The Library: Episode 14
The Library: Episode 15
The (late... very late) Halloween Special
“Girls, you have been neglecting your calendar duties.” The Librarian’s imperious voice echoed through the cramped space, and no, you don’t want to know how. Pyla and Reea looked at each other.
“We’re calendar girls? I want to be Dismember!”
“Fine, I’m-” The Librarian cut them off with a sigh of annoyance, glanced at her watch with its handy-dandy calendar function, and ripped 5 months worth of accumulated comics from The Far Side off the calendar. For a moment, she lost her Librarianian composure when she saw the date.
Pyla and Reea had never seen this happen before.
“What? What happened?”
The Librarian found her voice. “It’s... it’s Halloween.” The twins read the comic under her finger and giggled inanely.
“The Mummy said ‘wrap it up!’” Then both looked up at her in perfect, twin confusion.
“What’s Halloween?” The Librarian did what any self-respecting person would do faced with such a question. She blinked.
Later that day
“Oooh... I get it. People dress up as candy to go get costumes!” The Librarian groaned.
“Whaaat? I got it right!” Pyla was looking less perky than usual, and actually questioned her own answers. “Didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t. People dress up in costumes to go get candy, and if they don’t get candy... Reea, what are you doing?” Reea had been playing dress up with a wedding dress, a tutu, and her Jabba’s slave girl costume. She looked up at her name.
“You said we had to get costumes, oh your Librarianess. I’m trying on costumes.”
“Oh, well then, carry on... but will you tell us what happens if they don’t get candy?” Reea’s evil grin bordered on an even more evil leer as she rubbed her hands together in truly malicious glee. “TOILET PAPER! RAW EGGS! SILLY STRING! FLAMING BAGS OF POOOOO!” There was a collective blink as everyone within hearing range realized that Reea was most likely entirely out of her mind and didn’t care.
“Ah... yes... Very good, Reea... I do hope you get a lot of candy.” The Librarian, for once, attempted an innocent, guileless smile. It looked strange due to lack of practice. The twins winced.
“Class dismissed, I shall be here when you get back. Now go get costumes and go trick-or-treating. I want half your candy when you return.”
The twins bowed low before scrambling out, Reea’s hair thwapping the gong on the way out, the sound of it leaving the Librarian’s head ringing and her wondering if Reea’s hair had achieved sentience from all the multi-vitamin shampoos and conditioners she used.
3.14 hours later
The pre-Halloween organizational meeting was in full swing long before Pyla arrived on the scene. Wearing black. Ethan applauded. Lestat blinked. Louis was impressed but tried hard not to show it. Hawkeye absently wondered (aloud) where the tutu they’d all been expecting had gotten to. Reea thwapped him into silence, and Gabrielle treated his wounded head. Pyla looked entirely too pleased with herself, her hair pulled back in a braid, dyed brown, not blue, not green, not aquamarine, BROWN. A normal, human sort of color. She was wearing a shirt that looked a lot like a short sleeved Catholic priest’s, white collar and all. Reea was the first to dare ask the question they were all wondering.
“Umm... Pyla... who are you supposed to be? And where did you get that outfit?” Pyla grinned ludicrously and hauled a similarly dressed young man, arms crossed in clear unamusement, with an incredibly long braid which served as an excellent handle for hauling, into view and pulled him, again by the braid, to his feet and then off them. Duo obligingly yelped.
“I AM THE GOD OF DEATH!! THIS IS NOT FUNNY!” Pyla giggled. She thought it was plenty funny.
“Ooookay... On to business.” Reea was pointedly ignoring Mr. God of Death’s outburst. “Louis, you and Lestat will be one team. Pyla, you’ll be with Ethan, and please keep him on his leash, we worked very hard to get him and don’t need him running away. Armand, you’re with me.
Hawkeye and Gabrielle, you’ll be taking Jeffrey, and you really need to have a leash each. Giles and Spike, you’ll be a team as well.”
