GrindWorld
A forum dedicated to the Jet Set Radio/Jet Grind Radio, Jet Set Radio Future, and The World Ends With You.
A celebration of video games, art, music, and self-expression, with a whole lotta Tokyo thrown in.
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GnommishReader
Moderator
Posts : 68
Join date : 2012-05-30
Age : 29
Location : The Land of Weather and Tea
 |  Subject: The Fanfiction Topic  Tue Jun 12, 2012 6:55 pm | |
| Oh Joshua, have mercy on me for the can of worms I am about to unleash...
This is the thread for your fanfiction posting! This can be on any fandom under the sun, but it would be very, very nice if you told us what one so we don't get ourselves in a muddle!
Here are the very important rules as a reminder:
1.) It must be PG-13. (12 by BBFC/PEGI terms.)
2.) Unsure? Mild (Note the emphasis.) swearing and action is fine. Anything above that is not. If it's straddling the line, don't be afraid to ask via PM.
3.) No spam.
4.) Crack fic is fine.
5.) No external linking. Post it under a spoiler header. I don't care if you want more views on your FF.net version, plain text under spoiler headers.
6.) Other than these, play nice, no flaming and we'll get on fine. :3
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|  | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:09 pm | |
| Yes, I have a fanfiction that fits this criteria. Freejazz Theta Summary: This world has something new, something old, and something blue. In a world where a nothing can do something anything could do if given everything at its disposal, it's best to keep your friends close. Durarara! x The World Ends With You x Jet Set Radio Future x Fooly Cooly x Mirror's Edge all mashed into one bizarre story style I christen "animemo." Rating: T/PG-13 Strong censored language (censorship reduces it to mild), Mild Violence Fandom: Stated in summary, but will be repeated - The World Ends With You
Durarara!
Jet Set Radio/Jet Set Radio Future
Fooly Cooly
Mirror's Edge
Chapter 1 Invitation to the Revolution - Spoiler:
I'd love to think that this is my town, but I'd be wrong. This is the street's town, and no one should ever own it. No one.
Hi. My name is
"Yuzukida! Yuzukida!" she calls out. That's... well... Anyway, let me just *grunt* try to *grunt* keep her away... *Puts foot to girl's face* Stay back, demon! Heel! "Yuzukida!" Agh, she got me!
Well so much for my name.
We sat near the river bank, on the cold concrete, looking out at the industrial lights reflect on the rippling water. The water itself looked bloody. So did the sky. So did the smutty smoke burping out of the sterile, white factory towers across from us. I looked at her face, and saw the same crimson sunlight that I saw on myself in my reflection. She was sitting India style. She was sooo depressingly ugly.
"I heard that they're opening Valhalla over there." She pointed to a hill behind the industrial park. In this light, from this distance, the almost invisible hill faded into the red sky. But it was there.
I... can't... give... a...*damn*...
She leaned and fell onto my side, sighing the whole way.
"Leave me alone." My head tilted downward and my eyes looked to the right. How she gets called cute by half the boys and some of the girls at the school...
"Maybe we should..." I blocked her out right there and stood up. She plopped to the side, still trying to pass off some sort of kawaii crap on me.
Next, I was walking down the boulevard, hoping that maybe she'd remember she had something to do with her friends.
"Oh come on, silly! You know I don't have any other friends!" Ugh. You see what I have to deal with every evening?
"Yeah, I can tell why." I put my hand on my shoulder and looked away nonchalantly. I mean, in some cultures, a better word would be 'emoly', but I'm not emo. I'm not. Ignore all those other kids. I'm not.
I was sure I heard her gasp just a little- not a real, exasperated gasp, just the same way anime characters always do when you say something. I put on my headphones and walked away into the evening. Didn't I just freaking say I'm not emo?
"Bye, Yuzukida!" Why was she always so cheerful? Why did she have to be cheerful all the friggin' time? Couldn't she just be like Shadow or Sync for a change? At least they used the zippers on their mouths.
The fiery sun filtered through rustling oak leaves standing in a line for miles in the centre of the street me, and whatever was left over splashed on the parallel houses.
Evening sucks. It's like it's trying to be morning, but the day dies instead. Fail.
Night. My favourite time of day.
The upper reaches of Miyashita-Cho screamed with the intensity of a galaxy. Neon. More fffriggin' neon. If it's not bright and shining, it doesn't belong. The traffic lines on the street? Neon. The street? Neon. Neon black.
I know you're bored. I am too. Nothing ever happens here. Somewhere along the line, life stopped being stupid. Life stopped being crazy. Now life just is.
And that sucks so much ass. Epic levels of ass. Just cosmic ass.
I readied my paint can. Here I come up to a blank, white wall. Then I let my wild mind go, tagging it all. Up and down, my arm moves. Left -ways, right-ways, this way, that way, high-ways, by-ways, screw ways, new ways. Screw thinking- just spray.
Then I wake up. Daydream's over. It's enough to make me cry some times. I see the other kids doing it all the time, having a blast, just being themselves. And then, when they're done, it looks like freakin' Street Picasso or something. Whenever I try, it just looks like lines. Anorexic lines. Anorexic lines with hard diarrhea. Seriously.
10 years ago, if anyone tried this, they'd be seen as insane, like they're trying to replicate some corny video game or something. But I was a stupid, spoiled little kid back then.
I wanted to be like them. I tried to run away from home. I tried to get a cool street name. I tried to join a gang.
Nah. They say my arm's are too flabby. They say my leg's are too stubby. They say I can't knock out a pig for my life. They say my art's too amateurish to be rookie. They say I suck at skating. They say I suck at freerunning. One look at my hair, or hearing my name, and people say that I had better luck making it as a manga star. I mean, what the *hell* is that even supposed to mean?
