Chapter Twenty:
Chef's Special Mayhem
by Dani, Morgan and Sky
Rian Saied battled her unruly mass of hair into a ponytail, running down the stairs as she did so, distantly hearing her mother chastise her from another room, in Farsi. No running on the stairs. Her thoughts were elsewhere as they often were these days. She paused long enough to make sure her key was safe on the chain around her neck, glancing down long enough that the voice startled her.
"What is it this time?" Shawn said. "You don't really have to work tonight. Running to the store, forgot something at a friend's, need to play dress-up?"
Rian didn't so much as spare him a glance. Somehow, their whole relationship as siblings had changed since the week of Halloween and a day of pumpkin carving that had gone horribly wrong. He thought he knew something, and she wasn't about to acknowledge or discuss it. One slip of the tongue had made a mystery a little less hers and a little more her brother's than she liked, and she regretted it. That is, she would have, if she could admit that anything happened at all.
Everything had been fine, until she'd flirted with - Jack, that was right. And then she blew everything to absolute hell.
She shrugged and brushed by him, which was already getting harder to do, since he was taller than he'd been at the end of the previous school year. "I'll bring you back something, if you'll shut up."
"If you come back," Shawn said, his tone so matter-of-fact that it enraged her. "The death rate for the under-thirty group around here is pretty high."
"You don't have any idea," Rian snapped without looking back. She nearly ran down the driveway. Bad enough to find herself in a war, and realize she'd already lost teammates. Fending off her kid brother, well, that she didn't have powers for.
She was in no mood to go patrolling; just driving around wouldn't hurt. At the worst, she'd find somewhere to just hang out and study.
At the worst.
Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. This regime was brutal. So, he was failing Physical Education! Did that mean they could subject him to an athletic log? Who said picking seeds from his marijuana wasn't a sport? It certainly was a lot of work. To try and argue that before the faculty of ISAS would be suicide; but, in the end, wasn't it his goal to return home to Wales?
Already he had seen what this town was about. It was as if some satanic cult had taken over and their ringleader was that blonde with the nice legs, Iapetus. Instinctively, a hand rose to brush against the skull of his head. His calloused fingers rubbed over the shaved spikes, mourning the gentle touch of his once silky hair. His teeth clenched together as the one cohesive thought came invaded to his mind. He was on patrol for her. Next time, she would not walk away.
His free hand clenched at his side, plucking at the stitch in his side. When had he started running? He lowered his right hand from what was left of his hair to press his palm into the patch of forehead over his right eye. He hadn't been breathing properly in his fit of anger over the few Graikos he had faced. At least he had won. His full lips parted as he sucked in air from around him, filling his lungs with small amounts. "Right. Has that been an hour, Clavius?"
The cricket popped his head out from the pocket of the athletic shorts his charge was wearing. "Aye," he called up as his long, thin legs grazed over the stopwatch shoved into the same pocket. "But you are far from over for tonight, trainee! I smell battle in the air
tonight. If your luck returns," Clavius paused, turning his beady eyes up to cast ruefully on the lacking head of his charge, "we may be able to exact revenge."
"May is not the question. Will." His jaw tightened in reserve as Haydn straightened up, moving toward the corner. It was as if all thoughts he had when considering patrol revolved around that blonde and her drawling partner who gave him the mild concussion, and the dark-haired girl who stood away with the mocking smile. The Graikos. They took his hair, they'd pay. "Think they'll be out tonight?"
"Someone will," responded Clavius as he squinted one eye up at the setting sun. "And it will be an Astronomia victory. We have no allies, Haydn. Remember this. Kill all those who could fight for the axis. Damn nazis!"
Haydn chuckled as he made for the street crossing. His head shook as he stepped into the black asphalt, not bothering to look either way. "Shit!" He cried as the swerve of headlights bore down on him. Fast reaction skills saved him as he leapt back from the oncoming car, shaking his fist. "I'm a pedestrian! You watch for me!" His anger clouded into a thick Welsh accent as he glared at the window of the car.
Tires shrieked briefly as the car jerked to a stop several yards past him. Then the driver's side door flew open, and the driver seemed to levitate from the vehicle in a rage. The raving, flame-haired young woman bore down on Haydn, already spearing him with a nervous scolding.
"Absolute holy SHIT!" she shouted, coming within feet of him, waving her arms. "We have traffic lights for a reason, buddy! We have rules, and boundaries, and all kinds of safety shit in place! Are you out of your goddamn MIND? You wait until the little white guy flashes you!"
The buzzed head of Haydn bobbed up and down as he rocked up on his toes to stare down at the girl. "It was a yellow light! That means slow down, not speed up!" He shouted back as he gracefully swung his arm around to put distance between himself and the red-haired girl. "What is with you people in this town?"
"What is it! War! Was that the shrill whistles of bombs lighting the skyline of Vietnam I heard!"
This was not good. This was not good, tm. His pocket just spoke. Rather, Clavius just spoke. Haydn looked down at the small lump in his athletic shorts before he moved his hand to clutch at the silky material. "Well, no one is hurt. I'll steer clear of drinking the water in this town as it tends to make people crazy. Some run lights, some walk out in busy streets, some have balls of fire that burn your hair off, and some have giant sticks that give you concussions. You're all crazy."
