CoffeeClutch

Here we go, page 3 of the series tie-in with Leg Up 2. Four of the character set here






Hmmm, lots of space below...Backstory? What to say...I know, let's transform Kettou- he's always go for a transformation.

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

“Excellent Tea, thanks !” The Barrista smiled then asked if I would care for a slice of Rice Pumpkin Bread to go with the Green Tea.

“Tempting, but I gotta watch my weight” I said, getting a quizzical look in return to which I continued “Yeah , my wallet’s too thin this week,” with a wink.

He put a slice on a small plate and slid it to me, saying “Trade for your TF story, I collect em’ , keep most in a journal for the future kids, they might want to know how it was before it was all just about eggs hatching!”

That sounded like a worthwhile project, so I began, while very soon getting an audience. You see, While there were more and more new dragons every day, very few are the Eastern or Lung dragons of which I was an example. To get the whole thing started properly was an introduction with mine as Lt. Shinkou Ryuujin of the 28th precinct. I soon had the Barrista’s name of Jarroth along with a pair of attorneys, FarmFresh and Skyder, plus a phychiatrist by the name of Dr. Crazikc.

The group was very soon drawn to the tale since I , unlike they expected- didn’t come from the serum or audio stimulus transformations so common today. In fact I was in scales very quietly for a few years before everyone started wearing them. From so many mysteries of the orient were all of the ways you could become a Lung, by an incantation, by handling a talisman bearing a curse or a charm, or by heredity. I would never have suspected heredity, but there are so many branches of the trees we come from that anything is possible. After the transformation my study found an ancient relative, skipping so many generations to my blood. However it took more to waken the sleeping spirit that waited within. Words from an ancient scribe acclaimed that many a person carries the dragon within them, but it is a matter of how large it is, how spirited and above all- how needed it is for the greater good. When summoned by any turn of events, it shall appear, changing places willingly with its host to assume the external appearance, but always the two in unity sharing the chi and spirit.

It would take an added event to bring my true nature out. We were on patrol, working the Chinatown beat while trying to learn the words we needed of all the dialects to be effective during our spare time. We practiced with the waiters or owners of the restaurants, driving some of them crazy, but most understood- we were making a great effort to be a part of the community, not just a guy who answered a 911 call, but someone who was there to hopefully stop a crime before it really got out of hand. The radio crackled a robbery call, location - a warehouse on Kunming Ave. We proceeded silently, arriving to find the front door broken down, very brazen plus likely very well armed. There was the gang, a hoodlum organization with several members there. Trying to stay alive while explaining the items in the room were a family newer to the America’s.

What had drawn the gang was their collection of antiquities, recently moved here to be turned over to a Asian cultural museum, an enormous collection. The hoods wanted it to simply pawn to the highest payer. Tommy and I (went by the name of Henry back then) stood off with the gang, pistols drawn- but only facing their gunmen, while others were starting to ransack the room. We were downstairs in a room with steel beams, you guessed it, no radio, no backup, no luck! One of the family members was being beaten but we couldn’t take our eyes off the gunmen. Another family member yelled at the gang members about the warriors curse, especially on the giant gong. Death awaited the one to make it ring, which was why it was in a padded box with a glass window. The gangsters laughed at this. Their leader approached us to yell for us to leave- “We don’t need your presence here- White Man!” he sneered.

A reply left my lips before I even though of it, which was mysterious enough “No, the artifacts here are not yours, they belong to all of the people of your community, you must leave- trespasser.... you filthy interlopers will draw the curse upon us!” Even Tommy was giving me a strange glance at the way I had spoken. A few of the gang started filtering out of the room, not because of my odd words but the fact of that ancient gong starting to glow!

A momentary spasm, a tight finger muscle....a trigger pulled and Tommy went down! I sought the best cover I could then opened fire. For ten minutes we shot back and forth, even Tommy raised up in pain to crawl behind a box while firing. A great worry descended as I pushed my last clip into the Glock, this would end soon.
A click and the hammer met no cartridge, Tommy was spent too. The gangsters came forward then sighted on me...click. We were now going to see if our Judo was better than our menu reading! One of the gangsters pitched his gun at me so I ducked, hearing next both the breaking of glass followed by the enormous ring of the gong behind me. A gong like no other.

