|Similarity and Causality
Author: CadenGallic PM
Across the sea's from the once proud UAA, another organisation of assassins has risen from the United Kingdom. This new assosciation is just as crooked as their inspirers, as assassins climb through the ranks. This is the story of Jordan Argo, a man trapped in the strings of the association, being lead and tricked at every turn as he cuts down the ranks.Rated: Fiction T - English - Parody/Sci-Fi - Chapters: 26 - Words: 46,315 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 11-15-12 - Published: 01-24-11 - id: 6683994
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
No More Heroes: Similarity and Causality
Prologue: Zero to hero
A loser. That was how he was described. That was how Jordan Argo lived his life. He was a 21 year old who lived alone in an apartment at the end of the suburbs in. He ordered pizza for his meals, watched porn tapes, and went round the gym once a week. And it was only today that he started caring. It was his 21st birthday and he didn't have enough money for anything. His part time job paid enough for his pizza and videos but not much else. And today was also, the day his life would change. Forever.
His alarm clock blared at him, urging him to wake up. Drowsily, he reached over and smacked it, shutting it up. He rolled belly up and sat up in his bed, covers on the floor. He gave a little sigh and forced himself to his feet. He surveyed his room. It was a real box. The bed took up most of the room's floor space, while more was taken up by the wardrobe and a chest of drawers with a mirror. Rubbish and clothes were strewn over the floor and it stank like a skip.
"Another day in casa de crap..." he thought to himself, changing into some crumpled clothes on the floor. He looked at his calendar and his memory sparked with the date. The 19th of September. He gave another sigh and thought about what to do. After some debating in his brain, he went over to his room's door and left, locking it behind him.
Jordan had only been to a bar once. He'd been goaded by a friend there and he hadn't set foot in one since. He'd never thought highly of bars... mainly due to the lowlifes that went there. But today...today he had a lapse in his sober brain...and entered the "Tipped Bottleneck" as it said in non laminated neon. He sat at the bar side and said to the bartender, a man in his fifties
"Cuttin' to the 'art of it there eh?" replied the man in a ruddy accent.
"Just get it" he replied bitterly. The barkeep nodded and turned on the beer tap, filling the glass mug. He placed it on the table and slid it to his customer. Jordan peered down into the golden brown liquid. He'd only had a beer once...and as he took a sip, a familiar buzz filled his body. He shuddered a little and drank some more, taking in his surroundings. The bar was rather dingy, lit by some weak overhead lights. There were three other people. Two men, arm wrestling over the last pint they could afford and a cloaked figure, presumably female from the bulge in her shirt. He eyed her for a while, wondering their size...
The loud noise broke him from his fantasies. A man had entered the room. He was quite tall, had a face carved from stone and a square jaw. In his hand was what looked like...
"Oh shit, a gun!" yelled Jordan and he hit the floor. The man snorted.
"Now, where the hell are you bitch?" shouted the man around the room. The cloaked woman rose to her feet earning a hate filled look from the man. He brought his gun up and pointed it at her.
"Now, get ready to die!" he shouted and clicked his gun, but before he even fired, the gun disintegrated in his hand, the metal pieces fell to the ground. "What the he-"came the man's voice but he was cut short and his last words died in his throat. He crumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The woman replaced her special gun back in the folds of her cloak and brought her hood down revealing her face. Jordan looked up and gave a visual "Whoa" as her saw her. Her face was beautiful and she had smoking hot red hair. She sighed and sat back down.
"I'm getting too old for this crap..." she lamented and then noticed the guy ogling her. She smirked at him. "You can get up now" she joked. Jordan went red and was up faster than a gunshot. She smiled at him and asked him to come over. Jordan went over and sat across from her. "So...ya got a name tag doggy?" she joked.
"Um yeah...Jordan." he answered. "And you?" She flicked some hair out of her face.
"Vespia. Vespia Tarot." She replied, looking over at the bar tender, trying to shuffle the corpse out of the bar. "That's the third one this week...god I'm getting sick of this..."
"Say...what was that all about?" inquired Jordan. Vespia gave him a strange look.
"I'm an assassin...for the UKAA. I'm ranked 31 and there's always someone trying to take your place..." she explained. Jordan looked confused.
"Ranked...assassins? UKAA?" he asked curiously. Vespia sensed an opportunity.
"The United Kingdom's assassin association. Say...I don't suppose you could do me a massive favour. I'd sure be grateful" she said sweetly, leaning forward a little, giving Jordan a fairly good view of what he'd been staring at earlier. Jordan gave a discrete glance at them.
"Um...w-w-what is it?" he stuttered.
"Could you...maybe...take my place in the ranks? I'd reaaaally appreciate it" she almost pleaded in a seductive voice. Jordan hesitated. This girl was clearly strong and super hot. Maybe she might even go out with him if he agreed...but then again...becoming an assassin would be hard. Having to kill people tougher than him...was it worth that?
"...sure, I can do that" he smiled as his sense of reason abandoned him. Vespia beamed.
"You're the best Jordan. I'll call up the UKAA offices and tell them." She passed him a card over the table. "Here is their number...and mine" she concluded with a wink. She then got to her feet and left the Tipped Bottleneck via the main door. Jordan blinked a few times.
"Shit...what just happened?"