A bloody curdling scream echoed through the alley as a pain maddened woman tore at the suited man before her. Her nails, suddenly grown to the length where they could be dangerous, left red scratches all over the programmed skin. Someone was desperately calling her name, trying to calm her down, to pull her away from her victim.
"Get aware from me you witch!" The woman screeched, her hair whipping the man in the eyes as she whirled on her next target. Pain-blinded, she threw kicks and punches thick and fast, trying to inflict some pain on someone else to lessen her burden. The man behind her staggered, retrieved his sunglasses and left the scene, a stranger taking his place after the convulsing that normally occurred with the change over. Another scream wracked her body, forcing her to her knees gracelessly, hands pressed with knuckle whitening force against her temples. Her friend swore very fluently in six languages, one after the other, a skill that she had been very proud of since she discovered how much it annoyed certain individuals. Without getting into striking range, the other woman spoke soothingly, trying to find the reason for the sudden outbursts. Nothing had proceeded the attacks, they had immerged from a manhole almost five minutes before the onslaught of the screams and nothing had been wrong then. People studiously avoided them, most so scared they began to sweat or shake a little as the hurried past. Suddenly, she collapsed entirely, limp with exhaustion and an undoubtedly sore throat. Swearing again, trying to find some more obscure languages in her databanks, the still conscious and functioning program hefted the weight of her friend into her arms.
"You know, I never processed that code had weight in this damned place. Dear Source, what has you been filling your digestive systems with? That's it, the last straw, you are going on a diet!" As if on cue the other woman groaned feebly. "Yeah, you heard me, a diet. D-I-E-T. Hey, did you notice that the first three letters in diet are the same as in died. I wonder if that has any significance at all."
"Hello, may I be of assistance?" A distinctively Asian man asked quietly from an alleyway opening.
"Sure, as long as you don't try to beat the coding out of either of us first. She bloody heavy!"
"I see that the Oracle's cookies have been making a difference."
"Nah, I just think the Source wanted to punish me for my choice of occupations." The man smiled slightly, indicating that the door on his right was the appropriate threshold to walk over.
"The Oracle has been waiting for your return patiently. Did Diablo and John come of any assistance?"
"Not a byte. Do you think those idiots could find us before we formulated an escape plan? Nope, gees they amount to pretty much cipher." With a firm nod of her head, the weight-bearer lugged her friend into the apartment of the wise program.
"Oh dear, you better set her down somewhere honey, and then come have a seat yourself."
"You know, I think that might be a great idea." Without another word, the limp form was deposited on a couch, settled into a comfortable position and the other woman was happily off her feet on a wooden chair in the kitchen.
"So, you didn't get any help from the boys, huh?"
"As I told this guy, not a byte. We got out quick-smart once the opportunity arose."
"You know, that hair colour is really lovely," the Oracle said, completely on a tangent to the earlier discussion, "how did you get it?"
"Zoe taught me the trick of it, I can change it to any colour I want. But I really like the purple, it goes really nicely with my outfit." The smile was all that needed to be said in honesty, Caitlyn beaming from ear to ear with her success in manipulating code.
"Well, honey, you can keep that colour as long as you tell me exactly how you got out of the Chateau, as far as I know, no one has ever escaped before."
"No one has Oracle." Confirmed Seraph quietly.
"I know dear, even you left there by choice." She took out a cigarette. "That's the problem Caitlyn, choice. You can't live with it and you can't live without it, but making one seems like you have no options at all sometimes." The silence fell for a moment before the Bold launched into her tale, with a little prompting from the wise woman who kneaded cookie dough as the story wove itself.
*~*
A/N: I know, I do some very strange things. Got the urge to post very quickly this time. Please let me know what you think :)
Beguile: It's okay, Diablo and Smith are buddies, sort of, they won't kill each other. This is sort of a, just incase you thought Zoe was pulling the whole delete Diablo, chapter. Don't worry, Persephone will get her moment, just you wait and see…