[twi] Twilight VII: III The Dark Tower

[Colesign]

Sanya

{I did not expect that}

Sanya blinks at the change in his appearance, then snarls. As much as a teddy bear with a fez can snarl.

"You made one mistake, lady." He says in a Russian accent. He charges forth on his unicycle, wheels squeaking, then leaps off and conks Stephanie Meyer over the head with the seed he's holding.

"You forgot to change my characterization!!!!!"

[industrious]

John Taylor

Rip

I look down to see that thanks to the woman's changes, my white trenchcoat had gotten shredded in the crossfire. And nobody touches my trenchcoat. It can get stained, it can get all sorts of magical and technological debris on it, it can get ripped or torn. But this...this was beyond repair. And that really pissed me off.

"Shut. Up."

My voice has somehow turned from normal to extremely gravelly and deep. A stereotypical demon's voice. I test it for a moment.

"Tremble!"

Definitely a demon's voice.

And while I really want to squish her like a bug between my new claws, I am not going to give her that satisfaction. I Find my true self once more, who I truly am, and return to my normal appearance. I keep some of the muscles, though. So that I'm only slightly above average instead of below it.

"Nice try." I gasp, this time in my normal voice.

I open my gift, and exhausted as it is by my constant demands, it hurts to use it. A trickle of blood comes out from my nose, and I can hear my heart in my ears. But I'm me again.

[Gulping]

Sora, Minato, Travis

Travis and Minato groan, trying desperately to resist the warping. Travis does so by reaching deep within his Self and submersing it within Meikyo Shisui, while Minato puts the Evoker to his head and pulls the trigger, taking on the form of Messiah.

Sora, however, hasn't been seen by her yet, and he takes full advantage. Swooping up and over the others, he points the X-blade at Meyers, the weapon's tip shining with brilliant light.

"LOCK!"

A shining ray lances forth, striking Stephanie in the chest.

There's a noise like something of impossible size being shut closed, a great and mighty *clunk* sound.

The most important capability that the Keyblade possesses is the power to open or close any form of lock, physical or otherwise.

When one considers just how a word like 'lock' can be applied to metaphysical concepts, you get an idea of just how immensely powerful this ability is.

Sora has used the strange and ineffable power of the Ultimate Keyblade to literally Lock out Stephanie Meyer's reality warping powers.

This is something that a Keyblade Master with sufficient power and skill can actually do.

Sora is the single greatest Keyblade Master that has ever lived, possibly because he is actually five Keyblade Masters at once, on top of being the Champion of Kingdom Hearts and all that rot.

There's a chance that this will, in fact, work.

[Cracklord]

Unfound Door
((sparkly vampires. We're dealing with a very strange mind here))
Sanya growls and thumps her on the head, sending her flying (bears are strong) but over balancing and falling on his face. Unicycles are harder then they look. The seed doesn't do anything. It's a prison, but one she has rto be locked under or it is useless.
Travis's body changes, but he doesn't, and continues weeping about his abandonment issues and how his tough facade is all an act. Anyone who did behave that way would be obliged to destroy themselves in order to remove their DNA from the genepool.
Minato is able to shield most of his essence, but feels his powers changing, as what he is supposed to be a Messiah of is distorted by Meyer. He suddenly finds himself eager to pass tips about body image and living for yourself, rather then peace, brotherhood and understanding. It's disconcerting, as his very identity is uprooted at it's most fundamental level.
John Taylor is restored, and nearly staggers. His gift is feeling very overworked right now.
Stephanie Meyer shudders, turns her eyes to Sora, and gasps. She is unable to affect him, unable to make him anything other then he is. She's outmatched, and her power grinds to a halt, the twisted miscreations stabalizing, and undergoing no more changes.
She shudders, then seems to collapse into herself, reduced to what she was before. "EEEE!" She squeals in fear, and begins backing away.

[darkblade]

Ramirez

"This just isn't right." The wizard says dismayed to see that all of his weapons have faded away.

"I've alays wanted to try this though. Let's see how far the hack really goes. Aveda Kadvara!" the significantly less hispanic wizard says pointing his wand at the woman and launching the usually fatal green energy towards her.

****

Cass

Despite being in position to break Meyer's spine and leave her in a state much worse than her predicessor as Batgirl feels compelled to hide behind Travis who she has honestly never seen before aside from brief glimpses across the battle in Leng much less felt any attraction too that and he still smells bad.

By the time she has noticed her character change enough to fight it she's already clinging to the assasin. "I-I am so sorry I don't know what is happening to me this is not right..."

Her hands leap up to her mouth to cover it. That wasn't how Cassandra Caine talks, this is just not fiting together.

[industrious]

John Taylor

With a flourish of my fingers, I produce a salamander egg, and casually, almost absentmindedly, toss it at Meyer. It promptly envelops her in flames.

