Tybalt & Teon | Backdated to September 11

[om_thekingofcats]

Tybalt and Teon have a night on the town. That ends in a brawl.

 

After what had felt like a millennium or two of house arrest, Tybalt had more than just a little bit of cabin fever. He needed to get away from all things stuffy and rule bound. And he needed some company for it too. His new (ish. he should probably stop thinking of Teon like that) roommate made for an excellent choice in Tybalt's mind. One thing you couldn't call Teon was a stickler for rules. So who better to make an escape to New York with?

 

    Tybalt at least had taken the time to primp himself in typically vain fashion and looked neatly pressed in a white collared shirt and a pair of his trademark black leather pants. He also looked pleased enough to purr once they got in amongst the neon lights and high rise buildings. "Now this is more like it." He said as he pointed down a street littered with signs advertising bars and clubs. The night was at the perfect point to his mind. Late enough to have drawn out a crowd of revelers, early enough that there was still plenty of time to have some fun. "Now, let's find somewhere suitably seedy enough not to card." he declared cheerfully.

 

    Teon was much more simply dressed than his counterpart; a navy blue t-shirt and track pants were his choices of attire. However, Teon did at least have the good grace (and survival instinct) to not ape-walk about town; the moment they were in public outside of the school, Teon started walking perfectly upright, hands tucked in his waistband. He grinned a little bit at Tybalt's directions, looking around and taking in a deep breath, doing his best to get an idea for how this place smelled.

 

    It didn't smell particularly <i>good</i>, and it certainly didn't smell welcoming, but it was a city smell, and it wasn't a city that was on fire. Teon preferred his cities to be intact, if they had to be present at all. "Lead on?" he gestured ahead of them, figuring Tybalt would know 'seedy' well enough. It wasn't an English term Teon was particularly familiar with, and while he could guess the meaning, Tybalt was more likely to be familiar with levels of seediness present about an American city. When Tybalt suggested they go around and have a few drinks, Teon was a bit surprised to learn that it was supposed to happen on the down-low, and that they may be denied in some places. For Teon, it had always been a question of just asking his father, or walking to his uncle's, and having some vodka.

 

    If he'd thought this through, Tybalt would probably have made sure that Teon could do the biped thing before heading out. Oh well, that had worked out, so would everything else. Tybalt grinned and adjusted the sunglasses that covered his feline eyes. They and the hat covering his ears were at least some concession to subtlety. Somewhat undermined by the fang that grin flashed his friend. "This way then. That looks like a likely place." The place Tybalt pointed to was a pool hall. But judging by the group of teens he'd seen leaving, it'd do for their escapade. The inside was certainly seedy, a cluster of individually lit pool tables in a room otherwise made up of shadowy alcoves and a rough bar. Tybalt sauntered over and ordered some beers, throwing a beckoning gesture of his shoulder for Teon. He'd guessed correctly, they weren't carded. Though they were watched by both the barman and the other people in the room. But attention was fine as far as Tybalt was concerned.

 

    "A few drinks, then we find somewhere to dance. And who knows? Maybe some pleasant company if there's anyone interesting." Tybalt explained his plan. "Or are you the sex strictly for procreation type?" Tybalt hoped not, but given the whole primal thing Teon had going on, maybe the other boy was.

 

    "Drinks," Teon agreed, nodding. As to the question regarding sex, well, Teon had to admit that he hadn't given it much thought. He'd been preoccupied, previously, with other endeavors. School, before his enlightenment. Afterwards, survival. Now, it had been getting comfortable. Now was time to start branching out. Teon knew about sex, sure. He was never really certain if it was in the cards for him, though. He scratched the side of his head, thinking, and then he shrugged. "Would like to try," Teon said, grinning just a bit.

 

    "That's the spirit!" Tybalt definitely approved, and swept the freshly arrived beer up to toast Teon. That put him in a good mood, and he wasn't afraid to hide it. Which did mean another mutation-revealing grin. Not that Tybalt cared. Or noticed that there was at least one guy in the bar who'd spotted the fangs.

