Chapter 6 – Explosive Subliminal Messages

A loud rumbling noise suddenly shook everything just as 3:00AM came. Explosions came from outside, breaching Cravat's ears, giving him a rude awakening. He fluttered his eyes open, just to be met by a blinding white light that flashed passed the window. He felt around his head and removed his headphones and MP3, tucking them away in a corner of the sofa he slept on.

"Honestly, these Ghosts, so inconsiderate," he yawned as sat up straight. He looked around and saw the TV monitor flickering. Seems like he forgot to put it on a sleep-timer. Using the faint light, he found the remote and turned the TV off. Now it was all dark again. Another flash at the window, and he had to cover his eyes so he wouldn't go blind. First the girls now this. Will he ever get to sleep soundly? Okay, rhetorical question. Of course not. The thought had become nothing more than a long forgotten dream over the past month. Cravat went up to the window and opened it, looking around as he poked his head outside. Sure enough, hundreds of dancing lights came into view, swirling and twirling into one giant mass in the distance. The fastest way to get down right now was to just drop. So drop he did, falling two storeys down, landing without a fuss. As he walked up to the light, the front door to the tower opened, revealing three obviously hung-over girls waddling towards him. It's a good thing he hated sparkly drinks.

"*ahem* Rough night?" Cravat sarcastically questioned as he slowed down to let them catch up to him. His comment was met with a kick to the shins then a shoulder to the ribs from both Panty and Stocking respectively, but he laughed through the coughing and groaning. Cravat noticed Habit looking blankly at the ground. She did that a lot already, but right now it looked as though she really had nothing on her mind. Cravat gave her a little wave in front of the eyes. No response.

"Habit? You okay?"

"Head… hurts…" she managed to let out. There's the Habit he knew.

"Don't drink so much next time then. Try taking more than two shots and you'll keel over."

"Waaaah, don't shout at meee~" Habit winced as she covered her ears and pouted at him. Cravat ruffled her red hair, then pinched her cheeks, to which she squirmed out of, annoyed. Cravat let out a laugh.

"I'm not shouting. You just have one hell of a headache."

They fell into a line in front of the Ghost that was forming. Given it was made up of fireworks, a soul of one who'd died due to misfire maybe? Or something? Probably. Who questioned the logic of how these Ghosts were made anyway? Not them, certainly. They were there to kill them, exterminate them, and gather the Heavens that appear after. It was interesting how Heavens would appear after you kill a Ghost. It was like finding the logic behind why enemies in random encounters of an insurmountable amount of RPGs carried GP or Gil or Gald or whatever. It just was. The Ghost soon took form, a giant, rocket-like firecracker with four afterburners. It was the usual black with blood-red highlights in various places where light bounced off. It had a menacing face with narrowed slits for eyes. Its mouth was curled in a sadistic smile as it watched them from above, waiting to see what we would do next.

"You know from here it looks kinda like a penis," Panty said out loud as she fell face first into the ground laughing like a maniac. Cravat carefully raised his hand in front of his face. With one swift movement he smacked it with his palm. Classic time to do one of those.

"Honestly, if someone did an X-Ray of your head it would be filled with the word 'Sex'," he sarcastically stated as he got ready for the assault. The girls however didn't look like they would be able to handle a fight. They were wobbly, had blank stares on their faces, and looked like they were about to throw up. Taking advantage of their probable gullibility right now, he turned to the girls and herded them towards the door leading back to the house. "You know what? You guys are dreaming right now."

"Huh, really…?" Habit asked as she rubbed her eyes while being pushed. "I could've sworn I saw a Ghost just now…"

"No no, you're all… happily in bed. Habit, you're sleeping, Panty, you're having…" Try as he might, he will never be able to bleach imagining four people in bed at once, "… a foursome, and Stocking, you're…" Cravat couldn't seem to continue.

'Woah woah woah, what was that?' he thought to himself. Why'd he trail off? He didn't know either. What the hell is this, character development? "… with someone. Now go on, go back to happy land."

