Unfortunately, the only station he could receive clearly was one playing pop music. "Am I the only one who thinks `Hit me baby one more time' smacks of domestic violence? If taste isn't dead, it must be in a coma," the ancient immortal muttered to himself as he gave up on his search and switched the radio off.
The sandwiches made by the staff at the inn were quite good, but the only beverage available was water and the meal suffered greatly for lack of beer, at least in Methos's opinion.
"A brewer too? Adam is a man of many talents," Legolas observed.
"He's a sharp one," Gimli agreed unimpressed. "Don't ask him anything about the beer making," Gimli warned, "If you do he'll wax eloquent for an hour or so about the wonders of the beverage."
"Why would this `Mac' think he was at fault?" Aragorn asked.
"Because Mac is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, noble warrior and fussy, hardheaded, old woman who is incapable of minding his own business. He is firmly convinced that correction of every mishap or minor evil since the creation of the world is somehow his responsibility," Adam explained.
‘Perfect, how do I manage to get myself into these things? All I’ve ever wanted was a nice peaceful, safe, life. Instead, I’m riding off into a possible nest of vipers in order to avert a war accompanied people who know I’m immortal when I wished they didn’t. It’s all MacLeod’s fault. If it weren’t for him my conscience would still be resting peacefully. I could have played dead and headed off in the opposite direction when they weren’t looking. But, no, letting Aragorn feel guilty for my not actually dying would be wrong,’ Methos thought as they climbed back on their horses and continued their journey. "Bloody Highlander." he muttered under his breath.
"The weather's warm. You'll soon dry," Legolas said taking some amusement in Adam's seemingly contradictory behavior. `He dies and returns without comment, but complains about damp clothing,' the elf observed to himself.
"That does sound like him. Why can’t he travel under his own name, like any normal
person?""Hasn’t he said something about not wanting to stay in any place Adam Pierson could afford?"
"Numerous times, usually while he’s inviting himself to my couch."
"Well, we don’t. He’d never believe an elf would stoop so low. Thinking that King Elessar, poster boy for honor and nobility, would countenance such a thing is equally ridiculous," said Methos.
"Poster boy?" Aragorn said in a slightly warning tone, implying that Methos had perhaps overstepped his bounds just a little.
"It’s a compliment. It means you’re the archetype, the role model, the person mothers hold up as an example to their sons," Methos answered smoothly.
"I see." Aragorn answered dryly, not buying Methos’s explanation and suspecting he was being made into a figure of fun.
Methos, setting to work, muttered to himself, "What is wrong with me? I go millennia without telling a soul about my dark past, then in less than a decade I tell everyone I know. I shudder to think what Freud would make of this. I’m not dealing with unresolved issues. I’m not. All my issues are fully resolved."
"Perfect. Just remember, annoy me and there’s no telling what might end up in your chronicle," Joe warned.
"No singing in the shower at the crack of dawn?"
"Not unless you want future generations of Watchers reading a critique of your song choice and singing ability."
Aragorn gave Methos an incredulous look and said slowly, "You find it necessary to kill your students a few times in order to teach them?"
"What? They get back up, good as new." Methos said defensively. Then, after a pause for reflection, he conceded, "I suppose it’s not exactly necessary. There are other ways to bring the seriousness of the situation home to them, but that would take longer."
"And require effort on your part," Aragorn tacked on to Methos’s statement.
"Okay, I admit it. I’m lazy. There are reasons I never take on a student unless I absolutely have to. I never claimed to be a good teacher."
"I pity any student who has you for a master," Aragorn said with a chuckle.
ROG on Vacation, dhrachth
"Too bad the old man isn’t here to hear that. He’d faint from the shock. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod actually doing the pragmatic thing rather than carrying loyalty to extremes," Joe said shaking his head in disbelief.
"I’m sure he’d be very proud," Duncan added dryly.
"Do you want to fly commercial mere days before Christmas?" Methos returned.
"Well, no, of course not," Duncan answered suspiciously, knowing there had to be a
catch."Great, then there’s not a problem. Wealthy antique dealer, Duncan MacLeod, can easily afford a private jet and might as well give his friends a lift while he’s at it," Methos said, giving Duncan his most charming smile.
