Mobius Knight, Hephaestus 1 and Arbiter Sands had all been in worse places before, being surrounded by laser-firing Council robots. However, none of them had ever been trapped by so many of them at the same time.
Mobius Knight unsheathed his katana. "I guess it's time to see if the metalsmiths were right about this high-speed steel being able to handle repeated cuts on robot shells."
Arbiter Sands held his hands out. "No way, man. You're going to get shredded out there what with the lasers, the claws, and the angry robot hate."
Hephaestus 1 stood there, inert but for the whirring noise of his internal generator. He scanned the area for any weak points in the walls where they might be able to tunnel out, his internal signal filters deleting angry robot spam IMs transmitted during the fight. There was no luck, though, as the walls seemed to be well-built and too thick to easily tunnel away.
"Guys," Heph said. "There are at least fifty Mek Men, maybe three dozen Warcry bots and Hoverbots out the wazoo. "As you guys aren't particularly laser-proof, I'll go out and try to negotiate. All this for a stupid pair of mystical panties," the big blue cyborg grumbled.
"It's actually a belt, Heph," Mobius Knight said. "Back in the days, that's what they called fancy belts."
"What?" Heph yelled. "We're shedding our blood and sweat... relatively speaking... for a BELT?"
"Uh, yeah. I thought you knew that and were just joking."
"Okay, that's it. Ganymede can bite my shiny metal-"
"Whoa, big guy," Mobius Knight said. "we're here for a belt, not for copyright infringement."
Heph's shoulders sunk. "Yeah. I'm still going to kick Ganymede over the floating truck, though."
"Through the Pocket D windows?"
"Yes. I'll clear it with Zero, I think he'll be cool with it."
"Or he'll wish you into the cornfield," Sands said. "We'd better hurry. My latte is getting cold."
"You drink lattes?" Heph asked. "What, is black coffee too much for your delicate sensibilities?"
The Arbiter's lower lip quivered. "Mine is a MANLY latte, dammit!"
Mobius Knight's eyebrow popped up. "No one has ever questioned your choice of coffee?"
"I'm an Arbiter, my word is absolute!" Sands said.
"I EM DE LAAAW!" Mobius Knight said, mocking his Arachnos teammate.
"Shut... shut up! I'm totally reporting you!"
Heph looked at his teammates. "Guys. We've got to get out of here. This mission has been a bust from the get-go. Now think. We've got tons of metal out there, waiting for us to surrender. We've got to get out of here alive. Now, how are we going to do that without being shot, stabbed or otherwise made less viewable for television?"
"Look, I can go all slashy-stabby on them, it's cool," Mobius Knight said. "I just need a distraction while that happens."
"I blew up my robots already, so all I have is my big mace that shoots industrial solvents," Arbiter Sands said sullenly.
"Well, I think they've got backup after backup out there. Don't fret, though. We can get past these guys. After all, you can't stop the metal," Heph said, the concussion pistons on his arms hissing as they went through final checks.
"Wait, what was that?" Mobius Knight said.
"I was referring to the line from Tenacious D."
"Wait. Fear not, boss, I have a cunning plan, but it will require something else."
"You guys are not dressing up as robots. That's insensitive," Heph said.
"No, no. Even better. We're not going to walk out of here," Mobius Knight said as he resheathed his blade. "We're going to rock our way out of here."
Heph just stared at his sidekick. "Right. You distract them with being crazy go-nuts like that, I'll throw pieces of floor at them. Good idea."
"No, no! Robots are social creatures, you know that from COMMA meetings, Heph. And what do they do when they get together?"
"Well, Moby, they usually talk dirty about the girl robots."
"No, no, besides that. I've been checking out the newsfeeds you mentioned for Mecha-American culture. What's the hottest thing for robots to do in a public social situation these days?" Mobius Knight asked.
"Okay, where are we going to get the controllers for Guitar Hero at a time like this?" Heph asked. "Especially with fingers the size of mine?"
Mobius Knight walked out to face the angry robot horde. "Attention, robots! There is only one way to settle this properly! I challenge your hardest of hardcore robots to... A ROCK-OFF!"
The robots looked at Mobius Knight and at each other. "We expected you to come out fighting, but we must ponder this challenge. Also, Unit 28 owes me five dollars. This unit told Unit 28 that the targets would not try to escape in robodrag."
Two of the Warcrys stepped forward. "We accept the challenge and are here to rock. Choose your second."
"Heph!" Mobius Knight yelled. "Get out here! You're my second for the Rock-Off!"
Hephaestus 1 stepped out, a large chunk of rock in his hand. "Right! Time for you robots to get- wait. They accepted the challenge?"
Mobius Knight nodded. "They did."
Heph looked askance at the robots. "They probably haven't unlocked Dragonforce yet. Buncha noobs."
The first Warcry pointed at Heph. "Bring it, half-breed!"
Heph's eyes glowed bright red. "You do not call a full-body conversion a half-breed and expect to get away with it. I'm going to rock so hard you'll go analog and like it."
"Big words from a big vocoder," the Warcry said.
Within minutes, the game system was warmed up and the stereo volume set to "So loud it breaks space and time to make your grandma feel it." Two giant controllers stood next to the box. Like most Council entertainment systems, the robots had hacked, soldered, and welded the electronics into a true multi-system platform. Hundreds of likely-stolen games covered the walls, making Heph wonder if they'd just stolen an entire GameStop and called it good.
Heph picked the closest controller up. It fit perfectly. "Huh. A Gibson X-Plorer I can actually use. Nice." he started flipping through the songs. "Ha! I was right. They don't have Dragonforce unlocked!"
The second Warcry looked at him. "Shut up! We've been busy."
"I'll go easy on you. Ace of Spades, hardest mode."
"That's not so tough," the Warcry said. "Prepare to lose."
An hour later, the Warcry was walking away from the controller in shame. Heph looked around at the awestruck robots. "Next?" he asked.
A Mek Man walked up to him. "This unit would like to ask if you could unlock all the songs for us."
"Try harder, noob." Heph said. "You guys need more practice. And four fingers instead of two claws. Now, make a hole. We're outta here like Doug."
"Who's Doug?" the robot asked.
"Never mind."
As Heph walked back to his teammates, he shrugged. "Sorry, guys, I got carried away."
"Well," Mobius Knight said, "while you distracted them, Sands and I accessed their servers and found the location for the Girdle of Aphrodite. We know where to strike next."
"You know, I think I'm going to go tell Ganymede to get bent. I'm not going through another stupid base to find some belt that makes people sexy. If you don't embrace your inner hotosity, a fancy belt isn't going to help you, either."
"Hot... osity?" Mobius Knight asked. "And who the hell is Doug?"
"You know," Arbiter Sands said, "from the old tv show 'The State.' He was the teenager who had cool parents but he still felt that he'd never be cool unless he rebelled like the kids on tv."
"Never saw it. Sorry," Mobius Knight said. "Oh yeah. Here's a summons to traffic court. You're a witness to a Chaser-Sky Skiff collision or something. We only went on this gig to get you this paperwork."
Heph nodded as Mobius Knight stuck the summons in Sands' glove. "The instructions on where to report are on the summons itself. Failure to appear will result in the appropriate actions being taken. Even Arbiters are not above the law."
"I em de law," Mobius Knight said, mocking the Arachnos agent.
"So, you mean no more wacky hijinks and improbable escapades with you guys?" Sands said, his lower lip quivering again.
Heph shook his head. "No more fun for you."
"But... but I wanted to join the team. I have robots for backup!"
Mobius Knight rolled his eyes. "Nobody loves a whiner, Sandy. Suck it up and show up at court in two weeks' time."
"Can I hang out with you guys after the trial?"
"No," the tv crew and on-camera stars said in unison as they walked back to the entrance of the Council base.
"Yeah, well, I didn't really want to hang out with you guys anyway! You're a bunch of jerks who laughed at my coffee!" Sands yelled before the camera faded out.
After the commercial break, Heph and Mobius Knight were seated in Larry McGonigle's office. Larry was leaning back in his chair, smoking a cigar and using his "no smoking" desk sign as an impromptu ash tray. "You expect me to believe that?" he asked.
"It's all on tape," Heph said. "Moby can back me up on this, right?"
Mobius Knight shuddered. "I never want to see a robot try playing a guitar with his tongue ever again."
Larry grinned. "Don't worry guys, the next thing doesn't deal with robots at all. Your next assignment is to the Botanical Gardens to serve a writ of mandamus on some guy named Gardenor. He apparently has been breeding counterfeit Devouring Earth creatures. The Hamidon wants Gardenor to cease and desist."