 

    Teon grinned and took up his beer as well, recognizing the gesture for a toast. Teon was vaguely aware of a heartbeat or two that quickened around them, somewhere in the area; it got lost in and among the others in the bar. But there were a million and one reasons for a heart rate to increase, and plenty of those reasons were likely found in a bar, so Teon took little notice of it, overall.

 

    He took a large gulp of his beer, licking his lips and smiling after his drink. "Good," he said, nodding.

 

    "Passable." Tybalt concurred in a pleased tone of voice. He wasn't going to lavish praise on a dive (even if he'd been in less classy places than he liked to pretend). That would clash with his suave demeanor.

 

    "Have you ever played pool?" He asked Teon and waved at the tables. That was really more of a spur of the moment piece of curiosity than a fully fuelled plan. But it did mean he wasn't looking at the door when a man cast a baleful look at the pair and slipped out.

 

    Teon missed it too, because he followed Tybalt's wave indicating the pool tables. Teon nodded. "Fun game," he said, grinning. He probably wasn't nearly as good at it as Tybalt was, but he was certainly willing to give it a go.

 

    "Well, if it look fun it's time to teach you." Especially since hustling tables worked better in pairs. But Tybalt would save explanations of how to work moneymaking schemes until after Teon knew how to play the game. He got them a table and racked up the balls. "We each have balls. Stripes or solids. You want to get yours in before I get mine in. And here's how you do it." Tybalt demonstrated a few shots while he explained the rest of the rules. Teaching Teon pool would also have the advantage of giving Tybalt another chance to try and suss out more about Teon's odd brand of idiot savant thinking.

 

    Teon observed, his brain quietly ticking away at what was unfolding in front of him. Once Tybalt paused, he wordlessly took up a cue, chalked it, and with the form and grace of a master, leaned down and aimed at the solid white ball. After only a half-second of assessing angles, Teon shot.

 

    The cue ball bounced off of a solid ball, which struck a striped ball, knocking it into the pocket, and ricocheted to another, striking a solid, which in turn struck a striped ball into the pocket, knocking the solid out of an advantageous position by his own estimation. The ball kept going, and knocked another striped ball into the corner pocket, and in went on to knock a solid ball into a solid, and then into a striped and into the pocket. The cue ball came to rest outside of any easy shots to solid balls that would sink them.

 

    Teon grinned to Tybalt. "Like that?"

 

    Though he might be a practiced dissembler, even Tybalt couldn't keep the impressed expression off his face. "Yes. Exactly like that." Even while he answered his fertile mind was already churning with possibilities. "Do that again." He said and pointed at the remaining stripes. "I think you and I are on the brink of a great deal of fun and profit."

 

    Fun was more of Teon's thing than profit, but he was more than happy to oblige, giving his cue a little more chalk. He scanned the table quickly, stalked to a side, and lined up his shot. There were only three striped balls left on the table, and he still had to sink the 8-ball, but once the stripes were all down, he could worry about that. He focused on the table for a half second, before striking the cue ball and sending it into a striped ball, sinking it as the solid white ball rolled across the table, knocking into one solid after another, which each struck another striped ball, sinking both of them near simultaneously in opposite pockets.

 

    With a flourish of his cue, Teon grinned to Tybalt, as the cue ball came to rest with a clear shot to the 8-ball, lined up straight for a pocket. "Still good?" Okay, Teon was enjoying showing off just a bit.

 

    "Perfect." Tybalt seemed even more catlike when his voice was a pleased half purr. Yes, this would do nicely. "Okay, last question. Can you make your shot look bad? Miss on purpose? But not too obviously." There was no point  in setting up a hustling scheme if they couldn't also look like easy marks.

 

    Teon shrugged. "Probably?" It was weird to think about. Wasn't the point, and the fun of a game, to win?

 

    "Try it." Tybalt encouraged him with a mod to the balls. "If you can, we can fool opponents. And a fool and his money are easily parted."

