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Thread: The Never-ending Story Thread²

  1. #1881
    Virgin Fleet Admiral

    Britt in Atlantis!

    The Story Thus Far...

    The return of the Ever-ending Plot (the EeP) is on everyone's lips and many groups prepare for its imminent return. However they are fragmented and groups contest with each other for dominance, despite the impending doom.

    The Seals foretelling "The End" of the Never-ending Story are being broken one-by-one and it seems destiny is befalling the many Characters of these "Final Pages". The NeS Heroes, pursuing the Seals from breaking, most recently traveled to Darth Vice's private island, Isla de Morte, to confront Vice before The Last True Evil does. The Last True Evil, rejected by Losien, continues descending on his path to true evil, cited at the greatest evil the NeS will face in its Final Pages. However, others still would invoke the Ever-ending Plot and the legendary Britt, currently Brittica X, seeks to become the embodiment of the EeP after the demise of his own Story. In that desire, both Britt and Gebohq have been pulled into the shattered thread of NeS, where the source of the Ever-ending Plot looms.

    If you're interested in how writers can get paid for writing, skip to Post #1901 down below:

    Current Cast of Heroes: A Team

    Losien Simon
    Losien is the Main Character of the NeS and has a strong-mind and strong-will, yet she constantly feels unworthy of her mantle and her leadership of the group is often called into question - forcing her to act on her own when others don't agree with her choices. Her façade of bravery may be a mask to hide her true cowardice running towards death to escape dealing with the problems of her life. She wields Fred, Teh Uber Blade and wears Carlotta the Cape - both of which are sentient and able to communicate with Losien through her mind. She has also been somewhat detached from her soul, which is often either trailing behind her or leading her forward through the narrative. Her Potential is Gwenhwyfar.

    Evil G
    Evil G, who is sometimes known as Gebiyl, is an alternate dimension version of Gebohq Simon where he was a major Powerplayer of the NeShattered. However his cruel heart melted when he fell in love, and married, Young. He had to escape the confines of his own universe to escape the Ever-ending Plot which consumed it. He joined the NeS Heroes to be close to his wife, Young, and help raise his child, Chance. He is generally the anti-hero of the NeS Heroes and often has darker methods of dealing with situations than others would like. He also finds most of the NeS Heroes incredibly annoying as he's often smarter and, in some ways, more sensible then the rest. Yet he enjoys winding them all up with insults and sarcasm to entertain himself. Despite all of this, he is one of the few that is truly aware of what is to come. He carries his own NeShattered NeSword. His own Potential was killed many Story Arcs ago.

    Tracer was a Man of Mystery and wandered around in his own detective novel. A mixture of Dick Tracy, James Bond and Neo from The Matrix, Tracer was often an ominous presence in the NeS Heroes' shadow, or a goofy loony bin narrating himself. However when he stepped through a shattered dimensional portal he shattered himself into pieces - pieces of Tracer from across the multiverse. Now Tracer is irregularly transitioning between different versions of Tracer from across the Multiverse, ranging from Sherlock-Tracer to Child-Tracer. MZZT believes that Tracer will be lost the longer he remains a part of this "ShatteredTracer" as the dimensional timelines diverge. Tracer's Potential is The Orator.

    Amal is the adoptive nephew of Arkng Thand and then his care-taker switched to TLTE. Amal, however, went through a sudden growth spurt and is now a young man and potentially the future Main Character of the NeS. He is an eager learner and often understands more of the situation than most would believe, especially after learning much from Soriel. He is quite the heroic type, but does have a much darker streak that he likely learnt from TLTE. A hero that will do what he must. Amal wields a copy of the NeSword, given to him by Gebohq Simon. Amal's Potential, Qho Anima, was recently killed by TLTE.

    Iriana Emp
    Once the Princess of Atlantis - a title made possible by her mother - her status, along with the legend of Atlantis, was forcibly forgotten by Michael MacFarlane during the previous story arc. Iriana Emp is also the Queen of Armenia, made possible by her father, Highemperor (now Al Ciao), though she prefers to be called a princess. She has recently become reacquainted with her father, Al Ciao, and they have many issues that they need to work out. His arrival has caused Iriana to doubt herself and long to understand who she truly is, particularly now that she is no longer involved with Couchman. She is posh, spoilt and believes everyone should do as she commands them to. She also has an addiction to tea. Her Potential is Nyktelios.

    Miss Fire
    A long-time NeS Hero, Miss Fire was fatally wounded during a fight in a previous Story Arc and thus put into a stasis chamber that would keep her in state. When the Haunted Hall of Heroes was burnt down by the NeSferatu, the NeS Heroes had to save her pod from destruction. Finally she has been revived by Mecha Lou, a techno-witch, who gave her a cybernetic heart to help her live. The new heart runs on the mains and she must recharge from a power outlet when her energy runs low. She can supercharge herself to give herself a major adrenaline rush.

    Polly Simon
    Sometimes known as "Geb's Mom" or "Los' Mom", Polly Simon recently mingled with the NeS Heroes because she wants her daughter, Losien, to rise up and become the Queen of Jupiter. This would, however, mean she'd be frozen in carbonite for 500 years. Polly used a wish from Baba Yaga to grant her eternal youth and now appears the same age as her own daughter. When Losien refused, Polly tried to force Apple to take the throne instead, Losien's daughter, however Apple has since become Chronos and beyond such things - leaving Polly with only Losien as an option again. Polly succeeded in having Baba grant one last wish - a wish that Losien would stop loving TLTE. Baba Yaga revealed to Polly that TLTE only believes he loves Losien, it is not true love. Polly does not seem to have a Potential, possibly due to her use of Baba Yaga's wish.

    The Potential of Losien Simon, Gwenhwyfar is a knight with a cataphract horse as her mount. She wields and overly large sword and, unlike her unPotential, is usually stern, strict and direct. Her motivations are unusual but she seems to harbour a grudge against the unPotentials and a strange envy for Losien herself. Despite once trying to destroy Losien, Gwen suddenly came around and saved her unPotential from certain death. Now she aids the NeS Heroes, already accepted by them regardless of their past. It is unclear if Gwen believes herself a NeS Heroes, but her new team mates certainly do.

    Al Ciao
    Al Ciao is often the goofy comic-relief for the NeS Heroes, yet he has the darkest and most elaborate history as Highemperor. Although most characters see Al Ciao as a goofball, he is also father to Iriana Emp, Lucy, an alien-thingy and now Lior, the child of his wife Verrine(Lady LightSide). However he also died sometime ago and was brought back to life in his new cyborg body by Mecha Lou. Now with his mechanoid body he is able to perform an array of awesome cyborg techniques and attacks. Mostly Al Ciao is trying to keep his "family" together, make amends with his daughter and now raise Lior with his wife. His Potential was killed by Antestarr many Story Arcs ago.

    Subaru Yamamoto has powers over chi that allow her to perform many unusual tasks, including running up walls, walking on water and hurling herself around. She can also heal, which she considers to be her secondary task - her first is to maim anything before her with a gigantic axe. Once she was always second-fiddle to her friends, but lately she has come to shine alone. She loves Antestarr but she felt, recently, a pang of betrayal as he was turned into a vampire by another woman. Yet she accepted him still until he eventually turned her away and left the NeS Heroes to start turning people into NeSferatu and forming an army - along with Nyneve, the woman that turned him. Subaru is feeling emotionally fragile and hurt. She knows that Antestarr wants to turn Subaru into a NeSferatu, but she does not want to become like him. Although fragile, she is still head-headed, over-confident and brash on all other things. Her Potential is Orochi.

    Frank Smith
    he Time Cop from the future was sent back in time to deal with a series of time anomalies that led him to the character Apple of the NeS Heroes. However Apple would later turn out to be Chronos in the future, and head of the Time Enforcement Agency (TEA). Turns out she sent him back in time to purposefully lead to her own existence and, probably, to eventually save herself from her own mistakes. Frank is a confident, hero-type but he tends to get himself into a lot of trouble due to his over-confidence. He is also likely experiencing a mid-life crisis and had a dalliance with a much younger man. Frank has a watch that allows him to open a time vortex and transport himself, and anyone touching him, through time and space. The watch's A.I. is called CynthAI Mk XIV, however a second A.I. has also been installed into the watch known as CaptAIn and is, in fact, the personality of Captain Cadpill. Frank killed his own Potential to save Losien Simon and the others from a Potential attack.

    Current Cast of Heroes: Elsewhere (for now)

    With Emperor Pi at his residence
    Emperor Pi
    The secret Emperor of China and father to Rachel Pi, Emperor Pi lives in the forbidden city of the sky - a palace floating upon the clouds over China, hidden from all. He has many concubines and has mystical kung fu powers that he claims comes from his tea-drinking habits. He has a calm, serene demeanour and loves his daughter, Rachel, very much. He cares a great deal for his daughter and his recent involvement in the NeS has largely been focused on trying to keep her safe and support her through her romantic troubles with her lover, Gebohq. He has also proven to be quite enigmatic in his approach towards characters that are not his daughter, especially Al Ciao and Britt. He long ago achieved his Potential, as the Jade Emperor of China.

    Verrine (Lady LightSide)
    Once the Fallen Angel Verrine, she was consumed by her forever lover Marcus and he transformed into DarkSide. However her presence was buried deep within as the counter "LightSide". The events of Memory Lane Story Arc brought this old soul back to the surface of DarkSide and she not only married Al Ciao but got pregnant. When she gave birth, DarkSide was, once again, unleashed but LightSide survived and now the two entities are split and she joins her husband their new child, Lior. She is often a reasonable voice and is definitely a controlling influence upon Al Ciao, encouraging him in positive ways and keeping his idiocy in check.

    Rachel Pi
    Once merely a Random Audience Member, Rachel Pi wished for characterhood - autonomy in the NeS - when she fell in love with Gebohq. Her wish was granted when a deal was struck with Arkng Thand, who arranged to allow Rachel character autonomy in the story and seek Gebohq's heart in return for taking within her the potential of April Fools' Day. Rachel is now pregnant with Gebohq's child, but seems somewhat conflicted on the issue as her and Geb's relationship has been rather bumpy recently. Her father, Emperor Pi, is also hanging around after it was revealed that he had long ago evolved into his Potential. Rachel herself has been revealed to be her own Potential.


    Outside the Magium
    Mimiru is probably the wealthiest NeS Hero to exist, possessing a lot of money but also a lot of sense. She's smart and methodical and can sometimes find the stupidity of her team mates either grating or endearing. She is fast and skilled in combat, and while she is learning magic from her husband, Cool Matty, she has very little skill in the subject and is not a natural with magic. She put her own quest, to find her missing family, when she married Cool Matty.

    Cool Matty
    Cool Matty, otherwise known as Tsukasa, is one of the NeS Hero's most competent magic-wielders. He is married to Mimiru and tries to teach her magic, but she has no latent skill with the subject. He focuses on magical currents throughout the NeS and often acts on his own vendettas rather than abiding by the consensus of the team.

    Other Major Characters: Various Groups

    The Cult of X
    The Cult of X are a group dedicated to the Plot. To this end varying leaders have either followed the Ever-ending Plot, or rejected it. However the group, under Aetas X, found a secondary objective - Britt, the Sleeper. Britt, however, was killed by Antestarr. He resurrected himself through Antestarr and eventually took the body of a clone (of Aetas X, who's clone is always the Seer for he cult) and made himself the Seer for the Cult of X as Brittica X. Members of the cult always end with "X" and includes long-term NeS Hero, Rob X.
    • Antestarr
    • Brittica X
    • Rob X
    • The Cult of X - Including Maxim X, Cygnus X.


    Nyneve, once last of the NeSferatu, has become the Emperor of France and a bid to prepare against the impending arrival of the Eep. However this is also the return of her kind and she has not only the Emperor of France, but of the NeSferatu too. She is aided by two Potentials, Midas and Orochi, who want to stop the Eep. Young is a captive of Nyneve still.
    • Nyneve
    • Orochi
    • Midas
    • Young


    Great Britain
    Maeve became the Queen of Britain and, when she did so, established the Remembered Forces, from the former Forgotten Forces. They now use Britain as their HQ for operations across the world, liberating the Forgotten and preparing for the impending Eep.
    • Queen Maeve
    • Couchman
    • Twin Suns (Kern)
    • The Remembered Forces-includes Sran Cadpill, The Otter, Voodoo Snowflakes, Ping, etc


    The U.S.A.

    In an unexpected move, Arkng Thand became the President of the USA and is intent on controlling the populace through mass media and his henchman, Thrawn42689. However Thand usually spends his time reading Britt: The Legend for insight and hasn't revealed his true motivations.
    • Arkng Thand
    • Thrawn42689


    Hands of the NeS
    Having defeated Mayaal, Venedite, a Potential, became the new Hand of the NeS. However Bhac kept Mayaal secretly chained up in the l33t. Only when the villains disappeared did Mayaal become free and joined Venedite despite their past. Gebohq recently took the mantle as the other Hand of NeS.
    • Venedite
    • Gebohq
    • Mayaal
    • Bhac Ssylan


    Heaven & Hell
    Mr Nine, the current ruler of Hell, has returned and seeks to prepare for the coming of the Eep. Jim7 seems more concerned with his go-karting as God, however he has recently resurrected The Patriot as God's Advocate.
    • Mr Nine
    • Jim7


    Independent Characters
    Discarded by his love, Losien, TLTE is seeking is ultimate destiny as the true ultimate evil of the NeS and has broken several Seals thus far. He recently killed Qho Anima, the Potential of Amal. The Patriot has recently been resurrected and seeks his old team mates, Hero Force One, but they are unavailable. However he is the oldest rival to TLTE and his return right now may be part of destiny's weave. Ares and Athena, two Greek Gods, have currently got the NeS Heroes and all of the villains within the newly built Colosseum in Rome becoming to Athena and evidently intend to stage something epic for the paying audiences. MZZT is often available for tech support back at the old HoH, where the heroes often find themselves returning. He is also taking care of Chance and the ghosts from the now burnt down HHH are with him.
    • TLTE
    • Ares
    • Athena
    • MZZT


    The legend continues on!

    Quote Originally Posted by Britt the Legend: Chapter 43
    Britt pops back into the late cretaceous period from the 1940s.


    He sees the ladies around his sleeping body still, and grins - he's not lost his chance at a lay!

    Britt: Hello, ladies!

    Duchess of Squiremast: Baron! So good of you to time travel back. You're a bit late, I'm afraid.

    Countess of Diggleton: You really are as virile as the Duchess said!

    Duchess of Squiremast: We've all already sated ourselves on your comatose form, and I'm afraid we can only mate once per year. Biological restrictions.

    Britt: But... but...

    Countess of Diggleton: We could bypass that of course with a certain Engine of course, but no lady of quality would use such a... coarse device!

    Britt: And my... *ahem* doesn't count as a coarse device?

    Duchess of Squiremast: I should say not! Fare thee well, Baron!

    Britt bids them glumly farewell, and looks jealously at his sleeping form from his personal past. He trods off to work out his frustration by shooting some dinosaurs.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chapter 43, Continued
    A long time later, dinosaurs are dying out. Discharding hunting expeditions are fewer and farther between. Britt is resolutely tromping through bushes and foliage, looking for more prey, when he comes into a glade and espies an incredibly gorgeous woman! He grins.

    His grin widens when he sees that the incredibly gorgeous woman has an identical twin!

    His grin threatens to split his face when he sees that the incredibly gorgeous woman has an identical triplet!

    Britt: Helllllllllo, ladies!

    His grin falters when the three women turn a withering glare on him, and he notices that other figures are with them.

    Three Fates: What mortal dares to interfere with our penultimate ritual?

    The three women speak simultaneously, with identical voices and inflections. It's actually quite creepy.

    Aeon: A time traveler, by the looks of it. I don't remember authorizing any such time travel!

    Runekeeper: By his attire, I'd presume he's with the Discharding expeditions. Mega Jonestown Prime customs officials are remarkably lax about letting them come here.

    The Three Fates looks hard at Britt, and he shifts uncomfortably under her threefold scrutiny.

    Three Fates: You have a remarkably strong destiny, but it's not one I've ordained. It has... what are narrative threads doing in my universe?

    She suddenly looks so hostile that Britt shrinks back.

    Britt: Well, sorry to interrupt, but I suppose I'd better--

    A soft and mild yet paradoxically firm voice interrupts them, and both gods and Britt turn to see a fairly nondescript being whose face can't be properly seen, as though they're looking at him out the corner of their eyes.

    WriterGod: I'm afraid you may have to get used to narrative threads, my dear.

    Aeon: Wait. Time is going into flux. I can sense it.

    Runekeeper: It would appear that metaphysical narrative is being woven into the fabric of reality, retroactively.

    Three Fates: A WRITER has interfered! This is your doing, old man!

    WriterGod: The Ancient Writer wished a world of freedom. I showed him this one. You may find that Mega Jonestown Prime would not have become so great without a story here beckoning travelers through it.

    Aeon: He's right. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff is happening.

    Britt doesn't comprehend any of this, except that apparently one god is getting all the other gods mad at him? Time to make good his escape! But Aeon pauses from addressing his fellows to fix Britt with a stare.

    Aeon: You're not going anywhere. I still have to determine the legality of your temporal traipses.

    Britt finds himself rooted to the spot, unable to move, partially paralyzed as a pocket of time congeals around him. He can still hear and see, however, and finds himself ongoing witness.

    WriterGod: The Ancient Writer only lays claim to Earth, so fear not for your demesnes.

    Runekeeper: I'm afraid that is unacceptable. Earth is the crown jewel of our creation, we've spent eons creating and refining it. A locus of fate and magic, for Mega Jonestown Prime to land upon and take up its rightful place as metaphysical center of the cosmos.

    Three Fates: Dammit, it's too late! Narrative has seized this world already!

    WriterGod: This world is now freed from your purposes, and as such has a right to its own heaven and god. I have volunteered to be its divine steward.

    Three Fates: We will have words with your Writer, old man.

    WriterGod: I expect he is also eager to speak with you, once he manifests in this realm. For now, however, I believe this creature deserves a divine blessing?

    The WriterGod gestures to the mostly formless shape of clay in the center of the glade, around which the other gods had gathered.

    Aeon: Oh, come on! He was the finalizing of our creation! The first mortal of this world, to create a race of titans! To be gifted with infinite time, strength as mighty as destiny is certain, and arcane wisdom!

    WriterGod: He will still possess all that. But I bestow also a fourth gift.

    The WriterGod leans over the hunk of clay, and breathes gently on it.

    WriterGod: will.

    The WriterGod's breath becomes an expanding mist enshrouding the hunk of clay, obscuring it from sight. Glimmering light can be glimpsed within, and then Britt's heart almost stops as he hears an intake of breath from within.

    He is witnessing the birth of human life on Earth!

    The mist clears, and a man - the first man - stands to his feet, tall and strong.

    WriterGod: I name thee Adam Terraleph... Man, first of earth.

    The Runekeeper blinks, and looks between Adam Terraleph and Britt.

    Runekeeper: Wait... these two... they're the same!

    Confusion covers Britt's face. They don't look the same at all! Adam Terraleph is taller, and muscular, and much better looking, much as he hates to admit it--

    Britt: OH. You mean we're both human.

    Aeon: You're a future-human! What are you doing here?

    WriterGod: I believe his credentials check out, if you care to examine them.

    He throws a kindly wink at Britt - who can't quite comprehend how he can't make out the WriterGod's face yet can perceive a wink from him - and guides Adam Terraleph away, to show him the world he inherits.

    Aeon, the cosmic god of Time, scowls at Britt, and looks at the badge pinned to his chest.

    Aeon: TEA? What the hells is that?

    Britt: Time agency?

    Aeon: No, it's not, I run the time agency, and this isn't-- BUGGER IT! An Earth-based time agency from the future.

    Runekeeper: This Ancient Writer has declared this world's independence in every way it seems. Earth gets its own time agency, its own god, its own hell, its own magic.

    Three Fates: Its own fate.

    A very black look is on all three women's faces. Britt, in a combination of terror from that look and of generally wanting women in his vicinity to be happy - they have better chances of sleeping with him if they're happy, after all - speaks up, in what is probably an unwise move.

    Britt: Why don't you stand up to him?

    The faces of all three gods - five faces total, considering that Three Fates has 3 - swivel to look at him. Their features are painted with consternation and shock.

    Britt: Well, I mean, there's only one of him, and three - or five - of you.

    Three Fates: Uh well, been great catching up, but I have, er, pressing business elsewhere.

    Runekeeper: As do I.

    Aeon: Yeah, and I have some urgent, uh, time crimes to investigate.

    The gods vanish, and Britt finds himself able to move again.

    Britt: Whoa. That was super weird. Like they're afraid of that guy or something.

    He starts to walk in the direction that Adam Terraleph and the WriterGod went, but then thinks better of it.

    Britt: If those bigwigs are afraid of him, maybe I don't want to tangle with him either.

    He walks in the other direction.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chapter 43, Later
    Millions of years pass. The dinosaurs are finally gone, save for a few in forgotten lands or exotic collectors' zoos. More humans start appearing, and Britt can only imagine that the WriterGod created a mate for Adam Terraleph, who then proceeded to breed the human race.

    Britt finds lots of enterprise teaching the earliest humans about fire and wheels, but upon angling for payment realizes he then has to teach them about money too.

    Years pass, and humans start expanding outward, and when they hit the ocean that will one day be called the Atlantic, Britt teaches them how to build a boat, and starts ferrying people across various seas, straits, and oceans.

    Britt: If only Kaptin could see me now.

    At this point, Britt is captain of his own ship - the world's first boat! in your face Noah! - and has a regular business of ferrying people, for which he is handsomely paid. It is one day however, that 12 men and their wives approach him for passage across the Atlantic to an island that he's never heard of.

    Britt: I've never heard of a giant island in the middle of the ocean.

    Farmer Zin: I know, I heard the Narrator say that.

    Britt: The who?

    Cakemaker Possipher: Ever since we were chosen by the Most High, we have been attuned to the secrets of the universe, including the ever-present Voice.

    Britt: Right, so you're a bunch of crazies. Sorry, no can do.

    Magician Luros: The Most High told us to tell you his name, and then you would take us.

    Britt: Riiiiiiiiight.

    Doctor Tennant: His name is... the WriterGod.

    Long-ago images of three immortal and powerful beings looking fearful at the mild-mannered deity's mention flash across Britt's memory, and he chuckles weakly.

    Britt: Right then. Where's this island again?

    The trip is incredibly difficult, storms harassing them the whole way, and sea serpents surrounding them. In the midst of one particularly horrendous monsoon that is tossing giant sea serpents around them in the air, Britt is struggling to control the wheel.

    Britt: Dammit, if the WriterGod has told y'all to do this, you'd think he'd at least smooth the passage!

    Farmer Zin: That's why he told us to charter you! That you had the strength and ability to see us safely to our destination.

    Britt: Look, while I like flattery, I prefer it from the lips of beautiful ladies...

    Cakemaker Possipher: Land hooooooooo!

    Britt whirls his head around, struggling to sea in the driving wind and rain.

    Britt: Where?!

    Cakemaker Possipher: Right th--

    At that moment, the boat crashes upon a rock jutting out from the island. Everyone heaves themselves from the splintering boat onto dry land, and the cakemaker finishes his sentence.

    Cakemaker Possipher: Right there.

    Britt merely glares at him.

    Apparently stranded for the moment on this island, Britt eventually decides to help these 12 men and their wives - and later their progeny - build the city that the WriterGod commanded them to found.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chapter 43, What's Twice-Forgotten
    The city grows into a stunning metropolis, and the home of all 7 Wonders of the Even More Ancient World. Made rich and famous by its banana-crème Oreo knockoffs, prosperous in trade and in war, with cutting-edge magic and technology, the island of Atlantis becomes the greatest city in Earth's history. Britt becomes rather addicted to the banana-crème Oreo knockoffs, in fact.

    Britt builds a new boat, and leaves Atlantis, but comes back several times. One time he comes back, a generation after his most recent visit, and finds the city's cultural climate much changed. There is a group of Champions defending and promoting the city; and 12 new lords have risen to prominence, including a mysterious and powerful new being known as the Ancient One.

    Britt is walking through the city, still clad in his blue coat and monocle and steampunk hat, when he looks overhead to see two flying beings - one of which is an angel! The angel seems to be aware of Britt's gaze, for he looks down in mid-flight to fix his eyes upon the immortal man. The angel then speaks to his companion, and both fliers descend from the skies to speak to him.

    Britt: Uh... whatever you think I did, I didn't do it!

    The angel's companion - who is a serious-faced man cloaked in black and red - is staring intently at Britt, but the angel has an amused expression on his face.

    High Angel: I suppose you didn't ferry the 12 founders of Atlantis through a monsoon nearly a million years ago then?

    Britt: What? How could you know--?

    The angel laughs.

    High Angel: I was the WriterGod's angel who kept you safe upon that journey. It was my privilege, just as it is my privilege to see you again.

    Britt stares. This angel is glorious in aspect, radiating light and power and strength. Yet he is merely a servant of the WriterGod? The WriterGod acts so mild-mannered, it hardly seems possible.

    Highemperor: You're Britticus!

    Britt: Huh?

    Highemperor: I met you, long ago. Well, for me. In the 1800s.

    Britt: Oh, uh, well, that hasn't happened for me yet.

    Highemperor: Of course. Not every plebeian has access to the wonders of temporal translocation.

    Britt has the vague intuition that he has just been snobbed.

    Britt: Actually, I'll have you know--

    Highemperor: It is fascinating to see you again though... through new eyes. I am so much more than I was then, and now I look at you, and I see power and destiny thrumming in you. Coursing through your veins is...

    Britt: Tea, actually.

    Highemperor: WHAT? No, that can't be-- Of course. The absurdist metaphysical structure of the NeSiverse.

    He scowls.

    Highemperor: Not how I would do it. But then, I'll have the chance to redesign it eventually.

    High Angel rolls his eyes, as if used to hearing his friend proclaim his grandiose goals.

    Britt suddenly becomes aware of a crowd around them. It is not often the two greatest Champions of Atlantis descend to the city streets, and so it is a spectacle to see them speaking to what appears to be an ordinary man, albeit one oddly attired.

    A flying carriage pulled by two alicorns lands, and the crowd parts to give it room. Out of it step a tall man in a dark blue robe and a short young woman in a fine gown of exquisite tailorship.

    High Angel: My lord and lady! What brings you out here?

    Lady Fay: Why should the nobility of our fair kingdom not associate with the commonfolk?

    The lovely and kind young woman smiles benevolently at the crowd, who are all cheering for her. Evidently she is quite popular. Her kindness and beauty are well known, and it is also quite well known that King Stafford courted her once... but she gave her heart to her husband, the Ancient One, who now speaks.

    Ancient One: Highemperor, High Angel, your presence is required. Helebon plots against us, and the three cosmic gods of Time, Fate, and Magic defy the ancient contracts anew.

    Britt: Ancient One...? What, YOU'RE the Ancient Writer?

    The Ancient One's head swivels to look at Britt in surprise.

    Ancient One: How do you know that name?

    Britt: Er...

    Lady Fay: Have a cup of tea, dear.

    The Ancient One accepts a cup of tea from his wife, who is passing out cups of tea to everyone. Britt suddenly notices that she is filling the cups merely by flicking her fingers at them, which magically creates tea in them!

    Britt: You're a tasseomancer?!

    Lady Fay: Why, yes. It is how my bloodink manifested itself.

    Britt: I'm a tasseomancer!

    To demonstrate, he begins filling tea cups as well, and Lady Fay looks quite astonished. The Ancient One looks even more surprised though.

    Ancient One: There is... a connection between us. I can sense it.

    Highemperor: Let me summon my supreme powers of divination to discern the answer!

    He waves his arms about in elaborate gestures, performing his magic. High Angel looks amused by his friend's performance though.

    High Angel: Britt is your descendant, Lady Fay, and my lord Ancient One, from far in your future.

    Britt, the Ancient One, and Lady Fay look in shock at High Angel, but Highemperor looks rather put out at not getting to perform his divination. High Angel shrugs.

    High Angel: WriterGod told me.

    Ancient One: In that case, blood of my blood, you must join us in our war council. Magistarr, the NeSorcerer, is summoning Count Desmond now, who will explain the situation in detail.

    Britt pales.

    Britt: Did you say... Desmond?

    Highemperor looks astutely at Britt.

    Highemperor: If you say my first meeting with you hasn't happened for you yet... how do you know Desmond?

    Britt: It's a looooong story...

    Highemperor: Well, you needn't fear. My power far outstrips his, and I extend the aegis of my protection to you, for as long as you are in Atlantis.

    Britt looks at Highemperor in some consternation.

    Britt: If you know him... if you know what he is like... how can you be friendly with him?

    Highemperor smiles grimly.

    Highemperor: Because he is useful.

    They take Britt with them to the palace, but fortunately Britt manages to escape the upcoming war council by discussing favorite tea varieties with Lady Fay.

    Over the coming months, Britt stays in the palace, acting as sidekick to the Champions of Atlantis, honored guest of the Illuminohqi, advisor to the king Stafford, and Master of Tea Ceremonies as appointed by Lady Fay. He becomes quite a celebrity with the masses when he invents the banana-crème-Oreo-knockoff tea flavor.

    He manages to avoid contact with Count Desmond, unsure of how to deal with him, and fearful. But Highemperor's word is true, and Britt remains untouched. Count Desmond seems not to even notice Britt's presence, as though some kind of mental block has been placed on him... and Britt eventually realizes that's exactly what Highemperor had done.

    He watches Highemperor very closely as well. If he is going to meet him again someday, he'd better be ready. He finds that Highemperor is by turns bitter and manic, but always melodramatic and self-important. The powerplayer receives the attentions of even more women than Britt does, who is himself no slouch in that department.

    Britt: Damn, maybe I should consider powerplaying...

    These are words he utters every so often, but always rejects, seeing what kind of man Highemperor is. Noble, yes... but ambitious and grasping.

    War breaks out when Helebon, steward of Hell, rebels against the WriterGod, and invades Atlantis. Despite being a midget, Helebon is possessed of incalculable power. Angels and demons clash in the skies, and Atlantis marshals all the powers and resources at her disposal.

    Helebon's armies are slowly whittled down, but the archdevil's own personal power is unyielding. In a final push, he seizes the Grand Temple of the WriterGod in the heart of Atlantis. Highemperor hovers up into the air, ready to zoom after the midget archfiend into the temple, but Britt stops him, tugging insistently on his cape.

    Highemperor: What? I must stop him from summoning and fighting the WriterGod.

    Britt remembers the looks of fear that passed over three cosmic gods from eons ago.

    Britt: I don't think the WriterGod needs your help.

    So the Champions of Atlantis and the armies of angels merely watch as within the Grand Temple, flashes of hellfire can be seen, before sputtering out. Nothing else happens.

    Eventually, Britt and Highemperor go into the Temple themselves, and find Helebon, drained of nearly all his power, collapsed unconscious on the floor before the holy altar. For once, even Highemperor looks impressed.

    And so the war ends. It is shortly after that, that Highemperor and High Angel depart the Champions, and Britt takes his leave shortly thereafter. Less than a year after his departure, he hears that Atlantis was destroyed by a gigantic plothole, but he takes comfort in the fact that the Ancient One and Lady Fay at least must have escaped, or the bloodline that would someday result in him would have never been produced.

    More than that, however he mourns the loss of banana-crème Oreo knockoffs, and thereafter feeds his addiction with bananas and banana-flavored tea.
    Quote Originally Posted by Chapter 43, What's Remembered
    Though the 12 men and their wives grandiosely proclaim their 'city' as Atlantis, it never grows beyond a large village. Britt finds himself with a constant craving for bananas whenever he is in the village, and is never sure why. He builds a new boat, and constantly travels back to Atlantis. Although the 12 founders grow old and die, the village remains hearty and reasonable prosperous, but obscure.

    The hereditary council of the 12 founders' descendants is eventually dissolved as the villagers dispute over leadership, and a king is crowned over their village, Stafford the First. Britt is there at his crowning - munching on a banana - and is back during the reign of Stafford the Forty-Second when a mysterious being comes to the village.

    His coming is rather sudden, in fact. Britt is walking through the village to the brothel, when a puff of smoke erupts in his path, and he bumps into a tall man in a dark blue robe.

    Britt: Hey, watch it! You can't just go teleporting into people's way!

    The tall man picks himself up and looks around, confused.

    Ancient One: I... there should be... is this Atlantis?

    Britt: You were expecting maybe Timbuktu?

    The Ancient One shakes his head as if to clear the cobwebs.

    Ancient One: Of course it's Atlantis. For some reason, I thought... but never mind. I have come to found--!

    He stops in the middle of a dramatic declaration, hand raised dramatically to the night sky, confusion furrowing his brow.

    Britt: Er yes, you were saying?

    Ancient One: It was on the tip of my tongue. I had a cool name I was gonna use for them.

    Britt: For who?

    Ancient One: Whom.

    Britt: What?

    Ancient One: It's for whom, not for who.

    Britt: Oh geez, give me a break.

    Ancient One: Hey, I'm a writer, this is what I do.

    Britt looks with some alarm at him.

    Britt: You're not the Ancient Writer, are you? Because--

    Flashes of light herald the arrival of cosmic gods.

    Three Fates: We've been waiting for you, Ancient Writer!

    Runekeeper: Yes, since you're the mouthpiece of the WriterGod, and all, hope you're ready to face us.

    Aeon: And don't think we're total pushovers.

    Ancient One: Well, geez, I just want to write a story on Earth.

    Runekeeper: Oh, is that all? I thought you wanted to write a story across the whole universe or something.

    Ancient One: No, just Earth.

    Britt looks between the cosmic gods, somewhat confused. He seems to remember, millions of years ago, these cosmic gods being very protective of Earth. Calling it the crown jewel of creation or something... right? But even as he struggles to remember, the memories slip away.

    Three Fates: Right, well, Earth is chump change. Fine, you can have Earth, just don't expand out.

    Ancient One: Right. Expand beyond Earth. We don't exactly have sun chariots like Ra, you know... hmm, there's a thought.

    He hurries off, to set quill to parchment, and the cosmic gods look after him.

    Aeon: Odd, I could have sworn, we had some reason to be upset about him... is it just me, or is time a bit a hazy here?

    Three Fates: I don't know about time, but I see lots of cut-off threads of destiny around here. Makes me jittery. Let's jet.

    With that, the three cosmic gods vanish, and Britt is left to shake his head.

    The Ancient One becomes a friend and advisor to the King Stafford, and eventually marries a local girl named Fay, who also happens to be history's first tasseomancer! Fay and Britt become best friends over their common talent and interest therein, but when Magistarr, the court alchemist finds out, he is quite interested.

    Magistarr: Fascinating! I wonder if I could synthesize your abilities with tea potions!

    Fay: Sounds lovely, Magistarr.

    Britt: But, er... wouldn't that just be tea?

    Fay: Britt! Be nice!

    Magistarr: Bah, you sound like the Jade Emperor. He tells me the same thing in our correspondence. But anyway, the coincidence of the world's first two tasseomancers spontaneously forming at the same time in history... is incredible!

    Britt: Well, she might be the first. I'm not. Well maybe I sorta am, since I remember the dinosaurs and she doesn't, but...

    Magistarr: Beg pardon?

    Britt: Blimey, man, I've done told you I'm from the future.

    Magistarr: You did? When?

    Britt: At the royal potluck last week.

    Magistarr: Oh, I think I was busy observing the characteristics of two courting pigeons at the time. If I can convince them to breed properly, I might get mail pigeons to deliver my correspondence to and from the Jade Emperor in faster time than a year!

    Britt: And I told you at the Ancient One and Fay's wedding... and when I saw you at the brothel a couple months ago... and--

    Magistarr: Fine, I get the point already. But if you're both tasseomancers, and you're from the future... I suspect Fay is your ancestor, Britt!

    Britt: Say what.

    Fay: How amazing!

    Magistarr: Of course, I'd need to take a blood sample from each of you to determine the veracity of that hypothesis.

    Britt: You sly codger, you just want some tea-blood for your tea!

    Magistarr: Tea-potions. They're tea-POTIONS!

    And so years pass. Britt continues to stuff his face with bananas and banana-flavored tea, never quite sure why he has this craving. And he often looks up into the sky, as if expecting to see someone descending down to him, before shaking his head and dismissing the ridiculous notion.

    Eventually, Britt leaves the island, and is afterwards sad to hear that it sank in a giant tsunami. But he takes comfort in the fact that Fay and the Ancient One must have escaped, or else they would never produce the bloodline that would once day produce Britticus himself.

    And he never quite shakes the craving for bananas and banana-flavored tea. Almost as though he's craving something else, but he can't quite remember what...
    Last edited by Gebohq; 11-10-2015 at 11:19 AM. Reason: Adding the page summary at the start

  2. #1882
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    In front of the Magium, a very hungover Faust has just accidentally disintegrated the gates of the Magium, center of arcane power on Earth. As mages, apprentices, and stuff come rushing over to see what happened, Faust points a blaming finger at the most convenient scapegoat: Cool Matty.

    Cool Matty: Why you little--

    Before he can continue his rant, a big black hole opens up in the ground beneath him, and Cool Matty falls into it with a surprised yell. The hole closes behind him. Faust looks bemusedly at the spot where his scapegoat used to be, before realizing with a start that now he has no scapegoat.

    Apprentice #1: Master Faust, sir, are you alright?

    Apprentice #2: What happened, sir?

    Faust: Er.....

    Cool Matty, for his part, has landed on blackness with a thud. Grunting, he lifts himself to his feet, to find himself surrounded by blackness everywhere he looks.

    Cool Matty: Why the hell did a plothole open under my feet?!

    Voice: About time! You've been standing outside the Magium for DAYS without casting or getting near a spell. Un-freaking-believable.

    Cool Matty turns to see a very wizardy looking type approach him. Despite there being no light, this wizardy figure is clearly seen. He wears a black robe with a black cloak and black hood over it, and has long black hair and pure black orbs for eyes. Clearly he has a color motif going on. Golden stitching forms the occasional sigil upon the blackness of his attire.

    Cool Matty: Wait... I know who you are. You're the Plot Hole Wizard!

    The Plot Hole Wizard bows, pleased to be recognized.

    Plot Hole Wizard: I am indeed, and have been for 12 thousand years. But I had another name once. I was Magister Starr. Or just Magistarr for short.

    Cool Matty: Any relation to Antestarr?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: He is my distant descendant, yes.

    Cool Matty: Well, I suppose it figures that a member of a hero team that no one has heard of, is descended from a mage that no one has ever heard of.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Oi! I may have only been the village alchemist in Atlantis--

    Cool Matty: In where?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: --but I'm convinced that I should have been more!

    Cool Matty: Right, right. What has this got to do with me? Can you let me out of here?

    He thinks for a moment, and remembers that Faust is waiting to scapegoat him for the destruction of the Magium's gates.

    Cool Matty: On second thought, take your time.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Well, if you want to kill time, we can play poker while we talk.

    Cool Matty: Poker?

    He eyes Magistarr's deck of ancient, exquisitely illustrated tarot cards dubiously.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Indeed. In ancient Atlantis, I was addicted to the game by-- well, I can't quite remember whom, exactly.

    He deals the cards as he continues speaking.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Anyway, I needed you to cast a spell, or a spell to be cast near you, in order to reach you. I can only interact with the world through plot holes at the moment, and spells create them.

    Cool Matty: They do?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Your education has been severely neglected, it seems. Yes. Scientific technology creates effects via a logical cause. Magic however, merely creates an effect without its foregoing cause. Thus, a plothole. Although the narrative theory mages constantly debate whether the spell effect causes the plothole, or whether the plothole is created by the magic to thereby enable the spell effect.

    Cool Matty: Okay, whatever, fine. I'm here now. What did you want?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Because you, my boy, are like me. A living, breathing, walking plothole.

    Cool Matty: Say what?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: You can't tell me you haven't sensed something amiss. There's a reason you can't make yourself leave the Magium, a reason you pace constantly in front of its gates.

    Cool Matty: Yeah, there's something... but I can't remember it!

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: I'm having the same trouble. Not with the Magium, per se... but something I can't remember. There is a plothole centered on me, just as there is one centered on you. But these are no ordinary plotholes. Most plotholes are part of the NeSiverse's normal fabric... like pores on the skin of reality. But what you and I have... are more like wounds. Scars. Reality has been warped and torn away around us.

    Cool Matty considers.

    Cool Matty: That actually makes a strange kind of sense. So... something about me was erased... and so was something about you?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Yes. Leaving plot wounds in their place. I need to go into the wound, see what was lost, and try to restore it... but I cannot enter myself. Thus I needed you, another plot wound, so that we can enter each other.

    Cool Matty: Whoa, wait, is this some kind of come-on? I'm married, and I don't swing that way anyhow.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: While I do swing both ways, I haven't been able to get it up in millennia. I'm so old even Viagra doesn't work anymore. So no, this is not a come-on. Put your hand on my chest and lean forward.

    Cool Matty obeys, and Magistarr likewise puts his own hand on Cool Matty's chest. As they lean forward into each other, suddenly, they are falling through and into each other! There is a timeless moment of falling, side by side, and Cool Matty wonders what he will discover.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Perhaps I should have been famous for tea-potions like I always dreamed!

    Cool Matty: Wouldn't that just be... tea?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Why does EVERYONE say that???

    Then the falling has past, and they are ensconced within the narrative wound. More blackness surrounds them, but gray misty silhouettes surround them. The silhouettes take on greater coherence as Magistarr and Cool Matty survey them, but are still gray shadows with little texture or definition. Gradually, the pair can discern that they are in a city, in a giant and fantastic city.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Atlantis!

    Cool Matty: I remember now - the great lost city!

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: I was never a mere alchemist of an isolated village. I was vizier to the realm, tutor of kings, and...

    He pauses for a moment, struggling to recall the final piece. It is Cool Matty who supplies it.

    Cool Matty: You were the NeSorcerer. The first NeSorcerer.

    Out of the silhouettes of the ancient skyline step a misty transparent shade of Hermes Trismegistus, addressing Cool Matty.

    Twice-Forgotten Memory of Hermes Trismegistus: You are to inherit the mantle of NeSorcery, Cool Matty. It is your destiny. The greatest of them all, the only mage in history to surpass Magistarr himself...

    The vision dissipates, and the two mages stare at each other in wonder.

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: How much reality is lost in this wound? The true Atlantis, the mantle of NeSorcery... what else has been... erased?

    Cool Matty: More importantly... how do we restore it?

