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It was an uncomfortable situation. Despite being a full head shorter than her, Dahlia managed to have the strength of a lion. Every twitch and fidget she was subjected to was putting undue strain on her shoulder. Crossing paths with their aromatic café was a welcome, if fleeting respite. Using her free hand to rub the pain from her aching, desocketed shoulder. Fiercely, she kept her eyes set forward. They had a job to do, even if it was under such foolish circumstances.

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Dutiful she may have been, she did have a partner, and when her attention was called, she gave Dahlia more than she was hoping for. Raising an eyebrow, Ume studied her diminutive companion. It wasn't an especially deep read; so much had been left at the surface. This expression of a fawn wrapped in the wicked clutches of a python was entirely transfixing. Her own expression flashed concern, before twisting into feigned mirth. Ume knew that this was going to require a level of delicate tact that she may not have possessed. One wrong move, and Dahlia would have been left completely mortified, and their collective mission failed. Her limited experience as an actress was going to have to do some heavy lifting.
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Channeling what she could from "Unusually Tall Lady Yakuza Henchman", she returned the terms of the mission by preparing to say something romantic to Dahlia. Only, her train of thought was rudely cut off by the entrance by the rudest of unrequested interjections, possibly, he may have been having an unrelated conversation. But for Dahlia's sake, she would have to become they men she dated, "'Ey wiseguy! I don't remember askin' ya a damn thing. Now, ya take that back, 'else we're gunna have some problems. Capiche" Her Kansai accent coming in thicker than usual.
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Right after him, an unrelated pair arose, a man in a suit and a woman in anime cosplay, "For my money, Spicy Honey may be the worst film I've ever seen. A true stain on Japan's storied canon." Said the man in the suit, taking a sip of Earl Grey from his teacup. The woman, nodded feverishly in agreement, "Yeah. Put me off me live action anime adaptations forever" Unusually, Umeko took this personally, looking back to the alien-hatted man, she gestured to the pair, "These your friends?"

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With only two free hands between them, it was easy for things to get so out of hand. Still channeling all the grace and candor of a motorcycle gangster, Ume rose a fist in jubilant as not one, but two shoes were let loose as projectiles, “Oh!” She cheered. Only a small part of that had been acting. Awkwardly reaching her free hand across her own chest, and leaning back, she struck Dahlia with something far more aggressive than a pat on the back, “Great shot there, tesoruccia, I’ll get a pair’a Louis Vuittons later to replace’em.”
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But that left one last villain to be dispatched. Ume recognized it as her turn. Cracking her neck, a furor overtook her already furious demeanor, “Hey tough guy. That problem I was talkin’ about, right here.” Flashing the Wordline Superimposed with all that eagerness of someone setting out to get charged with aggravated assault. She stood for perhaps too long with the viewfinder pointed. Beads of sweat began to set on her brow, and a tremble befell her; her façade was beginning to buckle. A problem had arisen, a big one. She needed full dexterity across two hands to operate her magical tool under dignified circumstances.
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“Hold on… I gots sumthin’ for ya, just… ” She rather shakily threatened. Letting the viewfinder fall back into place on its sturdy lanyard she felt around for her slides. Making no attempt to make eye contact with Mr. There Here himself, she finally retrieved one of the slides, and simply held it for a moment. Muttering under her breath, she slid the slide between her teeth. Freeing her hand once more, she lifted the latch, and freed the slide currently in place. Dropping it, she flinched as it rang for an uncomfortable amount of time. Setting the new slide in, she moved the super imposer to her eye.
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Sunny Los Angeles was suddenly inflicted with the terror of torrential rain. Dejected, There Here decided he no longer wished to be in this here. Saddened, cold, she didn’t even wait to be struck with lightning.

