Looking in the mirror…, I see my face. I'm not sure what else I was expecting to see. It's a mirror.
"Mr. Faeriering, if you're just about finished preening yourself, I think it would be best to leave as soon as we can." I could hear Boomslang mocking me from just outside my bedroom door.
Honestly, it worries me quite a bit to have her so close to where the naughty things happen. I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm safe so long as the door stays locked between us, but when I finally do open it, I'll have to make a line for the outside like a rabbit escaping from an animal testing facility for caffeine pills.
Ignoring her for the moment, I decide to take one last look in the mirror. Possibly I'll reassess what it is I'm doing with my life. Whatever I'm doing, I'm certainly dressed for it. I'm all decked out in my adventuring gear, and 'round these parts our adventuring gear doubles as our formal attire: that is if the ceremony you mean to attend is Jean Paul Gaultier's wedding to Kefka Palazzo.
Since this is Lowee, I thought it best to dress in keeping with the oriental theme, and what that means is I'm wearing fancy Japanese pants. And they are fancy. I'm wearing to kimonos right now, the stiff outer kimono is made from a blend of cotton and a faux silk fabric dyed a deep dark blue. The lines starting from the neck down the arms are squarely creased because I find that rounded look a bit haphazard looking. The white under kimono is called the nagajuban, it is much looser and less restrictive than the more professional looking, yet stiff and uncomfortable outer kimono would be on its own. Together, these two are tucked into a very wide pair of trousers called hakama. Mine are a dark grey color because it does not clash too severely with the blue of my kimono because, as a businessman, I have to worry about my appearances even in the thick of battle. Because of the great width afforded to me by the hakama allows them to be creased without suffering a casualty in comfort. Over the kimono is a large fitting jacket called the haori. The material here is almost entirely indigo dyed silk, of which I am very proud.
To tell the truth, when I first commissioned this outfit to be made, I wanted to have a crest bearing the image of a mushroom emblazoned on the back of my haori. An artist sketch of that however revealed to me that mushrooms look incredibly phallic. Scrapping that idea, I decided to have the character "kin" or "金" painted in the crest's place in a sort of pyramid of seven characters piled on top of one another in order of descending size. It's not meant to be symbolic, but it is meant to reaffirm what should have already been learned: I want nothing more out of life than a big ass pile of gold. There are some other wants of mine that I live my life aiming for, but I'm not sure what the Japanese character would be for "monster girl concubine".
Well, the matter of my clothes has been dealt with. All that's left is to primp my hai-eeeeeeeey! "Ow! My hair!" I felt something or someone, probably Boomslang, jerk hard at my ponytail.
"I swear, know actually harpies – actual harpies – that don't preen for as long as you do." Said Boomslang, her grip on my hair as soft and as gentle as an eighteen wheeled lorry with a jet engine. "I have to admit it though, your hair is fabulous."
Boomslang grips tight on my ponytail, using all three feet of my beautiful ravenous mane as a leash with which to – OW! "Quit pulling on it, you cold-blooded monster!"
"Sweet talking will get you everywhere, Faerie boy~3!" At that moment I heard the swift "Schwing!" of a knife blade unfolding, immediately succeeded by the feeling of something long and thin pressing down against where my pony tail met my head. "Is it because of your hair that you take so long to get ready? Maybe I should do us all a favor and cut out the tumor before it proves malignant."
"Don't call my hair a tumor!" She has no idea the amount of work I've put into maintaining the glossy sheen I have today. "If you harm a single hair on my head, I'll never speak to you again!"
Boomslang let go of my hair, and I fell forward to my face.
"Omph!" That was the sound of me grunting while my open mouth slammed against the floor.
"Oh! You're such a ninny when it comes to your hair." She chided me. "And I thought you'd look cute with short hair, too…."
"You don't give haircuts with serrated knives!" I shouted at her, coddling my ponytail in my arms so that I knew it would be safe.
"Should I use an X-Acto knife next time?" She asked, not missing a beat.
"Stay away from me with your knives!" I tried to sound imposing, but I was only whimpering in the end.
Whoosh! Went the sound of much heavier steel cutting through the air. In my grief born of hair troubles, I couldn't find it in me to care for what I heard. Conversely, Boomslang immediately recognized the sound of swinging steel as one of imminent danger. Kicking me hard to the far left of my own bedroom, she made sure that I was safe before she herself rolled to my room's left side wall. It was no sooner than when she started her roll that a massive two-edged sword of at least six feet in length from the tip of its blade to the bottom of its pommel swung in a clumsy arc through the top of my door frame, tore through my ceiling, bisected my bed before finally terminating its arc in my floor where about two feet of the blade had sheathed in the bit of floor just below where my bed once stood. Bits of dirt, dry wall, and wood had flown everywhere. Most pressingly, THAT SHIT GOT IN MY HAIR!
