Author's Note: I am SO SORRY! What has it been, like, half a year now since I updated? I apologize! (grovels) Anyway... after what seems like a lifetime... here is the second and final chapter. Once again I apologize, and hope you like it. Oh, and a bit of a warning; Knives might be a bit out of character in this chapter, but that's okay since they're not on camera right now, right? Right. Thanks for understanding.
Disclaimer: All characters used here belong to Yasuhiro Nightow-sensei, and I must say that in all likelihood he has to be a quicker updater than I am.
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Legato Bluesummers stood on the front porch of the secret headquarters of the Gung-Ho Guns. He stared out at the expanse of soggy former desert surrounding the building, deep in thought. It was not, however, the thought that had plagued him countless times before. (Why on Gunsmoke did they have a front porch? They were a gang of highly dangerous and unpredictable outlaws!) Today he was feeling vaguely glad that their base was located on reasonably high ground. A veritable lake was creeping up the front yard, and, without a doubt, the basement would flood before morning if it did not stop raining.
"There goes my collection," Legato sighed moodily, chewing his bottom lip. After a brief moment of self-conflict, he turned and headed back into the house, bent on retrieving his boxes of brain-numbing manga from the cellar. Master Knives would never let him hear the end of it, but he flatly refused to let his one and only collection of anything be ruined with the water.
As the psychic hurried down the hall toward the basement stairs, he was forced to stop to allow a parade of sorts go by.
Zazie the Beast marched happily past with a spaghetti strainer on his little blonde head, banging on a pot with two salad forks. Legato's salad forks, the psychic noted with a frown. The good ones. Dominique the Cyclops skipped by behind the child, shaking an empty coffee can full of small rocks. E.G. Mine followed the only female member of the Gung-Ho Guns, hitting two wooden spoons together in time with her gravel maraca and Zazie's pan drum. And last but not least, Midvalley the Hornfreak brought up the rear, playing the only real instrument in the whole procession; his trusty and beloved saxophone, Sylvia.
Legato gave them all a funny look. Not that the Gung-Ho Guns were not a strange group to begin with, but this was just plain weird. Finally he shrugged and fell in behind Midvalley. They were heading for the basement anyway, and none of the other outlaws who inhabited the base were likely to get in the way of a band inspired by temporary rainy day madness.
Upon reaching the basement door, the psychic broke off from the band. They went their merry (and noisy) way, seeming not to notice that he had left. Not that Legato cared. He had more important things to attend to.
"Suddenly I have that sinking feeling..." he muttered, opening the door a crack. The steady drip-drop of muddy rain water leaking in at an alarming rate met his ears. With an obscenity, Legato leapt down the stairs two at a time to check the damage and stop it if he could.
Landing in nearly four inches of dirty water, he held the hem of his white coat up out of the muck and began the slow slog through the flooded room. He passed Grey the Ninelives' spare parts and Monev the Gale's Bowflex machine before he found what he sought; a stack of cardboard boxes stacked in one corner.
The bottom-most boxes were soaked through, which, in Legato's case, translated into totally ruined. "Well, damn." the psychic cursed mildly. This meant he was going to have to go into town and slaughter the owner of another comic shop in order to secure more books. That would be a minor inconvenience.
Then he saw the name that had been sloppily scribble on the side of the bottom boxes in purple marker. "Oh. This is Hoppard's old junk, not my books. That's rather better, then." Using his psychic powers, the blue-haired man hoisted the untouched, neatly duct taped boxes off the top of the ruined ones and ushered them up the stairs ahead of him. He closed the door on the mounting flood, wondering if he should bother telling anyone that their possessions in the basement were in immanent danger of being floated out to a newly created sea.
No, he thought mildly, I don't believe I shall tell them. They're all idiots. Except for Rai Dei. Rai Dei gave me the last zebra cake. Yes, I will go tell Rai Dei. Followed by his faithful boxes of manga, Legato made his way up to the second floor to inform the Blade of the fate of his belongings in storage in the cellar.
