CC R5 Part 2

When he came across this young man
Sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot
And the Devil jumped up on a hickory stump
And said, "Boy, let me tell you what"

I guess you didn't know it
But I'm a fiddle player too
And if you care to take a dare
I'll just make a bet with you"

"Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy
But give the Devil his due
I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul
'Cos I think I'm better than you"

The boy said, "My name's Johnny
And it might be a sin
But I'll take your' bet, you're gonna regret
Cause I'm the best there's ever been"

-The Devil Went Down to Georgia
by Charlie Daniels Band

         The ground swallowed both Speakeasy and Jet's bodies as they fell. In surprise Jet had let go of Speakeasy as they fell into the darkness below. They then both hit something very solid and started rolling down. Speakeasy rolled a bit before slowing to a stop, but Jet wasn't as lucky. He rolled back upwards enough for his back to slam into the solid ground below him.

         Jet gasped loudly as all the air left his lungs. He coughed loudly trying to breathe normally again, but his lungs felt like they were having freak spasms. His head and body both felt heavy as he laid there on his back trying to breathe.

         His vision was blurry as dust swirled in the beam of light from..... the tent? Jet's single eye looked around to see he was in the center of the circus ring, lying on his back with one of the trainers playing his fault off as part of the act. Looking back in front of him, out of the haze came a large gray scruffy dog, with serious yellow eyes.

        'William...! Something's wrong William....I can't breathe...! Help me...!' Was he speaking? Jet didn't think he talking, but he heard his voice, nonetheless, through his fits of coughing and gasping.

"...Get up lad...! ...You've got to get up, the show's still going....!" William's demanding voice commanded. Jet managed to roll himself onto his side, pausing to cough heavily again through the dust.
"...I said get up!..." Slowly Jet pushed himself onto his wobbly legs panting heavily as his ribs throbbed uncontrollably.

"Good good. Nice and easy. Now you've got to smile." Jet blinked and looked towards the gray figure in his blurry vision.

"W-what...?" Jet asked aloud in a hoarse whisper.

        "It's part of the show lad, you always smile during a performance, no matter what." Following his guardian's command Jet managed a smile, weak at first but growing stronger. He saw William smiling down at him with pride, kind yellow brown eyes looking back into a single tired orange fiery eye.

        "There you go lad...Don't worry...I'll have your back...." Jet smiled a little wider, but something in the back of his mind was screaming in alarm at him. He didn't notice it until he saw William starting to crouch down a little.
"William...?" Jet squinted his eyes to look at William closer through the blurriness. Before Jet had a chance to react Speakeasy leaped from where William had been, the dust and his memory revealing their hidden trap.

        Jet let out a yelp of surprise as Speakeasy pinned him down onto the ground below them. Panic began to fill Jet as Speakeasy's angry jaws snapped near his neck.

        "W-wait!" He pleaded trying to calm his angered friend. Jet shoved his front paws upwards catching the lower portion of Speakeasy's lower jaw. She growled loudly trying to press her jaws towards him as Jet struggled to keep them up.

        'Dammit Jet think of something!' he looked around frantically for anything he could use but found nothing but a circular tunnel. A tunnel?

        "Hey! hey! Look I know you want to win and all but can you stop with the biting and think for a second? If we don't figure a way out of here then we both lose!" Speakeasy stopped for a second considering his words though a few strings of black drool heading towards his face. Jet pulled his own head downwards as much as he could trying to avoid the burning drops. He glanced upwards as he felt the weight of Speakeasy's head raise up and start looking around with narrowed yellow eyes. Jet stayed still hoping Speakeasy would make up her mind soon. His single eye glanced downwards as he noticed Speaks' paws.

        'She doesn't have any dew claws? That could help explain why she can't maneuver well...'

        "Rotten all...fine!" Pulling him out of his thoughts Speakeasy's paws moved until she had fully un-pinned him. She gave Jet a distrustful glare before flicking her long tain.

        "Find us a way out then, if you're so smart circus boy." Jet gave a big smile as his orange eye flickered with enthusiasm.

         A few minutes later, Jet had managed to get back onto his feet, but sat down when the world had started to spin again. He'd have to wait until his head cleared to move again. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long.

        "Well glad to see nothing's broken, I suppose I can thank landing on you for that." Jet said, teasing Speakeasy playfully. Speakeasy, on the other hand, seemed anything but amused. "Anyway...Probably just bruise like hell later but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Now let's see...where are we...?"

        Looking around their newest prison Jet noticed the walls couldn't be natural. It was perfect circular tunnel with a stream of water flowing down the center of floor. The walls were constructed of...concrete?

        "Looks like an old sewer pipe or something. Probably goes all over the underground part of the city."

