This is, er, was, a drabble that got bigger that got out of hand. Or maybe a few singly ideas I figured wouldn't make sense on their own. Some concepts inspired by other fans, but mostly blame me. Otherwise entirely my own flavor of AU, so hopefully youâve been following my tumblr. OG inspiration from the manga/myus in Broad Strokesâą. Includes the Mentor Pluto POD and n-b Mamoru (they pronouns).
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Almost an hour in a makeshift local dance club that was only steps away from being an abandoned factory with bad lighting could do that. The press of bodies and smell of⊠well, also bodies, made for an introvertâs nightmare. Out of habit, they retired to the bathroom and, because Mamoru was an introvert of particular skills, out the window to the low end of the roof for a breather. While a friendly calico that stopped its journey along the roofs and allowed itself to be petted gave Mamoru some comfort from the headache-inducing muffled thump of music thru the brick walls, they were still pensive. Tenoh hadnât been there, despite Minakoâs hunch.
The cloudy afternoon sunk into an early evening as the rain started. Mamoru risked transforming in a nook behind the wall for lack of an umbrella and patience. It was as easy as pulling down the tall hat, even if the rain dripped over onto their shoulders. The suit never soaked and in a pinch was always comfortable, with none of the tightness and sensitivity to water youâd expect from a real tuxedo. Mamoru couldnât remember the last time it had needed mending. They rubbed the fabric between their fingers, realizing you could barely see the seams anymore. There was something oddly.. organic about it. That was strange when Mamoru thought about it, as they were sure it had been an uncommonly good suit with lovely if tight shoes bought from a pawn shop at a bargain a year ago. Then it had gone missing during the busy times of⊠well, busy times, and now they could sort of⊠call on it. Certainly Usagi and the others were the same, but those had apparently always been their uniforms. Asking Setsuna about it had just produced a long complicated string of speculation Mamoru couldnât follow. Maybe magic was something a thing could acquire, they thought.
That sort of speculation gave them a headache. A small bag of imported coffee with organic veggie omelets was already pushing its way to the head of Mamoruâs plans for an early night-in when the backdoor of the club swung out just enough to let out the shape of a loudly dressed young man, muttering to himself. Anyone else would have pegged them for a boy escaping a date gone south, but there was something in the voice and the look that made the clouds in Mamoruâs mind shift into the familiar feeling of someone using disguise magic. They recalled one of Minakoâs more ridiculous personas, neon shirts and ugly shades, but this face seemed unusually serious and determined. Mamoru found themselves following behind in the shadows without thinking. Why hadnât Minako said anything about coming herself?
Not that it was a habit of hers. Mamoru had been keenly aware the events of a strange life had left them in a precarious position with the other senshi, one everyone seemed to roll with rather than talk about much, at least when Mamoru was around. They were in the same boat after all, so to speak, and it paid to work together. Mamoru assumed that had been the unspoken agreement. Things had started pretty rough, and sometimes they worried it was but for the good graces of Setsuna and Usagi insisting that had kept things civil. The business with Fiore had even helped, in a fashion, to bring the senshi together.
Then Setsuna had mysteriously gone, and there were these new soldiers, and everything had been played fast and lose since then. Minako went on about duty and caution, and how the ârealâ guardians needed to pull together. Mamoru had suddenly been included in 'weâ, which was quite a nice feeling. It was almost official. Venus â Minako, that is â would even ask them about things, or advice, and similar. And since Mamoru seemed to have a kind of understanding with these new outsiders, or at least they acted like they did, if Tuxedo Mask could keep an eye on them without Usagi knowing. Sheâd only worry of course. So it wasnât a bit like spying.
