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Magical Detective Ayase Yue; Someone had to write it
Topic Started: May 28 2012, 11:34 PM (1,778 Views)
rikalous
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Creature of the Deep

Only half a month between snippets this time. I'm improving.
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In the end, we decided on animal codenames. Torako was obviously Cat, Nodoka received Rabbit for her trademark long-eared backpack, I was dubbed Owl because of a mysterious quote-unquote “vibe” I was deemed to possess. Devising the plan took less time. Given that the warehouse in which Zodiac Inc stored its rock collection was by all appearances completely unguarded, the only plan we could make was “break in, hope the guard isn't some Negi-class threat on punishment detail, then figure things out from there.” At least Nodoka's telepathy should let us hear him, her, it, or them coming.

Unfortunately, telepathy is notably ineffective against a simple mechanical trap releasing knockout gas. Fortunately, I had a counterspell prepared for just such an eventuality, along with a few other possibilities. Plans may not survive contact with the enemy, but you can't go wrong with a dozen or two countermeasures for anything that might come up. The few seconds of dormancy before my little trick kicked in was enough time for the guard to appear. He was clearly a ninja, which explained why he hadn't been seen before. I needed to remember to ask Kaede about the conjunction between “master of stealth” and “immediately recognizable uniform” at some point. Someone who actually wanted to blend in would wear navy blue for nighttime, not all that black.

At the moment, our new friend and his not-especially-stealthy outfit were between me and the members of my little party who didn't have something prepared to deal with every status ailment short of Doom. That was going to complicate my efforts to get them back on their feet.

I leapt to my own feet with a roar of “Eat this!” and two blasts of the mystic equivalent of a shot of adrenaline spiked with tiger blood in quick succession. As I'd hoped, my opponent mistook my spells for attacks and dodged them, giving me free shots at my fallen comrades.

What I didn't consider was the possibility that the ninja's dodge would take him over my head where he'd perform some kind of pressure point trick on my neck leaving me paralyzed. Naturally, that's exactly what happened. Since sufficiently nasty paralysis can stop your lungs from pumping, I'd gone to some lengths to ensure that my countermeasure worked damn near immediately. It was still annoying, as fighting ninjas so often is.

Case in point, the way Mr. X went bounding off again before I could get a spell off on him (it was only damn near immediately) and had the nerve to split into a dozen or so duplicates while in the damn air, surrounding me as soon as they touched ground.

Eight-o'clock!” That was Nodoka, speaking very quickly and making me extraordinarily glad I'd taken the time to wake her up. Ninja-boy not being deaf, his real self booked it as I got my shot off. It seemed he'd had enough of jumping up and down, as he went left instead of up where I'd sent a blast of lightning to meet him. Not that he got very far before kissing the ground in a bloody-legged heap, a black-bladed knife that cut him landing alongside. Its twin flew off into the night to what would have been the ninja's right.

“Gotcha!” cried Torako as I wasted no time binding our fallen foe with arrows of wind, and then putting a quick heal on his legs before the poor thing bled to death. “Instant movement's only useful if I don't have an idea of where you're going.”

“Ah? Oh, I could only sense thinking from that one, not from any of the others. Now, let me find out what this guy knows.” Nodoka placed her hand on that guy's head and closed her eyes in concentration. After a moment she frowned. “That's odd. As far as he knows, the rock's being excavated for the fossils inside it. He keeps thinking of that Jurassic Park movie Ne- the teacher got all giddy over.”

“What about Anya?” I asked.

“He doesn't recognize the name.” A pause. “Or the face.” Another. “Or the voice.”

“Could he be using some ninja trick to beat your mind reading?”

“He wasn't good enough to hide the noise of his thinking. That's how I could tell the real him from the clones.”

“Maybe a Trojan horse maneuver? Letting himself get captured so he could trick us?”

“Something to consider,” said Torako, blandly, as she looked up from gathering her weapons. “Let's go smash all the rocks in the warehouse while we think it over.”

“Right, right, that'd be a dumb plan,” I replied. “Rabbit, what's he know about 'Aries?'”

“He just started thinking of the war god. Which, um, is there any actual reason to think that isn't what it is?”

Torako dropped her blades. “Oh no. Oh no. Ares. Mars. That's what you call the planet where the Magic World is. Oh please let me be wrong.”

“Talking about the Magic World just confuses him,” said Nodoka. “I really think we've been off on the wrong track. Ares, the war god...'Aegis Kai Doru' means 'Shield and Sword.' Yep, he says Cheiron and Zodiac have been competitors for a long time, but Aegis Kai Doru came out of nowhere just a couple years ago. Man, we screwed up. Er, it seems he'd love to just forget about us, as long as we go and bother some other company.”

I started lightly thumping my head against the warehouse walls. “Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Sir, I am very sorry for the inconvenience and the knifing. Let me just cancel the binding spell and we'll leave and you'll never have to see us again.” Usually I could at least start putting a plan into effect before things go catastrophically wrong.
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rikalous
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One step forward, two steps back on getting this thing out on a reasonable schedule.
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In Which There is an Emotional Reunion

Since we had no better plan and we were in the neighborhood anyway, we decided to go knock on the Aegis Kai Doru warehouse. Nodoka did the honors, for some reason saying "Little pig, little pig, let me in."

