(Avatar by Coffee)
One moment, Akechi Mitsuhide, a retainer of the Demon King Oda Nobunaga, was looking down on Orochi's still-flaming body. Takeda Shingen has left the clearing, announcing the beginning of a new era, and his rival Uesugi Kenshin followed on his heels promising glorious war. The next he was standing in a cave that someone renovated with southern Barbarian furniture which was thrashed afterwards. What's more, he wasn't alone; the collection of personages gathered with him was shabbier than the coalition his master Lord Nobunaga had gathered to fight Orochi.
His none-too-favourable opinion was further lowered by a man — at least he thought it was a man, it could've been a demon under that bizarre armour for all he knew — appeared from thin air mid-stride and proceeded to jam himself into a wall in a display of both speed and lack of breaking ability.
Still, it usually paid to be polite. Mitsuhide approached the stuck man and offered him his hand. "I will try to dislodge you," he informed him.
You wake up, around 8 to 11 o'clock, because you generally don't have reason to get up early. Your circadian rhythm is a bit off anyway. You crawl out of the hole from your bedroom and into your mundane bedroom, stretching and shaking off any bits of meat that got stuck on you. You open the blinds and see that it's a beautiful morning, and you couldn't be happier to see that the sun's still rising, as it has for as long as you can remember. You have a feeling it's going to be a productive day.
You get out of your fancy silk pajamas and into the shower. Once done, you have one of only three activities cemented on your planner to do: breakfast. You head down to the kitchen, and as usual your personal secretary Bill is waiting there. He's a younger gentleman, kind fellow, and since you rarely leave the house neither does he. He's always been used to your peculiarities, if only because you pay him more monthly than the average franchisee makes yearly. Bill's a lot better than your maidservant. She still stares at you when she's convinced you wouldn't notice. In any case, considering he gives up so much for his job, it's only proper that you repay him by cooking him breakfast every day. He waves from behind his newspaper as you walk in, and you groggily wave back, your fingernails accidentally swiping the chandelier.
You make him hearty beef sausage, scrambled eggs, bacon. The usual, but he seems to enjoy it as much as he did the first time. You both made a pact that he is the one to make his own toast. The fact that you can actually mess up using a toaster is still a sore spot. For you, it's also the same thing as usual. You grab a plate, make a slab of meat fall on it, and consume. Repeat until hunger is satiated. You're particularly peckish since you skipped dinner last night, so you decide to eat twelve portions. Between the six and seventh, your little chihuahua Rojo comes up for belly rubs. You lean down and very, very carefully rub your palm on his tummy. He enjoys it. He makes little grumbling sounds of pure ecstasy. There used to be a time where he was so frightened of you he almost suffered a heart attack when you walked in, but now he's calm. He's a good boy. You suddenly fall flat on your ass.
Susan's dog sadly went without further belly rubs that day. The owner in question winced as she fell on hard on the linoleum, gingerly rubbing her backside before opening her eyes. This...wasn't her kitchen at all.
She looked around, because there were quite a few people here, most of them looking absolutely nothing like normal people... and some were definitely not people, for that matter. This whole situation had suddenly become entirely and utterly confusing, and considering that she had just woken up a few minutes ago she was so out of it that she was dazedly staring around. Susan really didn't have much to say about this, beyond a quiet "What?"
Someone asked for help, and turning around Susan saw that he really looked like he needed it. Unable to answer just about any of the many questions, the only normal thing thought that came into her head was "why don't you go over and help him?" A very out of place asian man was already trying to pull him out of the wall he got himself stuck in, and Susan got over to his other hand. "...On three, I guess?" Whether or not he understood it was unknown, but she was going to pull anyway. "One, two..." she said as she yanked hard on the man's hand, trying to do her best not to cut him with her fingernails. "THREE!"
edited 3rd Jul '16 3:29:07 PM by wikkit
Witchcraft!
Vaguely, Ami felt her foot impact something soft and fleshy, but she paid it no mind. Rather, the rowdy albino witch paid whoever she'd just kicked no mind, because she most certainly paid mind to the fact that she could not - should not - have just kicked someone. This... place was not where she should have been. It had been the beginning of summer break, and she'd been the first out of the dorms in her rush to see her mama and papa again. She'd been kicking the front door of Asagami open - and suddenly she was here.
"Aero!" She snapped. In an instant, the already dishevelled room became even more of a mess as a raging gale consumed it. All within would find themselves struggling to remain standing and in place as the winds buffeted them. Except Ami Kuzuki, standing... well, not serenely, exactly, but at least unaffected by her own spell, in the figurative and nearly literal eye of the storm.
"Who the hell is responsible for this!?" She demanded. She'd been only a train ride away from seeing her mama and papa again after so long at that dreary, uptight school and now this? She wasn't going to let this stand.
"I'm gonna-" She was interrupted by a voice from her phone. She yanked it out of her schoolbag with far more force than necessary and held it up to her ear.
"How's this for a response? Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck were you thinking, kidnapping me!?"
At the same time, the effects of the Aero spell disappeared as quickly as they'd started.
Glory to Arachnos
Every since the..transformation.The voice of a stranger echoed on Yi's mind, often demanding him not to tr—
DO NOT TRUST CORRUPTED MEMORIES.
...Was this a memory he could not trust?
The last thing he remembered was fighting...Zed..that was his name, alongside with...Fiora and Lucian. The three were fighting against the still brainwashed PROJECT: Unit until...the world fell apart..like memories.
Memories....like shadows in the fog.
Instead of a advanced technological city, he found himself in an underground and ransacked area....with people he does not remember.
Not at all.
The PROJECT only stared at the area and the others, not saying or doing nothing for a long while, until he looked at his hyperlight blade he was currently holding with his right hand, and finally spoke.
"Have....have I died?"
Yi said to himself, his face hidden by his helmet, but the confusion and doubt in his voice was apparent.
edited 3rd Jul '16 4:03:13 PM by Darkomega245
-Spider Lizard Noises-
Toa of Anarchy
The inscrutable question, the singular question, the question with a quest in its tail.
Coast City was beautiful at night, not least from above. It had taken about a year or two, but Dick Grayson had found the perfect spot on the perfect ledge on the perfect skyscraper to stand with cane over shoulders, and marvel at all the constellations of light pollution spread out below. The jutting spires of corporate ambition, the noisy roads carving up the metropolis, and all the neon lights and glowing windows in all the different shades of yellow and white, or, more and more recently, purple and green. Almost enough to make a guy feel flattered.
