Chapter Twelve:
What Comes Up
by Angie, Colin, Dani, Morgan, Rachel and Sugar
Grandin Road. Seven in the evening. Do you know where your Astronomia are? One such member, Haydn Cyningesleah, was in a dark corner near the Natural Food Co-op and Deli engaged in a natural herb.
"I see no reason I'm here," Haydn murmured to a lump in the pocket of his left unbuttoned button-up shirt. The Welsh boy made a harrumph sound as he settled himself into a seat on a nearby bench.
"You whippersnappers, you have no patience and no respect for the times!" Clavius, a cricket, poked his head out Haydn's pocket. In his disgruntled, gruff voice he continued, "I said we needed to be here and be here we will. Ah, how I ache tonight! War wound from 'nam acting up."
Haydn stared down at the small, black head that is poked out from his pocket. "Really. Why don't you tell me that story about that night in the brothel?"
If crickets could blush, one could assume Clavius would be red. However, crickets cannot blush, and thus Clavius contented himself with rubbing his legs together in the sound of music known only to crickets. "Shutup, youngling! Go back to your recreational activities. AH! How I miss the days of swing dancing in the forties."
Haydn didn't respond immediately, rather he took a long drag off of a rolled up piece of paper. "Me too, Clavius," he finally said as he gazed out towards the rapidly darkening night. "So, am I waiting for someone to show up or can I leave? We've been here since four, Clavius."
"Patience, whippersnapper. Patience! I remember patience! You try waiting for hours in dug ditches in case those 'namese come jumping over, trying to shoot you! Hiding in trees for days!" Clavius ranted as he jumped out of the pocket and crawled his way up onto Haydn's shoulder.
"Yeah, okay," Haydn responded. This was going to be a long night.
It was not yet night for a woman only just returning from her place of work; being that she usually didn't get out of the climbing gym until around eight-thirty-some, this was a rather good hour for her. Seeing as it was not particularly in her nature, however, to be chipper, she was not chipper, and was instead in the mood many would call 'pissy'.
Kicking a half-crushed cola can from her path, she trudged her dark way into a lamp-lit area and muttered something about litter. Following it up with a deeply offensive European curse, she ran a hand through cropped magenta hair, blinked already half-closed turquoise eyes, and adjusted her bomber jacket on her shoulders. A clomp of military boots, ringing throughout, announced her entrance to an unknown-to-her area. Pushing her pair of sunglasses back onto her beaky Roman nose, she kicked something unseen on the ground and was suddenly reminded of the bruise on her right leg muscle.
Wincing visibly and hissing something European from between clenched teeth, she bent to the ground and massaged the tense calf that pained her to walk on. "El stoopide maskels, dey 'ert comme la tête de merde..."
"Now, she does not sound as if she is in a very good mood," Haydn said as he nodded his head in the direction of the cursing woman. He snubbed the natural herb in his hands against the bench as he continued to gaze at the foreign person speaking in foreign speak. You just do not see that very often in Roanoke.
"Her, Haydn!" Clavius shouted, rather forcefully, as he crawled down Haydn's arm and took off on a record-setting hop towards the woman.
Haydn sighed as he stood from his comfortable position on the bench. With on last forlorn look at the butt of his smoked object, he flicked it towards the trashcan before he hurried after his guardian. "Clavius!"
"Excuse me, Triangulum?" Clavius cricked out as he skidded to a stop on the top of the woman's boot. Please don't let her try and step on him.
Franzeska - for that was the woman's name - blinked aghast at the insect on her footwear. She looked ready to scream more obscure European curses, and recoiled slightly, her left eyelid beginning to twitch slightly. "I zeenk you shood look ap yor defeeneesion of 'galagzy', small halluseenatoree eensect..." Her dusky cheeks turning red, she exploded, "Doo I look maid off SCHTARS to yuu?!"
"No," responded Clavius, rather patiently, "you look made of 97% water."
Haydn groaned as he bent down to scoop his cricket off of the European's choice of shoes. Never mind how strange this must appear to Franzeska. "Right, we were just going," he said as he plucked the screaming cricket off of Franzeska's shoe and rose to a standing position.
"This whippersnapper LIES. You, European lady, are Triangulum."
The silence fell as Haydn tried to cover the cricket's mouth. What in the name of hell was Clavius doing? Are guardians supposed to do this? Why was there no handbook included in having a talking cricket?!
Franzeska blinked widely. Sunglasses slipped from her nose, and she was quick in instinctively catching them. Looking slightly taken aback, she opened her mouth, closed it again, and opened it again. "W-well..." Brow furrowing with the frustration of this nonsensical revelation, she shook her head. "Impozzeebel. If I am not de galagzy I moost be de conzdellazion und..." She shook her head again and flicked a half-crushed package of cigarettes from a pocket in her bomber, then lit up with a Union Jack lighter she fished from a pocket in her pants.
Taking a thick lungful of a drag and exhaling an equally thick cloud of cigarette smoke, she awkwardly stuffed the sunglasses into a pocket, revealing dark turquoise eyes surrounded by telltale circles. Obviously she hadn't been getting much sleep and, as could be told by her stiff movements, she was looking slightly arthritic. The tobacco seemed to relax her, however, and she closed her eyes between drags of the tar-filled toxin. "Conzdellazion... galagzy... schtar... oi."
Blinking her eyes and leaning her forehead against the heel of her hand, she concentrated. "Ai tzink... Ai tzink zat some proof ees een ordair." Taking another thick inhalation of her poison, she focused the exhalation of her next smoke cloud at the boy and his cricket.
Haydn gawked at Frankie. Did she really think cigarette smoke was going to put Clavius and him down? Lady, lady, obviously you do not know who he is. "Yes, Clavius, proof?" Haydn asked, his eyebrow arching as he loosened his hold on the small, black insect.
"Back in the day of the war, we never would've demanded proof of our high-ups. What they said went. This is blasphemy! I'd be in my right mind to discharge you, Triangulum," Clavius ranted as he hopped from Haydn's hold to land on Frankie's shoulder. "If you want proof, proof you shall have."
Clavius rubbed his legs together, producing the sound we all know and recognize as that of a cricket in heat. The melody slowly grew louder, much more than one cricket can produce, as a small silver object began to appear in his legs. "You, now," said Clavius as he stopped with the movement of his legs. "Take this and say, 'Triangulum Galactic Power, Suit Up!'." A silver set-square was visible sticking out of his legs.
Frankie tossed her cigarette over her shoulder, not caring about its trajectory, and clomped forward. "Meh. Hai-aps. I look preetay mooch like hai-ap compared tu yoo, mai creekait frahnd," she muttered, and snatched the set-square from between his legs. "Stoopeed bahgs..."
She turned the object over in her hands, feeling every crack and edge, suddenly aware that the set-square she held now was something beyond her immediate comprehension. There was something alien in the precision of the lines, something alien in the way it was made; somehow she knew that this object was not the stuff of humanity, and meant for some higher purpose she might never see.
And yet it was familiar.
"A long taim aygo..." she began, staring into the set-square's mirror version of herself. "...een a galagzy pharr, pharr ayvay - " - she paused. Taking a deep breath, she furrowed her brow. "Alright, bog. Ai weel zay yor seely words and yor seely set-sqvare but Ai am wornink yoo - if dees ees joke, you get crushed." Tossing it about in her fingers again, she said at it, "Treeangyooloom Galacteek Powaah - " - a rush of triangular shards of light volleyed from nowhere at the little set-square, startling her briefly and making the geometric implement glow- "Sooot Ap?"
Spinning, faster and faster, and the small tool now in her hand left behind it such a ribbon of light that it made it hard to open her eyes. Somewhere between her closing her eyes and her opening them, the green ribbon had broken into little pieces and surrounded her hands when she extended them to some unknown force. She could see turquoise light, and magenta light, but nothing more; all was a blur, a fast blur of power being pumped like purest electricity into her body, filling it to bursting until... Until the entire thing surrounding her, the net of turquoise with magenta gaps, woven from light and power, exploded in a flash of blinding white light. Something hit the palm of her hand and she grasped reflexively, the flow of power permeating her and spidering into the world around her. Her senses alert, she jumped forward and waved the thing in her hand with a commanding glare – and naked feet.
