“Come on, chicka-dee!” a gangrenous man with dried flex of blood in his goatee cajoled as he sprinted down an aisle of thick books of different colors. “Give us a little smile!”
Sunset Shimmer, accomplished local figure skater, motocross enthusiast, and mobile app programmer, did not, in fact, give who was clearly the undead creep, a smile. She, in fact, showed him one of her favorites of a pair of birds she owned that usually nested hidden amongst her fingers. “Give me a reason to smile!” She fired back. “Like jumping out the nearest window!”
The white shirt and red-and-green flannel vest-wearing zombie snarled and added a classy, “So is that a no on showing us your tits?” as he continued to run Sunset down, which like…
Okay, so the zombie seemed more after her flesh in the carnal sense than the eating sense, and like… Sure! Who says zombies have to ONLY be after brains and if they’re reverting to primal urges anyhow, it follows that some zombies would want to go for the ol’ ‘in-and-out’. Sunset said as she snagged a heavy book off the shelf, grasped it in both hands and did a complete 180, smashing the book into the face of the randy revenant.
The collision made a satisfying ‘crunch’ as Sunset’s pursuer toppled into a bookshelf that began to teeter.
But if it has to chase me down… Sunset continued to wonder.
She left the aisle and pulled the shelf down on her pursuer who exclaimed, “If only I hit the books harder in school, I might know how to defend myself! Ahhh!” as he was buried under a few hundred pounds of bound paper.
Clearly, I’m uninterested so why even ask if it’s going to-WAS going to force itself on me anyway? Wondered Sunset tried to steady her breathing.
“Guys, we got a live one!”
Sunset swallowed and noted that there were quite a few other freshly dead giving her a look she’d less expect from the library and more she’d expect at a bar, concert, or sexy botanical garden rave… At least there were some women zombies who seemed just as eager to sate their lust, both bloody and regular…
Right, because figuring out of the zombies, or whatever people were calling them to avoid the ‘z’ word, were sexist or not was more important than making sure she wasn’t raped, killed, and eaten… and maybe not even in that order.
Sunset ran fast and took a quick look at her surroundings. There was some sort of staff meeting or break room that had conveniently been left open across the few dozen yards of near open space only broken by tables and chairs. Of course, there were plenty of aisles as well, and a few exit signs but just her luck, there were plenty of the oddly verbose zombies in those directions.
She almost bee-lined for the meeting room, but she needed a bit more than just a solid door and some stuff to barricade it with. There was no telling when the zombies would get cleared out by a superhero, vigilante, or a magic-user of some sort.
There was also potentially the chance that someone could actually organize enough people with guns to take these a-holes out, but how often does that ever happen during a zombie outbreak?
No, if Sunset wanted to increase her chances of survival, she’d have to be proactive. Luckily, she read often enough that she knew her best chance at survival amongst her limited choices of ‘books’, ‘furniture’, and ‘whimsical library pottery’. All would at least keep her alive for the time being.
Sunset charged forward and grabbed a fat white vase looking thing with green, red, and blue swirls on it off the top of a chest-high shelf with both hands. It was heavy, to say the least, but she was at least fit and pumped full of adrenaline.
Some gaunt-looking zombie with a long beard and red flannel, and jeans, basically a zombie hipster who had adopted a lumberjack look was the closest and stopped long enough to utter “Look! She’s so lonely she’s hugging the decora—” before Sunset smashed the ceramic item on his head.
He went down in a pile of broken vase thing and swears as jagged ceramic pieces went everywhere, one giving her a small cut on her hand for her troubles.
Still on the move, Sunset jumped over the squirming, foul-mouthed being and grabbed a chair. There was a long-blond haired hippy-chick with a lack of color to her skin in between Sunset and the aisle she was heading towards. She had a bit more murder in her eyes than the other undead. In fact, she looked downright PO’ed. Sunset mused she might have just clobbered the girl’s boyfriend or husband as she swung the chair behind her.
