Sticks and Stones (invite)

It was just another evening at the basketball court for Pierce. He was dressed in a sleek muscle shirt tucked into a pair of cargo pants. A lengthy strand of glow-in-the-dark beads looped around his neck multiple times. A gentle breeze wafted through the open space and faintly rustled the leaves of the trees. For a moment Pierce stopped walking and simply stood there with his arms up as if to embrace the wind. It felt refreshing on his hot skin after a long day of fighting and training. Now it was time to play. This even seemed to have a more relaxed vibe, he'd warm up slowly and get his pulse pounding at full power later at the hottest spot he could find tonight.

As the sky dimmed and the street lamps came on he strode to his favorite spot to practice his poi and capoeira. What he did not expect to find in his favorite spot this fine, breezy evening was a pack of hoodlums. Well, well, what have we here? A pack of rats infesting my nest. I'll have to exterminate them.. He swaggered up to the offending loafers who were obnoxiously talking about the girls they wanted to less than savory deeds to. These creeps definitely had to go. Their ilk was not welcome here.

The first one to notice him seemed to be the leader of the three man pack and made the first strike. "Daaaayuuuum, Does ya momma know you's gay bro?" Pierce's brain already ached and the guy hadn't even spoken more than a sentence. He nudged one of his cronies and they began to laugh as if it was the greatest insult in the history of playground immaturity. Another quickly chimed in with his two cents, "Yeah man, yer mommy must be mental to let a fag like you dress like dat yo!" Pierce lost all desire to allow the vulgar flesh bags another breath of precious oxygen to fuel their miniscule brain cells.

He didn't even give them a warning, they had no chance from the start. There were no bystanders out this evening, he'd jogged the whole area before he'd come here. His guard peeled away and left him bare to the madness of his wrath. They would not survive, he would make absolutely sure they never stole another breath. He lunged at the lackey on the left as the rage spilled forth, his muscles bulging and his eyes flashing a hellish crimson. The tattoo on his arm writhed with evil glee as it fed heartily upon the rage and amplified it. All it would take was one hit to the stomach and the first lackey was down.

Lackey number two hesitated and found Pierce's foot in his throat. The leader almost got a swing in but found his feet suddenly relieved of duty as Pierce yanked one ankle out from under him brutally. Lackey number two was going to get up quickly but the leader would get up faster. Pierce slammed his head into the ground, quite intent on bashing the boy to bits until Lackey number two moved and caught his eye just long enough to spare the other's life. This was not going to be pretty, three they may be but the berserker breathed nothing but destruction and death. It would take nothing short of a miracle to save them as Pierce's frenzy peaked.

Andrew didn't usually rest on concrete in the late afternoon, but when he did the Weapon wasn't usually sober for it. This time he was, and his nap had been interrupted by a group of hoodlums fighting. Why wasn't Andrew under the influence you ask? Mostly he wanted to clean up his act, because his new partner wouldn't be able talk much for them on missions, and things of that nature...and the other reason was because he found himself day dreaming more often. The boy used to refer to this very simply as "meditation," but he wasn't entirely stupid. It was definitely connected to his drug use, and he feared that the day dreams might even be hallucinations, which also wouldn't help him with school. With the screaming, and the violence he almost wished that he could call this scene a hallucination, but he knew that wasn't the case.

It had all started with a gay joke, and quips about the blue haired boy's mother. Andrew contemplated whether or not he should help the boys in the fight...So that they didn't die, or just stop the blue haired one from murdering them. He certainly could let them suffer the consequences of their actions, but this wasn't a perfect world, and the Weapon was sure that they came from fairly broken homes. While that wasn't an excuse for bullying, there were all sorts of mental things involved with it, that Andrew never paid attention to in class. One would think that with a Wavelength like his, he would pay attention to the ways that Madness manifests...but he knew enough without the technical terms.

After he decided that he would calm down the one attacking them, Andrew jumped off of the bench, letting out a loud sigh as he did so. Catching their attention would probably be best, because it could buy the boys a little more time. The Weapon cracked his knuckles, and walked over to where the one-sided match was occurring, making sure that he was close enough so that his Wavelength would affect them all, but still holding enough distance so that the blue haired boy didn't mistake him for an enemy, and attack.

"The fight ain't worth it... Hittin' em isn't going to lessen their insecurities, nor is it gonna give ya any satisfaction, brosef..."

Andrew looked at the boy, and was hoping that he could convince him. While it was obvious that he was fueled by rage, the combination of Andrew's logic, and Wavelength usually helped situations...At least they wouldn't be able to feel enough anger to continue...Though some people are a bit stubborn.

