[Writing] Taking Out the Trash

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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Sun Jul 12, 2020 11:44 pm

Going to be pretty busy this week at the office, so I won't be able to work on the story this week. And on that note, it's getting to the point where I'm going to have to split what content I have into an extra chapter if I want to make any progress...

Anyway, yeah. See y'all when I get back.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Thu Aug 06, 2020 8:48 am

*sigh*

Really didn't want to have to do this, but the story's on hold for now. Sorry to anyone who was reading this, but with my mind being what it is I just don't have any choice at present. :(
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Mon Aug 24, 2020 11:03 pm

...Huh. So, somehow I was able to continue writing again. And somehow, everything happening at Maddhouse's expense is causing the story to try and get away from me: there's going to be more chapters than I'd planned. ()^_^

Barring something like an onslaught of rush orders at the office, I might be able to have something done by the end of the week. Just have to wait and see.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Tue Aug 25, 2020 12:44 pm

Okay, I seriously have to laugh right now. I say I'll have something up at the end of the week, and it ends up finished this morning. Amazing. :lol:

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Taking Out the Trash
Chapter Six

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"...Can't believe I'm finding myself agreeing with them," Marc growled, increasingly annoyed at how everything was going the wrong way. "That song fits Muffinville a little too well."

"Is there some way we could end this nonsense, boss?" his best man rumbled, idly scratching at his chin stubble. "We don't have time to delay any further and hope the situation works itself out on its own. It's pretty far gone now."

"That we don't. Circe, see if you can keep those kids off our backs," Marc suggested, surveying their surroundings to see who would make the biggest targets of opportunity.

Circe turned to follow suit, briefly glancing over Callista, the Harrison children and Amber, then off towards the lobby where Missy and Viridi were having their spat. "Which ones?"

"Pretty sure I'm more adult than you!" Amber cat-called, pronounced canines sticking past her lip.

None of them paid the comment any mind. Marc pointed out Elk and Ellen, the latter staring him down without fear and the former striking assorted poses in time with the music while uttering the odd non-sequitor. "Those two. The Metallium girl can keep for now, and I have the equipment needed to keep the rest of them at bay. The files I have on the kids tell me that they could be the largest monkey wrench present. If you can stall or incapacitate them, that would be wonderful."

"I'll do what I can," Circe informed him, rolling her shoulders to loosen them up, "but I warn you now that Ellen's capable of fighting me on even terms. The chances of me winning a fight against her are 50% at best. And don't even get me started on Elk."

Elk spun in place like a top, arms held out perpendicular to each other. "Forbidden Zone, Forbidden Zone, Chaos Emeralds ahoy!"

"...Noted. Just stall them, then," Marc allowed. "That should be enough time to call my mercenaries on in..." He brought out his smartphone... and snarled when he saw what was almost an alien symbol to him. "The #$#%?"

"Something wrong, boss?" his best man inquired.

"Phone's telling me that there's no reception," Marc bit out, showing the screen to the two of them. "Which is complete and utter bull, since my company's coverage has ensured flawless coverage anywhere in Muffinville for the past decade."

Circe shrugged. "Maybe they're just doing maintenance on the towers, or something?"

Marc shook his head. "That can't be right. If there's any work to be done on my hardware, I set up all of that myself. If they needed to repair or look over anything, I would be the first to know---"

"Boss! Boss!"

Marc and Circe turned to one of the entrances... and did a prompt triple-take. The person rushing into the room was a mirror image of Marc's best man, clad in nothing but an undershirt and a pair of blue boxer shorts. "Someone's infiltrated the---" his eyes locked onto his double. "YOU!"

An eyebrow raised. "Me. Your point?"

"You chucked me into a closet and stole my clothes, you crazy chick!" the man shouted.

It didn't take much to get the facts organized. Circe grimaced and averted her eyes, blushing even as she muttered to Marc: "If you're not thinking that we had been sabotaged before the ceremony even began..."

"Oh, trust me. I am. How about it, Dean?" Marc challenged his 'best man'. "If that's even your real name?"

The fake turned to Marc, obviously wondering what to say in the face of this accusation. After a moment he shrugged and smiled, his form shifting to something younger and more feminine briefly before melting down and losing much of its height. "I realize people have trouble --telling which I am, but just to clear the air: I've always been male,"-- he said, switching to telepathy when it became physically impossible for him to speak normally.

In seconds, what was once a man had changed to an Umbreon, which stuck its tongue out at both men and darted away, leaving only an empty suit behind. A Shadow Ball that exploded against the floor close by discouraged any pursuit, and a blur of afterimages enabled him to evade the hasty shot from Marc's sidearm.

Circe scowled as the best man fumed. "It's just one thing after another today. It's not enough that Callista's faction has to get involved, but the Shadow Gang is out in force too. It doesn't answer where Shiver is, though."

"You've known them for a while," Marc said, holstering his gun as he glared at the spot Swift had stood a minute before. "Any special weaknesses we can exploit?"

"For Ambush or Callista?"

"Both, preferably."

Circe thought back on what she knew about them both. Something deep in her mind twitched as if in protest, but was quickly silenced. "Ambush is vulnerable to iron, whether it's cold or not. He's not too fond of electricity either. Callista's just as dangerous if she's underestimated, but she's poor at keeping her head level in the face of distractions."

Marc smiled. What he was thinking about, she didn't know. "Lucky you, I've got a few somethings that should deal with them both downstairs. Cover for me while I retrieve them."

A nod. "Mind being quick about it? We still need to get to City Hall before it closes." She glared at Dean, still blushing. "And for crying out loud, you shameless freak, get your suit on! No one wants to see that!"

"What did you just call---"

"Just listen to her, get yourself out of here, and get dressed," Marc told him coldly. "Then prepare for a counterattack. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said with a nod, picking up his clothes and making tracks for the closest restroom.

Circe rolled her eyes, shaking her head before removing her white gloves and focusing her magic. Both of her arms turned a light gray, shifting in composition and size to something more grotesque. "Alright, let's get this over--" Her eyes drifted over the place where Amber had been previously... with emphasis on had been. "--with, and where the h%@$ did Ambush take off to?"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Dean hustled into the restroom, his suit bundled in his arms. Thankfully no one was around to wonder why he was in his current state, which was great since he didn't want to have to explain his situation to anyone. Through one of the walls, he could hear someone swearing as something metallic clattered to the floor in the next restroom over. "Blasted girls, blasted women, blasted everything in the world wanting to make the situation worse," he growled as he hurriedly got ready. "I swear, once I'm dressed I'm going to---"

"EEEEEEEK!"

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin at the ear-splitting screech, and for a half-second he wondered if he'd wandered into the wrong restroom before remembering otherwise. He turned his head just enough to see the gray skin, black hair and playful visage of the Harrisons' matriarch. "You're not funny," he stated. "Nowhere close. Our file was right; you really don't have any sense of privacy."

Amber shrugged unapologetically. "I'm a cat. Do I look like I care one whit for that sort of thing?"

"You'll be caring a lot more for privacy after today," Dean stated, tightening his belt, "but that's assuming you'll be in any condition to care at all!" He snapped up his hand, slinging an electric burst at Amber's face as per Circe's recommendation---

---only for the burst to pass through Amber's head harmlessly and extinguish itself against the wall. Dean had just enough time to utter a truncated "What the #%" before the woman grinned nastily and pointed her left fingertips at him. "Fulminus venite!"

With no room for him to maneuver the Thunderbolt she fired caught Dean squarely in the chest, electrifying him briefly before dropping him to the floor. It wouldn't do him any lasting harm, not at her level of strength compared to his, but it would keep him out of action for the rest of the showdown. "I love being able to bypass the four-move restriction," 'Amber' admitted smugly, her appearance adjusting itself until it matched the purple-haired young woman who had dropped off Ezekiel at the Hasano home. She beamed, her voice near-squealing as she all but danced in place. "And I've always wanted to say that when using Thunderbolt!"

"Glad you're having fun," Ambush Cat said, his mouth appearing on one of the overhead light covers. "Mission accomplished, Shiver. Rejoin with your team and head on out. Pick up Ezekiel at seven as agreed on. I'll catch up with you back home and treat you three to fruit punch."

Shiver waved at the mouth in confirmation. "Gotcha, boss. See you later!" Having no further need to maintain a solid illusion, she reverted back to her normal Mismagius self--having hovered no higher than mid-torso on a normal human--and flew through the walls out of the room.

The mouth detached itself from the light cover and hovered just over Dean's face... then vomited out a monochromatic energy beam that enveloped him entirely. As it shone brightly, becoming blinding, Ambush's disembodied voice took on a tone that wouldn't have been out of place coming from Dr. Drakken. "Around and around it goes, what he'll turn into, who knows~? EH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA~!"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"...Let's not worry about it: Dean knows what he's doing. There's no shortage of iron around here, and he can generate his own electricity. If Ambush is as easy to stop as you say, that should be all there is to it. My armaments have the appropriate measures needed to stop the remaining outliers, I can put down Metallium if she wins her current battle, then we can both take the cats' children out of the picture."

Marc smiled disarmingly, though with as messed up a face as his was, it was a look only a mother could love... and even then she'd have to receive payment for it. "So, how about it? Are you ready for a day and night you won't soon forget?"

To this day, people still swear that Circe's response to this statement caused the fabric of reality to rattle, knowing that there was a violation with the natural order; granted that was just their imagination, but since something similar had happened in "The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy" they couldn't be blamed for it. One of the facets of the Muffin Continent's Blue energy is that it transformed people into lesbians (much to Callista's blatant disgust and Bahija's even more blatant enjoyment). While it was tempered by the yandere-ish and violent Orange energy she also possessed, Circe was no exception to that rule: she had zero romantic interest in men, and prior to her unexpected engagement to Marc there'd been no signs of her wavering.

She smiled, face softening. "Looking forward to it."

"Boundaries, --------s!" Zapana bellowed, her profanity lost beneath some ear-piercing feedback through the speakers.

The light-heartedness didn't last too long as Circe frowned in Zapana's direction. "Though if this is what my wedding looks like, I'm almost afraid to see the honeymoon."

Marc placed a reassuring hand on her; she flinched, and her breath hissed through her teeth even as she kept her smile. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring---

"Hands off of my Lady before I remove them myself," Claire de Loon interjected warningly, getting into their faces. Cold fury burned in her eyes, and in one hand she wielded a slightly-curved steel pipe that looked like it had been taken from one of the handicapped-accessible restrooms.

The air was still for several tense seconds before Marc slowly moved his hand away, his face souring quickly. For her part, Circe shook her head and decided that she needed to take her over-zealous servant down a peg. "I'm fully capable of handling myself, thank you," she told her. "It's too dangerous for you to be here now. Get the rest of your co-workers together and return to the Manor straight away."

Claire didn't budge. "Your safety is not assured, my lady. Think of your own before you think about ours."

"That was not a suggestion." Circe's eyes met Claire's meaningfully. "Leave immediately, Claire. I will not have your disobedience now on top of everything else going on. You have a spotless record to match your work ethic; do you really want to change that?"

"Doing one's job is not a sign of disobedience," Claire reminded her. "Disposing of garbage was one of the things you hired me for."

Once again, something in Circe's subconscious twitched only to be shut off. "My future husband is not trash!"

"Permit me to defend myself, sweetheart. This is treading into dangerous territory," Marc smoothly cut in, idly straightening his collar. Circe, who had once gotten ticked off by one of Muffinville's most notorious irritants for repeatedly calling her something similar, smiled and allowed him to step forward.

"No amount of self-defense is going to change the fact that you're trespassing in my Lady's life," Claire hissed, hair and eyes flickering black, "you filthy slimebucket-wearing swine."

Marc slowly shook his head. "Tsk, tsk... you really want a reality check?"

Those words were Claire's only warning before one of Marc's hands struck like a snake, catching her across the throat and causing her to drop her pipe. One of his fingernails managed to leave a scratch on her neck in passing, but Marc's aim had been to stun her long enough to edge his arm around her and slam her to the floor.

For a third time, something triggered in Circe's mind at the display only to be stifled. Marc stood back and dusted off his hands, his voice the epitome of arrogance as he aimed his gun between Claire's shoulders. "Uppity little maid, your insurrection isn't going to stop me," he declared quietly, voice just barely heard over her pained gasps. "Face it: I'm her future, and Aryu-Madd Tech's going to be yours. Live with it... or don't. It's not my problem." He started to pull the trigger---

A white and red laser beam diced his gun into pieces at that precise moment, destroying both the weapon and the ammunition within and startling Marc into dropping the debris. "What?!" he barked as he and Circe turned to ascertain the cause.

"...If that's the case, the future's looking incredibly ugly," Ellen commented from the reception area, the card she'd flung held between her fingers. "...In all seriousness, you look like a dairy cow eating a hamburger. Your very existence is cannibalistic, and you have the gall to say it tastes like chicken."

"What did you just call me?!" Callista screeched, the Machamp-lady she'd been fighting getting blasted by a Hyper Voice. Some of the onlookers covered their ears.

Ellen glanced at Callista through her peripheral vision, a twitch of her fingers giving away her annoyance. "...Simmer down, Metallium. I wasn't talking to you."

"I heard it!" Callista's hands were flying at high speed, deflecting a flurry of punches from her opponent as she recovered. "I distinctly heard you call me a cow! Don't deny it!"

"...Just focus on your spat, cat," Ellen rebuked her. She mentally chided herself for letting Callista distract her. "...My own fault for trying to use a Far Side ref---"

A clawed hand twice Ellen's size slapped her in mid-sentence, sending her spinning into and through an unoccupied table. A few of the on-lookers winced, expecting Amber to make her thoughts known violently, but strangely nothing came of that.

...

"I don't really want to do this, Ellen," Circe warned as she approached, her arm shrunk back to normal. "But if you're going to keep me from being with the love of my life, then I'm sure your mother would understand."

"...There are so many things wrong with those sentences, I don't have time to tally them all." Ellen accepted Eebon's help getting to her feet, brushing something off of her thoroughly undamaged dress. There wasn't even a mark on her. "...If you have an ounce of common sense in you, you will rescind them and leave that waste of space behind."

A vein on Circe's temple pulsed. "You've yet to fall in love, so don't tell me I don't know what it feels like. I've been thirsty for adoration from someone worthy, and he's my best shot at getting it. So go away, go home, and stop turning my dream into a nightmare!"

Ellen sighed softly, shaking her head. "...Suit yourself, lovebug." She snapped her fingers. "...Elk? You hear what she said? She's thirsty."

Circe whipped her head around as she heard a gulping noise. Elk was at the drink tables, in the middle of guzzling down a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. Her eyes widened, her dress shifted to a very light blue-white, and she snapped off a freezing blast at him---

"PEPSI MAAANNNN!"

Too late. Before, Elk had been in a nifty black suit and tie. When next Ellen blinked, her brother had donned a blue and silver spandex uniform that made him look a lot bigger and muscular than before, leaving only his ears and tail visible. Jumping over Circe's attack, he rebounded off the ceiling at an unnatural angle, ricocheted off a wall, and arrowed at her with cans of Pepsi in hand.

"Shameless plug for the win!" Zapana cheered into the microphone as the new fight got underway. Most of those seated applauded, and even those who didn't were nodding appreciatively.

With Circe sufficiently distracted, Ellen turned her attention to a more pressing issue. Claire was seething off to one side, having hastily treated the wound Marc had left her with; it would have to do until Aldonza was in a position to heal her, though thankfully her breathing was steadier now. Maddhouse was nowhere in sight, having slipped away after Callista had gotten mad, and that was more worrisome. ...Think fast, Ellen. As long as he's still on the loose around here, things are going to get worse before they get better...

/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Look, can't you little brats tell much danger you're in? This entire property's going to turn into a disaster area!"

"Go to h#$$, fox! I'll leave when I'm good and ready!"

"You're good and ready right now, so go already! It's not safe here anymore---ow! Hands off the whiskers, I need those!"

In the time since the saboteurs had announced their presence, Aldonza had taken it upon herself to evacuate the recreation center of any visitors not part of the wedding proper. Some were more than eager to flee when told what was about to happen, not wanting to be caught up as collateral. Others, such as a group of teenagers who were shooting baskets on one of the farthest courts, were fully in the thrall of adolescent invincibility and made no move to leave. They weren't going to listen to the person who had more experience with life and common sense, because what adult could possibly know more than they did?

It never occurred to any of them that they themselves would someday be in the same position of having their words disregarded by the younger generation.

