Description: So... what draws you here to play this game? A question that a lost intergalactic traveler and the chosen of the planet, both of varying degrees of literacy, must answer before the final chapter can unfold... (THERE IS NO SEQUEL) (WINNER: Vanessa)
This is where space is slated to end. It may well be where it began. An endless, vast ocean of black. It was this way many years before. It will continue to be this way so many years later. We acknowledge it during a small portion of time of our existence... but yet, we know that our influence upon it is meager, indeed.
The years continue to pass by. Imaginations, in time, soon become limited by one's age. They are growing older yet, by the second. When the Earth itself has so many reasons to pry one's eyes away, the cosmos are gawked less. Grasped less. /Indluged/ less.
The end could be near. The creeping spectre of an end - if not death, itself. Against all sense, they continued to behold the cosmos. The flat, black plain, full of distant sparkling stars that seemed to arrange themselves into letters in hallucinations of messages.
Yet, so close to the end, what worth were the efforts before? What fruit would they have born from now? They cared not. Victory would have been ultimately meaningless to these stars, if not faded into mere clouded memory to only last the miniscule spans of their conscious existence.
What does it truly mean to traverse these cosmos - the cosmos that captured the minds of so many, wrought free from the limitations of their imaginations? To take a grasp at true freedom, to flippantly defy the very end they would now stand against in the inky black? Was it for honor? Was it for glory? What /construct/ could /justify/ their presence here?
One laid their stake bare to their fellow cosmonaut...
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::enters and looks around with super long kitana long flowing sylvar hare and trinchcota::
Was that their choice for embracing the infinite potential the eyes could only, in the end, hallucinate, as they stood motionless within the void of the truly infinite?
Remember that you are mortal. Remember that you must die. Is it not a truth that all must confront? A child's imagination is truly limitless, an infinite, unlimited expanse. But all too soon, the universe of possibility shrinks...and the fraternity of youth must give way to pragmatism and gloom.
Or, something like that? God, who writes this stuff, that's just ridiculous, is what that is, a downright stupid, ridiculous thing. Of course, there are those who know the value...of a powerful imagination.
It is the slowest thing in the entire universe - a bright yellow Vespa motorscooter. They measured it, once, though of course she didn't actually have her finger on the accelerator. Put. Put. Put. Infinity stretching in every direction. "Goddammit," she whines, flipping off the non-sky "I'm lost! HOW hard is it to navigate in the infinite darkness between galaxies? Jeeze, it can't be that tricky!"
Put put put put. Oh, hey. There's a dude over there. The pink-haired Wasp Woman produces an 18th-century spyglass from nowhere worth mentioning, squinting through it thoughtfully. "Ohhhhh man, and he's talking in AOL, too. Fulla juices!"
She hops up to stand on the seat of her Vespa, unlimbers the blue left-handed Rickenbacher base guitar across her back, and then with her other foot, guns the accelerator until the vespa shoots forward at about Mach 1.5. "BATTA BATTA BATTA SUHWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!" Haruko Haruhara laughs hysterically, and attempts to knock a complete stranger's head off for basically no reason whatsoever.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has started a fight here.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rust
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Rust with Dash Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Rust
The journey may not have any meaning. This could be the final secret the cosmonauts have to discover. But, the discovery would have to take a hiatus in but the most petty thing imaginable that so many humans - no, so many living creatures across great spans of unfathomable distance - indulge in to distract them from it. The desires. The wants. No matter how short term the benefit, or the meaning or lack thereof... there is always that one distraction, out here in the great cosmos.
The conflict. This was universal. Without the conflict, there would be no movement. There would be no change. There would be... nothing, to imagine, from the simple exchanging of fists to the sad, absolute truth of how far one could travel within their lifespan.
And yet, here towards the crossroads of the end, their journey continues.
