Boxed Convict Breakout

The Magician Arc

The Magician twirled her hat around in her hands, idly watching the events occurring. She wished she had better company, but a girl had to make do with what was available.

Trickery was her specialty, but even trickery had limits. The further away someone was from her, the harder it would be to use her power on them. There were other limitations, too. If she wanted to do something serious, like talk in someone's mind, fill their head with doubt, or directly manipulate their emotions, she needed something that belonged to her victim.

She looked at the hair in her fingers. It was badly dyed, but silky smooth.

How fortunate that some people are very gullible.

It never hurt to have a backup plan.

*            *            *

The trio of Magical Girls; Hearts, Diamonds, and Rook, left the school. They’d got one of their questions answered, but they still needed to know more. They still needed to have proof that they were innocent to demonstrate to their hunters. And they were lacking that.

“If only we knew why this group are so against us!” Kurin moaned as they stepped out into the night time streets, dodging around the school security officer like it was no major deal.
“We know nothing about them. We’ve only met the one, right? Starplus. Bishop said that there were two others. Constellation and Sleepy Angel.” She sighs, irritatedly.
“Then we need to find out about them.” Rook replies, folding her arms. She and Anya had dropped form, and now the three looked like a group of normal girls wandering around the town.

“But how? All we know is that they arrived in town at some point! It’s not like we can read minds or something to figure out when and why, or follow them.” Kurin points out. Rook stops, a complicated expression running over her features.

“..Maybe…” She mumbles, looking away. Kurin looks surprised at her response.
“Don’t tell me you know a telepath!” She says. Rook shakes her head, sadly.
“No. Telepathic Resonances are rare, and always promoted to senior management once discovered. But we may have access to the next best thing… in relative terms.”

*            *            *

The van moved at speed, but never breaking the law. The driver was too good for that. It looked like a builder’s private vehicle, small and unnoticeable in the city’s streets.

As it turned down an alley, a middle school girl ran in front, standing directly in the path and staring at it. The driver hit the breaks hard in a blind panic, barely managing to stop. Right before the car hit the girl, a Magical Girl in red and white jumped from a nearby rooftop and pulled her from the street. The driver was about to breathe a sigh of relief when there was a knock on the window. He turned to face it, unconsciously rolling the window down to explain what had happened when Rook’s fist connected with his face.

The punch wouldn’t kill the driver, because he wasn’t actually alive in the first place. His form crumpled as he slumped forward, and his body transformed into a clay statue in a driver’s outfit. A golem, a type of magical construct built out of clay and given specific instructions. They were usually used to transport low-priority materials around for the Magical Realm.

Stepping back, Rook nodded at Anya and Kurin, and moved to the back of the van.

Ω Magical Girl EMP-Ire Ω

So, it’s like this, right?

I was sitting there, minding my own business in a prison car like every other week, then wham! Suddenly everything shifts. I find my head slamming hard into the floor of the car, then someone opens the back door and pulls me out! I can’t be blamed for that, right? I mean, it’s not a jailbreak if it’s against my will. That’s more of a kidnapping.

Anyway, things move pretty fast, the person who sought to take me unties the magical ropes binding my hands and ankles together, and as they open their mouth to speak, I’ve already slammed my forehead into their jaw and taken off running.

Things didn’t exactly work out how I planned, though, as about halfway across the street, when I was ready to jump up a wall and get to safety, a foot just, like, stuck out of a nearby trashcan and tripped me up. Totally un-cool. The foot, not my fall. I managed to make falling look pretty good, until I broke my nose on the pavement.

Annnd now I have Rook, the most humorless ass in the entire Inspection Bureau, standing over me with a face like she bit a wasp. What’s even the deal with that?
“You’d be pretty if you weren’t an asshole.” I mock her, and she brings a hand up to whack the top of my head.

“Ow! Geeze! It’s a joke!” I rub the top of my head and pout.
“Don’t you have a sense of humor?”
“No.” Comes her curt reply. VERY un-cute. I sigh, mentally upgrading the earlier simile to a full mouthful of wasps, and get to my feet.
“What do I owe this little jailbreak for? Inspection department need a specialist to take that stick outta your ass-” I get another hit on the head and whine.
“Fine, fine, I get it! No jokes!” I rub my head.

“Aren’t you like a wanted criminal? Doing creepy crap with corpses, right?” I ask her, she purses her lips.
“How do you know about that?”
“Word travels fast in jail. Not that I’m complaining about the breakout, though.” The other one present is a Magical Girl in red with haunting eyes. They’d be pretty if she’d just blink. It’s just the three of us here, not counting the groaning driver, but…

“I thought there was another of you.”
“She’s not here.” Rook replies, instantly, rehearsed.
“Awh. She ditch your butt? I heard a rumor that Bishie’s gonna sell you out to get away with her cri- OW!” I swear in a rage as Rook whacks my head again.
“We need your help.” Rook says, once the pain is gone. I gotta learn to bite my tongue if I wanna use this situation.
“Oh yeah? I ain’t a necrophilly-whatever.” Rook raises her hand to hit me again, but the one in red tugs at her sleeve and she doesn’t. Like good cop, bad cop. Or like… stick-up-the-ass-cop, creepy-stare-cop.
“We need you to track someone down, using the city’s cameras.” Rook explains through gritted teeth.
“And what do I get in return?” I eye her suspiciously.
“...We’ll give you a day headstart before chasing you down again.” Rook looks down at me.
“A day headstart, and I get a favor.” I try to negotiate upwards. Rook gives a sullen nod, damn she really must be in trouble. One last upgrade to a whole buffet of wasps. I get up onto my feet, and offer a hand.
“Shake on it?” She grabs my hand in response and squeezes it. I respond with a small smirk, and she yelps in pain from the sudden electro-shock I send her way.

*             *            *

From what Rook says, Constellation, Starplus, and a gal called Sleepy Angel had arrived in the city the previous day. That group had apparently been the ones to declare the four chicks public enemies, and they needed to know why.That Starplus chick had apparently gotten into a fight with the girl in red- Tama, apparently- at the old construction yard, but that couldn’t be the whole story. Rook said we should start at that point, and see what we can discover from there.

“Follow where she goes” was the order, and so I did. We travelled spot to spot, chasing after the blur on a motorbike. We’d stop at a random CCTV camera, I’d look into its memory with a gentle caress, and direct us to the next one. It took a while, but we eventually found a rooftop where the three of Constellation had met.

“Damn! What’d you do to the night-time girl?” I ask, looking at the bruised body through the camera’s impartial lens.
“Night time girl?” Rook replies, puzzled.
“She says you beat her up! Looks like it, too.” I look over at Rook, who stares at me with determination.
“Follow her trail. Find out where she got attacked. Maybe that will be our clue.”

That was another hour, following her progress through the city, but at least she was easier to spot than the motorcycle blur. Working backwards, we find our way through the city streets and into one of the hotel districts, seedy but dirty. And that’s when, in a store camera that coincidentally overlooks an alley, we find the last piece of the puzzle.
“...Got it.” I say, quietly, watching the footage through once. It makes me feel sick, I don’t like fighting at the best of times, and this was brutal.
“What is it?” Rook asks.
“...It’s not good.”
“Tell me.”
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“I promise.” Rook says, glaring.
I told her. She got mad.