Trichess, Part 4 continued
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The little light's beam reflected from dark screens. It was deactivated!
BROOKLYN: Naw, it's just on screensaver.
There was absolutely no trace of the Autobots.
"Su-per!" Magic remarked, frustrated. "You rush to the police to report a kidnapping, and then someone has kidnapped the cops..."
CYRWAY: Even if those who were kidnapped were the bad guys...
GECKO: The morality of the situation is making my head hurt.
She tried to reach the controls, hoping to get a little bit of life into the computer brain. But for Cybertronian proportions, she was simply too small. And there was nothing she could do.
Depressed like a dog with a muzzle inside a butcher shop, she dropped against the wall. It was, in fact, not a wall but the lower part of the computer's console.
BROOKLYN: Face it...you're too short to ride the Six Lasers over Cybertron rides.
Maybe she should get Pentacle inside to am...
GECKO: I love genius moments.
"Ouch!"
Something pricked.
CYRWAY: Starscream? Where?
GECKO: Pricked, not prick.
She must had hit something with her back that protruded off the metal. Magic took a closer look.
Wrong - the ping-pong-ball-sized object did not reach out of the wall; it was stuck to it by a gum-like mass.
CYRWAY: Poster putty...or plastique?
And, because there was written "Made in Taiwan" in small letters on the back of the longish capsule, it was definitely no Transformer creation.
GECKO: You have no proof of that.
After a well aimed kick, the thing had been stuck to the wall. Magic picked it up, glanced at it, and decided to examine it later. For the moment, it simply disappeared inside her pocket.
BROOKLYN: And into TrailorSpace.
GECKO: a.k.a. MalletSpace.
CYRWAY: a.k.a. SpandexSpace.
In this moment the light went on. Teletraan 1 activated its boot-routine. Something clicked suspiciously...
CYRWAY: And the engine finally turns over.
What would an intelligent computer do if it - after an unplanned deactivation - restarted relatively confused, finding no one of those who should be here, but an absolutely unknown intruder?
GECKO: Autoguns online!
Within microseconds, not only the question but also a fitting answer flashed brightly through Magic's mind.
BROOKLYN: I left the laundry in the washer!
"Security kill..! Bulllllssssshitttttt!!!!!!"
"RED ALERT! RED ALERT!
ALL THREE: WOO WOO WOO WOO WOO!!!
INTRUDER!INTRUDER!"
GECKO: *as Red Alert* You're all out to get me! Just because I'm security chief, you don't trust me!
The young woman jerked aside, and just that moment something ripped up the floor and exploded.
CYRWAY: Looks like Rattrap forgot some of his bellybombs when they left Earth.
She did not know what kind of projectile it was and she did not care about it either. It was absolutely enough for her to know that it could rip really big holes into metal floors! Magic's stomach contracted spasmodically, her neck hairs stood on end, her heart hammered, and icy shudders rushed down her back.
BROOKLYN: And let's not forget the fact she's not running at this point.
She managed also to escape the second blast. However, she did not know how long it would stay that way. She had to get out of here!
GECKO: Then what are you waiting for?!
Doubling like a rabbit that was hunted by a pack of hounds, she ran back the same way she came. Behind her the salvos of the defence systems ripped the floor.
"INTRUDER! RED ALERT! INTRUDER!"
CYRWAY: WOO WOO-- *BROOKLYN clamps a hand over her mouth*
GECKO: *as Red Alert.* Leave me alone!
Teletran's emotionless, monotone announcement,
CYRWAY: Which sounded like Cliffjumper on Ritalin...
and the siren's pulsing alarm roared inside her head. The noise mangled with the hammering beat behind her temples, and soon she thought her skull was about to burst!
"And I thought these were the good guys..." she gasped breathless.
BROOKLYN: Here in SNADville, they are the oppressors.
Actually she was not in the mood for stupid quotes, but in the moment this was the only way for her to keep from going completely mad.
Just a few meters more...! The corridor seemed to have no end. There was the exit and... Oh, no...! The gate was closed! This totally mad electronic brain had hermetically locked the Ark!
GECKO: *as Will Farrell* Oh, sweet irony!
Magic was as white as a sheet, nearly forgetting to breathe. Inside her mind, the thoughts turned upside down - she was unable to think clearly anymore. Her eyes desperately sought an escape. Nothing...! Not the thinnest gap!
CYRWAY: Sucks to be you.
She was like a wild animal in a deadly trap. Just a short, fatal hesitation... An infernal pain flashed through her body as the projectile ripped its way through the outer layers of her upper thigh's muscle.
BROOKLYN: There goes another fangirl.
Her lungs contracted jerkily, seemingly unwilling to continue their work anymore. She desperately tried to breathe again, while her stomach was about to get rid of its contents.
CYRWAY: Projectile vomit! *Giggles insanely*
Her legs refused to do their job, she stumbled, fell...
Her leg burned like fire...! Her entire body seemed to burn like hell! Every move seemed to be impossible... However - driven by her panic and the survival instinct, she managed somehow to get back on her feet and to go on, limping...
Sweat flooded down her body. She felt terribly sick... Around her the gunfire danced derisively.
If only this damned gate was open! This miserable, damned gate...!
There it was again, this mysterious flow... Energy pulsed through her veins...
GECKO: Should have known.
And... she screamed!
BROOKLYN: *falsetto* Oh my god, the pain! The pain!
This scream - first there was just a slight vibration to feel then the entire mountain started to tremble...
CYRWAY: And the part of Magic will now be played by Theresa Cassidy.
BROOKLYN: Who?
The rock shifted with a hollow roar of thunder. Stones fell like rain from the ceiling. The tension inside the rock increased immensely... Suddenly, with a screech that made Magic's eardrums seem ready to rupture, the gigantic gate burst.
CYRWAY: The Baen Sidhe strikes again.
GECKO: Magic: the classic dues ex machina of all fanfics.
On all fours, Magic managed to reach her Volkswagen.
She wished the pain and sickness would make her faint, but she was not able to lose consciousness.
BROOKLYN: No, losing consciousness would be a bad thing at this point.
Water... Her body had lost lots of water and salts. Behind the driver's seat had to be a half-full bottle of club-soda...
CYRWAY: Lime rickeys anyone?
Somehow, she did not know how, she opened the door.
GECKO: Took hold of the handle and pressed the little button.
There was the bottle. The water had lost its carbonation, it was warm, and tasted flat.
CYRWAY: Losing its carbonation would do that.
But at least it was water...
Magic's mind cleared a bit. Exhausted, she laid against Pentacle's side and looked at her leg.
It had only been a grazing shot; nevertheless, the blast had burned a deep wound into her upper thigh. Flesh, skin,
GECKO: Same diff.
and the material of her jeans had mangled to become a indefinable mass of ugly color. Not an appetizing sight.
BROOKLYN: No, I imagine not.
The wound hammered furiously, and it burned as if someone had poured acid into it. It was beyond endurance.
GECKO: Let it bleed, let it scar!
CYRWAY: This isn't the Peacekeepers, dear.
"Let the pain through, Magic!" she said to herself. "Don't resist, let it through."
The infernal burning caused pearls of sweat
GECKO: "She wore a pearl necklace!"
to run over her pale face while she tried to relax.
"Let it through..."
At last, her nerves gave up resistance, her body surrendering to the pain. Certain to be victorious, it ravingly, quickly burned up into her brain, increased to the infinite degree... Magic breathed shallowly, was about to strain again, but with strong will, she managed to remain relaxed. Gastric acid crept up her gullet...
