Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt

Chapter 1 – Of Neckwear and Holy Garments

Little Tokyo wasn't one of the happiest places to be, in all honesty. It was so mundane that the daily routine could drive someone nuts. Of course, he couldn't contest to where he was placed, and he didn't for the past two months. During that time he only managed to get three Heavens, two of which came from one Ghost, which was actually fine by his standards. He wasn't in that much of a rush to collect Heavens anyway. Today's hunt may garner him at least two, but he wasn't sure.

It was almost Christmas, and it was freezing. It was even more so because of the Ghost's influence and abilities. A… something that died in a blizzard, now it was making the climate even colder by swinging its limbs frantically, fast enough that gusts of cold air would travel in a radius of about one kilometer. Thank god he was wearing his favorite coat that day, custom-made to look like something those vampire hunters in Castle-something or rather would wear. He did love his games and anime, enough that he'd made various cloaks and trench-coats based on them. He liked to, how do humans call it, cosplay? It didn't matter right now, all he knew was he liked his warm and fuzzy coat.

In all honesty his coat wasn't all that fuzzy actually. The neckties - sorry, cravats, as Habit constantly corrects him to call it, though he didn't want to call his weapons by his own name, were the sort of fuzzier pieces of clothing he had on. But they weren't just any sort of old-school necktie, they were magical. Not the magical-girl transformation shit you see on god knows how many magical-girl anime out there, more of the portable, divine, weapon – in – a – can, anti-restless spirit sort of magical. So maybe it would be better to call them divinal, or divine, or something. Sacred! There's the right term. He always had two on, no matter how hot it got to match his fighting style. Today was bitchingly cold though, even with two on.

"I guess I'm better off than them," he quietly said, as he glanced at his surroundings. Humans, animals, and landscape were all frozen, which honestly, didn't really make them look any different. The city was that boring. He couldn't tell the difference if someone froze the entire damn area, which frankly this Ghost was doing a pretty good job of. It looked at him cautiously, and he walked to a point around ten meters from it and stopped, addressing his target. He scratched the back of his head thinking of whatever he could say. It was always pointless to try and negotiate with these things though.

"You wouldn't be in the mood to go along with the easy route would you?" he asked in an inquisitive tone. The Ghost only started to flap harder, and narrowed its eyes at him. It blew two giant ice shards that had formed in the ground right towards him. "I guess that's a no then?"

Quickly dodging below the first one, and side-stepping the second, he grabbed his own ice-shard from the ground and threw it full force at the Ghost. The icicle embedded itself deep within a shoulder, and it roared in pain. The Ghost started to create stronger gusts, and he decided he really didn't have a say if the city deserves to be frozen or not. He breathed in deeply, and reached for the two pieces of clothing wrapped around the collar of his dress-shirt that were tucked inside his buttoned up coat. Yes, he had to wear a dress shirt. He would look even more retarded wearing his pseudo-neckties if he didn't.

"I'm done with the games."

In an instant, he was surrounded by a flash of light that would've mesmerized anyone who'd been present. His coat flew back wildly as a distinctive halo formed above his head, with six wings of light emanating from behind him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Oh Lamenting Spirit,

Damned to wander the earth without respite,

Be freed by garb blessed by the Savior,

Receive your absolution,

Return to wherever you belong, Rest In Peace.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The halo and wings disappeared as two balls of energy formed at his finger tips, and he flung his arm to his sides. A handle with a menacing tip materialized, two of them, one in each hand. Grabbing them both, he steadied himself and narrowed his eyes, analyzing his target. This Ghost was garden variety, by now he could tell that much, but a little caution never hurt anyone. He smirked, then jabbed both weapons into the ground, sending cracks along the frozen surface. A low rumbling came from below, and the tips, with stake-like protrusions in the middle and sickles on either side were now impaling the Ghost from below, a narrow whip-like stream of light trailing behind them. The two flew around the ghost quickly, and soon it was entangled, unable to move. It roared in defiance and snapped what looked like its jaws at him. For a good, long minute, it kept trying to escape. Once it realized it wasn't going anywhere, it stopped and looked straight at him. He could see despair in its eyes. It hadn't gotten the fullest out of life, and now it couldn't accept anyone and everyone moving on without it. He felt slight pity, but nothing more. The Ghost itself knew someone would stop it sooner or later, and it let out an exasperated sigh. He for one cracked his neck a bit.