As usual, Rai Dei's door was closed, so the psychic was forced to knock and initiate actual interaction rather than just muttering the information and walking on by. He sighed. "Rai Dei, I have something rather important to—" he began.
"What's the password?" came the muffled inquiry from behind the door.
Legato sighed again. "Rurouni Kenshin."
The door popped open to reveal the samurai. "Alright. State your business."
"Just for your information, the basement is flooding. Badly. I thought you might like to be informed, in case you had anything of value stored down there."
"Plushie Kenshin!" Rai Dei screeched, kicking the door open fully and nearly knocking Legato over in his haste. Tearing off down the hall, the samurai made it down two flights of stairs in record time. Legato could hear him splashing and cursing in the basement. Despite himself, he was curious. What could the Blade possibly have down there that was so important? He decided to wait a bit and see what would emerge.
A few minutes later found Legato sitting on one of his manga boxes as the samurai reappeared, soaking wet but triumphant, holding a much-loved Kenshin Himura plushie to his damp chest. Clearly unaware that Legato had bothered to wait around, Rai Dei began to snuggle and talk to the doll. "I'm sorry, Kenshi-kins," he crooned, rubbing his stubbly chin against the doll's face and hair. "I promise never to leave you alone down there in that nasty basement ever again, no matter what anyone says about me!"
Legato made an odd noise in the back of his throat as he tried to suppress his laughter.
Rai Dei jumped a mile, immediately trying to hide the doll behind his back. "Oh, um, Legato! I was just, er, um..." The samurai sweat-dropped. "I don't suppose you would be willing to forget that you ever saw any of this?"
Legato smirked, getting up off his box. "Consider it repayment for the zebra cake from yesterday."
Clutching the plush, the samurai dropped a grateful bow and ran for his room. Satisfied, Legato headed for his own room to unpack his collection, wondering despite himself what other, odder wonders were hidden away in their little-explored basement.
O.O.O.O.O
Minutes later, Legato locked his door and pulled the tape off the first box. Tossing aside wads of crinkled newspaper, he began to empty the box of a motley assortment of the most bloody, violent, and disturbing manga imaginable. One by one they were placed in a pile on the carpet.
However, before the psychic could open the second box, he heard a rather loud and upset yell from outside his window.
"Legatooo!"
Running across the room, Legato threw open the screen and looked down onto the grounds. "Yes, Master?"
"Legato, get down here! And bring chicken wire! Hurry!"
Puzzled, Legato did as he was told. When he arrived on the ground level with a roll of chicken wire from the supply closet a few minutes later, he found his master, Millions Knives, embroiled in a life-or-death battle with a herd of scavenging tomasi.
"Get away, damn you!" Knives swung a broom at one exceptionally bold beast, striking it on the nose. "You can't eat them! Legato, hurry up with that wire!"
The psychic was at a loss. "What should I do with it, Master?"
"Put it around the seedlings, man! The seedlings!"
Confused, Legato scanned the ground. His golden eyes finally fell on a pile of discarded apple cores that Chapel the Evergreen had tossed out several weeks before. The seeds were sprouting in the damp weather, and the tomas thought they looked delicious. Sprinting forward, the psychic set to work with wire and cutters and soon had the growing apple trees surrounded by three circles of protection. "There, Master. That should hold them off. Master?"
The plant had disappeared under the swarm of hungry, angry tomas.
"Master Knives!" Seizing the broom Legato leapt into the fray, whacking the upstart beasts left and right. "You want some of this? Huh? You want some? Get out of here, stupid master tramplers!" His ferocity startled the tomas, who ran off through the rain. "Master? Are you alright?"
The bruised, trampled, and very muddy plant pulled his head out of the wet sand. "Shut up, Legato. Ah, my head!"