"You gotta be shittin with us Otakun~" Stocking asked groggily as they were forced through the door. She still had that stupid grin on her face. Must've been a pretty good night for her at least.

"I am not to be 'shitting' with you. Now get." Cravat shut the door closed not a moment too soon. The ghost had fired a volley of rockets from compartments in its body, sending a barrage right at him. "Ho sheet."

He darted forward, ducking below the rockets that were about to nick him and just charged for the main Ghost. Feeling pretty smug about dodging the Ghost's first attack, he readied his whips, which materialized in a split second. But something was off. He didn't hear an explosion, or that crackle when a firework goes off. As he was speeding towards the Ghost he just took a quick peek behind him. In a moment, he launched off the ground into a back-flip. 'That's just wonderful, target-tracking firecrackers of doom.' He sarcastically mused to himself. Finalizing his suspicions, the rockets sent at him took a beeline, staying on target. As he flipped himself in the air, he managed to grab hold of one of the rockets, and he pulled it towards him. He landed on it like it was a surfboard and started sky-surfing with it, shouting with vigor as he found a steady position. Now by normal standards this would be impossible. But hey, his job wouldn't really be considered pretty normal anyway.

"Huh, reminds me of Demons Can Cry," Cravat shifted his weight to turn a little to face the Ghost. "I'm coming for you, bitch!" he barked, his arms spread wide. He never took his coat off from the night before so it was flailing in the air, as he would call it, 'epically', and his Ghost Kiras were wound up and ready to rip his target a new one. His prey seemed to be intimidated by him, judging from the way it cringed as he got closer. Firing all four of its after burners while shooting another barrage of rockets at Cravat, it made its escape towards the city. "Oooh, Hopscotch. I love this game."

In all honesty, this was getting pretty fun, Ghost hunting above the city, the New Year just rolled in, and playing Hopscotch on deadly, target-seeking, explody sticks. What more could a guy ask for? He wasn't getting any closer to Mr. Phallic Rocket though. As he hopped along it got further and further away, and Cravat realized he would have to think of something before he lost his first Ghost of the year. Seeing as more and more rockets were coming his way, one of those little light-bulbs appeared over his head. No wait, it was just a rocket nearly missing his eye-socket. Nevertheless, he had something in mind.

He hopped onto one rocket and stayed there, waiting for all the others to hone in on him. At the last second, he jumped skyward, releasing his Ghost Kiras and swung them in two wide arcs to his sides, catching all the rockets that were supposed to collide with him. Cravat continued the motion and swung his arms down this time, clumping all the rockets he caught together into one big cluster. Pulling on his whips to let them wrap around the entire thing and locking them in place, he had himself one giant clump of killer rockets now manipulated by tugging his whips. Only in Daten City. 'This could be a ride at a carnival or something,' Cravat thought to himself. "Well, minus the imminent explosion."

How many rockets did he have? No idea, but the cluster was as large as a car, no joke. He was still lagging behind slightly, so he decided to 'fan the flames', if you will. He flicked his arms down, and the entire thing followed. As he nose-dove into a side-walk, he jerked his whips up, letting the ends of the rockets skid across the ground. The people on the streets were shouting, screaming, and flailing their arms as they jumped out of his path. After a few seconds of skidding, the ends flared up, sending him shooting upwards at his target. Cravat knew the rockets could explode at any second now, so he loosened the grip of his whips that held the entire thing together. Narrowing his eyes, he waited for the moment before impact. At the exact second his makeshift doom weapon collided with its mark, he jumped off towards a building nearby, using his whips to grab onto an emergency stairwell and swung himself up to the roof. The Ghost was thrown off course right onto the roof he landed on, while the rockets he let loose exploded in a myriad of colors in the air. He sat up and pondered what had just happened. He actually did that.

