Yes, But... What if it was Shadowrun (Part 5)
Earth-218, Seattle, 2050 AD
Neon bled through the grimy, rain-streaked windows of Chonky's. The place smelled of old fryer oil and regret hung heavy in the air.
Across from him, Rudy, once the superhero known as Char—broad, scarred, and with a lot more white in his hair than he liked to think about—sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup, a Big Chungus with fries sitting before him.
“I know you can't be poisoned but,” the elf said, ears twitching as a synthesizer music rattled the walls, “you actually eat this stuff?”
The man snorted. “Hey, it’s cheap and open at 2 a.m. Who am I to judge?"
The door slid open with a hiss.
Three punks walked in—neon mohawks, tattoos scrawled across their necks, piercings in places that probably violated health codes all over the state, one of them with a duct-taped shock-baton spinning lazily between his fingers. Raven squinted.
“Trouble,” the elf murmured.
The vigilante followed his gaze, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Yep.”
The tallest punk vaulted onto the counter, waving a pistol that had seen the inside of more than one pawnshop. “Alright! Everybody chill! This is a robbery! Any of you &#$%ing $^%#s move, and I'll execute every mother%#&$ing last one of ya!"
The elf was already halfway out of his seat, jacket whispering, hand going for steel.
A heavy hand clamped down on his wrist.
“Hey,” the ex-hero said quietly, not even looking at him yet. “I know you been gone a while, but no killing.”
“They are thieves,” the elf hissed.
Rudy turned, eyes calm. “In this world, the cops want them breathing. You kill ’em, I gotta deal with the paperwork. I hate paperwork more than getting shot at.”
The elf sighed. “Alright."
“Alive,” Rudy confirmed. “Lacerations? Blunt force trauma? Publicly embarrassing them? Fair game. Just—” he pointed with his straw “—no corpses.”
The punks noticed them then.
“Yo, grandpa,” one sneered, “sit down before—”
The vigilante stood, flames leaking from the corners of his eyes.
The lights flickered. The other patrons held their breath. The punks froze.
Raven released his grip on Nightwatcher and grabbed his tray instead. “Alright."
A half-smile pulled at the corner of Rudy's mouth. “That’s my boy.”
Six seconds later, the sounds of crashing trays, shattered glass, and one punk screaming as he got introduced to the concept of non-lethal force at superhuman velocity.
When it was over, Raven adjusted his jacket, watching the unconscious robbers twitch on the floor.
“…This world is strange,” he admitted.
Rudy took another sip of his drink. “We missed you too.”
Six seconds later, the sounds of crashing trays, shattered glass, and one punk screaming as he got introduced to the concept of non-lethal force at superhuman velocity.
When it was over, Raven adjusted his jacket, watching the unconscious robbers twitch on the floor.
“…This world is strange,” he admitted.
Rudy took another sip of his drink. “We missed you too.”
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