 

    Obviously, Teon wanted to make his roommate happy; he'd been kind enough to take him out around town and treat him to beer and a fun game. Teon chalked his cue again, before getting back into his shooter's stance, lining up a shot, and then thinking briefly about how to do it poorly. It was strange, and his brain didn't quite understand, but when he shot, the ball only slightly connected with the 8-ball, causing it to miss the pocket and the cue ball to knock into one of the solid balls, landing it closer to one of the pockets.

 

    Teon scrunched his face up a bit as he came up from his stance. "Like that?" he asked, sounding unsure.

 

    "Competent, but unimpressive. Perfect." Tybalt seemed extremely pleased with the shot. "If you want to play more of this, then I suggest we find another pool hall. Then I'll show you why playing poorly has advantages." Teon was the perfect hustling submarine. With his unique way of speaking there'd be plenty of people who would mistake him for a simpleton. This was going to be fun. Sadly, there were too many people here who'd seen those first shots. They'd have to change halls to hustle. That was fine. A stroll through the night with an amusing prize at the end sounded good. What could go wrong?

 

    Teon shrugged, putting his cue with the others on the rack. "Lead on?" Teon invited, gesturing. He figured going along with Tybalt's plan was for the best; Teon wasn't as keen as he was on this sort of thing, and he was certainly willing to learn from his roommate.

 

Tybalt was more than happy to take the lead. Once they were outside the bar, he was willing to start explaining his plan in detail. "So, in the next hall, we go and play a game. I will play normally, you play deliberately badly. Then, we challenge someone else to a game and-." Tybalt stopped, mid sentence. Something was off. He'd been on the street more than enough to have a sense of these things. Sure enough, people seemed to be clearing the street they were in. There was a group of men up ahead, with the kind of broad shoulders and rough expressions that spelled trouble. And oh, look at that. Another stepped out of the alley by the side of the bar they'd been in. "Wonderful." Tybalt muttered under his breath. Glancing over, he checked to see if Teon had noticed. And quietly missed having Toby here. With her he could've been sure she'd be ready to back a play.

 

    Very subtly, Teon's shoulders tensed at the sight of the group ahead, which was moving toward them. "Trouble," Teon murmured, only loud enough for Tybalt to really hear, and maybe not even then. Teon's senses kept him informed well enough of the positions of the ones he couldn't see; even the two coming in from behind, though they weren't at a threatening distance unless they had guns. Teon didn't smell gunpowder, though. That was a start. Teon's hands were open at his sides, his fingers relaxed, but subtly ready. Just like he'd learned in the self-defense lessons.

 

    "Awful dark for sunglasses, kid," one of the men at the head of the group declared, looking at Tybalt, expectantly.

 

    "Yes indeed." Tybalt muttered under his breath. He'd heard Teon and was pleased his roommate had a nose for the situation too. Still, Tybalt didn't like this situation one bit. Outnumbered, surrounded and flanked by an ally he couldn't judge well was less than optimal. Still, he stepped forwards with a cocky smirk for the lead man. "Really? Can't say I've noticed. So are you the local fashion police?"

 

    The men behind stepped in close, and any extra hope that they might not be hostile was ruined by the click of a pair of switchblades being affixed. It seemed that they'd put a pair of particularly nasty customers at Teon and Tybalt's back.

 

    Teon heard the knives as well, but didn't react. They would find out soon enough if he needed to take charge of the situation, just what he was capable of. His arms tensed just a bit.

 

    "Nah, but this here's Marauders territory, and Marauders don't like mutie freaks runnin' around with their freaky eyes and pool table wizard shit," the seeming speaker of the group announced. Teon took a few hesitant steps forward, following Tybalt back and to his left. Teon saw the moment the man's stance shifted, the foreshadowing of a thrown punch. He was already in motion by the time he was swinging. "The fuck out of our turf, mutie!" the man announced, but before he could get his fist halfway to Tybalt, Teon was there, scowling at the man.

