Quote of the Week: "We've Focker-ized him!" – Meet the Fockers
Yes, that's right! KKC is on schedule because KKC was smart enough to work on this chapter while waiting for computer access to Internet and started right after she finished typing the last chapter. Isn't KKC smart?
...All witty answers to that rhetorical question will be sent back to those who said them. -.-
Wednesday morning... he had been online all night searching for the website Lyonell had set up, and it appeared the cat wasn't as lazy as he first came off to be. Oh, no... Justin had found many an embarrassing picture of every person who lived in his dorm, not to mention pictures of those from other dorms as well. How the cat had managed to do it, Justin didn't even want to know. After all, he thought that picture of him at the age of four playing piñata with a hornet's nest had been kept safe at home, in the album under his parent's bed.
Of course, there were some more recent pictures, but he had chosen to ignore those. Except for that one with Shishiwakamaru talking to himself in the mirror; that, he had to admit, was mildly amusing. As was the one of Chrysanthemum running from a supposed water spider in the lake when the family had gone camping during the summer. But, he could never admit to anyone else that it was because the female twin's clothes were a tad skimpy.
There was no doubt he could make this backfire on the tawny cat. Chrysanthemum had a fearsome hold over her parent's digital photo album, and there were more than enough victims to help. Even without the help of Lyonell's twin, he had found a rather hilarious picture of the cat "playing house" with his younger sisters... and the one with a five-year-old Lyonell decked out in full make-up and a pink dress at his elder brother's wedding.
Oh, the possibilities. Lyonell would get his... starting at six-thirty AM, when moments from the cat's horrifically hilarious past were e-mailed to everyone on campus. As he finished typing out the code that contacted all the internet connections on campus and clicked send, Justin sat back, enjoying his revenge in process.
And all the while, Lyonell peacefully slept, unawares, in the bed across the room.
Sunlight was evil... for all the talk Touya had given about "entering the light", Jin was ready to throw the metaphor out the window. He would rather get a few hours extra sleep right about now than frolic about in the sunshine.
Rapid-fire tapping came from the small window that was set near the ceiling of his basement room, and the red-haired youkai managed to wake himself up enough to look up. The digital face of his clock blared out at him from over his pillow, and he blinked in confusion.
Since when did Rachel forget to make a roll call to make sure everyone was gone? Especially at... He squinted his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them, and nearly choked. It was close to nine forty-five.
"For the love of all that's good an' holy!" The shinobi yelped, jumping out of his bed and pulling on a shirt, then ran up the stairs, pulling on a pair of sneakers as he did so. His bag lay, nearly forgotten, by the front door, and he managed to slip his hand back through the door and grab it before the door slammed shut behind him.
The sparrow family clustered about him as he left the ground, the eldest (and therefore flock leader) flying just above his head. Had Jin not been in such a rush, he would have shooed them away. But there was no time, and the wind master considered just skipping his first period classes then re-joining the class in time for second period. Perhaps have a nice relaxing morning for a change.
Jin halted in midair, the sparrows either flying around him in circles or perching upon him, and gazed down at the sprawling campus. His first class today was study hall, anyways, so he doubted anyone would really miss him. With a shrug and a glance towards the walkways below him, he shrugged and descended by the small pond that was located near the cafeteria. Comfortably settled in between the branches of an ancient willow tree, the demon closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep once again.
"Okay, good, good. So all of you are here, and..." The cat demon paused, gray eyes scanning the room until they spotted a single empty chair, and he sighed. "I could have sworn Hanabi came in. Do any of you know where he went?"
There was a hum of collective murmuring from the class, and Shikyo leaned against his desk while his honors class talked it out among themselves.
"... Yeah, he did come in, didn't he?"
"Dude, who knows? The guy is always so quiet you never notice him."
"Actually, he wasn't looking too good. I think he might have gone to the nurse's."
"That would explain why his stuff is gone."
"Hey, since when was this kid in our class?" The student, an oni with reddish-brown skin, black hair, and a trio of horns on his forehead, cringed at the look he got from his classmates. "What?"
"And this is an honors class..." Shikyo grinned at Chrysanthemum's exasperated sigh. Although the next comment, kudos to Lark, was more amusing.
"Hey, we're the special honors, remember?"
The cat demon cleared his throat, gaining his class' attention. "Well, do any of you "special honors" students know where he is exactly?"
Total silence and an audience of confused eyes rewarded him, and the cat sweatdropped. This was bordering on ridiculous.
