Terror Aboard the Persephone! (part 7)
Jun. 19th, 2009 05:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlpiresorry i missed a day! my brother's getting married in a few weeks, so RL's terribly busy. i might have to hold off on the last three chapters for a few days. :(
Title: Terror Aboard the Persephone! (Part Seven)
Author: girlpire
Rating: PG-13 (or FRT)
Characters: Angel, Spike, Gunn, Connor, Wesley, Xander, Riley, and Kate, plus more OC's than you will probably be comfortable with.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: A series of highly improbable coincidences aboard a cruise ship makes stopping this particular apocalypse a bit more complicated than usual for the fang gang.
Author's Notes: This story takes place at some ambiguous point during season five of AtS. Spike is solid, Connor doesn't know who Angel is, and Xander is both-eyed and didn't participate in the BtVS comics. The entire fic spans the course of about five hours.
[Part 1]
[Part 2]
[Part 3]
[Part 4]
[Part 5]
[Part 6]
***
Terror Aboard the Persephone!
Part Seven
***
Jessica was hungry. Puking always did that to her, and she'd actually thrown up once more while Connor was gone, leaning over the small trash can while the hot naked man in socks watched awkwardly from the doorway, dismay written across his face. Probably why he'd been in such a hurry to leave.
Now her stomach was growling insistently as she rinsed out her mouth in the bathroom and drank a few swallows of water. She didn't want to eat anything that would possibly unsettle her stomach even more, but she could probably down some crackers or something from a vending machine without a problem. She still felt a little queasy, but well enough to scout out some food. Jess briefly finger-combed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror before heading toward the door that led out of the stateroom. She might even be back before Connor.
After sneaking past the guard, which was a lot easier to do than it should have been, Jess went off in search of a vending machine. Despite having worked on the Persephone for a few months, she wasn't that sure of the layout. It was a very large ship. She knew they'd gone down some stairs to get to the staterooms, so she went up some stairs to get back to the casino deck, but she wasn't sure what direction to go from there. She ended up in a part of the ship that she was pretty sure wasn't being used tonight, since the lights were all off.
She wandered into a smallish ballroom in the dark, hoping that she'd be able to tell what room it was and therefore orient herself inside the ship that way, but it was even darker in this room than it had been in the hallway. And it kind of smelled like paint. She flipped a couple of switches on the wall to turn the lights on. Oh, she thought, glancing around the half-finished room. That explains the paint smell.
A ceiling fan had come on as well, but Jessica didn't really notice. After deciding that nothing in the room looked familiar to her, she turned toward to door to leave. So she had her back to the room during the ceiling fan's eighth spin, which is when the fan finally flung off the pan of paint that had been balanced on one of its blades earlier in the evening. The paint pan hit her squarely in the back of the head before falling to the floor with a clatter.
Jessica let out a pained yelp and stumbled a little bit in surprise, her hand flying up to touch where she'd been hit. It came away sticky and wet, and her immediate thought was that she was bleeding profusely, but one look at her hand confirmed it was just paint. Bright blue paint. Which was now running down her hair.
***
Xander was in the small ballroom where he'd spent most of the day already, studying the wires that were hanging out of the wall. He'd tried to go talk to the captain about this whole terrorist rumor thing, but the bridge appeared to be missing, sealed off somehow from the rest of the boat. He couldn't find it anywhere. His idea had been to come back in here and fiddle with the wires again, see if he could get at least part of the system working - enough to radio the captain - but it was no use. He checked to make sure the volume on Juan's wireless radio was up all the way. It was. He sighed.
Suddenly, he heard a yelp and a clatter from somewhere nearby. It sounded like someone had been hurt. Xander walked cautiously to the door and glanced out into the dark hallway. There was a light on in the ballroom next door. He turned to look inside that room and found a girl cussing under her breath, her hand held up to the back of her head.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked her. He spotted the spilled paint pan on the floor. Right. One guess what had happened.
