Lady Moon: (Inside mental institution, in straightjacket) Ah, welcome to my
padded cell /humble abode. Why don't you get comfortable? I'll get one of
those nice men in white coats to get you one of these cool jackets!
Man In White Coat: Lady Moon, they're not here for a space in your cell, they're here for your disclaimer. (Pause. Nothing happens) If you do it, we'll set you free amongst the unsuspecting public (sighs).
LM: ALRIGHT! Er, Final Fantasy VIII and anything else I mention (like Animorphs) DON'T belong to me. Vicky, Gabby, Di, Sarah, Boris the Bike and the Bongos of Doom DO. Steal the Dos, and suffer the wrath of Bob the Mallet! (Pause) He belongs to me too.
Another M.I.W.C: (Sighs) OK, you can go.
LM: YIPPEE! Er, Can I keep the jacket? It might come in useful.
WORLD HOPPING
Prologue
Good and Evil. Light and Darkness. Angels and Devils. God and Satan. Many would say that they're just words. `Just something the Church made up to scare you`, that's what they say.
But what they forget is that you don't have to see something for it to exist. God and Satan DO exist. But their homes are not anywhere this world. They are in some separate galaxy. Perhaps it's at the very edge, perhaps it's in the middle.
Who knows?
What we DO know is that there are thousands of worlds. Pokèworld, Digiworld. Both as real as you and I. Every story, every game exists on its own world.
God and Satan have always known about them. And they have always fought about which one of them should rule them. Each world has had its share of Satan's creations. And God's saviours. Take the Animorphs' world for example. Satan sent the Yeerks to control the humans, God sent Elfangor to give the power of morphing to the Animorphs. Get the idea?
But why? Why must they fight? In answer, we ca only ask the question we have always asked.
Who knows?
***********************************************************************
Chapter 1: More Than A Grudge
"****!" Satan swore. The vodka he'd been drinking was already spreading out on the carpet. No one could see it, as the carpet was black, but it meant he had to come out of sulking four days early so that he could get new bottle.
As he stomped out of his room, he pressed a black button near the top of the door. The black rectangle's fiery message of `Sulking. Enter, and die` disappeared, and was then replaced by fresh flames. They curved around and spread out, spelling `Gone for a drink. Enter without permission, and die`.
When he returned, with seven more bottles, he groaned as he saw the door. The flames had disappeared, and a new message was written in bright white light. He didn't have to read it. He'd already seen it over ten-billion times. In his head, he recited, "` Do not enter unless you want to be blasted by Divine Influence.` And he says we're obsessed with killing."
He carefully raised a foot and pushed the door open. A beam of light shot out. It would of hit him, but he side-stepped, and the beam struck a passing demon. There was a scream, then it exploded.
Satan cursed. Demons were the female versions of Devils. Both of them were shape-shifters, both of them could possess, and both of them could read minds. However, whilst Devils possessed instantly, Demons preferred to move into the brain as a voice, and slowly take the person over. Devils were excellent fighters, perfect for the constant war against God's Angels, but when it came to possessing, Demons ruled supreme. And there was one more thing.
Demons were whom the master of Darkness bred with.
He staggered inside, placed his bottles on the ebony sofa, then muttered, "I wish you wouldn't do that."
A calm, yet strict, voice answered, "How was I supposed to know it was you?"
Satan glared at him, "You're always going on about how you can sense where I am. You just fire because you could destroy a Demon."
God was dressed in a pure white robe, which had always reminded Satan of a dressing-gown. His long white hair was tied together in five plaits, and his beard had been treated in a similar fashion. His feet wore a pair of white slippers, and white fire surrounded his right hand; the remains of the beam of light.
Reaching inside his coat pocket, Satan withdrew a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He hated the way God always glowed. He looked, in Satan's opinion, like an extra-bright firefly with much more than the usual amount of hair, and constantly looking like it had just had a bath.
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," God answered. When translated into normal- speak, that meant `I did, but it wasn't very holy, so I won't admit it.`.
Satan snapped the neck off one of his bottles and poured the foul liquid down his throat. When he'd finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "What do ya want?"
God held up two fingers, "Two things. First, what do you think? Ponytail or bunches?" He gestured at his hair.
It took all of Satan's strength not to throw up at the idea of RECOMMENDING hairstyles to his rival. Weakly, he whispered, "Bunches. Same for ya.beard."
The ruler of Light smiled, satisfied, "And, second, that weird world's mine. The one with the guardian forces and sorceresses and stuff. You know, the one you used Ultigreecia for?"
"Ultimecia," Satan corrected, "and I know which one you mean. I used THREE of my best sorceresses on that world! For NOTHING!"
