Farah - Thank You For Being a Friend

Description: This just goes to show, no matter how bad things get, the best remedy for any sort of massive personal crisis is to have a public group meltdown in the middle of a large city.



How long ago was the YFCC-sponsored tournament, here in Sunshine City? Perhaps a week, perhaps longer. Most of the excitement has died down, and for the most part the prime movers of that circus have moved on. But lingering questions remain, here and there, about many of the events that transpired there. One of those lingering 'questions' is, in fact, a lingering 'person' in the form of a particular Egyptian who, thanks to a little tampering in her match, had a... profoundly disturbing experience. Slowly, surely, something has been eroding her morality, her self-confidence, and her will. What space she had so long sought to keep filled with the light of hope, now swirls with the darkness of doubt. Unfortunately, Eclipse's suggestion that she kill Alma Towazu set off a chain of memories that left her like, well...

...this.

It's not clear if she's been back to Southtown since, or if she is staying in a hotel in Sunshine, or if she's just been walking the streets the entire time. The relatively tall Egyptian's ribbon is tied around her hand, as it usually is when she is heading to battle, drifting behind her as Farah takes languid steps along the sidewalks of Sunshine City. Her expression is one of someone in a daze, her movements having the sluggish langour of an individual acting without purpose or intention, merely drifting from stimulus to stimulus on autonomous reactions alone. Basically, a zombie.

It doesn't help, though, that Vega's long-range interference has reached its peak, but her lack of emotional control means that her grip on her psychic powers is now not exactly stable. Instead, it flares unevenly as she wanders the city, grounding itself in the minds of others like stray lightning in a particularly nasty storm. It's not as if she can control minds, or read thoughts, but the nature of Soul Power is to connect people through their feelings, their souls and passions. Thus it is that a couple walking past her suddenly become... a little too friendly for the street, finding themselves staring at each other in embarassment when the momentary impulse passes. An argument that could have been resolved with a simple apology flares into a shouting match that leaves both people confused once Farah is out of eyeshot.

It's... kind of a mess.

It'd be *awful* if she ran into someone she knew.

SOME TIME AGO

Sakura Kasugano is training with her new teammates. 'Training' has mostly consisted of fighting one another while she shouts a lot of confusing, at times helpful orders about what they're doing wrong. There are also a lot of stories about Ken and Ryu.

"Okay!" Sakura says. "Now, we're going to work on dodging! I used to practice this on my way to school -- you run out into the road while the lights are green to cross it, and then don't get hit by a car. Eventually, you'll develop your timing! And then you'll know how to dodge!"

SOME TIME AFTER THAT

Sakura's shirt is torn and knees are scraped and she might have a concussion, to say nothing of the damage done to Shoma's car, which is why she's got a lot of baseball-bat-shaped bruises to boot. "Okay, I'm a little out of practice on the car thing. Maybe we should start with some pushups!"

"Are you sure you should be doing pushups right now?" Wang asks.

"Listen, I can do /tons/ of pushups, like, probably way more than you, /even though I was just hit by a car/." Sakura snorts dismissively, and slowly, she and Wang make eye contact. Then, in unison, they throw themselves to the ground and begin counting off.

NOW

"--and if you ever disqualify me for a bullcrap reason like that I'll hammer you again," Sakura says, all riled up, while Wang nurses his black eye. The team is now walking down the road, around the corner from Farah, on the same block.

No wonder Sakura is so crabby!

One might say it would be... /a disaster/.

Since in Wang's case this is pretty much par for the course, and also he has basically zero clue what is wrong with the object of his irrational affection, /of course/ he's here too.

Also, in truth, he got kind of distracted. The young nerdling's not even here in Sunshine City for Farah, which is made painfully obvious by the huge bag of video games and DVDs, each adorned by some manner of girly heroine. Seriously it is as big as his torso and filled to the brim. A cover with a disgustingly cute face, winking a pink little heart, pokes up out of it. He needs this. He /needs it/ because it is his MEDICINE. Plus, what else is he going to spend money on? Banks are for /fools/.