BROOKLYN: Pleasant imagery.
Again the burning increased, then it stopped abruptly. She did it, the endorphines did their job! At last...
CYRWAY: Hooray for endorphines!
With trembling hands, the young woman wiped the sweat off her face. She was completely exhausted.
No - she was not able to stand up... She was tired... So vastly tired...
The warm, dry earth below her, lying against Pentacles intimate metal, she fell asleep.
GECKO: *nods off and starts snoring*
6.
Metal, plain metal...
"Megatron?"
Magic slowly regained consciousness.
No, it was not her mate. The metal was cold, not warmed by life-giving Energon. It was just a lifeless, metallic blue brushed VW-Beetle.
CYRWAY: "just" a lifeless Beetle. Feh. Shows how much she thinks of cars.
Megatron still was far away - far away and without consciousness.
Magic tiredly opened the eyes. The lids were still like lead.
It was dark already. She must have slept for hours. The wind had cooled down. A fresh breeze had her woke up.
GECKO: *farts*
BROOKLYN: Dude, that was foul.
Nearly a hundred meters away, light which came out of the wall of rocks indicated the Ark's entrance.
She still felt heavily dizzy. Her brain seemed to be made of cotton. Only slowly, she remembered what had happened.
GECKO: I was attacked by a cabbit who was defending her carrots...
Carefully, she tried to move her leg. Surprisingly, it worked without problems. Her upper thigh did not cause her any pain, it did not even hammer anymore.
"You probably have so much morphine in your blood that every vampire would become a junkie," she noticed dryly.
BROOKLYN: Where did the morphine come from?
"You shouldn't drive in your actual condition... but, what has to be done, must be done!"
CYRWAY: Friends don't let friends drive Fords.
Tiredly she rolled to the side to get her extremities somehow into a position that allowed her to stand up. It was not only her brain that seemed to be made of cotton; the stuff seemed to be in her joints, too.
GECKO: We replaced Magic's cartillidge with highly absorbent cotton! Let's see if she notices!
Except for the place in front of the spaceship's stern, it was pitch-dark outside. There was not a star at the firmament, all were covered by a thick layer of clouds.
Magic dropped heavily on the driver's seat, buckled up, and started Pentacle's engine.
CYRWAY: Gonna be difficult to drive with only one functioning leg.
BROOKLYN: Couldn't it be an automatic?
CYRWAY: Not an old Beetle...they had a semi-automatic transmission, but you had to tap the brake to clutch it.
GECKO: There goes Cliff again.
About one and a half hour later, when she reached the suburbs of her hometown where the broad streets were illuminated, she dared to look again at her upper thigh ... The next moment she came to a full stop, somehow manoeuvring her car onto the shoulder.
GECKO: Festering wound!
Jerkily, and with the safety-belt trying to entangle her, the Beetle stopped. Magic took a deep breath, strongly shook her head, and looked at her leg again. There was no wound! There was not even the smallest scratch! Only her jeans had a large hole. And the evil-looking carbon layer that covered the hole's edge had been skin once. But her leg was completely unharmed! Not a scar - nothing!
BROOKLYN: And the denim that was sutured to the wound...?
"That's impossible!" Magic gasped. "My name's not MacLeod...!
ALL THREE: There can be only one!
CYRWAY: Actually, Duncan MacLeod was adopted--
BROOKLYN and GECKO smack her.
Damn... How long did I sleep... ?"
According to her watch, it had been about ten, eleven hours. Stupidly the thing did not show the date... When she started again, she felt like she had swallowed an ant-hill. She had to find out the actual date.
GECKO: Ripp Van Winkle syndrome.
CYRWAY: Clutch!
Al Hancock,
GECKO: Who?
Theodore Hancock's son,
BROOKLYN: That explains a lot. Not.
stood behind the bar of his father's small fast food restaurant, wiping dry some glasses. There was not much going on at this time of the day. Only a bearded pale-faced trucker and his well-shaved colored colleague sat at one of the dusky-lit tables, tiredly eating two hot dogs with fries, which they were washing down with strong, black coffee.
Al noticed with a sigh that another two mugs could be disposed of. They had cracked in the dishwasher.
CYRWAY: I hate that!
"That happens when dad buys cheap stuff in a clearance sale," he mumbled annoyingly as, helter-skelter,
GECKO: You may be a lover, but you ain't no dancer!"
the door swung open and a, in his opinion, good-looking girl rushed into the snack bar.
She had brown, a bit dishevelled, curly hair, and wore a purple T-shirt, a black leather jacket and black buckskin shoes.
ALL THREE: Stormy?
Her jeans looked a bit damaged: at the left upper thigh, the clothing had a large hole. Al supposed the girl to be seventeen at most. He noticed with a grin that her female curves obviously were in appropriate sizes in the right places.
CYRWAY: *snorts* Pig.
BROOKLYN: Fanboys.
Completely surprised about what was going on, the two truckers forgot their food for the moment, and stared at the new arrival. They had a shocked expression in their faces, as if they had seen an invasion from Mars.
"What could I do for you, lady?" Al asked, trying again not to fall in love. Besides - that happened to him with every third female being.
GECKO: The last three who came in were Rosie O'Donell, Oprah Windfried, and Rosanne Barr.
"What's the date today?" she answered shortly.
The boy behind the counter, confused, gave her the information.
CYRWAY: Welcome to the future, McFly!
Magic thoughtfully rubbed her chin.
"That means that it was, in fact, only a few hours," she remarked. "I don't get it..."
BROOKLYN: Why do you talk to yourself like that...you know you sound crazy!
"What?" Al wanted to know, interested.
"That!" she answered waving at the hole in her jeans.
GECKO: So? I've got all kinds of those! *Sinks down and sticks his legs up in the air, showing off his tattered jeans.*
"I could imagine that the rest of it is also very neat..." Al answered with dreaming look in his eyes - love had caught him again.
CYRWAY: *groans* Great pickup line, dude.
"Errr... Excuse me?"
BROOKLYN: Ah, clueless as well as delusional.
Magic stared at the dark-haired boy as if he was the eighth wonder of the world.
GECKO: Chyna? Where? Where?
CYRWAY: Eighth was Andre the Giant. Chyna was the ninth.
"I could imagine that the rest of the leg is also very neat..." he answered willingly. "Do you have a date for tomorrow evening yet? We could visit a disco together..."
CYRWAY: Further proof this was written by someone outside the States.
GECKO: "Disco?" *gags*
The young woman sighed. Pointing at Al, she addressed the other two guests.
"Does he have this problem often?"
BROOKLYN: You missed him when Connie Chong came in.
"I suppose so," the dark-skinned man answered, grinning, while his buddy hung over the table, laughing. "But could ya blame him for it when he's confronted with a pretty teenager?"
"Teenager?" Now it was Magic's turn to grin. "That's indeed very flattering, but those days are already gone!"
CYRWAY: I know how that is...
GECKO: Serves you right for buying beer with your hair in ponytails.
Saying "Thanks for the information and have a nice evening!" she left the snack bar - leaving three very confused male beings behind.
Back on her way home in her car, Magic was very serious and thoughtful.
BROOKLYN: Like I've attempted to be.
The streetlights' cones of light rushed frequently over Pentacle's mysterious sparkling surface. In the distance, flickering light in the clouds indicated that a thunderstorm was coming closer. From time to time, she heard the distant roaring of thunder.
