Naito Raida ikari@wantree.net.au
if that address doesn't work, try
ikari@chariot.net.au
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Queen Serenity's smile disappeared from her face and she
considered her daughter for a moment, making Usagi feel
uncomfortable. "Then...." The Queen paused, then reached over to
touch Usagi's face. "Why are you hiding this change, deep within?"
"Change?" Usagi looked at Queen Serenity's fingers, feeling a
little uncomfortable. She placed a hand on her chest. "I'm.. not
hiding anything. That I aware of."
"Awareness, in your case, is not always a conscious thing.
You gave away some of your power to a beast born from darkness, yet
felt none of the drain that that should have had on your system."
"It wasn't that much. Really." Usagi swallowed. "It should
only keep her going a few days, anyway, until we find her some
alternative form of energy. Besides, the Ginzuishou magnifies the
energy I give out, which would account for everything. Wouldn't
it?"
"Yes...." Queen Serenity took her hand away. "Yes. It
might. But not in this case. The energy that beast received should
keep her going for a month or more." Her tone became almost
lecturing. "Besides the argument of supplying a creature like that
with life energy. They are parasites, living off of others without
giving anything in return."
"But she isn't like that." Usagi clenched her fists, angrily.
"Really. She's not like the other Youma. She's really different."
"In your mind, yes. You forget, I have seen the darkness that
dwells within the hearts of many. That darkness feeds on life like
the Youma. A deep, insatiable appetite...." Her voice trailed off,
then she snapped to. "Anyway, it is your decision. I am no longer
in a position to tell you what to do, but I can guide you and advise
you. That is why I am here. I have taken some interest in your
recent activities, concerning the young girl, Takimi Miki."
"Advise?" Usagi cleared her throat. "I'm doing a fine job
looking after her, if you mind. Don't think, just because I'm
younger than you, that I can't be as good a mother as you." Usagi
puffed up her chest, trying to press her point. Queen Serenity was
having none of it, though.
"You're simply trying to prove something, not only to
yourself, but to everyone around you." She wagged a finger in
Usagi's face. "Trying to make up for the failures of the past.
And it won't work, you know. You've done this before. I can show
you, if you like, the disbalance that can occur between your concern
for the individual and your role as a member of the royal line...."
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BISHOUJO SENSHI SAILORMOON / TAIHO SHICHAUZO
NOT A GOD
by nIGHT rIDER (Assistance by DDFA)
Disclaimer - all characters pertaining to the series Bishoujo Senshi
Sailormoon and Taiho Shichauzo are owned by Takeuchi Naoko,
Fujishima Kosuke, Bandai, TBS, and Kodansya. All other characters
were thought up by me. Well, it's true, isn't it?
Chapter 13
Rumbling Along
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Natsumi wished she had restrained herself from drinking so
much. Now the dreams were even more lucid than before, and she had
seen two versions of that girl, wandering past her. One even
acknowledged her this time.... Where did all those Kawasaki ZX9R's
and Triumph Super 3 Daytona's go when she really needed them?
She had to get a grip. Next thing she knew, she was going to
be having regression therapy to find her life's past traumas.... Of
course, she was sure she'd found most of them, already.
She stopped at one of the various atriums that seemed to dot
the length of the hallway and stared upward at the dome. The
artistry that had gone into the carvings that ran along the boundary
between the dome and the ceiling, and up into the pit of the dome,
was supremely intricate.... Certainly more intricate than anything
she had ever seen, even within various government buildings. The
Police Ministry building had had a huge dome within its front
entrance atrium, but that seemed rather dull and lifeless in
comparison to the architecture on display, here. But then, that was
more of a utilitarian copy of something great. This was the real
thing.
She allowed her gaze to lower, following the frescoes that
dropped from where they were precariously hung, to their bases only
feet from the busts and statues that ran along the hallway walls.
The frescoes were, at least in her estimation, not all that
impressive.... Very simple designs and patterns, deliberately set
out to be rather inconspicuous. Despite the apparent importance of
the building she was in, it was clear that people did NOT spend
their time in these corridors to admire its appearance. Or, at the
very least, the owners of the building wanted it to be impressive to
the occasional outsider, but certainly not ostentatious. Maybe they
were embarrassed about showing their wealth.... A bit of a wasted
effort, really, considering everything else.
