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Static. The camera is unfocused, moving, travelling across concrete traverse. The blur is blue and hazy, as the image progresses. As the miasma evaporates, the camera shows people. Hundreds and hundreds of people, marching like drones, but in so many different directions, their uniform paths interlocking at awkward angles. The camera moves faster now, allowing just a fleeting glance at this disorganised society, as instead we approach a monolith-like apartment building, its lifeless walls stretching ever upwards. The scene rests, however, at the bottom of this construction, the overused doorways, the entrance to this desperate place.
Paying no mind to solid concrete, the camera delves inside the building, and up the elevator shaft, finally settling on a higher level, and with a sharp turn, entering a corridor of identical doorways. There is a scurrying, and someone or something darts past us. This dark figure, its features hidden from our view through the lens, is in pursuit of another. The smaller character, cloaked for anonymity and appearing to be carrying an ancient tome, seems panicked, his panting heavy as he seeks escape. Stairways, open doors, anything he might use to escape this most nimble of pursuers.
And a stairway he finds, though he nearly trips on his own cloak as he flees up them. His larger, but faster, adversary hurries after him, bounding up the stairs like a wild amami, a dark black cowl around his lithe torso, held together by a silver brooch in the symbol of an omega. This cowl seems to restrict the pursuer long enough for his prey to escape through an ajar doorway. A non-descript woman screams, a baby cries, furniture is flung aside with no mind in the midst of the chase, and the fleeing man finds, to his fortune, a staircase, which allows him yet another ascent.
THIEF: �No, no! Back off, leave me be!�
But the pursuer does not back off, approaching still, as the thief now hurries down the new corridor, glancing over his shoulder at the cowled figure bounding towards him in an erratic manner. The camera catches a glimpse of the hunter�s hair, blonde, tucked at the bottom inside the dark cowl. Finally the thief has ascended his last flight of stairs, bringing the pair to the roof of the apartment block, where the thief stares on in abject horror at the approaching figure. He is grabbed roughly by the neck, causing the frightened pleas to begin again.
THIEF: �Stop! Stop! You can k-kill me, but we are� eternal. There will be others. You can�t stop our cause!�
The cowled pursuer stares hard at the thief through tinted sunglasses. Despite his daring cries, the thief shudders in fear; the pursuer does not act, however. He seems frozen, uncertain of what his next task should be. Should he act on impulse, and risk a mistake? Should he persist onwards, unknowing? Or should he wait, wait for further instruction? He waits.
In a last ditch moment of truth, the thief slams a concealed katar into the hand of his captor, freeing himself just long enough to make his escape. Leaping haphazardly from the side of the building, the thief disappears cat-like into the night. The cowled figure seems unperturbed at his loss, only holding his wounded hand to stop the blood flow. Slowly he shakes his head, as though awakening. Behind him a new figure appears, darkly clad, long brown hair cascading over an irritated glower. Talon pulls the black cowl off the shoulders of his partner, The Jackrabbit, who still stands in his usual blue tartan shorts and black NLW t-shirt, panting for breath after the long chase.
TALON: �And so the plan fails, Jay. You had him within your grasp, and yet he slipped away like hope in a graveyard. For the second time I had access to him, and yet he escaped.
Fortunately, my friend, for once the mistake was not yours. And again, the mistake was with my pride.
Perhaps once I might have fought my own battles, and won my own victory. Yet as I change, as the rage has grown, and the wars expanded, I find that I must rely more and more on others. However willing they might be.�
As Talon speaks, The Jackrabbit has examined his injured hand and now finally takes in his surroundings. The distant buildings, beyond the edge of the roof, so high above everything below.
TALON: �Questions that I would never once have asked are now falling from lips imbued with perfect clarity. Must I fight? Does it profit me? A question asked by one who would once have strode fearlessly onto any battlefield to fight any foe � for no reason but to quench the blood lust. And yet now I would rather send a lackey to fight and to hunt, while I watch from afar.
I keep my distance, and this is, of course, a mistake. When men were great and free and strong, people knew this. People knew that true might came from action, not from words, and that only your own actions truly counted, not those that come from you filtered by a thousand subordinates.
I have realised my mistake, and I might wish that others would realise their own. Yet that is not the fate the ancient Norn�s weave into our world. Our fate is rarely to learn, but merely to exist, compounding and exacerbating ancient follies. A message that perhaps Kane and Jackson might read, and understand.�
The Jackrabbit is now growing ever more conscious, lifting his sunshades to rub his eyes. Looking almost casually at the roof-edge, he slowly scratches his head.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Tal�?�
TALON: �Underestimating your opponent, Society. A foolish mistake, a classic repeated for thousands upon thousands of years. As the Cyclops underestimated Odysseus and Goliath underestimated David��
THE JACKRABBIT: �Oh oh, and the Big Bad Wolf un�stimated the Three Little Pigs�!�
A telling look from The Enigma silences The Jackrabbit without words.
