Chapter Ten:
Fortuna Favors the Bar

“Bye now! I’ll see you guys later,” Rayya waved to her departing friends. “Drive safe, okay?”

A tall blonde paused by the dark-haired girl and tapped her shoulder. “Why don’t you leave with us?” she asked. “This place is dying.”

Rayya shook her head. “No, I really can’t. I’m just sticking around to finish this drink and then I’m heading back to the dorm. I’m supposed to be finishing that paper for my politics class. Thanks for inviting me, though,” she replied, smiling brightly up at her friend.

“You’re flunking that class, aren’t you?”

Rayya flushed and looked down into her drink. “No, I’m not. I’m just not doing a spectacular job of it at the moment,” she muttered. Suddenly, she looked up again and wailed, “It’s not fair! How can something so boring be important to my major?” At this outburst, her friend looked around the bar nervously and then reached out to pat Rayya’s shoulder. Rayya pouted slightly. “That’s not helping.”

“Well, then. Go home and do the paper already. I’m outta here.”

With a sigh, Rayya nodded her friend out of the bar. This stinks, she thought. I love my major; I love most of my classes. Why can’t I love this one, too? Oh, I know. Because it’s boring and you can’t trust a politician any further than you can throw them… Well, that’s what I’ve heard. Oh. Maybe that’s why I’m having problems. I should really start watching the news… After coming to this startling conclusion, Rayya pushed all thoughts of politics and papers out of her head, leaned back in her chair, and sipped her drink as she studied the main drinking area of Jezebel’s, the most popular bar amongst Hollins’ students, probably because it was the closest… There weren’t many people around, most likely because it was a weeknight. Rayya frowned. Weeknights didn’t suit her much at all. Suddenly, she realized that her glass was empty and she raised it eye-level, glaring at it accusingly. Damn, she thought. I guess this means that I have to leave now… Unless…

Brainstorm come and gone, Rayya stood and crossed to the bar, signaling for service. “Amaretto sour, please,” she said once the bartender had gotten to her. After a minute, he handed her the drink, accepted her money, and disappeared again. Unless I have another drink, she finished her thought process with a smile. I do love the fine art of procrastination… She turned to make her way back to her table but froze in place after only a step. She was getting that weird tingling feeling again. The one that meant… Oh. Oh, damn, she thought. I’m not in the mood. Slowly, she spun on her heel and headed back to the bar. It was someone there. Whether they were Romanus, Graikos, Angelus, or Astronomia was a toss-up. Oh, please let it be Romanus, Rayya begged a silent deity. With a resigned sigh, she set her drink down and slid onto a stool, noting the interesting-looking blond girl on the next stool out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, screw it,” she muttered finally. “Julius isn’t here so I’m not doing a damn thing. I’m going to make a new friend, in fact.” Suddenly, she spun towards the other girl, smiled brilliantly, and continued in a more audible voice, “Hi, I’m Rayya. You’re not from the school, are you?”

Gwyn distractedly heard the girl speak, nearly choking on the mindchaser she was thoughtfully swishing in her mouth. She swallowed the lump of alcohol painfully, eyes watering, and breathed. After a moment she felt okay to talk again and turned happily to the questioning girl. Immediately upon seeing
her, a thought popped into her head. Wha... she's got eyes as big as a friggin' Disney character! Probably very photogenic. Interview definitely! Haven't seen anything else tonight worth shooting.... "Aah.... No." she said winded, rubbing her throat a little. " Jeez, ya caught me by surprise! I've been taste testing some of the drinks here." She pointed a thumb at the three or four empty glasses on the table. "Very involved, important research and all." She smiled, going on at her mile-a-minute pace she always seems to talk at when buzzed. "Ya see, I'm taking a.. Brake from college for a semester. My friend Jonah and I are both here from New York to make a documentary about Roanoke. The city council is counting on us to make this place look like a new American hot spot, but....um...” She slowly forgot what she was talking about. Her body suddenly felt like it had an Ice Cream headache all over. Weird, she thought, mindchasers don't usually do that. Being the pro-drinker that she is, she simply ignored the strange feeling and ordered a rum-and-coke to settle her stomach. The feeling didn't fade, but her scrutiny of it did. Suddenly she realized what a whack-job she must look and sound like. " Sorry," she laughed," I just got this odd feeling all of a sudden. I really am doing a doc, though. Or at least trying too. No offense but this town seems a little dead to me. Come to think of it, nobody even has something to say." She said sorrowfully, pulling out her camcorder from the case at her side. Looking at it with a sigh, then looking up hopefully as if struck by an idea. " HEY! You wouldn't want to do an interview, would you!?!" She grabbed Rayya's hands in a pleading way, "C'mon you seem smart and interesting! Tell me anything about your life in Roanoke. The guys, the scenes, the atmosphere, the campus, the prices, ANYTHING! And talk about your life, and experiences while you've lived here. Are you native!?! Please say yes, and don't be camera shy!" Gwyn promptly popped off the lens cap and turned the camera on, still not giving the girl a chance to argue. Although she probably was going to give the girl a heart attack from being in such close proximity with a camera. "The lighting's great too! You look awesome, the camera loves you!" Hopefully that little bit of buttering-up would seal the deal. Gwyn gently placed the camera on the counter, slightly tilted up to frame Rayya. Her entire mood switched as she went from a hyperactive stranger, to a calm, chill interviewer. She shivered a little internally at the weird feeling she couldn't seem to shake. After taking a relaxing sip of her rum and coke, she looked up expectantly at the girl. "C'mon," she insisted, "I won't take no for an answer."

