Battle Vixens! - 62

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Episode 62: Everyone's Having Breakfast

 

After Cynthia's room was unlocked, she went to look at it (dragging Dawn in with her) and then immediately went back to Dawn's room. She acted like she just wanted to talk for a while longer, and repeatedly, annoyedly insisted that she'd go to her own room "in a few minutes", but Dawn could feel deep down that she was afraid to be alone. So they wound up both sleeping in Dawn's bed, with the redhead holding on to her from behind.

The next morning, Dawn jerked awake from a nightmare, gasping once and briefly panting, her heart racing. The details eluded her even within the first few seconds of being awake, but it left her terrified that something had happened to Cynthia. Yet—she could still feel here there behind her, and her body was warm—healthy, alive. "Mnn?" And now awake. "Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Um..sorry."

"You better be! I was sleeping pretty great." She peeled off and got to her feet, letting Dawn roll over onto her back before sitting up quite a bit more slowly. Her heart rate and breathing were already normal, and the evidence was clear that the other vixen was fine—but some formless dread was still clinging on to the back of her mind.

Both of them jumped then, at a knock on the door. Cynthia (heedless of the fact that this wasn't "her room", so maybe she wasn't supposed to be here) went and threw the door open. "What!?"
"Err." One of the other amnesiacs, a green-haired vixen, was standing there. "Sorry, uh, I was up first, and..they wanted to make sure everyone knew breakfast was available. If, you guys are hungry?"
After a brief pause, both of them seemed to simultaneously realize they were actually starving. "..I guess," the redhead replied. "Where is it?" Dawn carefully got up and stretched while the green-haired girl stumbled through some directions, trusting Cynthia to actually remember them. They didn't sound very complicated, but even so it felt natural to leave something like that to her.

Once they were sitting down with their plates—side by side, with the green-haired girl across from them—Dawn found eating more difficult than expected. Not because she misunderstood anything, or had any trouble physically picking up food and putting into her mouth, but because every time she reached for something new, Cynthia grabbed it from her and sampled a tiny piece herself, sniffing at it and putting in her mouth before allowing her to have it back.

"What're you doing?" the girl across from them asked about the fifth time this happened.
"Checking for poison! We don't know who made this stuff, or..anything."
"And..you think, if someone wanted to poison you, they'd use something we can smell? Or that would take effect right away?"
Cynth's ears folded back. "I don't know how poison works!"

"I mean..neither do I, I guess?" she shrugged. "But..why would they, go to the trouble of taking us in yesterday, giving us a place to stay and food...and then try to do something bad like that?"

She sighed. "No, I guess that wouldn't make any sense.." And handed the latest item back to Dawn without sampling it.

"Uh..you guys, have names?" she asked hesitantly a bit after this exchange.
"They said my name was Cynthia. And she's Dawn," she said, pointing. "You?"
"Err." Her ears folded down slightly. "They told me, they're still trying to figure out who I am. I thought I'd just call myself 'Serra' for now..it sounds, sort of nice," she shrugged.

"Yeah, it does sound nice," the redhead agreed, nodding.

Next to 'Serra' was another of their number, short with black hair and bright red eyes. Cynthia seemed to finally notice that she'd been staring since they sat down, and turned to her. "Hey, what're you lookin' at, huh?"

"Eh-toe..sumimasen," she mumbled nervously, leaning back away from the aggressive vixen a bit.

"Su-what?"

"That's 'excuse me," a tall woman on the other side of her from Serra said, leaning toward them slightly. Noticing her, the dark-haired girl turned her way and said some more of what sounded to Dawn like gibberish. But the tall woman said: "And: She didn't mean to be rude, but was interested in your conversation. She can understand most of what you're saying, but apparently is unable to speak it." In a slightly different tone of voice—seemingly intended to convey that she was speaking herself and no longer translating for the dark-haired vixen—she said: "That's because you speak different languages. I've been assigned to translate for her for the time being."

"Uh-huh. And how do we know that's what she's saying?" Cynthia said.

The woman shrugged. "I guess you'll just have to trust me. But at least, she'd obviously look upset if I went way off-base, right?"

"Well, do they know who you are?" Serra asked, to which the dark-haired girl shook her head slightly and spoke some more.