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::gets hit:: ow u fool i sacrifice u!! ::choeks and stabs!!!:::
Their expression was concise. There could not be much to go on, other than the acknowledgement of a guitar swing to the head. What base level of communication between those who would venture against the inevitable end would allow them to interact as such? What allowed them to accept this one, true single truth that a random stranger with long, flowing silver hair and some giant sword would be verifiably hit by a blow that would echo through the heavens forevermore to those few who knew how to listen - where to listen - and when?
What... did either of them gain, in allowing this to happen? A shared vision among those who wished for more they could not accomplish themselves...? Were their visions, their ways, of what was going on among them in complete consensus for a purpose beyond galactic reason?
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Vanessa with Armed Combo.
- Power hit! -
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Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Rust
Truth, lies. Battle and peace. Meaning, at the crossroads. That's what it is all about, isn't it?
Wait, isn't this entirely the wrong script!?
Haruko clobbers a prettyboy in the face, and who cares about the meaning of the nothingness? The blank, infinite canvass of battle, written and rewritten, a thousand times in one second, one moment, one--
He hits her with a sword!! "HOLY COW" Haruko decrees, because it is a very large sword and it has very definitely struck her right in the noggin, causing her amazing helmet to crack open, allowing her somewhere-between-pink-and-orange hair to explode outward in an actually kind of not that bad mess. "Mannnn," Haruko says, from what may or may not be definable as the 'floor', insofar as things stop falling down at that point. Then she hops up, quick as you please, a mad grin creasing her face! "Hey, hey kid~" she chimes, traipsing in the anomalous axis of her chosen victim. "I'll let you sacrifice me all night l~~~ooooo~~~ng~~ if you just SIT STILL"
This last is, of course, accompanied by a truly wicked backhand guitar smacking.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Rust with Hook Punch.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Rust
Meaning, upon any road... the wrong script? It is entirely possible the references to other such journeys undertaken or stalled may be the only way at a most base level that those who would sit from the sidelines - or reminisce - could understand... assuming, of course, they chose to comprehend any bit of it beyond lengths of slanted lines of varying colors between red, yellow, and green. Those who would observe would prove fickle indeed, the only ones who could truly verify the evidence that any and all of this ever happened - and only if they cared to.
Did it make this exchange further meaningless, at the mercy of those who could verify history - by those who had the authority to determine the truest worths of any and all efforts, regardless of the rewards reaped by either party?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::is hit agen:: u insict defile teh anceints!! ::vaults of sword and kicks!!!::
But the two of them would verify that at least one of them lands a wicked backhand swing. It is what the arbitrary messages made clear to all say, it would appear. Is he out to suppress the undesirable parts of absolute arbitration in minimalism, when the colors the cosmos are painted between them so differ - even in mere shades of a light gray?
What truly motivates any one of them to continue this dance, if one is unreceptive? If one is falling behind in fortune? No. There must be a truly compelling reason, beyond every notion to disengage - no, to never even have the encounter.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Vanessa with Crashing Down.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Rust
What worth is there in anything, really? History won't be judged on the minutiae. Up and down, here and there - that tree or this rock, eternity in ten seconds.
Or, something like that?
/Haruko/ sure doesn't care, and she's taking notes so she can yell at Anno to take his damn meds again later, /let me tell you something/. Haurko is kicked in the face, though she canot actually tell if it was by a foot or a wall of vaguely nihilist rhetoric, and then she spins around, whipping her guitar around fingers like a gun. "Oi, oi!" she yells. "Kicking a lady in the face is mean, especially if you can't even spell it right!" Actually that was one of the few parts he did spell right. "SHUT UP!"
Haruko, deciding she's had quit enough of this malarkey, starts pulling the trigger on her guitar, which is of course, also a gun.
COMBATSYS: Rust Toughs Out Vanessa's Gaia Gear!