"Would you listen to me, please?" Aldonza tried again to reason with the kids, one of which was laughing at her by now. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that you like having your lives put in danger!"

*Woing*

Aldonza flinched as one of the kids bounced the basketball off her face, getting laughter from his friends. The expression that resulted could've curdled 'Velveeta', never mind milk. "Alright, no more Miss Nice Girl," she growled, grabbing the kid in question and hauling him off his feet. "'Off the courts' means 'off the courts'!"

The others didn't like this, of course, and they reached toward her. "Hey, let him go you stupid b---"

RRRRRMMRRRMRMRRR

The kid Aldonza had snatched was just about to try and punch her to make her let him go, but stopped in surprise with his friends at the loud rumbling. A previously unseen seam formed on the court, then split apart to reveal the facility's multi-story basement. One of the teens was able to run out of the way as it opened, but the other three weren't as quick, and they dropped screaming into the cavern below---

With her tail a whirling dervish, Aldonza snatched the falling kids before they could get too far. Grunting with the exertion of carrying all of them at once, she shoulder-charged the nearest exit at an upward angle and smashed down the door. "This isn't up for debate, kids," she barked as she let them go into the hallway, addressing them not with the tone of an exasparated young woman but as one of the Infinite Defense's admirals. "Move your cabooses and run! As in NOW!"

Nodding frantically, the teenagers finally listened to reason and fled the scene. Aldonza remained where she was as she tapped a communicator that was clipped to her jacket's collar. "Ellen, status report!"

-"...Callista's in an unofficial PFL match, Zapana's still chilling, Claire tried to separate Marc from Circe and got steamrolled for her efforts, Elk's going 'super product advertiser' on our mutual friend, Mom's Pokémon have finished their objectives and left the area, and I'm trying to figure out just where Maddhouse vanished to. And who knows where Mom is right now."-

-"Might want to pick up the pace,"- Zapana chimed in. -"I can still hear at least thirty-five more people elsewhere in the building, not counting Marc. I think some of them may be down in the basement."-

Machinery set into motion far below. "Preparing something big, far as I can tell," Aldonza said, grimacing. "Ellen, get your sister to help me finish evacuating the place. Zapana, I hate to take you away from your music, but it looks like I may need you over here!"

-"You positive, Aldonza-chan?"-

Aldonza was about to answer when a platform raised itself up to the court, settling into place with a clang. Seated there was a mechanical crab, looking to be about forty feet across and twenty-five feet high. Instead of stalks, there was a set of multifaceted eyes that glowed golden. The entire mech was covered in a vaguely silvery metal that distorted the air and almost hurt the eyes to look at---

The analysis was interrupted by the familiar screaming of rocket jets. A glittering dark streak screamed out of hiding from the opposite side of the crab, decking Aldonza in the face as it zoomed out of the court and down the hall. The fox stumbled backwards, collapsing against a wall dizzily.

-"Aldonza-chan? Are you still there?"-

"Shooop at the siiiign of the jackal-headed maaaaan...!" Aldonza managed to slur out in a sing-song tone, temporarily dazed by the unexpected blow.

-"ALDI, SNAP OUT OF IT!"- Zapana yelled in her ears.

Where her favorite nickname failed to rouse her, her least favorite one succeeded. Aldonza pushed herself up, expelling an angry sigh as her regeneration stabilized her. "Didn't we agree that you'd never call me that again?"

-"Sorry, but I could hear the cuckoo singing in the cuckooberry tree,"- Zapana snarked, referring to the origin of Aldonza's namesake. To her credit, her best friend did sound genuinely apologetic to her ears. -"What's that you're seeing in there?"-

"To quote a tired old meme," Aldonza answered, shuddering as she gave the mech another lookover, "a giant enemy crab. I so hate arachnids..."

-"...That's not unoriginal at all,"- Ellen commented, sounding hurried. Aldonza's communicator shrieked with the noise of a battle in progress. -"...And neither is this Hulkbuster rip-off that's trying to give me a Swiss origin. Where'd it come from?"-

"Must've been what hit me just now... get Eebon out here. We've still got evacuations to handle!"

-"...Getting,"- Ellen confirmed before breaking off communications.

-"Give me a moment to get this generator hooked up. Be right with you."- There was a click as Zapana followed suit.

No sooner than she had said those words than the crab came to life. One of its legs pointed at Aldonza and shifted, morphing into a beam-spewing Vulcan gun. Quickly sidestepping to let the shots hit the wall instead, she took off running to search the rest of the building. A flash-hiss of blackness signalled the arrival of Ellen's sister, the felinoid keeping pace with her senior as they got back to work.

/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/

A flaming shoe connected with the Machamp-lady's mid-section, making her eyes bug out for a moment. This coupled with a telekinetic burst of Stored Power served to launch her out of the thoroughly-trashed wedding hall, across the two-room reception hall past another fight in progress, and through a wall into the unused conference room beyond it. Unlike the last few times she'd fallen, this time she didn't rise again; a disoriented mental whimper was proof enough to Callista that her opponent wouldn't be bothering her anymore. "Finally," she muttered, pleased that the enhanced threads that her dress was composed of were holding up just fine. "Fighting-types are always such a pain. Now for the main event."

Callista took a quick second to reassess the reception hall. Most of the combat was clear of the tables where the bridal party and food were located, but it was starting to escalate. A blur of motion signalled to her that Zapana had just left the room, her music station now powered by a modified generator instead of the local grid. One corner of the room was filled with wreckage where Elk and Ellen were locked in combat against Circe and, as she'd overheard Ellen describe it as, a dark-toned 'Hulkbuster rip-off'. Judging from the guests' commentary, it was Marc in that armor, and unless the Harrison kids stepped up their game they were going to get pinned down.

And of course, there was that crab mech that Zapana had reportedly gone after.

A smile. "Well. Can't have any of that," she said to no one, taking hold of her purse and morphing it into a rainbow-edged scimitar. With a deft movement of her fingers she began to spin the weapon before her, assorted energy steamers materializing out of nothing and collecting in the blade. "Back in action, Shape-Shifter. For old times' sake!"

/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/

Tch... these brats are more of a nuisance than I gave them credit for.

Upon stepping inside what he privately called his "Allegory Armor" and activating it, Marc's intention was to put a stop to any and all opposition. After keeping that traitor fox from pursuing him, his first objective was to incapacitate the two teenagers that were occupying Circe, keeping her from bringing her stronger magics to bear. He was of the mind that they couldn't possibly be that difficult to deal with once he had everything he needed.

He grimaced as that #$&%^ Pepsi cat-man got in close yet again and slugged his helmet with a skateboard that he'd gotten from somewhere. It wasn't doing any real damage, but it kept disorienting his armor's HUD and keeping him from getting any definitive readings on his targets (as well as causing him to miss the sight of the Machamp woman being launched across the hall behind him). He'd also tried to get at least a basic scan of Elk---capabilities, genetic makeup, anything---but his sensors kept returning nothing but gibberish. Seriously, what the @#^$? I think I would have preferred fighting the fox at this rate...

His HUD abruptly blared a warning that had nothing to do with the Harrisons. He turned to look---

"Quadrant Strike!"

---just in time as an isotope-shaped arrangement of elemental power screamed towards him. Fire, water, wind, even a representation of earth itself spun around, trying unsuccessfully to orbit each other en route to their destination. Realizing that he needed to answer power with power, Marc launched a grenade into the Quadrant's center. The resulting explosion disrupted the attack, ripping it apart and leaving what was left to splatter harmlessly on the floor.

The fighting between Circe and the Harrison kids stopped as all parties regarded the situation closely. As Marc fully turned towards her, Callista was standing ready just beyond the hole in the wall, armed with Shape-Shifter and ready to rumble. While sporting a few nicks and bruises, she didn't seem bothered by them. If anything she seemed more determined than ever to get herself involved.

But now that he was really paying close attention to her for the first time that afternoon, he thought he could actually see the stereotypical bubbles and chimes that would have surrounded Callista's first appearance in an average anime. She was cute enough as a human, but her current hybrid state bumped it straight up to 'gorgeous', enough that Marc began seriously contemplating her as a possibility.

Marc wasn't seeing just another average girl in a crowd like Claire, or even a dangerous fighter like Ellen. What he saw... was a target.

If he hadn't been distracted, he would have noticed Callista shiver violently and her claws become more evident at the direction his thoughts were going in. As it was, he paid the movements no note as he smiled inside his helmet. It's no wonder people go crazy over her despite her abrasive personality and shopping streak. Once Circe is under my command, she's next. Time to get me a two-for-one deal. "I'm going to give you a chance, little girl. Sheathe your weapon and call off your friends, and I will change your life forever. If you don't---"

CRUNCH.

Callista interrupted him by biting down noisily on a Dorito, taking the time to chew it loudly before swallowing. "So sorry, but I can't hear you over the sound of me not caring," she sniped, wiping her fingers on her dress (and pointedly ignoring the muttered complaints of Circe's maids at this action). "And even if I could, it wouldn't change my desire to thoroughly and utterly erase you."

Marc rolled his eyes. Why do they always want to do it the hard way? "Then I guess it can't be helped. I'm going to make you change your tune before the hour's over, sweetheart," he cautioned, quickly scanning her to get a basic idea of her capabilities before the fight proper. "People keep saying they don't want me. It never lasts."

"Then try and get me, if you think you're man enough!" Callista raised one hand in the classic Maneki Neko gesture, claws extended. In most cases it would have accentuated her cuteness, but Marc knew full well that she was mocking him. "You think I'm some tsundere to be added to your harem?" Her scimitar morphed into a classic longsword rippling with heat and fire. "Then it's high time you regretted teasing the cat!"

With that she exploded forward at speeds that Marc's suit calculated to be right around half of lightspeed; mysteriously, the air did not shake with the roar of a sonic boom. His reflexes augmented by the armor, he triggered the creation of a titanium-alloy shield augmented by a high-powered energy field in order to block Callista's attack. Fire Brand slashed against the shield; the energy rippled but held, and the mutant twisted out of the way of an attempted rocket-powered jab that put another hole in the wall behind her through the air pressure alone.

The battle between foils had begun.

/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/

Circe's lips curled in distaste. This could certainly be going a lot more smoothly...

With Marc now fully engaged with Callista, that left her alone against Elk and Ellen. She turned her head to the side, keeping the teenagers in her peripheral vision, and addressed the on-lookers present. "Would it kill any of you to give me a hand?"

"Oh, absolutely," one of Marc's employees called back.

"Our employee handbook rules against suicide," the psychotic maid added, now seated with the rest of the bridal party and nibbling on a fish cake. "I'm violent, not stupid."

"Might as well quit while you're only behind a little," the stone-faced man who'd requested Callista's autograph suggested. "I know a lost cause when I see it."

Had these been normal circumstances, Circe would have conceded the point and found a safe place to watch Callista duke it out with Marc. But to everyone's surprise, she instead sneered and produced...

Ellen sighed softly. "...A lightsaber. But of course. Everyone always brings a lightsaber to their wedding."

"Muffins, muffins, tasty muffins and spam~," Elk replied, somehow guzzling a cup of Pepsi Max through his uniform and--- When did he have time to recharge his transformation without being seen?!

"...Right. Almost forgot where I was for a moment."

Distantly, Zapana was heard howling something in Japanese. Explosions went off not far away, shaking the wall, but Circe didn't need to look through the door to know that the building was being ripped apart piece by piece due to her fight against whatever Marc had stored away. Focusing on the Harrisons, her mind found the lightsaber's internal switch, providing power to its orange blade---

"Whaaa~!"

---only to lose her balance as one of Ellen's cards sliced through the heels of her shoes cleanly, tearing them open. She could have still kept her grip on the lightsaber if Elk hadn't dashed in at that moment, flipping into a handstand and kicking her fingers with just enough force to make the weapon fall out of her hands. The saber's safety measures activated, switching off the blade as she lost control of it. Before she could retrieve it, Elk transitioned into a sweep kick that sent the hilt spinning out of her reach before he somersaulted out of the way of her retalitory strike.

To say Circe was infuriated by this wasn't doing her justice. All these pests had turned the best day of her life into a horrific quagmire, causing one embarassment after another. The damage to her shoes in particular reminded her that Ellen had pulled this same stunt against her in a training session years ago, and it was just as disgraceful now as it was then. In that moment, she no longer cared that she would likely face retribution by Ambush: she wanted them gone. "That's it. Killing you both!" she yelled as she let her Orange side influence her more readily. She kicked her shoes away and produced a Spell Card, levelling it at the siblings. "Loving Heart: Double Spark!"

A wide-angle vaguely rainbow-esque energy beam enveloped that entire end of the room, forcing everyone watching to look away. Elk was quick to evade, humming along with the music, while Ellen opted to block the attack with a shield of cards and weather the storm. What wasn't warded off surged around her, pulverizing everything in its way for more than seventy meters. The bridal party and guests seated behind the sorceress, who were just happy not to be in the Card's path, applauded at the scene.

...

For the first time in more than a month, since before Callista's faction had ever received their invitations, something that surrounded Circe's subconscious began to crack under the pressure.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby Ookalf » Tue Aug 25, 2020 11:30 pm

Man, things are really heating up here. Can't wait to see what happens next!
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Wed Aug 26, 2020 7:45 pm

Thanks. :) No real complaints on how Circe has been acting or anything like that? I'm hoping that means I left enough of a hint that something's influencing her mind.

Also, I don't know if I mentioned this already or not, but I have Ookalf slated to make an appearance in the epilogue whenever that gets worked on. I'll have to make sure that I get his character down right when the time comes.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby Ookalf » Thu Aug 27, 2020 12:15 am

Nah, no real problems with her portrayal so far - barring the parts that are clearly supposed to be "wrong", I don't see anything especially out of character.

As for Ookalf, I'm open to questions if you have any!
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Thu Sep 03, 2020 9:31 pm

Thanks. :) I'll keep that in mind once I get to that point. Provided I can keep focused, it'll probably be about early November.

On another note, I've updated the Dossiers with a profile on the story's antagonist.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Wed Sep 23, 2020 5:57 pm

Here's the latest chapter, taking a step away from Calli and Marc for the most part to see what the other saboteurs are up to. If things progress according to plan (I hope), then there'll be two more chapters after this before I work on the epilogue.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Taking Out The Trash
Chapter Seven

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Whoo-hoo-hoo, Blondie back there's bringing the heat! I think she almost burned my suit!"

"I wouldn't mind if she burned the rest of you."

"Up your nose with a rubber hose, flower girl! Ice 1!"

From the time they had been left to their own devices up until now, Missy and Viridi did not stop bickering. The ceasefire Bahija had orchestrated a month before still stood and there was still a crisis in progress, so as much as they would've liked to purge each other from existence, the time for that wasn't yet. So as such they were using their high-tier supernatural powers...

...to play a game of tennis.

A spherical chunk of ice bounced off the court and whistled past Viridi before her vine-and-oak racket could reach it, shattering against a wall. One of Missy's stormtroopers gestured with his blaster in his boss's general direction. "40-all. Advantage: server."

Missy thumbed her nose at Viridi. "Service ace in your face. Top that!"

"Gladly. Serve it up. Upgrade the spell while you're at it!"

Another blast from Circe's Double Spark roared through the court, rotating as her real targets went evasive and widening the damage already dealt to that half of the building. Seemingly ignoring this, Missy upgraded her magic from Ice 1 to 3 and served the much-denser ice chunk to Viridi.

The nature goddess's return smash was a thing of beauty. The ice bounced off the court, glowing green as it went, then curved with absolutely wicked spin and hurdled off through the holes towards the reception hall, passing through the Double Spark like it wasn't there. "A thousand one," Viridi breathed, "a thousand two---"

The Spark suddenly cut off as a whump and a shout reverberated back to them. "Ouch! Right in the... who did that?!"

The stormtrooper ref shouldered his blaster. "Deuce."

Missy's face contorted; the Brotherhood leader was torn between flipping out on her enemy and congratulating her for the tactic. Her voice sounded equally strained. "ARrrrgGGhhhHH...!?!!?"

Viridi smiled proudly, head tilted back just a little. "As this generation is fond of saying, 'don't hate the player'."

"I'm going to hate the player anyway just because she's trying to make changes to my playbook," Missy griped. "I wish I'd thought of that maneuver."

Viridi's eyes flicked towards the facility's eastern wing where Zapana was entangled with Aryu-Madd Tech's creation. Something seemed to be heading their way... "Hold that thought. -Kittenoan, what's going on?"- she called, her voice reaching the wolf's mind.

