Chapter 1a
anonymous
November 30 2009, 22:00:00 UTC
“Man has thrived in space since the disaster, but there is debate about how much was lost in Earth’s sudden decline.”
Alfred’s history class is probably his least favorite. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t think history is interesting -- he rather enjoys the subject - it just so happens that this particular class and this particular teacher are not to his liking. Most days - like today - the instructor speaks a few meaningless words and promptly turns on a very dull video. No deep meaning discussions on intergalactic relations. Neither are there any lessons about that abandoned rock that remains their closest neighbor. Not only does this fly in the face of all Alfred thinks history should be; he is also sure that most of these videos in question have been around longer than the dome and by default are horribly out-of-date.
“We’ve gotten a hold of space travel and self-preservation, but a lot of our advanced technology has been lost.”
It is during these rather droll videos that Alfred most enjoys pulling out his pictures of England. He loves to look at her shapely form - sigh -- and run his fingers up and down the picture as if he is feeling her smooth porcelain face. But today it seems that Matthew has somehow gotten a hold of his possessions. The pictures are gone. It is quite a damn shame really, he’s paid a pretty penny to get those beautiful photos touched up from their original condition and rendered on high quality photo paper. He hopes that Matthew has done nothing rash like throwing them away - which sadly is a very possible outcome. Matthew holds no love for Alfred’s wife-to-be.
“There have been several expeditions to Earth in an attempt to explain the possible causes of Earth’s rapid deterioration and to retrieve much of what has been lost, but for some reason all missions have remained unsuccessful.”
Since he is unable to fixate upon his prize, this day Alfred is allowing his eyes to wander towards the window instead. It is a nice warm day, just like every other day before it; just like the forecast has scheduled. He remembers hearing that on the Earth they’d only been able to guess the weather, not schedule it. Alfred thinks the idea is strange. All his life the weather has been dictated. There is never any deviation. The weather is boring. Just like everything else.
“This is not to say that humanity has not found its place in the universe. We’ve colonized many planets in our solar system, and there are various independent stations that are self sufficient.”
There is an interesting rumor that circulates England. There are accounts that she is capable of bringing down the rain in rough, violent torrents; that the sun’s rays are compromised because of the dark clouds that follow in her wake. It is a silly notion; that one woman in a miniskirt can cause the dome to suddenly spout rain. And it’s not even normal rain; not the passive showers that the farming units often receive, but real, brutal sheets of water. It is a ludicrous idea, but perhaps that’s why Alfred is so intrigued. It isn’t physically impossible, just highly unlikely, and that is what draws Alfred’s attention so. The unknown has always been a source of excitement for Alfred - probably because there is so little of it in this modern world where everything is dictated. Day in and day out it is always the same. He goes to class, he goes home, he goes to sleep; rinse and repeat. The weather is always planned, his day is always planned, even his future - the college degree, the engineering slot he’ll take when his father retires - is also, painfully planned; all of it is--except for England, of course.
“But one must wonder about our true home. Like a child leaving, we must remember what the Earth has taught us.”
England is Alfred’s wild card. A beautiful femme fatale that is either going to ruin him or make him the happiest person this side of the sun. And that is the excitement in it all! Alfred honestly has no clue how she is going to affect his life, but she is going to, for better or worse. Alfred is sure of this, needs it to be so.
“And maybe one day humans can return to Earth and pick up the pieces that our ancestors have left behind.”
Chapter 1b
anonymous
November 30 2009, 22:06:31 UTC
The monitor flickers until it fades and the lights come to their full splendor. Alfred continues his daydreaming as the teacher steps forward and speaks a few last words before dismissing the class. Alfred prolongs his departure, choosing to wait till everyone had filed out of the class room. Once alone - the teacher has left as well - Alfred lets out a sigh. School is boring, home is boring.
He forces himself from the chair and reaches down to retrieve his bag. It is in this instant, as he bends down, out of the corner of his eye Alfred spots something through the windows pane. He isn’t sure what that something is, but it is grey and small and moving. Excitement takes him and refuses to let go. Alfred grabs his things in a rush, and run from the room. He passes the lockers and shoves his way through students hurrying from one place to another. He briefly remembers hearing Matthew calling after him, but Alfred isn’t paying attention.
He runs into the sunshine of the outdoors. He looks around expectantly; hoping that whatever his eye had caught will give its location away once more. It might be a rabbit, or something similar; an animal of some sort that has escaped the boundaries of its protected zone. This does not happen often, but Alfred has found a few previously and gone to great lengths in catching and returning them to their homes. He hopes to do something similar today; it will help with the monotony.
