Downtown Daten City was an active hub of mortal frivolity. Families and couples and groups socializing back and forth. Going to the cinema. Eating out at restaurants of varying prices. Shops for the niche and the general audiences.
It was a decent sight, if it weren't for the sight and the reek of mortal depravity going on unseen, practically behind every dumpster and cast shadow. But Boxer could sense them. Like a barely audible sound or the unpleasant, greasy sensation of static, it was ever-present and agitating.
Drugs, squalor, back-alley sexual activities, and worse, all hiding under the glitz and glamor of the big city, like body-glitter on the hide of a diseased whore.
It struck him as fitting, as the city closest to Heaven and Hell could not help but be such a contradiction. Then again, the gates of Limbo are strongest here too, that and in Oten City nearby as well. The void between the two facets ever keeping the twain from truly mixing one way or the other.
Brazen youths sped by on electric bicycles, laughing and hollering and cursing as Pajama groaned under her blankets.
"Stupid kids… I should shut'em up." She grumbled.
"They'll get what's comin' to them PJ," Beater said from behind the wheel of the slithering limousine. "I've seen plenty of dumb brats riding those fancy wannabe motorcycles." He smirked, his flawless white teeth reflecting in the windshield. "They'll end up dead in a ditch or twisted like a meat pretzel."
"Brother, sister please." Boxer admonished, his tone gently chiding. "Let the mortals do as they wish. Their actions will decide whether or not they are accepted into our Paradise or be condemned to below. Here, now, it is hardly our place to cast judgment." He smirked, eyes on the apartments that sat atop of the various shops and restaurants. "That comes later. As they say, what goes around comes around."
"Feh, would make it easier on'em." Beater growled. "Damn, where did that Priest say Panty was again?"
"In this part of town, and we would notice." Boxer replied. "Degenerate as Garterbelt is, I can tell he wasn't lying in our prior talk. When it came to those Angels, he was speaking truth."
"No excuse to not whip Stocking or Panty into shape though." Pajama yawned, resting her head on a pillow. "Stocking was alright, if she had her sweets. Still a jerk like Panty but not as hard-core, ya know?"
"She still Fell though." Beater huffed. "She ain't no sister of mine."
Boxer smiled, content to look out the window and look for any sign that could lead to his sister. The apartment balconies up top had some different degrees of décor. Plants. A surfboard. Or nothing.
Then, lights and knick-knacks. Twisted about the balcony like a Christmas kudzu, heavy drapes bearing a male glyph luridly interfacing with a female glyph hung behind the sliding glass door. Along with a large chest of sorts, or perhaps it was a cover barbecue?
"Beater, park to the side. Pajama, your scope?"
Beater obliged, the red haired man found an open spot as the limousine began to shrink bit by bit, changing from a limo to a simple sedan as it parked perfectly in the narrow lot. The pinkette rose from her spot, grabbing her shirt as it became an amorphous blob of blue and white light.
An instant later, she was dressed in nothing but simplistic, almost drab, bra and undies. In her hands was a massive Barret M82 Sniper Rifle, glowing blue with Divine Energies as she removed the scope and brought it to her eyes. "See it, Pajama?"
"Yeah, the gaudy one with the Christmas lights?" She murmured, zooming in with her scope. "That box is showing blue on my scopes. Probably a cooler." Boxer saw the door open, and a tall, stocky, balding man, mid 40s from the look of him, walked out and grabbed a large, dark bottle from it, alcohol no doubt. The Angel's keen eyes saw a tuft of blonde poking its head out as the man went back inside. "Sighting confirmed. It's Panty."
"She got a new squeeze, huh?" Beater rolled his eyes as Boxer held out his hand, his sister handing him the scope as he looked through it. He switched a function, the scope going to X-Ray vision as he zoomed in.
Yes, the man wasn't alone, with the divine glow of his wayward sister splayed out on a bed. The man took a hearty swig from the bottle before handing it off to her. She drained it in a single draught and the two wasted no time in commencing fornication.
He handed the scope back to Pajama, and got out of the car. "You wait here. I'll go up and talk to her myself."
"You don't think you need back-up?" Beater asked, his window down as Boxer closed the door. "Panty may be a bitch, but she was always a crafty fighter. She knew how to lay down an ass kicking if need be."
"Wow, Beater complimenting Panty. Never thought I'd hear it," Pajama said, dryly. "Bra and Lin will have a field day with this."
"Oh shaddup! I'm just giving a heads up to Box here!" Beater snapped.
"I'll be fine, you two. I won't be long." Boxer said with a calm smile.
