a/n: Vandham and Nagi work together on what becomes a city-wide prank. Elma and Doug test the limits of fashion gear, as does Chausson. H.B. is not pleased. Lin and Tatsu are dorks.
Slight swears, because Vandham. Slight violence, because H.B.'s face.
All the good things, including large bits of dialogue, belong to Monolith Soft. Happy April Fools.
The first indications that the holiday had not been forgotten came at 0600, when Secretary of Defense Nagi took his accustomed position on the platform overlooking New Los Angeles. He was holding a slightly larger mug of coffee in his gloved hands, but otherwise his uniform was impeccable. Even his shoes were polished to inspection levels of perfection. The early morning breeze ruffled his blond cowlick and drooping mustache. He glowered over the city, his city, the one he had a list of plans for construction and improvement, and tried to keep himself from fussing with the damn dress gloves.
He turned when a member of BLADE approached, and took a deep breath. He had spent a few hours the night before, consulting and memorizing agreed upon dialogue. Don't blink, don't acknowledge surprise, and definitely don't let yourself smile, he reminded himself. Impassive, that's the effect he was going for. Or did he mean imperturbable?
"Ah, Gwin. Just the BLADE I've been looking for... There is still so much we don't fully understand, but nonetheless, the Ganglion are defeated. And as secretary of defense, that has lightened my workload significantly. Which means I'm now free to tromp about Mira just like any other BLADE operative! If you have an opening on your team, I'd be grateful for the chance to fill it."
He was sweating by the time the last words had rolled off his tongue, which was probably just as well. If he had let himself be distracted by the boy's expressions, he probably would have laughed hard enough to pop a button off his uniform.
The young soldier finally stopped twitching and staring. "Uh, Commander..."
The Secretary of Defense cut him off. "I believe the Commander is slouching in his usual spot." He swung an arm up towards the top of the stairs leading to BLADE headquarters. A faint tearing noise reminding him that the fitted jacket belonging to the ship's uniform really wasn't designed for arms and shoulders like his. He let his arm fall gently to his side and made a mental note to avoid crossing his arms at all costs. He glared stonily at Gwin, then sipped his coffee, signaling that the conversation was over.
Commander Vandham was indeed stationed where the Secretary had indicated, arms crossed and absolutely not shivering in the early morning air. Cold meant nothing to him. He might have preferred a jacket today, but a tank top was his standard attire and there was no reason to deviate from it. The pants with their arcane belt were similarly his standard non-standard dress, and the work boots. It had pained him to put the scuffed things on today, but he was no less meticulous than he always was. He had watched the Secretary's interaction with Mr. Evans from a distance, and was well prepared for the subsequent check-in.
It took more effort than he expected to loosen his jaw enough to manage the appropriate drawl. He felt his scar tug an unexpected reminder. He widened his stance, although he couldn't really spare the added height. "Working hard out there?" he greeted the now thoroughly confused Evans.
"Mr. Secretary, sir..."
"Nagi need something from me? Fine, I'll catch up with him this afternoon at another goddamn meeting. You better count your blessings kid, that your job is to take on the freakin' swarms of indigens out there, and not one of these meetings. I'm dying of boredom, I swear." The Commander was pleased with his ability to ad lib, and congratulated himself silently as he watched the inquisitive soldier stagger off in a fog of confusion.
The news rippled out across the city. People checked in with the Secretary and the Commander, usually sequentially, sometimes repeatedly. H.B. was the most persistent, not leaving until the Commander had given him a solid and concrete set-down that left H.B. rubbing the back of his head and unable to focus his eyes for several minutes.
Elma had drifted past early, examining the two men with a calculating gaze, and then had disappeared quickly down below, off to the Administrative Hangar. Shortly thereafter a new rumor whispered among the soldiers. Several Harriers jogged to their lower encampment. To their delight, they found Doug Barrett, their unofficial leader, calmly swigging cocoa from his industrial thermos and waiting for a proper job and team to assemble. He pushed his long white hair away from his face as if nothing strange was happening directly above him. He was wearing his heavy armor, battered by everything from playful saltat to the Battle for the Lifehold itself, and greeted his fellow divsion members with a gruff "hey" before offering to spend his free time going wherever they were headed. Several parties went out and returned, always impressed by how well he handled the beam sabres, two instead of his usual one, and how lightly he moved.
Elma herself had gone scarce, only to be found later, mincing, positively mincing, through the Commercial District on the stylish high heels that completed her red and silver armor. The shopping bag she carried dangled carelessly, practically swallowed by her meaty paw. When she was bumped by a BLADE rushing past, she swore under her breath. "Hell, how do you manage to fight in these things? Gotta ask about that later."
As much as these four figures were attracting amazed glances, this was nothing to the hubbub around the Mission Board on the BLADE concourse. Naturally crowded with BLADEs at loose ends, trying for a quick credit on an easy mission, or possibly something with more glory and risk, the area was positively swarmed today. Eleonora's smile never slipped from her grey and lined face however, and she continued to direct likely candidates to the appropriate jobs. She looked neat and businesslike in her white uniform, and unlike Elma, she voiced no complaints about her cute little heels. If anyone caught her accidentally reaching toward her neck to tug at an absent necktie, they were too kind to point it out.
