[INT. HAIR SALON – "STICKY SCISSORS" – DAY]
The place is still waking up—soft humming from the neon lights and the scent of lavender conditioner in the air. ROSELIT sits lazily in a chair, lollipop between her lips, staring at her nails.
ROSELIT (deadpan)
"You woke up early. Impressive. Alarm possessed?"
VELRISE marches over and flicks the lollipop out of Roselit's mouth with a sharp tap.
VELRISE
"No candy on the anniversary, Roz! Today's about precision, not sugar crashes!"
Roselit just shrugs, now chewing gum she somehow already had ready.
ROSELIT
"You're lucky you're cute when you're bossy. Also, I hid the anniversary cake behind the dryer. Just saying."
Before Velrise can respond—
[INT. SAME – DOOR BURSTS OPEN]
CAMILA, half-asleep, hair in a pineapple bun, wearing a hoodie four sizes too big, drags her feet into the room.
CAMILA (grumbling)
"Can you not scream like a motivational poster at 8 a.m. in my house?"
VELRISE (pointing)
"You're sleeping at the salon again, aren't you?"
CAMILA (flat)
"Bed bugs at my place. This couch has better hospitality."
ROSELIT
"And I'm the maid now, apparently. Move your junk, Cam."
VELRISE (spinning in chair)
"Let's go, ladies! Clients in thirty minutes, and it's our 5th year in business! That means tight lines, clean fades, and no existential dread till after closing, capiche?"
All three nod. The camera holds on to their tired but determined faces.
[MONTAGE: "ANNIVERSARY BUZZ" – FUNKY MUSIC PLAYS]
Velrise is cutting a child's hair as MOWMIE hops up and watches.
Roselit is giving a goth girl lavender dye while singing terribly into a comb.
Camila is chasing a rat out with a broom and then serving lemonade to a customer.
Balloons go up. A "5 YEARS STRONG" banner flutters in the wind.
[LATER – INT. SALON – SUNSET]
As things calm down, they sit outside the shop with ice pops, staring at the street.
VELRISE
"I know we're all chaos... but I couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else."
CAMILA (half-asleep)
"Same... but if you yell at me at 8 a.m. again, I'm shaving your head."
ROSELIT
"Deal. You'd still be hot, though."
They laugh. For a moment. Inside, the salon starts filling up quickly with local customers—grannies, kids, teens, and a few suspiciously shady stickmen who just want "a quick trim." PURANA keeps watch over the books. Roselit and Velrise tag-team on a bridal customer. Camila is managing hair extensions like she's weaving battle strategies.
Suddenly—CRASH! A motorcycle skids past the salon with a masked rider tossing something through the window—a PINK ENVELOPE. It flutters to the floor.
Velrise picks it up. Inside: "You're invited to the Black Wreath Ball. Midnight. Come alone."
Velrise folds the paper and says, "Okay, ladies. Close early tonight. I've got somewhere to be."
[CUT TO: AFTER THE SHOPPING TRIP]
After a whirlwind of groceries and an accidental fashion show, the girls throw their bags in the backseat of their beat-up hovercar and slump into their seats.
CAMILA (panting)
"Did we... just walk the runway to techno jazz... in fish-scale vests?"
VELRISE
"I blacked out after the confetti cannon hit me."
[INT. STICKY SCISSORS – MOMENTS LATER]
The salon is booming. Inside, we see ROSELIT, PURANA, and CHRISTINE—each with their sleeves rolled up, laser-trimmers buzzing and scissors flashing—working on three male stick figures in perfect sync.
The men in the chairs?
MILO—nerdy, glasses removed, blushing as Roselit works.
BRANX—a gym junkie stickman flexing his eyebrows at Christine.
DARI—a stoic, silent type.
PURANA (with flair)
"Alright, boys, we're going with the Sideswipe Fade Supreme: Little off the side, and a fade straight down the middle. Classic. Clean. Irresistible."
ROSELIT
"You'll walk out of here looking like you run a tech startup and a fight club at the same time."
CHRISTINE (smirking)
"Don't flirt unless you tip."
Suddenly, the door bursts open—Velrise and Camila tumble in with arms full of bags.
