NNWM 2k15 - Post 15
Nov. 28th, 2015 03:37 am![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
atma posting in ![[community profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
heroicrecordsWordcount: 47144/50000
Drugs/Substances Ingested: 10mg Hydrocodone, 10mg Oxycodone
Effects: what the fuck this is almost over
Of course, as things begin to reach the climax and the ultimate finality of things, so does our subplots, and the reports and intel I had gathered on what happened while I was gone reflect a similar attitude back in our situation in Northern California, back in the good ol' Wine Country, where all of this shit began, in the realm of the drunks, the danks, and the dames, where neighbors spat in their neighbor's flat, over spats and chats and stacks and stacks of crap. Ryobi was coming into her finality, her own revenge, making sure she would go out with a bang that would rival the one she caused in Nevada so long ago.
Did you not remember where or when we last left off, or that this was even a thing going on? I don't blame you, for I wish, too, to erase their memory from my mind, but time and history will not allow me to forget any fool who has transgressed me or the people I care about, and Koshka and Hikage both fell under the caring a lot about category, no matter how much they flinched time to time at my embarrassing levels of affection towards them. They were human. They deserved love and respect and a way and right to exist.
Just as you reading this are human, too. And you deserve love. And respect. A right and a way to exist. That is what it meant to celebrate life, the philosophy that Kat and I espoused, the very one that came into Ayame in a sudden burst of defiance in our last chapter, in a grand show of her unwillingness to die. That's what it came down to, after all, was not so much a want to live but a refusal to wither up and rot in the ground just yet. You can do a lot when you're that stubborn about everything. And for that we were appreciative of her and proud for marrying herself so close to our own philosophy.
Once you realize that you are you and nobody else is you or can be you, not even any master or teacher you have, no matter how more skilled or respected they are than you, you become your own master and surpass their teachings. This is how humanity has lived since the dawn of time, since we could go upright, since we could think and form words and begin to etch out the infinite branches of language and culture and actions between us. This is how we have thrived and what will be the key to making us thrive forevermore is the ability to be even a bit better than the last generation.
Humanity was a spiral, a twisting double helix represented by mine and Kat's desperate climb into the stars and beyond, swirling forever more towards entropy, and a hot blooded force that only forges itself on its own irons and into the greater infinity that is our lives, no matter who or what would stand in our way, our ability to both be unmoved and yet forever going forth is what made us solve the timeless riddle of what would lose in a fight; the immovable object or the unstoppable force?
The answer was neither. We are both, and stopping ourselves would only detriment that.
Within this wisdom is where we find our freedom, our will to survive. Once you knock down one, you can go to ten, then a hundred, a thousand, and so forth. Our lives are all inertia, all energy spent towards the climax and the end of it all, but perhaps with just enough will and the want to live rather than to die, we could make it, and shoot past the end and into eternal bliss, a right to all living things.
It didn't have to come to an end yet. This tale will soon end, but with our new found mastering of our lives, we would propel beyond even the words on this page, be it in real life or fiction or rumor spread of our deeds on this day, but remember that all beginnings end, but all ends also forge a new beginning,
I am like iron hot to be struck and forged always, as are you. We all are. Beautiful existences and breaths of mortality, and the fact our lives were all destined to end is what drove us to greatness, to be remembered past our ends, to be the greatest names and to make all despair upon our works as they gazed at it in a glorious fuel of jealousy and inspiration, making them go forth and fight harder and shout more existentialism than even I could be here doing now.
You're worth it.
I'm worth it.
If you disagree, then I take you to the wall and beseech you to look again and find something to keep on going with, even if it's now a personal grudge against me to prove me wrong. I would welcome it. It's the basic human condition is to live in spite of it all, after all. So why not make it a worthy one and a glorious one and bring an honor upon your soul and a pride unto me that you would do better and end my rambling words and nonsense you say has no effect? I welcome you to try. Perhaps we could go out for tea and lunch afterwards. I would welcome the equaling blow of any opponent, be it verbal or physical or philosophical, and while I'm waxing poetic, we may as well fill our physical selves with something cheap and greasy but utterly satisfying to the soul and get something out of it even if you and I never see eye to eye or I to I.
We're all different, and in and of itself is beautiful, and the best proof I have that what I am saying works. It is again in this we find our freedom to be and will find ourselves invincible as we walk through life with the knowledge that we are harder, we are better, we are faster, we are stronger. Your life will be as your will in all things, and people will take notice whether you notice they do or not. Never give up.
