Ai Senshi: A Magical Girl Joint

Every time I sat down to write this, some fresh new bullshit came up. Until now.


There were people who needed saving.

That's all that matters in a situation like this. Not intel, not stealth, not cunning, not the sweet sting in your palms where your hand meets grip tape and your bat meets someone's face.

There are people in danger and you're the only one that can help.

You twirl your trusty nailbat around you and leap into the air, towards the shrine. "Bancho Lily, Full Bloom!"

Your costume snaps to you in mid-flight, no need for the full transformation sequence when you're on the clock.

You hear the sounds of a smartphone's camera shutter going off behind you, the sharp gasp of someone seeing their dreams become tangible.

"Chiaki," you say, looking back to your bespectacled kinda-buddy gawking at you. "If shit goes up in smoke, call the fire department. I don't wanna cause a fuckin' forest fire."

She salutes. "On it. Also, Bancho Lily? Isn't that a bit on the nose?"

You land on the branch of a mighty Redwood and shrug. "I'm a sukeban, and I'm into yuri. Bancho Lily just works."

"Can't argue with that," Chiaki says.

"Damn straight."

You leap from tree to tree in powerful, graceful strides. Nimbleness has been your game ever since your mom gave you the old Soviet ballet training regiment. Sure, it was hell sometimes, but it gave you catlike balance and a great ass. It also helped you kick a judge's teeth in when you learned he was getting a little too hands on with your middle school competitors.

Yeah, you're barred from the ballet circuit now, but justice prevailed.

And that's what really matters.

Trip down memory lane over, you make it to the top of the mountain and the shrine proper. The place is well on its way to getting rockstar bender trashed. There are small fires that threaten to become much bigger fires if not dealt with.

But that's not what catches your eye.

There's a kaiju-sized patchwork bear, like something out of Kanye West's fever dreams, romping and stomping on the sacred ground. Helpless people with tchotchke crap scream to God as it looks down on them.

One of those helpless people is Kyoko from your first gig, and she's dead in the bear's crosshairs.

With a coat-cape flourish that would make Batman blush, you swoop down and snatch up your little soldier, moments before a patchwork paw would pancake her.

Kyoko's auburn eyes sparkle with the intensity of a rapper's ice. "Bancho Lily!"

You give her your winningest grin. "The one and only. Thugboy here?"

Kyoko points to an impact crater on a side shrine. "Big Brother tried to fight the monster and ended up there."

The patchwork bear tries to disrupt your talking time with a meteoric right hand; you leap out of the way again, Kyoko held tight in a princess carry.

It's slow, slower than the pyrefox, but its missed strike registers on the Ricter Scale. Bits of debris ping off your skin, a prickly reminder of being slow on bringing up your diamond skin. Your gangfight-honed instincts tell you a clean shot from that thing will put you in the hospital, even with your diamond bod.

You keep moving, skipping serpentine, until you get to Kyoko's big bro. He's slumped in a standing knockout, with a death grip on his golden wooden sword.

You check his pulse and breathing, see he's alive. You gently place Kyoko down, then slap him awake.

He swings his sword at you on blind reflex, you have to work to dodge it. Impressive.

"Nice try, Thugboy," you tease. "Aim for the monster next time, yeah?"

"Bwuh?" Thugboy says, shaking out the cobwebs. "Maj chica? What are you doing here?"

You point to the bear stomping towards you, notice the technicolor fuckery dripping from its slavering, poorly sutured shut mouth. "Saving people from that," you say. "Take Kyoko and get your happy ass out of here."

Thugboy pounds his chest and readies his sword. "I can take this thing."

As if to make proof of his galactic hubris, the patchwork bear swipes a claw at him, all rusty scythes and razor wind.

"Shit!" You get your nailbat just in time for him to not get bisected. The clash of claw on bat shakes you to your bones. A cut blooms on your cheek, drawing a drop of blood.

"I got this!" Thugboy says from behind you.