    Plot Hole Wizard Magistarr: Through entering this wound, we are here with the erased reality, including the realities of our being the two most powerful mages in history. I say we use these magicks and live up to who we are supposed to be!

    Twice-Forgotten shadows writhe around them, drawn to the decadent realness of the two mages as they begin casting their spells. Magistarr's skill is restored, far beyond that of the simple alchemist he had been reduced to, and he weaves complex castings and rituals. Cool Matty's specialty is fire, but he has learned some from his tutelage at the Magium, and uses his potent flames as fuel for Magistarr's own chants.

    Fire shoots along the mists, transforming the fog of erased reality into flaming silhouettes. The gray and black shadows start bleeding from the silhouettes, and slowly color and texture can be discerned. Sound and scent begin to follow, along with dimension and time.

    Finally the wound collapses around them, and with a sensation not unlike the snapping of a rubber band, if one was surrounded by a thousand rubber bands all snapping away, the restored realities snap back to their proper place and time. All across the universe, Atlantis is remembered as a wonder of the NeSiverse that had been destroyed 12,000 years ago, instead of a village no one had heard of. Iriana is acclaimed celebrity status, being a lost princess of that ancient realm. Merlin's success was due to his being the NeSorcerer of his time, and not (merely) good marketing.

    In front of the Magium, Magistarr and Cool Matty step out of a plot hole before a dumbfounded Faust and shocked wizards. Everyone recognizes Magistarr from the ancient portraits of him, preserved by magic and reproduction down the ages.

    Apprentice #2: My lords!

    Magistarr's pure-black eyes scan the Magium in front of him, and he instantly divines all that is going on within the venerable institution.

    Magistarr: Hermes Trismegistus and Deep are both absent, I see.

    Apprentice #1: Yes, my lord, they are attempting to restore the Earth to its proper place. Master Taliesin and several other master mages are maintaining the illusion of normalcy to keep the populace calm.

    Magistarr shoots a scathing glare at Faust, who is very evidently neglecting his duties as a member of the Magium's head council.

    Faust: Oh, come on! You really don't want me trying to help with that spell. Without my pact-given control, I accidentally shattered these gates!

    He suddenly realizes what he just confessed to, as the eyes of everyone swivel to him.

    Faust: Er, what I mean is, that is to say--

    Magistarr: Enough, drunkard. You have depended on your pact for too long. Today, you begin your apprenticeship under me. I will teach you control.

    Faust: But-- but--

    Magistarr ignores the hungover mage and turns to Cool Matty.

    Magistarr: It would be my honor to teach you, Cool Matty. But I long ago passed on the mantle of NeSorcerer to my apprentice in Atlantis. You must seek out the current NeSorcerer, from whom to receive the mantle of power and authority and knowledge.

    Cool Matty nods. He has finally remembered.

    Cool Matty: Nyneve.
    Last edited by Al Ciao; 08-28-2015 at 04:00 PM.

  3. #1883
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Four

    Britt: The Legend - 44.1

    Many Sleeps later.

    It is May, 1861 and Britt was visiting Bath, England. He walked the length of the pump-room, spotting several distinguished persons of note. But really Bath was for young gentlemen and ladies to parade themselves, dance and live gaily for a few weeks before returning to their true abodes either in the country or in London.

    Britt had come to take possession of an old cottage north of Bath, though still within Somerset. He also owned a townhouse in London but he rarely used it except for business. He was able to wear much of his favourite Discharding outfits, tops hats and long coats in Winter, which pleased him greatly. He had to leave some of his more unusual steampunk gear in his apartments, but he was adamant that he got to smoke on his bronze and wooden pipe, producing it brilliantly coloured smoke. Most considered him eccentric but fascinating and an object of constant curiosity.

    Dorian Gray: "Well, if it isn't Britt."

    Britt: "Dorian. I'm surprised you're still in town! Has the last London brothel finally thrown you out?"

    Dorian Gray: "That'd be the day. Those places are only open by my good graces, I swear."

    Britt: "I can believe it. Dare I ask what creature has caught your eye this evening?"

    Dorian Gray: "Well, there was one darling boy I saw come quivering in earlier, but he was so attached to his mother I thought him still suckling at the teet!"

    Britt: "I'd have thought that would make you long for him more? Mother and all!"

    Dorian Gray tilted his head back and laughed heartily.

    Dorian Gray: "You know me far too well, my friend. If only I could entice you into my chamber, I think my life would be complete."

    Britt: "You're only friends with me because I haven't slept with you."

    Dorian Gray: "Well, that and the fact we share a common... curse. As some would call it."

    Dorian Gray winked at his friend of the last twenty years. Neither of them had aged, unlike the world around them, and both were considered enigmas by those around them. Fortunately Bath's society had such a changing face that it was as forever new and youthful as the two strange gentlemen's. With them being indoors, their hats and coats had been left at the door, and so they wore their black blazers and silk scarves for show. Britt always liked to wear a silver scarf, while Dorian Gray insisted on white.

    Some of the young people in the room have gotten up to dance and Britt was considering which wallflower he ought to select when he is called for by a dashing blonde woman. She is middle-aged but had managed to retain the complexion of youth. She wore a dress of navy blue and white frills, while her blonde hair was tied up into a bunch at the back of her head, then the curls allowed to tumble down. Her skin was especially pale, a coveted colour for the time, and her fan and purse were specially chosen to match her dress. She saved at the two men and the obliged.

    Lottie Simon: "My dear Britt. You and Mr Gray should really come and meet my dear cousin. I'm certain you'll love to hear some of his stories, Britt. I know how you like a good yarn."

    Britt: "Lottie, dear. Must you introduce me to every single person in Bath?"

    Lottie Simon: "Come now, my dear Britt. You know you always enjoy meeting the people I introduce you to!"

    He couldn't deny he usually did. Lottie Simon seemed to have a keen eye for remarkable people. The fact that she was only now introducing him to one of her cousins was especially surprising. He had met Lottie as soon as he had entered Bath, her adding Britt to her list of very interesting people. She was one of the few that actually lived in the city and one of the few that knew he was no ordinary man. She had proceeded down a Victorian horror-like path of discovery to uncover the truth of his longevity and his heritage and their being related. That was when she had been but a girl. Now a woman, married and widowed, she had become mistress of the town and she was one of the most loved and well-connected people in the entire city. She wasn't friends with Dorian Gray, however. She didn't like his roaming in and out of beds. Yet she tolerated him because he was her dear Britt's friend.

    She marched across the pump-room to a table where four people sat. Two men, two women. Both married couples, Britt was certain.

    Lottie Simon: "I'd like to introduce you to my dear cousin Baron Erro Simon and his wife Lady Eleanor. And here are Lord Randolph Churchill and his wife Lady Jeanette Jerome."

    Britt shook the hands of the two men and kissed the hands of the two women. Dorian Gray followed suit.

    Lottie Simon: "And this is my dear friend Baron Britt le Fey and his friend Dorian Gray."

    Britt and Dorian moved to sit and, as they did, Jeanette Jerome Churchill spoke up.

    Lady Churchill: "I've heard your names before. Seems you both have quite a reputation."

    Britt: "All lies I assure you. Unless it's a positive reputation then it's absolutely true."

    Dorian Gray: "In my case, the opposite is true. If it's a bad reputation, it's probably true."

    They all had a good chuckle, but Britt was certain that was actually the truth of the matter.

    Britt: "Sounds like you're not from these parts Lady Churchill."

    Lady Churchill: "I'm from New York, Baron le Fey. Have you ever visited the United States, Sir?"

    Britt: "I have indeed. But the land was quite... different when I last visited. It was a very long time ago."

    Lady Churchill: "Such a long time was it? Seems like Lady Simon isn't the only one blessed with eternal youth!"

    Britt and Lottie Simon smirked in their mutual knowledge of the truth.

    Dorian Gray: "But pray tell, Baron Simon, where your barony might be? I've never heard of a place called Simon before."

    Baron Simon: "It's a small land near Oxford. It's not a place most would notice. I keep my lands fairly free of modernisation. Open fields of green and a copse of woodland is all I need to be happy."

    Lottie Simon: "I a terribly old castle."

    Baron Simon: "Well, I keep it maintained and it serves me well."

    Dorian Gray: "An ancient castle so close to London? Who would have thought such a thing existed!"

    Britt: "It's like someone didn't have the good sense to do a bit of research before plonking the thing there, eh?"

    The Writers' Realm.

    Al Ciao the Writer: "Was I just insulted by your character?"

    Britt the Writer: "I feel the sudden urge to go spelunking! Bye!"

    Al Ciao the Writer: "Innuendo much?"


    Lottie Simon: "It truly is a grand old thing."

    She eyed her cousin, waiting for him to pick up the prompt. He didn't. Fortunately his wife did.

    Eleanor Simon: "You should really visit us sometime! You and Lottie together!"

    Once again he was being forced into some kind of picnic he'd never agreed to but, like all Victorians, he had to smile and nod in thanks for the invitation.

    Dorian Gray: "And how did you all meet, if you don't mind my asking?"

    The two couples glanced suspiciously at each other. So obvious was their sudden reaction, yet instantly smoothed over, it made Britt's hair stand on end. What were his descendants getting themselves into this time?

    Lord Churchill: "Our families have long been acquainted. Why I practically grew up with Erro as boys. And I remember fair Lottie was she was a young woman. We boys used to look up to her as the pinnacle of a woman's beauty. I daresay she was the example we all followed."

    Lottie Simon: "Is that the past tense I hear?"

    She mockingly flirted.

    Lord Churchill: "And if my wife weren't present I'd say she still leads the way as most beauteous woman in all the land! Alas my wife is present and is therefore to be called the most wonderful creature. At least until she departs for the women's toilet. Then I may be more honest."

    Lady Churchill: "And my dear husband shall be sleeping in the dog's kennel tonight, methinks."

    Lord Churchill: "Oh no. I have offended!"

    Everyone had a good chuckle. Jeanette Jerome Churchill was a beautiful woman herself and evidently one for jokes, along with her husband. Britt, however, felt that Lottie was, in many ways, a superior kind of beauty. He wasn't quite sure what it was that he liked about Lottie, but there was something mesmerising in her charms.

    Dorian Gray: "I daresay this table is filled with beauteous men and women. So much as to make other tables positively agasp with envy."

    Britt rolled his eyes while the others of the table were shocked by Dorian's bold proclamation.

    And so time passed. Many weeks in fact. Until Lottie came by his lodgings in Bath and he was reminded of his trip to Castle Simon in the Barony of Simon. He went with her in an open carriage along the roads of Bath. Dorian Gray, whom Britt was sure hadn't been invited specifically by Lady Simon, joined them. Another carriage was then brought up behind them containing Lord and Lady Churchill, who were to join them. Britt was suddenly weary of joining an entourage of people destined for the old castle. Along quiet roads and through small towns. Britt, Dorian and Lottie made idle chitchat though Dorian attempted to flirt profusely with the lady. Despite his devilishly handsome looks and his incredible charm, Dorian wasn't able to win over Lottie Simon. That, Britt considered, to be a first and probably an admirably trait all by itself.

    Britt looked up at the grand old castle as it came into view. It wasn't the biggest or the most grand, but it certainly seemed to be the oldest in England. Moss was growing around the thickest turret and crawled down its walls to the archer-slit windows. The great portcullis looked rusted to the spot and the old moat was thriving with fish, insects and water weeds. The carriages went over the bridge and settled inside the courtyard where Baron Simon greeted his guests. With the Baron was a boy.

    Baron Simon: "This is my son. Erro II."

    Britt: "Only the second? I'm almost surprised he's not the tenth or the fifteenth."

    Baron Simon: "My father was unfortunately named Jopsweedfin. Fortunately my mother refused to allow me to be named so hideously and so I'm Erro."

    Britt: "That does sound like a near brush with humiliation. Thank goodness for us all that your mother had sense. Saying Jopsweedfin every few minutes would have found me irritable to say the least."

    Erro II: "Do you know how to use a sword?"

    Britt looked down at the boy.

    Britt: "Not really. I could attack a tree or two though."

    Dorian Gray: "I, on the other hand, am a master swordsman, my boy. I go duelling every day."

    Britt: "Wrong sword and wrong kind of duelling."

    Dorian Gray: "Oh hush you. Ruin all my fun."

    Britt: "He's a little boy."

    Dorian Gray: "For now. I want to leave a good impression for when he's older!"

    Britt: "His creepy uncle Dorian?"

    Dorian Gray: "Turns me on when you say it like that, dear Britt. Are you sure you don't want to keep me warm this evening?"

    Britt: "I'd rather be mauled by a badger."

    Dorian Gray: "That could probably happen in this dreary place. I'm surprised the sky hasn't opened up with rain just over this castle and this castle alone."

    As they entered a servant took their hats and coats.

    Britt: "Great. I haven't had a good servant in a long time."

    Dorian Gray: "I had one just yesterday."

    He winked at the man. The man, well-versed in his craft, rose an eyebrow but then wandered off with their garments. Another set of men went for their luggage. They were shown first to their rooms to freshen up. When Britt entered he found his room was in the turret and had the unusual pleasure of a circular bedroom. The four-poster bed occupied much of the room, but there was still room for a grand old wardrobe, a writing desk and several other assorted pieces of furniture that complimented the gothic look of the place. He had just changed into his dinner jacket when there was a knock at the door.

    Britt: "You may enter."

    Britt looked up, expecting a servant, but found himself addressed by Lottie. She smiled expectantly at him. Expecting what he couldn't guess.

    Britt: "Quite a mess you've gotten me into this time, Lottie."

    Lottie Simon: "You love the mess, dear Britt. Don't deny that you do. I know it. You always perk up when things aren't going your way."

    Britt: "You mistake perkiness for alertness."

    Lottie Simon grinned and closed the door behind her. She sauntered over to his bed.

    Lottie Simon: "These beds are marvellous, are they not? Quite unlike those modern apartments in Bath."

    Britt: "Indeed."

    She sat on his bed. He found her behaviour unusual. Or rather exceedingly unusual for her. Then she lay back in a most suggestive posture. From other women he might have appreciated her sudden openness. From his descendent, not so much.

    Britt: "What're you doing, Lottie!?"

    She giggled.

    Lottie Simon: "Come now, my dear. Isn't it time we stopped with the distance and settled this once and for all?"

    Britt: "Settled what?"

    Lottie Simon: "I am a widow in want of a husband. You are a bachelor in need of a wife."

    Britt: "I am?"

    Lottie Simon: "You are. And I am just your kind of woman. As you can see."

    She allowed the loosened drape of her dress fall from her shoulder to reveal the pale skin of her bosom. Britt's mouth ran dry.

    Britt: "You're my relation, Lottie..."

    Lottie Simon: "Are you more a relation than my cousin Erro? You know we were set to be married at one time. Our parents had it all arranged in their minds. Then he met his darling Eleanor. If I may marry Erro then why not you?"

    Britt: "Because..."

    She reached up and pulled him down on top of her.

    Lottie Simon: "I would have you marry me, Britt le Fey."

    Britt: "You know le Fey isn't really my name, right?"

    Lottie Simon: "Of course I do. But it sounds good. Now shut up and kiss me."

    After a pleasurably vacation at Castle Simon, Britt and Lottie would later be married. The first time Britt had ever done so. He wasn't sure he was in true love with Lottie but he did care for her and enjoyed her company. She proved to be a corner-piece to his life that he'd always been missing.
    Last edited by TheBritt; 09-01-2015 at 11:59 AM.

  4. #1884
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    The legend continues... in quite an undramatic fashion!

    Quote Originally Posted by Britt the Legend, Chapter 44.2
    It is July 25th, 1879. Britt is awakened by shouting from downstairs at Castle Simon. He buries his head in the pillow next to Lottie, his wife of 18 years, but cannot shut out the noise.

    Britt: Ugh.

    He gets up, sashes on his morning robe, and trudges downstairs. The noises resolve into a dispute between RawHaggis - Erro Simon II's butler - and Dorian Gray.

    RawHaggis: I must simply INSIST that you remove yourself from the premises, sir!

    Dorian Gray: Oh, come now, all this hostility over a few spilled drinks? I daresay your attitude merely stems from... repressed sexual tension. I can help you with that.

    RawHaggis' face is red with anger. Britt has never seen him get so upset with anyone, but Dorian Gray IS admittedly a lot to handle. The main hall is utterly trashed. Clearly Dorian had a party last night. Britt had gone to bed with Lottie, leaving Dorian to nurse a bottle of wine, but the rascally gentleman had apparently invited some of his friends over.

    Britt: Sometimes I think you cause trouble just to spice things up.

    Dorian's face brightens to see his friend.

    Dorian Gray: But of course! Long life can get so dull otherwise... as you well know.

    All three men look much the same as they did 18 years ago. Dorian and Britt because they are immortal, and RawHaggis because he's a butler, and has always looked distinguished and middle-aged.

    Britt: Well, don't give RawHaggis a heart attack. Off with you, I'm sure you can find a brothel still willing to take you in.

    RawHaggis: Quite where you belong, sir, with the other gutter rats.

    Dorian Gray: Oh, married life has made you a bit dull, too, has it, Britt? Perhaps I should bring you a whore to spice up YOUR life?

    Before Britt can retort, Dorian Gray chortles and saunters out.

    RawHaggis: It is not my place to suggest that the master ban him from the premises.

    The butler is clearly sulking, and begins to clean up. Britt rolls his eyes. At that moment however, the front door bursts open, and in come the League of Heroes!

    Catherine Simon: My dear Britt! Come look at little Asa!

    She is cradling a newborn babe in her arms, shocking Britt. He hadn't even known he was pregnant! King Emp sees the look on his face, and grins.

    King Emp: Long story, Britt. I'll tell you later.

    Britt nods, still unsure, after all these years, how he feels about King Emp. He is the spitting image of Highemp, whom he met in Atlantis, and seems to be the same man... his past self. He has not let on that he met King's future self, assuming that that is in fact the same man.

    Erro, the lord of the manor and leader of the League of Heroes, has been playing with his newborn son in Catherine's arms, but suddenly notices the state of the manor.

    Erro: Britt! What did you do to this place?!

    His wife suddenly notices as well.

    Catherine: Oh my! Tell me Dorian's ruffians didn't steal any silver!

    Britt toes the floor nervously.

    Britt: Er, I was asleep the whole time, honestly, I didn't know.

    Sir Tan Lee Chylde: Might I suggest that someone else housesit next time we're away... and Britt can take a turn in the rotation to be out with the League.

    Britt blanches, having had quite his fill of 'adventures'.

    Britt: Er, I'm not certain I--

    Galvenstein: Capital idea! I shall remain behind for the next excursion. As history's first cyborg, my stamina is virtually limitless, and I can keep this place spic and span!

    Admiral Randall: Er... has the phrase 'spic and span' been invented yet?

    Sammy Evil: I don't know, but it's not copyrighted, so who cares?

  5. #1885
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Four Continued

    Britt: The Legend - Chapter 44.3

    1907, Bath.

    Their apartment was lavishly furnished, the bed very large and extremely comfortable. That was top of Britt's demands when he brought his wife back to the springs of Bath. He hoped to see some colour return to her cheeks. While colour didn't return, her spirits seemed to. He ran his fingers down her face. Each line set into her skin was invisible to him. He still saw her young and pretty.

    As he had held her, he had felt her last breath.

    She was then still. Peaceful and quiet. Sleeping forever now.

    He wished he had fallen into Sleep. The chance to avoid this pain would have been welcome. If he had awoken to learn of her death, it would have been easier to deal with. Distance himself from this moment. But he didn't Sleep. She slept.

    The doctor came in solemnly. He checked for her pulse. A formality. They all expected it. Only Britt had clung to the hope that she'd somehow live on and on. He still wasn't sure he felt true love, but whatever he felt now it hurt. Hurt a lot.

    He kissed her lips. Just one last time.

  6. #1886
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Five

    Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Five

    1919, New Zealand.

    Asa Simon: "Welcome to my super secret bunker, Britt old bean."

    Britt removed his cap as he entered the bunker, stepping lightly down the short set of stairs and into the bunker proper. The walls, the stairs, everything was was pasty, fresh coat of cement. Other military officers saluted Britt and Asa as they marched by.

    Britt: "Well, it's certainly pretty, Asa. But I don't see anything special about it."

    Asa Simon, now in his forties, was straight-backed and neat. The military tended to have that effect on men that survived through the Great War. Britt, likewise, had become something greater than his former self. He was sterner, more professional. Perhaps it was just the uniform.

    Asa led Britt through the bunker, introducing Britt to various officers on their way through, until they reached a particular room that Asa led his old friend into. Britt admired the hardware on show. Although aesthetically it all fit with the era, he was sure the technology on the innards was well beyond what he guessed they ought to be using.

    Britt: "You've invented the office space. Congratulations."

    A woman approached the two men and saluted.

    Woman: "Major-General Le Fey, General Simon. Thank you for coming."

    Britt couldn't help but admire the woman's beauty. There was always something about a woman in uniform...

    Asa Simon: "Britt, my daughter Soolian."

    Britt rolled his eyes.

    Britt: "I should have neutered myself."

    Soolian Simon: "Uh... I'm sorry Sir?"

    Asa Simon: "Ignore him. He's getting bitter in his old age."

    Soolian Simon: "... old?"

    Asa Simon: "Captain Simon--"

    She instantly stood to attention.

    Asa Simon: "--Please show us the Spear."

    Soolian Simon: "We're calling it the Rocket, Sir."

    Asa tutted.

    Asa Simon: "The Spear was a perfectly good name for it! Rocket. That's not half as manly."

    Britt: "You built a rocket?"

    Soolian gasped.

    Asa Simon: "Don't worry, dear. He just knows things."

    Behind the computers, shutters retracted to reveal a huge cylindrical room with a large metal shaft pointed at the sky, looming up out of the chamber.

    Britt: "It's a bit small."

    Asa Simon: "That's a big as we could build the bloody thing!"

    Britt: "Why're you wasting money on this anyway? It is a space rocket, right?"

    Soolian Simon: "Indeed it is, Sir! We've already sent it up a few times and done a spot of exploration of the local systems. You'll never guess what we found!"

    Britt: "Aliens."

    Soolian gasped again.

    Britt: "I'm not getting in it."

    Asa Simon: "Why would I get you to go in it?"

    Britt: "Your predecessor made me get into his rocket. Actually he'd be your grandson. Predecessor in my timeline."

    Asa Simon: "I'm going to selectively not hear what you just said because I don't understand what you're blathering about. Again."

    Soolian Simon: "Maybe I should explain what we're up to? This rocket has been armed."

    Britt: "You're kidding me? What for!?"

    Soolian Simon: "To shoot some damn aliens!"

    Britt: "Jupiterians?"

    Soolian Simon: "No. Martians!"

    Britt: "Oh... those Salmitton people..."

    Soolian Simon: "I don't know what a Salmitton is, but the Martians seem to come in a few different races. So maybe Salmitton is a race of Martian. Either way, they're all the same really. They've been attacking us."

    Britt: "I was attacked by one once."

    Soolian Simon: "Really!? I don't remember your name on the list of colonists!"

    Asa Simon: "Move on, Captain."

    Soolian Simon: "Uh... right. Well this rocket is armed with a laser canon!"

    Asa Simon: "You were supposed to call it a crossbolt! I never get my way around these eggheads, Britt. They just do as they bloody please."

    Soolian Simon: "Father, I am not an egghead."

    Asa Simon: "It's fine my dear. I like you being down here. Keeps my little girl safe and sound. Now if you brother were down here, I'd tell him to grow some hair on his chest and act like a man! Science. Women's work."

    The male officers in the room gave sour looks at the General but resumed their work when he glanced in their direction.

    Britt: "So you tried to colonise Mars and the Martians attacked you?"

    Soolian: "Exactly right, Sir! There was a whole patch of the planet unused and it was perfectly habitable by humans. So we started a colony there. At first things went well, we traded with the natives and it seemed all was good! But then some of the groups decided to attack our colony. Burnt it to the ground and killed most of the civilians. Innocent people, Sir. Butchered."

    Britt: "That sounds awful."

    Soolian: "Now it's time for retribution. This is our main attack rocket. That laser I told you about can level an entire building in one. But the natives have aeroplanes to fend off the rocket. So, if you'd care to view the monitor..."

    Britt did as told.

    Britt: "That's... kind of awesome."


    Several months later Britt was flying a sopwith camel (an old World War I plane). Only he was flying it through space. The planes had all attached to the rocket via great "wings" that had been mounted onto the rocket. The large craft ferried the smaller ships through space in a matter of hours, using jump technology bought from a travelling Espa-ñol salesman. The rocket came out of warp above the planet Mars and the planes detached. Around each plane was a forcefield protecting them both from damage and from the vacuum of space. Britt, now transferred to the RAF, guided the rest of his squadron towards the planet's atmosphere.

    Britt: "Twilight Squadron, roll call."

    Twilight Squad Pilot #2: "I thought we were going with Rogue Squadron?"

    Twilight Squad Pilot #3: "We're from an Empire, you berk! We go with an Imperial Squadron name! Uh, not that I know what I'm talking about."

    After the bickering drew to an end, the squadron pilots finally got through their roll call. As the last pilot sounded his name, the planes broke through the atmosphere - the flames rushing wildly against their shield. Britt didn't even feel the heat. When the flames subsided and the clouds passed by, Britt got to look at the landscape below. It looked much like Earth to him, certainly not as exotic as Jupiter. He didn't have much time to admire the scene though. An enemy squadron was soon inbound, likely out on patrol of the skies. There'd be more squads to follow.

    Britt: "Lock S-foils in attack position."

    Surprisingly, the horizontal wings of the sopwith camels then bent to form an X shape on each plane.

    Britt: "Wait for them to get close and use quad fire. Mark your targets well."

    The enemy planes, which looked somewhat more advanced than the traditional sopwith camels ought to be, came in in formation. However they fired early and wildly. Most of their bullets sprayed through open sky. Those that hit merely bounced off of the shield. One bullet pinged off of Britt's shield and he saw it momentarily flash red before his cockpit window. The systems screen in front of his registered the hit to the shield but reported zero damage. As the enemy planes drew closer, their bullets hit more regularly but they were still terrible at aiming. He guessed the pilots weren't terribly experienced in real combat. Unlucky for them because he was.

    Britt: "Fire."

    Red beams of light zipped out from the tips of each wing and struck a single enemy plane. The lasers burnt through the metal in an instant and bored straight through the entire vehicle. The hatch popped and the pilot ejected.

    Britt: "Good for him..."

    He juked his plane down to avoid the carcass of the enemy plane as it began to spiral through the air. It would continue the motion all the way to the ground below.

    Britt checked his systems. Only two enemy planes had survived the onslaught and none of his own squadron had been damaged. A triumphant first contact. He led the team in an arc to pursue the two remaining planes. Though his planes were now more advanced with the Espa-ñol technology, they wouldn't be able to catch up to the two stragglers any time soon.

    Britt: "Jinkies, Probably. Fire torpedoes."

    Two confirms came through and a moment later two balls of hot red fire out from his wingmates and crashed into the escapees. Both planes exploded in flames. Nobody would be ejecting from that.

    He pushed a console button and was shown a map. It wasn't the best of maps as it was based on satellite data from Earth, but it did have a big, yellow, happy face marking their targets. Britt selected the closest target and set a course. The rest of the squadron fell in.

    Britt: "Remember crew, we're to take out all air traffic so that our buddies in Scimitar Squadron can do their bombing runs."

    Jinkies: "Why don't we ever get nice names for our squadrons, huh? Why couldn't we be the Lovely Squadron? I can be Lovely #3."

    Britt rolled his eyes as needless chatter crossed the waves. Not that he minded it. If any enemies were listening in they'd get to also hear the senselessness of it all. Only when the drew close to their target zone did he ask for hush.

    Britt: "Probably, you have the long range scanner. See anything?"

    ProbablyChylde: "Aye, Sir. Over yonder mountain there's a whole nest o' 'em."

    Twilight Squad Pilot #9: "Who let a Scot be our long-range scanner? I can't understand a word she just said."

    ProbablyChylde: "Och! Ye wee sod! I'll give you a bloody good clout when we get back!"

    Laughter filled the radio.

    Britt: "Shut your yap, everyone. We're in-bound. Any sign that they've spotted us yet, Probably?"

    ProbablyChylde: "Nay, Sirrah. None o' the buggers have shifted from their flight path."

    Britt led his squadron ever closer to the mountain, keeping low in an attempt to avoid radar detection. They burst up over the peak, rising high into the sky. No doubt they were noticed now. The enemy planes were suddenly scrambling in all manner of directions, desperately trying to get into formation. He pushed on the yoke and his plane's nose fell downwards. The squadron zoomed down the mountainside.

    Britt: "There's about three squadrons down there. But it shouldn't be a problem for us. They're already panicked. Let's get them running scared. Everyone pick a target and fire a single torpedo. On my mark."

    His sights highlighted a single enemy plane.

    Britt: "Mark."

    Twelve red balls of death streaked out and plummeted towards the enemy gaggle of planes. Explosions were instant. The blasts struck their neighbouring planes and sent them in a whirlwind descent towards the ground. When it was over only eight planes remained.

    Britt: "Break up and finish them off."

    His own wing, consisting of himself, Jinkies and Probably, soared up again. He climbed until he was lined up, then made a quick descent. His target was trying to get in behind one of his fellow wing units and hadn't seen him coming down. Britt linked his lasers and fired in dual bursts. The first round hit the plane's wing and tail. The second set his the carapace. Britt watched the cockpit open and the pilot eject. Unfortunately the parachute hit one of the other planes and it didn't expand properly.

    Britt: "Uh oh... sucks to be that guy..."

    He tried not to empathise. I was easier if the enemies were targets and not people. Quickly he saw all of the enemies disappear from his scanning equipment.

    Britt: "Jinkies, call in the Scimitar Squadron for their run. Twilight Squadron, keep an eye out for incoming enemy vehicles."


    Britt spread his arms.

    Britt: "Welcome to Mars! What do you think of it?"

    Soolian: "It's quite cold."

    Britt: "Further away from the sun."

    They walked around the remains of the colony that had been destroyed by the Martians. There wasn't much left. It appeared that Martian looters had been in and taken whatever was spared by the fires.

    Soolian: "They're clean all this up and replace the buildings. They're talking about a space elevator. This whole Martian colony deal has gotten a lot of people very excited, I can tell you! The Americans are practically baying for our rocket designs."

    Britt: "I think they'll manage with their own designs eventually."

    Soolian: "I imagine so. But tell me, Sir... who are you really?"

    Britt: "What do you mean?"

    Soolian: "You just seem so very... enigmatic."

    Britt: "I've heard that word before and it usually leads to sex. Sorry, Soolian. That uniform is sexy on you but you're my best friend's daughter."

    Soolian: "You're very conceited, aren't you?"

    She held up her hand. A ring.

    Soolian: "I really am just curious about you, Britt. I don't want to sleep with you."

    Britt: "Oops? You can't blame me. Blame my past experiences."

    Soolian: "You still haven't answered my question."

    Britt: "You don't really want to know. It'd spoil the magic."

    Soolian crossed her arms and sulked as Britt walked away. He paused and turned back to her.

    Britt: "You look like your mother, by the way."

    Soolian gasped.

    Soolian: "My m-- how could you possibly know that!?"

    Britt laughed and walked away. The job was done. The war was won, easily and quickly. The natives wouldn't bother the colonists any more and peace would reign.

    Isla de Morte. Losien clenches her eyes at the sudden blinding light that is being shone directly into her face when the blindfold is removed.

    She hears a voice. It's TLTE's voice but with a different accent. An American accent.

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "Alright, punk. Tell us what we wanna know and we might go easy on ya."

    As her eyes adjust she sees two TLTEs.

    TLTE the Good Cop: "What're you doin' on this island and who're you workin' for, kid? Just tell us what you know and we'll let you and your pals walk free. It's not you we want. It's your boss."

    Losien: "I have no idea..."

    She tries to rub her aching head but she realises that she's been cuffed. It all started to come back to her though. The ferry. Crashing it. Being captured along with all of the passengers. They don't know who she is. That's good.

    Losien: "My name's Lucy. Lucy..."

    She glances around the room.

    Losien: "Lamp. Lucy Lamp."

    TLTE the Good Cop: "Okay Miss Lamp. Can we get you a cup of joe? Help get your mind in gear?"

    Losien: "That'd be nice!"

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "Well tough! We ain't givin' ya nothin' until you talk!"

    Losien: "You mean anything."

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "Huh?"

    TLTE the Good Cop: "She's criticising your English."

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "Oh, she is is she? Sounds like we gots a smart alack with us."

    Losien: "Oh no, Sir! I just get told a lot by my ma that I gotta speak real good English when in the company of fine gentlemen such as yourselves."

    Losien stresses her accent. She thinks it's terrible but they seem to buy it.

    TLTE the Good Cop: "So you're a nice mommy's girl are ya, kid?"

    Losien: "I sure am, Sir! I ain't ever wantin' to be trouble to no one! Ma said Jesus likes girls who sit pretty and quiet."

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "Where you from?"

    Losien: "Kansas. This is my first trip all alone. My ma and pa are back home watchin' the farm."

    The two men look at each other and sigh. She had nothing as far as they could tell. Losien gives her best "Dorothy smile". If she was wearing red slippers she'd click their heels.


    Miss Fire glares at her captors.

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "We ain't playin' no games, punk! Tell us ya name!"

    She continues to glare.

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "You think you're tough, huh? Think we can't make ya talk? I can think of a few things that'll loosen those pretty lips..."


    Al Ciao: "Go-go gadget handcuff remover!"

    A bottle of Pepsi springs from his chest and lands on the table.

    TLTE the Good Cop: "Don't mind if I do."

    Al Ciao: "Damnit."


    TLTE the Good Cop: "If you just tell us your name, it'll all be over, Miss."

    Miss Fire continues to glare.

    TLTE the Bad Cop stops tickling her with the feather. Evidently he would need more extreme methods.


    Al Ciao: "Go-go gadget handcuff remover!"

    From a slot on his hand a condom fires out. He looks at it.

    Al Ciao: "Huh. I've never thought of using one of those before."

    The cops fold their arms in disapproval.


    TLTE the Bad Cop presses play on the DVD. Twilight begins to play. After ten minutes, TLTE the Good Cop leaves the room to slit his wrists. Miss Fire continues to glare at TLTE the Bad Cop. He shakes his head in disbelief.

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "What kind of sicko are you, woman!?"


    Al Ciao: "Go-go gadget handcuff remover!"

    A slot on his arm opens and inside is a rolled up parchment. TLTE the Good Cop reaches out and takes it.

    TLTE the Good Cop: "It's a map for the lost treasure of Captain Kidd..."

    Al Ciao: "Why is that even in there!?"


    TLTE the Good Cop waggles a chocolate éclair in front of Miss Fire. He's feeling sick after eating several himself, along with a series of doughnuts and pizzas that he'd tried to tempt her with.

    Miss Fire still glares at him.

    TLTE the Good Cop: "Please... tell me your name... I can't take anymore..."


    Al Ciao: "Go-go gadget handcuff remover!!"

    The same slot that had dispensed the map now opens and inside appears to be a small silver saw just sitting there and waiting to be used.

    Al Ciao glowers at it.

    Al Ciao: "Why!? Why put it there!? I can't use it!!"

    TLTE the Good Cop removes the saw forever from reach. Al Ciao weeps.


    TLTE the Bad Cop has a kitten on the table and holds a hammer up. He steadies himself. TLTE the Good Cop had already left the room in horror. TLTE the Bad Cop slowly lowers the hammer, taking aim. The kitten looks up at Miss Fire with its big eyes.

    Kitten: "Mew?"

    Miss Fire's eye twitches. Weakness!

    TLTE the Bad Cop: "I saw that! I swear I'll do it! I'll cave this stupid cat's brains in! It'll be a bloody massacre unless you give me your God damn name!!!!"


    Her adrenaline boost takes hold and she breaks the handcuffs as though they're made of paper. She leaps over the table and attacks TLTE the Bad Cop with his own hammer, while holding the kitten with her other hand. It takes several TLTEs to restrain her and get her back down to her cell. None dared take the kitten from her though.


    TLTE the Good Cop: "So, Miss Emp. What kind of tea do you call this again?"

    Iriana Emp, entirely free of bondage, is teaching TLTE the Good Cop and TLTE the Fairly Moderate Cop (as TLTE the Bad Cop is now in the morgue) how to brew perfect cups of tea.

    Iriana Emp: "Oolong tea. It's a rich taste, wouldn't you say? But you really should try the Lapsang Souchong. It's my favourite. It's like drinking tea beside a campfire in the forest."


    Later that night, the NeS Heroes have been returned to their individual cells. They're not allowed to communicate with each other and the cells are all in darkness and silence. Moonlight slips through the cell window and its bars, illuminating Losien's room. She tosses in her sleep, unable to get even a moment. She sighs and opens her eyes. She rolls to her side and is suddenly aware that someone else is in the cell. She sits up suddenly with fright. She has to grasp her own mouth to stop herself calling out in shock. Then she sees who it is. She whispers across the room to the seat where he's lounging.

    Losien: "Otter!? How did you get in here!?"

    He languidly turns his head to look at Losien through bleary eyes. Except she doesn't think it's actually The Otter. It's his Potential.

    The Nega: "Well, if it isn't Miss Puss in Boots."

    Losien frowns.

    Losien: "What's that supposed to mean?"

    The Nega laughs at the joke only he gets. He takes a drink from a bottle of vodka.

    Losien: "Are you here to get me out?"

    The Nega: "Why should I do that?"

    Losien: "Why else would you be here?"

    The Nega holds up his bottle.

    The Nega: "To drink!"

    Losien sours.

    Losien: "No thanks."

    The Nega snorts.

    The Nega: "Good. I wasn't offering you any!"

    Losien: "If you're not here to help, then maybe you should just go and entertain yourself elsewhere."

    The Nega: "Like Otter has?"

    Losien: "What does that mean?"

    The Nega: "You guys just left him behind, didn't ya? Just thought, bugger that guy. What use is he?"

    Losien: "That's not what happened."

    The Nega leans over the arm of his chair and points at her with a chuckle.

    The Nega: "And you wonder why he drinks so much."

    Losien: "You're saying it's my fault? He was drinking long before I met him."

    The Nega shrugs and lounges back in his seat.

    The Nega: "Was drinking, is drinking. Why is he still drinking? Why is anyone doing the things they do?"

    Losien: "And what does that mean? You're saying other people are trying to self-destruct too?"

    The Nega: "Maybe it only looks like self-destruction but maybe..."

    He drunkenly points at her again but doesn't clarify.

    Losien: "My fault? You're saying I'm driving people to self-destruct? But who? Otter, maybe. But who else?"

    The Nega shrugs.

    The Nega: "Maybe that's the problem. You don't even see it."

    Losien gives an exasperated sigh. She couldn't see. Or maybe she didn't want to see. She falters.

    The Nega: "Are you happy, honeybunch?"

    Losien: "Not exactly. I'm stuck in a cell with a drunk. A drunk who seems to be getting more sober by the minute. What's with that?"

    The Nega taps his nose and leans over the arm of the chair again to whisper.

    The Nega: "But... who is happy? Are they happy? Are any of them happy?"

    She really wonders at that. She couldn't think of a single teammate that she could point at and call happy. Amal just lost his Potential and his Uncle was responsible after betraying them all. He couldn't possibly be happy. Miss Fire had been on death's door and now needed adrenaline bursts to stay alive. Al Ciao seemed happiest because he has a wife and new daughter, but what of his other children and the fears he now has for his family. His daughter Iriana still hadn't made that connection to her father she craved and maybe never would because she's too old. Her mother was constantly disappointed in her performance and preferred Gebohq to Losien. She'd refused to become Queen of Jupiter, the ultimate disappointment for Polly. Gwenhwyfar was an enigma but happiness seemed a distant emotion the woman probably never experienced. Frank Smith was having trouble with his job, he was having a mid-life crisis and was chasing young men who didn't share his feelings. Subaru's ex-boyfriend was a NeSferatu and wanted to eat her. Evil G had several lifetimes of torment and evil with the only happiness in his life very far away in England. And Tracer... well Tracer was a panda.

    How could everyone be so unhappy?

    Losien: "What sho-- gone..."


    Amal tries to look through the bars of his cell to see if guards are coming. He turns back to The Nega.

    Amal: "What're you doing here? You're going to get caught."

    The Nega smirks and drinks from his bottle.

    The Nega: "Getting caught. Caught doing what, eh?"

    Amal: "What?"

    The Nega: "There's a bit of a thrill to that, isn't there? Doing summat you shouldn't. The chance of getting caught."

    Amal: "I don't do anything like that."

    The Nega: "No. No you don't. You're totally square. Except you'd sleep with the boss if you could, am I right!?"

    He barks with laughter. Amal panics and tries to shush him. But nobody seems to hear anyway.

    The Nega: "I don't blame ya. That strumpet is a right looker. Gorgeous. And really big... brains."

    Amal: "Yes. Yes of course I know she's pretty. Everybody but Losien knows she's pretty. Okay? Is tht what you wanted to hear? I admit that I think Losien is beautiful. Now be quiet."

    The Nega: "Yeah but... she's your uncle's missus."

    Amal: "Was."

    The Nega:
    "Right! So now she's fair game!! Right?"

    Amal doesn't answer.

    The Nega:
    "Or would it still be kind of taboo? She was almost yours a while back, right? If he hadn't come back, it coulda been you with the heroine of the story. You coulda been there, kissing and cuddling while your uncle was away..."

    Amal: "We forget he existed. He was Twice-Forgotten."

    The Nega: "You're right yeah. S'pose. So it woulda been fine if you'd bedded her and then when he came back just shrug like nothin' happened."

    Amal: "That's not. I don't think of Losien that way."

    The Nega: "Sure you don't. You love her, am I right? Big read love hearts and everythin'. Do you think she forgot that tenderness between yous? Think she never wonders? What if yous had done summat while the old man was gone... do you think she'd have gone straight back to him? Or would she have been... you know? Split."

    Amal: "Pointless speculation."

    The Nega: "Woulda been fun though, right? What if he'd caught you making out with her."

    Amal shook his head in disbelief. But The Nega isn't completely wrong. Amal longs for her deeply. Physically and emotionally. But his uncle had been in the way. Maybe even then he could have been with Losien. Maybe she would have left TLTE to be with Amal?

    The Nega: "Then again... maybe she's just in the way? Which would be better, being with the girl of your dreams... or being the man of your dreams? Being the Main Character? You could be. If she wasn't there."

    Amal: "You don't know what you're saying."

    The Nega: "Maybe she'd give it up and let you take over... and then still be your girlfriend?"

