The trio sat there, idly perusing their menus and engaging in pointless conversation as they waited for their waitress to come and take their orders. Their conversation ranged from changes in fashions for those Spliced, – in which Setsuna became quite animated in the opinion of the only major changes being the addition of cut-aways and Velcro flaps for wings, tails and so on, - to sports for Spliced people, - where Hotaru insisted that, yes, some events would have to be somewhat segregated, due to physical enhancement, but not all of them. How could a unSpliced human compete in the 100m dash against a cheetah-Splice, after all?
The topic had once again swung into the process of the actual Splice, when their beagle-woman hostess happened to walk by. Setsuna waived her over, and asked, "Miss, what do you find as being different after being Spliced?"
She laughed and asked to sit with a wave of her hand. "First, it's like the difference between a battery-operated flashlight and a spotlight," the woman stated. "Before you get your first Splice, you have your usual five senses, that you are intimately aware of, but don't pay much attention to." She waved at the order pick-up window, where six plates were sliding into place at the same time, being put there by the squid-Spliced short-order cook. "Then you feel the new sensations that your formerly well-known senses are feeding you. Hitoshi, the cook, for example, raved about how his Splice was a boon in his food preparation. In a few recipes he uses, there are times that being to add several ingredients at the same time has allowed him to actually cook as much by feel as by taste." She then tapped her moist black nose. "I find that my sense of smell allows me to detect when a person might be too drunk to behave properly." She smirked at the emerald-haired woman. "You, ma'am, have had some Johnny Walker Black Label within the last hour."
Setsuna let the corner of her mouth quirk into a infinitesimal smile. "Forty-eight minutes, to be exact," she clarified. "But aren't there certain, um, disadvantages?"
The woman sighed, her ears flattening closer to her hair. "I'd be lying to say there isn't," she admitted. She waived her hand, once again, at the order pick-up window. "Hi-kun gets ridiculed about his Splice almost daily, people insisting he's a freak. There are some who taunt me, just to use the Mace that they're holding in their hand in 'self-defense'." She snarled, deep in her chest. "As with anyone different than themselves, there are those who will only feel better about themselves by putting others down." She stood and bowed her head in apology. "My pardons, ladies," she sighed. "But if you decide to Splice, don't go solely by the bright and cheery advertisements. Search your own heart, as well." She waived over the wasp-woman. "Here is your waitress Enjoy your meals."
The three were tucking into their meals eagerly as they were conversing. Eventually, the talk came to that of Splicing. Setsuna dug into her grilled salmon steak, noted on the menu as the 'Feline Delight', and cocked an eyebrow. "Makoto," she said with a small sigh, "why do you want to be Spliced?" Hotaru's triangular ears turned to point directly at the auburn-haired girl as she murred while tearing into her bacon-wrapped jerked chicken – called 'The Jamaican Barnyard'.
The senshi of Jupiter mused, while chewing her bite of salad ('Peter's Pride'). "Well," she admitted, "I'm already an outcast. So if I get Spliced, I want to be unique." She speared a cucumber, trying to organize her thoughts. "I've been thinking of double-Splicing."
Hotaru 'urred' as she cocked her head to the side.
Makoto explained. "I've been talking with a few people who have been Spliced. Some of them can't get quite what they want with a single breed, so they use a second DNA sequence to 'fine-tune' it." She sighed. "Some even use three or four. I talked with this girl who recreated a gryphon by Splicing eagle, lion and a small amount of mantis. Mantis to get a third set of limbs, which are completely mobile." She turned over her fork, staring at the slice of vegetable on the tines. "I don't think I want to go that far off, but maybe get a distinctive pelt design or something similar."
Setsuna nodded. "There are worse reasons," she agreed. She sipped a glass of spring water. "If you decide to do this, listen to your heart."
Makoto nodded once, as she bit into the cucumber.
Haruka stomped into the house, Michuru following a few moments behind. The blond stormed into the kitchen, returning moments later with a bottle of orange juice. "Dammitall!" she yelled, as she angrily opened the china cabinet to snatch out a glass. "First, Hotaru disappears, then we can't find where any of the Inners are hiding and finally, Setsuna gives us the slip."
The turquoise-maned young woman set down her own glass more gently, as she nodded. "What are we going to do?" she asked sagely. "Even Setsuna won't go along with reason."
Her hot-headed girlfriend growled. "Damn that bitch to the Dark Kingdom!" she exploded, hurling her unused glass toward the kitchen door. "She let our little girl get turned into a monster!"
Michuru could only wince, as her lover called down fire and brimstone upon anyone who disagreed with her.
The sole survivor of the Silver Millennium pulled out a handkerchief from her purse and covered her face, in time to block a sneeze of epic proportions. "A word of advice," the older woman advised.
Both of her dining mates blinked.
Setsuna continued, as she dabbed at her nose. "If I were you, I'd stay clear of those two for a few days."
Makoto and Hotaru nodded.
In a dark sport-bag, a certain Mausian was reading a brochure. Hmm, the apparent cat thought to itself, this looks promising...
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(Posted Tue, 12 Oct 2004 08:25)
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