Astaroth
[*screaming into the void intensifies*]
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It's that time again! Welcome to the voting thread for our second run of MISC: the Miscellaneous Iwaku Storytelling Contest. Unfortunately, we didn't get as many submissions as we did in September... but we hope this means that more people will be able to vote and give feedback on every entry.
Remember, your vote is public and voting for your own entry will get you disqualified. Also make sure you've made up your mind before you click that button, because you can't go back and change it once you cast your vote.
To review, this month's theme is:
Write a story about a character based on one of the following tropes:
A. The Mystical Waif
B. The Naive Everygirl
C. Little Miss Badass
You may either play it straight and stick true to the archetype or give it a twist and subvert the trope.
And, as was the case last month, here are the prizes up for grabs:
This thread is where you, the community, will select your favorite! In the case of a tie in public voting, all parties with the most votes will be awarded the Community Pick prize. This thread is also where the Managers will announce their choice once judging and voting are over.
Without further ado, here are this month's entries!
Her bare feet padded on the ground near silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise the forest made. Sighing, she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of flames, dancing, twirling and sharp and as deadly as a red hot blade.
When she woke in the bright morning light she grimaced and brushed unruly hair out of her face so she could see clearly, the bright silver strands always flew into her face from the breeze that danced through the forests. Looking to where the people had settled the night before she grimaced, they had long since left, the ashes of the fire would be cold to the touch and she didn't doubt she would be able to find them again if she truly wanted to.
Looking down at herself, she frowned, her feet were packed with mud and the stray leaves from above her had tangled themselves quite thoroughly into her hair. Picking out one of the still green leaves she starts to walk deeper into her forest. Quickly finding the almost invisible path she follows its winding whirling road to her home, a small hut, it wasn't large at all but it could house a few people if they didn't mind sleeping on benches or in wraps on the floor. As she opened the door, she smiled as Shiya yipped in greeting. The bright red fox raised her head somewhat tiredly though her eyes were alive with silent fire, Shiya tilted her head as she watched the silver haired girl soon she was turning back to her kits who were covered with her tail as they slept in the corner of the house away from any feet who strayed as they walked around the golden wood floor.
Darting to the back of the house where there was a small lake in which to clean herself the girl sighed, getting the heavily caked dirt off of her being. After bathing she walked back into the house where she dressed in a pale orange dress and tied her hair up in a loose braid. As she danced around her house cleaning any surface, she could find she sighed, a sad sound like someone who was breathing wrong to keep from crying, and jumped, startled as loud, insistent knocking banged on her door, the house tended to make the noises louder than they actually were and it would startle her every single time.
Walking over, she opened it and peered out to see the few people tiredly standing at her doorway "hello" greeted the girl who must have been knocking on the door "I'm Abell, I was wondering if you could possibly help us?" Abell spoke in a heavily accented voice, and she was looking to the people standing behind Abell, now more alert that the leader was speaking, she nodded.
"I'm Linna, it depends" Linna opened the door wider once her hands had stopped shaking "what do you need?" she spoke quickly looking up at the leader who was nearly two heads taller than her, though she was taller than most of the men there as well.
"A healer, we have many warriors, but we are quite useless without a guide and healer, we also need to know the way through the forest to the east side if you do not wish to come with us" she explained gesturing to the people behind her as Linna nodded.
"I will come with you, " she spoke quietly and with a forced smile "unless you need something else we could go now?" they all looked surprised as she stepped out and closed the door behind her without waiting for an answer.
"No we can go" and they set off with Linna leading the way and as they travel together. With the two of them leading days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Eventually they got to the destination, all with their fair share of scares and horrors only they had to see. "Let's do this" snarled Abell glaring at the too tall door and the cave it had once blocked before it was forced open.
"Be safe" reminded Linna, her knuckles white from holding too tightly onto the staff, she had gotten it from her mate as a gift not so long ago, and with a chase kiss and A echo of what she said they walked bravely into the cave. Suddenly the silence that was once overlaying the group was broken by the sound of metal on metal and it was so loud and overwhelming. The fires were brighter and the thing they fought were no longer men or woman and at the sight Linna backed away, casting as many and as powerful as she could manage spells.
But it was not enough, it never was, and as she watched them get stabbed and killed one by one tears rose in her eyes and only did they run when she saw the horrified face of her wife as she was cut through the middle by a rotting rusted sword.
Bare feet padded on the ground silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise. As she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of fire so bright it burns your eyes and she knows no matter how many times she returns she will always say yes.
"Well, if it ain't lil' Miss Eliza. How ye holdin' up, girl? Rest of the Hudson treating you good?"
Eliza crawled on all fours, the strength in her body returning measurably. Her world spun around and around, yet before her she could see the waters of the Red River. Teeth crunched together, a hiss of determined frustration escaping her lips, driving her ahead to the sacred water. A perforating stench of something diseased and wicked hit her nose, the work of the Devil flowing like a miasma. With a deep breath, Eliza dove her head forward, plunging it into the summer waters of the great, winding river.
"Well, Felix threaten to gut me if he caught me wearing this fur coat again and not dressing like a proper lady. He is scaring me as of late, Grenadier."
In an instant, she reeled back, baptized and awake. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, Eliza gulping unsteadily, that horrid stench of still hitting her nose. Pulling her legs up, climbing out of the Red River, the lone "trapper" flinched, a wall of eerie mist greeting her lost gaze.
"Hey now, don't give the Frenchie too much problem child. He just isn't used to you being a part of us for the time being. After all, a little girl like you should be in a warm home out by the coast, Eliza, not with men like us. I know we found you...well, not in the greatest of times, but ya know how it is. Redskins have gotten a lot more violent as o' late. Wouldn't want to see yourself without a scalp now. And please, just call me Daniel girl. I've known you for three months now, don't need to keep remindin' me of the war I fought."
Whispers of phantoms danced in her head, each timid step into the unknown causing young Eliza to cover her mouth with her hands. All around she could see them- their bare, mutilated bodies almost unrecognizable, but the names rolling in her head. Butcher Nathan lay broken underneath a dead horse, a musket clung in his now cold hands. Courier Felix lay alone in the burnt storage shack, all the beaver furs stolen, the sabre from his grandfather whisked out of his hands. Eli laid burning still on the campfire, Andre missed a leg, Jeremy barely had a neck, and by the time Eliza could comprehend the rest of them, she swore she saw faces of men that didn't look familiar in the slightest. After awhile, all she could see was red, and before the preteen knew it, she keeled over, emptying her stomach on a small part of wilderness that she and many others of the Hudson Bay Company called home.
"But you know it, Daniel, the Hudson found me months ago. Now I know you don't like me bein' here, but you know well that I don't got a choice in the matter and I dun proved my worth here. Hell none of you ol' men doesn't know how to cook a rabbit for godsake, yet you can fight and skin bears? It isn't fair."
Isolation and dread coursed through the child's heart, frantically looking left and right, the preteen sniffling and convulsing. For a second time, she escaped the parade of Death, first her village by the Sioux, and now, the Hudson. Looking over at the bodies once more, she saw one face missing from the thirty- a face she knew far too well for two months. Staring down briefly, she brushed her hand against the muddy outline of a boot, raising her head to follow the fading path. Hope, however faint and futile, blossomed, Eliza staring over at the titans of oak that loomed ahead as harbingers of truth. Stumbling over herself, taking one step after the other, the French trembled, wandering into the woods, following the footsteps of a grenadier.
"I…I know Eliza."
She trudged through the woods, one step after the other, seeing the footprints grow more distinct, pearly bits of white snow beginning to fall, an unusually cold day in summer. The snow wouldn't stick- Eliza knew it wasn't cold enough. But, the white pearls descending from the grey mist above left an uneasy feeling in her bosom.
"Look, I'll tell you what, I thought 'bout going back Ol' England to see my niece."
Up and down she voyaged through the green and brown sea, past creaks, under fallen giants of lumber, following the steps of a regimented soldier marching away. A soft smile crept on her face, a sad remembrance of how the grenadier had saved her from being the amusement of the Sioux.
"After fightin' the Yankees at Queenston, I lost my wife and sons to the Shivers."
The sun above her begun to shine fully, peering through the falling leaves, Eliza pushing through rows and rows of bushes, arriving onto a clearing within the heart of the woodlands. Her smile of yore instantly faded.
"She is the only person I got left in the family, and they say she can't make a child."
Fabrics of red and white lay before her, stiff and nearly untouched. Propped up against the tree, she saw the old grenadier in harmony. She couldn't tell if blood was on the redcoat or not, all she could see is the eerily uneasy face of an old man smiling in his eternal slumber, his old "Baker Rattler" resting in his arms like a babe, the bayoneted rifle having seen years of service. Yet, just like its master, it now rested, sound and quiet, not even the chirping of birds or the cawing of buzzards in the air. Approaching the elder slowly, Eliza calmly sat down to her knees, reaching over to brush her hand against the cold, whisky cheek. No tears fell, no sorrow expressed, only the unbearable sound of silence- the sound of the last trapper, not a grizzly man, but a lone frontier girl.
"So, and I know this all so fast for you, but how would you feel like living with her? I'll be there, you'll be living like a proper girl. It'll be a new start for you. I promise you, Eliza, I promise to help you in some way when this is all set and done. Just think on it, okay? Now, c'mon on, lets go get some water by the river."
"You are a liar, Daniel."
The last trapper rested her head on the chest of the dead elder, one hand on his Baker Rattler, the other balled into a fist, the dream of York forever dashed. In the faint distance, she heard the splashing of water and the cackling of men.
Her work wasn't done yet, not while she was still breathing.
A certain solar system near Sol, orbit of Nssry, "Deryu" Orbital Complex, Galactic Peacekeeper Branch HQ, Personal Quarters
I was walking towards the mess hall when my comm device notified me that someone was calling me. I answered the call and could immediately recognize the voice of my boss's assistant AI: "Cadet Officer Krren, please report to Major Dyyr inside one galactic cycle." "Looks like lunch will have to wait," I thought to myself and changed my direction towards my commander's office. I was there roughly half a cycle later that I reached the entrance to Major's office and was greeted by the nanographic representation of Major's assistant AI. The cloud of nanobots that made up this representation was currently simulating the appearance of a young female Jaddean. I returned the greeting and entered the doors. Majot Jyyd Dyyr was an old, battle-scared Jaddean and a veteran of the Jaddea-Kudis War. Just like all Jaddeans he had their distinctive cat-like features – the ears, eyes, tail and fur, trough their coloration was not something you could naturally see on a cat – the fur was red with green spots while the eyes were somewhere between teal and lime.
The Major spoke up as soon as the doors closed while at the same time turning on the nanoprojector in the room: "You are here Cadet Officer Jellya Krren. Let me give you a quick briefing." As he went on talking the nanographics started showing telemetry from an automated drone: "Three spins ago a routine scouting of Ynnes, or Earth how do the locals call it, found out a that a heavily-damaged Hudde battle group was in the process of invading the planet, which we believe started roughly four spins ago. Unfortunately I and the Peacekeepers are extremely short-handed in this region of space – all active agents are busy with other operations. I got approval from central HQ so I am promoting you to Private Second Class and temporally granting you the rank of Field Agent. You are to take one of the Protector suits and a Guardian craft and deal with the Hudde. Try solving it peacefully, but you are authorized to use lethal force if they engage you or refuse to comply. Any question?" I responded: "No sir! Private Krren will now prepare to move out!" "Good, be ready to move out inside half a tick," the Major finished, but as I left the room, added: "And good luck Private." The doors closed behind me and I rushed to get to the hangar bay…
… after finishing giving the instructions to the mechanics on how to prepare the Protector and Guardian that I have been granted usage for this mission I took my time eating a nice meal and packing up some reserve clothing and some other things I might need. After making a stop in the armory to get an Uddre laser pistol for myself I returned to the hangar where the Protector suit was waiting next to the Guardian starcraft. I wasted no time and entered the Protector suit. Designed by several corporations with the help of leading military experts from all over the galaxy the Protector suit was a marble of engineering. Powered from a remote power source via wireless energy transmission or by its on-board miniaturized antimatter-matter power plant, it could easily equip up to four heavier and ten smaller weapons while also producing shields that rivaled the power of most starcraft shields. Additional protection came from the smart nanoarmor that covered it and which could quickly adapt to resists attacks from almost all know weapons carried by infantry and land vehicles. The Guardian starcraft was also a fine piece of craftsmanship. Created in a similar way as the Protector suit it was several times more powerful then an ordinary starcraft and able to take on almost any smaller spaceships of recent build. After the suit closed its on-board AI greeted me: "Welcome Private Krren. This suit operating a full efficiency and is ready for combat." I didn't waste time in responding and quickly moved to enter the Guardian's cockpit. After doing the standard check on both the suit and the craft I risen the craft from the hangar's floor, as its doors opened. I flew out of the station and followed the navigational instructions for leaving the orbital space of Nssry…
Roughly two thirds of a spin later, near Neptune's orbit.
After entering the system I was making good progress and when I neared the orbit of the furthest planet of this system, a deep-blue gas giant, my sensors picked up the Hudde ships hurdled around the only moon of Ynnes. It made me wonder why they weren't conducting orbital bombardment of the planet so I bought up the information about Ynnes that we had. And just looking at their technological level was enough to give me the reason – the locals, which called themselves "Humans" and looked similar to my own race, the Atuye, possessed thermonuclear weapons. If they had enough of those they would be able to inflict serious losses to a Hudde fleet, since the Hudde had only rudimentary shield technology. Well I guess I will have to deal with the Hudde ships first and then see the situation on the ground...
A bit later, roughly half an AU from Earth.
They finally noticed my Protector and started to deploy into battle formation against me. Well to bad that will not work since my craft heavily outclasses any Hudde warship. I was the first to gain firing solutions on the Hudde, but waited, sending messages to them to stand down and prepare to be taken into custody. They didn't respond and since they starred firing at me once I was in their range I returned fire, spraying high-energy lasers and bolts of super-accelerated, super-heated plasma on them.
As one of the last ships went up in flames suddenly a bolt of highly energetic plasma hit the craft, penetrating the shields and tearing a hole in my main power node. A quick glance on the sensors revealed a Leddus destroyer that remained hidden on the moon until now. Now that was something that outclassed my craft, especially after I lost a third of the craft's power management systems. I quickly turned engines and shields to maximum, turned on jamming, started sending a distress signal, set the AI to electronic warfare and deployed several active and passive decoys as I accelerated to max speed while changing my course towards the planet.
Scanning the situation on the surface as I rushed towards it, it was revealed that the locals were putting up one hell of a fight against the Hudde, despite the initial Hudde orbital bombardment destroying or damaging a fair amount of their military assets and key infrastructure. I identified key Hudde field HQs and forward facilities as I lowered my orbit and launched plasma bolts on them, scorching them to nothing. Finally I imputed instructions for the craft to go into the planet's largest ocean while keeping silent, while I prepared to jump out over one of the planet's landmasses. As the craft descended towards the Pacific Ocean I opened the cockpit and rolled out, allowing gravity to plummet me towards the ground while the Guardian closed the cockpit and flew on.
Lest then a cycle later I could see a city in flames with occasional flashes as the Hudde and locals exchanged fire with each other. Adjusting my descent I landed on a Hudde landcrawler, turning it into old scrap and gaining the attention of every Hudde in the area. Without wasting any time my suit locked on the Hudde and started spewing fire with the shoulder and leg mounted lasers while I used my arm-mounted guns to mow down Hudde vehicles. After dealing with most of the Hudde in this area I moved on, slowly attacking Hudde frontlines until they started retreating.
With that done I moved towards one the human landcrawlers, which at a glance looked impressive and with a scan was confirmed to be an engineering masterpiece of their technology. I ordered the suit to "roll" back my "helmet" while keeping an eye on the locals. I sat down next to a destroyed Hudde landcrawler and said nothing until one of the locals gathered courage and asked: "Um, who are you? Are you an alien invader to?" I answered: "I am Private Second Class Jellya Krren, Galactic Peacekeepers. Here to deal with the Hudde, or how you said alien invaders. And I am an alien if you must ask." At that he stood there baffled. Another soldier asked: "So miss Karen? Kreen? Peacekeeper? How do you plan to do that?" I answered: "Well, not sure. I was engaged by an unpredicted enemy after I destroyed most of the Hudde spaceships. My craft took damage and will probably need time to repair. I sent out a message but who knows if it will reach anyone and then it is not sure that help will be sent. I guess that making their land assault fail would work for now, but that will take a bit of time. I guess I might even celebrate my thirteenth standard here." Some of the soldiers gave me a weird look, but I didn't care and said: "Well rest is over, time to get back to work."
Just as I said those words something rained down from the sky, landing in the area around my current position, causing the ground to shake. There was only one thing that did that and those were drop pods with troops. "Leddus special forces damn it," I squeezed trough my mouth as I "rolled" my "helmet" back over my head. "Get the hell out of here humans, those are foes that you can't hope to match just with tactics and tendency" I said to the forces of the locals as my sensors showed several enemies converging on my position. After a quick discussion the humans pulled out just a moment before the first suit-clad Ledd opened fire on me. I ducked behind a destroyed landcrawler, knowing well how Leddus SF operated. I aimed at one part of the sky and like expected a Ledd popped up there only to be blasted to oblivion with plasma. I moved on, just in time to evade the barrage of missiles hitting my previous cover. I run into a building, using the walls and columns to evade fire while taking snapshots at the Leddus soldiers, but since I didn't manage to get a clear shot at any of them I still had to face all fifteen of them. Then one of the Leddus was hit with a human anti-crawler missile and when he turned to return fire I took the opportunity to turn him into molten Ledd. Then next one fell to a booby trap I set using an antimatter grenade. After that I had to jump from this building to the next one, a moment befre a massive blast of plasma from space struck the one in which I was. It was close, but I knew that the humans would not waste the chance and my long-range sensor confirmed the launch of several rockets full of termnuclear warheads towards the Leddus destroyer. Not enough to destroy it, but it will probably make it retreat to a safe distance.
The humans were the one to take down the next Ledd using a barrage of missiles from a VTOL rotorcraft to bring it down to the ground and then using demolition charges to collapse two buildings on him, burying the Ledd alive. The next two were taken down by me when they descended to help the buried Ledd. Now there was only ten left and I could risk a bit more. The next one fell in a gunfight with me, trough he managed to take out a fair amount of strength out of my shield. The one after him was surprised with a shot trough the window that came after I broke trough a thick wall. Three were taken down when a tactical nuclear missile hit them, with two more sustaining damage from the blast and retreating. That left three more.
I took care of two more in tense gunfights, emptying my shields and having to face one last one. Finally I managed to get him in my sights when a massive explosion hit the city. A massive blast wave lifted me of the ground and as the suit did its best to prevent the acceleration from killing me I lost consciousnesses…
Unknown time later, somewhere
… I was woken by a splash of cold liquid. As my senses returned to normal I started to hear voices and focus my vision. Finally my hearing could make out words.
"Is she awake?" "Not completely lord." "Why is she taking so long?" "She barely survived a blast wave from an antimatter explosion lord. It is amazing that she is basically uninjured at all."
Finally with those few last words I completely regained vision. What I could see was a command bridge of a Leddus destroyer, albeit dressed up all gaudy and grandiose like some medieval palace. I myself was kneeing, hands bound by cuffs, some two meters from the captain's seat, trough it looked more like a throne then a seat. The seat was occupied by probably the fattest and ugliest creature I ever saw, trough it quickly came to me that I was looking at an Yrudian. Vile and evil, the Yrudians were once rulers of the galaxy but after the Great Galactic Rebellion disappeared back into the Magellanic Clouds. The Yrudian spoke: "Glad to have you on my ship Private Krren. I am surprised to see someone as young as you as an agent in the Peacekeepers. Only twelve and half standards old, the Peacekeepers must be really short on personnel. Well I hope you will enjoy your stay. We will have many days of fun together. I really need to properly reward you for screwing up my plans with that little planet. But I guess we will have time to talk about that later." "Over my dead body slime," I said back at which it risen on of its tentacle-like limbs and struck me with it, lunging me to the floor, which I hit with my side and said: "I control your life girl so you better show me respect or I will end it." "I will show you respect when you stop being a evil, slime-covered bastard. Also kill me all I care. You will have the whole Peacekeepers after your ass if you do," I responded. At which he slammed me with the limb again while responding: "I doubt anyone will be coming after you since we are almost ready to turn that planet and everything on it, including every last piece of evidence you being on it to nothing." "You monster," I said at that as he shouted: "Start charging the micro black hole generator!" But before a response could come the sensor officer said: "Lord! A Taklad frigate squadron has just jumped next to the fourth planet. They are coming here." "Damn them, how long we have," the Yrudian asked. Using the distraction I quickly confirmed that they didn't find my Uddre laser pistol which turned into a thin sheet of harmless-looking nanobots. As the sensor officer responded: "Two cycles at worst sir. And we need at least three to get the generator charged lord." I already made the gun appear in a position to shoot at the cuff's energy unit. I ordered the gun to fire as the Yrudian ordered: "Start charging, the remaining Hudde ships will simply have to buy for time." With a short laser burst the cuffs were rendered useless and I wasted no time to grab the laser pistol, aim it at the Yrudian's head and fire out while shouting: "Die!" As a laser beam cut a hole into his head I wasted no time to move it around and cut away a decent part of it as he screamed in agony. As the rest of the crew took to their arms I was already running while overcharging the pistol. As the first shots fired at me I run out of the bridge, tossing the pistol, taking a laser hit to the shoulder and then closed the door.
Not waiting to see if anyone on the bridge survived the explosion of the overcharged laser pistol I run on, soon catching a Ledd of guard, which allowed me to knock him out, take his plasma pistol and put a bolt of plasma into his skull. I moved on, trying to reach the hangar when the shouting voice of the Yrudian could be heard trough the ship: "The Peacekeeper bitch has escaped! Find her and bring her to me! ALIVE!" I wondered how tough was that thing to survive a part of its head being cut off with a laser and then an explosion of a overcharged laser person, while I run onward, having to put plasma bolts into several crew members, which was annoying, but increased the amount of firepower I had.
I had no way of telling how long did this running around last, but it was definitely enough time for the Taklad frigates to reach the ship and destroy the few last Hudde ships. As the ship took hits I knew they had no way of knowing I am on-board and could only enter the nearest life pod and hope for the best. Finally the Leddus destroyer was done for and started to break apart under Taklad fire. Then for some reason the destroyer fired its, by now, malfunctioning FTL drive. Usually such thing would mean death so I closed my eyes for what I thought I was the last time. But as the FTL was about to activate I could feel that familiar feeling of being teleported and thus I opened my eyes once again, standing in the teleportation room of the lead Taklad frigate. I stepped off the teleportation pad and allowed my conciseness to disappear so I could get a well-deserved rest. And thus I finished my first mission and first visit to Earth.
Terms
Timekeeping
Cycle – roughly equal to ten minutes, based on the common cycle time of an antimatter-matter plant
Spin – roughly equal to 30 Earth hours, based on the standard spin time of orbital rings
Tick – roughly equal to 2 Earth hours, based on the time needed for each tick of the Memorial Clock of the Great Galactic Revolution
Standard - roughly equal to 10 Earth months, based on the standard year of the planet where the Galactic Council (and the central Peacekeeper HQ) resides
Races
Jadde – Humanoid creatures with cat-like traits (ears, eyes, tail and fur). Males are usually slightly taller then females with the average height being 180cm (~6 feet)
Hudde – A race of fast-reproducing humanoid insect from a tropical planet. Commonly employed as mercenaries trough out the galaxy. Height ranges depending on planet of origin, but originally their average height is 176cm (~5 feet, 10 inches).
Atuye – Human-like humanoids. The main difference is the "extra hair" that grows on the chests of males and at chest-height of the back of the females. Their hair color is also usually in the white-yellow-red specter with eye color being in the amber-red-brown range.
Ledd – Reptilian humanoids. Like war and violence so they are commonly seen as mercenaries, pirates and so on. Average 160cm in height (~5 feet, 4 inches)
Takl – Humanoids with cow-like features. The aggressive, violent males and calm, relaxed females counterbalance each other allowing the country to be a powerful force in all fields and one of the key contributors to the Galactic Peacekeepers. Females are usually 50cm (~20 inches) shorter then the males which average at 213cm (~7 feet, 1 inch)
Yrudian - Yrudians take many forms and have extremely varied sizes and shapes, trough they are share two main features - multiple tentacle-like limbs and being covered with a protective slime. For many millennia the Yrudians ruled the galaxy with an iron first until they were removed from power in the Great Galactic Revolution and retreated to their home land in the Magellanic Clouds. They haven't appeared for almost two millennia until the First Ynnes/Earth Incident.
Other
Nanographic – A 3D graphical representation made using nanobots
Nanoprojector – A device which stores and controls nanobots which are used for creating Nanographics
Uddre ANM I laser pistol – Know also only as a Uddre, a revolutionary laser pistol from Uddre Nanoweapons, which is 100% made out of nanomaterial allowing it to turn into seemingly harmless things like clothing. It even fools all but the most advanced nanobot examining devices, thus being a favorite of undercover agents. But it is expensive so it is hardly available to criminals or regular citizens
Guardian MkI A – The next-generation battle suit of the Peacekeepers, several times more powerful (and expensive) then any other suit in standardized use by any organization
Protector MkI A – The next-generation spacecraft of the Peacekeepers, able to tackle pretty much anything smaller then a destroyer on its own and in a one on one fight
Landcrawler/Crawler – A term for any tracked land vehicle, trough primary used for military tracked vehicles like tanks and APCs
Micro Black Hole Generator – An anti-planetary weapon of mass destruction and number one banned weapon by the Peacekeepers. Works by creating a black hole of small size, just enough to destroy the targeted planet/moon, using the vast amounts of energy that spaceships generate with that antimatter-matter power plants.
Of course the Major later chewed me out for losing the suit. Figures.
Morning
"Move it, shortstop." Laurel stumbled as she was shoved off the sidewalk and into the slush lining the gutters, the cold slurry splashing up and into her heavy boots. Looking up, she saw Beth and her cronies looking down at her. It was Beth herself who'd shoved her aside, hands shoved angrily into her pockets and glowering down at Laurel, her dark face and messy black hair a heavy contrast to the interchangeable tall pale blondeness of Cynthia, Sally H., and Godwyn, who were gathered cheerfully behind Beth. "People are trying to walk here."
"S-sorry," Laurel stammered, looking down at her boots.
"Y-you g-get that st-st-stammer from the thrift store too?" Cynthia - or maybe Sally H. - mocked cruelly. The other two cronies laughed, while Beth only continued to look down at Laurel, mouth working sourly and face unreadable.
"Sorry," Laurel repeated, quietly. "I'll, uh, w-watch where I'm going next t-time."
One of the blondes - Godwyn, perhaps - opened her mouth to make another jab, but Beth cut her off. "Yeah, whatever" she said, before giving a heavy yawn. "God, four o'clock and I'm still asleep. Can't believe I used to be a morning person. C'mon, let's grab some coffee or something."
As they walked off, Laurel heard them asking Beth about her brother, when he'd be back in town, and if he'd have new stuff ready for them when he did. Casually moving on and forgetting Laurel even existed. Sniffling, Laurel wiped her cold nose clean with a colder hand and sat down in a nearby doorway, despondent. She didn't know what she'd done to draw their hate. Her cousins had never been like that, and her parents had taught her to be kind to those around her. Yet high school seemed intent on throwing that back in her face, drowning her in cruelty and pettiness. She missed the peace and safety of being homeschooled. Of laughing and learning in equal parts alongside her family.
Laurel hunched down lower in the doorway, miserable. This wasn't how she'd thought school would go at all. She'd imagined late night study parties. Meeting close friends for life. Finding love, and kisses shared beneath a starry sky. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand once more, Laurel got to her feet and went to take the long route home, away from Beth and her cronies.
"Do you want to be something special?"
Laurel turned to see one of Beth's friends standing behind her. A small, quiet girl she'd never really paid attention to before, with wide blue eyes and a swirling cloud of almost white hair. "S-sorry," Laurel stammered, "what was that?"
"Do you want to be something special?" the girl repeated, oddly grave. "Do you want to travel between worlds? Help people?"
Laurel opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but the girls small hands shot out and enveloped her own. Her mouth shut with a jolt as the world seemed to flex for a moment, an afterimage of reality overlaying itself on top of the world, it's hue and saturation subtly wrong. She looked around in shock for a moment before the blonde girl caught her eye. And where the blonde girl's eyes had been, there was now only a gaping abyss. A glimpse into something wide and dark and unknowable. "Who- what are you?"
"You can call me Shy," the girl answered. "And I am something not quite real. Something from a dream. The Dream. Please, will you help? I need your help-"
"Shy!" Down the street, Beth was shoving past her friends, staring at Laurel and Shy. her face angry and yet also oddly afraid. "Shy, get back here! Leave her alone!"
Laurels hands clenched beneath Shy's cool grasp. She was sick of Beth, sick of being pushed around and looked down on. She wanted to be liked, to be someone important. "I-I want to be special," she whispered, voice hoarse with the need for it. "Please, let me h-help. I'll help."
Beth was only a few metres away now, her footsteps hurried and fists swingly tightly by her side. Her friends didn't even bother to look as she continued to shout, but Shy only smiled and stood, hands still clasping Laurel's. "Thank you," she said, and pulled Laurel forward into the abyss.
Dusk
Inside the Dream, it was cold and vast and dark, as it always was. Scenes and people and objects flowed and merged together, as transparent and false as afterimages. These were the worlds of the sleeping, a faint bridge between the real world and the Dream.
The Dream itself would not begin to take shape until it was acted upon, either by itself or by Laurel and Beth. They were the architects, their struggle giving form the formless.
For half a year Laurel had been keeping the Dream in check, cutting out its roots before it could drag itself into reality at the cost of those whose dreams bridged the gap. For half a year she'd spent her sleeping hours in here, and it still felt impossibly strange and alien to her.
Even stoic, private Beth admitted she felt the foreign oppressiveness of it weigh down on her, and she'd been fighting the Dream on her own for a year before Shy had first pulled Laurel in.
Reigning in her discomfort, Laurel began to give herself form, drawing upon the latent possibility around her to recreate her body. Looking inward, she recalled the feeling of air moving past her body. Faced her imperfections and humbly accepted her strengths. She didn't rush the process, remembering the misshapen messes she had created her first few times. Even after she had learned to make something that looked human, it was weeks before it had actually been her. Once she was finished, not even needing to look to know she had gotten it right, she raised her head and conjured clothes. Where the body was an act of patience and self-reflection, the clothes were an act of improvisation and desire. Light was drawn forth from the abyss and wrapped around her. Revelling in the myriad colours and possibilities represented in that light, she willed it spin around her faster and faster before letting it settle into something solid. An extravagant, weightless blue gown, stretching from the top of her neck down to the base of her feet.
Satisfied, Laurel raised her hand to the heavens and began to envision an arrow, its shape forming as light inside her forearm itself. She thought of it in movement, its speed and purpose, and it began to hum with tension, her entire arm tingling with its need to fly. With a grin, Laurel let go, and the arrow shot forth from the palm of her hand high into the black sky before bursting into violet light. For a few moments, there was only Laurel and the cascading light amidst the half-formed visions of the sleeping, then the space before her began to warp and out of it stepped Beth.
Where Laurel chose to dress herself like something from a fairy tale, all frills and lace and extravagance, Beth was far more simple in her choice of apparel. Dressed in simple, low-cut black clothes, with green highlights that traced her curves, she looked at once both more mature and more competent than Laurel. At first that had bothered Laurel, made her feel inferior, but over time she had come to understand they simply approached the same problems in different ways. Neither better nor worse than the other.
Beth laced her hands above her head and began to stretch, working out nonexistent kinks in her spine. "Ready to get started, then?"
Nodding, Laurel knelt down on the ground, gown billowing around her, and dug her fingers into the soft surface of the Dream. Slowly exhaling, she let her eyes close and consciousness expand outwards, searching for roots. With people's dreams so indistinct, it was nearly impossible to find where the Dream had planted its roots simply by looking. Beth's solution was to simply begin tearing at the foundation of the Dream, rending it asunder until she encountered resistance. Laurel, however, preferred a more patient approach. Letting herself slip and fade as far into the Dream as she dared until she could feel the pulse of it, find it's energy and trace it to its burgeoning saplings.
When she finally found a vein, she filled it with light to guide them to its end. Finished, she began withdraw when her mind brushed against another, weaker vein further out. Feeling uneasy, she marked it with light as well before fully pulling back into her imagined body. Above her, Beth was frowning out across the horizon.
"Which line is it?" she asked, looking between two slithering tendrils in the distance. One strong and bright, the other dull and faltering.
"B-both."
"Both? It's never grabbed two minds in one night before. Sure you're not imagining things?"
"I-I don't know, but I d-definitely felt two of them." Wringing her hands together, Laurel hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Y-you said there used to only be a few a week, right? Then one almost every night? And since I've st-started, there's only been a handful of empty nights."
Beth worked her mouth sourly. "The Dream's getting stronger, yeah. But now we're going to have to split up to deal with them both." Beth cursed quietly. "Fuck. Fine. I'll take the bright one."
"T-that's not going to, uh, work though."
"You've been at this long enough," Beth snapped, "don't tell you can't handle one night on your own."
"N-no," Laurel stammered, "that's not what I mean. If it's, y'know, getting stronger, we c-can't keep up with it forever."
"We don't have much choice," Beth retorted. "It's that or let it send our friends and family into comas as it tries to drag itself out of here."
Laurel swallowed, looking out at the two violet tendrils of light. Where they sunk into the boundary between the Dream and reality, and where they stretched back into the furthest unknown depths. "W-we could go for the source. St-stop it once and for all."
"Don't be an idiot," Beth said. "Even the roots put up a fight when we destroy them. Imagine what the source would be like." But even as she spoke, she too was looking out to where the veins of light disappeared in the distance, eyes hungry.
"W-we can do this," Laurel urged, "together."
"We can do this," Beth muttered, then looked at Laurel, something approaching a smile on her mouth. "Let's do it."
Afternoon
"What is it t-that the Dream wants?"
Shy looked up at Laurel confused. The two of them were sitting in Laurel's room, surrounded by stuffed animals and scattered dolls. Childs toys, but things that Laurel found comforting. From the radio on her desk, light rock played softly, and downstairs Laurel's cousins could be heard stomping around, getting ready for soccer practice. Shy looked Laurel over for a moment, then turned to the window. "Did Beth not say?"
"B-Beth doesn't, uh, t-talk to me much," Laurel admitted, "l-like, at all. I don't think she w-wants me around."
"Oh," Shy turned back to Laurel, head tilted and wide eyes both blue and empty at the same time. "It wants to be real. It wants to live and breath and grow, and is willing to drag others back into its prison in order to pull itself free."
"B-but you're a p-part of the Dream, right? And you're here. Uh, real."
"No," Shy stated quietly. "I am not. I am only real to you, and to Beth. Everyone else sees me, but even as they look at me, they forget me. Something at the edge of their awareness, slipping even as they try to focus on it."
"O-oh." Laura awkwardly began fidgeting with the hem of her dress, rubbing it between her fingers. "I'm, uh... I'm s-sorry?"
"It's not your doing." Shy leaned forward, and as she did, the sunlight filtered through the window became caught in that swirling cloud of hair. Refracted and multiplied into a soft halo around Shy's peaceful, cherub-like face. But even then, those wide eyes continued to bore into Laura, impenetrably deep and ancient. "Just know that as long as you and Beth continue to fight the Dream, you are doing the right thing. That is all I need of you."
Midnight
The veins of light had led them further into the Dream than they had ever been before. Above them, the uniform darkness had given way to swirling constellations of stars, pulsating bursts of light that refused to remain still. Sometimes they seemed impossibly distant, further than the furthest galaxies, and other times they seemed to hang heavy over Laurel's head, ready to fall upon her in a cascade of stardust. Beneath their feet, the veins of light had widened into paths, twisting and flowing through each other. Until, eventually, they came to rest at the base of a mighty tree. Every time Laurel blinked, it seemed to take a new shape; at once a willow and a pine, an oak and a birch. It's branches stretched far into the sky, waves of pale blue light coursing beneath the bark. It sparked and thrummed with energy, reminding Laurel of diagrams of nervous systems.
This far from the boundary between the Dream and reality, there were no afterimages of dreams. Only barren ground and bloated stars, shifting tree and writhing roots. When Laurel turned to Beth, fear and adrenaline holding her heart prisoner, she found Beth looking back at her, face dangerous and determined. There was a purpose to her, a sharp edge. Something that had always rested just beneath her skin, cutting and pressing forward in times of need. Now, in the heart of the Dream, those honed blades began to surface, forming as shards of green light swirling around Beth's hands.
With a small nod, Beth signalled for Laurel to back away before turning to face the tree. The shards grew sharper and brighter, increasingly deadly and chaotic as even more were pulled from the void to join the turmoil. The storm grew larger and larger until finally it coalesced into a single massive swarm, directed by Beth's guiding hands. With a shout, she let it loose, the shards cutting into the roots and base of the tree. There was a maddened shriek as the bark split and charred, cords of lightning arcing outwards and gouging rifts along the ground.
Hurriedly, Laura formed a protective bubble around her and Beth, the lightning coursing around it hungrily. The shriek of the wounded tree grew higher and higher in pitch, reaching far above the normal range of human hearing. But in the Dream, such limitations lost all meaning, and the sound continued to tear at Laurel's ears, sending her to her knees. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The last few sparks of electricity faded away, and the tree was still once more. Beth looked back to Laurel, confused, but Laurel had no answers for her.
They stood there for a moment, wondering if victory had been so easy, when the tree began to shudder. Pale, gnarled hands began to grow from the wounds left by the shards. Scrabbling, clutching hands that pulled themselves further out, dragging arms and bodies behind them. Dozens of them, one from each cut. When they stood, they were crooked and unsteady things, somewhere between a person and a dried piece of driftwood. Cracked and pale, stiff and hollow. They moved in jerks and bursts, hardly seeming to transition from one position to the next.
Without hesitation Beth darted forward, already summoning another cloud of green shards to swirl around her fists. Further back, Laurel gathered an arrow of light in her arm before shooting it out towards the furthest of the saprolings, piercing one through the chest before continuing onwards to remove the arm of another. The first collapsed, while the second changed course away from Beth and towards Laurel, apparently unhindered by the smoking stump left of its arm.. A few others nearby did the same, moving surprisingly fast with their jittering movements.
Raising a series of floating steps, Laurel hopped away from them, shooting arrows back down at them all the while. Beneath her, Beth danced amidst a crowd of saprolings, ducking beneath their blows and shredding apart those who lingered in her presence. But even as they were struck down, others stepped in to take their place, dangerous by sheer volume, and Beth was slowly forced backwards towards the tree.
Worried, and with the rest of those that had been hounding her struck down, Laurel lowered herself to the ground once more to steady her aim and began picking off those at the edge of the crowd, not wanting to risk hitting Beth by mistake. Together, they began to bring down the saprolings, though those that remained continued to back Beth towards the tree, trying to corner her. No matter how unpredictably she moved or how quickly she dodged, there was always another saproling there to throw itself in her way, regardless of it's own well being. Until at last, with only a handful of saprolings left, Beth went to step backwards only to find the tree at her back. Sensing victory, the saprolings latched onto her tight, forcing her wrists back, their wooden strength too much for Beth to overcome.
Panicking, Laurel readied another arrow and let loose, her aim dangerously close to Beth. With a burst of violet light, two of the saprolings fell back, leaving only one gripping Beth's wrist. It froze for only a moment before lunging to grab Beth's other wrist, but Beth was faster, whipping her hand around and shoving a green shard into the saproling's featureless face. It staggered back, clutching at the light, before toppling to the ground.
Sharing a sigh of relief, Laurel and Beth relaxed, the fight won. Around them the saprolings littered the ground, faintly smoking where the weapons of light had cut them. Some still twitched, defeated but not quite dead, long fingers scratching at the ground.
Beth looked up at Laurel and smiled for a moment, before confusion washed across her face and she looked down at her feett. Following her gaze, Laurel could see the roots of the tree slowly settling around Beth's ankles, holding them tight. The two looked back up at each other in horror, before fresh branches shot out of the trunk and latched onto to Beth, and began to drag her towards it's hungry mass.
Evening
"Why d-do you hang out with them?"
The two of them were sitting around Laurel's kitchen table, working on math homework. The sound of Laurel's father mowing the lawn gently wafted through the open window, while upstairs her mother could be heard softly singing in the shower. Beth, meanwhile, seemed barely conscious, stifling yet another yawn as she looked up. "With who?"
