Non-Canon AU: Ghosts

Beck was dead.

This must be clearly understood, or nothing that happens next will make sense.

It had happened last year - suddenly, and from a source that nobody had expected. The question of how Ivan of the Magpies got a hold of the weaponry he'd carted back to his superiors had been a lingering question in everyone's minds, and it was swiftly and horribly answered when Tremor of the Black Dragon appeared as if from nowhere and levelled half of South Vegas. In the resulting skirmish that followed, the Kobbers had been hideously beaten by the geomancer, whose powers had been slowly approaching those of a deity due to past events, and it seemed as though he could just not be brought down by anything that was thrown at him.

The sudden and awful twist ending came when Beck, spitting sparks and furious beyond measure, had leaped at Tremor just as he had been winding up to smash somebody around the head with a fist of solid granite.

The crunch of a shattering AI Core would forever be ingrained in the minds of the people present.

Tremor had then fled, leaving the others to realize what had happened. Then the panic had set in, and Beck's mangled body had been rushed back to the K.O.B. in what basically amounted to a spare wheelbarrow someone had conveniently found lying about. There was a mix of horrible tension and vague hope as the gadgeteers and scientists studied the remains of what had once been their former comrade and spunky, heroic ally. Surely, they reasoned, he could be restored? What were the Kobbers if they couldn't bring someone back from a fate as horrific as this - they'd come back from worse, hadn't they?

All hope died when Doctor Light turned to everyone assembled and shook his head.

There was nothing to recover. The AI Core had been pulverized, and the Xel system had no means of reconstructing the very thing that told them to form a body to begin with. Even if they could recover anything, there wouldn't be anything that was Beck to put in a new body or restore - the same personality, but none of the memory or experience. Doctor Light did not believe in keeping personality backups, as evidenced by his refusal to restore Rush two years ago, and he hadn't the hand-eye co-ordination anymore to recreate the systems he'd forged the body from.

For all intents and purposes... Beck Light was dead.

Permadead.

The realization settled in like sea-fog; slow, but cold and bitter, and everyone took it badly in one way or another. Jewel Man broke down into hysterical sobbing and had to be comforted by an equally tearful Rock, Crash and Splash Woman. Sarah had sobbed quietly, and the rest of her week had been spent in mournful silence, not even touching her pancakes at breakfast. Kevin and Jin had promised to pay tribute to him in a special episode, touched by how he had gone down fighting. And even David, who didn't give a shit about much else, poured himself a drink in memory of the robot - although he immediately forgot why after he'd downed it.

But none took it harder than Ash. Beck had been practically like a second child to him, and the moment he'd heard about what was essentially the murder of a close ally, something dark and shocking erupted from within the Godslayer. A kind of cold, silent rage enveloped him, and he'd turned and left the bar without so much as saying a word. The only news anyone had of him was at the end of that week, when news reports came of an entire army descending upon the south quadrant of Vegas where the Black Dragon made their lair.

There wasn't enough left of Tremor to fill a tuna can.

Ash had been banished to the couch for a month. Even Sam had to admit that it had been rather extreme.

They held a funeral on the next day. It had been so long since they had held a funeral, since barely anyone died amongst the Kobbers like this, that it felt strange and dark. Rock spoke of how proud he was to have a son like Beck, and that he would not wish for any other, not even as a replacement. Ash had quietly spoken of the boy's enthusiasm, willingness to learn and unyielding sense of justice. Melody - the doll - had begun to say something, then broken down and had to be escorted to a back room. Then the single pen drive that contained what remained of Beck's programming was lowered into the dusty earth of Nevada, as all present recited the traditional rites mechanically and dully.

It was going to be a long year. And one of their own wouldn't be around to help.

Non-Canon Silliness 4: Dirk Design Desicions

WARNING: The following contains large amounts of #Butts, and may not be suitable for certain readers. It is also not canon and extremely silly, and thus has no actual bearing on the Zoofights RP Timeline.

With that said, enjoy! 

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"I am uncertain about this new body design, Dirk."

There was a sentence that encapsulated Dirk Angelos in his entireity. A generally good soul overall, he nevertheless had an enthusiasm that somewhat overrode common sense, and a lot of his endeavours ran the gamut from 'unneccesary' to 'just plain crazy', fueled by the kind of testosterone that would make a rhinoceros cry foul. It was still uncertain of where on that scale starting his own robotics and clothing company would fit, and even as he began to put out ads and put together actual working models for purchase, it was a clear that more research was needed to determine how crazy this plan of his was.

However, Dawn Cosine, looking at the new body she'd ordered a week or two ago, was beginning to see a few telltale warning signs.