VELRISE (out of breath)
"We got the chicken! We got the oil! We accidentally did a fashion show!"
PURANA (without turning)
"Put the bags on the counter and prep towels. We're triple-stacked on male ego in here."
CAMILA
"Who's the silent one on the end? He hasn't blinked once."
CHRISTINE (glancing)
"Dari? He's new. Said he was looking for the best edges in the city. His hair is divine."
Velrise watches them. The music fades. DARI, BRANX, and MILO—freshly faded—suddenly stand in eerie synchronization.
DARI (calm but smug)
"We appreciate the trim. Really, we do."
BRANX (crossing his arms)
"But there's just one thing... We ain't normal clients."
MILO (smirking)
"We're bandits. Respectable ones... but bandits still."
The entire salon goes quiet. A comb falls to the floor.
VELRISE
"You picked the wrong anniversary to try something slick."
DARI
"No need to make it messy. By our code, we ask for a duel. You versus us. One-on-one. Stick to stick. If you win, we leave. If we win... we take your billboard spot downtown for our own crew's poster."
ROSELIT flicks her wrist, her comb flipping between her fingers like a blade.
ROSELIT
"Tch. You really want to fight stylists on their lunch break?"
PURANA (cracking knuckles)
"Oh sweetie, you're about to get shampooed and conditioned... for pain."
CAMILA
"Let's mop these bargain bin stick figures."
VELRISE
"Game on."
Scene: Roselit's Hair Salon — rooftop, golden sun turning to dusk, a gentle breeze fluttering through Christine's hair like a slow-motion movie poster.
The rooftop tiles crack slightly as the "big guy"—Branx—steps forward, cracking his knuckles and rotating his neck with audible pops. Christine, already waiting at the edge, slides on her red boxing gloves, her eyes locked on him.
CHRISTINE
(calm but confident)
No offense, girls, but I'm not gonna let you have all the fun.
This one's mine.
BRANX
(chuckling)
You sure about that? I've taken hits that could break bricks.
CHRISTINE
Cool. I train with bricks.
She fluffs her hair, tightens her ponytail, and stomps her foot once. The rooftop echoes like a ringing bell.
🎶 Music kicks in — pulsing bass with sharp drum hits like heartbeats. Think cinematic electro-fight anthem.
[THE DUEL BEGINS]
Branx rushes in with brute strength — slow but heavy swings. Christine ducks low, slides under him, and lands a sharp kick to the back of his knee.
He stumbles, only for her to springboard off the ledge wall, doing a spinning roundhouse kick that almost knocks him off the roof.
BRANX
(staggering)
Okay... not bad.
CHRISTINE
That's the warm-up.
He grabs a loose antenna pole and swings it like a quarterstaff. Christine dodges every strike, letting it graze her ponytail, then grabs his wrist mid-swing, locking it in place.
Boom! Boom! Two quick jabs to the ribs. She lets go just as he falls backward onto a storage unit with a crash.
CHRISTINE
You're strong. But you're just strength.
I'm style, skill, and stamina.
[ROOFTOP SILENCE]
Branx gets up slowly, nodding with a proud grin and raising his hands in surrender.
BRANX
Alright... you win. You're the real deal.
CHRISTINE
(offering a glove bump)
Appreciate the respect. Now get down before I really turn up the heat.
Branx accepts the glove bump as he climbs down in defeat.
Meanwhile, in the next match, Dari stands tall, cracking his knuckles with a smirk. He pulls out a small, unassuming piece of gum from his pocket, slowly unwraps it, and holds it up like a magician revealing his ace.
DARI
I'm next. But this time… no bare hands.
If you're gonna fight me, you'll need weapons. Your own.
He pops the gum into his mouth, chews deliberately, and then blows a massive bubble that glows faintly green.
DARI (grinning):
Let's… expand this. Velrise, Purana, Camila, and Roselit exchange surprised glances, but each pulls out their own signature weapon/tool —
Velrise wields a pair of razor-sharp scissors.
Purana flips a folding fan that can slice through steel.
Camila grips a pair of sleek hairdryers, rigged like pistols.
Roselit balances a comb that doubles as a short blade.