"What if she doesn't want back in?" Pajama inquired, her sniper rifle glowed blue and she was back in her pajamas again, grabbing up the blankets and bundling them about her.
"Oh, she will. One way or another." Boxer patted the car, and he walked across the street, as there were no cars crossing. He made it to the other side, noticing a key code inside. He cupped his chin, pondering how to gain access without drawing too much attention. God would provide a solution, one way or another. He cocked his ear as he heard footsteps behind him.
"Excuse me, young man, trying to get in."
"Excuse me, ma'am." Boxer turned, seeing an old lady walking up as she carried groceries. Boxer reached out for the bags. "May I help?"
"Oh! Why thank you, sonny." She said, smiling gratefully.
The rank odor of cat urine wafted off her in acrid waves, but he could sense she was a good and decent soul.
"Of course, ma'am." Boxer smiled, nodding at the door. "By the way, I am trying to get in to see my sister, but she doesn't seem to be answering the phone," he said as he stepped aside, and let her punch in the code for entry. "Mind if I follow you in?"
"Not at all. Thank you for taking the weight off of this old woman's shoulders." She groaned, walking in slowly as Boxer followed along after, grateful for the entry as they entered the apartment complex. They got to the elevator and rode up to the top-most floor. The same one where Panty's flat was. They exited and Boxer saw the various rooms and their outdoor decorations that allowed them to stand out. The one down the hall again had Christmas lights around it, festoon with pistol and sweating eggplant stickers on the outside. Perfect.
He followed the old lady to her room, and when she opened the door he saw seven cats inside her flat, looking at them with flat yellow and green stares. "You can set it down there."
Boxer set the bags on the counter, seeing plenty of cat food inside.
"Thank you so much for the help. My old arms can only take so much more you know?"
"Not at all, ma'am." Boxer said, smiling. "You have a wonderful day as well."
He waved to her, noticing the cats as they stared at him warily, their simple animal brains no doubt sensing his Otherness. He stepped out as the woman waved and closed the door. He rubbed his nose and groaned a bit, taking a breath blessedly unburdened with ammonia. Toxoplasma Gondii was one of Father's more eccentric creations, but it was not his place to question its purpose.
He walked down the hallway, standing outside of Panty's doorway, canting his ears as to hear the goings on inside. Moans and grunts of pleasure, breathy encouragements and the rising cries of climax.
He set a hand on the wall, sensing the Sin peak, looking at his watch as he felt the tide ebb and flow.
"Hoooooh… man, you're a great lay Panty!" The man's voice sounded from within. "Haven't had a romp like that in months!"
"I can tell ole timer!" His sister replied, panting. No doubt about it. It was Panty. "Been saving up for me in more ways than one!"
"Oh yeah, with how over the hill my wife is? She's become a right battle-axe since she hit menopause. Feh, we're just together until our kids are off to college."
"Well, if you're thinkin' of hookin' up with me, that's a no go. But, I'm open for the smash if you got the cash~" Panty purred.
"Ha! After that cow, the last thing I wanna do is hitch again! This sure beats blowing a grand of those brats' college funds at the casino."
There was movement inside.
"Wanna shower?" Panty asked. "Maybe a quickie?"
"What? Another? You trying to kill me?! Nah, I gotta head back before the missus gets suspicious. I hang out with my co-workers and do rec-basketball sometimes. That'll explain the smell." The man replied, head for the door. "Have a nice shower, Panty! Thanks a ton!"
"No problem! Come again~"
"Oh, you bet." There was laughter as Boxer remained silent, hearing movement before the door opened. A stout man in his 40s with male-pattern baldness and beergut came sauntering out as if he made a million bucks.
"You next in line, pretty boy?" The man said.
"You could say that."
"Don't worry, kid," he said, grinning. "I broke her in for you! Have fun, now!"
"Enjoy yourself. You only live once after all." Willing adultery and proud of it, all while wasting the future of his children. "After that, who knows?"
The Damned Man regarded him with a curious stare, but decided he had places to be. Boxer stepped in through the closing door, careful not to make a sound. He cocked his head, hearing humming from the open bathroom door.
"Mmmm mmm mmm~" Purred Panty as Boxer walked about, silent as the void of space. The apartment was covered with Christmas lights for a low-light ambiance, the smell of sweat and sex was pungent in the air. Bottles of cheap beer and whiskey lay about on the countertop and floor. The immaculate blonde man took note of the furniture, stained with his sister's activities. On one counter, a picture frame stood about ready to tip over, some of the faces in the portrait were removed, not that Boxer couldn't recognize them.