In a sort of almost-echo, the translator said: "There are some leads, but nothing certain yet, I'm told. But I did use a 'false name' while in this form before I was killed."

"Kagae-she-bai," the girl said toward them herself while pointing a hand toward her own chest—seemingly this was the name in question.

"Means 'shadow play'," the translator explained. Then she translated a bit more: "It is probably because my powers give me control over shadows."

"Yeah, that'll do it," Serra said. "I mean, I think one of the people we saw yesterday called herself 'light' 'cause she has light powers, so that's at least a little more creative, I guess?"

Kage..whatever nodded at this, but her ears folded down a bit afterward. "It isn't much use to finding anyone who would know me, unfortunately."

---

Amory made breakfast, and all his roommate had to do was get up and sit across from him to eat it. "You sleep well?"
"Yeah. I feel a lot better," Blake said. "You?"

"Uh..yeah. I feel a little better. There's still some..stuff, but I feel, a lot more like I'll be able to figure it out, I guess."
"Good, good."

"...Feels really weird to just, go back to school after yesterday," he said after a pause.

"Yeah. But, what're we gonna do? Oh, we've had some messages passed around already," Amory said, picking up his phone next to the plate slightly. "Emma doesn't have anything this morning, so she's gonna wait with Ning in case anything shows up in town. And..I guess both of us have classes, and so does..Magus, so you two can cover the campus."
"Sounds good. Honestly, I kinda hope they just attack this morning and get it over with so we can take the afternoon off. Even if they don't do anything today it'd be annoying to be on alert all day," he said.

"Hmm. I guess our goalposts have really shifted fast," Amory said. "Week and a half or so, and fighting the monsters feels like a nice routine to fall back to after the whole...thing with the puppets," he continued, waving a hand in the air vaguely. "Don't get me wrong, I kinda agree. But I'm a little worried 'it' might...I dunno, step things up again?"
Blake exhaled a sigh. "I really hope not."

"Yeah, me too."

---

Clark got up feeling absurdly well-rested. She stood, stretched, and changed back to normal, going to take a shower before facing the day. Rory was lying on the couch facing the back, and her ears rose and twitched as soon as he came into the living room, picking up even the lightest footfalls he could manage. Still—some things never changed—she just groaned softly and pulled the blanket up over her head as he continued on to the kitchen to make something for them to eat.

As well-rested as he was, and since they had the day off, Clark felt like making something special. He pulled out the ingredients for eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits—a full breakfast, though not a very healthy one. In no time at all the fox-girl's nose wouldn't let her sleep any more, and she shuffled into the kitchen still holding the blanket around herself as a cape in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other. It was..admittedly..very cute, in a way 'normal' Rory hardly ever was.

"Morning," he said.

"Mrr...g'morning. It smells really good in here," she said, opening her eyes fully to look around.

"It's nearly ready," Clark replied. "You can get yourself some juice and sit down if you like," he added, waving vaguely to the refrigerator. Rory seemed to stop and stare for just a second before going to get a cup out of the cabinet, pull out some orange juice and pour it—all the while with an expression of very mild confusion that suggested she wasn't exactly sure why she knew where these things were and what to do with them. He reasoned to himself that this was a good sign—some of her well-ingrained habits were still there, even if she wasn't yet fully aware of them.

It was also Rory's turn to eat ravenously, scarfing down meat, cheese, and bread in equal measure while Clark ate a bit more calmly and properly. This wasn't much of a surprise to see as far as he was concerned, and he was just happy she liked it—more or less as usual. She did stop at one point to wipe her chin with a napkin, and in that moment appeared to look up and realize he was still there seeing her eat the whole time. Her ears folded down a bit and she blushed with some uncharacteristic embarrassment. "It's..really good," she said.

"I'm glad," he nodded, smiling back at her. This seemed to quell her nerves, and she just beamed back for a moment before going right back to eating the same way as before. Clark had always felt that if a person couldn't eat rudely in their own home, what was the point of it being theirs? Maybe Rory had never really thought about how she ate when alone with him before, but it certainly never bothered him. It was just another facet of her confidence and self-assurance, which he admired more than anything else. At the same time—he thought, maybe, some more self-awareness couldn't be counted as a bad thing, ultimately. It made him ponder what he would notice about himself if he were put 'outside' of his own perspective like that?

