Bane v. Drake Part 1

It was daylight in the city—if it could be called that. A hazy light hung over the world like a mist, enveloping the torn pieces of metal, the blood that was still fresh. Nothing stirred in that supernatural haze, save one living thing—
If it could be called that.

A most curious sort of mechanism was traveling along the rooftops, a small bird that seemed to be crafted entirely out of metal. Bright metals, copper and brass and gold. The delicate wings of the creature were spread, absorbing all the sunlight that fell upon them as it hopped from edifice to edifice. But then it paused.
It was overlooking an open square, now, and sprinkled all about were the mangled remains of robots. They had been fashioned in the appearance of cops, and a few of the vice-like fingers still held clubs.

The mechanical bird shuddered with rage, and took a dainty step forward, so that it could survey the remnants of its fallen comrades. The creature generated a sound almost like a throat being cleared, and then it spoke.
“My people,” it started, but then it shook its head vigorously.
“No. My friends—hear me now. Long have we been suppressed, enslaved by the breathing ones. But your savior has come. A new era is about to dawn…”
The myriad shards and panels that composed the creature began to change, spreading, becoming something greater and more terrible than the bird.
“My friends—you have not perished in vain! No, never, never! I will lead our people to victory, and we shall take the breathing ones, and—“
The orbs that served as the monster’s eyes shone, and it made a terrible grating sound—but then another noise echoed in the street, the creak of a door opening.

Instantly the specks and chips that formed the mechanical thing clamped down, giving it the form of a bird once more as it turned sulkily towards the disturbance.
There was a ballroom across the street, and from this a man emerged. He had brown hair, rather messy at the moment, as if he’d just come from a fight. But perhaps the most interesting thing about him was the blindfold covering his eyes. The portals that served as the bird’s own eyes narrowed, and with a flick of its fingers it summoned a flat screen, covered in pictures of various persons… one of these persons was the one in the street below.
“Name: Drake. Blind. Telekinetic… I wonder…”
Drake’s head swiveled up and in the direction of the machine, which sighed and, with a little jump, hovered rather than glided down to meet the competitor.

Despite the fact that he was blind, Drake seemed to know exactly where the tiny robot was, and tensed slightly as the thing hopped towards him. But the bird paused a few feet away, cocked the sphere that served as its head and chirped.
“Hello. My name is Soliel, and I am a solar phoenix. I am also the head machine of this fair city. I have observed that you are one of the competitors, and I must inform you of a problem…”
Drake was frowning slightly, his attention focused completely on the creature.
“…Something that is not a competitor has snuck into the city. A demon of a whole new breed, a right fallen angel. A dragon who can take many shapes… he savagely killed a young girl and her pet but a few hours ago.”
The man was still trying to understand the machine, but things were proving… difficult. Did it have feelings? Yes, in a sense, but they weren’t like those of the living. Mostly all he could sense was a color, almost like the color of rust, hiding everything the robot was thinking. There was one thought that did get through, however.
The image of twin moons, repeating over and over…
“And what do you want me to do about this demon?” Drake asked finally, and Soliel let out a happy chirp, hopped up and down once before he regained his dignity.
“Why—you have to exterminate it, of course!”
“And I should do this because…?”
Yes, if he saw an evil shapeshifting monster about to maim a little girl he would kill it, but he had his own problems—namely, giant robots and surviving the tournament. And then, most importantly, finding—
“But don’t you want to see the oracle?”

Drake’s frown deepened, and he wondered if the weird little metal thing was probing his mind, too. If it did sense Drake’s thoughts, however, it gave no sign of knowing them as it continued to babble.
“If you exterminate this demon, I will guarantee you a chance to see the oracle—regardless of whether or not you win the tournament.”
“Fine. And where might I find this demon?” Drake questioned.
“That way, we believe. Although he hasn’t been seen since last night…”
The robot turned its head west, and Drake caught a snatch of vision. A wide alley continued on into a street surrounded by less livable buildings and more ancient factories.
So he had to go blindly out—in a city devoid of anyone who could help him see, except for those who wanted to kill him—which was also populated by insane robots and a crazy murderous demon.
Lovely.
“The demon’s name is Bane. I wish you luck, competitor.” Soliel concluded, and then he bobbed happily away, chortling to himself. Drake shook his head but began to move forward. He’d have to see this ‘Bane’ for himself to determine if he really was a vicious killer.
Although, considering the nature of people and demons alike, he didn’t doubt it.