"So you've got a grudge against it?"
"Not against the WORLD. Just against those SeeDs of yours. Especially the storm. With them, it's a grudge. But with HIM, it's more than a grudge."
God glanced at the door. `The storm` was what Satan called Squall. He looked back, "So? What are you going to do?"
The master of Darkness smiled and tapped the side of his sunglasses, "I have a plan. And this time, he isn't going to stop me."
***************************************************************************
God stomped inside one of the many cloud buildings in Heaven, and saw Metatron, with blazing red eyes. He (God) screamed, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
Metatron stared, then realised what was the matter, "Oh, my coloured contact lenses arrived today. What do you think?"
His master was still recovering, "R.red contact l.lenses? Why RED? They make you look like one of Satan's cronies!"
The angel pouted, "No need to be nasty. Did you have a rough time with Satan or something?"
God sighed and flopped into a cloud armchair, "He doesn't want to let that world go. Apparently, Squall really gets under his.er.scales."
"So?" Metatron asked, trading his contacts for a pair of spectacles. He didn't think that angels should wear glasses, but if they spared him God's screams, he could put up with them.
"He's sending Ardra there," God muttered. Metatron winced. Ardra was the Queen of the Demons, and the very best possessor. Even when she had finished with a body, it still remained slightly under her control.
"What are you going to do?"
God absent-mindedly started plaiting his beard into one huge plait, "I COULD try sending people from a different world there, but who? A fighter would mess it, but so would someone to whom a weapon is a six-letter word beginning with `w`."
"So you need a mixture. How about a group of friends who can take care of themselves, but aren't too violent? You know what I mean?"
"Hmm." God considered the idea, "God considered the idea, "Sounds good. Some people who know exactly what to do."
"You do know that WE have to take care of the luggage, right?" Metatron cut into his musings, "If we have to pack for girls. I'm not doing the underwear. I know some would enjoy it, but I am strongly opposed to packing items which cover a girls you-know-whats." The angel fidgeted slightly as he finished. Underwear wasn't exactly an angelic subject.
He reddened as he heard his master chuckling, "Pity. Females can sometimes be much more efficient than males. In fact." The master of Light paused, as if sensing something, "In fact, there are four PERFECT girls on the Earth which, ironically, has Squall's world as a game. One's quite an expert actually."
Metatron removed his glasses, and blinked several times. His vision had started to blur over three-hundred years ago. Glasses and contacts un- blurred his outer-eye, but they blurred his Inner-eye. If he wanted to sense what other angels did, he had to have blurred outer-sight. It was very annoying.
Gradually, the room started to darken. Then voices began to seep into his mind, followed by vague images of who had said them.
"Seifer can be a real pain to draw sometimes," a girl with a blonde ponytail and a pencil tucked behind her right ear giggled, before fading away.
"He's so CUTE though!" another blonde, this time with loose hair, screamed, before disappearing.
"What happened to Irvine? Or was it Squall?" a girl with long, black hair tied into a single plait Lara Croft style asked. Then she vanished too.
"Irvine, Squall, AND Zell. And, apparently, she's over all of them. However, after she's told me that, she fainted when I used Irvine to get a Grat," a fourth girl, this one a brunette wearing a black Indiana Jones hat with a shimmering silver stripe on it, grinned. After she had gone, the room came back into focus.
Metatron replaced his glasses, and looked over at God, "Sounds like a fun bunch."
God nodded, as all the information about the four girls flowed into his head:
`Blonde with pencil and ponytail: Sarah
Blonde with loose hair: Gabby
Black-haired with plait: Diana
Brunette with hat: Vicky
Sarah: Artist, Nickname: Cloud Ishida
Gabby: Ice skater, girlfriend, Nickname: Gabs
Diana: Gymnast, Nickname: Di
Vicky: Author, martial-artist, Nickname: Lady Moon, Vicks`
God massaged his temples as more information seeped in. These girls were COM-PLI-CA-TED. Cousins, lost parents, divorce, love-lives.
Eventually, the waves of information ceased. Weakly, God looked up, "They can make it. They have to."
Metatron raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
"Because something tells me they're the only ones who can."
LM: (Is firing gun at random innocent people) Ha HAH! I AM FREE! FREE! YOU SHALL ALL DIE!
(Irvine appears out of a conveniently placed rift in the space-time continuum and fires a sedative at her)
LM: FOR THAT, YOU SHALL. Oh, bugger. (She falls forward and starts snoring. Loudly.)
Irvine: WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?! (When she does not obey, he casts Silence on her) THERE! THANKYOU! (He retrieves his sedative so he can use it on Zell, then jumps back in the rift. Thousands of fangirls follow, and then get kicked out.)