-"Whatever it is you're doing over there, this thing's picked up on it,"- Zapana growled. -"It's headed straight towards you and ignoring me entirely!"-

-"Don't blame me, it's her fault!"- Missy and Viridi protested, pointing their respective rackets at each other. There was a crash from somewhere close by; the stormtrooper ref picked up on where the situation was going and hurried off the courts before he could become collateral.

-"It's both yours and Circe's, so shut up,"- Zapana snarled. -"As long as it's going for you, do me a flavor and stall it. I'm gonna call the fleet and have them do a full scan on it, because it's actually putting up a solid fight against me!"-

Viridi fumed for a split second at being told to shut up before something crossed her mind. -"Wait, don't you mean do me a 'favor'---"-

That was all she had time to say before the crab mech smashed through the east wall, scuttling sideways and rotating to face them as it perched on the rubble. -"Now is not the time, Nachure!"- Zapana groaned irritably. -"Break communications!"-

Viridi chuckled and did as she was told, gazing up at the silvery off-putting metal monster with disdain. "I've always hated giant robots. I am going to enjoy scattering its dust to the wind," she said, returning her racket to spaces unknown and reclaiming her staff.

Missy charged past her, eyes glinting. "Not if I beat you to it!" she called as she leapt a dozen feet into the air, pointing her own staff right between the crab's eyes. "Dragon Slave!"

A reddish beam of magic roared from the staff across the gap. As Missy landed, the mighty blast---capable of wiping entire towns off the map---struck squarely on target...

...and fizzled out of existence with an audible 'ping' the moment it made contact.

Viridi made sure to burn what she was seeing into her memory. Witnessing Missy with a completely gobsmacked face and dots for eyes was going to be helpful if she needed cheering up later. Though I'd feel better if it was something living that caused it... "My turn," she declared, gesturing with her free hand.

Seeds thought long-dead for centuries came to life, bursting out from beneath the court and ensnaring the mech's legs in a tangled mess of powerful vines and branches. Another plant, this one a fairly demented Venus flytrap scaled up to the mech's size, erupted from behind it. Already enhanced by Viridi's own designs, its mouth quadrupled in size to engulf the robot whole.

It never got there. A flurry of weapons fire from the crab's ventral side sliced and burned through the vines, freeing it. A four-clawed grappling hook fired from its back into the flytrap's stem, forcibly yanking it away and setting it up for the missiles that followed, ripping the plant apart.

Given time both Missy and Viridi could have figured out workarounds to this situation, but the machine's CPU didn't intend to let them recover. One of the crab's gigantic pincers extended in length on a collection of armored chains and slammed down towards the Brotherhood leader---

---and was unexpectedly blasted off course, knocking out the southern wall and letting in a cold breeze.

Viridi and Missy were both taken back at what caused it: the normally peaceful and demure Claire was lowering a rocket launcher that she'd obtained somewhere, a handkerchief lightly stained maroon taped to her neck. "Fly, you fools," she growled, quietly furious.

Neither of them needed any encouragement, taking off out of the room even as Claire continued her attack. On their way out, they saw Eebon teleporting away from the war zone with a fainted bodybuilder in tow.

...

"Was that a 'Lord of the Rings' reference she used back there?" Viridi complained as they hurried east down the main corridor. "Seriously?"

"'Red Vs. Blue'," actually, but good guess."

"Bah, that's even worse. At least the hobbits were decently written. You can't even tell that those bozos are talking half the time!"

Somewhere behind them, they could hear Aldonza howling an attack name and joining the assault against the crab mech. "That weak-minded muscle-man Eebon was carrying must have been the last straggler," Viridi commented, glancing back when she heard the doors to the hockey rink get ripped off their hinges. Powerful gusts of wind whipped around them both and begun to rip the walls apart, but they escaped the building unscathed.

"Good." Missy spat off to the side, looking eager. She waved off her raptor transport when it called out questioningly. "Holding back is always a pain. Now, let's get down to business!"

"Whatever you say, Shan Yu," Viridi said with a grimace as they situated themselves appropriately. She disliked human movies on principle, but she hated it even more when they had catchy music. "I'm going to enjoy reducing you to fertilizer."

"Prepare to eat your words, granola girl," Missy retorted through gritted teeth. "Get her, boys!"

A contingent of sentient plushies alongside squads of Imperial stormtroopers, Space Marines and prinnies emerged from behind every discernible barricade, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. Viridi was having none of it; with a gesture, a similarly-sized army of naturally-born creatures formed from the surrounding environment, dropped out of the sky, or otherwise appeared out of the woodwork. "I'd rather tango before I eat, thank you." Viridi gestured at her archenemy. "Forces of Nature, shred these abominations!"

As mystical, technological, and organic energy blasts decorated the air and living bombs blasted against each other, both child-sized powerhouses slammed together as they sought to overwhelm. Even as they continued to exchange strikes and insults around the entire exterior, they kept one eye on their surroundings; war or not, they were still on a mission that had nothing to do with their grudge.

Even with Marc's communications cut off, it was better to be safe than sorry. As far as the two were concerned, no potential reinforcements would reach their employer in time to make any difference.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Well, that stunt I pulled wasn't the dumbest mistake of my life, but it's pretty close.

While she had slapped a makeshift bandage on her neck wound that would need to last until the team's resident healer could reach her, Claire had come to the conclusion that confronting someone who was basically "Evil Tony Stark" was extremely boneheaded of her. She had little in the way of self-defense training given her preference for household work, and her words and loyalty meant nothing to someone who didn't care for either. For a brief moment she wondered what she was even doing there.

When Marc had reappeared in his power suit and engaged the Harrison kids, Claire had wanted very badly to help them in some way. Perhaps guessing what was on her mind, one of Marc's employees took pity on her and passed her what looked like a metal medicine box on first glance. He told her quietly to only open it and use its contents if she was absolutely positive that she would hit whatever she used it against. He then turned to argue with another man standing next to him about what he'd done, ignoring her completely.

For a few minutes Claire had dawdled, unsure of what to do. As soon as Callista was engaged against Marc, she knew that any chances of aiding her successfully had just gone out the window at the speeds they were going. She sure as blazes wasn't going to use it against Circe, either; she already felt guilty for backtalking her, and attacking her outright felt like a betrayal she couldn't take. So instead she'd dismissed herself and wandered out to what was left of the lobby, trying to find some way to make herself useful and ignoring the combat that was going on behind her.

That was when she heard Marc's crab mecha arriving at the tennis courts. He said to make sure I could hit what I used it against, she had told herself. That seems like as good a target as any. She had opened the medicine box... and had fallen over backwards when a full-sized rocket launcher landed on the floor, complete with spare ammunition.

Claire herself might not have had any weapons training, but she didn't need it: she already had Callista's genetic memories, and it was telling her that she already knew what to do. Making sure the weapon was loaded, she entered the courts through the hole Circe's Double Spark had created, took aim and fired. The surprise attack kept Missy from getting hit, and she pressed the assault after dismissing her and Viridi.

The rocket launcher wasn't going to do much to the mech beyond disrupt its attacks, she knew. The beast was just too heavily armored for that sort of basic firepower, and as soon as it focused on her instead of trying to resume its pursuit of the team's primary magic users, she likely would require Callista's fleet to restore her body in the aftermath.

Violence was heard from outside the building: the Brotherhood and Forces of Nature had begun their clash. A crazy thought crossed Claire's mind. But then... maybe a distraction is just what they need? As sick-minded as Marc is, I have to believe some of that crossed over into his machine's programming. "Oh dear me," she called as she lowered her weapon, feigning helplessness with a dash of confusion and cluelessness. "I seem to have gotten turned around. What's a gorgeous babe like me to do? I was hoping to be at the bowling alley for Ladies' Night, score a 300 and pick me up a few hot guys, but I'm completely lost. ...Oh my, too much debris! The dress that I'd paid two hundred dollars for is in tatters! What am I to do?"

The crab mech stared at her for several long seconds... then scuttled in the direction of Missy and Viridi's war. Several veins on Claire's face twitched. "I said look at me, scrapheap!" she snapped, aiming at one of the crab's eyes and firing her last rocket.

That got the crab's attention; apparently having its optics temporarily disrupted was too much for it to ignore. It pointed one of its legs at her, a laser vulcan-gun taking shape there. There, that did it. Claire dropped the launcher, not seeing any point to carrying it anymore. Maybe they'll regenerate me back at the Manor instead of anywhere clo---

A flash of black, and a furred hand grabbed one of her arms at the elbow. Claire had just enough time to squeak in surprise before space twisted around her---

Five energy bolts passed through the area where she had been a split second previously, harmlessly perforating the floor next to the launcher---

---"Ooof!"

...and Claire found herself back in the reception hall. For some strange reason she was on the floor behind the seat that had been set aside for her use. This time when she spoke, her wide-eyed confusion was genuine. "Wha-huh~?"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, gaw," Eebon uttered sheepishly as those nearest to her turned to look at the disturbance. She pulled the disoriented maid upright. "I was aiming for the chair and I missed."

Sufficiently recovering enough of her wits to look around, Claire saw that both fights were still in progress. Callista and Marc were trading blasts, slashes, and special attacks across half the reception area and the wedding hall, evading and countering too fast for her to track. The wall that divided the two rooms was almost completely gone, and as Claire watched a reflected energy bolt struck the stash where Callista's A&W had been stored. This forced Marc to dodge a giant red liquid fist that spawned out of nowhere as the cache was destroyed. Hawaiian Punch, her memories told her.

The northern half of the reception hall was Elk, Ellen and Circe's battleground: the Harrisons were very good at being distractions, with the sorceress focusing on them exclusively. Circe was utilizing every trick in her arsenal and every gift she'd received to keep both kids moving, but between Ellen's stellar defense and Elk's unpredictable offense, she was beginning to get winded. Even recovering her lightsaber wasn't doing much to help matters. By contrast, neither teenager seemed tired at all.

Claire shifted to look at what was happening in her immediate vicinity. It was rather crowded, with the bridal party and remaining guests clustered around that entire area. A few of the guests---be they maids or Marc's employees---had chosen to vamoose after having their fill of food and drink, but otherwise it was the same people who were there when she'd left. Some were even sort-of-dancing to the music that was still blaring as they watched the fights. "I repeat: wha-huh~?" Claire murmured, her puzzlement returning.

"Don't ask me. I've been making non-guests leave," Eebon said with a shrug. "Want anything to eat, gaw? The last one's out, so I've got time."

At this point, Claire mentally gave up. Marc's staffers she could understand not wanting to leave if they were overconfident in their boss' abilities, but not her co-workers. They should've been familiar enough with Callista and Ambush Cat's mayhem by now to scram, Zapana's choices in music notwithstanding. "Spaghetti and garlic bread, please," she requested. "With some Sunkist soda if there's any left."

Eebon saluted her, then took her plate and glass and walked away. With her out of the way, Claire sat down... and buried her head in her arms on the table with an irritated "Aarrggghhh!" Madison's awkward attempt at comforting her by placing a scaly hand on her shoulder was summarily ignored.

Forget this. I'm not cut out for this nonsense. I'm done. You hear me? Done!

The narrator obliged, focusing on what was happening elsewhere.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

For a few crucial seconds, the crab mech remained where it was as it attempted to parse where its target had gone. When it had scanned the maid that attacked it, it hadn't detected any sort of supernatural abilities beyond a minor imbalance in its brain waves. Neither had it detected Eebon's arrival or departure: she was there and then she was gone, taking the maid with her. Its limited AI told it that outside forces were at work.

The mech made the decision to utilize its own backup to chase down the maid, having long since identified Missy and Viridi as its primary targets. A hatch on its underside opened, releasing a squad of airborne drones made in its image. Directing the drones towards the reception hall, it once again made to scramble towards the ruckus outside---

"HYPER TORNADO: GRAVITATION!"

A violent twister sprung up behind the mech clear from the basketball courts, yanking it and its drones backwards before their systems could compensate. As heavy and well-designed as the crab was, even it was susceptible to one of the strongest forces nature could offer. It dug its pincers and legs into the ground in an attempt to stay put, but it was irrevocably dragged to the ice rink in-between the two sections before the tornado showed any signs of relenting.

...

By the time the winds fully abated, most of the facility's eastern wing---the basketball courts and the laboratories beneath them, two game rooms, a fitness/workout room, a rest area, and the remaining four conference rooms---were in ruins. It was a testament to the attacker's level of control that despite the Tornado's destructive force, little if anything else west of the courts was damaged or out of place; the robot had been the attack's target.

East of the courts, though? One of the mission objectives was to destroy the center by day's end and smear Maddhouse's name, so it was fair game.

Some of the drones continued to spin about in midair before finally re-orienting themselves, pointing themselves back in the direction of the reception hall. They didn't get far as a rippling wave of black fire caught up with them, reducing them to dust; Zapana bounded onto the ice rink, careful not to lose her footing. "Well, that was an interesting diversion," she uttered as her coal-like eyes took the situation in. She looked over where Aldonza was standing at the decimated eastern wall, beckoning her. "Whatcha waiting for? Let's hit the dance floor and waste this thing!"

Instead of taking the cue, Aldonza gave Zapana a funny look. "Is it really necessary to change the music each time something of note happens? Strikes me as odd."

Zapana gestured out at... nothing. "It's more for Curtis's sake than ours. He gets more into a scene if there's appropriate music playing."

Aldonza tail-slapped the last of the drones out of the air when they tried to shoot at her, shattering them against the floor without losing her focus on her best friend. "Let me guess: he's planning on writing an account of all this and posting it online?" she asked, trying to keep herself from facefaulting.

The crab mech disgorged a warhead into the air that split apart, raining a hundred projectiles down on Zapana's head. "Hiken! ... That's my best guess, though it's really a question of 'when', not 'if'," she said, watching as an oversized fist-shaped fireball completely incincerated the missiles and went on to punch a hole in the ceiling, causing a light in its path to explode as it did so. "News about that new virus has him and his parents on edge." She beckoned Aldonza to enter, re-absorbing any lingering embers. "C'mon, I don't want to have to start the song over. Could you just effect a sashay, get in here, and start reeking of overconfidence?"

Aldonza sighed, but put words to actions and strutted into the room. As she walked, she adopted the sort of arrogant sneer expected from the truly prideful. "Just so you know~, I prefer the McTrevor brand of moonshine," she drawled. "Goes down smooth, easy to drink, and makes my skin and fur look gorgeous. Won't you have a good time with me... sweets?"

Zapana doubled over laughing, ducking under the beams that sizzled through the space where her head had been. "Listen to yourself, listen to yourself! Ta-hahahaha... that's the worst sales pitch in the history of everything! I wouldn't touch McTrevor Moonshine if it replaced all the water on earth overnight. That $#%& tastes like liquid plastic!"

"You're supposed to be the hard-drinking party girl, not me," Aldonza said, shrugging helplessly as she gave up the act. The crab mech tried to spear her with one of its extendable legs, but she was well away from it before it could cross the distance halfway. "I couldn't do 'bar hooker' if my life depended on it. I'm the girl who wakes up pups in the morning with sugar drink ads." An annoyed sigh. "I still think they're skimping on the royalties..."

Zapana straightened, taking aim at the crab's face and forcing it back with a plasma beam the size of her hand. The crab's legs tore deep rents in the ice as it skidded backwards, plowing through the remains of the seating area before the beam ran out of power. "I should've been more specific. When I said 'overconfident', I was thinking less 'bar hooker' and more 'hardcore gamer who thinks he knows everything'."

Aldonza took to the air, tail spinning like mad behind her as she rejoined her friend. "My mistake, but I'm not trying it again. So, what are we dealing with here?"

"I went ahead, called the task force up there and got them to do a deep scan of it," Zapana explained, preparing herself for whatever the next attack might be. "It's made of every anti-magic material you can think of. Mythril, orichalcum, you name it. Missy's Dragon Slave fizzled out on contact if you want a general idea. Marc's men further enhanced the armor with adamantium and coltan, so it's shrugging off all of my lower-tier stuff too. I could destroy it with my higher-end attacks no prob, but its reactor is nuclear. I blow it up or punch it through, and I wipe out most of the neighborhood. I'd like to avoid that."

"I noticed it wasn't lifted off its feet by your plasma beam," Aldonza said curiously. "Or by my Hyper Tornado, for that matter."

