"... also, be sure to avoid physical activity for at least four days to at least a week! And be sure to adhere to the prescription!" The man with piercings on his face nodded back at the doctor as they both exchanged friendly waves to each other. Standing by the doorway, Jonas kept up an affable smile as the trio of people eventually took a right out of the alleyway, vanishing from sight. His smile quickly faded as did his posture, dropping back onto the decaying brick wall.

Sputtering a few tired curses, the Doc's arm plunged directly onto his face, massaging it as he let out a small sigh as he stared at the check written to him. "Looks like I'll be more than good for a couple of days," he mumbled, taking one last glance at the dank alleyway. Stereotypical hive of all scum, save for a few poor, tortured souls... riveting.

Leaving the pungent setting of the despondent row, Jonas went back into the apartment, being greeted by a toothless grin of a much older looking man in his seventies. He was short in stature and had beady eyes you would find on a cheap, hand sewn doll. The shirt was striped up and down with a white and blue design, his gut protruding from the shirt, almost exposing midriff.

"We-eh-hell!" Semwon up late," letting out a chuckle as he weakly gripped a clear bottle filled about half of the way, label reading Cachaça. Jonas just returned with a dead glare and an unamused frown as he tipped his head back and forth one time. Now staring at the floor, he slouched over as he proceeded forwards and up a few steps before he felt someone tugging on his coat.

Steadily rolling his head to the side, he came into contact with the nose of the bottle shoved right at his nose. He blinked for a few moments before staring at the smaller man who uttered a singular "here."

"Sure ya don't wanna finish that bud'?" He put his finger on the neck and pushed it back and forth, making it bob like a buoy. He shook his head and smiled. "Relax."

Jonas nodded his head and uttered a "thank you" to the man as he gently procured the nearly finished bottle. Ascending up the stairs, he stopped for a moment once on top of the platform and turned his head back. Nothing, save for a muted closure of a door. Bringing the bottle up to his face, he stared at the contents within before continuing his ascent.

"Maybe I should try an' make cocktails tomorrow."

---

Leaning back in a wooden chair, Jonas waved back and forth as he stared at a couple of documents in the dimly lit room. Suddenly tilting back a little too far, it appeared that the chair was about to capsize and the captain was going out with it...

... or not. Jonas swiftly launched himself up from the now descending seat, continuing to look at the documents as it landed with a half-hearted clunk. Pursing his lips, he let out a silent breath of air as he shook his head, frowning as he set them next to the bottle, the inside being about half-way to the bottom. Staring at the glassware by his desk, he took one last swig, eliminating the minuscule amounts of spirit left.

"Ah hell, I've been up for too long reminiscing about this all," he spoke to no one in particular as he gingerly placed the glass onto the table. Grasping the chair and spinning it back onto its four feet, he proceeded to grab said papers and set them into his satchel.

"The old man's nice, but I wonder if I could of gotten a better view if I took one of the other places..." Looking up at the ceiling, he chuckled, shaking his head and swatting away an imaginary fly. "Nice, but conspicuous..."

Stretching for a few seconds, he turned on the moldy tv in his room; couldn't be more thankful the prior renter of this place left without taking the rest of his stuff. May not be cozy, but some of the vanities were nice. Flipping between channels that were all in Brazilian language, he settled on a random one which he was certain a repeat of a show.

Throwing his coat haphazardly onto the chair, he heard the clamoring of knives making contact with each other as he lie on the bed.

Before Jonas could nod off, there was a rough banging on the door, which he stared at blankly. Rolling onto his side, the knocking became more furious. Groaning, he put his arms across his eyes. "Yeah yeah, hold on, hold on, give me a sec'." Rolling off onto the floor with a thunk, he took in a deep breath before unhurriedly getting to his feet. Cracking his neck, he snagged his coat and grabbed the bottle.

"If you're lookin' for a check-up, sorry, but I'm done for th' night." Shuffling to the floor, he slowly opened it up... only for it to be forced open by a bunch of hooligans eying the doctor, their gazes shifting throughout the room.

Backing up, the men entered the room with a certain swagger, brandishing their weapons of choice. One decided to toy with the decaying wall, cutting off a small piece with their machete. The other posed like they were gods gift to baseball, tapping the floor with their bat like a base before swinging at the wall... and stopping right before impact. The final one at the center was pointing his freshly bloodied pipe at Jonas face, giving him a cliche smirk that made his eyes roll. There was one factor that made them unified - their tattoos.

