Edit several minutes later: Warning. Tart swears a couple of times. I'm sorry about that, but I remember being a rebellious little kid all too well. And we all cursed under our breaths when Mommy said we couldn't bring the sheep from the petting zoo home. True, we did it incorrectly, and the syntax was all over the place, but it happened. And I mention the 'Ferrets' used in Garth Nix's book 'Shade's Children' in Tart's flashback -- you can't have a big desert planet without somekind of bloodthirsty flesh-consuming monster on it, right?
To make use of the word 'furious' in reference to Tart's state of mind as he stormed from the bridge, bound for some dark corner of the ship conducive to the ripening of his desire for revenge...would have been an understatement.
Livid? Much more like it. Completely infuriated? Quite appropriate.
Melancholy?
Surprisingly, it fit the bill more perfectly than any other emotion Kish and Pie might have imagined.
"Damn Ichigo," Tart murmured, balling his small hand into a tightly clenched fist and lightly punching the glass window he was curled up against. "Stupid Mew Mews. Stupid, stupid, stupid." He paused in his soliloquy briefly, reveling in how the words seemed to roll over his tongue. The worst ones, the ones that seemingly caused Pie to flinch every time Tart shouted one in a moment of heated anger, tasted the best, like verbal candy -- sweetened by the fact that they had such an effect on people. There were better words than 'stupid', of course: 'insipid', 'witless', 'obtuse' (living with the grandiosely spoken Pie had inspired the development of Tart's, and Kish's, for that matter, vocabularies -- otherwisethe threeof them would have been able to hold a conversation of even the slightest degree of intelligibility.) However, in his current downcast mood Tart couldn't think of any.
He scrubbed at his damp eyes irately. Tart hated crying in general; he especially hated the fact that it was practically a reflex for him. Tears followed every extreme outburst, every intense show of emotion (his face burned with shame every time he recalled how he'd become teary upon hearing Ichigo's assessment of him the first time he'd encountered her. Midget. Ha.) And of course, now was no different...although the reasons behind those tears were even more embarrassing than the tears themselves.
Pie's edict placing him under 'house arrest', as Tart referred to it, was just one straw placed upon the back of an extremely tired and overloaded camel.
It was Kish's reaction to Tart's plight (indifference? Tart had noted, with bitter interest, that the only time Kish had seemed even the slightest bit concerned by the proceedings was when he mentioned Ichigo) that had caused the poor dromedary's vertebrae to completely collapse upon themselves.
That had hurt the most, more than any punishment Pie could've levied upon him.
But then again, he had been replaced, after all.
"If you can't keep up...," the next words were punctuated with a snide fanged smirk, "I'm sure the Ferrets wouldn't mind you keeping them company for the night."
"KISH!" Tart looked horrified at the thought that his friend would even suggest such a thing. "That's not funny!"
"From this end, it is," Kish called, his back to Tart as he raced across the sandy plain; Tart frowned and made a half-hearted attempt to pick up the pace. It was hot, as usual, the dry, parched heat preceded sandstorms, which were a much more imminent threat than Ferrets. The creatures seemed to detest the heat, avoiding it at all costs -- although not even heat would prevent the inevitable if one's negligence led them into a nest pit. The weather stiffened his limbs, making it all the more difficult to keep up with Kish, who somehow managed to sprint over the desert expanse as if there were springs in his legs.
"Which are, of course, longer than yours. As are many other things." Tart jumped, startled at Kish's sudden intrusion into his consciousness. Sometimes he really resented the fact that Kish possessed the power of near-telepathy -- although his own 'special abilities' were, in Tart's opinion, far more interesting. Although the arid desert soil made vegetative manipulation next to impossible. He looked up from where his eyes were fixed upon the shifting sand, meeting Kish's roguish gaze. Even under such dire circumstances (Surfaceward, the limitless desert wasteland that enveloped their planet like a black curse, was dangerous in every manner imaginable, from Ferrets to sandstorms to a noticeable lack of hydration) the older alien didn't seem too entirely fazed by the whole ordeal, still flashing his trademark indelible smirk and humming snatches of some unidentifiable song, far removed from the scene of desolation surrounding him.
Kish folded his arms, an expression of exasperation briefing darkening his face. "I really want to be back before all the things that might get a kick out of eating us show up, you know."
