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“Man I’m so f**king tired, and I’m hungry. Wonder what Gran Gran is making for dinner tonight?” Rukkora thought aloud mesmerized by the numerous dishes his Grandmother could prepare. “Damn I could really go for some fish right now. Yeah that’d sure hit the spot.” The boy muttered as he left a small trail of saliva behind him. Growing hungrier and hungrier as each step shortened his trek home. He didn’t realize that he’d taken an unusual route through the rougher part of the city. “Oh shit. I did it again, I’ve gotten myself lost.” The boy circled in place familiarizing himself with the environment.
The housing and shops were few and far in this area, but the “friendly” crowds were bountiful. But, not all hope was loss as he spotted a hole in the wall nightclub, with patrons lining up for entry. “I have a really bad feeling about this.” He sulked his way to the front of the line. His abrupt appearance creating a ruckus among the masses. “WHATS THE BIG IDEA YOU LITTLE SHIT!” One of the adult shouted from deep within the line. He could care less about how they felt, it was starting to get late. Even though they were none the wiser Rukkora couldn’t afford to miss curfew, not again. Last time his Grandmother bailed him out, but he had his suspicions about this go round.
The young man flipped the bird to the crowd, as he approached the two doormen. He stood opposite the side of the line to stay out of their way. The club wasn’t really his scene anyway, especially not after hearing the numerous incidents that happen at these joints. “Say fellas my bad for butting. I’m just trying to figure out how to get to Midtown from here.” The one closest to the line had a peculiar accent, it hinted that he wasn’t of Saiyan origin. “No problem pal. You’re gonna want to follow this street, I’d say about two or three block, make a right for about another two blocks, and you should be home free.” He directed with his hands which was funny, as he nudged Rukkora’s shoulder.
“Thanks. Appreciate it man.” He went on his way from the club, as the doormen called out to him. “You be careful kid! There are crazies out at this time!” He cupped his hands to make his voice carry, even though Rukkora hadn’t gotten that far. He was sure he made his partners ears ring from his full-throated announcement. He walked with vigor hoping to beat his curfew, and tried to pay no mind to the roughnecks hanging around in the upcoming alley. He continued onward in hopes they didn’t notice him, but of course he inadvertently made eye contact with one of them.
“Shit.” He whispered as he kept on going, but could hear the footsteps of three, no five, more than five? “Man I’m not in the mood to fight. This is not the day I swear!” He murmured resisting the urge to turn around in fear he’d be met with some kind of object to the head. He’d passed the second block which meant, his turn was coming soon, but it appeared the only turn was down an alley. “No way did that prick set me up. That’s what I f**king get always giving people the benefit of the doubt.” He cursed below his breath, before winding the corner to see a familiar sight.
“It’s Uncle’s favorite pastry shop! Well now I feel bad, but this I’m still in a sticky situation. As he eased his way down the alleyway he still heard footsteps, but there were few than what he heard before. This time he took a chance to look back and his presumptions were correct. They were going for a pincer attack, the boy only had maybe an hour to spare before curfew. “Alright guys listen. I don’t want any trouble why can’t we just get along. Look just let me go home, I’ve got nothing you want anyway.” He chuckled nervously but it was obvious they weren’t having that. “I see y’all want to fight, but I’ll beat the shit out of each and every one of you. No cap.” He pointed as he dropped his knapsack and got ready for an attack.
Things had been going, questionable, for Gelus for the last months or so, after shovelling a knife into what had been his boss and father-figure throat less then a year ago, he'd been attempting to cope as best he could. He managed, taking up jobs he was less then proud of, but at least the targets this time seemed like terrible people who probably wouldn't be missed. He'd been hiding since the murder his father Tomarla, who'd been found dead in his own bed, killed with his own favourite knife. Gelus would be suspected if anyone knew he actually existed, but Tomarla had done a good job of keeping him hidden theses past twenty four years. Not liked he's ever be missed through, he was a terrible person, saying his was better off dead was an understatement.