"Sorry," I mutter. However twisted the woman is, she's still human, at least on some level. And getting burnt to death is a nasty way to go. "But needs must when the devil drives."

[Gulping]

Sora

Sora advances, keeping the X-Blade pointed at Stephanie, the Champion's face contorted with righteous fury.

"That is ENOUGH. You're not even THINKING, are you? All you can do is scream and corrupt, and now you can't even do THAT! You're not dead, not alive, not anything.

You're a Real Nobody, aren't you? You never really were, and never will be.You're a freak, an abomination, anathema in the shape of a person."

Sora flicks his hand, and the Seed suddenly leaps into his grip. He sticks it into the hilt of the X-blade, and grabs the weapon with both hands.

"You are nothing. NOW ACT LIKE IT!"

An immense burst of light issues forth from the X-blade, engulfing and subsuming Meyers' being. As forcefully as it came forth, it recedes back into the weapon, sucking the author in, and imprisoning her within the Seed.

"And that's that."

[Colesign]

Sanya

{Sorry: there are some typos in your explanation of the seed: how is it supposed to work again?}

The Knight of the Cross Fez-Bear tries willing Esperacchius back into existence: as an Artifact of God, it can't be destroyed so easily.

Still, he has no innate talent to recover it. Nothing but Hope, really.

[Cracklord]

The Unfound Door
The seed will grow into a tree that will act like a tomb for her, holding her in place and preventing her from either using her talent or moving by wrapping it's roots around her. Furthermore, the tree shall last until the end of time, and is more then capable of defending itself.
Basically, you have to bury her alive (there is enough of Flagg in her that she won't die) and plant the tree over the top.
But Sora's way works as well.

Ramirez sends a stream of what looks like Green soap bubbles from the end of his terribly tacky looking wand. It's enough to make a hetrosexual man consider hanging himself, being reduced to this.
Cass finds that she sounds like a valley girl, and everyone, like, should be paying more attention to her. Totally.
She catches fire, natures own incinderies putting her up like a match. She shrieks again, flailing, but the flames do not consume her. She's not alive enough to die.
The seed begins to take sprout, and tiny shoots appear, as tendrils of roots fasten on nothing. The tree is growing, and has imprisoned Meyer inside, from which she will never escape. The tree is more then capable of defending itself, anything that can come here and kill it is a bigger threat then she ever was.
Sanya finds the sword appear in his hand, glowing softly.

[industrious]

John Taylor

"I'll..."

I can't help it. A fez-wearing bear as a Knight of the Cross. I laugh. And then try to control myself.

"I'll get you all restored. Be who you are, and what you were once more."

The Voice of the Authorities. Derived from the original Word itself. I still really don't like using it.

"You owe me one, Ramirez. It's a favor for the rest of you."

Nicodemus

He is alone in the darkness, but he doesn't mind. His eyelids are half-closed, sleepy. The noose around his neck swings back and forth, hypnotically.

"Hello God. I'm listening."

[Cracklord]

Nicodemus
Nicodemus starts as a shape appears before him, his own mirror image but for the smile and the clothes. Not the usual mirror image, but perfect down to the finest detail. It has none of the sinister qualities, none of the easy power and cruelty, none of the sardonic turn. It's genuine, kind and benevolent, and understanding. And loving. Even now, even after all this time, he loves you like a son.
"You wanted the universe." He says, and he sounds sad, as though doing this, even to you, makes him sad.
"Well I will give you everything. Here it is. Reign as you choose." Then He's gone, leaving you alone in the emptiness at the end of everything, alone for an eternity. Nothing remains, not even Anduriel that you cast aside.
You are all alone.

The Unfound Door
It spits you out, as Taylor's voice restores you. You set right what was once wrong, and mended a great evil.
But the world hasn't stopped.

[industrious]

John Taylor

I take a look at myself. My white trenchcoat's completely ruined, for one. I've got maybe two sets of chaos dice left, and nothing else; everything else must have fallen out of the pockets. I'm going to need to head to the tailor's.

Nicodemus

He sits in the darkness at the end of time, waiting for eternity. Time does not exist, so to say how long it took for him to speak once more would be impossible.

"Let there...be light."

If this was the universe, then he would rule it. The thought that he would be here alone and forever occurs, but he must try. That same will that sustained him throughout the ages demanded that he must try.

[Cracklord]

You all leave the tower, to stand in the field of Leng and look up at it once more. The Nexus of Life. The Nexus of Size.

The ship takes you home.

Flandre, Death
You never got to look at the human world to see how it had changed. You decide to finish what you started, and see what you see. And so, for the first time in a long while, you meet a new friend, a perky little Goth girl with red hair and an Ankh hanging around her neck. The two of you go exploring, giggle at things and swap stories, and at last you both go home.
It could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Dread C'Thulhu
You end the world in a dance, as the stars at long last are right. And the devastated world ends, nothing left to witness its passing but demons and the dead, all having fled it.

