Save my Sanity
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a humor fic, for forgive me if it sucks beyond belief. ^_^;;; It's not really that funny, I just stuck in random things here and there. This really doesn't take place in any specific period during the Escaflowne series. It's just Dilandau somehow stuck at an anime convention. .... Yeah.... All the characters are based off real people, and Raggedy Dilly is also real. ^_^
The setting is in an anime convention somewhere in North America. Fans of anime are wandering around the hotel halls, browsing through the dealer's room, checking out the mini-threaters and taking pictures of each other's costumes. It was a typical anime convention, really.
Well Maybe not.
Sitting behind a row of tables along with several voice actors, animators and musicians sat Dilandau Albatou from Tenkuu no Escaflowne. He sat uneasily in a plastic chair in his full leather armor attire, despite the fact he was nearly boiling to death in the heat. In fact, a bead of sweat was running down his forehead (but he's always got one of those, right?). His hands were folded together, with his pointer fingers twitching every now and then. His face was tense; the scar on his right cheek was clearly visible. Dilandau had attempted to use some makeup to cover it up, but it was too dark for it to work.
Dilandau watched the crowds of anime fans walk by in costumes. Most of them he hardly recognized. He noted a few Merle's, an Hitomi here and there, some Gundam pilots (most were Duos), some Slayers characters, too-many Vashes from Trigun, several Inuyashas and of course, plenty of Sailor Moon people. He kept his eyes open for a Van, however. Fortunately for the convention staff, none were around at the time.
A few fans lined up infront of the Dragon Slayers commander and asked for his autograph. Muttering to himself and cursing here and there, he signed black and white pictures of himself for fans, and an Escaflowne art book here and there. It was dull and too hot in the hotel for Dilandau to stand much longer.
He didn't like being kept in one place for too long. He was stuck in that chair for more than 10 minutes, and to him, that was too long. Dilandau really isn't the patient type The will to kill in his heart was strong that day, more than usual. He felt like jumping into his Alseides and burning down a city or two for a laugh and then killing a couple Kings. Unfortunately, the convention staff told him he had to leave his guymelef on Gaea along with his real sword. However, they let him go with a plastic one he bought from Wal-Mart
Becoming restless, Dilandau shot out of his chair and stormed out of the room he was confined in for too long. Fans backed away from him as he walked past them. They knew who he was and were downright scared of him. Even fans trying to get his autograph shook in fear of him deciding that seeing them dead would be amusing. Dilandau peeked into random rooms, trying to find one with as little people as possible and some drinks, preferably wine.
Unfortunately for Dilandau, there was no wine. However, he did come across a small room with a table with plastic cups and a few beakers of Pepsi and a couch on one side. Once he confirmed no one was inside, he entered, closed the door behind him, poured himself a cup of Pepsi and laid back on the couch and enjoyed his caffeine and sugar-loaded drink.
The room was an average temperature and the Pepsi was ice cold, but his armor still made himself uncomfortably warm. So, Dilandau made an obvious move and unzipped his armor from the front zipper and laid back again, only to find he was still too hot. He sighed and slipped off his jacket completely. He was wearing his light purple shirt under it. He just hopped that no one caught him wearing such a ridiculous color. What kind of a commander wears PURPLE?!
So there laid Dilandau Albatou, commander of the Dragon Slayers. He was laid out on the couch lacking his armor, clad only in his purple shirt, black leather pants and boots. One arm was laid over one of the couch's arms; the other held his drink. One leg hung off the side of the couch, while the other stretched out to the other arm of it and rested there comfortably. Finally feeling cooler and more comfortable, Dilandau sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, daydreaming about killing Van, just to enjoy himself for once.
Suddenly, the door clicked open. Dilandau's eyes shot open and he glanced towards the door. Standing there, was a girl. She was short, about 5'1". That made her atleast 7 inches shorter than him. He wouldn't have cared much about her presence, but he did. A few details about her caught his eyes.
She was clad in a fan-made Dilandau costume that included a small keychain of his movie design on the belt and she held a hand-crafted Dilandau plush doll. The costume was complete with jacket, pants, boots, tiara, white wig, gloves, everything. ...The sword was a Wal-Mart plastic one. The plushie had almost all the details of his outfit as well, but the fabric was cotton, rather than pleather like her costume. It's eyes were made with beady-looking black buttons, it's hair was put together with grey yarn and it stood at 15 inches tall. Dilandau blinked twice, staring at her.
She probably didn't notice him at first, but when he made a weird noise from his throat, she turned her heard towards him and gasped.
" D-Dilandau?!" She stuttered, obviously shocked to have found him. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black. Okay, so her costume wasn't perfect, she didn't bother to get contacts. That was something Dilandau looked down upon, but he couldn't help but be impressed with what she actually had accomplished.
He didn't say anything to her. Just looked at her. At first his expression was cute, his eyebrows up in surprise and his mouth closed. It wasn't until he realized he was staring at her when his eyes turned cold again and he turned away from her. "You cosplayers sicken me." He snarled cruelly.
The girl blinked. "And why is that?" She asked, eyebrows arched. She walked into the room, closing the door behind her and getting some Pepsi for herself.
Dilandau eyed her carefully, "You spend all your time and money making costumes that you only wear once or twice before throwing it away and making a new one. And most of you don't look anything like the characters. You can't get the hair right at all, and your faces are all wrong."
The young girl looked at him as if she were bored. Dilandau found this somewhat surprising, since he figured if someone cosplayed a specific character, that person must really like the character. But that didn't seem to be the case here to him. She was too calm.
