Lulu's Bizarre Rebellion

by Ezit Meti

Lelouch Lamperouge was a boy with an ambition; To one day bring down the corrupt nation of Britannia and create a peaceful world for his sister. However, a single arrow gifted him a power that will help him reach his ambition. Stands... Ripple... A feud between two bloodlines that transcends time... And that's only the beginning of this bizarre rebellion!

37. Can't Get No

Disclaimer: Code Geass belongs to Sunrise. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is property of Hirohiko Araki.

Chapter 35: Can't Get No

====Tamaki====

Sitting in your local (albeit rundown) bar, surrounded by friends, boozing it up? Nothing like it in the world. The problem was that Tamaki wasn't surrounded by friends right now. Used to be that some of them would meet up after a fight and raise a toast to the fact they were still alive by killing a few brain cells.

Not so much tonight. Tonight he was leaning on his arm, staring at his drink and not having a laugh with his fellow Black Knights. Nobody had been in the mood for a night out. Laughing and joking. There was nothing in the world boozing it up with your friends. There was also nothing in the world like doing it all by yourself. Thank god for that.

But hey, Tamaki liked this place plenty! I mean, sure, the stools had a bit of a tendency to creak and moan when you put too much weight on one side. And sure, there was this smell that they thought might be one of the regulars but they'd never quite worked out which one. And sure, the beer was probably watered down a scooch because any Eleven trying to run a distillery would be investigated so thoroughly they'd wish it had ended with the cavity search...

Well. He still liked it plenty. In spite of all those faults and all those quibbles. Why? Well, in a spot you couldn't quite see from the front door there was a certain eyesore that doubled as a flag, blue in the four corners, a red cross in the middle with a stupid looking shield in the middle. It was also riddled with holes that happened to coincide with those you might find on a dart board.

"Lousy, stinkin' Britannians!" Tamaki said, not for the first, hundredth or last time. Everyone else in the bar raised a glass as if in sarcastic salute. "Always gotta… Always gotta get in the way when you're tryna help out!" Actually, that punctuation was more intention than reality. In reality, that exclamation mark at the end would be replaced by something denoting an intoxicated hiccup.

"Sounds like Tamaki had to eject early again," someone whispered, though not quite as quietly as they might have intended. Tamaki turned around to glare in the general direction the voice came from. Whoever it was apparently decided to shut the hell up, which was well and good for all concerned. Tsk. Actually, he hadn't had to do any such thing! He'd been there right until the end, and then what do you know?

The main team screwed up anyway! They called for the retreat without capturing Cornelia or anything! Ah! Man, what a load! Here he was busting his butt and they still lose, even though he did absolutely nothing wrong at all!

"Maybe it is your fault," said the voice of a strange man sitting next to him. Huh? Had Tamaki said that out loud? "I mean, you're out here by yourself tonight, right? It's because they all look down on you, making fun of you behind your back. Don't you wonder why that is?"

"Who the hell asked you?" Tamaki grunted. Damn Chinaman shouldn't even be in here anyway, what sort of business has he got in a bar like this?

"I was hoping to meet with your acquaintance Kaname Ohgi," the silver haired man said. His hands clapped beneath the bar. Kind of an annoying nervous tic. Made him look like a doofus. "I almost said friend, but is that really true anymore? Is he really your friend? And what about Naoto's little sister, does she still think of you as a friend after what you did?"

Sometimes a person says something that doesn't quite connect right away. Your brain is still going to need a few seconds to properly translate it. The words, the tone, the context, the meaning. All a great big jigsaw puzzle. This is only brought up here because this was the exact opposite of that kind of occurrence. To Tamaki's - admittedly buzzed - mind, the meaning was pretty crystal clear, but he felt the need to ask the question anyway.

"What are you trying to -"

"I'm trying to say that you're a loser," the Chinaman interrupted, and then launched into a barrage of insults that seemed to come from nowhere, as if plucked from the ether and aimed right at Tamaki's forehead. "A hotheaded, incompetent loser that would do his friends a favour if he stuck to cleaning trash and stayed off the battlefield. I know it. Your friends know it. And deep down so do you. You're just too stupid and stubborn to admit it."

"Ah," Tamaki said in a voice that was a sea of calm in a suddenly very, very quiet bar. He finished the very last drops of his current glass and pushed it, almost reverently, back towards the bartender. "I thought you might be saying something like that."

How strange it might seem, that someone with Tamaki's temper might react so calmly to an insult like that. Indeed. It wasn't a trick. He wasn't hiding it. The trouble was, he was already in a foul mood. What this stranger had done was provoke him. Pushed his temper to the point where it involuntarily cooled. It had come full circle. Anger so hot, it gave frostbite.

In a manner his next movements mirrored his temper. Instead of turning to the left so that he might immediately strike the man that had insulted him so scalpel like precisely, Tamaki turned to the right so that his fist might build up the sufficient momentum. He didn't expect his opponent to hear it coming. After all, those big headphones would obscure peripheral vision, and whatever dumb Chinese music he was listening to -

"It's not dumb," the stranger suddenly said. "It's not Chinese. And it's not music."

Huh? Had he said that out loud?

Now, there are two things you want to keep in mind about throwing a punch. The first is to be really certain you want your fist to connect with what it's being thrown at. For example: That brick wall is probably not an excellent target to hurl your bare fist against. The second is that if you are throwing a punch against something, any kind or shred of hesitation is a disaster waiting to happen.

In this case that hesitation gave the stranger enough time to pivot out of his seat at what felt like the last possible moment, pat Tamaki on the shoulder - Ow! Damn, there must be a needle on that sleeve - and then stride right out the door while Tamaki's fist screamed at him for being such a bloody idiot.

"You're no fun," the stranger said. "You'll break too easily. I doubt they'd even miss you if you were gone. Not even your good pal Ohgi."

"O-Ohgi?" Tamaki seethed, shaking his hand like a snow globe in a vain attempt to get rid of the pain. "What do you want with Ohgi?"

"Ah, nothing. Nothing really! Barman, if I may? I think this customer has had too much to drink. For his own safety, perhaps have someone take him home? It's clear to me that he can barely… Stand."

Which is how he found himself kicked out for starting a fight with a guy that was absolutely asking for it. That guy! How infuriating! Getting blamed for someone else's bad behaviour was the worst. Now Tamaki had nothing more to do than head off home with nothing to do but think. That guy. Calling him an incompetent worthless loser?

"Should've gone cruising for chicks instead of getting booze," Tamaki sniffed. He unlocked the door to his apartment after about five minutes. That wasn't because he was drunk. He was having to use his off hand, because the other one had punched a bar with quite a lot of momentum earlier on, but he wasn't an incompetent loser, okay?

Anyway. He got inside and stumbled in, weary of the world and everyone making fun of him. All the damned time. His destination was the bed. It was a bit earlier than he'd planned to turn in tonight, but he needed a rest. Ejecting early again, in other words.

"Can't get revenge on those rotten Britannians," he said, bed in sight. He trudged towards it as though afraid it might move from under him when he tried approaching. "Couldn't punch that guy's face in. Couldn't hang out with my buds. We still lost when I did nothing wrong." A quick snort of frustration and a roll of his shoulder. "And now my shoulder's acting up 'cause that guy scratched it with something. Just wonderful!"

He flopped onto the bed with all the grace of a swan with a brick tied around its legs, closed his eyes and released that sigh of relief that wasn't really relief. Just another reminder that tomorrow he'd have to put up with more of this nonsense and repeat the cycle over and over again.

"No matter what I do, no matter how I try," Tamaki complained. "I can't get no satisfaction."

And then, at the very moment he fell asleep, a tiny high pitched laugh taunted his sleeping body. It moved around the room quickly, impatiently. As though searching for something where there was nothing to find. Tamaki might not get satisfaction. Satisfaction was going to get Tamaki...

====Lelouch====

Sleep. Everyone must sleep at some point, even the strongest beast and the smartest human. Sleep recharges the body. Sleep cleanses the mind. It is an antidote for the everyday stresses that plague every life, wiping the slate clean and letting us rest, letting us momentarily forget our problems and moving on to the next brand new day.

The trouble is, that sufficiently high levels of stress also serve as an adept antidote for sleep. Therefore, it was a good thing that he happened to know the recipe for a remedy that would set him out like a light.

Take one immortal Ripple master, mix well with a stockpile of annoying personal questions. The rest is inevitable. You'll be up at dawn the next day after the best night's sleep you'd ever had. In point of fact Lelouch had such a good night's sleep that he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror brushing his teeth before he even knew what he was doing. Every other morning recently he had been extremely aware of his every solitary action because he was debating with his body over the benefits of just another five minutes of sleep. Which, if he gave an inch, would inevitably turn into six, which would turn into seven…

Enough of that. It was time to consider the events of yesterday. The debriefing had been… trying. Kallen obviously knew more about his identity than he was comfortable with. However, she had elected not to tell anyone. Furthermore, she and Shirley had taken recordings of his mother's death scene in that bizarre World of C. Couple this with Schizoid Man's attention for detail, and they might catch a clue that wcould have otherwise been missed.

Had they caught Cornelia? No. Had they prevented her from examining the ruins? No. But from his point of view they might have gained data that was extremely valuable. Despite the setbacks and a tactical defeat they had progressed more in a day towards Japan's freedom than the Japan Liberation Front had in seven years and he had gained an unexpected potential lead towards discovering the identity of his mother's killer.

But today? Today he would spend with his dear little sister. He dressed, straightened himself out and strode out towards the dining room fully of actual, honest to goodness zest. And the fact that he was using the word zest within his internal dialogue should be rather indicative of his mood. He felt like he could take on the world and win, which was a very good thing to feel given his plans for the coming year.

In fact, he felt so good today that the only thing he could imagine that might make him feel better was the sound of his sister's sweet, happy and innocent voice -

"And that's when I used my Geass to make it kill itself."

Confessing to murder via irresistible mind control. How strange. The air tasted a little less sweet than it had a few seconds ago. Now, Lelouch is the kind of person that is constantly thinking. He observes his surroundings and the people nearby with great consideration, and uses whatever he notices to reach new facts.

For example: The way C.C. was sitting over there by the table, leaning her head on steepled hands and furrowing her brows in deep, deep thought betrayed the fact that the conversation was sufficiently serious that it could reduce even her level of snark to naught.

But a more pressing example could be found within Nunnally's eyes. You see, one glimpse at his sister's face was enough to tell him that somewhere in this world, there was a person. Lelouch knew next to nothing about this person, perhaps one simple fact that the most basic reasoning led him to know something else. That first fact was, this person had made his sister upset. The second fact was, if that person was still alive they would very shortly wish that they were not.

"Good morning," Lelouch said. "Did I miss something?"

