Post by Aim on Nov 10, 2005 16:53:37 GMT -5
This is the entire 1st to 2nd parts and the prologue.
*AimMan slaps himself for writing this*
Awkward Date
PROLOGUE: Clarification
Just to clarify, this is not a Megaman+Tron fan fiction, so please, before you discard it as being a common humdrum romantic date in a black dress affair, please read into it.
Also, to clarify questions I know will arise:
-The current time in the story is about a year after Megaman returned to Earth from Elysium, which places it a little over twelve months past MML2’s ending.
-Soon after Megaman‘s return, a new Gesselshaft was produced to provide a new base of operations for the Bonne pirates. It has yet to sustain any considerable damage worth repair, and is almost an exact replica of the old one, yet is entitled “Gesselshaft Mk.II” all the same.
-I couldn’t write the story in 1st person view, primarily for the reason that I’d feel silly writing as a love-obsessed teenage girl.
If anyone has further questions or spots any inconsistencies or major grammatical errors, please contact me. With that all said, please enjoy the story.
PART 1: The Most Wise and Understanding Brother In the World
Tron was having one of her fits again. It had been a boring week; funds were coming in slow. There were no big plans, no big events, nothing. A few small raids, a couple of few encounters with the Loathes, and the measly attempts at capture by disorganized police were all the she’d been blessed with recently. Ever since Megaman had returned and the Bonnes and Casketts parted ways, she’d gone without seeing him. It bugged her; she especially thought of that girl. “Sitting there in her ridiculous red shorts with Megaman all to herself,” Tron thought. “She probably isn’t actually even piloting that puny tin can; I’ll bet it’s on an autopilot.” She didn’t know what was causing these fits: jealousy, passion, insanity, the savage desire for a challenge, or maybe just boredom. She just knew that whatever was happening, she was going to drive herself crazy thinking about Megaman sometime soon. She frequented her diary (which neither her cylinder- headed servants nor her two brothers would ever dream of breeching), filling the pages with the useless streams of babble produced from her head each moment. Nobody would think of looking in it. “Why, only a jerk would look in somebody else’s diary!” she thought to herself. Perhaps she was obsessed, although she liked to think she was still in control.
At any rate, the situation had gotten dangerous. She became aware that the Servbots were beginning to become conscious of her obsession. Occasionally, Tron found she betrayed herself with small actions, and at times, even talked in her sleep about her battles with him. She had no pictures she could look at; a few weeks after his return, his trip was no longer considered news worth airing. She had no previous photographs, which she at first believed was amazing considering how long they’d known each other. However, when she thought about it logically, she began to realize it was only sensible; after all, who in the world would fall in love with their worst enemy? It was completely ridiculous. Her only refuge was to consult the few memory files lying dormant on some of her scrap machinery. It was little but precious. It was the only source she could use to feel like she was with him.
Contemplating over this, she became aware of a Servbot watching her, that irksome #40. “Why was he always in here when I don’t want him to be?” she thought angrily. Suddenly, Tron became worried. The Servbot’s eyes looked as though its busy near-human mechanical AI was attempting to sort out a past conflict, or maybe an order it had received. She realized she had been blushing; she may have even sighed a few times. The Servbot’s hand went to its head as it racked its memory in innocent intent, trying to recall the order. “Oh, that’s right!” he chimed out, “I was supposed to inform Master Tiesel ‘when Tron starts to express strange emotions about boys.’” It was purely a slip-up; she’d gotten careless, and if Tiesel found out about her secret emotion, there’s no doubt he would be irate and dumbfounded. Megaman, or Blue Boy, as he still called him, was still Tiesel’s archrival; he couldn’t let the old grudge die. Whenever a robot had a malfunction or took the slightest damage during a mission, it was ‘that blasted blue boy’s fault.’ Whenever other pirates were captured on the news, Tiesel would grumble ‘it was probably that kid again.’ Whenever a blueprint, a small sum of money, or even a teriyaki pizza went missing, it was attributable to that most heinous of villains, Megaman Trigger. It was a pretty illogical grudge, or so Tron thought. Not only had Megaman saved the entire world of Terra, but also, Tiesel had even helped Megaman out himself. It would be so much easier if she could find a way to make Tiesel get along with the Casketts.
Tron knew what the Servbot intended to do; he’d run back and deliver the new to Tiesel with blinding haste. She had to stop him here and nip it in the bud. She leaned in close to the tiny Servbot as the little robot shook in fear, feeling closed in by her huge, demonic slopes of dark hair. “Tiesel doesn’t need to know any of this, you hear me? “If Tiesel gets any word on what you’ve seen here, I might have to transfer you to the Torture Room. Each day you’ll clean yourself off the floor!” she yelled into the shaking timid Servbot’s face. “Yes Miss Tron! He won’t know a thing!” he whimpered, scurrying out the door with remarkable speed. Tron only hoped that this would be the last time she encountered something like this. Too many close shaves and her life as an infamous and brilliant Bonne pirate would be ruined! “You can be sure Miss Tron, I won’t say one peep!” he yelled back.
