Six Months, Six Stories: April

APRIL

You'd be forgiven for missing Blue Diamond, Nevada on your way to Las Vegas. It was an unassuming town of nearly 300 people, and Anthony could have sworn that the little city, despite its claimed history, had just sprouted out of the ground one day to welcome him.

From the Johto region, Hiker Anthony had come to the Americas on the trail of the many trainers who were taking their adventures to faraway lands he had never even heard of before. Well, he could have sworn an electric gym leader talked about America once or twice, but the Hiker hardly remembered the period of time he spent actually trying to earn gym badges and had shifted his focus to exploring new lands and the Pokemon in them.

The states had proven to be quite bare in the Pokemon department, and he had to explain to a few people that he had fought that rabbit or bird under the impression they were a Bunnelby or a Pidove. His "Pokemon Adventure" was proving fruitless, but as he hiked his way across the Silver State, he found the diamond in the rough that is Blue Diamond.

Hiker Anthony and his strange group of Pokemon were the talk of the town, and with the news a group of supercharged heroes and their assorted villains were heading to the nearby metropolis of Las Vegas, they were more than willing to make him feel at home and give him that shiny Sheriff badge. Anthony began to quickly learn the people's names, attending the elementary school's sports games and chatting up the townsfolk after Sunday services.

Hiker Anthony was content, and his Pokemon had nothing they needed to scare off bigger than a coyote... until that day. Blue Diamond residents began spotting the strange space ships flying overhead to Vegas, and cars with colorful character blazed through the town, barely stopping long enough to fill their vehicles and guts while paying in unrecognizable currency. Anthony soon found his time being spent away from the people he had gotten to know, keeping watch with his Pokemon late into the night to divert aggressive drivers to less populated roads.

He was getting good at posturing, and soon the town had little to fear of the outsiders. But while Anthony could protect the streets easily enough and the air was hardly an issue, no one in town expected the surprise visitor from beneath the ground.

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Hiding behind the "safety" of closed windows and cracked doors, the citizens of Blue Diamond stared at the strange creature that had emerged from the dirt. At first it was an unrecognizable mess, but when it quickly popped into a humanoid lizard form, the citizens knew better than to try and speak to this unwanted visitor. The lizard woman made no effort to engage the citizens either, instead looking the small town over before muttering to herself.

"No no, I'm not supposed to be here," she said too quiet for anyone to hear. Even after that statement, the lizard woman did not depart, placing her head to the ground and moving around the city oddly enough to cause a few children to cry.

When Hiker Anthony arrived on the scene, he was unsure of what to make of it. He was used to strong-arming outsiders on the outskirts, but with all eyes on him now as he walks slowly towards the lizard, he finds a sense of stage fright sucking away his usual demeanor and replacing it with an all-business affect. Holding forward one of his Pokeballs, he calls out to the arrival.

"You are... trespassing on the city of Blue Diamond, and I... must ask you to leave before I am forced to escort you out myself!" He yells, nervousness carried on the words. The lizard women didn't seem to notice his unease though, as she stood up to full height and placed her hands on her hips.

"Excuse me?" she said, the phrase more out of legitimate misunderstanding than a confrontational retort. Anthony took a step back as if it had been though, the extended Pokeball visibly trembling in this atypical stand-off.

"I... I know you are on your way to Las Vegas," he assumed, "But you will not be... hassling this town on your way there!" he declares, the word "hassling" barely found in his vocabulary after an unusual period of silence.

"Las Vegas?" the lizard woman said. Anthony was beginning to wonder if this woman even understood English, but as the lizard woman began to slowly walk  over to better carry on this conversation, he panicked. The Pokeball cracks open, a tall imposing figure filling the gap between the two.

The intruder literally jumped back at the sudden appearance of the Machoke, the muscular fighting-type was Anthony's preferred bodyguard, and the Superpower Pokemon knew as much. Pulling in its arms tight to better show off its muscle, it stared down the lizard woman whose face did not look much different from its own. With a bark of its unusual cry, it waited for Anthony's orders.

The lizard tilted her head over and over as she looked over the Machoke, trying to understand it better.

"This is your last warning," Anthony called out, wishing his voice could have recovered some of its confidence.

"What are you even talking about?" The lizard women said as she began to march towards Anthony, "I'm just looking for my ma-" her sentence is cut to an abrupt stop as Machoke intercepts her, arms grabbing her small much smaller limbs and pushing her back.

Acting impulsively, the lizard woman responded with a angry and harsh swipe, the fingers forming into points that dug into the Machoke's chest. The Pokemon staggered back, surprised by the first time it had actually been injured while performing its protective role. However, it had definitely not gotten soft in its inactivity, and soon it was flailing its heavy arms at the lizard woman in a counterattack.

The lizard dodged the attacks with ease, but as Anthony popped into awareness of the situation, he began to command his Pokemon, "Machoke, Seismic Toss!"

Machoke ceased its disorderly assault and lunged towards the lizard, pulling her up in a tight grip and preparing to bring her back down into the very ground she emerged from. As Machoke performed the follow up though, the lizard managed to slip out of his grasp and wrap herself around the Fighting-type's neck, pulling back hard on its chin as if she was trying to yank its skull off.

"Machoke, Protect!" Anthony called out this time, and Machoke was suddenly shrouded in a barrier of energy, forcing the lizard woman off his back and into the dirt. She wasn't down for long though, and as the barrier around Machoke faded, the lizard woman swung her tail around, snatching Machoke by its legs and lifting it into the air.

"INCINERATE!" Anthony said in a panic, and the Pokemon was quick to react. Opening its mouth wide, the Fighting-Type spat a ball of fire right into the face of his opponent, causing her to release her opponent in surprise. Anthony had hoped the fireball would have ignited her hat or clothes, but the fireball seemed to do nothing more than surprise the intruder in its suddenness. Machoke fell to the ground, landing hard on one of its own arms as it did so. When it got back to its feet, it was not difficult for anyone to tell by the way it was held limply to the side that the arm was temporarily out of commission. Anthony had a few potions and Full Restores on hand on the off-chance his Pokemon received such injuries, but as the lizard woman prepared to reengage Machoke, he knew he could not get close enough to administer them.

"DYNAMIC PUNCH," Anthony yells to his Pokemon, Machoke nodding to his trainer before pulling back his good arm thrusting it towards the lizard's face, attack wreathed in flames. The intruder had no trouble ducking under the highly-telegraphed move, but as she went under the arm for a counterattack, another order was yelled out, "INTO SUBMISSION!"

Unsure of what such a vague move name could mean, she had no counter for the elbow drop that slammed her into the ground before Machoke tried to wrap itself around her to keep her down. The lizard found a way to worm out of the hold quite easily though, and quickly pulling herself to her feet, she raised one leg and stomped it down on the back of Machoke's head, the foot seeming to expand as it did so to make the attack all the more painful.

Anthony was grinding his teeth in anger at this point. Pokemon battles were one thing; You could always rely on your opponent following the basic rules of the back and forth, but this intruder would likely not stop until Machoke was a pulp in the desert sand. Instead of waiting to see if she would go so far, Anthony reluctantly raised his Pokeball and returned the Fighting-Type, the lizard stumbling forward as the Pokemon beneath her foot suddenly disappeared.

Believing the battle won, the lizard women pulled herself together and turned back to Anthony, whatever damage she had taken not showing on her form, only in her posture. "We done here?" She tried to say, but the noise is swallowed up by the sound of another Pokeball releasing its contents.

Graveler groaned as it appeared from the Pokeball's red beam, partially as standard protocol from being sent out, but also from its displeasure at being sent out into such a bright and sunny day. Graveler always preferred the night watch.

"Oh great, do I have to fight you too?" The lizard woman asked, drooping as she saw the new arrival. The Rock Pokemon did not provide a response, instead standing almost as still as, well, a rock, as it waited for orders. Anthony wanted to say something like "Leave now or else you'll have to fight him!" or "We don't have to do this!" but the pressure of the eyes of those who watched from behind store windows was too great. This was his time to prove himself to these people who accepted him and relied on him, and if he let the lizard leave after besting his Machoke, he knew the rumor mill would be unkind to him for weeks to come. So instead, when he spoke, he said "Stealth Rock, Graveler!"