"Sorry 'Doc,' but we ain't here for a check-up, but we are searchin' for a cure and we are certain you have it."

Clenching the neck of his Cachaça bottle, one of the men grinned cockily at Jonas.

"Ya sure it's 'im? He don look like much; bet a little poke," the he closed one of his eyes and thrusted his baseball bat back and forth like a billiard, "an' he'll be out!"

"Oy, oy, we ain't suppos'd to damage tha' merchandise!"

Jonas glowered at the trio as he put one foot behind him. "Merchandise? I'm sorry, but you may have the wr-"

"Don't try an' weasel yer way out of this, we know yoor Joseph Langer!"

"Uh, dude," the man with the machete piped up. "It's Jonas Langer." Looking back at his comrade, the man with the pipe shrugged and looked back at the doctor who seemed unhinged and unbalanced like a wild animal.

"Ey', look, he's scared! Bet he's gonna try an' pull some shit, so letsgetumnownownow!" The man with the baseball bat swiftly rushed forward, their baseball bat flying to the side as Jonas quickly ducked underneath and retaliated with a Cachaça uppercut. Glass shattered around the room, along with splashes of the drink that drenched the victims body, but the pants of everyone else in the vicinity.

The man stumbled before falling straight on his back, not budging at all.

"Damn, what a waste o-"

The middle man let out a battle cry as his other conscious partner belched a swathe of jeers at Jonas, both rushing forward to get a hit. "Fuck it, knock th' fuckboy out an-"

Pivoting around the mans strike downwards, he quickly shoved the bottle into the back of his neck. There were screeches of pain as crimson glinted on the bottle. Jonas anticipated the machete slash and quickly parried with a drawn knife from his cuffs, much to the befuddlement of the man.

Jonas heard the man behind him roar and predicted how and where he might swing. Instead of fighting against the man, he eased up, causing him to "overpower" Jonas... and promptly get their head smashed in.

As the goon dropped the machete, Jonas made quick work of his surroundings and procured the falling blade. Before the final gang member could recover, Jonas made sure to pin his arm to the wall with a ki powered stab to his wrist. The man was in a state of shock, and tugged at the bloody hand... before having a leaky feeling... in his abdomen. Crumbling to the ground, Jonas let out a huff, making sure no parts of his coat were bloodied.

"... of a good spirit; was gonna make a cocktail out of it..." Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, he began digging into the pockets of the men he fought against and garnered his payment. Shoving the cash into his wallet, he looked about the two bodies that were most likely dead and the unconscious man.

"Jesus, how the hell am I gonna explain this?"

"Brotha', you won't hafta'."

Twirling around and pointing his knife at whoever just spoke, he grimaced as a new set of goons with similar tattoos and uniform appeared at his doorway. The man in the middle stuck up a hand and kept his cool.

"Now hold on, I know watcha' might be thinkin'... but unlike these fools whose asses you turnt' ta molasses, I'll give ya a chance t' come with us, no conflict at all." Jonas stared at his supposedly affable smile, continuing to stay defensive as he pushed his foot back once again.

"Look... we have your pasty ass out numba'd... look outside the escape ladda' brotha'."

Cautiously backing up towards the window, Jonas kept his eye on the five people occupying the doorway and yanked the covers open... only to see the route being blocked by two other goons, who just stared at him, stared at the men and women occupying his doorway before going back to chatting.

"Ah dang..." Jonas slowly closed the windows covers as their supposed leader kept jabbering on about how it was no use to escape. "I'm not going to get any sleep with these imbeciles around..."

"... and that is why ih'm givin' you the offa' of packin' your stuff up and comin' with us, quietly. So, what will it be brotha'? You-"

"Hopefully the tournament just goes on for a couple of hours, then I can get some shut eye." Jonas looked down at the ground, seemingly space out for a moment as he continued to hear the alpha wolf out.

"... an' we give ya enough time to grab all your stuff! Which will it be?"

Looking up to meet the eyes of the man with a shit eating grin. Letting out a defeated sigh, he threw his knife to the table. "Fine; give me a few minutes to pack up in private."

Nudging one of his friends, the middle man began bragging about how he knew diplomacy would win out before stationing three men outside of the door while he and the other disappeared down stairs. Slowly closing the door, one of them gave one last grunt to Jonas.

"We'll b'waitin'."

---

"How long until this prick gets outta this shithouse? This stuff is makin' me uneasy."

The woman shrugged, before staring at the smudged graffiti on the wall below them.

