I'm so happy! I got such nice reviews that my friend said I had a "review glow". *grin* This newest effort goes out to everyone who wrote a review, nice or otherwise, unless it completely sucks then we'll just have to pretend that it never happened, 'k? Again reviews and flames are welcome, they help me, help myself. On another note Insanity is contagious. Just thought I'd be a Good Samaritan and warn y'all. On yet another note, sorry, there is one kinda sexist remark, but considering I'm a girl and trying to write, for one small section, as a boy I'm trying to be accurate with the opinions that exist there. Hey remember how Van told Hitomi that he didn't need any help from a girl? It was rude, but shows the opinions of less equal minded civilizations. Women's Rights, yyyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!


The Insanity One Can Cause


Eryn muttered a litany of curses under her breath as she followed the boy, whose name was apparently Miguel Something-she-had-forgotten, through the dark jungle outside of the compound behind them. Somehow they had made it past the bald men in togas/robes, now they were trekking through a place that was so not working with her hair. Nor her outfit, if truth be known. Every time she took a step her black, platform sandals sank into the soft ground, and annoying insects nipped at her bare arms and the skin revealed by her black capris. The fact that she was half supporting an injured, heavily armored soldier wasn't helping matters either. He hadn't wanted her assistance, but seeing him struggle along was just too painful to watch, albeit slightly amusing at the cost of his over-large ego. Why men refused to show their weakness and unmanliness was beyond her.

"You should take your armor off," she told him in a disapproving tone of voice. He grunted indifferently, the same response he had given every other time she had told him that.

"You know it'd be easier for us both if you'd take it off," she pointed out reasonably, as she adjusted the muscular arm draped over her shoulders. "For one thing it's putting stress on your injured leg, causing you unnecessary pain. For another it must be hot, so you're probably sweating like a pig under there and that means you're losing fluids you body needs," she lectured with superiority.

Suddenly he stopped walking, unprepared she stumbled into him, his heavy arm falling from her weary shoulders. Slowly she looked back at him, annoyance and wariness marking her pale face. He stood there, brown hair in disarray, gray eyes seething. Without a word he began to remove his armor, his nimble fingers moving deftly. All the while he kept his gaze on her own. She felt a dark flush creep across her cheeks and her mouth dry up, but she couldn't look away. All she could think was, 'oh my god!' and 'Where's a ten when you need one?'

With a casual shrug of his shoulders the last parts of his armor slid off and fell to the ground with a dull thud. Underneath he wore a sort of light blue undershirt and then there were those hot leather pants. She wasn't even going to think about that area, if she could help it.

"Now that that little striptease is done, and let me be the first to say yum, what are you going to do about your wound?" she asked pointing at the blood encrusted gash on his thigh.

He rolled his eyes and stripped off his shirt, now she was getting an eyeful of his well-toned chest and abdomen. This meant he was only clothed below the waist and she sure wasn't complaining about the view.

With medical precision he shredded his shirt and made a makeshift bandage, all the while she ogled his rippling muscles with large amber eyes. When he finished she began to clap enthusiastically. He gave her a strange look before motioning to follow, which she did more than willingly.

* * * * *

"Where is she?" asked the two adults with faltering patience.

"She went to hell," the little boy with gold-green eyes replied for the thousandth time. The parents stood up and gave each other a look.

"I guess we have to start paying for babysitters," said the mother with a sigh.

"I'll call the police," said the father heading to the phone. Max shrugged and ran off to play video games. Eryn always was a strange girl.

* * * * *

"Damn!" Eryn yelled in frustration as another branch snagged her hair. Viciously she yanked the offending lock free and then smacked the branch for good measure.

"You know that was a pointless waste of violence," Miguel informed her wryly. She glared at him and the smacked him upside the head. He flinched, but didn't retaliate, fortunately for her. She had no doubt that if he wanted to he could break her like a twig, so it was a wonder why she didn't stop. Of course her brothers would say she wasn't that strong in the thinking department, before being whacked silly by their pissed off sister.

"Where are we going anyway?" she demanded running her hands through her thick hair. Idly she wondered if she was going to have bald spots now from all the hair that she had to rip out to untangle herself.

"The temple shouldn't be far off, we'll meet Lord Dilandau, my commander, and the rest there," he replied tiredly. It was obvious that their journey was taxing his remaining strength. She felt sorry for him, though her pity he wouldn't want, and decided to be less of a bitch. Well, at least until they reached the temple thing and met his commander.

"Let's rest for a second, I'm tired." That was a complete lie, but she did have some fundamental understanding of the fragile male ego. He would never ask if they could take a break, needing to look strong in front of her, so she would have to for his sake.

"Fine but only for a few moments, they've probably sent a search party for me. We don't have much time," his tone was acidic, but nonetheless he sat down with a grateful groan. She stared unabashedly at his naked torso. It wasn't often she saw something so good outside of a video.

"So, are you some sort of mass murderer or something?" Eryn asked trying to start a conversation. She had been wondering exactly why he was trying to escape, the weirdness of the bald men not included.

