Now that the movie has actually started, now might be an opportune time to mention a few things that the twins did with their much bigger budget. For starters, they were sick and tired of people plugging their ears whenever some particular piece of organ drama came up from the soundtrack. Our answer to this rudeness? Simple. We had little mp3 players implanted into everyone's brain. These microchips were powerful enough to make sure the audience heard even a pin drop at a distance of a mile from the screen. A perfect guarantee that the audience would hear everything and wouldn't miss a thing even if they tried to cover their ears. The audience was going to love this. The twins were certain of it. Of course, the audience didn't know about the mp3 players implanted in their brains. What they don't know can't harm them.
In any case, the soundtrack was better than the radio dramas and guaranteed to be heard. The twins also went all out on the theatre itself. Rather than the modern, sticky-floored, not-enough-room-for-my-legs theater of our current time period, the theatre was decked out in the frill of vaudeville. The seats were well spaced, comfortable and divided into sections that could be easily managed by the ushers. Children were sent to the peanut gallery, a section of the theatre where the children were entertained and served peanuts, a good cheap food that people in the early 1900s could afford. In fact the phrase "Quiet in the peanut gallery!" originated during this time.
Ahem. Mirror, you're going to historical again.
Oh. Sorry, sis.
As I was saying, the seats were comfortable and the place where a stage would normally be was instead a large movie screen with giant deep red curtains surrounding it. But enough about your comfort in the theatre, you want to know about the film.
In his private booth in the theatre, Ryo looked over his lines of narration, and then out to the audience that was awaiting his words. He got really nervous.
"Ah, the price of Cranston's, um, I mean the price of Sasaki's redemption was to take up the fight against criminals. He trained under the Tulku, er, Ancient, ah, Kaosu for several years, learning how to cloud men's minds so that he became invisible, save for the only thing he could not hide - his Shadow, the darker part of himself.
"When his training was complete, Cale Sasaki returned to the most vile and sinful cities the world has ever known, to fight the scourge that infested the city. The city known as 'The Big Apple'."
Happy that his narration was finally done, Ryo let out a long sigh, also grateful he didn't have to worry about a commercial.
The scene reopened to a blast of the organ, leaving the audience wondering why there was even an organ soundtrack since it wasn't in the original movie. Still, the audience received one hell of a headache from the micro mp3 players in their brains. But before them on the screen was a bridge in New York City. Which bridge was anyone's guess, but it was styled to the 1930s like it was supposed to, so nobody complained.
Along the damp bridge, gently rolling through the slight fog was an old 30s car, its headlights off. Slowly rolling to a stop, a singular figure stepped out of the car. Said figure was in a pinstripe suit, a dark trench coat, and placing a fedora on his head as he rounded the vehicle.
The camera zoomed in on this face, and instantly many fans in the audience started swooning and cooing, for it was Cye, looking impressively sharp in a suit and tie. More fans in the audience screamed as well when the camera turned its attention to the back seat of the car, in which resided Shuu. The Chinamen of question was also looking handsome in a suit and tie, albeit not quite as expensive looking, and he lacked the hat which made Cye fans drool so much.
Cye tried to look intimidating, but it didn't quite work with his sweet looking face. He did, however, manage to pull Shuu out with little trouble and easily hefted the larger man over to the edge of the bridge. To make such a feat even more impressive, Shuu had his feet stuck in a concrete block and Cye had no assistance whatsoever. He was alone.
"Cye," Shuu asked quietly, unaware his voice was being picked up by the mega-expensive microphone set up the twins had, "do you have your under gear on under those clothes?"
"Undaa giaa?" Cye asked, uncertain he heard Shuu properly..
"In the sub it's under gear. I think for the dub you guys call it sub-armor."
Cye smiled enigmatically. "What do you think? Besides, why did the twins put you in concrete? It's just a version of stone. You should be stronger now."
Shuu raised an eyebrow, but went back to his lines. "No! Please, no!" His acting had actually improved since the radio drama. Somewhat.
"Sorry, bloke," Cye replied, not even trying to suppress his accent. "You chose the wrong ally to look down. Right-o, over you go!" With power and grace, Cye lifted Shuu over the edge with only one arm and prepared to let go.
Suddenly, a chilling laugh filled the cold, damp night air.
The audience, be they Cale fans or not, cheered.
Not liking the apparent shift of power, Cye hefted Shuu back over the edge and deposited him into the pavement rather roughly.
The laughter continued.
"Who's there?" Cye demanded.
Laughter was his response. Evidently, Cale was enjoying watching Cye get ready to throw his best friend over the edge of a bridge.
"Where are you?" Cye cried out, getting freaked by the chilling laughter. Remembering that there was a handy tommy gun in the car, Cye pulled it out of the front and started to fire, though somewhat randomly. Still, Cye fans noticed that their beloved sea-fairing hunk was not aiming unbelievably high like his counterpart in the movie did. If anything, it looked like he'd had some experience with the tommy gun before shooting. Ahem. Before filming the scene. Poor choice of words.
Gun depleted of bullets, Cye laughed to himself. Unfortunately for him, his laughter was soon drowned out by the haunting, ghostly laugh of the unseen voice.
Shuu, meanwhile, having had to duck from gun-wielding Cye, was not feeling very friendly at the moment. So when an unseen hand cracked the concrete at his feet, Shuu was more than happy to deal with Cye himself, rather than letting Cale take all the glory. Shuu soundly beat Cye, though it did appear rather fake, and Cye stuck to his lines.
"I'll confess, I'll confess! Bloody hell, I'll confess!"
Okay, so maybe he went off his lines a little bit. It's all a question of what flows naturally out of someone's mouth. Still, Cye went to his still-intact car (the twins don't have enough money to replace replicas like that even with the larger budget. . .) and quickly drove to the nearest precinct to turn himself in.
Meanwhile, Shuu was huffing in indignation, highly irritated that his role required his best friend to try and kill him, and then that Shuu had to fight his friend. It was extremely frustrating. To make matters worse, Shuu had seen the original movie. Cale was the one who was supposed to do all the fighting not him.
Shuu was interrupted from his exasperation when a black and yellow cab rolled through the light fog, without its lights. The back door opened by itself. Shuu looked around suspiciously, but knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He tentatively got into the cab.
The back seat was spacious and incredibly empty. Shuu looked around. Wasn't he supposed to have company back here? Where was Cale?
"Drive."
Shuu shivered. That was definitely the voice he was expecting, but there was nobody back there. Where the twins altering scripts again?
Oh wait. That meant Sehkmet was driving.
Oh hell.
The cab's lights came up and the cabbie Sekky smiled gleefully as his foot hit the floor. Shuu flew into the back of the seat and was tossed around both sides of the cab until he was so jostled around and disoriented; he had no idea where in the city he was. Once he was convinced that Shuu was clueless as to their location, Sekky slowed down the cab, leaving his passenger looking very green around the gills.
There was a soft chuckle to Shuu's right and he looked up, shocked to see Cale there, dressed in a black overcoat and matching fedora pulled down low. A dark red scarf covered the lower half of the face, leaving visible only a winter blue eye encased in a scar.
"I have just saved your life, Shuu Rei Fuan. It now belongs to me," came the chilling voice that had earlier emanated the laugh that sent all kinds of chills down not only the Shuu's spine, but also the audience as well.
"What the hell?" was Shuu's response. So much for his lines. "I've been tossed all around this seat, and there was nobody back here! Where the hell did you come from?"
Shuu paused, the words of the Shadow finally sinking in.
"How the hell did you save my life? I did all the work!"
"And who do you think freed you from that concrete?" Sekky hissed from in front. "Show a little gratitude."
Shuu bristled and was about to say something rather disparaging, when the chilling voice interrupted, saying his lines from the little book hidden in his gloved hands. "You, Shuu Rei Fuan, are a professor of metallurgy at NYU. You will now become one of my agents, like thousands of others all over the world."
"What?" Shuu retorted, a weight of dread landing heavily on his shoulders.
"When you hear one of my agents say 'The moon is rising,' you will reply--"
"'But the snow is falling'," Sekky finished.
"You're the Shadow. How'd you know about. . ." Shuu whispered, sounding like he was doing a hell of a good job in acting. Either that or he really was scared witless. Cale can do that sometimes.
The Shadow turned slightly, fixing Shuu in the stare of both of his winter blue eyes. The large Shuu shrank in his seat, uncertain as to what was to happen.
"The Shadow knows." The Shadow laughed.
Sekky pulled up to the curb and Shuu fell out of the cab, backing away in leaps and bounds. The cabbie calmly walked over and helped Shuu to his feet, sliding a ring onto the Chinaman's finger.
"That's the Shadow!" Shuu whispered in awe. "I mean I've heard about it on the radio, but I didn't think he existed--"
"He doesn't," Sekky confirmed.
"Eh?" Shuu turned to the cabbie looking perplexed and so adorable, Shuu fans in he audience voiced massive amounts of approval.
Sekky merely winked in response and offered a smile that made Sehkmet fans in the audience start rivaling Shuu fans in amount of approval.
"Have a good evening," Sekky offered, climbing back into his cab.
Shuu simply nodded dumbly.
Sekky eased the cab away from the curb and once more let his foot drop to the floor.
"Where to, Mr. Sasaki?"
The camera swiveled to the back seat where there was no longer the Shadow. In the Shadow's place was Cale Sasaki, wealthy young man about town. His wide brimmed fedora had been traded for a curve rimmed hat that the twins didn't know the name of. The black trench coat was now a simple black wool overcoat, and where a deep red scarf once was, was instead a plain white formal scarf.
"The Cobalt Club."
The organ once more hurt the heads of the audience
"You're, some kind of mystery, a sweet kind of myste-ry. Gotta get you, close to me, so I can figure out what this mystery's abo-ut, yeah." Nasutei's voice was pretty as she sang, accompanying the music perfectly. Sadly, however, her song could not be heard over the din. Why?
The Cobalt Club was a bar.
The population of the bar was dressed very nicely, you would think they were in a night club. But it was, indeed, a bar; complete with stools, beer, saltines, dim light, and a thick cloud of smoke. Cale coughed as he entered, not expecting such a high prevalence of carcinogens. Were the twins trying to give him lung cancer?
Well no, if he had bothered to pay attention in wardrobe, there was a little button on the inside of his lapel that would generate a small bubble of pure oxygen around him. Everyone else in the bar who wasn't smoking were breathing just fine because of similar devices. Coughing again, Cale handed his coat, hat, and scarf to the hostess, revealing a sharp tuxedo. Many, many fans in the audience cheered, the voices overbearing even the mp3 players. Impressive.
