D.ALL Chapter 12

“Yes, thank you,” Foxx said, and the attendant handed him his prize.

“By the way, the lock on that pirate game in the back is jank. Locked on us when we entered,” Free said.

“That’s weird, the manager had someone fix that a few days ago,” the attendant said.

“Must have been scammed,” Free shrugged.

“Ah—oh, and sorry if that ruined your time here.”

“Didn’t, had some serious fun—but we have to get going, peace,” Free pocketed the fan, and Foxx gave a bow farewell.

“Have a good day,” the attendant gave them an earnest but sleepy wave goodbye.

Foxx and Free left the arcade and went back to the entrance to see if Frost had gotten back yet. Frost hadn’t, so they found a bench and sat down.

Free took out the fan and examined it closely—It wasn't anything out of the ordinary to him, just a small fan with a spritzer. However, he did notice that its water tank was pre-filled, and its bottom glowed a faint blue.

He turned it on—angled away from him—and it did as expected. Yet, oddly, no matter how much mist it sprayed, the water inside did not decrease, only cycling from the fan head to the tank and back again.

“It makes water from the air?” Foxx pondered.

“Probably, then uses it to spin the fan’s motor,” Free scratched his head, “But then how can be it turned on and off?”

Foxx tilted his head.

“Unless this fan breaks the most common and basic law of energy, conservation—which is possible, maybe—just never seen it yet. The power coming from the cycle would have to be perpetually active, but in this case, it can be switched on and off,” Free wrote down on his notepad.

Foxx un-tilted his head and his ears perked up, “It needs an outer source to start.”

“Exactly—at least in theory, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Afterall, the best way figure something is to get your hands dirty—so, let’s crack this thing—”

Free felt something tug at his sleeve, looking over, he saw a Gilieot with large milky white eyes and soppy wet fur—she was wearing a t-shirt with thin furred wolf-like creatures on it howling at a moon.

“Excuse sir, c-can you h-help me?” She spoke with a whispery voice like she was on the brink of crying. “I-I’m lost, can you help me find my parents?”

“Can anyone keep track of their kids…” Free said under his breath.

“What?” The child’s tone changed to one of confusion for a moment, before quickly going back to near sobbing.

“Nothing, nothing—do you remember where you last saw them?”

The child wiped her eyes, “I t-think near the fountain.”

“What they look like?”

“My mum got e-eyes like me.”

Free stood up, “Alright, this won’t take long.”

The three walked over to the fountain, the child trailing slightly behind Foxx and Free. This part of the mall had thinned quite a bit, most shoppers now in the food court, the only person close to the fountain was a teenage Gilieot in a hoodie and glasses with a long leaf-coat that covered one eye.

“W-what's that you have in your hand, sir?” the milky-eyed child pointed at the fan.

“A fan,” Free replied.

“M-may I have a look at it?”

Free looked at Foxx then back at the child, “...No.”

“P-please!” she looked at Free with puppy eyes.

Free placed his hand on his hip and tapped his head with the fan, “Look kid, if you're trying to steal from me at least be original.”

“Huh—um,” she shifted around a bit.

“I’ve seen it all—but I can’t lie, you almost got me—”

The child kicked Free in the shin then pushed him into the fountain—Foxx catching him with his tail before he could touch the water, then trying to grab the fan—only to have the long leafed Gilieot jump up and catch it—landing to the side of the milky-eyed child.

“Bleh!” the milky-eyed child blew a raspberry, then she looked to the long-leafed child, “You got the goods, Poppy?”

The long-leafed child, Poppy, gave her a smirk, “Yeah, but let’s not forget to introduce ourselves before we book it!”

The milky eyed Gilieot stuck out her tongue and pulled her eyelid down mockingly, “Name’s Clary!”

“Name’s Poppy!”

“And you’ve been nicked by the Romp!” They shouted in unison.

Foxx sprinted towards them as they ran away, Clary taking the lead ahead of Poppy.

“You little shi—urgar honey ice teas!” Free regained his balance and ran after them as well.

Foxx jumped onto the side of an in-door tree, electricity flowing from his head to his tail—leaping off it, rocketing towards Poppy.

Poppy didn’t account for Foxx barreling towards him like a ballistic missile, but he quickly surmised that he wouldn’t be able to outrun him.

“Clary, see you on the other side,” Poppy yelled as he threw the fan to Clary, who caught it right before Foxx reached Poppy.

Clary was confused for a moment, but then seemed to get what he was saying, “Yeah, got it!” turning to the direction of the food court; Poppy did the same but instead to the hall behind it.

