1964-02-19 - Bye-Bye, Blackie
Summary: Cain makes true on his word and aids Betty with her mob problem.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
cain elizabeth 

"I don't know about this." Betty stresses toward the massive figure that had joined her on her 'walk' that night through the park. She paces, having stopped by a certain path junction, lit dimly. When the wind kicks up, she hugs her jacket tighter around herself, hand up and brushing back wild sweeps of brunette away from her face. "If they hurt you, I'll never forgive myself."

Soon enough, but ten minutes late, three men can ve heard conversing with one another as they head down the path. They even look the part that someone might link with goons, or thugs, under the payroll of some self-proclaimed crime lord. One man whistles, clicking his tongue a bit Betty's way before falling deathly silent.

"The fuck is this, Brant? You know you're suppose to come alone."

"Do you think someone like me could tell someone like /him/ to not walk with me if he wants to?" She questions the goon, smirking his way, but nervously clutching her purse.


Cain cocks his head. He's wearing a massive coat, something that looks like it was made out of tarps, draped over his massive shoulders. No hat, his bald head on display as he gazes down at the thugs in question.

"Sorry, boys, I'm the lady's new accountant. I checked her balance an', from here on out, you an' she are square. No hard feelins," he says.

"Unless, o' course, you wanna make a fuss about it? Then…" he says and then he cracks his knuckles, the sound like tree limbs snapping in a strong wind, "Then we might have a few rough patches to work out."


"Are you kidding me with this, Brant? You know what happens if Gaxton doesn't get his pay." He warns, glancing nervously Cain's way before peering at Betty. She, however, glares back, and looks Cain's direction, then down once more. "You heard him, Frankie. I've been paying for Bennett for over a decade now. I know I didn't finish school, but I /do/ know how to count." Even while she explains, two of the three men casual walk around them, attempting to flank both Cain and Betty.

"Yeah, no hard feelings…get this guy out of my face, boys." He commands, his hazel eyes set on the brunette. "Think about your ma, Brant. Next time, maybe she won't get out of that mess with just a bump on the head, huh?"


Cain reaches down and puts a hand on Betty, calmly pushing her just a bit behind him. And then he stomps, hard, hard enough to shake the park, hard enough to make the ground underneath him crack.

"You ain't listenin'. That's okay, I get it. You're used to bein' the bully. Folks are scared of you, you get yer way, your boss goes home happy. But see…"

He reaches down and unbuckles his coat, shrugging it off. He's wearing a wife beater and pants underneath, but his physique is exposed, muscle on muscle, a huge slab of impossible man. And his eyes glow softly crimson as he lets the rage of Cytorrak flow through him.

"You tell your boss to take what he got and be happy. Or else I'm gonna do to him the same thing that I'm gonna do to your boys. And there ain't a damn thing you can do to stop me."


"Cain…" The girl murmurs in protest, even as her body moves back to where he places her. That stomp catches even her by surprise. They hadn't talked about all of that, his abilities, who, and what he really was, and as the world trembles, she grips at the back of his jacket for stability. Eyes wide, she stares up toward Marko, her arms now clutching his make-shift jacket to her chest, its ends rippling on the ground.

The trio of men didn't have anyone to hold onto, so two give a stumble and fall, as their leader, Frankie, keeps upright. "He's a freak! One of those fuckin' muties!" He exclaims, reaching into his pocket and taking out a switchblade. "You think that scares me? You don't /scare/ me, weirdo. Brant!" He barks, pointing her way with the blade. "You'll regret trying to pull this shit over on us."

Then they move, all three of them going in to attack Cain at once from different angles.


He lets them. The easiest way to show them is to let them find out. If he's stabbed, the blade will break. If he's punched, their fingers might. Nothing short of adamantium can break his skin - and even that's not likely to do more than scratch unless it's driven by superhuman strength.

Finally, he reaches out and grasps at one with a massive hand, palming his skull if he can manage it and flicking his wrist to send the thug howling off into the darkness, pitched end over and into the trees.


The blade does snap, as do a few of the fingers of one man who thought driving a fist into Cain's kidney was a good idea. Normally, these would be good ideas, but not tonight. The same man with freshy crunched digits flies off into the night sky, much to the alarm of his companions. Betty didn't watch, she was worried, as she said stated before. And so, she covers her eyes and keeps out to find that three have become two.