Graveler groaned again, groaning was his thing, he was good at it. If there was a groaning competition, he could probably get second or third place. But right now, his groan was from exerting effort, the effort of making stones appear and surround the woman in front of him. The lizard balked at the stones, wondering how they could be stealthy if she could see them all around her, but as she tried to move away from the annoying levitating stones, she found herself slamming her face directly into one.

Rubbing her nose, she pulled a hand back and made it expand, the huge palm swinging around to try and bat the stones away, but they quickly returned to their position afterward, her spin not rapid enough to force the floating rocks apart. Growling angrily, the lizard could not hear the next order given or the groan from the Graveler  So when a Mud Slap kicked up a spray of wet dirt into her face, the lizard was more than caught unaware.

The intruder made no effort to clean her face surprisingly, instead turning and rushing angrily at the Rock Pokemon and leaping towards it like a Velociraptor, Stealth Rocks buffeting her as she did so. Graveler was much to slow to dodge, but when the pounce landed and the claws dug in, they found little purchase. The lizard fell back off the stone, but retaliated quickly with slashes against its hard rock hide, doing nothing but leaving white marks across its surface. Graveler laughed, although it sounded more like a groan if you asked me, and soon the next order from Anthony was issued. Graveler curled up into a ball and rolled forward, the Rollout literally flattening the lizard woman.

Graveler went rolling down the street, giving itself a wide berth for the return roll, but Anthony was already cheering as he looked at the crushed lizard before him. He laughed a hearty Hiker's laugh as he advanced to look at the squashed intruder, people swinging their doors open and cheering, but everyone was suddenly silent as the squished lizard popped back together. Anthony staggered back in surprise, landing on his butt as he looked up at his opponent. For now, the intruder paid him no attention, instead focusing on Graveler, whose return roll was just about to reach her.

They had seen her hand and feet stretch to be more affective weapons, but no one expected the lizard's body to pull in on itself to make a large wall. If not for the color of it, it could have passed for an authentic piece of dry wall, but when Graveler slammed against the green wall, he found it bending inwards to absorb the momentum, and the Rock Pokemon managed to let out one last groan before the wall rebounded like rubber and launched the Graveler so far down the street that it left the little town of Blue Diamond.

The lizard returned to its humanoid form, batting the still present Stealth Rocks as it turned to its primary aggressor. She said something to Anthony, that was certain, but shock had filled Anthony's ears and he wouldn't have heard Jesus descending from heaven to a choir of angels if it happened right now. The Hiker fiddled with his pack, desperately trying to pull out the next Pokemon as the lizard woman stood close enough that he could smell her. The intruder extended an arm towards him, but before anything else could happen, a Pokeball was thrust forward, and the hand was filled with the heavy form of a peculiar land snake.

The lizard fell to the ground as the 30 pound Dunsparce filled her hand. She did not even bother to stand up after falling though, instead crossing her legs and letting out an exasperated sigh as she sat before the third Pokemon of the evening. She did not even know what to expect of the chubby creature, and when Anthony said Glare to it, she could not have expected those drowsy looking eyes to crack open in a chilling glare that paralyzed her every limb.

As the lizard struggled to move her body in any way possible, the only sound in the small town was the light fluttering of Dunsparce's wings, the Land Snake Pokemon just happy to be getting some use in battle after being caught in Dark Cave so many years ago. Anthony dared to stand up now, looking at the lizard woman before him and laughing nervously.

"Not so tough are ya now," he taunted, posturing for the people of the city. No one would talk about the struggle of the battle if the ending was dramatic enough, and Anthony knew to play up his superiority to ensure that his earlier failures in this battle would eventually be painted into the path to his success. The lizard continued to struggle against her failing body, seeming to almost melt as limbs drooped and unwound before Anthony. Not quite sure what was happening to his opponent, he made sure to gloat appropriately, maybe say something nice for the local papers to reprint.

"Now don't let me catch you or any of your kind in this town AGAAAAAAAAAYAAAAH!" Anthony's taunt turns to terror as the lizard finally regains control of her body, and in doing so she extends out like a sea urchin, multiple spikes extending in what was her desperate bid to escape the paralysis. Dunsparce is spared any pain from being blocked by its bulky master, but Hiker Anthony is impaled through the gut by one of the suddenly spawned spikes. The lizard is quick to retract the spike as she realizes what has happened, quickly becoming humanoid again as she stares at the injured Hiker. Anthony falls to the ground, clutching his stomach in agony as the lizard woman begins to panic.

"Shit. SHIT! Fuck, I didn't mean to... Aren't you as strong as... FUCK!" The lizard screamed, walking in place nervously as she tries to figure out what to do. She had expected the trainer of such powerful creatures to be equally strong, but as he continued to bleed out before her, she could do nothing but curse. As doors cracked open and worried citizens gasped in horror, the lizard woman say nothing left for her to do. Rather than causing more trouble than she already had, she plunged herself beneath the dirt and left in the same way she had arrived.

Dunsparce nuzzled in close to the dying Hiker, Anthony wrapping his arms around it for support as he tried to cling to consciousness. The world around him was turning black, swirling in his vision as he felt more empty and drained than ever before. He could barely see what was happening when another new arrival entered the city, seemingly stepping out of thin air before him. At first, he only saw hooves, but forcing his neck up as much as he could, he saw a strange figure sitting atop a donkey, his face hidden behind shadow.

Joyce Jr. drifted off of Balaam, floating down to be on eye level with Anthony without ever touching the ground. "You appear to be in quite the predicament."

Anthony tried to choke out a response, only coughing up enough blood for the spirit to distance himself a bit more from the dying Hiker to avoid being covered in it. Dunsparce inched forward protectively, its tail seeming to rattle aggressively, although it was silent in doing so.

"Now now, save your strength. I have no more ties to that unusual intruder than you do. I hardly ever interact with the ground, let alone those who spring up from it."

"I am here because I go where I am needed, and it seems you are in the need of quite a bit of assistance, are you not? No need to answer, I will do the talking here." Joyce Jr. continued, "Now, I must be forward about my intentions. I did not appear here like a guardian angel to save you in your hour of need. I am in need of an assistant, one who can move where I cannot, and that motive is what allowed me to sense your plight here. I am capable of taking your pain away and restoring you to your old self, but this power is conditional. No matter how much either of us wish for me to use it, my arms are bound by a certain rule in its application."

"Now, Death is swiftly on his way, and I can restore you to your former vigor quite easily, allowing you to continue on in this desert gem of a town of yours unimpeded, but you must pledge yourself to the cause I currently represent. Despite your misgivings about the Kobbers and their arrival, you must draw a line in the sand sooner or later, or else someone will drive theirs through you and this entire modest township. So, if you are to stand with the Kobbers, to pledge your allegiance to them, so to speak, I can painlessly stitch you up and return you to your regular day-to-day, but if I call upon you to aid me or the Kobbers, you must hold up your end of this bargain. I wish there was a simpler way to do this, and I hate to use your own life as a bargaining chip, but my arms are as close to being literally tied on this affair as they can be until you've sworn yourself to this cause! What do you say Anthony?"

Anthony, despite his condition, found his mind quite clear and the pain, at least for now, numbed as Joyce Jr. made his offer. If some random lizard woman could tear him and his Pokemon apart so easily, he knew he had little chance if the Kobbers or one of their enemies decided to descend upon the town. He did not mull it over long, weakly uttering acceptance of the terms.

"Excellent!" Joyce Jr. said, clasping his hands together. He did not even need to make a motion to begin the "operation", the wound in Anthony's torso disappearing as if had never even been there, not even a hint of a scar left behind. "For now I take my leave then, good sir, and I shall be in touch when your services are required. Good day to you sir, and may your future, and the future of us all, prove brighter under the watchful eyes of the Kobbers."