        "Lovely...so how do we get out?" Jet's single eye examined what he could make out from the little afternoon light shining from the hole in the ceiling above. The pipe was too big for even Speakeasy to climb up. There was always a possibility of going through the tunnels, but both directions were pitch black labyrinths of possible dead ends. Wandering around a pitch black tunnel lost forever until dying a slow painful death of starvation didn't seem like an ideal way to go.

         "Well unless you know how to navigate tunnels we're pretty much stuck here for the time being. The best option would be to go up..." Jet concluded.

         "Hey!" A voice called from above. Jet and Speakeasy both looked up to see a golden furred dog, with dark brown red eyes, and a faint scar over his left eye.

         "Goldy again...?" Speakeasy mumbled.
"You two alright?" He asked looking between the two with...concern in his eyes? Odd since most of the helpers seem to care less about the competitors.

         "Why yes, in fact we figured we'd have ourselves a picnic why we're down here. Care to join us?" Jet smirked out sarcastically.
        
         " ...Right...Anyway, can you two get out?"
        
         "I'm not seeing a way out, unless you can find something to aid us climbing out. I'm betting it's a maze down here, so navigating tunnels isn't exactly an option." The golden helper looked around, out of Jet's line of view, and then looked back towards the trapped competitors.

          "There's a small tree trunk over here that, with some help, we could probably use to haul you two out."

          "Go back and get some more helpers to help you. Me and Speaks will continue our little fight once we're out. We'll wait here for you." Goldy nodded in agreement.
          
          "Right." He then left the view of the two trapped competitors trotting back towards the gym to get help.

          "That's interesting..." Jet commented as he continued to stare up at where Goldy had been.

          "What?" Speakeasy asked, raising a curious brow at Jet.

          "That 'Goldy' just happened to be here when we fell. Seems Beyra's keeping her eyes on one of us."

          'And I'm really hoping it's not me...'

          "Or maybe she's watching both of us since we are in the semi finals and all."

          "You talk a lot...." She mumbled with a bored expression.

          Jet and Speakeasy both looked at each other then sat down on opposite ends of the sewer pipe. Though Jet was glad he had managed to find a way to take a break, and allow his ribs time to stop throbbing, the awkward silence that filtered in almost made him wish they were still fighting.

          Finding the blurriness in his head begin to clear, the gears in Jet's head began turning once again.

          'I wonder if I can climb on Speakeasy's back and then escape myself...but if I leave now I might not get another chance to get the information I want. Then again...does Speaks even have any information? Though, at this point any information could possibly be useful...'

          "Soooo.....wanna fuck?" Jet blinked in the sudden question that had disrupted him from his thoughts then burst out laughing.

          "Come right out and say it why don't you." Speakeasy chuckled a little.

          "I'm stressed and need to clear my head, so since we're going to be here for a little while, we mine as well do something to keep each other entertained. Besides, it looks like you could use a stress reliever too." Jet flicked his tail and laughed again but not as happily as before.

          "Nah. The only thing that would cause me stress that bad is if someone I knew died in some horrible tragic death that I might feel guilty over." Jet paused for a second, almost hearing the screams echo in the sewer, but everything was silent. "But if anything like that were to happen I'd just keep the memory out of my head. Hell of a lot easier and less distracting that way yah know?"

          'Less nightmares as well...' he added silently in his mind.

          "No point in dwelling on the past." Speaks chirped happily.

          "Heh, no arguing there."

          Despite all odds of their grim positions, the two began laughing. Once they had calmed down a little Jet looked at his friend happily.

          "You know, I don't really think we're doing this whole tournament thing right Speaks. Suppose to be ripping each other apart and here we are talking like old pals." Speakeasy just smiled and leaned closer to Jet, with suggestive eyes.

          "I don't see the problem, but I can think of something that would make it more fun. You did say you wanted it to be more fun." Jet met her suggestive look with one of his own, not about to be out charmed by anyone.

          "Heh tempting Speaks, but I'm not sure how that would work being as you're so tall and I'm umm...not." Speakeasy didn't make any further advances and settled back down on her side of the pipe.

          "Still worth a try." She said with a shrug.

          "So you never answered my question before." Jet asked quickly changing the topic. "Why are you fighting so bad?"

          "Mood killer much..." she mumbled looking away from Jet.

          "Just wondering. I kinda got this tradition of asking my opponents in each round, we've been friends since after round one anyway." Jet paused, noticing Speakeasy's expression changing from her natural smile back into the unhappy frown she had before. "Is it..cause you're sick or something. I mean i'd kinda expect it with that black...whatever coming out of you." There was a string of silence as Speaks stared blankly towards the ground on her side. For a second Jet thought she wouldn't answer, but eventually she spoke again.

          "Did you know that if you lose they won't let you have sex anymore?" Jet's curious orange eye blinked in confusion.