Everyone looked at their partners. Louis and Lestat, in their pristine nun costumes, weren’t entirely put out by the decision. After all, they had known each other for three hundred years. Ethan, dressed in pin stripe suit and fangs ( he was going as a lawyer, and we all know they’re blood suckers ), grumbled as Pyla in her Duo costume attached a leash to the back of his tie and grinned. Armand winced. The fact that he was dressed as Robin and she was going as Batman was entirely too convenient for his tastes.
Hawkeye grinned at Gabrielle, who rolled her eyes at his Super-man costume. She, on the other hand, had dressed up as the Statue of Liberty, and her arm was beginning to cramp. With the other, she snapped two leashes onto Jeffrey and silently prayed to Zeus that he would behave.
Jeffrey, dressed as a Roman gladiator, promptly picked her up and put her in a wagon. He’d always wondered what it would be like to pull a chariot. Giles, dressed in the front half of a horse suit, looked at Spike, wearing the back half, and prayed that Spike didn’t have any interest in rump roast.
On the path to Greatness (or maybe just lots of candy... and tooth decay)
Pyla was driving the Mackedelic, or perhaps the Mackedelic was driving them all. Insane. They were already crazy, but insanity is a definite step beyond. On the edge of the view screen (she was driving through space, she needed a view screen) appeared a five mile long blue thing. The radio, abruptly interrupting her favorite Queen song, started spouting something about a “last, best hope for peace” and Pyla hit it with a fly swatter. The song resumed. “...Oh dear... I’m going slightly maaad...”
“Pyla, what in Sith’s name is going on up here?” Reea had popped her head through the little hole in the back of the tractor part of the tractor trailer. Her Batman mask was pushed up on her forehead for the moment, long indigo hair spilling around the edges of the cowl.
“Oh, nothing, some guy came on the radio talking about the big blue thing on the scanner and I decided it wasn’t that important and hit the radio with a fly swatter for interrupting my song.”
Reea opened her mouth to say something, snapped it shut again, and then with lips still tightly closed, said, “Oh.” Then the song changed. And Pyla swatted it again for changing the song. And the Mackedelic, fed up with Pyla’s abuse, broke down. With a collective groan, they all piled out of the Mackedelic, all but Gabrielle and Hawkeye, who more thudded than piled, as Jeffrey was still intent on pulling his chariot. Spike and Giles clomped, and Giles continued his silent prayers that Spike didn’t develop a taste for his posterior.
In the tradition of fictional Halloween partiers on the way to a party with a broken means of transportation, they headed for the nearest thing that looked inhabited. The big blue, cigar shaped thing hanging above the funky looking planet that they got the feeling they shouldn’t touch. Instead of going against this instinct like most fictional characters would, The Characters headed for the much safer looking blue thing.
Fifteen minutes (and several “wow... cool echo...” comments) later...
On board Babylon 5, Ivanova, dressed in a squirrel costume, a gray, flying squirrel with a blue flight hat costume, was muttering while studying the incoming blob of... people? Were they walking through space? Without space suits? Well, that one there on the left looked like he might be wearing one... No, that was just a bit of glare off his hair. Marcus strolled up behind her, dressed as a moose, and, in a voice he spent hours practicing based on Garibaldi’s old Rocky and Bullwinkle tapes, said “Hiya Rocky.”
Ivanova whirled, one finger... or something... raised, pointing at him accusingly. Marcus, with his usual expertise, managed not to laugh, as much because it would spoil the joke as because he knew how lethal that finger could be. And the air supply in the moose suit wasn’t quite enough to afford bursts of laughter.
“That’s ‘Commander’ Rocky to you!” She continued to herself, again muttering, “And this is the last time I get a costume from Garibaldi...” As if summoned by the speaking of his name, Garibaldi walked past in a Daffy Duck costume. Ivanova did a double take, and resolved not to ask.
By this time, the trick-or-treaters had reached an airlock left open for just such an occasion and had found their way in.
Kosh met them at the door. “TRICK OR TREAT!!!!!!!!” they chorused in deafening... chorus.