After a quick blink, the faint look of puzzlement evaporated from Rayya's face and she smiled brightly. "Okay, sure," she replied. "And you don't have to compliment me. I'm a natural ham, you know." She took a quick sip of her amaretto sour and then set it down again, straightening her posture on the stool and crossing her legs. "But I still have one condition... You have to tell me your name so I know who I'm chatting with." She glanced at the empty glasses in front of the other girl. "And what your poison is. Call it my own research." She giggled gently, wondering belatedly if it was the tingly feeling or the four drinks she had downed earlier that was provoking this reaction.

My name? Gwyn thought, confused for a moment. For some reason she was surprised by the question. It felt like this girl, for whatever reason, should have already known her name. She didn't answer Rayya for a second, trying to work through the weird fog that had seemed to settle on her brain. " Gwyn, Gwyn Kelly. Sorry about that," slowly and distractedly she lied. "I thought I'd mentioned that before . . ." Her skin crawled a little. She rubbed her temple, hoping that this wasn't some kind of "flashback" from her irresponsible high school years. Her brains mulled over the information Rayya had said, and caught on something to bring her back to reality. Gwyn cleared her throat a bit and smiled, " . . . and as for my poison." She reached over and grabbed each lonely glass next to her, placing them in front of Rayya one at a time. " :: clink:: White Russian; :: clonk:: Harvey Wallbanger; :: dink:: Tequila shot from the guy in
the back; ::clang:: Mindchaser;" And she held the last glass up with a smirk. "And this, was a Rum-and-Coke. To settle my stomach, of course." Gwyn placed the last one next to the others with a "clank." Feeling a little better, she leaned over the bar, calling to the young bartender down on the other side. "Sean! I need something better this time! The last thing you gave me was no good at all!"

The young man looked at her and smiled. " Really? Well, " his voice dripped with playful sarcasm as he made her another drink, " We can't disappoint are most frequent *paying* customer now, can we?"

Gwyn cocked an eyebrow playfully, taking a sip from the drink "Don't worry, I'm good for it." Her nose wrinkled. " Eww, peach schnapps? Go fetch me a Bud-bottle instead." She waved him off, not passing on the chance watch closely as he walked away. She turned back to Rayya mischievously, "The
question isn't what is my poison. It's what isn't." Feeling much better momentarily, she let out a slight laugh. Gwyn changed gears after her beer arrived. Time to get this interview done and bounce from this bar. Every second felt like an hour in here. An hour of cold, creepy and strange infliction on her mind and body. The girl sitting next to her seemed cool, but something about her was very irksome. Familiar and strange combined into one weird aura of . . . something annoying as hell. She flicked the camcorder on, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. Outwardly, Gwyn smiled. "So, Rayya, could you tell me about your life here in Roanoke?"

"My life here in Roanoke?" Rayya repeated, taking a thoughtful sip of her drink, draining the glass then with another deeper gulp. "Well, I've only been here a few years actually. I'm originally from Pennsylvania. Kinda-Amish-y-country area." She frowned slightly. That collection of made-up words signaled that she had better cut back on the drinks; she always got very creative with her vocabulary when she could see drunk without a telescope. Then she glanced up at Gwyn and her camera. The buzzy, tingly feeling that she had bopping around her head wasn't helping the situation any either. Ah, blast it, she thought. With a brilliant smile, she refocused on the interview. "I came down here to go to Hollins University and my dad decided to follow me," she continued. "I'm a senior communications major at the school and I love it. This place is pretty sweet and definitely more lively than my last town." She gave an exaggerated grimace. "Oooo, Mannheim, excitement capital of the world!"

The buzz hit her again then and the grimace turned slightly more real. This is ridiculous. I am NOT going out looking for a fight. I'm going to sit right here and chat with Gwyn, she thought determinedly. Gwyn... Is she the problem? Cocking her head to one side, she studied her new friend. She seems so familiar. Like I know her from somewhere. Damn. Realizing that she had just paused rudely, she smiled again. "Sorry," she laughed. "My throat must be getting dry." Quickly, she calculated her alcohol level and decided that she could stand another one. She raised her hand to signal Sean and called for another drink, "Club soda and peach schnapps this time, okay?" Then she turned back to Gwyn. "Tastes like Peachy penguins," she explained.