It was a group photo of Garterbelt, Stocking, Panty, and a boy in a green jumpsuit. The former two had their faces burned out with a cigar cherry, with Panty looking pensively annoyed, looking into the middle distance while the boy was beaming, happy and content as could be. His visage was unmarred save for a barely perceptible scorch mark, as though the same treatment afforded the others had been intended but… hesitated.
Curious.
"Alright! With Jorge from this morning and Dennis just now, that makes two thousand dollars~!" Panty cheered from her bedroom. "That'll cover the rent and then some. I should hunt around more construction sites and officer, find some more desperate dudes who want a nice fuck," she said, aloud, to no one. "If I bust my box, I'll be over twenty grand solid this week!"
Boxer heard footsteps and stood still as Panty walked right past him in her bright red dress. Her pristine heavenly blonde hair wound up in a towel as she counted out a wad of cash. "I should look into a trip to Hawaii at some point. Maybe I can fuck an Alejandro or a sexy tattooed Samoan guy down there. Wonder if I could write it off as a business trip, tax season coming up, after all…" She paused, musing. "Man, I really wanna moan out 'Alejandro' or some hot Samoan name. Ha!"
"Kanaka Maoli are the native peoples of Hawaii," said Boxer. "Samoans are from the Samoan Islands."
"GAAAH!? What the fuck?!" Panty yelped in shock, turning around with surprise on her face as the man in the glowing-white suit smiled at her. Her expression morphed from flabbergasted shock to outraged irritation. "Oh, you gotta be FUCKING kidding me!"
"One wonders what frightful progress you would make if you devoted half as much effort into your actual work as you did your… 'hobby'." Boxer smiled pleasantly, his expression the exact opposite of his sister's, though the sheer disgust radiating off him was outright resonant. "Hello, sister. How have you been keeping?"
"What do you want, and how the fuck did you get in here?!" Panty set her collection of bills on the kitchen counter, glaring hard at the man.
"I wanted to speak with you, and I helped an old lady in with her groceries." Boxer replied in order. "I see you are doing well… for a harlot."
"Obviously. I'm doing peachy keen here! Wee! So much fun and happiness. There, that's the report. Now, get the fuck out, Box-Muncher." Panty pointed to the door. "And don't bother showing your face around here again."
"Now sister, is that any way to treat family?" Boxer asked, the girl taking her money and stomping off to a guest room to the side. He heard the click and whirl of a safe before Panty came back out.
"Because, fuckface, I know that whenever you're around you make my life a living hell!" She snarled, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "Besides, what are you doing down here, anyway? If it's because Garter bitched and moaned about us he, and you, can french-kiss my asshole! I'm done with your Heavenly bullshit!"
"I can assure you I came here not on Garterbelt's nor anyone else's request, but of my own accord." Boxer replied. "I noticed there was no sign of any Ghost activity in Daten City during my brief stay here. A fine job, then, in quelling the infestation."
"No thanks to your sorry asses," Panty growled. "That job to get those Coins to get back into Heaven was a fucking pain. Worse yet, I didn't see a red fucking cent! Stocking fucking boggarted them all when she fell! Fat cow probably got a power boost from 'em too! And that's on top of the Ghosts she ate… greedy bitch…" she uttered to the side.
"And because of that, you gave up on returning to Heaven?" Boxer replied. "Because you felt shortchanged?"
"No Ghosts means no Coins means no Heaven."
"And that's why you didn't return to Heaven?" Boxer asked. "Lack of funds?"
Panty narrowed her eyes. "You're not leaving unless you get a full answer, are you, dickwad?"
"Is it too much to ask for the context regarding your current state?" Boxer shrugged. "I am your older brother, after all. Am I not entitled to some clarification?"
"You're no brother of mine." Panty glowered. "You practically cast me and Stocking out yourself!"
"And whose fault was that?" He replied, his tone not raising. "I warned you and Stocking, we all warned you, over and over, where your actions in Heaven would lead. Yet you both kept indulging despite our warnings. Did you really think there would be no consequences?"
"Beats being under your fucking thumb for all time!" Panty snarled, her blue ringed eyes glaring hard into Boxer's own. If it weren't for the difference of gender, someone would mistake them for twins. "Beater, PJ, Lin and Bra are sipping up your kool-aid, Box-Punter, but me and Stocking wanted no part of it!"
"We were tasked with bringing divine and heavenly order to our charges. It is our duty, for Mother Judgement brought us into the world to do just that," Boxer replied. "I only wish to bring you back into the fold."