TALON: �� And so you doubt us. You dismiss us as silliness, when you do not attempt to understand our actions. You dismiss the high-spirited capering of The Jackrabbit as the foolishness of an inept child, yet misunderstand that beneath is the mind of tactician.
And I dare not even guess what idiocy you believe me capable of.�
It is at this point that The Jackrabbit finally realises where he is; the building edge is just inches from his feet, and all the memories flood back. He begins flailing his arms and shouting wildly, scampering away from the edge and trying to hide himself beneath Talon�s trenchcoat.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Height heights heights, don�t like �um. Tal, Tal, it�s high up here, real high, get us down! Get us down!�
Talon simply puts a hand on the shoulder of The Jackrabbit.
TALON: �Calm, Jay. You have no reason to fear heights, pay no mind to your irrational fears. It is time for u-�
Talon is cut off however, by the sound of someone making a forced cough behind them.
Ahem.
Stevie Sol approaches the two, clad as before in his dishevelled suit and yellow tie, his baseball cap slanted to one side. A strange smirk crosses his face.
STEVIE SOL: �I�ve come to collect The �Rabbit.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �There�s a� a rabbit here!?�
STEVIE SOL: ��you, Jay.�
TALON: �Mr Sol. I had hoped to meet you.�
STEVIE SOL: �Ah, Talon, same back at ya�. We could do with a chat��
TALON: �Now is not convenient. We are leaving.�
Their eyes meet, and there is a second of tense silence. Talon steps forward, subtly repositioning himself between Sol and Jackrabbit. Stevie Sol notices this, and shakes his head, almost patronisingly.
STEVIE SOL: �I�m afraid I can�t allow that, Talon. �Rabbit needs taking in, you know that, he knows that, NLW officials have ruled and authorised it��
TALON: �I am surprised you feel yourself capable to comment on what Jay needs. I know he does not trust you, for he does not trust easily. You are a product of society, Sol, naught but a fool in a suit. Know that whatever you seek to do to him will only cause more harm than good-��
STEVIE SOL: �The Jackrabbit is ill, Talon, unstable��
TALON: �Unstable?!�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Can we g-go now, Tal?�
TALON: ��Do you even understand what unstable is? You like so many others speak of an experience that is beyond you. You are a weak man, Sol, a pitiful attempt at control and safeguards � you do not have the strength of will to experience instability.
If something about you were to change suddenly, you would accept it, you would not begin to crack. If some outside force were to alter you, you would not fight it, you could not begin to. The mould that created you was flawed and sloppy.
I have been unstable, for at that point I was truly strong. Something assaulted me, and the pillars that maintained my self were destroyed. That which ensured that Talon truly was Talon was damaged. And instability set in. I have lost more than anyone-�
STEVIE SOL: �Anyone except Jay��
TALON: �Anyone� except� Jay��
And Talon lunges, having heard enough, leaving The Jackrabbit still cowering where he had stood. A hard fist catches Steve Sol on the side of the jaw, knocking him down. Almost immediately, Talon restrains himself, standing over his fallen foe, but Sol looks up at him, rubbing the welt already raising on his face. With his free hand, he lifts his cell phone up for Talon to see.
Dialled 1: Securicor
STEVIE SOL: �It�s too late, Talon. They�re already coming.�
There is not even a moment�s pause. The pair head quickly for the stairway leading back inside the apartment block, knowing that the law enforcement would be quick to respond to Sol�s call. Talon grabs The Jackrabbit, jerking him to attention and practically dragging him along behind him as they head down the stairs, leaving Stevie Sol on the rooftop still clutching his cell phone. They pass the woman in her apartment, garnering another scream and restarting her baby�s wails, before reaching the corridors that The Jackrabbit only moments ago pursued a thief through.
They pass locked doors and pad noisily over concrete flooring, when suddenly they pull to a halt at Talon�s behest. The Enigma listens intently, and The Jackrabbit notices, cupping both hands around his ear to, apparently, increase his hearing capacity. He needn�t bother though, the sound of many approaching footsteps is clear. Talon gives a growl, and pulls both pieces of his broken lead piping from his trench coat, almost as though readying for battle.
