Prologue | A Grand Opportunity, Part I: The Deal

[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] Serine City, Amino Island Spring I can't take it anymore. I really, really can't. Oliver Stanway: Male of eighteen years; the "Long Arm" of Amino Island. Oliver, a young man, who in his short, yet eventful life, has made something of a name for himself in Black Market trade. Unfortunately, it is an occupation forced upon him by the notorious Billy "Old Boy" Toulson, local Crime Lord of Serine City's eastern district. Although on the outside it seems that the two share an average "employer-employee" relationship, it only masks a web of spite and grief that has plagued each and every day of Oliver's recent life. Over the past eight years Oliver has sacrificed any sort of childhood for the good of his family, and has received nothing in return. As the young man man looked off over the edge of his perch, he contemplated what he had to live for in this life. Clearly his father and mother were out of the question, and Billy? Hell, Billy could die in the next second and not a single tear would trickle down Oliver's soot-caked face. So then what? What ties did he have to this world? Money came sporadically, and the fame he garnered over the years clearly wasn't enough to herald any sort of rebellion against Billy and his thugs. Oliver, in the grand scheme of things, meant very little. With that last thought, the young man let out a heavy sigh. But, hell, what can you do? Oliver's weight shifted in an instant, and his body was now sailing towards the crowded streets below. A small smile crept across his withered face, and his arms spread as a hawk's wings might while soaring through the sky. The next set of movements were nearly flawless: his right arm shot towards his back and took hold of a metal chain that wrapped around his hip and torso in a toga-styled fashion. On the end of the chain, a small weight hung; it was this end that Oliver shot towards a nearby cinderblock ledge across the street. With monstrous accuracy, the weight wrapped itself around the outcropping, and took firm hold. Then, the chain began to unravel, and with it, Oliver spun, and his descent continued. Twenty feet. Ten feet Five feet. With the flick of his wrist, Oliver unhooked the weight from the ledge, and hooked it onto a metal bar that stuck out from the same building not three feet below the ledge. As Oliver's weight spread itself across the chain, it caused the metal bar to buckle, and it bent slowly as Oliver came closer to the ground. In the next second, Oliver landed with a small thud on the dusty ground of the dimly lit street he had been observing not thirty seconds earlier. The chain and weight had followed suit in the young man's descent, and Oliver stuck out his hand to catch them. In one fluid motion, the weight was caught, and the chain wrapped itself around the young man's body. That's life. Very casually, Oliver dusted his already dirtied tunic, and batted at his pants to tidy himself up. Why after all that, would he go through the trouble to "tidy himself up." "Did you enjoy the show? Or am I mistaking your gaze for something else entirely...?" Someone had been watching.

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[Aubs]

The street was quiet, given the noisy district that it was in. It was almost as if it had cleared beforehand of the usual riffraff and left sparse for a reason. As is life however, the simplest answer was the correct one, while at the same time the worst reason was usually the reason why. A few men stood around in the semi darkness away from some of the lights above, looking neither interested nor concerned with Oliver. It was not until a few moments later that someone spoke, in a tone that seemed to regard the small man as nothing more than a fly in the air, with enough venom that it might have felt like Oliver was a piece of trash, and enough uncaring that it might have been that he was a stray dog instead. “’Bout fuckin’ time runt.”

The emerged from the shadows, dressed in what could have only been a uniform. It had black pants, shoes and a black jacket, a high collar snapping around the chin. A few had slanted hats, with heavy lids like they belonged to some city cop. The one who spoke had his jacket open, a white shirt apparent under it. He had close cropped black hair, a nasty red car running down the left side of his face. He looked younger than he sounded, and was definitely the one in charge.

“Where's the package?”