Tart finally gave in, swallowing his shattered pride. He rose into the shimmering, sand dusted air, gliding over to hover beside Kish with a sigh of defeat. It was a private joke that aggravated him to no end, one that both Kish and their mutual friend Pie found hilarious (not that Pie would be caught dead with anything even slightly resembling a smile on his face in public) -- the fact that he had to resort to air locomotion in order to keep up with either of them. Being the youngest really was the nest pits, at times.
"Is it really that bad being a midget, Tart?" Kish teased. Tart's face reddened with irritation, only fueling the rapid return of Kish's grin.
"STOP CALLING ME A MIDGET!" Tart shouted, shooting off toward the sand dunes. Kish's laughter echoed behind him as the older alien resumed his steady gait.
They continued on in silence, only broken by Kish's occasional snatches of the broken melody Tart had no name for. Tart refused to speak to him, still sore and pouting over having been called the dreaded 'M' word. He also refused to resort to striding along behind Kish, although gliding expended much more energy than walking normally. Not only was he getting extremely tired, but his throat seemed to have developed a light sheen of sand on it as well -- and the 'oasis' they were bound for was nowhere in sight. Tart sighed again, this time out of exhaustion.
Kish glanced over at him, an undertone of concern in his voice belying his careless expression. "Getting tired, Midge?"
Tart started to protest but deciding it wasn't worth the effort. "Hmph." He ignored Kish, sticking his nose into the air haughtily. Kish struggled to suppress a snicker. "Come on, Tart, I know you aren't still mad about your miserable failure, now are you?"
"You're such a jerk, Kish!" Tart hissed, shooting forward again in another burst of energy. "I hate you!" he called back at his (ex) best friend, "And I'm not a...a MIDGET!"
A wave of dizziness halted his progress; Tart suddenly found himself plummeting towards the desert floor, his indignation having sapped the last of his energy. "Augghh!" he shrieked, his scream halted by his landing, face first, in the sand below.
His embarrassment only deepened as Kish's laughter rang out once again. Tart buried his head further in the sand, ignoring the grating sensation against his eyelids. He wondered whether he could find Oasis without Kish. More than likely not. Still, anything was better than his running commentary.
"Mmmph--Hey!" Tart yelped in surprise as a pair of hands gripped his underarms, bodily hauling him out of the sand (spitting grit and swearing like a maniac). Kish held him at arms' length, shaking his head and smiling to himself. "You know, Tart, if you weren't my favorite midget on this hellhole of a planet, I'd probably leave you here and let you get eaten."
Tart, once again, opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Being a midget was one thing, but being Kish's favorite midget was...Tart rolled his eyes; it was too skewered a compliment for him to simply let it slide. Screw it. "I'm not a midget," he protested weakly, not bothering to resist as Kish leaned over and lifted the younger alien onto his shoulders with a sigh.
Tart's cheeks reddened. "I can walk by myself," he started to say; Kish interrupted him, looking up at Tart menacingly. "You tell anyone about this, Midge, and you're dead, you got that?" Tart nodded, having tested the verity of Kish's threats before. "Good." Kish stood up, turning to stare at some far-off point in the distance. "Oasis is about a 30-minute walk from here. Think you can hang on without dying on me until then?"
Tart nodded again gratefully, wrapping his weary arms around Kish's neck and resting his chin atop his head. Kish set off into the midst of a vast area of golden yellow that Tart could only hope he understood how to navigate, resuming his broken humming.
Tart closed his eyes, allowing the vibrations of sound to tingle against his skin, tickling somewhat. Somehow, his image didn't seem to matter too much anymore. As he dozed slightly, lulled by the song he couldn't identify, the last lucid thoughts he could remember were deciding that he could handle being a midget, as long as he remained Kish's favorite midget alongside it.
Pleasant memories long gone and best forgotten; Tart shook them free, returning to the unpleasant matter at hand, as undesirable as it was. He sniffled a final time, curling into a sullen ball and proceeding to sulk. Not that sulking diminished the severity of the situation.
Being confined to the ship for an indefinite amount of time (because as they said on Earth, it would be a cold day in hell before Tart gave in Pie's demands, not even long enough to have his sentence removed) with his ex-best friend, ex- due to Kish's completely unacceptable obsession with Ichigo, and Pie the Semi-Sadistic Dictator Who Needed to Lighten Up and Develop a Sense of Humor, would ultimately result in one of three possible outcomes.