Cale confidently walked through the narrow spaces between tables until he found an adequately lit booth housing another man in a tux: Commissioner Doji. His tux was the crisp white of high society, with a red cummerbund that matched his hair color exactly. The already cheering audience doubled their volume as even more fans joined in. The popping vein temporarily placed in a protective case and eating a rich steak and enjoying it, he motioned for Cale to join him.
"You were obviously taking your sweet time; I figured I'd order without you. The excuse this time?" Doji asked.
"There was an. . ." Cale glanced at his booklet, "accident on the bridge." He grinned blithely and took his seat.
"I recommend the steak and the venison," Doji said. He debated taking out his popping vein, but decided against it. "Will there ever be a time we you ARE on time?"
Cale grinned enigmatically, a facial expression he was getting good at. "Sorry uncle Doji, I got caught up."
On cue, a petite young thing in a stunning white dress entered the bar. Her mass of blue hair was pulled up into an intricate set of waves and curls and she walked elegantly to the table the hostess showed her to, conveniently in full view of the two biseinen in tuxes.
Both Cale and Doji were openly staring. No one had expected the twelve year old Lady Kayura to look so. . . ladylike. It took several moments for either young man to compose themselves. Doji was first, because officer Ryo (another man in uniform! Drool.) quietly approached the Commissioner and handed him a slip of paper.
"Cops and Robbers?" Cale asked, pulling his eyes away from Kayura and glancing at his script.
"Another report of that damn Shadow. Duke Cye confessed to the murder of an officer, and is asking for some kind of protection from that damn specter." Doji pulled out his popping vein and placed it delicately on his forehead. "I'm sick of that freak meddling in police affairs. By this time tomorrow, I'll have assembled a task force for the vigilante."
Cale rose his eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. The smoke was filling his lungs, but he choked it down and grinned. His face suddenly fell in shadow, the only thing visible were his winter blue eyes. A violin played started a high pitched, eerie chord and a wolfish grin spread across Cale's face.
"You're not going to appoint a task force," he said softly, if somewhat hoarsely.
Doji blinked. "Hell with it. I'm not going to appoint a task force."
"You're not going to pay any attention to these reports of the Shadow," Cale said slowly.
"Ignore them entirely."
"There is no Shadow."
"No, of course there isn't. If there were, I'd be Eleanor Roosevelt."
Hypnotism done, Cale leaned forward and promptly entered a hacking fit. All that cigarette, cigar, and pipe smoke was taking their toll. He wiped his watering eyes, however, and allowed himself to grin smugly as Doji just stared at him blankly.
"What's so funny?" he asked, no comprehension of what had happened at all. Although, for some strange reason, he kept having visions of himself in an Eleanor Roosevelt dress. Had he said something stupid?
"Nothing," Cale waved off, coughing the last of the smoke out of his lungs and trying not to breathe deeply.
". . ." Doji didn't believe him. "Where were we?"
"According to the script, you were about to tell me about her," Cale said, pointing vaguely to Kayura.
"Lady Kayura Hashiba," he said disdainfully. He pulled at the sleeves of his cuffs as he continued. "Now there's a strange one. Her father works for the war department, a complete nerd--" ("Hey!") "--and is always going on about sub atomic something or others. Now Kayura, she hears voices; that's what they say. Violent girl, she is. Whack job if you ask me; they should lock her up in an insane asylum and give her a lobotomy. You know; that operation where they stick a spoon up your nose and just sort of mush around up there? Now that might do her some real good." Off screen, Kayura wished desperately her shakujo were with her so that she could whack HIM one.
Cale, suffocating under the smoke and still not remembering the oxygen button, was starting and turning blue. Doji saw it and commented, "What the hell do you see in her?"
A waiter with a Red Cross band on his arm came over and touched the button under Cale's lapel. The oxygen rushed to his lungs and he gasped hoarsely. "I though I was going to die!"
Kayura riffled through the menu, looking for something to strike her interest. She had a particular taste right now, but she couldn't find the item listed. This wasn't really the bar for it, anyway.
"Excuse me ma'am," said the waiter with the Red Cross band.
"Yes, I'd like--"
"The Champagne de la Montaigne de L'Eau, 1928."
Kayura blinked. That had been what she had wanted to order.
"From the gentleman."
Kayura blinked again, furious that she was acting so clueless. "Gentleman?"
"Cale Sasaki." The lady turned to the new voice to see the full shot of Cale in a tux. Fans were still drooling and Kayura had to admit even she was impressed. Some people cleaned up really well. Then she realized that he had made an assumption about what she had wanted and order for her. The nerve! Women were not so simple minded! He had been right, of course, but that wasn't the point! How dare a man presume to know what she wanted?
"May I have a seat or not?" Cale asked smoothly. His acting had greatly improved, even if his memory for his lines did not.
Kayura grimaced ever so slightly, but motioned him to join her. It wasn't like she wanted to be here anyway, she thought, she was much more in the mood for something traditional.
"You know," Cale said as he poured the champagne. "I have this sudden, inexplicable craving for a traditional Japanese meal."
Kayura stared. He did it again! How dare he!
Before she knew it she was kneeling at a proper Japanese restaurant, and Cale was ordering for her. In Japanese no less!
"Hai, gyudon to tatsuta. Hai, sake. Domo arigatoo." The waiter bowed and departed to place the orders.
Cale flashed a quick grin to the camera, knowing full well that the audience was swooning over his Japanese, and then looked expectantly at Lady Kayura. He did like that dress; he wondered how Nasutei or maybe Luna or Naria would look in it.
"I see your mind is still in the gutter," Kayura said loftily, "so much for all your claims of innocence when you saw poor Mia in that red leather."
Cale took his turn to blink. How did she know what he was thinking?
"Oh, I'm not really sure," Kayura said, unable to hide the smugness from her voice. "It hasn't happened in a really long time. When I was a child I used to know when my father was going to come home and I'd always open the door right before he would. I'd also know whenever we were going out; just pick the thoughts right out of his head." She paused. "Is something wrong?"
Cale had a look not unlike sheer terror on his face, his posture subconsciously backing away, as if even that small amount of distance would save him. He still wasn't up to the part where he knew what was going on, you see, and the idea of Kayura poking around in his head was something he did NOT want to consider.
Kayura smirked oh so slightly as she waited for their orders.
Sekky screeched to a halt, sliding the cab right into a parking space along the curb with inches to spare. Even from outside the car, the audience could see him grinning manically.
Cale and Kayura, in overcoat and furs, crawled gratefully out of the car. They stood on the curb awkwardly, neither one really wanting to say their lines. Finally, they shook hands and Kayura left as Cale stared at the cab wearily before climbing back in.
"It ain't like you to jump a girl, Mr. Sasaki," Sekky said lightly.
"No, it ain't, I mean isn't. I have no intention there of, believe me. But I have to follow the damn script."
Cale's mansion home was dark except for one lit fireplace. Cale, his tux only halfway off (fan service!), was sprawled on an expensive and luxurious couch, a wine glass filled with sake in his hand. He was sleeping.
Well, he was supposed to have a dream sequence, but even the twins mess up once in a while. The fireball from the fireplace never ignited, so the audience never got to see a one eyed face laughing snidely. On the contrary, the fireplace died away, and the fan people turned the wind on too high. The glass of sake did catch fire, however, and exploded with much too much power. Cale yelped and leapt from the comfort of the couch and clutched his burned hand.
"What the hell are you two doing?" he demanded. "Are you trying to kill me?" He stormed to the camera, his eyes wide in anger.
But, much to the audiences confusion (if they weren't confused already) and consternation, the scene cut.
The twins were shocked too. That wasn't the cut they had approved for print. Who was in charge of editing? Hmm, a mystery to figure out.
The scene reopened to Mukara and Naria walking down a large cavernous room holding huge skeletons of dinosaurs and ancient beasts long extinct.
"I would have thought that it was a sarcophagus from Egypt, and that the shipping label was wrong."
Mukara turned his tiger-blue eyes to Naria, a snowy eyebrow raised.
"Exactly," the woman replied. "However, Tibetan sarcophaguses are made of stone, not solid silver."
Naria and Mukara entered into the back room of the museum. There were large wooden crates and displays meant to go into the museum all around, and only one guard, looking quite handsome and dashing in uniform. Turning to see Mukara, the guard automatically put on his red and white under gear and took a defensive posture. Mukara, in turn, pulled out his massive black crystal boomerang and dropped into a fighting stance.
"Mirror!" Ryo cried out. "Just because you saw Kikoutei Densetsu this weekend doesn't mean you have to put me in front of Mukara! You know how dangerous that is!"
Mukara offered a soft smile and adjusted his stance. Ryo shifted as well, uncertain what was to come.
Placing her hands on her hips, Naria stepped between them. "This is not a fighting sequence. Neither of you have to raise your fists."
Mukara and Ryo stared at each other for a long time. Meanwhile, neglected in the background, was the rather ugly looking coffin that Naria and Mukara were discussing prior to the raised testosterone level in the room. Said sarcophagus was rattling very loudly, trying to draw attention back to itself, since it was supposed to be the focal point of the scene. It was, of course, failing miserably, since the audience was more focused on the drama of Ryo and Mukara and who would back down first.
Speaking of which. Still staring each other down, Naria shook her head and decided to take matters into her own hands. She walked over to the handsome Mukara and merely hugged an arm. Mukara blinked silently, and looked down to the woman. His eyes softened and he quietly said, "Naria," the only word in his vocabulary. As he lowered his boomerang, Ryo dropped back into his guard's uniform, still looking incredibly handsome. Face it. Men look good in uniform.
Glancing down at her clipboard, which conveniently had her lines, Naria continued. "When you read the inscription on the sarcophagus, then we see that it's the silver coffin of Genghis Khan." She looked back up to Mukara, still hugging his arm tightly. "I believe we should go make a phone call. The guard can handle this. Who would steal from the Museum of Natural History? Least of all from the back room."
Mukara smiled softly and placed a hand on Naria's cheek and nodded. Arm in arm, they left to room, leaving Ryo all by his lonesome with a creepy crypt and the pissed occupant within. Of course, the sarcophagus was still making a very loud fuss, but Ryo was steadfastly ignoring it. Instead, he knew he was supposed to hum or sing some sort of song appropriate for the 1930s, however, he didn't know of any songs from that time period. So what did he start to hum? Hoono no Soldier, his image song from the Kimi o Nemurasenai CD.