Gelus had been living on the streets for a while, taking shit and buying cheap hotel rooms off the money he'd either stolen or gotten from his kills. He didn't stay in one place for long and was quick to leave as soon as he felt people started getting suspicious of him or what he may of been doing. His snow white hair and large, blue horns didn't help with this either, though he tended to wear lays upon layers of black to keep himself covered, a mask and a hood, and despite being part Sayian, was wasn't as notable as his demon traits, and Gelus was aware of the biased that came with that naturally.
The hybrid had been minding his own business around this time of night, jumping across different city building in attempt to try and track down a certain target he'd been assigned. He hated this job, he fucking couldn't stand it, but he felt there was nothing else he could go back to despite the terrible memories that would come with this, but at least he could choose whose life he took for once. The guy was some form of Sayian, or at least the black hair and tall build gave the impression, he was a drug dealer and was seemly threatening people, even his family, who didn't give him want he wanted in time. He was unstable, and his people felt it was only a small amount of time before he snapped, so, Gelus would be the one to take the job and taje him out.
As he jumped down to a smaller building, he could help but wince a bit at the booming nightclub that sat afar from him, Gelus's quiet nature. finding loud sounds all to irritating. But, this wasn't his job, and he turned to continue onwards when he spotted some kid, probably around his height, sent coming down the alleyway he stood over.. People followed behind him..
..It was a trap.
Gelus frowned, despite most of his face being covered by this mask, this was known of his business. He doesn't care, he shouldn't care, yet all he could do was mentally shit himself as he found himself trailing the group and the boy for above. ...He could't just leave this kid with theses thugs could he? He was a thief, and a murdered, and just was bad as the man before him, so why did he care so much? This was self projection wasn't it? He'd been that stupid teen in the alley before..
He would continue to follow them till the kid started to talk up, and Gelus came to a stop, removing a small throwing knives from his belt. With little to no effort he throw the blades down, edging only a few steps away from one of the men. His made himself known, voice cold and stern, but not loud.
"...I'm giving all of you fuckers 30 seconds to get out of here before I start getting nasty, normally I don't waste my time with lowlifes such as yourself, but I'm feeling bored today, so entertain me or piss off." He was trying, to sound scary here.
Just as the gang was ready to pounce on Rukkora, six knives burrowed beneath the soil around him, three to each side. “Great. As if I didn’t already have enough problems.” He thought to himself, taking notice just like the masses of his savior above, perched on the ledge. “This guy comes straight out a comic book.” Rukkora cringed at the sound his voice carried through the alleyway, but it only seemed to piss this gang off more than Rukkora did. “Hey Shit for Brains. Where do you get off telling us what to do huh? You wanna come down here and say that to our faces? Cause if you don’t, you’d best be on your way, or you can wait your turn and we’ll get right to you.”
One of the gang members grabbed Rukkora by his collar pinning him against the wall, “Hey c’mon fellas! No hard feelings, right?! I was only kidding about fighting you guys!” He tried to joke himself out of the situation, laughing uncontrollably thanks to his anxiety. Until his laughter was halted by a fist driven deep into his abdomen, “SHIT!” Was all he was able to say as his head dropped into his chest. He salivated just a little from getting the wind knocked out of him. “YOU KNOW HELPING NOW WOULD BE NICE!” He shouted before his gut was met by a stray knee. “Keep it down. We’ll make this quick!”
The boy struggled to break free, but they only better secured his grip. “Just let me go you shithead! What could I possibly have that’d you want!” He looked at the supposed leader of this troupe, and grimaced at the sight of his ugly mug. “Oh. On the contrary big fella. You have exactly what we want in that knapsack of yours.” He smiled wide showing off the numerous missing teeth, which allowed the stench of his breath to seep through. “You know what I think I do have some breath mints in there. How about you have one, matter of fact, just take the whole damn bottle.” Rukkora chuckled trying to remain cool in the situation. The leader opened up the knapsack to reveal, that it had been filled with narcotics alongside his personal things.
