113(A/N: I am infinitely sorry that this chapter is so late. I apologize. I had my part completed a while ago, but then Copper wanted to write as well (he did say he quit a couple chapters back, and I'm glad he actually didn't, but did he have to take so darn long with this part?), and he took... yeah, over three weeks. And then I had band camp, so the upload is late, and you shouldn't expect quick updates from now on. I can feel myself slowing down as well... Also, just to let you people know, I have no idea how banjos are played. I don't even know how to play the guitar outside of theory. Clarinetist, folks, not a string instrument player.
(Lyra: And yet you gave Orange a banjo.
(Petal: ...It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. It was either that or an accordion, and a banjo can be used like a club in battle even though it's not advisable to use a musical instrument as a combat weapon.
(Lyra: *sigh* Unbelievable.
(Bob the cameraman: Uh, can we get a move on? The batteries on this thing are low. *taps camera*
(Petal: Yeah, yeah. Nothing be owned here, folks, particularly not the Dying Will Flame that isn't actually used, only referenced... Or the multiple other references. Yes, the reference queen is back, folks.)
Lyra was tapping her foot into the ground.
Natalie had her pilot shades pulled down over her eyes and was watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic stoicness.
Mithril was running in crazed circles around Lyra and Natalie. What was going on? First the shiny thing appeared, then Orange's eyes went glassy, then they started glowing, and then sometime later, Chu's eyes did the same. Repeat, what was going on?!
"Calm down," snapped a very irate Lyra, spitting out some of the girl's hair that had flown into her face. The redhead was beginning to wear a crater into the moist morning soil. "Freaking out isn't going to help at all."
Her words had virtually no effect on the other girl. If anything, Mithril only sped up, and she didn't look like she would run out of energy any time soon. Her hair smacked into Lyra's face again.
"Natalie, you say something to her, too!" the ninja yelled in frustration, turning to the older girl. When she got no response, she frowned and snapped her fingers in front of Natalie's face. "Wait, don't tell me..." she muttered, reaching up and yanking off the sunglasses.
Her suspicions were confirmed. Natalie had fallen asleep standing up. While Mithril had a surplus of energy, Natalie was evidently not a morning person and had fallen asleep as soon as the chance arose, probably the moment when she pulled down her shades. Lyra kicked her leg experimentally and found that her knees were locked like a horse pokemon's. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if this was the way the woman normally slept- in her brief time at The Boss's hideout, Lyra had learned that Natalie was in charge of caring for the steeds, and from her one visit to the stables, she knew the blonde did the job well.
But back to the matter at hand, Mithril's frenzied sprint was still happening, and Lyra could swear that the grass and ground itself would remain forever marked, much like Mithril would be if she couldn't keep her hair from Lyra's face. Lyra felt a growl building in the back of her throat, and she was about to lash out when-
SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~
Everyone present would later swear that they heard a chorus of angels belting out a sound of miracles as Orange snapped out of the trance he'd been in. The glowing of the magic circle died down, and the gemstones were no different than the average round stone. Orange himself had a determined yet peaceful look on his face, almost as if he was privy to important secrets of the world- just not the ones that would cause people to lose their minds. He blinked once, twice, realized where he was, and turned around with a grin to match the sun coming up over the horizon. "I did it!" he cheered victoriously, raising a fist. Chu leaped up from the grass and met it with his own.
"Bwuh-!" Natalie's eyes snapped open at the exclamation, and she looked around, her braid whipping Lyra in the face. "Whaddappened?!"
"HE DID IT!" Mithril screamed at the top of her lungs. With another unbelievable burst of energy, she raced towards Orange. Natalie moved to follow suit, but she fell over- her knees hadn't yet unlocked. Lyra shot her a smug glare- served her right- and went to join the group of people crowding around the bard at a more sedate pace. Natalie, unknowing of what she'd done to deserve the glare, stared in bewilderment before shaking her head and running forward with an unsteady, staggering gait.
"Well done," Crystal said with relief, patting Orange on the shoulder. She looked like she was about to faint, and Silver and Green moved behind her as support in case the event came to pass. Both men gave the boy approving looks when they saw his banjo.
"I'm proud of ya, kiddo," Red chuckled, hooking one arm around his son's neck and using the other to deliver a light, playful punch to the youth's shoulder.
