#could’ve made it much longer tho blink and you’ll miss it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

You were online a week later.

It was a boring day, with a slow start and by night, you were starting to feel restless, your feet bouncing and an empty bag of chips rests on your nightstand. You were itching for something to do, anything to distract but no show or game could hold your attention. You throw your head back and gnaw at your bottom lip.

Your fingers tap against the keyboard, and with a glance at the time, you pull up the calendar for the group time slots and with a fairly positive outlook that that you wouldn’t run into the other team members, you booted up the game, and started a simple mission but even then your attention couldn’t be held. The game had already lost its spark for you.

You admit that you reacted childishly in response to being yelled at. You were always sensitive, you cried too much and took everything personally even if you tried not to but for some reason it just hit different when he had yelled at you.

You were so angry with him at the time. But when you awoke the next day, you were angry with yourself. You made that dumb post and now you had to hold off for a month to show that his words didn’t hurt you- you had a point to prove, you didn’t want to seem as someone who reacted so childishly.

You thought you would miss the game but having not played for a period of time, you were starting to enjoy your time. You slept a bit earlier, your back wasn’t sore from hunching over and you had started to pick up old hobbies that you dropped when you got sucked into this game. Picking it back up, the game no longer felt the same. You remember you could get lost in this game for hours, you liked the customization options, the weapons, and the soundtrack was pretty good, but for now as you wandered around a forest, looking for a crystal that wouldn’t be of any real use to you seeing as you had already decided to quit the game for good, you were grateful for the distraction.

But as the clock ticked on, you had already grown bored, feeling your joints become sore and a headache forming. You were about to exit out of the game and pray that none of the members would see that you were active but then a ‘ding’ startled you awake. You peeked at the corner of the screen, a familiar icon popping up. You frowned, your shoulders slumped and you debated with yourself on whether you should open the message or not but your curiosity won over.

>Are you quitting the game or not?

“Blunt as always,” you thought to yourself, your fingers already typing at the keyboard.

<User_Name>

>Yeah:P

His reply came a second later.

>Why?

You wanted to type, “Why do you care?” You really did. You had the words on screen, the cursor blinking back at you, but you couldn’t force yourself to press the ‘Enter’ key. The corner of your mouth twitched and you backspaced, the message disappearing and replaced by another.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know. I’m kinda sick of it, you know? The user base is p toxic and I know that can be said for most games but I don’t know┐(´～｀)┌

>Plus after taking a break and coming back to it,,, the game doesn’t feel the same anymore

>I’m kind of bored of it

>That’s stupid

You let of a scoff, rolling your eyes at his answer.

<User_Name>

>I have been known to be pretty dumb

>I’m sure you’ve called me stupid before too lol

You watch as the three dots bubble up and down the screen, signifying his reply is being typed out and having no other form of entertainment, you take in a deep breath and with butterflies flapping around in your stomach, you type out more before he can reply to your original message.

>Will you be fine without me?

>You won’t miss your bestest pal uwu

On the other side of the screen, Shigaraki narrows his eyes. His eyes shine dangerously, and he’s positive if you knew who were talking to, you’d be shaking and begging for you life. Or perhaps you’d be dead. He’s not sure.

>I have better ‘friends’ than you

“Ouch.” You cringe inwardly. “Strike one.”

<User_Name>

>Wow, rude much??

>Well if I’m quitting, do you want my stuff? I’ve racked up a decent amount of gold and other stuff:P

“I sound like I’m dying and writing my will, stop being weird about it. You never even meet the dude,” you mumble to yourself, grateful that the voice chat function was off. “Oh my god. He could be like super old or something”

>Does it look like I take handouts?

“Is that a strike two?” You chewed on the idea of your cheek. “If I have to ask, it probably was.”

<User_Name>

Can I ask you something?

You just did

<User_Name>

:////

You were about to type out your question, the four words staring back at you unblinking. It would be weird, right? Of course it would be. And even if you did ask him that, the odds of him accepting would be slim. Plus, if he did reject, that would be strike three and you really didn’t want to strike out so much.

>Well?

<User_Name>

>Um,,,

>How old are you?

You threw your head into your hands and let out an agonized moan. Maybe you should just delete your account now. You don’t even know the guy’s name and he doesn’t know yours. So you could just delete your account and that would be it. You’d never have to speak to him ever again.

>You’re weird

You start laughing.

<User_Name>

>Says the guy who would tell other players to be careful who they’re talking to

>Who are you? Light Yagami?

>That’s a shit reference

<User_Name>

>You got it tho

>(ʃƪ¬‿¬)

>Why do you want to know?

“You have nothing to lose really,” you try to convince yourself as a way to just get to talk to him more.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know

>After a while, I always thought of you as a friend

>The other members sorta liked me, but I think it was more of them putting up with me

>But I thought we were beginning to form a friendship so I don’t know

>I guess a dumb part of me thought we could’ve been friends outside of the game:P

Shigaraki stares at the screen in disbelief. You must not have much or any friends at all if you thought he was being friendly. He’s positive that he would kill you if he knew you in real life. Probably right away if he met you on the street or maybe he’d take you as a hostage. He’s sure that he’d kill you but now he’s not sure when.

>You really are dumb

<User_Name>

>I can’t tell if you mean it or not

>Knowing you, you probably do

>Can I say good-bye to you? Like facecam wise?

He’d kill you on sight.

<User_Name>

>You don’t have to turn your camera on!! I guess, as my last like dumb wish, I wanna say bye?

>Pleaseee（/｡＼)

>I’ll promise to log out afterwards

Shigaraki stares at your messages, trying to gauge at what you’re trying to get at. Do you really want to just say bye? Who the hell gets so emotional in a fucking game? But he would be lying is he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious to see what you look like. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll be attractive and he could probably jerk at the thought of you before he goes to bed.

>I’m not showing my face

You smile at his answer. It’s the best that you were hoping for and you start to brush your hair out of your face, checking the mirror on your nightstand to see if you look presentable.

<User_Name>

>Fine by me

>It’ll be quick, promise:)

And soon he’s staring at the pop-up screen asking if he’d like to request a video call from you. He’s tempted to click no. He cranes his head behind him and once he’s certain that the door is closed, he accepts your call.

You pop up on screen. You’re cute, that’s as much as he’s willing to admit. You adjusting yourself, putting a strand of hair behind your ear before you realize that the call has been accepted. You look startled, and a shade of pink fills in your cheeks. You giggle nervously, waving a hand at the screen.

“Ahaha, hi!” You giggle nervously and he’s pretty sure you’re already regretting this decision. “So like I promised to keep this short and all, so I will.” You looked determined; you stand a bit straighter and take in a deep breath. You remind him of an anime character, someone with exaggerated movements and he’s positive that you’ve confessed your feelings to someone before in that same action.

“Now, now,” his voice freezes you in place, he reminds me you of snake, slithering towards their unassuming prey and you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s trying to convey, “what’s the rush? I thought we were “bestest friends”.” His voice is sickly sweet, taunting you with words that you’ve spoken. His words make you nervous, your hands clenching together and your stomach forming knots.

And suddenly it’s clicked in your mind that he wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s probably getting off at the thought of it. And while he is succeeding at that, you don’t want to lose whatever game he’s playing.

“Ha! You admitted it.” You swallow the lump in your throat and flex your fingers. “Okay bestie,” the way you say the word is like you’re trying to bait him into something, and even you’re not sure what you’re leading him into, “I gotta ask. Are you an old man? You sound kind of creepy. Not like a pervy creepy but like you’re gonna kidnap me and murder me in your basement kind of creepy.”

He laughs and you decide that you want to hear more of it- even if it does sound eerie.

“Do me a favor? If you do end up kidnapping me, can you at least bring me a smoothie from BlueBird’s?” You test out your luck, hoping that he’ll play along so you’re not the only talking and maybe it’ll disrupt whatever ruse he was planning.

“What flavor?” He sneered, playing at this sick roleplay that you made up.

You smiled brightly, as if you had gotten one over him, and surprisingly, he didn’t hate your smile. He’s seen all sorts of smiles directed towards him- crazed, trying to get into his good graces, smiles that held murderous intent but yours just looked happy, happy that you were talking to him. Illuminated by a yellow glow, his sneer looks more twisted, his upper lip curling in a twisted way and crimson eyes narrowed with revulsion.

“Mango, please and thank you.” You nodded your head, your smile wasn’t gentle as it was before, it was now playful, as if you wanted to continue this whole kidnapping scenario. He wanted to see how long this conversation would go before you said goodbye. For good. “Anyways, I said I’d make this quick and I will. I—”

“I’m not an old man.”