Mamoru sighed. It was exactly like spying. It made sense, tactically, although they had their doubts. Uranus had merely seemed full of bluster, but always stopping short of actually doing any harm. Neptune, at least as Michiru, could even be helpful, but she was also poker-faced, non-committal, standoffish, and a little weird. Yet Mamoruâs own glass house was too well-furnished to throw particularly large stones at anyone else; if they had the nerve, they would point out it was not much stranger than the early career of Tuxedo Mask or Sailor VâŠ
Mamoru almost didnât notice Minako slow down for a moment before speeding up considerably, the iridescent shine of the disguise sloughing off and the normal transformation washing over her mid-run. Mamoru had even felt it this time, momentarily pleased Reiâs lessons seemed to be working. But even with improved stamina, they were finding it hard to keep pace now.Not Venus, Mamoru thought, Sailor V. Tuxedo Maskâs experiences with V had been filled with more bruises than fond memories to be nostalgic for it, but they wondered why. Minako never used that unless she didnât want to be recognizedâŠ
And then there was the buzz of their communicator, and Amiâs tinny voice about how there had been a daemon, but Usagi was okay, and by the way had Mamoru seen Minako, she hadnât answered for hoursâŠ
Tuxedo Mask sped up a bit more.
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Minako could be angry about a lot of things in ways Rei and Makoto couldnât be without everyone knowing about it. She always had a special place deep in the pit of nowhere in particular to put them until she could handle them. But the problem with that sort of space is adding anything to it means you rub up against the other things you already put there, rolling and awkwardly jostling for your attention.
Minako had not been annoyed about being Venus. Not especially. A few weeks of lonely nights as a solider kept nostalgia from leaking in. She wasnât a decoy now, at least. And even if she was another cog in a machine, she was the leader, right? Setsuna was always very respectful, when it came to it.
Then all the business with Endymion. Which had worked out, in the absolute most convoluted way It could. And Minako realized , in the aftermath, the others had decided what to do. Her job had simply been to deal with it. Thatâs what the leader did. Minako had to deal with the alien nearly killing Usagi that one time. It had been no oneâs fault, not really, her patient mind had kept telling herself. Then Setsuna had to leave, apparently without telling anyone. Obviously for a good reason, if sheâd bothered to say anything. And Minako had to deal with that. Minako was quickly suspecting the only thing a person with a heavy sack got was a bigger sack.
The new soldiers were another thing to deal with. Brash, rude, and didnât know their place. What was Setsuna doing, if she couldnât rein them in? Rei ended up falling out with an old friend, Ami had into a surprising passive-aggressive match that would impress Minakoâs own mother, the usually obliging Makoto had the kind of strong words with Haruka you got before someone had to re-patch the drywall and UsagiâŠ
Well, they had been just weird about Usagi. And Endyâ Mamoru. Minako couldnât understand why. It was just another thing to deal with. Minako was tired of Sailor Venus needing to deal with everything. So she reached down and decided Sailor V was going to deal with this.
Sailor V hadnât been the only thing buried.
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Tuxedo Mask lurked in the shadows, a well-honed skill of theirs. The real trick was to deliberately showboat just to get people to notice you. Not like the other Guardians â the Sailor Senshi proper. Certainly not like Sailor V at the moment, who despite a calm face under her reflective mask seemed literally incandescent as she approached the two figures on the edge of the park. Uranus and Neptune were there, leaning on each other. Presumably there had been a fight; the acrid dusty smell the senshi were beginning to associate with daemons being blown apart hung in the air. Both looked rather wobbly. Uranus was frowning and defiant, contriving to look as if she hadnât been bracing herself on a bench for support. Neptune looked sleepy and as if sheâd drunk too much. Or maybe not enough.
There was banter, thought Tuxedo Mask, always a good sign. But Venus and Uranus seemed to share the vice of finding each otherâs bait irresistible, and the playful words became too couched in spite for playfulness. Neither was backing down. Apparently, Usagi had been caught between them and a daemon, and they obviously couldnât be responsible if other senshi tried to stick their noses in business that wasnât theirsâŠ
Much in the way Mamoru had noticed a fat cat napping in the shadeâs demeanor changes when it eyes something furry and scuttling out of the corner of its eye, there was something about Minako that was bothersome. She was sliding out of the playful tone until she suddenly slid back. And it was⊠wrong. Even Uranus and Neptune had paused in confusion. It was Venus. Not Minako-as-Venus, or even Sailor Venus. But Venus From Before. Commander. Tuxedo Mask couldnât explain why, but like the growl in the branches a monkey hears that subtly lets it know midnight pear hunting that night was going to be a bad idea, every instinct was for them to get away as soon as possible.
