Nude Bob Dole/Crusader admits to being a bastard and will be playing as Bright Noa from the Mobile Suit Gundam/Super Robot Wars series and will not be bringing along an assist. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and no homo.
?Lucent admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Roger Smith from the Big O series and will be bringing along an assist, BIG O because it’s Showtime, Baby! I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and SHOWTIME!. Peace, god bless, and memories.?
Krizak admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Aya Brea from Parasite Eve. I will be bringing along an assist, Daniel Dollis, also from Parasite Eve. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, the Light Side, the Dark Side, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and may the Force be with you.
?JSG admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Duela Dent from Teen Titans and will not be bringing along an assist. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and no homo.?
NeoSeifer/Ashilyn admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Mai Tokiha from Mai-HiME and will be bringing along an assist, GaoGaiGar from King Of Braves: GaoGaiGar/Super Robot Wars. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and no homo.
DUELA DENT
Appearance
There aren’t many pictures of Duela, but it’s not like she has a complicated design. White skin, red hair, purple suit revealing just the right amount of flesh.
She’s the one that looks kinda like a girl Joker.
And more.
And lastly, this one.
History
No one really knows Duela’s history, even herself.
What is known is that she came onto the New Gotham metahuman scene claiming that the Joker was her father, even using the alias Joker’s Daughter, committing comedy-theme crimes much like her father’s. After being stopped by Batman, she was sent away only to escape again and assume the alias of Duela Dent, the daughter of Two-Face.
Things like this would keep happening, always claiming to be the daughter of a supervillain, though after a while she began to start helping the Teen Titans, saying it was to try and make up for the crimes her parents committed. She admitted to being the daughter of Harvey Dent and that the rest of the gimmicks were just to get attention, but it’s since been disproven. Truly believing that she was Two-Face’s daughter, she wouldn’t accept that and eventually suffered a mental breakdown, all of the personalities and alter-egos she’d been using coming out at once until the Titans were forced to admit her to Arkham Asylum, where she’d been for the past year.
She spends her days locked up, usually telling the other patients how any day now the Titans or her father will come to get her. She is under the care of the psychiatrist Doctor Jesse Custer, though it seems she only gets worse during her time in Arkham, not better.
Skills and Abilities
Duela has no metahuman skills of her own, though she’s at peak physical condition for a woman of her build, and skilled at acrobatics. Mostly she fights with weapons, rather than powers, mixed in with her own acrobatic nature. When in physical combat, her movements are random, almost dance-like, and she’s always talking, about anything at all, whether to distract the opponent or simply because she’s crazy isn’t important.
Some of her weapons include a flower pin on her shirt that sprays Scarecrow-style fear gas, explosive slinkies, and silly string tasers, a punch-glove jack in the box, and bladed pogs. Clearly most of her fighting style was inspired by her time as Joker’s Daughter.
In other words, just think of fighting Harley Quinn and you’re not far off here.
Personality
Duela is not a mentally healthy woman at all.
Delusional and schizophrenic, what’s true to her one second may strike her as completely outlandish the next. One thing most people wonder about her is who her parents actually are. Many times she’ll threaten someone with “You can’t kill me. Don’t you know who my daddy is?” and it’s always a different answer, always a dangerous supervillain. Much like one of the men she claims is her father, she is usually smiling or laughing, seemingly happy on the outside despite being a complete mess underneath.
The word to describe Duela is fickle. Interaction with her can be frustrating ever since her breakdown, she could be your friend one second and attack you the next time you meet her. She could be madly in love with a man and then five minutes later leave him because she’s into women. Often she’ll be an antagonist only to switch sides and help the heroes, unsure of whether she’s supposed to be a villain or not.
Despite this, there are a few constants about Duela that should be noted, as those would probably play into how she acts when someone meets her. The first is that she loves jokes. The second is that she is desperate to find an identity of her own, having lost her’s long ago. And the last is that she wants a place to belong, with people that accept her as friends, feeling abandoned by her parents who pay no attention to her (mostly because she isn’t actually thier daughter). If someone actually does befriend her she will often find herself returning to that person (or group of people).