The woman, who barely felt like she was human anymore, stared at herself in shock. Mesh rubber- cape- green and magenta together in one outfit...? It was not so much the colors clashing as the clarity of sight that made it all look so much more glaring than it might have otherwise. She felt something clutching at her neck like a choker, something restricting her chest, armbands cutting softly into her skin with bouncy rubber netting. And the power. The power... she could almost-but-not-quite taste the power and the energy, pure as cinnamon and stinging her nostrils, in her mouth. She felt somewhat boggled and finally looked at the thing down in her hand. "Cool."
Clavius smirked from his position on Haydn. "Cool, SIR," he said as he crawled up Haydn's shirt to rest on his shoulder. "You will /address/ me as SIR, you lowly foot woman!"
Haydn rolled his eyes as his guardian went on the rampage. Again. He did, however, glance at Frankie and nod his head in approval. "Excellent. Have I introduced myself? Haydn Cyningesleah, or Sombrero --"
"Clavius," cut in the cricket as he hobbled around on Haydn's shoulder. "You, Triangulum, are the soldier of Geometry and a member of the team Astronomia. You, Triangulum, are to fight alongside your teammates and help us defeat our enemies -- all in the glory of Astronomia and Universalis," never you mind that Universalis has yet to be uncovered.
Frankie was barely paying attention. Deeply engrossed in her weapon, she ran her fingers over the laser-sharp blades, cut her fingers a couple of times, and on the whole was quite entertained by the thing. A four-bladed weapon shaped like a cross, it looked able to be thrown. She finished her examination in due course and raised an eyebrow at Clavius.
"Ooookay then, SIR," she said, in an extremely impolite and mocking tone, but in, at very least, understandable English. "Geometry. Yum. Sounds entertaining. I guess 'Triangul-' gives the whole thing away." She gave Clavius a dirty look, and went back to introducing herself to Haydn. "I am-- or, at least, I was-- Franzeska Bashir. Call me Frankie." She seemed faintly amused by the mentioning of Sombrero and added, "Olé."
Haydn looked away to roll his eyes. Why must everyone say that? He opened his mouth to say something, but was once again cut off by his guardian. "Franzeska, then, would you care to accompany us for coffee? I do believe you'll want to have some more knowledge on what we are and what you are."
"My treat," Haydn offered while shooting a nasty glance at the cricket.
Triangulum tossed her shuriken a couple of times and made a noise. "Oh, fine. So I have to go back to being unintelligible. I'll have a latté in a bowl." Rolling her eyes, she sighed loudly and concentrated hard on detransforming, doing so in a shower of bright sparkles. "Whot Ai ahm, yesss. Tehl me whot Ai'm supposehd tu doo. Beh," she coughed.
Nodding in approval at Haydn and giving him the hint of what could've been a smile, she fixed her bomber jacket and put her sunglasses back on. "Lez go!"
"Should I?" Hedy inquired as she piled her hair on top of her head in front of the full-length mirror she stood in front of. "Maybe it is too soon?" she asked as one eyebrow furrowed in question.
The blonde glanced at her reflection. Percy did say she needed to patrol and she did know Jack best of all. She nodded her head at her mirror image in resolution. "I should," she confirmed to herself as she reached for her phone and snapped it on.
"Oh, where did I put that number?" she muttered as she turned to scatter the objects on her desk. Aha! She looked from the piece of paper to the phone as she dialed the number.
"Jack?"
A mild, low voice answered her summons with a smothered yawn. "Yeah? This is Jack." There was a pause. "Hedy?"
"Oh, did I wake you?" she asked. She bit her lip on her side of the phone before bringing her thumb up to her mouth to bite at the nail. "I'm sorry," she added.
"Nah," he rushed to reassure her. "I just haven't been sleeping too well. Cat-nap when I can, you know? No worries... So what's up?"
Hedy hesitated. If he wasn't sleeping well was it really good to ask him to go out on patrol? "Percy has been chomping on the bit for me to get out and patrol. I was thinking, maybe, I could convince you to go with me tonight? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to and I'll completely understand if you can't."
Keeping it cool, Montmorency. She shot herself a look in the mirror as she adjusted her phone positioning to better mess with her hair. "I figured it'd be nice for us to get together /before/ I drag you to that gala I asked you to the last time we were together. Even if we do meet up with some, um, foes," she said as she popped a bobby pin off of her shirt-hem and inserted it into her hair.
"Oh! And about the gala, really, you don't have to go if you don't want to either. I mean, it was a real spontaneous decision to ask you and we don't know each other that well.." she trailed off as she shot herself another look in the mirror. "This is not a conversation for pleasure -- this is strictly business," she muttered to herself; quiet enough for Jack not to overhear.
A gentle chuckle, so innocuous and relaxed that it was impossible to take offense, rewarded her. "One question at a time, okay?" he murmured. "Sure, I'll go out with you tonight. I was thinking about it anyway. And, uh, as for that thing... I said I'd go if you wanted me to so I will... Unless you found someone better to take. Then I hope you have fun."
"Radical. What say you to meeting in about an hour and a half? I'll swing by your place and pick you up?" She paused, considering. "Before you ask -- I'm sure."
Hedy smirked. That thing? "No. I want to go with you. I'll see what other information I can pump out of you about this Graikos business while there," she said.
"Which'll make all your dad's friends look at us like we're nut-jobs, you know, if they overhear us," he warned lightly.
"You win some and you lose some," she responded cheerfully. "Right, well, I should really be getting on the go. I'll see you in a while, no?"
"You bet. I'll be here and holdin' the penny." With a soft chuckle and an even softer goodbye, Jack hung up the phone, sighing internally over the way things had begun to snowball.
Carrick Luxington inhaled the soothing aroma of various foreign coffees and released it in a sigh. Wiping down tables wasn't exactly the young man's idea of a good time, but it earned his allowance. Then again, making roughly below minimum wage by virtue being flesh of the proprietor touched somewhat on slavery.
Carrick surveyed the tables, giving each a once over to confirm cleanliness. After seeing that he had a job done at least somewhat well, he walked back to his normal homework perch behind the counter. Just as he was opening his calc book, which, due to its sheer mass might've been better called a tome, he noticed a passable young man and an interesting looking woman enter and seat themselves by a window.
Frankie, seating herself as comfortably as was possible in her current state (somewhat half-slumped over the chair, one arm draped over the backrest, one resting on the table, her legs flopped out like damp noodles), ran her non-backrest-draped hand through her short magenta curls and sighed.
This was a reasonable place, she assessed, as the mingle of coffee scents settled her mind into a more relaxed state. Back in Euskadi - Basque Country to nonnatives - she had developed a feverous addiction to the stuff, and only the strong foreign coffees really did anything. The instant stuff, she found on her first visit to America, was horse refuse. She was quite wiling to spend that extra money to buy it fresh, and it was in cafés such as this one that her morning, afternoon and night addiction was best fulfilled. A smile crept over her face despite the lack of nicotine. For now, caffeine would be her chemical. She wished suddenly that she were senshi of Chemistry; Geometry served little use in the world of fulfilling drug-directed urges.
"So," she muttered, gravelly, and picked up one of the little menus to stare closely at the type. Gods, she thought, even after almost seven years English still looked confusing any time after four. "Whaddyu feeel laik, Hey-dihn?"
Haydn looked up from his preoccupation with Clavius to shrug his shoulders. "Something strong," he muttered as he attempted to shove the insect guardian into the pocket of his shirt.
Why did he get that *bug* as his guardian? What cruel fate the Universe did spin. If he ever got a chance to meet up with Universalis, he'd have quite a few words to say to her. . .or him. That is, if they assign the guardians. His bright eyes focused back on his cricket as he grasped two firm hands around the squirming creature. "Now what?" he hissed, not daring to look up at Frankie as his eyes darkened.
"Another one, Haydn," Clavius said as he struggled to get out of the hold of the Welsh boy. His small frame twisted in the tightening grip before he managed to get himself out and onto the floor. Just what every fine establishment needs to boost sales; a cricket, on the floor.