Gwyn giggled against her own will. She could not make herself dislike this girl. And by now the alcohol had completely worn away the uncomfortable feeling from before. Her head hung lazily to the side. Eventually having to lean on her arm, propped up on the bar. She smirked and proceeded to taunt Rayya good-naturedly. "Peachy Penguins? Is that somethin' ya picked up in that Amish-y-country of yours?"

"Oh, sure thing," Rayya replied with a laugh of her own. Then she paused as she accepted the drink from Sean with a sweet smile. He smiled back briefly and headed off to help someone else. Finally, she took a sip and turned back to Gwyn. "We often have bang-up drinking binges after a good barn-raising." Her large violet eyes crossed comically in time with the quip.

Gwyn laughed harder at this, and got an idea. She raised her hand, calling to Sean loudly. "Hey, hey! Can I get a Blackhouse and root beer?" There was an affirmative grunt from the other end of the bar. Snickering, she turned back to Rayya, "I call that a Blackhouse and root beer. You can think of a cutsie name for it. I'll just drink and laugh at you, if you don't mind."

"Oh, I don't name 'em. I just drink 'em." Rayya giggled and set her drink down. "And I have the feeling I've just reached my limit. Shame to waste this one, though." Pensively, she studied the glass and then glanced up at Gwyn. "But I'm getting a bit too buzzed here." She hiccupped and blushed. "And I'm wasting your tape time here with all this drinking talk," she continued. "We -were- doing an interview, right?" Not bothering to pause for Gwyn's reply, Rayya drifted onwards, "About Roanoke... Like I said, it's a sweet city. Pretty and just busy enough. The people are nice, too. Friendly and all..."

There was a tiny bleep from the camcorder. Gwyn chuckled to herself a little more and picked it up clumsily, squinting into the viewfinder. Inside the darkened frame, a red light alerted the user that they were out of tape. She took out a case and marker, jotting a few crooked, sloppy, drunken letters on the case. The cassette was placed inside and safely tucked away in her carrying case. Flipping her long strands of hair out of her face, she looked up at Rayya remorsefully. "Tapes done, two hours goes fast at the bottom of a glass. That's one down and about 55 to go. Pretty bad for five weeks of shooting." Grimacing,
she sipped her drink as if to wash the nasty taste of that thought from her mouth. "Thanks for agreeing to help me out. I just wish this place had something, anything of interest around. Jeez, I'm just going to go film paint drying or something." She blinked and quickly backtracked, " Not that you were as boring as paint drying or anything!"

Rayya laughed. "I should hope not." She hiccupped again. "Erg. I'm definitely not drunk enough to take an insult like that with good grace." Reaching up, she ran a hand through her thick, dark hair and smiled. "Though it's a bit close there." Then she paused and looked at Gwyn with a twinkle hovering in her eyes. "Hey, you want something interesting? How 'bout a talking pig?" A giggle escaped her lips and she bit down hard to stop it from building. "I got one back at home. Maybe you can interview him?" At these words, a cold, rational corner of her mind revolted, screaming, "You can't do that! It's a secret!" Rayya misheard it and the words melted to "better get some coffee" as that magic juxtaposition of tipsiness occurred. "First, let's work on sobering up some, okay?" She signaled for Sean. "Two coffees." She shook her head. "I'm not too bad but I'm not walking home like this, right?"

Gwyn smiled. Looked down at her coffee. Then back up at Rayya incredulously. Her grin grew so wide she could barely force herself to talk. Forcibly, she sputtered, "Wha- *giggle* Did you just say 'talking pig interview'?" She tried to continue, finally making it through the sea of laughter. "Do you? You can't mean? A pig?" Gwyn grasped onto the bar, to keep herself from laughing so hard she fell off. Her eyes finally teared as the laughter subsided. She rubbed them gently, "Sorry. I'm just drunk. You mean a cop right? "

Rayya stared at her new friend in concern, a crease between her thin eyebrows. "Breathe, Gwyn, breathe," she advised gently. She patted the other girl's hand lightly. "I meant what I said. A pig who talks." She hiccuped and blushed. "And I'm not that drunk." She glanced around with exaggerated suspicion. "The pink elephants haven't arrived yet," she whispered melodramatically. Then she smiled brightly and continued, "But Julius is a real pig in every sense of the word. Such a chauvinist and he oinks in his sleep."

Gwyn blinked. Okay, maybe its some kind of campus joke? "You mean," she asked slowly, "This is on campus? Like you're mascot or something?"

"Oh, he so wishes he could be our mascot." Rayya giggled. "This pig has a bigger ego than... Than... Oh, I don't know. Nobody's ego is that big... No, he's just my little pet."