"I dunno, but they'll contact ya through the talkie... what, y'fraid of heights?" She smirked and began nudging her ally, who pushed the elbow aside. "Screw you," he chuckled back.

"How about l-"

Before she could finish, the walkie talkie bursted with static, a voice emanating from the device.

"Oy, you can stop guardin' the emergency ex't, the target is bein' escorted outta the building right now! Y'kin come down now." There was some remaining static before it completely cut out. The man gave a huff, before looking at the darkened room.

"Thank god... now let's get..." He was the first to scramble down the ladder quickly as his female compatriot stifled a giggle as she followed after the shifting man who was making strides to get down the unstable equipment. At the bottom, the man in white was absorbed into the crowd of people, taking looks around as he remained silent. There was chattering amongst the large crowd that was packed into the alleyway.

The horde piled onto the streets, their myriads of cars in full view. The whole slew of them prodded the doctor with insults and slurs, but he wouldn't even budge a centimeter. He just blindly went where they ordered him to go. After a few minutes, they came to a halt.

Not bothering to look around, the doctor stood completely still as the gang members the same man got on top of the car and pointed at him. "Now!"

In an instant, the men and women surrounding him went into a frenzy, bashing parts of his body and punching it, making sure he would be out like a candle. Even then, he didn't scream, shout, yelp, not even let out a whimper of a sound... the doctor just... took it... until.

"AH FUCK, WHAT WAS THAT FOR ASSHOLE!"

Infighting. Shouting. Confusion. The once unified whole began getting angry at each other and began chastising each other for hitting their gut, punching their face, and a whole slew of angry insults. It was almost impossible to keep a part of the crowd from getting riled up... and from the rooftop of another building, Jonas smiled at the beautiful noise.

"Hehehe, idiots." Clasping his hands together and stretching them upwards, Jonas managed to stifle a yawn before walking slowly to the other uneven rooftops. He began at a leisurely pace before going onto a full blown sprint, hopping, jumping, and climbing. It wasn't going to be long until they checked his room, so he did his best to put as much distance between him and the gang members.

"The O Massacre de soldados, eh," he mumbled to himself as he rolled due to a rough landing, "they seem a little... underwhelming." Jonas shook his head as he peeked behind him, barely seeing the tiny heads move in a formation back into the alleyway.

Utilizing the nearest fire escape, he swiftly descended the slew of steps, each sound making a creak with each passing second.

---

The lone doctor in a white coat rushed through the streets, still continuing to make sure to avoid his pursuers. He was frankly certain they weren't too amused by the note pinned to the wall by his former occupied room and couldn't help but be a bit amused. Jonas could only imagine how their resting bitch faces looked after they read that piece of paper.



As Jonas dashed through the streets, brushing by locals and foreigners alike, a few thoughts lingered in his mind... mainly where he would lay low for a bit until the tournament started. He was plenty sure they weren't going to be lusting for money no longer.

---

---

Pivoting around a corner, he brushed past a couple in gaudy clothing whose faces were redder than radishes. The male with his half-strewn clothing didn't seem to appreciate the man bumping into his partner, seeing it almost as a challenge.

Jonas registered the man behind him attempting to clasp onto the side of his coat and quickly yanked it away from the vicinity. He didn't need to be slowed down, especially by some random passerby whose breath smelt of some Cachaça. He went on to ignore the thud of the other as he continued scanning the area. Taking a look to the side, he noticed a familiar appearing car.

Dashing into the alley, he stayed to the shadows and hid behind a dumpster that would make any regular human retch. He took quick peeks behind the bin, his line of sight seldom obscured by a random civilian. The car was slowly cruising and didn't speed out of the area. Frowning a little, Jonas turned his head down the alleyway and swiftly weighed between the two, taking frequent glances between either or.

He soon shrugged it off and dashed down the sky high hall, utilizing his knives and string to climb over the wall. As soon as he was over the other side, he made a break for it.

Out of the passage, he almost surprised a few people, giving them a genial but rapid good evening before continuing to run... and skidding to a halt.

"Hey boys, tak'a look who it is!"

One of the four shouted before pointing directly at the doctor. Stepping back, Jonas was ready to bolt for it, if not for what one of them said.

"Quick, get th' rest on this! Then we kin' git this fuckboi!"

Jonas registered one of them pulling out a walkie-talkie. On instinct, he drew a knife and tossed it with impeccable precision and velocity, destroying not only the device, but impaling the now tear strung gang member's hand. The person glared intently at him before her companion produced a second talkie.

"Distract his pasty ass! I'll git the rest on the line."

