The sun shines brightly, the clouds pass swiftly, and a gentle breeze caresses whoever is brave enough to set foot outside during a time of turmoil and riots. Really, it’s the perfect weather for a revolution!
Not that the revolutionaries care much for the weather, I fear. It really is nice outside, though! To a degree, I almost feel bad for staying indoors on such a beautiful day.
But, alas. It just so happens that the only outdoor spot available to me at the moment is a windy rooftop of a high-rise castle. Which is why, for now, I prefer to stay inside.
How come that during a time of uprising and revolts, all I can think of is the weather, some might wonder. Well, it just so happens that this time around, I am as involved in this mess as any other member of high society, which is from within the safety of these castle walls. These, by the way, provide a wonderful view of the bloodshed below. I have to bow to the architects of this place. It really does do wonders to one’s god complex to gaze down at the mortals as they roll around in the mud. No wonder nobles are always so vain! Ah, they don't all live on higher ground, do they? Maybe it's something in the tea? I sniff at my cup suspiciously.
As I do so, a beautiful dark-haired lady approaches my table. Without even the remotest exchange of pleasantries, she plumps into the chair opposite mine. How very improper! It makes me smile. The maids, unperturbed by the lady’s behaviour, don’t miss a beat in their excellent exhibition of servitude and prepare a cup of rose-coloured Darjeeling, the current hip item (there’s definitely something unholy in the tea), and as quickly and quietly as a mouse, they disappear into the blind spots of the ballroom, today’s venture.
With the look of a silently suffering martyr, Kitty stretches her right hand across the table while gesturing in a manner reminiscent of a bank robber demanding money.
“I don’t owe you any money!” I reply indignantly, relaxing back into the chair.
“Don’t play dumb”, Kitty rolls her eyes irritably. “We both know you would never show up to an event like this without alcohol.”
“Now, now, young lady, you shouldn’t be talking about the devil’s beverage during day time lest you want to call him along with it”.
“I do. Now, hand it over, Neve.”
That girl! She's never good for any chest when she's sober. But wait, wouldn't that mean intoxicating her is not only a good thing but also morally acceptable?
I mean, it’s more fun, after all!
Convinced, I fumble with the sash of the annoyingly pompous dress until I find the hip flask and hand it over. Kitty immediately snatches it out of my hand and dumps a good amount into her tea. She silently passes it back to me, and, as greedy human nature demands, I pour the remains of my hip flask into the teacup in front of me. Having served its purpose, I throw the flask behind my back without looking. I do know how this is going to end anyways. And hark! No sound. These maids really are something else!
I would have probably started a bloodbath of my own by now had I to serve such ungrateful vermin. I'm not talking about me, of course. I'm not a vermin. I'm just pretentious.
It’s more fun, after all.
“You missed the whole meeting,” I pout cutely. Obviously, cutely is the only way to describe it.
“Aha.”
"The king in his invisible clothes was in a rage, a rage, I tell you! Those bloody ungrateful gratins (sounds yummy)! He really got me rooting for him! Kind of reminded me of those good old politicians from back home. You remember them?"
“Aha?”
“Though I can’t remember what he said.”
“Then it couldn’t have been important.”
A wise remark, indeed!
Sudden applause and a tumultuous rain of compliments turn the banquet hall into a hell of superficiality. But wait, that's not quite right. Looks are everything, after all, and gosh, is that lady pretty.
“She suddenly appeared, trailing after her, the melodic sent of childhood summer days and long-forgotten love. Like a flower in bloom, swaying in the wind, dancing petals drifting in a desert. Her beauty far surpassed those around her, lifting her up upon a throne built from ideals and beliefs that beauty is justice. Her beauty, a feast for the eyes, her sweetness, a feast for the heart, oh how I longed to see you again, my beloved.” Thus I shamelessly proclaim my love with enough melodrama to make a Shakespearian actress pale in comparison.