"I don't follow ya. I mean, uh, maybe I got a little too much 'taste testing' in tonight? And maybe you drank a little more than I thought too. First peachy penguins and now this." She sipped her coffee, and frowned. "Ya gotta admit you sound a little . . ."

"Looney, right?" Rayya matched her frown. "Yeah, I guess you're right there." She sat silently for a moment, thinking about what she had been saying. Inwardly, she winced. Oh, Julius was going to have her head. She knew she wasn't supposed to tell people about her guardian and being a senshi. It was all supposed to be a secret. She glanced over at the blonde girl beside her. But Gwyn seemed so familiar, like she had known her since a long time ago. Rayya remembered the fuzzy, tingly feeling from earlier that signaled a senshi's presence. Maybe Gwyn was one, too. If she brought her home and she was Romanus, Julius would have to agree she did a good thing. Sighing, she looked up and refocused on her new friend. "Okay, if you won't buy the talking pig thing, would you buy that I have an adorable pot-bellied pig and interesting neighbors?" She checked her watch. "And what else do you have to do now that the bar is closing? My neighbors might be up and one of them is a native Roanoker. You could probably get some good tape off of her."

Gwyn pondered this as only someone with an incredibly overactive and intoxicated imagination could. Native? Native good. She thought slowly. Interesting native, very good. The pros kept adding up in the innumerable point system that was her logic. Pot-bellied pig for a pet, quite interesting. Reams of unused, desperately empty tape . . . yeah that's a bad. Then, more philosophically she mused, Intelligent girl who thinks pet pig talks to her . . . well . . . The now battered and bruised common sense center of Gwyn's brain made a resounding click of disapproval. But she had been long since deaf to that. Gwyn had automatic trust in Rayya. Sure, she could turn out to be a psychotic murdering headcase, but Gwyn used to date one of those. It was something easy enough to handle.

"Okay," Gwyn replied and smiled. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but only because I like you. Then, if that pig doesn't talk, you have to let me keep the footage for any films I might do on crazy people later. Deal? "

"Deal and shake." Rayya grabbed the other girl's hand and pumped it vigorously. Then she signaled to the bartender to settle up their bills. "You won't regret this. Really you won't," she insisted.

A half-hour later, the two girls, only ever so slightly weaving yet, arrived at Rayya's dorm room. Fishing out her key from her pocket, she explained, "My dad lives in town and I should probably, technically, leave Julius with him but I just can't do it no matter how much he ticks me off. He stays there weekdays but I managed to get permission to keep him here over the weekends." She turned and smiled. "Unofficial permission, that is. My RA knows but the administration doesn't. Thank heavens." Finally managing to get the door open, she led Gwyn down the hall to her room, knocked quickly three times on the door, and paused.

Seemingly to Gwyn, Rayya had a very strange conspiritative side. Possibly she had a very reasonable and semi-normal explanation. But people who can rationalize odd things were usually more dangerous than the ignorantly weird. This started to tug at Gwyn's nerves defensively, but something funny popped in her head. Poking the other girl with her elbow, she quipped, "Did the talking pig lock you out?"

"I have to let him know I'm coming," Rayya explained. "Fair warning so he has a chance to stop doing whatever he's doing that's gonna irk me." She giggled infectiously. "Lengthens his life expectancy." Then she turned her attention back to the door, pushed it open, and flicked on the light switch just inside, calling out, "Julius, we have company. You're gonna have to be nice now."

The light came up to reveal a small, black pot-bellied pig flopped on the bed. He looked straight at Gwyn and then at Rayya and then back at Gwyn. Something almost like a sigh escaped him and Gwyn heard the words, "Rayya, you're hopeless."

At first, Gwyn snickered at the smart-allecky pig, always one to appreciate a humorous quip. But then she realized that she'd just heard a smart-allecky pig speak. The gears in her head slowly churned out a few plans of action. Plan A, was of course to leave. Leave and go home to bed. Tomorrow, she would wake up, and first thing in the morning she would join AA. This, of course, was never a serious consideration.

Plan B was even less tempting. Throw up. That really was more of a gut instinct than a plan of action. But one shouldn't expect many real ideas from their brain when they flood it with liquor and television. And drunk though she may have been, Gwyn Kelly was not about to make such a bad impression. So that "plan" was out as well.

Plan C went into affect. Plan C was actually the only plan that ever went into affect. Her mind retired again, quite pleased with itself. Gwyn removed her jacket, visibly shaken, thinking she pulled off an air of indifference. "Oh, well, the pig does talk now doesn't it? Guess I owe you a coke, Ray . . ."

