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Street Masters	By : HunterOpera Category: +S through Z > Street Fighter Views: 7424 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Capcom does, having created Street Fighter, Slam Masters, Megaman, Resident Evil, and a whole whack of other great games. I make no money from this, but I does like reviews. Pandering complete? Pandering comple

Chapter List
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Written as a favor to a friend, nine chapters or so are plotted out. I do this for feedback, so all reviews will be responded to within forty-eight hours; responses can be found here (just copy/pasta the link): http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/ Yes, it says it's a Metroid fic. I wrote it. I just wanted to consolidate my feedback and get some conversation going. Enough non-story dribble. Thanks for reading!
There had been a time when Damn had ruled the streets of Metro City, when anyone that wanted to do anything would have come to him to ask permission. Those days had been the sweetest of the sweet – he and his crew ruling every last bit of asphalt the sun ever touched. He'd felt like a local god back then, when he and his boys had walked free and clear, and the only criminal activities had been ones that he'd approved of.
Yeah, he'd been answerable to Eddie E. and Rolento and the Big Man, but what you gonna do? Every one's gotta work for someone else. The Big Man had been looking at expansion down the eastern seaboard, had already taken half the country when he got word things had gone wrong back home.
Some ex-wrestler had gotten into office, somehow. No one was paying attention and the elections hadn't been rigged and, hey, the dude looked big but he was a pro wrestler. Everyone knew those guys were fakers. Rolento had said something cool sounding about blood and circuses, and everyone had been ready to move on.
But this retired wrestler, practically a senior-fucking-citizen, had started trying to clean up the streets. In Metro City. There were streets in Calcutta and Bombay that wished they were as free of crime and thuggery as Metro City was, back in those days. The Mayor persisted, kept making noise, and it reflected bad on the Big Man.
“One must have one's own house in order before one can expand,” Rolento had said, speaking for the the Big Man in a meeting that included the head of the Andore family and Sodom and Damn and Eddie E.
“We'll get you the bastard's daughter,” Eddie E. growled. “We'll see about getting him in line.”
The duty had fallen to Damn, and he'd gone out and gotten her, and that was when everything went wrong. The fucking wrestler was buddies with a thug and a ninja, and the three of them tore through the streets, even killing the Big Man himself.
Damn hadn't been important enough to end up in prison, and his efforts to remake the Mad Gear gang had been throttled by Sodom, Rolento, and even the Andore family. It'd been a ten spot before he'd gotten a decent crew together, taken a couple of blocks again.
The fall of Shadaloo had been a huge blow to the underworld, the massive empire that some dude named Buffalo had made for himself falling apart overnight. No one was in charge of anything, and no one had any idea what the hell to do.
The time was ripe. The time for Damn to make a name for himself.
And then this happened.
One of the syndicates had come in, looking to take charge. Sin. The name was some sort of acronym, whatever that meant. There'd been some sort of coup, some chick coming in and taking charge. They'd sent out feelers to Damn had told her to blow him.
When she'd shown up in person, he'd gotten a good look and decided right then and there that she'd been an awesome lay. The way she moved her hips and licked her lips. Not much of a rack, but no one can be perfect. Not at first. He'd get her hooked on smack and then send her in for a boob job, have her turning tricks in Eddie E.'s old territory.
He stood up.
The first kick broke his arm. The second shattered his rib cage and destroyed his knee. She dodged around bullets, running and giggling, her eye glowing pink. Her feet kept lashing out, breaking brick walls and spines. The girl didn't seem to care.
Within thirty seconds she'd killed every member of his crew.
“Just look at you,” she said, licking her lips, running her hands up her chest and behind her back. “So strong, so limp at my feet. Get hard, big man. I'm gonna eat you all up... bones and all...”
Damn pissed himself, trying to back away. She jumped up, drove her heel into one wrist and then the other without touching down. He screamed, crying, trying to get away as she straddled him, the middle finger on her right hand running along his pecs.
