Season 1, Episode 6 - The Tree Plot XXXIV - "The Skirt"

“He actually shot me!” Coleridge cried out as he fell to the ground, landing on concrete next to the dazed Ice. “The bastard actually shot me!” Blood pooled around the bullet wound in his arm as he writhed on the ground. “Isaac and Lynn made getting shot seem like no big deal, but this actually hurts!”

Despite the pain pounding in her head, the Ice sister knew her ex-boyfriend needed help. With Clayton and Hanai engaged in a fight, it was up to her to make sure Coleridge survived this. She balled her hands into fists and stumbled over to him. With a look of fierce determination, she tried to rip a strip of her skirt off to tie around his wound and slow the bleeding, but soon she was fumbling with the fabric, pulling unsuccessfully with pained grunts; turns out skirts are actually hard to tear. After a moment of struggling, she only succeeded in ripping her skirt straight in two; both parts fell to her ankles. A cold breeze ran through her as she stared blankly at Coleridge.

Clayton and Hanai had their own fish to fry. Clayton immediately sent a gust of wind to knock away the man’s pistol; the car drove off in a hurry. As Hanai went after it, two burly men burst through the windows behind them, each armed with metal pipes. Clayton dodged their strikes, knocking each of them back with strong breezes.

When one of his attackers left an opening for him, Clayton disarmed him of his pipe, then blasted him back through the window from whence he came. When the other man went to attack him from behind, a rock suddenly protruded from the asphalt, sending the man stumbling. Clayton knocked away his pipe with another gust of wind, then sent him to join his friend back in the building.

Red Rddhi flickered from the protruding rock back to Coleridge’s hand, planted firmly against the ground. “You can’t kill me,” he said in-between sobs.

As for the car - before it could take a turn and escape, Hanai jumped into the middle of the street and placed his hands on the ground. The entire block rumbled, and then lava emerged from the middle of the street, following the car like a hunting dog hot on the tails of its prey. The lava reached the back of the car and burned it away; the car spun wildly until crashing into a streetlamp, bringing it to a halt.

As Clayton and Hanai went to investigate the car, Ice finished wrapping part of her torn skirt around Coleridge’s wound. He finally managed to calm down. “You washed this before wearing it, right?” he asked in a voice full of suspicion.

Ice didn’t answer. Coleridge stifled a groan.

When the work was done, Ice helped Coleridge to his feet. That’s when he noticed the pale skin of Ice’s bare thighs and just how cold it was up in Androscoggin. Her lips were purple and goosebumps covered her exposed parts.

He sighed and took off his pants. “Here, take mine,” he offered, looking away, putting on a tough face, ignoring the shrill chill quickly invading his exposed legs.

Ice gazed at him tenderly. “But…you’ll be cold.”

Coleridge looked even further away. “I’ll be alright. You should be wearing pants right now…for a number of reasons.”

Ice placed a hand on his pants. They felt warm to the touch. Ice felt a warmth in her heart.

“It won’t be fair to you if I take them,” she decided. “We should share them.”

“...wait, what?”

Ice tore the pants in two; turns out pants are actually easy to tear. She took a single pant leg for herself and left the other to Coleridge. When Coleridge looked at her, she closed her eyes, tilted her head, and made a small noise of friendship. “There. Now, each of us won’t be cold-”

“How the hell are we supposed to wear a single pant leg each!”

Meanwhile, Clayton and Hanai dragged three bodies out of the smoking car - the driver, the passenger, and the gunman from earlier. The former two were knocked out cold; the latter was fearful, but awake. Hanai brought him into a nearby alleyway, out of sight from any onlookers (at least they were already on a quiet street), and tossed him into the brick wall.

“Who sent you after us!” Hanai barked at him.

The gunman raised his hands. “Please don’t hurt me! I-I’m a migrant from the countryside. My family lives in the shantytown outside the city. I-I did it because they offered me enough money to get us out of here.”