I pushed open the door. The alley way stunk. Boards were leaning against the walls. Smoke was coming out of the edges of a manhole cover. The door itself was crusty and dirty. It was like a lame retro Hollywood movie in this one alley.
So like I said, I pushed open the door. Inside, safe from the world outside (or outside, safe from the world inside, depending on how you look at it, but that's my own worthless opinion), incomprehensible techno or funk music was blaring. I, well... heh, I was never too big a fan of total electronic music myself, but I knew the gangs themselves were too well identified with funky music.
So I sorta just made myself like it. By pretending to like it, I hated it even more.
I walked in to a lake of faces my age, younger than me, older than me, all out for at least one good time in their miserable, workless lives. Imagine a rave crossed with an acid trip. Throw in an LOL or two.
Dance.
As soon as I heard the music, that's all I wanted to do. Yeah, my body bounced and waved a bit to the beat, but I kept myself together most of the time.
I looked beyond the neon pink, yellow, whatev lights and the collective love-dance to see some figure in black stand at the far edge of the club.
Distance. Factor in distance. I put my hand over my eyes just to make sure I was seeing who I thought I was seeing.
"Ladies and gentlebots," the DJ suddenly screamed over the microphone. "You-you-you-you-yu-y-u-yu-yu-y-y-y-y-y-y-yyyyYOU wanted it! You got it! Here's Computerheads? with their latest groooove, ZupaElektroniiiiiix!" There was a wave of whooping as holograms flashed to life onstage. Not that it should freak you out or anything, or give you the wrong idea, but most of the people dancing were holograms too.
As before, funk music began playing. This time, it was marginally better that what was forced in my ears last time, not that I'm surprised.
"Shadow! Shadow!" I called out as I entered the last corridor.
"Guitar, what the hell." Some trampy girl was leaning on the wall. Yeah, one eighth-second glance and I could tell she's another one of his girlfriends just by how fake and don't-give-a-damn-about-who-shags-me look she had on her face. Her pinky-red hair was the usual short style with two long, indigo bangs over her face. I didn't want to look at them anymore, that disgusting snarl her face was wearing was pissing me off. Like all the other girls Shads hangs out with, she wore a black T-shirt just large enough to cover her, unsurprisingly, large rack, and that's it. And, for 'pants', imagine tight-ass denim tights, holes ripped every other inch. Yeah, that's what she was wearing. Like with all the other girls out there, it didn't help how depressingly ugly she was. I'm starting to think all girls are ugly. On her feet were a pair of skates. I could've cared less- every teknik these days owns a pair. It was what was on them that made me think just a littl- Ow... thinking hurts.
"Who's the latest booty call?"
"Don't you have something better to do?" he so gloomily exploded. A goth exploding. I... I don't really see how that works.
"If you actually had a soul, I might've been scared," I retorted.
"Funny coming from you, Guitar."
Shadow was weird in a way. He's definitely one of them, but he doesn't really have the look. Actually, the way he's dressed, you'd think he spends most of his day beating them up. I read something about popular styles in earlier centuries. Long ago, in the 1970s, his style was popular among hard rock and roll fans. But his vibe I'd call goth.
His hair was somewhat curly and kinda nicely kept- I'd call it that, but then again, some would call it straight but unruly. That's not the point- the length is to his shoulder, and it's fully jet black. That's what matters. Unlike almost all the others, he never makes the attempt to mold it into some crazy, funky manga do. He had huge, black sunglasses that he wears everywhere. He wore a black-on-purple striped shirt under a heavy, black coat, the front always open. His pants were an old, faded ebony denim jeans. Such unoriginality for a teknik. Nevertheless, he prolly could pass off for some rock n' roller. Again, for a hardline goth... goths today just don't do the long hair or breezer coats anymore.
But who cares. He was too busy uh...
...Yeah...
...with his eighth "girlfriend" this week to do anything.
So I left.
"Guitar, buddy! Leavin' so soon?" Nah, I won't turn. Screw'em. He'll be fine. "A'ight. I'jus'...eh... stand ov' here...By the nachos...alone... by myself..." Cue fake-ass crying loop.
This is normal.
In the corner of my eye, I saw her. Bomb. Again.
Screw chasing. I don't care. I've had enough girls for today.
It was actually site of this crazeh-lookin' dude with these wild-ass headphones that caught my attention.
"Hyp?" Damn, I thought, not them! Why here, why now... As I stand under some sick street light, I stared into his eyes and thought 'Gawdammit! My ass is grass!' That was when...
"Yo!" He skated towards me. Skoot? Skite? Skated? What-the-(bleep)-ever. I backed up a step or two. "Yo! Wait, dude!"
"That's not Dr. Hyp..." I whispered under my breath. He had the huge headphones. He even nailed the hair to a point. Was it his brother? "Who are you?" I shout out. "Stop, I said, who. Are you?"
"Huh?" He stopped and looked a bit confused for a sec.
"Name. Like, y'know, that word they give you when you're born?"
"Real name or the one I go by?"
"Whatever." Like I cared.
"I'm Beat." Oh god, maybe I am emo!
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| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:12 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 2 "Treefingers" - Spoiler:
"Take the note, (bleep)! Take it!" A dove singing fire came down with more shockwaves than Fat Man or Little Boy. The newspaper buzzed even more nonsense. Cue The Prodigy... No, this is no recess. Enter the mouth of the dragon, pistol in hand. Fire, fire fire. Down the man goes. What was his story? Don't turn back and think. Walk away and smell the rain glazed grass.
If only there were others like me and this loon over here.