"JESUS!" Haydn exclaimed as he stood up to go after his guardian. Maybe, if he was lucky, someone in the cafe would see the cricket and squash it; but, Haydn is not the senshi of luck, is he? He turned his head to roll his eyes at Frankie before he dropped on the floor and cupped his hands around the cricket right in front of the boy working. "GOTCHA!"
Carrick looked up from his calc book and then down to the floor to see the other boy lying there, hands cupped about something. "Err, pardon me sir, but might I ask what you're doing on the floor?"
Haydn looked up, slowly, as he was addressed by Carrick. Hoo boy. How does one explain this? "My *pet* cricket got loose--"
"Pet cricket my shot-at ASS in 'nam!" Clavius squeaked as he wriggled out of Haydn's grasp once more. The invertebrate shot a dirty look at his charge as he hopped towards Carrick. "I believe you know who you are," he said in a matter of fact sort-of tone as he surveyed Carrick.
Haydn stared at Clavius as the cricket attached himself to Carrick's pants and began traveling upwards. "See, I know ventriloquism," he said desperately as his hands reached out to pry the cricket from the other boy’s pants. This was quite a night.
"Oh, stuff it, whippersnapper!" hissed Clavius as he escaped Haydn's hands to get to Rick's shirt. "Gemma, no? Good, this will make it a lot easier. Gemma, this is your teammate Sombrero and over there," he paused to extend a black leg towards Frankie, "is Triangulum."
Carrick gently picked the cricket off of his shirt and put him in his hand. He looked down at Clavius, "You're another one of those talking animal-destiny things, aren't you? What do you want now?"
Clavius looked very taken aback by the tone that Carrick adopted. "I want your scrawny ass to report to the battlefield tonight, that is what I want. We have a new recruit to train and an untrained cadet, Sombrero, who needs to learn the ways of war." He released himself from Carrick as he dodged his way through the crowds to return to Frankie.
"So, um, I guess you've seen these things before? Nice to meet you, I suppose. I'm Haydn Cyningesleah -- yeah, don't bother with the last name," Haydn said as he extended his hand towards Rick.
Rick shook Haydn's hand, "I am Carrick Luxington; a pleasure, I'm sure. And your friend there...?" he motioned towards Frankie.
Franzeska, who had been only half-interested in the exchange (the other half of her attention being on the cricket, whom she found very entertaining), blinked randomly. "Franzeska Bashir," she said and, sick of people, went back to patting the cricket. She did, however, continue to speak. "I preefair 'Frankie' tu 'Yoor Freend Dere', thankyu." She didn't expect anyone to understand, so she went back to learning cricket-speak and left the men to their conversation.
Carrick blinked at the woman's stern reply, "Your dialect sounds familiar; I think I might've heard it in while we were vacationing in Europe. Say, you aren't Basque, are you?"
Frankie blinked as an answer. Blinks were one of her prime means of communication, in fact, and without them at this point she would be done for. "Ceeveeleesaseeon een de meedel of No-Ceeveeleesaseeon Laand? Ai ahm proowd of yuu, boy." She stood, grinned with every single one of her should-have-been-pointed teeth, and laughed. "Noh wan eevain knows Euskadi exeests in zis town, ees like tryeeng to geht caiv-mehn to talk about you-ten-seels." She nodded her magenta-curled head, and smiled an unusual, but present smile. "I ahm Basque, oui!"
Clavius gave a grunt as he affixed a dirty look at Frankie. "What is this talk of countries? We need to talk about WAR! Training! HA!" He barked as he paced around along Haydn's shoulders. The cricket shifted his legs as to look in a military march before he came to a stop in front of Rick. "You, Gemma, when do you get down with work? We meet then for a patrol. Understood?"
Rick looked up at the clock and remembered what day it was; he nodded and answered, "I get off at six this evening. Where would you like to meet?"
"We'll meet you here," Clavius responded before anyone could object. With that said, he gave his legs a rub and said, "Where is our coffee, boy?"
Rick furrowed his brow and thought really hard, trying to remember whether or not the two (or three...?) had actually ordered coffee or not. In the sum of all of his practical coffee-serving training, he came to the conclusion that he probably would have remembered, but alas, not. "I'm not quite sure your party ordered there, Mr. Cricket," he said, "but you're more than welcome to do so, I think?"
A pause.
"Does this mean I don't have to charge you now?"
Frankie snorted from her sprawled position across the chair. "Charrge us. He whants to charrge--" she paused, realising her mistake-- "--oh." She shook her magenta head, curls bouncing. No, they hadn't ordered - that was their mistake. She grinned somewhat, baring her teeth a second time. "Ordaired or noht, I'll 'ave a medium latté - een a bowl, eef possible, oui - and an espresso." Groggily, she added, "I 'ave a feeling I'll need ze caffeen..."
Haydn looked uncomfortable for a minute. He hated that cricket. "I'll have an espresso with a dash of chocolate and mint? A grasshopper, yeah?"
"And I'll like the smallest bowl you can find of SOUP," Clavius said as he stretched out his legs for a minute. "Fresh soup."
Hedy turned the corner of the street with a lazy ease as she pulled into a parking spot in front of the building that Jack lived in. The ignition was cut with a single movement before she opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement.
Following not long after was a colorful bird who had a bag of seeds held to his beak. Hedy gave a sigh before heading up a flight of stairs to knock on the door. "Jack?" she called.
"Grmph," the bird, perched on Hedy's shoulder, grunted. It was difficult to speak with a mouthful of lovely, crunchy sunflower seeds, so Percy swallowed before he began speaking. "I don't see why Jack needs to come along." he managed finally, and pecked his colorful little head into the bag and crunched before continuing. "I mean, he doesn't obey orders from those who are obviously superior to him. That being me, of course. And he's violent. And too mellow. And irritating." Percy complained. With that said, he dipped his head back into the bag and munched cheerfully.
Before the lovebird could further denigrate the lanky artist, the door to the building opened and Jack himself stepped out, looking tired and drawn. He still smiled upon seeing Hedy, though, and nodded vaguely at Percy. "Hey," he murmured. "You weren't waiting down here long, were you?"
"Oh, no," replied Hedy as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I hope you don't mind I brought Percy." She gave an almost apologetic smile. "Are you ready, or do you need some time?" she asked, biting her lip slightly as she looked away from Jack.
Percy snorted angrily from his perch. "Why should he need time? Just transform and patrol already. It's not that difficult, last I checked." Percy said huffily, ruffling his colorful feathers. He then popped his head back into the bag and let out a forlorn squawk. "Hedy!" he cried, alarmed. "The seeds! They're finished!"
Hedy absent-mindedly patted the back of the bird before looking towards Jack with a rue smile. "Think we could fit him in there and just seal it?" she murmured in low enough tones for just the boy to hear. She paused as she turned the bird to face her. "I have more in the car, shall we?" Although Percy was the one faced to her, the question seemed to be directed more towards Jack.
Nodding, Jack stepped down off the stoop and moved towards the car. "Thanks again for driving, Hedy," he murmured. "Sorry for sponging." He reached a hand in her direction, offering the bird on her shoulder an alternative. At Percy's instant glare, though, he tucked his hand in his pocket until they reached the car. Then he opened the driver's side door for Hedy. "Think we'd do best down towards the shopping centers?" he asked.
Hedy gave a flippant wave of her wrist at Jack. "My pleasure, Jack. I called you," she said. She gave a fond smile towards Percy as the bird remained put on her shoulder. "I think so. What do you think Percy?" she asked as she slid into her seat, reaching one hand for another bag of sunflower seeds in barbecue flavor.
Percy let out a happy little noise as Hedy opened the bag and offered it to him, and paused to crunch down on his favorite flavor before replying. "Shopping mall is fine. Let's stop off at the pet feed store, while we're at it. Leta hasn't bought me food in a few weeks."
Hedy looked towards Jack in alarm as Percy mentioned not being fed. She raised an eyebrow towards the dark-haired artist, as if asking if that was true without words. "We can try to make that stop, Percy. I think Jack and I were speaking about the Centre in the Square, though?"