Tuxedo Mask shook the chill from their shoulders. Venus did seem calmer now after all. She seemed amused, talking about soldiers and orders and everyone doing their duty, which all sounded very responsible. Werenât their other selves more mature, more in control? Miâ Neptune seemed good at placating tense situations too, and Mamoru trusted in the good sense of heroes with ultimately mutual goals.
What actually happened, was Neptune being hit square in the chest by the thick knobbed end of Venusâs chain and pulling Uranus along with her awkwardly to the ground.
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Prudence had beat out etiquette, with the Commander using the excuse of helping Kunzite guide a queasy Zoicite away from the buffet, having lost a battle with some under-cooked prawns at the exceedingly boring after-party. Sheâd been sitting on the marble steps just behind the pavilion to wait for a ride and enjoy the cool air. Venusâs small rant about the kingdomâs inability to properly cook seafood had only earned her and a rather heavy bag of pilfered hors d'oeuvres a questioning look from her companion, but Venus had dismissed this as simple appreciation of the cook. One shouldnât judge the customs of other kingdoms when free food is involved, after all.
Especially since Venus hadnât enjoyed the banquet very much. She certainly hadnât been expecting to eat crow. The Commander wondered if she had done something to anger Serenity lately, though she supposed it had made sense at the time. The banquet had been a political and military matter, and Venus was the leader. As the other guardians collectively knew Venus thought the assembly of four Beryl insisted on having as guards couldnât find their own asses with an atlas, sheâd been sent an actual diplomat to accompany her. On the off-chance anyone would have considered bringing Mars along, she had refused. Venus was almost sure the uncommonly good wine served during the party had been from the barrel of the expensive peacemaker she herself sent months ago after Jedite and Mars had a friendly bout ending with some nasty uttered words and an 'accidentallyâ broken nose. That would be Kunziteâs sort of joke, certainly.
Nephrite and Jedite had been at the ceremony too, though the later avoided Venusâs gaze, droning on about the events at large in the kingdom, and other things Venus would have paid love and money to skip. She had passed the time entertaining thoughts of how a long sweep of her chain on full blast could have solved quite a lot of political issues at once â but that wasnât the sort of thought a leader could have. Nephriteâs sonorous reciting was better than Jediteâs wheedling tone, but they were broadly correct as far as events went. A mad sorceress has been terrorizing both kingdoms and had been finally caught due to the heroics of the four guards and the help of the senshi, how it was a sign of the two kingdoms finally reconciling, and how this new treaty would benefit both of them, and so on and so onâŠ
In the bad old days when both kingdoms didnât even bother to conceal the sparkle of the daggers they were trying to stab each other with, Venus would written off this sorceress, this Zirconia, as some be just another attack dog of Berylâs trained up in secret and sicced on her enemies, with all the accompanying feigned shock from the Golden Kingdom that plausibly deniability could afford. Then again, Zirconia had cut a swath thru both kingdoms, and Beryl didnât seem the type to be that desperate to cut of her own nose just to make the guardians look bad. At least, not lately. But the Guardians had been caught with their skirts down, as it were, and the queen had been positively jolly with smugness. Serenity had not been much help, as a rumor Zirconia was the bastard of some prominent figure in the kingdom had put a cap on any public talk that could have clarified the situation. Beryl probably knew that too.
âWhat did you think of that quiet boy hanging next to the queen?â Venus mumbled thru a mouthful of something starchy and unnaturally green. âEither sheâs gotten a new butler or jesters have suddenly become a lot more fashionable lately.â
Venusâ companion looked over at her. She was everything Venus wasnât: dark, quiet, calm, mild-mannered, and concealed. Serenity had vouched that Garnet â which Venus was certain was not actually her name, inasmuch as she could find anything about her in the records â had done business between the kingdoms for a while and knew more of the local customs and higher-ups than Venus did, so it made sense to bring her. Beryl and the high priest had certainly recognized her, though Venus couldnât shake the feeling there had been some falling out that only the Queenâs unusually good humor lately had overridden.