"Shut up, or I'm gonna rip out your hair accessory. Do you wanna know how much that hurts, huh? It really, really hurts. It took them four hours to get my hair right. Four hours?! Can you believe that? Anyway, that just now didn't even sound like a compliment. If you're trying to mock me, at least put in some effort." First, spitting in outrage, then whiningly and lastly, demandingly, this beautiful young lady comes to a halt at our table to then pull a chair close and plumb down like a sack of potatoes.
まったくもう、あの二人はマナーっていうやつを知らないのかい?
"You're as uncouth as always", I pout. "I assume that was your doing?" I ask Kitty.
“You have to admit, it really suits him. Kind of sad that he makes a better girl than us, but you cannot win against natural beauty," says the most beautiful woman I know. Really now, a raven-haired maiden with a mocha complexion, large brown eyes glistening red in the sunlight and a body line to kill for, who did you say had a child? No, wait, that’s not even the point. Not that Kitty’s remark of inferiority and jealousy sounded very serious. After all, Kitty’s head isn’t filled with straw like the rest of this high-class ensemble. It’s filled with conceit.
Now that the reason for the tumult has taken their place, the rest of the banquet guests also seems to calm down. But for serious, Fereshteh is a real beauty. Too bad, it’s got nothing to do with my genes. But my raising him has definitely played a part, obviously. I mean, he did turn out quite right and doesn’t seem to care all too much about genders. What aggravates him the most is most likely our prodding him, which, too sad for him, we will very much continue to do. Just to be clear, dressing in women’s clothes was not Fereshteh’s hobby, but having him dressed or dressing him in women’s clothes was Kitty’s. And she would use any chance she could get to do so. I suspect she prefers large events like this to showcase her artisan skills. Now I know why she showed up that late. Honestly, while waiting for either of them to show up, I had gotten really bored, already considering the most heinous ways to crash the party.
I put my hand into one of my dress’s pockets and produce a piece offering.
“Let’s keep those nasty thoughts behind us. How about a relaxing cup of tea?”
“You’re the only one with nasty thoughts. And yours ain’t gonna go away. They’re deeply rooted in your rotten personality!” Fereshteh exclaims.
おっしゃる通り.
“And don’t just offer me alcohol at tea time like it’s the most natural thing to do!” he adds.
"You had another one", Kitty remarks in surprise and rather unceremoniously urges me to fill up her teacup again. That’s my girl. Please don’t misunderstand me: I am neither planning on justifying nor beautifying the consumption of any kind of drugs. I just don't care. That's all. And in my utter apathy, there is nothing more satisfying than the consumption of drugs. Now dear reader, depending on whether we have met before or not, you might already know this, but please let me remind you that there is absolutely no good reason to ever believe any narrator, no matter how honest they sound, especially if they’re human. Seriously, you just can’t trust humans. It’s in their nature to lie. And in my case, it would be wise to remember that I am, first and foremost, a liar.
"Now that we have all settled down", Fereshteh has been served his tea and judging from the look on his face, the taste is quite to his liking, " let us commence operation tea time", I pompously pronounce our evening activity for the day.
“Huh? What’s this about? Did we make any plans?”
This naive fool! You don’t need to make plans to have them! Others can make them for you (mainly me)!
“Of course not, I just came up with it on the spot” I grin happily, ever so happily. Fereshteh slightly flinches at this; without a doubt, he’s taking a trip down memory lane.
“So, what exactly do you propose we do?” Kiddy asks, herself smiling a most joyous smile. Indeed, things would become fun very soon.
♪
I thrive in chaos and destruction, especially when I’m the cause and benefactor.
With such thoughts, I lean against the buffet table and slurp my cocktail, served a la revolution. I know, I know. I could have just waited until the usurpers actually made their way here. Still, I'm not known for my patience for a reason, the reason simply being that I am not a patient person. Patience and I get along as well as Earth and Venus. We might orbit around the same sun, we might be aware of each other's existence, and during certain seasons, we are even quite visible in each other's night view. However, だがしかし, we are by no means in a gravitational relationship. As a rule, we do not depend on nor interact with each other. After all, that would lead to a natural catastrophe of planetary consequences, literally. Though naturally, all objects are in a gravitational relationship. But that’s a topic for another time.