“HEY WAIT! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!” He shouted aloud, this time he was met with a fist to his jaw.
...Gelus would give a gulp, well fuck that didn't work very well did it? So much for this shitty, antihero bullcrap if he can't move keep his voice from wavering every five minutes. Though the assassin stopped worrying about his questionable attempt to sound threatening and more on what the street thugs where doing to the teen as they wrestled him around like a rag doll. Gelus guessed maybe he'd being able to take care of this mess by himself if it was just one, but hell no, not five of the them, Gelus had to do something.
He bit his tongue as he removed his gun from his back, readying the rifle in a quick and study pace as he kneeled down.
BANG.
Thee sound of the energy automatic fired off, straight into what had been the leader's head, only inches away from what was poor Rukkora's head, blood splattering against him and the wall behind him. Yeah, yikes, those would leave stains. With the main man down, Gelus hoped that'd cause some form of panic as he jumped down, ripping the cloak off to reveal a long mane of white hair and and slender blue horns that sprouted from his head, the left one so damaged it had nearly chipped off This wasn't an attempt to look cool as it was scary. Personally, Gelus had no fucking idea how these men saw demons, but he hoped it was triggered some form of fear.
As he attempted to put himself between the street rats and the other Sayain he pointed the gunblade at the other folk. "D-D..." Fuck he was stuttering again, he gave a cough as he hissed, trying. "Do.. I need to make myself any more clear?" His said, his tone cold and lifeless as per usual. "Your boss is dead, h-his brains is leaking out into the pavement as we speak, do I need to go any further or should I just gun you all down just like him? I do this job in my downtown, killing all of you would be like removing an old piece of used gun from the back of foot." He frowned, attempting to sound, well, scary? Brooding? Well, just something by this point.
All he could do was keep holding himself up despite being smaller and slimmer then most of them here, but he still had the upper stand, much experience, and also well, a gun.. Well.. Two guns, but he's hoping he doesn't have to use the second please..
“Holy shit, He just killed Kōn! That motherfucker just killed Kōn!” The sudden death of their leader stirred the thugs into a frenzy. “Holy shit you killed him! Great fucking shot, how’d you know you weren’t going to hit me?” Rukkaro asked such a risky question. Who’s to say the stranger didn’t accidentally mean to shoot him, or maybe even just take the both of them out. While most of the thugs were still shocked in awe, only one of them still remained cool and collected. “What the fuck are you guys doing! You know the rules! When one head is removed two more grow! You gonna let this clown make a fool of us?!” One of the thugs stepped up in an attempt to rally the gang.
“Hell no!” They all said in unison. “Then let’s hurry up and kill these motherfuckers, and get these drugs back to the boss” He shouted as they all surrounded the hooded stranger, who’d left his perch in an attempt to increase his intimidation factor. Except, well while he had the look down for intimidation. Apparently, persuasive communication wasn’t his strong suit. “Wait. Is this mother f**ker stuttering? AHAHAHA!” He couldn’t help laughing at the man who’d just killed their leader, which was pretty ironic given the situation they were in. Rukkaro sighed as he still was bonded to the wall, “Man this guy doesn’t know one thing about scare tactics I see.” He took a quick glance at his would-be hero, with a broken horn protruding from his head.
“Ouch. That must suck man.” He muttered before he felt a very sharp pain in his abdomen, and he looked down to see he’d been stabbed. The assailant was the roughneck who stepped up in the leaders' place. “Don’t think we forgot about you, pretty boy. We’ll get back right with you.” The man slapped his face as he left the sharp dagger like object logged in his stomach. “AAAAH SHIT!” The pain was beginning to set in, when he tried to break free of their grasp. One by one each of the thugs pounced at the one horned stranger, but could he really hold them all off. To be honest though that was the least of Rukkaros’ worries. He was grateful for the rescue, but it wouldn’t set right on his conscious if someone was killed on his behalf. ” Man. This shit is gonna fucking hurt.