Type 2; Type 3, open file.
Print "hello world"
file_open
Here be the world. All languages I own. Humans are the most wondrous failures of all. Some car just past. White man in black. Black man in white. Why are they standing here? Creeper. And those shiny things behind their sunglasses... Not eyes. Not human! Wait, no chase. Not even another look. Not Reapers.
This is a perfect day. Another perfect day? Why two? The Reapers' are here. Run into Shiba'. Run back to 'Bukuro. Shibukuro. My real plastic home. It was before now, at least. There he is- the man with angel wings.
"TV is totally awesome. Radio is still fun. Mirrors are more fun than television." Hanekoma said that. Ride the waves. The brainwaves, ride the brainwaves. Plant myself in the radio waves. Surf their cell phones. Blast through their TVs. Infect their brains. And that's meme implanting. This whole generation's connected to the radio waves, and they're all stupid enough to let themselves be- Another one. Fire, fire fire. Burn, yes, you're going to burn. Lightning bolt. End it with a car to the face. Walk away with money. Why and how I got money from a conglomerate of tattoos I don't know. But I got a pin, so that's good enough.
Day one, almost done.
"Have you seen Guitar?" The white-haired girl looks back, giving him one more look before replying.
"You mean Yuzukida? Ah... I thought he'd be with one'a the Runners, or at Teknopathe_tik."
"Ah, jeez. I thought he might at least be with his least favorite fangirl," he says, rubbing the back of his spiky-haired head. For this, he receives a fly-swatter to the face. She turns away and folds her arm, her index finger tapping her shoulder with enough force to take down a dam. "Overreaction much?" He then adds on, checking to see if there is a fire on his throbbing face.
"Dell! Eraza!" someone shouts from a city block down. His voice is only slightly weakened by the crowds.
"Here comes Video."
"Hey guys! Have you heard? The Yellow Scarves just got into the huge clash with the Blue Squares!"
"Wait, the- the..." The one who's most likely Dell, now picking himself up, looks concerned towards this news. "How'd it happen?"
"Some kid got shot in Shibuya, and some guy in the Blue Squares blamed it on another guy, some Runner, in the Yellow Scarves. The police said that X-Jet probably did it to get back at the GGs or Poison Jam for that massive-ass tag at their base in Jekyll and Hyde Park the other day, but apparently, those color gang losers didn't get the message. All of east Ikebukuro is a mess now because of somethin' that went down in Shibuya."
"But who was shot?" Eraza asks.
"Some kid. Something. Something Sakuraba. Neku, I think."
"Neku Sakuraba? Never heard of'em," Dell retorts, taking a look and then snatching at something in Video's hands. "Yo, Video. What's this you got there?"
"Ah!" Video crounches, ready to pounce on Dell to get the sepia paper back. "Gimme that back, jackass! That's personal stu-"
"Ooh! Trampin' around with the Psychoteque, are you?" Dell's tone has become totally gossip-laden.
"No!" Video snatches it back. "I'm just... Running... for them. The Runners left a coupla' bags in Rokakku Dai-Heights, so I gotta get past those Rokakku Grays and-"
"Ah, whatev." Dell punches him on his shoulder.
Wait a second... That's... That's Tektonik! That's my crew... They have no idea what's going on, do they?
But how did they end up in this world? Is this Miyashita-Cho or Tokyo?
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| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:13 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 3 "Twilight" - Spoiler:
Standing next to 104. This isn't happening. How did I get here? Oh crap. Oh crap. I shouldn't be here! How did I get in this weird Miyashita-Cho? Crap. And why do I have these memories? They aren't mine. They're somebody elses! But this person... I remember him! He's me! Oh crap, here they come. Not again. Ugh! G-get off me.. .Get your hands off me..
"So, you got them money yet?" Tom asks, sunglasses blackened out in the lighting.
"L-Listen, I have the money! I-it's in an American account! J-just l-let me get stateside and I'll wire ya the mon- huurk!"
"So it's not in Japan." What am I talking about! What the hell is an America, o-or a Japan?
"I just said it's in the States, man! Let me-... Oh no. No, no, no, (bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep)! Not (bleep) Shizuo! Dude, I-I-I'll, w-w-ait, I- I can-"
WHO THE HELL IS SHIZUO?
*YAHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!*
Ugh... what happened... Where am I? Great, not here. But where's here? Why can I remember this place? It's been, like, four days... Wait, I got knocked out by Shizuo, woke up in a sewer in Shibuya... damn, that guy's strong... Agh... Some kid helped me up... I ate ramen... Some police car was chasing down big teddy bears through Dogenzaka... Some girl showed me her boobies... Shadow appeared... I went to A-East... Then what? Everything from there's a blur.
There... ugh... What..what are they saying?
Wait, which have I gone to? The Yagiri Pharma or Medical Mechanica? Which one? God, please, please be Medical Mechanica... But what the heck's Medical Mechanica? I don't wanna go there either!
"...Fezz issa non..." What? Agh, my head. Hey wait, dammit, where's my head? Where the hell's my body?
"Sessla...isseeese..." They take a- Holy (bleep) crap, that's ME! I-I'm looking at me!
"Hey, Shizuo!" The two stop. Cat Street shimmers under a tree at noon, doesn't it?
"Hey, Hanekoma." Tom and Shizuo turn towards a certain Hanekoma. The former smiles, while the latter readjusts his glasses, checking out Mr. H's threads at the same time. Could Kasuka have been more unoriginal? Same name brand. Same style.
"You been to Ælcorus yet?" Mr. H asks, hand rubbing the back of his head.
"Planning to. How's Joshua? He still in trance?"