          "Well yeah. They said so in the beginning. You get a broken tail to mark that you lost." Speakeasy then looked back at him.

          "I like sex."

          "Well don't we all." he stated, " I've had my fair share of ladies from when I was part of a circus. You wanna have kids really bad or something?"

          "Fuck no!" No words could describe the level of disgust that had appeared on her face. "Rotten idea of having pups..." Jet couldn't help himself from breaking out into another fit of laughter.

          "So you're fighting for breeding rights when you don't want to breed. Man your funny Speaks. Although..." Pausing as he thought about a previous conversation, "You know....you don't have to stay here for that?" Both yellow eyes looked at Jet with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

          "What are you talking about, circus boy?"

          "Well, I got word that there's a human town not too far from here. Most likely they have a vet that can 'fix' you so you can't have pups anymore. That's what happened to a lot of human dogs. After that, just come back here." Speakeasy was suddenly in front of him again with shock filling every feature of her face.

          "You're joking!" she exclaimed. Jet blinked in surprise at her sudden outburst, but managed to compose himself again.

          "No. I've seen them do it all the time. Lucky for me, I got to keep mine due to working in the circus." Speakeasy shot to her paws in a leap of utter joy, barley not hitting her head on the lower part of the cylinder ceiling.

          "And all this time I thought I had to starve myself. Had I known it was that easy I would have gone ages ago!" She turned to Jet looking happier than he had ever seen her. "In that case, I forfeit!" she declared. Jet gaped in surprise.

          "Seriously?" Could it really be that simple for once? This far into the game Jet would have never guessed that any of the semi finalists would have so willingly given up.

          "Well yeah! I've been trying to quit this rot of a tournament since the first round. It wasn't until last round I even figured out what we were fighting for." Jet laughed again.

          "How'd you miss something like that? They told us back before round one."

          "Bosso never told me. Not quite sure as to why though...."

          "Bosso? Who's he?"

          "He's leader of the joint i'm from."

          "And what joint is that?"

          "The Blind Pig"

          Jet's single eye widened as time around him stopped. The Blind Pig gang that was leading the revolution against Beyra, the gang that was taking dead bodies of other competitors, and the gang that Speakeasy had been part of all along! This was just too good.

          'Naturally this is the part where you take the book you were 'keeping to' and throw it out the window. Especially when such a wonderful opportunity has presented itself.' Jet thought to himself a new smile appearing on his face as the gears in his head turned into overdrive.

           "J-jet? Jet you alright?" Jet looked up expecting to see Goldy back with help. Instead he spotted a white figure, much smaller with long brown ears.

           "Stanny boy!" Speakeasy looked up and tilted her head at the sight of the rabbit. Jet smiled big, wagging his tail at the sight of his friend.

           "It's just Stan, Jet..." Stan corrected, with an annoyed sigh.

           "Right... How'd you find me?"

           "Why are you talking to a rabbit?" Speakeasy mumbled, with confusion in her yellow eyes.

           "I went to check on you at the gym only to watch you bolt off with...that..behind you." Stan explained, glancing over at Speakeasy, before returning his gaze to Jet. "What the hell are you doing down there?!"

           "We fell. Anyway Stan I need you to jump down here."

           "WHAT?!"

           "Don't worry I'll catch you." Jet smiled big, showing his teeth with a large pleading puppy eye. Despite Jet's attempted charms, Stan drew away from the hole in the ceiling shaking his head.

           "N-no way!"

           "Come on Stan!" Jet pressed, "I need you down here buddy. It's important. You can trust me." Stan looked back into the hole that led down into the sewer pipe

           "You're not the problem." Jet followed Stan's gaze over to Speakeasy, who was just sitting in place with a bored expression. He looked back up to Stan with a large enthusiastic smile.

            "Don't worry, she won't eat you." Speakeasy raised her brows as if to say 'no promises', but Jet ignored it, hoping Stan didn't see it.

           "Yeah that's convincing...." Alright time for a different approach.

           "Come on Stan. Time's a wastin! Beyra's dogs are on there way anyway. If you don't jump you become a meal."

           Now Jet had Stan's attention. The already nervous rabbit, looked around letting out a loud gulp. He looked back down at Jet, a smile full of confidence, and at the other much larger dirty dog. Taking out a deep breath and praying for Jet to catch him, he leaped into the hole.

           Stan felt weightless before a set of strong jaws caught him in mid air. He let out a gasp of panic, not exactly enjoying the feeling of being in someone's mouth. Jet seemed to understand, and quickly put him down, near Jet's front paws in case Speakeasy got any ideas.

           Jet smiled big again, wagging his tail as he leaned down to Stan's eye level.

           "There see."

           "Why did you make me come down here?!" Stan demanded.

           "Simple. Rabbits know how to navigate tunnels right?"

           "Um...yeah."