Never. Give. Up.
Only trade yourself in for something of equal or greater value, and whether you ever find something worth that much is up to you and how much worth you place in yourself, but until then you must live. You must survive. You must thrive and prove all these motherfuckers are wrong and you aren't. It is in that we achieve greatness as a species and as individuals. This is how empires fall, but it is also how they begin.
This is the cycle of all things, the cycle of humanity, the cycle of excellence that shall propel us into space, the heavens, the universe, and perhaps beyond. We are immortal if only we try, and an unstoppable flame upon the darkness of infinity lighting even the most bleak of paths in the darkest of hours that have saved us from time immemorial.
This is how we came to be is we must thank all those that believed in these words and this style of will for forging the path despite it all so that even we may be born. Do we not owe them and our masters a try even for that facet alone?
Do we not also deserve better?
And in that I say I have found a true enlightenment, a grand showing of ego and the id as one. I would rather talk big and talk forever on such concepts than I would ever wish I could sooner give up and throw myself into the infinite darkness and bleakness of nihilism that so many stupidly get out of our branch of philosophy. If your answer is to lay down and die, then go as the dog you are, and I shall choose forever to forge a path upon your soul and hope even you can find peace in the world I will bring to us all. We have no time left to suffer fools. We never did, but whatever time you take from this will chip away at my ability to bring forth a better day for even whatever it was you left behind and did not seek to know nor care to ever have known.
There is a reason I have gone on now on my own personal thoughts on life. That despite it all, I have some motherfuckers to prove wrong. If even only that gets me out of bed every day, then I consider what I am doing correct. I am my own master, I am me, I am not the ones before me and while they may be able to kick my ass physically, they could never dominate me spiritually or mentally, and that is what mattered the most in the end of it all, and that is what they would deem my skill and call me my own master by, and what I would confer to any after me.
It's because Ryobi is a stupid motherfucker who didn't listen to a goddamn single one of those words I just said, and the gods knew that I had argued this with her many a time, if only to see her storm out of my apartment and back into hers in a whirlwind of frustration. After all, so long as she could literally say “Fuck you, got mine” and believe that in every part of her actions, what need did she have to aspire to better when she already assumed she was correct?
It is where her philosophy falls apart, but it is also where it is and always has been the most dangerous way to think. Sure, the selfishness and the Randian implications were annoying and like talking to a brick wall to attend to, but it could also lead to some amazingly irrational and compulsive actions, making her into possibly the greater villain of this tale. Sure, the Cyborg King and Yozakura were working on a global and now space level scale, working there ways up to “galactic threat” which naturally turns into “asshole of Andromeda” and finally “universal douchebag” but something is not quite as acidic or piercing as that one neighbor who won't give up no matter what it is you're doing to ignore them, regardless of how your feud started. The worst of history have always been over the most petty of grudges. Maybe if that art school had accepted Hitler, we wouldn't have had so much incredible fucking bullshit to tend with that we're still cleaning up the consequences of, but history has never played nice, and while victory will favor me and the more bold if only out of a sheer spite for these megalomaniacal kinds and our utter inability to lose or give up ever, all the conflicts in it usually start because someone couldn't keep it in their pants, be it physically or mentally.
In Ryobi's case, it was a case of being unable to keep her gun in her case, so let's go with a bit of both in the unable to keep it in the pants category. She loved to flash and show off, and had she a physical cock to her body and name, no doubt by now would it have its own holster and a bullet hidden behind it because you never know when someone is going to go and try to Tread On Me and nobody treads on her and her rights to be a supreme fucking asshole.
But so it goes. Those that do not learn of this history are the most doomed to repeat it, and another fucking war was started on this block, and now she had intent to end it.
I'm sure, from her probation officer's little work desk, she is now fuming and sitting and working on an internal monologue to rival the screed and creed I just spewed forth onto paper and into your brains, in an act of revenge and to get people on her side, but ultimately I would be proved right.
At the time, however, it did not appear that way.
Our girls had received our call and kept the news on, quietly watching as they saw not only the Cyborg King and Yozakura fail to deliver their speech, but a glimpse of us as we cheered Ayame on as she kicked the shit out of them and got Asuka out of a bind and into the fight, something that was immediately recorded and uploaded to YouTube for millions of hits under the title “Stupid Fascists Gets Face Rekt” which I could not come up with a better title even if you paid me to do so.
