Author's Note: This chapter didn't turn out anything like I expected. I thought I would get a lot farther in the plot than I did, but we all know how easily I get distracted by character scenes… I thought the scene with Touko would be so easy to write, but I ended up starting it out from three different points of view and each time it turned into a completely different scene! Finally, I managed to write it, though I hope the emotions seem believable. It's important to keep in mind that all the characters are pretty much emotionally strung out at this point and tempers are short. And how did that happen? Yeah… so I tortured them all, I know… But emotional scenes are fun to write…
Chapter 27
Have I Told You Lately that I Hate You?
Touko's hands were slick with sweat. She hated sweaty hands. She could deal with extreme temperatures—both hot and cold—and she could deal with perspiration on other areas of her body, but she could not stand sweat on her hands. Perhaps that was because her hands never sweat unless she was nervous, and she always associated being nervous with her childhood and lectures from her father—lectures that occasionally turned violent. She had read somewhere that the connection between sweaty hands and anxiety could be explained by evolution; humans sweat when they were nervous because their primate ancestors needed the sticky substance to grab tree limbs easily and escape from their enemies. But, in Touko's memory, sweaty hands had not once saved her from her enemies. Nothing had been able to do that.
Trish sighed deeply, drawing Touko's attention. The demon was gazing out the window at the passing scenery with a pensive expression; she looked so human most of the time it would have been easy to forget she was a demon, but Touko knew she shouldn't let her guard down. "So…" Trish said quietly without looking at her. "You're the Touko who attacked Robin, aren't you?"
Touko's heart leapt into a gallop. She had assumed Trish was unaware of what she had done under Beatrice's influence since Trish hadn't hesitated to help her escape the Factory, but apparently that was not the case. Touko's hands clenched the seat cushion as she searched desperately for an appropriate response.
"You were being controlled, I know," Trish added when Touko failed to say anything. "But I need to know exactly why you wanted to come with me so badly. You must realize no one will be happy to see you." She shifted her gaze to Touko with a sad smile, as if to soften the harshness of her words.
Touko slowly released her grip on the cushion. "I know. But I have to come." Folding her hands in her lap, she focused on them to avoid Trish's discerning blue eyes. "There's something I need to tell Amon."
"Somehow I don't think he'll want to hear anything you say." Trish's words, though blunt, were said with compassion.
"I'll have to make him hear me."
Trish shook her head. "Granted, I don't know him very well, but from what I do know he's a stubborn bastard. I don't think he can be made to do anything."
A smile crossed Touko's face at Trish's remark. "You're right. He is very stubborn. But I have to at least try."
"Listen," Trish said, placing a hand lightly on Touko's arm. Touko looked up at her reluctantly. "I don't think you're a bad person. I know what happened wasn't really your fault, but because you were controlled once, you are vulnerable to being controlled again by Beatrice. That's what he'll be thinking, at least. He won't trust anything you say."
Touko frowned. Trish had a valid point, and Touko had a possible solution in mind, but part of her wanted nothing less than to give up her reason to speak to Amon. She knew he would be cold to her—he had every reason to be, now—but Amon had been cold to her before. Their relationship had been unusual from the beginning, perhaps even unhealthy, but she had ignored Amon's mood swings and emotional neglect because they had been preferable to the abuse she had dealt with from every other man to enter her life. Amon had given her little during their relationship, but she had been willing to accept the lack because being with him had made her feel safe.
Thinking back on it now, she wondered if her jealousy of Amon's growing feelings for Robin had been less about losing him as a lover and more about losing the security of his presence. Amon had provided a buffer between her and her father, and though she had always known Amon was her father's man, she had liked to imagine he was hers as well. She had never seen anyone stand up to her father before, but she had always believed that Amon would have the strength to defy her father if he had reason to do so. She had dreamed he would someday be her champion, would defend her against her father's cruelty, but she was not the one he had chosen to defend.
And now she knew his secret, the weakness her father had exploited to keep Amon on his side. She could have chosen to follow her father's example and hold the knowledge over his head, but a vulnerable part of her still cared about him too deeply to hurt him in such a way. She knew he didn't belong to her—on some level she supposed she had always known—but it had occurred to her that he was not as strong as he seemed. He was likely as broken as she was inside—otherwise, he would not have allowed her father to use him.
Reaching for the neatly folded note she had tucked away in her pocket, Touko looked at Trish imploringly, hoping she was not making a mistake by entrusting something so important to her. "Does Amon trust you?"
Trish raised an eyebrow. "Does Amon trust anyone?"
"Will he trust you if you tell him you found something in the Factory?" Touko persisted.
"You mean, will he trust me if I lie that I found something in the Factory?" Trish's eyebrow had risen even higher.
Touko offered the note to Trish. "It has his name on it. I think he would want to know what it says."
Trish looked down at the paper in surprise. Taking it, she flipped it open and squinted at it for several moments. Touko looked out the window, watching Harry's coming into view around a curve in the road while the demon tried to make sense of the broken sentences on the torn piece of paper. Finally, Trish gasped and Touko knew she had seen the most important part and understood.
Snapping the paper shut, Trish leaned back in the seat, a shocked expression on her pretty features. "I'll be damned." Touko thought it would be best to refrain from mentioning the fact that Trish was already damned, seeing as she was a devil. "That bastard."
"My father is a cruel man," Touko said slowly, the words painful to say.
Trish seemed startled by her comment. "Well, yes. He is I'm sure. But I wasn't talking about him." Touko turned to look at her as the cab finally came to a stop in front of Harry's. "That bastard has absolutely no business robbing cradles," Trish explained. "He already has a daughter!" Her face was painted with outrage, but she immediately frowned with remorse when she saw the look on Touko's face. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."
Touko shook her head, feeling oddly numb. "It's all right." She gazed out through the window at the familiar façade of Harry's, the familiarity souring her stomach. "We're here."
"Yes," Trish agreed with a sigh. She handed the cab driver his payment with a murmured apology for the mess she had made with her orbo-covered clothes and opened the door. "Are you still coming with me?" she asked, pausing with the door open, looking in at Touko.
"He will probably be suspicious if I don't show up," Touko reasoned.
"He might. He might also be suspicious if you do. But that's nothing unusual. He's paranoid. The question is: what do you want to do?"
"I don't want to face them," Touko answered, mustering her determination, "but I'm tired of being weak." She reached for the door handle, cringing at the way her sweaty hand slipped on the metal.