           "Good! Then you can help me find a way out of here." Stan twitched his whiskers a bit before looking down both ends of the tunnels.

           "Well I know above ground, that direction leads to the river." Stan observed pointing to the left tunnel direction, before turning to the right. " I suppose you're gonna wanna head that direction instead." Speakeasy flopped on the ground, looking more bored than before.

           'Why did they have to talk so much...?' she wondered.

           "Is that where all these tunnels lead? The river I mean."

           "I know some do, others are just filled with nothing but water, but they're all over town. Some are small enough to make good hidey holes."

           "Weren't we just gonna wait here for Goldy to come back with help? Or you want some privacy for the two of us?"

           "Tempting Speaks, very tempting" Jet smiled, beginning to pad down the sewer pipe with Stan in front of him, "but if you come with us I'll give you directions to the human town." Speakeasy quickly scrambled to her paws after them.

           "Coming!"

           The trio set forth into the pitch darkness of the sewer tunnels. Jet walked following the sounds of thumping hops from Stan ahead of him. Speakeasy walked a little behind his side, using Jet as a guide through the darkness. Stan explained how rabbits could navigate through the dark tunnels of burrows by using whiskers, but since this was a bit different, they would have to use their nose to smell out fresh air. Every now and again they would find a crack of dim light from the ceiling above, but nothing was large enough for them to climb out of. Despite it all though, Jet was happy to have a break from the fighting. The pain in his ribs began to slowly fade as they walked through the maze of darkness.

          After a while Jet was sure they had traveled far enough from ear shot, even with the echos, he looked towards Speakeasy. Now would be his best chance to uncover any information he could get out of Speaks. Who knows when he might get another chance like this again.

          "Hey Speakeasy, do you know what the Blind Pig is doing?"

          "Killing other dogs?"

          "Interesting to know, but I meant about ending the tournament. I've heard that dogs are going to the Blind Pig about ending the tournament forever."
          
          "I haven't heard about anything." Confusion began to filter into Jet's mind. Did Speakeasy really know nothing of the rumors? Did she know absolutely nothing about what was really going on? She didn't seem like the kind of dog that would wear a mask to hide truth.

          "So wait a minute." Jet stopped walking and looking at Speakeasy and tilting his head. "If you're part of the Blind Pig, and you didn't know what the real reason for the tournament was till last round, how did you end up in this tournament anyway?"
         
         "Bosso told me to." she replied. If anything her eyes looked just as confused as Jet's was.

         "Hmmm...I see..." They started walking again before Jet looked towards Speakeasy again. "Can you take me to the Blind Pig?"

         "What for?" she questioned.

         "I want to talk to the leader of the Blind Pig. Bosso was it? That's why I led us here." he revealed, "We aren't aloud to speak to pack mates and with Goldy coming with Beyra supporters we needed to give them the slip." Jet had thought about going when they had been rescued from the hole, but that route had too many variables with not enough promising outcomes to match. Stan hopped a few paces in front of Jet.

         "Could have just said that in the first place...." the rabbit grumbled.

         "Oh believe me Stan, I would have, but one can't be too careful with all the ears and eyes around in Pripyat. Besides, I'd rather have you nearby where I know you're not in someone's stomach." Stan didn't seem happy about it, but at least he could agree to the last part.

         "Still don't get why you're talkin to a rabbit. Lot dogs would show you a good time for him at the Blind Pig." she explained.

         "I'll be sure to make a note of that. Been awhile since I've gotten a chance to 'do it'." Stan gave Jet's shin a strong kick, making him yelp in surprise.

         "It was a joke!"

         Jet continued to question Speakeasy on what he could, but she seemed to know next to nothing. Anything that seemed a bit interesting she wouldn't say. Mostly things about the food that the Blind Pig seemed to continuously have, despite the famine.

         Finally, a light was spotted ahead. The three quickened their pace to a trot and found an exit. The ceiling of the pipe had caved in creating a climbable way out for even Speakeasy. All three of them smiled as the dim afternoon light filtered into the tunnel.

         "HA! We did it!" Jet exclaimed happily.

         "You should count yourselves lucky you found a decent sized escape route at all." Stan replied.

         "Guess the clovers are working." Jet added with a chuckle before turning to address his next problem. Helping Speakeasy climb the rocky path way to freedom.

         Jet walked slowly behind Speakeasy showing her where to place her paws on the loose rubble. There were several times he had to catch her before she fell, almost falling down himself in the process. Stan hopped near Jet, still not trusting Speakeasy in the slightest, but stayed away enough from the two dogs that if they fell he wouldn't be crushed. Slowly but surely the trio made their way up the tricky path and escaped victorious from the dark tunnels below.