Orange just grinned, too happy and excited to speak after his initial outburst. Jo was in better condition that it'd been in in years, its wood clear of the stains and dents that had littered it before and the tightened strings catching the light of the morning sun. Set in the back of the head was a shining white gem, various colors floating around it, expanding and dilating blobs of a pastel rainbow. Despite the evident upgrade, Orange still found a comfortable grip at the neck of the instrument where his left hand had held it countless times, and he could feel the grooves of the letters of his name carved into the back of the peghead.
"My sacrifice was not in vain!" Mithril chirped, delivering a hard punch to his arm. Lyra rolled her eyes.
"You had that gem for what, a day? Two days?"
"It was still too awesome to give up easily!"
"No, more importantly, what're we going to say to Queen Lorelei now that her magic gauntlet isn't magic anymore?" Natalie wondered. Lyra froze, and Crystal really did faint. Luckily, neither her adviser nor her friend had moved from his position and caught her before she fell.
Orange flapped his father and the rest of the small crowd away and turned to the lone figure standing detached from the circle and watching from a distance in which she was in no danger of getting her eardrums busted. "I'm ready," he said determinedly.
Kaz's smile had an ominous note in it, and her eyes flashed with equal, if not more, determination as she nodded curtly in response. "Good."
"It's good to know that you two are prepared, but we still need to find The Boss's location," Green interjected. He left Silver to take care of the still passed out queen and pulled a bowl from one of his tacky, voluminous sleeves. "Slekt." It filled with water, and he glanced at Orange. "I'm going to start scrying. In the meantime, I want you to play your banjo and with the intent of finding The Boss. Just... focus. Just like training for a sword technique, visualization is half of achieving a spell." He held a hand over the bowl and murmured a few words. Hazy static appeared, and Orange took that as his cue. He positioned the fingers of his left hand on the strings of the neck and smiled in anticipation, eager to hear the no doubt beautiful sound that would come from his instrument. Everyone except Kaz and the unconscious Crystal leaned forward a bit, even Lyra. Orange lifted his right hand and began plucking the strings.
The reactions to his 'music' were mixed. From Green's gritted teeth to Red's wince to Lyra's horrified scream to Mithril keeling over, Orange's little concert was not received well.
(Far away, Adamant and Eleanor suddenly had the feeling that leaving the castle and returning home had been the right decision.)
However, Orange was too absorbed in the happy feeling of picking up his instrument again after so much time abstaining from playing it to notice. He burst into off-key singing to accompany the deranged keening Jo was releasing, some nonsensical lyrics about chasing a Butterfree. Chu rolled his eyes and took out the Elexecutor and perform his usual duty- damage control. Their audience was grateful to hear the somewhat musical chimes of the triangle over the the terrible screeching Orange had the gall to call music.
Green concentrated on his mini scrying pool. The vibrations of the music were creating ripples across the water, but it was better than the static he'd had to contend with before. After a quick spell to shield the pool from the vibrations, he saw the image clear as day.
Mt. Chimney.
Sitting by the volcano was The Boss, a violin in hand and a cast-off sword and staff off somewhere to the side, both of which were missing the gems usually adorning them. Instead, the precious stones were being held by a man with black hair. Two more people, a man with two broadswords and a woman with a scythe, were also standing by, but Green didn't pay them much mind.
"Figures," he muttered before raising his voice. "The Boss is on Mt. Chimney!"
Only the people standing closest to him and farthest from Orange heard him. Natalie, being late because of her slow start, jogged over to peek at the scrying pool. Kaz remained where she was but gave a nod to affirm that she heard. Orange continued to massacre whatever tune he was attempting to play and had no idea what was going on. Green cast a projection spell and yelled again, "The Boss is on Mt. Chimney!" Orange finally stopped playing, and everyone else swiveled to look at Green with grateful eyes and ears. "From what I can tell, he has three subordinates with him," he continued. "Ms. Kaahn's brother, a swordsman, and a scythe-wielder." His eyes narrowed. "Everyone who is going, raise your hands. We'll ready your transportation accordingly. If all goes well, you should arrive at the mountain in a few days."
"And if we don't?" Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow. Green's grimace was her answer. They didn't have much more time left before the fifty year cooldown period was over.
"How do you even know when he can do the ritual thing again?" Mithril interrupted, picking herself up from the ground. She made sure to deliver a kick to Orange's shin as punishment for torturing her ears. Lyra looked on approvingly.