He needs medicine because he has a black eye because SOMEBODY doesn't understand that pushups have /rules/.

"Look, I keep telling you!" Shuffling along with his precious cargo behind Sakura, Wang continues to press his...unique viewpoint. "They're called girl pushups, so girls /have/ to do them. Look it up!"

Dual-wielding hot dogs, Denji Akiyama, apprentice chi sage and redoubtable team mascot, valorously attempts to weight on this passionate conversation, despite his mouth being full half of the time. Having failed in his efforts to persuade his fellows to create a Team Somebody Feed Denji fund, he has been aggressively 'training' at various trivia nights around the city, thereby supporting himself, and occasionally returning to their warehouse, where he sleeps and tries to pretend like he's not avoiding Sakura, because what seemed like a good idea at the time has now devolved into an utter nightmare. But, like a small dog, Denji is fundamentally loyal for all his skittishness.
"I still think," he manages while only one hot dog is in his mouth, "that standing on the sidewalk /technically/ counts as dodging the car."
He had come upon them in the midst of yet another Shoma-related debacle, and done just that, whereupon he provided a helpful service by loudly counting out their push-ups. It's sort of like a work-out, if you shout loudly enough, and disturb enough neighbors.
Right now he's spending most his time peeering into Wang's bags, trying to figure out what's inside. Whatever it is, it must be precious to Wang, which makes it inherently interesting. It's not like Denji wants to steal it or anything. He just wants to borrow it. Indefinitely.
Catching a glimpse of one of the titles, he instinctively begins to read it aloud. "'My Cousin is a Secret Tsundere'? Hey, Wang-chan, what is this stuff, anyway?"

Fate is weird. Take this street, for example. Consider that the bizarre effect Farah is having on people is largely mitigated by the ephemerality of her presence. In layman's terms, she's moving out of the way quickly because she's walking and so whatever happens is brief and fleeting and confusing. However, there is the MINOR PROBLEM that occasionally she will decide for whatever reason to stay in one place and suddenly the effect is both localized, ongoing, and concentrated. That is when things stop getting momentarily confusing and progress swiftly to outright problematic in a matter of seconds.

SOME TIME AGO

Roy Bromwell enters his well-appointed bedroom wearing only an apron. In his hands is a breakfast-in-bed tray complete with rose laid across it, and a platter of what appears to be waffles covered in crushed Oreo cookies and raspberry jam. Said platter is held precariously over his hips so that reaching for the waffles may include, in an oblique way, grabbing a hold of hot summer sausage by mistake. The American grins. "I made your favorites."

A faintly glowing Farah is JUST visible walking away outside as Batsu Ichimonji's screaming starts.

NOW

Something causes the Egyptian to stop just outside a local bistro with a pleasant stained-glass front window. The area gets surprisingly quiet for a moment as whatever thoughts are driving her movement bring her to a halt. This lasts approximately four minutes until a human body goes through the front window at high speed into the street, sending a rickshaw-driving bike cabbie to swerve into a fire hydrant, which cracks in half.

Through a haze of water droplets and falling bits of shattered glass, Farah's violet eyes train on the approaching trio, and she says, in a dreadfully atonal voice with extra reverb: "...you."

Sakura lets out a discontented sigh as the conversation once again shifts to what's in Wang's sack, and she folds her arms even though it really hurts when she does that. Ryu and Ken didn't buy creepy manga or eat two hot dogs at once. What the hell is wrong with these guys? And why are they so /annoying/ right now? They seemed fine this morning when she woke them up by blasting air horns in their faces.

SOME TIME AGO

"How did you even get in here?!" Denji shouts.

NOW

Then: Farah.

Sakura stops, looking the Egyptian fighter up and down. "What, you want a fight or something?" she snaps, before really processing what she's saying. "God! I am getting /so sick/ of these no-names constantly trying to -- hggh! Fine! Show me what you got!"