5 seconds later, the Servbot was in Tiesel’s room. “Master Tiesel! Master Tiesel! Code I <3 U 2!” The Servbot yelled at the top of his lungs. Jumping out of bed, Tiesel’s mouth moved furiously. “What! Where? Who! When?!” he jabbered. Collecting himself, he asked the little worker, “Are you sure that’s what this is? Last time it was just a fever.” “No sir,” #40 responded, “she even started to say his name. It didn’t sound like anyone important though.” Tiesel sat down on his antique stool, a Bonne family heirloom that had miraculously survived every various explosion he had encountered throughout his battles. He racked his brain, thinking, “Does Tron know any young men?… It seems like we haven’t socialized in ages. The only one I can remember is that blue boy, and Tron hates him just as much as I do, according to her speeches during the Bonne family “Hatred Hour.” Wait a minute! There’s one other!” His mouth fell to his feet, his eyes became two tiny dots, and even the accompanying Servbot was stricken with a sense of dumbness. The answer rebounded in Tiesel’s head many times. He couldn’t believe it. Her taste was incomprehensible; what could that guy have that could attract anyone? Tiesel knew, in his own mind, beyond the shadow of a doubt, with absolute certainty…
Tron was in love with Glyde.
It took a little while for Tiesel to sit down and accept this ‘truth.’ “Why, why, why? Why did it have to be him? She could have fallen in love with somebody nicer, or at least someone with better sense in fashion! I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed as he knocked his head from side to side with both of his tightly clenched, black-gloved fists. “Ah well, I know my duty. I’m her older brother; Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted to see her suffer. If it’s a birdie baby wants, it’s a birdie baby gets.” Tiesel rose from his stool, and cracked his knuckles. For the better part of 5 minutes, he prepared himself, loosening his joints, preparing him for the trying task ahead of him, and for that matter, for the misguided joviality of his naïve sister. He knew what he had to do; he would arrange a meeting between them himself. He hoped deep inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if Tron had a date with that insidious Glyde, she would realize her poor judgment.
Tiesel knocked boldly on his sister’s door, knowing she enjoyed her privacy, an ironic truth when put next to his previous action, which was outlandishly invasive. His nostrils flare, his hair spiked, his dark eyebrows peaked harder than ever before, tension outlining the brow just above his glaring red eyes. Tron came to the door nervously, in a way bearing more shame than she had ever bourn before. She knew Tiesel would be furious; she hoped his eyes couldn’t become redder than previously. She timidly opened the door, and jumped back in fright. She could not face her brother, trembling as she was, seeing him standing erect and furious just outside her door as she had. She ran to her bed, and Tiesel creaked open the door. Both lacked certainty as to the events that would occur next.
“So, Tron, you know you can, ahem, talk to me about anything…” he started, coughing into his hand and puffing out his chest, trying to appear as mature and understanding as their deceased father.
“Yes, Tiesel, I know…” she whimpered pitifully from below her pink pillows into which she had burrowed.
“And, you know, I’ve heard reports from that mischievous little #40 that you’ve, er, taken a liking to a certain enemy of mine. You know, that b-
“Blue armored..?” she asked sheepishly.
“Well… armored…” He replied with a little perplexity. “Anyways, I know he means a lot to you.”
“Yes, I just can’t stop thinking about him Tiesel, even though he’s annoying and is constantly in our way, even despite everything he’s done to you and all of us!” she cried.
“Er, yes, but we’ve taken him before, haven’t we?” Tiesel murmured, his rage beginning to peak thinking back to his previous battles with Glyde.
“Well, technically…” she muttered under her breath.
“As I was saying, if you really want to meet with him, you can sister. I won’t try to stop you. Just… just be careful, ok?” he pleaded compassionately.
“Oh, thank you so much, big brother! I knew you’d understand! I’m sure he’s a nice guy inside! You‘ll love him to, you‘ll see!” she exclaimed with unbridled joy, embracing her brother and beaming from ear to ear.
“Hehe, yes, I’m… I’m sure he is… Yeah right…” he said to himself doubtfully, as he soothingly comforted his delirious sister.
Tron was ecstatic. Just a few days before her life was complete. She’d see Megaman again for the first time in nearly a year! They’d share a romantic evening, and maybe Tiesel would even get to know him too. They could stop fighting and finally live in harmony. They might even be able to start spending time together! She’d never doubted her brother. He was so wise, so understanding, so completely aware of her true feelings; he really was a great man, just like his father. She thanked her lucky stars for blessing her with such a compassionate and intellectual brother. And a giant metal one to boot!