"Simple," Green answered. "Giant explosions of purple light and Yveltal's shadow that can be seen from the other side of the kingdom tend to be flashy, noticeable, and recorded." Which also probably meant that The Boss knew about their own ritual, but they could still hope. They did, after all, have Hope. "So? Who's going?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Orange screamed for the hundred and twenty first time in the past ten hours, clutching Jo tightly with one hand to ensure that the banjo didn't fly out of his grip. His other hand was ensnared in the reins with his arm wrapped in a death grip around the Zebstrika he was riding. His legs were clamped around its middle as it galloped full throttle, sped up by the spell Green had cast before they left. Oh, why couldn't they have used Jo's power to teleport? Ah, right- there was too high a risk that he, being an amateur at magic, wouldn't be able to handle such a delicate task and would end up teleporting their bodies without their guts and insides. But still, Orange didn't ride- he walked or boarded a wagon. His experience with equine pokemon was negligible, and although he had learned how to ride them when he was a child, he still shied away- partially because of a traumatizing incident involving a rearing Ponyta and almost getting stomped on, and partially because he just wasn't familiar with them. His childhood friend Turquoise had always told him that his lack of riding skills would someday come back to bite him, but had he listened to her? Nope. And now he was paying for it. He wished that he could retreat into a pokeball like Chu had (the little electric-type normally despised the confines of the ball and almost always stayed out of it, but today was an exception), but alas. He was tired and was going numb, but they weren't stopping anytime soon.
Natalie, by contrast, was having the time of her life. She let out a throaty whoop as Greg carried her faster than he ever had before and threw one arm out as an offering for the wind to toy with while keeping the other firmly planted on her hat to protect Tiki who was taking refuge within it. Her shades protected her eyes from the blasted streaming that Orange was going through, and she was in her element. Greg whinnied, but it was more like a Ponyta version of a roar, and sped up. The air currents and landscape sped past them even more quickly, and they felt free, so free, and fast, and light, and happy-
Until they caught sight of the harsh, steely glare of their group's eldest member and unofficial leader, because screw putting on a facade of a saccharine disposition, there was a deadline to meet, and no one messed around with deadlines, particularly deadlines as serious as this. Kaz squinted against the wind, clearly wanting to go faster despite the breakneck speed she was already pushing her Zebstrika to, and Natalie sobered immediately. That's right, this wasn't all fun and games. They weren't here to have fun riding, they were here to get to the port, board a ship, and set sail for the Hoenn region of the kingdom- and Mt. Chimney. Kaz had quieted and dropped her false smile, instead opting for a stern but neutral expression that Natalie decided was determination personified. The white-haired woman had the most personal reason to kill The Boss, after all; her brother had been kidnapped, and she wanted to get him back. It was as simple as that.
But was it? After she rescued him, what then? From what Natalie had gleaned from her conversations with Lyra and the other members of the ninja squad, Kaz was dedicated to the sole purpose of finding and taking back Benjen, even going so far as to shackle herself to the ninja force to use its vast influence and information network. There was no other purpose pushing her. So what would happen when she achieved her objective? Would she have no more dreams to fulfill? Obsession was unhealthy- it dragged you in and didn't let up until you were completely enthralled. Natalie knew that from one of Kara's weekly lectures. She sincerely hoped that Kaz had planned for after happily ever after, or the world would have one very dangerous, very bored individual on its hands. Actually, scratch that, two if 700 got his emotions and memories back. If that ever happened, Natalie planned to be very far away, perhaps with a peaceful life in Qi'Dreh as a horse breeder- the animals were much less dangerous than the electricity-spewing, fire-spitting equine pokemon she usually handled.
"NAT!" Mithril shouted over the howl of the air currents. She had produced a pair of goggles from out of nowhere after learning of how fast the pokemon would be going, though Natalie had her suspicions that her friend had mastered the use of the hammerspace bag she had bought during one mission in the Kalos region, a rather large star-shaped island in the west of the kingdom's territory.
"WHAT!" Natalie yelled back, slowing Greg just enough to allow Mithril and her mount to keep pace. The Ponyta let out an irritated, competitive snort, but Natalie paid the action no mind- it was in his nature, after all.
"YOU SAW THE THING IN THE SCRYING BOWL, RIGHT?! HOW WAS LEON?!"