---

Simon counted what felt like half an hour after he felt his wife leave the bed, and then got up himself. The clock informed him it had been maybe ten minutes, but she was about finished in the shower all the same, and came out not long afterward to find him standing here. "Well, you're up early," she said. "How's my 'superhero', huh?"
"Starving!" he said, spreading his arms dramatically out toward her. "Why didn't you convince me to eat something before konking out last night?"
"You were in bed before suppertime came around," she said, shrugging and continuing on her way to the bedroom door without a pause. "Anyway, I thought any adult would be able to remember basic things like the human need for food. Oh, and you were too cute asleep to wake up."

"Well, at least that's true!" he said, running ahead to open it for her. "Mayhap I can join the fair lady for breakfast, then?" Simon added, waving chivalrously out toward the hall.

"Hahah. You can share the microwave if you want," she said, taking the offered route all the same. "At least you're in a good mood, I guess."

"Hey now. When am I ever in a bad mood, huh?" he objected, following behind her.

"Oh, just about any time things aren't going completely your way. I suppose you've earned a good mood after yesterday, anyway."
"Well, I certainly hope so, after fighting for my dear life and having a part—however small—in resurrecting the dead," he said. "I also hope at least one or two of those girls will agree to some photos before they're shipped off elsewhere. I already missed out on the bunch who woke from their comas, but this time there's nowhere near as much of a security concern."

"You're free to ask them," she shrugged. "Just be sure to exercise basic tact this time huh?"
"Hey, I have more tact than you and I do combined," Simon said, deliberately annoying her with the contradiction. "Well, I'm sure I can at least get Cynthia to come around, in exchange for a painting if nothing else. I could tell, she liked the piece I made for Dawn."
"Really? It sounded to me like she was upset with it being 'unrealistic'."
"Ah, but she could tell it was unrealistic. That's an artist's eye that girl's got, even post-amnesia, and that puts her at a level of appreciation far above the general rabble," he gushed. "I can almost guarantee she'd love to commission something else from me."

"I guess we'll see."

---

Emma woke up right at five minutes before her alarm would have gone off. When she'd gone to bed intending to go to the 'dream place', she had tried to 'set herself' to wake up at exactly this time, so—maybe it had been a success? She shut off the alarm and sat up, sniffing the air briefly. Being in the tall, gorgeous, two-tailed vixen form—well, any vixen form really—gave her an enhanced sense of smell, as might be expected, and right now she detected the distinct, slightly painful scent of a spicy meal cooking. Her ears twitched too, picking up some unexpectedly quiet cooking sounds, but ultimately there was no mistaking it: Beryl had returned, and was making breakfast.

"Hmmh." Emma's stomach growled as she stood up and stretched slightly. She was a little tempted to stay this way, maybe try an illusion of her 'normal' self, but...Beryl was definitely sharp enough to notice her voice being completely different. Anyway, the sense of being happy and refreshed hadn't gone away when she'd turned back last time, and it certainly wouldn't now. She turned back before going to take a quick shower, then heading out to face her roommate again.

"Morning~!" Beryl called almost as soon as the bedroom door was open.
"Hey, g'morning," Emma said, waving as she went around to the kitchen. "You..came back last night?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "They had the roads closed yesterday afternoon. Crazy stuff, right? Hey, you're in a good mood," she added cheerfully once she caught sight of Emma's face.

"Oh? Uh, y-yeah." She hadn't even noticed how much she was beaming, but didn't feel like restraining it either. Beryl was happy that she was happy, so why hide it? "I'm just, really glad they got the, uh, that person who'd been attacking all the vixens, yesterday," she said.
"Mm-hmm. I guess things must be going pretty well with your crush too, ri~iight?" she said, leaning teasingly in Emma's direction a bit.

"Uh..yeah, actually." She felt a slight blush coming on, but resisted the ribbing admirably otherwise.
"Hahah! Wow. Well, I'm really happy for you, then. Annd, I'm just about done here, too!"

