Chapter Nineteen:
Hazing Is Fun

by Tami, Kia, Lori, Jenny~Pie, Lexi and Angie

Nighttime. For a great many young people of the city of Roanoke, the night had become a thing of uncertainty. Beds and pillows had been swapped for often-garish fukus, the uniform of the senshi, and dreams for patrolling duty, almost mindlessly looking for the enemy that might never come.

And thus, now, many of them feared the night. The night's fears might also be enhanced if they knew what was waiting in the darkness - a murderously grinning Sailor Hephaestos, clad in full fuku with the filtered light of the streetlights twinkling off of the clunky shaped metal she had to call her legs, waiting in the dark...

However, the fear might also be dispelled if the unwary newcomer knew that the redheaded senshi was busily complaining to another, slightly more benevolent figure in the shadows as both waited for the two other Graikos to arrive.

"I can't believe you came along," Sailor Hephaestos complained to her companion. "How can I show the fuckin' newbies if you're on the sidelines with that stupid hat? They'll go all stupid. You know how they all drool over you. Hell, even Sophie goes almost starry-eyed. It's a liability."

Tyche shrugged, flashing a devilishly enticing grin. "What can I say but sorry, Heph?" he offered. He leaned back against a nearby tree and pulled off his white flat-brimmed hat to study it. Green eyes flashed then as he looked up to meet her gaze again. "I can ditch it but then it'd get trashed, right?" Jauntily, he reset it on his dark hair. "Anyway, I like it," he added. Raising a dark eyebrow, he chuckled. "Drool, huh?"

Hephaestos rolled her eyes and paced slowly, glaring at him. "Yes, drool. You know drool. Aphrodite practically wets her pants when you're around, but seeing that you're the only male next to Hyperion in the team, that's not exactly hard. And don't do that winking thing. Shit, boy. You go so Jack-Daniels Cowboy-ad when you turn Tyche."

Tyhce chuckled again, a rich sound echoing in the stillness. "Sorry again," he apologized, not sounding all that contrite after all. "And here I thought I was more Mel Gibson ala Maverick." He paused then and smiled gently. "Alright, Heph. I'll do my best to keep my trap shut and not piss you off."

She waved a hand dismissively at him. "Don't bother. Keep on talking. I know you can't help it. Just like Leta can't help being a ditzy blonde when she's Aphrodite - wait, she's like that all the time." Hephaestos swiped his hat off his head and tried it on in the interim. "At least you try, anyway."

Tyche nodded and gazed out over the dark and shadowy scenery before them. "And I'm punctual," he teased. "Where are these other ladies?"

"No idea. If they don't show up, they're dead meat."

A little further down the dimly lit street sat Hecate, awaiting her less criminous teammate, Sailor Persephone. The bright idea of waiting for another senshi was a grand piece of advice given to her by the fox Medea who lay to her side. They would have ventured on to meet up with Hephaestos, but what Hecate hadn't heard about the girl from the students at ISAS, Metis orated after her last battle.

Assuming Persephone was going to be late, Hecate decided to take her chances on getting there first. After all, she had heard all about Hephaestos, and she was frightened. Hecate stood up and continued walking down the street towards the designated meeting place, Medea followed close behind. She checked the map Metis had drawn for her, and with a subtly confused tone, "This is the place. Now where is everyone else?"

Medea spotted a shimmering metal object beside the street a few meters ahead of them. "Hecate. I can see something."

Hephaestos swung around as she heard footsteps, and brightened a little to see Sailor Hecate and her fox guardian approach. "Well, here's the first one," she muttered under her breath, then turned to face her, one hand on her hips.

"Where's Persephone?" she demanded, her fuku glittering in the half- dark.

"I'm coming!" The lavender-haired girl hurried forward, her boots pattering along the pavement. Pausing to catch her breath and the straighten that irritating corset, she glanced at Hephaestos ruefully, her voice practically dripping in sarcasm, "Nice to see you again."

"About as nice as catching syphilis," Hephaestos retorted. "Hope you've left your hessian at home, hippie. We'll have no time to hug trees. Hopefully both of you can spill blood tonight - whether it's your own or someone else's, I don't give a damn."

"Well, I for one can say that I'll be damned if I let another prissy-ass senshi get the best of me." spoke Hecate with determination. "What do we have to do?" Her eyes grew wide as she clinched her fists.

"But Heca - .." Medea adverted.

"But nothing, I wanna kick some ass."

The redheaded senshi nodded in grim approval. "See, I like this one," she told Tyche comfortably. "She's got sass. Too bad she's a damn Brit or Italian or something. They're everywhere now."

Hephaestos turned back to the two. "Asskicking is permitted, brats. However, first you have to have your own ass kicked. In your first battle, usually what happens is you end up pavement pizza. We haven't got the fucking time for that in your first real battle, so I'll have to do it in the place of someone else. How many 'real' battles have you been in? Battles with other pot-smoking hippies who refused to fight not counting," she added for Persephone's benefit.

Persephone growled, considering sending a well-placed kick into Hephaestos's stomach; she didn't seem too well balanced on those legs. Digging her nails into her hands, Persephone breathed deeply before answering, "I fought Bacchus. Neither of us refused to fight, you metal clad wench."

Sailor Hephaestos waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, yeah, boohoo, in the heat of the moment you broke her nail. We'll erect a fucking tomb to it. Bacchus was one of the ones who killed Hades; if you had taken her out then the poor little bitch might still be alive, so I don't want any whining from you. In a way, you're responsible."

Persephone folded her arms across her chest, her brown eyes glaring vehemently at Jace, "In a way, we're all responsible, Heph. If you'd been there instead of running your mouth constantly, maybe she'd be alive. Or, maybe you'd both be dead, we'll never know. All I know is that if you don't lay off there will be another Graikos dead tonight, and it won't be me."

She burst out laughing and began to circle around Persephone like a wolf on the prowl, hands at her chest, gesturing towards herself as she cackled like a maniac. "You? You, go for me? You're pathetic. You couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag. You wanna come at me? Want to fight? I won't kill you, I promise. I'll just make you wish you were dead, Sailor Vegetables. I'm not worried - if you couldn't take out some drunken whore, how can you take down me?"

"Okay, lets get a few things straight," Persephone wheeled on the circling girl, placing her face inches from hers, "One, Bacchus was not a drunken whore. She was certainly sober when I fought her, and I'll admit, the outfit was a bit skimpy. Two, I'll fight you anytime, anywhere. I don't care if you think you're stronger than me, or a better senshi, I'll take you out, even if you are on my team."

"Whoooa there. Since I'm new to this, I may not be all that fluent on the way things run, but I believe we aren't supposed to kill each other. At least not until we've all been introduced or something," Hecate slurred, trying to get her teammates to focus. "I've only been in one battle, and I DID eat pavement. So I'd recommend we try not to do that again."

Medea jumped in, "A peacemaker now, are we? Feh."

"No, I'm not, but I'd prefer to work with people who at least act like they care," Hecate said in a bitterly sarcastic tone that could only be compared to that of the other Graikos females. "Now, I'm sorry about Hades, I wish that I could have met her, but I want to live through this night and have someone else to talk to... And frankly that boy is starting to scare me."

"I'm cut to the quick, miss," Tyche drawled as he stepped from the shadows with a charming grin. Quickly, he executed a shallow bow and then snagged his hat from Hephaestos' head, settling it back on his own jauntily. "The name's Tyche," he added. "Also known as mild-mannered Home Depot boy, Jack."

"Forgot I had that on," Hephaestos muttered, cheeks going slightly pink.

"No worries," Tyche assured her genially. Then he turned the full force of his smile on Persephone and Hecate. "Hey, Wilma. You look lovely." He paused and offered a hand to Hecate. "And you would be?"

The brunette gave a hideously innocent chuckle. And spoke with an elegant tone, "The name's Hecate. Aka wild-mannered coed, Rhiannon." she paused, "You may call me Rhia."

"I've got better advice. Just don't call her," added Medea, who appeared to be looking out for her friend.

Hecate traipsed lithely toward the group, specifically towards Tyche. Upon doing so, she puffed a strand of loose hair upward. "Nice hat, maverick." She winked and stood position.