It was none other than Griff, the leader of the Shield Troops on the island, a group of elite police with some World Government ties, who worked directly for the leader of the island, in this case the corrupt mayor. Griff handled most of the lower level stuff for the boss with his other boss, the more important one, “Old Boy”. Oliver was their best deliveryman, nondescript enough to go where he wanted, skilled enough to get out, and the boy was cold as ice…just what they wanted. The heat had been turned up recently, as some of the other cops had been getting suspicious, that and the Mayor must have known that Griff and his boys were taking more than a slim cut of the pie around these parts. It wouldn’t matter soon anyway, if what they had planed came to fruition. As the man stepped forward, his truncheon came into view. This was something Oliver knew well, this black truncheon, 3 feet long and shaped much like a bat, with a spike on the opposite end by the handle, and knots in the head of the weapon to break bones in more places of course.

The lights flickered around them, Griff’s smirk plainly written on his face. Everything was coming together, but what to do with the kid afterward…

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] "Do I ever disappoint?" Oliver removed a small, leather-bound folder from his waistband. It was unmarked, tied together by a rough piece of string, and contained very few documents. However, the tiniest bit of information could be worth quite a bit of coin...especially if it was incriminating. As they say: "Knowledge is power," and although it lacks any sort of physical clout...it can always be bought. The young man took the folder with his right hand, and sandwiched the parcel between his bicep and armpit. He cocked his head to the right eying the crew standing before him. They were the usual government-type...well, as much "government" you could get in Serine City. They all looked clean-cut, but underneath the uniform, they were as dirty as the scum that lined the city's streets. If a buck was to be made, an eye was to be turned. What was surprising, however, is that in most cases, these "Shield" operatives never turned on each other. That's not to say they wouldn't go ahead and cut off some loose ends...like an unfortunate courier, perhaps? Oliver nodded quickly towards the truncheon held by the "main man" of the operation, so to speak. Griff was his name [or was it? Oliver really had no affinity for such things], and he didn't look to friendly sporting such a vicious looking weapon. "But, uh, what are you doing with that fine stick, pal? I thought we were all friends?" Oliver's left hand slowly moved towards the loose end of the chain wrapped around his waist. His soiled fingers snaked themselves around the rough chain, and his wrist bobbed to make sure the weight was free of any snags. An innocent smirk danced across Oliver's face in response to Griff's own questionable grin. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. What was to happen next?

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[Aubs]

Griff just smirked, unafraid of the little man. He continued to walk forward , lifting the truncheon in his left hand up to rest it on his same shoulder. He chuckled a little bit, while he did appreciate a little fight in the help, he didn’t feel like bashing his face in just yet. When he did speak it was strangely calm, but with the same sting that it had possessed before. “Don’t get too cocky punk, we are more than qualified ta whip your punk ass. Hand it over and get out ta way.” He stepped forward again, lifting up his right hand to accept the folder. He needed that thing if he was going to cover his own ass. This was the first step to getting rid of the mayor and moving a certain man into the running for the next election, an “old” favorite if you will. It would be enough to get Griff and Shield a few more years of the good life, and get rid of a thorn in the bosses side all at once.

It was a curious thought, that this would be the last few moments of Oliver’s time in their service. It would be best to gag him somewhere up nice and quiet for the next week or two while everything moved, the kid did have a lot of time with their information after all. Things would be set by the time they let him out, so it wouldn’t matter all that much anyway. But as Griff reached his hand out to take his material, a gunshot erupted in the air. He quickly turned to face the blast, knowing that they had given the police clear instructions to block off the area, and that the particular round they had just heard being discharged was much too be a mistake. Griff quickly gave a set of short waves to the Shield members around him, who moved with utter efficiency. They might not have all been good thinkers, but they sure could hold back a crowd. Turning back to Oliver Griff spoke quickly.

“Two options. Hand it over and run, or lose your face. Take ya pick. Now!”