GECKO: "And the thunder rolled....and the thunder rolled..."
Megatron, where was Megatron?
CYRWAY: On your shelf, where you left him.
What happened to the Transformers?
BROOKLYN: *imitating Holden McNeil* They're fictional characters...fic-tion-al char-act-ers!
Who was behind their disappearance..?
ALL THREE: Lazarus!
She had to find out!
GECKO: You'll just have to wait until you get the entire miniseries.
And the thing with her leg...
BROOKLYN: Oh, yeah, that too....
Automatically she touched her upper thigh.
GECKO: *falsetto* "When I think about you, I touch myself!" *gets sniped from the rafters again.*
...why did she now react to wounds like a level-eight vampire?
CYRWAY: Does she mean eighth generation vampire?
BROOKLYN: What system is she going by?
CYRWAY: If it ain't Anita Blake or White Wolf, I don't know.
And the thing with the gate...
BROOKLYN: It could mean only one thing...
CYRWAY: Acid trip gone bad?
Could it have to do with this flow she felt inside? It had been so strangely familiar, like something which had always been there but, until now, had not been able to succeed against other forces. However, now it had grown very strong.
Three miles to go to her exit. At night the lights of the city reminded her of the upper regions of Cybertron...
BROOKLYN: How would she know?
The radio played 'Who wants to live forever?' from Queen.
GECKO: Starscream!
CYRWAY: Kurgan's Theme was better.
She longed for her mate, for his warmth, his tenderness.
CYRWAY: Oh, please.
BROOKLYN: My respect for Megatron has gone completely down the toilet.
A slight smile tinged the corners of her mouth as she remembered how fast Megatron had learned how to kiss.
CYRWAY: Oh, gods, more mushy crap. *Sinks into her seat.*
He had such a beautiful mouth...
BROOKLYN: *whimpers.* Amy, I'm going to run away, very fast...
"Oh, where are you, beloved?"
GECKO: *jumps up* Mackin' Nightbird behind your back! Oh, yeah, oh, yeah!
She sighed. Where to start her search? She had absolutely no idea.
CYRWAY: Try the Antarctic.
A lonesome semi made its way along the road right in front of pentacle. Magic overtook it. It was one of those independent truckers with their self-styled trucks: shining black paint, sparkling chrome, and 'Black Widow' written onto the driver's door.
GECKO: *Silverbolt voice.* Big Ben, this is Lonesome Birddog...
Suddenly the blinders fell from her eyes: the trucks! The blacks truck with white trailers!
CYRWAY: And realisation finally sinks in!
She remembered the sign that was at their sides: a black bishop on a four-square chess-board. The same image that had appeared on the Decepticon computer's screen! And then the silver-gray trailer, the logo was simply stuck on it. She was absolutely sure, if it was removed the Autobot insignia would appear...
BROOKLYN: *snorts* Of course! They kidnapped Roller!
"Oh, I'm a nut!"
ALL THREE: We know!
She hit her own forehead with her flat hand.
CYRWAY: Pulling a Neale Davidson, I see...
"My dear Megatron, if you have the need to call Starscream an idiot during the next time, don't forget that your mate is the bigger idiot of the 'family'!"
CYRWAY: Clutch!
A small Italian cafe in the city.
GECKO: Meanwhile, in another fanfiction....
The longish room was framed by a front of freshly cleaned windows on one side. Eight little, black-and-white-colored tables were in front of them. Each had two chairs. On the tables stood small vases with bunches of fresh, little flowers. The other side of the room was dominated by the bar, made of dark wood that was quite as long as the room. Part of the walls was covered by the same wood the bar was made of. The other part was covered with mirrors, which created the illusion that made the room seem wider than it was.
GECKO: Now we're in Kindred: The Embraced.
It was late evening.
Three of the tables were occupied: a young couple,
CYRWAY: Cashe and Sasha watching over their shoulders...
a married couple of about fifty,
BROOkLYN: Julian and Lily, perhaps?
and two commercial agents.
GECKO: More Venture.
The young people ate ice cream. One agent drank cappuccino.
CYRWAY: Meanwhile, poor Daedlus is stuck in the basement.
Behind the bar was an older, somewhat thick Italian man: the owner. Friendly, quick but not hasty, he cared for his guests' well-being. He seemed to know everyone here.
GECKO and CYRWAY: *theme from Cheers* "Would you like to go to the place where everyone knows your name...?"
BROOKLYN: So when can we be expected to see the cast of Friends show up?
GECKO: We went from Kindred to Cheers to Friends. Now there would be a frelled up crossover.
Two men sat at the bar, both about forty. The first, average tall, slim, reddish blond man was meteorologist. The brown-haired, slightly taller man with glasses was a geologist.
GECKO: the gentleman beside them was a gynecologist, and the gentleman on the other side was a proctologist.
The reddish-blond man lapped at his cappuccino while his brown-haired companion was thinking over his coffee.
BROOKLYN: "Lapped?"
"That was the craziest thing I've ever seen..."
CYRWAY: The space pirate Ryoko is the true Jurai heir! How does that happen?!
"The entire day was crazy. The boss wants explanations and I can't give them..."
GECKO: Just label it an X-file and give it to Mulder.
"There was absolutely nothing that indicated a thunderstorm..."
BROOKLYN: However, I do see a hole in the time/space continuum that leads to a Transformers fangirl fanfiction....
"At first we thought that the volcano might have had a new eruption. Although what happened was closer to a erupting..."
CYRWAY: Eh?
"The thing popped out of nowhere. Suddenly it was there..."
GECKO: Rodan has come to destroy the West Coast!
"The epicenter was too close to the surface..."
"As if someone used witchcraft to create it..."
CYRWAY: *facefaults* Please tell me she didn't become Wiccan after watching "The Craft..."
"Then we thought of an explosion..."
"The barometers went completely mad....!"
ALL THREE: They're not the only ones!
"The development of intensity during the progress had to be exactly the other way round then..."
"According to the satellite date, the clouds agglomerated above the mountain within only a few minutes..."
GECKO: Is this the new sequel to Tremors?
BROOKLYN: It would be funnier if that was the case.
"The volcano behaves strangely anyway. One week ago, the eruption should have been much more intense..."
"And the lightning! The tension within the atmosphere was not enough to cause such immense lightning..."
GECKO and CYRWAY: *air guitar "Ride the Lightning" by Metallica.*
"It's almost as if something was absorbing the eruption's energy..."
"Perhaps someone did a rain-dance..."
CYRWAY: *facefaults again*
They finished and paid.
BROOKLYN: And there was much rejoicing from the counterperson.
GECKO: As Frank bursts in, demanding to speak to Julian....
*INTERLUDE 4*
Artemis marches down the hallways of the Satellite of Love, her rifled slung over her shoulder, her optics determined, focused.
ARIN: *over the intercom* You know, Art, I was contemplating the possibility that perhaps we might be dealing with a predictament that's more magical in nature; I'm picking up a great deal of Etherium-like qualities in this space-time continuum. Perhaps our way home isn't science, per se, but more magical instead.
ARTEMIS: Are you capable of figuring that out?
ARIN: I think so. After all, my magical abilities are stemmed more from the base energy of the multiverse, being part fae.
ARTEMIS: What about Gecko? He's a magic-user.
ARIN: His abilities are more of the human mage variety, that can only tap the magical essence of an energy, but not the energy itself. It's known as Trolla's Theorum.