She crossed her arms, then noticed the cape she was wearing,
covering over what appeared to be a navy blue uniform. She held up
her arms staring at the clothes, wondering why she'd not really
remarked upon it, earlier. Probably too much of an information
overload for her to deal with it. Even within her dreams, she was
stuck in a position of authority. She tried to read the insignia on
the shoulder of the cape, but it was written in a language she had
not seen, before. Not that it would have mattered if she HAD seen
and understood what language it was, since she was patently pathetic
at any language other than Japanese. MODERN Japanese, at that. She
put a hand to her head and groaned, feeling like she was developing
a monumental migraine, and looked around for somewhere to rest a
bit. Rest a bit.... now there was a laugh. She was dreaming that
she needed somewhere to rest.... A state of mind that was almost
self-defeating.
Fortunately, there was a small chair, planted within one of
the small alcoves in the corner of the atrium. It was a very simple
chair, almost out of place in the vastness of its surroundings, and
she wondered why it should have even been there. There certainly
seemed to be no reason for it, although she could imagine that, with
the size of the building, some people would find the distances
between destinations rather exhausting. But still, she hadn't seen
any other chairs in the other atriums. She rolled her eyes and
wandered towards it, realising that she was using too much of her
limited mental energy just thinking about it.
As she approached the centre of the atrium, represented on the
marble floor by a spoked wheel pattern, she could hear running
footsteps, approaching quickly. She turned to her left and could
see a figure approaching, running with an air of desperation. There
were other figures behind the first, all dressed in the same uniform
she was wearing. The situation seemed strangely familiar to her, as
she turned to face the figure, now entering to atrium.
The figure was not looking her way, but back towards the
pursuers, allowing Natsumi to put out her arm and clean them up as
they passed her. The figure was collected across the head and went
flying, feet first, onto the floor with a sickening crash. Natsumi
turned and looked down at the dazed figure, surprised to find that
it was a young boy, perhaps no more than ten or eleven years old,
wearing nothing more than rags for clothes. She stepped alongside
him and knelt down, finding a small cloth sack beside him, having
been dropped in his fall. She opened up the sack and stared at the
contents.
They weren't all that spectacular, but they had to be worth
something.... Opals, barely worked upon, but still quite beautiful.
She ran a finger through the bag, staring at the various colours of
each, then looking down at the dazed boy. "I don't know where you
got these from, boyo, but I don't think you can claim ownership, do
you?" She closed the bag and pulled its string-tie tightly,
standing as the uniformed figures arrived.
"Well done, Third Guardolier." The leader of the three
uniformed figures, a tall woman with blond hair and green eyes,
gestured to her two companions, who immediately ran up to the boy
and lifted him to his feet, pulling his arms behind his back and
cuffing him. One of the two then dragged the dazed boy away as the
leader took Natsumi by the hands, smiling broadly. "We've been
having trouble with thieves in the palace, lately.... Not sure how
and where they're getting in. They're so quick, we haven't been
able to catch one.... Until now." She shook Natsumi's hands so
hard that Natsumi was almost jumping in time.
"Aha... Ahahahahaha...." Natsumi giggled nervously. "No
problem. It's...." She paused, remembering her uniform, and how
the woman had addressed her. "It's my job, after all."
"Commandeer, I've received a message from the investigators."
The second deputy held the collar of her cloak to her ear, listening
to the communication device clipped there. "They say it is possible
that there was more than one in the workshop. Quite a bit of raw
material was taken."
The Commandeer turned from Natsumi to her deputy. "Well, what
should have we expected? Anyway, with this one in our grasp, we can
find out where they're coming from, and who is organising these
theft runs." She paused, then pointed at both Natsumi and the
deputy. "Anyway, we know there was another one in the Gallery.
Second, Third Guardoliers, I want you both to go in through the west
entrance. With any luck, we shall be able to close off that one's
escape routes." She snapped her fingers. "Quickly now." And with
that, she turned with a flourish of her cape and followed the other
deputy.
Natsumi scratched the top of her head, wondering where the
hell the west entrance to the Gallery, whatever it was, would be.
She turned to the deputy, the Second Guardolier, as the Commandeer
had addressed her, hoping to be given some guidance, when her jaw
hit the floor. "Uhh.... Uhhh uhhh..."
