Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

This is a place to post and share and promote your own original creative works, such as films, digital and physical art, as well as short stories and novels.
Post Reply
User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Prologue: The Greatest of All.
In the center of the walled city of Tu-Voc lay a compound guarded by hundreds of security cameras and automated machines over a dozen meters tall. Not a single form of life got within fifteen meters of the compound without being found out, even one so small as a fly. No birds flew in the air above the compound, no worms dug in the earth, no snakes or frogs or vermin rustle through the grass. Any forms of life that were identified and refused to properly identify itself was gunned down on the spot, and only those with the highest of clearance could enter in.

Within the compound, safeguarded by state of the art weapons and technology few outside of the Holy Knights could even dream of existing, a regal figure sat alone in a dimly lit room. He was young, no older than a quarter of a century, and adorned in a golden crown upon his head. His body was well toned and veiled behind a black leathery suit that was itself adorned with nine badges and medals on it. A goblet was in his left hand, and in his right, a chain that anchored down the dozen scantily dressed women who sat on their hands and knees around him.

The man raised a finger on his left hand, and the woman nearest to the golden plated doors rose from her position and pried them open.

Another woman walked in, with little that covered her and no hair on her head like the others. In her arms was a metallic box with a screen, and she set the box down facing the young man. She placed a hand on the top, and the screen came to life. The figure within was obscured by shadows, but the young man's eyes twitched at the sight of it.

“So Jettro will not speak to me himself, but his hand maiden will.” The young man lowered his head. The servants with him bowed as well. “I apologize that the taxes owed to him are delayed, but I need just a little more time-”

“They are more than delayed, they are a full month late.” The figure responded. Their voice was warbled, distorted by the device used to communicate, but there was a hint of a female tone to it. “And Jettro tires of your excuses. Be thankful he has taken a liking to you at all, Vioran, or he would be meeting you in person. He suspects you are holding them for yourself to indulge in, and you better hope that is not the case. Your time in the academy has rewarded you with this city, and Jettro can rip it from you just as he bestowed it to you.”

Vioran gritted his teeth. “The money from the people will be sent to him in four day's time. Believe me wench, were it up to me Jettro would already have his money!”

“That is no way to speak to someone above you, Vioran.” The figure shook their head. “I'll have to inform His Majesty of your tone and lying nature.” The figure paused, and Vioran began to speak, but he was cut off. “And how exactly is Tu-Voc? The last Jettro was informed, the city was rather restless...”

“Nothing of note. The resistance cells who were leading the revolts have been found and silenced, thanks to Dorn's efforts.” Vioran let himself smile. “The young man has proven himself to be valuable, a true spokesman for my efforts.”

“Yes, you spoke of him before... The Holy Knight supporter. He is indeed a special case. The rare link between the plebeian and the elite. He certainly does help with your public appearance.”

“What can I say? People love a people person, and mingling with the crowds and with a supporter keeps people happy.”

“Not happy enough, if there are rebel cells.” The figure clasped their hands together and leaned forward. “If you are implying that they are the reason no payment has come to Jettro-”

“They are! I swear, they've been attacking the banks and draining funding!” Vioran snapped as he rose to his feet. He yanked the chain in his right hand, and the women around him gasped for air as they were dragged up. “I'm doing what I can, but they're a persistent thorn in my side! Dorn's helped keep their activities down, but now they've gone from quantity to quality with their efforts!”

“Then you are failing at being a proper Holy Knight.” The figure adjusted themselves in their seat. “Find these rebels, and crush them utterly, even if you must destroy your public image to do so. A Holy Knight stands above all else, and anyone who stands against us is the enemy and will not be spared. Your placid appearance has let them foster and grow.”

“As if there aren't any in the capital!”

“There are not. Jettro and Prateria have made certain of that. No inhumans, no dissenters, only the rule of the powerful and just. If that is what is needed in your city, then a change in tactics is advised. The next time we speak, Jettro's payment is due, and if not that, then either the head of the rebel cells or another sacrifice. Vioran, Jettro's favor with you is running dry, and the clock is ticking.”

The screen died out, and Vioran turned away from it and shouted. “Fuck that dick sucking bitch! She's like a wretched nanny observing my every footfall! Jettro will get his goddamn money, and I won't have to hear from her again once I give it to him!”

“But, Lord Vioran-”

The Holy Knight official turned in an instant and brought the goblet in his hand down upon the servant who had spoken. The girl crumpled to the ground, her head split open and blood dripping from the wound. Vioran screamed again and brought a foot down upon her neck. The rest of the women stared on in silence, their eyes lifeless and unemotive.

“DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT!”

When he stepped away from the carcass, the head had been completely severed from the body, with the neck little more than broken shards of bone that stuck out of skin.

“Take this body away! Give it to the scientists to make use of” He commanded. One of the women came to the body and picked it up, while another grabbed the head. The two of the then turned and left the room. As they left, the chains that were attached to their necks lengthened out.

Vioran fell back into his chair and struck the arm rest. The blow dented the plastic the chair was made of. He needed an answer, and fast. Otherwise, it was going to be his head on a pike in Jettro's palace. He was the greatest student of the academy in the past five years, the greatest of all! He had beaten out the rest of the competition, and the only rivals he had were no longer around, he had made sure of that! Finally, finally he had a city of his own to rule over, to govern and control, and not even a year into his rule, for Jettro to threaten to take it all away, and strip him of his title and powers...

He needed to find these rebels, and fast. But where to even begin? Tu-Voc was a city that spanned dozens of miles and held over twelve million people. The Enforcers under his command could search large swaths of land, but not everywhere at once. And these rebels were smart. They could simply relocate if he tried looking in the wrong area, or didn't strike fast enough. But where... Where to even begin? What would be an ideal place for them to hide themselves at...?

“A map. Bring me a map of the city.” Vioran commanded. One of the women rose and walked out of the room. The chain that was on her neck lengthened as well, until it stopped. Then, it began to recede, and she walked back in with a scroll. She laid the scroll out before Vioran, and a map of the city was laid bare to him.

“Thank you.” he muttered. “Now... were I a rebel leader trying to evade detection, where would I hide?” He leaned in close to observe the map. He could ask Dorn for advice, but that would likely raise suspicion. He wanted to maintain a good appearance for just a little longer. There was the Eures River that ran through the city, the Museum of the Ancients, the Enforcer Complex, the cafe a block down from the museum, the brothel-

His eyes focused back on the cafe. Yes... The cafe... The one that had opened up not but a few months prior. What a coincidence... and if memory served him well, the person who ran it was-

Vioran burst into laughter, a haughty loud sound as he rose back to his feet. Of course! It was the only answer that made sense! The cafe! A meeting grounds for all manners of people, and the perfect spot for vermin to gather.

Tomorrow, he was going to pay a visit to this cafe...
Last edited by Giratina93 on Tue Dec 29, 2020 9:04 am, edited 1 time in total.
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Re: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Chapter 1: Goddess of the Cafe
The morning rays of the sun gleamed down through the partially opened blinds and shone upon Molly's face. She stirred and buried her head into her pillow. The light was painful, even with her eyelids to block it partially. Just a little bit more sleep, the cafe would wait...

The cafe!

Molly sat up straight in her bed. Her eyes stung to keep open, but she shook herself fully awake. What time even was it? For the lights to be up so high...

She glanced over at the clock at the head of the bed. 7:15, the time read. She rubbed her eyes to make sure she was reading it properly. No, the time remained the same. She had slept in half an hour. She pulled herself out of bed and raced over to her drawers. With a clean selection of clothes at hand, she turned and booked it into the bathroom.

Once there, she turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her short golden hair was a tangled matted mess, and there was crust in her eyes. Her pajamas had somehow become unbuttoned in her sleep so her pale yellow pants dragged at her ankles, leaving only her opened shirt fully on.

Unpresentable. She was supposed to be at the cafe in less than an hour, and she looked more like a walking corpse than a young woman. Her azure eyes looked down to her waist, and a thought crossed her mind.

Had she... grown? Her shirt was riding higher than it usually was, leaving her stomach exposed. She let out a long pained sigh as she took off her pajamas and her underwear before she turned on the hot water in the shower and stepped in. If the others figured out she had grown a bit, that she had experienced a late growth spurt...

Once the sweat and grime was washed away and she had properly cleaned herself, she dried herself off and put on the fresh clothes for the day: A pale blue shirt and shorts. As she tugged the shorts up, she felt them constrict and tighten around her legs and rear. She had indeed grown, and that fact only made Molly wince mentally. She didn't want to go out and buy new clothes, not now...

Once she was dressed, she raced down the stairs and toward the door to leave-

“Good morning, mistress!”

Molly froze with one hand on the door and her left foot in a shoe. That voice... She knew that subdued tone could be no one else. Her head craned to the left, toward the living room, and her heart and jaw began to slip down. “What... What is...”

There were two people seated at the table in her living room. Both were notably shorter than her, and both were also young women. The one who had greeted her had a head that looked too big for her otherwise short and stout body, and looked all the more like a gnome than an actual person. Her hair was teal in color, and she was dressed in a black and white maid outfit, the same as the person across from her. However, unlike the other woman, her hands and feet weren't bound and tied together. “Pardon me, Mistress. I had no intention of greeting you so early in this way, but I noticed this vandal making a beeline for your house last night and-”

“Last night?!” Molly stared at the two women. Her face had started to brighten red. “Delilah, you've been here, with Doris, keeping an eye on her the entire night?! Why didn't you tell me?!”

“You were sound asleep by the time I caught up with Doris.” Delilah explained. Her voice was low and soft, which betrayed her physical appearance. “ She had just started to strip you of your pajamas when I subdued her and dragged her back down. So as to not create a scene and risk drawing unwanted attention, we stayed here, and I didn't want to scare you.”

The tied up girl, Doris, shook her head. “No no no.” She was quick to claim, her voice masked in a thick heavy accent. Her eyes closed as she began to rock back and forth in the chair she was tied to, and drool began to drip out of the sides of her mouth “Goddess skinship Doris needs! Goddess rear bosom ample feel supple. Fitting only loyal de-”

“T-t-thank you Delilah for stopping her.” Molly turned to the shorter of the two women and bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“I only did what was the right choice in the matter. And someone needs to keep this lecher on her leash.”

“Love leash breaks all! Love goddess contain cannot!” The rocking of the chair only intensified, and before Delilah and Molly's eyes Doris's binds snapped open. The girl rolled away from her chair and stood straight up, a mischievous smirk on her face as she licked the drool away. Her long brown braided hair was wrapped around her neck, and she pushed her glasses up higher on the ridge of her nose. “Power no stop me able!”

___________________________________

“Pain... Pain power stop only...” Doris rubbed the top of her forehead, where a large newly form bruise nested. She turned to Delilah. “Crime hurt Goddess devotee...”