Heph threw his hands up into the air. "Like that's any better? Why can't we get someone like Captain Mildly Offensive?"
"He hasn't done anything since the 'I'm Not Touching You' incident last October."
"Fine," Heph said. "We're here, give us the briefing..."
The team conversed as the screen faded to credits.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Mick thumbed through the pages -- the closer he got to the middle, the less the ink was smeared -- and he wondered who this blue girl was.
He had only known one person with such a sunny disposition, a girl who had left Etoile after her mother died. He missed her. She was a cheerleader who the "French" kids called "Lupine", and the "English" kids called "Bunny". He fancied himself in love with her even though he had never dared tell her so. But he wasn't alone in that respect. Alot of boys at school had wanted to date her, but she had sworn to "save all her love for the One Special Boy". Mick thought it was just an excuse for her to not date "sons of spiders" as she had called them.
Mick always thought he might have an advantage over the other boys there, since his father was just a businessman, an exporter with Arachnos contracts, but he had lacked the courage to press that advantage, and now she was out of his reach, out of his life.
Mick sighed and opened the diary to...
Mar. 3, 2008
Dear Diary...
Mar. 3, 2008
Dear Diary,
The most awful thing happened a few days ago. The robot lady (She calls herself Elle! Can you believe that?) found out where Tabby and I were and in the middle of the night invaded the Orphans' home! She had her big bodyguard and a bunch of big robots with her.
They attacked us in our sleeping quarters while we slept, and if Emma and Ken hadn't had their own room set up, we might have all been killed -- or worse. But Emma and Ken heard the ambush and came to our rescue. They sent out a distress call over the comm and pretty soon Lily and some of the others who usually stayed out really late showed up.
We all worked together and to beat her and her robots. But I did something I'm not real proud of.
Her big bodyguard -- he had Tabby and was going to get away with her! I had to do something. I panicked. I meant to hit him with a blast of air cold enough to freeze his muscles to make him drop her but I did something wrong. The cold blast made a spear of ice that went right through him.
I killed him.
I've never killed anybody before. I don't like the feeling.
One of her robots did something to me. Attached some sort of robo-spider to my back and it took me over. They said that I started attacking them, but I don't remember. Strain stopped me by doing something to the thing on my back. Then she and Emma took me to some friends in Paragon City to get the thing removed. It had attached itself to my spine. I was afraid I might get turned in, but the girl who did the work (they called her Paw) was cool. She didn't rat me out. She did say I might have some scars though, but my spine was all right.
I just got back today and the others have done a good job of fixing everything that was broken and busted in the battle. The Orphans are the best friends I could ever have.
That's why I feel so bad about the attack.
All this happened because I was careless and invited a girl to come stay with us who was under the control of Elle. I didn't realize it at the time of course, but Elle can take people over. She's like a demon. The nun told me that. Lily seemed to sense something about the girl and warned me not to help her, but I did anyway because I just... did.
Thing is, I was careless because I miss Tristan. I don't know what I did to drive him away, but he hasn't come back for days and I'm so worried. If he's out there, I hope he hears when I speak to the moon at night. I hope he hears how much I want him back and how I hope he's all right and if he comes back I promise to make him want to never leave again.
On the next "Serv'd!"
Heph looked at the paperwork. "Wrongful powers lawsuit? People will sue over anything!"
*scene shifts to Heph and Mobius Knight sneaking through an abandoned fast-food stand*
Mobius Knight sniffed twice. "Gyros. He's HERE."
*scene shifts to the counter of The Wizard's Starship comics shop in Steel Canyon. I EAT PASTE MAN stands behind the counter grinning in his usual paste-flecked manner.*
"HA HA! I WAS ONCE- I WAS ONCE THE STUDENT, BUT NOW I AM THE MASTER, AM I RIGHT? RIGHT? HA HA! NOW I CONTROL YOUR DESTINY! IT'S NOTHING BUT ARCHIE FROM HERE ON OUT! BECAUSE- BECAUSE I AM THE BOSS NOW!"
Catch "Serv'd!" Friday nights at 9pm Eastern. Now on The Hero Channel. The Hero Channel: What Heroes Watch.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
"That [censored]."
Mick stopped reading and looked around when he realized he'd said that out loud.
Whoever this "Tristan" was, Mick thought, he must really be some sort of loser, ditching this girl. If he ever ran into her (not likely, but still...) he would tell her so too. He would tell her... what? That he had read her diary which she had obviously meant to dispose of; which, it being a diary, by its intended purpose was not intended to be seen by unfamiliar eyes?
The sun was setting, if he didn't hurry home, then he would be caught out after dark -- not an good idea for a civilian in the "Rogue Isles".
Mick closed the diary. He would throw it back into the surf and forget about the blue ice-girl and her adventures. It was a life he would never live. She might as well live on the continent.
But he had time to read one more page. He opened the diary at random to somewhere in the middle, and there, in the middle of the page, these words jumped out at him:
I'm not a lesbian, but...
A hot flush came over him. He knew the right thing to do would be to throw it back, to give it back to the oblivious ocean. He slipped the book into his jacket and headed for home.
Saya's eyes opened, and she focused her eyes on the clock on her desk. The college student began to roll over, then realized she was still sleeping next to Tommy. He decided to spend the night in her dorm room instead of home, since there was a big game night at the dorm on some weekends. Saya pouted a bit, then jabbed at his tattoo-covered shoulder.
"Hey. Wake up. I have to get out of bed," Saya said.
Tommy just murmured something, then pulled the covers over him with a blue metal hand.
Saya grumbled a bit and poked him harder. "Wake. Up."
"Huh?" Tommy said as blinked.
"I have to get up. Get out of my way, Tommy," Saya said.
"Right, right," the cyborg said as he rolled onto his back, then sat up slowly. "And a good mornin' ta you, too, Miss Fubuki," Tommy said with a tired grin.
The girl sighed a bit. "Good morning, Tommy. So, are you going to buy me breakfast?"
"Only the finest what IHOP can provide. Nothin' is too good fer my girlfriend."
Saya smiled. "Ooh, big spender."
"Besides," Tommy said. "I figure I can use both our licensed hero discounts there."
"I'm not a licensed hero anymore, Tommy," Saya said. "Don't be stupid."
"The file fer the Shizuoka Two-Step says otherwise, Saya," Tommy said. "Why didn't ya tell me ya wanted ta get back in the game?"
"Because you always tell me that I'm better off in the background," Saya growled.
"That's 'cause I'm yer overprotective boyfriend an' yer overprotective business partner."
"Look, we've got the last volume of the manga at pre-press right now. Can we stop being business partners once that's done?" Saya asked.
"Yeah, that's no problem," he said, moving his metal fingers through his dyed hair.
"Can we also stop being boyfriend and girlfriend, too?"
Tommy blinked. "What?"
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[ QUOTE ]
"Can we also stop being boyfriend and girlfriend, too?"
[/ QUOTE ]
Dun-dun-DUN! More, please.
Any opinions expressed above are merely the poster's own and do not necessarily coincide with the goals or beliefs of the Secret Ruling Forum Cabal.
Tommy Pachowski sat on the small bed in Saya's dorm room, still groggy from just waking up and stunned from Saya's question. "I don't get it," he said.
"I'm just saying it's time for the relationship to change, Tommy," Saya said. "I want something different."
"Uhm, ya mean ya want someone different, right?" Tommy asked.
"I want someone who trusts me to take care of myself. I proved my ability, I earned my Hero license, and I want to go fight crime while I'm here. You just want me to sit in a little world where all I do is draw manga and never fight when I see bad things happening."
Tommy took Saya's hands in his. "An' when these hands can't draw any more 'cause ya came up short against the Council or the Tsoo, how're ya gonna earn a livin'? When ya can't draw how ya do now, are ya really gonna be happy with what ya did as a licensed Hero?"
"Is all that you care about is my ability to make money? You're taking it for granted that I'm always going to draw manga. What about other things I want to do? What if I want to fight crime directly?"
Tommy let go of Saya's hands. "Ya gotta license, that's true. I'm talkin' 'bout if ya can't be a hero any more. Ya need somethin' ta fall back on. I learned ta be a mechanic in case I couldn't make it ta college. If worse came ta worst, I had a way ta make a livin'. You lose the use'a yer hands, Saya, whattaya got? Royalties off'a one manga series? That ain't gonna last forever. This ain't just about money, it's about the rest'a yer life, dammit!" Tommy shouted. "I don't want ya ta throw away the trade ya decided on a long time ago just so ya have a couple'a nice medals an' some pictures'a you standin' next ta Statesman. Yer not armored up like I am, an' ya don't heal fast like Claire does. If it wasn't fer the Medicom system, ya might already be crippled or dead. I love ya too much ta see that happen."
