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The VocaLords
Episode THREE Chapter THREE - T.O.P.

Episode THREE Chapter THREE - T.O.P.

With T.O.P.'s help, Gumi gathered up what little of her life still mattered to her at Club Kocchi Muite. Then, sneaking out a back door, they escaped.

Already Gumi felt relief. She spent so little time outdoors these days, and rarely ever during the crush of night time revelry. The bustling crowds and neon lights pained her and confused her. Early morning was the better, for at that hour, she could watch the sun rise on empty city streets while running her errands. Now, at the peak of entertainment activity, everything glowed and buzzed, while people chattered and jostled.

T.O.P. held Gumi's left hand firmly as he guided her through the chaos. This allowed her to use her right hand to keep the hood of her jacket pulled down over her face.

Until she pulled hard enough on his hand to force him to stop. "I want my mask!" Gumi hissed in garbled tones once his face was with her in the hood of her jacket, to find out what she wanted.

He refused to let her have it. "Wearing it all the time worsens your condition. You need to leave it off."

"You think I don't know that?"

The newly formed couple spent a moment of silence together inside the red hoodie, as T.O.P. refused to answer her question.

"Let me wear my goggles!" she hissed, trying to sound ferocious.

All she did was spit on herself. He took a corner of his kerchief she still clutched and dabbed at her chin, speaking in tones more silken than the fabric.

"Your goggles are worse than your mask. They clamp on your face so tight."

"I can't see anything!"

The man Gumi met mere moments ago gave her a smile she had not yet seen. In the pretend privacy of the hood of her jacket, his lips seemed to stretch forever, spreading very wide. They retained their fullness as they grew a pale shade of macaroon. When the skin of his perfect cheeks met the corners of his eyes, the smile finally stopped. The cobalt blue of his eyes held firm, never wavering as he remained silent.

Time seemd to stand still for Gumi. She wished to remember what it was like to have lips that could do such things. Her breath came in pants, matching the beat of her racing heart. It raced not so much for the beauty of the man, for there certainly was that, but for the fact that he would bother to smile at her at all.

A handsome man at that, smiling at her hideous face. Words came from the smile, forcing time to resume moving.

"We've only a short distance to go. I've called for my car, and it's right around this bend. Once we're safely inside, all the noise and this bad smell will go away."

Gumi forced herself to respond, carefully so as to not spit. She realized she'd been talking to this man more than to any other person in years, ever since her days playing lead guitar for The VocaLords.

Ever since her days writing songs with Miku and VioLinja.

"Okay," Gumi said. She pulled hard on T.O.P.'s right hand, forcing him to stay a little longer with her in the hood of her jacket. "Have you got everything?" she asked, to watch his eyebrows express bewilderment.

The man didn't bother looking at the collection of sacks and bags he was carrying. Willingly transfixed by Gumi's snow white cheeks and hazel eyes, he only gave her a nod.

"Is everything else in your backpack?" he then asked, referring to what Gumi wore on her back.

"From Kocchi Muite." she gasped, as speaking was wearing on her. "But my place?"

T.O.P. extracted his head from Gumi's hood to resume leading her through the crowd, at a more gracious pace than before. "I'll send somebody there from the crew. You may go with them if you wish, but once aboard my ship, might I suggest you begin your recuperation process immediately?"

Gumi tugged on the hand in her possession to express concern without having to speak.

"We'll talk more in the car, where it's quiet," T.O.P. said with understanding. "It's only a moment away."

Soon they were in the back of a chauffeured car; a dark sedan with plush velvet seats. "This smells better." T.O.P. said, himself also relieved. "It sure stinks out there tonight!"

Pressed into a corner of the big sedan, Gumi peeked at T.O.P. from under her hood. "You can smell the air?" she asked, confused. "There's something bad that stinks?"

He gazed at her with empathy. "You can't really smell much, can you?"

Gumi shook her head, embarrassed.

"This air is no good for you. It's dirty and smoggy and damp."

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A flush of strawberry cream crept over her cheeks. How embarrassing! To not know the air stinks!

"Once we're away from port, the air will be far cleaner. You'll see how it revives you. We'll head north, where cooler air will close your pores."

Hearing T.O.P. talk about sailing away filled Gumi with too many emotions. Some were good and some bad. She didn't want to dwell on the bad ones, but the goods ones worried her more. She'd been dwelling on fear and negativity ever since getting hired—and hiding—at Club Kocchi Muite.

Starting tonight, Gumi decided, she would not hide anymore. Despite the mountain of self-respect she had for herself, she slid across the seat of the sedan, to sit beside T.O.P. and sigh. A bit surprised, he responded by embracing her with an arm.

Gumi snuggled in further, pulling her hood over her entire face.

"You're lucky you can't smell this city," he said to the outside of the hood.

Inside the hood, Gumi smiled. Well, I guess there's always that.

T.O.P. signaled to his driver, and Club Kocchi Muite faded away.

The size of the ship T.O.P. commanded was more than Gumi expected. It was a research vessel now fitted to serve as an ocean liner, easily capable of housing several hundred people. T.O.P. led Gumi down a hallway two floors below decks.