She forced herself to sit down next to the pig. Denial. Never underestimate the power of denial. If she simply told herself it was no big deal, then maybe the gods would bless her with a heart attack before she realized that was bullshit. Stiffly she leaned back and again failed at an attempt to look okay with the universe in any respect. You could almost read it across her eyes as she continued to think over and over again. A talking pig, no big deal. I am ooooo-kay. If she had been sober, the pig would've been scrutinized under a whole flay of questions. But since she wasn't, she was satisfied to believe that the talking black
blur next to her was actually a pig. Could be a dog, though. Not that it would make any more sense, she thought. And then appropriately avoided thinking any deeper about it. She turned her mind towards something self absorbed. "Rayya, do you smoke? Because I don't think I've ever needed a
cigarette more in my life than I do right now. . .”

Rayya smiled slightly. "No, I don't smoke." She eased herself down onto the corner of the bed, moving slowly so she wouldn't disturb her new friend. "Gwyn, are you okay?"

"Of course, she's okay, Rayya," Julius interrupted. "Now just hush and let me do this properly. You ruined my moment with you, you know, and I want to do this right."

Rayya switched her attention to the frowning pig nearby and her worry morphed to crankiness. "What do you mean I ruined it? I did not," she retorted. "And you be nice to Gwyn. She's my friend and I don't want you yelling at her." Rayya paused. "And I don't care if she's Graikos or Angelus or Astronomia or even Romanus. I'm not fighting her! So there!" Childishly, she stuck out her tongue at the pig.

"Oh, that's very mature, Rayya. Real grown-up," Julius sneered. "I will tell her. You're not going to stop me. For your information, that girl there," he vaguely pointed his snout in Gwyn's direction, "is Romanus, one of your allies. So you can just..."

"I told you not to start with that!" Rayya whimpered. "Can't we just have a nice conversation for once, Julius?" She stood. "I'm getting us all drinks," she announced as she headed for the small fridge wedged under her desk.

"I, . . .uh. . ." Gwyn stuttered. She found herself caught in a domestic struggle centered in the twilight zone. Very uncomfortable, not to mention confusing. She eyed the door helplessly. Stepping in front of that hapless gaze was Rayya to fetch some glasses. Gwyn looked at the pig. She felt worse. She also felt that her comfort zone was quietly crashing down around her and decided she'd had enough. At the same time her mind jumped back into life, her legs jumped up as well. Her mouth opened and this jumbled bit of nonsense fell out onto the dormitory floor. "Rayya! Do you want to know why you can't have a nice conversation with him!?! Its really quite simple and taken me all of 90 seconds to figure out." She cocked an eyebrow curiously as if she was going to wait to see if Rayya knew and continued. "Its because you are an overly stressed college student and he," she said, pointing for emphasis, " . . . he is a PIG! " She cackled hellishly and felt like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. It was much easier to deal with this now that she knew it was a sick delusion. Now all she needed was therapy. Excellent. Everyone needs therapy, so therefore everything she was seeing was absolutely normal. Following the patented logic that 'mental illness is a mood, not a problem to worry about.' Her confidence restored, she spun smoothly around to Julius. "You are a pig. But we all know pigs can't talk." She smiled condescendingly, tapped a finger on her noggin, and whispered, " They don't have the brain capacity for it."

Julius shot a glare at Rayya who stood, glasses in one hand while the other covered her mouth. She was slowly turning pink from the effort of trying not to laugh. "Hmph," he grunted. "I can talk and am talking, young lady. Talking is obviously not dependent on brain power or else you'd be blessedly mute." He frowned as best he could and stared at her. "Now will you just listen to me already?" Rayya gave up in the face of her guardian's frustration and began giggling, immediately drawing Gwyn's attention back to her with the tinklingly contagious noise.

Happily, she turned back to Rayya. She figured it'd be better not to look at the pig anymore. Not until after she gets her head shrunk. "By the way, I'm Irish not Italian. I've actually never heard anybody say I look Roman before. Someone did ask if I was Spanish once." She smiled an exhausted but relieved smile. " Anyway, how 'bout them drinks?"

Obediently, Rayya turned and filled the glasses in her hand with soda. "That's Romanus," she corrected before she could stop herself. Drat. Don't encourage Julius, she berated herself. Quickly, she added to cover her slip, "So you're Irish, huh?"

Gwyn beamed brightly; obviously, if you wanted to get on this girl's good side, Irish pride would be sure to help you on your way. "Absolutely!" Gwyn exclaimed, "I wouldn't have it any other way. It suits me too perfectly." She paused and scratched her head shyly." Not that I've actually gotten a chance to go Ireland yet. . ." Popping a smile back onto her face, she clenched a determined fist, like a general rallying his troops, "But before I die, I know I'll get to! I swear it!"

"That's neat." Rayya handed over the glass and hooked her desk chair with her foot, drawing it under her to sit. "I'm mostly Italian myself. Some German and, I think, Welsh." She grinned. "Of all the British islands, huh? Wales. The least thought of one."