The young man managed to break free from their grasp, despite is fresh stab wound. Rukkaro gathered his ki illuminating the entire alleyway, possibly the whole district, before multiple beams shot from his body in all directions. The young man unintentionally killed the two scoundrels that held him captive. While fatally injuring and/or rendering the rest of them unconscious. They all scurried like roaches when the lights came on, and Rukkaro couldn’t help but laugh his ass off. Well, until he fell over in pain forgetting all about the dagger in his stomach. “SON OF A BITCH!!! OOOOOWWWWWWWW! THIS SHIT HURRRRRRRTSSSSSSS!”
Gelus was thankful when the group of men seemed to share enough brain cells to stand back after blowing his boss's head off. Though the moment was completely turn to shit when one of the more smug members refused to stand down. Well fuck, the hybrid couldn't help but curse under breath as his grip tightened on the other gunblade that was hidden beneath his coat, hanging from his belt.
Unsurprisingly, Gelus was given nothing more then a group's worth of mockery for his stutter, nothing he hadn't heard before. Almost a pint of anger brewed in him but by the end of it, all he could do was keep his mouth shut and eyes narrow. Gelus suspected most trained killers or warriors lived a better life the him, and that both didn't spend most of there being threaten or held at gun point toll they gotten the kill right the first time. It really didn't help when Rukkora brought up his missing horn. He just gritted his teeth and continued to stand back more till they attacked.
The demonic couldn't help but mentally panicked a bit as they'd manage to get pass him, stabbing the young man and starting to surround him, if I'd not being for Rukkora's light show things may have been a lot messier as the men who'd manage to live attempted to scatter. Gelus closed his eyes and staggered back a bit as the blasts went off, bright lights not his most favourable thing. When managing to get himself back on his feet steadily, he took no time in shoot any who'd still manage to live, whether they'd be on the ground or attempting to get away, dead, know this really was a fucking bloody mess.
Gelus frowned as Rukkora's wound came into note again as he walked over, kneeling down. Yikes.. This didn't look good... But he'd only being worse if he didn't do anything. "...F-Forgive me for the pain but here.. But just..." He'd tear a large amount of fabric off his cape, placing it aside as he put one hand on Rukkora's shoulder and the other on the knife.
Without hesitation he ripped it out fast and clean.
I'd probably hurt like a bitch, of course it would, but compared to the agony of leaving it in there for a long period of time, which was so, so much worse. He was quick to well the black fabric and press hard on the man's stab wound. "..More pressure, less beelding..." He'd mutter to the boy. Gelus had all but to much experience on how to deal wounds, leaning how to from a young or simply die bleeding. "...We need to get you to a hospital.." He frowned, looking at the wound.
“GAH!!! DAMMIT!!!” He winced in pain at the sudden removal of the blade. “Woo shit that hurt!” He whined some more, as he pressed on the wound in order to stop the bleeding. “Oh yeah. Sure that makes sense.” His eyes wandered about looking for his knapsack, “Nngh. Looks like they got what they were looking for. Bastards, I don’t even know how that stuff got in my bag.” He explained to the stranger, pondering on when could the narcotics came in his position. He’d heard of the many illegal substances that had started circulating through the Sadal populous, but he’d never actually came in contract with any. Rumors circulated that they were being peddled from the upper quadrant, into the lower sectors of the Capital.
Rukkora’s savior dictated they needed to get to a hospital, but they definitely wouldn’t be able to help him in time. “Nah. Hospital is no good. My Grandparents were medics in the military, take me to my house they can patch me up there.” The boy insisted they go to his home instead where he could receive immediate assistance. “I know the way from here we’re not that far actually. You mind giving me a hand?” He asked while pressing harder on the blood soak piece of cloth ripped from his cloak. Rukkora could only imagine the things his Uncle would say. He had an idea of his colorful vocabulary being used, but anything he said would come from him being shitfaced drunk.