Rian eyed him a moment, her gaze zapping from Haydn's face to his busy shorts and back. He was some kind of pervert, that's what it was. With talking shorts. She began to back away a step at a time, cautiously, waiting for any sudden movements. "Okay then," she said. "You have a nice day."
"We are not going anywhere, Aldebaran," came the gruff response to Rian. And it came from Haydn's pocket. "You turn around right now, Cyningesleah, or I will have you dishonorably discharged from service! March, boy!" The cricket commanded as he used his spindly legs to maneuver himself up the silky material. It was hard going. Just like those days back in the ports of Vietnam. Those were the days.
Hadyn let out a heavy, resigned sigh as he turned around with the small insect held up in one palm and the other outstretched toward Rian. Haydn was nothing if not congenial. "Haydn Cyningesleah. Sombrero. Yes, I have the hat," he said in a rush of air before
raising his eyes to the face of his teammate. Great, he had a motorist akin to Mister Burns on his team. That'd be real helpful next time they want into battle.
Rian had frozen in shock when she'd heard the guy's shorts mumble her senshi name. Hell, it wasn't as if she'd never heard a guy's shorts clamor for her. But this, out in the middle of the road, and then... A bug.
She sighed. More talking animals. No point screaming about it this time. He had to be legit. "I'm Rian," she said, with a small, self conscious wave. "I brake for Astronomia. Haydn...um..." she wracked her brain, stepping a little closer again, and glancing around to make sure no other cars were coming. "Okay, so, which was the senshi name - Sombrero, or Cyning-something? I'm not up on the Southern Hemisphere constellations."
"Thank the sweet baby Jesus I am not Graikos." The smile that split the face of the Welsh boy was quite enough to showcase what he was thinking. Rian may have almost sent him to the great divide in the sky, but she sure was all right. "You'd be peeling me off the ground and giving some hefty explanations to Universalis." Right. Things seemed a little more at ease. His talking pants had quieted, the cricket was giving itself a bath, and the light had turned red. " Sombrero. The Cyning-something is my last name. I, too, wish my mother had married another man with a surname such as Jones. I'm weeds, I guess. For my powers, er, I mean," he fumbled out. His meeting with Rick and Frankie had gone much better than this. He really felt pretty stupid. Almost getting run over as a way of meeting the girl. The stars certainly had their own destiny for how things unfolded.
He'd take up astrology in the morning. Would Uranus in his moon foretell he'd meet the next one whilst enjoying a nice chicken dinner? Food sounded a little too good. "You hungry?" He popped out as he looked up at her, his lips twitching into a little half-smile. "My treat. For almost adding vehicular homicide to your record. There is a good Vietnamese restaurant around here."
She stared at him for a beat. There were many things racking up against him - a guy, a stranger, a little loopy. Who knew whether being an Astronomia was enough to keep him from doing something to her? But...he was kind of sweet. In some way.
She nodded a little. They had to get out of the road anyway, because she could hear a car coming. "I'm glad as hell you're not Graikos, too," she said, gesturing him toward her car. "Had enough of them already. C'mon, I promise not to drive too badly, and you can tell me more about you and who the hell Universalis is."
"WHO THE HELL UNIVERSALIS IS!" gasped Clavius. If he had a 4x4 of wood, he would have clocked Rian over the head. Even if she was in the pursuit of driving. "Universalis," the cricket paused to wheeze as if this pained him so much he could not speak. "ONLY YOUR NATURAL LEADER," he wheezed out. He was going to have a heart-attack.
Haydn scuffled to stuff his cricket into his pocket, but to no avail. "Oh. This is Clavius. You can call him psychotic old coot. I call him the triple c threat: crazy coot Clavius," he said in an off-hand tone, one he hoped would smooth over the outburst of his guardian. "But, yeah, Universalis. Leader of us, I guess. Well, the good universe or something. All of us. Astronomia. Graikos. Those Angel whatcamacallits. The Roman things. And my physics teacher." The sigh he gave voiced exactly what he thought: shouldn't that warrant him an 'a' instead of a 'd-'?
"Universalis is the greatest fighter, the most efficient leader, the true powerhouse of the world. If only I had her instead of this," muttered Clavius as he rubbed his legs together before settling into a curled position on the wrist of his charge. "Now, where is my soup? Step on it, Rian!"
Having been commanded by a cricket, Rian could do little but comply. She hopped into the car, unlocking the passenger side for Haydn. "Gotta meet this Universalis," she muttered. Then she turned her head a little, watching Haydn settle in, and said, "Weeds??"
She considered the restaurant with a terribly antiseptic taste, trying for the fifteenth time that evening to convince herself that it was meant as a cultural experience - Eraen had nothing at all against the people, of course, as all cultures and creeds were acceptable in her mind, but unfortunately, the foods were not. It was, according to her cousin Marcel, a lovely night for dinner of an Oriental kind, which had sounded rather nice to Eraen at the time.
Dinner /out/, however, was not the kind of experience she was willing to let her cousin pressure her into. Or her parents, or her little sister, or the blasted goat that was trotting along behind her, well-behaved on her little blue lead.