ARTEMIS: I don't care what it's called and how it works, Arin. You have my permission to research what you need to. *She turns on her heel and enters the bay area, where Sandrock is guarding the boarders, consisting of Bumblebee, Wheeljack, Ratchet, Optimus Prime, and Jazz, all in various states of disrepair.* Where's Bass and Gourry?
QUATRE: *within Sandrock* Ice cream break.
ARTEMIS: Figures. *Flips her thumb back out into the hallway.* Have Washu and GIR prep the med lab. *To Optimus Prime as Sandrock salutes and departs.* We have a limited crew right now, Prime, so repairs may be a little slow; perhaps if we repair your medic and mechanic first, we can then get to those less injured fixed quicker.
OPTIMUS: *nods.* It is greatly appreciated. *Supports Wheeljack as Jazz supports Ratchet.* Please, lead the way.
The five exuent, with muffled conversation, as the camera pans to Bumblebee, who looks around, then slips into another part of the corridors. Davis, Tasuki, and Exveemon simply watch him curiously.
DAVIS: Wonder where he's going?
TASUKI: He's sneaking around.
EXVEEMON: And he didn't notice us standing around?
TASUKI: He's sneaking around badly.
DAVIS: Then we should tail him.
TASUKI: Could this be a thinly veiled plot by these Autobots to overtake our ship?
DAVIS: The Autobots are supposed to be the good guys.
TASUKI: And the Decepticons, the bad guys, but you saw how they were acting.
DAVIS: They did send the fic.
TASUKI: *thinking* Other than that, they seemed to be good guys. *Narrows his eyes.* Still, I think we should keep an eye on this guy.
EXVEEMON: I'm cool with that.
DAVIS: But if we end up in a confrontation, fire's not going to do much damage to a Transformer--Exveemon, de-digivolve back to Veemon! I've got an idea!
EXVEEMON: I catch your idea, Davis! *In a swirl of digital light and colours, he turns into his Rookie form, Veemon.*
DAVIS *pulls out the Friendship Digiegg.* Digiarmour Digivolve!
Another show of light and colour around Veemon as the Digimon theme song plays.
VEEMON: Veemon Digiarmour Digivolve to-- *flash transforms into Raidramon.*
RAIDRAMON: *voice significantly deeper, more thunderous* RAIDRAMON, THE THUNDER OF FRIENDSHIP!
TASUKI: *blinks, then dryly* Do we have to go through that every time he does that?
DAVIS: Of course. It's cool to watch.
7.
Shocked, Magic jerked back into an upright position. She really had fallen asleep at the computer!
GECKO: Yuck, there's drool on the keyboard!
While she was tiredly wiping over her face she noticed with a sigh that the keyboard had left temporary marks on her left cheek. The screen switched on again. It was filled by a incomprehensible double-Dutch consisting of characters, figures, and symbols.
"This is what happens when you use the two-cheek-and-chin method instead of ten fingers..."
BROOKLYN: And yet the formula on the screen turned out to be the Secret of the Multiverse.
CYRWAY: Wow, someone who can use all ten fingers? I can only use six...
She looked at her watch: 2:50 pm. Two hours of sleep...
The modem! Well, that will be a telephone bill... She interrupted the access.
CYRWAY: The benefits of unlimited access and toll free dial-up.
GECKO: The benefits of DSL.
Slowly she got up from her chair. She felt tired and worn out. Her head ached a bit. Coffee... Coffee now! At once!
CYRWAY: Caffeine...addiction....
Slowly she dragged herself to the stairs, hoping to get her mind clear again.
Coffee - for three days now it had nearly been her sole nutrition.
GECKO: You know, you could get caffeine from soft drinks too....
For three days without break she had tried to find out whose sign the black bishop was. A company, an association - she even had checked chess clubs and toy manufacturers! During the day she had been in offices and libraries and had made telephone calls, during the night she browsed through the computer network.
CYRWAY: On a 3600 baud modem.
No success, except for namely knowledge of nearly every company inside the United States that was called Bishop, Bishof, Bishoph or something similar. There were a lot of them,
GECKO: All of them having to do with WWE Raw.
but none had a black bishop in front of a four-square chess-board as a logo.
CYRWAY: Oh, give it time and Eric Bishoph will claim it.
Magic poured the coffee which remained in the can into her mug and
prepared the coffee machine anew. After such consumption, was it still able to have any effect...?
Megatron still was unconscious, but she still had the feeling that his soul was getting closer.
Her mind was so nebulous...!
GECKO: Heil Zarak! Heil Zarak!
She dragged herself to the kitchen table. If she just had more clues...
GECKO: Can anyone say "Dreamwave comic?"
The coffee was cold and tasted bitter.
CYRWAY: At this point, it's time to break out the soda.
What kind of indications had she had anyway?
A logo: probably a hint to the name. A few trucks: the 'company' was not too small. Megatron's soul came closer: the 'company' had at last a subsidiary or something like that in the States.What else?
They knew about the Transformers: they had the fitting high-tech stuff to knock those out. If the government was behind this...? That would be real garbage!
BROOKLYN: The men in black strike again.
Besides high-tech stuff... Oh, damned! She had forgotten that completely! She still had the thing that had stuck to Teletraan 1!
GECKO: The little lightbulb that blinks!
Magic jerked up and ran to the wardrobe. Inside her leather jacket's pocket, she found what she was looking for. She took a closer look at the longish capsule. The object was made of red plastic and looked like a... 'thing'!
GECKO: Like a dildo? Huh?
Magic was not able to find anything special about it, except that there were two metallic 'somethings' in the gray gum. Probably contacts. She took the thing with her into the computer room where, buried under sundry computer prints, was a Volt/Amp meter.
CYRWAY: Every girl needs one of those.
There was slight electrical tension between the contacts. If it still worked...
She stuck it at her computer...
BROOKLYN: And we have no idea what had happened.
Half an hour later,
CYRWAY: You know, the early Beetle didn't have a safety to prevent from shifting from a high gear to reverse. Of course, it didn't make much sense to even attempt that since the reverse is off to the left rather than the right like in American cars.
BROOKLYN: Why do we let her ramble?
GECKO: She's the one at the keyboard.
BROOKLYN: Huh?
a metallic blue VW Beetle arrived at a small farm east of the city. Mrs. Vineweaver, the farmer's wife, came out of the house right away to welcome the visitor.
"Mag? You were really the last person we expected to see today!" the black haired, small lady mentioned while she took off her reading glasses. "My god, what happened to you? You are chalk-white! Is everything all right with you?"
GECKO: Ladies and gentlemen, the origin of technorganic life.
"Yah, yah, Mrs. Vineweaver," Magic answered, smiling friendly. "The last few days have been a bit stressful, that's all. Is Gunnar at home...? I need his help."
The addressee nodded.
"In his kingdom above the garage," she replied.
GECKO: Where no mother dares to tread.
"I fear his fingers already mangled with the keyboard... But you, child, you really look as if you are sick!"
BROOKLYN: You would too if you had an obsession for an evil warlord.
"Too much coffee and not enough sleep. After that you always look like been chewed up...," Magic answered ironically.
CYRWAY: Regurgitated and spat up.
It was evident that she had become owner of a greenish-white face, and that the deep dark marks beneath her eyes were not caused by dispersed mascara. She followed the farmer's wife into the house to reach Gunnar's room by well-known passages.