The fact that the Cyborg King was getting ready to launch early reeked only of desperation to them. Koshka made some notes for Hikage, and explained that this woman had always reeked of desperation, and it was more a relief than anything else that she dumped her so suddenly, as she had been planning on bailing soon herself. Saved her some work, at any rate. But her ability to hold a grudge even when it was her own damn fault things went wrong was legendary and now manifesting in universal domination was not at all something that surprised her.
But it meant that whatever Kat and I were doing, it was only our best efforts, and they were sure while things were tense now, this would have a happy end, as we were not the kind to let anything in life go unfinished, even if it took us a while, we did keep our word in the end, and that's what made them love us so.
It was then though that they heard their own door slam down. Well, Hikage did, Koshka felt it, and they armed themselves with their knives, dripping with the stains of rails of coke from earlier and a bit of melon juice from one of the melons that Homura paid them in, saying they needed more fruit in their diet.
It was the Cyborg King's forces.
The infiltration of California and Mexico and everywhere else connected to these states and countries, possibly even Canada, had begun. It would soon spell the end for our girls, our freedom, our rights, our everything. The satellite had launched, and while it was fused to the body and soul of the King herself, it began emitting the waves needed to turn her soldiers into these overpowered drones that would march forth and turn the Americas into a wasteland. It looked like the end of it all.
And on the other side of it all was one particular motherfucker laughing her ass off as she slung her rifle over her shoulder. One of the guards walked by and knocked the ankle bracelet off, rising her up and declaring her their new boss as thanks for tipping them off as to where the biggest rebel sympathizers lived. Ryobi would be king of California and turn it into her own fascist, gun toting state, a free range for her to shoot anything at. She would be free of her terms of probation, and she would finally say goodbye to Sonoma County.
“You stupid sluts, did you really think you whores would get away with being the poor damsels that your shitty dyke girlfriends were protecting and saving the day for? I got connections you can't even touch.” Ryobi bragged, flipping our girls off a big one, surrounding them with the guards she had called in, if only to see them squirm. “You come into MY apartment complex, you fuck with MY security system, you fuck with MY values and MY flag, you're going to get what's coming to you, and this is it, so I hope you enjoy some long lines of gulag life up your ass, shoved up to your teeth where it belongs, you stupid, red sympathizing, disgusting, big tittied no life cows!”
Hikage and Koshka just sighed. They really, really should have seen this coming, and while as annoying as it was to have their day shat on like this, the implication that Ryobi would be the one to bring them down annoyed them more. They drew their knives, and while Koshka didn't hear a word she said, Ryobi did her best to sign it and it mostly consisted of the double bird and the universal sign for cunnilingus, so she figured she was just being a loud dipshit like always. Either way, it wasn't the way they wanted to end their weekend and deemed it a perfectly good waste of melon eating time. That shit was tasty and normally Homura charged a premium for them, but hos before bros and all, so seeing something so delicious be left to possibly rot behind them also annoyed them further.
The two waved their hands and beckoned the soldiers to come after them. If they were going to go down, it wouldn't be without breaking some faces, be they of humans or androids or drones or something more in between.
Things were looking dire on all sides.
Their fight below for their melon, their apartment, their wonderful state of California, all over a shitty neighbor dispute.
Our fight above, in the heavens, twinkling on forever more, in our vision of the rice fields and bamboo and the audience that would soon be cheering us on the world over as the interrupted broadcast netted us more and more fans.
The Cyborg King's forces stood tall on both ends, her goons and equipment over by our girls.
And her herself, a mutated form of once human spirit, in a twisted and super giant mechanical form, stood before us, blocking our way to freedom.
Only one side was going to prevail, and an eerie silence fell across the whole planet as things shifted from the failed broadcast to the Cyborg King's twisted visage and she began to force all stations, all radios, all sets to broadcast our fight.
All that was left to break the silence was a final round of taunts. You don't start these kinds of things without them.
“Any last words?” Nadezhda asked us.
“Eat Shit!” Kat and I shouted in tandem, since some things just remain universal.
“Hahaha, fitting for such lowlifes as you two. Fine, prepare yourselves! This world is now mine! ALL SHALL KNEEL BEFORE ME!” The King cackled before throwing in one last line.