Dari's gum bubble pops and instantly explodes into a swarm of sticky, flexible tendrils — like gummy whips — lashing out at the fighters.
Velrise slices through the tendrils with her scissors, deflecting the sticky strikes.
Purana fans the tendrils away in a gust, sending them flying into the air.
Camila sprays bursts of hot air from her dryers, melting and vaporizing the gummy whip-tendrils midair.
Roselit slashes down with the comb-blade, cutting gummy strands before they can bind her.
DARI (taunting):
Are you good… but can you keep up?
He blows another bubble, larger and faster, and swings it like a ball-and-chain.
[INTENSE FIGHT MONTAGE]
The rooftop becomes a blur of hair tools and gummy tendrils. Velrise executes a ballet-like sequence of dodges and strikes, Purana's precision fans cut through the attacks, Camila's air blasts provide cover, and Roselit's blade work keeps the pressure on.
[ENDING SCENE]
Dari pauses, catching his breath, impressed.
DARI
Alright… you've earned my respect.
I'll call off the duel… for now.
Velrise lowers her scissors, eyes still sharp.
VELRISE:
Stay out of my salon.
Dari gives a sly smile, disappears in a burst of gum tendrils, leaving a faint sugary scent behind...
Back inside the salon, the girls share a victorious but wary glance.
PURANA:
Well, that escalated quickly.
VELRISE:
This is just the beginning.
Milo, still lurking in the shadows, steps forward with a cheeky grin, his voice light but irritating.
MILO
Weapons? Pfft. Not me. I fight with style — and my bare hands.
Come on, who's next?
Without waiting for a reply, he suddenly lunges forward — fast and unpredictable.
[FIGHT SEQUENCE]
Milo's palm strike lands hard on Velrise and Camila, knocking them slightly off balance.
Christine, quick to recover, gets up first, but Milo swiftly sweeps her legs out from under her.
He backs up, then leaps — only to be blocked mid-air by Purana and Camila, their synchronized stance firm as stone.
Meanwhile, Roselit, agile as ever, prepares to strike Milo from the ground.
[MILO'S COUNTER]
With lightning reflexes, Milo grabs both Purana and Camila's wrists — spinning them around like human pendulums — sending them crashing into a nearby rooftop pole with a clang.
Before Roselit can land her strike, Milo catches her mid-air, grinning.
[CHRISTINE'S COUNTERATTACK]
Christine, undeterred, lunges forward, grabbing Milo's leg and dragging him down hard onto the rooftop surface.
Roselit quickly jumps on top of him, pinning him with a playful but firm grip.
ROSELIT
Say uncle.
MILO
(laughing, breathless)
Okay, okay... uncle! Uncle!
The girls all catch their breath, a mix of smiles and light teasing breaking the tension.
VELRISE
You're tougher than you look.
MILO:
And you're only twice as annoying.
[ROOFTOP – AFTER THE FIGHT]
The three bandits — Dari, Branx, and Milo — step forward together, brushing off dust and adjusting their stance. Despite the tension, there's a glimmer of respect in their eyes.
DARI
(bowing deeply)
Good battle. You're tougher than we expected.
BRANX
(smirking)
Even for… women.
He chuckles, shaking his head in admiration.
MILO
We're impressed. You've got grit, style, and power. That's rare.
Velrise, Purana, Camila, Christine, and Roselit exchange looks — wary but intrigued.
DARI
So, what do you say? Let's be rivals.
Push each other to be better.
And let the Stick Heavens accept it.
The bandits raise their fists in a salute.
VELRISE
(smiling confidently)
Rivals, huh? I like the sound of that.
Bring your best. We'll be ready.
PURANA
(nodding)
This city just got a lot more interesting.
They all lower their fists, sealing the unspoken pact. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows over Orub City as a new chapter begins.
CUT TO:
Velrise looks to the horizon, determination burning in her eyes, then she whispered:
VELRISE (V.O.):
"It's M'y anniversaire I shouldn't be thinking about "Him"....."
Velrise left off annoyed and slightly relieved at the fact that everything was going well what could possibly mess it up?.
[EXT. ORUB CITY – EVENING PARTY]
Velrise arrives at the buzzing evening party, lights flickering, laughter and chatter swirling through the air. She blends into the crowd, but her mind drifts elsewhere, alert and calculating.