“It is also a crime to sneak into someone's home and into their bed. At least, officially it is.” Delilah's eyes burned into Doris, causing the taller girl to wince away from her. “A crime punishable by death, were the law enforcement those who actually cared.”

Behind the two, Molly could only turn her head to the side and away from the argument. It felt like every day for her that Doris found her way into her bedroom. Ever since she had opened the cafe five months prior, Doris had refused to relent in her bed sharing antics. The first time it had happened, Molly had threatened to fire the girl on the spot, but she couldn't bring herself to go through with it. When her warnings were ignored, she had tried to take it to the Holy Knight authorities, but they had simply laughed her off and shoo'd her away. As it was, Delilah was a lifesaver in keeping the woman in check, but she could only be in so many places at once, and she couldn't play bodyguard to Molly when she had her own home to be at and her own bills to pay.

“Molly!” A soft voice called to her. The woman stopped in her tracks and turned in the direction of the voice. She had been so caught in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed they were passing by the Tu-Voc Educational Center. The voice had come from the opened doorways of the four story Educational Center, and she ran down the sidewalk to where Molly, Doris and Delilah were. The latter two, too caught up in their argument, continued on to the cafe, which was a block further down from the Educational Center. “Are you going to open up the cafe?” The little girl asked.

Molly forced herself to smile, and knelt down to eye level with the girl. “Of course I am! That's my job, Cuillin.” She reached a hand over to the girl's short violet hair and ruffled it. It felt smooth to her and silky, and very soft. “ Shouldn't you be getting ready for classes?”

“Classes are canceled.” The little girl, Cuillin, said with a smile. “Apparently there was an accent-”

“You mean accident.” A young boy walked up behind her. He was half a head taller than her, with short silver hair and lime colored eyes. Unlike Cuillin, who had on a long plaid skirt and vest, he wore a simple pair of ratted shorts and a button up shirt. “ The Praetorian won't tell us what happened, but given it reeks of copper in there, someone got hurt. Our instructor was also waiting inside to tell us to turn around.”

“Well, hopefully everything is okay...” Molly felt her heart drop a little. If something serious was happening in a place like this, so close to her home and to her work, that could mean that Delilah and the others could be in danger as well. “Was it a break in or...”

“We don't know.” Cuillin was quick to say. “But we'll be infract-”

“Instructed.” The boy corrected her. Cuillin puffed her cheeks up and turned to look away from him.

“Stupid nit-picky Ful. It's crude-”

“Rude.”

“Stop it!” Cuillin puffed her cheeks further and began to hit Ful on the shoulder. “Stop it stop it stop it! Or do you really want me to hurt you?!”

That silenced the boy, who adjusted his glasses and stepped back. “I'll shut up.” He finally admitted.

With her cheeks deflating, Cuillin turned back to Molly. “We'll be instructed later on. For now, we get to just hang out. We'll let Father know once we're done hanging out at the cafe! He might know. But otherwise, we're just to stay caulk”

“CALM.” Ful injected, but this time he was ready and caught Cuillin's balled up fists. “I'm not going to let that malapropism slip. That one, I cannot.”

Cuillin pulled her hand back with a “hmmph.” She turned back to Molly, her pale red eyes fixated on the older woman. “Let's go together, okay? Nothing brightens up the day like a cup of powder!”

“Cho-” Ful began, but she stopped as Cuillin turned to glare at him.

Molly let out a low laugh. “Sure, sure. I'll tell the girls to prepare you the usual. It'll be on the house.” She turned and resumed her walk toward the cafe, with the nine year old girl and ten year old boy with her. She almost felt like an older sister to them. With how busy their father was with work, it was usually just the two of them at their house in the hours after they returned from their education. So, in the times Molly could leave the cafe early, she would babysit the children until it was time for them to sleep. She hadn't seen their father recently, but the notes he left behind made it clear he appreciated the fact she was willing to help out.

The walk down to the cafe felt shorter than Molly knew it actually was. The small building was nestled between two larger buildings, and unlike them it was a wooden structure less than two stories in height. The wood was painted over with Dark purple and lighter violet bands, and the image of a cat curled up on the branch of a tree was the logo for the cafe. Beneath the image were engraved the words “The Cheshire Cafe.” The front doors were already open, and Molly led the two kids inside.

Almost immediately, she regretted this decision.

“Where the hell have you been?!” A brown bun haired maid snapped at her. Her eyes were obscured by the tinted hick glasses she wore, but Molly didn't need to see them to realize the maid was glaring daggers at her. She stood half a head over Molly, and her left hand was balled into a fist. “Five orders, five goddamn orders from five literal nimro-”

“Heather, not now.” Molly had to whisper to her. Even so early, there were customers already seated and waiting for their orders to be given out. The tables and floors were of glistened oak, and several ornate paintings adorned the walls of the cafe. A soft song played through the building, giving a peaceful, serene aura to the cafe.

An aura that Heather was the very antithesis of.

“Why NOT now? You're supposed to get here before we open, and be the one taking orders. You came late, so Doris had to take orders, and she's weirding the customers out!” Heather pointed over to the girl in question, who stood at the cashier with a spaced out expression on her face. Her head was tilted to the side, and drool had begun to drip from her mouth. “All she's been doing is muttering about seeing you in your goddamn maid outfit!”

“I'm sorry I stopped to say hi to people, Heather, but if you didn't want Doris to greet people, then why don-”

“I don't deal with stupidity. I am staying back there in the kitchen. And now that you're here, tell Doris to relocate her lusty ass back there as well!”

Molly sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Okay Heather. Just go back there and do what you need to. Me and Delilah have everything under control now.” She raised a hand as Heather was about to speak, and closed it, and Heather took the message and turned back around to head into the kitchen, grumbling all the way. “Doris, you go back there and help cook.”

“Yes, Molly Goddess. Will do you ask.” Doris spun on her heels and whirled into the kitchen right behind Heather. As the doors closed, she could hear Heather begin yelling at Doris, but Molly drowned it out.

“Did we, come at a bad time?” Cuillin asked.

“No, No you didn't.” Molly weakly said. “I just made the mistake of upsetting Heather.”

“That hardly counts as a mistake.” Delilah poked her head from behind a table. In one hand she had a plate with sausages and pancakes, and in the other a bowl of clam chowder. She looked over at the two kids, who both were around her height. “I had a feeling Molly stopped for the two of you, so I made you your chowder in advance.”

“REALLY?” Cuillin eyed the bowl as it was set down at an empty table. She and Ful walked to the table and took their seats. There were two spoons in the large bowl. “Thank you! Thank you Debby!”

“It's Delilah, but you're welcome.” The maid gave a gentle bow with an equally gentle smile. “Please enjoy.”

“I hope that's not on the house.” Heather's voice called from the back room. “Because that shit is expensive.”

“It is, and please stop swearing. We've already gotten complaints the past week about that.”

Heather's head poked out from the kitchen. “I'll stop swearing when I get actual tips!” The door closed, and Molly took a deep breath. If only there was some way to deal with Heather's temper... So many days where she would wake up in high spirits, only for the walking vortex of negativity and anger to sap it away. She tried to not let it affect her, but it was hard to keep at it after so long.

She shifted her attention back into the cafe. Delilah had gone into the kitchen and now was walking out with several more orders of food for those who had been waiting. It was a quiet, humble scene without Heather, with so many eating their food and enjoying it. It was a small slice of paradise for Molly, a paradise she didn't think could exist anywhere else but here for her. And yet, it was a dream, a dream Molly didn't know how long would last, especially with what had happened only a block down. Things were so peaceful here...

The doors opened, and Molly turned to face them. “Good morning! Welcome to the Cheshire-”

The words caught themselves in her throat. She froze and stared at the three men who had walked in. One of them was rather scrawny in build yet an inch taller than her, with a haggard face and dis-heaved brown hair. His left eye was blackened around, and he walked in with a limp. The second man was her height, with slightly longer brown hair than the first and sharp blue eyes and lanky legs to counteract his shorter body. The third man was the tallest of the lot, over a foot higher than the others, and dressed in a black leathery suit with a silver cape that draped from his shoulders. A cigar was in his mouth, and his eyes were a light green.

But what drew Molly's attention was their clothes, and what was on them. The shortest of the three had a long green coat and a red jumper beneath it, and the middle one wore a blue and brown shirt and jeans. But on all three of them were badges and medals, and on the tallest of them were nine in total.

“Good morning to you as well.” The man gave Molly a smile. “Seating for three Pilots, I hope?”
Last edited by Giratina93 on Sat Nov 28, 2020 9:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Re: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Chapter 2: Temper
The Cheshire Cafe was no stranger to unusual guests. Many Holy Knight pilots often frequented the cafe for a bite to eat or simply to unwind and relax. While some of these people had been unsavory individuals on the job, the cafe's environment seemed to have a calming effect on most who came in. It was a place of tranquility, of peace and relaxation. Perhaps it was the music and the paintings that made even the most angry of customers calm down, or maybe it was, a thought that had come to Molly's attention from outside sources but one she insisted couldn't be the case, the fact that the servers were all attractive young women.

With those customers, however, came hints and pieces of their normal lives as Holy Knights. The latest bounty out for grabs, rivalries between pilots, and the latest excursion gone wrong were all things Molly often overheard. But if there was one thing that came up the most, it was discussion of the Head Pilot of the city: Vioran. A man who's public appearances were few and far between, yet the image when he did appear was of a soft spoken gentlemen with an odd taste in company. What many pilots had said of the man behind his back, however, was of a mixture of fear and respect. That he was short-tempered and prone to violent outbursts, that he skimmed taxes for his own benefits and treated those who he felt wronged him as worse than dirt. One such Holy Knight member, a teenage boy with a bloated right half of his face, had spoken of him only once he had drank himself into a slump off of the grape lemonade served at the cafe, and what he spoke of was a handsome man whose looks betrayed the devil within until it was too late, that his green eyes were like poison to the mind.

Those eyes beamed down at Molly with a smile that the cafe owner trembled under. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a comb, a black one that was long and thinly built, and ran it through his hair. “You must be the owner, Molly Chance. I heard so much about the hospitality and food of this cafe, and I simply had to come here to try it myself.”

“I heard there were pretty girls,” The middle man with a limp said. “Perfect eye candy to rest my vision on, and good food for the stomach.” He leaned in closer to Molly. “And how old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

Molly's fear found itself accompanied by a new emotion as her face turned red: Embarrassment. “N-n-n-no! I'm twenty three! I just look rather young but-”

“Ignore Vicks.” The shortest of the three men pushed the black eyed one playfully. “His mind rests in the gutter. No, he owns it.” He ignored the glare that came from Vicks and laughed. “But yes, we heard this place had some of the best food in town and a soothing atmosphere. You should feel honored to be visited by the finest Knight in the city and his biggest supporter.”