With a sympathetic noise the blue-haired man helped his blonde master to his feet. Physically cutting lose on the tomas had actually been quite exhilarating, and Legato wondered if just maybe he should give his psychic powers a rest and concentrate on causing destruction in other ways. As he was pondering this, a bright flash of light lit the surrounding area. It was followed shortly after by a loud, rumbling boom.
Knives winced. "Just perfect. More noise."
Suddenly Zazie, Dominique, E.G., Midvalley, and Rai Dei with the Kenshin plushie on his shoulders ran out of the house and began to run in circles around the plant and his minion, shrieking and laughing with a crazed light in their eyes. "Thunderstorm! Thunderstorm! We're gonna have a thunderstorm!"
Knives shot his minion a dumbfounded look, asking to be clued in. Legato shook his head. "I have no idea."
O.O.O.O.O
"Legato!" Knives moaned, tossing his head back against the arm of the sofa as thunder rattled the windows.
"Yes, Master?"
"Go get me some Aspirin! All this noise is killing my head!"
Well maybe if you wouldn't scream all the time, your head would hurt less, Legato thought reasonably. However, he obediently put down the feather duster and took off his apron. With a quick check on dinner, he ran upstairs to fetch Knives some painkillers. The sooner he did, the sooner he could return to his chores without being disturbed. And, if he didn't do the chores, who would? No one else in the base gave a damn whether or not they all lived in squalor.
"Let's see..." Legato opened the medicine cabinet, deftly avoiding the rain of bottles from the overcrowded shelves. He rummaged around, wondering if there was even any Aspirin to be had among everyone else's medication. Dominique's calcium tablets... Monev's Viagra... Wolfwood's Nicarette gum he had never bothered to use... where was all the normal medicine? The painkillers, the cough syrup, the band-aids? There had to be something in there he could give the master...
Just as Legato was about to admit defeat, Midvalley walked in with little Zazie over his shoulder. "Zazie, knock it off!" the musician snarled. Legato resisted the urge to ask if they had enjoyed themselves frolicking in the rain like idiots. "We go through this every day! You have to take them!"
"No!" the Beast shrieked, biting Midvalley's arm. "It's nasty! I don't want it! Put me down!"
Legato cocked a quizzical eyebrow.
Midvalley sighed, fisting a hand none too gently in the little boy's blonde hair. "It's time for his de-wormer. Gimme that bottle there, will you? With the veterinary symbol on the label. Ouch! You little shit, bite me one more time and I'll feed you to your own sand worms, I swear to God! Be still!"
"Nooo!" Zazie howled, kicking and punching. "I want my gummies!"
"My God, Zazie, let's put this in perspective! You're a damn parasite farm! The bugs in you probably have their own zip code by now! De-wormer first, vitamins later. Now open up." Between the two of them, Midvalley and Legato managed to force the pill down the child's throat. Upon being released, Zazie snatched the bottle of Spiderman gummy vitamins off the counter and fled with them down the hall, screaming ferocious curses and revenge threats upon his tormenters.
"Zazie, no!" Midvalley yelled, running after him. "You can only have two a day!"
Legato sighed. He had never seen a child so eager to take his vitamins. Maybe they gave him a buzz. He placed the bottle back on the shelf, wondering if Midvalley would be victorious. Zazie was the main reason the rest of the Gung-Ho Guns needed medication in the first place. They had considered getting him stuffed in order to have the cute without the unpleasant side effects, but his skills in sand worm wrangling were just too good to give up. Thus, no matter how annoying, they were stuck with the murderous little brat.
"Hello, Legato!" E.G. yelled, making the pondering psychic jump. "What's up?"
"Oh, hello, E.G.. Just looking for some Aspirin for Master Knives."
"Aspirin? There aren't any. Dominique took the last two yesterday because she had 'cramps that would floor a charging sand worm.'"
Legato shuddered slightly at the influx of way too much information. "That isn't good. Do we have any other pain relievers? The Master has a headache."