âEndymion? Likely a minor relative of the royal family.â
Venus gave Garnet a look that lasted a second too long. â 'Princeâ? Never heard of them. Doesnât seem like Beryl to start finding new relatives after jockeying herself into being queen.â
ââŠPossibly elevated to keep a rival closer?â Garnet offered.
Venus sighed. It paid to listen to what Garnet wouldnât say as much as what she would. âI donât need a team of mystics in spooky hoods with dripping candles and too much geometry scratched on the walls to know my business. It was practically in the handshake.â Well, no, it wasnât, she corrected herself. More like a feeling in her gut. To hisâ her? It was hard to tell â credit, he didnât seem surprised or curious about it. But she was sure they had felt something. âI know a Guardian when I see one, Miss Garnet,â Venus added meaningfully, waving a toothpick for emphasis.
Garnet sighed. âQueen Beryl has never been cooperative on that front. Endymion donât seem to be dangerous, if thatâs any help. Certainly not a soldier.â
âYouâd be surprised what a scout can get up to. But better to have a dog ready to bark in your yard than shitting on your lawn at midnight, eh?â Venus smiled as Garnet started in polite incomprehension. ââŠFamous adage back home. Doesnât translate well I guess.â
âOn that note,â Garnet began, somewhat uncomfortably, âThe security issues have left Serenity with some concerns. Sheâs thinking of activating the auxiliary crew.â She caught Venusâs already annoyed look curdling to sour. âJust as a precaution. Youâve met the candidates before. She thinks theyâll be a valuable addition.â
Venus frowned. âYeah a flouncy aristocrat and a bag of knees. As if I donât have enough on my plate,â she muttered through a new mouthful of meat paste and crackers. She caught Garnetâs informative stare again. âNot my business, eh? Weâre going all secret police on this? Seems a lot for one slip up with a kingdom weâre apparently not fighting with anymore.â
âSomewhat off the books, yes,â explained Garnet. âSerenity has asked me to.. chaperon, you could say.â
âI must say youâre doing exceeding well in your career lately, Miss Garnet,â said Venus, chewing a toothpick at her thru a brittle smile.
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Tuxedo Mask fidgeted with the familiar baton suddenly in their hand, thinking they could probably get to the fight in enough time to help out. Thoughts were suddenly at war with exactly who need the helping: Venus, the others, or themselves if they tried to get between either of them. An insistent but more treacherous thought indicated they could use that time to get twice as far away. Meanwhile, the purely academic part of Tuxedo Maskâs mind observed how Neptune and Uranus moved, a habit gained from watching the other senshi on the sidelines. They had to admit the two complimented each other well; Neptuneâs long patient motions protected by Uranusâs tendency to get in her opponents face and buy her time, and how Uranus knew when to move away and allow her partner a prepared shot.
Venus wasnât having any of it though. It wasnât just agility, not just rage letting her take the hit of an elbow or dodge a leg sweep but her chain doing a wild dance around her and sending puddles of water in steaming streaks. Not a slow careful ribbon-dance, but a wild hyperactive swing of shape-changing molten metal, at first like string in the wind to a glassblower with hiccups to a drop of ink in a glass of dark water. Neither could get close, and every thin shot was more than likely to come back as a thick lump that caught them on the swing-back like â well, letâs face it â a morning star, bright enough to be blinding in the dimming twilight before sending Neptune or Uranus back to catch their breath. But the wild wiry skittering of the chain technique was working, frustrating Uranusâs forward momentum and not leaving Neptune a peaceful moment to charge. It was like trying to kick a tankful of jellyfish, biting at their legs and arms even at a distance.
Venus was taunting them, thought Tuxedo Mask, not sure whether that worse than merely attacking them.