Ah. His sister couldn't even make eye contact with him when he said hello? He tried to crack his knuckles. Failed to manage it. He settled for making a fist and imagining all new horrors he might unleash upon the guilty party. Might, because the possibility existed that he would conjure new horrors to inflict by the time he reached them.

"Well, you can't be planning a surprise birthday party," Lelouch said. "My birthday is in December, and that's still some months away. So, what exactly is going on?"

"It seems as though a previous contractee of mine has decided to pay a visit," C.C. said. "Mao… I never expected him to come out in public."

"So he's a dissatisfied customer?" Lelouch asked. He still didn't quite get a handle on the situation. Nunnally's reactions just now were extremely troubling. More information was required.

"More like the opposite," C.C. said. "He was unable to fulfill the terms of our agreement, and so I left him behind to find someone who could. It seems as though he's come looking for me."

"It seems?" Lelouch asked. Now, he had to carefully control his voice here. He really wanted to raise it. But he couldn't do that. His sister was right there, after all, and she was already more withdrawn than he felt comfortable with. "My sister isn't the kind of person to get upset over something that seems to be true. If you were more honest about yourself, this wouldn't even be a problem to begin with!"

"Honest about myself?" C.C. asked. "With someone that lives under an assumed name? Besides, I truly did believe that Mao would rather remain in seclusion than venture out into crowded areas."

Prefer to live in seclusion? So he's shy… No, that didn't fit. The way she said it made it seems as though it was something he wouldn't be able to get over so easily. This witch! What had her former contractor done?

"If he formed a contract with you, I suppose that means he must also have a Geass," Lelouch observed. "What is it, and how does it function?"

"It allows him to read thoughts," C.C. casually stated. "Unlike your sister, it doesn't require eye contact. If he concentrates, he can even read thoughts down to the subconscious, up to about five hundred meters away. The only problem is, he used it so much that he can't switch it off."

"And what about my sister?" Lelouch asked. "This contract you forced her into in a desperate situation… I never trusted it from the start! From the very start you've been mysterious and - "

Before he could say the word obstinate, a gentle hand fell over the top of his furiously trembling fist. Extraordinary, wasn't she? Without saying a word, his sister drained the anger and frustration from his body with only that little touch. Instead of a raging inferno, his soul was a blazing blizzard. Calming him down. Settling it all into concentrated frustration at the perplexing mystery sitting in front of him. An immortal girl made more of questions than matter.

Questions that, to his great frustration, would have to wait for another time. Strategically speaking he would be better focused on drawing out the information he could get here and now, then use that to deduce the rest later. So with that in mind:

"What exactly happened?" Lelouch asked. Yes, that was the smartest point to start with. His imagination was running riot with possibilities, but until he knew for certain the nature of what had upset his sister any action or word might make things worse instead of better.

"There was a Stand," Nunnally said, her voice very quiet and very, very tired. "It was threatening the council members. Suzaku, Milly, Rivalz, Nina and… And Arthur. The only way to keep everyone safe was to kill it."

Kill it? Nunnally killed it? It made him think back. His reaction to killing Clovis after the fact, even though it had been in self defence, even though he thought himself psychologically prepared to take the lives of anyone standing in his way he had still felt ill the next day. For his sister to experience that feeling, taking the life of another sentient being

"You had no choice," Lelouch said, grasping her hands and hoping he could somehow reflect the effect she had on him back into her. "Even if Mao sent that person here, for them to threaten innocent people… There's nothing wrong with acting in self defense."

And moments later, Lelouch realised he'd fallen into the same trap he'd been trying to avoid. The thing Nunnally had enjoyed doing the most after her eyesight was returned was looking at Lelouch in the face. So why was she turned away right now? Looking at the floor in shame.

"The original Stand user was already dead," Nunnally said. "Oh, Lelouch! On the one hand, I feel terrible that the Stand had to die, but given the circumstance part of me wishes I could have killed it sooner! That way maybe Sophie… Maybe I could have saved her, somehow from that rampaging Stand!"

"This is the key difference between Geass and that power," C.C. said. "A Geass user will be able to control their power at first, but with time it will become more powerful until they eventually lose control." She seemed to sink down slightly into her seat. "On the other hand, those that gain access to that which has no place in this world will lose control immediately, if ever. Should this happen then it will kill them."

"That's what must have happened to Mao and to Sophie," Nunnally said. "Sophie… She didn't deserve that." Like a switch was flipped, Nunnally suddenly looked back up, right into his eyes. "You should go and see Shirley," Nunnally said. "Sophie was her roommate in the dorms, right? Especially considering what happened with her father…"

"Hey now, Shirley's tougher than you think," Lelouch said, and you know, he would never have expected that she would've been the sort to tear a Knightmare apart with the psychic projection of her fighting spirit. Then again he should know better than anyone. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover. "She managed to tough through her father's death pretty well -"

"Lelouch, I didn't mean his death," Nunnally said. "Didn't you see the news?"

"What news?"

"Her father was brought back as a werewolf and tried to kill his uncle."

Ah. Now, this created quite the dilemma for our brilliant tactician. On the one hand, the idea of leaving his sister when she was transparently wracked with guilt on multiple fronts had all the taste and texture of eating a prune juice soaked pinecone. On the other hand, as stated before: Schizoid Man was entirely capable of tearing a Knightmare apart, or punching it into the scrapheap. This was fine. This was good. This made it an extremely useful ally in a fight.

It was also entirely/partially dependant on her subconscious mind, and Lelouch wasn't entirely certain which side of that forward slash he preferred. Either way letting that kind of raw power be controlled by someone that was still in the midst of their grieving process who had just lost a dear friend because they weren't there to help out?

Ora ora ora, and there goes a wall, here come people asking questions about how that happened, and then from there everything falls apart as dots start connecting. Leading to him and Nunnally being discovered, and from there -

No! His sister is still dealing with the guilt of everything that just happened, and C.C. still has to answer for what she's done here, for what she's still not admitted to. He couldn't leave her alone at a time like this, and there was nothing in the world that could -

Nunnally tilted her head and smiled at him. Then, she said "Lelouch, I would like to see Shirley, if that's alright. I was wanting to apologise for… For what happened, and try to explain -"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Nunnally said. "And besides, I'm sure she's feeling even worse about all of this than I am. That's why I won't be able to rest until I know she's alright as well."

His sister might have the power of absolute command due to the contract she formed with C.C. but where her big brother was concerned she never, ever needed it. Even though he wanted to stay by her side more than anything right now, if she wanted him to go then... "Alright then," he said. "If that would make you happy. I'll be back with her before you know it."

And off he ran. Nunnally had sweetly asked him to do a thing, then by god that thing would be done! If it might help her cheer up after such a traumatic experience, he would go so far as to fetch her the moon if she asked for it.

Although, after he left…

====Nunnally====

She wanted him to stay. She dearly, desperately wanted him to stay. At a time like this she needed his presence, his comfort and his assurance more than she needed the air she was breathing. What she did not need however was his anger and his suspicion and his guilt for not being there to help keep them safe.

"Well then," C.C. said, placing a glass full of water on the table in front of her. "What was that about if I might ask? You didn't just send him away because you wanted him to spend time with his girlfriend did you?"

"If I answer your question," Nunnally said, dipping her pinky finger into the water. Cold, but not ice cold. "Will you answer mine?"

"That would depend on the question," C.C. replied. "If I don't know the answer, then I can't promise that I will. And if I don't feel like answering, then I won't. So choose your question well."

Air flowed in through the lungs. It was amazing when you really think about it. People do it all the time. Breathing in. Breathing out. Yet most people do it completely wrong. Nunnally could feel the air passing into her lungs, could feel her body generating the mysterious Ripple energy C.C. was teaching her how to master, could feel that same energy dissipate into the glass and from there -

Her response was another lesson, then. Choose your questions with care. Word them precisely. While the water began to crawl up the back Nunnally's hand in a steady stream, she did exactly that. Consider her words with care and consideration, and then -

"I sent him away because I wanted him to calm down," Nunnally admitted. "He was feeling tremendously guilty because he wasn't here to help us, and angry at you for keeping things from us. This will give him time to think things through and react in a more positive manner."

"Well then," C.C. said. "I can certainly see the family resemblance a lot more clearly now."

Now Nunnally grabbed the glass with her other hand, but using only the tips of her fingers. The water in the glass began to swirl and rise, before the surface settled. But the water was still rising, being pulled up the sides in a uniform manner, save for a single hole in the middle around where her pinky had been where air was being sucked into the bottom to prevent the creation of a vacuum beneath the water. Needless to say, this took a lot of concentration. One mistake could completely ruin the effect she was trying to master.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"You both care about each other more than for your own good. Do watch your breathing, you're about to spill water all over the table."

"What about you?" Nunnally asked, letting the water fall back into the glass. She was right. The pressure in the glass was building a little faster than she'd intended. "Do you care about what we need? Or, are you trying to manipulate us into getting what you want?" She placed her hand over her left eye, then moved it as if she'd intended to just scratch her eyebrow. "Will I become like Mao?"

"I will not allow any harm to befall you," C.C. promised. "Or your brother, as he is your reason for living. And in your case, if you should lose control over your Geass I can at least offer a measure of protection. Now then. Let us put those issues aside. Would you like me to tell you what you did incorrectly?"

"I would like that," Nunnally said. "You can start by telling me what I did to make Nina hate me so much."

====Lelouch====

Back to Lelouch, his body was reminding him of the rather crucial fact that running was not a thing he liked doing when a pleasant leisurely walk would probably suffice. His mind disagreed, pointing out that at any second something terrible might happen and besides which he should really be getting back to Nunnally as soon as possible, to which his body responded, don't forget which of us is actually in control over our pain receptors here. Case in point, ow, ow, ow! Slow down a little and catch some breath and I'll cut that out.

Thus it was that he lumbered into the girl's dorm drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. This is not, some might note, a tremendously great impression for a visiting boy in this place to make upon the occupants while passing by. It might put certain ideas in their head. The sort of ideas that were usually put there by a certain someone that will remain nameless even though we already know exactly who we're talking about anyway.

"Oh, ho! It looks like Mister Eligible Batchelor over there is finally at the end of his rope."

"I guess even he could only hold back the urges for so long…"

"How romantic!"

Note to self: At first available opportunity, circumvent all relevant gossip churning through the rumour mill. Or better yet invent something even more juicy for them to fixate on than his nonexistent sex life. Nonexistent was perfectly fine by him as it was because where physical intimacy was concerned he was not especially comfortable with.

Then again, maybe this idle gossip was their distraction from -

Anyway! He'd arrived at Shirley's dorm. With a group of girls peeking around the corner with anticipation in their eyes, and hope swelling within their hearts. Tsk! Ignore them. Gossiping busybodies that were probably going to report back to that certain person and spread it all over the school! Lelouch knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing.