Jack slid into his seat and studied the bird as he pulled on his seat belt. "Has she at least cleaned your cage some?" he asked, a very slight frown on his face.
Percy hmphed. "No. But her sister did, gods bless her. Both of them don't pay much attention to me, though." Percy said flatly. He then gave Hedy his most sorrowful, pitiful gaze, and ate another seed. "Which is why I rely so much on Hedy here."
"I'm glad to help how I can," Hedy replied as she looked briefly behind her at Percy while resting at a red light. Her head moved back against the seat as she gave a low whoosh of air. "So. . ." She trailed off as she shifted the car into the appropriate gear. Nice attempt at conversation, Montmorency. "Jack, what was your first patrol like?"
He shrugged, eyes focused on the darkening road ahead. "Went out with Jace," he replied carefully. "Nothing really happened except a headache the next morning and a bruise on my shins where she kicked me. She said I was being too... Drawly for her." He sighed and shrugged again. "They tell me my accent gets thicker when I'm Tyche," he added in explanation.
Hedy raised an eyebrow at him as she turned the corner. "When I first transformed it felt like there was another part of me. Sort-of a hollow voice whispering to me. Did you have that?" she asked, her eyes moving to careful look at him from the sides while still maintaining contact with the road.
Percy squawked loudly and spit out a seed. "Awful!" he yelled, outraged. "That was -not- a sunflower seed! Hedy, you got cheated! I suggest you complain this -very- instant."
Hedy started at the squawking of Percy. Oh, Jesus! That startled her. "When I go in next, I will," she confirmed for show in even tones. Her eyes closed for a minute at the sudden disturbance before she reopened them and scanned the area for a parking spot. Quick drive, that was.
Casually, Jack pointed to a spot far off. "Better to park out of the way. We don't want to be too noticeable by the security, huh? Can't do anything 'til the stores let out anyway." Then he settled back in his seat and looked down, studying his hands. "And, yeah, I don't feel much like me when I go Tyche," he murmured softly. "Kinda fuzzy and out of it."
Hedy nodded at Jack as she maneuvered her car in that direction. "I'm not sure I like it much," she demurred as she carefully moved the car into the spot. Right, there we go. "Suppose you get to used it, no?" she asked as she unbuckled her seat belt and swiveled in her seat to look at Percy. "You ready, Perce?"
"Hah. I'm ready for everything, as usual," Percy beamed, fluffing out his feathers to impress Hedy somewhat. "Question is, are the enemy senshi ready for us?" he added.
"Probably," Jack answered with a shrug. "We'll just be more so, huh?" With a click, he released his seatbelt. "Just as soon as the sun sets properly, though. Not long."
"No, not long," Percy echoed, as he let his bright plumage fall back into place. "Leta - in one of her rare, intelligent moments - told me once my orange feathers reminded her of sunsets. Do you think so, Hedy?' Percy queried, clacking his beak at the girl.
"Oh, yes," Hedy responded as she fought to keep from giggling at the show that Percy was putting on. "They're quite lovely, Percy," she said, nodding her head in agreement as she opened her door and stepped onto the asphalt. "Don't you think so, Jack?"
"Hm? Oh." Jack twisted and offered a hand to Percy, waiting to hand him out to Hedy. "Yeah. Good colors."
Percy grudgingly hopped onto Jack's hand, then flapped onto Hedy's shoulder, nipping at her ear affectionately. He then waddled on his perch to face Jack, giving a nod of thanks. Twisting his small, feathery head around to face Hedy, he squawked cheerfully and said, "Be sure to step lightly, mind you, otherwise you ruffle my plumage."
"Dagnabbit, son! Aren't you off yet?" Clavius chirped in a disgruntled tone from his perch inside Rick's pocket. The cricket gave a satisfying rub of his hind-legs as he squinted down towards the watch on the boy's arm.
Rick looked at his watch and shrugged; he wasn't subject to labor laws, as he was the son of the proprietor. He grunted, looked around and decided the cricket, pushy as he might be, was correct. Rick moved over to the sink and started to wash his hands, he turned his head and yelled back to his father's office, "Dad, I'm gonna go for the night; the next shift's like, here or something! Ciao!"
And with that, he left.
Clavius bounced around in the pocket before getting himself into a position with his black head poking out of the top of the hem. "Off we go! We are trudging like heroes into BATTLE. Come Haydn, Frankie," he cried as the boy and cricket passed by the table. Apparently, Clavius had no care if anyone were to hear him speaking. . .a cricket.
A bewildered Haydn moved to his feet at the sound of his guardian crying out for him. He looked around the establishment to see if anyone found it odd that Rick's pocket had spoken. Brilliant green eyes surveyed the chatting area before his throat let out a contented sigh. Safe.
"Coming Frankie?" He inquired as he moved a hand to push away stray locks of copper hair.
Frankie blinked. She seemed very versed in the ways of blinkage, but otherwise she was not well-versed in the ways of being receptive. It took a good fifteen seconds before she could pile up the energy to peel herself away from the chair and climb the distance to her feet, then adjust her bomber and shrug lackadaisically.
"Zis... gmrnnz."
'Gmrnnz'. This was the exact expression of Franzeska Bashir as she trudged, back hunched, from the little café, after Haydn.
"No ver-ees, Haydeen," she mumbled tiredly, finally mastering, in her own artistic way, the pronunciation of his name. "Eer Ai am to save ze day."
Clavius looked up at the dark sky with appreciation. The time, it was a-ripe for the patrolling. One spindly leg extended to point towards an alley entrance not far off. "There," he said as he continued to point in a vicious jab.
Haydn turned a sharp corner to duck into the dark alley after finally noticing the leg that was jabbed out. The darkness cast eerie shadows on his assorted color of hair as he reached his thumb down to the tattoo on his hip. The soft skin hooked against his pants as he brought two other fingers from the opposite hand to his lips. There was a pause as he looked around before saying, "Galaxia Power, MAKEUP!" . . .all in a rush of words. No self-respecting male ever wants to have to say makeup, after all.
From his hip sprouted leafy weeds that sprung up around him before falling downwards in a spiral. His fingers extended out like a kiss that brought with it the rather obnoxious sound of a weed whacker. Thick strips of green plant material floated away from the boy to swirl around him in the shape of his uniform.
"I HATE this uniform," he seethed as he lifted the John Deere weed whacker in his arms up to a position on his shoulder. With that accomplished, he reached behind him to adjust the Mexican sombrero that hung off his neck.
Rick stifled a giggle at his comrade's choice in costume, wondering if he was supposed to be the senshi of migrant labor or merely tacos. Either way, Rick decided it was his turn to take action by shouting to the heavens, "Gemma Astra Power! Make-up!" A few fireworks and shiny objects later, a young man with a silvery tunic, miner's hat and pick-axe replaced what was once Carrick Luxington.
Gemma shot a glance over to Frankie, "It's your turn, toots."
"Say dzat agaihn ahnd get hurt," Frankie muttered, resisting the urge to run over and slap the recently-transformed Gemma and instead pulling out the still-warm set-square to transform. With a "Triangulum Galactic Power, Make Up" and multiple lights, plus spider-webbing rubber, she twirled, set down and, fully transformed, began tossing her wicked throwing-star from one hand to the other.
Triangulum felt yet another tobacco craving hit her, but for once her tar-coated lungs felt light and free of pending disease. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the sky. "Well, that's that, guys. What now, Captain Clavius, sir?" she asked, not only playing up to Clavius but falling perfectly into her role of Trekkie.
Clavius preened happily under the term of Captain Clavius. The guardian made a show of rubbing his legs together as he hobbled across the alley ground. "We hunt," he responded. "Until we find every last one of those sonnuva bitches!"
Sombrero groaned as he scooped the cricket into his hands. "C'mon," he muttered as he gestured for the others to follow him out onto the darkened street that the alley led into.