You laughed at his answer, covering your smile with your hand, and you looked up at him, your eyes brimming with mischief and excitement.

“Okay. And I’m not some elderly person either.”

“Yeah dumbass, I can see that.”

You crossed your arms and you continued to smile at him. “I get that we’re besties and all, but do you really have to keep insulting me?” You pouted your lips, before they broke out into a toothy smile, it was a bit forced but it was only to show that you were joking around with him.

“Is there any other type of friendship?” He genuinely sounded a bit curious.

“Mm, maybe?” You tilted you head to the side and he had a fleeting thought that you reminded him of a cat. “I mean, when I’m with my friends, we joke a lot but we don’t really insult each other too often.” You frowned a bit, your eyebrows furrowed before returning to the screen, giving out a half smile and shrugging your shoulders. “Thin skin, I guess.” A pause was in the air, too uncomfortable for your liking. “Are your friendships like that? Insulting, I mean.”

He hesitated for a second before replying, his voice drenched in fake nonchalance, “That’s a dumb question.”

You took that as a clue to not dwell on the subject any longer. You nodded to yourself forgetting that you were screen, only to hear him chortle on the other side.

“Are you agreeing that it’s a dumb question?”

You stretched your mouth into a nervous smile, heat lighting your cheeks as you racked your brain for a solid excuse on why you nodded to yourself. “Um, yeah?” You didn’t sound confident in the slightest but Shigaraki was curious on how you would save your own skin this time even if this conversation was rather dull. “Like, I guess it would make sense that you said that.” You brought your hands up, and shrugged them, your fingers curling inwards. “It was you who like really enforced the rule about not talking about your personal life so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to talk about your IRL friend groups.” You leaned further back, your pillows providing comfort against the hard wood that was your bed frame.

No noise came from him other than that of fabric being moved around and scratching at the microphone. “Did you really just say ‘IRL’ instead of ‘in real life’?” He sounded smug about it, as if he had proof that you were a total dweeb. “I never took you for one of those people.” He said ‘those people’ as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.

You let out a nervous laugh, before it grew into a snicker with your eyes shut. “First of all, ‘IRL” is faster to say compared to ‘in real life’ so jot that down. Second of all,” you tilted your chin upwards, giving you a false sense of superiority, “you’re the only always going on about “eat shit and die” and “suck my dick”,” your voice dropped an octave, a poor imitation of the man who hide behind a black screen. “So if I’m one of those people, then you’re like the poster boy of a gamer gatekeeper.”

“It’s not my fault other players are shit.” He breathed out.

“Oh yeah, the other players are shit; it totally isn’t you acting better than everyone.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, your tone teasing.

“I’m glad you agree,” he replied, letting out huffs of air through his nose.

It grew silent once more, and this time you weren’t uncomfortable with it, it had actually felt nice. Comfortable, even. Well at least as comfortable as it could get when you couldn’t see the other game but he could see you and all your mannerisms. You clasped your hands together, intertwining them, your attention focused on the black that took up nearly all of your screen, save for your own square that held you on the left hand corner.

“I think,” you started out, the words heavy on your lips, “I think I’m ready to say goodbye.” Once you started, you couldn’t stop. A part of you wished he would interrupt and maybe ask for your email or phone number so you could continue to keep in contact, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. Whatever this was, this odd one-sided friendship, stayed and died here. “It was fun talking to you. Even if you were a dick.” You gave the man a smile, you hoped that it was seen as happy, teasing one. “I liked this one-sided friendship. Even if it hadn’t lasted for long.” You bite down on your lips, your teeth dragging against your dry, bottom lip and you reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your chapstick, rubbing the tube with your fingers before clenching it in one hand. “It was nice knowing you Tomaraki. Take care, okay?”

You didn’t wait for his reply- you knew that you wouldn’t get one. You scrolled your mouse of to the telephone outline, and as you were about to click it, his voice rasped out, telling you to wait. Startled you pulled back, the mouse jerked downwards, moving past the outline and you stared at him, eyes wide and head cocked to the side, waiting for him to speak further.

He hadn’t known why he shouted for you to wait. He didn’t even want to talk to you in the first place, it was your promise that you would leave him alone that even convinced him to accept your request but here he was, barking at you to wait as you stared at him with owlish eyes and a closed mouth as you gave him the floor to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he sounded so frantic at the thought of you leaving and then quitting the game, any form of communication getting erased within minutes.

“I,” he started out, grateful that the screen was black on his end, his hands coming up to pick at his neck, “What’s that?” He was going to kick himself later, he was sure of it.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing before landing on the tube in your hand. “This?” You held the tube upright, a confused smile gracing your features. “It’s chapstick. It’s uh-” you turned the tube over, looking for the label where it stated its flavor- “It’s vanilla honey flavored.” You opened the tube and rubbed the chapstick on your lips, smacking them together. “Why? You looking for recommendations?”

He decided to go for a truth, knowing that it wouldn’t give anything away. “I have dry lips.”

“Oh.” You pursed your lips, and you scratched at the area where your jawline meets your neck. “I’m not knowledgeable about the different types of chapsticks, I usually like to get the ones that have a nice flavor. I had this peppermint one but I lost it. Are you drinking enough water? That should help too. You could also try lip scrubs. You don’t have to buy them, you could always make them at home but you’d need brown sugar for a rougher feel.” You rambled on, moving your hands around, and his eyes stayed trained at your moving hands, your voice growing distant. He could only hum in response as you continued to talk and mention stores that sold lip scrubs.

“Uh, Toma? You there?” You asked, your hands clenching and bringing them closer to your chest.

He raised his eyebrows at the sound of a nickname. “Toma?”

“Hah, uh yeah. Tomaraki is too long, I mean unless you want me to call you something else?” You seemed invested with continuing the conversation and he could understand why. You always craved attention- always undermined your skills, all so someone could praise you. But why did he want to continue this conversation? Was it simply because he had someone talk to him about mundane things, things that didn’t carry so much weight? Was it because you treated him as if he were a person first, rather than a villain?

“No. No I don’t mind.” His voice came out softer than he expecting, than you were expecting given that your eyes widen, your mouth pulled into an ‘o’ shape before you smiled gently at him, your lips turning slightly upwards.

“Okay.” You held your breath for a second. “Do you wanna call me by my name?” Your voice was soft, matching his tone from earlier.

He wanted to snap at you, asking why he would even want to but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know how to answer you without snapping. But you took pity on him, his silence deafening and you told him your name, you voice sweet and heating him up from within, the heat pooling in his stomach before travelling upwards into his chest, a momentary blast of warmth before it faded away. He tested your name on his tongue, the word heavy and foreign on his tongue. He repeated your name, the odd feeling being replaced by familiarity.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” You smiled, your tone playful but still soft, as you sank deeper into your mattress, your legs aching in protest from being in a still position for so long.

He didn’t have a comeback. He remained silent, repeating your name in his head, the tone of your voice when you asked him if he had wanted to know and when you spoke it, invading all of his thoughts.

“You know,” you started out, stifling a yawn behind a hand, “if you had wanted to continue this conversation you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind talking to you.”

“You’re tired.” He opted to avoid confirming or denying your accusation.

“It’s late, of course I’m tired.” He suddenly took notice of the way your eyes were starting to droop, how your eyes would widen, forcing them to stay open.

“You should go to bed.” His voice was stiff, he didn’t want to continue this conversation but he saw you frown, your lips downturned, noticing the difference in tone but you quickly smiled, any features of disappointment being erased.

“But this conversation was just getting good,” You whined, another yawn coming out, tears pricking your eyes. “Hey, I got a dumb idea,” you said.

“All your ideas are dumb,” he muttered underneath his breath, missing the fall of your face that disappeared before he could turn back.

“You want my number?” You ran a hand through your hair, swallowing deeply, your mouth suddenly dry and the chapstick on your lips too heavy. “If you want, of course. You don’t have to exchange yours. But you aren’t obligated to reply to me either. Obviously.”

He hesitated to answer; both to see you squirm in your seat but also because he was unsure. Did he want to continue this friendship that would only end sour, that wouldn’t progress further than what it already was. He reasoned to himself that if the friendship was going to stay stagnated, what was the harm of saying yes? What was the harm of talking to you a bit longer?

He nodded his head, only to realize that you couldn’t see him. The only reason you weren’t reporting him to the police, calling and screaming for heroes was because you couldn’t see him. A hand reached over to grab Father, his other hand tugging at the skin on his neck, feeling the cold air of the room sting at the raw flesh. Your reaction to his answer gave him an odd sense of pride on how you had swelled up, giving him a wide grin, the smile reaching your eyes and you sat up straighter, asking him if he was ready and you began to tell him your phone number, repeating it to make sure he had gotten it down correctly, the grin on your lips never leaving.