"You don't love me enough to let me make my own decisions on this, though," Saya said. "I know what the risks are and I choose to take them. I don't have a problem with gambling my future away like this. A hero's life is supposed to be passionate, where the fate of the world rests on your shoulders and you only have one chance to save it. That's the kind of life I want, Tommy."
Tommy set his feet on the floor and began to get dressed. "Fine. Ya wanna fight crime. That's good. Go ahead. I can't watch ya 24-7, but I don't want ya complainin' again like when ya had that powered armor shot out from under ya."
Saya went over to the sink in her room and pawed her way to the toothpaste. "That isn't going to happen again, Tommy."
"I also don't wanna hafta say 'I told ya so' the first time ya come in fer a cybernetic arm or hand," Tommy said. "That's how careful I want ya ta be."
Saya didn't say anything, as she was brushing her teeth.
"So, we still a couple even if I got reservations 'bout yer new career?"
Saya spat out the toothpaste. "If you can't support me the entire way, then no. I want someone who appreciates my passion for justice. You took my art talent as all that makes me useful and there's more than just my art here. You can't appreciate that, and I want someone who can do that."
"Fine," Tommy said as he laced up his workboots. "I guess we're just business partners until the contracts run out. I was wrong 'bout us bein' together fer the rest'a our lives, I suppose. Seeya at the next pre-press meetin', then. I'll bring all the stuff ya left at my place at the meetin'."
"Good idea," Saya said. "And yes, you were wrong about us being together for the rest of our lives, Tommy. I want someone who wants me to be me."
Tommy just nodded as he walked out the door. "As ya wish."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[awwww...ow!]
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse
The English language is an intricate high-speed precision tool.Stop using it to bang open coconuts. ~Tokamak
Dark_Respite's Video page
((It's been a long-standing argument of theirs. He wants her to have a future in case he couldn't provide for her, she wanted to be by his side in fighting crime as well as writing about it. Both of them are too stubborn to give any ground, so breaking up is probably the best thing for them.))
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[I know. But it's never pretty]
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse
The English language is an intricate high-speed precision tool.Stop using it to bang open coconuts. ~Tokamak
Dark_Respite's Video page
Mar. 11, 2008
I know what happened to Tristan now and how I wish it really was a matter of him hating me -- that he couldn't stand me so much that he couldn't bear to be in the same country with me. But that is not the case. He is gone. Truly, utterly gone. And in a way that would be better if he had died.
My One True Love is lost to me forever. If it weren't for my friends, I don't think I could make it through another day.
I feel bad about avoiding them lately, but I have to deal with things. I guess it's good that everybody has been so busy. And it's not like it's one-sided. Gina has been avoiding me for some reason ever since before Tristan disappeared.
But Lily has been a really good friend to me. She's gone out of her way to be with me, and I really enjoy hanging around with her. She pulled me out of the deepest dark depression and we started doing things together. I think it was her outrageous personality that drew me to her. She is everything I'm not: Sassy, tough, streetwise, sensual. And her language! She says things I could never say! But it's like she says it for me sometimes.
I'm not a lesbian, but I think, in a way, I've fallen in love again.
I mean, it's not like I want to marry her or something. (Eww.) I guess you could call it a girl-crush. She makes jokes about... stuff... us... but I don't think she's serious.
The only thing she does that I really don't like is her drinking. She binges. She'll open a bottle and keep drinking until it's gone, and then she will open another one. She's more fun when she's sober. When she's drinking she gets maudlin and says things that make me uncomfortable.
The next time she tries to get drunk around me, I'm going show her. I'm going to drink half her liquor!
Mar. 12, 2008
Everything has changed.
My head hurts. She went on a binge last night and I was with her. I did just what I said I'd do.
But also I did something I'm ashamed of. Something really bad. Something that I never dreamed I would ever do to another person.
I seduced Lily.
It looks even worse in writing than it sounds when I say it.
I seduced Lily. I knew how she felt about me, even though I tried to brush it off and ignore it. She told me she loved me before, but I told myself it was like, "sisterly love" or something -- you know, just good friends. But deep down I knew what it was, and I used it to deal with my grief over Tristan. I used it to make myself feel desireable and wanted and not so alone.
She thinks I'm in love with her now. How can I tell her I just used her?
I'm so confused.
Everything has changed.
((ever have one of your character just outright DEMAND you write about them? I do. Particularly Eulogy Rose here. DM/DA brute and my self described 'undead biker chick'. Anyway this is the story that came to me. enjoy.))
In a run down hotel in St. Martail..
Erika 'Eulogy' Rose sprawled on the bed with her arm across her eyes, trying to sleep. It wasn't often she tried to sleep, being dead and all, but sometimes on occasion she just got really really mentaly exhausted and sleep seemed like a good idea. however this part of St. Martial wasn't in the best of areas, as evidenced of the occasional sound of gunshots or the wild cries and yells of a gang of nearby freakshow. Of course to Erika this was all background noise and she was used to such noises. What was keeping her up was the racket in the next room over. A male voice rose another decable in his angered shouting, and with a muttered curse, Rose tried to block out the person's angry shouting.
"Wish he'd shut up.." she grumbled to no one in particular."Wanna sleep.."
The angry man's voice rose enough for her to hear his words.
"What kind of Stupid (Censored) is this!?! Can't you do anything right?" he raged.
a meek, small voice responded, too muffled to hear. Which peaked Rose's interest despite her desire for sleep.
"So you can heal yourself, big (Censored) Deal! I want those Illusions for your scary! MONSTROUS! But what do I get? (Censored) Puppies and Kittens! You are USELESS! How am I gonna get in with the spiders if my meal tickets a useless waste! " came the voice again even angrier it sounded like.
Rose was rapidly getting annoyed, he was keeping her awake. At least that's what she told herself, ignoring the subtle proddings of her often silent conscience to do something.
"Shaddup already.." She grumbled as the man began to rant and rave again. weather she was talking to the man or that conscience, only she knew for sure.
The small meek voice interuppted the man's ranting, there was a momentary silence that didn't sit well with Rose.
"Did you just inturrupt me?" Came the man's explosion.. "You DON'T Inturrupt ME!" followed by the sound of an impact and something hitting the floor. "You Useless! I'll teach you to..." the man's ranted shoutings and cursings were intermingled with smacking sounds..
Rose's eyes flashed open. The small conscience had found a bigger partner in Eulogy Roses' psyche. Fury. "(Censored) this." She snarled and got up off the bed, Donned her leather biker jacket and stormed outside. A few steps brought her to the door of the screaming man and the smacking sounds. Not bothering to check the door she simply kicked it down in her anger and stormed inside.
He was fat, balding and wearing nothing more than a stained muscle shirt and boxers. His arms raised to hit a kid that couldn't be older than 11. The place reeked of smoke and alcohol. He turned, face still red from screaming.
"What the (censored) do you.." he began.
He never got further as Rose grabbed him by a fist full of shirt and slammed a fist into his face, spun him away from the kid and kneed him in the groin.
"(censored)hole." she spat as he crumpled to the ground.
She turned to reguard the child, a girl with oddly bright blue hair and pointed ears, reminding Rose of an elf or pixie of some kind. She turned and gave the downed man a kick to the ribs before turning back to the cowering child. "get in the bathroom, turn the water on, and don't come out untill I bang on the door. Move." she ordered.
"But, dad.." came the quivering voice.
"I'll take care of this." Rose growled "Now get in there." the girl scrambled to obey.
Once she heard all the water running she turned again, The slovenly abuser pulled a revolver from the nightstand. Jamming it her face. "(censored), I dunno who you are but if you don't get outta here you're leavin' in a (censored) Bodybag."
Rose grinned, stepped up, the barrel of the gun came to rest on her forehead.. "Go ahead..see how far that gets you.."
"Your funeral." The abuser growled and pulled the trigger, the back of Rose's head blew out and sprayed against the far wall. Followed a short while later by a thump.
He had dropped the gun as Rose stood there still, hole in her forehead and the back of her head an open gaping wound. "How the hell..." he started before a leather gloved hand clamped around his throat and pushed him to the wall. Rose didn't answer verbally instead she pummled the man untill her grasp around his throat was the only thing keeping him upright. She let him slump to the ground and came to a quick descion. She pulled the length of chain from around her waist and sinched one end of it around the man's ankles, then she drug the bleeding abuser out and secured the other end of the chain to her motorbike. By this time the wounds from the gun had vanished.