Trish was smiling at her when she joined her on the sidewalk. "Let's go. Time to ruin everyone's day." Touko winced, but Trish patted her encouragingly on the back. "You're braver than you think. A weak person would not have tried escaping from that place on their own, and they certainly would not have helped someone like me. I don't think Beatrice could touch you again if she tried."
Touko didn't know what to say so she remained silent, but she was more grateful for Trish's support than words could express. Guilt nagged at her for her reluctance to trust Trish, and she realized that she had only been holding on to her father's prejudices. Perhaps humanity was something more than genes and ancestry. Maybe all one really needed to be human was a heart. Smiling sourly as she followed Trish into the dim restaurant, Touko realized that her father, if one used that kind of logic, was the least human of them all.
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"I'm telling you," Sakaki said enthusiastically, "if we had a huge Katamari, Beatrice wouldn't even be a problem. All we'd have to do is roll her up!" He made a sweeping gesture with his hands, outlining an invisible, vaguely circular shape.
Doujima shook her head, a blank look on her face. "Why is it that everything you say makes absolutely no sense?"
Sakaki wasn't paying attention to her. "Of course, we would have to start out with small things, you know, like paperclips, erasers and mahjong pieces. Those roll up easily. Then we could move our way up to PET cartons, shrubbery and eventually cats and dogs. And once you've rolled up a few of those it would be a piece of cake to roll up Beatrice and her gang." He paused thoughtfully. "Hmm…cake… you could roll up some of that too." Returning his focus to Doujima he asked, "Is there a cake constellation? If there were, you'd probably have to roll up all kinds of cakes to make it—shortcake, coffee cake, bundt cake… maybe even seven-layer citrus cake!"
Groaning in frustration, Doujima threw her hands up in the air. "I give up. I know it has to be something about a video game, but I don't even really care."
Sakaki shrugged in response. "Boy, I could really go for a piece of cake right now. I'm going to track down Master Harry." He left without another word, humming a jaunty tune that Doujima knew would be stuck in her head the rest of the day.
"He gives me such a headache…" she muttered, though she had to admit things would be a lot less interesting without him around.
Doujima glanced around the room for something else to keep her occupied. Robin was sitting serenely in her chair trying not to stare at Amon's back while Amon was standing at the window with his back to the room, effectively shutting the rest of them out. She couldn't say she was surprised; Robin rarely concentrated on anything but Amon anymore, and Amon was sulking because they had all seen him at his weakest twice in one day. They were sadly predictable and not very exciting. Sighing, Doujima turned her attention to Dante. He was slouched lazily in his chair, his head resting against the back and his eyes closed. Of the three, he was by far the most interesting to look at, even when he was doing nothing at all.
Object of interest number one: his hair. The silver strands looked so silken her fingers itched to touch them and determine if they were really as soft as they looked. Hair was her weakness. She loved the feel of it as it slid through her fingers, loved the smell of it when it was freshly washed, and loved the tickle of it when it brushed against her skin. She liked her men with enough hair on their heads for her to tangle her fingers in it; Sakaki's hair was barely long enough, but he refused to let it grow longer. Sakaki's hair was pleasantly soft, at least—but so was his face. He didn't have anything but peach fuzz on his chin. Doujima didn't really like beards or moustaches, but she didn't mind a little facial hair.
That led to object of interest number two: Dante's face. It was both well-proportioned and very masculine, but she couldn't help wondering if his skin would be rough to the touch. She had taken a personality test in a magazine once which described her as someone who was very in tune with her senses. That explained why she was so fascinated by the textural quality of things, she supposed—and also explained why she was so curious about whether or not Dante had stubble on his chin. He appeared to be cleanly shaven—unlike Amon with his stray, uncut hairs along his jaw—but Dante seemed like the kind of man whose skin would still have the texture of sandpaper even if the stubble was invisible.
Lost in her thoughts, she had unknowingly started leaning in her chair as she observed him, and now he was close enough to touch. A smirk touched her lips as she considered satisfying her curiosity. It wasn't as if she had anything better to do at the moment. Glancing furtively around the room, Doujima noticed Robin watching her inquisitively, a hint of worry betrayed by the crease between her brows. Doujima smiled to set her at ease, one finger hovering in front of her lips at a perpendicular angle as a warning for silence. Robin's expression of apprehension softened, though she still looked perplexed.
Doujima returned her attention to the demon in front of her. Leaning even further out of her chair, Doujima slowly reached a hand toward Dante's face, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. She couldn't predict how he would react to her action, but there was an element of danger in the possible outcomes that she found appealing.
Her hand was close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body when his eyes snapped open and he caught her wrist firmly in his hand, inadvertently pulling her off balance as he jerked her hand away from his face. She tripped over the leg of the table and fell straight toward him, landing with her head practically in his lap and her wrist still caught in his hand high above her head. Looking down at her with an arched brow, Dante leaned closer to her but kept her arm at an awkward angle.
"Enjoying the view?" he asked softly, his voice soft and suggestive.
A shiver ran down Doujima's spine, but she managed to keep her cool. "You have something on your face," she justified herself quickly.
"Oh? Is that why you were staring at me?"
"Here," Doujima said boldly, "let me wipe it off for you." She reached up with her free hand to rub over his chin as if wiping something away. Her theory was confirmed; his chin was delightfully rough to the touch. Pleased with herself, she asked coyly, "Can I have my arm back now?"
His expression said he didn't believe a word of her explanation, but he released her wrist anyway and she pushed herself to her feet. Leaning back in his chair again, Dante said with a smirk, "If you wanted to touch me that badly, all you had to do was ask."
A scoff of disgust from Amon made the blush rapidly spreading across her face intensify. She caught him glaring at her in the reflection in the window and fought the temptation to stick her tongue out at him. Shrugging, she decided the humiliation was worth it. "In that case," she said to Dante, "I have to know…" His eyes widened as she reached down and threaded her fingers through his silvery hair. It was beyond soft, she decided—as soft as his face was rough. She smiled, her eyes drifting closed. What a wonderful contrast.
"Doujima!" The hurt in Sakaki's voice was enough to make her snatch her fingers away from Dante's head. Spinning around, she saw him standing just inside the doorway with a plateful of cake, looking rather crestfallen.
Dante gave her back a gentle nudge, saying softly enough for her alone to hear his words, "It looks like he has some crumbs on his face. You'd better clean him up."
Summoning a smile, Doujima crossed the room quickly. "I was only researching, Haruto."