"Nah, that's cool. The Welsh are a great culture. They actually share a lot of the Celtic legend just like Ireland and the Scots. I read a book from there once, something about a key and a harp. . ."

"Dammit!" The sudden explosion from Julius forced the girls to look at him in surprise. Irked, he fixed a stern glare on Gwyn. "Okay, girl," he growled. "Here's the deal. I'm Julius. Guardian to Sailor Bacchus. Her," he nodded his head towards Rayya. "You are Sailor Fortuna, senshi of luck, good fortune, all that fine stuff. Now just put that damn drink down and say 'Fortuna Deus Power, Make-Up' already." His voice slowed deliberately as he added, "Right... Now."

Immediately, Gwyn's eyebrows knotted together in a disapproving V. She wasn't sure if she was sane anymore but she was damn sure some pig delusion wasn't going to talk to her in that tone. She slammed the glass on the desk and stalked threateningly over to the bossy swine. "Look here Porky," she ordered, only noticing for a second that her mother's finger had somehow taken control of her own hand. It was good at shutting Gwyn up when she was a child; a pig should be easy. She leaned over Julius and shook it furiously; her mother would have been quite proud. "I have had it up to HERE with your snotty attitude! For something so evolved in speech, you haven't learned helluva lot about manners, now have you!" She stood up straight again, finally able to drive her mother's demon spirit out. “You don't really seem too well developed in speech anyway. Fortuna Deus Power Make Up? That doesn't make any sense at all." She looked at Rayya and asked if it was some cosmetic brand that she used. Before Rayya could answer however, something terribly interesting interrupted them. It drew the awed stares of everyone in the room. "What in the hell?" Gwyn murmured, her eyes growing wide.

Rayya's eyes widened as she stared at her new friend, concern reflected in the violet depths. "Oh, wow," she murmured. "Gwyn... Be careful."

Julius, meanwhile, looked smug. "Disrespectful girl. That'll show her to doubt me," he retorted. Quickly, though, he ducked his head, cowed by the angry glare from Rayya. "She's not gonna get hurt or anything," he scowled.

Gwyn's eyes stared fixated on the wonder. Her once black pupils reflecting the light like stunning golden orbs. The light winked brighter for a moment, causing them to turn their heads, and raise their forearms protectively before their eyes. As soon as she could, Gwyn turned back to see what the source was. Slowly she circled, her hand cautiously raising from her side without her realizing it. Its shone a lustrous gold. Mirror images of everything behind her swirled across the smooth, almost liquid looking surface. Light resounded from it like splays of sunrise, accompanied by a slight hum. She squinted and realized that it was a finely engraved coin, palm sized, and ancient. Before she could observe any further, her hand outstretched, and ever so slightly, her index finger brushed against it. A high pitched sound rang out, like wind chimes on the wind. The coin flipped furiously away, as if it had been struck by a forceful blow. The room around Gwyn turned white. Breath caught in her chest, eyes fixated on the medallion as it soared above, her stomach pitched upwards in her throat. It was the feeling you get when an elevator jumps into its climb. She couldn't tell the speed at which she traveled, there was no wind. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and gazed up again. She opened her mouth to say something.

There wasn't enough time to get it out.

The coin was all she could see. Only this time it was not due to fascination. The coin had gotten BIG. It stopped its aforementioned flipping with a muted slam against an invisible floor behind it. This is when she realized that the rising sensation had turned into a falling sensation in a matter of seconds. She fell into the coin, with a heavy sploosh. Then, after a discernable pause, came running out the other side. Stopping on shaky legs, in a field of black.

She started walking forwards, spun around 360 degrees, and couldn't find the coin anywhere. It was black around her, but perfectly lit. Just like a painted room. Gwyn continued backing up, till something caught under her foot and tumbled to the floor. She sat up, and rubbing her head, heard something echoing in the emptiness. Reluctantly she turned to see what the hell this was.

"Oh, hey. How's everybody's favorite little dead boy? " She muttered to the skinny little dead boy. She didn't know how she knew he was dead.

He didn't argue though. In fact he smiled, seemingly not offended in any way. "Hello Fortuna. You look well. Are we ready?"

Gwyn flipped off the floor into a kneeling position. First opening her mouth to ask what the hell did Fortuna mean, then decided that she'd rather be yelping and howling about the strange costume she suddenly found herself in. She tripped again on one of her long strands of cape. Chains jangled, and she
batted part of her strange fuku away frustily. She sighed and sat up again, asking pitifully what in the hell she was supposed to be ready for.

The boy smiled again. Gwyn decided that cute little dead boy smiles were creepy, but listened anyway. "Ready to save mankind from an unwarranted evil. To defend the Earth's fate?"

