In which Rachel and Taylor meet a magician and an eccentric doctor.
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
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Gestalt
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Gestalt
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[X] What do I have to do to get some service around here?
- - [X] Susan's hat is right there. You're familiar with the thing. Maybe if you do something (non-destructive) she'll notice?
You turn your attention to Susan's Hat. Yes, it's something that deserves Capital Letters.
You're familiar with this piece of headgear. It's hard to have visited The Clinic and not have Susan's Hat burned into your memory in some way. Susan does things with this Hat. Things which really underline the "Magical" part of "Magical Girl", and she does them very, very casually. You're not sure how much of that is her intimidating the patrons into not starting shit inside her bar, and how much of it is just that Susan's been in her Puella Magi guise so long and so constantly that she's quite comfortable using her magic for convenience.
Either is a terrifying prospect.
Still, Susan's Hat is right there, sat innocently on the countertop. It's a part of her costume and... well, you know from experience that a Puella Magi's costume is somewhat different from ordinary cloth and thread. Try messing with it long enough and you realize that it's linked to the girl it belongs to, and tends to want to remain with her. So seeing The Hat here gives you the sneaking suspicion that Susan's not that far away from her bar, and she must've left it there for a reason, right?
You reach across the counter. Taylor pauses on her ruminations about Missy Biron to look at what you're doing, and you nudge The Hat with your fingertips. The cloth and felt stays perfectly put on the wood, even when you apply more pressure to it.
"... Rachel?" Taylor asks.
"Juuust a sec," you tell her. You're standing on the footrest of your stool, and reaching over the counter at an angle to get at the hat. You mess with it some more, and confirm that it is, indeed, stuck to the table. You guess that you could get it off if you really tried, but you don't imagine that wouldn't involve some degree of property damage. And you'd rather not be banned from The Clinic, thank you very much.
You press down on the top of The Hat, and it just... er. The Hat telescopes downwards, into the white ribbon wrapped around the base, just above the rim, until it stops with a clack after an inch or so. When you remove your hand, The Hat springs back up to normal... or whatever counts as normal for the thing.
Taylor stares at the hat and you. You make a helpless gesture at her, and, after a moment's thought, give The Hat a sharp tap downwards.
It rings like a bell, the sound echoing around the room in a way that is juuuust a little longer than would be natural. You go back to your seat, glancing at Taylor, who is staring at you with no small amount of confusion.
"'oo the gypsy nell is it?"
And then you hear a voice come the hat, and she jumps, almost falling off of her seat. To be fair to Taylor, you almost do the same thing.
The hat raises up from the counter, lifted by a white-gloved hand. With a shove, the hat flipped over, allowing another hand to pry it wider, and Susan to pull herself --well, from the waist up-- out of it.
Taylor's stares. Normally, you'd do something to get her to stop but... yeah. It's Susan. She does shit like this.
Susan's costume is straight out of a magic show; black Tux jacket over a black vest and a white shirt, with white bowtie around her neck. There's a flower stuck to her lapel, although you're almost sure that it's a different one every time you've looked at her. You can't see it with the lower half of Susan's body being inside her hat, but you also know that underneath the shirt, there's a red leotard. Tights cover her legs, and she wears short-heeled shoes.
After the magician getup, the second thing anyone notices about Susan is... er...
"And I was 'aving such a good sleep," Susan grumbles, rubbing her eyes, "wot's all 'is fuckin' racket?"
It sounds racist every time you think about it, but you wonder how the combinaton of dark skin, red hair, green eyes, and that accent even happened. You might never know.
Susan squints at you and Taylor. It takes a moment for her to recognize you.
"Oh!" she says, "I's 'e 'iny nazi chick!"
You staaaaaaare at her. She stares back, smile sloooowly dropping.
... You hate everyone, you decide, as you let your head drop onto the counter with a crack.
"... Ah, I said 'at ou' loud, didn' I?" Susan sheepishly adds, and you can imagine her rubbing the back of her head. You just groan.
"Someday," you say, "I'm gonna snap, and have 'I'm not a fucking nazi' tatooed to my fucking forehead."
"... Uh... Please don't do that," Taylor suggests.
"'o be fair, 'er cos'ume's kinda dis'inc'," Susan offers. You hear a rustle of fabric, and then the clack-clack of shoes hitting wood. When you look up, Susan's now standing behind the bar, and putting her hat on with one hand. The other is handing you a glass filled with... something orange. You grab it, and take a tentiative sip. To your slight disappointment, it's just orange juice.