She then crossed the street grabbing a loitering Freakshow by his mohawk, introduced his face to a nearby streetlight pole and then pointed at the hotel room. "There's a little girl in there. Make sure she stays in that room untill I get back. Don't hurt her, don't touch her. Anything happens to that effect I tear you apart and scatter you across the Isles, get me?" the Freak nodded vigoursly, Freakshow knew all about Eulogy Rose, as she normally showed up at their annual 'Freakshow Brawl for All's'.They respected her more than just about anyone else did. He'd do as asked.
That done she returned to the abuser, who was bleeding but concious and franticly trying to undo the chains around his ankles. he looked up, paniced as she sat on her motorcycle and started the engine. She grinned back at him before gunning the motor and taking off down the road, heading for the peir. She took the long way.
Killing the motor she got off the bike and untied the chain from the secure point on the bike before doing the same from around the abuser's ankles. He was throughly beaten, bloody, and batered as Rose half hauled, half dragged him to the pier's edge. She kept him upright for a moment before slamming another fist into the his face, toppling him over the edge and into the water below. She smiled down at him as he surfaced.
"I...I can't...can't swim!" he said between paniced gasps for air.
"You live on a (censored) island and can't swim?" she asked disbelievingly, then shook her head. "Sucks for you then.." then turned and with a flip of the bird secured the chain back around her waist before getting back upon her motorcycle even as the man gargled and splashed behind her. She gunned the engine and took off back to the hotel.
She was assured by the freak that the girl haddn't come out of the bathroom. She nodded and sent the freak on his way before knocking loudly on door. It creaked open slowly.a small head peaked out and up at her.
"Come on..I'm getting you out of here." she ordered.
"But.." the small girl started.
"Look, either you come with me, or I knock down that door and drag you with me kicking and screaming.." Rose grumbled.
Cautiously the small girl came out of the room. She looked worn and tired and Rose flinched when her mind wondered what else might have happened to her. "Alright. Follow me. Your ...dad..won't be around much anymore. So you gotta follow me and do as I say."
The small girl nodded clearly unsure as she followed the biker woman to her cycle.
Rose got on and the child did to. "Hold on.." Rose ordered and making sure the girl did so, gunned the motor and took off back to the pier. It took her a few moments to find the person she was looking for, but the sight of an old man hunched over tending to an fishing net caused her to grin.
"Yo, Paulie!" Rose called out killing the motor and motioning the girl to follow.
The old man turned and grined at the biker. "Rosie!" he crowed. The only one to ever get to call Erika Rose 'Rosie' without being beaten within an inch of his life. "Whatcha got there?" he asked the woman curiously.
Rose glanced at the girl, hiding behind her legs or trying to at least. "Cargo, Paulie." She stated. "I need you to get her outta here. Paragon. An orphanage or sumthin'." she explained.
Paulie quirked an eyebrow at Rose. "Don't tell me you're goin' soft, Rosie?" he found this very amusing.
"Don't make me punch you out, Paulie." Rose growled, but the man held up his hands in surrender with a laugh.
"Alright, Rosie. I got a sister in the Row that works at an orphanage there. I can get her there, but it won't be cheap.." Pualie explained, before he could get into the woes of his expenses Rose had slapped a wad of bills into his hand. Mostly 20s and a few 50s. "Okay, Rosie. I can get her there. One question though..why?"
Rose scowled at him. "I don't need no reason." she growled back at him, which caused him to grin. She sighed irritably and pondered punching him out anyway. She turned an knelt, looking at the scared little girl. "Alright kid, Paulie here's gonna take you to a place that's gonna look after ya now. Ain't no one gonna hit you anymore or nuthin' okay? You'll have friends and crap like that. you'll be happy."
The girl nodded. "Thank you." was all she said. She still looked unsure, however.
Paulie made his introductions to the the girl and by the way he carried on it seemed he knew how to handle kids. before they got ready to shove off the girl stopped in front of Rose, looking up at her.
"You're nice." she said before joining Paulie on the boat, who waved as the tug set off.
Eulogy Rose smirked. "Nice, heh. Just goes to show that you don't know me, kid." she muttered as she got back on her bike. "I ain't nice." she gunned the motor "Just easily ticked off.." and rode away..
(Eulogy Rose Theme -One of a Kind.)
((Something about Trey (Tarosvan) that I whipped up at work. He'd always been nostalgic about jingle dresses. Now I know why.
Sorry, no editing. I suck.))
Jingle Dress
April, 1989
Ann Arbor Powwow
Ann Arbor, Michigan
Trey sat in the back of the frybread booth, watching men and women in regalia pass in the front while his mother cooked the bread in portable fry-o-lators to one side. He shifted uncomfortably in the rickety lawnchair, trying to avoid hot oil spatters while ruminating on the unfairness of it all. He'd stopped dancing a little over four years ago, when he was ten, yet he was still forced to waste his few, precious weekends helping his mother tend the booth at the various powwows she still attended.
His mother looked sharply at him for a moment. Though a tiny woman, barely five feet tall in sneakers, her gaze was formidable, penetrating. Trey quickly flipped up the algebra book sitting on his lap, opening it to a random page and pretending he'd been absorbed in it all along. He knew she wasn't fooled, however.
"Cal." The syllable was short, sharp, and commanding, and he flinched a little. Though he didn't exactly hate being referred to by the diminutive of his middle name, Calawesa, he much preferred the shorter version of his first name, Trevor. "I need some more mix, and some change from the front office." With one hand, she offered the car keys, while taking a few twenties out of the hammered metal cash box.
Managing not to grumble audibly, Trey took both keys and cash, closing his book and setting it on his unoccupied chair before parting the curtain to the rear of the booth and exiting. "Fives, ones, and quarters, Cal," his mother called after him. "And one case of the mix."
"Yes, Mom," he sighed back, rolling his eyes a little in typical martyred teen fashion. Trey wound his way through the back of the row of booths, out to the floor proper, dodging dancers and visitors until he entered the clearer, cooler hallway. From there, it was only a short walk to the outside, where the Taurus station wagon was parked. Once he found it, he flipped through the keys until he found the one to open the back hatch. The key clicked in the lock as he reflected about the only good part of this weekend, so far. "At least Mom let me drive the... car... last...."
His thoughts ground to a halt as he peered through the darkened glass of the back windows. Just over the car next to him, he could see the face of a girl. Trey stared for a moment, transfixed, mouth gaping, before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. He wrestled one of the large boxes out of the back of the car and onto the ground as quickly as he could, so he could get a better look at her before she disappeared.
The smooth, tanned skin of her face was decorated with stripes of yellow paint from the corners of her eyes to her hairline. Two matched white turkey feathers surmounted a beaded barrette that held her shiny black hair back in a bun. She casually waved an ornately beaded flat fan to cool herself as she scanned the parking lot, smoky eyes ringed with mascara so they'd look more dramatic on the floor.
Trey tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry. Suddenly overly conscious of his appearance, he clapped dusty frybread mix out of his black-brown, brush cut hair, worn that way because it was unruly in longer styles. He cursed quietly at the white handprints on his black t-shirt and jeans, and his skinny, rangy build, then snapped to silence as the girl came around the car, walking by him toward the entrance. Her sky-blue dress, decorated with cascading chevrons of silver cones, chimed softly as she strode past.
His eye caught hers, and she paused for a moment in her pace, giving him a momentary up-and-down look. Trey's knees locked, as he tried to give her a nonchalant nod of greeting back, praying to whatever powers were listening that she couldn't see his trembling. Her cheeks flushed slightly darker as she returned the nod, then went on her way.
Once she was out of sight, he sagged into the still-open cargo area of the station wagon, gasping deep breaths of air to combat the tingling and tunnel vision, gripping the floor of the vehicle as if he'd fall out if he didn't. Trey wasn't sure how long he had spent prostrate there, but then he suddenly remembered why he'd been out in the first place. He swore, panicked, snatching up the box and slamming the hatch door before running back into the arena, to the front office to exchange the twenties.
Trey's mother eyed him again when he returned to the booth. "Was everything okay?" she asked him, faint hint of a smile appearing after a few moments of evaluation.
"Er... um... yeah," his voice creaked, and he huffed a breath, clearing his throat. "Just fine, Mom. Got the change, and the mix."
"Good good." She nodded toward the far corner of the booth. "Set the box over there, Cal."
Obediently, he set down the box, returning to his chair and algebra book. He tried to read his homework, but his mind kept drifting. Shaking his head to clear it didn't seem to help, nor did deliberate, focused concentration. He just couldn't maintain it.
