Description: *Season Three, Episode Seven* This week on "La Zen Ula Ran" a printer is broken in IT and sucking employees in and turning them into cybernetic android automaton monsters bent on killing the entire human race, but our heros are off on the Planet Ming during the festival of the moon, who will save Earth?! Find out next week on "La Zen Ula Ran"!
Naerose. Witch? Daughter of a Witch? Or total crack pot. Today we dive into this area of great mystery which scientists have been debating for decades and will likely be debating for decades to come. Let us start with the mystery of her origin, a topic which lacks any concrete evidence to point as to how such a enigma came to be.
Apparently someone was filming a documentary. The person was a woman in red with a witches hat, shades and a broom. The documentary, which was written on a cardboard box, which also said, 'filming' was called. 'Naerose, the great mystery'. The director, cast, crew, and entire development team? Naerose.
Nassir. Heartless Killer, or Unrelenting Revolutionary? Sociopathic Loon, or Harsh Moral Compass? With each passing day, more and more people came into contact with the Shank Squad soldier...and with each passing day, more and more people knew enough to form their own opinions on the youth. It worked against his role as an silent killer, but in the same breath it worked towards gaining exposure for Rolento's Grand Vision.
Now, the only think Nassir had to worry about was putting a more positive spin on it. No matter what his mindset truly was, Nassir was canny enough to realize that an invading force--no matter how benevolent--would be viewed as a hostile entity, to be reviled. How many would-be revolutionaries did Rolento lose daily to their acts? How could they spin things so that their PR perspective would improve without compromising mission objectives?
Heavy thoughts for the soldier-boy, currently dressed in civilian clothes: Simple white shirt, pants, and jacket, with matching shoes. A duffle bag was slung over one shoulder, completely the ensemble. Lost in his own thoughts, the soldier seemed uncharacteristically aimless, simply meandering through the streets of the city as his thoughts carried him wherever they may.
An empty trashcan not far from Naerose suddenly springs to life, as its lid is slightly lifted. The lens of Ran's camera glints briefly in the sun, as Nassir's figure is centered in the viewport. A click, and the picture goes completely black for a moment. Nassir's image reappears again, and after some more centering (slightly zoomed), there's another click, and another moment of darkness.
Cut to the trashcan again. "Excellent! A complete dossier of Nassir Mahomet! Let's see OTHER schools beat this! I mean, what's the best they could come up with?" She turns sideways, and the image zooms out to reveal Naerose standing not far from there. Ran stares at her in silence for a moment, then adds, "...exactly my point!"
Impossible! Naerose's Ran sense tingles, except she doesn't have a Ran sense, but that trashcan is totally moving.
"Hey Food!" she cries, certain that this is a jackpot of something in said trashcan, after all, it's moving, now she didn't remember sesame street that well, but she is pretty sure there was a monster that had cookies and something to do with a trash can and that maybe if the trash can was moving it was because it was full of a cookie monster? She leaves her own camera on, centered and unfortunately for Nassir, it too will likely be catching him as she rushes to try and shake some cookies free. Thus giving a picture of what would be Nassir in normal clothes, with the cardboard box in the shot (though closer to the camera) stating that he is in fact, 'Filming, Naerose the great mystery.'
Nassir's head tilts upwards, eyes lingering over the filmmaking equipment someone had laid out. It's enough of an oddity to slow Nassir's progression along the sidewalk to a near halt, his curiousity engaged. It doesn't take much longer for his attention to shift towards the one-woman crew...and her singularly identifying choice in wardrobe. Even for Japan, getting dressed up like a witch everyday is a line that few cross.
"I remember you," come the faint words, barely crossing the distance between the two of them before dying out to the ambient sounds of the city. Clearing his throat, the followup is a bit easier to make out, strengthened with deliberate effort. "Charity shoe woman."
And then the garbage can moves.
As lackluster as Nassir's behavior seemed, all manner of instinct springs to life with the telltale click of a shutter. Was he being covertly surveilled? By who?
"What is going on here?"
The characteristic sound of a Ran rapidly impacting against the inner walls of an empty trashcan while being shaken by a Naerose can be heard emerging from the receptacle of junk. Along with complaints and less than flattering appreciations towards the shaker. "Stop that, you incompetent amateur! Don't you have anything better to do than disrupting the work of a professional?! Go back and play dress-up with your voodoo dolls, or whatever it is that you young witch wannabes do!", she yells while popping out of the trashcan, leaning towards Naerose and pointing an accusing finger at her, so close to almost touch her nose with it. Nassir might recognise the kind of yelling as being the closest a civilian can get to a drill sergeant.
Well, at least a part of Nassir's question seems to have been addressed: the red band around Arm's bad clearly states she's from the press. Taiyo High's school newspaper, to be exact.
"Wait what?" Comes the first reply from Naerose who is still expecting that somehow she is shaking a cookie jar. But alas, few things in life are free, especially tasty cookies. She should of known by the time that Ran jumps out that this would happen. Worse yet this is well, exactly what she could of expected. Still, she's no amateur! Nor a shoe lady, what the.