Kingdom Hearts
Sora awakens on a beach. White sand. Sunlight, the tang of salt, and familiar buildings, wooden, as much driftwood as bamboo, no good timber ever grew here so they had to make do with whatever they could find. On the shore... Riku? Kairi?
Could it be...
You've come home.
Leaping to your feet, you rush over to them, totally forgetting about the blade by your side, that slides forgotten into the sands...
...until it is needed again.

Planetary
It's a strange world, and only getting stranger. it would be nice to understand everything, but you expect you never will. Gordan Freeman returns, and is joined by Greed, Namine and a few others, all of whom fit right in very quickly. It's a new century, and as much a mystery to you as everyone else. Who can say what comes next?

Harry Dresden
A man is sitting at your desk,
You feel a pressure in your head, as though it's caught in an ever crushing vise. Noting your discomfort, he tosses you a charm, and the feeling recedes. He shrugs. He had that effect on a lot of people.
But not, as it would turn out, Molly, who is looking at him with wide eyes.
"The war is over. I had to kill most of the Council, I regret to say, but things will recover given time. I located the traitors. Several, of course." He sighs, adjusts his wrinkled, felt cap and looks at you with hooded eyes.
"If the council is going to survive, it needs someone it knows was not involved. Someone known to be honest, if unconventional. Someone who is not cut of the same cloth as me, in other words." He tosses you a purple stole. "Take it. Take it, or I'll disband the council and let the Day Watch move in."
Then he looks at Molly. "She's too far gone for you to save. I'll take her. We'll teach her control, and about how to live responsibly. She'll live a long time, and do no harm."

Getter Force
The ship floods with light as at long last power is restored, the sentiant force flaring within as it all returns to life. Here you are at last.

Nightside
Razor Eddie is drinking alone in the corner. He's about the only patron who is there, him and the Hitcher, a tall, green Victorian dressed man with white hair and a cockney accent. He clears off quickly though, leaving the bar empty when you arrive.
Six of you. Solomon Kane. Carlos Ramirez. Michael Carpenter. John Taylor. Eddie Riggs. And Hellboy.
He's wearing Roland's guns. They passed to him. He wasn't a gunslinger and never would be, but he was of the blood and would try to be worthy of them, until he found someone better suited. He's also wearing Amorichius over his shoulder, but those are the least of the changes. He's let his beard grow, fulling out the soul patch, and giving him a slightly wild look. The horns are still shaved down, but he seems to have grown somehow, become more then he was.
You're sitting at the same round coffee table that would be too small for a couple, let alone five of you, but you'll try to make do. You don't have much choice in the matter. He sits down, and is quiet for a moment. At long last he speaks.
"I'm done." He says at last. "Time to step up. I'm going to make a decision. I'm going to accept who I am."
He looks at you all. "My name is Anung Un Rama... Pendragon, of the Line of Arthur Eld. I break wind like everyone else." He sighs, looks into the sky for a moment, or at least the roof, then looks at you all again. "You know what this is about. We saw something. Everything. All of us. We saw the Tower, and we know the way. It can't be left like that. Can't be left for anyone to take. It needs to be protected, and I think you're all men I can count on." He lights a cigar offhandedly, as though barely aware what he is doing. "So how about it. The last order, The Knights of The Dark Tower? I'll buy a lot here in Nightside, and we can set up shop, so nothing like this ever happens again."
And above the table, the reverent none of you had noticed, the ghostly Figure of Merlin Satanspawn hovers for a moment, smiling of all things, his fathers eyes looking almost kindly, then he fades and is gone.

Field of Roses
Amongst the roses is an obelisk, dead in the center of the road that is the only way there, a tiny pin next to the tower, yet one that draws the eye just as surely. A battered Cowboy hat lies in front of it, and names are inscribed on the side that faces away from the tower, so any who approach have no option but to look at it.
It has no euology. If you didn't know them, you could never understand. But it does say a single, evocative word.
'Remember.'
No one knows who they were. But the memory remains.

Nicodemus
Nothing. You never learned to create, that was the domain of other men. You only tore down what they created to mock them, to show them how foolish it was to value anything. And here in the darkness, you find that there is nothing left to destroy.
You are totally alone.