“Give me your best shot, cun—”
Sunset swung the chair and the zombified flower child went down. Thankfully, it was the light, spindly zombies that had led the charge and their undead bodies were no more prepared to be smashed by heavy objects than they would have been in life.
She tossed the chair at a group of charging zombies who did not deal with the obstacle gracefully and went tumbling to the ground. This bought her enough time to dart down another aisle of books. Sunset slowed just long enough to pull a particularly thick, hardbound volume off the shelf and resume her mad dash to relative safety. All she had to do was make it end to the aisle and into the staff room.
So, of course, a portly, balding zombie with glasses whom Sunset recognized as one of the librarians blocked her path.
“Hah! Got you, baby!”
Sunset held the book tight in both hands and took a swing
‘SMASH!’
Glasses broke, face maybe broke, the zombie went down. Sunset had just enough time to muse on the positive aspects of the zombies took the time to stop and make a one-liner of some sort rather than just go in for the kill. It gave her time to violently deal with them at least long enough to get away, or into a room mercifully empty of them, in this case.
“’Going to the LIBRARY to save money on rentals!’ I said!” Sunset said as she finished her sprint into the reasonably well-furnished room of more wooden chairs and a table, some comfortable couches, and a mini-kitchen. She set the book on the table, the leather-bound tomb inscribed in blood-red lettering ‘The Moron’s Guide to Demonology’ and got to work. “‘Downtown WON’T be full of zombies this time’, I said!” Sunset pushed a chair under the knob and quickly began fortifying the door with more with a rhythm that showed more practice at this sort of thing than she was happy with. The door had a small window, or a viewport, really, that was laced with wired mesh. Pale and bloodied faces took turns peering through it and angrily calling out.
“Oh, come on! We were just playing! No one is really going to hurt you!” a gruff, unconvincing voice called out.
“Yeah! We just wanted to throw a library party!” A higher-pitched male voice added.
“That’s not a thing!” one of the female zombies said chastising the last to speak. “Libraries are supposed to be quiet!”
“We’re DEADITES! We’re literally the Evil Dead! What does it matter?!” responded the one suddenly finding itself in the argument.
Huh… Well, that’s another exchange I didn’t expect to hear… I guess I know their names, now?”
“Just because we’re evil and dead doesn’t mean we have to be disrespectful to the rules of the living!”
“Oh my, demiurge!” replied the other. “Okay, let’s get this guy out of here!”
Sunset glanced through her viewport where she was treated to quite the site of the Deadites turning on one of their own, picking him up, and carrying him over their heads until they got close enough to a window to throw him out a closed window. His last words seemingly being, “Throw me out, quieter, please!”
It would be a far more amusing site under different circumstances.
Man, it sucks being single… Sunset thought. Libraries, especially large ones like the ones in LA, were often host to all manner of books that creepy nerds would use to summon up evil and it also meant she didn’t have anyone to throw at the horde while she made her escape.
Granted, if she was currently dating maybe she’d have gone elsewhere to seek entertainment and who’s to say her date with any number of interested men, and a few women, wouldn’t end with her getting ticked off or her ticking them off, as what often happened, in one way or another wouldn’t go awry anyhow?
One might think a date with Sunset Shimmer couldn’t get as bad as this, but that one would be wrong… granted Sunset was often the CAUSE of the horrible date.
Sunset slumped her back against the wall for a moment before she hugged her knees, burying her face in her thighs as the catcalls from outside and banging on the door began.
It just wasn’t fair… She was at least TRYING to be a better person! Or at least stop causing trouble for a while. She didn’t deserve to be abused and zombified! Realistically, few people probably did.
Well, feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to help the situation. She got up to her feet and walked over to the book.
For whatever reason, Sunset had always felt strangely drawn to demonology, though she had managed to treat the hobby more as somewhat academic interest. Supposedly, there was a right way to go about using these unholy magics or at least a way to do it without being trapped in some sort of mega-monkey paw disaster, and this book seemed like Sunset’s best bet.