The hall was too bright for him to turn the wall or door invisible, meaning his only recourse was to send Painted Black directly into the room - No, from this angle those girls were able to see his shadow, meaning that if it moved in a way that wasn't natural one of them might notice, which could cause problems . Therefore the best approach for him to take would be to cause some kind of distraction, and move Painted Black inside the room…

"Am I really that interesting?" he asked the girls, turning towards them, and moving to lean against the side of the wall. Perfect, they wouldn't be able to see his shadow from here! He sent it inside the room. No sign of her. So where was she? "You girls must have better things to do than stare in wonder at council related business. Right?"

"Right!" said a voice standing behind him. Shirley? "Go ahead! Clear off, shoo and tell Milly to stop spreading rumours already! Hmph! And you should maybe try not being so flirty with them to start with."

This was promising. She was behaving normally. Judging from the dampness in her hair, she must have been swimming. A normal routine is the sign of a healthy mind. In that case he was probably worried over nothing. Even so...

She unlocked the room and shoved him inside without a word. So he started instead.

"I heard about what happened to Sophie," he said. "I'm sorry. We will find whoever was -"

"Despicable," Shirley said. Now, Lelouch was the sort of person to pay attention to the little details. In this instance, Shirley's posture shifted. Her back stiffened, her eyes developed a sharp edge to them. In an instant it was as if an entirely different person was standing in her place. "A cowardly, craven attack! Using others to deliver death and injury to the innocent! Deliberately causing unnecessary collateral damage! Creating conflict against those that cannot fight back!"

Behind her, Lelouch could see Schizoid Man manifesting menacingly. Its arms were folded. Its normally jester-like face cast in a stern mould. This was not the reaction he'd been expecting. Nevertheless, what she was saying made sense to him.

"I agree," he said. "A tactic like this could only be used by a criminally insane sadist."

"Then they are our enemy," she said in reply. "We must track them down at once! Whoever they are, whatever they are planning they shall not - Not… Not believe what's happened! Oh, Lelouch!"

Shirley dove into him in a great big hug, burst into tears, and would you believe by sheer coincidence that the door happened to knock just at that very same second? The door opened and in popped the head of Milly Ashford, timely as ever.

"Oh ho?" said the dirty old man trapped in the body of a young woman. "Well, what do we have here? Should I leave the two of you alone for a few more minutes?"

"No, no! That won't be necessary," Lelouch replied rather more hastily than he might have intended. "Besides, this hardly seems like the right time for dirty jokes given what…"

Under normal circumstances, Milly Ashford was the kind of person that would let no innuendo go unmolested. The number of things in this world that could make her stop was vanishingly small. That list clearly included a deep personal tragedy just like this one. Her usual demeanour was far less energetic and outgoing than usual.

"I'm sorry," Milly said. "I know you've been through a lot lately… That's why I came here to tell you, It's been decided that you're being given an extended leave of absence."

"That's really not necessary," Shirley said. "But thank you so much! I don't know what I'd do if… If it wasn't for all of your support. Especially yours, Lulu!"

"Hey, think nothing of it," What was with this change in attitude all of a sudden? Before, when it was just the two of them, she'd been expressive and bombastic. "It's the least I could do, like Milly said you've been through a lot lately." Then the second before Milly arrived she completely drops it, and even Schizoid Man vanishes? This might be actually worse than he was expecting.

"Aw, it's really great to see your romantic side finally come out, lover boy," Milly giggled. It sounded fake. Compared to her usual infectious cheer it sounded hollow, nervous. An attempt to compensate for the bad atmosphere. Distracting herself. Just like those other girls out in the hall. "Sadly, I do still need to spend a little time with her. Even something like this is going to need at least a little paperwork to fill out, you know how it goes."

"Right! Those bureaucrats have to have some way to justify their wages."

"And that's why I want you to head back to the council room to justify their wages even more," Milly said. "Don't worry, I'll console her in your absence. I'll even be hands off about it, as hard as I'm sure that will be."

"H-Hey! Didn't Lelouch say this wasn't the time for those kinds of jokes?"

"Who's joking?"

Funny thing. At this point he'd encountered some truly terrifying Stands, with Stand masters that bordered on megalomania and psychopathic behaviour. Yet somehow Milly Ashford continued to find ways to scare him with just a few chosen words. From the very start that was probably her intention: Distract them from the shadow of death lingering around the academy walls.

"Alright. Shirley, we'll talk more about that matter later on. As soon as you're done here, please go and talk to my sister. She was also concerned about your wellbeing."

"Okay, sweetie! I'll try to get this over with quickly."

Lelouch left the room and began to walk back towards the council building with more tumultuous thoughts than he was expecting after that night's sleep. He'd already picked up several facts that troubled him. A mind reading Geass user from C.C.'s past with his own Stand arrow. That they'd used it to give Sophie a lethal Stand. The possibility that Nunnally might lose control over her own Geass one day. That Joseph had risen from the grave as a werewolf, forcing Shirley's uncle to fight him. And, of course, that Shirley herself…

What was happening with her? Had his efforts to stabilise her mind backfired? Had the character he'd had her perform with his instructions overtaken her real personality? Was the mask no longer Zero, but Shirley? This situation… He'd taken her childish crush on him and used it to forge her into a weapon. Did he have the right to be so concerned for her now when he had been so careless before?

Then there was Nunnally to concern himself with. Her wellbeing. He couldn't trust C.C. to do this alone, and Suzaku had already been present during the incident to start with. Her Geass and Ripple training might help in a pinch, but relying on just those - She was still confined to a wheelchair, her capacity for self defense was extremely limited even with those abilities.

After he got rid of Mao, Lelouch's next objective would require him to place those he cared for the most into considerable protection. Capturing Kamine was not an option for the time being. Therefore he was going to have to -

"Good morning Lelouch!"

"Good morning Kallen!" he replied. Ah, and here was another issue he would have to resolve. Kallen's Stand appeared above her. It then bowed in a mocking manner, and said "Your highness," with a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wonderful. Now he would have to hold two conversations simultaneously with the same person. The first between their Stands, and the second for the benefit of everyone else around them. Because his morning wasn't complicated enough as it was.

"So now you know," Painted Black wrote in the shadows. While in his own voice, he said aloud "You've heard what happened, then?"

"A little," Kallen answered, while her Stand said. "Yes, I do. What of it, your highness?"

"The real question is, what do you intend to do now?" "I see. We'll probably be talking about it at the council meeting." "Now that you know who I really am, do you still trust me?"

"No, I can't." "From the sound of things they'll have to increase the security measures around school. Another Stand attack… Another student killed because of something stupid." "You've been manipulating us all this time, hiding your identity. How can I trust you after that?"

Well, well. The image of a mysterious green haired witch flashed through his mind upon hearing that response. So this was what it was like to be on the other side of that? How inconvenient.

"Are you dissatisfied with the power I have given you?" he asked through the shadows. "The power to fight back against the enemies of Japan hovers above you, thanks to me."

"I understand that fine," JJF replied. "Just like I'm starting to understand your real motivation. After all, it's just like you said. I understand the meaning of losing family to Britannian cruelty as well. That's why… The Black Knights must remain intact, even though you are the only reason."

"Then you lied to me as well. You do trust me. Otherwise, you would have told the Black Knights what you discovered." "And how are you feeling? I heard that you were off sick during all this."

To his partial surprise, Kallen turned away from him. He had to credit her performance skills. Being able to blush on command was quite impressive.

"Yeah, but I'm better now," she said. "You really are full of it! I don't even know why I'm following a pompous Prince like you!" "But never mind that. What should we be doing next?"

"Do you mean at school, the Black Knights or both?"

Her response was a wicked glare. Both it was.

"I wouldn't be surprised if some students started heading back to the homeland," Lelouch mused. "I expect there will be a more permanent military presence on the campus…" "Perhaps Suzaku… If I gave him a Stand he could more effectively protect the council."

"You mean, your sister."

"I mean the council."

"Good… Just making sure. Not that I especially care about them or anything."

My, my Kallen. Denial over your new unexpected friends? It can be a difficult lesson for the downtrodden to learn, that racism was not a one way street. How gratifying to see that one who has as good a reason to hate Britannia as himself might learn that lesson well. How sweet.

"Hey, guys!" Ah, and here was one of those new friends now. Rivalz, running towards them. "Oh wow, you missed out on a heck of a time!"

"Yes I know," Lelouch said. "We'll continue this later." "It sounds like you all had a really bad time."

"Poor Sophie," Kallen whispered. Again, that performance was top notch. So demure compared to her actual forthright personality. "Are there any leads on what happened to her?"

"I'm afraid you'd have to ask Suzaku about that," Rivalz said. "He's in charge of the investigation."

"An Honorary has been put in charge of an investigation like this?" No, that didn't make any sense. The Britannian military would never put someone in Suzaku's position in charge of an investigation of who stole the last biscuit, never mind a Stand related murder case. Then again, this did give him avenue to manipulate the investigation and discover more facts he could use… "That's a little unorthodox, but good for Suzaku. Did he receive another promotion?"

"You didn't hear?" Rivalz asked. "What?! Didn't you see the news?"

He pushed the pair of them into the common area and rushed for the television like a man possessed. "It's all over the news! Ever since it's happened, it's all anyone can talk about!"

The television flickered to life, revealing one of those Britannian sponsored talk panels. The ones where a single dissenting viewpoint was invited to the table specifically so that it could be dismantled by the others, creating the impression that their single view was nonsense to be ignored. Just more useful propaganda… Which could also be useful in determining what the Holy Empire wanted its sheep to dream tonight while sleeping in comfort.

"Before we get to the main point, I want to know who thought giving an Honorary permission to pilot an experimental Knightmare was a good idea! It goes against all standing procedure."

"According to our resources Kururugi excelled on all physical performance tests, and was granted special permission to -"

"Gentlemen, please! The point of the matter is, even after discovering that he was an Eleven it seems as though Princess Euphemia intends to make Suzaku Kururugi her Knight of Honour."

… Say that again?

The scene shifted from the table to an outside venue, an overhead shot showing that irritating white Knightmare that had interfered in Shinjuku and during his first encounter with Cornelia. Another pest he intended to sweep aside at the first opportunity. So they'd repaired it this quickly?

On the screen, Euphemia was addressing people looking out the window of a nearby hospital, standing amidst carnage with regal integrity that, itself was another fine performance. The real Euphemia was more akin to the performance Kallen put on. How amusing to think that in a roundabout way, in public they were pretending to have one another's personalities.

"I present to you all, the man that will soon be my knight, Warrant Officer Suzaku Kururugi!"

