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Shadowboxer

Fear No Evil

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The sky purples as evening sets over Freedom City, and a gentle breeze pushes the clouds out to the Great Bay where they press into each other and drift over the lapping waves. Tonight promises to be warm and pleasant.

Within Our Lady of Mercy, patrons sit in mismatched chairs at the long tables that crowd the soup kitchen and enjoy their meals. Steam pours out of the kitchen in the back of the room. Volunteers stand behind a winding cafeteria-style counter, handing out plates to the patrons. The number of people who use the soup kitchen has increased lately, yet the staff and volunteers continue working hard to ensure everyone gets a plate. The interior is alive with the hum of conversations and clanking forks.

Liam stands behind the counter with the other volunteers wearing a stained apron. He hands out plates and greets everyone that comes up to take one. Some of them are familiar faces, but he notes that many of them are new arrivals. After weeks of bruising his knuckles against bad guys, he decided to resume volunteering at ease his mind. Besides, he can pick up morsels of information that Nightrival may never hear. He gives an older man wearing a checkered jacket a plate and he realizes that no one else is in line. Liam grabs a towel draped over his shoulder and wipes his hands.

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The old guy starts to turn away with his meal, but then stops himself.

"Thanks for the grub, kid; it ain't easy out here these days, and it's nice to see that some of you young folk helping us out."

He smiles, displaying a snargled mass of teeth behind his white beard.

"You got family here in the city? Nothin' more important in the whole world than family."

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