Josephine and I were going on a walk, holding hands intermittently, because we were in an affectionate mood. We weren’t really walking “to” anywhere, we’d just gotten tired of being cooped up in the shop all day, and since it was Brandy’s turn to man the counter for a bit, we were heading out to see what was going on in the world. Speaking of the world, we were currently back in Velena-Rana-Perfetta. Our world of origin. Back in the city of Coron-Glaw.
Outside our shop, there was a whole lot of noise and hubbub. People gathered on the sidewalks, and music emanated from the buildings and streets. The phenomenon was so widespread our own shop was mimicking the sounds and music to fit in. At first, we were a bit puzzled, but then we remembered what day it was. The floats and balloons that slowly made their way down the main street served as a reminder.
The actual day… doesn’t really matter, actually. We operated on myriad worlds with myriad political, historic, ethnic, and religious holidays. Suffice it to say, that this was one of the holidays celebrating one of the republic of Oskar’s founders, who also happened to be a recognized Saint of one of the local faiths. So, now, there’s a whole bunch of music, dancing, drinking, and carnival-type activity in the streets.
“Oh, fun! I forgot it was this time of year. What do you say? Should we take a little eating and drinking tour of the city?” said Josephine.
“Sure,” I said. Nodding and smiling. Lightly tossing my shoulders, because honestly, while I wasn’t really a festival kind of guy, I was just happy to be out of the house for a bit, and having the world be a little more festive while we were out on our walk didn’t feel like a negative.
We walked around a bit, stopping at the shops and stalls that were actively engaged in hawking their wares to the crowds that were gathered in the streets. I had a couple fruity martinis. Jo had a couple shots of liquor and mugs of ale. We both had a whole assortment of chilled, fried, and grilled foods that were either served in/on cups, cones, skewers, and/or sticks.
Suddenly bullets were flying everywhere. A ball of roiling acid melted away the face of the man directly ahead of us on the street. The sounds of celebration were replaced by screaming and violence. It seemed someone was attacking the city. This wasn’t just a terrorist attack, or some intra-factional squabble, someone was attacking the Oskar itself.
Using my data-analysis revealed that a certain powerful guild was using their hidden agents to try and send a message to Oskar’s government. Attempting to take a few of the republic’s core cities hostage and embarrass the nation on the international stage. Looking at the details, both sides were pretty wretched, but I wasn’t too keen to side with the folks who were firing on civilians. So I’d say that the guild was several notches worse.
“Poopie…Should we leave or should we fight? Or…” said Josephine. Frowning while continuing to lick her ice-cream cone.
I sighed. I kind of didn’t want to get involved, but I was right there, and it’d take me literally the same amount of effort as it was taking to lift the martini I was holding. I was getting stronger, every second, of every minute, of every day. I was putting effort to increase my strength even further. Even “I” didn’t know the full extent of what I could do anymore, which made the hunting trips all the more important.
Yet, the potential consequences of actually using that strength were big enough that I was hesitant to actually let myself get wrapped up in too many things. As my experience with the angels had shown, there were rules both stated and unstated that even powerhouses were supposed to follow, and it was easy to get in trouble by being too flashy, or too meddlesome.
Beyond a desire to avoid annoying encumbrances and encounters, my broad senses, and past experiences, had numbed my reactions to all the screaming and death going around in the city. Which probably wasn’t good if I was trying to live as a normal person rather than a villain. Thus with a thought, the bullets and blades stopped flying. A suppressive wave of spiritual force and mental energy put an end to any power use as well.
I froze the attackers. Casting a full-body petrification spell that would likely last long enough for the police, and the reserve guard for the Oskar military to react and show up. For her part, Jo simply used one hand to continue eating her various snacks, while she unhooked her arm from mine and turned any fortunate fellows we ran into personally, into aerosolized flesh and crimson mist. Punching them out of existence, in a display of overwhelming force.
Then Jo and I started heading home. Figuring that the night was over. I could see ambulances and fire trucks everywhere, as well as the occasional passerby holding or weeping over a loved one. I felt a pang of something that wasn’t quite guilt but definitely came from the same place, and cast a bit of healing magic that would maybe, hopefully, save some lives.
“Mhm…Looks like the party’s over,” I said. As I observed, Oskar's army move into the city to deal with the attackers.
“Nhn…Seems so. There’ll probably be another war coming pretty soon,” said Jo. Licking her fingers as she finished another sweet treat from the bag she’d been holding. Her words almost in sing-song.
“Looks like it…” I said. Nodding. The guilds and secret orders only made big moves like this when the countries behind them, and the powerhouses behind those countries, were nearly ready to make their own moves.
Just as Jo and I were about to teleport away, someone called out.
“Wowzers! Is that Jo! Gasp! It ‘is’ Jo! Hey, Jo! Jo! Jo! Hey, Jo!...Hey 3:15, you remember me?” said a voice that sounded surprisingly familiar, coming from a face that was similarly familiar.
I saw a woman who looked a bit like a smaller Jo. Same blond hair, same blue eyes, same heart-shaped face, same canine features. To be more precise, if not a little less appropriate, she was shorter, less-muscular, less-busty,...and maybe it was my bias, but less attractive, Jo. She wasn’t quite a mini-Jo. She was definitely an adult, and was actually slightly taller than average height than your average human, or beastfolk female. It was more that Jo’s stature, appearance, strength, and overall being had grown far beyond what she’d been. Growing alongside her cultivation. I think if Jo had been thinking about it at the moment, and trying harder to pass for normal like she usually did when we were out in public, the two might have been essentially identical.
Jo frowned and turned around. Her eyes narrowed, the air around her warped and twisted, her bloodthirst cooling and then boiling the air around the two of us. Then suddenly her expression brightened again.
“Oh, so it’s you Lorelai…I thought it was one of the no-good siblings, or the dog-catchers…” said Josephine. Uncharacteristically annoyed and relieved in the same breath. Which made me instantly decide to look into these “dog-catchers”. I’d already sort of had a look at Jo’s past, with her permission, and maybe just a peek beyond, for the sake of avoiding any hidden trouble. However, if there was something that could make my wife that worried, it probably warranted another look, and another discussion between the two of us.
Jo and the not-Jo met in the empty, mostly abandoned street, heedless of the folks in uniforms who were still executing and/or carting away the dark guild's personnel. The not-Jo “Lorelai” wore a uniform herself and recognized her as part of the city’s private security forces. I.E. the privatized part of Coron-Glaws police force that generally tended to the part of the city where the nobles and wealthy elites lived.
The two women circled one another, and I had a bizarre feeling that if they were on all fours, or maybe just in private, they’d definitely be sniffing each other right now. Actually, if the not-Jo’s abilities were anything like Jo’s abilities they probably were already sniffing each other, but they were being a bit more…discreet, or I guess, polite…about it. Eventually, the two women embraced, then Jo turned to me and waved.
“Hey…Hey, honey! Come and say hi to my sister!”
My eyebrows jumped and I realized that I was about to meet my in-laws. Suddenly feeling a whole hell of a lot more nervous. I stepped forwards, annoyed to find myself walking robotically, as I proffered my hand to my wife’s batch-sibling. A fellow tank-born soldier that had apparently found a new life for herself, as a mercenary, and guardswoman.