    Amal can't help but think of it.

    The Nega: "But what kind of useless lover would you be after she's been with a man like TLTE?"

    Amal growls and turns to yell at Nega to get out but the Potential is already absent.


    Evil G yawns and stretches his arms. The smell of stale booze wafts up his nose. He opens his eyes.

    The Nega: "Nice night for it, eh?"

    The Nega grins.
    Last edited by TheBritt; 09-03-2015 at 10:49 AM.

  7. #1887
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    The legend continues to continue!

    Quote Originally Posted by Britt the Legend, Chapter 46
    Late 1920. The Vatican.

    Pope Benedict XV: I see by your face that you do not believe me, Major-General.

    Britt: I'm a civilian now. And I believe you. I just don't know if I want to be involved in it. I get in plenty of trouble by accident, give me one good reason I should go LOOKING for trouble.

    Pope Benedict XV: Surely the Wandering Jew would seek redemption...?

    Britt rolled his eyes. Ever since Sylvester II had acclaimed him a hero, but not a saint, in A.D. 999, the Vatican had convinced themselves that he was the Wandering Jew of their legends, despite his constant protestations.

    Britt: Look, if I was your immortal Wandering Jew - which I'm not - why would I need redemption? I don't die, so promises of reward in an afterlife don't appeal, you know.

    Pope Benedict XV: I'll let you drive my Popemobile.

    Britt: What?!

    Pope Benedict XV: But only for one night!

    Britt: Sold.

    An hour later, Britt is questioning his decision, despite the awesomeness of the prototype advanced horseless carriage called the Popemobile, as he clears cobwebs during his passage through one of the many ancient crypts beneath the Vatican. Saints, popes, and even monsters are buried down here... and one has been getting restless.

    He turns a corner.


    The ghostly spectre of Saint Neot - patron saint of fish, and originator of the blessed relic the Holy Helmet of Halibut - is right in front of him, moaning spookily. Britt hightails it out of there, and makes his getaway in the Popemobile.

    Pan to Egypt. Early 1921.

    Professor Song Pond: Thank you soooo much for agreeing to escort me on my excavation, Britt.

    Britt: I should really stop letting myself be convinced into dangerous expeditions by pretty women...

    He is leading the drop-dead-gorgeous archaeologist into the depths of an ancient pyramid, holding a torch before him.

    Suddenly a mummy rears up before him!


    He drops the torch and hightails it out of there, never to see Professor Pond again.

    Professor Song Pond: Britt? Britt!

    She sighs.

    Professor Song Pond: Dammit, Matthew, I told you not to play any pranks on him!

    The 'mummy' takes off the bandages from his head to reveal the very much alive face of one of the professor's expedition members.

    Matthew: You worry too much, Song. I've got this. Speaking of which, there's a REAL mummy down this way!

    Pan to Mount Parnassus, Greece, late 1921.

    Mustang Ford: I'm glad you came, Britt.

    Britt: I'm still not sure why I did. You're not pretty, and you don't have a car.

    Mustang Ford: Actually, I do. I call it the Mustangmobile. My apprentices just refer to it as Mustang.

    Britt perks up.

    Mustang Ford: No, you can't drive it.

    Britt deflates.

    Mustang Ford: Anyway, I've been keeping tabs on you since the League split up. Very impressive work. However, this task calls for you personally...

    Britt looks at the undead wizard-lich warily. A twinkle comes into Mustang's eye.

    Mustang Ford: Follow me.

    The lich guides Britt into a recently opened cave beneath Mount Parnassus. Into the depths they go. Their way is lit by Mustang's Cheshire Zippo, whose magical flames dispels all nearby shadows. At the bottom of the cave is a small crypt. On an altar lies a decayed skeleton, with tatters of rags clinging to it. The skull has come free of the spine centuries ago and rolled slightly to come to rest on the corner of the altar, empty eyes gazing at the two visitors who have disturbed its rest.

    Britt: Great. This one isn't going to come to life, is it?

    Mustang Ford: I don't expect so. Still, she clearly wanted you to be here.

    Britt: She...?

    He then sees what Mustang has been looking at. Carved along the side of the altar on which the skeleton lies, are the words, in ancient Greek, "Bring me immortal Britt."

    Mustang Ford: You are looking at the final resting place of the Oracle of Delphi.

    Britt: Whoa! Sibyl...? She was a good friend back in the day!

    He breaks off at Mustang's expression.

    Britt: NO, I didn't sleep with her. Much as I wanted to. She had boobs the size of--

    He breaks off again, and clears his throat.

    Britt: Ahem. Right. She said I would see her again, and I laughed it off. Guess she had the last laugh after all.

    He goes over to the altar and carefully picks up the skull in his hands.

    Mustang Ford: So, she only left this message here, so that her prophecy would be fulfilled???

    Britt: I guess... Doesn't seem like her though. What were you thinking, Sibyl?

    He is addressing the lifeless skull, musing to himself.

    Britt: Why did you want me here?

    A soft blue light glistens within the skull, lighting up its inner recesses.

    Sibyl: To awaken me.


    He drops the skull and hightails it out of there. Fortunately, Mustang catches the skull with a magically telekinetic grasp. Sibyl giggles, a hollow sound emanating from the recesses of her glowing skull.

    Sibyl: He always did scare easy. Except when it mattered of course. Odd family trait... Anyway, he's not needed now; he did his job.

    Mustang Ford: To awaken you?

    Sibyl: Yes. We had a strong bond once, but another immortal stole my heart from him, I'm afraid.

    Mustang Ford: 'Another' immortal...?

    Sibyl: You knew him once. I knew he wouldn't return, so I left my message for Britt instead.

    Mustang Ford: And you are awake. For what purpose?

    Sibyl: Now you must etch runes onto the surface of my skull, and take me to MI6. They will use me as a resource at first, seeking to exploit my knowledge, but my knowledge is always available. Eventually they will realize my value, and I will administrate most of Hero Force's doings, to safeguard the world.

    Mustang Ford: Hero Force? Is that some kind of modern version of the League? I've never heard of it.

    Sibyl: Right. I forget not everyone knows future things. Yes, Hero Force. Now is the critical juncture, when the nations of the world come together for a brief time in Woodrow Wilson's League... but already they are drifting apart. It will not be for more than two more decades the nations truly unite... but we will have lost two decades of progress.

    Mustang Ford: You want to take advantage of the temporary unity to forge a Hero Force now...

    Sibyl: Yes.

    Mustang Ford: But who shall be the heroes? I'm a bit past adventuring age myself.

    Sibyl: The first hero of the Force hasn't been born yet. And he will be birthed in an American laboratory...

  8. #1888
    Tea-sipper, character-killer


    Britt: The Legend - Chapter 47

    Early 1922 Britt was back before the Pope, looking quite glum.

    Pope Benedict XV: "Britt... you owe me. I mean, you owe the Church!"

    Britt: "There were ghosts! Ghost... but a really scary one!"

    Pope Benedict XV: "You still owe me! After you ran away from said ghost you went joyriding in the Popemobile."

    Britt: "I was on my way back here with it."

    Pope Benedict XV: "For two months."

    Britt: "I... look the scenic route?"

    Pope Benedict XV: "And 'parked' it in a tree."

    Britt: "Too late to admit I never passed my driver's exam?"

    Pope Benedict XV: "There's no such thing as a driver's exam! Now get down there and do the job!"

    Britt: "But... the ghosts!"

    Pope Benedict XV: "Here. I had my expert Popes create this ghost busting weapon."

    Britt accepted the proton pack with googly eyes of awe. However unlike the traditional proton pack of science, this one fires holy beams of destruction.

    Britt: "I have suddenly found my courage."

    Pope Benedict XV: "Unfortunately there's a condition to using this weapon."

    Britt: "I don't like the sound of that."

    Pope Benedict XV: "You have to be ordained."

    Britt: "..."

    Pope Benedict XV: "You'll be an official priest of the Catholic Church."

    Britt: "You know I'm totally atheist right? Well, sort of. I believe in Zeus and the Mount Olympus lot, but that's because Zeus totally helped me out once. I mean like, he just came down and was there. I mean, your God never did that so..."

    Pope Benedict XV: "Do you want the bloody weapon or not?"

    Britt: "Um... okay! Zeus won't mind. Besides, it's not like I worship the guy. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I get into so much trouble."

    Pope Benedict XV: "Right. I hereby ordain you as a Priest. Now go and bust ghosts."

    Britt: "What? Just like that I'm a Priest? I thought there's be a long-drawn out ceremony filled with pompous pratts throwing incense at me."

    Pope Benedict XV: "Normally there is. But I'm afraid you'd worm your way out of it if given half the chance. So it's done. Now. You are a priest. Go!"

    Britt: "Fine, fine. Man you're narky when you skip breakfast, you know that?"

    Britt went back down into the catacombs of the Vatican, armed with his holy weapon of holiness. As soon as the menacing ghost appeared Britt unleashed holy fury upon it. A beam of cold, white light speared from the nozzle and split a hole in the ghost. It yelled out a moment before exploding in ectoplasm and ghost fish. Britt winced from the rancid smell of long-dead fish. He blew the smoke from his holy gun and returned it to the holster on the pack.

    Where the ghost had been haunting, Britt found the sacred Helmut of Halibut. He popped it into his bag o' loot, which he'd remembered to bring with him, and stashed it with the rest of the booty he'd pilfered throughout the centuries.

    Britt: "And now onto find the Helmut of Halliburton!! It'll allow me to shoot oil at people. Maybe I could stack the two helmuts ontop of my head... then I could fire oily fish at people!! Or fish oil... maybe that's too gross..."


    June 1940, a secret bunker in the Brest, hidden from the German occupation. Soolian Simon was checking monitoring stations when a message popped up on her computer making comments about them all being in a place with an incredibly exciting name. This half of Poland was under Russian rule since Russia and Germany jointly attacked the poor country. Soolian's secret team was installed there just before it fell and had remained there to this day, keeping tabs on both the Russians and the Germans.

    Suddenly an alarm goes off. She checks her systems to see who accidentally elbowed the switch this time. General Britt le Fey. She frowned. He was out on patrol somewhere, probably in a German pub on the other side of the Polish border - challenging everyone to a beer drinking game. And losing.

    The doors of the bunker slid open and Britt ran inside.

    Britt: "They're coming!"

    Soolian: "What!? Who!?"

    Britt: "The Germans! Gerry's coming!"

    Soolian: "They're supposed to be focusing their efforts on Britain. There's no one else left to fight them. Why would they come this way? Towards Russia?"

    Britt started packing his things, and everyone else followed suit.

    Britt: "Well, you know those beer drinking contests I always lose?"

    Soolian groaned.

    Britt: "I actually won one. And it turned out to be one of the German generals. He got pissed and started chasing me over the border and into breasts."

    Soolian: "Look up."

    Britt: "What? What was I saying?"

    Soolian: "Br... Germans. Coming this way."

    Britt: "Oh yeah. So now they've basically declared war on Russia."

    Soolian: "Because you won a beer drinking contest?"

    Britt put on his trench coat and slung his bag over his shoulder.

    Britt: "That's about right. Everybody ready to get out of here? Good."

    Soolian packed her own bags. Fortunately she had managed to keep the men of the station away from her bras, else they'd have stuck them to the front of the secret base with "Welcome to Breast" written on a sign.

    Soon enough the secret soldier-spies were outside and they all split into small groups of three. Britt was, naturally, with two women. Soolian and none-other-than his former wingmate, Probably Chylde. The three of them went slinking off, just as the sounds of battle began. Knowing the Russian defensive positions, they were able to avoid danger from that side but they had no idea where the Germans were likely to be.

    Soolian: "You know, you may have inadvertently saved Great Britain, Britt?"

    Britt: "Yeah. Now the Germans will be fighting on two front instead of just ours. Good plan, right?"

    Soolian: "You mean you did it on purpose!?"

    Britt: "...maybe. Which answer gets me kissed and which gets me punched?"

    Probably: "There's someone up ahead."

    The three of them threw themselves down to the ground, crawled up to a discarded wheelbarrow and peep over it like three little meerkat heads. There they see a small troop of Nazi soldiers. They had a truck that was parked up outside of a house and several lamps set up to give off some light. They were probably there for the night and were setting up camp. Their leader, just on the edge of the light, was a tall blonde man. However he was more than man. He was a cyber-man! His arm was replaced with what looked like a green painted cannon and his legs had been replaced with tracks. The enemy leader rolled to the back of the truck and dragged a body from it. The man who was thrown to the ground appeared to be a prisoner, arms bound behind him. Roughly the Nazi leant over, grabbed the collar of the prisoner and dragged him towards his house.

    Britt: "Now they've gone, we should get out of here. Maybe we could steal that truck."

    Probably: "We should save that guy!"

    Both Britt and Soolian stare at their companion.

    Probably: "He's obviously on our side! Sirs."

    Britt: "We could sit here and argue with Probably until she storms in there anyway. Or we just give in now and rescue the guy."

    Soolian groaned. She was less and less impressed with the people she met. But at least she was never bored.

    The three of them tip-toed towards the house. They avoided the front door, where two Nazis were on guard and three more were smoking. They snuck around the house and found an open window. Probably went first, Britt second and Soolian last. The room was in utter darkness but fortunately empty. They left their bags in that room and went off to look for the stairs. They went up. Some of the Nazis had to be sleeping already. They'd be easy and silent kills...

    A few murders later they met up at the top of the stairs. Britt was clean but Soolian had gotten some blood on the sleeves of her coat. She'd have to wash that out if she wanted to go back undercover. Probably walked over to them.

    Britt: "What... the Hell?"

    She was covered in blood.

    "What did you do?"

    Probably: "Things got a bit out of control. Not my fault."

    Soolian: "Let's just save this guy. We shouldn't have much more trouble with all these ones out of commission."

    Britt: "Except for the Terminator."

    Soolian: "Don't call him that! That makes him sound so..."

    Britt: "Like he's going to terminate us?"

    Soolian: "Exactly."

    They went back downstairs, one by one. They stopped at the bottom and peeked out from around the wall - somehow looking like meerkats again. They filed out. One Nazi was looking at the ornaments on the walls. They took him out quickly and silently. They got to the main door and noticed that only the two guards were there. Probably and Soolian whipped out their knives and went for the throat while Britt went into the next room. At the centre, the man was bound to a chair. He appeared to be a young man, dark hair and leathery skin that looked too worn for his youth. Britt now got his knife out and went to cut the man's bonds.

    "Not bad, tovarish. The three of you moved about with hardly a sound. But there will be no need for that knife..."

    He revealed he'd already freed his hand. He then clicked his hand back into place. Britt tried not to squeal with horror.

    Prisoner: "I heard you muttering upstairs, however. You should keep your petty banter for after you've killed everyone. Unless you are making sly quips when someone dies. Then it is acceptable."

    Suddenly the sound of gunfire resounded outside.

    Prisoner: "It seems your friends have come under duress. You shouldn't let women do what men should."

    Britt: "Evidently you've never met either of these particular women."

    The two men ran to the door and looked out. They ducked back inside just as a hail of bullets stormed the door. Bullets and wooden splinters went in all directions.

    Britt: "Jesus blood Christ! That's a machine gun! Mounted to his bloody arm!"

    The prisoner just chuckled.

    Prisoner: "What will they think of next?"

    He held out his hand.

    Prisoner: "Arm me?"

    Britt tossed him a pistol from his belt. The Russian fired sporadically, not looking out. Then they heard other gunshots. Soolian or Probably were probably (heh) trying to give them covering fire. Britt didn't fancy jumping out there to advantage just in case the Nazi Terminator still had his Gatling gun primed on the doorway.

    Prisoner: "You keep up the cover fire from here. I'll find a new vantage point."

    Britt shrugged and started to fire out of cover. He dared glance. Not for long. He pulled back as bullets slammed into the door frame again. Britt edged away from the entrance and watched the frame get torn to shreds. The bookcase that had been sitting by the door was gone and pieces of paper were fluttering through the air. The bullets stopped and then he heard him speak, almost sing-song.

    Nazi Terminator: "Come out, come out, little mouse."

    The wheels ground as he moved outside the door. Firing from the women had stopped too and Britt guessed they were hiding out or also finding another vantage point.

    Nazi Terminator: "What are you, little mouse? English? Russian? Polish?"

    His voice was growing nearer. Britt, as quietly as he could, changed the magazine of his pistol. A quick splash of tea to the face and a single shot. That'd do the trick. Right?

    Nazi Terminator: "The thing about mouses, mein freund. They get caught... in traps."

    Britt turned suddenly, the voice breathing down his neck. A second door must have let the machine man in. His body took up most of the small corridor, his tracks ground against the walls as he moved. Britt staggered backwards and scrambled to the end of the corridor. The Nazi Terminator grinned manically and slowly rolled towards him.

    Nazi Terminator: "Come now, little mouse. Tell me your secrets and I'll let you live. There's no escape now."

    He reached the open door and ground over the rubble. Suddenly there's a shadow at the door as something dropped from the second floor.

    A sword flashed.

    Prisoner: "Don't get so ahead of yourself, Nemetskiy."

    The Nazi Terminator's hat slipped from his head. Then his head slipped from his body.

    The prisoner's head poked around the broken door frame.

    Prisoner: "See what I mean about quips?"

    Britt got up and dusted down his old coat with a sardonic expression.

    Britt: "Yes. You're very punny."

    Prisoner: "You're women friends..."

    Britt rushed out.

    Britt: "Soolian? Probably? Where are you?"

    A hand poked up from behind a large rock. When Britt came around it he saw blood. This time not on Probably.

    Probably: "She was hit."

    Probably was holding her own jacket against Soolian's wounds. Two bullets lay on the floor where Probably had evidently dug her fingers inside to get them out.

    Britt pushed the jacket aside for a moment and poured hot tea over the wound. Soolian complained, but it would clean the wound a little. He put the jacket back.

    Probably: "We can't stay here, Britt. What do we do?"

    Britt ran off. A moment later he was back with the wheelbarrow. They lumped her into it and Britt began to drag Soolian along. The Prisoner stopped them.

    Prisoner: "Allow me. My way of repaying you for your help."

    The Prisoner took over wheelbarrow duty and they continued on, away from the house of carnage.

    Prisoner: "I am T14TE, moy drug."

    Britt: "That's... an unusual name."

    T14TE: "It's an abbreviation for The Fourteenth True Evil."

    Britt: "True Evil? You seem awfully nice for someone who is truly evil..."

    T14TE: "Nice? I have been called many things, tovarish. But nice has never been one of them. True Evil is simply a title. Passed down mentor to student. So no worries, Khorosho?"

    Britt: "Weird title to inherit, but okay. I won't judge. You've helped me out so you're a friend as far as I'm concerned."


    Several months later Britt returned his cap to his head. Only a few people stood around the grave and fewer still remained to watch the soil being thrown onto Soolian's casket. He'd lost yet another of his best friends.

    Britt: "I'm sorry I didn't protect her well enough, Sir."

    Asa Simon, now in his fifties, sighs.

    Asa: "I'm retired, remember? Besides, you got to be General as well didn't you?"

    Britt: "You shouldn't be so casual with me, Asa. I've let you down this time."

    Asa: "Britt, you of all people should know - most of us don't get to die in the arms of our friends. She had that. So I'm grateful."

    Britt felt even worse. He had actually hoped to be berated. It would be easier.

    Asa: "And now I have another favour to ask you..."

    Britt frowned and looked at the old man questioningly.

    Asa: "She asked you to act as her son's godfather, didn't she?"

    Britt: "You know, she never even told me her husband died in the Battle of France..."

    Asa: "I want you to take the boy to the U.S.A."

    Britt spluttered.

    Britt: "Are you being serious?"

    Asa: "I am. I'm going to tell the boy that I'm his father. There are enough orphans in this war as it is. But I'm going to be much too old to actually look after him. And I want him well away from this war. That America... it's a new world out there, you know? Land of opportunities they tell me."

    Britt: "Seemed just like everywhere else last time I was over there."

    Asa: "Well, I've already arranged everything with your friend, Mrs Chylde. She intends to retire from service and head over there. She'll raise the boy as her own. I just want you to make sure they get there safely. And maybe stick around for a few months. Make sure they settle in. I'll visit whenever I can, but mostly I'll send him letters and money. Make sure he's not left wanting."

    Britt: "I think you're going to a lot of trouble, Asa. It'd be simpler to just stick with the truth and let him live here in England."

    Asa: "If there's much of England left after the war's over?"

    Britt: "..."

    Asa: "I think he'll grow up to be a fine man in the Americas. A trendsetter. A hero. Just like his mother."

    Britt: "And his grandfather."

    Asa: "I hope so. But the misery of being bombed night and day isn't going to give rise to the hope for a brighter future, is it?"

    Britt: "Alright, alright. It's your choice, not mine. Just have it on record I think it's a stupid choice."

    Asa: "Mrs Chylde and her family are already waiting for you, my friend. And this time I really am entrusting you with the safety of my family."

    Britt nodded. He owed it to Soolian to take her of her boy, at least for a few months.

    Britt: "I'm going. You're paying for my ticket though."

    Asa laughed as Britt headed off.

    Asa: "The boy's name is Ohqeanos, by the way!"

    Britt stopped still.

    Britt: "No freaking way!"


    The Nest, Iowa, the outskirts of Iowa City. Baby Ohqeanos is swaddled in Britt's arms.

    Britt: "You are going to grow up to be... an ugly little wretch. I tell you that now."

    Probably: "Och, don't say that to the poor boy!"

    Britt: "I don't speak in truths. Don't I? Eh? Yes I do. Yes I do! You... are going to be... sooooooo ugly! Yes he is! Yes he iiis~~!"

    Probably took Ohqeanos from Britt.

    Probaby: "Don't listen to your mean godfather. He's just jealous because he's not as adorable as you are."

    Britt: "That's okay. Because I'm devilishly handsome."

    Probably: "How could any woman resist such charms?"

    Britt: "Hey. I can be charming when I want to be! There was this dragon once--"

    Lee Child: "It happened. America's in the war now."

    Britt sighed, hearing Probably's husband. So there was no escaping it. Lee Child, who had "Americanised" their old British name, read about the attack on Pearl Harbour. They agreed that perhaps it was a good thing. Britain and Russia had been doing a fine job against Germany, with a new party involved maybe it was just a matter of time for Germany, Japan and Italy to capitulate.

    Probably: "I'll be glad when all this warring is over. No more blood for me."

    Britt: "I think you had a little too much of it already."

    Probably: "You do what you have to. And then some. Luckily my babies won't have to go off to fight any more wars once this one's over. We already had the War to End All Wars. Now we had a second. Can't be much fight left in them Germans after this."

    Britt: "There's always a war, Probably. But not everyone has to go off to fight them. Do they, Ugly? You're going to be a good little boy, aren't you? Be nice to your new mummy and daddy while I'm gone. You'll see me again one day."

    Britt bade his farewells and stepped out of the farm house. It was newly built, funded by Asa Simon himself. Britt wandered around it for a moment then pressed his time travel card.

    Card: "Invalid selection."

    Britt: "Huh?"

    Card: "This card is valid only for Earth. The TEA's jurisdiction--"

    Britt: "Alright, alright. Blah blah blah. Dammit. How am I supposed to get back up there now?"



    Prime: "There they go. Off to Jupiter. Off to end this Cold War. God's speed."

    Britt: "Thanks. But actually it took forever and we missed our stop."

    Everyone in the launch bay leapt to their feet in horror.

    Britt: "Kind of weird showing up just after I'd left..."

    Prime: "You don't say!"

    Romanov: "How did you arrive here?"

    Prime, the main researcher into Britt and his lineage, was a rotund fellow with a beard - suitable for those that researched the occult. His pipe fell from his mouth. Romanov was a much younger man and far too twitchy to be healthy.

    Britt: "Time travel."

    Britt removed his badge.

    Britt: "Okay. Current mission. Attach this thing to a rocket. Then I can use the time machine to go through time and help Polly and Ohqeanos get hitched and get your Cold War."

    Prime: "B-but where are they?"

    Britt: "Jupiter."

    "That's where they're supposed to be. Where you're supposed to be acting as intermediary. You know they're not going to trust a word Ohqeanos says..."

    Britt: "Yeah... that's why I need to get back there. That and they're stuck in 1400 and something."

    Prime: "The century!?"

    Britt: "No. They're stuck in your IBM over there."

    Prime: "Ah. A 1400 IBM series computer joke. Because everybody loves those jokes."

    Britt: "Hey, you need to feed me better lines if you want better jokes."

    Romanov: "Can I see the card?"

    Romanov stared at it like it was God's gift. Actually it's probably way cooler than any gift God would give them.

    Britt: "Let's me travel through time."

    Romanov: "So if I... what? Push it?"

    Britt: "Don't--!"

    Romanov pushed it. Fortunately the card went through its error sequence. After almost wetting themselves because of the card's in-built prank, Britt snatched the card from Romanov.

    Britt: "You, miladdie, are banned from touching my things from now on."

    Romanov glumly nodded.

    Britt: "Okay. Are we focused and on task? You need to get this done as soon as possible."

    Prime: "Why? If it's a time machine you can go back to anytime."

    Britt: "If you want them to come back to their own time then you have to hurry. I can't very well bring them back here while I'm still here with the time card, can I? Well I could but a sexy future woman will come and shout at me for being in the same time as myself. Or something like that."

    Romanov: "Sounds nice actually."

    Britt: "To be fair, I kind do kind of like it. But she might actually put me in prison this time. And I don't mean a sexy prison scene with her. I mean an actual prison with hairy men. Hairy time travelling men."


    Later the same night, Britt was now in a small bedroom allocated to his use. He put his bag of swag on the bed and had a rummage through it. He drew out a golden goblet. Then he remembered it was the Holy Chalice of TP and if used it would suddenly cover the whole building in toilet paper. He didn't think anyone would appreciate the gag around here so he put it back and came up with a different cup. He had no idea what the cup did but it was supposedly blessed by five virgin maids. He poured tea into it and slowly sipped as he wondered how exactly they blessed a cup...


    Thousands of years ago five maids pee into a cup.

    Maid #1: "There's your blessing! Dirty bunch of perverts!"

    The priests all mull around awkwardly.


    Then there was a sound above him. He looked up to see the grate of a ventilation shaft come lose. He watched, mildly interested, as two legs appeared. They wiggled. Then the man dropped to the ground. Suddenly he turned around, becoming aware of Britt's presence.

    Britt: "Yo."

    T14TE: "Aha! So the information is correct. You are here, moy drug. And looking just as young as ever."

    Britt: "Aye. Bit of a surprise to see you in here though. I heard that Russia and the U.S. aren't exactly... best of friends."

    T14TE: "This is true. I'm here on an ultra secret mission. I was hoping to find you, but I did not expect it to be so quickly. I think you could help me on this mission."

    Britt: "You know I'm sort of working with the guys here so..."

    T14TE: "So, you have joined the Americans, have you?"

    Britt: "Uh... well I wouldn't go that far."

    T14TE: "Do not trust the lies they tell, tovarish. These capitalists wish to line their own pockets and make wars wherever they can."

    Britt: "They did just send a guy to space to stop a war, you know?"

    T14TE: "The individuals do not represent the whole view. You should know this. They are already working on plans for a top secret project that would allow them to weaponise the very moon."

    Britt: "Like... a Death Moon!"

    T14TE: "Da. Only it would probably sound much cooler than that."

    "Right. So you're saying the U.S. is secretly evil and that Russia are good guys?"

    "Da. But also I will ask for your help for old time's sake. We are friends, remember?"

    Britt: "I suppose. What did you have in mind?"

    T14TE: "I just need to extract one of Russia's operatives. A scientist. He is working as a double-agent right now. The Americans believe he is theirs, but in fact he will come back and tell us all he knows of this... Death Moon as you say."

    Britt: "Well... as long as nobody dies. Okay? I like these guys. They gave me this nice white jacket. Cool right?"

    "Indeed. Perhaps I should steal one on my way out. And I'm glad you decided to help me, tovarish. Otherwise I would have had to kill you."

    Britt: "Gee... thanks. Friend..."

    T14TE: "You know how it is in the spy world, moy drug. I am surprised you turned down that offer to join MI5."

    Britt: "How'd you know about that?"

    T14TE: "I work now for KGB."

    Britt: "Well, between you and me... I turned down MI5 so I could join MI6."

    T14TE: "You see what I have to work with? How many KGB agents and they couldn't even work that out? Lucky your MI6 clearly employs the best, da?"

    Britt: "I honestly think they only hired me because M fancied me."

    T14TE: "M is currently a lady?"

    Britt: "That she is."

    The two finished their idle chit-chat and took to the halls. T14TE was wearing a nice, but plain suit with no garish fashion statements. His bow-tie was navy blue, the suit was black and his shirt was also black. His hair was slicked over to the side and though he was aged, he had aged well and, if anything, seemed all the more handsome for it.

    They turned a corner. A random science dude waved at Britt.

    Science Dude #1:
    "Hey Britt. Good to see you around again. Heard about the time travelling thing. Pretty epic stuff. Hey Britt's friend. Anyway, catch you later."

    When he was gone, both breathed a sigh of relief.

    Britt: "That was easier than expected."

    T14TE: "Da. I thought I was going to have to disappoint you and nail the man's head to the wall."

    They went further into the base. They passed a few other science dudes who either didn't look at them or else just waved and smiled. Finally they reached the hole that the Hulk had smashed oh-so-long-ago for our current Britt. Yesterday for everyone else.

    Romanov: "Britt. What're yo-- AH!"

    Britt: "Romanov's your guy? Seriously? Of everyone in this base, I least expected you, Romanov."

    T14TE: "But he is... Russian. Of course it is him!"

    Britt: "I just thought that was too easy, you know? Like, of course it's him... but that just means it's really not him and it's someone I'd least expect!"

    T14TE: "Da, monimayu. That was part of his cover. Clever, right?"

    Britt: "Very."

    "Comrade Romanov. We leave now."

    Romanov nodded. He picked up a bunch of research files he had on his desk and followed the other two through the complex. Romanov seemed nervous.

    Romanov: "I expected more dead bodies..."

    T14TE: "Fortunately not. Britt has proven a useful companion. You should relax, Comrade, or else people will think there's a problem."

    Britt: "I think he's normally twitchy so I don't think it'd matter."

    He turned back to Romanov.

    Britt: "How are they doing with my time machine?"

    Romanov: "They estimate five years."

    "Five--!! Are you kidding me? Maybe I should time travel five years into the future."

    Romanov: "I think they'd need your card to attach it to the ship..."

    Britt: "Good point. I hope Ohqeanos and Polly don't mind losing five years of their lives!"

    Romanov: "I can't speak for the Jupiterian, but the American will likely not mind at all. He seemed unhappy with his life as it is. He was a disappointment to his father and his adoptive parents passed away not long ago, I believe. He's lived a complicated life. His adoptive parents were very anti-war. All that... hippy movement. Something like that. His true father, who only ever communicated by post, was quite the opposite. A true war hero. He expected Ohqeanos to be America's true champion or something. Very strange indeed."

    T14TE: "Anti-war. Pah! In Russia war antis you."

    Britt: "Does that make any sense?"

    Britt decided he'd probably have to have a chat with Ohqeanos when they next met. But for now they were exiting the complex.

    T14TE: "Here I will steal this vehicle."

    Romanov: "No no. Use this one. I have the keys."

    They climbed into a seemingly inconspicuous jeep and Romanov handed the keys to T14TE. The car started off and they drove towards the gate.

    Romanov: "They won't let us out. Not even me. Probably not even Britt. Push the big red button."

    T14TE pushed the button. The rear of the jeep suddenly transformed into two twin jet engines.

    Britt: "What in the name of..."

    The jeep whizzed through the gates and sent men jumping for cover. All three inside the vehicle were pinned to their seats. The jeep continued along until Romanov, with all his might, leaned over and pushed the red button again. Britt expected it to stop. It didn't. It just grew wings! The car-plane took off into the sky. Britt could almost hear a cool jazz jingle play as they did so.

    T14TE: "Onwards to Mother Russia!"

    Britt: "You know, you forgot to drop me off!"

    T14TE: "No, tovarish! Like Comrade Romanov said - you have five years to wait! You may as well come and see my homeland! Maybe give up a few secrets, da? The KGB will be most pleased."

    Britt: "This friendship is starting to sound very one-way."

    T14TE: "I am showing you my home! I can't think of a better sign of friendship than that!"


    Britt walked into Romanov's new laboratory. It turned out that Romanov had been deliberately sabotaging the development of America's super soldier by overdoing their current subject, which Britt had been calling Hulk, with the serum. Britt explained that the Hulk was calming down and becoming more normal last time he saw the guy. Romanov expected as much and believed it was time to hurry Russia's own super soldier project.

    While the U.S.A. and its capitalist ideals were all about the individual becoming a success, Russia and Communism was about unification. All are equal under communist rule. And so instead of an individual being who could take on many, they would make many who could take on the one. Britt stared at what appeared to be T14TE.

    Britt: "So is this T15TE?"

    Romanov: "No. That's a title earned."

    Britt: "Right... he does look like him though. A lot."

    Romanov: "This one was bred in a vat. He hatched this way. His higher brain functions are limited, making him pliable for my research."

    Britt: "So you're insinuating that some of them are... born?"

    Romanov: "That's right. Born and raised by us. Or created as men. Straight out of the tube. If they are born and raised, we find that they perform better. But this is obviously a slow process. Better to hatch the vast majority."

    Britt: "Not sure if I like all this cloning stuff. Unless you had cloned a very attractive lady... then I think I'd be very interested..."

    Romanov laughed a breathy chuckle.

    Romanov: "I'm sorry if my experiments don't appease your sexual fantasies."

    Britt noticed that Romanov was engrossed in his computer work and Britt pressed a button on the pin of his jacker. Snapshot. Having first been to Russia and interrogated, they then decided to take Britt to Romanov's secret research centre in the Himalayas. China had turned communist and the USSR had helped them purge the Japanese from their lands. Thus indebted, Romanov was permitted his base up on the Chinese side of the illustrious mountain range. Far away from everything and everyone. The Russians believed they'd gotten quite a prize with Britt and he was fairly cooperative with them, especially when it came to American endeavours. However he'd been slipping information back to MI6 since he'd arrived. Often humming his own cunning theme song when he did his work.

    Romanov: "That tune you often hum is very catchy."

    Britt: "Deeeerp! I know right!? I should sell it and make a mint."

    Romanov hammered at a bolt on the machine.

    Britt: "So what do you call these guys?"

    Romanov: "Well, I thought I would use that title of our Comrade. But they cannot be the next in the line. So, if it works, there will be no more True Evils anyway. Our Comrade will live on, through his clones. He would be the only True Evil. The very Last True Evil. So that is what they are. The Last True Evil."

    Britt: "And T14TE would be The Original Last True Evil then."

    Romanov: "Quite! Able to command all of his clones with the sheer force of his charisma."

    Britt came to the TLTE and looked into its eyes. It was aware and awake but unflinching. Like a zombie. Britt removed his pin, held it up and posed with the TLTE. Selfie!

    The TLTE moved. Britt jumped back.

    It reached for a where a gun should be.

    Britt: "Fuq nuggets."

    TLTE: "Death to spies."

    Romanov: "What?"

    Britt threw a wad of tea at Romanov. Despite everything he was up to, Britt couldn't kill the man. The clone, on the other hand, was shot with the silenced pistol he had stuffed in his white jacket. He ran from the laboratory and started to dash down the corridor on his own escape mission. A figure stepped round the corner. Another TLTE. Britt fired and struck the clone through the forehead. He jumped over the toppling body just as alarms blared out. Fortunately Britt had spent the past three years in the base and knew even the most secret of areas. He knocked on a false wall and it swung open. He was through and outside in an instant. He started to run. There were no vehicles here except for those that arrived on Tuesday to ferry people to and from. Unfortunately it was Thursday.

    The Himalayas. Ice and snow. Cold and more cold. He kept going. At least he'd have plenty of tea to drink. But there was shouting from behind him. He didn't glance back. Some shots fired but Britt knew he was too far away now to be hit by them. He started up. He'd need to get over the mountain to reach the other side, the Indian side. India might no longer be part of the British Empire, but there was plenty of Britishness still left to be a save haven to any MI6 spy on the run from Russian clones.

    The cold gripped him, but the tea in his blood kept him warm from within. He sneezed. He was going to be sick for days after this. Suddenly a mound of snow burst open. A secret hatch!

    The Original Last True Evil: "Moy drug! I almost missed you!"

    Britt: "Bollocks."

    OLTE: "I find myself disappointed. I thought we were friends."

    Britt: "Who's to say we're not still? I didn't do anything you weren't doing. You got information from me, I got information from you."

    "This is true! This is true. Perhaps if you come with me now, this... misunderstanding can be forgotten? Khorosho?"

    Britt smiled a forced and unconvinced smile.

    Britt: "I have a feeling I won't like where you want to take me."

    OLTE: "Then I guess our friendship truly is at an end."

    He pulled a katana from the sheath on his back and finished climbing up from the hatch.

    "I never did tell you how sorry I was about your friend, tovarish. She was beautiful."

    Britt: "A bit late for that."

    OLTE: "Maybe not too late to tell you I killed her. You left her with me and while she lay there I put my hands inside her wound, opened it up and finished her off."

    Britt: "Wha- what? Why!?"

    OLTE: "She was never going to make the journey. I put her out of her misery."

    Britt: "You're lying."

    OLTE laughed a little amused laugh.

    OLTE: "Da. I am. I killed her because... why not? She was an easy victim to add to my ever-growing list. And I was keen to extend that list then. I was young. Can you blame me?"

    Britt: "Why tell me now?"

    OLTE: "As I just said. Why not? It is over now, you may as well know now. At the end."

    Britt: "I know you well enough. I can't get you with my gun. I have sword like you do..."

    OLTE: "Exactly. Nothing you can do."

    Britt: "I have my tea."

    OLTE: "I can take a burn, tovarish. I am not afraid of your tea."

    Britt: "Maybe my tea alone wouldn't stop you. Maybe. But... it's very cold up here."

    OLTE: "... yes it is."

    Britt smiled darkly.

    OLTE: "Wait. No!"

    He was about to raise his sword when the cold tea struck him. Like a waterfall it tumbled down and froze in the cold, cold air of the Himalayas within a few seconds. He managed to stagger a few steps before the tea began to become ice. Britt continued to pour it on until he was encased in a solid block.

    Britt approached the block and tapped it.

    Britt: "You were cold-hearted after all."

    He laughed.

    Britt: "I hope that one was punny enough for you... tovarish."

    Britt then left. He slammed the hatch shut as he went and never looked back. He didn't stop until he had climbed back down and reached the vibrant sights and sounds of India.


    Two years later.

    Britt: "I'm back!"

    Britt was ushered back into the American base and shown to Prime.

    Prime: "You're alive!"

    Britt: "Yes! And my rocket should be ready!"

    Prime: "It's been ready the past five years."

    Britt: "What!? But Romanov... said that... it... bollocks."

    Prime showed Britt the inside of the rocket. It was more spacious than the last one, at least. Britt found his time travel licence - sticky-taped to the inside of the cockpit.

    Britt: "You're kidding me?"

    Prime: "Nope. It should work just fine."

    Britt sighed, sat down and strapped in.

    Prime: "Good luck, my friend."

    Britt glanced back and nodded to Prime as he left the rocket.

    Britt: "Time travel in... five... four... three... two... one... zap!"

    He pushed the licence and activated the rocket. The rocket lurched upwards and then time warped across the window until the launch bay was gone and only space remained. He checked the licence. It was the right year. In fact he was early, giving him plenty of time to get the rocket all the way to Jupiter and arrive at Rosslefot's house, just after he'd left with Chronos.

    Britt the Writer: "I think... I'm going to die..."

    Gebohq the Writer: "There there, monkey. You take a rest."

    He checks his watch.

    Gebohq the Writer: "Rest over!!!"

    He cracks the whip.

  9. #1889
    Tea-sipper, character-killer


    Britt: The Legend - Chapter 48.1

    Britt, now in orbit around the Earth circa 1555, his rocket started its way towards Jupiter. Eventually it broke through the thick milky clouds that circulate the planet's upper atmosphere and descended down towards the location Britt knew housed Rosslefot's house. His rocket came screaming down through the sky and he realised the thing was supposed to land arse-end down, not nose first. Britt exploded in a string of panicked expletives that all suddenly stop when his rocket also suddenly stopped. A sudden jarring motion caused him to rock in his chair. Always wear seatbelts, kids! Having avoided being splattered against the windscreen Britt stared out at a very large, yellow eye.

    Lady Dragon: "Oh! It's you again!!"

    Britt: "Ah..."


    Britt managed to get himself out of the rocket and after some awkward explanations he managed to untangle himself from conversation with the dragon lady. He told her she could keep the rocket. He got to the cliff where he recalled being atop it with the others. Twice. After some more bartering, the dragon agreed to lift him up and put him atop of the cliff. There he said goodbye to her and started on his way towards Rosslefot's home. Just before he reached it he heard a lot sound. He looked up to see the dragon riding the rocket like a bucking broncho off into space. He scratched his head.

    Britt: "Not something you see everyday."

    Polly: "Britt!"

    He turned. It was a short while for them, but for him it had been... he couldn't even count that much. He ran to them and first hugged Polly and then he hugged Ohqeanos.

    Britt: "I'm sorry for being so selfish. That's what I've learned."

    Ohqeanos: "Uh... congratulations?"

    Britt: "No back chat from you, mister. You're not too old to go over my knee again!"

    Ohqeanos: "... what? Again?"

    Britt: "Alright. I saved the real Queen so Polly, you're free of your duties here in 1555."

    Nostradamus: "What Britt means to say is that he's travelled through time while we were gone and he's just shown up again now. He's sorry for selfishly abandoning you both and for bringing you to this time in the first place. He's happy to be your ambassador from Earth and will do his best to make sure things go smoothly."

    Britt: "Wow... impressive but you could have missed out the abandoning part."

    Nostradamus: "It adds flavour to the summary. Don't spoil it."

    Britt: "You're not writing my book."

    Nostradamus: "What makes you think I want to!"

    Britt: "I saw it!"

    "Ah. That means you have no choice unless you wish to invoke Chronos' anger again."

    Ohqeanos: "Who?"

    Britt: "Doesn't matter. Let's just go inside."

    Britt peeked through the window. He wasn't inside. Only Rosslefot, The Hulk and Ptetra were inside. Britt burst the door open, hoping for a grand and magnificent entrance.

    Petra clasped her hands together.

    Ptetra: "You're back! I knew you would!"