"Your c-" Laurel only just managed to stop herself before the word 'cronies' left her lips. "Friends. Cynthia, Sally H., Godwyn. T-them. You don't really seem like their type."
"Their type?" Beth asked warily. "What do you mean by that?"
"L-like, you're not... outgoing like they are. You don't obsess over makeup or g-gossip about boys or things like that. You're acad-demic and reclusive and... yeah."
"You have a really childish idea of what my friends are like," Beth muttered, scratching down another answer to her homework. "Is there something you're getting at, with this? Or just shitting on my social life?"
"W-well," Laurel shuffled some math handouts around as she gathered her thoughts, knowing she was on thin ice and about to step onto thinner. "You said you get them good deals on, uh, m-marijuana because of your brother, right? S-so, don't you worry that they just hang out with you for a ch-cheap high?"
Beth was silent for a moment, face inscrutable as she studied Laurel before answering. "Whatever. Not your problem."
"W-what?" Laurel leaned forward, face earnest. "I'm j-just, like, worried. That they're, you know, taking advantage of you. That they d-don't actually care about-"
"Of course they don't fucking care about me," Beth shouted, suddenly on her feet, knuckles white on the edge of the table. "You think I need some fucking princess like you to tell me that? I know they just put up with me to get deals from my brother. I've known since day fucking one. But what am I supposed to do, huh? They're the only ones who will hang out with someone like me, and it's a far sight better than nothing."
"I-I was just trying to help."
"I don't want your help," Beth answered hotly. "I don't need it. What do you know about any of this kind of thing anyway? Little miss perfect, with her doting parents and friendly cousins. Sharing laughs and smiles with everyone at school." Beth sat back down, head buried in her hands. "You don't even need to try to win people over. They just... like you," Beth snapped her fingers, "just like that."
Laurel yearned to reach out and rest a hand on Beth's shoulder. To lend a comforting touch. But even now, after months of sharing the Dream together, Laurel couldn't help but be afraid of Beth. Of her anger and insecurities. "I-I didn't win you over."
"No," Beth admitted, raising her head and letting her hands fall away, "you didn't." For a moment she looked as if she was going to say more, guilt and resentment both lurking beneath her dark eyes, before she turned away. "I need to leave if I want to have dinner ready for when my mom and dad get off work."
"Beth, I didn't m-mean to-"
"I dont want your pity, so please just... stop. I'll see you tonight."
Dawn
Slowly, inevitably, the grasping branches began to envelope Beth, pulling her into the tree's embrace. "Laurel!" she shouted, reaching out desperately with her free hand.
Stumbling over herself in her haste and darting around the twitching forms of the fallen saprolings, Laurel raced to Beth and grabbing the outstretched arm even as the branches began to pull it back. She dug her heels in the ground, trying to find the purchase needed to drag Beth free, but the tree was patient. Relentless. Its bark began to flow outwards and over Beth, making her a part of itself. Letting go with one hand, Laurel reached out behind her and summoned chains from the ground, ordered them to wrap around her and anchor her. To lash her and Beth's hands together. "I-I got you," Laurel stammered, straining. But even as she worked, the tree sent roots to entangle her chains, worked its implacable will against hers.
Slowly, Laurel felt Beth's wrist sliding out of her grip. "Please," Beth begged, as branches began to stretch up her neck. A pale and gnarled necklace, pulsing with energy. "Please." Laurel could feel Beth's conscious reaching out to her even as her grip weakened, and Laurel responded in kind, their minds coiling around each other, desperate for purchase. And in their opposites, began to bond. Like the teeth of a zipper, hope found fear. Self-pity found self-hatred; love found loneliness; forgiveness, bitterness; and idealism, realism. All their disparities came together into a unified need for acceptance; for each other. Laurel's violet aura met Beth's green, and the two merged into gold. A gold light that filled them with warmth and with comfort. That washed away their fear and laid to rest their doubts.
The tree began to writhe and shudder, the branches that held Beth catching aflame. Curling and turning ashen beneath the golden light, their hungry grip crumbled, and Beth tumbled out from the tree and into Laurel's waiting arms. Pieces of charred bark fell harmless from her skin. They clutched at each other, sobbing with relief, as above them the fire spread. Against the combined truth of all their pieces, their strengths and flaws, the falseness of the Dream was helpless. Clouds of blue and black ash flowed up into the void, blotting out the heavy stars. The branches cracked and twisted backwards upon themselves, sending thunderous shudders through the ground. And as the fire turned to an inferno, the entire tree began to collapse, folding inwards and downwards until all that was left was a hunched, smoldering form. A girl, with wide hurt eyes and a swirling cloud of sparks for hair.
Laurel looked on with horror as Shy straightened uneasily amidst the ash, coals burning beneath her flesh, skin peeling back from the heat. "I'm sorry," Shy gasped, sparks drifting from her mouth. "I'm sorry. I only wanted to be real." She took a tottering step forward, reaching out towards Laurel and Beth, blackening face twisted with envy. "I wanted... this," with every pained word her voice grew quieter, more strained. One finger from her outstretched hand fell to the ground and shattered, scattering coal and ash. "I wanted you. I wanted-" With her next step, her leg collapsed, sparks flung forward as her body tumbled to the ground and crumbled, leaving nothing but a dark mound and a cloud of soot.
Laurel clasped a hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to be sick. Beside her, Beth shuddered once before climbing to her feet. "We have to go," she muttered, half-dragging Laurel behind her. "We need to leave... this."
Nodding mutely, Laurel let herself be dragged alone. The two of them followed the tendrils of light back to the boundary, puffs of soot drifting from them with each step. Their skin was dark and coarse from it, their noses clogged with the smell of burnt wood and burnt flesh. Beneath, the golden light still glowed softly, strongest where Beth gripped Laurel with ferocious strength.
So weary was Laurel, that she didn't even notice when they reached the boundary, only looking up when Beth lowered her to her knees and forced her hands into the ground. "Let's go home," she said. "Let's go home."
Simona hated working night shifts. The small convenience store was bordering the outskirts of the town, too far for most public transport -- which meant the young clerk had to walk a few miles after dropping off the closest bus stop. Glen's Stop-By was a popular store for night owls, those who drove through the night between their town and the bigger city half a dozen miles away. They were usually two clerks at night, "just in case", but tonight Simona's coworker had called in sick and no one else had been able to take his place on such short notice. She wasn't too worried though, as things were nearly always quiet, and for all the night shifts she had worked, not once had there been enough commotion to warrant for two night shifters.
Winter was already closing up on them, and tonight was no exception. Glen's Stop-By was in the middle of a whirlwind of snow, with its buddy building Frankendiner, which was also still open, a few yards away. The owner's daughter, Ginny, came over once every couple nights to hang out with them and probably just to eat candy. Loyal to her habit, the little girl came dashing through the door, sounding the doorbell loudly.
"Simoooona!" The cheeky little pest grinned at the clerk, her two front teeth missing. Her boots were untied and her coat was already unzipped by the time Simona stepped out from behind the counter.
"Hey there Ginny! It's just me tonight, Petrov is sick." The woman's voice was gruff and deep, and didn't match her appearance at all. Ginny was probably the only person in the world who didn't think this was odd. "I brought the movie Princess Bride if you wanna watch something." A warm smile spread on the woman's tired face, even reaching her eyes.
The little girl clapped her hands and ran off to grab a chocolate milk bottle. Her father always paid her "tab" at the end of the week, something Simona thought was rather endearing. She pulled out her ratty laptop and pushed the DVD in, and within a few minutes Ginny was sitting comfortably on a case of soda cans, wrapped in a warm blanket. Simona sat next to her, before pulling the girl on her lap, and began brushing her hair. It was thick and black, resonating with the girl's African-American heritage, but the clerk had the delicacy and dexterity to properly braid it. Ginny's father was a widower, and he didn't often have the time to do those little things with his daughter -- especially since she was one of five siblings.
"Hey, Simona?" The girl's voice was quiet, as though she didn't want to disturb the people talking in the movie.
"Yeah?"
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Why do some customers call you "sir"? You're a girl!" The annoyance and indignation were crystal clear in her voice, which caused Simona to smile despite herself.
"Some people are mean, or don't understand those who are different. It's all right, you don't need to worry about me, little star." She fussed with her braids again, before slipping the small girl back on the boxes.
"Pfft! If they're meanies, I'll just pew pew them!" Ginny made a pouty face, but it didn't last long once she saw Simona giggling and shaking her head. Her shoulders untensed and with a playful shrug, she went back to the movie.
In truth, every time something like this happened, it etched a mark on Simona's confidence. She was a woman for fuck's sake and no one would ever be able to rob her of that. It hadn't come to her attention that Ginny had been aware of those comments, and in truth it tore her to know the kid was worried about her. Those were not matters for a child to be upset about, and once again Simona had after-thoughts about letting her hang out here in the backstore… But she couldn't bring herself to ever refuse to let the kid hang out here. All that was needed was a little bit more backbone, and perhaps a softer voice and a more delicate face… Simona shook her head. No, she couldn't let herself think like this.
For the next hour or so, while Ginny was laughing and watching one of the best movies ever, Simona cleaned up the store. First step was sweeping the floors (which felt quite futile considering how half of it was wet and dirty from the snow), followed by a good mopping. Those were her regular chores -- their manager had insisted she work mostly in the backstore, and do the majority of the cleaning. Sometimes the woman wondered if anyone else ever washed those damn floors; they were always so grimy, and spots she KNEW had been cleaned when her shift ended at 8 AM were somehow covered with badly wiped soda. She had an idea or two as to why this was happening, but she refused to give in to their torments.
The movie was over a bit before Simona finished washing the bathroom. She could hear the young girl repeat some of the catch phrases, and it made her grin again. The little pest was beyond adorable, and it warmed her heart to have the chance to spend time with her. She was any babysitter's dream.
"Simona, the movie's done! Can I play a game now?" Her braided head peeked out from the doorway, but she couldn't find the clerk right away. "Hide-and-seek then!!" She shouted with renewed pep in her step. Just as she got to the front of the store, the bell jingled and a pair of older men walked in. They looked like truckers, or maybe just fat mechanics, but they certainly didn't look like they were in a peppy mood like the young girl.
The taller man eyed the little black girl. "Where's yer dad, lil 'un?" He was slurring badly, and Ginny recognized the smell of liquor, or whatever it was they served at her dad's restaurant to older people. She took a step back and eyed the backstore.
"Um, my dad doesn't work here. Simona works here. SI-MO-NAAA!" She yelled for her friend, and just a few seconds later, the clerk popped out from the bathroom and made her way behind the counter. She ushered Ginny to follow her and smiled politely at the two drunk-looking men. "Welcome to Glen's Stop-By!"
"Hah! That's yer dad, innit?" The second man replied, and both of them laughed throatily and without reserve. Ginny frowned and looked up at Simona, expecting her to tell them off. But she couldn't – they were customers.
"Ha-ha, funny, sir. I'll be here if you need me." Her eyes nervously watched the inebriated men as they headed for the alcohol section. The clock reminded her they had about twenty minutes left before she had to lock down the booze.
Simona regretted her previous musings about how she didn't need a second clerk with her at night. Those men were terrifying her, and she had to think of little Ginny whose mouth wouldn't remain shut at the worst of times. "They're being meanies, Simona. I'm gonna have to pew pew them." The clerk shook her head and brought a finger to her lips, signaling Ginny to keep quiet. In return, a pout spread across her childish face, her dark eyes strangely focusing right through Simona. Those same dark eyes drifted away slowly in direct of the two men, who were still being loud and the taller one even broke a bottle, earning rocky laughter from his mate.
Five minutes before she would have to lock up the alcohol.
Okay, if they wanted an additional minute, she would not legally be allowed to sell them their booze. Hoping they would not berate her, the woman called out at them. "Um, sorry sir, county law says I have to stop alcohol sale in a minute. Let's pay those first and you can continue shopping after!" Her deep voice felt like a stranger's, entirely unrepresentative of what Simona looked and felt like. It was perhaps the most difficult aspect of her transition to accept, but there is was – the lady with a manly voice. Their raucous laughter reached the front of the store and soon enough they were dropping bottles and snacks on the counter.
"Yer a pretty lady. Gotta show later 'night?" More mocking laughs.
"Yeah, yer as hot as my wife! Ha ha ha!" The two men were laughing so hard, tears were peeking out from the corner of their eyes. Simona forced a smile and began scanning their items, looking down and towards Ginny once in a while. The girl had taken out her little plastic gun, and was muttering "Pew, pew, pew" which managed to warm the clerk even just a tiny bit.
"The total will be $40.50." The items were placed in bags rapidly but the men seemed to be lazing around with their payment.
"Y'know what tranny, I think we're good here. Sure you can pay this off for us."
"Yeah, what he said."
Ginny knew that was a bad word, a terrible word. Her father had explained what it meant, and that mean people used it to hurt a trans person. With a frown, she got up from her hiding spot behind the counter and pointed her pink gun at the impolite drunkards.
"That's a BAD word! Say you're sorry, mister!" Her voice was loud and unmistakably childish. The men peered over the counter at her and exploded in even more laughter. Simona's eyes widened and she tried to hush the girl back, trying to grab the toy gun away.
"Oh man, he even has a n***** daughter! Disgusting!"
Simona's cheeks turned bright red, but not because she felt embarrassed. She was fucking pissed now.
"Look sir, either give me the money you owe, or get the fuck out."
"Ohh look at him getting all pissy! He's a pussy a'ight!"
Ginny gritted her teeth and slipped between the older woman's arms to confront the two men. "SHUT UP! Pew pew!" She finger-gunned them angrily, her teeth baring and her other hand trying to reach for her toy gun.
The girl was picked up by Simona again and she pushed her away this time. "Get out or I call the cops."
"Fucking she-man, crossdresser piece of shit! Ha ha ha! With his black bastard daughter, playing mommy!" The taller man chuckled but handed out his money, while the other man kept laughing and holding his sides, as though he was having the greatest time of his life. "Ne'er comin' back here, unless it's to take a piece o'that little black bitch."
Before his friend could reply something else, Simona's fist met with his nose and everyone could hear the loud crunch. Blood splashed everywhere and the man yelled in pain, dropping his bags and clutching his face. The other one looked at Simona, and she could see how pissed off and slightly scared he was. "Fucking crazy bastard! Let's get out of here!"
"That'll be crazy bitch, thank you. If I ever see you here again, the gun won't be a pink toy!" She yelled back at them as they hurried out the door, leaving a trail of red on the freshly cleaned floor. "Fuck…" Simona shook her hand, the adrenaline probably taking care of her soon-to-bruise joints, and she looked at Ginny, preparing an apology. Kids shouldn't hear or see that kind of crap.
"L-look, Ginny, I'm so—"
"OH MY GOD! SIMONA! THAT WAS SO COOL! WOW!" Her face was erased from any kind of anger or fright, instead replaced with admiration and excitement. "YOU WERE SO BADASS!! OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE HIS FACE?!" The little girl was jumping up and down, clapping her hands madly.
"N-no, that was me losing my temper, Ginny. Grownups don't do that."
"YES they DO! Those men were meanies and you TAUGHT THEM GOOD!" Her smile was so sincere, so innocent, that Simona let her shoulders drop and she sighed, hands on her hips and shaking her head.
"We have a mess to clean up now. C'mon, little miss badass."
Remember, your vote is public and voting for your own entry will get you disqualified. Also make sure you've made up your mind before you click that button, because you can't go back and change it once you cast your vote.
To review, this month's theme is:
Write a story about a character based on one of the following tropes:
A. The Mystical Waif
B. The Naive Everygirl
C. Little Miss Badass
You may either play it straight and stick true to the archetype or give it a twist and subvert the trope.
And, as was the case last month, here are the prizes up for grabs:
MISC MANAGERS' PICK
One month of free Donator status complete with perks, a special victory ribbon under your avatar for a month, and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.
MISC COMMUNITY PICK
A special victory ribbon underneath your avatar for a month and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.
One month of free Donator status complete with perks, a special victory ribbon under your avatar for a month, and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.
MISC COMMUNITY PICK
A special victory ribbon underneath your avatar for a month and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.
This thread is where you, the community, will select your favorite! In the case of a tie in public voting, all parties with the most votes will be awarded the Community Pick prize. This thread is also where the Managers will announce their choice once judging and voting are over.
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Please make sure to read over the rules for voting and giving feedback before jumping on in.
Keep in mind that entries may contain graphic material. Only entries containing explicit sexual content will be marked NSFW. -
- All entries will be posted anonymously. Voters will need to make a selection based on the quality of the piece, not the name attached to it.
- There will be two winners for each month of MISC: the Community Pick that receives the most votes, and a Manager Pick that will be decided in secret by the MISC managers. Each will receive separate but similar prizes for their accomplishment. On the rare occasion that there is a physical or monetary prize for the month, it will be awarded along with the Manager's Pick to avoid any temptation to pull shenanigans with the votes.
- In the case of a tie in the public vote, each winner will receive the Community Pick prize package.
- People who have entered the contest can vote, but they can't vote for their own entry or it'll be disqualified. Show some love to your fellow writers or don't vote, whatever feels right to you. Votes will be public knowledge so we can keep track of this.
- You aren't allowed to tell anyone which entry is yours until AFTER the voting period is over. Doing anything to solicit votes is not allowed and will get you disqualified, and perhaps even banned from MISC altogether. Telling your friends "hey, I entered MISC this month, go read the entries and vote" is fine; telling people "go vote for #4, that's my entry" is not okay.
- Voters are highly encouraged to read through every entry before voting. We know we can't enforce this, but try to give everyone a chance before picking your favorite.
- The entry with the most votes at the end of the voting period will be declared the Community Pick for that month. However, if the community makes the same selection as the managers, then the second highest vote recipient will be named Community Pick; we don't intend to make the vote seem like it's playing second fiddle to our pick, it's just how it has to work so prize distribution makes sense when there are gift certificates or similar to be won, sorry! The winning entry will win fabulous prizes (fabulousness not guaranteed) and will win a permanent spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread for all eternity (or until Iwaku explodes).
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- Voters are highly encouraged to post in the voting thread to explain their choice. Full reviews or critiques of the entries are very welcome, but please keep any criticism constructive and civil. Telling someone that their spelling errors and odd word choice made it hard to read is fine, but telling them that they write like shit is not okay.
- Number/letter grades are also highly discouraged as they tend to be arbitrary and to vary widely in interpretation.
- If you would like, you may use the same rubric that the managers will be using, provided below. It's entirely optional; don't feel obliged.
MISC MANAGER'S RUBRIC
TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?
- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?
- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?
STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?
- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?
- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?
- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?
CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?
- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?
- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?
- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?
- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?
CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?
- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?
- Are there any subplots or underlying themes that you can identify?
- Has the writer used symbolism, metaphor, allegory, or subtext?
COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?
- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?
- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?
- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?
- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?
Without further ado, here are this month's entries!
Time and Time again
Her bare feet padded on the ground near silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise the forest made. Sighing, she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of flames, dancing, twirling and sharp and as deadly as a red hot blade.
When she woke in the bright morning light she grimaced and brushed unruly hair out of her face so she could see clearly, the bright silver strands always flew into her face from the breeze that danced through the forests. Looking to where the people had settled the night before she grimaced, they had long since left, the ashes of the fire would be cold to the touch and she didn't doubt she would be able to find them again if she truly wanted to.
Looking down at herself, she frowned, her feet were packed with mud and the stray leaves from above her had tangled themselves quite thoroughly into her hair. Picking out one of the still green leaves she starts to walk deeper into her forest. Quickly finding the almost invisible path she follows its winding whirling road to her home, a small hut, it wasn't large at all but it could house a few people if they didn't mind sleeping on benches or in wraps on the floor. As she opened the door, she smiled as Shiya yipped in greeting. The bright red fox raised her head somewhat tiredly though her eyes were alive with silent fire, Shiya tilted her head as she watched the silver haired girl soon she was turning back to her kits who were covered with her tail as they slept in the corner of the house away from any feet who strayed as they walked around the golden wood floor.
Darting to the back of the house where there was a small lake in which to clean herself the girl sighed, getting the heavily caked dirt off of her being. After bathing she walked back into the house where she dressed in a pale orange dress and tied her hair up in a loose braid. As she danced around her house cleaning any surface, she could find she sighed, a sad sound like someone who was breathing wrong to keep from crying, and jumped, startled as loud, insistent knocking banged on her door, the house tended to make the noises louder than they actually were and it would startle her every single time.
Walking over, she opened it and peered out to see the few people tiredly standing at her doorway "hello" greeted the girl who must have been knocking on the door "I'm Abell, I was wondering if you could possibly help us?" Abell spoke in a heavily accented voice, and she was looking to the people standing behind Abell, now more alert that the leader was speaking, she nodded.
"I'm Linna, it depends" Linna opened the door wider once her hands had stopped shaking "what do you need?" she spoke quickly looking up at the leader who was nearly two heads taller than her, though she was taller than most of the men there as well.
"A healer, we have many warriors, but we are quite useless without a guide and healer, we also need to know the way through the forest to the east side if you do not wish to come with us" she explained gesturing to the people behind her as Linna nodded.
"I will come with you, " she spoke quietly and with a forced smile "unless you need something else we could go now?" they all looked surprised as she stepped out and closed the door behind her without waiting for an answer.
"No we can go" and they set off with Linna leading the way and as they travel together. With the two of them leading days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Eventually they got to the destination, all with their fair share of scares and horrors only they had to see. "Let's do this" snarled Abell glaring at the too tall door and the cave it had once blocked before it was forced open.
"Be safe" reminded Linna, her knuckles white from holding too tightly onto the staff, she had gotten it from her mate as a gift not so long ago, and with a chase kiss and A echo of what she said they walked bravely into the cave. Suddenly the silence that was once overlaying the group was broken by the sound of metal on metal and it was so loud and overwhelming. The fires were brighter and the thing they fought were no longer men or woman and at the sight Linna backed away, casting as many and as powerful as she could manage spells.
But it was not enough, it never was, and as she watched them get stabbed and killed one by one tears rose in her eyes and only did they run when she saw the horrified face of her wife as she was cut through the middle by a rotting rusted sword.
Bare feet padded on the ground silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise. As she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of fire so bright it burns your eyes and she knows no matter how many times she returns she will always say yes.
Hated Fairytale of Tropes
Once upon a time, there was a guy. The guy's name was Everyman Smith, and Everyman hated everyone. They were all too stupid. In his average ordinary every day, he would see so many opportunities for something amazing just wasted away to nothing. A man born with incredible strength use it to become a farmer. An incredibly smart women became a good housewife. They had opportunities to become great heroes, or inventors and it was all wasted. People had no drive, no inspiration, and that especially applied to criminals.
Everyman wasn't inherently bad, but he couldn't count the number of plots he had formulated in his head to steal precious jewels, assassinate someone important or even conquer lands. Unfortunately for him, he didn't really have the skills to do any of that. He wasn't strong or quick. He was pretty smart, but his charisma was lacking. He had almost no affinity for magic. He trained hard to become a knight, but was never anything more than average. He had hoped that becoming a knight might give him a chance at something exciting, but as far as the kingdom was concerned absolutely nothing, no wars, no crazed wizards or rulers, even the chaotic dragon king Bahamut wasn't due for another thousand years. Knowing his bad luck, Everyman was happily reserved to hating everyone and their complacent propensities for the rest of his miserable life. His luck was about to change though.
Everyman had been sent on a mission to patrol a small farming village in the middle of nowhere. He was nearly through the seemingly endless fields that lined the road when he caught something in his peripheral vision. There was gal in a kimono running towards him and there was something following her. The longer he looked the more apparent it became that she was running from an axe wielding skeleton that was chasing her. He quickly took off from the road and darted through the field toward her. He drew his sword and readied his shield as the gap closed. She ran right into his arms. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to embrace her. He pushed her behind him and barely managed to shield off the skeletons axe. He swung his sword across his body and managed to cut off one of the skeleton's arms. The skeleton angrily swung into his shield again, knocking him sideways a bit. Everyman quickly swung again and this time made connection with the skeleton's head, knocking it clean off. The pile of bones crumbled to the ground in a jumbled mess.
He turned back towards the gal, who now sat on the ground with an almost confused look. She was a very pretty gal. Everyman thought she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. His moment of ogling might cost him his life though. Her expression of confusion turned to fear as Everyman turned to see a troll about to crush him beneath its heavy club. He shut his eyes in expectance of being flattened. He was quickly surprised when he wasn't. He looked up to see the troll's club hovering above him with a weird grey energy emanating from it. He didn't take his time to pierce his sword into the troll's chest and through its heart. With a painful roar, the troll reeled back with its club and crashed to the ground. Everyman wasn't in the clear yet though. About six more skeletons had followed the troll through the field. He prepared to face them, but he had no idea how he was going to survive this. That's when he started to feel funny. He noticed a grey glow around his body, similar to the one earlier. He moved to charge at the three skeletons off to the right, but he moved at blinding speed. Surprising even himself, he quickly reduced the three to piled masses. When looked back to the other three, he simply noticed all of their heads rolling off their shoulders before they crumbled to the ground.
The grey hue disappeared from Everyman as he returned to the gal. This time everything was clear, but both seemed equally in shock. She had remained sitting and the two stared at each other for a good minute before Everyman spoke up. "Umm, so, why were they chasing you?"
"..."
Maybe he was being too abrupt. She was just chased down by monsters. She still seemed a little in shock. Maybe he could make her feel more at ease. "My name is Everyman Smith. I'm a knight in the king's army and I just want to help you." The line was a little rehearsed, but it was one that typically garnered good responses.
"..."
He was starting to get puzzled now. Slightly wondering if she could even understand him or even speak herself. He had to figure out how to get something from her. "Do you know where you are from?"
"..."
Now he was just getting annoyed. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to get anything from her. He gave one last attempt before he resolved to just leave her. "Can you at least tell me your name?"
"... Waif... Waif Nadeshiko."
Everyman was about to leave her when she spoke up. "Oh. So, you do speak. Well Waif, do you need help?" He was pretty sure he already knew the answer as she was being chased by monsters, but he was hoping it would proc a more detailed explanation.
"Yes..."
His face quickly turned from eagerly awaiting an explanation to annoyed letdown. He merely turned around and headed back for the road again. Waif quickly jumped up to her feet and chased after him. "So, now you're just going to follow me?"
"Yes..."
Everyman rolled his eyes and was almost afraid to ask, "Why?"
"I need your help."
"With what?"
"..." The expression that went along with this silence spoke more than anything she could have said. She didn't look clueless so much anymore, as she seemed fearful now of whatever she needed help with.
"Sorry. Could I help if I followed you?" Waif merely shook her head side-to-side. "Why not?"
"They're too strong."
Everyman stopped walking and held the bridge of his nose. At least he knew there was a 'they' now. "Would it work if I got more help?"
"Yes!" She got very excited at this prospect.
He started walking again, but this time away from the village. "Ok, so we'll just go get some more knights, and then we'll take care of this monster problem of yours."
"No."
He stopped walking again, as he was still rather frustrated. "What? Well, how are we going to get help then? Are you suggesting we just find some random people and make a band or party?"
"Yes! We'll need diversity."
At least he was relieved he finally had a clear course of action, even if it seemed like a long shot. "Alright. Well, we still need to head back to the city." He continued forward, back along the path he just came from earlier. Waif followed close behind him and soon started walking alongside him.
Fortunately the farm village was rather close to the city, but it still took a couple of hours to walk between them. It was getting late by the time they made it back to the city. This was both good and bad for them. It meant they wouldn't be able to go anywhere tonight, but everyone was back from work and the bars should be packed with potential friends. He guided her through the darkening city, until they came to an establishment with a wooden sign reading 'Lusty Turtle' above the door. They entered to see a place that looked packed to the brim with people from all walks of life. "This is where I typically hang out when I've got time off. Go ahead and find us some seats and I'll get some drinks. Actually do you..? Never mind, I'll need two drinks if you don't drink anyways." He left for the bar, leaving Waif alone to find a table amongst the madness.
She quickly scanned the area looking for a good target. She quickly spotted an odd group of people sitting at a table in a nook in the wall. She maneuvered her way over to their table before introducing herself. "Excuse me, my name is Waif Nadeshiko and I was hoping my friend and I could sit with you." The group stopped their idle chatter and stared in amazement before one of the men spoke up.
"If your friend looks as good as you do, then certainly." The other man chuckled while the woman rolled her eyes at the comment.
"Unfortunately he does not, but he does have a proposition for you."
The woman of the group spoke up now. "Ooohh, he has a proposition. I like the sound of a proposition."
"I suppose I could give you some background information before he comes back."
After getting drinks, Everyman searched around for Waif, wondering what sort of trouble she might have been able to get herself into. It didn't take him long to find her, but he was surprised at what he saw. At first he was a little worried that she was getting herself into trouble, but now it looked like she was actually conversing with this group of thugs. He felt a little apprehension approaching them, even while Waif was there. He wasn't sure what to think of her sudden outspokenness. He ended up staring at like she had three eyes, which only made him look like the weirdo who openly and oddly stared at people. "Everyman, come here. I was just explaining some of our situation to these people."
"Uh huh." He walked up to them, and still stared at her rather awkwardly until the woman fixed him.
"Hey! Something wrong with her? She's got a pretty face, so I know there's nothing wrong with that."
"Ahh, sorry."
"You certainly are." Everyman was not amused with her quip.
"Everyman, this is Brute,..." The large man waved a couple fingers. "Elite,..." The woman nodded her head. "and Grunt." The other man gave a chuckle at his name. "I was just giving a brief explanation of our predicament."
"I don't even know our predicament."
"What are you stupid?" Elite pipped in to the conversation. "She was just telling us about how you saved her from those monsters that attacked her, while she was walking through a field. Don't interrupt or ruin a good story."
Everyman could only think about her randomly walking through a field wearing that. Maybe if she was from the village, but he knew the village pretty well and he didn't know her. She even had those powers, she practically saved him. He wondered why she was even running in the first place. It seemed these louts were believing her story, and as long as they joined, then he didn't care. "Yes, that's when I was able to stop the troll and give him enough time to stab it in the heart. Then I was able to boost him before stopping three of the skeletons. It's fortunate they have a weakness at their neck. By the time I turned around, he had already destroyed the skeletons and returned to my side." At least she was honest about everything.
"So, I'm guessing that's where your proposition comes in to play." Elite's comment was directed towards Everyman.
"... Yes." He was still catching up on things. It seemed Waif was moving them along rather quickly, when he didn't even know she had the ability to move on at all. He still didn't have the foggiest idea of where they were moving onto either. "We need your help to take them on."
"I'm assuming there will be good pay." Elite quickly questioned.
"Of course, we couldn't ask something like this without pay." He had absolutely nothing to give them, but she seemed to be full of surprises, so he might not be lying. This would make a very interesting band indeed. They were certainly diverse and seemed to fit the bill Waif needed.
There was a sudden change in the atmosphere as the earth began to shake. A great bell could be heard ringing from a high tower above the city. Faint screams could be heard growing louder outside. Grunt finally spoke up now. "It looks like we might be working sooner than expected." The group headed outside to investigate the happenings. A dark storm could be seen overtaking the city. Pillars of smoke with red hues at the bottom could be seen rising in the distance.
"It looks like your friends are here." Brute stated sarcastically. "The whole city is going to be busy with this."
"We need to run." Waif had a truly terrified face. "Come on hurry! We need to reach the West gate."
"What? That's... fine." Everyman was prepared to save the kingdom from the impending monsters. This was his chance to face a real threat, to fight real monsters. He could investigate this outbreak and follow it back to some evil overlord where he would finally vanquish him. Although, who was he kidding. With his skills and luck, he would die to the first wave of enemies, forever instilling his fate as a nobody. He was much better off riding this mystical train to whatever fate it may hold for him. Who knows? Maybe she was the ticket to finding the source of all this. The rest of the kingdom's army should be able to hold off without him.
The band took off and made it to the West gate, but alas they ran into some monsters. The storm had caught up with them and began to unleash a torrential downpour. There didn't appear to be too many monsters for now, just a couple of vampires and harpies. Everyman began to wonder where all of these monsters were coming from and who banded them together. Those questions didn't matter now though. The trio had already taken off ahead and immediately began fighting the incoming wave. "Get a load of those hooters!" Grunt exclaimed as he cut through a harpy. "Such a shame really."
"Grunt, I would probably kill you myself if you didn't do all of the menial jobs." Elite began to scold him. "I don't think I care if you grope these bitches though." She struggled to fend one off that was flying around her head. A vampire came up behind her and was about to pierce her with a dagger, when Brute cleaved him nearly in half.
"Why is everything work with you two? Can't we just kill everyone and go get a drink? Maybe even take a nap, a nice long nap." Brute complained as he continued to fight off and hack away at vampires. If it weren't for the logic he came up with that the harder he worked the sooner he could get back to bed, then he definitely would not be as strong or skilled as he was.
Elite finally managed to cut down the harpy. "I'm sure these guys will give you a long nap if you let them." The three had managed to cut a path toward a forest, but it was evident more monsters were still on their way and the wave they were facing now hadn't even been destroyed. Everyman hadn't even reacted yet and just stood next to Waif. She was already waving her hands in preparation to cast a spell. "Hey you two, get going. We'll be able to hold them here." Without second thought, Everyman saw to what she was referring, grabbed Waif's arm and began running through the hole they had created. Waif finished casting her spell as she was drug along. It was the same spell she used earlier to bolster Everyman, except now she cast it on the other three. "Very nice, you two better come back and bring our money with you. This isn't gonna be cheap." Everyman thought about how that had to be the shortest lifespan of a band ever. He didn't look back until they reached the tree line. He saw the three cutting down monsters of all sorts with the same skill he had used earlier. More knights and even some townsfolk began to join them in the defense against the frightful raid.
Even though they were in safe in the woods, he was ready to continue on the trek. "So which way do we go now?"
"We're headed in the right direction already. It's just that... it's a two day walk to get there."
"Are you kidding me? Well I guess we'll just keep going then. We'll need to find some sort of shelter for tonight though." The two continued walking through the soggy night for a couple more hours. They eventually found a big burly tree that provided just enough cover for them to get some poor rest. The next day's hike was probably the longest and worst hike he had ever been on, and part of his knight's training even consisted of going through what they called the 'Hell Hike'. It was obvious Waif was handling it worse than he was too. It was a constant uphill grade, which only got worse as they approached the mountains. Not much was said between the two. Neither of them really had anything to say. The deciduous forest slowly began to turn into a coniferous one. The precipitation never let up either and eventually it turned to snow. Everyman wasn't dressed to handle this weather and Waif most certainly wasn't dressed to handle the chill of the approaching night.
The second night was much harder for them. They managed to find some shelter, but after a long day of hiking with little food and water, they were already weak. Everyman was pretty sure he would be fine for the night, but as he laid down and watched Waif, it looked like she was struggling pretty hard. The constant wind and cold ground sucked every ounce of heat that it could from their bodies. As sad as she looked, constantly shivering, he knew that meant that she would survive, but when she suddenly stopped shivering, he got very worried. "Waif! Wake up! Are you ok?"
She quickly began shivering again. "Huh? Y-y-yeah, I-I'm f-fine."
"Yeah right, you're totally out of it." He quickly got up and took off his armor. He moved over to her and took off his shirt too. He reached around her and undid the band to her kimono.
"W-what are y-you d-d-d-doing?" She asked as he opened the robe, revealing her to him. She gave no resistance to his sudden advancement.
"If I don't do this you're going to die." He pulled her arms out of her sleeves and crossed her chest with them. Lastly he pulled his pants off, leaving him only in boxers. He laid down next to her and did his best to cover them up with the loose articles of clothing and armor. He slid into the robe with her and wrapped his arms around her. She continued to shiver for a while, but he wasn't concerned this time when she quickly fell asleep and stopped. He knew this was even safer for him too. Their shared body heat would help keep it trapped between them. Not to mention the extra body heat Everyman was giving off now that he was embracing a naked girl. With her breasts pressed against him, he couldn't help but grow erect. He felt really awkward when his member managed to make its way out through the slit in his boxers. He couldn't help but wonder why she wore nothing under her kimono, as his member began to press into her nether lips. The feeling was sensational, but it felt wrong on so many levels as well. His hips shifted a bit, rubbing her crotch, but aside from that, nothing else happened. In fact the contact subsided when he fell asleep a few minutes later and went limp.
Although as morning rolled around, he became erect in his sleep. Waif was the first one to wake up and was overrun with the feeling of this unwelcome intruder. "What are you doing?" She shouted as she shoved him out the robe and into the snow.
Everyman was still rather out of it, as he worked on waking up from his sleep. Being thrown into the snow was a rather quick and unwelcome wake up though. "Hey! I was saving your life, you ungrateful." Waif just stared at him with an un-approving look. The snow was still falling, so he quickly collected his stuff and began to don it. She quickly rewrapped her kimono and tied it off with the obi. When Everyman finished donning his armor they continued their cold, hard trek.
It was a few more hours filled with silence that was only broken by the whistling and howling wind before they could see the fortress that lied embedded into a mountain range. The fortress was as grand as any Everyman had ever seen, possibly more so. "There it is." Waif finally broke the silence. "We should be able to sneak in the castle since the armies are away. I would have liked a band, but they should be weakened now." She had a slight hope to her words.
"Are you kidding? We're weakened. We're starving, dehydrated, tired and nearly frozen to death. Do you even think we can win this?"
"... We have to try though."
"I thought so. I don't suppose we even have any choice now. This really is our only hope. It's the kingdom's only hope." He continued on and led the way to the gate of the castle. There were two minotaur guards at the main door, but Waif was able to guide them to a side entrance. His suspicions of her grew as her evident knowledge of the castle grew. They weaved through halls and maneuvered around guards until they came to a foyer holding a grand set of double doors at the other end. As they walked through them, they came to a man sitting in a grand throne.
"Oh, welcome. Have you come to give me your strength as well?" The man said with a grin as he stood up on his platform. He was rather tall and good looking at that. Everyman wanted to kill him already.
"Don't listen to anything he says. We need to finish him quickly before reinforcements arrive." A grey hue could already be seen forming around Everyman, giving him even more strength than before.
"Sounds good to me." He went charging at the man with all of his newfound strength. This was his moment. In one clean swoop he was going to eliminate this freak and become a hero. Everyone would know his name and adore him. He reared his sword back and struck with all his might. The man waved his hand and streak of purple light easily reflected his attack and threw him to the side. Everyman was shocked at how easily the man threw him to the side. His sword broke in half too. Waif had quickly prepared an attack, and a grey wall of force could be seen dispersing as it impacted with a purple barrier. Neither of their attacks proved to be very successful, but Everyman quickly got up and darted at the man again. He continued to easily parry all of Everyman's strikes though.
"Well this is rude, skipping introductions. Although I don't suppose we need to be introduced." He said as he looked over toward Waif. "Have you come to give me the rest of your power?" Everyman stopped his attack for a moment, trying to fill in the pieces of this puzzle.
"I want my power back Sorcerer."
"You know I prefer Overlord, and I'm afraid that's not going to happen. I'm afraid I'm going to need to keep these powers and gain more if I am going to enact my revenge on the King for rejecting me. The monsters should have pushed far enough to storm the castle by now. With this ability to absorb powers, I will make him regret removing me from his council."
"You know I need those powers to become queen of the witches. I'm not going to let you ruin my plans." Waif and Overlord were deadlocked with glares at each other.
"What on earth is going on?" Everyman was thoroughly lost and demanded an explanation.
With an almost annoyed look she glanced over to him. "I'm not your naive everygirl, I'm Waif Badass Nadeshiko and I'm going become queen."
"I am Sorcerer Overlord and I came across this ability to steal powers. I stole her ability to summon and control monsters and now I am going to enact my revenge. Why don't you just disappear now?" Overlord gave a wave of his hand a purple arc of power much greater than anything that had been displayed so far, flew towards Everyman. Overlord was certain in Everyman's demise, but something had changed about him.
"You both are morons!" He shouted as he plunged his broken sword through Overlord's back. The energy arc from earlier was merely deflected off of his shield. Overlord stood convulsing as purple energy could be seen coursing through the sword into Everyman. "I'm not your unlucky everydude either. I am Everyman Hero Smith and I am going to take your ability and power and put it to real use. You have a power unlike any other and you want something as petty as revenge. Well I'm going to fix everything. I'll be the hero everyone looks up too. I'm not just going to fight crime either. I'm going to become king, and not just of this kingdom, I'm going to rule every kingdom. I'm going to end wars and famine. Crime will be non-existent under my rule, and anyone who gets in my way can end up like you." Overlord fell dead to the ground with the sword still in his back. "I'm going to become the greatest man in history and everyone will remember my rule."
