The All Purpose Tokusatsu Fan Fiction Thread

Jack and the other SPD rangers showed Ban and other officers the Downtown Eastside area of Vancouver. Despite the reconstruction efforts made by the city government over the years, parts of it are still occupied by the poor and the homeless. As such, it was the perfect place for Alienizer criminals to use as their base of operations in the western part of Canada.

"I had no idea that a lot of homeless people would live here." Hoji commented as he looked around to see the homeless line up to get free food from a mobile soup kitchen.

"You'll have to thank the local politicians." Sky said, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Most of them just wanted to see them gone, but others have stepped into help."

"So are we meeting someone, Sky-san?" Jasmine asked the Canadian SPF officer.

"Just Sky. I insist." Sky told Jasmine before he continued. "And yeah, we have an informant in the eastside who may have information on whoever took the Wellness Stone."

"There he is now..." Jack pointed out a strange alien who looked like a monkey with two holes in his head greeting customers to his food stall.

"Who is he?" Umeko was very suspicious about meeting the alien.

"No need to fear, guys." Z reassured her Japanese counterparts. "This is Piggy. Jack and I know him from way back from when we were delinquents."

Piggy sighed when he saw the rangers. The customers who got orders from Piggy's stall immediately decided to get their food (if they made the order) or told Piggy that they need to be somewhere else first.

"Look Z..." Piggy glared at her. "I know that you want to let your colleague get some food from me, but can you do it maybe later? You're scaring my best customers away from me."

"This is important, Piggy." Jack glared at Piggy back to keep him quiet. "We need to get information on the Wellness Stone."

"The what now stone?" Piggy asked the African-American officer, trying to look dumbfounded after he heard the stone's name.

"The Wellness Stone. Don't try to weasel your way out of this one."

Piggy kept silent.

Jasmine sighed and approached Piggy while she took off the glove from her left hand. "Hold him, please."

Jack and Z nodded and held Piggy's arm so that he won't leave.

"W-wait!! What are you doing? I have rights! I'll complain to the mayor about your...!" Piggy began to shout, worried that he'll be attacked by Jasmine. Instead, the officer placed her hand on his in order to examine his memories.

Jasmine saw flashes of the alien's memories up to a few days when he met with a person wearing a trenchcoat and a fedora hat, asking for details on the Wellness Stone's location in Japan.

"He knows something." Jasmine eyed Piggy before she wore her glove again. "He met someone wearing a coat and hat, who asked about the stone."

"Okay...okay...!" Piggy said after Jasmine found out about his meeting. "I'll talk. Just don't hurt me..."

"You won't be talking for long!"

Four Blue-Head Krybots showed up in front of the rangers. Their mere presence had scared the civilians away, mostly due to SPF warnings that these beings are considered dangerous and that they should not be approached.

"It's those blue Krybots!" Bridge shouted when he was got out his SP License.

"Shit!" Piggy yelled when he closed the shop in order to hide and get away.

"You're not getting to him, you piece of junk!" Sky challenged the Krybot when he stepped up to face them.

"We don't want him." One of the blue Krybots shook his head for emphasis before he raised his arm gun at Piggy's shop. "We're here to kill him."

Despair is courage. Apathy, resolve. Nihilism, the appreciation of life in all its splendor.

This... is a tale of a disillusioned head case, whose spirit was crushed beneath the weight of his own ideals. A nihilist, who desperately looks for hope and justice where he believes there is none. An idealistic fool, who can only take pride in meaningless things.

This tale, too, is meaningless - what you do with it is of no consequence.

But then, if there is no consequence, then that means you're free to do with it as you will. Stay and read it? Ignore it? Mock it? It doesn't matter, so just do whatever pleases you.

If you want to... you may even choose to enjoy it.

____

The year is 200X. The locale, metropolitan Japan.

Our narrative features on a young male in his early 20s, very clearly [I]not[/I] Japanese. Hair's a mess, hasn't shaved in a couple of days, and the default expression beneath those glasses is a surly one. He's a bit out of shape compared to his days as a teenager, his endurance and agility having waned enough to be a sore point with him.