"Marcel," Eraen murmured, clinging distantly to her much taller cousin and eyeing his dark face from under a fringe of lemon-tinted hair. "Really, we could go back to my house. They're having a lovely Caesar salad, and organically-grown fruit, and home-made bread -- I don't know why you insist on getting me out of the house--"
Marcel, hitting five-ten, being of brown hair and skin and much-better muscle tone than Eraen, grinned out the corner of his mouth and grasped his cousin's bicep. "Because you need to eat, grasshopper," he said, the smirk in his voice unappealing to the sallow girl he was pulling along. "You need to see the real world. And when you said you'd never eaten Vietnamese before, I seriously began to doubt your... uhh..." His search for words took a moment or three, and Eraen was forced to clear her throat to get him to go on. "....mental - not to mention culinary - integrity."
The short girl growled. "You have no idea of the cesspits restaurants can be -- insects and food poisoning -- cockroaches, rats, eyeballs, fingers -- you want to find a human finger in your food, you call me." She shrugged. "It's a perfectly practical approach to things. I have reasons to be questioning the food I'm served."
"Yeah, sure," said Marcel, smirking as Eraen reluctantly tied her pet goat's lead to a bicycle rack just outside the amiably-lit restaurant. Its name, Xanh Tren', was displayed over the door, and Marcel smiled at it before placing his gaze on Eraen a second time. He noted the latex gloves she wore with some disdain, puzzled as to why she would be so willing to own a goat with her... interesting habits.
"Open the door for me?" Eraen asked, giving her goat one last reassuring (as reassuring as she could possibly seem) look before motioning to the door.
Preposterous, thought the brown-haired one of the pair, smirking his usual smirk and pulling the door open. She can't even open a door without someone there to open it for her. "Afraid you'll break your arm with the effort?" he asked, showing teeth with his smile.
"Eheh. Shut up, Marcel." The girl sashayed into the restaurant, was greeted by the smells of curry and pepper and cinnamon, adjusted her turtleneck, smoothed her skirt, and immediately began surveying the restaurant with her antibiotic gaze. "Get a table near the window," she insisted.
"Yes'm," murmured the cousin, stuffing hands into the pockets of his coat. Soon after they were seated and examining the menu, though, of course, Eraen refused to sit down without first wiping down the seat of the chair she was offered.
"I'm going to have... the ginger-marinated duck with oyster sauce. Yummm," Marcel said, with a little too much emphasis. Unfortunately all the response Eraen gave him was a steel-forged glare, cold and dark.
"...Nice choice." She flipped to the vegetarian menu and laid it before her, then pointed to the most un-diseased thing she could spot. "'The Vegetarian'. I'll have it with sate sauce. Mild-to-no spice."
Her cousin gasped mockingly, predictably. "Antiseptic enough for you?" He dodged the slap with practiced grace.
Ai Noc walked out of the kitchen, brushing her hair out of her face again and flicking something off the tray she was holding. She examined one of her carefully manicured nails, reflecting again that it was a waste of time, since she almost always left there without one of them.
Stupid customers. Why weren't they all home, cooking, like they were supposed to? Nobody actually liked Vietnamese food anyway, not even Vietnamese people. Her parents were wasting their time, and wasting hers by making her help out with the family business. The same business was sucking the life right out of them, and her too, since she was here and not out clubbing.
She glanced over to the yellow-haired girl with the tall boy, near the back. She'd known the moment she sat them that the girl didn't want to be there. The way she was looking at everything! And of course, now, not touching the food. It didn't matter if everyone hated Vietnamese food, her father still slaved his ass off in the back, and anyone who didn't like it just needed to take their ass on back home.
She walked out to bus a table, clearing it with a minimum of care. Same old mess, big deal. Then she moved straight to the table in question, standing in front of them and using her best Pidgin English. "Every-thing good? Very good? Food is, how you say, okay?"
Marcel nodded his brown head and smiled at the girl who seemed to be having some trouble. "It's very good, thank you," he said, with all the social grace he possessed. "Although my cousin doesn't seem to be enjoying herself..." he said, lowering his voice and meaning to keep it to himself. Obviously, however, the waitress heard, as she responded with--
"Why you no eat?" Ai said in an annoying, whiny voice that suddenly rose in volume. "No like? NOT GOOD ENOUGH?"
Heads swiveled toward them from other tables.
Eraen didn't really seem fazed by the sudden volume of the girl's voice or her remark, more annoyed by the noise itself. She looked at her half finished-dinner and sighed to herself, glancing briefly at her frantic little goat, still tethered outside. She must have spotted a bug, the way she was running. "Oh, um," she murmured slowly, responding more as an afterthought than a direct response, "I'm just not hungry, that's all... just... taking my time..." and with that her voice faded into a gradient of muttering.
"Nhin Cao!" came a furious voice from the kitchen doorway. A small Vietnamese woman was glowering at Ai with a righteous wrath, the wrath of a mother used to such behavior. She snapped something else in Vietnamese that included a description of what color Ai's behind would be if she didn't move it. Ai slammed her tray down on the empty table next to the girl and her cousin and stalked back to the hostess's station with a sullen expression.