From the edges of the street a slow movement came, a few men, then a few more. The group grew so large that they blocked off both sides of the street. Regular policemen, with a few of their own mixed in stood vigil, looking at them with contempt. There would be too many to fight fairly, they would need to do something different. It just so happened however, that they had a few secret weapons on their side. A few men in particular stepped forward, one man facing one side of the street, a second facing the others. Trump Cards The groups came closer and closer together.

The mayor had been smarter than one would have guessed, and Griff doubted that “Old Boy” would be nice enough to back them up. So it was a fight they wanted huh? Didn’t really matter as long as they got that package and got out of here. Our villain turned sharply and reached for Oliver’s charge…

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] "Ah ah, ah! That's not how we play here in Serine City!" In one fluid motion, Oliver lifted his right leg, placed the outside of his thigh on Griff's extended arm, which caused the limb to glance off to the right and completely throw off the Shield operative's footing. As Oliver followed through with his maneuver, he placed his right foot onto Griff's lumbar region and bent his leg at the knee in preparation for a powerful jump. However, this didn't stop the young man from delivering a snide salute to the man - which had just made a threat on his life - before making his grand exit. "Long live the Elder Stars, eh?" With a quick smirk and a wink, Oliver pushed off of Griff's back with all of his might, shooting himself into the air, and simultaneously, launching his ex-client into the back of the soldier preoccupied with the incoming crowd. Oliver couldn't help but chuckle as he sailed through the air; what a debacle this turned out to be! Though, there was time to think the situation over later, for now, he needed solid ground beneath his feet. With lightning fast observational skills, Oliver drafted a three-dimensional layout of the area around him. Not fifteen feet upwards was the metal pole he had bent making his descent earlier, and about eight feet to his right, a cast-iron banister surrounding a four foot square balcony. Looks sturdy enough for me. Oliver quickly whipped his left arm around to his right side, and shot the weight of his kusarigama like a bullet towards the intended target. With unnatural precision, the weight hit its mark, and instantly wrapped around the first rung it came in contact with. Oliver tightened his grab around the now slack chain, and then waited as his body fell, slowly pulling the chain more taught with each passing second. Cling! The chain snapped taught, and Oliver's momentum quickly shifted upward towards a ledge six feet away from the balcony acting as his fulcrum. Oliver shifted his weight slightly, aiming his feet towards the new-found ledge, and whipped his left wrist once more to free the weight from the metal rung. Oliver landed gracefully on the ledge, but his ascent didn't stop there. As a monkey climbs a tree, Oliver scaled the building with immense speed, putting his skill in the art of parkour to the test. In a few seconds, he was standing on the roof of the building, taking but a moment to peer down to the street below. He could see Griff flailing his arms and cursing to the high heavens, pointing his grand truncheon towards Oliver's perch. In the next second, three bullets whizzed by Oliver's head, one managing to clip his left cheek. Oliver winced in pain, and pulled his head away from the shooters' sight. Free from the action, Oliver whipped his body around and scanned the horizon for a building in particular: the governor's estate. It took up most of center-city, and was guarded by a multitude of Shield operatives that Oliver would be more than glad to avoid. After a few seconds, Oliver spotted the Governor's insignia emblazoned on a large, black flag billowing in the wind not a mile from his current position. Oliver let out a great sigh, while in his head weighing the outcomes of the decision he was about to make. This is it, eh? This is my chance...? Oliver cocked his head ever so slightly, listening to the commotion on the streets below. There was more gunfire, and the shouts from the crowd grew steadily until the entire block burst out in an uproar. Oliver shook his head, and turned his gaze back to the task at hand; he couldn't be bothered with this city...no, this pit any longer. It was time to get going while the going was good, and if he