While telling my story the younger of the Lawyers, Skyder actually had the Gong up on his laptop’s search engine so I could see the brilliant disc once more, it made me recall the sound, that hideous sound, one which instead of descending in note and power, was getting stronger with each second after being struck! My bones began to rattle, along with my teeth as they began falling out. Muscles tensed then convulsed- this was it, my end was surely moments away. Tommy plus all the gang were writhing on the ground as I dropped too.

I looked at my hands watching them wither down, the skin crack and curl into dried bits, no.. these were...scales!? My back wrenched many times like being pulled apart, somehow I was growing longer. More scales but no withering, instead, under the blue covering, muscles began to increase and become denser, much denser. The bones of the legs all snapped into the position of animal gait, whatever it is called, and at the tips of all the remaining appendages (a few fingers fell out) became long claws, like those of alligators or vultures. Hair was sprouting now, and the color had changed to a dull yellow, starting at my head while running all the way down to my .... TAIL! a TAIL! What am I becoming? I could only use Tommy as a guide. Equally yellow chest plates appeared and ran from chin to the tail where a fur poof ended it. The last of my uniform shredded away, was my humanity also in tatters?

Then I remembered the Lunar New Years parade, the young dancers in that big cloth and paper costume... the Dragon. The long whiskers were sprouting from my face as it pushed into a crocodile-ish muzzle, complete with fangs. Then, BLIND... but soon many flashes of light as the eyes seemed to be squeezing in their sockets. Blurry but at least not blackness, clearer, clearer..., clearer yet, beyond what I could ever see before. Joined soon by incredible sense of smell and hearing. Later noting the flying ability, yes, the full package- even fire!

Tommy struggled to his feet...paws.... to stand up but quickly dropped on all fours. I began to do the same. It was being able to walk upright on two but now, more comfortable plus - instinctive to walk on all fours. We looked around the room , the family was re-entering the space, all intact- a miracle. The gang? all prone on the floor, crumpled- hot to the touch, like they had been liquefied inside, I reeled for a moment, what had we unleashed? The older family members were quickly using wood to cover up the gong again, its monumental tone must be not heard again. Tommy walked up so suddenly hacked then coughed, spilling all of his old human teeth plus the four 9mm slugs he had taken onto the floor, looking up with a stunned expression at me.

An elder family member explained that the gong of warriors was not a simple celebration or ritual noisemaker, it was a weapon, not only felling those with evil intent, but finding the ears and hearts of those who defend life while changing them to the best possible defenders, into dragons! Those with neither malice or justice but those of neutral mind, simply heard a loud gong, nothing more.

Amazingly, as we conversed with the elder, we were doing so in perfect Mandarin Chinese. Both Tommy and I could speak the two dozen dialogs, along with Japanese and Korean. Over the following days, more discoveries, more abilities. The elder explained that our lives were like wet clay, completely remolded and re-cast. We were staying in this form for a reason, ‘to serve and protect’- just as it reads on the front fender of all our patrol cars.

How would we serve now though? Tommy looked to me for an answer. “Tommy, I’m just going down to the station house to explain it just as it happened. A lie or no explanation would be no more believable anyway,” I said.

The family drove us to the station, one of us in a pickup truck bed, the other in the back of the patrol car, which was being driven by the mother. All of those new abilities, but feet too short to reach the gas and brake pedals.

The last words of the experience coincided with the last bite of the cake as I noted that the two officers were quietly kept where they would do the most good, besides- what amount of paperwork would you be in for explaining twelve dead criminals along with two officers turned into no-longer-mythic-creatures? Along with a musical instrument that must not be played, that must go to the museum behind shatterproof glass..

Our audience all smiled as this was surely a new one for all of them to hear. I matched their thanks along with a refill of tea with a bow and “xie xie” followed with a Domo Arigato.