"Any stateroom that's unlocked, you may claim as your own. Most of the rooms on the port side are accoutered for women. Feel free to rummage around and find clothing you like in your size."

All Gumi could do was look at T.O.P. with bewilderment.

"I've other matters to tend to," he explained. "Treat this ship as your home. Find someplace comfortable and get some rest."

T.O.P. took hold of Gumi's left hand and kissed it with his macaroon lips. Then, after touching his lips to the top of her hood, he turned and walked away.

"Food and entertainment are one floor up." he said over his shoulder as he headed toward stairs leading down. "Feel free to check things out!"

With that, in a narrow passageway amid a strange ship, Gumi was alone. She shuddered, recalling how terribly alone she'd felt after singing He Was Gone to T.O.P. when they first met. She looked at her bags of stuff that now lay at her feet. Finding the door to the nearest cabin unlocked, she dumped out all her junk onto one of the room's two beds.

Her things looked dirty and gross in comparison to the clean room. Upset with everything about herself, Gumi left the room and continued down the passageway. She stuffed her hands deep in her pockets, until she realized that the leggings she had on, her deck shoes and shirt and hooded jacket—everything she was wearing was as grubby as the stuff she'd left on the bed. Turning on her heels, she tromped back to the room. After staring at her junk for a moment, she stripped naked and added that to the pile.

She rummaged through the room, soon realizing all the clothes it held were better suited for a larger woman. She picked through her own clothes for a moment, but they were mostly stripper outfits and the kinds of things hookers wore. It disgusted her to even touch them.

Gumi turned back to the clothing in the room. One drawer contained swimsuits, including bikinis. She was busty for a woman her size, and found a bikini halter top that she could make fit. Picking through her stuff again, she was able to match it with a bottom of her own. Back in the dresser drawers, Gumi dug out a flouncy wrap skirt and tied it to her waist. She donned a pair of flip-flops she had brought with her and headed for the bathroom, to check her look in the mirror.

Upon opening the door she froze, stopping only to stare. The door was a full length mirror on the inside, and with it, she assessed her whole body. A long time had passed since she'd ever done such a thing in a full mirror, and doing so suddenly without expecting to was jarring.

Across her chest and ribs were patches that resembled tattoos. They were where the wires to her vocalizer and guitar plugged in. They led directly to her heart, so she could perform the Winnowing. Coupled with the Powder of God, the tattoo interfaces allowed her essence to flow through the crowd at concerts when she performed. It was with this ability that Gumi sorted souls. She'd peek into the heart of every person, using the vibrations her music sent through them to determine whether they were Good or Evil.

The Good ones she sent home. The Evil ones she sent to Hell.

Gumi sighed. Head to toe, she looked a wreck. She again donned her grubby red jacket, and again tromped out the door.

She headed down the stairs that T.O.P. had used to abandon her. Two decks down, she found storage rooms. A quick look at the paucity of supplies gave her the impression that the crew on board was small in comparison to the ship. She then traveled up one deck. She found little in the way of passages, as the deck seemed set up for things such as laundry and sick bay and the like.

Gumi began trying doors. One set of swinging double-wide doors was unlocked, leading to the ship's galley. All others doors were locked, either by simple key and deadbolt, or by electronic swipe card.

After a moment of contemplation, a door of the latter type swung open. Gumi quietly watched as two men in lab coats exited. With the door between her and them, the men didn't notice her grab its knob moments before it swung shut.

A single peek in the room left her in shock. It was a functional Cybernetics lab, crammed with all manner of machinery. Five full-body tech tables punctuated the floor. Two were for bodyscan imaging, while three were for nanobot implantation. Scattered throughout the room were cryogenic chambers for the construction and preservation of body parts, with other chambers meant to for things like silicon nerve generation.

Gumi recognized these things in an instant. She'd been in labs such as this many times while getting cybernetically enhanced.

If there were any other persons in the lab besides the two that had left, Gumi couldn't see them from the doorway where she stood. She headed for a clean room sectioned off in a far corner. Its door was also locked, this one with a palm print scanner as the key. Peering through its glass walls, Gumi confirmed its function.

It was for synthesizing the Powder of God.

Angry emotions attacked. Who is this bastard, T.O.P.?

Gumi spun this way and that on her heels, hoping to find him in the lab. She also hoped to yell at him as best as she could, right into his pretty face.

Why did you bring me here?

Going around another corner of the lab, Gumi was again left in shock. Besides that bastard T.O.P., it was the other thing she had been looking for. Along a wall by the side of the Synthesizing Room was a rack of Les Paul guitars.

One of them was cherry red, looking exactly like hers.

Gumi roared about, banging things and smacking objects, making noise to draw attention. She noticed a security camera mounted in a corner of the ceiling, upon which an 'on' light glowed red. Spitting all over herself, screaming hoarse and violent whispers, she glared into the camera.

"T.O.P.! Where are you?"

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T.O.P.'s Cryogenic Lab [https://i1346.photobucket.com/albums/p688/HardeeBurger/The%20VocaLords%20-%20CyperPunk%20Lab%20-%20RESIZED_zpskv7wpxr3.gif]