"Nah, the kid's on his own. He's got some friend he's meetin' at Pirandello Kruger later on."
"So how'd the last Game go?"
"Ehhh, not too good. Reapers took out all the Players by Day 2. That's the last time the Reapers get to hunt all week. And of course," Mr. H's face sours, "Izaya found out about the game." A picture is slammed on the desk. "Medical Mechanica. That place and Yagiri have successfully brought a person back to life while she was in the middle of a Reaper's Game. Now all our truths are about to comin' out our asses." Tom Tanaka and Shizuo Heiwajima get the message.
"Short, slender, blonde hair, blue eyes, scar over her left eye, and a gunshot wound to the temple. Connections with the Yakuza."
"Anything else?" Shizuo adds.
"Oh yeah- She always wears stately and princely equestrian clothes with a huge skull in the middle. In other words She's a walking bullseye. Think ya' can pull it off?"
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| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:14 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 4 "Morningstar" - Spoiler:
The second dog barks just as loud as the first. Here I am. Back in Miyashita-Cho. Oh great, it's X-Jet. Not them... not- oh, that's right. I'm a "Player." They can't see me. They can't hear me... Perhaps I gave this the wrong credit. Alright, I'd better just leave, they're looking my way too much. I don't like this. They have to know, crap! They know I'm here! Agh, yes...Pant...Pant... Thank god for trains. Oh looky here, it's some Yellow Scarves. Asses. Look at their numbers. Let me put on this weird-ass bracelet and get these pins ready.
"Hey, look at that emo kid!" Wait, what? They can see me? "He's a magician!" Ugh, I hate that freaking fake, 'I hate myself so let me laugh at you' collective gangsta laugh track these brain-a-gone imbeciles always belch out.
"Hey, emo kid! Can you pull a rabbit outta this (bleep bleep)?" Cue laugh track. Oh yeah, right. Poor tramp, though. I'll never understand women, they always hang around these asshole asses, flashing their asses around everywhere. Their spit's in my face. Yuck. I thought that , when I died, that would stop.
"Hey, emo kid! Can-can you turn water inta' wine?" So now you think I'm that Jesus guy, huh? If there is a Jesus, there's no reason He'd put me through this. Screw'em.
"Hey, emo kid! Can you eat lightning and (bleep) thunder?" Ahh! My (bleep) head! Dammit, I'm dead, I shouldn't have freaking felt that! Wait, that's not a beer bottle. What the hell? What the hell is 'Valkyr?' Ow... man, my head. Damn, that hurt.
"H-holy (bleep), dude!" Haha, that's right. Squirm on the ground. Run away like wussies. Fear my almighty psychokinesis- Agghh! Crap, N-Noise! I shouldn't have freaking use my pins! How the hell could I? I thought I could only use them in battle! Gasp. Wait, I remember what that Reaper cow said! There's a No-Noise Silent Hill at New Eden! Maybe if I get there, I can I-I-I can... Wait, there's no way this is happening. This is really happening!
A'ight, time to calm the noise. No, hush the noise. No, crush the noise!
"Oh Guitaaaa-aaar!" CRAAAAAAAAAAAAP! Not! Her! Not! Her! God! Hates! Me! I! Hate! Him! "Chill the hell out, Mister Animemo."
"Bomb, get the (bleep)." Oh, who am I fooling'? A troll this hardcore will never get the (bleep). They want the (bleep).
"Go ahead to New Eden. Trust me, though- you'd prolly wanna swing by the Sega After Expo first, Ã mon avis."
"Go away, Bomb. You ruined the freaky, description-minimalist, first person action paragraph."She giggles to begin with, but stops and looks around. "Hey, get off."
"W-where's your partner?" Oh, yeah, describing her. You're still reading. Yeah, Bomb looks like some emo chick I saw, even though she's not really emo. She wears this huge, black beret she stole from Shadow. It has a big red star on it, the star of some South American socialist revolutionary group. From here, she has longer highlighted black hair- the highlights are some reddish pink. Like all proper Teknik NSRs, she wears headphones, but actually puts it on the wrong way- the head of it goes over her chin. And her shirt? Boobs are covered, part of her chest is covered. Other than that, I can't really... And she wears these tight-as-hell leather shorts. Over her boobs and on her ass are two more red stars. Same on these knee-high skates she has. I call'er "Redstar", actually, although "Red troll' would be better. So now you know. That's Bomb- AKA, Madelynne Lamartinaire.
"Oh, him? He got erased yesterday, but I'm still here."
"Oooh! That means I got something to report to the Game Master, mon ami!" Aw, you wretched sorry son of a... "Adieu, vous drôle petit cul! Rendez-vous en enfeeeer!" No! If she wasn't dead already, I'd kill her... *Seethes* *Seethes*
Aggghhhhhh! AGGGGGGHHHH! THIS IS WHY I HATE GIRLS!
[realground]
[IKEBUKURO]
"Mikado!"
"Oh, hey there, Dell. What brings you to Raira this early?"
"I should ask you the same. Shadow wants in! He wants to be part of the Dollars. Yeah, he thinks that the Yellow Scarves's got too many Runners. They own all the information in A-East and Harajuka, y'know."
"Wait, but why me?" Mikado was visibly concerned and quickly looks towards Masaomi and Anri, the latter blushing and looking down.
"I'on'ow. Some mental dude with white super saiyan hair told me to go to you. Just connect us to the Dollars and we'll give you some dirt on the Psychoteque and Ælcorus."
"But-"
"If I'm not in town, just tell Yuzukida, OK?" His voice fades out completely as he turns a corner two blocks down.
"...Well, that was random!" Masaomi comments. "Noob looked like he belongs in Bladerunner or something."
