Sticks
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Clank, squeak-clink...

"C'mon, there we go...mind the curb."

Clank, squeak-clink...

"'Herd immunity'...gddamn collectivist hippie drivel..."

Helen Morgendorffer slunk in the shadowed driver's compartment of the freshly refitted minivan, like an animal. Cowering less from the frightful clatter of metal and muscle making it's way down the loading ramp, than the withering stares of the passenger and her companion.

More the companion alone, truth be told...the passenger barely spared an unconscious glance before retreating back into her snarling revere...

"Fine and good, great...make yer little girl forsake the military-indust'ral biowarfare complex while you go off to people's law school..."

Jane had stayed by Daria's side to lend physical support, but now found herself mostly a spectator to the 17 year old girl dragging herself along the school walkway with astonishing speed by her forearm crutches, trailing the occasional spark from a leg brace against concrete...

Along with a blue streak...

"Law school...fk'n (unintelligible)  crock...Stellae of Hammurabi and a committee o' vigilance...THAT'S all you need..."

Jane struggled to keep up as the pair reached the main entrance, shouldering open the door a moment before Daria ploughed through, seemingly oblivious.

She blew out a breath, swiping her brow with a forearm. Struggling to keep up indeed...it was hard enough keeping pace with her friend, but she'd all but given up on following Daria's grumbling train of thought.

And this, only her second day back at school since the...since then, was a good day, comparitively.

"Homeopathy...(unintelligible)...luddites..." Daria continued, as the two girls made their way into O'Neil's classroom. Jane shot the assembled crowd a warning glare, which was unneccesary, since most were pointedly looking somewhere else. "'Have to give it to 'em, at least they remembered to 'boost' the oversight when they went f'n'g yuppie for cute little Model-A larvae...oh, wait..."

A little alarm bell went off in Jane's head at the end of the last line, but she didn't recognize it until it was too late—and Daria's arm was already swinging. Aw crap...

Cane still mounted in hand like an elongated cestus, Daria deftly slashed her arm through the air, catching the hapless Mister O'Neil under the collar, and yanked his face to within mere inches of her own.

"—They DIDN'T! QUINN gets a date with mister SALK at f'n'ing 'GYMBOREE' while 'SOMEONE' got an 'organic farm' immune system and BLACK'S LAW DICTIONARY to play with! YOU tell ME—'dat MALEVOLENCE, or jus' sheer INCOMPETANCE? Want to hear what I think!?" she spat at the poor man, provocing a grimace did nothing to flatter the bruises she'd left on him the day before.

"Yes, yes, that is bad..." O'Neil said, in a tiny voice. "And I am sorry about to hear that..."

"—C'mon 'dear,'" Jane cut in, tugging at her friend's shoulder. "Class is starting...time to put down the teacher."

Daria blinked a second, hrmmed an affirmative, and relaxed her grip. O'Neil's shoes clicked as they touched linoleum again.

Moving heavily on her crutches, Daria made an about face to amble towards her desk. Patting her shoulder in passing, Jane mouthed a silent "Sorry" to the teacher. He countered with an awkward "no problem" gesture as he stumbled back into his chair.

Jane sighed, settling into her own desk. She could see Daria had already seated herself, and started scribbling furiously in her notebook. She was far enough away, however, that she couldn't catch all of the continuing murmured tirade—just the occasional word or two. "'Altamont'...'Kent'...'Happy Camp.'"

Jane gently cradled her head in her palms, and closed her eyes. This was going to be a very long year...


_
1/13/07
Response to Iron Chef challenge: "What if a Daria cast member had braces?" (The OP implied, but technically didn't specifiy dental braces, so...here ya go.

Almost did a followup to this one, but I didn't have it in me anymore.)