Holding on tight to the hilt of the ridiculous sword was Lamy, whose dreadful gaze was locked firmly onto Boomslang. Her human upper body was decked in a brown leather tunic and plates of anodized Ocean Devil scales covering her elbows, shoulders, and forearms. A larger piece, probably formed by the melding of many separate scales together, was mounted over her left breast to protect her heart. Boomslang met Lamy's frightful visage with one of her own, all teeth displayed and her knife meant solely for Lamy at this point.
"You two should quit flirting and hurry it up." Said Lamy, with a menacing aside glance.
"What we as adults do is of no concern to children like you." Boomslang met Lamy's threatening stance with her own. "Now, are you going to be a good little child, or do you want to find out how many times I can cut you before you can even pull that sword out of the floor?"
Gritting her teeth, and with one arm Lamy ripped her sword out from the earth and swung the blade again in our direction and bursting through the left side of my door frame and connected bit of wall with the broad end of her sword. "Zero." She hissed, entirely confident in her ability to take on Boomslang again.
The two of them had more than just their natural weapons to hand this time. This time they were raring to fight with steel. My bedroom was in shambles, my bed was in two, but what irked me most of all was that MY HAIR WAS COVERED IN WOOD SPLINTERS AND BITS OF SHEETROCK!
"You two…." I stood up, my poor disheveled hair falling limp in my arms. "THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!"
I'm not entirely sure what happened after that, but around an hour later I regained my senses enough to register that Boomslang, Lamy and I were all still waiting in my home, Boomslang and Lamy both sat in seiza style in front of me (which was particularly impressive on the part of Lamy who had to do so with six legs), and in my hand was my katana in its sheath like an angry teacher's hickory yardstick.
"AND THE NEXT TIME EITHER OF YOU LITTLE WENCHES GETS SHIT IN MY HAIR LIKE BEFORE, YOU'LL BE TAKING ALL 73 cm OF MY SHEATH UP YOUR ASSES, AND I'VE ONLY GOT ONE SHEATH, SO EITHER YOU TWO TAKE TURNS, OR ONE OF YOU GETS THE TASTE OF STEEL UP YOUR BUM!" I'm screaming apparently, so maybe that analogy about teacher's whipping sticks was entirely appropriate. "Okay, I sort lost it there. What were we doing?"
"I was listening to your sexy rage voice." Said Boomslang, looking like she's ready for a night to remember.
Slightly revolted by the bad doctor, I turned my attention towards my cutie pie shop keeper, Lamy, who fought back the tears which had built up around her eyes. "Youwere arguing, and stuff, so I came in and saw how close you two were getting, and I got mad because I thought you liked me better, so when I saw the way you two were flirting, and I got mad, and…." Lamy was too preoccupied with the sputtering out of sorrowful nonsense to make any coherent statements.
What am I going to do with these two…?
"I'm not sure what is in you creatures that you show such drastic shifts in temperament around one another, but this shit has to end!" I stamped my foot. "We three are going on an expedition to the untamed wilderness of Leanbox, but there's no way we'll find the Tuber leanboxer tuberum if you two keep trying to kill each other every hour on the hour!"
Boomslang, without showing any attempt to remedy the aching of my nerves, raised her hand to catch my attention. "Question: You and I are both adults, aren't we? Why do we need this little girl around to bother us?"
Because I don't trust you not try something weird when my defenses are down. "I've taken La-La out on expeditions more perilous than this one. She's strong enough to chop down entire trees in one swing, and the experience will be good for her." Also, I don't trust you not to try something weird when my defenses are down.
"That's right!" Said Lamy, who was probably trying her best to resist the urge to stick out her tongue out at Boomslang. "Mr. Faeriering and I can hand ourselves. You can slither back to whatever hole you live in!"
"I have as big a stake in this as Faeriering, you thing." Boomslang snaps right back at her. "I've invested my time, money, and research into this production, and I am not about to let you take away my man!" Boomslang, I think you started one sentence and finished an entirely different one there.
"Enough!" I shouted, finally. "You two will listen to me!"
I honestly wonder if the three of us will even get anything done on this trip.