Jonas quickly produced more knives, staring intently at their vital spots as he displayed some gritting teeth. Couldn't they of just given up or something?

---

Otsana inched her way down the crowded streets of Rio, trying to avoid the multitudes of late night clubbers and other nocturnal denizens. She had a safe house set up a few miles away, but at the rate she might as well walk. If someone was after her, she was a sitting duck unless she could find a quicker way. It did not help that her phone insisted that this was the fastest route. "Continue down the street for 5 miles."

Stopping to let pedestrians pass she noticed that several of the streets in this area simply were not on her maps. "Shut up, Siri!" She checked that her guns were secure in her side car, and turned down one of the more open side streets. She howled as she gunned it, the revving of her engine was enough to clear out the few pedestrians on the street.

Bobbing and weaving her way through the side streets, she enjoyed the feeling of finally cutting loose. That is until she turned the corner and nearly bowled over a bunch of gangsters running to cross the street.She could hear them shouting to each other. "'Ey, they said that the Nomad was over here!"

She skidded to a stop, nearly hitting one of them. One of them even had the gall to to shout at her for nearly running them over. Then the phone that she'd taken from David beeped. She instinctively took it out and gave it a once over.

Hey Boyz, David just got taken out by a Wolf Girl with Guns named Otsana. She's riding around the area on a motorcycle. Watch out.

---

Finishing off the woman with a brisk kick to the jaw, he scooped up the scraped up device as his eyes wildly began to survey the area; he was plenty certain one of the pedestrians nearby was contacting the police. Great, just the last thing he needed on his tail were a buncha cops and some gangsters who had the gall to show themselves as hot stuff.

Grunting, he ran down the streets, but before ducking into the entrance of a nearby shop the moment the talkie flared to life.

"We-ktch-el," the talkie crackled for a moment before coming into focus. "Look's like she wasn't drunk as those idiots claimed!" The voice guffawed for a moment before continuing on, Jonas staring intently at the people in the vicinity.

"We got two targhut's in the aree' - Jonas the Doctor and Otsana the Wolf Gal. We know where the doctor is, lets make sure to corral em' both! She's currently at..."

Jonas grimaced for a moment as he stood completely still, focusing himself until he "shed" his skin, making a doppelganger of his own. The look-alike blinked as Jonas stared intently at it before hissing some orders.

"Head thattaway, I'll go the other way; keep those O Massacre de soldados away from me and Otsana." The decoy didn't speak but the duo headed off on their own, Jonas taking a quick right across the street up north whilst the fake went the opposing direction.

"Alright, now where is this lady? Hopefully not howlin' to the moon or something..." Continuing to head north, he look intently at the supposed east. If she hadn't departed yet...

"Hey, it's her!"

With that echoing shriek, Jonas stepped it up as he swiftly approached the corner.

---

No sooner had Otasana put the phone back in her pocket then did the first shout ring out across the street. "Hey, it's her!"

Already a group of thugs surrounded her on all sides, boxing her in on her cycle. A baseball bat swung down at her, and she barely manged to catch it with one hand. Drawing her pistol, she shot him a few times in the gut. He dropped to the ground, moaning in pain while she kept the bat. She flipped the bat right side around and rested it on her shoulder. "Come at me, I've faced nuns tougher than you bastards." One of the gangsters darted forward to grab her gun case out of the sidecar. She swung the bat down on his hand with a crack. "Don't you dare touch my—" She yelped as she was grabbed from behind and thrown off her bike. Without missing a beat a burly gangster jumped on her, trying to pull her gun out of her hand.

They wrestled on the ground for a while, the others giving the standing around them, unsure of if they should step in. Otsana had her military training and her ki. Her opponent had sheer size and tenacity. "We've got a little tournament of our own going on, see how many Nomads we can get tonight. You're about to be Dan's third."

Otasana grinned. "Really? No fancy nickname?" She reeled back and headbutted him. Dan cried out in pain as his nose broke, hands instantly going to it. Otsana took the opportunity to roll him over and get on top of him. She pressed the barrel of her gun under his chin as she pulled out her shotgun. "Not 'Dan the Destroyer' or 'Dirty Dan' or literally anything else?" She sighed. "Man it would've sucked to die to Dan."

"Heh, I know whatcha mean." He had a sneer on his face as he eyed his comrades.