 

    "No," Teon grunted. And he squeezed. Bones snapped in the man's fist audibly, and a choking scream of pain and surprise echoed through the street. Teon didn't waste any time. He pushed the man's arm back, before spinning (and audibly dislocating the man's shoulder), taking him away from Tybalt, and hurling the would-be fighter into the assailants that were coming from the rear, bowling them over. Still, there were too many, and in his spin he'd seen the flash of knives, pipes, chains, and other instruments of pain. "Run, Tybalt," Teon grunted, making sure the two he'd knocked over were going to stay down.

 

    Tybalt had been half way to bringing up a block to that punch when Teon stepped in. Proud though he might be, Tybalt was too impressed to complain. Once again Teon had displayed some interesting hidden talents. Still, even with three out of the fight, one of whom wasn't likely to be taking much further part, Tybalt didn't think he could just leave this to Teon alone. Though when he dived off to the side it looked like he might be doing just that. Except that Tybalt reappeared behind the front row of assailants and swept the feet out from under the one with the chains. "And miss out on all the fun?" He quipped wickedly.

 

    That had been useful, but the thugs seemed to be most focused on Teon still. Two turned to Tybalt, but the rest focused on the more obviously dangerous opponent.

 

    And for good reason; Teon was the stronger, faster, and as they would find out, tougher of the two. One of them swiped a pipe at Teon's head from behind, but he ducked, pushing back and up, knocking his foe back. He was improvising heavily, and it was starting to show. His self-defense classes hadn't really accounted for mob combat, and with five on him and two in the process of recovering, Teon was getting swarmed. But he was starting to figure out how little that actually mattered against baseline humans. It just meant he had to fight rougher if he didn't want to risk unconsciousness.

 

    "This guy's a freak!" One of them shouted, watching a knife-wound on Teon's arm close rapidly. Teon crushed the offender's wrist, making him drop the knife, and kicked him back and out of the fight; he doubted he'd want to continue. The others were redoubling their efforts, obviously not wanting to give their target a chance to heal. Teon was doing his best, but in the thick of it like he was, it was hard to get in a good swing or a throw. It wasn't until he took a pipe across the back of his shoulders that he realized he was thinking in too few dimensions. He crouched and then leaped into the air, bringing his knee into someone's nose and teeth, sending them to the ground as he escaped the melee, even though it quickly began to re-form around him. But much more hesitantly. Too focused on those in front of him, he wasn't aware of one that was desperate enough to be pulling a gun from under his jacket.

 

    If Teon was going to be the frontline, then Tybalt was okay with that. He made sure the one he'd tripped up stayed down with a boot to the head. Then the two facing him came in, brass knuckles and pipes swinging. Tybalt was forced to backpedal to avoid them. As he did though, he pulled a knife of his own from behind his back. He hadn't gone looking for trouble tonight, but Tybalt was definitely prepared for it. For now he was mostly just leading them away from the circle around Teon and concentrating on keeping his own skin intact.

 

    Being defensive became a lot less important when Tybalt spotted the guy pulling the gun. he dived back into one of the street's shadows with an athletic flip. That left the two who'd been attacking bewildered and momentarily too far to take part in the fight. The young mutant reappeared with his knife sinking into the gunman's back. Tybalt didn't think that injury would be fatal, but he didn't much care. What he lacked for in strength relative to Teon he made up in ruthlessness. "The freak has a friend." He growled, and picked up the fallen gun. Until his two former opponents caught up, it was four standing against two, and Tybalt looked like he'd be quite willing to use the gun.

 

    "Shit!" The would-be gunman screamed from the knife-wound in his back, clearly unaccustomed to that amount of pain. "Shit, shit!" he shouted, seeing Tybalt scoop up the handgun, running off. One of the others seemed to have noticed, as well.

