964: A Witch needs her Cat – Chapter Two, Part ThreePosted: February 14, 2015
Shades: So, let me get this straight: because you got so pissed off at Kale, you’ve gone and called out sick on every other riff you’re involved in for this cycle – but you’re game to come see what I’ve been having to put up with off and on, when Contacts can’t be bothered or SC forces me into it?
Specs: Look, I need a breather from Kale and Tai and all the other dumbasses I’ve been putting up with, SC’s busy with that Assassin’s Creed riff, Contacts went and disappeared after I decapitated him and I can’t find him anywhere, and Glasses-
*a young toddler who looks strikingly like Glasses waddles by, happily babbling about nothing in particular*
Specs: …Glasses had another one of her issues, again.* So, I’m guessing you need a buddy, and hell, it’s either this or go back to being pissed off.
Shades: …Fair enough, I guess. Fair warning, though, part of Salem’s backstory involves her being a mercenary.
Specs: God. Damn it.
Shades: Oh, hey, it’s you all again. Look, patrons, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you coming and reading these, I just hate long-winded, theatrical introductions, so I’ll keep this brief: Salem drove to Sven’s house, met Eve, and then discovered Sven was harboring Train due to an injury. That’s literally all that happened. Now, we have a riff to get to, and I’d rather not suffer any longer than absolutely necessary, so let’s just get on with it.
Her calm expression had turned blank as she slowly stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind her in such speed and force, the whole cabin practically shook.
Specs: Oh, wonderful start.
Shades: Isn’t it just, though?
Her actions caused Sven to jump slightly as he spoke in a louder voice.
Specs: I’m sorry, I came here to get away from Matty’s awful action descriptors, not get hit by more of them.
“Hey, what’s wrong?!”
Shades: Well, you’ve got quite a list to choose from – you’ve met Eve before you’ve dealt with Torneo, Train is still an assassin even though he met you after he left Chronos, Salem exists in the story and you’re buddies with her, and you called her over to treat an injury Train received, even though you must have surely received some basic medical training during your tenure as an agent of the IBI, and Eve is a bountiful fount of knowledge regarding science, which medicine is considered to be. Take your pick.
Specs: Wow, I have clearly missed a party.
Shades: Trust me, you’re glad that you did.
“What is HE doing here?” Salem asked, spitting the word “he” as if it were a disgusting term.
Specs: Yes, the canonical main protagonist is a blight upon the Sue’s moment of glory, how dare he be in her spotlight. Shit, it’s like I’ve seen this before in other badfics or something.
Shades: Get this – Train’s also supposed to be the primary love interest of this fic.
Specs: Oh, gross, are you kidding me right now?
Shades: Don’t I wish.
“W-what do you mean?” Sven asked, confusion laced into his voice.
Shades: I didn’t know Glasses was into vocal crochet.
Specs: Glasses crochets?
Shades: Well, mainly for practice than anything else. She tried to knit me a scarf, bless her little heart, but it came out looking a bit like a fucked up two-headed snake.
Specs: Are we sure this is Glasses’ work, then?
*Li’l Glasses waddles up to Specs and offers him a yarn ball*
Specs: Uh, I think that’s Ghostie’s yarn, little missy. You might want to put that back before she notices and gives you a disciplinary nose-boop.
*Glasses waddles off, giggling*
Shades: I have such mixed feelings towards her whenever this shit happens. Part of me still generally dislikes her, because she’s way too peppy for my likes, but damn it if she isn’t about the cutest little tyke.
“You know what I mean. He’s an assassin. He works for Chronos, just think of all the innocent people he’s killed and yet here he is in your house while you ask me to treat him? No frigging way.” Salem refused as she turned on her heel and started for the door.
Specs: “all the innocent people he’s killed.” Typically, when Chronos has to deploy their Numbers, the person being hunted down is far from innocent. Except Saya, but that was all Creed, Chronos had no part in it.
“So…that’s it? You’re just going to let him die? I thought you said that you would use your medical knowledge to help people not leave them for dead. That’s what sweepers do, we help people, isn’t that right?” Sven said, his words causing Salem to stop dead in her tracks as if acting as a barrier between her and the door.
Shades: That, ladies and gentlemen, is what TV Tropes call an armor-piercing question. Maybe not the snappiest or most elegantly worded, but it worked.
He was right. When she became a sweeper she said that she would use her medical skill to help people while using her skill in battle to catch her bounties.
Specs: What, and that’s all? Has this kid never heard of Dog the Bounty Hunter? There’s far more ways to help people than simply providing medical aid and catching bad guys – hell, a lot of the bad guys get a stern talking to from Dog when they’ve been caught, something along the lines of, “Stop being a screw up, it’s not worth it in the long run.”