"Well, hello." The voice, robust and energetic, penetrated his dreams like a guided missile. There was no trace of shyness; not in the person's speech, nor in the way they viciously poked him in his side. Jin grumbled, lazily swatting the offender's hand away, and was met with empty air.
"Ooh, aren't you a grumpy one?" Same voice, this time behind him. He was sure he had picked a high-up roost for himself, so how was this person able to move so quickly in the tree's branches? Another poke in his side, and the shinobi let one blue eye open slightly. Whoever this annoyance was, they didn't want to be seen.
He could change that.
Jin could feel the slight change in the breeze as the person went to poke him again, and guided the wind around him, catching whoever was bothering him up in the air and suspending them. By the loud shriek, he guessed that this person was much less fond of the air than he.
"Let me down, you jerk!" With all the yelling, he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Sighing, he got up, excellently balancing on the branch, and yawned, then turned his gaze to the one who had woken him up.
Halfway-through his yawn, he blinked, twitched his ears, and blinked again.
"What, have you never seen a female before in your life?" Said female was no longer amused by the shinobi, and now had focused her dark blue eyes on him with the precision of a high-powered laser. She fought to keep her shirt from rising too high on her midriff, and it looked as if her long hair was about to strangle her. "Now that you've taken a gander, care to let me go?"
Although she was undoubtedly a girl, she looked amazingly androgynous, and her brassy voice was the same.
"Hellooo! Chili-pepper, are you deaf and stupid?" Jin grimaced at the reference to his hair's color, but snapped his fingers and the girl was lowered to the ground. She then smiled, went to take a step, and fell flat on her face. "Wha?" Her eyes widened at the pressurized circle of air around her ankle, and she glowered at the tree-borne Jin. "You play dirty."
"So they say. But, I wanna know why you were pokin' around 'ere, eh?"
The girl sighed, then tucked her legs in as she made herself comfy on the ground. Already the once lush grass had dried and was now yellow-gold and scratchy to the feel. She tilted to one side, pulling a pinecone out from beneath her seat, and cleared her throat.
"Well, it began in a galaxy, far, far away..."
Jin narrowed his eyes, obviously not amused at the joke. "Stop kiddin' and get to the point," he snapped. The girl shrugged, and gave the demon a quizzical look. "From what I heard from Hanabi, you're supposed to be a pretty good guy. What happened?"
"Eh? Whoa, wait there, girl. You know Hanabi?"
"Pssh... of course I do. We're very close, in fact." She paused for a moment to uncross her legs and check her wind shackles. If she was annoyed by the fact they were still intact, she gave no sign. "I just wanted to make sure he wasn't falling in with the wrong crowd. No offense, but demons aren't the best of company for someone as fragile as him." She gave him a winning smile, but something seemed to pain her, as if a headache had rolled in. her eyebrow only twitched in response, however, before she continued talking.
"In either case, Hanabi-kun has gotten himself in a bit of trouble in the past. I keep on trying to help him, but things always seem to screw themselves up, somehow. All I want to do is keep you, or that girl Holly, from getting hurt."
Jin was about to interject, but the bell cut sharply through the air. The girl, brushing her long blonde-brown hair out of her eyes, looked up, and grinned at Jin. "Well, looks like class is starting soon, isn't it? I better go." Her aura, although he hadn't noticed it before, collected in the palm of her hand, and she easily dispersed the shackles with sheer energy. Standing up, she dusted herself off, gave a salute to the wind master, and walked off.
"My name's Sa Hyung, by the way. See you around, chili pepper."
Jin rocketed from his perch in the tree as she rounded the corner, but the path was empty.
Another damn job... and so soon after the last report, he was started to wonder just what was going through the head of that idiot employer of his. Save humanity, his ass. What good would it be if he got beat to a pulp in the meantime? He wasn't stupid, he had sent one of his dust spiders to overhear Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Lark's conversation. Needless to say, it wouldn't be in his best interest if there was a shred of proof linking him to the crime; God forbid they actually catch him in the act.
As Rogerik deftly slid out through the basement window, he pulled the leather carrying case up after him and popped the electrical coil into the portable messenger. So, he had been provided with a floor plan this time, and loop footage for the security cameras. That and it was a private building instead of a museum this time. Consolance, perhaps, for making the other jobs so hard for him?
The power coil flared bright amber, and a hole in the air appeared next to him. Hrm... the boss man was really stretching his neck out this time. His next target must be a serious threat if it got into the wrong hands. The thief looked about, making sure none of the lights were on, and silently stepped through the tear in the dimensional barrier.
From the window, Lark watched it all with stormy eyes.
"I can't believe it!" What was it, the ninth time the carrot-top had repeated the statement? In any case, it was starting to get on Yusuke's nerves.
