B&B: Detective Agency

[Jacobo_Curious]

"Welcome to Beauty and Brains, Detective Agency! We're the best detectives in Warner City; in fact, we're probably the only detectives in Warner City. The police are privately owned and operated, the mayor is sponsored by the Mafia, and justice lies only in our hands! I, the adorable young lady that stands before you, am the one and only Devin Kitty -- D to my friends, Miss Kitty to you! -- and I count for both parts of the operation. That guy back there? I only keep him around cuz he has a robot suit."

"...and I keep the bills paid. And keep food in the fridge. And fix everything. But don't mind me... I'm not important."

"Such pursuits involving material possessions are not my forte, unenlightened one! For I am the Zen Sweetness! The Amazing Martial Artist Psychic Detective! The beautiful, the brave, D Kitty!"

"And I'm, uh... what was it?"

"'Super Genius, Piloter of the Living Machine, Peter Steele'!"

"...can you just introduce me every time, then? Because I'm going to be too embarassed to say that."

"Beesh... where is your showmanship, doll?"

"Showmanship? You said you were a Zen master. And you spent half our last paycheck on clothes! I barely had enough money to repair the lens in A.R.M.: PHID's positron cannon!"

"Amassing money is not our goal... we live only to fight crime, with passion, virtue, and a warrior's spirit! We have no need of accumulating wealth!"

"Though you seem to have no trouble accumulating a considerable wardrobe."

"You live to fight crime. I live to fight crime stylishly! Now get back to the kitchen, man! I think I smell bacon burning!"

"...how could this happen to ME...?"

<< --- >>

B&B, Detective Agency is starting out as a closed thread between me and Armphid -- but if any of you guys like the way it looks, feel free to read on, cuz once we get things established, it would definately be cool to have some other heroes and recurring villains pop in for fun. ^_^

This isn't really a superhero thread -- powers are subtle, and are always explainable by at least some form of pseudo-science, or at the very least a few jokes. I'm getting a sort of Lupin the 3rd feeling from this thread, only with better animation. But there seem to be plenty of mad sciencists, international syndicates, and super-rich villains around; at least, just enough of them for a trust-funded girl with a mysterious past and a strange ability to kick butt and look good doing it, and a young prodigal biogenetics/engineering simultaneous-degree graduate with a crazy-awesome new robot suit, to make a living beating them up.

Enjoy!

(Yo, ARM, I hope you like readin'. I hope you don't mind I ran your character a little bit, just to cover the background. I'll set up the beginnings of the first case my next post; I refrained from describing Peter physically, so you can do that yourself. Feel free to add anything you want by having Peter "look back". )

<< --- >>

How could this happen to Peter Steele, indeed?

Maybe it all started from watching too much Gundam; or perhaps just having too much free rein over his lab. The Company really let him do whatever he wanted to. And they could afford to, for they really were THE Company. America Incorporated. Their CEO was even the President of the United States. Their entire board of directors had been appointed to the Supreme Court. Everything ran very smoothly. Almost anyone could find a job in The Company, though they weren't always fun jobs. But when they were, you could live a great life. By company rules.

But sometimes, when an employee got a good idea, the Company got a good idea too...

It was on his fifth ice-cold can of Company Cola ("Sales Are Down? Just Throw In Some More Caffeine") that Peter got his great idea for a prototype armored suit. As he was unable to sleep for the next three days, he hammered out the designs in record time, and then he himself began to create the actual robot suit. Using the latest in biogenetics, computer science, and engineering technology, Peter was able to create the real deal: a partially-organic mobile human transport device. It was faster, stronger, and more efficient than anything ever created, and even had something akin to A.I. -- it could protect the wearer with its own powerful computer systems and algorithims while still leaving the human in charge.

It was A.R.M.: PHID -- the Automatic Reflex Mechanoid: Prototype High Impact Design.

The possibilities were endless! Deep-sea exploration! SPACE exploration! Protection for construction workers! Anything!

Anything at all...

The order to attach their latest positron cannon admittedly made Peter suspicious. Then he was forced to make it so the super-light super-strong mechanical gripping arms could be retracted to be replaced by laser swords with the press of a button. Then it was the shoulder-mounted rapid-fire laser weapon and proton torpedo launcher. Finally, he was forced to accept it: his ARM would be used as a weapon for warfare.

In desperation, he fled halfway across the country, to the place no one would think to look to for a straight-laced fellow like himself: Warner City, populated only by criminals and tourists.

And now by one very nervous scientist, and apparently, by one mysterious and spunky young lady...

<< --- >>

Peter Steele stumbled down the street, sweat dripping from his face. It was too hot to be wearing a labcoat, but he hadn't brought anything else. He had panicked. If he had taken an airplane, maybe he would have done something besides withdraw all his money from the company back account and place it in a seperate, non-affiliated bank (it took him an hour or two, but he finally found one). Instead, he had taken the ARM. And hidden it in a warehouse he had just rented. And now he just needed lunch.

What was he doing? How could he live on his own? Without the company? With no job? He wouldn't last. He had money, but not that much money. He'd have to flee the country. But he really wasn't a traveling fellow... he just wanted to settle down. Find a nice, intelligent, quiet young woman with a liking for men who built fighting robots for a living and just live a peaceful life. Working for the Company.

...though, admittedly, this was sort of fun, in a perverse way.

Maybe the Company life could wait until he was, like, 25.

"Hey... science boy."

Peter looked up automatically. In high school, that had pretty much been his name. However, in high school, the bullies had never been quite this big. And never had quite so many friends. Who weren't ever quite so drunk.

The biggest one, staggering forward, grimaced -- oh, no, wait, that was a smile. "You're new here, huh? You haven't paid your protection fee." He gestured awkwardly to his friends. "Yeah, this tourist hasn't made his, ah, donation to our drinking fund, has he?"

"Protection fee? Oh, no, thank you! I don't really need to be protected from anyone." Peter smiled winningly. "I really do appreciate it though, you guys. Do you know a pleasant place where I could sit down and have a quiet lunch near here? Urk!"

A different big man had grabbed Peter's collar, but had promptly let go, smiled, and then threw up all over the street -- well, guess that one was a grimace, then -- before grabbing Peter's collar again. He muttered something about knuckle sandwiches.

"Oh," said Peter, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. And suddenly he wasn't feeling so hungry anymore.