"Good. It smells great," Emma said. Well—that was also true, aside from how hot it was obviously going to be.
"Really? I must be doing something right, then," she answered cheerfully.
"Come on, you know you're an amazing cook. It's just, uh..a little painful sometimes," Emma said.
"Oh, well, you know. Spicy stuff is in a lot of what's hip and trendy, so it's what I learned. Anyway, the struggle makes the flavor even more worthwhile, doesn't it?"

She just shrugged, sitting down. "If you wanna think of it like that."

---

Corporal Langdon arrived at the VI headquarters early in the morning, already in vixen form. Not many were awake at this hour, but Rowan was already in his office, sifting through some paperwork. She knocked lightly on the open door and waited for him to look up and nod before taking a couple of steps inside and giving a quick salute. "Reporting for duty. As of today, I'm officially on loan to the VI."
"Good to know...I'm sure you're aware, but we're more of a 'civilian volunteer' organization," he said, sitting up. "Honestly, I don't know much military protocol in the first place, so there's no point standing on it."

She relaxed her stance right away. "Ah, well, if we're bein' honest, I ain't really in the military either. See, it's complicated to reenlist someone who was honorably discharged and pullin' VA for a few years. Technically, I'm a 'civilian contractor'."

"Hmm," Rowan nodded.

"I guess they didn't replace the guns you came with last time."
"Well, they weren't too happy with the rough treatment I gave 'em yesterday." she said, coming over to take a seat in front of the desk. "Funny thing, I surely knew better, but when it's life or death this body's 'instincts' kick in, and somethin' makes me act like anything I'm fightin' with is indesctructible. I'm, given to understand bullets ain't so good against our main enemy anyhow. If someone else comes around to cause trouble for the VI, then I might borrow some heavier artillery again, but until then it's more or less agreed I'm better off without it. Which just leaves me with this thing." She grew some metal thorns from her palm, and they formed into the long knife that had been used as a bayonet before.

"This don't have much in the way of range, which ain't good with an enemy that wants me close so it can swallow me," she said, holding it loosely in her hand. "Thought I'd ask your advice, since you got more experience with this sorta thing."

He nodded. "Well, throwing it is always an option—since you can reform it in your hand at will. Or, you might make it into more of a mid-range weapon if you wrap some of the wire around the hilt. We have some courtyards set up with targets if you want some practice. The first thing your 'instincts' want you to do isn't always the best," he said, "but it seems like we're also pretty good at retraining ourselves."

"Sounds about right."

Rowan stood up. "I can show you the way to the nearest one. Have you had breakfast?"
The vixen nodded, getting up herself. "Before I left the base."
"Well, I haven't. If you don't mind a quick detour." She nodded and followed him out the door, waiting for him to shut and lock it before continuing.

"There's something I should ask about," Rowan said on the way. "I don't know exactly how much of our intel has been passed your way, but..every one of us has powers more or less based on what we 'wanted' when they were 'given'."
"I was told something of that nature," she nodded.
"So: What is it you 'wanted'?"

"Well, ain't it obvious? I wanted my leg back," said Samuel, pointing.

"See, a few years back, an IED took out half the convoy I was in. Other half was able to pull the survivors to safety, but most were even worse off than me. I was already close to retirement age as far as the military's concerned, but I didn't really know what else to do, so I was resolved to stay on until I couldn't anymore. And, that was it.

"Since then, I more or less tried to enjoy retirement with my family. There were good days, bad days...maybe you know how it is. But what I hated more'n anything was feeling like a burden. Sittin' around doing nothing. I fought through physical therapy to get to where I could more or less walk right with a prosthetic...but it ain't like I was ever gonna be ready for active duty again. Still, impossibly, that was what I wanted. To not just have my leg back, but be that young, invincible soldier I always used to feel like I was."

Rowan nodded. "Thank you, that should help. Our current understanding is that those desires that made our powers also inform how they continue to function and develop. But they are also somewhat...amplified while in that form. You should be careful about acting impulsively, I think, especially if you feel what you're about to do would be 'heroic'. There's nothing wrong with protecting other people, of course, but...just be careful that you're going about it the right way.
"...The other one I'm most familiar with who wanted to be 'invincible', got herself killed yesterday, and I'm not convinced it had to go that way for us to win."

"Understood," she nodded. They reached the cafeteria, and Rowan went inside briefly before coming back out with a small to-go box and a bottle of juice.