A surprisingly effective leap of faith had Neptuneâs arm finally holding Venusâs, unsettling the chain dance as Uranus got to her feet. The calm second was broken by hand and chain slipping around and grabbing Neptuneâs upper arm, squeezing a rather uncharacteristic squeal out of her before swinging her into Uranus again, who caught and steadied her with one arm. Tuxedo Maskâs heart sank. Had they mentioned Michiruâs old injury to Minako?
Now there was a sword in Uranusâs hand. Mamoruâs limited experiences with swords lead them to believe they werenât always as useful as you thought, but when you had one in your hand you were generally thinking of a few options. Heroics overruled caution and they started running, and had made it halfway before there was a flash and⊠suddenly the Commanderâs sword was there, the sheer weight and inertia of the broadsword knocking Harukaâs slim feisty weapon out of her hand, which Uranus had preferred over a broken wrist. Yet Neptune and Uranus didnât move. Venus hadnât even pointed her weapon at them. It had just⊠happened, and now Venus was simply quietly attentive, picking up the strange sword in one hand curiously, even as her own cuts and bruises swelled and bled thinly as the rainwater washed over them. With some horror, both had realized how Venusâs defense had been so effective; she hadnât bothered to dodge her own attacks. Venus ran her finger along the handle and side of the blade, her own charged power making sharp pings along the wet metal, like some small animal squeaking to get away. She stared at the two figures in front of her, as if seeing them for the first time, before setting her thumb against the side of the sword and pushing hard, a slow drawn out bending and sparking asâ
Suddenly there was a boom. Or perhaps the opposite of a boom, a sudden filling of space in the way of sound. A stern voice of command from a usually quiet voice bypassing your ears and aimed directly inside your skull, telling you to stop in every language it could think of. Even Tuxedo Mask, suddenly back in the shadows and too far to hear clearly, recognized that sound
Angry as she was, Pluto handât even bother to explain where she had come from, merely retaining the same quiet, patient, tone everyone knew her for, spending a full half minute talking Venus down from what she claimed to understand as insubordination, and wasnât Plutoâs new look as a senshi wonderful, even if she didnât keep her new friends on a tighter leash. And further chit-chat that it might be a good idea to tell them about the arrangement Pluto had told Venus and the others ages before, and that anyone putting the Princess in danger would find their lives full of incident.
Yet the banter was working. Venusâs sword slipped back to the miasma of gold it had come from, and the slight slump of shoulders and slide back into a cruder, sarcastic tone that signaled Minako was chiding her old chum Setsuna. Uranus had taken back the offered sword, lingering a bit too long before Pluto placed a comforting but instructive hand on her shoulder to lead her away. To her credit, of the three, Neptune didnât look back. She had her pride, even if she suffered to be led away by the tall woman.
Sailor V wobbled to a bench, letting the rain steam off of her under a streetlight for minutes as she came down from⊠well, whatever had happened. Mamoru was cursing inaction, though not too strongly, and deciding how to handle this whole business when Minako gave a stream of ugly coughs, picked herself up, and made her way back home. Tied as she was, she didnât drop her transformation. It did wonders for healing, and a bit of gauze and some iodine before bedtime would finish the rest.
It would be ironic to anyone normally catching Mamoru in full bewildering speech mode that Tuxedo Mask as a rule did not make any noise when they moved, and they were polite enough to make a loud scrapping stumble as they slid up to Minako, full of concern.
Tuxedo Mask resisted leaning back as she turned to stare, before she settled and fell into step; they couldnât see Minakoâs eyes behind the V mask, just the glare of streetlights reflected off of them. Maybe that was for the best. She recounted events in a creatively edited fashion while Mamoru feigned ignorance, sometimes pausing as if both were challenging each other to call the other one out. Or maybe Mamoru was being paranoid.
âI canât believe those two would put Usagi in danger like that,â Mamoru said, carefully.
If Minako heard that sentence differently in her head, she didnât say so, and sighed. âCanât be everywhere, I guess. But things are settled for now, maybe.â
Who couldnât be everywhere?, Mamoru wondered.