Gwyn sarcastically muttered something like, oh, of course, I had that written in my day planner today, now didn't I? She hung her head and slipped her forefingers under her thorny tiara to message her temples. "Look," she started, but immediately silenced when she found the slightly transparent boy hovering just about an inch from her face. Even her breath was stopped as she gazed through his dark childlike eyes. He thrust something into her palms, and looking into his hands she could see a long wooden stick. She started inquiringly, somewhat afraid to grip it. Her breath was released from an eternity trapped in her paralyzed lungs. Gwyn's comfort disappeared though. . . When she realized she was inhaling him. She stopped breathing again, and his face regenerated in a smokey metamorphosis. Inside her mind his smoke penetrated. It felt like someone rinsing your memory with a cold spray. She felt her senses expand. Like she had only experienced life through the crack in-between doors, and someone had just now flung them open all the way. Existence seemed to take on a whole new meaning. Then, just like that, he was gone.

She looked around at Rayya and Julius. Realizing that she was back in the real world. Then she looked down and found herself still in the same crazy caped outfit. She shrugged and decided that this was at least a "realer" world. Another wave of "memory rinse" hit her and she stumbled a little, dizzied. This one was less pleasurable. Ideas and intentions sprouted into her consciousness as if they had always been there. Her eyes narrowed, light gleaming off her now chest mounted medallion. She peered gravely at Julius, taking out her long rod weapon, which she knew now to be, the Sors.

"Julius," She said in a voice full of discipline and purpose. She could tell that the other two had no earthly idea of what she was going to do. How could she resist? Fortuna twirled the Sors quickly, stopping it a few inches from the pig's sniveling snout. She let the suspense dangle there for a moment, wondering if he was considering being nicer to pre-awakened Senshi in the future.

Just before she thought he'd wet himself, she flipped the Sors back again, resting it across her shoulders like a baseball bat. "Thank you." She said and smiled playfully.

Rayya giggled. She couldn't help it. The stunned look on Julius' face was priceless and she knew that she wouldn't be seeing it again in a hurry. Her laughter only intensified the look, though, causing him to open and close his mouth helplessly like a beached fish. "Oh, Jules," she laughed. "Close your mouth already." With a grin and a wink, she turned back to Fortuna. "So I guess it's done then," she continued with a shrug. "Julius opened his big mouth so now you're stuck with this whole destiny thing, too." She shrugged and then raised her left hand to display a vine-carved ring on her middle finger. "This is my whatchamacallit," she explained.

"Your transformation item," Julius humphed. The disapproving squint in his eyes signaled the end of the blessed silence. "Now why don't you go ahead and transform, too, Rayya? Then I'll start the training."

Rayya grimaced. "Training? You've got to be kidding me, Julius." She looked towards Fortuna. "Do I have to?"

Fortuna flipped a strand of her long cape behind her. "Yup," she laughed “cuz I wouldn't leave you hangin' Ray. You’re the reason I'm stuck in this crazy get-up. Plus, you don't wanna be seen as the shy type, right?" She gave her a taunting grin, "Or a chicken maybe?"

"Fine then." Rayya sighed, closed her eyes for an instant, and then looked at the other two with a huge grin. In a flash, she had pulled off the ring, thrown it high in the air, and shouted, "Bacchus Deus Power, Make-up!" The ring came to an abrupt halt in the air, glowing brightly. Then disembodied laughter erupted from nowhere, causing Fortuna and Julius to frown in near-pain at the manic sound, and dark purple liquid cascaded down around Rayya from the ring. The laughter rose as Rayya was hidden completely from view by the liquid slowly hardening into a pillar. Suddenly, there was silence and the pillar exploded, showering the other two with sparkling light. When their vision cleared, they looked up to see Rayya, now Sailor Bacchus, standing in front of them with a satisfied grin on her face. "Ta-da!" she announced.

Fortuna blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Jeez, that was . . . um. . . " She sighed and forced herself not to make some wisecrack in poor taste. Rayya didn't seem too enthralled with being a senshi. "Definitely a ta-da kind of transformation." She stepped curiously around Bacchus, whose fuku was completely
different from her own. "Hmm, I can't help but wonder what kind of nutcases thought these outfits up.
I hope they know that crack kills."

Bacchus grinned. "Yeah, well, the stun factor drops when you do this transformations a few, oh, dozen times," she replied. Then she indicated Julius. "He regularly yells at me to practice and all." With a melodramatic wink, she added, much to Julius' embarrassment, "I think he's hung up on the outfit if you want to know." She lifted her arms and spun delicately on one toe, the resultant breeze lifting her flimsy overdress. Then she flopped on the bed. "You're right, though. These outfits are unbelievable. Come on. A bathing suit and a see-through toga?" Bacchus giggled. "I think the high and mighty designers are really frat boys."

Fortuna snickered and turned back to Julius. "And as for training, you can stuff it, Bacon Bits. I don't need some stuck up ex-Caesar telling me what to do."