In short, Duela’s just a sick woman who needs a hug.
What did he know?
What did that bastard know about her?
Nothing. That’s what the white-skinned girl of nineteen thought as she lay in an uncomfortable spring cot situated on the edge of a small stone room in direct contrast to the pristine hallway across that big steel door. He doesn’t know anything about me! Nothing! Saying I don’t have a father. OF COURSE I DO! Jumping to a sitting position, she banged head against the cold grey wall behind her. “I have a dad. He’s the Shredder…” she said to herself quietly, her bare foot reaching across the tiled floor, poking gently at a scurrying cockroach on the ground.
It was like this every night, she would always just lay there, listening to everyone saying there was something wrong with her, whether it was that blonde doctor that would periodically check up on her, or the one-eyed Texan that she always got passed off to. They’d tell her she was broken, delusional, apparently she had something called schizophrenia, but she didn’t know what that meant other than “crazy,” and the girl knew she wasn’t crazy. Even Psycho Pirate in the room next to her keeps saying she’s not normal. He tells her she’s just closer to the truth than everyone else. Every single night he rants about it. Multiverses and ideas, nothing Duela Dent can understand, nothing anyone can understand - the ravings of a mental patient.
“You’re not the goddamn Shredder’s daughter!” came a male voice from the vent on the wall. The vents, they go to every room, every cell, pumping out clean, cool air to make these people they’re holding feel more like patients than inmates. It doesn’t work, nobody buys it. Sitting there in their orange jumpsuits, who the hell thought they’d ever think they were anything else?
“I AM!” Duela shouted into the vent at the top of her lungs. “I am I am I am!” At this point the bottom of a chalk-white fist was banging against the wall with every iteration of the phrase. The steady flow of air pouring out went past her lips, she could feel her mouth every so slowly drying, she didn’t care. They’d bring her some water if she complained enough.
She could still easily hear that voice answering her through all the cries of “Shut up, bitch!” echoing through the vents. “You can’t be, you stupid asshole,” said the voice, that condescending, know-it-all voice. She’d spoken to him before, many times, he was always vocal, liked to hear himself talk. Annoying is what he was. “Shredder wasn’t even around twenty years ago, you can’t be his damn kid!” the disembodied voice of the criminal known as Bullseye called to her. “And besides, just yesterday you were saying you were Megatron’s daughter. So just shut up about all this shit and take your goddamn pills.”
Duela’s lips contorted, twitching in annoyance when Bullseye - Bullseye - was calling her insane. And what was he talking about? “Megatron?” she asked, scratching her head through that vibrant red hair of her’s. “Megatron’s a machine, stupid! Why would I ever say he’s my dad?”
“Because you’re a nutfuck,” he answered, “And don’t even pretend you don’t remember this, it wasn’t even a full day ago.”
She shook her head, the thought that he couldn’t see her not even crossing the woman’s mind, “No. I didn’t. Stop making things up, that’s libel!”
“Slander,” replied a female voice, forcing it’s way into the conversation just to correct her. “Not libel. And it’s only slander if it’s not true.”
Duela sunk into the soft matress beneath her, laying her face against the warm white sheet and pulling the pillow over her head. Muffled cries of “I’m not crazy” repeating as she tried to drown out all the voices. She hated those vents, those damned voices always coming through them, she can’t get them out of her head, out of her ears, they’re always there.
Perhaps that’s why everyone thought she was insane, she was being driven to the edge of lucidity from lack of sleep, always being awakened by some innane conversation between the patients they kept imprisoned here. Everybody shut up, she thought to herself as she bit down on the sheet, tired of so many insinuating that she belonged locked up in here.
Turning to her side, she saw the true face of Arkham Asylum right out of her door, not that rosy facade they put on for visitors. Beady eyes from one of the guards, he’ll say he was checking on her if asked, because of all the yelling. They always used that as an excuse to stare at the women here with the lust-filled eyes of a rapist. She’d often hear the females they kept here sobbing through that damned vent, saying what the guards did to them simply because they could. She pressed her legs against one another almost instinctively and stared at him until he left.