E.G. raised an eyebrow. "A headache? What, were you a little too rough with the master this afternoon, 'favorite minion'?"
Legato's eyes narrowed. "And just what, pray tell, are you insinuating?"
Before E.G. could answer, or even begin to consider just how bad an idea it was to make crude jokes at the psychic's expense, he somehow found himself, without conscious control of his own body, in front of the toilet. A second later his arm lifted itself and began slamming an important part of his anatomy in the lid.
Ignoring the screaming Mine, Legato went back to the cabinet. If they had no Aspirin, perhaps there was some Advil or Tylenol in there somewhere. After a moment, he found some loose pills rattling in the very back. They looked quite Tylenol-esque.
Finally releasing the hysterical Mine, Legato headed back to the living room. A few minutes later E.G. too crawled out, slamming the door behind him, and so did not bear witness to a bottle of Hoppard's "happy meds" falling out of the cabinet, dumping a quantity of remarkably Tylenol-like pills down the sink.
O.O.O.O.O
Later that evening, Legato retired early to his "chamber," the better to read some of his recently unearthed manga. Leaving the window open to a refreshingly cool breeze and the occasional flash of lightning, he settled back with a volume to read.
Seconds later, someone knocked at the door.
Irked, Legato lowered his book. "What do you want?"
No answer, but more knocking.
"Zazie, go away. I have not seen your sand worm plushie. Go ask Midvalley."
The knocking continued unabated. Still no answer from without.
"Damn." Legato set down his manga and stalked to the door, ready to send the little poncho boy on a one way trip down the stairs via the Telekinesis Express. "Zazie, how many times must I tell you to –" He jerked open the door.
"Hey, Legato."
Legato's mouth fell open as he stared, bewildered, at the visitor. "Master Knives?"
The plant nodded, holding up a case of root beer and a bowl of cheesy snack crackers. "Yes. I brought snacks." Without waiting for a response from his minion he pushed past Legato and into the room.
"Master?" Legato still could not seem to wrap his mind around the visit. "I thought you had already retired to your room...?"
"I did. I couldn't sleep for the thunder and got bored."
"But... aren't you tired, Master?"
"No, not especially. Besides, the thunder is actually quite invigorating, don't you think? In fact, I don't think I've ever felt more awake." Dropping the refreshments, Knives plopped down in the middle of the floor. "I thought perhaps we might hang out, have some snacks, swap manly stories, that sort of thing. What do you say, Legato?"
The psychic stared at his suddenly insane master. Dear Wolfwood's God, what could possibly be the matter with him? "Um... of course, Master. Whatever you wish."
"Excellent. Have a Cheezit?"
"Oh, thank you." Warily munching his cracker, Legato resumed his seat. "Are you feeling alright this evening, Master?"
"Of course I am. Why do you ask?"
"Well, it's just that... how shall I put this...? You just do not seem like your usual haughty, overbearing, I'm-better-than-you-humans self tonight."
Knives pondered a moment. "Well, earlier I had that headache, but as soon as I took those pills it went away. Now I feel fine. A bit on edge, but fine nonetheless. Would you care to play some cards?"
"Certainly, Master. However it might be difficult to achieve a winning strategy if we can both read each others' minds."
Knives frowned. "Ah. So we can. Then what would you suggest?"
Legato was at a bit of a loss. He had never been big on social skills. "I am not sure, Master. What do men usually do when they 'hang out'?"
"Other than eat and watch televised sports..." Knives thought hard. What else was there to do? "I seem to remember that spider-males enjoy drooling over magazines that contain indecent photographs of spider-females, and then proceed to brag about all they themselves have seen and done."
Legato blinked. "Ah."
Knives stared back. "On that note, anything to share?"
"Um... once, I walked in on Dominique while she was changing and she threw her jewelry box at my head." Probably not what was usually talked about under such circumstances, but it was all Legato had at the moment. "And yourself, Master?"