“And where does that leave me? I'm also a top tier-”

“You're only top tier in your dreams. Your physical physique makes sure of that.” Vioran turned to reprimand him. He reshifted his focus back to Molly. “But, our seating, please?”

Molly, heart skipping several beats and stuck in her throat, took three menus and walked into the dining room. The three men followed her, and as they passed by the two kids, Molly could see Cuillin tense up at the sight of the pilots, while Ful kept his head low to avoid detection. “R-right this way, sirs. T-t-there's a t-t-table f-f-far in the b-b-b-”

“Why not right here?” Vioran stopped at a table right next to where the two kids where. “Yes the back is secluded and quiet, but this is closer to the kitchen doors. Our food will travel less distance, and won't get so cold as fast. And besides, Dorn loves children.”

“I mean, I get along well with kids. We kinda have a way of connecting.” The shortest man, Dorn, reached a hand over to Cuillin to pet her, but the girl slapped his hand away. He stepped back, a confused look on his face. “Well, most do.”

“Don't touch!” Cuillin huffed. There was a sternness in her eyes, a barely veiled hatred kept only beneath the surface by her will, a hostility that was not lost to everyone else present. “Don't touch either me or Ful. Or I'll drink you!”

“Sorry sorry.” Dorn found himself a seat at the adjacent table as far from the kids as possible before he seated himself. “I guess I should have asked first.”

“Yes, that is the polite thing to do.” Molly handed the three men menus, but was surprised as each of them pushed the menus back toward her. “O-oh, do you already know what you want to order?”

“Naturally.” Vioran looked over to Dorn and Vicks, who both nodded, before he turned his attention back to Molly. He rested his head on his left hand. “All three of us will be drinking a Poltic Ale, and I'll have the Mushroom Steak Burger.”

Vicks tapped his fingers together. “The Veggie Dumplings, hold the spinach and tomatoes.”

“And a Grilled Ottuic Ham sandwich, but the Ottuic slices must be paper thin and see through.”

“Y-yes but...” Molly looked up from her note pad. “Why paper thin, may I ask?”

Dorn's gaze seemed to focus further on Molly. “Because any thicker than that, and my stomach has problems digesting it. I love the taste, but the meat itself is problematic for me. Hence, super thin slices.”

“I-i understand.” Molly took the menus she had been handed and walked off to return them back to under the counter. They had never been here before, and yet they were familiar enough with the menu to order from it without looking. Did they have friends that came in here and told them of what was offered? Maybe one of them had come here, without her remembering...

She bent over to put the menus away, when she heard a whistle come from back at the table.

“DAAAAMN girl, you looking fine with that ass!”

Almost instinctively she grabbed at the back of her work skirt, only to realize as her hands ran through the fabric that instead she was wearing shorts and not a skirt.

“Well conditioned! The girl's smart enough to be self aware!” Vicks voice carried out over his shrill laughter. Molly turned, her face pumped red with blood, and stood up straight. “I love doing that! It never gets old boys!”

Molly's face only burned redder. This sort of harassment was nothing new to her, as having Doris as a friend proved, but Doris, for her incredibly troubled personality, at least had enough conscious mercy to do her actions in private and not embarrass Molly in public. But this man, this Holy Knight official, had no such qualms or problems doing as such in broad daylight before other customers. Indeed, the rest of the customers, mostly men but one or two women as well, stared at her with looks that bordered between interest and envy. She felt the need to curl up into a ball, to run out of the restaurant then and there and hide beneath the covers of her own bed.

A sharp SMACK cut through the atmosphere of the room. The tallest of the three men, Vioran, glared down at Vicks with an unblinking stare, as he slowly brought his gloved right hand back under the table. “Have you forgotten this is supposed to be a family dining area? I won't judge you for your mannerisms and behavior in private, but have some respect for the young lady and for others in public.”

“It was... just a joke.” Vicks rubbed the left side of his face, but he winced as his own hands touched the growing welt left behind. “Something to lighten up the place.”

“That's what the music and atmosphere is for.” Dorn likewise chastised him. “If we wanted your brand of humor, we would go to a brothel. Does this look like a brothel to you?”

“Well, given how the other workers loo-”

Vioran's glare silenced Vick. The shorter man went quiet, and looked down at the table, away from the eyes of the larger Holy Knight official. Vioran looked up at Molly. “I won't ask you to forgive him for his actions. He was clearly in the wrong to have done so, and his actions paint a negative picture of how we as Holy Knights are. Once we leave, I will be sure to punish him accordingly. You have my word.”

Molly didn't say anything. She couldn't look him in the face. Instead, she turned her head and looked past him. He certainly seemed to be a gentleman, and of better nature than his friend, but the rumors she had heard, the stories of him, they gnawed at the back of her mind, a constant reminder that what she saw was but a mask, a facade, a face not to trust. Cuillin and Ful likewise had their attention away from what was going on, and were focused entirely on their food. Molly couldn't blame them. If she were a child like them, she would have wanted nothing to do with any of this.

“Now then...” Vioran had turned his attention away from Molly and back to Dorn. His stern face softened as he once more laid his head to rest on his left hand. “We were discussing how to officially recognize you for your contributions to our cause. Dorn, for not being a pilot, you have done more good for us than many that have served under me.”

“It's nothing really.” Dorn laughed. “I just happen to do what I can. Someone has to make sure all the Enforcers and Prowlers are in perfect working order and not sabotaged.”

“Not only that, but raising public awareness of the inner corruption of our lesser pilots and possible demihumans among us. If such vile monsters were to sneak into our society, it would be a calamity in the making. You've routed out many who came into here pretending to be human and helped keep our people safe. A parade in your honor is the least we can do.”

“No, I don't need the attention of a parade.” Dorn looked around. The rest of the customers had mostly resumed their own business, but a few did seem to speak of him and whisper about them. They recognized his name, and he felt a smile creep on his face. “ Anything to help a dear friend and our protectors with their jobs.”

“Now, if only we could throw out the corruptible weed beside us.” Vioran looked at Vicks, and the shorter man's face turned into a soured look of disgust as Vioran and Dorn laughed amongst themselves.

“Oh ha ha.” He spat. “At least I don't go around-” His statement was cut short by the return of Vioran's glare, and Vicks shrunk back into his seat.

“If you wanted to compare me to Prateria, then even me at my worst is still an angel compared to her at her best.” Vioran scooted his chair in, his arms folded over one another. “And you should know why, better than anyone.”

Molly couldn't help but watch on, yet she noticed that even as Vioran spoke, his eyes darted around the room, but only for the briefest of moments. Was he... looking for something? Whenever his eyes darted to her, she felt the need to shrink away.

“Miss Chance, that locked door on the other side of the counter... What is behind there?”

“T-t-the locked door? T-that le-leads down to the cellar!” She stammered out. Her words fumbled over each other as she struggled to keep herself coherent. “Tha-that's been locked even since w-we opened. I don't even know what's down there. The key's been lost for months.”

“Interesting...” Vioran purred. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but his eyes shifted focus once more. This time it was Delilah who came out of the kitchen. In one hand, she had a plate with the three ales the men had requested, and in the other was a large plate with three smaller plates, all three of which had small salads with various fruits mixed in. The first plate had a large burger on it with a slab of steak drench in sauce in the middle. The second plate had nine white round mushroom like dumplings covered in a lighter, less viscous fluid, and the last plate had a sandwich with golden trimmed meat so thin, Molly could see through them from where they were. “Here are your orders.” The short girl said as she first lowered the plate with the drinks down onto the table, then with her freed hand began to serve each of the men their orders.

Both Vioran and Vicks took their plates at once and gave Delilah a simple smile and a bow. Dorn took his plate as well, but as Delilah turned to leave, he coughed into his elbow. “E-excuse me ma'am, but I requested the meat to be made as thin as possible.”

Delilah turned on her heels, a confused expression on her face. “Was it not cut as thin as you requested? Was it cut too thin?”

“It is not thin enough.” Dorn lifted the bun and pulled up a slice of the golden tinged meat. “My stomach cannot handle it this thick, so can you please have your chefs back there make it half as thick? It would be much preferred for my well being.”

Delilah let out a painful sigh as she picked up the plate. “I really don't want to go back in there and report this, but if you insist-”

“I do. I cannot eat that sandwich as it is.”

Delilah looked over at Molly, and Molly felt her gut churn. She knew was what going to happen, and all she could do was brace herself. As Delilah walked back into the kitchen, Molly stepped next to Dorn. “I'm terribly sorry for what is about to happen. Please forgive me.”

Vioran looked up at her with a curious gaze. “I don't believe I under-”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT SLICED THINLY ENOUGH?!”

The voice tore through the entire cafe. Everyone stopped and all eyes focused toward the source of the voice, the entrance to the kitchen. The doors to the kitchen part, and a living maelstrom of hatred and anger in the form of Heather stormed out of the kitchen and toward the table where the three men were. Veins showed across her balled fists, and her teeth were grinded together as any semblance of pleasantries and politeness were smothered beneath her rage.

“Heather, you could just ask Doris to cut the meat for you-”

“YOU, STAY OUT OF THIS!” Heather pushed Molly to the side as she stopped just short of the table. Her eyes scanned the three men, until they locked on the one man who didn't have a plate. “The thinness you want is impossible! Any thinner, and the meat gets shredded! Is that what you want? Shredded meat like some demented mouse?”

Dorn rose from his seat and stared up at Heather. She was only taller than him by a few inches, and that was with the heels she wore. “I explained to your server that I cannot process meat that thick. Other establishments are able to accommodate my request, so why not here?”

“Because it cannot be fucking done!” Heather jammed a finger into his chest. “You're making up some premium bullshit because I fucking know how this meat is! We don't do goddamn impossible orders!”

“Impossible for an arrogant low skilled chef.” Dorn brushed her off and pushed her finger away. “You just lack the talent or skill needed to do more than the basics, it seems, and too much pride to let a more accomplished chef do what is needed.”

“LOW SKILLED?!” The bun haired chef snapped. “I'M NOT SOME SHITTY ASS CRAP COOK! HOW MANY CRACK POTS HAVE YOU EATEN, YOU LYING ASS TRIANGLE?!”

“Heather, stop.” Molly tried to put herself between the two. She took in a deep breath and stared at Heather.“I'm telling you, go back into the kitchen and-”

“NOT WITH THIS BITCH ASS SQUARE SPEWING BULLSHIT FROM THEIR MOUTH!” Once more Molly found herself pushed aside. Heather grabbed Dorn by his collar and lifted him up to eye level with her. “GO AHEAD, TELL ME THE MEAT IS TOO THIN NOW. YOU STUPID OVERHYPED WATER SEXING WHO-”

A hand gripped hers, and at once Heather let go of Dorn. She fell on her knees and winced as Vioran's grip tightened around hers. “That, is enough.” He stated plainly. There was no joy in his voice, no playfulness, no hint of any emotion. But the glare that was cast down onto Heather was filled with an intensity that conveyed everything he thought of the situation. “Assaulting a guest of a Holy Knight officer is a capital offense. Would you be so kind as to give him an apology?”