Startled, she glanced up at him, then grimaced. "There was paint. Like, on the ceiling fan or something," she said. "Who puts paint on a fan where it could just, like, fall on anybody's head? I mean, who does that?" She looked at her blue hand and frowned.
"I agree, it's totally unprofessional," said Xander.
"Ugh, now it's all in my hair." The girl put her hand back up to her head in disgust.
"Oh, but didn't you hear? Blue hair's in now. It's the cool new thing." At the girl's slight eyebrow-raise, Xander ducked his head a little and gestured at his own hair. "Not exactly the recommendation of my stylist, but I'm coming to terms with it. I've decided to think of it as a free makeover."
"So the same thing happened to you? That's ridiculous. We should totally sue."
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far..."
"I mean, obviously, these paint people have no idea what they're doing." She gestured around. "I can't believe they just left everything like--"
"Look, it's been a long week and they're shorthanded, okay?" interrupted Xander.
The girl looked at him.
"I mean." He shifted on his feet. "I've heard. That."
"Whatever," she muttered. Suddenly she looked up and asked, "Do you smell lemons?"
Xander sighed. "Why were you on this side of the boat, anyway?" he asked. "It's not being used tonight."
"Looking for a vending machine," the girl said. "I'm about to starve." Then she added, "And now I guess I'm looking for a bathroom so I can get this mess out of my hair."
"There's a couple of vending machines and bathrooms near the..." Xander paused. "You know, it would probably be faster if I just showed you. I mean, if you don't mind walking around a boat with a strange blue-haired guy you just met."
She shrugged. "I've done stranger things in stranger places. With stranger people. I'm Jessica, by the way." The girl stuck out her hand. It was blue.
Xander took it. They both winced as their hands came into squishy contact. "Xander," he sighed. "Nice to meet you."
***
Angel dropped the head of another blue-haired demon on top of its own body, swallowing uncomfortably. So far, he'd managed to kill ten of these things, bitten seven of them, and the traces of acidic gold blood he'd accidentally consumed had set his mouth on fire. His burning tongue was slightly swollen and his lips were numb. He'd wiped most of the blood from his hands, but there was still a painful tingle racing across his skin wherever the blood had touched him, and it was eating through his clothes. He was incredibly uncomfortable. He had some minor injuries from fighting, and there were still at least two demons left to get rid of, he knew, but he had to admit this fiery itchiness currently trumped all else. He needed to get out of these clothes, and he needed to do it fast. Also, a shower wouldn't be amiss.
His tongue really hurt.
Angel had picked up the trail of the last pair of demons earlier - it seemed to lead toward the gift shop for some reason - but the thought of another battle in his current condition was extremely unpleasant. He walked briskly in the opposite direction, glancing about for a supply closet or something, where he might find some available custodial coveralls or even a complimentary guest bathrobe. Honestly, ANYthing would be better than what he was wearing.
When he finally came across a door marked STAFF ONLY, Angel quickly slipped inside. The sight of a long, brown robe hanging from an otherwise empty clothing rack was both a surprise and a relief.
***
"So, basically," Jessica said, and Xander thought she sounded a tad skeptical, "you couldn't fix the com system and got accidentally stranded on a boat for five hours with blue paint in your hair, I've got food poisoning and will probably be fired from my job because I can't perform tonight, also with blue paint in my hair, and there's a scantily clad crazy woman running around the boat with a bag of guns... but our biggest problem here is a naked guy named Steve?"
"That's about the size of it," said Xander. He was leading her down a hallway toward the ballroom where the auction was taking place. Two men in security guard uniforms were standing outside the door to the auction room. If Xander remembered correctly, there were some vending machines around the corner from here. There should also be some restrooms nearby.
"I had no idea the naked guy was a terrorist," said Jessica. "I mean, he definitely wasn't the nicest person I've ever met, but he didn't seem all that terroristic to me."
"Wait, you met this guy?"