Knives waved a hand dismissively. "Spider-women are beneath me."
"Oh. Of course, Master." There was a long pause. "So. Perhaps we should go out and seek something to entertain us, Master? Surely there must be something we can do?"
"Good idea, Legato. Let's go."
O.O.O.O.O
As the two walked down the halls on their search for entertainment, there could be heard the sounds of various Gung-Ho Guns engaged in various evening activities.
Dominique was humming along to a Britney Spears CD, which could be heard even from behind her closed door. Midvalley, whose room was next to hers, was loudly playing his sax in an effort to drown out the CD. This only prompted the Cyclops to turn up the volume.
Chapel the Evergreen, whose turn it was to give Zazie his bath, could be heard screaming "The power of Christ compels you!" as he repeatedly dunked the shrieking demon child into the tub. Zazie's bloodcurdling screams drowned out all other noises for a long while.
"My goodness," Knives remarked casually, "everyone seems so busy tonight."
"Oh, it is like this every night, Master. Believe me."
"Is it?" Knives appeared surprised. "I suppose I really must miss a lot when I stay in my room all the time..."
"Possibly, Master. It seems that you entirely missed the invasion of sand crickets that Zazie unleashed on us two weeks ago..."
"Sand crickets? You must be joking."
"No, Master. The base was full of them for days."
"Legato, those insects are like to footballs with six legs and antennae. How did I miss something like that?"
"I'm not quite sure, Master. One jumped onto the table in the middle of dinner one evening and you didn't bat an eye. They got into the walls and under the floorboards. The chirruping was enough to drive one mad."
"How did you get rid of them?"
"I finally had to take over their minds and convince them that insecticide is a delicacy. They ate three packages of poison before I directed them outside to die."
Knives fought a smile. How like his minion, to kill the bugs where just herding them outside would suffice. He knew he liked Legato for something other than the cooking and cleaning. As it was, the psychic was the only thing that stood between the plant and starvation. After all, what evil genius and would-be world conqueror cooked his own meals? That and Legato was still the only one on base who knew where the paper towels were kept...
Lost in thought, they were in the kitchen before Knives knew it. Hmm. The kitchen was sure to have something that would entertain him. Poking in the drawers and cabinets, Knives looked things over. Maybe a snack would help settle him down.
"Master Knives? I just remembered that my door is not locked. I must lock it in order to keep Zazie out of my things. I shall return shortly, with your permission...?"
"Sure Legato," Knives muttered absently, pulling a box of pizza bagel bites out of the freezer. Just the thing. The psychic disappeared up the stairs as Knives flipped on the oven, humming a song by Queen.
O.O.O.O.O
It took loner than expected for Legato to return to the kitchen. He had arrived at his room to discover that one of the tiny imps that inhabited Grey the Ninelives had escaped and was going through his sock drawer. It took him almost ten minutes to catch the thing and return it to the robot, and in that time it had succeeded in devouring his entire stash of Slim Jims that had been hidden in said sock drawer. After bandaging his bitten hand, he went back to the kitchen to check on the master.
"Legato, there you are," Knives said brightly as Legato staggered in. "Took you long enough. That aside, care for a bagel bite? It's pepperoni."
"Of course, Master, I would love a—MASTER KNIVES, WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?!"
"Oh, do you like it?" Knives asked conversationally, plucking bagels off the baking sheet with a spatula and putting them on a small decorative serving plate. "I decided it was time for a change, and it just came to me."
Legato stared in absolute shock. His master had boiled up a batch of Kool-Aid and dyed his hair blue. The psychic felt positively faint. "But... Master... why?"
"Oh, I don't know. It looks rather fetching though, doesn't it?" Knives ran a hand through his still-damp hand, studying his reflection in the mirror over the sink. "Almost the same shade as yours, as a matter of fact. It's almost as if we're brothers, isn't it? Funny, that."
