Another crate to count.
Everything seems to be going just about right… but where the hell did this thing come from? There’s nothing on it. No paper, no holes to see what’s inside, no crew member to keep an eye on it. Must’ve been left behind. Someone’s going to end up on spending the night in the crow’s nest if that’s the case.
Oh well, it’s not my problem. Time to finish the count and then get some lunch… hmm. Wonder what that was. Sounded like a knock… ehh, screw it. I’m hungry.
“Anta-wa…… Tanuki desu.” the canine lawyer growled in Japanese, which I found endearing for some reason. “Anyways- I’m way ahead of you, Buckaroo.”
“Way ahead of me…how?”
Instead of answering my question right away, she looks around to see if Zombina is paying attention.
She’s not- her attention is directed at the field for now. Apparently she’s digging the band’s performance much more than either one of us.
Akagane begins rummaging through her purse and pulls out a copy of the Llano County Argus-Prospector before giving it a cursory look. She then pulls a leaf from her considerable cleavage and with a small puff of smoke, the newspaper changed into something else.
A comic book. The art style looked like some sort of manga and the cover art…..
And waited… until finally they cars began to appear… it was time.
“What the hell was that all about!?” I pant, bringing up my hat so that I can see.
“The oldest daughter in prior host family taught capoeira- she gave me a few lessons.”
“It’s a fighting style that originates from Brazil that incorporates common dance moves into-“
“I…I know what it is, Perri.” I mumble. “I’m just wondering why…”
“In Japan, I couldn’t fly as much as I would’ve preferred- but my host family sought other ways for me to remain physically active.”
“But…you’re….an apex predator! That’s like teaching a 700 lb gorilla how to use a crossbow!”
“Are you calling me a gorilla?” she scowled at me.
“I could call you a lot worse than that.”
“How the hell did you manage to get kicked out of a Bacchus temple for being drunk and disorderly?” Susan tried not to sound too impressed, but this really was a special feat. The temple was legendary for not giving a shit.
Kalista leaned forward, still swaying a little. “You ever hear of something called ‘Feeblemind’?” She asked with a grin.
“You mean that thing the Chaos worshippers drink for their rituals?”
“Yeah, that’s the stuff.” The cocky look on the Satyros’ face was replaced by confusion. She scratched her ear. “How’d you know?”
“You told me. You said you’d have to be insane to drink it.”
“…I did?” Kalista asked, looking distantly to the side in thought. Eventually she just shook her head and regained her cheerful composure. “Well, anyway, I was getting bored of the temple’s wine and fancied a change. So I got this bottle of the cultist’s stuff and thought it sounded like one hell of a party. Can’t really remember the rest…”
Susan sat upright with her eyes widened in horror. “You actually drank that stuff? Do you even know what’s in it?”
“Well, no.” Kalista said, downing the remains of her pint. “I wouldn’t really want to, either. I get the feeling it’d just put me off. Fancy another drink?”
I look around- surely it isn’t the redhead with patchwork skin on her face in the black and yellow jacket. She looks like she’s all business, and right now her business was babysitting this mysterious new guest and Smith. There was the other one off on the property somewhere that I caught a glimpse of on the way in.
As I turned to look around for her, I was aware of a darkness sweeping over me. It wasn’t a cloud- it was something else. Looking up, I briefly catch a silhouette of something with a distinctly feminine outline swooping down on me from above, a pair of outstretched feathery wings backlit by the glare of the sun.
Time stands still and that thought is quickly dispelled as something big whizzes by my head. Instinctively I raise my arm to shield my face, but the looming figure is gone just as quickly as she’s shown up.
And so is my Stetson.
I wheel around, not finding it on the ground right away. Still unsure of what’s going on, I see my hat being clutched in a pair of talons as a giant bird noiselessly flaps its wings over by Smith and the redhead. Only I can now see that its not a bird as the talons clutching my headgear hover a few inches off of the ground.
It’s a woman. A beautiful woman with feathery arms and a surprisingly voluptuous human figure whose legs tapered off to giant talons beneath the knees. The arms almost immediately taper off into almost surfboard-sized wings starting at the shoulder.
How can she fly with such a buxom figure? I thought harpies were supposed to be petite and slender for better flight efficiency. Her hair is platinum- almost white and she’s wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and a light colored tank top with spaghetti straps seemingly struggling to contain a rather impressive bust. With a quick kick of her talons, my hat was now being held loosely in one of her wings- a small clawed hand barely visible among her plumage as she hovers next to Smith.
Save for a tiny disdainful smirk flashed my way, she shows next to no emotion as she alights next to the woman in the dark suit.