END PART 1
PART 2: Something Unique
“Wow, I’m so excited!” Tron exclaimed, her heart bursting with joy. “I’ve never been to Nino Island before; I heard that now it has a 5 star café! And not a dog, a reaverbot, or that annoying Glyde for miles!” “Ehehe…” Tiesel chuckled half-heartedly. Had that last comment been a joke? He certainly hoped, for the safety of everyone aboard their small, tightly packed Drauche. The island itself was small, but an enormous tower positioned in its center rose up like an enormous beacon, to Tron, a beacon of hope for the future. She saw several Digger ships positioned about. “That’s right,” she thought. Nino Island is home to the Digger’s Guild, where professional Diggers come to take their advancement tests and occasionally even explore the Nino ruins, a cumbersome submerged ruin, one of the most difficult to traverse on all of Terra. At one time, she heard, the Gull’s Café was pretty small. With only a few frequent customers, it was not known to be anything worthwhile. However, now, it was a reservation-only melting pot where only the richest culminated. Its atmosphere was supposedly delightful, and it had expanded nearly five or six times its original size. She couldn’t wait to see Megaman there; she wondered if he’d changed? When they last met after he returned to Terra, he seemed a little more mature; his face didn’t look so ridiculous and laughable as it had back during her time on Kattelox, and his voice was finally starting to show maturity (not that Susan Roman voice he’d been squeaking out earlier). She’d worn something special, and she began to wonder if he would do the same. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him in anything else…” she whispered to herself. “I’m sure he’ll be wearing something… unique.” Tiesel commented from the pilot’s seat with a little bit of sarcasm.
The guild master of Nino Island watched in horror as the pirate ship came ever closer. “PIRATES! JOHNNY, LOOK, IT’S THE PIRATES AGAIN!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs.
“Bah, you old coot, we haven’t had pirates since that incident with that blue kid a while back,” Johnny snapped in return.
“But, but are you sure? Maybe we should get the Parabola Machine up, just in case!” he said, sweating and searching for his island self-destruct button.
Sensing this, Johnny gulped and remarked, “We-we threw that thing away a while back, remember? The button I mean.”
“Ah yes, well, those blasted pirates won’t get an inch nearer to the base! This time the turrets are armed and ready! Haha! We’ve got them this time!” he raved.
“Sir, please, don’t issue the order!” Johnny pleaded, but the guild master was already barking doggedly into the intercom, readying all block 2 turrets to position.
“What? They’re going to fire on us!” Tiesel cried. “Seriously? WHY!?” yelled Tron. She hadn’t even reached the base yet, and already something was going wrong. A volley of elliptical yellow projectile erupted from the barrel of the right-hand turret. In mere moment’s, Tron’s night had been ruined, and the Drauche plummeted violently down. “Haha!” exclaimed the guild master, rising up onto the platform. “We got em!” He danced around haphazardly, until Johnny clutched him violently by the collar. “You old fool, that ship’s gonna crash into the platform!” Running for the exit, they were caught in a massive, spherical explosion, which erupted abruptly from the center of the crash point. The dock was ruined, the Drauche was destroyed, the turrets were broken, and above all, everyone was charred to a crisp golden brown. Tron got up first, desperately shaking the soot off, almost in the manner of a wild animal. She took a fleeting glance at her dress, which was now tattered and informal looking. After a small inspection she turned to her main concern; her hair…
Tron’s hair was fine.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Tron brushed the remaining soot from her dress and helped Tiesel and the servbots from the rubble (Bon did not accompany them on this date), not even bothering to give a glance at the fate of the guild master and his attendant. What did she care? It was their fault in the first place that they had crashed. “Well now, I don’t want to embarrass you in front of you date, so I’ll take off now. Be safe Tron!” Tiesel shouted, and walked two steps back. Tron interrupted abruptly, announcing, “The ships broken Tiesel, how are you all going to get home?” Tiesel grayed out in a statuesque manner; he had absolutely no idea. “Don’t you have any other robots on you, Tron!?” he growled between his teeth. “Sure, I have one Tiesel!”
It was a long ride home on the Finkel for two servbots and Tron’s older brother.
Tron stepped through the door labeled “BLOCK B.” Entering into the upper floor of the tower, she was surprised to see how much the place had grown since the stories she’d read a few years ago. The place was bustling, and while they were crude, many new additions had been added in the form of new facilities and expanded rooms. Asking a large, buff man in a red sleeveless t-shirt for directions, she learned that the Gull Café was located on the floor below her current one. She thanked him and politely headed onto the elevator. She thought to herself a little conceitedly, “I can be super goody-two-shoes when I put my mind to it. It’s a synch!” Tron smiled smugly, and let herself off on her desired floor. She glanced around, looking for the blue-armored nemesis she’d been longing to see for nearly a year. Suddenly, something flew up from the Nino Ruins entrance!