Ah, so that's what this was about. Mithril was concerned about their friend, especially after she had learned who Aria was. They had been puzzling over it in the infirmary when Kara went to visit Mithril, a basket of fruit on one arm and a long tirade of a reprimand at the tip of her tongue. Being that she was one of the smartest people they knew, they asked her about it, and she clucked her tongue and guessed that it might have been a friend or a member of his family. She left the basket and departed, returning an hour later with a book listing the casualties of the border raid to Leon's hometown. Twenty minutes after that, Natalie struck gold and held the page in Mithril's line of sight so she could see- Aria Notus, age estimated six or seven by people from Opelucid City who had seen her. The corpses had been burned by the raiders (presumably soldiers from the neighboring kingdom of Fulder, though Konton wasn't ready to go into full-on war, and the peace treaty between them was fragile enough already), but there had been no survivors and the entire village was presumed dead. This was, of course, false- after all, Leon had survived. But more to the point, Kara had guessed that Leon had seen Aria where Mithril stood. She also surmised that when Mithril first joined The Organization five years previous, a mere child of ten years, he had taken it upon himself to look out for her, perhaps to atone for failing to protect his sister as was likely the case. Kara had berated herself for not realizing sooner, considering he would always bring back souvenirs for Mithril from his missions, usually grapes or something related to them. Natalie had once conjectured that he liked grapes, but giving it some thought, perhaps it had been his dead sister who had liked them.
"HE WASN'T LOOKING SO GOOD!" Natalie shouted. "REALLY SHAKEN, YA KNOW?"
"THAT PROBABLY MEANS HE'LL BE WEAKER THAN USUAL," Mithril decided, a tentative grin building on her features. "WE SHOULD TAKE THE CHANCE AND CAPTURE HIM! THEN WE TALK THINGS OUT WITH HIM!"
"TALK THINGS OUT WITH WHO?!" Orange yelped as his ride caught up to them. Natalie and Mithril shared a look before turning to him and answering in perfect unison.
"NO ONE!"
"WE'RE APPROACHING AZALEA TOWN!" Kaz yelled, referring to the southernmost in-land town of the Johto region. Just beyond it was the bustling port city of Hyacinth where their boat should be prepared. They would stay the night in an inn before traversing the stretch of sea to the Hoenn region where they would then proceed to Mt. Chimney.
Unfortunately, life never goes as planned.
They passed through Azalea without much incident (they almost got held up by a suspicious-looking group trying to sell Slowpoke tails, but Kaz quickly took care of that- her glare was absolutely terrifying, and her traveling companions would later swear that they had seen dark horns growing from her head, something Green would categorize as a fear-induced hallucination), but when they reached Hyacinth, it was dead silent, almost like a ghost town. This wasn't right; it wasn't right at all. Port cities were supposed to be bustling hubs of trade, fish, and activity, filled with the jabber of a hundred different dialects of ten different languages. There should have been housewives haggling with vendors as if they were born doing it, fishermen hauling in their catches, lost tourists wandering around and speaking in broken Kontonian, children pickpocketing and pranking, shady folks selling their dubious wares.
None of that was going on. The housewives were in their homes, peering through slitted windows with dark glares. The vendors had left their stalls. The fishermen's boats were smashed. The tourists were nowhere to be seen. The children were not laughing. The conmen had deserted.
When the traveling party arrived, the silence picked up into quiet muttering, distrustful and distasteful. Kaz was instantly on guard, her hands folding themselves into their sleeves after she slid off the Zebstrika she had been riding and fingering the knives hidden in them. Following her cue, Natalie, Orange, and Mithril's hands strayed to their swords, alertly scanning their surroundings.
"There's no use doing that," a voice called, lilting and dark at the same time. Four heads and eight eyes turned to the source. Seven hands gripped weapons firmly. A figure stepped out of the shadow of a bell tower, silver hair giving a ghostly sheen.
Genevieve's eyes narrowed as she glared at the group. "Hello, Mithril," she spat. "I assume you know why I'm here?"
"To beg me for forgiveness and permission to join my heroic empire?" Mithril guessed. Orange facevaulted. Natalie, given that she was the girl's best friend, was used to the slightly skewed reality Mithril lived in. Kaz didn't let any of this affect her, instead focusing her sights on the enemy that needed to be eradicated.
"Who is this and what is she doing here," the woman hissed, eyeing the opponent with disdain and aggression because she was busy and simply had no time to deal with this.
Genevieve allowed herself a self-assured smirk. "I'm the one who's going to kill you," she announced.
