Quirky Row Chapter 39: Holiday Melancholy (Patreon)

Chapter 39: Holiday Melancholy

(Sunday, December 19th, 2123)

“Phew, what a week,” Playa groaned as he sunk into a bar stool, all but slumping over as he let out a sigh of relief to be off of his feet.

“Evening, Mr. Playa,” an older man in his fifties with salt and pepper hair and an eyepatch said in greeting while idly washing some mugs. “It’s good to see you again. What can I get you?”

“Whiskey sour,” Playa requested, putting some money down on the bar top. “And do you have any of that edamame stuff?”

“Of course, coming right up,” the bartender said, walking off to fetch the requested items, leaving the gang boss to sit back and relax for a bit.

The last couple of days had practically been a blur for Playa as the Saints had scrambled to complete the takeover of the former Sons of Samedi territory. There’d been some holdouts, especially in Shivington, and he had been very tempted to just burn the damn neighborhood to the ground in order to deal with the problem, but he’d resisted the urge and simply sent in Johnny and some of the more blood-thirsty Saints. It accomplished the same thing, in the end, and with only slightly less property damage.

But beyond some diehard druggies, there was one other problem that had been almost impossible to answer.

‘How the hell did the General and Mr. Sunshine get extra Quirks?’ Playa wondered to himself, tapping a finger against the counter.

Unlike with Mr. Sunshine, there’d been a lot of civilians on the streets and in the mall when the General had run amok, and many had had cellphones that’d recorded parts of the fight. And without a doubt, people had noticed that the General’s Quirk was more than it seemed.

Some people argued that he’d just been sandbagging the whole time. And that was true to an extent. Everyone knew he could remove pain, but the truth was the General could take away a person’s five senses, but he had to touch you to do so. Yet here he was showing off the ability to remove senses from a distance?

Again, it was possible he’d never shown it off for a reason, but if he’d had the ability to do so, why hadn’t he taken any of Playa’s senses from a distance during the kidnapping attempt? Suddenly going blind would have made it a lot easier for the gang.

The only answer he and the rest could think of was that somehow, the General had obtained a new Quirk, one that let him project and use his sense stealing Quirk from a distance.

And Playa’s assumptions had been proven to be correct when some Saints had discovered Ray’s corpse in a dumpster near his apartment complex on Thursday. Now, they couldn’t be sure that Ray’s Quirk had been stolen from him, as he’d been executed Samedi style and thus couldn’t answer their questions about what had happened to him, but Playa was very suspicious about the circumstances.

How, though? Could the General do it? Playa didn’t think so. Somebody else had done it. And then, there was Mr. Sunshine’s mentions of a ‘baron.’ According to Shaundi, Baron Samedi was the name of a mythological figure in Voodoo culture, a loa, or type of spirit. He supposedly controlled death and healing.

‘I always assumed the General had named his gang after this Baron Samedi, but was there something else behind the name? Or perhaps, someone?’ Playa mused.

Perhaps the most damning evidence of all was that many of the comments on Quirky or other internet sites that mentioned this oddity regarding the General’s Quirk all got taken down my moderators shortly afterwards. Entire threads in Quirk discussion forums had been locked and deleted. It was worrisome.

‘Somebody is working behind the scenes. And I don’t like what little I’m able to see,’ Playa thought to himself with a grimace.

Thankfully, the bartender quickly returned with a bowl of edamame and a glass of Whiskey Sour, placing both in front of the incognito crime boss and causing him to stop thinking so hard about the mysteries regarding the Quirk situation.

“Thanks, Donald,” Playa said, accepting the glass and taking a sip.

He decided to stop worrying about work for the moment. He’d come here to relax, after all. And so, Playa leaned back a bit and began to pop the little pea-like snack food into his mouth in between sips of whiskey while also casually observing his surroundings.

For tonight, Playa was not at Tee’N’Ay for drinks, but was at a place known simply as Donald’s, named for the bartender and owner. It technically had no name and was a hole in the wall establishment that you really needed to be a Stilwater local to know about, but it had some very good drinks, and was a great place to relax without worrying about fights breaking out. Even back during the days of open gang warfare in the city nobody messed with Donald or his bar. Much like Mr. Bubbles’ dry cleaner, it provided a service that was too good to dare interfere with.

Don’t get him wrong, Playa loved Tee’N’Ay. Best strippers and nachos in Stilwater! But sometimes he wanted a quiet place that served expensive drinks to drown his sorrows in. And Donald’s was just the place for that.