"Son of a bitch!" Frankie grumbles, reaching behind himself and pulling out a gun. Flicking back the hammer, she points it Cain's way, the object trembling as his fear starts showing. "Tommy, get back in there." He tell his friend, only for the man the shake his head and turn to beat feet. "COWARD!" Frankie cries out before looking back toward his massive target. "We'll find you, freak, and everything, everyone you love will be dead. No one messes with Blackie Gaxton." He threatens while squeezing the trigger.


Cain reaches out and wraps a hand around the gunhand, the bullets firing right into his palm and going flat against his indestructible hand. He squeezes then, crushing the gun and the hand together, shattering the weapon until jagged shards of metal pierce into the thug's flesh, grinding bone into powder within. No surgeon will be able to repair the damage done here - he might as well have it amputated.

"The only person I can think of that I love would gut you faster than I can," he smirks, imagining these amateurs trying to come after Raven. "You ain't gettin' it yet. I can't be hurt. I can't be stopped. And I can kill every single one of you pathetic human fucks without thinking twice. And I won't feel in the least bit bad about it," he says.

"So you go tell…'Blackie'…to chalk this one up as a settled account. Or else I'll come to his house and pull it down on top of his pointy little head. Capisce?"


The 'pow' muffles, but the sudden noise does cause Betty to jump. She's watching now, fully, and listening attentively. The sounds of horror and pain strangle out of Frankie's throat, and given his last warning, he nods. Sniffling, sobbing, he pulls away, yanking at his arm, until Cain releases him. Then, he's running down the path and a peaceful, wintery silence settles on the park once more.

"Cain…" Betty whispers, all volume in her voice lost in her dumbfounded state. "How…" Pausing, she moves closer to him and stands before the mountain of man that he is. "Are you ok?" She asks instead.


Cain chuckles, "Okay? Not a scratch," he says. "Told you, doll. Ain't nothin' that can hurt me. That wasn't just some macho boastin'. I'm the god damn Juggernaut," he says.

"Still, I rank about half and half that the guy's boss is just as ignorant and shitheaded as he was. I'm gonna have to find 'em. If you know can find this Blackie's address…I'll be happy to go knock on his door."


"Juggernaut." She repeats, nodding. "I guess that term does work. I just…I've never seen anything like that before." She confesses, and with some sense of disbelief, reaches out and pulls at his hand by the wrist. Turning it palm up, she checks, just incase there was some bullet dug into his flesh. Finding nothing, she 'huh's and chuckles. "Damn…Just…well, damn."

Offering him his coat, she glances down the path and back up toward Cain. "I can find it, but are you sure you're ok with this? You did what you said you would, being here tonight. You don't have to do anything else." Biting at her lower lip, her eyes flutter with a few blinks. "Is it over? I mean…do I pay you now or…shit. Now what?"


Cain snorts and shakes his head, "You don't owe me nothin', girl. You're a good kid, you don't need that kinda shit in your life. I don't got nothin' against crooks, but shakin' down old ladies is bottom feeder behavior. I'm a shark - I don't got much tolerance for scum," he says.

"An' like I said, you find out where the boss is at, I'm more'n happy to pay him a visit. These types tend to be on the stupid side and think they're invincible. Make sure to keep your Ma protected, too - they might strike out at her just to try and prove somethin'," he says.


"That's what I was worried about." She frowns, rubbing at the nape of her neck and then around them with a pinch of paranoia obvious. "I have some extra scratch now, so maybe I'll let her go on a lil vacation away from here." Anywhere in New York would possibly be dangerous after all. Smirking, she shakes her head and moves closer to him, hugging around his arm before reaching up and grabbing his shirt where she can.

"Good kid. Geesh, just make me feel like a square, why don't ya?" Tugging down, she tries to lead him to bed over, her feet pressing on her toes so that her cherry lips press a thankful kiss on his cheeks and lips proper. "I can't thank you enough for this Cain. Ever…" Letting him go, she settles flat on her feet, her brows sloping. "This doesn't mean I won't see you again, does it?"


Cain returns the kiss, petting the little woman on the head and shaking his head, "Nah, I'll be around. That's the thing about me - I ain't much good at hidin'. I'm pretty easy to find," he says.

"C'mon, we can get a steak or somethin', somewhere. Maybea few of 'em, in my case," he winks.


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