Clayton crossed his arms as he joined them in the alleyway. “Who’s they?”

The man looked fearfully between them. “They…they didn’t give names, but…promise me, you’ll protect me from reprisals, right? They might kill me if I give their identity away.”

“We might kill you right now,” Hanai said gruffly.

The man looked at him with wide eyes; Hanai stared back behind his glasses. Fortunately, the man didn’t call Hanai’s bluff.

“A-alright,” he finally said. “It was a woman. She didn’t give me her name, but she was blonde…and she was a Rddhi user.”

Clayton and Hanai glanced at each other.

“What was her power?” Clayton asked, his face contorted in thought.

The man swallowed. “She used some sort of power involving strings.”

Clayton grabbed the man by both of his shoulders. “Are you sure she never gave you her name? Tell me!”

The man coughed and breathed raggedly. “N-no names. She said she didn’t give names in her business.”

Clayton shook him violently. “Did she say anything us?”

The man shook his head. “All I know is that she came into the shantytown about a month ago. I-I admit, I was a small-time crook back then, but I gotta feed my family, you know? She took over the operation just like that and said…she said we needed to dream bigger. There needs to be a point in being criminals.”

Hanai placed a hand on Clayton’s shoulder; the man was on the verge of passing out. Clayton took a deep breath and let go of the man; he slumped against the wall, then fell onto his side.

“It’s Eos,” Clayton realized, running a hand through his sandy hair.

“Eos?”

Clayton looked up at the stars. You could see fourteen up here - a small improvement over Narragansett, but didn’t give Clayton too much comfort at the moment.

“A girl I used to run with. Before enrolling in the Academy.”

Hanai didn’t understand. “You ran with a criminal?”

Clayton shook his head. “She wasn’t just a criminal. She taught me how to read and write and dream.”

Hanai watched his breath condense in front of his face. “So…you think a girl you used to know is now running a criminal outfit in the Androscoggin shantytown?”

Clayton glanced back at him. “You say that like you don’t believe me.”

“I'm not saying it's impossible. But it seems a little unlikely."

Clayton spread his arms wide. “Eos was a blonde girl who used strings! It fits perfectly! We need to go to the shantytown.”

“You last saw her years ago!” Hanai countered. “Things change. It could be a different person. And even if it is this Eos - she’s still a criminal. And you’re not. What will happen if you meet her?”

Clayton didn’t answer.

Coleridge and Ice emerged in the alleyway; his wound had been wrapped tightly, and although some pain was still visible on his face, he seemed back to his usual crotchety, inflated-ego self already.

“Where are both of your pants?” Clayton asked them. “We need to get you two some pants soon, because we’re going to raid the shantytown.”

“Woah-woah-woah,” Coleridge interrupted, holding his good hand up. “I'm just trying to lounge around my fire tonight. What’s this about a raid?”

“Clayton thinks a girl he used to know is now operating as a criminal out of the shantytown,” Hanai explained. “And seriously, where did both of your pants go?”

“Actually, that’s better,” Clayton decided. “You two get some pants and lounge around a fire. Hanai and I can check out the shantytown ourselves.”

When Clayton attempted to depart the alleyway, Hanai stepped in front of him. “Hold on,” he warned, his big frame blocking the way out. “We need to leave now to catch the ten o’clock train to Salem Slot.”

“What’s so important about that little mill town?” Clayton asked, his eyes narrowed. “Can’t we just go tomorrow?”

“I need to be in Quinsigamond by Thursday morning for Thanksgiving with my family,” Hanai explained, keeping his voice neutral. “Tomorrow is Wednesday. If we leave tomorrow, we’ll have to take the spur line to Machigonne, take another spur line to Salem Slot, buy my gift, then retrace those two spur lines, head back to Narragansett, type up our after-action report, drop my after-action report off at the Academy, meet with the Academy, deliver my gift, and make it to Quinsigamond in the span of a single day!”