The grey hue had been removed from him altogether and was replaced by a purple one. "You don't know what you're doing. You can't even control that power." Waif created a grey whip-like force that emanated from her hands. With a quick flick, the force shot at Everyman. He quickly created a beam of energy that caught the force as it wrapped around it. He held it tight as Waif struggled to pull her whip back.
"Not yet, but I'll learn quickly. I'll also start my conquest with you. Really using a power like this to become the president of some social club is demeaning. You don't deserve this power. It would all go to waste in the hands of anyone but me." Waif wasn't able to free the force whip, instead she destroyed the force whip before enshrouding herself in a grey aura and creating two more in each hand.
"You know nothing about me. You're going to die and no one is ever going to know who you were, so bring it on." Everyman's blade grew longer and extended out both directions like a pole now.
Everyman quickly charged Waif as the buzzing sound of his energy and the humming sound of her force clashed to create thunderous cacophonies throughout the fortress. Orbs of energy and waves of force flew in every direction, either missing their mark or being deflected. The fortress began to take on heavy damage as the two continued to dart back and forth at each other at blinding speeds. Many walls crumbled due to loose blasts or one of their bodies being thrown through them. Their frustrations and hatred for each other grew wilder by the minute. Entire wings of the fortress looked like crumbled warzones from the aftermath of a grand scale battle. They both took heavy hits from the other as they continued to impale each other. All manner and shapes of purple energy and grey force were formed as they struggled for hours to end the other. Pure blind hatred filled them both as nothing else but the other's demise mattered. After several hours of intense fighting, their power began to dwindle. With the fortress left ruined in the wake of their destruction, they could be seen lying on the floor of a random bedroom that somehow managed to stay standing.
They lied head to head after collapsing from a simultaneous final strike from the other. Both nearly exhausted and struggling to even move, still managed to do their best to spite the other. Everyman continued to reach above his head and his long arm would punch her in the boob. Waif responded every time by reaching above her head and slapping him in the face. "I'm going to take your power. I'm going to... urk... put it to good use."
"You don't want to put my power to good use. You just... umph... want the world to see you. Like you said, you want everyone to know who you are and you're using this imperial rule to do that. Ow! Would you stop that?"
"Caw! Fine, how are you any better though?"
"Overlord was the moron. He had no patience and started too soon. That power was supposed to be mine and I wasn't just going to become queen. Once I became queen I would get access to more knowledge and power. I didn't just want to scare the kingdom. You saw how weak the monsters that attacked were. The kingdom probably drove them back. I wanted to cause chaos, and not just here in this kingdom or even this world. I wanted mayhem in all of them. No one would look down upon the queen when they were brought to their knees. If I had that power I wouldn't just be summoning vampires, I'd summon Dracula himself. Trolls compare to ants against the Ogdru Jahad. Beings like the Leviathan and Cthulhu bringing worlds to their knees, all under my control. That's what the power that... you stole to get your name known would bring me. All of the worlds... would be below... me."
Everyman had underestimated her. Her dream to bring the world to ruin didn't really sit well with him, but it was the villain he had been waiting to epically stop, but she never got the chance to start. She was right that his imperial rule would never create a nirvana. Most of the world would just see him as an evil overlord, even if they lived comfortably. Everyone wanted freedom and that came at a daily price. He noticed her words tailing off at the end. "Waif, are you... ok?"
"Huh, yeah,... I'm... fine." Waif's exhaustion had gotten the best of her, and she ended up passing out there on the floor.
"Yeah right... you're totally... out of it." Everyman's exhaustion did the same thing to him. Not but a few seconds later did he fall asleep, lying head to head with Waif.
The next day, Everyman did wake up significantly earlier than Waif. He was very sore from yesterday, but certainly felt much rejuvenation. His was strong enough to muster his ability and powers again. Seeing Waif still lying asleep on the ground, he got up and created another beam of energy. He held it centimeters above the center of her chest. With one easy plunge he could kill her and become the ruler of the world. Even if it wasn't a heroic thing to do, it was better than being the nobody he was. He couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason though. Was this everything he wanted? It wasn't him, and no matter how great it seemed, something told him it wasn't what he wanted. The beam's buzz ceased as it began to grow and bend, wrapping itself around her body. It continued to wrap around her body, until her arms were completely covered and pinned behind her back. The energy rope then shot down to her ankles and secured those together as well. It slid its way to a chandelier in the ceiling and began to hoist her upside down from her ankles. Her kimono slid up her body and barely left her decent where the rope was tied around her. Everyman released the energy rope to hold her there and sat at the foot of the bed in the room.
Barely a few minutes later, Waif began to wake up. She was confused when she saw an upside-down world through her blurry eyes. A few moments later her eyes adjusted, but she still saw everything upside-down. "What's going on?"
"I have you tied up. I need you to listen to something." Her senses were coming back to her more quickly. She realized she couldn't move as she felt the rope restricting her. She realized she was tied, hanging upside-down, before the one that she was trying to kill and was trying to kill her. A small twinge of embarrassment passed over her as she felt how far her robe had fallen as well. If he wanted to talk rather than kill her then she might as well listen. She wasn't really in any position to refuse him.
"Alright, I'm listening."
"What you said the other day was right, but I thought about what you said too. You don't care about chaos, you just don't want to be looked down on anymore. You have nothing planned for once you've brought the world to chaos and mayhem and you'll be filled with nothing once it has. I think I've thought of a middle ground. If you'll agree to this... then we're going to rule the underworld. I'll get to remove corruption and evil from the world by controlling it and you'll get to control it by being the corruption and evil of the world. We'll decide who gets to cause chaos and mayhem, and we'll destroy anyone that tries to hinder us. So, what do you say?"
Waif thought about it for a second and his offer did sound pretty appealing. He was probably right about bringing the world to ruin. There really wouldn't be any satisfaction in it. Once the worlds were brought to their knees, there would be no one else to crumble, but herself. "..."
"Ha, right, the way I see it, right now we're two of the most powerful people in the world. I'll go steal powers from the underworld and you'll become the witch's queen, and then we'll certainly be the two most powerful beings in existence."
"..."
"If you were wondering about how you would become the witch queen and how I would steal more powers, well I think last night pretty clearly displayed our true power is in our hatred. Therefore I think we should get married. How would you feel if I started calling you Waifu?"
"I would kill you."
"See! I can already feel your power rising." With that even Waif realized he was right. She strained against the rope again and blew it into dissipation. She quickly twisted and landed in a crouching position. She rose up to him and vigorously grabbed his crotch.
"Your offer is quite alluring. I suppose nobody really is perfect. Although, why would you say we should get married?"
He inhaled deeply and froze, barely managing to answer with a gasping voice. "How else would we be able to hate each other more?" A grin cracked across Waif's face as she tried to remain coy and let him go. He let out a hefty exhale as he caught his composure.
"Alright then Mr. Nobody, when do you plan on proposing to me?"
"Psh, I already told you we should get married while you were hanging upside-down. That should be good enough for you, Waifu." He turned his back on her and began walking out the room.
In an angry spout, Waif quickly created a force whip a lassoed his neck. As she jerked him back to her, he tried to catch himself but ended up sliding to her on his knees. "You know what? Why don't we try dating first? If we're going to hate each other, we should get the full experience. What do you think Nobody?"
Everyman gave a deep gulp. "Yeah. That sounds like a perfectly fine plan to me." Waif released the whip and walked out of the bedroom into the ruins. Everyman followed behind and stood next to her. The storm had cleared and the morning sun was just beginning to rise. The mountain peak they stood on gave a beautiful view of the kingdom and all its lands. "Wow! It's beautiful."
Waif leaned into him and he put his arm around her. "Are we ever allowed to love each other?"
"I think we'll have to if we're going to be able to reach the full capabilities of our hate. We'll just have to make sure we hate each other when we have someone to kill. We walk a fine line, my little Waifu."
"Somehow, I think we'll be fine, my big Nobody."
Their plan eventually did come to fruition. Everyman became King of the Underworld by amass an overwhelming amount of power and Waif went on to become the Witch Queen. They enlisted the help of Brute, Elite and Grunt as generals of the vast hordes that Waif summoned. After taking over the kingdom's underworld, they moved onto the world and eventually conquered multiple dimensions. They ruled together with an Iron Chaos, and lived hatefully ever after.
At least for a couple thousand years, until they came to love each other so much they could no longer hate each other. Then they were brutally overthrown and murdered, but that's life.
Once upon a time, there was a guy. The guy's name was Everyman Smith, and Everyman hated everyone. They were all too stupid. In his average ordinary every day, he would see so many opportunities for something amazing just wasted away to nothing. A man born with incredible strength use it to become a farmer. An incredibly smart women became a good housewife. They had opportunities to become great heroes, or inventors and it was all wasted. People had no drive, no inspiration, and that especially applied to criminals.
Everyman wasn't inherently bad, but he couldn't count the number of plots he had formulated in his head to steal precious jewels, assassinate someone important or even conquer lands. Unfortunately for him, he didn't really have the skills to do any of that. He wasn't strong or quick. He was pretty smart, but his charisma was lacking. He had almost no affinity for magic. He trained hard to become a knight, but was never anything more than average. He had hoped that becoming a knight might give him a chance at something exciting, but as far as the kingdom was concerned absolutely nothing, no wars, no crazed wizards or rulers, even the chaotic dragon king Bahamut wasn't due for another thousand years. Knowing his bad luck, Everyman was happily reserved to hating everyone and their complacent propensities for the rest of his miserable life. His luck was about to change though.
Everyman had been sent on a mission to patrol a small farming village in the middle of nowhere. He was nearly through the seemingly endless fields that lined the road when he caught something in his peripheral vision. There was gal in a kimono running towards him and there was something following her. The longer he looked the more apparent it became that she was running from an axe wielding skeleton that was chasing her. He quickly took off from the road and darted through the field toward her. He drew his sword and readied his shield as the gap closed. She ran right into his arms. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to embrace her. He pushed her behind him and barely managed to shield off the skeletons axe. He swung his sword across his body and managed to cut off one of the skeleton's arms. The skeleton angrily swung into his shield again, knocking him sideways a bit. Everyman quickly swung again and this time made connection with the skeleton's head, knocking it clean off. The pile of bones crumbled to the ground in a jumbled mess.
He turned back towards the gal, who now sat on the ground with an almost confused look. She was a very pretty gal. Everyman thought she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. His moment of ogling might cost him his life though. Her expression of confusion turned to fear as Everyman turned to see a troll about to crush him beneath its heavy club. He shut his eyes in expectance of being flattened. He was quickly surprised when he wasn't. He looked up to see the troll's club hovering above him with a weird grey energy emanating from it. He didn't take his time to pierce his sword into the troll's chest and through its heart. With a painful roar, the troll reeled back with its club and crashed to the ground. Everyman wasn't in the clear yet though. About six more skeletons had followed the troll through the field. He prepared to face them, but he had no idea how he was going to survive this. That's when he started to feel funny. He noticed a grey glow around his body, similar to the one earlier. He moved to charge at the three skeletons off to the right, but he moved at blinding speed. Surprising even himself, he quickly reduced the three to piled masses. When looked back to the other three, he simply noticed all of their heads rolling off their shoulders before they crumbled to the ground.
The grey hue disappeared from Everyman as he returned to the gal. This time everything was clear, but both seemed equally in shock. She had remained sitting and the two stared at each other for a good minute before Everyman spoke up. "Umm, so, why were they chasing you?"
"..."
Maybe he was being too abrupt. She was just chased down by monsters. She still seemed a little in shock. Maybe he could make her feel more at ease. "My name is Everyman Smith. I'm a knight in the king's army and I just want to help you." The line was a little rehearsed, but it was one that typically garnered good responses.
"..."
He was starting to get puzzled now. Slightly wondering if she could even understand him or even speak herself. He had to figure out how to get something from her. "Do you know where you are from?"
"..."
Now he was just getting annoyed. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to get anything from her. He gave one last attempt before he resolved to just leave her. "Can you at least tell me your name?"
"... Waif... Waif Nadeshiko."
Everyman was about to leave her when she spoke up. "Oh. So, you do speak. Well Waif, do you need help?" He was pretty sure he already knew the answer as she was being chased by monsters, but he was hoping it would proc a more detailed explanation.
"Yes..."
His face quickly turned from eagerly awaiting an explanation to annoyed letdown. He merely turned around and headed back for the road again. Waif quickly jumped up to her feet and chased after him. "So, now you're just going to follow me?"
"Yes..."
Everyman rolled his eyes and was almost afraid to ask, "Why?"
"I need your help."
"With what?"
"..." The expression that went along with this silence spoke more than anything she could have said. She didn't look clueless so much anymore, as she seemed fearful now of whatever she needed help with.
"Sorry. Could I help if I followed you?" Waif merely shook her head side-to-side. "Why not?"
"They're too strong."
Everyman stopped walking and held the bridge of his nose. At least he knew there was a 'they' now. "Would it work if I got more help?"
"Yes!" She got very excited at this prospect.
He started walking again, but this time away from the village. "Ok, so we'll just go get some more knights, and then we'll take care of this monster problem of yours."
"No."
He stopped walking again, as he was still rather frustrated. "What? Well, how are we going to get help then? Are you suggesting we just find some random people and make a band or party?"
"Yes! We'll need diversity."
At least he was relieved he finally had a clear course of action, even if it seemed like a long shot. "Alright. Well, we still need to head back to the city." He continued forward, back along the path he just came from earlier. Waif followed close behind him and soon started walking alongside him.
Fortunately the farm village was rather close to the city, but it still took a couple of hours to walk between them. It was getting late by the time they made it back to the city. This was both good and bad for them. It meant they wouldn't be able to go anywhere tonight, but everyone was back from work and the bars should be packed with potential friends. He guided her through the darkening city, until they came to an establishment with a wooden sign reading 'Lusty Turtle' above the door. They entered to see a place that looked packed to the brim with people from all walks of life. "This is where I typically hang out when I've got time off. Go ahead and find us some seats and I'll get some drinks. Actually do you..? Never mind, I'll need two drinks if you don't drink anyways." He left for the bar, leaving Waif alone to find a table amongst the madness.
She quickly scanned the area looking for a good target. She quickly spotted an odd group of people sitting at a table in a nook in the wall. She maneuvered her way over to their table before introducing herself. "Excuse me, my name is Waif Nadeshiko and I was hoping my friend and I could sit with you." The group stopped their idle chatter and stared in amazement before one of the men spoke up.
"If your friend looks as good as you do, then certainly." The other man chuckled while the woman rolled her eyes at the comment.
"Unfortunately he does not, but he does have a proposition for you."
The woman of the group spoke up now. "Ooohh, he has a proposition. I like the sound of a proposition."
"I suppose I could give you some background information before he comes back."
After getting drinks, Everyman searched around for Waif, wondering what sort of trouble she might have been able to get herself into. It didn't take him long to find her, but he was surprised at what he saw. At first he was a little worried that she was getting herself into trouble, but now it looked like she was actually conversing with this group of thugs. He felt a little apprehension approaching them, even while Waif was there. He wasn't sure what to think of her sudden outspokenness. He ended up staring at like she had three eyes, which only made him look like the weirdo who openly and oddly stared at people. "Everyman, come here. I was just explaining some of our situation to these people."
"Uh huh." He walked up to them, and still stared at her rather awkwardly until the woman fixed him.
"Hey! Something wrong with her? She's got a pretty face, so I know there's nothing wrong with that."
"Ahh, sorry."
"You certainly are." Everyman was not amused with her quip.
"Everyman, this is Brute,..." The large man waved a couple fingers. "Elite,..." The woman nodded her head. "and Grunt." The other man gave a chuckle at his name. "I was just giving a brief explanation of our predicament."
"I don't even know our predicament."
"What are you stupid?" Elite pipped in to the conversation. "She was just telling us about how you saved her from those monsters that attacked her, while she was walking through a field. Don't interrupt or ruin a good story."
Everyman could only think about her randomly walking through a field wearing that. Maybe if she was from the village, but he knew the village pretty well and he didn't know her. She even had those powers, she practically saved him. He wondered why she was even running in the first place. It seemed these louts were believing her story, and as long as they joined, then he didn't care. "Yes, that's when I was able to stop the troll and give him enough time to stab it in the heart. Then I was able to boost him before stopping three of the skeletons. It's fortunate they have a weakness at their neck. By the time I turned around, he had already destroyed the skeletons and returned to my side." At least she was honest about everything.
"So, I'm guessing that's where your proposition comes in to play." Elite's comment was directed towards Everyman.
"... Yes." He was still catching up on things. It seemed Waif was moving them along rather quickly, when he didn't even know she had the ability to move on at all. He still didn't have the foggiest idea of where they were moving onto either. "We need your help to take them on."
"I'm assuming there will be good pay." Elite quickly questioned.
"Of course, we couldn't ask something like this without pay." He had absolutely nothing to give them, but she seemed to be full of surprises, so he might not be lying. This would make a very interesting band indeed. They were certainly diverse and seemed to fit the bill Waif needed.
There was a sudden change in the atmosphere as the earth began to shake. A great bell could be heard ringing from a high tower above the city. Faint screams could be heard growing louder outside. Grunt finally spoke up now. "It looks like we might be working sooner than expected." The group headed outside to investigate the happenings. A dark storm could be seen overtaking the city. Pillars of smoke with red hues at the bottom could be seen rising in the distance.
"It looks like your friends are here." Brute stated sarcastically. "The whole city is going to be busy with this."
"We need to run." Waif had a truly terrified face. "Come on hurry! We need to reach the West gate."
"What? That's... fine." Everyman was prepared to save the kingdom from the impending monsters. This was his chance to face a real threat, to fight real monsters. He could investigate this outbreak and follow it back to some evil overlord where he would finally vanquish him. Although, who was he kidding. With his skills and luck, he would die to the first wave of enemies, forever instilling his fate as a nobody. He was much better off riding this mystical train to whatever fate it may hold for him. Who knows? Maybe she was the ticket to finding the source of all this. The rest of the kingdom's army should be able to hold off without him.
The band took off and made it to the West gate, but alas they ran into some monsters. The storm had caught up with them and began to unleash a torrential downpour. There didn't appear to be too many monsters for now, just a couple of vampires and harpies. Everyman began to wonder where all of these monsters were coming from and who banded them together. Those questions didn't matter now though. The trio had already taken off ahead and immediately began fighting the incoming wave. "Get a load of those hooters!" Grunt exclaimed as he cut through a harpy. "Such a shame really."
"Grunt, I would probably kill you myself if you didn't do all of the menial jobs." Elite began to scold him. "I don't think I care if you grope these bitches though." She struggled to fend one off that was flying around her head. A vampire came up behind her and was about to pierce her with a dagger, when Brute cleaved him nearly in half.
"Why is everything work with you two? Can't we just kill everyone and go get a drink? Maybe even take a nap, a nice long nap." Brute complained as he continued to fight off and hack away at vampires. If it weren't for the logic he came up with that the harder he worked the sooner he could get back to bed, then he definitely would not be as strong or skilled as he was.
Elite finally managed to cut down the harpy. "I'm sure these guys will give you a long nap if you let them." The three had managed to cut a path toward a forest, but it was evident more monsters were still on their way and the wave they were facing now hadn't even been destroyed. Everyman hadn't even reacted yet and just stood next to Waif. She was already waving her hands in preparation to cast a spell. "Hey you two, get going. We'll be able to hold them here." Without second thought, Everyman saw to what she was referring, grabbed Waif's arm and began running through the hole they had created. Waif finished casting her spell as she was drug along. It was the same spell she used earlier to bolster Everyman, except now she cast it on the other three. "Very nice, you two better come back and bring our money with you. This isn't gonna be cheap." Everyman thought about how that had to be the shortest lifespan of a band ever. He didn't look back until they reached the tree line. He saw the three cutting down monsters of all sorts with the same skill he had used earlier. More knights and even some townsfolk began to join them in the defense against the frightful raid.
Even though they were in safe in the woods, he was ready to continue on the trek. "So which way do we go now?"
"We're headed in the right direction already. It's just that... it's a two day walk to get there."
"Are you kidding me? Well I guess we'll just keep going then. We'll need to find some sort of shelter for tonight though." The two continued walking through the soggy night for a couple more hours. They eventually found a big burly tree that provided just enough cover for them to get some poor rest. The next day's hike was probably the longest and worst hike he had ever been on, and part of his knight's training even consisted of going through what they called the 'Hell Hike'. It was obvious Waif was handling it worse than he was too. It was a constant uphill grade, which only got worse as they approached the mountains. Not much was said between the two. Neither of them really had anything to say. The deciduous forest slowly began to turn into a coniferous one. The precipitation never let up either and eventually it turned to snow. Everyman wasn't dressed to handle this weather and Waif most certainly wasn't dressed to handle the chill of the approaching night.
The second night was much harder for them. They managed to find some shelter, but after a long day of hiking with little food and water, they were already weak. Everyman was pretty sure he would be fine for the night, but as he laid down and watched Waif, it looked like she was struggling pretty hard. The constant wind and cold ground sucked every ounce of heat that it could from their bodies. As sad as she looked, constantly shivering, he knew that meant that she would survive, but when she suddenly stopped shivering, he got very worried. "Waif! Wake up! Are you ok?"
She quickly began shivering again. "Huh? Y-y-yeah, I-I'm f-fine."
"Yeah right, you're totally out of it." He quickly got up and took off his armor. He moved over to her and took off his shirt too. He reached around her and undid the band to her kimono.
"W-what are y-you d-d-d-doing?" She asked as he opened the robe, revealing her to him. She gave no resistance to his sudden advancement.
"If I don't do this you're going to die." He pulled her arms out of her sleeves and crossed her chest with them. Lastly he pulled his pants off, leaving him only in boxers. He laid down next to her and did his best to cover them up with the loose articles of clothing and armor. He slid into the robe with her and wrapped his arms around her. She continued to shiver for a while, but he wasn't concerned this time when she quickly fell asleep and stopped. He knew this was even safer for him too. Their shared body heat would help keep it trapped between them. Not to mention the extra body heat Everyman was giving off now that he was embracing a naked girl. With her breasts pressed against him, he couldn't help but grow erect. He felt really awkward when his member managed to make its way out through the slit in his boxers. He couldn't help but wonder why she wore nothing under her kimono, as his member began to press into her nether lips. The feeling was sensational, but it felt wrong on so many levels as well. His hips shifted a bit, rubbing her crotch, but aside from that, nothing else happened. In fact the contact subsided when he fell asleep a few minutes later and went limp.
Although as morning rolled around, he became erect in his sleep. Waif was the first one to wake up and was overrun with the feeling of this unwelcome intruder. "What are you doing?" She shouted as she shoved him out the robe and into the snow.
Everyman was still rather out of it, as he worked on waking up from his sleep. Being thrown into the snow was a rather quick and unwelcome wake up though. "Hey! I was saving your life, you ungrateful." Waif just stared at him with an un-approving look. The snow was still falling, so he quickly collected his stuff and began to don it. She quickly rewrapped her kimono and tied it off with the obi. When Everyman finished donning his armor they continued their cold, hard trek.
It was a few more hours filled with silence that was only broken by the whistling and howling wind before they could see the fortress that lied embedded into a mountain range. The fortress was as grand as any Everyman had ever seen, possibly more so. "There it is." Waif finally broke the silence. "We should be able to sneak in the castle since the armies are away. I would have liked a band, but they should be weakened now." She had a slight hope to her words.
"Are you kidding? We're weakened. We're starving, dehydrated, tired and nearly frozen to death. Do you even think we can win this?"
"... We have to try though."
"I thought so. I don't suppose we even have any choice now. This really is our only hope. It's the kingdom's only hope." He continued on and led the way to the gate of the castle. There were two minotaur guards at the main door, but Waif was able to guide them to a side entrance. His suspicions of her grew as her evident knowledge of the castle grew. They weaved through halls and maneuvered around guards until they came to a foyer holding a grand set of double doors at the other end. As they walked through them, they came to a man sitting in a grand throne.
"Oh, welcome. Have you come to give me your strength as well?" The man said with a grin as he stood up on his platform. He was rather tall and good looking at that. Everyman wanted to kill him already.
"Don't listen to anything he says. We need to finish him quickly before reinforcements arrive." A grey hue could already be seen forming around Everyman, giving him even more strength than before.
"Sounds good to me." He went charging at the man with all of his newfound strength. This was his moment. In one clean swoop he was going to eliminate this freak and become a hero. Everyone would know his name and adore him. He reared his sword back and struck with all his might. The man waved his hand and streak of purple light easily reflected his attack and threw him to the side. Everyman was shocked at how easily the man threw him to the side. His sword broke in half too. Waif had quickly prepared an attack, and a grey wall of force could be seen dispersing as it impacted with a purple barrier. Neither of their attacks proved to be very successful, but Everyman quickly got up and darted at the man again. He continued to easily parry all of Everyman's strikes though.
"Well this is rude, skipping introductions. Although I don't suppose we need to be introduced." He said as he looked over toward Waif. "Have you come to give me the rest of your power?" Everyman stopped his attack for a moment, trying to fill in the pieces of this puzzle.
"I want my power back Sorcerer."
"You know I prefer Overlord, and I'm afraid that's not going to happen. I'm afraid I'm going to need to keep these powers and gain more if I am going to enact my revenge on the King for rejecting me. The monsters should have pushed far enough to storm the castle by now. With this ability to absorb powers, I will make him regret removing me from his council."
"You know I need those powers to become queen of the witches. I'm not going to let you ruin my plans." Waif and Overlord were deadlocked with glares at each other.
"What on earth is going on?" Everyman was thoroughly lost and demanded an explanation.
With an almost annoyed look she glanced over to him. "I'm not your naive everygirl, I'm Waif Badass Nadeshiko and I'm going become queen."
"I am Sorcerer Overlord and I came across this ability to steal powers. I stole her ability to summon and control monsters and now I am going to enact my revenge. Why don't you just disappear now?" Overlord gave a wave of his hand a purple arc of power much greater than anything that had been displayed so far, flew towards Everyman. Overlord was certain in Everyman's demise, but something had changed about him.
"You both are morons!" He shouted as he plunged his broken sword through Overlord's back. The energy arc from earlier was merely deflected off of his shield. Overlord stood convulsing as purple energy could be seen coursing through the sword into Everyman. "I'm not your unlucky everydude either. I am Everyman Hero Smith and I am going to take your ability and power and put it to real use. You have a power unlike any other and you want something as petty as revenge. Well I'm going to fix everything. I'll be the hero everyone looks up too. I'm not just going to fight crime either. I'm going to become king, and not just of this kingdom, I'm going to rule every kingdom. I'm going to end wars and famine. Crime will be non-existent under my rule, and anyone who gets in my way can end up like you." Overlord fell dead to the ground with the sword still in his back. "I'm going to become the greatest man in history and everyone will remember my rule."
The grey hue had been removed from him altogether and was replaced by a purple one. "You don't know what you're doing. You can't even control that power." Waif created a grey whip-like force that emanated from her hands. With a quick flick, the force shot at Everyman. He quickly created a beam of energy that caught the force as it wrapped around it. He held it tight as Waif struggled to pull her whip back.
"Not yet, but I'll learn quickly. I'll also start my conquest with you. Really using a power like this to become the president of some social club is demeaning. You don't deserve this power. It would all go to waste in the hands of anyone but me." Waif wasn't able to free the force whip, instead she destroyed the force whip before enshrouding herself in a grey aura and creating two more in each hand.
"You know nothing about me. You're going to die and no one is ever going to know who you were, so bring it on." Everyman's blade grew longer and extended out both directions like a pole now.
Everyman quickly charged Waif as the buzzing sound of his energy and the humming sound of her force clashed to create thunderous cacophonies throughout the fortress. Orbs of energy and waves of force flew in every direction, either missing their mark or being deflected. The fortress began to take on heavy damage as the two continued to dart back and forth at each other at blinding speeds. Many walls crumbled due to loose blasts or one of their bodies being thrown through them. Their frustrations and hatred for each other grew wilder by the minute. Entire wings of the fortress looked like crumbled warzones from the aftermath of a grand scale battle. They both took heavy hits from the other as they continued to impale each other. All manner and shapes of purple energy and grey force were formed as they struggled for hours to end the other. Pure blind hatred filled them both as nothing else but the other's demise mattered. After several hours of intense fighting, their power began to dwindle. With the fortress left ruined in the wake of their destruction, they could be seen lying on the floor of a random bedroom that somehow managed to stay standing.
They lied head to head after collapsing from a simultaneous final strike from the other. Both nearly exhausted and struggling to even move, still managed to do their best to spite the other. Everyman continued to reach above his head and his long arm would punch her in the boob. Waif responded every time by reaching above her head and slapping him in the face. "I'm going to take your power. I'm going to... urk... put it to good use."
"You don't want to put my power to good use. You just... umph... want the world to see you. Like you said, you want everyone to know who you are and you're using this imperial rule to do that. Ow! Would you stop that?"
"Caw! Fine, how are you any better though?"
"Overlord was the moron. He had no patience and started too soon. That power was supposed to be mine and I wasn't just going to become queen. Once I became queen I would get access to more knowledge and power. I didn't just want to scare the kingdom. You saw how weak the monsters that attacked were. The kingdom probably drove them back. I wanted to cause chaos, and not just here in this kingdom or even this world. I wanted mayhem in all of them. No one would look down upon the queen when they were brought to their knees. If I had that power I wouldn't just be summoning vampires, I'd summon Dracula himself. Trolls compare to ants against the Ogdru Jahad. Beings like the Leviathan and Cthulhu bringing worlds to their knees, all under my control. That's what the power that... you stole to get your name known would bring me. All of the worlds... would be below... me."
Everyman had underestimated her. Her dream to bring the world to ruin didn't really sit well with him, but it was the villain he had been waiting to epically stop, but she never got the chance to start. She was right that his imperial rule would never create a nirvana. Most of the world would just see him as an evil overlord, even if they lived comfortably. Everyone wanted freedom and that came at a daily price. He noticed her words tailing off at the end. "Waif, are you... ok?"
"Huh, yeah,... I'm... fine." Waif's exhaustion had gotten the best of her, and she ended up passing out there on the floor.
"Yeah right... you're totally... out of it." Everyman's exhaustion did the same thing to him. Not but a few seconds later did he fall asleep, lying head to head with Waif.
The next day, Everyman did wake up significantly earlier than Waif. He was very sore from yesterday, but certainly felt much rejuvenation. His was strong enough to muster his ability and powers again. Seeing Waif still lying asleep on the ground, he got up and created another beam of energy. He held it centimeters above the center of her chest. With one easy plunge he could kill her and become the ruler of the world. Even if it wasn't a heroic thing to do, it was better than being the nobody he was. He couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason though. Was this everything he wanted? It wasn't him, and no matter how great it seemed, something told him it wasn't what he wanted. The beam's buzz ceased as it began to grow and bend, wrapping itself around her body. It continued to wrap around her body, until her arms were completely covered and pinned behind her back. The energy rope then shot down to her ankles and secured those together as well. It slid its way to a chandelier in the ceiling and began to hoist her upside down from her ankles. Her kimono slid up her body and barely left her decent where the rope was tied around her. Everyman released the energy rope to hold her there and sat at the foot of the bed in the room.
Barely a few minutes later, Waif began to wake up. She was confused when she saw an upside-down world through her blurry eyes. A few moments later her eyes adjusted, but she still saw everything upside-down. "What's going on?"
"I have you tied up. I need you to listen to something." Her senses were coming back to her more quickly. She realized she couldn't move as she felt the rope restricting her. She realized she was tied, hanging upside-down, before the one that she was trying to kill and was trying to kill her. A small twinge of embarrassment passed over her as she felt how far her robe had fallen as well. If he wanted to talk rather than kill her then she might as well listen. She wasn't really in any position to refuse him.
"Alright, I'm listening."
"What you said the other day was right, but I thought about what you said too. You don't care about chaos, you just don't want to be looked down on anymore. You have nothing planned for once you've brought the world to chaos and mayhem and you'll be filled with nothing once it has. I think I've thought of a middle ground. If you'll agree to this... then we're going to rule the underworld. I'll get to remove corruption and evil from the world by controlling it and you'll get to control it by being the corruption and evil of the world. We'll decide who gets to cause chaos and mayhem, and we'll destroy anyone that tries to hinder us. So, what do you say?"
Waif thought about it for a second and his offer did sound pretty appealing. He was probably right about bringing the world to ruin. There really wouldn't be any satisfaction in it. Once the worlds were brought to their knees, there would be no one else to crumble, but herself. "..."
"Ha, right, the way I see it, right now we're two of the most powerful people in the world. I'll go steal powers from the underworld and you'll become the witch's queen, and then we'll certainly be the two most powerful beings in existence."
"..."
"If you were wondering about how you would become the witch queen and how I would steal more powers, well I think last night pretty clearly displayed our true power is in our hatred. Therefore I think we should get married. How would you feel if I started calling you Waifu?"
"I would kill you."
"See! I can already feel your power rising." With that even Waif realized he was right. She strained against the rope again and blew it into dissipation. She quickly twisted and landed in a crouching position. She rose up to him and vigorously grabbed his crotch.
"Your offer is quite alluring. I suppose nobody really is perfect. Although, why would you say we should get married?"
He inhaled deeply and froze, barely managing to answer with a gasping voice. "How else would we be able to hate each other more?" A grin cracked across Waif's face as she tried to remain coy and let him go. He let out a hefty exhale as he caught his composure.
"Alright then Mr. Nobody, when do you plan on proposing to me?"
"Psh, I already told you we should get married while you were hanging upside-down. That should be good enough for you, Waifu." He turned his back on her and began walking out the room.
In an angry spout, Waif quickly created a force whip a lassoed his neck. As she jerked him back to her, he tried to catch himself but ended up sliding to her on his knees. "You know what? Why don't we try dating first? If we're going to hate each other, we should get the full experience. What do you think Nobody?"
Everyman gave a deep gulp. "Yeah. That sounds like a perfectly fine plan to me." Waif released the whip and walked out of the bedroom into the ruins. Everyman followed behind and stood next to her. The storm had cleared and the morning sun was just beginning to rise. The mountain peak they stood on gave a beautiful view of the kingdom and all its lands. "Wow! It's beautiful."
Waif leaned into him and he put his arm around her. "Are we ever allowed to love each other?"
"I think we'll have to if we're going to be able to reach the full capabilities of our hate. We'll just have to make sure we hate each other when we have someone to kill. We walk a fine line, my little Waifu."
"Somehow, I think we'll be fine, my big Nobody."
Their plan eventually did come to fruition. Everyman became King of the Underworld by amass an overwhelming amount of power and Waif went on to become the Witch Queen. They enlisted the help of Brute, Elite and Grunt as generals of the vast hordes that Waif summoned. After taking over the kingdom's underworld, they moved onto the world and eventually conquered multiple dimensions. They ruled together with an Iron Chaos, and lived hatefully ever after.
At least for a couple thousand years, until they came to love each other so much they could no longer hate each other. Then they were brutally overthrown and murdered, but that's life.
Shakespeare would be embarrassed
The curtain calls, and it calls for me. My name is Xera. As I bow with my left hand on my chest, and the other stretched out to my right, I must declare that it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am a doll of the entertainment variety. I go up onto a stage every night, because the overlords have a contract with my signature on it. You do not disregard your contract. Once I enjoyed it, thoroughly loved every aspect from the characters that I get to play to the clothes, the script, and the scenery. Now though, well, let's just say it's lost the charm it had.
"I know what I am doing," my younger partner scoffs, ignoring the director's instructions for the seventh time today. She's another doll. "I have it in my blood. I'm the talent here, for now, until the fools at the academy catches onto what a brilliant star you've captured. Then it's bye, bye!"
She is the main reason I can't stand it here any more. A twenty-year-old blonde, pretty, and full of herself. She may be what the audience wants, but the rest of us have to deal with her too.
"Fine, go ahead, do whatever you want!" the director exclaims, shocking both of us. "I have had it with your fancies, and your fickleness. If you think you can do it without me, then I'm not going to stop you, bitch."
He storms off, throwing the nearest door open, and slamming it behind himself. Good thing the audience can't hear anything that goes on beyond the confines of the stage, or a scandal might tarnish our reputation. The director is sensible enough that he will retreat to his room for the night, yet it leaves us without anyone to guide us through what we need to do.
"I guess that means there won't be any show tonight," she mutters to herself. "Unless an old veteran like you knows some scripts by heart, eh, Xera?"
"No, I do not," I lie. I know most of the scripts the director has written. I've written a couple myself, but they were never performed before. "I don't think you want to cancel the show either, if you want to keep your fans happy, Yolene"
"Ah, haha, yes. There is that. The poor saps won't make it through the day if they don't get to experience my talent," she slides her hand through her hair. "I shouldn't disappoint them, so what do we do?"
"I dunno."
"Hmm, how about I go up into the director's chair to control everything, while you play my main cast? I can show up at the end, dazzling them with my radiance, and my newfound talent in directing!"
"Um, no," I say, about ready to storm off like the director did. "I'm going to decline."
"Don't you have a contract to obey, just like me? If someone can put on a show, then you're obliged to be on stage. I'm saving us both here. What happens if we don't perform, hmm?" she asks, smiling at me, and touching my shoulder with the tips of three of her fingers. "Do it for me. I'm sure I can think of some reward."
"I'm not into women, or men." I take a step backwards, so she can't touch me.
"Me neither, yet here we are, and it sounds like you're turning down the star of the show."
She's going to be even worse after this, if I don't do as she wishes, isn't she? I have more to lose on walking away than I have on sticking around. It wouldn't be the first horrible show I've had to put on. I just hate playing multiple characters. There's little appeal for me when I'm going up against myself. Not that Yolene is much of a co-star, or opponent, and considering how in love with herself she should be the one playing multiple characters.
"So, what's it going to be, Xera?" Yolene asks, moving closer to me despite my withdrawal. "Are you going to run and hide like mister director?"
"...No." What am I saying? "No, I can do this favour for you. On the condition that you do one for me afterwards, which I don't have to reveal until we're finished."
"Hah, clever," she taps her index finger against her lower lip, as if she's pondering. I've seen her do it before. She's going to agree to my terms. "I accept. Now get your butt up on the stage, and wait for my signal."
I sigh, deeply, then stretch my arms and my legs. Yolene scampers off. If I know her, and unfortunately I do, it's going to take more effort than usual for me to be able to keep up with her directions. Does she even have a script prepared?
I walk towards the stage, and run up the small set of stairs. The deafening cheers that greet me seem odd. It was like that for me once, but it's been years since my stardom. I hold my hand out in front of me, and Yolene has already superimposed someone else's appearance on mine. She's fast.
My consciousness splits into halves, with one half remaining in the first character, and the other transferring into a second character entering the stage from the opposite side. It comes natural to me, albeit painful, but newcomers struggle with it.
The first character is a young girl with a ponytail, dressed in a pink outfit. She's got a medium backpack slung over her arm, and an innocent expression on her face. The second character is another young girl, except this one is unorthodox… She wears a leather jacket, with matching sunglasses, but why does she have a massive rifle strapped to her back? How is it believable that she can carry it without toppling under its weight?
As I control both of the girls, I walk them up to the front of the stage, and have them grab each other's hands. It's a strange sensation to grab what your mind recognizes as your own hand, even though it's attached to another body. The girls bow for their audience, before they all disappear when Yolene brings me into the scenario she's created.
My vision blurs, and my split mind collides with itself, going in and out. There's a vortex of strange colours and sounds, then it shapes into the two girls for the first scene. It's supposed to alleviate the strain on my brain, but it can be disorienting enough that experienced veterans like myself throw up. Our overlords should fix it, for everyone's sake.
The girls arrive at a crossroads in a forest, at night. Fireflies light up the path to their right, and a distant torch is on the path to the left among thorny branches. I get my instructions for each character, in a holographic prompter that pops up. Only I can see it in this instance of the play, and I don't like what I'm reading. I realize Yolene has had practically no time to prepare any of this, unless she's been practising script writing in secret, but the instructions suggests she's got close to no idea about how it's supposed to work. We're beginning in the middle of the story, for some inexplicable reason.
Sighing, I resign myself to my fate. I set my foot on the stage tonight, so I will displease my overlords if I do not perform. I might have gotten away with it after the director stormed off, but the audience is waiting for a show now.
"Oh no, what are we going to do, Anne? We can't get separated in a forest like this! It's already dark, and I'm… I'm…" I stammer, as the girl with the sunglasses and rifle, while her legs shake. "I didn't bring food for us if we get lost. How are we going to find Clara in here?"