couldn't seize this grand opportunity that had been so generously placed before him...he might not get another chance at freedom. The young man took in a deep breath, and his eyes fixed themselves onto the large structure just below the great black flag. The young man, leaving everything he knew behind right at that spot, gave a single nod, and was off. Oliver tore across the rooftops, the wind ripping around his body at such speeds he could barely hear himself think. The occasional shout and gunshot managed to break through this barrier of air, but other than that, Oliver remained unfazed by every other outside force. His mind was made up, and his target was set. With the courier's mindset, he was ready to deliver the last package "Old Boy" would ever entrust him with straight to the top, to the Governor himself! The package that Griff was so anxious to retrieve was incriminating information regarding the mayor himself, and his own dirty dealings within the city with he looked after. Using this as a bargaining chip, Oliver planned to buy his freedom, and the capture of "Old Boy" Billy. Would the plan actually work? Oliver had no way of knowing...but to him, it seemed like the best plan he had. It was that, or suffer the wrath of Shield and Billy alike. Everything was riding on this confrontation with the Governor. The estate was fast approaching, and Oliver could instantly spot a multitude of guards positioned on its high walls. The estate was more of a fortress, if anything; the Governor held many secrets within those walls, and meant to keep everyone and anyone he wanted out. Though, delivering packages to high-security establishments was Oliver's specialty. Oliver assessed the scenario before him in an instant, taking in all possible entryways and their relative threat level. From what he gathered...this was going to be one tough cookie to crack. Oliver chuckled under his breath; he hadn't been given a real challenge in quite a while! Oliver quickly brought his blast goggles up to his eyes, and readied his kusarigama for more mid-air acrobatics. Oliver eyed a flower pot ripe for the picking, and as he leapt from the edge of the rooftop grabbed the dangling pot withe his right arm, and threw all of his weight forward and began sailing towards the nearest stone wall of the fortress. Ah, fu- Oliver had gotten a little ahead of himself, and was now sailing towards a stone wall that had nothing to grab hold of. He would nearly be close enough to land on the walkway, and there were no metal rods jutting from the wall face for the young man to wrangle up. However...there was an innocent Shield agent that happened to be walking by. Oliver winced at the the thought, but as the face of the wall grew ever closer, Oliver made up his mind rather quickly. You can't make an omelette unless you crack a few eggs! Oliver, apprehensively, launched the weight of his weapon towards the unsuspecting soldier, and cringed as the chain wrapped around the man's torso. Oliver could hear the muffled screams through the whistling air, but couldn't help but pull the chain with all of his might to further propel himself forward. Thump! Oliver hit the edge of the wall's battlement like a sack of bricks, and simultaneously pulled the poor soldier to the edge as well. Oliver coughed for a few seconds, and then quickly scrambled over the ledge, landing face first onto the dusty walkway. Jumping to his feet, Oliver spun around and freed the soldier from his weapon's chain. "I am so very sorry, sir! Even so, your service was greatly appreciated." Clang!. Oliver felt a swift thwack to the back of his head, and his head immediately began swimming. Not moments later he fell to his knees, and from there, things went dark... _________________________________ Oliver awoke around two hours later to an unfortunate headache, and an unfamiliar environment. It was a rather large room, walls and ceiling painted to purest white, and the carpet a wonderful navy blue. Intricate moldings lined the walls' intersections, and a great mahogany door seemed to be the only entrance or exit that wasn't one of the wall-sized windows Oliver had been facing that overlooked Serine City in all its...glory. But in front of the windows was a great, ebony desk that seemed to stretch six feet in length, and four feet in width. Its design was as intricate as the moldings that decorated the room, and a chair [though it more closely resembled a throne] was propped directly behind this fine piece of craftsmanship. Sitting in this "chair" was none other than the Governor himself, lightly