Or should she say for better: an outside agency of Starfleet Command? As soon as she reached the attic over the narrow stairway it was obvious: here lived a Trekkie!
BROOKLYN: And here we can see young John "Ringo" Langley working hard on the Lone Gunmen tabloid...
Pictures of the old and the Next Generation hung at the light wooden walls.
CYRWAY: *chanting* Deep Space 9! Deep Space 9!
GECKO: *chanting* Voyager! Voyager!
BROOKLYN: *chanting* Enterprise! Enterprise!
GECKO: *chanting* Seven of Nine! Seven of Nine!
Furthermore there was a poster of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D und blueprints of different other types of spaceships, all carefully laminated. Accurately-scaled models of Starfleet, Klingon and Romulan ships hung from the low ceiling.
GECKO: Posters of Jeri Ryan in nothing but scantily clad Borg implants decorated the ceiling.
A pine-wood shelf divided the room into a kind of living area that contained a sleep couch, a table, the hifi-system
CYRWAY: Good god, I haven't heard someone refer to that since I was seven!
and a TV-set and a working area with a desk and computer. The shelf had on it the most complete collection of Star Trek literature that Magic had ever seen, arranged in - what else could it be - painstaking order.
GECKO: Order by series...order by author...order by title...ARGH!!!
In a niche in front of the window was a little workbench on which a Bird-of-Prey model was waiting to be completed. The room was absolutely tidied up and so clean that not even Perceptor would had found a dust particle. However it appeared not be sterile. The wooden walls and floor, and a shaggy rug took care of that. The reason why everything here was so tidied up and clean was that Gunnar was always afraid that his collected treasures could be affected by use or dirt.
BROOKLYN: As opposed to Cyrway.
Speaking of Gunnar - the young man was leaning over his keyboard and hammering like crazy some kind of data into his PC.
CYRWAY: Ah, MUSHing, I see.
This action was only interrupted when he had to use the right forefinger to push his glasses back in place on his nose or when he quickly browsed over the screen. After he had done the first or when he was content with the second the keyboard's clatter continued unswervingly.
"Sacha!" Magic said as she entered the room, the right hand forming the Vulcan greeting.
CYRWAY: Nuqneq'!
GECKO: Ladies and gentlemen, the only transfan fluent in Latin and Klingon.
Gunnar, all of a sudden dragged out of his virtual existence and thrown back into the real world, was startled. He needed approximately 2.593 seconds until the language centre inside his brain switched from PASCAL to American English.
BROOKLYN: The advantages of universal translators.
Then, after he had noticed that he had a visitor, he rushed in Magic's direction, beaming with joy. 80.52 centimeters in front of her he stopped to greet her in the Vulcan way, too.
CYRWAY: *McCoy drawl.* Cold-hearted damned Vulcans...
That, during this action, he had nearly stumbled over his chair and therefore had nearly fallen right onto his nose totally escaped his notice. His natural given biochemical memory banks did not use to register such normalities anymore.
Why anyway? A experienced stumbler does not fall.
"Hey, Gunnar!" Magic said. "Are you again about to prove that there's no real life outside the computer?"
GECKO: I think Decepticon Dominion proved that, thank you.
CYRWAY: *facefaults*
"Excuse me?" the tall, gangling boy asked, confused.
Then the penny dropped.
BROOKLYN: What happened to the shoe? *A shoe falls on him from the rafters.*
"Yes... err... I mean 'no'..." he laughed uncertainly, drying at the side of his pants his hands that had suddenly started to sweat. "I was trying to configure a program for my math class...
GECKO: You were looking up Star Trek smut and you know it!
CYRWAY: That's where the "slash" term came from! "Kirk-slash-Spock!"
BROOKLYN visibly flinches.
Nice that you're visiting me!"
Magic looked at the young man in front of her: he still had this Excuse-me-that-I-was-born-it-won't-happen-again carriage: a bit bowed, shoulders hanging. It was a pity that this boy had nearly no self-confidence. A fact that had made him an outsider in the high-school. An ideal victim to the stupid sayings and goof jokes by his moderately intelligent fellow students.
CYRWAY: I know how that is...But after graduation, you will have the last laugh. *Cackles maniacally*
The weakest of the pack, the stooge who was picked on by everyone. Gunner had swallowed everything. Moreover - he had believed himself responsible for the others' stupid behavior, although he was one of the most intelligent and clever human beings Magic knew, and one of the most loveable. And her 'little brother', which is what he had always been for her, did not look bad either. He was tall and slender, if he only would just put a bit more pride into his manner!
CYRWAY: I know people like that.
However - the actual problem was of a different kind...
BROOKLYN: He was a geek with no concept of reality.
"Great master, I could use your help," Magic started. "Namely, I do have a mega sized problem which only an electronic genius like you might be able to solve."
GECKO: If you stroke it, it will grow....
"If I can help you - my pleasure," Gunnar replied in a friendly manner.
GECKO: I bet it will...
Magic reached into her jacket's pocket and dragged the 'thing' out of it.
"I hope, you can tell me what the devil that is?"
Gunner took off his glasses, cleaned them at the seam of his T-shirt, and put them on again. Then he took the object out of Magic's hand to have a closer look.
GECKO: That, Magic, is a dildo...
"Oh! I read an article about something quite similar in an electronic magazine not long ago," he answered. "Developed for police and army. They use a kinda air-gun to shoot capsules that contain bugs, homing devices and stuff like that."
ALL THREE: Of course....
"In our case 'stuff like that'!" Magic grumbled. "Do you know who manufactures this James Bond equipment?"
ALL THREE: MI-6!
GECKO: Good ol' Q....
Gunnar regretfully shook his head.
CYRWAY: And you call yourself a geek.
"Can you find out what it is?" Magic asked further, rubbing her eyes which burned from being overtired.
"I can disassemble it. Maybe I can find out this way what it does," the boy replied.
BROOKLYN: Usually when Cyrway says that, we fear.
"Oh - what it does, I know already," she explained laconically.
Gunnar looked at her, taken aback, as she took the object out of his hand again. Waving at the computer screen, she asked: "Have you saved your stuff?"
"Not yet..."
CYRWAY: The idiot! *Quickly saves the MiST.*
"Then save it!"
CYRWAY: Done.
He followed the order.
As soon as the saving routine was over and the control lamps switched off,
GECKO: Wha...?
Magic stuck the 'thing' at the computer. Right away the image on the screen started to run through like mad. You could hardly somehow see that the computer crazily spitted out senseless rows of figures.
CYRWAY: It's erasing the harddrive, you fool!
Gunnar first turned as pale as a sheet, swallowed dryly, then his skin color turned into ash-gray. He moved his mouth but without being able to say anything. However, in his eyes was clearly to see a horrified 'Oh, god... My computer!!!".
BROOKLYN: Magic succeeded in killing Gunnar's best friend....
Exactly in this moment, Magic removed the object from the housing. The computer calmed down at once, made a short error message, and showed -
ALL THREE: The blue screen of death!
as if nothing had happened - the cursor.
CYRWAY: Thank gods for DOS!
Gunnar still was very pale, but able to speak again.
GECKO: I hate you, Mag....
"What was that?" he asked while timidly checking the hard drive for damaged data.
BROOKLYN: You deleted all his porn.
To his relief he could find none.
GECKO: Including the porn!
"It did exactly the same did thing to mine. Besides the fact that I was in Windows and found myself on DOS level afterwards," Magic explained.
CYRWAY: So?
