Author's notes:
Hey! Two more reviews! Thank you Aisha-chan and Fifilafemme! Since it's STILL Christmas, I'm handing out snickerdoodles! Enjoy!!
This is it. The final installment of my Christmas present. This is gonna take a while. . .Christmas DOES end a bit later in Hawaii than it does in the rest of the world. . .
I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters, anyone that has appeared in a myth, any food, any motorcycles, the song "Don't Stop!" (that's dj TAKA feat. JP Miles), any cars, or my own cell phone (as I'm NOT paying for it). Again, the only thing I own is myself (and I'm appearing again. . .sorry, folks).
Let's GO!
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The drive up the Pali Highway would have been relaxing, if the other drivers followed the speed limit. Varon swore under his helmet as yet another car sped by at what seemed to be double the posted speed limit. The Leviathan had recovered, and the first person who made the mistake of hitting him would pay with their soul. . .and then their wallet!
Raphael said that lunch/dinner at the Nu'uanu Pali had been the most enjoyable experience on the trip so far. He'd talked Amelda into taking a picture of the cliffs. Varon was stuck bringing lunch. He'd chosen manapua, because they were dirt cheap.
Suddenly, Varon's engine began to sputter. The cars behind him swerved desperately. He had do something quickly, because the bus that was coming up behind him didn't look like it was going to stop in time. A small fork in the road presented itself. He turned, and managed to pull up to the curb before his engine died altogether.
The bus didn't take the hint.
Varon swore again as the bus passed far too close to him for comfort. The bus stopped directly in front of him. A plume of smoke made Varon grateful that he hadn't removed his helmet. Something jumped off the bus. The bus started to move again. The helmet kept most of the smoke out of his lungs. The figure sat at the bus stop, completely intent on something in its hands.
Varon did a quick check of his motorcycle, but nothing seemed out of order. Out of frustruation, he kicked the nonresponsive vehicle. Something disturbed his peripheral vision. He took off his helmet, and stared.
She (?) wore a bulky jacket, loose jeans, and sneakers. Varon based his analysis of the person's gender on the face that gave him a quizzical look. The person spoke. It was definitely female. And irritating.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, occasionally glancing at the object in her hands, which appeared to be a cell phone. A cell phone in four parts.
The others would probably be at the Nu'uanu Pali, waiting for their lunch, which was currently stuck in the middle of a residential district. The only person he'd seen that wasn't in a moving vehicle couldn't call for help. He wasn't sure what to say. A mosquito bit him.
"Hmm? Why are the mosquitos congregating around your motorcycle?" she asked. Did she ever stop asking questions? She'd be better company if she could do something about that squeaky voice. It was about as irritating as Amelda's voice.
Against his better judgement, Varon opened the seat of his motorcycle and took out the box containing lunch. The girl took a sniff of the air, then gave him a horrified look.
"You DARED to take pork over the Pali? No wonder your motorcycle stopped working!" This was the first time he'd heard anything like that. He gave her the same look he would give, say, a space alien.
"Judging by your complexion, I'd say you're not from around here. Legend goes that taking pork to the Nu'uanu Pali is a bad thing, because your vehicle will break down. We're still a good distance from the cliffs," she added. He hadn't had time to brush up on the local mythology. She reached for the boxes. He snatched them away.
"They're not for you," he told her briskly. She nodded.
"Who are they for?" she asked. Again.
"My friends," he responded. She arched an eyebrow.
"How many friends? That's enough to feed an army."
"Just two." He was getting mighty tired of her questions.
"Where are they?" she asked, for the umpteenth time.
"At the Nu'uanu Pali," he answered, hopefully for the last time.
"Hmm. . .please wait a bit. . ." she muttered. He had no idea what she had in mind. Her cell phone was still in pieces. In moments, it had transformed into one piece. She punched several more buttons than seemed necessary.
"Hi mom, it's me. Can I borrow the car? Yes, I KNOW you can't leave the house, but I can drive. I promise I won't crash it. No, I won't be gone long. Yes, I have my license. I'll be home in about ten minutes." She stopped the conversation. She was old enough to drive?
"Looks like you're in luck. My mom is stuck at home, so I've got the car to myself. However, you are leaving your lunch with your motorcyle." He'd just gotten a ride out of Nowheresville. He wasn't about to complain.
"I'll be back in about ten minutes. Please sit tight," she added. With a wave, she disappeared into the valley. The mosquitos buzzed hungrily. He hastily put the manapua back into the motorcycle. He also locked the motorcycle. If she didn't come back, he could always catch the bus she had hopped off of.
She returned before the bus did, in a white sports car. It looked like one of many others on the island. She wore a malicious grin on her face. He thought about bringing his helmet, but decided against it. With that expression on her face, the only thing that could save him would be a full suit of armor. He regarded the flowery seats with disgust before hopping in.
The traffic must have sensed a psychotic driver on the road, because no cars went up the Pali Highway. She made it onto the highway smoothly.
The road to the Nu'uanu Pali wasn't far from the place his motorcycle had quit doing its job. The side of the road didn't look like the safest place to be walking. The small road that she turned on looked like it belonged in a horror movie. So did the figure that appeared in the trees. He looked again. The figure was gone. He'd best keep that to himself!
The parking lot looked like a mess of asphalt. Two motorcycles were parked near the exit. They hadn't left.
Raphael read a small sign near the railing. Amelda's camera clicked merrily. It was his third or fourth one in three days.