Outside, the little goat named Aldegundis shivered for the second time, the sensation moving from her nose to the tip of her little tail. She suddenly wished she had telepathy. Communicating with humans and actually getting the idea across is too hard for a little thing like me, thought Aldegundis, trying to pull at her leash with her teeth.
"Ha. 'Not hungry'. Nice one, cuz," muttered Marcel, obviously annoyed with his cousin and having taken it up to -there- with her nonsense. His face was red and he leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms. "Good going with the social skills. I'll be sure to call you next time I want to go out to dinner." All this in bitter tones, and not expecting an apology. It wasn't Eraen's way to apologize too honestly.
"Shut up, Marcel," said the little yellow-haired girl, her voice lacking in any kind of endearment. "You're the one who wanted to go out in the first place. You're the one who decided I should be the one to go with you. You could have taken my sister, but oh, no, you decided to take me instead..." This was one of those moments Marcel wished his cousin had a different voice, because when Eraen got snarky, her voice got irritating to match. All he really wanted was to escape her complaining. He rubbed a temple. "Damn, Eraen," came his voice from under his hand, "you're really stupid sometimes, you know?"
Eraen's cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink. "Yeah, I know," she breathed bitterly, spearing green pepper with her fork.
The bell over the front door jingled softly, and a figure sporting a dark hoody and oversized jeans slouched in and ambled up to the front counter to stand in front of Ai. He had his hood up and his hands in his pockets, and he turned long enough to angle a shadow-ridden gaze across the length of the restaurant. He said something to the
disgruntled hostess in quiet Vietnamese.
She asked him to repeat himself, and as she did so, a decrepit late-model brown hatchback pulled right up to the curb just outside the door. The would-be customer repeated himself, and this time Ai heard him clearly: open the register.
Smart enough to know better but dumb enough to be blinded by outrage, the tiny girl set her jaw, folded her arms and cocked her head at him before telling him, in two languages, to go fuck himself.
And that's when the gun came out.
"I said, open the register," Hoody said, withdrawing one hand to gesture at her loosely with a snub-nosed revolver. Small as it was, Ai already knew bad things could come in small packages - she was living proof.
"Can't," she said, holding her hands up to shoulder level and telling herself she wasn't trembling. "Needs a secret code."
Hearing a small gasp somewhere behind him and knowing they'd been noticed, Hoody swiped a hand across the counter, sending menus and assorted decorations flying. "Bullshit! Everybody down!"
Eraen let out a short scream, swallowing the majority of it in a gasp. In her panic she dove under the table, not thinking to do anything but save herself and hope for the best. Without saying a word, she tugged at Marcel's pant leg, begging him to join her in the safety of the table's shadow, and he slid from his seat, crouching next to her on the tiled floor.
The yellow-haired girl immediately began to chant her mantra from beneath her hands, which she had gathered on top of her bowing head: "Please don't let me die, please don't let me die, please don't let me die," frantically, over and over again, the pauses fading into short gasps of stressful air.
Marcel knew this wouldn't exactly be a good time for her to have a panic attack, and even as she found a yellow handkerchief in one of her pockets and held it to her nose and mouth to help slow her breathing, he had to help her somehow. Patting her shoulder and pulling her into a hug, he whispered to her what words of wisdom he could, hoping to get her breathing normally and sane once more.
Hoody flung himself half over the counter to pound on the register and force it open as various patrons slid under their tables. Ai backed away, pale, fearful that her parents would hear and get involved, but Hoody suddenly put the revolver directly in her face and shouted, "Bitch, open the register before I BLOW YOU UP!"
Rian angled around the badly and improperly parked hatchback, muttering internally about how no one knew how to drive anymore and mulling over what Haydn had told her about Universalis so far. Despite the interesting way he approached things, she found herself liking Haydn quite a bit, regardless of whether Clavius was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. She found a spot just down from the hatchback and parked, stretching herself out of the car wearily. She stood on the curb and waited for Haydn, ignoring the nervous prairie-dogging in and out of the car the bad-hatchback-parker was doing several yards away. Something was wrong with that boy.
Haydn leaned over toward the earshot of Rian. "Glad you were driving at that intersection and not him. For more than obvious reason it is nice to be picked up by pretty girls." The green eyes of the boy came up into a roll toward the high heaven as he peered into the windshield of the hatchback.
They walked together toward the door, and the hatchback's driver slouched down as far as he could as if hiding from them. They heard the shouting then; expletives and demands, and then someone screamed. Rian caught a glimpse in the window and said, "Shit, Haydn, I think they're being robbed."
That was not exactly what Haydn wanted to hear. He had gone for a jog to make physical education credit, not get shot at. Dodging bullets was too much work for him. "I think that means it is time for us to turn around and get the fuck out of Chevy," spewed the response from the boy as he took a nervous step backward.
"CHARGE!" squeaked Clavius. "That is what you do, whippersnappers. You get in there and subdue the enemy!"
"They have a gun," cringed Haydn as he crouched down, ignoring the look that was being shot his way by the kid driving the hatchback.
"SO DID THE VIETNAMESE!"