“AND YOU SHALL BE THE FIRST TO GO!”
Drugs/Substances Ingested: 10mg Hydrocodone, 10mg Oxycodone
Effects: what the fuck this is almost over
Of course, as things begin to reach the climax and the ultimate finality of things, so does our subplots, and the reports and intel I had gathered on what happened while I was gone reflect a similar attitude back in our situation in Northern California, back in the good ol' Wine Country, where all of this shit began, in the realm of the drunks, the danks, and the dames, where neighbors spat in their neighbor's flat, over spats and chats and stacks and stacks of crap. Ryobi was coming into her finality, her own revenge, making sure she would go out with a bang that would rival the one she caused in Nevada so long ago.
Did you not remember where or when we last left off, or that this was even a thing going on? I don't blame you, for I wish, too, to erase their memory from my mind, but time and history will not allow me to forget any fool who has transgressed me or the people I care about, and Koshka and Hikage both fell under the caring a lot about category, no matter how much they flinched time to time at my embarrassing levels of affection towards them. They were human. They deserved love and respect and a way and right to exist.
Just as you reading this are human, too. And you deserve love. And respect. A right and a way to exist. That is what it meant to celebrate life, the philosophy that Kat and I espoused, the very one that came into Ayame in a sudden burst of defiance in our last chapter, in a grand show of her unwillingness to die. That's what it came down to, after all, was not so much a want to live but a refusal to wither up and rot in the ground just yet. You can do a lot when you're that stubborn about everything. And for that we were appreciative of her and proud for marrying herself so close to our own philosophy.
Once you realize that you are you and nobody else is you or can be you, not even any master or teacher you have, no matter how more skilled or respected they are than you, you become your own master and surpass their teachings. This is how humanity has lived since the dawn of time, since we could go upright, since we could think and form words and begin to etch out the infinite branches of language and culture and actions between us. This is how we have thrived and what will be the key to making us thrive forevermore is the ability to be even a bit better than the last generation.
Humanity was a spiral, a twisting double helix represented by mine and Kat's desperate climb into the stars and beyond, swirling forever more towards entropy, and a hot blooded force that only forges itself on its own irons and into the greater infinity that is our lives, no matter who or what would stand in our way, our ability to both be unmoved and yet forever going forth is what made us solve the timeless riddle of what would lose in a fight; the immovable object or the unstoppable force?
The answer was neither. We are both, and stopping ourselves would only detriment that.
Within this wisdom is where we find our freedom, our will to survive. Once you knock down one, you can go to ten, then a hundred, a thousand, and so forth. Our lives are all inertia, all energy spent towards the climax and the end of it all, but perhaps with just enough will and the want to live rather than to die, we could make it, and shoot past the end and into eternal bliss, a right to all living things.
It didn't have to come to an end yet. This tale will soon end, but with our new found mastering of our lives, we would propel beyond even the words on this page, be it in real life or fiction or rumor spread of our deeds on this day, but remember that all beginnings end, but all ends also forge a new beginning,
I am like iron hot to be struck and forged always, as are you. We all are. Beautiful existences and breaths of mortality, and the fact our lives were all destined to end is what drove us to greatness, to be remembered past our ends, to be the greatest names and to make all despair upon our works as they gazed at it in a glorious fuel of jealousy and inspiration, making them go forth and fight harder and shout more existentialism than even I could be here doing now.
You're worth it.
I'm worth it.
If you disagree, then I take you to the wall and beseech you to look again and find something to keep on going with, even if it's now a personal grudge against me to prove me wrong. I would welcome it. It's the basic human condition is to live in spite of it all, after all. So why not make it a worthy one and a glorious one and bring an honor upon your soul and a pride unto me that you would do better and end my rambling words and nonsense you say has no effect? I welcome you to try. Perhaps we could go out for tea and lunch afterwards. I would welcome the equaling blow of any opponent, be it verbal or physical or philosophical, and while I'm waxing poetic, we may as well fill our physical selves with something cheap and greasy but utterly satisfying to the soul and get something out of it even if you and I never see eye to eye or I to I.
We're all different, and in and of itself is beautiful, and the best proof I have that what I am saying works. It is again in this we find our freedom to be and will find ourselves invincible as we walk through life with the knowledge that we are harder, we are better, we are faster, we are stronger. Your life will be as your will in all things, and people will take notice whether you notice they do or not. Never give up.