One rather annoyed Cleopatra tugged her chocolate bangs out of her mouth for the nine billionth time. If she wasn't dead set against hair-cuts, she'd probably have gotten them shaved off if only because they were annoying. In any case, her random wanderings and vague attempts to get a part-time job had taken her quite a bit away from the ratty apartment she and Michael shared, so the nineteen year old was slowly making her way home.
Shoving her hands into her pockets, she tilted her head back to stare up into the sky. Man, was she bored.
Little did she know that she was being watched intently from the shadows of the alley she had just sauntered past. Restraining a sigh, Jack pulled his green gaze from the lone girl and eyed the lovebird on his female companion's shoulder. "You sure she's Graikos, man?" he murmured.
"Absolutely certain," mumbled the guardian in reply. He nodded to himself once more. "I'd bet four bags of seed on it."
Hedy paused as she looked out towards the back of the girl. "Well, so," another pause complete with a thoughtful chew of her lip, "should we go speak to her?" she asked as a lame conclusion before inclining her head to better look down at the bird on her shoulder.
Percy nodded his colorful little head, clacking his beak. "Somewhat. You can approach her. I, being the guardian, will do the speaking."
"Once we make sure she's not gonna run away, okay?" Jack smiled faintly. "Well, here goes nothing." Stepping out, he raised a hand and called, "Um, miss?"
Cleopatra turned, crossing her arms as she did so. Normally, she would have ignored the call, thinking it for someone else, except for the fact that she was the only 'miss' on the street. When she looked over at the pair that stood at the mouth of the alley, her lips quirked and a chocolate eyebrow raised. "Do you always take your bird for a walk at night?"
A soft, shame-faced grin appeared on the tall brunette's face. "Would ya believe me if I told you he -told- use to take him for a walk?"
She smirked, "That bird doesn't look like any parrot I've ever seen," but paused as a thought struck her. Birds weren't the only thing that could talk. Without realizing it, she muttered aloud, "Or a lizard for that matter."
Percy bristled. "That's because, my dear girl, I am not a parrot." he said clearly, giving out a slight squawk of indignation. With that said, he continued, "And, just like I'm not your ordinary bird, you're not an ordinary girl. Good evening, Sailor Crius, I am Perseus - guardian of the Graikos senshi. You happen to be one of my new charges. This is Jack, and this is Hedy. Tyche and Iapetus respectively. And you are destined to fight the enemy teams in glorious battle!" Percy finished with a squawk filled with excited glee. "You should be very enthusiastic."
"First off, bird, the name is Cleopatra. Crius wears a dress. Do I look like I'm wearing a dress? Second, I already knew that, in case it wasn't obvious," orange eyes rolled, and she offered the trio a smirk.
Percy paused, and, if he could've, he would've been blushing. "Hmph," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Perhaps my - ah - guardian abilities aren't what they once were. I blame it on the pigtailed child. Anyway. This is Jack and Hedy - Tyche and Iapetus respectively."
Hedy extended a hand towards Cleopatra that came with a smile. "Hedy," she offered, leaving the surname off as if it was never meant to be there. A strand of blonde hair was pushed behind her ear as she slowly looked away from the new girl towards the darkening sky.
The lanky brunette nodded, a faint lop-sided grin his version of a handshake. "Hey, there," he murmured. "So you already knew. Great. Been out much yet?"
After relinquishing her handshake with Hedy, Cleo shook her head, her hair slapping the backs of her legs, "To be brutally honest? The only thing I've done is maul a tree."
"Impressive," Percy said sarcastically. He shifted slightly on his perch and cocked his head to the side. "Well then, care to go on patrol with us? We'd love the addition. So long as you listen to my every command, that is."
Cleo folded her arms behind her head, shrugging awkwardly, "I've got nothing better to do," she gave Hedy and Jack a half-smile, "Is the bird always this bossy?"
"Depends," responded Hedy as she shifted strands of golden hair off of one shoulder. She paused as she tilted her head to better look over at the bird, her lips curving into an affectionate smile for the oft-controlling guardian with the movement. Her eyes lowered to look toward the forms of Cleo and Jack before one eyebrow quirked in question. "So, shall we?"
Looking skywards quickly to judge the time, Jack nodded at Hedy. "Sure thing," he agreed. "Suit up and do some laps, I guess." Almost nervously, he fingered the penny strung on a leather cord around his neck.
Hedy placed a small hand on his raised arm in a friendly gesture before slipping back into the darkened alley with a beckon of her hand for the other two to follow. Her hand slid down the side of her torso before plucking her transformation item from its secure location held against her hips by her low-slung denim jeans. The jack of spades glinted against the dark light as she slowly pulled it upwards to conceal her mouth.
Her hand carelessly tossed the card up into air as she whispered, "Iapetus Urdkilthai Power, Makeup." In an immediate burst of light, her card exploded in the middle of turn to twist down out of the sky like small, writhing snakes. The tendrils grew in size as they moved to clump together around the most intimate of body parts of Hedy, as well as changing in color to shades of off-white, grey, and white. Her arm rose over one side to pluck at one of the tendril ends, causing the tendrils to fade away into her body, which gave her an eerie shade of white to obscure her features as if encased in marble. Small cracks of light appeared against her feature, breaking up the plaster-like coating before the light burst away to circle around the new figure standing there in two circles of light.
One hand decorated with twisted ties raised into the air as the twin spheres danced around Iapetus, catching the light in her fist. Her head moved up slowly as she bent one knee, placed her free hand on her hip, and moved the other hand out to juggle the roulette balls waiting inside.
"I still can't over how much I love this jacket," she mused to herself as she pulled on the white top cover.
Even as she straightened, the sound of slot machines gone wild was already fading behind her. "Ah, much better," a low voice drawled. Jack, no, Tyche straightened up to his full height a few steps further into the alley. Stretching idly, he brought his walking stick up to rest on his shoulder as he beamed at Iapetus. "Flashy show, darlin'," he commented warmly. Then he turned to the as-yet-untransformed Cleopatra. "Your turn now. Show us your stuff."
She nodded, fingering the gold ribbon tying her long hair back, before calling out her own phrase, "Crius Urdkilthai Power... Make-Up."
A somewhat expected, but still startling-- at least to her-- golden light flared from her hair ribbon, as the thing untangled itself from it's knots to tie itself into a bow, before the glow spread to her clothing. It danced from her neck to her feet, leaving her in a short-sleeved black evening dress, with slits to the hips, biking shorts, black gloves and boots. Then the light turned around and made its way back upwards, adding armor to her gloves and boots, wrapping a sash around her waist, and giving her a vest that was more metal than cloth.
The light faded as the last of it snapped around her neck to form a choker. The senshi of misfortune sighed, desperately attempting to ignore the whole dress factor of her outfit, "So we ready?"
Percy, who had jumped onto the floor to watch his senshi transform, flapped back onto Iapetus shoulder. "Of course you are. A good Graikos senshi, as I'm sure you all are, is always ready for battle! Onward, men!" Percy paused to blink down at Iapetus, the orange feathers around his beak seeming to turn a little darker. "Oh, and ladies," he added, punctuating the sentence with a squawk of triumph. With Percy's sorry excuse for an encouraging speech complete, the three senshi began to walk towards the quickly dimming horizon.
"FASTER! Run! If you were this slow in 'nam, we would've shot your ass and deported you home!" hissed Clavius as he hopped alongside the running footsteps of the three senshi in his control. The night had been calm thus far, with no sign of enemy teams -- so, why not force his three into working out a few laps?
Sombrero slowed to a stop as he reached down to scoop up the maniac cricket into his hands. He may run cross-country for school, but this was ENOUGH. Especially for the smoker amongst them, Triangulum. His green eyes flickered from side to side as he brought one shoulder up to rub at the sweat on his jaw line. "Why don't we go walk around and look for our enemies," he asked as he looked down at the cricket.
"Don't pansy out on me Sombrer--" Clavius stopped, abruptly as he twisted his head around in the hold of his specific charge. "They're nearby, comrades. The enemy, they're here. THAT WAY!" he bellowed as he struggled to get out of the hold of Sombrero, his black leg extending to the right.