Rian glanced from Haydn to Clavius with wide eyes, then ran between the restaurant and the shoe store next door. It was only a few feet wide and nothing anyone could call an alley, but it would do. "Aldebaran Astra Power, make-up!" she said almost under her
breath, and emerged a moment later in a whirl of orange, holding her key before her. "C'mon, Haydn, element of surprise and all that! We can finally get into it with someone besides other senshi."
"Awwh, hell no!" Haydn was less than pleased with the idea of charging into what could be his death. "I don't think being transformed quite stops bullets from hurting!" he whined out in a piteous sort of voice. The look from his guardian and the expectancy of the girl before him caused him to step into the alley with a mutinous muttering underneath his breath.
"Sombrero Galaxia Power, make-up!" The words spilled out as Haydn let himself become enveloped in the mist of his transformation. Within seconds, the green light dissipated to live the Astronomia soldier of weeds standing proud - weed whacker held aloft. "If I get shot, I swear. . ."
Realizing she had no real plan except to stop the robbery, Aldebaran swallowed hard and said, "Well, you avoided getting run over earlier, so hopefully we haven't used up all our luck today." She approached the restaurant's swinging glass door from an angle with crouching trepidation, trying to get the best view she could of the counter. Then without waiting to see if Sombrero was behind her, she slammed into it to make as much noise as possible, shoving inward with her key held upright before her face.
"FREEZE!" she shouted, dodging to the left as soon as she was inside and swinging at Hoody with the head of her key. "CITIZEN'S ARREST!"
Hoody, to his credit, immediately swung the barrel of the gun toward the orange whirl of sound and fury signifying nothing, even as he ducked toward the floor. Ai, gaping in shock, ducked behind the counter, and Hoody opened fire as Aldebaran stepped backward into - and through - the wall.
The sound of gunshot was all Sombrero needed. A girlish yelp emitted from his throat as he made a dash to duck round the counter with Ai. He was not going down in smoke with this. He looked over at the civilian standing next to him. The look on her face gave him the resolve he did not have. Didn't being one of these Astronomia mean he had to protect the world? His legs came in a tuck as he rolled out from the table, his palms pressed into the floor. "Devilsnare!"
The vines shot from the floor and snaked toward Hoody, threatening to wrap around him. "You get him, Aldebaran!" Sombrero could care less who was in the restaurant - he was in the heat of the moment.
Meanwhile, Eraen still sat in uncertain safety under the table, wringing the little kerchief in her hands, completely uncertain of her own ability to get the hell out from under this table without Marcel noticing. She stuck a foot out to kick Marcel's own ankle, and muttered something to him which he could not understand, about her goat, and how she'd be back momentarily. No protest was made because Eraen, with some alien grace, slipped away from the table and ducked out the door, unfortunately ringing a bell which she hoped wouldn't be heard over the noisy fight.
"There's a fight," she said immediately, crouching to untie her pet goat, which had been straining at a leash. "And yes, I'm sorry I couldn't take you inside. You look pink," she added. "Are you alright?"
"Bzfzkadstv," stammered Aldegundis the goat, completely without comprehensibility.
"Excuse me?" answered Eraen, staring back at the pygmy goat. She continued to wring the yellow kerchief in her one hand, itching to transform and dispose of the fight.
Aldegundis gasped some air in. "S-senshi," she said, and Eraen nodded in irritation as a response. "Uh, yeah. Only senshi could produce the crawling mass of kingdom plantae that's just sprouted out of the floor in there. Let's go." But the goat's teeth held fast to her sleeve, and she had to growl another "What?" to get her to stop pulling.
"One o-of ours, th-thank you," stuttered the goat. She nudged Eraen's hand, that which still held the kerchief, and nodded a little, her little beard nodding with her. "I-I'd suggest you use th-this. Once w-we g-get back in th-there, I'll f-find our f-friend and hope for the b-best. Alright?"
Eraen shrugged, clutching her kerchief harder. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with, shall we?" Looking around, she made the decision that the street was dark enough and un-occupied enough that she could transform straight away without having to duck into some disgusting, raunchy pit of an alleyway. "Armers Grigori Power, Make Up," she murmured, breathing into her kerchief.
As the blonde customer slipped out the door and vines snaked along the floor, Aldebaran popped back through the wall and body-slammed Hoody as the vines wrapped his ankles. The gun went flying, Hoody crashed unceremoniously to the floor, and two older Vietnamese people came out of the kitchen. They were shouting and brandishing cookware. Thrashing around in the vines, Hoody began screaming in panic.
Aldebaran placed the head of her key near his nose and said, "Better stay put, badass!" just as a blonde senshi came in the door with a goat.
"Okay," the blonde said, with confidence, "why don't we all just calm down, here, and preferably not kill each other? Please?"
While Armers took what pathetic control over the situation she could, Aldegundis clicked over to the counter, behind which a young woman was crouched. Aldegundis looked her over with gentle, moist eyes. "P-please d-don't be frightened. I've c-come to give y-you something. Rather, g-give something b-back. C-could you not h-hit me while I e-explain?"
