Like I used to do back at the Negima thread, I'll keep on posting my Unequally...
updates here for critics and refining before completing the chapters and posting them at FF.Net. If that's okay with everyone, of course.
First, more of the standard insane crossover fare and ominous foreshadowing. Including a recasting twist born out of hell itself.
177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village.
Stephen Strange stood calmly perusing through the ancient tomes of his library. Book after book, for the last few hours, without ever saying a single word.
Wong's figure stood at the doorway then, with his arms crossed behind his back.
"Master," the Tibetan man announced, "As much as I hate to interrupt your estimulating research binges, I must bring you news of a visit."
"Tell the Guardian to come in, Wong," Strange absently nodded, closing a thick manuscript down. "I knew it would come to this eventually."
"Very well, Sir," the manservant respectfully bowed before leaving. "Ring the bell if you need tea, snacks, your lawyer's number, or... private protection."
The taller man sighed. Had Wong ever been that... special... in past iterations?
Regardless, there was no time for such trivail considerations. not when the woman carrying the long, thin Key of Time itself calmly strode into the room, with the aplomb and subtle majesty befitting her role.
She had short blond hair, and a black mole under her left eye. Cold green eyes, and a svelte, appealing body, still youthful and healthy, showcased by her short skirted outfit, with tall and shiny black boots, a large bow over her chest, and a golden tiara on her forehead.
He coldly focused his eyes on hers. "Doctor Akagi."
"Stephen," she greeted back. "It's been a while."
"If you say so," With a polite gesture, he invited her to sit down, a chair moving itself near her. She accepted it gracefully, never letting her staff aside, always keeping it firmly gripped.
"Thank you," the woman said. "No doubt, you already know why am I here."
"Mahora," Strange spoke.
"Mahora," she confirmed. "I'm going to keep a close eye this time."
"I can't say I approve," he dryly said, pulling a chair of his own and sitting down as well. "You, more than anyone else, should be aware of the need of not interfering."
"I know the world of mages is strictly under your supervision, but this situation in particular has spilled over well into our domain by now," the woman countered. "This can't keep itself for long, and you know it. I'm sorry."
He slowly shook his head, his chin vaguely resting on the back of a hand. His eyes were quiet but deeply cynical, like those of someone who has seen too much. "No, you aren't. And you probably shouldn't be. Maybe, after all, I'm the one who is in the wrong here."
He breathed deeply. "I won't attempt to stop you. You have your ways, different from those of Meioh Setsuna. It doesn't mean I agree with them, but I can respect them. And place a vote of trust upon you."
"I wouldn't have accepted this role if I hadn't fully believed I could live up to her legacy. Thats' exactly why do I have do this. Rest assured, the Gate of Time will be safe during my absence."
He nodded. "I know. That isn't what concerns me."
"Then exactly what?"
"The same thing that concerns you. This time, we cannot predict the outcome. This time, the outline is all but impossible to follow."
"I'll supervise it personally, then," she promised. "And I'll stop them if I need to."
Stephen Strange hummed thoughtfully. "Just pray your protector planet that doesn't just open the door... for something much worse, Sailor Pluto."
And then, more of that morally ambiguous and overall nebulous skewed relationship development:
Next Saturday Night:
As much as Chamo had insisted on the need of training in the use of Artifacts, especially together, it had been truly difficult, borderlining the nearly impossible, to pull that off. They simply had nowhere to do that. Misora's club had meeting every other day, and finding a large empty lot away from curious eyes at a superpopulated campus had proved to be a task beyond any of the team members' capacities.
The team, Chisame thought as she lazily tapped on her keyboard. It was so weird to think of them as that. Maybe 'Desperate Temporal Alliance to Survive' would be more accurate, although Sensei and the other idiots seemed to be almost warming up to the notion of becoming a group now.
Regardless, she, at the very least, had found a good use for her own Artifact. With the mice's help, she had boosted her webpage's popularity to astonishing levels; from getting links all across the Web to improve her layout and image quality to degrees she never had thought possible. Kotokon's page had been left behind in the dust.
Chamo, of course, had been angry about her wasting time on that instead of using her Artifact for offense and defense practices, but she had silenced him out with a few fine cosplay pics.
Satomi had tested her Artifact with the Robotics Club a few times, passing it off as a design of her own creation. The results, she had said, were nothing short of amazing; she could benchpress nearly a ton or something like that, not to mention punching holes through walls, blah, blah, blah. That was the scary part. The scarier part was she was talking about improving upon it herself. The scariest part was Chisame was sure she could do it.
Misora had a harder time with hers, since it was a pain to find a place where to run faster than the Road Runner without bumping into something or, worse, someone. But at least, she had said, it had secretly made finishing her chores at the church a lot faster and easier. Much more time to waste around doing nothing with Cocone afterward. Whoever 'Cocone' was. Sensei had said something about her being a friend of Misora.
Still, they should have a few more days left to find a practice place until the next full moon. With any luck, Eva wouldn't attack her even during that first full moon. Maybe she only was boasting, even! Yeah, fat chance.
Chisame sighed while she turned her computer off. The fruits of the Internet victory were highly sweet to munch onto, but after enjoying them, she actually felt somewhat empty. It had been to easy. It robbed her from a lot of the thrill, of the challenge.
Her gaze wandered over to Hakase, sleeping on the lower bunk without any care in the world, drooling out of a corner of her mouth. As usual, the brat had sleepwalked over to lie at her side, right where he slept now clutching Satomi's blue pajama-clad body like a koala hugging its tree.
Hasegawa breathed out, undoing her ponytail so her long hair flowed down. For a moment she only stood there, relatively fresh off the shower, wearing only her panties and a very long white shirt, the top two buttons off revealing some developing cleavage, which covered past down her crotch and until the middle of her thighs. If the brat could see her then, she would have freaked out (almost as much as him), but as it was now, she actually could bear it.
The ermine slept heavily in his pilfered underwear drawer. Good thing, too. That at least kept him out of hers.
Chisame paused before going up to her bunk, watching at both of her placidly sleeping human roommates.
Sensei had not slept with her in days. Was it a result of Hakase's bed simply being more at hand, or did he, for some reason, just prefer her nightly company?
Eh. As if Chisame cared.
Still, she didn't move yet.
She hugged her upper body. The night was cold.
For a moment, she wondered how would it feel... to...
The teenager debated what to do with herself for a few moments, and in a full state of good mind, her rational part would have won fair and square. But she was sleepy and feeling cold, and for some stupid reason, snuggling over with them looked like a good idea. Only for a few brief moments, yeah. No more.
Just to know how would it feel like. For that once, and nothing more.
Quietly, in a perfect silence, she wobbled ahead working herself into the bed. Awkwardly, she maneuvered her body behind Sensei's, lying down touching his back with her chest, very slightly. He squirmed a bit, made an incoherent sound, but never opened his eyes. Half-satisfied with the result, she passed an arm over him, then to lazily envelope it over Hakase's petite frame as well.
And it felt good.
It was so freaking wrong.
She was holding them both close to her, and it was disgusting and stupid and bothersome, but at the same time, it just felt too warm and comforting to describe it with words.
She closed her eyes, muttering to herself. She only would enjoy a hour or two of that, then go back to her own bunk and forget all that ever happened. Yes, now that was a good plan! A really great one, yessir.
She slowly fell asleep with her chin coming to rest upon Negi's right shoulder.
edited 4th Nov '10 3:42:26 PM by NapoleonDeCheese
There's a difference between your inner child and your inner manchild.