'course, the green motif could just be for his old colleague and mentor, off saving the world someplace, averting a hurricane or watering Africa or something like that. Still, Dick liked to think that he was worming his way into the many hearts of the city. After all, Weather Wizard could save the world a hundred times over, but the Riddler was there for the little guy. Be it tracking down some missing relative, helping a pretty face out of some dangerous relationship, or making sure those corporate fat cats stayed on the straight and narrow, there was always some bit of cleaning up to do in the city's grimy underbelly...
Aw, who was he kidding? Dick loved this city. Couldn't brood about it if he wanted to. It had always been good to him by and by, always provided some soft landing to break his fall, always gave a warm bed to... speaking of beds. Dick pulled a tablet out of a safe pocket, and checked to see what was first on the docket. Wealthy executive suspects husband of infidelity. Always a fun one. Scope out the scene, get to know Mr Wandering Willy inside and out, script a good sting operation and boom-bada-bing. After that, there was that subpoena needed serving. Needed to get that out of the way so he could get a head start on the missing mommy case. He hated seeing two little girls cry.
All right, the night was young, the blood was high, and there was a room all ready for rifling. Riddler pocketed his tablet, adjusted his mask, and turned for the far side of the ledge. One good sprint, then it was three leaps and bounds until he could get down to the next block over. He executed them flawlessly, even getting the chance to work a backflip into the third. Then, the next roof in sight, he sprinted to the edge, made a death defying leap...
...and landed badly on his ankle, tumbling three feet to a halt, as the ground appeared far sooner than expected and caught him by surprise. A moment or two was needed to gulp down the surge of pained frustration, before he could get a chance to look up and get his bearings. It was at this point that he noticed the unusual texture on the ground, the sudden change in lighting, the relatively stuffier quality to the air, and more to the point, the completely alien environment of a ruined underground bunker.
'What does it all mean?' I ask you, set on the lines or read between.
As he came to grips with the fact that he wasn't in Kansas anymore, Dick rolled onto a sitting position, massaging his ankle, and took stock of his fellow residents. So far, this included a lime green space marine, a pretty boy in purple with flowing hair, a lanky horned woman in red, a grey haired one-eyed schoolgirl, and a robot with an impressive ponytail, all of whom seemed as confused as him to be there. The first two were also trying to dislodge the space marine from the wall. He felt the urge to insert some kind of joke about Winnie the Pooh in rabbit's front door, but before he could act upon it, there was a sudden ringing in his ear. An earpiece he'd forgotten about, usually tuned to police scanners, was suddenly receiving an unfamiliar call.
Dick put a finger to his ear. "Yello, City Morgue, you kill 'em, we chill 'em," he managed through grunts of pain as he sat up. Feeling about on the ground beside him, he managed to grab his trusty cane, and prop himself up as he ascended. The robot then asked if it was dead. "God, I hope not," Dick replied, "'cause if we are, I just had the most embarrassing death scene ever." Now, to attend to the many different questions buzzing through his mind, starting with the obvious.
Where the hell was he?
What walks with three legs in the evening?
What relevance did these people bear to him?
Why is a raven like a writing desk?
Would the voice on the other end have any answers for him?
And what have I got in my pockets?
Dick began to have a horrible feeling that the answer...would be another Riddle.
edited 3rd Jul '16 4:07:56 PM by LizardOfAus
Lady's day was progressing as was normal for her.
BOOM
The job had been simple enough. Some idiot in an expensive mansion had tried to summon a demon to serve him. He had succeeded.....in the first half, anyway. The only evidence of the guy Lady had found left was a bloodstain that extended across the length of the room she was now in, a grand ballroom. And in the center, a giant, electrified demon. One of the tougher variants, Quick, powerful, and nearly impossible to engage with a blade while its lightning cloak was up. Lady smirked as her continued philosophy of using guns in favor of swords continued to pay off. By this point, the thing was nearly dead, signaled by the fact the lightning was now blood red and that his speed had increased even more. The thing then teleported right in front of her face with a bolt of lightning. It roared, swinging to impale her.
BANG
Then Lady unloaded her shotgun directly into its face without any hesitation. A final roar came out of it as it rose into the air and started shaking. Lady did a quick backflip out of range as it exploded into a gory mess. Lady took a moment to wipe a bit of demon blood off of her face with a disgusted scowl, then turned to leave the room and collect on the payment.
It was at that moment everything changed. Finding herself suddenly teleported into another location, Lady's shotgun, conveniently still in her hand, came up and at the ready. seeing no direct threat, Lady readied her missile launcher as well, placing it across her shoulders with her other arm. a voice rang out, and before Lady could reply, another girl nearby yelled, expressing much the same sentiment she was planning on. She smiled and turned toward Ami.
"Ya, I can hear you, whatever the hell you are. I'm with her." She said as she pointed at Ami. "I was a little busy on a job, so what the hell gives? I don't know who the hell you are, but for your sake I hope you have a damn good explanation for this." She said as she flipped open her shotgun, ejecting the empty shells she had spend a moment ago on the demon.
sword of promised halp
If you want to know, I've died three times. I died once with a red lance in my chest, the point flickering all jellyfish-like. I died another time in a cavern. My swords were arcing through a woman's breastplate when my mind broke. A bit like a champagne flute.
Then there was the first time, with the fire. Which, to be honest, wasn't really a death, at least not in the real, actual-death sense, but…
I don't like to think about the fire too much. It's pretty confusing.
My name is Emiya Shirou. I don't know why I'm alive, because the last thing I remember is my mind exploding. I don't know why I'm lying on the floor of this garage, or why there's all these people around me, or why there's a man in the wall, or why there are paintings everywhere. All I know is that I'm wearing the old white-blue raglan shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, and that the Shroud of Martin is on my neck, blowing like a red scarf in the sudden gale.
The robot-looking man with the white beard asks if he's alive.
"Well, I don't know if you are, but I'm pretty sure I am."
I mull the statement over and decide to clarify.
"I think. You really shouldn't swear so much."
This next statement goes at the schoolgirl. Something about her seems like it should be familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.