"Big words!" Mithril fired back. "I fought you myself, and your power doesn't even match up to any of these guys! Except Orange, but he's squeamish!" The indignant sputter of protest that came from the only male member of the party ended in a resigned sigh. He couldn't deny what she said, not that she'd listen to him anyway. "Besides, we're kind of busy right now, so we're just gonna go on ahead!" Their original plan was in shambles, after all. They couldn't stay in one place, and besides, it was highly unlikely that any inn would take them considering their current predicament.
"Oh, I don't think so," Genevieve said idly. "I have plenty of time to kill you, and then them. Disarming bombs isn't the quickest of procedures, and it's also a rather delicate one. And you can't just slice them off or you'll be opening nasty holes in your little boat."
Kaz froze, then cursed under her breath. Of course there would be trap laid here. What was their help doing? Either dead or hiding, considering the rest of the town. "Do any of you know how to disarm a bomb?" she hissed to her companions. Mithril winced, Natalie grimaced, and Orange just looked confused. Right. Two of them were usually the ones setting the bombs, and the last was a total amateur. She should have taken Lyra along, and she half-wondered why she hadn't done so in the first place. Heck, even Nicholas and Eleanor would have been of more help here. But there was no helping it; she would simply have to deal with situation using the tools- people- whatever- on hand. "Alright. Mithril, she's targeting you, so keep her occupied. Natalie, you stay with her as back-up. Orange, you're my shield." At the boy's incredulous look, she added, "Your father told me you want to protect. Well, it's time to get started!" Without another word nor a glance backwards to see if they were following her orders- her authority and the urgency of the situation were a combination that assured her that they were- she raced off towards the port itself, an unassuming little boat that was also the only one not yet destroyed as her destination. Orange hurried after her, glancing nervously at Genevieve who carelessly tossed her head and allowed him to escape.
"You're fast!" Orange huffed when he caught up to Kaz. The woman was bent over the boat and releasing a steady stream of foul curses that he hadn't even heard before. She paused with the expletives long enough to respond.
"Yes, I have to be. We have a problem," she muttered. "I never learned to perform magic and I also don't have the capacity, but I was trained to sense it. These bombs are a mix of technology and magic." Orange peered over her shoulder and saw clusters of black devices littering the wooden vessel. A countdown was displayed across it clear as day.
"...But I have Jo?" he suggested, hoping the power it granted him would help. Xerneas had granted him the power to help beat The Boss, and this should technically count- they couldn't fight him if they were stuck in Johto because their transportation blew up.
Kaz really didn't want him to use the ear-murdering banjo, but she didn't really have any other choice. She nodded her permission. "I need you to control it exactly as I tell you to," she warned. "This is an extremely delicate process, and if we make so much as one wrong move, it will explode before its timer runs out." And then, just to give him some incentive: "If we can't get to The Boss, you're useless, and therefore it doesn't matter if you die a painful, torturous death of suspicious knife wounds. I would hate for such a thing to happen, wouldn't you?"
"What's your game, Genevieve?!" Mithril demanded, drawing her twin blades.
"Game? I have no idea what you mean," the woman scoffed, readying her scythe. Then her face split into a grin, a slightly deranged one that would have lesser people whimpering in fear (though Kaz would simply scoff at the pale imitation of true insanity). "Oh wait, I do! This is a game, after all. A race. I have a device that will immediately shut down the bombs, and your little friends are going to have quite a spot of trouble disarming them if they can do it at all. If you get it, you win. But, well... You won't." Mithril got tired of waiting (and half wondered why she bothered to do so in the first place before remembering that monologues generally aren't supposed to be interrupted, but whatever, this was Genevieve, and she had beaten Genevieve once before already) and charged, Lady Deadly set to stab and Sir Sharp ready to slice. Genevieve simply made use of her longer legs and backpedaled, continuing her speech. "You see, this is a grudge match. I admit what you did before was impressive, but that was with the air gem which you don't have anymore. In other words..." Her back hit a wall. Mithril smirked triumphantly and dove Lady Deadly in for the kill.
"You're useless."
Genevieve was no longer faced with the tower to her right- Sir Sharp didn't get to taste action because she leaped away from him and his compatriot. She laughed gleefully at the enraged expression on Mithril's face which made the girl look rather like a Primeape.
"Say that again, I dare you!" the blancette roared, charging once more with reckless abandon. "Also, I WILL DEFEAT THE LONG-HAIR WITH MY DYING WILL!" Genevieve just laughed once again, whirling her scythe in front of her like a baton.