All Duela know was that she had to get out of this hellhole before she went so insane that she’d even admit it. She had to get out of this cell. This cockroach-infest, noisy cell with the solid walls, the iron door, the constant noises, and those eyes that look in at her. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the flourescent light that she didn’t have any control over as it flickered off. Lights out in Arkham Asylum. Like she could sleep. Turning it off every night at ten o’clock was just a cruel joke the staff plays on the prisoners.
Rubbing her palms against her eyes, she listened to all the chatter she couldn’t block out, dozens of voices mixing with each other to form an illegible chorus of words and laughter that seemed to boar straight into her brain. She let out a scream through her clenched teeth as slammed her heels onto the bed. At least that damn Psycho Pirate is gone, the girl thought to herself, trying to feel better about all the shit she was going through. How did I even get here?
And she lay there with her. Still. The freezing breeze pouring out of that accursed vent over her body, she finally moved to pull the covers higher up onto herself to keep that artificial wind from her bare face. She thought back to her time with the Teen Titans, how they decided to help her. Oh, right. That’s how. Friends, they called themselves. Robin, Raven, Squall, Cyborg, Shikamaru, Dazzler - her “friends.”
Fuck them all, they said she was unstable, crazy. They’re the ones that got her into this mess. She went to write herself a note to do something about them when she got out of here - My dad will get me out of here, he always gets out himself… - but she remembered she didn’t have a pad, or a pen. They didn’t let her have pens, too dangerous, she could use them to kill herself. The woman in orange had no idea why they insisted she was suicidal, she never thought of killing herself before. These bastards just treated everyone the same anyway, it didn’t matter what they had wrong with them.
She screamed as loud as she could. It carried throughout the hospital, her loud, long cry. How long had she been here? The time got blurry, but it couldn’t have been less than half a year since she was brought through that goddamn steel door for the first time, and it all became too much. All she could do was scream. Scream and kick and bang her hands and head against the wall. If she wasn’t crazy before, this place was certainly doing it’s best to change that. And if she weren’t crazy before, this is when it would have succeeded.
And it drew another pair of eyes as the rest of the inmates began to yell for her to shut up. This set not the scary eyes of the lowly guard but the rather beautiful and inviting blue eyes of the former god of fear, Jonathan Crane. He was the director of Arkham Asylum, despite being one of the most insane men in all of New Gotham. Just another statement about the fucked upstate of affairs of how this place works. He simply watched her there for five full minutes his head turned. “She isn’t stopping, restrain her and schedule her to see Doctor Custer as soon as he’s available,” the man said to someone as she heard the locks on the door being undone.
As the door creaked open, there he was with his curled black hair and fancy suit, standing with his hands behind his back as the two women who were always with him walked in. The blonde one, Juni, carrying a grey straightjacket to her while the other woman, Juli, physically restrained the patient. Quickly, they worked together to slip Duela into the binding attire and tightly fasten all of the straps to keep her from harming herself before the brunette reached into the pocket of her white coat and pulled out a syringe, injecting a tranquilizer into Duela’s neck. She was well on the road to rehabilitation now.
She struggled against the jacket as the women closed the door, but she was at least able to get out of the bed and run to the door just as it shut. She looked at the director and began to bite her lip. “I don’t belong here, let me out!” she shouted as he adjusted his glasses before turning to walk off, giving her a look with his piercing eyes that would get any woman to forget their troubles and get lost in the beauty of his face. But this particular woman was past the point of caring about anything like that, she just wanted out. “Come on!” she cried out as he walked out of her line of sight through the door’s narrow window. “If it’s about the whole Joker thing, don’t feel bad. That was a lie!” she told him. She had no idea if he was still there but she kept at it anyway. “I was just trying to get close to him to stop him! We both know I’m really yours, Daddy! That was just an act. It was just… If you’re mad about that I can go back to being Scarecrone! I’ll make you proud of me!”