"So," he said, raising the handles in front of him. He flicked his wrists, and the portion of the 'whip' that was underground sprung up, breaching the surface of dirt and snow it was buried under. He made an 'X' with his arms in front of him, and he gripped the handles tightly. "You got any last words you'd like to say?"

The Ghost thought about it for a moment or two, looking upwards and tilting its head to the side as if pondering on something. "Suck my ethereal dick," it said, smirking. He laughed slightly, humoring it. Really now, Ghosts had the oddest sense of humor.

"Honestly? I'd rather not," swinging his arms abruptly to his sides, almost parallel to his shoulders, the tension of the whip increased immensely, and it tore through the ghost in a split-second, cutting it to pieces, before it disintegrated into ash (or whatever the hell it was, he'd always wondered.)

"Trust me, it's way less boring up there," he paused for a bit. "… Or down there, whichever you end up in."

That familiar bell tolled in the distance. The two whips retracted back into the handle, making a distinct metallic snap as they locked in place. He looked around. Everything that was frozen began to thaw. They would be back to normal in an hour, give or take.

"At least something happened before the New Year," He stretched his arms upward as he walked towards the remains. One Heaven. Brilliant. Not like it wasn't expected. He flipped the coin and tucked it away in his back pocket. His weapons reverted back to their original form, and he tied the two together in a scrunched up style and tucked it back inside his coat. After straightening up his collar, he began to walk back in the direction of the church.

It was still ungodly cold, even without the damn Ghost. The snow piled up until his shins, and trudging through the slosh became even more tiring than dealing with the Ghost. The lingering feeling of his entire lower body freezing off was becoming more and more apparent, but luckily his pants provided some sort of protection against the cold. He was shriveling up like a prune down 'there' though. Cursing, he started picked up his pace through the cold and snow-piled streets.

He'd finally reached a crowded street that was filled with unfrozen life. Amazing how some people are just too oblivious to know what was happening elsewhere. Of course, Habit already put up some crazy magic voodoo that made everything in that direction seem normal. Don't want mass panic now do we? He glanced at everyone he passed by. The streets were littered with varying sizes of people wearing jackets, coats, shawls, scarves, the whole package for the Christmas season. Even with all the different kinds of fashion sense present, he still got an odd glance here and there from people that passed by. It wasn't really out of the ordinary. He gets that a lot thanks to the clothes he wore. To other people he probably looked like some avid anime cosplayer or something, flowing coat and all. In truth, during his time on Earth he turned out to things like that, and showed no fear in expressing it. In fact, he subconsciously made whooshing sounds whenever the wind made his coat flow up epically, ignoring the stares of anyone who heard him. He had his own little world sometimes, and he liked it there.

Adjusting his hands in his pants pockets, he shuddered real quickly to get rid of the cold that was building up. Unable to resist, he cupped his hands and blew air into them, which warmed him somewhat. After another few blocks, he was standing in front of the church. A small one, it wasn't really anything of note, pure white made of marble, didn't have a second floor and not that spacious inside. He was alright with it though. Better than nothing, he always said. He entered the large, maple-wood doors.

The only other resident of their humble abode was Habit, with her radically modified religious garment on. Not being part of a real convent since it was just a sort of uniform, she was given leeway on modifying her outfit to match her needs. She needed to be agile with her throwing weapons after all. Made with blessed metal, she can cleave an apple while on the move from a hundred freaking yards. Habit was assigned to 'oversee' him as he collected his Heavens, though in all honesty he wasn't planning on neglecting collecting them anyway. She was, during that time against this Ghost that gave him two Heavens, the difference between him and the after after life. Out of the two of them though, she was probably the most childish.