"Pretty huge, huh?" Rivalz chuckled, oblivious to the implications that had just appeared out of thin air. "Man, I never would have guessed it if I hadn't seen it." Suzaku. Why did it have to be… ? "There's even some speculation going around online that the two of them are even an item, and this is their way of making it official." But if he's protecting Euphemia, then how could he also protect Nunnally at the same time? "I guess that might explain why she kept on showing up around us. She was trying to sneakily meet up with him. But that's just a rumour."

"Excuse me," Kallen said. "I suddenly don't feel all that well. I need to lie down for a few minutes."

"Sure thing! I think Nunna's in the next room, so I'm sure she'll try to cheer you up in no time at all!"

Nunnally… This completely changed all of his plans for keeping her safe! Until he'd figured out some way to keep her out of this he couldn't take the next step forward. He had no choice. He didn't want to rely on them so much, but the Speedwagon Foundation… They might be his only possibility at this point.

"Hey, buddy! Snap out of it," Rivalz said. "Listen, it was a shock to us as well, but your sister really saved our bacon. You should've seen her, she reminded me of you when you were putting the finishing touches on some especially arrogant noble." He sighed sadly. "Man, I just wish… I just hope that Suzaku finds the punk responsible for this before they do something else, before things get any worse than this."

"Worse than this?" Lelouch a quarter sobbed, three quarters chuckled. It was the only way he could express it now. The anger. The frustration. Building up and mounting. Forcing him to change his plans. Again! "Yes, I can think of a few ways it could get worse than this! Perhaps the Chinese Federation will decide these Stand users are a threat to their security, and move to take over. Or maybe a council member will develop a Stand , or vampires might swarm the ghettoes. Yes, I'd say a situation like that would be about as bad as things could -"

"And now we go to Viceroy Cornelia, who was asked last night regarding the Sub-Viceroy's decision for a Knight of Honour."

"It is a Princess' sole responsibility to select their personal Knight," Cornelia said. Her brow furrowed. As though she was thinking about something else other than her spoken words. "Therefore, I have no official comment regarding her decision, beyond this: The date of the ceremony will be two days from today. Under normal circumstances we would have made it much sooner, but new security concerns -"

But at this point Lelouch tuned out what she was saying and paid much more attention to Cornelia's hands. Her fingers, in particular. Index and middle, pressed tightly together and tapping at her brow. He recognised that gesture on sight. It was all a part of their "body language code". A simple gesture, that spoke an entire complete sentence:

"We need to talk in private."

"Oh, by the way that reminds me," Rivalz said. "The art club was looking for a volunteer. They need a still life subject to volunteer for them, and all they have to do is sit perfectly still and - Hey, that's the stuff! Stay exactly as still as that, and that'd be perfect. Don't think much of the facial expression, a little too stressed out but, I'll fix it up into a smile in no time flat…"

====Joseph====

You know, if there's any one place that someone partially responsible for funding a large scale vigilante group should hate to find themselves it would have to be a government interrogation room. Even a clean-tiled one like this. All the surfaces were flat, shiny and spotless. The floor was nice and tiled. The table had a thin protective layer all over it, and was bolted to the floor. Why, it rather left Joseph with the impression that the room was designed to be easily cleaned up in case some sort of mess was made that might hit the walls, ceiling and floor.

Well, well. If they thought they could intimidate Joseph Joestar then they were adopting the completely wrong strategy. If anything his wit, cunning and irresistible personality would allow him to run rings around even the most stern, serious and brutal interrogator in no time -

"Hello Mister Joestar," said the voice of Suzaku Kururugi, who stepped through the door carrying a folder and wearing a slightly smarter than normal uniform. "I apologise for the inconvenience, we had to get the finer details of paperwork in order before I could begin."

Him? This boy? This Honorary Britannian was going to be his interrogator? Ohoh! This might be even better than Joseph had expected! He ran his hand up his forehead and smoothly slid from his cool standing and waiting position into a relaxed seated posture.

"I'm surprised," Joseph said. "They are allowing you to question me today? My, how the world is changing! Hrm?" He leaned over the desk and looked the Japanese boy right in the eye. To his credit, Suzaku didn't flinch or even blink. "No offense meant, but an Honorary questioning a wealthy Britannian? A few months ago, I would have laughed at that absurdity."

"It was a request of Eup- the Sub-Viceroy," Suzaku said. Oho, a slight tinge on the cheeks there while shuffling the papers? He was nervous. Another opening to exploit, another weakness to get Joseph out of here with minimal trouble. "She felt that questioning a friendly witness would give me the experience I might need in future, in case I need to interrogate someone again."

"How forward thinking of her highness," Joseph said. "In more ways than one." Well then. This wouldn't require any particularly brilliant strategy to deal with. He was being questioned as a witness, rather than a suspect. In that case Suzaku wouldn't need to do anything particularly harsh. Not that the boy would be the sort to engage in that kind of action anyway…

"To begin with," Suzaku said. "This is the second Stand related incident you have been directly involved with."

"You have been involved in more than two, if I remember correctly."

"Yes," Suzaku agreed. "But I'm military. Almost every incident was on duty. You are a civilian. While I think there's probably a good reason you were the first to encounter the werewolf, it might make you look suspicious. For the record, please tell me what happened."

Heh. This really was a novice investigation. An open ended question like that to start off with? Such a basic strategy. Suzaku might as well have handed Joseph a signed blank cheque. At this point he could say almost anything he wanted, and lead Suzaku on a merry little chase, never giving away his involvement with the Black Knights or other… sensitive information. No threats, no pain, no raised voices, nothing to make Joseph -

But that thought made his mouth snap shut. Yes, this was a rather relaxed conversation, wasn't it? When you thought about it, torture was a barbaric way to extract information from an unwilling person. More than that, it was a terribly inaccurate way to get it. A person being tortured will eventually say absolutely anything to get it to stop - and that something may well not be the truth at all.

On the other hand. You didn't need to be cruel to get a person to answer your questions. Kindness was a far more beneficial extraction technique. Become friends with the prisoner. Establish that you want to help them. Make an emotional connection. Imply that you already know the information you are after, and merely want confirmation. Without even realising it a prisoner will reveal things they never would have normally as a simple matter of psychological pressure!

"Are you alright Mister Joestar?" Suzaku asked with genuine (sounding) concern. "I'm sorry, I know this must be difficult for you. We are aware that the werewolf was actually your recently deceased brother-in-law, possessed by a Stand. I understand if you're having difficulty talking about it."

Genuine empathy and compassion! The fiend! Suzaku stood up and wandered over to a water cooler in the corner where he filled up a cup while continuing to talk. "Some people might find your family's presence at numerous incidents suspicious," Suzaku said. "I believe there is probably a rational explanation. That's why, even though I know this is difficult… Please, try to tell us whatever you know."

The cup was placed down in front of himself. Under normal circumstances a cup of water being placed in front of Joseph Joestar was like putting a gun to your own head. But in this instance the water held a far more sinister purpose! Joseph watched Suzaku calmly talking his seat with sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. This level of strategy was beyond expectations!

He - He had given Joseph a cup of water to help calm his nerves! Oh my god!

"There's only one reason I can think of," Joseph said. He stopped to take a mouthful of water while keeping a careful eye on his no longer underestimated enemy. "It's because Stand Out were forcing my idiot brother-in-law to obey them by using that werewolf Stand! They must have warned him that if he did anything to betray them it would possess him and make him go on a rampage." Joseph crossed his arms and turned angrily away. "He never did have any imagination for this sort of thing! Making my sister cry because he couldn't think of a way out…"

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what you're saying," Suzaku politely objected. "How did you know, specifically, how they were threatening him?"

"Hrm? Oh, I just worked that out somehow," Joseph said, making a big show of scratching his head. "I guess it makes sense given everything that's happened. I can't believe someone like Joseph would go along with something like this on his own free will."

"Well, an old friend of mine did used to call me a fool," Suzaku said. Ah, how clever! Putting the idea into Joseph's head in an attempt to make him underestimate this strategy! "Maybe that's why it doesn't make much sense to me? Unless there's something you're missing out. For example, perhaps you met someone that could read minds, and they clued you in."

Joseph lowered his head in defeat… Or at least it was intended to seem that way. Actually he was hiding the smile growing on his face. Hehehehe… Now Suzaku, you thought you were being clever. You thought you had lulled Joseph Joestar into a false sense of security by pretending to be his friend! Hardly! Misdirection meant more than simply sleight of hand. It meant controlling "where your audience was looking" at any given time. Joseph hadn't fallen into your interrogation trap! You had fallen into his!

"There was… A Chinese man in the graveyard," Joseph admitted. "From the way he behaved it seemed as though he could read minds, just like you said. Both mine, and the Stand that possessed the other Joseph. I deduced everything based on what he was saying." A little bit of deliberate shuffling around uncomfortably in his seat for show.

"Chinese..." Suzaku said, digesting the new information. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

"Because he threatened to reveal devastating personal information," Joseph said. "About me, and my family. If we had asked for help, that is. You can understand that, can't you?"

"Can you be more specific on the information he would reveal? I appreciate that it might be private, but some people might find that lack of information suspicious."

"The personally humiliating kind," Joseph calmly replied. Heh. He was already two steps ahead of you! You fool! You thought you had seen an opening in his defence, but the truth was you had been led to it by Joseph's cunning! "Deep rooted insecurities, psychological trauma, erotic fantasies, embarrassing childhood tales." He shrugged for effect. "Need I go into specifics?"

"They'll just say he must have threatened you with something specific," Suzaku said. "While I understand what you mean, my superiors will still want to know more details."

Your superiors? They were the ones that wanted to know? Hmm? Was that true, Suzaku Kururugi? Lelouch was only half right about your personality, where he described you as stubborn! But you're a more cunning adversary than your dumb expression lets on.

But you made one critical mistake in your strategy and judgement: You underestimated how cool Joseph Joestar was in a crisis!

"Oh, it's nothing too big," Joseph said. "But it is a little bit embarrassing to talk about. Hahaha! You know how the media is, they love to blow things out of all proportion, silly little things!"

"Yes, I do understand," Suzaku said. "What specifically?"

"Our new intern, of course!" Joseph said. Now, this tactic was risky, Suzaku Kururugi! If Joseph has judged your character type correctly you would not want to drop your friend in it. Now would you? "He said that he was going to cause a scandal for the SWF by implicating my dear, sweet niece's boyfriend in some kind of attention grabbing scandal. Something to do with nepotism and favouritism, even though that boy is already showing he's a smart worker."

"I see." Now he was turning his mind around this new information. Just like Joseph thought. You didn't want to risk exposing your friend, so you're trying to weasel out of this line of questioning. You can't even pursue it if you wanted to, because it would also implicate yourself as well. This offset the various inherent risks to this strategy to make the benefit ultimately worthwhile! "Was there nothing else? That sort of matter seems rather trivial overall."

