Sang Sacré
The fictional Buffista City. With a variety of neighborhoods, climates, and an Evil Genius or two, Sang Sacre is where we'd all live if it were real. Jump in -- find a neighborhood, start a parade, become a superhero. It's what you make it.
History. Map.
The dragonrabbit makes bambi eyes at me and licks my chin. I smell sulphur and lettuce on her breath. Am-Chau has found the cup and is hauling herself out of the hole.
"Give me a little space, um, Jossica, I need to help Am-Chau."
I peer over the edge. Jossica decides to "help" by planting her feet on my ass to keep me from falling in. How did this happen, anyway? Am-Chau is in view and nearly in reach. I grab the twine with one hand and reach down with another. Am-Chau grasps my hand and in a minute we are both sprawled on the floor. Jossica starts running in tiny circles punctuated by frequent leaps straight up. I had a dog that used to do that. Heh.
"Thanks, Penny," I say, once I've got my breath back. "It's lucky you came by. Did Edward find you?"
I decide to strategically ignore Jossica for the time being. What else can one do when mystcial beasts behave like pets?
One can drink more coffee, for starters.
Penny hasn't answered my question about Edward, but I keep talking anyway. "More importantly, where's the coffee?"
Am-Chau seems a bit overwrought, and one can hardly blame her. I leave her on the couch while I retrive the lattes. Am-Chau pours hers into the Edward Gorey mug which still has a bit of string on the handle.
Taking the tactful route, I refrain from asking about the big hole in the floor. Instead, I hold up the flyer from the new Evil Emporium.
Am-Chau utters a phrase in a foreign tongue. I don't know what it means, but it causes Jossica to lower her ears.
I knew learning Ancient Sygaroin was a good idea. It's great for swearing in, as it consists entirely of four-letter words-- though I'm a little distrubed to note that Jossica seems to understand it.
When I've recovered from the shock, I sip coffee and then explain to Penny, "This is trouble. I have a very bad feeling about this. Very bad indeed."
From the look on her face, she didn't need the explanation.
"Anything named 'Aeshma's' is bound to be a bit apocalypsy," I sigh. "I had hoped to spend the summer gardening and now this comes up. Frellin' supervillains. By the way, did you get the tulips I sent?"
"Pretty
and
tasty!"
"Jesus Dog! She talks?"
Am-Chau nods wearily.
It's my considered opinion that a person can never do too much weary nodding. Especially when faced with *another* possible apocalypse.
"She talks," I tell Penny. "Oh, how she talks. I think she's a sign, or something. Like the Four Horsemen, only just one, and sort of less horsey."
Penny nods-- she knows the sort of thing.
"I'm thinking that some research is in order," I continue. "And for once, research and shopping may be the same trip."
"You're right, of course," I sigh dramatically. For me, sighing dramatically is what nodding wearily is to Am-Chau. "I suppose a little light recon is in order at first, which means leaving weapons behind. Of course, you and I both have weapons which can't be seen."
"Have you worked out the kinks in that cursing thing?"
"Um. Pretty much. Magic tip-top with you?" I can't help glancing at the big hole in the floor.
"Naturally"
"Okay, we're set. We should probably leave the pets - mystical beings - behind."
I nod brightly at the idea of leaving Jossica behind-- though I suspect it comes out wearier than I intended. I really must look into enrolling for that Nodding Course ("Stage 2: Weary Isn't The Only Way") at the local Life-Long-Learning Center (Unlife Studies Incorperated).
"Okay, let's go." I pick up my purse-- only one cabbage leaf left; I need to visit a field sometime soon and get some more money-- lock Dagfari's doors, making sure that Jossica is on the inside (she can't do *that* much harm), and we're set.
Casually, we stroll along the street, taking time to smile at the various neighbours who are out, working on their gardens.
As we make our way downtown I note that several people are using Instagolem for yard work. How nice to make a contribution to the community. Also,
ka-ching!
I note that at least a few of my King Tulips have re-rooted themselves, which is a relief. There were rumours of predatory behavior, but I'm sure they were wildly exaggerated.
Am-Chau insisted on stopping for coffee again, so I'm feeling fairly stoked. Unfortunately, this does not help my sense of direction.
"Where is this damned place?" I ask, spinning slowly.
I hear another unintelligible curse. Am-Chau is doing that nodding wearily thing again. "Check it out. She points towards the end of the block. "Does anything strike you are particularly heinous?"
"Oh. My. God!"
"Uh-huh."
"The. . . the
colours!"
"Look at the sign."
"This is pure. . . "
"Evil?"
Following another cup of coffee and a stroll, I was feeling slightly more able to face the world. Until I saw the sign, anyway. There's bad, and then there's worse, and then there's... *that*.
I close my eyes-- it doesn't invite one to look for long-- and when I open them I'm careful not to look down the block again. The other way along the street, where we've just been, there are several Instagolem working, or there were. I notice that one of them has stopped to talk to some-- something? It's short, must be, down on the pavement, and at this distance I can't quite tell... no, I can see some brown fur... skirt... Edward!
"Excuse me," I mutter at Penny, hoping she doesn't mistake it for another curse, and take off running. Edward on the loose wasn't a good idea; and if Penny asks questions, I can always claim that we'll need some sort of back-up when we go into... that place. You know. The Shop We Dare Not Name.