Instead, though, the little hostess jumped up from her hiding spot and began screaming, adding to the noise, and when Aldebaran saw her, she began screaming as well. Goddamnit, it was that evil monster-girl who'd been harassing her at work!
Customers stampeded for the exit in the confusion and noise, occasionally stepping on Hoody.
"Come back and pay, you bastards!" Ai shouted, forgetting about the talking goat for just an instant, using the moment to begin pelting the prone Hoody with loose silverware. Then she ducked down behind the counter again and said, "Why are you a talking goat, and why are you talking to me?"
The goat, Aldegundis, looked shakily up at the girl and did the best she could to smile reassuringly. It ended up looking more like a horrible grimace from one of those grotesque Mardi Gras masks, or of some lost Incan idol who demanded sacrifices.
"Your f-first q-question is related t-to the c-cosmology and d-distribution of energy throughout p-people like myself, and like th-those p-people out there." She meant the senshi, of course, and such was fairly obvious due to the sudden evacuation of the restaurant. "B-basically, I'm a reincarnated s-saint who d-didn't have enough p-power to manifest a h-humanoid body like th-theirs - " - again with the emphasis that indicated 'them' were the people in funny suits beating on petty burglars - "- although in the g-grand scheme of th-things, I s-suppose that the g-goat is a f-fairly humanoid construct... b-but anyway. I'm a v-very, v-very r-reduced one of th-them. All I c-can d-do is g-give them g-guidance, and f-find people like you.
"And that b-brings me t-to your s-second point. I'm t-talking t-to you because you have a-an amazing d-destiny within you, and I'm ch-charged to m-make it c-come alive, to allow it t-to grow into Sailor Kokabel, for th-that is who you are, and you are G-Grigori, like Armers out th-there. Are y-you f-familiar with the idea of J-Judeo-Christian a-angels?" she finished, rather unexpectedly, even for herself.
Ai stared for a heartbeat, listening to the craziness continue on the other side of the counter. Her parents were yelling about Americans and their crime, never realizing that no one understood a damn word but her. "Fuckin' great," Ai said. "This is the kind of week I'm having. Okay, reincarnated goat, I know about angels. Let's get to the destiny part before I wake up from this."
Finding herself getting jostled by the stampeding diners and trying to keep Hoody on the floor, Aldebaran turned to the senshi in spike heels and said, "Not to be rude, but who the absolute hell are you?"
Armers scanned the restaurant, which had suddenly erupted and emptied itself of its contents rather fully, except for herself, the two oddly-dressed senshi before her, her goat, Hoody, and the hostess behind the counter. Marcel had obviously gone somewhere safer, which was probably the only thing she had really counted on to happen. She felt it was fairly safe to perform her practiced speech, and put one hand on her hip, shifted her weight onto her right foot, and took a breath.
"I am Armers, resolver of enchantment, solver of sorceries, arrester of human woe, and I shall not stand by and watch thy actions hurt those around ye--" she paused, thinking maybe that was too biblical, but it sounded so good in the bathroom mirror, so she continued unfettered - "--for tranquility is my goal, and until thou art no longer causing such stirs, yea, I shall be there." Definitely too biblical. She'd have to consult the goat.
Aldebaran blinked this time. "'Such stirs'," she echoed, deciding she liked the phrase but was better off not saying so. "M'kay, then. Nice to meet you. How about if you help us tie this idiot up, 'cause I'm pretty sure the one outside has already taken off. And I don't wanna talk to the cops in this outfit."
Armers blinked in her turn, shaking her head slightly as though to get something off of it. Looking up at Aldebaran after a moment, she asked, "Isn't something supposed to happen? Aren't we supposed to be... um...?" She paused again, to think about something Aldegundis had said about 'opposition', and how, most likely, these people were -not- on her side. However, she also didn't want to get her face rearranged or have to put up with trying to mess someone else's face up, when her idea of Maximum Violence Quotient was spraying antibacterial everywhere. So many things were going around in her head; she could hardly get a solid grip on any of them.
"Aren't we..." she began again, and checked herself. "...never mind. First, let's please take care of this fellow, and then we can sort things out. I guess."
"Enemies?" Aldebaran said, keeping her attention on the struggling young man underneath her boot while she used a couple of cloth napkins to tie his hands behind his back. "That again. Sometimes I think us girls should just stick together. And I think I hear sirens, so I suggest we both get the hell on out of here."
"Okay," said Aldegundis, gaining enough confidence to push her machine-gun stutter down a notch. "You are Kokabel, Grigori senshi of c-constellations... the 'Grigori' bit b-basically indicates that the o-original K-Kokabel had p-problems with the m-management up there," she murmured, nodding upward, trying to indicate Heaven, knowing full well that the Grigori weren't exactly the most publicized of the angels, "and I'd assume she'd hope y-you'll also work with th-that mindset."
Coughing lightly, trying to find herself, the little bearded goat moved quite closely and secretively toward Ai, and whispered, "If you want to skip th-the technicalities, just say 'Kokabel Grigori Power, Make Up', and we c-can move on from th-there, okay?"