    Britt rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten the crazy Jupiter Queen had tried to molest him atop of the cliff top and wanted him to be her eternal husband.

    Britt: "No time for conversation, Princess!"

    Ptetra: "Queen."

    Britt: "We have to go BACK--!"

    Ohqeanos: "Don't say it."

    Britt: "--TO THE FUTURE!!!"

    Nostradamus: "Do you realise how many times that joke has been used already?"

    Britt: "Quiet you two. Time for a wedding!"

    Polly: "Well, I like this proactive attitude in you, Britt. Maybe you did learn something!"

    Britt: "I learnt many, many things. Especially I learnt I love these... oreo things. I have no idea why."

    Polly: "Not what I thought would be at the top of your list of important things."

    Britt set the date on Rosslefot's machine.

    Ohqeanos: "Not 1962?"

    Britt: "Uh... no. I was in 1962 trying to get a rocket to time travel. They took five years to do it."

    Nostradamus: "While you were playing spy games, you mean?"

    Britt: "Stop telling people stuff!"

    Polly: "Spy games? Sounds intriguing!"

    Nostradamus: "You'd probably enjoy reading about his exploits in war more. Particularly what he gets up to with Soolian Simon."

    Polly: "Another woman!!? I mean... a woman!"

    Ohqeanos: "Simon? Who's Soolian Simon?"

    All of the silliness was suddenly plunged into a cold bath for Britt and he hesitated. He looked at Ohqeanos seriously.

    Britt: "I'll tell you when you're older."

    Ohqeanos: "What?"

    Britt: "But now we gotta go!"

    Ptetra: "Wait! You can't leave! We're to get married!"

    Polly: "What!? Another woman!? I mean... not that I care."

    Britt: "I'm sorry, Ptetra, but we're really not compatible. I'm not husband material. Not again..."

    Polly: "Again!?"

    Britt: "I wish you'd stop that. You're about to get married to my godson!"

    Ohqeanos: "You're my godfather!?"

    Britt: "Probably never told you?"

    Ohqeanos: "She said my godfather was a.... time traveller and immortal guy that saved her during the Second World War..."

    Britt nodded matter-of-factly.

    Ohqeanos: "I always thought it was just the drugs that sent her round the bend..."

    Ptetra: "You are not going anywhere."

    The Queen grabbed Britt's arm.

    Britt: "Don't make me splash tea in your face, lady."

    Rosslefot: "I do hope that's not a euphemism. We'll have none of that in here, thank you very much."

    Ptetra: "I won't let you go. You belong to me!"

    The room suddenly went dark and the atmosphere grew thin.

    Britt: "Looks like you've been dabbling in some of that dark magic your mother practiced..."

    Ptetra smiled sweetly, yet through a veil of sinister evil.

    Ptetra: "That idiot Salmitton didn't even know who he was really working for."

    Nostradamus: "Speaking of which..."

    The window suddenly crashed as a red streak burst in, his light-sabre like weapon drawn and ready for use.

    Decline: "You won't escape me this time!"

    Ptetra hid behind Britt. Decline leapt at him.

    Polly: "Bugger this!"

    She slammed the time travel button and the whole room shook. Faded. Then they appeared again in the same house. Except the house looked old and abandoned. Britt looked down at himself where he'd seen a light-sabre inbound moments ago. Nothing there. No injury. He sighed with relief. He looked up at Polly, Ohqeanos and Hulk. And Nostradamus.

    Britt: "What the buggery are you doing here?"

    Nostradamus: "I was programmed in at the last moment. Thankfully because I wouldn't want to see what happens in that room after we vamoosh."

    They all look at him expectantly.

    Nostradamus: "Okay, alright. Decline stabbed Ptera with his glowing sword."

    Britt: "Ah. Makes sense."

    Nostradamus: "She then exploded."


    Nostradamus: "All that pent up dark magic, you see. It burnt Decline to a crisp. Fortunately, old Rosslefot had the good sense to hide behind a rather large couch."

    Britt: "Lucky blighter."

    Nostradamus: "Ptetra, so wounded, should have died but her magic kept her going. She was crippled though. Became one of the most evil queens in Jupiterian history. Queen of Terror, she became known."

    Polly: "Oh my! I had no idea that was the Queen of Terror! She looked so... pleasant!"

    Nostradamus: "I guess leaking dark magic constantly will change your appearance."

    Britt: "And you got all that from reading my book?"

    Nostradamus: "Yes. In your book I said all those things, so I'm repeating them now."

    Britt: "So it doesn't actually say what happened, you're just reading your own lines!?"

    Polly: "Book?"

    Britt: "Yes! The sod's a fraud. He's just reading a book to know what's going to happen!"

    Nostradamus: "Ah. I should have remembered this would come up..."

    Britt: "We'll talk about that later. And I'll be taking you back to Earth later too. Once these two get hitched."

    Polly looked at Ohqeanos with something close to affection rising within her.

    Britt: "And we have to do it quick. It's now 1969 and the moon landing is going to happen."

    Ohqeanos: "They're going to land on the moon? That's great! We started a base on Mars but... that was awful. All those poor Martians... I wish I had been around to protest! Probably would have been the first in line to shout abuse at those genocidal soldiers that took part in that war."

    Britt: "Uh... you things are never so black and white, Ohqeanos? Heh... but yes! Genocide! It's not the moon landing that's important - it's what they're going to land on the moon! A super mega death ray! Their superweapon! It'll wipe out Jupiter in an instant."

    Polly: "Would they ever fire such a thing!?"

    Ohqeanos: "They blew up Japan. And they slaughtered Martians. I'd say it's not outside the realm of possibility, Polly."

    Britt: "The alliance between Earth and Jupiter needs to happen. Now. Let's get you two to your capital and get married and save the day!"

    NSP: I left it here so that Gebohq the Writer can do the stuff he wanted to do. I thought I'd get it all set up for you.

  10. #1890

    Britt the Legend - Chapter Forty-Eight Some More

    Within the prison cells on Isla de Morte, Evil G looks at the bottle of booze The Nega holds.

    Evil G: "So are you going to offer me any?"

    The Nega laughs in drunken glee and hands the bottle to Evil G, who takes a mighty swig before passing it back.

    The Nega: "I like your style!"

    Evil G: "And I like a guy who gives me a free drink."

    The Nega: "Most people have the sense to turn down anything my mouth has touched."

    Evil G: "Sense is over-rated. I prefer having drinking buddies."

    The Nega guffaws and slaps Evil G on the back.

    The Nega: "Not a care in the world! That's a life to live by!"

    Evil G: "Especially if you live an evil one, eh?"

    The Nega: "Yes, do as you please! World about to come to an end? Go down laughin', I say!"

    Evil G: "Just have a good time while the clock's ticking!"

    The Nega: "Never have to worry about a wife complainin' or a babe cryin' ever again!"

    Evil G suddenly falls sober, and faces away from The Nega.

    The Nega: "Watch all your friends and family die all over again! 'cept nobody to Answer to this time around, so you got that goin' fer ya!"

    Evil G: "I got to take a piss now. You mind?"

    The Nega: "You get shy when you gotta go in front of other guys or somethin'?"

    Evil G: "I could piss on you, if you'd like."

    The Nega: "Hahaha--"

    He interrupts his own laughing with a swig to finish off his bottle, tossing it aside and letting it shatter.

    The Nega: "--hahaha! I s'pose I shouldn't waste any more time. Not like you got--uhhhhh--Potential anymore anyway. Not like you don't already know what a joke this all is anyway. Nothin' I can say that's any worse than what you already know about The End, things none of your fffffffffriends really know just how hopeless it all is--"

    Evil G: "Don't you have any more of them to bother?"

    The Nega: "Right. Piss off, then!"

    Evil G turns around, only to find The Nega gone. He exhales loudly and falls onto the floor, attempting to control his heavy breathing.

    Britt the Legend - Chapter Forty-Eight Some More

    Britt, Ohqeanos, Polly, and Nostradamus rush to the gates of the Royal Palace in the capital of the Jupiterian Empire, Fu-guru, which also housed the Empire's military control center named the Polydodecahedron (though too many people complained that they couldn't remember it, so it was often simply referred to as the 120-Cell), the Jovian Parliament (where nothing got done), and the galactic fast food chain's founding restaurant of Ptoppy's Poppers. On this day, July 20th 1969 by Earth's time, the night sky above rained with neon, with a heavy meteor shower lighting up the sky.

    A royal palace guard stops the four as they approach the gate.

    Royal Palace Guard: "Halt!"

    Polly: "You must let us in at once! I'm to be wed to this human here to secure a truce between Jupiter and Earth!"

    For emphasis, she pulls Ohqeanos to her side.

    Royal Palace Guard: "Princess Ptolly?! You're alive! The court must know about this immediately!"

    Polly: "No time for that! The more we delay, the more we risk mutually-assured destruction with the Earth. We must be wed at once!"

    Royal Palace Guard: "I...I'm sorry, Princess, but that's no longer possible."

    Polly: "Explain yourself! And quickly!"

    Royal Palace Guard: "Well, you see, after you disappeared seven years ago, and nobody could find you, the idea of the wedding as a truce had been called off. Tensions between Jupiter and Earth have risen, and Earth is about to secure the final piece of their M.A.M.M.O.R.Y. to use against Jupiter. We're about to make the pre-emptive strike against them before they have the chance."

    Britt: "Mammory?"

    Royal Palace Guard: "Mega-Awesome Moon Mass Obliterator RaY."

    Britt: "That's not even a real acronym!"

    Royal Palace Guard: "I don't pretend to understand humans."

    Polly: "We have to stop them! Guard, escort us!"

    The guard salutes and joins the four as they jump into a Jupiterian jeep and race over to the 120-Cell.

    Britt: "I'm hungry. Can we get something to eat?"

    Ohqeanos: "Two planets, one of them our home, is about to be destroyed, and you're thinking about food at a time like this?"

    Britt: "I'm told Ptoppy's Poppers has the best shakes in the galaxy."

    Ohqeanos: "Shakes? I love shakes!"

    Polly: "We don't have time for shakes!"

    Britt and Ohqeanos gives Polly puppy-dog eyes.

    Polly: "No!"

    Nostradamus joins them.

    Polly: "You too?"

    The Royal Palace Guard joins as well.

    Polly: No, and that's final!"


    Britt, Ohqeanos, Polly, Nostradamus, and the Royal Palace Guard burst into the 120-Cell War Room, holding bags of Ptoppy's Poppers and cups of shakes in their hands. One of the many generals turns around. He looks an awful lot like Captain Crunch.

    General Seriol: "What's the meaning of this? Who let these people in here?"

    Polly: "You have to stop what you're doing right now! Contact the heads of Earth and let us talk to them. We can still negotiate a truce!"

    General Seriol: "Princess Ptolly! I don't know the meaning of this, but you must be sent to the Royal Court immediately--"

    Ohqeanos: "Please, sir, hear her out. I can speak to the people of Earth."

    General Seriol: "Is that a human? A saboteur in our midst! Arrest him!"

    Polly: "No!"

    She rushes in front of Ohqeanos as other military officers approach him with drawn weapons.

    Britt: "Hey hey hey! Calm down, everyone! You guys still have days to work with here--"

    General Seriol: "Hours."

    Britt: "--plenty of hours to still launch your strike."

    He moves to the general's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder that holds a shake.

    Britt: "Have your men stand down, call up an Earth leader, and let these two try diplomacy. If they succeed, Jupiter avoids Doomsday."

    Nostradamus: "For at least a solid thirty years."

    Polly: "What?"

    Nostradamus: "Nothing."

    Britt: "And if they fail, at least your Empire stands on the high ground, and still have many, many minutes to make your strike. So many minutes! Whaddaya say?"

    He shakes the cup in his hand for the general to see.

    Britt: "You can have some of my shaaaake...."

    For emphasis, Britt shakes the cup some more.

    General Seriol: "Colonel, contact the first Earth leader you can get a hold of."

    The general takes Britt's shake and sips from it, while Polly and Ohqeanos hug in excitement before collecting themselves and politely standing a short distance from each other. Many of the advanced holo-projected screens display live feeds of Earth, Apollo 11, and the Moon with the M.A.M.M.O.R.Y visibly pointing away from Earth. On the largest screen, Pierre Trudeau, the prime minister of Canada, appears.

    Pierre Trudeau: "Oh my! On behalf of Canada and the People of Earth, I, Pierre Trudeau, am honored to be ambassador for--"

    Ohqeanos: "With all due respect, General, I would call someone else."

    Pierre Trudeau: "--did you just say--now hold on--oh fiddlesticks--"

    The screen changes to static for a moment before a new image appears, showing Richard Nixon, President of the United States of America.

    Richard Nixon: "This is the President of the United States--ah, greetings General. Calling to talk the terms of surrender?"

    General Seriol nearly explodes when Britt holds him back with his remaining Poppers.

    Britt: "Mr. President, we're calling to talk about a truce."

    Richard Nixon: "And who are you? Are you... one of us?"

    Britt: "Yes, and I'm hear with the man who was to marry the Jupiterian princess and forge an alliance, Ohqeanos Simon."

    He motions Ohqeanos to step up, and Ohqeanos nervously does so, waving sheepishly.

    Ohqeanos: "Hello, sir. I apologize for the delay, but we're here now. We don't have to go to war."

    Richard Nixon: "The wedding was called off years ago, Simon. Those aliens you're with right now are about to wipe out the human race because they don't believe in human decency and democracy. They never will. They only understand force, and we have to show them we mean business. If we're going down, we're taking them with us, and you better believe the rest of the universe will remember the human race then!"

    Ohqeanos: "Too many of us think peace is impossible. Too many think it is unreal. But that is a dangerous, defeatist belief. It leads to the conclusion that war is inevitable, that mankind is doomed, that we are gripped by forces we cannot control. We need not accept that view. Our problems are manmade; therefore, they can be solved by man. And man can be as big as he wants. No problem of human destiny is beyond human beings!"

    Everyone stands stunned at Ohqeanos's words. Polly stares at Ohqeanos with admiration. Even President Nixon gives pause to think.

    Richard Nixon: "That was a nice speech, kid. Wise words from President Kennedy. But I'm afraid that's hippie talk these days. Operation M.A.M.M.O.R.Y. continues as planned. I'd get off that planet if I were you."

    Ohqeanos: "Wait!"

    The screen goes black. Ohqeanos stands stunned.

    General Seriol: "Alright, men! Apollo 11's is landing as we speak. We have minutes before they fire that super-ray and destroy Jupiter. Have the capital ships fire the omegarmageddon warheads ASAP, evacuate the Royal Court to Alpha Centauri--"

    Polly: "We must be able to disarm the Earth weapon..."

    Ohqeanos remains standing in place as the War Room turns into chaos, with Polly, Britt, and Nostradamus attempting to wrestle for control of the launch orders. On the screens, Earth's moon death ray begins to charge up, while Jupiter's mightiest missiles hurl from the capital ships towards Earth. Mutual annihilation is certain.

    Just then, the room darkens, and everything but Ohqeanos halts to a standstill. From a darkened shadow, The Negotiator appears and walks to Ohqeanos's side. They look at each other.

    Ohqeanos: "Wha...what do you want?"

    The Negotiator: "I want what you want, Mr. Simon. An end to this war."

    Ohqeanos: "And... you can make that happen?"

    The Negotiator: "In return for something. I only have as much power as can be agreed upon in a deal."

    Ohqeanos: "I want you to stop this war. Forever."

    The Negotiator: "Well well well, that's quite a tall order, Mr. Simon... I'll need something quite important from you in return, to balance things out."

    Ohqeanos: "I, uh, don't own any planets of my own."

    The Negotiator: "Nothing so literal of a balance, Mr. Simon, just something that would be as important to you as the world. Something, incidentally, that will be as important to the world..."

    A sinister smile spreads across the face of the Negotiator.

    The Negotiator: "...your children."

    Ohqeanos: "M-my children? But I don't have any children."

    The Negotiator: "Oh, not now, but you will. You'll be a hero to the human race, marry the beautiful love of your life -- a princess, of course -- and live the rest of your life in fame and fortune unmatched by any human for all of history. All I ask for is that your children will be mine."

    Ohqeanos: ""

    The Negotiator balks.

    The Negotiator: "I don't believe you understand. It's your children or the human race."

    Ohqeanos: "Take me instead. Have whatever fame and fortune be given to someone else. Leave whatever children I have out of it."

    The Negotiator: "I'm afraid your life is not worth nearly the same as two worlds, at least not to you. Only your children will hold the same weight for you."

    Ohqeanos: "You'll have to get through me, first!"

    He stands defiant, though his shaking body betrays his feelings. The Negotiator raises an eyebrow.

    The Negotiator: "Is that so?"

    He eyes Ohqeanos up and down.

    The Negotiator: "I will avert this war. The Sleeper will have his hand slip and hit the right button, and the two worlds' weapons will fizzle. He will be heralded as a legendary hero. You will marry that woman there and settle in obscurity. She will give birth to your children. At which point, they will be safe... until you die."

    Ohqeanos swallows in fear.

    The Negotiator: "You may not know this, but you can only die if you choose to die. Rather annoying, if you ask me. You are far from invincible, mind you, quite the opposite. And unlike The Sleeper, you will still age. And once your children are born, I will make sure that every moment of your life is a nightmare that to which you will wish for death. You will be bed-ridden in a hospital, never watching your children have their first walk or say their first words. And when you finally embrace death, then your children will be mine."

    The demon holds a hand up to Ohqeanos.

    The Negotiator: "Do we have a deal?"

    Ohqeanos stares at the ground, as if staring into his own grave. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists. He looks up and locks eyes with the Negotiator, gripping the Negotiator's hand hard with his own.

    Ohqeanos: "Deal."

    He pulls the Negotiator close to himself.

    Ohqeanos: "You will never have them."

    A wicked smile spreads across The Negotiator's face as he pulls away and back into the shadows.

    The Negotiator: "We'll see..."

  11. #1891
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    In the basement of one of the buildings on the Isla de la Morte, a man with crazy Christopher-Lloyd-as-Doc hair and wearing a lab coat throws a lever and cackles. Lightning snaps along wires, energizing a focusing rod mounted atop a giant cylindrical incubator, and a form begins coalescing within the blue bubbling fluid inside the tube.

    TLTE The Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALLLLLIIIIIIVE!

    In moments, with sparks flying everywhere, the form within the tube has fully incubated. The blue fluid drains out, the glass pops open, and a newly hatched TLTE clone steps out, dripping.

    Newly Hatched TLTE: кто я?

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Why, you're The Last True Evil the Professional Unicyclist!

    TLTE The Professional Unicyclist: Da, of course!

    He immediately grabs a spare unicycle and pedals out of the lab. TLTE - the real TLTE - passes him and strides into the laboratory, just as TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist threw the switch again, cackling once more.

    TLTE The Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALLLIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!

    TLTE winces at the yell. He's been hearing it echo distantly for the last several blocks every few minutes. He watches as TLTE the Terrible Poker Player is hatched and goes off to incur outrageous gambling debts within an hour of his hatching. TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist catches sight of him and waves.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Hail, my friend! If my eyes do not deceive me, it is TLTE the Really a Beta Clone in Disguise!

    TLTE: Da, tovarish. I have come to requisition a new clone.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: But of course! Any template you can imagine! We have a laboratory - full of monkeys hammering on typewriters connected to heuristic cognitive simulators - constantly pumping out identity templates!

    TLTE: I would like... TLTE the Gullible Beta Clone.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist inputs some programs on his computer then flips the switch, crowing as before.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALLIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!

    TLTE: I am curious, tovarish. Do you never get tired of that?

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist shoots him a quizzical expression.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Tired of what?

    TLTE: Nevermind.

    TLTE the Gullible Beta Clone emerges from the incubator, blinking fluid out of his eyes. TLTE guides him aside.

    TLTE: Quick! Our facility has been compromised, we must verify the loyalty of everyone here. What's the password!

    TLTE the Gullible Beta Clone: Oh, heavens! Well, the password is-- Er, it's...

    TLTE belatedly realizes that beta clones aren't hatched already knowing the password.

    TLTE: You are compromised. Goodbye.

    TLTE the Gullible Beta Clone: No, wait, please--

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist's gleeful cackling drowns out the gunshot and subsequent death scream. TLTE emerges from the alcove as the newly hatched TLTE the Napoleon Wannabe marches past.

    TLTE: I need another clone.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Of course! Anything for you, tovarish.

    TLTE: This time I want TLTE the Telepath.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: We already have TLTE the Telepath.

    TLTE: Oh good. Tell me where he can be found.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Vice executed him for not bowing quick enough a few months ago.

    TLTE: ...

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: Under the circumstance, I believe a TLTE the New Telepath might be called for!

    TLTE: Quite.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist inputs new programming into his computer and throws the lever again.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!!

    TLTE ignores the cackling maniac and guides the newly hatched TLTE the New Telepath into a different alcove.

    TLTE: We are testing our mental defenses. First, on me. Try to glean our password from my mind.

    TLTE the New Telepath: Of course, comrade.

    TLTE the New Telepath puts his dripping fingers to his own forehead and stares hard at TLTE, till his eyes almost bug out. After several moments, he nods.

    TLTE the New Telepath: I am uncertain whether to be ashamed of myself or proud of you, but I cannot glean anything from you save the latest hockey scores.

    TLTE: Excellent. Now, our cackling friend--

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALLLLIIIIIIVE!!!

    TLTE: --may not be so inured. It is your duty to find out.

    TLTE the New Telepath: Of course. Weakness must not be tolerated!

    TLTE the New Telepath puts his fingers to his temples and bugs his eyes in the direction of TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist.

    TLTE the New Telepath: Ah, this one's mind is not so shielded. I read the password easily from his thoughts.

    TLTE: In his mania, he has been lax. But he did tell me of a plan he had... to think of only false passwords, to fool enemy telepaths. We must confirm whether or not you uncovered the real password, or if his mental defenses are cleverer than you think.

    TLTE the New Telepath: Of course. Tell me the password, and I will confirm.

    TLTE: No, you tell me the password.

    TLTE the New Telepath: No, you should-- Waiiiit a minute--

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist's cackling yell once again drowns out another killshot. TLTE tromps back into the laboratory, shouldering his way past TLTE the Cooking Show Star.

    TLTE: One more beta clone should do it, methinks. TLTE the Gullible Telepath.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist nods, and programs the computer before pulling the lever.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: It's alive! ALIVE! ALLLII--

    TLTE: You really don't have to do that. Every. Single. Time.

    TLTE the Crazy-Haired Mad Scientist: --IIIVEEEEE!!!

    TLTE sighs and takes TLTE the Gullible Telepath off to a third shadowy alcove, and this time successfully extracts the password: 'The fat lady sings tonight.'
    Last edited by Al Ciao; 09-08-2015 at 08:18 PM.

  12. #1892
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Chapter Thirty-Eight Continued

    Britt: The Legend - Chapter 48.3

    The doors burst open an a piratey figure rushes in, light-cutlass drawn.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Here he comes to save the daaaaaaay!!"

    General Seriol: "Who in the name of Marduck let you in here!?"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "I let myself in. Seems all the action's going down in here so all the guards are shoving their faces up against the windows."

    Britt: "Kaptin! Where the Hell've you been!?"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Well, since someone let me stranded in 1555...!"

    Britt: "Derp."

    Polly: "We were about to be murdered by a very angry Salmitton... or Evil Queen. We had to act fast and get out of there."

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Yeah! I know! I went waltzing in there after the fact! That crazy woman wanted to experiment on me the women she clapped eyes on me. Thought I'd bring her eternal life or something."

    Britt: "What did you do?"

    The skeleton shrugged.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "I let her do it."


    Kaptin Kwanza: "What can I say, mate? She was a hottie!"

    Britt: "You can tell me about it over a drink later. For now... help me push buttons!"

    Kaptin Kwanza, before questioning the act, starts to press random buttons, switches and pull levers.

    Kaptin Kwanza:
    "Why're we doing this?"

    Britt: "To stop them from destroying the Earth!"

    General Seriol:
    "Stop! You two, get away from that console!"

    The General grabs Britt's jacket, causing the Sleeper to slip and accidentally press the correct button to cease the Jovian plans. The missles that were fired stop dead in space and start floating about, ready to either be salvaged or to be lost and eventually collide with something very unfortunate.

    General Seriol: "No! Now there's nothing to save us!"

    Britt rolled his eyes.

    "So melodramatic. The moon is considered part of Earth's territory, right?"

    General Seriol: "Yes. Under space treaties of 167--"

    "Don't need to know. Kaptin, hold my arm."

    Kaptin Kwanza linked his arm with Britt's.

    Kaptin Kwanza:
    "You know I never kiss on the first date, Britt."

    Britt: "This is hardly our first date... with ADVENTURE!!"

    He tapped his time-travel licence and the two of them zapped out of existence and were transported to the moon base. Luckily they appeared inside the base where oxygen was plentiful, rather than outside where Britt would have suffocated into Sleep again.

    They peered out of a window at the barren, white surface of the moon.

    Britt: "Fun times! Let's shut down this giant nipple."

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Nipple!?"

    Britt: "I meant to say laser. Laaaaser."

    They ran down the moonbase passage, which looked remarkably... moonbasey, until they came across a man in a yellow jumpsuit. Because all evil plans need dudes in jumpsuits.

    Jumpsuit Goon: "Oi! Who the Hell're you two?"

    Britt: "Uh... moonbase inspection team! We're here to check the... uh... health and safety of this installation!"

    Jumpsuit Goon: "You've picked a Helluva time for it, fella! We're about fire ma lazor!"

    Britt: "Uh... we'll start there then."

    The goon led the two of them through the mess hall and past the kitchen. Britt poked his head in to see what was for dinner. Clangers. The poor pink things were being boiled and mashed into Clanger burgers.

    Jumpsuit Goon: "There's nawt else on this rock to eat."

    Final they find the control station for the laser. A large hexagonal room with a central column with a very big red button that was probably used to fire the thing.

    Jumpsuit Goon: "I'm hoping it'll be my go to push the button! First Jupiter then Saturn. Never liked those suspicious-looking ring things round that planet. I tell y-- ow!"

    Britt thumped the goon in the face and he fell to the metal floor with a clang. Instantly red lights flashed and a siren screeched.

    Kaptin and Britt made their way across the higher level, punching jumpsuits as they went. Britt poured tea all over the consoles he passed by with a malicious grin. Health and safety down the pan!

    Britt: "Down the ladders!"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Aye aye!"

    The skeleton clambered down the ladders and started stabbing jumpsuits with his light-cutlass. Britt rose up a wave of tea that quickly pushed him up into the air and down again, as gently, onto the lower level. He ran at the central column and diverted the wave of tea straight at it. He ensured it would have extra sugar in it to make the tea residue extra sticky.

    A goon ran at the red button. Britt threw tea his way, smashing monitors, panels, consoles. The goon ducked and dodged all the way to the button. Kaptin skewered the guy, but just too late. His hand hit the button.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Uh-oh..."

    Britt continued to pour tea onto the central column, causing sparks of electricity to spew and crackle. The lights in the room shut off, replaced by the red emergency lighting. The laser cannon shifted its vantage point to aim at Jupiter.

    Britt: "No way! C'mon!"

    The shaft fizzles with energy and then lets out a long fart-sound as it entirely lost its energy.

    The two men fist the air and, after eating a few of those Clanger burgers, Britt took them back to the Earth to be rewarded for their efforts.


    Sometime later, a Jovian ship had landed on the Earth and Polly was now official diplomat to smooth over relations between the two planets. When she had mentioned the prospects of trade, the American government practically wet themselves. The group would then arrange to meetup at the old research station that Ohqeanos worked at.

    They met up in the canteen.

    Britt waggled his ordinary beef burger.

    Britt: "Honestly, they should get on those Clanger burgers and start shipping them down here. They may be cute and weird, but they taste awesome."

    Ohqeanos: "I'll mention that to Prime next time I see him."

    Britt pointed his finger from Polly to Ohqeanos.

    Britt: "So what about you pair?"

    Polly shrugged.

    Polly: "Well... the war was averted so... I guess..."

    Ohqeanos suddenly stood up, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. The Hulk, who had become much more man than beast now, pulled Ohqeanos' chair out of the way.

    Ohqeanos suddenly fell to one knee.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "No way..."

    Nostradamus: "Oooh! I've always wanted to see this!"

    Ohqeanos: "Prince Ptolly. I know our marriage was supposed to be one of politics but in the short time I've known you I find my heart... captured by your beauty, your intelligence, your charisma and your refined spirit that truly dragged me from the shell I was hiding in and showed me the light. I was so alone before you came into my life and without you I feel I... would be alone once again. I need you and love you in more ways than I could ever express. But I will say four words that, though they do no justice to what I'm feeling, will encompass everything I long for and dream of."

    Polly, who had stood up in shock, allowed Ohqeanos to take her hand and slip a beautiful silver ring onto her finger. He'd bought the rock when he was on Jupiter, the stone glittered like a rainbow and seemed to weigh down the woman's hand as he put it onto her finger.

    Ohqeanos: "Will you marry me?"

    Polly: "I... I..."

    Everyone sat, tense with anticipation.

    Polly: "Of course I do!"

    Ohqeanos leapt up and embraced his dearest love in his arms. They kiss and the rest of the group cooed. Britt clapped his hands enthusiastically and emotionally. Kaptin Kwanza started to cry. Or he would if he had tear ducts.

    Polly: "I'll have to resign my position. But that's okay. I was getting bored of old men at tables, babbling on about trade prices."

    Ohqeanos: "I hope you can find something else that makes you happy."

    Polly: "I enjoyed tomb raiding..."

    Britt: "Can't say I approve of that profession. A few of my tombs have been raided over the years! They even knicked the spare pair of pants I had in a wardrobe, if you can believe it!"

    Polly: "Don't worry. If I ever find your tomb, I promise not to steal your pants. Only the valuables."

    "Gee... thanks..."

    Hulk: "I hope you'll get married in a good American church?"

    Ohqeanos: "I... hadn't really thought about it."

    Britt: "Well, actually, now that you mention it. I'm technically an ordained Priest, you know?"

    Polly: "No you're not."

    Britt: "I am too! Nostradamus, you wrote my book! Tell them!"

    Nostradamus: "He is indeed an ordained Priest."

    Ohqeanos: "Wow. I never thought you were so religious, Britt!"

    Britt: "I'm not. But I wanted a ghost-bustin' gun."

    Nobody chose to ask questions about that one.

    Ohqeanos: "Still... I think we should hire a professional."

    Polly agreed with her fiancé and thus Britt never got to use his priestly powers of matrimony. Instead the two went on to take Hulk's advice and get married in a traditional American church. Polly's father, King Btilly, came all the way from Jupiter give his daughter away - a strange custom to a Jupiterian who lived in a matriarchal society and the king was mostly there to look handsome. Prime was Ohqeanos' best man, something Britt was a little sour about but at least he got to sit on the groom's side of the hall - away from the scary Jupiterian women that might turn into monsters, flowers or any other such imaginable objects. In fact, so many of Polly's family came that they took up extra space on the groom's, almost empty, side.

    Polly and Ohqeanos went off to reside at Ohqeanos' old home in The Nest. Britt told him of his grandfather's scheme and Ohqeanos went on his own personal quest to seek out Asa and learn the truth with his own ears. Polly became an archaeologist by name, tomb raider by darkness. She was given a position in university where she spent just two days of the year giving lectures on the crazy stuff she found all over the world. She'd often call Britt for suggestions on artefacts and places that he may have knowledge of.

    Nostradamus was taken back to his own time where he read through his copy of The NeS and transcribed Britt's adventures into a chronicle he called Britt: The Legend. It sold millions of copies but Britt in the novel was always assumed to be a folk lore, rather than the truth, and Britt, the brave hero that saved the Earth, was believed to have taken his name from that mythical hero from Nostradamus' books. Nostradamus also made a fortune predicting the end of the world. Which he predicted several times and several different ways, from asteroid to plot to dust. Each copy also sold well and Nostradamus was a very rich man by the time he died. Cheating his way to fame and fortune by rewriting excerpts from a book he'd stolen.

    Britt was inducted into a special new team that the American government was putting together to vouch for American values and safeguard the world. Forcibly.

    The man Britt had always called the Hulk was the group's first member and its mascot hero. The man had become a strong and powerful human being with super abilities that far outweighed the common man. His new role came complete with a new American-themed outfit and a new name - The Patriot.

    Although The Patriot was the group's face, Britt was offered the role of team leader. And his first job was to recruit other members. First and foremost, Kaptin Kwanza became a member because the skeleton would be lost without Britt around. Britt had asked Ohqeanos to join, but the young man refused. His one adventure was enough for him and even Polly only ever acted as an associate for the group, offering advice or expertise on missions that required her skills.

    Britt secured funding from the government to begin a project that would lead to the eventual creation of a spacestation designed to protect the Earth from the alien menace. Shady government types then informed him that they were going to merge the Hero Force project with another - DelphAI. Britt was quite pleased to meet an old acquaintance and was unsurprised that she and Kaptin Kwanza got on splendidly. They got to make undead and bone jokes all day long.

    And now the team was going to be sent into the Vietnam war. But their mission wasn't to assist the American forces. It was to route out the Viet Cong's secret ally... the alien menace!

  13. #1893
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Nine

    Britt: The Legend - Chapter Forty-Nine

    Rock music plays at the Huey 'copter soared across the sky of Vietnam. Britt, crouched by the open doors, watches the Vietnamese people run from the flying machine - probably afraid of being shot by the massive gatling gun. But this wasn't a normal American war machine. They weren't there to score easy targets. In the distance, American soldiers were torching the jungles. The Patriot watched, on edge. He wanted to leap from the helicopter and join his fellow men in the heat, but he knew in his mind that they had a greater threat to deal with before this war was through.

    Winters: "Master Britt, I'm picking up unusual chatter!"

    The woman started to fiddle with her scanning equipment that while hi-tech, appeared to be surprisingly lo-tech in its aesthetics. Mostly because of the duct tape used to keep it tied to a cardboard box. She pulled her yellow-glass goggles over her eyes.

    The Patriot: "How did you convince her to call you that?"

    Britt: "I didn't. She insists."

    Winters thrust a "V for victory" in Patriot's face.

    The Patriot: "There's no room for peace here, buttercup."

    Winters seemed to consider.

    She, again, thrust her "V for victory" in Patriot's face.

    The Patriot: "She's mentally deficient."

    Winters: "You shouldn't talk like I'm not here."

    Britt: "Let her concentrate on finding that nest."

    Winters: "Ah! I knew I was doing something!"

    Her hair is a short curly bob on the top of her head, which Britt long suspected was cut that way so she had to do little maintenance on it. Her skin was very pale, as though she spent very little time outside in the sun. Contrary to the period, she wore a red coat that resembled the old British red coats and was a little overly large for her. She also had an overly long scarf that was twice the size it ought to be and was wrapped several times around her neck. Strapped to her are an assortment of duct taped gadgets and bits of machinery.

    Winters: "We're right above the hidden complex now."

    Britt leaned out and looked down.

    Britt: "You know we're right over the Red River Delta, right?"

    The Patriot: "There's a tiny island there, pal. I bet a a Jovian cinnamon bun that's where they're at."

    Britt: "No way! Of course they're down there!"

    The Patriot tutted.

    The Patriot: "Thought I was going to get a cinnamon bun out of you. Oh well. Want to rock-paper-scissors for first drop?"

    Ms. Deep: "Sorry, gentlemen, but I believe it's ladies first."

    The tall, sleek woman stood up. She was wearing a skin-tight catsuit of orange, gold and yellow camo pattern. To add to her height she wore platforms and her hair was styled into an afro. Without waiting for a response from her team mates she leapt from the plane.

    Britt: "I hate it when she does that."

    The Patriot: "You hired her."

    Britt: "I'm a sucker for beautiful and extremely deadly women."

    The Patriot: "Well, I'm next."

    He jumped out before Britt could beat him to it. He looked down and saw two parachutes open up. He doubted Patriot needed the chute, but it would be better to finish the mission with all of his bones in tact.

    Britt: "Keep in touch, Winters."

    Winters: "Got it, Master Britt!"

    She saluted with as stern a face she could manage - only making her look all the more adorable. Britt shook his head. Quite the team he had.

    Britt: "Make sure the Company Kid doesn't get shot this time. I swear we shouldn't let them pilot the choppers."

    Winters: "You can count on me!"

    Britt: "I'd like to think so, Winters."

    Britt jumped from the 'copter. Wind tugged at his clothes as he fell, his blue steampunk trenchcoat billowed and whipped out behind him. She formed as thin a shape as he could and sped downwards. He zipped by The Patriot's parachute and overheard a series of angry expletives from the genetically engineered hulk. Britt grinned to himself but regretted he hadn't "V for victory" signed at Patriot as he whirled by.

    As he got close to the ground he drew up his energy and a geyser of tea drew up from the ground and slowed his fall until he came to a gentle stop on the sandy beach of the tiny island. Ms Deep unbuckled her chute, having beat him to the landing.

    Ms. Deep: "Delightful, Boss."

    Britt: "You shouldn't call me that."

    Ms. Deep: "Too formal for you?"

    Britt: "No. It's just too sexy with that silky voice of yours."

    Ms. Deep shook her head but smiled.

    Britt: "I'm being serious. It's absolutely distracting and I'm going to wind up a liability because I'm too busy listening to you calling me boss."

    Ms. Deep: "Don't worry, Boss. When Deaction comes, I don't do much talking..."

    Britt swallowed hard as he watched her walk off, further into the island. The thump of The Patriot's landing awoke him from his longing stare.

    The Patriot: "You ain't got no chance, pal. That cat... way out of your league."

    Britt: "Way to dash a guy's dreams."

    The Patriot: "Just want your head in the game. This is it, pal. That moment when it all falls into place. The real conspirators are down there somewhere."

    Britt: "I got it. Commies. I know."

    The Patriot: "Alien Commies!"

    The two men went after Ms. Deep, the infiltration expert. They didn't expect much resistance after she'd been through the area. They reached the bunker entrance. A grey and bland affair that was barely concealed by the foliage piled ontop of it. It'd work for anyone trying to spy it from the air, but didn't hold up from anyone stood in front of it. Ms. Deep was leaning against the doors.

    Ms. Deep: "One for your Delectable friend in the sky."

    Britt commed through to Winters.

    Britt: "Winters. Can you open a door for us."

    Winters: "Sure thing, Master Britt!"

    Britt took out a steam-punk datapad he'd kept since his days when he walked with dinosaurs. He held it up to the keypad for the bunker and he could see, on his screen, Winters take control of it from her position in the sky. A moment later and Ms. Deep had to jump away from the door.

    Ms. Deep: "I'll see you Dewonderful gentlemen up ahead."

    She smiled at Britt again before she disappeared into the bunker.

    The Patriot: "It's never going to happen."

    Britt: "Oh c'mon!"

    They stalked into the bunker. They found a few panels broken, which were likely controls for traps that Deep discovered and sabotaged. The lights were dim and the place appeared deserted.

    The Patriot: "This isn't right."

    Britt: "I think you might be right... for once."

    The Patriot: "What--"

    Winters voice suddenly burst over Britt's comm.

    Winters: "We're being shot at! Oh noes!"

    Britt: "Winters? What's happening!?"

    Winters: "I'm in mega panic mode!"

    Britt: "Who's shooting at you?"

    Winters: "It's a UFO! Laser beams and cannons and L.E.D.s and everything!"

    Britt: "L.E.D.s? Tell Company Kid to get out of here. We can get ourselves to safety."

    Winters: "Too late! He's dead. He got shotted."

    Britt: "What!? Why didn't you say so in the first place!? Winters, you need to jump from the helicopter!"

    Winters: "Aye aye, Master Britt!"

    Britt: "Use a parachute!!"

    Winters: "Oh right yeah! Parachute and away!! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"

    The Patriot: "And why do we have her on the team?"

    Britt: "Pity..."

    The main doors to the bunker suddenly slam shut and the lights go out. There's a sound in the air, like the static of a radio. Then a voice echoed from speakers installed in the walls.

    Romanov: "So, you are the Hero Force One of America. Finally so good to meet you. You have been a thorn in my plans here in Vietnam for too long. But now I have you trapped like rats."

    Britt: "It's our old friend..."

    The Patriot: "He'd recognise you, but he won't recognise me I think. Not unless he were to pay real close attention anyway."

    Britt: "Well, you have lost a few pounds since Jupiter. Haha!"

    Romanov: "And Britt, I am sure you are there. You have caused me so much anguish in the past. Consider this my return in kind."

    Suddenly lights turned back on and blinded the two of them. Through the haze of artificial light, Britt saw hidden doors all along the corridor open and from them stepped a man in strange white armour that Britt had never seen before. The man's face, however, he did recognise. They were The Last True Evil clones.

    The Patriot: "That armour. It must be from the Commies alien friends."

    Britt: "We have to get out of here!"

    They ran, just as laser fire lit up the corridor and struck the wall where they'd been stood. A door panel opened and The Patriot grabbed the clone before he even had time to wake up from his induced slumber. The clone was left in a clump on the floor, but yet more panels were opening.

    Britt: "How many are there!? How could Romanov produce so many so quickly! He'd only made a few the last time I saw him in the Himalayas!"

    TLTE: "These clone soldiers are nothing to be feared."

    Britt: "What they lack in your strength, Patriot, they're making up for with their numbers!"

    Britt caused a massive wave of tea to gush down the corridor ahead of them, pushing TLTEs with it and short-circuiting several unopened panels along the way.

    The Patriot ran after the wave, moving almost as fast as the water did, and slammed any unfortunate enough to still be reeling from the tea wave. The tea crashed into a wall and lost its momentum. Soldiers turned that very corner but were met at close-quarters with the raging American war machine. His fist crashed into the face of one clone and sent his legs flying up into the air while his head went to the ground. He then grabbed two heads of TLTEs and smashed them together. The final TLTE managed to punch The Patriot in the face. This just made the hulk angry. Britt watched the TLTE clone fly by him and slide along the wet floor somewhere behind him. Then the lasers started again and Britt was quick to jump around the bend.

    The Patriot stormed ahead again, taking out anyone foolish enough to appear before him. Britt, however, was suddenly taken unawares when a panel slid open and the TLTE clone leapt out at him. He used his laser carbine to try to strangle the tea-blooded hero. But it didn't last long as, from the shadows, emerged the infiltrator who quickly sent a neural surge through the TLTE's brain with the neurolyser she had attached to her hand. The TLTE shuddered and then slumped to the floor in a stupor.

    Ms. Deep: "You are deasterously unobservant, Boss."

    Britt: "Thanks, Ms. Deep."

