Disclaimer: Only Kieran is mine.
Author's Note: Sorry it's been a while since the last chapter, my imagination hasn't been co-operating. Please read and review, since reviews make me a better writer (well, that's the theory).
"italics" telepathy.
Co-operation is a strange thing. People often underestimate it, considering it the preserve of kid's films where the characters get taught an Important Lesson. When it comes to survival against the odds the usual image in people's minds is the lone survivor who overcame all obstacles, and, it is often implied, all the easier for the lack of anyone 'weighing them down'. Of course the reality is somewhat different, particularly in a world where pretty much everything wants to kill you. There are some who make it on their own (or at least think they do. Companion Cubes and Empathic Weapons are less obvious partners, but partners they often are), but for the most part avoiding getting into the situation where the only help left is the kashira of a zanpakutō requires co-operation with others. Given the 'anything goes' nature of the post-Event world, these partnerships are strange and myriad indeed. Enemies become allies, former villains turn on their heel, and the most improbable of friendships are forged under the most unlikely of circumstances.
In a colony somewhere under the Red Sky, a young girl makes her way along the pavement. Her story is tragic but altogether too common in the New World. Her family was wiped out by the Event and the horrors that it created and she was taken in by a small colony, only for it to fall apart under attack. She travelled to this colony with the other survivors, the group being attacked more then once on the journey. Upon arrival she was sent straight to what passed for a hospital and was only recently released due to a shortage of beds. Why she is hospital is all too clear since the upper part of her face is wrapped in gauze which covers the damage from Jack O'Lantern inflicted acid burns. But despite this, she moves with surprising ease, deftly dodging other pedestrians, although her posture is oddly upright and rigid to avoid dislodging the reason she can do so.
On her head, a one year old longhaired miniature dachshund balances precariously, its rear occupying the hood of the girl's coat while its front paws do their best to keep their purchase on her hair. Oddly intelligent brown eyes take in everything going on around them. To the majority of passers-by the pair are silent but the few that are capable of picking up telepathy are aware of something rather different.
"Watch out Mya, spiky haired blond guy with giant key thing. Step to the left."
The girl side-steps the boy in her path.
"Road coming up. Stop….. now."
The girl paused at the kerb.
"There's a fair bit of traffic. Two bikes, a couple of motor bikes doing deliveries, a bus that's heading for the gates."
"I don't really need a running commentary Oscar, just directions."
Oscar mentally huffed.
"But then you miss out on all the details and where's the fun in that. Okay, you can cross the road now."
Oscar is a fairly unusual specimen. While intelligent, talking dogs are fairly common thanks to countless owners who saw their pets as people in fur coats rather then animals, telepathic dogs are altogether rarer. In Oscar's case the ability came about thanks to his previous owner possessing a tape of "A Boy and His Dog" which Oscar had been using as a pillow when the Event occurred. Thankfully, while he gained the titular dogs telepathy and intelligence, the friendly, happy go lucky dachshund was otherwise unaffected by the rather dark film. His owner taken over by his costume, Oscar had to make his own way in the world, getting an injured leg in the process, before meeting Mya shortly after she was blinded. A dog who couldn't run and a girl who couldn't see, it must've been fate.
"Careful, there's a…"
Mya tripped over the small furry animal that had suddenly appeared in her path, narrowly avoiding sending Oscar flying in the process.
"…cabbit."
The system still wasn't quite perfect.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the north of England…
"You've got us lost haven't you?"
"We're not lost. We're still going in the right direction, just not on the route I had planned."
"In other words, we're lost."
Kieran flipped the white haired male the two finger salute.
"That the best you can do?"
"Look, if it bothers you so much, why don't you drive? Oh that's right, you can't, 'cause while you've got a new set of memories and a very awesome arm, you're still mysteriously incompatible with motor vehicles."
Nero considered whacking him upside the head, then remembered that Kieran was out of range of his left arm and whacking him with the right was probably a bad idea. Plus they'd only been travelling for an hour so the low-grade violence should probably be saved for later.
"I could still navigate."
"Err, there might be a slight problem there."
Nero looked at his pseudo- step-brother suspiciously.
"What problem?"
Kieran had the decency to look sheepish.
"Er, I'm not exactly sure which road we're on."
"How the hell did you manage that!"
"I think it was a combination of a lot of trampled road signs and having to take a detour because of that dead dinosaur. The wrecked overpass probably didn't help either."
"So we really are lost then."
"Not really. We're still going north and we'll probably find a sign sooner or later."