"Well damn. I just did that." Cravat reflected as he brushed himself off. It wasn't like he wasn't used to crazy-ass chases, given he always had about five of those a week with Panty and Stocking, but hell, it felt good. Adrenaline was still pumping through him as a maniacal smirk spread across his features. He readied his Ghost Kiras as he approached his downed enemy. The Ghost suddenly shifted, and plucked itself from the hole it made when it crashed, and tossed itself itself upright. Segments of it suddenly started to split open and shifted in position. The four afterburners shifted, two near the upper segment, while the other two stayed put at the bottom. As they locked in place, arms and legs formed while the eyes shifted itself to the front, as well as its mouth, bearing its fangs at Cravat. He stared slack-jawed at the sight. He tried to utter words to properly express what he was thinking right now, which was 'What in overly used clichéd exclamations just happened?' he thought to himself. 'Seriously, I thought they had a Transmorfer episode already.'

"Did you just-" he started, still unable to fully express himself.

"Yep," the Ghost quickly replied. It stretched and cracked its arms and legs while eyeing him. 'Cold, daunting, and vicious. Like most Ghosts,' Cravat thought to himself.

"I thought you were the soul of someone who died while playing with fireworks?"

"Yes. I died while playing with fireworks. While I was watching Transmorfers." It replied plainly. Cravat scratched the back of his head a little.

"And that translates into becoming a Firecracker Transmorfer Ghost?"

"So it seems. Now are you going to try and purify me, purge, whatever or what?"

"Ghost got sass. Alright then bud, you asked for it," Cravat stiffened himself, prepared for another volley of rockets. The Ghost planted its feet into the ground pointed its right arm at him, and in a flash a fist launched itself into Cravat's ribs with a sickening, distinct sound of fracturing. Cravat was flung backwards from the sheer impact as the fist rebounded back to its owner. Spitting blood that pooled slightly in his mouth, he addressed his opponent again. Cravat forced himself up, still feeling slightly feeling the aftereffects of being blown back like he was nothing.

"Well that was unexpected," Cravat clutched his right side as he could feel a bruise starting to form. The Ghost started to ready itself again for another rocket-fist, but Cravat already made his move. He dashed forward with such force that the air around him created a shockwave. Just as the Ghost fired, he abruptly stopped himself just in front of it and dashed right, the fist missing him completely. The Ghost aimed quickly and fired off its remaining left fist, but Cravat anticipated this and dropped, sliding under the Ghost's legs. He let loose his whips, swinging his arms forward, and the whips flew wildly, managing to latch onto the Ghost's feet.

Cravat flipped onto his front then launched himself off the ground with his forearms back into a standing position. The Ghost was thrown off-balance, and fell over with a loud bang, sending a few rockets misfiring into the stratosphere. Cravat heaved with the newfound adrenaline pumping through his veins like the greasy goodness of a Quadruple Clogger from Mendy's and flung the Ghost off the roof into the vacant lot in the distance. He could barely hear the loud crash as the Ghost collided with the pavement, making more rockets misfire from all over its body. Cravat jumped off the building aiming straight for the empty lot. He suddenly heard crackling noises from behind.

"Ah hell no-" one of the fists that missed collided with his back. Cravat could do nothing but endure the blow as it propelled him through the air. Homing rocket fists. Should've expected that. He was knocked away from the first fist after it slowed down, only to be smashed from above by the other one that had missed. It corkscrewed itself into his abdomen and slammed him into the concrete lot below, knocking the wind right out of him.

Cravat coughed up blood, and its metallic taste lingered in his mouth. He slowly got up brushing himself off once again and checking to see if a piece of concrete lodged itself anywhere on his body. Seems to be fine, he thought.

"Well this has been wonderful," the Ghost suddenly called out, cracking his fists in delight as he strode closer to Cravat. "By the way, where are those bitch-angels? I haven't seen them. Off getting banged are they?" the Ghost asked, distinctly mocking them. "I myself shot them with fireworks of my own while I was still alive, if you know what I mean."

"DUDE. I DID NOT NEED THAT MENTAL IMAGE," Cravat quickly shouted, his face distorted into an expression of 'WHAT THE HELL MAN.'

"Alas, my hobby of collecting actual fireworks backfired on me when the lighter I was using for a smoke dropped into my box full of explosive fun."