Then there is Nassir, oooo riiight, Naerose remembers selling off her shoes from the Fish Monster as a charity event for a hospital. Quick! Think fast.
She tries to place both arms on Ran's shoulders and beams a bright smile,
"Ho ho ho, silly girl, this is one of our mental patients from the hospital!" Naerose says to Nassir and then in a must quieter voice whispers to Ran, "Is.. ixnay? Icksnay? on the horhay? Er.. I never was good at Pig Latin, but this guy is totally out of his mind! One time he blew someone up for taking his hat, no joke!"
It doesn't take much longer for Nassir to fully 'awaken', his inner monologue suppressed in favor of quick (if overly hasty) action. Pulling the zipper low on his duffle bag, one of his hands disappears into the hidden depths, fingers wrapping around something inside. The *clink* of metal on metal can be heard, at least in theory. In practice, the stream of yelled insults might cover the noise.
"Give me the camera."
In all reality, Nassir couldn't be sure if he'd been photographed, or why, but the Shank Soldier knew better than to leave that to chance. Advancing on the student pressmember, Nassir held his free and visible hand out, palm up, waiting for Ran to comply with the order...
...and in case it was missed, let it be made clear: Nassir's stern tone doesn't have a hint of 'gentle suggestion' to it.
"Mercy be taken on the mentally infirm."
Ran goes so wide-eyed it must hurt, and pulls back, her teeth showing as her face tenses. She turns to Naerose and groans, "Look what you've done, now! You've angered the trigger-happy military! Are you happy, now? Are you HAPPY?! Be glad Sylvester is nowhere in sight, or I'd have already wacked you on the head with it! Multiple times!"
Ran leaps out of the trashcan, and lands not far from it, but still slightly farther away from Nassir, the lid still managing to balance precariously on her head. "NO WAY! This thing is expensive! Do you have any idea how long it would take for me to buy a new one, considering I live on allowances?", she exclaims, while clutching her reflex protectively and pulling it away from the direction where Nassir is. "Plus, if I was intimidated by any clearly irated, heavily-trained and heavily-armed military expert pointing a weapon at me at close range, I'd never win a Pulitzer!" Oh, yeah. Those who know Ran also know she's willing to risk her life for a scoop. And those who don't, can just read her +finger.
Wow. Just wow, Where to even begin. Naerose's eyes in turn look wide and a lot like a pair of shades. That's because she's wearing a pair of shades and you can't see her eyes. It never occurred to her of course that she just pissed off some militant fella but all she can say is... Well, look here see?
"Mental patient, told you so," Naerose says and sort of makes a 'eh heh' sound and backs away slowly,
"She ahh, thinks she is a reporter and it's a fake camera, see.. no film.. it's umm you know a toy."
Then aside to Ran she whispers, "Actually I keep him in my hat, but listen, if I can't outrun him, I just hope I can outrun you." She reaches down to tie her boots, realizes they don't have any laces and inwardly wishes she had on a pair of running shoes.
"There will be no pull-it-ser."
Nassir struggles with the last word, an award he wasn't really familiar with. That would require him to be familiar with the American system of media, which is generally something he avoided.
"Your costs are irrelevent. You will keep your camera, but I will insure there is no film." Taking in a deep breath, Nassir's attention briefly shifts to Naerose. "Are you her caretaker, then? You would do well to keep her in a safer habitat. Mercy on the mentally infirm is a trait well held, which speaks well on you."
Back to Ran, then, waiting impatiently, hand still held out. If Ran was really willing to risk her life for a spool of film, well...
...hey, see Nassir's +finger.
Ran protests, "I am not mentally infirm, thank you very much! If someone is in need of rofessional medical assistance due to mental issues, it's HER!", she says, pointing at the witch in shades. A pause. "Hey, wait a minute... you're a military guy, right? You're also pretty young, which means you must be familiar with the way wars are fought, nowadays. How media exposure wins more battles than infantry troops, how military actions are decided based on their impact on information channels, how one must sway the public opinion of the enemy country!" She even has the courage to walk closer to Nassir. "Why don't you seize this opportunity, instead, and give me an exclusive interview? Think about it. Your point of view will be published on a newspaper respected for its coverage of fighting events, probalby an audience you'd like to reach. A bullhorn for your words. A strategic position you could conquer!"
And another exclusive scoop for Ran.
Well Naerose tried, she really did , but come to think about it, why did she try? Ran was her rival in news, her rival in insanity. And if you think Naerose was going to let herself be outinsaned at this timme, then there was one thing, er another thing coming to you. She wasn't . She was going to do something about it. The art of confusion and hilarity, the trick was just to try and make some sort of angle here which was not previously considered, of course ! Dig her hole deeper,
"Yeah see, Ran here is a savant, you know one of the people with severe mental conditions who are good at one thing and one thing only? She's ahh, really good at .. math or something, anyway, if you take her camera though, her little fragile brain will explain, no kidding, I did it once by accident and she was in intensive care for a week!"