Gemma, amazed at the fact he was able to keep up under all of weight of gear, turned right, as per the Clavius's orders. He looked around furtively; up, to the left, to the right, behind, over at Triangulum and Sombrero.
Nothing.
Not a single thing out of the ordinary aside from their costumes and equipment. He took this time to flash back to the last time he wore this outfit for an enemy. And then, almost as if his hat's quartz caught light right when it struck him, Gemma had an idea.
"Could both of you hit me with your magical powers, or whatever?"
Triangulum stared briefly at Gemma, and, raising a thick eyebrow, plucked uncomfortably at the bow-knotted strap around her breasts. If this was breast support, she was glad she didn't live with it. "Why'd you want us t' do that? You suicidal or something?"
She opened her left hand and clenched it, feeling the tingle of power blood-rush through it. She suddenly felt uncontrollably giddy - someone wanted her to hit them. Hit them real good. And who was she to so impolitely refuse such a request? Grinning menacingly, she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Come to think of it, that's, um, a good idea. I think I saw something on Star Trek like this once!"
She was about to prepare her attack when she suddenly realized she had no words to say. Blinking and lowering her hands, she stared at Clavius and asked, "Um, Captain, sir, I, frankly, have no clue what to do." Maybe I need to divert the antimatter resonance transducer to the sub-space dispersion discriminator, she thought to herself, attempting to make herself feel like less of a fool by quoting Star Trek.
Finally! FREEDOM! Clavius wriggled out of the hold of Sombrero to begin his hop in the direction he had indicated, but came to a stop as he heard Triangulum refer to him as captain. "Damn right, infantry!" he cried at Triangulum. He liked that one. "Say for me: The Angled Mangler," he commanded. "Or. . .Triangulum Triangulation Termination!" He had to think of that last one for a minute.
Triangulum stared, incredulous. "And who, exactly, came up with those names? Even I could do better..."
She stepped back, decided she'd go for the second because, one, she held the Angled Mangler, and two, its name was longer and alliterated (and thus, she concluded, way, way better). She began concentrating on that idea - the one of triangulation and, perhaps more attractive to her, that of termination. "Triangulation Triangulum Termination, huh..." She blinked. "Or... Triangulum Termination Triangulation..." Her magenta curls bobbed as she cocked her head questioningly, furrowing her dark brows in confusion. "Oh. Of course," her instincts said through her, causing her to nod. "It's the other way 'round."
Bending to press her hand roughly against the ground, she concentrated and, pulling her hand away, left a glowing print on the pavement. Stepping forward again, a little timer in her head showing 'thirty seconds' in bright green French, she counted five steps and bent to again press her hand against the worn cement. Suddenly, a bright, glowing beam of power-pulsing green light connected the handprints, straight as a rail, and Triangulum nodded. Stepping forward so that she was centered on the line, she set herself, evening her weight over spread legs, and began. "Triangulum Triangulation..." she lifted a hand in Gemma's direction, "Termination!"
Three sharp green beams of razor-bright light, straight and true, flew from the three points on the line toward her target at what seemed like the rate of a speeding train - and, it was likely, the very same force.
Gemma said a quick, silent prayer, hoping he remembered the exact mechanics of his quartzes. He took a deep breath, made a fist of his left and hand and raised his arm in front of him, as if he were holding a shield. After digging his feet in, he braced himself for the fireworks.
Mere seconds before Gemma would have been toast, the beams seemed to slow down and almost hover for half a second. Then, they seemed to almost collapse upon themselves, forming a mass of green light, which soon congealed into a stone --- the Triangulum chrysophase, to be exact. The gem almost hesitated for a moment, before attaching itself to Gemma's left arm.
Gemma breathed a sigh of relief, "Woah.. that's one down," turning to Sombrero, "you're next, champ."
Sombrero hesitated for a moment as he looked down at his weed whacker -- used as support instead of anything else, to be honest. He nodded as he dropped the item and held his palms out, outstretched in front him like the second step of the Macarena. "Might want to move, Triangulum," he said before he shouted the title of the name: "DEVILSNARE!"
Quickly, his hands flipped as he dropped into a low crouch with his palms pressed on the ground. His hands clenched deep into the asphalt and concrete like it was butter before he jumped back with the force, and sound, of ripping the ground with him. The rumble the elicited from the movement caused enough of a distraction for the split in the ground to go momentarily unnoticed before thick, twisting weed sprang forward and slithered toward Gemma with the idea of binding from toe up. Sombrero gently directed the weeds as he gave a small smile to Gemma. Just why is this guy doing this?
Gemma knelt down, almost as if to greet the weed and presented it his right arm. As soon as the weed made contact with his arm, it was neatly absorbed into the quartz, which was now the Sombrero Emerald.
Gemma stood up, "Thanks for the charge, guys. You see, I'm not very good at this combat business, as my only offense is my pick-axe," he motioned down to the tool at his side. Gemma looked around and continued, "Anyway, by absorbing your abilities, I can like, shoot them right back, or something. Right, Captain?"
Clavius, however, was not paying attention as he looked toward one direction. The cricket leaned forward before he was snapped to by the voice, albeit belated. "Yes, Gemma," he responded, puffing with pride at what his infantry were referring to him as. Captain was RIGHT.
"Troops, we march," he replied as he began to hop off into the dark street -- and to the battle that awaited.
The Graikos senshi had been walking for a while, and still they had yet to see any action whatsoever. Truth be told, the patrol had been rather dull; although Hedy had promised to give Percy more birdseed when they were done, which was the bird's motivation towards completing the patrol. "Honestly," sighed Percy, nestling his head in his fluffy chest as he rode lazily on Iapetus's shoulder. "One would think we would've met someone by now. Can't these gods damn other senshi be consistent?" Percy paused for a moment, his crest slicked back as he settled in for a good nap, but suddenly both crest and bird were standing at attention.
"Enemy senshi. I can feel them." he warned, voice soft.
At that exact moment, several other senshi appeared from around a corner. Percy went crazy. He leaped off of Iapetus's shoulder and flapped low around the Graikos's heads. "Attack, attack, attack!" he shrieked, and he himself dived into battle, beak aimed for Gemma's head.
Gemma heard a desperate beating of wings get louder and louder; he looked around and failed to identify the source. And then, it struck him, literally; there was a bird attempting to peck at his hand through his gauntlet. He recoiled and tried to grab for his pick-axe.
"Guys!!" he yelled as loud as he could, "I think we've like, been engaged!!"
Smiling dangerously, Tyche stepped from the shadows at the bird's attack. "Engaged?" he drawled. "Hardly. Lad, we don't even know you. Dinner and a movie first at least." He swung his walking stick neatly from his shoulder and extended it towards the wildly-waving young man. "Chances are you're going to hit those trash cans very unfortunately."
Gemma glanced over at the aforementioned trash cans and looked back towards the man. "You're almost kind of cute, except for that stick; it's kinda passe. What was that you were saying about the trash cans, again?" He caught himself for a second, "Why are we chatting like this, anyhow? I ought to be kicking your ass or something to that effect, I bet. Shall we start now, or later?"
At this point, Triangulum giggled wildly from her place, giddily tossing her shuriken from one hand to the other. She seemed to be muttering "now, now, now!" under her breath, between clenched, grinning teeth, but otherwise she looked like she needed to go to the bathroom very badly - hopping from foot to foot, looking something like a bobbing clown, she was more than eager to toss her new toy around. The adrenaline was pumping, she wasn't taking the job seriously - it was all a game, after all - and she'd be damned if she'd let this sharp, shiny object go to waste.
In no mood to wait, and focusing a gleeful, predatory eye on the opposing team's lovebird, she hissed, "Let's have chicken tonight...!"
Triangulum's taunt was enough to ruffle the guardian's feathers. He ceased his circling over the senshis’ heads and zoomed towards Triangulum at an unusually quick speed for the fat little bird. He plopped down heavily at her feet and pointed at her with a wing. "First off, I'm no chicken. Chickens are ugly, smelly birds with greasy feathers." Percy paused his rant to ruffle his colorful feathers, although it had little effect under the darkening sky. "Secondly, it's about time someone taught you not to pick on guardians with better senshi on their team. Iapetus, if you will?"