It was a small ship. It reminded Tron vaguely of an automobile she had seen back on Kattelox Island; a limousine, she believed it was called. She remembered that Tiesel told her the richest people were chauffeured everywhere in them, and her eyes had sparkled. One day, she was going to ride in one herself. Presently, however, Tron had absolutely no wish to ride in the awful embodiment of exorbitance that had produced itself from the abysmal pit. The entire surface sparkled with rich and pure gold. The front was adorned with a ridiculous figurehead, bearing a small resemblance to the repulsive face of Mr. Loathe, Glyde’s employer (meaning it was likely that Glyde had actually borrowed this on company funds). Its sides extended out bird like wings, purely for the tackiest taste of decoration. There was even a wide spoiler on the back, a blatant giveaway at the crude and abstract taste of the designer. It was horrible. She wished it would have been shot down like her own Drauche, but instead, it landed right in front of her, raising her skirt embarrassingly with high-forced winds. She squinted through the dust, all the while feeling more and more as though she had converted from her wonderful dream to the most horrible nightmare imaginable. The Loathe-faced bird head gazing at her was hideous, though she would have gladly stared at it for hours longer rather than gaze into the face of the figure leaving the bus.
Out came a brown, glistening cane, its ugliness rivaled only by its inability to correctly accessorize any sort of outfit. Worse yet was the awful head adorning it, a golden bird head in the shape of a Birdbot’s, grimacing and unfriendly. White gloves held tight to the top of it, and out arose the full creature to which the gruesome appendage belonged. It could have been an 8-headed gorgon, a hulking reaverbot; anything would have been easier on poor Tron than the slender, golden haired figure that stepped psuedo-suavely from the mock-limousine. His ridiculous hair, gelled even more heavily than usual so that even the giant top hair no longer stood erect, gave him away at a glance. The heavy curtain of hair veiled one of his eyes completely; she would have preferred it curtain both. The one visible eye glared at her with a mix of hostile emotions; a repulsive greed, a smug sense of superiority, even a revolting sense of belief that things were occurring in their own proper way. He wore a brown, steam-pressed suit with a yellow tie, and in general, his appearance radiated the same feeling of mediocrity that her life had been laced with over the past months. She sighed deeply; how did her brother make such a complete and utterly idiotic mistake?
Glyde swaggered over with an almost handsome air, seeming to altogether enhance his laughable demeanor by trying to conceal it, reflecting something similar to a garbage pail sprayed with air freshener, or in this case, expensive cologne. In reality, it was not anything about his natural appearance, more so, the way he poured an entire bucket full of useless extravagancies into his appearance. His hair was not naturally so vulgar, but his overuse of gel and ridiculous styling made it hard to tolerate. He had a jutting chin and a young face, but his constant expression was deplorable (if not even slightly feminine). His physique even struck her as desirable in a male, but littered with horrid abominations of appearance and mentality, there seemed to be nothing that anyone could find attractive about Glyde. With this dry, logical theory worked out, she had a faint notion that perhaps Glyde would simply vanish from the face of the galaxy as a service to all of mankind. No such luck, it would appear.
He stood face to face with her now; she wished it were still possible to look back to the grinning bird’s visage on the front of the ‘limousine.’ Children stared at them strangely, one remarking, “Are you guys diggers? Do you know the story of that blue guy who got the Ruin key a few years back?” Eager to change the topic to such a welcome topic, Tron turned to face the young child. However, as she turned, Glyde reached out with ironically cat-like reflexes and twisted Tron’s arm behind her back spontaneously. As she cried out in startled pain, he realized what he had done, releasing her delicate arm. “Whoops, silly me!” he said, befittingly his first words to her since their meeting on Nino. “It must be a habit I picked up back in Loathe’s office.” Tron barely laughed; it was obvious that anything she had done early to try and comfort Tiesel was a complete lie. Not only was Glyde bad, but if Tiesel could see him now, he would probably declare he’d rather have Megaman seeing his sister (or at least, Tron hoped that would have been his opinion). “So, how have you been lately? No hard feelings towards the past, eh? My, my, my, the Bonnes must be in a real pickle financially. Look at that awful mound of rags you’re wearing. Mayhaps we should go by Tailor Chino’s Fine Apparel Boutique real quick and pick you up something new,“ he suggested, oozing loathsome belittlement. “Heh, yeah,” she mumbled. If he had not flown in willy-nilly a few years back, the turrets wouldn’t have fired on her in the first place…
END PART 2
*AimMan slaps himself for writing this*
Awkward Date
PROLOGUE: Clarification
Just to clarify, this is not a Megaman+Tron fan fiction, so please, before you discard it as being a common humdrum romantic date in a black dress affair, please read into it.