With this information, an introspective person might assume a bitter and/or apathetic introvert, who hates dealing with people in any shape or form. Alternately, given the paunch at his stomach but the slightly above-average definition and musculature in his arms, perhaps the more likely first impression might be that he's some kind of American tavern-trash that got lost on his tour.

In the first case, they'd be partly wrong. In the second case, they'd be entirely wrong - he despises alcohol, claiming that he'd visit a children's pharmacy if ever he felt like drinking cough syrup, and has never set foot in a drinking establishment in his life.

Really, his attire doesn't do him much service either. Partly-ripped-up jeans and worn-out sneakers, all in black? The comparatively nice button-up shirt can only do so much, son.

After a moment or two, he pulls out his phone - not to contact anyone, but to check the time with it, as he neglects to ever wear and keep track of a watch. "Another ten minutes," he grumbles, and then pulls up a list of contacts. Fumbling slightly - he's never cared much for texting, but his inexplicable preference for flip-phones only serves to make it less convenient than it could otherwise be - he types in a simple message: ETA?

No sooner than he can send it, he collapses to one knee, grimacing in pain. He doesn't utter a sound, though - he's "trained" himself on countless stubbed toes, careless collisions with furniture, and other clumsy accidents, so that he can endure a great degree of injury in total silence.

Besides, his expression does the non-verbal cursing on his behalf.

The man's vision fades in and out, a blinding light stabbing through his mind, making it hard for him to think, as a single compulsion begins to cover his consciousness.

"Dammit all, not now..."

Despite his complaints, he turns in a seemingly random direction, and starts running - either unwilling or unable to resist the mental compulsion placed upon him.

After a few minutes, he arrives in a deserted back alleyway, where an unfortunate victim has been half-eaten by what can only be described as a demon, straight from the bowels of Hell itself.

Doubtless it took the form of a female, but presently it's quite the grotesque one. Bent over backwards on all four limbs, the forearms having become legs in their own right; the head having split open, with great horrible teeth extending from each side.

On top of its body, where a woman's breasts would be, have extended into gnarled and spindly arms, with end with grasping claws.

The creature is, truly and absolutely, like something born out of a nightmare. It is the kind of sight that, over the past few weeks, our protagonist has become used to.

A bright, blinding light erupts from his waist, at the point where a belt buckle would be, before a belt in its entirety appears around him.

As if in a trance, he strikes a pose and says, "Transform."

A momentary distortion of light, and the man has vanished. In his place, stands Agito.

With a hot-blooded shout, the figure attacks his hellish foe with a kick to its head.

It is the beginning of yet another meaningless battle.

Even if he defeats the enemy before him, he knows that the world around him is doomed with an inescapable fate.

Before he arrived in Japan, and began these meaningless battles... If he were asked about the future, he would freeze up in terror at the uncertainty and vagueness of it all.

But not here, not in this world. Indeed, it is [I]because [/I]of the inevitable fate of armageddon, that he feels free from consequences.

Because he thinks his actions won't matter at all in the grand scheme of things, that gives him the freedom to do what he wishes.

It is true, certainly, that he has trouble communicating with people except in the context of popular media.

It is true, that his own beliefs, once they clashed with reality, drove him to stop believing in anything.

He is the kind of negative person who can't truly or honestly believe [I]anything [/I]positive of himself, even in jest.

But for all of this, one other thing is also true.

His hopes, and dreams, even if he thinks them to be futile and worthless... they are all of "justice".

In this world, he believes he can do what he wants without consequence, because everything will be destroyed regardless.

Because everything will be destroyed one day, it must be enjoyed and wondered at while it still lasts.

Many people would use this pessimistic logic to justify working deeds of evil, but this person... this incredibly bizarre person...

If he had his way, he'd rather try and be a hero.

Like, renaming them but keeping their original name