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Rust
In flagrant disregard of the minimal consequence or reward this encounter - this /meeting/ may have, the two persist. What is their true motivations, within this all? Is this the result of a completely arbitrary arrangement by powers beyond mortal understanding? If so... are they agreeing to follow their whims, at the expense of all else?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ur powers are week ::walks thru bullits:: i m teh chosen 1 ::GRINS::
There must be something to be gained. But what is that gain worth, out here? What is the motivation? This is what truly boggles all involved, and bears plenty of reiteration. What is it worth to walk through - to give no sale - to the hailstorm of bullets, to disregard the others' existence... but yet just enough, for their own gain? Is it an underlying desire that drew so many to the cosmos... leaving only these two this deep inside?
Something draws them all in. This cannot be denied. What drives those that drive further inside this grand, useless struggle that will ultimately affect absolutely nothing? Why this, instead of any other means to enjoy the short amount of time one exists...?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::tosses u over edje n impales:: hahahahahahahahaha!!!
And why... most importantly... in this form...?
COMBATSYS: Vanessa counters Crane Launch from Rust with Parrying Puncher EX.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rust
Motivations? What a silly thing to ask about. Who has a motivation, in this place? Context is a lie - produced, recorded, created whole cloth to suit whatever whim is most convenient. Moment to moment, frame to frame, nothing.
For the world is a mist of contextless assertion - one against the other, until neither remains. One will stand, but in the end, only because the other decided to sit. Bullets turn to irrelevance, because they always were irr--
"SHADDAP," Haruko Haruhara decrees to the narration, and then slams her guitar into her foe's neck and also probably the narrator with a full-bodied swing.
Ouch! What did I ever do?! I'm the narrator!
"You talk too much!" Haruko commands, planing the butt of her guitar against the ground and leaning on it. One hand comes up and she starts lazily twisting the pinky in her ear. "God, you'd think this were your graduate paper or something."
But I'm just getting to the good part! There's a point, just... just humor me, please?!
Haruko sniffs, disdainfully, then squints at her dirtied pinkie, wrinkling her nose. "Ehhhh, you intellectual types get on my nerves."
She flicks her fingers off into the nowhere. "Fine!" She says, swinging the guitar around to grip the pull-start motor in the back. "Get to it!"
Thank you. Now, where were we... ah, yes... ahem!
The fates disagreed. Though they chose to exist at a base level, they did not agree with the passage of events. One would insist they were stabbed. The other would insist they stopped it altogether with a timely counter. It required a silent, just arbitration.
...How much of this arbitration did they truly accept? Were they fighting against it to have the freedom to burn their candles as they would?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((no fare!! u moder u cant do that))
This acknowledgement may have been their undoing. Their wishes, in opposition, still were united in one very peculiar fashion... one very peculiar fashion indeed.
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((im teh strongest charictur))
What was the desire to simply 'be'? Neither of them could truly be what they were. The simplest deviations, the out-of-place existences. This entire scenario is many layers upon layers of complete impossibility. Is that the appeal... or is that their true opposition?
The right to simply 'be,' even when they aren't... is that the reason?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::glows red:: u have tryed my pashince u little girl ::chokeslam like in last nights restling show kicking u repetedly::
This was a familiar face... but it was not the face so popularly established. The differences were many, but yet, they persisted with this identity. What was the appeal in assuming this form, as opposed to so many others within their grasp - within a wide range of other stimuli to copy, to take, to /be/?
COMBATSYS: Vanessa counters Hammering from Rust with Puncher Vision.
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Rust
Haruko, satisfied that she has sufficiently chastened the divine will of the macrocosm, watches as she is offiically whined at. "Don't you know what this is, kid?" she jeers. "There's /always/ someone stronger..." Grin, grin, a razor-edged grin, as her gloved fingers wrap around the pull cord - and YANKS. Sparks fly in every direction, the engine buzzing to thunderous life in the infinite span of nothing and everything!
"And there's always someone cooler! Lookit you! Silver hair and a black trench coat, what fetish mag did you walk out of? And that /sword/? God, so last decade. I guess basically what I'm tellin' ya is--"
He swings in for a chokeslam and she arcs the guitar skyward with a fluid swing of her body, aiming for his chin.
"Get /over/ yourself!"