"I'll say it as many times as I need to in order to get it through to you, you thick-headed little Mankey," she taunted, finally stopping the twirling and gripping it firmly with both hands. With a sweeping motion, she swung it in a horizontal arc, and Mithril ducked only to be met with a very sharp heel that sent her flying backwards. "Reminds you of our last battle, doesn't it?" Mithril didn't reply, merely gasped and coughed where she lay after having the wind knocked out of her. "I said, doesn't it?!" Genevieve strode over and viciously kicked her in the stomach. Natalie screamed her friend's name and rushed over to help, refusing to be a bystander any longer, but she was stopped in her tracks when a thin, fragile-looking arm raised itself shakily.
"No," Mithril wheezed, swaying as she struggled to stand. Genevieve looked on with a quirked eyebrow. "You heard the crazy lady, Nat. This is a grudge match. It's between me and her, and you can't interrupt. Besides..." She leaned heavily on her swords, bracing them to the ground. Then she looked up, glaring with jarring intensity. "I can't be the leader of a heroic empire if I rely on my minions to help me win a match of pride." She paused, allowing the statement to sink in. "Also, insta-grow water turTLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!" She screeched the last syllable as she bent backwards, almost as if she was limbo-ing under the scythe strike. Genevieve had gotten tired of waiting as well.
"Nice try," the woman sneered. "Let me tell you a little something. Qi'Dreh is a land of magic where names have power. My name, Genevieve- it's a butchered version of my actual name. Genehfi means red in my language- red as my scythe, red as a Yul berry, red as human blood." Her eyes glittered. "I was born to be an assassin. One slice from my scythe and a deadly poison will enter your system, one that as of yet has no antidote. I'm going to enjoy killing you."
"Ha!" Mithril snorted. "So in other words, you're so weak that you have to rely on poison to defeat people!" Unfortunately, her body disagreed with her words as it backed up several paces. Her stance became more wary, more defensive. If Genevieve- Genehfi- come to think of it, what should she call her?- eh, Sparkers stayed Sparkers, so Genevieve would stay Genevieve- was telling the truth, then being nicked by the blade would have... unfortunate repercussions. And Mithril hated repercussions. Paying for people's medical bills after murdering their eyes with her artistic drawings? Ew. Dealing with people she ticked off at taverns? Leon made a lovely, solid shield, he really did. Shelling out her meager savings to repair a wall she had destroyed? Pah! Honestly, it was a wonder she hadn't gone bankrupt yet- The Boss had been a miser with her salary. But more to the point, getting a deadly poison in her bloodstream? Ugh. No thank you. She'd have to be careful; she didn't have her artificial Bastiodon face armor to protect her at the moment.
Genevieve smirked, knowing she'd gotten the younger girl exactly where she wanted her- on the defensive. She could take her time now. She walked forward with a slow, deliberate pace, swinging her scythe suddenly and enjoying the sight of Mithril flinching away. How fun. She walked a little faster, and Mithril skittered away, swords crossed defensively in front of her.
The game of cat and mouse could only entertain Genevieve for so long. The woman wanted to see her opponent bleed, and she wanted to see it now. "Ready or not, here I come!" she crowed, grinning again and hurtling forward. Mithril squeaked and ducked, Crystal Destroyer burying itself in the wall above her (whoever was living inside the building screamed) and taking a good-sized length of her hair with it. Her eyes narrowed and her face scrunched up in a frown. Oh, it was on now.
"Double Illusion Sword! Eight Flower Mantis!" she howled, springing forward. Genevieve was caught off guard by the cry and backtracked, expecting some sort of special move and losing her grip on her scythe. She hadn't the time to yank it out of the wall if she wanted to dodge the attack.
Instead, Mithril smiled gleefully and struck her with her twin blades making an X-shaped cut. She had drawn first blood, even if it was shallow. Genevieve cursed her own foolishness- there was no way her enemy was that powerful, and she was an idiot for believing the bluff. She continued to back up, drawing the girl away from her weapon. She even threw in a taunt. "What was it you were saying about being weak?" she drawled. "I might use poison, but you have to rely on bluffs. How pathetic." That got a rise out of her immature opponent, and Mithril let out a frustrated screech before throwing herself into another attack, her swords held in front of her like lances as she charged. Genevieve expected the attack this time and skirted around it, putting on a burst of speed and reaching her discarded scythe in record time before returning to the fight, putting up the weapon just in time to block an overhead strike. She swung it around, and Mithril leaned backwards again to dodge, kicking out with a booted foot. Unfortunately, the blow didn't have nearly as much power as Genevieve's high heels would have, and it also sent the girl herself off-balance, causing her to fall flat on her back. Rats. This wasn't good. The though proved true when Genevieve stomped on her stomach, setting off another round of pained coughing and spluttering.