Also, to clarify questions I know will arise:
-The current time in the story is about a year after Megaman returned to Earth from Elysium, which places it a little over twelve months past MML2’s ending.
-Soon after Megaman‘s return, a new Gesselshaft was produced to provide a new base of operations for the Bonne pirates. It has yet to sustain any considerable damage worth repair, and is almost an exact replica of the old one, yet is entitled “Gesselshaft Mk.II” all the same.
-I couldn’t write the story in 1st person view, primarily for the reason that I’d feel silly writing as a love-obsessed teenage girl.
If anyone has further questions or spots any inconsistencies or major grammatical errors, please contact me. With that all said, please enjoy the story.
PART 1: The Most Wise and Understanding Brother In the World
Tron was having one of her fits again. It had been a boring week; funds were coming in slow. There were no big plans, no big events, nothing. A few small raids, a couple of few encounters with the Loathes, and the measly attempts at capture by disorganized police were all the she’d been blessed with recently. Ever since Megaman had returned and the Bonnes and Casketts parted ways, she’d gone without seeing him. It bugged her; she especially thought of that girl. “Sitting there in her ridiculous red shorts with Megaman all to herself,” Tron thought. “She probably isn’t actually even piloting that puny tin can; I’ll bet it’s on an autopilot.” She didn’t know what was causing these fits: jealousy, passion, insanity, the savage desire for a challenge, or maybe just boredom. She just knew that whatever was happening, she was going to drive herself crazy thinking about Megaman sometime soon. She frequented her diary (which neither her cylinder- headed servants nor her two brothers would ever dream of breeching), filling the pages with the useless streams of babble produced from her head each moment. Nobody would think of looking in it. “Why, only a jerk would look in somebody else’s diary!” she thought to herself. Perhaps she was obsessed, although she liked to think she was still in control.
At any rate, the situation had gotten dangerous. She became aware that the Servbots were beginning to become conscious of her obsession. Occasionally, Tron found she betrayed herself with small actions, and at times, even talked in her sleep about her battles with him. She had no pictures she could look at; a few weeks after his return, his trip was no longer considered news worth airing. She had no previous photographs, which she at first believed was amazing considering how long they’d known each other. However, when she thought about it logically, she began to realize it was only sensible; after all, who in the world would fall in love with their worst enemy? It was completely ridiculous. Her only refuge was to consult the few memory files lying dormant on some of her scrap machinery. It was little but precious. It was the only source she could use to feel like she was with him.
Contemplating over this, she became aware of a Servbot watching her, that irksome #40. “Why was he always in here when I don’t want him to be?” she thought angrily. Suddenly, Tron became worried. The Servbot’s eyes looked as though its busy near-human mechanical AI was attempting to sort out a past conflict, or maybe an order it had received. She realized she had been blushing; she may have even sighed a few times. The Servbot’s hand went to its head as it racked its memory in innocent intent, trying to recall the order. “Oh, that’s right!” he chimed out, “I was supposed to inform Master Tiesel ‘when Tron starts to express strange emotions about boys.’” It was purely a slip-up; she’d gotten careless, and if Tiesel found out about her secret emotion, there’s no doubt he would be irate and dumbfounded. Megaman, or Blue Boy, as he still called him, was still Tiesel’s archrival; he couldn’t let the old grudge die. Whenever a robot had a malfunction or took the slightest damage during a mission, it was ‘that blasted blue boy’s fault.’ Whenever other pirates were captured on the news, Tiesel would grumble ‘it was probably that kid again.’ Whenever a blueprint, a small sum of money, or even a teriyaki pizza went missing, it was attributable to that most heinous of villains, Megaman Trigger. It was a pretty illogical grudge, or so Tron thought. Not only had Megaman saved the entire world of Terra, but also, Tiesel had even helped Megaman out himself. It would be so much easier if she could find a way to make Tiesel get along with the Casketts.
Tron knew what the Servbot intended to do; he’d run back and deliver the new to Tiesel with blinding haste. She had to stop him here and nip it in the bud. She leaned in close to the tiny Servbot as the little robot shook in fear, feeling closed in by her huge, demonic slopes of dark hair. “Tiesel doesn’t need to know any of this, you hear me? “If Tiesel gets any word on what you’ve seen here, I might have to transfer you to the Torture Room. Each day you’ll clean yourself off the floor!” she yelled into the shaking timid Servbot’s face. “Yes Miss Tron! He won’t know a thing!” he whimpered, scurrying out the door with remarkable speed. Tron only hoped that this would be the last time she encountered something like this. Too many close shaves and her life as an infamous and brilliant Bonne pirate would be ruined! “You can be sure Miss Tron, I won’t say one peep!” he yelled back.