"Yeah. Whatever it is they installed in there, it's keeping it firmly ground-bound. Casual punches aren't going to flip it over, and the amount of force I'd be able to use to do so without setting off the reactor is going to take some careful calculating. Once I have it---" She interrupted herself by rapid-fire punching the air, destroying another wave of missiles with the resulting shockwave. "---I should be able to safely hurl it into space and let the boys do their job, but that's if I get the chance to do so. This thing's a walking arsenal, with absurd micro-manufacturing capabilities to boot. Right when I think it's used up everything, it just sends more at me."

Aldonza looked up at the sky through the hole in the roof for a moment, then faced Zapana with a smile. "You say we ought to throw it into space, and I know what you said about its defenses, but I'm inclined to think magic's the key here."

Zapana looked at her as if she'd just suggested dancing the Charleston on someone's grave. She opened her mouth to voice her incredulity...

...

"Wait for it," Aldonza whispered---

...

Image

...

And Zapana's eyes widened in realization. "What you're suggesting," she attempted to confirm, "is that we hit it with the type of magic that doesn't care one whit for magic negation?"

Aldonza clapped. "Give the girl a prize! We have Sprite, M&Ms and salt-less pretzels!"

"Yeerrrggh. I'll take a Bloody Marry, thank you very much."

"...That was bad and you should feel bad," Aldonza deadpanned.

Zapana smirked. "It wasn't, and I'm not. And even if it was, I'd just blame Calli-chan's influence anyway---"

One of the crab's pincers pointed at Zapana's face and fired as she spoke, the blast's circumference several meters larger than normal. In the millisecond before the shot would've hit her, her hand set into motion and swatted it through the ice. The blast continued tunneling through each basement, only exploding once it hit the very bottom. She felt the ground shake, but dismissed it as inconsequential.

The caninoid sneered at the mech. "I'm sorry, was I ignoring you? If you want my attention that badly, Johnny Cash is on stage today!" She swung one arm up, a fiery arc behind it. "Fire Wall: Starflare!"

Aldonza took that as her cue to jet over to the hole Zapana's Hiken had created earlier, flying through it. Her timing couldn't have been better, as a white-blue blazing barricade erupted out of nothing to encompass the entire rink clear through the ceiling.

Zapana's control over the fire's intensity was such that Aldonza felt no discomfort from being close by, yet it easily burned clear through the ceiling in seconds and sent everything within its perimeters crashing down. The debris hammered against the mech and Zapana herself, the both of them no-selling any damage entirely. Some of the wreckage dropped through the hole into the basement, and the subsequent cacophony was music to her ears.

As she absorbed any flames that were not part of her barrier, Zapana watched as the crab tried to scurry away in Missy and Viridi's general direction. It stopped just a few feet short of the Fire Wall and didn't try to pass through, most likely because whatever systems it had didn't like the idea. "Aldonza, let me know if it tries anything funny," she called out, dropping the honorifics for the time being. "I need to do some fast calculations, and you know just how much I despise math!"

She barely heard her friend's confirmation as her battle stance tightened a fraction. Zapana devoted all of her focus to her mind, going over everything she knew about math and her opponent to try and estimate how much force she would need to destabilize the crab mech. At a guess she figured the machine's AI was doing something similar, trying to determine how to bypass her Fire Wall or incapacitate its current adversaries. Hopefully the stalemate would remain in force long enough for her to finish this.

With her attention split, she completely dismissed the air-splitting scream in the near-distance as of no consequence.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Ellen, I know you're a perfectly good friend in any other circumstance... but if you would just lie down and die already, that would be great!

Ellen and Elk weren't telepathic, so they couldn't hear Circe's thoughts. Not that it mattered; neither of them would have been inclined to listen anyway. Ever since she'd started using some of her higher-tier attacks, their own synergy had only improved to the point that the ever-growing pressure in her mind was threatening to pull her into madness. It made sense that they were doing so well; as siblings, they both knew the other's strategies without needing to ask.

In the months and years prior to her engagement, Circe had allowed the Harrison kids to have the odd sleepover at the Manor. During that time Ellen would sometimes talk about the physical and magical lessons she was going through, and for someone who still found time for standard schooling and family bonding it sounded fairly impressive. She'd made no secret of the fact that after she graduated, she wanted to travel to some alternate universe or other and compete in the summer Olympics there as a swimmer, so of course she was following a strict physical regimen. Add to that the two very fine instructors the girl had in the magic arts...

...It all boils down to me not doing any meaningful harm to her when I should have her dead to rights!

This said nothing about Elk. The spandex-clad catboy was like smoke: whereas Ellen was content to be a bastion with her cards and that strange armored dress of hers, Elk was simply too evasive. Nothing came close to touching him, and while hopped up on soda pop he was pulling stunts that would otherwise have been impossible. Case in point: he'd avoided her second Double Spark by riding a snowboard along the side of it, and only that unexpected shot from the tennis courts had kept him from crashing it into her face.

Not like that had been much better. Seriously!...

The only major trick in Circe's arsenal she hadn't tried at this point was her Volcanic Explosion technique, and that was because the majority of her staff that had been invited were still present. They hadn't tried to help her, true, but they hadn't tried to stop her either. Regardless of the circumstances, she still cared about them enough not to view them as collateral, and most of them wouldn't last long against Ambush's children anyway. She checked on Claire's status as she swerved out of the way of Elk's soda-fueled uppercut, noticed her loyalist eating some spaghetti half-heartedly, and dismissed her as a threat as well.

And on the plus side, Ellen's not pulling the same stunt on me that she did on Marc's guests. Thank goodness for small favors.

Distantly she could hear Zapana howling out an attack, though the name of it was lost beneath the sound of her lightsaber deflecting a pair of fist-shaped paper constructs. The rumble and racket caused by the ceiling in that area crashing down came through much more loud and clear, but she didn't let herself get distracted by the minor quake. Instead Circe threw her free hand forward, her arm from the elbow on down morphing into a tangle of vines to try and catch Elk in mid-air. To emphasize the element she was using, her dress turned a grassy green in color.

Elk twisted and flipped out of the way, the vines barely grazing his foot, but that was alright with Circe. The vines curved around and split apart, deluging Ellen's defenses at a multitude of angles. Three of her attacks actually managed to slip past the bibliophile's defenses, striking her limbs but not budging her.

Must be because her armor consists of more than just her dress, Circe mused as she ducked her head, keeping Elk's bicycle kick from connecting. Still, this could be the key. Just hit her with more attacks than she can reasonably cover, and I can---

A forceful scream shocked her out of her thoughts before she could finish it. Eyes widening as she took in the source of the scream, Circe clamped down on her fury as the scene before her grabbed her full attention. She spared just enough time to shift her elemental manipulation down to a "stand by" state and revert her arm back to normal, her dress returning to its regular white sheen. She ignored the fact that she was hyperventilating, having wasted a large chunk of her magic reserves in a short period of time with little to show for it beyond the minor bruises that Ellen now sported.

If she'd bothered to look around, she would have seen Ellen recollect her cards while visibly fighting off a wave of trepidation... itself a surprise, given how collected she normally was. Elk's transformation wore off, returning him to his pristine suit, and he obliviously wandered off to claim his meal from the dinner tables. Everyone's conversations died down as they gave the main event their undivided attention.

As she listened to what was being spoken and watched the fight as it continued, Circe shook her head firmly and refused to entertain the traitorous thoughts that arose. Marc is much kinder than that. I've been promised a life greater than any I've lived up until now, and he's the one who's going to give it to me. This is for your own good, Callista, so stop struggling and let him win so I can see what he has in store!

But as confident in his abilities as she was, she couldn't help but believe that Marc had just made a grievous mistake...

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Across the city at Brotherhood HQ, Bahija had been seated back at her desk and monitoring the situation from afar when her entire body unexpectedly lit up in a paroxysm of pain. Hurriedly she grabbed a pillow from close by and stuffed it into her mouth to muffle her cries, keeping the plushies guarding the door to her office from investigating. The pain was intense enough that she almost bit clean through the pillow, and it took half a minute before the sensations died down.

The intricacies of her suffering shook her to the core. She whimpered softly, hugging her pillow close to her and shutting her eyes as she recollected them all. Repeated high-speed pummeling, like she was a ball in a lightspeed tennis match. Claws whose potency had been heightened by the acceleration mauling her from all angles. Her supernatural powers and Color energy made impotent by a magic-draining dagger. Her hearing ruined by the worst singing in Muffinville. The coup de grace was the interdimensional satellite beam that had struck with the force of a thousand supernovas concentrated into a single point, leaving her in anguish at the bottom of a lake. Everything about it was incredibly vivid.

But why am I feeling this way? The last time I'd felt that much pain, those types of pain was... She giggled as she connected the dots, softly at first but rising in volume. She raised her head, eyes meeting the hulking armor on one of the screens. ...Four years ago...! Oh, Maddhouse, you poor deluded fool... you have no idea what you've set yourself up for, do you?

Bahija straightened in her chair and continued watching the confrontation play out, tossing her pillow aside with a devious, knowing smile. "You pushed the 'Ravishment' button," she taunted, no one but herself hearing her words. "You shouldn't'a did that."

Make him pay for his irreverence, Callista. Make him pay the same way you made me pay!

...

The plushies outside her door heard the mad cackling, but they chose to ignore it. That sound was just another day in the life to them, after all.

/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/

For future reference, I slapped together a basic map of the facility. The layout is very loosely based on that of a recreation center I went to a handful of times as a kid, mostly for stuff like graduation parties or assorted wedding receptions (including that of one of my siblings). It's been at least 14 years since I was last there, so I don't remember what kind of facilities it had aside from the conference rooms on the left side.

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EDIT (9-23-2020 at 8:43p.m. CST) -- Edited Missy's Ice spell slightly after consulting the Final Fantasy wiki. In all fairness, I've avoided the series as a whole, so I wouldn't know that an "Ice 5" didn't actually exist. ()^_^

EDIT (1/14/2024 at 12:36p.m. CST) -- Fixed a broken music link that led to "Immortal Red Soul", and fixed the Anubis Markets picture link.
Last edited by AmbushCat on Sun Jan 14, 2024 1:37 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Mon Oct 05, 2020 6:07 pm

WARNING: I never thought the time would come when I would actually say this, but... this latest chapter is a bit on the darker side and delves into a particular aspect of Callista's past, as well as Marc's own connection to it all. Nothing is overly graphic or detailed, as per the forum rules, but the implications are still there and it's clear what Marc's thinking at times. As such, I'm fairly certain this would get an 'M' rating elsewhere on the Internet.

Also, this is the longest chapter in the story thus far. Dunno if the last one will match it in length or not.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Taking Out the Trash
Chapter Eight

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An inky black void. A giant viewscreen hovering in mid-air with nothing to support it. A translucent floor through which a multitude of fractals could be seen twisting endlessly, and the green laser-like grid that marked said floor.

It was here in this representation of Callista's conscious mind that Kaoru glared at the fight between her and Marc, wishing that she had some way of keeping track of what they were both doing. Unfortunately, not only had Callista gone straight to lightspeed, but so had her enemy: the armored suit was surprisingly fast and agile for something its size, another sign of just how many resources and how much money Marc had that he could find a way to circumvent physical laws in this manner. In any case, Callista's vision refused to solidify into something coherent.

Two beings in the shape of Callista's hybrid form took shape somewhere behind Kaoru. While they both had cream-colored fur, anything else that would have been calico-patterned were instead either entirely black or white. This effect extended to their clothes: one's tattered T-shirt and shorts were dark, and the other's pristine sweatshirt and jeans were bright. These were the Copycats, representations of the darker and lighter aspects of Callista's personality. Normally they would be warring with each other, but for now they were united in their "severe dislike" for Marc Maddhouse.

The two regarded each other for a moment, silently debating over who would be the first to broach the subject with Kaoru. The moment passed as the Light Copycat stepped forward. "Excuse me, but you might want to start getting ready."

Kaoru blinked, turning to face them. "Huh?"

"Get ready," L.C. repeated. "Callista's going to need you soon."

"Another hunch?" Kaoru asked. As she said those words, she reached into a storage bin that had popped into existence. From it she withdrew a heavily customized Fairy Leviathan costume, twelve years old but still in perfect condition.

"Another hunch," the Dark Copycat parroted, rolling her eyes. "That schmuck out there's more of a nuisance than we guessed. I'm getting more and more eager to trash the set just watching this!"

"You're sure that you don't want to go out there first?" Kaoru inquired as she slipped into the costume. The magical clothing reshaped her appearance significantly, transforming her from a flesh-and-blood human to a fully robotic reploid based on the real deal (minus a few cosmetic differences). As she continued speaking, her vision was overlaid with a light green tint and a steady stream of information. "The way that armor's moving, Calli's going to need speed more than power."

Another moment of silence as the two Copycats had another silent conversation. D.C. finally snarled and wrung her hands, hiding her eagerness behind a thin veil of maliciousness. "Little brat, you know I hate it when you're right."

Kaoru removed her transformation pendant from her belt, the only article on her person that had carried over after she'd put on the costume. "Yes, you're mad. I'm mad." She gestured at the viewscreen. "But you've seen Marc's real face. You've seen how he's acting. Doesn't that seem familiar to either of you? It sure does to me. You weren't the only ones sitting locked up in here when it happened!"

"...Point conceded," L.C. admitted, audibly shaken.

"...Yeah, I'mma gonna let you win this time," D.C. agreed, her abrasive tone a bit more contrite than normal. "Standin' by."

Kaoru didn't pay their confirmation any mind, instead raising her pendant aloft and shouting at the top of her voice...

/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/

Callista didn't let it show, but her anger at the situation was building.

Her shape-shifting sword was capable of mimicking any weapon that it had ever come in contact with. Her claws, which could slice cleanly through titanium alloys from a standing start, only increased in sharpness and lethality the faster she went. At 186,000 miles per second, she was arguably one of the most fleetfooted residents (part-time, anyway) of the Muffin Continent.

And Maddhouse's armor was scarcely even damaged despite them having been locked in combat for around six minutes or so. I knew this whole thing had been going too smoothly. Ambush Cat said that his corporation matched the Brotherhood for resourcefulness, but I didn't think that meant he had free access to this much adamantium!

Marc threw himself into an aerial roundhouse kick that would've taken Callista's head off if she hadn't ducked. "Don't delude yourself," she mocked him as she slashed upward. "Chuck Norris you're not!"

The billionaire was able to throw up another energy shield to block the slash, even as out of position as he was. "You just love to talk, don't you?"

"That's rich, coming from you." Callista blurred out of visibility and proceeded to deluge Marc with a flurry of claw strikes, forcing him to parry. "All those press conferences, phone calls and meetings you're part of every day? All that sweet-talking you probably give to Aryu? Please. You're an expert at running your mouth, and you just don't want to show it!"

"Try getting your facts straight before you accuse me of anything." Marc broke Callista's combo with an energy wave from his armor's chest, driving her back. The wave split against a bluish-gray energy bubble that snapped into existence around his target, and the shield held long enough for the attack to expend itself. "Mrs. Aryu is my partner in the business world and nothing more."

"Your domestic partner, you mean," Callista shot back, Shape-Shifter morphing into one of the Infinite Defense's standard-issue disintegration guns. "I'd recognize that dreamy look from the news photos anywhere. You might've fooled the public at large, but you're not going to fool me!" She took aim at one of the armor's limbs and fired, the weapon emitting a silvery streak of light that was lethal to the touch.

Marc side-stepped the beam easily---then visibly started as it made an incredibly sharp turn three feet out, flying straight at him. He charged into the wedding hall, the floor shaking with each thunderous step. In passing he grabbed the remains of the altar and hurled it at the beam... which tunneled straight through it without slowing down. The thrown altar forced Callista to evade and let it crash somewhere behind her, but it didn't do anything to stop the immediate threat.

"So incredibly bull-headed," Callista cat-called once she'd gotten back into position. "Always thinking that power's the answer to everything. Life is not a china shop, bumbling clown!"

"I'm bull-headed? That's appropriate," Marc countered, firing twin bolts from his hand. One of them curved out of sight, its aim thrown off; the other struck the disintegration beam, destabilizing it as it reached the limits of its range. "Considering that you fight like a cow."

Unlike a real bull---or cow, come to think of it---Callista literally saw red at the insult. "Alright, that's it. The next person who calls me that today is gonna---GRRRKK!"