No response at all from Crane. None. She looked around, turning her head and moving her shoulders and feet, looking out of the tiny hole from every possible angle she could manage and she couldn’t see him. She began to laugh. “Funny,” she said, her giggling turning into a loud laughter. “That’s funny, daddy! I play a joke on you and say I’m Joker’s Daughter, and you get me back with this gag…” She began to cackle hysterically. But now the joke’s over… I get it!" It was hard to talk between the breaths and the laughing. “We both know I don’t belong here, Daddy. Just let me out… We had a good laugh about this, but now it’s over! Now I’m… I’m…”
He was gone by now, but that wasn’t why she stopped. She could feel that syrum they shot her up with taking effect as her legs became weak and her eyes became heavy. Her cries were being muffled as she slowly turned, pressing her back against the door and sliding down to the ground until she fell onto the tiled floor, oblivious to everything around her, drifting out of consciousness for a much welcome escape from Arkham, if only for a few scant hours.
Duela’s not open for interaction just yet
The Great Cats Village 2005 - Melty Blood Act Cadenza Version B OST
"Ah, isn’t it another lovely day in the Great Cats Village."
As Neco Arc Chaos pops out of the ground in this weird alternate universe, pulling out a cigarette and igniting it with his breath.
“Ah, I wonder what is going down in the human universe” he takes a seat on the floor and snaps his fingers, and a T.V. plops out of the ground and a remote appears out of nowhere.
“Hmmm, so these it seems like a new Madden is coming out, on those fabled “tax-free” weekends. What is tax anyways? I’ll never get these weird creatures. Hmmm, next channel, oh a gathering of people, hmmm these people look awfully, weird they kind of remind me of that one random hitman that dunks- oh nevermind…”
Then out of nowhere, a sound was heard from far away.
“SOS? No way!” and Neco Arc Chaos burrowed into the ground quickly appearing at another location what seemed to be a cave filled with screens, showing different universes on the different screens.
“Oh not those humans, not this place! Whatever, but it is my duty as NECO ARC CHAOS! to fulfill my duty!”
What duty? No one really knows the purpose of the GCV and its residents, or does anyone really give a damn.
Neco Arc Chaos suddenly pops out of the ground, in the middle of A mall, blearing out “JYA JYAN JYANNNNN~” and people scurry out of the way of this tiny freakish thing that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and move out of his way when he ran off with blazing speed, leaving a dust trail behind him…
Neco Arc Chaos is now open to interaction, only if you can catch his attention.
ATTEN-HUT
REMIX
REMIX
REMIX
TBU Episode 1 has been bumped up to August 20th due to some people being able to play/participate/HOST only when moved ahead. More time is good, right?
Also, feel free to discuss the tourney with other players and the hosts on the Xelium IRC server at #aeternity. If you need assistance in logging into the channel, just PM me.
Cleofis Randolph the Patriarch admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Doctor Stephen Strange from the Marvel Universe, and will be bringing along an assist, Jin Saotome from Marvel vs Capcom 2. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and no homo.
Chris(Coin) admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as Puss in Boots from Shrek 2 and will be bringing along an assist, Donkey, from the same source. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, god bless, and no homo.
…how is Shrek 2 a crossover?
Because Shrek movies pulls characters out of different Fairytales.
The Shrek Universe is one giant fairytale crossover universe, yeah.
Also, Puss in Boots himself is a crossover character, since he crosses over to the Shrek Universe from his own story.
=) My thoughts exactly. I hope that counts!
…I’ll allow it!
Auron
Gender: Male
Age: 44
Height: 6’ 2"
Body Type: Musculotonic
Occupation: Defense Attorney, Sebben, Murdock & Auron Law Offices
Source: Final Fantasy X, Kingdom Hearts II, with influence of Gyakuten Saiban
Appearance
Auron’s facial appearance is unchanged from his other presentations, bearing a long scar across his right eye, dark blue sunglasses, and five o’ clock shadow at all hours of the day. His hair is black, but beginning to show gray streaks, and he keeps it slicked back and carefully styled. He wears a rich red suit with matching cross-shaped tie, as well as a black shirt, gloves, and shoes. He typically carries an overlong aluminum briefcase, more reminiscent of a rifle case than an attache, as well as a small steel flask in an inside pocket of his suit coat. On the left lapel of his coat rests his attorney’s badge.