Raphael arched an eyebrow as Varon exited from the car. His other eyebrow went up as he saw the driver of the car. Amelda turned. He dropped his camera, which broke with a merry crash.
"YOU RUINED MY DECK!" the redhead screamed. A few other tourists looked at Amelda, then looked back at the view. The latter was far prettier. Bits of blue sky peeked out of the clouds. The wind whipped the remainder of Amelda's camera off of the cliff.
"Uh. . .sorry?" she asked/apologized. Raphael shook his head. Varon stared at the girl in shock. First a driver, and now a duelist? Dartz had mentioned that he preferred the souls of duelists. He reached for his deck. . .
. . .and felt an incredible wave of heat. Two Prominence Dragons stood between him and the girl, who looked puzzled.
"You. . .know each other?" she asked. When would she stop?
"If I knew you could duel, I would have taken your soul," Raphael said, somewhat sadly. Did she know all of them? The Prominence Dragons growled. Amelda glared.
"Well. . .I'm sorry. . .but I don't duel for anything but fun." Well, that was a consolation. She was probably a weak duelist. Her soul wouldn't have helped the Leviathan much.
"I'm hungry. Where's lunch?" Amelda demanded. Varon looked down, a bit embarrassed.
"My motorcycle broke down. . .and she wouldn't take it with her. . ." he stammered out.
"I had a wonderful lunch up here yesterday," Raphael commented.
"That was probably cat meat," the girl retorted. Raphael's face momentarily turned an extraordinary shade of green. He swallowed hastily.
"Cat. . .meat? That doesn't taste anything like pork!" Amelda stated. How would he know?
"It's just a possibility. Madame Pele might have taken a liking to you. But what do I know of a goddess' tastes in men?" Varon was fairly certain that the other two Doom Warriors hadn't bothered to learn about the local myths, either.
"Where IS your motorcycle," Raphael asked, his face back to its normal color. The girl smiled merrily.
"Well. . .follow me!" Varon's eyes had been taking in the extraordinary view from the lookout point. The view was beyond extraordinary. Houses dotted the green valley below. An odd-looking island sat off in the distance. He sorely wished for a camera. From the sound of the clicks, Amelda had brought another camera with him.
Raphael started his motorcycle. Amelda took the hint and started his. The girl started her car, which did not make any sort of impressive noise. Varon sighed. If only his motorcycle hadn't quit. . .
The drive back was as short as the drive to the cliffs. In a few minutes, they were back in the residential area. Varon took out the manapua from his motorcycle, and breathed a silent sigh of relief when he saw that the bugs were absent.
"I'd best go home before my mom gets worried. Your motorcycle should start once you're done eating. Have a nice day!" She winked and started to leave. In a move that looked like it had very little thought behind it, Amelda stood in front of the car.
"You're not leaving until you get me a new deck," he stated. She gave him a small smile.
"Well, I guess I would owe you if you had really gotten me out of my English final. But the people you knocked out were up and about on campus half an hour later, so I don't think I owe you anything," she said, in one breath. Amelda crossed his arms over his chest. The redhead was asking for trouble. A bright ringtone broke the standoff.
"Hi mom. . .yes, I'm at the entrance to the valley, but I've encountered a bit of trouble. Do you want to speak to him? Okay. . .here," she said, as she handed her phone to Amelda.
"Your stupid girl ruined my deck. . .I don't live here. . .I'm not going to give you my phone number. . .AND I AM NOT HITTING ON YOUR DAUGHTER!" Amelda's face turned a very lively shade of red. Raphael laughed. Varon nearly choked on his lunch. It was about time someone put Amelda in his place.
"With good reason? What is that. . .you mean the two of you TALK to each other. . .she works at a where? Her boss. . .what, is this meet the parents? I SAID I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR DAUGHTER! Does she even know half of this? That's it, I'm hanging up!" Amelda angrily gave the phone back to the girl.
"I'd say that my mom was playing matchmaker again, wasn't she?" the girl asked, with a big grin on her face. Amelda's face went white, then extremely red.
"You KNEW? What is wrong with your family?!" Amelda grabbed the last manapua and munched, which was probably a good move. Varon had trouble breathing between his giggles. This girl's mother sounded really cool. Off to the side, Raphael's face had gone red from laughing.
"I. . .think it's time. . .to leave," Raphael gasped out. Amelda had finally finished eating. The girl was long gone. His motorcycle had mysteriously started. Varon had to admit, life was good.
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Author's notes:
SORRY MOM! I couldn't resist. . .
The title "Don't Stop!" could either be interpreted as Varon's final plea to his motorcycle, or to Varon and Raphael's silent wish that my cell phone batteries never, ever die.
Yep, I'm old enough to drive, and I duel. Varon's assessment of me as a duelist wasn't too far off. I'd probably give the Leviathan a massive case of indigestion.
The figure in the trees that Varon saw is a ghost that's been known to hang around that area of the Nu'uanu Pali. Lucky for him, I wasn't looking.
Madame Pele is one of the local goddesses, and she's been known to ask for rides, either in the form of a beautiful young woman with long, flowing, black hair or an old lady dressed in white. Local legend also says that she doesn't allow pork on the Nu'uanu Pali.
The crack about cat meat is still under debate.
I will NOT put my mom's side of the conversation in this fic. She's reading these chapters, and she will ground me for the rest of my life if I put her words in this story.
The next chapter will be a potpourri. . .and I'll finally introduce several characters that everyone is familiar with. . .