Now, a rather short update and not so serious and rather mundane. A shadow to the evens that will follow through the events in Las Vegas which wll be just as big as the previous one.
yes, and I know this chapter is absurd but please bare with me ;_;
Intermission/prelude: Arbeit
Las Vegas, like many prominent tourist destinations around the globe, boasts one of the biggest prime time crowds in the world. Hundreds of thousands of people gather in Las Vegas for various reasons. Some sacrifice their monthly salaries to strike that elusive lucky seven, some simply gather to experience the grandeur of its pristine beauty, less the 'oh so familiar' currency tag that often entails the city of greed.
If you aren't convinced, take one look across your hotel window, the picturesque blend of multifarious lights, artistic buildings and colors will form a magical allure that you can never hope to resist. Whatever value people place on their ticket to Las Vegas, you can always be sure of this one universal answer; they're here to have fun. Of course not all population in Vegas takes the entertainments and the thrills as granted. Behind all the superficial beauties that incline tourists, there are those behind the scenes that make all these picture perfect combinations stay in picture.
"Asuka ! One Evanjelly-ON! In table number 32!"
And Asuka is one of them.
"Oh shut up already I already have three orders in line. Don't you have other 'maids' to help out?"
The seemingly mundane request from the French chef was met with a far-fetched, perhaps overboard response from the redheaded mistress. Her dialogue was augmented with a high pitched yell filled with utmost hostility coupled with a hundred dollar check slap on the innocent French chef's cheek.
There wasn't even a single hint of hesitation in that slap. The high pitched shouting filled with pure rage and the 100decibel shockwave that reverberated from the clash of cheeks and hands were of those that reminded people of their first kiss slaps. Her palm was imprinted red on the French chef's cheek, reaffirming the dismal intensity of that one powerful blow.
She stayed motionless there for a while, waiting for the chef to wake up, but after five seconds of silence. She knew it was all in vain. The chef was knocked unconscious; his arm stuck on the kitchen doorknob, barely managing to support the weight of a full grown adult.
In the end she decided to go for plan B. The script itself was perfect, but in the end her anger got the best of her and she lost her chance of a one way ticket out of this humiliating job (I.E bonuses). Well, she's repeated enough of this to see that there's always another way out, she'll have to work a week more in this wretched bar and no-one was going to give a shit about it not after all that bitch slapping antic.
"F…Fine, if you're so desperate enough to kneel before me I'll do it"
Arms across her chest and a big humph! To conclude the sentence and the picture was once again perfect. What followed after that was an enthusiastic roar from the denizens of the bar.
"OH!TSUN…TSUNDERE!"
"ASUKKAAAAA~CHAN!"
000
Such was her role in Vegas; she was entertainment itself and was a notable attraction in her own rights. But as one could see by now she wanted out of this life fast and out. It wasn't always like this though; just a month ago she was your normal average tourist with sights set on striking that lucky seven.
If it wasn't for her annoying, dreaded older sister she could have proceeded to do as she wished. But after witnessing the horror of her account being swept clean of everything, she had no choice but to put everything aside and go for a hopeless job hunt in the middle of this foreign land.
For days she searched in vain. A few days on this arid desert climate was all it took for her complete makeover. Her white T-shirt and blue Levi jeans was drenched in sweat, smeared with mysterious stenches and liquids of various origins unknown, her crimson read hair was starting to lose its marvelous gloss, smudged with industrial smokes and microcosmic dust particles.
She was a poor woman lost in the middle of nowhere. To make it worse, her status as a foreigner with a month limit tourist Visa made all her attempt to score a job virtually void. Everything looked hopeless and there was nothing she could do. Everything reached its peak when her final 25 cent dime was spent on a slot, lost, never to be found again. It was at that moment that she came across this humble looking bar in the middle of the strip.
It's a mystery what led her to this strange eerie looking place. What she's sure of is that her mind wasn't functioning properly when she followed the outlandish looking maids inside this average looking two story building. And luck as she would have it, signaled the start of her career as Asuka, a character from a well renowned anime that she couldn't care less about.
And so Asuka closed the kitchen door, she heard small thud, presumably the sound of the French chef's body dropping down the ground but she couldn't care less because She knew he and the wicked crowds were going to accept that antic of hers with a standing applause.
000
When you're interacting with people with mild masochistic tendencies it's important to keep things under control, give them too much pain and they'll eventually grow to hate it. It's important to balance the ratio between the whip and the carrot. Give them too much carrots and a single whip will chase them away. Give them enough whipping and a single carrot will keep them in your control.
People often think that sadism and masochisms are two things that can never be in tune. What we need to understand is that we are simply born with a little both of both. The equilibrium between these two is so fragile that things that appear to be as insignificant as a gesture of goodwill can upset the balance. All of us have that little bit of masochistic tendencies inside and exploiting that part of us is not as hard as we think it is.
Asuka, a mild sadist herself, excelled in exploiting that masochistic part of us. She knew what the crowd wanted and she delivered with unparalleled proficiency. In a short space of time, she grew to be the main attraction of this... bar…err... café.
"Impressing as always master. Not bad for someone who forced her apprentice who travelled halfway across the world to meet her, on a part time job."