Joyce Jr. mounted Balaam once more, the ass stepping back through the air and leaving sight inexplicably. The world seemed to start up once more for Anthony, although it had never truly stopped. The Hiker reached down at his stomach, pulling up hands bloodied not from a wound but from the history of a wound that no longer showed. Standing up, he looked down at the large hole in his shirt that told of an entry but was not corroborated by his flesh. Seeing the evidence of successfully escaping death, he could not help but let out a hearty laugh.

"WA HA HA HA! I'm alive!" He cheers. Uncertainty about the future could wait. As the people of Blue Diamond gathered around, some hugging him, others merely voicing their relief, Anthony felt he had made the right decision. No matter what else might happen involving the Kobbers, that lizard woman, or the mysterious spirit who rode in on the back of an ass, he would always have this little town and its people to return home to.

Six Months, Six Stories: March

MARCH

"Here we are, in beautiful Las Vegas!" Theodore Rex exclaims, stepping fresh out of the airport with suitcases held in each claw. The dinosaur's nostrils inhale deeply, replacing stagnant plane air with the fresh air of the city. "Viva Las Vegas! Viva, Las Vegas!" He began to sing, shuffling his feet in what one might call some sort of dance if they were feeling generous that day.

Inch High Private Eye squirmed his way out of the bulging edges of one of the suitcases, peering out from what could be described as a nest made of clothing if one was not afraid of the letters they would receive from offended fastidious nest-builders.

"I think I may have shifted a bit during the flight," the miniature mystery solver states, holding his stomach with a groan.

"Well I didn't pack any toilet paper so be more careful next time!" Theodore says, mishearing his pint-sized partner. Theodore scans the area, "Wow! Sure ain't busy today! Maybe they close the casinos on Sundays?"

Inch High recovered his composure to begin looking around. The cargo hold had hardly been a place to gauge the sort of flight he and Theodore had arrived on, but he noticed the airport traffic was nearly non-existent, and the same thing could be said for any buildings that dared to ascend beyond the second story. Inch grabbed his chin now, looking at the especially lush foliage that was not afraid of receiving any punishment for daring to creep onto the city infrastructure.

"This city sure is a sight, but the scenery is all out of sorts. This looks very different from the motion pictures." Inch observes, before being forced to take a new look at things as he and his suitcase ride are hoisted above the head of Theodore Rex.

"There, is that more like the pictures?" Theodore asks.

"I'm still not seeing it, but I can appreciate the view. This place really blows me away. You should put me down before you have to chase me down the street again!" Inch says, holding his hat on his head with one arm and keeping himself from blowing away with the other. The suitcase is lowered, as is Theodore's brow as he considers the situation.

"Hmm... Well you know nothing they show in movies is real! I mean, I saw this awesome movie about Las Vegas once, and there were cavemen and dinosaurs and even this little green alien!" Theodore says, almost wishing that as he said it, the movie would come to life before his eyes just to prove him wrong.

"I believe you are thinking about Rock Vegas, Theodore, and we need to have a long talk about your taste in movies when we've figured this all out." Inch says as he finally leaps free from his suitcase suite to hitch a ride in Theodore's jacket.

The policing pair begin to walk into the city, continuing to figure out just why the city seemed so out of sorts to them. Inch High's private eyes are caught by the street signs, "Hmm... all the signs here seem to be in Spanish!"

"Well, it is Las Vegas, which is, after all, Spanish for 'The Vegas', so it makes sense they'd have Spanish signs, right?" Theodore says, scratching his head as he tries to justify the oddities before them.

Inch High does not respond immediately, instead watching the foot traffic that consisted entirely of ownerless dogs meandering about the nearly empty streets. "If these pooches are any indication, we are definitely not in Kansas anymore, let alone Las Vegas."

"What do you mean?" Theodore asks, "I'm sure Las Vegas has tons of dogs!"

"Some people might call Vegas a Dog Town, but it certainly isn't a One Horse Town. Let's stop in somewhere so we can get to the bottom of this." Inch High says, tugging Theodore's jacket to try and mush the massive dinosaur in the direction of a nearby corner store. Instead, Theodore marches down the street, his head staring skyward as they walk under a large banner. Theodore begins sounding out the Spanish words on it, reading it much slower than he needed to in doing so, but before he could reach the conclusion that lie at the end of the banner's advertisement, Inch High had already spotted the problem as he watches a truck pass by on the lonely road.

The tiny detective's eyes bulge large enough to nearly match the size of that red X in the corner of your browser window as he reads the license plate, "Theodore... may I see our plane ticket?"

"Sure! It should be right next to you!" Theodore says, jamming his claws into his pockets to try and find it. Inch quickly bats away the curious claw that plunged into his protected pocket to prevent any accidental impalement and rummages around the many contents of the jacket, eventually pulling out the crumpled airline ticket.

"Just as I suspected. We are in Las Vegas alright... Las Vegas, Santa Barbara, Honduras!" The private eye exclaims dramatically, his index finger shooting upwards as he says it.

"OH NOOOOOOOooooo...oooooo....oooo? Really? Wow, what a mix-up! Guess I shoulda been more careful ordering our plane ticket! Maybe next time you should look it over first!" Theodore says sheepishly, but Inch High seems to be in less jovial mood than his compatriot.

"I would, but it's hard to read when your eyes are as big as the letter I," Inch says, not angrily, mind you, but more in the way someone who has come to terms with this sort of impediment in his life and must admit such things on a regular basis.

"Well, maybe we can get you a magnifying glass, or, well, a REVERSE magnifying glass, to make the words smaller! OH! We could turn a telescope backwards, that always makes things seem smaller!" Theodore says, slamming claw into palm as if he had won some sort of victory for thinking up the solution.

"Smaller, but further away too. But that can wait. For now, we need to find our ticket out of here." says the pipsqueak PI.

"Do we have to? I mean, I always wanted to go on vacation! I even packed a Hawaiian shirt! Hawaii is kind of like Honduras, right?" Theodore asked, pleading with his pal and face nearly shoved in his coat pocket to reach the PI.

"Maybe when there are missing people who disappeared from sunny beaches or nature walks. For now, we need to make sure that Las Vegas's population has a few less question marks at the end of it!" The detective declares, dashing Theodore's hopes of a brief Honduran vacation.

"Fine, we'll go then... Hey! Maybe this time I can convince them to let you on as my carry-on!" Theodore says, his spunk already back and the spring back in his step as they begun the not-so-long trek back to the airport.

"Well, I do contain less than 3 ounces of liquid," Inch High notes.

"Good! Then we won't need to stop at the restroom!" Theodore says, and the two begin to arrange their flight back to America and onwards to Las Vegas!

...Las Vegas, New Mexico, that is.

This humble city in the Land of Enchantment proves to be a much more convincing City of Lights substitute than the Central American municipality, and one that takes far longer for the dopey duo to realize is not actually the city they were assigned to.They also had the far more plausible excuse to send back to their superiors this time: the NM and NV difference between the two similar cities in similarly abbreviated states was more understandable on a bureaucratic level than the excursion out of the country. Unfortunately, red tape cuts deep, especially when its wrapped around you twice, and as Theodore Rex and Inch High Private Eye tried to work their way to the City of Lights, they found days dragging into weeks dragging into months. Even as May threatened to arrive, the two found their butts firmly planted in Las Vegas, New Mexico's Plaza Hotel, hoping to soon be doing something besides watching the complimentary basic cable...

Six Months, Six Stories: February

FEBRUARY

Hasty clicks and clacks are the only sound in the dark room lit blue by the computer screen. Words streaming forth into a platform for all to see, a worldwide audience on the other end whose attention he had to compete for with millions of others, but he had, at least, carved out a small niche. He could guarantee someone would read the words he wrote, and he made sure that the words he typed were strong as he could muster...

But when the door was abruptly pushed open and the lights turned on, his words mattered little, and you could almost hear him try to adjust to the change in lighting.