Shades: Not to mention some of the cases where the arresting officer and the apprehended criminal keep in regular contact to make sure that everything stays on the straight and narrow from then on. Not like probation, just in their free time, you know?
Specs: Were you that kind of cop?
Shades: I was a detective and hunter of paranormal beings. Usually, I didn’t really have the time on hand to make the effort because I was out on another call of some creep going nuts in a highly-populated civilian area that needed his head bust open, and that would escalate into some deep-rooted demonic conspiracy against humankind.
Specs: Well, that sucks.
As much as she hated having to do this, Salem knew that it would be wrong of her to simply leave that assassin to suffer mostly because she was still mad at him for shooting her and killing her bounty (which she wasn’t planning on informing Sven of).
Specs: Wait wait wait. While I dislike having to go against Sven’s otherwise sound logic, why should Salem help the guy who shot her and stole hers and Sven’s paycheck? Which, by the way Salem, you’re seriously not going to tell Sven about his new financial troubles? Jackass, that’s money out of his pocket that he’s not even aware of! I’d shoot you again just for that!
Shades: Oh trust me, you’re only scraping the tip of the iceberg here.
Specs: “I came here for a breather,” I said, “It’s this or keep being pissed off,” I said…
Not before long, the pristine-haired girl
Shades: Oh bloody hell, I forgot she had white hair.
Specs: She has white hair?
finally gave a sigh of defeat as she sent a death glare over her shoulder.
Specs: It skipped off the rim.
Shades: Ooh, just missed it.
“Fine…” She barked while turning around once again and making her way towards the door that she had slammed shut.
Specs: Ruff ruff.
Li’l Glasses: Puh-pee?
Specs: Go play with your dolly, sweetheart.
Salem stomped into the room and threw her bag onto the nearest chair.
Specs: *Chair* “Ow! You bitch!”
Shades: *Floor* “What the fuck did I ever do to you, Leadfoot?!”
A small smile snuck its way onto Sven’s face as he watched the teen roll up her sleeves in preparation to begin. He turned his attention towards Eve before speaking in a hushed tone.
“Hey Eve, why don’t you go in there and give Salem a hand? I’m sure she’d appreciate the help.” The sweeper suggested, receiving a simple “Okay” as Eve entered the room. Sven knew that no matter how much Salem tried to hide it, she had a very huge caring side to her. A personality most would describe as “tsundere”.
Specs: No, tsundere is somebody who outwardly hates everybody but secretly doesn’t. Salem outwardly can’t decide if she likes everybody or not, but secretly still can’t decide.
Shades: So what’s the Japanese term for that?
Specs: Beats me.
The young blonde slowly walked up behind Salem who was now pulling the first aid kit from her bag. At first, Salem had not even realized the extra person in the room until she glanced behind her.
“Oh…uh, hey there.” She spoke, unsure of what to say while turning around to face Eve.
“Sven said that I should help you.” She stated in a monotone voice.
Shades: *Eve* “No, I’m not devoid of emotions, I just instinctively hate you.”
“Is that so? Well okay, Eve. To start off, do you think you could help me sit him up so that I can take off his shirt?”
Shades: Did it get a tad warmer in here?
Specs: What the hell was that?
Glasses: I heard porn, where’s the porn!
Shades: Oh, look who’s back to normal now.
Specs: Implied porn causes Glasses to get better. Who knew.
Eve nodded before setting her stuffed cat
*Glasses hisses in horror and flees*
Shades: No, not a stuffed ACTUAL cat! Haven’t you ever heard of a plushie, you sod?!
onto the table and standing next to Salem, awaiting further instruction.
The two began to pulling him up until he rested in a slumped over upright position.
Specs: If he’s slumped over, he’s not upright. Choose one or neither, author.
“Okay, support his back for me please.” Eve did so while Salem proceeded to gently unbutton his grey dress shirt. She carefully removed it and threw onto the floor, uncaring if the fabric got dirtied or ruined. It wasn’t her shirt so therefore not her problem.
Shades: If she ever trashed any of my shirts, I’d wake up and turn her into mincemeat. Fuck bandages, all I need is rage and my wounds don’t matter anymore.
Specs: That was strangely Monocle-sounding.
Shades: No, it’s me-sounding. Monocle picked it up from me because he didn’t want to seem like he was being shown up at the one thing he never ceases to brag about.
Her ocean blue eyes began scanning his torso
Specs: COMPILING BIOLOGICAL DATA.
Shades: PROCESS COMPLETE. CEASE OGLING OPERATIONS.
which had been quite badly burned and/or cut in some areas.
Specs: Oooooh, Lyle’s gonna be mad when she sees that.
Shades: I think a few people are going to be mad when they see that.