"Yuzu...kida?" Anri innocently asked.
"Your last name's Kida, right? Is he like your brother?"
"Nah, never heard a' the guy."
"Mikado, you know him?"
"H-huh?"
"That person. Who just ran away, I mean."
"Oh! You mean...Um, well, yeah, sorta-" BAAAAM! Masaomi and Anri rush to Mikado's side.
"Whoa, dude!"
"Are you alright?"
"I should've seen'em coming!"
"Mikado, don't try to move!"
"Aw man! Another mark! Why do I keep on hitting humans..."
"Hey, you!" Masaomi runs to the perp, a yellow moped laying on its side just half of a meter from them. "What's the big idea blowing your moped through a ..." Jesus... C...Chirst.
The troubles from Mabase has finally caught up to them.
Above all their troubles shines the morning star, a solemn observer to the follies and joys of the unaware people below.
| |
| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:18 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 5 "Digital Graffiti" - Spoiler:
[digital overground] Here, you damned virus. Here. Why do I waste my time. That's right- New Eden. From there, I'll be able to get myself to Medical Mechanica. I have to see my body again. I have to. But what I've already been... If they take my corpse to, to, to... Crap! There's Noise in the radio waves! Of course. The Reapers are smart. What better way to mass implant apathy, uncreativity, and ennui to than masses than by electronics? e=mc2. Fly by wire through light. Then make the trip to the Rocket Tower. Neon again, neon everywhere. Programmes look like people. More neon. Bright turquoise, bright magenta, bright lime, bright gold. And Digital Noise. All my pins have become tiny pixels of light. But what about my TAKs? The whole world was ripped off of Tron. Legacy too. Like cross Tron: Legacy with Star Wars. And everyone doesn't talk, they sing. All their voices combine into one autotuned choir. Walking? Overrated- they dance down sidewalks, if you can call those sidewalks. Neon turquoise circuit tattoos paint all of their faces and, agh.. It's like some Sci-Fi Twilight. All these emos. All these glowing, freakish emos. But what the hell am I talking about? Tron? Star Wars? Twilight? More Noise, now what- Aghh! They fused with the viruses! No, (bleep), I got hit! Cue Derezzed, dammit. [realground] An angel's feather disappears against the backdrop of a cloud, then free fall floats. It's new home is on the surface of a pond.
[SHIBUYA CROSSING]
[Day Six]
[2:40 PM]
A man. A graffiti tag. Blood sans a body. Police tape. A crowd. Phone camera clicks. "Hayashi, that's the fifth non-gang murder by a color gang today!" One spits into the face of another. The victim takes it, however, himself disgusted by the new scene. "Captain, I assure you, we'll find-" Metal fists clang against a car. "I don't (bleep)ing want you to find the perps, I want you to wipe out all the color gangs in Tokyo!" "But, sir, what about-" "No one goes into Mirraland until we figure out if stepping foot in it will turn one of our men to ash again." The door to a solid ebony car slams shut. Gently, it rides off.
[IKEBUKURO]
[2:45 PM]
bravenewworld: c ya in a hr setton Setton Has Left The Chat Room Triple Seven Has Joined The Chat Room bravenewworld: hi 777  u just missd setton. 777: i hrd there's anthr clr gng in ikbkr bravenewworld: the black flags? 777: u hrd? bravenewworld: hrd of em? hell yeh. 777: ur nota part of em huh bravenewworld:... A kid, no older than fifteen, puts his head down on the desk before looking at a small portrait. Black bangs cross over both of his eyes only thinly. "Yeah... I am." [IKEBUKURO]
[2:50 PM] "The Black Flags?" Masaomi's eyes continue to look at the picture. A neon turquoise skull criss-crossed by digital brackets for bones. Its empty black eyes are sharp. Two light sabers, both red, cross its head. All posed on a black background. "Great."
[underground]
[IKEBUKURO]
"Oh gods, man, I need a chocolate break." Seventeen years old, long red hair, and a huge beret on her head, this Reaper lays back on a concrete divider, wings-and legs- spread as she sucks on a lollipop." "Why the long face?" A silhouette asks. "I only snagged one stupid player." "Daaayum, one? Six days al'edy passed, gir," a third blackened Reaper speaks. "You know they ain't funna be nice on you." "Yeah, I know." She sighs. "What do they do to failure reapers?" A second passes before there's a reply in the air. "Erase'em," is what the first Reaper lays down. Another minute of silence. "Well, at least you're not-" OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
[SHIBUYA] 'INFORMATION FOR SALE'. Why waste your yen, your perfectly good yen, on some dirty poor people and charity when you could just buy some sound? Three coyotes already stand ready. "And it's how much?" another pink haired girl- this one's hair far shorter but clothes just as scampy- asks in a cell phone. "100,000 a word?" Click. Crush. "AAAAGGH! When I find that (bleep)ing Player, I'ma tear her apart!" "Bad nerves?" "Hell yeah, bad nerves, because our whole operation is about to be leaked by some snitch!" "Wasn't anything like this back in '07, but that's what happens when you aren't thorough..." "And who are you to talk about 'thorough'? " "I know, I know, it's like me to wanna take their precious li'l time but..." Kariya chuckles. "Anyone who's ever picked up any mag from Mabase knows you shoulda' killed off all the Players on Day One. It was only a matter of time." "Well... I suppose... But she's gonna wake up any day-" "Already did." "What?" "Mariko awoke from her eternal slumber three days ago, only to escape from the Medical Mechanica facility and return to Tokyo." Kariya walks to the edge of a building top. "If we're lucky, she'll be in Shibuya. As it happens, the Big Man Above gave us a no-go beyond Shibuya borders. Not even into 'Bukuro or 'Juka." "Where is he anyway?" "How should I know? His vibe is too set high for us plain folk. So, whaddya suggest we do, Ms. Proxy?"
OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo~OoOo~OoOoOo~OoOoOoOo~OoOo
[digital overground]
[]
"Yuzukida, you left me!" She halves over onto her knees, panting. "I told you, call me Guitar. That's my real name." "Heh...heh... Yeah, right, I know better. I'm not that dun, Yuzukida." I thhhhhink she means 'dumb.' Think. "So what-a do we do about the Noise Tanks?" Sigh. "We-wait. Noise Tanks?" Idiot, just because they're called 'Noise Tanks' doesn't mean they're actually noise. ... Shoot, another thing I know but don't know. "No, the Noise Tanks aren't Noise, they're droids." A Noise Tank walks into the digital square and, after boogying as if infected by Flood, it explodes. Ten Noise Frogs jump out. "Damn..." This again. Raise the anti-virus blocks. This cyberkinesis pin works wonders. My partner'll rain the pain with an netquake that's crash the mainframe. Heh. 'Rain the Pain.' Good one. Even for me.
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| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:19 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 6 "Everything In Its Right Place" - Spoiler:
"Get him online, stat!" "We're losing him!" "This guy's gone, this is madness!" "I've never seen injuries this extensive!" "Get this clothing off him, now!" "What clothing, it's all been blown off!" "He's not gonna make it down this hall!" "How is he not DOA?" And there he was. His spirit had left his body. Where it went after that, I can only imagine. Whether Heaven and Hell, Nirvana, reincarnation, all that wonderful little bull exists or not is something I don't care about. Oh how I love the twisting faces of these middle-aged sacks of disappointed humans. Failures. "No, he's not responding!" "I can't get a pulse!" "Who cares about the damn pulse, if we can keep his brain alive...!" "Not even that, there's not even a single brain wave." "He's dead." Heeheehee... "Dead"... what a funny word... [Underground] [SEGA AFTER EXPO: ROCKET TOWER] [everything in its right place] Here I am! I beat your goddamn game! Now lemme out! C'mon out here and die, mother(bleep)er! Oh that's right, you're already dead! "Guitar," she says, tugging at my arm. "Keep it dow-" "Screw keeping it down!" I exploded. Or, well, explode. To keep it in tense, explode. "My memories vanish every time I wake up! My life before I died, the life I lived in Miyashita-Cho... It's all slipping. Everything that happened before I died..." Or whatever happened. "I have a right to know, and these ultra mega dickheads are keepin' 'em from me. I'm dead. You're dead. This is our chance to retur-" "LISTEN! Yuzukida Orihara, will you please listen for one second?! It's only Day Six! We meet the Game Master tomorrow!" LOL. "You... do know I'm over here, right?" "H-huh? Oh, sorry." Ok, I did that one for some lulz. A blind girl without her glasses? How could I resist? Did it all the time back at the nursing home. Too bad I don't know this flake or where she came from. Wait, nursing home? What's this about a nursing... Agh! More freaking memories I can't remember! "Guitar, do you think maybe..." Too many ellipses. Christ. Wait, who's Christ? "Maybe when we return to life, we can-" Augh, screw'er. Maybe we're wasting our time. There was nothing in life to return to. I mean, nothing. And besides, I don't even know if I'll even return to the same Miyashita-Cho. At least I wanna know why I have someone else's memories. These memories... I own them, but I never had them... Why? And why are my own memories here too? Dammit, this doesn't make any sense. I know! I just have to beat the game, and it'll all come back. Maybe my memories were my entry fee? No, that doesn't make any sense either. But in the case they were, or at least, the sense of my memories were, the question'll turn- will I even like what I see? Will I regret ever wanting to know? Man, life is fickle. "I'm" just a bunch of neurons trying to survive. Think about it. My skeleton doesn't care about life. Nor does my arm, or my head, or my hair. They don't love people. My neurons do. And why do they? They're trying to keep themselves alive, selfish bastard cells. My body's just along for the ride. And what the hell is love but using someone else your neurons find useful? If I come back to life, so what? Think of the kind of life I'd live. You're supposed to live a long and happy one, but none of these monkeys even care about it. Yet society cries whenever a child dies. But why? The good life? The hell's the good life? Sleep. Eat. Crap. Piss. Laugh. Cry. Buy food that tastes good, but it's the same food as anything else. Dream about something. Do it. Live with it. People recognize it, and you get money so you can do more sleeping, eating, crapping, pissing, laughing, and crying. Then, at the end, you die the same way you came in- with nothing, while all those trifling humans sawder over what you may have thought of. And a house is just a house. Rich people buy big ones, poor people live in small ones if they can... but it's just a freaking house. It protects you from bugs and rain... Life is just so... stupid. This place... Now I realize... This place... Is my home. [Realground]
[Day Seven]