She never finished that thought as the bolt she'd thought had gone off course curved around through the damaged walls to strike her in the back.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Behind his helmet, Marc smirked as Callista's dress utterly fell apart around her. His smirk shifted to a scowl when he realized that she'd planned ahead: beneath the dress was not the shredded remnants of her modesty, but what official sources had stated was her "official" ensemble. The gray "Cats rule" T-shirt, frayed knee-length jean shorts and sandals not only looked as if she'd been wearing them the whole time, but his sensor suite was telling him that they were impervious to conventional damage. His repulsor blast hadn't so much as phased them.

Callista herself had stumbled and almost fallen fowards, clearly taken off guard by Marc's sneak attack. Willing to bet that she'd still been hurt by it even if her clothes had no-sold it, he jetted back to the reception area and swung at her face. At the last possible moment he saw a look of panic cross her face, something he reveled in.

Unlike all of Marc's previous attempts at landing a physical blow, this strike actually landed. Callista wobbled unsteadily after the impact, then collapsed unceremoniously to the ground. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she blacked out.

That's one problem out of the way, Marc thought, chuckling softly. For all of her speed and versatility, she's little more than a glass cannon. Now then, let's see about keeping her unconscious until I can get her back to the estate.

With a mental command, his armor went to work re-modifying its limbs. A full set of tranquilizers fully loaded with his more potent drugs made themselves known, and he stooped down to inject them into Callista's limbs.

...

...

...

...

A spike of pain in her head. Swirls of colors dancing everywhere, her vision swimming...

--"Hmmm. I was expecting someone a little older, but you'll do."--

Some rustling, then an unexpected chill that made her shiver. Unclipped fingernails triggering an agonized gasp that was cut off before it began, a large hand slamming her mouth shut...

--"Stay quiet. I don't want anyone out there hearing you scream. Looking gorgeous, little girl. Relax, I'm going to give you the time of your life..."--

A heart that knew true fear for perhaps the first time...

--"Huh? Why is this purse in the way? ...Well, I'm going to need some cash, so why no---ARGH!"--

A surprised shout as Shape-Shifter triggered its systems of its own volition, giving her a chance to recover her senses...

--"$%&&^ little !@#!^, I can't feel my arm--"

Fury just barely kept in check as she interrupted him coldly, not wanting to clue her traveling companions in that anything was wrong just yet...

--"Shut up. No words. No complaints. You know what you tried to do. Just shut up and flee. Flee for your life."--

Hastened footsteps that scrambled for the exit as he took her words to heart, looking back at her as he ran as fast as he could go...

And a face that would forever be seered into her memory.

...

...

...

...

Callista's eyes refocused with a suddenness that made Marc stumble backwards. "NINE LIVES EMERGENCE!" she screamed, getting everyone's attention---

/-/-/-/-/

D.C. gave her counterpart a not-so-friendly smack on the shoulder as she vanished into the void. "That's my cue. Later, loser!" she laughed, particles fading away.

L.C. shook her head, long used to those flippant dismissals, and waited patiently for her own turn---

/-/-/-/-/

---and everything calico on her ears, ruff and tail tip turned black. Sneering at what he thought was a minor cosmetic change, Marc switched from his tranquilizers to his missile launchers and fired at her point-blank, all the better to make sure she stayed down---

From his perspective, the missiles disappeared outright. Callista's claws lashed out faster than his armor could track at this stage, slicing through the projectiles with uncanny accuracy. Then again. Three times. Five. Ten. A hundred. A million. Beyond all counting.

What finally struck Callista was a comparatively harmless vapor consisting of a vast multitude of atoms that, just a split second earlier, had been missiles capable of cratering much of the property on their own... and this was while she'd been flat on her back. It was a blatant spit in the face of reality, but it was as Aldonza had implied towards Viridi earlier: Kittenoan physics only meshed with realistic laws when they wanted them to. The vapor blew away and dispersed on the next air draft.

While Marc digested what had just happened, Callista climbed to her feet. There was something not quite right about her expression. Before she'd been fully willing to banter, make wisecracks, and snap light-heartedly at whatever was happening. But now it was as if a facade had been ripped away, showing the grief, pain and unyielding rage that she'd been suppressing with Kaoru's help for twelve years. "It was you back then," she hissed. "You did this to me."

"You'll have to be more specific," Marc told her coldly as he backed off to a safe distance, mentally triggering every analytic system his suit offered and quickly poring over the data that raced across his HUD. It was clearly a Super Mode of some sort that his foe had activated, but the specifics of it he wasn't fully aware of yet. Better safe than sorry.

It was clearly not the answer Callista was looking for, seeing how tears were seeping past her fur to drop towards the floor. Her words were being forcibly yanked through her teeth. "Your face... your actions... just looking at you makes my chest burn. It... it just hurts too much! How can anyone do those things to others and treat it as just another day? How?!"

"Valentine's Day has already passed," Marc replied as he aimed one of his hands at her. "It's a little late to be pouring out your heart to someone."

To Marc's surprise, Callista's appearance shrunk and shifted to that of a 13-year-old human in what looked like a cross between a magical girl uniform and a personalized mech-suit, both in green and gold while leaving only her face uncovered. "What she's trying to say," the already-transformed Glacial Buttercup informed him, her javelin-esque spiked hammer resting against her shoulder, "is that 12 years ago, either you or someone with your face quite literally manhandled her. Gave her those scars." Her expression soured. "Almost raped her, too. Not the right thing to do to anyone, least of all someone who'd been male just half a year before."

"I'd say whoever it was tried to copy me," Marc said, weapons charging with a malignant glow, "because I think I'd remember if I had my way with someone like her."

"Which confirms that whoever was responsible was an A.U. counterpart of yours." Buttercup readied her hammer, taking a battle ready stance. "Not that it's going to help you any, you psychopathic freak. So if you value your life, don't say anything about my uniform."

Marc smirked mockingly, even dimming his visor so that his new enemy could see it. "Nice skirt," he stated, firing an energy blast as large as he was out of his hand...

...only to see it swatted aside by Buttercup's hammer one-handed, smashing through the ceiling overhead. Debris rained down on her, but she ignored them. "And there it is!" she growled, layered in an aura of lime green flames as the tomboy's anger spiked. "Thanks for nailing my Berserk Button!" She flipped up and slammed the hammer against the ground, launching a massive blast of her own at Marc that tore up the floor as it went. "Graviton Drive!"

Marc triggered his armor's leg-based boosters, kicking the projectile through the hole Buttercup had created moments before--and noticed the sudden ice buildup on his foot. Left alone it would slow him down, and while most would consider it minor, he was up against two fighters in one body: one with an obvious grudge and an emphasis on speed, and the other an apparent superhero who focused on pure power. He knew he would need every edge he could get, so he increased his suit's temperature to melt the ice...

...but was interrupted just after he began. Buttercup had shifted back to Callista, who had charged at him at speeds his suit had finally calculated to be approximately nine times the speed of light. She leapt into the air and threw herself into a spin, hands held out as if they were holding something. "Hurricane---" she began, switching back over to Buttercup in mid-motion. "---Lutz!"

Keeping pace, Marc mentally triggered the formation of a four-layered energy shield just before Buttercup's hammer struck him. Speed and power combined together to generate a force that shattered all four layers into a multitude of shards, smashing Marc clear through multiple walls onto the tennis courts. As he skidded to a stop, he noted Zapana's Starflare barrier past the ruined eastern wall and told himself to stay away from it: the temperature he was reading from it was leagues greater than he was able to withstand.

Callista sped after him, tears flying past her face and her purse clutched in both hands. The bag changed shape, morphing into a glaive that any decent fan of Sailor Moon would have recognized on sight. "Give me back," she blared as she closed in, her voice alone making the surroundings tremble, "what's rightfully mine!"

"You can't receive what you've never had!" was Marc's rebuff as he re-oriented himself, turning his armor into a momentary conflagration and melting the ice that Buttercup's strike had left behind. His suit's forearms became wreathed with electricity, and he caught the Silence Glaive's handle with the blade an inch away from where his armor's reactor was placed. Dialing up the voltage, he sent it down the Glaive's length to try and electrocute Callista into submission.

Said try failed miserably as Buttercup took charge again, her costume absorbing the lion's share of the voltage. In the rock-paper-scissors triangle that was Megaman Zero's elements, ice beat electricity any day. "Long day on the course, so I'm hitting me an albatross! FORE!" she called, yanking her weapon free and golfing Marc through the ceiling with it. The force of her strike blasted the roof apart, leaving the last of the courts bereft of elemental protection.

Amidst the airborne debris, Marc re-oriented himself. His scanners noted that the traitor fox was airborne over his pet robot watching it, and for a fraction of a second he toyed with sending some weapons fire her way. He dismissed the notion when he decided that would get the attention of not just her but also the DJ, forcing him to fight what was essentially a 4-on-1. Instead he used the debris to hide a full-scale launch of every warhead his suit carried, intending to catch his target off-guard with raw firepower.

"Silence Glaive Surprise!"

He had scarce seconds to react when a wave of pure purple-tinted void rippled outward from Callista's position; the debris and missiles came in contact with it and simply ceased to be, consumed without any sort of explosion. Heeding the blaring warning from his HUD, Marc shifted far enough off to the side that it took him out of the attack's range.

As the void passed him by, Marc quickly assessed the options to him that were available. Callista and Buttercup clearly didn't care about collateral damage, but they only stopped holding back once the wedding guests were out of danger. In addition the latter was fully flight-capable, so staying out here in the air was getting to be a bad idea. Better get indoors, then, he decided, smashing straight down through the roof into the hallway. I can always replace all of this later.

"Oh, no you don't!" Buttercup shouted as she flew to meet him from the other end, hammer already raised to swing---but he twisted up and over, barely clearing her without damaging what was left of the ceiling. He shot another repulsor blast at her back, fully expecting Callista to reappear and counter it, and wasn't disappointed when the mutant pivoted and reduced it to particles.

Marc was happy to note that his armor had fully adapted to Callista's speed by now: he could actually keep pace with her movements. He ripped a still-standing door off its hinges and chucked it at her, taking advantage of the cover to return to the reception hall. As expected she was not far behind, spitting fury. She didn't seem to have noticed or cared that the armor was as fast as she was now.

I think I've seen everything I've needed to see by now. Nick Danger, load database, Marc mentally transmitted through his suit's neural uplink as he peppered the air and ground with low-power laser beams, keeping Callista on the move. Finally, she was on the defensive. Summarize all of the current target's known abilities from our records and merge with onboard data analysis.

His computer responded immediately. Primary records not found. Redirecting... ... redirecting... ... connected to off-site backups. ... Current form is labeled NINE LIVES EMERGENCE: AGGRESSION. Approximate top speed is 9.001x lightspeed. Has a level of physical strength associated with an average athletic female. Anger, anxiety and stress levels average 94.26 out of 100. Psionic Level: 100 out of 100. Prudishness Level: 92 out of 100. Common Sense: 8 out of 100. Threat level: Himitsu.

Marc wasn't sure what to be more annoyed at: that his primary storage facility was offline---most likely destroyed, if there was any sort of pattern present---or that his armor had labeled her as much of a threat as the Brotherhood's long-disappeared mazoku commander. Deciding to dismiss that, he smiled. I have your number now, you diabetes-inducing eye candy. One of his fists began glowing. First, a little something to throw you off balance... He jumped forwards to try to grab Callista and chuck her towards the ceiling, aiming for a very specific area.

As predicted, Callista spat something--not profane, but not polite either--and twisted herself down and away from Marc's hand. She threw herself into a spin, trying to slash through Marc's armor but missing by scant millimeters when he went evasive---

Marc's smile became more slasher-esque, and all at once he flooded his mind with mental images of everything he wished he could do to Callista in private. Nothing was held back, no matter how crass or vulgar it was---

He knew he'd succeeded when Callista gasped and stopped in her tracks, taken off guard by Marc's unexpected psychic assault. She slammed one hand against her chest and the other against her forehead as if she were in immense physical pain, a wail escaping past her teeth.

Circe had told him that she was poor with distractions. Given Callista's morality and personal history that was the best one he could've possibly used, and he was willing to guess that Buttercup wasn't exempt from it either. Taking full advantage of it, he leveled his glowing hand at Callista's abdomen. "NEUTRON SHATTER!"

Something imploded as the sparkling blast struck and traveled straight to Callista's cells. At their very cores, the nuclei inexplicably split apart and disintegrated as they were overtaxed, dying. Outwardly, this would be evident through a massive portion of her skin and fur turning an unhealthy shade of gray, though much of both were still concealed. Inwardly, it triggered every pain sensor in the affected area, temporarily overwhelming her brain and causing her to scream much louder---

Marc took advantage of the opening this gave him, muffling Callista's racket by grabbing her face with one hand. "All of your belligerence means nothing," he intoned, ignoring the claws frantically trying to dig into his suit's arm as he lifted her up to eye level. "I've got places to be and you're going with me, so be silent and still."

With that he slammed his fist into Callista's stomach with his free hand, letting go of her face with the same motion. "CALLI!" he heard the rebellious bridesmaid cry out, but he paid her no mind as the mutant catgirl crashed into a pillar backfirst and slid to the floor. The background music inexplicably petered out, but this too was ignored.

Marc smiled as he watched Callista twitch feebly, eyes open just a sliver but unable to hold any malice. Circe walked up to stand by his side; she seemed a bit tired and battle weary, but she stood up straight and refused to show any signs of weakness. "This... yes, this is what it's all about," he proclaimed. "Sweet, sweet victory."

"You haven't won yet!" the DJ was heard barking from beyond the fire wall. "Hope you're set for Round Three, Your Ugliness, because your fall just got seven months closer!"

Just to be sure, Marc re-scanned Callista's prone form. He believed his HUD when it told him that her physical strength was virtually non-existent by now, and her body too wracked with pain to allow her to get up. And even if she could keep fighting, what could she possibly do to counter his advances?

No, he told himself. She's done. All that's left is to exterminate the remaining saboteurs and bring the both of them to my estate, and compared to the morass that was this fight, that should be simple. I can work on acquiring all of their respective businesses and assets, I can have this facility rebuilt, and that will be that.

I win. I always win.


/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

...

At the border of consciousness and forced sleep, a familiar scene played out. Where before she felt anger, now she only felt anxiety and a deep sense of pain.

"Sister? Big sis, where are you?"

No response. Only footsteps leading away.

"Sister? ...Wait, where are you going?"

A silhouette. An umbrella?... No, just a wide hairstyle. It said nothing, did nothing to respond to her cries.

"Don't leave me here! Please...!"

At last, a response. The vague humming of a lullaby reached her. She didn't know the song, but she did recognize the source. 'Pan's Labyrinth', wasn't it...?

"Please... wherever you're going... at least say good-bye...!"

The silhouette inclined its head in her direction, but this time it stopped humming. The footsteps stopped, and it turned to face her. "Are you feeling better, imōto-chan?" it asked, a minute bit of quirkiness in its voice.

Taken off guard by this development, she lost track of what she wanted to say. "...Huh?"

"I asked if you're feeling better, imōto-chan."

She sighed as she got her act back together. "...No. No I'm not."

"Any reason why? ... Oh~, I see. It was because of me, wasn't it?"

"Well,
duh. You took off for who-knows-where without so much as a note, and then you never came back! How did you expect me to react? That I'd just take it lying down and continue living my life as if nothing was wrong? No! I had been away from my real family for thirteen years before I met you, you miserable lush!" Her words, which had started off calm, slowly degenerated into a storm of sadness and unparalleled anger. "You were the closest thing to a true sister that I'd known since I was forced to leave everyone behind! But you were in my life for only what, three years? Four, max? And then you go and take a hike without any real warning! You're asking if it was because of you? You bet your sentient sign-waving tail it was b-because of you! I've b-been waiting f-for the longest time f-for y-you to either c-come back, or at least s-say good-bye like the last f-few people did!..."

Having finally had a chance to talk after all these years, she ranted for what felt like an hour, but wasn't much more than a few minutes. It got to the point where she ran out of things to complain about and just started repeating herself, eventually just mumbling incomprehensibly as she found it impossible to see past her tears. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this much grief.

Finally, the silhouette decided that it had heard enough. It rested a hand on her shoulder, then placed a finger on her lips when that failed to silence her. "You have to understand, imōto-chan. I am not immortal, nor am I tied to any particular place. Any number of things could have happened to hinder or halt my return, ne~? Maybe I decided to chase after a missing dream, or decided that I'd learned what I'd needed to and returned home. It could be that my bad habits finally caught up with me. Perhaps I even drank something that I shouldn't have---even I have limits, you know. Without the ability to reverse death inherent in the Villes, maybe it's only places like here that we can truly meet again. Who knows~?"