Her weapons also can't banish Ghosts, just deter them for a good few minutes, long enough for him to finish the job with his Whipsickles. She nicknamed his weapons that, oddly. He wanted to call them Nemesis Whips, but the name reminded him of the weapons this demigod guy had on a console game he'd enjoyed playing, so to avoid a lawsuit if ever he were to show up on television, he stuck with Ghost Kira, still in homage of that game with the vampire hunters and that anime starring a guy with a god-complex.

Habit was bending over a stand, trying to reach a stray plastic jar of cookies that had fallen in the crevice near the wall. She loved the stuff. Chocolate Chip, Oat, Wheat, even those cookie sandwiches with filling in them. It's adorable seeing her in the supermarket filling the cart with about five different brands, asking him if she could get just one more. He always said she could, since she was the one paying for both of them anyway. He walked up to her, though she really wasn't noticing him at all. He crouched down, pondering on what he would do. A quick poke to the right buttock. She yelped in surprise.

"Yo," He said nonchalantly as he raised one hand in greeting. Habit sighed in relief as she saw it was only him.

"Waaah, it's only you Cravat," she said as she went back to reaching for the jar. "I thought it was a molester or something!" she said in a cheerful tone. Cravat smiled slightly. He envisioned her cutting off anything vital before the molester even got to first base. It's amazing where she could keep her weaponry. Never try to grope her anywhere, although she didn't really load up unless she went hunting with him. If you do try a cop-a-feel at any other time, chances are you'll need a few stitches afterward. She's also crazy scary when she's serious. Of course, that would be about two percent of the time. Sixty percent of the time she's an air-head, twenty percent of the time she stares off into the distance, i.e. spaces out, and the last eighteen percent she would be obsessing over which cookie to eat next. Right now she was at her eighteen percent stage.

"I see you're eating the Mr. Plains today," he stood up, stretching his legs out. By the time she turned back to face him, she was nibbling on one already. She chewed quickly, and swallowed the half she bit off.

"I finished the Triple Stuffed yesterday. We're running low on them by the way," she said before devouring the last piece. Cravat looked at her figure. She was averagely built, slightly toned from all the physical labor she puts in training for a Ghost attack, although she only ever accompanied him once for that Ghost that gave him two Heavens. She had orange, slightly wavy shoulder length hair, and her bangs were kept away from her face with a little clip just above her left eye. Her chest area was pretty average, but certainly not a DFC. He always lol'd or lmao'd at her whenever she tried to seduce him into buying her stuff with the use of her chest, much to her annoyance.

He was amazed how much internet information and slang he'd picked up over the time he'd spent on earth. That site… what was it…? 40chan something or rather, a very… intriguing site, to say the least, was, as he dubbed it, an amalgamation of earth's knowledge and wisdom. As long as a stray goatsee picture or a Rick-Roll'd virus didn't pop up in his laptop everything's fine. Internet = best invention ever. Well, next to powdered water. Back to looking at Habit now. His thoughts tended to stray sometimes.

"What are you looking at Ravvy?" There's that nickname again. It was her little pet name for him, which he never really managed to shake off. She was tilting her head to the side while looking up at him. Another obvious physical trait she had was she was only about five-foot-one. Him being nearly five-foot-nine, he had to look down at her a lot, which made her looking up at him all the more adorable. He wasn't attracted to her though, it just felt like staring at a stray kitten whenever she looked up at him. Never be fooled by those looks Rav, he thought to himself, she decapitated the penis of the last guy she dated for trying to get into her pants in an impolite way. Of course, it was the taking her into a dark deserted alleyway and pinning her down kind of impolite, which he would never have the balls to do in all honesty. All she told Cravat was that she cut 'his junk' off before her assailant even 'got the blood flowing'. She called an ambulance out of what Cravat could only describe as an odd kind of remorse. The guy's privates were salvaged, though he was in so much trauma he didn't remember having a date with Habit or his little desperation act, and she in turn didn't mention it out of pity. Cravat shuddered. Truly, he had never met a much more fearsome person than this five-foot-one ray of cookie addiction.

Despite all of that though, she was a caring person behind all the homicidal mood-spikes. At least, he'd like to think of it that way. Only God knows what's really going on in that head of hers. Suddenly, he had this itchy feeling in his nose. He let out a loud sneeze to his right to avoid spraying Habit with a possible virus.

