Author's note, which shouldn't be here:
This fic was supposed to end at Chapter 14. But, something went wrong with my summary. As a result. . .I'll upload a few more chapters. Consider this a belated Christmas present. A VERY belated Christmas present.
Thanks for the reviews, Fifilafemme and Pink x Glass! The Christmas cookies have all been eaten, so you'll have to do with animal cookies!!
I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh!, any of the characters/monsters/quirks, any airlines, any airports, any computer systems related to any airlines, any storm systems, any hot beverages, any cold beverages, any beverages between hot and cold, any duels, the song "Stay" (owned by at least three different artists, because three artists came up with three different songs with the same name), or any restaurants. The only thing I own is me (yet again).
And off (the record) I go!
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It was supposed to be time to leave. As usual, something had meddled with those plans. As a result, the Doom Warriors were two days overdue. Raphael was not the one to sit around and wait. Instead, he was stuck following Varon to some kind of store. Curse Varon's sweet tooth.
The store in question was smack in the middle of a residential area. Just down the street was a public library. Like all public libraries, it was closed for no reason at all.
Children played dangerously close to the street. A couple of them gave Raphael odd looks as he got off of his motorcycle. Several young girls developed sparkly eyes as Varon walked up to the menu. From the look on Varon's face, this wasn't the first time it had happened. Raphael sorely wished for the power to seal souls. The stone on his chest simply sat there. It was nothing but decoration now.
Raphael took a closer look at the menu. Flavors littered the sign. Almost all of them were some sort of fruity flavor. It might suit Amelda's tastes. . .in candy, that is.
It was impossible to decide conventionally. He took out his cell phone. Unbeknownst to his fellow Warriors, he'd found a way to program a random number generator into his cell phone. It was the perfect device for tough decisions. He ran it twice. He counted down the menu and found the two flavors the random number generator had chosen. Cherry and coke. Just great.
Varon's order hadn't made much sense, but the condensed milk sounded good. Raphael placed his order, and in a few moments, the treat that Varon refused to shut up about started to melt in his hands. He let off a few less-than-pleasant words and watched in amusement as the girls around Varon scattered. Fangirls were irritating.
The icy treat was indeed delicious. The condensed milk made the entire thing taste like a cream soda. With some effort, Raphael managed to get the cone off of his hand. Varon got most of it off of his hands. A few bits still refused to let go.
The sleepy little community that the store was located in was definitely not meant to be a tourist trap. The stores were simple, and the prices were somewhat reasonable. The tourists were supposed to expect something exotic from Hawaii. Raphael's surroundings indicated that the locals were more ordinary than he'd ever imagined.
Things slowly changed as Raphael reentered Waikiki. The glitziness that screamed of tourism slowly creeped back into the scenery. He liked the quiet side of Hawaii better.
"Oh crud," Varon muttered as Raphael parked his motorcycle. It looked like Varon was up to one of his usual pranks again. He wasn't letting go of the handlebars.
"I. . .curses," Varon said, a bit louder. His hands appeared to be stuck to the handlebars. Raphael stifled a giggle.
"Well don't just stand there looking stupid," Varon said, this time with a glare. Raphael couldn't hold the giggles any longer. They were soon drowned out by another motorcycle engine. Amelda had come back from whereever he had run off to, and he seemed to have brought back something. Or more precisely, someone.
Whoever it was didn't move when Amelda cut the engine. In a few moments, Raphael saw why - the person was unconscious. He silently wondered how Amelda had managed to transport that person.
Amelda let the person fall in an unceremonious heap at his feet. It was the girl he had met up at the Nu'uanu Pali. What did Amelda want with her now? Varon's stream of curses stopped for a few moments.
"Did she tell you to get lost one too many times?" Varon taunted, despite his sticky situation. Amelda glared.
"I want my deck," the redhead stated. Raphael sighed. Amelda's obssessions were about as disturbing as his usual garb. . .which he thankfully did not wear in Hawaii.
Raphael thought he saw the girl's eyes twitch. Suddenly, Amelda went down. Before Raphael could react, the girl stood up and dusted herself off. She glared at the fallen Warrior.
"That was for knockin' my head," she said groggily. She gave the fallen figure a kick in the shins. . .
. . .and was immediately taken down by Amelda, who had only been stunned. In moments, the girl was unconscious again, this time courtesy of the seat of Amelda's motorcycle.
"I shouldn't knock her around like that. It will destory the precious few brain cells she has left," Amelda said sarcastically. Varon had managed to get one and a half hands off of his motorcycle. Another figure stood behind Amelda. Whoever it was stood about as tall as Raphael. He gave the unconscious girl a casual glance.
"She's supposed to return my CD," the new person said in a very strange tone.
"She owes me a deck!" Amelda half-screamed. The parking structure echoed nicely.
"Oh, you duel?" the new person half-taunted. The look in the person's eyes said, "you nutcase."
"I WOULD OBLITERATE YOU IF I HAD A DECK!" Amelda's voice bounced off of several concrete walls before finally giving up. It was time to shut both of them up.
"I'll duel for this screaming fool. If I win, the girl stays with us. If you win, you can do whatever you want to her." The other person looked at Raphael as if the latter had suddenly turned into a fire hydrant. Finally, he shrugged.
"Whatever. I want that CD back," he stated. Again. Raphael realized that he left his deck upstairs. The other person looked around at the parking lot.
"Perhaps you could think of a better duelling location?" the other person asked. Finally.
"Follow me," Raphael said simply. Varon finally freed his fingers from the handlebar and followed. Amelda was left with the unconscious girl. With a muttered curse, no doubt about her weight, he hefted her over his shoulder. It made her look like a sack of rice.
Perhaps the flight delay was a good thing.
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Author's notes, again:
Well, it's the return of my favorite shave ice store! It was also my return, even if I was awake for all of thirty seconds.
Amelda: You're much more pleasant when you're NOT talking.
Me: And if I don't talk, you three will never reach California again.
My friend had mentioned that he had wanted to run someone over. He'll get that oppportunity. . .next chapter. Stay tuned!
Varon: Bad pun.
Me: Not intended, go away.
"Stay" is one of three songs. All three are fairly sappy, so I won't go any further than that. It was actually a reference to Varon's little "problem" with shave ice syrup. . .
Lastly, I mentioned something in Chapter 12 that I need to explain. The term "haole", which approximately translates to "foreigner", was first used for the early missionaries and the like. Eventually, it became a term for "fair skin, blond hair, blue eyes, or anything of that racial background". It can also be used as a derogatory term. However, it wasn't meant to be taken like that. . .at least, not in this fic. I used the term "haole" literally - that is, I'm simply describing Dartz's henchmen as foreigners to Hawaii.