The Circle Closes.
He woke at dawn.
He sat up and looked around himself. He was on a beach as white as bone. Above him, a ceramic sky of cloudless blue stood tall and far. Beyond him, a turquoise sea broke far out upon a reef and then came in gently, surging up and between strange boats that were
(canoes outrigger canoes)
He knew that... but how?
He got to his feet and almost fell. He was shaky. Bad off. Felt hung over.
He turned around. Green jungle seemed to leap out at his eyes, a dark forested tangle of vines and broad leaves and lush, blooming flowers that were
(as pink as a chorus girl's nipple)
He was bewildered again.
What was a chorus girl?
For that matter, what was a nipple?
A macaw screamed at the sight of him, flew away blindly, crashed into the thick bole of an old banyan tree, and fell dead at the foot of it with its legs sticking up.
(sat him on the table with his legs stickin up)
A mongoose looked at his flushed, beard-scruffy face and died of a brain embolism.
(in come sis with a spoon and a glass)
A beetle that had been trundling busily up the trunk of a nipa palm turned black and shriveled to a husk with tiny blue bolts of electricity frizzing for a moment between its antennae.
(and starts dippin gravy from its yass-yass-yass.)
Who am I?
He didn't know.
Where am I?
What did it matter?
He began to walk—stagger—toward the verge of the jungle. He was light-headed with hunger.
The sound of the surf boomed hollowly in his ears like the beat of crazy blood. His mind was as empty as the mind of a newborn child.
He was halfway to the edge of the deep green when it parted and three men came out. Then four. Then there were half a dozen.
They were brown, smooth-skinned folk.
They stared at him.
He stared back.
Things began to come.
The six men became eight. The eight became a dozen. They all held spears. They began to raise them threateningly. The man with the beardstubble on his face looked at them. He was wearing jeans and old sprung cowboy boots that fit him as snuggly as another layer of skin; nothing else. His upper body was as white as the belly of a carp and dreadfully wasted. Could have played the xylophone on his ribs if you put a mind to it, though you'd have to be stupid to try.
The spears came all the way up. Then one of the brown men—the leader—choked out one word over and over again, a word that sounded like Yun-nah!
Yep, things were coming.
Righty-O.
His name, for one thing.
He smiled…
That smile was like a red sun breaking through a black cloud. It exposed bright white teeth and amazing blazing eyes. He turned his lineless palms out to face them in the universal gesture of peace.
Before the force of that grin they were lost. The spears fell to the sand; one of them struck point-down and hung there at an angle, quivering.
“Do you speak English?”
They only looked.
“Habla espanol?”
No they didn't. They definitely did not habla f*cking espanol.
Well, it would come in time. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor Akron, Ohio, for that matter. And the place didn't matter.
The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there... and still on your feet.
“Parlez-vows franqais?”
No answer. They stared at him, fascinated.
He tried them in German, and then bellowed laughter at their stupid, sheepy faces. One of them began to sob helplessly, like a child.
They are simple folk. Primitive; simple; unlettered. But I can use them. Yes, I can use them perfectly well.
He advanced toward them, lineless palms still turned outward, still smiling. His eyes sparkled with warm and lunatic joy.
“My name is Randall Flagg,” he said in a slow, clear voice. “I have a mission.”
They stared at him, all eyes, all dismay, all fascination.
“I have come to help you.”
They began to drop on their knees and bow their heads before him, and as his dark, dark shadow fell among them, his grin widened.
“I've come to teach you how to be civilized!”
“Yun-nah!” the chief sobbed in joy and terror. And as he kissed Flagg's feet, the dark man began to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed.
Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long.
And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.

[Draxx]

Superman
You're standing in the lounge, on the Watchtower, looking up at Superman. He looks much like the equivalent in you're world did. He even has the same expression. He thinks the best of people, always trusts and wants the best for them, and so they try and be the best so as to not let him down.

"You want to join." He holds that long enough for Spiderman to begin to fear he is going to say no, then he smiles. "Spiderman, we want you to join. We're begging you to. We'll even give you a seat at the council, as the voice of the Young."

"Let me show you something."

He steers you over to a window, to look down at Earth. It's no bigger then a dinner plate from up here, blue and brown, with the white of clouds tracing interesting shapes. "See how small it is? That's the problem."

"From up here, there aren't any borders or lines, or details. Don't sweat the little things, my father used to say. Well when you spend time up here, everything starts to seem little. You even start to forget that those are real people down there, with real problems. Little problems that are too big for them. It's easy to be so caught up in the fate of the universe, you forget about the rest."

He looks at you. He sees Peter Parker, not Spiderman, his eyes look right through the costume. "You're an anchor. You'll keep us grounded, and help us remember we're people as well as supers. I'm glad to have you."

Then his eyes twinkle. "By the way, I happen to know a reporter who needs a camera man, and Mary Jane let it slip you used to take pictures for a small paper..."

Green Arrow
He smiles. "I know what you mean." He replies, mask twitching. "Now, public relations can wait. I'm going to get some sleep."

Thanos
He waits, still at Leng, as long as he has to. One way or another, he'll be there for her when she returns. One way or another.

[industrious]

John Taylor

"I'm not one for joining clubs."