Clayton spoke firmly. “We were supposed to just leave Androscoggin for Narragansett tomorrow morning. I never understood why you wanted to go to Salem Slot in the first place. There’s no student backgrounds we need to check out there.” He shook his head and let out an empty chuckle. “I see now. It’s all for a gift. Who’s it for, Hanai? Can’t be for your family.”

Hanai wouldn’t budge, but he started sweating. “What does that matter?”

Clayton poked him in the chest. “Is it a girl?”

When Hanai’s face went red, Clayton started laughing. “A girl’s got you running circles all over the country for her.”

Hanai threw his arms down and walked away. Coleridge and Ice watched the two friends, each with upset and disappointed looks on their faces, circle each other, each coming up with new verbal jabs.

“You’re one to talk,” Hanai said. “You’re hung up on a girl from your past.”

“And you?” Clayton asked.

“This could be my girl in the future,” Hanai simply answered.

Clayton rubbed his temples. “A girl from the past versus a girl from the future. How poetic.” He looked at the stars again. “You know what? We technically completed our mission already. We don’t need to work together anymore. You catch that ten o’clock train. I’ll go to the shantytown myself.”

Ice gathered all her courage and took a step forward. “Wait, friends shouldn’t fight! Friendship has power-”

“Enough!” Clayton and Hanai barked at her.

Ice retreated into the waiting arms of Coleridge - well, she retreated into him until he finally raised his arms around her. “Hey, I know you two are upset, but there’s no need to yell. It’s grating on my ears.”

Clayton shook his head and tried to depart the alleyway again.

“Wait!” Hanai called out. Clayton stopped and glanced back at him. “It’s dangerous to go alone.”

They made eye contact for a long moment that seemed to last a lifetime. “Well then,” Clayton concluded. “The choice is yours.”

“It doesn’t have to be a choice,” Hanai called out, but he caught himself. With furrowed brows, he lowered his hand and took a sharp look to the side. “Dammit.”

Rddhi flickered through Clayton’s hand. A gust of wind lifted the former gunman off his feet and into Clayton’s waiting arm. “You’ll lead me in the shantytown, alright?”

The man gave a series of nervous nods.

Clayton then looked at Coleridge. “Think you can get your father to send some MPs in as backup?”

“See!” Hanai pointed out. “It is dangerous.”

“Then go with me,” Clayton responded. Hanai kept quiet and looked away again.

Coleridge shrugged. “I don’t know. The Military Police tend to stay out of the shantytown. And Pops hates working nights.”

“Probably better this way,” Clayton supposed. With the gunman in tow, Clayton departed the alleyway. He took a turn down the street; the sound of his distant footsteps soon fell silent as he soldiered on.

The three people remaining in the alleyway kept quiet, letting the sound of nearby powerlines and distant cars ensconce them on this cold night.

"Should we go with them?" Ice asked. "There's now law in the shantytown except might makes right. If he gets caught and captured, we might never see him again."

Coleridge sighed. "I'm no hero. I wouldn't do something my Pops wouldn't do. The only thing a Coleridge does on a week night, even when friends are in danger, even when his city is in trouble, is sit around the television in a reclining chair. Sorry. That's just who I am."

Ice didn't have an answer for that. Neither did Hanai. The three hung around in that alleyway for a moment, collecting their thoughts.

Coleridge let out of a whistle. “Well, I hope you guys figure it out. Hanai, best of luck with your lady.”

Hanai spoke in a defeated tone. “And where are you going?”

“I told you, I got a fire waiting for me at home.”

Ice rubbed her hands together, and it wasn’t just because of the cold. “Um…Lionel…I’m not doing anything tonight…would you want to catch a movie with me or s-something?”

“Forget it, Ice,” Coleridge said in his best tough guy voice. “It’s Androscoggin. And I need to go home and return this turkey. And we’re still not wearing any pants.”