"Sort of. He barged into one of the staterooms just in time to watch me puke in a trashcan."
"Oh. Wow," said Xander. "One of you showed up naked and the other one barfed. Would you believe I've got an even more awkward first date story than that?"
"I'm assuming this was the same naked guy you're talking about," she went on. "There probably wouldn't be two guys running around here naked on the same night, right?"
"This is my first casino cruise," Xander replied. "I have no idea what it's normally like, but so far in my experience, there's always at least one naked guy and one scantily clad woman running around the boat, one hundred percent of the time. So the idea of another Lord Godiva around here? Not exactly shocking me."
Jessica glanced at him thoughtfully as they walked. They were nearing the two security guards. "That actually makes a weird kind of sense," she said.
"So, this naked guy. When you sort of met him. He didn't, you know, make with the terrorizing?"
She considered. "Not really."
"Huh. Is it possible that you were too busy puking to notice? No, I... I guess not," Xander concluded from her expression. "Unless he's just a more subtle terrorist than you'd normally encounter on a--"
"You there!" a loud voice interrupted him. "Halt!"
Xander and Jessica stopped in surprise and turned around. They had just passed the two security guards stationed outside of the auction room and were now standing about ten feet away from them. The guards were staring at them. "You mean us?" asked Xander. He glanced around. They were the only people there. "Are you talking to... us?"
***
KR491 raked his visual perception sensors over the two confused humanoids, confirming that their hair did in fact reflect the color of light that his information processor was programmed to recognize as blue. But he did not reach for his weapon yet. There was one other parameter the blue-haired humanoids must meet before he could accurately classify them as the Phlegethonite enemy.
"Please remain where you are for one moment," he told them. Then he turned toward KR527. "527," he asked, lowering his volume for close-proximity communication, "do you smell lemons?"
***
"Lilac to Blackbird. Come in, Blackbird. Do you copy?" Riley was standing in an inconspicuous corner of the game room, his wristwatch raised to his mouth. Several more people had gathered around his gaming table, and he watched them from across the room, animatedly discussing the so-called terrorist situation, spurred on by the card dealer named Jeff. The two old ladies were fiddling with a cell phone. The LAPD would probably be taking action at any moment. Shit.
"Acknowledged, Lilac. This is Blackbird. Report. Over."
Riley sighed. "We have a code red situation on Persephone," he reported. "Witnesses have identified both Phlegethonites and human terrorists on board. Over."
There was a short pause, and then, "Lilac, please confirm the words 'human terrorists.' Over."
"Confirmed. Human terrorists. Also, the toys are missing. Repeat, the toys are out of play. Possibly confiscated by the terrorists or the Phlegethonites. Over."
"Acknowledged, Lilac. Stand by for orders."
"Standing by," said Riley. He dropped his wrist down and looked over at the cluster of gossipmongers again. There's no way this was going to end well.
***
"What do you mean, you're not coming?" Agnes was a little hard of hearing in her right ear, but she was pretty sure that's what the police officer had said. "Listen, sonny, didn't you understand me? There's a terrorist on this boat. And he's naked." Her call had been transferred from one officer to another so many different times that she wasn't even sure this one knew what was going on.
"They're not coming?" asked Beatrice, squinting. "Did you say they're not coming?"
"He said they're not coming!" Agnes informed her. She turned her attention back to the cell at her ear. "TERRORIST," she sounded out clearly into the phone. "Do you hear me? TERRORIST."
"So they're not coming, then." Beatrice would have looked horrified if she hadn't been squinting so hard.
"I don't know how to say it any clearer," Agnes said. "TERRORIST. Oh, I think I'm... I think I'm on hold again."
"Did you tell them he's naked?"
"I'm on hold again, Bea."
Beatrice took the phone and put it to her own ear. "TER. ROR. IST," she said carefully. Then she held the phone in front of her, squinting at it. "Is this thing on?"