         Speakeasy pulled herself out with one last push from Jet, before moving far enough from the hole to take a breather. Jet popped out next, holding Stan gently in his jaws. He put Stan down on the ground first before hauling himself out of the hole. Shooting a quick glance at Speakeasy, as she continued to pause and regain her strength, Jet looked at Stan.

         "Alright Stan thanks for your help." Before he walked over to Speakeasy, he leaned down and whispered, "Stay close but out of sight. If it gets too dangerous don't follow." Stan gave a nod before hopping off quickly to find some cover. Jet smiled brightly, as he trotted over to Speakeasy wagging his tail.

         "Alright, can you lead me to the Blind Pig now?"

         "Sure thing." She replied, actually looking forward to seeing her old friends, and going home.

----------

This was the deepest Jet had ever been into the city, and the sights weren't exactly 'kid friendly'. Jet walked beside Speakeasy, as his single eye scanned over his surroundings. The streets were littered with dead bodies. Sometimes it was just blood and tufts of fur of where I dog might have been once. No matter where in the city Speakeasy led him, the sights of blood and gore followed. Some dogs looked like they had been ripped open, eyes still open in horror, other dogs smelled of illness as they laid motionless in gutters and allies, and then there were some who didn't have any unusual scent or marks. Perhaps they had frozen or starved to death, but honestly who could really say, when nothing but the scent of blood clogged the air.

Speakeasy, despite the grim atmosphere, wore a bright smile as she trotted through the blood covered streets. Jet could only assume that she was either really stupid, or was use to this sort of thing. Not to say he wasn't. Watching animals get ripped apart by other animals, or humans thrown from a moving train, wasn't exactly a pleasant sight, and all because you weren't useful anymore. That's how showbiz, no...maybe the world, worked.

        The circus seemed to match up with Pripyat more than Jet had originally thought, only lacking the loud music and bright colors, if you didn't count the blood. Everything had changed and yet nothing had. He was still just as trapped as ever in an endless circle of lies and trickery. Go figure.

        As they pressed on, Jet's orange eye glanced over to an alleyway where a single pup was pressing it's paws desperately against some other dog's body. It was crying heavily with despair in it's eyes.

        "Please daddy! Get up! Please! We'll find food! You promised!" Jet watched as the pup's eyes filled with more tears as she tried to awaken the clearly dead dog.

        "W-william get up!" The gray fur matted with blood laid motionless on the alley floor.

        "You ok?"

        "Come on! We need to get you back to the train! T-the humans will help you!" Shallow breathing echoed in the air, as broken eyes stared back at him.

        "Circus boy?"

        "Come on! Please! I need you!" The familiar scents that filled his nightmares mixed with the blood. It had been them. Why!? Why did it have to be them!? After believing he had escaped, they had found his savior from darkness and broken him.

        "Circus boy?" Jet blinked shaking his head and looked to see Speakeasy looking at him with confused eyes. Jet hadn't noticed he had stopped walking and had been staring at the hysterical pup. "You alright?" Jet quickly smiled.

        "Yeah, sorry. I must have just hit my head harder than I thought." He quickly trotted after Speakeasy, who continued to lead him towards the Blind Pig's home.

        'Damnnit Jet! Keep your memories under control!' he yelled in his head, scolding himself for losing control over them again.

        What happened if memories kept getting triggered by the city? Would he zone out so long that he was vulnerable? No, far too much was at risk for him to slip up like that, over things he couldn't change, but...what if the memories of last night began rebelling as well? If he lost complete control of his own mind, what would happen then?!

        It was as if he was being punished for every happy memory, serving as just a cruel reminder that he would always be alone in the end. It was such an annoyance. Jet had to keep echoing in his mind that every emotion, and every memory was just a distraction that could cost him the show. He had to stay focused, or lose every advantage he had spent the tournament gaining. There was no way he'd let himself go that far, even if it killed him.

        Eventually the scent of blood began to fade, well sort of. It mixed with the scents of living dogs hidden around allies or buildings long abandoned. Jet spotted a couple of figures hiding in the shadows, but some were padding around making conversation with others. Jet even spotted the pretty bipolar border collie he had met when he first arrived here. She had bright red eyes and was talking with some other dogs he had seen around the tournament grounds. All of them now had tails bent at incorrect angles.

        'Such a large audience...' Jet smiled deeply as his single eye examined the increasing number of dogs, 'It's practically an army of desperation...' Jet couldn't help but give a chuckle of glee. This might be easier than he had originally thought.

        Speakeasy walked inside a large cold building, smelling like death itself. He padded into the icy building behind Speakeasy, pausing a bit to observe what he could about the place to see if he could get some insight on just what kind of gang this was. Aside from the death scent there was a linger scent of sex in the air as well. Plenty of dogs were getting 'excited' around here. Blood stains, some faded some fresh, were scattering the place. Jet's smile only increased.