I wasn't. I tried to live my life untied and unfettered by anything save my own morality. I was John Taylor, the hard man, the one anyone with a problem could come and try to find an answer for. I'd tell them the truth, find their answer, and they'd hate me for it, but I'd know that I'd done the right thing.

But that part of me was slowly fading away, no matter how hard I clung to it. I was the Voice of the Authorities now, responsible for keeping order within the Nightside. I had damned my soul and shot a dear friend--I wasn't going to work for forgiveness; doing the right thing was enough. Forgiveness was extra.

My trenchcoat was torn and tattered, and I had managed to salvage only two things from it. A pair of chaos dice, and a ring. I'd repair the coat, and hopefully, give the ring. Things were changing. And if I clung to the tattered garment instead of getting a new one, I'd be a bloody idiot. That part of my life was over, though I'd carry it with me forever. I had to move on. Despite my desire not to.

"I'm not one for joining clubs. But this is necessary. I'm in, as long as you'll have me."

It's always three in the morning in the Nightside, and the dawn never comes. The sky is always dark and black and starless, and the moon is always full and terribly large. But the world beneath is always changing, and you can never stop, not until you're dead. So I sit down on the chair, and say my piece, and pledge to join Hellboy's order. Because there's work to be done. And you can't trust anyone but yourself to do it.

Green Lantern Corps

Bruce Wayne looked over the reorganized Corps. The battle for reality had already happened, and they had done nothing but squabble among themselves. So he had stepped in, and changed it. The Guardians had, in time, bowed to his will. They knew the forbidden prophecies. And thus, they realized that this would prevent them.

Seven Corps remained, but the Guardians, minds reeling from shock at the fractures that the Event had caused, had agreed to his plan. A radical idea that would change the Corps forever.

So he stands at the podium, and looks at the 3600 members of the Green Lantern Corps. And clearing his throat, begins his speech.

"For too long, we have been taught to suppress our emotions, to rely on willpower alone to achieve our ends. And we have done so, and as a result, the Green Lantern Corps has flourished throughout the eons of our history. But here, and now, in the aftermath of the greatest threat to the safety of our universe, we must realize our own shortcomings. We can no longer attempt to suppress our feelings, for they are both strength and weakness. To deny our natures is to deny ourselves, and to act as we are not is to cheapen and divide us. We must work to understand them, to use them in the name of justice, and as such create a better universe. Let us raise our rings, then-proudly, and recite our oath. And let evil tremble, for the Green Lantern Corps has doubled in strength this day!"

In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil's might,
Beware my power... Green Lantern's light!

And the yellow ring on his left hand, and the green on his right glowed as they recharged from the Central Battery. As did the yellow and green that Jack T Chance wore. And the violet and green of Katma Tui. And the blue and green on Rayner. And the red and green of Kilowog. And the...

Every Lantern would have two rings, now.

The Authority

There are very few rituals in the Authority. Each of them, while a team and a family, knows how much a loner-or a socialite the others are. Hazing is unheard of. Speeches are rare, and only when morale is low. There is no need to talk of Earth, of boarders, of humanity. Because you know about that when you sign up. It's why people joined. To make a difference.

But there is one ritual, a phrase spoken to all new members. A phrase that once echoed over ten years ago through every television and radio station mankind had to offer.

Think for yourself, and question authority. And if you can think for yourself, what do you need authority for?

And Jenny Sparks, after a century of pondering that question, of churning it in her subconscious mind with every action she took, provided the answer.

To make a world worth living in.

[The Shoveler]

Vash
He's back at Gunsmoke, the dead planet a mere wasteland. He needs not water or food, but he does need to find something he's lost. Something precious to him. The friends he left behind on his search to make things better.
He'd finally returned, wandering the desert to look for those he loved. His journey was a mess, with him ending up having solved nothing. However, in the many battles he fought for the survival of everything, he learned something. No matter how evil someone or something is, they have a story too. They were once something greater and then they either fell or decided to become what they were. Sure, most chose to become monsters or were born that way, but others were created, molded into what they hated the most.
Humanity could be saved from this post-apocalyptic world of his. He'd show them a new homeworld. He'd introduce them to Earth.

Yukari
She smiles as she sees the people coming out.
"Ok, Hellboy. I'll let you take the little one for a while. But eventually she shall return to Gensokyo eventually. I never forget one of my own."
And with that she opens a boundary, offering a path for any who needs a way back home.

When everyone who needed her help got through, she decided to return to her home, going back through time so no one notices her absence. Ran and Chen are lively as ever, Ran doing the work and Chen doing cat things. She occasionally wakes to bug Reimu or the others of Gensokyo, and one day she will decide to search for her lost sheep. Her Gensokyo was going to be a lovely one, with no more evil penetrating it's barriers. However, new arrivals tend to cause some chaos before they get taught their place.

