Double Trouble

The mission poster itself was rather benign and easy to miss.

Stuck behind a rather boisterous looking bounty poster of a monster was a tiny little note, handwritten by a busy mother who probably didn’t even have the time to draw up an elaborate or eye catching display to get her job noticed. Reyna plucked it out from behind the poster above it and pulled it close to her face so that she could read it clearly.

She immediately understood why the note hadn’t been particularly large or magical-looking. It was a boring job for decent pay that would probably offer her just enough to cover her rent in the city. Those were, of course, the upsides. The downsides were that, if she took the job, she’d be dealing with a pair of mousy little children. Children were, by default, messy and temperamental.

She was both of those things too, but she was also classy. Children had no class. They had approximately two settings: crying, and not crying yet.

It was with a twinge of subtle regret that Reyna pocketed the note.

A month’s rent was nothing to balk at -- especially for only a half day’s work. How bad could two children really be?

Pretty bad.

That was the consensus not even two seconds after meeting the children described in the note. According to Alice, both of her children were different from each other in the regard that one of them could be considered “calmer” than the other. Judging by the nervous energy both kids exuded by literally bombarding Reyna with questions the very instant that they met her, this was not only completely untrue, but a honeypot for the job’s admittedly few takers.

Zachary swirled around to Reyna’s left side and tugged at her cape while Chris tried to get a good look at her from the right.

“Where are you from?”
“What’s this tattoo for?”
“Are you a mage?”
“Can you do MAGIC?”

A vein throbbed gently in Reyna’s forehead as she clamped her hand down around Zachary’s shoulder and shepherded him into Chris. The two twins bumped together and quieted just long enough for Reyna to squeeze in a few answers.

“Yes.”

She coughed to clear her throat and made sure that the boys didn’t bombard her with any further questions. She wasn’t about to be mercilessly attacked by two children that were already wired up. She’d hardly arrived in Peace Village an hour ago and she was awfully tired from her journey. She wasn’t going to sit there and suffer through two brats telling her how to live her life.

Well, okay, they weren’t telling her how to live her life. But they were being immensely frustrating!

”I am not here to answer questions,” Reyna declared, sounding rather matronly. ”I’m here to take you to an amusement park.”

”I don’t have all day.”

She led them off like particularly excitable sheep without another word.

“Excuse me,” a young girl of about twelve years of age spoke up. She had blonde hair and blue eyes with a bored expression despite being in line for an amusement park. The fact of the matter was that she had been here all day. After obtaining a passport for her and Eliot and delivering a letter from some crazed fan, she had accumulated quite a bit of jewels.

She was now in debt by several thousand jewels.

“You cut me,” she lied. “It might be because your children that you didn’t see me, it’s okay. You know, a single teen mom taking her children to the amusement park is heartwarming to see, but maybe you shouldn’t be spending your life savings to do it?”

As if there was nothing abnormal in doing so, Leivinia walked in front of the trio and took her new place in line without another word. Amusement rides were just funner if you didn’t have to wait, y’know?

Reyna didn’t hear most of what the third unwanted child said. The start of her little speech streamed through her left ear and out through the right ear without registering much of anything. It wasn’t until she heard the words “single teen mom” that she actually glanced over to appraise the little blonde girl and her particularly dastardly little face.

It was hardly a second later that the tiny mongrel cut in front of her, which of course prompted Chris and Zack to glance up at Reyna expectantly. Reyna glanced back at them (perhaps “glared” would be more accurate) and then turned to face the back of the blonde girl in frustrated silence.

”I’m not sure if you think I’m deaf or poor, but I don’t quite think you’re tall enough for this ride,” she muttered, putting a hand on the shoulder of both children at her sides. With a very brisque bustle of the hips, she pushed Chris at the little girl’s side while she was walking by her to take her rightful place in line.

”OH NO, IT SEEMS MY CHILD HAS TRIPPED AND FALLEN ALL OVER YOU. WHAT AN UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCE. IF ONLY YOU HAD BEEN PAYING MORE ATTENTION.”

She didn’t even care to look if the child was hit by her Chris-jectile. It didn’t matter. Chris’d had it coming all morning by being the most annoying child she’d ever met in her life... well, second most annoying.

Leivinia was silent as she absorbed the information being spoken by the single teen mom whom was deaf and poor. Finally, she looked down and scrolled up at the figure of this woman who didn’t even know where her kid’s father was at. “You’re right,” she acknowledged. In fact, she was exactly 3 inches too short. “Give me your shoes.” She spoke those words as if she was asking a life-long friend for a pencil at the start of a test. And then the next thing she knew, she was on the floor; she had been shoved by somebody twice in the span of a single day and that was just not good.

She didn’t get up.

