Shiroi Kumo had been in a strange mood of late. Normally he sat on the outer ramparts of Gaudrim, that or his usual perch high in Earl Tyrant's hall. (`At least Makenshi's not underfoot` mused Earl Tyrant.)
But these past two days he had not left his quarters.
These were right on the outer ramparts, with permanently open shutters, Gaudrim had few windows and those that there were small, but Kumo was determined to get the fresh air he craved.
Though it was icy cold, Kumo lay naked in his nest of congealed Mist. Like all his kind he was inured to the cold and the wet, and frequently sat out in the snow with hardly anything (or nothing) on. Mist, however was soft and warm, and made an ideal bed.
Kumo was plotting.
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It was always sunny in Herba's secret garden; the plant woman was pricking out seedlings, as the Mysterian swordsmaster came up.
"Have you got any nettles?" Asked Kumo.
"Stinging nettles?" Replied Herba with an emphasis on the stinging bit as if she knew what she would like to do with them to Makenshi.
"Yes, nettle soup, good Mysterian dish."
"They are down the winding path by the stream, just beyond the goat willow." Herba told him, "the gloves are in the potting shed hung up on the right." She added, in a manner that suggested she would rather Kumo got stung.
"`Touch a nettle softly and you will get stung;
Grasp it like a man of mettle and it will do no harm.`"
"Don't take them all!" Called Herba after him.
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After having stolen the Hayakawas jam pan, Kumo set to work. Gaudrim had the power of lightning; Kumo knew how to work electrical appliances from his life on Wynderia after the destruction of his world. (He was still suspicious of the microwave though.) Pretty soon he had a pan of green goop boiled beyond what was needful to make soup, (he had taken his soup out earlier) Kumo retreated to the bathroom in his apartment.
Pretty soon he emerged, outside was Crux, who came and went randomly.
Crux's already large eyes widened at the sight of what Makenshi had done to himself.
"What do you think of this?" Asked Kumo.
Crux pulled a face. "Have you gone punk?" She asked.
"Don't be silly, many Mysterians have green hair...And with my eyes I don't have a choice."
"Disguise?" Crux continued.
"Yup."
"Can't hide you inside."
Kumo shook his newly dyed hair, "with a bit of misdirection no one will notice. Where I'm going they don't tend to notice such things. I can sense one of their Adepts long before they get near me."
Kumo retreated to his bedroom to Crux's puzzled cluckings.
He rummaged in the cupboards for a while, getting out several strange items of clothing.
"What do you think this looks like?" He went back to the living room.
Crux frowned. Kumo was now dressed in a manner very different to anything she had seen on her wide travels. She paused. "Cultural cross-dressing."
"Is that what you call it? Very appropriate."
Crux rubbed together her hands. "You have the metal horn tips of a Mysterian noble."
"Fine, but where I'm going pretty much every Horned One has them, will draw the eyes away from the fact that I have seven horns."
Crux nodded, "now you just have three. And that grey striped blanket tied back over your shoulders, a hornless slave..." She shook her head, not wanting to say the next bit, "or a moogle...A Wynderian moogle.... And a mist mask"
"You're quite right, but I can't get rid of the mask." Metal was very rare upon Mysteria and only one of his princely status would be able to afford a metal mist mask, (most were of leather, and not very effective, but on Mysteria that hardly mattered) Metal horn tips were regarded as hopelessly flash.
"And you have the brown jeans and heavy boots of a Wynderian miner." Crux looked even more doubtful, "freaky. And don't let Master see that jersey with `COMADEEN` on it."
"You're right, this is a very odd getup, and do you know what it is?"
Crux looked up; "you're a renegade Horned One of Wynderia."
"Not quite, or I used to be," he agreed that his disguise was a very weird one, and had bitter sweet memories of someone who was the first to `cultural cross dress` as Crux had so aptly called it, he had a Mysterian name cloak over his miners garb...But by then he had needed it.
"You do know Mysterian and Wynderia are allies now?"
"Yipe," said Crux.
"A threat to Chaos, when they start acting in concert, and not arguing over what to do..." Kumo laughed, "which knowing those scoundrels might take time."
"Can't count on them." Crux was sad.
"No, so I'm going there to put a spanner in the works, as the Soil Adepts would say...or help. Good idea?"
Crux shook her head dubiously.
"Relax, I think I can do it. I'm very curious."
"Dangerous. They know you."
"They know Shiroi Kumo, a nice boy in white who sticks doggedly to his native garb, not some green haired oik who thinks its trendy to dress like a soil grubber."
"They have a big price on your head. In both worlds." Crux told him.
Shiroi Kumo should be flattered. Besides the Dragon Lords have offered more gil than the Adepts of Soil have.
Crux gave an uninterpretable grunt.
"You can hide under my blanket."
"I'm not sure I want to come."
"Don't be silly. I'm sick of being mewed up in this dump; I want to go cause trouble."
"No, I'm not coming."
"Very well," said Kumo, slightly annoyed at that good spy elsewhere, "I've heard that the Kigenjutsu master is doing naked ascetics...I'm sure Earl Tyrant will want `detailed` snapshots."
Crux knew a dismissal when she heard it; she stomped off in a huff.
Kumo too was a little curious about what Lisa was doing, gaining spiritual energy...Like all Adepts of whatever discipline Kumo could be an insufferable egoist; other Adepts were for power challenges if not outright fights.
This was the initial problem between Mysteria and Wynderia...But Chaos had escalated it into a general fight.
He shook his head; let that psychopath Kaze behave that way, he had other pricks to kick.
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Kumo met Oscar in the corridor on they way out. The freak said "going to a fancy dress party Makenshi?" In that silly sort of tone.
"Oh no, if I was, Id go as Makenshi."
This made Oscar wiggle and laugh in that gruesome way of his...A good thing.
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