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[personal profile] atma posting in [community profile] heroicrecords
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Back in the heart of San Francisco’s Castro district, where New Hanzo lay, appropriately so, an army was assembling. Soon, the forces of evil would gather ‘neath everyone, pooling their demonic energy and resources needed to stop the heroes in their tracks and lead this nation unto a path of darkness unlike that anyone else had seen yet. But for the heroes still standing, it wasn’t over until it was over, and if they had any chance to survive, then they would have to take this seriously and write their names down as if prophecy was correct, as really, if Roosevelt and Bierce came to you, revealed that history was a lie and that they were really women, to the point that even the most historical of scrolls and books would come to reflect this newfound reality, would you argue with them as to what was and wasn’t correct? After all, they were the ones with bullets and knives enchanted from the Heavens above, glowing gloriously to defeat the demons that even Katsuragi and Atma struggled with. Their teachers would be their friends, their lovers, and even former enemies come all in tandem to teach them the most valuable lesson of all when it came to confronting destiny.

The power of honesty. Sometimes, you just had to stay black and die, stay true to yourself, and everything would turn out in the end. Too bad these two Kings had such a lady hard-on for each other but wouldn’t admit it. Whatever it was that everyone else around them kept implying it was. They huffed and took their usual seats by the edge of the tables, kicking their feet up, Atma holding on to her sword as they got in and buckled up, so to speak, and looked around the table. Not even their own women were giving them any sympathetic looks. That’s how they knew things were dire. Ryobi sat with a smug sort of satisfaction you could only get from a potentially reformed criminal, even if all she was reforming for was herself. Whatever it was she had to pay to get the restrictions off her freedoms and ability to shoot me off of her record, the better, and if she could show these two Kings who put her here up to begin with, she’d gladly take it. For once, she was in charge of their fate, not the other way around, and it delighted her so much to take a part in this session.

It was no wonder that Bierce and Roosevelt had sought her and everyone else out for this. The Crimson Squad did their usual posturing bullshit as they sat around and grinned, their cards on the table, both literal and otherwise, having been interrupted in a nice game of friendly strip poker when Atma and Katsuragi had arrived. Got to do something while you wait for your chance to look good and shine forth like the sun and like the name of the state they now lived in implied. With a huff and a grin, they propped themselves up and winked towards Hikage, who nodded to Katsuragi and Atma. A few of them had taken it upon themselves to learn a minimum of sign language, as to motion secret things to Koshka, whom noted her amusement at their antics back. For once, Koshka was glad that Katsuragi and Atma had been too lazy to pay attention to their sign language courses. This meant she could sneak things behind their back but doing so in front of them in broad daylight gave her an extra bit of joy out of the whole thing. It sure beat typing for a living.

They group of new heroes looked up at the Kings, as if expecting them to come up with something heroic at any second, grinning and cocking their eyebrows up in curiosity. The two Kings were flushed, frustrated at each other for existing and daring to play with the others’ heart, and their assistant and forever fangirl Ayame pat both on the head, sympathizing with each of their emotions towards each other. But now was not the time to play romance or anything else fanciful, and they sat their bags down and eventually broke the silence. You can only take so much of a group of hot women staring at you before you crack, even if it’s women you know damn well and you know that know you damn well in return. Though the Kings were sure that was all part of their game and their amusement was seeing them squirm as such.

Atma spoke up first, simple and to the point. “You all look like I’m a birthday gift and you’re ready to unwrap me. Now normally I wouldn’t complain, and I will admit I have dreamed of this, but it’s only so much I can take from even a bunch of pretty girls before even I begin to question the veracity of the situation. So, if I’m to believe the two women and envoys that traveled with Katsuragi and Ayame and I, then you all are to teach us something about unity?”

“That’s right!” beamed Homura, putting a flat hand on the table and stepping one foot up, looking Atma in the eye before continuing. “After all, that’s what we all specialize in. You of all people though should know that it takes more than one to tango, and it’s us of the Crimson Squad to teach you how to work alongside each other better, lest you forget that your women are essentially part of our team at the end of the day. Oh, and I guess Ryobi’s here, too. Let’s not forget here, lest we pay the dire consequences for doing so.”