Pierce snarled furiously as a voice called out over the groans and yelps of the others. Who dared to disturb the beautiful suffering he was causing? Red eyes landed on the newcomer and the rage flared brighter for a moment before pulling back. His mind cleared a little but he still wanted to destroy something. They deserved it after all, nobody insulted his mother and got away with anything less than barely surviving.

A wicked smirk split his face as he stared the newcomer down. "Awww, but if I let them go I won't get the satisfaction of slaughtering them. You'll do if you want to take their place though." He laughed wickedly and gave the one nearest a swift kick in the ribs to make sure he stayed down and then spit on him. He stepped over the last of the downed boys and began to close the distance between him and Andrew.

The closer he got the more it felt like the rage simply burned away. His tattoos writhed as though in agony and eventually stilled under the effect of the boy's wavelength. Pierce groaned softly as the rage just washed away and he stumbled. What was this? He shouldn't be calm right now. He should be tearing this new guy to shreds. How could he have missed this guy being around anyway? Easy, the guy had been here all along. He was probably very good at just laying still.

Pierce smirked nonchalantly and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he approached the only person he hadn't struck so far and stopped only when he was nose to chest with him. He looked up, and up at the towering boy who seemed more like a bean pole than anything special. This guy looked like a simple kind of person, easy to please and none too worried with appearances. Priceless. "We'll, aren't you a special little snowflake? I don't know what you did to keep me from ripping you to shreds with those dicks but I'll admit it's a nice trick." His smirk widened as he shifted his weight and aimed a swift kick at his confronter's knee. This guy was far too tall, he should get short so they could talk evenly. "That's for stopping me". Whether he managed to hit the guy or not didn't seem to matter much to Pierce as he relaxed again.

Andrew Fischer didn't like being dragged into fights, but this situation was necessary. The guy in front of him walked over, and was obviously overtaken by his Wavelength. Good sign. The shorter boy kicked him right in his knee. Bad sign. As the Weapon fell over, onto his knees on the concrete, he reflected on his decision. It was obvious that the boy in front of him was incredibly violent...Why would he have thought that he could make a difference? Now that he was sitting on scraped knees, and staring up at the boy he bit his lip. The Weapon would have to think very carefully about what he said next, or he may suffer serious consequences.

With a deep breath, he began to focus on what he would say to this creature of rage. The words began to form in his head, and he figure that he might as well let them flow. "I'm not a snowflake...I'm just a Demon Weapon, that doesn't care for violence...You don' need tuh play tough, you know. I'm sure that most of the people here understand how strong you are...Aren't ya a student? I have probably seen you before, just in one of my less vigilant moments...You seem like a hard to miss person."

Andrew hadn't really stuck to calming him down...He had just started rambling, and making small talk. While he normally was good at making speeches, this situation didn't threaten him much more after he had started. Something special, and almost sad seemed to be inside of the person in front of him...Andrew didn't really come to this conclusion because he understood how he felt, nor because he was showing any weakness...It was simply because a person who acted with such anger had to be suffering inside. "Ya don't have to give in like that...Someone taught me how to look past the rage, and insecurity...I can help you too"

Pierce cringed as the boy spoke and his grin turned quickly into a dark scowl. How dare he. Insecure? He'd show this guy insecure. He grabbed the weapon up by the hair and hauled him to his feet, cocking his arm back as if to punch him in the face. Instead Pierce used the motion to slither his arm across what bit of Andrew's shoulders he could reach; He gave the boy's neck a slightly painful squeeze and pulled him down face to face with him until their cheekbones were practically grinding. Pierce glared through his bangs and Andrews heatedly.

"Give in? I don't give in, I control. There's a vast difference. Giving in implies weakness and indulgence. I do not indulge and am not weak. I drink in what the curse gives me and use it. You're lucky that trick worked or I'd have enjoyed ripping apart the witness." He let that sink in before his usual grin split his face again. Now that he had effectively scared this one he'd make sure he got the point.

He let go of the weapon stepped back, turned to face him, and offered his unmarked palm. "The name's Charon, Charon Ferry. Cursed Berserker, Hammah Meister, and hunter of witches. Who, might I inquire, are you?" He let his silver tongued charm shine through as he introduced himself. If he was going to be unable to get angry around this weapon then he might as well be civil. Internally he wanted to scoff at the idea though. A weapon that detested violence. How did this kid not get bullied? He'd have to take care of that if he ever noticed it. Softies like this one had little place in his line but he wasn't completely reprehensible.