Persephone controlled the urge to gag, before smiling somewhat amiably towards Tyche, "Hi, Jack, how're you? Oh, and Hecate, the name is Wilma, or Sailor Vegetables, according to Sailor Dominatrix over there." Cracking her knuckles, she glared at Heph, "Are you gonna just stand there or are we gonna go find some Romanus to maim?"

Hephaestos, who had been looking increasingly pissed as time and Tyche's flirting went on, snorted. "Well, if you've both stopped attempting to get down Tyche's pants, yes. And remember - don't go after just the Romanus. The other fuckers are just as bad." The redhead surveyed both of the girls. "So, what can you two twits do, other than giggle brainlessly?"

Hecate seized the chance to redeem herself. "Well, giggling brainlessly is only a hobby. A girl's gotta have her hobbies, you know." She ran her fingers across the brim of Tyche's hat and stepped backward into her original spot across from Hephaestos. "Apparently I can take a lot of shit and loose ground. I have a spiffy keen dagger and this thing - " She raised her right arm to show the gauntlet. "It's awfully sharp and pointy. I think it's pretty durable too." Some of the peroxide she had used to clean her earrings must have soaked into her scalp with this commentary. Hecate shook her head abruptly and continued with a clear train of thought

"Why talk? Who are you going to test us on?" In her mind, Hecate was hoping to hear either Romanus or each other, for fear of the Astronomia team kicking her ass again.

Hephaestos shrugged amiably. "Each other, if you'd prefer to train. Or we can go out and find some others to beat up. They patrol, too. I know personally there's some Astronomia I've been dying to get my hands on, preferably to drop the shits off a building - and the Romanus team is apparently all wusses, so that'd be good, too. Only ever met one Angelus."

"Whatever gets the job done." Hecate shivered unnoticeably.

Tyche shrugged and Hephaestos found herself mollified by the very Jack-like gesture. "That's the spirit," he agreed. Then he grinned sunnily. "And it could always be worse. She's given you the option of sparring between yourselves. Heph here could be offering to serve you your own adorable selves on a silver platter just by her lonesome. You know. The teacher teaching the student."

"Actually, I sort of like that idea," the redhead contemplated.

"You can't be serious. Her legs alone could break my spine if I wasn't prepared," Hecate butted in.

A dark eyebrow appeared above Tyche's mask as he studied his friend, amusement written across his face. "No, Heph," he added dryly. "You play too rough. I think we want these ladies to remain in one piece."

"Well, we could always get you to mudwrestle with them," she taunted. "Although I don't think that would be training. They'd want you to win too much."

Tyche tipped his hat back further on his head and smiled something awfully damn close to a smirk. "Gee, if that's true, I guess that leaves me out of the training," he drawled. "Pity. I'll just stay here and watch."

Hephaestos shuddered momentarily. "If this is what you're like when you're Tyche, remind me never to get you drunk." She paused. "Wait. I'll just wait 'till we're alone and then get you drunk anyway. Right, Sailor Bimbettes - up for patrolling duty?"

"Feh. Don't let you hot air go to head, you might end up like us," Hecate snapped back as she flapped her cape slightly. "Let's just get this over. I don't care who I beat the shit out of." Pause. "Hey, look Heph, we have something in common!" She smiled innocently.

Ah, that just might be the little girl's version of a challenge. Hephaestos beamed at her, moving back so that the fabric 'wings' on her fuku billowed out slightly in the night air. "Want to try first, Hecate? Persephone can come at me second. Or she can go lick shrubs. Just hit me with your best shot - and remember, I'm a moving target, so make it good."

"How about a warm up?" Hecate smirked. She unhooked her cape, not wanting to ruin a good piece of silk. "Just a jab or two?" Hec grinned some more and proceeded to crouch into battle mode. She delivered a weak punch to Hephaestos. "I can't fight you. Even though you're a bitch, I just don't have any reasons. I mean, I'm a bitch, too. It works. But I think I'm the nice kind."

Medea, baffled, called out, "What the hell are you doing!? Beat the shit out of her, dammit!" She covered her mouth with her paws and buried her head.

"D, just shut the hell up. She hasn't done anything to offend me. I can't deliver a successful first punch. It's just not me." Hecate puts her hands down. "But you're welcome to. I can take it."

"You can't take it from her," Persephone glared at Hephaestos, grimacing slightly at her next comment. "As much as I hate, despise, and loathe good ol' Hephy, she packs a wallop, and I don't just mean punches, either." She stepped backwards slightly, signaling her end in the commentary.

"Read my mind," Tyche agreed gently. "There's plenty of baddies out there to work yourself over on. Fight them, not each other." He chuckled. "'Sides it wouldn't be a very good sign of your night out if I had to carry you home from a Hephy tutorial... So let's just go hunt, eh?" He pushed off his leaning tree and smiled at Hepaestos. "You lead, Heph," he announced. "You've got the experience." Suddenly, a mischievous spark flashed in his gaze and he stepped between Hecate and Persephone. Offering them his arms gallantly, all the while directing a teasing grin at Hephaestos, he added, "Need an escort, ladies?"

Hephaestos gave him a look that would have withered molten rock, gray eyes narrowed in loathing. He would be getting some pain management therapy later for this.

"I think Heph would break my legs if I touched you, Tyche," Persephone offered a charming grin in compensation before stepping up to be beside Hephaestos. Giving her an irritated look, she leaned in and whispered almost inaudibly, "It's either you or Sailor Giggles back there, so if you don't mind, I'd like to walk with you..."

Watching Persephone step away from her, and stand next to Hephaestos, Hecate looked to her side, spotting the remaining member, Tyche. "Well, I guess that leaves me for you to escort," she charmed with a grin. "Why the hell not." Hecate added, grabbing one of his still outstreched arms, oblivious to the previous comment concerning broken legs.

The redhead glared evenly at Hecate, then grunted in return, catching up behind Tyche and the brunette and walking beside Persephone. "Giggles is roundabout it," she muttered to the senshi of life, then suddenly brightened evilly, staring a laser hole into Hecate's back instead of snapping her thighbones. "So, Giggles, you go to ISAS?"

Hecate turned her head sharply, but still in perfect motion foreward, "Me?" she questioned. "Yes, I do go to ISAS." Hecate chuckled at the thought of Jace's reputation there. "Why do you ask, Heph?" She giggled again. It seemed that her new nickname did serve a purpose.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why the inane giggli - " Hephaestos stopped dead and realized that her question had been entirely turned on her. "Anything you have ever heard about me at ISAS is entirely not true and in fact the truth is the opposite!"

Hecate grumbled and was about to laugh, when catching herself. "So you aren't intelligent, moody, generous, presumptuous, charming, or insane?" she paused to take a short breath, "There's more, but I'm not a human thesaurus." Hecate gave a slight grin. "I don't judge someone by what other people say, or you'd be quite an atrocity of a person. I do suppose that I should believe some people. And there are a few loons - " she giggled before continuing, "I do have a class with a certain Theodore you might know, or is that a mistake as well?"

"Don't know him," Hephaestos grunted, blushing red to the roots of her hair, walking briskly forward with that constant clunk, clunk, clunk noise, past the burning of the streetlights, trying to keep in the shadow. "Even if I do, hate his obsessive-compulsive stockmarket guts. Talk is cheap. Life is quick. The night is young. Can we find somebody to beat up now?"

"Now that what I'm talking about!" Hecate cheered smiling. To herself she kindly reconsidered her first evil assumption of Hephaestos and thought, "Damn men." She then leaned her head on Tyche's shoulder and continued to walk.

Tyche frowned, just barely registering Hecate's head on his shoulder. Theodore, huh? he thought. Willing to bet that's the Tibby that she refuses to talk about. Ah, Jace, loosen up. Aloud, he added, "Well, you guys might just have your wish come true. I'm getting the willies and you know what that means, Heph, my girl."

Hephaestos pondered saying something downright rude, then shook her head, staring down the dark street. If nothing else, Tyche's 'willies' were useful. "Okay, crowd. Ready to rock?"

"You bet." With a gentle shrug of his shoulder, he shook Hecate from him and into her own stance. Tyche himself slid into a defensive position, walking stick held at the ready. All trace of the infectious charmer had been shed like a second skin in anticipation. "Wonder how many?" he murmured.

