atma: (Default)
[personal profile] atma posting in [community profile] heroicrecords
Wordcount: 40506/50000

Drugs/Substances Ingested: Weed - Rainbow - Homegrown, 10mg Hydrocodone
Effects: Grateful my tooth shut up for a while

Nothing beats having a long day out in the hot sun of the now southern hemisphere of your planet, getting a nice tan while you beat the shit out of fascists trying to ram one up your ass, without lube no less. Rude. Only do that if you're into it. So we decided to return the favor and I began instructing Ayame as I navigated her around, blasting away at near flight speed as the planes belonging to the Nazis of Neo Brazil's new shit government and knocking them out of the sky. If this were some kind of amazing action game and not actually my for real life, this would probably cut to a mini game where you had to control her instead and get some kickass music remix of a shooter game from your childhood, but this isn't a Doom mod, sadly, nor is it a game. You die here, you die for real.

So you will just have to picture for yourself the perspective of a young and barely legal hot ninja babe who is only coming in to her own now as she went from a nervous and naïve bundle of energy eager to please but unsure how to with a huge crush on my cohort to semi competent badass, because every time I checked my rear view mirror, I could see a smile slowly smearing across her face with each successful reload and firing of it, another plane knocked out. We swerved across the country side away from where people actually lived, so that the planes would only fall on the plains and not smearing themselves all over the people, since the last thing we needed added to our list was the eradication of a small farming village. Those people are the salt of the earth, you know, because what they get out of the earth tastes great with salt on it.

But seriously, the further south we got and ever closer to the ever swerving and thinning tip of Mexico's more lower borders, deep now in its britches, the harder it was to stay stable, going through mountains and running rampant up the walls of ancient ruins of the Aztecs, latching on a ramp made of stone older than your mom and using our momentum and immense speed to stay on track up and down the old pyramids of this once wonderful and bloody culture, flying off and landing yards away as we rocked and rolled across the Mexican countryside. We were only sorry we could not stop long enough to pick up some sweet new gear, but this was not our final dungeon, and this was not our ultimate armor, but our respect for the Aztec methods and their aesthetic as far as kicking asses was not lost on Kat or I, and we had a moment of silence as we readjusted our position and only wished for the luck of the hottest of their goddesses to see us through and help us liberate their land from the fascist warlords now creeping up on it.

I heard a small cackling escape Ayame's lips, meaning that our job reforming her into something more awesome and more complete in and of herself was working. Either that, or heavy artillery has that effect on people. Could be both. You can't blame someone for getting pretty damn excited about the amount of firepower in their hands. Perhaps it was for the better she carted herself over on that boat and into our lives again, no matter how much weird fanfiction she probably has written about us now in her head. Her version of these events would be an interesting thing to see, but this is my project and not hers, so you'd have to ask her if she'd be willing to write these events out as she saw fit and rate and give her kudos on her AO3 account. Which, by the way, you're not fooling anyone with that atrocious username of yours, KatsMySenpai, we've seen the weird shit you've put on there. I made a note to check after this to see if she did, indeed, put her story up there if only because I'm wondering how I came across to her. Oh god, would she then shift her weird obsessive affections to me? Would she get someone to make a little Atma keychain and strap it to her phone? Would she be masturbating to photos of me in the bath we stopped at in the hotel in Tijuana? Or the scandalous photos of us at the pool there where none of us were wearing our tops at all because fuck it what's the point in false advertising and being a tease at that level of floss thin bikini straps? Oh god, what kind of monster have we created? Perhaps we should have eased up on the ever growing levels of THC in her blood. Or the Taco Bell.

It was probably the latter.

But for now, we had to focus on getting to the Panama Canal before they lowered the bridges for the day, if only because Kat and I agreed it would make for a pretty sweet ramp and save us the time of actually trying to drive over or around it and trying to make our car and tank float, because as great as that would be, we hadn't unlocked that upgrade yet and this would just make for a much faster journey is if we hauled ass and began to fly like the ever closer encroaching fascist government goons that circling us were. Where they got so many planes so fast, we will never know, but it probably came with the whole hijacking most of a continent and the country above it territory that you gain when you're this much of an overlord dickbag.