GECKO: Some people have never seen DOS in their lives, Ace...
Again, she looked at the 'thing' critically and continued: "Afterwards I executed a few further tests..."
BROOKLYN promptly covers GECKO's mouth.
"What kinda tests?" the other wanted to know, while, as a precaution, shutting down his computer.
GECKO: *muffled against Brooklyn's hand*
BROOKLYN: Gross! *Pulls his hand back* Ace, Gecko licked my hand!
"I stuck the 'thing' at different electronic devices," she answered. "The result was that with increasing technical complexity the effect increases, too." She put the object onto the desk. "In other words, my hi-fi system didn't function anymore to play a program. My old, primitive pocket calculator needed twice as much time for the calculations as I did, but it did it without mistakes. And an old transistor radio is absolutely not impressed by it."
CYRWAY: And you should have seen it when it meant up with the refrigerator!
"Funny," Gunnar remarked.
He started to remove the gum, trying to find a way to examine the object.
"No, that is absolutely not funny." Magic painfully shook her head. "It's a tragedy!
GECKO: Not to us...
CYRWAY: We're the three who heckled Romeo and Juliet.
And I have to know who, damned again, uses that stuff!"
CYRWAY: This looks like a job for the Lone Gunmen! *Her and Gecko start air guitaring the Lone Gunmen theme.*
"Why's that so important? You sound as if it was a matter of life and death..."
BROOKLYN: Go ahead. Tell him about the Transformers. Prove you're crazy.
"Gunnar." She looked him deeply into his eyes. "This could be exactly what it is!"
Resigned she hit the wall with her fist.
CYRWAY: Ow! Ow! Crap! That's masonite!
"I have to find someone. And all I have is this 'thing' and a company logo of which I don't know to what was company it belongs. This miserable, confounded bishop!"
GECKO: Damn that Bishop! And Forge! And Shard!
She felt the urge to cry.
BROOKLYN: I'm sure there will be other evil megalomaniac giant robots after Megatron...
CYRWAY: Like Cy-Kill!
"'Bishop?'" Gunnar repeated inquiringly.
"Yeah, a black bishop in front of a four-square chess-board which stands on one corner..." she answered.
He jerked from his chair, rushed to the shelf, and started to skim through an old electronic magazine.
CYRWAY: Oh, where's that Marrowind review?
BROOKLYN: Another game where it's glitchy as all hell but people still love it.
Magic followed his actions completely confused.
"Eureka!" Gunnar suddenly cheered, holding up an article right in front of her nose. "There it is!"
GECKO: You idiot! That's the WWE Raw magazine!
Really!
ALL THREE: No, really!
There it was, the black bishop, as a hologram that was photographed at a high tech fair.
GECKO: Can you photograph holograms?
BROOKLYN: *biffs GECKO.* Don't get her started!
CYRWAY appears deep in thought.
"That... That's it!" Magic gasped. "But how...? What...? Who...? I hope you know what I mean..." She was fidgety from excitement.
BROOKLYN: Leave it to a computer magazine to reveal the existence of a super-secret society.
GECKO: You'd think they'd at least have a website.
"Well, they write: one of the main attractions of this year's fair was the high efficiency hologram projector presented by Dr. Benedict Bishoph, owner of the B. B.
ALL THREE: Roger!
Enterprises electronics company. During an interview, Dr. Bishoph remarked that the prototype was not yet fully developed. They were working on a compact model that..."
BROOKLYN: Human Perceptor.
Magic interrupted: "Don't forget your speech... Benedict Bishoph was the guy's name?
GECKO: But it turned out he went by the name "Eric" for publicity purposes.
"Yah, but he's written with 'ph'. And his company's called B. B. Enterprises, has - as far as I remember - ." Gunnar skimmed through the magazine's pages again. "... its head establishment here in Oregon."
CYRWAY: Convenient plot device! That poor Beetle wouldn't make it cross country!
"Gunnar, you're great!" Magic cheered. "You gonna get a place of honor in my personal gallery of heroes!"
BROOKLYN: That's not saying much....Megatron's on that list.
With this words she grasped the 'thing'
CYRWAY: Why don't you just call it a scrambler and leave it at that?
to put it back into her pocket. She now had the information she needed. Then she headed for the stairs. But before she disappeared out of the boy's sight she turned around again, saying: "I'm sorry that I confused your computer a bit. But the cause is really serious. If you'll have trouble again, lil' brother, you know how to reach me!"
GECKO: Draw a pentagram on the floor and conjure her.
*INTERLUDE 5*
The Bridge. Arin is standing, putting the Satellite of Love on Autopilot.
ARIN: Okay, Mal, you know the basic functions of flying this ship, right?
MALIBU: *off screen.* Of course I do! Remember, I'm the Grey Lord of the Multiverse!
ARIN: My, I wonder where you got that ego...? *Gourry and Bass come in, both finishing off ice cream cones. Treble scoots in, pushing around a dish of ice cream, trying to get to the last drops of the melted treat.* Good, Bass, stay here and keep Mal company. Gourry, I'm going to need you to accompany me.
GOURRY: *clueless* Okay. *Finishes his ice cream cone and follows Arin off the bridge.*
BASS: *to the camera.* Sooo....
MALIBU: I've got Rockman and Forte on that computer over there.
BASS *looks behind him, looks down at the computer, then whines.* But I already know how that turns out!
MALIBU: There's also some Roll pin ups on there as well.
BASS: Now we're talking!
Back to Arin and Gourry, as they walk through the corridor to a large room used for storing foodstuff.
GOURRY: So what are we doing?
ARIN: I have to use the Sword of Light to access the Etherium, so that I can get some answers on how to get us home. I need room to summon The First. Please activate the Sword of Light, Gourry-dear.
GOURRY: *reluctantly, he undoes the pin that attaches the hilt to his blade, then holds the empty hilt high above his head.* Light come forth! *His voice echoes dramatically as the Sword of Light activates in a blinding light. Once the initial flash disperses, he then hands her the magic sword.*
ARIN: No, you just hold it in a defensive position. I don't know if the First is a big nasty or not. *Pulls out the Nirvana staff from Final Fantasy X from Trailor/Mallet/Spandex space. Begins a summoner's dance, sweeping the staff around in a graceful manner. A summon pattern appears on the ground in front of her. A strange spacial void suddenly opens up above their head, spitting out a bright glowing package, before condensing and then disappearing altogether.*
GOURRY: *awed* What is it?
ARIN: That is the First demon, the one who started it all. *Opens her eyes, then abruptly looks rather confused.*
*Cut to ORKO, who is dusting himself off.*
ORKO: Phew! Those spacial displacement spells are the worst! *Looks around, then locks his eyes on Arin.* Hello! Do you have anything to eat around here?
ARIN: That's the First?
GOURRY: *to Orko* Sure do!
ARIN: *to herself.* Of course...the First of the Demons...at age 5, Ace would have been watching He-Man and the Masters of the Universe...that's what it meant by the the First...*slaps her palm to her forehead.* Here I thought the First was a being like Primus or something as god-like...looks like it's back to the drawing board--wait a minute. Gourry, you're part fae!
GOURRY: *as he and Orko are discussing food, the warrior snaps his head up.* Huh?
ARIN: You're grandmother was elf, wasn't she?
GOURRY: *rubs the back of his head, in a thoughtful-dumb manner.* I guess.
