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Spoilers!!! Spoilers!!!!

______This idea was borne out of late in the Escaflowne series, so it'll contain some spoilers if you care. (IE don’t read a word further, anyone who doesn’t want some of the dankest secrets of Escaflowne revealed)) (although you really do have to concentrate to know it's Escaflowne in the first place!)

(insert std. Fanfiction disclaimer)

______Leroy, an unusually aggressive-looking Yatusk, (Yatusk: indigenous to a particularly nasty area of Siberia. For an accurate image, take a Mongol and make him shorter and more broad) put the kickstand down on his dusty motorcycle, next to many others, all well-loved. The truck-stop was clear of its title clientele: they knew enough to avoid the place when it was full of these particular machines. Then he went for inside, where it was more lively.

______‘Now there’s a new one,’ he thought to himself, entering. Skinny, white hair. Red and purple jacket, looked a bit too big for him, but he was here with the Lizards. ‘And nobody’s giving him shit. Yet.’ He went for where the pallid young man sat at the bar. A hand clamping on his shoulder intervened.

______"Don’t fuck with her, Leroy. Not just cause she’s one of us."

______*her?!*

______"Man, she don’t got the jacket. I don’t see how..."

______"An exception. And I’ll make an exception for you, with your high capacity to piss people off, my friend. Let’s have a beer." The two bikers sat further down at the bar.

______"So what’s her story, man?" Leroy observed her oblivious stare. "I mean, she’s either tripping or watching the cockroaches. Why ain’t nobody here messing with her? And she’s in? I mean, she’s in?"

______"See the sword?" Unconcealed by the large jacket was a hilt.

______"Yea."

______"We found her in the desert, with three bikes and three of Burzoe’s hacked up so bad we could barely tell they were Burzoe’s. She was watching some insect crawl over a rock."

______"Man, that just _proves_ she’s fucked up. Somebody else coulda’ done Burzoe’s guys."

______"Well, we didn’t notice much of her first, mostly gaping at those poor bastards on the ground. Then somebody noticed there was a live body around."

______"So I said, ’hey kid, what the hell happened?’ When she didn’t do anything, I grabbed her and turned her around. She looked at me, real scared baby blues," he gestured toward his eyes, "I asked her again, and she shut ‘em and screamed. I grabbed her other shoulder so she couldn’t get away. Then she opened them," the biker gestured toward his eyes again," and they were red. And they weren’t scared either. I almost let go before she decided to kick me. So just like that she was six feet from me and..."

______"What the hell, man. You let her do that? Why is she still ali..."

______"Man, I’m getting to that! So none of us had noticed she has this sword, I don’t know how. Splattered blood on us when she pulled it out. And she asked ‘How many more of you do I get to kill?’ And we were just standing around ."

______"And then, she says, ’I’ll take my chances parrying that.’ She was talkin’ to J, who had his gun out, man, hell! We were all on the edge, but I just knew if we flinched I was gonna get it."

______"So I told her since she killed them, she could have the pick of those dead Burzoe’s’s bikes. And she was still smiling, like killing me would be a drug, and J was ready to take her head off."

______"’You fight them?’ she asks, and it takes us a bit to recover but we figure she’s talking about the Burzoe’s. So we tell her yes and she asks if she can too."

______"From there on it was OK. She looked at the bike she picked like it was some kind of turd, but she understood it quick enough. And when we got to Pasco she was like this again."

______"Holy shit, so she killed those Burzoe’s?" The other man nodded. "That’s messed up, man, she’s schitzo or something like that, huh?"

______"And that’s why we don’t fuck with her."

______"So if she’s OK why ain’t she jiving. I mean..."

______"If she ain’t ready to kill, she doesn’t say a word. But she helps out with the motorcycles like she grew up bunking with a transmission. We understand her well enough then. She’s killed six more, never with a gun. And two of ours when they wanted to get with her. I can respect that." Leroy put his beer down and looked Manlowe straight in the eye. "Don't mess with me, man. Our own?"