As he looked around, he spotted somebody at the far end of the bar, sighing deeply into his cups. He was dressed like a stereotypical Japanese businessman, complete with tie and briefcase. Deciding to make a new friend after thinking it over a bit, Playa got up and sat down next to the person.

“Hey, what’s got you down?” Playa asked, nudging his new drinking buddy.

“Ah, just… holiday blues, I suppose,” the Japanese man sighed, knocking back another shot. “I was supposed to return home for Christmas. Hell, I was supposed to be taking a break and going home to see my family months ago, but boss just had to take a job here right after we finished up another one. Ugh. The money is good, but I’d really like to see my wife and son.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Playa said sympathetically. “Got any pictures of them?”

“A couple,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. He then showed Playa a picture of a short and plump green haired woman standing next to a smaller, green haired boy who was grinning wide and wearing an All Might hoodie.

“Damn, cute kid, and lovely wife,” Playa praised, making the other man grin.

“I know, right? Inko is the best wife ever. She’s so kind and understanding when my job takes me overseas all the time. And Izuku is so smart,” he sighed happily.

“Your son has your unruly hair. Kinda looks like broccoli,” Playa noted.

“HA! Yeah, he does!” the Japanese salaryman laughed. “I should get him a shirt like that, that says ‘broccoli’ on it then has an arrow pointing up. He likes dumb joke shirts like that!”

“Heh, now that does sound funny,” Playa chuckled. “Gonna grab him any hero merch while you’re at it and in the States? I see he’s a big fan of All Might.”

“Yeah, I definitely need to get him an extra big Christmas gift this year to make up for missing it,” the man said, before offering his hand. “Where are my manners. Names Ryu Midoriya, at your service.”

“Phil Playa, at yours,” Playa replied, shaking his hand. “And if you need a super-special gift for the kid as an apology for not making it for Christmas this year, well, I might just have the thing.”

“Really?” Ryu asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I got some old vintage All Might stuff from back when he first appeared on the scene. Some of it’s worth a couple grand nowadays,” Playa mused, thinking about some of the items he had hidden in a storage locker. Not in Stilwater, of course. That was just asking for trouble. No, he had a secret spot near LA that he rented. Originally, it’d been to store things important to him, like family pictures and heirlooms. Now, it was a bug-out shelter in case he needed to vamoose from Stilwater in a hurry.

“You’d do that for me?” Ryu asked, surprised.

“Sure. It’s just a bunch of collectables. Honestly, some of it should go to a youngster who’ll appreciate it.” Playa then rubbed his chin. “Think he’d like a first edition All Might action figure? Still in the box.”

“I- yes, he would,” Ryu nodded. “How much do you want for it?”

“A hundred bucks?” Playa threw out.

“Deal!” Ryu agreed instantly. “Oh, Izuku will love it!”

“Great! Gimme your deets, I’ll call you when I dig it out of storage.”

“Wonderful!” Ryu said, toasting Playa. “Here’s to friends and family, then!”

“To friends and family!” Playa said, clinking his glass against Ryu’s. The two then spent the night drinking away their sorrows.

111 &&&&& 111

(Friday, December 24th, 2123)

Pony sat on the couch, humming to herself as she waited for her mother to get home. Peggy Layton, or as she was more commonly known, Cow Lady, was busy being a heroine.

She’d been busy for a while, now. Sure, she was one of Texas’ top heroes and her Quirk let her cover a lot of distance quickly, which meant she was often on the move all over the state, but ever since Uncle Steven – or as he’d been known by the public, the hero Stampede – had died, Cow Lady been home even less than usual, running around Texas and punching criminals in the face as if it would bring her brother back.

Pony scowled to herself as her thoughts drifted to Stilwater. That place had taken her uncle, and it had threatened to take her mother away as well. She hadn’t even known it was a real city until Stampede was transferred there three years ago. And then when she had learned about it, Pony had always assumed the internet was making up half the stuff about it. Only to learn that the memes and crime statistics were, in fact, woefully underselling the sheer chaos?

Only the discovery that the men responsible for the death of her uncle were themselves currently dead as well kept her urge to go there herself and beat up everyone wearing a green skull from surfacing.

‘No, think positive thoughts! Heroic thoughts!’ Pony thought to herself, shaking her head. Next year, she’d be moving to Japan to live with her father, and while there, she was going to apply to get into UA, the largest and most famous hero school in the world!