One, someone would end up getting killed.
Two, Tart would end up hanging himself from the deck ceiling with one of his own vines.
Or the highly probable option three, which wasn't really an option: He would go completely insane. Which, of course, would then result in options 1 and 2 occurring by default. Well, maybe not 2, he decided as an afterthought, although 1 was imminent in such a case.
At any rate, his next course of action was extremely clear, although he would've enjoyed having his revenge on his (once again, ex-) comrades before following through on it.
He had to get off the ship as soon as possible.
Which would prove to be more difficult than he'd originally thought. Tart momentarily ceased pouting, his forehead crinkling with the intense concentration that such a scheme required. In past days, leaving the ship had been as easy as deciding where you wanted to go, getting the picture in your mind, closing your eyes and teleporting there, a process which took all of 20 seconds, 35 tops when one forgot their destination's specifics along the way. It was, really, the only way to travel.
And then Pie had decided to abuse his power as captain of the ship and leader of the mission, which was more than likely the first indication that he was aware of Tart's disregard for his (STUPID, Tart thought bitterly) newly implemented rules. It was here that Tart resented the fact that Pie was, of the three inhabitants of the ship, the most intelligent of the group. Force could, unfortunately get one so far, and then you ended up powerless.
Which he was, because shortly after Tart's first attempt at assassinating Ichigo Pie had done something neither Kish nor Tart understood with the ship's computer and the defense systems, erecting a shield that permeated the entire ship (every single room save for the bridge); a shield that, supposedly (here Tart lost interest and Kish's eyes crossed in confusion during Pie's explanation) inhibited the usage of 'extrasomnal energy, preventing the expression of any abilities that relied solely on the expenditure of such an energy source'. No one knew what any of that meant save for Pie himself, forcing him to explain it again, this time using the 'dumbed down, stupid' version as he had once referred to the simplified terms he had to use with Kish and Tart.
Basically, the shield prevented the usage of anybody's abilities, levitation and teleportation included, save for within the perimeter of the bridge (where Pie hung out most of the time, naturally). Both Kish and Pie had protested loudly and angrily over this new development, and after a good 35 minutes of loud and angry protesting Pie had decided he couldn't take it anymore and relented, rewiring the shield's source code to allow everything but teleportation. This was good enough for Kish, who had then decided he no longer cared and wandered off to pine away over Ichigo as usual, and Tart alone couldn't convince Pie to remove the shield entirely. It was annoying, having to trudge all the way to the bridge to simply teleport, and it also allowed Pie to monitor his visits to Earth; however, Tart normally managed to buck this system by merely lying and saying he was going to help Kish or some other rapidly devised excuse that Pie always believed, for some reason. Tart thought it was either because Pie was gullible or his lies were convincing -- the real reason was because, in reality, half the time Pie was half-asleep or exhausted from worry-induced sleep deprivation and he never really paid attention to Tart's excuses anyway. Nevertheless, Tart managed to get where he wanted to be, through dishonesty or otherwise.
Pie definitely wasn't going to let him leave, no matter what excuse Tart gave him, and even if he tried to go through him and teleport anyway, Pie could simply shield the bridge and block his exit. No, stealth was the key, not deception.
Uncurling himself and wiping his damp eyes again, Tart rose to the ceiling, slowly so as not to accidentally bump his head. It was a method he used to sneak out during Pie's temporary lockdown periods; he would flatten himself against the ceiling, wait just outside the bridge entranceway, and once whoever was resting there either left or became preoccupied, ease into the room as inconspicuously as possible, and teleport as quickly as possible before Kish or Pie looked up. The method had an extremely high success rate; Tart had never been caught once. He allowed himself to snicker at his own sheer brilliance before setting out.