        'This just gets better and better.' Jet followed Speakeasy towards a snow white figure. Though the figure was speaking to another dog, at the sight of Speakeasy he dismissed the other dog and padded to Speakeasy.

        "Ah you're back with another friend." he replied with a smooth voice.

        "Yeah he wanted to visit, but he's more of a catch then the last one I brought, Bosso. Name's Jet." Bosso's ice blue eyes locked onto Jet in an instant. He smiled, but Jet could tell that Bosso was observing him closely.

        'He's that kind of dog.....'

----------

        "Almost had it Jet but you need to remember to smile during the whole routine."

The one year old Jet balanced carefully on a large ball, while balancing a smaller ball one on his nose. He had been working on this new routine with the trainers, but as always William was making sure Jet's skills were sharp as ever.

"Ugh why?" he frowned, "What's the point of it anyway?"

"We are performers Jet, and the whole world is nothing more than a show, not just the circus." William explained, sitting down, "Each person is like a character in the show, each with their own role to play. If you understand this then you can learn how to control the show using characters. Since we are performers, we DO understand this and use a smile to hide our real intentions and emotions from the world. So, no matter how much pain you're in, how scared you are on the inside, or how broken you feel, ALWAYS smile. Never let your real emotions show unless you know you're alone, or with someone you trust of course. This way you can keep yourself safer from your enemies."

         "The whole world's a show huh...?" Jet thought about William's words before looking back down at William. "...think you could ever trick the whole world?"

         "Perhaps Jet. After all, the circus is known for tricking people, and our meals are directly linked to that. Now, try the routine again and remember to smile."

----------

"Jet" Jet blinked for a second and looked back at Bosso, before smiling brightly.

'Don't worry William, I haven't forgotten that lesson....' Jet thought as he smirked at the useful memory.

"Well if you go to the far end of our establishment you'll find-"

"Actually I'm not here for any broads this time around. I came here to drop Speakeasy off since she decided to forfeit, and to discuss something with you."

"Oh?" Bosso said, almost surprised.

        "Yes, is there perhaps a place we could speak in private."

        "Quite. Back here if you please."

        Bosso led Jet to a room in the back. It had a few counters and a single window letting in the faint light from the now dark purple clouds above. Bosso leapt up onto the counter, glancing out the window at the dimming orange light on the horizon, before turning and looking back at Jet.

        "So what business do you wish to discuss?" Bosso questioned, his face like a mask behind a smile and dangerous blue eyes. Jet padded into the room before standing in front of Bosso.

        "I've been hearing your group is involved in some....interesting work." Jet glanced up at Bosso, with his own smile to match the dog's before him.

        "There seem to be several rumors going around."

        "Indeed. Dead bodies being taken by Blind Pig members, and something about a revolution." He paused to see if there was any break in Bosso's mask, but, like him, he was use to wearing one. It wouldn't break so easily.

        "I've come to make a deal." Jet finally decreed. Bosso raised his brows in interest and surprise.

        "And what sort of offer could you give to someone like me?"


        "Well I'm beginning to believe your goals and mine are rather similar."

        "Depends on what you think my goals are."

        "I have my theories. Somewhere along the lines of creating chaos in order to...what's the term? 'Take down two birds with one stone'. By creating a revolution you'd have a surplus of dead bodies and get rid of Beyra. Since you're planning on ending this tournament, I can only guess that's why you sent Speakeasy, so she'd get off your back while you planned this. Though I'm curious about why you'd want dead bodies. Giving the meat to your rather large amount of....followers? Though I've already figured out that food and loyalty are pretty well connected here. But, cutting the long story short, I believe that we both wish for a change in this city." Bosso seemed to chuckle in amusement.

        'Good.' Jet thought.

        "So then, amuse me, Jet, say that was my plan, what could you offer to it?" Jet's smile grew wider as his single orange eye sparked with flames.

        "Glad you asked...."

----------

        The white male known as Bosso padded casually towards a rather scruffy schnauzer. Padding to the side of the blood covered dog, his blue eyes burned down into him.

        "There's a rat in room back there if you don't mind getting rid of it." The schnauzer let out a huff of annoyance before nodding. Jet watched, smirking, from the shadows of the doorway near the back room.

        'Sorry Bosso...you can't cheat me out of this so easily.' The shadow of Jet quickly vanished back into the backroom.

        When the scruffy old schnauzer entered he spotted the young brown and black dog flashing him a taunting showmen's smile as he leaped out of the window beside the counters. He leaped onto the counter only to see the strange 'rat' bolting down the street and laughing like a madman all the way.

        "Tell Bosso if he wants me he really should just come get me himself." Jet called back with a smirk before disappearing around a corner.

        The bloody schnauzer was about to run after the tricky mutt, but Bosso leaped up on the counter beside him.