"Oww, dammit!" Hecate stood firmly. "I don't see anyone yet," she thought aloud. "Mannaggia! That means they're gonna come after me first, doesn't it!? I've seen these movies. It's always the non-believer who-"

"Would you shut your trap momentarily, or is that physically possible?" Persephone gave Hecate a light shove that no one could mistake as friendly. Slipping into a defensive position, she frowned, "They'll be in a group... about our size probably. I bet they'll have figured out we're out for blood now that Hades is dead..."

Lissie stepped outside the back door to the classy, upscale bar, looking at the moon to gauge the time. Past midnight, at least, and she and her friends really should be on patrol duty...

The night had started out regular enough, she and Gwyn went barhopping for the few short hours of freedom the nightlife gave before Julius began breathing down their necks to get their asses in gear and begin the boring, unfulfilling, and - yes, tragically - sober process of patrol duty. They'd slipped by the evil pigs clutches this night, hitting a whole new string of pubs and taverns than their regular watering holes, hoping to loose the pig somewhere between the dim, smelly cowboy bars with cigarette smoke clouding the ceiling and weepy western ballads howling over the jukebox, and the ritzy martini lounges where guys in off-the-rack Armani tried their worst pick-up lines on uninterested females. Guilt wasn't a feeling Lissie was familiar with, usually taking on a devil-may-care attitude that usually ended up with her passionate acting skills and bold-faced lies saving her from arrest. But she was guilty. Too much time with Bacon Boy had rubbed off, and she was slowly gaining something that took the thrill out of carousing in nighttime hotspots: a conscience.

Ignoring a fellow bar patron who had slipped past her in the doorway to relieve himself in the alley, Lissie frowned as she slowly trudged back to the table where the other Romanus party girls sat entertaining a group of Italian admirers who never hesitated to pick up the tab, no matter how high - and these white-collar bars had extremely high prices - the check grew to be. Sliding in next to Gwyn who was magically wheedling some guy who spoke very little English into letting her test drive his Porsche, she frowned into her half-full margarita and began mumbling about a very gross and unwanted topic - duty.

"Hold on a sec." Gwyn said to the antsy Italian. She finished her Long Island Iced Tea, and looked at the others across the table, and then Lissie. "Are you oinking in the midst of all this fun, kid?"

"Ah, Lissie," Rayya pouted. "When did Julius get to you? Was it that night you kidnapped him? Why does he do this?" Dramatically, she sighed deeply, the excessive inhalation raising and lowering her chest to the wide-eyed admiration of their admirers. Then she leaned forward to rest her chin on an upraised hand. "Really going to?" she asked softly.

Lissie frowned, batting off one of the more insistent Italians with the back of her hand. The ice in her Sex on the Beach was melted, and she'd eaten the cherry long ago. Twirling the straw in the hurricane glass, she meditated on that damn slab of bacon who reminded her way too much of the evil nuns at Catholic School who could guilt trip a beggar out of his last coin. The pig's mercenary tactics had to go, and she figured a trip to see her mom's New Age therapist who spewed rhetoric on the evils of ruining someone's aura would get Julius properly hypnotized. For the time being, the Italians would just have to wait.

"Guys, we really gotta go. Not for Spam-Boy, but at least for Livvy. Wade swore he'd never let her go out with us again unless we take duties seriously. He had a cow when we brought her home, singing a round of 'It's Not Easy Being Green,' 'Old Man River,' and 'Walk Like an Egyptian' like we did after the Taco Bell mixer. At least the pig was passed out and stuffed in the trunk for that one. But what would it hurt? We go to the ladies' room, saying we all gotta go together because girls use the buddy system, transform, head to the top of the building for a quick scan of the city, then return back to normal for another round."

Rayya shook her head. "I don't know, guys." Distractedly, she tugged on a piece of her hair, wrapping it around a thin finger. "I can really only stay out a bit longer." She stifled a grin. "I promised to stop by Wade's place on my way back to the dorms and play Florence Nightingale. He's got a touch of the flu, I think." Noticing the growing leer on Gwyn's face, she shook her head, giggling. "Keep your mind out of the gutter, girl." Then she sobered. "Will the three of you be alright together on your own tonight?"

Gwyn slowly wiped the grin off her face, as she stood up from the table. She looked across the bar to find Pri at the jukebox talking to some extremely cute, yet obviously bad news guy. "Yeah, we'll be fine." She replied, unable to stop the grin from returning. She wasn't gonna let the subject change so easily. "We know you'll send Wadey our love." Looking over at Lissie, Gwyn snickered evilly, "Just let the boy get a little rest tonight, I beg of you!"

Priscilla smirked, turning away from the cutie and nodding to Rayya, "Yeah, he needs his strength for swimming, remember that. Send Livia Aeneas's love for me, or I'll be maimed when I go home." Looking to Lissia and Gwyn, her playful demeanor vanished without a trace, to be replaced by a more serious attitude, "Well, I suppose we should go do our patriotic duty and kick some Gr-- er, arse."

Lissie winked at a blushing Rayya, giggling at her discomfiture. "Oh, and ya know that whole Taco Bell shpiel about protecting each other? Well, while we're gone... don't forget to use protection!"

Leading the way to the ladies room, Lissie found the line to be as long as ladies restroom lines always tend to be. Seeing the empty line for the men's room, she shrugged her shoulders, motioning Gwyn and Pri on. No one was currently in there, and she knew that anyone entering during the transformation sequence would definitely be in desperate need of another drink. Bars can be quite convenient at times.

Literally cackling at Lissie's comment, Priscilla waved her farewell to Rayya before quieting down and slinking into the men's room, "I feel like this is Mission Impossible... infiltrate the domain of men." Glancing around, she wrinkled her nose at the lovely decor, "Puke green... bleck, these folks need an interior decorator, badly. Anyway, who wants to go first?"

"Me!" Gwyn answered desperately, turning puke green herself from the strong stench of BO, urinal cakes, and God knows what else in the room. She snatched the golden chain from around her neck and gasped. "Fortuna Deus Power, Make Up!'

There was a flash of light, that faded just as quickly as it had erupted. Fortuna appeared with a shimmer in a less than heroic pose, as she used one of the strands of her cape to cover her nose and mouth. "Hurry up!" Her muffled voice ordered the others.

"Right-o!" Covering the ring on her right hand, Priscilla managed to choke out, "Clio Soros Power, Make Up!" After a burst of light and a few sparkles, she emerged with her spiffing new attire. Grinning at Lissie, she winked and struck a pose, "Your turn, m'dear."

Lissie glanced between her transformed friends and the ink-covered pea green bathroom stalls. Her gaze was like that of a dog who knew she wasn't supposed to something, but was battling her conscience to do it anyway. As always, her conscience didn't stand a chance.

"Just a sec." She pulled out a sharpie pen, and, giving in to the temptation of leaving her mark on the men's bathroom just as so many before her have done, she began scribbling in a blank area in between "Wanna Good Time? Call Candi" and "Bob + Ginnie 4-Ever":

LISSIE WUZ HERE & SHE SAYS YOU GUYZ ARE DISGUSTING, GERM-RIDDEN PIGS. NO WONDER HER MOM BECAME A LEZBIAN. ANYWAY, LEARN THE POWER OF SOAP AND CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES OR FEEL THE WRATH OF THE FUTURE WORLD DICTATOR AND HER DANCING CAMELS!!!

Her handwriting was unique at best, and as always, her spelling was atrocious, but the message was conveyed. Lissie hoped she had put the fear of God into the heads of the puny males who used the rest room, but figured the chances of that happening were slim to nil. She shrugged her shoulders at her friends, then proceeded with her own transformation, complete with the shiny mirror ball whose physical origins could be a question used to entertain stoners for weeks. "Thalia Romanus Power, MAKE UP!!" was screeched in the ear-splitting falsetto she used to annoy people. The mirror ball came, along with the happy yellow light, and Lissie was quickly transformed into Sailor Thalia, just in time for an inebriated bar patron to wander in and shout amazed curses at the sight that greeted him.

"Bud, we're only a figment of your imagination. That and a half bottle of tequila." She said curtly before turning to her teammates. "So, let's get the hell out of Dodge and give the poor guy some privacy, eh?"

Fortuna leaned past Thalia, and watched as the surly drunk jetted into the door with a heavy thunk, and skittered outside. "Poor guy, he looked like he really had to go too." Straightening herself and shrugging, she turned and walked over to the windows. With a slight grunt of effort she threw one open and basked in the rush of fresh air. "Let's go!" She whooped, hopping out of the window, and up into the night.