Torako and I exchanged confused looks which utterly failed to abate when a familiar voice responded "I guess I better, since I've got no hairs on my chinny-chin-chin."

And then who opened the door but Anya, looking happy as a dragon with a new princess and completely unharmed. That was definitely a Bad Sign. Such easy wins always are. "Hey Nodoka!" she said. "Still with the bunny backpack, I see. And you must be Yue, by the staff. Heh, you, Yue. Who's your friend? And why are you all wearing ski masks?"

"They keep our heads warm. You lose most of your body heat through your head, you know," said Torako as she shed her headgear. Nodoka and I followed suit. "I'm Torako, by the way, although I went by Koyomi when we met last. Sorry about the whole kidnapping thing, by the way."

"Nah, we're cool. As long as the maid dress wasn't your idea."

Torako turned quite an interesting shade of red. "N-no. Gah, I forgot about that. It was Tamaki's idea, I swear."

"Well that's all right then. Come in, everyone. It's more comfortable than you'd expect."

A small part of my brain resolved to tease Torako about the maid dress thing later. Most of it had been furiously occupied since Anya showed with trying to come up with a way for one of us to stay behind in case - oh who was I kidding because it was a trap. Anya had already seen that all three of us were present, and she was far too calm about Torako for us to leave her outside so as to not frighten her, and...

"Sounds great! Let's go, ladies!" chirped Nodoka, grabbing us each by an arm. I sent Haruna a text saying where we went while her attention was on Torako. Let's spring this trap.

You're a genius, I replied.

I'm a dungeoneer. You always always always make sure someone outside knows where you're diving, through whatever means you have. She got another one before we hit the other warehouse.

When Anya claimed that the warehouse would contain more than the expected comforts, I'd assumed that meant there would be more inside in the way of furniture than a ratty blanket on the floor next to a stack of those military meals Mana called MREs. Well, someone might be able to use one of the stone blocks as a chair, but given their size it'd be an awkward clamber. Apparently Anya thought our expectations were remarkably pessimistic. Then again, one of the people she was talking to was me.

Nodoka tsked. "You'd think a bigshot organization could spare a little money for some accomodations to keep their guards in top shape."

Anya slammed the door behind herself unnecessarily loudly. "The glory of serving Ares far outweighs some meager luxuries." Glowing protective charms flared into being along the walls and ceiling. From the looks of things, the building could serve as a creditable bomb shelter. Blasting out through the wall was not on the table.

We turned around, and sure enough the redhead had the glassy-eyed stare of a true believer. "It's not about luxuries," said Nodoka. "It's about efficiency. A futon costs a lot less than a guard that gets beaten because they're sore from sleeping on the ground."

Anya sneered. "We little need such meager advantages. How could we, with such blind fools as you as our only opponents? Look how blindly you wandered into my trap!"

"For the love of Kant, woman, get some synonyms," I said. "Here, I'll spot you paltry, pitiful, and scant for meager, and I'm not even a native speaker. Can you think of something better than calling us blind again? Oh yeah, and we knew it was a trap. We're just good at escaping that sort of thing."

I guess she didn't appreciate my advice. Some people are really sensitive about that sort of thing. "Worms! Dogs! Kneel before me and submit to the glory of Ares or your charred and petrified corpses will be delivered to Arika's treacherous bastard for him and the rest of his filthy mudborn whores to weep over!"

Now, Ala Alba is nothing if not contentious, and insults flying between members is nothing to make a fuss over. I heard worse every time Asuna and Ayaka had to spend thirty consecutive seconds in the same room. Heck, Anya herself had let loose some serious vitriol directed at the more buxom members of the class without any repercussions. This frothing cultist before me? She was not the Anya we knew. She was not one of us. She was not allowed to speak that way about my friends, and nor was whoever had brainwashed her. For the moment the fury choked off all my words, but the low, inhuman growl emanating from Nodoka spoke for us both.

The less-affected Torako just snorted and drew her long knives. "Seven years ago, me and half a dozen others took on an entire world and only lost because the boss switched sides on us. You really think I'd surrender to you because, what, you outnumber us one to three?"
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Good one.
I AM THE OVERLORD OF ALL CRACK!!!!!!
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rikalous
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:D Once again, I tell myself I need to write more. Once again, I then look at the clock and at the stuff I still need to get done and remember why I don't.
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rikalous
Feb 13 2013, 11:40 PM
I'm a dungeoneer. You always always always make sure someone outside knows where you're diving, through whatever means you have. She got another one before we hit the other warehouse.

<looking at OM> A sound and clever policy, which I'm sure any Nodoka would follow.
"Hello! I'm Rurin, the Magical Mouse! My favorite food is cheese! My favorite pastimes are tormenting cats and facilitating romance! I have the power to bind the souls of guys who mistreat women to the depths of hell and subject them to everlasting karmic suffering! Isn't that cute? Pleased to meet you!" -- Rurin, the Magical Mouse, Magical Patissiere Kosaki-chan.
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Anya signaled her disapproval of the catgirl's attitude with a fireball. Torako dodged around a stone block that the flame dissipated harmlessly against, and the battle was officially joined.