"You wouldn't happen to be catching a cold would you?" she brushed the bangs of his messy, light brown hair that went past his ears to the side and placed her hand on his forehead. He gently patted her hand away.

"Just tired. I promise," And yes, he felt a slight cold coming along, though he kept it to himself. Nothing a tablet of Paracetamol couldn't handle. He went to the kitchen to retrieve some when he noticed a ray of peculiar light on the ceiling. A few more seconds of waiting, and a thunderbolt struck their Heaven-issued mail box, which then spat out a relatively small piece of paper. Countless times this has happened before. Yet another mission from high up, he thought.

"But it's the evening already…" Cravat crouched down and picked up the note. The word 'TRANSFER' in big, red letters were scrawled ever so neatly on it.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

As soon as they packed up and sent their luggage through a magical portal to their destination, they were on the road. Why they couldn't go through the portal with the luggage, he will never know. It zapped him something fierce when he tried to sneak in.

He could've used some light right about now. It being nighttime, the only light he had going for him was his headlights and the headlights of the cars he whizzed by. Soon enough they were on a well-lit highway. Good-bye Little Tokyo, he thought.

"Let me get this straight…" Cravat said as he tried to shift his position on his motorbike Lash-Out. He had to move a little since Habit clung to him from behind. "It would be in our best interest to collaborate with the Angels in Daten City since the rate both our groups get Heavens is, to put it bluntly, pitiful?"

"Well that's what the letter that came after it said," Habit replied. She held on tighter as Cravat seemed to be going at breakneck speeds. Another thing she didn't like was riding Lash-Out with Cravat. It was like sentencing yourself to a fiery death. Kind of like Robot Unicorn. "Little Tokyo barely gets any ghosts, and it's easy to go from one city to the other if it's only occasionally," Habit said slowly. Zipping past all the cars made them look like streaks of color. It made her nauseous. She decided to dig her head into his back and close her eyes. "Oh, and technically they've got a lot of Ghosts in Daten, but one of the Angels is too hopped up on sex to care much about gathering Heavens." She continued. Cravat lost control for a split second, threatening to crash them into a sedan. He swerved away from it, kicking off the wheel of a truck to gain balance again, and rocketed past the traffic in the spaces the lined up vehicles created.

"What the hell is up with that?" he asked, referring to the sexed up Angel. Habit made a shrugging gesture without looking up. She really was about to throw up. "Actually, in all honesty I'd rather not find out," Cravat shifted another gear up. She groaned in agony. "I've got an idea. Let's take a short cut. Thank god I've had practice on our consoles for this."

"Do you mean the racing ones? Are we going to like just weave through the cars?" she asked. A smirk appeared on Cravat's face.

"Nah, more like that Split Second thing, taking crazy ass shortcuts, except we're on a motorcycle." He replied. Habit felt like she would regret asking him what she was about to.

"Don't you crash in that game?"

"Not all the time, if you're good you can work your way around things."

"So did you crash a lot?" she asked. Cravat laughed.

"All the time."

"Oh god-" before Habit could contest any further, they flew off the highway onto the crowded city street below. He skillfully zipped past an oncoming truck and took a sharp left into a mall. He swerved around the people inside and used the escalator as a launch ramp to get him to the highest floor. Taking a sharp turn to the staircase leading to the rooftop, he bunny-hopped up the stairs and onto the mall-roof. There, he examined the surrounding area, looking for the church they were to arrive at. Habit clung to him like the Jaws of Life.

"Y-You know, you're the reason w-why I can't g-g-go on r-r-roller-c-c-coasters!" she shouted through his coat. He patted her on the head lightly.

"We're almost there. I can see it from here," he said, looking at the bell-tower of a church in the distance. "Hang on tight."