Picture: ahem
Biography
Auron was born in New Gotham, child of two immigrants from Chongoa who used the entirety of their meager life savings to make the trip and find a place to live. Young Auron grew up with little, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood in order to help afford food. At the age of 11, he was witness to the robbery of a shop and managed to see the face of the criminal when no one else could. He eagerly testified, only to be dismayed when the defendant in the trial was not the person he saw, and the actual criminal was one of the accusing witnesses. The only one to believe him was the defense attorney, a man whose name is sadly lost to history, but whose deeds we shall always be indebted to. Okay, I was planning on having it be Daredevil, but the timeline wouldn’t work. Unless Matt Murdock was frozen by a secret Nazi experiment a few years after and defrosted in the present day… Nah.
At any rate, that defense attorney’s actions that day instilled in young Auron a desire for justice. True justice, not the convenient type most of New Gotham seemed to prefer. At the age of 14, the Steel Samurai began airing, reinforcing Auron’s view with a character bent on providing justice in a world without it. At 16, Auron obtained his scar and lost his right eye when he stopped an Aryan group from beating up a black man. As luck would have it, the black man was a lawyer and took Auron under his wing for legal training after the teenager was able to identify the gang members.
Hired on as an entry-level worker in the Sebben & Sebben law offices, Auron began learning to practice law. He quickly gained a reputation as being able to look over a case and make good judgments on it, to the point where it was said he saw more with one eye than most people do with two. Eventually, over a series of mergers and promotions, Auron became a full partner of the Law Offices of Sebben, Murdock, & Auron. During his time as a junior partner, he commissioned a replica of the blade used by the Steel Samurai in the fifth through the sixteenth season of the show (As well as off and on during later seasons).
Currently, Auron has a reputation as being nearly undefeatable in court. Rumors have also flown about unscrupulous prosecutors targeting him and his clients for assassination several times, all of them unsuccessful, proving that the sword he carries is not just a decoration.
Personality
Normally a man of few words, Auron becomes effusive when talking about one of two subjects: The defense of a client (and subsequent motives of the actual criminal), and the Steel Samurai. A hardcore fan since he was a teenager, Auron has a large amount of related merchandise, and has even gone so far as to commission a fully-functional replica of the Samurai Blade Beta.
In personality he is nearly unchanged from Final Fantasy X, being pragmatic and straightforward, rarely showing any kind of emotion. The exception is an obvious excitement when discussing the Steel Samurai. As befits both a Guardian and a defense attorney, he will come to the aid of the imperiled and innocent, neither requesting nor expecting much in the way of reward. His first few cases simply happened to be rather lucrative out of gratitude on the client’s part.
Abilities
Auron’s main ability is the strength required to actually swing his replica blade around. Even with his considerable strength, a full steel blade would be inordinately heavy, thus the sword is crafted of a “sandwich” consisting of two outer layers of titanium and the inner layer, containing the actual cutting edge, of steel. This is in contrast to the TV show’s wood and aluminum prop. The sword is identical in appearance to his in-game blades that normally provide magic boosts and elemental strikes, although the replica has neither of those abilities. If you require an actual description, the sword is mostly black with the cutting edge of a brighter steel color. The grip, long enough for four hands to hold comfortably, is gray with gold accents, and the blade curves forward into a pick-like point. Usually, Auron’s stance and movements are similar to his game incarnation, although he carries his briefcase with his left hand instead of having the arm tucked inside his clothes. He will set down his briefcase nearby if combat threatens or store his blade in the briefcase (Possibly handing the case to Porter in some cases) if in a safe or neutral area. He is unarmored, and will usually attempt to parry incoming blows with his blade or dodge them instead of taking the hit, unless using Guard.