"Researching?" Sakaki echoed skeptically.
"Yeah, like when you play a demo for a new game," she said, toying with a strand of his hair. Sakaki's eyes narrowed. Her voice dropped into a more seductive tone. "But I think I like the old one better…"
"How much better?"
"You have something on your face." Doujima then proceeded to clean off the crumbs around Sakaki's mouth, but this time she didn't use her fingers.
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Robin found herself watching Doujima and Sakaki longer than she probably should have, stunned by their open display of affection. At last she tore her eyes away, a blush washing across her face. Doujima's actions confounded her. If she liked Sakaki, why had she been flirting with Dante? Robin felt slightly dirty after watching it all, a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was aware of how the majority of the world viewed sexuality, but she occasionally felt overwhelmed by outward demonstrations of it. To her, it was an intensely private thing and had no place in public. Perhaps she was naïve to feel that way, but she thought her feelings on the subject were too strong to change much with experience.
She didn't notice Amon watching her intently until she saw him move to look away. Watching his back for a few moments but getting no reaction, she finally returned her gaze to the table in front of her with a sigh. Her emotions felt raw between the emotional bombardment of the last several days and the constant exchange of emotions through her connection to Amon and Dante. She had always been sensitive to others' feelings—picking up on emotions simply by watching body language and listening to tone of voice—but now the emotions were real. They carried so much weight that she was finding her own emotions crushed beneath them, leaving her disoriented and confused.
"I swear," Dante muttered, startling her from her thoughts, "I'm going to start using Trish's shampoo every day if it has this kind of effect." He had caught a few strands of hair between his fingers and was looking at them out of the corner of his eye. "Hey," Dante said then, noticing her looking at him. "You doing okay, babe?"
She nodded silently, but she could tell he didn't believe her.
"You look really pale."
"I'm always pale," she responded with a small smile.
"Yeah," he admitted, cocking his head at her thoughtfully, "but now you're almost transparent."
"I'm just tired," she replied finally, hugging her arms to herself and closing her eyes.
"They're here," Amon announced without moving from his spot next to the window. The tangled mass of emotions he was subconsciously projecting intensified and Robin shuddered. Though she had always guessed Amon had emotions hiding behind his emotionless exterior, she had been unprepared for the intensity of them. She wondered if his constant repression of feelings caused them to strengthen over time, or if he had chosen to hide his feelings behind a mask simply because he felt things so strongly. Either way, his emotions at the moment were undoubtedly affected by the trauma of the last few days; he had been dealing with even more emotional turmoil than she had been faced with, and he wasn't someone who dealt with emotions well in the first place.
"It's about damn time." Dante said in response to Amon's announcement, relief obvious in his voice.
Robin felt anything but relief at the thought of Touko's arrival. Things had been awkward between them ever since she had walked in on Touko and Amon, but now things were far beyond mere discomfort. Robin had come to the conclusion after the incident that Touko had not consciously chosen to attack her or drug Amon, but the emotions which had led to Beatrice's manipulation of Touko had not yet been resolved. Things had become very complicated, especially with the way Robin's relationship with Amon was slowly developing, and Robin honestly didn't know what to expect. She felt as if she had stolen Amon away from Touko—which was a ridiculous idea, really, considering Amon never did anything unless he chose to do it on his own.
Still mentally preparing herself for Touko's arrival, Robin gasped in surprise when a sudden, powerful sensation hit her through the connection she had almost forgotten existed. It was an exhilarating feeling so intense Robin moaned breathlessly in response, her nerves tingling. She felt Amon and Dante watching her as soon as the sound escaped her lips, but she continued to focus on the table rather than meet the questions in their eyes, still reeling in the amazing feeling of euphoria. She had never felt anything like it before, but something about it made her feel vaguely uncomfortable and self-conscious, as if it was somehow immodest to feel such a thing in public. Her previous thoughts about Doujima's behavior came to mind suddenly and she blushed fiercely at the realization that the two experiences might be very similar.
"What was that?" Amon asked when the intensity of the feeling had faded, his voice weak.
"Beatrice isn't dead," Robin whispered.
"And she's feeling pretty damn good," Dante added, sucking in a deep breath.
"You guys are creeping me out," Doujima said, sitting down at the table again with Sakaki. "You all look like you're totally blissed out. What's going on?"
"She's alive again, isn't she?" Trish asked from the doorway and Robin stiffened, knowing Touko would be right behind her.
"You knew this was going to happen?" Amon's voice was cold and vaguely accusatory, but Robin was surprised to feel that the suspicion she heard in his voice was not what she felt from him. He seemed merely annoyed instead, as if he didn't like the fact that Trish knew something he did not.
"Yeah," Trish shrugged. "It's happened to me already."
Dante raised an eyebrow, whistling through his teeth. "You look like you just lost a paintball tournament, Trish. They really pumped you full of green slime, didn't they?"
"They wanted to make sure I was dead," Trish replied with a wry smile, taking a seat at the table.
Touko hesitated in the doorway, glancing briefly at Amon who was making a point of not looking at her. Her gaze skittered across the rest of them, meeting Robin's eyes only for a moment before she decided to look at the ground instead. Looking at her as she stood uncomfortably in the entrance, her usual poise torn to shreds, Robin realized Touko looked much more like the victim than the aggressor. Robin felt intensely guilty for ever considering that Touko would have honestly meant any of them harm, and even guiltier knowing she was the reason Beatrice had manipulated Touko in the first place. Touko was the one suffering the most now because of what had happened; Beatrice had used her to get to Robin, and then simply left Touko behind to deal with the anger and distrust her involuntary betrayal had caused.
The firm pressure of Amon's hand on her shoulder made her look up at him in surprise. She hadn't even noticed him move away from the window, but she knew he had done so only to get her attention. His frown told her that he didn't approve of her feelings of sympathy for Touko, but she decided she didn't care. "Touko," she said gently. Amon's fingers dug into Robin's shoulder painfully. "There's an extra seat at the table, if you want to sit down."
Touko's head snapped up at Robin's offer, her expression a mixture of shock, relief and shame. "Thank you, Robin," Touko said, her voice breaking on Robin's name. "But I'm not sure if I'm welcome to stay." She avoided looking at Amon, but it was obvious he was the reason for her reluctance. Then, bowing deeply, she choked out, "Before I am asked to leave, I wanted to say that I'm sorry… for everything."
All eyes had shifted to Amon. Slowly, he released his death grip on Robin's shoulder and sat down in the empty chair next to her. "Have a seat," he said frostily, as if his decision had been forced. "We still have questions to ask you."