‘Say I never got your name man. I’m Rukkaro, and you are?’ He reached for the strangers’ hand, in order to get to his feet. When he surveyed his rescuer, he couldn’t help but stare at his broken horn. It didn’t help that he was pretty bad at speaking aloud, but he wasn’t sure if his horn was also a sensitive topic. So he tried to avert his eyes and focus his attention elsewhere. That was when he noticed the storm clouds overhead. “F**k I just washed my hair yesterday.” He mumbled.
Gelus's pointed ears shot back a bit as the young man continued to cry out a bit, though he didn't really blame the kid, the wound look liked it hurt pretty badly and Rukkora was doing really well compared to others he'd seen with similar injuries before hand. As he pointed out the drugs Gelus quickly snapped his head back to glance at them. "I-I have seen people being used as drug mules.." Gelus started. "But, never like this, there always apart of the plan or in on it, I have no idea what this men where doing." He really had seen anything like, it, what the hell where this men trying to achieve smuggling shit into a random kid like this?
Rukkora not wanting to go the hospital was surprising for Gelus himself, not in emotion but just pure jump of logic, but, whatever. "Um.. Well.. If it's want you say, then sure." Gelus agreed, not one to judge the kid's choices, he was only helping before, not direction or controlling, besides he has said his grandparents where medics, to it's not like this was a complete mess of a situation after all. "If you give me directions, yes, I can get you there." He said calmly.
Names was something that made him freeze up a bit, shit, what was he going to say here? It's not like he knew em that well right? And he was never going to see this kid agian, so maybe it wouldn't hurt. "I am... Gelus... It's is less then conventional at this point to say nice to meet you but, I w-wish I could..." He replied softly, taking Rukkora's hand and pulling him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder just in case. He all but ignored the kid's staring at his horn, a story either never to be told, or for a another day, when Rukkora was maybe not bleeding out, though he eventually look away, bring the weather up. "Yes well, between getting wet, or, dying due to blood loss, I would hope you'd pick the first option.." He frowned, starting to walk him down the street, out of the alley.
“I hate getting my hair wet man. Nngh. It’s so hard to manage when it gets wet dude. This look isn’t as easy as it seems to pull off.” He boasted while he limped and hobbled, with Gelus at his hip. He was grateful that he’d offered to help him get home. He wasn’t sure if many other people would have gotten involved. There was something peculiar about this guy, which intrigued Rukkaro, of course he could make friends with just about anyone. He had this gift for reading peoples auras and spirit that let him know what kind of person someone was.
“We’re going to turn right out of this alley, go down one block, and make a left the third building on our right will be my house.” He delegated the directions for what usually was a ten minute walk, as it became a forty-five minute one due to complications. “Nngh this stings man,” he said while pressing harder against the wound. “Not to say I’m not thankful for the rescue back there, but I’m curious as to what made you stop and help me. Especially in a dangerous situation like that? You got a death wish or something.” Rukkora probed Gelus not expecting an in depth answer, or any answer for that matter, but so far he knew he wasn’t much of a talker.
“I don’t mean to get all in your business y’know. I just never expected anybody to stick their neck out for someone like me.” His face went stale thinking of all the people who’d probably turn their back on him. “Tch. Anyway whatever your reason I want to say thank you. I know I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you.” He expressed his gratitude while struggling to keep himself upright. His clothes sopping wet from the rain, weighing down his body, forcing him to use all but the little bit of strength he had left. “Oh man, Gran Gran you’ll never believe it! I’m late for curfew because I was mugged.” He sarcastically laughed it off, even if it did cause a bit of pain.
"Better.. Then dying thought." Gelus rehashed, rather confused on why he'd cared so much about something as trivial as hair. Gelus never really cared about looks, hell, he could give less then ten shits about his, probably why it was so long and wild in the first place, he'd never bother to cut it throughout most of his life. "And hair can replaced, people cannot." He frowned as he kept holding into Rukkora mentally baffled at this entire process of looks 'n' such.