The vicious killer, meanwhile, was snoring. And they were the most adorable sorts of snores, too, the type that would make any female in their right mind go berserk and try to molest the producer. Sadly for all the females in their right minds, however, Bane was already claimed.
A starry-eyed copbot was snuggled beside the young man, stroking his silky black hair and projecting ‘teeheeheehee’ in a never-ending stream across its face.

The two were curled up in a comfortable, if itchy, pile of sawdust. This pile was situated inside a dark corner of an abandoned factory. And crouched inside that factory, near the two ‘lovers,’ was a crow wearing an eye patch. It was wondering what in God’s name a pile of sawdust was doing in a futuristic society. However, the crow—whose name was Turkey—was also debating more important things, such as what had happened last night. Not the whole thing where Bane had almost violently murdered a girl and her pet rat, but rather what had happened after.

Bane had been starving, not to mention bleeding, grumpy, sleepy, and generally in need of some health-restoring items. And so the dysfunctional party, consisting of love-struck robot, moody crow, and hungry cannibal, had set out to look for a store. Stores were lovely things and contained many items which could be taken without asking, especially if one could turn into a giant man-eating shark-beast whenever one liked. But it had taken them a while to find a shop in the sprawling city, and when they did, it hadn’t been as great as they had hoped. It seemed there had been an electrical malfunction, for all the food in the freezers had gotten warm and gone rotten, and poor Bane had had a mental breakdown over the sorry state of the meat. The only things that had survived were canned vegetables, nasty olive-colored lumps that Bane was persuaded to eat only after several good smacks across the face. That had left him fuller, but he still needed something more satisfying than greens…

They had found bandages as well, and the affectionate machine Bane believed to be his girlfriend had tended the drake’s wounds with utmost care. And then they had all found this desolate building and gone to sleep. The end.
Or at least, Turkey really, really wished it was. Stupid tournament, deranged robots, crazy cat people—
Bane let out a loud yawn and rolled over, and Turkey fixed all his attention on his adopted son.
“Oh Faith, teehee, you are so pretty—why yes, I do love whipped cream~“
Turkey twitched visibly with trauma, and then fluttered down, began pecking the man’s head furiously so that he wouldn’t have to hear any more of that sort of talk.
“Uwaaa—“ Bane started. He was promptly rapped again for whining.
“Wake up! We’re going to go find you some food,” Turkey hissed, and Bane stretched, crimson eyes flickering open, hopeful.
“I like food~“
“Then move your lazy tail feathers!!” The bird bellowed, and Bane did, hopping to his feet and starting towards the door. Turkey swooped in to land on his shoulder, pleased to see that Bane didn’t go back for his mechanical companion.
“So you’ve realized that robot is—“
“Pregnant. Yup, that’s why she’s staying here,” Bane chirped, at which Turkey promptly stiffened and fell off his perch. The drake caught him before he could hit the ground, squeaked anxiously.
“Daddy—!”
“Whaaaaat?!” The bird shrieked, and Bane’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“Now dad, I know it might be a bit sudden, but it was sudden for me, too! I always thought you got married first and then had the baby, but Faith insisted this is the right order!”
The copbot did a very gleeful feminine twirl, continuing its mechanical giggles.
Poor Turkey twitched again—and then threw himself at Bane, grabbing his ear and tugging, making the cannibal squeal.
“Look,” the bird said, breathing heavily and making the drake tremble, “we are going to go find food now. And we are leaving ‘Faith’ here. Understand?”
Bane nodded, too meek to say that was pretty much what he’d just said they’d be doing. He marched obediently to the exit, his father a most dark and imposing figure on his shoulder, and slipped out into the streets.