For now, the topic at hand is that I cannot live without causing mayhem.
As common knowledge dictates: disturbing the status quo of an aristocratic society is as easy as child’s play, for it is just that in so many senses. All you need to do is rip the masks off everyone’s faces. All that’s left to do is sit back, relax and watch as the ball flattens everything in its course until everyone is equal, equally disgusting human, but that’s more of a personal opinion. Though obviously, my opinion is always the right one.
“Really? Was that really necessary?” Fereshteh nags panicky; it’s one of his special skills. He really should have levelled up more useful skills but to each their own. He has been complaining like this for what felt like an eternity while hiding behind the buffet table. You would think he’d ease up by now, but all he managed to do was to move from a foetal position into a sitting one, still hugging his knees.
I kind of doubt he’s really that stressed out, I muse as I step aside to avoid getting decapitated by silverware. Not easy to clean the blood off of these.
"At least it's an improvement," Kiddy comments, quite pleased with the current situation. Naturally, she, too, holds a cocktail glass in hand. And a machine gun in the other. I guess she's into anachronism, isn't she? She's always been the girls with guns type. It just fits her. On second thought, a katana would also suit her damn well. Does she know how to wield one?
Still, completely unnecessary, of course. There’s no way anything could ever go wrong when I am the originator of a plan. Did I just trigger a flag? Whoops. Let’s just hope it wasn’t a death flag.
“Who’s pretty girl’s love flag could I’ve just triggered?”
"No idea what you're thinking, but you're probably wrong. " Kiddy says, sidestepping even more tableware. Is that really the only thing they could think of throwing around?
“What the hell are you thinking of at a time like this?" Fereshteh screams, outraged, bobbing his head up and down, dodging another garrison of incoming tableware that should soon be depleted.
Now, now. I know you’re all waiting for the point at which I start retelling the events that have led to the current food fight, which is, by the way, an absolute no-go. As God has dictated: ‘Thou shall not waste food!' Or maybe that was me? Well, it's all the same, isn't it? Where were we? I usually don’t spend much time considering my past actions, not to say that I don't care for the past. The past is what made me, and I just so happen to like myself a lot! But enough of that. Before even the last of our readers leave us, let’s turn time back for a bit.
♪
“I propose we start a détente of our own!”
“They’ve started a revolution, not a détente, sis.”
“Ah, what a trifling difference. You shouldn't be so small-minded, my little brother!”
“It’s not trifling! That’s like comparing the French revolution to the cold War détente!”
“Indeed! And we shall combine it both and make it even better!”
“You never spout anything but nonsense!”
“No one ever does.”
“Okay, you nerds, we get it. Let’s get started already!”
“Now, don’t be hasty, young one. Like a good cup of tea, you have to take care in preparing the leaves and steam them for just the right amount of time for a delicious revolution.“
“So it is a revolution, after all!”
“Yes, but a revolution al’détente!”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
♪
“The plan is quite simple."
"I like that."
“All we have to do is use the already tense atmosphere to our benefit.”
"And how do we do that?"
“Think about it, how to best stir a bee’s nest? Puh, the bear has told us! By stealing the honey!”
“Aha.”
“I’ve got this feeling that’s not what the author was trying ta tell us...”
“Tch, tch, Fereshteh, my boy. It’s not about what a story is trying to tell us. It’s about what we take from it!”
“Aha. You’ve got any more booze up your sleeves, Neve?”
“Is it neve or booze that you want, Kitty cat?” I really don’t like it if the señora calls me that.
“Do you have any?”
“Hey, this story is supposed to be PG-13!”
“Not with you in it.”
“Stop giving us the evil eye, Kitty cat. I know, I know. We've got to move on with the story."
“That’s not it. I’d be fine with the alcohol.“
“So, as to not make you any angrier, I’ll now present you with the details.”
"No, seriously, the alcohol."
“Since both of you’ve been absent from the war council“
“Wait, are they planning on going to war?”
"Don't interrupt me, Fereshteh. We don't want Kitty to get peevish. And no, that was obviously a manner of speech.”
