When Iron, West, Lunkhead, and Young Blood got off the cable car they found themselves on a desolate muddy road, surrounded by sordid tenement complexes. The only audible sound was the faint cry of a siren indicating that a medical carriage was hurrying somewhere. Iron began to walk, acting as if he was a resident of the 6th ward. The others followed, lumbering over the mud. They took a turn, where there was a woman in a pink top and purple skirt standing at a street corner. She appeared to be young, probably early twenties. There were bags under her eyes and a large brown spot on her right arm. Her short blonde hair had lines of black dyed into it.

“Hey y’all looking for a good time?” she asked them. 

“No thanks” Iron declined, continuing on his path. 

She looked slightly offended, then noticed Young Blood. 

“How about you little boy? Looking to become a man?” 

“Back up hoe! He’s 13!” West cut in, shooing Young Blood away. 

“Ain’t he cute.” she said, ignoring the insult. 

“How much?” Lunkhead questioned her. 

“50 gold for starters.” 

“Lunkhead stop! We ain’t got time for this shit!” West admonished. 

“What? 50 is cheap.” 

“Not what I meant.”

“Guys come on!” Iron yelled. 

“I’ll be back later….maybe” Lunkhead told the prostitute before catching up to Iron. 

West and Young Blood followed, the former shaking his head in disappointment. 

“Lunkhead why you gotta do that why we’re soldiering?” West asked as they continued their walk to the rec center. 

“What’re you talking about? You going gay West?” Lunkhead shot back. 

“No I’m saying you when you don’t think about fighting it’s sex. Not using your brain’s gonna get you killed one day. What if that prostitute back there was a Seraph or something?” 

“You overthink shit man. Just let hoes be hoes, it’s the natural order of things and helps with the economy or some shit. Right Young Blood?” 

“Yes?” Young Blood answered, not really sure one way or the other. 

“Hey no don’t bring Young Blood into this. He’s young and impressionable.” West interjected. 

“He’s a teenager, not a fucking baby. Stop treating him like he’s still a kid. You’ve seen pussy right Young Blood?” 

“You mean like a vagina?” the boy asked for clarification. 

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“The hell?” 

Lunkhead stopped in his tracks, looking at the boy. 

“We gotta change that. I know this one girl who’ll be gentle with you, her name’s Candy.” 

“No! The only candy he’s eating is from that candy vendor we extort.” West pledged.

“Guys quiet!” Iron yelled. “We’re here.” 

 

The four of them were in front of a large lot for carriages and horses. Across it was a two storied grey concrete building. There were a row of windows on the top and bottom floors but the only light visible emanated from a few on the first floor. It looked to them like there were lanterns lit inside. In front of the building were two Seraphs, wobbling to and fro. They were clearly drunk.

“West, go scout the place out, find out how many we’re dealing with.” Iron directed. 

“On it War Chief” 

West inhaled, holding it in. His body became invisible as if he got erased from existence. The only way the others could tell he was no longer with them was by the sound of his footsteps getting progressively quieter. West had activated the ability that made him the gang’s best scout, invisibility. As long as West held his breath, he and everything he touched became invisible to the naked eye, making him perfect for reconnaissance, thieving, or anything that required subtlety and secrecy. 

“Ok so what’s this about you getting a hooker for Young Blood?” Iron asked now that West was gone. 

“It’s nothing, War Chief. Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh huh. Young Blood, stay away from Lunkhead for awhile.” 

The boy stepped away from the giant. 

“Oh come on what’s the big deal?” Lunkhead complained. “I lost my virginity at his age.” 

“Is that a good thing? You might have an STD or something” Iron mentioned. 

“An ST-what?” 

“Hmm we gotta make you see a healing mage after this. It doesn’t hurt when you piss right?” 

“Not anymore than usual.” 

 

Fortunately for Iron, West reappeared, exhaling loudly to announce his appearance. 

“Ok there’s about a dozen in there. Looks like they were preparing a party for those sent to wreck our place. However they got too excited and started early so now they’re mostly drunken messes. Only problem I see is the metal door for the entrance. They must’ve replaced the original for something more durable.” West relayed.

“Easy pickings. Let’s teach these wanna be boppers a lesson.” Iron said, striding across the lot. 