The ballroom shimmered with golden lights reflecting off polished floors and crystalline chandeliers. Velvet curtains swayed gently as guests in lavish outfits laughed and danced, a soft orchestra playing in the background.
Velrise stepped through the grand entrance, her outfit flowing elegantly as the girls flanked her—Roselit adjusting her earrings, Camila already scoping out the food table, and Purana whispering, "We better not see any weirdos tonight."
Camila mumbled back, "Weirdos or not, that buffet better have those chocolate strawberries I saw on the invite."
Roselit added, "And who even sends a party invitation on pink scented paper with no name or address? I swear if this turns into some masquerade mystery nonsense, I'm stealing a bottle of wine and leaving."
They made their way through the crowd, attracting attention with every step, not only from their outfits but from their confident presence. Velrise noticed that some eyes lingered longer than others—mostly on her.
One waiter passed by, offering a tray of glowing drinks that looked suspiciously magical. Purana grabbed two, handed one to Velrise, and whispered, "You first, queen."
CUT TO: THE FALLEN ONE — NIGHT]
Mariette City glowed under a thousand paper lanterns, its streets alive with music, chanting, and synchronized footsteps. Stick figures in vibrant, scaled costumes snaked through the cobbled roads in perfect rhythm—this was the Parade of the Dragon, held every year on the birthday of the 104-year-old protector spirit, said to once bless the colonist, Mariette, herself.
Above them all, perched silently on a high-rise apartment complex, sat The Fallen One.
Clad in black with a thin scarf fluttering behind him, his hood barely concealed a soft gleam from his tech-lens as he recorded the entire event with an expressionless gaze. The screen in his lens pulsed softly with green lines of data: movement patterns, crowd densities, symbols painted on the dragon dancers—each detail being filed away.
Then he whispered to himself, not breaking the deadlock of his stare:
"They celebrate fire… but never see the smoke."
He turned away from the edge and tapped something on the side of his jaw. A transparent overlay appeared in his vision, showing a 3D render of his newly acquired home back in Orub City, the main town sector. It looked modest on the outside—white walls, olive-green awnings—but the inside was still 35% incomplete. Some rooms were just shells; others had decoy furniture to make it look lived in, in case any landlord "check-ins" happened again.
He muttered, "Gotta finish the main base conversion before the end of the month. I need to install the floor cache, the quantum decoy system... and at least two bathrooms. Tourists keep taking pictures of the yard."
He took a final look at the festival—one of the dragon performers looked directly at him for a split second, almost as if aware of his presence.
He didn't move.
Then a smile—half-resentful, half—remembering—crossed his face.
"Back to Orub. Before things get too festive."
He leapt backward, silently disappearing into the night, leaving only the sound of drums and fireworks echoing behind him.
Far from the party, from where he once stood atop a rooftop overlooking the city skylines, the glow of neon signs cast jagged shadows. As the dragon parade below roared in celebration, fireworks crackling in the air, The Fallen One reached into the long sheath strapped to his back and drew forth his sword — a long, sleek obsidian-black blade with ancient neon etchings running down its length.
He held it sideways, murmured a command in a dialect long buried:
"Forma Stratos — Rocket Configuration: Ver. II."
The blade vibrated, then twisted and collapsed inward, transforming with mechanical fluidity. The hilt split into handlebars, the blade folded in on itself like an origami engine, and a soft violet flame began to hum beneath its core. It now resembled a narrow, aerodynamic rocket with two stabilizer fins and glowing core thrusters.
He stepped onto it like it was a hoverboard, locked his feet in with magnetic clamps, then leaned forward.
FWOOOOOM—
With a sonic blast that rippled the nearby lanterns, The Fallen One shot into the night sky, leaving behind a blazing spiral trail of deep violet light. It carved across the sky like a streak of magic and technology fused.
Below, a few stick figures in the parade froze and pointed upward.
"Was that… a rocket sword?"
"Wait, was that part of the show?
"Nah, bro… what was that?"
But by then, he was already halfway across the region — en route to Orub City, cutting through clouds and sky like a fallen star returning home.