As he headed down the corridor, intently keeping an eye out for either of his (ex-) teammates, Tart found himself wondering exactly what he planned on doing after liberation. The thought of running away had never occurred to him -- Tart didn't want to stay on Earth as it was. He wanted to help Deep Blue purge the planet and clear it for the habitation of the remaining members of their race; although he didn't really have any family left on their planet, save for a few obscure cousins, he did have friends other than Kish and Pie, and in the period of time since their departure he'd begun to miss them, as well as having other people to talk to -- people who weren't human, because humans were idiots (save for one of the Mew Mews, Pudding, who Tart had decided wasn't too bad), and people who weren't backstabbing traitors or maniacal tyrants (i.e. Kish and Pie). He severely doubted Pie would ever let him assist in the mission again if he discovered that Tart had snuck out even after being placed on house arrest. And there was no way in heck he would resign himself to remaining on Earth with the masses of flaming stupidity.
He grimaced as his thoughts turned back to the root of the problem: Ichigo.
Tart hated her. He'd never hated anyone or anything, not even Ferrets, as much as he hated Ichigo Momomiya.
Not only was the girl a dimwit, but she stood in the way of the success of their mission...and she'd screwed everything up by casting some infatuation spell on Kish, causing him to fall madly in love with her. The resulting Kish was unbearable -- all he thought and talked about (not in front of Pie, of course, because Pie would have KILLED him) was Ichigo, sitting in the window and staring at Earth, walking around in a pink haze, and behaving much in the manner of a love-sick puppy. It was, Tart could definitely conclude with very little thought given to how he felt about it, absolutely disgusting.
Even then the thought of the change in Kish made Tart grind his teeth together so hard he thought they would shatter -- the other day Kish had cried, when he thought the others weren't looking. CRIED. Tart's cheeks had reddened in shame at the thought; the old Kish had never cried over anything. Even worse was his reaction whenever Tart told him exactly what he thought of Ichigo; Kish either snapped at him, brought up the unpleasant subject of Pudding, or simply glared at him.
Kish had some pretty deadly glares.
Even still, Tart thought of him as a friend, almost like the older brother that put baby sandworms in your bed and called you all sorts of dreadful names, but was prone to fits of violent anger if someone else had the audacity to do the same.
The thought that the Blue Knight had almost taken that away was something he'd pushed to the far corners of his mind, never allowing it to creep past. As long as the memories were relegated to the shadows, they technically didn't exist.
He was nearing the entranceway; Tart didn't see anyone there, although he still proceeded with caution. It made his little homicidal heart tingle with something akin to pain, remembering what he referred to as 'the good old days' -- the long trip to Earth had been the best part of the entire mission so far, spent arguing with Pie over increasing the rations and providing a distraction while Kish stole the very food they were arguing over the dispensal of; talking about how they would go about cleansing the planet; honing their abilities (THAT had been the most fun because it involved himself, Kish, knives, and a badly drawn picture of Pie)...and then the parts that made him feel uncomfortably warm and fuzzy, although they were very comforting when one was injured during battle and in dire need of a pick-up. Lying in bed at night, sharing his aspirations with Kish, their collective visions of Earth, which was rumored to be absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, racing from one end of the ship to the other against Kish and always losing, to the backdrop of Pie's caustic commentary, being comforted by either Kish or an awkward Pie after screaming himself awake after a nightmare (his mother had died shortly before they departed, and in spite of his attempts not to care...he did), Kish unashamedly hugging him close enough to hear his heartbeat, patting his head and telling him what he always did...
He shook his head free of those thoughts again. No use in dwelling on a past that seemed to have dissolved into nothingness.
"...makes it worse. It hurts, I guess." Kish's voice sounded tired, with a twinge of hopelessness that Tart had never heard in it before.
Tart paused; Kish and Pie were obviously still in the room. He pressed his body against the wall outside the entranceway, eavesdropping on the conversation.
Pie sighed as Kish continued, miserably. "We can't win against him, Pie. We can't even try."
Tart rolled his eyes condescendingly; the Blue Knight couldn't be THAT difficult. Kish was just a wimp. And then he heard a new sound: sniffling. He blinked in amazement; it sounded as if Kish were crying again. When had his (ex-) best friend become such a whiner, anyway? Oh. Right. That damn Ichigo. Tart's fists clenched again -- he was becoming very sick of Ichigo Momomiya.
It hit him then, what he had to do.
He had to get rid of her to make everything right again. Everything.