Then again if I was one, I would probably be so limp in my ideals and insecure in myself that showing off my immense firepower would be the only way I'd get women, and they'd only come to me to shut me up a day instead of coming and crawling over me for how genuinely cool and strong I am like now. No wonder Ayame was going to write fanfic about me. Probably. If she didn't then someone ought to, and it wasn't going to be me.

This story doesn't count. Not when it's your autobiography, it doesn't. Nothing here is being exaggerated, I'm just telling it like it is.

But the Panama Canal. Once we crossed this, it would be our Rubicon. The point of no return. We wouldn't be able to come back until we had destroyed the evil that lay within and liberate the people of South America and possibly the whole world from her disgusting grasp. Why Brazil, we don't know. Maybe she liked cheap waxes. But once past Santiago and it would be in sight in minutes at the rate of travel speed we had accumulated with our nitrous rockets. Minutes were all we had left to time this jump and do it right, and Kat and I gave each other a thumbs up as the bridges rapidly came into view, still up, and we hit the gas and blew a crap load of smoke into the air, going full throttle as we hit it and leaped over the cargo boats below, totally blowing some minds as we waved hello to the crowds watching us below, getting some massive hang time and somehow landing near the border of Colombia.

Brazil, and the new installed dictatorship of Neo Brazil, were just minutes away for us. The border would soon cross over from Colombia to it, and then going to the center wouldn't take much longer. Our long journey to our final destination was about to end, and what awaited us inside the capital we had no idea, but we would have to be ready before, because you only do this right by just waltzing in like the badass you are and start taking names right away. Fuck your immigration system, I ain't standing in your bread line to citizenship when we could take the highway to freedom. Eat liberty and justice for all, scumbags.

We were, however, exhausted, and we would need a plan to see us through to the final act of this amazing and incredibly stupid adventure, so we parked outside of a small town in Colombia, put our best fake names on, and entered the local inn, making sure our vehicles were well hidden. We'd need to reload our ammo and our brains and stomachs, and it may very well be the last time we'd get anything resembling sleep and dinner until the end, so we may as well over indulge and stay a day. It pays to be prepared, especially when your enemy isn't even human. And I don't even mean that in the “She's a cyborg” way, but in the way you know that ex girlfriends can get. Ring a ding ding and all.

But outdated jokes aside, we were tired. Hauling ass over national monuments and leaving tire tracks on them was overly exhausting work, as was the whole stress of the situation, but mostly the driving at hundreds of miles an hour thing on top of pulling off some totally sweet jumps. That's real work. We'd like to see you put in a day like that and not want to just crash after. And we don't mean crashing your vehicle. Please drive responsibly and all that. Do not try this at home. Do not attempt to operate heavy machinery outside your car until you know what adrenaline does to you and how you react to it. Batteries not included. No cash on delivery.

We were spent.

The people of this quaint village didn't seem to mind us showing up. We were probably the first non fascist state police people they had seen in days. They looked tired in and of themselves, and the words they spoke to us confirmed that they were the most northern point of the Neo Brazil empire now, and were all doomed to work in the local mines and farm food for the Cyborg King lest they fall under the might of her steel heels. They knew what we were here for, and while they doubted anyone could stop her now, they wanted to have hope in us. No matter how bleak things look, people benefit most from having something or someone to believe in, and if we could be that figure for them, all the better. You could do a lot worse than a few hot babes with enough ammunition and horsepower to shame a small army.

We spent the day talking to them and gathering intel. The Cyborg King was due to start her march from here very soon, taking over Mexico after just declaring war on it hours ago, the soldiers who failed to catch us being told to stay behind and get ready for the infiltration of California and then from there, the rest of North America, and easily taking over the rest of the world from there once she hijacked their technology and militaries and overriding them with her evil cyborg technology into an invincible empire of post cyberpunk doom.. If nothing else, it'd give us trouble if we decided to turn back now. But we had no choice. We had come this far and we hadn't intended on losing, and if we could save multiple countries and nations at once to clear our name, we'd go down in history as hard as we go down on your sister. Imagine how many medals we'd get placed upon our breasts, hopefully by the hands of a hot, tan lady.