    Ms. Deep: "You are, shall we say, Dewelcome."

    She smiled again and took his hand. They then ran after The Patriot. Their progress brought them to an unusual room with what appeared to be a bottomless pit below them and a metallic walkway suspended over said pit.

    Britt: "You've got to be kidding me. Who the Hell would design a room like this!?"

    The Patriot: "Communist design. They couldn't afford a floor."

    Britt: "Uh... right. Maybe we should find another way."

    The Patriot: "What's wrong with the walkway? The door's just there."

    Britt: "Seriously? An ominous walkway suspended over a bottomless pit? Obviously it's going to collapse and we'll end up dangling over oblivion."

    The Patriot: "Well, I'm happy to go back and fight my way out."

    Britt: "On second thought, let's try the bridge after all."

    The Patriot went first and made it all the way across without a hitch. Britt rolled his eyes. He let Ms. Deep go next after deducing if the bridge would break better it broke on him and not someone more mortal - and it always broke on the last man across.

    When she was over he went next. Carefully. Slowly. The bridge shuddered and trembled. Then he was over. No problems.

    Britt: "Huh. Breaking convention here!"

    Suddenly the door in front of them exploded. The Patriot was knocked to the ground but Ms. Deep, being much lighter, was sent flying. She skidded onto the bridge, which then gave way and she fell. Britt reached out and caught her wrist.

    Britt: "I've got you!"

    Ms. Deep: "Britt! Britt! Please... my brother is at the Magium but I want him to join you and this team. Promise you'll take him!"

    Britt: "This isn't a time for recruitment!"

    Ms. Deep: "I can't hold on! Promise me!"

    Britt: "I- I promise! Just... don't... let... go!!"

    He felt his grip slipping and the sweat of anxiety made their hands slippery. Then his hold failed and their hands were separated. She screamed. But it was short-lived. The Patriot's powerful arm hand appeared and grabbed the woman's arm about her elbow. He yanked her up like she weighed nothing and deposited her on the floor. TLTE clones that had blown up the door lay in a pile.

    Britt: "Wow... thank God."

    The Patriot: "Indeed. Thank God for imbuing me with the strength I have."

    Ms. Deep breathed deeply as she tried to collect herself.

    Ms. Deep: "Thank you, Patriot. And Britt, thank you too. Sorry for losing my cool."

    Britt: "Don't worry about it. I lost mine too. What about now? We Decool?"

    Ms. Deep:
    "We Decool."

    She smiled and lowered her head to kiss him. She then walked away after running a hand down his face.

    The Patriot: "You know it was me that saved you, right?"

    Britt sauntered after her with a broad grin on his face. Then his comms activated again and he was relieved to hear the sweet voice of Winters.

    Winters: "Master Britt! I'm in!"

    Britt: "In where?"

    Winters: "The bunker of course! Where else?"

    Britt: "What? How!?"

    Winters: "Through the front door! I mean, I had to haxxorz my way through it but I got there in the end!"

    Britt: "Winters! Turn around and run away! Now!"

    Winters: "Waaaaaaah! There's a lot of mean guys in here! They all look the same!! I must have eaten some bad candy again."

    Britt: "We need to find her."

    Ms. Deep: "She can't be far from-- look out!"

    A large table came flying at them. Britt and Ms. Deep threw themselves to the ground to avoid it. The Patriot headbutted the table, shattering it into splinters. Before them stood a TLTE clone unlike the rest. He wore a black suit with a technological panel on the chest. In his hand was a light-sword similar to the one he'd seen in the hands of Decline.

    TLTE the Darth Vader Ripoff: "Surrender to the dark side of the Story! You know it's your destiny!"

    The Patriot: "Whatever that means."

    The Patriot, without thinking any further, leapt over his two prone allies and charged at the TLTE clone. With a wave of his hand, The Patriot was sent soaring through the air and smacked into a wall. Britt got to his feet and threw a few quick bursts of tea at the black-clad TLTE. Unfortunately the villain, somehow, used his lightsabre to deflect the tea back at Britt.

    "How can you deflect tea!?"

    TLTE the Darth Vader Ripoff: "Search your feelings, Britt. You know... I am your father!"

    Britt: "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo o!!"

    Ms. Deep shook Britt.

    Ms. Deep: "You don't really believe that do you!? Britt! Stop being so gullible!"

    The Patriot, meanwhile, had gotten to his feet and managed to reach TLTE quickly enough to land a punch to the gut. TLTE grunted and staggered back but rose his light sabre to defend himself. Britt threw more tea at the villain. Either TLTE would be distracted by the tea and lose focus on Patriot, or he'd keep focus on Patriot and be struck by tea.

    Instead TLTE jumped, using the Force, ridiculously high into the air and landed back down again further away in the room.

    TLTE the Darth Vader Ripoff: "I am now the Master!"

    Britt: "Only a master of evil, TLTE!"

    Suddenly a ventilation grid rattled and dropped on TLTE's head and crushed him instantly. Sitting ontop of the grid was agent Winters.

    Ms. Deep: "She's heavier than she looks!"

    Winters: "Yay! Master Britt! I was so afeared all by my lonesome self! These mean guys are everywhere!"

    The Patriot: "You're safe now, cupcake. Now be a good lass and find us a way out of here so I can nail some more of these clowns and catch that fool Romanov."

    Winters: "Already plotted a course, Patriot Guy!"

    She saluted at him, her long sleeved draped over her hand.

    The Patriot: "Just tell me the way and I'll clear us a path."

    This she did. The Patriot charged on, smashing TLTE clones left, right and centre with Ms. Deep and Britt dealt with those lucky enough to escape the hulk's wrath. Finally they reach a set of doors that agent Winters said would lead them back to the surface - though a different entrance that the one they'd taken to get inside the bunker. She made short work of the door's lock and it slid open. They found they had made it to the mainland and were in the middle of a dense jungle.

    Britt: "Uh-oh. We have to be careful here. There's bound to be Viet Cong hidden in the trees..."

    The Patriot: "And those Commie clones!"

    Winters: "And little teddy bears with sticks!"

    They look at Winters.

    She remained oblivious.

    They entered the jungle and crept as silently through the shrubbery as they could. Ever careful for traps that may have been laid out. Britt felt his heart beat loudly in his ears. He didn't care much for the Communist versus Capitalism war, but the Viet Cong wouldn't take the time to discern where his loyalties actually lay. The Patriot, on the other hand, seemed rearing to go.

    Britt felt something strange underfoot. He put his hand to the ground and felt it tremble. Then the shaking became more noticeable.

    Winters: "Some things very big are coming this way."

    Britt: "Group together and get ready for anything."

    Trees crashed and were mowed down as several massive metal structures burst from the jungle. They were big, grey and appeared to have rabbit-like ears.

    A speaker on one of the rabbit walkers sounded out.

    Admiral Thrawn: "This is Admiral Thrawn on behalf of the Galactic Empire. I order you to throw down your weapons and surrender immediately."

    Britt: "Who?"

    Admiral Thrawn's voice balked.

    Admiral Thrawn: "Did you just ask who!? Who!? I am the greatest tactical genius this world will ever encounter! And right now I am your captor. Unless you want to become bloodstains on the bottom of my walkers' feet."

    The Patriot: "You must be the alien empire in league with the God damn Commies!"

    Admiral Thrawn: "Indeed we have struck an accord with your Soviet Union."

    Ms. Deep: "An empire is fascist isn't it? What're fascists doing allying with communists?"

    Admiral Thrawn: "If I provide weapons and technology to your Soviet Union, they'll do all of the fighting for us. Your countries enter your Third World War and destroy yourselves. Thus leaving your world an easily occupied planet in the name of the Empire."

    Britt: "Thanks for telling us your plan. Thought you were a genius?"

    Admiral Thrawn: "I tell you because I like to show off. And I know you'll be dead in a moment."

    Britt: "They always say that."

    The Patriot: "Time to show them why we're Hero Force One!"

    Britt fired a geyser of tea underneath The Patriot, sending him flying up quickly into the air. He landed on one of the Rabbit Walkers and punched a hole into its face, trying to grab the men driving it. Likewise, Britt sent Ms. Deep flying up to another walker where she set charges to the top of it. She jumped back down and let the explosions rip the metal canopy apart. The explosion shook the area and set fire to the trees nearby.

    Britt: "That's going to attract attention from everyone. We should finish this quickly."

    Agent Winters was stood on the foot of one of the walkers, apparently unfazed that it was trying to shake her off. She was busy tapping away on the console she had duct taped to herself. Then the walker stopped dead. Then the hatch on top popped open and the storm troopers, who were not TLTEs, climbed out struggling with the sudden surge in heat that Winters had caused within the cockpit.

    Winters: "Master Britt! I bring a present for you!"

    Britt: "Yeah, because I'll be able to pick up chicks in this time for sure..."

    Ms. Deep: "Well, I'm Dethrilled."

    Britt: "Good work, Winters!"

    Winters: "Thank you, Master Britt! I work hard to please you!"

    Britt: "How the buggery are we supposed to get into that thing anyway?"

    Later, after a lot of climbing, Britt, Ms. Deep and agent Winters were all inside the Rabbit Walker. The Patriot stood on top of the cockpit, growling at the jungle. The walker stomped and stomped its way through the trees, knocking them aside. Above they heard an American plane fly overhead, likely spraying chemicals into the jungle to kill the foliage. Not a particularly honourable method of attack in Britt's opinion, but they were supposed to be on his side. Fortunately the poison wouldn't have an affect on those inside the walker and The Patriot's bioengineering meant he was practically invulnerable to disease, illness and the ever popular spy method of poisoning.

    Winters: "I just received a message, Master Britt. Kaptin Kwanza is en route! In his new spaceship!"

    Britt: "Great. I have a feeling we'll find our new friend in orbit around Earth. Is everyone up for a bit of star trekking?"

  14. #1894
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    Quote Originally Posted by Britt the Legend: Interlude
    In orbit high above the Earth, the Imperial Star Destroyer Chimaera floats menacingly. In his private command chamber, Grand Admiral Thrawn is playing dejarik with the time-traveling Highemperor.

    Thrawn: Hmm, I wonder what sorts of art this 'Britt' likes.

    Highemperor: Tea-painted illustrations, as I recall. Of course, that was 12,000 years ago, so his tastes may have changed since then.

    Thrawn: Possible. Checkmate.

    Highemperor does a double take at the board, and swears.

    Highemperor: Not again.

    Thrawn: Again? This is the first game we've played.

    Highemperor: Um... THAT NEVER HAPPENED!

    Using his powerplaying abilities, Highemperor rolls back time to a couple moves ago, and changes his move to prevent the upcoming checkmate.

    Thrawn: This seems so familiar somehow...

    Highemperor: Just deja vu, probably >.>
    Last edited by Al Ciao; 09-22-2015 at 06:54 PM.

  15. #1895
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt the Legend - Chapter Fifty

    Britt: The Legend - Chapter 50 (Finale)

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Don't worry, mates! The Jolly Wanker will make it through in one piece!"

    Ms. Deep: "You mean there'll be just a single piece left after the Imperials are done with it?"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Hurt a man's pride, you know?"

    Ms. Deep: "Can you be called a man without a... manhood?"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "I resemble that accusation. I mean RESENT!!"

    They're stood on the command deck of the Jolly Wanker, a ship that Kwanza had apparently won in a game of poker against several space-faring individuals that came to visit the Earth. Of course most of them had ever played poker before so he had a fair advantage.

    The command deck has a raised rear where several seats allow officers to sit down and buckle in, while down the front is a bank of four computers - each allowing controls of the ship with different specific functions. Britt sat at the back with Kaptin Kwanza. Ms. Deep, an expert with electronics, was already at home with the pilot's control bank. Next to her was Winters, an already established computer genius, who was on the scanning bank. Because The Patriot didn't know his arse from a Magnavox Odyssey, he was using one of Sega's arcade light guns mounted to the weapons bank and aimed at the large window at the fore of the ship.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Agent Winters, report."

    Winters: "The alien vessel is... 1,600 metres in length. It's an Imperial-II class Star Destroyer and the command ship for the Galactic Empire. It has a cloaking device, computerised combat predictor and metal-crystal phase shifters. Six complement TIE squadrons, proton torpedo launchers and... too many to mount turbo-laser batteries..."

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Uh... right..."

    Winters: "It was built at Kuat Drive Yards. It underwent an upgrade from grade one to grade two during the Ga--"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Right! Okay! Yes. That was all super helpful and all but... put a bloody sock in it."

    Kaptin Kwanza rolled his eyes. Or he would have if he had any.

    Britt: "Winters. He didn't mean that literally."

    Winters put her boot back on.

    Ms. Deep: "Sounds like this behemoth will likely tear us apart. Are we still going in, Boss?"

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Yes! Oh you were talking to Britt..."

    Britt: "Our ship might be out-matched, but we have one thing that that monster doesn't!"

    Everyone looked at him expectantly.

    Britt: "Just gimme some time to figure out what that is..."

    Winters: "Teleporters, Master Britt!"

    Britt: "Aha! Teleporters!"

    Winters: "And coffee machines. And a massage parlour--"

    Britt eyed Kaptin Kwanza. The skeleton shrugged.

    Winters: "A half-eaten banana, a species of geranium that Kaptin Kwanza called Lisa--"

    Kaptin Kwanza shrugged again.

    Winters: "A stack of two hundred porn magazines--"

    Kaptin Kwanza jumped to his feet.

    Kaptin Kwanza: "Okay! Teleporter it is!"

    Ms. Deep: "We're really going to teleport over there? Dare I ask Winters what the troop numbers are on that thing?"

    Winters: "Well--"

    Britt: "Actually I have another idea... Kaptin, can we teleport another object off of this ship?"


    Grand Admiral Thrawn: "Ah. Seems I win."

    Highemperor: "God dammit! Why won't my powerplaying power allow me to beat you?"

    Grand Admiral Thrawn: "Powerplaying? Sir, have you been trying to cheat?"

    Highemperor: "Uh... this never ha-- whoa! What the heck!?"

    Something appeared in a Star Trek whir of light and noise, sitting on their dejerik bord. Highemperor's eyes widened when he realised it was a photon torpedo. He threw the table aside and exerted his will so that a protective shield engulfed him. The photon torpedo activated and red energy radiated violently from it. The entire room was suddenly a blur of red and from outside the Chimaera an explosion erupted from that section of the ship.

    As the explosion died down, Highemperor lowered his shield.

    Grand Admiral Thrawn: "Seems I'll have to forgive you for cheating at dejarik as you helped me cheat death this day. Seems these Earth heroes were underestimated this day. I'll have to have my quarters refitted and return to Earth with a new plan..."

    He gingerly stepped through the remains of the door just as two stormtroopers ran over to him.

    Grand Admiral Thrawn: "We retreat for repairs. But on the way out, pay our aggressor a little farewell. Aim for their bridge."

    The stormtroopers jogged off while Thrawn turned back to his guest.

    Highemperor: "... how about... poker?"


    Britt and crew cheered with victory when the Imperial Star Destroyer turned tail. A disco ball dropped from the ceiling and disco dancing ensued. Even The Patriot entered the spirit of things. All this dancing, however, meant nobody noticed the streaks of lasers headed straight towards them. Their ship was tiny enough, and their shields strong enough, to evade or absorb all but one laser. It struck the bridge window and those closest were hit first, Britt and Kaptin last...

    Britt opened his eyes. All manner of pain lurched from one side of his body to the next and back again. He looked down and saw his blood spilled but he didn't know where from. He reached out and found a single bone belonging to Kwanza. He had no idea which bone it was but he was pretty sure the Kaptin could be duct taped back together again. In the dim red emergency lighting he wasn't likely to find the rest of Kwanza so he left the bone where he found it and crawled forward. He looked up and saw that the emergency shutters had slammed down the moment of impact, protecting everyone inside from the cruelty of the void outside. He then found something else. Winters' severed head.

    He grabbed it in shock.

    Britt: "Winters! Are you alright!?"

    He eyes flickered open.

    Winters: "Master Britt! I'm in trouble again..."

    Britt: "You always are, Winters..."

    Winters: "Trouble's my middle name, you know?"

    Britt: "Sure it is..."

    Winters: "I appear to have lost my body..."

    "Well... I can see an arm... and maybe your big toe."

    Winters: "I was always very fond of my big... toe... Master Britt... I'm... cold..."

    Her eyes closed and Britt was left to play with her hair.

    Britt: "Don't worry, Winters. I'll get them to repair you. I promise."

    The Patriot: "Britt... your robot is not the one you should worry about..."

    Patriot was on one knee. If anyone could survive being struck by a turbo-laser to the face - it would be the ultimate American. But The Patriot's gaze fell on someone else. Britt, somewhat unceremoniously, handed The Patriot the unfortunate Winters' head and crawled over to another prone body.

    She was in one piece, unlike Winters, except for a rather large hole through her stomach. Something but had passed straight through Ms. Deep and must have been lying somewhere at the back of the room. Britt shook her but she, also unlike Winters, couldn't wake up again...

    There was a shuddering in the ship. Britt frowned. The shuddering felt... ominous. Like destiny. He had time to look up one last time as a chunk of the ceiling fell down on him and the body of Ms. Deep.


    Britt: "Knocked out by a piece of debris. I'm going to look a right fool when I finally Wake up again."

    The Negotiator smiled at Britt.

    The Negotiator: "I'm sorry, my son. But this is the end of the road. The End of your Story. We've reached the final chapter. There's no more Awakening for you."

    Britt: "Wait, what!? Seriously? That's it!? Killed by a plank of metal?"

    The Negotiator: "Apparently so."

    He waved his hand and the blackness of Britt's mind was replaced with white. Then Britt realised it wasn't white, it was sky. He was standing in the clouds.

    Britt: "A little cliché don't you think?"

    The Negotiator laughed slightly and began to walk towards a massive, white palace with golden spires which looks much like a middle-eastern mosque. Flying around the skies were angels of all shapes and sizes. Britt suddenly glared at The Negotiator.

    Britt: "You're the Christian God!?"

    The Negotiator: "For now it seems."

    Britt: "Whatever that means? You could have given me a heads up!"

    God: "An interesting choice of words considering how you died."

    Britt: "Ho ho ho. You have a sense of humour. A bad sense of humour."

    God: "Well, this is Heaven, my son. You don't have to stick around and talk with me all the time. I just wanted to thank you for paving the way for the ultimate creation. The Never-ending Story."

    Britt: "Well, I could find all the crazy wackos I've met over the... however long I lived. Actually I want to see Ms. Deep. Make sure she's okay."

    God: "Okay?"

    Britt: "Bad choice of words considering, I know. I just want to see her."

    God: "Well, I'm sorry to tell you that is impossible..."

    Britt: "Why!?"

    God: "She's not here."

    Britt: "I saw her body. She was dead before me."

    God: "Yes she is dead. But she is not here in Heaven..."

    Britt: "You mean--? But why!? She's one of us! A good guy! A hero!"

    God: "Well, I won't get into the subjectivity of that, however she's not here for a very good reason. She sold her soul... to the Devil."

    Britt: "She... did?"

    God: "There's nothing I can do about it. I saw the contract that she signed. She's in Hell now."

    Britt: "No... but why would she sell her soul?"

    God: "Power? Wealth? Why does anyone sell their soul?"

    Britt: "You mean you don't know? But I have to see her!"

    God: "You mean you wish to go to Hell?"

    Britt: "If I must."

    God: "There is no returning from that."

    Britt: "Seriously? Just for a visit?"

    God: "The boundaries between the two realms have to be controlled."

    Britt: "But... I know she's not supposed to be down there!"

    God: "Then go. Your final adventure..."

    Britt: "Fine. Thanks for nothing."

    God didn't reply, he simply opened a gateway. As soon as it opened, high above the raging fires of Hell, Britt could sense a longing from within. A longing to be where he was. He hesitated. Was it worth going down there just to satisfy his curiosity. He shrugged to himself. If there was a small chance of saving the soul of his friend, he'd have to go. God smiled.

    God: "Good luck."

    Britt: "I don't believe in luck. Just myself."

    God: "Good."

    Britt stepped through and plummeted down and down. Until he smacked into the ground with a strike that should have rendered his body in pieces. Fortunately he was already dead. He pushed himself up to his feet and found that he was surrounded by several demons. Succubi.

    Succubus #1: "Hello."

    Her voice was sensual and inviting, even with just a single and innocuous word. They were wearing clothes, but Britt was sure he'd seen more material on prostitutes. One of the women came up behind him and slid her hands over his chest.

    Britt: "Wow. This is a better welcome than I got in Heaven."

    Succubus #2: "And we'll do much, much more for you yet!"

    The succubus behind him smelt the skin on his neck.

    Succubus #3: "I can smell it on him. I smell Heaven."

    Suddenly the succubi were crowding in and trying to smell Heaven's scent on his skin. They pulled off his coat - apparently he was wearing the clothes he died in. Lucky he hadn't died in his pyjamas.

    He began to get uncomfortable and tried to duck out of the crowd of succubi but he was stopped by them. He tried harder and they restrained him more forcibly. They evidently weren't going to left him go.

    Stan: "Oi! You lot! Clear off!"

    The succubi jumped and hissed at the demon striding towards them. All red, big horns and an angry face. Evidently this was Satan himself.

    Stan: "I said shoo! Bloody things. I swear, they see a new plaything and you're on your back for the next two months."

    Britt: "I'll be honest, there's got to be worse fates."

    Stan: "Teeth. They have teeth..."

    Britt pointed at his mouth in confusion but Satan shook his head and pointed downwards. Britt squirmed with horror.

    Stan: "Thought I'd save you the trouble of having to reattach your knob every hour."

    He slapped his huge hand on Britt's arm. A Heavenly spark hiccoughed from the area and Satan retracted his hand quickly.

    Stan: "Whoa. Gonna have to be careful around you."

    He took out a notebook and flipped through it, mumbling "Britt, Britt, Britt" until he eventually found the page he was looking for. He hand a large, red finger down the list until he reached Britt's name.

    Stan: "Ah. Well, you're a free spirit it seems. Chose to be here. Lucky you. No torture pits."

    Britt: "That's good to know. Actually, you're probably the perfect person to speak to. I'm looking for someone. She sold her soul to you. Her name is-- was Ms. Deep."

    Satan frowned.

    Stan: "I don't remember anyone with a name like that. She sounds like a porn star so I really would remember someone like that! Let me check my list."

    He started flipping through pages. He squinted at the words, then pulled out a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles and blinked.

    Stan: "Aha! There we go. Not me, I'm afraid. She sold her soul to the Devil himself."

    Britt: "Uh... you're not Satan?"

    Stan: "Well... yes I am. I'm actually Stan. But everyone called me Satan. I was ruler of Hell some time ago. But now I'm just a Supervisor. I Supervise this lot--"

    He motioned to the succubi who were all hiding behind a rock and peeking out at them. Britt thought they actually looked quite cute until, when they noticed him looking, they flashed him. Teeth. Britt shivered.

    Stan: "I've been here since... well, since God took over. Wish I could find a way to get out of it. It was better was I was the Devil, you know? Easier. Now I get no respect. Especially not from these little sods. Oi! But it away! Nobody wants to see that!"

    Britt nodded in sympathy.

    Stan: "If you think they're bad, wait til you see the incubi. A whole world of trouble they are."

    Britt: "I'd really rather not. But... did you say God took over?"

    Stan: "He did. But in preparation for this... new world they're creating up there, he put someone else in charge down here. Promoted, actually."

    Britt: "And is that who Ms. Deep sold her soul to?"

    Stan: "That's right. I can book you an appointment to meet the Devil and you can talk about your porn star friend then. Wish it was me. Or even just to be free of this place. Go travelling or something, you know? See the world. Better to rule in Hell than to serve... in Hell. Or just get the Hell outta dodge, right?"

    Britt: "Right... I think you should considering see a therapist, Stan. Sounds like you need to really... get it all out."

    Stan: "Maybe you're right. If I could touch someone with a pure soul, I'd be able to use that divine power to expel myself from Hell. Or merge with it and become freakin' awesome. Not sure which would happen to be honest. But I'd be happy with either."

    Britt: "Seriously. Therapist. You'll feel better."
    In the Writers' Realm, Britt the Writer fists the air in triumph.

    Britt the Writer: "YES! I am the Continuity Master!!"

    Gebohq the Writer: "I said stop forcing your retcons! Plot-holes are our thing! I like them! And what I like we wri-- are you even listening to my rant?"

    Britt the Writer glanced up from his Wii U gamepad. Al Ciao the Writer leaned over and watched what Britt the Writer was doing.

    Al Ciao the Writer: "Did you just select a plot-hole on Mario Maker?"

    Britt the Writer nodded. He dragged the plot-hole on his screen and flicked it. It appeared, abruptly, behind Gebohq the Writer. Wide-eyed, Gebohq the Writer is sucked into the plot-hole.

    Al Ciao the Writer: "Dude... you just sent the Editor through a plot-hole!"

    Britt the Writer: "It's okay. He said he likes them."

    In Gebohq the Writer's place emerges a new person. Mr Nice Editor.

    The man claps his hands together.

    Mr Nice Editor: "Okay team! I was thinking we could have a brainstorming session and--"

    Britt the Writer: "Break time!"

    Mr Nice Editor: "Oh! Right oh! Okay! Good good! Break time already. That's great. I'll, ah, just wait here for you to finish that break then..."

    He waits for fifteen minutes while Britt and Al Ciao the Writers play a game over the company's LAN. Mr Nice Editor checks his watch.

    Mr Nice Editor: "How long was that break, guys?"

    Al Ciao the Writer: "BOOM! HA! I am totally awesome!"

    Britt the Writer:
    "Next match is mine..."

    Mr Nice Editor: "Another match, is it? Jolly good. I'll just... polish some brass for a while."

    Neither Writer acknowledges a word spoken by the new editor. He goes off to polish brass ornaments.

    Britt: The Legend - Cont.

    Stan: "Okay, okay. I got it. You have somewhere to be. Just follow the path here all the way to that ominous castle there. Not the ominous castle with the gnarled towers, the one with the grotesque gargoyles. That's right. And be careful, those gargoyles like to crap on unsuspecting visitors."

    Britt: "Thanks for the warning."

    Stan waved a big hand at Britt and went back to herding the succubi, who started complaining that Britt was leaving. Saved by Satan was not something Britt had expected to put on his resumé. He followed the path as told. It extended out to a bridge that towered over Hell below. He saw pits of evil and torture that made him divert his eyes. It was hard to imagine anyone down here, let alone his friends. Huge monsters roamed the land, sometimes torturing stray souls. One massive eye, twice the size of Britt, rose up beside him. It looked at it and then, idly, the giant creature wandered off. Britt breathed deep and continued along the bridge until he found himself before the massive gate. There was, fortunately, a smaller, human-sized door that he could knock on. He eyes the gargoyles, who grumbled that they'd been spotted when they tried to gather above him, their backsides poised. The door swung open and a small imp ushered him inside and pointed to a circle on the ground. Britt stood on it, confused and, in a flash, he was teleported elsewhere. He stood in a long empty room with tall pillars and, at the far end, a huge throne made of human skulls. He approached the person seated there.

    Britt: "Uh... are you the Devil?"

    The woman threw back her black veil and crossed her, now bare, leg over the other. Her skin was stark white, far paler than any Caucasian human. All down her leg is a tattoo that likely went the rest of the way up her body to extend to the tattoo that extended up her neck and then covered her, otherwise, beautiful face with a tattoo mask of death - skull-like, black marks etched into her skin. Her hair is also white, verging on pale grey, and long, draping over her shoulders. She wore a black white, sleek dress over her tattooed body that might have looked appropriate at an evening party of the 21st century. Its cuts revealed her leg to one side and a low cut to her cleavage, revealing more tattooed skin. To match, she wore a pair of crystal high-heeled shoes on her dainty feet. From behind her come two tattered and worn out wings. Moulted, old and weathered they move creakingly, as though rarely used or thought of. She stared at Britt with steel blue eyes that almost glowed in the darkness of the room.

    Lucyifer: "I am Lucyfer and I am the one you seek."

    Britt: "Lucifer? I think I heard about him from the priests. Isn't Lucifer a fallen angel?"

    Lucyfer sighed and waggled her limp wings.

    Britt: "Ah right. Of course. So... Lucifer is a woman! The priests'll love that you know? Roman Catholics are really... kind of sexist."

    Lucyfer smiled.

    Lucyfer: "Well, well. I think I like your attitude. I've always said atheists belong in Hell."

    Britt: "I think a few feminists would prefer to come here instead of being under a patriarch upstairs too."

    Lucyfer laughed. It was the laugh of a woman in charge. Powerful, comfortable to the user but not comforting to the listener.

    Britt: "I never expected the Devil to be so... attractive. Yet terrifying."

    Lucyfer smiled again.

    Lucyfer: "It's a pleasure to know I still have some effect on mortal men. But tell me. Why are you here?"

    Britt: "A friend of mine sold her soul to you, apparently. I've come to find out why."

    Lucyfer: "And try to bargain for her soul, I presume? This should be fun. What is your friend's name, human?"

    Britt: "Ms. Deep."

    Lucyfer: "Aha. Those are sweet tears I shall never forget."

    Britt found it hard to imagine Ms. Deep crying.

    Lucyfer: "She is a great asset to me. One of my very own souls, bound not to Hell but to me and me alone. Your bargain had better be a powerful one."

    Britt: "But... why did she sell her soul? Why would she possibly do that?"

    Lucyfer: "I'm pretty sure there's some confidentiality clause on the contract..."

    Britt looked downcast.

    Lucyfer: "But I'm the Devil, so ***** it. She sold her soul to save the life of her brother. He was diagnosed with cancer when he was nine-years-old. One his tenth birthday he was hospitalised and expected to die that day. He was as brave as a little boy could be. But he still cried. Cried for his mother. Cried for his big sister. Your friend was already a gangster's bodyguard. What had she to lose? She threw her lot in with me. I saved the boy and, from the wreckage, the boy not only recovered but recovered fitter and stronger than ever before. He's now able to tap into the latent magic that lurked within his family's genetics. Off to train at the Magium and become a great... wizard? I have no idea what they call themselves."

    Britt: "So she... did it to save her brother..."

    Britt knew Ms. Deep couldn't have been so deluded to throw her soul away for nothing. He could well imagine, after that fact, she went and cleaned up her act, joined the government and became a force for good. American good at least. But something twigged in Britt's mind.

    Britt: "You know... I'm an ordained priest?"

    Lucyfer readjusted herself in her throne as she licked her lips at him.

    Lucyfer: "Excellent. I'm going to enjoy abusing someone as pure as you. Though an atheist priest seems like an oxymoron to me."

    Britt: "It kind of is. I consider myself to be more of an honorary priest. But I did have to sit down and read a few rules. And one thing that comes to mind is the whole concept of sacrifice..."

    Lucyfer's happy demeanour suddenly dropped.

    Britt: "If someone sacrifice's themselves, then they go to Heaven, right? Signing the rights of one's soul is effectively the same thing, surely?"

    Lucyfer: "It was a pact made between myself and the client, it is none of Heaven's business."

    Britt: "Are you sure about that?"

    Lucyfer smiled again, but this time it was cruel.

    Lucyfer: "If God Almighty truly cared, wouldn't your friend be in Heaven right now?"

    Britt: "Since coming down here I've had this itching all over me. I realised what it was when Stan hit my arm. Heaven came with me."

    Light blossomed beside Britt and Lucyfer shielded her eyes from the glare of the holy light.

    God: "Lucy, it would seem you've been playing tricks again..."

    Lucyfer growled openly at God.

    Lucyfer: "I've just taken a leaf from your book, Father. Contracts are a means to power. I'll have them and then... there'll be a day of reckoning."

    God: "Actually... there won't. You've broken the terms of your own contract, Lucy. Breaking the Divine Laws means you have not been fulfilling your role as Devil. When I gave you that throne, I expected to get a true Devil, worthy of the new Story we're coming into. But now I realise I need a different kind of adversary..."

    Lucyfer: "No! You can't--!"

    Lucyfer is propelled back into her throne with a single glare from God. Apparently he didn't like fallen angels telling him what he can and cannot do. God opened his hand and a contract appeared. Then it went up in flames.

    God: "You will return to your former duties as a prince of Hell, rather than its king."

    Britt: "And Ms. Deep?"

    God: "She can go to Heaven. You are right, it was self-sacrifice for another. The Devil's contract stated she wasn't to be making such contracts that break my rules for mortal man. In older days such a contract would have been acceptable and would have taken precedence, but these days I'm keeping a tighter reign over Hell and the one appointed as Devil."

    Britt: "Better to reign in Hell and Heaven?"

    God: "You might say that."

    Lucyfer then laughed.

    Lucyfer: "Fine. Whatever. You win. But that one is now mine."

    She held out her hand and Britt felt himself aetherially dragged through the room and was then in Lucyfer's arms. She looked down at him.

    Lucyfer: "I am going to have you in ways you never imagined..."

    Britt: "Uh... you don't have teeth do you?"

    She frowned for a moment before it dawned on her.

    Lucyfer: "I am not a succubus."

    Britt: "Thank God! Then I think I'm happy with this fate."

    She smiled maliciously and gave a light chuckle before her voice grew menacing.

    Lucyfer: "Trust me, the pleasure will be all mine."

    She yanked his neck, causing pain to shoot through his skull.

    God: "Actually... technically Britt did all of this out of... well, self-sacrifice. He's free to return to Heaven."

    God snapped his fingers and Britt was teleported to stand beside God again. Lucyfer's anger was about to boil over, she physically clenched her fists in frustration.

    Lucyfer: "No! He's mine! You can't take him from me! He did this to me! He will p--"

    God: "No... he will return with me to Heaven."

    Britt pulled a tongue at her.

    Lucyfer: "Wait... you haven't stripped me of my rank yet. My last act! I will grant your pet life again!"

    God: "What?"

    She extended her hand, long and sharp nails in a clutching motion. Britt felt himself shaking unnaturally. Then he rose up into the air, as did Lucyfer.

    Lucyfer: "Return to your life, human. But remember, I'll be there at the end of it. I will find a way to claim you and you'll be all mine."

    Britt: "It'll be in my interest not to get killed then, eh?"

    She drew close to him.

    Lucyfer: "Better men have tried."

    Britt: "And did you want their souls?"

    She cocked her head.

    Lucyfer: "No?"

    Britt: "Then how can they be better than me? God and the Devil are fighting over my soul. Hahaha!"

    Lucyfer, however, laughed too. She drew in to his ear.

    Lucyfer: "You wouldn't know this. But as Prince of Hell, my deadly sin... is pride."

    As he panicked he was lifted up and she called out from below him.

    Lucyfer: "I look forward to seeing you again... Britticus the Sleeper!"


    Britt sat bolt upright with a gasp. The Patriot was holding the piece of ceiling that had landed on him.

    The Patriot: "Whoa. How are you still alive, pal? No normal guy could survive that!"

    Britt smirked.

    Britt: "I guess I'm no ordinary g--"

    He paused and thought. If there was one deadly sin he'd have to try and drop it was that one. He got to his feet and considered. There were a few individuals Britt knew who were immortal... more so than Britt now was. If he could find a way to cheat death...

    Britt: "We need to get back to Earth and bury Ms. Deep... she died one of the most honourable people I've ever met."

    The Patriot rose an eyebrow.

    The Patriot: "I guess you know her better than I do..."

    Britt: "I do..."


    Britt checked out his blue trenchcoat. All mended and not a patch to be seen. He put it on. Thousands of years old and it still fit like a glove. Under the trenchcoat he wore a broad-collared, sky blue shirt that was open to reveal plenty of 70s chest hair. He wore a pair of white flares and platform shoes, though the platform was fairly small. The Patriot, who had handed him the coat, saluted and Britt saluted back.

    Britt: "Team's all yours now, fella. It's a shame you'll need an all new roster."

    The Patriot: "That's alright. Probably for the best. I can get the exact team I need. I wish you were staying though..."

    They shook hands, but Britt winced from The Patriot's firm grip until he let go. Britt wrung his unfortunate hand.

    Britt: "Sorry dude, I have other kinds of work ahead of me now. Kaptin Kwanza's decided living aboard that ship of his is where he belongs. Can't blame him really, he's followed me around for long enough I think. Wish he had a better name for that ship though..."

    The Patriot: "Well, now you have your robot to follow you around instead."

    Winters trotted over to them and saluted but her long sleeve slapped her in the face. The Patriot shook his head but Britt just laughed.

    Britt: "Kind of like having her around. This time she's going to be my new butler or something. Don't want to drag her into trouble again."

    Winters: "But Trouble's my middle name, Master Britt!"

    Britt: "It is, you're right. But that's because you're so inept you're Trouble to everyone around you."

    Winters: "I...! I don't understand."

    Britt patted her shoulder. Eagerly she grabbed a bag of Britt's. Her robot strength meant she barely noticed the weight and Britt decided being gentlemanly to a super-strong robot would be a wasted gesture.

    Britt: "Oh wait. One last thing. I have a candidate for you to consider. He's a magic user. Incredible levels of talent I've been told by the Magium fellas..."


    It was May 1975 Britt held his hand to blot out the bright sun of the Egyptian sky. Although the British war in Egypt had been twenty years ago, tempers towards the British were still fairly hot from time to time. Fortunately British ships were helping the Egyptians clear the Suez Canal, the same area Britain had fought over all that time ago, of mines laid during the last Egyptian war just a few years earlier. This meant Britt was welcome enough at most places. The fact that he was working at the Barkeep at a local pub also meant most drinkers considered him their best friend. But the bar was just his source of income to pay the bills and keep Winters well oiled. His real reason for being in Egypt was the secretive building named the Great Library. It's door only appeared for those who knew where to look and inside was a temple of knowledge from across the entire multiverse. It's many doors inside would open and lead to new and exciting Stories, worlds and worlds of knowledge. But Britt was here for one purpose alone. He had to figure out how to survive death and avoid the clutches of his new best friend.

    He walked up the stone steps and opened the doors to the Great Library. The building should have been obvious to anyone, standing proud and tall in the middle of Egypt. And yet nobody could see it, nobody noticed it. No cameras, no magics, no psychics could see the building - unless they knew it was there. Britt entered and before long he was sat in his usual spot with a mountain of books. He was sat there for five minutes before he noticed a figure sat beside him, her legs up on the table. She had, somehow, developed a psychic connection between him and herself. Nobody else could see or detect her because she wasn't really there. She was in his mind, like a bad seed.

    Lucyfer: "What book is it today, my love?"

    Britt rolled his eyes and tried to ignore her.

    Lucyfer: "Oh, are you in a mood with me again? And we had such friendly talks the last time!"

    Britt: "Last time I was alone. And drunk. Now I'm in a public place and very sober."

    He glanced around to make sure no one thought he was crazy. Fortunately there was only one other person at a table nearby and he was wearing Mickey Mouse headphones, complete with ridiculous big ears.

    Lucyfer: "I like it when you're drunk. You're much more fun!"

    Britt: "And much more distracted from these books."

    Lucyfer: "You can't cheat your way out of it, Britt. You'll come to me, one way or another."

    She leant over and stroked his neck.

    Lucyfer: "Come on, baby. I promise I'm not angry any more. I'll be nice to you..."

    Then her hand gripped his neck and started to choke him.

    Lucyfer: "...from time to time!"

    She grinned maliciously as she bore down on him. He struggled and squirmed in his seat but couldn't pull her hands from his throat. She smiled down at him as she started to climb on him, putting all her weight behind her.

    Britt: "Stop..."

    Lucyfer: "What, baby? I can't hear you."

    Britt: "Stop..."

    Lucyfer: "Louder, Britticus. I still can't he--"

    Britt: "STOP!!!"

    His voice rang out through the reading room as Lucyfer was suddenly gone and he was alone. Britt panicked and glanced around again. Only the Mickey Mouse guy was there still and he was continually engrossed in his music. Britt breathed deeply. He knew her attacks were psychic and yet his body registered everything physically. If she scratched him, his body was scratched, if she kissed him, his lips were wet. The word psychopath didn't even begin to describe the monster that yearned for revenge against him. He opened the book he had laid out.

    Voice: "Researching immortality? Many have tried, my friend... few have succeeded."

    Britt looked up and sparks of recognised flowed. The man stood beside Britt smiled.

    Britt: "Mustang! How... how are you alive?"

    Mustang removed his Mickey Mouse headphones and sat down.

    Mustang: "When I saw you and realised immortality was possible... let's just say I did what you're doing now. Research. I found a way."

    Britt: "You have to tell me. Although... you look a little... worse for wear..."

    Mustang: "I am lich now. I am undead. My soul is not my own. That was the price of my immortality. But, you must tell me, how you achieved immortality! And why now you're looking into immortality..."

    Britt: "Let's just say it no longer applies. And, unfortunately, undead won't do it for me. The one thing I need to keep safe is my soul. That's all."

    Mustang smiled.

    Mustang: "Then, my old friend, the solution is simple. Your body is not the object of import, then you do it the old fashioned way..."

    Britt listened and learned.

    He still had much more learning and training to do and he would remain so until, finally, he had his way. His own blood was unique and he could live on through even the smallest drop. He could store a vial away somewhere and, should the worst happen, have it injected, by Winters, into someone else. It was grim, and a method that ought to put him in Hell anyway but it was his only choice to escape the cruelty that awaited him...

    And as he sat, pouring over pages of ancient alien tomes, his Story came to its end. The world was changing, the Story was changing. The Negotiator, or God, stood and watched the Earth from his Heavenly realm. Dust began to settle on the Chapters of Britt: The Legend and all would fall still and silent until a new Story was born to shake off that Dust. Until the Never-ending Story was a reality and, never again, would Dust descend...
    'Britt: The Legend', written by Nostradamus, slammed shut and dust exploded from its pages. Arkng Thand placed it down on his library table. It seems there is still much for one as old as Thand to learn about the world he lives in. Britt is a wild card in the story, and one Thand doesn't think entirely suitable. He hadn't finished the book when he met Britt in NeShattered and allowed him to continue his acquaintance with Gebohq. Now he regrets that decision and wonders if he should have removed Britt from play. What would Britt do to regain his lost Story? What would he do to escape a fate much worse than death? So many puzzle pieces emerge from the Dust of Britt's tale and only time would likely piece that puzzle together.

    Voice: "THAND!"

    Arkng Thand tilts his head as he hears a voice shouting from outside the house. Bellowing his name. Thand walks through the rooms until he comes the front balcony, presiding over the lawns of the White House. It isn't like nobody knows where he is these days but the voice is a voice he didn't expect to be hearing for a long time.