Touko finally straightened from her bow and approached the table slowly, her eyes still downcast. She sat down between Sakaki and Dante, her hands clasped so tightly on her lap that her knuckles were white.
Amon shifted his attention to Trish. "Let's start at the beginning. How did the Factory capture you? From our experience, orbo doesn't have much effect on demons."
Her arms folded over her chest, Trish glanced at Touko before answering, "According to Touko, her father's been working on a new formula designed to kill demons. That's what they used on me, and believe me, it worked." She paused for effect before continuing, "Fortunately for me though, the effect was only temporary."
"What exactly are you saying?" Amon asked skeptically. "That you were dead?"
Shrugging, Trish answered, "It was my first time being dead, so it's not like I have a lot of experience to compare it with, but it certainly felt like death."
"Why would they take you back to this Factory place if they thought you were dead?" Dante asked.
"They wanted to run tests on her," Touko said softly, still looking at her hands.
"I woke up in some lab after that," Trish continued. "I was really disoriented at first, but I felt pretty good, all things considered. Then, when they finally noticed I wasn't as dead as they thought I was, they tried using the orbo on me again. It felt… unbelievable… ridiculously good. I felt stronger than I've ever felt before—like I could take on the world without breaking a sweat."
"And Beatrice just experienced the same feeling," Robin commented dejectedly.
"Zaizen used the new orbo on Beatrice," Amon concluded.
"He said he was going to kill her." Touko's voice was faint, and her shoulders hunched as she spoke, as if she regretted saying the words aloud.
"But this wonder orbo will do the opposite," Trish said with a sigh. "It will make her wildly, crazy powerful."
"But wait," Sakaki countered, "you just got a dose of the stuff too. You should be just as leveled-up as she is, right?"
"Beatrice was powerful to start with," Trish replied. "I'm no weakling, but I couldn't match her power before."
"And now she has access to the source," Dante pointed out. "You should have stuffed some extra miracle jelly in your pockets on your way out, Trish."
Trish rolled her eyes. "I was a little more concerned with getting the hell out of there in one piece so I could warn all of you. Besides, who knows what prolonged exposure to the stuff would do?"
"I don't know, but you could have a least brought back a little to share," Dante retorted.
"I didn't know what kind of effect the orbo would have on a half-demon; I was kind of hoping Beatrice would just stay dead. I wasn't about to test it on you without knowing."
"Easy to say that now."
Shaking her head at Dante, Trish said with a smirk, "You just can't stand the thought that I might be more powerful than you, can you?" Dante scoffed in response. "Don't worry," Trish added suggestively. "I'll let you lick my clothes off later if you're a good boy." Robin found herself blushing, a mental image drawing itself in her mind, provoked by the emotions emanating from Dante.
Putting a stop to their banter with an edge of annoyance in his voice, Amon said, "If the condition that felt like death was only temporary, perhaps the enhanced powers are also temporary."
"I have no idea," Trish admitted.
"And we don't have any way to test it," Dante added.
"The new orbo is an unpredictable variable," Amon mused. "We know too little about it to be of much use. At this point, I don't know how our plans could be improved by taking it into account." He paused, focusing on Touko out of the corner of his eyes, his lips pursed. "Unless you have more concrete information to add, Touko."
Looking up at him uncertainly, Touko answered slowly, "My father didn't share anything important with me. I only know what I know because I overheard a few telephone conversations."
Amon didn't blink as he glared at her coldly. "Why were you so eager to leave the Factory? You were safe there… from Beatrice." His pause implied that Beatrice wasn't the only one who was a danger to Touko, and Robin frowned at his blatant threat.
Touko swallowed. "I hated it there. He said he brought me there to keep me safe, but I felt more like a prisoner in that place. And… I thought he was being foolish." She looked away, her expression sad. "He puts too much confidence in orbo." Robin still hadn't completely wrapped her mind around Touko's relation to Zaizen, but the way Touko was talking about him now made Robin realize that Touko was worried for Zaizen's safety. It was a perfectly understandable emotion, she supposed. Zaizen, though he was a monster in Robin's eyes, was still Touko's father, and no matter what their personal differences were, they still shared that bond.
"Weren't you concerned about Beatrice?" Doujima asked, her voice sharp. "She did control you before, didn't she?"
"Of course I was concerned," Touko answered quickly. "But I don't think Beatrice has a reason to use me now."
"And why is that?" Amon's tone was frigid, and Robin shivered at the raw emotion he was repressing from his voice. She didn't like the way Amon was purposely pouring salt in Touko's wounds.
"I don't think you need me to explain, Amon," Touko said with a hint of resentment. Apparently she still had a little pride left, even after everything that had happened.
"I still don't understand why you wanted to leave the Factory so badly that you were willing to take such risk," Doujima said accusatorily.
Touko glanced at her and took a deep breath before answering. "I was afraid my father would find a way to use me if I stayed." A flood of empathy washed over Robin. She had seen Zaizen at his worst, but she had hoped that Touko had not. If Touko had expected her father to use her, then she likely knew exactly what he was capable of doing. Touko continued slowly, "I took the risk because I didn't want to be used by him any more than by Beatrice."
"Did he have plans to use you?" Amon demanded.
"Not that he shared with me."
"Then why did you think he would use you?"
"Do you even need to ask that question, Amon? Anyone who knows my father knows that he will use anyone if they give him the chance." Touko's submissive, apologetic behavior was quickly turning into defensive anger. Though Robin knew Amon would see Touko's reaction as dubious, she still didn't see anything wrong with it. Amon was ruthlessly interrogating her, and that was enough to get anyone's back up, even when they didn't have a history with him.
"I have a hard time believing you would risk his anger by attempting escape because of nothing more than a passing concern that he might use you." Amon's anger was slipping past his detached mask.
"Then don't believe it, but I have no other explanation to give you." Touko looked very much like she wanted to cry, but was holding back the urge with pure force of will.
"Listen," Trish interrupted suddenly, "anyone with half a brain could understand why she'd want to escape that place. Have any of you ever even been there?"
"No," Amon answered reluctantly.
"Then don't judge," Trish snapped.
"It's all right," Touko said quietly, suddenly submissive again. "He has every right to judge me." Raising her wrists in front of her, palm up, she said, "If you are so concerned that I came here on a mission from Beatrice, then tie me up until this is over. Lock me in a cage and throw away the key. I won't complain. I have no desire to be used again."