"I can't believe they would decide not to come," said Agnes. "He said they were monitoring the situation. What does that mean, monitoring the situation?"
"It means they're not coming."
"Well, I never!"
"Try someone else," said Beatrice.
"Alright. Who?" Agnes stared at her phone.
"Oh," said Bea, squinting. "How about that nice young man at the news station?"
"You mean Channel Nine News?"
"Yes, that's the one."
Agnes nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I always thought he was such a sweetheart."
***
Xander and Jessica glanced at each other. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.
"I have no idea," Xander whispered. They were still standing several feet away from the guards, waiting to be told what to do. Although the guards were speaking softly, he could hear them talking to one another. They seemed to be debating about which smell was stronger, lemons or paint. "Uh, guys?" he called to them. "What's this about?"
"One moment, please," the first guard directed at him before whispering with the other guard again. Finally, they appeared to come to a decision. Both guards reached over their shoulders and grabbed hold of their giant, gun-shaped... guns.
And proceeded to aim them at Xander and Jessica.
"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Xander asked, putting his hands up in front of him, eyes wide. People really needed to stop aiming guns at him tonight. Jessica had gasped and put her hands up as well.
The first guard flipped a small switch on his giant gun and looked up pleasantly at Xander. "Our orders are to terminate the Class 6 demons designated Phlegethonites immediately upon contact," he explained. "Please wait while our electro-pulse weapons gain a charge significant enough to kill you."
"Kill us?" Xander repeated, stunned. "You're going to kill us?"
"Yes," said the guard.
"Why? What did we do?"
"You are a Phlegethonite."
"No, I'm not!" protested Xander. To be fair, since he didn't know what a Phlegethonite was, he couldn't be sure that he was telling the truth - but he was willing to take a chance. "And she isn't one either!"
"Do you deny that you are humanoid in shape with blue streaks in your hair and an odor of lemons?"
"I..." Xander couldn't believe this was happening. "You're going to kill me because I smell like lemons?"
"This is wack," a frightened Jessica murmured beside him, her hands still in the air. "This is so wack..."
The other guard addressed her. "The electric current from this weapon will be sufficient to shut down your primary organ functions," he explained. "Your heart will explode within three seconds of contact." He glanced down at the weapon. "Full charge in fifteen seconds."
Fifteen seconds. Either these guys had a truly terrible sense of humor, or Xander and Jessica were going to die in fifteen seconds. Xander glanced behind him at the end of the hallway. It curved around toward where the vending machines were supposed to be, as well as the bathrooms and the staircase that would lead up to the first deck. The game rooms were also in that direction. He wasn't certain, but Xander guessed that he could probably make it at least around the corner in fifteen seconds.
Without sparing the time to come up with a witty parting comment, and trying not to dwell too long on the memories he had of losing every single race he'd ever entered, Xander quickly grabbed Jessica's arm and took off running as fast as he could.
"Halt!" the first guard called after them, but Xander continued to run, dashing around the corner and dragging the stunned young woman behind him. The two guards gave chase. Suddenly, Xander heard a high-pitched buzzing noise that sounded suspiciously like the full-power alert of a very large electro-pulse gun. He shoved Jessica around the side of one of the vending machines (hey, he was right; here they were) and ducked after her just as two powerful bolts of electricity crackled out of the guards' guns and zapped the machine they were hiding behind.
Blue sparks shot out of the machine in every direction as the two of them huddled together a few inches away, trying not to touch it. They watched as the large plastic picture of a blue Powerade bottle began to melt before the pulse ended.
"Holy shit," Xander whispered. "They're really trying to kill us."
Jessica simply turned her head to the side and threw up a little bit.
***
Continued [here].
***
Title: Terror Aboard the Persephone! (Part Seven)
Author: girlpire
Rating: PG-13 (or FRT)
Characters: Angel, Spike, Gunn, Connor, Wesley, Xander, Riley, and Kate, plus more OC's than you will probably be comfortable with.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: A series of highly improbable coincidences aboard a cruise ship makes stopping this particular apocalypse a bit more complicated than usual for the fang gang.
