Hi there. *smiles* I usually don't write notes before my work, but I just wanted to let you know that I do have permission from Alica Tylon to use her character in this story, thank you very much. So if you were to run over to her and cry, "Alica, Alica! Someone's useing your characters!" and tell her about this story she would just say: "Oh, I know. It's a great story isn't it?" She has already read it. She reads it before you do... so there! *sticks her tongue out at you*
Enter the Tylons
He strolled casually down the seemingly endless hallway, passing doors with numbers and sometimes very small windows as he made for the right door. The entire hallway was painted in an unbearably clean shade of white. How completely inappropriate, he thought. The shade was like a sheep's woolen coat covering the hiding wolf. The laboratories of Tylon really ought to be painted in human blood... or zoanthrope blood. Either way it makes no difference. A distant scream echoed down the lonely hallway, whispering of the terror going on in other parts of the building. He reached the correct door and pulled it open.
On the other side was a mid-sized room, a couple sofas and recliners scattered carelessly to his left. On one couch lounged a large, ugly, man whose appearance somewhat resembled a gorilla wearing a top hat. The wall to the right was occupied by a little vanity with a few drawers and a large mirror. A man dressed in short-shorts and a pink bra sat in front of it pulling his long, blond hair up into a bun, straightening his bangs, and applying his make-up.
"Good morning psycho bitch." the first greeted sarcastically.
"Good morning, cold-hearted destroyer of innocent souls." the transvestite replied cooly, not bothering to look up from his work. A creepy looking old man dressed in ninja gi entered the room through the opposite door.
"Good morning Fox," his worn voice grated as he glared at the man in pink. "and my other fellow bloody murderers." he added, noticing the man standing in the other doorway.
"Good morning pathetic old excuse for an assassin." Fox mumbled.
"I am Bakuryu!" the other yelled, offended. "Master of the art of Ninjitsu! Slayer of the human spirit, bringer of death, destoryer of..."
"Oh, shut up!" came Fox's feminine whine as he turned from the vanity to glare at the old man. "I can't bare to listen to that hideous raspy voice of yours another second!"
"Good morning old one." the gorrilla man greeted Bakuryu.
"Old one!?!" the other fumed, turning towars the person he had previously ignored completely. "I will tear a fresh hole through your empty head for this Greg!" Just then the door opened behind him and a man entered the room. His lithe, and slightly muscular frame eased into the room gracefully, his hair flowing with his movements. It was cut slightly above his shoulders and red at the roots, slowly fading into a pitch black. He wore the balck oriental-style Tylon uniform with red and silver trim. And as if that were not enough to identify him, he also had the deep indigo eyes that clearly marked him as a Tylon.
"Children, children... Why must we quarrel so?" his smooth voice demanded. The old assassin took a seat on the second couch, away from Greg. The other man walked through the doorway and decided to sit on a recliner, proping his feet up in a careless and almost disrespectful manner while everyone turned their eyes to Tylon. "This is a very important day for all of you, there are so many people to kill and such little time. I know 318 will take me seriously..." Tylon looked over at him for the first time. "You arrogent piece of $#@%! Put that footrest down!" He nodded to Tylon and obeyed immediately.
"So you're #318?" Greg asked, looking him over. "I've heard of you..."
"He is not Tylon's top assassin!" Bakuryu asserted. "I..."
"Silence, old fool!" Tylon yelled, running out of patience quickly.
"Hey, Van... where's the money for my circus?" Greg asked. Tylon glared daggers at him and he cowered on the sofa.
"What has the day in store for us, oh omnipotent master?" Fox sucked up. Van Tylon winced at the remark.
"Many deaths for the enemies of Tylon." he replied darkly. "This will be a busy day for all of you... speaking of which..." he glanced around the room. "...we are short one assassin today." He walked over to the door to his right, the one Bakuryu had come out of, and yelled for assisstance. A timid voice replied, requesting to be of service. "Be a good little gopher and tell Alica to get her @$$ in here!" He turned to address the room once more. "I will go into my office and call you all in individually to recieve your assignments." That said he walked through the door and the others sat in the room, awaiting their call.
"So..." Bakuryu grumbled, looking at the assassin lounging in the recliner. "I haven't seen you before... why are you here?"
"#318 over there is the latest import from our chapter in China, didn't you know?" Fox cooly informed them. "He must be here for some important mission, probably something Tylon feels we're not skilled enough to handle."
"I am insulted." Greg mumbled. "First you and now this guy... he doesn't look so tough."
"You are insulted!" Bakuryu fumed. "You couldn't even kill a little girl without a weapon! But I am the great Bakuryu! I, who have killed thousands with nothing other than my bare hands! I..." Fox grabbed a brush from his vanity and threw it at the bragging old man, it hit him square in the head. "Ouch!" He growled angrilly and threw the brush back at Fox, who caught it skillfully with one hand and started brushing through his bangs.
"Oh, my beautiful Fox!" he nearly swooned at his image in the mirror, "You are looking so bishounen this morning!" He started blowing kisses to his image in the mirror.
"Ugh..." Greg groaned. The old man rolled his eyes and the new assassin chuckled at it.
"So what is the deal Fox?" Bakuryu wondered. "You know him from somewhere?"