Panty scoffed and shot up both middle fingers, pulling down the corner of her eye with one and blowing a raspberry. "Fold this, you cum-colored pissmop!"
"Charming. Have you ever considered writing poetry?" He looked to the side, noticing an unopened letter in the mail and scoffed. "Panty Anarchy? A fitting nom de plume, I suppose."
"Beats the shit outta Panty Tyranny!" She hissed. "You wanted to blow your pipe and have me and Stocking dance along like fucking cats! The Creampied Piper of Heaven!"
"Rats. The Pied Piper charmed rats," Boxer corrected.
"Oh, fuck off with your semantics!" Panty barked. "And if you're planning to take me back to Heaven the answer's 'fuck no'. And I'd sure as shit like to see your bitchmade ass try and make me!"
"Make you? Gracious no! I'm not here to drag you back, Panty. I'm here to help you back. Even though your Heaven Coins were stolen, I could invite you back in. It's that easy," Boxer said. "We can overlook all your past transgressions." Panty rolled her eyes, walking away and going to her bathroom. He could hear the water run. "All you have to do is ask forgiveness, Sister."
"Fuck. Off." She replied, washing her face.
"Why do you not wish to return?" Boxer inquired, his hands in his pockets.
"Because in Heaven its fucking boring as shit!" She exclaimed, gesturing broadly at the apartment around them. "Here on Earth, I'm among my people! I can make a nice livin' fucking whoever I want, however I want!" She proclaimed. "This is the life!"
Boxer looked around the clothes and towels on the floor, the discarded, half-eaten slices of pizza, bruises of mold blossoming on some of them. "Oh, quit fucking judging me! I hire a cleaning lady once a week."
"That you maintain this level of squalor despite that is impressive, in a way."
"Shut up and fuck off, preferably both, in either order!" Panty said, digging through her underwear drawer. "I got a webcam sesh in ten, so unless you want to lube up and contribute, I'd suggest you waddle off back to whatever lemon-scented fartcloud you fell off of!"
"Do you not care for the corruption and shattered lives you leave in your wake? Leading mortals astray with your Celestial wiles?" Boxer asked as he began to inspect the room. He spotted a tally board on the wall, walking up to it so he could see the chalkboard. 'Guys I've had sex with' Was the title. With hundreds of tallies of five. "Why, you even keep score."
"Why should I care? They're the ones who want a quick fuck. They ask, I provide. I get paid. I don't have to be some wage slave or go to some shitty school." Panty huffed proudly. "My door's always open for business, and who am I to not relieve the stress and give a bit of happiness to poor, desperate men? In fact, I'm doing my job of giving (post-nut) clarity and joy to mortals! Way more than you and your circlejerk-off and soggy communion wafers ever could! I'm a damned Angel of mercy!"
"Damned." Boxer felt his eyebrow twitch as he came upon the number on the tally. "One thousand five hundred and twenty seven recipients of 'mercy'."
"Yeah, make it twenty-eight." Panty walked up, taking a chalk and marking it. "Road to two-k…" She glared back at him. "Lemme guess, you're going to lecture me about fornication again?"
"Hardly. God gifted me with endless patience, but also the wisdom to not bash my head against a brick wall. No, I am simply curious as to your former social circle. I can understand cutting yourself off from Garterbelt, better than you know. Stocking Fell before your eyes, and yet you made no attempt to improve or curb your vices." Boxer turned to her, manifesting the framed and defamed photograph in his hand. "I do wonder, though, about the boy in this picture. What's his story?"
"Give that back!" Panty snapped, lunging for the frame.
A brief struggle ensued, in which Panty, for all her speed and reflexes, found herself grasping air time and time again. Once she saw the futility, she relented and something in Panty's face changed, the anger and mistrust shifting into something else, something Boxer had rarely seen in her: hurt and the barest hint of shame. "He's nobody. Nothing. Just another guy I fucked."
Another guy. Was she actually that stupid or did she think he was that stupid?
Yes, that boy, he was special. No mistaking it.
"Really? Yet why is his photo untarnished compared to your Fallen Sister and the priest whom you loathed?"
"He was number 1000, okay!?" Panty cried, a half-hearted smirk on her face. "Call me sentimental."
"Now, what about this boy could inspire such a thing in my dearest sister of all people?"
"He was cute, rich, and had a fourteen-inch cock," said Panty, rolling her eyes.
"And…?"
"And none of your fucking business, asshole! Now, get out of my apartment, Box!" Panty snapped, pointing out the door. "'Fore I call the cops."