[doliest]

Death
She smiled at the little girl-maybe she still had a purpose. Maybe she still could do good-she'd wanted to cross that border at long last, she'd wanted to, if she was lucky, see her brothers and wait for the rest. But she had her current family. Thanos. A little girl. She still had things to do-

And then she screamed.

Dracula
He was pulled from the beyond he always went to after his defeats. The sleep as his power returned. But it hadn't even begun to return when he was pulled into a decrepit alleyway. His cloak tattered, his body torn. A cloaked woman standing over him, "Hello, Vampire King. Satanic Heir. Leader of the Three Courts. Your time has waned." A single bullet rips into his face, a weak grin on it, "Mine will soon begin." His powers seep away, not Beyond but to Her.

Michael
Michael sighs, "I was to retire. I have a family to take care of. A daughter to help....but I must help." He brings the sword onto the table, a sword he still didn't understand, a gift from Death herself-a blade that had slain the Saint of Killers in one blow-"And as long as I hold this sword, I can help."

[Colesign]

Sanya

And on a rooftop in Okinawa, Sanya confronts a Demon with razor-sharp hair tendrils, hands outspread.

"And so your father glimpsed the Eternal Night at the end of the universe, and the face of infinity, what possibly...could be called God."

Sanya hesitates at the last remark, and Deirdre giggles.

"Awww. Has the poor little Knight lost his lack of faith? How sad?"

"Your father's trapped at the end of time, forever and ever!" Sanya replies with annoyance. "I thought you should know: I thought that he would have wanted you to know as well."

"How...noble of you." Deirdre says with bitterness, her two sets of eyes staring at Sanya, and the razor sharp strips of wire that make up her hair flitting back and forth.

"Isn't noble supposed to be a good thing?" Sanya retorts. He takes a slow step forward, holding out his empty hands.

"You're the last Denarian, Deirdre. You're not the wave of the future or the harbinger of the apocalypse anymore. You're just...one more monster. But it doesn't have to be like this. Give up the coin. Live a free life. Live the life your father could never give you."

Deirdre falls silent and goes still.

"Please." Sanya replies.

After the longest moment, Deirdre shudders. Her form warps and writhes, then shrinks down into a human form, that of a adolescent girl wearing filthy jeans and a T-shirt. A girl that's weeping, hands buried in her face

"It'll be alright..." Sanya says in gentle dignity.

"Yes." Deirdre replies, pulling a gun out behind her waistband and shooting Sanya in the head. Blood spurts out and the Knight of the Cross barely has any time to assume an expression of surprise before slumping to the ground.

Deirdre spits on his body once, then says with a smirk. "Feeling better already."

She turns around to go, and takes a few steps.

A sigh. "So that's how it's going to be."

She hears footsteps, and turns around just in time to receive a knuckle sandwich to the face, knocking her across the gravel. She scrambles to her feet and spits out a bit of blood, looking up in shock.

Sanya strides forward, the wound in his head closing up, ejecting the deformed bullet as a last bit of contempt. He draws Esperacchius with one hand, and the sword of Hope's light burns away the darkness around him.

"Yo, Deirdre." He says in a wry tone of voice. "I didn't hear no bell."

Vin

There is peace, and light, and wisdom. Vin floats amongst it, speaking to her beloved friends.

"That was...kind of humiliating." Vin replied. "You think I would have retained enough of my old paranoia to see that sucker punch coming."

"Yet you made a difference in the end: without you, Nicodemus couldn't have been defeated, and the Meyer sealed away." the Scholar replied gently.

"I know. *sigh* Still, a do-over would be nice."

"Be careful what you wish for." Kelsier replied. "Eternal reincarnations can really bite."

Solomon Kane

A Pilgrim's lot is never to have a home, save the earth his feet trod, or the road that stretches into the distance. Solomon Kane, the Puritan Avenger wanders again.

He wanders up the great rivers, then down again. He wanders to an lonely orphanage in Ireland to bring ill-tidings to a group of innocent children, brings what comfort he can, then wanders off again. He strides through an Antarctic wilderness, thrashing a cult tampering with an alien temple they don't quite understand.

Then one day, while walking through a familiar town covered in mist and surrounded by tall coniferous trees, he comes across a young woman slumped against a building wall, crying.

"What troubles you so, good woman?" Solomon Kane asks in a questioning tone of voice.

"I.....It's gone. That horrible, horrible woman! She was in my head, yanking on my thoughts, shoving her feelings in, moving me around like a puppet. I became...I became...something that wasn't me! And now she's gone, and I still don't know who I am!"

Solomon leans down and lays a hand on the woman's arm. "There, there, dear maiden. You can find out. You have your whole life to find that out. Tell me, what's your favorite food?"

There's a moment of silence. "A cheeseburger. With blue cheese and bacon." The woman finally says. "Although I'll never be able to digest one again, because of my Vampirism." A pause. "****. When did I become a vampire? Am I a monster now?"