"If something like that happens, it won’t be because of me. I’m not going to use the power of the wish until I figure out a way of controlling it better. Like you said, making a guy lose all his hair or turining him into a pig is one thing, but what if some woman wishes for the stock market to crash so her boyfriend will lose all his money? That would be terrible."
"Absolutely horrific," Buffy agreed dryly, thinking endangering Anya’s pocketbook was the swiftest way to get the demon worried. "Now that we have that settled. I was wondering if you could help us with something?"
The elf had found flying through the air in a metal machine to be highly unnatural and more than a little nerve wracking. He’d spent the entire flight clutching the arms of his seat and trying not to think about what was going on. Methos found something about a nervous elf extremely funny and didn’t bother to restrain his laughter.
"Shouldn’t he be a little more careful?"
"Legolas is in no danger of falling. Elves may look like humans with pointy ears, but they’re not. Different rules apply," Methos elaborated.
"Different rules as in no law of gravity?" Duncan asked skeptically.
"I’m the Slayer. I’m suppose to strike fear into the hearts of monsters everywhere. If they have hearts... I strike fear into whatever heart-like thingy they have... in place of a heart."
"No, I mean the fact that you know your way around the sewers better than your way around town is scary. You don’t want that to get around, people will start calling you sewer girl."
"Isn’t ‘borrowing’ one of my books a little far to go, just to get on this woman’s good side?" Duncan asked.
"Never underestimate the value of a good first impression and a good first impression is all in the details," Methos explained.
"If you say so, but next time you want to make a good first impression with my belongings, make sure you ask first."
"Leave me out of it," the Watcher said. "You two can spend the whole flight making up for the lack of road trips during your childhood if you want to, but I plan on enjoying a nice long in flight nap." Then Joe arranged one of those U-shaped travel pillows to suit him and closed his eyes for a nap.
"Joe?" Methos said.
"What is it, Adam?" Joe asked, giving the ancient Immortal a sidelong glance through barely open eyes.
"Are we there yet?" the ancient Immortal asked in a sing-song voice.
"There are run of the mill apocalypses? How can an apocalypse be run of the mill?" Duncan asked as Dawn handed him some books and he took a seat at the table.
"You’d be surprised," Buffy answered.
"No imposition at all, we’ll be happy to have you," Buffy answered equally graciously, having warmed to Joe shortly after meeting him. He reminded her of Giles in a weird kind of way, even though he wasn’t at all British or tweedy.
"No, but Buffy and Legolas might have found something or they could have set up in the library." Dawn paused for a moment, gave Duncan a speculative look, and said, "Mac, can I ask you something?"
"You can ask," Duncan replied curiously, wondering what the teenager wanted to know.
"Are you single?"
Buffy snorted slightly at this suggestion as she looked behind the charred lunch counter and into the kitchens behind, "That’s what Dawn says, that I just have to find the right guy. Even if you two are right, there’s still my total inability to distinguishing between Mr. Right and Mr. So Hideously Wrong We’re Lucky if He Doesn’t Torture and Kill My Friends."
"That would present some difficulty. Does your sister have a solution?" Legolas asked lightly, taking his cue from Buffy’s flip attitude toward her predicament.
"Her latest solution seems to be to set me up with Mac. She hasn’t said anything, but I can see the signs," Buffy complained.
"Avoiding death and disaster, that narrows it down some. Death and disaster are sort of a vengeance demon credo. Wait a second, that’s it, Death. You’re Death!" Anya said excitedly. "Hallie is going to be so jealous."
"Jealous?" Methos asked, "And how do you know I was Death? Or were you around back then?""I know
who you are because Vince has an enormous picture of the Four Horsemen sweeping down on a village over his fire place. He’s really proud of it because it’s the first really good photo he took with his new digital camera. He’s a Chronos demon, they travel in time and are usually pretty good with technology--not having originated in the dark ages like most demons I know. But, Vince has always been kind of slow to learn new things. Figuring out the sepia function on his new camera was a red letter day for
him.""Burning at the stake?" Duncan asked curiously, as he took out a pan and looked for a spatula.
"Long story, there was this demon, people started acting wacky, and me and Willow ended up tied to stakes with our mothers holding torches," Buffy explained. "I don’t really hold it against Mrs. Rosenberg, demon causing it and all, but she could’ve at least said she was sorry or something. She didn’t even give Willow a sorry I tried to kill you shopping
trip."Duncan mixed up the batter and managed to make some fairly decent pancakes, even with the less than ideal ingredients. Then the four of them passed a strangely pleasant evening as they waited for dawn, eating breakfast food in a someone else’s kitchen and exchanging friendly banter as vampires pounded on the doors and windows wanting to get in to kill them all.