If anything this guy seemed like the kind that needed someone else to fight their battles anyway. Maybe this guy wasn't all bad anyways. He didn't have to worry about the curse overcoming him. He could feel it slumbering deeply. For the first time in his life Charon breathed easily. That more than made up for taking away his vengeance. He felt his guard and carefully hacked the bindings of his mind. He let his guard slip and for a moment sincerity showed through. "Tell ya what, stay close to me and I'll make sure you don't get scuffed up any more than usual eh?" It was rare for Charon to offer his services without a price but unspoken was the price Andrew would pay for such protection, his calming wavelength would more than suffice as payment.

The meister known as Ethan was walking back home quite slowly. Even if he didn't seem to take classes seriously, he took is role perhaps a little too seriously. Helping people was just a small step towards Order. Bringing peace, maintaining the people's well-being, following Death's every order. It was all work who he addressed to his god. Ironically, it wasn't the god that his mother would have been hoping for.

Walking past the entrance to the basketball court; Ethan saw a couple of bodies on the ground, and two standing. Looking carefully, one seemed to be the center of it all. The redhead turned around and adjusted his glasses, or would have, if he wasn't wearing his contacts. Now he was just feeling both annoyed at this pathetic sight, and silly for forgetting that he just came back from the academy's dojo. He walked towards them while glaring at the blue haired troublemaker.

"Care to explain what's going on, blue hair?" He asked calmly as he now walked towards the male that seemed, compared to his friend who was a little ways farther away, Ethan had assumed, was noticeably subjected to greater amounts of brutality. The redhead walked past the blue haired tormentor, despite the fact that he was holding someone by their hair, to inspect the first lackey.

He got down on one knee, keeping the blue haired male within his sight. "Are you alright? Can you stand? You should get out of here and get your injuries checked if you can." After advising the young male, Ethan got up and brushed his pants before looking back at the weirdly dressed male. "And could you let the man go? I doubt that what you're doing is justifiable."

Whoever he was it seemed that he had done a lot of thinking over what type of person he wished to be...However the issue itself was how he tried to justify his actions. Andrew had a strong sense of pity for the person who now held him in a very uncomfortable position. While he didn't say anything, he wasn't agreeing with him...Silence sometimes made people assume that they were in agreement. Anger, and rage, and brutal actions were never justified. Even when you're using "violent" means to save another life, you do not do it in that manner...You simply defeat your opponent. Allowing those negative emotions to cloud judgement, or take over you is the issue...and enjoying it to any degree is even worse. Even demeaning your opponent is unjust, which was something else that happens often in society. The Demon Fishing Rod was aware of these truths, and lived by them. After he let go, and offered his "services," Andrew wasn't sure how to react.

"Charon...I don't enter any conflict...I don't need..." The Weapon was slightly interrupted by another boy with red hair, who seemed to be annoyed at Charon. Why would he intrude at this point? Andrew definitely had things under control...but it's not like it bothered him so much. This boy might be here to help the boys that got knocked down...Or might have had an issue with him. Whatever it was, Andrew certainly wasn't interested. Without another word he decided to head back to his bench.

Andrew tipped his hat to both of them, but as he tried to walk away, he literally tripped over his own feet, falling face first into the ground. The weapon didn't need to check to know that his nose was bleeding...or that his face hurt. As he tried to pick himself up, he simply fell back down...and decided to take this time to meditate on how he managed to fall, rather than to get help for his throbbing, and bleeding nose.

He was thinking it seemed. Slowly but surely, Pierce could almost hear the gears grinding as he tried to digest everything and responded only partially before a red haired interruption caught them. How inconvenient, another possible witness. Tonight just wasn't going to allow for fun at all was it? First his warm up was interrupted by the rat pack and now all of this. What a fine mess. If the new guy was asking for an explanation he wouldn't get it from Pierce. If the weapon got too mouthy he'd just have to forcibly remove the other guy somewhere to get medical attention and tell him to keep his mouth shut there.

Pierce scowled at the newcomer and sneered vehemently. Turning to face him instead of the weapon who still hadn't gotten to introduce himself. He gritted his teeth and spoke like his words might begin to drip acid. "First come, first serve pal. Nobody invited you to this soiree anyways pretty boy. We got this under control so why don't you just-" Pierce's attention was caught the moment he heard the other boy fall. A sickening crack sounded and Pierce forgot all about the other as he turned to look at the weapon who fell again before Pierce took long strides to get to him and haul him up with one arm over his shoulder.

