Day 22, Clown: Izzy OC is rescued by an unknown Cross.
All the good things belong to MonolithSoft and their character creator menu.
The Milsaadi assassins had dropped out of a clear blue sky. Actually, the sky was clouded, but it wasn't currently raining brimstone, so that made it a clear day in Cauldros. The real problem was that they cut the team off from the skells, the bright and shiny skells that were supposed to keep their puny Curator butts safe.
Izzy was going die because of a story he'd heard in a bar on a Saturday night. He wouldn't be the first BLADE that got in a bad situation because of chit chat in the Repenta, but he was probably the only guy that would die due to a culinary argument.
He'd been eavesdropping on Doug's retelling of his latest mission. Nothing big, but there had been an interesting sidebar on living off the land. Talk of food was what made Izzy interested. Izzy wasn't one to idolize the big Harrier like a lot of the rest of the division. Doug's head looked too much like a bullet. Until he smiled, that is, and then Izzy understood the draw. So Izzy had been listening as Doug had gone on about the best way to cook crab. Not Izzy's concern, because he didn't eat suid and he didn't eat forfex, just on general principles. Eventually someone would decide, and then someone else would argue, and in a few centuries there would be agreement for the most part. Until then, Izzy didn't order the suid spareribs. For whatever reason he was still paying attention.
But Izzy's drinking partner was upset, because forfex had no business being in lava caves. This meant something to a Curator, probably as much as rocks meant to Izzy when he was on his monthly stint being a Prospector, but maybe they shouldn't have started a fight. No one threw hands, but words flew around and reputations were staked, and that meant that Izzy was now facing a squadron of Milsaadi with three gawking Curators as backup.
This was fine. Izzy was just as much Harrier as Prospector, and he had the skills to protect his team, even if they were trying to sort their beam swords from their flashlights. He had dual swords, solid ones that hit, and a sniper rifle that was part elephant gun, although that wasn't much use against Milsaadi that zipped around on wires. Wished he'd had a Gatling, paint the air with that. Wished he was still in his skell, but he'd had an urge to examine some crystals he saw by the inner pool. Wished he'd ducked sooner, because that last swing from a crooked Ganglion blade had been too close.
Mind you, the Milsaadi had probably been wishing something before Izzy responded with a whirling counter attack, but no one would ever know, because Izzy hadn't missed.
Something crunched the ground beside Izzy, landing deep into the black lava soil. Another BLADE, in full heavy Sakuraba armor, and with a sword like a baseball bat. Flat, brutal, and looking like an angel in Izzy's eyes. Together they could do this.
It wasn't short work, but it got done. The Curators huddled for a moment at the end of the battle, then immediately started cooing over a passing scirpo. Izzy would have snorted, but there were still those crystals to admire, so who was he to criticize?
Izzy turned to his angel. "Hey, fella. What's your name?" The reply was muffled. Izzy shook his head. "Can't hear you. Your comm must be broken. Pull off the helmet and I'll slap a big kiss on ya or at least know who I should buy a beer later."
The mystery BLADE slumped his shoulders, then pulled his helmet off with obvious reluctance. Izzy had been trained well by Mama Weis, so he didn't actually spit with laughter. The guy had permanent white pancake makeup slathering his skin, a tomato red nose, the tiniest heart shaped dab of lipstick, and bright blue triangles both above and below his eyes. The Full Clown Job, and the bane of many a young BLADE that didn't think how the look might get old after a few months (or a few hours, to be honest).
Izzy trained his smile into something that was almost normal. "All I can say is thanks a bunch and I owe you big time." His eyes were watering from the effort not to blink or twitch or sparkle. "Hey, let me ask you a thing: you like Chinese food? Because I know a place."
a/n: Izzy is a friend of Frye and has been around a few stories. "Leaning" most recently.
Next up: Whoops I'm behind. Two beers.