"Buffy, I distinctly heard an ‘except’ tacked on to that last sentence. What aren’t you telling me?" Willow pressed.
"I think I’m hearing resolve face," Buffy stalled. "Are you giving the phone resolve
face?""You betcha missy," Willow agreed, "Now stop stalling and tell me what happened."
"That’s understandable," Duncan said, taking off his second favorite duster--his first favorite was lost the night before during the fight with the vampires--and hanging it on the coat rack next to the door. "Is Legolas here?"
Meanwhile, at the Magic Box, Methos was avidly reading an account of his own life from the point of view of a 12th century magician who claimed to be a reincarnation of Death. When he reached a section about how Death shared a psychic connection with his horse, Methos couldn’t suppress a snicker.
Later that evening, Methos and Anya were having dinner together. Methos was finally persuaded to share some of his past exploits with the vengeance demon, having come to the conclusion that a woman who freely admits to burning people alive and starting major wars didn’t have much room to judge.
"Now you sound like Methos, except I don’t think he’d ever use the phrases ‘not big with the fun’ or ‘feeling the feelings of guilt,’" said Duncan.
"There’s no need to be insulting. I, in no way, sound like his annoyingness," Buffy objected.
"Buffy and Dawn were easy. Did you know there are, not one, but three stores that sell weapons in Sunnydale? Not hunting rifles and reproductions but actual swords, axes, spears, and one place even had a mace," Duncan replied, amazed the weirdness of Sunnydale could escape the notice of the rest of the world.
"It’s not bad," Legolas conceded. Taking another sip, he added, "Once you get past the texture, it’s... good."
"See, I told you so," Dawn said triumphantly. "Would I lead you astray?"
"Yes," Legolas answered, without hesitation.
"Well, he did this thing, where--" Anya began.
Before Anya could finish her sentence, Legolas grabbed Dawn’s arm and dragged the teenager from the room. "Hey, that was just getting good!" Dawn protested as the kitchen door swung shut behind her.
"Don’t you feel even slightly ill at ease when friends share intimate details of things which should be kept...intimate?" Legolas asked.
"Uh... no," Dawn answered.
Anya, once again, stated the truth about Santa Claus, after Dawn made the mistake of asking her not to and Methos expressed curiosity. In an attempt to change the subject from creepy Christmas facts, Joe wondered aloud what Amanda was up to this year. And, that led to Methos relating a comical tale of a scheme Amanda had managed to get Duncan involved in, most of the laughs being at Duncan’s expense. Since that incident involved several costumes, it reminded Buffy of the Halloween they all turned into their costumes. And, the conversation proceeded through the meal, everyone happy they didn’t have to edit their stories for content, or be careful to avoid all mention of the strangeness in their lives.
Glancing through his Watcher’s notes, Methos started laughing hysterically.
"What’s so funny?" Buffy asked curiously. Methos handed her the papers and Buffy skimmed through them, giggled, and started reading aloud, "Older Immortal Duncan MacLeod took subject as a student. Peculiar relationship between them. Pierson does not defer to MacLeod as is usual in student/teacher relationships. Possibly a sexual relationship. Recent falling out, which seems to be mended. Lover’s quarrel?"
"Give me that," Duncan said, grabbing the papers out of Buffy’s hands. "Joe, what are they teaching Watchers in that academy of yours?"
"If it was a woman, she was probably hoping Duncan had a sexual relationship Methos," Anya put her two cents in, "I’d like to watch you two having sex." At this revelation Methos started laughing even harder, while Duncan blushed a bright red.
Duncan blinked a couple times, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably twitched upwards, then he took a deep breath and said, "Let me get this straight. You, of all people, don’t like Buffy because she acts like a normal person instead of a great hero?"
"Well, yeah. But, it’s more than that," Methos protested. "You saw her. We get news of an impending apocalypse and she barely suppresses a yawn. She finds out her ex is in trouble and suddenly she’s concerned. Her vampire-ex might I add."
"Whatever you say, Methos," Duncan said facetiously, laughing a little bit at Methos’s shattered heroic illusions.