Ten minutes later, your account was deleted, all assets transferred over to Toma. Your eyes burned with sleep, the blankets on top of you suddenly weighed a ton, and right before you gave in to sleep, butterflies slowly started to form in your stomach.

In a dark room, only lit up by the screen of his phone, Shigaraki stays up, his eyes burning with the need for sleep as he just stares blankly at the your number. He wonders to himself why he had even agreed to accept your number, but he couldn’t go back in time and reject your offer- the most he could do was not message you. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back and forth between ignoring you tomorrow or attempt to have a conversation with you.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #i havent touched this in a while #i made a few changes to it #yikes #reading #its a slow burn for those who are interested #anyways #should have a new one shot in two days #so adios #ciays

188 notes · View notes

ununniliad · 4 years

Text

WikiLull EXHALE: “After the After”

November 15th, 2016. The lawn outside LNHQ, which is currently in the process of being rebuilt.

There was a great battle here.

...well, since this is the headquarters of the LNH, there have been many great battles here, and many more yet to come. But today feels like the day after a great, terrible battle, tho in fact it's been a week; coming down from the edge is like that, sometimes. And in a way it's been much longer, almost four years; recovering from trauma is like that, sometimes.

Nevertheless, the battle is over. There's a wind through the trees, blowing off the brightly-colored leaves; the world is stepping back, sitting down, and letting out its breath.

A single oak leaf, red and mottled with brown spots, tumbles down through the air, whirling in the cool autumn breeze. It flips, floats down... and disappears into a bubble of swirling darkness, inky colors shimmering and shifting like an oil slick on its surface. The bubble grows to the side of a person, then pops - and Cheesecake-Eater Lad and Token Girl tumble to the ground. A moment later, a tall, muscular blond woman with red eyes and subtle Star Trek-ian ridges on her face lands solidly on her feet - Captain LNH.

Token Girl coughs, pushing herself up, hands on her knees. "Whew. Felt like I was gonna turn inside-out."

Captain LNH chuckles, helping her to her feet. "That's what it's like, traveling from Looniverse-Astaroth, gateway to the Deep Omnilooniverse."

"Yeah, I think I liked it better back when we called it alt.comics.lnh." Token Girl stretches her arms, hands palm-out in front of her, and lets out a tension-releasing yawn. "How're you doing, Cheesy?"

Cheesecake-Eater Lad pounds himself on the chest and coughs. "Good thing I have such a strong stomach, that's all I'm saying." He shakes his head and turns to Captain LNH. "And you really want to... I mean, of course it's your decision."

Captain LNH nods firmly. "It is, and I do. I'm not..." She looks up at the LNHQ. "Not ready to come back."

"I get it... I think." Cheesecake-Eater Lad puts on a brave smile, but its edges start drooping. "I'm just... you spent so long in your own head. Uh, you didn't have a body at the time, but you know what I mean."

"Right, yeah. But not..." Captain LNH grabs her own shoulder, squeezes it. "Not all of us heal by talking about it. At least not right away."

oh god please let me step away from this awkward conversation, thinks Token Girl.

"Right. Well." Cheesecake-Eater Lad takes Captain LNH's hand, puts his over it. "I support you. And the Deep Omnilooniverse couldn't have a better defender."

Captain LNH smiles, a soft wave of starlight rolling thru her hair. "And the regular Looniverse couldn't have a better Anchor of Indulgence."

Cheesecake-Eater Lad chuckles. "Yeah, uh, you'll have to ask Unixepoch what that actually means, the next time you talk to him." He let go of her hands, and she took a step back.

"Will do. See you later, Tara!" Captain LNH begins to float up in the air, cosmic energy coalescing around her body.

Token Girl lets out a breath. "Right. Looking forward to it! Bring me some of the anime merch Looniverse-Murmur has, it looked amazing!"

Captain LNH laughs. "Gotcha. Oh, and keep an eye on the Loonited States for me. That new president..." She shakes her head, smiling. The energies swirl around her body, forming into a swirling bubble of bright colors, shafts of light shining out from the globular mass. It shimmers bright - then seems to zoom away, from every angle, until it is out of sight.

Cheesecake-Eater Lad takes off his toque, runs his hands thru his hair. "Whew." He turns to Token Girl. "We should probably--"

WHUMPF! He's lifted off his feet and up into the arms of a tall, pudgy, freckled woman who showers his face with kisses. "Oh my goodness dear I missed you!"

He squirms in her arms and laughs, wriggling out and onto the ground. "Jeez, hon." His cheeks are a-blush, and Token Girl smirks. "It was only a couple hours."

"Yes, and a couple decades before that, so forgive me my clinginess." She pulls him in close and presses him to her side.

He wiggles pleasantly, and a lithe, athletic woman in an abbreviated ninja outfit walks around his other side. She leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Hearty Homecoming, Husband! Our Wonderful Wife Was Worried, but your Safety Surely Seemed Secure, by Superhuman Skill and Cosmic Competence!" She slides in, snuggling both of them and smiling at Token Girl.

Cheesecake-Eater Lad blushes. "Ah, I believe you know my wives, aLLiterative Lass and Petunia Boonspackle."

Token Girl nods! "Right. aLLi's a co-worker, of course, and I met Petunia back during the whole Neme.sys thing."

"Ah yes, Tara the Multinaut!" Petunia releases Cheesecake-Eater Lad in order to clasp Token Girl's hand in both of her large, warm hands. "Thank you so much, for helping weave our timelines together."

"Aw, don't worry about it," says Token Girl, blushing herself. Gosh, this lady's presence feels comforting, like a crackling fireplace. "I've always been a shipper, anyway. And if the history where Cheesy's alive can coexist with the one where he's dead, it's a minor problem to make the one where he's married to Petunia coexist with the one where he's married to aLLi."

"'Specially Since Sapphic Sisters Surely Sign-off," says aLLiterative Lass. "Truly, Triads Treat Tenderly. Will you Witness our Wonderful Wedding?"

"Er..." Token Girl's eyes swivel back and forth. "Aren't you already...?"

"Separately," notes Petunia, "but since polygamous marriage is legal in this timeline [The Liminals #1 - Footnote Flower Girl], we wanted to let everybody know that this isn't two marriages, or even three, it's one big one." She puts her arm around aLLi, who rests her head on the taller woman.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," smiles Token Girl. "...unless I have to save the world that day, of course."

"Then that can be your present," says Petunia, smiling wide and giving Token Girl a thumbs-up.

"Precipitant Perfidy is a Powerful Possibility with that Present President," says aLLi, rolling her eyes.

"Now, now, let's save the politics for later. For now, we must be off~" Petunia hefts a squeaking Cheesecake-Eater Lad up under one arm, and aLLi under the other. "Picking up the daughters~"

"Right! See you later!" Token Girl chuckles under her breath as she watches them head off. Maybe this is what being the Looniversal Anchor of Indulgence means - making the people around you happy by making yourself happy. Well, good - they all deserve to be happy for a very long time.

She looks up at the clear blue sky, streaked with whispery clouds, and feels herself inch back from that sense of panic and emergency. There will be more emergencies, more world-shaking battles; but for now, she strolls casually back into LNHQ, looking for cheesecake.

The usual crowd is milling about in the lobby, chatting, getting the mail, rushing out to desperately stop a net.villain, learning the true meaning of Armistice Day, and so on. Subtle breezes flow thru the room, the tarp over the partially-destroyed wall flapping in the wind.

Token Girl makes her way thru the crowd with practiced skill, heading towards the hallway door until she spies a cluster of people and people-like entities that she can't let herself miss.

Escape Lass hefts a bowl of apples under her arm. "...can't sustain over-the-air signals, they just bleed out between the dimensional apertures, so we'll have to lay cable the whole way."

"Which is a problem," speaks the bowl of apples, in fact the MicroMAC Quadcore, "since it is an indeterminate distance which, likely, shall change in indeterminable ways over time."

"Right," says Escape Lass, voice filling with problem-solving enthusiasm, "which-- oh, Tara!" She bounces in her blue short-sleeve straitjacket towards Token Girl, wrapping her free arm around her and squeezing her tight to her side.

Token Girl squirms in surprise, but laughs. "Hey, Evie. Y'all about to head out?"

"I think we are," says Escape Lass, letting go of Token Girl and putting Quadcore in her arms. Token Girl blinks at the robot in disguise, who doesn't blink back, as his form currently lacks eyes. "Foreshadowing Lad, how's it looking?"

"Hmmmm..." Foreshadowing Lad stretches out an arm clad in green spandex, and smiles up at Escape Lass. "Feels like we're almost at a happy ending."