"Tsk, don't sweat it, Beth. I've been in worse scenarios than this. Did I ever tell you about that time I took on an army by myself?" I say, as the girl with the ponytail, and she pats her pink backpack. "I've got everything we need right here."
"But… but… Clara," Beth stammers. "She's going to need all the help she can get. We should return to the city, gather everyone we can, so that we can save the last of the angels… I don't have what it takes to save someone."
"You've got a rifle right there, so how about you put it to some good use!" Anne says, putting her hands on her hips, and leaning forward. "Anyway, heh, let's get going. I take the left path, and you can skip through the forest among the fireflies. If you find her before me, just call for me to come save you!"
Anne heads down the path to the left, while I see both her point of view of the torch, and Beth watching her leave. When she's disappeared past the torch, Beth follows her, with quick steps against the dirt path.
The vortex of colours and sounds reappears, as I'm transported into the next scene. It's set after the girls have made it through the forest. They have arrived at a hanging bridge, suspended above a steep cliff. There's a looming dark castle on the other side of the bridge, and underneath it is the crater of an active volcano. The lava swirls, churning its black and red in a pot of fire. A huge moon behind the castle basks the area in its glow.
The two girls look worse for wear, like they've faced a trial that pushed them to their limits. Come on, Yolene, that scene should have been included in the play! Anne's bleeding from a superficial wound on her cheek, while Beth's got twigs in her clothes and hair.
"Damn that basilisk was not to pl-play with." Beth's voice cracks. "I… I-"
"I wish you'd helped me kill it," Anne sighs, scratching her head. "It messed up my ponytail, and the only mirror I brought with me, so now I can't fix it either."
"I could fix it for you," Beth says, twirling a lock of hair between her index finger and thumb. "I'm a bit of an expert on that. I used to do it for Clara whenever she'd let me, used to beg her for a chance to-"
"Yeah, yeah, you've got a crush on the girl we're trying to find, and apparently rescue." Anne says, as she put her hands on the ropes of the bridge, and begins to walk out onto it. "You don't have to tell me everything you've been doing with her, or even thinking about doing with her. We both know where that is going to lead. I feel awkward enough tagging along, but well, without me you'd never have your lover returned to you."
"She's…" Beth's expression is positively furious, as I glance at her through Anne's eyes. "She's not my girlfriend! I am not interested in her in that way! We're simply friends, who get along great. That's all. You're reading too much into all of this. She needs my help."
"You can't even help yourself, or you would have used that rifle to tear a hole straight to that basilisk." Anne scoffs. "At this point, I'm saving your girlfriend for you, and you're dead weight. Are you even going to step onto the bridge? You do know we have to cross it to get to the last of the angels, don't you? Maybe you need to grow up while we're out here. There's no such thing as angels."
Ànne continues along the bridge, while Beth fumes. I can feel the anger in her, and read them in the instructions that Yolene gave me. I have to act it out to the audience, so that they believe she's overcoming her fear because of rage. Slamming her hand onto the rope of the bridge, I grasp it so hard that it digs into her palm. Anne notices it, and turns around to shoot Beth a smile.
"I'm not a child, Anne. No more than you are anyway," Beth says, as she slams her other hand onto the other rope. "I can get through this, with or without you. Also, angels do exist. Clara told me she was an angel, and I…"
Beth stops in her tracks, at the beginning of the bridge, as a dark silhouette flies up from the castle, visible against its backdrop the moon. The silhouette begins to descend towards the two girls, like a boulder dropping out of the sky.
"You were silly and in love, so you took her word for it," Anne says, unaware of the approaching threat. "I guess that's cute, in its own way, but you can't be blind to the world, and to facts, because you happened to stumble upon someone who is adorable."
"Watch…" Beth stops herself from uttering her warning to Anne, so angry at her that she subjects her friend to unknown danger. She begins to retreat from the bridge.
"Were you going to tell me to watch myself, watch my tongue?" Anne taunts, sticking her tongue out at Beth. "Bleh, I told you to grow up, not rebel against those smarter than you. At least not me. Go rebel against-"
The silhouette lands on the bridge, shaking it violently, and I have to experience it in first person. Twice over. The vortex may have been bad, but it was nowhere near this level of vomit-inducing hell. Anne throws up, over the side of the bridge. Beth manages to keep her dinner down by putting a hand over her mouth.
Once the shaking subsides, it becomes clear that the silhouette is another young girl. It has to be the last of the angels, as she's got white wings sprouting from her back. Clara's clad in blue heavy armour, and she's raised the visor of her helmet so it doesn't cover her face. Her ice cold eyes pierces the soul. The last of the angels lifts a spear, points it at Anne, and, nothing happens.
New instructions appear for me, in Anne's dialogue. Yolene didn't think this through one bit, did she? She can't put words on a character's tongue, and expect them to be silent. I'd rather not ignore the script either, dawdle, or I might end up in trouble with the overlords.
"Wait," I whisper with Anne, so that it won't be too obvious to everyone what's going on. "I have to get down to the stage somehow, Xera. It's going to take a minute or two, so how about you stall the muppets in the audience."
Thanks, Yolene, you've got a way with words, unlike any. You're such a smooth operator. How can I repay you for placing me in a play with such an incompetent director? I should have been in her position right now, and she could have proven what a multi-talented actress she is.
"Oops!" Beth shouts, before bending over, removing her shoe, and throwing it into the lava below us. "Fuck, that's… You're doing this on purpose, Xera! You could have paused everything!"
Eh, maybe I could have. Maybe I didn't want to.
"I'm going to quit, if you do not shut up," I say with Anne, and sit her down in the middle of the bridge. "I shouldn't have to deal with this… Ugh! Fucking quit it!"
I laugh, inside my own head, where Yolene won't be able to tell that I'm doing it. I'm entertaining myself, like a puppet running away from its master, and flipping her off. It might reflect badly on both of us, or the audience might think it's all part of the show. It's all intentional, as far as I'm concerned. I'm playing a higher game here.
The next command that comes through the prompter makes me want to strangle her. It's telling me to split myself into three characters. I have never had to do that before. There's no chance it won't be a disaster. When I refuse the command, she submits it again, and again. We're stalling the play at this point, but I can't in good conscience do what she wants me to do.
Yolene, the doll pretending to be a director, flips a switch so the scene ends. I'm tossed into the swirling vortex of colours and sounds yet again. It's so tiresome. This wasn't necessary. How are we going to maintain any cohesiveness in the plot if she keeps behaving like a spoiled brat? Can't the director stop hiding in his room, and handle the mess she's causing before we all suffer the consequences?
"Get it together," Yolena whispers, a voice that surrounds me, echoing. "We can still end this on a high note, so don't screw it up for me. I'm going to make you take the blame as it is, but haha, it doesn't have to be any worse than it is!"
"What did I ever do to you?" I ask her.
"Pfft, you know what you did. We may have been on friendly terms once, and I may have acted blind to your dislike for me, but you've crossed the line. You chose this. We could have been friends, or more..."
"I'm not sorry," I say, and I would make an offensive gesture at her if I had a body in the vortex. "You brought this on yourself."
"You will be sorry when I'm done with you. I promise." she laughs, until it permeates everything, and invades my mind. This must be what it feels like to go insane. "Oh, whoops, you're still in purgatory…? My bad, my bad. Let me, eh… There you go!"
She forces my mind to split into three. I knew she could do that, but I hoped she didn't. As she pushes me into the minds of the three characters, I decide I'm not going to go down without a fight, like she wants me to. Yolene brought this upon herself, with her arrogance and her attitude. It could have been a night like any other. I would have been bored on stage, while the director pampered her with the best lines, and the best characters.
The girls haven't actually moved a muscle since Yolene brought me into the vortex. The last of the angels is still pointing a spear at Anne, who is sitting in the middle of the bridge, and Beth's missing a shoe. I'm participating in the same scene from three angles. Is it too much to ask for that Yolene reign in her disappointment with me? There's fear in my heart, as new instructions pop up in the holographic prompter. I probably don't need to answer my previous question for you, but yes, it was too much to ask.
"You should never have come here!" I roar, as the last of the angels, thrusting her spear forward, stopping it mere centimetres from Anne's face. "You are not welcome."
"What about me…?" Beth asks, rubbing her elbow. "Are you mad at me too? I thought..."
"Hey, point that stick at something else," Anne says, pushing it out of her face. "You might hurt someone if you're not careful. You might get hurt yourself if you keep pointing it at me. I've still got my bag, and I'm not scared by your masquerade costume. How much did the wings cost you?"
"Quiet, Anne," Beth warns her. "She might kill you."
"Oh noes, I'm so scared," I say with Anne, in the snarkiest of manners, even though the prompter implores me to sound frightened. Why would she? Should I break character to prop Yolene's ego up on a pedestal? "Please, please, spare me, and if you must kill me do it swiftly. Show mercy, angel!"
A new line of dialogue appears, jammed into the scene where it doesn't fit, straight from the inept director herself.
"Dear Xera, for a second there I almost felt sorry for you," I say, reading it out loud, with the last of the angels. "Now I'm going to kill each of the characters, slowly, and you can reap what you've sowed. I'm out. I imagine that was the bargain you made me agree to at the start of this charade. Xera, I might have looked up to you, and wanted to be in your presence, but if you don't want me around I'm…"
I stop reading the message she sent me out loud, as it's too personal. I am reading this on a stage, in front of an audience, not in private. Sure, as an entertainment doll I should know to give of myself for the play, but this is Yolene's feelings and thoughts. They're not mine.
I read the rest of the message.
But if you don't want me around I'm not going to force my existence upon you any more. I'm sorry I'm so annoying, and despicable that you hate me. You were my idol. Yes, they gave me an admiration for you. I don't know why. I'm going to hold onto it, even when everyone else thinks you're washed up, and due for retirement. Best wishes, Yolene.
The next commands she issues are death warrants for each of the characters, along with an improvisation order. I am no longer her puppet. I have free rein, and control over everything that is about to happen. The characters have been doomed to die. It's not so bad. It's my punishment, and it's going to be taxing on my psyche, yet she's given me a chance here that I haven't had in forever.
Retirement was never for me… No. I will turn it all around!
The volcano beneath the girls begin to rumble, and minor eruptions throw lava into the air. At first, none of the clumps get halfway to the bridge. I act out the girls' reaction to it. Beth hurries to get onto her feet, panicked, and worried about her friends further out on the bridge. The last of the angels spins her spear in a circle, before stretching it out behind her, and gesturing for Anne to come at her.
"This is nonsense!" Anne shouts, reaching into her backpack. "We hardly have time for a fight here and now. You've got wings for crying out loud! If you know how to fly, save us!"
Anne pulls a green ball out of her backpack, then a knife, then a live chicken, then a microphone, then a flail. She throws them over the side of the bridge, feeding them to the volcano. The chicken flaps its wing, yet gravity is stronger.
"You surrendered two weapons, you fool," the last of the angels says. "I'm not going to wait for you to get ready, traitor. Keep the next weapon, or you'll lose your heart."
"Angel, demon, freak in a costume, whatever," Anne rambles, reaching into her backpack again, and getting her entire arm up to the shoulder inside. It's not that big a backpack, and what she's doing shouldn't be possible. "You've got me confused with someone else. I understand you're not right in the head, with that getup, but…" I can feel a leathery grip, which has to belong to some weapon, so I withdraw it. "A freaking whip…?"
"Destiny has chosen for you! Spear against whip, reach against, uh, reach?" the last of the angels blinks, shaking her head. "We must battle now! For the hand of the fair maiden!"
"What!?" Beth exclaims, putting her feet on solid ground. "No, no, no! I like both of you, but… but Anne and I aren't in any romantic relationship! You can have me, Clara. I'm yours! We have to escape…"
"Heh, I called it. You two have the hots for each other," Anne laughs. "She's right though. We aren't romantic, so you can have her. It doesn't make any sense for us to fight on top of an erupting volcano."
"Frankly, I'm just going for epic at this point," Clara retorts. "We're going to be charred to a crisp in minutes. God has forsaken us…"
I admit, it's pretty hard to think of something in the heat of the moment. I have underestimated Yolene, the doll director. We do need a musical score, or a song, to accompany the scene though. It'll enhance the mood.
"Music…?" I ask with Beth, looking into the sky, and raising my arms. Did Yolene really leave already? "Anything?"
A song with a hard beat, drums, male vocals, bass and electric guitar echoes throughout the area. Due to legal reasons, I can't tell you, my dear audience, what song it is. Does it fit a fantasy setting? Uh, no, it doesn't. It seems my fellow doll chose it based on the lyrics. The singer wants to be lifted up, and carried away.
The volcano grows louder, spewing more and more magma into the air. It's getting closer to the bridge, but it's not there yet. It will be soon.
"Guess I better whip you into submission before we get barbecued," Anne says, lashing out with the whip at the angel who dodges it.
"Try harder!" the angel screams, leaps into the sky, and hovers there thanks to the strength of her wings.
"Honestly, I feel like I'm not old enough to use a whip. Maybe we can postpone this battle to the death until we're eighteen years old, or older. Fifty or something. I kind of want to live a full life."
"I'm eight-hundred years old," the angel says, striking a pose mid-air. "Been waiting to die for a long time, to pass on into heaven like my kin."
"You've got me at a clear disadvantage then. More to the point, why do we have to be a part of your death? Suicide is always an option! I don't want to go to heaven!"
"Suicide would have cursed me to hell, where you're going if you get killed by an angel, traitor," Clara says, flying in a circle around Anne.
"Heh, that's reassuring…" Anne says, lashing out at the angel once more. She forces her to evade, giving herself an opening to strike at. Another lash, and the whip connects with her wing. The angel retreats, so that neither of the two fighters can reach each other. "Come on, you louse!"
"I'm leaving," Beth says, with determination in her voice for once. "I trust that you two will stop acting like immature children, waging a meaningless battle that will kill everyone, or I might have to find a new friend and a new romantic interest."
"Good luck with that." Anne raises her hand in a disinterested wave, as she considers her options for how to fight a creature that can fly, in the middle of a volcano, when she's trapped on a bridge. "Ehehe, I got it!"
"Would it be honourable for me to switch my spear for a bow?"
"No!" Anne replies, beginning to swing the suspended bridge back and forth, gaining momentum. "I'll come to you!"
Soon the bridge is swinging in a wide arc, with enough speed that Anne can lash out at the angel, who is doing her best to dodge both the maniac on the bridge, the billowing smoke, and the increasingly large lava chunks which radiates a heat that turns her wings soot black.
The first person perspective I have of Beth is abruptly cut off. A pang of emotion and agony surges through me, like I was snuffed out. I don't know what exactly happened to her, as she's quite far away from the others. I would guess one of the lava chunks landed on her. The fact that they haven't hit Anne yet boggles the mind. Every time one of them seem to be about to, she miraculously swings the bridge out of the way.
"You're like a bug, which won't stay still so I can swat it!" Anne calls out to Clara.
The angel is struggling, somehow fighting a losing battle despite the obvious advantage inherent in her wings. She shuts her eyes, whispers some kind of prayer, and moves her hand in a cross over her chest.
Clara opens her eyes, radiating a pure white light, as she dives towards Anne with her spear extended. The second before the two clash, the volcano finally erupts in full force, spewing forth lava in a steady stream which engulfs the girls.
I'm torn from the setting, landing on the stage, panting, and sweating. My body is sore, and tired, as if I'd run a marathon. Who knows who won? I got caught up in the moment. I may have had fun, almost. It's like I've forgotten the feeling. As I lay on the stage, there's no applause, no cheering, or roars. I remember something more important, and flee from the failure of a play I've put on.
Yolene's in the director's booth, backstage, with a stony expression on her face that reveals no emotion. She's sitting in the red cushioned chair, in the middle of the room, with the wide control table in front of her.
"What do you want?" she asks, sliding her arms along the armrests. "We've both suffered humiliation to last us a decade. Don't need to interact with each other. It'll only bring the emotional trauma to new heights."
"I thought I was the dramatic one," I joke, stepping closer to her. "I haven't told you the terms of the favour I requested, but I did finish the play, despite the mess that I twisted it into."
"Ah, I've got some blame there," she sighs, running a hand across her forehead into her hair. "Takes two to fuck up on such a massive scale like this. One with no directing experience, and one with no interest in assisting the clown."
"You guessed right, by the way... I would have asked you to leave. However, I've changed my mind. This was the most fun I've had in years, since…" Since before Yolene joined the same theatre as me, but I don't give my voice to that thought. "It doesn't matter. I want to believe we got off on the wrong foot, and that we can learn to work together. I'll act the professional, if you do the same in turn. What do you say?"
She rises to her feet, gazes into my eyes, and whispers her sweet agreement. I grab her hand, then we turn to the wall. The director enters the room, and grabs my other hand. Everything in the control room begins to crackle, in a sort of digital corruption, distorting and shattering pixels. Then it disappears, and the actual audience appears. We bow to them, to their half-hearted applause, and their disbelief.
Yeah, I wrote a play into a play. It was supposed to be a celebration of the director, as he's retiring. I wanted to show our gratitude as actors towards the man who has given his entire life to the theatre, and actors like myself. I'm no writer. I'm certain he groaned more than once, yet he's got a grin on his face where he sits in the front row.
The investors are seated around him, and they don't seem as pleased. It's probably because I referred to them as our overlords several times. It wasn't nice, but I don't like them. They care only for the money, not the art, or the amount of hours that go into the smallest detail.
The technology of the average theatre may have come a long way, but I am human. I am no robotic doll, or machine. None of us are. We may be to our cherished overlords in the audience, but I refuse to be a name they can exchange with another because they are cheaper, or attract a larger audience.
In all of this, there's one thing I didn't write into the original script. Yolene's confession was improvised by my co-star. A young brunette, reminiscent of Beth, and the girl they assigned to me as a student. They thought I could be the mentor of a future star. I've shunned her, yet now, I regret that.
"You're great, Xera." She squeezes my hand, and beams such pure happiness at me. "I had full confidence in you."
You ever fall in love with a character, and want to see them succeed? I'm kind of reminded of that, as she squeezes my hand, and we bow for you. Our beloved audience.
The curtain calls, and it calls for me. My name is Xera. As I bow with my left hand on my chest, and the other stretched out to my right, I must declare that it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am a doll of the entertainment variety. I go up onto a stage every night, because the overlords have a contract with my signature on it. You do not disregard your contract. Once I enjoyed it, thoroughly loved every aspect from the characters that I get to play to the clothes, the script, and the scenery. Now though, well, let's just say it's lost the charm it had.
"I know what I am doing," my younger partner scoffs, ignoring the director's instructions for the seventh time today. She's another doll. "I have it in my blood. I'm the talent here, for now, until the fools at the academy catches onto what a brilliant star you've captured. Then it's bye, bye!"
She is the main reason I can't stand it here any more. A twenty-year-old blonde, pretty, and full of herself. She may be what the audience wants, but the rest of us have to deal with her too.
"Fine, go ahead, do whatever you want!" the director exclaims, shocking both of us. "I have had it with your fancies, and your fickleness. If you think you can do it without me, then I'm not going to stop you, bitch."
He storms off, throwing the nearest door open, and slamming it behind himself. Good thing the audience can't hear anything that goes on beyond the confines of the stage, or a scandal might tarnish our reputation. The director is sensible enough that he will retreat to his room for the night, yet it leaves us without anyone to guide us through what we need to do.
"I guess that means there won't be any show tonight," she mutters to herself. "Unless an old veteran like you knows some scripts by heart, eh, Xera?"
"No, I do not," I lie. I know most of the scripts the director has written. I've written a couple myself, but they were never performed before. "I don't think you want to cancel the show either, if you want to keep your fans happy, Yolene"
"Ah, haha, yes. There is that. The poor saps won't make it through the day if they don't get to experience my talent," she slides her hand through her hair. "I shouldn't disappoint them, so what do we do?"
"I dunno."
"Hmm, how about I go up into the director's chair to control everything, while you play my main cast? I can show up at the end, dazzling them with my radiance, and my newfound talent in directing!"
"Um, no," I say, about ready to storm off like the director did. "I'm going to decline."
"Don't you have a contract to obey, just like me? If someone can put on a show, then you're obliged to be on stage. I'm saving us both here. What happens if we don't perform, hmm?" she asks, smiling at me, and touching my shoulder with the tips of three of her fingers. "Do it for me. I'm sure I can think of some reward."
"I'm not into women, or men." I take a step backwards, so she can't touch me.
"Me neither, yet here we are, and it sounds like you're turning down the star of the show."
She's going to be even worse after this, if I don't do as she wishes, isn't she? I have more to lose on walking away than I have on sticking around. It wouldn't be the first horrible show I've had to put on. I just hate playing multiple characters. There's little appeal for me when I'm going up against myself. Not that Yolene is much of a co-star, or opponent, and considering how in love with herself she should be the one playing multiple characters.
"So, what's it going to be, Xera?" Yolene asks, moving closer to me despite my withdrawal. "Are you going to run and hide like mister director?"
"...No." What am I saying? "No, I can do this favour for you. On the condition that you do one for me afterwards, which I don't have to reveal until we're finished."
"Hah, clever," she taps her index finger against her lower lip, as if she's pondering. I've seen her do it before. She's going to agree to my terms. "I accept. Now get your butt up on the stage, and wait for my signal."
I sigh, deeply, then stretch my arms and my legs. Yolene scampers off. If I know her, and unfortunately I do, it's going to take more effort than usual for me to be able to keep up with her directions. Does she even have a script prepared?
I walk towards the stage, and run up the small set of stairs. The deafening cheers that greet me seem odd. It was like that for me once, but it's been years since my stardom. I hold my hand out in front of me, and Yolene has already superimposed someone else's appearance on mine. She's fast.
My consciousness splits into halves, with one half remaining in the first character, and the other transferring into a second character entering the stage from the opposite side. It comes natural to me, albeit painful, but newcomers struggle with it.
The first character is a young girl with a ponytail, dressed in a pink outfit. She's got a medium backpack slung over her arm, and an innocent expression on her face. The second character is another young girl, except this one is unorthodox… She wears a leather jacket, with matching sunglasses, but why does she have a massive rifle strapped to her back? How is it believable that she can carry it without toppling under its weight?
As I control both of the girls, I walk them up to the front of the stage, and have them grab each other's hands. It's a strange sensation to grab what your mind recognizes as your own hand, even though it's attached to another body. The girls bow for their audience, before they all disappear when Yolene brings me into the scenario she's created.
My vision blurs, and my split mind collides with itself, going in and out. There's a vortex of strange colours and sounds, then it shapes into the two girls for the first scene. It's supposed to alleviate the strain on my brain, but it can be disorienting enough that experienced veterans like myself throw up. Our overlords should fix it, for everyone's sake.
The girls arrive at a crossroads in a forest, at night. Fireflies light up the path to their right, and a distant torch is on the path to the left among thorny branches. I get my instructions for each character, in a holographic prompter that pops up. Only I can see it in this instance of the play, and I don't like what I'm reading. I realize Yolene has had practically no time to prepare any of this, unless she's been practising script writing in secret, but the instructions suggests she's got close to no idea about how it's supposed to work. We're beginning in the middle of the story, for some inexplicable reason.
Sighing, I resign myself to my fate. I set my foot on the stage tonight, so I will displease my overlords if I do not perform. I might have gotten away with it after the director stormed off, but the audience is waiting for a show now.
"Oh no, what are we going to do, Anne? We can't get separated in a forest like this! It's already dark, and I'm… I'm…" I stammer, as the girl with the sunglasses and rifle, while her legs shake. "I didn't bring food for us if we get lost. How are we going to find Clara in here?"
"Tsk, don't sweat it, Beth. I've been in worse scenarios than this. Did I ever tell you about that time I took on an army by myself?" I say, as the girl with the ponytail, and she pats her pink backpack. "I've got everything we need right here."
"But… but… Clara," Beth stammers. "She's going to need all the help she can get. We should return to the city, gather everyone we can, so that we can save the last of the angels… I don't have what it takes to save someone."
"You've got a rifle right there, so how about you put it to some good use!" Anne says, putting her hands on her hips, and leaning forward. "Anyway, heh, let's get going. I take the left path, and you can skip through the forest among the fireflies. If you find her before me, just call for me to come save you!"
Anne heads down the path to the left, while I see both her point of view of the torch, and Beth watching her leave. When she's disappeared past the torch, Beth follows her, with quick steps against the dirt path.
The vortex of colours and sounds reappears, as I'm transported into the next scene. It's set after the girls have made it through the forest. They have arrived at a hanging bridge, suspended above a steep cliff. There's a looming dark castle on the other side of the bridge, and underneath it is the crater of an active volcano. The lava swirls, churning its black and red in a pot of fire. A huge moon behind the castle basks the area in its glow.
The two girls look worse for wear, like they've faced a trial that pushed them to their limits. Come on, Yolene, that scene should have been included in the play! Anne's bleeding from a superficial wound on her cheek, while Beth's got twigs in her clothes and hair.
"Damn that basilisk was not to pl-play with." Beth's voice cracks. "I… I-"
"I wish you'd helped me kill it," Anne sighs, scratching her head. "It messed up my ponytail, and the only mirror I brought with me, so now I can't fix it either."
"I could fix it for you," Beth says, twirling a lock of hair between her index finger and thumb. "I'm a bit of an expert on that. I used to do it for Clara whenever she'd let me, used to beg her for a chance to-"
"Yeah, yeah, you've got a crush on the girl we're trying to find, and apparently rescue." Anne says, as she put her hands on the ropes of the bridge, and begins to walk out onto it. "You don't have to tell me everything you've been doing with her, or even thinking about doing with her. We both know where that is going to lead. I feel awkward enough tagging along, but well, without me you'd never have your lover returned to you."
"She's…" Beth's expression is positively furious, as I glance at her through Anne's eyes. "She's not my girlfriend! I am not interested in her in that way! We're simply friends, who get along great. That's all. You're reading too much into all of this. She needs my help."
"You can't even help yourself, or you would have used that rifle to tear a hole straight to that basilisk." Anne scoffs. "At this point, I'm saving your girlfriend for you, and you're dead weight. Are you even going to step onto the bridge? You do know we have to cross it to get to the last of the angels, don't you? Maybe you need to grow up while we're out here. There's no such thing as angels."
Ànne continues along the bridge, while Beth fumes. I can feel the anger in her, and read them in the instructions that Yolene gave me. I have to act it out to the audience, so that they believe she's overcoming her fear because of rage. Slamming her hand onto the rope of the bridge, I grasp it so hard that it digs into her palm. Anne notices it, and turns around to shoot Beth a smile.
"I'm not a child, Anne. No more than you are anyway," Beth says, as she slams her other hand onto the other rope. "I can get through this, with or without you. Also, angels do exist. Clara told me she was an angel, and I…"
Beth stops in her tracks, at the beginning of the bridge, as a dark silhouette flies up from the castle, visible against its backdrop the moon. The silhouette begins to descend towards the two girls, like a boulder dropping out of the sky.
"You were silly and in love, so you took her word for it," Anne says, unaware of the approaching threat. "I guess that's cute, in its own way, but you can't be blind to the world, and to facts, because you happened to stumble upon someone who is adorable."
"Watch…" Beth stops herself from uttering her warning to Anne, so angry at her that she subjects her friend to unknown danger. She begins to retreat from the bridge.
"Were you going to tell me to watch myself, watch my tongue?" Anne taunts, sticking her tongue out at Beth. "Bleh, I told you to grow up, not rebel against those smarter than you. At least not me. Go rebel against-"
The silhouette lands on the bridge, shaking it violently, and I have to experience it in first person. Twice over. The vortex may have been bad, but it was nowhere near this level of vomit-inducing hell. Anne throws up, over the side of the bridge. Beth manages to keep her dinner down by putting a hand over her mouth.
Once the shaking subsides, it becomes clear that the silhouette is another young girl. It has to be the last of the angels, as she's got white wings sprouting from her back. Clara's clad in blue heavy armour, and she's raised the visor of her helmet so it doesn't cover her face. Her ice cold eyes pierces the soul. The last of the angels lifts a spear, points it at Anne, and, nothing happens.
New instructions appear for me, in Anne's dialogue. Yolene didn't think this through one bit, did she? She can't put words on a character's tongue, and expect them to be silent. I'd rather not ignore the script either, dawdle, or I might end up in trouble with the overlords.
"Wait," I whisper with Anne, so that it won't be too obvious to everyone what's going on. "I have to get down to the stage somehow, Xera. It's going to take a minute or two, so how about you stall the muppets in the audience."
Thanks, Yolene, you've got a way with words, unlike any. You're such a smooth operator. How can I repay you for placing me in a play with such an incompetent director? I should have been in her position right now, and she could have proven what a multi-talented actress she is.
"Oops!" Beth shouts, before bending over, removing her shoe, and throwing it into the lava below us. "Fuck, that's… You're doing this on purpose, Xera! You could have paused everything!"
Eh, maybe I could have. Maybe I didn't want to.
"I'm going to quit, if you do not shut up," I say with Anne, and sit her down in the middle of the bridge. "I shouldn't have to deal with this… Ugh! Fucking quit it!"
I laugh, inside my own head, where Yolene won't be able to tell that I'm doing it. I'm entertaining myself, like a puppet running away from its master, and flipping her off. It might reflect badly on both of us, or the audience might think it's all part of the show. It's all intentional, as far as I'm concerned. I'm playing a higher game here.
The next command that comes through the prompter makes me want to strangle her. It's telling me to split myself into three characters. I have never had to do that before. There's no chance it won't be a disaster. When I refuse the command, she submits it again, and again. We're stalling the play at this point, but I can't in good conscience do what she wants me to do.
Yolene, the doll pretending to be a director, flips a switch so the scene ends. I'm tossed into the swirling vortex of colours and sounds yet again. It's so tiresome. This wasn't necessary. How are we going to maintain any cohesiveness in the plot if she keeps behaving like a spoiled brat? Can't the director stop hiding in his room, and handle the mess she's causing before we all suffer the consequences?
"Get it together," Yolena whispers, a voice that surrounds me, echoing. "We can still end this on a high note, so don't screw it up for me. I'm going to make you take the blame as it is, but haha, it doesn't have to be any worse than it is!"
"What did I ever do to you?" I ask her.
"Pfft, you know what you did. We may have been on friendly terms once, and I may have acted blind to your dislike for me, but you've crossed the line. You chose this. We could have been friends, or more..."
"I'm not sorry," I say, and I would make an offensive gesture at her if I had a body in the vortex. "You brought this on yourself."
"You will be sorry when I'm done with you. I promise." she laughs, until it permeates everything, and invades my mind. This must be what it feels like to go insane. "Oh, whoops, you're still in purgatory…? My bad, my bad. Let me, eh… There you go!"
She forces my mind to split into three. I knew she could do that, but I hoped she didn't. As she pushes me into the minds of the three characters, I decide I'm not going to go down without a fight, like she wants me to. Yolene brought this upon herself, with her arrogance and her attitude. It could have been a night like any other. I would have been bored on stage, while the director pampered her with the best lines, and the best characters.
The girls haven't actually moved a muscle since Yolene brought me into the vortex. The last of the angels is still pointing a spear at Anne, who is sitting in the middle of the bridge, and Beth's missing a shoe. I'm participating in the same scene from three angles. Is it too much to ask for that Yolene reign in her disappointment with me? There's fear in my heart, as new instructions pop up in the holographic prompter. I probably don't need to answer my previous question for you, but yes, it was too much to ask.
"You should never have come here!" I roar, as the last of the angels, thrusting her spear forward, stopping it mere centimetres from Anne's face. "You are not welcome."
"What about me…?" Beth asks, rubbing her elbow. "Are you mad at me too? I thought..."
"Hey, point that stick at something else," Anne says, pushing it out of her face. "You might hurt someone if you're not careful. You might get hurt yourself if you keep pointing it at me. I've still got my bag, and I'm not scared by your masquerade costume. How much did the wings cost you?"
"Quiet, Anne," Beth warns her. "She might kill you."
"Oh noes, I'm so scared," I say with Anne, in the snarkiest of manners, even though the prompter implores me to sound frightened. Why would she? Should I break character to prop Yolene's ego up on a pedestal? "Please, please, spare me, and if you must kill me do it swiftly. Show mercy, angel!"
A new line of dialogue appears, jammed into the scene where it doesn't fit, straight from the inept director herself.
"Dear Xera, for a second there I almost felt sorry for you," I say, reading it out loud, with the last of the angels. "Now I'm going to kill each of the characters, slowly, and you can reap what you've sowed. I'm out. I imagine that was the bargain you made me agree to at the start of this charade. Xera, I might have looked up to you, and wanted to be in your presence, but if you don't want me around I'm…"
I stop reading the message she sent me out loud, as it's too personal. I am reading this on a stage, in front of an audience, not in private. Sure, as an entertainment doll I should know to give of myself for the play, but this is Yolene's feelings and thoughts. They're not mine.
I read the rest of the message.
But if you don't want me around I'm not going to force my existence upon you any more. I'm sorry I'm so annoying, and despicable that you hate me. You were my idol. Yes, they gave me an admiration for you. I don't know why. I'm going to hold onto it, even when everyone else thinks you're washed up, and due for retirement. Best wishes, Yolene.
The next commands she issues are death warrants for each of the characters, along with an improvisation order. I am no longer her puppet. I have free rein, and control over everything that is about to happen. The characters have been doomed to die. It's not so bad. It's my punishment, and it's going to be taxing on my psyche, yet she's given me a chance here that I haven't had in forever.
Retirement was never for me… No. I will turn it all around!
The volcano beneath the girls begin to rumble, and minor eruptions throw lava into the air. At first, none of the clumps get halfway to the bridge. I act out the girls' reaction to it. Beth hurries to get onto her feet, panicked, and worried about her friends further out on the bridge. The last of the angels spins her spear in a circle, before stretching it out behind her, and gesturing for Anne to come at her.
"This is nonsense!" Anne shouts, reaching into her backpack. "We hardly have time for a fight here and now. You've got wings for crying out loud! If you know how to fly, save us!"
Anne pulls a green ball out of her backpack, then a knife, then a live chicken, then a microphone, then a flail. She throws them over the side of the bridge, feeding them to the volcano. The chicken flaps its wing, yet gravity is stronger.
"You surrendered two weapons, you fool," the last of the angels says. "I'm not going to wait for you to get ready, traitor. Keep the next weapon, or you'll lose your heart."
"Angel, demon, freak in a costume, whatever," Anne rambles, reaching into her backpack again, and getting her entire arm up to the shoulder inside. It's not that big a backpack, and what she's doing shouldn't be possible. "You've got me confused with someone else. I understand you're not right in the head, with that getup, but…" I can feel a leathery grip, which has to belong to some weapon, so I withdraw it. "A freaking whip…?"
"Destiny has chosen for you! Spear against whip, reach against, uh, reach?" the last of the angels blinks, shaking her head. "We must battle now! For the hand of the fair maiden!"
"What!?" Beth exclaims, putting her feet on solid ground. "No, no, no! I like both of you, but… but Anne and I aren't in any romantic relationship! You can have me, Clara. I'm yours! We have to escape…"
"Heh, I called it. You two have the hots for each other," Anne laughs. "She's right though. We aren't romantic, so you can have her. It doesn't make any sense for us to fight on top of an erupting volcano."
"Frankly, I'm just going for epic at this point," Clara retorts. "We're going to be charred to a crisp in minutes. God has forsaken us…"
I admit, it's pretty hard to think of something in the heat of the moment. I have underestimated Yolene, the doll director. We do need a musical score, or a song, to accompany the scene though. It'll enhance the mood.
"Music…?" I ask with Beth, looking into the sky, and raising my arms. Did Yolene really leave already? "Anything?"
A song with a hard beat, drums, male vocals, bass and electric guitar echoes throughout the area. Due to legal reasons, I can't tell you, my dear audience, what song it is. Does it fit a fantasy setting? Uh, no, it doesn't. It seems my fellow doll chose it based on the lyrics. The singer wants to be lifted up, and carried away.
The volcano grows louder, spewing more and more magma into the air. It's getting closer to the bridge, but it's not there yet. It will be soon.
"Guess I better whip you into submission before we get barbecued," Anne says, lashing out with the whip at the angel who dodges it.
"Try harder!" the angel screams, leaps into the sky, and hovers there thanks to the strength of her wings.
"Honestly, I feel like I'm not old enough to use a whip. Maybe we can postpone this battle to the death until we're eighteen years old, or older. Fifty or something. I kind of want to live a full life."
"I'm eight-hundred years old," the angel says, striking a pose mid-air. "Been waiting to die for a long time, to pass on into heaven like my kin."
"You've got me at a clear disadvantage then. More to the point, why do we have to be a part of your death? Suicide is always an option! I don't want to go to heaven!"
"Suicide would have cursed me to hell, where you're going if you get killed by an angel, traitor," Clara says, flying in a circle around Anne.
"Heh, that's reassuring…" Anne says, lashing out at the angel once more. She forces her to evade, giving herself an opening to strike at. Another lash, and the whip connects with her wing. The angel retreats, so that neither of the two fighters can reach each other. "Come on, you louse!"
"I'm leaving," Beth says, with determination in her voice for once. "I trust that you two will stop acting like immature children, waging a meaningless battle that will kill everyone, or I might have to find a new friend and a new romantic interest."
"Good luck with that." Anne raises her hand in a disinterested wave, as she considers her options for how to fight a creature that can fly, in the middle of a volcano, when she's trapped on a bridge. "Ehehe, I got it!"
"Would it be honourable for me to switch my spear for a bow?"
"No!" Anne replies, beginning to swing the suspended bridge back and forth, gaining momentum. "I'll come to you!"
Soon the bridge is swinging in a wide arc, with enough speed that Anne can lash out at the angel, who is doing her best to dodge both the maniac on the bridge, the billowing smoke, and the increasingly large lava chunks which radiates a heat that turns her wings soot black.
The first person perspective I have of Beth is abruptly cut off. A pang of emotion and agony surges through me, like I was snuffed out. I don't know what exactly happened to her, as she's quite far away from the others. I would guess one of the lava chunks landed on her. The fact that they haven't hit Anne yet boggles the mind. Every time one of them seem to be about to, she miraculously swings the bridge out of the way.
"You're like a bug, which won't stay still so I can swat it!" Anne calls out to Clara.
The angel is struggling, somehow fighting a losing battle despite the obvious advantage inherent in her wings. She shuts her eyes, whispers some kind of prayer, and moves her hand in a cross over her chest.
Clara opens her eyes, radiating a pure white light, as she dives towards Anne with her spear extended. The second before the two clash, the volcano finally erupts in full force, spewing forth lava in a steady stream which engulfs the girls.
I'm torn from the setting, landing on the stage, panting, and sweating. My body is sore, and tired, as if I'd run a marathon. Who knows who won? I got caught up in the moment. I may have had fun, almost. It's like I've forgotten the feeling. As I lay on the stage, there's no applause, no cheering, or roars. I remember something more important, and flee from the failure of a play I've put on.
Yolene's in the director's booth, backstage, with a stony expression on her face that reveals no emotion. She's sitting in the red cushioned chair, in the middle of the room, with the wide control table in front of her.
"What do you want?" she asks, sliding her arms along the armrests. "We've both suffered humiliation to last us a decade. Don't need to interact with each other. It'll only bring the emotional trauma to new heights."
"I thought I was the dramatic one," I joke, stepping closer to her. "I haven't told you the terms of the favour I requested, but I did finish the play, despite the mess that I twisted it into."
"Ah, I've got some blame there," she sighs, running a hand across her forehead into her hair. "Takes two to fuck up on such a massive scale like this. One with no directing experience, and one with no interest in assisting the clown."
"You guessed right, by the way... I would have asked you to leave. However, I've changed my mind. This was the most fun I've had in years, since…" Since before Yolene joined the same theatre as me, but I don't give my voice to that thought. "It doesn't matter. I want to believe we got off on the wrong foot, and that we can learn to work together. I'll act the professional, if you do the same in turn. What do you say?"
She rises to her feet, gazes into my eyes, and whispers her sweet agreement. I grab her hand, then we turn to the wall. The director enters the room, and grabs my other hand. Everything in the control room begins to crackle, in a sort of digital corruption, distorting and shattering pixels. Then it disappears, and the actual audience appears. We bow to them, to their half-hearted applause, and their disbelief.
Yeah, I wrote a play into a play. It was supposed to be a celebration of the director, as he's retiring. I wanted to show our gratitude as actors towards the man who has given his entire life to the theatre, and actors like myself. I'm no writer. I'm certain he groaned more than once, yet he's got a grin on his face where he sits in the front row.