ARIN: I've been thinking at a more cosmic level! Of course! Perhaps the secret for us to returning home is to in fact go at it from a more microcosmic point of view! In other words, at an individual level! Orko, what do you know about time-space rifts?
ORKO: *blinks audibly.* I don't even know you, and you're already demanding to know about temporal physics. *His stomach rumbles loudly.* And right now, I can't think on an empty stomach. Friend Gourry, lead me to the kitchen!
ARIN: *exhales in exasperation.* Why couldn't Ace have demons that could take things seriously?
GIR and MECHA-WASHU race past her, squealing happily.
8.
Three beings that slightly resembled humans were in the Adventurewood.
THE THREE look at one another.
The terribly skinny something that besieged the computer was 1.86 meters tall but had only a weight of 130 pounds though it ate constantly.
CYRWAY: This is Langley.
It was Joker. He tried vainly but obstinately for hundreds of times to lead a troop of four men through a space ship full of Soulsuckers and similarly nice aliens.
GECKO: Ah, playing the TF:Q expansion, I see...
Number two was Alex. He was occupied modifying his mechs for the next duel with Andy. That meant in fact that he scribbled some names and figures onto a character sheet. Something only inveterate Battletech players could understand.
CYRWAY: This is Byers.
The third was Flowers the shop owner himself. A bit bearded, the blonde long hair in a plait, he sat over his tax return.
CYRWAY: This is Frohike.
Meanwhile the scrap of paper had become that bothersome that he caught himself several times thinking about how to get enough TNT to blow up the tax officers office.
BROOKLYN: Nowadays, this could constitute for an arrest for terrorism.
GECKO and CYRWAY groan.
CYRWAY: Good thing this isn't Minority Report.
Furthermore, a black something was in a corner of the shop. By first sight, it could have been a round fur cushion of about fifty centimeters in diameter, however it had the ability to expand and contract in constant frequency.
"THE ENEMY WILL COME FROM THESE AREAS," the computer mentioned. "BEWARE OF AMBUSHES!"
CYRWAY: Ah, Starcraft!
At that moment the front door swung open. In the next moment, a "What's up, you tired warriors?" on her lips, she stood in the shop.
GECKO: THE ENEMY!!!
"FIGHT WITH HONOR!" the computer replied.
BROOKLYN: Obviously not a Decepticon game.
'She' was a seventeen year old girl, with short, black-brown hair that turned to light brown, nearly blonde at the temples. With her nose-, chin-, and lip form - she was not able to deny her family relationship to Magic. But there was one thing completely different in the way they looked: the color of their eyes. While Magic's eyes were greyish blue like the wild sea, the girl's were yellow-brown nearly amber colored.
GECKO: RYOKO!!!
"Hi, Ivy," Flowers said, still not giving up the fight with the tax return.
"Ooow, wat's up?" Alex greeted with lazy gesture.
ALL THREE: Whazzzzzzup?
"Wh't..?" Joker said, suddenly dragged out of the game. After realizing the state of affairs, he added: "Oh, hello, Ivy!"
"EAT THIS!" the computer remarked.
GECKO: Not if it's broccoli.
Now the unbelievable took place! The fur cushion started to alter: First it unfurled two sail-like sensors, to retract them again right afterwards. Instead, a head, eyes still aimlessly squinting around, flapped out of the object at a fitting neck. An inquiring "Wouff?" rolled out of the chest part's depth, up the throat, and tortured itself through very horrible looking, large, hanging lips. The giant, black nose at the front of the head inhaled deeply the new scent, nearly causing a vacuum inside of the store. After endless seconds in which its brain compared the recently picked up smell with those that had already been stored, to really find a conformity in present data, it flapped out, while it was unrolling itself, four thin, long legs that ended in giant paws, and a wildly wagging whip tale. In a combination of canter, hopping and sidestep, a way of movement that could only be called 'braddapratzing',
CYRWAY: Sounds like something Brian's mom would say.
GECKO: "Brian, stop braddapratzing!" Yep, I can see why.
the creature rushed against Ivy. But shortly in front of the girl it came to a full stop which not only caused it to push the rug by its monster feet forward but also that the about two sizes too large skin to temporarily slide over its ears.
GECKO: The attack of Scooby Doo.
"Woaww!" it joyfully made, laying down its fore-part while the hind part remained standing , still wildly wagging: a position that made the being look like a chute.
"Hi, Great Dane!" Ivy greeted the black something.
CYRWAY: Oh dear...it's the Scooby Gang.
"Wooff," the dog answered and catapulted itself, ignoring every gravitational law, out of the chute-like position directly into a vertical jump. Right afterwards, it started to bounce around the girl in wild dance, jumped at her, and enthusiastically drooled all over her.
BROOKLYN: Gross.
"Take cover!" Alex dryly remarked as one of the long, shoe-lace like strings of slime flew out of the dog lips and aimed directly for the counter. With a smack, the thing exactly hit Flower's tax return.
BROOKLYN: No Scooby snack for you!
"Su-per-thing," he grumbled. Used to such incidents, he sought for a Kleenex.
"It's just for the tax officer's office," Alex grinned.
GECKO: They're used to the slime!
Smack - the next slime string hit his character sheet.
ALL THREE: Ewwww!
"Great Dane!" Alex screamed, shocked.
"DIE SLIMEBALL!" the computer mentioned laconically.
BROOKLYN: Iaconically?
CYRWAY: Laconically. And it's a word.
"Great Dane, lay down!" Flowers ordered sharply.
The Great Dane sadly dropped her large, flappy ears, bowed down her neck and trotted back into the corner. A last time she gave her master a loyal squinting glance.
"Do I really have to do?" seemed to be written into the deer-brown eyes.
"Great Dane! Lay down!" Flowers repeated, this time a bit harsher.
CYRWAY: Sit, boy!
GECKO: After the fourth episode, Inu-Yasha really began hating that stupid collar.
CYRWAY: Sit, boy!
A "Pffft!" coming out of its nose, the animal dropped itself onto the floor. Then it curled up, retracting legs and tail, flapping the head back to the body, and looked like a round, black fur cushion again.
"BURN!" came from the computer, absolutely without sense.
ALL THREE: FOR THE ROYALTY!
"Oh, Theo, if you do have to play shut off the sound!" The continuing comments of the computer really gave Flowers the jitters.
GECKO: You need the music to play!
Joker shrugged and did what he had been told to do. Wiping a strand that escaped from the hair-grip out of his face, Flowers addressed Ivy: "Can I somehow help you?"
CYRWAY: *Falsetto* Yes, I'm stuck in a Transformers fanfiction....
"Yup," the girl answered, wiping the drool that remained on the back of her hand on her jeans. "I'm looking for a birthday present for my big sister and still dunno what..."
GECKO: Ask Murry the Evil Skull. He's got great ideas.
BROOKLYN: You don't mean--
GECKO: Yep. The Ultra Magnus Dildo. By the way, Cyrway killed Robert Stack.
CYRWAY: I did not!
"How about a Transformers toy?" Alex proposed.
GECKO: Why not? Ace has enough G1 Starscreams to play Tetris.
"How about pouring water into the Mississippi?," Ivy commented. "Or carrying coals to Newcastle?
ALL THREE: Huh?
The probability to give her one she already has is at - let my think - 99.9 per cent...?"
"Was just a proposal..." the blonde boy grumbled.
BROOKLYN: I bet she doesn't have Black Battle Convoy.
CYRWAY: Or Armada Starscream...