She opened the book to a random page and immediately noticed a smear of fresh blood on the book. Her own, specifically. She had forgotten about the small cut on her hand. She looked around the room for something she could stop the bleeding with and noticed a white, rectangular box on the wall marked with a red cross and the words FIRST-AID in big, bold red letters.
The cut would be a nuisance as she tried to sort this out, though who knows… she might need the blood for a spell or ritual or something! But it was probably unsafe to just have little bits of it dripping all over the book designed to summon things who might use Sunset’s blood any manner of ways to do her harm or make her life more difficult than it already was.
Especially since the blood she had accidently got on the book was now incandescent and starting to get brighter. Lighting up a page on a demon named Agares who has a small swipe of the now, cherry-red liquid over a seal that kind of looked like a laughing man with a crown.
Wait, what?
Sunset shot a worried look at her blood that was glowing and then also growing hotter and then catching the book on fire.
Blood wasn’t supposed to do that.
Before she could put the fire out, a brilliant bright light filled the room followed by a pillar of fire. Sunset shielded her eyes from the bright light as she felt blistering heat filled the room.
“Hey!” a raspy-voiced Deadite called out. “Looks like that hot chick wanted to get even hotter. Anyone have a bag of marshmallows?”
Sunset took it back. The one-liners were really starting to get on her nerves at this point.
Just as she regained enough sense to figure out she would need to find a fire extinguisher in the room she was trapped in and hope she didn’t pass out or die from smoke inhalation, the fire pillar dissipated. In its place was, well…
An old, bearded man wearing regal purple robes with gold trim and a jeweled crown. Which, you know… would just be weird, but he was riding a fully-grown crocodile who hissed at Sunset, but mercifully didn’t immediately charge to devour her.
A cursory glance at the demonology book, which looked none the worse for wear, and even lacked her blood, let Sunset know she was now in the presence of the demon depicted on the page Agares.
Sunset felt her heart skip a few beats in her chest. Talking zombies or ‘Deadites’ was one thing, but now a demon on top of it? This day was starting to get more than a little absurd, and also could use a little bit of chill.
The creature narrowed its weathered and burnt face which was somehow disturbingly human with a disturbingly recognizable expression as someone who was the manager at a retail store that was called up because a customer had a complaint. “What is thy request mor…” It suddenly trailed off and looked Sunset up and down, it’s smile taking on an almost… familiar quality. “Oh, niece Nova! What a pleasant surprise! OR are we going by ‘Red’ in this world?”
Sunset mentally upped how unprepared for this day she was from 200% to 300%. Though, being recognized by a demon was probably better than just being eaten.
“Hey! Who’s the hottie got in there with her?!” A random Deadite queried.
There was a bit of short, contemptuous laugh. “Looks like the little wench has summoned herself up a demon! Haha! Hey, dude! Do you want to do us all a favor and open the door? Save us a lot of ti—” Much to Sunset’s surprise, her ‘uncle’ met these requests with a stern glare directed in the direction of the undead peeking in through the small window on the door. Immediately, the undead stopped talking with all the stone their bodies had been turned into.
400% unprepared for the day.
“Ah! Fudgesicles!” A new voice chimed in. “Someone get a sledgehammer or a jackhammer. There’s no way we’re going to get at that prime piece of meat with those two ‘stonewalling’ us.”
The demon gave Sunset a quizzical look that Sunset avoided making eye contact with on account of enjoying her mobile flesh body. “That seemed a bit presumptuous. I’m surprised you’re letting it slide.”
“Uhh…”
The weathered face broke out in mirth as he motioned towards the door and swept in a manner letting Sunset know he was seemingly addressing the situation in general. “This is your work yes? Hah! Did you invite me here just to show your old uncle your very own apocalypse?”
Sunset swallowed. Well, the demon seemed friendly and clearly was protecting her and also had not even once tried to devour her soul. “Uh… Question?”