Solomon extends the hand that doesn't hold his staff and helps the girl to her feet. "If it's any comfort, if you become a monster I'll make sure to slay you before you can harm the innocent."

The brown haired girl, whose skin is pale and gaunt, but not smooth as marble or sparkly, stares at him, then chuckles. "That helps. That...that's actually a load of of my mind."

Solomon doffs his hat and bows. "Glad I could help, milady."

[AnimeKid]

Yoshimori

Well he didn't find the ninjas that he was supposed to, but he did help save reality! that had to count for something in grandpa's books right? Eh probably not. Oh well time to go home and get chewed out, again.

KM

In the end she never was able to return. At least not yet. She would have to wait until the time that shion was from came around again. Until then, well being a super hero didn't sound so bad.

Fayt

Falling, falling, and falling that was the sensation he was feeling. The keyblade lazily pulling him along thorugh a empty black space. He felt alone, incomplete, and also a little sad. He was at a crossroads with no where to go. In the end he had one wish. 'I wish I had a friend or two right now'. As if it were a genie the keyblade suddenly pulls him through space at breakneck speeds towards a simple little island with many people his age playing on it and goofing off. To them he is a twinkle in the distance. That is until he violently crashes into the island sand. When the inhabitants of Destiny Islands come to check the landing site they will find a new and loyal friend to add to thier ranks. As for Sora, Riku, and Kairi they will find a new ally against the forces of darkness.

[Gulping]

Eddie Riggs

Eddie just shrugs. "I'm in. It's not like I was doing anything else anyway." He idly strums the strings of his guitar, thinking about what he's going to do next.

"Just pick out a building for an HQ. It doesn't really matter which one it is; I can make it into whatever we need it to be." He smiles, and takes another swig from his pint.

Minato and Naoki

The ringing of the bells announces the beginning of another school year at Gekkoukan High School. Uniformed students swarm into the Kirijo Corporation's private place of learning, their minds ready and waiting for new experiences.

If you were capable of overhearing every word of the frantic orgy of conversation going on within this mass of young men and women, your attention would almost inevitably be drawn towards two students in particular. A pair of young men in their last year at the facility, although for one of them, that wasn't quite true...

"S**t. Seriously, Arisato? I haven't been in high school for like... I don't even KNOW anymore."

"Would you prefer to just wander the corridors of Amala as a powerless mortal, instead?"

"No, I'd prefer to be at that sandwich shop. Unless it was an illusion of some sort. I don't actually try to think about it very hard. It's bad for you to do that kind of thing in the Network."

"Just follow my lead, alright? You showed me your terrifying, dangerous hellscape, and now it's my turn. Right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Naoki groans. "I just wish I could still use Magatama. I feel so... small without it."

"You'll just have to get used to it, then. Either that, or figure out how to manifest a Persona like I do." Minato smirks as he turns towards the sulking ex-Demi-Fiend.

"Just you wait, prick. I'll show you a frickin' Persona, and it'll be way f**king better than anything you've got. Just watch."

"Whatever, we've got a class to get to. Are you ready, Kashima?"

"No."

"Too bad."

And so, the teenagers who had fought against impossible opponents and accomplished inconceivable feats broke into a run, dodging around the forms of other students as they tried to ensure that they wouldn't be late on the first day of school.

It's a bright, sunny day in Iwatodai, Japan, and class starts in five minutes.

Travis

Travis, not having anything better to do with his life, ended up joining the Authority. He actually applied to the Justice League as well, but after they did a background check on him...

Yeah, you get the picture.

So, in between the various, manifold crises that the Authority deals with almost daily, he spends his days up in the Carrier, playing videogames, watching anime, riding the Schpeltiger (his motorcycle, remember?) through really really long hallways that nobody else uses just because he can, and practicing his swordsmanship and meditative techniques.

The action's not exactly what he's accustomed to, being significantly less absurd, but it's a good life for the Crownless King of Assassins.

Also, he doesn't have to pay rent or utilities, and Angie doesn't make him pay absurdly inflated prices for technical service, which is great.

Yes, life is good for Travis Touchdown. Weird.

Ryoma

The Black Getter blasts through the blackness of space, a demonic phantom running through the stellar wind. Hayato eventually got free from the L-Sama's clutches, and when he heard the mission report from Benkei and Ryoma, the Commander of Getter Forces shot the latter in the face several times.

It didn't actually damage Ryoma or anything, but it hurt like nothing else does.

Ultimately, however, the mission WAS a success; the multiverse was saved, the Crimson King and his flunkies were destroyed, the Heartless were beat back into the abyss, and things were finally getting back on track, cosmically speaking.

As such, there was nothing really left for Getter's armies to do here. So they left, leaving behind no trace of their presence except for memories and corpses; two things that nobody involved really wanted to bother with.