        "Bloodybeard, there is a rather tricky rat in the city. Too smart for his own good."

        ".....Want me to get him?" Bloodybeard asked with a deep growl, staring at the direction the young mutt had gone.

        "No, save your energy, I have a better idea."

        'He probably planned that escape earlier. How many other plans does he have I wonder...' Before Bloodybeard could ask what his plan was, Bosso turned around to pad back into the main room.

         "Oh Speakeasy....!" Bosso almost sang as padded off.

---------------------------------------------------

Jet ran down the streets, his mind racing in a mix of excitement and madness.

        'This day just get's more and more exciting. Well now I've just most likely aggravated a gang boss who knows I know too much, not to mention he has eyes and ears everywhere, and plenty of dogs under his command. I've just dug my own grave." Jet couldn't help but laugh at it all. "And here I thought this round was going to be boring.'

        Jet continued running down the street giggling and chuckling all the way. He looked up at the cloud covered sky, still darkening, but holding onto the dim light of the sun that was quickly fading away.

        'Oh 'Destiny' are you trying once again to kill me? You should know by now that you can't out trick me. I'll continue to cheat death till i'm old and grey.'

        In Jet's mind he never believed in destiny or fate, but he knew many did. In his eye destiny was just a 'grand' force that had it out for him since his birth. He didn't know why but it continued to try and kill him with every turn, but one way or another Jet had managed to weasel his way out of every death situation he had. To Jet, it was just another game.

        As Jet ran down the street, thinking of the earlier conversation with Bosso, he spotted a familiar white and brown fluffy creature hidden in the brambles near a building.

        "Jet! Over here!" Stan called. Jet quickly ran over to Stan and bent down until his belly was just about touching the ground.

        "Jump on, we can't stay in the same place for very long." He felt Stan climb on and winced a bit, "And watch the back wound."

        Once he was sure Stan was on, Jet continued to run down the street searching for a decent hiding spot. Stan, however, was growing impatient with his lack of information.

        "How'd it go?" he asked.

        "How do you think it went?!" Stan blinked in surprise at the outburst as he held onto Jet's neck fur.

        "Well did you plan any of this out?" Jet chuckled a little.

        "Pretty sure I'm just making this up as I go."

        "How the heck have you made it this far?" Jet glanced back at him with an amused expression. Honestly it was as if he was having the best day of his life.

        "Hey, you try balancing staying alive, keeping others alive, and planning things out. At least I figured I'd be making a deal with the devil when I went in there, and when making questionable deals it's always good to have a back up plan."

        "So what is the back up plan?" Jet let out another laugh.

        "What part of 'I'm just making this up as I go' did you not get?" Stan rolled his eyes. How on earth had Jet defeated anyone? "Look is there anywhere I can stop to think?" Stan looked around the moving city before setting his eyes on a familiar building. He had used it as a hiding spot before, and it was full of small tight areas that would be good for Jet.

        "There." Stan confirmed, pointing towards the ruin building.

        The door of the building was mostly covered with rubble, but, to Stan's surprise, Jet just picked up speed before leaping over the blockage. He landed within the interior of the half collapsed building, before turning his head to see Stan clinging tightly to his fur.

        "A little warning next time would be nice!" Jet just laughed again, bending down so that Stan could get off.

        "Sorry, couldn't resist." Jet replied with a playful smile as Stan hopped off. "Now come on, we need to keep moving. I've no doubt just pissed off yet another dog, and if I don't think of something quickly I'm going to lose everything I've spent building up this whole tournament." Stan gave his ruffled fur a few grooming licks before following the strange mutt.

        "So how many dogs in this city want to kill you now?"

        "You honestly expect me to keep track? But I could tell that 'Bosso' character was up to something, most likely bad, the second I saw him." Stan tilted his head in confusion.

        "How? Dare I ask...." Jet giggled a little as he climbed over parts of fallen walls.

        "He smiled all the time." he explained, "Anyone who smiles all the time is never trustworthy. They're always up to something. Using their smile as a mask."

        "Jet you smile all the time." Jet turned his head to face Stan, giving another bright smile.

        "And you've seen first hand the tricks I tend to pull when doing so." He turned his head back and continued into the building. "It's all part of the performance so to speak."

"I don't get it Jet, why did you want to go see the Blind Pig anyway? You already had victory didn't you?"

"Because victory isn't enough. Not anymore. The Blind Pig might have disrupted what I want to happen later so I had no choice but to go and investigate."

"Does this have anything to do with this 'plan' of yours?" Jet giggled again.

"More or less." he confirmed.

"Well can't you tell me what your plan is now? We're on the same side aren't we?" Stan's impatiences rang clear in his voice. He wanted desperately to know what Jet had planned to save this city, and...if it was worth Caesar's death. Jet however wasn't about to give up any information so easily.

