'Why does it never cease to surprise me to learn that humanity can change so much and yet so little at the same time?' She mused as She moved between the crowds cluttering the city sidewalks.
It had been well over a millennia since her last summoning, so naturally she was a bit astonished at how humanity had "improved" its skills concerning architecture, their buildings seeming to touch the sky they were so tall. She hadn't seen the like since the Tower of Babel and even that was diminutive compared to these behemoths. She decided however that She was not overly fond of the use so much metal; stone was better in that it still felt like Mother Earth long after it had been mined, like an echo of its origin, bringing comfort and familiarity.
'Then again,' She thought, taking in the sights around her, 'I suppose I should be grateful to be able to see this world again at all. Though I think I'd have preferred slightly different circumstances.'
Long ago most of her kind, Djinn, were banished to an alternate reality- 'Thanks Solomon,' She groused -and could only come back if they were summoned. Summoning was rather tricky and required certain steps to be taken in order to ensure that the summoned Djinn in question did not, oh say, burn the flesh off their summoner for daring to think that a Djinn would willingly be their slave. Not that She had ever done that; sure She had been known to burn off clothes, and worse if truly peeved, but usually She just tried to get the whole humiliating thing over and done with as quickly as possible (and if She took her "master's" words too literally, well that's hardly her fault now is it?).
Summoning had become a somewhat rare thing in the past few centuries-She can't even quite remember the last time She had heard of someone being summoned-and She supposed that the result of that is that today's humans have even less idea about Djinn than they did a thousand years ago.
Take the one who summoned her today for instance. What the smuck was trying to accomplish was beyond her, but evidently he found her name in some old text and decided to give it a try for a hoot. Which, in and of it self, was annoying, but what was worse about the whole thing is that apparently the man-Thompson, She thinks-was under the impression that because she was a female Djinn that she would be a weak docile little thing, willing to do anything and everything he said.
But She supposes she should thank him; his underestimation of her lead to him making what was already a flimsy summoning circle even more useless by not putting the characters in place that would have held a Si'lat of her caliber. She broke through it seconds after learning what he planned for her-could have done so sooner but was curious to see who had summoned her. He had barely begun a litany of household chores when She snapped.
The girly scream he'd let out as She torched his hair was oh so satisfying.
So now She's here: wandering about this strange new city, this strange new world: unchained from any sort of master and free to do as she pleased.
Just the thought of the fun she could have made a mischievous smile curl her lips.
She's passing by the opening of an alley when some voices from within it cause her to pause in her steps.
"…Come on, sweetheart! Ditch the apron and let us show ya what a real good time looks like," a male voice tried to coo but instead wound up sounding just plain greasy.
"Thanks but, no thanks," another voice answered, female this time. "I had plenty of 'good times' and they sure as heck didn't involve the likes of you bums."
'Heh heh, nice to learn that human women haven't lost their backbone yet,' She chuckled.
She was about to move on when a third voice, another man, entered their opinion.
"Look sugar, I don't think that pretty little head of yours is grasping what we're saying. We're not asking you to come with us-"
"-We're telling you," chimed the first.
"So come along quietly like a good little girl-"
"Or you'll get slapped like a bad one."
The Djinn could feel her knuckles crack as she curled her fingers into fists.
'Oh no. This will not do at all!'
"Angela Martinelli, one of these days that mouth of yours is gonna get you into a world of trouble!"
Angie could practically hear her mother's words in her ears right as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum cornered her in the alleyway behind the automat.
The pair of them had been standing at the mouth of the alley when she came out to dump a trash bag, but evidently where casting directors thought she didn't have the face they were looking for, these "gentlemen" thought she looked just dandy.
Hence them getting into her personal space, spouting off pick-up lines like they were going out of style.
Up until now she had been grumpy: Angie had been on her feet all day since coming in from her third bust audition of the week.
When they started talking to her, she had been annoyed.
When they kept talking after she clearly wanted nothing to do with them, she got pissed.
But now that they were cornering her with lecherous grins on their faces, all she felt was scared. Angie was by no means weak (living with four older brothers and having a plethora of male cousins left zero room for weakness) but these stooges looked like ex-army types: and not the kind that were honorably discharged.
And they were currently standing between her and the automat's door.
