Harlan Higgs and the Tower of Hashimoto

[Harlan Higgs]

"Yes. Of course it will. You have nothing to fear, Mister Higgs. This is merely an attempt to stop something much worse before it spirals out of control."

Harlan loosened his grip on the phone, as the voice added one last thing. "Gramba the Hutt hopes you will attend. The top of Hashimoto Tower. Noon tomorrow."

The Ravnos put down the reciever and stared at his Majordomo, Charlie. "Well? What do you think?"

The bald man shrugged. "You'd know better than me, boss. Hutts wanna parlay. It could turn out good if we can get them to ease up on us. The Westside ain't exactly been very genial."

Harlan tutted. "Hmm. Good point. Alright, I'll go. I'm glad to see someone in the Omniverse knows how to settle matters like gentlemen." He stood up from the desk, and straightened his suit. "Make sure the chopper is ready tomorrow morning. I'll bring a couple of the boys with me as a display."

Charlie nodded and left his office, leaving the boss of the Jacks alone with his papers, files, and maps. The Casino was running smoothly, even better after that mess with the Space Marine. Spectacle always generated interest. If he could settle the war with the Orks and Hutts, then he could focus on more entertaining concerns.

That conversation was going through his head, along with the thwip-thwip-thwip of the helicoptor rotors as they approached the helipad of Hashimoto Tower, a man in flight deck gear waving them in with bright orange batons.

"Look sharp, boys. Let's get down to business." Harlan said, drawing out a cigar and clamping it in his mouth.

[Harlan Higgs]

"Groo na, pachantha doo. Soh tek ma cha huhngo, brep chooga? Hoh hoh hoh."

"Gramba the Hutt extends his courtesies, and wishes to know if you had a pleasant flight over." The Twi'lek was dressed in a very ostentatious red robe trimmed with gold. The Hutt itself was wearing a large wide brimmed feathered hat and many golden necklaces. 

Harlan nodded, his men seated behind him in wooden chairs lining the office walls. "Yeah. Pretty smooth sailing. Now, let's get down to brass tacks." He inhaled deeply on his cigar, and blew a cloud of smoke at the twi'lek assistant, who coughed pitifully. "You and the Ork mafia are warring with the Jacks, simply cuz we have positive relations with the Westside."

The Hutt's eyes narrowed, his thick mucousy voice bellowing with anger. "Gra cha tho klembo! Pagh ta Westside muk do vimbal da ASSASSINATION!" The slug's tail thwapped the ground, as the twi'lek translated. "The one know as Princess Hellstab assassinated a family member of the great Gramba the Hutt. There is a blood curse upon them and their allies. You of course understand this."

Harlan stubbed out his cigar in a crystal ashtray and folded his arms together. "Listen. I get it, but that ain't my bag of dollars. Me and my boys wasn't nowhere near that. We didn't even catch the light about it until the Orks was knocking hello on me turf."

The Twi'lek continued, apparently following a script as the Hutt dug a slimy hand into a globe of wriggling nightmares, dropping them into his cavernous maw. "That being said....if you are not against the Westside in their conflict...meaning you aid us in wiping them out...then you are unfortunately our enemy."

Harlan frowned, and rose from his chair, gesturing to his men. "It would seem that way, pasta head. Come on boys, let's g-"

Blood.

He smelt it, and heard the knives go back into their sheaths. The Hutt's personal security force, blacked out in combat armor and masks, were standing over the gurgling bodies of the two Jacks he'd brought with him. Behind him, the hutt and his advisor spoke as one. "Then you cannot be allowed to leave."

Harlan whirled around to see sparkles in the air as they both disappeared, some form of active transport whisking them away.

And then the glass windows of the office shattered, a high pitched, dopplered whine sounding in the air as it got closer and closer and clos-

THWIP

Everything went black.

[Harlan Higgs]

-plink-

Harlan slowly opened his eyes, the metallic sound of something hitting the floor infringing upon the wuiet oblivion he'd been submerged in. His vision came into focus upon a large caliber bullet, still smeared with his brain matter...but it was rather red. The subtle scent of something he recognized as dead man's blood wafted up from it.

