operating on the trust system. She was protecting the people of the city, just as any of those people would protect her.

“It bothers me that you have a problem with citizens protecting themselves from threats,” Gwen said to Jack. “I don’t know how you think things work around here, but before you came here, no one was ever ‘reported’ for pointing a gun at a non-allied hybrid.”

She glanced over at the child hybrid, over whom Vera was now looming. “I felt that the situation was unsafe, because only a hybrid can hope to deal with another hybrid like this. If the child had actually wanted to kill me, you wouldn’t have been able to do a thing about it. She would have been on me before you had a chance to draw your gun.

“I have the same right as you do to ensure the safety of the people in this city when I perceive a threat. That’s the way we operate. If we didn’t trust each memory of this colony, this city wouldn’t have survived. Guards can’t be everywhere; you aren’t a pre-hunter military force.” Gwen shifted a steady glare back at Jack. “And you certainly don’t have rights over me in this situation.”

Gwen’s expression became less defensive. “Look, I’m sorry you feel like I’m such a pest. But before you accuse me of being uncooperative, however, let me say that I will be perfectly happy to work with you—as long as you stop acting like I’m an annoying smudge of shit you found on the bottom of your shoe. There is nothing that says my opinion shouldn't be given as much consideration as yours.”

How much longer would she have to stay here explaining herself to this man? The threat was dealt with; she could now trust that the colony was safe, at least from this particular mouthy little child. She would go once the guard let her.

“I’m Gwenneth,” she said shortly. “And not because you deserve to hear it.”

"I’m Gwenneth, and not because you deserve to hear it."

Jack blinked. Then he let out the breath that he'd apparently been holding in. His mind was in overdrive, thinking of possible responses, retorts, excuses. Anything that could get him out of what had become an extremely embarrassing situation. After a little bit of thought, he realized that most of those responses would only prolong the situation. There was really only one thing he could say.

Jack looked Gwen in the eyes. "Sorry." He shook his head. "For wasting your time, treating you like shit, misrepresenting this colony... Everything." He turned on his heel. "You're free to go, Gwenneth." Then, he walked away.

"... and that's what happened." Jack said, finishing his report.
Max nodded. "Good to know." He paused. "This'll be the last time you need to report to me." He said.
"So then I'm axed?" Jack asked.
Max shook his head. "No. I'm just done watching you." This surprised Jack.
"I'm still with the guards?" He asked.
Max nodded. "You learned from this, right?" Jack nodded. "Then there's no reason to boot you. And you've been here long enough that I don't need to keep an eye on you anymore."
Jack sighed in relief. "Thanks. I'll try to keep my antics to a minimum from now on." He stood, turned, and began to leave.
"Jack?" Max said.
Jack turned. "Sir?"
"Keep trying." He said. "You'll get there eventually."
Jack nodded. He dropped off his radio set, and wandered down the street towards his little home. Off duty with nothing to do. He thought.

He arrived home. It was a small, one story place near Kingston's northwestern wall. He opened the door, and entered the living room. He set his gun and knife on a low table, then sat down on the couch with the weapons before him. He looked at the weapons.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" He thought aloud. "I can't fight Hybrids with them, and Hybrids are what I'm supposed to be protecting this town from." Sighing, he laid down on the couch, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, exhaustion from having worked through the night caught up with him. He slipped into sleep.