“Uhh… I don’t think a mom that would take their kids to an amusement park is the sort of person to throw their kids like that, right?” She was rubbing her head furiously in a futile attempt to make the pain go away.

“So… you’re a babysitter?”

Right. That meant war.

With those four words, Leivinia stood up. She must have only weighed 88 pounds but that wouldn’t stop her from picking the child named Chris up over her head with both arms. “I suggest a trade,” she offered while looking hungrily at the shoes which would allow her to ride the tea cups for the 23rd time today.

Reyna didn’t bat an eye in the child’s direction when she picked Chris up over her head like some kind of hitchiker’s sign. In fact, she stared blankly forward, eager to advance toward the ride in the distance with whatever remained of her poor, deaf dignity. Still, she did actually listen to the little girl this time. After all, the sniveling little brat’d already captured her attention. What harm could listening for a few more seconds do her?

“I suggest a trade,” the little terrorist said. Reyna knew immediately what she was referring to -- or probably did -- and hence didn’t bother to look. She assumed that she had Chris by the throat or something. Or like, held over her head like some kind of Ken Doll about to be ripped into thirds by the hands of a frustrated toddler.

”If they’re not my children,” Reyna mused, clearly in deep thought. ”Why would I make that trade? My boots cost me more than the tickets to this amusement park did, and I like them. They’re nice and shiny and good for stomping.”

Zack tugged at her sleeve, immediately apprehensive.

“B-but he’s my brother, right?”

Reyna hushed him.

”Was, yes, likely. Shut up, Christopher, I’m bargaining.”

“My name is Zachary--”

She then turned to the little girl, glaring down deep into the soulless abyss that was childhood innocence (or domestic terrorism at the heart of an amusement park). She was only six inches taller than the dwarf that was holding her mission priority hostage. Perhaps that was decent leverage. Perhaps it wasn’t. She wasn’t really sure how effective height intimidation would be, considering the fact that she was typically the short one.

”How would you like to be sold into child slavery instead?” Reyna said, rather abruptly. ”It’s a lot like adult slavery, I’d think, but for children.”

“I understand” Leivnia said with a nod of her head. The woman in front of her was clearly some sort of deaf, poor genius. She tossed the child down onto the concrete in admiration. “But it would be problematic if we only sold him into ‘child slavery.’” She turned to look at the one named Zack and her eyes were glossed over with greed. “I’ll raise the stakes and offer we sell both of them in order to maximize profit,” she added on.

“With my shares, I would like to purchase your shoes. They are nice and shiny and good for stomping children into child slavery,” Leivinia observed, not fully understanding what this child slavery was. The kids fell silent, sure that their cruel babysitter wouldn’t allow it yet not certain if their safety was ensured.

“With your shares, I would like you to purchase me some cotton candy.”

Reyna nodded in unison with the little girl, suddenly struck by the awareness that she was dealing with an exceptionally clever child. As the young girl (who reminded her an awful lot of herself) tossed Chris onto the pavement, Reyna placed her hands on her hips and followed the young girl’s gaze to Zackary/Zachary. Honestly, she didn’t remember how he spelled his name. She’d looked over the note for approximately twelve seconds.

”This is a solid idea,” Reyna admitted. She eyed Zack with a little bit of disdain and swiveled to face her new comrade with a genuinely curious expression. Her lips were quirked up into a little knot and her nose was wrinkled back, as if she were smelling something new and unusual for the first time.

”I’ll take you up on that offer, as the quality of my boots has been properly extrapolated upon,” she began, sounding way more serious than she was used to. ”Though first, I have to know -- what is the name of this child genius that I intend to purchase the aforementioned cotton candy for?”

As if to be polite, she bowed (hands still on her hips) and rose back up like a wooden duck dipping into a glass of water.

”My name is Reyna Henrietta Basterbine, for reference, and you can feel free to call me any of the three.”

“Heheheh!” Leivinia couldn’t help but chortle at her victory, standing with her chest jutted out and her hands on her hips. She brought her index finger up to her nose and grinned. “Leivinia Rikou,” she replied. “I’ll have you know that not just any cotton candy will do though,” she warned with the utmost sincerity. “It needs to be puffy! And on a stick, of course, but the stick needs to be shaped like a cone. And it HAS to be blue! Or pink. It can also be purple if you can find some that is purple. Actually, no, it HAS to be purple, okay?”

As she was listing her demands, she almost didn’t see the business woman coming up from behind her. She had glasses, a business suit, and a briefcase. Was this a lawyer that Leivinia had hired in order to ensure her deal of receiving cotton candy would be upheld?

“I got off work early,” the business woman said, dismissing the thought of her being a lawyer. “I’ll be taking my children back now.”