"'Ey Gewjog!" the entry said, slamming his steam rifle down on the table near the door. "Get ya head out of dat machine! I got great news!" The entry laughed, slowly removing the many tools and weapons from his belt despite removing the belt seeming to be the easier option, if it had only been one. Gewjogfka (Goo-jog-fuh-ka) turned away from his computer, pushing the monitor away to hide his activities despite their relatively innocent nature. Gewjog squinted at his companion, not from the light anymore, but now from his usual demeanor when forced to engage with his unfortunate roommate.

"What is it Baofbawwig, (Bough-ff-bough-wig) I'm busy right now." He said, body still half-turned in his chair to face his roommate. The room was an odd mix of technologies, Gewjog's half unassuming in its modern comforts and accoutrements while Baofbawwig's echoed the bygone age of steam technology. Neither side was particularly clean, Bawwig's from the side effect of such old machines and Gewjog's more from his own slovenliness.

Baofbawwig laughed, bridging the unspoken gap between the two sections to place his hands on his companion's shoulders. "We got the doctor back Gewjog!" He laughed again, trying to spin his friend in his chair but finding Gewjog obstinately still. Gewjog's neck craned up, considering the news, and then turned back to his computer, fixing the monitor.

"Dat's great." He grumbled, no enthusiasm in his voice.

"...Dat's great? Dat's all ya got ta say bout it? Dis is fantastic news! It means we can go out again!" Bawwig said, his voice elevating to try and motivate his compatriot.

"Eh, I don't really want to go out. I'm pretty good in here, not really much I want to do outside." Gewjog said over his shoulder, trying to resume his typing.

"But ya need ta go out sometime right? It's good news even if ya do want to spend all ya time in front of dat box!" Bawwig added.

"...Eh. Not really. I mean, if I want to go out, it's not dat hard. I already look like a video game character, so I can just say it's cosplay and no one will botter me." Gewjogfka says, trying his hardest to say "bother" to no avail. Unlike his companion's problems with the "th" sound, when Gewjog failed to make the noise, he made an almost hissing noise rather than skipping the phoneme for a basic "t" sound.

Baofbawwig was briefly derailed by this comment. "A vidya game character? What do ya mean?"

"Well, I already kinda looked like one, so I just adjusted to look more like him!" Gewjog added, almost daring to be enthusiastic about it before he pulled himself back. "I'm not particularly fond of the character, he's a bit of a stereotype, but eh."

"Which one ya look like?" Baofbawwig asked, eyes scanning the tall shelves of Gewjog's collection as if the spines of the games would hold the answer.

"Ugh, you wouldn't even know if I told you." Gewjog said, eyes rolling behind his glasses.

"No no, I know games! Like, da Call of Duty, and da Halo, and dose Final Fantasy games. Why do dey call dem dat if dey gonna make so many!"Bawwig joked, only to hear a huge groan from Gewjog.

"UGH, how can you even BE so behind on dat joke. It doesn't matter, whatever, Yay! Doctor's back! Is dat what you want to hear?" Gewjog said, actually turning away from his computer to make the statement, waving his arms in faux glee.

"Even if it not good news for you, it good news for me. I got stuff out dere to do, and I need him to help. Tink about someone besides yourself. Dis is great for all of us, even if you don't need his help." Baofbawwig said, enthusiasm sucked out as he sat down on his bed.

Gewjog stared at Baofbawwig, anger in his throat from being called selfish, but he didn't care enough to continue the conversation. With a harumph, Gewjogfka turned back to his computer, channeling the anger into a post for his small circle of internet buddies to read.

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The sound of blade against bone is not a very pleasant noise. Neither object wishes to make contact with each other, and the screech made as they are forced together is stomach. Which made it all the stranger that, as blade dragged against bone, someone was making some rather pleased noises about it.

"Mmmmm," scrape "yes, listen to dat" scrape "Dat's it right dere" the voice continued on, punctuating each glide of the knife against the bone with a similar statement. A different voice growled, trying to make his annoyance known without having to say anything, but it was soon clear that such subtle means of expression would be lost on his companion.

"Can you stop dat? It's fucking creepy!" he growls, the bone scraping coming to a stop almost instantly. "I don't know what's more annoying, you or dat bone being scraped!"

"Now now now," the other voice began, "Don't be like dat! Bones is great! Bones are so weird! Dey in so many tings, but not us! We boneless! But peoples, and animals, dey need bones to stay up! To stay togetter! So funny, bones is."

"Dat don't explain shit, Uysnskow (Oo-sin-scow). We ain't gots lotsa tings, but you ain't dragging knives cross dose!" The angry voice continued. Despite his voice, Ugrsteh (Oo-grr-stay) actually got along quite well with Uysnskow, his anger balancing his ally's borderline insanity. They were told they were kin, although the word hardly meant much to them, but that was what kept them together even as they sit in the dimly lit warehouse.

Uysnskow laughed, "Dats cuz dey ain't as intersting! Bones show you what used to be dere before da creature died. Look at dis one! Dis was once a person's head!" Usynskow said, holding up a human skull for her companion to look at. Ugrsteh growled again, his growls making up most of his vocabulary these days, batting away the head to show his disinterest.

"Dat don't even make sense! Dat head has no nose but people have noses!"

"Noses don't got bones in people!" Uysnskow said. Her knowledge in many things was wanting, but she knew her craft. "Don't be so hard on bones! Bones is good for stuff besides fun! Look, I made you weapons!" Uysnskow said joyfully, holding up a twin pair of hand scythes whose handles were spines. Ugrsteh looked them over, recognizing the weapon's craftmanship with a begrudging glare, but he still daren't say anything positive about Usynskow's craft.

"Did dey have to be spines?"

Before the bone-carver could answer, a third voice chimed in, much happier and saner than the other two. It almost could pass for a regular joe's if not for the similar inability to say the "th" sound.

"Guys! Guys! I got amazing news! Me and da guys found da doctor! Da doctor is back!" This one was known as Moyusfuy, (Moo-yiss-fay) and just like Baofbawwig, his news was met with little joy from his allies.

"Doc is back? ...Ok. Great. Dat's great. We can go back to playing pretend." growled Ugrsteh, throwing his new weapons to the ground only for Uysnskow to dive to save them.

"Careful!" the bone-carver said, placing them gently to the side before talking to Moyusfuy. "Doctor is good news! Doctor knows lots about bones! I can show him new weapons I made!"

"Great," grumbled Ugrsteh, "Now you got Uysnskow being more of a creep."

"Would it hurt you to show some joy once in a while, Ugr?" Moyusfuy hissed, Ugrsteh flinching at his abbreviated name. Almost everything seemed to bother this grumbling grump, and he made sure to make it known.

"I'm tired of pretending to be someting I ain't, and I don't tink Uysnskow can pretend much longer. People gonna notice she's a creep some day, people gonna figure us all out one day! Way I see it, we gotta stay underground or else we end up in da ground. We can't live like dis forever, even if Doctor is back."

Moyusfuy was prepared to bring up a counterargument for Ugrsteh, he always had a few in the back of his mind for his ally's predictable objections, but Usysnskow broke the flow of thought by presenting a newly made weapon to Moyusfuy. "For you Moyus! Bone bolos! I made dem myself!" Usynskow says, as if their origin was in question. Moyus held the bolos up, looking at the skulls dangling at the end. He was no more pleased with Uysnskow's obsession than Ugrsteh, but Moyus did his best to encourage the bone-carver's only real passion.

"They are... great, Usynskow," Moyusfuy forces out along with a grin. Wind somewhat diverted from his sails, Moyusfuy managed to address Ugrsteh with a more even tone. "Listen, Ugrsteh, you came out knowing what was gonna happen and, well, I don't tink you want to go back anymore den I do. It's hard fitting in, but it's what we gotta do. Boss says so."

"I don't see why we listen to dat egghead anyway. Jisadjok's (Gee-sad-jock) got better ideas den him!" Ugrsteh counters.

"We listen to him because he's actually made it in dis world. He's one of da few who has, and he's definitely da most successful. Jisad's... got his ways, but dey only work because he is Jisad." Moysufuy notices Ugrsteh is no more convinced than before, so he walks over to sit next to him, trying to find some common ground between them, all while Uysnskow slinks along the ground in her usual way.