The demon let out a laugh. “Only always, my beautiful kin of the Lilium.”
Right, so Sunset was demon kin now? 500% unprepared for the day. “Uh…Please don’t take this personal—”
An expression immediately recognizable as disappointment crossed the demon’s face. “Oh, don’t tell me you were trying to summon besides your Apocolypse-loving uncle! If you were trying to reach your dad or mom, at least let me stick around to catch up…”
And there it was, the magical 666% unprepared for the day. Well, first thing first… “Um, who are you and what is going on?”
The demon’s eyes opened up wide and he gave Sunset one more look. “Oh my, are you actually unawakened?”
“Can I answer without being brutalized or having my soul devoured?” Sunset frowned. “Uh, no offense… I mean… I don’t know if you even do that it’s just…”
The wrinkled face smiled. It almost didn’t look vaguely threatening.
Almost.
Agares reached out a hand, not threateningly or fast, but with a sort of endearing slowness of an older relative reaching out to pat a child on the head. Sunset took a few steps back out of reach anyhow. It didn’t seem like a good idea to just let a demon touch you, after all.
Agares regarded her with surprise and then his face became oddly good-natured, especially for a demon, once more. “I mean you no harm. In fact, I’m I can help clear out your little Deadite problem.”
Little? Sunset’s forehead tightened as she scrutinized the face of the being in front of her. “Let me guess… You just want my soul or me to do some favor to be discussed later?”
Agares laughed, “Ah, this is one of those dimensions.”
“What, so demons just have bad press but are actually not that terrible when you get to know them?”
Agares shrugged, his smile unwavering. “Some are quite generous, and some are possibly far worse than you could possibly imagine.”
Sunset cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’ve been told I have a pretty messed up imagination.”
And then the demon did something Sunset could not have predicted.
He let out a hearty belly laugh. “Well put! I suppose to prove the former, I’m just going to have to help you out of the goodness in my heart.”
It had been a weird day for Sunset, but that hearing a demon say that sentence may have been the strangest thing to happen to her yet.
“Now then,” Agares put on a ponderous expression and stroked his beard. “I’m afraid I can’t just wave a hand and make this all go away.”
Sunset shrugged. “You seem quite capable of taking these things out with your skills,” she said, more suggestion than musing really.
Agares chuckled. “Thank you, but it’d take me all day and on into the never-ending night that’s falling to eliminate your pests one-by-one. Also, you’d be stuck with never-ending night.”
Sunset frowned. “Yeah, that would… that would be pretty bad still,” she said, as she got the odd premonition that her goth aunt was shaking her head in disagreement somewhere…
Agares stroked some beard. “Perhaps a different type of otherworldly intervention is in order…” With that, the demon tapped the tip of one of his pointed ears, his eyes drifting off to stare into space.
“Such as…?” Sunset asked.
“Hush, child, patience,” Agares replied. “It’s ringing.”
Sunset’s face tightened. “Okay… Just… What?”
~>~~~~o~~~~<~
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iw1Fm61HBA8
Several quick questions… Pinkamena posed mentally as she found herself, drifting, or more accurately flying through a completely foreign realm composed seemingly entirely transparent glowing bridges of various blues and purples that flowed with colored light like different colored rivers stacked on top of each other in vertical levels that off into the distance. The distance which seemed to simply be eternity, in this case.
Yes, um! Pinkamena’s chipper and apparently invisible or internal counterpart thought back.
WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT!? WHERE ARE WE!? AND WHY ARE THERE DEMONS, REAL DEMONS, CHASING US!? Pinkamena took another look at her surroundings. She was currently flying over a purple bridge and above her, near as she could tell, were just more of these light bridges. Occasionally she’d catch a flash of light dart the dozens, possibly hundreds of kilometers of some distant light bridge before that energy disappeared behind the web of this realm of bridges.
This was honestly secondary or perhaps even tertiary or quaternary to the fact that she was speeding, using a form of personal movement she didn’t even know she possessed, away not from a mass of the undead, but rather massive beings with wings, swords, claws, teeth… Pinkamena risked a closer glance but almost wish she didn’t.