With her back exposed, some of the braver gangsters rushed forward, weapons primed to bash Otsana. Their weapons shot up into the air and to the sides... until the sounds of something flying midair pierced through, followed by yelps and gurgling noises pervaded the atmosphere around. The sounds of weapons clashing onto the ground were accompanied by slams. Not too far away from the group was a blonde man staring at the whole assortment of gangsters.

"The hell?!"

"... Jesus H. Christ, isn't there anyone amongst you all who knows how to let someone finish a conversation," he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he cocked his head to the side. There was an amused frown on his face as he constantly blinked, examining one gangster to another.

"Moreover, let me get some damn sleep?"

Otsana looked up from Dan just in time to see some of his henchmen take all of three steps towards them before falling to the ground in crumpled messes, knives sticking out of their bodies. She spotted the blond man in a lab coat through the gap in the crowd and gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks!"

"Ey', looks like it's our lucky day!"

Jonas couldn't help but keep his mouth agape, staring at them as if they were children enjoying a game of tag. Some of them approached him, others keeping an eye on the wolf girl, sporting an almost similar shit eating grin Dan had earlier before Jonas showed up. "I just injured some of you, possibly killed one of your members, and you still say it's your lucky day," he grumbled nonchalantly.

Seriously, these imbeciles were acting all the same - cocky, sluggish, and just plain abrasive. Jonas didn't even bat an eye as one lunged out with a metal pole.

"Your precious lil' daddeh putta HUGE ASS bounty on yaaa!"

With his trajectory all mapped out, Jonas did the unthinkable... and threw dust in the mans eyes, catching him completely off guard. While he was busy wiping the dust from his eyes, he slowly cracked his knuckles as one of the few fighters descended on him, swinging at the doctors head.

"That makes two," he sneered, ducking almost immediately ducking as a chair and brass knuckles flew into the sightless mans head instead. Jonas rolled backwards as they came to the revelation of what they did, the body crumpling downwards like a puppet.

Meanwhile Otsana looked down her own group of thugs keeping one gun pressed against their boss' head and the other pointed outward. They were all tensed up, ready to pounce at the first opening. One shouted as he ran forward, and got a shotgun blast to the stomach for his troubles. "Dan, It really looks like your dudes do not give the slightest fuck for your safety." She leaned in with a toothy smile. "Oh well, guess you have no use here."

"Wait no, I can call the—" Dan was silenced by a swift pistol whip.

Jonas recoiled back as the one with brass knuckle slugged him in his gut. Not too shabby for a lowly grunt like this. He winced a tinge as he studied the man who began to shield his brass knuckles buddy with a chair... heh, fools should always keep their eyes peeled...

Tossing down two knives that impaled the concrete, he saw the two tumble over each other in a daze. Jumping at the opportunity, he descended on the knocked down duo, giving the one on top a nice tasting of his fist, whilst the one on the bottom received the full blunt of his drop. Quickly rolling off the groaning gangsters, he watched as a few more combatants decided to rush forward at the doctor and wolfgirl.

Drawing more knives, he assessed the situation, noticing one of the few gangsters scurrying behind a vacant car. Either they were pussin' out, or something else...

Otsana got up, guns at the ready. Already the ring of gangsters around her had started to reconsider, flinching away as she turned to each in turn. Unfortunately for them, she didnt need to close the distance. With an explosion of light and sound, she fired wildly, cutting them down as they ran and scattered. A few fell to the ground, covered in burns, while others dealt with fresh bullet wounds.

"Just... ugh... lose... conscienceness already," he hissed to no one in particular except the now choking minion who was gasping for air, as well as grasping at the binds to his neck. Jonas continued tightening it, gritting his teeth as he stood his ground before kicking the mans legs underneath him. In one single action, he swung his leg on the unbalanced man, swiftly inching away as a satisfying crack reached the pavement.

Dusting himself off, Jonas quickly set to work looting the bodies, checking specifically the pockets of each of the goon he clobbered. As he stopped to pickpocket one of the unconscious victims, he looked up at the wolfgirl who seemed to be brandishing her guns at the now destroyed gangster. Rubbing one of his ears, he couldn't help but observe the mess they made... ugh, and her loudass guns made it like a mosh-pit at a rock concert.

"Hey, uh, it's Otsana, right," he quizzed, drawing cash from a gangster. "Not to be much of a stickler, but could you check out that one gangster who took cover behind the car?" As he said that, he procured a scraped up walkie talkie.