I returned fire with some wind, which Anya dodged annoyingly easily. Air is supposed to be hard to see, for crying out loud, even when it's moving. The exchange continued for a few more volleys, her evading so casually it looked like I just had bad aim, while I had avoided her strikes by dint of actual effort. Such battles of attrition are generally losing propositions for me against mages with rather lower magic reserves than a Meridiana graduate, but it worked great as a distraction to allow Nodoka to sneak around Anya's back with her silent steps and cold-cock the squishy caster, as Eva would say.

Well, except for the part where Anya spun around and set Nodoka aflame just before she struck. Nodoka's reinforcement magic meant that sort of thing wasn't nearly as fatal as one would expect, but I figured it would be best to try and end things quickly just in case. I unleashed a barrage of homing lightning arrows, angled to hit from above so that the fire mage couldn't dodge and let the arrows hit my friend. She could still jump back and drag Nodoka into their path, though. I managed to send the magic missiles jolting back, which actually made Anya jump a little and release her hostage. I'd have considered the whole thing a wash if it weren't for the energy I'd expended.

The expected return shot wasn't directed at me, but off to my left where it sent Torako yelping and dodging back behind her stone shield. That clinched it. Anya was reacting to things she had no business being able to react to.

"'Nodoka! Can you disrupt her telepathy?'"she suddenly yelled, mockingly, taking the words right out of my mouth. "Because of course that's what the professional fortune-teller is using to see attacks coming."

Well sure, when she put it that way. See, telepathy is what I'm most used to seeing used for such things. It's what my best friend specializes in. Of course it was the first thing I'd think of in the heat of battle, and the smug brat could shut right up.

In any case, Nodoka appeared to have come to same conclusion regarding the likely result of continued strife against a precognitive pyromaniac that I had, judging by the way we both bolted for Torako's rock. Naturally, Anya sent great gouts of fire into each of our paths, but with her Cantus Bellax and my flying staff we were both able to avoid any serious harm. Our success at that endeavor had the gears in my brain spinning, but Nodoka proved hers had already finished when she grabbed Torako and me and initiated the mind-to-mind council of war.

She can't predict reactions to her own actions! When you moved those homing arro-

-ws so they wouldn't hit Nodoka, Anya couldn't see where I'd move them. She couldn't see how we'd dodge her own attacks, either. Of course. Before the telepath could finish her explanation, though, Torako had broken the connection and gone around the side of the block.

"Wait! Wait!" she called. "I give up. You're too powerful. I know the winning side when I see it." Her blades clattered to the floor. Peeking around the side, I could see her walking slowly toward a smirking Anya, hands held behind her head. Anya was cooing about the rewards of prudence and loyalty as the catgirl came closer, now within arms' reach. I almost missed the blur of Torako swinging her fist toward the witch, but I couldn't miss the flame she answered with, or the explosion that slammed both of them to the ground.

Nodoka and I rushed to the sides of the two fallen girls. Neither showed any inclination to get up at the moment. Anya was a traditional mage, without a mage knight's ability to take a pounding, and Torako, Torako had been weakened until the Powers That Be decided she couldn't be a threat, oh why had I let her come in the first place? It was clear that the damage to the catgirl would need a far better healer than me. All I could do was grip her hand, the unburnt one with the full complement of fingers.

"You were right," she grinned. "Those flares you gave me do pack a wallop."

"If you'd waited for ten seconds, we could have come up with a plan that didn't involve you punching a fire mage with an improvised bomb. Or breaking a surrender, like some kind of terrorist."

"Hey, she started it when she invited us into a trap! And I can't trust you pampered schoolgirls to come up with a decent battle plan."

"Right," said Nodoka, who'd just finished tying up an underage girl. "Looks like we'll have to get Konoka to heal you both, and then I should be able to dig the crazy out of Anya's brain, no problem."

"Run program: Maenad," said Anya in an affectless voice. Then she screamed and thrashed, as sigils I couldn't identify (not a common occurrence) appeared on her skin. The screaming only lasted a moment before shifting into something more guttural, and the thrashing ripped through the rope binding her. Before any of us could react, the no-longer-frail girl had swung her left hand into Nodoka and her right into me, sending us flying with rib-breaking force.

Problem.

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The cracking of my ribs aside, being flung across a warehouse filled with unyielding monoliths was but a minor inconvenience, given that I held on to my staff and its cushioning safe-flying spells. I'm not entirely sure how Nodoka managed to avoid performing an impression of a squirrel meeting a windshield, but I understand it wasn't her first experience with suddenly falling sideways.

Actually, this was one of the rare cases where not being punched across the room was the path of greatest danger. After all, the unpunched Torako was the only one in the room still in range of the fists Anya was ready to bring down on the catgirl's defenseless, injured body.

One of the side effects of the safety mechanisms on flying staffs prevents the reckless user from going "too fast," i.e. fast enough to traverse the length the warehouse before Anya landed an unfairly hammerlike blow on my downed comrade. Overriding that little feature is quite illegal, and in some locales officially considered impossible. Now I figure those laws were put in place to protect the terminally impetuous, so rescuing Torako perfectly adhered to the spirit of the rules.

