savetheearth | a sinister kid who runs to meet his maker [CLOSED]

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a sinister kid who runs to meet his maker [CLOSED]

Who: Shiro and Mamoru
What: Brothers encounter some nasty customers at the Starbucks because apparently Mamoru is monster bait.
When: July 19, Afternoon
Where: the Starbucks where Mamoru works

Shiro often dropped in to bug his brother at work. Why not? It's not like he was ever really busy. How hard was making coffee anyway? Either way, it was tasty, and he got the employee discount when Mamoru was working.

"OooooNIIIIII-chaaaaan!" he calls out in his most irritating and cutesy voice, knowing good and well it drives Mamoru out of his tree to be called such a name. He takes off his hat and hangs it on a hook by the door that may or may not actually be for hats, "I'm here!"

He greets one of the other baristas, who smiles and rolls her eyes, before coming up to the counter. "The usual!" which, in summer, was a frozen mocha with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. "Oh and a piece of that marble cake… no, wait, three pieces! And a mini danish."

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Mamoru looked up from behind the espresso bar at the painfully familiar cry.

Man.

For some reason, Shiro's antics really pissed him off. They weren't a big deal most of the time, but today? Mamoru just didn't fucking want to deal with it. And besides, that window off to his left was covered in masking tape and paper, set to be repaired tomorrow. Who knew if those monsters would be back? And would two of them here at once draw them back sooner?

All this was what raced through Mamoru's head as he stomped around the counter, grabbed Shiro by the collar, and would do his damnedest to drag his twin out the door with a curt, "Come on, we need to talk."

"O-oi! What do you think yer doin'? Let me go! What about my coffee?" And snacks. Too many snacks. He doesn't put up much of a fight while being dragged out, but once they're outside the shop., he slaps Mamoru away and fixes his disheveled collar.

"Christ, what is WRONG with you? Who pissed in your cornflakes... like... the past few days, even?" He squints up at the sun, bright on a hot July day, and is thankful he didn't even have time to take off his sunglasses. He steps back into the shop only enough to grab his hat, then puts it firmly back on his head.

"What's wrong with me?" Mamoru hissed, pointing at the building. The broken window wasn't visible from this angle, since Mamoru had pulled Shiro out of sight of his coworkers, but it was there. "What are you doing, coming to a place like this? There was an attack here not even a week ago and you turn up looking for coffee? They know I'm here! What if they come back?"

He didn't dignify the cornflakes question with a response. Mamoru knew he'd been on-edge lately, that things bothered him a lot more easily than they used to, but that had to be the stress, right? Paranoia.

Shiro knew what Mamoru was gesturing to, and he hisses, "Well, you killed it, didn't you? Do you think they'd come back? Really?" He shakes his head, "I came because I always come, bro. This is all weird enough, I'm trying to stick to normal routines!"

He doesn't bother to press about the other issue. Not if his twatwaffle brother was going to act this way. He folds his arms and looks away. "I'll just leave."

Shame that a car speeds by just as something scrabbles about in the shadows of the alley nearby, or else they might have heard it.

"You think they won't? There could be hundreds of these things running around the city. I'll bet you anything they'll be back, with more this time. You don't want to be around when that happens." Mamoru folded his arms too, staring directly at Shiro. He would have felt at least a little bad under any other circumstance, but Shiro needed to go. Like, now. He wasn't going to budge about this. "Sorry. But you can't sta--agh!"

The alley nearby was pretty full -- trash cans along the walls, cardboard boxes piled up, the usual retail debris. A black, hairy creature had crept onto the top of one of the trash cans behind Mamoru, and quick as thought it pounced onto the back of his neck, sending him stumbling forward.

"... Yeah. You're right. Sorry." Damn Mamoru, why you always gotta be so logical. Damn these monsters... now how was he going to bother his brother?

But Shiro sees the movement before the thing leaps. However, he doesn't have the time to even yell "look out!" before the hairy whatever-it-was was on Mamoru. It was a mess of black fur, flailing arthropod legs, and beady, gleaming eyes. "S-shit!! Get off of him! GET OFF!"

Shiro punches at the thing, hitting it right in the beady eyes, which causes it to let go and fall to the ground. But that's not all. In the alley, Shiro can see more movement; somethinf fluffy and white and then one that seemed to be... calico? He realizes, with horror, that these are cats.

Huge horrible spider cats.

He grabs Mamoru's shoulder to haul him up. "We gotta run, NOW!"

Because Mamoru is the one with the cool head and the even temper. Right?

Anyway, once Mamoru's free of the thing and on his feet again, he gets a good look at the things for the first time. A deep, uncontrollable shudder runs through him.

"Oh my god."

One of those had been on him. What if it had bitten him? Who knew what spidercat venom did? The horror of it froze him, but only for a second. For once, he agreed completely with Shiro -- they had to run. Mamoru turned around, grabbing Shiro by the arm, and took off down the street at a sprint.

"And I thought the birds with feet-hands were bad!" he shouted as they ran.