Her ears flicked as she looked back and gave Langer a wave. "Sure did Doc, they go after you too?" Without waiting for a reply, she stepped over a few bodies towards her motorcycle, holstering her guns with a flourish. "Thanks for the help back there. Let me deal with this guy." She pulled a cigar out of one of her many pouches and lit it. After taking a few puffs of it, she opened up her gun case, pulling out her pride and joy. A finely tuned machine, it easily rested on her shoulder as she pulled out a drum magazine. She motioned to Langer to keep quiet.

Raising her voice she raised the gun up to her ear. "What's that Migi, you smell a survivor? Behind that car?" Spotting the gangster peering over the hood of the car, she slowly walked over. "I know you could shoot through that like paper, but that wouldn't be nice to the owner." The gun made a loud clacking as she pulled the charging handle. The gangster dropped behind the car and whimpered. Otsana made a show of petting it's barrel as she sauntered over. "Come on, it's just one guy, not worth your time." She paused a few feet away from the car and sighed. "Alright, we'll do it your way."

Humming some tune as she danced around to the car, she put the gun's sling over her shoulder, letting her casually hold it at the ready by her hip. The gangster was curled up in terror, rocking back and forth as he muttered. Cold metal prodded his shoulder, and he looked up to get a face-full of gun-barrel. With a yelp he tried to get to his feet but a swift jab from the barrel knocked the wind out of him. He fell to the ground and looked up at the gun-slinging wolf girl. "Mercy!"

Otsana took a long drag of her cigar and blew the smoke out of her nose, enveloping herself in the cloud. "Nah." The gangster cried out as she shouldered her gun and cackled. A burst of gunfire echoed down the street, but after that ended, the gangster was still screaming in terror. Once he realized he wasnt dead, he looked around him at the holes on the edges of his clothing. There were several holes in his pants between his legs. "Shit, I missed." Otsana shouldered Migi again, and the gangster fainted from fear. She smiled and turned around at the now white-haired youth and back to her cycle. As she put her gun away, she turned to the doctor. "So Doc, you're right to assume I'm Otsana. I take it you were targeted because you were fighting in the tournament tomorrow?"

Jonas couldn't help but chuckle a little as he caught a glimpse of the now fainted gangster... though he still couldn't help but feel a little off about the way the white haired youth acted. A little too smart for these buffoons... His eyes traversed over to the wolfgirl who quizzed him on the reason for being pursued. He tilted his head to the side, smirking at the lady.

"Great deduction skills Watson," he slowly came up, holding a few of the bloodied contenders wallets in his hand. As he did this, he patted the money against the temple of his head, one arm on his hip. "Don't think a lot of people could figure that out." Stuffing the wallets into his bag, he retrieved the beat up walkie talkie. His eyes shifted furiously between the man with holes in his pants and the walkie talkie as he began to toy with it.

"Considerin' your guess, I'm under the assumption that you'll be participating tomorrow, yee-" The device sprung to life, static permeating the air around. "ess?" Jonas looked up at the lady, smiling as he fiddled around with the device, trying to see if a voice would pop up.

"Kccch, got zzchat?"

Ooh, well speak of the devil. Holding a finger to his lip, he glanced at Otsana as one of the O Massacre de soldados gangsters began barking orders.

"... ztttt, Damiáo gave uzzzz Jonas' and Otsana's location! Now kccht screwin' around an' git to that street!"

Jonas' eyes lit up as the feed cut out. Dropping the talkie into his satchel, he rushed over to the fainted gangster, swiftly searching the bastards body until he felt the remains of a ruined black device. Clutching it, he swiftly tossed it to the side as he got back up, the remains of that talkie falling to pieces with a satisfying clack as it crumpled onto the ground.

"So Biker Babe, where ya headed cause we need to leave right now," he sounded oppositely of what he said, lacking any sort of urgency in his voice as he jogged over and began procuring weapons as if they were a bunch of souvenirs. "I would prefer to get some rest over wasting my time with these imbeciles, I'm plenty certain you would too," he spoke, whistling as he retrieved one of his crimson-caked knives, quickly doing a sloppy job of cleaning it off before putting it back into his coat.

She looked over at the sound of the walkie talkie springing to life. "I got a safe house lined up just outside of town," she said as she put her gun back in the case. She slung the case over her back and motioned to her sidecar. "Why don't we talk on the road. Might be a bit tight on the legroom but the sooner we get away from here the better." Getting on the bike, the engine roared to life. Putting on her goggles she revved the engine. "Unless you like the idea of walking?"

Snatching up a pipe and bat, he looked at the wolfish lady as if she was an arbiter to heaven. "Nah, I prefer biking with you over walking," he quickly shot out as he rushed over to the sidecar and cautiously got into the vehicle. Looking over the side of his arm, he took one last glance at the area before the duo rode off towards their destination.