"Yeah, well, believe it, Kuwabara. I tried warning you before, but you wouldn't listen."
"Sit on it, Urameshi."
"Quiet." Both boys turned to Lark, who had more sense than the two of them, and had pulled on a warm jacket to block out the late-night chill before they had left. When she had woken the two tantei (Hiei was off somewhere for the night, most likely he had found a suitable tree; Kurama, she had no idea. In any case, he hadn't been in the group's shared room.), she had seemed to be drained of energy. Now, as they ran towards the energy signal - and thus, to get onto a 24-hour shuttle that took students and staff to Meucca - she wasn't even up for a suitable quip. It was... unnerving, to say the least.
They ran in silence for nearly five minutes, and Yusuke could see the street lamp above the shuttle station glow a faint yellow. They slowed, stepping into the yellow-tinted light, and Kuwabara collapsed on the wooden bench that was underneath a large chart with pick-up and drop-off times for the shuttle. Yusuke looked at the schedule, checked his own watch, and leaned against the Plexiglas three-walled shelter that protected passengers from the brunt of the elements. They had a good five minutes until the shuttle showed up, and a ten-minute drive to Meucca. Once they were off, it was back on the chase, with Kuwabara sensing the energy trail left by the vortex like a bloodhound.
Well, at least the idiot is good for something...
Eerily quiet, it was. Somewhere across the road, the spirit detective caught the ghostly white of a discarded plastic bag float and crinkle along the ground. A strong gust of wind carried it farther down the road, seemingly dancing in the air as it went. The street lamp flickered, and Yusuke eyed his other companion. Lark had wrapped her coat around herself, burying her face in the faux-fur-lined collar. Her black hair lifted in the breeze, playing about her face, and her blue-gray eyes were tired.
The Japanese teen winced as he stretched his shoulders and heard a sharp crack from his neck. God, he should have been asleep long before this; there was a test tomorrow that he had to pass.
Three pairs of eyes turned down the road, watching the glaring white headlights grow as the distance closed between them. The shuttle, a white bus that resembled those used for the elderly, pulled to a stop in front of the station, and they hustled on. While he seated himself on the cushioned seat, Yusuke forced himself to keep his eyes open; the bus was warm and quiet, save the soft humming of the engine - the sort of environment that lulled you to sleep. At least when they got off again, there'd be something to keep the blood flowing, something to keep him from falling into slumber.
He had to move quickly. Before, time restrictions had been tight, but never this bad; small wonder "his holiness" and "commandeer of the paycheck" had given so much info for him to start with.
He stood by the massive skylight that graced the high ceiling, and casually ran a hand over the locking mechanism. Why the owner of this house would bother putting a skylight in such an important room, much less one that could open when it was nearly twenty feet above the floor, was a mystery to him. It wasn't as if it was convenient enough to let a breeze through using the skylight, so perhaps the owner had conceived of such a possible burglary as what was happening right now and decided that if the thief was going to steal some of his most precious possession, he might as well have the dramatic and classic entrance that was common in so many spy movies. Yes, that time-honored tradition of opening said skylight, dropping a rope down, and sliding down to the floor, where one could then walk across the room, figure out how to unlock the picture frame (or better yet, take the frame as well), then escape through the same means of entrance.
Perhaps if the business of thievery didn't work out, he could be a home security salesman. People around here were sure stupid enough to be in need of his assistance.
...Funny thing, that. Here he was on an extremely important mission, and all he could think of were ways to keep himself out. Maybe it was getting too easy; there was no thrill anymore, not even when the lock clicked open of it's own accord and he carefully lifted the glass plate to make sure it didn't slam back down and set off any sound-activated alarms.
He pulled a loop of rope from underneath his short jacket, separated a heavy weight at the end from the length of kevlar rope, and pressed a button on said weight. Claws shot out, and Rogerik gently placed the weight upon one of the steel skylight girders; the claws clasped around the support, and he could feel the soft pulse as magnetism anchored it firmly in place. With a final check to make sure everything was in place, and no one was watching him, he clipped his belt to the rope, which had been dropped to the hall floor, and slowly lowered himself down. When he was a yard off the ground, he released the rope and dropped, a cloud of dust rising as his feet hit the floor.
Unclipping himself, he made a quick probe into the far corners of the room, silently searching for any security or alarm system whatsoever. A heat-sensitive kekkai surrounded the painting, which was propped on an easel and shrouded with an expensive-looking gray cloth. Now Rogerik was starting to get unnerved; even this kekkai was pitifully weak.