"Ah!" Joseph gasped in mock defeat. "You've cornered me now, Suzaku! I did not want to admit it, but I have sinned and you have caught me out! A miniscule tax dodge to help pay for my worldly travels. Hardly something the military would care for, but if it became public knowledge... Would something leave your superior's curiosity sated?"

"Yes, that should satisfy anyone that wants to know," Suzaku said. Aha! Was that the sweet sigh of recognised defeat in the face of a superior enemy Joseph could hear? " Please describe the suspect. We believe this man might be connected to a related incident, and - "

"You won't get him like that," Joseph warned. "Try to remember! He's a mind reader, and he's not stupid. If he notices people looking for him, he'll just change the most noticeable parts of his appearance. That's what makes fighting someone like this so dangerous. No matter how clever your strategy, he'll already know it before you can even do anything."

"That's amazing," Suzaku said. "You've taken that in your stride. You've managed that much tactical analysis already?"

And more besides. For example, Joseph knew exactly who Suzaku should be interrogating if he wanted more answers about this mind reader. Once he had that information to hand, well…

Ah, but wait! Was that another attempt to simultaneously develop an emotional attachment to Joseph while trying to make him slip up and make some kind of mistake? Even when you think the battle is won you should never let your defenses down, in case your opponent tries for one last grab! In that case his next move should be...

"He's a little over six foot and has silver hair," Joseph said, resting back in his chair and putting his feet up on the table. "Both of his eyes have freaky pupils, so he wears a visor to keep them hidden. Other than that I expect he'll probably change his clothes. It probably won't be enough to find him easily, but I'd rather you kept him too busy hiding rather than causing mischief."

"Thank you," Suzaku said. "It should also be enough to keep anyone from blaming you or your family for what has happened. I can see no more reason to keep you here. I'll go and ask for permission to let you leave."

"And ask them how you did for your very first interrogation!" Joseph called out. And so departed a worthy adversary. My, my Suzaku! The way you had been behaving up until this point and the way in which Lelouch had described you, it had seemed as though you were a great deal stupider than this. Oh, but Joseph understood that rather well. It's the truly smart man that knows to play the fool, to make everyone underestimate until the critical moment!

Except that on this occasion triumph rested in the hands of Joseph Joestar! In spite of all your manipulative tricks, you weren't able to get him to give the slightest trace of evidence connecting him to the Black Knights. What was more you would now be sending out soldiers in search of that sneaky mind reading bastard, which would keep him on his toes long enough for a proper plan to be set up to bring him down. You were an expert manipulator, Suzaku Kururugi and very nearly bested him, but Joseph Joestar triumphs again!

Just outside, in the corridor, Suzaku was approached by Miss Cecile for a conversation that Joseph absolutely did not hear.

"How do you think it went?" she asked.

"Quite well," Suzaku said. "He seemed eager to help out."

"You sound relieved."

"I am. It just goes to show; If you're honest and forthright with someone, they will do the same for you. He even confessed to certain embarrassing financial matters, just to help me write an impressive looking report."

"You have a remarkable talent for bringing out the best in people."

"Please, Miss Cecile," Suzaku blushed. "Mister Joestar is an amazing man. Aside from this minor financial blip, he's the very model of a loyal Britannian citizen."

====Tamaki====

Something bounced on top of his pillow next to head, echoed by high pitched, squeaky laughter. In his sleep, Tamaki raised his hands as though warding off flies. For some reason the laughter seemed to find that especially amusing and laughed louder, deeper and more echoey. However, Tamaki's desire to sleep stayed unimpressed and bade him roll over, which turned out to be a lousy instinct to follow as an unexpected force tumbled him out of bed and onto the hard, rather less designed for sleep surface known as a floor.

"Wha?" he sleepily called out into the darkness, as if expecting an answer. Surprisingly he got one in the form of a high pitched squeaky laughter. "Who is that?" he demanded, seizing hold of the nearest object he could grab to hand and wielding it threateningly above his head. The effect was unfortunately rather marred by the fact that the nearest object to hand turned out to be his pillow.

His eyes had by now adjusted to the darkness, and he scanned the room in search of the source of that bizarre, taunting yet strangely melodious cackle. Instead he found himself noticing something else entirely. All over the place. His eyes darted around like a trapped animal. They were all over the place! On every surface he could see! The floor, the ceiling, the walls, the furniture. In fact, his bed had them as well, with the only gap he could see being from where he had been lying down not a minute before.

They were strange. They were inexplicable. They were irrational. They were - They were -

"Dotted lines?!" Tamaki yelled. "All over my apartment! Aw, hell! If this is some kid's idea of a joke, just wait until I get my hands on them! What'd they do, come in here with a marker pen? This'll take forever to clean up! Who the hell even does a thing like -"

On the other side of the bed, an "S" appeared. As in, the letter S. A three dimensional letter S, about ten centimetres tall and half again deep. It twisted and turned, giving Tamaki the impression it was carefully looking at him, then bent backwards and - somehow - whistled.

At which point, the S was joined by several friends in quick succession, each of which hopped up onto the bed right next to the last with a little noise that didn't actually form words, but would be what "ta-da" sounded like if a puppy or a kitten tried to express it. Each letter was of the same approximate size and the same font as the S, and each seemed to stretch out slightly and take a bow after landing on the bed. All in all, there was a total of twelve letters bouncing excitedly on Tamaki's bed. And they spelled out, in block capital letters: SATISFACTION.

"... The hell did I drink last night?"

But the show wasn't done yet. No, no! Now the N was peering back over the side of the bed, and the other letters all gathered around. In spite of himself Tamaki caught curiosity getting the better of him, prompting him to lean over for a better look. It almost seemed as though all twelve letters were pulling up something lurking behind the bed, making little noises of support. Then, just as suddenly, the group split apart into formation of that word again, but this time with the N gently patting an upside down exclamation mark on its back.

Tamaki raised a finger and his body prepared to ask a very important question, but then he stopped upon realising that his lexicon was not sufficiently nuanced to succinctly express precisely what it was that he wanted to know. And so, he instead settled for something a great deal more vague and general. To whit:

"... What the fu-"

The word "Satisfaction" quickly leaped up into the air, spinning around and laughing and bowing, with the upside down exclamation mark hesitant, but following the other's lead.

"Hey, hey!" Tamaki cautioned. "Even if you are just a figment of my imagination, could you quiet it down? I had way too much to drink last night and you're really not helping my hangover."

Satisfaction (upside down exclamation mark included) tilted about forty five degrees one way, then went the other. Having peered at him in this manner, the letters twisted and turned to look directly at one another and then let out a raucous, howling laughter.

"That's it!" Tamaki yelled. "I don't care what the hell this is, but you freaky things have got to - Yipe!"

Now, "yipe" doesn't quite seem like the verb Tamaki meant on this occasion. But yipe they most certainly did, and why shouldn't they? After all. The sight of a hungover buffoon angrily crawling on top of their bed, only for their bed to then fold in an unnatural way that tipped him out of bed, well, who wouldn't yipe with laughter after seeing a pratfall delivered so expertly?

"Hey!" Tamaki yelled at the laughing, giggling word hovering overhead. "That wasn't funny! Stop laughing!" He put his hand on top of the side of his bed, put all his weight on it to pull himself up. His chin then slammed unexpectedly into the top of the mattress, making him loose his grip on the edge of the bed. It then slipped right back up, catching him in the torso and making him collapse back onto the bed which, for the third time in as many half seconds, tumbled him out onto the floor.

By this point Satisfaction was turned backwards and leaning against the door, with the upper portion of the first S twisting back and tapping against the door while they all letters and the inexplicably incorrectly directioned punctuation howled in hysterics.

"You think this is funny?" The letters turned around, and their tops bobbed up and down. As if they were 'nodding their heads'. "We'll see how funny you find this!"

He threw the blanket from his bed at them as if it was a net. To his great (heh!) satisfaction, all thirteen of them yelped in dismay and scarpered. The blanket hit the wall and slid down - revealing a trail of dotted lines exactly where the letters had been when they'd been yucking up a couple pratfalls.

"So it was you! You guys drew these weird dotted lines all over my apartment -"

Now, it must be said that Tamaki was not a very strategic individual. He was a hothead. Prone to anger. He thought with his heart rather than his head. That being said even a particularly stupid rock could figure out the pattern and come to a conclusion.

"Hang on a second," Tamaki said. He reached out and grabbed the edge of his bed, careful not to put his entire weight upon it this time. He then lifted up that section of the bed, and gawped at the sight of the bed completely folding over exactly along one of the dotted lines. "No way! It can't be!" he gasped in shock and fright. "This must be… I'm being attacked by an enemy Stand!"

The sound "Kyahahahahahaha!" hit him right in the ear, prompting Tamaki to whirl quickly around in an attempt to punch the errant letter out of the air. He missed, but what didn't miss was the bed's leg when it came right back down on top of his foot.

"Yow!" he yelled, then extracted the slightly crushed appendage amidst a flurry of words that really aren't fit to print. On the other side of the room, the two S and an A had hopped out in front of the others and arranged themselves alphabetically, while the I bent in front of them and slapped the A right in the middle. All of the letters bounced around while making that irritating high pitched giggle while Tamaki tried to rub some feeling back into his foot. "You won't be laughing in a minute! Just wait until I get you!"

On the one hand Tamaki had done a smart, smart thing in figuring out the enemy's ability. He had deduced, correctly, that the letters could draw dotted lines on a surface, and from that allow the surface to be "folded" in a way that it would never normally be able to do. However. He had done a stupid, stupid thing in forgetting to pay attention to his earlier observed fact: To remind you, that all along the floor, walls and furniture, dotted lines had already been drawn.

To whit: He stepped out, and then a portion of the floor popped up and smacked him in the side. This made the hothead stumble to the side, in rather the manner of a person with a sore foot that had just been hit unexpectedly in the side.

"Ow!" he yelped when another piece of floor bopped him in the nose. "Quit that!" he yelled, and then a piece of floor smacked him in the back of his shoulders when he tried stepping to the left. "I said cut that out!" This time his left side. "That's it, pal! You keep on laughing, I'll get you yet!"

By the time the tenth piece of floor had smacked him in some part of his body, the letters were all rolling around on top of the table, pounding parts of themselves against the surface or leaning against each other for support. All thirteen were laughing so hard they should by rights be choking on it.

"Alright, alright!" Tamaki seethed. "I get the idea. I'm just going to stay right here and try to think this through." Well, a particularly cruel person might have remarked there was a first time for everything. However. Tamaki did have a particularly good idea right then.

Who wants to deal with a rogue Stand by themselves? He had his phone in his pocket. He could call for help! Hah! See how funny this thing found him calling for help!

"... Tamaki, is that you? What's wrong?"

"Ohgi, you've got to help me! I'm being attacked!"

"Attacked? I'm my way. Tell me what you can, and I'll be there soon."