Lady Moon
Man In White Coat: Lady Moon, they're not here for a space in your cell, they're here for your disclaimer. (Pause. Nothing happens) If you do it, we'll set you free amongst the unsuspecting public (sighs).
LM: ALRIGHT! Er, Final Fantasy VIII and anything else I mention (like Animorphs) DON'T belong to me. Vicky, Gabby, Di, Sarah, Boris the Bike and the Bongos of Doom DO. Steal the Dos, and suffer the wrath of Bob the Mallet! (Pause) He belongs to me too.
Another M.I.W.C: (Sighs) OK, you can go.
LM: YIPPEE! Er, Can I keep the jacket? It might come in useful.
WORLD HOPPING
Prologue
Good and Evil. Light and Darkness. Angels and Devils. God and Satan. Many would say that they're just words. `Just something the Church made up to scare you`, that's what they say.
But what they forget is that you don't have to see something for it to exist. God and Satan DO exist. But their homes are not anywhere this world. They are in some separate galaxy. Perhaps it's at the very edge, perhaps it's in the middle.
Who knows?
What we DO know is that there are thousands of worlds. Pokèworld, Digiworld. Both as real as you and I. Every story, every game exists on its own world.
God and Satan have always known about them. And they have always fought about which one of them should rule them. Each world has had its share of Satan's creations. And God's saviours. Take the Animorphs' world for example. Satan sent the Yeerks to control the humans, God sent Elfangor to give the power of morphing to the Animorphs. Get the idea?
But why? Why must they fight? In answer, we ca only ask the question we have always asked.
Who knows?
***********************************************************************
Chapter 1: More Than A Grudge
"****!" Satan swore. The vodka he'd been drinking was already spreading out on the carpet. No one could see it, as the carpet was black, but it meant he had to come out of sulking four days early so that he could get new bottle.
As he stomped out of his room, he pressed a black button near the top of the door. The black rectangle's fiery message of `Sulking. Enter, and die` disappeared, and was then replaced by fresh flames. They curved around and spread out, spelling `Gone for a drink. Enter without permission, and die`.
When he returned, with seven more bottles, he groaned as he saw the door. The flames had disappeared, and a new message was written in bright white light. He didn't have to read it. He'd already seen it over ten-billion times. In his head, he recited, "` Do not enter unless you want to be blasted by Divine Influence.` And he says we're obsessed with killing."
He carefully raised a foot and pushed the door open. A beam of light shot out. It would of hit him, but he side-stepped, and the beam struck a passing demon. There was a scream, then it exploded.
Satan cursed. Demons were the female versions of Devils. Both of them were shape-shifters, both of them could possess, and both of them could read minds. However, whilst Devils possessed instantly, Demons preferred to move into the brain as a voice, and slowly take the person over. Devils were excellent fighters, perfect for the constant war against God's Angels, but when it came to possessing, Demons ruled supreme. And there was one more thing.
Demons were whom the master of Darkness bred with.
He staggered inside, placed his bottles on the ebony sofa, then muttered, "I wish you wouldn't do that."
A calm, yet strict, voice answered, "How was I supposed to know it was you?"
Satan glared at him, "You're always going on about how you can sense where I am. You just fire because you could destroy a Demon."
God was dressed in a pure white robe, which had always reminded Satan of a dressing-gown. His long white hair was tied together in five plaits, and his beard had been treated in a similar fashion. His feet wore a pair of white slippers, and white fire surrounded his right hand; the remains of the beam of light.
Reaching inside his coat pocket, Satan withdrew a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He hated the way God always glowed. He looked, in Satan's opinion, like an extra-bright firefly with much more than the usual amount of hair, and constantly looking like it had just had a bath.
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," God answered. When translated into normal- speak, that meant `I did, but it wasn't very holy, so I won't admit it.`.
Satan snapped the neck off one of his bottles and poured the foul liquid down his throat. When he'd finished, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "What do ya want?"
God held up two fingers, "Two things. First, what do you think? Ponytail or bunches?" He gestured at his hair.
It took all of Satan's strength not to throw up at the idea of RECOMMENDING hairstyles to his rival. Weakly, he whispered, "Bunches. Same for ya.beard."
The ruler of Light smiled, satisfied, "And, second, that weird world's mine. The one with the guardian forces and sorceresses and stuff. You know, the one you used Ultigreecia for?"
"Ultimecia," Satan corrected, "and I know which one you mean. I used THREE of my best sorceresses on that world! For NOTHING!"
"So you've got a grudge against it?"