So that's how they'd put him down so quickly. Someone in the Hutt's employ had working knowledge of Kindred...or a familiarity with the multitude of vampiric weaknesses. Heh. Too bad they hadn't tried garlic. He would have eaten it and then slaughtered them. 

Speaking of slaughter...he realized he was hanging upside down, his wrists bound together and his legs shackled to the ceiling. His hat and shirt were gone, leaving his scarred torso bare as he hung there, suspended. It was some kind of bathroom or something, but with all the toilets and fixtures removed and drains sunk into the tile. Ah. Torture room. Figured.

"Oh good. You awake." He squinted towards the voice to reveal a bent, but by no means small, figure. His species revealed as he walked into the light. An pld Ork, with a grey hair and one eye. "You are Higgs. Good to meet you. I am Thragga Soft-Knife." Harlan rolled his eyes. "Torture is useless, you know. I can withstand anything you throw at me."

The Ork chuckled and wheeled in a stainless steel cart. "Oh, Gramba know. I get to do exploratory autopsy. Cut you into little bits and see what make you tick. Then mail pieces back to your gang." Harlan tried to focus, keep him talking. "You know I'm coming right back, greenskin. I'll be on your ass like nothing you've ever seen before. Like this."

The Ork laughed again as he picked up a knife and forced it through Harlan's dead skin, making an incision above his kidney. "No good, dead man. Whole building severed from Astral Verse. Ork Shamans touch it in a much more expert way. Can see the tracks you leave. No illusions to eat me while I work."

Shit. It was true, Harlan couldn't pull anything from the Dream. His soul felt isolated, alone. He started to think, plans running through his head as the Ork started slicing and prodding him, trying to elicit a reaction. He wasn't exactly lacking for blood...but the only thing he could do with it was....

"Ghazkul!" Thragga swore as his scalpel broke against Harlan's fortitude enhanced skin. "Miserable blood sucker." The old Ork turned away and Harlan sent the blood in his body coursing through his muscles, heaving his legs down and making the steel anchors they attached to buckle and pull out of the tile. 

"Wha-" The ork turned around in shock, only to catch the end of the chain across his eye.  Kicking out woth one leg, Harlan shoved the cart of torture implements away and snapped his ankle restraints. While the torturer was recovering, the Ravnos bent down and wrenched the chain tying his hands out as well, snapping the connectors and wrapping them around his fists. 

Thragga came at him swinging, and buried a dagger in his chest to no effect. The vampire tackled him to the ground, using the length of chain dangling from his wrists to slowly throttle the life out of him. As the orc choked and sputtered, Harlan leaned in close and hissed. "You tell yer fookin' shaymans that you all just made a big mistake. You think we was a problem before? You don't know what a problem I can fookin' be, boyo."

And with that, Thragga's windpipe collapsed. Harlan stood up and kicked the corpse, before looting his pockets for anything useful. All he found was a collection of assorted personal items, necklaces and such, and a security card. Picking a few of the knives and scalpels off the ground, he crept over to the door, chains jingling.

Peeking out, he saw no one in the halls. Lining one wall were expensive glass windows, large enough for Harlan to see from the hallway. To see the unique challenge presented to him.

He was forty stories up, in a building full of enemy mobsters.

A grin split his lips.

'Just like the 70's. Time to go to work."

[Harlan Higgs]

Dead Dread Supernova

He'd seen his brand new helicopter already being flown away while looking out the window, so that had been removed as an avenue of escape. The only way out was down. Through the building, unless he jumped. The Ravnos didn't feel like spending a month in Torpor after a fall like that though, so that was his other backup plan out.

Down a stairwell, he paused at the door marked "39" and slowly edged it open, peering out through the crack of light. It showed him an empty hallway, with two burly ork guards standing at the end looking bored. "Yub chakka no grosh. Kejom thoo." One of the grunted at the other, who rolled his eyes and proceeded towards the door Harlan was crouched behind.