"You really don't want to return to Heaven, do you?"
"I go back, I'm no longer free." Panty growled. "And I ain't about to be chained down by anyone or anything! I'm Panty Fucking Anarchy, and I answer to no one."
A long, heavy silence filled the apartment, their eyes meeting as the air electrified.
Boxer sighed, shaking his head as though relenting, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"I suppose I can't begrudge you for pursuing your dreams. For me, that would be bringing peace and love everlasting to the people of earth. For you it's… fucking every man alive. Oh well, if that's your calling, far be it from me to deny you that." Boxer sighed, an amused smile on his face. "Even the most ambitious mortal woman couldn't achieve that. You have certain… privileges in achieving your goals."
He walked past her towards the door, handing the blonde girl the framed photo.
"Godspeed."
(X)
Panty looked at the photo, glaring at that smiling Geek Boy as her bastard of a brother passed her by.
"Well, I'm not them, I'm better than them." She muttered, closing her eyes.
She placed the photograph on the table, face down. That would help. Burning out Stocking and Garterbelt's faces were easy.
But burning Brief was-
Panty jerked forward slightly as though shoved, a sound echoing in the filthy, gaudy apartment. A dull thud mixed with a lurid squelch. The ever-present harlot in Panty recalled the time she'd thrown an 'Bare Knuckle Boxing' themed orgy, no holds barred, Bring Your Own Lube. Even she was walking funny after that! This time didn't hurt as much, though.
Oh, wait. There it is.
Panty looked down and gasped at what she saw: a padded gloved hand protruding from her chest, clutched in its fingers was a glowing blue orb. She turned, and Boxer Tyranny was standing behind her, smiling at her from over her shoulder.
"Boxer… you…mother….fuck…!" Panty uttered, there was no blood. Yet the pain… as he gripped on that blue orb. She couldn't move. She was paralyzed. "This… was… my favorite… top!"
"You forced my hand, sister. What I have planned is going to require all of us if we are to be successful. Because of your reluctance to improve, to change, you have lost your home, lost your sister, and you are on path to losing yourself." Boxer had that same fucking annoying smile on his face, but his tone had an edge as he ripped his hand out. She stumbled forward, falling to her knees as she pawed at her chest, shocked to find not so much as a tear in her shirt. Boxer loomed over her, his face cast in shadow save for his glowing eyes and the pulsating ball of light in his hands "It's not a matter of want. I need you. Trust me when I say that this is for your own good."
"You shit-eating asshole!" Panty barked, her hand going under her dress to whip out Shoelace. She may not put him six feet under, but she can make him into swiss cheese and-
Her glowing blue pistol did not form. Her white panties remained just that. Panties.
"Wha-" She gasped, her fingers flicking her undergarment over and over again until she understood what was in Boxer's hand.
A glowing blue core, his hands encased in glowing blue MMA boxing gloves. "It seems Stocking did me a great favor before she fell. While Angelic weaponry does not kill angels, they can have… other effects."
She moved to reach out for the core when he grabbed a small vial from his pocket, opening it as the blue orb was pushed inside. And Panty suddenly felt… weak. Tired. The bright sheen of her skin was fading.
"Give… that back!" She hissed.
Boxer smirked, a warm smile beneath two cold eyes. "You have long abused your powers and status to sate your own desires, much like Stocking did. It makes me wonder if I had come down and done this sooner, you both would have been saved. This is necessary for you, sister. For your salvation."
"G-give it…" Panty grabbed the table and tried to rise, only for it to topple over with her, the photo falling to the floor next to her. "Oof!"
"So, as you are keen on making contracts and deals with mortal souls, I will follow your example, and offer one unto you." He said, smiling all the same.
Panty yelled, throwing the photo at him like a shuriken. The spinning corner struck him in the eye, wood and glass shattering into pieces. He did not so much as blink.
"You wish to savor and indulge in mortal sin and exacerbate the suffering of humanity? Then live as one. And suffer as one. As all the men you have fornicated with were not as clean and pure as you are… were. However, should you wish to regain your Divinity and the protections it grants you, you will abandon the life you have led here. Forsake your past, all of it. Panty and Stocking and all who knew them are now…" Boxer's hand flashed out and snatched the fluttering, defaced photo, incinerating it in a flash of blue fire. Panty felt something cold in her stomach as her eyes were as wide as pinpricks. "…Dust in the wind. You must return to the fold of the Divine Garments. I need all hands on deck, if all are to be Saved."