It's time for some of that trivia which Denji loves so very very much. Who, in the immediate vicinity, has the /exact/ same depth of willpower and mental resilience as a sad duckling? If your answer is Wang, then congratulations! You probably cheated. Zero points and you will never know love of happiness.

"/You/," Wang begins, echoing Farah even though he's not even looking at her. "You are a /heathen/, and even if I were to explain IN DEPTH the subtle beauty and majesty of MCST, you are too /unrefined and tasteless/ to understand! Oh, hello, darling." His head swivels to Farah as he finally notices her.

Next question: if Wang is, indeed, under the effects of Farah's aura of insanity...

How would you tell?

A human body crashes through the bistro's front window.
This body is Denji's.
For you see, as Wang began to lecture him on the merits of MCST, the hottest new eroge to hit the streets (or their queens), Denji begins to unintentionally and promptly ignore him, reconsidering Sakura-chan-sensei's words of profound wisdom. Did he not face that terrifying dolphin-riding man fearlessly, knowing he had to prove himself for Farah's sake, to show his discipline and devotion? Did he note face down Makari and Wang with great and unprecedented enthuasism, daring thoughtlessly to push himself to his limits and achieving a brief kind of pseudo-courage in the understanding that something important -- something new and special -- was at stake in his relationships with these people? He has to take risks. Real riskes. Unreflectively, he knows this, feels this in his bones. He swallows his hot dogs.
And, brow furrowing, as his erstwhile allies continue to chatter away, Denji Akiyama steps into the street, preparing to test his dodging skills.
Alas, Denji will not be able to be there for Farah, not this time, as he sails into the window in the background with the sound of shattering glass. Eventually, he will rise, and perhaps then he will have his chance. For now, he is only able to be present in spirit.
Actually, you can kind of see his spirit, hovering by the hydrant.
...Is he dead?

It's not entirely clear what Vega did to Farah. She doesn't even know her mysterious benefactor's name at this point, and if she did she's maybe know not to take his van candy, psychic or otherwise. It is of note that, at close range, every now and then some spark of Farah's cobalt-blue, starry night sky-colored Soul Power will ground itself in a nearby object, harmlessly. It's clear that something is Very Wrong here in a way that anybody with half a mind to look could notice. Whether or not this occurs to Sakura or Wang is up for debate. And whatever it is she's subconsciously doing might be affecting them, because it certainly seems to have turned Sakura belligerent and Wang...

SOME TIME AGO

Farah climbs off a DDR pad and looks to her opponent. "That was exciting. My name is Farah; what's yours?"

Wang says, mouth movements out of sync with his dialogue, "Please to be nestling my face in your cleavage."

Farah smiles. "Nice to meet you!"

NOW

...alright, it hasn't affected Wang.

But she notices things, the Egyptian does, including Denji sailing out the bar room window in a hail of stained glass and Guiness-branded drink coasters. What she really focuses on, though, is Wang in front of her, and Sakura next to him, and rather than fire lasers out of her mouth like some sort of psychic Gamorah, she instead says, in a quiet tone, "Out with a friend, I see? Replaced me already?"

The fighting slowly dies down. However, it may have been preferrable to what might be on the horizon.

Some of Farah's soul power floats toward Sakura. Sakura angrily slaps it away. "HEY! Keep your weird blue crap to yours--"

The sound of Denji being hit by a car. Sakura looks back over her shoulder. She makes an annoyed noise that sounds nearly as grating as the sound of Marisol eating too-hot chili. "He doesn't get it! He doesn't get it at all! I had a system and none of you are getting it! God! We're going to lose the King of Fighters and ARE YOU STILL HERE?!"

Somewhere in that sentence Sakura has turned back to face Farah. "And where the hell did Makari go?! What is /WRONG/ with all of you?! RRRRGH!" Sakura gets so angry that she punches a mailbox, causing it to explode into a geyser of mail, which eventually flickers out of existence.

"I almost wish I was on a team with SHINGO!"