Legato gulped nervously, looking down at his left arm. He wasn't sure he really wanted to be related to the Master. "Er... Master, I'm not sure what to say... other than you are acting extremely odd tonight."
Seeming not to hear him, Knives offered the plate. "Come on now, eat up. There are thirty of these things here and I don't want to eat them all myself. Oh, wait! Watch this." Using his own psychic powers, Knives plucked one bagel from the plate and, flipping it upside down, sent it spinning around the room. "It's a UFO."
Legato watched it, half wary and half amused, until the little circle of cheese and pepperoni cubes fell off the bottom of the bread and landed in his hair. "Master! It hit me!"
The former blonde laughed insanely. "What's the matter, Legato? Why didn't you catch it? Are you losing your touch? That's alright, here's another! Try again!"
"No, Master, stop! Please don't throw it at me... ack, no! I'm wearing white!" However, soon Legato was forced to fight back. Throwing off his white coat to avoid stains, he used his own powers to throw the thrown bagels back at the plant. Knives retaliated, and in a matter of minutes the kitchen was covered in a thick layer of cheesy tomato goop. It took them a moment to stop laughing, catch their breath, and take stock of the mess they had made.
Knives paused, looking about him at the dripping kitchen. He was himself, as was Legato, covered from head to toe in pizza toppings. "Uh-oh. Look at what you did, Legato."
The sudden and severe fear of the Master's ire flew through the psychic. "But Master, it was you who in fact instigated the..."
"You joined in."
"But, Master, you began the..."
"You helped me do it."
Legato was close to panic. His kitchen was a wreck. Between cleaning it up himself, insisting that the master clean up his own mess, or forcing the other Gung-Ho Guns to clean it up for them... He suddenly calmed. Of course. Forced labor. The answer to everything. "I can force the Mine to clean it up tomorrow. He has incurred my annoyance. Shall we proceed to the living room?"
Knives agreed and they left the decimated kitchen behind to seek entertainment in the front room of the base. The plant, still hungry, quickly taught himself how to use the popcorn maker. "I didn't know we had one of these. Spiffy."
Legato, pulling off his ruined clothes, paused with his shirt half over his head. "Master, did you just use the word spiffy?"
"No."
"Oh. Alright, then..."
Knives, clutching a large bowl of popcorn, likewise shucked his dirty clothing and took a spot on the sofa in his boxers (which happened to be patterned in moths, the butterfly's nighttime relative). "Maybe something good is on spider-TV." Flipping channels, he took stock of the selections. "Seen it... seen it... stupid... seen it... seen it... seen it... don't want to see it... infomercial... rerun... No, there's nothing on."
"If I may, Master...?" Taking the remote at a nod from the plant, Legato turned to the channel that had never let him down... the Food Network. As he had hoped, Emeril was kicking it up a notch by dumping some sort of hard liquor on the sizzling carcass of a game fowl.
"Mmm, chicken," Knives commented.
Five minutes later, they turned off the program. Legato wiped the drool from his chin. "Somehow... I just don't think this is the right time for Emeril."
"We need to get our minds off food," Knives decided decisively. "Are there any board games or anything that we could play? What about Battleship?"
"Zazie ate all the ships and half the markers."
"How about checkers?"
"Zazie stopped up the toilet with the chips."
Knives was getting upset. "Chess? Tell me we can play chess."
"Zazie..."
Disgusted, Knives waved it off. "Remind me to fire that child. So, in this unfortunate event, what shall we do? Hmm... We could... steal Midvalley's Playboy DVD's."
"Master!" Legato gasped.
"What?"
"Surely you aren't serious!"
"Of course I am. They're in a box under his bed. Let's go."
"But Master, I thought you said that spider-women were beneath you."
Knives gave Legato an odd look. "They are. That is why I am watching them and they are not watching me. Now, onward!"
"But Master!" Legato whimpered. "Is it really a good idea to invade Midvalley's private space and take his personal belongings? We do have a bond, after all, from living together and sharing a common goal. Is it really right to do that to a fellow... uh, a fellow..."