"The Palisade is the shortest route there." The Second
Guardolier brushed her braided pigtail over her shoulder before
noticing the way Natsumi was looking at her. "What is it?"
"Mi... Miyuki...?" Natsumi swallowed, pointing at the Second
Guardolier in an almost accusatory fashion. The Second Guardolier
frowned and placed two fingers over her mouth, as if warding off
something.
"Please don't use that name in such a public place.
Familiarity between Guardoliers is considered socially unacceptable.
At least while on duty." She then gripped Natsumi's arm and started
to drag her along one of the hallways. "You should know this, of
course. But then, you have never been one to follow convention,
have you Third Guardolier."
"Yeah, whatever you say." Natsumi's world was starting to
spin. Definitely too much information trying to be processed for
her poor brain to deal with.
----o
The residence had gone quiet, and dark. Arimus wondered if
it had something to do with the 'sleep' that the Sailorsenshi, who
had been placed to guard her, had told her about. She found the
concept of sleep difficult to understand, and had asked her about
it.
Apparently, humans spent a good portion of their life in a
state of unconsciousness. Arimus found this concept rather odd, as
it made them vulnerable to attack from any quarter. Granted, Youma
had their moments of dormancy, but they never allowed themselves to
be in a position where they could be caught unawares.
And to add to her confusion, the Sailorsenshi had caused the
residence to be cast into darkness, with the flick of a switch, thus
making it possible for any enemy to creep up on her within the
shadows. It also made a potential battleground that much more
difficult to work in. Humans were so contradictory.
Now Arimus was alone, sitting on the loungesuite, covered in
the blanket that the Sailorsenshi had given her. There was also a
soft, rectangular-shaped object that she was supposed to put her
head against. So she tried, only for the Sailorsenshi to laugh at
her efforts. Apparently she was supposed to be lying down upon the
loungesuite before she did so, which was simply unthinkable. Better
to be sitting up, in case a threat made a sudden entrance.
Still, the Sailorsenshi could have left the propaganda device
on. Arimus was just getting into some of the shows when she turned
it off on her. Apparently, it was making too much noise, and she
couldn't sleep. This left Arimus with little to do but sit up and
stare at the strange symbols, lit up in soft green, on the small
rectangle box sitting on a table on the other side of the room. The
symbols kept changing, with no discernible pattern except the period
that had passed since the last change. Perhaps the Sailorsenshi was
using the device to observe her behaviour, recording her actions for
future reference.
She pulled the blanket tightly over her head, shying away from
the object. She had been observed by such devices before, usually
for horrible means. In the Dark Kingdom there were many horrors for
a Youma to face. Hatred comes easy to one who has never known true
freedom, and happiness was something entirely unheard of. Much of
her existence was spent having distrust of humans drilled into her,
and despite their apparent lack of hostility towards her, she still
could not truly bring herself to believing that they meant her no
harm. There had never been a time when she had been free of people
trying to harm her.
Slowly, silently, she slinked off the loungesuite, blanket
still draped over her, and made her way, crab-like, across the floor
towards an open doorway, her eyes fixed on the object at all times.
It did not move, nor did the symbols change, in that time, and she
shot through the doorway, surprised to find that the softness of the
lounge's carpeted floor had been replaced by a cold, hard surface.
She turned and almost faded to dust on the spot. In the
middle of the room sat a huge four-legged creature, surrounded by
smaller four-legged beasts. A mother and its children? She watched
the creatures for a while, and eventually decided that they meant
her no harm, since they didn't move an inch. Probably as afraid of
her as she had been of them, especially the way the young ones were
snuggling up underneath the mother.
She moved her gaze to the other denizens of the room. There
was a large white object, humming to itself, sitting in the corner.
It didn't seem all that intimidated by her presence, either, and she
skittled across the floor towards it, allowing herself an
exploratory touch of its front. It felt cold and hard, not like a
living creature at all. She'd seen Youma like this before, but this
was obviously NOT a Youma.... she couldn't feel any life energy
entering her fingers, just a steady, crackling buzz. Electricity,
she knew.... Her touch was draining the energy from the object,
involuntarily, and she removed her hand, hoping she hadn't done it
too much damage.
She waited for a bit, but it continued to hum as it had done.