Moyus sighs, "I get it... its hard for you and Uysnskow... Look, I'll try to find someting dat fits you two better. Maybe Mark has something you two can do."

The mood immediately worsened. Ugrsteh was up, his growling turned into a downright snarl as he looked at Moyusfuy with eyes full of fire. Only their long history together kept Moyusfuy safe from being immediately attacked.

"MARK?" Ugrsteh said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically normal. In fact, it almost sounded like the "white man" voice a black comedian might use in their stand-up routine. The contrast in voice and mood was impossible for Moyusfuy not to pick up on. It almost seemed like someone else was saying the word for how much it differed from Ugrsteh's usually gruff and low voice.

"...Yeah... Mark. Do... I... Do you have a problem wit Mark?" Moyus asks, shrinking away.

"YEAH I DO. Dere is no MARK, dere will never be a MARK, I never want to meet a MARK, because dat is not his name!" Ugrsteh yells, his mouth right in Moyusfuy's face. Moyus was terrified, but he tried to keep his composure.

"I I I...You know what I meant. It's what he calls himself now!" Moyus stammers out.

"I don't care! I will never call him MARK because he will never be MARK! Do NOT forget who we are MOYUSFUY!" Ugrsteh roars, his new twin scythes from Usynskow now in his hands and ready to strike. Moyusfuy quickly disengaged, backing away, nearly ready to run away from Ugrsteh forever, but as he saw Usysnkow sitting on the ground, panicking but having no idea what to do, Moyus caught himself and calmed down.

"Ok, ok... I won't do it again... But... I will talk to him. Even if you don't want to fit in, you can't just sit in here forever." Moyusfuy turns away from the two, speed-walking away as fast as he can to avoid any further conflict.

"Better dan being called MARK!" Ugrsteh yells, the name bouncing off the walls of the suddenly silent warehouse. Uysnskow crawled back to where she had been earlier, wrapping herself around her personal bone weapon, to afraid to even continue her work carving the weapons. Ugrsteh saw her worry and scoffed at it, walking away to simultaneously cool down and allow Uysnskow to resume her bone-carving without worrying about angering him further.

----------------------------------

The news of the Doctor's returns had nearly made its way to everyone who cared, or at least, everyone who should care. Most of those who hadn't participated in the raid on the hospital had been informed, but there still remained one within the group who hadn't heard, and for good reason.

Akljadlk (Ack-ull-jad-ulk) sat beneath the surface of the still pond, mind focused on the thoughts that swirled around in her own head like a riptide. Others dismissed her as too pensive, praising her ferocity in battle but bemoaning her need to consider every motion outside of the battlefield. It made her usual choice of company quite odd, but she knew she needed the counterbalance Jirunbuf (Gee-roon-buff) could provide, and she only wish he would more often chose to reside near clearer waters for her to rest beneath. Her enjoyment of California's far cleaner waters made her all too willing to ignore the ripples in the surface of the pond, and her meditation was quickly broken as her bulky companion reached his arms into the water and yanked her out with ease.

Jirunbuf's big dopey grin almost told the news story in itself, but Akljadlk was still surprised to hear the words straight from his mouth: "Yee hee hee! Ya'll will never believe dis! Doc is back! We got da doc back!" Jirun twirled Akljadlk in the air, her response still hidden in the safety of her mind as she slowly adjusted herself to walking on dry land despite her overenthusiastic partner constantly buffeting her in his excitement.

"Oooooo weeee! Ain't dis da greatest Akl? We can go back to Louisiana soon! Oh my stars I can't get going on how dry and boring dis place is! Hoooo doggie it's gonna be good to go back!" Jirun continued, slapping himself as much as Akl in his jubilance.

Akl couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "You are quite happy about dis. You must really like da life you lead in Louisiana."

"Well sheeeyoooot, you know I do! Heck, I hardly need da doc much anyway, most people don't come out to da swamp, but I gots to be presentable if johnny law comes round, boss says. He he, don't need it much rest a da time! When I dive in to wrassle dem gators, I love da look at dem faces when dey see me da way da cops never do!" Jirunbuf continued to laugh and bounce around, but Akljadlk was incredibly still, her only movement being a hand pensively touching her chin.

"I am happy dat you are happy Jirun." Jirunbuf was used to Akljadlk's reserved nature, but curiosity and little inhibition forced his tongue anyway.

"Well... uh, ain't you happy too?"

Akljadlk was slow to respond, "I suppose I should be. Dis is news we have all been anticipating. But I cannot help but wonder... is dis da life we really wish to lead?"

Jirunbuf's face scrunched up, his thought process more visible on his features. "Well, I know I don't want to live da old way! I can't do nearly as much fun stuff! I'm large and in charge now, and doc keeps me fresh when I needs it. I guess'n you don't needs it as much as me, do's ya?"

Akljadlk smiled, it might have looked sweet and motherly on a different pair of lips. "If dis is how you want to live, den I am happy, for you and de rest. We should all live as we wish to live."

"Ha ha! Dat's more like it! Yeeeeee dawgy, I can't wait to see Jisadjok's face when I go'n tell him!" Jirunbuf yells happily, turning to leave Akljadlk back to her meditation. One of her arm quickly juts out to catch him though.

"You are telling Jisadjok?" She asks, worry in her voice despite her trying to hide it.

"Well shoot, he got a right to know, don't he? Maybe he'll stop playing it up big and come back ta us if he knows Doc is back!" Jirunbuf says jovially. Much in the way Uysnskow and Ugrsteh were kin, Jirunbuf and Jisadjok were known kin as well, and it seemed these days that Jirunbuf was the only person Jisadjok would even listen to from the group. Akljadlk turned Jirunbuf's optimism over in her mind a few times before finally releasing his shoulder, answering his own grin with one of hers.

"Be on your way den. See if you can convince him to bring back da girls at least," she adds diplomatically, her words coming echoing a higher-up's sentiment rather than her own.

"Ha ha! Like he'd ever let dem girls outta his sight! Ah'll tell him you miss him!" Jirunbuf says before waddling away, Akljadlk trying to call after him not to even mention her name, but her voice was too soft to carry.

The affairs continued to dance in her head as she returned to the pond and submerged herself, moving to the bottom to think on what few words had been exchanged to weave a tapestry of doubt and worry despite the seemingly good news.

Only time would show what would happen to this strange disharmonious group, and time seemed like a luxury to a group who had for so long existed in the shadows. But time has a funny way of changing things, and the winds of change were blowing towards America's west coast...

Six Months, Six Stories: January

JANUARY

Two-story houses with garages on the side and two cars in the driveway wrap around the fat droplet at the end of a dead-end road. The fronts are painted white and the roofs are alternating between forgettable shades of brown and grey. The grasses are an acceptable green, and everyone has one tree to their lawn that never dares to give fruit. And from the windows, the parents watch hesitantly as a sound outside of children laughing and cars parking and lawnmowers grinding and sprinklers clacking punctures the still, concocted air of the neighborhood.

It wasn't an unfamiliar noise; they had heard the sound whisk by their ears many times in the past, but it was louder and lower than it had any right being, and it was not a sound to be found on the usual winter agenda. As Broderick entered the ticky tack cul de sac, he was more than aware of the noise.

"I must agree the droning noise can be quite grating when in absence of any contributing noise, I suppose I should endeavor to find a more silent means of travel, or else surround myself with more company than a picturesque Las Vegas cul de sac," he muses aloud, no one visible to hear the words but his need to speak overriding it. Raising a hand and swirling it in the air, it soon found itself full of a wine glass, Broderick not wishing to imbibe any of it, but he felt compelled to move the red liquid around as he pensively surveyed the area.

"It is quite easy to forget the City of Lights's more demure settings, but I shan't run brazenly in to a foreign land without knowing its ins and outs." The wine glass was gone now, disappeared with no announcement or flourish. It didn't excuse itself in any way, simply leaving when Broderick needed the arm to join another in fixing his collar. Must always look presentable, he managed to say solely in his mind, which was fortunate, for it allowed Broderick to hear the only other voice to puncture the din of the droning roll.

