Spoilers!
Spoilers!!!
Spoilers!!!!
This idea was borne out of late in the Escaflowne series, so
it'll 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))
(although you really do have to concentrate to know it's Escaflowne in
the first place!)
(insert std. Fanfiction disclaimer)
Desert Hyena
chp1
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.
Then he went for inside, where it was more lively.
�Now there�s a new one,� he thought to himself, entering.
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
clamping on his shoulder intervened.
"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 them," 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 was
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, but I knew if we flinched I was gonna get it."
"So I told her since she killed them, she could have the pick of
those dead Burzoe�s�s bikes. And she was still smiling.... 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 turd, 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."
{begin author commentary}
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 on Earth. 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.
Chapter 2
I remember, I think it was his idea. He�s usually content while
we ride.
Riding for a long time. A little dust kicks off from the tire,
jerks sideways as it meets the wind. Makes a tan angle behind the bike
in front of mine. It thickens, changes shape. Now a plume curved to
the left side of the road. Turn.
It expands, merges with the others. I am in it. I bring the
cloth across my face, breathe easier. Crack, to the left of the
roadbed. Expands, yawns, narrows. I watch it snake onto the road,
over towards me. I feel it creep under my wheels then go back. It
gains companions. We slow down.
The wind is less, we cut right, slow riding. Into a still,
crashing sea of rock. Red and tan waves curling about us. Now flat,
calm, barren. Manlowe, Gorl, J, he met them here. I only remember the
riding, far away already. And before, walking in the desert�. but here
again, I know where I am. I care where I am. He�s excited, I�m glad
for him.
Up-grade, feel the motor live more as the wind changes. Onto a
ledge in a box canyon. The machine there; it is like the motorcycles,
only more. I get off my bike. I recognize it. I�ve never seen it.
I am excited. I can�t wait to get to work.
He is excited: I feel his joy of reunion with his home and
counterpart. I feel the vibrant anticipation of fighting again. I
thrust my arm out, stopping myself on a boulder and biting my lip.
Muscles tight enough to give pain. I won�t scream. I care where I am
now, I know where I am. He should know it would be better if it were
fully repaired first.
Breathing ragged, I strain, lift my eyes to the craft. I know
what each and every thing can do. He�s seen what each and every thing
can do. I will repair it, please�there. I straighten and walk on.
I still feel him peering through my eyes.
The others seem astonished. I open the front hatch and climb
in to get a better look at what�s intact.
*******
The place was about as damm forlorn as Bill had described it.
We were hours off the main road, in BLM land nobody would want. Floods
real nasty, looks like. Anyway, bad enough I didn't want to bring my
bike in there. _She_ garunteed it'd be worth our time, and Bill backed
her up. Otherwise�hell!
So we got in this canyon and up on a ledge way up there, damm if
we don't see what she'd meant by her other bike. This _robot_ ,y'know,
looked like something a big alien would use for a spacesuit.
Cherry-red, some scorch marks, 25, 30 feet tall. She jumped right in
while most of us were still standing there with our mouths open.
Anyway, by the time she was back out and going for the toolkit,
us boys were getting to talking. Even our fine Willy Manlowe didn't
like it. I mean, it just doesn't add up. It's got to've been military
or something, and her with it out in a place like that?
*[I have a draft of several different things he might say next, but they
all suck] (help me on this one folks)
******
This is a dream for me. I remember, we were going for it, we
were going to have it repaired. And suddenly here it is, my Arisiedes!
In much better condition than I would have expected from being out in
this wasted land.
*[this section is also incomplete]
And these motorcycles! Oh they're nothing like Melefs, but very
quick. And so much simpler in construction. If I had an energist and
some parts I'm sure Garraty could have rigged one for it in�.well. My
new comrades (I'm only superior now, not in command) are much better.
The Dragon Slayers didn't have their hearts in it. These men do. I
think they appreciate me more. These are just like the good old days.
Better. There's something interesting to do every second.
Well, that part does bother me. One moment I'm savoring the
embers of a cabin we torched, the next, I'm somewhere else, with new foes
set before me to fight and kill. It's like I'm only living the best of
life, eh? Why question this wonderful fortune I have?
And where am I now? I'm in my Melef. I am repairing it. I
am so skillful, I don't even have to think about it.
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