Something told him that there was a reason why such a "rare" painting hadn't been stolen; too few obstacles, too many careless mistakes taken in the preparation of the room. The closer he got to the large painting, the moonlight shimmering across the silken veil, the more every nerve in his body tingled. He might not have been as sensitive as Kuwabara, but even the thief knew when something was amiss.
With a flick of the wrist, the kekkai was dissipated, and Rogerik reached out towards the framed painting, before drawing his hand back with a grimace. There was definitely something wrong here; what he had felt from the covered canvas wasn't friendly in the least.
On the bright side, at least now he knew why that pain wanted the painting. Now, all he had to do was ignore the gut-wrenching feeling he got whenever he so much as touched it, take it out of the frame (and hope it didn't blind him or something of the like when he uncovered it), safely move it into the case slung across his back, and get out of there. Sadly, he hadn't brought a fake; he simply hadn't bothered, since it would take too much time and it wasn't as if anyone would check anytime soon to see if it was still there.
Rogerik gritted his teeth, reaching out towards the painting again; perhaps if his head wasn't constantly buzzing from the ki the painting was giving out, he would have noticed the trio standing underneath the skylight behind him.
In any case, the flash of blue light that blurred over his shoulder and left a smoldering mark on the wall in front of him was enough of a warning. At the sheer stupidity of it all, the thief chuckled, and turned around to face the spirit detective, hands in his pocket.
"Any reason why you're shooting at me?"
"I dunno... any reason why you broke into some rich idiot's mansion?" Although Rogerik was treating it like a joke, Yusuke was seriously grim. Well, that, the blond supposed, he could understand. Sighing, he sobered up.
"Yusuke, if you interfere, you're making a big mistake."
Another spirit gun blasted the wall, and Rogerik put all his willpower into not flinching. It was then he noticed the other two; Kuwabara and... God, it was Lark. If there was any time he wanted to make himself disappear, it was now, from underneath her hurt eyes. But he couldn't let his guard down.
"Look, if you don't mind, I'm on a schedule here."
"If you don't have anything to say worth hearing, I suggest you get away from that... thing." All the while, the spirit detective continued to let the next charge for his spirit gun ready itself, although the thief was fairly certain that it wouldn't be aimed at him. But, it was best not to take chances.
A heavy silence filled the air, and all the while the thief kept an eye on the large antique clock set into the far wall, behind his three roommates. If his info was right, he had about another five minutes to get the painting out of there before it was lost to him; why there was a set time, he had no idea.
"I don't care why you're doing this, and I don't care how long you've been at it. Let's just leave." Lark placed a hand on Yusuke's outstretched arm, lowering it and aiming his spirit gun at the floor. "Come on, Rogerik, please." He had never really seen the girl use such a tone with him before, and it almost distracted him enough to move away from the painting beside him.
The messenger in his pocket vibrated, then a loud beeping came from its tiny speakers, jarring the thief back to the task at hand. How long did he have left..?
Only two minutes... he was never going to get this done on time. The most important mission he had been given, and here it was all falling apart, thanks to Yusuke. If his employer ever found out, he'd be furious -- not that Rogerik would be around to hear it.
If he was caught, it would be a very long trip down to Hell.
Yusuke, noticing that the moment of indecision which had halted his roommate was gone, took aim again. As soon as the thief took a step back towards the shrouded object, he released the energy from his finger – a blast of energy that Rogerik easily dodged. Yusuke swore as the blond took hold of the framed painting, and heard Rogerik literally hiss in pain. The black-haired teen had to give the rogue credit; Rogerik wasn't letting go.
"You idiot!" Yusuke ran over towards his roommate, just as the bell tolled from the clock behind him. Still, he heard the furious clicking and snaps, and knew what it was: Rogerik's PK was unlocking the frame, and he was planning to take off with the painting no matter what threats the spirit detective could come up with. Puzzling, yes; Yusuke had known Rogerik to be the type to run if anything went wrong, so what was the situation now?
Bong...Stupid clock... it was ridiculously loud, and if they didn't get out of there soon, they would be caught by the owners of the house.
Bong... Bong...Halfway across the floor to Rogerik, Lark noticed a funny thing. The skylight... it was shutting of it's own accord, and between the bell strikes, she thought she heard something else. There was a definite slam, and the rope fell into a heap on the floor, severed through.
Bong...Bong...Bong...
Was it her imagination, or was the bell speeding up? Then again, she was too busy watching as Rogerik freed the sheet of canvas from its frame. He rolled it up hastily, only to look straight into Yusuke's fist as it connected with his cheek. The painting fell to the floor, half-into the leather case that the thief had brought along, and Rogerik followed, only to catch himself instead of sprawling out.