Through a combination of swordplay and legal skill, he can make his opponents doubt their own ability, lowering statistics as his regular Break moves do. Additionally, he has access to his other abilities and Overdrives, some of which have been renamed and/or re-themed to represent his profession and interests.
Objection (Threaten) - With a mighty yell, Auron causes one foe to freeze in doubt, panic, or confusion. May not work against those with strong wills or sufficiently-prepared prosecutors.
Samurai Slice (Dragon Fang) - Moving his sword almost too rapidly for the human eye to follow, Auron dashes through a group of enemies, striking each one solidly. This attack seriously exhausts him, and he usually has a hard time if the move doesn’t vanquish his enemies immediately.
Samurai Swing (Shooting Star) - Unchanged from the game version.
Cross Examination (Banishing Blade) - After taking a short pull from his flask, Auron rapidly picks holes in every facet of a target’s statement, infusing them with doubt and fear. This attack is no longer sword-based, but instead a massive amount of liquor-fueled trash-talking.
Decisive Evidence (Tornado) - Lodging his sword in the nearby scenery, Auron opens his briefcase and unleashes a torrent of papers and carefully-labeled evidence, whipping it into a tornado that buffets the opponents and lifts them off their feet. As an option in the attack, he may hurl Porter (see below) into the midst of the tornado, igniting it into a pillar of flames.
Guard functions normally, and Auron does not currently have access to Zombie Attack, Sentinel, or Entrust.
Porter Rudolf Inguardsen Nadoff Nkuku Yewell
Gender: Male
Age: 135 (This incarnation)
Height: 3’8"
Body Type: Penguin-shaped
Occupation: Gofer, Sebben, Murdock & Auron Law Offices
Source: Disgaea, Disgaea II, Phantom Brave, other NIS properties.
Appearance
A large blue penguin-like creature, Porter bears a hot pink nylon fanny pack strapped on his belly where his waist theoretically is.
Biography
Hailing from the land of Disgaea, Porter is a Prinny, the reincarnated soul of a sinner sentenced to work off his sin. Fed up with the work conditions in the Netherworld, he emigrated to America and got a job in the law offices of Sebben & Sebben, where he’s worked for minimum wage for the past 30 years.
Personality
Porter is somewhat sarcastic and snarky, and never hesitates to crack wise about a given situation if he thinks of something. He occasionally smokes menthol cigarettes. Like all Prinnies, he ends most if not all of his sentences with “dood”.
Abilities
Even for a Prinny, Porter is weak in battle. If pressed into melee, he flails away with his stubby flippers, doing little more than disturbing or distracting the opponent. Like all Prinnies, he explodes when thrown, reforming a few minutes later from pure soulstuff. His regeneration may be faster or slower, depending on various levels of magical flux and high-gamma background rad… He reforms at the speed of plot.
Prinny Barrage - Rummaging through his fanny pack, Porter begins throwing anything he can get his flippers on: cigarette packs, sticks of gum, wooden nickels, silica gel packets (DO NOT EAT), business cards, toilet paper tubes, whatever.
Prinny Dance - Whipping a rumpled lime green fedora with orange polka dots from his fanny pack, Porter begins moonwalking, interspersing some bouts of disco and the Macarena. This horrid clash of styles has been known to induce nausea in onlookers.
Prinny Bomb - Porter pulls some large firecrackers out of his fanny pack, lights them with his cigarette, and scatters them about. Mostly just distracting, although they can raise a nasty blister if you’re not careful.
Pringer Beam - …Fuhgeddaboutit.
Changing my assist.
Switchblade admits to blah blah blah and will be bringing along an assist, Ambush Bug from DC comics. I will consider blah blah blah homo.
Thou, Bastard.
?monochrome admits to being a bastard, and will be playing as the persicom Kos-mos from Xenosaga and will be bringing along an assist, **Hideki Motosuwa **of ‘Chobits’. I will consider the ramifications my actions will have on love, peace, anarchy, freedom, and everything in-between. Peace, gods bless, and no homo.?
