Tfrid humans

The damn limit

There was a limit to how much crossing you could crossover. According to Alan "Clampdown" Clampdown, what was four. The most you could do successfully was quadruple-cross people. It really sucked that the three police staring down at him with pure fury worked for number four, that damned mafia boss, "Thunderhoof".

"Yous done really messed up now!" Thunderhoof growled. He made up his lack of better English with his intimidation. Clampdown chuckled nervously as he wriggled against the ropes tying his arms behind him in a chair. "Y-... you're not gonna kill me are ya Uberto?" He asked. "Ay! Only my momma calls me dat, ya hear?! And nah. I got petter plans for you, punk." Thunderhoof spat back. Clampdown shook. Torture? Maybe. The famous Thunderhoof family was known for being terrifying, maybe that's how they got so much to their name.

A man, tall but shorter than Thunderhoof, walked in the room. His nationality was something between Eastern European and northern Asian. He looked clever. He walked clever. He smelled clever. This was all just how Clampdown saw him, but he knew exactly who he was.

Tanner Steeljaw. Another infamous crime boss. There wasn't much of a legacy tied to his family name as Thunderhoof's, but he was known well. "Well... I would've thought two big time crime bosses would be fighting over territory! ... heh..." Clampdown said awkwardly. Steeljaw smirked but the distaste was still clear on his round-ish face. "A jokester hmm?" He said coolly. Clampdown shivered. "Oh don't fret. I have something planned for you to do with me." He said, walking around the short, husky man tied to the chair. Clampdown definitely fretted. "Listen, I won't hurt you as long as you keep your mouth shut. Alright? You only get to talk when I tell you to." By this time Steeljaw was standing behind him, the sharpened finger caps on his gloves pressed into Clampdowns throat.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Clampdown gulped and gave a slight nod.

Yeah... he was definitely in some deep shit.

[Bee sting]

Tooru Jetstorm Hidaka (or just Jetstorm) trudged home from school. His slightly older brother, Shinji Slipstream Hidaka, was in front. "You think Dad will be home?" Jetstorm asked. Slipstream shrugged. "He promised he would be. If he isn't I can make dinner again."

Jetstorm looked down. He was never home. Slip always had to make dinner.

Gunshots suddenly snapped him from his thoughts. Slipstream pushed him against a wall as people in dirty, matching clothes with a wolf symbol. "Get back kid!" A short guy wearing one of those shirts commanded, pushing Slipstream back. He ran into Jetstorm, and Jetstorm was thrown into a patch of grass by the road. The patch harbored a few dandelions and one of which had a Bee... which stung him. "Ahh!! There's a fucking bee!" Jetstorm screetched and he swatted the squished bug off his elbow. Slipstream ignored the criminals and ran to his brothers aid. "Did it sting you?!" He asked. Jetstorm suowed him his arm, which was already incredibly red and hot. "Oh damn, do you have you epilepsy with you?!" His older brother asked. Jetstorm shook his head, denying the incredible itching pain. Slipstream grabbed Jetstorms bag and slung it over his shoulder and helped the black haired boy up.

"We need to get home now! The apartment building isn't too far!" Slipstream yelled as he started to jog. Jetstorm followed him, running as fast as he could. The air that rushed past him made the swollen would hurt much worse.

The boys sprinted into the building and into the elevator, clicking the button for floor seven out of nine. The elevator was large since this apartment complex was rather huge compared to its height of nine stories. Jetstorm plopped exhausted in the linoleum floor. "Jet! Are you okay?!" The red (dyed) headed boy asked. Jetstorm nodded even though his whole arm was starting to break out. "It's ok," slipstream soothed him while looking at the digital display. "Our floor is right after this."

The elevator dinged and Slipstream practically carried his brother to their apartment. They ran for just a bit longer than they would have liked, the doors were a bit farther apart since each place was practically a whole condo. They reached their apartment door and Slipstream jiggled the handle. They sighed a great sigh of relief that their dad was home and they rushed inside. Jetstorm sat on their couch, now having trouble breathing. "DAD!" Slipstream called out in a panic. Drift rushed out of his room into the living room. "Yes?" He asked. "Epipens! Jetstorm! Bee!" Slipstream called out, searching the house for the item.

Jetstorms skin was fully flushed by the time they got his medicine. "What happened?" Drift asked, his blue eyes showing distress.

Slipstream explained everything. Even the robbery. Drift looked far more concerned now. "If you ever see that gang again you stay far, far away from them. Understand?" He commanded. "They were only bank robbers. I'm sure we can handle..." Jetstorm paused when he saw the stern look in his father's eyes.

"Yeah... stay away I get it."

{a few days later: Saturday}

Drift stood at the front of his newly opened dojo on a platform raised about an inch. He had always wanted to open one up, but he continued his bounty hunting job since it brought him so much money.

He had his kids practicing their kickboxing, as in his mind in was and essential basic to know when learning to fight in any style. "Two jabs, not three Jetstorm. Discipline. And Slipstream, left hook not right hook." He instructed. His only students were his kids till an officer and a pale teenage boy walked in. Drift approached them curiously. "Hello?" He greeted. "Hey, are you the owner of this dojo?" The Officer asked. Drift nodded and glanced at his kids who had stopped training to see what was happening. "Let us go to my office," he said to the Officer. He led them there, telling his kids to practice their flexibility while he was busy, before he shut the door. Drift looked at the kid then the cop.

"Sir," the cop took off his cap and held out his hand for a handshake, standing almost eye level with the dojo master. "... sir," Drift took his hand. "I'm Lieutenant Prime but you can call me Bumblebee, the kid here calls himself Sideswipe."

Drift nodded toward both of them, "I am Rikuto, you may call me Drift." He still wondered what was going on. Lieutenant Bumblebee told the kid to wait outside before explaining the full story. Appreantly he was in the foster care system but wasn't given to a very good family, only using his for money the got from the foster program. Appearantly the lieutenant just wanted him to be safe and Drift agreed this might be one of the best options, given the fact this "Sideswipe" was trying to become involved in gangs and such things. He needed discipline and a safe space in his mind. "I'll pay the price to keep him training here for a long as I can." Lieutenant Bumblebee explained. "There is no need, I was in a similar spot. People can be cruel," Drift replied.

The Lieutenant assumed that Drift was talking about his kid life and thanked him before leaving with the kid still there. Of course he had no reason to think otherwise but for some reason those words he said made him start thinking about his ex husband... Shadowraker... the way he was...

The shook his head. He didn't need to think about him. He had students to train.

Maybe he just needed a little bit of therapy.