As the ork drew near, the door blew open and knocked him bodily against the wall. Harlan came out a split second later, a fist rocketing towards the greenskin's ugly mug. It impacted with a wet crunch, just as the other guard opened fire with a yell. A jury rigged rifle spitting pellets of lead towards them.

The injured ork growled in defiance and tried to struggle back, but Harlan caught his arm, twisted him around, and forced him bodily up the hallway into the oncoming tide of bullets. The smelly soon to be corpse jerked and danced as his friend filled him full of holes in the desperate attempt to put down the vampire charging him.

While the orc was fumbling with a clip to reload, Harlan kicked the dead ork he'd used to shield himself forward, climbing up it's back, and jumping towards the second guard, hand outstretched. A wet gurgling ensued as the dead man's knife palm went right through the thug, coming right out of his back. Harlan could hear shouts from further down the hallway, which led into a maze of cubicles and offices.

Grabbing the rifle from the floor, he snapped the clip into it and pulled back the slide, taking cover just as another hail of bullets peppered the spot he'd been standing. " 'e's loose! The blood drinker's loose!" Harlan heard the words coming from the dead ork's radio, leaning out and emptying the clip as surpressing fire as he ran down the hallway.

He burst into the main office floor, shouldering his way through a wooden panel. The assault rifle clicked empty as he stomped through a green corpse, throwing the empty gun at another grimacing foe. It was a constant, fluid brawl, bullets plinking off and through Harlan's skin as he used desk chairs, computers, ripped off arms, anything he could get his hands on to beat his way through the mass of orcish gangsters.

The Hutt's magic had done it's work, and the Ravnos was beginning to tire. He had no illusions to draw upon, little in the way of weapons, and the smell of orc blood was beginning to make his stomach turn. Ugh. So fungal and unnatural.

Finally, he took cover in an office, the floor splattered with guts and the groans of dead men. Harlan panted and spat, digging in his torso and forearmd with a pen to remove the rounds that had penetrated him. He wouldn't be able to put on a show of force like that again anytime soon. Not without a pick me up. And not from these fucking orcs, he wanted real blood. Human blood.

There was an airvent in office's upper wall, large enough to fit through. Apparently the Hutt wanted his underlings well oxygenated. Fantastic.

Harlan ripped the dampers off and crawled into the cramped metal passageways, his eyes glinting as he proceeded forwards into the maze of ductwork. The creeping slaughter was advancing downward, floor bu floor. He just had to be a bit more...subtle, for this next part.

[Blink]

The security room was frantic as all of the monitors continued to clicker in and out of various rooms of the tower. The alarm lights above the green-skinned creatures shined crimson as they attempted to figure out what was going on.

"Where did he go?!" Someone asked.

"I saw him go through the kitchens!"

"No, he was in the offices!"

"He's one man, why can't you just find him!?"

"Silence!"

The orcs in the security room were panicking, trying to locate the one-man army that was rampaging through their tower. Finally, it took the sound of a fist making contact with a table to silence everyone. All eyes turned towards the back of the room where the largest orc in the room stood. His mammoth-sized hand was curled inwards, resting where it landed on the long table. He blinked through his frowning face, teeth like tusks sticking out from his lips.

"Creed." The big man said simply. Once again, all of the eyes of the orcs in the monitor room turned to look elsewhere, this time to the corner of the room. "You are up."

In the far, dark corner of the room was a muscled human with long, blonde hair. He had a cigar between his lips and his big feet up on the table in front of him. He smirked at the statement from the head orc in charge. He moved to put his cigar down in the ash tray on the table and sit up straight. "Finally," he said as he stood up.

"Hopefully you are worth your money."

The man known as Victor Creed cracked his knuckles. "I'm good for it," he informed his emerald-skinned contractor. "What's his name?" He nodded his head towards the monitors, which were still flickering from room to room to locate the individual loose in the building.

"Harlan Higgs," the orc said, clearly annoyed with the situation.

