Madness: DxD

Misfilled Report

Somewhere in Santa Monica

The boardwalk creaked like it wanted to snap under every step. Smelled like burned sugar and seagull piss. Somewhere behind us, a teacher was trying to wrangle three students away from a churro cart like they were feral cats. I didn't envy them. I didn't envy anyone. That required emotions.

You still have some. I can help you get rid of them.

Xenovia: (smiles, looking out at the ocean) The water's... calmer than I expected.

Y/N: Looks calm until it pulls you under and you wash up in a fishing net in Tijuana.

Irina: (grinning, snapping a picture of a pelican) Why are you always this dramatic, Y/N?

Y/N: I'm only dramatic when surrounded by potential victims of poor life choices.

Asia: I-Is it safe here?

Y/N: Define safe.

She blinked.

Y/N: You'll be fine. The only real threat around here are drugged maniacs with guns. Lucky you the cops have more guns.

The cops are the maniacs with guns, darling.

Asia: (smiles nervously) That's... reassuring?

Y/N: I'll protect you if need be, so relax.

We passed a guy that was selling sunglasses from a cart. Irina was eyeing a pair with rhinestones shaped butterflies. I subtly shook my head at her. She pouted. She bought them anyway.

Issa: Hey. You ever ride that thing?

She pointed at the rickety rollercoaster.

Y/N: No. Never liked those things. Too much screaming. And it's not the good kind.

You'd love it if it derailed, though. Don't lie. You'd grin all the way down.

Asia: (softly) I like this place.

Y/N: You would. It's loud, colorful, and full of people trying to sell you stuff. You're exactly the kind of person they make postcards for.

Issa: You ever get tired of being this deadpan, or is that just your face?

How rude. It looks like I'm the only one who likes your face.

Y/N: I don't even know what deadpan means.

Issa: I'm surprised you don't. You always use fancy words.

Y/N: You'd be surprised how many times I had to change the way I speak.

We kept moving. The class was in clusters. Some students arguing over street tacos, others throwing quarters at a mechanical fortune seller. The teachers have given up somewhere around Venice beach. One of them looked like she was seriously considering retirement.

Xenovia: (eying the street performers ahead) You think any of them are possessed?

Y/N: No. They're just annoying.