And if you think Naerose actually thinks anyone buys this, or that she isn't actually loony enough to continue such a poorly constructed lie well, check HER +finger.
"..."
Well, Nassir hadn't expected /that/. Normally the young soldier was at home in situations where he had to say as little as possible. Most of the time, he was by himself, running surveillance or espionage for Rolento's lessers...or off sniping the heads of mildly important individuals when the urge hit him. Crazy or not, Ran talked a surprisingly good game, and it was enough to put him off of his own game.
That didn't change the fact that Nassir's hand was still out, waiting for the film. Naerose's words are heard, most likely, and filtered out for useful nuggets...to which he unfortunately found none.
"...I know how your press can subvert, yes. I am familiar. This battle is..." Nassir trailed off, his lips pressed together into a frown. "...I say too much. Your press only knows how to twist and deceive. A fresh, untainted hand is what we need, who can write purely."
Nassir spared another glance towards Naerose, then, before finalizing a decision. "I still need to inspect your camera. Maybe afterwards, though. Maybe."
Ran hesitates for a few seconds. Well, she /is/ ready to risk her life for the scoop. But not for protecting a particular photo. It's a calculated risk worth taking. "So, here's the proposal, then: an exclusive interview. Which will be published in its integral, unmodified form. And followed by four pages of comments which, as things go, will invariably end up causing more confusion than clarity. And, as controversies go, they will keep the public aware of your presence. You know how things go: it's not important whether they say good or bad things, whether they talk about you.", she turns her camera so that the back is facing up, as if she was going to open it, but she doesn't quite do it, yet. Is that a hint that she's negotiating? "And in exchange for an equally exclusive photo shoot in a place and time of your choice, I'm going to hand over this particular one. So, what do you say?" She turns sideways at Naerose, and then back to Nassir. "If you punch her, I'll toss in a free subscription to the Taiyo High Newspaper."
"See you later suckers!" Cries Naerose who at this time decides she's done enough and gets on her broom, which hovers for a moment before shooting off. It's like Sebastian's happy flight. Of course I am talking about the never ending story. You know that eighties song right? The one they played while the dork kid was on the white dog looking dragon's back? Come on everyone remembers that movie, and that song. Anyway, so the song plays (from a tape recorder Naerose has) yes, it really plays. The wind through her hat, she scoops up her camera on her way by and then promptly crashes into the trashcan Ran had been previously hiding in. Somehow.. there is a @@ look over her shades. Don't ask me how.
"Are you attempting to barter with me?"
A rhetorical question, obviously, one reinforced by Nassir's frown until he puts the effort into allowing his face to smooth out, become something a bit more neutral. The hand is still outstretched, waiting for the camera...and despite his careful countenance, it's fairly obvious that he's getting more and more impatient with this.
"You will give me your contact information. When a decision is made, you will be contacted with terms of agreement. Prior to this, you will supply us with samples of your writings. There will be no chance for negotiation whatsoever if this film is not handed over /now/."
And then, Naerose crashlands. The distraction is momentary on his end, surprising but otherwise not really heeded. It was probably best for Nassir, who found himself becoming increasingly uncomfortable around the pair: Madness, it seemed, was spreading, and Nassir couldn't really afford to be insane.
<Maybe it is the call of the moon,> Nassir mused, briefly swapping to a tongue that was a bit more comfortable for him. <Which drives women to hysteria.>
Ran grins. "Deal. I'm so confident you won't regret this, I'm handing over the film right now...", she says, and after fiddling with her camera so quickly it's hard to follow, the back lid pops open, ejecting the film. She grabs it and tosses it at Nassir. "Catch here. Send your contact agent over to Taiyo High, and ask for the High School Journalism Club. I suggest you develop this one, and see the quality of the photos yourself. Also, if you would hand 'em for publication, it would be a good idea. I'm sure you came out pretty well in them." Then she starts to run in the opposite direction. "I'm sorry, but I really have to go, now. Lots of very important journalism-related issues require my attention!(*)"
As she passes by, she 'accidentally' bumps into Naerose unconscious form, trying to 'discreetly' snatch her video camera as she does so. Well, the photos she'll be able to take from that video won't be much different from the ones she'd have gotten from her camera. Only lower quality. Also, it's Naerose's fault if Ran's photos are lost. So, it's fair to do so. Provided she finds a way to mail the camera back to Naerose. Which she will try to.
(*) That's jargon for 'I have to proofread the scribbles of newbie reporters, then mercilessly can them while yelling in their face about how incompetent they are.
"Good."
The filmroll is practically snatched out of the air, Nassir's hand motion similar to a striking serpent...at least insofar as odd comparisons go. The film is pocketed, and another second or so goes by before Nassir begins to walk anew.
"Taiyo High Journalism Club. Expect a delivery, then."
Barring some kind of bizarre misadventure, that would basically be that. The Shank Soldier heads off in another direction, leaving Ran to do whatever it is that she will.
Log created on 07:40:21 04/29/2007 by Naerose, and last modified on 09:56:38 08/19/2007.