In front of him, Satisfaction was laughing again. A playful little titter instead of the outright gut busting guffaw from before.

"Damned Satisfaction, drawing lines all over the place!"

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that. What's attacking you?"

"Satisfaction! I'm being attacked by Satisfaction! Hello? Ohgi? Hello?"

Damn, the line went dead! What a time for his buddy's battery to run low. Okay. Alright. No need to panic. Maybe if he was careful in how he moved, he could make a break for it? Find some support face to face and fill them in, then maybe get Kallen to help him out. Yeah, that's the ticket! The best thing to fight a Stand would be another Stand user. Yeah, there was no shame in a nice normal guy like him making a break for it and getting some backup.

So all he could do now was slide very, very carefully across the floor. Be careful how he spread his weight. Keep his weight about equal on either side of a dotted line as much as possible, test out how things might fold beneath him if he stepped here and if he put his foot here like this…

On the table, the letters of Satisfaction were conducting what could only possibly be described as a sarcastic cheerleading routine. The visual aspect of such a performance, in particular performed by letters of the alphabet and a piece of punctuation, might well be best left to the realm of the reader's imagination, lest we be here all night dwelling upon this sole spectacle.

Especially when we could get to the point that actually mattered: Namely, Tamaki reaching the door without being slapped around by the floor.

"Looks like it's my win," Tamaki said, turning back to gloat at the floating word while gripping the handle. "We'll see how funny you find it when I get back with Kallen and - " He turned the handle. Took a confident step forward without watching where he was going. Walked directly into the door.

"Kyahahahahahaha!"

"Wh-What the hell?!" Tamaki yelled. "W-Wait, don't tell me… You little jerks put dotted lines around the handle too?!" Indeed they had, as the handle was quite obviously folding completely around his grip. "You think you can trap me in here like this? I'll show you, and your user as well!"

He reached to his left and picked up a broom. He turned it in his hand. No dotted lines in sight! Haha! He smacked it into his open hand and then winced a little at the splinter he accidentally gave himself, tried to pretend it didn't happen and then took a great big step forward -

Then left that foot hovering in mid-air. "There's a dotted line right there," he said. "You were probably hoping I'd make a bit of the floor fold up and hit me in between my legs. Right?" The letters nodded expectantly. "Too bad!" Tamaki yelled, withdrawing the foot. Instead he let the brush lead the way, pressing it up against the floor and clearing a path for him through the dotted lines, brushing them aside in a moment of absolute triumph. "Because I'm here to clean up!"

The letters all jumped off the table in unison, tried to fly off in multiple directions at once, and naturally enough collided into each other more often than not. Ultimately Satisfaction settled for a retreat to the corner of the room while Tamaki furiously pursued.

"Well well," he huffed, leaving the broom balanced over his shoulder while the letters trembled on the floor in front of him, huddled into a group to give each other emotional support. "Not so tough now, are we? Not laughing now, huh!"

With both hands, the broom was lifted up so that he could strike them down with the fullest force of his fury. "Send my regards to your user," he said. "Whoever the weirdo is, cause there's no way out for you now, you little pests!"

Which was all fine and good, save for the fact that something tapped him on the shoulder, prompting Tamaki to turn around to see who it was. There was, of course, nobody there. Something tapped him on the other shoulder now, and he whirled around again. Still nothing. A third tap, and he turned in the opposite direction, where a certain upside down exclamation mark waved shyly at him.

"Why you little -" was the cry that was began when the broom was lifted back and high to the left. Unfortunately that cry then ended with "Gack!" when the broom suddenly folded in several places, partially wrapping around Tamaki's face so that the head of the broom met him face to face, making him stumble back into the corner, release the broom and make the entire thing snap around his body until the other end of it met a rather uncomfortable location with great force.

Credit must be given where it is due: For all that he is a hot headed short sighted fool, Tamaki was the resilient sort. It must be because of the adrenaline levels he could summon by being so hot blooded. Anyone else would have crumpled to the floor and begged in submission after the trial of the folding floor, but not him. He kept on going, kept himself upright.

The problem is that everyone has their limits, and there wasn't a man alive that would be able to remain on their feet after a sudden hit like that. Indeed, the toughest man alive would do as Tamaki did: Sink, wide eyes, to their knees. Whimper in agony and stay there for a little while, not especially paying much heed to the assorted letters bouncing up and down atop his trembling figure.

====Ohgi====

In the early, rising morning four men were walking down the street with a gait that was either steely determination, or more likely, being up a couple hours before they'd been expecting for reasons they didn't exactly understand or appreciate.

"Are you sure about this?" Kento asked. "Getting a vague call from that idiot this early in the morning... "

"It sounds like he was probably drinking," Toru observed. "He probably had a freaky dream while drunk and went back to bed."

"In which case I'm not too keen on waking him up," Kento yawned. "He's got a short temper at the best of times. I'd hate to see him if he's woken while hungover. For more reasons than one."

"To be honest, that was my thinking too," Ohgi admitted. "The problem is -"

"The problem is, we don't know for certain," said the odd man out of the group. Kosetsu Urabe. The sound of his voice still made Ohgi want to try standing at attention, even though his body was really, desperately protesting that sort of action right now. "For all we know, he was being attacked by a Stand user that was garbling his spoken language."

"R-Right," Ohgi said. "Besides, he seemed kind of down at the debriefing. Even if there really is nothing wrong, the least we could do is spend some time cheering him up. If anything I'm surprised you decided to tag along. One of the Four Holy Swords…"

"I thought it could be fun to spend some time with a friend," Urabe said. "When it's time to fight, I'll be as serious as needed. When it's not, I'll do my best to let a little tension out. Besides, what's the point in having a great reputation if you can't bask in it once in a while? Or if you prefer it a different way, using it to raise people's spirits."

Amazing. Simply amazing. There was no question of what kind of person Urabe was. Even though he was a member of the Japan Liberation Front, he'd taken the idea of being a warrior of justice to heart. He didn't just spend his time with the higher ranks of the Black Knights. He wasn't afraid to get his hand dirty, help train new recruits, spend time talking to "lower ranks".

They say that your idols never meet your expectations. Which is true enough. Sometimes they surpass them.

Here it was. Tamaki's place. All four of them fell silent pretty much immediately. None of them knew what to expect. There might be horrible danger in there, and none of them would know it until they went inside… Or it might just be Tamaki being an idiot. Either way, it was safest to know for sure, and Ohgi was glad that they were at least treating this with the utmost seriousness the situation (probably) warranted.

At least, that's what he was thinking until he heard Kento and Toru snoring behind him. Urabe, standing behind them, politely coughed and then gently nudged them in the middle of their backs.

"Perhaps consider an earlier night's sleep tomorrow?" Urabe suggested to the pair. "Please, do take this rather more seriously."

"Okay, okay!" Toru said. "But really, it's hard for me to imagine a Stand user randomly attacking Tamaki, of all people. Shouldn't they go after someone higher up?"

"That assumes we know their motivation... " Kento said, but stopped when they all heard a rather loud thump coming from behind the door they were standing outside of.

Ohgi was the first to lunge for the doorknob, and to his surprise it actually did give way. He didn't latch the door? No time to think about that! He pushed inside, expecting the worst, and beheld a sight that he would dearly, dearly wish he had not damned his own eyes with.

Namely: Tamaki, in the corner of the room, huddled up on the floor, with both of his hands grasping at his crotch while a broom lay not-so-innocently nearby.

"Satisfaction!" Tamaki yelled. Oh god. "I'll get you yet, Satisfaction!" Oh god no what had they done? They should not have come here. This was a cursed place. "No matter how hard I have to try, I will not stop until I get Satisfaction!"

And then, while Ohgi was still numb trying desperately to stop his traitorous mind from conjuring what might have transpired here mere moments ago, Tamaki noticed them, grunted, and staggered to his feet on trembling legs while sweat traced his brow. This was not in any way helpful as regards his imagination, which continued to find new and horrible ways to betray him.

"Guys, you came!" Tamaki said. "Listen, don't come into the room! Don't take another step. That damned thing has drawn dotted lines all over the place, and if you step on one -"

"Question!" Toru said with his hand raised. "What dotted lines?"

"Are you blind?" Tamaki asked. "What dotted lines? The ones all… Over the… Uh… The hell did they go?"

Ohgi turned and looked around the room, as did all of them. There was nothing even remotely like a dotted line anywhere in the room. Not on the walls. Not the ceiling. Not the floor. Absolutely nowhere at all that the eye could see.

"They were here a minute ago!" Tamaki insisted. "I swear, they were all over the damn place!"

"False alarm," Kento sighed. "Didn't I say? Just like this idiot to raise a fuss over nothing."

"No, that's still premature," Urabe suddenly said. "It would be just like a Stand user to try to make us drop our guard by pretending everything was normal."

"That's it!" Tamaki said. "That's exactly what it's doing! It's trying to make us relax and chill so it can strike when we least expect it! You hear me, you damned Stand user! Your dotted lines won't get us so easily! You hear that?!"

He was serious, then? A Stand of some kind that draws dotted lines? Ohgi felt his back stiffen and his brows furrow. This was definitely a matter he should be taking seriously then. "Kento," Ohgi said. "Get him a glass of water. Tamaki, we need you to tell us what happened here."

Urabe gave him a nod of approval. Huh, how about that? Approval from two legends, for a guy like him?

"I'm not sure how to explain it," Tamaki grunted. "It's sort of like - There! There it is! Satisfaction is right behind you! Look! Right there!"

Satisfaction again? Ohgi turned around, and so did the others. Nothing there, again.

"It flew off as soon as you all turned around!" Tamaki insisted. "Come on guys, I'm not making this up! Satisfaction was right there, and you all missed it!"

"I think Ohgi's got the right idea," Kento said, handing Tamaki the glass of water. "You're way too worked up. If we're to understand what's going on around here, you need to calm down. Here."

Tamaki took the glass of water like a pair of unwashed socks. "Fine," he said. "If it makes you happy I'll just take a sip of this and try to explain what's going on around - Hey!"

Well, if his goal was to wake himself up then inexplicably spilling that water all the way down his shirt was probably going to do it. Although, funny thing. For a moment there it sort of seemed as though half of that glass was pointed at a different angle than the rest of it, almost as if it had bent over at the top just as Tamaki had tipped it slightly to take a sip.

"D-Damn it, don't look at me like that!" Tamaki yelled. "Aw hell, all over my shirt, too! That sneaky Stand did this to make me look stupid!"

"As if you needed any help," Toru thoughtlessly quipped. The only reason Ohgi didn't nudge him the back for being so careless with his tongue was that Urabe beat him to it. "Come on, the guy's obviously making it up. Why on earth would a Stand user just target him with practical jokes?"