Leading the charge was a massive being of fiery wings, word, body, and even limbs…
Oh! I recognize that one from those Hobbit movies we watched with Dan! It’s a Ball-rag…No, wait… that can’t be it.
There was also something that might have been scared and twisted human, except it was completely covered in chains. The rest of the demons behind those two looked to be a collection of monstrous bipeds of fur, teeth, claws, and all manner of sharp and serrated edged weapons.
Pinkamena grit her teeth and faced forward, she was losing speed… if there was such a thing in this shifted perspective… No, it was more… the demons were pulling at her very spirit… drawing her closer not by some over spell, but because part of her wanted to be with them.
Hey, don’t think like that! They’re the bad guys.
Not sure if you noticed, but I’m a bit of a bad guy myself. Pinkamena glanced back… Yeah, no, regardless of how she felt deep within herself, that band of flesh renders were going to take turns dissecting and prodding every inch of her soul.
Yeah, I feel that, too! So think happy thoughts and get us closer to that future castle thingy! Ooo! Ooo! Or maybe I should take over right now!
The castle was the one visible structure amongst the bridges. A stout shaped, yet massively tall building of a dark purple. Square at the base with a few giant triangular spires all angled towards the center lined with glowing lights that alternated between purple and blue. Like a great deal of what was around them, it looks like something out of a Scifi setting.
Pinkamena’s lip curled up in a knowing smirk. And where do you want to be most right now?
Well, back with Dan and Elle so we can save Elise, d’uh! And OH… Okay, yeah, I see your p—AH!
Pinkamena suddenly fell face first on the purple-blue bridge of light. Regardless of the change natured of the body, she still felt a wave of pain hit upon impact then permeate through her ‘body’, such that it was. Still, that was nothing compared to the searing pain that she felt around her right ankle.
The ‘Balrog’ had landed a hit with its whip and began pulling the comparatively tiny Pinkamena into the mass of demons. Now stationary, the chain demon similarly hit Pinkamena with a number of barbed hooks that pierced deep into her… well, whatever she was made of wasn’t flesh, but it still hurt and the number of objects piercing parts of her in places that usually would be fatal to pierce let her know she wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
Ask if they have a Snickers! Pinkie’s voice called out as the demons present began to revel in their victory and debate the exact nature and LENGTH of Pinkamena’s torture.
WE’RE GOING TO BE THE SNICKERS IF YOU DIDN’T NOTICE!
Oh, OH yeah… OH NO! Uh…uh… USE YOUR WARPER POWERS!
How exactly is that supposed to work?! Pinkamena grasped hold of one of the chains and grimaced as she took hold of the flaming whip in the other hand. While it was comforting that her hand wasn’t catching fire, in the conventional sense, she could still feel an incredible feeling of pain that let her know that this new form of pure consciousness wasn’t exactly indestructible. I just grab these and think ‘I wish I could just WARP you away?!’
Black-pink ripples of energy suddenly flowed from Pinkamena’s hands into the whip and chain. The Balrog’s whip suddenly unwrapped itself, and much to every entity’s surprise, snapped at the face of a female winged demon with a decided harpy bend, knocking its beaked head back has it hit it’s forehead forcefully.
This was nothing compared to the chaos caused by the chain demons chains, which were seemingly fired out of Pinkamena’s body BACK at all the demons which suffered a taste of their own bad medicine.
With an angry swipe, the Balrog lashed out at the chain demon with its vorpal blade which went snicker-snack through the neck of its ‘compatriot’. The chain demon now bereft of head, the blue body clattered to the ground in a mess of chains, it’s now detached head landing next to it, similarly buried in now motionless chains.
Yeppers! Pinkie responded chipperly. Now do that again!