Satisfied that everything was alright, she studied its surface, and
became interested in a protrusion on the front. It was a different
colour from the rest of the machine.... A kind of mottled brown
rather than the flat white of the rest of its surface. She reached
up and rocked the protrusion to see if it would move, and fell back
as the object became angry, throwing its entire front at her.
She could feel its cold breath bearing down upon her as she
huddled underneath the blanket, peering out through a small hole as
the entire room was lit up by some energy beam. After about half a
minute of nothing happening, she lifted her head from the blanket
and stared at what lay within the object. There were little silver
steps, rising from a solid box-like object in the base, all
containing smaller objects that appeared to be the object's last
meal. There were even little pockets on the inside of its front,
filled with other items. And she could smell strange aromas
emanating from these objects, the likes of which she had never
experienced.
Crawling forward, bravely, she knelt in front of the opening
and placed a hand on one of the objects, sitting on the middle step.
It was round and clear with a red top and seemed to contain
something red and mottled within. She picked it out of the object
and sniffed it, feeling a little uncomfortable at how cold it was.
Youma had been kept in cold like this, usually the keep them in
manageable numbers until they were needed. Perhaps this was the
same process?
She tapped the transparent sides of the object, then the top.
The two were made of distinctly different substances, one metallic
and the other something she couldn't quite work out. Whatever the
case, it was obvious that they weren't permanently joined. She
tried pulling on the top to see what would happen, but it remained
where it was. Disappointed, she was about to put it back when she
brushed the edge of the top with her other hand, and it made a
clicking noise. Before she knew it, the top was free of its
mounting and was clattering on the floor.
She hadn't had time to feel frightened before she could smell
the contents of the clear container. A sweet, yet somehow savory
aroma that she clearly identified as a foodstuff. Youma rarely ate.
Life energy was what sustained them. But occasionally they would be
forced to supplant the energy with food.
She placed a finger into the foodstuff and scooped out a small
quantity, sniffing her catch before placing it into her mouth. She
sucked every portion of the substance off and rolled it around after
removing her finger, allowing the flavour to properly register. It
didn't seem too bad, having a sweet yet slightly musty flavour, with
a very pasty consistency. It was too sweet, however, to consume all
on its own, and was obviously meant to be had with something else,
of greater substance.
She stared into the innards of the white beast and spied some
small, round-looking things. She took one and studied it, feeling
its soft yet slightly crumbly flesh, which came away in tiny lumps,
bouncing across the floor. She took one of the broken edges and
pulled it away. Underneath the flesh was a porous, webbed interior
that seemed to make up the bulk of the object. Whatever the case,
considering its advanced state of decomposition, it wasn't going to
be too concerned about being eaten.
She shoved one end of the object into the container of paste,
scooping out quite a large quantity. She then lifted up and bit
that end of the object, tearing away a large lump and chewing on it,
silently, as crumbs fell freely from the corner of her mouth. It
was satisfactory, although she was disappointed at the lack of blood
within the flesh of the dead creature. Indeed, she began to doubt
the object had ever been alive at all.
Tossing the half-eaten object aside, she started to explore,
more deeply, the storehouse of goodies within the white beast....
----o
>From the Personal Journal of Neo Queen Serenity
(Tsukino Usagi I)
6/29/98
There is a story, passed down through the generations of a
particular family, survivors of the destruction of the Silver
Millennium, that told of a young boy, who grew up to be the patriach
of the family, and the day he met the Princess of the Moon Kingdom.
It is, perhaps, sad that this story faded with time, as all things
do.... Even the existence of the Moon Kingdom, itself, became
nothing more than a succession of fables, garbled in their message
due mostly to the fact that their retelling was down to oral
tradition before written texts were established. The Human Race
spent many thousands of years without rediscovering the secret of
paper and print, and the memory cheats its user more than any
faculty humans are born with.
The only reason I know of this story is due to what my
mother.... That is, Queen Serenity, told me during the moments of
sleep. That and many other stories, a great many of which I hadn't
known even in my past life. There really are times when I wish
she'd been a little more forthcoming. It's not like she didn't have
the time, back then, to blurt all of this out. She just didn't know
how LITTLE time she had.