Pyla continued sing songing happily, “smell my feet, give me something good to eat, if you don’t, I don’t care...” Then she realized that Kosh probably didn’t have any underwear to run off with. She lapsed into pouting in a very un-Duo-like way. Duo floated behind her, arms crossed in annoyance. Giles, ever the one to inquire, asked, “Who are you?”
“I am... Kosh.”
“Where are we?”
“You are here.”
“Where are you?”
“I have always been here.”
“Are you sane?”
“Everyone believes me to be so.”
“That’s not a good answer, Koshy boy,” Pyla had stopped sulking.
“Good is... so subjective...”
“Who... are... you?” Reea popped her cowled head over Pyla’s shoulder, imitating the caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.
“I am... Kosh.”
“Kosher?”
“Kosher? What is... Kosher?”
“You are! Fit to eat!”
Ivanova and Marcus showed up just as Pyla slapped a pair of bunny ears over the unsuspecting Ambassador’s head... helmet... thing. “Oo! Rocky and Bullwinkle!” Ivanova braced herself for another stimulating round of diplomacy. At least this time it wasn’t the Draasi. She put on her best smile and extended one hand... paw... thing. “I am Commander Ivanova and I would like to formally welcome you to Babylon 5.”
“No you’re not, you’re Rocky, and we’re here to trick-or-treat on behalf of the Outda system Asylum... I mean... Library. The Pyroloon... I mean... Librarian... sent us.”
“Ah, so you’re ambassadors?” Ivanova thought, privately, Great, just what we need, more ambassadors.
“No... trick or treaters.”
Back at the Mackadelic’s stopping point
Memphis Raines’ car had broken down... again. A few hundred space miles back. A space mile being roughly equivalent to one foot on Earth. He should have known better than to take a car that looked like his as a present from his younger brother. And then... his gaze fell on the Mackadelic.
It was beautiful. Under the horrorific paint job that was giving him quite a headache, the streamlined contours of the SBX-79 series truck with fully automatic AI driving capabilities were a wonder to behold. “Oh Eleanor... You’re not Eleanor... But you can be Ethel.” The truck cooed at him, nobody’d ever talked to it that way before.
The door popped open, the engine revved, and Memphis needed no more invitation. They zoomed off in whatever direction Memphis pointed the truck in... namely to the nearest body shop with fully interactive paint station. Gray level 17 on... Babylon 5.
Ivanova was at a loss. She had never seen ambassadors behave like this. She was beginning to recall her dealings with the Draasi with nostalgia. She was going to have to speak to the Captain about her diplomatic duties. No promotion was worth this. She peeled her eyes open, wondering if she really wanted to know what the insane "Trick-or-Treaters" were up to now. She winced. The one dressed as a gladiator had begun to moo, and the Statue of Liberty, standing in the wagon behind the gladiator, was beating away alien admirers who had mistaken the sound for a mating call. At least Superman seemed to have found something to do... wait, him, loose on the station? This wasn't good.
Hawkeye had found the bar. He had missed alcohol so much, the Librarian never let him keep any around. It wasn't that he was an alcoholic, merely that it was difficult to truly celebrate an occasion, any occasion, without some of the happy juice. The death of a hamster, the birth of a new Beanie Baby, weddings, funerals, baby showers, the Super Bowl, all were occasions that could not be properly observed without giving thanks to Dionysus. And so, with that happy thought, and several others that simply don't deserve reutterance, he sat at the bar and ordered the biggest scotch he'd ever seen.
At the end of a dead end road three blocks away from a major interstate, in a quiet neighborhood from somewhere out of the 29th century, stood what looked like an abandoned Victorian mansion. Abandoned but for the three cars and one horse drawn carriage in the driveway. Victorian but for the satellite dishes sprouting proudly from the peaks of the roof. The neighborhood's peace was shattered for the fifteenth time that day by the sound of a blood (or at least milk) curdling screech.
"ARI'NA!" Tousai had found her sister's "sword" chewing on her headboard again. Guppy was really getting entirely too mobile to still be considered a fish, perhaps an amphibian or reptile. The swordfish continued noshing, happily unaware of the long scratches left by its nose in the hard wood of Tousai's bed. "COME GET YOUR FISH!" Ari'na, the owner of said fish, appeared in a swirl of glitter in the doorway to Tousai's bedroom.
