Character Memorial

"Very well." Damian unsheathes the sword again. "I see some sense in that. Imaginary lines almost always work for children."

Couldn't cross the line, eh?

Kali stuck a hand in the sleeve of her red leather jacket. It looked like she was grasping at something. After a minute, there was a small clicking noise, and she made an aha! expression. Out from her sleeve came a six-foot length of cheese-wire. Flicking her wrist, Kali brought the gleaming death metal to life, snaking it around her arm. In a flash, it zipped across the plaza, cutting a neat patch of Damian's hair right off.

"I'd have told you to sit still, but you probably would've just squirmed more. Wouldn't want you to lose an eye and an ear, now would we?" she said, bagging the hair. "See there, ya old curmudgeon? Done, quick and easy."

edited 22nd Nov '11 10:25:04 AM by KSPAM

"I didn't give permission!" Damian feels the bald spot. "I look ridiculous!"

He waves his cane threateningly. "No more tomfoolery from you, or I swear, you'll pay."

Alex looked first at Kali and then back to Damian.

"That's first blood," said Alex.

"I promiii~iiise!" Smiling, she shoved the baggie in her pocket. "But are you sure you don't want me to finish? That was kind of a botched job, and I pride myself on being a professional when it comes to hairstyling."

Obvious bullshit, given her current "hairstyle", but the irony of the situation was lost on Kali, who just stood there, flicking the wire into animal shapes.

"May I remind you I have a gun?"

"OK, so, not dead then. Dreaming, maybe?" thought Michael. He looked around at his surroundings to make sure that he was still in the Washington that he knew. Things seemed pretty similar. The buildings were still nondescript, the weather was still awful, the Washington Monument was... intact. That was different. That was very different.

"Ok, I'm definitely dreaming, then," he said. "Nothing I've seen here belongs in the real world, at least as far as I know it."

"You and the entire state of Texas." Kali snarked back. "Don't worry about me, I've got what I want. So thanks." She tiptoed over the line and gave Damian a quick peck on the cheek.

"A token of my gratitude." she said, smirking.

edited 22nd Nov '11 12:12:56 PM by KSPAM

Damian instinctively swings his fist at Kali when he registers physical contact.

"I could have you executed for that!"

"Wow, someone reeeaaaaalllllyyyy needs to get laid. You're not a kid anymore old man, I thought we'd be past the whole 'cooties' phase by now." She chuckled, sticking her tongue out.

"I don't think you can execute people for sexual harassment," said Alex, "But still."

The ground began to warp slightly.

"Physical assault," Damian growls, pointing at his bald spot. "And I'm a noble."

Alex paused, opening his mouth and then closing his mouth again, the ground still shifting.

Then he said. "I wish I was a noble."

"You don't."

Damian frowns and borrows Cornelius's sight again.

"What's wrong with the ground? Are you doing this, boy?"

The ground flattened, as if nothing happened.

"No," said Alex.

"Don't wish," Brittany said to Alex, "Nobles are assholes." Noah had to agree with her, the nobles of his race were unbelievably pretentious, egotistical and somewhat psychotic... a lot like himself really, but at least he helped people.

"So was I, when I was mortal. Then quantum foam happened and things sort of got fucked. Point is, it's best not to get so hung up on titles. But still, technically I am..." She trailed off, clearly amused by leading Damian around on a string.

"Besides, I didn't assault you, I give you a freaking haircut. I even offered to fix it up for you. Get over yourself, man."

edited 22nd Nov '11 12:41:41 PM by KSPAM

"They write books on amusing court cases because most of my ancestors didn't have a sense of humor. And neither do I."

Damian lays the cane across his lap.

"I don't want to be this generation's Percival Geier, so kindly leave me alone."

Liena shook her head again. "uhhhhh...no? Not dreaming?"

Maybe he had traveled through time! That was a possibility!

"Maybe you're a time traveler!"

Vancer snorted at this postulation.

"The fuck's that? Sounds like a screaming eunuch with a rectal hemorrhage." Kali quipped dryly.

Rummaging through her bottomless bag of goodies (courtesy of Munich and good ol' Saint Nick), Kali pulled out, in order, an accordion-esque folding chair, endtable, bucket of ice, and a bottle of expensive looking wine. She pried open the folding chair, stretching it out into a bench around the endtable, and uncorked the the wine with her teeth.

"Aged Il Palazzone. Great taste, better kick. Any takers?"

edited 22nd Nov '11 1:43:26 PM by KSPAM

Am was stunned at the endless bag in awe. Yeah, sure, there was a bunch of weird stuff there, but they could be explained easily. But... "How...? What if you drop something in there, don't realize it, and then have to dig through tons of stuff later? What happens if you pour it all out onto the ground?"

"Eh, probably an avalanche. I had to chunk a glacier to keep this thing chilled." Kali said. "All old man Claus told me about the bag was that it would store and categorize my collection. Then he kinda kicked me off the pole. Probably something to do with how getting the elves high "does not increase worker productivity"."

edited 22nd Nov '11 2:16:00 PM by KSPAM

Michael thought for a second, before realizing that he was actually seriously considering the possibility that he'd been transported through time. "No way, not possible," he said. "Just because this place hasn't looked like this for 25 years doesn't mean that I managed to accidentally jump back through time. It still looks like 'I'm dreaming' is the most plausible explanation."

Cornelius smiled at Michael. "Trust me. Traveling back through time is probably one of the less unusual things that's happened today. I'm not even from this universe. Assuming you're not dreaming, of course. If you are, then what does that make me? Because as far as I can tell, I'm sentient and self-aware."

He paused and thought things over. "But, from your perspective, if you're dreaming, everything else is a byproduct of your subconscious, so I would be a part of you. In which case, I probably represent the postmodern part. Are you interested in postmodernism at all?"

Michael's head was starting to poind. If this wasn't a dream - no, that was impossible. It had to be a dream. It had to be. He found himself struggling to keep his balance. He collapsed on Cornelius, then pulled himself up and managed to shamble out of the plaza. When he looked back, he saw it empty and roped off again. Looking out a bit, he saw that the Washington Monument was back to its regular, destroyed state. Shaken, he decided that now would be a great time to go home early and make sure that he never went out drinking with that arms dealer again.