Julius bridled visibly, his eyes squinting up at the new senshi. "I'll ignore that slight on my name," he growled. "However, I cannot ignore your obstinancy. Really, you and Rayya. Face it. You're going to have to train. I can train you. You're going to fight the others. If you want to live through that honor, you're going to have to listen to me. I know these things and you don't. You're just some punk kid who, for some unknown reason, the powers have decided to gift with this enormous responsibility. I'm starting to think that they made a horrible mistake with you. Obviously, you don't have the stability nor capacity to understand the gravity of this situation." He snorted derisively. "Between you and Rayya, I might find the makings of a decent senshi... If I utilize a food processor and start from scratch."

Fortuna laughed at his pompous, self-righteous bull. What did she need with a guardian? She could take care of herself just fine, and resented some ill-tempered jerk ordering her around. "I don't wanna hear about your slop fantasies, piggy. I have important things to accomplish here. If I were you, I would consider how your badgering and sniping is effecting Bacchus' abilities. If she's disappointed or disillusioned its because YOU are a crappy-ass guardian."

“Now Bacchus," she said seriously," how many of the enemy have you encountered, and how many Romanus are you in contact with?"

Bacchus sighed and drew her knees up to her chest, hooking her heels on the edge of her bed. She hated fighting, really hated fighting. Why oh why couldn't Julius be nice, she thought. Suddenly, realizing Fortuna had asked her a question, she glanced up. "Huh?" she asked blankly. At the answering stare, she grinned in self-deprecation. "Sorry. I was thinking about something else." She cocked her head to the side and analyzed the question.

Fortuna felt swept with a wave of concern at the other girl’s shift in mood. She understood how Rayya hated this whole thing, however, she did not share the feeling of loss. Her instincts were clear on the fact that there was a serious danger out there. A danger that threatened Bacchus as well. Fortuna winced at the idea of something happening to her new friend.

"Two," Rayya finally answered. "Two from other teams. I think one was Graikos and the other was Angelus." She snickered. "The Angelus' guardian was just as annoying at Julius here." She sobered at the combined looks of disbelief from Julius and Fortuna and shrugged. "I haven't met any other Romanus yet, though. Just you." She smiled. "And I'm already glad you're on my side. I was starting to feel like it was just me and Julius for the rest of my natural life. Not a pleasant picture, I can tell you."

Fortuna smiled, but she was worried all the same. "Elch, I don't know how the hell you lasted so long, Ray." She rolled her eyes and cupped her hand over her medallion for a moment. There was a swift puff of smoke and then Gwyn Kelly was standing in the middle of the room once again. She peered
around the room without the enhanced perception, her mind wandering off. "But I have to say, I'm impressed that you've already confronted two enemies on your own. It must've been rough."

Rayya shrugged. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "Everything happened so fast each time. One minute I was just me and the next I was duking it out with kids in costumes." She waved her hand vaguely and her outfit reverted to her street clothes, a slight improvement in the category of modesty. "Then it was over and I was heading for the door," she continued. Shrugging again to adjust the lay of her shirt, she frowned. "Sure, it was kind of a rush and I love the colors and the drama of it all but... Beating someone else up, someone who hasn't had the dubious benefit of Julius' lectures? Seems pretty damn unfair if you ask me."

Gwyn looked at Bacchus' sorrowful frown. She wished she could say Rayya was wrong, but it didn't matter. Destiny was an unstoppable force, to not fight would mean annihilation. In her mind, she had no choice. Their fate was what it was. "Well, whatever happens from now on, at least you don't have to go it alone right? I'll have your back a hundred percent! So. . ." She stuck out her hand and smiled warmly. Rayya was somebody she knew she could trust, and an important friend to have as well. " . . . partners?"

"You bet!" Rayya accepted the hand, a smile lighting up her face as she forcefully banished the philosophical questions of right and wrong. "Friends and partners."

"All right, " Gwyn replied, noticing the odd look on Julius' face. Could it be that he was actually a little happy for Ray? Heh, maybe he's not so bad after all, she thought, but he's still a pig. She let a short laugh escape her lips as she gathered up her jacket. Then she started towards the door, and stopped as if to say something totally casual. " So I'll talk to you later Ray. We'll, y'know, talk, find the other Romanus, kill the enemy mercilessly. . ." she smiled in a devilish way, "and maybe have a drink afterwards, okay?"

Rayya waved as her new friend left and then closed the door with a shake of her head. Gwyn was great, she decided. Maybe a bit bloodthirsty but maybe that was an act. Rayya smiled to herself and began getting ready for bed. I can puzzle that out more tomorrow, she thought. Gotta have something to keep my mind occupied during World Politics...

As the lights finally flickered out in the quiet dorm room, Julius snorted softly to himself. Rayya and Gwyn, Bacchus and Fortuna. Well, it was a start at least...

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