Escape Lass grins, takes Foreshadowing Lad's hand, spins him around, dips him back and kisses him, then lets him go~ The young man stumbles back into the arms of his other partner, Non-Judgmental Agnostic, who squeezes him in a tight hug.

"Man, everybody's in a triad nowadays," says Token Girl, chuckling and handing Quadcore back.

"We'd invite you in and make it a quad," says Non-Judgmental Agnostic in her soft, tinkling, quasi-divine voice, "but I'm afraid it would turn into a Great LNH Polycule and swallow Net.ropolis."

Token Girl flushes. "Uh, so uh, y'all are going to make your way back to your world, Escape Lass?"

Escape Lass nods firmly. "Right. We're going to head down into the depths of the LNHQ, down to the point where the LNHQs of different universes start mingling to save on storage space, and find our way home to the Legacy of Newfangled Hierophants."

"Newly designated Looniverse-Bael," speaks Quadcore.

"That's right, in the Deep Omnilooniverse... ah, dammit." Token Girl tsks at herself. "We could've had Captain LNH take you back."

Escape Lass shakes her head! "No, don't forget, we have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs back."

"Preferably in the form of interuniversal messaging system," speaks Quadcore. "If we can overcome these significant technical issues."

"That's right," nods Token Girl, dislodging some of the details she learned during that whole confusing shebang. "You got a lot of people who'd like to emigrate."

"Right, tho your Looniverse isn't our main destination." Escape Lass smiles down at Quadcore. "Somebody made us a better offer."

"Ohhhh..." Token Girl looks between the lady and the robot and it clicks. "Ohhhhh-- with *them*!"

Escape Girl laughs, fingers half-covering her mouth as her eyes sparkle, and nods. "Right."

"That's-- wow," says Token Girl, processing the idea. "A world with tiny robots and giant humans feels very Deep Omnilooniverse, but it's not what I would have expected them to--"

"Cower, fools!" A figure leaps into their midst, with the swish of a cape! He rolls back his head and opens his mouth to let out a megalomaniacal cackle!

"Ah-ha-ha-ha! Mueh-heh-heh-heh! ...how was that?"

"... it sounds like you're making progress!" says Non-Judgmental Agnostic supportively!

The figure smiles in delight. He looks like a very normal person, with hair a few tones darker than his skin and eyes that are a color. The only odd things about him are the crimson circuitry running down from his eyes, over his chin and down his neck, and the symbol on his forehead - a stylized sword tucked into a breast pocket, with fancy monogrammed initials on it - PE, for the Pocket Empire!

"...cool, hi," says Token Girl, eyeing the man. She'll have to catch up with WikiBoy on all his weird clones later, but for now, she's pretty sure this is... "wIkimus Maximus, right?"

"Correct!" says wIkimus proudly, idly battling his cape out of the way.

"Or should we call you..." Escape Lass tosses Quadcore to wIkimus and points a dramatic finger. "Our most thrilling enemy!"

wIkimus juggles Quadcore for a moment before getting his arms solidly under the bowl, then looks back at Escape Lass. "Mwa-ha-heh-heh-ho! That's right! Now that I have deposed the foolish Antiochus XXVIII, I am the one true leader of the Pocket Empire!"

"God, and thank you for doing that," says Escape Lass, shaking her head. "Um, and argh you fiend and such."

Token Girl has her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised. "That's a heck of a thing."

"It probably seems strange," says Non-Judgmental Agnostic, smiling. "But on many worlds, the rivalry of support is one of the strongest social bonds there is."

Token Girl nods, and leans away from the dramatically-proclaiming nerds so that her worlds can go straight to the ears of Non-Judgmental Agnostic and Foreshadowing Lad. "So... what happened to CassAIndra?"

Foreshadowing Lad sighs, a heavy weight on his brow. "Multi-Tasking Man thinks he can fix her."

"He'd be the one if anyone was," murmurs Non-Judgmental Agnostic. "They know each other from the inside out, now."

"Fair. I just wanted to thank her... well, hopefully I'll get the chance." Token Girl shakes her head. "And WikiMan?"

"His WikiPowers are lost," says Foreshadowing Lad, "and I don't see a future where he gets them back. He's now a fixed narrative being, based on his last edit."

"I don't think he minds much, tho," says Non-Judgmental Agnostic. "He gets to experience the childhood he never did the first time, with the MicroMACs as his friends."

Token Girl nods thoughtfully, eyes on Escape Lass and wIkimus. "And... mmm." She shakes her head. "I don't know. It feels strange that all the different factions, the Pocket Empire and the Guardiettes and the AniMACs and the MicroMicroMACs and everybody else, are still going to keep fighting each other, even tho..." Her forehead wrinkles, and she looks up at Non-Judgmental Agnostic. "Like, do they really have a reason?"

Non-Judgmental Agnostic turns her eyes up to the skylight over the foyer, watching the clouds swoosh by. She takes a deep breath, and in an 'I am reciting this from memory' voice, says, "Ever since the Trademarkers used their Alterscope to spy on the RoboMAC worlds, the MicroMACs have been fighting battles for the entertainment of others." She smiles at Token Girl. "They can be more than that, now. They already are. But doing huge, dramatic, splashy stuff for an audience - that's part of them."

"Like it's part of the LNH," says Foreshadowing Lad, nodding.

"Heh. I guess so..." Token Girl turns to Escape Lass and wIkimus Maximus and snaps her fingers, giving them the fingerguns. "Okay, I'm gonna head off. Catch you all on the flipside."

"Oh, before you go!" Escape Lass bounds forward and catches her in a hug. Token Girl squirms in obvious embarassment and quiet delight, and hugs her back.

After she's let go, Token Girl waves and heads out of the foyer and down the winding corridors of LNHQ, towards the cafeteria. As she turns a corner, a figure staring off into space collides with her, both of them falling on their butts.

"--oh, sorry!" The other one scrambles to his feet, and Token Girl can see that it's Can-Handle-Any-Type-of-Change-Except-For-the-Ultimate-Ninja-Wearing-a-Cape Lad, three-time winner of the Longest Name in the Legion contest.

"That's okay," she says, helping him up. "But are you all right? You seem, uh, distracted."

He shakes his head, blushing just a bit. "It's just..." He looks over his shoulder, then leans in to murmur. "I'm afraid my powers are malfunctioning."

"Ohhhh?" Token Girl felt a slight tinge of worry. CHAToCEFtUNWaCLad was a relatively new Legionnaire, but had already become one of their dependable stalwarts.

He nods firmly. "I saw Ultimate Ninja walk by the cape closet, and..." He breathes just a bit deeper. "I didn't feel anything."

"...ah." Token Girl's worry becomes a different kind of... melancholy, really. She had been right there when it happened, but...

"Me too!" Puts-Paperclips-on-The-Ultimate-Ninja's-Desk Lad, three-time loser of the Least Useful Power in the Legion contest, popped into the conversation out of nowhere. "I just got a new jar of clips and they've just been sitting in a drawer all week!"

"Oh, man!" says Can-Handle-Any-Type-of-Change-Except-For-the-Ultimate-Ninja-Wearing-a-Cape Lad. "It's weird, isn't it?"

"It's super weird!"

"Mmmm..." Token Girl draws in a breath. "Well, maybe you should go to Doctor Stomper and have him check up on your powers."

"Ooh, yeah, good idea. Thanks, TG!" The two of them head off in the general direction of sickbay, chattering about the weirdness of the day.

Token Girl rubs her upper arm, getting some of that stiff tension out. She was there when it happened, but... she's not supposed to say anything. She's still not really sure that was the right choice, but it's...

Well, it's what Ultimate Ninja wanted, so.

She makes it down to the cafeteria, grabs a slice of one of Betamax's weird culinary experiments (in this case, pizza with black bean sauce and cotija cheese), reflills her canteen from the water filter, and takes ten to relax, sip, eat and process.

Just about ten minutes later: "Hey, mind if I sit here?"

Token Girl is tired enough that her first impulse is to pull out one of her trademark snappy comebacks so she doesn't have to People any more. But she recognizes the voice, and its owner doesn't count as a People, he counts as a Friend; so she looks up and gives a tired but sincere smile. "Yeah, sure!"

And Wikiboy sits down, putting his Szechuan tacos and soda on the table and smiling back, with just a touch of hard-earned confidence. "How've you been?"

"I've been..." Token Girl rolls her mind over a chaotic landscape of emotion... "I've been a lot. How about you?"

"Uh... also a lot, I think." Wikiboy adjusts his hair and straightens up. "Adjusting to how my powers work now, and the new... part of me, I guess you'd call it."