My unlawful velocity left me with a bloody nose, a pair of blackening eyes, and a bone-deep satisfaction when I shoulder-checked Anya. Her flesh felt as adamant as the rocks behind me, but I did knock her a step back. That reminded me that even mages and ninjas and every other damn thing can only cheat Newton so much. Anya might be stronger than she had any right to be, but she shouldn't be any heavier. In the spirit of scientific enquiry, I resolved to test this hypothesis by sending her upwards via an Axe of Lightning. If I'd been thinking just a little faster, I would have held back my power just enough to avoid launching her all the way to the ceiling, where she would have a platform to leap off of back down to me. As it happened, I came to that particular realization just in time to dodge her downwards charge. Well, mostly. Instead of crushing my skull and torso, and all my very favorite organs held within, she merely landed on and broke my staff arm in two places.

As I rather loudly and incoherently expressed my dissatisfaction with the resulting sensations, and Anya turned to no doubt offer me sweet release from mortal pains, my hand closed on the fortune-teller's discarded wand. I whipped it up to send an arrow of wind right down the maniac's throat. Students of wind magic learn early on, and usually forget as useless trivia, that it is a fairly simple matter to alter the gas composition of summoned air. For instance, one may cast wind spells using air completely devoid of oxygen, but one usually has rather more effective options available than blocking off ones opponent's breathing with such a spell.

My little trick bought me a few moments as Anya clawed at her own throat, but she then noticed the wand's proximity to her teeth and decided the most effective solution was to bite the offending focus in half, along with several of my fingers. I was saved the trouble of figuring out what in the name of every deity ever conceived of my plan I-don't-even-know-what-letter would be by the extraordinarily timely arrival of dear, sweet, precious Nodoka and her knack with mind magic. All it took was a moment or two of her hands on either side of Anya's head and the redhead was dead to the world. I'd have gladly imitated her if my nervous system weren't so intent on informing me that yes, I was still badly injured. Gee, thanks. I had no idea.

I felt Torako's undamaged hand grip mine, and looked over to see her smiling at me. Well. Perhaps there were worse ways to spend the time, at that.
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I spend entirely too much time in hospital beds, considering all the skillful magical healers I surround myself with. And yet when I tried to make the most of it and enjoy a decent sleep for once, Miss Konoe I’m-so-sweet-and-innocent-tee-hee Konoka felt the most logical course of action was to start tickling my feet.

“I see your reflexes are doing fine,” chirped the she-devil herself over my flurry of sleep-slurred, bilingual invective. “How are your fingers feeling?”

I cycled through all the impolite gestures I knew how to do with one hand. “About normal for being freshly regenerated.”

“This happen to you a lot?” asked Torako from the next bed, doing her less obscene finger exercises.

“Not since the Ariadne final exams, but they’re some vivid memories. Konoka, I’m assuming that since you woke us up you’ve got some news to share?”

“Of course,” the healer replied. “Now this Aegis Kai Doru, ah, do either of you know very much about finance?” I know that money is nice and mostly happens to other people. Judging from Torako’s expression when we shared a glance, either she knew about as much or some wicked painkillers had just kicked in. “I’ll take that as a no. The short version is, a lot of the resources it’s drawing on come from Mars, which isn’t supposed to have anyone on it, so it isn’t coming legally. Once our people bring the company to the powers that be, they should dismantle it in short order, and they won’t really care if some random warehouse got broken into. So congratulations.

“Anya’s case is more of a good news, bad news, thing. The good news is that she’s alive and sane and talking and should make a full recovery. The bad news is that the full recovery is going to take a while. That maenad thing….”

“If she’s talking, I’ve got some questions for her,” I said, moving to get out of bed.

“Oh, she’s sleeping right now.” Oh really? You let people sleep now? What a fascinating idea. “She did say that these Ares people are after a Mars for Martians, meaning people whose ancestors were created by the Lifemaker. Not exactly fond of Arika marrying someone from Earth.”

“Wonderful,” said Torako, suddenly sounding bitter as wormwood and older than she had any right to be. “Another reason for people to hate and kill each other. I mean, we were running out. Pretty soon we were going to have to start a war over whether vanilla or chocolate ice cream is better.”

It struck me that we’d never exactly spoken about her past. I leaned over the divide between the beds to put a hand on her shoulder. “If they’re bigots, that means that they’ve got a blind spot for us to exploit. Not that we really need the help. We’ll rescue the people they’ve taken, protect the people they target, and heal the people they’ve hurt. That’s what Ala Alba does, and you’re just a pin short of membership by this point anyway.” I turned to get confirmation from Konoka, but she seemed to have slipped out, leaving the two of us alone. That was a little odd.

“And here I was expecting you to tell me that getting blown up proves I’m out of my depth here and should leave the heroing to the schoolgirls.”

“Ha ha, no. Negi used to try that all the time when we actually were schoolgirls and nobody ever even considered listening. That reminds me, if we’re going to be working together, and I’d like to, you having the artifact from a pactio would come in hand-”

And then Torako was kissing me, and my train of thought was quite thoroughly drowned out by an angelic chorus. The beatific, androgynous kind of angels, not the burning wheels covered in eyes. I did manage to remember my own name, though. After a disappointingly short time, she drew back and raised an expectant eyebrow.