Pinkamena dodged left and then right as the winged demon’s sword cleaved through the air where her face just was and then the Balrog’s sword sliced neatly through the spot she was just standing in. I DON’T SEE THAT PLAN WORKING A SECOND TIME AND ALSO EVERYTHING HURTS A LOT AFTER ALL THE PUNCTURE WOUNDS!
OooooooOOOOOOoooooOOOOh… Right, if you get hit enough more times you’ll cease to exist!
Thank you for telling me that, that’s very vital information I could have used a minute ago. Pinkamena felt the air grow hot and watched as the Balrog pointed finger at her. Her ‘body’ practically moving on its own accord, she ran and jumped, the air behind her exploding in a fiery blast as she fell ‘down’ onto another bridge.
A bridge that suddenly pulsated between fluorescent purple and blue as a deep whistled tone sounded out.
“This is Magistrate station number-3442!” A raspy feminine voice called out from… somewhere. Pinkamena glanced around, unable to determine the origin of the voice, but it sounded like it was outside her head.
We’re safe! The Pinkie voice chimed in triumphantly.
A massive wall of fire suddenly sprung up in between Pinkamena and the ‘future castle’ in the distance.
Not safe! NOT SAFE!
Pinkamena grimaced as the demons behind her either flew or jumped down to bridge she was on, this similarly resulted in the entire bridge flashing, though, this time the bridge flashed red and the tone had a decidedly negative tone to it. Much to Pinkamena’s surprise, this resulted in a somewhat pensive look amongst the demons as they stared out at the castle.
“Magistrates,” the head demon growled out through a sneer. He shot Pinkamena a raged filled look of frustration and raised his whip. “Quick it is, then—”
A wave of blue energy suddenly shot down the bridge and washed over Pinkamena and the demons all at once. OoooOOOOOooooOOO… tingly! The Pinkie voice commented as Pinkamena could feel herself ‘heal’ or regain a more solid basis for maintaining form for however things worked here.
The demons, meanwhile, were frozen in place as if they were all playing a very EXTREME version of red light-greenlight and moving more than their eyes was grounds for a loss. Despite the apparent inability to move anything, Pinkamena recognized an emotion surfacing in those glassy orbs.
Fear.
These supposed aristocrats of Hell were seemingly struggling against the notion that their fate was now completely out of their control.
“Ha ha HA!” the famine voice called out. “Wow, did YOU all fuck up, hard.”
Ahhh! Pinkie’s voice called out. I don’t want to be in trouble!
Pinkamena glanced at the gaggle of inert demons. “I don’t think she’s talking to us.”
“Hah! Well, demonstrably you did screw up! Hahahahaha!” The voice replied.
Pinkamena grimaced, partially because she hadn’t realized she was being listened to, partially at the word choice. However, there was a clear jovial quality to the voice that assured Pinkamena she was off the hook, at least she really, REALLY wanted to believe that.
“Just sit tight, little warper,” the voice called out. “Mr. J will see you in a second.”
Pinkamena could hear Pinkie gasp inside her head. Do you think she means Pheonix, Hamill, Tudyk. OH! Or maybe DiMaggio. The voice gasped again. Also, we’re a spirit so maybe it’s Ledger?!
Guessing she means a DIFFERENT Mr. J. otherwise the afterlife is way more messed up then anything from Dan’s planet or Equestria…
Dan’s world is basically made out of danger and Equestria has shape-changing creatures who cocoon ponies and feed on their love until they’re dead. Pinkie reminded.
Pinkamena sighed heavily. Don’t you ever hope for a nice, safe world, where life wasn’t seemingly granted to you on the whims of a confusing system of demi-gods, gods, an ever-changing cosmos, and not to mention your ‘peers’ who constantly need your help and have brought you closer to death than even our own random nature on more occasions than you care to admit?
Noper! Where would be the fun in that?
Just checking.