Ryobi propped herself up against a doorway with confidence, one foot up as she crossed her arms, her trusty rifle next to her against the wall as she grinned and sneered far and wide. She knew her time had come, and anything to help shave off her debts to society was welcome, especially if it meant putting a bullet in the head of someone on a far less rung than she was. The genuine scum. Not her and her over-zealous nature when it came to anything and everything explosive.

“Heehee, so look who’s come crawling back to my expertise. See, I told you two that my going to all these gun shows and whatnot just wasn’t because I’m cute and can get good deals. I know my way around grenades more than you do women. Trust me on this, babe.” Ryobi laughed, twirling her gun around and resting it on her shoulders, aping Roosevelt’s stance as much as she could. “You want out of this? You’re going to have to fight your way through it, and ain’t nobody know fucking more about that than I do. And as far as honesty goes? Look, if you can’t trust a sister-fucking and sister-trainin son of a bitch like me, who can you?”

“She has a point, as much as I am loathe to admit she does.” Hikage sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Even Koshka agrees, as per her notes she gave me here to read off on various subjects. You know the second you two got your clues, before it was you even left up north, these two so-called and self proclaimed envoys contacted us, right? They had us assembled here and instructed further before you could even begin to say ‘Bohemian Grove’ or ‘Illuminati’ or whomever it is behind this. Someone boring, if I’m reading their history right. You Americans and your political melodrama.”

Koshka just shrugged in unison, pointing to her crew. The lot of them were already in a transformed state, just in case, wasting no time or energy in maintaining their shinobi forms. Even Koshka was, wearing her trademark shinobi’s ushanka, complete with winter soldier gear and her own gun of choice, an extremely Russian one. Everything about her was red as her hammer and sickle were, and a flask of ultra strong shinobi vodka sat her hip, half empty from taking a swig already. It helped her focus on the task at hand, if nothing else. She just thumbed at Hikage and the Squad and implored the Kings to listen, especially pointing at her girl, Atma.

“So what you’re saying is things are very real if even you all are listening?” Katsuragi asked, suddenly peering over at Koshka. “Er, no offense. Uh, not that you can hear me. Ahh, crap, I’ll shut up now. I’m a real boob, aha.”

“These are your greatest allies, are they not?” Roosevelt asked. “If an’ yer ready to train, then Atma will go with the snakey one, and Goldie here will go with the deaf one. Y’all got something to say to each other, but I fear the only way yer gonna listen to each other is through the others’ woman. Somethin’ about them will make you listen, so go on, get, the rest of us will plan war and do push ups, or is that the other way ‘round? I always get those confused!”

Midst her laughter, Bierce nodded and assembled everyone else, taking a particular liking to Ryobi as she did. “Hey you, I like you, so you’re gonna be in charge of our surprise attack unit, you hear? I want you all ready to help these two girls out, and only after they’re done listening to the boss lady and each others’ women. Boy, what I wouldn’t pay to be a fly on that wall, you know what I’m saying?”

The groups split off from there, Koshka urging Katsuragi to follow her outside, taking her by the arm and dragging her face first if she had to towards the gardens they kept towards the center of the building. Hikage sighed and just tapped Atma on the shoulder, urging her to come with her as they surveyed the rooftops together, waving goodbye as they would to the other King, wondering when they’d get to see the other again. Things were getting more than dire, and they knew it well if it meant they’d have to play sneak around in public with everyone knowing with each others’ girl. Talk about wife swapping. Before they knew it, they left their friends to their charges with the envoys and the Kings were soon alone with the women that the other trusted most, entrusting their own lives over to them as if they belonged to the other lover. They would have smiled normally, as they had dreamed about such a situation frequently, but it wasn’t quite how they had envisioned any of this coming true at all. Yes, in bed, but a lecture given by them? This was kind of the opposite.