"I have worked with him before." Fox replied absently, still gazing dreamilly at his own face in the mirror.
"He looks a little familiar to me..." Greg admitted, scratching his head and trying to remember where he'd seen the man's face before.
"Think about seven years into the past." the newcomer muttered so softly you could hardly hear him from across the room.
"Huh, what did you say?" Greg hadn't heard him.
"An du tai zou kai reng jiu zai yi ge di ceng.*" #318 insulted in his native tongue.
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Fox agreed, looking at the ape's reflection in the mirror. "As if it were not enough that his very existance is cursed with such a horrifying countenance... he is also such a dumb@$$." Greg growled angrilly at the remark, but made no move to assult the other assassin. The three sat in an irritating, uncomfortable silence while awaiting their assignments, until the door to the left of the room opened. In walked an a woman in a lab coat with quasi-Asian features. Her bangs black as death, the rest of her hair was white as the spotless paint on the walls, and tied back in a loose ponytail. Underneath the squared frames of her glasses her eyes were a deep indigo.
"A Tylon." #318 declared. "But... Not a full-blooded Tylon. Am I right?"
"What? How did you...?" she trailed off, staring at him for a moment. Then she walked over to the couch and took a seat on the end away from Greg. "Who are you? You're not one of the regulars here."
"Ah-ah." he shook his finger as though scholding her. "I don't answer any questions untill my question is answered first."
"Fine then. I am half-Tylon, but you already knew that, didn't you? You have been working for the Tylon family for a long time?"
"Long enough." he replied, chuckling.
"So, I repeat, who are you?"
"He is #318." Fox interrupted. "Surely you've heard of him? And let me tell you chicky, his ego is almost as big as his reputation."
"Oh, really Hans? I beg to differ." #318 retorted.
"Don't call me that deary," he pouted. "I much prefer Fox."
"Call me by any term of endearment again and I'll tie you to a chair and shave your head bald!" Fox gasped in shock at the thought.
"So, #318 huh?" Alica surmised. "And is there a name that goes with that number, or shall I refer to you as though you were a statistc?"
"My name is not a handout." he replied. "After all I certainly wouldn't want myself in Hans Tauberman's predicament."
"Oooo, you make me so mad!" Fox yelled, throwing his brush at #318. He shot an arm up and caught it mere inches away from his face and then waved it back and forth in the air alluringly.
"You want this back Hans?"
"Grrr! I liked you better back in China! You were always so quiet there... and what makes you so talkative here, hm?" he glanced around the room, stopping his gaze on Alica. "Oh, I get it. You like the lady? Not many of them back in your home district, ne? Does that mean you're a het? What a shame, I always thought you would make such a lovely bishie with your dainty Asian features."
"Ugh..." he groaned at the thought, throwing the brush back at Fox. It was so quick the he failed to grab it and it beaned him in the head.
"How ruuuude!" Hans whined, picking the brush up off the floor. He then turned towards the mirror and continued brushing through his bangs.
"Fox is always looking for love in all the wrong places." Greg commented. "Take Busuzima for instance..."
"Oh God." Alica moaned. "I'd thank you kindly not to mention his name."
"Busu-kun!" Fox squealed at the thought. "Hideous as he is, he is the only one who truly appreciates my beauty!"
"Good thing he's too ugly to find anyone else." Greg teased. "Or else he would break your poor little heart Hansey. Busuzima is hardly loyal, he flirts with anyone around him with good looks, male or female..."
"That rules you out." Bakuryu grumbled.
"Don't say that!" Fox cried, throwing the brush at Greg, who was much too slow to stop it from beaning him right in the face.
"Are you quite done throwing your brush at everyone who displeases you?" #318 questioned. "Or is Alica next?"
"Oh shut up!" Fox gracefully walked over to Greg and slapped him in the face before picking her brush off of the couch. "My Busu-kun would never!"
"I killed someone with a brush once." Bakuryu bragged. "She was standing in front of a mirror, brushing through her lovely, long brown hair... And then I grabbed the brush from her hands and shoved it down her throat, muwahahaha! And she chocked to death!"
"How horrid!" Fox cried, hitting him over the head with his brush before returning to his seat at the vanity. "Although... it must have been a beautiful way to die..." The door to his left opened again, this time to admit a brown-haired, green-eyed woman, dressed in the white Tylon Elite Forces uniform with black trim.
"Agent #318, Tylon is ready to see you." he nodded to her politely and got up from his seat.
"Vark?" Alica asked. "Does Van even know that I'm here?"
"I have informed him of it." the woman replied coldly, holding the door open for 318 and then closing it as she left to escort him to Tylon's office.
"They called him in first?" Alica was confused. She was Van's brother, and the top assassin in their district. She had always been the first to recieve her assignments before.
"Unnerving isn't it?" Fox whined. "I despise that he is a better assassin than beautiful me!"
"I despise it too." Bakuryu grumbled, finally admitting it was true.
"All I want is the money for my circus!" Greg complained. "I never had planned on working for Tylon this long!"
"At least the leader isn't your dear half-brother." Alica mumbled. "I'm going to have a little talk with him about this."
*I see your intelligence remains at a low level.