It was also one of the few high schools in the world that actually taught teens how to be a hero full time, and not just as an extracurricular activity or elective class. In the U.S., heroism courses were taught at the college level, to avoid accusations of child soldiers.

Which meant she couldn’t exactly go around dishing out vigilante justice, no matter how much she wanted to, if she wanted a clean record for entry into UA.  

‘Where is mom?’ Pony wondered, glancing down at her phone, silently hoping for some news. But there were no new texts or missed calls. Frustrated, she got up and paced for a bit, before plopping back down angrily on the couch.

It was Christmas Eve! Family should be spending time together!

When the sound of a car engine filled the air an hour later, Pony perked up, and she dashed over to the window where she saw her mother’s car driving up the driveway.

“Finally!” Pony exclaimed. Instead of going to the front door, however, she hurried back to the kitchen and turned on the oven to reheat the casserole she’d made.

When her mother entered, kicking her boots off and shaking snow off of her body, she found Pony setting the table.

“Hi, mom!” she said, all her annoyance from earlier gone, replaced by cheery peppiness. “The food should be ready soon! Just wait a little bit longer!”

“You made all of this?” Peggy asked, looking into the kitchen which was full of messy bowls and plates.

“Yup! I know it’s not much, but…”

Pony was cut off when she was suddenly wrapped up in a tight hug. Her mother’s shoulders shaking as she cried.

“M-mom?” Pony asked, surprised. Her mother wasn’t one to show her emotions so openly like this!

“I’m sorry!” Pony’s mother sobbed. The teen could couldn’t help it, and her own tears began to fall, and the two of them cried together, locked in each other’s embrace.

They mourned the death of their family member that night. Sadly, they weren’t alone. But perhaps the new year would bring better changes.

111 &&&&& 111

(Saturday, December 25th, 2123)

“Merry Christmas, Izuku!” Inko Midoriya – or ‘Mama-doriya’ as her close friend Mitsuki liked to teasingly call her – said as her darling baby boy came into the apartment’s dining room on Christmas morning.

He gave her a grin, but Inko could tell it was forced. Her own smile wobbled a bit and she hastily blinked away some tears.

Middle School had not being going well for her darling son. Her little green bean had been coming home with rumpled clothes and ruined school supplies for a while, but it had gotten worse, recently.

Yet Izuku refused to talk to her about it. Did he think she was blind? That she couldn’t see what was happening to him? He was being bullied! And some of the injuries… Inko didn’t want to admit it to herself, but they looked like burns.

‘All because he doesn’t have an extra toe joint,’ she thought to herself bitterly. Being Quirkless in an age of superpowers had hurt her son horrifically.

There were far more people without Quirks than people liked to admit, but it didn’t stop them from being discriminated against. The society that had been created was sick, and Inko hated that she couldn’t do anything for her son.

It didn’t help that her husband was working overseas. Inko loved Ryu, she truly did, but it was so hard being left alone to raise their son.

He provided for them, of course. Ryu made good money as a contract accountant, enough that they could have afforded to live anywhere they wanted in Japan, but it meant he was often working in other countries nine months out of the year. It left Inko feeling lonely, and she struggled to keep herself upbeat around her son at times.

“I made omelets,” Inko said, pulling the frying pan off the stove and putting the eggy breakfast onto a plate for her son.

“Thanks, mom,” Izuku said.

“When you’re done, we can open presents together,” she offered, and he nodded, perking up slightly at that.

Inko mentally offered a tiny prayer that Ryu’s gifts had made it in time. He’d paid extra to have a Quirk courier deliver them so they’d arrive on time. It didn’t make up for the fact he couldn’t be there today, but at least he’d tried.

After breakfast, the two of them went to the living room where a tiny plastic Christmas tree had been set up on the coffee table, with a few festively wrapped presents on the floor in front of it.

Wrapping paper was torn off by Izuku, revealing what he’d received from friends and family. Well, mostly family. Only a single gift was from non-family members, and that was the Christmas present from the Bakugo family.

This year, Mitsuki and her family had gotten Izuku an All Might t-shirt, which he loved. Next, Izuku’s grandparents had sent cards. That was it. No money, games, or any sort of gifts.

Seeing the half-hearted offerings made Inko’s blood boil. Neither set of grandparents were all that active in his life, and Inko knew they kept their distance because Izuku was Quirkless.