"Sounds like a wussy," Creed determined. "I'll be back in a few." With that air of confidence and slight disrespect, he moved to walk of the room and find his prey.

[Harlan Higgs]

By the time Victor Creed made it upstairs to the floor Higgs had last been spotted on, the scene had changed from the climactic firefight on the cameras. Now everything was eerie and still, smoke curling underneath shattered, flickering light fixtures. The stench of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air. There were dents in the cheap dividers that separated each cubicle, an orc with his head through a computer screen, another gently swinging from a ceiling fan. The blade jutted out through his chest as his corpse rotated peacefully. "Oh, he likes to play, eh?" Creed snorted to himself, carefully moving through the aftermath.

A clattering sound echoed from across the open office, followed by a loud thump. Cautiously, the blonde haired man moved towards it. Hunched over, he moved like the animal that was his namesake, a predator surveying an unknown situation. Stalking another predator...the mutual affectations of two creatures of violence mixing before their inevitable meeting. 

A corpse lay across the hallway floor. Young looking. Orcish, but not entirely. His skin wasn't green enough, the brow not fully pronounced. Fangs too small. Half orc. 

Creed stopped and frowned. Something wasn't quiet right...he sniffed at the air. Blood, smoke, yes...but something else. Very close. Gunpowder....cigar smoke. And cologne.

He moved his head, tucking and rolling forward as the breeze from something passing where his skull had been seconds before tousled his hair. Whirling on his heels, crouched on all fours, the man looked up at the bare chested figure of Harlan Higgs, armed with a cracked glass paperweight. The Ravnos smiled, tossing the globe between his hands. "Well now...looks like they sent me something a bit beefi-"

The wind was forced from his body as Creed pounced, tackling him bodily and smashing the vampire's side with his claws. Harlan hissed as his head cracked against the floor, eyes glowing red as he raised his fists and scrabbled with the contractor. "Stay...still and...i'll kill you quick!" 

"Piss off, pretty boy." Harlan jammed his thumbs in his foe's eyesockets and squeezed, his nails jabbing Creed painfully. Forcing him off the downed prey, Harlan rolled to the side and aimed a donkey kick at the temporarily blinded man's knee. The crack of his strike hitting home brought a smile to his lips as he got to the floor.

"Too bad you didn't find me five minutes ago, friend..." The vampire's voice sounded as Creed's sight returned to show him his target melt into the shadows. "The mutt was the first decent meal I've found here....and now I'm topped up."

"Catch me if you can..." The voice sounded from all around the contractor, mocking and cold.

[Blink]

The man who was known as Sabretooth in a previous life growled as he wiped away blood from his stubbled face. He had to use a nearby bulkhead to lift himself up, leaning up against it as he popped his knee back in place. The pain shot up his spine for a moment, but it didn't take long for the bone to set itself back in place and begin to gradually heal. He had underestimated his prey and paid for it. Whoever this Harlan Higgs was, he clearly demanded more respect then the mutant had given him before. He promised himself that would not happen again.

Victor Creed kept his body tense as he walked from one office space to another. He kept his head on a swivel, looking around into every corner of the space. His claws remained jutting out from his fingertips. His nostrils flared as he sniffed out where the mobster was hiding. He couldn't detect anything, but he knew that he was there. He could feel the eyes on him. Mocking him. He did not like the sensation of being watched.

"Come on out, you pansy!" Creed shouted at the stillness. No response. He carefully stepped over a greenish corpse as he moved towards the exit to the office. He pushed the door open and stepped into an open corridor. A loud clanging sound drew his attention to the right. When stepped into the hall and turned, there was nothing there but a small black trash can rolling against the nearest wall. "So that's your game." Victor smirked. "Draw me one way, but..." Out of nowhere, he spun around and swiped a backhand. He found nothing.

"Too predictable!"

Creed spun around, back where he had initially been facing but now was face to face with Harlan Higgs. He received a punch to the face for being too gullible, followed by a second one from Harlan's off hand, sending him backwards. He stumbled back, but managed to keep himself upright by spinning around and planting his feet. He wiped his face with his knuckles, though no blood had been drawn this time. "Sneaky bastard."