"I mean, you're a girl, after all. Here, Mister, let me help you get out of that -"
I stand up. The world decides that up is actually two-hundred-and-eighty-three degrees to the right and I land flat on my face. Concrete hurts, and I think my lungs are empty, but I'm used to that. I push myself up, but only manage a weird wavy flop, like a beached dolphin with only one flipper.
Then I look down and realise that my left sleeve is as flat as a pancake.
"Oh."
edited 3rd Jul '16 7:00:55 PM by troydenite
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
Yeeeeah! Uh-huh! Wiz Khalifa Knows What It Is!
The Gotham City streets were much quieter these days. Ever since High Councillor Superman and the One Earth government had taken control of the city, crime had been practically eradicated. The Joker was long dead, and most of the city's other super-criminals had either become agents of the law or been locked away in Arkham Asylum. Even the purse-snatchers and carjackers rarely went without being caught. So if the night sky was full of strange yellow lights and explosions—as it was tonight—then people were guaranteed to notice.
Nightwing—or, as those close to him knew him, Damian Wayne—was, at the moment, wrapped up from the neck down in yellow ropes. Sinestro, using his Qwardian power ring, held him there, adjusting the ropes as the teenager attempted to struggle his way out.
"You said you wanted to harness the power of fear?" said Sinestro's voice in Damian's head, using a tone not unlike that of a parent disciplining their unruly child. "You said you wanted to ensure peace? This is how we do that, Damian. And if I have to take over your mind until you understand how this works, so be it." Nightwing grimaced. He could feel the Korugarian's influence seeping into his mind. If he didn't get out soon, his very being would be overridden.
"Get out of my head!" With his own power ring, Nightwing created a glowing yellow chainsaw and cut through all the ropes before disappearing. Before Sinestro could restrain the teen again, Nightwing tackled him out of the air. With a brass knuckle construct around his right hand, Damian started wailing on Sinestro's head. Sinestro returned the favor with blows of his own right up until the two of them crashed into a searchlight on a rooftop. Damian stayed in it, dazed for a moment, while Sinestro ended up lying on the other side of the roof.
"Proud of yourself now?" called Sinestro as he began to levitate. "Happy that you destroyed your father's little light?"
"What?" said Nightwing. He looked at the shattered glass that surrounded him and...no. No way. He'd just destroyed the Bat-Signal. Granted, it wasn't like his dad was exactly making use of it anymore, but Nightwing didn't know how to feel about it. Was he destroying his past, or was he...?
That was when he realized a large Batman construct was now towering over him. It wasn't saying anything, but Damian knew exactly what Sinestro was doing. The Korugarian was trying to tap into Nightwing's psyche, turn his own mind against itself. That wasn't happening, not if Damian could help it. Thinking quickly, the teen grabbed the two electric escrima sticks from his belt, put them together, and with his ring, made an exaggerated baseball bat around them. In one quick motion, he was out of the Bat-Signal, and with his next move, he took a swing that made construct-Batman crumble.
"He's no father of mine," he yelled at Sinestro. "And neither are you!" With his next swing, Damian sent the Bat-Signal flying. Sinestro made a shield construct and bounced the light off, sending it down into the street. Nightwing dropped back onto the rooftop, and as the construct vanished, Nightwing split the staff back into sticks.
"That's it!" said Sinestro. "If you won't submit, then you will die screaming!"
"Yeah, yeah," said Nightwing as a smirk came over him, "nice helmet, loser."
The two Yellow Lanterns let out primal war cries and charged at each other, and as they did so, a strange electricity started to spark in the air. Both knew what this was: the Clash phenomenon, born of intense battle and capable of turning its tide. The question was who its energy would benefit...
As Nightwing took a swing with one of his escrima sticks and Sinestro launched both fists at once, the Clash's energy peaked. The light was too much to bear, so Nightwing closed his eyes right as he felt one of the sticks hit Sinestro right in the teeth. He followed through on the swing and waited for the pushback...
Nothing. No hit from Sinestro, no momentum of the Clash pushing him away, nothing. Damian opened his eyes and suddenly found himself in a parking garage. As far as he knew, the Clash didn't do this. Was this Gotham? Metropolis? Someplace else?
"Testing, testing, come in." Nightwing raised his power ring closer to his face to make sure he was really hearing this. "If you can hear this, please respond." Figuring it was someone from the Regime, he shrugged and decided to answer.
"This is Nightwing. Sinestro just tried to take control of my mind—and then when that didn't work, he tried to kill me. I don't know where I am right now, but I need to speak with the High Councillor immediately!" That was right about when Nightwing noticed a guy in green getting up and massaging his ankle. It wasn't the usual attire, but Nightwing knew exactly who this was. The Riddler was on the loose again.
"One second," said Damian into his ring as he approached. "So, Mr. Nygma, how'd you get out of Arkham this time? And why do I suspect you made a puzzle in your cell before you left?"
edited 3rd Jul '16 6:21:41 PM by NitrousThunder
Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?
If sighs could be categorized in a manner similar to hurricanes, then the Joestar penthouse suite was filled with a category-5 sigh of boredom. This was courtesy of the young girl sitting at the dinning room table with textbooks and sheets of paper strewn out in front of her. There was very little that young Shizuka would not rather be doing instead of this (seeming) mountain of homework. It was all such a pain that could totally be done later or even tomorrow. The worst part of it was Roses standing there, keeping a close eye on her. The old butler quickly wised up to her old tactic of disappearing for the afternoon.
Slowly chipping away at the task in front of her one question at a time, the young Joestar felt like time had frozen. She was trapped forever in this hell. She slumped back in her chair, glaring at the paper in front of her as her right leg bounced up and down to confirm that yes she was still alive. Roses, for his part, seemed to be growing just as impatient as she was. "Ms. Shizuka, if you would just focus I am sure you could finish in no time and be free to play whatever it is you play." he tried to reason with her.
True to any girl her age in her situation, she rolled her eyes and just let out a huff of annoyance. It was only the right thing to do after all. School should stay in school and home should be freedom. Thats how she felt at least, and all of her friends agreed so they had to be right. She slapped her hand on the table and stood up from her chair, turning to look behind her.