Tart's resolve strengthened with each passing second, imagining what it would be like without having to suffer another pride-shattering defeat or hear about the pink-haired twit. Everything would be perfect. He wondered why he'd even had to speculate what to use his little vacation for -- it was evening, on Earth. The Mew Mews wouldn't be together (Pie had made that determination, back during the pathetically botched Operation 'Kidnap The Tiny Blonde Girl And Hold Her For Ransom'.) The only reason he'd failed killing her the first time was because he'd allowed himself to get upset at her 'midget' insults. This time his mind was made up. Zip in, put his favorite stolen hunting knife (a blue pearl-handled beauty lifted from an grizzled old lady's pawn shop; that one he hadn't even had to BOTHER with teleportation after hours, he'd just walked right in and then right back out with the knife in tow. He wondered how the woman conducted any kind of legitimate business at all) in her back and teleport from the scene of the crime back to the bridge; he'd be back before anyone even discovered he was gone (Kish and Pie thought he was sulking in some dark corner and probably didn't expect him to show up for some time). Talk about sheer brilliance.
"I need you to baby-sit Tart."
"What in the h-" Tart yelled before he could catch himself; thankfully the sound was drowned out by Kish's own shout of protest. He clamped his hand over his mouth, leaning in towards the door so he could hear better. That isn't to say he was liking what he was hearing.
"It's just for a few hours. I'd ask for your assistance in the survey but I don't trust him enough to believe that he'd obey my orders and remain on the ship with neither of us to look after him."
Kish mumbled something inaudible; he must have still been angry over Tart's reference to Ichigo. All the more reason to do the girl in as soon as possible.
"He's going to get himself killed if he keeps it up."
Tart's eye twitched as Kish answered indifferently, becoming even more annoyed as it progressed. So Pie thought he was completely incapable of defending himself, and Kish didn't care. Supposedly. Tart found he liked using that word a lot better than simply leaving it at that -- Kish didn't care. It was childish, of course, but he couldn't accept the fact that instead of simply being replaced, he'd been discarded. Even if Kish didn't really like him that much at that point, he couldn't dislike him enough to not give a damn about his continued existence. Right?
Tart hoped so.
The bridge fell silent, indicating Pie's retreat, yet Tart didn't move from his spot pressed against the wall, like a shadow. The thought of being 'baby-sat' was not only insulting...it was amusing. Although Tart wasn't too pleased with Kish's attitude, Pie's absence made his assassination mission much easier. Kish wasn't capable of using the shield, as Pie was. If he chose to, he could simply rush into the room and teleport, free of resistance. And if Kish didn't really care, he (Tart, once again, hoped) wouldn't provide too much resistance. Nothing that a few well directed vines couldn't handle, at any rate. But that could wait, for a moment.
Tart didn't like to think of himself as being too vindictive.
But he did like the concept of revenge, craved it, actually. And Kish (and Pie, for that matter, but he would have to get his well deserved comeuppance when he returned) hadn't been too nice to him, had gone as far as to say some things that cut pretty deep. Not deep enough to wound, exactly...but they still stung. And Tart wasn't having it.
His irritated frown slowly curled upward into a devious grin, his tiny fangs gleaming in the dim light of the corridor.
Revenge was a dish best served cold...but even lukewarm was better than nothing at all.
Kish had decided that the situation reminded him very much a particularly bad movie the three of them had watched late one lockdown period, in-between various arguments and carelessly slung insults. In an attempt to hold down the fort free of any incidences of bloodshed, Pie had hacked into one of the Tokyo cable networks and converted the bridge computer terminal into a television of sorts. Both Tart and Kish had been instantly silenced, held enthralled by the ridiculous commercials, assortment of utterly ridiculous animated shows (most of which fell under the same category: a young human girl bestowed with the responsibility of protecting this that or the other city, nation or planet from the forces of evil while adorned in the skimpiest costumes imaginable. There was something very familiar about those, but Kish couldn't put his finger on what made them so familiar), racy soap operas (those had held the interest of every member of the audience, Pie included), and, of course, the bad movies that would have been painful to watch were they not simultaneously hilarious.
The movie he was thinking of hadn't held any special significance at the time, an American film with Japanese subtitles; a human girl, a teenager, was left in charge of two bratty human children who proceeded to make her life utter hell for several hours straight. Tart was amused; Pie was absolutely horrified by the insolence of the two children, claiming that it was only more proof that the human race was nothing but a festering wart on the face of existence. Kish wondered why the girl hadn't just slit both the childrens' throats when she had the chance.