An uncomfortable silence fell, and Robin searched for something to say. She wanted to speak up, wanted to somehow ease the tension and keep Amon from making the decision she could feel him considering. But she didn't have the words to do any of those things. Glancing helplessly at her companions, she was relieved to find pity on most of their faces. Even Doujima, who had never really gotten along with Touko, seemed to feel sorry for her. Amon was the only one whose expression hadn't changed. "There are holding cells at the STN-J—" he began, but was quickly interrupted by a cacophony of voices all speaking at the same time.
"This is ridiculous!"
"We couldn't take her there."
"Geez, you really are an unreasonable asshole."
"What good would that do?"
"I'm not backing down on this," Amon said firmly, silencing the others as he looked slowly around the room at each of them in turn. "We only have a few hours left before this mess is over, and however it turns out she will be safer at the STN-J. Whether or not we believe her claims of innocence is irrelevant. If she is willing to give up her freedom until this is over, I don't see the point of taking the risk and letting her go free."
"Amon," Robin said, finally speaking up. "I don't think—"
But Amon wouldn't even let her finish. "No, Robin. My decision is made." But the decision isn't yours alone, she thought angrily.
"What about the Director?" Sakaki asked. "If we take her to the office, he'll find out. He'll probably think we kidnapped her from the Factory or something."
Amon's eyes narrowed. "The Director has his hands full at the moment. We will deal with the consequences, whatever they may be, after this is over." Amon rose to his feet with a sense of finality. "I'm heading back to the office now to go over the plan with Michael and Karasuma. I'll see all of you at the meeting point in an hour."
"What about Touko?" Robin asked, already expecting his answer.
Amon's eyes had a ferocity in them that made Robin nervous; she had a sickening premonition that he might take out some of his emotional turmoil on Touko. "I'm taking her with me."
"Alone?" Dante asked, and Robin could feel his temper flaring. Standing up as well, he said, "No way in hell. If you're so concerned about the possible danger she presents, then don't you think you should have backup?" Robin could tell from his emotional undertone that Dante was also worried about more than Amon's safety.
"Fine," Amon bit off, glaring at Dante in annoyance. Amon circled the table to Touko's seat and pulled her to her feet with a firm grip on her arm. Touko did not react, an expression of resignation on her face.
Dante scowled at Amon's back before moving to follow them, pausing when Robin caught his sleeve. "Dante," she murmured, but she didn't even have to voice her worry.
"I'll make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." Dante smiled, patting her gently on the head.
Robin watched them leave, relieved that Dante had forced his company on Amon so she wouldn't have to; Amon was teetering at the edge of his control right now, and he needed someone to keep him in check before he did something he would regret. Touko was far too easy a target for Amon's anger at the moment, and Robin suspected Touko would simply let him take his frustration out on her because of her guilt. But no one deserved Amon's verbal and emotional abuse—no one except perhaps Zaizen. She thought Dante could probably deflect most of Amon's anger—or at least redirect it—well enough to shield Touko, and that thought eased her mind. At least she didn't have to worry for his safety either.
Trish sighed deeply when they were gone. "So, who wants to go weapons shopping with me again?"
"Ooo! Pick me!" Sakaki cried.
"Eager to do some research?" Doujima asked him skeptically.
"I don't start a new game when I'm still addicted to the old one," Sakaki reassured her.
"Then go. Robin and I will hold down the fort." Turning to look at Robin when they were alone, Doujima said conspiratorially, "You look like you could use some chocolate, Robin. Or maybe something a little stronger."
"I'm fine, Doujima," Robin said wearily. The growing physical distance between her and Amon and Dante was relieving the emotional onslaught somewhat, but the exhaustion left in its wake was substantial.
Doujima was unconvinced. "Hmm… Have you ever heard of a chocolate martini, Robin?"
----------
The car barreled down the highway, silent as a morgue and probably colder.
Dante was sprawled comfortably in the backseat, keeping an eye on the driver as much as the other passenger. Amon's face was set like granite and Touko's expression was weary acceptance, but they were both tense. The air was heavy with unspoken feelings—half of which Dante was attempting to avoid experiencing directly—and he had a nearly uncontrollable urge to say or do something incredibly inappropriate simply to change the dynamic. He could still feel Robin's worry distantly and knew she was counting on him to mediate between Amon's anger and Touko's guilt, but unfortunately, he didn't have a clue how to accomplish such a thing. Emotional situations had never been his strength, and Amon's emotions were less predictable than most.
Touko shifted in her seat, glancing at Amon furtively. Dante had to admit he felt sorry for the woman. He knew little about her, but from what little he did know, she had the unhappy misfortune of not only falling for an asshole like Amon, but also managing to royally piss him off. Frankly, Dante had a difficult time understanding what anyone would see in Amon romantically, but it was obvious Touko had issues of her own, her relationship with Amon notwithstanding.
The urge to say something tactless was growing in strength with every passing moment of silence, and finally Dante decided to give in to the impulse. He knew his methods of dealing with a sulky Amon were juvenile compared to Robin's, but he knew of no other way to get the man's attention. "So," Dante said, rolling the word around his tongue. "How'd you two hook up, anyway?" The tension in the car magnified to a place hovering just over the breaking point. Dante smiled, knowing his amusement was only provoking Amon further. Amon shot him a look in the rear view mirror that was murderous. Dante's grin widened. "No, really. I'm curious. What was it? Company Christmas party? Blind date? Mutual friends?"
"If you're that eager to die," Amon said crisply, "you could have saved yourself the pain and let Beatrice kill you gently."
"Oh, sorry. Was that too personal? I guess I just feel like we've gotten so close over the last few hours that I can ask you anything. I mean, I really feel like we're forming a bond. You know what I mean, buddy? You don't mind if I call you that, do you? Buddy?"
Amon didn't respond this time, but Dante could feel the fury rolling off of him in waves. Dante glanced at Touko who seemed stunned, her eyes wide as she looked at Amon. Dante could only assume he'd lost his mind. He had no idea what Amon would do if he was pushed beyond the edge of his restraint, but he imagined it would be unpleasant. And yet, he couldn't shut his mouth. Leaning forward in his seat, Dante looked up at Touko with a smile. "Can you feel it?"
Touko looked terrified. "Feel what?"
"The love in this car." The car squealed around a sharp corner and Dante had to grip the back of the seats in front of him to keep his balance. "Woah. Watch it there, buddy." Patting Amon good naturedly on the shoulder, Dante added, "Driving like that isn't safe."