"Tousai, I don't know how many times I've told you, if you want to play with Guppy, just ask. You really must stop stealing my weaponry." There was a sparkle of laughter in the brunette woman's eyes, belying her scolding tone. Tousai glowered silently before returning to the daunting task of prying the gleeful creature away from the delicate gingerbread carving on her headboard. Ari'na lounged in the doorwary, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over her chest, smirking at her sister's difficulties. "Have you forgotten what today is, Tousai, dearest?"
"Yes *grunt* dear *yank* sister *tug* I'm *pull grunt snarl* afraid I have!" With one final, wrenching grab at the slippery fish, and a premature "Ah ha!" Tousai sent herself toppling across the room to land in an unglamorous heap at the base of one of her bookshelves, denting the gingerbread carving that so perfectly matched what used to be on her headboard. The fish, finally free of Tousai's shrieks, yanks, tugs, and other attempts at dislodging it from its favorite chew toy, continued munching happily on the hard oak. Ari'na laughed indulgingly and gently pulled the now wriggling fish away from the bedframe, and began to pet it's head. Guppy, despite being ill-equipped for the action and not being a cat besides, purred. Tousai glared, rubbing a hand over the back of her fuzzy-due-to-recent-shaving head.
"How in seven Sith Hells do you do that?!?"
"It's all in the wrist," Ari'na replied, before cooing at her fish. "Isn't it snookums? Yes it is, oh yes it is..." Tousai rolled her eyes.
"What is it that I forgot this time, sister?" She was pulling herself free of the pile of fallen books that had resulted from her sudden meeting with the bookshelf.
"Cosplay."
"Cos-wha?"
"Cosplay. There's an anime convention in one of the multiverses we oversee, and I signed us up for Cosplay."
"And what am I going to have to do for this... Cosplay?"
"Dress up in a costume like an anime character and prance around like a fool in an amusing skit on stage for half the Quadrant."
"And why am I going to do this?"
"Because I've found a character you'll like. And besides, if you don't, I'll let Guppy chew his way through your entire bedroom before I come and take him home." Tousai shuddered. It had taken her three years just to find her bedroom furniture, and the bed, bookshelves, bureau, and badminton set were the only wooden objects she owned that hadn't been used as a chopping block for her numerous swords. She was in no hurry to let Ari'na's one weapon destroy what she'd deprived all of hers of destroying.
Cautiously, she dared inquire, "what character?"
The grin on Ari'na's face should have been sufficient warning for her sister. "Utena."
Back on Babylon 5
"You WHAT?" Ivanova was not one given to shrieking, but it seemed the thing to do at the time.
"I... well, I booked an anime convention for today."
"What in the name of... What made you do it? Today? Of all days? Halloween? We've got galactic trick-or-treaters of species even I can't recognize milling around demanding candy, and you decided today was a good day to give the Otaku a free for all?"
"It seemed a good idea at the time... Halloween costumes, Anime Con costumes... It made sense to me."
The lowly booking agent shrugged. "There's really nothing I can do now."
"You. Want me. To play Utena. You. Want me-"
"Yes, sister dear, I. Want you. To play Utena." Ari'na mimicked Tousai's shocked voice and mannerisms perfectly, with the possible exception of a very large portion of sarcasm. Tousai blinked, a slow smile creeping across her face.
"If you weren't my sister, I'd marry you."
"No you wouldn't. I wouldn't let you."