TALON: �They come, Jay. The fools. To enforce an idiotic edict. As Society would enforce upon us. Their contradictory morals would inflict us with a controlled anarchy, a uniform divergence. An impossibility to further crush the fragility of the human spirit. And so, we fight.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Don�tchya worry, Tal. We�ll get �em, we�ll bish-bash-bosh �em good��
TALON: �Your optimism knows no bounds, my delusional friend.�
Exactly as Talon anticipated, a group of armed enforcers reach the top of the stairway, clad in body armour. They notice Fusion stood together just a corridor from them, and begun to rush. There is no intention for peaceful resolution, and Talon notes mentally that Steve Sol must have warned the law not to attempt negotiation with him. The Jackrabbit, meanwhile, appears to have adopted some form of �crouching tiger� karate stance, though his limbs bend and contort at almost impossible and impractical angles.
TALON: �Dare I ask, what are you doing?�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Kung-fu, silly! It�s �Stooping Rabbit.�
Talon rolls his eyes. The enforcers have reached them now, though their shouts of �stand down� and �raise your hands� go unheard. The quickest (and most reckless) of the enforcers reaches the pair; and is met by a stiff lead piping shot to the skull. The enforcer crumples to the ground, making the other�s slow their pace, moving more methodically towards the pair. Two guards charge in together, the first wrestling Talon backwards, his head low to avoid any lead piping shots, but he is outclassed by the near-seven-footer, and is thrown roughly down. The lead piping makes a sickening sound against the man�s ribs. Meanwhile,
THE JACKRABBIT: �Hywwwwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!�
A stunned enforcer is greeted by a forceful karate chop to the gut, doubling him over. The Jackrabbit stands over the man, looking highly proud of himself; two firm elbows to the back of the neck, and the man is down on the floor next to his two comrades. Jackrabbit immediately returns to the Stooping Rabbit stance. Fusion stand tall, backing off gradually to the staircase , as Talon easily fells another adventurous foe.
TALON: �Keeping moving back, Jay. I will deal with these.�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Awwww but Tal, I wantsa play some as well!�
TALON: �But you do not-�
THE JACKRABBIT: �Hywwwwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!�
The nearest enforcer finds himself face-to-face with a karate-enfused Jackrabbit, but wisely goes for the first blow, landing a square baton shot to the wrestler�s face. The Jackrabbit�s sunglasses make a nasty cracking sound, but before the enforcer can follow-up his assault, he winds up with a fist between his testicles, and falls to the ground in a groaning, crumpled heap.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Those were $5 sunglasses, asshole!�
The Jackrabbit straightens up, channelling the spirit of Johnny Cage.
Talon is bemused to say the least, but continues to force Jackrabbit backwards still, making their way up the stairs a step at a time. Another guard falls down, clutching his bleeding skull from a thunderous lead piping shot, and the remaining enforcers begin to assemble a more concentrated effort in their attack.
TALON: �The door, Jay, get through the door��
The Jackrabbit has other ideas.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Hywwwwaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Yyyuwuuuhuuhuhuhuh! Hwuadubdubudbudubudubuh!�
In a moment of uninspired inspiration, The Jackrabbit launches himself into a picture-perfect Lui Kang Flying Bicycle Kick;
THE JACKRABBIT: �Hwuhahahahahahahhahahahahahaha!�
only to land flat on his ass two steps down.
Talon growls loudly, and without a moment�s hesitation, launches himself from the top step in a textbook swandive, landing flawlessly amidst the grouped enforcers below. The men fall down like tenpins, but Talon is quick to his feet, grabbing his fallen comrade, and dragging him down the stairs, still on his behind, to the nearest exit. The Jackrabbit is still, inexplicably, cackling.
THE JACKRABBIT: �FATALITY!�
Fade from gold. The camera is focused on a wooden joist, barely illuminated by flickering light. The camera slowly zooms out, and more of the room becomes visible.
Clutching the joist, and many others above it, are hundreds of birds. Their cold eyes stare directly at the camera, the dull fire of a single torch reflecting in the black, beady gaze. From the ruffled look of their feathers it is apparent that the wind whistles into the room, and as the camera pans about, it is apparent why.
The conical shape of the room, evidently the roof a tall tower, has been broken open by an unknown force, but it seems likely that it suffered a direct hit from the lightening that litters the plain to be seen beyond it. At a noise from ground level, the camera begins to turn, but not before a bedraggled rook flies through the broken roofing to take a roost beside its fellow birds.