Now pissed beyond measure, the occupant of the creepy crypt started to really rattle the coffin in question. Ryo continued to sing, finishing Hoono no Soldier, and moving on to Rainy Lazy Morning, and handled some of the paperwork that seemed to be on a small desk that he guessed he was supposed to take care of. Meanwhile, the cantankerous casket threw a hissy fit, finally flinging its doors open and spewing forth smoke. From inside the terrifying tomb stepped somebody dressed in a rather spider-like armor, with a mask covering his face save for his solitary eye. Of its own volition, the mask receded into the helmet, revealing a one-eyed white-haired man, for which many members of the audience started to coo.
Ryo was barely impressed with any of this. Turning to one of the exhibits, Ryo pulled a katana from a samurai display and once more took a fighting stance. "Excuse me," he said politely, capturing the attention of the intruder and the audience. A small vein pulsed by the ornate helmet, showing the characters displeasure at loosing center stage. "This is private property. You are not allowed to come in here. You'll leave the premises now, or you'll be forcibly removed."
Wow. Ryo remembered all of his lines and delivered them with grace and power. Maybe we should put him in front of the camera more often.
Ryo turned to the camera and replied, "I prefer being the narrator, thank you." He offered a winning smile. "You understand, don't you, Mirror?"
Shojo bubbles filled the audience, the screen and the scene where Ryo and Rajura were trying to act. Ryo simply kept smiling and Mirror kept bubbling. The audience started to drown in bubbles and the den where Mirror was typing was overrun with them, forcing Image to come in, pull Mirror from the keyboard and resume the scene.
Several burst bubbles and massive resuscitation later, Mirror was once more placed in front of the keyboard, the audience could see the screen, and Ryo and Rajura were doing their scene.
Rajura smiled coldly towards Ryo. "You're not that muscle bound mountain, but you'll suffice," he replied, getting into his role of a megalomaniac. Rajura pretended he was holding a sword and moved his hands like he was moving the sword.
Ryo, following the script, flipped the sword in his hand, pointing the blade his stomach.
"You will now commit seppuku," Rajura whispered in a hypnotic tone.
Ryo fans screamed indignation.
Ryo turned, winked at the camera, pointed the sword out of harms way, and pretended to disembowel himself. Rather poorly we might add. Too bad, he was doing such a good job. He's much better as a narrator. Truly.
Ryo let loose a small sigh of relief.
Rajura laughed loudly, his armor dissolving into cherry blossoms, leaving him dressed in fine Chinese silks, which many in the audience ardently appreciated.
Having heard something going on, Mukara and Naria, who were once more in the cavernous dinosaur room, looked to each other and rushed to the back room. There, they discovered Ryo's crumpled form on the floor and a pool of ketchup around him.
"Oh!" Naria cried out. "How could this have happened? We were only gone for a moment!"
Mukara glared at Ryo's body, then whirled around, boomerang in hand and glared at a Chinese display of Mongol warriors. Fortunately for Rajura, whatever Mukara sensed was long gone. The African's face hardened to a feral expression. With a singular swing, the Mongol display was destroyed.
"Mukara!"
The organ blasted the audience with their implanted mp3 players as the scene cut.
The scene faded open to what could only be described as a chemistry lab. There were test tubes everywhere, along with beakers, Bunsen burners, spirally tubes, and labeled jars. In the center of all this was a metallic sphere with tiny little squarish bumps on it. It was held up by what looked like fancy electrodes, and hunched over it was Professor Hashiba. Thin framed glasses were dangling off his nose as he poked and prodded at the commodity and took notes on a stained notepad.
"I can't believe those twins. Image is always declaring that I'm her favorite. You'd think that would count for something when she and Mirror decide to cast these stupid things. But no, I'm almost always some kind of weak, cowardly villain. I think she likes to watch me suffer." Seiji, of course, was also in the lab, and pacing away as he vented his frustration. "Ryo can smile his way out of anything. Even a sideways glance and those stupid bubbles suffocate everyone. Not so with Image. I can smile and wink all I want, nothing. I glare and seethe, and then the sugar falls. Of course, then nothing comes of it."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ryo gets all the luck. You've been complaining about it for over an hour." Rowan touched one of the bumps on the sphere, somehow causing an electric shock. He yelped and jerked his hands away. "What the hell is this, anyway?"
Seiji looked over. "You don't know?"
"Does it look like anything to you?"
"No, of course not."
Rowan sighed heavily. He flipped through his clipboard until he found his script for the scene. ". . . Oh."
"Anyway." Seiji pinched his nose and took a deep breath. "If you would listen to me," he said, falling into character, "the military applications are amazing. If you would listen to me then the world would be our oyster, our sushi, and our rice."
"I don't like the army," the Professor muttered, resuming work on the sphere.
"Then why are they financing us?" Seiji asked lightly.
"Because you talked me into it," Rowan replied.
"I see you're not in a talking mood." Seiji shrugged his shoulders. "I'm going back to my lab. My beryllium sphere will obviously provide better conversation."
"It looks better than you, too," Professor Hashiba threw over his shoulder. Seiji glared menacingly, by now oblivious to the sugar falling lightly in the theatre, and stormed out.
Out side, he passed Luna and the ghost of her dead brother. The pair were standing guard at the door to Rowan's lab. He nodded to them and walked stiffly down the hall. As he did, the elevator at the end of the hall opened to reveal the gowned lady Kayura. Even Seiji, who had been forced to see his fair share of women in fanfiction, was appreciative of the dress.
The two met halfway down the hall and stopped.
"I see you actually do have a bust," Seiji said, "even if it is very small."
The pointy end of the shakujo found itself deeply imbedded in Seiji's face. It was a miracle it didn't protrude from the other side. Kayura huffed and puffed and stormed down the hall towards Luna and her dead brother. Seiji, finally extricating the staff, glowered and continued down to his lab. Kayura ignored him as she entered Professor Hashiba's lab.
"I see that Date said something offensive," Rowan said without looking up. He continued tinkering.
"I don't know what Image sees in that freak," Kayura fumed. "He's such a pretty boy. And what on earth makes a guy who barely is old enough to be my brother be my father in this stupid movie."
"Me?" Rowan asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Oh, I don't know. Depending how you look at it, I could be your great, great, great grandson."
Kayura leveled her patented glare at him, and he paled. "It's too bad I left the staff in Seiji's face. I'd use it on you."
"His face?" Rowan grimaced at the very thought. "I'd hate to think what you'd do to a guy you never met before."
"Oh, him," Kayura said. She made a face. "He had his mind in the gutter too. It can't be helped, I suppose. I'm just so beautiful that guys can't help but want to bet me."
"You have a high opinion of yourself." Professor Hashiba wrote something down quickly before continuing. "So what'd what's-his-name try to do? Get in your dress?"
"Oh, you know men," Kayura sniffed. She took a seat in a cushioned chair that had no business being in a science lab. Rowan pushed his glasses onto his head and looked on enviously, shifting on his uncomfortable stool.
"So," Rowan said. "Did he get very far?"
Kayura blinked, shocked. "What kind of question is that?" she demanded. "He was a complete jerk, totally presumptuous and entirely took self assured and cocky."
"Hm. A good match."
Kayura threw something at him before the camera cut.
Suzunagi pulled her cab over to the curb for her passenger. "Are you sure this is where you want to get out?" she asked. "There's nothing here."
The elaborately clothed Rajura only smiled, his one eye shining. As he looked through the script, he began to realize that he, grudgingly, liked this character. Shi Won Khan had brains, foresight, and a lot of power behind him. He wasn't the weak villain of the week that Rajura usually played. He had vocabulary, some wit, and a certain sense of style. And he certainly wasn't turning into a gorilla.
Rajura stepped out of the cab and looked around. Yes, indeed he was where he was supposed to be. He glanced down at the cab, the driver so beneath his notice. That is, until he saw that the little redheaded girl was writing down the address of his stop.
"What are you doing?" he asked in a low voice. Many fans in the audience sighed dreamily.
"Marking the 'drop off' point." Suzunagi was sitting on a dictionary in order to be level with the steering wheel. Heaven knows how she was able to reach the gas and break petals.
"You are making a note of my destination?" Rajura asked, grinning at his brilliant delivery. He was starting to over annunciate again.
"Taxi commissioner's rules," Suzunagi explained.
Rajura's one eye widened slightly, his face falling in shadow. "You need fuel," he dramatized, his voice dropping in pitch.
Suzunagi looked at the fuel gauge. It was full. "Yeah, I do." She looked up, seeing a convenient gasoline truck a block away pulling into a service station. "Nice timing," she said, smiling brightly. She turned to Rajura, "Thanks."
She miraculously floored the gas and made a beeline to the tanker. Only too late did the mind control wear off and she realized what was about to happen. The old rage asserted itself, and she shouted, "I'll send you Troopers to the grave! I'll kill you for killing me, even if there isn't a Noh script to follow!"
Oh, dear. I see a repeat of Message in our immediate future for doing that. Although, that is an interesting idea, doing Message for the Masho. Hmmm. . .
"Image!" Rajura shouted. "Stick to the fic at hand!"
Sorry! Sorry!
Rajura pursed his lips in annoyance, eliciting many dreamy gazes from the audience, before putting on a perfect smile and walking calmly, with purpose, to an empty lot.
Why an empty lot? That's for us to know and you to find out.
There the scenes done. Happy now, Rajura?
"Quite."
Commissioner Doji had his pulsing vein on and it was pulsing with a fury. At Doji's feet was Ryo's "corpse", a blanket over his head in respect for the dead. Photographers were everywhere, some for newspapers, some for police files. The reason Doji's vein was beating so hard? The incompetence of his own police force. He could already tell that this was going to be a botched investigation. The fact that reporters were already on the scene merely added to the dread he was feeling. To make matters worse, Doji was stuck with all the extras, which were, as always in one of the twin's productions, the tin can soldiers. No intelligent conversation at all. Not that much of the cast could provide interesting insights on things like the meaning of life, anything was better than nothing.
Shuten blinked. He thought he had spied a police uniform that didn't belong to an armored tin can. In fact, the uniform his saw belonged to the smaller figure of a woman. Oh that would be so nice if it was true.
Seeing a chance to burst away from the soldiers around him, Shuten trailed after the woman he thought he had seen. Calling upon his four hundred years of experience, he shadowed the shadow and was pleasantly surprised to see that the nice figure that he had seen was Nasutei, looking very nice in uniform. In the back of Shuten's mind, he noted that a female cop in the 1930s was probably extremely out of place, but he didn't really care. The twins tended to be rather selective in how accurate they were or weren't.