"Warthog, are you hitting on little boys again?" A deadpan, feminine voice.

All six of the men and Peter -- who had never been called Warthog before, but was still curious -- turned their heads to look at where the girl's voice was coming from, and stared. The girl let her sunglasses slip down her pert little nose and stared right back.

She was a slim little creature with long brunette hair and large doe brown eyes, a well-tanned female specimen in short forest-green shorts stretched across rounded hips and a tangerine tank top with the word "Angel" written in glitter across the modest curve of her small breasts. She was cute. Very cute. And didn't look like she was in any position to be taunting six grown, misbehaving men. But there was a look in her eyes; though warm, there was something deeper within them, something cold, or melancholy, or strong, something difficult to identify. She smiled with genuine amusement, but the creature inside watched mercilessly.

Then she blinked, and it was gone. Perhaps she really was just dumb.

"Aww, Kitty, don't spoil our fun," replied the biggest man, who was apparently Warthog. "We're just fooling around with this guy. Don't worry about him. Why don't you help us bum a few drinks off him?" He punched Peter lightly in the shoulder -- the scientist thought he felt something splinter -- and smiled, yet again revealing missing teeth and the reek of his breath. Classic. "Come on, kid, you'd pay for the pretty girl, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not easily bought," replied Kitty, with a hint of archness. With the deadpan from before gone, it was revealed that her voice was actually lilted quite prettily. "It at least requires extensive haggling."

At this point, Peter wasn't exactly sure what happened. Someone said "haggle this", or something, and then everything inexplicably exploded into fighting. He finally decided that the girl and this group had a sort of history, and they had just been waiting for the right moment. But it seemed as though they had picked the worst possible moment, because within seconds Warthog and one of his pals were down from vicious kicks to the head.

Kitty dodged a swung board, ripped from the window of an abandoned old shop. "You must not mistake viciousness for true warrior spirit," she said airily, booting another badguy in the nose with a sneakered foot. "Search inside for the true passion. Here, I will steer you away from the wrong course." This was followed by a heel kick to another man's groin. Ow. "You must be like the crane! Or was it the tiger?" Here, a snap kick to a solar plexus, followed by a spinning roundhouse to another dude's face. "Huh... I guess both work fine."

In less than ten seconds, all six of them were down. She had managed to hit critical blows in every strike. She had dodged every attack without really seeing them.

Why, Peter thought, she's like a human A.R.M.!

If I made A.R.M.s look like her, would they sell better?

"You starin' at my butt?" said Kitty, without turning around to face him. Peter jumped a little. "Busted, cutie!"

Ohh, good point. The bust. I'd have to fix that. THEN they'd sell better.

"...this is where you profusely thank me for saving YOUR butt."

"Huwaah?" Peter Steele managed, blinking rapidly. "Oh! Yes, uh, thank you. I was... distracted. By thoughts of my latest invention."

"Oohwohh! An inventor!" The girl turned her head to him and flipped her hair over her shoulder, grinning, and stuck out her tongue with a wink. Her sunglasses, which had somehow managed to stay perilously balanced on her nose, caught the sunlight dramatically. It was a nice effect. "Totally awesome, dude. You should buy me lunch and tell me about it."

"I should...?" She gave him a look that made him wonder if seven men would be any more trouble than six. "Uh, yes, I should."


<< -- beewoobeewoo (Justice League shooting star scene change thing) -- >>


"...and that's why I'm here in Warner City," Peter finished, cutting his tempura into bite-size pieces with clean, easy strokes. "The A.R.M. is still in the warehouse, Miss, uh, Kitty."

"It's Devin Kitty, so ya know," the young girl replied, between slurping up her soba noodles noisily and drinking the Company Cola Slushee she had made him buy on the way to the Japanese restaurant. "But you can call me D." Putting down her slushee, she arched her back and stretched like a cat before looking Peter in the eye again. He tried to pretend he hadn't been staring at her belly button. "So let me get this straight, man of Steele. You've built this awesome giant robot--"

"--robot suit--"

"--and you're going to fly away to space--"

"--I was thinking France--"

"--and not blow anything up?"

"The whole point was to avoid any blowing up of anything, thank you."

Devin leaned back in her chair and slouched, smiling easily. Her eyes seemed to sparkle when she did that. "You're a sweetheart, aren't you? Wanting to preserve peace..."

"U-Uh..." Peter couldn't help but blush just a little. "It's not that admirable. I'm running away. I don't want a dangerous life, but I can't let ARM PHID be used for destructive purposes."

"Well, things will get destroyed no matter what you do. Especially if you run away, pal. You know, in the right hands, a tool like what you've got could really be put to good use. From the way you've been talking--" A waitress shrieked as she slipped right next to them and fell towards the ground, a plate hurtling down with her. Faster than the eye could see, Devin had one had supporting the waitress and the other holding the plate. Her gaze had never left Peter's, and her expression hadn't changed. "--you might have the knack for that sort of thing. You know: you seem trustworthy. But you've got no skill at keeping yourself out of trouble. You need help for that. A partner. Actually, I know an extremely intelligent, astoundingly attractive young woman who would be willing to help you..."

"How do you do that?"

For once, Miss Kitty looked taken aback. "Do what?"

"React to things without looking at them."

She smiled again. "Oh, that. Well, people are predictable, you know? They follow rules. So do things. If you can focus while being relaxed, be aware while being yourself and cutting loose, you've found your warrior spirit. Know the rules, feel the rules, and you'll know when to act and when not to. Sometimes you can even break the rules. You know what I mean?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you just said."

The brunette giggled merrily. "Of course not. I'm the Zen Sweetness! The beautiful, the brave, D Kitty!"

Peter shook his head, bewildered. "Where did you come from?"

"Irrelevant." Devin slurped some more of her noodles. "The question is, where should we set up our detective agency? Let's rent a nice studio apartment. Tomorrow you can get to setting up a laboratory in that warehouse you rented."

"Huwaah?"

"You need a cover. I need something to do. You have a robot suit and nothing to do with it. I see crime all over this city and people in need of help, that I'd be willing to help if I had enough power to do so. But even I know my limits. But I feel my destiny intertwined with yours. I think if we worked together, we could accomplish some great things." The girl started to lean forward, staring into his eyes. Peter started to lean back, progressively blushing more with each inch he scooted back his chair. Devin was now standing, and looming over the table at him. "Don't you feel it? Don't you feel the connection between us?"