"HAH!" Wang crows triumphantly as Denji dies, forever, leaving him as sole victor in the battle for Farah's heart. Everything is fantastic now, /for literally ever/.

oh wait no sakura's still here

"Oh, don't mind her, my little love dingo." The boy smiles broadly, as though he were enjoying a pleasant dream, which is perhaps the first definite sign that he /does/ have a brain for Farah's craziness to influence.

"I'm sure she'll try to headbutt a jet engine or something equally retarded, and that will be the last we ever see of her, leaving us free to plan the wedding." Unphased by Sakura's uncalled for mail-related violence even though it is a FEDERAL OFFENSE, he reaches out an inviting hand to his favorite teammate.

"Now, how many children do you think we should we have you have?"

"IF YOU CAN DODGE A CAR, YOU HAVE ONLY BEGUN!"

Makari Maksimillian drops from the sky and attempts to land on Wang.

I don't really think this pose needs much more for the moment.

What is going on.

It's hard for the 'real' Farah, buried in the core somewhere under strata of Vega influence, emotional distress, a genuine crisis of identity, and potentially a week without proper hygiene, to process all this craziness. But what she can sense -- really sense -- buried underneath the craziness that her unchecked power has kind of induced (not in Makari... never in Makari) is a camaraderie that may be a seed now, but will someday grow into something powerful. Or at least, that's what Farah's inner light sees it as. And like a spear, the knowledge that this thing has grown in her absence drives deep into her heart, which is already vulnerable enough as it is. Somewhere under that whirlpool of confusion is a person who has desperately wanted to know that she isn't truly alone, that she can form bonds with real people, who has (in her clouded eyes) seen that hope absolutely and irrevocably dashed.

In an anime-like convention of pure trite-ness, for a moment that erratic aura of Soul Power flares around Farah like a corona as she doesn't know what to do. Conflicting impulses rage at her. Demand their obedience! Kill them! Ask them to forgive *HER*. Demand to know why they've abandoned her when she needed them most.

And then it is gone, and at last she appears to be resolved. Like a fog nobody knew they were even standing in, the empathic echo she was broadcasting abruptly stops.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded as she speaks to Wang, but doesn't really look at him. Probably because, at this point, Makari is *standing on him*. "Children... no. No. I will go, alone. As was obviously meant to be."

She had her own path, and Vega offered her another. Ultimately, they appear to have led her to the same place she started from: being by herself.

SOME TIME AGO

Wang sits in his room, alone like usual, creating a comprehensive list of his multimedia purchases. "Carry the one, and...yes! Ha ha! If I don't eat for the next three weeks, I'll have just enough to get /everything/!" He leaps into the air and fistpumps before the screen freezes and the credits roll.

NOW

A man who weighs over twice as much as him lands on Wang, who in turn lands on his bag of precious treasures. It makes the same sound as one thousand crickets being hit by a mallet.

Wang begins to weep softly underneath Makari, and then Farah /stone cold rejects him/.

Wang begins to cry like a little baby orphan girl with a toothache.

Sakura was pretty angry for a while but now she feels that fading from her body like an old memory of a cherished Christmas -- lost forever. "Huh?" she says, looking confused and oblivious to Makari crushing Wang's hopes and dreams.

"Man, what just...?" Sakura looks at Makari, who is now suddenly next to her instead of Wang, and then down at Wang, who is suddenly at her feet. "What are you doing down there?" She looks over at Farah, then back at her two male teammates. She's about to say something, when a flashback strikes.

SOME TIME AGO

"blah blah blah FARAH-CHAN blah blah blah FARAH-CHAN blah blah blah blah blah blah SAKURA blah blah blah FARAH-CHAN"

Sakura is thinking about what the world would be like if cars were made of candy and roads were made of taffy when Denji, who she's been pretending to pay attention to, suddenly shoves in front of her this signed 8x10 of Farah, and promptly keeps blah-blah-blahing about her.

NOW

"You're the girl from Denji's picture!" Sakura suddenly blurts. "Farah-chan! I mean, Farah!"