"Not against the WORLD. Just against those SeeDs of yours. Especially the storm. With them, it's a grudge. But with HIM, it's more than a grudge."
God glanced at the door. `The storm` was what Satan called Squall. He looked back, "So? What are you going to do?"
The master of Darkness smiled and tapped the side of his sunglasses, "I have a plan. And this time, he isn't going to stop me."
***************************************************************************
God stomped inside one of the many cloud buildings in Heaven, and saw Metatron, with blazing red eyes. He (God) screamed, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
Metatron stared, then realised what was the matter, "Oh, my coloured contact lenses arrived today. What do you think?"
His master was still recovering, "R.red contact l.lenses? Why RED? They make you look like one of Satan's cronies!"
The angel pouted, "No need to be nasty. Did you have a rough time with Satan or something?"
God sighed and flopped into a cloud armchair, "He doesn't want to let that world go. Apparently, Squall really gets under his.er.scales."
"So?" Metatron asked, trading his contacts for a pair of spectacles. He didn't think that angels should wear glasses, but if they spared him God's screams, he could put up with them.
"He's sending Ardra there," God muttered. Metatron winced. Ardra was the Queen of the Demons, and the very best possessor. Even when she had finished with a body, it still remained slightly under her control.
"What are you going to do?"
God absent-mindedly started plaiting his beard into one huge plait, "I COULD try sending people from a different world there, but who? A fighter would mess it, but so would someone to whom a weapon is a six-letter word beginning with `w`."
"So you need a mixture. How about a group of friends who can take care of themselves, but aren't too violent? You know what I mean?"
"Hmm." God considered the idea, "God considered the idea, "Sounds good. Some people who know exactly what to do."
"You do know that WE have to take care of the luggage, right?" Metatron cut into his musings, "If we have to pack for girls. I'm not doing the underwear. I know some would enjoy it, but I am strongly opposed to packing items which cover a girls you-know-whats." The angel fidgeted slightly as he finished. Underwear wasn't exactly an angelic subject.
He reddened as he heard his master chuckling, "Pity. Females can sometimes be much more efficient than males. In fact." The master of Light paused, as if sensing something, "In fact, there are four PERFECT girls on the Earth which, ironically, has Squall's world as a game. One's quite an expert actually."
Metatron removed his glasses, and blinked several times. His vision had started to blur over three-hundred years ago. Glasses and contacts un- blurred his outer-eye, but they blurred his Inner-eye. If he wanted to sense what other angels did, he had to have blurred outer-sight. It was very annoying.
Gradually, the room started to darken. Then voices began to seep into his mind, followed by vague images of who had said them.
"Seifer can be a real pain to draw sometimes," a girl with a blonde ponytail and a pencil tucked behind her right ear giggled, before fading away.
"He's so CUTE though!" another blonde, this time with loose hair, screamed, before disappearing.
"What happened to Irvine? Or was it Squall?" a girl with long, black hair tied into a single plait Lara Croft style asked. Then she vanished too.
"Irvine, Squall, AND Zell. And, apparently, she's over all of them. However, after she's told me that, she fainted when I used Irvine to get a Grat," a fourth girl, this one a brunette wearing a black Indiana Jones hat with a shimmering silver stripe on it, grinned. After she had gone, the room came back into focus.
Metatron replaced his glasses, and looked over at God, "Sounds like a fun bunch."
God nodded, as all the information about the four girls flowed into his head:
`Blonde with pencil and ponytail: Sarah
Blonde with loose hair: Gabby
Black-haired with plait: Diana
Brunette with hat: Vicky
Sarah: Artist, Nickname: Cloud Ishida
Gabby: Ice skater, girlfriend, Nickname: Gabs
Diana: Gymnast, Nickname: Di
Vicky: Author, martial-artist, Nickname: Lady Moon, Vicks`
God massaged his temples as more information seeped in. These girls were COM-PLI-CA-TED. Cousins, lost parents, divorce, love-lives.
Eventually, the waves of information ceased. Weakly, God looked up, "They can make it. They have to."
Metatron raised an eyebrow, "Why?"
"Because something tells me they're the only ones who can."
LM: (Is firing gun at random innocent people) Ha HAH! I AM FREE! FREE! YOU SHALL ALL DIE!
(Irvine appears out of a conveniently placed rift in the space-time continuum and fires a sedative at her)
LM: FOR THAT, YOU SHALL. Oh, bugger. (She falls forward and starts snoring. Loudly.)
Irvine: WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?! (When she does not obey, he casts Silence on her) THERE! THANKYOU! (He retrieves his sedative so he can use it on Zell, then jumps back in the rift. Thousands of fangirls follow, and then get kicked out.)
Lady Moon