After a while, he simply gave up on algebra, instead helping cook the frybread or working the register. He was making change for a middle-aged fancy shawl dancer in purples and pinks when he heard the MC announce over the loudspeaker, "Teen Jingle Dress... Con-TEST!"
Trey blinked, gave the woman her change, then turned to his mother. "Uh... mind if I go get a buffalo burger, 'r somethin'? Getting kinda hungry."
She lifted an appraising brow, then nodded. "Go ahead and take a twenty out of the cash box. Bring me back one, too, when you're done, eh?"
"Sure thing!" he replied, voice creaking on the last word. Trey snatched a bill from the stack and speedily left the booth, heading for the main floor.
Bleacher seats ringed the floor in two levels, a narrow walkway dividing them all the way around. He leaned on the railing separating the walkway from the lower rows of seats, scanning the floor for any sign of a sky-blue and silver dress. It didn't take him long to find it. The girl bounced and spun in the midst of the other dancers, lifting her fan in the air. Trey watched, mesmerised, eyes following her steps unerringly.
He didn't even realize the drums had stopped until the dancers started leaving the floor, his heart had been pounding so loudly. When the MC called out, "Inter-tribaaaaal!" Trey made an unconscious decision. He swung over the railing, scrambling down to the floor, until he was standing just in front and to the side of the Jingle Dress girl. Biting his lip in hesitation, he tilted his head questioningly toward the floor, where a mix of dancers and others from the audience were already shuffling in a left to right circle. Her eyes brightened, and she stepped up next to him.
Both Trey and she danced around the circle, around the drummers, along with the others. Occasionally, he'd introduce a few steps he remembered doing as a junior grass dancer. She laughed at the clumsy moves, though not unkindly, and he half-grinned gamely back, while mentally cursing growth spurts for messing with his style. Though distracted, he did notice that one of the jingle cones on the front of her dress wasn't a cone at all, but a silver thimble. She noticed the look, and winked. "Leap year dress," was all she offered in explanation.
All too soon, the drummers sounded the closing beats, and the intertribal was over. Trey and the girl looked at one another, and she snatched at his hand impetuously, yanking him close. Before he even realized what was happening, her lips were on his, pressing hard, unpracticed. He stared, and pressed back, realizing in that infinite instant that she was kissing him. *How do I... is this... my hands should be... bubblegum?!...* His eyes drifted closed, and he leaned toward her.
Then, she was gone. Quickly, he shuffled off the floor, running his tongue along his lips where the taste of her gloss remained. He felt a little woozy, but kept himself upright, managing to remember to grab a buffalo burger before returning to the frybread booth.
Trey's mother looked up as he parted the back curtain and slouched in. "How was your..." She paused, taking in his flushed, unsteady state, a slow, secret, yet every so slightly sad smile appearing. "... your burger?" she finished.
"Burger... yeah... uh. Burger was fine." He quirked a lazy, distracted, self-satisfied grin.
This was the best weekend of his life.
Quick as a whipcrack, his mother asked, "What was her name?"
His jaw dropped, voice coming out in tight, near noiseless exhalations. He hadn't asked. Trey was oblivious as his mother shook her head slightly in sympathetic amusement.
This was the worst weekend of his life.
Links to my Virtueverse crap
At the St. Florian's KC Hall in High Park, Pipewrench stood at the bar, cleaning glasses before the first customers and regulars would come in for the lunch special: beer and fried bologna sandwiches. It was all he could cook, but he cooked it well. He never listened to his mama when she said "A man has to know how to cook, not just how to eat."
Tommy Pachowski walked in with his bookbag slung over his shoulder, with the thousand-yard stare that said "recent break-up." Pipewrench looked the young man over twice.
"Ya look like crap, kid. Bad day at school?" the old plumber asked.
"Nah, it's nothin', Mister San Fillipo," Tommy said. "I was just doin' some plannin' fer work tonight."
"Right. What's this plan's name? An' how does this plan look in one'a them short skirts?" Pipewrench said with a grin.
"It's really work related. I got this Bearcat project goin' right now an'--"
"Don't gimme that bull, Tommy," Pipewrench said. "I'm old enough ta know better." Pipewrench walked over to the tap and grabbed a mug off the rack. "Here," he said, returning to Tommy with a mug of Schlitz. "Onna house."
"But I ain't old enough ta drink, Mister San Fillipo," Tommy protested. "I don't wanna getcha in trouble."
"Trouble? Kid, technically speakin' I'm almost a hundred years old. Ya think I give a damn 'bout some stupid drinkin' law? I fought two wars and got punched 53 years inta the future. Some bluenose comin' in an' lecturin' me on how ta run a business is less than nothin'. Now, who's on yer mind? That one Japanese girl ya been seein'?"
"Useta see," Tommy said. "She dumped me."
"Uh-huh. What'd ya do ta make her dump ya?"
"Nothin'! I found out she's been doin' the Registered Hero thing behind my back fer a while now an' I told her I had reservations 'bout it. She's been drawin' our team comic book fer a while, an' she always told me she wanted ta be an artist. I didn't want her wreckin' her hands onna face'a some Council goon, y'know?" Tommy said in between pulls from the mug. "Her hands're what makes her a livin'."
Pipewrench nodded. "An' she wanted ta give up her day job ta fight crime?"
"More or less. She wanted ta fight crime with me. I told her ta rethink it. She quit bein' a hero once already, an' she signed up behind my back on that, too. We always fought over her wantin' ta fight crime with me."
"So, she wanted ta be with ya, an' ya said she oughta stay home," Pipewrench said. "Why?"
"I can't fix her hands if they get wrecked. They ain't machines like mine. They're works'a art in themselves. She's seen the kinda damage I been built ta take. She knows she can't handle that. I don't want her gettin' crippled or killed 'cause she thinks she can tackle a guy like Atta on her own."
Pipewrench nodded. "I know what ya mean. I didn't want my wife workin', either."
Tommy shook his head. "No, it ain't that. If she wants ta work, that's cool, just... not in somethin' that's gotta good chance'a keepin' her from what she's always said she wanted ta do since I first met her."
"If ya wanna know what I think," Pipewrench said, "an' maybe ya don't, but what I think is she loves more'n she loves her trade. An' ya want her ta be safe an' able ta provide fer herself 'cause ya love her."
"Right," Tommy said as he drained the mug.
"Well, do ya really love her an' trust her ta do the right thing?"
Tommy looked at the mug. "Love her, yeah. Trust her judgment? Not in this one situation. The rest'a the time, yeah. I think she's makin' a really big mistake, an' I told her so."
"An' that's when she dumped ya?" Pipewrench asked as he took the mug back and refilled it.
"Yeah. She said she wanted a guy who'd let her follow her passions or somethin'. Followin' yer passion is fine, but if it's gonna ruin yer future is it worth it?"
"How do ya know it'd ruin her future? What if she lucks out?" Pipewrench asked.
Tommy looked over at the old man. "I don't think she will. She's gonna wind up crippled or dead. She ain't built ta fight like you or me."
"Or yer little sister?"
"That's different. Claire can shrug off a lotta damage. She doesn't even catch colds anymore. It's part'a the healin' powers she got after that lab accident. Even then I don't like it. Ma don't like the idea'a Claire goin' out ta fight crime, either."
"But she still does anyway," Pipewrench said. "It's what she wants ta do."
"An' I let her 'cause she can handle the worst that comes after her. Saya's normal. No cybernetics, no weird powers from a lab accident on top'a her mutant powers, no armor, no nothin'. Just her an' her hands an' feet."
"Well, kid ya oughta support her, even if what she's doin' ain't smart. She'll figure it out quick enough, I think. I bet if ya try, ya both can salvage yer relationship."
Tommy drank half the mug down in one gulp. "Nah, screw it. Me an' Saya are done. If she's gonna ruin her chance at a stable job fer the rest'a her life 'cause she wants a little glory, then I can't support that. If I can't support that, then she don't want me around. It's over an' done."
"Uh-huh," Pipewrench said. "Look, give her some time an' some room an' she'll come around. An' it'll give ya the time ya need ta cool down as well. When ya cool down, you'll probably wanna talk ta her again."
"Maybe," Tommy said as he finished his second mug. "I dunno. Maybe I oughta start seein' other girls."
"Right, right," Pipewrench said. "Look, I gotta start up the stove. Those two beers're onna house. Ya want more, it's the regular price."
Tommy nodded his head and pulled out one of his textbooks. With a sigh and a shake of his head he began to study.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Man... I haven't checked this thread in a few days. Chrome, Morv, and of course, J... Great reads!))