______"Do you think anybody’d let her have that jacket? It’s your funeral, and we’ll let her do it." Leroy looked down the bar at the thin girl. She was looking away, out the window at the desert beyond. A small smile crept on her face. Somehow, her jacket looked like it was fitting better. She turned and seemed to be looking right at him, insane red eyes blazing.

______Some of the Lizards noticed, and looked to be waiting for something.

______"I have an idea, Manlowe. Let’s go look for my ‘other’ bike."

Author's Note: Yea, alright, the thing I’m most pissed about in Escaflowne is the episode after Dilandeau and Hitomi both get taken away in a column of light. I thought something really cool like Dilandeau (in either of his/her forms) encountering Hitomi on Earth. That would have just been...interesting... I am writing something to that effect, but this particular piece is a result of asking. Could Dilandeau find a place to belong on Earth? So the column of light touches down in an American desert, not too far from some unsavory types. C+C welcome aaronbf@hotmail.com (Aaron Fairchild), and all that business.

Here's the rest of it.

______I remember, I think it was his idea. He’s usually content while we ride. Riding for a long time. A little dust kicks off from the tire, jerks sideways as it meets the wind. Makes a tan angle behind the bike in front of mine. It thickens, changes shape. Now a plume curved to the left side of the road.

Turn.

______It expands, merges with the others. I am in it. I bring the cloth across my face, breathe easier. Crack, to the left of the roadbed. Expands, yawns, narrows. I watch it snake onto the road, over towards me. I feel it creep under my wheels then go back. It gains companions. We slow down. The wind is less, we cut right, slow riding. Into a still, crashing sea of rock. Red and tan waves curling about us. Now flat, calm, barren. Manlowe, Gorl, J, he met them here. I only remember the riding, far away already. And before, walking in the desert... but here again, I know where I am. I care where I am.

______He’s excited, I’m glad for him. Up-grade, feel the motor live more as the wind changes. Onto a ledge in a box canyon. The machine there; it is like the motorcycles, only more. I get off my bike. I recognize it. I’ve never seen it. I'm excited. I can’t wait to get to work. He is excited: I feel his joy of reunion with his home and counterpart. I feel the vibrant anticipation of fighting again. I thrust my arm out, stopping myself on a boulder and biting my lip. Muscles tight enough to give pain. I won’t scream. I care where I am now, I know where I am. He should know it would be better if it were fully repaired first. Breathing ragged, I strain, lift my eyes to the craft. I know what each and every thing can do. He’s seen what each and every thing can do. I will repair it, please...there. I straighten and walk on. I still feel him peering through my eyes. The others seem astonished. I open the front hatch and climb in to get a better look at what’s intact.

______The place was about as damm forlorn as Bill had described it. We were hours off the main road, in BLM land nobody would want. Floods real nasty, looks like. Anyway, bad enough I wouldn't want to bring my bike in there. _She_ garunteed it'd be worth our time, and Bill backed her up. Otherwise...hell! So we got in this canyon and up on a ledge way up there, damm if we don't see what she'd meant by her other bike. This _robot_ ,y'know, looked like something a big alien would use for a spacesuit. Cherry-red, some scorch marks, 25, 30 feet tall. She jumped right in while most of us were still standing there with our mouths open.

______This is a dream for me. I remember, we were going for it, we were going to have it repaired. And suddenly here it is, my Oreades! In much better condition than I would have expected from being in this wasteland.

______And these motorcycles! Oh they're nothing like Melefs, but very quick. And so much simpler in construction. If I had an energist and some parts I'm sure Garraty could have rigged one for it in...well. My new comrades (I'm only superior now, not in command) are much better. The Dragon Slayers didn't have their hearts in it. These men do. I think they appreciate me more. These are just like the good old days.

Better.

______There's something interesting to do every second. That part bothers me. One moment I'm savoring the embers of a cabin we torched, the next, I'm somewhere else, with new foes set before me to fight and kill. It's like I'm only living the best of life, eh? Why question this wonderful fortune I have? And where am I now? I'm in my Melef. I am repairing it. I am so skillful, I don't even have to think about it.