"Look Roses...." she started to say, but came up completely short when the scene behind her was not the other side of the dinning room like she had been expecting. Instead it looked like a parking lot full of a bunch of weirdos. A guy in blue armor out of some game stuck in a wall, a red-haired guy just laying on the ground like a bum, and some nerd in tights that looked like he was right out of a comic. It took the young girl a second to even process that she wasn't in her home anymore.
As soon as that realization hit her, the barely-teenaged girl suddenly completely vanished from sight, activating her Stand to turn herself invisible. Thoughts raced through her head as she tried to figure out what just happened, who were these people, and what did they want with her? Maybe they were after a ransom, she was the youngest of the well-to-do Joestar family after all. If that was the case they were in for a pretty rude surprise once the Speedwagon Foundation got wind of this. She'd be found in no time!
Oddly enough though, she didn't think anyone really noticed her, or they weren't paying attention at least. She was completely unrestrained and no guard standing near her to keep her from running off. Maybe they weren't after a ransom? Was this some shitty joke then or something? A lot of the other people assembled seemed confused too, so maybe they were victims as well. Shizuka decided to stay cloaked for now and observe, Dad always said to use your head and think yourself out of a situation when you were in danger.
Benevolent Devilish Angel
To say that Conan was confused would be an understatement.
After all, he had been aimlessly running about for a few weeks. He didn't even understand his life right now. Conan Edogawa hadn't been able to make sense of his entire existence ever since the witch and scientist he had woken up in a laboratory with had forced him to escape.The whole building had been under attack not long after the witch had managed to explain his predicament.
He could still recall her long blond braided hair and emerald eyes as she had explained that he had been poisoned. She had found him and revived him using a magic spell, but that had left him as a wooden ball-joint doll who couldn't speak or feel. However when all the gunfire started, everything had changed. She had no more thrown him out the window and told him to run that she had vanished in a bout of smoke. He didn't even know what had happened to the scientist!
And now...there was this. This place here was not where he had been a few seconds ago. Blue eyes wide and his black hair framing his face, he began to look around at everyone else that was here. Slowly catching up to his senses and thought processes, he pulled a notebook and pencil from his pocket before beginning to take notes on his surroundings and the others around him.
He figured his confusion would be answered to in due time. All in due time...
And in this heart, our bond cannot break. From here to the end and back again I will stand sharp. The light in me will guide you home...
Scott stared down at the man bleeding before him. It had taken a few tries to work around the issue of defeating someone too quickly and having them turn to coins, but the now defeated security guys had been enough practice. the scattered piles of coins he'd have to pick up later all that remained.
Stepping forward, the grey-skinned man's grin grew wider as Gideon Graves tried to put distance between them. "Listen, Scott, buddy. This is all a big misunderstanding. Ramona played us both. I don't even know where she is-"
The mention of her name knocked the grin from Scott's face, replacing it with rage. He wasn't even sure why he was that angry. Still, he went with it. "Shut up! I don't want to hear anything from your... your stupid glasses face!"
Scott pointed the Power of Heartbreak at Gideon. "It's your fault my friends all hate me. You and your stupid League! And now I'm going to take care of you like I took care of them." Scott's red eyes narrowed and a cruel grin spread back across his face. "Awesomely."
Gideon rolled his eyes. "Really? That's the best you had? You really are a complete idiot."
Scott frowned. "That's it, you die now."
One swing of his sword saw Gideon Graves scattered across the floor of his precious club, as a rain of coins. Scott turned to the people watching him in awe, and grinned. "Ok, so since I beat him, this all belongs to me now. And you're all my slaves. We're going to take over the world!"
Then he blinked, and was somewhere else. Instead of his sword being pointed at a group of random people, it was pointed at a group of random people wearing really weird outfits. "...Did I accidentally end up in a convention again? And why are you guys holding one in a parking lot? That's kind of sad."
huzzaaaaaaaah
What is the point of meditation?
And what will that do?
And why must you unlock your true potential?
"Everyone- shut up!"
If the loud command coming from the woman clutching her own head wasn't enough to garner the attention of the other Alternates, then the sound of her slamming her fist into the concrete wall certainly would. Korra
◊ doubled over, gasping for air as she continued to massage her temples, continuously muttering something to herself.
Luckily, whatever it was that she was muttering seemed to do the trick. Instinctively, she gripped the beads attached to her belt, counting the little brown spheres one at a time. Slowly, she opened her eyes, trying to hide her logical confusion under a layer of emotional control.
"Right." Clenching her fists, Korra straightened her back, marching towards the concentration of people at the center of the odd location. "Who is behind... whatever this is? You better reveal yourself right now." And to accentuate her threat, a small fireball appeared around her fist, illuminating her snarl. "I don't have time for games."
edited 3rd Jul '16 7:29:47 PM by Stratofarius
<Drew, Dalp, take the left flank. Michelle, Ket, you’re with me. Bak? You’re running distraction.> Six of us, perched on a jagged balcony, overlooking the sagging, brown-and-black building that had once been Grand Central Station. The airlanes below us were a glimmering, moving labyrinth of red light – thousands of ships of all makes and sizes, maneuvering through the jagged black chasms of the city that had once been New York. A gorilla, a pink Andalite, a pacing leopard, a Cape buffalo, two massive Hork-Bajir.
“Bak understand.” The Hork-Bajir – a massive brute that had managed to escape some illegal fighting ring – nodded sagely.
<Prince Marco, Bug fighters are on intercept.> Dalp tapped the thought-speak earpiece wedged in her pointed ear. <We have six of your minutes to get in and out.>
<Alright boys and girls,> I announced as I knuckle-walked to the nearest skylight. <We have about thirty seconds before the perimeter alarms start going off. We go in, do as much damage as possible, detonate these charges-> I motioned to the gorilla-sized bandolier on my chest, laden with tiny, jury-rigged explosives- and head for the rendezvous point.>
<So what are we waiting for, huh?> said the buffalo, pawing one hoof against the ground and lowering her head in anticipation of a charge.>
<On my mark! Three… two… one…!>
My name is Marco.
You know the old song and dance. Construction site. Elfangor. Yeerks. The power to morph. Yeah. Old news. That first war against the Yeerks – the one with Jake and Cassie, Rachel ,Tobias, Ax, me – that was twenty five years ago now. Back then, back all the way at the beginning, things were simpler. The Yeerks were coming – it was our job to hold them off until the Andalites showed up. Then we realized that the Andalites weren’t coming anytime soon. It was up to five teenagers and a homesick alien to win a war.