"Is that still a sexual innuendo or did that really happen?"

"No innuendo intended. I realize I seem to have a tendency to do that."

"No shit," Cravat said, still with that same look on his face.

"… Anyway, now here I am. Honestly I got bored of them, one's too easy to please and the other is into some freaky shit. Plus the blue-haired one called me a gym-rat once. Bitch."

"Ooooh, you're the quick-shot they were talking about?" he asked, remembering the sisters recalling an argument they had. Apparently they had a little cat-fight over whom and how many guys they had and the quality of their skills. Not something decent people talk about over breakfast, but hey, they're not exactly saints here. Then they got to someone who Stocking called a gym-rat, to which Panty agreed he really wasn't that good, and was quite the quick-shot. Why'd he remember all this? It isn't exactly easy to bleach their interpretations of each session they had with obviously only some of the men they've been with. He never even knew the female body could bend that way.

"F-fuck, they said that?" the Ghost asked, looking very distraught.

"Yeah, sorry bud. Now why don't you go rest in peace?" Cravat suggested. Was it just him or was this conversation with a Ghost much more civil than most conversations he'd had with Panty or Stocking?

"I guess. But come on, I can't go down like that submissive guy the blue one liked so much can I? You'll have to beat me for it," it stated, readying itself again for the final round.

"Alright then. Happy New Year by the way."

"Happy New Year to you too," As the Ghost let go of those words, a glint suddenly appeared in the distance. What was it…? It was getting closer and closer. Was he imagining things or was that Kneesocks riding… a… oh dear god, was that a Mecha Unicorn?

"Okay what the hell?" he muttered under his breath as the figures in the distance got closer and closer. The Ghost was quickly impaled by the Unicorn's horn, and then destroyed by a multi-colored rainbow beam. The art suddenly shifted into 3D models, wherein the Ghost exploded, screaming its last words before its demise. After the art shifted back to the normal 2D, Kneesocks, clad only in an armored bikini, got down from the Mecha Unicorn and strode towards Cravat extremely provocatively, her hips swinging side to side.

"Kneesocks…?" he asked within earshot as she came face to face with him. She suddenly grabbed him by the collar and started to press her lips against his. It eventually turned into a complete make-out session, and after a good few seconds she shoved him down on the cold concrete floor. She started to take off her top, teasingly putting her arms around her chest to block his view. She placed herself on top of him, pressing her chest against his. 'DEAR GOD WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?' he thought to himself.

"I must be dreaming…" Cravat said out loud. As Kneesocks started to glide her hand down to his pants, she looked up at him and replied.

"Why yes, yes you are."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Cravat's eyes shot open. What the hell was that? How long had he been out? Not for very long probably, since he distinctly heard a rocket gliding away. He got up and saw the Ghost just as it was in his dream: retrieving its fist and readying itself once again. He coughed up blood, and its metallic taste lingered in his mouth. He slowly got up brushing himself off and checking to see if a piece of concrete lodged itself anywhere on his body. Seems to be fine, he thought. Woah, déjà vu.

"You wouldn't have happened to be a gym-rat who happened to bang Panty and Stocking in the past would you…?" he asked out of the sheer curiosity of what he'd just dreamed of.

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't know anyone named Pantsy and Stalker or whatever. Come on already, I'm getting bored here." The Ghost beckoned, still reeling for a continuation. Cravat shook the thought out of his head and focused on the here and now.

'Bah, whatever. Must've been the steak," Cravat darted forward, having newfound reason to end this fight: He wanted to go home and sleep the entire thing off, because as things were he had this really awkward feeling lingering in him. Very very awkward. As the two fists fired at him, it seemed like he knew their movements already. As if they were moving in slow-motion, he reacted by bending his upper body backwards, the sharp tail-fins barely missing his face. He swung his arms forward, the whips following his movements, and they latched onto the Ghost's body and wrapped all the way around until its legs. Cravat proceeded to jump over the Ghost and tightened the grip his whips had on it, immobilizing its entire body instantly.

