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Although the apartment was cramped, and both Ioyla and Ilistala were sitting at the kitchen table, it was quite difficult to hear the loud knock on the front door, what with all the noisy chatter of Stala's new pets. Ever since Christmas, the creatures and critters mooching off of Ioyla's limited generosity had doubled: strange gooey masses with adorable faces, ashy Mozou totems, winged cats and tiny children with antlers and pointy ears. There was even a bear in a fezhat, for Chrissakes! It was madness!

Still, the pets (or pests, as Ioyla so lovingly thought of them) were good for something: each creature served as a make-shift doorbell/burglar alarm. Once the pounding on the door ceased, all of the animals scattered about the apartment, diving under the couch, behind the doors, and even between the oven and refrigerator.

Talk about between a rock and a hard place!

Stepping gingerly over fallen boxes and that damn bear's fez hat, which had apparently been ditched at the arrival of someone new, Ioyla yanked open the front door to find her buddy Akina, and her hellish kid, Brimstone. "Hey there!" she squawked, kicking a miniture white mouse with a bell crammed in its forehead out of the way. The mouse squeaked and slid across the floor, bumping into Stala's barefeet. Almost immediately, the pristine white fur singed and sizzled, which sent the mouse on its way again with an exasperated whine.

Ilistala hopped off the kitchen chair and bounded across the small living room. "Brimmyhead!" she cried once at the open door. She elbowed her mother out of the way to let Akina and the sleepy Brim inside. "Please, please, come in, make yourselves at home~."

Ilistala giggled at Akina's compliment, briefly swooping down to the floor (which was in dire need of a good sweeping) for a curtsy. "Thank you, Miss Tokuwa!" she said, recovering from her curtsy as her mother brushed past the small group and into the kitchen.

There was a jangle of keys, low muttering, and the sudden open-shut of the refrigerator door, startling the bear in his hiding place. Ioyla came back into the living room, beaming and holding a cool bottle of beer. "Alright, ladies," she stated, nodding her head at Stala and Brim, "we'll be back inna few hours. Please, Stala, don't burn down the apartment. I just payed the rent, okay, so I kinda wanna keep it a lil neat'n orderly before you go round blowin s**t up'n stuff. Kay?" She leaned in to plant a smooch on Stala's head, who grunted, tried, and failed to evade the kiss.

"Come along, Kina!" she commanded, grabbing the elf by the arm and leading her out of the apartment, "that wrestlin match ain't gonna wait for us!" Ilistala swiped Brim out of Akina's arms as the two women, one leading and the other forced, left the building.

And then they were alone.

Almost magically, Stala's expression shifted from cheery sweetness to a thing of pure evil. "Hellooooo, Brimmyhead," she drawled, and cackled.

Ilistala slipped a tanned hand over her mouth to shield the evil giggle that slipped out. "Yes, I am!" she teased in a sing-song, taking hold of the ends of her shirt to skip around the room and giggle again. Ohhh, she was enjoying this way too much. For the time being, Brimstone was under her control, and there was nothing he could do about it! Time for a little revenge for throwing capers at her.

Once she was finished, Stala stopped at the kitchen table, placing a palm on the tabletop and leaning against it. "I'm in charge, yanno," she said smugly, "and that means you hafta listen to me. So...what shall we do first, Brimmyhead? Dress-up or makeover?" Ilistala burst into another evil giggle fit, craning her neck up to laugh at the ceiling.

Ilistala took a seat at the table (facing Brimstone, of course; whoever turned their back on him deserved whatever they got) and glared at the nasty little boy. "I can see you're not a little baby anymore," she said, "but if you're growin up, how come I'm baby-sitting you?" Aha, logic! her brain screamed triumphantly.

Slowly, like a lionness stalking her prey, Stala stood up and crept to the couch Brim was sitting on. She took the cushion next to him. "If you're so grown-up, why don't you take care of me, huh?" Quicker than quick, Ilistala snatched up one of Brimstone's hands. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me, right, Brimmyhead? Cause we're still friends, right? Friends help other friends out..." Still holding Brimstone's hand, Stala quickly bent behind the couch and picked something up, something small and shiney. Before it was determined what, exactly, that small shiney thing was, she jammed it behind her back, along with her other hand.

"Friends let other friends...have fun." Ilistala would leave Brimstone to mule over what she meant. Meanwhile, behind her back, Stala's fingers were working furiously on the small shiney thing.

At Brimstone's rejection of playing with her, Ilistala put on an expression of mock sorrow. "Oh, Brimmyhead!" she wailed, slapping the back of her empty hand to her forehead and falling into his lap, "whatever will I do now that you don't want to play!" A few hoarse sobs escaped her mouth. "I perish," she added, and rolled off Brim's lap and onto the floor.

After a few moments of playing dead, Stala picked herself up off the floor, sitting, Indian-style, in front of Brim. Considering his growing height, plus the couch, he would certainly be looking down on her. "I'm looking at you like that," she said suddenly, tossing the unidentifiable shiny tube back and forth, "because I'm in charge, and what I say--and do--goes." She would let that statement sink in, before abruptly jumping up from her spot and landing on Brim.

She whipped the tube out and tore off the cap, revealing hot pink lipstick, and with unnaturally steady hands, since Brim was likely struggling, Stala began to jab the thing at Brimstone's face, trying to pretty up his inky black skin.

Victory! For Sparta! Ilistala cackled madly--or as madly as her (roughly) ten-year-old voicebox would allow--and, quick as a flash, scribbled the pink lipstick over Brimstone's forehead, cheeks, chin, and lips. She paid extra special attention to his lips, making damn sure every centimeter of soot-black flesh was covered.

Once finished, Ilistala would casually peel herself off the expectedly grumpy kid and take a seat on the couch cushion next to him, capping the lipstick with a malicious smile. "I am the boss of you, dork, so get used to it." Out of breath, Stala huffed and blew a messy bang off her forehead. There, now that that was taken care of... what next? It was up to Brimstone this time.

As if he was suddenly psychic, Stala turned to Brim, scratching her chin. "Okay, your turn for something fun to do!" A warning glint in her orange eyes would shun any revenge ideas.

Ilistala watched Brimstone make his way to the bathroom, calling out, "Don't break anything!" before he disappeared inside. Alone--but not quite, since there were still countless critters scurrying across the floor and over the walls--Stala was given time to think to herself. She was older, now. More refined. What did this mean? Well, for starters, it meant a longer bedtime and more personal freedom. It also meant more responsibilities, something that Stala took to heart, but Ioyla shunned almost completely.

Still, someone had to be the level-headed one in the family, and she was more than willing to accept such a load. Ioyla may have called the shots, but Stala ruled the peons of the house: the peons included pretty much everyone besides the mother demon herself.

Heaving a sigh that was heavier than it should have been, Ilistala impatiently sat on the couch, shifting positions. What the heck was taking this bratty little kid so long? Jeeze, whenever she played with make-up, she was able to clean everything off quicker than quick! Finally deciding that she was fed-up with waiting, Stala peeled herself off the couch and shuffled into the bathroom. She stopped in the doorway, arms crossed and a cool expression on her face. "Missed a spot," she teased, indicating exactly which spot he missed on her own neck.

"So!" she declared abruptly, her voice echoing in the small but suprisingly wide bathroom, "you picked something lame to do, but I'm gonna give you another chance, butcha gotta pick what it is. We can stay in and play Makeover 2: Electric Boogaloo, or we can take a little field trip around town. What do you think?" Stala left the question hanging in the air, a heavy defining moment. Really, now, the entire outcome of the day depended on what Brim wanted to do. He had better not ******** this one up.