Makari Maksimillian, in full battle regalia - nobody has ever seen him in /anything else/, come to think, even when sleeping - steps down off of Wang. "Hoh, unfortunate! You must work on your readiness!" He attempts to pick Wang up and dust off his front.

Wang will likely just fall back down into a puddle when released.

His cloak is thrown back only behind his right shoulder, because he thinks it looks cool, and Makari surveys the area. Sakura is shrieking, so that is normal. Denji is dead, so not too far off. Wang is sobbing, which is normal. Farah is /here/, which is abnormal.

Completely failing to read the atmosphere, magnificently dense to any kind of psychic echo for time time being, Makari's squared face splits into a grin. "Ha! Farah! There you are, I have not seen you. Look, I have found Denji, as you say, and we have joined up together. Excellent, yes?" He steps forward, and brazenly clasps the Egyptian on her shoulder.

"And this is Sakura. Of the Rising Dragons, yes? Says she is The Ryu's student! She is like our coach. Now, come, enough of this nonsense about being alone, we have a tournament to win. One cannot become King of Fighters alone! It is nonsense." He pulls, trying to bring her along. "Sakura has us on this dodging lesson! Cutting-edge techniques! I will have to write a letter back home about it!"

How far do you have to fall before the collective of Sakura, Makari, and Wang all seem *perfectly logical and rational* compared to the actions you are taking?

SOME TIME AGO

Scroll backwards. For best effect, play "Yakkety Sax" in the background.

NOW

Pretty damn far.

AND YET that is exactly how it must seem to onlookers, because Farah stares at Makari's hand on her shoulder like he was made of cellophane, and at Sakura appearing to recognize her (where did that glossy come from, if she were in her right mind she'd be terrified, _she didn't give it to him_), and even at Wang's sobbing though that last one is sort of understandable, even scale mail is *amazingly heavy*. But that impulse is still raging inside her, because no matter which voice she listens to, the result is the same. Her conscience tells her there will always be a wall between herself and people like this, and the best thing for her to do is to separate herself from them, for their own good and hers.

The dark voice of Vega's psychic energy lingering in her spirit tells her that someday, their corpses will lay at her feet when she is a goddess, and befriending them is pointless.

And then there is that feeling like a hand closing around her heart, every time she thinks about either one. She doesn't want to be alone. She *doesn't*.

"You have built... all this without me," she says at last, sounding numb. "That is proof enough."

"What are you talking about? These guys like, never shut up about you," Sakura says, eyes widening to emphasize this particularly tactless flattery. "Seriously, it's like blah blah blah FARAH-CHAN blah blah blah FARAH-CHAN and whenever I'm not training these guys they're either looking for you or trying to scam people into feeding them." Sakura may just be imagining things but that is her Bobby Brown-style prerogative.

Sakura shrugs. "I mean, I dunno, I'm just, like, the coach, so they never tell me anything."

Writhing on the ground in the aftermath of the most thorough agony he has ever known, Wang continues to wail and mourn and gnash his teeth with a complete lack of shame despite how this is a public place and he should by all right be mortified.

And, gradually, this is what happens. The shuddering sobs recede somewhat, and Wang begins to push himself up to his feet. He gets just far enough to see the shattered remnants of all of his free time over the next several months, spilled all over the street.

He collapses, and reaches out with one hand for the only hope he has left.

"F-faraaaaaaaaaaaaah-ha haaaaaaaa!"

Having proven Sakura's point, it's back to the weeping.

Makari Maksimillian throws his head back and laughs. It's a deep, rich laugh, the kind of laugh a man with no worries has. Or at least, no worries he's concerned with. "Please! With this nonsense. The crying boy and the dead boy, you are what they do this for! Me, not so much, but you are not my type! Don't feel so bad." He claps Farah on the shoulder.

It's difficult to discern if Makari is truly unaware, or if he has an inkling that Farah is still so conflicted, and is trying to pound through it with pure bluff cheer. "Where I am from, you see, people are mostly concerned with themselves. A man goes to Strolheim to become strong! Not so concerned about bringing others with them. So you see, I was already different. Out here, sure, you can be alone, but! Joining up with others, letting everyone contribute the way they can, there! I bring drive, Sakura brings her experience, Denji brings his enthusiam, Wang, he..."