"WOAH!" came the simple noise, from a simple child. A young Caucasian boy, hair brown and clean cut hiding on a propeller cap, t-shirt bearing a safe logo of an acceptable children's property, and an acceptably thick pair of pants to excuse the flip-flops on his feet in this "cold for Las Vegas!" sort of weather. The child rushed over in a half-run, gawking at Broderick with neck craned high.

"Are you for real?" The kid asked. Broderick might have scoffed at such a lack of decorum in an adult, but in a child such things could be excused.

"Indeed I am, young master. I am Broderick, at your service," he says, dipping into the best bow he could perform.

"How'd you do that thing with the cup?" the boy asked, ignoring the more present questions his parents would ask if they could brave anywhere beyond their house's threshold.

"It is all up here, my boy," Broderick said, pointing at the tall stove pipe hat on his head with a wink, knowing the similarity it bore to a maigican's own preferred headwear.

"Wow... how do I get a hat like that?" the child asked, eyes nearly glittering in the soft sunlight.

"It appears you have quite a fine hat yourself, young master!" Broderick laughed, flicking the pinwheel aboard the boy's cap. "Quite a whimsical declaration of youth, if I do so observe myself."

"Oh, yeah! My dad got it for me! I saw kids on tv wearing it and I kept asking my mom to buy it over and over but she kept saying no but then my dad got it for me!" He said excitedly and somehow in one breath.

"Sounds like your father is a mighty fine fellow!" Broderick declared. "May I see your hat?"

"Sure!" The kid pulled the toy hat off, handing it over with little worry. "But you gotta show me another magic trick!"

Broderick took the cap in his hands, gloves appearing to cover them as he looked it over. "No problem my dear boy,"  he laughs, a cane appearing in a free arm and nearly startling the boy in its sudden appearance. Broderick offered it over for the boy to play with as he looked over the cap.

"This is a mighty fine, if simplistic, piece of headwear. Constructed of course out of this country, but bearing the marks of the time you've spent with it. It appears you got this at an amusement park, no? I can sense your mother's misgivings on the mark-up alone, but you have spent much time blowing on the propeller or watching it move in the breath of your fan, have you not?" Broderick looked towards the boy, noticing he was now more interested in the cane than the conversation.

"Ha ha, never underestimate the distracting power of youthful wonder... Either way boy, it is a mighty fine hat and-"

"GET AWAY FROM MY BOY!" came the shrill voice of a brown-haired woman, her personality immediately apparent in the structure of her face.

"I apologize ma'am, we were merely making conversation," Broderick began to apologize, his mustache appropriately frazzled and a handkerchief materializing to make the appearance of his form match the feeling in his voice.

"I don't care what you are, stay away from my son!" She yells, running up to her boy and grabbing him by the shoulders, crouched down so low it almost looked like she was using him as a shield. The boy tries to sputter out an apology on Broderick's behalf, but the mom's ears are closed to anything beyond the screaming warning of danger in her head. The cane drops from the boy's hands, disappearing unceremoniously as the child is yanked away from the cul de sac's center.

"Wait! Should you not take the boy's hat as well?" Broderick adds, waving the hat in the direction of the family as the mom pushes the boy into their house.

"JUST STAY AWAY!" She yells, slamming the door as hard as she could to add the punctuation to her statement. Broderick's mustache drooped, and the neighborhood was once more quiet if but for the sound of the low droning. Sighing, he looked the hat over in his hands once more.

"You will be missed, but I wager you will be replaced. It was understandable fear in the mother's heart, but I am certain when the story reaches the father I do not doubt he will find you a suitable replacement for the boy."

Extending an arm, actual energy seemed to coalesce to his side, yellow lights converging to make a hat rack, which appeared to have a duplicate of his current stove pipe sitting on the end of a branch. Placing the child's abandoned cap on the end of an arm, it burst into the same yellow light before being reborn in the same place it had been placed.

"I am curious and apprehensive to see what this new addition will provide, but it was a long overdue expansion to my paltry collection," Broderick muses.

"STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF, YOU BUMBLEFUCK!" roars the angry voice of a rather rotund fellow in the window of a nearby house.

"Good evening to you too, my good sir!" Broderick counters with unwarranted politeness, doffing his hat in the direction of the man.

"FUCK OFF!" The man adds before slamming the shutters of his predictably placed window shut.

Broderick did not abandon talking to himself, but he did begin his departure from the cul de sac, droning din in tow, as he made his way away from the suburb.

"That certainly was an educational venture, and productive as well, if sadly tinged with the sadness of a child. I wager the hat would have only met the bottom of a trash can rather than the top of a head if it had been returned regardless. The older a human gets, the more they fear the world, even its most benign sides it seems. The unfamiliar is a cause for woe rather than wonder when the age increases... Oh I musn't talk like some sort of biologist! I haven't a hat for that yet!"

"But my time here is yet to continue regardless of my approach. Perhaps soon I shall observe the city's famed hub, but I daren't settle in to a city based on the polished presentation of the marketable center. The people, their stories, and most importantly, their hats, are what I am here for!" Broderick declares, an already lit cigar popping out of one hand to be placed in his mouth as he ensured his cloak looked presentable with the others.

And the droning rolled down the streets of suburbia as Broderick learned not of the resort city Las Vegas is presented as, but of the people who decided to live around the hive of debauchery. But as the months wore on, the hat-rack remained unseen, no need to pull it out when there were no new hats to add to it. At least, that is, until May rolls around...

Six Months, Six Stories: December

DECEMBER

"We're the next Furby!" laughs Professor Vector, walking in the new Hector Labs with a Toys R Us catalog in his hands. On the front was the increasingly popular Shen Phone and Friend, and it wasn't alone. Boxes of Shens were all over the much larger laboratory, with labels to ship all across the country. Professor Hector was sitting at a workbench, a Shen prototype lying open for inspection.

"Well, I don't think we are quite Furby, that's quite a landmark to hit. We definitely haven't hit Tickle-Me-Elmo levels," Professor Hector says bashfully, turning away from his work towards his excited assistant.

"Yeah, well, the numbers came in from Black Friday and Cyber Monday, and we're at least the hit toy of the season! Those harpies over at Good Morning America called up and want us to send 'em a few so they can gawk at them in front of the whole country." Vector says, throwing down the catalog and lighting up a cigarette. Hector chose to ignore it for now, if only to address other matters.

"Even when you're happy you're rude, huh?" Hector says, mood dampened a bit by Vector's consistent negative attitude.

"You act like you don't know me doc. Oh shit, right, no smoking around them. Last thing we need is more moms complaining about Billy's toy smelling like ash." Vector says, looking for a place to snuff out his cigarette before finally settling on cracking open the door and flicking it outside.

"More mothers complaining?" Hector asks.

"Well, not mothers, but yeah, we're getting lots of feedback about a high-pitch whine from the Shen products. Lots of electronics do that these days so I don't see the trouble."

"Hmmm... Well I don't hear anything!" Hector says, turning back to the table.

"Well, that's because you got more hair than wax in your ears Hector. Anyway, not worth messing with the product. Just gotta pump out more of those little ugly things and-"

"I thought you liked the design! You even said they were cute!" Hector says, mustache drooping like a big frown.

"Yeah, yeah, marketable "cute". All I know is I wouldn't want one of those near my kids if I had any."

"Well I think they are adorable," Hector says, turning back to his desk and bringing the prototype Shen to life. The little robot waddled over to Hector, grasping his finger in a soft hug.

"Oh god... Are you using the Shen too?" Vector asks.

"Well... Yeah! I need a phone, and why not? I've been using one of the prototypes for ages. Phones are so impersonal, even when someone else is on the line, I just thought-"

"Yeah well, I'm glad I've been taking our calls... Wait. That's it! That's the next step!"

"Wha-?" Hector yawned, his eyes drooping as he tries to continue to pay attention.