"I've killed people, yes, but I'm their enemy," Miguel replied tersely, his eyes shadowed by his overhanging bangs.

"Okay, well I guess it sucks to be you," she said brightly. An awkward silence ensued, their breathing the only noise in the sultry jungle.

"We should get moving," he told her as he rose with difficulty. She shrugged and went to give him a hand. He waved her away and used a nearby tree instead. With a raised eyebrow she regarded him with amusement.

"Macho," she said with a grin.

"Of course," he retorted. For the first time she saw humor sparkle in his cool gray eyes and a smile curve his lips.

"You should do that more often," she giggled as she flicked a bang away from his face.

"Do what?" he asked in puzzlement.

"Smile," she told him with a winsome smile. He sighed heavily and the smile fading from his face, though there was still a trace in his eyes.

"Let's go."

"Whoa, mood swing," she muttered. What was with this guy? One little compliment and he was depressed city, population Miguel. God, this was a messed up world. At least she still had her magazine.

"Damn!" she cried as her hair became tangled again. He sighed and waited impatiently for her to free herself, while muttering something about taking his sword to her hair. If he tried anything with her hair she would do more than just smack him. Messing with the 'do was a serious offense and the punishment, the likes of which no civilized nation had seen, was severe.

As a preemptive warning she whacked him on the shoulder.

"Would you stop doing that?" he asked harshly. She considered for a moment, conveniently forgetting that she had silently sworn to be nicer for a bit, then with a cheerful voice told him 'no'.

"Somebody help me," he grated between clenched teeth.


* * * * *

"Is that her?" Lord Dilandau asked pointing at the girl resting against the base of temple. Miguel Lavariel glanced down and discovered that now the girl was examining her nails as if they held something of interest.

"No, that's another one, Lord Dilandau," he replied subserviently.

"But she's from the Mystic Moon?" the silver-haired leader asked turned his garnet gaze back to his subordinate.

"I haven't had the chance to ask, sir," was his answer.

When a high pitched laugh shattered the night they both turned to glare at the girl. As of then she was giggling crazily as she read something in her journal weapon. She seemed to feel the weight of their gazes and glanced up and waved cheerfully.

"Then why is she here?" Lord Dilandau asked, anger coloring his voice.

"I had no choice, sir." The girl tucked the journal under her arm and began to climb the immense steps to where the two soldiers stood.

"God, this place has way too many stairs," she could be heard muttering as she neared the top.

"We shall talk more of this later, Miguel," Lord Dilandau told him quietly. Miguel had no doubt that they would indeed be discussing it later. With all the blows he had taken from the girl, whatever her name was, it was doubtful that the ones to come would even show. Why, he must be completely black and blue! She and Dilandau were one and the same in that respect, both knew how to hit.

"So we're here, what next?" she asked with cheerful impertinence. Her black hair, with indigo streaks, clung in wisps to her damp temples and neck. The steps had been hard for him because of his injury and not because he wasn't in shape. On the other hand she probably wasn't used to such strenuous activity. Girls just weren't cut out for the hard stuff.

"What is your name, girl?" the leader demanded coldly.

"Girl? I think not, boyo," she told him defensively.

"Just tell him your goddamn name," Miguel hissed, the girl was starting to give him a headache. She gave him a cold look, he noticed her hand clenching the rolled up journal. Slowly he inched away from her.

"My name is Eryn Michail," she replied primly. Lightning fast she whapped Miguel, then hid the object behind her back before Dilandau knew what had happened. She returned his glare with an innocent look.

"Your clothes sure are strange," Lord Dilandau commented, a viciously amused look in his eyes. "Very, very odd."

Miguel barely had time to react as she launched herself at his esteemed leader, wielding her rolled up instrument of pain. He managed grab her, cursing as he pulled the wound in his leg open. She struggled furiously in his grip, twisting and turning like a possessed snake. For a girl she sure was strong as she nearly managed to break free.

"Calm down," he hissed in her ear, tightening his grip, "He'd kill you without a thought." Immediately she ceased moving, demonstrating that there had to be something close to a brain in her small, dyed head.

"I guess that would really suck," she remarked with a sigh. "Sorry." The last was to the somewhat shocked and bemused silver-haired one.

"That one has a temper," he remarked catching Miguel's eye. Beside him the girl, Eryn, began to twitch.

"Should we take her with us, sir?" Miguel questioned, keeping a restraining hand on Eryn's arm.

"Might as well. But if she does anything tie her up," was Lord Dilandau's reply as he jumped gracefully into his Guymelef.

"What?" the energetic girl demanded furiously.

"Oh, and gag her." Miguel nodded cheerfully at the last command. Maybe his day was starting to look up a little.

* * * * *

Wow, okay that's done and in one hour! I hope you like this one as much as the last one. If not I'm sure there's some dark hole I can crawl into and contemplate my sins. Don't ask what they are because that's a secret and if I told you they wouldn't be a secret now would they? Of course not, glad you agree. Now review and feel good that you have contributed to the happiness of a person who has no life and gets giddy whenever she reads a review. *giddy, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*