She could not bring herself to speak, as trying to absorb every word was hard enough. As such, she was caught off guard when the silhouette gave her a one-handed hug. "But with that said, there's something I would like you to remember. Even though you may never see me again, I have never ever stopped thinking of you as a cute and awesome little sister. I miss you just as much as you miss me, even if showing it to the full is beyond me. Whatever you do and wherever you go, you will always have my support. Death herself cannot stop that fact." A quirky smile. "We should know that by now, considering how often we've experienced it~."

She hiccupped and returned the silhouette's hug. Her nose wrinkled a little. "I g-get the feeling I should be r-running the washer later. You reek l-like you've been chugging c-cases of Corona, and t-that's enough to make a p-person sick," she managed to choke out.

Raising its free hand, the silhouette lightly smacked her forehead with its index and middle fingers. "Boke," it whispered, never once dropping its smile. "That one was awful."

"Sister, it's m-me. Did you r-really expect anything l-less?"

"Not really." The figure's ears twitched. "Though I think my time here's ended. Your fellow ruffians are calling you."

She reluctantly let go, and felt the silhouette do the same. "I guess this is the last time we'll be meeting, huh?"

The figure shrugged. "Probably, given that life with all its troubles is moving ahead of us. Though there's still enough time for one last parting gift." It tapped its fingers against its lips before pressing them into her forehead. "My apology for all the trouble my disappearance caused you. Never forget me, and I'll never forget you." A toothed smile as bright as the sun. "Sweet dreams and good-bye, imōto-chan. Knock 'em dead~."

As the silhouette waved her farewell and vanished along with the dream, offering a glimpse of blonde hair tipped a very dark brown before it was gone for good, a more uplifting melody than that lullaby wrapped itself around her. As she lost herself in it, Callista found herself experiencing a sensation she hadn't felt in years.

Delirium.

Euphoria.

Bliss.


/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

D.C. rematerialized, slapping her counterpart's hand with her own. "Tag in," she ordered. "Square it away!"

A nod. "I'll be back shortly," L.C. said as she dematerialized.

A soft chortle as the darkness leaned back in a recliner. Those poor schmoes aren't going to know what hit them.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

In a flash, Callista's ebony markings turned to snow. This didn't give Marc and Circe pause, but her standing up and opening her diamond-like eyes did. "You're sure she was finished?" the sorceress asked. "Shutting off her pain receptors is a favorite trick of hers. Want me to ensure she stays down?"

Callista wobbled unsteadily, wincing, then straightened. "It's over," she breathed, words directed at no one in particular. Her ears twitched as she heard Zapana cheering. "No worries, Kaoru. I'll be alright. Everything's okay now. Your job's done. Take it easy."

"I think she's delirious," Marc answered low enough for everyone except to Circe to miss it entirely. "Full of issues, isn't she? It shouldn't take much for me to finish what I started. Sit back and enjoy the show."

Circe obligingly took a few steps back. "It'll be nice to finally end this farce. Callista?" she addressed her, raising her voice to be heard over the music that had started up again. "You're going to regret not having your belongings packed. You can either join us on your own power or make us carry you, but either way this is your last chance to call it quits."

Callista slowly shook her head and sighed. "Not going to happen."

Marc's hands aimed at her, charging up another Neutron Shatter. "And what, pray tell, is going to stop me from taking her? If turning black couldn't keep me from laying you out, what good is turning white going to do? I can stop you cold at any time, and you know it."

Callista didn't answer his claim. Instead she reverted Shape-Shifter back to its normal purse form and returned it to her shoulder, adjusting it a little. Picking up her fallen shopping bag which hadn't even been in the same room, she pulled some Dr. Pepper out and drank some of it down, relishing its taste as all the battle damage she'd sustained that day reversed itself. When she switched her pain receptors back on, her brain reported a figurative 'all clear'.

Marc snarled, and his hands' glow doubled in intensity. "Are you even paying attention to me, you little furry wretch?"

"Compliment received in the spirit it was intended," Callista answered, punctuating her comment with a yawn.

"That wasn't a compliment! NEUTRON---" Marc made to fire, but suddenly stopped as the glow receded. If someone listened carefully they could hear him mumbling: "Data not found... general drive error... what...?"

"For all of your foolhardy claims, you're right about one thing." The entire time she spoke, Callista never lost her beatific expression or peaceful tone of voice. It was hard to believe that she was even the same person. "I have issues, too many to count, and I don't expect to resolve them all by the time I die a natural death. It's too easy for me to completely lose myself in my emotions at the slightest provocation. As far back as I can recall, I've never been a stable person."

"'Stable' in the loosest definition of the word, of course," a plushie of Zelas Metallium pointed out before vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

The mutant deliberately turned her back on Marc, staring up at what was left of the ceiling. She didn't seem to have realized that the plushie had even been there. "But it doesn't matter in the long run. For all of my faults, people have been willing to put up with me. I have friends and family here who care about me in their own twisted ways. No tricks, no manipulation, no fooling." She noticed Circe open her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but ended up keeping silent.

Marc tried again to shut Callista's mental faculties down using the same tactic as previous... only this time there was no recognition of his thoughts at all. As he wondered what had changed, the mutant did not stop talking. "The point I'm trying to make is that if I can come to grips with everything and calm myself down, then everything changes. I'm content with my lot in life. Nothing matters anymore. I just can't bring myself to be angry or even apathetic with any of it. It's all... irrelevant."

"You talk too much, dragon hugger!" Marc erupted, fed up with Callista's serenity. "Just lay down and submit yourself to me already!" Unable to fire his chosen weapon or render her helpless anymore, he instead sent the armor rocketing at her across the ground.

"Let me repeat myself," Callista reminded him, completely ignoring both the charge and the Bahija-related insult. "It's over. Quantum Cutters." She helped herself to a brownie off the dessert table and tossed it in her mouth---

And in mid-step, Marc's gaudy and powerful armor dissolved into so much vapor that blew away on the next gust of wind, causing him to stumble and plow into the ground just shy of the dessert table. There wasn't even any visual evidence that she had attacked.

"OWNED!" Zapana howled distantly.

Some of the guests applauded politely, most of them from Circe's faction. Claire was much less restrained, cheering and leaping in the air as high as she safely could. Elk was waving a PFL pennant with Callista's face on it in one hand, and a giant foam finger on the other; where he got those items from on short notice is a question best left unanswered. Ellen was as silent as ever, though a paper-crafted smiley face was floating next to her. Those maids who weren't cheering just continued to watch nervously.

With a handful of exceptions, Marc's faction was completely silent. Most of them had faces that ranged from 'I can't believe this is happening!' to 'Foul! She can't do that!' Circe's own expression warred between disbelief and a mounting anger as she realized that her betrothed wasn't going to win this one.

Callista helped herself to a few snacks from the buffet, completely unmoved as she worked to offset her inevitable exhaustion.

Marc's hand tried to seize Callista's foot, but she was seven feet away before he could complete the attempt. "You sneak," he seethed as he stood up, full of menace and vehemence. "You little furry sneak. You were toying with me, weren't you? Toying with me! You could have ended it at any time just by doing that! What, did you just feel like getting some exercise first?"

"It's not that simple," Callista said, slowly shaking her head. "Have you never considered that I might have a very good excuse for not fighting you at my best from the start?" Marc started to interrupt her, but a piece of duct tape slammed over his mouth seemingly of its own accord. "I've never wanted power. Never deliberately sought it out. No point in having it if people are just going to abuse it. But as long as I do have it, I'm going to make sure any reasons I have for using it are iron-clad." Another brownie disappeared into her mouth. "Because when you get right down to it, what practical use could there be for claws that---at their sharpest and fastest---can atomize reality and kill time and space itself?"

Points were allotted to Marc for ripping the tape off his mouth without so much as flinching, although it took a few hairs off his mustache with it. "And you don't freely exercise this why? You could easily become the most powerful mortal in existence. No one would be surprised if you joined the level of the gods themselves. You say there's no point in having power if it's just going to be abused? No! Having power is the point in itself!"

"And that, vulgar scumbag, is why she's a better human than you. Try wrapping your head around that statement."

Everyone looked towards what was left of the wedding hall. Viridi and Missy had just entered; both looked as if neither of them had sustained any battle damage at all, despite them having engaged in what was essentially Muffin-grade warfare. Right behind them were a small pile of unconscious mercenaries---cocooned like Phosphora had done to Mrs. Aryu---who had tried and failed to break the duo's blockade. "Why're you saying that to him?" Missy grumbled dismissively to her archenemy. "He's not going to listen to that anymore than I would. Ten to one he's going to say that he's in the right---"

"---no matter what you say!" Marc was shouting, only to pause and do a double-take. "What the..."

Missy nodded sagely. "Didn't even have to use up all my minutes for that one."

Someone's feet was heard shuffling. Marc saw a brown-haired woman in a modified Japanese school uniform stumble into the area. She seemed burned, scraped up, and all-around on edge. "And what are you doing here?" he sneered at her.

Tears fell from the woman's eyes. "Sorry, Mr. Maddhouse," she confessed, her accent left intact just enough to identify her as his best man; this recognition made his eyes widen. "They got meeee..."

Missy immediately bolted after her, staff glowing with a malevolent light. "DEATH TO THE FUKU!"

The woman screamed hysterically and took off, making tracks over the demolished walls for the distant horizon. Missy didn't bother pursuing her very far, instead pointing at her with a laugh; a squad of stormtroopers left over from her battle took up the chase in her stead, their shots hitting everything except the woman.

Marc's hands tightened as he saw Dean flee in the face of Missy's insanity. "Not you too...!"

"When you have power over others, your right is to use it responsibly," Callista informed him, throwing some trash away. Some observant guests noticed that the rest of the blueberry cheesecake and a heaping helping of tuna casserole had gone missing; they looked up just in time to see several slices of plastic-wrapped wedding cake disappear into her shopping bag. "People like you who think you're above consequences, who think women only exist to give you pleasure and be controlled? It was only a matter of time before someone put you in your place. It's only fitting that the person who does it was once a male herself."

"Listen to yourself. You saying I'm being controlled somehow? Bu$#^!#$," Circe protested. "I would not be in love with this man if that were the case. You know me better than that!"

"Two words, Circe: flash drives," Callista said, not letting Marc out of her direct line of sight.

"'Flash drives'? What are you---"

"So what?" Marc interrupted with a sniff, arrogance not effected in the least. "All I'm hearing from that is that you just admitted to being transgender. That means nothing to me."

"It's amazing how much you know about me is based on assumptions," Callista replied, not giving in to the jab. "You assumed I was average just because I'm physically weak compared to other fighters in Muffinville. That my intelligence is subpar just because you have a genius I.Q. That just because I look weak, simple-minded and cute, that makes me an easy target. That just because I chose not to kill you with my full power, I was deliberately toying with you. That I was 'transgender' just because I was born male, yet I self-identify as a girl. By the time we're finished here, the Mirage of Deceit is going to prove you wrong about each one of those." A tiny smile graced her lips. "Whether you like it or not."

"Seriously," Circe tried to cut in, slowly losing her battle with her temper. "What the #$&% do you mean by 'flash drives'?"

"You just answered your own question, sorceress," Viridi chided her. "Nice choice of words, by the way."

"What are you talking abo---"

Callista held up a hand, still addressing Marc. "Before I forget... you know what the kicker is? I didn't even have to worry about you trying to violate me. Kittenoans, be they natural-born or created through mutations like the one I received as a child, are completely incapable of having intercourse with humans... their anatomy and genetics are just too different. Once my rage subsided enough for me to remember that, everything fell into place. Your sickening thoughts, your perversive existence... they have no hold on me. At all. Really, this entire battle was over before it began."

The sinking disbelief on Marc's face told her that she'd finally succeeded in demoralizing him. She took a few steps away before deciding it was safe to turn her back on him. "But in the event that you still don't believe you're thoroughly outclassed..." Callista gestured to the still burning Starflare, visible past the partially-demolished hallway. "Then sit back and witness. It's time for you to see just how little of a chance you stood in the long run." Her eyes flicked at Circe for a moment. "And that means you too."

Circe's response was to charge energy into her arm, looking more stressed than she'd been when Ellen and Elk had been keeping her at bay. Callista guessed that she was trying to focus enough power to use Nappa's Volcano Explosion technique, a gift from a death crystal she'd left behind some years back. Can't have that, she thought, focusing.

A telekinetic gesture disrupted Circe's concentration, pushing her into a chair and pinning her there with the back of her own dress. The energy she'd gathered flew out of control and soared over the guests' heads, making them flinch as it detonated against the wall... but Ellen's shields were fast enough to keep the blast from reaching them. Callista transmitted a -"Thanks"- to the younger girl, and heard a -"...You're welcome"- in response.

Circe tried to pull herself free, but both she and the chair refused to move. "This isn't funny, Callista! Let me out of this!"

"Begging to differ!" Missy crowed. "So begging to differ! Bwahahahahaha!"

"Shut up, you!"

"Missy, stop antagonizing the angry witch," Callista ordered, not once raising her voice.

"Angry witch? More like angry b---d'oh!" Missy tried to retort, only to get clocked senseless by Viridi's staff. "Ooh, birdies~. Is it spring already~?"

Callista nodded in appreciation (to which Viridi mouthed "You owe me"), then tilted her head meaningfully at Marc; the billionaire scowled and refused to sit down, but didn't look like he was about to go anywhere. "Thank you. Now, then. Aldonza? Zapana? Sorry for the wait. You have your orders."

Neither of them answered, but the Starflare fizzled out of existence... and no time was wasted as the crab mech went back on the warpath. The air once more lit up with lasers, noise, and high-octane firepower... but the saboteurs knew that these amounted to nothing more than death throes.

Not much longer.

/-/-/-/-/
/-/-/-/-/

EDITED 9-2-2022: The music link found in Callista's heart-to-heart with Bliss was broken at some point, so I had to track down the song on YouTube again.
Last edited by AmbushCat on Fri Sep 02, 2022 10:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Thu Oct 08, 2020 6:14 pm

One more chapter, and then the epilogue. I've actually had a decent chunk of this written out for the past few months. It was just a matter of editing and updating it as the last few chapters progressed.

Here goes nothing.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Taking Out the Trash
Chapter Nine

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"'Sorry for the wait', she says. Why's she apologizing for offering me a good time?"

"Most people don't think that fighting a robot that's gone next-level qualifies as a good time, Zapana!"

"Then those people seriously need to get out more. Nothing wrong with dressing up just for the sake of dressing up!"

"Again, not what most people mean...!"

"Aw, cool your jets. She gave a good speech. I liked listening to it. Whatcha complaining about?"

As soon as Callista had given the order to finish what they visited the rec-center to do, Zapana had dropped her Starflare barrier. Almost immediately, the crab mech---and it still bugged her that they'd never gotten an official name for it---began deluging them with most of its arsenal. Based on the I.D.'s analysis of the machine and her own observations, she guessed that the robot had taken the time trapped by the barrier to reproduce more of its physical weaponry and recharge everything else. Not that it mattered; the both of them were still much too fast for it, as Marc apparently hadn't seen fit to outfit it with his suit's adaptation technology.

Zapana had worked out exactly how much force was needed to unbalance the machine and send it flying without causing its reactor to go critical. In order to utilize the alternate method Aldonza had suggested, it was required for them to relocate to another fighting ground. As such, the both of them were luring the crab over to the tennis courts where the crowd of guests could see them better, exchanging banter the whole time. It helped that Missy and Viridi, its original targets, had joined everyone in the reception hall. The trick was to draw a fine line between actually luring the crab and outright fighting it, but as far as could be seen they were doing a decent job.

That's not to say everything was coming up roses. The robot had gained a new trick in the interim: grenades filled with nerve and mustard gas were beginning to make things a bit dicey. After the first time Aldonza had fully healed from being struck with one, she went out of her way to make sure the mech didn't successfully use any more by outright blasting them out of the air with hurricane-force bursts. The grenades were carried away, arcing into the open sub-basement on the far side of the facility, and any lingering gas in the vicinity was erased from existence by Zapana's flames. The wolf made a note to dispose of the rest downstairs later.

At last the robot was in position. Zapana regarded Aldonza briefly, and they smirked at each other as Viridi's words cut across their minds. Time to end this.

/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/

Mind working fast as he sought a way out of this situation, Marc watched with frustration as the DJ and the traitor fox danced around the crab mech, yanking its figurative chain this way and that while nicely evading nearly everything it could offer.