Author's Notes: This story takes place at some ambiguous point during season five of AtS. Spike is solid, Connor doesn't know who Angel is, and Xander is both-eyed and didn't participate in the BtVS comics. The entire fic spans the course of about five hours.
[Part 1]
[Part 2]
[Part 3]
[Part 4]
[Part 5]
[Part 6]
***
Terror Aboard the Persephone!
Part Seven
***
Jessica was hungry. Puking always did that to her, and she'd actually thrown up once more while Connor was gone, leaning over the small trash can while the hot naked man in socks watched awkwardly from the doorway, dismay written across his face. Probably why he'd been in such a hurry to leave.
Now her stomach was growling insistently as she rinsed out her mouth in the bathroom and drank a few swallows of water. She didn't want to eat anything that would possibly unsettle her stomach even more, but she could probably down some crackers or something from a vending machine without a problem. She still felt a little queasy, but well enough to scout out some food. Jess briefly finger-combed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror before heading toward the door that led out of the stateroom. She might even be back before Connor.
After sneaking past the guard, which was a lot easier to do than it should have been, Jess went off in search of a vending machine. Despite having worked on the Persephone for a few months, she wasn't that sure of the layout. It was a very large ship. She knew they'd gone down some stairs to get to the staterooms, so she went up some stairs to get back to the casino deck, but she wasn't sure what direction to go from there. She ended up in a part of the ship that she was pretty sure wasn't being used tonight, since the lights were all off.
She wandered into a smallish ballroom in the dark, hoping that she'd be able to tell what room it was and therefore orient herself inside the ship that way, but it was even darker in this room than it had been in the hallway. And it kind of smelled like paint. She flipped a couple of switches on the wall to turn the lights on. Oh, she thought, glancing around the half-finished room. That explains the paint smell.
A ceiling fan had come on as well, but Jessica didn't really notice. After deciding that nothing in the room looked familiar to her, she turned toward to door to leave. So she had her back to the room during the ceiling fan's eighth spin, which is when the fan finally flung off the pan of paint that had been balanced on one of its blades earlier in the evening. The paint pan hit her squarely in the back of the head before falling to the floor with a clatter.
Jessica let out a pained yelp and stumbled a little bit in surprise, her hand flying up to touch where she'd been hit. It came away sticky and wet, and her immediate thought was that she was bleeding profusely, but one look at her hand confirmed it was just paint. Bright blue paint. Which was now running down her hair.
***
Xander was in the small ballroom where he'd spent most of the day already, studying the wires that were hanging out of the wall. He'd tried to go talk to the captain about this whole terrorist rumor thing, but the bridge appeared to be missing, sealed off somehow from the rest of the boat. He couldn't find it anywhere. His idea had been to come back in here and fiddle with the wires again, see if he could get at least part of the system working - enough to radio the captain - but it was no use. He checked to make sure the volume on Juan's wireless radio was up all the way. It was. He sighed.
Suddenly, he heard a yelp and a clatter from somewhere nearby. It sounded like someone had been hurt. Xander walked cautiously to the door and glanced out into the dark hallway. There was a light on in the ballroom next door. He turned to look inside that room and found a girl cussing under her breath, her hand held up to the back of her head.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked her. He spotted the spilled paint pan on the floor. Right. One guess what had happened.
Startled, she glanced up at him, then grimaced. "There was paint. Like, on the ceiling fan or something," she said. "Who puts paint on a fan where it could just, like, fall on anybody's head? I mean, who does that?" She looked at her blue hand and frowned.
"I agree, it's totally unprofessional," said Xander.
"Ugh, now it's all in my hair." The girl put her hand back up to her head in disgust.
"Oh, but didn't you hear? Blue hair's in now. It's the cool new thing." At the girl's slight eyebrow-raise, Xander ducked his head a little and gestured at his own hair. "Not exactly the recommendation of my stylist, but I'm coming to terms with it. I've decided to think of it as a free makeover."
