#Apparently when I get super sleepy I ramble about animals

[aroroswritingblog]

Night Meeting

Hellooooo!!! This is my gift to @my-lazy-genius for the @aphgenficexchange! Sorry I’m so late, I couldn’t access my computer and then my Political Anthropology teacher fucked up my schedule by making me do a surprise essay :( Anyway, I chose to write about France and Japan meeting while playing Pokemon GO. Tbh while thinking about what to write I remembered that trivia in France’s Kitawiki page about him possibly being a sleepwalker. I hope you enjoy it and have a great day!!!!

Tbh I’m publishing this reeeeally late, so I’ll probably reread it in the morning to check if there are any grammar mistakes or anything like that.

Read on AO3

The soft light coming from the streetlights illuminated the park in front of him. It was completely open, it had never had a fence or anything like that, and as he entered the park Kiku only hoped he wouldn’t encounter anyone there. After all, explaining he was in a park at three in the morning because he was trying to catch a Dragonite would be kind of awkward, and just the type of conversation he didn’t want to have.

He kept walking towards the centre of the park. The silence was unsettling, but he kept going, resolved to find what he was looking for. When the Dragonite finally appeared in his radar, he immediately tried to capture it, but just when he threw the first Super Ball an unexpected sound made him turn around.

Another person stood in front of him, half hidden against a tree. A taller man wearing a flower-patterned hoodie (over what Kiku thought were pajamas) was looking at him like a deer in the headlights, and for a moment Kiku thought that he probably looked the same way.

Calculations ran through Kiku’s brain: whether he’d be able to outrun the other man, if he could win in a physical fight, how many people would be able to hear him if he screamed… But they all stopped when the man pointed at his phone.

“Uuuhh, Pokemon GO?”

The phone in the man’s other hand shone bright, showing a familiar map. Oh. So that was what he was doing. Okay, Kiku didn’t have any right to judge then, even if the man in front of him looked like a hobo who had just woken up. The hoodie didn’t hide his face completely, and it was easy to see some stubble and some strands of disheveled hair, even if he couldn’t see the color or anything else.

Kiku nodded, and then they stared at each other. In moments like this it was expected to make some sort of small talk, he was aware of that, but the night or the surprise had left his already awkward social skills frozen. And just like that, they were both completely silent, unable to look each other in the eye.

“Sorry if I scared you,” the man said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He talked with some sort of accent that Kiku couldn’t identify. “I was playing. Pokemon GO, I mean.”

“It’s okay,” he answered, keeping his face neutral.

A gust of wind reminded him that he was in a park at three in the morning for a reason, so he captured the Dragonite as fast as possible, not being able to ignore the other man’s stare. Once he had it, he put his phone on his jacket’s pocket.

“You got what you were looking for?” The other asked, resting against a tree and looking like he was going to fall asleep right there.

“Yes. Now that I captured it, I’m going to leave,” he answered, wanting to get out of the uncomfortable situation as soon as possible.

“Oh, of course, I’ll go soon too.” The blond said, leaving the tree. Looking directly at Kiku, he waved goodbye with his hand and smiled. It was obvious it was meant to look friendly, but the man’s obvious tiredness made it look stiff and awkward.

Without looking back, Kiku left the park and went home.

The next morning the memory looked more like a dream than something that had actually happened. The Dragonite in his app was the only proof that the night before had happened, and as much as he tried he couldn’t even remember the other man’s face.

It was Sunday. Free day. He could do whatever he wanted. He could stay at home catching up on all the anime he had missed, or finish reading the manga Feliciano and Ludwig had bought for him for his birthday. Or he could go back to the park to keep playing, which was what he actually wanted to do, even if the night before had been one of the most awkward moments of his life and the idea of repeating it made him want to disappear.

Honestly, the possibility of meeting that weird guy again was really low. And he had been playing Pokemon GO every day for three weeks, he couldn’t just break his streak. Making up his mind, he got dressed and ready to leave, putting on his jacket while he pressed the button for the elevator.