“See, you actually have to do it in a magic circle or it doesn’t work,” I said, bland as dry toast.

She gave a haughty sniff. “Well, yeah. I just had to be sure the artifact would be worth it.”

“Picky, picky. In my day, you made the contract first chance you got, if you had to make out with a ten-year-old to do it. I guess schoolgirls are more pragmatic than terrorists.” That got me bopped with a pillow.

“Go back to sleep. I demand more beauty sleep from you if we’re going to do this for real. A gal’s gotta have standards.” How could I refuse such a sweetly-worded request?
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I flexed my fingers, gratified to find them at last feeling as if they'd never been severed by the teeth of a berserk fortune-teller. For all the power of magic and technology, I've never yet heard of a healer who can regrow that much tissue without leaving behind odd sensations for weeks. Anya's recovery was taking a mite longer, but she was safe in the care of the finest healers Negi's not inconsiderable influence could provide. Zodiac Inc., her brief employer, had been demonstrated to exist more on paper than in fact through some arcane process I don't pretend to understand or care about, although all the big fish had scarpered and were being hunted down by those with a rather wider focus than my little hometown-hung shingle. All in all, my life had settled back into its comfortable routine, which tonight meant I had an assault victim to take a gander at.

The degree to which I was accustomed to being handed cases of students on the down end of a beatdown says quite a bit about Mahora, if not necessarily the bit an outsider would hear. For your meek and mild member of the common herd, I dare say our school's safer than most. Fights take place between the strong, because attacking the weak just gets you a fight with their stronger clubmate anyway, so you might as well go straight for the badass and fight at a time and place of your choosing. Still, the Powers What Are do not officially condone violence as a problem-solving method among the students, and when nobody else feels like doing the legwork they tap me to mark the targets for the hammer of justice. It's rarely particularly interesting or challenging work, but in my line of business that tends to be a plus.

I was trying to explain all this to Torako, who still seemed to consider Mahora essentially an upscale warzone, when we reached the nurse's office, where our vic would be stored until whoever was currently on duty decided they'd been fussed over enough. In the general course of things that would be the nurse, but the woman was only human and at this time of night she'd be off having some sort of non-career-related life while her station was manned by some particularly dedicated Health Club member.

Right now the member in question was Kamiya Kirino, dressed in a camouflage-patterned nurse's uniform. Her dark green hair was military short and her eyes burned like a junkie's cigarette. “Ms. Ayase!” she barked, coming to an attention marred only by the fact that she seemed to be vibrating, “Regret to inform you that patient remains unconscious from injuries and unable to provide information!”

I'm convinced. This is a safe place and the students are in good hands, Torako, dry as a salt lick, sent over our pactio connection. My intention in making her my ministra had been more to preserve her rather fragile physical shell than to enhance her ability to editorialize, but our jobs together had been quiet so far. Not too quiet, as every phantom sensation in my regrown fingers had reminded me. Just quiet enough.

I ignored my partner's sarcasm. I am, after all, a professional. I nodded acknowledgement of Kamiya's report and stepped over to take a gander at the current convalescent, sipping from a can of durian juice as I did so. From the bits I could see, Sleeping Beauty looked to be formed mainly of bruise. Probably a noncombatant, to have been taken down that hard without a foe laid out beside them. The perp better pray I got to them before the vic's club champion. I'd just deliver them to the faculty, who had lines they weren't allowed to cross. Fortunately, I had a way to get some answers from our injured friend. Ethically, even. Among the potions I'd brought was a mixture of a little bit of wake-up juice and a whole lot of painkillers, brewed for just such an occasion. I carefully opened up Jane Doe's mouth and dribbled a little bit of into her mouth. She stirred, her puffy eyes fluttering open.

"Don't worry," I said. "You'll just need to be up a moment. Do you remember who left you beat up like this?"

"No idea," she murmured drowsily, because of course it couldn't be easy. "Felt something hit the back of my head, then woke up here." Since I could see from here she'd been hit worse from the front than falling over would do...had the perp kept whaling on her post-unconsciousness?

"All right then. Can you tell me your name? And your club?"

"Koyama Mari." She yawned hugely, and gave me just two more words before Morpheus claimed her once more: "Beautification Club."

My mouthful of durian juice suddenly took a detour down my breathing parts. Kamiya spluttered in disbelief as Torako clapped me on the back. "What," the only non-Mahora girl asked in bemusement, "do they have nameless Things anathema to reality picking up litter for them?"

Kamiya answered, since I was preoccupied trying to remember that air went to lungs and juice went to stomach. "No, that's more Astronomy Club. Uh, sir. Beautification Club doesn't have anything. They just don't fight. This is...this...." Words failed her, and she was reduced to explaining through vague and expansive hand gestures.