All he felt was nervous.

But he did need a cover. This girl had helped him out. And now she knew his secret. And, strangely, he geniunely felt like he could trust her. Maybe he was just desperate. Maybe he just hadn't been this close to a real live girl in a while. But at least he'd be safe with her.

It'd just be a temporary thing, anyway.

"Sure," he said. "Sure I do."

<< --- >>

It had been an exhausting evening, but now the purchase of the spacious studio apartment room was completed, he had several new sets of clothes that he really didn't want to examine out of sheer terror of what they might contain, and that bizarre girl had somehow, at some point, conned him into buying her two more slushies. It was those eyes, he thought. They just drew you in, and suddenly you were all like, "You know, I've always wanted a pair of plaid pants," or, "You're right! Why don't people wear bowties around their foreheads?" It didn't help that her lecturing on Zen was strangely hypnotic as well.

Was she still talking? Wait, no, it was about something else. She had just finished unloading a backpack she had produced from nowhere. It contained several small books, a stuffed blue bear, and lots of clothes. "...Beauty and Brains," she was saying. "B and B. We'll talk more once I get out of the shower." She tossed her backpack at him. "Here, finish hanging up my clothes, will you?"

More mechanically than the A.R.M. itself, Peter opened up the backpack and began to draw out all sorts of ecletic clothing. His eyes traveled across the books on the makeshift bookcase: Miyamoto Musashi, Shingen Takeda, Nietzche, Kesey, graphic novels, some sort of encyclopedia on puppies, a thick Comp book with all the pages torn out and replaced by various unfinished crossword puzzles. These, and her clothes, appeared to be the whole of this girl's possesions. Hanging up the clothes, the young scientist felt the weight of his exhaustion dragging him down to the bed, but he doggedly continued on. He wasn't sure exactly what the hell had happened today, but if it was all a dream, he was at least going to see it to its completion.

Speaking of the bed... where was the other one?

Lost in his own befuddlement, Peter looked down at the two bras he had retrieved from the bottom of the backpack, and, in the most scientific manner, looked at the tags. "B and B," he murmured dreamily.

"I'm out of the shower, so you should stop rifling through my underwear," said D, rubbing one eye tiredly, though still smiling. She was wearing a white dress shirt, mostly buttoned up, and little baby blue pajama pants with pictures of wrestling puppies adorning them, and a small towel held up her hair. Removing the towel and shaking her shimmering hair out, she marched up and collapsed on the cool white comforter of the large bed, pulling down the sheet and snuggling in closely. "Good night, doll. You really look like you need some sleep. You've had a hard day, what with running away from home and all."

Peter had just frozen.

Okay, admittedly, he'd lost track of time a lot today. And he was sort of in shock. But he hadn't even noticed that he had been putting clothes away for almost twenty minutes, for one thing. For another thing, he had just packed away about fifteen pairs of panties and hadn't even noticed what he was doing. And now there was a girl who looked like she was just out of high school going to sleep right next to him. In the only bed in the apartment.

What was a shy but virile young scientist to do?

He probably just stared at her for about five minutes straight. Then, carefully, only taking off his shoes, socks, and coat, he slipped in on the far side of the bed. Faaar on the far side. So he was practically falling off. And there was still no, no, totally no way he'd get to sleep tonight. Totally no way.

He was out like a light within seconds.

 

[Armphid]

His vision was slightly distorted, being piped in from the many cameras situated over the mechanoid's frame. The lab looked at though he was viewing a recording of it, a high quality one, but streaming the data through the cables still give it that TV look. He flexed his right hand, and the A.R.M's hand flexed as he did. Pete closed his eyes in the suit's cockpit, but he still saw. Even with his eyes closed.

"What?" His eyes, hazel orbs that could hide nothing, opened once more, obviously concerned. "Yes, we're leaving." There was a pause, as the presence within the mechanoid touched his mind. "They'll use you for terrible things, that's why." "No, it's not being a warrior that's bad." "That can be a good thing, it all depends on what you fight for and who you fight." He sighed, "But eventually, every weapon is replaced by a new model and sold to those who use it against the innocent." "People they don't like or who are the wrong tribe or religion." "I don't want you to be a part of that."

No matter what it would cost him. Which was everything. He felt a warm sensation, and smiled. "Thank you for caring." "No, we won't be coming back here again." "We'll have to find a new home." He felt a trepidation and shook his head, the ends of his jaw length black hair moving with the gesture. "It's scary, I know." "The world can be like that, but we can't stay here." "Besides, there are wonders in the world too." "No." "I promise...whatever happens...I'll be with you." "I won't leave you alone."

********

A dream. Or a memory. Pete Steele felt refreshed but unwilling to move. The bed was so soft and warm...and he'd been so tired. Drowsy eyes opened for a moment, glared at the brightness coming from between the slats of the blinds and resolutely shut again. He'd get up in five minutes. Such a crazy dream...that wierd but terribly cute girl...the detective agency...maybe if he went back to sleep he could dream aobut that some more.

Snuggling closer to D, he smiled as he inhaled the fresh scent of her lusterous hair. He could feel her breath on his face as she slumbered. Mmmm...it was nice to be in bed with her like this...

Pete's eyes snapped open, the scientist shocked to being fully awake, the drowsy state breaking in his mind with the sound of a glass window shattering. He was lying on his side next to her, so close their bodies were almost touching, the petite brunette facing him as she slumbered. His eyes were wide and afraid, his hair feeling as if it was trying to stand on end. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! If she woke up now, there'd be nothing left of him but a smear on the floor where she dragged his broken body out of the apartment. Probably going right back to sleep after his horrible death.

He stared at her for a few seconds, pondering his options while trying not to get distracted by how good she looked asleep. Her lips were moving slightly, as though in her dreams she was speaking, and he wondered briefly if stealing a kiss would be worth a horrific pummeling.