He also seemed to have obtained a bad cut and slight bruising in his head.
Specs: In his head? Oh man, I think Train has a lot worse problems than anybody first realized.
Shades: Honestly, I’m more shocked that Salem knew about those internal injuries just from skin level.
All in all he had been pretty beaten up which was more than enough to please this sweeper.
Shades: So she gets her jollies from horrible abuse? Somebody’s got herself some kinks.
She began to treat the wounds by applying alcohol and other healing medications.
Shades: Booze for healing? I fucking love this medkit!
Specs: Man, I’ll tell you what, if I could heal my wounds by getting slammed, I’d never leave the pub again!
Shades: You and me both, mate. We’d just be punching each other repeatedly for the sole purpose of having another round.
Glasses, peeking out from behind a chair: What are the “other healing medications,” do you think?
Specs: If it’s not loaded potato skins and cheeseburgers, I will be very disappointed.
Luckily, none of his cuts required stitches which just made her job a lot easier.
Specs: Was hell on her bandage supply, though.
All the way through the process, Eve had been very helpful in handing her things that she needed and even applying medication as well.
Shades: Right, “applying medication.” On a shot-ski!
Specs: Chug! Chug! Chu- I mean, heal! Heal! Heal!
“Okay, now we have to put on the bandages. Think you can help me?” The blonde nodded in response, just as she had been anytime Salem would ask something of her.
Specs: Eve has a name, you know.
“Great, pass me the bandages please.” Salem said, politely. Eve scurried towards the table where the first aid kit sat, returning with the bandages in-hand.
Shades: Eve is not a field mouse!
*Glasses hisses ferociously and hides again*
The teen took the bandages from her before beginning to wrap them around every wounded area that had been treated already.
Specs: I suppose you could do it in the reverse order… not sure how well that’d work.
After that had been done, Salem picked up his shirt from the floor and slid it back on him. She took a step back to somewhat admire her work. She had done a flawless job, thanks to Eve’s help.
Shades: No, EVE had done a flawless job, you were just there so that she wouldn’t get all the credit. Let’s not get things confused here, madam.
Salem glanced towards said blonde and gave her a smirk.
Shades: Ooone second…
*Shades summons a grenade launcher and pops an oddly blue-colored grenade out into the hall*
Specs: What was that?
Shades: Tape-net bomb. It uses pie as a floor adhesive.
“Well, you did good, Eve. We’re going to have to keep an eye on him, though…and change his bandages every two days. Do you…think you can handle that?” Salem asked, her head turning towards the young girl that she was speaking to.
“Yes.” Eve replied, for once not simply nodding while she continued to stare at the assassin.
Specs: *Eve* Believe it or not, but I’m far, far more qualified for this than you’ll ever be in your entire miserable life.
There was a short moment of silence as Salem stared done at Eve, a look of seriousness replacing her grin.
Specs: Is a done-stare when you just glare at somebody all pissy-like, but can’t work up the nerve to do anything to them?
Shades: If that’s the case, my default look is a done-stare.
She had still not learned who eve was yet.
Specs: Here’s a hint – she’s a PROPER NOUN.
It was defiantly
~[MEANWHILE, IN ANOTHER RIFFING ROOM]~
*SC’s eye twitches*
Did anybody else have the sudden urge to scream about something annoying? That wasn’t just me, was it?
~[BACK AT THE OTHER RIFFING ROOM]~
a strange chain of events. A strange girl with Sven while Chronos’ top assassin dwelled in his house, now in the midst of healing? It was all very strange and confusing for her.
*Shades summons a rocket launcher and fires blindly out into the hall; an explosion and screaming can be heard*
Shades: Did you hear something?
The short blanket of silence was finally broken by Salem as she turned on her heel to leave.
“Right…well look after him for me. I’ll be right back; I just have to ask Sven something.” And with that being said, the teen exited the room, making her way towards the green-haired sweeper who stood in the kitchen preparing a meal, unaware of Salem who had now taken a seat in one of the chairs at the table.
Shades: To be continued, blah blah blah, see you next time. I also don’t much care for long-winded exits, so you’ll just have to deal with my brevity.
Specs: …By the way, did you hear somebody shouting a second ago?
Shades: I did, yeah – sounded a bit like somebody was saying, “Jefe’s knitting?”
*[Oh, right, that. Uh, so, Glasses was a cat in a previous life and died in her late twenties; this is an important detail, because twenty-eight years to a cat is only about three years to humans. So when she came back to life as a human, something in the system fucked up, and she got hit with this weird little curse of sorts where she’ll occasionally and inexplicably revert back to a three-year-old for an extended period of time. We call her “Li’l Glasses” when that happens. -Book Specs]