By: KayeKytte After numerous foster-care families, Nikki has struck out on her own in the less reputable parts of Utoland City, searching for clues to where her missing brother is---because she is the only person who will believe that Taro is still alive. Determined to find her only living relative, she'll do anything at any cost....
Ragdoll, livin' in a movie
hot tramp, daddy's little cutie
so fine, they never see ya leavin'
by the back door.
Hot times, get it while it's easy
Don' mind, 'come on up an' see me.'
Ragdoll, baby won't ya do me
like ya done before...?
Ragdoll--Aerosmith
Three tousel-haired youngsters huddled together, whispering and giggling. From a close up standpoint, this view could have been cut from any number of parks, playgrounds or schoolyards. But this was no playground, instead a darkened blind alley in the nastiest backstreets of Utoland City. The three 'youngsters' were streetrats and were dividing up the day's haul.
Skitter, scrawny, sharp-featured and foul-mouthed was an accomplished filtch, working on becoming a first-class thief. His grand haul was from the backroom of an electronics store--some of the stuff he'd grabbed even still was working--and what wasn't might be, if he could scavange enough parts from the other things. Skitter was senior partner of the group at sixteen.
Dark haired, warm brown eyes resembling nothing more than a puppy left in the rain, Jinx was an accomplished conman at the ripe age of twelve. He had proved his worth tonight by scoring an entire take-out meal from a middle-aged, vacationing couple--enough food in one meal to feed these kids for several days if they could find a way to keep it from going bad or rats and cats from it. At the moment, *this* was the most important loot and the three settled down to scarf their dinner before anyone else could find them and take it away.
"Nikko-chan, you didn't show us yours.." Skitter commented around his fried rice, with a definite hint of greasy teen lust.
The filtch's amorous' attempt was not lost on the third member of the little 'gang', just ignored. Nikko, as the only female of the group, was used to such clumsy advances and didn't even bother responding anymore. She was a petty shoplifter, and although the boys didn't always appreciate the makeup or shinies she klepted, she also kept them in shoes, socks and gloves, so they allowed her some 'girl stuff' from time to time. Purple-glitter nail-polish glinted in the questionable light as she produced a fat leather wallet from inside the non-descript, much-too-big duster she was wearing, leaning carefully to one side so that Skitter's attempt to snatch it from her fingers went wide.
"Eat." the Japanese, although perfect had the oddest accent, one that she cultivated, instead of hid. "I'll divvy it up. You boys trust Nikki, don't you?" She fininshed off an egg-roll with a seductive air that should have been illegal, certainly for a fourteen-year-old, then opened up the wallet, going immediately for the cash. There was a moment's hesitation as her eyes fell on the secondary--very official-looking ID to the left of her latest victim's driver's license.
ISO ID #.................... The Mantle Project
That stopped her in her tracks, because the holographic seal glowing in the half-light and the name "ISO" brought back terrible images and memories. She blinked, snapped the wallet shut and shushed the other two before they loudly complained--just as a deep rumbling shook the tiny alleyway and what appeared to be a solid brick wall behind them slid to one side.
With a muttered curse, Skitter threw the two smaller sneak-theives to the side and they all cowered there, waiting for--who knows what---to make its appearance. Nikko stuffed the wallet back into the pocket of the duster and watched, blue eyes wide under the brim of the floppy hat she chose to wear.
The wait wasn't long, a group of five men--they guessed they were men, it was hard to tell--wearing ghastly green armor and half-helmets, all with the same lousy taste in barbers, lank brown hair falling in uniform rank to their shoulders, marched almost in step down the alleyway and out into the darkness of the night. These were followed, eventually, by a larger man in the most god-awful combination of red, gold and puce armor known to mankind. This one was heavily built, a thickness about him that hinted at sloth or middleage or both, and was speaking curtly into.. what had to be a communicator.. with a certain air of authority.
A communal silent groan went up from the three huddled children as the 'wall' closed behind him and he lounged in his approximation of dangerously against it. Skitter made a gesture for them to get out, he'd 'cover them' and Jinx made an attempt to crawl on his hands and knees toward the mouth of the alley and freedom. As he moved, he tapped a cellphone--part of Skitter's haul and it chirped merrily.
The big man in the awful colored armor hastily drew a sidearm of some unknown make and called out.
"Halt. Show yourself!"
The three froze, but it was Nikko--with her hands on the other two's shoulders to have them sit still, who rose slowly into the sudden glare of a tiny flashlight the man was now using in his free hand.
"Don't shoot me, please." Her pouty, sultry additude copied from the whores who abounded in the area. The duster was slowly dropped to reveal a rather mature figure for a teenager, barely clothed in a hip-riding, denim mini-skirt and a cropped lavender t-shirt with the word "Baby" glossed in dark blue glitter, stretched across her ample chest.
The light quavered, momentarily but the firearm didn't go off. So far. So good.
"Nikki didn't mean to do bad." Another pouty, sing-song comment as the floppy hat met the duster on the slimy alley floor, and an astonishing head of white curls came tumbling down around her face and shoulders. Each and every movement was copied from the bubble girls and korobi that she'd seen on a daily basis--with one extra talent that even her companions had no clue of. She knew how it *felt* to be sexy, she knew what the call-girls' johns wanted to *feel* like, and she worked on that knowledge, turning up the volume of her budding sex-appeal as she gnawed on her lower lip for effect. For Nikko, feelings--emotions were like colors, she experienced them as plainly as the normal person experienced light and sound. Right now, she was working on those of the officer in the garrish colors, exploring and exploiting baser urges--that women in the oldest profession have been using for millenia.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Scented bubbles and hot water covered her entire body and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She was still alive, the first and most important of all. She hadn't gotten out unscathed, but alive and well was good enough for her. Dark purple bruises glared angrily up at her from her pale arms and thighs, she scrubbed at them as if she hoped the sponge would peel them from her---along with the memory of what she'd just done to survive.
But, she had survived, and she'd gotten out, with not only her life, but with the coat she'd left in the alleyway and the insides of the oversized captain's voice-activated communicator--she'd left the shell sitting on the floor where it had fallen and slipped from the captain's quaters while he slept off what he truely believed was the best sex he'd ever had in his life (even though he'd actually been damagingly rough and premature).
Several streets down, at a tiny cathouse appropriately named "Neko's," she'd found refuge with one of the more kind-hearted madams, given a bath, food and "One Night Only" in a tiny cramped crawlspace supposedly a 'spare room.' Now as she finished her bath and huddled into the clean clothing from the lost-and-found of the brothel--a t-shirt and a pair of pants much too long, she shuffled through the wallet that was miraculously still in her coat pocket. In the flickering light she read over the ID again, a plan already mostly formed in her mind. It may not be common knowledge yet, but she knew ... those men in the green and the ISO were on opposite sides of some political conflict---and this could work out to her advantage. Because BOTH sides had robbed her of everything precious in her life, and .... maybe, just maybe.. she could make them ALL pay.