---

Otsana sped away from the scene of the fight, making a beeline for the freeway. "So, I figure that as long as we keep moving quickly and erratically, they can't ambush us. Once we get to the highway we'll be able to cut loose and be home free. So,you got a name, Doc?"

While he was looking at her earlier as she spoke, Jonas suddenly began stared downwards, organizing the items in his bag. His eyes drifted between the wolfgirl and the bag as he stashed a syringe on one side, gauze on the other. This didn't go on for more than a few mere seconds before he looked over at Otsana.

"I go by Jonas, or Doctor Langer if I ever have ya as a patient." There, he said it. He gave a small sigh, blinking as he tilted his head a little to the side, looking at the scarred lady. What was a good conversation starter? Tattoos, ears, or scars? Bah, he could only wish there was a three sided coin to assist in this decision...

"Say, Fenrir, where'd you come in from? France?"

She gave him a sideways glance as she turned down a wide street. "Non, I'm from the north of Quebec. Saint-Félicien. Good guess though. How about you?"

"Ah, so you're a Canadian gal then," he quickly responded, now keeping some semblance of eye contact with her. "Didn't expect that considering your choice of clothing... would expect you to bundle up or something." Reaching for his coat pocket, Jonas pulled out a knife and held it gingerly as he brought out a part of his gauze from his bag.

"I'll cut to the chase and avoid making any jokes about maple syrup for now," he grinned momentarily as he continued. "I'm from the suburbs of New York City; not too shabby of a place if ya weren't involved in any wannabe gangs." He stared fondly at the knife, wiping away the crusty blood that had accumulated on the blade.

She let out a chuckle. "A Parka? Here? Shit man, just thinking of that makes me sweat. You'd have to be real committed to the Inuit look to wear that in freaking Brazil. So Jonas, what makes a doctor like you want to fight in the tournament? Don't really strike me as the 'former army medic' type."

"Wow, I was more expecting you to ask me if I was a certified doctor," he smirked as he did his best to relax in the tight compartment. "Regardless, you are right about me not being in the army; that never really struck my fancy." Pausing, he turned and looked directly at the wolfgirl.

"I'm here for three things - money, fame, and finding some competent nomads to assist me in a certain endeavor."

As he said that, he peeked over, eying the firepower and scars decorating her body. "And judging by your scars, you've seen your fair share of conflicts." His eyes began tracing her half-naked body up and down, focusing entirely on her blemishes. "You're a fairly competent fighter; I take you were part of the army or a group like MAVERICK?"

"Started with the Canadian Army. Part of their Special Forces. I technically worked alongside MAVERICK a few times. Always coming after they did their thing, mainly for mop-up. They even approached me with a job, but by that time I was getting tired with army life. Didn't want to tied up for another term of service. She scratched her chin as they barely stopped at stop sign. "From what I've heard, It's a good thing I did. A couple years after they tried to recruit me, they got their HQ blown up. Wouldn't have wanted to been there when that happened. Though," she shrugged, "Lotta jobs opened their doors to me after that. You're not bad yourself though. I take it you one of those docs that uses their medical knowledge to hurt as well as they heal?"

"If you consider choking someone with gauze and jamming needles into people, then yes, I do utilize medical knowledge." Jonas couldn't help but look completely straight-laced as he spoke that line, looking at her as he reclined a little into his seat. "... but yeah, in all seriousness, I do utilize some medical knowledge." Bringing up his knife, he began to perform an incision on an imaginary body.

"I still need to take care when thrusting my knife into someone, too superficial and it'll be like a paper cut." Suddenly stabbing downwards and 'struggling' to pull the knife out, he eyed the woman. "Too deep and I won't be able to make a swift followup. It's dependent on what I'm targeting, whether it's a part of a specific cavity or a a part of the body that's proximal to the head."

Carefully moving his arm back, he gently put the weapon back into his coat as he continued. "Though, as much as I use my medical knowledge, I'll have credit my other experiences for keeping me afloat."

"Hang on, we're here." With a final hairpin turn, she turned down into a narrow alleyway. They pulled into an old mechanic's garage, and she hopped off the bike.

Almost immediately a middle aged woman in a set of overalls came out of the office. "Boa noite. What can I do for you?"

Otsana slowly reached into her boot and pulled out a folded up piece of paper and handed it to the mechanic. "I got reservations for the night. Already paid for and everything."