((Yeah, every day I think I have it easy in this thread, someone comes in and jacks up the writing quality some more. I tell you, it's murder in here! 
))
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((Trey let me write another one. And there was much rejoicing. Yaaaay. *waves tiny flags*
No edits, yadda yadda yadda...))
April, 2008
Light the Lodge Powwow
Storr, Connecticut
Trey stared critically into the mirror. He frowned at the set of the porcupine roach on his barely restrained hair, suspecting that the straps from the leather spreader were still too loose to hold it on properly. A brief retightening seemed to do the job to his satisfaction, after shaking his head to check the fit. Other dancers around him were also checking their regalia, fastening cuffs or applying facepaint, but he paid little attention to them, wrapped up in his own preparations. He pulled at the chains around his neck. They weren't what he'd prefer to wear, but as the mysterious links were bonded wthout seam, there wasn't much he could do. He let them drop.
It had been almost twenty-five years since the last time he'd danced in a powwow, and he was suffering from an uncharacteristic attack of nerves. Trey had been practicing on his own for almost a year now, carefully watching streaming video online of talented grass dancers like Wambli Charging Eagle, Randy Paskemin, and Julius Not Afraid, trying to adapt their moves to his own style. His practice dances had gone well, but this time, he'd be in front of judges, and peers.
Huffing a few short breaths, he bounced on the balls of his feet, watching the sway of the leather motorcycle and flat yarn fringe on the bottom of the apron. He shook out his shoulders, spinning a half circle to the left, then to the right, loosening himself up. The fringe on the green and silver-white regalia swayed agreeably, and he nodded to himself, banishing his nervousness. *Hell, this isn't as bad as karaoke in drag. Pull yourself together....*
He glanced up as the locker room door creaked open. A young man in a tie-dye Gathering of Nations t-shirt, wearing a headset and gesturing with a clipboard, announced to the room, "Time to line up for the Grand Entry. Make sure your numbers are visible on the left waist of your regalia. I'll direct you to the appropriate section of the dance line one or two at a time. Dance with honor, gents." The man waved, and the dancers began to file out the door, doing their final checks on the way.
With another few short, deep breaths, Trey followed, waiting his turn to be pointed to where the grass dancers would be in the grand entry procession. While he waited, he scanned the crowd, checking out the colorful dance outfits of the Southern fancy and fancy shawl dancers nearby. There were several powwow volunteers directing the other dancers into the Grand Entry line. He quirked a faint grin, seeing one of the other locker room doors open to reveal a young woman in faded jeans lead out a group of jingle dress dancers.
*I wonder....* Trey looked over the group, seeing if he could spot a dress he remembered, sky-blue with chevrons of silver jingle cones, and a single silver thimble. None of the dresses looked quite like the one the girl wore long ago, though. There was a faint twinge of disappointment as he was shepherded into his place in line.
In moments, the American flag and eagle staff were lifted, and the head man and lady dancers started the procession into the dance arena. The column of dancers moved slowly, curving around the floor. Trey resisted the urge to look up at the bleachers as he danced out with the others, with only moderate success. He'd invited quite a few of his acquaintances to come watch him dance, but he couldn't spot any of them in his brief glances. Longer looks would have broken his concentration, and he didn't want to miss any beats.
It was much easier to take stock of the dancers around him, studying their moves and regalia. He admired the feathered whip sticks the Northern and Southern fancy dancers used, though the Southern variety were a little too brightly colored for his tastes. Still, he wasn't ready to trade in his flat fan just yet. The traditional buckskin and cloth dancers passed by in a stately, dignified manner, followed by more jingle dresses, this time teens.
It was an almost subliminal glance, but it was enough for Trey to almost lose step. He looked again. One of the teen girls was wearing what looked like an exact replica of the dress he saw so many years ago, except for the beaded, flared-wing eagle design hugging the girl's throat.
With a momentary flare of anger at himself for losing concentration, he got back into step, but promised himself he'd at least look into the identity of the dancer later.
* * * * * * *
After the Grand Entry, the column broke, dancers going their separate ways to either take a break, or ready themselves for the next dance. Trey checked his regalia again briefly, then went to seek the girl in the sky-blue dress.
It was over half an hour before he found her, talking with a teen boy in a chicken dance outfit near a booth selling blankets. Trey waited for a break in the chatter, and cleared his throat. The pair turned, immediately regarding him with the suspicion teens usually have for adults. "'Scuse me, miss," he began politely. "Great jingle dress. You make that yourself?"
Her eyes rolled, but she answered him. "Just the beading. It's my Mom's old dress." An indistinct, older female voice came from some distance away, and the girl responded. "Right here, Mom. There's an -old- guy here asking about your dress." Her tone suggested she thought Trey was 'skeevy' and possibly a perv.
Trey frowned, unoffended by the tone, but touched the corner of one of his eyes, where nascent crow's-feet nestled. *I don't look -that- old...* he thought indignantly to himself, vanity lightly bruised. He shook it off, though, when the owner of the older female voice came into view.
She turned the corner of the booth, carefully maneuvering her crutches around the table. A thick white cast, colorfully scribbled in various shades of marker, wrapped her left foot, peeking out from under a fringed white buckskin dress. She was heavier-set, more matronly than she was twenty years ago... but she had the same face.
Trey froze, shocked. He'd dealt with a lot of surprising coincidences since he'd taken on the mantle of Seven, the Chariot, but this one took the cake. Finally, he realized the woman was staring at him curiously, with a growing hint of suspicion. "Er... sorry. Just... heh. Would you believe this? There was this girl, twenty years ago, and...." He took a deep breath, and sighed, losing the garrulousness. "You wouldn't happen to have gone to the Ann Arbor Powwow around then, and kissed a boy who smelled like frybread?"
The woman stared at Trey a moment uncertainly, then a hint of recognition showed. "No -way-!" the girl exclaimed, turning and bouncing away, calling, "Daaaaaaaad!"
She followed her daughter with her eyes, evidently amused, then looked back at Trey. "You... were him, right?"
He leaned against the wall, thinking back. "Er... black t-shirt, really short hair?"
Nodding, she continued, "And you did this little shuffle in the intertribal...." She trailed off, looking at her foot. "Well, I can't do it -now-."
He laughed. "Don't suppose you can. I'm Trevor Mercer. Trey works, too." It took effort for him to leave off the 'or Seven, or the Chariot' part he was so accustomed to adding.
"Marva Bent Oak," she smiled, "and that little hellion that just ran off was my oldest, Dana. She has the same amount of respect for her elders as most her age do, but she'll grow out of that lack. I did." She tilted her head toward one of the tables nearby, surrounded by chairs. "Do you mind if we sit?"
"Hm? Oh, right. We should do that." Trey pulled one of the chairs out for Marva, and she seated herself, arranging her crutches to be out of the way. "How'd you do that?" he asked.
"Basketball practice with my boy. Old women like me should not be trying to slam dunk," she chuckled. "So, you're the frybread boy."
"Looks that way, eh?" Trey quirked a grin. "Never forgot about that... and never really stopped beating myself up for forgetting to ask your name."
"I could have asked too, you know. I still don't know whether I willfully forgot to, or not."
He nodded. "I just plain forgot. Why did you kiss me, anyway?"
Marva picked at the long fringe on her sleeves thoughtfully for a few moments, then shrugged. "You were cute. And I'd never kissed anyone before. I wondered what it would be like."
"It surprised the He... eck out of me," he corrected himself, noting the number of small children milling about. "So, you're married now?"
"Seventeen years," she nodded in confirmation. "Three kids. How about you?"
Trey shook his head. "No. I was pretty much married to the Job for a while."
"What did you do?"
"Motor patrol... cop," he answered. "For about ten years."
"I run a print shop. Banners, programs, things like that. My husband teaches math. So, you're not a cop any more?" she asked, shifting in her chair to bring her broken foot in further, away from the youngsters dashing around the room.
"On the job accident," Trey replied, hoping he didn't sound as evasive as he was being. "Had to leave the force after that. I do a bit of security guard work now, for a free clinic. Money isn't bad, and the hours are pretty flexible. Enough time for me to practice dancing, anyway."
"Let me know when you're dancing, and we'll watch." Marva paused as a hand rested on her shoulder. She glanced up and back, then smiled wider. "I see Dana found you. Will, this is Trey Mercer. Trey, this is my husband."
The man extended a hand, and Trey accepted. His hair was sandy, but the rest of him looked Native. He grinned in a friendly manner, shaking hands firmly. "William Bent Oak, Cherokee. Osiyo."