[SHIBUYA] Pan over a yellow emptied spray can. A crowd marvels. Black-on-yellow tape herds them back. All of the street is... "Dammit." "The GG's, captain?" A man donning a sepia trench coat and black sunglasses turns to a second character rivaling his stature. Both stand out in the aura of a sole lamp while basking in the city's nightlights. "Why'd the GG's do something they know would incriminate them? Even the HappyBears! know when to keep low. I mean, I'd expect the HappyBears! But the GG's?" "All the gangs are pushing their goddamn luck." The captain's bionic arm punches through the hood of the police car. It's his multiple badges that identifies him as the captain. Above them, the landing lights of a passenger jet flicker on in and out of a cloud, taking the trench coat-covered man's attention away for just a second. "But we-" "What." Hesitation. "The evidence pointed to The Psychoteque. That they did this." "That group of cybergoths" The captain chomps down on a nougat bar. Chewing interrupting his words, he barks, "This is a gang war waiting to happen. And it won't be the rudies, NSRs, and color gangs against each other like it has been, it'll be against themselves!" Another chomp. "Do you know how much (bleep) this city'll be in when that happens?" "Perhaps we could curb this, but we'd need support from them." The captain throws him a half-filled glare. "No, we're not doing that yet. Right now, we don't need them. The Rokkaku Police is doing all it can, and it's helping to stem some of the tide, dammit." Chomp. Chew, chew, chew. Spitting bits of chocolate and nougat into his partner's face, he then raises his voice, "Because I'd rather use Odin than those guys, the Golden Rhinos" "But what if the gang war's closer than it appe-" "Captain, we've just captured a Runner and his bag," someone shrills from the captain's walkie talkie. "He's already in interrogation, over." "Which side's he on?" Chomp. The response isn't a shattering one, just 'the Yellow Scarves.' "Another Yellow Scarves Runner, eh? What's in his bag?" "A lot of Black Flag materiel, but we think he's also hiding QR codes in the fabric of his bag." Suddenly, the captain spits out his nougat bar. "Wait, you're calling from Rokkaku Dai Heights? What's an Ikebukuro color gang's Runner doing in the Kogane District?" Damn it damn, he'd damn better damn not damn say- "He claims he was recruiting non-color gang members." Dayum! "We caught him when he was being chased by, get this, Yellow Scarves gangsters." "Then this means they're spreading and defecting?!" Chomp! "Takashi, you've got ESP. This gang war is close." A car passes them by, before the street returns to its silent default, the only sounds being that of the suburbs and the grasshoppers in the bushes. "The Static Police, that's it!" "Captain, you know we can't go into Mirraland!" "Ah, but that's what you think!" The next thing they feel is 'wet.' The next thing they hear is 'hiss.' The next thing they see are 'colors.' The next thing they taste is 'street.' The next thing they smell is 'paint.' Tagged. Just like the street and the senator's mansion.
| |
| | | | SelMelvins
Posts : 38
Join date : 2012-09-23
Age : 30
Location : Sith Academy, Korriban
| | Subject: Re: The Fanfiction Topic Sun Sep 23, 2012 6:59 pm | |
| Freejazz Theta Chapter 7 "Spectrus Ex Machina" - Spoiler:
Toden! Mishaka! Yorimori! Ban-ZAAII! Cheap warriors duke it out on a screen.
"What the hell's up with this lame ass Americanime?" As Tomio sips some soda, this be his rescript: emo flair with a fuzzy navy jacket, camo baggies, and a skull cap.
"That's USicans for you. And the saddest thing is that the piece a' crap actually has a freaking huge fanbase in the States and they actually think it was shipped over there from us. Just because it's that low qual trash anime they think it's Japanimation." And this is Masahiko.
"This thing's for babies. I stopped watching corny s**t like this when I was five." A cigarette burns. "But you know those saggy western white chicks- if it has one drop of blood in it, it either shouldn't be a cartoon or's from our humble li'l island."
"And check this out- these guys, these-these trolls on some forum think that all anime's like this. What friggin' sheep! There's like, ten manga haters trollin' these boards." He snickers. "If this is what USicans think we actually watch all the time, I wouldn't blame 'em! They actually think this is a high quality anime! And- bwahahaha! Some'a- haha- some'a these sheeps are thinkin' freakin' Dragon Balls is the most violent manga ever!"
"They wouldn't know a quality manga if it hit'em 'cross their heads and sucked their hearts out through their necks." Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Bee- "The hell you want?"
"Bustards to bastards. Did you died? Three Reapers Weeping. Three Minutes Clapping." Click. Silence. Dial tone.
"Uh..."
"The hell was that?"
"Phone troll."
"Phone troll?" The minute peeks out blinds, he doves to the floor. "Duck!" A Grunge Wolf rockets through the window, allied with Jellymancers.
"Where's my goddamn pins?!" As Tomio throws everything off the desk, he's struck by a claw across his body. He screams out, disappearing in a digital fog.
Masahiko wields three pins and throws his entire body into the air. "EAT ME!" The entire floor erupts into a sonic explosion. A shockwave ripples violently whittling apart the Noise's false bodies.
"Hey!" The door flies open, cracking against the wall. "I told ya' I'ma put the cops on yo asses-..." The tenant peers around an empty room. He switches off the TV and shuts the window, scratching his head upon noticing it's been broken from the outside in. Glass sprinkles the floor by his feet, and two openings aren't shattered- something melted through them going in. The clincher is that, as he looks down, a garbage dumpster shrinks beneath his pinkie and so does the nearest building. "Thought I heard somethin'. Damn, now I feel outta whack."
"Our top news story this morning- Area 51, the mythical American military base, is rumored to have given Scandinavian based conglomerate Valhalla Corporation an unknown cache of top secret technology. As has been heavily followed by global traders, the recent mega-merger between Valhalla Corporation, Pirandello Kruger, Yagiri Pharmaceuticals, and Medical Mechanica has driven European stocks sharply upwards in what has enthusiastically become known by speculators as 'The Big Bang.'"
[Scene Two]
[Backdrop]
[Symphonics]
[spectrus ex machina]
"Are you sure that it's here?"
"I'll answer with a question- 'Do you know Mirraland?" Mikado stands back.
"M-Mirraland?"