The mechanic took a drag from her cigarette and looked a Jonas. "He with you? An extra guest will cost extra."

"Well,I'm sure he's able to pay, isn't that right, Jonas?"

Grinning, Jonas produced a few wallets from his satchel and began emptying each case, earning a weird stare from the woman. "Do all American's have many wallets?"

Retrieving more wads of cash, he could only wonder why some of the gangsters carried around a crapton of cash. At least he didn't have to put it on account or provide anymore services for the night...

"... and I think this should be more than enough," he gave the woman in overalls an affable smile as she promptly snatched the cash and began counting each and everyone before eying Jonas and stashing the money away. "This will do."

_{"It's a good thing we decided to diagnose those guys, ey,"} he whispered to Otsana, sporting a minuscule grin before returning his attention to the woman. "Thank you for your hospitality."

_{"With a terminal case of stupidity, amirite?"}

The mechanic shrugged and rapped on a metal door. A burly man unlocked it, shotgun in his grip. He motioned for them to come inside and placed a key in her hand. "Second room on the right, second floor."

Otsana handed both the guard and the mechanic a few bills as she carried her bags inside. "Thanks! Come on Jonas, it's late enough as it is." She took the stairs and opened the door to a small room, with only one bed and a ratty sofa.

Jonas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he stared at this beat up place. This was less sanitary than the other place he paid to stay at! He was quick to voice his opinion on the matter as his eyes drifted between the bed and the rancid sof- oh god, he swore he just saw a cockroach.

He was trying to stay as sanitary as is and this shop they were taking refuge in was going to make it difficult.

"This place is a dump," he grumbled to Otsana, scrunching his nose as he walked into the room, keeping his satchel nearby as he continued scrutinizing the area. As he walked by the couch, he glared at it for a couple of seconds. "Don't get me wrong - I didn't expect a three star hotel or some crap, but," he paused before tapping his shoe against the sofa lightly.

He could only click his tongue in disappointment as four cockroaches immediately scurried out of the ragged old mite bag. Jonas couldn't help but stare at the wolfgirl with a frown on his face. "... so, is sharing the bed an option, or am I going to have to sleep on the floor with the possibility of a cockroach crawling into my ass," he quizzed in a deadpanning manner.

She gave him a pat on the shoulder and pushed by him, throwing her bag on the bed. "If it does, turn your head and cough." She flopped onto the bed and tossed him a pillow. "Might be a bit dirty but nobody's willing to hit these places unless they want to lose their services."

"I'm going to lose a lot more than service in a place like this... besides..." His grip tightened on the bag as he gritted his teeth. "I gotta keep most of this stuff sterilized to the best of my abilities... preventative measures, y'know..." Jonas glanced back at the ratty old sofa, poking it once again with his shoe... only for it to crumple into a heap as multiple cockroaches swarmed out of the ruined furniture, leaving only a covering and some pieces of wood.

"Oh good grief, that sofa was like a frickin' hornet's nest for these insects!" Jonas couldn't help but clench his fists and teeth even tighter as the little devils began either escaping the place or burrowing into the seams of the wall. Even parts of the bed weren't as safe as some crawled up the bed-frame.

"So, ready to play pest control or do you want to find a different room?"

Otsana watched the tide of roaches head for the bed and jumped off. "... Okay yeah Imma go bitch to see if we can get a cleaner room for the night." Grumbling, she stormed out the door.

---

As the night seemingly came to a close for the duo, Jonas' restless eyes fluttered open immediately. Rolling upwards, Jonas stared at myriads of things, ranging from his clothes carefully strung across one arm of the couch to the now slumbering Otsana. Cracking his neck and stretching, he shoved himself up from the seat, scratching his barren back as he stifled a yawn.

Despite how things miraculously worked out for the two, there was a certain amount of dread emanating from the man as he walked over to the woman's rented bedside and stared at her. Jonas blinked multiple times, tracing over parts of her body before taking a glance at some of her weapons. Pursing his lips, he shot out air from his nose as he swiftly walked over to his bag and retrieved the gauze within.

Returning to the slumbering Otsana, he gripped the item intensely as he began to partially unravel the fabric. Midway, he stopped and just stared at her, unable to move. He furrowed his eyebrows as minutes passed on by. Letting out a sigh, he began rolling up part of the gauze and heading back to his psuedobed. He made sure to carefully place the gauze back before lying once more on the sofa, glaring at its backside.

"She's just an asset Jonas; just... try to stay friendly with her."