"You're strong, but you're an idiot." Harlan dismissed.

Sabretooth put his hands up. One of them clenched into a fist, while the other remained open with claws extended. He growled a bit under his breath. "Maybe if you fight me like a man, I'll show you how little that matters." His breath seemed to quicken as his excitement rose. This was what he came here for. A real fight. The first competitive fight he had since he ended up in his God-forsaken place.

Harlan Higgs put his dukes up as well. There was nothing fancy by his fighting pose. He put his hands up as if he was preparing for a boxing match. Atop his bloodied knuckles was a shiny set of brass knuckles. That explained why his cheap shots had hurt so much. "Be careful what you wish for." Harlan warned.

Set-up for a one-on-one hallway fight. Had Harlan equip his knuckle dusters.

[Hiro Protagonist]

Thud.

Crunch. Whack.

Skff. Crunch. Splat.

It was brutal. 

There was no room in the hallway to bob and weave, or dance around. No opportunity for fancy footwork or complex dodging. Just two men, trading blows back-and-forth, beating absolutely piss out of each other.

Creed recovered from yet another punch, his words slurred as mending bones cracked in his face. "I'm going to wait until you're tired, and then pull you apart limb by li-"

Crack.

"Shut the fuck up and go down already." Harlan hissed, which turned into a much more forceful expulsion of air as the mutant's clawed fist crushed the other half of his ribcage. 

The vampire stumbled back, spitting up a gob of dark dried blood. Slowly retreating, giving up more ground towards the only way out of this alive. The mutant was right. Creed was stronger, and Harlan was already beaten to shit. Without the advantage of enough open space, the Ravnos was going to die.

He kept backpedaling, the look of bloodlust on the enforcer's face only getting more gleeful as Harlan took another few blows, the final one cracking him right in the face and dimming his vision. Backed against the door, he elbowed the panic bar and let it swing open. Sabretooth bared his and roared, leaping forward to tackle the vampire and end him.

With the last amount of strength he could muster, Harlan crouched and used the massive man's momentum against him, attempting to throw him down the stairs. Unfortunately, Creed had gotten too good of a grip on his flesh. They both went down together, in a frantic painful ball of violence. Kicking, gouging, striking, biting.

For 13 floors.

Crunch. Splat. Crrrk. Thud. Crack. Smack. Shrrk.


Please delete, posted with wrong Account

[Harlan Higgs]

Thud.

Crunch. Whack.

Skff. Crunch. Splat.

It was brutal. 

There was no room in the hallway to bob and weave, or dance around. No opportunity for fancy footwork or complex dodging. Just two men, trading blows back-and-forth, beating absolutely piss out of each other.

Creed recovered from yet another punch, his words slurred as mending bones cracked in his face. "I'm going to wait until you're tired, and then pull you apart limb by li-"

Crack.

"Shut the fuck up and go down already." Harlan hissed, which turned into a much more forceful expulsion of air as the mutant's clawed fist crushed the other half of his ribcage. 

The vampire stumbled back, spitting up a gob of dark dried blood. Slowly retreating, giving up more ground towards the only way out of this alive. The mutant was right. Creed was stronger, and Harlan was already beaten to shit. Without the advantage of enough open space, the Ravnos was going to die.

He kept backpedaling, the look of bloodlust on the enforcer's face only getting more gleeful as Harlan took another few blows, the final one cracking him right in the face and dimming his vision. Backed against the door, he elbowed the panic bar and let it swing open. Sabretooth bared his and roared, leaping forward to tackle the vampire and end him.

With the last amount of strength he could muster, Harlan crouched and used the massive man's momentum against him, attempting to throw him down the stairs. Unfortunately, Creed had gotten too good of a grip on his flesh. They both went down together, in a frantic painful ball of violence. Kicking, gouging, striking, biting.

For 13 floors.

Crunch. Splat. Crrrk. Thud. Crack. Smack. Shrrk.