Quickly, he strode up to the lovely young woman and offered his arm. "Ah, Officer Yagyu. So nice to see you. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Nasutei gave him a bright smile that warmed the cold New York day. We did mention this fic was taking place during late fall/early winter, didn't we? In any case, Shuten returned the smile.
"Yes, Commissioner. I was just about to make a delivery for a friend of mine. Perhaps you could join me?" Nasutei took the offered arm and snuggled up to his side, sending a bright blush up said commissioner's cheeks. Together they walked through the crowded streets until they reached an old office building that was starting to fall into disrepair.
"You have to make a delivery here?" Shuten asked incredulously. "It seems rather odd."
Nasutei smiled softly. "My grandfather wanted me to give this to a friend of his. An old college friend from my understanding of it. He didn't make that much of a success as my grandfather."
Shuten raised an eyebrow, but accepted the answer.
Pulling out a pristine white envelope, Nasutei slid it into the mail slot of the door, the camera focusing on a ring that looked suspiciously like the ring that Shuu had received from the Shadow earlier on in the movie. "So, Commissioner, perhaps we should break for breakfast."
"Sounds lovely," Shuten replied, leading her back down the hall.
The paper, meanwhile, began a long journey through the pipe it had been placed in. Picture every roller coaster and water slide ever made in existence combined into one large extravaganza, including pieces that even went into orbit before returning to the big apple and happily sliding to a halt in front of a communications guy that looked suspiciously like Cye. The audience ignored the fact that Cye wasn't supposed to have any more scenes and instead appreciated his cameo.
Cye opened the note, and read it. How was a mystery to the audience, since there was nothing on the paper. However, Cye seemed to deem it important, and reached over, clicking an unidentified device. A small black-red jewel like that of the rings Shuu and Nasutei were wearing glowed briefly.
Cale adjusted his tie in the mirror, or rather, with Mirror's help.
"Damned western clothes. I can never get these damn things right."
"Could be worse," Mirror offered, finally tightening his tie. "It could be a tux. Then we'd be in a jam since I can't do bowties. Give me the bowtie algorithm instead. That I can work with."
Cale smartly decided not to ask what that obscure geometry reference was. The twins and their knowledge of mathematics and computers tended to be as obscure sometimes as the other little factoids they had collected over their lives.
He glanced back at Mirror--no the mirror and noticed that a ring on his finger was glowing, the black-red jewel softly pulsing.
"Hey," he asked. "Is this supposed to mean something?" Turning, Cale wasn't all that surprised to see that the twin was gone. It looked like it was going to be that kind of day.
Sekky, meanwhile, was taking a corner with two wheels and grinning madly. In the back seat, Image and Seiji were clinging to each other, praying that they wouldn't die. Image wondered briefly why Mirror decided to put her and Seiji in this scene, but that thought was pushed from her mind as Sekky barreled through a red light, barely missing at least three cars.
Skreeeeeeeeeee.
Another turn on two wheels.
Sekky let the car fall back down to all four and crashed through a back alley as a short-cut to the next scene that Seiji was supposed to be in. He happened to glance down when he noticed that the ring on his hand was glowing and pulsing slightly. Seeing as how Sekky was one of the few members of the cast to have actually studied the script, he knew what this meant.
The tires squealed as he braked in the middle of the street. Turning to his two passengers, he said only one word. "Out."
Image and Seiji looked to each other, then to Sekky.
Both bowed. "Domo arigatoo gozaimasu."
Both scrambled out of the car.
Mirror had completely disappeared, so Cale was left meandering about his humble mansion in search of a clue as to what the glowing ring meant. Finding none, he glanced outside to see Sekky pulling into his property. Oh, that's what it meant. Sighing, Cale grabbed his little leather booklet that contained his lines. Maybe if he wasn't tossed around too much, he could find out a little bit about the first half of the movie.
Yeah right.
Clinging to the small hope, he grabbed his hat and overcoat and went to meet Sekky.
"Where to, Mr. Sasaki?" Sekky asked, looking at his boss in the rearview mirror.
Cale glanced at his booklet. "To the Sanctum."
"Okey dokey." Sekky floored the gas and shot out onto the street like a bat out of hell. Completely ignoring the newly invented streetlights, he twisted and turned as he damn well pleased; elated with all the driving he was getting in this movie. Cale tried very hard to ignore it all, to find that happy place where he knew all his lines and what the hell was going on. It wasn't working.
After a good fifteen minutes of this hell, Sekky screeched to a halt. "We's here!" he said brightly.
Cale crawled out of the cab, keeping his stomach down by sheer willpower. On shaky legs, he looked around, trying to figure out where the hell he was. Autumn leaves had long since blown into piles on the street, partly decomposed and rattling in a slight breeze. Sekky had thrown him to some kind of alley. Extras walked this way and that, paying the narrow strip between two brick buildings no mind. Peering down, Cale saw an old fashioned fire escape, some garbage cans, and more piles of leaves. Looking around the street, Cale noticed all the buildings were packed together, some of them only inches apart. As near as he could tell, this was the only alley on the entire block.
A bright yellow neon light suddenly popped in front of Cale's line of sight, the large arrow pointing directly to the alley. Not the most subtle hint in the world, but Cale knew the consequences of not taking the hint.
Trying to look for the world like he had every business to do so, Cale walked down a leaf strewn alley. He got as far as the fire escape before the yellow arrow asserted itself again, this time pointing to an odd protrusion on a fire escape. Examining it, Cale couldn't figure out how the protrusion was important. He looked expectantly to the neon arrow.
The arrow changed shape to that of an oscillating lever before disappearing. Blinking, Cale looked suspiciously at the fire escape, and fiddled with the protrusion. It clicked to the left and slightly up, causing a series of mechanical sounds and causing Cale to jump back in surprise. The back of the alley, originally a brick wall with an arched window, lifted and fell away, the sewer grate lowering into a set of steps and a stairwell that lead deep into the brick edifice.
"Cool."
Cale stepped down into the stairwell to find the yellow arrow pointing to a more obvious looking lever. Pulling it, the disguised entrance to the Sanctum closed behind him, and as he navigated his way down the steel spiral staircase, massive rusted iron walls lift themselves to reveal the entirety of the Sanctum.
The Sanctum was actually quite plush. Rich oriental rugs and plush leather seating, as well as a well stocked liquor cabinet, gun rack, and what looked like a 1930s computer terminal, were arranged in perfect fun shui placement. The terminal was flashing, so Cale made that his first stop. There were a lot of fancy buttons and tubing, looking as fake as anything someone in the thirties could come up with when designing the yet-to-be invented computer. The neon arrow was again pointing to things, and with its help Cale was able to pull and push the right combination of levers and buttons. A television screen, for lack of a better word, popped open to reveal Cye, reading shojo manga.
"Report," Cale said, looking at his booklet.
"Agent reports apparent suicide of museum guard," Cye said. Then he reread the words. "Ryo? Dead? . . . Again?"
"So?" Cale asked blithely.
Cye looked appalled, but stuck to his lines. "Agent advises inquiry," he bit out, looking furious.
Cale only grinned. "Understood."
"Wait, what are you goi--" Cye was cut off as Cale turned him off and swiveled in his plush leather chair. He was just about to inspect what was in the liquor cabinet when the air changed. Cale straightened and stood up, determining where the change was coming from. The stairwell. Cale turned around and saw a shadowed figure, cloaked in Chinese silks and furs.
"And lo, the villain makes his grand appearance to the lowly hero," Rajura intoned. He walked down the staircase, smiling smugly.
"Who are you?" Cale asked slowly.
"It's funny. I thought you were taller," Rajura said. In the light, one could see that his furs and silks, even his eye patch, were of the finest material. His white hair was pulled back into an immaculate braid.
"Look who's talking," Cale retorted. "Who are you."
"Rajura Won Khan. The last descendant of Genghis Khan. You are of course, deeply honored."
Wait. That line sounded familiar. Was the movie finally approaching the part Cale actually knew? Cale strove to remember, meanwhile being cordial. "Have a seat. Have a drink."
"I will," Rajura said grandly. He took the seat Cale had just been sitting in, looking for the world as if he owned it. It's amazing how much better a man can act when he actually likes the character. He looked expectantly at Cale. "Surely, I am not expected to serve myself, am I? I'll have the best sake you have."
Cale resisted the urge to say something and moved over to the liquor cabinet. The twins, while not drinkers of alcohol, obviously used that bigger budget to get the best of everything. Cale let out a low whistle before picking out the sake. Ah! They even had the little porcelain cups! How thoughtful. Cale began to pour while also looking at his booklet. He was under the impression this was an important scene. Skimming his lines, he found that it was. For once moderately prepared, he picked up the cups and handed one to the lazily impatient Rajura.
"Here. Now," Cale said, leaning against a desk. "You didn't happen to stop by the museum last night, by any chance, did you?"
Rajura grinned, really into the role, and took a small, polite sip. "This is fine quality. So was the museum. A marvelous collection of Tibetan tapestries. The guards, however, were not very bright."
"I see." Cale inwardly grimaced. Rajura was doing much too good a job of acting. He would have to do something about it.
"You know, I know who you are," Rajura said expansively. "I don't mean this poorly dressed man about town, or even that ridiculous excuse of a pseudonym you use. I know who you REALLY are. Anubisu."
Cale stiffened. "I'm sorry?"
"As dull as you seem to be, I must confess, I am something of an admirer of your work. The attack on the village of Sekigahara? I studied it. Ah," Rajura said as Cale's eyes widened. "I see you remember. What a brilliant raid. Subtle and powerful, full of grace and intelligence. You would never know it looking at you now."
Cale gritted his teeth but said nothing. Rajura was getting under his skin, but he'd die before he showed it. He tried to switch gears. "How did you get in here?" he asked, hopefully lightly.
"Still dull," Rajura lamented. Wow, he was getting good at this. "Surely you realize that you are not the only one with the ability to cloud men's minds?"
Cale resisted the urge to comment on the belittling very strongly. "You were a student of Kaosu." It was a statement, not a question.
"A fine man," was the expansive reply. "But he could not turn me quite as easily as you."
Of their own volition, Cale's eyes widened as the words sunk in. He back away, ever so slightly, to the gun rack. "Why are you here?"
"I am here to finish what my great ancestor started. He conquered half the world in his lifetime. I shall finish the job. You," Rajura said, finishing his glass and standing up, "I want as my second command. Join me," he said in a husky voice. He stepped boldly closer to Cale. "Join me and the world will be our playground. We will pit armies against each other like chess, wash our hands in blood, laugh at the women who throw themselves naked at our feet. It would be glorious, Anubisu."