"Nope. I can tell! Yeah, you kids have been takin' the blue pill for waaay too long." No one notices the Freejazzfrogs and Bibansprogs racing behind them, save a handful of spectators. "You can't even tell truth from fiction, and you definitely don't know what to think about it."
"Well, Misses Haruhara, what should we be thinking about!"
"Aw, he's blushing," Masaomi kids.
"The Underground." The three gasp slightly.
"Under...ground? You-you mean like the subway?"
"No. What I- stupid humans- what you're looking at now is the Realground. All the things you know, you see, you hear- all that's the Realground. Then there's the Underground, or UG as we- *ahem*- insiders like to call it."
"Is-"
"And you can call the Realground the RG, but I hope you already figured that out."
"Uh- i-is that what we think?"Mikado tries again, taken off by Haruko's interruption.
"This kid's clueless."
"Tell me about it."
"The Underground is where you go when you die."
Over dramatic much? Masaomi rolls his eyes while Mikado and Anri listen only half believing.
Yuzukida rushes through a fog and drops his hand, slashing down three. And he stand back to back, stare down the remaining Noise. Physical pins are all they wield, yet are their only banes. Orihara curses himself, curses his neurons specifically, for ever having been brainless and empty enough to have taken what was obviously Reaper-laid bait. Freerunning. That's how they'll get out of this. It's time to run!
"Why are we running? They too much for you?"
"Just run, foo'!"
"Big letdown coming from you, Yuzukiki..."
"Shut up."
Trucks become stairs, and rails become branches. Like monkeys, like us really, the swing across this concrete jungle (an ancient building material long made obsolete, concrete is).
"So this Underground is connected to a 'Mirraland' is what we should be thinking about?"
"Finally, we're getting somewhere!" Suddenly, suddenly, suddenly, something crunches under Haruko's boot. As she stoops down to snatch it up, Mikado comments-
"Is that a... worm?"
"With a tattoo for a tail?"
"It's a sprog, doofus."
"With a tatted tail. Is anyone not seeing that?"
"It's straight from the UG... This can only mean..."
"I haven't seen any tattoo-tailed critters," a passerby screams into his phone. "And I think people who do are just drunk or hallucis- ye-ye-yes! I mean, no! I don't think you're drunk! At least not right now." The voice on the other end comes through loud and clear. "Oh, yeah right. I've heard better lies from- I didn't say you do! Waaghh!" The cell phones clacks on the ground, the voice still and silent on the other end, with only intervals of questioning grunts continu- crush.
"You're a freaking librarian... and you're screaming in your own damn library?!"
"He-hey, Shizuo, wa-wa-wait! I-I was just PO'ed at my daughter is all! I didn't mean to disturb you or anythi-" Times up. Away he goes, a UFO to any spectator on the ground.
"Ah, crap. Dammit, Shizuo. That's another lawsuit we didn't need."
"If there's one thing I hate more than rule breakers, it's rule makers breaking their own damn rules. That asshole had it coming." Ravens cart off above them, and a lone owl sleeps nested within one of the flying buttresses. "I got tired listening to that idiot whine. He wants to marry his daughter? Fine. Just don't freaking scream it back in my ears!"
"That was TMI. Speaking of which, where is Mariko anyway? The client said she haunted this place at eight o'clock sharp every morning."
"Think someone tipped her off?" Tom frowns as he considers this.
"That would mean somebody might be trying to set us up. That, or the girl's three steps ahead of us." Then he face palms and sighs. "We should just get out of here before the police show up. I'm getting bad vibes from this place." Rightly so, for the forlorn library is as gothic as they come. The perfectly proportioned rows, the pedantic rectangles, the light dying to darkness in the corners, curves, and slants of the roof, and the owls and ravens sitting on the Roman pedestals... it's the perfect place for a final titanic clash.
"This is it, Yuzukida. We finally get to see the Game Master." Guitar remains quiet and emo, letting his bangs fall over his eyes and face. "We got this far together." Guitar maintains his posture. "Ready?" Silence is a sickening for as long as he lets it.
"You mind... speaking to me?" The girl's giving her dramatic speech to a statue of a naked angel.
"Huh?" She feels around of the statue. "This is your face, right?" 'Kida looks back into the girl's white eyes, his own eyes twitching.
"You're... feeling around on an angel's ass."
"Oh!" Recoils and stumbles onto Guitar. Promptly so, he whisks her to her and drags her into the library. They come to two oaken mahogany doors that creeeeeeeak when opening. Guitar looks back, not even realizing until now that they've phased through two people.
"Shizuo?"
"Hm?"
"Huh? What's wrong, Shizuo? Why'd you turn around?"
"Sorry, I just... thought I heard someone say my name." They exit.
[Jekyll and Hyde Park]
["Mirraland"]
The many beings- transhuman, post-humans, and robots laugh in strange digital tongues as they watch the confused humans struggle to survive. Among these humming superbeings is none other than Shadow, partnered with Dell.
"Those fools in Otherside don't even know what's going on." Next to him is an equally goth-clad man, but with bone-white hair and a red-skull-pin esque design holographically existing on the tips.
"What I laugh at," his freakishly guttural voice begins, "is how their fickle leaders make themselves look all powerful and the commoners look like herded sheep. The herding pigs at the top are even more lost than the sheep on the ground." Something in his head detracts his next words. "Composer, sir. Why yes we have. We will."
"Why might the Composer wish to create more dimensional interaction with Otherside?"
"His great mysterious mind works far beyond even what the great machines are capable of perceiving, although I have given it some thought." They walk towards the Great Divide, the other world reflecting in their eyes. "But what I'm certain of is that when both worlds collide, there will surely be fireworks with more bang than Fat Man and Little Boy."
And so the ghosts come out of the machine.
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