Makari stares down at Wang.

"Farah! You have something to contribute yourself, yes? We are a team, last I knew! Come, then, come."

She's... what?

That gives her pause. It was clear from the inception of this team -- one that started as an accidental realization on the part of Denji that Farah already had a KoF invite, and their totally coincidental realization that Wang might actually be a fighter who could join them -- that to Farah, it all seemed like happy circumstance, really. It's not entirely clear if she is, at her best, aware and merely hiding the knowledge that Denji and Wang have perhaps... ulterior motives for wanting to be in her company, or if she is well and truly oblivious in the way that only truly hot and well-meaning girls can be. In the end, the result is much the same; she trusted it to fate, and didn't necessarily ascribe any particular motivation to how the team came together. And somehow, like some sort of fireball-throwing, bootknife-stabbing, armor-plated, flat-chested katamari, it rolled up Sakura and Makari and now they are involved. The logic of the situation would dictate that if that's really how things went, it's not as if Farah were needed. It was just dumb luck.

But she can feel Makari's sincerity, and Sakura's dawning realization/guileless honesty, in her heart. And none of it makes sense. Why make the connection at all? What could she possibly have to contribute?

And both the light and the dark voices inside say: The power.

But...

"You don't..." she starts, before looking up at Makari and Sakura since, at this point, it's physically impossible to keep them in her field of vision AND make eye contact with the sobbing Wang. "This power isn't like yours." It's stupid, the words SOUND STUPID, and the way she says them is almost like the plaintive tone of a child and not the young adult the Farah is. Perhaps inside, that's just how she feels.

"So?" Sakura says. She seems totally mystified that Farah's point is in any way a problem. "I can't shoot electricity out of my hair like Blanka, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't let him on my team. You know?" It's that simple to her!

Then the Maiden of True Ultimate Ansatsuken Homebrew Power looks over her shoulder. "You know, I should probably go make sure Denji isn't, like, actually dead. If you decide not to stick around for some reason, Farah, uh, nice meeting you?"

Wang does his part by ensuring that no matter how childish Farah might feel, she is positively /ancient/ in comparison.

"W-why..." He's doing his best not to look at it all, but he can /feel/ the broken shards digging into his chest. INTO HIS HEART. And Farah won't even look at him.

"Why won't you come back?" Finally, Wang moves onto the next step: bargaining.

MY LIFE IS OVEEEEEEEEEER!"

And then it's right back to whatever step he was at just a couple seconds ago.

"It is as they say." Makari nods, as though Sakura made an amazing point. Wang's point was mostly 'sobbing uncontrollably'. "No two people have the same power, yes? I give my axes to Denji, what does he do with them? Probably stumbles around, cuts himself! I could no more wield your fancy ribbon business than you could go into battle in platemail!" Makari bangs his chest, and laughs.

"Look, think of it this way, at least then Denji and Wang, maybe they start doing something interesting. I am looking forward to seeing them try and one-up each other like shaggy peacocks! I say again, come, enough of all this. I think it is approaching time to eat! Strong bodies like ours grow hungry quickly, ha ha ha!" The blonde weaponmaster grins hugely at Farah one more time, eyes glittering. "Seriously, enough. How can we win without all of us practicing? Come!"

He's massive, and muscled, blond, and most importanly Russian. However...

SOME TIME AGO

Katsuhiko Tenjou, proud father, reaches down and offers his hand to a sniffling Farah (age 8) who had defiantly demanded her former Judo-using circuit fighter teach her a few moves. Which he had, by slamming her into the grass in their warm, seaside Alexandria home in a single go. She didn't want to cry, she wanted to be strong, but that hurt, and she doesn't like being hurt.

As if reading her mind, her Japanese father assures her, pulling the girl to her feet, "Sometimes it is okay to be hurt. It is a risk you will take often in life." And then he had clapped his hands. "For my brave girl, let's have a treat! Something from your Daddy's homeland for once."