Their words may have carried a greater hidden weight that spoke strongly of either of them - the demand to 'get over yourself,' as it were. But what self were they eschewing, in order to take on this form? Was it something truly worth looking away from, for the sake of indulgence...?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((OMG CHEAP))
But who was witnessing this all? Would those who be witnessing this praise these new identities over the ones discarded, the ones they would have typically assumed in day to day matters? In which case... would the praises and curses of all that followed be misplaced, shiny display of sparks as a crushing blow to the chin so solid, so accepted - the makings of a shared story - whether by will or by an outside force - that even they accepted, in their own way.
They rebelled, and kept the mask.
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: its usless... i summin meateor... ::summons meteor!!::
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((AFK dinner))
Time was running short for both of them, but... who would have had the final say? No matter the consensus, one opinion must have been dominant. This was the seeming law of the universe.
Was this what really drew them all, beyond any other logical pretense? Through the masks and stories, could it be truly said that the one ultimate desire, the desire to /be/ within these cosmos...
Is uncompromising, undebatable, absolute victory?
COMBATSYS: Rust gains composure.
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Rust
"I /totally/ am~" Haruko cheers in response to what is clearly an OOC comment. OIC? THIS IS GETTING UNCOMFORTABLY META.
Either way, really. That guy's still going on. Haruko launches him and then leans on her guitar again, laaaazily staring off into space. Does it matter? of course not. Nothing's ever mattered, for something like this. Pulled away, to another place - the original place. Is it better? Or...
Haruko squints up at nothing, as a big, ominous nothing nothings overhead.
"God I hate the metatext guys," she growls, and stalks forward toward the insensate body of her foe, swings the weapon high--!
In another place, explanations would be made. Here, only the facts: It falls once. It /hits/ fifteen.
COMBATSYS: Rust Toughs Out Vanessa's Machine Gun Puncher!
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Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Rust
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((back))
It is as she says. This is the reason that drives them out to the cosmos. To win. To eschew everything in between - to drive only what is necessary to accomplish this.
This is the true reason of the journey!! There is no other true joy in the cosmos other than to win by any means available, by any means justifiable, by any means not immediately disallowed by the arbitration in place! This is not only the way of the cosmos... this is its destiny. It is, in passing, the only thing that would ever be truly recognized: who won.
Is this why the literacy gap is bridged, acknowledged only in hushed whispers behind others' backs? Those who stumble upon this truth may look aghast. Perhaps this is what drives their journeys elsewhere, under masks anew, to new arbitrations... new imaginations...
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: LOL
But if victory is the truest, purest motivation for any of this... could any of them triumph over this notion, if it was their desire? Or are they forever locked to this commandment of the very existence of this universe, the universe they explore under people not themselves...?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: u cant stop it... ::meteor wates overhed::
They are the closest to the center of the universe. They could hold the key. But, did they drop it along the way? None can be too sure.
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::shoryuken w/sord!!!::
Victory was at hand for one of them. But, what would it change? Would it all be as none of it ever truly existed, when all is said and done - even if it happened, after hours upon countless hours for mere fragments of legible text?
COMBATSYS: Vanessa just-defends Rust's Cement Upper!
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Vanessa 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rust
Victory and defeat - isn't that also a little pointless, though? When you get down to it...
Did you lose, just by trying?
Haruko blinks, a little dumbly, because that should have made him explode all over everything, but no, he's...right there. "Huh," she says. "I guess you're not /completely/ new at this, eh?" she laughs, and swings fingers up easily, hooking the middle under the nose of her goggles. "Goo~oood~. I /hate/ it when you kids pass out before I'm /done/!"
She snaps the guitar up high at the same time THAT MAN approaches with a sword, and swats the blade aside with a single, swift, easy smack. "Weak!" she laughs. "Now you've got me all FIRED UP!"
She follows through the motion - spinning on heels, snapping another gloved hand back to the neck, and swinging it up ---
And down. Will he ever find the bottom?
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Rust with Forbidden Eagle.