"What the hell is 'Kokabel Grigori Power, Make-Up' supposed to mean?" Ai said with a laugh, and then the day got even stranger when a yellow poncho came flying out of nowhere and settled over her head. At first she was afraid the robber was at it again, and the sparks that started flying everywhere meant the place was on fire. Before she could struggle, chains looped into place without restraining her, and she was dressed in someone else's clothes. And really, really up for a fight.
She jumped up to look at herself, chains tinkling merrily, and a stream of shocked Vietnamese cursing tumbled out. "You better have something else to say, goat," she said as she glanced across the counter. Her eyes lit on Armers and Aldebaran, and she shouted, "This is MY corner, bitches!"
Aldebaran straightened abruptly, reaching for her key and leveling it in the yellow-clad senshi's direction. "Hell, no. That's my cue to exit stage left," she said. "More than one of you is more than enough, and it's my night off. Later, kids!"
She winked at Sombrero and phased backwards through the wall, out onto the sidewalk. She ducked into the alleyway, intending to de-transform and go around the block the long way to come back for her car. She hoped Sombrero knew enough to do the same.
Sombrero knew more than enough to do the same. Just as Aldebaran ducked out, he was on her heels. With the selective hearing that all teenagers possess, he casually tuned out the cowardice babble that was being spewed from the tiny mouth of the cricket in his pocket. "Turn back and fight, whippersnappers," croaked Clavius, one of his back legs waving vehemently toward the situation that the two Astronomia were walking away from. "Cowards!"
"Shut it," hissed Sombrero. Without another word, he closed his eyes and was replaced with his normal clothes. Bending at the waist, he scratched his fingers into his leg. Oi, he was sore. "Like she said. It is our night off. Last time I came out you made me lose my hair," he muttered to the cricket, glaring into the black eyes of his small companion. "And with this, Christ, I cannot wait for the television reports to discuss strange people in weird costumes. They'll remember me as the Mexican labor worker." He shoved his hand into his pocket, muffling the cricket as he turned to Aldebaran. "You okay?"
"Fine," Aldebaran said, and as she did there was a commotion near the front of the restaurant that included more screaming in Vietnamese and a flash of senshi colors. "Jesus, now what?"
Armers jumped back with a cry, squeezing her eyes shut. Even underneath her eyelids, all she could see were stars. "Um, hi. I'm kind of on /your/ side, here. Real pleasure," she said, acidly, but as calmly as she could make it in her current blinded state. Technically, she thought to herself, looking at Aldegundis in her peripheral vision, she, Armers, was the senior and the one supposed to be giving orders, but hey, who needs structure when you've got 'let's kill everyone and leave no structure behind'? "This is stupid," she muttered, in so low a voice only the goat at her side could hear her, and then, in a tired, deadpan voice, "I'm not going to fight you. That's -not- what I'm here for." She managed to blink enough stars out of her vision that she could see the blur of Kokabel opposite her.
"This, however," she said, pushing her fists forward so that they lay at chest level, "is. Cancellation Shroud!" Gray mist surrounded her fists, yellow sparks shooting through it, and she made a circle, one half with each fist. A floating ring was left, and it rose into the air above Armers' head, dissipating completely once there. How stupid she must think me now, Armers after-thought to herself, having an attack that doesn't seem to do anything.
Aldegundis trotted over to Kokabel, determined to at least give the girl something to go on before running away in abandoned fear. "N-now, let's b-be reasonable here -- you c-can't d-do anything if I d-don't t-tell you about it first, r-right? You're g-going to want t-to say..." she trailed off, her little goaty face going a little blank. "W-well, I c-can't rightly remem-- oh, th-there." She righted herself, bright little tic-afflicted eyes looking back up at Kokabel. "Your other p-power would be set off b-by the word 'Redshift'. G-give it a try... although, not h-here, b-because in Armers' Shroud, n-nothing will h-happen."
As she returned to Armers' side, the unfortunately-clad and still slightly dazed senshi glared at the goat, with something of 'what the fuck did you do -that- for, you goddamn idiot?' in her eyes, except with less swearing and more irritation. The goat gave a sheepish look and was then lifted up into Armers' thin arms. "Come on, then," said the girl, looking sidelong at Kokabel, "let's go find those people again, and -you- can beat up on them all -you- like, for free." Emphasis, of course, being on the words 'you'.
Kokabel jingled her chains a little, enjoying the faint chiming sound. Ah, the world was in trouble now. Some complete nutcase of a god out there somewhere had allowed a world where she could have powers and transform into something more than a tiny girl with a big mouth. "Sure," she said with a faint smile, advancing toward Armers and the now eye-level Aldegundis. She paused just long enough to land a booted kick square in the side of the now defunct robber, who yelled in surprise. She could hear a distant siren heading their way. "Dumbass," she told Hoody.
She paused just inches away from the goat, suddenly grabbing the hapless guardian around the neck in a tight hug before planting a kiss squarely on the goat's nose. "For the record, you're the best goat I ever met," she said in one of the very rare sincere moments of her life. "You ever need anything, you let me know. Leave this loser and come live at my house."
Then, without raising her eyes, she reached up and smacked Armers right in the forehead before running like a crazy person out the door. She wanted the idiot with the hat and the bitch with the key, and there was no way they'd gone far.