Panty tried to rise to her feet, only to collapse, panting and heaving. She felt dizzy. Sick. Her eyes wandered over to the small pile of ashes that used to be her one memento of… those times. She glowered up at Boxer, her face slick with sweat and bright with fever. "Go… to Hell!"
"If necessary. I am not without mercy, of course." Boxer said, pulling out a business card. "You need only call, and I will answer, like the good big brother I am."
He walked forward, kneeling down as he petted Panty's head. She was panting, feeling heavy, as much as she wanted to spit in his face but found herself unable despite the free flowing saliva, her tongue felt numb, swollen. Fuck, why did she feel so sick?!
"Return to us, join us in the mission delivered upon us by God, and your divinity will be returned to you in full. Refuse, and you will suffer and die as a mortal." He patted her head, and rose up. "My phone will be on."
"Get.. back here… Box!" Panty urged, feeling bile rise in her throat.
He went to the door, opening it and stepping through, turning over his shoulder to smile and wave at her. "It was good to see you again, Panty. Let's get together again sometime."
He closed it, and Panty took deep breaths… before she crawled to the bathroom at a speed she didn't possible in her condition. She looked in the mirror, her perfect silky smooth skin becoming blemished with scratches and nicks and blisters. She made it to the tub just in time before she lost her breakfast.
(X)
Boxer returned to the car, getting inside and leaning back, sighing.
"So, I take it she's not coming back?" Beater asked.
The blonde said nothing, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a glowing blue vial.
"Ooooh… is that…"
"Her divinity. Her powers as an Angel," Pajama uttered.
"She'll call eventually." Boxer pocketed it, smirking as he leaned back.
"She must be hurting real bad right now…" Pajama scooted up, resting her head on his lap, nestling. "Good."
"Now, now, Pajama. Let us not relish in her suffering. This is a necessary evil, not a righteous punishment," Boxer said as Beater got Eden on the move, the car extending into the limousine it was before. "That is one objective completed. She will come around, it's only a matter of time."
"Nice. Where to next?" Beater asked, and Boxer smirked as he got his phone out.
"Bra?" He asked as it answered. "Any luck?"
"Hey Boxy~" His sister replied. "Just thinkin' about ya. Got the transaction through. Spread Leg Towers are ours."
"Mmmngh… Silicone Sis." Pajama groaned, glaring up at the phone.
Boxer chuckled a little as she got her own tablet, seeing cartoons of cats and dogs on screen. "Excellent. We are on our way. And furniture arrangements?"
"Already bought. I'll meet ya soon. We can celebrate over wine and cheese later~" Bra crooned.
"You're the best when it comes to business, Bra. Thank you. We're on the way." He hung up, as Eden slithered down the road and onto the main road, going into the heart of the city where Spread Leg Towers lie. "Truly the best."
"So, what next?" Beater asked. "We celebrate today, but what about tomorrow?"
Boxer smirked. "We go hunting for demons, my brother."
Beater flashed a crocodile grin. "Yeaaaah boy." He snarled, gripping the wheel tightly. "We gonna figure out where those Sisters are at?"
"Dil D.O. Complexes," Pajama muttered as her cartoon played on her tablet, her head resting on Boxer's lap. "I checked."
Boxer patted her head, and Pajama's dour mood softened to a light smile.
"Nice nice, can't wait to cut loose!" Beater laughed as he drove along.
Boxer sat content and smiling as his dark blue eyes looked out towards the direction Pajama mentioned. A fancy upscale community between Daten and Oten, surrounded by woods and forests.
The perfect place to exorcize demon scum.
(X)
Within the heart of Daten City, under the shadow of the Spread Leg Towers, a great and massive complex took up several blocks of real estate. On one end of this compound was the skyscraper belonging to the widespread global conglomerate of the Rock Foundation. The venerable institution began as a coal mining magnate in England before crossing the pond and setting up shop in the United States, where the company expanded to other ventures. Uranium mining. Solar and Wind Technology. Desalinization. Most energy companies on the globe could trace their roots back to the all powerful Rock Foundation.
On the other end of the complex, a massive ominous manor loomed atop a hill, its architecture as gothic and Medieval as can be. A striking contrast between the sleek and upscale design of Rock Foundation Headquarters, this grand and opulent mansion seemed more at home in a pulp comic book, or as a lair for an evil vampire or other such beast in the stylings of Hammer Horror. Rock Manor, the abode of the ancient and powerful Rock Family.
To the eyes of Lingerie, this place had an unnatural aura to it. It would warrant further investigation…
"Enjoying the view of Rock Manor?" Said a voice, and Lingerie turned up, seeing her coworker. A taller man with black hair as he stopped by a vending machine.