"So the same thing happened to you? That's ridiculous. We should totally sue."
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far..."
"I mean, obviously, these paint people have no idea what they're doing." She gestured around. "I can't believe they just left everything like--"
"Look, it's been a long week and they're shorthanded, okay?" interrupted Xander.
The girl looked at him.
"I mean." He shifted on his feet. "I've heard. That."
"Whatever," she muttered. Suddenly she looked up and asked, "Do you smell lemons?"
Xander sighed. "Why were you on this side of the boat, anyway?" he asked. "It's not being used tonight."
"Looking for a vending machine," the girl said. "I'm about to starve." Then she added, "And now I guess I'm looking for a bathroom so I can get this mess out of my hair."
"There's a couple of vending machines and bathrooms near the..." Xander paused. "You know, it would probably be faster if I just showed you. I mean, if you don't mind walking around a boat with a strange blue-haired guy you just met."
She shrugged. "I've done stranger things in stranger places. With stranger people. I'm Jessica, by the way." The girl stuck out her hand. It was blue.
Xander took it. They both winced as their hands came into squishy contact. "Xander," he sighed. "Nice to meet you."
***
Angel dropped the head of another blue-haired demon on top of its own body, swallowing uncomfortably. So far, he'd managed to kill ten of these things, bitten seven of them, and the traces of acidic gold blood he'd accidentally consumed had set his mouth on fire. His burning tongue was slightly swollen and his lips were numb. He'd wiped most of the blood from his hands, but there was still a painful tingle racing across his skin wherever the blood had touched him, and it was eating through his clothes. He was incredibly uncomfortable. He had some minor injuries from fighting, and there were still at least two demons left to get rid of, he knew, but he had to admit this fiery itchiness currently trumped all else. He needed to get out of these clothes, and he needed to do it fast. Also, a shower wouldn't be amiss.
His tongue really hurt.
Angel had picked up the trail of the last pair of demons earlier - it seemed to lead toward the gift shop for some reason - but the thought of another battle in his current condition was extremely unpleasant. He walked briskly in the opposite direction, glancing about for a supply closet or something, where he might find some available custodial coveralls or even a complimentary guest bathrobe. Honestly, ANYthing would be better than what he was wearing.
When he finally came across a door marked STAFF ONLY, Angel quickly slipped inside. The sight of a long, brown robe hanging from an otherwise empty clothing rack was both a surprise and a relief.
***
"So, basically," Jessica said, and Xander thought she sounded a tad skeptical, "you couldn't fix the com system and got accidentally stranded on a boat for five hours with blue paint in your hair, I've got food poisoning and will probably be fired from my job because I can't perform tonight, also with blue paint in my hair, and there's a scantily clad crazy woman running around the boat with a bag of guns... but our biggest problem here is a naked guy named Steve?"
"That's about the size of it," said Xander. He was leading her down a hallway toward the ballroom where the auction was taking place. Two men in security guard uniforms were standing outside the door to the auction room. If Xander remembered correctly, there were some vending machines around the corner from here. There should also be some restrooms nearby.
"I had no idea the naked guy was a terrorist," said Jessica. "I mean, he definitely wasn't the nicest person I've ever met, but he didn't seem all that terroristic to me."
"Wait, you met this guy?"
"Sort of. He barged into one of the staterooms just in time to watch me puke in a trashcan."
"Oh. Wow," said Xander. "One of you showed up naked and the other one barfed. Would you believe I've got an even more awkward first date story than that?"
"I'm assuming this was the same naked guy you're talking about," she went on. "There probably wouldn't be two guys running around here naked on the same night, right?"
"This is my first casino cruise," Xander replied. "I have no idea what it's normally like, but so far in my experience, there's always at least one naked guy and one scantily clad woman running around the boat, one hundred percent of the time. So the idea of another Lord Godiva around here? Not exactly shocking me."