Never. Give. Up.
Only trade yourself in for something of equal or greater value, and whether you ever find something worth that much is up to you and how much worth you place in yourself, but until then you must live. You must survive. You must thrive and prove all these motherfuckers are wrong and you aren't. It is in that we achieve greatness as a species and as individuals. This is how empires fall, but it is also how they begin.
This is the cycle of all things, the cycle of humanity, the cycle of excellence that shall propel us into space, the heavens, the universe, and perhaps beyond. We are immortal if only we try, and an unstoppable flame upon the darkness of infinity lighting even the most bleak of paths in the darkest of hours that have saved us from time immemorial.
This is how we came to be is we must thank all those that believed in these words and this style of will for forging the path despite it all so that even we may be born. Do we not owe them and our masters a try even for that facet alone?
Do we not also deserve better?
And in that I say I have found a true enlightenment, a grand showing of ego and the id as one. I would rather talk big and talk forever on such concepts than I would ever wish I could sooner give up and throw myself into the infinite darkness and bleakness of nihilism that so many stupidly get out of our branch of philosophy. If your answer is to lay down and die, then go as the dog you are, and I shall choose forever to forge a path upon your soul and hope even you can find peace in the world I will bring to us all. We have no time left to suffer fools. We never did, but whatever time you take from this will chip away at my ability to bring forth a better day for even whatever it was you left behind and did not seek to know nor care to ever have known.
There is a reason I have gone on now on my own personal thoughts on life. That despite it all, I have some motherfuckers to prove wrong. If even only that gets me out of bed every day, then I consider what I am doing correct. I am my own master, I am me, I am not the ones before me and while they may be able to kick my ass physically, they could never dominate me spiritually or mentally, and that is what mattered the most in the end of it all, and that is what they would deem my skill and call me my own master by, and what I would confer to any after me.
It's because Ryobi is a stupid motherfucker who didn't listen to a goddamn single one of those words I just said, and the gods knew that I had argued this with her many a time, if only to see her storm out of my apartment and back into hers in a whirlwind of frustration. After all, so long as she could literally say “Fuck you, got mine” and believe that in every part of her actions, what need did she have to aspire to better when she already assumed she was correct?
It is where her philosophy falls apart, but it is also where it is and always has been the most dangerous way to think. Sure, the selfishness and the Randian implications were annoying and like talking to a brick wall to attend to, but it could also lead to some amazingly irrational and compulsive actions, making her into possibly the greater villain of this tale. Sure, the Cyborg King and Yozakura were working on a global and now space level scale, working there ways up to “galactic threat” which naturally turns into “asshole of Andromeda” and finally “universal douchebag” but something is not quite as acidic or piercing as that one neighbor who won't give up no matter what it is you're doing to ignore them, regardless of how your feud started. The worst of history have always been over the most petty of grudges. Maybe if that art school had accepted Hitler, we wouldn't have had so much incredible fucking bullshit to tend with that we're still cleaning up the consequences of, but history has never played nice, and while victory will favor me and the more bold if only out of a sheer spite for these megalomaniacal kinds and our utter inability to lose or give up ever, all the conflicts in it usually start because someone couldn't keep it in their pants, be it physically or mentally.
In Ryobi's case, it was a case of being unable to keep her gun in her case, so let's go with a bit of both in the unable to keep it in the pants category. She loved to flash and show off, and had she a physical cock to her body and name, no doubt by now would it have its own holster and a bullet hidden behind it because you never know when someone is going to go and try to Tread On Me and nobody treads on her and her rights to be a supreme fucking asshole.
But so it goes. Those that do not learn of this history are the most doomed to repeat it, and another fucking war was started on this block, and now she had intent to end it.
I'm sure, from her probation officer's little work desk, she is now fuming and sitting and working on an internal monologue to rival the screed and creed I just spewed forth onto paper and into your brains, in an act of revenge and to get people on her side, but ultimately I would be proved right.
At the time, however, it did not appear that way.
Our girls had received our call and kept the news on, quietly watching as they saw not only the Cyborg King and Yozakura fail to deliver their speech, but a glimpse of us as we cheered Ayame on as she kicked the shit out of them and got Asuka out of a bind and into the fight, something that was immediately recorded and uploaded to YouTube for millions of hits under the title “Stupid Fascists Gets Face Rekt” which I could not come up with a better title even if you paid me to do so.