The cold night's wind whipped past Persephone, causing her to shiver lightly. Damn, she thought, this is just my luck. Hecate is hanging all over Tyche, and Heph is the only one I can rely on. Brown gaze rested on the senshi of the forge momentarily, as a slight smile touched Persephone's lips. However, it is nice to have her act half civilly towards me.

A movement up ahead caused Persephone to stop short, the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention as that familiar shock of hatred swept over her. Letting out a barely audible gasp, she whispered, "Romanus."

"Romanus?" asked Hecate, hearing her teammate's tense murmur. Finally, a confrontation, she thought. May mercy fall upon our hearts as we slay theirs, Hecate continued. "Who..." She sensed the stiff air surrounding the Graikos. Hecate was a newborn compared to the others, incognizant to the deeper intent of this patrol. She had walked into a battle that she could not fight with the passion of her comrades. Sliding her arms away from Tyche, who was poised limply to her side, Hecate lowered her head in shame. Persephone began shaking the air beside her.

"Yeah, Romanus," Tyche murmured in response. Nimbly, he spun his walking stick through his fingers. "So be sharp."

Growling softly to herself, she shook out the paralyzing fear that had begun to take over her mind. She would show Hephaestos that she was worthy of her friendship. Stepping towards the vague silhouettes of the other senshi, she gripped her fist together, anger for her unknown fallen comrade seething through her.

"You unlucky souls have caused the death of a Graikos! This shall not be forgiven. On behalf of Hades and my patron goddess, Persephone, I will avenge her death!"

Suppressing a snicker, Tyche cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at his teammate. "Never knew you to be an orator, darling." Then he added, louder and in his most charming drawl, "You heard the lady. It's a nice night and we don't want to waste it all here waiting for you all."

Clio smirked at her fellow Romanus, arching an eyebrow in mock innocence, "Sounds like they want a fight. Shall we give it to them?"

Fortuna glanced sideways at Thalia, who seemed to be smirking purely from the amount of evil plans in her head, and nodded. "Let's try to make this quick... we definitely have better things to do. And ya know how these guys talk big, then drop like flies."

"Sounds like a plan," Thalia answered, giving the Graikos girls a quick once over, leaving her clearly unimpressed. "I don't dig the flies thing, though. They're not cool enough to emulate Jeff Goldblum's insect fetish. Just kicking plain ol' ass will be just fine." She gave the opponents condescending glance, then winked at Clio. "Your turn to trash talk, babe. Make it easy. I don't like all this revenge stuff, though... reminds me of the cheesy motive a slasher flick killer would do. And these guys aren't exactly Hannibal Lecter."

Walking a few paces towards the challenging team, Clio placed her hands on her hips, giving the lavender haired one a patronizing smile, "You swear you'll avenge her death, do you? Wake up, sweets. We're the winning team, and if you're not careful, history will repeat itself. I'm Sailor Clio, the Romanus senshi of History, and these are my friends..."

"Thalia. Sailor Thalia. Comedy senshi of the Romanus." Thalia made a very Sean Connery-like Bond impression, however knowing that humor would be lost on such a dismal audience. "Oh, and this is my buddy Fortuna, Sailor senshi of Luck, who doesn't give a damn if her martini is shaken or stirred, just as long as it has liquor in it. She's hell to deal with when sober, worse when drunk, and completely plastered now, so sorry, Charlie, but the odds don't look too hot."

Red-haired Hephaestos, who had been getting very tired of the challenge-type hooting, rolled her eyes and professionally bent one knee, limbering up - well, if you can call making sure your fake metal knee isn't rusty limbering - and clenching her fists.

"Right. Romanus. All of you looking like circus prostitutes and about as skillful. Let's get over the little shit and right to the point - who wants to die first?"

The look on her face unsubtly translated that she didn't exactly mind which, so long as one of them was up to the job.

Fortuna whispered something to Thalia that the others couldn't hear, making a face at the cocky red-head. Then she turned to Clio.

Thalia chuckled at Fortuna, mumbling something incoherent about being circus prostitutes much more fun than looking like your ancestors were once tin cans.

"If you need any help kid, just yell. Don't let fear enter your head, we're right here in case things get too hairy for ya."

Clio nodded, glancing over the other senshi, "I got Tin-Can girl. Piece of cake." Stepping forward, she pointed at the senshi of the forge, glaring at her like a bug she'd prefer squashed, "You and me, one on one."

"Like a porn movie, only you're ugly. You got it, baby."

Fortuna gave the younger girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder, glanced at Thalia and leapt into the air. Soaring over the tin can posing as a senshi, she whipped out her fighting staff and landed before the three other enemies. Spinning her weapon menacingly, she scanned her eyes over them.

"Anyone who wants to interrupt their fight will have to go through me. And just in case you do get by me, which you won't so you don't really have to worry about this next part, Thalia over there will blast you into another zip code."

Another zip code?" Thalia asked, glancing at her companions. "I'd hate to waste taxpayer's money creating a zipcode in some shithole where they can die in peace." Making a sweep for Fortuna to proceed with the generic ass-kicking, Thalia sat back and began a running sports commentary on the whole pathetic scene while buffing her nails in nonchalance.

She watched as their eyes sized her up, probably deciding that the three of them could take her down easy. Picking the guy in front of her, she jabbed forward, stopping her weapon about an inch from his Adam's apple.

"You better make sure your friends understand," she warned, slowly forcing the stick below his chin.

Glancing down at the stick, Tyche smiled slowly. "Very nice, darlin'," he drawled. Suddenly, his own walking stick came up in a smooth arc and knocked hers aside. Then he stepped back and cut a shallow bow. "But I think your friend looks lonely over there and my own two ladies need practice so..." With another charming smile and a devilish wink, he sidestepped the blinking Fortuna and confronted Thalia. "Hello, darlin'."

For the first time in her life, Thalia was left speechless. She abandoned her meticulous nails, looking up at someone who surely had just walked out of a Mississippi showboat. Being struck dumb was weird to Thalia... almost as weird as being smitten was. Not that she was smitten or anything. Well, not yet.

She gazed at the Clark Gable poser, and suddenly felt the need to break into some cheesy love duet from an even cheesier musical comedy. This was even weirder than being struck dumb or smitten. Breaking into song had reached the pinnacle of weirdness. The background faded away, and perhaps somewhere in her subconscious she could hear the continuing bickering and trash talk between Fortuna and the red-headed bitch, but not now, not on the verge of a song and dance number.

Lissie's stepmom, Beatrice, always used to watch the Natalie Wood version of West Side Story and cry her eyes out. She'd watch and rewind the scene where Tony meets Maria, and Lissie had been forced to view the part so many times that she could recite the dialogue verbatim. This was weirder, though. This was happening when she was dressed, as the red-headed bitch had put it, like a circus prostitute.

Thalia/Lissie realized she had to say something, preferably witty and clever so she could strike up a conversation with this fine Graikos river gambler. Her mind completely focused on flirtatious repartee, Thalia overworked her mind trying to make the introductory smalltalk. What she ended up saying was next to idiotic.

"Holy fuck! You're fucking Rhett Butler, aren't you!"

Tyche responded as only a true gentleman could. He smiled wider, brighter, and more devilishly before replying in his most drool-worthy drawl, "Holy fuck, I do believe that's a no." He twirled his walking stick between his fingers and then brought it under his arm casually. "And frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn for him."

Clio shook her head, eyeing Tyche with an irritated look before turning back to Hephaestos, "Was your secret weapon to use the southern boy to befuddle us?"

"No, it wasn't, actually," Hephaestos replied, looking just as irritated. "He's just the Graikos local man-whore, don't mind him."

Clio shrugged, popping her knuckles, "Well, I suppose we should begin our little spat..." Raising her right hand above her head, she glared at Hephaestos, and tossed her right hand into the air. Smirking, she shouted "Historical Film Spiel!" and began those cumbersome movements that seemed to go along with every senshi's contract.

Finally ending that last pirouette, a blue beam of light burst out of her hands, heading directly for Hephaestos's mid-section.

The redhead smirked, one hand lolling on her hip as she stared down at her stomach. "I'm waiting for something interesting to happen."