I should have done some scans of them while I had the chance. I'd like nothing more than to figure out why their attacks aren't being nullified by the anti-magic measures I had installed! Is nothing going to go right for me today?!

...

Unbeknownst to him, there were several factors Marc had neglected to consider. The first was that while magic was a major factor in plenty of the abilities of Muffinville's residents, nullifying that magic actually made the situation a bit dicier for him. Aldonza possessed a Jusenkyo curse which would have turned her into a normal human upon contact with cold water, but the anti-magic's area of effect served to nullify that curse, keeping her in peak condition.

The second was that Aldonza and Zapana's combat abilities were the product of genetic mutations, enhancements, and--in Zapana's case--alterations, without an ounce of magic associated with either. They weren't humans that were magically transformed into animal-esque bipeds: they were Kittenoans, interdimensional space aliens in every sense of the term. If anything, magic on their homeworld was dying.

The third was that while combat mechs of that size were dangerous, it was nothing the two of them hadn't faced before. The both of them combined had at least sixty years of combat experience under their belts, and they had faced no shortage of oddities in that time. Fighting giant robots was old hat to them.

The fourth and biggest factor was that while the machine's defenses were powerful, they still had limits. It was that plain and simple.

Everyone watched as the robot was lured to the northwest corner of the tennis courts, at which point the two fighters seemed to stop for a quick breather. -"What are you two waiting for?"- Viridi demanded impatiently. -"Just destroy it already. We know you're capable of it!"-

-"Maybe, maybe not,"- Zapana commented. For reasons Marc didn't get, there was plenty of mirth in her tone. -"There's the little matter of not wanting to nuke this place today. I hate to say it, but destroying it my preferred way is a rotten idea."-

-"So, yeah. Totally off the table,"- Aldonza added. She too sounded amused. -"And if we can't do it ourselves..."-

Many of those watching, including Marc, thought that the unspoken words were along the lines of "we'll go down swinging" or "we'll hold the line while everyone leaves". The reality of the situation was far more optimistic.

Aldonza's fists tightened, and with a fierce bark that startled everyone her orange fur turned a startlingly hot pink. A sparking battle aura of the same color scorched the immediate vicinity as it blossomed to life. Her tail twisted in front of her, formulating a tornado as it went, and she directed her laser vision into it. "Tail Laser Cannon!"

An emerald energy beam several meters in diameter struck one of the mech's eyes---by complete coincidence, the same one Claire had blasted earlier. While the crab was designed to withstand intense heat, its optical shields needed to be made of less sturdier materials in order for its eyes to do the job they were designed for... and the T.L.C. was first created to bypass defenses anyway. The beam washed against the eye for a few seconds before finally melting through. The resulting explosion wrecked half of its optics and---as a bonus---damaged the micro-factories responsible for producing its gas grenades beyond repair.

Aldonza shut off her laser vision and slowed down her tail. "You can do better than that," she shouted, waving the mech towards her. "C'mon!"

Thus challenged, the crab brought its full arsenal to bear on her. Aldonza's limbs and tail vanished from sight, punching, kicking and slapping aside every energy bolt, bullet, missile and grappling hook that flew her way. That wasn't to say she was unharmed from all of this, but for now her regeneration and Combat Drive were helping her stay the course. Occasionally she directed some of the projectiles back at the crab, making sure it stayed focused on her, but the majority of them instead decimated those parts of the building that hadn't entirely collapsed yet. Before long only the western conference rooms were still standing, and even then there were significantly large holes all over the place.

While distracted in this way, there wasn't anything the crab could do when Zapana approached it, fist already charged with black fire. With a grunt she started to lift it with her other arm, putting more force behind it than she had been using up to this point. Whirs and sparks could be heard as she destabilized and overworked via pure physical might every measure that was keeping the machine ground-bound. The more strength she exerted, the more the systems fizzled---

Another cannon dropped out of the crab's underside, aimed at Zapana's stomach, and fired. Fully occupied, she didn't even try to dodge it---

An eye blast from Aldonza caught the bolt, deflecting it off course even as she continued her role. Instead of Zapana's stomach, it nicked her in the side in passing before flying off to parts unknown. The wolf smiled gratefully, but when she spoke it was to the crab. "You call that defense-piercing? We'll show you defense-piercing! Hall of Holyfield!" Her flaming fist, backed up by a portion of her full power, arced upward and slugged the crab's underside.

The crab's armor stood up reasonably well against both the temperature- and phsyical-based aspects of the attack, but it was never Zapana's intention to finish it herself. Instead the crab was smashed end over end through the air, scattering anything in its flight path---including what was left of the ceiling and the courts' western wall. Thankfully the ever-observant Ellen knew to keep her cards mobile, blocking or destroying any debris that threatened the conference rooms' stability.

Marc shook his head. Raw power or not, it's going to take more than a single punch to destroy it. Defense-piercing, my---

"Go for it, Mini-Lina!" the gleeful Aldonza shouted at someone even as she struggled to stay upright. "It's all yours!"

...Wait a moment. 'Mini-Lina'? I don't remember seeing anyone else here, and I think my armor would have told me earlier if someone else had appeared mid-fight... Marc turned in the direction Aldonza had yelled in. Not seeing anyone, he grabbed a convenient pair of binoculars and double-checked---

Over the noise of battle, a soft yet dangerous voice echoed back to those present. "Lords of darkness of the four worlds..."

---there. On a roof across the street, at a business front that had escaped the worst of Missy and Viridi's little war, stood a foot-sized figurine. Marc focused the best he could, noticing the bright red-orange hair, the yellow and dark red traveling clothes---

"...I call upon you, grant me all the power you possess!..."

---and the four orbs equipped to her belt, wrists, and neck that were starting to glow red.

...Oh. Marc paled as he recognized who the figurine was modeled after. Well, %^&*# this situation, and %^&*# the marriage: they can keep her for all I care. I'm getting out of here while I still can! With a glimmer of light and a pop of rushing air he vanished from view, startling those who had been keeping their eyes on him.

Callista made no move to stop him, deciding to put her trust in her contingency plan instead.

...

Mini-Lina started into her windup even as Marc opted to skedaddle. "You of dreams that frighten... icy sword of darkness..."

The gargantuan crab began its downward descent, dropping down towards Mini-Lina. Undeterred by the growing shadow, her chant steadily rose in volume as she summoned the power of the entity responsible for the Mungojerrie's wards. "...free yourself and fuse with my power and body, that we may both traverse the path of destruction...!"

A thin pillar of inky black light and crackling energy formed out of nothingness. The figurine took hold of it, shaping it into one of the most dangerous weapons known to man. "Power that rings through the halls of the divine...!"

The crab had fallen far enough that it filled her field of vision entirely, and for a moment it looked as if she would be crushed beneath it---

"RAGNA BLADE!"

If anyone unfamiliar with her thought a pint-sized figurine meant a pint-sized chaos spell, they were shocked into silence. The Ragna Blade sliced through the robot with all of the size and fury of the original, primordial chaos treating all of its defenses as optional and entirely obliterating whatever it touched with casual ease---including the nuclear reactor, which never had the chance to destabilize. Mini-Lina pivoted and took an additional swing before letting go of the spell, annihilating the crab. Chunks of scorched metal and damaged machinery cratered the building's facade and the roof around her, but she ignored them.

A cracked microchip fell to the roof next to Mini-Lina. Scowling contemptuously, she stomped on it a few times to shatter it. "You see that? That's how you defeat giant robot crabs, people! And you don't even need Commando Bombs!" she hollered, planting her hands on her hips and laughing.

...

"Aldonza-chan," Zapana uttered dryly, a sweatdrop near her now-blue eye, "you're a bad influence on that doll."

Aldonza's pink fur faded pack to its regular orange and her battle aura vanished, her Combat Drive having run its course. "Oh, hush."

Beat.

"So... should I be worried that neither Ambush nor Marc seem to be anyplace around?" Aldonza asked, looking around.

Zapana took her time walking back to her station to stop the music. "Nah, don't bother. The situation's covered."

/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/

A block and a half away, Marc's teleport had dropped him in an alley behind a condemned hardware store. He didn't stay to see the crab mech's destruction, instead bolting away as far as he could and teleporting each time he regained the power to do so. Once he was within range of a cellphone tower that actually worked he intended to get into contact with his preferred lawyers, thus why he was keeping an eye on his phone as he fled. Since he couldn't best them on the field of battle, he'd have to settle for humiliating them in the courthouse.

As he paused to catch his breath in an alley adjacent to some shop or another, Marc thought back on everything that had gone wrong. Much like some of the guests he'd had a hand in inviting, he'd previously believed that the brilliant-minded Harrison girl had masterminded the entire attack. While her measured I.Q. came nowhere close to matching his and it was a tossup as to whether she would've been able to defeat his armor given time, she had a reputation for rarely ever putting her wrong foot forward and for being a fast learner. In addition she was frequently seen in Circe's company, so it stood to reason that she'd have a personal investment in the whole affair. But judging by the insurmountable chaos that had befallen the recreation center...

Now he understood why Callista's threat level had been labeled "Himitsu": she was as whimsical and dangerous as %$&#.

But I'm still here. She didn't catch me. I can recover from this. All I have to---

An easily-recognized raspy voice interrupted his musings. From where it was coming from, he couldn't determine. "Let me tell you something, housefly. There's a movie line that I've wanted to use in the proper context for years. Now that I have a specific excuse to go after you personally, I finally have that opportunity."

Maddhouse panicked as he realized the full impact of what was about to happen. He tried to flee, to quicken his pace---

---and was greeted with a purple gemstone, bright yellow eyes, and enough teeth to make the average dentist set for life. "Oh hai Marc," Ambush Cat chirped as she hung upside-down by her tail from a non-existent rafter. Her eyes blazed yellow, trapping the one who dared have his way with her friends and family within its virulent stare and bumping the 'Fear' center of the target's brain up to its maximum.

It doesn't matter if you're above the atmosphere or inside it: if you're in space, no one can hear you scream.

...

...

The door to the nondescript magic shop opened, and Raleigh leaned out to survey the area. Seeing and sensing nothing, he smiled knowingly and shut the door, returning to his business and content that there was no need for him to intervene.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

With the immediate threats dealt with, Callista allowed herself to drop back to her human form. Her eyes and hair remained snowy, her emotional high still far on the "positive" side of the scale. She registered the guests' thoughts and determined that no matter who they had supported, none of them were inclined to argue the issue. She saw Zapana enter and stop the music that was still playing, Aldonza splitting from her to fulfill her role as a medic. "Well then... mission accomplished?" the shopaholic asked after a few moments of silence.

Aldonza's tail lowered from Claire's neck and upper back, the maid's wounds fully healed. "Guess so. The wedding's been 'cancelled', the facility's in tatters, and the labs downstairs are unsalvagable. Can't really think of any loose ends..."

SNAP-HISS.

"Scratch that," Aldonza retracted as Circe teleported out of the chair she was stuck to, standing upright a foot away from it. "I guess there's a loose end after all."

Circe turned this way and that as if trying to detect something. "Marc!" she called. Getting no response, she turned to the only one present who could have been responsible for his disappearance. "Where did he go, Callista?" She marched towards her occasional landlord, hands tightened enough that her knuckles were turning white. "What did you do to him? What did you do to him?"

"I did nothing," Callista said. "He teleported away. And before you accuse me of lying to no avail, I heard his thoughts before he left. Mini-Lina's presence spooked him, and he decided to head for the hills."

"...He left me," Circe whispered, trembling. "He just left me at the altar..."

"The altar was totalled," Zapana reminded her, pointing at a particular piece of wreckage. "So it's more like he left you at a chair."

"Rrrrghh...!" Circe reached out and grabbed Callista's shoulders, pulling her into a face-to-face meeting; Aldonza tried to intercept, but her ex-boss waved her off. "Why, Callista? Tell me, why did you and yours deliberately go out of your way to make this one of the worst days of my life? All these years of 'friendship' and supporting me whenever you could, and you just go and betray me like this! Do you seriously hate me that much? WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!"

"To fulfill the creed of an old friend." Callista folded her arms as she spoke, unfazed by her predicament. "To paraphrase: 'Kill the darkness. Burn the angst. Purge the bad end.'"

For several moments, Circe looked as if she wanted a giant worm to erupt from the ground and devour Callista whole; her eyes were narrowed, her teeth were drawn back in a furious snarl, several veins around her forehead pulsed, and the temperature around her increased drastically. There was enough anger there that Callista shifted back to her hybrid form in case some additional combat was in order, her impending exhaustion notwithstanding. Across the room, Eebon and some others staggered and struggled to keep from passing out due to the malevolent aura that the sorceress was emitting. They'd seen her angry before, but never to the point where she was the embodiment of it...

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The sound of glass fragmenting, splintering and collapsing into dust as the pressure eclipsed what it could withstand, freeing what was trapped inside---

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

And said malevolence abruptly vanished as Circe's fury evaporated, causing most of those present to sag in relief. Her damaged wedding dress and footwear twisted and morphed back to her standard sorceress attire, her hair reworked itself from its 'Princess Leia' style back to its massive ponytail and one-eye-blinding bangs, and she gave Callista the biggest smile that she was psychologically capable of. "Thanks a lot. I owe you big time for this," she said as she let her go.

...

Nearly everyone facefaulted, shaking the premises. Even more telling was Callista's reaction: Circe's statement freaked her out far more than any anger did, unbalancing the positivity she'd been radiating and reverting her back to normal. The fur on her ears, ruff, and tail stood on end as she struggled to get her thoughts organized, and she hurriedly slammed her sunglasses back over her eyes. "...Okay. First, what? Second, in blazes?!"

An eyebrow raised. "You seriously thought that I wanted to go through with that marriage, correct?" Circe settled back into the chair that she'd previously been pinned to, wiping her brow with a stray napkin. "Let's start with you. Why did you want to disrupt the ceremony that badly?"

Callista's feline features melted back into her human form, the better to keep from destroying something after losing her mind. She almost fell over as her transformation's energy drain hit her hard, but she puppeteered her limbs and forced herself to stay upright. "Because I know that guy. Everything I'd heard and seen told me that he doesn't have a single redeeming trait at all, and that was before I met him in person! How he's managed to live in Muffinville this long without getting transformed is beyond me!"

Circe nodded. "I ascertained that much when I met him. He would've taken my manor, my staff in its entirety, all the property I've owned... he would've taken me. I would've lost all control. But... at that point I didn't mind too much, at least not outwardly. That love potion he'd stolen from my shop was incredibly potent."

Callista facepalmed. "A love potion," she uttered weakly. "Because of course. It always has to be the thing that causes people the most trouble. So glad I've never been hit with one of those."

"Trouble is synonymous with them, I'll give you that." Circe's smile was more triumphant than happy this time. "But the ones I produce have one important weakness: raw anger and hatred. At the back of my mind I knew that what was transpiring wasn't right, but I wasn't able to force myself to care. I was just too... giddy," she explained, spitting out the word as if it were profanity. "I wanted so badly to entrust my life to someone like him, ignoring his sociopathic tendencies entirely. The thrill of a long-lasting marriage, of being with someone who genuinely cares..."

"I wouldn't know how that feels," Callista commented almost gleefully. "Lifelong bachelorette, and I'm proud of it." She grabbed a danish out of her shopping bag, tore open the wrapping, and proceeded to devour it. "Singleness forever!"

Circe gave her a weird look before continuing. "Anyway, as I said, even then I still had that inkling that it wasn't right. So when Doris was putting together the invites, I hinted to her that you and the others might want to attend. I was banking on the fact that you'd be incensed enough at what was happening that you would want to disrupt the ceremony in your own way. In turn, I would've been enraged enough at the best day of my life being ruined that it would nullify the potion's effects and snap me back to my senses." She stared off the side, the slightest bit disgruntled. "Hoping for the best was all I could do."

Aldonza slammed a hand against one of the surviving tables a few times, bent over almost double. Before anyone could ask if something was wrong, she threw back her head and howled with laughter. "Oh-ho-ho-ho, that was glorious!"

Missy was on her knees and giggling, relying on her staff to keep herself from collapsing entirely. Zapana was no better, though her own laughter exited her teeth as a wheezing hiss a la Muttley. Claire and Viridi didn't laugh, but the broad smiles they sported told their story easily enough.

Ellen didn't look up from the card game she'd started in the wreckage with a few Brotherhood plushies. She and Elk were among the few who had escaped Circe's aura unaffected. "...Never had any doubts."