That war is over.
The Yeerks won.
But I've learned that humans are a weird species. We won’t go down without a fight – and even when the odds are completely against our favour, we’ll fight to the very last breath. Stupid? Maybe. Determined? You bet. Give me liberty or give me death, that kind of thing.
Twenty-five years have passed since the fall of Washington and the capitulation of the UN. The Andalite fleet that showed up two years late didn’t stand a chance. It took another five years before the old cities were gutted and rebuilt to suit the needs of the Yeerks. Entire city blocks were levelled to serve as new spaceports, parks and rivers dammed up and pumped full of nutrient sludge to become gigantic Yeerk pools. The old apartments and office buildings were hastily retrofitted with Yeerk technology; great malignant growths of black metal cling to the old skyscrapers and brownstones like mechanical kudzu.
Twenty-five years. A long time for the Yeerks to dig in. They like to think that they've got the whole Earth under their slimy grip. That every single human is an infested slave, that there are no free communities left anywhere in the world.
They couldn't be more wrong.
Crash. The train station was suddenly assaulted by a nightmare circus- a gorilla, a buffalo, a Hork-Bajir, impacting the polished black floor. Alarms had already started screeching before we hit the ground - a mass of blades and horns and muscles. Human-Controllers screamed and were already bolting for the doors. Hork-Bajir security guards loped towards us. The two Orff security officers were already plodding toward us in their weird three-legged gait.
“Animorph! Animorph!” People were screaming the name as they swarmed out of the station. The Yeerk security guards, firing their Dracons at me as best they could. They didn’t see Ket charging towards them like an out-of-control lawnmower until it was too late to ignore the seven-foot wall of blades and muscle bearing down on them.
I grabbed the nearest Taxxon and threw him against the nearest wall, bellowing a throaty gorilla roar that would’ve made Rambo wet his pants. The vile centipede exploded like a tube of overfilled toothpaste.
Gorillas are fundamentally nice creatures. Mostly they want to be left alone. Eat some bamboo When you piss them off, however, it’s an entirely different story. When seven hundred pounds of gorilla link up with an angry human, it’s an entirely different story.
Crash! I knuckle-charged straight through a flimsy wall and ploughed into the nearest platform. The “trains” were low-slung, armored things that hovered In the air, suspended within a big plastic tube.
Michelle pawed the ground and slammed her horns into the nearest Orff, who went flying into the wall, twitching spasmodically. Just behind me, she trotted almost daintily towards me, her horns stained with a multicoloured smear of blood.
<All of you! Out! This station is coming down!> she shouted to the commuters, who were already scrambling for the exit.
<Ket didn’t make it out.> she said, her tone apologetic. I sighed. Our third casualty in as many weeks.
<Get Dalp and Drew out of here. I need to stay behind. These charges won’t set themselves.> I tried to sound as authoritative as I could. I was the commander – the commander, the new Jake. Twenty-five years of spearheading the resistance, and somehow I still felt like the dumb 13- year old who never wanted to be a part of this mess. Thick gorilla fingers were already planting charges in the empty train station. If we took down the transit hub in and out of Yeerk America... well, we'd hurt them bad. It'd take weeks to rebuild.
"Gafrash! Hakem flit Animorph!''" Two Hork-Bajir Controllers came charging toward me, blades flashing. Young ones, perhaps their first engagement with the enemy. I dropped the charges, pounded my chest in a gorilla roar, knuckle-charged towards the two aliens - and - and -
- skidded into a parking garage, flat on my gorilla ass. An actual, honest-to-god parking garage, a kind I hadn't seen since the end of the war - the kind that my parents used to beg me to avoid on account of all the drug dealers that apparently used to hang out there. Nobody in post-Yeerk Earth had used a car in decades. There were people milling around, all of them equally confused by what was going on. They all seemed to be human - no Hork-Bajir, Taxxons...
<Woah. Back up. What's going on?> I said in thought-speak, trying to get my furiously stalling brain back into first gear. <Why are we in a parking garage?> I picked myself up off the ground and settled onto my knuckles, not wanting to demorph until I knew it was safe.
The Mighty Pen
The war was over. They'd won. It had cost them far, far too much, but they had won. But now they had to face what came next. Somehow, that seemed harder. Earth was in ruins again, along with countless other worlds. Tali had no idea how much of the Migrant Fleet had survived, how many Enclaves were left standing. Was she the only quarian left from the Fleet? Who had died? How would they rebuild from this? A trillion new problems were on the horizon, she could already see them coming and it scared her to death. She took a deep breath, leaning against the nearest wall. The essence is the whole. Can we rebuild? Yes. Will it be better? I suppose that doesn't matter. All they could do was move forward and hope it was enough. But she never got the chance. As she straightened up, feeling bone-weary, the world blinked around her and she was elsewhere.
Her frayed combat instincts took over at once, despite her exhaustion. One hand reached around to the small of her back, snatching at the grip of her shotgun. She found purchase and, the magnetic clamp automatically disengaging, swung the weapon around as it unfolded and locked into place with a soft whirr-snick! Her visor's proximity warning display showed many unknown signatures all around her and indeed, as she whirled right and left, looking for threats, she saw them, along with the ruined dwelling they were in. Exposed, too exposed out here, find cover! Then one of the newcomers crashed into the wall with a tremendous boom and she almost opened fire before realizing he'd gotten himself stuck and wasn't moving. And no one else was shooting. Her visor's display continued spitting out data: the atmosphere was breathable and she had the percentage of components in it, all comm channels were lost, her omnitool was scanning for new ones, her location was unknown, local temperature, local gravity, all systems nominal, and so on.
Her back thumping against one of the pillars, she lowered her weapon slightly. None of the others seemed like Reaper forces, or Cerberus. They also didn't resemble anything she knew. And they still weren't making hostile moves. She lowered her weapon still further. Is it safe to go and help that one? It seems to be. Then a display warning flashed on the corner of her visor
INCOMING COMM SIGNAL - ORIGIN UNKNOWN - ACCEPT Y/N? - RUN TRACE Y/N?