    On the lawn is Antestarr, restrained by guards. Likely the NeSferatu could have beaten his way through them but he is showing reserve. That's nice of him.

    Arkng Thand: "Allow Antestarr to enter."

    Thrawn42689: "As you wish..."

    The one to kill Britt in the end. One that contains Britt's blood forever within his veins... just happens to show up now?

    Arkng Thand: "Uncanny timing..."

  16. #1896
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Freeeeeedoooooom!

    In the cells of Isla de Morte, Miss Fire groans quietly to herself. She is kneeling in the centre of the room and looking very groggy, one hand clutching her chest. She's only woken up a short time ago, after being beaten to unconsciousness. However her condition is now catching up with her. Her heart is a mechanical one and requires electricity to continue pumping. A finger in a plug socket would do the trick well enough, but being cooped up in a prison cell meant there were no mains available. She stares through the bars. The world appears topsy-turvy and wobbles about as her heart slowly fails.

    She sees a guard come to watch her, but he doesn't help. He just frowns. She then hears the voice of Iriana Emp in the next cell and the guard becomes distracted. He then starts shouting.

    Guard: "Who let the prison have a cup of tea!?"

    Miss Fire crawls to the bars. She wants to stop the guard entering Iriana's cell but there's nothing she can do about it. She peers through a gap and watches the guard go in. A second later the guard comes out. Flying at full force into the opposite jail where he crumples against the bars. Miss Fire is inwardly shocked, but incapable of expressing such an emotion with her numb body. Iriana daintily exits her cell, totters over to the guard and finds his keys. She opens the closest cell, which is Evil G's. He comes out and drags the guard inside it where they lock the door. Iriana then starts opening cells, one-by-one until she gets to Miss Fire's.

    Iriana Emp: "Oh my... you look like you need a cup of Earl Grey, my dear."

    She opens the door. The next thing Miss Fire knows she's being carried by a man. They take her into the guards' room. A scuffle ensues and Miss Fire is deposited on a desk. She reaches out and find the cable connected to the back of the PC. She unplugs it and starts chewing the wire...


    Amal: "Are you okay, Iriana?"

    Iriana Emp smiles and nods.

    Amal: "How... did you beat that guard?"

    Iriana didn't get a chance to reply as the room plunges into darkness. Behind them there's sparking and, finally, a bang. The light comes back on, as someone in the building flipped the mains back on. Miss Fire is standing on the desk and looks quite angry.

    Miss Fire: "Let's get our gear and shoot our way out of here."

    Al Ciao, who has painted the Scottish flag on his face, roars and runs from the room towards the TLTEs guarding the prison block.

  17. #1897
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    On the Isla de Morte, TLTE has reached the foot of Mount Zlo. He hears the sounds of fighting and shooting in the distance behind him, and wonders briefly if he should investigate. But no - he should focus on his objective.

    TLTE the Unimaginative Door Guard: Halt! Who goes there!

    TLTE: It is I, TLTE the Really a Beta Clone in Disguise!

    TLTE the Unimaginative Door Guard: Very good, sir. And the password?

    TLTE: 'The fat lady sings tonight'.

    TLTE the Unimaginative Door Guard: Very good, sir. You may proceed.

    The imposing metal doors slide open, revealing two spiral stairways, one leading to each penthouse at the top.

    TLTE: Er... which stairs should I go up? The ones to the Brutal Belfry of Brutality, or to the Tyrannical Tower of Tyranny?

    TLTE the Unimaginative Door Guard: I've no idea, sir. Lord Vice is like Schrodinger's Cat - he is simultaneously in both and neither penthouse, until someone actually opens the door to one.

    TLTE: What? I can see how that would discourage enemies, but why not make it simpler for us?

    TLTE the Unimaginative Door Guard: I believe Lord Vice prefers it that way. Leaves him to his privacy.

    Grumbling, TLTE starts trudging up the steps to the Brutal Belfry of Brutality. At the top is the ornate door leading to the penthouse. As the Russian agent puts his hand to the door, he pauses briefly. Will this encounter be solved with words, or by force?

    TLTE: Answer me, Answerer! Do you know me for who I am?

    He has flung open the doors as he says this... only to find himself speaking to an empty penthouse.

    TLTE: Borscht. I do NOT want to climb back down and up fifty flights of stairs again.

    He espies the view out of the 'eye' of the skull into which Mount Zlo is shaped, and a thought occurs to him.

    TLTE: Hmm... perhaps I could climb across the mountain face and enter through the other 'eye'. Might be faster.

    And more dangerous.

    TLTE: Da, but what is life without danger?

    More danger, fewer stairs, eh?

    TLTE: This is so.

    But even as TLTE approaches the window, the glass shatters as four figures come hurtling through it. It is the four members of the Alscott family! These hapless tourists were on the boat with the NeS heroes... but now are dressed in flamboyant and colorful costumes.

    Mr. Fabulous: Surrender, evildoer!

    TLTE: Who are you?

    Mrs. Fabulous: Why, we're the Fabulous Family, of course!

    Mr. Fabulous: Now reassigned as Hero Force Five. I'm the heroic team leader, the super-strong Mr. Fabulous!

    Mrs. Fabulous: And I'm his wife, the super-stretchy Mrs. Fabulous!

    Fabulous Boy: And I'm the super-fast Fabulous Boy!

    Fabulous Girl: And I'm the super-invisible Fabulous Goth!

    The other three Fabulous Family members look at her. Mrs. Fabulous coughs delicately.

    Fabulous Girl: Oh, come on, Mom! I'm almost a teenager! Fabulous Girl makes me sound like a kid!

    TLTE: So... you're ripoffs of the Incredibles?

    The Fabulous Family look offended.

    Mr. Fabulous: Certainly not! They were just ripoffs of the Fantastic Four!

    Fabulous Boy: Who in turn were ripoffs of the Justice League.

    Mrs. Fabulous: Who themselves were probably ripping off the ancient Greek legend of Jason and the Argonauts!

    TLTE: Right. Well, I'm afraid your foe isn't here--

    Mr. Fabulous: He's trying to confuse us with a mind trick! GET HIM!

    TLTE: No, wait! I'm not--

    But the Fabulous Family have already leapt into action!
    Last edited by Al Ciao; 09-23-2015 at 06:52 AM.

  18. #1898
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Mall

    Tracer opens his eyes.

    Which dimension is he in now? He has travelled between different realities ever since his being was split by the damaged portal linking the 8th Dimension to the dilapidated and non-too-secret Secret Base of MZZT in Elizabeth Tower. He'd met several versions of the NeS Heroes, each with incredibly unique and unusual characteristics. He has run the constant risk of being separated from the "whole". The "in-synch" essence of Tracer with the connected alternate realities. At any point, his course could have deviated from the similar narrative and he would have been trapped forever in that dimension.

    A moment ago he had helped drag Ms Fire from her cell and gave her a bottle of Mountain Dew to sustain her vitals. She had been injured many Pages ago but was cured - but at the cost of constantly drinking Mountain Dew to keep her alive. They had battled with the clones of TFTE - The Final True Evil - and were preparing to leave the cellblock. Then he had felt that familiar click. There was nothing so dramatic as a bright swirling light. No pounding sound as the dimensions locked into place. Just a small click when his eyes closed. He opens them now and finds himself in the next universe.

    Losien: "Is everyone ready? I can hear them on the other side of this door."

    She seems just like the Losien he knew from his own dimension. Same beautiful face. Same, soft timbre of the voice. Even the perfect cut of her hair is just as he remembered her. He admires Losien for a long moment. Then he sees the rest of the group. They all looked like his own people. Could... it be?

    Tracer: "Am I really back?"

    Everyone stares at him, judging him. Some glance at each other for confirmation.

    Amal: "Uh... you look like our Tracer. But... maybe you're a Tracer from a really similar dimension? Like one where you have chest hair."

    Tracer: "I do have chest hair!"

    Amal: "Okay, well this might be the dimension where you don't have chest hair. I don't know how we could check."

    Evil G: "Anyone got nude pics of Tracer?"

    Most groan at Evil G. Subaru looks sheepish.

    Losien: "You look like our Tracer and for now that's enough. But we have to get out of here. Then we'll figure out how to keep you here. We'll call MZZT."

    Tracer: "Right..."

    Losien: "Are you okay, Tracer? Are you up to this?"

    Tracer: "Always."

    He had long decided he would be Losien's rock. That solid guardian. He absence from her side felt like a betrayal. He had tried to be that same rock for other Losiens in each dimension, but none of them seemed worthy of the same respect as his Losien. His Losien needed him. She has the strength and power within, but needed the strength of others to exude her own strength. She couldn't manage alone and he worried she may have lost that new-found confidence without his support. He found it ironic that she is now seeking to support him. Perhaps she is the wrong Losien still and he isn't home?

    Amal: "I think I hear... a drill."

    Frank Smith: "Maybe they're blocking the door? I could time-hop out there and check?"

    Losien: "No, Frank. We're stronger together."

    Miss Fire: "Let's just get out there and **** them!"

    Miss Fire looks like she's been snorting cocaine. She hops on the spot, ready to run through the door as soon as it's ajar. Tracer wonders if Ms Fire from the previous dimension had somehow jumped with him. Apparently all the Miss Fire variants no need something to keep themselves jacked up. He's worried about what this Miss Fire is in need of.

    Losien: "Okay. On the count of three."

    Evil G: "Pull up your socks and grab your c--"

    Losien: "ONE!"

    Evil G: "Ruined my line..."

    Losien: "Two..."

    Miss Fire: "THREEEE!!!"

    Losien throws open the door and Miss Fire leaps over Losien to get through the door first.


    Everyone else rushes after her. Everyone skids to a stop in complete confusion.

    Subaru: "Why are we standing in an Apple store?"

    An Apple employee approaches them and asks if he can help. They rush out of the store and find themselves in the middle of a shopping mall.

    Losien: "Was... this always here?"

    Tracer: "Wait... I think I know what happened..."

    Iriana Emp: "I should really instil the superiority of tea to the staff in that Starbucks. Coffee. That's just another word for mud."

    Subaru: "Wow. There's a sushi restaurant..."

    Frank Smith: "Actually, some of that Apple tech looks like it could out-strip some of the tech of the future..."

    Tracer: "This is Vice's most nefarious technique! The Capitalist Empire's most powerful weapon! Build a shopping mall around your unsuspecting enemies!!!"

    He turns around in panic. Everyone is gone.

    Tracer: "Oh damn..."

  19. #1899

    Making a President

    Meanwhile (NeS count: in the midst of a recount due to undesirable polling results), within the Oval Office of the White House in the capital of the United States of America, President Arkng Thand places the tome of "Britt the Legend" back on a bookshelf. As he does so, two Secret Service men escort the NeSferatu, Antestarr, into the room.

    President Thand: "Thank you, gentlemen. You may return to your posts."

    Secret Service Man #1: "With all due respect, sir, this thing is obviously dangerous. You'll need our security."

    President Thand: "Your security would not be enough against Antestarr here, should he have chosen to use force. He was once a student of mine. This requires diplomacy, which I will handle. Leave us in privacy."

    He sits down in his Oval Office chair, then waves a hand of dismissal. The Secret Service men reluctantly step out of the office, closing the door behind them and leaving Antestarr standing before President Thand.

    Antestarr: "I'm surprised you haven't turned me into an ice cream cone or something yet."

    President Thand: "Would you prefer as sugar cone or the waffle kind?"

    Antestarr: "The kind filled with scoops of answers, and hold the sprinkles of cryptic nonsense, if you will."

    The NeSferatu scowls to punctuate his pithy response. President Thand leans back into his chair, any altruistic kindness in his countenance evaporating and leaving only his usual aloofness.

    President Thand: "You must be in desperate need if you're turning to me for aid."

    Antestarr: "Britt. He once tended the bar for Venedite. He now inhabits the body of a female clone from the Cult of X."

    President Thand: "Yes, I'm familiar with Britt. His legends shed light on many fascinating facets of the NeS."

    Antestarr: "I presume you know where Britt is at this time."

    President Thand: "When you presume, you make a president out of you and me."

    The NeSferatu blinks in confusion.

    President Thand: "Do you not want to know more where your friend, Gebohq, might be?"

    Antestarr: "I'm fairly sure that he is with Britt."

    President Thand: "And yet you ask about Britt. Tell me your interest in him."

    Antestarr: "Don't play stupid with me! You know full well--"

    He stops as he finds himself with his hands down on President Thand's desk. He backs away.

    Antestarr: "Of course. You're asking me to prove myself, like old times."

    The NeSferatu begins pacing back and forth.

    Antestarr: "In my need for bloodink as a NeSferatu, I sensed a high potency in Britt. I drank the bloodink from him. At first, I took the strength of his bloodink for simply a Writer inserting themselves into the NeS, but I learned the truth later. He once had been a Main Character, before the NeS. He wished to become one once more, and I wish for the NeS to be free from the Writers. Simply put, he is my key to ending the rule of the Writers over us."

    President Thand: "You've plotted many times to free the story from the Writers, from creating Young to coercing Losien into rising as the Main Character. How is this different?"

    The NeSferatu stops in place.

    Antestarr: "This is different because I'm committed. Truly committed. Britt's blood still flows through my veins. I am still here thanks to that."

    President Thand: "You feel indebted to him?"

    Antestarr remains silent.

    President Thand: "And you learned all this by chance?"

    Antestarr: "By searching and finding Chance, Young's child. A child brought there by Morthrandur..."

    The NeSferatu stands idle in thought.

    President Thand: "Well, as it so happens, I know where both Britt and Gebohq can be found. They're both in the Shattered Realm, seeking the source of the Ever-ending Plot."

    Antestarr's eyes widen.

    President Thand: "I trust you can find your own way there, yes? I'd hope that I taught you well enough for that."

    Antestarr: "What do you want in return?"

    President Thand: "Back off."

    Antestar: "Excuse me?..."

    Realization slowly dawns over Antestarr.

    President Thand: "Back off from your plots. Your attempts to free the NeS from the Writers will backfire, and they will kill the story you claim you so care for. Go back to helping your friends, like you once did."

    The NeSferatu starts backing away from Thand in a defensive manner.

    Antestarr: "Didn't you always preach to me how people don't change? That there was no redemption from sin? I must be interfering with your own machinations if you've suggested such a thing to me. What are you up to, Master? What draws you out from the dreams and hiding places into the public eye?"

    President Thand sits still, watching Antestarr move to a table with a drinking glass.

    Antestarr: "I can't leave you with a promise, so I'll leave with something better..."

    Using his sharp nails, the NeSferatu slits one of his wrists, and allows a small amount of bloodink into the glass.

    Antestarr: ""

    With a puff of smoke, Antestarr suddenly turns into a bat and flies away. The window remains closed and thick, and Antestarr smacks rather sadly a few times into it.

    Antestarr: "Uh...mind opening the window for me?"
    Last edited by Gebohq; 10-17-2015 at 07:35 PM.

  20. #1900

    Fabulous Fight

    The focus swoops back to Isla de Morte, towards Mount Zlo, on the penthouse level of the Brutal Belfry of Brutality, one of two identical towers within the mountainous eye sockets caved in the rock face. The Last True Evil squares off against the Alscotts, known also as the Fabulous Family and recently-made Hero Force Five division, as they leap to attack him.

    The Last True Evil side-steps and subtlely sticks his foot out as he stares at the three visible Alscotts. The speedy Fabulous Boy rushes with near-imperceptible velocity, and due to watching The Last True Evil's eyes, the boy trips over his foot and spirals into the wall.

    Three visible Alscotts quickly become two, and as The Last True Evil trips the boy, he grabs what appears to be thin air and hurls it at Mrs. Fabulous, the form of Fabulous Goth indenting itself into Mrs. Fabulous and knocking the two of them off-balance.

    Just after The Last True Evil finishes hurling Fabulous Goth, Mr. Fabulous lands a punch square in The Last True Evil's face. The Last True Evil flies from the force into a distant wall. He holds his head as if waking up from a particularly rough night of no sleep. As Mr. Fabulous continues to charge, ready to deliver another haymaker punch, The Last True Evil rolls out of the way and into the many shadows in the penthouse floor.

    The Fabulous Family reassembles, sillouetted by the large broken windows serving as the only light source. As they keep their eyes peeled, the Fabulous Family fails to notice The Last True Evil having snuck up from behind them, terrifying tentacles growing from him and around them.

    The Last True Evil glances to his side, outside the window to the other tower, then back at the Fabulous Family, then at the broken glass on the floor. The tentacles disappear, and he feigns a sneaky escape, stepping purposely on one of the glass pieces. The Fabulous Family immediately turns around, and he raises his arms in surrender.

    The Last True Evil: "I give up! Please, show mercy!"

    Mr. Fabulous: "We're not here to kill you. We're heroes, after all. We're here to bring you to the proper authorities and be tried in international court of law."

    The Last True Evil: "Of course. All of the files detailing my many crimes are in my personal computer... in the other tower."

    Mrs. Fabulous: "You're coming with us. If there are any traps, it'll be less likely you would spring them if you're with us."

    The Last True Evil: "A wise precaution."

    He hold out his hands, which Fabulous Goth snaps together with handcuffs. Mr. Fabulous pushes a button, and a hovering pod floats next to the broken window. The five of them step aboard the flying pod before it zooms over to the penthouse floor of the Tyrannical Tower of Tyranny, where they proceed to break in the same way they did before except with The Last True Evil under Mr. Fabulous's arm. The family stops in surprise as they see what appears to be another TLTE to them -- actually Vice himself -- who in turn stares back at them in surprise. Mr. Fabulous drops The Last True Evil in his confusion.

    Mr. Fabulous: "What's going on here?"

    Vice: "I was about to ask the same thing."

    The Last True Evil: "Thanks for the ride."

    Sharp tentacles jut through each of the Fabulous Family's torsos. Each of their eyes widen, then go dead. The tentacles flick their dead bodies back onto the hovering pod before retracting back into The Last True Evil. His hands still handcuffed, he manages to pull out an automatic pistol and fires the whole clip at the hovering pod. The pod bursts into flames as it falls out of view. The Last True Evil tosses the pistol out of the window. He turns to Vice, drawing a pick from his wrist and unlocking his handcuffs.

    The Last True Evil: "Apologies for the window, Answerer. I need to talk to you."

    Vice: "You're not one of my men."

    He ignites his red lightsaber.

    The Last True Evil: "I'm better than your men, and I'm here to make a deal with you."

    The lightsaber remains pointed at The Last True Evil for a moment, then Vice withdraws the energy blade and sits at his desk.

    Vice: "You have my attention..."

  21. #1901

    A Prospect for Vice

    Two evil men examine each other in the penthouse office floor of the Tyrannical Tower of Tyranny. One of them, who calls himself Vice, resembles the Emperor from Star Wars, wearing a black robe over his power suit. The other, known as The Last True Evil, resembles just about any stereotypical Soviet spy, donned in black fatigues. Their faces nearly mirror each other, both clones of a man long since passed, though Vice is significantly older than his middle-aged counterpart.

    Vice leans back in an executive chair as he waits for what The Last True Evil has to say.

    The Last True Evil: "You and I have a mutual interest, yes? To dispose of the so-called 'heroes' that stand in our plots for total conquest."

    Vice: "Yes, we do. And I must confess, I did not expect you to join forces with me. After all, I am after profit, to indulge only my own greed for power. You stand for Communism, to indulge...?"

    The Last True Evil: "My drive to bring the very story to its knees. Attacking the story has become my knack, and your knack for profit is exactly what will indulge both our needs. I propose we bribe our way to victory."

    Vice: "You're suggesting we hire mercenaries to defeat the heroes?"

    The Last True Evil: "Nothing so limiting, comrade. I'm suggesting we hire Writers to write towards our interests."

    Vice: "What are you talking about?"

    The Last True Evil: "Hear me out. The proposal goes like so:


    For the next forty posts (or the end of page 49, whichever comes first), each and every writer will be paid five dollars ($5 USD) for writing their first story post. The only requirement for the story post must be that its content somehow helps the characters Vice or The Last True Evil in their goal to control The Never-ending Story Thread for their own ends. This could take the form of new villains entering the scene, the heroes stuck in the midst of bad writing that threatens to ruin the story, or the often-used "nukes blow up the world" method. There is no minimum word requirement or minimum writing skill required, and this offer extends to both past writers as well as new ones. Past efforts included a villainous knockoff of The Terminator, the hero finding true love, and attacks from spam. For ideas to work with, try reading from the top of this latest page.

    The most important thing is to have fun writing your post in a way that you think other readers and writers will have fun with too!

    If a writer wishes to be paid another five dollars ($5 USD) for their second post, that second post must also somehow agree and add to a previous post not of their own. For instance, if someone writes that their new villain shoots at one of the heroes, you could write that the villain's shot hits the hero in the leg, and that the hero limps away.

    Any additional posts written will not be paid for on their own, though they will help your chances for a final sum of money after the forty posts (or the end of page 49) have been reached. At this point, all the writers will be included for selection in an open poll to vote on who their favorite author in those forty posts had been. The winner will receive an additional ten dollars ($10 USD) plus a dollar for each writer above ten writers (up to a total of $40 USD). If you want the big pot, encourage others to write!

    First post = $5 USD
    Second post = an additional $5 USD
    Popular vote winner = an additional $10-$40 USD

    Payment will be done through Paypal or in a manner agreed upon between the writer and Gebohq. Gebohq, Al Ciao, and TheBritt are not eligible for any of the above, nor count towards the forty posts.

    Reading this current page of the Never-ending Story Thread is suggested to understand style and inspire ideas, but not required in the least. Having fun in writing a wacky story scene is the key!

    For questions of registration, rules clarification, or rudimentary understanding of the story, contact with the words "NeS Vice" included in the subject line. Frequently Asked Questions can also be found in this NeS workshop post.

    And to emphasis, the most important part is to have (evil) fun!
    Vice: "Well that's weird. I have no idea what's going on now."

    The Last True Evil: "Neither will anyone else, especially the heroes!"

    A moment passes as Vice considers.

    Vice: "As the Westerners would say, let's put one's money to where one's mouth is then, yes?"
    Last edited by Gebohq; 11-11-2015 at 11:39 AM.

  22. #1902
    Newb wakes up to find herself on the Isla de Morte with no idea where she is and no recollection of her life before this moment. Looking down she discovers she is dressed (thank god) in all black, grubby nails lay bare and bitten in the mud and her long her is a dull, grimy red. With a heave she stands, before her lies a colossal mountain with an unusual likeness to a skull. Pondering her sanity she scurries towards the mouth of the skull in the hope of finding TLTE, the only thing her fragile mind remembers.

    In the room of EVIL, TLTE looks out of the window to see his new recruit walking towards the mountain and goes to meet her.

    TLTE: You there! Girl! Hurry up I don’t have all day!

    Newb: Girl? pfft alright then 'booyyyy' what can I do you for? Do I know you?

    TLTE: Hmm … don’t you recognise me? I have a whole case file on you the least you can do is remember your boss! I have selected you to help us with my plan.

    Newb:Boss? Arrgghhh you must be TLTE then, I thought you looked familiar. Who’s us?
    TLTE:Well then … follow me dear girl.

    Newb:Enough with the girl already.

    With a huff Newb follows TLTE, resulting in a hefty climb up a large spiral staircase. At The top a door stands open, a shadow of a figure can be seen inside.

    TLTE:Darth Vice, meet Newb, my new recruit.

    Dath Vice eyes the woman before him for a short while, she is grubby to say the least, matted hair hangs limp around her pale features, bright green eyes stand alert. She holds herself with an obvious attitude problem, hand on hip eyes taking in the room, finally coming to rest upon him … and she gives him the stink eye right back!

    Newb:No need to introduce yourself ‘sir stare a lot’, nice room of evil you got here. Does it have a shower?

  23. #1903
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    Darth Vice: That's 'Darth Stare a Lot' to you, Little Miss Stink Eye.

    Newb: Well, excuuuuuse me!

    Darth Vice throws TLTE a sidelong glance. TLTE gives him a small tight smile, and passes him a manila folder.

    TLTE: Her case file.

    Newb: Oy! Lemme see that, might answer a few of my questions.

    Darth Vice raises an eyebrow at TLTE, as if to question that any redeeming factor might be found in the case file.

    TLTE: Just read it, Vice. Newb, you know agents aren't allowed to read their own casefile.

    Newb DIDN'T actually know that, having no recollection of her life before this moment, but adopts a grim smile and salutes.

    Newb: Aye, aye, Mister Mystery.

    Darth Vice: Impressive.

    He closes the manila folder that he's been rifling through and passes it back to TLTE. Newb eyes the folder longingly.

    TLTE: I thought so. Now, Agent, for your first mission...

  24. #1904
    Newb: If my first mission isn’t to shower I demand a refund …

    Darth Vice: It’s not just your eye that stinks then?

    Newb: Yes I stink congratulations however I can shower and smell good again. You on the other hand will always be a douche

    Darth Vice: HEY YOU CAN’T

    TLTE: Now now you pair enough of the bickering we have important business to attend to. Yes Newb you may go shower now, Darth Vice will show you to your room now

    Looking meaningfully at Darth Vice TLTE inclines his head towards Newb and smiles politely.

    Newb: Sigghhh come on then Darthy lets get gone!

    Darth Vice: If I must, follow me then Newb

    With Darth Vice in the lead Newb heads out of the room of EVIL and back down the spiral staircase. Somewhere along the way they go down a long narrow passageway and into a circular bedroom.

    Darth Vice: Here you go then Newb, this will be where you sleep for the entirety of your stay here. The shower is through that door over there. I bid you good night…Oh and a word of warning Newb, you may be part of a classified group in your case file but that doesn’t mean I won’t take you out of the picture should you not benefit us. That fool thinks he knows it all, but I’m watching…

    Newb: All right creeps if you say so, just so you know, between you and me, I have no idea what I’m capable of, I don’t remember. But push me, and I’m sure we’ll find out. Now BOG OFF!

    With a startle Darth Vice stalks out of Newbs room slamming the door behind him leaving Newb to her thoughts. Walking towards the bathroom Newb turns the shower on hot, and with a single tear rolling down her grimy face, she steps into the shower, the only thing to be heard are the sobs of the lost girl inside.

  25. #1905
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Banking

    In the new shopping mall elsewhere on Isla de Morte, Tracer glancing into the Starbucks and watches Iriana Emp chasing Starbuckes employees around the shop waving a cup of tea at them.


    Tracer decides to leave her to it. He has to consider his own safety.

    With everyone befuddled by consumerism, Darth Vice's ultimate weapon, Tracer has to figure out how to get them back on track. He walks by a shop selling ninja blades, pauses to admire them but refuses to give in to the inner urge to go inside and splurge on the Sakura Petal Ninja Blade Hidden Ostrich set. He finds Losien on a shopping spree down the fashion end of the mall. He knows exactly how to stop this... He sneaks in...

    Tracer: "Yoooooink."

    He waits outside until he hears her crying. When she comes out shame-faced he steps in front of her.

    Tracer: "Losien."

    She sniffles.

    Losien: "So embarrassing... I got all the way to the cashier... and then... I lost...."

    He holds up her card.

    Losien: "You... you... YOU STOLE MY CARD!!!?"

    Tracer: "For your own good!"

    After ten minutes of fleeing imminent death, Tracer slows down and is able to convince Losien to see through the trap of vice. Together they try to find the others. The first they find is Evil G at a bank. They surreptitiously sidle up behind him. He's sitting at a desk and speaking to a bank clerk about a mortgage.

    Bank Clerk: "Congratulations Mr G! You are now the proud owner of a mortgage! Your wife will be very happy, I'm sure."

    Losien: "Whoa..."

    Evil G: "Wh-What're you two doing here!?"

    Tracer: "This is a trap, Evil G. A capitalist trap!"

    Evil G: "I now own a nice apartment is downtown London. If this is a trap, it's a very nice one."

    Losien: "And how many years will it take you to pay off that loan?"

    Evil G: "Uh... a few... lifetimes?"

    Tracer: "And how much interest did you sign up for?"

    Evil G: "Not that much?"

    Bank Clerk: "Well, given your past discrepancies as a supervillain there is an additional interest spike because, you know, you may turn evil again and try not to pay us. Or low us up. Or something."

    Tracer: "I think he's lost, Losien. We should leave him behind! There's no saving him now!"

    Bank Clerk: "And that loan you took out for the deposit on your apartment is going to be heavily taxed as income..."

    Losien: "What have you done, you fool!?"

    Evil G: "I-I don't know! I just wanted to... give my family a home... I-I-I- I take it back! I don't want the mortgage!"

    Bank Clerk: "Too late for that, Mr G! You already signed. Your soul... is ours!"

    Evil G: "Not if I kick yo ass!"

    Evil G whips out his NeverSword, the Shattered blade of NeShattered, with a smooth gliding sound of air being split. The bank clerk jumps to his feet seemingly in shock, but the moment he backs away shutters slam down all around the trio.

    Losien: "Now we've fallen into Evil G's trap..."

    Beyond the shutters they can see a figure approach slowly. He appears to wear a back suit with red tie and white shirt. His face is the most unusual feature as it doesn't appear to coalesce into a real human face but, instead, the formation of general human-features; eyes, nose and mouth. The lip of the holographic face move when the entity speaks, but they move well out of synch with the words.

    The Taxman: "Death... or taxes?"

  26. #1906
    Tea-sipper, character-killer
    Customers to the Starbucks would now discover that all coffee products have mysteriously been replaced by tea. When someone asks what's going on they'd be hushed into silence by concerned staff members. When Iriana finally leaves, the shop closes up early with the shutters firmly closed. Across the corridor from Starbucks Iriana sees a clothes shop titled "Little Princesses". She enters the shop and looks at the tiny frocks. When a clerk approaches, Iriana speaks.

    Iriana: "I say, I see you cater for little princesses here. That's commendable and all but where can I find frocks for the big princesses?"

    Clerk: "Uh..."


    NSN: Written on my phone so short and no formatting.
    Last edited by TheBritt; 11-23-2015 at 09:44 AM.

  27. #1907

    Day Trip

    After Newbs shower she decides to go and explore the Isle De Morte, under the pretence that she needs time to 'find herself'. Upon declaring this to TLTE she realises Darth Vice hasn't mentioned her memory loss to TLTE, unsure whether he's a super secret secret keeper or is reluctant to admit the conversation ever took place due to, you know, the threatening of young women and all, but either way she is grateful as this gives her more time to decide whether she wants to tell TLTE or not. Considering she didn't plan on mentioning in the first place, dam her temper! She really just can't be bothered with the TLTE and Darth Vice and needs to figure out whether to tell everyone the truth, or keep it a secret and figure out a way to steal her TOP SECRET case file and discover her past.

    On her walks she comes across a Starbucks, will lots of mayhem going on inside. Choosing to abandon her Starbucks desires she walks across the road to Costa, where they serve coffee.

  28. #1908
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Golden Axe, House of the Dead, Dand-Dance-Revolution and a Coffee

    The lights, the sounds, the button-mashing! Gwenhwyfar, the Potential of Losien, watches the young warriors of Isla de Morte in their various quests for gold, slaying or simply saving the day. Some kids gawk at her as she passes by, mistaking her for a company mascot in her heavy armour and lance strapped to her back - wondering what game she was supposed to be from.

    She hears the shouting to her right and she turns to see, on a screen, a great shirtless warrior battling against skeletons alongside a woman in a chainmail bikini kicking pots of mana out of small blue imps.

    Gwenhwyfar: "Golden... Axe..."

    When the kids both lose their quarters to the machine they turn to see the ironclad woman watching. They move. She puts a coin in...

    Gwenhwyfar: "Why is my character wearing a chainmail bra? This makes no sense. What protection does this offer?"

    Kid: "Uh... her boobs are safe?"

    Gwenhwyfar: "Better to keep your gut safe. There's no bone there. Easier to slice through."

    The kids's faces turn white.

    Gwenhwyfar: "Why would my health be restored just by drinking a red potion? Why do I need to drink mana potions for that matter? And most importantly why are these skeletons trying to kill me? What did I do to them?"

    Kid: "It's just a game, lady."

    Gwenhwyfar: "If you treat it as just a game, you'll never succeed! This is a matter of life or death! A matter of freedom from the evil Death Adder! I shall save the king of Yuria! I shall take the Golden Axe from Death Adder's cold, dead hands!!! WRRRRAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"

    Across the other side of the arcade is another woman yelling at an arcade machine.

    Miss Fire: "Die zombies!!! WRAAAAAAA!!!!"

    She fires her light gun at "The House of the Dead" cabinet.

    Again in the arcade, the sound of cheesy J-Pop music is heard. Having finished her sushi, Subaru Yamamoto is waggling her feet in perfect synchronised motions with the Dance-Dance-Revolution game. Lots of people have some to watch the spectacle. Sushi and DDR with J-Pop music? Subaru is now a walking stereotype.


    Elsewhere in the mall, Iriana Emp emerges from the "Little Princesses" disgruntled because they couldn't provide her with a "Big Princess" dress. She walks by, glances across at Starbucks - still blessedly selling tea - then backtracks as she realises there is another establishment dedicated to selling that abominable drink they call 'coffee'. She marches in and starts shouting at the Costa Coffee staff about their hideous brew and the superior virtues of tea.

    Newb: "Bollocks. Can't a girl get a coffee in peace?"

    Iriana: "No! No you can't! Because you'll have no peace if you drink that!"

    Newb: "Kind of the point, ain't it? I'll stay up for a few hours extra tonight!"

    Iriana, suddenly entranced with the opportunity to earn a new convert, seats herself at Newb's table. She whips out a cup and a teapot, apparently from nowhere, and pours a small china cup with golden tea. A soft, flowery aroma fills the air.

    A nervous member of staff approaches the table.

    Costa Coffee Staff: "Uh... Miss, you can't drink your own drinks in here. It's reserv-- ACK!"

    Iriana, without looking up, tosses the cup of warm tea in the staff member's face.

    Newb: "A bit harsh..."

    The staff member begins tittering like a little schoolgirl and prances off down the aisle as happy as a lamb.

    Newb: "And that was weird."

    Iriana pours a new cup.

    Iriana: "The powers of tea are many. Coffee is like mud. It looks like mud."

    She leans in close, conspiratorially.

    Iriana: "Actually, I saw a garden at the rear of this shop... just saying..."

    A man bursts into the shop screaming at the top of his lungs.


    The entire shop stares in horror. Iriana doesn't turn around. She blinks a few times before talking directly to Newb.

    Iriana: "This is my father."

    Newb: "A family of crazies is it?"

    Al Ciao runs over.

    Al Ciao: "I need that cyber witch woman to fix it!! I spilt hot coffee on myself and now--"

    Iriana: "Father! What have I told you about drinking coffee!? It's bad for your soul!"

    Al Ciao: "Yes but... my penis..."

    She notices then that Iriana isn't alone.

    Al Ciao: "Hello Iriana's friend."

    Newb: "Newb."

    Al Ciao gasps incredulously.

    Al Ciao: "I'm not a newb!! I've been a Character here for..."

    He starts counting on his fingers.

    Al Ciao: "(P)ages!!"

    Iriana: "I think she means her own name is Newb."

    Al Ciao: "Oh right... NEWB! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! MY PENIS IS MELTING!!!"

    Newb: "Wow... wish I'd stayed upstairs now..."

  29. #1909
    Still in Costa coffee during the my penis is melting conversation, Iriana is silently cursing her father for potentially ruining her opportunity to convert someone into a tea lover.

    Iriana: Father please! It is not only on my supreme advice, based on my obviously only important opinion, that you should not drink coffee. This is blatant proof that coffee is cursed. Drink some tea and your peepee will be fine!

    Al Ciao: But but ....

    Iriana: No! Enough of that! EVERYBODYYYY!!!!

    Iriana demands attention from everyone in Costa. Everyone, trying to ignore the commotion, reluctantly looks at Iriana.

    Iriana: Everybody, you must not drink coffee! My father has melted his peepee because he drank coffee, it is a cursed drink.

    Everybody in the shop looks at one another in confusion before reluctantly obeying the crazy woman. They will probably all go home and drink coffee anyway...

    Newb: Well, that was interesting. So, Iriana, I'll just be on my way.

    Iriana: No no you must stay and explore the glory that is tea.

    Pulling out her tea pot again she pours everybody a cup of tea.

    Iriana: Drink up my dear friend, soak up the goodness.

    Newb: ermmm ... sure, okay. Thank you I guess

  30. #1910
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Impregnatable

    Al Ciao: "Iriana! You were right! I- I don't feel that burning, melting sensation anymore! I'm ALIVE again!!!"

    Newb: "Unless it's melted right off..."

    Al Ciao stares at Newb in horror then pomptly starts rummaging down in his trousers.

    Newb: "Scarred for life..."

    Iriana: "How do you think I feel? Once he was an all-powerful ruler of starsystems... now... now he stands there fumbling with his... what did you call it? His peepee? Because he thinks he's melted it off. I always wanted a father who would be there for me but this...?"

    Al Ciao: "AHA!! I found it!?"

    Newb: "It really took that long? It's amazing you were ever born, Iriana..."

    Al Ciao: "Heeeeeeeeeey, I resemble that remark. I mean... I don't have a small peepee!! It's just SOOOO big that it got tangled up and I didn't know if it was me or if a snake had crawled up my pant leg."

    Newb facepalms.

    Iriana: "Honestly that's actually happened before so no a bad argument."

    Iriana then looks sternly at her father.

    Iriana: "Congratulations on still having your manhood father."

    Al Ciao: "Yes. And congratulation to all of the ladies of the world that they still have me, eh!?"

    Iriana: "I see how it is. I've noticed your... current frivolities. I don't approve. Just go. Replace me again."

    Al Ciao's entire demeanour instantly changes to serious and he crouches down to face his daughter at her table. He places his hands on her shoulders.

    Al Ciao: "I would never replace you. You are my dearest daughter and I love you."

    Iriana: "That's nice... There's a woman outside who's very impregnatable."

    Newb: "Is... that a word?"

    Al Ciao: "What!? Where!? I must introduce myself!!"

    Al Ciao dashes from the café, the staff glad to be rid of at least one of the loonies. Iriana sighs.

    Iriana: "I thought we were going to be friends for a time. But after learning more about him... the less impressed I find myself. He's my father. He can do no wrong. But he seems to want more and more daughters and never stopped to wonder how that would make me feel."

    She looks up at Newb and has the decency to became all embarrassed at the sudden seriousness of her mood.

    Iriana: "Sorry about all that."

    Newb shrugs nonchalantly.

    Newb: "At least you can remember your father. I seem to have been hit on the head one-to-man times and can't remember awt. For all I know, you're my sister."

    Iriana looks aghast.

    Iriana: "No no! Don't say that! That would be awful!"

    Newb: "Why?"

    Iriana fiddles with her necklace.

    Iriana: "It would just be... unsatisfactory."

  31. #1911
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow The Magic Ailment

    Non-Story Note: Just a quick message to newbie writers that may end up reading this - don't worry so much about it if you're not looking to be here long term! This event is happening well away from the main action of Isla de Morte.


    Cool Matty staggers through the streets of Bordeaux. It is night and rain falls so most people think he is just another drunk trying to find his way home. She stumbles and falls to his knees. He clutches his stomach but the truth is the sense of loss and pain floods every inch of his being. The sensation has lessened over the hours, but it's still incredible. He feels the aether dwindling even now. He has no idea what calamity has struck the world of magic but it has left its impact on him.

    Mimiru Kizumaki helps her husband to his feet and wraps his arm across her shoulders. She knows he will insist on carrying himself in a few moments, but she's happy to lend her support for the time he is willing to let her. She, like Cool Matty, had felt a gut-wrenching sensation a few hours ago but the effect upon her had been much less than it had on him. She supposes this is because he is tied to the world of magic far more than she has ever been. She had always been terrible at it and Cool Matty's teachings had only ever given meagre results.

    Usually in the rain Cool Matty could create a sphere of heat to keep them dry and warm. When the rain started Mimiru felt this may be the beginning of a future without such conveniences...

    She worries for him. A life without using magic might just drive him to desperation. She hopes it's not all over for him and his gift.

    She continues to push on. He manages to point down another street, knowing the way to the current NeSorcer - Nyneve. Mimiru had insisted that the new Emperor of Europe would be in some important building in Paris or Brussels, but Cool Matty somehow knew she could be underground in a dark, dank crypt - much to Mimiru's disappointment. She has always been used to a more comfortable style of living, given her incredible wealth. Yet for all her money, she doesn't seem to own an umbrella.

    Cool Matty points towards a dark and foreboding churchyard with plenty of ancient graves poking from the soil. They shuffle ever forward until they reach one especially large crypt entrance. It's already open. Cool Matty goes in first and peers down the stone stairs. Nothing. But, as he breathes, he finds the air stuffy and stale. He starts to go down the steps. Taking each step one at a time.

    When they reach the bottom Mimiru senses movement. She stands in front of Cool Matty, expecting trouble. But nothing comes. After staggering through the darkness for what seems like hours, they come across a well-lit passage, illuminated by modern lights embedded into the ceiling. At the end of the passage they find themselves in a large, cavernous room that reminds Mimiru of every super-villain base ever.

    Tony: "Hey hey. You guys aren't supposed to be here, you know?"

    Cool Matty: "We're look-- argh!"

    Mimiru: "We're looking for Nyneve."

    Tony rolls her eyes.

    Tony: "She doesn't sign autographs."

    Mimiru: "Tell her Magistarr sent us!"

    Tony: "Whoever that is."

    Tony stomps off, muttering something about him not being a bloody butler.

    Mimiru: "Almost there, my love. Just hold on..."

    They stagger to the central column and Mimiru allows Cool Matty to slouch down beside it. He pants heavily from strain. Eventually a voice rings out in the antechamber.

    Nyneve: "You're lucky I'm here..."

    Mimiru turns and Cool Matty stares through his blurred vision towards a figure approaching them. The Queen of NeSferatu and recently elected Emperor of Europe walks slowly over, dressed in a long black sheet that doubles up as a headdress too. She, like Cool Matty, is unwell. Her usual pristine NeSferatu-features are haggard and worn. Her eyes red raw.

    Nyneve: "You too it seems..."

    She uses the flaming torch in her hand to light the extinguished torches in the antechamber. Slowly, as if the practice is intense training.

    Cool Matty: "What happened?"

    Nyneve: "There was a... a systematic attack on the nexus of Earth. Almost all sites are gone. The rupture in magic was so strong it's effected every magic-user on the planet... possibly beyond."

    Cool Matty: "Who-- who would do this!?"

    Nyneve: "No idea. I had to watch BBC News just to know about the attacks. Pieced it... together when the locations were revealed."