Kenobi Memorial Convention Hall - Justice Convention
The convention floor, like so many before it, was that special breed of controlled chaos that you only find when hundreds of fans of a single subject come together. From above, one could watch the crowd ripple and eddy like a turbulent load of socks, ready to mete out the starch of justice on a deserving world like a short-order cook slinging TOTALLY mixed metaphors.
To say that Auron was a rock amidst this flow would be untrue, he was battered and pushed along by the crowd’s flow as well as others, although his own strength and an occasional nod of respect from the crowd allowed him to push his way through to specific interesting booths.
Following in Auron’s wake was what at first glance appeared to be an ambulatory pile of nothing but booth goodies, reaching up nearly to the defense attorney’s shoulder. Closer examination revealed a protruding yellow bill with a crumpled, yet unlit, cigarette clamped firmly in it. A deep, yet nasal voice emanated from the depths of the pile as they pulled into the booth holding a representative of the Society for Creative Anarchic Interpretation of Laws.
Members of SCAIL were the ones walking into restaurants with “No shirt, no shoes, no service” signs sans pants. They were a handy compromise and go-between between the lawmakers and groups of anarchists. Some said that SCAIL was one of the ones responsible for anarchy actually FAILING to overrun New Gotham. For instance, while the manufacture of explosives by unlicensed individuals was prohibited, fireworks were not. Thus New Gotham had either some of the most visually impressive terrorism or the most destructive fireworks shows in the nation. Last year’s Trainyard Catherine Wheel, for instance, put on by a group known as the Sons of Dagoth Ur, had been decreed a wonderful outing for the whole family and resulted in the destruction of only four obsolete train cars and 500 yards of track.
“Dood, my back is killing me. Can we sit down somewhere?”
Auron gave a glance down in the prinny’s direction from the pamphlet he was perusing. “Won’t that stuff fit in your pack?”
“Sure, if it wasn’t in my contract that I could only use it for personal stuff. If Phil hadn’t said he wanted to go through it all when we got back and pick out office supplies… He’s a cheap bastard, dood.”
“Ha ha! Illegitimate offspring.” Auron muttered, smiling.
“Dood, that sounded just like him.”
“Hang on, doo- er, dude.” The boothie had caught wind of the conversation and leaned over, some of the spray painted logo of a pair of tilted scales on his t-shirt flaking off and landing on the floor. “It’s in your contract that you can only use your bag for personal use?”
The pile shifted, Porter’s bill dipping down and back up in a nod. “Yup, dood. Anything business-related, I need to carry over my head, dood.”
“Huh…” The SCAIL boothie thought for a few seconds, then laughed. “Anything in your contract about stealing from your boss?”
“Mmm… Nope, dood. I think Mr. Sebben kinda expects it. At least, he urges us to steal pens and stuff when we visit other law firms.”
“Got it, dude! Try stealing all that stuff, which technically belongs to your business, then shopdropping it when you’re back at the office!”
“Shopdropping?” Auron raised an eyebrow.
“Sure, dude. Opposite of shoplifting. Shopdropping’s when you go into a store with merchandise hidden about your person, then surreptitiously place it on the shelves! It’s kind of a game among some SCAIL chapters. One group, this is so awesome, one group actually shopdropped a dismantled Victrola player in a Radio Shack, then assembled it in the store without getting caught! And it still worked, dude! It’s not technically against most laws. Well, it depends on what you drop.”
The defense attorney nodded. “I can imagine.”
“Sounds like a good idea, dood, lemme try it, see what my contract says.” There was a small rustling noise, a pause, and then the entirety of the pile disappeared into Porter’s hot pink fanny pack, with the exception of an overlong aluminum briefcase and a long chain of foil-wrapped condoms which was slung about his neck like an odd scarf. “It works, dood.”
“Forgot your prophies, dude.”
“Oh. Thanks, dood.” The condoms quickly disappeared.
“No prob, dude.”
“Dood!”
“Dude!”
“Dood!”
This exchange may have gone on for the better part of five minutes had not Auron dragged Porter away from the booth, the prinny still yelling “DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”
Forward progress was halted as the crowd parted to allow a cadre of Heavily-Armed Nuns (Heav.A.N.s) through, including the youngest, an eight-year-old girl pulling a Gatling gun mounted in a little red wagon. Porter removed his cigarette from his beak and tapped it, although it was still unlit and had no ash to knock off.