Iapetus stepped forward from the shadows behind her companions with a grim look on her face. "Were you not taught manners?" she inquired to Triangulum as she threw up the small, white balls in her hand in a whirl of stark color against the dark night. One eyebrow quirked up in a curved question as the blonde girl slowly tossed the balls up a second time before sending them out into a roll on the ground directed toward the figure of Triangulum. "RED, 60!"
The balls fell to the dark ground with a soft clatter before they began to roll in a slow sweep toward Triangulum with a hiss of steam that signified their strange change of colors into a shade of magma red that stopped just short of the Astronomia. The pause was weighted as the balls stayed where they were and began to slowly melt into a the original shade of white before --
"DUCK AND COVER!" screamed Clavius as he hopped from the shoulder of Sombrero just as the two balls burst into twin flames that bounced into the trio of Astronomia soldiers.
Sombrero jumped back as one flame shot at him with a hiss of flame and fire that caught the edge of his pants and set it with low fume of fire. "Dammit," he cried as he leapt from it to bang one hand against the small fire to stop it from spreading. His eyes turned up at the golden-haired Graikos standing behind her work with a smug look on her face. He shook his head at her before stepping back with a promise on his mind to return the favor.
"Err, Sombrero? Are you okay---EEP!" Gemma jumped back to avoid a flame attempting a repeat of Sombrero. Then, almost as if someone had hit him upside the head, he jumped on the flame, subsequently causing him to acquire the Iapetus Pearl on his left leg. He got back up and cheered himself, "What now, blondie? What now?!"
Unfortunately, he had forgotten the other flame most likely headed for Triangulum.
Triangulum had, rather than being safe instead of sorry, elected to stand up to the hurtling fireball, not minding the fact that she might very well get roasted to a crisp. As quick as a flash - a flash that could have been spent on dodging - she was on her toes and holding her weapon before her, perhaps in a stupid attempt to use it as a shield. There was no attack or defense to be called upon; simply a bold raising of a four-edged contraption in front of her.
The fireball hit, and there was a thick spray of bright sparks as it crashed against the ineffective metal blockade the magenta-headed woman had raised. Triangulum, standing up to the force behind it with the defiance of a pig-headed, bull-hearted rhinoceros, refused to be thrown back, and pressed against it with every ounce of herself. She did not scream, though she certainly could have; the feeling of having a fireball pressing into your rubber-covered arms was not a pleasant one and the flames licked at her face even as it was protected by the Angled Mangler.
After a good few seconds of intense battling, the fireball seemed to give up, and what was left was a rather crisped senshi of geometry looking somewhat astonished. She was singed very thoroughly, the rubber mesh on her arms having been warped by the heat; a lick of hair coming from behind her ear had a little flame sitting on it, looking happy. Blackened with soot and quite unhappy, Triangulum shook, the tremor causing her to bend over uncomfortably. "That," she groaned, coughing sickly, "was a bad move, Prom Queen."
As badly as she wanted to use her magic-based Triangulation Termination, she couldn't muster the energy. The feeling of being hit by a freight train was much too much for her; she already felt sick to her stomach, her world was reeling, and she felt cooked. Stepping forward with determination, making her walk professional and model- perfect, she went up to Iapetus, looked the blonde in the eye, and whispered, "Don't mess with this," then patted her stomach.
All that could be heard in the battlefield next was a senshi throwing up all over another senshi.
"Happy Birthday," said the quite sick Triangulum, wiping her mouth daintily with the back of her hand and sauntering back to the Astronomia side of things.
It was shock that kept Iapetus silent for the next minute that ticked by. The angle of which the other vomited allowed it to trickle over her legs and through her open sandals to, yes, accumulate in her toes in a sticky, smelly substance. Her mouth flapped as she attempted to form a coherent string of speech that was interrupted with--
"DEVILSNARE!" screamed Sombrero as he ripped his hands into the ground and pulled back the asphalt to send thick strands of weed up from the area in a twist of green that sprung forth to wrap around the catatonic form of Iapetus as an easy target. His hands guided the weeds forward as they snaked up around her legs and easily to her throat. "Save your blondie, Chicken," he taunted to Percy with a wink as he held the weeds in position to begin strangling the petite Graikos.
"Christ," Iapetus moaned as she struggled in the weeds. This is why you never make the first attack -- you're the first to go; either by attack or vomit. The substance grew warm inside the hold of the weeds, which caused Iapetus to whimper as she used her hands to hold the weeds from getting around her neck. "Tyche, Crius! Do something," she demanded.
Even as she looked around in panic, though, her fellow senshi of whimsical fate was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a low, velvety voice erupted behind Sombrero. "That's not very nice, friend," Tyche purred. Then the taller senshi's arm flew up and came down, walking stick held tight in his hand. It connected with the side of Sombrero's head with a sickening crack, knocking him off-balance and disrupting his concentration. "Play dead, Weed Boy."
Sombrero had little time to react to the connecting of the stick against his head. He staggered forward as his arms raised up to rush his hands to the spot of contact; warm blood staining his fingers as he staggered forward before collapsing to his knees and falling over with his eyes held tightly shut.
The fall of Haydn brought the weeds down from around Iapetus in a slither as they slowly dissipated into the ground itself with a low hiss. Her hands reached to encircle her neck as she took in choking sobs of air before she jumped up at the ooze of liquid in her shoes. Without hesitation, she fell to ground as she unraveled the sandals to throw them off with a look that clearly showcased her evident disgust and disdain.
This was Gemma's big chance, and he sure as hell knew it. There was just the problem of having three attacks banked and no clue which to use. Sombrero was floored; as was one of theirs. He turned towards Tyche, raised his hand and yelled, "Devilsnare!" Then, just like Sombrero, vines leapt out of the ground in an attempt to entangle Tyche.
He desperately looked around, trying to get a better feel for just how to keep the vines going, "Triangulum! Do something! I really don't think I'm certified to like, hold him much longer or anything!!"
It didn't take more than a moment for a sickened, doubled-over Triangulum to snap up and realize that it was her turn to attack, but actually prepping herself would take good effort. Though the first wave of nausea had disappeared after she had so kindly offered it to Iapetus, the general feeling was gruesomely, stickily present, and she didn't think she'd have the chance to deal to Tyche the same 'gift' she had Iapetus. Staggering to a straightened position, holding the Angled Mangler before her, and staring at Tyche (or, at least, one of the Tyches that hovered in front of her), she steeled herself, forcing the wave of sick down into the depths of her.
Gripping her weapon soundly, she gritted her teeth together, spreading her legs so that her weight wouldn't stagger forward or back at an inconvenient time. Lifting her arm, she tossed the huge throwing star in the general direction of the Graikos currently entwined in the struggling vines, confident that its wide, spinning arc would intersect without fail.
Luck, however, proved to be a true bitch who favored smarmy riverboat gamblers.
With a grunt, Tyche went relaxed as the weapon left her hands. Immediately, the vines around him dragged him to the ground, pulling hungrily and clumsily at his limbs. He was, perhaps, a second too slow and, even as he went down, the flying hunk of metal brushed his upper arm, cutting viciously. The dark-haired senshi grimaced at the pain, a low sound of pain slipping from him. "Dammit," he hissed.
Then, suddenly, unnervingly, he smiled whitely and raised his injured arm; though it had indeed hurt him, her attack had also neatly sheered away some of the vines holding him in place. Wasting no time, he raised his fist and brought it down, green gaze wicked on Triangulum. "Jackpot!"
Catching her shuriken and almost falling in exhaustion, the sick and burnt Triangulum was not happy with this turn of events. Beginning with a friendly - though rushingly loud - tinkling sound from far above, the turquoise-clad senshi stared upward, looking for the source. She saw the glint of gold, but too late, because in a moment golden coins rained upon her, hitting her skin with the force of falling pebbles. Squealing at the feeling of the stinging coins, she ducked, covering her face with her hands, nearly throwing herself to the ground. She could barely feel herself now, the stinging pains of the coins causing her to go numb.