However, somewhere in the infinity of Existence, far beyond the domains of Men, Gods, and Those Beyond, there is always another crisis, another desperate struggle against Evil and Oblivion.

Nagare Ryoma, herald of Getter, now flies towards one of these crises, aiming to set things right though liberal application of violence.

But that is another story...

Scott Pilgrim

Scott returned to Toronto, but couldn't stay. Ramona, the light of his life, who he had presumed had managed to get back home through Subspace, was still missing. Nobody knew where she was, it was as though she had been abducted by aliens or something.

Which is actually pretty close to what happened, although it wasn't intentional.

Ramona had actually been hiding within the depths of Scott's subconscious mind since the Concert. Being in the depths of his psyche gave her both safety and comfort, and allowed her to stay close to Scott as he proceeded through his own adventure.

Then Dream locked Scott out of the Dreaming for questioning his judgment (which is s**t). This had the unintended side effect of imprisoning Ramona until Scott's death (which would kill her as well).

Scott doesn't actually KNOW about this, but there are ways to find out.

Such as the drawn out, agonized deaths of his family from sleep deprivation, something that Ramona and being a Rider somehow protect him from.

As for when he DOES, he still has the power of Kamen Rider Todoroki, as well as a little present that Naoki gave him before Eddie's Divine Backstage collapsed.

After all, the third game has to top the sequel somehow, right?

The Stig

At long last, this little side-trip is over. You've made your farewells to your allies, wished them luck in their future endeavors, and blasted off, streaking out beyond the heavens, into the space Between.

This has only been one adventure. One mission. You have had many before this, and many are still to come.

This is what you do.

This is who you are.

Forever.

Wherever.

For even if there is no God or Buddha,

There is always
KAMEN RIDER: THE STIG

ETERNAL!

[darkblade]

Dresden

He just looked the man in the eye and let the soul gaze linger. He didn't much care about what the man saw only that he would show the man what he had seen. When the soulgaze ended at last he said only one thing, "Get out of my office."

With that he drew the staff from under his desk. It wasn't his normal staff carved from the lightning struck tree at Ebeneezer McCoy's farm this staff was black as the night itself and tainted by darkness, just how the council liked it. Harry Dresden was the heir to the Blackstaff and with his Grandfather gone it was rightfully his now. He never got a chance to use it though, no sooner than he raised the sword did his chest explode. The blood rained down upon the Daywatch agent and myself alike. It wouldn't be for months before I would discover that when he was off trying to save me Thomas had been captured by the Red Court and used in a Bloodline Curse to wipe out the not only Harry but the entire Raith Family. All I saw then was an oppurtunity. Snatching the coin that fell from my dead master's hand and the staff from his hands I turned it upon the agent of Daywatch and bent him to my will.

The White Council was no more, neither were the Denarians. I, Molly Carpender knew from that moment that it was my destiny to change the fate of the world to save it from itself.

***

Ramirez

"It really should be Harry here not me." The young former Warden says looking over the other chosen Knights in dismay. Harry was his hero, Harry was the hero of a lot of young Wizards. He represented everything that the Council was supposed to be without getting bogged down with it's politics. The politics that in the end doomed both of them.

"I'll do everything I can to help though." He says with a smile as he passes a manela folder to John Taylor.

"Before he died Harry pieced together what happened in Scotland. In your place I probably would have done the same. Here's an offical pardon by signed by the last two Wardens. It should be enough to Accords shield you if Empress Blackstaff comes gunning for you." Empress Blackstaff was some new kid trying to rally the remains of the White Council into some kind of Britanian order. Ramirez didn't trust her but far too many did to let her pass by without notice.

"Now I'm late for my other job. Give me a call later when you got the logistics worked out." Carlos says throughing on his new badge of honour. It wasn't a Grey Cloak like he wore as a Warden but it did have the same musty colour to hounor those who fell wearing them. Instead it was an enchanted leather duster reinforced by some chainmail forged lovingly by Michael's wife Charity. Stiched onto the back was a large logo that read JLA.

"J'onn one to beam." And with that the Warden, the JLA's newest recruit returns to the Watchtower.

***

Sequel Hook

There once was a man who said that when everyone is super no one would be and in a way he was right. No one knows if Doom intended it or not but as the hordered technologies of Latveria and the Four were released to the public over time they became common place and no longer the were the superheroes needed. When your standard beat cop has a couple hundred pounds of cyberwear even the most fierce supervillians no longer seem all that impressive.

Couple that with the end of the magical secrecy when the Red Court started battling the remains of the White Court in the open and The Holy Britanian Order destroyed Day/Nightwatch and the Hellsing Organization on the evening news it's hard to keep things secret.

The age of heroes has ended. So begins an age of crime corruption and the loss of humanity. So begins Twilight VIII: Future Imperfect.



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