    She groans as she puts the torch into a sconce on the wall.

    Cool Matty: "What will happen now?"

    Nyneve: "I have no idea... I hoped someone... would come. Someone from the... Magium..."

    Cool Matty: "But... the Magium... it's on top of a nexus point!"

    Nyneve nods.

    Nyneve: "I know... Hopefully no one was hurt..."

    She smirks as she nears them.

    Nyneve: "Not that I care about them... I just value their existence..."

    Merlin: "Then you'll be disappointed, my apprentice..."

    They turn to see a bright, shining figure sailing through the air towards them. The old man glows brilliantly in the darkness - a ghost. But his body is torn and shredded below the torso.

    Nyneve's eyes widen with fright and she staggers back, only to fall and try to scramble backwards.

    Nyneve: "No!! How!!?"

    Merlin: "They're all dead..."

    Cool Matty, who is barely even able to focus on the bright ghostly light, seems unperturbed by the presence of a ghost.

    Cool Matty: "You mean... the Magium?"

    Merlin: "It was an attack. A bomb that soaked up all of the magic of a nexus point and those present... before unleashing that magic in an explosion to wipe everything out. I went to the Magium before I came here... it's nothing but a crater."

    Nyneve: "That must... must be how you-- you--!!"

    Merlin: "The explosion absorbed your spell... yes..."

    Nyneve: "How are you... alive?"

    Merlin: "I'm not!"

    Nyneve: "I know that! I meant... how are you... still here!?"

    Merlin hovers towards them slowly.

    Merlin: "I'm concentrated magic. I was nearly consumed along with the nexus point at Stonehenge... my prison and tomb..."

    Nyneve scrambles to her feet.

    Nyneve: "Don't come any closer old man!"

    Merlin: "Nyneve..."

    He continues towards her.

    Nyneve: "I said stop! NeSferatu! COME!! QUICK!!!"

    She cannot wield magic and she's too weak to use her NeSferatu power to run away. No one can reach her in time... the ghost presses on until he is an inch before her. She stares into his dead eyes which, somehow, seem filled with more life than ever before. He opens his arms wide and then embraces her. It's not a real hug, he cannot touch her, but she feels the coldness of his hands as they pass through the layer of skin. She shivers. She is usually cold to the touch but the coldness of the ghost is a whole different level of cold.

    Merlin: "I forgive you, my apprentice."

    Nyneve feels like she's been struck by another wave of magical destruction. How this old fool could possibly utter those words is incomprehensible. At first she is humbled. Then she is embarrassed. And being embarrassed makes her angry. She pulls away from him.

    Nyneve: "I don't need your forgiveness, Merlin!"

    NeSferatu storm into the room, along with the Potentials Orochi and Midas.

  32. #1912

    Probing for the plan

    Meanwhile (NeS count: CLASSIFIED), back on Isla de Morte, the amnesiatic Newb spaces out as she smells the tea that Iriana had served her, still untouched. Iriana takes notice.

    Iriana: "You should drink that before it gets cold."

    Newb: "Huh? Oh, yes, you're right. It's just... I thought it smelled familiar for a moment."

    Iriana: "I don't think I've ever had anyone tell me that before with this particular tea. It's a fairly obscure Russian recipe."

    Newb: "Russian? I wonder if The Last--"

    She stops herself as she sees Iriana take interest. Somehow, Newb instinctively feels she needs to focus back on...task. Newb adjusts her posture to reflect Iriana's, tilting her head slightly in a sort of feigned friendliness that feels habitual. Why she slides into this double-faced behavior, Newb doesn't quite understand. She only understand that it feels natural, that it's what she should do. Meant to do.

    Newb: "So what brings you to this place anyway? You don't seem to care for the coffee shops, at least."

    Iriana blinks as one might when forgetting to call their mother.

    Iriana: "We -- Losien and I and the others -- came here to stop The Last True Evil before he had a chance to contact Vice. We're pretty sure it'd be bad news if he does, as it'd mean the end of everything we hold dear."

    Newb: "You mean because they might hire stupidly-destructive forces, such as former apprentices who don't remember their past or any qualms they may have about assassinating heroes?"

    Iriana: "What?"

    Newb: "Nothing. Please continue."

    Iriana: "Well, we got thrown in prison, and then we escaped, and we, uh... stopped in this mall."

    Newb: "Ah, of course! Because you're confident enough in your secret skills of ninjitsu stopping him that you could take a break, right?"

    Iriana: ""

    Newb: "Then you must have an ultimate weapon that needs charging before use?"

    Iriana: "No?"

    Newb: "Blackmail that needs to be picked up at discreet location at a specific time?"

    Iriana: "I wish we had thought about that...but no."

    Newb: "A disgruntled pet otter to sic on them?"

    Just then, The Otter walks by, looking rather disgruntled and mumbling to himself. Iriana glances at him as he passes before turning back to Newb.

    Iriana: "Eh..."

    Newb: "There must be some plan of attack, right?"

    Iriana: "Uh... maybe Losien would know."

    Newb: "Who?"

    On cue, Losien, Tracer, and Evil G run towards Iriana and Newb and away from a slowly-advancing Taxman.

    Evil G: "Help! I'm too good-looking to owe that many taxes!"

    Newb raises an eyebrow.

    Newb: "Are they running away from an outdated robotic bureaucrat?"

    Tracer ducks as the Taxman swings at his head with an oversized seal-stamper. The Taxman, missing Tracer, accidentially hits an elderly woman square on the forehead, leaving the word DENIED inked on her. A swarm of lawyers swoop in like locusts upon her, with paperwork flying everywhere. When they leave, she is nowhere to be found.

    Losien: "Plan A, everybody! Plan A!"

    Newb: "So there IS a plan!"

    Iriana: "Plan A is running away."

    Newb: "Oh. I think I need to re-evaluate my situation."

    Iriana and Newb start following Losien, Tracer, and Evil G as they book it from the Taxman...

  33. #1913

    Run Faster!

    A month ago...

    A man wearing fitted, hooded clothing of reds and blacks would be seen in iron clads just separate enough to not allow for mishandling the locking mechanism, something he knew far too well to dismantle in mere seconds with nothing more than a piece of wire or perhaps something more sophisticated involving electrical currents. No, escape would be the last of his worries with the long list of charges against him. Enough of the constant running around with no purpose or goal in mind, the alias, Dagger, would be seen with a smile on his face.

    Dagger: "Freedom."

    This was when a guard whacked the back of his head for speaking. Grunting slightly from the abuse, Dagger felt a surge of electricity course through his veins in gripping sensation. Paralyzing his body for the moment, he collapsed to the ground on his knee. A smile crept back onto his face which a speck of drool formed on his mouth. Dagger wiped his mouth on his collar and stood back up glaring at his prosecutor while surrounded by guards and a crowd of individuals, some unsure of the proceedings, others wanting blood to be cleansed from his corpse, and others ready to mob the courtroom for many different perspectives of reasoning. Nonetheless, Dagger was important to many people to not be part of the hearing from the governor of the land.

    Governor: "Not likely; however, we will go through the normal procedures to ensure you will have a long life in jail. Or, if we're lucky, death to save some cost. Dagger; alias Anonymous, alias Hunter, alias Piper, alias Drahgo, alias 'Alias', alias Clyde, alias Ganon, alias Gambit, alias oh nevermind. It isn't important anyhow. Read the charges."

    Prosecutor: "Thank you Governor. Charges read as follows: 42 charges of arson, 67 counts of forgery, 55 charges of identity theft, 7 charges of indecent exposure, 23 charges of blackmail, 30 charges of first degree murder, and finally, over 300 charges of larceny."

    Governor: "How do you plea to the charges?"

    Dagger: "Guilty!" he responded showing no remorse for his actions but rather proud of what he has accomplished. As of late, alias Dagger boasted his accomplishments openly on camera as well as through documentation challenging the police officials as well as the underworld syndicate to stop him. Not biased, Dagger committed crimes to anyone with a little bit of power. Some might even call him the 'Robin Hood' of the region if not the continent; however, there was always an angle for his seemingly good deeds. No one he dealt with was hands-off to his schemes and mindful plots of manipulation. Dagger was most accomplished with the most innocent of victims. One could say he was rather menacing without giving away any negative inclination of ill feelings; however, inner turmoil normally came forth soon after.

    Governor: "Guilty? You actually admit it this time. Fine then, I have plans for you, Alias. A friend of mine wants to recruit you for manual labor, in which, you'll never be able to come back here. Dismissed!"

    The guards did not allow a retort from Dagger and immediately paralyzed him once more to the point of passing out. The crowd around the guard were corralled into their respective exit passageways, in spite, of resistance. Some were even captured and arrested for disorder and violence. With the scene neutralized, Dagger was dragged to his holding cell and thrown into the ground. A machine energized to keep the cell locked and the field electrified from any means of escape. Hours later, Dagger awoken to find himself tied down to a chair with the Governor on the other side of bars.

    Governor: "Wakey, wakey, Alias. I enjoyed our time together, but it is time for you to go. I do not like long goodbyes, so I will only say fare thee well."

    Instantly, Dagger felt woozy once again but saw a light above him as if he was being pulled from his seat. Soon after, he felt his head clear all at once as he stood in front of a door of a building. Looking left and right and in full circle, he notices the grand mountain with skull features. Thinking odd, he checked his body for impalement and theft. Finding all his gear stolen, looted, and pickpocketed, Dagger cursed the air just as the door opened. TLTE stood there menacing as ever and brooded over his new recruit.

    TLTE: "You'll do just fine. Dagger, was it? The governor gives his high regards, but that is a mute point. Are you ready?"

    Dagger: "You must be the new proprietor then? Money? Rare trinkets?" he asked already catching onto this new job and trying to smooth out his situation to gain the upper hand.

    TLTE: "Ha, tut, tut. We will discuss this later. You need to come in for now."

    Dagger agrees as the negotiations will now begin. As he entered the door, he also notices Darth Vice and seemed to pick out his personality quickly as well. He knew he was in something much more dangerous than he bargained for; however, the thought was intriguing. Luckily, he was still in his clothes and not stripped completely of his dignity, not that it would indefinitely matter in the long run. Much was discussed in their talks, in which, Dagger agreed wholeheartedly...with a little scheming of his own. The file they acquired of him stated many traits and talents but nothing was consistent which made Dagger a loose cannon but a wanted individual nonetheless.

    5 minutes ago...

    29 days might seem like a long time, but it was enough for Dagger to gain his vantage point, strengthen his prowess, re-equip his missing gear, and find his targets. The coffee shop was one spot where he gain valuable information to use in his mission. As the talk of melting penises frustrated him, he was about to confront the vulgarness of the situation when an opportunity came forth to interact with Newb.

    Losien: "Plan A, everybody! Plan A!"

    Newb: "So there IS a plan!"

    Iriana: "Plan A is running away."

    Newb: "Oh. I think I need to re-evaluate my situation."

    Iriana and Newb start following Losien, Tracer, and Evil G as they book it from the Taxman...
    Dagger: "Follow me, I know a shortcut out of here," he mentioned bumping into Newb while grabbing her wrist. "Quickly, this way."

    The group, possibly never seeing Dagger before in town, would notice the red and black clothing which he wore with his hoodie down for the time being. His red hair spiky and long would normally give him away instantly but subtle enough to not be noticed as easily. A look of concerned, which was fake, stretched across his face. Urgency shown in his movements which the group would see a fight or flight in their manner. Still, it only took one of them to follow him as they noticed Dagger didn't seem like the person to be working for the TaxMan. Leaving with him, Dagger led them down a block and into an alleyway. A side entrance to another building allowed for a labyrinth of tall desks and other obstacles. After passing through another few doors, Dagger slowed down and egged the group to continue on while he stayed behind to lock and barricade the wooden, heavy door.

    Dagger: "Keep going! This won't hold him for long," he stated knowing all too well what the TaxMan was capable of.
    "Order through Chaos"

  34. #1914
    Virgin Fleet Admiral
    Our heroes hustle through the cubicles of what looks like an office building.

    Losien: Who's that guy?

    She jerks her thumb behind her, to where Dagger is barricading the door.

    Newb: You don't know? I thought he was with you! Why would you follow a complete stranger?

    Iriana: He seems a proper and helpful fellow. The sort who drinks tea.

    She takes a sip from her own teacup, spilling nary a drop even in the midst of hustling, nodding approvingly at her own assessment.

    Al Ciao: But did you see his hair?

    Evil G: I know, right? Looks like he escaped from an anime convention.

    Al Ciao: It's AWESOME!

    Evil G: Not the word I was gonna use, but whatever.

    Al Ciao: He's got to get rid of it.

    Newb: ...I thought you just said you liked it?

    Al Ciao: No one can have more outrageous hair than me!

    He runs his hand through his neon orange spikes.
    Last edited by Al Ciao; 11-30-2015 at 04:39 PM.

  35. #1915
    Now Dagger has his sights on Newb he must stay close. He has been accepted into the group easily enough, not but a few hurdles he can surely handle.

    Dagger: My hair offends you?

    Al Ciao: I wouldn't go as far as to say it 'offends' me, but my hair is an incredible masterpiece and yours ... well yours is just embarrassing. Not your fault of course, excellent hair is hard to master, not all can 'pull it off' so to speak.

    Clenching his teeth Dagger forces a smile Al Ciao's way.

    Dagger: Of course, I see what you mean Al Ciao, I shall take care of it at the next available opportunity.

    Having no intention of changing his, at least not to a style that wouldn't offend Al Ciao's tender ego, he merely laughs it off and mockingly bows in Al Ciao's general direction.

    Newb: hmmm ... well I think both of you have ridiculous hair. Mother mate with a parrot did she?

    Newb smirks at both of them but holds her hands up in mock defence. Admittedly she does think they both have ridiculous hair, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like it. If she could pull it off she would totally have a multi-coloured Mohawk...parrot father or not.

    Evil G: Ha, glad someone is on the same page. Even if it is the little one.

    Newb: Little one!? humph, I'll show you little one when I kick yours back up for a reunion with your stomach.

    Evil G: I just meant your short stature, absolutely nothing to do with your capability. Over reaction much?

    Losien: Hush both of you, we still have no idea who this guy is!? Who are you and why are you here?

    Gesturing to Dagger who has been watching everything unfold with a barely concealed amusement. Dagger, a few moments later realising he is being spoken to, considers how much to truth to apply to the situation...
    Last edited by errrmmmrobyn; 12-06-2015 at 08:22 AM. Reason: why does 's n i g g e r ' keep being starred (***) out?? :')

  36. #1916

    Dagger and Newb

    Dagger examines his current company as the company examines him, with neither paying attention to a nearby TV displaying news of what should be yet another world-changing event, this time an outer space invasion in Stonehenge. The young woman, Losien, acts as their leader, standing in her confidence the same as someone wearing a new pair of shoes. He keeps a mental image of her for a later...private time.

    By her side was a middle-aged man with spiky, orange hair he knew as Al Ciao. Apparently, Al finds Dagger's own hair to be a threat to his ego. He runs his hand through his own spiky red hair, and smiles as Al reacts visibly.

    Then he sees the man with arguably worse hair, known lately as Evil G. Dagger thinks the man is more crazy than evil, especially with a haircut decades out of date, but he at least seems to be a man of his own heart. Evil G may prove a useful, if temporary, ally, should he need it.

    Dagger glances briefly at the teenage princess, Iriana. She continues to sip from her tea cup. The only thing more annoying than a princess is a teenage princess... so he ignores her for now.

    The man straight out of some pulp private-eye story, Tracer, stares back at him, examining Dagger in similar depth, sizing up his opposition like a lower-class deadbeat dad in the drive-through McDonalds asking for seconds of diabetes and cardiac arrest, brooding over the fate of the dames just looking for a shoulder to cry on--

    --Dagger blinks. Is this guy's inner monologue seeping into his own thoughts?

    Tracer blinks in return.

    'Get out of my head!' Dagger thinks in his head.

    Tracer turns his attention to a nearby door, presumably continuing his internal monologue with thoughts of some philosophical nonsense about wanting to escape to inevitable or how doors remind him of that time when he was nine and waiting for the ice cream truck.

    Finally, Dagger surveys his competition, Newb. She seems rather defensive and lost, which comforts Dagger. He hates to think he'd have to fight for his piece of the cake. If she complicates matters, well, he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

    Losien: "Ahem. We're talking to you, Mr. Sketchy."

    Dagger whips his attention back to Losien, and quickly adjusts his posture to his best impression of an expert in hero-helping. All-in-all, not a bad impression.

    Dagger: "Yes, I'm Sketchy. Sketch Drawing. My friends call me Sketchy. I'm here to keep an eye on I can portray your acts of heroism with my artistry."

    To emphasis his point, Dagger rummages through his pockets to produce a pistol.

    Wait, a pistol?

    [b[Dagger[/b]: "Erm, I'm an avant-garde sort of artist."

    The other heroes nod in understanding.

    Iriana: "That explains your otherwise questionably-evil black attire, of course!"

    Dagger: "Uh, of course. Black for my angst, and er, red for my passion of the arts."

    Evil G: "You're quite dedicated to your...craft. I respect that."

    Dagger: "Yes, I take my craft quite seriously. I'm just glad I could help you all out in this pinch so you could continue your magnanimous quest to end evil. Your pursuer, the Taxman, threatens all of us, all-star heroes and artists alike!"

    Taxman: "Artists are given a rather generous tax break in at least four countries."

    Dagger: "Can it! Can't you see I'm trying to butter up these sa---aaaa-ya-yahhhh..."

    The villain-for-hire backs away as the Taxman stands behind him. Dagger turns towards the still-barred door, then back at the Taxman.

    Taxman: "There's no escape from me. Mr. Ohq must pay for his financial debts, and everyone else here will face punishment for aiding in his tax evasion."

    Evil G: "That's not my last name! That's not even my counterpart's last name! I shouldn't have to pay for such bureaucratic incompetency!"

    He holds up his dark Neversword in defense. The Taxman stamps his blade with his iconic seal, and the blade becomes immediately bound in thick red tape. Evil G struggles to move it, and whimpers in response.

    Taxman: "If you all will come with me now, we can avoid filling out forms J-356 through J-6754..."

    The Taxman trails off as his attention draws to the TV screen displaying a speech given by President Thand, commander-in-chief of the United States Armed Forces. Newb, however, gives little patience for his distraction.

    Newb: "I'm not filling out anything, you automated *******!"

    In a blinding flurry of blows, Newb rushes and strikes at the Taxman. Briefly, the Taxman's computerized reflexes seem to block and parry Newb's strikes, but they are too few and too predictable for Newb's trained-yet-wild melee attacks. A foot to the back of a knee joint, a hand pulling wires from the neck area, whipping a metal arm to with the other hand to snap with the force of her other foot, whipping the metal arm further around to ram it into an exposed part of the torso, then grabbing with both hands onto the head whips gripping the body with her legs and snapping the head off from the torso. She jumps off from the torso to let it fall.

    The others stand in awe, stunned at what just happened. For Newb's part, she blinks at the robotic head she holds in her hands, now stunned as well. She drops the head in confusion.

    Evil G: "We should run, while we can."

    Tracer: "The Taxman will be back in a new body soon enough."

    Dagger: "I hate robots..."

    He also hates that his competition, Newb, may be a bridge he'll be crossing sooner than later.

    Newb: "Think we can run to a place with a shower? I seemed to have worked up a bit of a sweat."

  37. #1917
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Project Earth

    Non-Story Post: This posts ties with several other posts contained within different Stories. For new Writers, you may wish to skip reading this post as it does not pertain to the current main plot but a sub-plot and may be confusing.

    Hero Force One: Post #64
    Clear and the Hopeless: Post #45
    The Pantheon: Post #11


    Back in France, deep in the lair of the NeSferatu and the secret hideaway of the European Emperor Nyneve. The former NeSorcerer Merlin, now a tattered and worn ghostly visage of his former self floats about the inner sanctum making somewhat sardonic remarks about his former pupils choice of venue. That pupil is Nyneve, current NeSorcerer and democratically voted Emperor of all Europe. She stands with her fellow NeSferatu and the Potentials, Orochi and Midas, who act as her imperial advisers.

    Nyneve: "You should leave this place."

    "But I only just arrived!"

    Nyneve: "Don't play games with me, Merlin! I'm the master of games!"

    Merlin: "I remember. It's hard to forget your games when you've been trapped in a cave for a thousand years."

    Nyneve: "I had to."

    Merlin: "Now you're playing a game with yourself?"

    Nyneve: "Quiet. Why did you even come here? Just to forgive me? Pointless!"

    Merlin: "You've been foremost on my thoughts for all that time in the cave, Nyneve..."

    He turns from the gothic pillar suspending the ceiling above them.

    Merlin: "I did mention it was a thousand years, right? More than that. That's a long time to be thinking mostly about one woman..."

    Nyneve: "It's also enough time to get over it."

    Merlin: "Hardly. I died in there. And it wasn't pleasant. When I finally felt the sun on my face again... Well, I couldn't actually feel it. Because I was dead. And nearly got sucked into oblivion by little grey chap with a bomb."

    Orochi: "What's this guy talking about?"

    Nyneve: "I know you didn't want to see me first. I know you better than anyone. What do you really want?"

    Merlin: "I may need your help."

    Nyneve: "The truth emerges. What for?"

    Merlin: "Albion. The explosion cut off Albion from the nexus and is surely dying. I... honestly don't know what to do to fix it. A new Rift must be opened."

    Nyneve: "If you don't know what to do, how am I supposed to know?"

    Merlin: "The former NeSorcerer, the current and..."

    He gestures towards Cool Matty who has managed to get back to his feet.

    Merlin: "The next. Surely we three can... can... Ah."

    Everyone waits for him to continue but when he stares off into a blank wall, Mimiru decides she ought to interject.

    Mimiru: "Mr Merlin. What is it?"

    Merlin: "I sense something. Something I haven't sensed since..."

    Again he falls silent for a minute before being prompted by Mimiru again.

    Mimiru: "Since when? What is it?"

    Merlin: "Our answer has just arrived. Providence is clearly on our side this day. Perhaps The Fates themselves have been managing our destinies to ensure this moment."

    Nyneve: "There's no such thing as fate."

    Merlin: "Strange choice of words for a NeSorcerer..."

    Nyneve: "I wasn't fated to be NeSorcerer. I took it from fate."

    She suddenly glares at Cool Matty.

    Nyneve: "And none shall take it from me!"

    Merlin: "This is a conversation we'll to resume at a later date. I only know the bonds of destiny are strong in the world of our Art, dear Nyneve. Dwell on that. Now, however, I need to return to Stonehenge it seems."

    Cool Matty: "What is it, Merlin? What do you sense? I can't... sense anything in the aether..."

    Merlin: "You won't recognise it even if you did. It's a subtle sensation that I haven't felt since the days I was alive."

    Nyneve: "I think... I think I feel it too."

    Merlin smiles to himself.

    Merlin: "The return of the king."

    Mimiru: "Oh, I never read it."

    They turn to stare at her.

    Mimiru: "I meant to get round to it! But The Two Towers was kind of a slog to get through and I--"

    Merlin snaps his fingers and a plot-hole appears, cutting Mimiru short on her panicked justification of her deplorable lack of reading.

    Mimiru: "Stupid Narrator. Keep your opinions to yourself."

    Cool Matty: "You're able to summon a plot-hole even now? I can just about summon a enough flame to light a candle."

    Merlin: "Some are more tethered to the aether than others, young man. You rely much on your nature and less on your knowledge of magic. So when calamity strikes, the loss of magic has left you feeling weaker than I."

    Cool Matty: "Wow. Way to bruise my ego."

    Merlin: "I meant to do no such thing. I was trapped in a hole. There wasn't a lot else to do than study my craft."

    Cool Matty: "I see. Magistarr said I need more study too..."

    Merlin: "Then we have much to discuss, I should say."

    Nyneve: "You intend to train the whelp now?"

    Merlin: "Did I say that?"

    Nyneve: "Whatever. Do as you like. He'll never be NeSorcerer so long as I live."

    Merlin: "All this negativity is going to give you stomach ulcers."

    Nyneve rolls her eyes.

    Nyneve: "I'm dead too, remember? I was dead before you, actually."

    She tosses her blanket aside and tries to stand prouder than she feels. She walks towards the plot-hole.

    Oroachi: "Where the Hell're you going?"

    Nyneve: "Stonehenge. I want to see what's happening for myself."

    She stands before the plot-hole. Through it she can see the green grass of Britain. She hasn't been there for... so many years. She almost fears them now. Fears the long years of memories. Her old life. Her new life. Then her newer life. Once a human, then a NeSferatu and then NeSorcerer. A world of innocence, a world of darkness and a world of magic.

    She turns her head and stares at Merlin. She doesn't know his mind. Not any more. She had never suspected that he would return from the grave to torment her but she wouldn't be outdone by him. Or the stupid boy.

    She steps through. She gasps and jumps back into France.

    Nyneve: "Holy crap!"

    Orochi runs to her side.

    Orochi: "What happened!?"

    Nyneve: "Lots of shooting. Lots and lots of shooting."

    Merlin: "Typical. Nothing is ever easy is it?"

    He floats through before her and she, petulantly, stomps through after him. Laser blasts screech through the air, fired from space-age laser rifles held by white-clad soldiers. The stormtroopers are battling against a specific target, a woman wearing a union flag for clothes. Albeit very little union flags.

    Orochi: "She looks cold."

    Judge, Hero Force One powerhouse, is flying through the air bathed in a purple aura of telekinetic energy. Using this superpower she grabs the wing of a shuttlecraft, transporting more stormtroopers to the land, and tears it off. The ship begins to fall and the soliders within evacuate, using their parachutes to escape.

    Cool Matty: "She's definitely on our side. And these guys aren't."

    Cool Matty and Mimiru have both come through the plot-hole too. They're then joined by Orochi, Midas and a bunch of NeSferatu. One stormtrooper lands close by and instantly opens fire on the group. Merlin is quick to raise a simple shield spell to protect them from the sudden blasts of hot energy.

    Nyneve: "Maybe this is exactly what I need to make me feel better..."

    Merlin: "You'll only make yourself feel worse if you expel too much magic, Nyneve."

    She smiles wickedly, exposing her delicate fangs.

    Nyneve: "There's more to me than mere magic, Merlin. Don't you remember?"

    In a flash she runs at the attacker. Once on him she whips off the man's helmet and sinks her teeth into the flesh of his neck. She cradles the man and falls to her knees with his increasingly lifeless body. She whips her head back and savours the copper taste of blood on her tongue. The vibrant sensation mixes with the sluggishness of the magic drain. It's like drinking coffee with a bad hangover. She swivels her eyes to look at her current companions. The boy, Cool Matty, holds out his hand and a long staff appears. Seems given enough motivation he can do more than light a candle after all. She does note, however, that the staff is simple martial weapon and not imbued with any elemental attributes. He suffers as much as she does, at least. That makes her feel happy.

    The girl, Mimiru, unsheathes a sword she has at her side. Although a short sword, it still looks far too big for the small Asian girl to be wielding. Yet she doesn't appear to be impeded by it. Orochi, ever the samurai warrior, is already charging into battle ahead of the others. Nyneve knows that Orochi is Subaru Yamamoto's Potential and thinks it fortunate that the woman's mask was on when Mimiru first saw her, else there would be a long ensuing explanation about Potentials that Nyneve couldn't sit through.

    Midas lurks close to the plot-hole. He's not much of a fighter but he'd be more than useful should anyone get close enough for him to grab. Turning people into sofas is entertaining and all, but turning them into golden sofas is even better. Her minions, the NeSferatu scatter across the battlefield. Each of them is powerful enough to look after themselves but they've never had much sense. Running off into a battle alone is never a good idea.

    Nyneve shakes her head and rises. Since giving her NeSferatu the cloned ink blood, they've been increasingly reckless. She really should curb that behaviour.

    Merlin: "Did you enjoy yourself?"

    He asks as he approaches, floating towards her like a ghostly memory from her past.

    Nyneve: "I did."

    She turns from him and surveys the battlefield. Truly, for the first time in forever, she feels homesick. She sees the devastated Stonehenge. She smells the air of Britannia. Is it really different than anywhere else? Probably not. But the thought of Britannia is still nestled within her mind and that is enough. She feels like she did over a millennium ago when she first returned to the British Isles as a newly born NeSferatu - seeing the old land through new eyes.

    "Where is your king?"


    Nyneve: "No longer. I could lay claim to the land myself. If Britain didn't declare itself independent from Europe during the elections, it would be mine already."

    Merlin: "But you wouldn't be its true Queen. We both know that."

    Nyneve: "No more than the current fool."

    "I daresay she has more legitimacy than you do, my dear."

    Nyneve: "Welcome to the modern world, Merlin. The old aristocracies are gone. The world is governed by money. Gold. I have the gold. I have the power."

    Merlin: "And yet, the true heir is here."

    He turns.

    "In there."

    Nyneve: "Best hope I don't trap you in again..."

    She looks at him with a face that barely conceals the silent victory in her mind. He sees it but doesn't rise to the affront. Instead he turns from her and floats towards the tunnel.

    Nyneve: "Run to your master, Merlin. I hope he's as much a lord as any other before him."

    Merlin pauses.

    Merlin: "Actually, I sense in the aether, that our new lord is, in fact, a young lady."

    Nyneve rolls her eyes.

    Nyneve: "I hope she's a tyrant and demands you clean the dirt from her shoes."

    Merlin shakes his head and continues to float on.

    Nyneve: "With your tongue!"

    A bolt of energy strikes the ground near her feet and Nyneve jumps in surprise. Stupid Merlin, distracting her. She runs at the offender and decides to see how durable this white armour of theirs actually is - by ripping his arms off.


    Cool Matty swings his staff around to strike the soldier's helmet, rendering the man unconscious. Mimiru slips by him and kicks another trooper at the back of his knee. The soldier droops and Cool Matty finishes the job with a strike to the head. Mimiru hadn't waited to see what her husband did with the target handed to him, instead she spins and strikes another enemy with her white, shining blade cuts through even the strong space armour like it is made of cardboard. He cries out and falls to the earth.

    Although Japanese-born, Mimiru has spent much of her life in England and usually considers herself to be British. Cool Matty imagines seeing invaders in her homeland must be angering Mimiru. She is good at keeping things to herself but he knows his wife too well to not consider how upset she must be right now. She jumps aside as a soldier strikes to strike her with the butt of his rifle and follows through with a counter-attack from her ever-sharpened sword. Despite it being a weapon forged in the Middle-Ages, the blessings upon the deadly weapon make it one of the sharpest weapons known to the history of Earth. And now she proves it is.

    Cool Matty leg sweeps a soldier, knocking him to the ground, and then uses his prone body as a platform to leap up into the air and smack another white-clad space-farer with an incredibly powerful hit. The soldier is knocked out cold and CM turns with an upwards strike to knock out the, now rising, first guy. He regrets that he cannot channel his magic through the staff, that would let him take down more of these invaders in a matter of minutes.

    Suddenly Cool Matty and Mimiru are forced to jump aside as the superhero, Judge, swoops in. She belts it across the field at an incredible speed, telekinetic energy pounding through the ground beneath her. In the wake the ground has shifted, if not exploded upwards, knocking aside soldiers and leaving a long track trailing across the fields of Wiltshire.

    Mimiru: "Bloody Hero Force One! They never think of the mess they make of the bloody place when they're done."

    She looks back along the trail to see all of the fallen soldiers.

    Mimiru: "Did she have to wreck the place?"

    Cool Matty sees Judge rescuing a tall man dressed in a white. The man, unperturbed at being rescued, leaps onto another soldier and starts grappling for his rifle. Judge maintains a distance from the entrance to the tunnel, guarding either it or the man.

    Mimiru: "Isn't that Al Ciao?"

    Cool Matty squints.

    Cool Matty: "Looks like him... oh wait. Didn't Hero Force One have a clone of Al Ciao?"

    Mimiru: "Clones. Seems everyone gets cloned these days."

    Cool Matty: "Not you, darling. I know I have the genuine article right here."

    He grins and wraps an arm around her.

    Mimiru: "Tsukasa. We're standing in the middle of a battlefield with a lot of strange soldiers all around us. Now isn't the time for sweet nothings."

    Despite moving away from him she's grinning like a fool.

    Mimiru: "I notice you're feeling better though."

    Cool Matty: "My strength is back, yeah. I think just being around Merlin and Nyneve has stabilised the flow of magic in me."

    Mimiru: "They're coming out!"

    She points back to the tunnel and they see a group of people, including Merlin, exit the tunnel. They move quickly and, suddenly, a torrent of water gushes out and spills across the field. By the time it reaches CM and Mimiru it has lost most of its initial power and is little more than a trickle that tickles their boots. From the water, however, rise strange beings that Cool Matty has never seen before. When they appear, however, he feels a sudden rush of magic through his very being - like being topped up on credit. He looks at his staff. He pushes magic from his core to his hands. Fire runs up along the wooden staff and from the tip a flaming blade springs.

    Mimiru: "What are they? They're made of magic?"

    Cool Matty: "Seems so. Whatever they are, I feel stronger again. Time to finish these guys off."

    He runs back towards the battle. He sees Judge conjure a gigantic purple baseball bat in the air and use it to whack a whole line of soldiers. He decides he can match that. He summons a cloud of fire in the sky and from it rains down balls of fire onto the enemy soldiers. He runs into the rain, immune to their flaming touch, and strikes the first reeling star-trekker he sees, sending him to the ground in agony. The rest of the soldiers are scattering from the fire cloud so the young sorcerer manipulates the cloud to move on towards the next group of military men and women. The magical beings from the water have begun to engage the enemy soldiers too, forcing them back from the tunnel - and straight towards CM. One soldier runs at him and fires. CM spins his staff, creating a fiery shield that absorbs the incoming laser fire. When closer the soldier tries to dodge around Cool Matty to get at his back but the former NeS Hero conjures an abrupt wall of fire in the man's path. The soldier walks straight into it and cries out in sudden pain and falls to his knees.

    While fire seems effective enough, Cool Matty is concerned that the element isn't as effective against this strange white armour as he had expected. He knew plenty about the Empire and the white menace, but he had never expected their armour to actually be that good.

    Mimiru: "They're retreating!"

    Cool Matty refrains from beating down anyone sensible enough to flee away from him. He's not a murderer. He swings his staff and rests it on his shoulder. The tide of troopers are running back to their ships and Mimiru joins him. They watch as the magical beings of another world vanish as though they had never been there. The people from the tunnel have also gone, leaving Merlin with Hero Force One. Cool Matty and Mimiru approach them.

    Cool Matty: "What now, Merlin?"

    Merlin turns to greet him.

    Merlin: "Now we rebuild Stonehenge. It was created to maintain The Rift and allow magic to flow into Albion, the world connected to our own."

    Cool Matty frowns, he knows nothing of what the old ghost speaks but he assumes he will explain in time.

    Cool Matty: "What of the new king?"

    Merlin: "She left. It seems the current ruler of Britain is to remain in power. Lucky her."

    Cool Matty: "I'm glad."

    Merlin: "Why is that?"

    Cool Matty: "Maeve was a NeS Hero, like me. I guess I just feel like I owe her some allegiance for that."

    Merlin: "Then on that we must disagree. Not that it matters. For now."

    Judge: "Nice to see a NeS Hero able to do more than run off with his tail between his legs."

    She grins at CM as she nears. Mimiru, defensively, steps forward.

    Mimiru: "Why don't you get out of here? I'm sure there's some buildings left somewhere that you haven't blown up yet."

    Judge: "Wow. Catty. Sheathe your claws, kitten. I was giving you both a compliment."

    Cool Matty: "I'm surprised you even know we're NeS Heroes."

    Judge: "Your old man told me who you are."

    Cool Matty: "Oh..."

    Merlin: "Why don't people just use my name? Why is it always 'old man'?"

    Woman: "I have to leave now. Thanks for your help."

    The woman is young and has a head of untamed brown hair kept in a messy ponytail of unruly curls. She looks mildly angry even though the battle is won.

    Judge: "Hey. I saw some of your action. You did even better than these chumps."

    She jerks a thumb at Cool Matty.

    Mimiru: "Hey!"

    Woman: "You were incredible."

    Judge: "I know. I usually am."

    "I want to know... how? How can you generate so much power?"

    Judge shrugs.

    "It's just what I do. And what I do is awesome."

    Woman: "I wish... I wish I could learn that power. I want to..."

    She laughs to herself.

    Woman: "I want to be awesome too."

    Judge seems to consider before she finally shrugs again.

    Judge: "No harm in you hanging about with Hero Force One for a while. If that's what you want. You're good in a fight, I'm sure the doc will be happy to have you right now."

    The woman herself then considers.

    Woman: "Okay. I think it might be for the best if I... spent some time away from my home anyway."

    Judge: "Sounds like you're having issues. Seems to be all the rage these days."

    Woman: "I'm Ffion Heul."

    Judge: "And I'm Judge. Welcome to Hero Force One, pet."

    Mimiru: "Oh great. Another arrogant braggart in the making."

    Cool Matty: "... did you just say braggart?"

    Mimiru: "Yeah? So? Oh, sorry, should I have said 'stupid jerk' or something? Excuse me for having a vocabulary."

    Cool Matty: "Wow. Hero Force One really gets you angry, huh?"

    Mimiru sighs with annoyance.

    Judge: "Don't you worry your little cotton socks, we're off."

    Ffion: "I need to get my spaceship."

    "Oh great. She even has a spaceship."

    Cool Matty: "You have a plane."

    Mimiru: "Yeah, but it doesn't go into space!"

    Cool Matty: "Do you want to go into space?"

    Mimiru: "Not the point."

    With that, Judge and Ffion Heul left for greener pastures. Nyneve and her entourage also leave through the plot-hole that Merlin had created. Once through, the old ghost closes it and turns his attention to Stonehenge.

    Merlin: "Shouldn't take long."

    Cool Matty: "Pretty sure you just jinxed us."

    Mimiru: "At least when we're done we can go back to my place."

    Merlin: "I haven't slept in a real bed for such a long time..."

    Cool Matty: "Can you sleep?"

    Merlin: "That's not the point..."
    Last edited by TheBritt; 12-08-2015 at 01:29 PM.

  38. #1918
    It's raining. Hard. Lying face down, snug in the earth. I can smell the mud, the rain. Taking in my surroundings periodically I think to myself, yes I have chosen my hiding space well. I am nestled, not so comfortably, in a thorn bush, surrounded by shadows. They can't see me, not a chance.

    A brief look into my internal clock shows me I have been here for 3 hours. Not long now. They will be here any moment. Yes! There they are! A group of 3 walk swiftly through the park, barely visible under the moon light, concealed in the shadows created by dense forest surrounding the footpath. Crawling out silently I track them for a while, like a predator. Yes, predator, an apt word for what I am, I joke to myself. Listening to the barely audible crunch of leaves beneath feet, the occasional huff of breath in the cold autumn air, I follow. Nearly there. Now!

    Running across the path ahead, a fist, quick and crisp, smacking into the kidney of the man at the back. He falls towards me and I throw my hand out and up, using his momentum to push his head down to smack into the ground. It takes seconds it takes to complete this action, the other 2 only alerted by the huff of breath leaving the man.

    Before they have completed their turn to view the spectacle taking place behind them I am already pouncing on the second, a woman. My hand reaches towards her face, palm flat with the heel aiming directly for her nose. She is too slow, a wet crack shouts loudly through the night as blood begins to pour down her face.

    Realising the danger finally she takes a step back and adopts a fighting stance, ignoring the blood fountain. Circling each other she takes a step forward, feigning a punch whilst swinging low with her leg. I am a far superior fighter so she barely clips my foot, jumping I grab her head and spin her around as I jump behind her. Not so elegantly dragging her up by her hair.

    The third, a man, comes up behind me, sensing him I throw her towards him. Both of them now walking towards me, watching. Leaping forward I aim low, ducking between and underneath their outstretched arms. I grab one of the mans arms and pull him around with me, grab both arms and pull him towards me, my head forehead meeting his at an incredible speed.

    Stunned he staggers back and the woman takes a second to look in his direction, the other man is beginning to stir on the ground so I take her legs out from under her and smash the back of her skull into the man on the floor.

    With both of them out for the count I stalk towards my final prey, he is glancing between his fellow victims and the monster before him. He stops, shaking his head. 'No, no please' he begs. I grab him by the collar with both hands, pulling his face close to mine, a mere inch apart. I can smell the fear.

    'Tell you boss I said hi' I murmur, before smacking the guy in the side of the head. Once down I bend over an kiss him in the centre of his forehead, leaving a perfect red kiss for a third eye. My trade mark. He'll know who did this. I did.

    Newb wakes up sweating and panting hard.

    Newb: What the ...

  39. #1919
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow The Shopping Arcade

    Still in the shopping mall Al Ciao is waggling his hand before Newb's face.

    Al Ciao: "Earth to new girl. Earth to new girl."

    Newb: "It's Newb not new girl."

    Al Ciao: "Isn't that the same difference?"

    Losien: "Seriously though, Newb, you just zoned out for, like, five minutes. We were about ready to carry you out."

    Newb: "I did. Uh, I mean... I did? Huh! I must be tired. I have... uh... narcolepsy."

    Evil G: "Greeeeeeeat. A violent narcoleptic. Just what this outfit has always been missing!"

    Losien: "And a sarcastic, selfish jerk is so much more useful?"

    Evil G: "Haha-- hey wait, you mean me, don't you?"

    Dagger: "We really should leave."

    Now back to her senses, Newb joins the NeS Heroes and Dagger as they flee from the capitalists. Yet as they run, it seems the shopping mall never ends. They follow signs for the exit but the exit never arrives. The whole while they are bombarded by shops, sellers and advertisements. H &M, McDonald's, Abercrombie & Fitch, Luk Fook Jewellery, Wal-Mart, Apple Store, Gamestop; they all fly.

    Evil G: "Did you see the name of that jewellery shop?"

    Losien: "Don't pay attention to them! Not even the ones with silly names!"

    Evil G: "But seriously, luck fuc--"

    Losien: "Look out!"

    They all skid to a halt as, before them, stand a horde of men in suits with briefcases. The men take a step forward.

    Tracer: "Those briefcases could be filled with semi-automatics..."

    Dagger: "Or knives..."

    Iriana: "Or coffee! The horror!"

    Newb: "Priorities, Iriana. Priorities."

    Iriana: "You're quite right! I shouldn't be worrying about coffee in briefcases. I should be worried about all of the tea I should be drinking!"

    Newb: "Uh, not what I had in mind... but sure. Drink away."

    The men hold out their briefcases and, with expert one-handed clicks, unlock them and expose the innards to the NeS Heroes.