"That's it! Screw you guys! I'm dealing with this myself! I am not standing around in my own home to be made fun of by people I thought were supposed to be my friends!"

"Wait, Tamaki!" Ohgi tried, he really did, but by the time that he was reaching out to him Tamaki had already stormed out the door at a dead run, turning off down the corridor and heading probably towards the entrance.

"Well that was a productive waste of time," Kento sniffed. "I told you. He's a hotheaded idiot. Sorry you had to see a bad impression of him like that, Urabe."

"Actually," Ohgi wearily said. "I think Urabe got a bad impression of the rest of us just now."

====Tamaki====

Tamaki didn't even get three steps outside the front door before his phone rang. Probably those jerks calling up to crack wise about his "Stand battle" again. Ugh! They were gonna get an earful!

"Oh, I'm already getting an earful thanks. I tend to find stupid people have louder, simpler minds, especially when they're as unjustly full of themselves as you are. How was that?"

"Huh?" Tamaki grunted. And just at that moment, the various letters decided it would be a good time for them to start bouncing up and down on his shoulders and arms. Not that he could even feel it really, but -

"But it's like flies buzzing around your head. Believe me, I can sympathise."

"Listen, whoever this is I don't have time for bullshit right now! Kind of in the middle of something!" Trying to bat them away didn't do anything, so instead he just started to run away. Not particularly caring where. Just… Run somewhere else while those damned things bounced on him like he was some kind of weirdly shaped (but handsome) bouncy castle!

"Hahaha! I like that, I like that! But you don't much like the Stand I gave you, do you? Ah, ah, now you've stopped running because you're digesting what I just said. Nope. Don't bother looking around. You won't see me. I'm nowhere in sight. Oh, you're like a playset for toddlers. Give me five minutes and I'll have your mind in knots."

"Who the hell are you?" Tamaki yelled. Suddenly the O… There was no other word for it but kissed him. Right on the lips. He wiped his mouth on his forearm, while both the letters and the jerk on the other end of the phone laughed at him. Like he was some kind of clown!

"First a bouncy castle, and now a clown? Maybe you'd be more suitable for a child's birthday party than being a knight for justice. I'm sure your colleague all feel the same way."

"Why you -"

"Tamaki's alway the first to eject from a scrap. All he's good for is hitting on women, being a playboy and spending all our money. That idiot's so worthless that even if he got a Stand, it would cause all sorts of friction inside our organisation. Jealousy. Suspicion. Why should he get one when there are so many more worthwhile people? Like Tohdoh, or the Four Holy Swords? Or maybe the janitorial staff, they're far more productive and trustworthy."

"Sh-Shut your mouth, before I find you and shut it for you!"

The letters hovered in front of him and made a sort of "ooooooh" sound, the sort you'd hear from a live studio audience when it was revealed a trusted character was really an evil twin.

"Watching a few soaps have we?" the mystery voice asked. "You're wondering who I am and what the point of all this is. Well, I was rather hoping you'd wind up being killed, but it looks like your Stand has even less destructive potential than you do. How sad! I suppose I'll have to lure my dear C.C. out some other way."

C.C.? That witch had something to do with this? Tamaki angrily hung up on the guy and turned his attention completely on the floating Stand in word form. Hovering in the air. Mocking him. Taunting him. Laughing at him. Just like everyone was laughing at him!

"Get the hell out of here!" Tamaki yelled. "I'm sick of the sight of you, and it's really pissing me off already!"

The letters scarpered, and for a moment Tamaki felt a surge of triumph and relief. Well. Thank goodness for that! Although. The moment was a little bit disarmed when he saw five big and burly Britannians staring right at him. One of whom was carrying a bat over his shoulder.

Now. He was just as willing as any hot blooded Japanese to bring the fight to some Britannian thugs wandering through the ghetto for whatever reason, but nor was he stupid enough to intentionally start something when the numbers were, shall we say, not even remotely in his favour.

No point giving the Britannians an excuse to kick the living hell out of him. Slightly more importantly: No point in getting the living hell kicked out of you. Retreating to his apartment and hoping the others were still there, that seemed like a pretty solid plan right about now -

Or that would have been a great idea, if not for the bag getting thrown right at his legs. Crap!

"Where do you think you're going, Eleven?" one of the thugs asked, cracking his knuckles.

"Maybe he just realised his mistake a touch too late," said another, pounding his fist into an open palm. Gee guys, spend your free time reading from the cliche thugs handbook? What's next? Gonna teach him a lesson?

"In case he didn't, maybe we should teach him a lesson," said the one with the bat, and Tamaki rolled his eyes without being able to stop himself.

But the funny thing was: While clichefest thug edition was playing out above him, Satisfaction hovered around as well. The letters puffed up their middle segments, and then flew directly at the Britannians, pounding against their chests and faces… To absolutely no effect at all.

Four of them grabbed Tamaki's arms and held him upright, while the jerk with the bat stepped up right close and blew air out of his nose right at Tamaki's face.

"Stinking Britannians," Tamaki huffed. "What the hell are you even doing in the ghetto at this time of morning?"

"Beating up an especially uppity Eleven," mister bat said. "Father always tells me I needed a hobby to pass the time, and so… Here we are. Keep him steady, boys, here comes the first serve -"

The bat swung in, aimed directly for Tamaki's face. He tried to brace himself for the impact, but really, how exactly do you brace yourself for facial damage against a fast moving bat to the mug? You don't. That's the only answer reality will accept.

Hell, even Satisfaction wasn't happy with this outcome. The little bastard was pushing back against the bat, and wasn't even slowing it down. No wonder that guy said this thing had no destructive potential to speak of! It was completely wimpy! Tamaki closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable agony which would hit him any moment now.

Any moment now. Any second. Complete splitting agony. Uh… Surely by now? He was swinging it pretty fast and that was at least five seconds already, so… An eye cracked open. The Britannians were all gawping in confusion at the bat.

"Stop goofing around already," one of them said. "Hit him with the bat!"

"I'm trying!" mister bat said. He swung it again. The end of the bat folded out of the way, missing Tamaki completely, and then snapped back to full straightness once the swing was completed. "I don't get it! Why am I missing…? And who drew this dotted line on the edge of my bat?"

"I dunno," Tamaki said. "Maybe the same jerk that drew one on your face?"

"Shut up, Eleven!"

"Actually he's right. There's one right down the middle of your face."

"There is?"

Mister bat made the critical mistake, just then, of touching the middle of his face. Making it fold inward, as if both halves of his face were a closing book. Trapping his face in between the folding flesh - And then just as quickly it snapped back open as if nothing had happened at all!

Needless to say, it was a distressing experience to witness. But not a patch on what it must have been like to go through personally.

"He's a freak," someone yelled.

"A Stand user? Oh hell no!"

"We've got to get out of here before he does something terrible!"

"He'll probably fold us up into a tiny little box with a power like that!"

"I don't want to be a box! There are way too many right angles involved!"

Huh! How about that. They were… Running. Five stinking, rotten Britannians wandering around thinking they were hot stuff and could do whatever they liked, running away as if the hounds of hell were firing bees from their mouths at them. Bees that were on fire.

"Yeah, you'd better run!" Tamaki yelled after them. Satisfaction drifted down in front of him, then spun the first S up to meet his open palm in a high five. Sort of. What do you call it when you slap a sentient letter, anyway? Ah, who cares? "Hey, maybe you're not so bad after all?"

The letters mewled at him, and now that he was more used to how this thing moved around he could sort of imagine it was like seeing a person being shy and fidgety. Heh. "I knew it all along," Tamaki boasted. "No way you could be that bad. I was just playing around with you until you showed your good side."

Satisfaction waved goodbye at him, and then started drifting off backwards down the street. Ah, not exactly the best way to meet a brand new day, but still. It did leave Tamaki with the funny feeling he'd made a brand new -

Something tapped him on the shoulder. Tamaki turned around. Nothing there. He turned back and -"HOOOONK! Kyahahahahaha!" Right in his face! All thirteen of them at once!

"Kill you! I'll kill you! I knew you were just pretending, you little turd! Satisfaction! I'll get you yet, just you watch!"

====Villetta====

Imagine a modern day fortress. Imagine a building with plain clothed guards standing on the roof, and on the roofs of nearby buildings. Imagine that to even approach this building required a thorough biometrics examination, background check and a remotely activated stun collar placed around your neck, ankles and wrists. Imagine that a hidden camera and microphone was installed into a location on your new accessories. That not one person on site knew a fraction of the myriad security measures in place for the purposes of security.

You might think such a thoroughly secure building must be home to Royalty, a world leader or perhaps someone of tremendous importance. To protect them from the outside world. No. This was a prison. A prison designed to hold a new breed of criminal that they still did not fully understand.

There was something slightly amusing to Villetta that the most secure locations in any culture will be reserved for the most important members of that society, but also for those that posed the most danger to those living within it. A cynical, disloyal person might have asked what the difference was. But for her, the only question was how she should fulfil her duty.

She stepped inside the building trying not to feel the tension she was feeling. The collar on her neck was uncomfortable. But absolutely necessary. The building didn't look like or feel like any prison she'd ever visited before. The guard ahead of her smartly guided Villetta into a side room.

"I'll be meeting him in here?" she asked, looking around in surprise. It hardly seemed secure.

"No, ma'am!" the guard replied, giving her a quick salute. "Due to the nature of his power, the only safe way to communicate is through a monitor and camera setup." He gestured towards the back wall, which was indeed covered by a monitor. "For your safety, this is the best approach we can manage."

Villetta was about to complain that she hadn't been told this before now, but on reflection that course of action did make sense. Even though she had no intention of helping that person escape they had no way to know that. Therefore, keep her from planning anything by keeping her from being able to plan anything. Obfuscation is sometimes a better defensive measure than a brick wall. Especially where these monsters were concerned.

So she settled down into the seat placed opposite and leaned over just as the screen flickered to life. There he was. Or she, depending on your point of view right now. The current sole prisoner of this new facility: Kewell Soresi.

"Villetta!" her former colleague cheerfully called from their current unfamiliar female form. "It's so good to see you again. Why, I'd wave hello but my hands are a little preoccupied right now."

As was standard for Britannian prisoners, Kewell had been forced to wear a secure straightjacket. That part was expected. The girl he was copying, on the other hand, was not remotely expected.

"This is not an attempt to catch up with an old friend," Villetta said. "At least, I hope that's not the reason you specifically requested that I question you. I would hate to have wasted a journey."

"Straight to the point as always," Kewell said, tilting his head and splitting that pretty face with a deeply unsettling, unnaturally large smile. "That's something I always liked about you. You're so straight to the point, so no-nonsense! If only we had more people like you the Purebloods might have been taken more seriously, alas… Being so straightforward won't do you any good in an interrogation. Right?" She stared at him sternly, though internally it was hard to believe this was the same person she used to work with. "So, how's Jeremiah doing?"