“I hope that wagon’s got good brakes, dood.”
“There are advantages.”
“Oh?”
“A retreating gun battle, for instance. And if she locks the tongue in place, she can circle-strafe.”
“Huh, good point, dood. Whoa, who’s that?”
“That” happened to be a young man, in his mid teens at the latest, standing directly across from Auron and Porter as the last of the nuns filed by. Clad in a black robe reminiscent more of Japanese fashions than any American design, and topped by a spiky shock of orange hair, the boy appeared to have a perpetual scowl on his face. Of moderately more interest was the massive blade, easily as tall as the boy himself, held on his back and wrapped from pommel to tip in cloth. The boy spotted Auron at the same time Auron spotted the boy, and began to head toward the aged attorney, only for both parties to be caught in the press as the crowd surged behind them. The two were practically slammed together, and each gripped the other’s arm in an effort to avoid being separated.
“Oof! Mr. Auron, I presume.”
“Ugh. I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced.”
“Ichigo. Prosecutor Ichigo Kurosaki.”
“Ack! Dood! Help!” Porter’s voice came from somewhere off to Auron’s left. “I can hear singing, dood! I don’t want to go there! Help! Auron! I hate musical numbers, dood!”
Auron struggled to get through the crowd, but the press of bodies was too much for him. “Pardon me, but my companion’s gotten separated…”
“He can wait.” Ichigo’s brow furrowed. “I hear you’re quite the ruthless defender, Mr. Auron.”
“Really.” Auron tried stretching to see over the heads of the crowd, then realized he was looking for someone waist-high.
“I hear there’s nothing you won’t do to get your client off.”
That got Auron’s attention. “I hadn’t heard that myself.”
“Rumors are flying, Mr. Auron. Faked evidence, attacks on plaintiffs, prosecutors, and even judges? Care to tell me none of those are true?”
Auron’s eye narrowed. “Prosecutor Kurosaki, I have no idea who is spreading these baseless rumors.”
“Oh? Is that sword merely for show, then?”
“I am a defense attorney. In every sense. My blade is used to defend the innocent. One prosecutor was foolish enough to attack me directly. I placed him in the hospital with a broken arm and a restraining order. I have no need to fake evidence, not when the innocence of my clients is writ large for the world to see.”
“Oof! Mind the elbows! So, you deny everything?”
“Everything. Did you come here just to see if the rumors are true?”
“No, I’m also attending the Weapons In Court panel at 3:30. I believe Judges Gutts and Sprout will have some interesting arguments.”
“Ow, that was my foot, madam. I may look into that one.” The throng began to lighten, and the two released each other, stepping away slightly. “Excuse me, Prosecutor, I need to find my companion.”
“Of course, sorry to have kept you.”
Auron started to turn away, then looked back. “Oh, and Prosecutor?”
“Yes?”
“I’m looking forward to meeting you in court. Don’t lose that inquisitive nature.”
Auron found Porter dangling upside-down by a rope over a drinking fountain. Auron’s briefcase lay nearby, and the attorney was pleased to see it was undamaged, although Porter was his first priority. “Porter, are you all right?”
“I’m 'Enry the Eighth, I am, 'Enry the Eighth I am I am…”
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“:qcf::snkc:?”
Failing to find any cheeks on the prinny, Auron slapped Porter in the bill a few times. “Come on, Porter, stay with me. Who did this?”
Porter shook his head a few times, then reached to his bill, removing what Auron had at first thought was a cigarette, but turned out now to be the stick of a lollipop. “The Lollipop Guild, dood. They kept singing something about something for kids…”
Auron grumbled. “Censorship Gnomes. I thought attendance was supposed to be down this year. You all right now?”
“All the blood’s rushing to my head, dood.”
Auron untied the prinny, and after a quick check to make sure his briefcase hadn’t been rifled, the two headed back into the thronging crowds.