Amon didn't say a word, glowering at the road ahead furiously. Dante's instincts were screaming danger with a capital "d," but a half-formed plan was coalescing in the back of his mind, and he decided it was worth a shot since it was the only one he had at the moment. "I'm not in the way here, am I?" he asked with feigned concern. "I mean, I know there's some personal history between the two of you, and I don't know how you feel about ménage a trios, but—"
The car squealed around another corner and into the underground garage below the STN-J. Dante braced himself to keep from flying through the windshield when Amon slammed on the brakes.
"Get out," Amon barked, nearly shaking with anger.
"Whatever you say, buddy."
Dante climbed out of the car nonchalantly, expecting the violence long before it happened. Amon grabbed the front of his jacket and shoved him back against the brick wall, glaring at him fiercely from a few inches away. Dante returned the livid expression with an unconcerned smirk. He glanced at Touko out of the corner of his eye; she was hovering on the other side of the car, watching them in horror. "What are you waiting for?" Dante whispered, the rest of his plan suddenly crystallizing in his mind. "Go ahead. Hit me."
"Why are you doing this?" Amon hissed.
Dante chuckled. Good question. Unfortunately, I have a really stupid answer. "Come on. You know this has been coming since the moment we met. So let's get it over with. Hit me."
Amon's anger exploded in Dante's mind, paralyzing him for a moment. Then, Amon threw the first punch; he saw it coming and it took effort to repress his instinct to dodge, but repress it he did, taking the hit directly in the jaw. Another punch hit his gut and he found himself laughing. What a stupid idea that was. Amon's rage took on a mindless edge and Dante took Amon's blows silently then, wondering when exactly he had decided to become Amon's punching bag. It was so far out of his character that he knew intuitively he wouldn't have let it happen if he hadn't let Robin worries get under his skin. Her penchant for self-sacrifice was starting to rub off on him, and that was one habit he had never dreamed he might pick up.
"Stop!" Touko cried frantically. "Amon! Stop it!"
Dante saw her approaching and cursed. He should have seen that coming. She snatched at Amon's coat to pull him away, but Amon reacted instinctively by shoving her back hard. She skidded against the pavement when she fell, and Dante determined this game had gone on long enough. He blocked Amon's next attack effortlessly and then landed a couple punches of his own, causing Amon to stumble backwards. He hadn't been gentle, but he hoped he had held back enough to keep from injuring Amon too badly; Dante's strength was enhanced by his demon ancestry, a fact he had to constantly keep in mind when dealing with normal humans. Luckily, the shock of Dante's retaliation seemed to be enough to knock Amon back to his senses because Dante could feel Amon's temper finally beginning to cool.
In the end, Dante's plan had backfired somewhat, but at least it had allowed Amon to get most of his aggression out of his system before he took it out on Touko—or anyone else. Wiping blood off his chin, Dante demanded, "Are we all better now?" Amon didn't answer, still doubled over and panting for breath, his face hidden by dark waves of hair. Dante reached out a hand to help Touko stand up. She accepted it with only a little hesitation, looking at him wordlessly when she was on her feet, her mouth parted and questions clouding her eyes. "You okay?" he asked.
"I… think so." She was looking at him as if she thought he was insane, which he probably was.
Amon straightened finally, and Dante was relieved to see his jaw was still intact, though his lower lip was covered in blood. Amon's emotions were too muddled for Dante to make much sense of them, but at least they no longer had anything to do with Touko. He might not have stopped Amon from doing something stupid, as he had promised Robin he would do, but he had managed to keep him from doing something stupid to the wrong person. "Come on," Dante said, putting an arm around Touko's shoulders and snagging Amon's upper arm firmly as he led them toward the elevator. "Let's go."
Their ride up the elevator was as silent as their ride in the car had started out, but the tension had eased considerably. Progress had been made. The elevator came to a stop at the third floor and the door opened on a bland hallway lined with sturdy looking doors. Amon marched down the hallway without looking back, and Dante motioned Touko ahead of him as they followed. Coming to a stop halfway down the hall, Amon turned to a door and pulled open a keypad next to it. He punched in a code and the door clicked.
Amon turned to look at them as he pulled open the door slowly, revealing a small grey cube of a room. "This is it," he said coldly, gesturing for Touko to enter. Dante leaned back against the wall across from the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He had no intention of interfering any further.
Touko glanced briefly at Dante before approaching the entrance to the room. Pausing at the door, she looked up at Amon, her expression indescribably sad. "Amon… I just wanted to say again that I never meant to hurt you or Robin." She looked down as she added, "I'm so sorry."
"I will give Michael the access code to the door in case we fail our mission tonight and don't return," Amon said without even acknowledging her apology.
She nodded in response, sighing as she sat down on the bench inside the room. "I understand."
Amon swung the door closed without another word, punching more numbers into the keypad until the door clicked again. Turning around slowly, he looked up at Dante with a mess of emotion crawling across his face. "Why did you do that?" he demanded softly. Dante knew immediately he was talking about the fight.
Dante shrugged. "Hell if I know. It just felt right."
"It felt right to let me beat you up?"
"Hey, I was asking for it."
"Why?" Amon's eyes were focused icily on Dante.
Dante sighed, shaking his head. "You were going to explode at some point, and I would have much rather had you explode on me than the woman in that cell."
Dante felt Amon's flash of pain at his words. "I wouldn't have—"
Dante pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and started walking down the hallway, "I didn't want to take the chance." He smirked. "Besides, it gave me a reason to hit you back. And that felt damn good."
"You were never concerned that Touko would be a threat, were you?" Amon observed, his shoes clicking on the polished floor as he followed Dante toward the elevator.
"Not a bit."
"You came along as backup for her, not me."
"Right again." Dante stepped onto the elevator, turning back to look at Amon. "Be honest. Do you really think she's still being controlled by Beatrice?"
"I don't know." Amon looked out through the glass wall pensively as the elevator made its way toward the fifth floor. "But I am not willing to risk Robin's safety to find out."
----------
Shifting in his chair, Michael grimaced as his movement aggravated one of his bruises. It was difficult to move at all without causing himself pain, but he was starting to get used to it.
"Are you doing okay, Michael?" Karasuma asked, and Michael rolled his eyes. Ever since she had shown up at the office, she had been hovering over him like a mother hen. He appreciated her concern, but he didn't need a nurse.