"Old people! Old people love- wake up old man, this is important!"

"Uwaah? Yeah yeah, I'm listening." Hector says.

"Yeah, so, elderly folks are all disabled and stuff and too tired" Vector says, narrowing his eyes at Hector as he says it, "to do lots of stuff on their own. They need care people or those weird care robots like them VGC-whatchamacallits"

"Yeah, like the one you almost got for us!" Hector beams, recalling the simple and functional design of the VGC-60L. It was not unlike something he'd invent...

"Yeah, yeah, anyway, we make Shens, but not as doofy looking. More like medical robots, so they could be old people's phones and they could have some basic caregiving crap in them too, like calling hospitals if the coot has a heart attack or maybe some maid functions little phone sized things can do like..."

"Like brushing teeth!" Hector adds, his sleepiness gone now that brainstorming has him excited.

"Er.... maybe not something so intimate, don't want some grandma filing suit when Shen 2.0 rips her dentures out trying to brush them."

"Medicine! Administering medicine, such as an injection or, OR! Monitoring blood glucose, for diabetes! Ohhhh, I could really use that! I always wished my insulin pump could be more friendly!" Hector says, pulling up his shirt to grasp at the pump as if merely willing it to be nice would turn it into a Shen-like product.

"That's the ticket! But... But but but. Before we get carried away, we need more investors! We'll need marketing for late night History Channel ads. Shen was a stroke of luck but kids will buy anything. Old people, now, that's an uphill battle. Getting old people to LIKE technology? Now that's a war!"

"If you say so... I like technology." Hector weakly adds.

"Right, but some people are set in their ways, capiche? So, we need financial backing! Time to shmooze it with the rich folk!" Vector says, slamming his fist into his palm dramatically. The Shen near Hector jumped in response."...They shouldn't be reacting to loud sounds like that doc."

"Don't worry, it's just the prototype, we worked out the kinks, remember?" Hector says, standing up and grabbing Vector in a side-hug jollily.

Throughout December, the shmoozing began... and fell flat. Although Shen's reputation grew, the inventors behind the piece began to build up a bad reputation. Vector made many an enemy trying to shove the new investment idea down people's throats, and many people took Hector's narcolepsy as an insult, thinking he was dramatizing how bored he was with the conversation. Soon, interested parties wouldn't even return phone calls or would specifically avoid them, and as December came to an end, very few investors had invested in Shen 2.0.

Vector sighed, "Well, that well ran dry way quicker than I thought..." The angry professor kicked some scrap as he prepared to light another cigarette.

"It's not all bad! We got some people... But even ROB's history and Shen's current craze can't beat well..." Hector trailed off, not wishing to blame either of them for their abysmal people skills.

"Yeah yeah, so, instead of whining and pouting, what're we gonna do now for money? Put OUR profits in? Sure would suck to be back in that old lab of ours!" Vector growled, looking for more things to kick.

"Careful, careful! You'll set off the defenses. Last thing we want is MAC on your back!" Hector warned, waving his arms at Vector as his Shen phone mirrored the action.

"That's it! SELL MAC! And the other dumb robots we got laying around. We can do an auction-"

"NO." Hector says, surprisingly stern and forceful compared to his usually dopey demeanor.

"Yeesh Hector, sorry." Vector says sarcastically. "You got to learn to let go of them some day-"

"Robots... are more than the sum of their parts, Vector." Hector says, sinking down into a chair and letting his Shen play with his finger.

"Fine. Fine. So, what's your idea, Einstein?"

"...I heard... well, remember, the King of Beasts?" Hector asks.

"I try not to. My nose still hurts whenever I think of that place," Vector says, rubbing his large nose as he says so.

"Well, I'm not saying we need to enter the Big Bar Brawl or anything, but... They do attract a lot of movers and shakers with heavy pockets!"

"Hector... you sly dog! You want to bleed those guys dry!" Vector laughs.

"No no no! I just mean, they are a bit abnormal, kind of like us, and we kind of have history! What is the point in having connections if you cannot rely on them sometimes?"

"Hmm...Well it's worth a shot. We moving to Manhattan then?"

"No no no! See, this is the best part! I set up our new lab in Las Vegas for a reason! They are coming HERE." Hector beams.

"I thought it was just cuz you liked the slots. But alright. We'll try it. Can't hurt after all. We hit up those psychos and killers and some throw us some cash if we're lucky. Maybe I can get some reparations from that guy who electrocuted you." Vector says.

"They are not all bad Vector. So please, behave yourself."

"Only if you stay awake while we chat with them." Vector snorts.

And so, Professors Hector and Vector bided their time. They weren't completely sedentary, beginning early prototyping and planning on Shen 2.0, writing appropriate programming, starting a Kickstarter but not getting the funding, and still finding any ear willing to hear them out on investing, but they knew their greatest chance for continuing the Hector Labs brand would come in May, when the Kobbers came to town.

Six Months, Six Stories: November

NOVEMBER

After saying some calmer goodbyes to the rest of her family, Shimmer skates off into the stars, moving through the galaxies and exploring the cosmos as she makes the long trip to Earth.

"Ugh... my legs are tiiiired..." Shimmer says, space eating her words with its emptiness as she lets herself tumble through its darkness. The former Deck member grasps at her legs, rubbing the aching muscles inside as she sees Porphyrion, still a not-so-small marble in the distance.

"Why didn't I just hitch a ride with someone..." Shimmer's cheeks puff up, but her thoughts quickly change. A grumble in her stomach, not audible but felt, made her realize her situation even more.

"Craaaaaap, now I'm hungry too? Maybe there is like, some place near here or something... in space..."

Shimmer rights herself as best she can, not entirely sure which way is up after the free tumbling, and kicks her feet together, beginning a long skate through the stars once more. However, persistence and a bit of optimism can payoff...

In the distance, a metal structure looms, long and cylindrical but glittering with large spotlights beaming off in every direction. Had Shimmer not been emitting her own brilliant light, she would have likely been blinded by the shear power of the glow.

"YESSSSS! I knew I'd find something! Like, there has to be OTHER people who do this, right? Right?" Shimmer's energy is renewed by the sight, darting toward the building with little regard for the massive freight ships docking in it. She does not even bother looking for the door, instead passing right through the wall and skating into the first area that looked like an open room.

What she found surprised her...

"Aww sweat! It's like, some sort of outer spacey diner placey!" Shimmer jumped in place in glee to see she had not only landed herself in a place to rest, but a place to chow down as well! Bolting to the counter and ignoring the glares of obese amorphous alien truckers, she slams her hands down on the counter and calls the attention of the orange pinecone-looking thing that seemed to be handing out the food.

"HEY ORANGEISH PINECONE-LOOKING THING! What's on the menu? I'm staaaarving, and like, I haven't had anything to eat in... days? Maybe? Hours? Look, I don't like, know, ok?"

The creature growled and grumbled as it scooted over, looking over Shimmer before saying one word: "Mooooneyy?"

"Oh yeah! Of course! Money! Money for food, that's how it works, right? Um... Hmmm... Say... could I maybe like... start a tab?" Shimmer gives the pinecone creature a big toothy grin, her cheeks straining to contain the the white grin that was literally beaming. The pinecone creature had no eyes to blind, at least from what she could tell, but a nice smile always looks nicer in the light, right?

"Noooo tabbbbbs. Moooneyyyy onlyyyy." It growls, slowly shifting its body before it finds one of its bract scales grabbed by the desperate young woman.

"PLEEEEEASE mister pinecone thingy! I'm starving.... OH! I know! I can work for you! Like, dishes or something! OR!! OR, tables! Wait tables, right? I got skates, I'm fast!"

The pinecone creature turns back to Shimmer, still rather slow in doing so, and again utters one word: "Aaaaaage?"

"Aaaaage? Aaaaage.... OH! Age! Like, how old I am! Duh. Ok, I am sixteen years old! My birthday is July 25th, and-"

"Toooooo younggggg. Musssssst beeeee eiiiiiighteeeeeen." The creature mutter before finally turning away for good. Which is fortunate for it, because it gets to miss Shimmer slamming her head into the counter in defeat. Her stomach growls again as she lets herself fall to the ground.