Bong...Bong...Bong....
"Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
"Frankly, I couldn't care less." He cracked his knuckles, then reared back. Rogerik, expecting another punch, flinched, only to be grabbed by the collar of his jacket.
"Urameshi, we gotta get outta here. Something's not right." Kuwabara..? Yes, that was who was keeping him on his feet. But, now that the sting of Yusuke's first strike was fading away (most likely to become a fairly nasty bruise by the next morning), he noticed it as well.
There was something... it was tearing away at the normal plane of existence, and he turned moss-green eyes towards the clock at the back of the room. The cast-iron curls and coils that held into the wall were rattling, and the clock hands were spinning around at an insane speed.
...Forget about the bruise tomorrow.
Bong...Bong...
"Yusuke, he's right. We better leave. Now."
Bong...
As the final bell tolled, the room was thrown into darkness.
There was no noise; no grand entrance. He couldn't see an inch in front of his face, and it seemed even the pull of gravity on him was weakened, but at least nothing had attacked. And it had seemed so, too, what with the build of energy behind the clock and all...
He felt Kuwabara's hold on his jacket release, and he landed smartly on his feet. Yusuke, once eager to beat the living daylights out of him, was over to his right, completely silent. Kuwabara was right behind him, so where was Lark?
"G-guys? Hey, where are you?" She took a step backwards, searching the black void that was the room. Midnight had struck, and nothing had happened, except for perhaps a power outage. But it was such an unnatural dark; nothing was visible. She supposed the skylight had been blocked, as an extra precaution to keep thieves from escaping, but then someone would have been here by now.
"Yusuke? Rogerik? Kuwabara? Can you hear me? Hey!" No reply... were they ignoring her, or..? Or what? Maybe she didn't really want to know. Well, for starters, she had seen a door over somewhere along the wall to her left, so she might be able to find a power switch there. With a sudden burst of clear thinking, she called forth some of her spirit energy in her palm, intending to use it to light her way, if not to calm her nerves.
There was nothing. She could feel her energy resonating in her grasp, but no light.
Okay, now she was scared.
"Hey, can you guys hear me at all?" It was a useless cry for help, but she started moving towards the left anyways. Once she got her back to a wall, she would feel better.
Something solid met her probing fingers, and she gladly paced her whole onto it, and suddenly wished she hadn't. It was cold, slimy, and unusually soft and fleshy-feeling. Her hand recoiled, but the solid object followed and wrapped itself about her arm. Nevertheless, Lark shrieked.
At the sound, the room burst into light and color. But not from what she had expected.
Floating in the air in front of her, well, she couldn't explain exactly what it was, but it resembled a giant cuttlefish in form. The tentacles were devoid of any suckers, but its entire body was lit up like some sort of bizarre fireworks display. If Lark hadn't been scared to death, she might have found the creature captivating, beautiful almost.
"Kyaaaaah!"
As one could guess, this wasn't the case. The screams seemed to only agitate it, as the cuttlefish's horizontal pupils narrowed to slits and it lifted Lark into the air, allowing the girl to dangle nearly five feet off the ground by her arm. The colors continued to flash across her vision, in a continually shifting wheel of shades and hues, and filled out the strange markings across the creature's soft, streamlined body. The fin that edged its arrow-shaped mantle rippled and moved as if the cuttlefish was underwater. But, although all of this was going on, she still couldn't see either of her male companions.
God, this had gone wrong so quickly... was this why there was practically no security in the building? Did the owners use this thing as some sort of attack dog? Rogerik had mentioned something about a schedule. Either way, it would take a miracle to save her now.
"Must I supervise you every step of the way, Rogerik? Yusuke?"
Lark blinked, then saw a fairly tall figure stride towards her. Purple robes clothed him, and she squinted to make out what was written upon the young man's forehead. "Jr.?"
"King Enma Jr., to you, Lark. I apologize for the incompetence of both my employees."
King Enma Jr..? Wait, she knew this bit of trivia; granted it would be easier to think if she wasn't hanging like a rag doll. Son of Enma... Koenma.
Dun-dun-dunnnnn..! Weren't expecting that, were ya?!
Well, this is a fairly long chapter compared to the other nine. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I'll be trying to get chapter eleven up soon. ;; How soon, however, depends on how much writer's block hates me. Now, where's Grimmy when you need him..? Stupid furball. -.-
Review and make me happy! No, really -- every review donates 50 cents to the "Cuttlefish Are People Too!" campaign.