Jessica glanced at him thoughtfully as they walked. They were nearing the two security guards. "That actually makes a weird kind of sense," she said.
"So, this naked guy. When you sort of met him. He didn't, you know, make with the terrorizing?"
She considered. "Not really."
"Huh. Is it possible that you were too busy puking to notice? No, I... I guess not," Xander concluded from her expression. "Unless he's just a more subtle terrorist than you'd normally encounter on a--"
"You there!" a loud voice interrupted him. "Halt!"
Xander and Jessica stopped in surprise and turned around. They had just passed the two security guards stationed outside of the auction room and were now standing about ten feet away from them. The guards were staring at them. "You mean us?" asked Xander. He glanced around. They were the only people there. "Are you talking to... us?"
***
KR491 raked his visual perception sensors over the two confused humanoids, confirming that their hair did in fact reflect the color of light that his information processor was programmed to recognize as blue. But he did not reach for his weapon yet. There was one other parameter the blue-haired humanoids must meet before he could accurately classify them as the Phlegethonite enemy.
"Please remain where you are for one moment," he told them. Then he turned toward KR527. "527," he asked, lowering his volume for close-proximity communication, "do you smell lemons?"
***
"Lilac to Blackbird. Come in, Blackbird. Do you copy?" Riley was standing in an inconspicuous corner of the game room, his wristwatch raised to his mouth. Several more people had gathered around his gaming table, and he watched them from across the room, animatedly discussing the so-called terrorist situation, spurred on by the card dealer named Jeff. The two old ladies were fiddling with a cell phone. The LAPD would probably be taking action at any moment. Shit.
"Acknowledged, Lilac. This is Blackbird. Report. Over."
Riley sighed. "We have a code red situation on Persephone," he reported. "Witnesses have identified both Phlegethonites and human terrorists on board. Over."
There was a short pause, and then, "Lilac, please confirm the words 'human terrorists.' Over."
"Confirmed. Human terrorists. Also, the toys are missing. Repeat, the toys are out of play. Possibly confiscated by the terrorists or the Phlegethonites. Over."
"Acknowledged, Lilac. Stand by for orders."
"Standing by," said Riley. He dropped his wrist down and looked over at the cluster of gossipmongers again. There's no way this was going to end well.
***
"What do you mean, you're not coming?" Agnes was a little hard of hearing in her right ear, but she was pretty sure that's what the police officer had said. "Listen, sonny, didn't you understand me? There's a terrorist on this boat. And he's naked." Her call had been transferred from one officer to another so many different times that she wasn't even sure this one knew what was going on.
"They're not coming?" asked Beatrice, squinting. "Did you say they're not coming?"
"He said they're not coming!" Agnes informed her. She turned her attention back to the cell at her ear. "TERRORIST," she sounded out clearly into the phone. "Do you hear me? TERRORIST."
"So they're not coming, then." Beatrice would have looked horrified if she hadn't been squinting so hard.
"I don't know how to say it any clearer," Agnes said. "TERRORIST. Oh, I think I'm... I think I'm on hold again."
"Did you tell them he's naked?"
"I'm on hold again, Bea."
Beatrice took the phone and put it to her own ear. "TER. ROR. IST," she said carefully. Then she held the phone in front of her, squinting at it. "Is this thing on?"
"I can't believe they would decide not to come," said Agnes. "He said they were monitoring the situation. What does that mean, monitoring the situation?"
"It means they're not coming."
"Well, I never!"
"Try someone else," said Beatrice.
"Alright. Who?" Agnes stared at her phone.
"Oh," said Bea, squinting. "How about that nice young man at the news station?"
"You mean Channel Nine News?"
"Yes, that's the one."
Agnes nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I always thought he was such a sweetheart."
***
Xander and Jessica glanced at each other. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.