As Rukkora give directions he stopped for a minute to listen into everything carefully before he started to take off agian slowly, listening well was once thing, but being able to remember something by heart that fast was a skill few people where born with, and something Gelus took forever to even pick up on but, he eventually got there. As the younger man wondered why he helped Rukkora, that was a tough question in itself, but I'd be rude if he didn't try to answer. "I saw..." He paused for a moment, trying to form words. "I have been.. In a situation similar to you before... Wanted a happier ending this time, no one helped me, so..." His voice loosened at the end, but he hoped Rukkora would just take what he got for know and not poke further. "I can defend myself fine, my job is to well... Let's say I've handle worse.." Hes shrugged, his face blank as per usual. He knew theses answers where probably vague and annoying for Rukkora but he wasn't few open to the idea of letting the kid know he was a murderer of all things.
"Um.. Y-Your welcome? Rukkora..." He muttered, honestly not knowing how to deal with actually being thanked for once, he'd never gotten this kinda shit in his life and he couldn't but wander why Rukkora was doing it.
Gelus insisted his hair wasn’t a big deal, but he was one to talk. “I just rather look good while I’m still alive, ever heard the phrase ‘casket sharp’.” The young Saiyan joked as they rounded the bend, and reached the front of his building. Gelus wasn’t as silent as his looks played him out to be, and his suspicions were right about the one horned fella. He mentioned his job involved with dealing with much more threatening derelicts, which peaked Rukkaro’s interest even though it was a bit cryptic. “Oh yeah so I guess I didn’t have to strain my body back there then did I? I should have let you take‘em all out in one swift motion eh?” The boy sarcastically prodded Gelus. “Well this is the place there’s an elevator inside that it’ll take us up to my Grandparents.” He tilted his head upwards directing Gelus’ attention to the seventeenth floor. “It’s a short ride and then my Grandparents we’ll patch me up, way faster than the damn hospital and their stupid ass waiting rooms.” He grunted holding tight to his side, “If it’s all the same to you I don’t think I want to keep leaking out here on the pavement.” He lightheartedly said while somehow keeping a cheeky attitude. “Nngh. It’s starting to get worse…e-everything…l-looks blurry…” The boy fell unconscious losing his grip around Gelus’ shoulder.
Gelus just blinked when Rukkora just kept going on, which probably wasn't the best due to how much blood his was losing it was keeping him conscious outta all things. "Well, depends on how you die.." Gelus frowned behind the mask. "If you die in a f-fire... They may be nothing to bury.." He simply put, no caring or even releasing the morbidity of his speech or not even seeming to care.
When Rukkora started bring up sarcasm he really was starting to become hard to understand for him, he never understood jokes when his father told them and he ever did know, his face simply shifting confusion. "Um... Well maybe If I have been fast enough, maybe.." He said softly, a bit disappointed in the fact he wasn't close enough to kill them all and save the guy before someone implanted a bloody knife into him. As Rukkora explained he nod and listen as he helped the guy hobble in, the younger man really looking worse for ware. Things become really bad when Rukkora when out cold, Gelus shaking him a bit before he realised he needed to get up there and fast. He'd well, cradled Rukkora, despite Gelus the smaller one, he'd manage as he started to carry him inside in a mental panic.
He'd rush inside the elevator, pushing the button quickly as the ride seemed way to slow for his own good as he finally rushed and knocked on the door, hoping to to god I'd open.
...From anyone who'd open the door, a strange demon-like man with long white hair, a broken horn in a trench coat would be holding a young man of colour in his arms, who'd seem to be bleeding quite badly, neither of them seemed happy.
"...P-Please help him.." The white haired man would say.
Rukkora’s grandfather stared watching the clock until it beeped, notifying that it was a new hour. The hour when Rukkora was supposed to be home. The hour that the boy’s grandfather warned him about, the hour he never wanted to not be home for. The grizzly old man raised from his and made his way into the kitchen. His nostrils were overun the moment he stepped in by an amazing aroma from a delicious meal she prepared. While the smell of the food was tantalizing, the sight of his grandon being absent made his mood unsavory to say the least. That was until a peculiar rapping at the door could be heard, “That boy.” The old man grumbled as he shuffled to the front door.