The moment the elevator’s doors opened he took a deep breath, and stepped inside. However, just when he was about to push the button a yell stopped him. He instinctively pushed the button to keep the doors open, and before he even knew what had happened, someone had run and slipped into the elevator with him.

“Thank you for holding the elevator, chéri,” a blond man stood next to him, smiling at him.

“You’re welcome,” Kiku answered, ignoring the “chéri”.

The man got a little closer, looking him up and down.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met, right?” The smile grew, looking interested. “I moved here a couple weeks ago, but I think I haven’t had the joy of meeting you yet.”

“I suppose not. I’m Kiku,” he kept glancing at the doors, waiting for them to open. His new neighbor was getting a bit too close to him, and there was something weird about him. Kiku couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but looking at his face made him feel strange. His clothes were elegant and looked expensive, if he had seen him before he would remember, right?

“My name is Francis, chéri. But now that I think about it, are you sure this is the first time we meet? I feel like I’ve seen you before, and I have a good memory for faces…” Showing no regard for personal space, Francis studied Kiku’s face, obviously concentrated.

The doors opened suddenly, and Kiku got out immediately, but Francis followed him, half-talking to him and half-talking to himself, not even thinking of leaving him alone.

“Do you have a dog? I think I saw you the other day. No, wait, that was another person. You know the bakery next to the library? I go there whenever I can, have you ever been there? Or maybe… Hey, is that Pokemon GO?” He suddenly stopped rambling when he saw the app Kiku had opened in his phone.

The realization of why he had recognized Francis hit him, and it felt like all the air of his lungs had decided to escape.

“You’re the hobo from the park,” he said, not bothering to think of how that sounded.

“What do you mean hobo?!”

“I mean, the man from the park. The one who was playing Pokemon GO at three in the morning.”

Francis stared, opening and closing his mouth, but unable to actually say anything. It wasn’t hard to see a lot of things were going through his head, and when his eyes widened Kiku knew he had been recognized too.

Making sure nobody was around, Francis leaned in to talk, as if sharing a secret.

“Don’t tell anyone! I can’t let anyone know!”

“Know what?” He asked, getting worried. Francis looked genuinely distressed, constantly checking nobody could hear them.

“That I get out at night. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

He seemed conflicted, as if trying to decide whether to say something else or not. But eventually he keep talking.

“I’m a sleepwalker. Sometimes I wake up in other places, like the stairs, or… well, the park.”

“Is that why you looked so sleepy?”

“Yes, it’s a bit disorienting waking up in a completely different place. So sometimes I just… play Pokemon GO for a while before going home. Otherwise I’m too tired to move. Just don’t tell anyone, please.”

Processing everything he had just heard was hard, and he wasn’t even sure how he had gotten in the current situation. But, even if they hardly knew each other, he didn’t want Francis to get more nervous.

“You don’t need to worry, I won’t tell anyone about your sleepwalking.”

“Really?” Francis looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally breathe.

“Really.”

“Thank you, mon ami!” Francis slung an arm around Kiku’s shoulders, bringing him closer. “I’m glad to know I can trust you.”

“It’s okay.” This time he didn’t even bother trying to get the other man away from him, apparently he was glued to him now.

“Can I invite you to a coffee or anything to thank you? I know an exquisite coffee shop, and there are a lot of Pokestops in the way.”

The answer was… not clear. Kiku didn’t tend to accept invitations to hang out with people he hardly knew, and if it ended up being half as awkward as the night in the park, he was probably gonna wish the ground would swallow him. But Francis was looking at him with the biggest smile he had ever seen (and not even a flirtatious one, just a genuinely happy one), and he really didn’t want to take that away.

“I guess that could be a good idea,” he answered.

Francis let go of his shoulders, only to grip his arm and drag him towards their destiny, already talking about what type of coffee they should get and whether they’d be close enough to the library’s Gym to battle the Pokemon there.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (56/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous Chapters conveniently available here

[9 June 236 Before Age.  Hobstot III.]

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑤)

"It’s better this way.  You gave a merry chase, arachnoid, but it will be I, Koda Shibike, who pens the final chapter of your career, bounty hunter."