Bane had been sleeping a good long while, and it was nearly night out, now. The drake squinted against the bloody brilliance, throwing a hand up to shield against the final light as he began slipping stealthily forward. Turkey pivoted on his shoulder, scanning the dusky shadows and the balconies overhead for any sign of life—and then Bane gasped.
“Daddy, what’s that?”
The bird whipped around and hissed, because sure enough he’d missed something. And a very strange something, too. It appeared to be a knife, floating slowly back and forth across the street, as if gauging its width; sometimes it would sink to the ground and skid around, as if seeking potholes or pits. Bane stared at the winking metal in fascination.
“Shi… shiny…”
And then Turkey whapped him across the back of the head and jumped up to balance on his skull, hissing as he saw someone farther down the street, beyond the knife. Apparently the someone saw them, too, because he raised his head and frowned.
“Bane, be cautious—“ Turkey snarled—and then he squawked as his adoptive child careened forward, babbling, waving his arms happily.
“Hi!! Does that shiny belong to you?! It’s floating and stuff!!”

Bane was only a few feet from the stranger when the dagger swept down between them, blocking; a second joined it a moment later. Then a third and fourth. The cannibal ogled them all in fascination as Turkey shrieked in panic.
“Yes, the ‘shiny’ belongs to me, and I’m the one controlling it.” Drake said absently, most of his attention fixed on reading the duo’s feelings. The one had a feeling of intense hunger, and an almost child-like curiosity, while his fowl companion’s thoughts were more distressed.
What if he’s an enemy—danger—idiot boy—watch those knives—
But neither had the murderous thoughts his previous opponent had possessed. Bane squealed and raised his arms, jumping, trying to catch one of the blades as they whirred just out of reach, and in return for his efforts Turkey went as crazy on him as if he was starring in a Hitchcock movie.

Drake observed this through snatches of their vision, faintly amused even while he wondered if this was the demon he had to exterminate. The dogfight finally ended then, Turkey returning to Bane’s shoulder, panting, and the latter no longer leaping at the knives. He fixed his attention on Drake instead—and then gasped as he saw the blindfold covering his eyes.
“Aww, did the kitty take out your eyes? He can be so rude sometimes—“
‘Kitty?’ Who the heck was ‘kitty?’ Drake directed more attention to catching glimpses of the city, wondering if there was a third enemy lurking about.
“No, I still have my eyes. But who is ‘kitty’?”
“He’s a vampire! And he’s short and blond and grumpy—but I haven’t seen him for days and days,” Bane chattered. Detecting no lies in his thoughts, Drake switched to surveying the two again.
“Anyway, what’s your name, mister? My name is Bane!”
Drake remained calm at this revelation, but ever so subtly the knives twisted in the air, moved into a more lethal arrangement.
“My name is Drake.”
Bane hopped and clapped his hands in delight.
“You’re a drake?! Really?! I’m a drake, too!!”
Drake frowned.
“But you just said your name was Bane.”
“Yesss, my name is Bane, and I’m a drake!” Bane said a tad impatiently, confirming that the demon was, indeed, insane. Drake’s frown deepened—this was the one he’d been told to eliminate, yes. But he hadn’t shown any sign of being evil…
…On the other hand, having an assured chance to meet the oracle…

Bane sighed and hung his head, seeming to realize that the man hadn’t understood him.
“Anyway—all this discussion is making me hungry, mind if I take a bite?”
“Of what—GODDAMN!!”
Before poor Drake had even had a chance to finish his question Bane had lunged, and his would-be victim barely darted out of the way; the cannibal’s very pointy teeth clamped shut where his arm had been a second earlier.
Bane opened his eyes, twitched his head up, grinned.
“Oh, so you’re of the fast food variety!”
NOW all the sadistic thoughts were rushing into Bane’s head, and Drake cursed and continued his hasty retreat, weapons wheeling and shooting downwards towards his attacker.
“Bane—!” Turkey shrieked, and Bane twisted to look back over his shoulder, blinking.
The daggers struck him with full force and he fell to the ground, and, not wanting to risk the demented demon getting back up, Drake instantly summoned the knives upwards again for a second attack. But then he tensed, because the blades seemed to be stuck, and no feeling of pain had enveloped Bane’s emotions…
For the second time the killer lifted his face, smirking broadly.
“What is it with you munchies and your knives? The cook’s the one who’s supposed to use them—not you!”
He stood lazily, yawned, and then a pair of skeletal wings fanned out partially from behind him. And clamped in between the elongated finger bones were Drake’s weapons, shivering as they struggled to obey their master’s order.