The others walked alongside, stretching their arms. The two Seraphs tried to stop them but Lunkhead knocked down one with a punch, Young Blood kicked the other through a window. Iron stopped in front of the metal door, motioned for Lunkhead to handle it. The giant strode to it, then activated his aura based ability, ironization. The ability transmuted his flesh into living metal, allowing him to pulp heads like grapes. The only downside was that it didn’t allow him to move quickly. With his ability summoned, he punched the door down. The four strode inside where they found themselves on an indoor Hardball court. There were two silver goal posts placed on opposite ends of a smooth wooden floor. However the court was unusable. The court was covered with dirt, trash and grime. The brown walls, the goal posts, and even the scorecard were defiled by graffiti. Above the scorecard, for all to see, was a giant mural depicting the Seraph logo. It was the only thing in the room that looked like care was put into its appearance. Wandering about were Seraphs, slipping and falling as they drank from cups of ale. They hardly noticed the intruders. 

 

Iron pointed at the group, said “Wreck them quickly.” 

The three Outliers charged at them, making quick work of the Seraphs. They tried to fight back but given that their sober compatriots didn’t fare well, it was hopeless for them. Lunkhead bashed them, throwing them across the court for the fun of it. West took out his opponents without fanfare. Young Blood ran from Seraph to Seraph, unleashing kicks. He even kicked one through a goal post, making use of the court. Within 5 minutes the shambling drunk Seraphs were now unconscious. When they awoke they wouldn’t be able to tell if their heads hurt because of the hangover or the beating. The Outliers reassembled with Iron, who had been standing in the middle of the court, staring up at the mural. 

“I know you wanted to trash the place War Chief but look at this, there’s nothing to trash.” West remarked. 

“Let me tear the building down,” Lunkhead proposed. 

“All we need to do is replace that mural.” Iron replied, pointing upwards. “We replace that with our tag, and word will get around. That’s all we need. West, go handle it.” 

West went over the mural, looking up at it. He aimed his finger up at it, casting a spell to shoot out a spray from his index finger. He drew the symbol of the Outliers while Lunkhead and Young Blood threw a ball they had found between themselves. West finished, seeing their symbol overlaid that of the Seraph’s. He smiled to himself, happy with his work. 

“Good job West.” Iron congratulated. “Alright let’s head home. We’re done here.” 

Iron traipsed his way out of the rec center, followed by the others, Young Blood still holding onto the ball. They made it halfway across the lot when a lone crow landed in front of the group. 

 

It cawed loudly, hurting the ears of the four Outliers. 

“Outliers!” it screeched. “Good job.” 

They got ready to fight, unsure of what the crow was talking about. 

“You wrecked the Seraphs tonight. You’ve impressed us” it continued. 

“Who are you? How long have you been watching us?” Iron asked the crow. 

The crow appeared to chuckle but it came out as a weird coughing sound. 

“Silly boy, we’re always watching. Be not afraid, my appearance is a cause for celebration.” 

Iron’s eyes widened upon realization of whom the talking crow represented.

“You’re part of LS-95?” he inquired. 

“Correct!”

LS-95, a name every single outfit in Vim knew. They were the most powerful gang in the metropolis. Nothing of merit got accomplished in Vim without their say so. Their membership numbered in the thousands and was said their highest ranked members were magicians and fighters on par with the higher ranks of the adventurer’s guild in terms of power. 

“Outliers! You’re on our radar. You’ve been deemed worthy to receive an invitation to the parley!” the crow squawked. 

“parley?” Iron asked. 

“Yes! On the first day of Dayspring, send 7 representatives to the old arena. Be there by 1 am. Don’t bring weapons. The boss has a proposal for all the major outfits.” 

“What proposal?” West questioned. 

“It’s a surprise! Be there, or else”

 

The crow started to flap its wings, flying away from the group. They stood there for a minute, trying to process what just happened. 

“I know word travels fast, but god damn” West said, breaking the silence. 

“More like they know before word begins to travel” Iron remarked. 

“So what’re we doing? Are we going to this parley thing? The first day of Dayspring’s next week.” 

“I don’t trust these LS fucks as far as I can throw Young Blood” Lunkhead commented. 

The boy nodded in agreement, knowing that Lunkhead could probably throw him the length of two Hardball courts. 

“This is what I wanted right? Recognition? If all the outfits worth a damn are going then it’s an honor.” Iron reasoned. “Let’s head home guys. Guess we know what we’re doing next week.” 

The Outliers headed home, ready to end what had been a long and eventful night.