"I... beg your pardon?"

Dr. Topsas had awoken to find all eight of his limbs chained to the floor of a room he had never seem before.  The last thing he recalled was a bookstore on Hobstot III, where he and his friend Zatte had been ambushed by a very eccentric gunman.  He had been shot, but the ammunition in question was a dart shaped like the nib of a fountain pen, and the tip was coated in some sort tranquilizer.  It was a primitive, inefficient weapon with a limited range, but the shooter’s agility and precise movements had managed to compensate.

Topsas had grown somewhat accustomed to danger.  He had been on Extraliga when the Wist invasion began, and then he had been captured and detained in a prison camp run by fairies.  These and other adventures were precipitated by his association with the Super Saiyan Luffa.   Naturally, he assumed his captor was connected to her in some way.

But apparently not.  This man, Shikibe, seemed to have Dr. Topsas confused with someone else.  Under different circumstances, Topsas might have found it amusing to be mistaken for a dangerous bounty hunter.  Earlier, Zatte had explained to him that her species had evolved blue skin and bright red hair to serve as a warning to potential predators, but this was in fact a biological bluff.    Dorluns like Zatte weren’t actually poisonous, but their coloration was meant to mimic some other life forms who were.    Now, Topsas had found himself dealing with the flip side of that natural defense.    Shikibe had misidentified the doctor as a threat, and instead of avoiding him, he had chosen to attack.

"It is my great pleasure to defy those in power," Shikibe rambled on.  "Society frowns upon my penchant for hunting and killing your kind.  They demand that I cease, and I, Koda Shikibe, refuse.  My editors demand that I draw original work instead of recolors of existing characters,  but I, Koda Shikibe, refuse."

"From where I stand, Mr. Shikibe, the one in power is you," Topsas replied gently.  "Would you believe me if I told you that I am a physician, and not a bounty hunter?"

"A pointless, desperate ruse."

Topsas regarded the man carefully.  He was humanoid, rather pale in complexion, though it was difficult to be certain of his natural coloration because of all the green cosmetics he was wearing.  His hair looked like a pile of leaves clipped from a fake plant from a waiting room in one of Topsas' old offices.  Around his forehead, Shikibe wore what might be generously called a 'headband', although it appeared to have been crafted from construction paper.  His pants were loose and baggy, while his shirt was comically undersized, barely covering his upper abdomen.

It was far too little to make an accurate diagnosis, but Topsas was beginning to suspect that the man was suffering from some kind of mental illness.  Perhaps some of his unusual behavior could be explained away as alien cultural pratices, but not all of it.  

At best, Shikibe had constructed an elaborate paranoid fantasy in which he was a fugitive murder.

At worst, Shikibe really was a fugitive murderer.

As things stood, Topsas wasn’t sure there was much of a difference.

"Very well," Topsas said evenly.  "Let us suppose that I am this bounty hunter, although I deny it.  How did you capture me so easily?"

"Your cover was admittedly brilliant," Shikibe said.  "But you failed to consider the power of my Thoughtform."

"Thoughtform?"

Koda laughed.  "On my homeworld of Abaj, everyone has the ability to generate physical manifestations of their mental energy.  Each has its own unique powers."

He paused, and then without warning he cried out:  "Dr. Feelgood!"

Suddenly, a ghostly figure emerged from his body and stood beside him.  Topsas recognized this as the sniper who had attacked him and Zatte in the bookstore.  It vaguely resembled its master, although it looked more like a robot wearing a wide-brimmed hat and cradling an old-fashioned rifle.

"You rang?" it asked cordially.

"This was the creature that shot us," Topsas said.

"The gun and ammunition are all part of my thoughtform," Shikibe said proudly.  It raised its hand, revealing a set of claws on its fingertips which resembled the nibs of fountain pens.  Shikibe plucked one of them off and admired its appearance.

"I am an artist above all else," he boasted.  "The appearance of Dr. Feelgood is an outward manifestation of the creative storm that constantly rages within me.    Just as ink from my pen infuses my aesthetic onto the blank page, anyone struck by these darts will fall under my influence."