“I really just want some alcohol right now."
“What’s supposed to be obvious about that?”
“Anyways, during the council meeting earlier, some of the king’s retainers had up and left. And even amongst those that remained, our current companions in this room, there has been a good deal of friction.“
“You’re saying they’re sick of dealing with their bloated king?”
“I told you, it’d be a détente. You could actually start trusting your big sis a bit more! Well, anyways. The point is, we’re going to use the queen of hearts catchphrase against the ruling class themselves!”
“So we’re gonna present the king’s head as a peace offering?”
“Oh, no. We are going to do nothing of that sort. We’re just going to poke at the hornet’s nest.”
“Not the bees?”
“Alcohol”
“Hornets, bees, alcohol, whatever you want to call it. The plan is to push those at the edge of patience over it by telling them about some lovely little things I've heard through the grapevine
."
"Not much longer”
“Let’s not go down that road. I’ve heard having to deal with copyright infringement never ends well. We’ll be tweeting like little birds under the guise of chitchat, the perfect spice for any tea party and space revolution!” I say as I stand up and usher my two companions to do the same. “Let’s mingle among the folk!”
“What makes this a space revolution?”
“What about the alcohol?”
“Because it’s a revolution taking place in space!”
“Wouldn’t that make every revolution a space revolution?”
“Exactly!”
“Hey, the alcohol!”.
♪
“And that’s how we got to the present!”
“Are you mixing reality and fiction again? I really thought for a second you’d leave me hanging dry.”
“I’m just talking to the readers. And don’t worry, my dear Kitty, I would never let you dry up like a fish. You are to drown with me for all eternity!”
“Aha?”
“Wait, sis, what do you mean ‘readers’? Weren’t we aiming for a third season? Primetime TV?”
“Don’t worry! My ambitions haven’t changed. I just figured something expansion into media would do us good! How about it? We could produce a musical and call it 'Kitty Cats'. I’m sure one or two misguided souls would find their way inside the theatre!”
“I refuse. My name is not Kitty cat, by the way.”
“No, it’s Katsura!”
“Nerd”
“Good one! But seriously, what are we gonna do now?”
“Do you even need to ask? We’ll obviously use the commotion to open the gates and let the rabble stream in!”
“Obviously...”
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with and get off this planet already!”
“Ohhhh, when things finally start to get interesting?! But I guess you’re right. They do say it’s best to leave while things are looking up or something, don't they?"
“Does that mean I can finally get out of this stupid dress?! I’m so sick of this suffocating excuse for clothing!”
“We all are, Fereshteh, we all are.” And at that, we head outside, leaving our sheep’s clothing behind in that stone prison.
Epilogue 1
There is a loud explosion, and with a booming sound, the former castle gates collapse under the weight of the falling stone around it. Could there've been a more peaceful solution that hadn't involved blowing half the place to bits? Oh yes, of course! But let's be honest, who wouldn't opt for the one with an explosion? I know you all love a good explosion!
"COULDN'T YOU HAVE OPTED FOR A MORE PEACEFUL SOLUTION LIKE, I DON'T KNOW, JUST OPENING THE FUCKING DOOR?"
Okay, apparently, Miss prissy here is of a different opinion. But it's mine that matters.
"Whatever, let's get out of this place," Kiddy says indifferently as she puffs out smoke. This girl really’s got guts. We were, or rather, still are, standing right next to a shitload of gunpowder. But then again, she's suicidal, so what does she got to lose? Her life? Haha, good one!
“No, seriously, please don’t die!” I cling to her, screaming.
"Huh?" she doesn't even look all that surprised at my sudden course of action.
“”ARE WE GOING NOW OR NOT?”
"Geez, stop screaming. You're hurting my eardrums."
"They look fine to me," I say, still clinging to her.
“Huh?”
“I REALLY THINK WE SHOULD HIGH-TAIL IT!”
“I said, stop screaming.”
“I don’t think he can hear you.”
“What?”
“WHAT?”