If he or Molly expected Heather to comply, what they got instead was the opposite. Despite the pressure, she rose back to her feet, and brought her free arm back.

“Heather, stop! DON'T!”

“BITE ME, Stick.” She snarled, as she sent her free hand straight at Vioran's face. The fist connected, and the Holy Knight official's head was pushed back from the blow. All went silent in the Cafe, all eyes transfixed in horror at the sight that had unfolded. Molly held her hands to her mouth, and felt her heart slow to a stop.

What... What had Heather done...

Heather sneered, but that sneer died as Vioran's head turned back to glare at her. There was no bruise, no mark of contact where the fist had landed.

“Assaulting a Holy Knight pilot, that is a capital offense as well.”

Pain erupted all over Heather's body. The woman collapsed in a heap upon Vioran's knee, which he shook her off of. Heather landed on her back, her hands gripped tightly around her stomach and drool dripping from her opened mouth. Weak groans escaped from her mouth as she tried to rise back to her feet, but collapsed onto her side.

Molly was frozen in fear. Her eyes couldn't leave the sight of Heather's broken body, not even as Vioran focused his attention onto her.

“Miss Chance, I can tell you are an honest, kind woman who wishes to make everyone happy. You do not hide the truth, but speak it plainly. You fear for your own life, but not to the point of compromising who you are. Those are admirable traits in a human. It is only because of your own hospitality and kindness that I spare giving your employee what she deserves. However, her coarse nature and temperament cannot be overlooked in light of her assaulting both my guest and myself.”

“W-what do you...” Molly struggled to ask. She took a step back in fear, but Vioran was on her in one step himself. He towered above her, and his eyes seemed to fill her vision.

“A formal apology, from your employee. Tomorrow, we will return for an apology from her. If she refuses to comply, she will be treated as a threat and a traitor to our society, and executed.” He turned to the other two men, and gestured to them with a flick of his left hand. Both Dorn and Vicks rose. “Because of the hostility from your cook, we will not pay for our meals and will leave them untouched. We expected better from such a well renowned locale, but I see that my own choice of friends is not the most damning thing present. It is yours.”

Molly could only watch on, words failing to reach her mouth, as the three men walked out of the cafe. Vioran however stopped, and turned back to Molly. “Tomorrow, at opening time. Make sure no one else is present but you and your staff. Failure to comply will be treated as such.”

With that, Vioran left, and the cafe's silence remained. Customers began to rise up and leave, asking for their bills and boxes to go early. Soon, it was only Molly, the two children, and the rest of the staff that stood in the cafe.
Last edited by Giratina93 on Mon Dec 28, 2020 10:43 am, edited 2 times in total.
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Re: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Chapter 3: Aftermath

“Mistress, can I get you some tea? Your forehead is burning.”

Molly looked over at Delilah. “I... yes, tea would be nice. If it could calm my nerves, that would be appreciated. I just don't think it will. I doubt anything would.”

“Stupid Heather.” Doris curled her hand into a fist. “Caused this all she did. Temper Holy Knight against idea bad!”

“Yes, keep calling me stupid, that's going to solve all our problems! I'm stupid for not trying to appease to an impossible request!”

Molly held up a hand to the waitress. “Please, no yelling, no insults. Not right now. I- I can't stand it.”

Heather crossed her arms together and sighed. “Fine, I'll play nice... For all the good that will do.”

It had been three hours since Vioran and his friends had left the Cheshire Cafe. The moment the Holy Knight officials had left, Molly had gone to make sure that Heather was okay, but the damage had already been done. Any attempt to stand had left Heather screaming and howling in pain as she collapsed back onto her hands and knees. Vioran's knee to the stomach had left some lasting impact on the girl, some crippling blow that robbed her of her stability. For an entire hour past that, it had been nothing but a stream of profanities and curses that had come from Heather's mouth, but even that anger had its limits, and eventually the swears had turned into crying, like an infant robbed of a nipple to suckle on. To see her reduced to such a state was unnerving to Molly, alien even. Barely contained anger was Heather's usual state, and in the rare cases she wasn't angry or hateful at someone or something, she could be a genuinely pleasant person to be around. Heather reduced to tears and begging for help was something else entirely, and any resentment Molly had to her worker over what she had done had been replaced with pity. Thankfully, Doris had known of an old medicinal remedy to at least alleviate the pain, so the worst had passed for Heather at this point.

The bigger concern now was the state of the cafe. Everyone who had been enjoying their food had left the moment Vioran had made his demand. It was worst case scenario for the cafe owner, as any place that had offended a Holy Knight official or was looked down upon by them was a dead zone. While Heather had been recovering, Molly had tried to bring in more people to eat at the cafe, but everyone had avoided her. No one dared make eye contact with her and everyone avoided the section of street the cafe was on like their life depended on it. She had heard the few people who had passed by whisper and gossip of what had happened, that someone had been so brazen and stupid as to assault a Holy Knight official, and now the restaurant was condemned unless the offender publicly apologized to him. When that realization hit Molly, the entire mood of the staff had sunk with her. Now the restaurant was closed, and it took everything for Molly to not break down and begin crying herself.

“I still cannot believe word of mouth has spread so quickly, to where everyone is avoiding us.” Delilah looked over at Molly. “That Dorn person, isn't he usually their mouthpiece? He must have gone around and told everyone already. I wouldn't be surprised if it was already on the news.”

“Of course it is.” Heather spat. She tried to rise from her seat but fell back in from the sharp pain. “Everything they want to say is on the news, but never the stuff they don't like. Only show the fact I attacked the guy, not that he was pressing my buttons.”

Cuillin peered into the kitchen from behind the double doors. “But that is your fawn. Other people don't control what you do, only you do. Lack of self-compare is your problem, ma'am.”

Heather's head turned to where the child had poked her head from, and Molly could see her eyes begin to bulge from their sockets. “MA'AM?! DO I LOOK LIKE A MA- URRRGH!”

“Kid right is.” Doris leaned forward on her chair so it stood on two legs. Then she began to rock it to the sides while leaning back and forth so it teetered in a circular motion. “Apologize need you to. Fault yours is, baited you let get. Played hand into, intention theirs likely.”

The realization hit Molly. Doris was right, this had to be intended. The fact they knew the menu without ever being there prior had been a red flag, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now it made too much sense. They had done their homework on the Cheshire Cafe and the staff and personnel who ran it. Vioran had known her name, and Dorn... he had intentionally picked out something that he knew would set Heather off the rails. This had been planned from the start, with Heather as their target... but why that was the case made no sense to her.

Heather was a rude, temperamental woman, but as far as Molly could tell, she also wasn't much of a social outgoing person either. Her work here at the Cheshire Cafe was her only job. She was the first person to be present, and the last one to leave. Otherwise, she mostly kept to herself. No one else really interacted with her much, so why Holy Knight officials would want to get at her...

She looked over at Heather and began to open her mouth, but the woman in question was faster to the logical conclusion than she had expected.

“No, I have no prior experience with any of those fuckers. I have no reason, no interest, nothing at all I want any association with them, and I have never met any of them at all. I've HEARD of them, yes, but I've never interacted with them, so don't go assuming this is some blackmail for some dirty thing I've done to them. And get your finger off my throat, Doris!” She angrily swatted at the girl, who leaned her chair away to avoid the swipe.

“Heartbeat frantic, pulse irregular. Lying maybe, but circumstances better explain perhaps.”

“If I'm lying, then please explain what I could have possibly done to warrant this? And if this was some desire for revenge, they could have just walked in, demanded my ass, and dragged me out, and no one would have any power to say otherwise.”

“...Maybe cheap hooker on-”

“And there goes any value your opinion has.” Heather angrily looked back at Molly and Delilah. “Ignoring the sleazy crackpot here-”

“Serious me! Being serious me!”

“IGNORING HER, this entire damn thing is a bunch of bored losers wanting to have some fun. They did their wretched little research, decided 'hey, let's piss all over the hard working girl and fuck her off', and I played into it like a goddamn fiddle. Because of course I did.”

Molly let out a long, pained sigh. “And I guess they also would know you'd have no interest in apologizing to them.”

“Fuck no.” Heather slammed her fist into the arm of the chair. “I'd rather grab a bunch of my friends and go out and ram their heads so far up their asses they'd be spewing out shit for weeks. Goddamnit, this fucking blows.”

“You need to apologize, even if that plays into their hand. Otherwise, we are all damned. What else could we do to stay alive? The cafe would be seized or completely shut down, and we would be treated as criminals, and you would die. Heather, PLEASE...”

“Oooor... cheap hooker-”

“NOT NOW, DORIS.” Heather and Delilah snapped in unison. Heather brought her hands up to her forehead and hit herself once, then twice. Her body shuddered with the weight of her decision, and she gritted her teeth.

“FINE.” Heather screamed. “FINE! FINE! FINE! I'LL FUCKING APOLOGIZE! GODS, I'LL FUCKING DO IT!”

Another sigh left Molly's mouth, but this time it was one of relief. “Thank you. I know it'll be hard for you, but it is for the best. Just apologize to them, and everything should turn out for the best.”

“Hopefully...” Delilah muttered. “I hope it will.”

“It fucking better.” Heather glared at the rest of the girls. “Or I might have to come up with a Plan B.”

“The only Plan B we have is to part ways and find different jobs, or even relocate outside the city altogether and hope for the best.” Molly rose from her seat. “But I'll think that over tonight. Delilah, can you and Doris help get Heather back home? I need to drop off Ful and Cullin back at their house.”

“Understood, Mistress.”

“As wish you, Goddess.”

“I wish I was treated so well for doing almost nothi-URRRGH!..”

Despite the groans and pains that came from Heather, the two girls lifted her up by her arms and legs and carried her out of the kitchen. Molly followed behind, and looked over at Ful, who was still seated at his table. He looked up at Molly and scooted his chair out before he stood up.

“I never expected today to be so... eventful, for worse.”

“Me neither.” Cuillin came up beside him. “We just wanted to snack and drink, but instead, you're in quite the quandary.”

“It will all work out. I know they will. You two don't need to worry about me.” She walked over to them and rubbed their heads. “Just worry about yourselves and the little things. Too many things on the mind can ruin a person. Maybe I'll play some darts or hodgeball when we get to the house? I know you love hodgeball.”

“Yes yes!” Cuillin nodded frantically. “Hodgeball is the best! I always beat Ful at it!”

“I would rather you don't remind me.”

As Cuillin laughed and slapped her brother across the back, Molly found it hard to keep a smile up front. Everything was riding on Heather's apology being enough, because otherwise the alternatives were not much better. Trying to find a job that would hire her would be an uphill task, given she was the owner of the place disowned by a Holy Knight official, and leaving the city entirely...