"Hmm..." Buffy paused for a moment then asked, "How come every time we have a conversation we have to get all touchy feely and talk about our emotions and issues and stuff? Because, it’s really, really depressing. And, it’s getting kind of wiggy because I’m not usually the type to over share."
That completely unexpected question surprised a laugh out of Duncan, "I don’t know. I’m not the ‘over sharing’ type either."
"Other side of town. And, cheer up. This is going to be fun. Since, the vamps are all cleared out, I could use a good fight," Buffy said heading toward the front door. Reaching the door and noticing Methos’s not having moved from where he was standing, she added, "Come on sword boy, we don’t have all day. Besides, worst case scenario, you die and I miss lunch waiting for you to wake up."
"I took Dawn’s suggestion and stopped in at Baskins & Robbins. A very hobbit-like invention, ice-cream. I’m surprised no one in Middle-earth ever thought of such a simple thing as freezing milk, cream, and flavorings, considering the results," Legolas
explained."Ice-cream’s a better invention than automobiles?" Duncan asked, grinning in
bemusement."Anya, you’re a vengeance demon. You’ve caused murder and mayhem for hundreds of years, have probably started more fires than you can count, and you’re nearly indestructible as long as you have your necklace. How can the charred remains of a high school be creepy?" Dawn asked.
Anya, back at her apartment, tried on yet another possible outfit and stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, checking to see how it went with a sword. Giving the mirror her best intimidating look she said, "Die, evil demon scum." Tossing her hair over one shoulder and nodding to herself, Anya decided hip-hugger blue jeans and a lacy blue blouse would be appropriate demon slaying attire. And, they were both machine washable.
"Yeah, we like you too. But, if you’ve gotta go..." Buffy trailed off. Then chewing on one side of her bottom lip and giving Legolas a speculative look she said, "You’ve gotta go and I’ll never see you again, so what the heck." Then she went up on her toes, pulled the tall elf down to her and kissed him full on the lips.
Legolas hesitated for a split second. Then, embracing the ‘what the heck’ mentality, his arms went around Buffy and he deepened the kiss. The nibbling and tasting went on for quite sometime, until their audience started throat clearing and commentary. Needing to breathe, Buffy eventually broke the kiss, panting slightly.
Vegeta: The Woman's been telling me that I should help the less fortunate. So, I found this fatherless boy and took him under my wing. (Kaiba and Vegeta share matching grins.)
Kaiba: Have I learned, Vegeta-sama?
Vegeta: More than my own flesh and blood, Kaiba. It is rare that you have pleased the Prince of all Saiyans.
Mirai Trunks: Hey!
For he has accepted the position and the power that has been given to him.
For it has just saved his ass.
“I am Shinji Almighty,” Shinji Ikari thunders, “Let my Will be Done!”
And the lightning strikes Tabris just for posterity.
“I’m God, Shinji,” the man responds, “Ever since your mother first disappeared, ever since your father abandoned you, you’ve wondered if I even exist. And you’ve wondered that, if I did, if I knew what I was doing. So, I’ve decided that we should put that to the test. We’re going to try something that has not been tried before. At least, not any time in recent memory.”
“As the Lord has granted you His position, I have been selected to act as your guide to your new powers. Don’t worry about the mundane stuff for now, your subconscious has split off a portion to deal with day-to-day ‘running the cosmos’ stuff, but it’s the actual power I’m here to provide a guide for.”
“What do people who get this power usually do with a first wish?” Shinji asks, idly turning back to the kitchen and the still ranting bird.
“Invade Asia,” Metatron responds.
Bermuda, one of the few sets of islands spared the tidal waves of Second Impact.
Mainly for the beaches.
God (or He who was Once Known as God and is on Vacation for a Month) lies on a beach chair, still clad in his white suit, hands cradling his head as he stairs out at the setting
sun.“Admit it. The sunsets are beautiful.”
“Yes, they’re wonderful. Can we focus on the fact that absolute power has been handed to a neurotic with a severe Oedipus complex?”
Shinji Almighty, Gregg Landsman
However interesting it might be to watch, the last thing he needed was two ninja in combat against a demolitions expert. He knew a bomb specialist when he saw one, even if it was of an entirely different style than what he was familiar with. Even if he ignored the explosives, the simple word ‘thermal’ sufficiently unnerved him. Adding it to ‘scythe’ really didn’t help matters.