Expecting sweets, Farah rushes inside and then stops dead, looking at the kitchen table. Tears well up in her eyes as Katushiko booms, proudly: "Raw fish wrapped in seaweed!"

NOW

There is an unstable moment where Farah just... LOOKS at Makari, before she suddenly hurls herself forward at him, attempting to go for... well, the 'girlfriend needs comforting' hug, burying her face in his cloak and sniffling and crying erratically. It's all too much for her, but perhaps in their own accidental way, the Russian and the most legendary of fighting schoolgirls have cracked the shell.

And she is not his type. However.

Farah is *awfully* warm and soft.

Farah embraces Makari. They are hugging. Together. Like, with their bodies.

On the plus side, Wang stops crying. However, this may only be because he is now choking. Choking on pure /rage/ that Makari should...should DESPOIL his SPECIAL LADY so.

It's probably for the best that he has already worn himself out with all these.../emotions/. "Makk...kk..." Wang valiently struggles to pronounce the name of the man who is SYSTEMATICALLY RUINING HIS LIFE around his own sudden inability to form words or coherent thought beyond how that should be him, there. Holding Farah to his manly, almost superhumanly well-defined chest while she weeps out her soft, womanly problems.

Instead, Wang headbutts the ground in rage and then starts writhing anew, forgetting all about his anger because /that was really stupid and painful/.

Farah impacts Makari, all of his years of combat training shattering away from him in an instant. He nearly loses his balance, mouth agape, and staggers back a few steps.

SOME TIME AGO

Makari Maksimillian, age seven, attempts to hug a maid as she tucks him into bed. Efim Maksimillian kicks his door in and hits him with a belt, over and over. "NO HUGGING GIRLS!"

LESS TIME AGO

Makari Maksimillian, age fifteen, awkwardly attempts to transition past handholding with a young kickboxer lady he's managed to hit it off with. Wolfgang Krauser suddenly erupts from the floor, hitting Makari with a curtain rod, over and over. "NO HUGGING GIRLS!"

LIKE LAST WEEK

Makari Maksimillian, age 18, impulsively attempts to hug a female police officer that just gave him directions to the Southtown park. She immediately begins spraying him with pepper spray, over and over. "SEKUHARA DES!"

NOW

Makari is frozen for a few moments, arms in a locked position, eyes wide. His gaze darts left and right, mouth slowly hanging open, feet planted. "H--hhooooh, see, it is fine." Slowly, like his arms are ancient mechanisms untriggered for decades, his hands close around Farah, Makari careful not to crush her against all the steel. "You have not lost much time, it will be easy to catch up." He takes one more look around for any vengeful agents, and just... bows his head. It occurs to him that there are things about life he is completely unprepared for.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wang headbutting the ground, and silently approves. When the Earth itself falls before you, so too will your enemies! Reach for that star!

And so we bid adieu to this tableau, this Norman Rockwell moment. Sure, there's an exploded fire hydrant, a blown-out store front, one postbox complete with two weeks worth of now-vanished mail, two broken wrists, $49 in spilled beer, a rather larger and somewhat shameful sum in destroyed h-games, a completely ruined bike-powered rickshaw, cracked pavement that is growing increasingly more cracked in a relatively oval-shaped zone near the sidewalk, one reason why Roy and Batsu will never make eye contact again, a partially ruined Shadaloo experiment in Psycho Power, two dented car fenders, and the shattered remains of Wang's emotional well-being. In the process of working out her demons Farah has thoroughly confused Sakura, made Makari paranoid that Wolfgang Krauser is hiding inside a dark corner like Zardoz to punish him for fraternizing, nearly gotten Denji killed, and potentially tripped the switch in Wang's head that flips him over from 'well-meaning if selfish geek' to 'I'm Chris Hansen and this is To Catch a Predator.'

She couldn't be happier.

Log created on 20:17:13 01/21/2011 by Farah, and last modified on 01:26:39 01/22/2011.