She bit her lower lip. All she could focus on right now was the present. She had to take her own advice, or else overthink herself into a worried frenzy...

---------------------

Being the Holy Knight Pilot in charge of the city of Tu-Voc had its advantages and disadvantages. The plus sides to such a luxurious position was that Vioran's name carried with it all the weight in the world he wanted. If something had his stamp of approval on it, or his endorsement, there was no one in the city who could argue against that. That had been the case with Dorn publicly shaming the Cheshire Cafe for his treatment. All he had to do was agree with him, and anyone who listened to Dorn was quick to follow suit and spread the word. Within but an hour, over half the city was aware of what had transpired, and that news spread like wildfire. No one was willing to speak against his testimony, and the few who had tried to argue were silenced with but a glare from Vioran. That was the other benefit, that every facet of life was to his own specific liking. The education system, the marketplaces, the laws and legislation, everything had to go through him, and if it didn't meet his expectations, he could shut it down with but a word. No one in the city could say otherwise, no one but himself held such power. All the other Holy Knights in the city, including Vicks, were all under his wing, and answered only to him. Those were only two of the many advantages offered to Vioran.

The downsides were few, but they were annoying to say the least. While his name carrying such weight to it was nice, the fact his face was so recognizable made moving from place to place without being known infuriating. He needed to obscure his face when traveling into public incognito, and even that wasn't enough without altering his voice. The trip to the cafe was a rare exception because that had been the whole point of the appearance; He had wanted everyone to know he was there for when Dorn made his accusations.

The second downside was that he did have to answer to one person and one person alone: Emperor Jettro. And Jettro's grievances weighed heavily on the official's mind as he walked back toward the compound. The cameras along the walls stared down at him and the two others, before a green light at the top of them slashed. The massive steel gate tore itself open, and the three entered in.

“I still think we should have stopped at the usual place to pick up a few diamonds in the rough.” Vicks snickered. “At least make the trip worthwhile for everyone.”

“You're just too shortsighted to see the bigger picture.” Vioran shook his head. “Though, I suppose that comes with being Prateria's lapdog. When all you see is her, all other vision falters.”

Dorn smirked as Vicks's face blushed red. “I would have imagined someone under the leash of the Emperor's daughter to have their taste in women skewed, but I guess being freed from her hasn't dulled that any bit.”

“Oh please, I've always been interested in others. She just wouldn't let me without beatings!” Vicks grumbled. “Being smuggled out by Vioran was the best thing to happen to me. I can actually do what I want without her sitting on me.”

“You mean you don't like having a hot woman crushing your head beneath her ass?” Dorn asked.

“Not when every part of my body is screaming in pain. Gimme that hot Molly chick instead. She's got a mighty fine body, a soft voice, a softer face, and she's like a sculptured goddess.”

“Wouldn't that Heather bitch be more to your liking? She seems like an animal in bed.”

“Maybe to your masochistic ass! She'd probably tear my dic-”

Vioran raised a closed hand, and both men went silent. “There's little use discussing women who will likely be dead soon. It is starting to get late, and I have a few calls I need to make. I will see you all before dawn tomorrow, or maybe later tonight if you're interested in some drinks.”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“Count me in as well. I'll see you later then, old friend.”

Both Dorn and Vicks parted ways at the doorway into the main part of the complex, and once they had both rounded the nearest corner to their rooms, Vioran opened the door and walked in. The stench of dried blood reached his nostrils, but he ignored it. Aside from that, last night's accident had been cleaned up in full, and the only evidence of anything having have happened was one missing servant. The rest were all seated in a circle around the room, and Vioran walked into the middle of it through the open gap. Perhaps that Molly woman would make a good replacement...

The lights in the room flickered, and for a moment Vioran saw that seven chairs had been assembled within the circle as well. Six of them had metallic boxes with screens on the fronts attached to the backs of the chairs. It was the last thing Vioran had wanted to see, as he knew what the meaning of this way, but he had no choice in the matter. He sat in the one chair that lacked such a structure and clapped his hands together.

“I am present.”

At once, the screens flared, and holograms of six other people filled in the seats. They were all currently in discussion with one another, as if oblivious to Vioran's presence.

“-Pede nest was a joke to crush for my Enforcers.” A balding older man with a monocle over his right eye proclaimed. He was dressed in a pitch black suit with a red tie on the front, and shoes with elongated heels at the back. “They never stood a chance. One big bug barbecue.”

“If you want a real barbecue, you should have seen the rioters at my place.” A green haired woman dressed in various rags and cloths said. “We gunned them down like rats in a bowl. It's been so damn long since I got to have that kind of fun, and man did it feel good.”

“Wanton wasting of life will get you nowhere, Salome.” A scrawny teenager, one even smaller and more of a stick than Vicks, huffed. “This is why your city of Bioruv is always in turmoil. A lesser yoke will yield better results, and keep morale high.”

Salome snorted. “And a heavier yoke will shatter their morale, leaving them as brain dead vegetables who cannot possibly think of rebelling. I just need to make that yoke heavier, Kaboc.”

The young man, Kaboc, turned his face away with a hateful glare, but that was when his eyes laid upon Vioran. “Finally the man of the hour is here, to save me from his sister.”

All eyes turned to Vioran, and though the Holy Knight official cleared his throat, it took everything he had to not just stand and leave. “My apologies for being so late. We had a few mishaps along the way.”

“Mishaps? That's not like you, younger brother.” Salome grinned. “The highest ranking pilot in the past five years of the Academy is getting sloppy? Must be all that tax evasion stress.”

“That's none of your concern, sister. Simply a lot of things have been happening. The top suspected location of the Rebel cells in my city has been dealt with, and their leaders scattered into the four winds. There have been sightings of a few harpies here and there in the city, but nothing that cannot be dealt with.”

“Awww, I was hoping your city would be caving in on itself, brother. Then I could just walk on over and seize it for myself. Four cities under my control.”

Vioran gave Salome a long, hard look. “If I didn't know any better, I would suspect you of being the catalyst, all so you can have more power. It is how you have subverted every other Outer Perimeter city you control.”

“If she is the cause of your Rebels, then you need to work harder at controlling them.” An elderly man, wrinkled and covered in a black robe, coughed up. Like the first man, he too was balding, but he looked to be thirty years his senior, yet his eyes were as sharp and focused as one half his age. “If you need advice, come visit Hibal or Zioth in your spare time. For sixty years they've been peaceful stalwards of the Empire. No demihumans, either. The ogres and mermaids that once lived near our cities have been no more for decades.”

“I would rather die than become part of those cities.” Kaboc injected, which brought a smile to the man's face. “There are no people there, only your puppets and zombies, Ziko.”

Ziko snickered. “I never said that peace was through freedom of choice or will. If you want peace, that's what you get rid of.”

”I heard there was more going on in your city than just silencing rebellions and angry people.” A large humanoid machine hissed. It more resembled a golem than a human, with rivets and overlapping armor across its body. Its voice was deep and labored. “There has been whispers in the air that one of Lady Prateria's missing pilots is under your care. Is this true?”

Vioran leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Vaboris, even if that were true, Prateria can come here herself and grab her lost property if she really wanted him back. But just for the sake of argument, no I do not have Vicks in my possession.”

Vaboris raised a hand to his mouthpiece. “Your lying game is admirable, but your eyes betray the truth. Lady Prateria will be displeased once she is made aware.”

“And will you tell her? No one likes a snitch.” Salome said.

“No, she can find out herself. I have no interest in helping her. She's the reason I am in this state. For all I care, she and her father can burn in hell.”

“That WOULD make for a fancy barbecue.” The first man said. “ But good luck with that. She's a mean piece of work. I've heard she even made Vioran here her personal-”

“Antioc, another word from you and your entire city will be digging your grave.” Vioran snarled. “Yes, Prateria bested me, but who HASN'T she bested, let's be real? That freak of nature is not normal.”

“You're one to talk.” Kaboc injected again. His eyes had bags of flesh beneath them which wrinkled as he blinked. “ You're more augmented than most pilots, you and your sister. You can do things we cannot.”

“We all can, Kaboc.” Vaboris turned to him. “You are simply the odd one out. Your body couldn't handle the augmentation process, which would have disqualified you from even being a pilot, but that's what personal favors are for.”

“No, you're wrong there.” Kaboc grinned. “Not personal favors, but hard work and determination. I had to work my way to the top, no matter the cost.”

“That cost being your precious little face.” The final person laughed. Unlike the others, their hologram was distorted, which left their features blurred out, aside from the fact they had a scythe in hand. “You look like you haven't slept in weeks, Kaboc. Has all the stress gotten to you?”

“Cial's right, you do look haggard.” Salome leaned over. “Why don't I pay a visit so you can get some shut eye?”

“I don't need your kind of help!” Kaboc shouted. “We just have some unruly neighbors to the west. A lot of giant spiders from the valleys are attacking Biul, and we're stuck in a stalemate with them.”

“If you insist you do not need the help...” Vaboris noted. “But if you ever change your mind, I can always lend a hand. My forces have finished scouring past the Iron Thorn mountains and have taken control of the Kingdom of Dugoth. The savage people have been routed and are now my citizens to educate and reform.”

“Wasn't there a princess in that kingdom who slipped past your men?” Cial teased. “She grabbed a hold of her family's ancient staff and blasted a hole past your men? Seems you're having as many problems as Vioran here-”

“I AM NOT HAVING AS HARD A TIME AS HE!” Both Vioran and Vaboris snapped at the warbled hologram at the same time. The two looked at each other, then turned away.

“At least I wasn't struck by a waitress.”

Vioran's head swerved back to face Vaboris. “H-how do you know that?! Who told you?!”

“Word travels fast, and nothing escapes my notice. To think you have fallen so far as to go after cafe's.”

Salome's face twisted into a maniacal grin. “Did he really?! Oh brother, how the mighty have fallen! What a nasty little piece of work you are, going after defenseless women. Freed of the eyes of your pears, your true colors reveal themselves.”

“Says the bitch who hordes men all for herself!”

Salome tilted her head. “Does that mean you are interested in men? I had no clue you swung that way.”

Vioran opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. His face reddened, and he looked away in disgust. “If everything that has been said is done, this meeting is adju-”

“Oh no, the real reason for this meeting was not to roast each other or compare dicks, though that is amusing.” Ziko chuckled. “We merely got sideswiped into this while waiting for you. No, the real reason is that, Jettro informed us of the ultimatum placed on you regarding the lack of payment that has gone his way. If you fail to pay him back in a few days, your control of the city as Magistrate will be relinquished, and it will be ripe for any of us to take over.”

Now Vioran's face turned into a blistering red hue. H-he had had the GALL to tell the other Magistrates of what his bed maiden had threatened him with?! While his own rumored tax skimming was no secret to the others, the fact such information of the ultimatum had been made public to the others shocked him. He rose from his seat. “Not a single damn one of you is getting my city! I own Tu-Voc, and Jettro will get his money or compensation for such!”