Maybe it was all a dream. A nightmare so to speak, what with how boring the whole situation was becoming. Though if it was a nightmare, they’d also all already be naked more so than they’d like to be usually, back stuck in middle school, their teeth falling out, and in dire need of a toilet, and if you came here looking for the latter, boy are you going to leave this story, well, high and dry so to speak. Sorry to disappoint you all. But we are storytellers of quality and a quality story we shall tell. Some other time, maybe, at the cross section of imaginations.

The first to do anything with the other, be it for or against them, was Katsuragi and Koshka. For a woman of few words and even less hearing, Koshka knew damn well how to get a point across. She took Katsuragi to the garden in the middle of the school, where a few benches sat midst flowers and vegetables and herbs and, well, other interesting things they were growing, nobody else around save for maybe a guard or two that would walk by now and again, surveying the area as needed. Katsuragi was a talkative and a noisy one, which made Koshka glad she couldn’t hear, even when in her full shinobi transformation, it didn’t help her channel a bit of it back to her ears. Instead, she relied on behavior, faces, stances, and the vibrations from any noise coming around. No music played, and nothing stomped or boomed as so annoyed the Russian, leaving her to keep her gun slung over her shoulder, sighing and making a rare sound as she could, her voice oddly deep and rough for whom and what she was, looking over at the blonde with an immense glare. She was tired, she was exhausted, but there was a strong flavor of determination peppering her look, giving her a face only a Russian mother would be able to love, her sun-tanned skin and long dirt brown hair contrasted against her faint red uniform and the greens and blues and yellows that dotted the garden. She was like a fish out of water and inside her belly, for she was oh so fond of seafood, which explained why she got along so well with Homura and her squad and Homura’s horrible and fishy sense of humor.

Koshka glared into the blonde’s eyes, deep and quiet, long and piercing. No wonder Atma was so attracted to her. Besides being a genuine cougar, a nice, long, tan one at that, body covered in tattoos and scars and other markings of a genuine revolutionary, where it peeked in through her uniform that is, she was a tough old bitch. But in a good way. This was the look that kept even Atma in line, keeping her behaved and disciplined through her days and years, long before she even met Katsuragi, and wlel into their friendship. There was no argument between them about faith or lack thereof or guns against swords or any other kind of petty, everyday nonsense that peasants might argue, but a genuine bond of trust. You’d have to form one to keep going in a relationship as long and genuine as theirs and not ever be able to hear a word the other is saying, either because you can’t hear or the other can’t talk because they can’t hear themselves hear. Despite her age, she was young and vigorous looking and acting, only responding to Katsuragi’s various motions in huffs and sighs. That was the only thing she ever vocalized, beyond somehow learning to shout the word “No!” as needed, which confused and thus ended many an enemy’s lives when the deaf girl came out screaming and offing them one by one. In a way, her lack of hearing made her an exemplary Shinobi. Ain’t nobody going to argue with the girl who couldn’t even hear herself coming, not just you.

The blonde tried her best to say something in what limited motions and signing she bothered to pick up from Hikage and her friends, hoping to open up some kind of communication beyond the immense death glare she was being served up by Atma’s girlfriend. She hadn’t felt half as judged ever even by her own instructors, by her own enemies, by demons even than she was that dreadful gaze that only Koshka could give, both sitting silent. It was the silence that was getting to her, and knowing she couldn’t make noise to fill the gap to make Koshka notice her or break it off, watching as the Russian slumped her face over into a fist resting on her knee, clicking her tongue against her lips a bit and letting out a hard, deep, cold breath, Katsuragi raised her own hands up and began to do what she knew how to do best with them; she began to grope at the air as if the air were a mistress with a pair of tits she couldn’t quite ignore.

Squish, boing. Squish, boing. She hoped to bring some levity to this all, sighing when it did nothing. After a moment, Koshka decided to bust out a small pad of paper and write down something on it, handing it to Katsuragi and going back to her own strong, judging stare. Kat looked at her, a bit lost, and unfolded the note, reading it aloud to herself.

