Spoilers!
Spoilers!!!
Spoilers!!!!

This idea was borne out of late in the Escaflowne series, so it may
contain some spoilers if you care.   (IE don't read a word further,
anyone who doesn't want some of the dankest secrets of Escaflowne
revealed))
warning:shot out quickly, but motercyclist grammer is intentionally bad.
(insert std. Fanfiction disclaimer)

	Leroy, an unusually aggressive-looking Yatusk, (Yatusk: indigenous to a
particularly nasty area of Siberia.   For an accurate image, take a
Mongol and make him shorter and more broad)   put the kickstand down on
his dusty motorcycle, next to many others, all well-loved.   The
truck-stop was clear of its title clientele: they knew enough to avoid
the place when it was full of these particular machines. 
	'Now there's a new one,'   he thought to himself.   Skinny, white
hair.   Red and purple jacket, looked a bit too big for him, but he was
here with the Lizards.   'And nobody's giving him shit.   Yet.'  He went
for where the pallid young man sat at the bar.   A hand clamped on his
shoulder.   
	"Don't fuck with her, Leroy.   Not just cause she's one of us."
	*her?!*   "Man, she don't got the jacket.   I don't see how�.." 
	"An exception.   And I'll make an exception for you, with your high
capacity to piss people off, my friend.  Let's have a beer."   The two
bikers sat further down at the bar.   
	"So what's her story, man?"   Leroy observed her oblivious stare.   "I
mean, she's either tripping or watching the cockroaches.   Why ain't
nobody here messing with her?   And she's in?  I mean, she's in?"
	"See the sword?"   Unconcealed by the large jacket was a hilt.   
	"Yea."
	"We found her in the desert, with three bikes and three of Burzoe's
hacked up so bad we could barely tell they were Burzoe's.    She was
watching some insect crawl over a rock�."
	"Man, that just _proves_ she's fucked up.   Somebody else coulda' done
Burzoe's guys."
	"Well, we didn't notice much of her first, mostly gaping at those poor
bastards on the ground.   Then somebody noticed there was a live body
around."
	"So I said, 'hey kid, what the hell happened?'   When she didn't do
anything, I grabbed her and turned her around.   She looked at me, real
scared baby blues," he gestured toward his eyes," I asked her again, and
she shut 'em and screamed.  I grabbed her other shoulder so she couldn't
get away.   Then she opened 'em," the biker gestured toward his eyes
again," and they were red.   And they weren't scared either.   I almost
let go before she decided to kick me.   So just like that she got six
feet from me and�"
	"What the fuck, man.   You let her do that?  Why the hell is she�"
	"Man, I'm getting to that.   So none of us had noticed she has this
sword, I don't know how.   She pulled it out; a frickin' katana, man.  
Some drops of something hit my face, then I noticed the blade was red
and dripping.   And she asked 'How many more of you do I get to kill?'
And there we were, just standing around."
	"A few seconds later, it was, 'I'll take my chances parrying that.'  
She was talkin' to J, who had his gun out, man, hell!   We were all on
the edge, man, but I knew if we flinched I was gonna get it."
	"So I told her since she killed 'em, she could have the pick of those
dead Burzoe's's bikes.   And she was still smiling, man, like killing me
would be a drug, and J was ready to take her head off."   
	"'You fight them?' she asks, and it takes us a bit to recover but we
figure she's talking about the Burzoe's.   So we tell her yes and she
asks if she can too."
	"From there on it was OK.   She looked at the bike she picked like it
was some kind of alien, but she understood it quick enough.   And when
we got to Pasco she was like this again."
	"Holy shit, so she killed those Burzoe's?"   The other man nodded.  
"That's fucked up, man, she's schitzo or something like that, huh?"   
	"And that's why we don't fuck with her."
	"So if she's OK why ain't she jiving.   I mean�"
	"If she ain't ready to kill, she doesn't say a word.   But she helps
out with the motorcycles like she grew up bunking with a transmission.  
We understand her well enough then.   She's killed six more, never with
a gun.   And two of ours when they wanted to get with her.   I can
respect that."
	Leroy put his beer down and looked Manlowe straight in the eye.  "Are
you fucking with me, man?"
	"Do you think anybody'd let her have that jacket?   It's your funeral,
and we'll let her do it."   
	Leroy looked down the bar at the thin girl.   She was looking away, out
the window at the desert beyond.   A small smile crept on her face.  
Somehow, her jacket looked like it was fitting better.   
	She turned and seemed to be looking right at him, insane red eyes
blazing.   Some of the lizards noticed, and looked to be waiting for
something.  
	"I have an idea, Manlowe.   Let's go look for my 'other' bike."

Yea, alright, the thing I'm most pissed about in Escaflowne is the
episode after Dilandeau and Hitomi both get taken away in a column of
light.   I thought something really cool like Dilandeau (in either of
his/her forms)  encountering Hitomi was going to happen.   That would
have just been�.interesting�..
	I am writing something to that effect, but this particular piece is a
result of asking. "Could Dilandeau find a place to belong on Earth?"  
So the column of light touches down in an American desert, not too far
from some unsavory types.   
C+C welcome, and all that business.   
				Yarrow