Bab 5 Again
Pyla was in hog heaven. First there had been the brown guy with funny splotches and red eyes, Rocky-Ivanova had called him the G Car, or something like that. He'd been fun to play with, until he started spluttering. Then there'd been the guy who looked like a bad Napoleon impersonator, Rocky had called him Lando, or maybe it was Vir? No, Vir didn't have half as cool a wig. You'd think they'd know not to use spirit gum to keep their wigs on, it wouldn't hurt as much to take them off. The squirrel had been in a hurry to get them away from there, Pyla looking at Reea and mouthing "what'd I do?" and Reea shaking her head. She didn't know either. The twins had always figured people would want help getting wigs like that off. They must weigh a ton. Then came the lady with her tiara on backwards, except it was made of bone instead of diamonds and the twins hadn't had a chance to try it on. It was really quite rude, in their humble opinions, to wear a tiara if you weren't prepared to let other people wear it, but that guy with her, his name sounded like Hawkeye's favorite cooking ingredient, said that they couldn't play with Delen's head. It was really no fair.
"But sister, who are you going as?" Tousai was stalling. She knew it and Ari'na knew it, but she'd be dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with walnuts before she'd put on those obscenely small red bike shorts and a pink wig without stalling. At least she got to use her favorite sword, even if she didn't have an Anthy to pull it out of... or just stick it in. It was always fun to see how people reacted to having swords stuck in uncomfortable places, and the center of a woman's chest seemed pretty uncomfortable to her.
Ari'na opened her mouth to respond, then frowned. "Who am I going to be?" she asked herself, "I'd completely forgotten to come up with anything for myself. Last year I was Sailor Moon, but I can't do that again, the odango kept falling in my eyes..."
"Not to mention your spaghetti. Are you saying that you spent so much time coming up with ways to torment me that you didn't come up with anything for yourself?"
"I wasn't speaking to you, sister, but yes, that is what I'm saying. I don't suppose you have any constructive ideas?" Tousai grinned as she put on the jacket and settled the epaulets into place before carefully beginning to adjust the frill around the bottom.
Ivanova groaned in defeat when it was announced that Cosplay would begin in fifteen minutes. Her expression of capitulation was drowned out by the Tigla twins shrieking their joy. "COSPLAY!!" This outburst was immediately followed by Pyla's mad dash for the nearest bathroom, where she remained for exactly ten seconds, this absence punctuated by two clicks and a flash of blue hair.
When she reemerged from those dangerous depths, her hair, once dyed brown, was now a glorious reddish color, and her clothes, previously black and at least attempting to be modern, now more closely resembled a traditional Kendo uniform, except it was what and lavender. Behind her, glowering in a matching outfit and with the same hairstyle, was a man with an 'X'-shaped scar on his cheek. Pyla whirled around, pressed the palm of her hand to the side of his face, and then to the side of hers, and voila, his scar was on her cheek. Kenshin blinked.
Vir, standing near Delen, turned and whispered to her, "How do you think she did that?" Delen shrugged, at something of a loss, and whispered back, "There are some things we may never know, Vir. And then there are some things we will never wish to know. I believe this is one of the latter." Vir heartily agreed.
Reea, never one to be easily outdone, even by her never out-do-able sister, turned into the Tazmanian Devil, spinning around so quickly that a few loose items of clothing from those in the surrounding crowd, including Jeffrey's breast plate (a horny alien had pried it loose in an attempt at stifling the mooing with a portion of its own anatomy, a portion no body had ever wanted to see), flew into the swirling vortex.
When it cleared, Reea, now appearing in a perfect Princess Shina costume, was staring at a glowing green square. "Oooo... pretty..." Pyla whacked her over the head with her reverse bladed sword (stolen from the very grumpy looking Kenshin behind her). "Reea, we're going to be late for Cosplay if you don't stop staring at the vortex!"
Ari'na was not used to having the tables turned on her, especially not by her younger sister. Nevertheless, here she was, in her room, one of Tousai's weapons systematically destroying pieces of her furniture, albeit not quite so deliberately as Guppy had been. Tousai's sword, improperly hung at her hip, whipped back and forth, splintering wood, with each turn of its owner's body. Tousai, happily oblivious to this cheerful fact, was applying heavy, but entirely androgynous, make-up to her sister's face.
"Oh, Ari'na, you'll make an absolutely wonderful Hotohori!" Tousai fairly gushed. Ari'na growled.