Finally, he closed his eyes. That was better. If he couldn't see her, he couldn't get pulled in by her...whatever she did to him. Carefully, slowly, trying not to make too much movement or sound at once, he began to inch toward the edge of the bed. His progress was agonizingly slow, and once when her soft almost snore broke off, he froze, thinking she'd awoken and found him out. A moment later, he heard motion. Carefully peaking an eye open, he saw that she'd just turned over. Moments later, he felt his butt hanging in mid-air, and slipped a leg over side. Finally sliding out of bed, he sank to the floor before peering up at her. Still sleeping, it seemed.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and got to his feet. Ick...he hated sleeping in his clothes...he always felt dirty in the morning. But the noise of a shower night wake her. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Miss Devin Kitty or whether he was sane for taking up with her or not. He also wasn't certain he could deal with her after just waking up. Leaving a brief note on the nightstand, he slipped out of the apartment. He had to see someone.

*********************

The warehouse was quiet, not that he'd expected anything else. He felt a sort of peace in the air...a sense of contentment and idle curiosity. He moved through the small office, and the personal space before coming out onto the main floor. Pete smiled, a hand pushing stray locks of hair from his eyes. "Good morning." "I hope you rested well, I've got a lot to tell you."

The A.R.M.H.I.D. stood 16 feet tall, towering above the scientist despite his being on the tall side. Metal/ceramic alloy armor covered the bio-tech inner structure and musculature, giving it it's robotic look. The upper arms and legs were gun-metal grey, meeting the black armor plates that made up the forearms, calves, and feet of the mechanoid. The armor skirt that covered the leg joints, crotch, and "butt" of the machine were the same black, the large thick plates cunningly joined to the torso. The broad torso was covered in the black plate as well, large shoulder-pads covering the vulnerable shoulder joints, also black. The head was vaguely pentagonal, and looked oddly like aperson wearing a helmet. Most of it was black, save for the crimson "visor" where the eyes would be on a person, and below that in the gun metal color of the upper arms and legs, a more or less human face fromt he nose down. On the shoulder pads, forearms, and calves were trim of royal blue, as well as on the sides of the torso going from the waist to where the mechanoid's pectorals were.

With the paint job, it was almost impossible to see the faint lines where the chest opened to reveal the cockpit. On it's back was the large "jump pack" that allowed the mechanoid to almost fly, and certainly "jump" great distances. On the right arm, attached to the forearm, the latest model vehicle mounted particle cannon gleamed. On the left shoulder was mounted the rapid-fire laser weapon, designed to look and fire like an old style mini-gun. Slung on the back, though it would deploy underslung on the left arm was the proton torpedo launcher.

Pete climbed up the scaffold he'd erected that went up to the cockpit. He placed a hand on the mechanoid's chest, looking up at it. "When I left yesterday, I met someone." "She's a very...unique person, and she wants to help us." "We're going to be working with her." He paused a moment. "Yes, I'm sure she'll want to meet you soon." Then he smiled, "Yes, she'll like you." "Don't worry." "I'm going to go get cleaned up and bring her to see you." He nodded, "I'll be careful."

Walking down from the scaffold he turned off the lights in the aging building. Except for the one directly above A.R.M.H.I.D. The great war machine was kind of afraid of the dark.

Now back to the apartment. He found himself wondering what would be waiting for him. One thing was for certain...this new life seemed as though it would not be boring.

 

[Jacobo_Curious]

The greatest warrior in the world sheathed his emerald blade in his frayed sash, and the sunlight reflected off the calm and strong, yet surprisingly compassionate, gaze of his black eyes. Eighteen opponents lay fallen before him, unconscious, struck by telling blows that would leave no lasting damage to their bodies or minds, and one lay on his knees before the warrior. "Have mercy," begged the villain, in a deep, yet strangely feminine voice. "We were misled. We misjudged you. Please! Spare our lives!"

"Whether you lie or speak truly matters not to me," replied the great warrior, who spoke in a kind and stern tone -- and also in a rather feminine voice. "However, I do indeed hope you have learned your lesson. Again I must say: do not torment the people of Devin's second drawer any longer, or you will face me in battle a second time. I am the protector of the innocent."

"No people are innocent!"

"No people and all people are innocent," returned the great warrior easily, his black pebble eyes gazing down at his prostrate foe. "Do not speak such meaningless truisms, fallen enemy. Instead, heed my words, for I am Brave Fencer Bluey... and there is a reason why I am invincible! If you would know that reason... follow me."

The villain let out a gurgled, final sigh before the last of his strength faded and he passed into unconsciousness, and Devin let go of his plastic form, allowing him to fall to the ground. She then pressed down on his limbs for a short while until they settled, so he looked more representative of a defeated foe. Smiling widely, she lived her stuffed blue bear up towards her room's ceiling lamp, watching as his small form, plastic green sword at his side, obscured the light.

"Do you detract from the light, or do you enhance it, Bluey?" the twelve year old girl asked the stuffed animal in her hands. "Or are you an expression of that light, the greatest proof of its existence?

Your perfect strength, your compassion, your self-reliance... you are the greatest warrior that has ever lived!"

"Devin!?" came a shaky woman's voice from close outside the room. "Shit... fucking... Devin, are you in there!?"

"I am the stuff of dreams," Bluey replied, quiet and gentle.

"Bluey... I--



--swear I'll never give up!! Don't... don't worry about me!!"

The seventeen year old girl, drenched in seawater, gazed up to the sky, tears streaming down her tanned cheeks.

"I am blessed...!"


<< --- >>


"...am...blessed..."

The sound of Peter closing the door behind him as he left caused the girl to stir and begin to stretch herself out over the entire bed, the thick comforter becoming entwined in her long legs. Her eyes opened a crack, and she idly reached up to scratch the back of her head, brushing her rich, dark chestnut (her version of "brown") hair out of her face.

"Num num num..."

Devin immediately stretched her back like an upside-down cat, her spine making quiet popping noises and her belly thrusting into the air, her loose white dress shirt riding up and the elastic of her baby blue pajama pants riding down. "Oohwohh," the brunette moaned, and she stayed in that position for several moments; then, when it seemed like she was going to relax again, she exploded into action, lifting her legs and kicking away the comforter as her back hit the mattress, and rebounding easily with the aid of the springs, she kip-uped into the air, rising to her feet ninja-style, and thanks to the bounciness of the mattress, she managed to do a complete flip in the air before landing on her bare feet on the ground.

"Taa-daa!!"

Sadly, there was no audience. But D was only disappointed for half of a moment. No, not even that long! One did not live for appreciation. One referred to it as an example of whether or not one was living in a way that offended or aided others. Self-respect came from within!