"I'm fine," he snapped, the edge in his voice sharper than he had intended. She had managed to ignore his bad temper so far, but he wondered how much more she would take before she snapped back at him. He hoped she just stopped talking to him before they reached that point, because he honestly didn't think he could control his tone.
"How's it coming with the computer?"
"I'm almost done," he answered, accessing the code for the program he had just finished installing on Amon's computer and modifying it slightly. He had relocated to Amon's desk this morning; he needed a new computer, after all, and Amon's computer was just sitting there unused. Of course, Karasuma's computer was the only other one actually in use at the moment, but Michael found a strange satisfaction in commandeering Amon's computer. The first thing he had done was search Amon's files for anything interesting, but Amon was as secretive in his computer usage as he was in conversation, it seemed. Still, he just knew he was bound to come across something out of the ordinary eventually.
"I'm going to get some coffee," Karasuma announced, pausing next to his desk with her empty cup in hand. "Do you need anything?"
"I could use some more painkillers," Michael said without looking up at her, absently scratching at the edge of the bandage on his arm. He glanced down at it, annoyed—not for the first time—with the pink ribbon Doujima had used to tie it off.
"Okay," she replied, motherly concern gushing through her voice. Michael cringed. "I'll be right back."
Michael watched her cross the room, frowning at her arm sling. They were a couple of sad cases, to be sure. "Oh, and Karasuma-san," he said, feeling a little guilty for the way she was waiting on him when she was injured as well. "Could you grab me a Blendy while you're in there?"
"Sure."
Returning his attention to the computer, Michael entered a few more lines of code into the program before closing it and leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He instantly regretted his action as he remembered a few other bruises on his back he had forgotten until that moment. Sighing in self-pity, Michael wondered if there was any place left on his body that wasn't bruised or burnt. He was religiously avoiding thinking about any of the emotional complications involved with his injuries; he just wanted to live in denial for a little longer. The angst could wait. His eyes closing involuntarily, he realized just how tired he really was and slumped in his chair.
"Maybe you should lay down for awhile, Michael," Karasuma suggested quietly.
He opened his eyes to find her standing next to his desk. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he answered quickly, "No, I'm fine. Thanks, Karasuma-san."
She placed a frosty plastic bottle on his desk along with a couple red and yellow pills. "When did you start drinking these?" she asked, gesturing to the cold coffee and milk drink.
"Since Doujima left one in the refrigerator." Twisting open the cap on the coffee drink and popping the pills in his mouth, Michael swallowed the medicine quickly. He hated taking pills with a passion, but today the annoyance was worth it. Looking up at her and feeling mildly guilty for the way he had been treating her since she showed up, he asked, "How is your arm feeling?"
Karasuma smiled, though the expression seemed forced. "Better."
"Maybe Amon will let you go on the hunt tonight, after all."
Shaking her head, Karasuma returned to her desk with her steaming cup of coffee. "I don't think so. I hate being left behind like a wounded bird, but it can't be helped." She took a sip of her coffee before adding, "I wouldn't be much help to them tonight." Michael nodded silently, wondering if he would be any more help tonight than she could be, but, not liking where his thoughts were taking him, he quickly resolved not to think about it any further.
Looking back at his new computer, he decided it was as ready as it was going to be for the hunt. Searching for the program he had installed and double clicking on the icon, he slid his headphones into his ears and smiled as the outdated graphics and synthesized music of his favorite game filled the screen. It was an old game—and a long way from being the best game ever made—but he had an attachment to it. His attachment probably had something to do with the fact that it was the last game he had played on the outside—before Zaizen had brought him into the STN-J on a leash.
Glancing at Karasuma over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't watching, he brought up the character selection screen. He scrolled through his saved characters and decided to go with "WiTcHkilla," a slender woman with an uncanny resemblance to Robin. He had made some major modifications to the skins to create one that looked anything like her, but he was rather proud of the final result. She was wearing a black halter top and pants similar to the uniform Robin had worn when she and Doujima worked undercover at Harry's, and he knew that if Amon ever saw her on his computer, Michael would have more than bruises to worry about. That was why he had gone to the trouble of creating a web of password protections for the game in case Amon ever tried to regain possession of his computer.
Michael switched view modes so that only the character's hand and gun would be visible and then loaded a saved game. He scrolled through his artillery and settled on the flak gun; he felt like doing as much damage as possible. He heard a series of soft, alien grunts on his right so he crept up to the corner of a crate and strafed around it, showering the alien on the other side with shrapnel. Picking up a health pack as he trotted down the corridor, he headed toward the small pool he knew was just outside the doors. Michael heard the sound of gunfire behind him and spun his character around just in time to dodge a rocket. The alien behind him fired its rocket launcher again and Michael rolled behind another crate. Switching to his razor jack gun, he waited for another rocket to whiz by before he strafed out into the open and fired a series of razors at the alien's neck. The third spinning razor hit the alien perfectly, severing its head from its body. It dropped the rocket launcher to the ground and felt around for its missing head for a moment before falling to its knees and slumping over.
Grinning, Michael leaned back in his chair again, but his grin quickly turned into a grimace as he remembered the aches and pains he had only just managed to forget. Sitting up straight again, he heard the sound of a waterfall beckoning him as his character crept around a cliff. The waterfall was crashing into the pool he had been looking for. He knew there was an underwater entrance in the pool that would lead to the temple marking the next level, but first, he needed to kill all the lizard people lurking in the water. He dove into the pool and switched to the harpoon gun. A little saddened by the fact that he couldn't switch views to watch the Robin-look-alike swim through the water, Michael began searching the pond for the elusive lizard people.
A splash and the sluggish sound of darts being fired underwater made Michael look above him. He targeted the lizard and fired off a few shots, swimming past the blood in the water to get a better view. The underwater entrance was in sight, and not a minute too late because his character was quickly running out of air. He swam directly for the entrance, dodging fire from another lizard. He was at the opening and crawling into the open cave inside when Karasuma's voice startled him.
"Oh my god," she cried in alarm, and his first instinct was that she had caught him playing the game and been disgusted by it. But then he looked up to see Amon and Dante walking through the door, both of them looking as if they had just come from a fight. Their hair was tousled and their clothes rumpled and dirty. Blood was drying on Amon's lower lip and a Dante was bleeding from a cut across his cheekbone. "What happened to the two of you?" Karasuma demanded.
Michael immediately minimized his game, pulling out his earphones so he could hear every word. His fear quickly faded though when he noticed that neither of them seemed particularly worried.