Foxx redirected himself, slowing down just before he hit a wall—then bouncing off, straight towards Clary—although slower this time, slow enough for Free to catch up, now flying beside him.

“They're planning something—I’m gonna keep watch of Poppy, you got Clary?” Free said.

“Yes,” Foxx replied.

“Good luck,” Free went after Poppy, who was also not expecting Free to grow wings and chase after him, looking horrified at the sight.

Foxx slowed himself down as he entered the food court, skittering across its marble floor—sliding below the crowd of people, all of which who were distracted by Clary leaping over the counter of a pretzel shop.

Foxx followed in hot pursuit—pouncing above the crowd and right onto the counter, just shy of catching Clary with his tail. After shortly but gentlemanly apologizing to the confused staff, he continued the chase—pursing Clary through the kitchen.

Clary threw pretzels and pans at Foxx to slow him down, but he caught each of them then gently placed them where they belonged while keeping up the pace.

Passing a sink, Clary spread open her webbed hand and siphoned water from it—forming a ball in her hand, before spraying the water across the floor behind her to slip Foxx. However, since Foxx slightly hovered above the ground, it had no effect.

“Ay, that’s cheating!” Clary drew water into her hand from another sink, but this time aimed it directly at Foxx—firing a beam of water.

Foxx paired the beam with his tail—it ricocheted to a hanging pan, causing it to make a loud TWANG right into Foxx’s ear, stunning him briefly.

“Hehe, can’t take a little ringing, huh?” Clary got an idea, collecting water into her hand then firing beams wildly into the hanging pots and pans—creating a cascade of horrid reverberating clashes and clanks that kept Foxx from moving forward.

Clary made it to the kitchen's back exit just as Foxx recovered, “This was fun but see you never!”

She cockily waved goodbye and opened the door to see Free standing on the other side with a disappointed and oddly uptight look on his face, tapping his foot.

“Maybe plan more than one exit—oh, and have a good plan in the first place, this was just predictable,” Free remarked.

“Oh yeah?” Clary sneered.

“Obviously, you were gonna swap with Poppy and give us the slip.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing, he left you for dead—ran the moment he saw me. No honor among thieves—”

“Clary, toss it!” Poppy yelled as he tugged on Free’s wing, not strong enough to pull him down but enough to distract him as Clary tossed the fan behind Free for Poppy to catch—but it was caught in midair, not by Free or Poppy—but by a sticky hand wielded by Foxx.

The fan stretched the hand almost to its breaking point then it rebounded back to Foxx, who then quickly dashed forward and got Poppy off Free.

Before Poppy and Clary could try anything else, Foxx and Free ran into the hall behind the shop. The two followed them but when Foxx and Free stopped, they had no way of approaching either to grab the fan, so they kept their distance.

Free transformed his wings back into hair, “That wasn’t even clever—just a cheap shot!”

“Don't need to be clever if you're that blind, oldie!” Poppy replied.

“Olide?” Free sounded more confused than offended, “Whatever, fun’s over—go home or anywhere other than within my line of sight.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clary wagged her finger, “The Romp never runs out of tricks!” She took a deep breath and swirled her finger in the air, water collecting around it and forming a blob at her fingertip. She pinched the blob, pulling it back like a slingshot—

“Poppy, Clary, stop embarrassing yourselves!” A familiar voice boomed from behind the two.

Free took his eye off the Romp, looking behind them to see it was the arcade attendant jogging toward them. Clary and Poppy immediately turned to face her.

“...H-hey, Sal,” Clary flicked the water away.

“Where are your parents? You said they came to pick you up,” Sal didn’t sound angry, more concerned.

“None of your business—stay out of this, you’re not the boss of us!” Poppy said.

Clary leaned closer to Poppy and whispered, “I-I think we shouldn't try to provoke her.”

Sal facepalmed then sighed, “They don’t know you’re here do they—how did you two even manage to get here without them?!”

“Confidential,” Poppy shook his head, ignoring Clary’s advice.

Sal sighed heavier, “I know you two are better than this—”

Suddenly, the sound of boots jogging across the floor reverberated from the food court.

“Darn it—Security,” Sal sighed somehow even heavier. “Just great—come on, fast,” she grabbed their hands.

“Y-you’re helping us?” Clary looked at Sal with big eyes.

“Yes, because your parents can’t afford the fines right now,” a slight tinge of frustration slipped into her tone. She looked at Foxx and Free, “You two come as well, I want to hear your side and I’m guessing you don't want to get fined either.”