“Hey, you gonna stare at my tits all day, or what? By the way, that doesn’t mean what you think it means in sign language. You admitting you’re a monster? Since that’s what that actually means, not whatever boob thing your tit-obsessed mind is thinking. Well, it’s about time, since that’s what that motion means without a pair of tits on the other end to latch onto. Either way, you know, you should tell Atma how you really feel. I’m more disappointed you haven’t done so than the fact you like her to begin with. If I didn’t approve of you two being into each other, I’d have stepped in long before now. California depends on your twos’ unity. And that means in this way, too. Now, you gonna be honest and tell her you love her or am I gonna have to smack you?”

Katsuragi snorted, admittedly feeling a bit defeated at the whole thing. She looked at Koshka and nodded, as if to say she understood the gravity of the situation and her note.

Koshka just thanked her by slapping her in the back of the head once anyways. It pays to drive the lesson in on home. Afterwards, she nodded and dragged Katsuragi back to the war room. It was very much like handling Atma, albeit on a more blatant level, something she never thought possible. At least, if nothing else, that guaranteed the direct approach would work as it proved itself to do so just now and all.

On the other side of the building, up on its highest roof, sat Hikage and Atma. Now these two, if they so deigned to, could speak to each other and the other could hear. They just chose not to for a while. Hikage is a woman of few words, and Atma was a woman of many, but when it came down to it, in situations like these, it was hard for her to get hype and gain momentum. So there was a standstill for a while. Atma watched as the serpent woman tossed her knife up and down, twirling it and catching it in various interesting ways, distracting herself almost from the reality at hand. Eventually, like Katsuragi, she had to say something. Anything.

“Hey...” Atma began. “What’s up?”

“You gonna be nice to my Katsuragi?” Hikage was blunt, almost annoyingly so, on the spot and piercing the right target as always. “Or am I going to have to break your neck if you break her heart?”

“What?” Atma was taken aback a bit at this threat. Whatever could she possibly mean? “I-I’m good to her! We’re best friends! I wouldn’t ever betray her!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Hikage sighed, tossing her knife down just past Atma’s foot, keeping her paying attention. “Look, we both know you’re in love with her. Koshka knows. We’re not fucking stupid. The only one who doesn’t know is Katsuragi, and that’s because the gods saw fit to make two of you this dense to other womens’ feelings no matter how bold you are acting around them, and if you think you’re getting out of this alive is if you fucking talk and admit shit. You think that prophecy was kidding around? I been around along enough as a shinobi to know not tho question anything from anyone higher up, unless it’s that direct a threat to your morals.”

Atma just sat, quiet, swallowing hard, turning red. She had no way to disprove any of what she said. There was no genuine counterargument here.

“I don’t care. If I did, I’d have stopped you all long ago when Koshka and I first noticed that you two were giving each other bedroom eyes more than worth your usual one night stands. Just so long as you treat her well and bring her back to me when you’re done, you two are free to fuck around all you want. And it’s not just because destiny is demanding a pair of kings in unison. Even without this threat, California and America both deserve leaders honest with themselves and with each other.” Hikage sighed and began to move towards Atma, slow, going to retrieve her knife. “Though while I have you, I may as well test you for, well, certain skill sets. I want to make sure you’ll make my Katsuragi happy.”

Atma gulped. “Y-You mean?”

“Yes, that. Now get on your knees, samurai. I wanna see how you beg.”

Time passed. Eventually, Koshka and Katsuragi made it to the roof where Hikage and Atma were, wholly planning on confessing to Atma as Koshka had so wisely suggested of her. However, they were greeted with the voices, or at least Katsuragi was, of someones doing some things potentially not suitable for television or this story.

Hikage’s voice boomed, out of sight, “Yeah, that’s it, lick that blade clean. I want to see this knife dance around your tongue. After that, we’ll see if you’re allowed in its scabbard, eh?”

Katsuragi stopped Koshka in her tracks, turning bright red, pointing her thumb towards the direction the voices were coming in. She wanted to make a sign to Koshka that inferred “Uh, they’re uh, busy. We’ll have to come back later. Trust me, it’s for our own good.” and accidentally signed the universal signal for eating a girl out instead. Koshka just rolled her eyes and sighed, taking her back down to the war room to wait for the others.

Destiny could wait for dirty deeds to be done dirt cheap.
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The Hall of Heroes | Atma's Writing Dump

December 2016

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