necessary_child | (no subject)

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They arrive in a small, dusty back-alley in central Bangkok. It is deserted and thus the first thing that meets them is the heat: harsh and bone-searingly dry, until Sam’s magic calls tiny breezes around them, keeping them cool. Though the alleyway is deserted, the buzz of people close by is loud in their ears, and at the entrance to the alleyway a multicoloured clamour of people are moving past.

Sam grins down at the small girl. "Welcome to Bangkok. My brother’s bookshop’s just around the corner. Keep a tight hold of your bag, and keep close. I am not searching the whole of this city for you."

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"Oh, it's been a bad... past few years for him." Buddha eyes the stairs wearily. "He'll turn up in about an hour and say something irrelevant, I don't doubt. Probably several things."

It is, however, considerably less than an hour before Sam reappears, looking distinctly worried. "Brother, how are your shields? We've got Firedancers a street away."

Considerably less than an hour is considerably longer than it takes for Matilda to go through a good third of Buddha's stock and accumulate a list as long as her arm of 'books I'd like to borrow but that won't fit in my bag because it's too full of explosives'.

"What's a Firedancer?" she asks curiously.

Buddha bliiiinks. "Firedancers? Here? How many?"

"Yes, if not exactly here then bloody close, and half a dozen," Sam snaps.

The brothers look at each other. Simultaneously: "Shit."

"I can't take six of them," Sam says matter-of-factly. "You're going to have to fight. I don't suppose," he adds hopefully, "that we've got another sibling around here that they could be after? Or that they could have been sent with perhaps a birthday card and nicely-wrapped pressie?"

Buddha shakes his head regretfully. "Unfortunately, no." And vanishes downstairs to retrieve his weapons. Sam just hopes he has them; it wouldn't surprise him to know that Buddha's forgotten where they are.

Sam turns to Matilda as he unwraps the package he's been carrying to withdraw a gleaming silver sword. "Firedancers are assassins. They're bloody good at their jobs, and fire can't hurt them. Can you open a door to Milliways?"

She blinks up at him.

"...Assassins? Who do they want to assassinate? No, I can't open a door to Milliways."

A contemplative expression appears on her face.

"If they're not hurt by fire, how do they feel about explosions?" She pats her bag absently.

"Well, going on past experience I would suggest 'me'. Either me or-- oh, to hell with it, his name is Buddha, anyway," Sam says grimly. "And explosions are usually helpful. Except perhaps not in a library."

"Unless the contents of aforementioned library are shielded by the best wards anyone other than a son of Magic could design," his brother says dryly, reappearing. He holds a simple, long blade distastefully in one large hand. "Which I want you behind before those murderers get here, Matilda."

< Are you sure you do the right thing, telling the child who I am? > he enquires.

< She's liable to find out when the Firedancers come calling, anyway. And where she's from- they're rather used to deities and such, round there. > He grins dangerously. "So, I can be messy, brother?"

Buddha's eyes are weary and almost nauseous at the idea, but he nods. "Get rid of them, Lucifer."

"That's the idea-"

DOOR GO BOOM.

"Well, fuck."

There are several very tall men in the library. Garish red shirts, jeans and hair, murderous expresssions, dragon-bone swords- just as deadly for an immortal as for a human. Just your average heavenly assassins, then.

She looks at them and giggles. She can't help it. The absurdity of the situation, perhaps, or maybe just a sudden adrenalin shock. Whatever the case, it doesn't prevent her from taking action.

As brief spate of giggles subsides, she drops her bag onto the floor and looks at it. It opens and violently disgorges books and origami paper. Still grinning maniacally, she picks it back up again, resettles the strap on her shoulder, and draws an innocuous-looking brown paper package from within. The package is marked by a dangling piece of vibrantly blue string, which she grasps with an air of supreme mischief.

"Explosions are helpful, are they?" she asks airily before launching the firework in the general direction of the intruders. It makes a very pretty boom, erupting in wild streaks of electric blue. Did you know that the colours in fireworks come from flecks of burning metal? If anyone in the room was ignorant of that fact, it is very probably safe to assume that they are ignorant no longer.

"So unnecessarily showy," Sam sighs. "Do you lot never just open doors?"

The brothers exchange startled looks at the explosive; Sam's grin broadens.

Light, white edged with blue, fills his hands. He hurls the coldfire at the Firedancers, hears them screech horribly as he lunges for the nearest with his blade at the same time as Matilda's firework hits.