Hark! Listen closely, good girls and boys (and any those not conforming to either); there are certain places you do not want to stand at during an explosion unless you want to end up like that. Naturally, unless you're immortal, you really shouldn't be going places with explosions, anyways. And those highly traumatised or feeling uncomfortable for any reason with this depiction of violence, please do remember we do condone unjust violence, which violence does happen to be in general. Unjust, I mean. But we really are just that far gone, so humour us for a little bit.
“What are you spacing out for?”
“I’m currently busy addressing the readers.”
“Were you hit by some shrapnel?”
“I’m as fit as a fiddle, hey-diddle-diddle.”
"Right, you've always been like this. Wrong in your head."
“While I won’t deny it, that’s quite mean.”
During our little exchange, time naturally hasn't stood still. The rioters have been busy streaming into the castle, clashing with a wave of castle guards headed in their opposite direction. I understand that keeping your job and adhering to work rules is important, but really? Wouldn't the natural move be to switch sides at this point? In doubt, always choose the side of the common people; they usually are more in the right than the select few living off of their hard work. What could possibly be rewarding enough to kill your own sisters and brothers?
“I THINK WE SHOULD RUN NOW BEFORE THE GUARDS FIND OUT WE WERE INVOLVED IN THIS.”
Could you be any more beta, I mean clichéd? You multilingual storytellers should really be careful out there about those false friends you never even knew existed.
Some guards now obviously start heading in our direction.
“Thanks, genius! You know what they say: Show, don’t tell. Or was it tell, don’t show? Now I’m confused.”
"I think it was: Let's get moving already. What are we standing here for, anyway?"
“For the lolls”
“PLEASE LIKE AND SUBSCRIBE.”
“If we die because of you two, drinks are on you for the rest of the month.”
“Huh? Why me? He’s clearly the one at fault!”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
As we continue to have our little banter, for which you should really choose your time and place, most of the guards have been pushed back by the second wave of rioters, leaving only a handful still determined to look competent by going after us. I truly do pity them. You've got to be really careful when it comes to job descriptions these days. Don't choose a place likely to turn into a warzone. Okay, that wouldn't leave much left. Don't choose a workplace whose moral standards you cannot subscribe to and also kind of wants you to die for it. No job is delicious enough to die for. That's corporate brainwashing.
“Neve, we really should get going.”
“I get it, I get. Don’t tuck at me with that iron grip of yours! My iron lady," I add sweetly as I let myself get dragged away.
“Oh, just shut up!”
We begin to head back inside after our job well done. As commonly found in every castle, we make for the secret exit. And I, as a castle entrepreneur, of course, know what I'm talking about.
"SO, HOW ARE YOU PLANNING ON GETTING OUT OF THIS MESS?"
“Starting by ripping out your tongue.”
"Hey, hey, this ain’t fiction. It needs time to fully recover your hearing.”
“I so don’t want to hear that from you.”
"Again, with the evil eye."
“Well, anyways. We’re obviously headed for the secret pathway out of this death trap!”
“Was there such a thing?”
"Don't sound so astonished, my love. Everyone knows a proper castle needs a secret exit."
“So, this is just your imagination speaking?”
“Oh, c’mon now, don’t give up on life that easily.”
"It's not life. It's you I'm giving up on," Kiddy sighs, exasperated.
"Right, you've already given up on life long ago."
“And on you, too.”
"Oh, don't be like this. You know you can always count on me!" I pout cutely, obviously cutely, as we head through the corridors while all around us, hell has broken loose: Servants and aristocrats alike are rushing past us in every direction. Okay, that's a bad sign, true. And both sides don't seem to care much for décor anymore as they scratch, push and pull as they see fit. Still, someone should know of a secret exit.
“But how do we find the king amongst this entire rabble?”
“WASN’T HE NAKED?”
Has the gunpowder also gotten to your head?
“Aren’t these, like, nobles and not rabble?”
Huh? What do you care all of a sudden?
“I’m sure we’ll find him wherever it’s the loudest. Isn’t that a trademark for leaders?”
“Wouldn’t he usually be hiding from the rioters?”