Inko’s own family had been one of the first in Japan to get a Quirk when they started to appear, and Ryu’s side of the family had always been… traditional, shall we say. As such, anything that went against the norm was looked down on. According to Ryu, that had meant his own grandparents had been firmly against Quirks and had gone so far as to disown his mother when she manifested her own. That resulted in Ryu’s parents going in the complete opposite direction, shunning the Quirkless for their lack of powers.

‘If I ever have to see them again, it will be too soon,’ Inko thought bitterly to herself. She knew Ryu had all but cut his parents out of his life when they had suggested he find a ‘proper’ wife who could give him a ‘proper’ child.

And speaking of Ryu, Izuku had finally gotten around to his gift, and was unwrapping it, revealing two t-shirts – a joke shirt with the words ‘Broccoli’ and an arrow pointing upwards and a purple t-shirt with a white fleur d’lys – and an action figure.

“OH MY GOD!” Izuku exclaimed, staring in disbelief at the toy, causing her attention to snap back to the present.

“Izuku!” Inko scolded him. “Volume!”

“But, but, but-!” he stammered, holding it up for her to look at. It was a nice action figure of All Might, Inko mused, but it didn’t look that impressive. Still just a toy.

“Calm down, Izuku,” she suggested, and he did, taking a few deep breathes. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you so excited?”

“Mom! This is a First Edition Silver Age All Might Action Figure!” he exclaimed, as if he couldn’t believe she wasn’t as astonished as he was. “Not only that, but this is a limited-edition version signed personally by All Might that was only available for people in the United States who sent in a hundred cereal box tops! Less than fifty are known to exist!”

“Is that so?” Inko hummed. Seemed like Ryu had gotten Izuku a rare collectable, then.

“Mom!” Izuku hissed. “A mint condition, still in the box version of this action figure, is worth over a million yen!”

“WHAT?!” she exclaimed in disbelief. “Where did your father get his hands on something like that?!”

“I don’t know!” Izuku replied, just as panicked as her. “Maybe he sent a letter?”

Inko belatedly recalled that yes, Ryu had sent a letter along with his gift to Izuku, and she scrambled to find it. When she did, she gave it to her son who opened it up.

“Um, dad says he meet somebody when he was overseas. He was an All Might fan who had a bunch of old stuff just gathering dust and sold it for cheap when dad told him I was also a fan of All Might,” Izuku said, reading the letter.

“Well, that was nice of him,” Inko said. She wondered if the person Ryu had met had even known how much it had been worth? Or if Ryu himself had?

“It was!” Izuku exclaimed, bouncing in his seat. “It’s going right on my shelf!”

“You mean your shrine?” Inko teased, and he flushed.

“It’s not a shrine!” he whined, cheeks still stained red.

She just leveled Izuku a knowing look, and he glanced off to the side, unable to meet his mother’s gaze.

Seeing that, Inko huffed. She loved her son, truly, but couldn’t his obsession with heroes be a little less overt?

‘I hope Ryu can come back soon,’ she sighed to herself. It could get lonely at times, and Izuku was such a handful.

111 &&&&& 111

(Saturday, January 1st, 2124)

Playa yawned, then immediately regretted the fact he was awake as a splitting headache hit him.

“Owww,” he groaned. “What did I do last night?”

He had been at a New Years party, that much he remembered. The Saints had been throwing it at the Mission, and pretty much every single member had been there, celebrating the destruction of two gangs and the arrival of new dawn for Stilwater.

He’d had a drink… then another and another until everything had gotten blurry. He remembered a few people passing out Nirvana, and he took some…

A muffled moan sounded out from beside him, caused Playa to stop trying to figure out what happened last night and instead look at his surroundings.

He was in his penthouse, in his big fancy bed. And there was more than just himself in it. Hesitantly, he glanced left and right, wincing as he saw green and pink hair on either side. Shaundi and Mink. Two of his own lieutenants.

There were worse people he could have slept with, Playa supposed with a wince. But having a relationship with your subordinates was a bad idea regardless if it was in a gang or not. Sure, when he and Lin had dated, they’d been in the Saints too, but they’d been co-workers. Equals. This? This could be bad.

Playa decided to let them sleep in for a bit longer, and after successfully extracting himself from the tangled sheets without alerting them, he padded into the kitchen to start making coffee and something to eat for breakfast.

“Ooof, my head,” Shaundi groaned back in the bedroom. Beside her, Mink whined and tried to burrow deeper into the blankets.

“Morning, sleepy heads,” Playa called back.

“Huh? Playa? The hell are you doing in my apartment?” Shaundi asked.

“How blitzed did you get last night?” Playa wondered.