The fact that the Cyborg King was getting ready to launch early reeked only of desperation to them. Koshka made some notes for Hikage, and explained that this woman had always reeked of desperation, and it was more a relief than anything else that she dumped her so suddenly, as she had been planning on bailing soon herself. Saved her some work, at any rate. But her ability to hold a grudge even when it was her own damn fault things went wrong was legendary and now manifesting in universal domination was not at all something that surprised her.
But it meant that whatever Kat and I were doing, it was only our best efforts, and they were sure while things were tense now, this would have a happy end, as we were not the kind to let anything in life go unfinished, even if it took us a while, we did keep our word in the end, and that's what made them love us so.
It was then though that they heard their own door slam down. Well, Hikage did, Koshka felt it, and they armed themselves with their knives, dripping with the stains of rails of coke from earlier and a bit of melon juice from one of the melons that Homura paid them in, saying they needed more fruit in their diet.
It was the Cyborg King's forces.
The infiltration of California and Mexico and everywhere else connected to these states and countries, possibly even Canada, had begun. It would soon spell the end for our girls, our freedom, our rights, our everything. The satellite had launched, and while it was fused to the body and soul of the King herself, it began emitting the waves needed to turn her soldiers into these overpowered drones that would march forth and turn the Americas into a wasteland. It looked like the end of it all.
And on the other side of it all was one particular motherfucker laughing her ass off as she slung her rifle over her shoulder. One of the guards walked by and knocked the ankle bracelet off, rising her up and declaring her their new boss as thanks for tipping them off as to where the biggest rebel sympathizers lived. Ryobi would be king of California and turn it into her own fascist, gun toting state, a free range for her to shoot anything at. She would be free of her terms of probation, and she would finally say goodbye to Sonoma County.
“You stupid sluts, did you really think you whores would get away with being the poor damsels that your shitty dyke girlfriends were protecting and saving the day for? I got connections you can't even touch.” Ryobi bragged, flipping our girls off a big one, surrounding them with the guards she had called in, if only to see them squirm. “You come into MY apartment complex, you fuck with MY security system, you fuck with MY values and MY flag, you're going to get what's coming to you, and this is it, so I hope you enjoy some long lines of gulag life up your ass, shoved up to your teeth where it belongs, you stupid, red sympathizing, disgusting, big tittied no life cows!”
Hikage and Koshka just sighed. They really, really should have seen this coming, and while as annoying as it was to have their day shat on like this, the implication that Ryobi would be the one to bring them down annoyed them more. They drew their knives, and while Koshka didn't hear a word she said, Ryobi did her best to sign it and it mostly consisted of the double bird and the universal sign for cunnilingus, so she figured she was just being a loud dipshit like always. Either way, it wasn't the way they wanted to end their weekend and deemed it a perfectly good waste of melon eating time. That shit was tasty and normally Homura charged a premium for them, but hos before bros and all, so seeing something so delicious be left to possibly rot behind them also annoyed them further.
The two waved their hands and beckoned the soldiers to come after them. If they were going to go down, it wouldn't be without breaking some faces, be they of humans or androids or drones or something more in between.
Things were looking dire on all sides.
Their fight below for their melon, their apartment, their wonderful state of California, all over a shitty neighbor dispute.
Our fight above, in the heavens, twinkling on forever more, in our vision of the rice fields and bamboo and the audience that would soon be cheering us on the world over as the interrupted broadcast netted us more and more fans.
The Cyborg King's forces stood tall on both ends, her goons and equipment over by our girls.
And her herself, a mutated form of once human spirit, in a twisted and super giant mechanical form, stood before us, blocking our way to freedom.
Only one side was going to prevail, and an eerie silence fell across the whole planet as things shifted from the failed broadcast to the Cyborg King's twisted visage and she began to force all stations, all radios, all sets to broadcast our fight.
All that was left to break the silence was a final round of taunts. You don't start these kinds of things without them.
“Any last words?” Nadezhda asked us.
“Eat Shit!” Kat and I shouted in tandem, since some things just remain universal.
“Hahaha, fitting for such lowlifes as you two. Fine, prepare yourselves! This world is now mine! ALL SHALL KNEEL BEFORE ME!” The King cackled before throwing in one last line.
“AND YOU SHALL BE THE FIRST TO GO!”