Gwenhuvere@aol.com wrote:

And, yes, Jonathon does seem very cliche, doesn't
he?

Very.  And, what do we do we cliches?

<camera pans up to the Satellite Of "Can't We Just Be Friends?">

Roll: <sweatdrops>
Panda-Genma: <holds up a sign with a picture of a sweatdrop>
Key: Key does not understand.  Why are you crying?

Part1: (no title)

P-G: [Another TWT?]
Key: Key would not call the story a twit before it begins.
Roll: He meant, "Title?  What Title?"

Iron.

Blood.

Pain.

Death.

Key: Just another day.  Key wishes Key could escape her rut.
P-G & Roll: <back away from Key slightly>

Jonathon's hands clutch convulsively at the bed sheets, sweat streams from
him, as he lies, gasping for breath, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Roll: MIIIIILK!
P-G: [I don't get it.]
Roll: Be glad.

He shivers, and tears join the trails of sweat running down his face.  A
single word is whispered, barely audible in the darkness.

P-G: [Rosebud...]
Roll: Acme...
Key: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious...

"again."

Key: Supercalifrag-
Roll: He didn't mean you, Key.

Groaning, he rises unsteadily to his feet, staggering towards the bathroom.
Running a hand through his damp hair, he glances at his reflection.

P-G: [Lookin' good!]

"God I look awful."

P-G: [Well, I was close.]
Roll: How does that count as close?
P-G: [Only one 'o' away from 'God'.]

He winces away from his mirror-twin and reaches for the
shower door.  "But, then I always do after.."  He sighs again, almost a sob as
the hot water lashes down.

P-G: [So, what does he change into?  Bets, ladies?]
Key: Not everyone has a Jusenkyo curse.
Roll: Oh, I don't know.  Maybe he'll turn into Oscar.
P-G: <whaps Roll with sign>  [Don't scare an old man like that!]

The stinging stream sweeps away both sweat and
tears, and the fog of his uneasy sleep fades into memory, leaving only a
nervous energy, the need to move, to run, jump, to do SOMETHING.

Roll: The need to get us down from here?
P-G: [I wish.]
Key: Just relax.  Key has already set this satellite's autopilot.  It
    will take some time to land.
P-G: [You did?!?  You mean, we won't be trapped up here?]
Key: Key did.  Key and Roll should be repairable after the crash.
P-G: [WHAT???  But, what about me?]
Key: Key is joking.  This satellite is not set to leave orbit.  Did Key
    make a good joke?

"Well," he growls in irritation, "It's not like I'll be getting anymore sleep
tonight."

P-G: [You can say that again.  Thank goodness this form doesn't need my
    heart medication.]

With a growing anger, he strides through the chill seeming bedroom, dressing
in a barely controlled, ineffectual, and undirected rage.

P-G: [You wouldn't happen to be related to Akane, would you?]

The door slams
behind him, the stairs rush by three at a time, and the cold winter air
welcomes him into its chilly embrace as he runs into the night.

Roll: <stares intently>
Key: What is Roll looking for?
Roll: Ice Man's here.  I'm sure of it.

He wanders, his feet going where they will.  The anger bleeds away as the
pavement passes under his feet.  Hours pass in the neon jungle.

P-G: [John, John, John of the jungle.  Watch out for that...]
Roll: Tree?
P-G: [Streetlamp.]

He moves at a
constant jog, darting through the thin groups of late night denizens with a
practiced ease.

Roll: ...and carefully not getting any blood on him.
Key: Key thinks Roll was affected by her role in a fighting video game.
P-G: [They're not all Mortal Kombat, Key.  I've been in a few myself.
    Do I look like a murderer to you?]
Key: <looks closely at Genma>  Yes.
P-G: [That was...my evil twin!  Honest!  These paws have only killed
    bamboo.]
Roll: ...and Kasumi's feasts, and an Amazon prize banquet, and let's
    not forget all those fanfics...

His mind fades back into the joy of exertion, ignoring the
passing world.

Roll: Only to get sideswiped and lose his shirt when the world pressed
    charges.

Stretch, breath, faster, move, freedom, run, move, breath..

P-G: [Duck!  Dodge!  Parry!  Thrust!]  <sign whaps him of its own
    accord>

He stops.

Roll: Red light.
Key: Red light district?  Then Key can admit Key's true feelings for...
P-G: [That's far enough.  This isn't a lemon, you know.]

He can smell the dew-wet grass under his feet; the first hint of false-dawn is
lighting the horizon.  He smiles, breathing in the scent of life around him.

Key: ...only to keep it inside, depriving the flowers of life.

Falling back into the dampness of the lawn, he stares at the vanishing stars.

P-G: [Star light, star bright, first star I don't see tonight...]

He is alive, and surrounded by life, and this brings him a strange,
inexplicable joy..

Roll: ...and as he headed for the light, he realized he had died and
    this fic was over.
P-G: [Nice try.]

Fear and pain invade the joyous growth around him, splitting the early morn
calm.

Key: He mourned the calm?
Roll: I think the author was waxing poetic for 'morning calm'.
P-G: [That's splitting calms...]
Roll: <rolls eyes>

Instantly Jonathon moves, barreling through

P-G: [Not a word, Roll!]

the thin growth of the City
Park, calm being flooded under a storm of anger.  The scream fades, but he
continues to run, fighting his rage every step of the way.

Roll: Take that, Rage!  Have at you, Anger!  Fall before me, Angst!

"I.  Will.  Not!  IwillNot!   Iwillnotiwillnotiwillnot!"

P-G: [Will.]
Roll: Will not.
P-G: [Will.]
Roll: Will not.
P-G: [Will not.]
Roll: Will.
P-G: [ ^_- ]

He bursts into the clearing.  And before him, he sees dream made real.

P-G: [Ranma and Akane finally married?]
Roll: That's *your* dream.
P-G: [Oh.  But, it's such a good dream...]
Roll: Really?  Then why are there so many fics where he chooses someone
    else?

"I will."

Roll: I Roll.
P-G: [I Genma.]
Key: Key is Key.
Roll: Hey, I thought his name was Johnathan?

He lets the anger go.

P-G: [Let go, Luke.  Use the force.]

The first man- no, boy- screams as Jonathon's three rapid-fire strikes turn
the vertebrae of his lower back into powder.

P-G: [I didn't mean like that!]

The second turns, but the moments notice is far from enough.  His body thumps
dully against the earth, breastbone shattered, and fragmented ribs shredding
into his lungs with every breath.

Roll: So, *now* is he going through them?

The third is on his knees between the woman's legs.

Key: Key has seen no women in the fic so far.  Johnathan is male, as
    have Johnathan's victims.  
P-G: [Hey, maybe Ranma is in here after all.]
Roll: I think the author meant the person who was screaming.  It's not
    very clear, though.

Jonathon's flying kick
throws him across the small clearing, his skull making a wet crunching sound
as it slams against a tree trunk

Roll: Missed a period.
P-G: [You're a robot.  Robot's don't have periods...do they?]
Key: Genma said this was not a lemon.

The fourth knows something about unarmed combat, throwing a halfway decent
roundhouse kick.  His slight skill earns him a shattered kneecap, fractured
hip, and splintered femur.

P-G: [Hip bone's connected to the leg bone, leg bone's connected to
    the...]

And the fifth?

Roll: Turns out to be a superhero in disguise, taking down Johnathan and
    restoring everyone with a touch of his hands?
P-G: [I plead the fifth!]

Gunfire crashes, six sharp reports momentarily drowning out the screams and
moans of this boy's former companions.

Roll: Book reports due next Monday.
P-G: [Once an academic, always an acadmic?]
Roll: Hey, just because I help Professor Light with his research...

The boy is a bad shot.

P-G: [Three words: Saotome Secret Technique.]
Roll: Run away?
P-G: [You catch on quickly, my dear.]

Taking the gun, Jonathon leaves this foolish would-be gunslinger with a pair
of mangled hands, a broken arm, and fractured ribs.

Key: But at least he did not kill them.

Gasping, for breath, he stares down upon the five.  KILL THEM!  His rage
screams, burning underneath the surface.  KILL THEM!

Roll: Yet.

Slowly he forces his body to take slow, rhythmic breaths, forcing the searing
wall of anger back.

Roll: Take that, Rage!  Have at-
P-G: [Once is funny.  Twice isn't.]

"I am in control."  He whispers.

Key: Yes...
P-G: [...sure...]
Roll: ...riiight.

But he knows this is a lie.

P-G: [Give that man a ci-gar!]
Roll: So he can get lung cancer and die?  Not a bad idea...

He sags, not from any physical exhaustion, but from the emotional war raging
within.  A war he is losing.  It scares him.

Roll: MIIIIIILK!
P-G: [I'm worried about you, you know.]

"damn."

Roll: My sentiments exactly.  You, caring about anyone other than
    yourself?
P-G: [The fanfics do me no justice.]

He falls to his knees.

"damn."

Key: Johnathan is in a position for prayer, and saying 'damn'?
Roll: <shrugs>  In his case, it's appropriate.

No, he realizes, no self-pity.  Not now, help these ones first.

Roll: <hollow voice>  FINISH THEM!
P-G: [Johnathan wins.  Angstality.]

Scrambling to his feet, he stumbles to the woman's side.  She cowers away from
him, clutching at her torn clothing.  He stretches forth his hand, words of
support upon the tip of his tongue.

Roll: And her tongue on the tip of his-
P-G: <whaps Rolls again>  [Ahem.]

She faints.

Roll: Good idea.  See you after the fic.  <shuts down>
P-G: [Uh-uh.  If I've gotta watch this, so have you.]  <finds and paws
    Roll's on switch>

With a practiced touch, he carefully assesses her injuries.  He smiles as his
hand encounters the solid plastic of a cellular phone.

P-G: [And there are no pay phones anywhere in the park?]

The call is short.  Medical help is dispatched.  It will arrive in moments the
jaded operator assures him.  Paramedics arrive,  the police are just minutes
behind.  Jonathon brushes a hand along the blond woman's worry-lined cheek as
they load her unconscious form into the ambulance.

Roll: Most medics wouldn't let anyone touch their patients, unless they
    were a relative.  Also, there should only be one space after
    "arrive,".
P-G: [Nit picking, are we?]
Roll: So I'm a perfectionist.

Dream was not made reality.

It was not Her.  (You failed her).

Roll: I've gotta try that double voice trick sometime.
P-G: [Use it when dramatically approprite.  (Not now.)]
Roll: <pouts>  I'd almost call that cheating.

She's gone.  (and it's your fault).

Roll: We're gone?
P-G: [Almost.  Just a few more lines.]

Damn them.  (and damn you too).

The dawn comes.

Key: Key almost thought that said, "The damn comes."

And the waiting begins.

Roll: Waiting for Minako?  Sorry, wrong series.

Again.

P-G: [See?  That wasn't too bad.  So, what did you think?]
Roll: Too heavy on the angst for my tastes, but at least Johnathan *had*
    some character.
Key: Key agrees.  Johnathan seems one dimensional, but scenes like this
    are often used to stress one emotion.  It might fit in as part of a
    larger story.
P-G: [So, what do you think, sir?]