Angie was just debating on whether she was fast enough to make it out of the other end of the alley before they caught her when a voice from behind them called out-
"Are you two really so pathetic that you need to actually kidnap women in order to get them to be with you," a woman with a English accent and brown curls sneered from the mouth of the alley, causing both men to snap around to her. "Oh-never mind; I can see the answer from the horrid lumps of flesh you call faces."
'What the hell was she doing?!' Angie thought in a panic; the men were easily half a foot taller than her, at least.
"The hell did you say bitch?!"
"I said you two were pathetic and ugly. And evidently also hard of hearing," she countered calmly.
One of the stooges began to stalk towards her, cussing all the while.
"I'm going to slap some manners into you, you slutty little gaAAH!" he cut off as the woman darted forward and around him, twisting his arm up and behind his back the moment he was in range.
"I'm not the one in need of manners, you waste of flesh," the brunette declared, still as cool as a cucumber, while Angie and Goon #2 looked on in shock.
"Though I dare say that I could do with a bit of a tussle. It's been a while since I've gone against humans; try to at least make it fun, won't you?"
With that the woman spun back around towards the audience of two, sending the ruffian careening into his friend, knocking both over into a heap. All the while Angie simply stood there with her mouth agape, her head swinging back and forth between the men and the woman like she was watching a tennis match.
Finally righting themselves, the boys growled, "You're gonna pay for that you bitch!" and simultaneously charged at the woman, fists raised.
They never touched her.
The same, however, could not be said for the woman.
She met her opponents head on: literally! She grabbed the first one by his collar and smashed her head against his nose, leaving it bloody when she pulled away.
Before his friend even realized what had happened, she had turned her attentions on him, her fist swinging out in an arc that caught him square in the jaw and sent him sprawling onto the ground. She'd kicked the legs out from under the other one before the first had even hit the floor; the two managing to fall in such a way that their skulls clacked together, knocking them both out cold.
The waitress stood and watched the whole affair, completely gob smacked. And also a bit confused.
'I'm taking out the trash,' Angie ponders to herself, trying to comprehend what just happened, 'I get harassed by a couple of lowlifes. A gorgeous dame with an English accent appears out of freakin' nowhere. She tells them off. Proceeds to beat the tar out of them. And now she's-?!'
"Are you pouting?"
She had been, in fact, but really She had every right to be. Her specialty, and the purpose She was once often summoned for, was war and combat. There had been a time when whole armies had frozen at her appearance on the battlefield, and for good reason; her strategies alone were terrifying enough to send many a general skittering away in retreat; never mind her actual combat prowess.
So to say she was more than a bit disappointed in the lackluster fight (and She uses that word very lightly) these two goons had provided would be the understatement of her millennia.
But like hell She's going to readily admit that to a mere human. No matter how attractive they are.
"Course not. That would suggest I had high hopes for these imbeciles putting up a good fight," She sniffed.
"They've both got at least 100 pounds on you!" the girl nearly shrieked though there was the beginnings of a smile dancing about her lips.
"And yet they're the ones taking a nap at my feet. Your concern is appreciated, really, but very unnecessary; you don't get to be my age without learning a skill or two."
The girl-"Angie" the small plaque on her chest read- tilted her head in a way very reminiscent of a puppy and said, "You don't look that much older than me, English, and I sure can't do anything like that!" she gestured to the piled up goons at her feet.
"Looks can be very deceiving," She replied with a roguish grin.
Turning back towards the street, She was fully content on walking away and leaving it at that when Angie called out to her again.
"Wait a minute! You're gonna just cut and run without even letting me give you a proper thanks? You probably just saved my life!"
Still walking, the brunette simply waved her hand over a shoulder, not even bothering to turn around, and responded, "No thanks are necessary. I needed the exercise anyway-poor as it was. Just call whatever guards this city has and have them haul idiots one and two away."
Angie gnawed on her lip; she couldn't put her finger on it but there was something about this woman-something extraordinary and even more amazing then what the waitress had just witnessed-and damn it if she wasn't going to find out what it was!
"How 'bout some pie on the house!"
The dark haired woman stopped dead in her tracks.
Slowly She turned to face the waitress.
"…What kind of pies?"
This was originally going to be a single one-shot but I'm instead going to somewhat continue it.
Please R&R