One of them had to be.

These things were way creepy. With clawed spider legs and multiple beady, glowing eyes, they're the stuff of nightmares. But they don't have time to stand and gawk. Shiro takes off after his brother at a full run.

"These are worse! THESE ARE WAY WORSE!"

The pack of tarantucats is hot on their tails. Two bound along the ground and one crawls on the walls of the buildings. Shiro looks over his shoulder and comes to yet another horrifying realization; they're faster than he and Mamoru. Well... faster than him, at least. He was more out of shape than his brother, and already he could feel his lungs burning.

"Shit...!"

Like hell was Mamoru leaving Shiro behind. When his brother began to flag, Mamoru skidded to a halt. He turned around, stepping in front of Shiro, between him and the monsters. Mamoru's shoulders were square, his hands clenched into fists, ready to stand and fight.

He didn't have a weapon, and he didn't see anything nearby that could be useful. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Stay behind me!"

The three spidercats would be on him in a moment more. If he could just grab hold of one...!

Shiro is already out of breath even after running only a couple of blocks. It was ridiculous. He really needed to get into shape.

"If I survive this, I'm going to the gym, I promise."

But wait... weren't there three? Shiro only counts two, looking over Mamoru's shoulder. Two scuttling on the ground at high speed. Where was the third one...? Shiro looks around. Had it gotten ahead of them somehow?

Meanwhile, the two tarantucats on the ground -- the black and the calico -- leap for Mamoru, hissing, with their huge fangs dripping venom.

Goddammit... I'm so useless!

He doesn't immediately notice the movement on the wall above them.

Mamoru's hands open, and he grabs the calico catspider by the neck. He swings it around and slams it into a nearby streetlight. Hard. It goes limp in his hands, and he drops it -- but not in time to keep the second one from sinking its claws into his upper arm. It climbs up him and the way it moves is all wrong, oh god, just touching its coarse fur is disgusting -- all plans are thrown to the winds as he grapples with it, trying to keep its fangs out of his skin.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god...!

Mamoru didn't notice the movement at all -- his entire world was augh ew catspider gross GET IT OFF.

The sickening crack of the monster hitting the lightpole makes Shiro flinch. And the sight of it, lying there, broken, after Mamoru drops it? Well, that almost makes him puke. He holds his hand to his mouth and looks away, then up at the sky to try and stave off the nausea.

And that's when he sees it. Not five feet away, directly above Mamoru, is the fluffy white tarantucat, crawling down the wall and ready to pounce. Shiro doesn't even have time to yell out. He has to act, fast. The monster coils its mismatched limbs, a twitch the only indication that its about to leap. Shiro sprints back to Mamoru's side, pushing him out of the way by bashing right into him with his shoulders. For his effort, he's granted a disgusting hybrid beast landing on his back and sinking its fangs into his shoulder.

He lets out a cry of pain, the venom causing intense burning pain all through his body. But he turns his body and grabs the tarantucat by a pair of legs and slams it to the ground.

Mamoru had hold of the last cat by its neck, keeping it at arm's length as it clawed and hissed and spat. He was about to deal with it, kill it or knock it out or whatever he had to do, when he heard Shiro's cry.

He spun around, face filling with horror as he sees Shiro take that bite. "Shit!"

Almost without thinking, Mamoru cracks the last spidercat against the wall, and it goes limp in his hands. Ignoring the scratches in his own arms, he reaches out and grabs Shiro by the upper arms. "It -- it got you! Are you okay?"

God dammit, what did you do for a spider bite...? You were supposed to catch the spider and take it into the hospital, right, in case it was deadly so they could give you an antidote?

But they wouldn't have spidercat antivenom...! What the hell was he supposed to do here?!

"It's fine, I'll be fine! I'm... urk..." He doubles over as he feels the burning pain from the venom change directions and go back to the site of injection. The two holes from the fangs swell up, then something yellowish leaks from them.

The venom. It dribbles out, soaking into his ruined shirt harmlessly.

Once all of it is excreted from the holes, they boil up with that all too familiar white goo, and close over like nothing happened. Shiro doesn't even have time to catch his breath before another familiar sensation overtakes him. A weird pulse, a feeling of vertigo and emptiness, and something white shrouds him. It seems to just appear from the air, like mist, then coagulates around him in the form of some weird new clothes. Bright white, loose, and definitely not in his usual style.

"What the..."

Oh. Oh, that was right, Shiro could heal now... Mamoru had nearly forgotten.

Still. He took that spider bite for me. It's damn lucky he can heal, or else... Mamoru didn't want to think about what would have happened. His eyes dropped to the ground.

People keep getting hurt because of me. The monsters were here for me. Why do people around me keep getting caught in the crossfire? His brow furrowed. How do I stop this? he wondered, with a note of desperation. How do I protect the people I care about...?

