Professor Layton Harpy AU Oneshots

Context? What's that?

"Hershel?"

Hershel slowly opened his eyes to see Randall sitting next to him, his glasses slid midway down his nose, his fiery red hair more of a mess than usual, and remnants of fear fading into relief. "Oh, thank goodness," he sighed, placing his hand on Hershel's "I thought you had died. Thank the stars you're okay."

"Randall?" Hershel sat up, a sharp pain suddenly hitting his head. "What happened?"

Randall hesitated, glancing off to the side with an indecisive expression. "Well," he started, gripping tighter onto Hershel's hand, "You know that mage guy? The one that claimed to be a time traveler from the Azran period? He tried to attack us, and you made a magic force field thing to protect us. Unfortunately, it wasn't stable enough-"

"Ascot!" Descole shouted from quite a distance away, holding the mage's staff in hand and aiming it at him. Randall turned to him, reaching for his back pocket before Descole gestured him to stop. "No need for that, just come here."

"But-"

"Layton's fine, just get over here. I want to show you how this works."

Randall turned back to Hershel, nodding his head towards the others. Hershel noticed Descole angrily tense as the long, red staff in his hand began to glow, the obsidian orb at its top shimmering with magic; the man knelt down in fear, now stripped of his only source of magic, trembling in his crimson suit and tall black boots, strands of jet black hair hanging in front of his sapphire blue eyes; and, of course, Randall reluctantly joining Descole. The headache slowly fading, he decided he would join in, mostly out of curiosity, though partially to be sure Descole wouldn't hurt him.

"Please, Mr harpy-"

"That's Mx Descole to you!"

"Sorry, nix Descole-"

Randall shook his head.

"-please don't hurt me!" The man lowered his head and held his arms up, hands clenched together. "Please! I haven't dealt with a harpy of your power before. I promise I'll go back to my timeline, but I need the staff to do so. Please, sir-"

"Mx," Randall corrected.

"Miss-?"

"Mx! M-X! Like mix as in mixing."

"Don't bother, he's an idiot," Descole whispered, secretly just as annoyed as Randall.

"Whatever. Just hand me the staff, and I'll leave, deal?" He held his head back up and reached for the staff. Descole swiftly swished it out of the way.

"Absolutely not. What I want to know is why you decided to jump this far into the future and try and kill me and Layton."

The man winced. "I- I'm a harpy hunter. But I'm not supposed to be in this timeline. I came here by accident. Once my staff detected your magic, I knew you two were harpies, so I just tried to do my job."

"And you think telling us will do what exactly?" Randall questioned. "Make us trust you? Because if anything, it's doing the opposite."

The man's breathing accelerated. His arm started shaking, and his eyes met Hershel's. "Please help," he begged, unable to muster more than a whisper. Hershel hesitantly shook his head, saying he would make sure he didn't get hurt but not get the staff for him. Panicked, the man glanced back and forth between Hershel and Descole, horrified for his life. Eventually, his attention switched to Randall, and he reached out his arm and begged, "sir, you're a human, please help me!"

"Absolutely not!" Randall snapped, slapping away his hand. "You think I would betray my best friend like that? Were you not paying attention? I'm CLEARLY assisting Descole, and I even stopped fighting you to make sure Hersh was okay after you managed to land a head-shot through a force field. Like, are you dumb or stupid?"

Speechless, his mouth hung open. "I-I... I can't- I..." he stuttered, barely audible.

"Besides," Randall continued, his face flushed with anger, "what do you think I'm even going to do? Take the staff from Descole? Descole?! The one with natural magic and not artificial like ours, you think I'm gonna fight them?" He facepalmed and laughed, "You must be out of your mind."

The man suddenly lunged at the staff, but Descole teleported to his side before he could snatch it. "You have no idea who you're messing with, sir," they proclaimed, still mortified.

"Mx," Randall growled through his teeth. Hershel rubbed his back to try to calm him down, but to no avail. "Descole uses they/them you cowardly piece of shi-"

"Randall," Hershel interrupted.

"You're not even trying!" he furiously continued, pulling out a small white cylinder and yanking the ends to unfold his staff. Hershel stepped in between the two, offering to send him back himself. Everyone looked at him in shock. "You can do that?" Descole muttered, to which Hershel nodded.

"You said you're an Azran, correct?"

The man nodded.

"Well, this shouldn't be too hard then."

"But Hersh," Randall protested, "your magic-"

"Nothing to worry about. As long as he doesn't move for a bit, It should work fine."

"Then what are you waiting for, harpy," the man snarled, "use your magic. Try to send me back. I bet you can't." He fidgeted with his collar, and Hershel's confidence was quickly replaced with suspicion. What are you planing? he wondered, cautiously preparing the spell. He managed to get it to find the man's original timeline, and he was ready to send him back when the man shifted ever so slightly. Pausing the progress, Hershel watched him closely, noticing his sudden smirk as his entire body shifted towards Descole. The man bolted towards them, catching them off guard and snatching the staff out of their hand. Descole chased after him, and Randall attempted to slow him down using a speed manipulation spell, but the man did the same thing on himself, making him ridiculously fast. All three of them managed to loose him as he zoomed around, practically invisible. Hershel and Randall's eyes met, and for a moment, Hershel saw the man behind his friend, preparing to strike him with the staff.

"Randall, look out!" Hershel yelled, instinctively casting a freezing spell on him. Randall ducked out of the way as he held in place, unable to move. Then, with a swish of Hershel's arm, he was thrown into a far away tree.

"Hershel, what the hell?!" Descole shouted. Hershel couldn't answer, shocked by what had just happened. He had no intention of slamming that man into a tree, nor did he ever even think about it; it just happened, and he had no explanation as to why.

Thankfully, the man was alive, though he did not continue fighting. Instead, he sat on the ground and tried to rub the pain away. Hershel used this opportunity to complete the spell, sending him back to his own time.

"Yikes," Randall whispered. "Thank goodness there aren't any spectators."

"Yeah, that's what ghost towns are for," Descole added.

"Should we get back to looking for the relic, or too soon?"

Descole shrugged. "I think we're fine, as long as Layton's okay."

The two looked over at Hershel, who just shrugged and told them he didn't mind moving on. They all agreed to put that little interruption behind them, although none of them dared forget what had just transpired.