“See?” Duo teased. “It’s a piece of cake.”
“Just try not to blow us up,” Kakashi returned, not above taunting the boy back.
“Reading that book of yours and you’re lecturing me on ‘blowing up’?” Duo asked innocently. Kakashi almost tripped.
“And you’re calling ME a pervert?”
“Are we going to have to listen to this for the next week?” Sakura asked, trying to interrupt the conversation before it became truly frightening.
“Are you people listening to me? I don’t need to know any of this! Just point at something and tell me to blow it up,” Naruto complained. “I agreed to help you defeat the Unification of the Nymphomaniacs…”
“Organization of the Zodiac,” Trowa smirked.
How should I know? I’m the God of Death, not your damn chauffeur! Shinigami retorted. Go do something useful like put a poison technique on your toad to make him psychedelic. I’ll consider that, Naruto thought, rather amused by the idea.
Unfortunately, the topic of the current argument had escalated to almost deafening levels thanks to Sakura. The topic of the argument, sadly enough, was Sasuke.
“I may not have breasts, but my ass is tighter,” Duo said cheerfully.
“SASUKE IS NOT ATTRACTED TO MEN! ESPECIALLY NOT YOU!” Sakura screamed.
Kakashi was torn between snickering at Sasuke’s discomfort, blushing at the images the comment brought to mind, and being stupefied that the God of Death was an absolute pervert. Aside from sheer perversion, he was just downright evil to have done what he did to Itachi. He had scared the man so badly that he actually messed himself, then deliberately made him think that fear turned him on. Now, the winged god was hitting on Sasuke and had even backed him up against a tree with a lecherous look while the boy was sputtering for a response to the ‘pounding’ comment. Kakashi was suddenly glad that Sakura wasn’t awake to see this.
And then, as if his life didn’t suck enough already, he had to suffer the psychological horror of knowing that Jiraiya and Duo would be in the same room, the hermit with his liquor and the psycho with his blow darts of the aphrodisiac. A drunken Duo and an even hornier version of Jiraiya. How could this possibly get any worse?
Between the two of them, Kakashi had suffered a nervous breakdown and vanished from public view. It was believed by most of Kohana that he had taken some lengthy mission to stay clear of the pair, but the truth of the matter was that he had taken refuge at Iruka’s apartment and was currently hiding in a closet, refusing to come out.
“Heero is an ass,” the blond stated.
“So is Sasuke,” Duo countered. Naruto cocked his head, grinning like a loon.
“Do you have an equivalent to Sakura?” the ninja asked.
“A psycho-chick in pink hunting down the man without emotions?” Duo asked, already looking far too amused. “Her name’s Relena.”
Sounding like Jiraiya and Heero at the same time was somehow mortifying and brain numbing all at once.
“If he’s lucky,” Sasuke growled, advancing on his bound brother. The elder Uchiha’s eyes went comically large. Snagging the man by his tied wrists, he vanished in a blast of smoke to do unthinkable things to his older brother to avenge his family.
“You both suck,” Naruto growled at them, rolling his eyes.
“I don’t know,” Duo grinned. “I have been known to blow on occasion.”
“And gargle,” Jiraiya added helpfully.
“STOP!” Naruto roared before they could continue. He did not need to be hearing this. “Perverts.” Both of the longhaired troublemakers just laughed at him. “Besides, you should either be training or working on your entry point contraceptive thing.”
“Energy phase conversion field,” Duo corrected, grinning. Jiraiya was laughing uproariously at the mistake. Seconds after denouncing them as perverts yet again, he made a comment far worse than either of them had uttered, using a few words so vulgar that would make a sailor blush with shame.
“What was it?” Kakashi asked eagerly, a little disappointed he hadn’t gotten to see.
“An almost naked woman with breasts twice the size of hers,” he said, jerking his thumb back at Tsunade. “And she kept bouncing. I don’t know how she didn’t fall out of the string like thing that she was using as her ‘shirt’.”
“Turn it back on!” Kakashi and Naruto yelled in tandem.
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” Sasuke groused.
“Funny. From the way I see it, you’re surrounded by perverts,” Tsunade corrected him.
“Buster, Heero!” An enormous gun was lofted towards the cobalt-eyed teen, causing him to curse loudly and lurch to catch it before it landed.