Two down, one badly wounded, but despite the confusion another manages to punch him in the back of the head and Sam gasps with pain. Fire dances before his eyes as he kicks out wildly, catching another in the stomach.

Oh, my. Nasty people hitting our friends? We can't let that happen.

As she takes out her next firework, Matilda pauses and glares at the one that just hit Sam. Along with the glare comes a shove, and the Firedancer accelerates rapidly into a bookshelf, whose shields provide a satisfyingly nasty hard surface against which he is thrown like a rag doll from the hand of a temperamental child. That's one assassin that won't be getting up for awhile.

The new firework has a braid dangling from it - orange, red, and white. She looks at it, and it levitates, making a beeline for the sixth Firedancer, who hasn't yet done anything of note. Midway through its flight it explodes, still under the accelerating effect of Matilda's eyes. The result looks rather like an ordinary firework explosion would if you stretched it out into a fast-moving cone and aimed the wide end at someone you really didn't like. Needless to say it leaves its target down for the count.

She shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose, warding off an incipient headache. Throwing that much mass and then that much energy can't be good for the precious brainmeats.

As the explosions clears, Sam sits up groggily. "Hell. That the lot?"

"Apparently," Buddha says drily. "Matilda, are you all right?"

"I'll be fine," she says with somewhat less cheer than her usual standard. "People are heavy. That-" she waves a hand in the direction of the Firedancer lying in a consciousness-free heap near a bookshelf "-gave me a bit of a headache."

Sam nods. "I'll bet. That was a hell of a trick for a mortal."

Beat. "I assume you are mortal, right?" Buddha looks at him oddly. "Milliways," Sam explains briefly. "Long story."

"Yes, I'm mortal so far as I know. And thanks. I've been practicing."

The headache seems to be dissipating. Or perhaps she's just gotten better at ignoring it.

Sam shrugs easily. "Oh, well. Mortals in this world aren't usually capable of using that much magic so easily. And on that note, I think we'd better be getting back. We got off lucky that time, I think."

Oh, Sam. You should know better than to say such things.

One of the Firedancers- the one Sam only managed to kick- comes suddenly to life. Fire grows around his hands before flying towards them; Sam wards quickly to shield them but the creature in red only grabs several fat, ancient books from Buddha's unshielded desk before fleeing.

And meeting Buddha. Buddha with a blade and an expression that says, very clearly, 'DO NOT TOUCH MY DAMN BOOKS, KTHNX'.

"Want them? Have them," the Firedancer grunts, hurling two out of three books.

Buddha makes a noise that might have been a wail and throws himself to catch them before they hit the floor. This involves getting very effectively in Sam's way so that all his brother can do before the Firedancer is though the door and lost in the crowds outside is to tag the intruder with a tracer spell.

Sam and Buddha look hopelessly at each other. "Well, fuck."

"...That's unfortunate," Matilda says, gazing at the carnage and sighing.

Then she gives the pile of books her bag spat out at the beginning of this altercation a Look. The books pack themselves into her bag again, as does the scattered origami paper, sheet by sheet. Holding her head once more as the headache makes a comeback, she gives the room a grumpy look. "I really want to chase down the guy who stole your book and hit him with a nice big explosion, but my head hurts."

"Mmm," Sam agrees. "Come on, you, back to Milliways. Before something else happens. Buddha, I'll scry for you later or something."

His brother nods. "I'd better get this mess cleaned up. See if I can work out which book that Firedancer stole." He gives the dead and-or collapsed pile of remaining assassins a look which suggests their skins will shortly be becoming antique leathe book covers. "I'm sorry our meeting went so... messily, Matilda." He bows to the girl. "Perhaps some other time."

She nods. "Definitely. I've got a whole list of books to borrow from you after I'm done with these ones, for one." She gives Buddha a smile, then thinks of something. "Why'd you say his name was Basil at first?" she asks Sam curiously.

Sam grins, somewhat embarassedly. "Force of habit. It tends not to work out too well if we introduce ourselves as 'Lucifer and Buddha'. In my case in particular- for obvious reasons."

Buddha laughs. "Come see me again. Try not to bring Firedancers next time, though."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam's eyes grow faraway: the door to the shop lifts itself back up and reattaches itself. He shakes his head. "Anyway, come on. I need a drink."

Before he opens the door, he closes his eyes and concentrates for several heartbeats. The door opens on Milliways Bar.

"Benefits of prior experience of world travel, it seems. I'll explain later, brother. Bye!"

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