Token Girl nods, the questions that have been on her mind for a while rolling to the front. "Yeah, uh, did you absorb, like... the whole Apathy Beast, or...?"

"It felt like it at the time, but now it just feels like..." WikiBoy puts his hand over his chest, and takes a deep breath, stilling. "...like an extra bit of... weight? Calmness? Metaphysical machinery?" He shrugs! "Something like."

"Right. But you can still be edited?"

"Yeah, that still works about the same way. It's just that I can ignore edits if I really want to." He looks out the window. "It's kind of... the power to Not Care."

A little wave of regret sloshes on the shores of Token Girl's brain. "Gotcha. ..can you edit yourself?"

WikiBoy stares out the window, quiet for a long while. "...I don't know. When... when we were all together, all in one body, I could, but... I haven't tried since." He takes another deep breath, straightens up, and turns to her with a smile. "Someday, I guess. But right now, it feels like..." His smile droops just a bit at the edges. "WiKaine messed himself up real bad by editing out everything he couldn't stand."

Token Girl summons up her ultra-secret net.ahuman power, Being Distractingly Light and Humorous. "You mean Axen Kiwi, the No One of WikiBoy, right?"

WikiBoy blinks, then laughs. "Oh, god, yeah. I forgot about all the convoluted video game nonsense for a bit."

She grins. "Kingdom Hearts references are the natural destination of ridiculously convoluted crossover plotting."

"They really are." He shakes himself and runs his hands thru his hair, blushing a bit as he realizes how vulnerable he'd been. "I think he ran off into the Deep Omnilooniverse in the end. I hope he finds something to..."

"...put in that literal heart-shaped hole in his chest?" Seeeecret power!

"Oh, god, that's right. WikiBoy laughs. "Jeez our lives are hilarious sometimes." He shakes his head ruefully. "I didn't really get that, when I was the butt of all the jokes."

Oh no, the secret power backfired and now a huge wave of guilt is swamping Token Girl's brain! "I'm--" She stumbles. "I'm sorry if I ever--"

WikiBoy holds up a hand and looks her in the eyes. "Don't worry about it, please."

"...you sure?"

He picks up his taco and gives a big, performative bite, chewing and swallowing. "I was--" Slurp crunch smack. "I was created to be the butt of all the jokes, the one who just takes abuse because it's not as funny if I get revenge. That's who my Writer needed me to be... a harmless fantasy, something you write to find the happy buttons in the folds of your own brain and push them, and maybe find other people with the same buttons that'll enjoy it. That's who I was, then, and... I'm kinda proud of it?" He takes another bite, and licks his fingers. "Yeah, definitely this weird existential pride."

"I don't really get it," says Token Girl, "buuuuut that's good?"

WikiBoy giggles and lets out a little snort. "Yeah, it is. But then other writers got ahold of me, ones with different buttons, and they decided to take the elements of the fantasy and use them for a different kind of story. Like Jay Edidin embracing Chris Claremont's version of Lee and Kirby's Cyclops - finding the part that appeals to you. That's what collaborative fiction universes are about. And now I'm who I am right now." He pulls out a wet-wipe and cleans off his fingers. "There's plenty of room in there for different interpretations, too. I still get into wacky unfortunate comedic peril." He tosses the wipe on his tray and leans back in his chair. "I dunno. It's weird to think about who I used to be, but... yeah, I'm not sorry I was him."

Token Girl looks at WikiBoy, relaxing, thoughtful, and warmth swells in her chest. "I'm proud of you, man."

"Awh. Well." WikiBoy blushes, straightens up, and grabs the rest of his taco, shoving it in his mouth and mumbling "Thanks." around the food.

Token Girl chuckles. "So, uh... what haven't we... oh, yeah, WikiCide. He decided to become your evil opposite, huh?"

"Yeah~" WikiBoy swallows. "I'm proud of him, too. He's had a longer path than I have, even, but I think he's gonna do a great job."

"Four outta five ain't bad, I think," says Token Girl.

WikiBoy nods, and streeeetches and yaaaaaaaawns. "Mmmmm... I think I'm gonna go take a post-lunch nap."

"Hey, nap buddies~" Token Girl holds up her fist, and WikiBoy bumps it. She stands up and stretches. "See ya when I see ya."

"See ya too, assuming I have eyes at that point." WikiBoy stands up and picks up his tray.

Token Girl turns to go... ponders for a moment. "Hey, WikiBoy?" She snaps her fingers. "You're an SD Deathscythe."

"...yeah, sure~" WikiBoy poofs into an adorably chibi battle robot holding a glowing laser scythe, and toddles off on his chunky robotic feet.

Token Girl makes her way out of the cafeteria and down to her room without any more run-ins. She shuts the door and leans back on it, closing her eyes. Jeez, what a day. And it isn't over yet, but she can kick off her big stompy boots, hang up her button-covered denim jacket, flop into bed, cuddle a body pillow with a badass anime girl on it, and take a nap.

...she dreams of patterns in the sky, lines that aren't lines and gods that are great rotating symbols, and she watches the lines separate until the symbol is gone, and she watches Discord wave as she passes...

Token Girl wakes up 23 minutes after her alarm was supposed to go off. Oh, crap, she's supposed to get the Metatronium Sifter back in-- oh crap oh crap oh crap!!

She pushes her feet into her boots and wiggles her heels into place, grabs her jacket, and charges down the hallway to the transporter room. Parking Karma Kid is there, sitting behind the console and watching a compliation of ridiculous Grand Theft Auto vehicle tricks on his phone.

"Pete!" Token Girl says, leaping onto a transporter.thingy pad.thingee. "Gotta be at a place right exactly now! Address!" She throws a paper airplane at him.

Parking Karma Kid catches it out of the air and unfolds it. "So you're asking me to drop you off, not in some open space at sea level, but inside a mid-city building on the fifth floor?"

Token Girl nods desperately!!

Parking Karma Kid cracks his knuckles. "Thanks! But next time, give me a hard one!" His fingers dance over the console and she's gone~

Token Girl materializes in the hallway outside apartment 507-- whew, only a minute and a half late. She knocks on the door, and a kinda butch lady with short curly hair and devastating cheekbones opens it - "Terrible" Maddie Turnip. Token Girl holds out her hand, Maddie grabs it with a little grin, and they go up, down, left, right, wiggle your pinkies - the old Radikool Kidz Klub secret handshake. Then Maddie pulls her forward unexpectedly into a brief but strong hug that makes Token Girl gasp - not unpleasantly - as the air is squeezed out of her.

Behind Maddie, on the couch, are two people. One is a tall, dark-haired woman with a sort of 40's pinup girl look and an infectuous smile - Forgotten Gal. The other is a scrawny young man of Polish descent, with long blue hair and wearing a lemon-yellow T-shirt and blue jeans - Skrajny the Multinaut.

"C'mon, c'mon, I got a cherry crumble in the oven." Maddie leads Token Girl in and sits her down in a big plush recliner, a plate of dessert pressed into her hands.

"Okay, okay," laughs Token Girl. "But just one slice for me, please, I've got a dinner date." She takes the proffered fork and nibbles - delicious. "Lessee, uh..." She reaches into her satchel and pulls out a weird, septagonal device. "Here ya go, Skrajny."

"Please, call me Kacper." He says 'Casper' but Token Girl's gone thru enough baby naming sites to know how it's spelled. Kacper takes the Metatronium Sifter. "Tho I don't know what I'm gonna do with it."

"We'll figure it out," says Forgotten Gal, squeezing Skrajny's hand and giving him a reassuring smile. Token Girl notices that she's still wearing the Nostalgic Brace she'd gotten... somewhere along the line, Token Girl wasn't really sure. But it counterbalanced her forgettability, for people who had an emotional investment in her - which everyone in the room definitely did.

Token Girl decides to jump directly to the elephant in the room. "You're definitely not going home, then?"

Kacper sucks in a breath, lets it blow out loose lips. "...I want to go back. I want to help my people, the ones who are still trapped in that messed-up imperialist view of the multiverse." He puts his hands out in front of him and shakes his head. "But the Ordered Realities bureaucracy would hunt me down as a deserter even if I wasn't keeping the Idoloid technology. It's much safer, for now, for me to stay in an unregistered world where their influence is strictly indirect."

Maddie nods. "'Sides, this way, we can keep each other safe."

"Hell yeah!" Forgotten Girl pumps her fist. "Heroes together!"

"Woo!" says Kacper, giving a thumbs-up.

Token Girl grins and finishes off her bit of cherry crumble. "I'm glad to have someone like you on the force, Maddie."

"Heh, well." Maddie puts down her beer and gives Token Girl a tired but sincere smile. "Thanks, but I ain't on the force anymore."