And so, in the name of self-respect, Devin ignored the piece of paper on the nightstand and took a twenty minute shower, dried her hair, applied a subtle amount of mascara and lip gloss, shook out her hair a couple times and then spent nearly half an hour stricking innumerable poses in front of the mirror and saying things like "It is a good day to die!" and "The Zen Sweetness, D Kitty!" Now, this would look like self-indulgence to any normal viewer. But, indeed, this was merely an expression of D's tremendous warrior spirit, which was impossible to siphon in any other way except for breaking down at least two brick walls every morning.

And she had just rented this place, so...

As soon as Peter walked back in the door, two shirts were thrown in his face. "Hey! Dude! Welcome home! You were out visiting the warehouse, right? Wait, wait, hold on!" The sounds of her footsteps echoed into the bedroom, where he heard the sound of paper crinkling and then a whoop of joy, whereupon the footsteps promptly echoed back into the entrance room. "Ohh! I was SO right! Anyway, Petey, I've decided you should wear those loose white vinyl pants today -- trust me, they will look awesome with those orange sneakers and your hair -- but I can't decide on whether you should just do that black sleeveness suede turtleneck or wear that totally awesome blue chamiouscloth workshirt over it." His arms went a little limp, so the clothes no longer obscured his view and he was able to see that the perky little princess had deposited herself on an extremely comfy-looking chair and was wearing what looked vaguely like a white martial arts gi, only it appeared to zip up the front, making the belt mostly ornamental, and comprised a pair of tight white shorts as well -- all one piece of clothing. She hadn't zipped the outfit up all that much, but she beamed sunnily at him, completely innocent. "Yo, I gotta do my exercises, so unless you really like watching girls get sweaty, you should probably change out of those gross clothes. Seriously though, martial arts is great. You'd be surprised how many people can be reformed if you just kick them in the head enough."

She stood up and faced the back of the tall chair, and closing her eyes, kicked one shapely, tanned leg up nearly parallel to her head before placing it on the top of the chair and leaning forward, stretching her muscles at a staggeringly steep incline.

"Anyway, what are you making for breakfast?"

 

[Armphid]

After the shirts were thrown in his face, Peter tried to speak several times. However, her rapid fire speech made it difficult to do so. What made it impossible was when he lowered the clothes and caught a good look at her. "Miss Kitty, I can dress mys...my...my."

Legs. Shapely legs in short tight shorts. His eyes bulged slightly as he looked further up and noticed with interest that the zipper of the outfit was barely zipped up. In that V shaped opening, he could glimpse all manner of-nothing! No, nothing! He jerked his eyes up, looking into her smiling face determindly. He saw nothing, nope, not him!

"Errmm...sweaty girls?" He blinked, then blushed, "Oh, ah, right." "Yes." "Well, I'd like to shower before I change, if it's all the same to you Miss Kitty..." "Why am I asking her permission," he thought.

Just then she turned around, placing her leg atop the chair and leaning over it, stretching. Which had the side effect of pushing her cute littel butt out and toward him. Striving not to notice, and then not to stare, he responded, not really hearing her last question. "As for breakfast, it all depnds on what's here." "I rarely do breakfast, but when I do I go into it." "Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, sauteed mushrooms and potatos if I have them and....what a minute." "Since when am I cooking breakfast?"

 

[Jacobo_Curious]

In a single smooth movement, Devin kicked up from the chair and spun into a high crescent kick and froze in mid-attack, and then tilted her head toward Pete and smiled. "Oh, but I'm so much better at kicking people in the head than cooking. So much better. So much better." She stared at his head with an odd objective air, as though measuring it for something, and then immediately burst into a sunny grin again.

"You go right ahead and take that shower, doll. I promise I won't peek. I've got to finish my stretches." Still grinning, she gave him a rather cheeky wink. "And then there are cartoons to see! But once that's done, we should have some work to do. You remember yesterday? No, you don't remember yesterday. I posted flyers all over. We'll be getting a... no, two customers today. I can feel it!" Her smile softened to warm and genuine. "We'll get to work together, and see how things go. I'm sure we'll find a way to put your robot suit to use."

"Trust me, we've got this market cornered. There's a big need for people like us."

 

[Armphid]

"P-peek?" The thought had never occured to him. He was still blushing though, and was furious at himself for doing it. She was joking, he knew that. On many levels. Aside from decency...who's want a look at a skinny guy like him? He wasn't the muscle bound type girls liked...he knew that. Though it was a pretty damn depressing thought.

He eyed her foot a moment, mentally caluclating the kind of force she could exert on his cranium. The math was difficult, the equation he'd developed long ago on a whim involved some complex variables, yet he came to an approximate figure in a moment. Not good. Then he sighed, "As long as I've got the stuff in the kitchen, I'll make you a very nice breakfast, Miss Kitty." "I think I'll go with the shirt by itself as well." He smiled wanly, then excused himself to the bathroom.

As he shaved and showered, he thought about her last words. "A need for people like us?" "Like who?" "Like an incredibly cute kung-fu whirlwind whose personality is as strong as a nuke?" He looked in the mirror, rubbing at her now clean shaven face, tapping the razor against the edge of the sink. "Or the shy geeky scientist who on a whim and a desire to be strong made a powerful machine...no, a being...that will become the most terrible weapon mankind has ever wielded." "Stealing it, being the only one who knows how to make it, destroying the files...it's only a delay." "They know it can be done now." "A need for people like us...I'm like Oppenheimer." "No one needs what either of us made for the love of science."

An hour later, the scent of frying eggs and bacon joined the sound of Devin's cartoons in the air of the apartment. His hair now neatly combed at Devin's insistance, Pete was at the stove, his clothes protected by a white apron that said "Kiss Me, I'm a Super Genius." In a way, he felt pleased. There was a disturbing joy in this. In making breakfast for a pretty girl, in living in some twisted, oddball fashion, like he was part of a family again. He hadn't had that for quite some time. He scraped the last of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and turned off the stove. There. "Miss Kitty, breakfast is ready!" "Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes."

As he made up the plates, he remembered something. "I, ah, almost forgot." "This will sound odd, but if you're...we're not too busy today, there's someone...something..hmm." "The status is still a question, even to me." "Anyway, the one I left the company with...would like to meet you."