The investors are seated around him, and they don't seem as pleased. It's probably because I referred to them as our overlords several times. It wasn't nice, but I don't like them. They care only for the money, not the art, or the amount of hours that go into the smallest detail.
The technology of the average theatre may have come a long way, but I am human. I am no robotic doll, or machine. None of us are. We may be to our cherished overlords in the audience, but I refuse to be a name they can exchange with another because they are cheaper, or attract a larger audience.
In all of this, there's one thing I didn't write into the original script. Yolene's confession was improvised by my co-star. A young brunette, reminiscent of Beth, and the girl they assigned to me as a student. They thought I could be the mentor of a future star. I've shunned her, yet now, I regret that.
"You're great, Xera." She squeezes my hand, and beams such pure happiness at me. "I had full confidence in you."
You ever fall in love with a character, and want to see them succeed? I'm kind of reminded of that, as she squeezes my hand, and we bow for you. Our beloved audience.
Nika in Ten
When he first saw her, he thought she was a prostitute.
He had thought her weak and almost disgusting in her forwardness. Of course now the thought that prostitutes are weak makes him laugh and remember the sting in his jaw that remained for days after the actual blow.
His next thought about her was dangerous. Two minutes after they met, she had pinned him to the wall and kneed him in the groin. The next day, he got a clear look at just how many knives she could possibly fit on her person and still wear form-fitting clothes. Now, he stays far away from her if she's pissed.
His third thought was orphan. He remembered that day distinctly. They were in town (which one, he wasn't sure. They had visited so many…) when she suddenly veered off course and into a dark alleyway. Of course he followed her, complaining all the while. It was only when he got to the end of the alley that he realized what had caught her attention, and his harsh words died in his throat.
It was a small child, covered in fresh blood. It slowly seeped out of a large slash on the child's torso and abdomen, clearly a fatal wound. She was crouched down next to the child, one hand lightly holding on to a much smaller one, while the other hand gently traced letters and words into the air. That was the secret language of the street kids, a language that no one else ever knew.
Before that point, he'd had no idea that she had lived on the streets as a child. In fact, he hadn't known anything about her at all. She sat there and held that child's hand until they died, silently comforting them until their eyes closed and they took their last breath. Then she took a deep shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and slowly let go of the child's hand. It fell limply to the ground, and she left.
His fourth thought was vulnerable. This was also a memory that he would keep with him for a long time. They had been traveling together for several months now, and they finally trusted each other to watch each other's back, after a long period of distrust and wariness. They could relax now.
She had been acting strangely all day, so much so that he had noticed (a feat in and of itself). He was worried, but didn't say anything until they had stopped for lunch in a nearby town and she was so flushed and unsteady that she could barely hold the spoon to eat her soup with. That was the point where he gently ordered her up to their room (it had two beds, don't get any ideas) and helped her up with a hand at her elbow. The fact that she didn't complain about the order made him worry more, and the fact that she flinched at his touch for a moment made it even worse.
Her fever spiked an hour later and she began to thrash and writhe in her bed, startling him from where he sat in a nearby chair, watching over her. He reached over to try and soothe her, only to have her violently shrink away from his touch, pleas beginning to spill from her mouth. She begged him not to hurt her, swore that she would be good, whimpered that she would do whatever he said.
He couldn't breathe for a minute. He knew this trauma had to come from her childhood, it was too strong to be any more recent. Who could have done this to a child? Hurt them so much that they begged for the pain to stop? Even worse was the fact that she would have been a young girl then, and he had heard rumours of what sick men tried to do to young girls… He almost threw up.
Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he just focused on trying to help her, spooning potions into her mouth and placing cold cloths on her forehead. Finally the fever broke in the evening, and they both slept, exhausted, until noon the next day, when he awoke due to movement on the bed. He had fallen asleep half on the bed and half on the chair, and it was because of this position that he had awoken when she did. He opened his eyes slightly, and froze. She was crying.
He had never seen her cry. It was completely silent, small hitching breaths shaking her shoulders as tears slid down her face. She was gasping, desperately trying to control herself, but she couldn't. Unable to help himself, he slowly reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. At first she flinched away, but when he didn't move, she swayed and finally leaned into him, crying into his shoulder.
When she finally pulled away, her face was clear and there were no signs of her earlier tears. She was still a little weak from her short illness, but she was determined to leave and so they continued on their journey, never mentioning the incident again. But still, he didn't let himself forget.
His fifth thought was caring. This one was probably the most surprising to him. Vulnerable, he could understand. There were circumstances beyond her control there, and it could happen to anyone. But this… He almost couldn't believe it when he first saw it, but then he began to see it all the time.
The first time he realized that she loved animals more than people was when they came across a bunch of village idiots kicking around a cat. The animal was half-dead already, but still gamely tried to escape even though it was futile. She stopped dead in the middle of the street, just staring at them as they laughed and jeered at the poor animal. He really didn't like the look on her face.
It was good that he got out of the way, because the next second she was charging them, a naked blade in her hand. They scattered like bowling pins, screaming in fright. Some were lucky enough to escape her wrath, but others were not so lucky. Several stumbled away bleeding, while others fell where they had stood. He didn't feel sorry for them, they had pissed off the wrong girl.
Carefully nudging one bleeding, moaning body aside to clear his path, he walked over to her only to freeze. She was on her knees, cradling the small cat in her hands, crooning to it. Actually crooning.
That was something he hadn't thought her capable of. Her voice was soft and soothing, her hands gentle as she stroked the poor animal lightly, taking care to avoid any obvious wounds. Before he could even speak, she got up and turned to him, her eyes fierce even as her grip was light. Cowed by her gaze, he stepped aside before he even realized it, allowing her to leave with the cat.
She nursed it back to health over the next two weeks, feeding it fatty foods and tending to its wounds with single-minded care. No doubt by the time they left, the animal was in the best shape of its life. It seemed almost sad to see them go, but it stayed in the village, choosing not to follow.
When he looked back over their previous experiences in other towns, he realized that she had always drawn animals to her. In every town, he managed to catch her stroking at least one cat, petting a dog, murmuring to horses, or any animal imaginable. Why she did this, he didn't know or ask.
His sixth thought about her was cunning. He hadn't noticed before just how manipulative and sly she actually was. Despite being an assassin, she always seemed to favor a straightforward attack in the dead of night, with a little sneaking around, but that was all. Now though, he got to see her truly at work.
Their job was to get some information from a suspected traitor to the government (at this point they had their own doubts about the government but that was besides the point) and he was all for kidnapping the guy and torturing the information out of him, but she had a different idea. And boy what an idea.
None of her daggers were shown, but he knew they were still there, tucked out of sight under her clothes. She walked like she was royalty, like everyone needed to pay attention to her and obey her every wish. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it fascinated him, just like it did everyone.
She engaged the target in conversation, and had him eating out of the palm of her hand in just half an hour. He was utterly entranced by her. It was almost scary to see. By the time it was evening, he was completely in love with her. He would have told her anything to make her happy, and he did.
She got all the information they had needed, and all without even raising a single hand in violence.
His seventh thought about her was seductive. After what he had noticed about her before, he had kept an eye on her, watching for any other reveals about her character that he hadn't noticed before. However, he wasn't as subtle about it as he thought he had been, since one day she confronted him.
He was in his room at the inn they were staying in for the night, for once they had gotten separate rooms since this town was known for its emphasis on purity and neither one of them were eager to pretend to be married. Thus, it was separate rooms for them tonight, and twice the cost in the morning.
She entered the room, and he knew it was her from the fact that the intruder was utterly silent, even down to the slide of the door on well oiled hinges. After a moment of silence, he felt her sit down on the bed next to him. He focused deliberately on the task in front of him, organizing his potions case.
Her hand landed on his, gently guiding it down until the potion in his hand was laid down safely on the desk, before a twist of her wrist had them holding hands. It was, perhaps, the most intimate they had ever been before, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that his heartbeat just tripled.
Softly she explained to him how she had noticed him looking at her, and he swallowed tightly. He was still determinedly not looking her in the eyes, but that was soon changed as her other hand rose to his chin and lifted his head until their gazes met. She asked him why, but he couldn't answer.
A wry smile twisted her lips, and his gaze fell to them almost before he noticed what he was looking at. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he choked on a breath. Her hand, still in his, slowly drifted up his arm while the one on his chin fell down to rest on his chest. What was going on?
Her voice was low and husky when she told him that he would get more answers from her if he just came out and asked them then he would by watching her, and he was so lost in her that he couldn't even refute her statement. She rose smoothly to her feet and was out of the door before he even noticed.
The low laugh he heard from the hallway did nothing to douse the raging fire her touch had incited in him.
The eighth thought he had about her was trust. They needed extra help for their next mission, and he recommended someone from his past. He didn't really trust him, but their options were really limited. She gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowed, but said nothing when they went to get him.
The plan the three of them eventually came up with was extremely risky, and they all needed to succeed or else all three of them would fail. He could tell that she was unhappy with the fact that she would have to rely on all three of them to do their parts, but she didn't say anything about it.
There were a couple of setbacks, but when the mission was over and they had all managed to get out safely, he knew that they had passed her test, both of them, whether or not they knew there had been a test or not. And from that moment on, their duo, which had worked so well, became a trio.
The ninth thought he had about her was stubborn. He knew that once she got an idea in her head she stuck with it, but he hadn't thought she would be this bad. Gods, it was honestly infuriating!
Both of them had explained to her several times just how the plan she had come up with was too dangerous for her, and they could help her, and so many other things, but she seemed deaf to it all. He just couldn't why she was being so obtuse, when he knew her to be a logical and rational woman.
Finally, she looked them both in the eyes, and stated that she would rather put herself in danger than either of them, and that pretty much ended the argument right then and there. What else could they say to that?
In return they fussed over her when she returned, both of their hearts beating faster in their chests as they waited for her to come back. When she did finally show up, bloodied and beaten, they knew that the mission hadn't worked out as well as they had hoped, but at least she came back to them.
And none of them mentioned the fear that was clear in all of their eyes, or the relief-filled way that they assured each other they were all safe and mostly unharmed. They all shared the bed that night.
His tenth thought about her was one he had never thought would apply to her of all people: hesitant. To be fair, she had never shown it in any area but this one, and in this he could understand the urge.
They had invited her to a party, hosted by a friend of theirs, but didn't honestly expect her to show up. She did, however, dressed in the most perfect thing he had ever seen. All black, fitted to her slim form, with small silver bells threaded into her hair. Long black boots went up her legs, the heels making her hips swing back and forth with every step. Small hints of her daggers were revealed with every step.
They both just watched her, unable to take their eyes off of her. She came over to them, and here he could see it. The way that she wavered, just for a moment, before moving towards them. That was the one sign that she was just as nervous as they were, the one hint of what this meant to her.
They spoke for a little while, and it got to the point where their third had to go off and relieve himself of the sexual tension building inside of them, that he realized this was going too far in public. Their third obviously had the same idea, as he pretended to be more drunk than he really was.
That prompted her to sigh and let him lean on her as she commanded him to lead her to the house their third was staying at. He obediently led the way, knowing that she needed to feel in control for the moment, or her nervousness might overwhelm her. He could feel it twisting in his own stomach.
Finally they got to the house, and he could barely remember how it started, but suddenly they were all kissing, all three of them, and none of them could stop it. Not that they wanted to, of course.
The next morning, some of the hesitance was back, but a gentle kiss was enough to push it away. There was no need of hesitance now. They had each other, and nothing was going to take that away.
When he first saw her, he thought she was a prostitute.
He had thought her weak and almost disgusting in her forwardness. Of course now the thought that prostitutes are weak makes him laugh and remember the sting in his jaw that remained for days after the actual blow.
His next thought about her was dangerous. Two minutes after they met, she had pinned him to the wall and kneed him in the groin. The next day, he got a clear look at just how many knives she could possibly fit on her person and still wear form-fitting clothes. Now, he stays far away from her if she's pissed.
His third thought was orphan. He remembered that day distinctly. They were in town (which one, he wasn't sure. They had visited so many…) when she suddenly veered off course and into a dark alleyway. Of course he followed her, complaining all the while. It was only when he got to the end of the alley that he realized what had caught her attention, and his harsh words died in his throat.
It was a small child, covered in fresh blood. It slowly seeped out of a large slash on the child's torso and abdomen, clearly a fatal wound. She was crouched down next to the child, one hand lightly holding on to a much smaller one, while the other hand gently traced letters and words into the air. That was the secret language of the street kids, a language that no one else ever knew.
Before that point, he'd had no idea that she had lived on the streets as a child. In fact, he hadn't known anything about her at all. She sat there and held that child's hand until they died, silently comforting them until their eyes closed and they took their last breath. Then she took a deep shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and slowly let go of the child's hand. It fell limply to the ground, and she left.
His fourth thought was vulnerable. This was also a memory that he would keep with him for a long time. They had been traveling together for several months now, and they finally trusted each other to watch each other's back, after a long period of distrust and wariness. They could relax now.
She had been acting strangely all day, so much so that he had noticed (a feat in and of itself). He was worried, but didn't say anything until they had stopped for lunch in a nearby town and she was so flushed and unsteady that she could barely hold the spoon to eat her soup with. That was the point where he gently ordered her up to their room (it had two beds, don't get any ideas) and helped her up with a hand at her elbow. The fact that she didn't complain about the order made him worry more, and the fact that she flinched at his touch for a moment made it even worse.
Her fever spiked an hour later and she began to thrash and writhe in her bed, startling him from where he sat in a nearby chair, watching over her. He reached over to try and soothe her, only to have her violently shrink away from his touch, pleas beginning to spill from her mouth. She begged him not to hurt her, swore that she would be good, whimpered that she would do whatever he said.
He couldn't breathe for a minute. He knew this trauma had to come from her childhood, it was too strong to be any more recent. Who could have done this to a child? Hurt them so much that they begged for the pain to stop? Even worse was the fact that she would have been a young girl then, and he had heard rumours of what sick men tried to do to young girls… He almost threw up.
Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he just focused on trying to help her, spooning potions into her mouth and placing cold cloths on her forehead. Finally the fever broke in the evening, and they both slept, exhausted, until noon the next day, when he awoke due to movement on the bed. He had fallen asleep half on the bed and half on the chair, and it was because of this position that he had awoken when she did. He opened his eyes slightly, and froze. She was crying.
He had never seen her cry. It was completely silent, small hitching breaths shaking her shoulders as tears slid down her face. She was gasping, desperately trying to control herself, but she couldn't. Unable to help himself, he slowly reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. At first she flinched away, but when he didn't move, she swayed and finally leaned into him, crying into his shoulder.
When she finally pulled away, her face was clear and there were no signs of her earlier tears. She was still a little weak from her short illness, but she was determined to leave and so they continued on their journey, never mentioning the incident again. But still, he didn't let himself forget.
His fifth thought was caring. This one was probably the most surprising to him. Vulnerable, he could understand. There were circumstances beyond her control there, and it could happen to anyone. But this… He almost couldn't believe it when he first saw it, but then he began to see it all the time.
The first time he realized that she loved animals more than people was when they came across a bunch of village idiots kicking around a cat. The animal was half-dead already, but still gamely tried to escape even though it was futile. She stopped dead in the middle of the street, just staring at them as they laughed and jeered at the poor animal. He really didn't like the look on her face.
It was good that he got out of the way, because the next second she was charging them, a naked blade in her hand. They scattered like bowling pins, screaming in fright. Some were lucky enough to escape her wrath, but others were not so lucky. Several stumbled away bleeding, while others fell where they had stood. He didn't feel sorry for them, they had pissed off the wrong girl.
Carefully nudging one bleeding, moaning body aside to clear his path, he walked over to her only to freeze. She was on her knees, cradling the small cat in her hands, crooning to it. Actually crooning.
That was something he hadn't thought her capable of. Her voice was soft and soothing, her hands gentle as she stroked the poor animal lightly, taking care to avoid any obvious wounds. Before he could even speak, she got up and turned to him, her eyes fierce even as her grip was light. Cowed by her gaze, he stepped aside before he even realized it, allowing her to leave with the cat.
She nursed it back to health over the next two weeks, feeding it fatty foods and tending to its wounds with single-minded care. No doubt by the time they left, the animal was in the best shape of its life. It seemed almost sad to see them go, but it stayed in the village, choosing not to follow.
When he looked back over their previous experiences in other towns, he realized that she had always drawn animals to her. In every town, he managed to catch her stroking at least one cat, petting a dog, murmuring to horses, or any animal imaginable. Why she did this, he didn't know or ask.
His sixth thought about her was cunning. He hadn't noticed before just how manipulative and sly she actually was. Despite being an assassin, she always seemed to favor a straightforward attack in the dead of night, with a little sneaking around, but that was all. Now though, he got to see her truly at work.
Their job was to get some information from a suspected traitor to the government (at this point they had their own doubts about the government but that was besides the point) and he was all for kidnapping the guy and torturing the information out of him, but she had a different idea. And boy what an idea.
None of her daggers were shown, but he knew they were still there, tucked out of sight under her clothes. She walked like she was royalty, like everyone needed to pay attention to her and obey her every wish. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it fascinated him, just like it did everyone.
She engaged the target in conversation, and had him eating out of the palm of her hand in just half an hour. He was utterly entranced by her. It was almost scary to see. By the time it was evening, he was completely in love with her. He would have told her anything to make her happy, and he did.
She got all the information they had needed, and all without even raising a single hand in violence.
His seventh thought about her was seductive. After what he had noticed about her before, he had kept an eye on her, watching for any other reveals about her character that he hadn't noticed before. However, he wasn't as subtle about it as he thought he had been, since one day she confronted him.
He was in his room at the inn they were staying in for the night, for once they had gotten separate rooms since this town was known for its emphasis on purity and neither one of them were eager to pretend to be married. Thus, it was separate rooms for them tonight, and twice the cost in the morning.
She entered the room, and he knew it was her from the fact that the intruder was utterly silent, even down to the slide of the door on well oiled hinges. After a moment of silence, he felt her sit down on the bed next to him. He focused deliberately on the task in front of him, organizing his potions case.
Her hand landed on his, gently guiding it down until the potion in his hand was laid down safely on the desk, before a twist of her wrist had them holding hands. It was, perhaps, the most intimate they had ever been before, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that his heartbeat just tripled.
Softly she explained to him how she had noticed him looking at her, and he swallowed tightly. He was still determinedly not looking her in the eyes, but that was soon changed as her other hand rose to his chin and lifted his head until their gazes met. She asked him why, but he couldn't answer.
A wry smile twisted her lips, and his gaze fell to them almost before he noticed what he was looking at. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he choked on a breath. Her hand, still in his, slowly drifted up his arm while the one on his chin fell down to rest on his chest. What was going on?
Her voice was low and husky when she told him that he would get more answers from her if he just came out and asked them then he would by watching her, and he was so lost in her that he couldn't even refute her statement. She rose smoothly to her feet and was out of the door before he even noticed.
The low laugh he heard from the hallway did nothing to douse the raging fire her touch had incited in him.
The eighth thought he had about her was trust. They needed extra help for their next mission, and he recommended someone from his past. He didn't really trust him, but their options were really limited. She gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowed, but said nothing when they went to get him.
The plan the three of them eventually came up with was extremely risky, and they all needed to succeed or else all three of them would fail. He could tell that she was unhappy with the fact that she would have to rely on all three of them to do their parts, but she didn't say anything about it.
There were a couple of setbacks, but when the mission was over and they had all managed to get out safely, he knew that they had passed her test, both of them, whether or not they knew there had been a test or not. And from that moment on, their duo, which had worked so well, became a trio.
The ninth thought he had about her was stubborn. He knew that once she got an idea in her head she stuck with it, but he hadn't thought she would be this bad. Gods, it was honestly infuriating!
Both of them had explained to her several times just how the plan she had come up with was too dangerous for her, and they could help her, and so many other things, but she seemed deaf to it all. He just couldn't why she was being so obtuse, when he knew her to be a logical and rational woman.
Finally, she looked them both in the eyes, and stated that she would rather put herself in danger than either of them, and that pretty much ended the argument right then and there. What else could they say to that?
In return they fussed over her when she returned, both of their hearts beating faster in their chests as they waited for her to come back. When she did finally show up, bloodied and beaten, they knew that the mission hadn't worked out as well as they had hoped, but at least she came back to them.
And none of them mentioned the fear that was clear in all of their eyes, or the relief-filled way that they assured each other they were all safe and mostly unharmed. They all shared the bed that night.
His tenth thought about her was one he had never thought would apply to her of all people: hesitant. To be fair, she had never shown it in any area but this one, and in this he could understand the urge.
They had invited her to a party, hosted by a friend of theirs, but didn't honestly expect her to show up. She did, however, dressed in the most perfect thing he had ever seen. All black, fitted to her slim form, with small silver bells threaded into her hair. Long black boots went up her legs, the heels making her hips swing back and forth with every step. Small hints of her daggers were revealed with every step.
They both just watched her, unable to take their eyes off of her. She came over to them, and here he could see it. The way that she wavered, just for a moment, before moving towards them. That was the one sign that she was just as nervous as they were, the one hint of what this meant to her.
They spoke for a little while, and it got to the point where their third had to go off and relieve himself of the sexual tension building inside of them, that he realized this was going too far in public. Their third obviously had the same idea, as he pretended to be more drunk than he really was.
That prompted her to sigh and let him lean on her as she commanded him to lead her to the house their third was staying at. He obediently led the way, knowing that she needed to feel in control for the moment, or her nervousness might overwhelm her. He could feel it twisting in his own stomach.
Finally they got to the house, and he could barely remember how it started, but suddenly they were all kissing, all three of them, and none of them could stop it. Not that they wanted to, of course.
The next morning, some of the hesitance was back, but a gentle kiss was enough to push it away. There was no need of hesitance now. They had each other, and nothing was going to take that away.
Red River Retribution
A gasp of air reached out underneath blankets of mud and sand, sapphire eyes shuddering against puffy clouds of gray. Rays of sunlight broke through the smoky veil, God's distorted grace weaving through the natural cathedral of oak and pine. An insufferable amount of weight bore down at the "grime girl", her rasp cry of pain drowned out in the chirping of robins and the cawing of buzzards. Lifting her head, the muck fell from her pale skin, frolics of ebony hair nearly indistinguishable from the filth. Hands, desperate and shaky, pulled her up and forward, the petite girl reeling herself out of her own grave, reborn among salt and smoke.
"Well, if it ain't lil' Miss Eliza. How ye holdin' up, girl? Rest of the Hudson treating you good?"
Eliza crawled on all fours, the strength in her body returning measurably. Her world spun around and around, yet before her she could see the waters of the Red River. Teeth crunched together, a hiss of determined frustration escaping her lips, driving her ahead to the sacred water. A perforating stench of something diseased and wicked hit her nose, the work of the Devil flowing like a miasma. With a deep breath, Eliza dove her head forward, plunging it into the summer waters of the great, winding river.
"Well, Felix threaten to gut me if he caught me wearing this fur coat again and not dressing like a proper lady. He is scaring me as of late, Grenadier."
In an instant, she reeled back, baptized and awake. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, Eliza gulping unsteadily, that horrid stench of still hitting her nose. Pulling her legs up, climbing out of the Red River, the lone "trapper" flinched, a wall of eerie mist greeting her lost gaze.
"Hey now, don't give the Frenchie too much problem child. He just isn't used to you being a part of us for the time being. After all, a little girl like you should be in a warm home out by the coast, Eliza, not with men like us. I know we found you...well, not in the greatest of times, but ya know how it is. Redskins have gotten a lot more violent as o' late. Wouldn't want to see yourself without a scalp now. And please, just call me Daniel girl. I've known you for three months now, don't need to keep remindin' me of the war I fought."
Whispers of phantoms danced in her head, each timid step into the unknown causing young Eliza to cover her mouth with her hands. All around she could see them- their bare, mutilated bodies almost unrecognizable, but the names rolling in her head. Butcher Nathan lay broken underneath a dead horse, a musket clung in his now cold hands. Courier Felix lay alone in the burnt storage shack, all the beaver furs stolen, the sabre from his grandfather whisked out of his hands. Eli laid burning still on the campfire, Andre missed a leg, Jeremy barely had a neck, and by the time Eliza could comprehend the rest of them, she swore she saw faces of men that didn't look familiar in the slightest. After awhile, all she could see was red, and before the preteen knew it, she keeled over, emptying her stomach on a small part of wilderness that she and many others of the Hudson Bay Company called home.
"But you know it, Daniel, the Hudson found me months ago. Now I know you don't like me bein' here, but you know well that I don't got a choice in the matter and I dun proved my worth here. Hell none of you ol' men doesn't know how to cook a rabbit for godsake, yet you can fight and skin bears? It isn't fair."
Isolation and dread coursed through the child's heart, frantically looking left and right, the preteen sniffling and convulsing. For a second time, she escaped the parade of Death, first her village by the Sioux, and now, the Hudson. Looking over at the bodies once more, she saw one face missing from the thirty- a face she knew far too well for two months. Staring down briefly, she brushed her hand against the muddy outline of a boot, raising her head to follow the fading path. Hope, however faint and futile, blossomed, Eliza staring over at the titans of oak that loomed ahead as harbingers of truth. Stumbling over herself, taking one step after the other, the French trembled, wandering into the woods, following the footsteps of a grenadier.
"I…I know Eliza."
She trudged through the woods, one step after the other, seeing the footprints grow more distinct, pearly bits of white snow beginning to fall, an unusually cold day in summer. The snow wouldn't stick- Eliza knew it wasn't cold enough. But, the white pearls descending from the grey mist above left an uneasy feeling in her bosom.
"Look, I'll tell you what, I thought 'bout going back Ol' England to see my niece."
Up and down she voyaged through the green and brown sea, past creaks, under fallen giants of lumber, following the steps of a regimented soldier marching away. A soft smile crept on her face, a sad remembrance of how the grenadier had saved her from being the amusement of the Sioux.
"After fightin' the Yankees at Queenston, I lost my wife and sons to the Shivers."
The sun above her begun to shine fully, peering through the falling leaves, Eliza pushing through rows and rows of bushes, arriving onto a clearing within the heart of the woodlands. Her smile of yore instantly faded.
"She is the only person I got left in the family, and they say she can't make a child."
Fabrics of red and white lay before her, stiff and nearly untouched. Propped up against the tree, she saw the old grenadier in harmony. She couldn't tell if blood was on the redcoat or not, all she could see is the eerily uneasy face of an old man smiling in his eternal slumber, his old "Baker Rattler" resting in his arms like a babe, the bayoneted rifle having seen years of service. Yet, just like its master, it now rested, sound and quiet, not even the chirping of birds or the cawing of buzzards in the air. Approaching the elder slowly, Eliza calmly sat down to her knees, reaching over to brush her hand against the cold, whisky cheek. No tears fell, no sorrow expressed, only the unbearable sound of silence- the sound of the last trapper, not a grizzly man, but a lone frontier girl.
"So, and I know this all so fast for you, but how would you feel like living with her? I'll be there, you'll be living like a proper girl. It'll be a new start for you. I promise you, Eliza, I promise to help you in some way when this is all set and done. Just think on it, okay? Now, c'mon on, lets go get some water by the river."
"You are a liar, Daniel."
The last trapper rested her head on the chest of the dead elder, one hand on his Baker Rattler, the other balled into a fist, the dream of York forever dashed. In the faint distance, she heard the splashing of water and the cackling of men.
Her work wasn't done yet, not while she was still breathing.
---
"Yeyeye, c'mon, red-blood! Watcha ya afraid of K'Patchew? Cold water gonna make yer devil skin crawl? Savages like you should be used to it, am I right boys?!"
Drunk and intoxicated were those of the American Fur Company, riled on up whiskey and hubris. Today had been a very, very good day of scavenging, having had a wonderful run-in with the Hudson Bay Company. The two companies had brewed an uneasy competition to one another, competing for the beavers and deer that were beginning to retreat further and further away. Such fierce competition, fueled by disgruntled feelings from a war not long ago, set the stage for the dance of violence.
Emerging from the Red River, a bearded, young man stood, at six feet with ginger hair all around, his family hailing from southern Ireland. With a sabre strapped to his waist, the self-proclaimed captain unsheathed a sword that did not belong to him by title, but by sheer brute force. The degenerate, no better than the common bandit, laughed heartily with the five other men in the deep river, gazing around his compatriots, the reminder of his band reduced to only eight counting causalities and desertion.
"N-Now 'ere me boys! I want ye' all to know how damn proud I am all of ye!" he started, waving about the sabre, smashing it against the water, drunk both in body and in mind. "Those fockin' Sassenaches deserved it, the Crown been puttin' you and me down for a loong, looong time! I don't want any of you, nor you Redskin, feelin' sorry for w-what we did! The furs is what matters, and if that means I kill me some Frenchies and Crownies then by Saint Mary I w-!"
A dash of smoke exploded behind the red-faced, red-haired murderer from across the Red River, the whiz of a lead ball soaring into the air, crashing into the back of his bare chest. Like a right hand of karmic justice, the sword and man fell into the river, two Yankees flailing to catch their captain as he drifted away. The rest of the brigands stared in horror across the river, seeing in the treeline a musket poking from the bushes. Unarmed and away from encampment, they struggled and flailed to get out of the river, tripping over the stones. One man, in all of his panic, fell completely, whisked away by the currents of the mighty river.
Another shot rang out, hitting a man in his stomach, keeling over onto sharp rocks and sand, holding his crimson by the Red River. The Sioux, a native elder having seen this display time and time again, tighten his expression, dusting his hands off and strapping to his eerily calm horse. Without so much a glance away, he rode off mysteriously, as if freed from some invisible contract. From the treeline, two Mountain Men rushed from their encampment, carrying with them a bundle of muskets alike, throwing them to remaining two fur-bandits.
"Where those shots at, Gerald?"
"I don't fockin' know Henry, shoot at dem' bushes over there I see a musket pokin' through em'!"
The Yankees haphazardly loaded their shoddy muskets, drunk and faltering, only the adrenaline in their bodies keeping them coherent. Unloading fire into the bushes across the river, the musket in the bushes afar didn't flinch in the slightest, however another shot rang out directly left of it, moreso near the trees. Accurate and precise, clearly a rifle rather than a musket, it soared across the Red River, striking one Yankee in the chest, dead before he even knew what his last thoughts were.
"U-Ugh, f-fuck this, fuck t-this! Lets git outta 'ere boys, we need to get back to Fort Kiowa! I ain't dying in these woods!"
The few Yankees that remained, terrified and worn, retreated back on their side of the river. Among all the shouts and screams, the cries and the groans, an uneasy silence of nature fell onto the world, the birds and buzzards alike still and awaiting for men to stop their dance.
Drunk and intoxicated were those of the American Fur Company, riled on up whiskey and hubris. Today had been a very, very good day of scavenging, having had a wonderful run-in with the Hudson Bay Company. The two companies had brewed an uneasy competition to one another, competing for the beavers and deer that were beginning to retreat further and further away. Such fierce competition, fueled by disgruntled feelings from a war not long ago, set the stage for the dance of violence.
Emerging from the Red River, a bearded, young man stood, at six feet with ginger hair all around, his family hailing from southern Ireland. With a sabre strapped to his waist, the self-proclaimed captain unsheathed a sword that did not belong to him by title, but by sheer brute force. The degenerate, no better than the common bandit, laughed heartily with the five other men in the deep river, gazing around his compatriots, the reminder of his band reduced to only eight counting causalities and desertion.
"N-Now 'ere me boys! I want ye' all to know how damn proud I am all of ye!" he started, waving about the sabre, smashing it against the water, drunk both in body and in mind. "Those fockin' Sassenaches deserved it, the Crown been puttin' you and me down for a loong, looong time! I don't want any of you, nor you Redskin, feelin' sorry for w-what we did! The furs is what matters, and if that means I kill me some Frenchies and Crownies then by Saint Mary I w-!"
A dash of smoke exploded behind the red-faced, red-haired murderer from across the Red River, the whiz of a lead ball soaring into the air, crashing into the back of his bare chest. Like a right hand of karmic justice, the sword and man fell into the river, two Yankees flailing to catch their captain as he drifted away. The rest of the brigands stared in horror across the river, seeing in the treeline a musket poking from the bushes. Unarmed and away from encampment, they struggled and flailed to get out of the river, tripping over the stones. One man, in all of his panic, fell completely, whisked away by the currents of the mighty river.
Another shot rang out, hitting a man in his stomach, keeling over onto sharp rocks and sand, holding his crimson by the Red River. The Sioux, a native elder having seen this display time and time again, tighten his expression, dusting his hands off and strapping to his eerily calm horse. Without so much a glance away, he rode off mysteriously, as if freed from some invisible contract. From the treeline, two Mountain Men rushed from their encampment, carrying with them a bundle of muskets alike, throwing them to remaining two fur-bandits.
"Where those shots at, Gerald?"
"I don't fockin' know Henry, shoot at dem' bushes over there I see a musket pokin' through em'!"
The Yankees haphazardly loaded their shoddy muskets, drunk and faltering, only the adrenaline in their bodies keeping them coherent. Unloading fire into the bushes across the river, the musket in the bushes afar didn't flinch in the slightest, however another shot rang out directly left of it, moreso near the trees. Accurate and precise, clearly a rifle rather than a musket, it soared across the Red River, striking one Yankee in the chest, dead before he even knew what his last thoughts were.
"U-Ugh, f-fuck this, fuck t-this! Lets git outta 'ere boys, we need to get back to Fort Kiowa! I ain't dying in these woods!"
The few Yankees that remained, terrified and worn, retreated back on their side of the river. Among all the shouts and screams, the cries and the groans, an uneasy silence of nature fell onto the world, the birds and buzzards alike still and awaiting for men to stop their dance.
---
"Uh...ah...a...h..."
Her shoulders ached, thanking her father silently for teaching her how to fire a gun back on the frontier. For her fourth or so time around, Eliza did well, and if she more resources to her she would continue to do it. The Hudson was her home, and unlike the Sioux, she sought to see that home had its fair share of justice. However, such pursuit of retribution comes at the most deadliest of prices, as evidence by her bleeding right thigh. Stumbling through the woods, using the Baker Rattler as a crutch, the petite teenager approached the coastline of the Red River.
Unable to hold herself anymore, Eliza fell on her back, the cushion of that fur coat Daniel made her stopping the feeling of sharp rocks digging into her back. Panting and wheezing, the young teenager groaned and twitched, her hands balling into fists, eyes of blue fluttering against darkening skies.
"I-I w-wanna go to York..."
She rasped once again, feeling the waters of the river grow closer to her, blood flowing freely from her thigh.
"I-I...wanna...g-go to..."
A weight bore at her, pulling her onto her feet, seeing what looked like the face of Daniel hovering over her, yet his skin having a tinge of red. Feeling the hide of a horse, the last trapper began to slip in-and-out of consciousness her world a fading blur.
"I...w-wanna...go..."
Eliza fell unconscious, and in her dreams of solace, the young lady dreamed of York.
Her shoulders ached, thanking her father silently for teaching her how to fire a gun back on the frontier. For her fourth or so time around, Eliza did well, and if she more resources to her she would continue to do it. The Hudson was her home, and unlike the Sioux, she sought to see that home had its fair share of justice. However, such pursuit of retribution comes at the most deadliest of prices, as evidence by her bleeding right thigh. Stumbling through the woods, using the Baker Rattler as a crutch, the petite teenager approached the coastline of the Red River.
Unable to hold herself anymore, Eliza fell on her back, the cushion of that fur coat Daniel made her stopping the feeling of sharp rocks digging into her back. Panting and wheezing, the young teenager groaned and twitched, her hands balling into fists, eyes of blue fluttering against darkening skies.
"I-I w-wanna go to York..."
She rasped once again, feeling the waters of the river grow closer to her, blood flowing freely from her thigh.
"I-I...wanna...g-go to..."
A weight bore at her, pulling her onto her feet, seeing what looked like the face of Daniel hovering over her, yet his skin having a tinge of red. Feeling the hide of a horse, the last trapper began to slip in-and-out of consciousness her world a fading blur.
"I...w-wanna...go..."
Eliza fell unconscious, and in her dreams of solace, the young lady dreamed of York.
The First Mission
The Adventurers of Jellya Krren
Young, Bold & Reckless In Space
The Adventurers of Jellya Krren
Young, Bold & Reckless In Space
A certain solar system near Sol, orbit of Nssry, "Deryu" Orbital Complex, Galactic Peacekeeper Branch HQ, Personal Quarters
I was walking towards the mess hall when my comm device notified me that someone was calling me. I answered the call and could immediately recognize the voice of my boss's assistant AI: "Cadet Officer Krren, please report to Major Dyyr inside one galactic cycle." "Looks like lunch will have to wait," I thought to myself and changed my direction towards my commander's office. I was there roughly half a cycle later that I reached the entrance to Major's office and was greeted by the nanographic representation of Major's assistant AI. The cloud of nanobots that made up this representation was currently simulating the appearance of a young female Jaddean. I returned the greeting and entered the doors. Majot Jyyd Dyyr was an old, battle-scared Jaddean and a veteran of the Jaddea-Kudis War. Just like all Jaddeans he had their distinctive cat-like features – the ears, eyes, tail and fur, trough their coloration was not something you could naturally see on a cat – the fur was red with green spots while the eyes were somewhere between teal and lime.
The Major spoke up as soon as the doors closed while at the same time turning on the nanoprojector in the room: "You are here Cadet Officer Jellya Krren. Let me give you a quick briefing." As he went on talking the nanographics started showing telemetry from an automated drone: "Three spins ago a routine scouting of Ynnes, or Earth how do the locals call it, found out a that a heavily-damaged Hudde battle group was in the process of invading the planet, which we believe started roughly four spins ago. Unfortunately I and the Peacekeepers are extremely short-handed in this region of space – all active agents are busy with other operations. I got approval from central HQ so I am promoting you to Private Second Class and temporally granting you the rank of Field Agent. You are to take one of the Protector suits and a Guardian craft and deal with the Hudde. Try solving it peacefully, but you are authorized to use lethal force if they engage you or refuse to comply. Any question?" I responded: "No sir! Private Krren will now prepare to move out!" "Good, be ready to move out inside half a tick," the Major finished, but as I left the room, added: "And good luck Private." The doors closed behind me and I rushed to get to the hangar bay…
… after finishing giving the instructions to the mechanics on how to prepare the Protector and Guardian that I have been granted usage for this mission I took my time eating a nice meal and packing up some reserve clothing and some other things I might need. After making a stop in the armory to get an Uddre laser pistol for myself I returned to the hangar where the Protector suit was waiting next to the Guardian starcraft. I wasted no time and entered the Protector suit. Designed by several corporations with the help of leading military experts from all over the galaxy the Protector suit was a marble of engineering. Powered from a remote power source via wireless energy transmission or by its on-board miniaturized antimatter-matter power plant, it could easily equip up to four heavier and ten smaller weapons while also producing shields that rivaled the power of most starcraft shields. Additional protection came from the smart nanoarmor that covered it and which could quickly adapt to resists attacks from almost all know weapons carried by infantry and land vehicles. The Guardian starcraft was also a fine piece of craftsmanship. Created in a similar way as the Protector suit it was several times more powerful then an ordinary starcraft and able to take on almost any smaller spaceships of recent build. After the suit closed its on-board AI greeted me: "Welcome Private Krren. This suit operating a full efficiency and is ready for combat." I didn't waste time in responding and quickly moved to enter the Guardian's cockpit. After doing the standard check on both the suit and the craft I risen the craft from the hangar's floor, as its doors opened. I flew out of the station and followed the navigational instructions for leaving the orbital space of Nssry…
Roughly two thirds of a spin later, near Neptune's orbit.
After entering the system I was making good progress and when I neared the orbit of the furthest planet of this system, a deep-blue gas giant, my sensors picked up the Hudde ships hurdled around the only moon of Ynnes. It made me wonder why they weren't conducting orbital bombardment of the planet so I bought up the information about Ynnes that we had. And just looking at their technological level was enough to give me the reason – the locals, which called themselves "Humans" and looked similar to my own race, the Atuye, possessed thermonuclear weapons. If they had enough of those they would be able to inflict serious losses to a Hudde fleet, since the Hudde had only rudimentary shield technology. Well I guess I will have to deal with the Hudde ships first and then see the situation on the ground...
A bit later, roughly half an AU from Earth.
They finally noticed my Protector and started to deploy into battle formation against me. Well to bad that will not work since my craft heavily outclasses any Hudde warship. I was the first to gain firing solutions on the Hudde, but waited, sending messages to them to stand down and prepare to be taken into custody. They didn't respond and since they starred firing at me once I was in their range I returned fire, spraying high-energy lasers and bolts of super-accelerated, super-heated plasma on them.