"...oh. Uh." Social snafu? Had something happened?? "Sorry???"

"Nah, it's okay." Maddie sits back, arms crossed. "You're right, I was a good cop. But I was mostly good at not being like a cop's supposed to be. And after we found out..." She shakes her head. "Some of Shadez Radikal's people were... acquaintances, maybe even kind of friends. People I thought I could count on - people who'd given me orders. And I thought about those orders..." She shrugs. "I'm done with necessary evils. Or as done as you can be, in this world."

Token Girl let out a breath. "Yeah, that's fair. And like, who even knows what the laws are gonna be like with that new President."

"Oh lord, that guy," says Maddie, shaking her head and tilting her beer back, pouring the rest of it down her throat, then letting out a satisfying belch.

"Coulda been worse, tho," says Forgotten Gal, punching Maddie lightly in the shoulder.

"Yeah," says Token Girl, shaking her head too. "Anyway, what are you gonna do now?"

"You wanna take this one?" Maddie says to Forgotten Gal, who smiles and leans forward.

"We're gonna try and make something new. A place for Weird People."

"While everything was going down, we ended up getting to know some of your Shadow People," says Kacper.

"And we had ideas, and they had ideas..." says Maggie. "And a lotta those ideas were compatible."

"It's gonna be a place where weirdos like us can just, like, live, and support each other," says Forgotten Gal, eyes sparkling with possibility. "Without having to worry about cops, or CEOs, or weird people in frog masks, or any of that."

"Sounds great," says Token Girl. "But..." She rubs her chin thoughtfully. "Isn't that basically the LNH?"

Maggie lets out a little bark of a laugh. "Kid, you got a flippin' ninja death machine for a leader. It ain't an egalitarian society yet, that's for sure."

"...yeah, you know, fair, reasonable."

"Besides," interjects Forgotten Gal enthusiastically, "we can have more than one!"

"We gotta have more than one," says Maddie. "As many as we can get, I think."

Token Girl mmmmmms. "Good point..."

"It's like the Powernauts taught me," says Kacper. "You gotta spread the power around."

Token Girl giggles. "Right, and--" She's interrupted by her phone, which belts out a rousing chorus of 'Yappapa'. "Aw shoot!" She bounces to her feet! "Gotta get going to dinner!"

"Hugs first!" Forgotten Gal leaps up and hugs her, and Token Girl puts up only minimal protest. Maggie pushes herself to her feet and wraps her arms around the both of them with even less protest, and after a hesitant moment, Kacper joins in. Token Girl feels embarassingly warm and snuggly and appreciated, and only lets it go on for so long before she squirms out and away.

"See ya!" Everybody waves as she heads out the door.

This time, she walks to her destination; it's only a few blocks down the street, and exercise is always a useful prelude to the kind of food you get at the Pizza Pit.

At the door, she checks her phone; 7:57 PM. Awesome, just a couple minutes early. She slides inside and finds a place to lean up against the wall, looking up at the stage. She wouldn't want to miss this - the very last performance of the Cool Name Band.

Merissa is absolutely shredding on the bass, and Kid Occultism Kid is leading on guitar. Keeping up the beat is, of course, Deathspork: The Terminator on drums, with accompaniment by Amnesiac Brad Pitt on saxophone. And belting out the vocals at the top of her lungs is the one and only top of the pops, Rock'n'Roll Lass!

The crowd looks up from their pizzas, at the stage usually reserved for animatronic animals and karaoke performances of Baby Shark, enraptured by the sudden sense of something special happening; a magical alchemy that will disappear after tonight, and somehow, that feels okay; somehow, that feels right.

Token Girl leans back and lets the sound wash over her; the secret chord that pleased Discord. She hadn't been able to appreciate it properly before, either during the Secret War of the Bands or during the moment they had played to the universe itself. Now... her eyes lid, and her breath slows, and something opens up in her chest, and she lets it flow thru her...

When the music ends, she opens her eyes, stands up, and streeeetches. It feels like she's taken another nap, but she's absolutely brimming with energy...

"Thank you, Net.ropolis!" shouts Rock'n'Roll Lass. "Never forget where the rock came from! Good night!" The curtains swish closed, and Token Girl slips around the side and heads backstage.

The five of them are in the dressing room, taking off their stage makeup and chatting, letting themselves wind down too. Token Girl knock-knocked and leaned in. "Hey! Got a minute for your biggest fan?"

All five look up and all five smile, tho Deathspork's expression is annoyed at his own happiness. Rock'n'Roll Lass crosses the room, grabs Token Girl's hand, and pulls her up close in a sororal fist-clasp. "Glad you could make it, babe."

Token Girl feels that warmth rise to her cheeks again. "Wouldn't miss seeing y'all off!"

"Indeed, you are just in time!" Deathspork rises, having strapped his drums to a wheely cart, and gestures grandly. "For our alliance has been fruitful-- but now it must end! You have earned my respect, but the next time we meet, it will be-- as enemies!!"

Merissa rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. "Dude. PLEASE get over yourself and you might stop sucking."

"Verily," speaks Kid Occultism Kid, "you have far greater potential than you allow yourself to know. Especially on the drums."

"Bah!" Deathspork opens the stage door and sweeps dramatically out of the Pizza Pit. Tries to sweep dramatically out of the Pizza Pit. Trips on the steps and falls out of the Pizza Pit.

Screaming.

"...right," says Token Girl. "How about you, babe?"

Rock'n'Roll Lass laughs. "Yeah, I'm headed off too. Got to get back to the '60s and make sure all the 'classic rock' isn't being produced by white boys." She shakes her head. "'Classic'. Man, what a trip."

"Hang it loose!" says Amnesiac Brad Pitt, throwing up the horns.

Rock'n'Roll Lass raises her eyebrows and chuckles. "Yeah, you do you! G'night, folks!" She steps carefully over Deathspork, and disappears into the night.

"I have taken the liberty of ordering our repast for the evening!" Kid Occultism Kid thrusts out a hand, and the wood warps within the dressing room wall, turning into a mystic swirly portal! "Shall we?"

Merissa rolls her eyes. "You really didn't need to be that extra." She walks up to the door... and blasts it into tiny pieces with her Ultra-Mega-BIGGUN! "Not when you could be that extra!" >:D

"oh my god you nerds." Token Girl stepped thru the pieces of broken door, pulling Amnesiac Brad Pitt along with her. Kid Occultism Kid waves their hands, and a giant arrow appears, guiding them to their table. A waitress drops off their pizza and gets Merissa's signature, and they dive in.

"So," says Token Girl, dipping one of their gloriously greasy breadsticks into marinara, "how are you holding up, Brad?"

"Ah..." Amnesiac Brad Pitt shakes his head. "I don't think I'm going to call myself that anymore." He gets up and stands behind his chair, putting one hand on the faded First Trenchcoat draped over it. "After the other Brad Pitts formed the Idolon of Millions and sacrificed themselves, the idea of holding up that name, that legacy... that's not what I am."

Kid Occultism Kid swallows and says, "And what, then, would you be?"

"I'm just a memory of what came before." The former Amnesiac Brad Pitt puts on the First Trenchcoat and turns towards the door, but stops for a moment, looks back. "I'm just... a Memento."

"...uh," says Merissa, "you weren't in that movie."

He freezes. "Wait, really?"

"Are you thinking of Guy Pearce, maybe?" says Kid Occultism Kid.

"Well shit." The still-nameless Idolon turns around and sit back down at the table. "So... how about that election?"

The tension breaks and the table turns into a caophony of nods, sighs, mumbles and eyerolls.

"Like jeez that new President," says Merissa, shaking her head. "I mean, I was too busy to run, but..."

"Yeah," says Token Girl, "but... it could definitely have been worse."

Merissa pauses, remembering, and nods firmly. "Yeah, it really could..."

"And for now," says Kid Occultism Kid, "we shall look forward, to the future. To what we can do to keep this from happening again - to make things truly better."

"Hear, hear," says Mr. What's-His-Name.

Between them, the foursome quickly finish off the pizza, the breadsticks, and the side order of wings. Token Girl lets out a satisfied belch, and Merissa gives her a high-five. "Okay," she says, "I'm gonna head back to LNHQ, how 'bout y'all?"

"I'll totes come with," says Merissa, picking up her bass.

"I shall stay here and help our friend consult on a new moniker," says Kid Occultism Kid.

"yeah thanks," says you-know-who.

The two of them head out the door, into the cool autumn night, gibbous moon waning overhead. As they walk, Token Girl feels Merissa's demeanor change, from the chill relaxed lady she likes to project to the insecure teenager-esque being she actually is (in Token Girl's estimation). Something wants to come out, but it can't be forced, so she waits...