You roar and push the patchwork bear back, then turn to roar at Thugboy. "The only thing you'll get is my foot up your ass if you don't get the fuck out of here!"

Kyoko tugs at Thugboy's gakuran. "We should go, Big Bro."

Thugboy looks down to Kyoko, up to you, and away in shame. "...I owe you another one." He takes Kyoko's hand and they both run down the mountain.

And not a moment too soon, as the bear's back on its bullshit, swiping at you with claws that, upon further review, are rusty scythe blades. You parry one swipe and roll under the other, the aftershock of it makes your twintails dance madly.

Your grin is back, jaws clenched with tension. You want to trade blows with this titan, see how closely you can dance with death, but you have a job to do first. You look around for any bystanders and any casualties.

You see a few limp bodies, but the bystanders have mostly fled. Your presence must have freed them from paralytic terror. Which is funny, given how many people you've frozen fast with fear in your young life. You get to work checking on the unmoving: none of them are dead, thank God, but they're all pretty banged up.

+Status report, love?+ Alice pings you, a little sickness still in her voice.

+Big fuckoff bear thing,+ you ping back. +Nobody dead, lotta injured. I'm sending those who can still walk Chiaki's way. Got a couple who can't.+

+Get the wounded to safety as best you can,+ Alice pings. +I'll see what I can do for them+

You cut the connection and survey the scene. Only a few stragglers remain on their feet, smartphones taking silent vigil. Too focused on getting content to flee properly.

"Oi!" You yell to the them. "This ain't no damn special attraction! Get outta here unless you want to die!"

Your words fall on deaf ears, but the sight of you eating a meat hook from the patchwork bear gets the message across. They run for their lives while you grimace in pain.

You got your bat up and your diamond bod activated, but it still feels like your liver exploded. Even as you wince from the pain, your cheeks quirk up to make a face-splitting smile. You spit a glob of blood out and into the patchwork bear's face, then bare your teeth to its insulted growling.

Flecks of its drool splatter on you, reeking of oil paint and rot. It rears back, ready to Julienne you with a double paw strike. You pour your Will into your feet and flash step around it, leaving its ruinous blow to carve stone and pulp trees. It looks around for you, then turns its attention to the escapees.

"Holee shit..." you mumble, as you direct your Will into your free hand to take a hot pink potshot at the back of its head.

That gets its attention back on you; you lead the patchwork bear away from the bystanders' avenues of escape by dint of being a nuisance. It can't catch you now, and that seems to be pissing it off. It huffs with exertion as you lead it in a drunkard's walk around the shrine, its lumbering steps get slower and heavier.

You're just fast enough now to stir awake some of the unconscious shrinegoers and carry away the others as you dodge the patchwork bear's looping strikes. A shot or two of your blazing soul to the eyes or nose keeps it from getting its bearings or breaking off to run down the stragglers.

With this rhythm, you manage to bait it into putting out some of the fires; sometimes with missed swipes, sometimes by stepping on them. The smell of burning polyester and cooked flesh assaults your nostrils, throwing off your rhythm enough for the patchwork bear to find an opening to charge you.

With another, more desperate roll, you get out of the way. Your coat-cape ends up a casualty, shredded half to uselessness with angry gashes. As you get to your feet, you notice three things.

One: a roughed up, ginger Miko strung up by her ankles with shining red string to a sacred tree. She's slowly bleeding out into the dirt.

Two: a crimson hooded, witchlike figure coming out of the main shrine, holding a box that screams with magical energy, and getting cussed out by the Miko in impressively filthy Spanish.

Three: the patchwork bear, who you now realize has the same red string binding the miko stitched all over it, is readying up for another charge.

[What do you do?]
[ ] Go for the Miko. You're still here to save people.
[ ] Go for the hooded figure. You'd put money on the box they have holding the Raising☆Heart or worse.
[ ] Go for the bear. You need to and want to assert your dominance over it.