“Maybe he will, and maybe he won't.” Cial swung their scythe behind them like a swinging pendulum. “But still, a free city for any of us to control, that is just too good an opportunity to pass up. Tu-Voc is in such a wonderful place, so temperate and mild, and so close to the ocean while being safe from sea monsters, it's paradise.”

“And a nice place to start some fires.” Antoic said. “I hear the soil down there is great for growing crops and cattle.”

“And it is surrounded by rivers and plains. Any large monsters that try to attack can be spotted a mile away.” Kaboc muttered. “Though, if I do take control, you would still be welcomed into the city.”

“Maybe I'd keep you around, maybe I won't, brother.” Salome leaned forward. “But whatever you have there, whatever pretty faces you have, I want. My cities are starting to become so boring to me, but yours looks like a lot of fun.”

“Some fresh blood would be welcome.”Ziko smiled, and Vioran was greeted with the sight of hollowed out rotten teeth. “Perhaps it would be time for me to move on to greener pastures.”

“We'll be watching and waiting, Vioran.” Vaboris held a hand toward him. “We might even pay a visit in the next few days. A lay of the land is always welcome, to get to know our new city better.”

With that, the holograms faded away, and Vioran was left alone in the room, alone with his servants, who stared at him and the chairs with blank expressions on their faces.

Vioran's however, was filled with a murderous hatred he hadn't felt since last night.

“THAT LOWLY LOUDMOUTHED BITCH!” He snapped. He grabbed his chair and threw it against the far wall. The chair exploded into hundreds of wooden shards and debris. “IS THIS HER FUCKING WAY OF APPLYING PRESSURE?! TO FORCE ME AHEAD OF SCHEDULE?! DAMN IT ALL!”

He raised his right arm up, and the chains that were attached to his servants necks rose into his hand. He yanked on one, and brought that servant into him. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her down to the ground. When she caught herself, he raised his foot and stepped down onto her back, which crumpled the servant girl. He stamped down again and again, harder than the time before, until the spine in that area had been shattered and the servant girl lay dead, severed in that area.

“Clean this mess up!” He snapped at the rest of them. The remaining servants moved fast, and began to remove the carcass of their fellow servant. “And make sure there isn't any remaining scent left!”

Vioran turned to head toward the far end of the room, to where his bedroom lay. He could not inform Vicks or Dorn of this, no, he had to deal with this himself. None of those vultures would dare lay a hand on his city, he would make sure of that. Aside from Kaboc, the rest of the Magistrates could burn for all he cared. But how was he going to deal with this? How...

As he opened the door to his room and walked within, he failed to notice the devices with the screens begin to warble and hiss with static. He failed to notice that the security cameras around his complex begin to power down, or that lights around the complex, and out into the city itself, began to flicker on and off. He failed to notice a sudden surge in energy that spiked across the city, as a hole in the sky began to form...
Last edited by Giratina93 on Thu Jan 07, 2021 11:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Re: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Chapter 4: Point Zero
“It's so huge! I never knew they could get so fig!”

Ful let a small smile creep on his face as he shifted his gaze to Cuillin. “Why wouldn't they? With enough food around for them to eat, and a moist enough atmosphere, a Legoneckir can reach even greater sizes than this.” He turned back to face the statue of the giant creature, a bipedal monstrosity with a strange flat like head and tentacles from the mouth. It stood high above them, the head nearly brushing the roof of the thirty meter tall building. “Weren't you paying attention in class last week? Under ideal circumstances, they can grow to more than double this size.”

Cuillin shook her head, and Ful let out an exasperated sigh as his smile died away. Behind the children, Molly could only let out a small laugh that betrayed how much she agreed with Ful. Even if the school was run by the Holy Knights, it was still important for children to pay attention and listen to what was being instructed. How many times had Molly's own mother chastised her for not paying attention or trying to think of something else when being instructed? She had to admit, she saw a little bit of herself in the girl, a little bit of her younger self, a self that she hadn't seen in several years.

“It says on the plaque that they're the progenitor of many of the monsters that roam the world outside of the walls.” Cuillin leaned up close to the statue and began to trace the words on it with her finger. “Their blood is a unique congru-”

“Conglomerate.”

“Conglomerate of different materials that, when exposed to living tissue or matter, can produce extreme results. As a result of this highly mutabon-”

“Mutagenic.”

“Mutagenic blood, and their extreme metabolism, Legoneckirs are considered high priority threats, and anyone who kills one is rewarded more than for most other monsters.” Cuillin turned away from the statue, and Molly saw her face had dropped somewhat. “But, that seems kind of mean, isn't it? Hunting something down that hasn't done anything wrong except exist.”

“It is.” Molly said. “Hurting anything is wrong, no matter what your teachers tell you. There is always an option for peace, to living and existing alongside everything else in nature. My mother used to tell me stories passed down through the family of the times before the Holy Knights existed, when man and nature were as one and peaceful. Before we became... this.” She looked down through the hallway of the museum, and past the Legoneckir statue at the assortment of mounted creatures and monsters of varying shapes and sizes. A stuffed mount of a Harpy was elevated on a pole, its claws stretched out and its face twisted into a feral snarl. A Mermaid stared back at it, her tail raised in defense and fangs bared. A twelve foot Minotaur was locked into battle with an equally large boar like humanoid, their claws interlocked and horns pinned against tusks. A great pitch black wyvern, as large as the Legoneckir and with five horns spiraling from its skull, had its wings fanned out to the sides and head arched back, with an orange glow that radiated from deep within its throat. All of these were from slain creatures, animals that Molly knew had been hunted down by Holy Knight pilots like Vioran or Vicks and specifically prepared in the most aggressive style possible. Across all the information plaques before each of the museum's displays of the various animals, the only information given was the danger they posed to people and the supposed ruthless and destructive natures they had. It was what was taught even at a young age to children; Anything that was not human or a pet to humans was dangerous and to be hunted down. It was the building blocks, the foundation of the Holy Knight system, and what motivated many young children to take up the sword and fight off the big bad evil monsters outside, all while unaware that animals were just that: Animals. There was no information on how they lived, how they bred, how they raised their young or anything that didn't support how the Holy Knights wanted people to see the outside world, and it made Molly's stomach churn just to think about it.

With the cafe having closed so early, the children weren't due back at their home for another two hours. Just sitting around at the cafe would have been acceptable, but Cuillin would have gotten bored with very little to do. The suggestion to head straight to their home and play Hodgeball had received looks of apprehension from Ful, and Molly could hardly blame him, since Hodgeball matches usually ended with Ful getting bruised or battered by Cuillin. In the end, Molly had decided a visit to the Museum of the Ancients would be a better use of time, and to that both children had been happy to agree with. The museum was one of the largest building in Tu-Voc, third only to the Enforcer Production Complex in the north and Vioran's own complex beside it, and Molly had assumed a visit to the museum would help alleviate her mind from the stressful situation she was in. As this was her first time actually visiting the museum, she had been taken back and amazed by the exhibits and displays of what the world outside of the walls was supposedly like, but as she and the others had drifted from exhibit to exhibit she had begun to notice the biases in the information present, and that gnawed away at her until the brief happiness she had felt simply was no more.

She noticed the orange glow out of the windows. Most of the other visitors that had been in the museum when they had arrived had long since left, and the lights above were beginning to shut off. “ We should be leaving now. It will be curfew shortly, and I don't want you two to be caught up in it.”

“But we never got to see the shrines of the gods! I wanted to see that!” Cuillin's cheeks puffed up.

Ful took her hand as Molly began to walk away, and tugged Cuillin to follow him. “I'll bring you back here next time so we can see that. I hear that section doesn't see a lot of- Why are the lights flickering?”

Molly shifted her gaze upward, and sure enough the lights that hung from the roof flickered on and off at an increasing rate. A loud humming grew from the bulbs, before they went pitch black. The entire museum was plunged into darkness, but the door out was still open, so Molly quickly lead the children toward the exit. As she passed the entrance booth, she saw that the woman inside seemed just as confused as she was, with her hand pressed on a large oval button and her face close to a speaker.

“Attention everything within the Museum of the Ancients. Due to irregular power fluctuations, the museum will be closing an hour early. Please follow the signs to the exit carefully and stay safe. Once outside, please return to your homes immediately. This energy surge is caused by an external force, and is being contained as we speak. This is not a drill nor an exercise, but a real emergency. Please remain calm and return to your homes at once.”

Outside of the museum, the sun had started to dip down toward the horizon. Aside from similar warnings that rang through the city, there was an eerie silence that hung over Tu-Voc. Not a single other person could be seen as far as Molly looked. No birds chirped, no wind blew. It almost felt as if the entirety of the city had been frozen in time, a ghost town devoid of life.

This was not the first time Molly had experienced such an emergency. Often, Perimeter Cities like Tu-Voc found themselves in the way of giant creatures or monsters, and such emergencies were usually sounded when such entities drew near. Yet, something felt different about this one. Molly felt a shiver run down her spine and her body tense, as if something was about to happen, something she wasn't quite sure of. Thankfully, the children's home wasn't very far off, only a handful of blocks down from their school, with Molly's own home being further off from there. It wouldn't take long for them to get to the house, and to safety.

“What's the emergency for?” Cuillin looked around at the empty streets. “Did something get in?”

“I doubt that's the case. If something were to come in, we would have been warned well in advance. Likely it's just a power outage or something they don't want people to think too hard about.”

Molly nodded. “It'll be alright. Yes, today was bad, but at least there's the chance of a better tomorrow. I'm sure your father is waiting for you both back at your home.”

She took their hands, and they set off from the museum. Within a few minutes, they passed the closed down Cheshire Cafe, and shortly after that, The Tu-Voc Educational Center. Above their heads came the rumbling of distant thunder, yet Molly noticed there was not a single cloud in the sky. From one horizon to the other, there was no trace of a storm, which put the girl on edge. Why was there the sound of thunder if there was no storm? Was this some new secret project the Holy Knights were working on? She has heard some monsters were so large and powerful their noises could be mistaken for the sounds of rolling thunder, so perhaps this was an Enforcer prototype at the complex?

“Molly, stop!”

The request came too late. Molly took one step extra and felt herself stop as pressure was put upon her chest. She turned her head from its skyward gaze and saw she had walked into the front door of the children's home. Her head was away from the wood by only a few inches, and she quickly stepped back when she realized how close she had gotten.

“Ehehehe... Thanks for the warning, Cuillin.” Molly looked down at the girl with an embarrased half smile on her face. “I... kinda was not paying attention there.”

“Thankfully you have a pair of in-built cushions to stop you.” Ful, face brightened red, looked away. “Though I imagine it still has to hurt a bit.”