5 seconds later, the Servbot was in Tiesel’s room. “Master Tiesel! Master Tiesel! Code I <3 U 2!” The Servbot yelled at the top of his lungs. Jumping out of bed, Tiesel’s mouth moved furiously. “What! Where? Who! When?!” he jabbered. Collecting himself, he asked the little worker, “Are you sure that’s what this is? Last time it was just a fever.” “No sir,” #40 responded, “she even started to say his name. It didn’t sound like anyone important though.” Tiesel sat down on his antique stool, a Bonne family heirloom that had miraculously survived every various explosion he had encountered throughout his battles. He racked his brain, thinking, “Does Tron know any young men?… It seems like we haven’t socialized in ages. The only one I can remember is that blue boy, and Tron hates him just as much as I do, according to her speeches during the Bonne family “Hatred Hour.” Wait a minute! There’s one other!” His mouth fell to his feet, his eyes became two tiny dots, and even the accompanying Servbot was stricken with a sense of dumbness. The answer rebounded in Tiesel’s head many times. He couldn’t believe it. Her taste was incomprehensible; what could that guy have that could attract anyone? Tiesel knew, in his own mind, beyond the shadow of a doubt, with absolute certainty…
Tron was in love with Glyde.
It took a little while for Tiesel to sit down and accept this ‘truth.’ “Why, why, why? Why did it have to be him? She could have fallen in love with somebody nicer, or at least someone with better sense in fashion! I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed as he knocked his head from side to side with both of his tightly clenched, black-gloved fists. “Ah well, I know my duty. I’m her older brother; Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted to see her suffer. If it’s a birdie baby wants, it’s a birdie baby gets.” Tiesel rose from his stool, and cracked his knuckles. For the better part of 5 minutes, he prepared himself, loosening his joints, preparing him for the trying task ahead of him, and for that matter, for the misguided joviality of his naïve sister. He knew what he had to do; he would arrange a meeting between them himself. He hoped deep inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if Tron had a date with that insidious Glyde, she would realize her poor judgment.
Tiesel knocked boldly on his sister’s door, knowing she enjoyed her privacy, an ironic truth when put next to his previous action, which was outlandishly invasive. His nostrils flare, his hair spiked, his dark eyebrows peaked harder than ever before, tension outlining the brow just above his glaring red eyes. Tron came to the door nervously, in a way bearing more shame than she had ever bourn before. She knew Tiesel would be furious; she hoped his eyes couldn’t become redder than previously. She timidly opened the door, and jumped back in fright. She could not face her brother, trembling as she was, seeing him standing erect and furious just outside her door as she had. She ran to her bed, and Tiesel creaked open the door. Both lacked certainty as to the events that would occur next.
“So, Tron, you know you can, ahem, talk to me about anything…” he started, coughing into his hand and puffing out his chest, trying to appear as mature and understanding as their deceased father.
“Yes, Tiesel, I know…” she whimpered pitifully from below her pink pillows into which she had burrowed.
“And, you know, I’ve heard reports from that mischievous little #40 that you’ve, er, taken a liking to a certain enemy of mine. You know, that b-
“Blue armored..?” she asked sheepishly.
“Well… armored…” He replied with a little perplexity. “Anyways, I know he means a lot to you.”
“Yes, I just can’t stop thinking about him Tiesel, even though he’s annoying and is constantly in our way, even despite everything he’s done to you and all of us!” she cried.
“Er, yes, but we’ve taken him before, haven’t we?” Tiesel murmured, his rage beginning to peak thinking back to his previous battles with Glyde.
“Well, technically…” she muttered under her breath.
“As I was saying, if you really want to meet with him, you can sister. I won’t try to stop you. Just… just be careful, ok?” he pleaded compassionately.
“Oh, thank you so much, big brother! I knew you’d understand! I’m sure he’s a nice guy inside! You‘ll love him to, you‘ll see!” she exclaimed with unbridled joy, embracing her brother and beaming from ear to ear.
“Hehe, yes, I’m… I’m sure he is… Yeah right…” he said to himself doubtfully, as he soothingly comforted his delirious sister.
Tron was ecstatic. Just a few days before her life was complete. She’d see Megaman again for the first time in nearly a year! They’d share a romantic evening, and maybe Tiesel would even get to know him too. They could stop fighting and finally live in harmony. They might even be able to start spending time together! She’d never doubted her brother. He was so wise, so understanding, so completely aware of her true feelings; he really was a great man, just like his father. She thanked her lucky stars for blessing her with such a compassionate and intellectual brother. And a giant metal one to boot!