It was also there that we learned that she was apparently trying to start up a space program. She was set to launch a satellite the next day or two sometime and begin transmitting her threats to the people of Earth and demand they surrender or die in obscurity. She was no longer fucking around with her might and her threats, and while there was no reliable cable or internet or phone connections out here, messengers from the capital came in each day to let them know what their glorious leader was up to, and they figured they had nothing to lose by telling a trio of wannabe heroines what her worst was up to. They were already sick of working under her rule, and it had only been a month, but they just wanted their freedom and their daily, routine lives back, as mundane as it was, we couldn't blame them for desiring such a thing.

They let us have an empty house to rest up in and brought us homemade food that was out of this world. We'd have to come back on the return trip to pick some of this up. They refused our money, saying the only payment they wanted was to have their lives back, and if we failed to just never show our faces around here again. Many lamented they would not be able to go with us and fight, but they were not equipped in the least to deal with even her lowliest of machine guards, let alone face the King herself. They had no champion of their own, so their champion is what we would become. Perhaps they'd build a statue of us, that'd be pretty cool. I always wondered how I'd look in granite or marble. Then you could say I was truly as stoned as one possibly could be.

Speaking of, it was probably one of our last times to load our bodies up with our precious and most favorite of drugs, and we settled in our little overnight cabin and lit up, pulling Ayame in with us and helping her relax. A maniacal grin was still on her face, and she asked us when we'd be able to do that again, as it was pretty awesome to blow badguys right out of the very sky they were trying to claim for themselves. After we cleared our minds by clouding them in this most holy of smokes, we sat back and got all nostalgic. Something about entering enemy territory and perhaps your final battle, or at least the final major dungeon of your quest, tended to make people want to wax about the good old days, even if the good old days for us were just technically last week and not years ago. Either way, beats toiling away for years at a time dealing with this kind of bullshit. But in our experience, most potential heroes wound up thinking a bit too hard about what had been and what was yet to come at times like this, but what else could we do?

I took out Hoshigiri, my trusted sword, and gave her a look over. I hadn't had to use her yet, and an enemy should consider themselves of some kind of skill and somewhat lucky if they forced me to use it, especially if they were able to get me to draw it instead of just beating their noses and brains in with the hilt and scabbard. I only wanted to bloody her if it was necessary.

“Do you remember when we met?” I asked Kat.

“Chico. The tournament. We were scouting new talent and you showed up. You were the only one there to give any of us girls from Hanzo a run for our money.” Kat responded, grinning as she reminisced. “I was pretty impressed, because for someone with such a small rack, you had a big heart under it all.”

She laughed her signature shrill laugh.

“You guys made me an honorary student and offered to take me in if I would help you in your quest to build a branch in San Francisco. I was a local, so I would know the area better than any map, and that's when we sought funding and blew it all on drugs and hookers.”

“Yeah, but it's been worth it.”

“If we survive this, let's steal this Cyborg King's money and open up that branch. I think we've earned having a better, more permanent home for us all. The girls can come along, too.”

“You think you can beat her?”

“I did once a long while ago. It's been a few years, and I've only grown stronger since. Her beef with me and my girl has gotten out of hand, and I have no idea what I personally did to her beyond date the woman she likes, but she dumped Koshka so really, she should have kept it when she had it.” I set Hoshigiri aside and sighed. “People are stupid.”

“Yeah, they are...” Kat and I gave each other a long and awkward glance, our faces blushing. She walked up behind me slowly and placed her hands on my chest, something she hadn't done in a while, despite doing it to pretty much every girl in the village the second we entered, and to pretty much every other woman she's met like her own twisted version of a handshake, she hadn't graced me with such dignity like that in a while. It came as a start. A quiet moment later and she spoke back up. “....Don't die. Please. You're the best person I've met in a while.”

“Feh, I ain't dying. But you better not die either. The women of the world would mourn the loss of the real and rightful sovereign of this story, the Hooter Queen.” I tried to smile, but it was forced. The mood had gotten too somber and borderline pornographic for me to play it cool much longer. “...I'd mourn you.”

“...So um...Do you want to um, you know, make out or something?” Trust Kat to be blunt and ruin the moment, but it was slowly propelling towards this conclusion anyways. Like you didn't see this happening eventually from the beginning. It was possibly our last night alive, after all, and like hell we were going to let this opportunity go before possibly being blown into oblivion.