"Hi there, nice to meet you. Shawnee, though unaffiliated." Trey looked around the room. "Nice powwow, here."
William looked pleased. "We've been coming here a few years."
"Will, remember me telling you about my first kiss? Well, this is him." Marva chuckled. "After all these years."
Will didn't seem insecure. "No kidding?" He pulled out a seat next to his wife. "Mind if I hear it from your side?"
The three of them talked for some time, Marva sending Dana to fetch coffee at one point. After an hour, though, Trey looked at the clock above a beading booth. "About time for me to dance, eh? It was nice meeting you all."
"Good to meet you, too, Trey," Will returned. "Will you be going to the 49 tonight?" Marva added.
"We'll see if I survive this, first. Haven't danced at a powwow since I was ten." He quirked a grin, arranging his fringe as he stood up. "Paselo, eh?"
Marva waved, as Will helped her up. "Donadagohvi."
Trey turned, striding toward the dance arena.
Links to my Virtueverse crap
"So, all those girls and you only talked to a couple of them?" the Cobalt Claymore said as he swung his longsword down towards Back Yard Boom. "Tommy, you're single. Go act like it!"
Back Yard Boom parried the sword with one metal arm, sparks flying where metal bit into metal. He shifted to one side and threw a spinning backhand towards the blue-clad swordsman. "Nah, man, I screwed up big time. I just gotta take my lumps an' deal with it." The Cobalt Claymore leapt back to avoid the shot, then re-sheathed his sword.
"Well, that was a half-[censored] punch, Tommy. If you're going to let this thing with Saya drain all the aggression out of you, then I'm not going to train with you until you get your act together again." He pulled back his cowl and mask to reveal the features of one Todd Galahad, History major at PCU and current collections specialist of the Harriman Archive.
"Dude, come on. I'm just gettin' warmed up!" the blue-haired cyborg said.
"Look, just go to the gym and lift or run or something. You don't have the energy right now to fight like you mean it," the Cobalt Claymore said. "Just scale back until you can get that fighting spirit again."
"Aw, come on, Todd, it ain't like that!" Back Yard Boom snapped.
The Cobalt Claymore was already heading towards the lockers from the training room floor. Tommy ran up to walk alongside him. "Seriously man, I'm ready ta ramp things up an' fight."
"No, you're not. Here's some unsolicited advice: go apologize to Saya and beg her to take you back, or go find some new girl to chase after. You've been saying that it's over between the two of you, so either prove it's over or get back together, all right?"
"Fine, fine," Back Yard Boom said as they headed to the lockers. "I'll see what I can do."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*The Opening Credits start up, but with a funky 70s cop show bassline in place of the earlier theme music. Hephaestus 1 and Moby are standing in front of an apartment door.*
"Just open up, all right?" Heph asked. "We have papers we need to hand over to you."
"No," a gruff voice said. "I'm nae comin' out if I dun wanna!"
"These are plaintiff copies! Your attorney will need them," Moby said.
"I'm nae openin' the door!"
"Look. I understand this might be embarrassing, but we need you to sign for the papers."
"Sod off!"
"No. Now come out here and sign for these stupid papers! Seriously!" the big blue cyborg shouted as he opened the envelope. "It's only a... wait." Heph looked at the paperwork. "Wrongful powers lawsuit? People will sue over anything!"
The door was opened to reveal a large bug-eyed hairy Scotsman in a three-tone pink kilt. His tam-o-shanter had a princess' tiara wrapped around it.
"Are ye happy now?" the large man said.
Mobius Knight blinked. "No, I'm kind of disgusted, yet I'm also vaguely used to these things by now."
Heph looked at the paperwork again. "Wait. You're not Patty Perlman, the Princess of Preserves. Sorry, uh, man..."
"Och, it's indeed me, to my shame," the pink-clad Scotsman said. "I was once Patty Perlman, a world-class maker of jams and jellies. One night while working on my greatest recipe yet, I was struck by an errant bolt of unknown energy! Gone was sweet and innocent Patty and in her place was... LADDIE MARMALADE!" he said, weeping into a dainty lace handkerchief. "Now, I have this horrid body and the power to control all types of fruit preserves! I did nae want these powers! The City owes me for failing to protect me!"
Heph looked at Moby, then back at Laddie Marmalade. "Just sign the damn acknowledgement of receipt."
"Have ye no heart? Ye dinna ken the troubles I've seen," the large, hairy man said.
Moby grinned under his mask. "You have no idea what we've seen. You're only merely freaky compared to some of the things we've seen. You know, C-Beams glittering off the Tannhauser Gate, fiery angels falling, stuff like that. Hairy gender-bender in an ugly skirt? Merely freaky."
Heph nodded. "Yep. Couldn't have said it better myself. Now, sign please."
30 minutes later, the crew of "Serv'd!" was eating at a nearby Up N' Away Burger.
"So, Blade Runner quotes, huh?" Heph asked.
"I had to. I couldn't exactly point at the guy and say 'Stop breaking my mind!' now, could I?" Moby answered.
"Yeah, I guess not. I can understand the trauma of finding out you have superpowers when none previously existed," Heph said. "Especially when they're mediocre powers that come with a stupid limitation."
One of Heph's antennae extended. "Hang on, getting a call. Hey, Larry. What? Fang's in trouble? I EAT PASTE MAN is on a rampage? Right, right, we're on it." The antenna retracted. "Come on Moby, we've got some hero stuff to do."
The crew gathered up their trash and left.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
The team pulled up to an abandoned Up-N-Away Burger in Hephaestus 1's SUV. The old fast-food restaurant was surrounded by police vehicles and yards of yellow warning tape. Heph and Mobius Knight walked over to the police sergeant in charge of the scene as Clem and Mitch set up their gear.
"Hey, Murph," Hephaestus 1 said as he surveyed the area. "What do we have here?"
"This is one of the more common ones, Mick; it's an S-Code 138: Animated Mascot Rampage, Supernatural," Sergeant Murphy said as he reviewed his manpower sheets. "I sent one of my officers in to deal with it, and he hasn't come out yet."
Heph pulled out a notepad and pen from a shirt pocket. One of the first things a good police officer learns is to always have something to use for writing and always have a place to take notes. "So, why didn't you send in a building entry team or a couple of Ghosts?"
"You know how it is, Mick," the sergeant complained while scratching at his salt-and-pepper hair. "You have to have pull to get SWAT access if you've already got a cape in your platoon."
Heph's mechanical eyebrow raised. "So, you're Fang's sergeant, huh? Were you the one who called Larry McGonigle?"
"Yeah, that was me," Sergeant Murphy said. "I figured getting you guys here would be quicker. Right now SWAT has its hands full with a couple of bank robberies."
"Can we move it along?" Mobius Knight asked. "I haven't stabbed anyone today."
Sergeant Murphy's walrus-like mustache twitched. "New guy, huh?" he asked Heph, nodding towards the swordsman.
"No, he just has a violent streak is all. Based on previous experience watching out for a swordslinger, I just treat him like an early-model claymore mine."
"This Side Toward Enemy?" Murphy asked.
"No. 'Do Not Eat,'" Heph said with the hint of gallows humor that comes with being a field training officer.
Sergeant Murphy's face broke into a grin, and he started laughing. "Nice."
"So, where's Fang and what are we chasing?" Heph asked.
"He's in the building trying to take down this guy," Sergeant Murphy said as he handed over a photo to Heph and Moby.
"You've got to be kidding me," both heroes said in unison.
"No, you're going after one of the characters from the new City of Gyros Kids' Menu. The Gyrobber."
The Gyrobber was the latest in City of Gyros' new pantheon of kid-friendly mascots. He was dressed in the garb of a shepherd, but had a bandanna covering his face. He also carried a traditional Greek musical instrument with him, the bouzouki.
"Be careful. He's apparently armed with a bazooka," Murphy said.
"No, that's a bouzouki, a traditional stringed instrument that--" Moby began, only to duck as a rocket shot past his head and detonated on the side of a squad car, flipping it onto its other side. "I stand corrected!"
Heph started walking confidently towards the door of the old restaurant. "Come on, we've got another hero to save," he said.
Moby walked up alongside the big blue cyborg. "Heph, tell me why we get stuck in situations like this. Don't we have more paperwork to deliver?"
"Yeah, but being a hero always comes first. Besides, somebody's got to hunt down all the lame criminals."
Moby shook his head. "That's Fang's job, though, not ours!"
"Well, Fang needs backup," Heph said as he stepped up to the front door. "When he fails, someone has to pick up where he left off."