She paused a beat and then her eyes began to glaze over, looking somewhere far away where the others couldn't see. Hephaestos stumbled backwards, past the guard of very-smitten Thalia, back to the stunned spectators of Persephone and Hecate as she leant against the wall. One hand slipped from her side to rub against her forehead, more than mildly disoriented.

"What in fucking hell's name did you do?" she gasped out before looking a mixture of slightly revolted and admiring. "Hey, that guy's head just exploded!"

Tyche whipped his head towards his teammate just enough to catch her confusion out of the corner of his eye, not allowing the rest of his attention to waiver from the motionless girl in front of him. "Heph!" he barked somewhat sharply. "You okay, gal?" Not pausing to get a real answer, he added, "Hecate, Persephone! Watch her back!"

Hecate's left eye began to twitch, not fully understanding the things going on around her. "Guard HER?" she exclaimed, then looked over to Persephone. "Who's HE trying to kid?" Hecate took in a deep breath and stood her ground as prompted. She knew that there was no way out of this fight now. Heck squinted her eyes daringly at each of the persons readily engaged in battle; she crossed her fingers unnoticeably while grasping onto her cape lying on the ground beside her. Her guardian Medea stayed tucked away in the background, awaiting any sort of bellicose movement from Hecate.

"I can do it," Hephaestos protested, then slunk back down against the wall again. "... once the bullets stop firing..."

Persephone frowned, staring at Clio with something one could call hate. Of course, Hephy wasn't her most favourite person in the world, but she was a Graikos.

Clio placed a hand on her hip, drawing her powers together, getting ready for the return attack, "Hmm, bizarre. I never quite knew what would happen with that attack. Aeneas will be happy. Hey, Thalia," Clio nodded to her smitten friend, "You might want to pay more attention to the chicks in mini-skirts instead of Mr. Butler, or else we'll be picking bits and pieces of you off of the pavement..."

"Good advice.. coming from an asinine cow," Hecate's rebuttal may have been less profane than her others, but hey, it demonstrated her point rather well. This was obviously an open challenge to both Clio and Thalia. "Hey, beau dandy, step back. They might actually try something," jested the sarcastically overconfident Hecate who was apparently regaining her cocky repartee.

Tyche quickly stepped in what would have been Thalia's path towards his teammates, shaking his head. "I don't think so, darlin'," he murmured. "They don't need you to be putting your own two cents in."

To Thalia, keeping quiet for the moment, however rare a moment like this was for her, seemed like the best idea for now. After all, he had called her 'Darling!' HE had called HER 'DARLING!' Her life now seemed to have meaning. She was sitting here with... The Un-Rhett, who, for all she cared, was the center of rotational gravity in the solar system. For this brief, fleeting moment, she could empathize with the hordes of pathetic pre-teen girls who flooded Times Square below the MTV studios, just to catch a glimpse of N'SYNC, and later counting it as one of the biggest milestones of her young life. It was sad. Very, very sad.

But, of course, as disgustingly smitten as she was, frankly, she didn't give a damn.

"Oh, well, whatevah you say... Puddin'," she answered, not quite conscious of the sugary cuteness of the endearment. "But, you see," she continued, in the down-south drawl used when talking to Livia, "Ah gotta go help a friend here, but you just sit right down, now, and stay right where you are, and ah'll be back in a jiffy... Puddin'."

She quickly elbowed her way around Tyche, winking and sighing the entire time, then stood in front of the grinning-like-an-idiot Hecate, still all sugary southern sweetness, but with that bitchy Vivien Leigh edge that convinced you that Scarlett refused to be a victim.

"Yah know, Sugar," she replied, as mockingly as the other girl, "Ah don't appreciate it when my friends get called asinine cows, but since ah got a handsome gent waitin' over theah fo' me, ah gotta make this short n' sweet." In her usual self-mocking manner, she began to... do the Macarena.

She put her hands across her chest, then shouted, still in the Scarlett O'Hara voice, "Thalia Contagious Laughter!", sending energy over towards Hecate and the fox. She brushed her hands as the attack began to take effect, quickly turned back to her normal sarcastic self for a split second. She glared at Hephaestos, and quickly drew the redhead's attention away from Fortuna. "By the way, your village called. Their idiot's missing. Better call back before they slap your face on a milk carton."

"By God, the pink donut speaks," Hephaestos spat back, pulling herself back up against the wall and swaying slightly as she fought still against Clio's attack. "Now if she would just stop doing her Pink Donut Texas Whore Attack on Tyche, things would be just dandy..."

Switching in a split second from her witty, dominating personality and back into the southern belle (all the while ignoring Heph's responses completely), Thalia glanced at Tyche again, attached herself to his arm, and gave him a signature Scarlett smile. "Well, now that we got that stuff out of the way, tell me ahbout yo'self, Puddin'."

Persephone shook her head. Insulting the enemy wasn't the best way of starting off a fight. Sighing, she lifted a rather lazy hand towards Fortuna. All of her earlier fervor seemed to have left her once Hephaestos had been attacked. "I'd say it's time we tangoed, Sailor Fortuna. Hephaestos won't be able to fight you for a little bit."

Fortuna turned her eyes a little from the mess in front of her. Without a reply she withdrew her weapon, and stood ready to fight. A slight smile on the corner of her mouth, and a devilish gleam in her eye. She was tired of the talk.

"Bring it on, little girl." She taunted, awaiting the smaller girl's attack.

Persephone winced a bit, tossing her right fist into the air. "Persephone Life Drain!"

Opening up her fist and tossing her left arm out to the side, she smirked at Fortuna as vines whipped out of the ground and sent themselves at her mid-section.

Grimacing as the flora-enforced foe wrapped itself around her ribcage, Fortuna glared back at the Graikos, refusing in drunken stubbornness to show much pain. She glanced at the ground, searching for where her weapon had gone to after she dropped it in initial shock. She felt her heel brush against it and smiled at her opponent.

"Nice trick, kid. But how long... can you keep it up?!"

She snarled, emphasizing the last part, as she stomped on her staff. The ancient oak rod spun menacingly at Persephone's head. For a second the vines grew tighter making Fortuna's back pitch painfully, but she watched, and waited for Persephone to become distracted.

"What the - " Persephone fell to the ground in her attempt to miss the oak rod, the breath knocked out of her. As it landed somewhere behind her, the vines around Fortuna's mid-section loosened momentarily, while Persephone was trying to catch her breath once more.

"Persephone!" Hecate shouted, still pressing against her side from the blast Thalia gave her a few moments ago.

"Yes!" The Romanus exclaimed, raising her arms and breaking through the loosened vines. Her malevolent giggling slipped through the chill night air as she strode towards her fallen enemy.

"Hey," Fortuna asked Hecate as she walked, " You worried about her? 'Fraid I'm gonna do something mean?"

Stopping a few feet from Persephone, she grinned at Hecate.

"Something like this?" she asked, and promptly kicked Persephone in the ribs, sending the girl back a few yards. Followed by Fortuna's grating laughter.

"Argh..." Grasping her ribs, she attempted to get up, without much luck. Glaring over at Hecate, she shook her head, "Leave me alone, take care of Hephaestos." Turning her gaze to Fortuna, she stood up slowly, still gripping her ribs. "You're going to wish you hadn't done that."

Hecate nodded respectfully to her pissed-off teammate, and stepped back a few feet to check on Heph.

"Ha, that's cute. Not for nothing, you're full of shit kid, but you do it in a cute way." Fortuna answered, plucking her weapon off the ground as she approached her. With a smug flick of her wrist, the Sors in a slight flash vanished. Plastering on a patronizing smile, the Senshi of Fate lifted her hands in that "look I'm unarmed" position, and wiggled her fingertips mockingly.

"Don't worry, I'll take it easy on you honey," she said, dropping her hands for a second. She laughed to herself a little as she glanced Hephaestos. Poor ugly fools. If all of Fortuna's battles turned out to be this easy, this whole messed up war would be done sooner than even she had thought. Good shit. Happily shouting, the blonde sprang forth at the other girl, knuckles blazing.

"I'll only use my FISTS!"

Persephone jumped to the side allowing the other girl to land safely where she was once standing. Glaring at her in irritation, she brushed a few strands of hair from her eyes. "This is insane! We're not boxers, we're senshi! Use your powers, you idiot!"

Bringing her wrists together, she snarled out "Persephone..." Opening up her hands, a bright ball of green light shone vehemently, "Living..." Winding up, she threw the ball at Fortuna, "Torch!" Wiping the sweat off of her brow, "That's what we're supposed to do!"