"That fellow you shot in the bookstore," Topsas said.  "He went berserk.  I thought the dart was drugged, but it seems to have had no such effect on myself."

"The darts were drugged, not with chemicals, but rather a psychic energy which I can control," Shikibe explained.  "There are limits depending on the biology of the target, but it’s a simple matter to induce extreme drowsiness in almost any life form."

He glared at Topsas, then pointed at him, and all at once Topsas felt a profound weariness come upon him.  He couldn’t remember having ever been so sleepy.

"There, you see?" Shikibe asked.  "The effects of the dart will fade over time, but until they do, I can make you as sleepy as a college student cramming for final exams."

And just when Topsas thought he would finally nod off, the effect was lifted, and he was suddenly as awake and alert as he had been a moment ago.  He then realized that this was how he had woken up in this place.  It was an unsettling experience to say the least.

"So you rendered me unconscious and brought me here," Topsas said.  "To what end?  And what have you done with Zatte?"

"Whom?" Shikibe asked idly.

"The lady," replied Dr. Feelgood.

"Ah, the blue woman with the red hair," Shikibe said.  His voice was practically dripping with resentment towards those colors, as if they had personally wronged him somehow.  

"If you say so, chief," Dr. Feelgood said.  "Everyone just looks kind of grey to me."

"Fortunately, I can correct that oversight when I capture her likeness in sketches," Shikibe said.

"Sketches?" Topsas asked incredulously.  "You mean to tell me that you brought us here to draw pictures of us?"

"Don’t be absurd," Shikibe scoffed.  "I brought her here to use as a reference for my sketches.  I brought you here so that I can kill you and use your bodily fluids to blend green pigments for my work.  But I find that my models are more cooperative when I take hostages."

Topsas was doing his best to remain calm, but he felt his pedipalps begin to quiver with unease.  If Shikibe noticed, he didn’t show it.  The Abajian simply turned and walked away.

"First, I must perform my daily finger stretches," he announced to no one in particular.  "Then I must alphabetize my collection of Fabian Fitzroy paper sleeves.  Discipline above all."

As he opened the door to leave, he flipped a switch on the wall, activating a second set of lights in the room.  Topsas thought nothing of this at first, but then he heard a low mumble, and noticed Zatte sitting in a chair twenty feet away.

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑥)

"He sounds like an idiot," Zatte groaned after Topsas informed her of their situation.  "I almost wish he was one of Luffa’s enemies.  At least then there’d be a clear motive for all of this."

"Whatever his motive, we appear to be at his mercy," Topsas said.  "Apparently the only reason I’m alive is so that you’ll sit still for his portraits."

"Sit still?" Zatte grumbled.  "I can barely move in this chair.  He’s got me trussed up with... wait, this stuff feels like fishing line."

Topsas lowered his head as he looked at the bonds holding Zatte’s ankles to the legs of the chair.    "Yes, now that you mention it, I believe it is fishing line.  But you should be able to break free of that easily."

Zatte struggled, but found she could do nothing.  "It’s no good," she said, gasping with exhaustion from the effort.  "He... must have... done something to me with... his powers."

"That is distressing to say the least," Topsas said.

"Pretty sure he only tied me to this chair to keep me from falling off of it," Zatte said after catching her breath.  "At least he let me keep my clothes on."

"Is the chair bolted down?" Topsas asked.  Perhaps if you could move closer we might--"

"Maybe he just wants to draw my face," Zatte mused.  "It’s kind of flattering, really.  If he would have just asked me, I might have paid him for a copy.  Maybe given that to Luffa.  Beats looking around all day for a gift."

"Ms. Zatte..."

"I don’t know, she probably wouldn’t get it," Zatte said.  "'I see you all the time, Zattie, what do I need a drawing for?'  She has a really stunted sense of imagination, you know?"

"Ms. Zatte, are you feeling all right?"

"Heh.  I guess I could get somebody to draw me in the buff.  'Here, honey, something to keep you warm on those lonely nights on the training ground.  Hee hee hee!  She’d be mortified!"