"Not that it's any business of yours anymore," Villetta said. "But he is in hospital being treated for burn injuries. It seems as though he has also developed some kind of Stand."

"Ah, that word!" Kewell sneered. "Stand. Stand! Stand! Stand! I can't stand to hear it anymore! Hahaha! Unless… Unless you're the one to say it, Villetta. You're not like the others. You're not afraid of them anymore. No, I know what that tone meant! Hahaha!" That unfamiliar face suddenly snapped from sarcastic mirth to condescending fury. "You're jealous. They have power and you do not. Ambitious and hungry and it's so very, very pure."

"This isn't about me," Villetta said. "Like I said, I have some questions to ask you -"

"What do I know?" Kewell chuckled. "What could I possibly tell you that the Empire doesn't already know?" He rolled his head around on his shoulders. Was this really Kewell? Even aside from the physical appearance, this behaviour was nothing like him. Erratic. Insane. "You're just too small to be told anything, and I'm not sure it can be easily explained in words." He stopped rolling his head, resting his right ear directly on top of his right shoulder. "Maybe you would understand if I showed you?"

Then without warning he swung his head hard into his other shoulder with a painful sounding crack. A little blood started to ooze out the corner of his mouth, and he spat it out at the screen, hiding the contents of the room behind a red mist.

"He's trying to escape!" Villetta said. The guard next to her was rather less concerned than he should be. Oddly, that confidence didn't set her mind at ease. Not remotely. Not where an insane Stand user was involved. "I said, he's trying to escape!"

"Trying perhaps," the guard smugly said. "However, he won't succeed. There's no way out of that room and that's not the only camera we've got positioned there. Let me just change this to another angle so we can see what he's trying to do."

He did so to a higher angle, and the room was empty. Because of course it was. Well. Not quite empty, per se. The straightjacket lying discarded on the floor rather disqualified the "empty" description, and lay there as a terrible and ominous threat of things to come.

So where was he? Hiding in the blind spot of the cameras in the hope the guards would open the door to investigate? No, this camera could sweep the room sufficiently, giving her a much better view of it. There were no windows to this room. The camera she'd been viewing him through was placed on top of a monitor, which was in turn on the other side of a sheet of glass.

"Pardon me, ma'am!" the guard said. "The security team just gave me a report. They were watching the cameras, and - It's hard to believe, but they're sending us a recording."

The same camera, but timestamped for half a minute ago. Kewell spat the blood at the screen separating him from the television and camera, and then did a series of absolutely impossible physical movements to extract himself from the straightjacket. Turned up to look at the camera, waved at it, and then jumped right up to the ceiling like a cat after a bird.

"He appears to have gone for the ventilation into his room," the guard said. Still no sign of concern on his part. "In which case, he'll turn back soon if he's smart."

"And why might that be?" Villetta asked. "I appreciate that this is not some stupid action movie that thinks regular people can fit inside of a vent shaft. That said his power affords him greater flexibility. He could pass right through them."

"He could," the guard admitted. "Except that we intentionally layered the interior with very sharp metal teeth. Cheese wire across the middle, and other similar unpleasant deadly traps. He'll be shredded long before he could even theoretically escape."

Villetta closed her eyes and thought very hard for a moment. She had learned quite a lot recently. About herself. About Stands. About pride and certainty. About how easy it was to believe you'd already won when the enemy had an ace up their sleeve you weren't ready for.

Which is why it wasn't even remotely a surprise to her when gunfire broke out shortly thereafter.

The two of them moved quickly as according to their training, which told them to move towards the dangerous area with their weapons ready, but the guard gestured for Villetta to remain seated.

"Let me help," Villetta said quite insistently to the guard.

"Sorry, I can't do that," the guard replied. "For all we know he called you here to help him escape. For your safety and ours I'm going to have to lock you in here. Until we recapture him, you see."

Idiot! Did he think that Villetta would try to do something so thoroughly stupid as assist a dangerous criminal? Or get in the way of their security procedure? None of them had experience in fighting a Stand! The difference between theoretical training and practical experience could be the difference between life and death!

She made a point of jumping onto the seat again in a pointed, angry manner and, after a moment's thought, realised that this monitor must be tied into the security network if they could show her alternative angles in the cell. At the very least she could see what was going on out there. All she had to do was change the channel until -

There! She saw a dozen fully armed men and women approaching a running naked woman with long green hair that didn't have a single scratch on her. So much for those "unpleasant deadly traps" inside the ventilation. Villetta leaned forward, watching intently. No matter the outcome this was destined to be extremely messy.

The guard that had been accompanying Villetta stepped out in front of Kewell and aimed his gun directly for the prisoner's kneecap. His shot was good, but you never assume the first one will do if you have to fire and so he did so again. The instant he did answered the question of how Kewell had been able to escape.

Because the bullet passed cleanly through the leg, sent blood splattering everywhere. Then, by the time the next step had been taken it had fully healed as though nothing had even happened.

"Oh no," the guard said.

"Oh yes," Kewell replied. His fist drew back, and a punch was thrown out that would hit nothing but air. Except that there was a series of tiny popping sounds along the joints, and the arm seemed to almost double in size in an instant. The fist struck the guard fully in the chest, knocking the wind out of his sails for just long enough that Kewell was completely upon him.

"I know what you're thinking," Kewell said. "He just dislocated his arm in several places just to make that attack hit! Didn't that hurt? The answer is -" The guard tried to step back to fire again, but Kewell just shrugged, grabbed his wrist and pushed him back up against the wall with the entire weight of his stolen body. "The answer is, more than you can imagine and less than I notice anymore."

By now the pursuing guards had been able to catch up and formed a semicircle around Kewell's position. Not that this seemed to concern him in the slightest. All Kewell was doing was putting up his hands in sarcastic surrender.

"You know, I could just transform into you and make you have to fight them to the death trying to protect me," Kewell said. "But this new body of mine seems to recover quite well from injury, so I think I'll keep it a little bit longer. It'll let me do really cool things like -"

Like diving right for the nearest guard, prompting all of them to open up on her to absolutely no effect. From there, as soon as he reached his first victim he slid around their body like a boa constrictor, grabbed hold of their head and twisted very hard, very quickly.

"This body is a blessing and a curse," Kewell said, looking around at the other guards as though they were delicious slices of meat he was about to consume whole, without stopping to chew even once. "I am in constant, constant pain. More pain than anyone could stand. Heh. There's that word again."

While uncoiling from the guard he'd just killed, another one tried to approach from behind with a taser in hand. Kewell's leg then lashed out in an impossible angle, striking the hand holding it and then he leaned back to pluck it out of the air. What was his body made of to bend that way, rubber?!

"On the other hand," Kewell continued while casually electrocuting the man's neck. "It allows me a greater degree of flexibility." They opened fire on him again, and Kewell stood there taking the bullets as though standing in a shower. "I can push my body around in ways none of you can. It hurts like hell, but I can do it all the same!"

They didn't stand a chance. He was unkillable, feared no pain they could inflict and had a body capable of doing things that no human should ever be able to. It was like watching someone try to catch the ocean in their bare hands, he kept on slipping through them, flowing around them like water. You could see the moment they all realised that fact. They outnumbered him, but it didn't matter when they were up against an enemy they literally could not defeat.

"Retreat!" someone called. "He's - He's unstoppable! We need a new plan of attack!" So they ran. Villetta couldn't blame them, because there was nothing else they could do. How do you even begin to fight something that didn't fear pain or death? How do you contain something that could move this freely?

"Tsk, cowards!" Kewell taunted, picking up an assault rifle from one of the dead bodies. "You call yourselves Britannian soldiers? It's impure desires like survival instinct that are holding back our military! Allow me to cure you of what ails you."

"Kewell, there's no need for -"

Far too late. He aimed the gun and unloaded down the corridor. Loyal soldiers doing their duty, dead in an instant. Stuff being locked up in here like this! Villetta Nu was a woman of action. She ran up to the door and put all of her considerable strength into a kick that had pretty much no effect at all. She kicked it again, concentrating her efforts on the handle. That's where the lock would be. If she could break that part then the door itself would -

Open up and reveal Kewell standing there, eyes wide open and an otherworldly smile creeping all the way up his face. Or rather, the face of the girl whose body he had copied.

"There you are," Kewell said, tossing the gun aside. "I win this round of hide and seek. Now I can show you what I meant before."

"Show me?" Villetta yelled, backing into the room while considering her options. Firearms didn't work. Maybe electrocution, like before?. "Kewell Soresi, you will stand down!"

"Ah! There's that word again…"

Villetta wanted to keep backing away. She did want to do that. Something made her step forward instead. Pride? Determination? Fear of being chased down by the monster her colleague had become? Who gave a damn what it was, what mattered was that it was motivating her to act and she wasn't going to hesitate now.

"I wonder what your sister would say," Villetta sniffed. "I remember you telling me that Marika's trying to follow in your footsteps. Is this the example you want to leave her?"

"Marika…" Kewell sighed. So there was something of himself in there still? "She's a smart girl. She was always smarter than I was, and even a little bit more athletically inclined. Would you believe it? How pathetic. An older brother competing with his little sister… And then that competition made us both that much better."

"The Britannian ideal," Villetta observed. Come on, Kewell. Step back from the ledge of madness. Redeem yourself. For her sake if not your own.

"Well, in the end… I guess I won in a roundabout way!" Kewell chuckled insanely. "Ah, nice try Villetta! Trying to bring me back from the edge, were you? Oh ho! But no dice. No chips, no cards or tokens. Instead, you get the consolation prize! The answer to your earlier question awaits."

With that same sudden, out of nowhere speed Kewell leaped out and tackled Villetta, pinning her up against the wall with a powerful and impossible to escape grip. Was he going to kill her as well? Damn him and his madness! Damn all of them, Stand users, mysteries and -

"I propose a deal," Kewell said. And as he spoke, a strange, familiar sigil opened up on his forehead, causing the fringe of that green hair to rise up. "And if you agree, so long as you live in this world of humans and monster you will live unlike any other…"

[To Be Continued |\|]

Stand Stats

(Can't Get No) Satisfaction

User: Tamaki

Stats

Destructive Power E

Speed C

Range B

Durability D

Precision B

Developmental Potential C

Abilities

I try and I try: All letters of Stand may move independently of one another, within range of Stand.

Can't Get No: By coming into contact with a surface, Stand may draw a "dotted line" upon it. The surface may be folded along that dotted line without damaging the item, the surface or anything inside. Lines will fade dependant on how many letters are connected to the part of the Stand that drew the line.

Useless Information: Damage inflicted upon Stand does not reflect upon user. However, user cannot control Stand. As a consequence, the Stand enjoys playing pranks on user, but will move to protect them from more serious harm.