END PART 1
PART 2: Something Unique
“Wow, I’m so excited!” Tron exclaimed, her heart bursting with joy. “I’ve never been to Nino Island before; I heard that now it has a 5 star café! And not a dog, a reaverbot, or that annoying Glyde for miles!” “Ehehe…” Tiesel chuckled half-heartedly. Had that last comment been a joke? He certainly hoped, for the safety of everyone aboard their small, tightly packed Drauche. The island itself was small, but an enormous tower positioned in its center rose up like an enormous beacon, to Tron, a beacon of hope for the future. She saw several Digger ships positioned about. “That’s right,” she thought. Nino Island is home to the Digger’s Guild, where professional Diggers come to take their advancement tests and occasionally even explore the Nino ruins, a cumbersome submerged ruin, one of the most difficult to traverse on all of Terra. At one time, she heard, the Gull’s Café was pretty small. With only a few frequent customers, it was not known to be anything worthwhile. However, now, it was a reservation-only melting pot where only the richest culminated. Its atmosphere was supposedly delightful, and it had expanded nearly five or six times its original size. She couldn’t wait to see Megaman there; she wondered if he’d changed? When they last met after he returned to Terra, he seemed a little more mature; his face didn’t look so ridiculous and laughable as it had back during her time on Kattelox, and his voice was finally starting to show maturity (not that Susan Roman voice he’d been squeaking out earlier). She’d worn something special, and she began to wonder if he would do the same. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him in anything else…” she whispered to herself. “I’m sure he’ll be wearing something… unique.” Tiesel commented from the pilot’s seat with a little bit of sarcasm.
The guild master of Nino Island watched in horror as the pirate ship came ever closer. “PIRATES! JOHNNY, LOOK, IT’S THE PIRATES AGAIN!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs.
“Bah, you old coot, we haven’t had pirates since that incident with that blue kid a while back,” Johnny snapped in return.
“But, but are you sure? Maybe we should get the Parabola Machine up, just in case!” he said, sweating and searching for his island self-destruct button.
Sensing this, Johnny gulped and remarked, “We-we threw that thing away a while back, remember? The button I mean.”
“Ah yes, well, those blasted pirates won’t get an inch nearer to the base! This time the turrets are armed and ready! Haha! We’ve got them this time!” he raved.
“Sir, please, don’t issue the order!” Johnny pleaded, but the guild master was already barking doggedly into the intercom, readying all block 2 turrets to position.
“What? They’re going to fire on us!” Tiesel cried. “Seriously? WHY!?” yelled Tron. She hadn’t even reached the base yet, and already something was going wrong. A volley of elliptical yellow projectile erupted from the barrel of the right-hand turret. In mere moment’s, Tron’s night had been ruined, and the Drauche plummeted violently down. “Haha!” exclaimed the guild master, rising up onto the platform. “We got em!” He danced around haphazardly, until Johnny clutched him violently by the collar. “You old fool, that ship’s gonna crash into the platform!” Running for the exit, they were caught in a massive, spherical explosion, which erupted abruptly from the center of the crash point. The dock was ruined, the Drauche was destroyed, the turrets were broken, and above all, everyone was charred to a crisp golden brown. Tron got up first, desperately shaking the soot off, almost in the manner of a wild animal. She took a fleeting glance at her dress, which was now tattered and informal looking. After a small inspection she turned to her main concern; her hair…
Tron’s hair was fine.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Tron brushed the remaining soot from her dress and helped Tiesel and the servbots from the rubble (Bon did not accompany them on this date), not even bothering to give a glance at the fate of the guild master and his attendant. What did she care? It was their fault in the first place that they had crashed. “Well now, I don’t want to embarrass you in front of you date, so I’ll take off now. Be safe Tron!” Tiesel shouted, and walked two steps back. Tron interrupted abruptly, announcing, “The ships broken Tiesel, how are you all going to get home?” Tiesel grayed out in a statuesque manner; he had absolutely no idea. “Don’t you have any other robots on you, Tron!?” he growled between his teeth. “Sure, I have one Tiesel!”
It was a long ride home on the Finkel for two servbots and Tron’s older brother.
Tron stepped through the door labeled “BLOCK B.” Entering into the upper floor of the tower, she was surprised to see how much the place had grown since the stories she’d read a few years ago. The place was bustling, and while they were crude, many new additions had been added in the form of new facilities and expanded rooms. Asking a large, buff man in a red sleeveless t-shirt for directions, she learned that the Gull Café was located on the floor below her current one. She thanked him and politely headed onto the elevator. She thought to herself a little conceitedly, “I can be super goody-two-shoes when I put my mind to it. It’s a synch!” Tron smiled smugly, and let herself off on her desired floor. She glanced around, looking for the blue-armored nemesis she’d been longing to see for nearly a year. Suddenly, something flew up from the Nino Ruins entrance!