“Read my mind—but, what about the cams?” Free said as him and Foxx followed Sal with Clary and Poppy in toe towards an employee exit.

“Broke five years ago, they only fixed the ‘ON’ light—cheapskates.”

“Figures.”

***

“Okay, let me get this right,” Sal leaned against her car, staring daggers at Poppy and Clary. “You two—for ‘no reason,’ tried to steal a fan from these two, which you could have just asked me for. Attacking them and causing who knows how much in damages—probably effectively banning yourselves from the mall.”

“Y-yes—but please don’t tell our parents,” Clary pleaded. “Everything turned out fine in the e-end, right?”

Sal said nothing back.

“We’re good friends with your sister—If w-we’re grounded we won’t be able to hang out, we have a l-lot of things planned already—especially during the festival, we’re really excited!”

Sal took out a flip phone, “That is between you and your parents, but… apologize to those two and I’ll consider convincing them not to—just for the festival.”

Poppy spoke up, “This is lame—”

Clary lightly smacked Poppy’s noggin then whispered, “Just say it.”

“We’re sorry…” they said in unison.

“Ok,” Foxx said plainly.

Free was about to say something snarky, then hesitated—thinking about the fact he was nearly short circuited, and successfully surprise attacked twice by children, “You know what, water under the bridge—let's forget this happened.”

Sal finished texting Poppy and Clary’s parents then looked at them, “Your parents will be here soon, you’ll be staying in my car while we wait.”

“But we’ll melt!” Poppy protested.

“The AC’s on and there’s some water in the trunk cooler if you get thirsty—now, get in,” Sal ordered, the two quickly hopped in.

Just out of the corner of Free’s eye he could see the Camper pulling into the parking lot, “Welp, we have to get going, thanks for resolving that mess.”

“Hold on, you two are looking for energy, right?” Sal asked.

“...How do you know?” Free looked at her with suspicion.

“Earlier, back at the arcade, you said something about it.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, I was wondering if you two would be willing to help with some festival preparations, in exchange for being able to use the outlets at my town’s art center.”

“What type of help?”

“Mostly small things, carrying supplies and stuff like that.”

“Alright, two questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“One, how long are we helping, and two, can you throw a microwave into the deal?”

“Two days, since that’s how long until the festival begins by the time you arrive. Concerning the microwave, will a half-working one do?”

“Sure, that’ll work. Though, I need to ask Frost first before I can accept.”

“Frost?”

“Person I travel with—Oh yeah, didn’t introduce myself, the name’s Free the Self-made Machine,” Free gestured towards Foxx, “And that's Foxx.”

“Nice to meet you Foxx and Free, my name’s Sal,” she smiled with her words.

“Likewise, also, can I get directions to your town?”

“Of course, it's a place by the name of Lilipass, the fastest way to it is by taking highway M-33 but there are a few scenic paths you can take if you prefer…”

Sal explained how to get to Lilipass, Free writing it all down on his notepad before him and Foxx said goodbye and walked to the Camper.

Free knocked on the door, “Yo Frost, we’re here.”

The door opened and behind it was a not-so-hot—or rather, not-so-cold looking Frost. Steam expelled from their jacket as they panted rapidly, the inside of the Camper looking like a steam engine had gone off.

“Frost… You good?” Free asked as he slowly entered the Camper, waving away the clouds of steam.

“Mm-hmm,” Frost lied.

Free tossed the fan onto them, “Here, this should help—also, good news, we got a job offer.”

Frost immediately turned it on and pointed it at themself, “What is the job?”

“Basically, we gotta be gofers, helping with preparations for a festival in exchange for power.”

“...Only that?”

“And a microwave, nearly forgot I managed to bargain that in.”

“Humph.”

“So, are we taking the job, or did you find any better leads while you were out?”

“I did not.”

“Then its settled, we’re heading to Lilipass,” Free handed Frost the directions as he sat down.

Frost briefly glanced over them, “At least we will not have to take a highway.”

“Can’t we just fly over anyway?”

“No, the fuel prices here are abysmal,” Frost said firmly. “A full tank costs half of our budget.”

Free sighed, “I’m going to guess that our scrap wasn’t worth much this time?”

“Yep.”

Free kicked back in his chair, “You think we have enough in the budget to go buy some ice?”

“Why?”

“Can’t have you leaking coolant again, and clearly a little shade isn’t enough to prevent overheating—so, I think I have a solution.”

“What is it?”

“Just trust me, you’ll like it.”

“…Fine.”