Dante shrugged. "We decided to play gladiator in the basement. We're over it now."
Raising an eyebrow, Karasuma opened her mouth to respond but closed it a few moments without saying a word.
Amon shot Dante a glare, but then said, "We came here to brief you both on the hunt tonight, but a lot has happened since you left Harry's, Karasuma. First and foremost of which being that we brought Touko here with us. She's in a holding cell on the third floor."
Karasuma's eyes widened and Michael panicked for a moment, pulling up the building logs. Out of curiosity, he brought up the video recordings from the basement first and had to bite his lip to keep from reacting to the footage of Amon punching Dante in the gut. "I assume you want me to take care of the recordings," Michael said, struggling to keep his voice even as he continued watching the footage.
Michael felt Amon's eyes on him and glanced up, surprised to see the anguished expression on the dark hunter's features. "Yes, Michael," he said finally, looking away. "I didn't see any cars other than yours in the basement," he continued, turning his attention to Karasuma. "Am I right to assume everyone else has gone home for the day?"
"Yes," Karasuma answered, her voice a little weak. "The Chief and Hattori left about an hour ago. We haven't seen the Director all day."
Michael had moved on to the footage on the third floor, cringing when he saw Touko walking off the elevator. Fast forwarding to the point where Amon closed the cell door behind him, Michael breathed a sigh of relief. The door had not opened since.
"That's the other thing I need to talk to you about," Amon said. "Zaizen has decided to attack Beatrice head on with a new, experimental kind of orbo."
"What?" Karasuma gasped. "That's insane. Do you think it will work?"
"It's already failed."
Michael looked up again, picking up on the unsaid implications of Amon's words. Could he even dare to hope that Zaizen was dead? "Is he…?" Michael began, unable to even say the word.
Amon's gaze shifted to him again, but his frown had deepened. Michael's shoulders slumped. "We don't know."
"When you say it failed," Karasuma said slowly, "I get the impression there's more to it."
"There is," Dante said sourly, perching on the edge of Karasuma's desk, his arms crossed over his chest. "If you thought she was a tough bitch before, wait till you see her on steroids."
"From what we can tell," Amon explained, "the orbo has the short term effect of incapacitating the demon, but it has the long term effect of strengthening the demon's powers incalculably."
Michael glanced at the game minimized in the task bar of his computer, feeling frustrated. The odds had just shifted in Beatrice's favor again, and he was still just as useless.
----------
"What fools," Beatrice exclaimed with a giggle. "What glorious fools." She surveyed the smoldering piles of embers marking where every wonderful fool who had stood before her power had burnt to a crisp. A misshapen shard of metal poked out of one of the piles near her and she nudged it with her foot, recognizing it as the distorted remains of a gun. A smile tugged at her lips. She didn't understand the magnificent substance they had tried to use to kill her, but whatever it was left her with the most wonderful afterglow. She felt stronger than she had in ages. Her master would be very pleased, indeed.
"My lady!" one of her servants called. "We found one of them trying to escape."
"Oh?" She turned to look at the man. His grey hair was disheveled and his distinguished features were twisted with panic.
"No!" the man cried. "We killed you! This can't be—"
Beatrice smiled. "Another sacrifice for the master. Tie him up and cage him with the others until we're ready."
"You bitch!" the man screamed. "You won't get away with this. You're a perversion of nature. You don't deserve even to be alive! You, and all the witches, you---"
"And gag him, would you?" Beatrice interrupted. "He talks too much."
It all started out with sweaty hands. Please forgive me… It was a random thing and I almost just took it out because it's a little goofy, but I couldn't bring myself to delete it for some reason. One of my friends actually told me about the sweaty hands evolution thing, and I really don't buy it, but I thought it was an interesting thought anyway. So, Touko's scene was my first attempt to get to the confrontation scene. Obviously it failed—but I like the bond she formed with Trish (and now Trish has the info on Amon).
The second attempt to write the confrontation scene was Doujima's hormonal scene. Obviously, it failed. (Sakaki's game reference of the day: Katamari Damacy. If you have a PS2 and haven't picked up this game, you should. It's really cheap and a lot of fun. It involves rolling a sticky ball around and picking up various objects. Eventually, if you get the ball big enough, you can roll up people and they scream. It's awesome. Truly bizarre, but awesome. And it has great music too.) Yeah, I really enjoyed this scene because… well… Dante's one hot mofo. Sadly, he knows it too.
Attempt number three actually worked (I think), especially because it allowed me to show Amon's feelings as well as Robin's. I think part of the reason it ended up being so hard to write was because a) it's been so long since I've written this much on this story and b) it's been even longer since Touko's interacted with any of the other characters. Hopefully I didn't make the emotional mood swings too extreme, but I think Amon's reaction is believable. All hail the return of Amon the Ass (he never stays away for long).
Then we have the Amon-Dante smackdown. Yeah. Totally didn't see it coming, but when you think about it, don't you think it's about damn time those two actually duked it out? Of course, I think I made Dante a little too saintly (though he does acknowledge how out of character his actions are—coughcoughwritercopoutcoughcough). Highlander fans out there might notice a resemblance to Methos in Dante's sarcasm. I can't help thinking of the episode from the last season of Highlander when Methos finds out Joe has a daughter and keeps calling him dad. He also refers to him as "buddy" which is probably much funnier because he has a British accent. Anyway, hope Amon didn't come across as a big fat jerk. He is under a lot of stress, you know…
Last, but not least, the promised Michael scene. I'm starting to feel really sorry for poor lonely, abused Michael. That's why I let him play my video game. Yeah, so the first game I ever played on the PC was Unreal Tournament. It came free with my super awesome Voodoo3 video card and I was instantly addicted. I still get nostalgic for that game occasionally because it helped me through some hard times with stupid roommates and such. I sort of modified it for the story, but in my heart, Unreal was the game I was thinking of. And yes, you really can decapitate aliens with the razor jack. Sorry for all the violence… Oh, and as for the Blendy… You might recall my addiction to Frappuccinos? Well, I found a decent equivalent in Japan called a "Blendy." Mmmmm…
Oh, and then one last scene… Beatrice is going to use Zaizen as a human sacrifice. Yay!
Well, that's it for now, kids. I hope I managed to respond to everyone's review! Don't know if I'll get the next chapter posted in a week like I did this time. I don't want to burn myself out again and I'm going to have a busy week this week, so it might be a bit longer. I promise I won't take too long, though.