Tart was expecting him to run in the other direction; planned on making his 'baby-sitting' job as difficult as possible in hopes of forcing Kish to let him run wild.
The kid had another thing coming, alright.
Kish managed to retain his cool with much less difficulty than Tart anticipated, waiting until the last vestiges of Tart's psychotic laughter finished echoing throughout the bridge then fixing him with a cold stare. "Was that supposed to be intimidating?"
Tart attempted to hide his surprise, failing miserably. Obviously he hadn't received the reception he was hoping for. The younger alien opened his mouth to respond with some snarky comeback, finding he didn't have one. He resorted to the always acceptable raspberry, causing Kish to burst into peals of triumphant laughter.
"Two points for me!" Kish cackled.
Tart stared directly at him, locking his (pathetic in comparison) steely gaze with Kish's own, as if sizing him up. The smaller alien wasn't a pushover, not by any loose definition of the term...but he was either too dumb, Kish had decided a long time ago, to acknowledge that his abilities were nowhere near as elevated as Pie's or his own, for that matter...or the kid had more guts, spunk and moxy than any other vertically challenged being Kish had ever come across. Kish smirked condescendingly, teleporting over to hover directly above Tart's face in one fluid motion, before the younger alien could even blink. "So we're having a staring contest, are we?"
Tart flinched in surprise, loosing his balance and landing on his rear end. So far his 'brilliantly devious plan for vengeance' was going to hell before it even began to take place; he really hadn't expected Kish to be as 'mentally prepared' as he appeared to be, meeting every carefully directed evil glare with the aristocratic disdain of a pretentious noble, retaining the same aloof attitude no matter what Tart threw at him. His scheming had depended on being able to nudge Kish into a state of emotional distress, even to the slightest degree, long enough to force his guard down -- but Kish was, obviously, not having it.
Tart sighed inwardly.
It was time to resort to another tactic. A rather undesirable on, be that as it may, but he was willing to try anything.
"This isn't a game!" Tart whined, his expression twisting into the most pathetic face he could muster. "This is my sanity we're talking about! You know I'm bad with small places and crowds and-"
"This ship is huge, we're the only people here, and of all the things you could possibly be diagnosed with, claustrophobia is not one of them." Kish interjected, sounding bored. He folded his arms, staring down at Tart with a mixed mask of amusement and annoyance.
"Let's pretend that I understood what that word means, and it still won't matter because I'm going to lose my mind if I don't get off this ship soon!" Tart allowed tears to well up in his eyes, hoping his 'sad puppy face' was cute enough to entice Kish into letting him leave. It worked on Pie every now and then.
Kish eyed him warily for a moment, then sniggered at him. "You've only been here for 20 Earth minutes, Tart. The cabin fever cannot be killing you this quickly."
Tart's eyes overflowed, and he sniffled.
"And the cute act doesn't work on me."
Tart began to whimper.
"Neither do theatrics or melodrama."
At this point Tart decided he could stand the damage to his 'tough guy' image no longer, hissing some incoherent swear word at Kish. "What are you, heartless or something? Pie would have fallen for it!"
"Unlike Pie, my little black heart has no place for 'cute' things. Or whining midgets." Kish replied matter-of-factly. He considered mentioning Ichigo in his statement, because there the loophole lay, but decided against it. Best not to think about her until the Tart threat was taken care of.
Tart scowled. Kish's attitude was beginning to grate on his already low level of tolerance. "Look, Kish," he growled through clenched teeth, "I'm trying to be nice here. You already said you don't want to be bothered with baby-sitting me, right? So just let me leave and we'll both be happy. And I won't have to hurt you." He wondered whether his last words really sounded as menacing as he'd intended.
Apparently they didn't. Kish descended to the floor, pushing his face closer to Tart's until their noses were almost touching. "Do I look like a sap to you, Midge?"
On some ethereal level, a large cracking noise occurred at that moment, quite possibly the snapping of Tart's final nerve. "I AM NOT A MIDGET, DAMNIT!" Tart shrieked. Kish burst out laughing once again; even Ichigo's reaction to his mockery couldn't have been any more amusing. "There's nothing wrong with being vertically challenged," he managed to choke out, clutching his aching sides. "And stop using vulgar language, kid. You're underage, remember?"