As one of the last ships went up in flames suddenly a bolt of highly energetic plasma hit the craft, penetrating the shields and tearing a hole in my main power node. A quick glance on the sensors revealed a Leddus destroyer that remained hidden on the moon until now. Now that was something that outclassed my craft, especially after I lost a third of the craft's power management systems. I quickly turned engines and shields to maximum, turned on jamming, started sending a distress signal, set the AI to electronic warfare and deployed several active and passive decoys as I accelerated to max speed while changing my course towards the planet.
Scanning the situation on the surface as I rushed towards it, it was revealed that the locals were putting up one hell of a fight against the Hudde, despite the initial Hudde orbital bombardment destroying or damaging a fair amount of their military assets and key infrastructure. I identified key Hudde field HQs and forward facilities as I lowered my orbit and launched plasma bolts on them, scorching them to nothing. Finally I imputed instructions for the craft to go into the planet's largest ocean while keeping silent, while I prepared to jump out over one of the planet's landmasses. As the craft descended towards the Pacific Ocean I opened the cockpit and rolled out, allowing gravity to plummet me towards the ground while the Guardian closed the cockpit and flew on.
Lest then a cycle later I could see a city in flames with occasional flashes as the Hudde and locals exchanged fire with each other. Adjusting my descent I landed on a Hudde landcrawler, turning it into old scrap and gaining the attention of every Hudde in the area. Without wasting any time my suit locked on the Hudde and started spewing fire with the shoulder and leg mounted lasers while I used my arm-mounted guns to mow down Hudde vehicles. After dealing with most of the Hudde in this area I moved on, slowly attacking Hudde frontlines until they started retreating.
With that done I moved towards one the human landcrawlers, which at a glance looked impressive and with a scan was confirmed to be an engineering masterpiece of their technology. I ordered the suit to "roll" back my "helmet" while keeping an eye on the locals. I sat down next to a destroyed Hudde landcrawler and said nothing until one of the locals gathered courage and asked: "Um, who are you? Are you an alien invader to?" I answered: "I am Private Second Class Jellya Krren, Galactic Peacekeepers. Here to deal with the Hudde, or how you said alien invaders. And I am an alien if you must ask." At that he stood there baffled. Another soldier asked: "So miss Karen? Kreen? Peacekeeper? How do you plan to do that?" I answered: "Well, not sure. I was engaged by an unpredicted enemy after I destroyed most of the Hudde spaceships. My craft took damage and will probably need time to repair. I sent out a message but who knows if it will reach anyone and then it is not sure that help will be sent. I guess that making their land assault fail would work for now, but that will take a bit of time. I guess I might even celebrate my thirteenth standard here." Some of the soldiers gave me a weird look, but I didn't care and said: "Well rest is over, time to get back to work."
Just as I said those words something rained down from the sky, landing in the area around my current position, causing the ground to shake. There was only one thing that did that and those were drop pods with troops. "Leddus special forces damn it," I squeezed trough my mouth as I "rolled" my "helmet" back over my head. "Get the hell out of here humans, those are foes that you can't hope to match just with tactics and tendency" I said to the forces of the locals as my sensors showed several enemies converging on my position. After a quick discussion the humans pulled out just a moment before the first suit-clad Ledd opened fire on me. I ducked behind a destroyed landcrawler, knowing well how Leddus SF operated. I aimed at one part of the sky and like expected a Ledd popped up there only to be blasted to oblivion with plasma. I moved on, just in time to evade the barrage of missiles hitting my previous cover. I run into a building, using the walls and columns to evade fire while taking snapshots at the Leddus soldiers, but since I didn't manage to get a clear shot at any of them I still had to face all fifteen of them. Then one of the Leddus was hit with a human anti-crawler missile and when he turned to return fire I took the opportunity to turn him into molten Ledd. Then next one fell to a booby trap I set using an antimatter grenade. After that I had to jump from this building to the next one, a moment befre a massive blast of plasma from space struck the one in which I was. It was close, but I knew that the humans would not waste the chance and my long-range sensor confirmed the launch of several rockets full of termnuclear warheads towards the Leddus destroyer. Not enough to destroy it, but it will probably make it retreat to a safe distance.
The humans were the one to take down the next Ledd using a barrage of missiles from a VTOL rotorcraft to bring it down to the ground and then using demolition charges to collapse two buildings on him, burying the Ledd alive. The next two were taken down by me when they descended to help the buried Ledd. Now there was only ten left and I could risk a bit more. The next one fell in a gunfight with me, trough he managed to take out a fair amount of strength out of my shield. The one after him was surprised with a shot trough the window that came after I broke trough a thick wall. Three were taken down when a tactical nuclear missile hit them, with two more sustaining damage from the blast and retreating. That left three more.
I took care of two more in tense gunfights, emptying my shields and having to face one last one. Finally I managed to get him in my sights when a massive explosion hit the city. A massive blast wave lifted me of the ground and as the suit did its best to prevent the acceleration from killing me I lost consciousnesses…
Unknown time later, somewhere
… I was woken by a splash of cold liquid. As my senses returned to normal I started to hear voices and focus my vision. Finally my hearing could make out words.
"Is she awake?" "Not completely lord." "Why is she taking so long?" "She barely survived a blast wave from an antimatter explosion lord. It is amazing that she is basically uninjured at all."
Finally with those few last words I completely regained vision. What I could see was a command bridge of a Leddus destroyer, albeit dressed up all gaudy and grandiose like some medieval palace. I myself was kneeing, hands bound by cuffs, some two meters from the captain's seat, trough it looked more like a throne then a seat. The seat was occupied by probably the fattest and ugliest creature I ever saw, trough it quickly came to me that I was looking at an Yrudian. Vile and evil, the Yrudians were once rulers of the galaxy but after the Great Galactic Rebellion disappeared back into the Magellanic Clouds. The Yrudian spoke: "Glad to have you on my ship Private Krren. I am surprised to see someone as young as you as an agent in the Peacekeepers. Only twelve and half standards old, the Peacekeepers must be really short on personnel. Well I hope you will enjoy your stay. We will have many days of fun together. I really need to properly reward you for screwing up my plans with that little planet. But I guess we will have time to talk about that later." "Over my dead body slime," I said back at which it risen on of its tentacle-like limbs and struck me with it, lunging me to the floor, which I hit with my side and said: "I control your life girl so you better show me respect or I will end it." "I will show you respect when you stop being a evil, slime-covered bastard. Also kill me all I care. You will have the whole Peacekeepers after your ass if you do," I responded. At which he slammed me with the limb again while responding: "I doubt anyone will be coming after you since we are almost ready to turn that planet and everything on it, including every last piece of evidence you being on it to nothing." "You monster," I said at that as he shouted: "Start charging the micro black hole generator!" But before a response could come the sensor officer said: "Lord! A Taklad frigate squadron has just jumped next to the fourth planet. They are coming here." "Damn them, how long we have," the Yrudian asked. Using the distraction I quickly confirmed that they didn't find my Uddre laser pistol which turned into a thin sheet of harmless-looking nanobots. As the sensor officer responded: "Two cycles at worst sir. And we need at least three to get the generator charged lord." I already made the gun appear in a position to shoot at the cuff's energy unit. I ordered the gun to fire as the Yrudian ordered: "Start charging, the remaining Hudde ships will simply have to buy for time." With a short laser burst the cuffs were rendered useless and I wasted no time to grab the laser pistol, aim it at the Yrudian's head and fire out while shouting: "Die!" As a laser beam cut a hole into his head I wasted no time to move it around and cut away a decent part of it as he screamed in agony. As the rest of the crew took to their arms I was already running while overcharging the pistol. As the first shots fired at me I run out of the bridge, tossing the pistol, taking a laser hit to the shoulder and then closed the door.
Not waiting to see if anyone on the bridge survived the explosion of the overcharged laser pistol I run on, soon catching a Ledd of guard, which allowed me to knock him out, take his plasma pistol and put a bolt of plasma into his skull. I moved on, trying to reach the hangar when the shouting voice of the Yrudian could be heard trough the ship: "The Peacekeeper bitch has escaped! Find her and bring her to me! ALIVE!" I wondered how tough was that thing to survive a part of its head being cut off with a laser and then an explosion of a overcharged laser person, while I run onward, having to put plasma bolts into several crew members, which was annoying, but increased the amount of firepower I had.
I had no way of telling how long did this running around last, but it was definitely enough time for the Taklad frigates to reach the ship and destroy the few last Hudde ships. As the ship took hits I knew they had no way of knowing I am on-board and could only enter the nearest life pod and hope for the best. Finally the Leddus destroyer was done for and started to break apart under Taklad fire. Then for some reason the destroyer fired its, by now, malfunctioning FTL drive. Usually such thing would mean death so I closed my eyes for what I thought I was the last time. But as the FTL was about to activate I could feel that familiar feeling of being teleported and thus I opened my eyes once again, standing in the teleportation room of the lead Taklad frigate. I stepped off the teleportation pad and allowed my conciseness to disappear so I could get a well-deserved rest. And thus I finished my first mission and first visit to Earth.
Terms
Timekeeping
Cycle – roughly equal to ten minutes, based on the common cycle time of an antimatter-matter plant
Spin – roughly equal to 30 Earth hours, based on the standard spin time of orbital rings
Tick – roughly equal to 2 Earth hours, based on the time needed for each tick of the Memorial Clock of the Great Galactic Revolution
Standard - roughly equal to 10 Earth months, based on the standard year of the planet where the Galactic Council (and the central Peacekeeper HQ) resides
Races
Jadde – Humanoid creatures with cat-like traits (ears, eyes, tail and fur). Males are usually slightly taller then females with the average height being 180cm (~6 feet)
Hudde – A race of fast-reproducing humanoid insect from a tropical planet. Commonly employed as mercenaries trough out the galaxy. Height ranges depending on planet of origin, but originally their average height is 176cm (~5 feet, 10 inches).
Atuye – Human-like humanoids. The main difference is the "extra hair" that grows on the chests of males and at chest-height of the back of the females. Their hair color is also usually in the white-yellow-red specter with eye color being in the amber-red-brown range.
Ledd – Reptilian humanoids. Like war and violence so they are commonly seen as mercenaries, pirates and so on. Average 160cm in height (~5 feet, 4 inches)
Takl – Humanoids with cow-like features. The aggressive, violent males and calm, relaxed females counterbalance each other allowing the country to be a powerful force in all fields and one of the key contributors to the Galactic Peacekeepers. Females are usually 50cm (~20 inches) shorter then the males which average at 213cm (~7 feet, 1 inch)
Yrudian - Yrudians take many forms and have extremely varied sizes and shapes, trough they are share two main features - multiple tentacle-like limbs and being covered with a protective slime. For many millennia the Yrudians ruled the galaxy with an iron first until they were removed from power in the Great Galactic Revolution and retreated to their home land in the Magellanic Clouds. They haven't appeared for almost two millennia until the First Ynnes/Earth Incident.
Other
Nanographic – A 3D graphical representation made using nanobots
Nanoprojector – A device which stores and controls nanobots which are used for creating Nanographics
Uddre ANM I laser pistol – Know also only as a Uddre, a revolutionary laser pistol from Uddre Nanoweapons, which is 100% made out of nanomaterial allowing it to turn into seemingly harmless things like clothing. It even fools all but the most advanced nanobot examining devices, thus being a favorite of undercover agents. But it is expensive so it is hardly available to criminals or regular citizens
Guardian MkI A – The next-generation battle suit of the Peacekeepers, several times more powerful (and expensive) then any other suit in standardized use by any organization
Protector MkI A – The next-generation spacecraft of the Peacekeepers, able to tackle pretty much anything smaller then a destroyer on its own and in a one on one fight
Landcrawler/Crawler – A term for any tracked land vehicle, trough primary used for military tracked vehicles like tanks and APCs
Micro Black Hole Generator – An anti-planetary weapon of mass destruction and number one banned weapon by the Peacekeepers. Works by creating a black hole of small size, just enough to destroy the targeted planet/moon, using the vast amounts of energy that spaceships generate with that antimatter-matter power plants.
Of course the Major later chewed me out for losing the suit. Figures.
A Date with a Time Traveler
Fitted for the Naive Everygirl trope.
Before we start off this little story, I feel the need to drop a small bombshell on you so that it'll make just a bit more sense. Ready? Okay. Here we go.
I'm a time traveler.
Well, I suppose more specifically, I'm a "time messenger." People these days urge a real difference between the two for some reason.
If you want to get down and dirty, a time messenger like me is someone who... well, travels through time (usually to the past) to deliver something. Could be anything, really. Just as long as it's legal. And doesn't end up screwing up the timeline too much. We got things to check for that. I mean, I could bore you with the even finer details of it, like what constitutes as "legal" when the usage of time travel technology is involved, how the process works, how and why the business became as lucrative as it did, when and who invented time travel, and other stuff like that, but... that's on a need-to-know basis. And you don't really need to know, do you?
All that you really need to know is that indeed, I'm a time messenger, and... I suppose you could say I was on a job. I had an obligation to fulfill, rather, so I traveled to thirteen years into the past. The past of 2144 A.D.
And there, I met a woman whom I absolutely needed to meet.
- - -
The outdoor markets were as bustling and hectic as ever.
It was an assault to all the senses. The ears were met with all sorts of sounds, from idle conversations from the fellow customers to the beckoning calls of the vendors. The nose was greeted by all sorts of fragrances, from tantalizing perfumes to all sorts of varied foods, fresh or not. And of course, the eyes were met by all sorts of sights, from the people of all sorts of different skin tones, clothing, and what have you, to the many items being sold.
In short, hardly a dull moment to be found in this busy market. After all, it was the middle of the afternoon.
And in the midst of the tireless crowd walked a young woman. Though she had a youthful look to her face, complemented by almost naturally wide eyes and a thin complexion, she was actually a bit older than what many would assume. The big three-o. She had recently hit 30 years old, and yet her youthful appearance, as well as her choice of clothing (a somewhat loose-fitting, long-sleeved white button-up shirt and a frilled black skirt), would have people around to still believe her to be a schoolgirl. It also didn't help how mousy she came off, her aforementioned wide-eyed expression in turn going well with her short and slim stature, her arms little thicker than the chopsticks that sat in her chestnut hair and seemed to fasten the bun in it, and her height no more than 5'3.
In short, if the message had not been properly conveyed before, it was a miracle that a woman of 30 was as small and almost childlike as she was, but here she was.
Now, this young woman, like the rest of the customers about, was just here to shop for groceries, presently only holding a modestly sized bag of apples and other fruits behind her back, the plastic bag swaying carelessly in the air like a pendulum, her walking as calm and constant as the easy waves of the ocean. Her attention was fixated on all the vendors that occupied the sides, wondering what else she ought to buy. Hmm... Definitely need to get some more bread and eggs. Maybe some fish would be good for dinner tonight? Or beef! Or both? Wait, was that crawfish?! Oh, those had become so rare these days! And... lobster, even? Oh, she just had to have it all!
Bump!
"W-Wha--?"
She was so absorbed in all the foods she could possibly buy for dinner later today that she didn't notice the fairly large man in front of her, whom she'd accidentally bump into so harshly that she'd end up falling back on her behind with a resounding "Oof!" and a subsequent "Hey!" from the man, the bump having caused him to spill some of the drink he held in his hand onto his shirt.
The large man, sporting an almost comically large mustache, turned around and looked down at the comparatively mousy girl, his towering figure imposing quite a bit over her as he'd give a less than friendly look.
"Watch where you're goin', dumb girl!"
"Eek, I'm so, so sorry!" The woman gasped, akin to that of an intimidated schoolgirl.
"Tch... You're lucky you've got a cute face, little girl, or I woulda decked you good," The man, little more than irritated and evidently put into a sour mood if he wasn't before because of his dirtied shirt, would decide to walk off and continue about his business, leaving the woman by herself as she'd puff her cheeks cutely with a "Humph!" as her earlier embarrassed mood seemed to dissipate in an instant, replaced by discontent.
"Little girl...?! Jeez, just because he's all big and tall like that...!"
He didn't have the courtesy to help her pick up her things! Granted, she was the one who caused all this, but still! What kind of person called himself a man and left a lady to handle herself?! But that was fine, that was fine! She didn't need any overly polite knight in shining armor to help her around! With that, the woman would gather her bearings and attempt to recover her dropped items, which thankfully considered little more than fresh apples that didn't seem too perturbed by the ground that they had landed on. It was then, however, that she'd stop when an unfamiliar male voice would clear his throat behind her, and then speak.
"Excuse me, ma'am... Are you alright? Do you need any help?"
"?"
With a blink, the woman would look up, finding herself sitting in front of a young man, likely just a few years younger than her. With a benign smile, as well as gentle hazel eyes that seemed to mirror her own blue eyes, he held out his arm to her, offering a hand. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. All of the woman's irritation earlier had practically evaporated and been replaced by a grateful mien that resulted in her being unable to resist giving a smile back, and in no time, it was as though she were back to her original cheery self as she'd shake her head, gathering the last of the stray apples and taking a hold of his hand to help herself back up.
"N-No, I'm fine. Thank you though," she spoke gratefully, patting herself off before looking at the young man before her, "I guess that's just what happens when I stop paying attention, huh?"
"Ah, don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us," the young man laughed good-naturedly, running a hand through his raven hair as he did so, before speaking again, "You sure you're alright? Pretty good fall you had there, miss."
"Oh, no, I'm good... Really! Fit as a fiddle! In fact, I'm as good as ever, so you don't have to worry about a thing, mister!" The woman exclaimed in a practically obviously forced display of enthusiasm, as she clearly didn't want the man worrying too much on her account, though... While other people in her position might just want to get this stranger out of their hair, she was more genuinely trying to make sure he didn't occupy his own time worrying for her.
…
Grrrroowwwl.
Of course, all that backfired when the low rumbling of her stomach, embarrassingly enough, would ring out, stating quite the contrary. The woman paled, the color comically draining from her face as though she had become mortified, while the young man pursed his lips in a way that made it evident that he was holding back a laughter, before he'd get that out of his system by clearing his throat, beginning to speak again as his arm was still stretched out to her.
"... So, lunch then?"
- - -
"Ahaha, no, no! It's not like that! I just bought all these apples because I saw that they were on sale, and I figured that I may as well make a pie out of them."
"Then... In that case, if you didn't go out with the intention of making apple pie to begin with, then you wanted to buy other stuff too, right?"
"..."
Moment of realization.
Gasp.
"Oh, no! I forgot to buy the oranges and the bread, and—and the eggs, and the—!"
"Hey, hey, don't worry about it! You can always go back to that place," the young man spoke reassuringly, continuing to smile at her. Away from the marketplace, the two individuals now were seated at a cafe, specifically sitting out at one of the outside tables, as it seemed to be the nearest place where one could sit down and order a meal to enjoy. Left with waiting for their orders to arrive, having made them just a minute prior, the two of them conversed happily enough, "But shopping on an empty stomach isn't something you should make a habit of, Miss... Uh, you know, it just occurred to me, I don't think I actually caught your name."
"Oh, I guess you haven't. Guess we forgot that part, huh? Well, my name's Celeste. Celeste Khron," the cheerful woman finally introduced herself without hesitation, before tilting her head and gazing upon the man again that only continued to be eerily familiar to her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. May as well ask. Better now than ever if they were doing introductions now, "On that note, who might you even be? I feel like... We've met before, but it's a complete blur. I'm really sorry if you're some old friend I forgot about!" She apologized profusely, clapping her hands together as though praying for forgiveness, despite no claim of hers even being confirmed just yet.
Still, if nothing else, this sort of personality only garnered a cordial chuckle from the young man, who only shook his head. "No, no... I'm just a stranger passing by. Oh, and... You can call me Lucas," the young man would introduce himself in turn, smooth as glass, but not quite as transparent.
Celeste became silent for a good second, before letting out a small giggle, causing Lucas to raise an eyebrow, a silent gesture of asking what was so funny. Upon calming down quickly, she'd look upon him and take a breath. "Oh... Lucas, is it? What a coincidence! That's my son's name! Or... Well, more like his middle name to be exact."
Well, then. Now, that was a bombshell to drop.
"W... Wait, huh? You got a kid? You can't be that old, so... Would that mean... That you're... Uh, well...?"
"H-Huh?" Celeste inquired with wide eyes, tilting her head slightly as she wondered what the young man who introduced himself as Lucas was trying to imply, before it hit her like a brick wall, and her face flushed in an instant, "How rude! Are you implying that I... I'm some sort of hussy?!" Celeste inquired, seeming to take offense at whatever she believed him to be implying.
"I mean, you did say yes to a complete stranger offering to have lunch with you," Lucas spoke. He was well aware that him asking to eat with her, like they were going out on some blind date, was perhaps strange of him to begin with, but it wasn't... completely his fault, right? "Who knows what a stranger intends to do with pretty women? Especially those who give off the helpless schoolgirl vibe, if you catch my drift," he teased.
"H-Helpless schoolgirl?!" She couldn't believe what she had just heard! "I'll have you know that I just turned 30, so it's not even that bad! W-Wait... A-Are you one of those strangers who wants to do something bad to me?!""
Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms skeptically at her initial words, before shaking his head and sighing at her later ones. Well, she certainly didn't act her age, that was for sure.
"What do you think? Jeez... Normally, women would be more reluctant and embarrassed to drop their age like that..." The younger man murmured underneath his breath, but lo and behold, the childlike woman had ears like that of an elephant. They even almost twitched a little, as though his words elicited such a physical reaction from her.
"W-What's there to be embarrassed about?!"
"Nothing, nothing... In any case, so if you're 30, how old's your kid anyway? 4? 5?" Lucas would inquire just as a waiter would come over and set down two glasses of water on their table. Feeling a little parched, he reached over and took a sip of his water.
"U-Um... 13," Celeste meekly replied.
"PFFFFT—What?!" Lucas exclaimed with great surprise, now his time to show off wide eyes as he nearly spit out his water. Well, he did spit out a little, though he'd managed to drink most of it before he did, "And you got so mad at me earlier for—!"
"No, no, hear me out, it's not like that! Jeeez, stop jumping to conclusions!" Celeste exclaimed, almost beginning to blush again, before composing herself quickly and continuing to talk, "See, my son, he's... actually adopted. So he's not... really my child, but I love him as if he were," she spoke from the heart, a small genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she thought on her child, like the thought of him seemed to erase any previous feeling of embarrassment she'd had a moment earlier.
She certainly seemed to be prone to switching between moods easily.
"See... I used to have a husband. We loved each other, or so we thought, but it was probably just... the passions of youth. We met when we were teenagers and ended up marrying by the time I was 24, but it didn't last. He was really excited to settle down and start a family with me, something about being really eager to bring a new family member into this world, but..." Celeste paused for a brief moment, her smile turning somewhat melancholy, as did her eyes, which gave off a more distant look suddenly, "He... left me pretty quickly. He just couldn't really handle it when he found out that... I couldn't... It turned out I wasn't able to... Y'know... conceive."
Lucas's carefree attitude quickly shifted when Celeste would reveal details about herself rather unexpectedly, giving her a frown and a comforting hand to touch hers, providing a warm touch to hands that were already warm. Gentle and soft, like a young mother indeed.
"I'm... sorry to hear that. I... I really shouldn't have..."
"No, no, it's okay!" Celeste said with a slightly brighter tone in her voice, shaking her head as she'd clear her throat and her smile would widen a bit more, becoming a bit more sheepish, "I suppose I'm not really supposed to say this sort of stuff, especially to people I just met, but... I dunno. I guess I just wanted to let someone outside of my family know. It's just... It's funny, you know? I can't even really be angry with that man, even if he did leave me. We just... made a lot of mistakes together, but that's okay. It's good to make mistakes. They're things to learn from, to... to look back upon, to remind ourselves of a time when we were less savvy of how the world works. And one of those mistakes he made was... He wanted too much too quickly, but then, don't a lot of people? I tried getting him to consider adopting a kid with me, but he was really insistent on it being related to us biological. I didn't think it mattered personally, as long as we loved our child just like it was our own, but he wouldn't have any of it, so he left. And I was alone."
"..."
Lucas kept silent while Celeste spoke, invested in her story, and he didn't dare to interrupt her for anything, letting the woman continue speaking as he continued to hold on to her hands. Truly, any bystander would never suspect that they were practical strangers on a "first date," but... Well, she didn't seem uncomfortable, and neither did he. It felt... nice. Natural. Nostalgic, even. Of a time when he...
"So, even after he left me, I decided to adopt a child. I figured... The world has too many people in it anyway, and a lot of them aren't fortunate enough to have parents who wanted to keep them, so I decided... I would take away the pain of a child who was alive and well, yet had been abandoned, just as I had. I mean, I didn't adopt him just to cope with loneliness or anything. I really grew to love him, as I expected myself to. And I think, in his own little way, he loves me the same. Even if he tries to hide it and won't even call me Mom," she almost seemed to giggle, her spirits lifted up a tad, before suddenly, her eyes would widen and she'd blink in surprise, pulling away from Lucas's hands, if only through a reflexive instinct more than anything, "Oh... I'm sorry, I ended up telling all about my personal life to you, a stranger. I guess I really do talk too much, huh?" She asked, playfully knocking on her temple with her fist and letting out a small, sheepish chuckle.
"No, no, it's fine, really!" Lucas insisted, attempting to defuse her awkwardness, though before he could say much more, the waiter would appear and drop off their orders, which consisted of little more than sandwiches and coffee. Not too bad for a cafe, but... Well, anyway.
Lucas kept silent for the most part, waiting for the waiter to go away, though it was a tad annoying, given how chatty he was, making a joke about how touchy the two of them were (Oh, he noticed), which elicited quite a blush from Celeste. Lucas could never understand how a girl could look so cute while seeming bashful, but then again, she wasn't a "girl" girl, so it didn't count, right?
Once the waiter had finally left, picking up the holo-menus laid out for them in the process, much to the raven-haired man's relief, he'd clear his throat, intending to get the conversation back on track. "In any case... Ah, well..." Lucas began, letting out a sheepish chuckle, before clearing his throat, "I mean, I think you're right. You know how kids are, especially at that age. I was the same when I was younger too," he said, idly taking a few bites out of his meal.
"You mean, you were adopted too?"
"... Y-Yeah," the younger man replied, an implicit hint of hesitation in his voice for whatever reason, "I was an orphan kid too. Lived in an okay orphanage, before I was eventually adopted by a caring woman who took me in," Lucas spoke, keeping somewhat vague to a degree, though it didn't seem like Celeste noticed. Once again, it was his turn to exact a habit that Celeste had done before; in this case, giving a more nostalgic, distant look as he spoke of his past, "I... couldn't have asked for a better mother, to be honest. She was a little clumsy and naive at times, but... She was also really kind and gentle... Even when I was at my worst, it never felt like she stopped caring for me."
Celeste tilted her head slightly, finishing up her sandwich rather quickly as Lucas spoke, eyes wide with curiosity, before nodding at his words and giving a sympathetic smile. "She sure sounds like a good person. But... If I may ask, why do you look so sad talking about her?"
True enough, try as he might to hide it, it seemed that the spark of sadness that flashed in his eyes was not something the woman was blind to. Once again, Lucas hesitated to speak, but did so anyway, deciding that if he was gonna start telling a story, he may as well tell its end as well. "It's just... Well, she was so good to me, y'know? We didn't really have a lot of money to begin with, but she made do regardless. She did so much for me, and yet, I couldn't... even call her Mom," he said, his voice growing lower as he resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists, feeling a sense of blood boiling at himself, "I always acted like I was embarrassed of her, and while... while she could be weird like that, that was part of what made her... her. And then, before I knew it, she died," Lucas continued, letting that bombshell sit for a few seconds, before elaborating, averting his gaze from Celeste's look, "Hovercar accident. It was all so sudden... I didn't even bother saying that I loved her before she left to go out. My stupid kid self thought stuff like that was just too embarrassing..."
Lucas didn't have any particular difficulty fighting an urge to cry or anything, but his melancholy was quite visible. Normally, he disliked wallowing in self-pity that he had introduced to others in the first place, but... He couldn't help it. Even so, Celeste pondered what to say in order to comfort him, before finding just the thing. Or so she believed.
"I'm... so sorry to hear that. But... Hey, if I know anything about being an adoptive mother, it's that we don't pick out a child and raise them just so we can hear a "Thanks" or so. We do it because we want to love a child and nurture them, and as long as that child is happy and well, then a mother couldn't ask for more. I'm sure that even without having to say anything... Your feelings came through," Celeste stated genuinely, giving a reassuring smile.
Lucas gave pause for a good moment, thinking over her words. It was as though whatever he had led himself to believe was being challenged in the most non-confrontational way ever, but...
"Do... Do you really think so?"
"I know so. It's the same with how Isaac – That's my son's first name, by the way, Isaac – is. He may not make a habit out of saying how much he loves me, but he doesn't have to, y'know? I already know how he feels."
"How do you know that?"
"Call it... mother's intuition," Celeste gave a small giggle and a strange wink, even putting a finger up to her pink lips, as though she were (badly) trying to be some sort of whimsical.
"I see... Then, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it," Lucas responded, letting out a small chuckle.
Indeed, this Celeste Khron was a strange person, but not a bad person by any means.
Just as he remembered.
…
From there, the deep conversation about motherhood seemed to die down, and the two individuals were able to enjoy more light-hearted, trivial conversation, as they ate their food. The more peaceful exchange was certainly welcome on both sides.
Shortly after finishing her sandwich and coffee, the bill arriving and promptly being paid for in full by Lucas, Celeste would take a gander at her digital wristwatch, before letting out a small gasp. "Oh, no! I promised Isaac I'd be before sundown, and it's almost 6! Oh, dear... I'll have to go back tomorrow to get what I forgot, I suppose!" She would exclaim, abruptly bolting to her feet and gathering her things, giving Lucas a sheepish smile, "I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to get going! Unless... You'd want to come with me? Isaac may come off as shy, but—"
"Oh, no, I couldn't. Besides, one, I have some business of my own to attend to, and two... I mean, isn't it a little weird to invite someone you just met into your home?" Lucas pointed out, causing Celeste to once again obliviously tilt her head.
"Hmm? How so?"
God, she really was dense!
With an exasperated sigh, Lucas only rubbed the back of his head, before clearing his throat. "Never mind... Anyway, like I just said, I have some places I need to be myself. I'm here on business, so I'm not exactly from around here anyway."
"Oh... Then, does that mean... I won't be seeing you around?" Celeste inquired, seeming to be a bit downcast by his response.
"Ah... Unfortunately not. Once I'm done with what I need to do, I'm outta here, though I will say... I'm glad that a pretty girl accompanied me during my time here."
"B-But I'm not a little girl!" Celeste exclaimed, her face once again turning a bit red at the teasing that Lucas had put her up to, seeming to completely ignore the compliment about her appearance.
"Right, right," Lucas said with a small, good-natured laugh, before standing up as well. He waltzed over to in front of Celeste, the woman wondering what he was up to now, before his face would give a suddenly, surprisingly serious look, "Listen... Before you go, please... Take this. It's not a whole lot, but... I really wanted to give this to you," he spoke earnestly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out something rather unexpected.
A stack of credits. The total value had to stack up to at least 5,000.
Celeste couldn't believe her eyes, no matter how wide she had them go. Five thousand credits?! But... What...?!
"H-Hey, hold on... Is this some... some kind of joke? You're just... gonna give me five thousand credits, just like that?"
"Yes. I want you to have this, as a gift from me to you," Lucas said seriously, no indication of joking present in his voice. His look was almost what one could call intense, though he was perhaps just one notch below that. Continuing to hold the stack out to her, he kept on talking, "If life with a single, adoptive mother has taught me anything, it's that it's never hard. You said it yourself, right? Your husband left you, so all that you have is yourself. I want to at least give you something, if only this, to help you get by. Please... Take it."
Celeste pursed her lips, at a loss for immediate words. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't have to. Her body did the talking for her, it seemed, as her hands would shakily, yet surely, take the credits offered to her, the woman pocketing it and looking up at him.
"... Thank you," she said, her expression reverting to that of a smile in no time, "I'll never forget this kindness. Thank you so much... And goodbye."
And with that, she leaned in, gave Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek, and then ran off, leaving the younger man standing there to himself.
"... What a weirdo."
With a sigh, hardly even reacting to the kiss, Lucas would stuff his hands into his pocket once again, this time pulling out what seemed to be a small notebook of sorts, with the words "Messenger Journal" engraved in it. Easily enough, he opened it and flipped over to the last page with writing on it, taking out the pen in the rings of the notebook and scratching out what was written in it:
Name – Celeste Khron
Destination – September 8, 2144
Arriving From – September 8, 2157
Item to Deliver – 5,000 Credits
Job Assigned by – Isaac Lucas Khron
Job Assigned to – Isaac Lucas Khron
Now that Celeste had left him, the Time Messenger, Isaac Lucas Khron, felt comfortable by himself. Comfortable enough that before he knew it, tears began to well up in his eyes, drops landing on the paper as he stifled a sniffle.
It was bittersweet to see his mother again, even if in a form like that. By law, he was forbidden from directly significantly interfering with established past, so he dare not try. Still, Lucas wanted to see her one last time, and she was the same as ever.
She was exactly as expected. What a predictable woman she was. But that was what made her her after all. With a bittersweet smile, Lucas rubbed his eyes to wipe away his tears, before turning around and pocketing his journal once again, walking by himself.
"Goodbye... Mom. I love you."
He had finally said it. After all this time, he finally did it.
Fitted for the Naive Everygirl trope.
Before we start off this little story, I feel the need to drop a small bombshell on you so that it'll make just a bit more sense. Ready? Okay. Here we go.
I'm a time traveler.
Well, I suppose more specifically, I'm a "time messenger." People these days urge a real difference between the two for some reason.
If you want to get down and dirty, a time messenger like me is someone who... well, travels through time (usually to the past) to deliver something. Could be anything, really. Just as long as it's legal. And doesn't end up screwing up the timeline too much. We got things to check for that. I mean, I could bore you with the even finer details of it, like what constitutes as "legal" when the usage of time travel technology is involved, how the process works, how and why the business became as lucrative as it did, when and who invented time travel, and other stuff like that, but... that's on a need-to-know basis. And you don't really need to know, do you?
All that you really need to know is that indeed, I'm a time messenger, and... I suppose you could say I was on a job. I had an obligation to fulfill, rather, so I traveled to thirteen years into the past. The past of 2144 A.D.
And there, I met a woman whom I absolutely needed to meet.
- - -
The outdoor markets were as bustling and hectic as ever.
It was an assault to all the senses. The ears were met with all sorts of sounds, from idle conversations from the fellow customers to the beckoning calls of the vendors. The nose was greeted by all sorts of fragrances, from tantalizing perfumes to all sorts of varied foods, fresh or not. And of course, the eyes were met by all sorts of sights, from the people of all sorts of different skin tones, clothing, and what have you, to the many items being sold.
In short, hardly a dull moment to be found in this busy market. After all, it was the middle of the afternoon.
And in the midst of the tireless crowd walked a young woman. Though she had a youthful look to her face, complemented by almost naturally wide eyes and a thin complexion, she was actually a bit older than what many would assume. The big three-o. She had recently hit 30 years old, and yet her youthful appearance, as well as her choice of clothing (a somewhat loose-fitting, long-sleeved white button-up shirt and a frilled black skirt), would have people around to still believe her to be a schoolgirl. It also didn't help how mousy she came off, her aforementioned wide-eyed expression in turn going well with her short and slim stature, her arms little thicker than the chopsticks that sat in her chestnut hair and seemed to fasten the bun in it, and her height no more than 5'3.
In short, if the message had not been properly conveyed before, it was a miracle that a woman of 30 was as small and almost childlike as she was, but here she was.
Now, this young woman, like the rest of the customers about, was just here to shop for groceries, presently only holding a modestly sized bag of apples and other fruits behind her back, the plastic bag swaying carelessly in the air like a pendulum, her walking as calm and constant as the easy waves of the ocean. Her attention was fixated on all the vendors that occupied the sides, wondering what else she ought to buy. Hmm... Definitely need to get some more bread and eggs. Maybe some fish would be good for dinner tonight? Or beef! Or both? Wait, was that crawfish?! Oh, those had become so rare these days! And... lobster, even? Oh, she just had to have it all!
Bump!
"W-Wha--?"
She was so absorbed in all the foods she could possibly buy for dinner later today that she didn't notice the fairly large man in front of her, whom she'd accidentally bump into so harshly that she'd end up falling back on her behind with a resounding "Oof!" and a subsequent "Hey!" from the man, the bump having caused him to spill some of the drink he held in his hand onto his shirt.
The large man, sporting an almost comically large mustache, turned around and looked down at the comparatively mousy girl, his towering figure imposing quite a bit over her as he'd give a less than friendly look.
"Watch where you're goin', dumb girl!"
"Eek, I'm so, so sorry!" The woman gasped, akin to that of an intimidated schoolgirl.
"Tch... You're lucky you've got a cute face, little girl, or I woulda decked you good," The man, little more than irritated and evidently put into a sour mood if he wasn't before because of his dirtied shirt, would decide to walk off and continue about his business, leaving the woman by herself as she'd puff her cheeks cutely with a "Humph!" as her earlier embarrassed mood seemed to dissipate in an instant, replaced by discontent.
"Little girl...?! Jeez, just because he's all big and tall like that...!"
He didn't have the courtesy to help her pick up her things! Granted, she was the one who caused all this, but still! What kind of person called himself a man and left a lady to handle herself?! But that was fine, that was fine! She didn't need any overly polite knight in shining armor to help her around! With that, the woman would gather her bearings and attempt to recover her dropped items, which thankfully considered little more than fresh apples that didn't seem too perturbed by the ground that they had landed on. It was then, however, that she'd stop when an unfamiliar male voice would clear his throat behind her, and then speak.
"Excuse me, ma'am... Are you alright? Do you need any help?"
"?"
With a blink, the woman would look up, finding herself sitting in front of a young man, likely just a few years younger than her. With a benign smile, as well as gentle hazel eyes that seemed to mirror her own blue eyes, he held out his arm to her, offering a hand. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. All of the woman's irritation earlier had practically evaporated and been replaced by a grateful mien that resulted in her being unable to resist giving a smile back, and in no time, it was as though she were back to her original cheery self as she'd shake her head, gathering the last of the stray apples and taking a hold of his hand to help herself back up.
"N-No, I'm fine. Thank you though," she spoke gratefully, patting herself off before looking at the young man before her, "I guess that's just what happens when I stop paying attention, huh?"
"Ah, don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us," the young man laughed good-naturedly, running a hand through his raven hair as he did so, before speaking again, "You sure you're alright? Pretty good fall you had there, miss."
"Oh, no, I'm good... Really! Fit as a fiddle! In fact, I'm as good as ever, so you don't have to worry about a thing, mister!" The woman exclaimed in a practically obviously forced display of enthusiasm, as she clearly didn't want the man worrying too much on her account, though... While other people in her position might just want to get this stranger out of their hair, she was more genuinely trying to make sure he didn't occupy his own time worrying for her.
…
Grrrroowwwl.
Of course, all that backfired when the low rumbling of her stomach, embarrassingly enough, would ring out, stating quite the contrary. The woman paled, the color comically draining from her face as though she had become mortified, while the young man pursed his lips in a way that made it evident that he was holding back a laughter, before he'd get that out of his system by clearing his throat, beginning to speak again as his arm was still stretched out to her.
"... So, lunch then?"
- - -
"Ahaha, no, no! It's not like that! I just bought all these apples because I saw that they were on sale, and I figured that I may as well make a pie out of them."
"Then... In that case, if you didn't go out with the intention of making apple pie to begin with, then you wanted to buy other stuff too, right?"
"..."
Moment of realization.
Gasp.
"Oh, no! I forgot to buy the oranges and the bread, and—and the eggs, and the—!"
"Hey, hey, don't worry about it! You can always go back to that place," the young man spoke reassuringly, continuing to smile at her. Away from the marketplace, the two individuals now were seated at a cafe, specifically sitting out at one of the outside tables, as it seemed to be the nearest place where one could sit down and order a meal to enjoy. Left with waiting for their orders to arrive, having made them just a minute prior, the two of them conversed happily enough, "But shopping on an empty stomach isn't something you should make a habit of, Miss... Uh, you know, it just occurred to me, I don't think I actually caught your name."
"Oh, I guess you haven't. Guess we forgot that part, huh? Well, my name's Celeste. Celeste Khron," the cheerful woman finally introduced herself without hesitation, before tilting her head and gazing upon the man again that only continued to be eerily familiar to her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. May as well ask. Better now than ever if they were doing introductions now, "On that note, who might you even be? I feel like... We've met before, but it's a complete blur. I'm really sorry if you're some old friend I forgot about!" She apologized profusely, clapping her hands together as though praying for forgiveness, despite no claim of hers even being confirmed just yet.