"Aaargh, you little brat!" Fortuna growled before slamming into a mailbox, breaking it free of the cement and toppling to the ground.

Wincing painfully, she rolled off of it. Unfortunately, her right arm had become lodged in the mail slot. Drunk, burned, beaten, and bruised, she heard Persephone beckoning for her to use her power attack. The alcohol in her blood drilled through her pounding cerebrum. She couldn't do it. She couldn't attack that girl. She didn't know if she'd ever use that attack after what happened the first time.

Grimacing, she tried in vain to dislodge her arm. Which, now that she thought about it, she really couldn't feel.

"Enough is enough," Tyche hissed between his teeth. This was getting completely ridiculous. Suddenly, he grabbed the one they called Thalia and pulled her roughly towards him. "Hey, darlin'," he murmured. "Wanna dance?" With a rapid-fire movement then, he sent the pink-haired senshi spinning towards the smirking Clio, effectively knocking them both off-balance. He strode forward and hauled Hephaestos fully upright. "Ready, partner?" he asked lightly. "Hecate? Persephone?"

The red-headed senshi of the Forge finally rubbed her eyes as the last control of Clio's attack was thrown off, and looked around wildly, stumbling a little before drawing herself upright. She blinked owlishly at the scene of Fortuna struggling to break free from the hold of the mailbox and Persephone panting in pain.

"Fucking bitches!" she snarled. "Nobody messes up the Graikos - except me! Tyche! Hecate! Make sure the other two don't get up any damn time soon!"

With that, she strode forward to flailing Sailor Fortuna, smirked at her predicament mildly, and drew her hand into a fist before it started glowing. "Bet you'll be nicer to the postal service in future, huh? Hephaestos Red-Hot Burst!"

Drawing her hand back, Hephaestos sent a barrage of glowing red metal fragments at the blonde with calculated aim.

Fortuna growled through gritted teeth, and bracing her trapped arm at the elbow, planted her feet and launched herself into the air as the attack was released. She flipped backwards and upon landing pushed her encased hand against the inside of the mailbox, using it as a shield. The searing barrage ripped into it, melting the cheap green metal quickly. With a scream of utter pain and desperation, she kicked the mailbox off her hand, not caring if it took her arm with it. Luckily, just as the mouth of the box started to grow red and soft around her arm, she was freed.

It landed with an angry crunch between the two senshi, standing face to face in the hellish glow of the wreckage, flaming remains of letters flittering above the flames. Tears of rage streamed down Fortuna's face as she still gripped her right arm. A blood-red wound had burned a ring around her forearm. Trickles of sticky red liquid streamed down her fingertips from a metal impaled source in her palm. Mustering any breath she could, she rasped at Hephaestos.

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

Hephaestos smirked and half-crouched in a fighting position, beckoning her with two fingers, her fuku shining in the firelight. "Come get some."

Launching without a second's hesitation, the enraged Fortuna released her wounded arm, letting it fall limply behind her. Her left hand shot over her shoulder and from behind her whipped out the Sors, swinging it down blindly and madly again and again. The other senshi watched in amazement as the two furiously engaged in combat.

Hecate watched the fight, and no longer saw the need for her to idly stand around. "Clio!" she shouted. "You. Here. NOW!" Hecate motioned her fingers in a challenging gesture.

"With pleasure." Smirking, she stalked over to Hecate, giving the newer senshi an irritating patronizing look. Spreading her arms out, she left her chest unarmed, "C'mon, give me your best shot."

"M'kay," Hecate rebuted. She remembered the effectiveness of her athame attack on Horologium in her last battle, but didn't want to risk the power loss; so, she decided upon a simple test of Clio's agility.

"Cruentos!" Hecate shouted, placing her gauntlet in front of her in a shielding position. "Ictos!" She charged toward the senshi of history with vigor. At an almost instantaneous rate, she arrived, inches from Clio without stopping. Hec then raised her armor and angrily jabbed the girl in the stomach twice repeatedly, followed by a slice of her gauntlet through Clio's bodice.

"Shit!" Doubling over in pain, she gripped her stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Falling backwards, away from the final blow, she flipped over onto her feet, glaring at Hecate. Removing her hands, she stared down at her own blood before returning a hateful look to Hecate.

"That's it."

Placing her left hand upon her hip, she smirked at Hecate, although it looked more like a pained grimace. "Sometimes History Repeats Itself." Crossing her arms, right over left, she began to mimic Hecate's movements for Cruentos Ictos rather jerkily. Growling and running at her, she jutted out her arm, stabbing at her stomach twice before making another stab towards her chest.

"DAMN... it..." Heck moaned, having been stabbed by the gauntlet before. "You bitch! This makes us BOTH pathetic!" She held her chest steadily. "How about a little thing I call 'permanent night,' hmm?" Hecate gathered her energy slowly, while waiting for a witty retort from Clio.

Clio doubled over once again, gripping her sides. "How about you go jump in a lake?"

"Gladly, but I have to go summon an abyss first." Hecate held her palms outward. Silver clouds formed above them and cast a bright glow upon Clio's flesh. "TWILIGHT.." Hecate's body exploded into white flames as a black ethereal beam shot down before her from the bright clouds. A dagger, her athame, formed in it. She leapt into the air and grabbed it, landing gracefully. She held her stomach steadfast. She fell, kneeling, to the ground and pointed the dagger at Clio.

She winced at the pain in her stomach. The gems on her gauntlet chimed and glowed in sequence. "Twilight.." the last gem shone and a silver flame cast from her gauntlet onto the dagger, releasing the dark energy against Clio as Hec shouted "...ECLIPSE!" The clouds swirled around them as they disentegrated with the blow to Clio.

"Rrrgh..." Stumbling back a few steps, Clio lost her balance and landed rather ungracefully upon her rear. Standing up shakily, she looked around dumbly; "Where did you go, you little coward? You knock me over and then just run off? Come to think of it, it is a little dark." Furrowing her brow, she waved a hand in front of her face. Her unseeing eyes widened in horror as she suddenly realized...

"I'm blind! That little bitch blinded me!"

"Oh, no, you don't." Nimbly, Tyche stepped forward and snagged Thalia by the arm before she could react to Clio's predicament. "Fair's fair and they're all one on one." A devastating grin flashed at the trapped girl. "So shall we?"

"YOU BASTARD! It's people like YOU who made my mom become a lesbian! BASTARD!"

Needless to say, Thalia was angry. Very, VERY angry. At that moment she praised whatever benevolent spirits made her take a self-defense class a few months ago. Fortuna wasn't the only one who dabbled in simple, dirty, bar fight tactics.

"You, know, I actually LIKED you for a while there!" she shouted, viciously contorting her body so the arm clasping her was twisted unnaturally. "You had the charm, the looks, the ACCENT!" She turned the tables in a manual, tactical way by flicking his hat off and into the gutter, then kneeing him in the groin before he could even think. "You even had the FUCKING ACCENT!!" Elbow to the solar plexus. "Yeah, buddy, it's now one on one, so I'm gonna just have to kick your ass three times as hard since I can't get to your buddies over there."

She began spinning, just as he had made her do only a few moments before. Shouting out "THALIA BLACK COMEDY!" at the top of her very high, very shrill voice, she continued spinning while a magenta glow started permeating the air around her. She had lots of internal dialogue going through her brain while she twirled, mostly along the lines of "I like him... I like him not. I like him... I like him not. I like him..." such mental debates just proved her general capacity for confused irreverence, but eventually she remembered that both Fortuna and Clio were down for the count. So, she decided to grab the opportunity by the balls.

Bent in half, Tyche let loose a string of curses virulent enough to make even Hephaestos blush in embarrassment. What kind of vicious girl did he get stuck with? he wondered blearily. Cute enough but she should know better than to hit a guy there. Wasn't that in the rule book somewhere? Gasping, he managed to straighten up enough to watch in bewilderment as she spun madly, the mist beginning to drift in his direction. It didn't take a genius to know that -that- wasn't a good thing. Quickly, he sputtered, "Chances are... You're gonna trip over that tree root." He winced. "Land on your ass and..." He never quite finished. Even as his attack hit her, the mist reached him and he sank down to his knees, chuckling. "Oh. Oh, damn. Oh, shit. What the hell's so funny?" he asked breathlessly.