 

[Jacobo_Curious]

Devin sprang up from her plush chair nimbly and rushed to the small table near the kitchen, clapping her hands excitedly. "Pancakes too!?" The tomboy practically shrieked with excitement and leapt into her chair, splaying herself out and smiling hugely. She had changed out of her gi about half an hour ago and was now wearing a pair of very tight black khaki pants, white socks, and a pale blue t-shirt with the words 'I Wish These Were Brains' written across the chest and a yellow smiley face drawn beneath. As Pete leaned down to place her plate before her, she ran a hand through his hair, neatly parted down the middle so the jaw-length locks framed his face. "You're looking very handsome, thanks to my ministrations!" she exclaimed, beaming cheerfully. Her hand traveled down to his shoulder and then ran down his slender arm, left bare by the black sleeveless turtleneck she had 'suggested'. "But you'd better eat up if you want to get big and strong, like me."

"And call me D!"

She ate quickly, and not particularly politely; but her movements were not hasty, and she never spilled even a little bit of anything. There was a certain rhythm to her movements, even if the tempo was a bit high, and she managed it without thinking about it, listening to Pete's words attentatively. "You're talking about that ARM thing you mentioned. It wants to meet me?" She blinked once, and then smiled again. "Oh. The program you developed must be pretty advanced then, for something like that. I didn't realize you meant it was that intelligent. But then again, I'm sure any normal AI wouldn't be a big innovation for The Company." She thought for a moment, tapping her fork against her full -- and somewhat sticky -- lips. "Sounds like a plan, but let's hold off until later. I think we're going to need to stick around for a little bit more, because--"

She paused in midsentence and shushed Pete with a wave of her hand. Silence descended as she flipped off the cartoons with a snap of the remote, though she kept her eyes on the door. She rose, stepped to the door, and opened it. A woman stood there, surprised, her hand raised as though she was just about to knock.

"Hi!" chirped Devin merrily.

"Hello," managed the woman, after a few moments of staring. A nervous smile arose on her features. She was in her early thirties and was quite pretty, with black hair and green eyes, though she seemed quite shaken by something as well -- something more than doors opening before they are knocked upon. "Can I speak to Detective Kitty?"

"One moment, please," replied Devin, and she stepped back, pulled a white dress shirt out of the closet by the door, put it on, buttoned it up over the words on the front of her shirt, and then stepped back in front of the door. "I'm Detective Kitty. Please come in and make yourself at home. Coffee?"

"Yes, please," she said, and glanced behind herself nervously before stepping into the apartment. D took her to the one side room Pete hadn't entered yet, and once he had gotten a mug of coffee for the woman, he went inside to see D behind a metal desk and sitting in a synthetic leather recliner, with the woman in one of the plush little chairs on the other side of the desk. Pete placed the cup in front of the woman and stepped back.

"This is Detective Steele, my associate," Devin said, smiling and gesturing to Pete. The woman looked over her shoulder and gave him a little, almost slightly suspicious, smile. He responded with a little wave, and sat himself in one of the chairs on the side. The woman creeped him out, but what creeped him out more was that this girl was pretending to be a real detective. And that he was going along with it. Weren't people going to find out they didn't have a license? Don't you need a license for this sort of thing? Didn't they have to bribe somebody or something? "How can we help you, ma'am?"

The nervous, rather formally dressed woman placed a photo on the desk. It was of a slightly tanned man with glasses, a goatee, and a grim expression. "My name is Diana Spooner, and this is my husband, Ron. He's been disappearing a lot recently, and coming home very late. He says he's been at the beach, but I'm worried that maybe he's... having an affair. I would like you to... follow him, and report to me what he does."

"I understand," Devin replied gently. "Would your husband have any reason for going to the beach so often?"

"He's the leader of the Warner City Environmental League. They became famous ever since they discovered and prevented toxic waste from leaking from a secret depository at the nuclear power plant nearby. He says he's onto something big, bigger than even that, but... I'm just so worried..."

The woman began to twiddle her fingers. The entire time, she hadn't met Devin's eyes. She definately looked worried.

"How long have you and your husband been married?"

"Oh, a few years now," Diana replied, folding her hands in her lap. "Please, just find him and follow him for a few weeks, and tell me what he does at the beach. That's all I ask." She took a checkbook out of her purse and signed a check, handing it to Devin, whose eyebrow raised in mild surprise. "I know your flyer said your advance fee is two-hundred, but I'd like to start you out with five-hundred. This is extremely important to me. I will, of course, pay for your hourly rate and expenses as well."

"This isn't necessary..."

"Please accept the money. I want you to do your very best."

Devin watched the woman carefully. There it is again, realized Pete. That look in her eye. That cold look. Like from before she fought those guys yesterday. That... calculating gaze. Is Devin suspicious of this woman? Or is she just thinking? Finally, D smiled and took the check. As yesterday, the inner analytical core visible through her eyes vanished completely as soon as she was done. "You're very kind. I won't fail you. Come back here whenever you want, and I'll tell you whatever I've learned -- or you can call. I imagine it wouldn't be safe for me to call you."

"No... thank you." The woman handed Devin a piece of paper. "There's my address and phone number all the same. This is where Ron... should be coming home to."

The woman excused herself and Pete helped her with her coat as Devin opened the door for her. Once she left, D took Pete's arm and took him into the room again, where she collapsed into her recliner. Peter sat in the chair the woman had been sitting in. The woman hadn't touched her coffee.

"Strange," Devin muttered. "What's she so paranoid about?"

"She did seem extremely distracted," Pete offered. "She didn't look you in the eye even once -- except at the door."

"And when I looked her in the eye then, I saw a frightened animal. But she seemed healthy."

"Healthy?"

"I couldn't detect any injuries," she replied flatly. "Nobody's been beating her up."

I couldn't detect any either... but that was because the woman was wearing long sleeves and a high collar! Is she fooling with me?

After thinking for a few moments, Devin hopped to her feet and smiled again. It was like the sun had burst from behind the clouds. "Pete, let's go visit that ARM PHID fellow. Our next customer won't be here for a few hours. We can grab some hamburgers and share a Slushee." Removing her white dress shirt and draping it over the chair, the brunette clasped her hands together and her smile turned wistful. "We can get two straws, and sit by the lake, and sip quietly together, leaning close, cuddling -- how romantic!"