Original Art by zdemian

"Something seems... off," she explained, twisting around to look at the new chassis from many angles.

Predator (NSFW)

WARNING: The following post contains horror themes and material that certain readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.  

"Daddy...?"

The man stared from within the doorway of the freezer room, eyes wide with fear, rifle clutched in trembling hands.

"What the hell have you done...?" he gasped.

Stand By Me

WARNING: The following post contains material that certain readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

~AUSTRALIA, EARTH ZF-02~

Approx. Twenty Years in the Future...

"Bee?"

"Yeah, Vee?"

The fire crackled, a badly-applied splat of scarlet and orange against the inky black canvas of the desert sand. The sky above was not quite dark, the last flickers of an evening sun daubing the edge of the horizon in duck-egg blue that faded to navy. Stars dotted the plane like the painter of this ongoing metaphor has lost all patience and was now just randomly flicking his brush at his own easel in frustration with the world in general. And, at the very edge of the splat, sat two figures - one blond, the other brunet, lazily draped within the back seat of a mud-splattered car of unidentifiable make.

The brunet, Vee, had turned open, honest green eyes towards his companion, Bee, as he spoke. His voice was the voice of the quiet, gentle European boy down the road who helped with the shopping, and should not have come from what looked like a wind-battered drifter, sand and grit stuck in his spiky brown hair. He looked too young - both did, somewhere in the awkward transition between teens and adulthood. And yet their dishevelled appearance granted them the look of people who had been dealt a bum hand in the great poker game of life, and had no choice but to keep plowing through the dirt to carry on.

"You ever wonder how long we've been doing this?" Vee continued.

Cubic

The following is a response to the story posted by FormerVengeance here, as well as the various follow-ups. Also, be warned that it may change with future installations.

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"You've been on a cube kick recently, Carol."

Carol grunted, but didn't turn around. Sine wasn't wrong, though - most of the things running around the TARDIS looked like they had been cut from cubes, or had been cube-shaped some time ago. A reddish, eagle-shaped creature whistled as it flew in circles around the central column, follwed closely by a white-and-black, angular tiger, whilst a yellow, squared-off lion and a boxy green elephant pushed against each other, trumpeting and snarling irritably. Some might have suspected the technopath had been foiled by a Rubik's Cube at some point, and this was her way of taking vengeance upon the obtuse nature of the puzzle.

The problem was, she'd been like this ever since the adventure to save Ceneric. And it was all too obvious why Carol was doing this.

Rule of Three: Escalation

It was a lovely, sunny April day in Las Vegas.

And it had started off with Kamen Rider OOO being tackled through a twenty-five-story window.

So, nothing out of the ordinary, then.

Morons vs Wild 2: The Wildening

WARNING: The following post contains material that certain readers may find upsetting. Reader discretion is advised.

-------ASH'S WORLD-------

The whole thing started when Sam, walking through the forest near Oriam, was pounced upon by a giant spider.

"AAARGH SHIT FUCK BALLS," he screamed as the thing tackled him off his feet, winding all eight legs tightly around his body and pinning his arms against his sides. The swearing continued as he hit the ground, and went on as he jerked his head this way and that, barely dodging the sharp, slavering fangs that kept missing his face by mere millimetres. Sheer panic prevented him from remembering he could have just set himself on fire to escape this predicament, and thus he spent a good half a minute writhing and kicking in the dirt, the spider's weight keeping from rolling upright.

Of course, his salior talk served as the perfect beacon to anyone close by.

"HOLD ON, SAM!"

Sam didn't even see who was approaching until Erdrick had already been driven through the spider's body, the point poking him in the chest by accident. The beast shrieked, convulsed for a moment, and then went limp, the legs losing their grip around the Uberman's body as the life rapidly went out of it. The moment he felt that happening, Sam flexed his arms, pushing the limbs away from him, and threw the corpse of the creature off as he scrambled to his feet, letting off one last torrent of expletives as he went.

Then something grabbed his arm, and he screamed, picturing some worse animal-

"Sam, SAM."

That was Ash's voice. Even in the midst of a heart attack, Sam would know it anywhere.

"It's fine, we're here. It's deader than dead."

And there was Erdrick - his mother's voice, of course, which was still weird, but soothing enough for Sam to get a grip on himself. Whilst he babbled to a stop, gasping for air and clutching his chest, the other man knelt down and produced something akin to a small towel as he began cleaning the foul, pale ichor off of Erdrick's blade. It took some time for the former Destined Hero to get his breath back and put the past events in proper seqence, so he could find the right questions to ask about what just happened.

Thankfully, only one came to mind.

"...what was that?!" he nearly shrieked, pointing at the dead spider.