"You broke my heart, you bastard!" Thalia pouted before she ran over to check on Fortuna, figuring she'd be buying a whole lotta Butterscotch Schnapps to get her friend over this battle. She hurried over Tyche, wondering if the thing he found so funny was the indomitable gag of kicking a guy there, but figured she'd leave him guessing.

On her way towards the fallen Fortuna, she tripped on a tree root, fell on her ass, and then looked over at her agonized beau, shouting, "That was it? Thank got I got over you before I realized that that dinky little thing was your so-called battle axe!" She always loved mocking egotistical Romeos with comments about their 'prowess'. Trouble was, she feared she'd need to sit in those donut things for a while until her tush got over the bruising.

Sucking in air, trying to calm his hilarity, Tyche shot a decidedly cutting look at Thalia. "Look, sugar, I didn't break anything," he stuttered through the remnants of his chuckles. "You decided that my pants were room for rent." Painfully, he raised himself up from his knees, gripping his walking stick. "And excuse me for trying not to kill you right away." Muttering, he added, "Damn soft spot for cute girls."

"I swear, I'm dragging that guy's ass on Jerry Springer," Thalia muttered, maturely choosing to stick her tongue out at Tyche, then continued over to rescue a still-blind Clio from the evil manacles of a nearby tree.

"This way, sweetheart," she said, grabbing her fellow muse's shoulders and winding her forwards towards a fallen Fortuna.

"Thalia?" Deciding it was her ally, and not some evil Graikos, leading her blindly to her doom, she followed willingly. "We've gotta get Fortuna and get out of here."

Gulping air, Tyche flowed into a standing position and shot a sharp look after the retreating girl. "Just cut and run, then, darling," he called after her. "You know what they say about if the kitchen's too hot." His ringing declaration was somewhat marred by the faint, cute giggle that escaped at the end. Turning sharply, he barked, "Hecate, Persephone, pry Heph off that wreck of a Romanus and let's hightail it out of here." Then he paused, even while walking towards them, and seemed to consider his words. Wincing at how harsh they had rung, he added softly, "We'll wind down at my place. Pizza's my treat."

Persephone grunted her reply. She was in a little too much pain to worry about pleasantries, so Tyche's gruffness affected her not. Wincing, she made her way to the ensuing cat fight. After careful deliberation on how to grab Heph, a ray of light shone on her. One of Heph's arms was cast backwards for what would've been an extremely painful punch, and Persephone grabbed a hold of her wrist, pulling her backwards, "Heph, there's not much left of her. Save some for next time."

The redhead looked up at her blearily, pulled back from her position straddling a very prone Fortuna. She looked cheerful, if mildly concussed, and she had the beginnings of a fabulous black eye. "What? Oh - yeah," Hephaestos said distractedly. "Think the bitch is done." She wiggled her hand free and gave the blonde a parting blow to the stomach before getting up heavily. She was bleeding in random areas. "That was mildly amusing."

"Whatever." Persephone turned back towards Tyche, "We're through here. Now, about that pizza..."

Hecate stepped away from the wall. "Pizza?"

Tyche grinned, his trademark smile brightening the night. "Right, then." Turning, he shot the devilish grin at the Romanus, adding a short bow. "Until later, ladies." Then, slowly and deliberately, he winked at Thalia before rejoining his teammates.

"Hey, asshole in the ruffles - the Empire will strike back, so go to an optometrist to get that eye twitch fixed. Oh, and by the way, you're whole team looks like hell, while all I got was a bruise on the bum. Savor that bruise, dumbass, because it's the only piece of me you'll get for a long time. See ya 'round, partner!" Thalia's rant completed, she walked over to the prone Fortuna, and began to try and bring her to her feet. "Come on, sweetie. We'll go back to the bar, get you some good, hearty Irish Cream, and have one of those sexy Italians Rayya should still be entertaining kiss your boo-boos and make 'em all better. Clio, grab the other arm and we'll get her out of here."

Clio groaned, wiping a hand over her eyes, "Uhm, darling, I can't see. But, I'll try." And with that, she groped her way over and gripped Fortuna's other arm.

She then glanced back at the red-headed Hephaestos and Rhett-the-Asshole, gave them the bird, then began dragging her bedraggled team to the safety of a place with all the right panacea for everything. Good old alcohol and hot guys.

With Italian, NOT Southern accents.

Persephone shook her head as the other team departed, "I wonder if she realized that one of her teammates was blind, and the other had to be helped up." Sighing, she turned to the others, "Lets go. It's off to Tyche's place for pizza and bandages."

Gently, Tyche pulled one of Hephaestos' arms over his shoulders and tugged her upright. "Right, I'm not far," he murmured. "But we'll take a back way just in case." As he led them off into the shadows, perhaps only the red-head pressed against his side heard him add in a bitter undertone, "Mule-headed, little chit. I could have done a lot worse to her."

As keys jangled in the lock of Jack's apartment, Wilma pushed the door open, stepping out of the way as Jack led Jace in. Stretching and yawning, she scratched her head, peering at Jace worriedly, "Man, Jace..."

"No, I was a woman the last time I checked." Jace irritably rubbed her mouth against her hand, having detransformed back to cutoff jeans and a tank top. Her hand was immediately decorated with a smear of bright blood. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just figure that if my bruises have bruises, then your bruises that have bruises must have bruises." Not noticing the confused looks she was getting, she shrugged. "Or something along those lines."

"Hah. I'm fine. Better than the time I got shoved off a friggin' building by Mouseman. I can handle cheap Brooklyn whores any day of the week." Jace's grey eyes were slightly unfocused, and she wheeled herself forward to gratefully lean her head against Jack's wall. "Bet you three had it worse'n me, anyway. 'Specially Tyche. With that girl. And the... thing," she added incoherently.

"Jack," the lanky young man corrected automatically, returning from the bathroom. A faintly embarrassed smile sped over his face before his gaze returned to calm yet concerned neutrality. "And I didn't have anything to do with that," he murmured. "You know I take back seat. Here. Hold still." Carefully, he applied the damp washcloth he had fetched to Jace's mouth. Then he looked up at his other two teammates. "I think I said something about pizza?"

The redhead glared at him in a vile manner, too tired to even bat his hand away as he rubbed at her face. Friggin' nursemaid. "Don't know what the hell you said. Half the time you were flirting horribly with the pink-haired laughing bitch. And at the time I think I was still mashing the brains out of the blonde."

Jack had the grace to color slightly at her brash comment. "And doing a hell of a job at it," he covered quickly. Then he moved away, picking up a sheaf of take-away restaurant menus as he walked towards the phone. With an air of deliberate casualness and a prayer for utmost subtlety, he pulled a pair of cartoon-patterned boxers from a kitchen chair. He turned back to the others when he reached the phone, dropping the boxers behind him and kicking them slightly back towards the bedroom area. "What do you all like on your pizza?" he asked softly.

"I wouldn't mind some mashed Romanus, but... pepperoni." Wilma sighed, glancing down at her arm, where the makings of a lovely yellow bruise was forming, "Hum, on second thought, I think I might have to skip out on the pizza. Andrew went out tonight, and if I don't get back in before him he'll rat on me."

Just then there was a knock at the door; Wilma, being the closest, moseyed on over and opened it. It was Rhiannon. "Damn people," she commented, "I want pizza! And you just left me there!" Rhia sighed as she welcomed herself in. "You guys are hard to follow." An embarrassed grin formed on her face.

"S'not our fault. You were busy raspberrying the Romanus's backs. How're we supposed to know when you were going to be done being an idiot?" Wilma regarded the girl with mild irritation. Call her crazy, but being kicked around all night, then dealing with Sailor Giggles wasn't her idea of a good time. "Anyway, you guys have fun. I'm going to head home and hope I don't get maimed on the way."

"How far away is your house?" Jace asked critically. "It's not safe, Veggies. Don't transform on the way unless you meet a mugger. I could go with you to make sure you don't end up in the pizza but, hell, after tonight, I think you're pretty damn capable of walking home, at least."

Wilma gasped, placing a hand over her heart, "Dost my ears deceive me? Was that a compliment I heard from Grumpy? I think I may faint." Smirking, she shrugged, "I'm not sure how far my house is from here. A few blocks or so...but I'm glad I have your confidence, Jacey. It makes me feel so much better."