 

[Armphid]

Pete had watched Devin eat with astonishment. She was packing it away like a man twice her size. And hardly like a lady! Although...she seemed to appreciate his cooking, and that was nice. He smiled as he took a long sip from his coffee, the cup hiding it. The girl was a real mystery. And what was he to make of her actions toward him?

Calling him "doll" and "cutie" was one thing. Some women did that, just as a mannerism. He didn't like to think of it that way though...even though it sort of annoyed him...he also sort of liked it. Then there was the bed thing...what did that mean? Did it mean anything? She picked out his clothes, and after he'd emerged from the shower and pulled on a robe, she'd somehow known and burst in to take care of his hair. She claimed he'd been horribly abusing it, and it's look much better the way she combed it. Then her hand at breakfast...he could still feel her light touch on his shoulder and his arm. He'd never met someone who was so casual about touching.

Before he could think of it much more, she began to talk, and though he tried to get a word in, she shushed him. Pete quirked an eyebrow as she got up, and was as stunned as the woman behind the door when Devin answered it.

He listened only partially to what Diana Spooner said. He was watching Devin, noting that cold look in her eyes. How curious. He then found himself wondering why he didn't have a chair as nice as hers. That was an awesome chair. He didn't remember buying it...but he must have. Another thought occured to him then. They didn't have anything that a real detective agency would need. He was no expert, but you needed police training...and some kidn of license, he thought. Wouldn't running an illegal detective agency get the wrong kind of attention? Of course, if they applied for all those permits, the Company would notice. They'd find him. A shiver ran up his spine. There were rumors about what they did to people...and he didn't doubt for a moment that they were true.

As he helped Mrs. Spooner with her coat, he actually began to think about what she told them. She was being very evasive with details...as well as with what caused her to be suspicious. His thoughts were banished from his head a moment, as Devin stepped close and looped her arm through his, guiding him back into the "office."

They discussed the case briefly, before D made another abrupt shift to the energetic girl rather than the serious detective. yet again, she reminded him of the A.R.M. He smiled, and thinking out loud, said, "Modes of operation with automatic transition based on...what?"

Then, really hearing her last few sentances, he blushed and smiled shyly. Cuddling? A Slushee with two straws? "Man...she's really playing with my head." "And my hormones...might as well be honest about it," he thought.

Pete stood as well. "Th-that sounds good to me." "I haven't had a good burger in a while, and never shared a Slushee with a pretty girl before." It sounded goofy even to him, and he could feel himself flushing once more. Romantic? Yeah, it would be...if he coudl figure out what her intentions were. Were they romantic? Or was he just so non-threatening she could use him to play out these little fantaisies?

THey moved to the door, Pete trying to guess which jacket she wanted and holding it out to help her don it. "Would you prefer to get lunch first or go and see A.R.M.H.I.D?" "It would like to see you, but it is very patient."

 

[Jacobo_Curious]

"Awwww! You think I'm pretty!" Devin stopped in the middle of another cat-stretch to giggle, and then chuckle, and then burst into very tomboyish peals of laughter, draping herself around Pete's shoulders as her chest heaved against his back. "Hwahahahahaha! Oh, Petey, you're a riot!" Standing on her tip-toes, she looked over his shoulder and pinched his cheek teasingly, shaking it back and forth, a big grin on her face. "And you're blushing! Ahahaha! Hwaaahahaha!" Finally catching her breath, the girl stepped around him and walked into the hallway to the front door to look in the small mirror hung there. She began to fiddle with her hair, moving it around very slightly in ways imperceptible to even Pete's cunning mind. Her face became serious at his last question, and she pondered for a moment, raising one thin eyebrow. "Let's go get Slushies first, then stop and get big hamburgers, and then sit in the park by the lake. It's the one place, you know, that doesn't have much trash. I know because I cleaned it all up the day before yesterday. I was bored, and I like clean parks."

"Then we'll go see A.R.M..H.I.D. I want to meet him too." Her face softened, and that little gleam went back into her eyes. "He sounds like quite a work of art. And any art should be appreciated. All art is one art; a manifestation of the Way!" She turned to him, eyes now bright again, and pumped her fist, grinning hugely. "Just as creating ARM was a manifestation of your warrior spirit, Petey, darling!"

"Now let's go have you buy me some Slushies!"



<< --- >> INTERLUDE << --- >>

Devin 'Zen Sweetness' Kitty
Gender: Female
Age: Late Teens
Occupation: Zen Master
Hobbies: Kicking people in the head, cartoons, drinking Slushies

STATS
Body 6 --- (Above Average: Athletic and Fast)
Mind 7 --- (Impressive: Cunning and Rational)
Soul 10 --- (World-Class: Supernaturally Perceptive)

SPECIALTY
Aura Sense / One With the Universe
-----o Can sense emotions such as pain or hostility, and feel them from a distance, with her five natural senses not involved, and also gets serious hunches, based on her intimate knowledge of the rules of reality, about what might happen next in her grand story. This allows her to, in a manner of speaking, see actions before they happen; if someone is going to try and kick her in the head, she'll have dodged before he's even made his move. Though it is always on passively, when it is actively triggered, her eyes get cold and hard, filled with purpose and action. The weakness of this special ability is that if any of her opponent's abilities are greater than her Soul attribute (10), it becomes useless; either they're too fast for her to react in time (Body > 10), they're cunning enough to use the ability against her (Mind > 10), or their warrior's spirit is strong enough to conceal their aura (Soul > 10). Because of the high requirements, though, this really doesn't happen often.

Also, she's a total babe. Seriously. She told me so.

---

Peter 'Piloter of the Living Machine' Steele
Gender: Male
Age: Early twenties
Occupation: Super Genius
Hobbies: Taking care of A.R.M., using his brain to create, hanging out with D (despite himself)

STATS
Body 4 --- (Below Average: A Little Skinny)
Mind 11 --- (World-Class: Super Genius)
Soul 6 --- (Above Average: Sensitive, but Shy)

SPECIALTY
Crazy Science Crap
-----o Psssh. What'd'you want me to say? He made a freaking living robot suit. What do you need to know to do that? More than anyone else knows. This guy got way too many extra credits in college, I'll tell you that. When the professor was sick, he taught. And then when the professor was better, he still taught, because the students liked him better. Anyway, he automatically succeeds on basic knowledge checks, and will totally beat you at chess if you even try.