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Ume had felt some elation in having conquered three enemies, and with so little bloodshed. It would’ve taken some great force from the heavens fallen to Earth to move her towards negativity. Catching the pittering-pattering of rain on nylon, she turned her toothpicked gaze to the challenging couple. Being pulled into a devilish two vs. two lover’s spat was close enough, although she doubted if it ever started heavenly. If anything was falling to Earth, however, it was her; Dahlia’s start quickly had Ume’s elbow scraping against the worn socket, pain erupted and radiated through Ume’s very soul.
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Pain was the last thing on her mind, thankfully. Her eyes widened as the couple revealed their weapon of choice, one Ume was all too accustomed to. She was impressed, it was certainly a weapon she was considering picking up, given that she too was likely looking to need one. Dropping her gangster character, she allowed the Superimposer to fall back into her chest. Placing her knuckle on her chin, she nodded in acknowledgement.
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“Shura no hana."She gasped, under her breath, taking a break from unconditional support of Dahlia to express her admiration of an enemy.
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They were crazy, but perhaps not as crazy as Ume was pretending to be. Yet, facing the possibility of real violence, she came to the starkest realization that it wasn’t going to be enough. She had one last role to channel, one that she never would have imagined would have a place in the space of a lovely date in LA. The storm was the perfect setting, he twisted her thorax back, as much as her limited mobility would allow. Rain fell across her face, as her demeanor shifted from gangster to something else entirely. Tossing her head forward, at the cost of a risk of whiplash. A sudden shout of wind shot through Ume’s hair, and hair alone, sending the clumped, pitch black tendrils whipping to and fro in pure ghoulish radiance.
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None could escape the spurned Onryō, not after they had committed such a great wrong, and against her lover of all people. She had this role pocketed, ready for the perfect moment to bring it out into the fold. Never once did she believe she would ever bring it out in Dahlia’s presence. Creaking her neck, inch by inch, she eventually turned to face her mousy companion. For a moment, the rain broke, offering a singular dry moment, “It would break my still, lifeless heart to see harm befall you, amore mio.” The film wasn’t great, it suffered from severe issues with its tonally inconsistent script, and laughable special effects; before the event, it sat a 12% on Rotten Tomatoes, but thankfully Ume’s performance was not derided. The Italian, was Ume’s personal touch for this particular moment; it was supposedly the most romantic language (but Ume had expended most of what she knew).
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Twisting her wrist, so that her palm could touch Dahlia’s quaking hand, she finally offered her full support, “Show them what you can do; make them sorry for what they’ve threatened. Make my still, lifeless heart proud.” Removing both of her hefty wedge sandals with some skillful heelwork, she ensured that Dahlia would not be left unarmed. Tearing the Worldline Superimposer from its lanyard, she glare a haunted glare, and opened fire on the extended blade.

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Ume’s electrical blast had struck true. From the tip it traveled directly into his arm and sparked through every inch of now dampened flesh. Lighting up like a cartoon, he dropped the sword. His hair a mess, and smoke billowing from his mouth suggested just how poor a state he was in. Barely able to stand, he lurched forward, fighting to support himself atop of knocking knees. A purely hateful sneer had overtaken his once simply imperious demeanor.
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Beside him, his beloved wife was having much greater success. Having dodged one shoe, it looked as if her opponent was donning shoes to flee in the face of their great adversaries. Ready to cackle, he simply coughed a few pounds of shock induced smoke. Not bothering to pick up his sword, he pointed his umbrella forward, clicking an unknown button, he fired a shot off towards Ume.
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This escalation left the Amazonian filmmaker in a wild sense of bewilderment. Her character, however, only had room for intense feelings of love and revenge. Not showing an ounce of confusion, she allowed the shot–which had been fired in anticipation of a dodge– to zip past her neck, “Second thoughts. You understand you have done my love wrong.” Ume chanted, firing another blast of electricity into the man. Just in time, Dahlia’s feint had borne fruit in the form of a solid K.O. All alone, the nameless husband dropped to his knees, accidentally knocking his sword away, his wild ember ridden hair smoking.
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Victory was all but certain, yet the counter still read 4/5. Invigorated, he seethed. Somehow able to load another musket ball into the umbrella despite the rain. His hate, choking out any love he may have felt within the past ten minutes roared out as he could only speak by directly quoting Herman Melvile’s 1851 novel Moby Dick, “From Hell’s heart I stab at thee.”] He began, lining the shot, “For hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee." Which was all he needed to pull the trigger.
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He had failed to notice one thing, in all of his aiming, he hadn’t fully grasped why so much of Ume was visible. With one arm extended towards Dahlia, she had grabbed her beloved umbrella sword for herself. As if there hadn’t been enough cartoonishness that day, she had stabbed the end of the sword into the gun. Ume didn’t want this work, for she didn’t believe it had any right to. What she wanted was not what Earth-Chan had in mind, and BOOM went to the back end of the musketbrella, blowing up directly in the face of 5-out-of-5. He was alive… perhaps just humiliated to stand back up.
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Finally, the sun arose, allowed to peek out after Ume dispelled her rain storm. Soaking wet, she flicked the umbrella’s sword dry, and was able to succeed after a few attempts. All enemies dispatched, she was finally able to give Dahlia her full attention. She was glad she was able to enjoy herself on an adventure that wasn’t entirely dire for once. No longer within the persona of a gangster or a ghost of love turned malice, she smiled warmly, “I’m glad you had so much fun; that smile really suits you.” Swinging the sword so she could carry it on her shoulder… of course, still one handed, she dropped it so she could carry the far more crucial Superiomposer.

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