Most people who knew Capper would peg him as a fairly laid back person. He generally rolled with whatever life threw at him, including the occasional punch intended to shut him up (he never did realize when to be quiet). However, that image clashed with the teenager's current condition, which consisted of him frantically rushing through his apartment, checking under every single piece of furniture.
"Nothing," he grunted, ripping out the recliner cushion, before moving to the couch, systematically yanking the cushions out, sweeping his hand in the exposed area. "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!" He threw his hands upwards, grabbing his hair and pulling it in frustration. It was enough to make him panic, nervously scratching his arms and chest.
There wasn't a single penny in the place. He'd checked everywhere he could think of, and he didn't have anything saved up. His parents were out of town, and nobody who could help him would answer their phone at this time on a Sunday night. Capper nervously glanced at the clock again, noticing it was already a quarter-past nine.
Capper took a deep breath, settling down into a chair. He had to think clearly, find some other way out of this mess. Maybe he could get out of the house, get away before they got there. Of course, they'd break in, maybe they'd trash the place. So what? It wasn't like he had any valuables lying around. If he did, he'd have taken them down to the pawn shop by now. There was time for him to fix up the house before his parents got back. Nobody would be the wiser.
But then the logical side of his brain kicked in once more. If he ran, they'd just get angrier. They'd never stop looking for him. They'd probably be smart enough to come back to the house, knowing he had nowhere in town to hide. Capper didn't have anybody out of town he could run to, and fleeing Canterlot was probably the only way to ensure they'd never find him. It was a nightmare. Maybe if he tried—
Capper's train of thought was brought to a screeching halt by the doorbell. The teenager froze where he stood, having no doubt in his mind as to exactly who was at the door. He'd thought he'd at least have a few more minutes to come up with some sort of plan, but that had turned out to be another delusion.
Capper weighed his options one more time. Admittedly, there wasn't a lot of variety to them. It was either try to sneak out through the back door or a window, and undoubtedly get caught. These people knew enough about Capper to have some extra guards around the house. It was just common sense at this point. The other choice was to just face the music. Neither was particularly appealing.
Sighing to himself, Capper gave in, getting up and walking to the door. This was his fault, he might as well face the music. Besides, if he didn't run away, maybe they'd cut him a little slack. Like only breaking one of his arms.
Capper smoothed down his tuft of blue hair as he went to answer the door. He also removed his red coat, hanging it up on the wall hook. If he was going to suffer for his mistakes, he'd rather that thing remained intact at minimum. It was the best article of clothing he owned, after all.
Taking one more breath to steel himself, Capper grasped the cool metal of the door handle, and yanked it open.
"Verko, my main man, great to see—" Capper started, but his voice died in his throat.
He'd assumed Verko would come to collect his debt personally, given how much the guy personally hounded him. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a young woman, who couldn't be older than her early twenties. Her skin was a dark purplish-red, perhaps orchid, and her spiky hair was a rose red. Her intense eyes were a shade of teal, with a prominent scar over her right. She wore a simple black T-shirt, on which a logo of two turquoise horns was inscribed, and blue jeans. Her right sleeve hung limply at her side, with little limb to support it.
"Hello, Capper," she said, disregarding the teenager's shock. "Lovely to see you again."
"T-Tempest?" Capper squeaked, visibly beginning to sweat. "I-I didn't think...Verko—"
Tempest chuckled to herself. "Yes, he was the one you made your deal with," she laughed, as though explaining a simple concept to a particularly slow child. "But ultimately, he works for the king, same as I. His money is the Storm King's money. And given his failure to make any progress with you, the Storm King has seen fit to place me in charge of your case."
Capper swallowed audibly. If intimidation was the goal, the Storm King had certainly secured it. If you weren't afraid of Tempest Shadow, you probably didn't have more than one functioning brain cell.
"Yeah, and besides, your place is right next to the bakery," said a voice next to Tempest, followed by a wet chomping sound. Capper looked down, finding a short and squat man in black clothes, with grey skin and a mohawk of white hair sticking out of his skull. He took another messy bite of his eclair, chewing with his mouth fully open.
Tempest groaned. "Grubber, you're throwing me off," she protested, raising her one fist angrily.
Grubber, ever oblivious, didn't change his expression at all. "Sure, whatever, boss lady. I'll go stand back." He walked off of Capper's porch, chewing away at his confection.
Tempest turned back to Capper. "Now then, to business. Where's the money?"
Capper tensed even further. This was it, the moment of truth. "I...don't have it," he admitted. "I'm getting paid this Saturday, but until then, there's nothing I can do."
He closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable blow that would find its way to his face. When nothing happened, he dared crack a single eye open. Unfortunately, this did nothing to assuage his fears, as Tempest was smiling.
"So, you won't be paying off your debts today," she said, examining the fingernails on her only hand. "What a pity. Still, at least you owned up to it. That doesn't happen very often."
She snapped her fingers. "Grubber, my tool, please." Grubber walked back into view, holding a long, thin object. Tempest picked it up, and Capper felt his stomach drop when he realized it was an electric cattle prod.
"We'll give you till Saturday, but you have to face some consequences." Tempest clicked the activator, producing a few sparks from the two prongs. "Don't worry, this'll only hurt for a minute." She smiled devilishly.
Capper swallowed.