Then, a pulse, now familiar, nearly in time with Shiro's. Dark energy manifests around Mamoru, creeping and tendril-like, and then it snaps into shape. Mamoru is now wearing a mirror image of Shiro's clothes, only black where Shiro's are white, and white where Shiro's are black.

He stares, first at Shiro, then down at himself. "What the hell are you wearing?" Mamoru asks, agape. "Hell, what am I wearing?"

Healing apparently included expunging foreign substances as well. There was still a burning sensation from residual venom, especially right around where the wound was, but that was nothing his metabolism couldn't handle, either.

That healing was probably why he jumped there in the first place. Would I have done that if I couldn't heal? ... No. I still would have. He's my brother!

The swirls of dark and light seemed to mirror each other. In fact, it also seemed like they came from the same point before branching off to their respective twins. Shiro looks at the sleeves, then the pants and the tied sash.

"I have no friggin' idea! Your's are just the same! ... Except inverted," thanks, captain obvious. "Did these come from that SFB -- an Echo? You felt it too, right?"

"I'm pretty sure there's no way to miss feeling one of those pulses, then getting put in weird-ass clothes," Mamoru said, picking at the folds of his shirt. "Are these friggin' hakama?" he muttered.

"The PANTS definitely are! They're totally huge!" He frowns, "But that's how they're supposed to be, right?" he turns to look over his shoulder. "Weird. First pajamas, now these..."

"At least your pajamas didn't happen in public," Mamoru groaned, pulling the puffy-sleeved shirt off. "Thank god no one saw us -- and thank god our normal clothes are still underneath! No way am I walking back into work in this."

Shiro does the same, yanking the white shirt off and realizing that the black underneath is actually a whole other shirt in the process. Ugh. Layered clothes, in summer? No thanks. Then off come the pants. He sort of balls them all up in a semi-folded mess.

"I can't believe you're going back to work after all that," Shiro lets out a sigh, then takes a step back toward the direction of the Starbucks, where he left his bike.

And his leg gives way under him.

With the adrenaline of the fight going away, the impact of his healing becomes apparent. He's so friggin' tired and hungry that it takes effort to sit back up and grabs a small candy bar from his back pocket.

"Goddammit it's like I'm fucking diabetic," he complains breathlessly "Does Starbucks sell anything with meat in it? I gotta eat something more substantial than this before I try and drive back home. Hrrrrhhhhrrrrrfff, so tired..." and faceplant into the concrete. Luckily he's not that far off the ground when he does it.

Mamoru's hopping out of his own puffy pants when Shiro collapses. He sighs, rolls his own set of new clothes up and tucks them under an arm, and then crouches down to help haul his brother to his feet.

"Yeah, we've got sandwiches and stuff. Come on, I'll get you something before you go."

"Alright, good. Good..." he grumbles as Mamoru helps him up, then grabs his bundle of clothes. Then he pauses, and takes the black sash from the hakama and ties it around the bundle for easy carrying.

"Let's go. And hope nothing else shows up."

"This is the one and only time you're getting free food, you know," said Mamoru, glancing at his twin sidelong. "Don't get used to it."

"Yeah yeah... whatever. You say that now," he snickers.

But hey, he wasn't going to complain.

"Don't get any ideas!" Mamoru grumped, back in that irritated state he'd been finding himself in more and more. "I can hear you thinking about it."

"Oh CAN you? Well what am I thinking about right now, huh?" he jokingly shoves at Mamoru, nearly falling over in the process, "Ok, can't do that..."

"Dumbass," he grumbles, hauling Shiro inside and over to a table near the door. "Sit down, I'll grab you something from the back."

By the time they make it back to the Starbucks, Shiro looks like he's about to pass out. He slumps at the table and his hat falls down over his face. "Ughhh... hurry.... I might just eat this table..."

"Don't even think about it."

A minute later, Mamoru drops two small boxed ham-and-cheese sandwiches onto the table in front of Shiro. "Sorry, but we don't have a lot more back there. Everything else is raw and frozen, but heating it up's gonna take time, and I'm still on the clock."

He glances nervously at the other baristas. He's explained this by saying his brother wasn't feeling well, but he had a feeling that he'd be fielding a lot more awkward questions before the day was over.

Shiro offers a somewhat helpful "low blood sugar" comment to a patron who seems concerned about his well being. It's... kind of true?

When Mamoru drops off the sandwiches, Shiro opens one up and lays into it. "This should be plenty for me to get home, at least. Thanks, bro. I'll get you back, sometime. You get back to work."

He feels for Mamoru, he really does. His job was taken care of thanks to Eugene, but Mamoru was a different story. So he's sincere when he promises to get him back.

Mamoru doesn't think anything of it -- casual promises from Shiro were a dime a dozen. He drops a hand to Shiro's shoulder, patting it -- "Don't mention it. Be careful, okay?" -- before heading back behind the counter, missing the moment of sincerity entirely.

So much for that. Shiro horfs down his sandwiches, instantly feeling better. Not 100% by any means, but plenty to make his way back home.

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a sinister kid who runs to meet his maker [CLOSED]

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