"Attacking a member of the Beautification Club is like boxing a soup kitchen volunteer with brittle bones and their hands tied behind their back. And fouling." One of the fringe benefits of detective work is that it makes you good at pulling out similes at short notice. "They're protected not by their own strength but by the fact that anyone who messes with them will be regularly getting their ass kicked on general principle until they graduate. This is, quite simply, unprecedented." I gave Kamiya my best penetrating gaze. "I'm going to have to ask you to keep this completely under wraps until I know what's going on. Someone starts asking you questions and you can't think of a good lie, you don't know anything. Understand?"

Kamiya made a salute that could have taken my eye out if I'd been closer. "You have my word. Whatever it takes to bring this fiend to justice."

I returned the salute. Kamiya might be a touch odd in the brainpan, but she was good people. That put her a solid step above some of the people I was going to have to palaver with to get this done.
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W00t!

You could always just make it a sticky. You ARE a mod and the administra(i)tor in this forum is notoriously lazy.
rikalous wrote
 
Yes I am. I said I would, and I hate going back on my word. IANCE, you pustulating whoreson, I am going to find you when this is over. They will make a torture porn movie about your death, and they will have to tone it down to maintain suspension of disbelief.

Shadow Crystal Mage wrote
 
There there. Go do evil things in the name of the government to feel better.


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rikalous
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Why would I sticky it? If I'm updating at a decent pace it'll stay on the front page on its own. If I don't, there's no point.
Let's Watch Nanoha
Wits, magic, and hardboiled monologues.
My other claims to fame.
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IAmNotCreativeEnough
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Has Problems Giving A Shit

The administra(i)tor is notoriously lazy. Looking for answers to that question would require he put in effort. Therefore, he does not.
rikalous wrote
 
Yes I am. I said I would, and I hate going back on my word. IANCE, you pustulating whoreson, I am going to find you when this is over. They will make a torture porn movie about your death, and they will have to tone it down to maintain suspension of disbelief.

Shadow Crystal Mage wrote
 
There there. Go do evil things in the name of the government to feel better.


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rikalous
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Since my employers didn't appreciate me pulling random students out of class to be suspicious at, I whiled away the hours until school let out drawing up a list of the least unlikely people I could think of to have attacked a Beautification Club member. I made sure I would have plenty of time to think by attacking the astrophysics book that would be my eventual gateway to work in space. It had long been my observation that attempting to study produced a time dilation effect that could make minutes take hours, the effect being reversed if there was a test the next day. Those principles had to be the key to Chao's time travel technology, I was certain of it.

When class let out later that day, after a span of roughly two weeks, Ito Chidori was my first target. The Cheerleading Club president was a compact thing with big blue eyes, pink pigtails, and a fuse small enough to be subject to Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle where her chosen sport was concerned. She'd first come to my attention after Barahime of the Boxing Club and Hanagata of the Hockey Club had clumsily ran into her tiny fists a remarkable number of times after being less than respectful of the noble and strenuous art of cheer in her presence. The thing was, she'd never done as much damage to those who invoked her ire as Koyama had evinced, even when they actually had the chops to resist. Sure enough, she showed no recognition of a pre-beating picture of the vic I'd acquired. Ito didn't have that kind of emotional control. Dead end.

Osawa Tsutomo came next. Like many luminaries of Mahora's tech clubs, the underfed, hollow-eyed bioengineer was known to have the occasional lapse where it came to keeping his creations in the lab and under control. Unlike the others, he was prone to incorrectly assume he could handle it himself until matters had moved well past the crisis point. I don't understand why anyone would try the “I am your creator, you were created to serve me, obey my commands, and crush my enemies” speech twice, given how well it generally works the first time, but Osawa never seemed to learn. On the other hand, the lack of any devastation other than that to Koyama was most uncharacteristic of his escapees. Plus, as I swiftly determined, he'd been preoccupied for weeks with something called “floss crabs” that were too small and delicate to do the damage I'd seen on Koyama. Another deceased conclusion.

Lucky number three was the Drama Club's Katsura triplets, Rei, Rie, and Rio. Evidently, they were born to parents with a very limited concept of what constituted a proper name.

So how exactly do these three act their enemies into the hospital? queried my faithful if bemused companion on the way to where I'd been assured the trio could be found.

Mainly by going “hey Chiwa” and letting her take care of it, I replied. And before you ask, it wasn't her. She's a doppelganger, so she's very strict about making sure someone in authority knows exactly where she is at all times. That way she doesn't have to worry about getting blamed for disguising herself as whoever's most recently transgressed.

What about when she gets in fights, does she just go and tell a teacher she beat someone up?

You have no idea how much the faculty loves her for that. In any case, they aren't much inclined to violence. “We are here,” I called out now that I was in ear- and eyeshot of my quarry, “because there is a secret here, and the time has come for it to be secret no more!”

Rie opened her mouth to no doubt assure me that all three were so open and transparent they regularly had birds run into them, but I forestalled her by holding up a finger. “See, I took the trouble to get good looks at these three until I could tell them apart from one another. No twin impersonation shenanigans will succeed on my watch. While so engaged, I noticed some reactions curiously similar to those of people who are hiding something from those whose job it is to uncover the hidden. Some get nervous and jumpy, like Rio to your left. Others, like Rei over there, get more calm and confident than any innocent, because they're certain they've covered their tracks.”