"Somewhat. I'm still new here," the mousy-looking girl said. Behind her wide glasses, Lingerie possessed bright blue ringed eyes, her black hair done up in a small bun so as to not get in the way. She was very slender and petite, giving the impression of blossoming youth, much to the chagrin of the otherwise serious and composed Angel. Compared to her sisters, Bra, Stocking, and even Pajama, who were blessed with full, mature figures –in order, ranging from Magumbo to handful– she came up noticeably short. Even the svelte, elegant Panty had something. Her? She was as flat as a board with all the curves of a Nevada road.
"Yeah, higher-ups get to go down there on occasion for private meetings with the big boss, Arthur Rock," her coworker elaborated, offering his hand. "Name's Adi by the way. Adi Dasler."
"Lin. Lin Germaine." She took it, her small, dainty hand vanishing into his.
He was tall, towering over her, and built like a quarterback, with glossy black hair and blue eyes, his skin a healthy tanned brown. Even by Heaven's standards he was quite the lean cut of–light glinted off the golden wedding band on his finger.
She grit her teeth a bit.
Lucky broad…
"Well Lin, Daten City is a big town with plenty of places to go… and plenty of places to avoid. Pro-tip: one of the latter is Rock Manor. Don't ever go there uninvited." Adi explained, and Lingerie perked up.
"Lemme guess, trespassing?" She asked as her cola dropped down from the machine. She reached down, grabbed it and began to sip.
"Yeha, Arthur is big on privacy. Helps that he can walk to work, but I remember a few colleagues of mine tried to get into the manor when a big-wig party was going on." Adi elaborated. "Mr. Rock didn't take too kindly to that…"
"Did they get fired?"
"That and more. Mr. Rock blacklisted them from ever working in Daten City again. Man has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, so the saying goes."
"You mean he had his finger inside multiple pies." Lingerie corrected with a sip.
"Ah, well, either way." He flashed a big wide smile. "If you wanna get by here, just listen to me. I'll show ya the ropes."
Oh now he's patronizing her now? And showing off those glitzy perfect teeth? Hmmmph.
"Right." Lingerie nodded. "What else can you tell me about Mr. Rock?" She asked, eyes back up on the man.
"Man keeps to himself mostly. Comes around every now and then to ensure the ship isn't going full Titanic and what not." Adi shrugged. "Has a kid, but to be fair, we haven't seen much of him."
Briefers Rock, the Hells Monkey. "What do you mean? You haven't seen him recently or often in general?"
"Well, he usually goes to school but I haven't seen him take the bus." Adi went to the vending machine as Lin ogled his strong arms.
Great, now he's showing off those guns of his? What is he now, Beater?
"The CEO's son takes the bus?"
"You'd think he would take a limo to school but, nope. Hasn't taken the bus in a while. Then again, he is old enough to drive." Adi selected his option. "But I don't see any fancy cars pulling in and out of the garage, like, at all lately." Lingerie went to a side glance of the mansion again as Adi reached down to get his water.
Lucky, being able to resist the siren call of soft drinks. He probably thinks he's better than her. Lingerie rolled her eyes.
"How long has it been?" She inquired.
"I dunno… over a year and change? Or maybe he's away to some fancy prep boarding school. It's not really a subject you can broach with the higher-ups, so all we have to work with are rumors. If he is, about time I say. The Public Schools in Daten City suck." Adi laughed. "You take care now, Lin. I'll be over in Department A."
"Right. You too Adi." Lingerie replied as she looked to the manor below.
With Adi out of sight as he walked away, she got out her smartphone, tapping on a special app as it glowed a bright blue. Like a camera, the app brought up a unique screen as she looked over the house. She can see various mortal energies around other buildings but Rock Manor?
The haze of demonic energies leaked from it, all but confirming that it's the residence for the Hell's Monkey bloodline, on top of other things.
"A demon must have stopped by there a couple of days ago." She murmured, opening up her phone again into a notepad. "Demon by Rock Manor…" She walked off, whispering to herself.
She had to find a way to get into that manor. Her eyes caught a hint of movement before she departed the hallway with view of Daten City. She saw a van enter the complex of the manor, parking by one of the side roads that went within the compound towards a…
Loading dock?
Lingerie trotted around her floor, following the van's movements as it opened. She got her phone out, zooming in via the camera function.
"Dry cleaners huh." She mused, seeing clothes being ferried left and right.
