The Basil Children

Chapter Seven

"WAKE UP YEH LAZY BONES!" Tess screamed down the hallway in the direction of the Children's bedrooms.

James was the first one awake, pulling his jeans up hurriedly as he ran down the hall, as if there was an emergency.

Paris stumbled groggily out of her room, rubbing her eyelids, still in a pair of drawstring sweatpants.

"What... The... HELL!" She hollered at Tess's retreating back. "It's seven-thirty in the morning!"

"Actually, it's seven-thirty-six right now." Candace sang, coming out of her bedroom, properly clothed, with her hair done nicely in a braid down the back of her neck.

"Piss... OFF!" Paris rounded on her.

"What's all this about?" Delilah asked, walking plainly out of her door.

"Badass here isn't a morning person." Tess answered, gesturing at Paris.

"SCREW YOU GUYS." Paris said. She ran back into her room and flopped on her bed, knocking pillows to the ground.

"Nope. Come on, Grumpy. We really need to train." Tess said to Paris's feet.

Groaning, Paris stood up and walked out of her door.

"I still hate you." She said to the group.

---

When Art and Winston had been shaken awake and Paris was dressed, Tess led the Basil Children to the kitchen, where four boxes of glazed donuts sat waiting for them.

All seven angels gorged themselves on the pastries, licking the remaining glaze off of their fingers when they finished.

"Today, I'm going to teach you some fistfighting tricks you might want to use against Kesair's army. It's all going to be basics for now, so don't worry," Tess smirked. "Follow me."

The Basil Children marched behind her to a door at the very end of the hallway. When Tess swung the door open, the angels gawked at the room.

Padding covered the floor, and punching bags hung from the railings of a steel observation deck of sorts, lining all four walls.

"This room changes for what you want to practice. However, today is an instruction day, so I choose what the room looks like." Tess spoke, her voice echoing with the emptiness of the training center.

Winston walked straight into the room, holding Delilah's hand. He stopped in front of Tess with a stern look on his face.

"We aren't fighting each other... Right?" Winston asked nervously.

"Nope. Take your anger out on the punching bags for now." Tess smirked.

Each of the Children hopped off to their own bag, fists raised. Tess went to the center of the room, where a bag suddenly appeared out of thin air.

"Telepathic field," Tess answered. "The first thing you're going to learn is how to really deliver pain with a single punch."

When she had explained it to a gory extent with lots of visuals, Tess told the Children to hit the bag as hard as they could, the way she taught them.

Candace resented Tess for making them inflict agony on any being, divine or otherwise, and she refused to come anywhere near her swinging punching target at first, no matter how much James was teasing her.

Tess had been walking around to each station, automatically critiquing her students against her will. Tess loathed her superior role, all she wanted was to be "one of the gals".

"You're rather bony to be in combat," Tess said to Delilah, surprised the Angels wanted her to say that. Delilah looked at her feet. She was rather self-conscious about her weak and frail frame, after seeing the strength of Tess, Paris, and Candace.

"I am sorry. I have no verbal filter, the Angels sometimes have full control of what I say." Tess was surprised that she was confessing to this girl. "I hate it."

Delilah looked up, her green eyes soft with sympathy. "You can show a little defiance, and ignore them once in awhile. I wouldn't mind hearing from the real Tess."

The girl nodded in thanks, and took a risk. The Angels backed off, getting the message, and Tess felt better about this whole leadership thing.

Tess walked over to Winston's station right next to Delilah's and watched him. Winston seemed to really understand how to murder a foam-filled bag, so Tess moved to Paris.

She was grimacing at the punching bag like it owed her something. Maybe it did. Paris kept punching the shit out of the bag, but incorrectly. The Angels wanted her to interfere, teach her the correct way to do things.

So Tess unwillingly stalked towards Paris's back and her calloused hands held a firm grip on her waist. She paused beating up the foam, startled.

"You're not doing that right..." Tess whispered in her ear.

"What the hell are you doing, Tess?" Paris asked awkwardly.

"I need to teach you how to bash some bastard's head in correctly, Paris. Tsk tsk." She replied.

The Angels were being complete and total dicks.

Tess wrapped her slender fingers around Paris's wrists and directed them at the punching bag. Paris smelt fantastic, like honeysuckle in a field of lilies.

She used her fists to show her how it was really done, and when she released her, Paris realized how wonderful Tess of all people smelt. Peppermint. Peppermint and dark chocolate. Like if December was a person.

Paris smiled snarkily and mocked Tess slightly, even if she was grateful she helped her out.

---

All day the Children spent mugging foam bags, and when the sun began to set on just another Tuesday, their knuckles were bleeding, drops of green coming from their hands.

Tess led them to the infirmary to patch up their fists, dripping with green ooze.

"So... Were those punching bags heavenly?" Candace asked, wincing.

"No shit, Sherlock. Your hands are bleeding right? Anything that comes from that telepathic link is heavenly." Tess answered her, her sneer becoming apparent with her personality.

Delilah sulked in a corner, massaging her knuckles. She simply watched as the group squabbled over bandages. Winston soon came up to her, clutching a roll of gauze in one fist and tape in the other.

"Del, you really ought to clean those up," He said, gesturing to her hands. "Tess says we're going to get back to the bags tomorrow."

"Alright." She replied, not wanting to start an argument.

Winston smiled at her as he wrapped the gauze over her hands. When he finished, Winston kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Be more careful tomorrow, okay?" He said softly.

"Alright." Delilah repeated.

Winston smiled again and walked back to the crowd of green haired weirdos scrounging for band-aids. Delilah had a feeling she was going to love this group of people.