Nerves on fire, anger boiling just underneath the surface, Cale replied, "That's not my name anymore."
Rajura's originally placid, superior face slid to one of complete contempt. "But it is. Nevertheless it is still who you are!"
Cale reached for a gun, his had wrapping around something as he swung it forward, glancing down only to cock the gun. That one glance was all Rajura needed; when Cale looked up the one eyed man was gone. Where he had stood was now a gold colored coin.
"For the sake. I will come back, Anubisu; after you've had time to think."
And there was no more.
Cale stood alone in the silence, his eyes wide and his face ever so slightly scared.
Sadly, before the audience could fully revel in this superb bit of acting, the organ rang itself in their brains.
Rajura sat in Zen meditation in the center of an ornately decorated floor beneath rows of tall elegant windows of stained glass, partially hidden behind rich drapery. Somewhere off stage, incense was burning, small wafts of smoke gently strolling across the room. Rajura slowly exited his meditation, starting to chant something incomprehensible.
He stood, swinging his exquisite robes with a flare, and gracefully marching up to a small throne in the large room, decorated in an approximation of what Mongol art would be. After all, it wasn't like the twins knew what the hell they were describing. Whatever the audience can imagine is probably better than what we can come up with.
Seating himself with the flare of a spoiled actor, Rajura smiled before his audience - tin can soldiers that had been dressed not in the armor of a Mongol warrior, but in the armor of a samurai.
"My warriors," Rajura intoned, flashing an award-winning smile to the screen, "our day is finally at hand! This modern world of corruption shall once again fall under the mighty and powerful hands of the Khan. No longer will people stumble blindly through the world, not understanding the true path. No more! Instead, the mortals of this world will comprehend the one and only path; bushido! They will serve their Shogun, and that Shogun shall be me!"
The tin cans, who had been silently listening up until now, turned on the buzz saw and cheered their ear-piercing cry, making many in the audience fall unconscious. Several pulled out their swords, spears, and kusari-gama, exalting in their sound and displaying their enthusiasm.
Unfortunately, these tin cans seemed to be only just recently from the recycling center, and thus untrained. So as swords and other pointy objects started to swing around the room, arms, legs, and the occasional head started to fly. Soon the sophisticated room where Rajura had been meditating was reduced to the greasy black smoke of dead tin can soldiers, having dismembered and decapitated themselves.
Rajura stared. "Who went to the recycling center this morning," he fumed. "We're going to have to redo this entire scene thanks to these green goons! Is this any way to treat a good actor such as myself?" Rajura's fit continued for several long minutes as several extra tin cans came on set to clean up the mess. Several of said tin cans then slid on the water and soap that was starting to cover the floor destroying themselves even further. The words "Cut! Stop filming!" were heard several times, but nobody seemed to be listening.
This scene really wasn't supposed to make the final cut. Mirror turned to Image. "It's you turn to type. I'll go see if I can dig up who the editor is."
Image nodded and took the laptop to start typing.
Shuu and Nasutei were having their breakfast, listening to the latest episode of the Shadow on the radio.
"Wait, this IS the Shadow, why are listening to is?" Nasutei demanded. Then she heard the latest monologue from Orson Welles. Her eyes became very floaty. "never mind. . ."
Shuu rolled his eyes, gulping his coffee. Thankfully, Nasutei had yet to notice his somewhat austere new ring. He glared at it menacingly. It had glowed a while ago; damn near freaked him out. Since then nothing.
Before he could perform any more contemplation, there was a heavy knock on the door. Shuu was the first to get up, Nasutei still dreamily imagining what was being described in the radio drama she was listening to and completely oblivious to the real drama going on around her.
Opening the door, Shuu found a tall, scarred man in front of him. He was stinging. That was obvious. He was also trying damn hard not to show it. That was also obvious.
"The moon is rising," he said softly. Many members of the audience cooed.
"But the snow is falling," Shuu answered, almost automatically. "You know the Shadow, don't you."
"Who?"
"Oh, right. Gotcha." Shuu winked. "What do you need?"
"I need a metal analysis. . ." dramatic pause, "of this." Lifting his gloved hand, the scarred man showed the gold coin left in the Sanctum.
"Honey, a colleague just dropped by, I'm heading out!" Shuu called into the house.
"Okay!" Nasutei was still dreaming.
It was a short drive to Shuu's lab at NYU. It was also a quick cut, too. Shuu looked only slightly lost, and it didn't take him long to find the right chemicals and pouring it over the coin. There was an impressive bubbling and then the Petri dish shattered into tiny bits. Shuu took his cue.
"Bronzium. The metal is bronzium. I didn't think it existed but wow, there it is. Where'd you get this?" he asked the strange man.
"I'm told it came from Siyan King," he said quietly. He was obviously pissed about something, and Shuu didn't dare tick him off any more than he already was. The scarred man felt almost like the Shadow.
. . . nah. Couldn't be.
"I don't doubt it," Shuu said, pushing. "The ancient Chinese believed this was the very stuff that the universe was made of."
"Could it be made into a weapon?"
Shuu pondered. Now the lingo was starting to go over his head. "Theoretically, yes. Bronzium is very unstable on the molecular level. Once the atomic particles are broken from their bonds everything becomes chaos. Fashioned into a bomb it would be catastrophic. Once triggered, the damage would be incalculable."
"An explosion?"
"No, no explosion would do it," Shuu explained. "An implosion, now that would do it. It would need a beryllium sphere in order to trigger it. Here," Shuu motioned to a chalkboard. His lab assistant, Image, cleaned the board quickly and pulled out a piece of chalk. "See," Shuu explained. "It would have to be a sort of a shell, with tiny implosive devices spread at regular intervals, like this. An implosive-explosive sub-molecular device."
"An atomic bomb," they said simultaneously, both wanting to get the credit.
"But nothing like this exists," Shuu said finally. He finished his role! He finished his role! No more scenes, yay! He was done with the movie! As soon as the camera was off he would make a beeline for the buffet table.
The scene reopened to Rowan in his lab. He was tinkering on the same device from his earlier scene. In fact, if one looked at the gadget, it rather looked like the image that Image had drawn in the previous scene. Rowan pulled out a wrench and continued to work on the device, making minute alterations that only a perfectionist would care to fix.
"Shut. Up."
Spoil sport.
"Hashiba Rowan."
Rowan looked up to the voice, perturbed that his work had been interrupted. How was he supposed to make this implosive device into something less catastrophic if he wasn't allowed to work? The nerve of the Warlords.
"Hashiba Rowan."
"Leave me alone," he replied, pulling out a screwdriver and tinkering some more.
"Hashiba Rowan."
He steadfastly ignored the calling.
"Damn it, Hashiba; just go to the balcony and do your scene with me!"
Rowan grumbled about this rather loudly. He slid off his stool and stomped out to the balcony, overlooking the New York night skyline, which was rather beautiful he had to admit. Directly across from him was a billboard, depicting some handsome man smoking some brand-name cigarette. However, the man didn't stay long, before his face was replaced with Rajura's. Image was playing with Photoshop again.
"Hashiba Rowan."
Not particularly feeling like falling victim to mind-control, Rowan noted that this might be a good time to do a commercial of his own. On anti-smoking.
"Commonly known facts that most people the twins know, know about smoking. A cigarette has over two-thousand agents within that are known to cause cancer. Around five-hundred-thousand smokers die per year. Three-quarters of all smokers want to quit, but can't without help. Sidestream smoke from the end of a cigarette has twice the tar, and three times the benzopyreen, carbon monoxide, and ammonia as mainstream smoke because it hasn't been filtered by the smoker's lungs. For every minute of deep inhaling smoking, one minute is taken off your life. The average smoker dies eight years before the average non-smoker. A child, who starts smoking before fifteen years of age and continues to smoke through their life, is half as likely to reach the age of seventy-five."
"Hashiba Rowan," Rajura growled. "You can't stop a smoker from smoking if they want to. In an age about free choice, let them chose to kill themselves. No get back to the script."
Rowan grumbled again.
"Hashiba Rowan! Do what I tell you!"
Rowan sighed. This wasn't his day.
The organ music from the radio drama blasted the audience.
The scene reopened to the Cobalt Club once more, where Commissioner Doji and Cale were both looking handsome in tuxes once again. The audience cheered.
"You know, Cale," Shuten started, smiling coldly, "it amazes me how a man such as yourself, who has absolutely nothing to do, can be late for every single engagement he has."
Cale grinned wolfishly. "Practice, Uncle Doji, practice."
"Bull," Shuten replied. "At least in the radio drama you had a 'job' as a criminalist, or scientist, or what-have-you. But in the movie, you are just a wealthy young man about town."
"I don't think I have to tell you to but out of my business, do I?" Cale asked quietly.
"I'm supposed to be your uncle. That means your business is my business."
Cale sat back into the shadows, letting his winter blue eyes shine. "You will stop meddling in my personal life."
Shuten grunted.
"It is not your business."
"Just don't be late again," the commissioner grumbled.
Cale sat forward again, extremely grateful that the movie version of the Shadow gave him such a little gift. It rather came in handy.
"Oh no, here comes that damned Kayura." Poor Shuten was having a very bad day and his lamenting made all of his fans appreciate him even more.
"Commissioner, what are you going to do about my father," Kayura demanded, storming up to their table and looking damn sexy in her evening gown and furs. The male half of the audience cheered even louder than the Shuten and Cale fans who were cheering their men in tuxes.
"I can't do anything," Shuten replied calmly. "He's currently working for the War Department. If he decides what he's doing is too sensitive to allow a visitor, that's his business, not mine. Besides, he's just an eccentric scientist, isn't he?" The commissioner's immaculate appearance was suddenly ruined by a hurricane force wind that seemed to only affect him. Flustered and blustered, Shuten tried to straighten out his ruined appearance, still addressing Kayura. "I can't do anything unless he's been missing for twenty-four hours. And as long as you can still contact him, my hands are tied."
Kayura slammed her bag down onto the table, making the plates shake and the glasses come dangerously close to falling. "He's not doing anything that's top secret. He's only doing energy research, some sort of implosive device. He has no reason to lock himself up in the lab and not let his own daughter in."
Cale raised an eyebrow, thinking back to his conversation with Shuu. He slid back into the shadows, gathered up his coat, gloves, scarf, and most importantly his hat, and discretely left the club.
"Kayura," Shuten replied, sounding shocked. "Is he the one you have a crush on?"