flicking through the pages contained within the leather folder Oliver had been carrying. "Well, young man. I suppose I have you to thank for the procurement of these documents I found lying on my desk. So good of you to stop by! Did you find my guards hospitable?" The governor was a man of large stature, and sported a rather fine moustache that Oliver seemed to find rather impressive. He was all gussied up in the usual political garb, and a great gold sash that only fed the already engorged ego of the man sitting before Oliver. All Oliver could do was hang his head, and curse himself for being so careless. Great job, nitwit. Look at what you've got yourself into now... The Governor stood from his chair, and slowly made his way around his desk, placing his hands behind his back. His beady eyes were fixed on poor Oliver, and as he made his way to the front of the desk, he posed a question to the young man. "I'll take it by your silence that you found them, 'up to snuff,' as you children call it. But now...I find myself in a predicament. I sent my men out to deal with the man, um, Griff was his name, yes? Well...I sent my men out to find him thinking that he would be holding the very papers you brought right to my doorstep. What a great surprise that was! Still, one thing concerns me...why exactly would you risk your life coming here of all places? Additionally...why should I even bother keeping you alive?" With that, the Governor tore his right arm from behind his back and exhumed a monstrous, gilded pistol, its barrel lined with precious stones, and its grip made of ivory. The man placed the muzzle on the top of the young boy's head, since Oliver had dropped his chin to his chest not moments earlier. The Governor grinned a most evil grin, allowing a few of his gold-capped teeth to shine through his bush of a moustache. The Governor then let out a maniacal laugh that seemed to echo throughout the whole estate, and cocked his head to the side, awaiting an answer from the young man before him. "Well, boy? What do you have to offer me?" "I can give you Billy." The Governor immediately fell silent. He slowly raised the gun from Oliver's head, and Oliver too raised his head so that his cool, gray eyes, matched the gaze of the Governor. The man's eyes narrowed, burrowing deep into the core of Oliver's person. "...and why would you do that for me?" "'Cause I want out of this pit, sir. He's the scum of the earth, and I can't bear to work for him any longer. I don't want anything from you, sir, just something I've deserved all my life: the freedom to do with my life what I choose." With this, the Governor set down his gun on the desk, and placed his massive fingers beneath his chin to consider the proposition. "...and how exactly would you do this, hm? I would prefer you do it in the same fashion as you had with the documents." "I know where he's hiding, and I can bring your men there, no problem. No one knows the city better than me, sir." The Governor let out another monstrous laugh, this time shaking the room with his profound girth. "You?! Know this city better than its beloved Governor? Bah!" The man turned around, and placed his hands onto the desk while he gazed out the crystal clear windows before him. Not a minute later, he spoke once more. "Fine. I'll let you go...with a squad of my best agents. You'll lead them to Billy's hideout, and from there, they'll call in a strike team to take everyone out." "...and after that...my freedom?" Though Oliver couldn't see it, a sly grin slowly crept across the man's face, giving light to what was to come. "Of course, lad. Your freedom..." _________________________________ Oliver tried as best he could to direct the Governor's men through the streets without them being detected. They were slow, brutish, and loud - far too loud to get passed Billy's security. Still, Oliver's life was on the line, and he had to bend to the Governor's will. Oliver had led the men to a more ramshackle part of the city, a place the locals liked to call the "Thieves' Den." Quickly and quietly, Oliver pointed out which cabin was Billy's main hideout, and the Governor's men phoned in the location. Oliver told the soldiers that he would go inside, warm Billy up, and give the signal to strike with three loud whistles. The soldiers agreed to the plan, and took up positions around the building. Oliver placed his hand on the hold metal knob of the decaying door that stood before him, turned it, and took his first step inside. Little did he know that there was a surprise waiting for him as well...