"Ouch, man that nose looks bad. Come on, Red hair over there can get those lovely little rats over there any needed medical attention while I help you walk eh?" Now there was not only a decent excuse for a smoother extrication of the situation but now he had a bleeder he hadn't done. Everything was out for his thunder tonight. Oh well, the clubs wouldn't start getting fun for another few hours. Pierce smiled at Andrew and patted him on the back. "Does it feel broken or just busted a bit?" He was hoping the green haired boy would answer something along the lines of feeling broken or needing medical attention. It'd make slinking away all the easier though from the looks of Red Hair over there it didn't seem slinking would be much of an option. Maybe he could slither like the greasy snake he was.

The annoyed meister kept glaring at the blue haired male. He wanted an answer, not some gibberish. As the student that was previously about to be persecuted tilted his hat, Ethan nodded at him in response. However, seeing the man fall down on his face; Ethan couldn't hide his face of utter confusion and disappointment. Not like anyone was looking at him to see it, as he quickly changed his expression back to one of disapproval.

"Blue hair." The tall redhead stated coldly as he walked over to the pair. "How about you get lost. Those two guys can probably pick themselves up after a minute or two." Ethan stopped about two feet away from the two, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Well. Perhaps green hair here could tell me what happened?" Emerald gaze switched over to the blue haired male. "Or maybe you just want to leave? Don't worry about Green here, I'll take care of his injury if you leave."

[/justify]

Andrew looked up at the red haired boy, and then rubbed his nose. Everything was happening a little too fast for his taste, and he wasn't prepared to deal with the consequences of Pierce's actions. He definitely didn't want to stay here, but he didn't want Ethan to make the boys on the ground into victims either. Perhaps if Charon did leave...and Andrew went with the red haired Meister, then everything would work out much better, considering the fact that Andrew wouldn't become an accessory, nor would there be a second altercation between the two Meisters. Why were things always like this for the Demon Fishing Rod? Stuck in a world of violence, and trying to play it so that neither party was hurt...It wasn't his job, or anything...Certainly he could walk away. But again, with Charon here then there was potential for another fight...and that could get the red haired Meister hurt. Then if he stayed here with Ethan, then it would be less likely that he would focus on stretching the issue beyond what it was...Bullying, from the party that happened to be on the ground.

"Charon...I'b got id here...Jus' go, before they ged ub..." It was harder for him to speak with his nose like this, but he was sure that the boy would understand what he was trying to say. Andrew was the eye witness, and would be entirely non-biased...As opposed to the boys on the ground who would probably make something up, and then continue to plan revenge. Violence was such a disgusting thing, and he didn't want anything else to happen on the court today. He pushed himself to his feet, from Charon's hold, and then gave thumbs up to the Meister. "Ahm good..."

The tall boy walked towards the red haired Meister, and then took in a deep breath. He hoped that the guy had a tissue, or something, because his nose was gushing scarlet coloured liquid, and it would be disgusting for him to wipe it on his arm. As long as everything turned out okay, then the Weapon would be happy.

Pierce wasn't quite ready for the turn of events. He did feel a bit of Andrew's sincerity. Th guy meant nobody any harm and he'd already taken out his frustration on the peaceful boy. A bit brutally too come to think of it. It was still his mess to clean up and he hated leaving messes. It wasn't red hair's place to clean this up but if that was what it took he'd have to accept. He was backed into a corner and risking a lot. He'd have to give up the gold and go home for now.

As the weapon got up he helped steady the boy by his back until he was sure that the weapon could stand on his own. His knee might still be pretty bad and he knew who was to blame fully for that. Andrew wasn't a warrior like he was, he wasn't built to take damage. As soon as Andrew flashed him the thumbs up he knew the boy had everything under control. He didn't seem like he'd tell any more than was needed. If he could slither away just maybe the peaceful boy could keep from stirring things up worse.

As Andrew made his way over to the red haired guy Pierce scowled and got up to follow, yanking a fluffy white something out of his sleeve and holding it in front of Andrew's face. A handkerchief, a frilly white handkerchief to be exact. It looked more like a doily around the edges honestly. The berserker heaved a sigh and averted his eyes as a dark heat rose on the bridge of his nose. "At least clean up a little bit man, you'll end up slipping in your own blood at this rate. And not a damn word about my handkerchief, it's a spare. I don't give a damn what happens to it either."

He seemed to be somewhere between flustered and embarrassed as he offered the little square of cloth to the other boy and gave the redheaded meister a pouting glare. "And you'd better take good care of him. He's not a fighter in the least." He gave Ethan the least threatening glare that ever crossed his face. With Andrew near he found it difficult to actually put any effort into the threat beyond words. He simply didn't have the annoyance in him to even want to, let alone try.