Kayura went scarlet.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Back when the twins were writing 'Gatekeeper: No Not Aki', you let it slip that you had a crush on one of the bishounen. Was it Hashiba? Why? Because he bothered to talk to you in the series instead of yell at you?"
Kayura's shakujo came out of nowhere and handed very hard on Shuten's red head.
"Mr. Sasaki, what do you think?" she turned to find that Cale had disappeared.
"That bastard," she muttered and ran off after him. "Cale!" She caught up with him at a cab, noticing that Sekky was driving. And Cale was willingly entering the death trap? Brave man.
"Cale, I need to talk to you."
Cale ignored her.
Kayura didn't particularly like that and grabbed his arm, whirling him around. "Anubisu!" she hissed.
Cale glared at her, his winter blue eyes boring a cold hole into her.
"Who is Anubisu?" she pressed forward. "Why did my father say his name? Why was my father speaking in Chinese when he's never even been to China? What's going on?"
Pulling his arm free, Cale skipped the part where he was supposed to put Kayura under mind control and merely entered into the cab, grateful that Sekky peeled rubber to get away from the curb.
"Where to, boss?" Sekky hissed.
In the back seat, Cale's appearance changed, his face becoming harder and colder. His scar seemed to become more prominent, and his winter blue eyes shined brightly. A dark black-red scarf covered manifested itself around the lower half of Cale's face, and the black overcoat shifted into a cloak, finishing the transformation of Cale Sasaki, wealthy young man about town, the Shadow, mysterious character who aides the forces of law and order.
The Shadow laughed.
Luna sighed, bored out of her mind. "Nii-san, what do you want for supper tonight?"
Her brother shrugged his shoulders.
"Ugh, not burgers and fries again. I'm so sick of American food. Why not try something different? Italian? French?"
Her brother shook his head adamantly.
Luna gave a frustrated sigh. "Then what?" she demanded.
Luna's brother was unable to answer, however. A kunai appeared from nowhere and embedded itself in her poor brother's chest.
"Nii-san? Nii-san! Nii-saaaaaaaan! She turned to her attacker, but saw none. "I will avenge my brother! I will make you pay!" Luna pulled out her hunter's knife, her braid swinging as she charged blindly down the hall. The gunshot stopped her cold, and she fell bonelessly to the floor. "Ryo. . ." she whispered before her eyes glazed over.
"Luna? Lunaaaaa!"
Ryo was promptly gagged by Mirror and then tied up. He wasn't about to go on another rampage over lost innocents, not while she was in the room, thank you.
Inside the lab Luna and her brother had so poorly been guarding, Professor Hashiba made the finishing touches on his implosive device and put it delicately in a box. Out of nowhere, many tin can Mongol warriors appeared, lead by none other than Cye. He was getting a lot of cameos, much to his displeasure.
"Grab the case, Rowan," he said in fragmented Japanese. Hey, he was the dub actor, not the sub. "Let's go."
Cye had just about reached the door when suddenly there was that eerie, echoing laugh. The audience gave a great cheer. Finally! They had waited long enough, thank you! Cye, ignorant of this, looked around with frightened eyes. He knew full well he was supposed to be on the receiving end of that laugh, and it wasn't a pleasant thought. He grabbed a crossbow, thought better of it, and grabbed a yari. Better to fight with what you know. Ordering Rowan to put the case on a designated safe desk, Cye motioned for the tin cans to look around. The Brit himself went out onto the terrace/balcony, wondering where the laugh was coming from and just how much breath control the Shadow had in order to laugh this long.
One question was answered very quickly. A shadow stretched out over the floor of the terrace, outlining that of a man wearing a fedora. Cye swiped his yari behind him, exactly where the owner would have been standing. It only struck air. Damn it, how did the twins DO this? What was the trick of making the Shadow not only invisible, but intangible?
Well, the Shadow wasn't about to answer that question; instead he landed a hard right hook into Cye's jaw, sending him sliding along the floor. "Bloody hell," he whispered.
"Bloody lip, actually. Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!" The Shadow laughed at his own joke, enjoying watching Cye wipe his mouth and discovering the blood.
"Bloody git," Cye muttered. He grabbed his yari and swung again, following the Shadow's voice and hoping to eventually make contact. When he finally did, the Shadow made his appearance, fading into view as if fog faded away, revealing himself. Cye blinked, not expecting such a cool transition. The Shadow used that, and his leverage, to his advantage and flipped Cye over the edge of the terrace.
Were it not for his armor - summoned in record time - Cye would have been road kill. Landing with enough force to crack the pavement for several feet, he got up to find an armored Sekky in front of him.
"Ah, the little fish Torrent has finally shown his true colors." The snake grinned happily, the manic look he often had when driving now covering his face. "And here I was beginning to think all I would do in this movie is drive."
Cye dove for his previously discarded yari.
Meanwhile, up in the lab, the Shadow was making very short work of the tin cans. Greasy smoke had long since filled the room, making it difficult for the remaining tin cans to see who they were fighting. In fact, it was not uncommon to see the green soldiers killing each other. The Shadow figured this was pretty straight forward, and didn't even bother to cloud their puny minds. Hashiba stood listlessly in a corner by his precious box. As choreographed, the desk wasn't even scratched, while the rest of the tables and desks, littered with all the tubes and beakers and chemicals mentioned previously, were being shattered into tiny bits and pieces. It was a miracle none of the chemicals were mixing together and creating even more problems.
There were only two tin cans left. The Shadow turned to face them when a gold flash whizzed toward him, planting itself in his arm and pinning him to the wall. What? Looking down, he saw one of Strata's arrows. Throwing his winter blue gaze to the blue haired professor, he found Hashiba in armor and his bow out, another arrow cocked and ready.
One of the tin cans said something in his buzz saw voice, and Rowan armored down and calmly took his bow and walked to the door.
"Hope that hurts," he said warmly, and walked away, the two remaining tin cans following him.
The Shadow roughly pulled the arrow out, staring at it in disbelief. So the Ronin rodents had some backbone after all. A low, creepy chuckle escaped his lips as he literally disappeared.
Cye and Sekky were panting, their armors and the surrounding streets burnt and crumpled and cracked. The fight had only lasted a few minutes, and both participants had given their all. Sekky was enjoying the little warm up, and Cye was mystified as to why this was even happening.
Sekky charged again, all six swords diving towards him. Cye prepared to counter, when something hard struck the back of his head and he fell, unconscious.
"Hey, no fair," Sekky exclaimed. "I was about to have his head."
The Shadow revealed himself from the fog he had used and held up the bloody golden arrow.
Sekky stared at it, and then saw the bleeding arm. "Oh. No time for fun, I guess."
"Drive," the Shadow said wearily. He didn't even pray for his life, indicating to Sekky that this might actually be serious. In quick work, he placed Cale Sasaki in the cab and broke every speed limit he knew in order to get him home.
Kayura stomped her foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator to reach the proper floor. She had gotten a call from her father, but he still sounded very odd. He had finally asked to see her and he was about to get one hell of an earful. He'd worried her sick! Not that the Cale or Shuten would ever hear that from her.
There was finally the ping of the elevator door opening and Kayura burst from the doors with a storm brewing around her. She stopped cold when she saw Luna and her brother dead on the floor.
Eyes widening, Kayura rushed for the door and slammed it open. The lab was a mess, save for one desk that seemed to have remained untouched.
"Kayura Hashiba."
Kayura stormed out onto the balcony, and glared at Rajura across the street in the smoking advertisement. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Kayura Hashiba."
"Damn it, Rajura," Kayura fumed, "what the hell did you do?"
"Kayura, just do what I tell you or we'll never get out of this script."
"Like hell! I'm not some brainless bimbo, you know! You can't control me!"
The image of Rajura reached out a smoky hand and whacked Kayura on the head.
Needless to say, she was rather surprised before she fell unconscious.
When Kayura came to, she was getting her furs taken off by Rajura. Her reaction was instantaneous. Rajura found himself flat on the intricate floor, a shakujo pinning him down. Rowan patted Kayura on the shoulder in appreciation of her instincts, before handing her an elaborate gun and a singular bullet.
"You're supposed to go kill the Shadow," he explained seeing as how Rajura was indisposed at the moment.
"Will you be okay?" Kayura asked. "Rajura's being unusually bizarre at the moment."
Rowan offered a smile and his fans cheered. "I've got my cheering section to protect me if all else fails." Said fans agreed. Very loudly. Then flooded the aisles to try and enter the screen and protect the Ronin in question.
"Fine," Kayura muttered, grabbing her fur coat once more and exiting the scene.
When the scene reopened, Cale, in an undershirt, was sitting in a plush upholstered chair, holding a rope tight on his arm in an attempt to cut off circulation long enough to stop the bleeding of the wound he'd received from that damned Strata's arrow.
Sekky walked over with a cloth and bottle of something. He swathed the cloth and pressed it onto the wound. The alcohol caused Cale to yell out in pain. Many fans in the audience offered their support.
"Damn those twins," Cale hissed.
"It's your own fault," Sekky explained. He rubbed some more, eliciting more yells. "You don't bother reading anything until there's an action sequence. Where does your knowledge of the script pick up, anyway?"
"About halfway through this scene."
"Then you knew you were going to get hurt. Why didn't you dodge it?"
"Because I didn't know that the lab was the fight scene!" he shouted. The scarred man gritted his teeth as Sekky slapped another coat of rubbing alcohol on the wound before slapping a bandage. "You have no bedside manner," he muttered.
"Not for people who should know better," Sekky admonished. He picked up some gauze and wrapped the wound, making sure it was painfully tight. His work done, he wordlessly left the room and exited the house through the back way.
Cale continued to grumble for several minutes before he realized Sekky had left all the first aid supplies strewn about the room. Cursing vehemently, Cale realized that he hated this movie. Yes, he liked that Lamont Cranston actually had some meat to him, but he hated Rajura and the idea that he had his powers, he hated Kayura for the ability to read his mind, he hated the twins for not giving him time to go over the whole script, he hated just about everything.
There was a creaking sound and Cale looked up. His million dollar mansion had creaky floors? Cale stood away from the door, knowing full well that he had a reflection in a full standing mirror. With baited breath he waited until the door creaked open.
A pearly gun inched forward, held by a woman's hand. It fired at the reflection of the mirror. Stepping forward, Lady Kayura entered the room. Her face was completely blank, her eyes glassy and her mind empty.
Cale waved a hand in front of her face and, seeing no reaction, happily entered her empty brain to see what was wrong.