"Just think of your cookies just think of your cookies-!" Habit said to herself repeatedly. Cravat revved Lash-Out and jumped off the rooftop. They landed on the rooftop of another building, and, using what he could use as a ramp, they flew off it, now riding sideways on another building wall. He kicked off, and they landed onto a pathway through a residential area. Evading the stray soccer-balls and the occasional baby-cart and old person, he noticed trees in the distance. Getting another idea, he wheelied onto the trunk of one and rode until the top, and launched off above the other trees in their path. He saw the church in the distance, near the edge of a cliff, and tapped Habit to make her look.

"Hell no, not until we're on solid, safe, stable, happy, chocolate chip ground!" she replied with her eyes glued shut. They soared above the ground for a good few seconds, and when they landed they came to a screeching halt, perfectly parked in front of the large glass doors. Habit got off but her legs gave way. Cravat picked hoisted her onto his back and pulled what he guessed was a doorbell. Sure enough, he could hear a faint ringing sound inside. He looked to Habit who was now in a state of minor hysteria.

"You, you know, you crazy, real crazy, yeah, haha. I want my cookies now please, nice cookies, comfort cookies, yes, good times, good times~" she said with half-shut eyes and a smile on her face. He just laughed again. They were greeted by a tall, muscular black man with a large afro who curiously wore priest clothing.

"Er, Reverend Garterbelt?" he asked. He looked at them like a hawk, indifferent.

"You must be the two transferees." He said. He motioned them to go inside. He spied the look on Habit's face.

"You two wouldn't happen to be sex addicts too would you?" He loudly asked. Cravat cringed and turned to face the Reverend.

"N-No, she's just a little shook up from the ride here." Cravat said politely. Garterbelt thought for a moment.

"She wouldn't happen to have been riding y-"

"NO." Cravat said hastily. Garterbelt let out a loud chuckle.

"Alright alright, I'm just fooling around. Your things arrived here quite some time before you. They're in that tower across," he said, pointing to the tower connected to the church. "Just take the stairs over there and walk right across the bridge. Because of the lack of rooms, you'll have to bunk with one of the Angels."

Cravat was a little uneasy. "Aren't they both girls?" he asked. He'd never even shared a room with Habit before. He'd only been into a girl's room in games like Persona or a visual novel. Even then, it was awkward for him. This was a real, living, breathing, non-virtual girl. God he was such a video game addict sometimes. "And why me?"

"Common courtesy, dear boy. Ladies always get a room first, if you can count those two… vulgarities as women." Garterbelt said with a passion. He must have not gotten along with the Angels much. "Well I'll be on my way now. Good luck with Stocking. She's the harmless one," he paused for effect. "… most of the time." Garterbelt turned around and started to walk off. "Now get to sleep, you all have to play meet and greet tomorrow morning," he paused for effect again. "… if you survive the night." With that, he started whistling what sounded like a funeral song. Oh I'm screwed, he thought to himself. He shifted Habit on his back and headed towards their rooms.

After setting down Habit on her bed, who'd already fallen asleep on their way there, he left her room to search for his own. He found his luggage bag first and changed into his sleeping attire, which was, basically, shorts and a plain old T-Shirt. The room wasn't all that hard to find, as the three rooms were right next to each other. He looked for the door with the name Stocking on it, and cautiously entered. To his surprise, it wasn't all that bad. It was dark so he couldn't really see anything, only the faint presence of a shelf with what looked like stuffed toys on it. He could really care less, he was about to fall asleep. He squinted in the darkness and spied a simple little mattress laid out for him with a pillow and a blanket, a little far from the bed where he guessed the Angel named Stocking slept. He could barely make out her long, dark hair with what seemed to be pinkish highlights on it. That's peculiar, he thought.

He went up to his mattress as quietly as he could and just dropped on it. It was soft and fluffy, and all he really cared about right now. The anxiety he felt a while ago sleeping in a girl's room had been dispelled for a while because of his drowsiness, though he had a feeling it would hit him full force when he wakes up in the morning. A final thought entered his mind before he finally fell asleep.

"It probably won't be that bad…"

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Hoooooly Crap. Long first chapter. Got into Panty and Stocking a few weeks back, never got around to finishing this. Hope you guys aren't too brutal. I plan to finish my Gundam Fanfics as well, if ever the inspiration strikes me. Bye for now then ^_^