"Zatte, can you hear me?"

"No, no no.  I have to think of something else.  It’s kind of weird giving someone a picture of yourself as a gift, right? Right?  Yeah.  Wow.  Oh, right.  I can hear you, doctor.  What’s wrong?"

"I think our 'host' has done more to you than merely sapping your strength," Topsas said.

"Right, sorry," she said.  "You’re right.  I feel a little light-headed.  Maybe it’s from trying to break free a minute ago.  Remember that?  That was weird.  Heh.  Don't worry, doctor.  I’ve been in worse spots than this.  We’ll get out of this."

"I fail to see how."

"We Dorluns are survivors, Doctor.  The first step is to take stock of your resources.  I've got you, and you've got me.  This--heh!--power Shikibe has over me is canceling out my ki, making me so weak I can barely move.   But I bet I can still make myself invisible."

She concentrated, in spite of the inebriating effects of Shikibe's power.  Each Dorlun had a unique ability which manifested at a certain age.  Zatte doubted that Shikibe could block this without knowing more about her species.  She mentally added that to her inventory of potential resources.  When she was reasonably sure she had warped the light all the way around herself, she asked the doctor: "Can you see me?"

"Not at all.  Nor can I see what possible good that does us," Topsas said in a despondent voice.  

"It's just a test," Zatte explained.  "If my power still works, that means I should be able to manipulate other forms of energy as well.  Like the heat from these light fixtures.   If I could focus it all onto a piece of this fishing line I'm wrapped up in, then I might be able to melt it."

"And then what?" Topsas asked.  "Weak as you are, you'd still be unable to act.  You'd merely slide out of that chair, as you said before."

"One problem at a time, doctor," Zatte said.

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑦)

"All I'm saying is that maybe this doesn't make a lot of sense."

Koda Shikibe considered these words carefully as he flexed his fingers one by one, then shook his head.  "Impossible.  My scheme makes perfect sense."

His thoughtform, Dr. Feelgood, stood beside him as they spoke.  "You keep killing all those arachnoids and taking their money," he said patiently.  "Now they send this bounty hunter after us to get revenge, right?  Only he says he's not a bounty hunter, which makes a lot of sense, seeing as he barely put up a fight when we caught him."

"He's a bounty hunter," Shikibe insisted.  "His people hired him to take revenge.  They see what I've done as mere crimes.  Bah!"  

He walked across the room to his desk, where he picked up a severed forelimb that had once belonged to an arachnoid.  As he continued speaking, he caressed it lovingly.  "I killed those creatures for the sake of ART, and nothing more!  To be sure, I did help myself to their financial accounts, and the art I produced from their deaths was popular enough to afford me a few creature comforts, such as this limited edition collection of Magical Girl figurines."  He took a hobby knife from his desk and waved it at a shelf containing his prized collection, then he pointed it at Feelgood.

"Look, I'm sorry--" the thoughtform said, beggaring off.

"The truth is that I do none of this for mere money, or any sort of sadistic pleasure.  My one goal is to further the progression of my art, so that it may be consumed and appreciated across the entire universe.  And there is only one way to do that, and that is to use the hemolymph of arthropodic life forms, and why is that?"

"Uh... I don't know," the robot said.  

"For the COLOR, you uncultured boor," Shikibe said.  He turned to his desk and stabbed the knife into a small spider that happened to be crawling upon its surface, then he turned back to the robot to show him the creature now impaled on the blade.  "Hemolymph brings out the perfect shade of green for lips, hair, clothing, anything at all!  Lesser artists may rely on cheap reds and blues, buying pedestrian art supplies made from common mineral pigments, or worse, hobbling along with digital media.  But I refuse!  No, I, Koda Shikibe will not be held back by abstractions like 'morality' or 'color theory' or 'common sense'.  If a thousand thousand sentient beings must die for the sake of my art, then so be it!"  