“No, he’d obviously be heading for the secret pathway!”
“And what if he’s already gone?”
At this, I catch hold of the next best servant I see. But, unfortunately, it's to no avail. She runs away screaming, not even giving me a second glance. Is my countenance really that scary?
After several more attempts at fishing, I finally lend a catch, meaning a servant stops long enough to exchange words with us.
“Hey, you! Where is the king?” I say harshly. I’m really good at playing the evil part.
“Hiiiii, he’s barricaded himself in his chambers!”
Uu, that’s a bad sign.
“Then, where is the secret path that leads to the outside? Surely there is one?”
“Hiiiiiiiiiiii, no! There’s no such thing!”
Well, dear reader, it seems like we've hit a dead end! Thank you so much for accompanying us on this small suicide run! Wink, wink (not a sign of irony, by the way. I'm just proclaiming my love for you in a unique way!).
"HOW ABOUT YOU APOLOGISE TO US FIRST?"
"How about you apologise to us first?" they scream simultaneously.
♪
As you can already guess, or story doesn't have a good ending. Sure, we could've holed up alongside the king, but honestly, what's been the point of such an action? And it would've definitely been against my work ethics! Though we're not at work and, sadly, also not getting paid. Au contraire, my finances this month are looking bleak now! Kiddy is quite the heavy drinker…#
It happened as we were headed to the roof. We could've honestly just stayed where we were, waiting for the inevitable end that bloody revolutions usually signify for small folk. But I thought, hey, why not enjoy our last moments on this planet by looking at its blue, blue sky before we get blown into bits, which we did soon after. There's nothing like an explosion, after all!
Epilogue 2
“We’re so not going to die here!”
“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”
"You hear that? Your little brother doesn't want to die. Don't you feel like you've got to keep him alive for a bit longer?"
“Not really,” I answer honestly.
Kiddy grips me by the neck, no, actually, by the collar, but you know, the dramaticssss.
"Stop drifting into your own world. We're going to get out of here, you understand?" she hisses at me ominously. No, really, I mean it. It wasn't all that intimidating, for that, she's just too cute!
"Okay, okay, I get it. So either we climb down the cliff or back to the gate it is! Though we should probably get rid of these dresses in either case."
We already significantly modified our dresses during part one of our great uprising, if that's what you call our somewhat random actions. Well, blowing up a part of these castle walls should count as an uprising, shouldn’t it?
We opt for the castle walls. Simply for the practical reason that heading back, going against this flow of people, is literally impossible. So, climbing it is.
Having taken the most epic journey of all literature as an example, I always carry some rope with me. And get hit on the head by Kiddy for that.
“What do you suppose we do with 50 feet? This is a fucking cliff!!”
“Hey, no curse words, please! We’re PG-13!”
“ARE WE USING THE ROPE TO CLIMB DOWN?”
Be my guest.
“We could add curtains and stuff like they do in movies?”
“Sure. I want to entrust my life to some dusty old curtains.”
“Do you have an alternative?”
“Bitch”
I'm beginning to think I should probably give up on the PG-13 thing by now. Or maybe curse words and off-screen gore are actually acceptable?
“We begin to tie everything remotely useful to our very literary lifeline, interrupted by the onslaught several times. But we’re not space travellers for pretence, so they never had any real chance, anyways.
Having finished constructing our masterpiece, we start climbing out of one of the castle's countless windows.
Well, as you've already guessed, dear reader, we have just hit another dead end and the ground all at the same time! That should give us some bonus experience points, don’t you think? Anyways, that sure ended with a plop. Kind of boring, wouldn’t you say? Let’s try again!!!!!
Epilogue 3
“I’m so not gonna forgive you if we die this time around!” Kiddy begins to complain.
While I still feel unjustly held responsible for this mess, I, too, do believe it'd be best to end things with this. You know, three's the charm, and since I'm a very charming person, three is my number! That said, I pull Fereshteh and Kiddy into a corridor before triggering the explosion. Figured we might need his hearing for our perfect run.