Triangulum's nonexistent cry dwindled to a pathetic sob. Her head fell to her chest, and she felt like falling right there. And it was, for the most part, her own fault, as she had employed her Triangulation Termination earlier - but she wasn't about to admit that. A boiling, sinister hatred for the opposition welled up at the pit of her being. And as the coins stopped falling, she looked up, the redness of her skin not distracting her from the rather annoying gambler before her.
"Gemma," she croaked, remembering that she had given him her attack. "Gemma." She waved her hand in the air, shaky. "Use my attack on him!"
Gemma sweated some, and realized that Triangulum's attack was probably far too complex to use. "Well, er, I guess I could...?"
From the background hopped up the cricket as he sauntered forward with careful maneuver to ensure that the hopping blonde was not going to step on him. "Gemma! Direct this to Triangulum! Gemma Polish!" Clavius did not waste any time after yelling that before beginning to take his leave.
Iapetus lifted her bare foot to approach Clavius with the heel raised above his body. Well, there was vomit on them so why not cricket guts? "Crius! Stop Gemma!" she hissed out toward the other Graikos as she bounded for the cricket with her hands closing around him. "Gotcha!"
She had been watching the fighting somewhat curiously but mostly stunned. Sure, Crius had been told of what had been going on but... well, she hadn't actually taken the whole "we're at war" thing very seriously. Apparently, that had been a mistake.
Then Iapetus' voice cut through her thoughts. She made a mental note to berate herself later, turning to face Gemma. Orange eyes narrowed sharply, the nineteen year old focused on her enemy. It wouldn't due to miss.
The armor decorating her gloves glowed as she snapped her arms up in front of her face. With a shout of "CRIUS BLADES!" she whipped her arms straight out, fanning her fingers. As they had the only other time she'd used the attack, the pentagram-shaped energy blades sliced through the air towards Gemma.
Instead of ducking out of the way like any sane person would do when faced with roughly twenty dangerous objects hell-bent for them, Gemma stood fast. He raised his right arm in front of his face, shield primed to take the full force of the blow. Gemma breathed heavily waiting for the blades to connect and hoping the shield would work once more.
Contact. Or was it? The blades did not meet any resistance in the least bit. They just sailed on into the darkening barrier, which was rapidly closing in on itself. Almost instaneously, the barrier condensed into the Crius Onyx and embedded itself into the miner's arm. He then gave Crius a smug smirk and turned to Triangulum.
"I'll do my best, captain!" He didn't quite know what to expect, but shouted the words anyway, "Gemma Polish!" The world around him darkened except for his arms which started to glow with an intensity that traveled up through his costume to his helmet. Something in him caused him to yell, "Shine with stronger light!" Then a beam of light rang out in the darkness, bathing Triangulum with an empowering aura.
"What the..." orange eyes widened stunned surprise. Was that supposed to happen? No, no it wasn't, the image of the mauled tree flickering in the back of her mind told her quite clearly that her attack was not supposed to seem like a futile effort. It was not supposed be absorbed!
Her gaze was torn from staring at the shield that had absorbed her attack as Triangulum began to glow. Now, that wasn't good. Not good at all. She dropped back a few feet, wondering just what the hell she'd gotten messed up in.
Triangulum blinked for what have must been the zillionth time that evening, but her eyes were far from tired. Indeed, the spell-phrase Gemma spoke was true to its word - looking down at her hand, she noticed her own glow, hence the 'shine', and she felt stronger by far, at least in the department of Powers and Magic. She was, quite appropriately, stronging with shiner light. Shining with stronger light... whichever. Word sense didn't matter.
Except... her attack had been restored.
The girl, in her three-quarters rubber suit, grinned evilly. She felt empowered; the power made her giggle a little out the side of her mouth, and the laugh soon turned into a stomach-based chuckle, deep in her throat. She stared intently, darkly, vengefully at Crius - the only opposition member whom she had not touched so far in this battle.
Quick as a flash, she jumped to one side of the field, pressed one hand against the ground here, cart wheeled back in the other direction to touch the ground again, and hopped to the center of the line. Lifting a glowing hand - glow rendered brighter because of the magical Polish - toward Crius, she roared, "Triangulum Triangulation!" And, with a breath and an insane grin and exhilaration, "TERMINATION!"
A string of curses flashed through her mind, and Crius did the first thing that her instincts screamed at her to do-- she dropped straight to the ground, covering her head with armored hands when Triangulum had lifted her glowing palm. It didn't really help.
Crius noted, a bit distantly as the attack slammed into her and skidded her across the ground, that she would never make the mistake of taking on a glowing Triangulum. Ever. That hurt, goddammit!
It was Triangulum's turn to curse mentally, though if she had heard Crius' own mental obscenity, she would have laughed at its weakness. Now that the surge of attack power had dissipated, she grinned in exhaustion at Crius, whom she noted had been tossed around across the ground.
The previous agony was almost gone. The feeling that yes, she HAD caused someone to be physically injured, was much too gleeful to under power the pain. She could do nothing but grin in the general direction of the opposing team - yes, she HAD attacked each of them. Yes, she HAD used her awesome attack on someone. Yes, she HAD thrown up on some prissy blonde.
She felt good - only, of course, until she decided to start feeling woozy again.
A fact that was not helped in the slightest by a sudden, powerful shove at her shoulder, tilting her off-balance as Tyche pushed by, flinging vines from his lanky form as he rushed over to Crius. Long steps soon brought the senshi of luck to crouch by his fallen teammate. "Crius, darlin', come on," he muttered, voice sharp. "No lying down on this job." Sliding his hands under her arms, he hoisted her to her feet and propped her against his side.
Then Tyche put two fingers to his mouth and whistled piercingly. "Percy! Iapetus!" he shouted. "Let's get out of here while the getting's good."
Iapetus hissed slightly as she finally managed to recover herself from the fact she had been quite defiled by that magenta haired goon. Her fingers steepled together as she nodded her head in an absent gesture at Tyche before throwing the balls in her hand up once more. There was no way she was going out like that. The white flashed once before glowing into a fiery red that shaped into a pair of dice.
"Why don't we try to buy momma a new pair of shoes, mm?" She asked down to the dice as she brought them up to her lips for a kiss. Her hands curled around them as she hissed out: "Snake Eyes," with the follow of her hand expelling the dice. The red objects bumped along the ground before settling beside Gemma with one dot showing on one die and four on the other; combing to, yes, make five.
Immediately, the dice burst out with a small explosion that situated itself just by Gemma in a short rock before they sunk into the ground. Iapetus didn't wait to see the reaction, or if she had caught Gemma, as she turned on her heel and curved her hand around the arm of Tyche. "I think that sounds like the best plan of action, Tyche," she murmured.
Percy, who had been silently monitoring the battle from the ground, a good distance away, flapped upwards soon as his name was called. Without so much as a word, he landed himself upon Iapetus's shoulder and sighed. "A retreat. How I hate retreats."
"And you think the rest of us are in love with them?" Tyche snapped, eyes still on the disoriented enemy senshi as he respectively dragged and backed Crius and Iapetus towards the network of side streets. "Just go, Perseus."
Without another word, the tall senshi herded his teammates and accompanying guardian away from the scene of battle, disappearing within minutes.
Gemma glanced up to see the Graikos leaving just as he glanced down to see that Iapetus's dice were still at his feet.
"Aww, crap," he murmured as the dice started to glow and subsequently explode, the aftershock of which threw him in to a nearby garbage can. He laid there for what seemed like six or seven hours, when it only stunned him for a minute or two. He grunted as he picked himself up to stumble over towards his comrades.
"That was outrageous! If any of my fellow soldiers had seen you ragtag hooligans in battle!" Clavius huffed around as he poked his leg out at the groaning Sombrero. "Disgrace! You all were a disgrace! A blonde was able to effectively shut you down! And some smooth talking hipster with a stick. Back in 'nam, we would've--"
Sombrero reached out a shaking hand to trap the cricket in his hold before shaking his head. Slowly, he rose to his feet as he looked toward the other two Astronomia senshi with his free hand coming up to rub the healthy bump growing on his head from the stick of the smooth talking hipster. "We won, right?"