“This is ridiculous!” cried Rie with precisely the mix of fear of authority and indignity at its ill-use the unjustly accused would have. “Being jumpy is suspicious, being calm is suspicious, that's just how my sisters are!”

I nodded in response, then let out the loudest chicken noise I could, making Rio, Rei, and Torako all jump slightly and look confusedly at this madwoman in their midst. Rie joined in the staring after a brief moment, which was plenty long enough for me. “And some,” I said, “are very good at acting like an innocent would, but get so focused on keeping the mask up that they can't react naturally to surprises.” I bared my teeth in smile-like fashion.

“Did you never have secrets at our age?” Give the girl credit, she didn't fold easily.

“Maybe one or two. But this is a dark hour, when secrets become suspect.”

“Does she hear herself talk?” Rie asked Torako.

“I think it's supposed to be intimidating,” she replied.

“The point stands,” I said, trying to get things back on track. One of the people present was well aware I'd helped save her world. You'd expect that to produce a modicum of respect, if you were quite naïve.

“What's this big crisis, then?” asked Rie, folding her arms and raising an unintimidated eyebrow.

“There's been an attack,” I said, trying to watch all three faces at once. “On a Beautification Club member.” Three identical expressions of shock and horror greeted me, like someone who'd found a corpse in a hall of mirrors. “And with the suspicious behav-”

“I'm a guy,” said Rei.

“-vviioorrr...Wait what.”

“I'm a guy,” Rei repeated, missing the actual point of my question-like statement. “That's the secret. We are not three identical triplet sisters, we are two identical twin sisters and a fraternal twin brother and yes I know the odds against are simply astronomical but, hey, so are the odds against winning the lottery and someone always does.” I'd gotten back enough presence of mind by the end of this to note that the general air among her, rather his, sisters had been “Damn, Rei's admitting it,” than “What on earth is Rei talking about I mean oh yes that is absolutely true” throughout. Which was nice, because the only methodology presenting itself to me to determine the veracity of Rei's claim was not one I was particularly sanguine about performing on a student, especially with Torako present and observing.

“You realize I'm going to have to check that,” said Torako.

Rei's face assumed the cast of one promising to hold the line as long as possible, Rio's that of one attempting to percolate through the ground by sheer force of desire to be elsewhere. Rie smiled with a knife-edge that made me wonder if Chizuru gave lessons. “It's a great pity that statements such as 'over my dead body' are considered overused these days.”

“Wha- gah! No!” Torako explained. “N-not that! Not that at all!” she clarified. She took a deep breath and let some of the blood flow out of her face. “Look. You're aware that there are people with abilities beyond normal humanity, right? Given how terrible this school seems to be at keeping it under wraps.”

“The only people who don't know about magic by this point are some of the techies, who think it's all science in disguise, and Misato, who might just be messing with everybody,” said Rie.

“Right then.” Torako let her cat ears appear. “I myself have keen senses. So keen, in fact, that if I get impolitely close I can smell whether someone is male or female.” If her nose was that sensitive in her less furry form, I thought I might need to be a bit more scrupulous about keeping things cleaned up.

“If it'll get this conversation over with,” Rei spoke for us all. Torako gave him a quick but thorough sniffing and pronounced his scent suitably male.

“Which raises the question,” she continued, “Of why, in the name of everything, does there have to be this whole conspiracy?”

“He's family!” snapped Rie. “We're not going to be separated just because our middle school won't take boys!”

“There's a boy's school on this very island! I have seen boy students your age! I have seen boys and girls in the same club! Is there something in the drinking fountains here? Why is everyone on this island out of their damn minds?” Torako looked like she was about to cry from sheer frustration.

“Now maybe family doesn't mean anyt-” At this point Rie was distracted from her angry retort by the business end of my staff suddenly poking her in the nose.

“I think you wanted to stop talking about half a sentence back,” I said, very calmly. It was gratifying how seriously she was taking the moon-topped stick leveled at her. We really had come a long way from the CG Excuse. “So let's all agree that that's what you did. Right, Torako? Torako?”

My partner slowly returned her knives to their sheathes and unclenched her fingers. “Yeah. Sure. We're done here.” She strode off without waiting for me to follow.
Let's Watch Nanoha
Wits, magic, and hardboiled monologues.
My other claims to fame.
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rikalous
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While my education has been thorough, and was eventually attended to with diligence, comforting ones girlfriend after she has had an unpleasant reminder of childhood trauma is a subject entirely absent from the standard curricula of either Mahora or Ariadne. Perhaps it was in an elective I missed. Still, one picks up a trick or two over the years.

“That was certainly an exciting waste of time, but now I find myself in need of nourishment,” I said. “Would you care to head over to the Chao Bao Zi with me?”

She nodded, to my relief. While not quite what is was when Satsuki helmed it, the eatery's wares could still serve as an all-purpose balm to troubled souls. Torako remained silent until our meal arrived, and only picked at it when it did. I tried for a safe conversation topic. “I had no idea your olfactory abilities were so strong in your current body. I'll have to make some adjustments to our living quarters.”

“What? Oh, that. I just made that up to see if they thought they had anything to fear from it. I didn't use to be sneaky like that, you know. You're a bad influence on me.”