A small nudge on her tight plug suited hip interrupted her and she looked down, below her was a small girl folding her arm across her chest, dressed in an all black, dark ruffle Victorian dress. Her legs were covered with thin white stockings, the white frilled headbands on her long snow white hair, and deep crimson eyes highlighting the voluptuous charm that pretty much defined her outlook. She's always been her sole companion in her various journeys around the world, and now she a colleague of hers in this god forsaken…café.
"Yeah, yeah thanks, now run along with your orders. Money doesn't grow out of nowhere; you of all things should know that. Familiars need prana to subsist and masters have pranas where do we supply our pranas? In foods and beverages we eat. How do we get all those foods and beverages? With Good old bills and tips"
Asuka shunned her and took the plate from a guy behind the door, she only managed to catch a tiny glimpse of the man's figure, he was at least wearing the chef's clothing, so she simply guessed that he wasthe chef's assistant. The guy tried his best to fix his gaze away from her and stuck his body behind the half open door, shivering in defeat. Asuka was only left to wonder about what went wrong.
000
Evanjelly-On! Like many other appetizers sold in this maid café is a fatal mix of sweet sugary ingredients imbued with wicked French touch. The base of this menu is a frozen block of jelly cut, carved and manicured to mimic a robot in an anime called Evangelion.
The work is carved to the finest quality that'd make any similar plastic figurines seem like child's play. The order comes in three colors, red, purple and yellow the one Asuka's holding now was type red. The ON! Part of the name represents the Gibson LTD SG Classic electric guitar the robot's holding on his arms. They claim the guitar symbolizes the soul of that anime though she wasn't sure how an anime that has more about girls' chatting about life had anything to do with an expensive guitar. Although the guitar's not as complex as the body itself, the work is enough to leave anyone drooling on their hands.
However badly she thought of the place she never denied how good and passionate the French chef was with his foods. The only regrettable fact in her opinion was that a talent like that was being wasted on making something as insignificant as a frozen jelly figurine. But such was the world of Otaku subculture, a place where passion and talents are being wasted in terabytes.
"It's charming to see you staying true to that alter ego of yours master but the fact that you're thirty minutes late from the proposed appointment with the Stewart's agents isn't really going to improve our financial positions here."
The white haired girl made a big crease on her eyes and huffed. Asuka though, was pretty much indifferent about her daily agenda.
" Alright alright! Just ten minutes I still haven't reached the daily payroll requirements."
"It wouldn't make much of a difference when we'll be getting ten grand for merely handing a few documents to some insignificant detective agencies."
However when she was done with her master wasn't around anymore to listen to her quarrels. The little girl slapped her eyes and swept her palm off her face.
"…she's hopeless…"
Every day was a continuation of the same and today everything seemed as auspicious as it could be. She'd always curse the café when all the while she was enjoying her experience in this workplace…not that it's supposed to be a good thing by the way.
"Here's your order s…stupid!, enjoy~"
She could already see the customer's face turning red. Surely he wasn't familiar with this exotic experience.
"T…Thanks Asuka-chan mind taking a picture with me?"
The customer was a skinny, geekish white man in short dark hair and freckles on his face that looked to be in his twenties, clad in mundane white Vegas jerseys and auburn short pants. His face was showing signs of resignation and embarrassment, the added hesitation in his tone meant that she had to be act fast. People like these, as her experience has pointed out; were very generous on tips and good tips for a photo shoot meant for good bargain. Before the guy had any chance to change his mind, Asuka instantly replied.
"My pleasure, come here Suiginto you know the drill"
Her familiar sighed and took a digital camera from the pouch on her belt. She took a few pictures of her master and the stupefied customer in various poses together; her familiar's deep sighs managed to get through her ears but she didn't seem to care.
When she was done with it, they found their hands filled with a good 20 dollar bill on each hand.
"Phew, that makes it a good hundred and twenty dollars."
"Shall we move on?"
Said her familiar with her arms on her chest, ignoring the fervent calls from the customers in the background
"Right, my daily payroll requirements reached bills full on our hands I don't see why not."
Little did they know, that only signaled the start of their long, tiring night
000
As they were about to step down to the dressing room behind thekitchen, Thunderous sound of motor engines rang across the streets of Vegas strip. And a string of violent fires and explosion followed suit. Asuka and everyone inside the café turned their eyes outside.
"What the…hell?"
Again, Suiginto slapped her eyes and swept her palm off her face. Her face was turning red after all that slapping but she ignored. Instead, she reminded the master of this very important life lesson they learned today, time is gold and what better punishment is there to that than being hit by an oversized oil truck in the middle of Vegas?
"Master… you do remember what I told you about not being on time do you?"
Asuka's gasp was met with a fitting scene that nigh seemed impossible. There not ten meters away, an oil tank amassed in flame was charging in towards the bar. The surreal scene was greeted with total silence, every single customer inside held their breath. A split second later, it collided in one gigantic explosion.
Through the raging fires and the billowing smoke, a motorcycle and the figure of an orange haired man and a woman clad in red riding it emerged, gracefully flying high above the ruinous remnants of that strange café.
000
Hundreds of thousands of people gather in Las Vegas for various reasons. Some sacrifice their monthly salaries to strike that elusive lucky seven, some simply gather to experience the grandeur of its pristine beauty, less the 'oh so familiar' currency tag that often entails the city of greed while, as we've seen above, some make all these picture perfect combinations stay in picture. There are however some who come for neither of those reasons.
Intermission end.