"Oh, God, she must have beat me up harder than I thought," she lamented. "I can't believe I just said that. No matter. I still think you're a pot-smoking tree-hugging Jack-drooling hippie."

"And you're still the steel-legged grouchy ol' bitch we know and love." Wilma stuck her tongue out at Jace for good measure before going back into semi-mature mode. "Well, I'd better get started or it'll be dawn before I get home."

"Like hell you're walking." Jack appeared at Wilma's elbow, an automatically protective hand on her shoulder. "I'm calling you a cab. There's one right down the street so it won't take long."

"That's sweet of ya, Jack, but you're forgetting one thing: I lack funding." She turned her pockets out, "If this were a cartoon, there'd be moths flying out of my pockets about now."

"My treat," he responded firmly. A half-grin appeared and he shrugged. "You all are making it back safe one way or another." Moving away, it took less than a minute for Jack to call the taxi company and arrange service. As he hung the phone up, he announced, "They'll be here in a minute, Wil."

"You're the evil look-out from hell." Wilma glared at him in mock irritation, "But thanks. Rhiannon, how're you getting home?"

"Geez, I hadn't thought of that either. All I focused on was getting here," Rhia muttered. "I suppose I'll be walking alone, since no one lives over by ISAS. That is, unless Jace wants to go harass Theodore back at the dorms," she said with a slight grin. "Did you need someone to carry you or something? We can call a cab!"

Another evil flaming death glare was thrown her way for her unfortunate lack of sense in commentary. "I do not harass Theodore. Well, yes, I do, but it's none of your business anyway and personally I think he's flaming with that idiot roommate of his and somebody should tell him that his wardrobe is not good for anything but putting him up in line for the friggin' Young Businessman Of The Year Award and no we are not dating and no I wouldn't want to date Teaboy anyway frankly I'd rather kiss Perdix than - "

Jack shook his head. "Easy, Jace," he murmured gently. "You'll open the cut by your mouth again." Then he refocused on Rhiannon. "Don't worry either. If you wanna head home right away, I'll pick up the tab and you can bum a ride with Wilma. Or, if not, I'll still pay for the cab." With a faint shrug, he leaned back against his refrigerator, almost as if tired by stringing so many words together in a coherent manner.

"That's all right. I don't want to impose on anyone," Rhia shyly stated, still feeling as if she were a rookie in the game. "But I'm not that tired, if anyone needs to be fixed up or something." She explained to them briefly her medicinal hobby and continued standing there like a wallflower at the prom.

Jack shook his head and then immediately reached up to push the rogue strands back out of his face. "No imposition," he assured her. "Don't get much company around here."

"Yeah, nobody but me and the odd slavering chick," Jace said wryly. "Speaking of which - mom thinks I'm over here watching movies or writing up terrorist plans anyway, Jackalope, and I'd rather not go home looking like an assault victim. Can I fall unconscious here for a bit? Mama won't mind. She trusts you more than she trusts me."

Jack nodded. "Of course. You know my place is yours." He motioned vaguely back towards his unmade bed. "You can have it."

"Cool," she said blearily, rolling forward. "Now all I need is a top saying, "I slept in Jack's bed and all I got was this retarded t-shirt'..."

"Hey, wait a minute," exclaimed Rhia. An epiphany! "Exactly how old are you, Jack? I wasn't ever informed, and none of us have ever really been introduced." The question was placed oddly, but it was still one of validity.

"Eighteen for another few weeks. Why?" Jack quirked an eyebrow at Rhia and half-grinned. "Not afraid that I'm corrupting a minor or anything, right?" He moved forward and pulled one of his plain kitchen chairs away from the table. "Have a seat," he offered. Then he frowned. Damn Tyche, he cursed silently. Still hanging about... Aloud, he added, "Look tired."

Rhiannon sat down. "No reason, I just don't know much about any of you. But we can catch up later or something. I really am tired myself." She yawned and chuckled simultaneously at his witty remark. "What you do in your house is your business," Rhia grinned once more and winked.

"Damn right it's his business who he does in his house," snorted Jace from his bed, sitting up to eye Rhia. "And if anybody's going to corrupt anybody else around here, it's going to be me. And I'm seventeen. I'm legal for whatever."

Swallowing, Jack stepped back from Rhia's chair, head ducked. Suddenly, he was grateful that he had forgotten to get his hair trimmed up the other day. Some of the strands were just long enough to hide the faint color that had sprung to his face at Jace's words.

"Aww, that's cute," Rhiannon said, sliding about in her chair. It seemed as if Jack was alone in a room with three crazy girls, and they had all finally realized it. Daunting. The tallest girl stood up and slid her chair aside, "Jace dear, are you sure?" She approached Jack with gentle sneer at the redhead just a few feet away.

"Damn sure, Giggles," Jace retorted. "And don't try to get down his pants as Jack, he gets all blushy."

"Blushy?" Rhia stuttered. "Playing the coy angle, are we?" She nudged Jack in the side, then gave him back his space.

The object of the discussion shifted uneasily from foot to foot and, finally, visibly relaxed once Rhia had cat-stalked her way away again. He still shot a mildly desperate look towards Wilma, the only one who had apparently decided that it was not open season on Jack.

Wilma rolled her eyes, "Giggles, back off. Playin' the slut isn't your style." Before Jace could bust in with one of her usual hippie comment, she grinned, "We all know it's Legs over there that can pull off being slutty."

"I do not play slutty, hippie!" Jace said indignantly, then looked thoughtful. "Though, admittedly, cripple-fetish-porn is my third profession of choice. It's Giggles who's the slutty one. I just feel sorry for T - all the guys at ISAS."

"Why can't I be the slut, too?" inferred Rhia, stomping her foot down. "If I can't be the slut, then I'm the catholic school girl. Wait.. I was already that; I need to be something else." she thought for a moment. "Any ideas?"

The redhead sniggered. "Don't worry. You can take the 'slut' title. Wilma gets the starry-eyed tree-hugger title. I don't fit the slut requirements, anyway."

"Hey! wait a minute," Rhiannon came upon a revelation, "I don't wanna be the slut!"

"Jack could always be the slut," Jace suggested innocently. "I'm sure all the Graikos girls would find that... interesting."

"My hippie values say no. Jack can't be the slut."

"Thanks," Jack murmured. "But I think they're beyond hearing that." He sighed and indicated Rhiannon with a one-shouldered shrug. Indeed, the tall girl's eyes had already lit up at the notion of "Jack the Slut."

"I sure would," Rhiannon seductively stated, regaining her steps back toward him. Realizing her actions, she came upon yet another revelation! Amazing! "DAMN IT! I AM THE SLUT!"

"Congratulations," said Jace, rolling her eyes. "Are you sure it really wasn't only me who got hit over the head? Go home before you hurt yourself, Giggles."

Still in shock of her many revelations, Rhia pushed the chair over, and separated herself from the others. "That might actually be a good idea. I need some rest."

Just then, there was a buzz at the intercom beside the door. Quickly, Jack made his way over and clicked it. He listened for a moment and then murmured, "Thanks, man." Then he turned it off and turned back to the others. "Cab's here," he announced. "Who's cathin' this one?" Smiling faintly as he awaited an answer, he fished in his back pocket for his wallet.

"That'd be me." Wilma raised her hand, wincing as she found a new bruise in a whole new area. "Erck. Thanks a lot, Jack."

"Hey, no worries." Jack opened his wallet and frowned down into it. "Y'know, I have no clue how much you'll need," he muttered. Finally, he pulled out two twenties and handed them to her. "This should cover it, I think. I hope."

Wilma took the money, snickering, "If not, I can always hope to pay off the driver with sexual favors." At the semi-horrified look on Jack's face, she giggled, holding up her hands, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Rhia, you coming?"

"This would be my leave." she stumbled over to the door where Jack stood, and grabbed quite another pair of bills from his newly-open wallet. "Grazie mille, Jack. Ciao everyone!"

As the two whirlwinds tore out of the apartment and clattered down the stairs to the waiting cab, Jack still stood by the door, wallet in one hand, other hand raised as if offering the two bills again. Slowly, he blinked, looked down at his virtually empty wallet, and sighed. "Did I just get mugged?" he asked Jace dryly as he refolded the wallet and jammed it back into his back pocket.

return to the legend