Tali tapped a button on her omnitool to start the trace program running, though without a comm drone or something else to boost the signal it wouldn't get far, and another to open the channel. What the person at the other end of the channel had to say was very uninformative.
"Who is this?" she demanded, "Who are all these people? How did we get here? Why are we here? Where are we? Can you send us back?"
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. -Lao Tzu
King of Lame-Style
Things were never simple were they? Soon after his old wards sought further instruction leaving him as a free agent her grace Lady Oihana had him again halfway across the continent as part of a small battalion of a defensive force contracted by small nation but wealthy nation, Hirbenland, as mostly a deterrent. Of course, this was just another day in the field for Jory the old dog, and he joined a couple of other sellsword companies as they patrolled the border at his arrival. Things weren't easy and after a pair of skirmishes he found himself by the campfire with a gaggle of rookies, and in the middle of a war story.
"...but that young buck.kept coming at me bleeding and flailing like a madman, screaming at the top of his lungs 'I'm all in! I'm ready to die!'" He recounted, the trilling events made casual by his lazy tone. He didn't like to tell these stories, he was never good at telling him and he didn't like to boast about his missions, but it seemed to do well by the novice soldiers, so he kept at it. He scratched the neck of his loyal Eorl under his collar -" so 'course I obliged, I weaved between his wild swings and-"
Suddenly the log under his posterior wasn't there and the forest they had set camp in vanished to reveal... some sort of strange dungeon or perhaps a stock room. Jory fell back on his behind his hand grasping Eorl on reflex for support. The lupine dog raised his head and growled out "the seven hells?" In raspy confusion.
"I don't precisely have answers, old friend" Said Jory, trying to stand up as he scanned the room and the strange figures that populated it, one hand on the hilt of his longsword out of caution and habit. Women and men, some not entirely human Jory noted, all in different clothing some again rather alien from Jory's perception. But a common factor, he found after looking at the lot of them for a few moments, his good half lidded eye gliding over them. Confusion, anarchy, people caucht in movement and only a paltry little of them trying to call the masses down. He was drawn out of thought when a figure thumped a pillar nearby him, making his and Eorl head snap in said direction. It was a woman, in a strange armour a strange helmet and what he could only assume was a weapon albeit one he hadn't ever seen before. The helmeted woman was raving up to what was to him an invisible threat... yet that was also something he'd seen from the other people in the dungeon. Curious he approached the woman, Eorl following closely behind.
" 'scuse me lass?" he started, in his laid back, yet polite tone "But who are you yelling at?" He asked the odd hooded woman.
edited 3rd Jul '16 9:41:26 PM by Sanojutsu
The graceless warrior, wielder of the edgeless blade, prophet of the old religions, writer of fluent nonsense, saviour of soul and song.
"Shit!"
Lady, as thrown off as she had been at the situation, dropped her shotgun in shock as the voice sounded through her head. Luckily for her and anyone else in the area, it did not go off on hitting the ground. Quickly, she drew an SMG to replace the shotgun and panned it around the area. She noticed a few oddballs, someone in a weird suit, a Gorilla? But nothing that was obviously the source of that voice. Lady scowled, unhappy at being denied an easily identifiable target to point her weapon at.
"Ok, whoever the hell is doing that, quit it right now before I fill you with lead! I don't appreciate people screwing around in my head!"
Witchcraft!
Ami's response to the redhead chiding her on her swearing was a pointed glare and a "screw you." She'd stop swearing so much when there was a reason to. Instead, she opened her mouth to shout into her phone some more, only to be interrupted by some angry brunette slamming her fist into the concrete and conjuring a ball of fire.
Rather than keep shouting and risk having a fireball thrown at her (though she was sure she'd be able to blow it away), she skipped over to the redhead, who had fallen on the ground. She kicked him in the side.
"Hey. You with the missing arm. Get up. You're not dead, are you?"
Scott spun around in shock at the voice in his head, too surprised to actually hear what it said. Only one person came to mind with that ability. "Who was that?! Is that you Professor X? Are you here to recruit me, finally?!"
Then he spotted the gorilla standing nearby. "Holy shit!" Jumping back, he stared at it wide-eyed. "Good... uh, monkey? Ook, ook, want... want banana? No barrel throwing, please."
I have a plan.
Rat City, 1993
8:7:7:4
Behind the Port Authority Bus Terminal, deep within the New York Bowery, lies a stretch of urban jungle known as Rat City. Most people don't go to Rat City of their own volition. They end up there after being forsaken by society, or by letting their temptations draw them in.
For the longest time, Rat City was a hell on earth. Psychopaths, organized crime, and even the supernatural all came to Rat City in droves as demons in training. This was almost always at the expense of the homeless families living in the alleys, who were ignored by the police, and left out of God's plan. At least, until the Hellspawn showed up.
Jason Wynn was the latest in a long line of Spawns, generals serving the forces of Hell. He was condemned into the pits of Hell for crimes against humanity in his previous life. But by protecting the people of Earth from Hell and its forces, he could begin his redemption.
Spawn passed several transients, who were not at all alarmed by his presence, and stood beside his confidant, Cogliostro.
"Cogliostro. Are you busy?" he asked.
Cogliostro made a warm smile. "You can always speak to me, Spawn. What's the matter?"
"I'm thinking of taking a little vacation out of town. The Agency has continued on for too long like this. I've been thinking about this for awhile... I'm going to make Al Simmons and Jessica pay for what they've done."
Cogliostro's sunny disposition went 180 immediately. "Spawn. I've already told about these revenge fantasies you keep plotting out. You've gotten into trouble over it before."
"The Agency is nothing but trouble. And nobody else can stop them."
"So you're going to abandon us to embark on a suicide mission?" Cogliostro yelled. "I'm not saying I haven't seen your progress. You've done a lot of good for this city. But the moment you and Al cross paths again, the bloodlust, and the hatred, and the senseless killings, they'll start all over again, and that's assuming you'll survive a fight against him."
"Not up for discussion, Cog. I want you to contact Sam and Twitch. You three can guard the alleys in my absence."
Spawn then vanished without a trace.
"Spawn?" Coglistro asked. "JASON?"
Of course, Spawn didn't leave of his own volition. He didn't know how, but he suddenly was in what appeared to be a parking garage. The first thing that caught Spawn's attention was a figure in armor that somehow got forcefully embedded upside-down in a concrete wall. Spawn stood in front of and stared at Lavernius Tucker, with a fangy 'smile' stretched across his face.