She caught sight of some of the servant staff of the manor retrieving said clothing. Mostly butler/maid attire. She also caught the sight of other items being ferried into the van. Boxes. Many many boxes and… a very stained and crummy mattress. Someone's clearly been dating rosy palms without ever considering the mattress. Good for them, they have a way to bring about self-pleasure, an attribute she lacked.
She bit back an envious hiss, wanting to punch something.
Lingerie sighed, opening her notepad again. "Objects moving to and from the home and-"
She caught sight of some servants spilling a box, and she zoomed in. The boxes contents were… action figures? Of cartoonish looking ghosts, Ghostbusters, and a Starship Enterprise. Next came a photo, she saw red, blue, and blonde hair and some green blob but her camera's function couldn't quite pick it up.
What joy could be had in accumulating such quantities of vapid nonsense? Some, she surmised, possibly a lot. To find contentment in something so simple as a worthless purchase, both confused and frustrated her in equal measure.
"Nerd/Geek items being moved out of home via dry cleaning company. Getting rid of them?" She mused as she typed it in. Her phone's alarm went off and she perked up. Five minutes left till lunch. She got to another vending machine, selecting the option for a simple hot pocket with pepperoni within.
She adjusted her glasses, rubbing her side where her lingerie clung to her form under her business suit.
She'll have to continue her investigation later. If the Hells Monkey isn't home or present, it could complicate things, but Lingerie had to make sure. Had to get a closer look.
She'll have to find a way inside. Somehow…
(X)
Chuck panted as he scuttled through the woods, hopping over roots and rocks. This absurd body of his limited his speed to a frantic scramble of stubby limbs, but his pace was relentless and unchanging. Being a construct made of otherworldly energies meant very few things could tire him out. Humping a fire hydrant could. Or chasing for miles after a frisbee thrown by an Angel. But running to warn your friends?
That's small potatoes.
He saw the trees part, and he came onto a road. "Chuck Chuck?" He turned, seeing a wide open sign.
DATEN CITY, USA – 30 MILES
Wow he ran 30 miles? Take that Usain Bolt! Or any other fancy Olympian!
OTEN CITY, USA – 30 MILES
30 miles to Oten City? Which means-
"Chuck FUCK!" He cursed. He overpassed Dil. D.O. Heights by ten miles! He looked towards the direction of Daten City and got on a run along the side of the road.
Asphalt isn't as fun as the natural earth, especially to run on.
He had to hurry though! He couldn't afford any delays right now-
He heard honking, hooting and hollering as he turned.
Right as a biker gang came streaming down and Chuck squealed in pain as he was run over, crushed into green and purple mush over and over by motorcycles, dozens of them.
"Chuuu-huuuuck…" He groaned, feeling his regenerative body slowly come back together…
Before he was flattened by a big-rig truck and he felt himself skid against burning rubber and the asphalt. "CHHHHHHHCKKKKKK!"
And the big rig swerved as the constructs greasy innards coated half its wheels. The speeding semi jackknifed and tumbled over into oncoming traffic as other trucks and cars piled up into a fiery mountain of twisted metal.
Chuck paid it no, mind, focusing on regenerating even if it was painful as can be.
But he couldn't give up. He had to reach and warn the Sisters, now!
The green ooze splottered out of the wreckage as people began to leave their vehicles to see the bonfire the trucks had caused. Chuck wormed his way into the grassy shoulder and continued on as he began to regrow his limbs and organs, biting on weeds and plants to pull himself forward bit by bit.
His existence was pain as it was. Regenerating from any injury, never able to die until whatever higher power granted him his mercy. Normally, it was an unqualified curse, but now? He had to keep going, despite the pain, for the ones who showed him love and kindness.
After the Sisters were warned, he would reunite with Brief. He'd be more than happy to be a good boy for him. He deserved better than those bitch Angels, or anything else Daten City had in store for him.
The green blob that was Chuck crawled back into the woods, but stayed closer to the road, and began to make his way back towards Daten City…
An owl swooped down, clamping it talons into his back. His jaw reset and he reached up, grabbing the bird by the wing and hurling it away as it squawked and flew off in pain.
Just keep going. Just keep going.
So there you have it. Panty's debut in story and more context on what went on between her and Brief. In a nutshell: not good. More on Brief's mindset will be made in the next chapter or so.
Chuck is on his way to warn the Sisters, the Divine Garments are accomplishing one task at a time, with their eyes set on the Demon Sisters next. But with the Hells Monkey missing, how will Boxer react?
Find out next time, and a big thanks to WA for polish on this one. Hope you all enjoyed.