"Well," she started, "most cosplayers are the bigger anime fans. They're the ones who are more willing to buy anime stuff. Without us, animes wouldn't get their boost in North America So don't give me any shit about the whole figure issue with cosplay, Dilly."
Dilandau looked at her oddly when she called him "Dilly". What kind of a name was that?! Dilly?! It was Dilandau! Lord Dilandau at that!
The girl glanced over to Dilandau, who looked either really frustrated or he just had gas. "My name is Jennifer, Dilly. I advise you remember that." Dilandau just continued to glare at her, his right eye twitching slightly. Suddenly, Jennifer burst up laughing. "Oh god, that expression on your face is priceless!" That wasn't the only reason she was laughing. She couldn't help it, especially after trying so hard to act calm around him when she really wanted to jump at him and give him a big hug. She reached into a hidden pocket on her jacket and pulled out a small black camera. "Can I take your picture holding Raggedy Dilly?!"
Dilandau looked at her, his eye twitching slightly more. He hasn't noticed that he had tilted his hand slightly so he was spilling his Pepsi onto his leather pants. "Raggedy Dilly? What the hell is that?"
Jennifer held up her Dilandau plush doll. "Him! I made it with a Raggedy Ann pattern so I nicknamed him Raggedy Dilly!"
Dilandau suddenly felt something ice cold hit the skin on his stomach, which wasn't covered by his shirt. He looked down and finally realized he had spilt Pepsi all over his pants. He cursed to himself and put the cup down, trying to wipe off the sticky liquid off the leather with a paper towel. "That's a stupid name. It's an ugly doll, too. Go away. Leave me alone." Dilandau wondered why the girl changed so suddenly. One minute she was all calm and acted as if she had just as much of an attitude problem as himself, the next she was all hyper and wanted his picture like a typical fangirl.
Jennifer sighed and sat down on a chair on the opposite side of the room from where Dilandau sat. She fiddled with her camera with 'Raggedy Dilly' in her lap. "I thought you didn't like being alone..." She looked down, speaking very softly and quietly. No longer was she all hyped up about Dilandau.
Dilandau went silent. His eyes softened slightly and he looked over to his plastic cup of Pepsi, trailing his finger along the edges. "True..."
She hated it, Jennifer wasn't liking how the conversation was going at all. Being alone was a big issue to Dilandau, one he seemed very sensitive about. She felt bad for bringing it up. She looked up towards him. The lost expression on his face and in his eyes was heartbreaking. Jennifer felt she had to change the conversation. "Do you like Pepsi?" She asked.
Dilandau sighed in relief. He didn't want the girl to start asking about his fear of being alone. It made him feel weak and soft. What kind of a commander has any sort of weakness that would bring such things? He picked up his plastic cup of Pepsi and took a sip. "I like it all right. Though, I'd rather have wine. Alcohol over caffine and sugar is my way to go."
Jennifer nodded slowly and reached over to the table, taking a cup and pouring herself some Pepsi. She drank the whole thing quickly and sighed. "I love it. I swear, I'm addicted to the stuff. The caffine, that is." She chuckled slightly, which was haunting simular to Dilandau's own, which he noticed. "Caffine and sugar make a dangerous combo around me, however. Watch out, give me ten minutes and I'll be running around in circles with Raggedy Dilly and yelling stuff in French."
Dilandau smirked. He usually wasn't the type to get into conversations, but the way the girl spoke to him and how she seemed to know what he was thinking in order to have a clean talk, made him very relaxed and open. "You speak French?"
"A little." Jennifer replied. "Learned it in school. I'm from Canada so I have to learn it, even though the French-speaking people in Canada don't have to learn English. How ridiculous is that? Come on, we have to suffer, why not them too?"
Dilandau chuckled. "Life isn't fair. But what is really ridiculous is how I never got a chance to actually kill Van!"
Jennifer flinched, and Dilandau noticed.
"What is it?" He asked in a cold tone. He wasn't going to let her not tell him why she reacted the way she did.
Jennifer fiddled with her camera, she absentmindedly wondered when she could try again to get him a take a picture with Raggedy Dilly. "Well..." She started, quietly. "By Van, you mean the real Van, or just someone dressed up as him?"
"I would LOVE to kill Van, though catching Van fans cosplaying as him would make good practice."
Suddenly, the door clicked open again and an oriental girl with shoulder-length black hair tied back and glasses peeped her head in. She looked over to Jennifer and smiled. "There you are. I was looking for you." She then noticed the beakers of Pepsi, "I see you've found your 'life-drink'." She joked lightly.
Jennifer froze. "Alice. Do. Not. Walk. In." She spoke, very evenly and slowly.
The girl, Alice, looked over towards Dilandau and her eyes went wide. "Wow! Dilandau!" Then she made a mistake. She walked in and closed the door behind her. No longer was her attire covered by the door and Dilandau now had a clear view of Alice's Van costume. The unmistakeable red shirt, tan colored pants, brown pleather gloves, boot covers and belt with another Wal-Mart sword attatched to it.
Dilandau's right eye twitched and he found himself reaching to his belt for his sword. Forgetting it was only plastic, he unsheathed it and jumped up from his lying position on the couch to a Spider-Man-like stance. "Van...!" He growled with a sadistic grin spreading across his face.
Author's Note: Will Van save Alice? Will Jennifer get Dilandau to pose with Raggedy Dilly for a photo? I don't know, I'm asking you! Yeah, this isn't done, obviously. I've been working on this for a while (damn writer's block!) so I don't know when it will be 100% complete. I'm still working with ideas on how it will end up.