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[Aubs]

Fuck

That was certainly the first word that appeared in his mind during the strange few seconds that followed. Just as he had been turning to secure his safe-passage in the documents, he had been given an excellent kick to back, sprawling him to the ground with great force. As the growing battle around them clogged up more and more of the street, the ever-closing police force around their small band of Shield, Griff was forced to realize what had really happened. Billy must have known something was up, because none of his riffraff were there to help them, but the Police that swarmed could have only been informed by the proper authorities. Meaning, the Governor, Mayor, Ruler of Serine City must have found out that Old Boy was getting some documents in tonight that would be detrimental to his office. That meant that Griff would only be able to get out of this with his skin if he went to the source…the Governor.

A door to some shop was at his rear, deep into the alley behind them. With men on all sides it looked like the only way to go at this point. Griff whistled loudly as he stood and moved to the door, not even bothering to dust himself off first. With a thunderous kick the door flew inward, crashing into the shop. The others followed inside quickly, until the place was full. There was only about ten men in total, including Griff and his two trusted, and seriously powerful Lieutenants. So without ado, the boss looked towards a few of the others, pointing at 6 in total. “Stay here and stall for time. I’m going to go get us off the hook.” The cries in response were loud enough to wake the dead.

“No way! You’re leaving us here to run away.”

“You can stay, and we bail you out of jail, or you can run and I’ll kill you myself.”

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A few moments later they were gone, 4 in total, Griff his LTs and another, albeit much smarter man than them. He had taken the best, because if this didn’t work out they would need someone to take the fall. It took most of the next hour to sneak around the city, with the need to avoid literally everyone. When they finally did arrive in the Governor’s mansion the welcome was not all that homely. They did everything except bind them in chains on their walk to the Governor’s office. Standing in front of his lavish desk was the man himself, tall and proud, with a badly receding set of hair but a powerful mustache. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Griff was smooth in his reply, trying hard not to give away too much.

“Word is some Shield members just went down for working with “Old Boy”. Does that mean I can finally get that promotion?”

The Governor took a moment, and even went to sit at his desk, placed his hands over each other and went as far as to ponder. Then finally he spoke, his golden smile creeping over him. “Come to think of it, I have a special guest that needs transport, when you get back you can have that promotion.”

It didn’t take too long to hammer out all the details, but both parties certainly left satisfied, though when they did it was the Governor that had the bigger smile on his face.

Oh what a tangled web we weave…

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[Raab]

living life one delivery at a time...