Anyway, the story went thus.... Just prior to war breaking
out, the Dark Kingdom were sending out raiding parties, attacking
villages and townships in every quarter of the solar system that had
been inhabited. One such village, which lay in what is now the
southern tip of Norway, had been so badly razed that there were few
survivors.
One of those survivors was a young boy, no more than two to
three years old. Both his mother and father had been butchered by
the forces of the Dark Kingdom before his eyes, and it was only his
small size that had spared his life, hiding from the attackers in a
gap between houses that only a child could have managed.
When soldiers from the kingdom had arrived, it was too late to
save a large number of the populace, and the boy had remained hidden
for several days, so traumatised by his experiences that he'd lost
the ability to tell the difference between enemy and friend. Anyone
who carried a weapon was a potential threat in his eyes. In the
end, however, he was destined to be discovered by someone, and it
was fortuitous that it was one of the relief workers to the
township.
Presenting less a threat than one of the soldiers, the relief
worker had managed to coax the frightened boy from his hideaway and
gain enough of his trust to take him back to the relief hospital.
There, his injuries, although few, were treated, as those in charge
of the relief decided upon his and the other survivors' fates.
As the boy had not any known living relatives (at that stage,
anyway) he was shipped from the town to an orphanage in a larger
population centre.... A trade port in what is now Andalucia. This
was fortunate as, at that time, the port was receiving its first-
ever visitation by a member of the royal court, of the Silver
Millennium. The Princess Serenity.... Me, in other words. Well,
it was a surprise to me. I've never been out of Japan, excluding
one or two moments where necessity called, let alone to a region of
Spain.
Anyway, for some odd reason part of my itinerary included the
orphanage. Well it would, wouldn't it? Can't be seen to be a snob
or anything. Personally, I couldn't see myself avoiding such
things, since I'd rather be spending my time with kids at an
orphanage than snobby, stuck-up, self-important dignitaries who
wouldn't know a real person if one dropped on them. And there were
quite a few of them around in those days, believe me. Give someone
just a whiff of power or authority and watch it go to their heads.
Actually, it's probably not much different today, but I digress....
I wandered through the orphanage, being guided by my own
carers.... as if I really needed looking after.... and those in
charge of the institution, being shown the living conditions of the
children and such. The orphanage was not simply housing for
children without relatives, it was also a hospital and, sometimes,
a legal housing center for children in trouble with the law, or who
were involved in legal cases such as child custody during parental
divorce.
It didn't really seem to matter what reason the children were
in the orphanage, though, they all gravitated towards me like little
human magnets, each of them wanting to see, if not touch, a member
of 'royalty'. From one room to the next, even. You'd think this
would get a little old, eventually, but I was a fairly open person,
and saw each and every one of the children as important.
Anyway, it was when I had been guided into one of the
playrooms, and suitably surrounded by a gaggle of young children,
all holding out gifts of flowers and whatsoever else they had been
instructed to give, that I noticed the boy who had survived the
massacre of his village, holding back in the corner of the main
room. He didn't seem interested in greeting me at all, and as my
time in the playroom passed, had sunk into a small ball, his hands
wrapped tightly over the top of his head, facing the wall.
I asked one of those in charge of the playgroup about the boy,
and was told about his story. Well, what do you think I did then,
hmm? I do have a reputation to keep up, although I didn't know, at
that time, what I was getting myself into. I'd never encountered an
orphan of, what could be considered in retrospect, war, before, and
was not experienced in the kind of post-traumatic stress exhibited
by those who survive such events. Even before I approached the boy,
I was warned by not only those in charge of the orphanage, but my
own bodyguards, that his reaction to my presence might be....
unexpected and unnatural.
But did I listen to them? Oh nooooo.... I'm Princess
Serenity, right? Everyone KNOWS I mean them no harm. Well, after
kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder, he turned in
fright and sank his teeth into my fingers. I spent the next few
minutes trying to stop people mobbing him whilst simultaneously
sucking my fingers in a vain attempt to relieve the pain....
END OF PART 13
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Next Chapter.... "Waking Up is Hard To Do" ^_^
Naito Raida ikari@wantree.net.au
if that address doesn't work, try
ikari@chariot.net.au
Don't ask why.... The changeover
between Wantree and Chariot is a
complex and bureaucratic issue that
defies true explanation.... -_-;;