“Uh… I think the last thing I remember was… Cheese?”

“I don’t… did we eat any cheese last night?” Playa asked.

“Ugh, somebody from accounting brought in a giant cheese wheel and we all ate some of it,” Mink informed the two. “But, like, you two were pretty out of it by then.”

“Well, I made pancakes. And there’s coffee, too.”

“Wooo,” Shaundi cheered without much excitement. She and Mink staggered into the kitchen and sat down at the dining table. Playa served them food, which they ravenously ate.

“What now?” Mink asked after a bit, looking up from her big stack of pancakes.

“I assume you’re talking about, uh, the whole sleeping together thing?” Shaundi asked her, and the pink-furred woman nodded.

“That’s right.”

Shaundi just shrugged. “I don’t see why anything has to change. It was a drunken fling.”

“I wasn’t drunk, though,” Mink claimed. “Well, not as bad as you two were.”

“Knew I should have refused that eighth tequila shot,” Playa grumbled. He then rubbed his forehead. “I kinda agree with Shaundi, though. Whatever happened last night shouldn’t have happened.”

Mink looked down at her plate, expression hard to read, but Playa was fairly certain she was upset by the decision, and he resisted the urge to grimace.

‘This is why relationships between friends rarely work out,’ he thought to himself.

“That said,” he spoke up, already regretting the words to come out of his mouth. “I am not… opposed to the idea of taking things further between all of us.”

“Really?” both of his partners from last night asked in unison. Shaundi was surprised and skeptical. Mink was surprised and excited.

“Yeah,” Playa nodded. “We can take it slow. See what happens.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first polyamorous relationship I’ve been in,” Shaundi mused to herself. “Eh, why not? Let’s give it a shot.”

“At least we’re already lieutenants, so nobody can accuse of us getting our current positions through nepotism,” Mink said, looking relieved at that, while also seeming rather giddy at the relationship itself.

“So! Enough mushy crap!” Shaundi declared loudly. “What’s the next plan, boss? What are we doing for the next year?”

“There’s only one gang left in Stilwater that can reasonably oppose us,” Playa replied, a shark-like grin on his face. “The Ronin are going down. I want them wiped out before Summer Break starts.”

“Tricky, but doable,” Mink mused. “The Ronin are far more entrenched than the other two gangs. Shogo was one of the first people to see the opportunities Stilwater presented in the wake of your coma. Rumor has it he worked with Ultor as well. The company would have never gotten so big without the Ronin’s help. And vice-versa.”

“Interesting,” Playa hummed. “That could be tricky. Has anyone heard anything unusual about Ultor recently? Any odd statements or actions?”

“Dane Vogel hired mercenaries to protect him after Maero threatened his life,” Mink said.

“Right, I remember reading about that in the news,” Playa admitted. “I don’t think those mercs could be an issue, but we better find out what we can, just in case.”

“So, besides possible aide from Ultor and their hired guns, anyone else we can expect to help the Ronin?” Shaundi asked.

“I think Johnny mentioned something about the Yakuza, once,” Playa replied. “Better start brushing up on my Japanese then.”

“You can speak Japanese?” Mink asked, impressed.

“Eh, more or less,” Playa said, waving his hand around dismissively. “I have an older cousin who’s half Japanese.”

He then frowned thoughtfully. “You know, I know your family, Mink, but what about you, Shaundi? I don’t think you ever mentioned anything about parents.”

“What can I say, they were pretty average Stilwater denizens,” Shaundi said. “Mom did tricks for cash and dad spent every paycheck on booze and hookers that weren’t my mom. They died when I was in middle school over some shit with the Rollerz, think they owed money or something. After that, I bounced between foster homes and orphanages till I graduated high school. Got a tiny scholarship for Stilwater U, but that’s where I met Veteran Child, so, uh, well, you already know how that turned out.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Mink said with a wince, and Playa nodded in agreement.

“It’s fine, I’ve come to terms with it,” Shaundi sighed. “Probably never would have spoken to them again if they’d still be alive when I turned 18 anyways.”

She then slapped the table. “Let’s talk about something else! Like what we should do for our first date!”

“Thought you didn’t want to talk about ‘mushy stuff,’” Playa teased, and she blushed.

“Shut it,” Shaundi huffed.

Playa laughed while Mink giggled, and even Shaundi started to chuckle a bit after a little while. The trio spent the rest of the day in a lighthearted mood as they got to know each other better. It was a good start to a new year in their opinion.