“It doesn't hurt that bad.” Cuillin began to say. “It's anno-”

“You would have no way of knowing that!” Ful snapped. He held a finger to his sister's lips and silenced her. “Nor will you for a good five or so years, hopefully more. You shouldn't even be thinking about such things!”

“Please don't fight, please...” Molly placed her hands on their right shoulders. “And, yes it did feel uncomfortable. But better than hitting my head.” She took her hand off of Cuillin's shoulder and reached into a pocket, before she produced a golden key, which she inserted into the door and turned. “ Your brother's right, though. You're too young to have those kinds of thoughts, but that's a discussion for another day, understand?”

“Yes, Molly...”

Molly smiled. “Well then, I'll see you both tomorrow, and hopefully with good news.” She pushed the door open, and the two kids ran inside. Once they were in, she closed the door and locked it back up before she placed the key back into her pocket. With that, she backed away and turned to make her way back toward her own home. With the children's father being so busy and running irregular hours, the job of making sure they were overseen during the day fell to Molly, and with that came the keys to their house. Normally the keys were only used to let them in every evening, but in case of an emergency she could enter the house when needed. Thankfully such an emergency hadn't happened yet, but it did feel weird that the only contact Molly had with their father was through the notes he left each morning. To be an Enforcer mechanic was a long and dangerous job, but surely there had to be some time off where he was actually present, but the past month had been anything but, not a trace of him aside from his notes.

She had walked several blocks down from the twin's home and was only a few from her own when the thunderous noise above intensified into a deafening rumble. Once more Molly looked up to the sky, yet there was not a single cloud present. It seemed so odd to her, that such a noise could be made without any storm clouds visible...

There was something else as well. Ever since she had left the children's home, she had felt as if she were being watched. Every few steps or so she would turn back to see if she could find what was causing this feeling, yet nothing presented itself. Yet, the feeling in her gut never left. Why did she feel like she was being followed...

The city trembled. The ground beneath Molly's feet shook and the girl fell to her knees and hands in an instinctive defense. She lay as low to the ground as possible, and though the rumbling of the earth pained her chest, it was better than the alternative. Down so low, she was safe from accidental harm of falling prone involuntarily.

The shaking stopped as quickly as it happened. Carefully, slowly, Molly rose back to her feet. Though she had experienced such tremors before, they were incredibly minor, almost undetectable. A tremor of this scale was new to her, and alongside the thunderous rumble above... What was even going on? This couldn't be a Holy Knight experiment... could it? Normally there would be Prowlers patrolling the streets at this hour, yet she saw none. Where...

Her head turned to the left as a second loud noise shot out from an alleyway. However, she recognized this as not some rumbling thunder, but something much more human.

It was the sound of screaming.

Without a second thought, Molly ran down into the alleyway. If someone was screaming, they had to be in danger, and even if the situation it self would be too much for her to handle, she had to try and help. If she were to have heard that scream and walked away, it would have plagued her mind for months, even years.

The walls of the alley loomed high above her, covered in old decayed wood and molded bricks. The alleyway split off into several branching pathways, but Molly continued straight down. This section of the city near where she lived had once been a planned complex of warehouses, but for reasons she had never been able to figure out had long been abandoned. None of the other girls seemed to know either, with only Heather giving her an answer that wasn't a “I'm not sure,” and even that had merely been a turn of the head and a scoff at her.

She stumbled as her feet hit something, and turned back to see what she had tripped over. Lay strewn across the ground were large sections of metal, with the ends torn apart and lacerated. Blood was splattered on the torn edges, and sections of the metal glowed with an orange hue. The size of the metal pieces, as long as Molly was tall, told her these had to have been from a Prowler that had gotten dismembered not too long ago, but that made her heart beat faster. What could have torn apart a Prowler in such a way...

Another scream, this more frantic than the last, shook her from the sight. It was the same person as before, but now it sounded more frantic, more pained. Molly continued to run in its direction, deeper and deeper into the long desolate section of the city. The feeling in her gut only grew stronger, as even despite her being within the darkness of an alleyway, she still felt as if she were being trailed, followed by someone. As she rounded a corner, she saw a flurry of motion move past her. Two figures ran in the direction she had come from, one much shorter than her, and another taller. They were thin and lanky in build, the shorter one definitely female, while the taller had a soft face that yet looked somewhat masculine. The taller one had a large baggy coat that covered him, while the shorter had little on but red bandages. Their faces were covered in the same fear and confusion Molly's was, and as they saw her they parted ways as they kept running. Yet, Molly thought she saw something else on them as they fled, a flash of black and brown feathers.

Fe-feathers? Were those... really feathers?!

The area in front of her shook, tearing her thoughts away from the pair that fled deeper into the darkness. A third person appeared, but unlike the others, there were no feathers on this one. Instead, her hair was long and white, and her left eye was closed. The clothes she had on were torn and caked in blood, and her body tumbled through the dust cloud and sprawled in a heap before Molly. Her back was covered in lacerations and deep gouges, the same that the Prowler had.

There was little doubt in her mind, the scream had to have come from this woman.

“Wait, please don't die on me! I-I can help!” She took off her shirt and began to press it against the deep cuts across the woman's back. Blood began to soak the shirt, but it was better than her freely bleeding out. She needed to get this girl somewhere safe, and fast. But, what could have-

“Suqfas kirs.”

The voice had come from the dust cloud. Molly, curiosity overwhelming her desire to grab the woman and to run with her, turned to look as something moved out of the dust cloud. What emerged was not human, not in any sense aside from the general outline. Instead, merely the upper half seemed to be human, as everything below the waste was a sprawling mass of black tentacles. The entity's arms ended in giant serrated talons over four feet long, and from its hair writhed serpents black as the approaching night, with heads like those of vipers. The entity turned its head to face Molly, and Molly felt her skin crawl as they made eye contact. Blood dripped from the razor talons of the being, as it did from the fangs of the serpents.

If the white haired girl had been the cause of the scream, this was no doubt the catalyst.

“Sga calim.” The entity spoke once more, its voice dry and harsh, yet deep as well. A single clawed finger raised up and pointed toward the white haired girl...

Her body moved without thinking. Molly stepped out in front of the wounded girl and stared at the alien monstrosity. Her arms were spread out in full, and she stood her ground.

“No! You cannot have her!” She shouted at the strange being. “I don't know what you are, if you're some holy knight experiment or some monster from beyond the wall, but I won't let you hurt her any more! If you want her, you are going to have to go through me!”

Internally, Molly had no idea what she was doing, or why she was doing it. Every fiber in her body told her to run, to flee from this being, girl or no girl. She stood no chance against it, she wouldn't even last a second, but for some reason, she had moved to protect this girl. No, she knew why. Because it was the right thing to do. Because that was how she was raised. If someone was in need, she would help them. If someone was in danger, she would help them. If someone was being attacked, she would help them.

All debts were to be repaid in kind. That was the motto of the Cheshire Cafe.

The strange being tilted its head at the sight. Slowly, it lowered its clawed arm, and stepped forward. Molly felt its eyes peer deep into her own, eyes that seemed to grow larger until they filled her entire vision.

“Xioq Zqutaqx er misac.” The fiend hissed. A sharp pain struck Molly in the neck, and her field of vision returned to normal. She looked down and saw to her horror that one of the fiend's tentacles had wrapped around her neck, and for some reason she felt her strength begin to be drained away. She felt more tired, her struggles and screams more lethargic. The fiend spoke again, but this time not only did she understand its words, but the voice it spoke with was her own, Molly's own.

“You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Collateral damage in my que-"

A blur of red sliced through the air and cut through the tentacle. Molly stumbled backwards as the fiend howled and screeched in pain, its severed appendage flailing uselessly along the ground. Molly watched, dumbstruck as her eyes laid upon the instrument that had caused the wound: A crimson red spear, over six feet in length and patterned with six feathery wings upon its handle. The spear flew out of the earth and into the hands of its owner, who landed between Molly and the fiend. It was a woman, one two heads taller than Molly, yet half a head shorter than the abomination. Her hair was long and violet in color, and her body was covered in a skin tight black and purple bodysuit. A mask covered her mouth, and left only her eyes, a pale red in color, visible as she turned back to face Molly.

“Take her and run! I'll handle this abdomi-abomination!”

Shakily, Molly rose to her feet. A hundred questions raced through her mind, but she knew the newcomer was right. Instead, she grabbed the white haired girl and began to run with her. “T-thank you!” She called out to her. “Please be safe!”

The violet haired woman laughed. “Don't worry, I won't die to this thing, not anytime soon.”

“How dare you interfere with my target?!”

“And how DARE you take the voice of that waitress!”

As Molly fled, she could hear the sounds of metal clashing against claws echo all behind her. It was slow process, but soon, she found herself once more outside of the alleyway, no father than three blocks from her house. The woman was surprisingly heavy to carry, but Molly barely felt the weight. No, she had to get her to safety, back to her home, and cared for, and then possibly she could get some answers.

Finally, she arrived back at her house. Carefully, she leaned the girl against the wall and pulled out her house key. She tried to insert it into the key hole, but she missed, her fingers jamming the key into the wood beside it several times. Finally, she inserted it in and turned, and opened the door. Just as quickly, she grabbed the girl again and carried her up the stairs into the bathroom, and laid her into the tub.

Molly looked out the window. Night had already fallen over the city, yet she could have sworn she saw a shadowy figure leap across the distant warehouses away from her home. She breathed a sigh of relief. That meant no danger was possibly coming her way. She was safe, as was this girl. But first, she had to tend to her injuries.

She grabbed the torn clothes and took them off the girl, then began to wash out the gouges. They were deep, several inches in, but they could be tended to. Once she had washed them out with soap and hot water, Molly began to grab rags and pressed them against the lacerations. Each one turned from a milky white color into a crimson red, but at the seventh rag, no more blood came out. She had applied enough pressure to stop the bleeding, so quickly she reached into the bathroom closet and searched for what she was looking for. She pulled out a sewing needle and threads, and laid the unconscious girl out on her stomach. Without hesitating, she began to sew the wounds closed, starting with as deep as she could get, and working her way up toward the surface of the skin.

As she worked, only now did she have the time to get a good look at the girl. She looked rather young, no older than seventeen or maybe eighteen. Though, Molly herself was bad at guessing ages, since she herself looked to be younger than she was. She was also tall, a few inches more than her, maybe as tall as Heather. Her left eye had remained closed the whole time, but her right was a gentle golden hue to it. Her body was also slimmer than Molly's, and Molly couldn't help but feel a little jealous. This girl probably felt less pain walking around than she did, and she was more muscular as well.