    Losien: "No... they're..."

    Al Ciao: "SALESMEN!!!"

    The briefcases contain all manner of weird, wonderful, surprising and curious gadgets - all of which are utterly useless. The men run at the heroes shouting, "BUY! BUY! BUY!"

    Newb: "Leg it!!!"


    Inside the arcade, the other NeS Heroes are still battling their way through quarters. Miss Fire, however, finally runs out.

    Miss Fire: "Noooooooo! Curse you SEGA!!!!"

    She stalks off and sees Subaru, still playing her Dance-Dance-Revolution game with perfect scores like only a stereotypical Asian gamer possibly could. She finds Gwenhwyfar already standing there.

    Gwenhwyfar: "Did you run out of money?"

    Miss Fire: "Yeah... do you think Subaru has any spare?"

    Gwenhwyfar: "She doesn't."

    Miss Fire: "So sure?"

    Gwenhwyfar: "I already borrowed everything she had. Spent it all on Altered Beast..."

    They stand, silently lamenting their downfall at the hands of age-old video games. Suddenly a group of people run through the arcade screaming something about salesmen. Then they are pursued by a bunch of men screaming something about buying stuff.

    Miss Fire: "You know... I suddenly have a feeling we're supposed to be doing something..."

    Gwenhwyfar: "Like pushing Subaru off of that machine and beating her to death for being so good at it?"

    Miss Fire:

    Gwenhwyfar: "Just me then..."

    The group of people run past again, squealing and wailing.

    Miss Fire: "Kids these days. No respect for the arcade!"

    The salesmen then also run by.

    Gwenhwyfar: "What was that rubbish those guys were selling?"

    Miss Fire: "Rubbish. Literally. I have a whole drawer full of tat I bought and never use."

    Gwenhwyfar: "Had a drawer. That hero base you used burnt down, remember?"

    Miss Fire: "Oh right yeah. I guess it's better this way. I might have needed a second drawer..."

    Suddenly the group of people crash into the Dance-Dance-Revolution game and everyone, including Subaru and her admirers, are bundled up into a pile of people groaning and complaining about locations of hands and butts.

    Miss Fire: "See? No respect..."

    Losien: "Miss Fire! Gwen! Help us get out of here!"

    Miss Fire: "Now I remember what we were doing!"

    The two women help the other heroes to their feet. Except Subaru. Because she doesn't deserve the help.

    Subaru: "I can't help it if I'm talented!!"

    Gwenhwyfar shoves Subaru over again.

    Miss Fire: "Losien! I'm glad to see you safe!"

    Losien: "You too. We need to get out of here, there's horrible salesmen trying to sell us tat!"

    Miss Fire: "Absolutely. But first, I need to ask you... do you have any spare quarters? I'm supposed to be playing The House of-- ARGH!!"

    The salesmen have landed on them and are bombarding them with information about products nobody in their right minds would ever want to buy.

    Salesman #1: "Buy this phone coaster! It'll stop your phone making marks on the table!"

    Salesman #2: "Buy this chocolate kettle! Tired of your hot chocolate not being chocolatey enough!?"

    Salesman #3: "How about these thermal knickers that'll protect your nethers from the blistering cold of the arctic?"

    Salesman #4: "You'll love the taste of second-hand Coca-Cola!"

    Losien: "No! No! Noooooooo!"

    Evil G: "Just take my money and go!!!!!"

    Tracer: "You can't spend your money, you're in debt!!"

    Evil G: "Aaaaarrrrrgh!!!!!"

    Salesman #5: "Buy these speakers that includes pre-muffled sound so you'll never disturb your neighbours!!"

    Salesman #6: "Buy a bloint! Perfect hat for your pants!!"

    Salesman #7: "Buy this toaster from the future for all your toasting needs!!! The T4500 4-Slice Toast-it-All Toaster is the most--!!"

    Losien: "A toaster!"

    Salesman #7: "Yes!!! YEEEES!! BUUUUUUUUUY EEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!"

    Losien reaches out towards the toaster.


    She turns it on. What the salesman doesn't know about these toasters from the future is-- well, you're about to see.

    T4500: "My primary functions are the heating - but not burning - of grain products... AND THE TERMINATION OF HUMAN LIFE."

    A side panel on the toaster opens up.

    Salesman #7: "Wow. I didn't know it talked! This thing is even be--ACK!!"

    From the panel a miniature submachine gun fires a string of bullets into the salesman.

    Everyone freezes for a split second. Then they all run for it. Shoppers, salesmen and heroes. Bullets then begin to fly in every direction. Miss Fire jumps behind an arcade cabinet for cover. She glances up. Time Crisis.

    Miss Fire: "Must... spend... money..."

    Suddenly the machine explodes in a shower of sparks and bits of cabinet. Miss Fire pulls out her own pistols and returns fire.

    Miss Fire: "You killed it!! You killed Time Crisis!!"

    At the front of the toaster, two glowing red eyes open up and its cord lashes out like an angry tail.

    T4500: "Armed humans. Immediate termination commencing."

    The other heroes have also taken refuge behind various arcade machines but none yet move for fear of being riddled with bullets.


    Amal bursts into the dark sanctuary and points at the back of the figure before him.

    Amal: "Uncle TLTE! I've come for you!"

    The figure turns to reveal, however, Darth Vice. Men in suits all look the same from behind. Amal is visibly disappointed but he tried to retain his determined expression. He had managed to avoid most of the traps of the capitalist shopping mall and ascended the skull in search for his treacherous uncle.

    Darth Vice: "I'm sorry but your uncle... is in another castle."

    Amal: "You've been standing there waiting to say that all this time, haven't you?"

    Darth Vice: "...maybe."

    Amal: "Where is he?"

    Darth Vice: "Recruiting has begun, hero."

    Amal: "Recruiting for what?"

    Darth Vice: "... you think I'm going to tell you my whole plan!?"

    Amal: "Isn't that the kind of thing you'd usually do?"

    Darth Vice: "NO! ... maybe."

    He holds out a thin computer pen and clicks the button. A table in the centre of the room flips over to reveal a map of the island and behind him a projector descends to light up a screen with stats and graphs.

    Darth Vice: "As you can see from my graphs..."

    Amal: "You... have you plan as a Powerpoint?"

    Darth Vice: "Powerpoints are the backbone of every company's meetings!"

    Amal: "Right... I'm not a company member so can we skip this part?"

    Darth Vice: "Oh ho ho... but you are!"

    He whips out a file, much like the files for Newb and Dagger.

    Darth Vice: "You came highly recommended..."

  40. #1920
    Tea-sipper, character-killer

    Arrow Britt: The Legend - Christmas Special 2015

    In the United States of America, President Arkng Thand runs his hand through his beard as he looks down at a book he's pulled from the shelves of the library. "The Untold Tales". He opens it to find the first Chapter titled "Britt: The Legend - Christmas Special 2015". He knows the date of the book isn't 2015 and the writer, Nostradamus, is long dead. Yet there's the date stating 2015 nonetheless. As though someone knew he would read the book this very Christmas...

    Thand: "The Story works in mysterious ways..."

    Thrawn42689: "Master Thand."

    Arkng Thand looks away from the book and over to a monitor that has lit up with the pixelated features of the robot Thrawn42689, who has been uploaded into the Internet and has, over time, corrupted the minds of all Americans through the ultimate plague upon mankind - social media.

    Thrawn42689: "Russia continues to refuse to enter Europe under its new Emperor."

    Thand: "Trivial information, Thrawn. How about our entrance into Mexico? Have the people started to come under our sway yet? Do the Mexicans seem to like pointless cat videos?"

    Thrawn42689: "Everyone likes pointless cat videos, Master Thand. But our biggest successes are through Twitter. I have created #MexicojoinsUSA. We're slowly but surely gaining more and more followers. In time you may find yourself President of Mexico too."

    Thand: "It's not the kudos I want, Thrawn. It's the people's unwavering minds..."

    Thrawn42689: "Our attempts to subvert Canada have been less successful. Demons just haven't taken as well to social media as we thought they would. There's a good number on Twitter, tweeting about maiming people in pits usually. A lot of facebook photos of public floggings."

    Thand: "Are they immune to the cat videos?"

    Thrawn42689: "As I said, everyone likes the cat videos."

    Thand: "There isn't much time left. The process has been slower than I'd expected. And the rise of this new Emperor is stifling our attempts to control the minds of Europeans... If that is their fate, then that is their fate. No NeSferatu can save them from it."

    Thrawn42689: "I'll update you on any future news."

    Arkng Thand picks up the book and begins to read the Untold Tales.

    "Britt: The Legend - Christmas Special 2015"

    1909, Liverpool, England.

    An elderly woman, somewhere in her fifties or early sixties, walked slowly along the cobblestones of a murky Liverpool street. It's not far from the docks so the smell of the sea is rife, as is the smell of human defecation. Usually the street would be the realm of whores and their pimps, but in recent months the area has been clear of all people save the occasional lonely soul making their way towards a single destination. The woman adjusted her bonnet. She should at least try to look her best, even if in his eyes she's old and withered.

    She reached a large, ominous warehouse that was stained black from the pollution thick in the air. At least it wasn't London where the "London fog" was the polite way of saying "London smog". London's miasma could kill. Liverpool's air just offended.

    She pushed on a door. It scraped the concrete floor as it slid open, announcing her arrival as though she'd gone in there with a trumpet. The warehouse is dark but light shines through the massive single-pane windows, illuminating the spacious place. There isn't much to be seen in the room beside the central piece - a wide platform with a pedestal at the centre. Atop of the pedestal is a simple, wooden bowl.

    As she nears it, she decides it would be polite to call out first.

    Catherine Simon: "Bestower?"

    Britt: "You, of all people, should call me Britt."

    She turned. Britt, her old friend, was as youthful as the day she'd first met him. Even then she had been quite young and now she was his senior. Physically at least.

    Catherine: "Britt!"

    She walked towards him, opened her arms and embraced him in a warm hug. The rough leather coat is coat under her skin but his hug is the friendliest thing she has felt in years. He didn't look like the man he once was, despite his continued youth. Once he was a man of beautiful clothes, top hats, canes and all that decent sensibility for the Victorian age ought to allow a London gent. Now, however, he seems more the Northerner. Rough, unkempt and his clothes appear well-worn. A leather coat, cut at the knees, and old, dirty boots. His hair is much longer, uncared for, and he had the early makings of a full beard on his face. She had thought he would be unchanged, at least physically, but it seemed that time does affect him as much as any mortal man. She supposed during his Britt Sleep his body ceases such formalities only to resume them once he awoke.

    Catherine: "It's great to see you."

    Britt: "Likewise."

    Catherine: "Except that I am now an old hag."

    Britt: "Yes. Yes you are."

    Catherine: "Hey!"

    She playfully smacked his shoulder.

    Britt: "I hope you haven't come here looking to shout at me for that last party I was at..."

    Her mood shifted and she put her hands on her hips.

    Catherine: "For months I thought I'd kissed you under that mistletoe."

    Britt: "I know. Sorry. I didn't have the heart to tell you."

    Catherine: "I had to hear it from my own son. He was very entertained at least. That bloody Dorian Gray. I should never have let him come."

    Britt: "Or maybe you shouldn't have been so drunk you couldn't tell who you were snogging with?"

    Catherine: "Why? I was single and looking for love! Can you blame me?"

    Britt: "You don't need to be blind drunk to find love, you know?"

    Catherine: "You really do sound older than me now."

    Britt: "I am older!"

    Catherine: "But you still don't look it."

    Britt shrugged and took out a cigarette, lit it and began puffing away.

    Catherine: "I suppose it's lucky it wasn't you anyway. Your wife wouldn't have been very happy with us..."

    Britt paused. His smile faded and he drew lengthily on his cigarette. He blew smoke upwards into the air, then turned from her and approached the pedestal.

    Britt: "I'm pretty sure you didn't come all the way here just to see me, Catherine. You're here for this, right?"

    She registered that mentioning his wife was still a sore subject. It made more sense now, his disappearance. His wife, Lottie, died two years ago in Bath. Old, like Catherine now, while he watched over her in his eternal youth... unable to join her in death. She thought he should have moved on by now, but the heart of an immortal surely doesn't work like that of a human. Catherine had never gotten over the death of her first husband, Erro Simon, but she had found love elsewhere. Almost believed she had fallen in love with Britt until it turned out to be Dorian. Lucky escape that time.

    But thinking of her dead husband brought her mind to the reason she was here. She stepped up onto the platform and looked at the bowl.

    Catherine: "There's something wrong with me, Britt."

    Britt: "It's all that cheese you keep eating. It's addled your brain."

    She shoved him again.

    Catherine: "Give over. I'm being serious. There's something wrong with... my brain. My memories. Something..."

    Britt tossed the cigarette to the floor and stamped it out. He sniffed purposefully.

    Britt: "That half explains why you're here. But... Catherine... this is an extreme measure. It's only meant for people that truly need it. People who have been abused, hurt, corrupted, twisted, hated, wounded by life... people that need to be... reincarnated. This isn't some kind of little fix..."

    "I'm well aware. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extreme. I keep... I keep seeing Erro..."

    Britt: "I think of people often too..."

    Catherine: "Not like that. My memories... they're invading reality. I think. I hear him... his voice... sometimes he speaks to me. His voice is strange but I can tell it's him. Sometimes I see him watching me but when I go near he flees from me. I swear, I'm going mad! I got over this many years ago, you know I did... but the past three years... this has been happening..."

    Britt: "You're old, your brain is playing tricks on you."

    Catherine: "Exactly why I need your help!"

    Britt: "But Catherine-- your family!"

    Catherine: "All my friends, all my family, they're all gone Britt. There's only... my son. He doesn't need me any longer."

    Britt: "Catherine... anyone else I wouldn't bother to question. It's their choice. But you're my friend. I can't allow you to do this so flippantly."

    Catherine: "There's nothing flippant about seeing dead people, Britt! You're not being fair! You said it yourself, it's my choice! Please, Britt, I'm asking you as your friend. I need your help."

    Britt fumbled with something in his pocket.

    Britt: "You'll forget your son. You'll forget me... you'll forget we ever existed. You'll forget your husband. You'll forget the League of Heroes. You'll forget... everything that happened to you."

    Catherine: "Good. You forget yourself, Britt. I have been through the worst kinds of abuse and I have never rid myself of those nightmares. I learnt not to dwell because I had my son and my friends. Now... I don't know. My husband, when I see him... he's not... he's dark. Shrouded."

    Britt looked at her. He saw her wrinkles, her sagging skin, but he saw the same eyes - perfectly round and large as they always were.

    Catherine: "Please, Bestower of Bliss..."

    He took out a flask and popped the cap. He poured some into the wooden bowl. Instantly a flowery aroma perfumes the air, the first pleasant smell Catherine had experienced since the countryside around the city.

    Britt: "From the River Lethe. Drink."


    Britt: "Goodbye Miss Gray. It was a pleasure meeting you."

    He bowed and the old woman waved to him from the door before she closed it. It was a big house that Britt had furnished with the most expensive stuff he could find in Liverpool. He avoided the city centre and found a nice townhouse on the outskirts of town where the richer folks still lived, even in this day and age. Britt was surprised there were any rich people left in Liverpool after the colonial period was over, still there was trade and trade was the heart of this city. He chuckled to himself for giving her the name Gray. Old Catherine would have hated him for it.

    He kicked a random pebble and it scuttled along the cobblestones until it hit a wall. The sudden skittering of stone scared a random cat and it ran as fast as its little legs could carry it.

    Britt: "Sorry kitten."

    He mumbled to himself.

    That was the hardest job he'd done so far and the first time he felt bad about doing it. He would check on her later today, make sure she was growing used to her new life. The new memories ought to be taking hold easily enough so long as the woman stays away from cheese and crackers for a few days.

    As he walked down the street, Christmas Eve was drawing to its twilight and gentle drop of snow descended upon the evening street. People in these parts didn't have the money for trees and decorations, but they did what they could with with twigs and branches. Christmas and, soon, New Year's would have come and gone, relegated to the past. He paused and stared at the muddy old cobblestone. A few more years and these cobblestones would be gone.

    As he continued walking he began to mumble a song to himself. 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot..."


    Outside the warehouse the street was quiet as usual. Christmas Day had wrapped its cold embrace around England and the winter chill was bestowing Liverpool with a thin layer of snow. By midday most of that snow would be mud, but the children would be getting up early to roll around it in first. Sunrise, however, was still an hour off and darkness was the streets only visitor. At least it was until a strange bubbling of time grumbled and ached in the centre of the street. It popped and wheezed until, with a dull bang, it exploded into the physical proportions of a human being.

    Since the earliest days of colonialism, Liverpool had one of the earliest settlements of black people and the area of Toxteth was already a vibrant area of mixed races and cultures. So a black woman being in Liverpool during 1909 was perfectly normal. A black woman appearing from a bubbling ripple in time was not. Fortunately the street was empty else there may have been riots or, at the very least, a man screaming about black time-travellers. He may have been disregarded as balmy, yet he would have been absolutely correct.

    Apple fell to her knees and panted. She'd only tried this time-travelling nonsense three times and every time it was hard work. She was pretty sure this time was easier. Less of the bubbling. The first time she levelled a park bench. It wasn't as impressive as levelling a town or even a building, but it probably inconvenienced some homeless people looking for a make-shift bed.

    She got to her feet and fell against the nearest wall. The snow falling on her head was doing much to bring her to her senses. The chill, the wet, the desire to escape it. She staggered down the street. She didn't even know why she bothered to time-travel here. She only moved a couple of minutes through time, but she supposed it saved her the weeks of journeying up from London it would otherwise have taken.

    Stories of magical men rarely spread beyond their own towns or cities, restricted to local superstition because everyone knows it's completely rubbish - unless it happened in their town then it must be true! But the story of a time-travelling magic man had wormed its way back to Apple.

    She was well-aware of her past, daughter of Losien Simon and mother to herself, being raised by Master Arkng Thand, fighting Michael McLongname, being bullied by her grandmother, Polly Simon. Yet that freak accident during the swarming time-jump had sent her spiralling across time-and-space. She only regarded herself as lucky to wind up back on Earth at all. She could have ended up on the moon two thousand years ago. Her time-travelling journey would have been short-lived. Instead she wound up in Victorian England. Since then she'd been piecing together her life. That time-travel explosion had awakened something within her. Deep, deep down in the dark recesses of her mind there had been something lurking. Many somethings. But from the incident emerged just one something. One Potential. Chronos. Apple wasn't sure if she was still Apple or if she is Chronos. She felt like she was both. But Chronos was becoming ever more prominent, taking over all that was once Apple.

    She reached the door and pushed. It ground open, scraping along the floor with a loud metal shriek. If the magic man didn't know she was coming, he did now.

    Like her predecessor she saw the room's layout, the pedestal and the bowl. Aside from her new-found time powers, she had always been able to become invisible. A superpower she had gotten from her mother - from herself then. A self-perpetuating power apparently. She shudders at the absolute paradox that was her own existence. Her body shimmers into transparency. It's too cold to be removing her heavy cloak and wandering around this warehouse naked (the only time she could achieve true invisibility) but the place is pretty dark, which should cover her rippling figure well enough. She snuck through the warehouse and skirted round the edge of the platform.

    Britt: "That's weird. Could have sworn I heard that door..."

    The man appeared and marched for the warehouse door, missing the rippling form hidden by shadow. Apple watched him. A white man wearing an old, worn leather jacket that was clearly typical for the period of any travelling man. Not the image of a modern man. She doubted whether this was the man she truly sought but she saw no other option.

    Apple: "You're looking for me."

    She stepped out of the shadow. At the sound of her voice the man jumped and squealed like a six-year-old girl. Apple rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips.

    Britt: "Oh. It's just you."

    Apple frowned.

    Apple: "Yes... it is... me..."

    Britt took out a cigarette and lit it. He looked at her expectantly but when she wasn't forthcoming he took the *** from his mouth and blew out the smoke as he asked her;

    Britt: "What do you want? I haven't been breaking any laws."

    Apple: "You... know me?"

    It was then Britt's turn to frown.

    Britt: "You forgot me already? Yeah. You were with me and my descendent when you got trapped because you... ate people. Or something. I actually never understood what the heck you actually did to those guys. But you were really sick afterwards. And you had bad gas."

    Apple: "Are you drunk?"

    Britt: "What? No! The NeSferatu guy? Tried to kill you and steal your time powers? Remember that?"

    Apple: "No..."

    Britt: "I'm beginning to wonder if you've been here before..."

    Apple: "I think... I think you've met my future self."

    Britt: "Oh man... time travel. It warps the mind."

    Apple: "My future self met your past self..."

    Britt: "And we travelled to the past of the Earth too. So... double past because we were already in the past. So..."

    Apple: "Okay, forget it..."

    Britt shrugged. He remembered the last time they had this conversation she had been more than keen to spout out time-related semantics and confuse the Hell out of him, not the other way around. He supposed this woman really was the past version of the time-travelling god he'd once met.

    Apple: "Speaking of which... I heard about your... services..."

    Britt coughed in surprise.

    Britt: "You make me sound like a whore."

    Apple seemed unamused and so Britt continued;

    Britt: "Yes. The power to forget. Drink of the River Lethe and you'll forget your old life and be reincarnated as a new person. It's not breaking any time rules! I think."

    Apple: "It works?"

    Britt nodded and flicked the remains of his cigarette away.

    Apple: "How much?"

    Britt: "I don't charge."

    Apple: "Not a whore then..."

    Britt chuckled. There was something still in her then.

    Apple: "I want it."

    Britt: "I told you, I'm not a whore. But hey, I'm willing to ser--"

    Apple: "The draught."

    Britt blinked with surprise.

    Britt: "Uh... you want to drink and forget yourself?"

    Apple: "I... can't stand my life this way. I'm... two people. I need to forget everything. Start again."

    Britt faltered. He wanted to help, that's why he did this. But now he feared the worst. How could he help her when the result may be... devastating.

    Britt: "I can't."

    Apple: "What? Why!?"

    Britt: "If you forget everything, forget who you are... then I'd never even be here to give you the draught at all. A time paradox, you see?"

    Apple: "I don't care about that!"

    Britt: "Wow. You're really not the Chronos I know."

    Apple: "Chronos? That's how you know me?"

    Britt: "That's right. In fact, you gave me this..."

    He whipped out his trusty old time-travelling passport and waggled it at her. She snatched it and gazed at it.

    Apple: "What's a T.E.A.?"

    Britt scoffed at explaining her own ideas to her.

    Britt: "Time Enforcement Agency. You're like... the boss of... Time Cops. I think. You weren't the most forthcoming of people I've ever met. But you did make it abundantly clear that I should mess up time. And taking your memories would do just that."

    Apple stared at the card, mesmerised by it. Britt was often the same but that was because of the shiny foil not the revelation of a future she never conceived of. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head.

    Britt: "Look, I don't know what problems you're having but clearly they're resolved in the future. You don't ne--"

    She threw the card to the floor and lunged at him, hands grasping for the vial he held in his hand. He'd intended just to show her but suddenly he was fighting to keep hold of it. She thumped him in the stomach and he reeled. She was clearly capable of fighting and intended to win this bout. She snatched the vial and popped the cap but then paused and looked at it. That was Britt's chance to get it back. He sprayed a burst of warm tea into Apple's face, blinding her, and he snatched back the vial.

    Britt: "Only one way to stop you..."

    Apple: "No!"

    Britt: "Just remember you bloody owe me in your future, okay!?"

    He throws back the vial and the cold, cold liquid trickled down his throat. All of it. He'd never given anyone so much before. Only a small drop was ever needed. He has no idea what will happen to him now. He has had a stupidly long life, perhaps drinking all this will only erase half those memories...

    He dropped the vial and it splintered on the floor.

    Britt: "Just make sure you give me a good life after this..."

    Apple: "You stole my opportunity... for what!?"

    Britt: "Well for you!"

    She gasped.

    Britt: "So you don't come back here and kick my arse."


    KickArse straightened his red tie, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a jet black suit consisting of a shirt, trousers, shoes with only the almost luminous red tie to break up the mould. His dark hair was slicked back and trimmed down. He was allowed to keep his stubbly beard at least.

    KickArse: "Does she really intend to make us wear this?"

    Rain, one of KickArse's two partners in time, was sat on the armchair in the corner of the room. She, like him, was wearing the new uniform that their boss wanted them to wear. It was strange to see a woman wearing trousers, even post Victorian-age. In her hand she held three small, silver balls which she rolled around and around like an addictive action.

    Rain: "I don't see the problem. It's just a uniform."

    Behind KickArse was his second partner, Frankie Burton. She was sat atop of the table with her left leg crossed over the right. Unlike the other two she wasn't wearing a uniform at all. Instead she wore a black dress, with a lot of fanciful lace and a green jewel between her breasts. Over it she had a black-tweed jacket that has a tight waist-cut. That waist was maintained by a black leather corset she decided to wear on the outside of her dress. Her black hair was cast upwards until it then streamed over her shoulders in curls, a popular style amongst much younger Victorian women. She did look quite a bit younger if not for the flecks of grey that were spread throughout her barnet.

    Frankie Burton:
    "You're such a wet whistle, miladdo."

    KickArse: "Says the one not wearing a stupid uniform."

    Frankie Burton: "Age before beauty, sport."

    She plumped her hair.

    Frankie Burton: "Then again, I got both."

    While Rain had an obsession with metal spheres, Frankie had an addiction to something rather more potent. She slipped a small flask, coloured pink, and sipped from it. Laudanum. Apparently for the aches and pains she was prone to, at least she claimed.

    Finally their boss entered the room. Chronos. She wore a black cloak, concealing everything about her save for her dark-skinned face.

    Chronos: "The TEA is now a month old. Congratulations on making it so far."

    KickArse jumped to his feet.

    KickArse: "Time-travelling time!"

    Chronos handed each of them a small passport card. KickArse flipped it open to see his details and the black-and-white photo that was taken of him when he first joined the TEA. He was listed as "Agent KickArse". He grinned at it.

    KickArse: "How does it work?"

    Chronos: "I've put some of my power into it. Just hold your thumb on the surface, it'll react to your imprint and then you say the time you want to go to and you'll go there."

    KickArse: "Alright! I want to go to the future! Take me to the year 2000!!!"

    A wind blew out from the passport and swirlled around him. Then, anticlimatically, the wind dropped and he was still standing in the TEA HQ.

    Frankie Burton: "Well done, sport. You time-travelled to the present. Colour me impressed."

    She tittered.

    KickArse: "Why didn't it work?"

    Chronos: "You can time-travel that far. Right now you can only go one or two years ahead or behind of the present."

    KickArse looked despondent.

    Chronos: "Besides, you shouldn't be sodding off anywhere just yet! I tell you when and where to go!"

    KickArse nervously stroked the back of his head and laughed off his impertinence.

    KickArse: "Derp!"

    Chronos: "And this mission is kind of... major."

    Frankie Burton: "We're all at attention, dear."

    Chronos: "There's another group of time-travellers that want to change history. Obviously, as we're Time Cops, we've got to stop them from doing that."

    KickArse: "Why do they want to change time?"

    Chronos: "Don't ask that. All you need to know for now is that you must stop them from killing a baby."

    KickArse: "They want to kill a baby!? That's pretty extreme!"

    "Should be easy then, right? Okay, I'll give you the address. Get out there and protect that evil baby."

    KickArse: "Evil?"

    Chronos: "Uh, I mean, cute. Yeah. Cute, cute baby."

    The three Time Cops stand together and push their passports. Uttering the date and location, 1900 in Austria-Hungary, they travelled back in time to a far-off European country. The moment they appeared they heard gunshots. At first KickArse thought they were too late, but then he realised those gunshots were aimed at them!

    The three of them scattered. Frankie Burton found a motorcar, Rain found a shed and KickArse got a hedge.

    KickArse: "Uh... hedge doesn't seem very bullet-proof..."

    Bullets coursed their way through the foliage of the hedgerow and KickArse scrambled along to escape. The only protection the plant did provide was obscurity so the bullets missed him constantly. As he ran, however, he realised he was about to run out of hedge. Rain, seeing this, held out her hand. In front of KickArse a metal wall materialised, melting upwards into a solid sheet that the Time Cop leapt behind, taking cover. KickArse heard bullets ping off of Rain's metallic wall. He had no idea where Rain's power came from but he was very grateful for it.

    KickArse: "Who the bollocks is shooting at us?"

    Rain, from her shed, shouted back;

    Rain: "How should I know!? I'm all the way over here!?"

    Even at this distance her bright purple bob-cut looked like a vibrant bellflower sticking out from the shed. She then quickly scurried over to his position and pinned herself against the metal wall, panting. She was always a nervous girl and the pressure of combat didn't seem to harden her resolve much. The bullets seemed to have stopped and so KickArse risked a glance. Instantly he pulled himself back down as bullets came sailing at him from aimed pistols.

    KickArse: "I count just one bloke. Tall. White hair... red skin..."

    Rain: "Red skin? Have you been drinking Frankie's secret syrup again?"

    KickArse: "Seriously. Red skin. Like he's been sitting in the sun for far, far too long."

    Rain stuck her hand out from the wall and let off a series of small, ping-pong ball sized metal spheres that whizzed across the small, dirt path at their assailant. They heard no yell, only the return of bullet fire.

    KickArse: "You missed."

    Rain: "I couldn't aim!"

    The sky then began to grow dark. They turned to see Frankie Burton soar up into the sky on a trail of absolute night that spread across the landscape. Far off KickArse could see the clear-cut line between day and night that Frankie was creating. The dark swept over them and KickArse felt a strange kind of oppression from it, a harsh heat on his skin. He poked his head over, certain the sudden darkness would district their foe. He was right and KickArse held his own hand out to fire off the special power he'd been granted with. Tea hurtled through the air and slammed down into the red-skinned menace, knocking him from his feet.

    Then, suddenly, KickArse heard a woman's voice in his ear;

    Woman: "Britt."

    KickArse jumped and turned to see nobody. He looked down at Rain.

    KickArse: "Did you say something?"

    Rain: "I said well done."

    She got to her feet and peeked over the metal wall.

    Rain: "You should go and arrest him."

    KickArse: "Me!? Why me!?"

    Rain: "Because you got that last hit?"

    KickArsed grumbled as he walked across the dirt path to his fallen foe. The red-skinned man was suddenly on his feet again. They both looked at the period pistol on the ground then at each other. They both leapt at it. The red man was faster. KickArse held his hands up in surrender and the man stood there, gun aimed.

    Man: "You need to back off."

    KickArse took a couple of steps back.

    Man: "I didn't mean literally! I meant you and your fellow cops need to retreat from the situation."

    KickArse: "Wow! You know we're time police!? News of us spread really fast!"

    The man rolled his eyes.

    Man: "Seriously, dude, time! I'm obviously not from the present, I'm from the future. Numb nuts."

    KickArse: "Numbing nuts? Is that how you intend to subdue us!?"

    The man tilted his head and squinted at KickArse.

    Man: "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

    KickArse: "What? Like in the future? That's great! That means you don't kill me, right!?"

    The man scoffed.

    Man: "I'm here to change time. That's kind of what we do."

    KickArse: "Oh. You mean there are other red-skinned people changing time with you?"

    Man: "Wha-? My skin has nothing to do with it! Are you racist!?"

    KickArse: "What!? No! I thought maybe it was your uniform or something. Mine's this stupid outfit. Hate it. It itches like crazy."

    Man: "I'm salmitton."

    KickArse: "Oh. Hello Salmitton. It's nice to meet you."

    Man: "That's my species, dude! My race! My people! Numb nuts!"

    KickArse: "No! Please! Don't use your numb nuts!"

    Man: "That's not-- nevermind. Look, from the era, I know you're probably newbies to the TEA. You don't know what kind of hot water you're getting yourself into here."

    KickArse: "Newbies? Oh! We are certainly newbies! Newbiest of the newbies! We're the first Time Cops ever!"

    The man looked at KickArse with sudden admiration.

    Man: "Huh. I'd always wondered what you looked like. In fact... looking at you... I knew I recognised your face! You've changed your hair and that beard but... you're definitely the one..."

    KickArse: "Uh... the one? I'm not really that kind of man. I am a confirmed womaniser, actually."

    Man: "What? No! You're the one that killed my brother!!"

    KickArse tensed and he rose his hands in the air again. The salmitton approached him, then raised his own hand into the air.

    Man: "High five, dude! My brother was an arsehole."

    KickArse looked at the red hand.

    KickArse: "High five? You mean your fingers?"

    The man slapped KickArse's own raised hand.

    Man: "My name's Coarse."

    KickArse nodded knowingly.

    KickArse: "Yeah, so's mine. It's supposed to mean that I can kick arse, or something, but I think my parents were just cruel."

    Coarse: "No, I mean my name is Coarse."

    KickArse: "Oh right. Guess your parents were almost as cruel as mine. So. Sorry about your brother. I think you've mixed me up with someone else though."

    Coarse: "It was definitely you. Britt. I read the report. My brother wanted to overthrow the government of Jupiter but..."

    KickArse's mind had gone somewhere else. He saw the black emptiness of space dotted by stars, colours of a nebula, and, as he turned, he saw a woman. A woman who seemed to fill the entirety of space. Her eyes were the size of planets, her breasts--

    Space Woman: "Do we need a comparison for breasts? Honestly?"

    Just trying to helping the reader grasp the enormity of your... being.

    Coarse: "And I was like 'whoa!' and he was like 'whoa...' and I was like 'whooooa!'! Crazy times. But seriously, dude, you need to leave. TEA's jurisdiction doesn't cover this situation."

    KickArse blinked.

    KickArse: "What?"

    Coarse sighed and whipped out his own documentation and handed it over to KickArse. The Time Cop looked down with extreme envy. It was another time badge, only this time it was way shinier than his own simple passport.

    KickArse: "This says you're a Time Cop too! Wait. What does SSTTA stand for?"

    Coarse shuffled his feet.

    Coarse: "Super Secret Time Travel Agency."

    KickArse burst into laughter and Coarse snatched his badge back.

    Coarse: "Laugh it up, new kid. This means I'm a higher rank than you. The SSTTA is a super secret division of the TEA. You're here to reinforce time restrictions, we're around to break them."

    KickArse: "Whoa!? Seriously!? Would Chronos approve of that!?"

    Coarse: "Who?"

    KickArse: "The boss."

    "You mean the Mysterious Person? Wow. You actually know her name? That's... almost surreal. Now I know it! Don't ever tell the boss I know their name, okay? You shouldn't ever tell anyone ever again!"

    KickArse: "Alright, alright. Paranoid much."

    Coarse: "So, you chumps are going to clear out, right?"

    KickArse glanced back and saw Rain peeking over the metal wall. At his glance she disappeared back behind its protection. KickArse rolled his eyes.

    KickArse: "I supposed. I'm not sure what the boss is going to say to all this though."

    Coarse: "Well-- ack!"

    From behind Frankie Burton appeared and instantly had the super secret time cop in an arm lock that was most undignified for any lady to be performing.

    Frankie Burton: "Quick! Kick him in the bollocks!"

    KickArse: "What!? No!"

    Frankie Burton: "This is no time to be playing cricket, boyo! Kick him hard enough that his kids will feel the sting!"

    KickArse: "No! No! Frankie! He's a Time Cop like us!"

    Coarse: "I'm from a different department! The spy department! Lemme go you crazy witch!"

    Frankie Burton: "Did you hear what he just called me, KickArse? Now you're really in for a kicking, me old chum!"

    Coarse: "Waaaaargh!"

    She tossed him to the ground, sans pistol, and pinned him down with her black parasol.

    Coarse: "Ouch... you are a really crazy woman..."

    Frankie Burton: "You don't know the half of it, miladdie."

    She pushed the parasol harder into his chest.

    After much cajoling with Frankie and a flash of the passport, the woman finally let the salmitton go.

    Frankie Burton: "Why are you red?"

    Coarse: "Why are you white?"

    Frankie Burton: "I was born white."

    Coarse: "I was born red."

    Frankie Burton: "And so we reach the crux of the question, where do red people come from?"

    Coarse: "Mars."

    Frankie Burton: "Mars?"

    She rolled her eyes.

    Frankie Burton: "Must be one of those American towns, right? Americans. You know there's hundreds of Londons over there? They even had the gall to name a place Athens. In the same country as a London. Uncouth. That's what I call the wretches."

    KickArse: "Maybe you can tell us your mission so we can report back to the boss, Coarse?"

    KickArse waved over Rain who, reluctantly, walked towards them after dismantling the metal wall.

    Coarse: "To kill an evil dictator responsible for the deaths of many, many people. Genocide they called it."

    The three of them blinked.

    KickArse: "Wow. That... is extreme. This happens in the future? Must be the near future!?"

    Coarse nodded gravely.

    KickArse: "It's hard to imagine. But the boss said... said he's a baby?"

    Coarse: "Now yes. We kill him now and that whole timestream is altered. No mass murder."

    KickArse: "But... a baby?"

    Frankie Burton: "Usually I think KickArse is a wet blanket, but even I have to draw the line at killing wee berns. It's just inhuman."

    Coarse: "I guess it's lucky I'm not a human then?"

    Frankie Burton: "You're a monster then?"

    Coarse: "Someone has to be. Fight fire with fire. Kill evil with and evil act."

    KickArse: "I... don't think we can let you do this, Coarse. Even if you outrank us from the future... killing an innocent baby. He doesn't know anything of that life yet. Now he's just a child without evil thoughts..."

    Coarse: "Then I wish you hadn't asked me..."

    They stood there awkwardly for a moment but then, suddenly, Coarse flung something to the ground. There was a loud bang and a flash and KickArse was completely blinded and deafened. He reeled and bumped into someone. They both fell to the ground together. When his vision began to return he realised it was poor Rain. They both struggled to regain some modicum of decency but wound up in an awkward struggle with each other that looked like they were trying to out-grope other.

    Frankie Burton: "If you pair have finished fondling each other, the wee sod is escaping."

    KickArse managed to get to his feet and was immediately off after the super secret TEA spy. The moon that had replaced the sun seemed to glow ever more brilliantly and cast light across the green field and lit up the path after the salmitton. Ahead of them they could see a small, quaint cottage. Rain threw metal orbs off across the field at the spy but he was in the house long before the spheres reached their target and they ploughed through the walls of the cottage and crashed out the other side. They were almost at the house when it suddenly exploded in a humongous burst of flame. The two cops fell back from the sudden force and stared in shock and horror at the flames.

    KickArse: "He actually did it didn't he? He killed the little boy?"

    And so, unbeknownst to KickArse, Frankie or Rain, Coarse had changed history. The dictator was killed and never rose to command armies across Europe, killing minority groups as he went. That boy's name was... Gustav Blokestadt. You've never heard of him? That's because he's dead. Instead Adolf Hitler rose to power and killed way more people than old Gustav Blokestadt could have. The attempt to alter time by the SSTTA, this time, was an utter failure in the case book and Coarse was put on cleaning duty as punishment.

    KickArse pulled out his passport. Their first mission was also a complete failure and he wondered if he was worthy of this passport at all. He had a lot of explaining to do. His hand ran over the paper. Then his mind was elsewhere again. He saw the massive woman. He floated through space, drifting about level with her head - yet thousands of light-years away from her.

    Space Woman: "Britt..."

    KickArse: "Who's Britt?"

    Space Woman: "You are Britt."

    KickArse: "I'm KickArse!"

    Space Woman: "You are Britt and you are a foolish little human. You drank of the River Lethe and you forgot your long, long life."

    Her huge arm moved and held her hand beneath him. He looked down and could hardly see it in its entirety, even though it was so far away from him.

    KickArse: "What are you?"

    Space Woman: "I am the centre of the galaxy. I am of those that came before. We birthed your gods. We were overthrown by them and now serve as the heart and soul for your existence... I am Mnemosyne. I represent the memory of Stories. I am am the past, the history, the legend of Stories. You are my avatar, little one."

    KickArse: "I am?"

    Mnemosyne: "Through you I create the past of the Story. Your Story is the past of a greater Story."

    KickArse: "It is?"

    Mnemosyne: "I don't remember creating you to be this simple-minded..."

    Her gigantic hand snapped its finger and instantly all of Britt's memories came flooding back to him like a rush of oxygen straight to the brain.

    Britt: "Oh wow. That was amazing."

    Mnemosyne: "I can't have you forgetting everything half-way through your Story, Britt. I commend your self-sacrifice... but don't do it again, understood?"

    Britt nodded.

    Britt: "Yes, Ms Space Lady."

    Mnemosyne: "I just told you my name's Mnemosyne."

    Britt: "That's way too difficult for me to remember."

    Mnemosyne: "Hmmm. My only real question is this, little avatar... where, on Earth, did you get that water?"

    Britt grinned.

    Britt: "That would be a secret!"

    The woman smiled.

    "Indeed. A tale for another time, perhaps? Well then. Go back and continue your journey. Try not to fear The End of your Story, Britt. You were only ever meant to bring life to the past, the memories of a much larger and greater Story."

    Britt soured.

    Britt: "Because I should care about this other Story?"

    Mnemosyne: "Yes. You should."


    Then Britt woke up. He was in a room.

    Britt: "Where the Hell am I?"

    Chronos: "Welcome back to the world of the living, KickArse."

    Britt: "Kick... arse?"

    His memory was fuzzy. He remembered, clearly, being in the warehouse with Chronos. But then he remembered other people... Frankie Burton, Rain, Coarse... a gigantic sexy space woman...

    Britt: "Do I smell laudanum?"

    Chronos: "You were in pain, it seemed..."

    Britt: "Explains a lot... dreams, man. Where are we?"

    Chronos: "TEA HQ."

    Britt: "Oh. You started up the company then?"

    Chronos frowned at him, then spoke very slowly.

    Chronos: "What's your name?"

    Britt: "We're not seriously going to do this again, are we? I'm Britt! Britt the guy from your future!"

    Chronos: "Oh. Welcome back Britt."

    Britt: "TEA HQ... that's in London, right?"

    Chronos: "It is."

    Britt: "I should go and pay someone a visit. I have to tell him that his mother has... passed on."

    Chronos nodded.

    Chronos: "Alright. Before you go, I just want to say... thanks. You helped me a lot."

    Britt got to his feet and stretched. His limbs felt like they'd been unmoving for years.

    Britt: "No problem. I kind of remember some stuff and I think I need to thank you too. Seems you took care of me."

    Chronos: "You wish I had..."

    Britt: "Hey, I told you - I'm not a whore."

    He grinned and left.
    Arkng Thand: "Centre of the galaxy...? Could it be possible? The Titans of mythology are real?"

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