Kokabel ran into the street, ignoring the startled looks of passers-by who'd heard the noise of the robbery. Screw them, they were regular people! She darted her eyes around, looking for the other senshi. "Come on back out, whackadoos! You know you want a piece of this! Fuckin' cowards!"
"Jesus Christ," Aldebaran said from the alleyway, watching the display. "The woodwork is full of other teams tonight," she said to Haydn. "I'll bonk her in the head with my key, and you run off down the alley, and I'll come pick you up one block over. It's the least I
can do for almost running you over. Plus, I gotta get your number so we can stay in touch and you can let me meet this Universalis person."
The tiny black head of the cricket guardian poked out of the pocket of the young man. "Haydn Cyningesleah, you transform right now or I will make you patrol every night this week in that neighborhood where you lost your hair!" The look that crossed the face of the Welsh boy was nothing short of murderous.
"I can't let you go alone," croaked Haydn as he turned his emerald orbs into the corners of their sockets, looking up at Aldebaran. "Least I can do for almost giving you vehicular homicide."
And with that out his mouth, he transformed quietly into his form of Sombrero. One arm swung around his back to push his hat into position on his head. "I don't think tonight is our night to die, let's give them hell."
Sombrero never saw the look of grateful admiration that Aldebaran gave him. "Right," she said. "Hell it is, then." She stepped out of the alleyway to watch the tiny senshi, clad in yellow and blue, spin once in place and give the finger to a passing car. Her poncho lifted in the process. "She's got nothing on under that thing. That's new." She raised her voice and yelled, "You're flashing traffic, cutie!"
Kokabel spun toward the voice, staring openly at Sombrero and Aldebaran. "You idiots made a mess in there!" she shouted, pointing toward the entrance to the restaurant. Then she crouched into a mock Kung-fu pose, her hands in outstretched claws. "Now comes the pain."
Deciding not to laugh, Aldebaran spun her key vertically between her hands, then leveled it head-first at the Grigori. "Bring it, sunshine."
Spinning on one foot and flashing them again, Kokabel whispered "Redshift!" and then proceeded to run straight at the Astronomia.
Not realizing an illusion was in play, Aldebaran pulled her head back a little and said, "That dumbass is running away," and by the time she'd finished the last syllable, a flying kick had landed on her sternum and sent her sprawling on the asphalt. A length of chain
wrapped in a small fist swirled around in the momentum and took Sombrero's hat off his head.
"How you like me now, Twinkies?" Kokabel said with a laugh from the alleyway, balancing Sombrero's hat on her head. It looked ridiculous in combination with the rest of her outfit.
Aldebaran sat up, using the key to get back to her feet as the first police cruiser came across the facing intersection. "You better run," she said, "because we're comin' that way anyway." And she took off after the Grigori.
There were moments when Sombrero wished he held the sphere of `wiggerality`. If he was such, he could use the phrase `oh hell naw you din'it!` and not sound like an absolute tool. Such a description had worked its way into his facial features, nevertheless, as he stared toward the alleyway. Did that bitch just take his hat? There was a brief moment of hesitation as he realized just how the other had attacked. This did not bode well for him.
"You okay, Aldy?" His words were lost as his teammate sprinted toward their target. They so should have just got in their cars and drove home. Or, maybe if he had been hit by the car - he would not die in the alleyway today. She moved too fast. His fingers furled in a clench around his shirt hem as he tugged down on the dirty linen. "I rather like the show you're giving," replied Sombrero, his tone leering, as he arrived in the alleyway - and away from the flashing lights and sirens approaching the restaurants.
They reached the end of the alleyway, and at first Aldebaran had been so sure the little yellow dervish had gone right, but the light was fading and now there was no sign of her. Aldebaran used her key to poke around the corner in each direction, then stepped forward...
Right onto Sombrero's hat.
"Oh, I don't have a word dirty enough for this," Aldebaran said with a sigh. She picked the hat up, shook it out a bit, and handed it back to her cohort. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. I owe you dinner anyway. Let's get the hell -"
With a shriek, something sparkly descended on them, blinding them with an electric blue shower of incandescence. Whatever it was, it kicked hard with evil little feet, and something very like a chain momentarily caught in a part of Aldebaran's headgear. What followed was several moments of loud, high-pitched swearing in three languages, and possibly one no one had ever heard before. Aldebaran managed to hit something with her key, and she prayed it wasn't Sombrero, who had already received enough abuse from her that evening.
With nothing to see but blue sparkles, neither Astronomia had much to say about it when the figure that had assaulted them ran off howling with laughter and yelling insults.
Rubbing her eyes in a futile gesture to clear them, Aldebaran said, "Whatever that is we met tonight, I really hope I never see it again. I'll take Tyche over that, any day." She felt along the wall behind the building, dragging Sombrero behind her, headed back around toward her car the long way. Once she was sure they wouldn't be spotted, she detransformed with a sigh of relief. She was ready for this adventure to be over.
She unlocked her car and gestured for Haydn to get in. "Whaddaya say, you and me, crime busters from now on? Screw this senshi thing, we'll patrol for evildoers and get out asses kicked by little girls." With that, she drove him home.