They're almost there when Merissa turns to her and bursts out with a "So hey..."

"Yeah?" says Token Girl, like she hadn't been waiting.

"It's just..." Merissa fidgets, and her face wrinkles up in the frustration of being kuudere, trying to hold back her feelings to maintain her persona of Cool. Thankfully, she isn't very good at it, and the words come spilling out. "Do you really think we can make stuff better? Like, the world almost went totally to shit! It's fucked up in so many different ways! I don't think..." Her voice softens, and she turns her gaze away. "I don't think anybody, no matter how cool and powerful they are, can deal with it by themselves."

Shit. Token Girl does not consider herself anything like 'good at this stuff'. Fearless Leader or Catalyst Lass would be much better at the encouraging speeches, and Special Bonding Boy or Fairy Princess Lad would be much much better at the talking about feelings. But, well, she was there and now she's here, so she takes a deep breath and...

"...yeah, I think you're right. Like... during all the shit that happened, all of the crazy and cosmic and depressing and amazing stuff-- I couldn't have done any of it by myself. Which..." Okay, here goes. "Which is why we all had to do that together. So many of us had to take it on from so many different angles, your band, the Powernauts, Captain LNH and Cheesecake-Eater Lad, the MicroMACs, Maddie and Forgotten Gal, Escape Lass and WikiMan, all the WikiBoys, all of us... We had to come from different places, different backgrounds, different powersets and different stations in life, because we were all needed, we all helped in different ways."

Merissa's eyes are wide and-- oh, dear, yes, they're sparkling. Well, at least it's working - better wrap up while she's ahead.

"So like... yeah, I do think we can stuff better, but only if we keep doing that. If we all value each other's efforts, and don't stop supporting each other - the front line fighters, the healers and comforters, the big public speakers, the logistics nerds, the hyperspecialists..." Token Girl chuckles. "And the token weirdos like me, who just happened to be in the right time and place to kinda, give a little push in a helpful direction."

"...hey!" says Merissa, snorting. "Don't be so down on yourself, grandma. You did a lot of the work too." She shrugs~ "Not as much as me, of course~"

Token Girl laughs. Oh thank fuck it worked. "Grandma, eh? Well, sonny, er, little lady... no, that sounds dumb, I don't know how grandmas talk."

Merissa lets out a gigglesnort. "Okay, okay, so stop talking. See you in the morning, I'm gonna do something cooler than hanging out with you~" She runs down the sidewalk to the back door of the LNHQ, swings it open, and yells, "Also you're rad and thanks!" before disappearing.

Token Girl chuckles, running her hands thru her hair as she saunters thru the back door. Whew. It's been a day of far too many emotions... time to vegetate.

She finds her way to the TV room, the hallways gently guiding her as always. Forsaken Lass and Net.Access are on one of the overstuffed couches, making out and oblivious to the world around them, so she flops down on the other one, next to Fuzzy. "What's on the boob tube?"

"Well, I don't watch the news a lot," says Fuzzy, flipping from channel to channel like it's 1992 or something. "But I figured this was important." She stops on an image of a podium with American flags around it. Vaguely stirring, vaguely patriotic music was playing.

"...welp," says Token Girl, running her hands thru her hair. "Let's do this."

The vague music quiets, and a warm and enthusiastic announcer comes on, completely unfazed by what he's about to say. "Ladies and gentlemen, in his first address to the nation, please welcome the new President-Elect of the Loonited Sates of Ame.rec.a..."

A person walks up to the podium. A person both of them recognize. A person both of them have fought with. And before last week, the last person either of them would have expected to see up there...

"...Bad Judgment Boy!"

The Icon of Ill-Considered Ideas strolls saucily up to the podium. He's wearing a T-shirt with a picture of Che Guevara on it and tight shorts that say "JUICY" on the bottom. He grabs the microphone (causing a screech of feedback) and addresses the nation.

"Hey guys! Wait, there's a teleprompter. My... fellow... Africans..."

An aide runs up to Bad Judgment Boy and whispers urgently in his ear, but he waves them off.

"Look, look, I know you wanted me to talk about the economy or whatever, but let's focus on what's really important: Me! See, I'll be great for the Ame.rec.an people. Most politicians are big in debt to shady figures in industry. But all the shady figures *I*'m in debt to disappeared last week, so it's fine!"

Token Girl watches, open-mouthed, for as long as she can stand. Then she grabs the remote, clicks off the TV, and falls back on the couch. She looks up at Fuzzy. "...well, it coulda been worse, right?"

Fuzzy chuckles. "It really could have. But..." She scratches her head. "I still don't understand how the heck he won!"

Token Girl sits up and shakes her head. "I should head to bed." She stands up, streeeetching out. "But I'll tell you what I can tomorrow." She walks to the door, but turns when she gets there. "And we can start at the end." She gives Fuzzy a wink, then ambles away.

Fuzzy shakes her head. "Good night." She turns to the camera. "And sleep well, when you do."

----

Author's Notes: So, the thing is...

I had SO MANY PLANS for WikiLull. And they grew, and they grew, and they just kept growing. And I realized - what I really wanted WikiLull to be was a catharsis to all the pain and awfulness of the 2016 election, all of its causes and all of its effects. And that's just too big for one story to be.

So instead, I decided to tie off the loose ends, and take a lot of the places Jeanne and I had wanted characters to go and just move them there, and leave the Looniverse with a good status quo. And get it done before the 2020 election, eheheh... just under the wire.

The Deep Omnilooniverse is, of course, a parody of DC's Dark Multiverse. Jeanne and I were originally going to call it the "Dark Omnilooniverse", but using "dark" like that is overdone and carries Weird Racial Overtones, and the play on the idea of the "deep web" was really compelling. All of the Deep Omnilooniverse worlds mentioned in this issue are named after demons from the Ars Goetia, because we're fancy like that. It's not very well-defined here, so feel free to go wild!

#Fiction #Original Fiction #Superheroes #Silliness #Drama #Adventure #Legion of Net.Heroes #Classic LNH #WikiLull

2 notes · View notes

cheswirls · 6 years

Text

The Reality of Nightmares ch 6

i lived, bitch so spoiler: i really didn’t wanna push for sendoff spring, so this is me building on other things before i have to drop them in the lake setting. i know it’s been, like, a year+, sorry. i never forgot about this tho, i jus didn’t know how to handle it and everything else i started around holiday 16.

i’m working on a shorter fic based entirely off a drama to help ease me back into writing for longfics, and that’ll take precedence through this month. once i relearn how to do this, tron will be back in full swing ! so jus consider this an intro to the return, i’ll do a bigger follow-up on everything addressed here before they visit the lake in the next chapter.

She regained consciousness before she regained the strength to open her eyes.

“ . . Faced with multiple lacerations and burns -what happened?”

“Hard to say. Lavana came at us pretty hard with a Magmortar, so some of the burns came from that. As for the others . . Well, she was with Isaac during the final stretch, up the second portion of the tower. He still hasn’t told much, but apparently, they had final encounters with each of the Sinis Trio. I could easily imagine things getting ugly. Especially with Ic-”

“Whaa,” she mumbled, eyelids lifting some, bright blurred forms coming into view. She wasn’t lying down all the way, her upper body propped up by something -pillows, maybe? She blinked and tried to clear her vision, too tired to do much else. In front of her, the forms began to move, one coming around to her side.

“Kate? Kate, it’s Keith. Are you okay?”

“Kei . . ?” She stopped, squinting as her view came into focus. “You look horrible,” she muttered, sniffing.

To her side, Keith stared at her in surprise, not expecting that. After a moment, he cracked up, shaking his head. Catching her confused gaze, he snickered once more. “You should see yourself, hun.”

“Mysel . .” She trailed off, looking down at her form. What she could see atop the sheets was covered in bandages, and then didn’t exactly look fresh, sickly orange patches on some, others stacked so much she could’ve sworn peeling them back would reveal bloodsoaked ones near the center. She couldn’t lift her arms. She couldn’t lift her head. Everything ached. She winced, flopped her head back to the side, and opened her mouth to ask Keith what the hell happened when another voice spoke.

“Ah, she’s awake.”

Keith winced and Kate moved her eyes to see Hastings gesturing for the doctor on her other side. He mumbled a few words and he hurried back to her, fidgeting with the machines she was hooked up to. Hastings looked back at her and hummed, lips curling into a frown.

“Maybe debriefing should be moved in here,” he muttered, glancing to Keith. “How long has she been up?”

“You got here just in time,” he replied evenly.

“Hmm.” Hastings stoops on his cane, thinking. Finally, he raises his eyes to meet Keith’s. “You’ve got two days. Make sure she’s up and able to move.” The scientist doesn’t waste another glance at Kate, choosing to turn around and walk out.