"Margo Lane," he said. It was the trigger to the hypnotic suggestion.
Kayura blinked, looking around. Of course, having no idea of what had happened, how she got here, or why there was a shirtless man in front of her, she of course assumed the worst case scenario.
"Hentaaaaaaaaaaaai!" she shouted. She slapped Cale several times, mixing in punches randomly before finally pulling out her shakujo and using it like a baseball bat. Cale was sent flying across the room, mentally adding broken jaw and cracked ribs to his ever increasing list of injuries. The pointy end of the shakujo pricked his neck, and the stiletto heals of Kayura's shoes poked into his cracked ribs. "You presumptuous, overbearing, testosterone MAN! How dare you try to take advantage of a pretty, innocent girl like myself?"
Cale raised an eyebrow and asked, "If I was taking advantage of you, how come you're in my house and there's a bullet in my mirror?"
Kayura risked a glance over and saw the evidence of what he had said. She scrutinized him further before finally letting him up.
"You're so generous," Cale said, snapping his jaw back into place with a sickening crack. Then he asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I don't know," she said lamely. "There was a voice, over and over in my head, telling me I had to kill the Shadow." She paused, the realization hitting her slowly. "Damn you Rajura!" she shouted. "I'm too smart to be controlled like that you jerk! What did you do to me while you drugged me, huh? If you think what I did to Cale was bad, wait till you see what I'm going to do to you!" She stopped in the middle of her tirade as another realization dawned on her. "I had to kill the Shadow and I came here." She threw a look at Cale. "Anubisu, Cale Sasaki, the Shadow. You're the Shadow!"
Cale got up, the camera noticing that his jaw was healed. A different day of shooting, you understand. "Get out."
Kayura sniffed. "Fine. I don't need your help anyway. I'm a woman, I can find my father and kill Rajura by myself."
Cale grabbed her as she moved to the door. "Excuse me," he said lightly, an annoyed tone in his voice. "But if Rajura could hypnotize you and make you come here to kill me, I don't think you're quite capable of handling this. Besides," he added quickly at her death glare, "if you alter the script to much the twins might decide to do something."
THAT struck Kayura with fear. The girly voice she used for Margo in the radio drama asserted itself. "Please, please help my father," she pleaded.
Cale pursed his lips and sighed. Fans cooed. "Just be gone when I get back."
"Wait," Kayura said, her girly voice still at work. "How will you know that I won't tell anyone? How will you know I won't do anything?"
Cale let his winter blue eyes go cold, the eyes of the Shadow, and he leaned forward, inches from Kayura. The twelve year old froze from fear of a different kind. He was creepy.
His voice was lower, silkier, and more dangerous. "I'll know."
With that he left.
The scene reopened near the alley that led to Cale's hidden Sanctum. Sekky's cab pulled up to the curb and Cale started to get out of the cab.
"Boss," Sekky whispered. "Take a peek in my side view."
Cale didn't appear to have heard a word, but once he was out of the cab, he adjusted his fedora, observing the reflection that Sekky had mentioned. He was being followed by a tin can Mongol warrior.
"Follow us," Cale murmured, then proceeded down the street away from his hideout. The tin can followed, completely unnoticed by the crowds, despite being dressed in samurai armor and wielding weapons of many varieties, including guns. His walk took him to Chinatown, where he easily slid through the crowds celebrating some sort of Chinese holiday. Cale made a mental note to ask Shuu what it was. Once in the bustling streets, Cale easily hid himself in the shadows, baffling the soldier. He grinned wolfishly. The hunt was on.
Cale moved easily through the crowds, following the Mongol soldier and giving the audience quite a show of how a wolf hunts its prey. The male half of the audience appreciated the strategies and cunning, while the female half appreciated the graceful movements and fluid motion. The twins certainly know how to please the fans when they wanted to.
The Mongol led Cale to a plane Chinese restaurant and ascended the stairs. Cale followed, not bothering to hide his presence any more. The restaurant had only one customer at the moment. Rajura. Rajura was still dressed in fine Chinese silks and eating like a nobleman. Walking over and depositing his hat and coat on a nearby table, Cale smiled coldly. "An impressive plan," he murmured in his soft, silky voice. "Too bad you don't have the beryllium sphere to complete the bomb."
Rajura laughed, somewhat maniacally. "You're so damn arrogant. Do you honestly think that your country is the new cradle of civilization?"
Cale chuckled coldly. "I don't give a damn about these cocky Americans. I just don't want Hiroshima or Nagasaki to happen again."
"Please," Rajura retorted. "You care about these upstart bastards," he continued, getting into the role of Shi Wan Khan. "I am talking about ruling the world, having all the power."
"I have a name for you," Cale replied, pulling out a pencil and paper. "Saber-stryke. He's an excellent shrink."
"You--"
"You sit down; you talk; he listens. Together you may be able to--"
"--are boring me!"
Cale easily dodged the incoming pointy object, seeing as how he had some practice with Kayura in his previous scene. As it turned out, the pointy object in question was a knife, with a tiger shaped hilt that rather looked like Byakuen. Or was it Black Blaze? Cale never could tell the difference.
"Oh that knife," he murmured.
"Yes, beautiful isn't it?" Rajura replied, admiring the blade. "I got it from Kaosu. Or rather, I got it out of Kaosu, after I rammed it through his heart."
Ronins and Troopers cried out, and the twins had to transport them across the world in order for the scene to continue uninterrupted.
Cale's reaction was instantaneous. He grabbed the knife and prepared to strike.
The knife, however, wouldn't let him.
"You never could master that knife, could you?" Rajura observed haughtily. The Mongol warrior by his side pointed a gun at Cale's head. "You are such a fool. For this movie I have power. I can see your mind clearly. It is like an open book to me."
Cale glared at Rajura coldly, before grinning. And laughing. "You are obviously illiterate then."
From inside his coat he pulled out the golden arrow that Strata had shot him with and drove it into the Mongol warrior, letting the greasy black smoke blind Rajura. Kicking the table into Rajura's face, Cale grabbed his coat and hat and flipped easily across the restaurant, pulling out the gun he was supposed to use for this scene.
Rajura rubbed the smoke out of his eyes and pulled out his gun as well.
Both fired.
Rather than the bullets hitting each other in midair, like they were supposed to, Cale's bullet shattered the glass behind Rajura and Rajura's bullet bored into the door that Cale was heading for.
What the hell was the editor doing?
Rajura leapt out the window, down into an awaiting sidecar of a motorcycle and Cale got into the open cab that Sekky had ready and waiting.
"Don't loose them," he growled.
"Like I'd let him get away with killing Kaosu," Sekky hissed.
Cale didn't have any objections to the crazy driving as a car chase scene rivaling that of the Matrix came up on screen. It came to an abrupt halt, however, as the motorcycle seemed to just up and disappeared.
Sekky slammed on the breaks, sliding the car up to the curb of an empty lot that was seen earlier in the movie. Cale stepped out of the cab, looking at the lot and up through the New York skyline. Something didn't feel right.
"What's wrong?" Sekky asked.
Cale said nothing, but merely started to laugh.
The movie seemed to be going lightning fast. We're halfway through the movie and only thirty pages into the fic. Cale wondered absently if that meant anything. On second thought, it's better not to pry. If it was going fast, maybe they'd finish early and then he could pound the twins for the hell they were putting him through that much sooner.
With that pleasant thought in mind he went home. Now that he actually knew what was going to happen, there would be no more surprises. That thought also made him smile as he entered his rich, rich home.
The happy thoughts disappeared, however, when he saw Kayura asleep on one of his many couches. What the hell?
"And she accuses me of being presumptuous and overbearing," he muttered. However, he knew better than to try and wake her up, so he left her on the couch and also made sure to lock his bedroom door. She wasn't going to accuse him of anything if he had any say in the matter.
Well, he forgot the twins were writing this fic. We didn't want Kayura to get a kink in her neck and have to hold her head sideways for the next scene, so we set her up in one of the many bedrooms of Cale's house and put her in a nice nightgown.
So, the next morning, Cale awoke to find Kayura over his head and wielding her staff dangerously.
"You know," he said wearily. "This is getting a little old."
"Really?" Kayura asked sweetly. "Then let me do something different." She tossed aside her staff and easily picked him up, throwing him across the room.
Damn those twins.
"Whatever the hell you think it is that I did, I didn't do it!" Cale shouted in automatic defense of himself.
"Men!" Kayura cried. "Why was I created in a series that is dominated by men? What did I do to deserve this?"
"You're a fine one to talk!" Cale shouted, thoroughly fed up. "You're the one standing over my bed in a nightgown and ready to beat me! Maybe I should be wondering what you were going to do!"
Kayura took offense. "How dare you think that! I'm not a man, I'm not so insensitive that I'd go walking about this mansion cavorting with whoever wanted my bed!"
"And who the hell ever said that I did?" Cale roared, his blue eyes nearly bulging. "Damn it, woman, I'm not even dressed yet!"
The twins, while enjoying the argument, decided to step in before Kayura could retort. With a snap of magical fingers, both parties were fully dressed, Cale in an expensive suit, and Kayura in an expensive woman's suit. Ah, much better. Now then, lines? Please?
"Yeah," Kayura said, still surprised that she looked so smart in her latest movie outfit. She was beginning to like the costume people in this movie. Hell, if it wasn't for Cale and his attitude, she was beginning to like the movie, too. "So, where are we going?"
Cale, however, wasn't as big a fan over the movie. "We?" he repeated.
"I thought you knew the script about now?" Kayura asked sweetly.
Cale glanced around, and, to his consternation, couldn't find he little booklet. Had the twins taken it? "We?" he asked again.
"Well yes," Kayura said, her girly voice slipping in. "You're helping me to find my father, and being the capable, strong, independent woman I am, I'll be of great help to you. Won't I?" she added, a hint of malice in her voice.
Not about to be knocked around again, Cale simply said, "Fine. Whatever." He walked out of the room, expecting her to follow him. After a moment of grumbling, she did. "It's all falling into place, Rajura needs a beryllium sphere to complete the bomb." He wasn't about to share everything he knew.
"Okay, then your first stop should be to Seiji Date," she said brightly. "He works with my father a little bit, and his area of research is the beryllium sphere."
"Fine." Cale exited the mansion and found Sekky sleeping in his cab. Had he stayed the whole night? Aw, sweety.
"Excuse me?" Cale asked the camera.
"Excuse me," Kayura said, stepping in front of him. "Don't. You. Have. An. Assignment. For. Me?" The words were forced, but she dared not refrain from saying them.