"That depends, I still have my own questions about you before I go spilling any of my plans." Stan stopped dead in his tracks, his face growing serious and defensive.

"Like what?" he pressed.

"Well let's see..." Jet turned around till he was in Stan's face. "Why was Caesar fighting so hard for you?" Jet asked with a curious and slightly dark eye.

"What do you mean?" Jet flicked his tail, looking down at Stan.

"When I was telling Caesar to run away, he looked at YOU, and then said no." Jet pressed Stan stepping forward, causing the rabbit to fall backwards onto his back. "Meaning the whole reason he was in this tournament was to fight for you." Stan pressed himself up with his front paws and began scooting backwards, but Jet pressed on "However, I have yet to learn why. Why he was fighting for a rabbit. So tell me and I'll share my pla-" Jet's single eye happened to glance downwards just a hair for him to notice...something was missing on Stan.

"...You're a girl?!" Stan swiftly kicked Jet hard in the nose, forcing him backwards with a surprised yelp. He quickly covered his nose with his paw, rubbing it gently, as Stan got back onto his...er...her feet. Jet looked away, blushing a bit in embarrassment.

"Um..sorry about that. That was rather...un-gentlemen like of me." Stan sighed loudly, and rather annoyed before looking Jet straight in the eye with determined brown eyes.

"Yes Jet i'm a girl." She let out a softer sigh before looking back up at Jet. "Caesar didn't know and just called me Stan... Now..I know I have my secrets but so do you. I have a right to keep mine, but if you want my help you need to tell me what your whole plan is." Jet shook his head and turned around to continue moving.

"Sorry Stan. I just promised to keep you alive, not have you jump on my suicide boat." Stan's face began to harden in frustration and pain. "Nothing's free in this world anyway. Now can we keep goin-"

"Kits alright!" Jet stopped dead. "...I wanted...revenge..for my kits..." Jet slowly turned around until he was facing Stan. She had been a mother...and Jet hadn't even thought of that possibility. He had been too busy trying to think and had been blinded from the obvious. Stan was sitting on her back haunches with her head low, eyes close to tears though she refused to cry.

"I had kits...I loved them so much and when I was out getting food I came back to find they had all been killed....When I heard about this tournament I thought I could use Caesar to lower the population, but all I managed to do was bring a good friend into trouble..." Guilt sank into Jet's stomach as he let out a soft sigh.

"I'm sorry Stan. I..I didn't know." he paused trying to find the correct words, "Look Stan...About th- That's it...!" Stan blinked and slowly looked up at Jet who looked like he had just been hit with a large stone of inspiration.

"What?" Jet snapped out of his trance and instantly leaned down and hugged Stan with a massive smile on his face. Stan squeaked in surprise.

"That's it don't you see?! Oh you brilliant little rabbit." He continued to hug her with his single eye shining with glee. "You clever clever little rabbit you!"

"Jet what are you going on about?!"

        "I've angered a massive gang boss, am greatly outnumbered, still have a round to 'win' against a dog much larger than me, I smell horrible, and i'm a master performer! Isn't it obvious?!" Stan blinked, her face covered in complete confusion.

        "Um... no... not exactly." Jet gently let the rabbit go, before getting to his paws. Looking down at her he smiled with a dark, mischievous orange eye.

        "You've given me the perfect idea."

        "What is it?" Jet chuckled.

"Don't worry about it, for now just sit tight here. Once I've finished off some 'business' I'll come back and get you."

"B-but Jet! What if you need back up or something?" Jet tilted his head as she continued. "Or....what...what if something goes wrong...?" Jet looked at the grief stricken rabbit before him. He knew who she was thinking of, and, if it wasn't for his strict no thinking of the past rule right now, he would be too. Luckly no memory pressed forward this time.

Slowly crouching down back to her eye level he smiled gently with a soft eye.

"Hey don't worry. Something will go wrong, it always does. But don't worry, I'm really good at improv!" He then gave the biggest smile he could. Stan, though not completely sure this dog was sane, was oddly comforted by his unusual amount of confidence.

        "Are you...sure you're alright? I mean after last night I fig-"

        "Don't Stan." Jet interrupted "I don't like thinking about the past. Don't bring him up, not right now. I'll be fine, honest."

        "You mean you haven't thought about last night? Jet..suppressing stuff like that isn't a good thing."

        "And getting distracted by things I can't change isn't good either." He restorted.

        "Maybe if you let out whatever's bugging you at once you'd be better off." Stan suggested. Jet sighed.

        "Maybe." Jet smiled, once again shoving his rebellious thoughts to the back of his mind.


Jet leaned forward and whispered his plan into Stan's ear before standing up, giving a polite nod, and bolted off.

Stan stood in the building with wide horrified eyes.