He's very cute if his hair's done right. But I seriously don't know about those vinyl pants.

<< --- >> INTERLUDE END << --- >>



"'A warrior must make use of all his weapons in battle'!"

Devin was dragging Peter down the street, arm in arm with him, strutting along with her Slushie in the other hand. It had two straws in it, but so far, she hadn't shared any, and she hadn't given Pete any opportunity to ask. Well, maybe once they got to the burger stand...

"See, everything Miyamoto Musashi said was a metaphor. All his special techniques he talks about: Injure the Corners, The Flowing Water Cut, Stifling Shadows... they're all ways of dealing with people. And ways of going about life. And ways of fighting. Cuz, you see, it's all one way. People follow certain rules. That's how you become an invincible warrior -- by taking advantage of those rules. But what's most important is becoming a real human being -- knowing yourself, truly, and knowing how the rules apply to you." She raised a finger into the air and stuck the straw in her mouth, speaking in muffled tones. "After mall, did mot Sun-Tzmu say: 'Know yoursmelf and know your enemy, and you havme already achievmed vicmtory?'"

Pursing her full lips around the straw, D stuck her tongue out and took a long suck from the icy beverage. "Ooowahh! Isn't this wonderful?" she exclaimed, her eyes bright again. "Am I one with the universe or is the universe one with me!?"

Finally, they indeed achieved victory over the journey to the hamburger stand, and in mere minutes, Devin was cuddled up to Pete, just like she promised. Only she was tearing feriociously into her burger, and making tigress chomping noises. "Ahnum num num!" she growled, licking her lips frequently. "How awesome! Petey, thanks for taking me out. You're seriously a doll." She handed him the Slushee -- only the dregs left, sadly, but still something. As he took the final sip, she planted a little kiss on his cheek, leaving a wet, slightly greasy mark. When he looked at her, she just smiled slightly. Maybe a little coyly, though.

"Are you ready to go to the warehouse now? I have a feeling we still have time before our next important appointment."

 

[Armphid]

Pete ate his burger slowly, trying to distance himself from the fact that a very cute girl, looking fresh out of high school, was leaning against him. True, she was also laying into a hamburger the size of her head with the ferocity of a starved bear, and true she was barely paying any attention to him at the moment. For the young scientist though, it was remarkable contact from a female. Pleasant thought it was, it was also somewhat alarming....for he had no idea how he should act. Should he put an arm about her? Just eat in silence?

Silence wasn't good. She'd talked a great deal, maybe it would be best if he talked some. "One with the universe...what an interesting idea." He glanced down at her, unsure if she was hearing him at all. It's a danger of science and philosophy alike to think that everything follows obervable rules." "Once you learn those rules, you're...well, invincible to use your word." "I always thought that...and until you look small enough, it's true." Talking was good. It got his mind off of the physical situation.

"Below the sub-atomic scale, in what you'd know as quantum mechanics...the rules break down." "There isn't such a thing as cause and effect, and all the knowledge and observation don't seem to matter." He smiled faintly, "There are things there...singularity vortices and the like, that just happen." 'There's no cause, no pattern to the occurence, they just occur." "The rules no longer apply, and we need new rules...ones we, well, most of us, haven't figured out yet." He then shrugged, "I guess what I mean is that, I understand what you mean about the rules of people...I think...but just when you think you know all the rules, you come across something that blows it all away."

He blushed a little when she thanked him for taking her out, a small smile on his face. "You're welcome, D." "Anytime." There is was again. Her calling him "doll" and "darling." Man, he just couldn't figure her out. He took the few remaining slurps, idly wondring just how anyone could enjoy this beverage with such zest. Maybe it was better cold.

Then she kissed him. The world seemed to stop for a split-second as her lips planted themselves lightly on his cheek, grease rubbing off from the contact, the warm sensation flooding through his face. Pete looked at her stunned, his eyes wide. She wore a peculiar little smile that somehow sent a both happy and nervous shiver up his spine. "W-warehouse?" He blinked, "Oh!" "Ah, yes." He stood a bit abruptly, trying not to blush brighter. "Yes, the warehouse...right." "Warehouse." "It's this way."

*****************

The kiss had so mystified him that they were to the warehouse before he knew it, Pete pausing at the door to take a deep breath. Then he smiled at D, a bit nervous. After all, he was about to show off his greatest creation. "It's in here." He opened the lock to the door, holding it open for her. "Please wait a moment so I can get the lights on...it doesn't like it if you approach it in the dark."

The warehouse was eerily quiet, and as Pete entered, he could feel a faint curiosity, tinged with fear. "It's all right," he called. "I'm back!" Then came relief and a warm feeling of welcome. He looked at Devin and grinned, "I hope you're not disapointed...though I don't think you will be." "It's a marvel, there's never been anything like it before." "I'd try and talk it up but for me...I just can't."

The two walked out onto the now lit main floor. Towering over them, the black and blue armored bio-machine stood. The armor plating made it look fully mechanical, both the protective shell and the obvious weapons gleaming dully in the light. Pete felt his heart fill with pride and joy as he approached it. "Isn't it beautiful?" His voice was just above a whisper, almost more to himself that to D.

He took her hand, and walked up the scaffolding to where the cockpit was, housed in the mecha's chest. For once, he felt no shyness in touching her, only a wish for her to see his creation, to know it. "The Automatic Reflex Mechanoid: Prototype High Impact Design, or A.R.M.H.I.D." "A revolution in bio-tech, robotics, engineering, and a dozen other fields."

As he had in the morning, Pete reached out a hand and pressed his palm against the great living machine's chest. He could always feel it's mind better when he touched it, and this gesture had become a ritual...and a display of affection. "Yes, this is her." "Miss Devin Kitty, this is A.R.M.H.I.D." He smiled, "It's glad to meet you." It did not speak to him, it could not form words or thoughts, but he just knew what it wanted to say. "Yes, I think she is too." He was silent a moment, "That doesn't matter, she's very good, you should have seen the way she fought...she reminded me of you."

Pete gave Devin a wry smile, "It worries about me, because I'm so small and I don't have any armor or radar." "It wasn't sure that you could...ah...uh, protect me, since you're smaller than I am." "I hope you're not offended, D, it likes you."