LNH: Flame Wars Final: Second Phase #7
Andrew Perron
pwerdna at gmail.com
Sun Jun 9 21:08:19 PDT 2013
Literary Impossible and Prehistoric Productions present...
- --------------------------------- -------------------------------- -
| ^ ^ ^ ^ FLAME ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ WARS ^ ^ ^ ^ |
| ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ |
| FFFFFFF IIIIIII NN NN AAAA LL |
SECOND | FF III NNN NN AA AA LL | NUMBER
PHASE | FFFFFF III NNNN NN AAAAAAAA LL | SEVEN
| FF III NN NNNN AA AA LLLLLLL |
| FF IIIIIII NN NNN AA AA LLLLLLL |
- --------------------------------- -------------------------------- -
The flight.thingee shook as it arced at supersonic speeds over the
Paci.fanfic Ocean.
"We're losing structural integrity!" shouted Francis Bacon Lass,
staring at the readouts. "That thing's tearing the wing apart!"
"Forcefields have kicked in!" shouted Haiku Gorilla.
Protection, but only a
robin's eggshell thick!"
In Casey's mind, sirens were wailing. He felt sluggish. "What... what's
going on..."
"The beginning of the end," said Irony Man, extending a gun and
pointing it right through the hull. "Or, based on perspective, the end
of the second act." She narrowed her eyes and pulled the trigger.
Neither solid projectile nor energy beam shot from the barrel, but
outside there was an enraged howl.
"He's attacking us somehow," said Contraption Man, tending to Anal-
Retentive Archive Kid. "Mister 9."
"How!?" said Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy, standing next to the Messiah's
parents, trying to assume a defensive pose in every direction at once.
"He needs a body!"
Irony Man's gaze tracked through the shell of the flight.thingee. "The
Serious Business."
"The greater threat you told us about offscreen?" said Cheesecake-Eater
Lad, hovering near the navigational controls.
"Indeed. It is manifesting, as the Serious Businessmen."
"They're screaming..." said Casey. Suddenly, a horrendous screech of
rending metal echoed through the flight.thingee.
"He's tearing out the landing gear!" shouted Francis Bacon Lass.
Irony Man swiveled and pointed the gun straight down, firing once,
twice, three times a load of psychic charge. There was a great shout of
pain that rapidly dropped off.
"The danger has passed," reported Haiku Gorilla,
"young robin fallen from nest,
but we cannot land."
"Net.ropolis is on the west coast this week!" said Cheesecake-Eater
Lad. "We're coming up on it fast!"
Irony Man's eyes went distant for a moment. She called out, "Enter
landing coordinates at 227 West Broad Street and brace for impact."
"Of course!" said Contraption Man. "The Biggest Foam Rubber Cube in the
World!" A tourist attraction, it had been formed when the Mattress
Queen had goofed while setting up in an old abandoned factory and had
foiled her own plan before the LNH even got there.
Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy and Francis Bacon Lass strapped the still-
comfortably-napping Messiah and her parents into protective webbing,
then hooked themselves in on either side. Contraption Man took care of
ARAK, and Haiku Gorilla helped Casey stumble into a seat. Cheesecake-
Eater Lad punched in the coordinates and strapped in. And Irony Man sat
down at the controls.
"Uh," said Francis Bacon Lass, "are you...?"
"Inertial dampeners," said Irony Man. "Braking in three, two, one."
Thrusters fired, and G-forces pressed against their bodies. The Messiah
yawned, shifted, and turned over. Casey swallowed, and his ears popped.
The flight.thingee shed momentum as fast as it could until--
TH-BOI-OI-OI-OING! The flight.thingee plowed into the cube; it
compressed, then snapped back, bouncing them into the air and back down
until the undulating waves of energy stilled.
All was silent for a moment. Then: "All clear," Irony Man called. They
shook themselves and climbed out of the webbing. Casey's headache
hadn't gone, but it had eased until it was bearable, a continuous
shrill scream in the back of his head.
"We have to make it to LNHQ," said Irony Man.
"But we're all the way out in the suburbs," commented Francis Bacon
Lass.
"Indeed. We shall have to take..."
Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy gasped. "No!"
"...PUBLIC TRANSIT."