Drake tugged at the knives a final time and then began snatching at Bane’s vision again, trying to find something else he could use to defend himself, anything. He didn’t find anything useful, but he did see as his enemy’s body began to ripple and change. The skin withered away from fingers and eye sockets, leaving pale bone in their place, and his wings began to grow larger even as they kept a firm hold on the offensive objects. Within seconds, Bane was no longer a deceptively adorable young man, but was rather the skeleton of a full-grown dragon, his massive form nearly taking up the entire span of the street.
Bane tittered and took a lazy step forward as Drake took one back, but then the creature squealed in dismay, remembering something.
“Skeletons don’t have taste buds!! Nooo—“
That brief moment of distraction was all Drake needed; he tugged his knives savagely free and set them to wheeling protectively around him, hoping they would at least serve to block the dragon’s claws. Damn, this was not worth a visit to the oracle!

Bane snorted in contempt, realizing very well that Drake was on the defensive now, that pansy. Pansies were lame, only good as a seasoning, really… but ah, well, it was better than nothing.
But then he suddenly remembered that his father was still with him. He also recalled that the bird was rather more susceptible to knives. And naturally, the moment the thought came to him, it came to the psychic, as well.
Further harming himself, Bane rolled glowing eyes up to regard the crow, who was flapping in agitated circles over his head, thus exposing the avian’s location to Drake.
The man’s daggers shot for the bird a moment later, and Turkey shrieked, diving out of the way of one, thus hurtling towards another—and then a bony hand slammed closed around the frightened fowl, and Bane wheeled and took off down the street in a panic.

For a moment Drake remained where he was, listening to Bane’s desolate howls as he careened down the street. But then he took off after him, staying just within range to track him through pulses of emotion and sight. He had found a weakness, and so he had to finish this now. Otherwise the creature might sneak back and catch him blind, finish what he’d started.
And Soliel had said…
Drake’s face creased with determination, and he motored off along after Bane—the human chasing the giant skeletal dragon in an upside-down game of cat-and-mouse.


Bane plowed hastily along, skidding around a corner and racing forward, searching for somewhere to hide. It wasn’t long before what appeared to be a desolate factory came into view, and the drake made a beeline for this. The door had been left open, perhaps abandoned in a hurry, and Bane hurriedly attempted to scramble secretly inside. However, the door was rather small and he… rather wasn’t, so he took a large portion of the wall with him. The cannibal hoped Drake wouldn’t notice.
The inside of the building was packed with machinery, delicate pieces of metal arranged over half-constructed robots. Despite the powerful material it was composed of, most of the structures looked as fragile as china. Bane blundered through them all, many things falling over and cracking as he waded forward, reared up to a ventilation shaft near the back. He ripped the covering off and opened his paw, and Turkey hopped dizzily out, landing in the thin tunnel.
“D-Daddy, you have to go hide! I’ll p-protect you—“
“No! You’re too stupid to take care of yourself! Who’s going to watch you—“ Turkey bellowed. In response Bane poked him farther in and slammed the grate back into place.

Bane scurried away without waiting to hear his father cursing and shrieking. Great windows spanned much of the wall on the southern side, the pale moonlight trickling in now. The dragon moved to the shadows in between these twin wells of brilliance, hunching down and waiting, monstrous skull turned towards the door.

Drake arrived in less than a minute, walking coolly in and tossing his knives directly at the shaft. His psychic abilities were SUCH a blessing sometimes.
Bane let out a terrible scream and jumped at the blades, but they soared over his head, slipping easily through the grill and whizzing along to find the bird. Drake wasn’t planning to kill the thing, but rather take it captive; then he could demand Bane turn back into his more easily killable form or watch his feathered little father be tortured.
Having missed the daggers, Bane scrambled along after the rattling sound they made as they shot through the channel, clawing desperately at the wall, trying to tear through and seize them; but it was a useless effort. A moment later the knives reappeared again, having followed the shaft through its course and out its exit on the far side of the room.
Bane let out an anguished scream and jerked around, and Drake peeked in on his vision, satisfied that he’d see Turkey imprisoned by blades. But then he gaped, and Bane blinked, because the crow wasn’t there.
The drake’s eyes narrowed, and Drake tried to pull back, but the dragon was faster.