With that, Shikibe sat down at his desk and began to brood.  He put his heels on the edge of his seat and placed his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers in a contemplative pose that looked very profound, or very awkward, depending on one's point of view.   It might have looked more dignified if he weren't staring at the severed forelimb on his desk.  

"I'm just saying that while we deal with these two, we might be leaving ourselves open to an attack by a real bounty hunter," Feelgood said.   "Either way, it's probably not safe to stay here.  We should be packing up and looking for a new hideout, not sketching alien space babes."

"It's vital that I complete my sketches," Shikibe replied.  "You're an extension of my own consciousness.  You should understand this implicitly."

Feelgood shrugged.  

"I require inspiration for my latest comic, Charmy Green Lad," Shikibe explained impatiently.  "The character designs must be flawless--!"

"I thought you just traced over other people's characters and changed the colors around, though," Feelgood said.  

"Once I have captured the woman's likeness, we can kill her and the bounty hunter, harvest the bounty hunter's hemolymph, and then we may prepare to relocate," Shikibe insisted.  "I refuse to consider any other sequence of events."

"Okay, okay," the thoughtform said.  "Let's just hurry up and get on with this."

"I refuse," Shikibe said stubbornly.  He raised his hands and began flexing his fingers once again.   "First I must finish my stretches."

*******

(Dr. Feelgood, Part ⑧)

An hour had passed.  Zatte felt she was making progress, but at a very slow pace.  The problem was that the lighting in the room was very efficient, and produced very little ambient heat for her to work with.  Her next best choice was to use the heat from her own body, but this presented an entirely different challenge. By focusing too much heat into a specific part of her body at once, she risked burning herself.  Conversely, channeling that much heat at once meant drawing it away from the rest of her body.  She could draw additional heat from the air around her, but it was a tricky balancing act under the best of circumstances.  As it was, the intoxicating effects of Dr. Feelgood made it nearly impossible.  

Fortunately, she had a few things working in her favor.  First, there was a doctor just a few yards away, so if she ended up with frostbitten toes and second degree burns on her fingers, at least she wouldn't have to go far for treatment.  

Second, there was that thrill she always experienced whenever she was in danger.  Her own culture frowned on enjoying these kinds of life-threatening situations, but she had a certain perverse appreciation for the way they honed her skills and focused her wits.  Right now, she needed all the focus she could get.  

Third, she had faith that Providence hadn't allowed her to live this long only to die here in the lair of some hipster serial killer.  Months ago, Zatte had been blessed with an epiphany, and realized that her fiancée was an important part of the Divine Plan--a xan'nil-Dor.  The Dorluns survived so that whenever they encountered these people and places of destiny, that they would be able to help them in some small way.  Luffa herself was skeptical of this, but that wasn't without precedent.  Privately, Zatte sometimes wondered if she might be wrong, but the epiphany had been too profound to reject.  At any rate, it was an excellent motivator.

Fourth, she had convinced Dr. Topsas to keep her talking while she worked.  Initially, this was just a ruse to keep the doctor's mind off his own fear.  But Zatte had to admit that she probably would have gotten distracted several times by now if she had been in this situation alone.  

They didn't know each other very well, at least aside from their mutual acquaintance through Luffa.  Fortunately, the Saiyan made a good topic of conversation.  For the last twenty minutes, they had been discussing the theological implications of a Super Saiyan xan'nil-Dor.  Topsas was respectful about it, but Zatte could tell he was unconvinced.  The important thing was that he kept her mind off the droplets of moisture condensing on her face as her body slowly dehumidified the room.  

"So what was the problem with the dolls?"  Topsas asked.  

"Huh?"

"In the bookstore, before we were captured, I suggested you give Ms. Luffa one of those dolls as a gift, for her collection," Topsas explained.  "You seemed to think this was a blind alley."

"Oh, right.  I forgot all about that," Zatte said, somewhat unsettled by the weary sound of her own voice.  "Ha.  I'm a liiiitle flighty right now, doctor."

"Yes, which was why you asked me to keep talking to you.  I have done my best, but I find myself running out of things to talk about."