Kate lolls her head back to Keith, a question on her face. He shakes his head.

“Mission clear,” he croaks, finally breaking, tears springing to his eyes, happy to see her awake, knowing she was awake.

“You don’t look happy,” Kate tells him.

He turns his head away, biting down on his lip to keep it from trembling with little success. “Things are complicated,” he finally says. “Things are over, but not everything is fixed, not all is normal.”

She’s too tired to think. “What do you mean.”

“You’ll find out.” He locks his eyes with her tired ones, already drooping again. “In two days, forty-eight hours, you’ll see.”

Her room in the Pokemon League was shared with Keith. The beds were comfortable, but they were cold. Everything was cold in this land. But she wasn’t cold now, which concerned her enough to crack open an eye, searching for the source in the darkness.

Heavy breathing fell on her forehead. Her eyes were level with a neck, Keith’s, she assumed. Interesting.

Not that this didn’t happen sometimes. They were -something. She wasn’t sure what. But why, exactly, she couldn’t-

Oh.

Yes she could.

It had started late, with her bursting up in a fit of choked tears and barely-held back whimpers so harshly she fell off the bed, legs tangling in the sheets. Keith was up in an instant, beside her, ever present, and she remembered clinging to him as she settled down, rasping out a name over and over as he whispered to her it’d be okay.

Blake Hall.

Because they never recovered the people swallowed up by the darkness. Darkrai had vanished after her rampage on the machine and the converging of the dark crystal to a purer form. And it wasn’t like the magical superhero shows where the villain is defeated and everything returns to how it once before. The people that were taken never showed back up. They were lost. Missing.

Trapped in the darkness.

She regained control of herself by blocking it out, by letting herself be lead back onto the mattress, by not letting go of his hand until he climbed in after her, a needed presence.

It wasn’t good, to block it all out. But it was how she dealt, for now. It worked, for now. It was fine, for now. And if it held, well, what was the use in changing it?

She glanced out their window without raising her head to see it still dark. Fine. She’d sleep for a bit longer, then.

They had such a long day ahead.

Dahlia didn’t care for the scones at the league.

Not they that were hard as a rock, no, because they weren’t, and no one would like them that way.

It was the fact that they were near perfect. Not burnt, which, again, she could do without. It was the flavor.

Overpowering. Cheri, pecha, rawst, you name it and the scone was packed full of it. It was too much. It was a scone, not a strudel.

“You’re making that face again.”

She scrunched her nose up more and dropped her breakfast pastry. To her right, Thorton breathed out a sigh.

“I know, I know, it’s-”

“Not how it was when Cynthia was here.”

He sighed again, taking a bite of his own meal before replying. “Lots of things have changed. ‘M sorry our current champion doesn’t appreciate the sweetness of the bread more. Deal with it. We won’t be here that long.”

She slumped forward, her upper arm resting in full on the table while her palm lies on her forehead. “So you say. But do you really believe it?”

Thorton shrugged, disinterest in the topic beginning to take form. “The rangers were called.”

“Yeah.” She sat up, then, eyes brimming with . . something. “Do you think they’re qualified?”

“I think they’ve been through shit,” Thorton told her. “I think one of them’s traumatized, and that doesn’t go away. Just look at Maylene.” She grunts in understanding at the last bit. “But here’s the thing: That’s experience. They’ll know what to look for, what to expect. They’ll know how to handle themselves and the people they’re working with. So, yes. Damn right. I think they’re qualified.”

“Okay okay, you’ve convinced me,” she mumbled. “Just, you weren’t right there, with Kate. When she was telling Keith her location, that whole transmission, it was chilling. She was all cheery and shit, after just being put through an underwater cave-in. Said it was her way of dealing with things. Mentioned the last time was when a cargo ship she’d been on sank in the deep waters. That the ocean wasn’t her friend. That’s a shit way of dealing with things, y’know?”

“Sure.” He pushed his plate back, finished just before his appetite went. “Like I said, the girl’s traumatized. It happens. But she’s still pushing.” He leaned forward, cocking his head at her. “Like Argenta said, she’s a fighter. We just gotta trust in her.”

“Oh. You two are up early.”

Thorton expects it, but he still jumps along with Dahlia at Dawn’s voice as she enters, balancing a plate of food and a glass of juice. She pads over and takes a seat across from them, and for a moment, they just stare.

Her eyes were sunken, frown in place, expression worn in general. It’d been like that for a bit now, ever since . .

Her clothes were rumpled, clearly not sleepwear which suggested she’d been up walking through the castle. Again. But she wasn’t dressed for the day either, like she’d thrown on something in a hurry without a care.

What was always interesting and equally disturbing to see were the twin scarves. Today was no different. The red one was coiled tightly around her neck, like it couldn’t get closer, while the pink hung loosely from her shoulders, sides draped down over her chest. It was clear which was prioritized.

Her eyes narrowed, and she stabbed a piece of food before scoffing. “What,” she muttered, chewing slowly as they broke from their trance.

“Where are we going today,” Dahlia asked, recovering first.

Dawn swallowed and paused, thinking. “Dunno,” she settled on. “Wherever they want.”

The frontier brains share a look. For now, they supposed that’d have to be enough.

The port city might actually have been a bit chillier than where they touched down first in the region, which was . . odd, at least for her. Nearly all of Almia’s townships were set by the sea, after all. And it was decent there. The few inhabited spaces that weren’t near the ocean were in the mountains and this was, well . .

Rhythmi spun around after departing the train, her luggage spinning along with her figure. She pulled her League-issued cloak tighter as the breeze picked up.

Nope, they were definitely at sea level.

She made her way out of the station, using the hand not clutching at her suitcase handle to dig out the map she’d been given by the champion. She remembered it being dual-sided as well as having a key and- yep!

The map of elevation showed Canalave and the surrounding area to the east as very flat and very low. The land did rest against a small cliffside to the west, but it wasn’t very prominent-

“Oof,” she choked out, staggering back upon ramming into someone, the map fluttering from her grip.

Before she could issue an apology, the person turned around. Rhythmi thought she had experience being tall, or at least, being around tall people. But this person was . .

The man before her chuckled awkwardly before she stopped her staring, head raised as if she stood before a skyscraper.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered, doing her best to bow slightly without having her bags slip from her grasp.

The man waved her off. “No no, I was in a precarious position anyway, and- oh, you, wait . .” He paused, reaching to grasp at his chin, eyes fluttering closed in thought. They opened back up with a pop a moment later and he nodded as he looked back to her. “You’re the operator from Fiore, aren’t you?”

Rhythmi deadpanned with a hesitant smile, her mouth falling open slightly. She regained herself after a moment, but her tone was still lackluster. “Sir, there are no operators in Fiore. They’re all stationed in Almia.”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, my fault,” he waved off, reaching a hand up to rub his head sheepishly.

“I suppose you were the person I needed to meet, seeing as you were expecting an operator?”

“Yes,” the man said, nodding. “My apologies, miss. I am Byron, the gym leader here in Canalave. I’ve been instructed to guide you to your operating base, and also to keep an eye on you, make sure you stay safe.”

She frowned at that, the thought of her well being being left to someone she didn’t know unsatisfactory. Also the fact she was simply assigned a burly bodyguard for the heck of it, like this was some show. And the gym leader, at that. Wouldn’t he be busy enough? Besides, it’s not like she couldn’t defend herself. She’d picked up a thing or two from working with the Union. Byron seemed to pick up on that, as he leaned forward slightly.

“Think of it this way, then: You’re not exactly in the safest place in the world, right? So-” He broke off upon seeing horror dawn on her face. “Oh, no no not here! Here is good! I meant, well, Sinnoh in general right now. And your friends are on the case to hunt down whoever or whatever is causing this. And since you have ties to them, it just, well, it wouldn’t hurt to be careful, right?”

Now thoroughly disturbed, Rhythmi just nodded, very blatantly, and then realized the guy in front of her trying doesn’t know her name. “I’m Rhythmi.” She stuck her sole free hand out. “Pleased to meet you.”

Byron shook it and gestured behind him. “Suppose we should get going, then.”

“Hm.” She nodded to him and then looked down at her map. She made to hunch over, letting go of her suitcase handle to grasp at her bag straps, but Byron waved her off and did it himself, handing it to her as she straightened back up.

“That’s a pretty fancy one,” He noted. “Don’t think they make those much anymore. Is it-”

“League issued, yes.” Rhythmi frowned at this news, though. She’d make sure to take care of it.

#writing #tron #the reality of nightmares #pokemon ranger #soa #dppt

7 notes · View notes