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Vanessa 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Rust
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((wait what doe it meen when u hook under teh nose, does she hav peercngs))
For a victory not yet won, there is an air of confusion as much as there is elation. Is this a contradiction of the universe? A weakening of the will? For it was established the only meaning at all to be had in this was victory... was it not? What joy is there in prolonging the attaining of this victory if it is one's final, ultimate desire? The ultimate desire of all of this universe... of which these two represent those who traversed the furthest inside? This makes no sense!
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((nvm i get it))
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::gets hit and bleeds but doesnt die becuz hes teh chosn 1:: now i kill u!!
There is a flagrant misunderstanding in play as to the intent of one against the intent of another - for clearly this clashing desire fuels such strangeness, not falling into the vastness of the ether but falling upwards. Is this the end of expectations? The concept of all expectations, of all reason, against the one shining absolute truth of this universe?
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ::dives down n impales her thru liek Aeris::
A dark chapter turns...
COMBATSYS: Vanessa counters Deep Strike from Rust with Parrying Puncher.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Rust
No sense at all!!
But that is the realm in which Haruko lives. That is what is - the truth and the path is that there is no truth and no path.
So live it the hell up.
He comes again, with all of his ignorance and blind intent, and Haruko sighs, sticking a glove up her nose and twisting vigorously. "Y'ain't killin' anyone, sparkles," she says, pulling the leather free and inspecting her mining efforts with some care. Lips curl. Eh. "You're kinda boring me, really. Is this the best you can do, even? Jeeze." Diving downward from a standing start. Well, that's the way of it.
She swings the guitar upward. He comes down. She catches his gut and swings him toward the nothing that may be ground with all force.
"You got me outta the closet for /this/?"
vXIsEpHiRoThIXv: ((wtf no!!)) He cries, as he is caught in the end by the guitar. This sheer level of acknowledgement... no, integration! The wavelengths merge. An acceptance of where victory truly lies.
::reality blurs indents parigraphz about notheeng::
?!?!?!?!
The void, once devoid of detail, swirls to light as the basest desires and the abstract thoughts coalesce - if maybe only briefly - as a body clad in black with long, flowing white hair comes to a bone-shattering stop against what may have been accepted as the ground. Maybe one or both of them came to the full belief that this is, indeed, where they would stop.
The man clad in black with the long flowing white hair disappears. In its place is a large-framed man dressed like some sort of telephone pole worker, a long rusted length of pipe through a toolbelt pocket, and... a bad combover. No. A horrible combover. No! An abysmal combover.
The worst of the entire universe.
Struggling from the undefined mass of space that currently constitutes 'ground,' the echoes of crackling joints carry through deep space to, perhaps, one day be misconstrued as alien contact.
"Uhh... hey." He looks up. "Looks like I, uh... I lost here. Did I get that right?" He squints some. "'n that's your real face?"
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust can no longer fight.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|
Nothing makes sense. Defeat! Haruko swings the guitar down and lands her full weight on it, proudly leaning there with her helbow on the neck, humming lazily. "Well, I guess that was kinda fun," she says, then hefts it upright, landing on her shoulder and wandering off toward her ride into destiny, except the man in black and silver is gone, gone, was he ever truly there?
"Godddduhhh, now they've got me doing it," Haruko grumps, squatting down on the seat. "Eh?" She flicks a wrist, lazily. "Well, calling it 'here' is kind of silly, but you got the losin' right. Eh? My real...?"
Snort. She crosses her legs. "You got a lotta silly questions, fella."
The strange balding man grunts in acknowledgement of the whole 'losing' thing. Well, he did lose after all, this far in. All this way to the very end of the cosmos... and what was it that he was? It meant something, but what?
"Reason I say it," the balding man says, "you've seen the world. It's gotten... kinda slow. The world's boredom's gotten all outta whack." So he claims with a straight face, getting to his feet but not approaching the victorious woman. Distance matters not, but somehow, sound carries through the void just fine.