>~o~<
High above the commotion below, a bipedal woman regarded the holographic projection of the disturbance with a cat-like smile. Half-lidded azure eyes took one more moment to look over the cavalcade of deadly demons with a nearly hungry look on her face. A face with rounded features and rounded ears that peaked out from her blue hair. Blue hair that she was sitting on given it’s ‘down to her knees’ length. With a swat of a hand, she dismissed the image from her sight and stood up out of a black commander’s chair and brushed her bangs away from her eyes. Standing next to the chair, the woman was either quite short or favored massive chairs. Aside from that, she appeared ‘human’, accounting for dimensional variances in natural hair colors and skin tones, hers was a decidedly pale-pink tone, common amongst worlds with a limited range of skin colors and a yellow sun.
Additionally, she was wearing a black skin-tight outfit with a pulsing blue energy trim that highlighted her curves, or rather, her near-complete lack thereof. Despite her diminutive nature, she carried herself with the airs of someone who didn’t really have bad days just days where she gets to leave a slightly higher body count in her wake than usual. She casually strolled a few meters past a rather impressive console full of knobs, buttons, and more pulsating lines of various light and energy set in black walls and machinery. Her trip was a short one as she entered a dimly lit circular chamber and did a quick about-face and turned as a solid black door closed behind her with a soft ‘whoosh’. She looked up at a digital readout of numbers that quickly counted down from 123 down to 42 in a matter of seconds.
The doors of her lift opened revealing a chair much like the one the woman had been lounging in. She casually strolled around to the front to find a figure clothed in a thick black leather trench coat and large black boots. What little skin could be seen was a similar, if slightly darker color to the woman’s. Aside from the figure’s hands, which rested on their knees with the thumb and forefingers touching in a circle with the other three extended, only the skin around the nose was exposed. A black, compact respirator covered the mouth and nose. Long silver hair fell about the figure’s shoulder and a similarly colored bear flowed out from the respirator making the figure look like some sort of noir cyborg-wizard.
“Yo, Justice!” the woman called out.
Justice’s brown eyes opened, and ze looked down at women. “Hey, Aoi,” ze replied in a masculine tone.
Aoi smiled. “We’ve got local activity, right outside in fact.”
Justice seemingly blinked in confusion. “Someone came directly to the fortress?”
“Hah! I’m not sure it was intentional for most of them,” Aoi explained. “We’ve got a bunch of demons and a warper.” The smile changed to a smirk. “And it looks like the demons mean grievous harm to the warper with a capital ‘g’.”
The muscles under Justice’s eyes twitched as ze reached into zis pockets and began putting a pair of black gloves over zis hands. “What color.”
“Pink.”
Justice cringed slightly as he finished putting the left-handed glove on. “Lighter or darker?”
Aoi closed her eyes for a moment. “Feels a bit on the darker pink side.”
“So… Red?” Justice asked an almost hopeful tone.
Aoi opened her eyes so Justice could see the full rotation of her azure orbs in their sockets. “No, still a darker pink.” She smirked knowingly. “Would you be happier with a red Warper?”
Justice took a deep breath and let it out, zis respirator humming slightly as ze did. “No. I. Would. Not,” ze stated.
Aoi shrugged with both her palms and shoulders lightly. “Look, if you want me to handle this…”
Justice waved a gloved hand in the air. “No, no, I’m sure it’s important to be this close to an actual Magistrate Fortress.”
Aoi’s smirk returned. “Outside by the wall of fire. You can’t miss it.”
“On it.” With that, Justice extended zis index and middle fingers on his right hand and brought it up to his forehead. With a small pop, ze disappeared.
Aoi’s grin widened. “Serenity, show me this action,” she said into the darkness.
“Absolutely!” a chipper feminine voice answered her as an image displaying Pinkamena and the demons, who were now beginning to move ever so slightly, showed in front of the chair. With a slight jump, Aoi plopped herself down in the chair. “Oh, and refreshments, please!”
“You got it!” Serenity replied as a bag of popcorn and a cup with a lid and straw materialized in AOI’s hands.
Aoi’s expression changed to something so catlike, one could practically hear her purr. “This should be fun…”