"I have no idea," Xander whispered. They were still standing several feet away from the guards, waiting to be told what to do. Although the guards were speaking softly, he could hear them talking to one another. They seemed to be debating about which smell was stronger, lemons or paint. "Uh, guys?" he called to them. "What's this about?"
"One moment, please," the first guard directed at him before whispering with the other guard again. Finally, they appeared to come to a decision. Both guards reached over their shoulders and grabbed hold of their giant, gun-shaped... guns.
And proceeded to aim them at Xander and Jessica.
"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Xander asked, putting his hands up in front of him, eyes wide. People really needed to stop aiming guns at him tonight. Jessica had gasped and put her hands up as well.
The first guard flipped a small switch on his giant gun and looked up pleasantly at Xander. "Our orders are to terminate the Class 6 demons designated Phlegethonites immediately upon contact," he explained. "Please wait while our electro-pulse weapons gain a charge significant enough to kill you."
"Kill us?" Xander repeated, stunned. "You're going to kill us?"
"Yes," said the guard.
"Why? What did we do?"
"You are a Phlegethonite."
"No, I'm not!" protested Xander. To be fair, since he didn't know what a Phlegethonite was, he couldn't be sure that he was telling the truth - but he was willing to take a chance. "And she isn't one either!"
"Do you deny that you are humanoid in shape with blue streaks in your hair and an odor of lemons?"
"I..." Xander couldn't believe this was happening. "You're going to kill me because I smell like lemons?"
"This is wack," a frightened Jessica murmured beside him, her hands still in the air. "This is so wack..."
The other guard addressed her. "The electric current from this weapon will be sufficient to shut down your primary organ functions," he explained. "Your heart will explode within three seconds of contact." He glanced down at the weapon. "Full charge in fifteen seconds."
Fifteen seconds. Either these guys had a truly terrible sense of humor, or Xander and Jessica were going to die in fifteen seconds. Xander glanced behind him at the end of the hallway. It curved around toward where the vending machines were supposed to be, as well as the bathrooms and the staircase that would lead up to the first deck. The game rooms were also in that direction. He wasn't certain, but Xander guessed that he could probably make it at least around the corner in fifteen seconds.
Without sparing the time to come up with a witty parting comment, and trying not to dwell too long on the memories he had of losing every single race he'd ever entered, Xander quickly grabbed Jessica's arm and took off running as fast as he could.
"Halt!" the first guard called after them, but Xander continued to run, dashing around the corner and dragging the stunned young woman behind him. The two guards gave chase. Suddenly, Xander heard a high-pitched buzzing noise that sounded suspiciously like the full-power alert of a very large electro-pulse gun. He shoved Jessica around the side of one of the vending machines (hey, he was right; here they were) and ducked after her just as two powerful bolts of electricity crackled out of the guards' guns and zapped the machine they were hiding behind.
Blue sparks shot out of the machine in every direction as the two of them huddled together a few inches away, trying not to touch it. They watched as the large plastic picture of a blue Powerade bottle began to melt before the pulse ended.
"Holy shit," Xander whispered. "They're really trying to kill us."
Jessica simply turned her head to the side and threw up a little bit.
***
Continued [here].
***
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 11:02 am (UTC)Good luck with the wedding.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 11:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 06:07 pm (UTC)And now all the players are in costume! I'm rubbing my hands together with absolute glee.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 06:52 pm (UTC)*marvels*
Okay we have our principals in costume - now to get them on stage. :)
no subject
Date: 2009-06-19 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 04:57 am (UTC)Looks like everyone is in costume, can't wait to see how it *plays* out.
;~)))))))))))))))
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 05:45 pm (UTC)"Please wait while our electro-pulse weapons gain a charge significant enough to kill you."
Hee.
And the media are on their way...
This story is awesome. I am in awe.
no subject
Date: 2009-06-20 07:08 pm (UTC)Fabulous!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 12:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-21 07:23 pm (UTC)I really hope our remaining two Phlegethonites are going to make it :).