Still, if nothing else, this sort of personality only garnered a cordial chuckle from the young man, who only shook his head. "No, no... I'm just a stranger passing by. Oh, and... You can call me Lucas," the young man would introduce himself in turn, smooth as glass, but not quite as transparent.
Celeste became silent for a good second, before letting out a small giggle, causing Lucas to raise an eyebrow, a silent gesture of asking what was so funny. Upon calming down quickly, she'd look upon him and take a breath. "Oh... Lucas, is it? What a coincidence! That's my son's name! Or... Well, more like his middle name to be exact."
Well, then. Now, that was a bombshell to drop.
"W... Wait, huh? You got a kid? You can't be that old, so... Would that mean... That you're... Uh, well...?"
"H-Huh?" Celeste inquired with wide eyes, tilting her head slightly as she wondered what the young man who introduced himself as Lucas was trying to imply, before it hit her like a brick wall, and her face flushed in an instant, "How rude! Are you implying that I... I'm some sort of hussy?!" Celeste inquired, seeming to take offense at whatever she believed him to be implying.
"I mean, you did say yes to a complete stranger offering to have lunch with you," Lucas spoke. He was well aware that him asking to eat with her, like they were going out on some blind date, was perhaps strange of him to begin with, but it wasn't... completely his fault, right? "Who knows what a stranger intends to do with pretty women? Especially those who give off the helpless schoolgirl vibe, if you catch my drift," he teased.
"H-Helpless schoolgirl?!" She couldn't believe what she had just heard! "I'll have you know that I just turned 30, so it's not even that bad! W-Wait... A-Are you one of those strangers who wants to do something bad to me?!""
Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms skeptically at her initial words, before shaking his head and sighing at her later ones. Well, she certainly didn't act her age, that was for sure.
"What do you think? Jeez... Normally, women would be more reluctant and embarrassed to drop their age like that..." The younger man murmured underneath his breath, but lo and behold, the childlike woman had ears like that of an elephant. They even almost twitched a little, as though his words elicited such a physical reaction from her.
"W-What's there to be embarrassed about?!"
"Nothing, nothing... In any case, so if you're 30, how old's your kid anyway? 4? 5?" Lucas would inquire just as a waiter would come over and set down two glasses of water on their table. Feeling a little parched, he reached over and took a sip of his water.
"U-Um... 13," Celeste meekly replied.
"PFFFFT—What?!" Lucas exclaimed with great surprise, now his time to show off wide eyes as he nearly spit out his water. Well, he did spit out a little, though he'd managed to drink most of it before he did, "And you got so mad at me earlier for—!"
"No, no, hear me out, it's not like that! Jeeez, stop jumping to conclusions!" Celeste exclaimed, almost beginning to blush again, before composing herself quickly and continuing to talk, "See, my son, he's... actually adopted. So he's not... really my child, but I love him as if he were," she spoke from the heart, a small genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she thought on her child, like the thought of him seemed to erase any previous feeling of embarrassment she'd had a moment earlier.
She certainly seemed to be prone to switching between moods easily.
"See... I used to have a husband. We loved each other, or so we thought, but it was probably just... the passions of youth. We met when we were teenagers and ended up marrying by the time I was 24, but it didn't last. He was really excited to settle down and start a family with me, something about being really eager to bring a new family member into this world, but..." Celeste paused for a brief moment, her smile turning somewhat melancholy, as did her eyes, which gave off a more distant look suddenly, "He... left me pretty quickly. He just couldn't really handle it when he found out that... I couldn't... It turned out I wasn't able to... Y'know... conceive."
Lucas's carefree attitude quickly shifted when Celeste would reveal details about herself rather unexpectedly, giving her a frown and a comforting hand to touch hers, providing a warm touch to hands that were already warm. Gentle and soft, like a young mother indeed.
"I'm... sorry to hear that. I... I really shouldn't have..."
"No, no, it's okay!" Celeste said with a slightly brighter tone in her voice, shaking her head as she'd clear her throat and her smile would widen a bit more, becoming a bit more sheepish, "I suppose I'm not really supposed to say this sort of stuff, especially to people I just met, but... I dunno. I guess I just wanted to let someone outside of my family know. It's just... It's funny, you know? I can't even really be angry with that man, even if he did leave me. We just... made a lot of mistakes together, but that's okay. It's good to make mistakes. They're things to learn from, to... to look back upon, to remind ourselves of a time when we were less savvy of how the world works. And one of those mistakes he made was... He wanted too much too quickly, but then, don't a lot of people? I tried getting him to consider adopting a kid with me, but he was really insistent on it being related to us biological. I didn't think it mattered personally, as long as we loved our child just like it was our own, but he wouldn't have any of it, so he left. And I was alone."
"..."
Lucas kept silent while Celeste spoke, invested in her story, and he didn't dare to interrupt her for anything, letting the woman continue speaking as he continued to hold on to her hands. Truly, any bystander would never suspect that they were practical strangers on a "first date," but... Well, she didn't seem uncomfortable, and neither did he. It felt... nice. Natural. Nostalgic, even. Of a time when he...
"So, even after he left me, I decided to adopt a child. I figured... The world has too many people in it anyway, and a lot of them aren't fortunate enough to have parents who wanted to keep them, so I decided... I would take away the pain of a child who was alive and well, yet had been abandoned, just as I had. I mean, I didn't adopt him just to cope with loneliness or anything. I really grew to love him, as I expected myself to. And I think, in his own little way, he loves me the same. Even if he tries to hide it and won't even call me Mom," she almost seemed to giggle, her spirits lifted up a tad, before suddenly, her eyes would widen and she'd blink in surprise, pulling away from Lucas's hands, if only through a reflexive instinct more than anything, "Oh... I'm sorry, I ended up telling all about my personal life to you, a stranger. I guess I really do talk too much, huh?" She asked, playfully knocking on her temple with her fist and letting out a small, sheepish chuckle.
"No, no, it's fine, really!" Lucas insisted, attempting to defuse her awkwardness, though before he could say much more, the waiter would appear and drop off their orders, which consisted of little more than sandwiches and coffee. Not too bad for a cafe, but... Well, anyway.
Lucas kept silent for the most part, waiting for the waiter to go away, though it was a tad annoying, given how chatty he was, making a joke about how touchy the two of them were (Oh, he noticed), which elicited quite a blush from Celeste. Lucas could never understand how a girl could look so cute while seeming bashful, but then again, she wasn't a "girl" girl, so it didn't count, right?
Once the waiter had finally left, picking up the holo-menus laid out for them in the process, much to the raven-haired man's relief, he'd clear his throat, intending to get the conversation back on track. "In any case... Ah, well..." Lucas began, letting out a sheepish chuckle, before clearing his throat, "I mean, I think you're right. You know how kids are, especially at that age. I was the same when I was younger too," he said, idly taking a few bites out of his meal.
"You mean, you were adopted too?"
"... Y-Yeah," the younger man replied, an implicit hint of hesitation in his voice for whatever reason, "I was an orphan kid too. Lived in an okay orphanage, before I was eventually adopted by a caring woman who took me in," Lucas spoke, keeping somewhat vague to a degree, though it didn't seem like Celeste noticed. Once again, it was his turn to exact a habit that Celeste had done before; in this case, giving a more nostalgic, distant look as he spoke of his past, "I... couldn't have asked for a better mother, to be honest. She was a little clumsy and naive at times, but... She was also really kind and gentle... Even when I was at my worst, it never felt like she stopped caring for me."
Celeste tilted her head slightly, finishing up her sandwich rather quickly as Lucas spoke, eyes wide with curiosity, before nodding at his words and giving a sympathetic smile. "She sure sounds like a good person. But... If I may ask, why do you look so sad talking about her?"
True enough, try as he might to hide it, it seemed that the spark of sadness that flashed in his eyes was not something the woman was blind to. Once again, Lucas hesitated to speak, but did so anyway, deciding that if he was gonna start telling a story, he may as well tell its end as well. "It's just... Well, she was so good to me, y'know? We didn't really have a lot of money to begin with, but she made do regardless. She did so much for me, and yet, I couldn't... even call her Mom," he said, his voice growing lower as he resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists, feeling a sense of blood boiling at himself, "I always acted like I was embarrassed of her, and while... while she could be weird like that, that was part of what made her... her. And then, before I knew it, she died," Lucas continued, letting that bombshell sit for a few seconds, before elaborating, averting his gaze from Celeste's look, "Hovercar accident. It was all so sudden... I didn't even bother saying that I loved her before she left to go out. My stupid kid self thought stuff like that was just too embarrassing..."
Lucas didn't have any particular difficulty fighting an urge to cry or anything, but his melancholy was quite visible. Normally, he disliked wallowing in self-pity that he had introduced to others in the first place, but... He couldn't help it. Even so, Celeste pondered what to say in order to comfort him, before finding just the thing. Or so she believed.
"I'm... so sorry to hear that. But... Hey, if I know anything about being an adoptive mother, it's that we don't pick out a child and raise them just so we can hear a "Thanks" or so. We do it because we want to love a child and nurture them, and as long as that child is happy and well, then a mother couldn't ask for more. I'm sure that even without having to say anything... Your feelings came through," Celeste stated genuinely, giving a reassuring smile.
Lucas gave pause for a good moment, thinking over her words. It was as though whatever he had led himself to believe was being challenged in the most non-confrontational way ever, but...
"Do... Do you really think so?"
"I know so. It's the same with how Isaac – That's my son's first name, by the way, Isaac – is. He may not make a habit out of saying how much he loves me, but he doesn't have to, y'know? I already know how he feels."
"How do you know that?"
"Call it... mother's intuition," Celeste gave a small giggle and a strange wink, even putting a finger up to her pink lips, as though she were (badly) trying to be some sort of whimsical.
"I see... Then, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it," Lucas responded, letting out a small chuckle.
Indeed, this Celeste Khron was a strange person, but not a bad person by any means.
Just as he remembered.
…
From there, the deep conversation about motherhood seemed to die down, and the two individuals were able to enjoy more light-hearted, trivial conversation, as they ate their food. The more peaceful exchange was certainly welcome on both sides.
Shortly after finishing her sandwich and coffee, the bill arriving and promptly being paid for in full by Lucas, Celeste would take a gander at her digital wristwatch, before letting out a small gasp. "Oh, no! I promised Isaac I'd be before sundown, and it's almost 6! Oh, dear... I'll have to go back tomorrow to get what I forgot, I suppose!" She would exclaim, abruptly bolting to her feet and gathering her things, giving Lucas a sheepish smile, "I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to get going! Unless... You'd want to come with me? Isaac may come off as shy, but—"
"Oh, no, I couldn't. Besides, one, I have some business of my own to attend to, and two... I mean, isn't it a little weird to invite someone you just met into your home?" Lucas pointed out, causing Celeste to once again obliviously tilt her head.
"Hmm? How so?"
God, she really was dense!
With an exasperated sigh, Lucas only rubbed the back of his head, before clearing his throat. "Never mind... Anyway, like I just said, I have some places I need to be myself. I'm here on business, so I'm not exactly from around here anyway."
"Oh... Then, does that mean... I won't be seeing you around?" Celeste inquired, seeming to be a bit downcast by his response.
"Ah... Unfortunately not. Once I'm done with what I need to do, I'm outta here, though I will say... I'm glad that a pretty girl accompanied me during my time here."
"B-But I'm not a little girl!" Celeste exclaimed, her face once again turning a bit red at the teasing that Lucas had put her up to, seeming to completely ignore the compliment about her appearance.
"Right, right," Lucas said with a small, good-natured laugh, before standing up as well. He waltzed over to in front of Celeste, the woman wondering what he was up to now, before his face would give a suddenly, surprisingly serious look, "Listen... Before you go, please... Take this. It's not a whole lot, but... I really wanted to give this to you," he spoke earnestly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out something rather unexpected.
A stack of credits. The total value had to stack up to at least 5,000.
Celeste couldn't believe her eyes, no matter how wide she had them go. Five thousand credits?! But... What...?!
"H-Hey, hold on... Is this some... some kind of joke? You're just... gonna give me five thousand credits, just like that?"
"Yes. I want you to have this, as a gift from me to you," Lucas said seriously, no indication of joking present in his voice. His look was almost what one could call intense, though he was perhaps just one notch below that. Continuing to hold the stack out to her, he kept on talking, "If life with a single, adoptive mother has taught me anything, it's that it's never hard. You said it yourself, right? Your husband left you, so all that you have is yourself. I want to at least give you something, if only this, to help you get by. Please... Take it."
Celeste pursed her lips, at a loss for immediate words. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't have to. Her body did the talking for her, it seemed, as her hands would shakily, yet surely, take the credits offered to her, the woman pocketing it and looking up at him.
"... Thank you," she said, her expression reverting to that of a smile in no time, "I'll never forget this kindness. Thank you so much... And goodbye."
And with that, she leaned in, gave Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek, and then ran off, leaving the younger man standing there to himself.
"... What a weirdo."
With a sigh, hardly even reacting to the kiss, Lucas would stuff his hands into his pocket once again, this time pulling out what seemed to be a small notebook of sorts, with the words "Messenger Journal" engraved in it. Easily enough, he opened it and flipped over to the last page with writing on it, taking out the pen in the rings of the notebook and scratching out what was written in it:
Name – Celeste Khron
Destination – September 8, 2144
Arriving From – September 8, 2157
Item to Deliver – 5,000 Credits
Job Assigned by – Isaac Lucas Khron
Job Assigned to – Isaac Lucas Khron
Now that Celeste had left him, the Time Messenger, Isaac Lucas Khron, felt comfortable by himself. Comfortable enough that before he knew it, tears began to well up in his eyes, drops landing on the paper as he stifled a sniffle.
It was bittersweet to see his mother again, even if in a form like that. By law, he was forbidden from directly significantly interfering with established past, so he dare not try. Still, Lucas wanted to see her one last time, and she was the same as ever.
She was exactly as expected. What a predictable woman she was. But that was what made her her after all. With a bittersweet smile, Lucas rubbed his eyes to wipe away his tears, before turning around and pocketing his journal once again, walking by himself.
"Goodbye... Mom. I love you."
He had finally said it. After all this time, he finally did it.
Morning
"Move it, shortstop." Laurel stumbled as she was shoved off the sidewalk and into the slush lining the gutters, the cold slurry splashing up and into her heavy boots. Looking up, she saw Beth and her cronies looking down at her. It was Beth herself who'd shoved her aside, hands shoved angrily into her pockets and glowering down at Laurel, her dark face and messy black hair a heavy contrast to the interchangeable tall pale blondeness of Cynthia, Sally H., and Godwyn, who were gathered cheerfully behind Beth. "People are trying to walk here."
"S-sorry," Laurel stammered, looking down at her boots.
"Y-you g-get that st-st-stammer from the thrift store too?" Cynthia - or maybe Sally H. - mocked cruelly. The other two cronies laughed, while Beth only continued to look down at Laurel, mouth working sourly and face unreadable.
"Sorry," Laurel repeated, quietly. "I'll, uh, w-watch where I'm going next t-time."
One of the blondes - Godwyn, perhaps - opened her mouth to make another jab, but Beth cut her off. "Yeah, whatever" she said, before giving a heavy yawn. "God, four o'clock and I'm still asleep. Can't believe I used to be a morning person. C'mon, let's grab some coffee or something."
As they walked off, Laurel heard them asking Beth about her brother, when he'd be back in town, and if he'd have new stuff ready for them when he did. Casually moving on and forgetting Laurel even existed. Sniffling, Laurel wiped her cold nose clean with a colder hand and sat down in a nearby doorway, despondent. She didn't know what she'd done to draw their hate. Her cousins had never been like that, and her parents had taught her to be kind to those around her. Yet high school seemed intent on throwing that back in her face, drowning her in cruelty and pettiness. She missed the peace and safety of being homeschooled. Of laughing and learning in equal parts alongside her family.
Laurel hunched down lower in the doorway, miserable. This wasn't how she'd thought school would go at all. She'd imagined late night study parties. Meeting close friends for life. Finding love, and kisses shared beneath a starry sky. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand once more, Laurel got to her feet and went to take the long route home, away from Beth and her cronies.
"Do you want to be something special?"
Laurel turned to see one of Beth's friends standing behind her. A small, quiet girl she'd never really paid attention to before, with wide blue eyes and a swirling cloud of almost white hair. "S-sorry," Laurel stammered, "what was that?"
"Do you want to be something special?" the girl repeated, oddly grave. "Do you want to travel between worlds? Help people?"
Laurel opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but the girls small hands shot out and enveloped her own. Her mouth shut with a jolt as the world seemed to flex for a moment, an afterimage of reality overlaying itself on top of the world, it's hue and saturation subtly wrong. She looked around in shock for a moment before the blonde girl caught her eye. And where the blonde girl's eyes had been, there was now only a gaping abyss. A glimpse into something wide and dark and unknowable. "Who- what are you?"
"You can call me Shy," the girl answered. "And I am something not quite real. Something from a dream. The Dream. Please, will you help? I need your help-"
"Shy!" Down the street, Beth was shoving past her friends, staring at Laurel and Shy. her face angry and yet also oddly afraid. "Shy, get back here! Leave her alone!"
Laurels hands clenched beneath Shy's cool grasp. She was sick of Beth, sick of being pushed around and looked down on. She wanted to be liked, to be someone important. "I-I want to be special," she whispered, voice hoarse with the need for it. "Please, let me h-help. I'll help."
Beth was only a few metres away now, her footsteps hurried and fists swingly tightly by her side. Her friends didn't even bother to look as she continued to shout, but Shy only smiled and stood, hands still clasping Laurel's. "Thank you," she said, and pulled Laurel forward into the abyss.
Dusk
Inside the Dream, it was cold and vast and dark, as it always was. Scenes and people and objects flowed and merged together, as transparent and false as afterimages. These were the worlds of the sleeping, a faint bridge between the real world and the Dream.
The Dream itself would not begin to take shape until it was acted upon, either by itself or by Laurel and Beth. They were the architects, their struggle giving form the formless.
For half a year Laurel had been keeping the Dream in check, cutting out its roots before it could drag itself into reality at the cost of those whose dreams bridged the gap. For half a year she'd spent her sleeping hours in here, and it still felt impossibly strange and alien to her.
Even stoic, private Beth admitted she felt the foreign oppressiveness of it weigh down on her, and she'd been fighting the Dream on her own for a year before Shy had first pulled Laurel in.
Reigning in her discomfort, Laurel began to give herself form, drawing upon the latent possibility around her to recreate her body. Looking inward, she recalled the feeling of air moving past her body. Faced her imperfections and humbly accepted her strengths. She didn't rush the process, remembering the misshapen messes she had created her first few times. Even after she had learned to make something that looked human, it was weeks before it had actually been her. Once she was finished, not even needing to look to know she had gotten it right, she raised her head and conjured clothes. Where the body was an act of patience and self-reflection, the clothes were an act of improvisation and desire. Light was drawn forth from the abyss and wrapped around her. Revelling in the myriad colours and possibilities represented in that light, she willed it spin around her faster and faster before letting it settle into something solid. An extravagant, weightless blue gown, stretching from the top of her neck down to the base of her feet.
Satisfied, Laurel raised her hand to the heavens and began to envision an arrow, its shape forming as light inside her forearm itself. She thought of it in movement, its speed and purpose, and it began to hum with tension, her entire arm tingling with its need to fly. With a grin, Laurel let go, and the arrow shot forth from the palm of her hand high into the black sky before bursting into violet light. For a few moments, there was only Laurel and the cascading light amidst the half-formed visions of the sleeping, then the space before her began to warp and out of it stepped Beth.
Where Laurel chose to dress herself like something from a fairy tale, all frills and lace and extravagance, Beth was far more simple in her choice of apparel. Dressed in simple, low-cut black clothes, with green highlights that traced her curves, she looked at once both more mature and more competent than Laurel. At first that had bothered Laurel, made her feel inferior, but over time she had come to understand they simply approached the same problems in different ways. Neither better nor worse than the other.
Beth laced her hands above her head and began to stretch, working out nonexistent kinks in her spine. "Ready to get started, then?"
Nodding, Laurel knelt down on the ground, gown billowing around her, and dug her fingers into the soft surface of the Dream. Slowly exhaling, she let her eyes close and consciousness expand outwards, searching for roots. With people's dreams so indistinct, it was nearly impossible to find where the Dream had planted its roots simply by looking. Beth's solution was to simply begin tearing at the foundation of the Dream, rending it asunder until she encountered resistance. Laurel, however, preferred a more patient approach. Letting herself slip and fade as far into the Dream as she dared until she could feel the pulse of it, find it's energy and trace it to its burgeoning saplings.
When she finally found a vein, she filled it with light to guide them to its end. Finished, she began withdraw when her mind brushed against another, weaker vein further out. Feeling uneasy, she marked it with light as well before fully pulling back into her imagined body. Above her, Beth was frowning out across the horizon.
"Which line is it?" she asked, looking between two slithering tendrils in the distance. One strong and bright, the other dull and faltering.
"B-both."
"Both? It's never grabbed two minds in one night before. Sure you're not imagining things?"
"I-I don't know, but I d-definitely felt two of them." Wringing her hands together, Laurel hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Y-you said there used to only be a few a week, right? Then one almost every night? And since I've st-started, there's only been a handful of empty nights."
Beth worked her mouth sourly. "The Dream's getting stronger, yeah. But now we're going to have to split up to deal with them both." Beth cursed quietly. "Fuck. Fine. I'll take the bright one."
"T-that's not going to, uh, work though."
"You've been at this long enough," Beth snapped, "don't tell you can't handle one night on your own."
"N-no," Laurel stammered, "that's not what I mean. If it's, y'know, getting stronger, we c-can't keep up with it forever."
"We don't have much choice," Beth retorted. "It's that or let it send our friends and family into comas as it tries to drag itself out of here."
Laurel swallowed, looking out at the two violet tendrils of light. Where they sunk into the boundary between the Dream and reality, and where they stretched back into the furthest unknown depths. "W-we could go for the source. St-stop it once and for all."
"Don't be an idiot," Beth said. "Even the roots put up a fight when we destroy them. Imagine what the source would be like." But even as she spoke, she too was looking out to where the veins of light disappeared in the distance, eyes hungry.
"W-we can do this," Laurel urged, "together."
"We can do this," Beth muttered, then looked at Laurel, something approaching a smile on her mouth. "Let's do it."
Afternoon
"What is it t-that the Dream wants?"
Shy looked up at Laurel confused. The two of them were sitting in Laurel's room, surrounded by stuffed animals and scattered dolls. Childs toys, but things that Laurel found comforting. From the radio on her desk, light rock played softly, and downstairs Laurel's cousins could be heard stomping around, getting ready for soccer practice. Shy looked Laurel over for a moment, then turned to the window. "Did Beth not say?"
"B-Beth doesn't, uh, t-talk to me much," Laurel admitted, "l-like, at all. I don't think she w-wants me around."
"Oh," Shy turned back to Laurel, head tilted and wide eyes both blue and empty at the same time. "It wants to be real. It wants to live and breath and grow, and is willing to drag others back into its prison in order to pull itself free."
"B-but you're a p-part of the Dream, right? And you're here. Uh, real."
"No," Shy stated quietly. "I am not. I am only real to you, and to Beth. Everyone else sees me, but even as they look at me, they forget me. Something at the edge of their awareness, slipping even as they try to focus on it."
"O-oh." Laura awkwardly began fidgeting with the hem of her dress, rubbing it between her fingers. "I'm, uh... I'm s-sorry?"
"It's not your doing." Shy leaned forward, and as she did, the sunlight filtered through the window became caught in that swirling cloud of hair. Refracted and multiplied into a soft halo around Shy's peaceful, cherub-like face. But even then, those wide eyes continued to bore into Laura, impenetrably deep and ancient. "Just know that as long as you and Beth continue to fight the Dream, you are doing the right thing. That is all I need of you."
Midnight
The veins of light had led them further into the Dream than they had ever been before. Above them, the uniform darkness had given way to swirling constellations of stars, pulsating bursts of light that refused to remain still. Sometimes they seemed impossibly distant, further than the furthest galaxies, and other times they seemed to hang heavy over Laurel's head, ready to fall upon her in a cascade of stardust. Beneath their feet, the veins of light had widened into paths, twisting and flowing through each other. Until, eventually, they came to rest at the base of a mighty tree. Every time Laurel blinked, it seemed to take a new shape; at once a willow and a pine, an oak and a birch. It's branches stretched far into the sky, waves of pale blue light coursing beneath the bark. It sparked and thrummed with energy, reminding Laurel of diagrams of nervous systems.
This far from the boundary between the Dream and reality, there were no afterimages of dreams. Only barren ground and bloated stars, shifting tree and writhing roots. When Laurel turned to Beth, fear and adrenaline holding her heart prisoner, she found Beth looking back at her, face dangerous and determined. There was a purpose to her, a sharp edge. Something that had always rested just beneath her skin, cutting and pressing forward in times of need. Now, in the heart of the Dream, those honed blades began to surface, forming as shards of green light swirling around Beth's hands.
With a small nod, Beth signalled for Laurel to back away before turning to face the tree. The shards grew sharper and brighter, increasingly deadly and chaotic as even more were pulled from the void to join the turmoil. The storm grew larger and larger until finally it coalesced into a single massive swarm, directed by Beth's guiding hands. With a shout, she let it loose, the shards cutting into the roots and base of the tree. There was a maddened shriek as the bark split and charred, cords of lightning arcing outwards and gouging rifts along the ground.
Hurriedly, Laura formed a protective bubble around her and Beth, the lightning coursing around it hungrily. The shriek of the wounded tree grew higher and higher in pitch, reaching far above the normal range of human hearing. But in the Dream, such limitations lost all meaning, and the sound continued to tear at Laurel's ears, sending her to her knees. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The last few sparks of electricity faded away, and the tree was still once more. Beth looked back to Laurel, confused, but Laurel had no answers for her.
They stood there for a moment, wondering if victory had been so easy, when the tree began to shudder. Pale, gnarled hands began to grow from the wounds left by the shards. Scrabbling, clutching hands that pulled themselves further out, dragging arms and bodies behind them. Dozens of them, one from each cut. When they stood, they were crooked and unsteady things, somewhere between a person and a dried piece of driftwood. Cracked and pale, stiff and hollow. They moved in jerks and bursts, hardly seeming to transition from one position to the next.
Without hesitation Beth darted forward, already summoning another cloud of green shards to swirl around her fists. Further back, Laurel gathered an arrow of light in her arm before shooting it out towards the furthest of the saprolings, piercing one through the chest before continuing onwards to remove the arm of another. The first collapsed, while the second changed course away from Beth and towards Laurel, apparently unhindered by the smoking stump left of its arm.. A few others nearby did the same, moving surprisingly fast with their jittering movements.
Raising a series of floating steps, Laurel hopped away from them, shooting arrows back down at them all the while. Beneath her, Beth danced amidst a crowd of saprolings, ducking beneath their blows and shredding apart those who lingered in her presence. But even as they were struck down, others stepped in to take their place, dangerous by sheer volume, and Beth was slowly forced backwards towards the tree.
Worried, and with the rest of those that had been hounding her struck down, Laurel lowered herself to the ground once more to steady her aim and began picking off those at the edge of the crowd, not wanting to risk hitting Beth by mistake. Together, they began to bring down the saprolings, though those that remained continued to back Beth towards the tree, trying to corner her. No matter how unpredictably she moved or how quickly she dodged, there was always another saproling there to throw itself in her way, regardless of it's own well being. Until at last, with only a handful of saprolings left, Beth went to step backwards only to find the tree at her back. Sensing victory, the saprolings latched onto her tight, forcing her wrists back, their wooden strength too much for Beth to overcome.
Panicking, Laurel readied another arrow and let loose, her aim dangerously close to Beth. With a burst of violet light, two of the saprolings fell back, leaving only one gripping Beth's wrist. It froze for only a moment before lunging to grab Beth's other wrist, but Beth was faster, whipping her hand around and shoving a green shard into the saproling's featureless face. It staggered back, clutching at the light, before toppling to the ground.
Sharing a sigh of relief, Laurel and Beth relaxed, the fight won. Around them the saprolings littered the ground, faintly smoking where the weapons of light had cut them. Some still twitched, defeated but not quite dead, long fingers scratching at the ground.
Beth looked up at Laurel and smiled for a moment, before confusion washed across her face and she looked down at her feett. Following her gaze, Laurel could see the roots of the tree slowly settling around Beth's ankles, holding them tight. The two looked back up at each other in horror, before fresh branches shot out of the trunk and latched onto to Beth, and began to drag her towards it's hungry mass.
Evening
"Why d-do you hang out with them?"
The two of them were sitting around Laurel's kitchen table, working on math homework. The sound of Laurel's father mowing the lawn gently wafted through the open window, while upstairs her mother could be heard softly singing in the shower. Beth, meanwhile, seemed barely conscious, stifling yet another yawn as she looked up. "With who?"
"Your c-" Laurel only just managed to stop herself before the word 'cronies' left her lips. "Friends. Cynthia, Sally H., Godwyn. T-them. You don't really seem like their type."
"Their type?" Beth asked warily. "What do you mean by that?"
"L-like, you're not... outgoing like they are. You don't obsess over makeup or g-gossip about boys or things like that. You're acad-demic and reclusive and... yeah."
"You have a really childish idea of what my friends are like," Beth muttered, scratching down another answer to her homework. "Is there something you're getting at, with this? Or just shitting on my social life?"
"W-well," Laurel shuffled some math handouts around as she gathered her thoughts, knowing she was on thin ice and about to step onto thinner. "You said you get them good deals on, uh, m-marijuana because of your brother, right? S-so, don't you worry that they just hang out with you for a ch-cheap high?"
Beth was silent for a moment, face inscrutable as she studied Laurel before answering. "Whatever. Not your problem."
"W-what?" Laurel leaned forward, face earnest. "I'm j-just, like, worried. That they're, you know, taking advantage of you. That they d-don't actually care about-"
"Of course they don't fucking care about me," Beth shouted, suddenly on her feet, knuckles white on the edge of the table. "You think I need some fucking princess like you to tell me that? I know they just put up with me to get deals from my brother. I've known since day fucking one. But what am I supposed to do, huh? They're the only ones who will hang out with someone like me, and it's a far sight better than nothing."
"I-I was just trying to help."
"I don't want your help," Beth answered hotly. "I don't need it. What do you know about any of this kind of thing anyway? Little miss perfect, with her doting parents and friendly cousins. Sharing laughs and smiles with everyone at school." Beth sat back down, head buried in her hands. "You don't even need to try to win people over. They just... like you," Beth snapped her fingers, "just like that."
Laurel yearned to reach out and rest a hand on Beth's shoulder. To lend a comforting touch. But even now, after months of sharing the Dream together, Laurel couldn't help but be afraid of Beth. Of her anger and insecurities. "I-I didn't win you over."
"No," Beth admitted, raising her head and letting her hands fall away, "you didn't." For a moment she looked as if she was going to say more, guilt and resentment both lurking beneath her dark eyes, before she turned away. "I need to leave if I want to have dinner ready for when my mom and dad get off work."
"Beth, I didn't m-mean to-"
"I dont want your pity, so please just... stop. I'll see you tonight."
Dawn
Slowly, inevitably, the grasping branches began to envelope Beth, pulling her into the tree's embrace. "Laurel!" she shouted, reaching out desperately with her free hand.
Stumbling over herself in her haste and darting around the twitching forms of the fallen saprolings, Laurel raced to Beth and grabbing the outstretched arm even as the branches began to pull it back. She dug her heels in the ground, trying to find the purchase needed to drag Beth free, but the tree was patient. Relentless. Its bark began to flow outwards and over Beth, making her a part of itself. Letting go with one hand, Laurel reached out behind her and summoned chains from the ground, ordered them to wrap around her and anchor her. To lash her and Beth's hands together. "I-I got you," Laurel stammered, straining. But even as she worked, the tree sent roots to entangle her chains, worked its implacable will against hers.
Slowly, Laurel felt Beth's wrist sliding out of her grip. "Please," Beth begged, as branches began to stretch up her neck. A pale and gnarled necklace, pulsing with energy. "Please." Laurel could feel Beth's conscious reaching out to her even as her grip weakened, and Laurel responded in kind, their minds coiling around each other, desperate for purchase. And in their opposites, began to bond. Like the teeth of a zipper, hope found fear. Self-pity found self-hatred; love found loneliness; forgiveness, bitterness; and idealism, realism. All their disparities came together into a unified need for acceptance; for each other. Laurel's violet aura met Beth's green, and the two merged into gold. A gold light that filled them with warmth and with comfort. That washed away their fear and laid to rest their doubts.
The tree began to writhe and shudder, the branches that held Beth catching aflame. Curling and turning ashen beneath the golden light, their hungry grip crumbled, and Beth tumbled out from the tree and into Laurel's waiting arms. Pieces of charred bark fell harmless from her skin. They clutched at each other, sobbing with relief, as above them the fire spread. Against the combined truth of all their pieces, their strengths and flaws, the falseness of the Dream was helpless. Clouds of blue and black ash flowed up into the void, blotting out the heavy stars. The branches cracked and twisted backwards upon themselves, sending thunderous shudders through the ground. And as the fire turned to an inferno, the entire tree began to collapse, folding inwards and downwards until all that was left was a hunched, smoldering form. A girl, with wide hurt eyes and a swirling cloud of sparks for hair.
Laurel looked on with horror as Shy straightened uneasily amidst the ash, coals burning beneath her flesh, skin peeling back from the heat. "I'm sorry," Shy gasped, sparks drifting from her mouth. "I'm sorry. I only wanted to be real." She took a tottering step forward, reaching out towards Laurel and Beth, blackening face twisted with envy. "I wanted... this," with every pained word her voice grew quieter, more strained. One finger from her outstretched hand fell to the ground and shattered, scattering coal and ash. "I wanted you. I wanted-" With her next step, her leg collapsed, sparks flung forward as her body tumbled to the ground and crumbled, leaving nothing but a dark mound and a cloud of soot.
Laurel clasped a hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to be sick. Beside her, Beth shuddered once before climbing to her feet. "We have to go," she muttered, half-dragging Laurel behind her. "We need to leave... this."
Nodding mutely, Laurel let herself be dragged alone. The two of them followed the tendrils of light back to the boundary, puffs of soot drifting from them with each step. Their skin was dark and coarse from it, their noses clogged with the smell of burnt wood and burnt flesh. Beneath, the golden light still glowed softly, strongest where Beth gripped Laurel with ferocious strength.
So weary was Laurel, that she didn't even notice when they reached the boundary, only looking up when Beth lowered her to her knees and forced her hands into the ground. "Let's go home," she said. "Let's go home."
Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady
Boom Boom Joykick watched helplessly, fists clenched, as her best friend Daphne was hauled away by the gang of thugs, one of them holding a knife to Daphne's throat. The slightest pressure and her subclavian artery would be slashed. Boom Boom cursed them viciously, but Daphne's captors just laughed mockingly, knowing the little terror didn't dare make a move on them.
"The boss just wanted insurance, Boom Boom," purred Ratface Roy. "As soon the shipment leaves the city with NO complications, you'll have your pal back. Mostly in one piece."
The other men snickered as Daphne whimpered beneath the meaty hand placed over her rosebud mouth.
Boom Boom had told Daphne to stay away from Ratface, but the naïve girl had believed the man's lies, eating up his flattery like it was gummy bears. Ratface was just misunderstood, protested Daphne (and besides that, he was falling in love with her, she was sure). Now, too late, Daphne knew the truth.
"Bye bye!" called Ratface mockingly as they piled into the waiting helicopter (sadly crumpling the pathetic little bows on Daphne's summer dress).
The helicopter quickly became just a dot in the sky.
Boom Boom raced to the edge of the building's roof, visually tracking them as long as she could with her sharpened senses. Ah, they were heading to the old peanut processing factory along the Hudson River. This was one of their lairs that she had scouted out long ago, but which had appeared deserted until now.
She needed to beat them there!
Boom Boom scrunched up her eyes (looking adorably bad ass in her tiny black shorts and clinging tank top displaying the picture of a smiling teddy bear holding a bloody axe) and concentrated on the magic stone in her hand. "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl, I need you NOW!"
There was a radiant flash of cotton candy-colored sparkles and ExtraSpecial Magic Girl appeared in a swirl of shimmering white robes fluttering over a purple underdress and tied with a deep pink sash. Her theme music played in her head as she blinked huge purple eyes, shook out her long silvery hair, and looked soulfully at Boom Boom. "You called?" she asked in a tiny feminine voice.
AND …. CUT!" shouted the director. "Good job, people. That's all for today."
"About fuckin' time," grumbled Suzi (aka Extraspecial Magic Girl) as an assistant helped pop out her purple contact lenses. "I got a manicure at eight and then a hot HOT date."
"Anyone we know?" asked Marian (aka Daphne or "Stupid & Naïve" -- as the cast liked to call her) with a sly smile.
"No one she WANTS us to know," snickered Bunny (Boom Boom Joykick), picking up another bruise as she clumsily bumped into a heavy prop.
As the three actresses began to make a mad dash to their trailer dressing rooms, their agent, "Killjoy" Malloy, stepped in front of them. "Wait, I have to talk to the three of you." He looked admonishingly at the crew, who were openly eavesdropping and lowered his voice. "URGENTLY. But not here. Meet me at Vern's Whiskey & Malt Shop in 15 minutes."
Malloy then scurried away like the little cockroach he was, pretending not to hear them cursing him out.
Forty minutes later, as Malloy nursed his third malt, the girls started to trickle in belligerently. Malloy straightened up in his seat and held out his hands in defense against a deluge of questions. "Just listen to me, okay?" he pleaded.
There were grumbles, but as Malloy said the magic words "major studio," "movie," and "starring role," he quickly got their undivided attention. He gulped nervously as he got to the part where he had to tell them this was not a remake of their blossoming t.v. series and would star only ONE of them.
"The producer wants to meet you first. All of you," he hastily clarified. "The script's not set in stone yet and it could go in any direction. And no, I can't tell you his name in advance."
"OH MAH GAWD," protested Suzi loudly, "Is this going to be some casting couch sleazebag shit?"
Several other occupants of the malt shop shot dirty looks at their booth. Bunny cringed internally and sat on her hands as if to distance herself. Marian simply smoothed her hair and tilted her face to make sure that she was presenting an excellent profile (in case any cell phones were focused on her lovely visage).
"No, no!" fussed Malloy, "Nothing like that. I mean, I don't THINK so. But…you might kinda need to convince him that you're -- you know . . . ." He flapped his hands helplessly.
The girls shot a weary glance at each other.
"Yeah, we know," sighed Marian. "That we're like the characters that we play. That is SO stupid."
"Ah, come on," begged Suzi, "tell me this isn't some 40-something-year-old guy that sleeps with a body pillow of his waifu."
Malloy pressed his lips together in a tight line and looked at them unblinkingly. (God forbid that the young harridans ever discover him with a picture of his husbando. He'd never hear the end of it.)
Suzi slurped the last dregs of her drink voraciously and sprinkled some pink "fairy dust" on the counter, as Killjoy Malloy pressed on with the details. The limo would pick them up tomorrow morning, blah, blah, blah.
As their waitress approached them with a weary demeanor and stared pointedly at the pile of "fairy" dust, Suzi shrugged and grinned, "Just keeping the legend alive." Suzi knew she often acted like an annoying careless flake, but that was just part of her act to get through life. A girl had to have some fun.
Malloy left an extra-large tip for the fairy mess; the girls might not hang out here much, but he did!
That night (or at least early morning) as each young lady finally fell asleep, they had a dream. A very vivid dream….
Suzi was the first to be picked up by the limo at the incredibly early hour of 10 a.m. She glanced at the bed. Her date from last night was still asleep and snoring like some prehistoric animal. Ugh. That was like, minus 40 on the adorability scale. She wanted to talk to someone about her dream, but obviously it wasn't going to be him. She could barely wait until her two co-stars got in the vehicle.
"Buns! Mare! I had the weirdest dream!" Bunny and Marian almost dropped their caramel brulée lattes as they stared at Suzi.
"Don't CALL me that!" Marian and Bunny protested in unison.
Suzi apologized half-heartedly, "Sorry, yeah?" Then she stared distractedly at their drinks. "Do you guys even KNOW how many calories are in that shit? Way to pudge up, girls. Anyways, about my dream…"
"Wait," protested Marian, "I had a weird dream, too! Maybe we got dosed with something."