Callista shook her head, but even she was trying to keep from grinning like a fool. "Only you, Circe. Only you would think of using anger as a failsafe against love. Usually it's the other way around."

"Time and personal experience have taught me to always have a failsafe in my products for this sort of situation. Ostensibly it was to be used in case the potion's recipient wasn't happy with her new relationship, but that's just a bonus. Magic has been used against me as often as I use it in return, so it was only a matter of time before I got wise to it all." Circe rolled her eyes. "You'd think those people would have learned by now."

"Heh... how'd he even get close enough to you to use the potion in the first place, tangerine?" Missy questioned, recovering from her giggling fit. "Knowing you, he should've failed right off the bat."

Circe frowned at the insult, but decided to ignore it. She'd heard worse from Zapana a decade past, and reacting to Missy would've just encouraged her. "I was behind the counter that day reading a news article. I heard someone come in, but I was almost finished reading, so I decided to just wrap that up before seeing who it was. I heard Cynth squeal a warning, felt something electrical hit my brain, heard a voice saying something..." She ran through a quick mental exercise that her sword instructor taught her, and her frown deepened. Those closest to her shied away from her at that expression. "And then I told him that if he wanted to test any of my products on me for free, that was perfectly fine. When Cynth started acting up, I told her in no uncertain terms to stay quiet and not say a word about it to anyone."

"Hapan Gun of Command."

Circe turned to Callista. "Hm? You recognize what he did?"

"Sure do," Callista confirmed, the words transitioning into a brief growl. "The Gun of Command hits the target with an electromagnetic field that disrupts the brain and makes it so whoever's shot can't tell the difference between his own thoughts and those of the wielder. For a limited time, the target will follow any simple commands given. At a guess, Marc used it to ensure that you would drink your own potion and keep Cynth from blabbing to your staff, Doris finding out anyway notwithstanding."

"That little grease stain!" the psychotic maid who'd attacked Callista earlier blurted out, looking as if she were in the midst of a conniption. "Where is he? Where?!"

"Drew, calm down!" Madison grabbed her arm before she could run off, though that didn't keep her from struggling. The fish-woman dug in her heels to keep from being dragged away. "Control yourself!"

Most of the guests were muttering to each other. Even those of Marc's diehards didn't look thrilled at what they'd learned, and the maids were just plain mad. Circe ignored them all, instead favoring Callista with a raised eyebrow. "And you know all of that because...?"

"...I may have been hit with that gun once in the past," Callista admitted, blushing with her eyes towards the floor. "Not one of my prouder moments."

"Even without that, we've delved rather heavily into 'Star Wars'-related stuff the past 25 years," Aldonza pointed out, ignoring Mini-Lina as the figurine flew down to settle in one of her jacket's pockets. "It would be strange if she didn't know that."

"Especially since one of those guns eventually led to Leia marrying Han in the 'Legends' timeline," Viridi griped, sipping from a cup of fruit punch (made entirely with natural ingredients). "Seriously, writers?"

Circe was quiet for a minute as she pondered what she'd been told, during which time the ruined reception hall fell into an uncomfortable silence. "I ought to be a lot more upset about this... but between all of you staging an intervention and Ambush Cat arguably being worse as long as I've known him, I'm finding it difficult to be fully furious about it. Right now I just want to..." She perked up as she realized that one member of Callista's faction was inexplicably absent. "Say... where did Ambush go, anyway?"

"...Mom said that she had to drop off Mr. Maddhouse at St. Dogbert's Hospital. Something about 'cleansing the demons of stupidity', in her words," Ellen spoke up, laying a four-of-a-kind down and forcing her opposition to fold.

"Wait. St. Dogbert? He didn't seem too hurt from what I saw," Claire pointed out.

"..." Ellen held up the back of her hand. Faintly visible there was a light scratch that hadn't been there before the plan had been set in motion. It hadn't been deep enough to draw blood, but the fact that it was there to start with spoke volumes. There was a chorus of "oohs" from those present.

"And just so we're clear, I'm not responsible? Maddhouse did that?" Circe asked, not giving in to the mild dread that permeated the atmosphere.

"...My dislike of him notwithstanding, he was a decent fighter. It got past my armor, even," Ellen confirmed. "...I think the first thing Mom did when she discovered it was to---"

"Too much information!" everyone in earshot aside from her siblings roared, blasting Ellen's hair straight back and sending her Alice band flying.

Ellen offered them an expression that wasn't quite quizzical even as Eebon retrieved the accessory for her. "...I didn't even say what she did."

Viridi frowned, her tone sour. "Doesn't matter. Whatever it is Ambush did to him, it will be TMI on pure principle. We're not talking about it."

"Ditto that," Missy agreed without hesitation. "And coming from someone with nerves of diamond, that should tell you something."

...

"...Bah, that's something to think about another time. Preferably never." Circe stood up and cleared her throat. "Claire? Madison? The rest of you? Grab your things and let's go home. We're 'repossessing' Maddhouse's limousine, assuming Viridi and Missy didn't total it. Those of you here that work for me? You too. Pack it up."

Surprisingly, while the bridal party was eager to leave, the invited guests were not. "Aw, the fun's over already?" one of them whined. "I was hoping for more music, and we never got to dance (much). Marc and the crab ruined everything."

"This was an unexpected blast," added one of Marc's former employees. "I wouldn't mind doing this some more."

"Amen to that!" hollered the Machamp-lady Callista had fought earlier, having sufficiently recovered in the interim. "More food, more drinks, more fun!"

"Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty!" the guests chanted together, fists raised. The remainder of Circe's entourage looked at each other, shrugged, and joined in.

Aldonza and Zapana were both unsure about the whole thing. "Guys, most of the building's nothing but wreckage, the dance floor's a mess, and it's a miracle the ceiling hasn't entirely collapsed yet," the latter pointed out, quelling the chanting. "Not even I encourage partying in these conditions. That would just be moronic."

The psychotic maid Drew seemed thoughtful for a few seconds before chuckling. "Did you forget who you're talking to, Zaps? We're Circe's maids. When there's a mess..." She reached behind her, pulling out a mop and bucket as big as she was already filled with soapy water and slamming them to the ground next to her. "...we clean it up."

"Yeah baby, you know it!" her fellow maids hollered as one, pulling out cleaning implements where previously there'd been none, including a battery-powered vacuum cleaner as wide as one of the guest tables. Callista's team of saboteurs (aside from Claire) did a collective double-take, while Circe settled for raising an eyebrow.

"Snow aside, the weather's reasonable. No reason why we can't fix up the area enough to finish the party," added the Machamp-lady, flexing her arms. "Someone rent some dumpsters, and I'll clear some wreckage away!"

"That store over there should have a landline phone or two they can give us access to," another of Marc's entourage suggested, pointing at the building Mini-Lina was located at earlier. The exterior was damaged due to the crab mech's destruction, but it was still in a better state than the rest of the buildings on the block... and more to the point, the wires leading to it were untouched. "We can use them to get things organized."

"You heard the man," Missy ordered her plushies, her manic smile returned. "Dumpsters, card tables and chairs, on the double! And get some portable kitchenettes while you're at it! The fox can't cook without ovens!"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" the plushie force confirmed, deliberately ignoring Missy's refusal to contact her party-loving secretary, and charged off to get things done.

"Phosphora? Grocery run," Viridi declared as she got in contact with her chief lieutenant. "Get them to my current location immediately. Spare no expense. Recruit the turncoat and that little friend of yours if you must!"

-"Gotcha!"-

Zapana held up her hands placatingly, laughing. "Alright, everyone, alright. You win. I'll get the rest of the generators," she said as she hustled off.

"Eh-heh-heh-heh... have I ever said how much I love this place?" Aldonza sniggered, her smile filled with teeth. And since she was part bat-eared fox, that was a lot of them.

"Only once a month on average," Mini-Lina said dryly, reclining in her pocket so that only her head and one arm were still visible. "And shouldn't you be getting something to support that ceiling before it falls?"

"Ooh, right. Thanks for telling me," Aldonza murmured, taking her communicator and opening a channel to the Infinite Defense's task force up in orbit. "Ready For Freddy, this is Admiral Karate. I need you to send an engineering/construction team down here ten minutes ago..."

Mini-Lina blinked at the temporary pillars and newly repaired walls that had suddenly appeared in key areas of the hall, her mind swimming with new information as the timeline was altered. "Almost a decade of living with you freaks, and I'll still never get used to the stuff you do."

"And yet you like us anyway," Aldonza said as she put her communicator away.

"Hey, I never said it was a bad thing."

...

Circe surveyed the hall and those involved in getting it back up to speed. "Claire?" she called. "Are you going to stay and help, or do you want to leave?"

"Well..." Claire thought about it momentarily before sagging. "As fun as it would be to join everyone... I think I'd actually like to go home and rest. Permission to skip tonight's work shift? It's been a stressful day."

"Permission granted," Circe agreed with a nod. "And just so you know... I understand completely why you sided with them, and that you never really betrayed me. I won't hold it against you." She hesitated for a half second before adopting her usual stern visage. "That's as close as you'll get to an apology from me for making you worry, so don't push it."

"You don't have to say anything," Claire answered as she got up to join her. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Before you two go, I'd like to speak to Claire for a moment," Callista interrupted, fishing around in her purse for something. The stone-faced guest who'd asked for an autograph earlier was walking away from her, pleased with himself and the signed poster he was carrying.

Circe nodded. "Don't take too long. I'd prefer to return home by sundown if possible. I have free time in my schedule now, and I want to make the most of it."

Claire agreeably approached Callista. "You need something of me, Miss Metallium?"

Callista winced at the name, but didn't let it color her thoughts. She produced a wad of cash from her purse and handed it over to Claire. "Here you go."

Claire thumbed through the bills, eyes widening as she did the mental math. "Fifty...no, sixty grand?!" She regarded Callista with shock, as did those who didn't know the shopaholic that well. "Wha... what even is all this for?"

"Your account at the Manor, of course."

"But... why?!"

"You called me your mother earlier," Callista reminded her, making her breath catch in her throat. "And thinking about it, you're right. For all that our mindsets are different, you still have most of my traits... some active, some suppressed. I might have been you for a time, but that was solely due to events I couldn't control; you were specifically derived from me, not the other way around. You have my genes and you were created from me, so for all intents and purposes you are my child." She stared down at the floor guiltily. "And me being me, I never paid attention to that. I was always focused on just living my own life. We knew each other, but we didn't really know each other, if you get what I'm trying to say."

It didn't take much for the maid to put two and two together. "So... this means...!"

"That right there is your collective allowance from the time of your creation up until now. You already have a job and a place to live, so I can't do anything to help with that, but I can at least offer you some reimbursement." Callista smiled, the expression looking the slightest bit quirky. "Don't spend it all in one place, alright?"

Claire was starting to tear up by this point. She started to say something, but paused and addressed Circe instead. "Permission to break decorum, my lady?"

Circe waved her off. "As long as you're targeting her, not me, go ahead."

And just like that, everything that made Claire the picture of dignity and elegance disappeared into thin air. "MOMMY!" she squealed joyfully, pulling Callista into a hug. To her credit, the shopaholic didn't try to break away, instead patting Claire's shoulder awkwardly and looking like she wanted to be anyplace but there. Some of the guests applauded, making them blush as they remembered that others were still present, but neither of them let go just yet.

...

"Gag me with a spoon. I don't think that cake slice I stole is going to stay down---GHFF-CHOO?!" Missy tried to say, but was interrupted by a sudden sneeze.

"They're having a moment," Aldonza warned as she lowered her tail from Missy's nose. "Don't ruin it."

...

Next to Circe, Madison blinked as she noticed an unfamiliar detail. "I knew she could make her hair turn black when she was angry, but in the years I've worked with her I've never seen her with white hair," she commented. "Is that something we should worry about, or...?"

Circe tapped her chin in thought. "I doubt it's anything serious, not if it's what I believe it is. It doesn't seem like it will be impacting her work any---"

"GROUP HUG!"

In an eyeblink, Zapana had dashed forward and scooped both mother and child off the ground in a massive hug, beaming happily.

"...On second thought," Circe amended as she watched them struggle in Zapana's hold, an ominous creaking heard all the while, "it probably wouldn't hurt to have her scanned for bone fractures later."

...

"Before you say anything, Ellen," Viridi said softly, ignoring a damaged ceiling tile that finally fell to the ground close by, "yes. I am aware that moments like these are part of nature too."

"...Which part? The familial recognition or the danger of broken ribs?"

"Both."

The two of them watched as Zapana let go of Callista and Claire. The wolf caninoid was grinning unashamedly as her two victims proceeded to chew her out. "...So, I'm assuming there's no chance of you giving your family any hugs in the near future?" Ellen finally asked, a twinge of what could possibly be humor in her voice.

Viridi shook her head, expression completely beatific. "Go soak your head, 'sister'."

"...Taking that as a maybe."

...

Zapana walked away, laughing as she went to set up the generators she'd brought in. Claire gave herself a once-over to make sure everything was still in place before settling down. She turned to Circe, a new energy in her eyes. "On second thought, I think I'll stay for the party," she said eagerly. "Want me to bring you anything, my lady?"

Oh, for... alright, fine. Why not? I might as well salvage something from this messed-up afternoon, and I'm not going to do that back at the Manor. "Some beef stroganoff, once Aldonza has it ready," Circe requested. "With two sides, and I don't care what you choose. I'll get my own drink."

As Claire acknowledged the order and walked away to assist with the cleanup, something shuffled close by. Circe 'hmmed' to herself as she saw Callista walk away from the proceedings, stumbling not from any injury but from exhaustion. "Leaving so soon?"

"Kaoru's insisting, so yeah," Callista managed to say as she tapped her communicator, not facing her. "I got enough energy back from the buffet that I'm not going to collapse, but my transformation wiped me out and I need somewhere quiet to think. I'm gonna jump back to the Spamville-verse and hit one of the apartments there... most of 'em have better security than the ones I have here. If you wanna call me, just leave a message. I'm probably gonna be too tired to answer the phone."

"I'm not surprised. You've had just as rough a go of it as I did."

"Hn," Callista grunted as a portal opened next to her. "Sorry to bail and run. I'll return any messages tomorrow." She stepped on through, and the gateway closed behind her.

Circe stayed silent for several seconds as a breeze blew through the rooms. "Callista," she mouthed, her voice so quiet that even Zapana would've needed to concentrate to hear it over the music, "you have nothing to apologize for."

With that she turned away with the intent of finding Ellen. As long as she was going to be here until everyone was done partying, she figured she might as well get caught up on everything that had happened up until the wedding.

/-/-/-/-/-/

TO BE CONCLUDED...

/-/-/-/-/
/-/-/-/-/

EDITED 9-2-2022: The song connected to Mini-Lina's Ragna Blade usage is no longer on YouTube, so I had to use its predecessor.
Last edited by AmbushCat on Fri Sep 02, 2022 10:56 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Fri Oct 09, 2020 3:41 pm

Alright, I'm at the point where Ookalf's slated to make his appearance. I was hoping to have part of the epilogue be a conversation between him and Circe at the Manor regarding in-story events. I guess for now the primary questions I have are: what are their respective opinions of each other, and given their relationship can they be counted on to have a civil discussion?
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby Ookalf » Sun Oct 11, 2020 12:26 am

First off, nice finale! Things appear to be wrapping up nicely.

As for your question, Ookalf see each other something like siblings, and though they're not exactly friends who hang out all the time, their relationship is fairly amicable. Even though Circe historically presents herself like a villain, Ookalf doesn't really think she's all that bad. He'd probably regret not being able to help her this time, and would be glad things worked out. Circe, for her part, appreciates Ookalf's willingness to to leave her alone and let her do her own thing most of the time, and generally gives him space as well. If one of them had something important to say to the other, I think they would hear it out.

...Does that help? I'm realizing I've never really put this into words before, so I'm not sure how well it'll come across...
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby AmbushCat » Sun Oct 11, 2020 10:32 pm

...Huh. I guess Zapana's comment concerning their relationship back in Ch. 1 was more on the mark than I thought. :lol:

Anyway I understood what you were trying to say, and I appreciate you clearing that up for me. :) And from what I understand from looking at his profile and past threads, Ookalf's basically a "nice guy" sort of person?
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Re: [Writing] Taking Out the Trash

Postby Ookalf » Mon Oct 12, 2020 5:08 pm

Yeah, you could pretty much say that. Some might call it a bit generic, but eh...
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