"But, it's the Gyrobber! How am I going to explain this to Terra?" Moby said. "What do I say, 'Hi honey, I just got done fighting the forces of Lame!' or something?"
Heph pulled back his mighty fist and punched the restaurant doors right in the center post of their frame, directly on the deadbolt lock that held the doors in place. The frame buckled and the safety glass shattered as the doors were popped loose from the locks. Moby swung the remnant of one door wide and stepped into the building.
"Kitchen first, then food storage, then restrooms," Heph said.
"Got it," Moby said. The two made their way quickly to the front counter, and the swordsman quietly climbed over the counter. He drew his katana and looked around.
"Any sign of him?" Heph whispered.
Mobius Knight sniffed twice. "Gyros. He's HERE."
From the other side of the ready lines, a plaintive groan wafted towards the heroes.
"So... hungry. So very... hungry! Your gyros or your life!"
"For the last time, I don't carry gyros with me!" the high-pitched voice of Fang snarled.
"Hungry enough... to kill!" the Gyrobber said, pointing his bazooka at Fang.
Mobius Knight leapt into action. "I DON'T GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS CRAP!" he shouted as charged around the corner and into the grilling area of the kitchen.
*The screen goes black with the caption "TO BE CONTINUED" in the center.*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Okay, somebody has to make a billboard for the Gyrobber now...
Any opinions expressed above are merely the poster's own and do not necessarily coincide with the goals or beliefs of the Secret Ruling Forum Cabal.
*We see Hephaestus 1 sitting in Larry McGonigle's office, waiting for a case. A can of new Red Beast INTENSITY energy drink sits on the desk next to him. He picks it up and reads the label.*
Voiceover: What does Hephaestus 1 think about new Red Beast INTENSITY energy drink?
*Heph pops open the can and sniffs warily at it. His mechanical "What the hell?" eyebrow pops up from over his center-mounted eye.*
Heph: It's... different-smelling.
Voiceover: That's right, Hephaestus 1! Red Beast INTENSITY smells different than normal Red Beast. Why? Because IT'S FILLED WITH INTENSITY!
Heph: Ooooookeydokey.
*The screen dissolves and Heph finds himself in front of a blinged-out M1 Abrams tank.*
Heph: Why is this tank done up in a metallic purple flake with gold lightning bolts on it? And who in their right mind put spinners on those road wheels?
Voiceover: BECAUSE RED BEAST INTENSITY IS LIKE DRIVING A BLINGED-OUT TANK... THROUGH A MINEFIELD OF KITTENS!
*Heph double-takes at that*
Heph: WHAT?
Kittens: Mew?
VOICEOVER: KITTENS WITH LASERS!
*the kittens light the tank up with laser fire as Hephaestus 1 dodges and grabs some cover*
Kittens: Mew!
Heph: What the hell is WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?
Voiceover: RED BEAST INTENSITY MAKES YOU DO THINGS GOODER!
*the screen flashes to bright red with "GRAMMAR IS FOR THE WEAK" in large black letters*
Voiceover: IT MAKES YOU DO THINGS GOODER... WITH YOUR FISTS! GO AHEAD! DRINK A RED BEAST INTENSITY AND LEARN THE ALPHABET!
*The screen goes red again with caption of "USING ONLY YOUR FISTS"*
Heph: I don't think that makes sense...
Voiceover: SHUT UP, CELEBRITY ENDORSER! RED BEAST INTENSITY ONLY USED YOU AS BAIT FOR OUR TARGET AUDIENCE!
*The screen goes red again: "Y'ALL GOT PUNKED!"*
Voiceover: RED BEAST INTENSITY HAS COMMAND OVER YOU! BUY! DRINK! KICK THIS ADORABLE KOALA IN THE FACE! KICK IT!
*A koala with a look of confused terror appears briefly followed by the caption "TOO SLOW, CHUNKY!"*
Voiceover: RED BEAST INTENSITY IS SO INTENSE IT'S GOT NUTRITION IN IT! DOES THAT MATTER? NO! WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU'LL HAVE A GIRLFRIEND JUST BY DRINKING RED BEAST INTENSITY!
*The red screen appears with the caption "AND SHE'S HOT, TOO. WE'RE JEALOUS"*
Heph: Mobius Knight put you guys up to this, didn't he?
Voiceover: MAYBE BUT WE'RE NOT TELLING UNLESS YOU BUY RED BEAST INTENSITY AND KILL THIS CLOWN WITH A CHAINSAW!
*A clown appears*
Clown: Honk?
Voiceover: A CHAINSAW... MADE OF FISTS!
*The screen goes red again with the caption "THINGS GO BETTER WITH FISTS"*
Heph: I'm not drinking your product. It smells weird.
Voiceover: THAT'S JUST CIVET URINE WE STRAINED FOR PURITY!
Clown: DUDE! I just drank one of those!
*The screen goes red again with the caption "IT'S UREA-LICIOUS, SUCKAZ!"*
Heph: Wait, you drank one?
Clown: Yeah. I don't feel so--
*The clown bursts into flame and runs around in a festive panic*
Clown: Honk honk! I'M ON FIRE!
Voiceover: NO CLOWN CAN CONTAIN THE INTENSITY!
Heph: Huh. First day with Fire Armor, I see...
Clown: Small Intestine... carbonizing!
Heph: Yeah, I hear it'll do that sometimes.
*The caption appears: "CLOWNS CAN'T HANG, YO"*
Voiceover: NEW RED BEAST INTENSITY! YOUR SEXUAL PROWESS WILL BE MIGHTY WITH JUST ONE SIP! UNLESS YOU'RE A CLOWN AND THEN YOU'LL BURST INTO FLAAAAME!
Heph: Who the hell booked me for this? Come on, laser kittens, I'll teach you how to pick off Crey snipers in Founders Falls.
Kittens: Mew!
Clown: Little... help... here... guys?
New Voiceover: Red Beast Intensity may not actually work for you like it did all the other guys in which case you're a sissy-pants loser. Follow all instructions on the can, including the one that says "Do Not Drink." Red Beast Intensity is meant purely for show, not for actual human consumption. This drink is known to cause clowns who drink it to spontaneously combust 100 percent of the time.
*The screen goes black and into another commercial*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
[You're making trouble in my office again. Boss said something about the hysterical giggling]
Part of Sister Flame's Clickey-Clack Posse
The English language is an intricate high-speed precision tool.Stop using it to bang open coconuts. ~Tokamak
Dark_Respite's Video page
Jan. 12, 2008
Dear Diary,
I've met so many people!
I was worried when I got like this, with powers and stuff, that I would be alone. Like all by myself. But I'm not! It's almost like being in high school again!
There's this girl named Sadie who has a like a green thumb all over and has these cool plant powers like I've never seen before.
I met her the same day I met Aden. He does this thing where he disappears. He calls it "ducking sideways".
And there's Gina, who as soon as we met we started talking and it was like instant BFF! She has this mask that's like superglued on and she wishes she could take it off but it puts a restraint on her psi powers and she probably shouldn't take it off or she would turn the whole of Etoile into zombies or something.
There's Wintermind, who refuses to tell anybody his real name and gives a different name every time you see him. When I first met him, he said his name was "Steve McGarrett". The next time he was "Bill Shatner". He says he has mind powers. I think he's just mental.
There's a girl named Kitt. She can do all sorts of stuff. It's like she doesn't know there's such a thing as the laws of physics and stuff.
Jack is a rich kid who seems full of secrets. I don't know him well at all yet. He's got this darkness to him. Say no more.
Missy and Emma aren't from this universe. They're not from the same universe either though. Apparently there's lots of universes and it makes me wish I had paid better attention in physics.
Emma seems to have taken up with this guy, Ken. Ken's asian. He's an awesome figther who can focus his "she" power. (I don't even know what that means, but I'm pretty sure that's how Emma says he fights so powerfully.) I think him and Emma might have "done it" but I don't want to think about that, because it doesn't matter how old Emma says she is (she claims she's really older than I am!), she still looks like somebody's kid sister and I think she's too young. I just hope Ken's not using his "she" power on her.
But there's one special person I've met. His name is Tristan and swear to God he looks just like Johnny Depp in that old show, 21 Jump Street! He's so deep. He was in love once and the girl broke his heart and now he's got so much pain inside. You can see it in his eyes. I think I'm in love with him.
We all had one thing in common -- we didn't really have anybody else. We needed a name and somebody suggested Orphans. I think Sadie liked it alot. She started graffittiing it all over the place.
I have friends. I'm popular again. I'm in love. No trigonometry! It's better than high school!
Gosh, life is so good!