"I told you. You're weak," the woman sneered, prodding Mithril's neck with the blunt side of her weapon. If she just flipped the scythe, made one little cut...
But Mithril had other plans. She wasn't about to become a lump of poisoned meat, nope! She was going to win, gosh darn it, and no stupid psycho ex-co-worker was going to stop her. She may not have had the air gem any longer, but she would win with the power of YOUTH! She lashed out with every bit of sprightly energy she possessed, kicking Genevieve's leg off of her stomach and squirming away while the woman hissed in pain, grateful that the poisoned blade of the scythe hadn't yet been positioned to cut. She could do this. She could turn the tide. She could win.
"Fine. You asked for it," Genevieve snarled, raising Crystal Destroyer once more. She sped towards Mithril, focused on her target. The girl was suddenly acutely aware of how much longer Genevieve's legs were than hers and how much faster the woman was as a result. Taking the logical decision, the girl ran, determined to play a deadly game of hide-and-seek for as long as possible- or at least until Kaz finished disarming the bombs. Ninja were mysterious folk, so the older blancette was already doing so... right? Mithril hoped with all her might that that was the case. Not only was Genevieve taller than Mithril with longer legs and longer arms, her scythe extended her longer reach in its entire six-foot glory. Mithril's one-and-a-half foot long swords stood no chance in comparison. What she needed to do was get in closer, too close for the scythe to be safe to use, but even then Genevieve had the upper hand. Curse those high heels, and curse Genevieve triple for being able to run and fight in them!
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. "Peek-a-boo!" Genevieve crowed, blocking out the light as she crouched in front of Mithril's latest hiding spot, a stack of crates that created a hollow for nets to be stored. But the girl hadn't chosen the place for its security; she could still knock the crates backwards and dive into the water. She'd be a little waterlogged, sure, and her swords would rust if she didn't take care of them, but that was a small price to pay for victory. And so she scrambled back, throwing her weight against the crates behind her, only to find that she couldn't. She apparently had forgotten to factor in the weight of what they carried.
Well fooey.
Genevieve smirked and dragged her scythe in a light cut against Mithril's neck, and the girl froze. Already she was beginning to feel the numbing effects of the poison spreading throughout her body. Soon, she knew, she would die. Wow. What a short life. She had accomplished much, of course, but her heroic empire had just gotten started. It was a pity she wouldn't live to see her efforts come to fruition. Natalie would have to take control and carry on her dream for her. But really, what a sad way to die. She had always dreamed that she would go down fighting with her army at her back and an overwhelming number of enemies at her front, not from poison. Her vision began to swim, and Genevieve's cackles quieted before getting louder again, repeating the process over and over as Mithril's hearing faded in and out. She couldn't breathe; something was blocking her windpipe, the Capulet-Montague rivalry standing between her lungs' Juliet and oxygen's Romeo. Black ate at the edges of her sight, and she wondered if the last thing she was going to see in the world of the living was Genevieve's sneer.
And then suddenly, the woman was dragged backwards, and the discordant twanging of a banjo in the hands of an untalented musician jarred Mithril into a few more moments of consciousness. For the love of all that was good and holy, what was that?! Was it her welcome into the afterlife?! Was she cursed to listen to it until she paid for her sins during life?! But then something warm seemed to take up residence in her heart, seeming to cleanse the toxin that had wormed its way into her bloodstream, and it expanded, pushing something up her esophagus until she coughed, spitting out a dark red blob that she assumed was the poison. She drew a deep, deep breath of air- she had missed it so while they were parted- and her vision cleared. Unfortunately, her hearing did, too, so she punched the source and made it stop playing.
"Hey! I was helping you!" Orange complained with an offended look on his face. Mithril snorted. Helping her recover from the poison? Yes, as much as she hated to admit it. Helping her ears? Nope. Fading hearing was better than the ear murder she would have been put through.
"Did Kaz finish disarming the bombs?" Mithril asked, changing the subject. A bit of a stupid question, really, because the spartan ninja wouldn't have come to her rescue otherwise. But no one ever said she was smart, and none had said it of Orange neither, so the boy nodded in answer.