"Okay, okay.  Okay," Zatte said.  "First of all, they're not 'dolls'.  They're action figures.  Luffa's very touchy about that.  Second of all.  Yeah.  Uh... third of all, she already has the whole set.   Pretty much."

"I see."

"I mean, there weren't that many toys in the line anyway.  They made that stupid movie about her, what?  Last year?  She's had plenty of time to track 'em all down.  I mean, there's 'collector variants', whatever that means.  Basically I can get her the same Rax Cosmo toy she already has, only with a maroon vest instead of blue."  She winced as she felt too much heat gather in her left wrist.  It was relatively easy to disperse it throughout her arm, but it always took far too long.  "Besides, the toys are all a joke to her anyway."

"A joke?"

"I mean, you played with toys, right?  The whole entire main point is to play out fantasy scenarios.  It prepares kids for the real world, y'know?"

"Now that you mention it, I had a doctor bag when I was small," Topsas said.  "The equipment was all made of plastic, and I was a bit frustrated that none of it really worked, but the items fascinated me all the same."

"That's what I'm talking about.   That's it.  Exactly," Zatte slurred.  "When I was little, my uncle carved some dolls out of wood for me.  Dolls, doctor.  I'm not ashamed to call them that."

"Of course, Ms. Zatte."

"Not like some people."

"I take your point."

"Some people named Luffa."

"What did you do with these dolls, Ms. Zatte?" Topsas pressed.  

"I used to paint clothes on them," Zatte said.  "Then I'd have them be soldiers.  I used to make forts out of old buckets and pots, and then station them all around it.  I'd pretend there was a xan'nil-Dor in the fort, and our company was in charge of protecting it at all costs."

"Interesting," Topsas observed.  

"Anywayyyyy, Luffa never had toys growing up.  Her mother would fight her and tell her stories, but that was about it.  Kind of sad, really.  So these toys they made about her, she just thinks they're funny because they're based on that movie, which is just a made-up version of her life that never really happened.  There's nothing inspirational about 'em.  Not to her."

"Ah, I think I understand the problem now," Topsas said.  "You've been looking for a gift that Luffa will find inspirational, like the soldiers and castles of your youth."

"Well, yeah... That'd be great.  Swelllll.   But where in the hell am I supposed to find--?"

"He's coming back," Topsas said suddenly.  

Zatte glanced at the door.  She wasn't ready.  If Shikibe figured out what she was doing, he might decide to kill them both without delay.  

For a split second, she wondered if Topsas might have been imagining things, but then she heard a click from the vicinity of the door's handle, and a droplet of condensed moisture ran down the side of her face.  

NEXT: Thus Spake Koda Shikibe

*******

[9 June 236 Before Age.  Luffasworld.]

"Are you okay?" Keda asked.  

Luffa sniffled a few times and held her hand over her nose.  "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, kid," she said.  "Just had a sneezing fit all of a sudden."

"Must be some kind of allergen in the air around here," Keda said.   "Anyway, if you're done, I can get back to my song."

Luffa stood up and looked around the prairie for any sign of suspicious flowers, but decided there wasn't much point in worrying about it.  She could always pick up her training on some other part of the planet.  This region was pleasant enough, but she hardly needed a scenic view for pushups.  

"What'd you call it again?" Luffa asked.

"The Egg Song," Keda said proudly.  "Starts off like this... ahem..."

Luffa went to find a towel to wipe her face while Keda prepared to start.  

"Deviled, deviled, devillllled... Pickled, pickled, pickllllled... Scrambled, scrambled, scrambllllled... Coddled, Coddled, Coddllllled..."

"Wait, hold on," Luffa interrupted.  "Isn't this the same tune as 'The Liver and Onions Song'?"

"Yeah," Keda said.  "I'm trying out different words.  I figure eggs will have more mainstream appeal."

Luffa considered this for a moment, then nodded in approval.  "Damn, kid, you're some kind of marketing genius.  I don't know how you figure this stuff out, but I'm impressed."

"Thanks," Keda said.

Luffa sat down on the ground and gestured for her to continue.  

[<=To Be Continued....]