Not everyone had joined the curious onlookers. Maurice Chausson had decided to take the morning off. The small pleasures of sleeping in and then lingering over coffee and toast in comfortable pajamas were to be relished. Honestly, there hadn't been a break since they'd arrived on this planet, or even before. Maurice glanced at the comm device and practiced a few lines. "My work as director general can truly begin once peace is finally upon us. I promise to transform our New LA into a city every bit as impressive as the Los Angeles of old." A small snort was uttered, and dainty nose was wrinkled. Maurice pushed a chin length strand of blond hair back, only to have it fall softly back into place. "Oh dear, you'll be needing all the help you can get, won't you? Don't worry your pretty little head, Maurice. I'll think of something." She, excuse me, he glanced at the time and sighed happily. He had time for a long bath, several of them, before making his way to the front of BLADE tower. He looked at the newly tailored three piece suit hanging in the closet and laughed again.
It had taken Lin and Tatsu a little longer to finally understand what had happened, and they had raced around the city, gleefully cataloguing the increasing oddities. Frye was taller, bluer, and even weirder, which was saying quite something. Phog, wearing his signature shorts, was talking warmly to all the concerned passers-by, making sure they were feeling okay and didn't have any worries. By dinnertime, the two tweens had decided that they also had to participate. A quick reshuffling of jackets and gloves would have to suffice since there wasn't much way to reconcile their disparate forms. The restyling of hair completed the look and provided increasing hilarity. Finally, with a stunted coil on one's forehead, and a tiny red sword hair clip shoved firmly into the other's tuft, they began to practice their roles.
"Meh meh meh, Lin Lee is really mean to poor stupid Tatsu." The novel Nopon stopped to giggle.
"Tatsu not stupid,"' protested the loyal friend.
"Yes, you are, if you can't manage to talk properly."
"Linly not talking properly either," he hissed back.
They glared at each other for a moment. The taller child sighed and tried again. "Meh meh meh." She bounced on her toes a little to increase the breathless quality of her complaint. "Linly trick Tatsu all the time. Not fair."
The rounder, shorter child took a deep lungful of air, swelling like a party balloon. "If you keep acting so dumb," he said with painful care, "you have only yourself to blame, Tater." He released the last of his breath in a rush.
Lin stared at the Nopon with round eyes. "Oh my gosh! Tatsu! I didn't know you could talk normal."
"Linly not know a lot of things," he said smugly.
"Okay, okay, but we need to practice some more before hungry people start showing up."
An hour later, they gave their first and best performance for the newly arrived Secretary and Commander. Neither youngster broke character even as one man roared with laughter and the other quirked one scarred lip slightly.
"Jesus, Kentaro, let's not ever do this again," Vandham said as they all dug into plates of curry. "This uniform is enough to kill a weakling like myself." He'd unbuttoned everything that could decently be opened, and the tunic was flapping loose around his shoulders.
Nagi was eating with quiet enjoyment, but stopped long enough to agree. "Granted, so long as I don't need to answer half as many operational details as I did today."
"Fine by me. Looking down at the city and trying to figure out the long plan kept giving me the willies, to be honest. I can spot whatever problem that needs fixing here or there, like the water plant or a busted skell, but the whole thing? I wouldn't know where to start. Hey, which of you did the cooking today?"
"No one can cook as well as I can, and you've said so yourself," one child recited in a pleased tone, if slowly.
"Linly best cook ever!" squealed the other with glee.
"Fine, but if I find a twig in my food, I'm flicking at whoever's closer, and I ain't gonna miss."
The original Lin pushed another plateful at the Commander. "What made you do it? Another bet?" she asked with delighted curiosity.
Vandham blushed. "Yeah, not that." He glared pointedly at the other man. "Some people voiced opinions that I got out of hand this past Christmas, with that little prank I pulled on Chausson." He gave a massive shrug and muttered, "Totally worth it, by the way." He coughed and continued. "Nagi here did an intervention, knowing that I was busting to do a prank for April Fools but also not wanting old Maurice to get dinged any worse." He looked at the kids from under his heavy brows. "You think it was good enough?"
"I'm not sure," squeaked the psuedo Lin. "What Tatsu think, uh, what do YOU think, Tatsu dear?"
"Firstest April bestest April."
a/n: March, check. April is next. At the end of that, May. Wash your hands and hang on. We got this, kids.
Vandham's prank on Maurice seen in "New Year's Surprise", shameless plug is shameless.
(PS. You want head canon about why Maurice got to be vice president? I got it, and it is blistering, and I will dole it out if you ask. You don't even need to say please.)
(PPS: I'm hoping to do another Apriltober, 30 stories, 30 days. Got a request, head canon, prompt, OC, NPC, ship, favorite indigen? Sling it at me and see what happens. Or I can just have people slap H.B. for 30 days straight, that also works.)