-F-W-F------------------------------------------------------------F-W-F-
Pummelo emerged from LNHQ, blinking in the daylight.
Twitter shouted, "There!" One of the Servants of Sloth - and it was
fighting one of the Serious Businessmen!
Close up, the Serious Businessman was like a portrait of a human being
created by cutting into a school desk with a pocketknife. It was all
angles and anger, and seemed to thrusting itself into the world with
each motion, dragging something else along with it... something that
was soon to pop out...
Pummelo's eyes watered. Still, he ran toward a nearby group of random
citizens. "Hey! Don't worry!"
They turned, a little bored but attentive. Ah! Native Net.ropolitans.
They hadn't been hit with the full, enervating force of the Servant's
presence, it being focused on the Businessman, but they had caught the
edge of it. His presence seemed to be helping them shake off the
lethargy, though. One of them, a middle-aged woman in a very nice
blouse-and-skirt combo, said, "Hey. What's up?"
"Um, uh..." What did they say on the news? "Class 4 incursion!"
Class 4 was (he thought) an infectious agent, some net.villain or
monster with the ability to spread their condition to others, who would
in turn spread it further. Serious bad mojo - the last Class 4 that'd
gotten out of control in Net.ropolis had been eleven years ago, when
some kind of space demon who'd turned a bunch of people into trolls,
and resulted in a lot of deaths by violence and brain tumors. Could
being a Servant of Sloth kill you? Well, even if not, fighting the
Serious Businessmen probably could...
"Well shit," said the woman, glancing at her co-workers. Her eyes were
slightly glazed. "Should we head home?"
...what *were* you supposed to do in a situation like this? "Um, get to
the first safe place you can," Pummelo said. "Stay off the street, and
especially stay away from, uh..." He turned and pointed toward the
battle. "Stay away from anyone who looks like that!"
He looked over his shoulder and... they were gone! Proper evacuation
procedures indeed! How'd they move that fast without a Memory Stick?
But then he noticed - down the sidewalk, across the street, people were
disappearing, blurring out of sight. Was this some new form of attack?
-F-W-F------------------------------------------------------------F-W-F-
A couple minutes earlier, Chaos Theory appeared on the sidewalk, right
next to the Servant/Businessman skirmish. "Hmmm," they mumbled to
themself. "I said I'd move linearly through time on this one... but I
didn't say anything about staying in sync!"
They stepped two-tenths of a second ahead of the continually collapsing
wavefront of the present into a ghost version of Net.ropolis. They
looked back with their timevision and saw a group of confused civilians
clustered on the sidewalk. They reached out and phase-shifted them
forward.
"Hi, folks," they said. "Don't worry, new evacuation procedures. You'll
be just fine. Sit, relax - have a smoothie, on the house." They passed
out mango and strawberry smoothies, plus an orange slushie for the gent
in the back. Then they zipped away (before questions could be asked)
and grabbed another bystander off the street, and another, and another.
After they'd cleared a three-block radius around the LNHQ (including a
rather uncomfortable encounter with an ex), they paused between
moments, balanced perfectly on a Planck. "Come to think, might be smart
to bring in some help." They reached out, upstream and down. "I trust
those guys to solve the big problem. But the little details? Well,
that's why they brought me along." Curling tendrils of temporal
discharge wrapped around them. "Even if they didn't know it."
They could feel the progress of time, extending back until it merged
with backstory. Well, that seemed a reasonable distance. Twenty-one
years in this direction, and twenty-one years in the other...
They pulled.
And across time, net.heroes past and future were pulled into the
present day...
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note: And now that Second Phase is over, *you* can join in on
the fun!
It's easy! If you're a newbie to the LNH, or if you just want to try
out something new, you can just make up a character or a team and have
them pulled in from a possible future! No muss, no fuss, no need for
explaining backstory or setting up plots! Label your issue <Series
Title> #0.85!
If you're an oldschool LNHer who wants to bring their characters into
the modern day, or just someone who has a cool idea for a character
from the past, well, let's rip off Blackest Night! Add one to the issue
number of a series from the past and have your character(s) suddenly pulled
forward from whatever they'd last been doing!
If you have any questions, drop a comment in RACC or send me an email!
Let's have fun!
Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, crossovers yay!
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