"Yep," he reported cheerfully. "There was a scary moment when I pushed too much with the magic, but she finished disarming it before it could explode." Mithril whistled. That was a worthy skill from someone who would someday be a key member of her heroic empire.
Kaz herself was standing atop a hogtied Genevieve, inspecting her captive's scythe with avid interest. "There's Yul berry poison on the blade," she murmured. Mithril had a strong suspicion that she would be seeing the scythe again, next time in the dangerous woman's hands.
"Wow, Kaz. You've got her hands totally tied," Natalie noted, running over. No one knew whether she was speaking literally or figuratively given that both would be accurate, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that Genevieve had been defeated (Mithril later defended her own strength by saying that Kaz took the woman by surprise and that Mithril had been toying with her the whole time) and the bombs were down. They could continue on the next leg of their journey without incident- but it would be a good idea to get their rest before leaving.
(But Kaz was adamant in assigning a watch schedule of the boat. No one dared to go against her, and their alertness during their turns was only partially out of real defense against anyone sent by The Boss- most of it was fear of Kaz. Nothing new there.)
Wind rushed past Grisseo's face as he plummeted toward the ground. The sands below looked so inviting. He wondered briefly what would happen if he fell all the way down. Would the sand cushion him? Grisseo's consciousness faded as he was mesmerized by the winding patterns of the sand.
Lapis heard a thunk! sound behind him, almost like something had been hit. He looked back and saw that Grisseo was falling down!
"Yikes!" he exclaimed before diving down to catch him.
As Lapis dove down, he noticed the enthralling patterns in the sand. They were moving, almost like they were alive, and... they looked vaguely familiar... but his eyelids were growing heavy, and before he could ponder upon it more, he fell unconscious.
"PLEH! PEH! FPEH!" Lapis gasped, spitting out sand. "PEH! Disgusting sand! PLEH!"
He felt a slight tugging at his shoe, and immediately kicked out.
"AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaah..." Grisseo was sent flying from Lapis's swift kick.
"Oops," Lapis said, running off to where he had kicked Grisseo.
"Oi!" he said when he reached where Grisseo had fallen. "Are ya all right?"
His answer? Sand spit into his face.
"PFEH! PLEH!" Grisseo gasped. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
"WHADDAYA MEAN, 'WHAT WAZZAT FOR?!' YA SURPRISED ME!" Lapis shouted.
"I JUST WANTED TO ASK WHY I SUDDENLY FELL ASLEEP!" Grisseo shouted back.
"I DUNNO!" Lapis hollered.
"It's the Sands of Stupefication," a new voice interrupted. "The eighth Wonder of the world."
Lapis and Grisseo turned and saw a Krookodile.
"YIKES!" Lapis shouted as he reflexively spun around and chopped.
The Krookodile hopped to the side. "That wasn't very nice. I was just trying to help you."
"Who're you?" Lapis asked, putting a hand to his pocket.
"Who cares who he is? ATTACK!" Grisseo shouted, leaping at the croc.
Krookodile swatted him away. "Just a Krookodile, looking for a favor."
Lapis eyed him suspiciously. "What kind of favor?"
"WHO CARES?! HE ATTACKED ME! ATTACK!" Grisseo shouted, jumping up from beneath the sands.
"SHUDDUP!" Lapis yelled, punching Grisseo away. "Anyhoo, now dat we've got da nuisance outta da way, what kinda favor were ya lookin' for? We might be able ta help ya out."
"Right. My request for you is to kill someone."
OMAKE
Genevieve smirked and dragged her scythe in a light cut against Mithril's neck, and the girl froze. She was going to die. Wow. What a short life. She had accomplished much, of course, but her heroic empire had just gotten started. It was a pity she wouldn't live to see her efforts come to fruition. Natalie would have to take control and carry on her dream for her. But really, what a sad way to die. She had always dreamed that she would go down fighting with her army at her back and an overwhelming number of enemies at her front, not from poison.
Wait...
"It doesn't hurt?" she mumbled confusedly, raising an arm to test it. She could move just fine. She stood up with a grin, bonked her head on the crate above her with a frown, and shooed Genevieve out of the makeshift entrance with her sword.
Genevieve facepalmed. She'd forgotten- the poison acted on the brain!
(A/N: And that's the update. Almost 7000 words, excluding the author notes. I hope you enjoyed it!)