"Okay," Cale answered brightly, an evil glint entering his eye. He pulled out a handy piece of paper and scribbled an address. "Research this," he said, then stepped into the cab and woke up Sekky, driving off.
Kayura, shocked, stood at the front steps.
"Cale you jerk!"
Rowan pointed out to the Statue of Liberty, "From there," and then over to Times Square, "to there. And for those of you who actually live in New York, this is probably highly inaccurate. In any case, that would be just the explosion. The damage is incalculable."
Rajura smiled, still decked out in his intricate silks, and admired the crystal blue sky of the cold winter from his place atop the Empire State Building. He may not have been overly fond of America, but it certainly had some magnificent views.
Rowan continued to ramble on about radiation, its dangers, and what will happen to the people of New York when the radiation hit, as well as all people east of the city since the winds would blow the fall out across Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and the rest of the eastern seaboard.
Rajura ignored him, enjoying the weather and the view. He passed a pair of Sand-strykers, who both thought that Rajura looked good in a "dress" and commented on it. Rajura merely smiled and threw them both off the building.
Hey, wait a minute. Isn't this scene supposed to come in the middle of the previous one? Who the hell is the editor and why can't we find him?
Seiji walked briskly to an odd spherical building on the waterfront. The inside was vacant except for some pressurizing like machines. Seiji continued to walk briskly toward the mechanical things, noting the measurements and taking notes on a clipboard. What was he doing here? That's anyone's guess.
There was a low, silky laughter, seeming to emit from everywhere. Seiji whirled around, his violet eyes narrow. "Where are you?" he called out. He'd be damned if Cale was going to get the better of him.
"Where is the beryllium sphere, Date?" the voice asked. The cavernous structure of the sphere bounced the voice back and forth, making direction indeterminable and frustrating Seiji. He did have a counter to this, though.
"Sphere?" he asked, moving his hand to the pressure gauge. "What sphere?"
"Date you idiot!" The Shadow was enjoying his railing of Seiji a little too much. "Your overly simple mind is being controlled. Where did it go?"
"I don't know," Seiji said. He finally reached the right lever and pulled with all his strength. The pressure of the machine dropped as water spewed out of the machine. It was not long until it began filling the sphere. The floor was soon completely covered, and Seiji pulled out his extended no datchi from hammer space.
"Foolish, foolish Date," the Shadow said. Image was beginning to wonder if Cale was enjoying the scene a little too much. "A moment of clever thinking from Torrent will not save you. The Shadow can cloud your mind so that you cannot see him. That includes any foot mark you might think I would leave in the water. Surely even you are smart enough to comprehend that little fact. But then, you always were a little slow."
Okay, that did it. Nobody insults the intelligence of MY Seiji-kins!
Image pulled that little yellow neon light she had used earlier and gave it to Seiji, pointing out exactly where the Shadow was. Seiji blinked, not expecting such a favor, but grinned and took advantage of it. With a massive leap, he swung his sword with expert skill at the yellow arrow.
There was a grunt and a small drop of blood that appeared in the water, as well as the footfalls that had been hidden before. Seiji smiled brightly, not realizing that sugar was falling in the theatre. "Hey Image, I take back what I said in my opening scene. Thanks!" He waved to the camera and exited the sphere, taking the lever he had used to begin the water flow and using it to lock the door.
"See you around, Cale," Seiji said brightly.
Inside, Cale allowed himself to become visible, fading into view like burning off fog, and curse a loud and long blue streak that the twins had to bleep out.
"Damn you stupid twins!" he finally said. Half wading, half swimming, he made his way to the door to discover that Seiji had locked it. "Korin! I'll get you for this you stupid blond demon eyed child sized excuse of a twip!" He pulled and pushed at the door, turning the knob every which way with no success. Of course, having used a sword and not a gun, there were no convenient air holes for him to breathe out of. He was really in a pickle if he didn't find a way out of here.
Miraculously, his leather booklet floated over to him. He'd thought he had lost it, but he quickly grabbed it, thankful the pages were waterproof, and flipped to see what he was supposed to do next.
"No! Absolutely not! I will not ask for help from Lady Kayura!"
Too late. His shout reached the mind of said Lady, and she stopped in mid stride down the hall of the library she had been walking down. The impression was really strong, and at first she could do little more than just stare off. But as realization dawned on her, a broad smile split her face.
"This is justice," she said happily. "I'm saving the hero." Outside the library, Sekky was already waiting, and he beat his previous speed record from earlier scenes as he made his way to the waterfront. Kayura, who was staring to get used to riding a car that drove on two wheels, didn't even flinch as he pulled some impressive one-eighty degree turns and finally screeching to a halt at the sphere.
Kayura happily walked up to the door and unlocked it.
She was not so happy when the entire sphere's worth of water came pouring out onto her. Dripping wet and several feet from the cab, she finally got enough traction to stop herself. Sekky was not far away, his own cursing streak being bleeped out. Certain snakes hate the water, you understand. Cye filed away that information for later use.
Despite the speed records, it had taken several precious minutes to arrive at the waterfront, and with no air holes, Cale had gone those precious minutes without air. He alternated between gasping for air and choking up water. The sight was slightly disturbing, and both Sekky and Kayura abandoned their indignation to see if he was alright.
Of course he wasn't, so the camera cut to the three of them in Cale's mansion. Sekky was mixing random herbs to bring down a fever the water had given him as Kayura added a cold compress.
"Damn. We're out of some stuff." Sekky got up and grabbed a dry jacket. "I'll be right back." He disappeared to parts unknown, leaving Kayura and Cale alone. The thought perturbed Kayura, but she bit down the feeling, knowing full well this wasn't the time or place for it. She refilled the basin with fresh water and pulled a few stray hairs away from Cale's face. It was the perfect opportunity for the psychic ability she had been given for the movie to decide to pop up, sending Kayura plunging unexpectedly into Cale's mind.
The images were graphic, violent, and bloody. They shook her out of her reverie to see Cale glaring at her with the Shadow's eyes.
"That was private," he whispered.
"I'm sorry," she said lamely. "I didn't mean."
"Do me a favor," Cale said bitterly. "The next time you have the urge to whack me over the head for something you think that I did, remember this and remember that I didn't whack you; and I have reason to."
With that, Cale kicked her out of his room and slammed the door, locking it behind him.
Kayura stared at the door for a moment. "Cale you jerk!" she shouted before stomping off to her own room.
Seiji was pissed again.
Why?
He was enduring Rajura's overacting.
Rajura was currently strolling rather grandly around the same intricate room that all his previous scenes had taken place in, talking about how absolutely grand he was and how smart he was and how he'd defeat the Shadow without any problems.
And Seiji had to endure all of this without saying a word. He was suffering greatly. However, the audience was extremely relieved since Mirror was at the keyboard and not Image, since there was no falling sugar.
"My Mongol warriors," Rajura continued. "We owe a small debt of gratitude to the only American--"
"Nihonjin," Seiji spat. "Gaijin ja nai desu."
Rajura kept speaking as if Seiji hadn't interrupted him. "--who was intelligent enough to join my forces. Who saw himself a king, in my kingdom."
"What?" Seiji demanded.
Rajura knocked him down to the floor.
"I said and thought no such thing!"
Seiji was flat on the ground again.
"The script was altered, I didn't say that line!"
Down again.
"You bastard!"
Flat once more.
Seiji growled, but said nothing. He didn't particularly feel like tasting the floor again, thank you very much.
"It's so much fun talking to my inferiors," Rajura stated.
Seiji fans in the audience went into an uproar.
The scene faded to black and Ryo's voice as the narrator came up. On the screen, newspaper clippings visualized what Ryo was saying. Mirror sighed dreamily at Ryo's voice.
"A message was delivered to all newspapers, radio stations, police departments, and city hall. The message claimed that a man, a madman, would blow up New York City unless he was given world treasures, such as gold, precious jewels, and famous art pieces."
The newspapers flashed various headlines for the audience to read.
"The city entered into a panic, uncertain if such a claim could even be justified, if the city was even that vulnerable. However, New Yorkers are a resilient bunch. They were nervous, certainly, but in a New York minute, they were back to going about their business. This must have been some sort of promotional gig of some sort, or perhaps some kind of public stunt. Nothing to worry about."
The organ music blasted the audience's brains.
The scene reopened to the opulent drawing room of Cale's mansion. Sekky was taking off the last of the bandages that Cale had needed over the movie behind a screen, providing privacy as Kayura, looking handsome in yet another suit-type outfit, rattled off information that she had been researching for Cale.
"The lot was originally for the old Hotel Monolith."
"I vaguely remember that," Cale muttered, finally able to put his crisp white shirt on. "Build in the roaring 20s, wasn't it?"
"Yup. But just before it was opened, the builder went bankrupt."
"Kinda states how much he put into that hotel doesn't it," Sekky offered.
"After that it was sold to some eastern buyer. Beyond that, there are no other records. It must have been torn down, since you saw nothing but an empty lot, but nobody can find any record of when or by whom."
Cale stepped out from behind the screen, looking distinguished in his suit. "Or if," he whispered.
"What?" Kayura asked.
Cale ignored her with his usual determination, and quickly left the room, Sekky automatically on his heels.
"Wait a minute, Cale," Kayura seethed. "What did you just say? Where are you going? Cale!"
The ride to the empty lot was filled with two-wheel turns and Kayura trying to beat an answer out of Cale and not succeeding.
Cale stepped out of the cab and looked up to the majestic hotel, filled in all the glamour of the 1920s, looking extravagant against the darkening sky.
Sekky and Kayura looked at the empty lot, to each other, then to Cale.
The building was exquisite as it appeared out of a fog, many thanks to Image playing with Photoshop again. "For an American construction," Cale whispered, "This is magnificent."
"Cale?"
"Boss?"
Cale turned to them, his winter blue eyes shining. He grabbed the arm of a passerby--Professor Yagyu--and pointed to the beautiful hotel before them. "What's the name of that building," he asked.
The old professor looked at the empty lot, then to Cale, and in true New Yorker fashion, ignored him and went about his business.
"Cale," Sekky hissed, "what's going on?"
Cale turned to them, his eyes shining and his appearance darkening into shadows. The rain began to fall lightly. "It's so nice to be one step ahead," Cale replied. "Kayura, go back to the mansion. You'll hear from me later. Sekky, I need to get to the Sanctum."
"Why?" Sekky asked, pulling away from the curb before Kayura could get in.
"HEY!" she cried out, getting soaked.
"Because we must prepare for the finale," the Shadow replied, then laughed.