The source of the commotion is quite apparent. The camera centres on a man clad in a damp black t-shirt, emblazoned proudly with the NLW logo � with blue tartan shorts and long black wrestling boots beneath. His blonde hair is sodden, and stuck to his skull and shoulders. Beside him there is a cloak, and had he worn this perhaps he would be less wet.
However, the dampness does not seem to perturb him, as he goes gleefully about his unusual task of releasing rabbits into the wet room, humming cheerfully as he does so.
THE JACKRABBIT: �Hum hum hum, oh wow, I forgot to say �Heya �Rabbit Fans�! I guess I�ll do it now, then. Heya �Rabbit Fans! Well me and Tal got away from the nasty people trying to pokey-poke me, and now we�re back here in the tower-place. I comed up to this room with a super secret special purpose; to put some rabbits in which Tal�s birdy-things. Y�see, Talon likes his birdys, and The Jackrabbit likes his rabbits� and Talon likes The Jackrabbit, and The Jackrabbit likes Talon, that�s why we�re Fusion. So I decided to put these rabbits here so they could be bestest friends with the birdys, and maybe they can then win some Tag Team golds like we�re gonna at Uprisening.
Of course, them Sauces City peoples are gonna try to stop us, if they can concentrate on the match long enough without being distractioned by gun shooting and werevamps and Aphrowhatsits. Vinnie is real busy with his Italy dudes, trying to get pizza from them for free, methinks, but at least he remembered Fusion, for a little while, unlike Jacko. Of course, Vinnie thinks me and Tal are just like the rest of the peoples here in En-El-Dub, he thinks we don�t understand him and Jacko. We understand you, Vinnie, loud and clear. �You�re the Jugganaut, bitch!�
As for Jacko, well when he�s not fiddy-kiddling or summat, he�s off fighting monsters and being a likkle angel, looking after good boys and girls, and bringing coal to them on the naughty list. At least, I think that�s what angels do. But I don�t really care about angels all that much, they don�t hop much, and I don�t care that Jacko is invincunerable, �cos I seen Troy, I�ll just kicky him in the heel.�
The Jackrabbit laughs like a maniac, his voice echoing crazily around the rookery. He seems oblivious to the highly-curious eye the birds of prey are giving the newly-placed rabbits, hopping along unawares.
THE JACKRABBIT: �We really wants them Tag Team belts. We�re gonna be champeenos. Mayhaps no one expects it, mayhaps people call us �underdogs� but that�s just silly� I�m an underrabbit, obviously! The �Rabbit Fans of En-El-Dub want champeenos they can be pwoud of, champeenos they can look up to, or down to if they�re �specially tall, and champeenos that can make En-El-Dub even more betterer than it already is. Those champeenos are Fusion, Talon and The Jackrabbit� that�s me! Sauces City may think they�re tough, Sauces City may think they�re untouchable, but Fusion thinks different� Fusion thinks that Fusion will get The Last Laugh! Ahhahahahahahahahahahaaaa!�
Off camera, there is the creak of a trapdoor opening, followed by a slam and an exclamation of indrawn breath.
TALON: �Jay� what do you think you are doing?�
Jackrabbit looks at his handiwork with a guileless grin, as the perspective spins to focus on Talon. His face is creased with a frown, and he is clad as before � except now he wears a dark brown cloak. We hear an indrawn breath from behind us as The Jackrabbit prepares to speak, but Talon cuts him off.
TALON: �It would be best, Jay, if you remained here. A dangerous game is forming about us. I should have lost my part of it today, yet it appears that I am still competitor, and have somehow been granted a reprieve.
You yourself are hunted. Perhaps your foe is the less dangerous, yet still I cannot afford for you to be taken. It would be safest if you remain here when we are not competing.
Although, perhaps, I will regret bringing this annoyance upon my tower.�
The camera pans about, and as Talon speaks behind him the first bird of prey swoops down to begin its feast on a hapless rabbit below.
**We feel a flicker of consciousness, just enough to be aware of three anxious faces sitting in a semi-circle and staring into the guttering flames of a campfire.**
FIRST VOICE: �Well, we know he did it. We saw what that idiot looked like after. We can get �em now!�
**The second man to speak is again the elder, his calm and controlled tones laced unusually with anxiety and stress.**
SECOND VOICE: �Don�t be so foolish, brother. We did not get the proof, we do not have the memory. The only person who has the memory is in that tower.�
FIRST VOICE: �Let�s get it then. He ain�t as protected as Talon. We could be in and out before he-�
SECOND VOICE: �They�re in his tower. Brother, we could not get in there undetected, not again. Besides, they�re together now. We need them apart.�
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