"Other than your rockets and your rocket fists you've pretty much got nothing going for you do you?" Cravat remarked when he landed behind the Ghost. "Other than that, once you fire your fists, you can't do anything else until they return because you use your hands in order to open the compartments to your rocketry that you keep sealed shut to avoid misfire. With a strong enough impact however it can still be knocked open."

The Ghost was pretty impressed. It didn't think the guy who looked like nothing but an idiotic shut-in to the world would be able to analyze it so well. "You don't look smart but you actually pretty are. Kudos," it commented. It let out a loud whimper of pain when Cravat shoved his foot against its back, forcing it forward to tighten the grip of his whips even more.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now watch for the birdie~" Cravat steadied his position. Just as he thought the fists were coming back at them, still not being able to make contact with their target. The fists pounded into its host's body with crushing force, sending both of them flying backwards. Cravat struggled to keep the fists in contact with the Ghost, when he had an, wait for it, epic idea. He jumped off the ground, bringing the Ghost with him. He flipped it horizontally in mid-air and rode it like a skateboard, and just as he thought, the fists followed his movements, now crushing the Ghost once more and propelling them upwards into the sky. As they soared higher and higher, he pried open a rocket compartment and got one. He reached as far as he could over one side of the Ghost and lit the fuse, then shoved the firecracker back into the compartment. The Ghost knew what the internal combustion would result into, which was his eventual explosion.

"Rest in peace."

Cravat pulled strongly on his whips, which tightened and diced through the Ghost, one long vertical afterimage as well as one long horizontal one, forming a cross in the sky. At the exact moment the Ghost was destroyed, the fireworks within it exploded, a first array of that year's lightshow exploding in the sky. A giant cross and a background of fireworks, a Testament to a productive year to come. It shouted one final statement before it disintegrated entirely.

"START THINGS OFF WITH A BANG!"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Cravat lied down on the couch, entirely exhausted. He took his coat off and hung it on a rack in the living room where last night's escapade had yet to be cleaned. As he sat there waiting once again for the sand-woman to lull him to slumber, out of the corner of his eye he spied movement. Stocking was up. Was she waiting for him?

"Hey," she said, obviously sleepy.

"What are you doing up so late?" he asked, getting up from the couch. He patted her head.

"You weren't there by the bed. What happened last night…?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. Cravat guided her back to her room while explaining what had occurred, along with the drunkenness and the singing and the recording and the whatnot. "Wow. That bad?"

"Eh, you've had better days," he said humorously. As he opened the door to her room, he noticed Stocking's partner was nowhere to be found. "What happened to the guy you were with?"

Stocking thought hard, massaging her head, trying to recall. "If I remember correctly, before he parking his Corvette into my garage…"

'And now I will never be able to look at a Chevvy Coupe the same way again,' Cravat thought to himself while laughing in his head.

"… Panty came bursting into the room and took him away. I was too stoned to care to remember if he came back after that."

Cravat tucked Stocking into her bed and said his goodnights-slash-good mornings to her. He then jumped into his own bed and relished the feeling. 'Good to be back,' he thought.

"By the way Otakun," Stocking said as she peeked at him from under her sheets. "Would you like to start your year with a bang if you know what I mean?" she said extremely suggestively but at the same time in a joking manner. How the hell did she manage to do that?

"If I hear that pun another time I think I'd rather stay chaste for the next few months, thank you very much," he replied in a similar fashion. Stocking merely laughed before turning the other way.

He then remembered that freaky-ass dream he had when he fought that Ghost. He merely laughed, genuinely at first, then with a nervous undertone after.

Speaking to Kneesocks is going to be veeeeery awkward the next time he sees her.

Author's Notes: HOLY CRAAAAP. Sorry for the late updates recently. School's been driving me like a pack mule lately _. Anyway, thanks for the comments and stuff. I'll update when I get to update, but believe me, I will eventually update, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES XD Bye for now then guys, I'll edit this properly if there are any mistakes when I get back from school. It's 12:30AM here XD. Bye now~