"Freak of nature?" Knives supplied.
"Something like that."
"There is one very good reason why we can and should do this, Legato. It is that I am the boss, and I can do whatever the hell I want." Knives' eyes narrowed. "What's the matter, Legato? Are you going soft on me?"
The psychic blanched. "Of course not, Master!"
"I think you are! I think you're going soft! Come on, let's go, spider-human! Put 'em up!" Legato barely had time to think before Knives was on him, throwing them both backwards across the sofa and holding his neck in a full Nelson. He tried halfheartedly to struggle, but knew it was a lost cause as Knives began to rub his knuckles hard in Legato's blue hair in a very painful way. "Big bad psychic doesn't know how to fight like a man! Come on, Legato, Vash can fight better than this!"
"Master, please control yourself!"
At that moment, little Zazie walked into the room. He had been searching for the bottle of gummy vitamins that Midvalley had hidden from him earlier that evening. What he found, however, delighted him to the very core of his demonic little soul. It was the Master Knives and Legato "I'm-Too-Good-For-You" Bluesummers sprawled on the sofa in their boxer shorts. Knives had his arms wrapped around the psychic and their legs tangled in an intricate and painful way. The expression on Legato's face could be compared to that of a corpse that had been murdered in a nasty fashion.
Doing an about face, the little blonde Beast ran off into the base to spread the word.
"This isn't what it looks like!" Legato shrieked, kicking Knives off on reflex. The plant hit the ground hard on his rear, giving Legato a miffed look and rubbing the sore area. The psychic immediately froze. Oh shit. I physically hurt the Master! Oh SHIT!
Knives suddenly grinned, getting to his feet. "Yeah, now that's more like it! You're getting it, Legato, you're getting it. Now let's go get those DVD's!"
"Master..." Legato whimpered weakly. The force of his relief left him nearly faint. He was sure the Master would kill him outright, and painfully, for such a large and blatant transgression.
"Don't worry about it, Legato," Knives consoled, misreading the cause of the psychic's distress. "Midvalley's already asleep. This will be a piece of cake." Grabbing his minion by the arm, he pulled Legato toward the stairs. Hoping it was cheesecake, Legato whimpered softly in a continuous and disbelieving stream as he followed along quite unwillingly.
"This is just like old times," Knives reminisced with a slight smile. "Vash and I used to do things like this all the time. Yes, we'd stay up for hours on end trying to hack past the parental controls Rem put on the TV and computer. The computer was impossible, but our combined genius managed to get most of the static off the television. Those were the days..."
Lost in fond memories, Knives shoved open the sax player's door and stole softly into the blackness, insecure psychic in tow.
O.O.O.O.O
"Get out of here!"
Knives and Legato scrambled frantically out the door, trying to avoid Midvalley's enraged kicks.
"Stay the hell out of my stuff, you hear me?!"
Knives paused at the top of the stairs. "Wow. I never would have labeled Middy as the 'reads dirty magazines under the covers with a flashlight' type."
Legato was about to agree when a saxophone case came flying out of the musician's room and smoked the psychic in the head. Knives peered over the rail to watch his favorite minion and said instrument case go tumbling down the stairs.
The rumpled Hornfreak stormed out of his violated room. "If I ever catch anyone in there again I swear by Sylvia's shiny brass finish that I'll bury the jerk! Even if it's you, Legato!" He shook his fist over the rail at the dazed minion.
Legato recovered quickly, though. "Oh yeah?" he yelled, grabbing up the case. "Well you can't read music!" With that one powerful and nearly blasphemous insult the blue-haired psychic hurled the case back up at the dumbfounded musician and ran away as fast as he could, Knives right behind, to avoid the following supersonic blast. It was best not to openly combat the Hornfreak, not at night, inside the base, unrested.
Midvalley never would have found the two of them, hidden away as they were in an out of the way closet, had Knives not turned on the singing largemouth bass.