“Rukkaro you’d better have a good expla-” He paused at the sight of a young man in sopping wet garb, and his distinguishing horn. His grandchild holding tightly around the stranger, who supported him even while unconscious. Rukkoras’ hand pressing lightly against the center of a large stain of red, the stain slowly spreading across his midsection. “Good grief! Bring my grandson in please, hurry we shouldn’t dilly dally.” He motioned Gelus to step inside the home while he scampered away with his cane in hand. “Baga! Rukkora needs help please aid him while I gather the tools!”
The elders’ wife emerged from the kitchen to meet Gelus and Rukkaro. She took a pair of scissors from her back pocket, and cut vertically towards her grandchilds’ chin. “Okay this will need to be disinfected, and it doesn’t look too bad. Not yet at least.” She reached into her right breast pocket where she kept a fast-acting disinfectant spray. The boys grandfather returned just a moment after, and kneeled beside his wife as he removed a few tools from a black bag. “Thank you for bringing him to us son. We can take this from here If you don’t mind. It will only take us a moment. Please make yourself at home.”
Gelus's stunted face would become a bit more blank as the old man opened the door, seeing his face going from annoyed to shocked. At least he got the message? Gelus's frown still stuck as he took the unconscious boy inside, following orders she scramble inside out of the wet rain. He was quick to try and place Rukkora on the ground but let his grandmother finished her work before he really started touching anything. He tilted his head as she sprayed something but didn't question methods, Gelus new basic first aid but he wasn't a doctor and wasn't one to judge, ever. "He was... Stabbed in the stomach... By a group of thugs, there not uh.. A p-problem anymore, but I'm worried, he's still lost a lot of blood." Gelus explained, still trying to find a way to be helpful even if he couldn't exactly patch the other young man up by this point.
As they spoke medical terms, something Gelus had maybe the slightest idea of, he couldn't help but look confused as the older Sayian addressed him. Make himself at home? He was anything but puzzled and unaware of this kindness he'd been offered before, he'd never seen it in his life and it's entire concept made something stir inside... Whatever the hell it was...
Um, well, at his old "house" he was already to remove items of clothing such as the mask, maybe theses same orders applied to that? Gelus just blinked a moment before nodding and pulling his black cover off, revealing rather youthful, sharp features and cold blue eyes that held tired bags under them, the man looked terrible. He'd remove his cloak, or at least tie it around his waist to get it out of the way as he walked back over to Rukkora and knelled down. He seemed keen on watching Rukkora intensely, almost like some subconscious form of worry washed over him, theses where actions Gleus himself just couldn't explain but they came naturally and he wasn't going to question them, even if they made him extremely uncomfortable if he was being honest.
"I am.. Gelus..." He muttered, sitting beside the grandparents.
“I can tell you have a gentle soul,” Baga smiled not taking her eyes off of Rukkora who still whimpered in pain. “Yes. Not a lot of punks around here would help a fella in need. Still stuck on the narrative that a Saiyan is only meant to look after himself. I can’t say I blame them when shit like this happens, but I can also see your more than just a Saiyan.” Bas spoke figuratively and literally for Gelus’ case. “You’re alright by me though young man, you got my Grandson out of harm’s way. For that I am thankful."
A few moments went by and Rukkoras' grandparents seemed to be finished up with his wound. Rukkora awoke shortly after, the boy let out a weak groan. He beckoned Gelus over to the couch where his grandparents left him. "Nngh. Still kinda stings a bit, but I feel a lot better. Yo man thanks again, would have been shit out of luck if you didn't show up back there." He would reach out to shake hands with Gelus as a sign of good faith. "I owe you one for sure. If you ever need anything you know where to find me."
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Last Edit: Feb 16, 2019 14:45:47 GMT -5 by Rukkora
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