"Been a whole lotta years... thought maybe I'd see for myself, what happened when you... you let it take you." The man rolls his left shoulder. "Guess this is as far as I go seein' it."
He looks back towards the way Earth lies, distant as it is. It's a tiny, tiny, tiny little speck now. "Hell, to think that was something like, uh... like a part of me, even after what Keith and Cody did. That... that really... strong desire. Y'know what I'm talkin' about?"
Haruko hummmmms, leaning against her guitar while also sitting on her Vespa's seat, tossing Rust an impatient look. "Gettin' introspective in your old age? Heh, you people are all the same."
Siiiigh. "It's not just letting go, y'know?" she prompts, tipping a fine eyebrow upward. "You're thinkin' about it all backwards, old man. The whole point is letting go." She leans back, elbows resting against her handlebars. "Putting on a different hat with different rules for a different place. That's all it is. Thinkin' about it your way, you make it sound like work."
While the explanation goes on, an old lozenge full of crud accumulated from its time on a dirty classroom floor drifts by in the breeze. The camera wants to make everyone involved know that it is colored yellow, a very crusty yellow. It passes before a star, giving it the appearance of the sun.
"That so, huh." The man with the bad combover grunts. The backdrop hasn't changed any beyond this bizarre camera fixation on the lozenge-sun. "Either way... looks like this is where I'm, I'm getting off." Two meteors pass by overhead, vaguely in the direction of Earth. It's kind of hard to calculate from this far away as to whether or not where they're going would, in fact, actually be Earth.
He observes his right hand, trying to clench and unclench it. "Well, whoever you are. It's just up ahead, whatever it is." With a shrug, he looks back over his shoulder.
"Hell, maybe the ones that don't even exist."
"Looks like!" Haruko chirps, wiggling her fingers. "Your ride's here, old guy." She hums, watching as the meteors pass by in what is now outer space, toward the distant, glimmering orb. "Hehhh," she sighs, scooting up onto her seat. "First start to the right, and straight on 'til morning, and watch out for the re-entry because seriously? Total bitch."
Haruko stretches out the tight leather weararound gloves against her skin. "I guess my ride ain't ended yet. You best get a move on. And...you know, have fun with it?"
"Huh... y-yeah, aw shit." The man says as he draws the rusted length of pipe... well, one wouldn't say expertly, but four tugs later he's off his little space platform of nothingness back into actual floaty nothingness space, rearing back his arm. There really /is/ no looking forward if he wants to get back home already.
"Have fun, eh... if I'm not, ah, atomized by how fast they're going," as if that doesn't sound fun itself!! This is the last chance to say anything before the grand finale reveals itself. What's he to do? Ask to stop by once all's said and done for a rematch free of the throes of boredom against the weakened senses of self...?
A nebula in the distance flexes at the two of them. Its gasses are manly. Majestic. Capable of throwing crime bosses out of fifty AUs tall multiverse scrapers. It sticks meteors in trash cans in between beating the shit out of palette swaps of Pluto.
There is no more time left, for now they are being flexed at by the truest birth of the Haggar Nebula.
With one powerful thrust of an arm, the old rusted pipe leaves behind a trail of heat shimmering around him until his entire right arm is buried deep into the fifth meteor that passes by. Two more follow soon after.
The sun-lozenge drifts forward towards the true final destination.
There is never a sequel to explain why.
"Oh, looks like the old mayor's gettin' grumpy," Haruko says, running slender fingers through bright red hair. "Be careful! That guy'll mess you right the hell up, no mistakin'." She grins, and it's a fairly friendly look, tipping her head. "Stop by, sometime. We'll have a drink and get thrown outta some bars." She barks a laugh, leaning over to check the driver-side mirror on her space Corvette.
A mighty, sigh, as she pulls her fingers up and straightens the bright red tie over her button-up halter top, and Vanesas settles back in the seat, and says, "One more stop to make," as she steps on the gas, and peels out - toward forever.
Log created on 00:19:09 05/26/2010 by Rust, and last modified on 14:43:07 05/28/2010.