“Next thing you know I'll corrupt you into committing acts of terrorism.”

“I thought I saw your schoolgirl face on those wanted posters.” The familiar snipes had evidently done their job relaxing her. At least, she was now smiling and actually seeming to enjoy her repast.

As was generally the case with Satsuki's recipes, by the conclusion of our meal the world had become a brighter, more welcoming place than when we'd sat down. Which brightness dimmed a bit when a shadow fell upon be, cast by none other than Kitsu Megumi, the current manager. Oh dear. The day had left me in no mood for this.

Kitsu was dressed, as ever, in an artfully rumpled suit accented by a pair of sunglasses and the edge of a dragon tattoo peeking out at her collar. I knew the tattoo was temporary, and reapplied every morning. All who were aware of the tattoo were fully cognizant of its transient nature, but few dared speak of it. The unspoken consensus was that pressing Kitsu too hard on her pretenses would lead to her severing a finger digit or two in an attempt to bolster the illusion.

“Ah, Ms. Ayase. Always a pleasure to have your distinguished patronage.” Kitsu was smiling. She always smiled around me. It was roughly as convincing as an indifferently carved pumpkin.

“Thank you, Ms. Kitsu. I can't imagine why the manager herself might need to come over and mention it over a little thing like a meal I'm going to be paying full price for because I know you're not stupid enough to try bribing me again.” I wasn't smiling. Not that I'm particularly prone to such expressions in general.

Just take the bribes and do what you were going to do anyway, sent Torako, who I very firmly ignored.

Kitsu's mannequin smile remained in place. “Perish the thought. I just wanted you to know that my resources are at your disposal, should you require them.”

Eh, why not. It wasn't like I had any other leads. I pulled out the picture of Koyama to see if I got a bite.

“Ah yes. Koyama Mari. The member of the Beautification Club so recently attacked.”

Wait what.

“That was the matter I was offering my humble assistance with. Since you don't take the trouble to keep up with the news, let me just casually discard this issue that I'm finished with in a manner nobody would take for bribery.”

I snatched up the broadsheet before it hit the table. There on the front page of The Mahora News was Koyama's injured face, so clear I wanted to wipe the fresh blood off her. Kamiya would've committed seppuku with a lemon-juice-soaked spoon before letting paparazzi at a patient, so they must have gotten the picture through some new form of guile. “This is why I don't subscribe to the newspaper. When it isn't limited to articles not worth the money, it's doing things I have no intention of financially rewarding.”

“Wait a second,” interjected Torako. “The school newspaper costs money? I thought clubs for that just gave it out for...free....” She trailed off in the face of Kitsu and me staring blankly at her, for once united in our utter bafflement.

“How...how else are they supposed to make any money?” asked Kitsu, after a moment.

I coughed lightly. “She's had, ah, a rather nonstandard scholastic experience. It seems to have produced some rather odd ideas in her about how normal schools function.” I ignored the sputtering from Torako about what was and was not standard or normal, and occasionally about suppositories.

“Anyway,” said Kitsu, adopting a sorrowful expression that I swear she was deliberately making as insincere as possible, “I'm deeply wounded that you might think I was involved in this atrocity. I'm a businesswoman, not a butcher. My only concern is the tidy profit my perfectly legitimate establishment turns under the status quo. I shouldn't have to explain this, but when order is threatened, you should look to the malcontents and the unfortunate, with the least to lose and most to gain, not,” and she regally placed a hand on her chest, “the most successful people around.”

I nodded pensively. “Your only concern is profit, eh? Maybe you should trouble yourself more about, say, your English grades. I happened to see them the last time the scores were posted, and that shockingly low number next to your name just jumped out at me. Oh, how the youth of today has fallen.” Her score hadn't, strictly speaking, been as horrendous as I implied, but I certainly wasn't about to let some henna-bedecked pretender think she'd gotten the best of me. Especially given her valid points. Thus, I dropped the money for the meal and the newspaper on the table and swanned off quickly, before she could recover enough to retort.

“So, inspiration hit?” Torako asked once we'd left earshot of the Chao Bao Zi. “You've gone from frustrated to determined for the first time today.”

“I didn't realize I was so transparent.”

“Fate. I worked under Fate. I know a thing or two about reading expressionless faces.”

A fair point. “Hopefully she's right, and it's merely some student who feels like an outsider lashing out.”

“And not so hopefully?”

“It's...someone more outside than that. A force external to the island, willing to inflict such damage on a middle schooler? I fear for the devastation they could bring.”
Let's Watch Nanoha
Wits, magic, and hardboiled monologues.
My other claims to fame.
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IAmNotCreativeEnough
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Has Problems Giving A Shit

IIRC, it's Seppuku. Always seen it that way, at least.
rikalous wrote
 
Yes I am. I said I would, and I hate going back on my word. IANCE, you pustulating whoreson, I am going to find you when this is over. They will make a torture porn movie about your death, and they will have to tone it down to maintain suspension of disbelief.

Shadow Crystal Mage wrote
 
There there. Go do evil things in the name of the government to feel better.


There Be Whales Here
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