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px;] "Aha! Oliver, lad! Seems like you came through once again..." The scene set up before Oliver had become all too familiar; the dim lighting, the broken floorboards, the decrepit table and that ogre of a man that sat at the center of this kingdom of waste...it felt as if it were only yesterday that Oliver first set foot in this unfortunate establishment. Oliver took a few steps towards the table, but was stopped rather quickly by two figures that had been lurking in the shadows. The two men were short in stature, hovering about two inches below Oliver's eye level, and were completely shrouded in blood-red cloaks. Oliver's head cocked to the side in confusion, though Billy was quick to interject before Oliver could get a single word off... "Did ya' get the package to yer' contact, boy? Or is there something you ought ta' tell me right here, right now?" Oliver's heart sank like a stone, and a fire lit in his belly. He already knew? But how? Was he being followed...? "Do ya' think I've been lettin' you go off and do these jobs without any sort of insurance, boy? Meet the Eisley Twins: two boys that seem ta' be better than you in the art of sneakin' n' creepin'. They saw ya' at that God-damned Governor's place...ya' went in with a package, and ya' left with nothin'...nothin' except a group o' them rowdy roughneck Shield creeps, eh?" Billy placed his monstrous hands on the wooden table, and hoisted himself up ever so slowly. He made his way around the table, and as he came closer to Oliver, the Eisley Twins parted, allowing Billy to exhume an elegant dagger from his right hip, and placed directly under Oliver's trembling chin. "Ya' know what I got ta' do now...don't you, boy?" It was only then that Oliver felt his body shaking with an incredible force. It was an alien feeling to say the least, something that he had not experienced in a long while. For a few moments, Oliver's eyes danced around the room, desperately searching for some sort of getaway or environmental advantage. Unfortunately...there was nothing... So this is it...this is how I get my freedom? Oliver closed his eyes, and let out a great sigh; with that sigh, his trembling ceased. The young man rolled his wrists for a moment, and then shook his body in attempts to throw off any other rogue nerves that had managed to stick around. His eyes opened, and those cool, confident gray eyes pierced through Billy with such a force, even the "Old Boy" was surprised. Oliver was ready...ready to taste fre-... BOOM! In the next few minutes, Oliver could feel himself being dragged across what felt like a pile of wooden plants and loose stones, though his perception had been completely thrown off by the explosion that had occurred not too long ago. "...Th-the fuck...was that?" "The signal, my good man. The signal!" Oliver's senses returned the second he heard that voice; the trauma from the explosion was a thing of the past, and the shock that had just washed over this unfortunate man was therapy enough. "Governor?" The Governor, in all his glory, was standing amongst the rubble of what was recently Billy's last hideout, the "Old Boy" himself looking down the barrel of that golden cannon of a pistol Oliver had the displeasure of meeting not two hours earlier. Next to the Governor was another familiar face, a face of a man Oliver had forgotten far too quickly... "...Griff?" The Shield operative shot a dirty smirk Oliver's way, and the young man's head began swimming with questions, though he didn't know which was appropriate to ask first. Unfortunately, as was the theme of the day, Oliver's concerns were pushed aside, and the Governor took the stage. "Your naivety is superbly baffling, young Oliver. To think that I, the benevolent ruler of this kingdom I call Serine City, would strike up a bargain with a courier of a local Crime Lord? A laughable prospect, wouldn't you agree, men?" The multitude of soldiers surrounding the seen all laughed in response, whistling and carrying on and doing all things that cocky military men do. The Governor continued... "So! I simply took advantage of the situation. You were more than willing to sell out your employer for a thing you call 'freedom.' What is freedom, anyway? If your not serving him, you're serving me. If you're not serving me, then, well, you're probably dead!" The Governor let out a monstrous laugh, much akin to the laugh Oliver had experienced earlier that day, save for this time, there was no room to contain the sound; the Governor's voice echoed through the streets, and extended towards the heavens, rustling the feathers of the angles in Heaven. "Still, my boy, I feel bad for taking advantage of you...so I'll do three things for you! First...I'll take care of your primary concern: Billy-Boy here!" Not a single grain of apprehension resided within the Governor as he pulled the trigger of his massive weapon, sending the contents of Billy's cranium flying across the rubble. Billy's hulking body lurched over, his limbs completely losing control and hanging limp amongst the shattered floorboards and cobblestone. The Governor raised his pistol to his lips, blew away the smoke, and holstered the magnificent weapon. "There! That's all nice and taken care of. As for your second favor, I have decided that I won't kill you..." It was after this last sentence that a devilish grin began to spread across the man's face; an idea was brewing within his massive head, and it seemed to be torture for him to keep it to himself any longer. "For my third favor...yes, this is the most grand favor of them all! You will accompany Griff - I'm sure you've met before - to the Grand Line to serve a jail sentence, that if I'm not mistaken, takes up the remainder of your God-forsaken life." The governor let out a hearty cackle, and spun around on his heel, making his way towards the main street. "Like I said, my boy. If you're not working for me, you're probably dead! And it seems that I just about killed you, granting and robbing you of your freedom in such a short amount of time...c'est la vie, right, my boy? Ah, hahaha!" Oliver could do nothing as the Shield operatives tore at him, forcing him to stand, and pulling him towards the prisoner's cart that had been waiting for him all the while. As he was led to the start of his long life in confinement, Oliver couldn't help but replay the day's events over and over again in his head, and subsequently, go over all the "what-ifs" that were sure to follow... How could this have happened? Would things have been better if he stayed with Billy and let things go as planned? What would his mother do? Would his family be okay? What was the Governor planning? What would this new life be like...? Though, amidst all these things, Oliver couldn't help but recall one key moment of the day: the perch overlooking the street where he had met Griff and his men; Oliver had been contemplating life and all its hardships, and only one thing really came of all that pondering... Hell...what can you do?

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[END OF THREAD]