 

    "The other freak's got Ron's piece!" One of them shouted, making a break for it, giving Teon more room to breathe. Teon's elbow made another's head whip to the side, rendering the recipient unconscious before he even hit the ground. That seemed to convince the others to start beating feet as well, leaving their comrades squirming or unconscious from their injuries. Teon turned to Tybalt, making sure that he was safe, before jogging toward him. "Need to run," Teon said, urgently. Someone surely had seen or heard all of that unfold and would likely be calling the police...

 

    "In a moment." Tybalt agreed. but he was giving one of the still conscious thugs and evil look. And fingering his newly acquired gun like he was considering using it. "Nicely done by the way." he remarked to Teon. "That was pretty impressive."

 

    Then Tybalt seemed to remember that they should leave. And that he shouldn't hurt people already out of the fight. "This way." he said, and waved towards....a wall? "I know a shortcut." With a grin Tybalt held out a hand to Teon.

 

    Tybalt probably didn't notice, but Teon tensed when he noticed Tybalt contemplating the gun and the injured man. But when Tybalt offered his hand, Teon accepted it anyway, familiar with Tybalt's abilities, at least to some degree.

 

    "Hold your breath and keep your calm." Tybalt admonished. They were in the same squad, but Tybalt avoided teleporting other people whenever he could. It wasn't exactly fun. There wasn't much hesitation this time when he pulled the two of them into the shadow. There was a long moment of utterly miserable freezing cold and total no-light-has-ever-existed darkness as they passed through. And then they burst back out into an alleyway somewhere else in the city.

 

    "And now.....give me a moment." Tybalt gasped and leaned against the alley wall. It seemed like that had really taken it out of him.

 

    Teon held his breath and kept calm as instructed; it was remarkably easy. This was certainly colder than a Ukrainian winter, but nothing his healing factor couldn't handle. Teon nodded at Tybalt's request, casting a quick glimpse around, determining it was safe. He put one hand against Tybalt's back, steadying him, and looked Tybalt over, wondering if he still had the gun. In the confusion of teleporting, Teon wasn't certain if it was around, and his nostrils were raw from healing, for the moment.

 

    The gun was still in Tybalt's left hand. He hadn't dropped it, but wasn't paying it a lot of attention. "We're blocks away from the trouble. And when I've recovered we'll do that again. Relax." Tybalt managed a crooked grin. "That wasn't the kind of fun I had planned for tonight."

 

    Teon spotted the firearm, glanced at it, and then look Tybalt directly in the eye. "Gun," Teon said, opening his hand and holding it out so that Tybalt could give it to him. "I break," Teon explained. He wasn't going to let Tybalt endanger his stay at the school by bringing a gun home with him, and he wasn't going to let it stay on the streets as a viable weapon.

 

    Tybalt looked down at the gun and then up at Teon. He didn't immediately hand it over. " You know, I almost feel a trophy like this may be warranted." He mused a touch defiantly. Then he thought better of making an issue of this and handed the gun over. "Guns have no class anyway."

 

    All Teon wanted to do was render it useless. He took the gun from Tybalt, grimaced, and went to work, his brain analyzing how all the parts went together. He ejected the clip, emptied the chamber, and despite his lack of tools, stripped the thing down to its barest parts, taking a part off, bending it out of shape, and then discarding it into a nearby dumpster. He dusted his hands off when he discarded the last piece. "Done," he said, nodding.

 

    "If you'd dropped that in the sewer it probably would have been just as out of commission." Tybalt pointed out. But he shrugged and moved on. "Okay, I can manage another jump now. Unless there are any other things you want to break before we go home?"

 

    "Too risky," Teon said, about the gun. In regards to the jump towards home, however, Teon was more positive, and grinned. "No breaking. Home now."

 

 

"You were tearing men apart with your bare hands and you think the GUN is risky?" Tybalt laughed cheerfully and clapped Teon on the shoulder. "That's perfect. Now let's go. Toasting our victory with soda from the fridge isn't usually how I celebrate a win, but it'll do." Tybalt pulled the, back into the shadows. And actually resolved to try and avoid further trouble for that night.