Molly shook her head. No, why was she thinking about that? No, she had to focus on what was important. That creature, that talking thing... How had it learned to speak in her tongue, with her voice?! Was it able to mimic her now?! Was it even still alive thanks to that woman with the spear? Who was that woman? And... it felt as if she knew her somehow... And those two she had met before in the alley. There was no doubt in her mind, those were feathers she had seen. Could that possibly mean, those two were-

A groan brought Molly's attention back down to the girl. The girl rose to her knees, and Molly, caught off guard, fell backwards against the wall of the bathroom. The girl them fully rose to her feet, and stared down at Molly. Behind her, the moon shone through the window, and the light from it made the girl seemed to radiate with an almost divine air.

“You... You're awake.” Molly stammered. “Oh thank goodness. I was worried your injuries would be too much. Umm, please don't peck at the threads on your back. Those are needed to keep your wounds close-”

“Are you the one?”

Molly stared blankly at the naked girl. “Ummm... come again?”

The girl's other eye opened up, and both golden eyes stared down at Molly. Her voice was deeper than Molly expected, but still definitely feminine. “I ask of you, are you the one who rescued me?”
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

User avatar
Giratina93
Administrator
Administrator
Posts: 7246
Joined: Sat Jul 24, 2010 6:42 pm
Location: Hope I'm not interrupting!
Contact:

Re: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Post by Giratina93 »

Chapter 5: Demmy
“Y-yes... Yes I was.” Molly rose from her position. “You, you were badly hurt from that thing and-”

She went silent as the girl stepped forward. She had to turn her eyes to face away from her exposed body. It was one thing to look only on her wounds as she was fixing them, but this was too much, it just felt wrong to be so close to a stranger like this, it felt unnerving.

“My assailant is no longer chasing me?” The girl asked. Molly gave a quick nod, and the girl pressed a finger against her throat. “And... you tended to my injuries. I owe you a life debt for what you have provided, for saving my life.”

“A l-life debt?! T-there's no need to go that far! I only did what any person should do!” Molly tried to gently move the girl's hand away from her. “I'm not done tending to your wounds yet... But, can I ask you a few questions? And p-please have your arms around your chest.”

The girl nodded, and took a seat on the rim of the tub. She turned to look up at Molly while she folded her arms around herself. “Of course. It is only natural I do so.”

With an internal sigh, Molly leaned in to continue her work. She grabbed at the needle that had been dangling from the bottom most wound, just above the hips, and wove it between the opened flesh to begin to stitch it closed. “What's your name? You don't seem to be from around here.” Molly decided to start from there, from a standard place to begin. It only made sense to ask for the name of someone she didn't know, someone she hadn't seen in all of her life living in Tu-Voc. People coming in and out of the city was unheard of for her, yet someone like this girl would have stood out if Molly had seen her before.

The girl didn't give a response, not at first. It was silent as Molly continued to stitch up the wound. She looked up, and was about to ask again when the girl finally replied.

“Demmy. You can call me Demmy. And yes, I am not from around here. I'm from... outside of the city. I'm unaware of which city this is, or what life is like here.”

Molly paused in her work. The name was an unusual one, but if Demmy wasn't from Tu-Voc but instead from another Perimeter City, or even from outside of the kingdom as a whole...“Demmy... That's a beautiful name. It sounds pleasant to the ear. Why were you being chased and attacked by that thing? Do you know what it was?”

Demmy shrugged. “I don't know. It attacked me out of the blue and... I found myself in that alleyway. I think it warped me in there. I tried to run but I couldn't escape.” She tilted her head. “Now's my turn to ask you a question or two. What is YOUR name, and how did you get me away from that freakish monster?”

“The name is Molly, Molly Chance, and I took you and ran while someone else caught that thing's attention. I was worried for their safety, but I think they got out alive and alright. Whatever it was that was chasing you, you don't have to worry about it any more. I thin... I think she put it down.”

Demmy closed her eyes and let out a low relieved sigh. The creases that had formed across her face thinned out, and she let a small smile form across her face. “That's good to know. You seem to be honest about the truth, Molly, and that's a blessing in its own way.”

Molly finished the gouge and moved to the last opened wound, just below Demmy's right armpit. “Please raise your arms. It's a small cut, but it needs to be closed like the others. Keeping it open would risk infection.”

Demmy did as instructed and let Molly begin stitching it closed. “How long am I going to need these stitches?”

“Two weeks, then I can remove them from your body. By then, the wounds should be fully closed. I hope this isn't too painful for you.”

“Oh no it isn't. I think that thing must have dulled my pain receptors when it attacked me. I barely feel a thing.”

“That's good to know. Seeing someone in pain, I can't stand seeing that. It just hurts to see, and all I want is no one to be in pain. I'm sure your parents would hate to see that as well.”

Demmy looked down at Molly, and her smile faded. “My parents, yeah... They would, wouldn't they?”

Molly rose from her position. “W-what do you mean by that? Why are you que-” She stopped as Demmy looked at her, and she could see it on her face, an expression of sorrow. “O-oh... I'm sorry I... I didn't know.”

“That's fine. You had no way of knowing. I just wish they were still around...It's been years, and I still miss them. But, that is something in the past that cannot be fixed. I just have to move on, and live for tomorrow.”

“I.. I understand.” Molly forced herself to say. It seemed this girl, Demmy, had lived quite a harsh life if she not only had no parents left to be with, but was also being hunted by whatever that thing was. She let out a deep sigh. “If... If you have nowhere else to go, then... I guess you can stay her at my place, at least until it's safe for you to leave. There's only one bed, but-”

Demmy turned to face Molly as she stood up as well, and placed a finger on Molly's lips. “Your kindness only adds to the life debt that I owe you.” Her golden eyes shifted down to the girl as she stepped out of the tub. “I will gladly accept that offer, Molly. I do not need a bed to rest in. This tub will suffice.”

“What? No, no! I insist you have the bed! There's a chair downstairs that I can sleep in. I've done it before, when I don't feel like sleeping in the bed...” Molly tried to keep her eyes facing Demmy's own, but the height of the other woman and her lack of clothing and her stitched up body made that task all but impossible for her. She was forced to avert her gaze off to the side, and turned to open the bathroom door to head out. “Let me get you some clothes. I'll have to throw your old ones away.”

Demmy gave a silent nod before she spoke. “That is fine. Those clothes no longer serve a purpose for me. They were merely to try and let me hide from that thing, but that did not work. I will accept whatever you bring out and wear it.”

Molly closed the bathroom door behind her and ran to the oak drawer in her room. If Demmy was going to accept anything she would hand her, then there was no need to go and buy her some actual clothes for now. Luckily she had kept her old clothes from years prior that no longer fit her, something she had planned in case she ever had a child or a possible gift for Cuillin when she was older. Instead, five pairs of undergarments, two pairs of sleeping shorts, a tank top and jean shorts would be enough for Demmy, at least until Molly had the time to buy her something proper. While Demmy was taller than her, she was also slimmer than her, so these old clothes should better fit her. Once she had everything in hand, she ran back into the bathroom to find Demmy was staring at herself in the mirror, arms raised up above her head. The white haired woman turned to look at Molly with a soft, bemused expression.

“That was fast. Did you already have those clothes readied?”

“Ummm... Not quite, but I quickly knew what to get you.” Molly handed the naked Demmy the set of clothes, then turned around to close the door again. “I'll let you dress up in private.”

“Understandable.” Demmy's voice came from the other side of the door. “Molly, you seem to be worried about something. Not just my predicament but... Your face and voice, you seem to have a lot troubling you.”

Molly covered her mouth as a soft gasp escaped from her lips. How had Demmy known that? Yes she was worried, but any normal person would assume the worry was simply due to what Demmy was going through and whatever that thing was that was chasing her, not anything else. What made Demmy think she knew there was more than just that weighing down on her mind? She bit her lower lip, before she finally sighed and groaned.

“There's... a lot going on here, some bad events that are my fault, some outside of my control, but... It's honestly small potatoes compared to what you're going through. No need to worry about me.”

The door swung open, and Demmy stepped out. The velvet shorts were a perfect fit onto her, but the tanktop was much shorter on her than Molly had expected, as while her chest was covered, her entire stomach was exposed. The scent of blood was gone from her, and Demmy moved as if unaware of the pain from the wounds or the stitches she had. Both her arms were wrapped beneath her chest, and her head tilted to the left, her left eye closed. Molly had to admit to herself, even if the tank top was too small, she at least looked comfortable in her new clothes and not annoyed or upset.

“Putting others before yourself. That is a noble trait, one few where I come from share.” Demmy walked past Molly, each step of hers faster and longer in stride than Molly's own, and she reached the bedroom. “A lovely bedroom. Small yet adequate. If you insist that I take the bed, then I accept that offer. Tomorrow, I'll do what I can to help absolve you of your worries, Molly. It is the least I can do to repay you.”

Molly began to open her mouth in protest only to stop herself. All debts were to be repaid in kind. That was the motto of the Cheshire Cafe. In that sense, she couldn't bring herself to argue with Demmy. She was so eager to follow through with that motto, to help out others and bring a little bit of happiness in this world that needed it, that someone else offering to help her in return, who was she to decline that?

“I... Okay then. It's... It's a lot on my shoulders, I have to admit, and some of the people that I know are a little strange, but I hope you can get along with them. We all work at a cafe, and we're kind of a big dysfunctional family, warts and all.”

Demmy gave Molly a quick glance, then shook her head. Her left eye opened back up, and a soft smile was on her face. “To have a family again, even a dysfunctional one... Molly Chance, you say those you work with are strange. I am well accustomed to strange. I'll do what I can to fit in, to repay you for your kindness, and if that thing, that monster appears again... I'll be ready. It caught me by surprise last time. Not again.”

“Hopefully, it doesn't come to that. I pray it doesn't. I'd rather not deal with that thing again... Hopefully it's no longer around... I hope.” She stepped back, and began to close the bedroom door. “Goodnight, Demmy. We have a bit of an early morning, I'm afraid, and that's where my problems begin, as you'll see.”

“Goodnight Molly, and your problems are nothing against me.”

Molly closed the door, and as she turned to walk back down the stairs to the chair, thousands of thoughts raced through her mind. Why was this happening to her? Why was all of this, everything that had transpired today, why was it all focused on her? Were Cuillin and Ful alright? What if that thing went after them, or after Heather or Doris or Delilah? What if her entire life was going to end tomorrow, with not just the permanent closure of the cafe, but Vioran executing Heather and everyone else? She grabbed at her hair and wanted to tug and rip it out as she flopped onto the chair in the living room, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. Her life, her friends, everything was hanging on by a thread, and not there was some sociopath monster roaming the city, and Molly now had an extra mouth to care for. She wrapped her arms around her knees and began to rock back and forth on the chair, before she slowly fell asleep to her own rocking.
Come read my latest Fanfiction: Daily Life at the Cheshire Cafe

Image
GotengoXGodzilla wrote: It could be said that kaiju regeneration is like human dodging, basically.
GotengoXGodzilla wrote:That's not Mothra, that's an ugly goddamn demon!

Post Reply