"Ah, the good old 'keep going until you hit something school of navigating'."
"It worked last time didn't it?"
"We crashed into a tree."
"That was because of the vampire cow."
"There's no such thing as vampire cows."
"Says the half-devil."
"Part-devil, I'm less then half. And what does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm not sure, but right now I'm hoping it'll help us deal with that guy."
Nero looked away from Kieran and saw what was in the road.
"Oh great."
"At least it isn't a demon."
"Now you've jinxed it."
Like most of England, the county of Yorkshire has its share of folklore. One of the figures from it is Jack-In-Irons, an immense, ferocious looking giant wearing chains and human heads that carried a spiked club and haunted lonely roads. As was the case with pretty much everything else in folklore, after the Event, Jack became very real indeed. Most people encountering him would be terrified and try to flee, but most people weren't Nero.
"Stop the van."
Kieran hit the breaks and reached for his shot gun.
"Going to clear the road?"
"I am. You're staying here."
"Nero..."
"Kieran, stay in the van."
The scarlet headed teenager looked like he was about to protest further but relented.
"Fine. Yell if you need me."
Nero nodded before hopping out of the van and walking towards the giant.
"Hey ugly, you're in my way."
Jack looked down to regard the much smaller white haired figure with an expression usually reserved for particularly irritating insects, before raising his club and bringing it down to crush the cocky little pest.
Only for club to be stopped less then a meter from impact. Underneath it, looking downright casual, was Nero, demonic right arm blocking the club with a distinct lack of effort. Then, while the giant was still working out what had happened, he threw the club upwards and launched himself at his opponent.
Inside the van, Kieran was on the edge of his seat, watching the fight and hoping that all the stories that Nero had told him about his past battles were true. When he blocked the club, Kieran's eyes widened his mouth quirking upwards in a smile. When Nero's sword connected with the giant's head, the smile turned into a full-blown grin. When Jack-In-Irons was unceremoniously thrown up into the air and briefly kept aloft with a hail of bullets he cheered, before being jostled by the impact of the giant hitting the tarmac.
"Nice one. Oh crap he's getting up, quick get him."
"Watch out 'Ro, he's taking a swipe at you."
"That has to have broken a few laws of physics."
"Isn't this thing dead yet?"
A successful blow by the giant sent Nero sprawling and had Kieran grabbing his gun and reaching for the lock on his door, stopped only by Nero getting up and hamstringing the giant in one leg with a blow from Red Queen. Kieran collapsed back in his seat with a gasp of relief but kept a tight grip on his shotgun.
Jack struggled to his feet and took another swipe at the pest that not only had the nerve to attack him but actually seemed to be winning. Said pest easily dodged the attack and retaliated with a flurry of sword slashed, followed by throwing Jack around like a ragdoll and slamming him into the ground. After about the third collision with terra firma, Jack tried to get up and collapsed.
In the van Kieran jumped up so fast that he hit his head on the ceiling.
"Jackpot!"
The proximity effect works in strange and mysterious ways.
After a few minutes passed without the giant moving, Nero tossed him off the road and jogged back to the van, where he found a grinning (and slightly bruised) Kieran.
"Is it dead?"
"I think so. If it's not it's going to be really pissed when it wakes up."
Kieran got the point and hit the accelerator.
"You okay? You got hit pretty hard out there."
"I've had a lot worse. Don't worry, I'll be okay."
"You'd better be."
The two drove on for several minutes before Kieran spotted something.
"Look, a road sign. The system works."
"Yeah, yeah. So how lost are we then?"
"Not at all. All the towns on it are on the route I had planned. We're back on track."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I've been going over that route every night for the past week, I've got it memorized. We're quite a bit behind schedule but we're back on track."
"Just try to stay on track from now on, okay."
"Don't worry; I know exactly where I'm going."
Nero groaned.
"You've just gone and jinxed it."
Kieran winced.
"I did, didn't I? Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it now. We'll just have to keep going and keep our fingers crossed."
The van lumbered on.
A/N: A/N: Not very long I know, but I thought it best to stop before it degraded into waffle. As is the case with the story that originally created this verse, this fic is an exercise in interactive storytelling. There's still a while to go until they get where they going and even when they do it won't be the end of the road. Lots of places to go and people to meet and I'd like to include characters that people actually want to see. Anime or western, it doesn't matter, the more variety the better.
Translation:
Kashira; the katana equivalent of a pommel, ie the bit that get tapped against ghosts' foreheads when they get konso-ed.