“Machine gun, Tro-tro!” Eye twitching at the nickname, he gracefully caught the weapon lobbed at him.
“Pulse rifle, Wufei!” Duo warned the distracted Chinese pilot who was currently studying his new swords. He managed to look up in time to snag the new weapon out of the air before it left a dent in his skull.
“Then what’s the rest of this crap?” Jiraiya demanded, his duffle bag not yet having been touched.
“Things that go boom,” Duo answered cheerfully. “I plan on leaving them just about everywhere, timed to go off in intervals that will tick off Oz to the greatest possible extent and create enough damage to prove a point.”
“That you’re deranged?” Wufei asked sarcastically.
“Well, I knew that,” Duo chuckled.
“Detected, my ass,” Duo countered. “They have cameras in here, twit! Jiraiya, if you would be so kind?” Grinning, the white-haired sannin happily mooned the camera in the corner of the room, waggling his butt happily for all to see. Duo smirked. “Now that security, as well as anyone in the room watching, is now blind, could one of you kindly blow out the door?”
“Steel?” Tsunade asked, pulling back one fist.
“Probably a bit tougher. Put some gusto into it,” Duo sniggered.
Following his directions precisely, the sannin put her full strength into the punch, slamming the door off its hinges and sending it across the hall and through the other side of the hall, probably further after hearing the following crunch of walls being destroyed. Duo nodded in appreciation.
“And if he doesn’t surrender, trust me, I can do more than my share of damage,” Naruto added on amiably. “Have you ever seen what a hundred of us can do with Rasengan?”
“No, and I don’t want to,” Duo muttered. “Not until I’m long beyond L3.”
“That was just some idle speculation on what was originally intended to be a prank. Besides, it only took out half of the country,” he said. “I’m talking weapons now, and I have some really cool ones.”
“Cool ones?” Treize parroted as if in a trance.
“Yeah! The fusion-fission grenade will be a blast! No pun intended,” Duo snickered.
“Oh hell, I surrender too,” Zechs said.
Worlds Apart, Mieren
Lost and confused, Kenshin just shook his head and said the first thing that came to him naturally.
“Nothing doing,” the teenager grumped. “No money, no services. Look, if you can’t pay me, I’m leaving you here, lady.”
“ORO! I’m not a woman, de gozaru!”
“Then why are you dressed in pink?”
“I like pink,” Kenshin muttered.
“Why me?” he grumbled darkly, lifting the tiny form by the back of his shirt and partially dragging him as he headed back towards the castle. He would make sure that the little guy wasn’t injured seriously then toss him in the alley to rot. On his trek back, he made no effort to prevent bouncing Kenshin’s skull against various objects as they passed, like rocks, trees and other pedestrians. “Stupid conscience,” he complained.
“You have been chosen,” he said suddenly, beaming again. “I expected a priestess to be sent to us, but if Suzaku selected a priest, so be it.”
Kenshin listened to him, horribly confused. At the mention of the phoenix god, he said the most intelligent thing he could muster.
The two shared a smile before following Hotohori into the castle. He was still spouting nonsense about prophecies, gods and past priestesses. Nuriko rolled his eyes and made a gagging gesture while Hotohori wasn’t watching. Kenshin grinned at him and nodded his agreement.
Saito followed him warily, taking the time to glare at the guards, who looked extremely nervous of his presence. Smirking, he followed the blond, satisfied with his work. His day wasn’t complete until he had traumatized a total stranger.
Hotohori beamed, thrilled that Kenshin seemed interested in what he was saying. Nuriko promptly mimicked him, throwing Kenshin a look that bordered between undying love and raging lust. Kenshin was seriously considering throwing something and might have had Hotohori not distracted him by answering his question.
In the middle of the crowd, curled protectively around the bag of gold on the end of the rope, was Tamahome. Unconscious. A large red welt ran vertically the length of his face from the force of the whipped rope, running directly across the kanji on his forehead. Nuriko smirked. Kenshin snickered.
Finally, he snorted, deciding that it was better to ignore the fanged idiot now so as to scare the life out of him later. He momentarily paused to consider that he had been spending way too much time around Sano if he was seriously considering scaring some innocent bystander out of his mind. Another few moments of deliberation found him not caring that he was going to be shortening the teen’s lifespan by several years. It would be funny.