“Never been with a real woman like me before, big boy?” she asked, her tongue tracing her teeth as that hand moved lower, slipping under his belt, grabbing his meat and teasing the tip. “Guess not. It's sort of a once in a lifetime experience...”
The door slammed open, a school girl standing in the light.
She had to be in her late teens, one of those tomboy types that Damn had never had much use for. He liked his women to look like women. If he'd been able to spell androgyny he would have hated the word, like he hated ex-wrestlers and ninjas and street fighters.
“Juri Han!” the girl said, her skirt kicking up as she fell into a fighting stance. “I, Sakura Kasugano, challenge you!”
The woman on top of him laughed, shoulders shaking, head thrown back so she could look at the school girl from the corner of her eye.
“You're challenging me?” Juri giggled, turning and standing at the same time, the motion smooth and serpent-like. “Ryu's little pet trying to move into the big time?”
“I'm not Ryu-Sensei's pet!” the girl cried, indignant.
“Oh, and where is your precious sensei?” Juri asked. “No one's seen him around in quite some time. You trying to wear some big boy shoes, little girl? He turn coward and now you feel the need to wear daddy's pants?”
“What're you talking about? I'm not wearing pants.”
“You won't be wearing anything by the time I'm done with you...” Juri said, lifting one of her legs, putting her arms in front of her. “School girl perversion is so passe, but for you I'll make an exception...”
If Damn hadn't been so terrified he would have agreed with the sentiment.
Both of them moved so quickly that he could not keep up. They lashed at one another with kicks that could slice steel, blocking one another's strikes and not carrying. Both of them tossed flaming balls of death at one another, neither of them seeming to be hiding any sort of weaponry that would let them do that. Both seemed capable of slight, both of them crashing through brick walls and using the chairs and tables that Juri hadn't destroyed taking out his crew without slowing down.
These two bitches ain't human, Damn thought. Nothin' human can do what these two bitches is doin.'
His home was crumbling down around him and neither one of them seemed to care in the slightest, batting away the falling debris with mild irritation. He cried, doing everything he could to avoid falling brick and steel and worse, things falling from above and crashing through the floor.
Damn fell through the floor, and neither of them seemed to notice. If he believed in a god he might have thanked that god, to be rescued and no longer underfoot the two gods fighting above him. He manged to turn over, using his arms to pull him to a corner, looking up through the cracks in the floor as the two fought.
He saw when something was tossed into the room. A small sound and haze followed, but neither of the fighters seemed to notice it. A couple minutes later, though, they both slowed way the fuck down, and he heard they slump to the ground.
A couple of men walked into the room, he saw, two guys dressed head to toe in body armor, wearing gas masks. They didn't carry rifles or guns of any kind, and Damn remembered Rolento telling him that there were people that didn't need a piece to be dangerous.
“Taze them to make sure they're out, then hit them with the serum for good measure,” an unseen voice said. “Take no chances.” There was the sound of a brief struggle, from where Juri had fallen, but then he head the bitch tazed and saw the silhouette of her getting injected with something.
“Anyone else in here? Alive, I mean.”
“We got a heat signature from the basement. ID is some ganger named Damn.”
“Damn? Really? Damn?”
“It's the only name he'll answer to. Reports say he's nothing like Rolento or Sodom, or even the Andore family.”
“No sign of Poison?”
“Nope.”
“Boss wanted Poison.”
“We got two. That's enough. What about Damn?”
“I got an angle on him from here. He's beaten pretty badly, and I'm pretty sure he's pissed himself. Looks like collateral damage.”
“Alright. Fuck him. We got what we came for.”
It was an hour before the cops arrived, another three to stabilize him. A whole day passed before someone entered the interrogation-emergency room, some military type with the stupidest hair Damn had ever seen.
“Hello, Damn,” the man said, then paused and looked at the nearest nurse. “Damn? Really? His name is Damn? Huh. Well, Damn, my name is Colonel Guile, and I'd like to ask you some questions.”
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Street Masters