Bunny stared at them poutily. "You guys partied together last night and didn't ask ME?!"
"Ah shite, Buns," sighed Suzi, "You're not street legal yet. We'll party together in January when you hit 21."
Bunny scowled. "Yeah, well I had a weird dream too and no one dosed me with anything."
The three girls started talking excitedly over each other in the mysterious way that some people have of talking and listening at the same time. Each one of them had received a dream "visitation" from a shiny doppelganger, promising them what they wanted most in life in exchange for …
And there the conversation broke off.
There was some shifting and squirming on the luxurious seating. No one wanted to say what the terms of their particular offer consisted of. And no one wanted to pry because that meant THEY would have to put their cards on the table as well. Plus each of them was kind of freaked the hell out because … for them to have the same dream?!? Too eerie. Too … real. But also … exciting.
It was a distracted group that piled into the front door of the hideous pink mansionette. Marian barely had enough focus to reapply her lipstick. Suzi half-heartedly hefted her tits to their best advantage. Bunny fluffed her short hairdo with contempt.
It was like . . . suddenly a line was drawn in the sand (in the sand of life, thought Marian, proudly aware that she was being deep) and that line would never go away. Well, hmm, then it was more like a line drawn in concrete than sand. Though if the concrete were wet, it could still be erased.
She was still trying to work the concept out, when the butler led them to the drawing room and ushered them into the smiling presence of Vor Milekh, the successful producer and director of such hit movies as "Bambi In Outer Space," "Demon On A Half-Shell," "Cowgirl Kickstop," "High School Summer Camp Sleepover," "The Awful Truth (And A Few Wonderful Lies) About Sasha," and many more.
Vor was beautiful. He was tall and graceful with a slim but powerful build. His abundant and silky dark blonde hair curled over the back of his collar. His laughing blue eyes were like dusky sapphires. He radiated charm and attentiveness. He was like a creature from another world.
The young ladies found themselves swept off their feet. Of course they had seen photos of Vor in People, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. But they never expected a man this old (why he must be over 40 at least, considering when his first hit came out) to be so attractive, so interesting, so enchanting. They sat down without any recollection of really doing so, with their mouths hanging slightly open.
Killjoy Malloy was there too, a dull beetle of a man, next to this glorious phoenix. No one had eyes for him. He was like a shadow: insubstantial, almost invisible.
Vor chatted with the girls for several minutes. For the life of them, they couldn't remember what was said as the butler brought in breakfast pastries and drinks. They felt themselves drawn into the curve of Vor's smile, the sparkle of his eyes, the intimate glance that seemed to read their secret thoughts and promise them – something that made them tingle to their very toes.
None of them noticed the subtle signals exchanged in the room. Between Vor and Killjoy. Between Vor and his butler.
Suzi felt very sleepy as she relaxed into the couch. Her eyes shut. She heard voices – as if distant and unconnected with her. Like the faint shouts of children on a playground blocks away.
"Good job, Malloy," commended Vor. "Through the dream testing, this interview and other analysis, we've ascertained the source of the problem. We will send the two lesser ones home, making sure they recollect nothing of what actually transpired here and providing them with new memories."
"Yessir," the agent replied humbly. "But which one is the problem?"
Vor chuckled throatily. "Quite a jest, but it's your Magic Girl."
"Eh, take her and good riddance," grumbled Malloy. "I'm always having to clean up her frigging 'fairy dust.' I assume I'll get a replacement?"
There was a moment of frigid silence. In the meantime, Suzi's heart gave a great thump and she came to full alert, but kept her eyes closely shut and didn't move a muscle.
"Human, you annoy me," growled Vor. "Of course, there will be a replacement. Not for YOUR convenience, but so that the balance between worlds can be maintained. Or perhaps you are telling me how to do my job?"
There was the sound of gliding footsteps across a polished floor and then a slight struggle followed by cries of pain.
"No!" squealed Malloy. "Forgive me. I did not mean to…!"
Something thumped heavily, like a body dropped from a height.
"Go now," hissed Vor (not as alluring and charming as his voice once had sounded). "Remember YOU can be replaced at any time. I doubt you will find the transition pleasant. No further warning will be given."
Suzi heard Malloy's obsequious apologies as he scurried out. All this time she had been thinking furiously, her mind no longer in a fog. Was this a joke? An acting test? She wanted to think so, but every terrorized instinct told her otherwise.
Strong hands closed on her and her eyes flew open as she prepared to fight free. Vor held her in an iron grasp as his servants flooded the room. He was still handsome and alluring, but now like a beautiful deadly snake and nothing that she desired to touch. Cold; cold as ice, cold as death was his touch.
"My little eavesdropper," hissed Vor. "You have a journey to make."
Suzi tried to fight free, but it was useless. She watched Bunny and Marian being carried off through the expensively-furnished room, their forms limps, their eyes closed.
Her captor followed her glance. "You have feelings for your co-stars? Friends, are they? If you cooperate with me, they will not be hurt. In fact, they will continue to lead happy and productive human lives. For what that is worth."
Suzi forbade to tell him that she wasn't quite so noble. Let the crazy bastard think he had her by the short hairs. "Okay," she let her fear show openly in her trembling voice. "What do you want me to do? Sleep with you? Please please don't hurt me!"
She sensed perfectly well that sex had nothing to do with this, but let Vor (if this even was Vor and not a "replacement") think that she was that stupid. Suzi had grown up the hard way with very little advantages, seen an amazing amount of crazy shit, and one of the keys to survival, in her opinion, was that there were times to let the enemy think you are stupid and weak as possible.
Vor sneered contemptuously. "As if a god would mate with an earthworm. You disgust me! But you will be a fine vessel for M'lashanra."
Suzi let the despair show in her face. Acting lessons plus life's lessons had forged her to be as crafty as any spy. "Please. You're stronger than me. If you don't hurt me, I'll do anything you say. But you're scaring me. If you can just explain, I promise I'll be good."
Vor relaxed his grip momentarily and sat down next to her, casually. Suzi could hear the sound of activity in the background. She felt there were only moments to spare before something dreadful occurred. She had to know what!
"Very well, little one," acceded Vor, like a perfect host, "I'll explain and you'll obey, yes?"
Suzi nodded her head vigorously in assent.
"My people have a growing presence in your society. We monitor your world for certain types of anomalies that tend to crop up in some professions more than others. YOU are such an anomaly and pose a threat. Therefore you need to be removed."
Her host craftily watched her reactions to his statements. Suzi was diligent in providing the correct amount of horror, despair and disbelief. She didn't care if what he said was true, false, or completely lunatic – she just needed him to keep talking until she found a loophole, a handhold--something she could use to her advantage.
Vor leaned back, crossing his legs and continued, while running a hand through her long white-blonde hair and tugging it. "This execrable television show you're in. It is producing a strange result in certain children. A result we do not desire. Our research shows this is usually due to the influence of one of the show's principle actors."
"What do you mean?" gasped Suzi, falsely timid and bewildered. "I was influencing children strangely? How?"
Vor pulled her face close to his as if he meant to eat her. "Magic, my dear," he snarled. "Or what your people call magic. Stupid human-born magic." He shoved her away. "We don't need any of that on your planet. We like you humans the way you are – stupid, helpless, and greedy. And getting worse all the time. We're very pleased with this country's election results, by the way. This is a very promising time for us to bring in more of our people."
"So you're saying, I … influenced children with magic?" puzzled Suzi. (She was increasingly less inclined to think there were actually aliens present and more inclined to think Vor was absolutely insane.) "But I don't have any magic! I'm not even Wiccan. Or Pagan. Or any of those!"
Now, that wasn't strictly true, but Suzi was very careful in covering her tracks. Paparazzi were everywhere.
"Consider the conversation closed," sighed Vor, standing up and tugging at her hand. "There's no use trying to explain anything to you humans."
Suzi obediently stood up, signaling her complete compliance, but continued to batter him with questions. "Please, sir. If I'm about to die, please let me know why."
"You're not going to die," said Vor, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least not here. Necessarily. I have no responsibility for you after the transfer. But the death sentence for your kind is not yet sanctioned. Though I have no doubt the council will eventually vote otherwise."
Suzi whimpered. She could see she was irritating Vor and that he was on the edge of an explosion. In the next moment, he grasped her chin. "YES! You have magic, you idiot human. Obviously, untapped and unrefined power. We tested you and your co-workers and have proved it was you creating the problem. Therefore, you will be rooted out and replaced. Your family and loved ones will never suffer. We will put one of our agents in your place and no one will never know the difference. Your replacement will quit the show today and start work as the star of my new movie. Everything is arranged."
Suzi's eyes opened wide. "And you replaced the real Vor."
Her enemy sighed. "Of course, you witless child. Don't tell me you just realized that?" His head swung around in response to his butler's hand signal. "We're ready to begin the transfer. Come along."
"I won't fight you," lied Suzi in her tiny "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl" voice, meekly and despondently walking next to him. "Just please tell me where you're sending me to so I don't act incorrectly. Otherwise, I may scream and cry and try to run away. Just because I am so afraid. Not because I want to behave badly."
Vor stood still in the doorway and considered this. "Hmm. That has been quite a problem with the transfers. Perhaps there is some merit in your request. Just know that you will arrive safely in a world which may misleadingly appear to be much like your own. One of our agents will have charge of you. Your earth memories will be erased. Sometimes the procedure is effective immediately and sometimes it needs to be repeated. However, as long as you cooperate, our people will not harm you. You will be provided for. But, if you ever try to escape and succeed – we will not be able to protect you. And you will most likely die a horrible death."
He smiled at her maliciously. "Consider that carefully."
Vor's people led her to a strangely constructed room full of odd devices (including what seemed to be a mummy case on a platform that absolutely gave her the willies). Suzi surveyed the room and tried to plan an escape. If she pretended to faint… and broke that container over there – well, it looked to be glass. Then she could pick up a shard and stab --. A sharp pain made her exclaim. A grim stranger in a white coat was pulling a syringe out of her arm.
Everything went dark.
. . .
Suzi was sleeping, dreaming, sleeping. Now the dream because more clear. She was in a car, in the front passenger seat. She was so drowsy she could barely open her eyes. Warm and comfortable. Like some sweet drug was in her system that caressed her nervous system.
She was able to turn her head and look at the driver. A fair-haired and pleasant-faced young man was behind the wheel. He looked lost and was mumbling to himself. There was a sizeable black box down by her feet in the front.
Suzi woke up a little more and began to sit up. The driver didn't seem alarmed by this, even though they were complete strangers. He looked over at her and murmured, "I've lost Highway 9." Or at least she thought he said that. Although his lips hadn't actually moved and he didn't stop driving. They were in the middle of a primitive landscape: slabs of rock, bleached skulls along the roadside, and no sign of any buildings or manmade objects.
What a silly dream this was. Suzi smiled. "It's over there, that way," she told the boy, pointing out the direction.
"Oh," he said, "right!" He made a left turn.
After about 20 minutes, she was able to see the sea, bright and shining in the far distance. All would be well. She felt happy. The young man would be able to find their way now. She felt herself slipping back into the lightest of slumbers, awaiting their arrival at the ocean. Her eyes would occasionally flutter open and then shut again.
As they seemed about to pass some kind of upscale work camp in a jungle-like setting, the vehicle stopped and there were voices arguing.
Suzi fought for awareness but it was terribly hard. She was dimly aware of time passing and finally awoke with a jolt, fully conscious and remembering everything that had transpired at the quasi-producer's home. HOLY CRAP! The car door was open on the passenger side, but she was in the driver's seat. Alone. Instead of being near the ocean, or a work camp in a jungle, the parked car was headed towards a huge gully. There were wild animals in the distance (but not distant enough!).
Suzi stared at the beasts as they prowled, postured, and screamed out challenges at each other. They were not of any species to be found on earth. Holy fucking shit. Time to figure things out later. She didn't know where her driver was or how she came to be in the driver's seat. She scrambled over and slammed shut the passenger door. Thankfully, the car was in working order and she backed out of the gully in a hurry.
The animals seemed more interested in fighting each other than in pursuing her, thus making her escape easy. Soon she pulled to a stop, looking around her helplessly. Where to go, what to do? She had to face the possibility that she was on a different planet. Well, so fucking what? That didn't mean she was going to cave in, going to break down and cry.
She mentally reviewed the foggy memories of the places they had passed. Where was the driver? How had she ended up behind the wheel? There was no way in hell she wanted to go near the place that looked like a prison camp. (She had a really bad feeling about that.)
Taking a deep breath, she did one of her focusing and calming exercises, pulling energy up from the ground to fill her whole body. As she did that, she felt a tremendous power surge through her and she could see her hands were glowing. What was happening now was real and amazing. What was happening was magic. Magic like she had never known it. She felt like she could do anything.
Suzi looked into the distance, gimlet-eyed. She didn't know what the hell was going on, exactly, but she was going to find out and bring these suckers down. She swore it.
Boom Boom Joykick watched helplessly, fists clenched, as her best friend Daphne was hauled away by the gang of thugs, one of them holding a knife to Daphne's throat. The slightest pressure and her subclavian artery would be slashed. Boom Boom cursed them viciously, but Daphne's captors just laughed mockingly, knowing the little terror didn't dare make a move on them.
"The boss just wanted insurance, Boom Boom," purred Ratface Roy. "As soon the shipment leaves the city with NO complications, you'll have your pal back. Mostly in one piece."
The other men snickered as Daphne whimpered beneath the meaty hand placed over her rosebud mouth.
Boom Boom had told Daphne to stay away from Ratface, but the naïve girl had believed the man's lies, eating up his flattery like it was gummy bears. Ratface was just misunderstood, protested Daphne (and besides that, he was falling in love with her, she was sure). Now, too late, Daphne knew the truth.
"Bye bye!" called Ratface mockingly as they piled into the waiting helicopter (sadly crumpling the pathetic little bows on Daphne's summer dress).
The helicopter quickly became just a dot in the sky.
Boom Boom raced to the edge of the building's roof, visually tracking them as long as she could with her sharpened senses. Ah, they were heading to the old peanut processing factory along the Hudson River. This was one of their lairs that she had scouted out long ago, but which had appeared deserted until now.
She needed to beat them there!
Boom Boom scrunched up her eyes (looking adorably bad ass in her tiny black shorts and clinging tank top displaying the picture of a smiling teddy bear holding a bloody axe) and concentrated on the magic stone in her hand. "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl, I need you NOW!"
There was a radiant flash of cotton candy-colored sparkles and ExtraSpecial Magic Girl appeared in a swirl of shimmering white robes fluttering over a purple underdress and tied with a deep pink sash. Her theme music played in her head as she blinked huge purple eyes, shook out her long silvery hair, and looked soulfully at Boom Boom. "You called?" she asked in a tiny feminine voice.
AND …. CUT!" shouted the director. "Good job, people. That's all for today."
"About fuckin' time," grumbled Suzi (aka Extraspecial Magic Girl) as an assistant helped pop out her purple contact lenses. "I got a manicure at eight and then a hot HOT date."
"Anyone we know?" asked Marian (aka Daphne or "Stupid & Naïve" -- as the cast liked to call her) with a sly smile.
"No one she WANTS us to know," snickered Bunny (Boom Boom Joykick), picking up another bruise as she clumsily bumped into a heavy prop.
As the three actresses began to make a mad dash to their trailer dressing rooms, their agent, "Killjoy" Malloy, stepped in front of them. "Wait, I have to talk to the three of you." He looked admonishingly at the crew, who were openly eavesdropping and lowered his voice. "URGENTLY. But not here. Meet me at Vern's Whiskey & Malt Shop in 15 minutes."
Malloy then scurried away like the little cockroach he was, pretending not to hear them cursing him out.
Forty minutes later, as Malloy nursed his third malt, the girls started to trickle in belligerently. Malloy straightened up in his seat and held out his hands in defense against a deluge of questions. "Just listen to me, okay?" he pleaded.
There were grumbles, but as Malloy said the magic words "major studio," "movie," and "starring role," he quickly got their undivided attention. He gulped nervously as he got to the part where he had to tell them this was not a remake of their blossoming t.v. series and would star only ONE of them.
"The producer wants to meet you first. All of you," he hastily clarified. "The script's not set in stone yet and it could go in any direction. And no, I can't tell you his name in advance."
"OH MAH GAWD," protested Suzi loudly, "Is this going to be some casting couch sleazebag shit?"
Several other occupants of the malt shop shot dirty looks at their booth. Bunny cringed internally and sat on her hands as if to distance herself. Marian simply smoothed her hair and tilted her face to make sure that she was presenting an excellent profile (in case any cell phones were focused on her lovely visage).
"No, no!" fussed Malloy, "Nothing like that. I mean, I don't THINK so. But…you might kinda need to convince him that you're -- you know . . . ." He flapped his hands helplessly.
The girls shot a weary glance at each other.
"Yeah, we know," sighed Marian. "That we're like the characters that we play. That is SO stupid."
"Ah, come on," begged Suzi, "tell me this isn't some 40-something-year-old guy that sleeps with a body pillow of his waifu."
Malloy pressed his lips together in a tight line and looked at them unblinkingly. (God forbid that the young harridans ever discover him with a picture of his husbando. He'd never hear the end of it.)
Suzi slurped the last dregs of her drink voraciously and sprinkled some pink "fairy dust" on the counter, as Killjoy Malloy pressed on with the details. The limo would pick them up tomorrow morning, blah, blah, blah.
As their waitress approached them with a weary demeanor and stared pointedly at the pile of "fairy" dust, Suzi shrugged and grinned, "Just keeping the legend alive." Suzi knew she often acted like an annoying careless flake, but that was just part of her act to get through life. A girl had to have some fun.
Malloy left an extra-large tip for the fairy mess; the girls might not hang out here much, but he did!
That night (or at least early morning) as each young lady finally fell asleep, they had a dream. A very vivid dream….
Suzi was the first to be picked up by the limo at the incredibly early hour of 10 a.m. She glanced at the bed. Her date from last night was still asleep and snoring like some prehistoric animal. Ugh. That was like, minus 40 on the adorability scale. She wanted to talk to someone about her dream, but obviously it wasn't going to be him. She could barely wait until her two co-stars got in the vehicle.
"Buns! Mare! I had the weirdest dream!" Bunny and Marian almost dropped their caramel brulée lattes as they stared at Suzi.
"Don't CALL me that!" Marian and Bunny protested in unison.
Suzi apologized half-heartedly, "Sorry, yeah?" Then she stared distractedly at their drinks. "Do you guys even KNOW how many calories are in that shit? Way to pudge up, girls. Anyways, about my dream…"
"Wait," protested Marian, "I had a weird dream, too! Maybe we got dosed with something."
Bunny stared at them poutily. "You guys partied together last night and didn't ask ME?!"
"Ah shite, Buns," sighed Suzi, "You're not street legal yet. We'll party together in January when you hit 21."
Bunny scowled. "Yeah, well I had a weird dream too and no one dosed me with anything."
The three girls started talking excitedly over each other in the mysterious way that some people have of talking and listening at the same time. Each one of them had received a dream "visitation" from a shiny doppelganger, promising them what they wanted most in life in exchange for …
And there the conversation broke off.
There was some shifting and squirming on the luxurious seating. No one wanted to say what the terms of their particular offer consisted of. And no one wanted to pry because that meant THEY would have to put their cards on the table as well. Plus each of them was kind of freaked the hell out because … for them to have the same dream?!? Too eerie. Too … real. But also … exciting.
It was a distracted group that piled into the front door of the hideous pink mansionette. Marian barely had enough focus to reapply her lipstick. Suzi half-heartedly hefted her tits to their best advantage. Bunny fluffed her short hairdo with contempt.
It was like . . . suddenly a line was drawn in the sand (in the sand of life, thought Marian, proudly aware that she was being deep) and that line would never go away. Well, hmm, then it was more like a line drawn in concrete than sand. Though if the concrete were wet, it could still be erased.
She was still trying to work the concept out, when the butler led them to the drawing room and ushered them into the smiling presence of Vor Milekh, the successful producer and director of such hit movies as "Bambi In Outer Space," "Demon On A Half-Shell," "Cowgirl Kickstop," "High School Summer Camp Sleepover," "The Awful Truth (And A Few Wonderful Lies) About Sasha," and many more.
Vor was beautiful. He was tall and graceful with a slim but powerful build. His abundant and silky dark blonde hair curled over the back of his collar. His laughing blue eyes were like dusky sapphires. He radiated charm and attentiveness. He was like a creature from another world.
The young ladies found themselves swept off their feet. Of course they had seen photos of Vor in People, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. But they never expected a man this old (why he must be over 40 at least, considering when his first hit came out) to be so attractive, so interesting, so enchanting. They sat down without any recollection of really doing so, with their mouths hanging slightly open.
Killjoy Malloy was there too, a dull beetle of a man, next to this glorious phoenix. No one had eyes for him. He was like a shadow: insubstantial, almost invisible.
Vor chatted with the girls for several minutes. For the life of them, they couldn't remember what was said as the butler brought in breakfast pastries and drinks. They felt themselves drawn into the curve of Vor's smile, the sparkle of his eyes, the intimate glance that seemed to read their secret thoughts and promise them – something that made them tingle to their very toes.
None of them noticed the subtle signals exchanged in the room. Between Vor and Killjoy. Between Vor and his butler.
Suzi felt very sleepy as she relaxed into the couch. Her eyes shut. She heard voices – as if distant and unconnected with her. Like the faint shouts of children on a playground blocks away.
"Good job, Malloy," commended Vor. "Through the dream testing, this interview and other analysis, we've ascertained the source of the problem. We will send the two lesser ones home, making sure they recollect nothing of what actually transpired here and providing them with new memories."
"Yessir," the agent replied humbly. "But which one is the problem?"
Vor chuckled throatily. "Quite a jest, but it's your Magic Girl."
"Eh, take her and good riddance," grumbled Malloy. "I'm always having to clean up her frigging 'fairy dust.' I assume I'll get a replacement?"
There was a moment of frigid silence. In the meantime, Suzi's heart gave a great thump and she came to full alert, but kept her eyes closely shut and didn't move a muscle.
"Human, you annoy me," growled Vor. "Of course, there will be a replacement. Not for YOUR convenience, but so that the balance between worlds can be maintained. Or perhaps you are telling me how to do my job?"
There was the sound of gliding footsteps across a polished floor and then a slight struggle followed by cries of pain.
"No!" squealed Malloy. "Forgive me. I did not mean to…!"
Something thumped heavily, like a body dropped from a height.
"Go now," hissed Vor (not as alluring and charming as his voice once had sounded). "Remember YOU can be replaced at any time. I doubt you will find the transition pleasant. No further warning will be given."
Suzi heard Malloy's obsequious apologies as he scurried out. All this time she had been thinking furiously, her mind no longer in a fog. Was this a joke? An acting test? She wanted to think so, but every terrorized instinct told her otherwise.
Strong hands closed on her and her eyes flew open as she prepared to fight free. Vor held her in an iron grasp as his servants flooded the room. He was still handsome and alluring, but now like a beautiful deadly snake and nothing that she desired to touch. Cold; cold as ice, cold as death was his touch.
"My little eavesdropper," hissed Vor. "You have a journey to make."
Suzi tried to fight free, but it was useless. She watched Bunny and Marian being carried off through the expensively-furnished room, their forms limps, their eyes closed.
Her captor followed her glance. "You have feelings for your co-stars? Friends, are they? If you cooperate with me, they will not be hurt. In fact, they will continue to lead happy and productive human lives. For what that is worth."
Suzi forbade to tell him that she wasn't quite so noble. Let the crazy bastard think he had her by the short hairs. "Okay," she let her fear show openly in her trembling voice. "What do you want me to do? Sleep with you? Please please don't hurt me!"
She sensed perfectly well that sex had nothing to do with this, but let Vor (if this even was Vor and not a "replacement") think that she was that stupid. Suzi had grown up the hard way with very little advantages, seen an amazing amount of crazy shit, and one of the keys to survival, in her opinion, was that there were times to let the enemy think you are stupid and weak as possible.
Vor sneered contemptuously. "As if a god would mate with an earthworm. You disgust me! But you will be a fine vessel for M'lashanra."
Suzi let the despair show in her face. Acting lessons plus life's lessons had forged her to be as crafty as any spy. "Please. You're stronger than me. If you don't hurt me, I'll do anything you say. But you're scaring me. If you can just explain, I promise I'll be good."
Vor relaxed his grip momentarily and sat down next to her, casually. Suzi could hear the sound of activity in the background. She felt there were only moments to spare before something dreadful occurred. She had to know what!
"Very well, little one," acceded Vor, like a perfect host, "I'll explain and you'll obey, yes?"
Suzi nodded her head vigorously in assent.
"My people have a growing presence in your society. We monitor your world for certain types of anomalies that tend to crop up in some professions more than others. YOU are such an anomaly and pose a threat. Therefore you need to be removed."
Her host craftily watched her reactions to his statements. Suzi was diligent in providing the correct amount of horror, despair and disbelief. She didn't care if what he said was true, false, or completely lunatic – she just needed him to keep talking until she found a loophole, a handhold--something she could use to her advantage.
Vor leaned back, crossing his legs and continued, while running a hand through her long white-blonde hair and tugging it. "This execrable television show you're in. It is producing a strange result in certain children. A result we do not desire. Our research shows this is usually due to the influence of one of the show's principle actors."
"What do you mean?" gasped Suzi, falsely timid and bewildered. "I was influencing children strangely? How?"
Vor pulled her face close to his as if he meant to eat her. "Magic, my dear," he snarled. "Or what your people call magic. Stupid human-born magic." He shoved her away. "We don't need any of that on your planet. We like you humans the way you are – stupid, helpless, and greedy. And getting worse all the time. We're very pleased with this country's election results, by the way. This is a very promising time for us to bring in more of our people."
"So you're saying, I … influenced children with magic?" puzzled Suzi. (She was increasingly less inclined to think there were actually aliens present and more inclined to think Vor was absolutely insane.) "But I don't have any magic! I'm not even Wiccan. Or Pagan. Or any of those!"
Now, that wasn't strictly true, but Suzi was very careful in covering her tracks. Paparazzi were everywhere.
"Consider the conversation closed," sighed Vor, standing up and tugging at her hand. "There's no use trying to explain anything to you humans."
Suzi obediently stood up, signaling her complete compliance, but continued to batter him with questions. "Please, sir. If I'm about to die, please let me know why."
"You're not going to die," said Vor, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least not here. Necessarily. I have no responsibility for you after the transfer. But the death sentence for your kind is not yet sanctioned. Though I have no doubt the council will eventually vote otherwise."
Suzi whimpered. She could see she was irritating Vor and that he was on the edge of an explosion. In the next moment, he grasped her chin. "YES! You have magic, you idiot human. Obviously, untapped and unrefined power. We tested you and your co-workers and have proved it was you creating the problem. Therefore, you will be rooted out and replaced. Your family and loved ones will never suffer. We will put one of our agents in your place and no one will never know the difference. Your replacement will quit the show today and start work as the star of my new movie. Everything is arranged."
Suzi's eyes opened wide. "And you replaced the real Vor."
Her enemy sighed. "Of course, you witless child. Don't tell me you just realized that?" His head swung around in response to his butler's hand signal. "We're ready to begin the transfer. Come along."
"I won't fight you," lied Suzi in her tiny "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl" voice, meekly and despondently walking next to him. "Just please tell me where you're sending me to so I don't act incorrectly. Otherwise, I may scream and cry and try to run away. Just because I am so afraid. Not because I want to behave badly."
Vor stood still in the doorway and considered this. "Hmm. That has been quite a problem with the transfers. Perhaps there is some merit in your request. Just know that you will arrive safely in a world which may misleadingly appear to be much like your own. One of our agents will have charge of you. Your earth memories will be erased. Sometimes the procedure is effective immediately and sometimes it needs to be repeated. However, as long as you cooperate, our people will not harm you. You will be provided for. But, if you ever try to escape and succeed – we will not be able to protect you. And you will most likely die a horrible death."
He smiled at her maliciously. "Consider that carefully."
Vor's people led her to a strangely constructed room full of odd devices (including what seemed to be a mummy case on a platform that absolutely gave her the willies). Suzi surveyed the room and tried to plan an escape. If she pretended to faint… and broke that container over there – well, it looked to be glass. Then she could pick up a shard and stab --. A sharp pain made her exclaim. A grim stranger in a white coat was pulling a syringe out of her arm.
Everything went dark.
. . .
Suzi was sleeping, dreaming, sleeping. Now the dream because more clear. She was in a car, in the front passenger seat. She was so drowsy she could barely open her eyes. Warm and comfortable. Like some sweet drug was in her system that caressed her nervous system.
She was able to turn her head and look at the driver. A fair-haired and pleasant-faced young man was behind the wheel. He looked lost and was mumbling to himself. There was a sizeable black box down by her feet in the front.
Suzi woke up a little more and began to sit up. The driver didn't seem alarmed by this, even though they were complete strangers. He looked over at her and murmured, "I've lost Highway 9." Or at least she thought he said that. Although his lips hadn't actually moved and he didn't stop driving. They were in the middle of a primitive landscape: slabs of rock, bleached skulls along the roadside, and no sign of any buildings or manmade objects.
What a silly dream this was. Suzi smiled. "It's over there, that way," she told the boy, pointing out the direction.
"Oh," he said, "right!" He made a left turn.
After about 20 minutes, she was able to see the sea, bright and shining in the far distance. All would be well. She felt happy. The young man would be able to find their way now. She felt herself slipping back into the lightest of slumbers, awaiting their arrival at the ocean. Her eyes would occasionally flutter open and then shut again.
As they seemed about to pass some kind of upscale work camp in a jungle-like setting, the vehicle stopped and there were voices arguing.
Suzi fought for awareness but it was terribly hard. She was dimly aware of time passing and finally awoke with a jolt, fully conscious and remembering everything that had transpired at the quasi-producer's home. HOLY CRAP! The car door was open on the passenger side, but she was in the driver's seat. Alone. Instead of being near the ocean, or a work camp in a jungle, the parked car was headed towards a huge gully. There were wild animals in the distance (but not distant enough!).
Suzi stared at the beasts as they prowled, postured, and screamed out challenges at each other. They were not of any species to be found on earth. Holy fucking shit. Time to figure things out later. She didn't know where her driver was or how she came to be in the driver's seat. She scrambled over and slammed shut the passenger door. Thankfully, the car was in working order and she backed out of the gully in a hurry.
The animals seemed more interested in fighting each other than in pursuing her, thus making her escape easy. Soon she pulled to a stop, looking around her helplessly. Where to go, what to do? She had to face the possibility that she was on a different planet. Well, so fucking what? That didn't mean she was going to cave in, going to break down and cry.
She mentally reviewed the foggy memories of the places they had passed. Where was the driver? How had she ended up behind the wheel? There was no way in hell she wanted to go near the place that looked like a prison camp. (She had a really bad feeling about that.)
Taking a deep breath, she did one of her focusing and calming exercises, pulling energy up from the ground to fill her whole body. As she did that, she felt a tremendous power surge through her and she could see her hands were glowing. What was happening now was real and amazing. What was happening was magic. Magic like she had never known it. She felt like she could do anything.
Suzi looked into the distance, gimlet-eyed. She didn't know what the hell was going on, exactly, but she was going to find out and bring these suckers down. She swore it.
Pew, pew!
Simona hated working night shifts. The small convenience store was bordering the outskirts of the town, too far for most public transport -- which meant the young clerk had to walk a few miles after dropping off the closest bus stop. Glen's Stop-By was a popular store for night owls, those who drove through the night between their town and the bigger city half a dozen miles away. They were usually two clerks at night, "just in case", but tonight Simona's coworker had called in sick and no one else had been able to take his place on such short notice. She wasn't too worried though, as things were nearly always quiet, and for all the night shifts she had worked, not once had there been enough commotion to warrant for two night shifters.
Winter was already closing up on them, and tonight was no exception. Glen's Stop-By was in the middle of a whirlwind of snow, with its buddy building Frankendiner, which was also still open, a few yards away. The owner's daughter, Ginny, came over once every couple nights to hang out with them and probably just to eat candy. Loyal to her habit, the little girl came dashing through the door, sounding the doorbell loudly.
"Simoooona!" The cheeky little pest grinned at the clerk, her two front teeth missing. Her boots were untied and her coat was already unzipped by the time Simona stepped out from behind the counter.
"Hey there Ginny! It's just me tonight, Petrov is sick." The woman's voice was gruff and deep, and didn't match her appearance at all. Ginny was probably the only person in the world who didn't think this was odd. "I brought the movie Princess Bride if you wanna watch something." A warm smile spread on the woman's tired face, even reaching her eyes.
The little girl clapped her hands and ran off to grab a chocolate milk bottle. Her father always paid her "tab" at the end of the week, something Simona thought was rather endearing. She pulled out her ratty laptop and pushed the DVD in, and within a few minutes Ginny was sitting comfortably on a case of soda cans, wrapped in a warm blanket. Simona sat next to her, before pulling the girl on her lap, and began brushing her hair. It was thick and black, resonating with the girl's African-American heritage, but the clerk had the delicacy and dexterity to properly braid it. Ginny's father was a widower, and he didn't often have the time to do those little things with his daughter -- especially since she was one of five siblings.
"Hey, Simona?" The girl's voice was quiet, as though she didn't want to disturb the people talking in the movie.
"Yeah?"
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Why do some customers call you "sir"? You're a girl!" The annoyance and indignation were crystal clear in her voice, which caused Simona to smile despite herself.
"Some people are mean, or don't understand those who are different. It's all right, you don't need to worry about me, little star." She fussed with her braids again, before slipping the small girl back on the boxes.
"Pfft! If they're meanies, I'll just pew pew them!" Ginny made a pouty face, but it didn't last long once she saw Simona giggling and shaking her head. Her shoulders untensed and with a playful shrug, she went back to the movie.
In truth, every time something like this happened, it etched a mark on Simona's confidence. She was a woman for fuck's sake and no one would ever be able to rob her of that. It hadn't come to her attention that Ginny had been aware of those comments, and in truth it tore her to know the kid was worried about her. Those were not matters for a child to be upset about, and once again Simona had after-thoughts about letting her hang out here in the backstore… But she couldn't bring herself to ever refuse to let the kid hang out here. All that was needed was a little bit more backbone, and perhaps a softer voice and a more delicate face… Simona shook her head. No, she couldn't let herself think like this.
For the next hour or so, while Ginny was laughing and watching one of the best movies ever, Simona cleaned up the store. First step was sweeping the floors (which felt quite futile considering how half of it was wet and dirty from the snow), followed by a good mopping. Those were her regular chores -- their manager had insisted she work mostly in the backstore, and do the majority of the cleaning. Sometimes the woman wondered if anyone else ever washed those damn floors; they were always so grimy, and spots she KNEW had been cleaned when her shift ended at 8 AM were somehow covered with badly wiped soda. She had an idea or two as to why this was happening, but she refused to give in to their torments.
The movie was over a bit before Simona finished washing the bathroom. She could hear the young girl repeat some of the catch phrases, and it made her grin again. The little pest was beyond adorable, and it warmed her heart to have the chance to spend time with her. She was any babysitter's dream.
"Simona, the movie's done! Can I play a game now?" Her braided head peeked out from the doorway, but she couldn't find the clerk right away. "Hide-and-seek then!!" She shouted with renewed pep in her step. Just as she got to the front of the store, the bell jingled and a pair of older men walked in. They looked like truckers, or maybe just fat mechanics, but they certainly didn't look like they were in a peppy mood like the young girl.
The taller man eyed the little black girl. "Where's yer dad, lil 'un?" He was slurring badly, and Ginny recognized the smell of liquor, or whatever it was they served at her dad's restaurant to older people. She took a step back and eyed the backstore.
"Um, my dad doesn't work here. Simona works here. SI-MO-NAAA!" She yelled for her friend, and just a few seconds later, the clerk popped out from the bathroom and made her way behind the counter. She ushered Ginny to follow her and smiled politely at the two drunk-looking men. "Welcome to Glen's Stop-By!"
"Hah! That's yer dad, innit?" The second man replied, and both of them laughed throatily and without reserve. Ginny frowned and looked up at Simona, expecting her to tell them off. But she couldn't – they were customers.
"Ha-ha, funny, sir. I'll be here if you need me." Her eyes nervously watched the inebriated men as they headed for the alcohol section. The clock reminded her they had about twenty minutes left before she had to lock down the booze.
Simona regretted her previous musings about how she didn't need a second clerk with her at night. Those men were terrifying her, and she had to think of little Ginny whose mouth wouldn't remain shut at the worst of times. "They're being meanies, Simona. I'm gonna have to pew pew them." The clerk shook her head and brought a finger to her lips, signaling Ginny to keep quiet. In return, a pout spread across her childish face, her dark eyes strangely focusing right through Simona. Those same dark eyes drifted away slowly in direct of the two men, who were still being loud and the taller one even broke a bottle, earning rocky laughter from his mate.
Five minutes before she would have to lock up the alcohol.
Okay, if they wanted an additional minute, she would not legally be allowed to sell them their booze. Hoping they would not berate her, the woman called out at them. "Um, sorry sir, county law says I have to stop alcohol sale in a minute. Let's pay those first and you can continue shopping after!" Her deep voice felt like a stranger's, entirely unrepresentative of what Simona looked and felt like. It was perhaps the most difficult aspect of her transition to accept, but there is was – the lady with a manly voice. Their raucous laughter reached the front of the store and soon enough they were dropping bottles and snacks on the counter.
"Yer a pretty lady. Gotta show later 'night?" More mocking laughs.
"Yeah, yer as hot as my wife! Ha ha ha!" The two men were laughing so hard, tears were peeking out from the corner of their eyes. Simona forced a smile and began scanning their items, looking down and towards Ginny once in a while. The girl had taken out her little plastic gun, and was muttering "Pew, pew, pew" which managed to warm the clerk even just a tiny bit.
"The total will be $40.50." The items were placed in bags rapidly but the men seemed to be lazing around with their payment.
"Y'know what tranny, I think we're good here. Sure you can pay this off for us."
"Yeah, what he said."
Ginny knew that was a bad word, a terrible word. Her father had explained what it meant, and that mean people used it to hurt a trans person. With a frown, she got up from her hiding spot behind the counter and pointed her pink gun at the impolite drunkards.
"That's a BAD word! Say you're sorry, mister!" Her voice was loud and unmistakably childish. The men peered over the counter at her and exploded in even more laughter. Simona's eyes widened and she tried to hush the girl back, trying to grab the toy gun away.
"Oh man, he even has a n***** daughter! Disgusting!"
Simona's cheeks turned bright red, but not because she felt embarrassed. She was fucking pissed now.
"Look sir, either give me the money you owe, or get the fuck out."
"Ohh look at him getting all pissy! He's a pussy a'ight!"
Ginny gritted her teeth and slipped between the older woman's arms to confront the two men. "SHUT UP! Pew pew!" She finger-gunned them angrily, her teeth baring and her other hand trying to reach for her toy gun.
The girl was picked up by Simona again and she pushed her away this time. "Get out or I call the cops."
"Fucking she-man, crossdresser piece of shit! Ha ha ha! With his black bastard daughter, playing mommy!" The taller man chuckled but handed out his money, while the other man kept laughing and holding his sides, as though he was having the greatest time of his life. "Ne'er comin' back here, unless it's to take a piece o'that little black bitch."
Before his friend could reply something else, Simona's fist met with his nose and everyone could hear the loud crunch. Blood splashed everywhere and the man yelled in pain, dropping his bags and clutching his face. The other one looked at Simona, and she could see how pissed off and slightly scared he was. "Fucking crazy bastard! Let's get out of here!"
"That'll be crazy bitch, thank you. If I ever see you here again, the gun won't be a pink toy!" She yelled back at them as they hurried out the door, leaving a trail of red on the freshly cleaned floor. "Fuck…" Simona shook her hand, the adrenaline probably taking care of her soon-to-bruise joints, and she looked at Ginny, preparing an apology. Kids shouldn't hear or see that kind of crap.
"L-look, Ginny, I'm so—"
"OH MY GOD! SIMONA! THAT WAS SO COOL! WOW!" Her face was erased from any kind of anger or fright, instead replaced with admiration and excitement. "YOU WERE SO BADASS!! OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE HIS FACE?!" The little girl was jumping up and down, clapping her hands madly.
"N-no, that was me losing my temper, Ginny. Grownups don't do that."
"YES they DO! Those men were meanies and you TAUGHT THEM GOOD!" Her smile was so sincere, so innocent, that Simona let her shoulders drop and she sighed, hands on her hips and shaking her head.
"We have a mess to clean up now. C'mon, little miss badass."