Perking up, Kenshin jogged easily into the darkness towards where he thought he had heard the voice. Not entirely sure of his bearings, he called out again.
“But I must know one thing, na no da.”
“De gozaru, no da?”
“No da, de gozaru?” Kenshin countered.
“Oro, na no da?” Chichiri asked, his voice quivering with amusement. Kenshin’s eyes lit up with unholy glee.
“Na no gozaru,” he said firmly, hard-pressed to keep a straight face as he began slurring the phrases together. A bark of laughter escaped Chichiri.
“De no gozaru da!”
Since Chichiri had joined the group, he and Kenshin made it a point to only speak to each other with the weird little phrases that drove everyone else insane, mostly because no one could figure out what the two were talking about. Strangely enough, the two bubbleheads seemed to understand each other perfectly, their odd little minds completely in sync. To prove that they seemed to think with one mind, they both casually leaned to the side as the hurled stone flew by at a velocity that wouldn’t be out of place on something leaving the planet’s orbit.
“Yeah, her,” Tasuki snapped. “What’d you expect? Us to stuff a guy in drag and try to pass him off as a priestess?”
A lot of muffled snickering followed the remark from all of the gathered males with the exception of Kenshin. The diminutive redhead was a bit disconcerted by the thought of wearing a dress in a religious ceremony. Immediately following the thought came the mental image of Saito in a frilly blue dress over the top of a stuffed bra and he was caught between laughter and a massive chill down his spine. The resultant noise from his throat made him sound rather like he was choking on a hedgehog.
Chichiri retaliated the following morning, unwilling to be shown up. Using his staff and a series of quick spells muttered under his breath, he managed to convince every male rodent within a hundred miles that Amiboshi smelled like a female in heat. Now, you haven’t lived a full life until you’ve seen a hyped up, horny ass squirrel use someone’s head like a racetrack while the owner of said noggin runs around like a maniac until colliding with a tree at roughly mach two. This, naturally, knocked Amiboshi out yet again.
"Then my rival, a man much more dangerous than you could imagine, will have access to Seiryu. Either way, one of us gets access to a god," Kenshin said. He brightened up just as quickly, almost as though his scary spell had never taken place. "So, what's it going to be? Me, or someone that even I find scary?"
"We're all doomed, aren't we?" Mitsukake asked Hotohori.
Mysterious Rurouni, Mieren
“Yes, Jedi Jade,” Ron saluted with an imaginary Lightsaber, causing Mara to take a double take.
“Stoppable, you really do need to stop hanging around Skywalker so much …” she said, shaking her head and walking out of the kitchen.
“Kim, giving in to temptation like that is a quick and easy way to the Dark Side,” Luke scolded.
“With all due respect, Master Skywalker,” Kim smiled back at the Jedi Master. “Am I wearing a funny robe? Is there a laser sword on my belt? Nope, I can dark all I want and not worry!” she said winking at him before changing course for the Solo’s home.
“And then … And then he was like … hanging by his underpants on a Bantha horn, screaming ‘KP! GET ME DOWN! PLEASE GET ME DOWN!’ I got him down alright …” Kim laughed from the dinner table, everyone getting a good laugh from her stories, with the exception of Ron, who was sulking and blushing.
“You used a BLASTER to shoot holes in my UNDERWEAR, Kimberly!” Ron scolded his childhood friend, only to get more laughs from everyone, to the point Han slipped out of his chair on to the floor laughing.
“Hey! I didn’t miss and it got you down didn’t it?”
“Kim, it’s like you said on the ship, I dragged you and the boys half way around the galaxy. Your parents were pretty high on the social ladder back on Tatooine, and I took you from that,” Ron sighed, looking up to meet her eyes, “You were better off without MMPH!”
Ron’s eyes widened when he realized that KP, Kim Possible, his childhood best friend was kissing him full on the mouth. “M-me … um what was I saying?” Ron finished as Kim pulled back.
“I … I’m sorry, Ron,” Kim said sheepishly, turning crimson. “I actually wanted to slap you to make you stop degrading yourself … I … I’m not sure what came over me …”
“That really beat a slap,”
"Gee, ya think, Master?" Ron smirked down at the small Rodent-like Jedi.
"Smart Jedi, our Order needs," the small bucktooth Jedi glared up, "Too many smartass Jedi it has already."