"Eighteen? Eighteen? Why do I have to be eighteen? I'm good at stuff! I don't need to wait two years to be good at stuff!"

As she mopes on the ground though, Shimmer notices a few of the grubby looking trucker monsters moving up a staircase at the side. She could not read the sign they were following, but she could see what looked like some sort of food on the sign.

"AH! More places! More work! I'm not gonna die of no food yet!" Shimmer says, the tears in her eyes evaporating as her pupils glow brilliantly and the skater girl immediately jumps from downtrodden to upbeat and from floor one to floor two.

Floor two was manned by a more humanoid looking creature, although it looked more like mannequin than anything, right down to the lack of a face and odd lines where the limbs could be attached. It was undoubtedly organic though, but it had a few doubts as Shimmer came in demanding a job to work for food or pay.

"A.G.E.?" The mannequin said, each letter of the word seeming to be a separate sentence without actually spelling out the phrase.

"Eighteen! I am totally eighteen, been alive eighteen years! Can I work here pleeeeease?" Shimmer says, bounding up and down in anticipation.

"N.E.E.D. T.O. B.E. T.W.E.N.T.Y.O.N.E. T.O. W.O.R.K. W.I.T.H. A.L.C.O.H.O.L.I.C. B.E.V.E.R.A.G.E.S."

Shimmer's eager grin immediately turns upside down, and the mannequin does get to bear witness to this meeting of head to counter, although it is quick to lift her head and remove the scuff with little regard to the stream of tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm dying here man... doll... thing... I need fooooood. I won't touch the beer I swear! I'll be the best- FINE, walk away, I... I'LL JUST EAT ALL YOUR BAR NUTS!" Shimmer yells, snatching up the bowl of complementary nuts and scurrying to the next floor as she scarfs them down.

Shimmer sits tearfully on a stair finishing them, grimacing at their flavor and smell.

"Yuck, these things smell just like Everett..." Shimmer coughs, never having tasted a nut so ashy before. She should have really looked at the bargoers on that floor more closely, since most of them where business types whose hands were basically brimstone.

"Ok... FLOOR THREE, HERE WE GO!" Shimmer says, leaving the bowl on the stairs and entering the last pedestrian accessible business in the station.

What looked like a blue sun was working this floor, extending tendrils from its core to serve food and drink to anyone no matter where they sat. Shimmer had hardly entered the room before one extended, presumably expecting something like a coat or hat, but instead got Shimmer's hands wrapping themselves around the tendril.

"Hello mr. space sun blue guy! I am Shimmer and I would like a job here at... Your Place! It looks very nice and clean and I'm twenty one so I can be hired right?"

Mr. Space Sun Blue Guy's tendril quickly shifts into the creature's entire body instead, and it looks at the teenager with suspicious eyes. "Nice try, kid," is all it says, in a surprisingly quiet but incredibly audible voice, before both it and its tentacles proceed to ignoring her entirely.

With no counter to bang her head against, Shimmer instead crumples to the ground. The food in her stomach was all that kept her from weeping openly, but her sadness was hardly a secret.

"Great, no food, no job, no way to this Earth place Utsuho and the others are going to. I am totally super screwed..."

Shimmer's moping does not go unnoticed for long, as an automated being comes to try and shoo her out. Shimmer crosses her arms and legs and reluctantly refuses to move, and right as the robot begins to form a scoop to just lift her out, a rather human looking hand reaches for the robot's shoulder.

"Alright there friend, cool your jets. I got this." A man steps forward, no gimmicks to his appearance or speech, nothing odd about him except for being the only other human in this section of the station.

"Need some help up little lady?" He says, his voice jovial and friendly. Shimmer looks up at him suspiciously, cheeks puffed, but she eventually takes his hand, allowing him to pull her up.

"I'm not little, I'm 21..." she adds defiantly, but the man can't help but laugh.

"Now now, you can stop with the act. I don't care none about your age, but I do care about something else. Let me get something for you to eat-"

"YESSIR LET'S GO!" Shimmer says much too loudly, bolting into the restaurant before realizing she had no idea where this man's table was. This public embarassment was felt more than the others, and her arms shoot down and her body goes rigid as she waits to be shown where to sit.

The meal is ordered first before discussion begins... and a second meal... and a third meal. Shimmer wishes her friends could see her now eating like she is, but the stomach ache that follows proves that this big eating will not get a repeat performance anytime soon. As she groans and clutches her gut, the man begins to speak.

"Alright, so... You are one of them Kobbers, right?" He asks.

"Yeah! Oh well, I think so? I hope so! Like, I mean, I don't think there is any real WAY to become a Kobber or anything, at least I was never told about it. But like, if you think I'm a Kobber, I probably am one?"

"Good, good, you know them though, right?"

"Yeah totally! They are super cool! Why, you know them or something?"

"Yeah, you could say that... although they didn't call themselves that back in the day... Kobbers... funny name to pick for yourself."

"Yeah, like, I don't get it either, but like, people pick names for a reason you know? It doesn't sound bad once you get used to it!"

"I guess... Anyway, do you know that ghost Jumpropeman? The one who runs the fites?"

"Yeah! I mean... kinda? Like, I know a ghost runs those things, but like, I've never met him. He doesn't hang around in the bars or nothing, but I know people who do his fite things, and like, I see him when he's doing that. So I don't KNOW him, but like, I don't know you either old man, but I know you, you know?"

The man flinches at being called old, but he tries to keep up his friendly composure. Still, he finds himself talking more to himself than the girl in front of him. "Heh, the ghost couldn't bear to be around those he slaughters no more...Maybe he does have some form of conscious."

"Yeah, maybe," Shimmer says for no reason in particular.

"Look, you seem to be in a bad situation, and I like helping people in those. So listen here, I'll get ya some cash, a ride to Earth, all that and a pack of cigarettes-"

"Ugh, I don't like cigarettes. Everett always smoked those ALL THE TIME and it-"

"It... was an expression. Just, hear me out. Ride there, food, yadda yadda yadda, you, however, gotta do something for me."

"...Is this gonna get weird? Like, I've been offered stuff like this before, and I got a card put in me because of it. So... like, tell me what you really want and don't play pretend mister!"

"Nothing weird, I just need you to watch that ghost for me. Guys got a bloodthirst and he don't care what he does to people's lives. So, keep an eye on those fites of his, got it? If he does anything big... not Big Bar Brawl big, you'll know it when you see it, you call me up. I ain't gonna let him get away with hurting nobody else again..."

"Why not stop the regular fites then? Or the Big Bar Brawl? Or like, just him? Is he bad or something? Or strong? Or... what?"

"Look, it ain't that easy! I would watch the ghost myself if I could but I'm a busy man. All you got to do is watch him and report anything funky to me. Best case scenario: nothing happens, and you just walk away with some cash in your pocket. That's not bad, right? I'm trying to stop something bad if it happens, and well... the fites aren't bad necessarily... It's complicated, alright? Do you want the job or not?"

"YES! Sure! Okay! Sounds easy!

...there's no age requirement, right?"

The man laughs before getting up, leaving his money on the table for the sun creature and some to start Shimmer off before walking away.

"WAIT DUDE! You didn't give me your name! Or, like, a way to talk to you again? Or like, anything but money!"

The man was gone though, even as Shimmer skated after him, he managed to disappear amidst the many creatures as they rush in for what can presume is a mealtime in this sector of space. Shimmer droops, but clutching the money in hand, she begins to consider what to do with her time between now and May...

"I'm gonna go bug mr. pinecone man!" She states, skating down to the lower floor to begin her time in this odd interstellar truckstop. She would spend much of her time here, becoming a face of the place just as much as the mannequin, sun, or pinecone, still not working for them but always interacting with new faces as she learned more about the universe and life away from the medieval world of Porphyrion, and all the while, the money from the mysterious man would keep coming in...