I watch in awe as the beautiful rainbow-coloured explosion shatters the outer wall. This is some fine gunpowder, if I've ever seen any, made by the ingenious minds from planet What’sitsname? I sure hope no one got hurt by that. But then again, what better day to die than on the day of a revolution.
“No.”
What?
“No.”
Excuse me?
“No!”
“Whatever could you be referring to?”
“No explosion!” Kiddy hisses through her teeth as she starts pulling at Fereshteh's necklace.
"Hey, wait, stop! That's not a time-turner! That's a miniature perpetual motion machine!"
“Whatever, who cares!” Kiddy decides as she throws the necklace into the fire caused by the explosion.
“Nooooooo! Not the perpetual motion machine! It took me so long to complete it! Ah, whatever. I get it," defeatedly, I snap my fingers.
Epilogue 4
"You know, I had this whole theme going with the number three, okay? I even went on to explain how the number compliments me! Now they'll take me for a fool!" I trumpet for anyone to hear who dares to head outside on a day of turmoil and riots. That would be us, and only us.
“Did you say anything like that?”
"I thought it!" I boast. Wait, is that even something worth bragging about? Anyways, as you have already guessed, my dear readers, we're back in one piece with no destroyed necklaces whatsoever. Really, this girl! To throw someone else's hard work into the fire!
“So, are we going to blow up the castle gate again?”
“NO!”
“You heard the boss, bro. You’re always so fast to resort to violence. Makes me wonder who brought you up?”
“YOU!!”
“YOU!” they cry in synchrony.
“It’s really mean to gang up on a frail young lady such as myself!” I pout cutely, cutely I say! As we make our way through the silent corridors, with only the ruckus far behind and the thundering ahead of us as our BGM. I guess it’s not really all that silent, is it?
"No explosions whatsoever, or you'll never see your balls again!"
“Balls? Last time I checked, I didn’t have any. Oh, you mean those. Haha, I see what you are doing. Very clever of you!" I break out in cold sweat as I face one of Kiddy's moments of bloodlust.
“I get it already! I do know how to play stealth mode!”
“Then why won’t you ever do it?!”
"Because I prefer to go out with a loud bang! Stop looking so disgusted, Kitty cat. It really hurts my feelings."
“You have feelings?”
Why does my own flesh and blood sound so astonished? Not that we’re related by blood.
Following stealth mode procedures, we head for the hallway above the gates to operate the opening mechanism manually, the civilised way to do things while naturally having to take out the guards.
"Huh? This isn't so bad, actually. Has its whole own suave!" I renounce my ways. Stealth mode can be pretty swell if executed properly.
Deciding to take a stance this time around, I rip apart my pompous dress and throw its remains outside through an opening in the wall before calling out to the rabble below:
“My fellow comrades from beyond the walls! We might be nothing but travellers from a distant planet, but we've been greatly moved by your relentlessness in your search for justice. Therefore, we have decided to lend you a helping hand. While we couldn't bring you the king's head, please, brothers and sisters, take this as a peace offering!" I motion to Kiddy and Fereshteh to pull up the gate.
In streams the rabble, and due to our meticulous nature, no guards were anywhere to be found from here to the ballroom, leaving them the advantage of stealth while not being all that stealthy. We make our way down to the gate, and though some throw us a more or less amicably look, most rush past. They do have bigger fish to catch, after all.
“That sure went easy,” Fereshteh marvels as we make our way back to our ship. There are still a handful of skirmishes taking place outside. And following our good deeds play mode, I take out whoever looks all too much in love with their job serving as the evil king's henchman by protruding countless tentacles from beneath my undergarment.
"If you've had these, you could've used them from the start!"
"No need to be so upset, little brother! A good tactician always saves their trump card for last."
“But not after dying several times!”
“You’re always such a nit-picker!”
"Whatever," Kiddy wisely remarks as she stuffs her pipe with weed, abandoning her party dress. Only Fereshteh keeps wearing it. Maybe he's taken a liking to it? It does look nice on him.
“No more tea parties anytime soon,” she declares, allowing no refusal, “And Neve, drinks are on you!”