"You're trapped, little Jedi," Darth Shego smirked down at the rodent-like Knight, "You'll never escape."
"Intending to, I am not," Rue Fus said spinning his double-sided lightsaber taking a defensive stance, "Strike me down, and more powerful then you can imagine will I become."
"Really?" Darth Shego asked, mock-interested, "Ok!" She hissed bringing her claws downward.
“Come on, Master Skywalker,” Ron shrugged, “It’s not like Darth Shego let me go on purpose then let us back on board also on purpose just to have us walk right into a trap, right?” Ron blinked at the stare the Jedi Master gave him. “Oh right, that probably is it, nail on the head, huh? Drat.”
“We’re in luck then,” Luke shook his head, “Walking blindly into death traps and coming out in almost one piece is our specialty.”
Star Wars: Knights of the New Republic Episode I, Classic Cowboy
Whatever,” Jack groaned, “The point is, I saw you could use some help, so I thought I’d come over and help my baby bro out a little.” The man chuckled as he stepped out of the shadows, showing snow white bleached skin, bright green hair, and a really broad toothy grin. He was wearing a purple and yellow suit and a stringy tie, with a yellow flower over his front pocket. “We might even get a good laugh!”
Shego got a glimpse of the stranger. “YOU!” she half screamed, stumbling out of the chair before crawling backwards toward Drakken in fear.
“Your brother is … your brother is … your brother is …” Shego stuttered, repeating that phrase over and over.
“Yes, Shego,” Drakken rolled his eyes, “He’s a real Joker huh?”
Superboy flew at Cinderblock at full speed only to be smacked like a baseball by the side of the Redbird. All of the Teen Titans stopped and stared fearfully. “Ohcraphe’sdoneitnow!” Kid Flash gasped, biting into the side of his thumb.
“That. Was. My car.” Robin growled, letting his cloak-like cape drape around his shoulders.
“Oh was it?” Cinderblock growled, taking the heavily damaged custom sports car and crushing it as if it was a soda can.
Robin’s eyes narrowed dangerous and shrugged the cape back. “That. Was my. Car.”
“It’s over,” Cyborg stated, changing his arm back from a canon.
“Yup,” Beast Boy said walking to stand beside him, “Poor guy … rest in peace, dude.”
“More like pieces,” Raven said in her usual emotionless tone.
Lex glanced around at the stunned DEO agents, “You heard me. You’re all fired.”
“You can’t do that!” The Agent that was still pinned down by Kim growled at the President.
“I’m the President of the United States of America, I can do whatever I damn well chose,” Lex growled, “As for you you’re not fired yet. You report to your superior, the one who decided to clear an attack on an innocent couple, in broad daylight, IN A CHURCH, to report to me bright and early Monday at Washington. After you do that. You’re fired.”
Knights, Classic Cowboy
Naruto just stared as the dwarf sheathed the blade, rewrapped it, and held it out to him. Naruto took it, his mind still not registering the honor that this must be, to be given the greatest weapon the King of the Dwarves had ever forged.
Naruto never bowed to anyone.
But he would have done so then, if something else hadn’t surfaced in his mind, causing him to blurt out,
“I don’t know how to use a sword!”
The sword smith Opreiner was deeply envious of Naruto for having been given the finest sword that Ironforge had ever created. He showed a multitude of different style swords to Naruto, who was surprised that dwarves could use blades that could be nearly twice as tall as them.
Then he thought of Zabuza and the shark freak, Kisame.
They laughed and joked for hours, both dwarves getting progressively drunker, and both Naruto and Furnizzle getting increasingly sure that one dwarf or the other would reveal latent homosexual tendencies. However, some of the things the dwarves blurted out made both gnome and human nearly fall out of their seats in laughter.
Geez, you wouldn’t think such festive looking little creatures would be so uptight… THEY ARE AT WAR. WAR ALWAYS CHANGES PEOPLE. Can’t argue with that… I WONDER HOW THEY TASTE…
What made Naruto really interested, however, was that all the suits were probably the best color that anything could have possible have been.
They were almost the exact shade of orange as Naruto’s old jacket (which he still missed greatly) and were slightly reminiscent of the body suits that both Lee and Gai wore. But orange.
Even he’d wear clothes like the Green Beast of Konoha’s if they were orange.