"@[=g3,8d]&fbb=-q]/hk%fg"
Glory to Arachnos
"I...I...I see. This might not be a memory then."
I didn't truly died. But my flesh and body did.
You achieved perfection..
Yi slowly nodded to the responses he was given, and then glanced over at the small group that was gathering over, so different...and it reminded him of a fields he used to fight with multiple different people...but he can't remember. And then he heard a unknown voice echoed in his mind, the voice wondering why they were in a garage.
"What...was that? It wasn't like the memories.." Yi looked over to find wherever the source of the voice, to no avail. It was then where he noticed that one of the people who responded to him was lying on the ground, clearly missing a limb.
Yi slowly walked over to Emiya, and after an moment of staring at him, reached out his right hand at him, in an offer to help him get up from the ground.
"Do you..require assistance?"
edited 3rd Jul '16 9:59:03 PM by Darkomega245
-Spider Lizard Noises-
"Eto... ah-erm..." Naruko looked at one of her friends, one Hinata Hyuuga, with a confused look in her eyes as the heiress of the main Hyuuga branch continued to stammer and fiddle around with her fingers, characteristic blush on her face even as her eyes wandered anywhere from her feet to a space just to the right of the blonde's ears- anywhere but eye contact really. The ninja in orange continued to wait patiently, nowadays used to the the princess' quirks even without really knowing of the reasons for such an attitude. The two continued to stand around in companionable semi-silence as the Jinchuriki waited and the heiress attempted to work up her nerve, giving pedestrians a free show in the process.
"N-naruko-san, e-erm... I made this for you..." Holding out what looked like a hand-knit red scarf, the shorter of the duo ducked her head once more even as the foot traffic continued on either side of them, familiar faces such as quietly positive Haku and wildly gesticulating Rock Lee giving encouragement from the sidelines. Heck, even Negi Hyuga, local cousin-con who was hiding nearby seemed to give his best regards even as he bit into a handkerchief in the most stereotypical of manners. Mouth quirking upwards and then blossoming into a full-on sunny grin that caused the hime before her to swoon, Naruko reached out to take the cozy little neck-warmer with surprising gravity before ever so gently furling it about her neck.
"Aha, how do I look, Hinata-chan?~" Twirling the pointed metal weapon around and quirking a peace-sign, Naruko's grin continued to shine as though it was a second sun in the sky, so dazzling that even Rock Lee had to agree it was a most wonderful smile while muttering to himself that if he couldn't do the same, he'd lap around the village on his hands. Twirling about to show off before picking up the trailing end and sniffing at it to find that smelt of cinnamon, the pigtailed girl looked up to find Hinata was all but billowing out steam from the innocuous question and following actions, face redder than the ripest of cherries.
"G-g-g-good! You look great!" Blurting it all out while supporting herself on the nearby lamp post and looking like she was about to faint much to the befuddlement of the World's Strongest Genin, Taking multiple deep breaths, a silent but intense fire blazed in the Hyuga's eyes as she condensed her determination into one strong core so that it wouldn't be able to be dispersed by all but the most extreme of shocks. "B-besides that, I have something to tell you... I... L-lo-" Whatever the taijutsu specialist was about to say to the attentively listening kunoichi would have to be cut short though as in the next blink of an eye, one Naruko Uzumaki got transported to a completely different locale than she was prior.
After instinctively bending her knee to crouch in a defensive pattern, a sharp kunai was drawn out in one fluid motion. Twirling once and then held in the standard reverse-grip, the now armed ninja glared balefully from under her blonde bangs as she regarded the chamber with caution, all important senses on high alert. Eyes to scan the perimeter, ears to screen suspect sounds, nose to detect dangerous scents... In short, the unexpected combat scenario had driven the Jinchuriki into over-drive, a low growl muttering from her throat. She had so wanted to hear what dear Hinata-chan was about to say, it sounded really important... "I have to get back alive... everyone's waiting for me... Especially Hinata."
Shinobi logic soon began to correlate information gathered via sensory perceptions, taking in how people were acting and finding it to be natural as far as she could find. The others were in the same predicament as herself, their bodies caught in their own cautionary reactions. Some of them seemed rather furious and armed with exotic weapons, some long barreled things that most likely shoots some sort of projectile out from the tubing. Anger and fury would mean those people were more likely to perform violent actions and thus they were monitored a tad more than the calmer individuals. "...Count me in as one of those people that wants to know what the heck is going on." A reproachful pout could be heard from her words, greatly contrasting with focused and battle-hardened countenance that bespoke of familiarity of armed conflicts.
And yet the sight of the redhaired man without an arm, the obviously young children, and the man in the crater served to cause her to pause and feel sorry. At least her own kidnapping was somewhat more pleasant than theirs. Shuffling closer inch by inch to Shirou while ready to react at any sort of explosive movement from the others, the twintailed kunoichi slowly reached out a hand towards him. "...I got a hand if you want." The girl was still a bit soft it seemed, especially in her line of work. A self-deprecating chuckled came forth from her scarf hidden mouth as she saw that another person had the same idea, but she still stuck around. One to help him up and the other to help stabilize him upon standing.
edited 3rd Jul '16 10:09:26 PM by Makaioh
sword of promised halp
Something hits me in the ribs, a bit like a shoe.
"Ow."
I roll over, or at least I try to, but it feels like I'm a magnet in a can. I sway up, then back down. My face hits the floor again.
"I mean," I mumble through my mouthful of grit, "I'm not dead. I mean, I think I already said that I think I'm not. I think. Don't worry, guys, I'm doing just peach-"
Flop. I'm staring into the sweary schoolgirl's face. The memory pokes my mind like a jagged knife. A bleeding woman in a black robe, her violet hair strewn about her heaving shoulders. Laughing, and cursing, and shaking...
"Oh, I know who you look like. Caster. I mean, Medea."
edited 3rd Jul '16 10:29:16 PM by troydenite
'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023
All of Lady's thoughts stopped as Spawn appeared in the area, a man who's outfit just screamed "I'm a demon!" Within a second, Lady spun her rocket launcher off of the back of her shoulder and pointed it directly at Spawn before pulling the trigger.