O.O.O.O.O
Legato was not pleased as limped back up the stairs toward his chamber, Knives following once more.
Midvalley had not been stupid enough to take aim at the plant and had concentrated on making Legato sorry for the DVD incident, despite the psychic's yells and curses that the scheme had not been his doing whatsoever. Finally he had been forced to fight back, telekinetically slamming the saxophone down over the irate musician's head. Knives had a strident rule about not killing other Gung-Ho Guns without his permission, and he might remember that when he woke up from whatever madness had currently possessed him.
For insane he still was, to the best of Legato's knowledge. As they entered the psychic's room for the second time that night the plant began to hum "Don't worry... dun, dun... be happy... dun, dun..." under his breath. Legato was scared. At least, he was scared until he flipped on the light and saw Zazie perched expectantly on the bed.
Legato felt an immediate and intense pang of annoyance. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded of the little boy. Zazie just grinned.
"I told everybody what you guys were doing."
"Is that so." With an irritated growl, he made the child hop around the room in a convincing monkey imitation. "In that case I do hope you enjoyed yourself, because I simply do not care what the others may think. Satisfied?"
"No." Zazie reached behind his poncho-ed back, playing with something. "After that I got bored, so I decided to do something I never done before. Knives was out of his room for the first time in forever so..."
Legato paled. "You entered the Master's chamber without his permission?"
"Yup. And I found a toy, too!" Whipping out a battered and much-loved plush butterfly from behind himself, Zazie lifted it up. "Cool, huh? It would make a great kill for my sand worm plushie, huh? Wouldn't it?"
"You would not dare."
Knives' icy tone caused the hair on the back of Legato's neck to stand upright. Uh-oh. That was the normal Knives talking, alright. No more Mister Nice Plant.
Zazie grinned. Holding the sand worm toy in one hand, he placed Knives' butterfly firmly between his teeth. The fires of homicide burning in his eyes, Knives' angel arms began to deploy.
Legato was torn. Not the angel arms! Not in his room! Oh, but Zazie would finally die! Oh, but he would also die as well. That settled that. "Master, don't you think we could settle this without utilizing the massive destructive forces that are your quite wonderful and impressive arms...?"
Knives paused.
With a maniacal grin, Zazie ripped the butterfly in half. Stuffing flew.
With a howl of unsurpassed rage, Knives deployed the arms.
Legato ducked and covered as the blast ripped the ceiling asunder. A hot wind blew. Furniture, clothes, manga and various other personal articles went flying. Zazie dove aside, managing to wedge underneath the psychic's bed. Or what was soon left of it.
After long, horrifying moments, it was over. Zazie poked his head out from under the charred and blackened remnants of the bed and, seeing the coast as clear as it was likely to get, ran for the hills.
Legato lay on the scorched ground, face buried in the singed carpet of what once had been his bedroom. His ears were ringing. Peering cautiously upwards, he noticed wetness striking his face. The ceiling was entirely nonexistent, and the rain was pouring in. Lightning flared. Thunder boomed.
Knives suddenly appeared in his field of vision. The frantic plant unceremoniously shoved the two halves of the unfortunate butterfly in the psychic's face. "Fix it! Fix it now! Now, now, now, now, NOW! "
Legato sighed, letting his head fall back once again. Absently, he was thankful for the cold rain washing the soot off his face.
Once upon a time in a small café he had given advice of sorts to an unfortunate woman. Now, lying in the wreckage of his own room, his lord and master weeping like a disconsolate child above him, his own words came back to haunt him.
Now he himself knew, without a doubt, the pain of living.
--owari
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(2nd) Author's Note: Once again, I apologize. It was a little more wacky than the first one, too, but I still find myself compelled to compel the Gung-Ho Guns and dear, dear Knives to loosen it up a bit. A big thanks to igbogal for reminding me of the cafe scene at the end. Thanks for reading!