It was a small ship. It reminded Tron vaguely of an automobile she had seen back on Kattelox Island; a limousine, she believed it was called. She remembered that Tiesel told her the richest people were chauffeured everywhere in them, and her eyes had sparkled. One day, she was going to ride in one herself. Presently, however, Tron had absolutely no wish to ride in the awful embodiment of exorbitance that had produced itself from the abysmal pit. The entire surface sparkled with rich and pure gold. The front was adorned with a ridiculous figurehead, bearing a small resemblance to the repulsive face of Mr. Loathe, Glyde’s employer (meaning it was likely that Glyde had actually borrowed this on company funds). Its sides extended out bird like wings, purely for the tackiest taste of decoration. There was even a wide spoiler on the back, a blatant giveaway at the crude and abstract taste of the designer. It was horrible. She wished it would have been shot down like her own Drauche, but instead, it landed right in front of her, raising her skirt embarrassingly with high-forced winds. She squinted through the dust, all the while feeling more and more as though she had converted from her wonderful dream to the most horrible nightmare imaginable. The Loathe-faced bird head gazing at her was hideous, though she would have gladly stared at it for hours longer rather than gaze into the face of the figure leaving the bus.
Out came a brown, glistening cane, its ugliness rivaled only by its inability to correctly accessorize any sort of outfit. Worse yet was the awful head adorning it, a golden bird head in the shape of a Birdbot’s, grimacing and unfriendly. White gloves held tight to the top of it, and out arose the full creature to which the gruesome appendage belonged. It could have been an 8-headed gorgon, a hulking reaverbot; anything would have been easier on poor Tron than the slender, golden haired figure that stepped psuedo-suavely from the mock-limousine. His ridiculous hair, gelled even more heavily than usual so that even the giant top hair no longer stood erect, gave him away at a glance. The heavy curtain of hair veiled one of his eyes completely; she would have preferred it curtain both. The one visible eye glared at her with a mix of hostile emotions; a repulsive greed, a smug sense of superiority, even a revolting sense of belief that things were occurring in their own proper way. He wore a brown, steam-pressed suit with a yellow tie, and in general, his appearance radiated the same feeling of mediocrity that her life had been laced with over the past months. She sighed deeply; how did her brother make such a complete and utterly idiotic mistake?
Glyde swaggered over with an almost handsome air, seeming to altogether enhance his laughable demeanor by trying to conceal it, reflecting something similar to a garbage pail sprayed with air freshener, or in this case, expensive cologne. In reality, it was not anything about his natural appearance, more so, the way he poured an entire bucket full of useless extravagancies into his appearance. His hair was not naturally so vulgar, but his overuse of gel and ridiculous styling made it hard to tolerate. He had a jutting chin and a young face, but his constant expression was deplorable (if not even slightly feminine). His physique even struck her as desirable in a male, but littered with horrid abominations of appearance and mentality, there seemed to be nothing that anyone could find attractive about Glyde. With this dry, logical theory worked out, she had a faint notion that perhaps Glyde would simply vanish from the face of the galaxy as a service to all of mankind. No such luck, it would appear.
He stood face to face with her now; she wished it were still possible to look back to the grinning bird’s visage on the front of the ‘limousine.’ Children stared at them strangely, one remarking, “Are you guys diggers? Do you know the story of that blue guy who got the Ruin key a few years back?” Eager to change the topic to such a welcome topic, Tron turned to face the young child. However, as she turned, Glyde reached out with ironically cat-like reflexes and twisted Tron’s arm behind her back spontaneously. As she cried out in startled pain, he realized what he had done, releasing her delicate arm. “Whoops, silly me!” he said, befittingly his first words to her since their meeting on Nino. “It must be a habit I picked up back in Loathe’s office.” Tron barely laughed; it was obvious that anything she had done early to try and comfort Tiesel was a complete lie. Not only was Glyde bad, but if Tiesel could see him now, he would probably declare he’d rather have Megaman seeing his sister (or at least, Tron hoped that would have been his opinion). “So, how have you been lately? No hard feelings towards the past, eh? My, my, my, the Bonnes must be in a real pickle financially. Look at that awful mound of rags you’re wearing. Mayhaps we should go by Tailor Chino’s Fine Apparel Boutique real quick and pick you up something new,“ he suggested, oozing loathsome belittlement. “Heh, yeah,” she mumbled. If he had not flown in willy-nilly a few years back, the turrets wouldn’t have fired on her in the first place…
END PART 2
Half of me wanted to laugh out loud, and half of me wanted to give him a hug. ^_^;
. The plot is actually killer, I haven't gone on to part 3&4 yet because as you alluded to in your 1 gold bullion per word post, it is long. Hair raisingly long. I can't see anything you could cut from the first two parts but in your next fic make the segments themselves shorter, more bite sized if you will. Not tiny, not particularly small if you don't want to, but even if you had to cut out at the ship crash part and start again at the part whey they stand up burnt to a crip, that would make the chapters shorter and provide more closing/opening space for comedy. Try it and you'll see what I mean. At the very least, on this one, you could have posted parts one and two seperately so they could be more easily commented on.
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