The CosPlay announcement sounded over the station's intercom again, reminding the twins that they needed to figure out how to get to the Conference Room in the next fifteen minutes, reminding Pyla that such a task would be easier with her Mackadelic and that perhaps she should apologize to it, and eliciting a squeal of delight from the thoroughly Shina'd out Reea.
Kenshin and Duo had huddled together, plotting something, while Jeffrey fought with the duct tape Gabrielle had added to his costume to stop the mooing, and to hopefully keep the alien suitors at bay for a bit.
From somewhere on Earth, a loud shriek was heard, as Tousai unceremoniously threw her sister over her shoulder and carried her out to the Cinderella carriage in their driveway, whipped up the horses, and warp speed streaked away...
A moment later, a white carriage that looked peculiarly like an over-sized pumpkin appeared with eight horses, all wearing mouse ears a la Mickey, trotting down the hallway of Babylon 5.
For no reason whatsoever, the assembled Otaku began skipping along behind the carriage as if it were driven by the Pied Piper of Babylon 5. Pyla and Reea, caught up in the flow, flew above the mass of fanatics, greatful to finally have a way to find the Conference room. Kenshin and Duo struggled along below them, trying to avoid the grasping hands of fan-girls and the thudding feet of fan-boys.
The crowd was stopped at the door by a short, white haired creature with a clipboard. "Are you going to be performing?" the creature inquired.
"No, we're in costume because we like being looked at strangely by normal people," Hotohori aka Ari'na replied, still feeling a bit snotty because her sister had managed to out do her. "Don't mind her," said sister cut in, "She's just testy. Yes, we're going to perform."
"What act will you be doing?" White Hair sounded bored.
"Duel of the Fates, Anime style."
The response didn't even get a blink, just a scribble on the clip board, a pair of bright orange wrist bands, and a "You may proceed."
The horses trotted past, and White Hair proceeded to interrogate the rest of the line. White Hair, apparently, felt it necessary to present the acts in alphabetical order. This would not have been a problem, if there hadn't been so many Akios. And Amis. And Akiras. And other "A" named animes. Eventually, Hotohori killed everyone ahead of her in line, and the Duel of the Fates proceeded in true Niklah sister fashion.
Eventually, the fight was broken off when the referees realized that Tousai was fighting for her life and that her sword wasn't going to save her. For realism, they were awarded third place honors.
Next were Kenshin and Duo, mangling the Dead Parrot skit. They were awarded second for their costumes. White Hair deemed them "kitschy, but accurate, in that overly sort of way."
And then it was time for Kenshin and Shina. For reasons best left unmentioned, they were awarded first place honors, severely peeving the real Kenshin. He had never lost before, let alone to an imitation of himself. Perhaps he would have won if he hadn't lost his scar...
Meanwhile, in Gray level 17, Memphis Raines had discovered the special anti-paint coating Pyla had added to the Mackadelic to preserve it's colors... He set about attempting to scrape it off with a single edge razor. The Mackadelic purred. It hadn't gotten this good of a back scratch in years.
"Don't worry, Ethel, I'll have this off you in just a *grunt* minute!"
SPANG! Pyla's head whipped around, trying to find the source of the sound. SHING! Where was it coming from? UNGA UNGA UNGA... She knew that noise. That was the sound of the Mackadelic purring...
Memphis was backed against the wall, the truck towering over him, demanding that he continue the back scratch, but still making that horrible noise. It was like the sound of Eleanor flying off the end of a pier... being smashed by a wrecking ball... losing her transmission! It was the sound he'd heard in his nightmares.
By the time Pyla reached the paint shop on Grey level 17, Memphis was nowhere to be seen. There was only the sadly wailing Mackadelic, curled up as best it could be, in the middle of the room, big tears of oil oozing down it's hubcaps. After apologizing as humbly as Pyla could, and petting the truck until it stopped crying, she climbed in and started steering around the station, in search of Cast members. They all had to ride up front or on the roof, as the entire trailer of the truck was filled with the candy collected either from the doors of all the poor people they'd caught unawares, the bags of other trick-or-treaters, or bought at the Anime Con for exhorbitant fees.
The Librarian would be pleased.