What followed was a long, slow, sensual night of atrociously lewd and drug fueled sex, an orgy of smoke and skinship, a ridiculous amount of sweat and awkward positions posited upon the small bed that we had been given. We'd have to apologize to the natives later for ruining their nice sheets like that. At one point, we pulled Ayame in and we took turns with her, putting on a show for the other, before finally ending the night in a shameless threesome, deciding we would send ourselves off to the final battle the next day in a way to remember. Eventually, we all passed out on each other, only waking up once the villagers came by to offer us some food to go, saying we needed to get our asses up and towards the capital, as the Cyborg King was due to launch at midnight, and if we wanted to get there in time, we would have to haul ass.

We woke up, blushing again as we looked at each others' bodies on top of the other. It wasn't anywhere near the first time we had seen each other naked, but in this context it was very new, now that we were more than familiar with how each other worked. We got dressed and loaded our vehicles, taking the villagers up on their kind offer of a to go meal, me strapping my sword on as we checked our rocket engines, making sure we had enough fuel left to get us there.

“Hey, about last night...” Kat began to ask, turning red.

“...If we survive, it can happen again.” I replied, turning equally flush.

“It better. Maybe you could get me into small tits too, at this rate, if you keep that kind of quality of work up.”

“You know you're into it.”

We got in the drivers seats of our chosen vehicles after exchanging a quick and happy kiss and a hug and a grope for good measure, nodding and smiling wide as we began to make our way out of Colombia and into the wild yonder of the unknown territory of Neo Brazil.

“HAHAHA I GOT LAID! BY KATSURAGI SENPAI! HAHAHA MY TRIP TO THE AMERICAS WAS WORTH IT! THIS IS JUST LIKE MY FANFICTIONS! HAHAHA!” Ayame shouted and cackled, it was like a whole new set of emotions and power was unlocked in her. She wouldn't shut up about it the way to the capital, but we decided to let her have this moment. Girl deserved it for sticking around with us and staying alive this far.

It was sunset when we got to the outskirts of Neo Brazil. A mecahnical metropolis clouded the skies, with a building in the center shooting up past beyond the clouds, spotlights searching around the perimeter. Guards lined everything and were loaded with only the biggest and nastiest of guns. Cold, blue lights echoed off the windows and sirens and grinding noises filled the air more and more as we made our final approach, stopping only once to use our phone last time and let the girls know we were there, and that this would be over before dawn. And to say our I love yous but not our goodbyes, because we weren't going to lose. We weren't out of this story yet. That's only for people who have given up and want to accept this as some kind of form of destiny, but we were the kind to forge our own fates and paths, and now that our journey had gotten us to the destination, we were going to write our own end to it as we see fit, and none of it included a sappy goodbye in our visions.

If we did die, we only hoped we would be mourned by the women of the world. We just hoped our girls, and all girls, were watching. By now, the whole world was probably aware of who we were, our supposed crimes, and the Cyborg King's intentions.

We only had everything to lose, but we liked those odds. All or nothing, we say. There's no other style for us to do this in. We had to stop them here lest our girls fall victim to the march of the King that was about to leave lest we could put a halt to it here.

Our final battle, our final dungeon, the final approach was before us. There was only one thing left to do, and that was stop the Cyborg King. The first step would be to find that rocket and stop it, then stop her. We revved our engines back to full throttle and began to race and haul ass towards the center and the heart of the capital, because subtlety is for chumps. We wanted them to know we'd arrived and we weren't going to have any of it. Let them try to stop us. I'd like to see what they had in store for us now.

We drove off a patrol vehicle and into a hail of immediate bullets, firing back as fast as we could. We couldn't look back now, even to admire our own handiwork and our own carnage we were leaving in our wake.

The fate of the world rested on us being reckless. Fuck knocking, not when they barged right on in on our lives to begin with. We were going to shove our boots up Yozakura and the King's ass and kick them back to whatever hole they crawled out of.

Goodbye, Mexico. Goodbye, Panama. Goodbye, Colombia.

Hello, Hell.
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The Hall of Heroes | Atma's Writing Dump

December 2016

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