Tart shot into the air, all traces of pacifism having disintegrated. "I warned you!" he shouted, briefly closing his eyes and inhaling as he summoned his vines; the looping green tendrils were more difficult to call into existence without the presence of soil, requiring much more effort; his anger seemingly fueled his adrenaline levels, however: within mere seconds several large, thick vines towered over where Kish stood, ready to ensnare him at Tart's command. "Say good-bye to your paycheck, Mr. Babysitter!" Kish looked up in surprise, his laughter suddenly silenced by the vines intertwining around his waist and dragging him backwards, suspending him in mid-air.
"Okay, you know, this is probably the stupidest tactic you've tried yet," Kish sighed, poking at the vine wrapped around his chest with disinterested.
It was Tart's turn to snicker, then. "You're only saying that because you realize how stupid you're going to look when Pie gets back and finds out that you let me escape! He's going to-"
"No, it's stupid," Kish continued, wearily, "because one-"
He tapped Tart on the shoulder, suddenly having appeared behind him. "I can teleport, and two..."
Tart jumped in shock, whirling around to face him. "Hey, how'd you-" His shout died on his lips as his eyes landed on the thin, wiry vines floating behind Kish, too many to count. "This isn't fair at all!"
The younger alien turned to glide away, wondering if he could dodge Kish's vines (which were a lot stronger than his) long enough to mentally visualize Tokyo.
Had he not bothered to think about it, Tart probably could have held off Kish's attack through sheer blind luck for a few minutes.
But he did bother to think about it, which he would later consider his most foolish mistake during the entire venture, and it was then that the vines shot out at him.
As it was, as the wires ensnared his ankle tightly, yanking the younger alien to the ground, and then went on to intertwine around his entire body, head included, Tart wondered just where all his scheming had gone so horribly wrong.
Wait.
Vengeance.
Oh.
"Two, I can do this just as well, if not better, than you can," Kish finished, winking at Tart just before the vines covered his eyes.
And the world went dark.
I am the wordiest thing in forever. Holy crap. And Kish just made Tart look like a punk, didn't he? I didn't mean for it to turn out that way. I'm not sure whether they're OOC or not; my entire frame of reference is the translated Tokyopop manga, so...yeah. Correct me if I'm wrong, please! For all you people that are waiting for chapter 8 of Denial, it'll be here eventually. I'm taking the whole literary license thing out of proportion because, once again, the aliens have no past at all. I'll explain what Oasis is next chapter, and as for Tart's mom, that's a little subplot started in Denial (I hate plugging myself but it really is). I'll explain that too, next chapter.
As for everyone who's all like, 'Tart doesn't like Kish that much!' Check out volume 6. Yeah. He does, although it's not explained in the manga, if he's willing to take on all 5 Mew Mews by himself. Isn't that cute? Kish also uses vines in this volume. So yes, he can do it too.
Pie's 'extrasomnal energy' explanation. Okay. Deep breath. Extra refers to 'outside' whatever subject you're talking about, and the word 'som' is used to refer to the body in many words. So 'extrasomnal' refers to 'outside the body'. As we know, the aliens exhibit abilities that require an expenditure of mental and physical energy, however, in my theory, such abilities would require a separate source of energy rather than that used to sustain metabolistic life functions, as Tart doesn't fall over with exhaustion every time he uses his vines. Hence the extrasomnal energy, obtained differently and kept separate, can be used to sustain their abilities. Extrasomnal energy can be (this is all my little weird sci-fi-style theory, remember?) obtained from the biosphere, the total sum of all the energy expended by all the creatures living in an area or on a planet; basically, the aliens get their power from the biosphere of Earth, or their home world, and in the absence of such, through each other (in which case it would definitely be weakened). So by inhibiting tapping into external sources of energy, Pie could either prevent or regulate the usage of their powers on-board the ship. Such a theory could also be used to explain the Mew Mews power. I don't know if I explained that well enough. Let me know if I didn't. I suck at explaining the source of my own delusions.
As for the flashbacks, those will explain themselves. Darnit. I'm still fried from school, anyway. And don't inform me of how many curse words I used, because Mia and Reika did it too. It's all for the effect, people. All for the effect. :wink: