Miashara wrote:
Chapter 5
The Senshi were gathered in a small circle on the roof of a building.
It wasn't that big a building but the roof was completely exposed. A
Senshi suit, while it granted magical protection and nicely displayed
their legs and busts without making their butts look fat, did not offer
much protection against a cold wind. As a result, all five of the sailor
suited heroines were freezing their...were very cold.
They didn't seem cold while wandering in the Arctic...
They had left the NDF building earlier in some haste. They were not
retreating, oh no, not them, but they had decided that matters were now
in better hands. That newcomer had immediately engaged the attacker and
he seemed quite capable of taking care of himself. Also, since guns
weren't exactly their thing, they had decided to leave it in his capable
hands and regroup elsewhere.
Luna and Artemis, always there for the councils, had arrived and the
discussion was running fast and furious.
"Well. There was certainly nothing like this in the Silver Millenium I
remember!" Luna, while being a cat and speaking Japanese, managed to
convey a scandalized British accent.
I don't much like that sentence.
"That answers one question." Mars had a resigned voice. She was also
wishing really hard that the sailor suit had a anti-pain spell worked in
somewhere. In that fight she had caught a few shots in the arm and while
the wound had closed and would be healed in a few hours, it hurt bad.
"What do we do about it?" Moon asked.
"We blow it to bits!" Jupiter seemed to be both harboring a grudge and
looking for a fight.
"We can't jut leave it! We fight evil and that strikes me pretty firmly
"just"
of evil. I'm with Jupiter." Venus spoke with passion and conviction. She
was ready to dive gloriously into battle with the vicious foe.
"We need a plan or you'll die horrible deaths." Artemis commented. He
had remained silent in thought.
"Plans are good." Venus liked plans. Good things, plans were.
Muffin the Vampire Baker: Planningness is in the air, Biles!
Inside the NDF build, there was the great grandmother of a shoot out
under way. Cyanide was doing all sorts of crazy acrobatics and using
every weapon he could get his hands on. The T-101 was also using a wide
variety of armament and was also fully intent on blasting little chunks
out of his opponent. Use your imagination and think about the other
fight scene's I've written. This was a dozy.
"scenes", "doozy"
Pandemonium reigned in the room holding the Great Scrying Glass.
Diamond had left a few seconds ago to answer a call of nature, (it was
collect) and as his second in command Pandemonium was trying to calm
everybody down. He was failing miserably.
With the magic viewing disk still tuned to the agent, the scene was
clearly portrayed. The agent and Cyanide were moving through the
building, discharging weapons at each other, causing all sorts of
damage. It was a wonder to some that the building had not yet fallen
down from all the damage it had taken.
Of the watchers, the level of calm was not much lower. Men and women
were running around screaming and shouting. Some were staring petrified
at the screen while others just babbled incoherently. In one corner of
the room an enterprising member of the Black Moon Family had set up a
bookie's table and chalk board and was currently taking bets. The odds
were 5:7:100000 to 1 on the agent, Cyanide, and the Senshi respectively.
This was the scene which greeted Diamond when he returned.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?" Diamond rarely yelled. Here, however, he
realized it was either yell or be unheard.
"Complete chaos?" Came a helpful comment from the back. Diamond
incinerated the wise ass.
"View the screen My Lord." It was Onyx. He stepped froward from the
"forward"
rear wall which he had been reclining against. "It appears that a new
individual has arrived. He interrupted the agent's fight with the
Senshi, allowing them to escape. It appears to be that someone has been
playing with time. It also seems that this agent is about to loose."
Onyx smiled and gestured to the Scrying glass where Cyanide had just
"scrying glass" or "Scrying Glass"
unleashed a long burst of fire.
"The T-101 will take him My Lord! That pathetic intruder is no match
for it. His folly and stupidity will be proven upon his dead body! A
curse on him and his family line!" Sodium was really getting into his
speech now and loudly proclaimed his infallibility to the world.
"Hunk-O-Dirt, isn't that your adopted nephew?" Onyx asked.
Hunk-O-Dirt was about seven foot six, weighed three fifty, and had
about three percent body fat. His magical power was vast and purely
offensive. He had an IQ of room temperature. In Celsius. For traditional
Eskimo igloos. "Yeah." There was a long silence.
"Anyway." Iridium stepped forth. "It would appear that this plan is not
so fool proof after all. In fact, it does appear that it has just
"foolproof"
failed."
Topaz, ever willing to move which ever way the wind, opened his mouth
to jump in. He closed without speaking though. He wanted to see results
first.
"Then let us observe this new development." Diamond sat and the other
four did too. Unfortunately, the other 59 did not.
"The next person who makes a noise will die. Instantly." Diamond stated
calmly.
The room was still immediately as all eyes watched the glass and all
mouths shut.
On screen, an extensive and complex combat took place. Leaping and
maneuvering, Cyanide attacked the impassive T-101. Firearms roared and
walls exploded. Cyanide's water met the agent's stone. The fight
continued like a ancient gladiatorial combat save that this one had no
end in sight.
Perhaps the most unusual thing was that in the twenty minutes of active
battle, neither one had reloaded once.
Ami looked to her left. Makoto looked quite the worse for wear this
morning. She imagined she couldn't be in such good shape herself.
Usagi's mother had made her stay home from school, something the blond
herself had not objected to in the slightest, and she was conspicuously
absent.
It was the morning after the NDF incident and none of the Senshi were
feeling good. They had survived through adrenaline, magic, and luck.
They all hoped they would fare better should they be forced to fight
again but there was a question nagging at the backs of their minds.
'Would they be so lucky next time?'
Some time later, Ami eased herself down on the grass. Opening her lunch
box, she began to eat slowly, thinking about the events of the night
before. She was deep in thought by the time, roughly ten minutes later,
that Matoko sat next to her.
"Heh, Ami. Do you think that- Ami? Ami!" It took several snaps of the
fingers an inch from the blue haired girl's face to get her attention.
"Sorry. I was thinking about last night. We have new enemies pop up
with regularity but we've never had one like this. They always used
magic and monsters to do their bidding. This one's different. I'm not
sure how we should handle the situation." Ami stated her thoughts
pensively. She was frowning slightly and images of gun wielding men
danced through her mind.
"Don't worry. We're the forces of good. We'll get him in the end."
Makoto smiled and began to eat her own lunch.
"I know. I just wish I knew how." And Ami returned to eating herself.
The forces of evil at this particular moment were reloading. The
embodiment of the forces of evil was waiting for the self regeneration
function in the tissue on it's back to finish it's job. Target 3's fire
attacks had severely damaged the outer armor/concealment layer and it
had judged attacking was currently not the best option.
The room it had taken was in a back corner of a low rent hotel. There
was a single light hanging from the ceiling, lacking any setting or
ornamentation. It swung slightly, back and forth, on the cable which
hung from the ceiling. The air reached of mold and blood, the odor
permeating everything. The forces of evil didn't acknowledge it.
What's the other force of evil?
He slumped in his chair and sighed. Sitting in a room remarkably
similar to the one is nemesis was currently occupying, Cyanide was
"his"
tired. He had sustained only mild injuries in the previous night's fire
fight and was now pondering his course of action.
"Find them I guess. Lessee. Pluto said they could be found at a local
middle school. She would be unreachable so any paradox would be
prevented." He checked clock on the wall. "They won't be out for at
least a couple of hours. Time for me to run a few errands I guess."
He rose and walked over to the door. Before walking out, he glanced in
the large mirror hanging from the wall. He was tall, being almost five
ten, and definitely big. He had lived a very active life on Nemesis and
now was quite well developed physically. His short hair was deep black,
however it lacked the blue sheen which many people possessed. Instead,
it almost glinted red in the light. His eyes were dark as well, glinting
in the light coming through the window.
It was two days later that Mokoto sat down for lunch in the presence of
two of her closest friends. They were eating under a tree as was their
wont and enjoying themselves. No mysterious gun wielding strangers had
appeared recently and the day was quiet.
Minako, the most injured of the five, had recuperated fully and was now
back at school. She had spoken with them that morning before going her
separate way. All in all, it was a day which made everyone happy to be
alive. It was much to joyous for anything horrible, violent, or mean to
"too"
happen.
Ami sat before the camera, slightly nervous but not otherwise bothered.
They had sprung the request on her earlier and now she was roped into
doing it.
The principal finished his hurried conversation with the camera man and
sat down next to her. "Thanks for doing this on such short notice. I
can't tell you how honored I am this our school got chosen for this
quick story."
Ami smiled slightly. "I'm delighted to do it. I've wanted to be on
national TV for a while, I always thought it would be fun."
The principal gave her a grin and turned to face the reporter who would
be conducting the interview.
"Ready?"
And shortly Ami made her first appearance on national TV. The footage
was broadcaster that night on the Eleven O'clock News. Almost one third
of the national watched it.
Cyanide looked up from his weapon cleaning. His eyes widened with
recognition and he fished a photo graph from his pocket. He compared it
"photograph"
to the screen for a moment. Ten seconds later, his room was empty.