"Look out, there's a demon over there!" Lady yelled at anyone nearby as she lifted her SMG, firing that in addition to the rockets in case he dodged out of the way of the rocket.
Emissary of the Void
Hidden Among the Stars
Across Space -emphasis on the S- the stars twinkled, ever distant from each other. A soft sigh was breathed into the air(?) as The Freeshooter stood among vastness of his element. A dark figure blurred behind him, but he remained unaffected. Another darted past him, but no closer as a bolt of light with a red glow at its edge nearly struck it down. The darkness began to swell as it started to blot out the starry night.
The man snorted with amusement as he watched the ever mounting darkness ready to drown him. But he didn't care in the slightest. Or rather...
(Zero) Graviga
It was funny, fighting against an innumerable foe, within the empty pocket of space he was occupying. The fabric of reality was being shaped and warped as the darkness was being forcibly crushed and repelled continuously as the (former) Nobody repeatedly tore it apart.
It had only lasted for a few minutes before the darkness subsided and vanished. Xigbar gave a slight smirk in satisfaction as he left that eternal realm of blinking lights. "Well, let's see where I should go next? " He mused, traveling between the realms.
Life, sadly, had other plans...
Unknown Area (with weirdos)
There was a quiet ripple in the air, much further away from anyone who was already there, and out of it came a man dressed in a black coat. His hood covered his face for the time being and having noticed the announcement in the air made him pause before he retreated into the shadows.
He'd wait this out and see what would come next.
[DATA LOST]
There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.
There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
- Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Will Aryl stared blankly at his monitor, his eyes clouding over after five hours of reading over the research. Technically, he'd been reading up on this research for the past two years, but only five hours ago had "research" become "the research".
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was only eight hours into a sixteen-hour shift. He couldn't afford to take a break, not with the deadline only five days away. Sure, he'd have the research team on hand at all times, but in his experience people reacted better if you weren't waiting a minute or two for an answer.
It didn't help that the word research was starting to look like it was spelled wrong.
Before he had the chance to nod off into sleep, there was a sharp knock on his office door, before the knocker let herself in.
"Will? We have a problem."
Will turned around in his chair to face Mary Malone, his boss and dear friend. Her expression was grim, and that alone was enough to make him leap from his seat and follow her.
It was only a short walk to the central computer core, what was to be his workstation in five day's time. She wordlessly pointed at one of the terminals attached to it, and waited as Will leaned over and scanned the monitor. All he could see was The List, both the first round and the potential reinforcements.
"Tell me what's wrong with what you see?" came Mary's voice from behind him.
Immediately, Will's brain began spotting the obvious difference. How he hadn't seen it the first time, he could only blame on tiredness.
"Shit! Someone's changed it."
"I checked the raw data myself. Heimdall there should have the right names."
"Why doesn't he? Half the names here are correct, if there was corruption-"
"It was sabotage."
Will turned to meet his friend's eyes, an undercurrent of understanding passing between them. Project Rook was one of hundreds of ongoing projects at the Centre for Universal Survival, all aimed at saving the universe from total collapse. However, with that many ideas, there was intense jockeying for resources and funding. Project Rook, being one of the favourites, was the target of many scientists' jealousy.
But to go as far as sabotaging the best plan to save the universe? Would someone do that?
"We should report this-" Mary began, before Will cut her off.
"If we do, the Project will be shut down. We'll lose our shot. Heimdall's already started the monitoring process, we can't change who he's looking at. We'll have to make do with whoever those bastards have given us."
"It gets worse. Some of the names are correct, but they're the wrong version. Even worse than that, a lot of these guys have high Snapback probabilities."
"Goddammit!" The man pounded on the desk in frustration.
"Look, whoever's done this, we can figure them out. Once the names were entered, there weren't any checks of the list scheduled until after we brought them together. As far as our saboteurs know, we think everything is just fine. They might have access to Heimdall, but if we pretend everything's fine-"
"We can trace the intrusion and catch the bastard."
"Yeah."
"Okay. Have Roger send me any data we have on the changes. I'll go back to my own files, concentrate on the unchanged names for now."
Mary shook her head, her grey bob thrashing wildly.
"Will, you're running on empty right now. Take the rest of the day off. And tomorrow. I'm sure Eve would appreciate seeing more of you before this whole thing kicks off."
The mention of his wife's name brought a smile to the man's face, and he stood up to leave.
"Mary?"
"Yes, Will?"
"Are we doing the right thing?"
The elderly scientist glanced at the multiversal monitoring system, and the list of names held within. Hundreds of people from across the multiverse, young and old, all being monitored so that they might be pulled from their homes, their families, their friends and sent on a mission that they had little to no stake in.
"I hope so."
"Let's just hope whoever did this wasn't evil enough to add kids to the list. There were too many superpowered teenagers on the original list. If he changed any of those to universes where they never got power-"
"We'll skin the bastards alive if they did."
"I'll have my knife ready."
The Alternates would suffer from some temporary disorientation as, without warning, their old worlds simply stopped being around them, and the new one came into being. It didn't matter if they were mid-step; mid-stride; mid-fall or mid-attack, one moment they were in their own universe, and in the next they weren't.
Where they were looked a lot like an underground parking garage. White lines separated parking spaces and pointed towards closed entrances and exits. At some point someone had made a home from the place, hanging paintings and mirrors on the walls and pillars, putting up room dividers, and furnishing it to the best of their abilities.
Those improvements now lay ransacked. Wardrobes and lockers were emptied, pillows were torn asunder, the mirrors and paintings pulled from the walls and smashed on the ground.
And within this chaos stood the Alternates, varying in species, gender, age and creed. Before the cacophony that would come naturally as people began to ask questions, there was a moment of silence.
For anyone who had a radio or communication device, that silence was shattered sooner than most, as their devices sparked into life.
"Testing, testing, come in. If you can hear this, please respond."
Unfortunately for Lavernius Tucker, he was taken mid-run. And not just any run, a run enhanced by his brand-spanking new supersuit.
As a result, part of the initial cacophony that usually associated a mass gathering of people from across the multiverse was the sound of a man in a suit of armour running straight through on of the parking garage’s concrete support pillars, and embedding himself in the wall behind it.
Somehow, in the midst of all this, he’d also managed to turn himself upside-down.
“Uhhh… Little help?” They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!