GECKO: *laughs like Krusty the Clown just before Cyrway hits him.*
"Will be noted with appreciation," Magic's sister answered. "I imagined something with tin figures, fantasy stuff would be best. Flowers, do you have some finished dioramas here?"
CYRWAY: Dioramas for one's birthday are the greatest! *Bounces* Brian did one of PZT for me!
GECKO: You killed Robert Stack.
CYRWAY: Did not! *Punches Gecko.*
The other nodded and waved at the showcase where already painted figures had a rendezvous under the light of the low-tension lamps. Here a white and a red dragon fought inside the remains of an old tower, there an angel fought a duel with a demon on the field of skulls, and over there four adventurers forced their way through a magic forest, and a mage tried to teach manners to an inquisitive baby dragon...
CYRWAY: *as Hagrid from Harry Potter.* Now, Norbert, be nice t' mommy...
Ivy glanced, with the experienced eye of an expert, at one scenario after the other. At last, a white eagle with spread wings that sat on a piece of rock caught her interest. On a small, accurately lettered sign beside the diorama was written: "Wareagle with mounted rider on the top of a mountain."
CYRWAY: Eagles fit Megatron.
BROOKLYN stares at her.
CYRWAY: They're brutish scavenging bullies, in spite of popular belief...says a lot about us Americans, eh?
Really, on the back of the majestic bird sat a warrior in silver-shining armor. That meant that the eagle would have been gigantic if it had been real.
BROOKLYN: Or the rider was from Lilliput.
Ivy liked the tidily painted work at once. Maybe because the eyes of the bird pf prey had something familiar in it.
"That's exactly what I want!" she said, convinced. "This one and nothing else!"
GECKO: All right, all right, don't need to get your panties in a bunch....
Then she addressed Flowers: "Save the eagle! I'm gonna get the diorama tomorrow afternoon. Then I'll have the bucks with me!"
"All right," the shop owner replied. "I think I've got a box in the storage room wherein we could put it . I'm gonna look for it."
CYRWAY: And while you're at it, check in on my order for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Adventures.
"Great!" Ivy cheered, rubbing her hands. "That's clarified. Now, I'm gonna visit my sister. Have to see what she's doing. Haven't heard anything from her for a while."
"She might have a boy-friend," Flowers commented dryly.
ALL THREE snort.
"I don't think so..." the girl contradicted hesitantly, grimacing somehow strangely. It was clear she knew something.
"Hey, love doesn't catch Mag so easily," Alex remarked.
CYRWAY: Could have fooled me.
"Not easily, but it caught her..." Ivy murmured, sighing. After her comment, she could had kicked her bottom for her fast mouth.
GECKO: So when do we get to the scene with WarWorld Starscream and Arty?
BROOKLYN: Please shut up about that.
CYRWAY: It's in the works, trust me.
BROOKLYN: Don't encourage him!
For the second time in a row, Joker looked up confused.
"Wh't? Since when? Mag...?" he mumbled.
The others also made a strange face.
"Ivy, you're contradicting yourself at the moment," came a hint by Flowers. "If she fell in love she had a boy-friend. And..." Looking shocked, he added, "She dares not to have introduced the lucky guy to us 'til now! This is not the way it works!"
GECKO: He'll decimate all of you!
"Noooope...! The entire thing's not that easy," Ivy said hesitantly. How could she get out of this situation again? "Well she somehow has the crush on a guy, but... there's a little problem..."
"Simply poison his wife then," the shop owner proposed, shrugging.
CYRWAY: Now you're talking!
BROOKLYN: Get rid of Nightbird once and for all!
"For how long have things been like this?"
GECKO: Ever since she hit her head on the display stand at Toys 'R Us.
Ivy sighed. Why didn't he stop asking her? Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut today?
"For about three or four years," she answered reluctantly, dropping herself onto a chair. "Since then she's been mercilessly loyal to him... And he is not bound to another..."
GECKO: Save for a human-built blow up ninja robot.
She draw her knees to her chin.
Magic's sister noisily inhaled and exhaling she answered: "He simply doesn't exist..."
CYRWAY: I'm glad someone in this fic realizes this.
"Huh? Why...?" came from Alex.
BROOKLYN: Because to her, he is the perfect man.
GECKO: Poor, delusional girl....
Joker knit his brows instead of asking a question.
CYRWAY: Smart boy.
Ivy did not answer.
Flowers glanced at her, then turned back to his cursed and drooled-upon tax return. After half a minute of general silence he asked: "For how long has your sister been Transformers fan?"
"Three or four years..."
CYRWAY: Not as long as me!
"Okay."
He nodded and continued to fill in the form.
"What was that, Flowers?" Joker asked who as it is known had been slow-witted for the whole day.
BROOKLYN: That was Dane farting.
"Mag has..." Alex gasped. A complete chandelier had lit up in his mind. "... the crush on a Transformer?!? Compleeeeetley crrazy...! This gal's compleeeeetely crrrrazy...!"
GECKO and BROOKLYN look at CYRWAY.
CYRWAY: Hey, I have crushes on cars! If they transform, then bonus!
Then he added: "If she wasn't she wouldn't be a regular customer here."
"On which one?" Joker wanted to know. Skinny and pale as he was, wearing black clothes, he really seemed to be Death's salesman.
BROOKLYN: Meet Joe Black.
Ivy did not answer his question. She sat on the chair, legs close to her body, chin laying on her knees, staring into space. Her uneasy conscience made her feel sick.
"All females have a crush on the great hero," Flowers explained instead, very theatrically. "And who is the shining hero? Optimus Prime...!"
CYRWAY: Not me...I take the hotrodding teenagers! Sideburn and Hot Rod!
GECKO: And the flyboys?
CYRWAY: Only Octane.
BROOKLYN: What about Starscream?
CYRWAY: Why the slot would I have a crush on that prick?
"You think so...?"Alex asked carefully.
Flowers sighed.
"Oh, Alex...," he deeply slowly started as if talking to a small child. "Do you really think, Mag's interested in Prime...? Please! You know, there are people who are heroic.
CYRWAY: Hey! Pop Op kicked ass! He may be a little hypocritical, but he's still cool!
There are some who are badly heroic.
BROOKLYN: Optimus Primal!
And there are those who are so awfully heroic that you get sick from it!
GECKO: *Fanfares* It is I, Silverbolt!
Besides..." He paused effectively, underlining it with fittingly overdone gesture. "... she's a Con bride!"
BROOKLYN: We're not going to do Lady Ramjet's fics any time soon...are we?
"Huh? Why?" Alex said, wiping Great Dane traces with the his jacket's sleeve from his army boots.
CYRWAY Not all gamers are this air-headed.
"Because she once did say so, you do understand?"
"True!" Joker confirmed, happily surprised that he could remember it. "Three weeks ago, when we were playing Battletech with Tom. And I thought she meant her malicious ways to attack..."
CYRWAY: That could have been very well RiD Ultra Magnus, Def Con, or Depth Charge.
Alex grinned.
"Weeell, Pawn's Atlas was disassembled thoroughly..."
GECKO: These guys never seen Cyrway play, have they?
BROOKLYN: May Mercedes's Northern Paladin proxy rest in peace.
CYRWAY: Pieces.
Ivy listened to the discussion. She felt sicker by the minute. Why hadn't she kept her big mouth shut?
BROOKLYN: Because it would hinder the plot?
She had promised her sister, never to tell anyone about her feelings for the Decepticon leader. But during the last few days, the fact was constantly present