"'at bein' said, i's a lot less..." Susan taps her chin, humming. "Eh, bla'ant 'han it was w'en you last came 'ere. No swas'ikas and shite, now." She flashes you a smile. "Er... well done?"
You stare at her for a long minute, and then sigh. "I just wish I could start changing the rest of it," you say, deciding to take the apology and olive branch for what they were intended to be, "Anyways... Susan, this is Taylor; she's got potential, but isn't one of us yet. Taylor, this is Susan; she runs the bar, keeps Alice from killing us all, and does magic shows on weekends."
"Some'imes wi' ac'ual magic, even," Susan quips. She sweeps one gloved hand across the counter, leaving behind a spread of cards, face up. Sweeps back; they're face down. She taps them, and they begin to shuffle themselves. "Nice 'o meet you, 'aylor," she tells the other girl, falling back to well-trained professionalism. She pauses for a moment, glancing at a clock on the wall. "Skippin' school 'oday?" she asks you, casually.
You shake your head. "We got locked out on the roof and decided we had better things to do than stay there freezing our butts off," you explain, "but we wanna get back there before school ends today, since there's no way to explain how we got down without people getting suspicious."
"... Wa' were you doin' on the roof?" Susan asks.
"It's the only place we can eat lunch in peace." This time, it's Taylor who answers, her voice quiet. Susan nods in understanding, and slides her a glass identical to the one she served you.
"So!" the magician says, the deck of cards leaping up to land in her hand. "I imagine you're 'ere for a reason?" She holds up a hand. "No offence, Rachel, bu' yer not exac'ly the social type." She gives a meaningful look behind you, where you're sure the two girls are still staring at you. Taylor stiffens at this, actually turning around to look in their direction.
"Yyyeah," you answer, dropping your voice and leaning in, "Taylor's asked me to take her with me tonight." At Susan's raised eyebrow, you add, "Sarah's coming with, so it should be mostly safe."
"Sarah," Susan deadpans, giving you a level look.
"She's a cackling hyena who gets off on making people murderously angry with her and a generally unpleasant person," you say, agreeing with the implied statement, "But she's not bad at being a Magical Girl, which is the relevant part." You shrug. "But I'd feel better with some insurance, still."
"Ah," Susan says, nodding, "Well, in tha' case-"
Exactly what she was about to offer to you gets interrupted by something bursting from the doorway behind her, making Susan drop down to the ground with a shriek. A ball of paper, scissors, rulers, and solidified hatred for mankind hurtles towards you, and you end up toppling backwards into the floor in your attempt to dodge, cracking your head hard enough for you to briefly see double, while Taylor nearly suffers the same fate, just barely catching herself on the counter. Behind you, the two girls who had been casting suspicious eyes towards you scramble to get out of the way as the flying creature divebombs them, and the redhead who had been sleeping is now on the floor, cursing in something that isn't english.
"GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE BLOODY BUGGER!!"
Alice vaults over the bar, chasing after the bird made from stationary --the Familiar. There are several cuts on her face, her large, round frameless glasses are skewed, and her long cherry-blonde hair looks like it's been attacked with a weed whacker. Her costume --white knee-length skirt, black blouse with a green bowtie, ruby shoes and over that a massive labcoat decorated in swirling silver patterns and red crosses-- also looks like it had an argument with something sharp and angry, sporting several tears and cuts and tears. The healer's brown eyes are glued to the flying creature, and she bolts after it, a large butterfly net in her hands.
"GET BACK HERE!" she shrieks at the runaway Familiar flapping around the Lounge, climbing over tables, chairs, sofas, and slightly concussed Magical Girls (namely you) as she does, swinging the net at it. "STUPID BLASTED BIRD! I LET YOU OUT OF YOUR CAGE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!? I'LL BE FEEDING YOU RAISINS FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE LIFE!"
You stare at the ceiling.
[-] Get involved. It's a Familiar, and you're a Magical Girl. Given it's Alice, she'll repay you in some way.
[-] You are a level of Done which no human being has ever experienced. Alice has Missy and Susan on payrol. They can handle this. You refuse to get involved with these shenanigans. Get back up, sit down, and finish your fucking orange juice.
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] Well, that depends on what you're offering.