Making sure that he is quiet, Alfred drops his bag by the school and edges forward. He waits patiently for a sound, some movement, anything to tell him where the little thing is hiding. A soft rustling to his right alerts him to a large bush. With delicate care Alfred creeps over to the plant. He tenses his arms in anticipation, readying himself to fling them into the brush, but he never gets the chance. Just as he is ready to plunge, a large head pops out of the foliage.
It isn’t like anything Alfred has ever seen before. Definitely not an animal he knows to exist. Its head is rounded - like any other animal - and its grey coloring is also a normal attribute, but it is hairless with huge red eyes that gaze right up at him. For a while Alfred and whatever it is seem to stare at one another, both in utter shock that they are being spotted. It doesn’t take long for Alfred’s instincts to take the better of him. His hands move at rapid speed, and quickly wrap around the rather large head and hold.
The animal struggles in the tight grip, and little grey fingers shoot up to push at Alfred’s hands.
“Let go of me, yank!”
At the squeaky voice that emerges, Alfred quickly lets go of the thing and gazes in sheer disbelief. The little thing plops onto the ground and starts feeling at its head, massaging and rubbing it.
“D-d-did you just t-t-talk?”
“No, it was the bush. You’ve got a hell of a grip.” The thing’s voice isn’t something pleasant, it’s more of a screeching sound and is much harsher than Alfred thinks it should be - not that he’s had any sort of experience with strange speaking creatures. The thing continues to cradle its head, and if Alfred wasn’t in total shock before, he is now. Those large red eyes are glaring at him with quite a bit of disdain, but Alfred is too wrapped up in his confusion to register that fact.
“B-bushes don’t talk…” Alfred mumbles to himself more as an afterthought than anything else. He doesn’t even realize what a stupid thing it is to say, he only comes to that conclusion when the thing calls him on it.
“Of course they don’t, bonehead. I was being facetious, if you know what that means.”
“I know what that means,” Alfred defensively counters, but the retort lacks any sort of bite. Alfred is still far too flustered to continue thinking very rationally.
The thing stops cradling its head and rises to its full height. Alfred steps back just a bit, amazed that it comes all the way up to his waist. “Anyways; I’m Tony. You’re a sailor scout and I’ll be needing you to save the world.”
“Hi Ton- wait what?” The first response is conditioned, but he cuts himself off and interjects the question as things start to sink into the first layer of his skin. Alfred’s face furrows in confusion. Tony only cocks his head and folds his arms in front of his rather small chest.
Chapter 1c
anonymous
November 30 2009, 22:09:45 UTC
“You heard me, yank. You’ll need to save the world.”
“Ummm… does it need saving?”
Tony huffs and glares at Alfred some more before speaking again.
“Why the hell would I tell you to go save the world if it didn’t need saving?”
Alfred takes a step back and straightens himself before bringing his arms out in front and waving them.
“I don’t even know what you are, or how you can talk; you don’t even have a mouth!”
Tony rolls his eyes - or what Alfred thinks is a roll of the eyes - before looking at Alfred once more.
“I’m an alien. Your primitive human language was easy to learn, and I don’t need a mouth. Now are you going to actually listen to me or not?”
“You’re an alien? What? Humans have been in space for almost a hundred years, how could we have not discovered you already?”
“Cause humanity’s primitive. That’s the only reason I’ve got for you.”
“Ok, so you’re an alien.” Alfred almost chuckles at that. “Alright, say that I do believe you - which I don’t - what is this saving the world thing?”
“The world is being overrun by energy-sucking aliens. Can we stop with the hundred questions? You really don’t have time for this.”
“Aliens again!?”
“What’s wrong with aliens? Most of us are highly advanced!”
Alfred pauses and takes in the information as he studies the ground. He turns back to Tony before continuing.
“So why would aliens want to attack us?”
“I explained that already! These kind of aliens feed off of human energy!”
“Ok, so let me get this straight.” He points at Tony, “You’re an alien.” Tony nods and Alfred moves his hand to point at himself, “And I’m a hero that’s going to save the world from human-sucking aliens.”
Tony nods. “Dumbed down, yes, that’s what’s going on.”
Alfred takes another moment to digest all of the information before a wide smile splits his face in two.
“Cool! Let’s kick some alien ass!”
Tony rolls his eyes, his whole head moving around in the process before his gaze settles on Alfred again.
“This is taking too long. Now that you’ve got the basics take this and say ‘America Star Power Make-Up’.”
The alien produces a golden star and hands it to Alfred, who in turn takes it expectantly. He brings the item up to his face for inspection.
It looks like a medal of some sort, the like of which Alfred has only ever seen in history books or museums. It is of a beautiful golden color that shines and glistens in the sun’s embrace. The gold star is framed by a circular wreath, and a bar above the star connects the medal to a blue ribbon with white stars scattered across its surface. Engraved on the bar is the word ‘Valor’ and from there a golden eagle sits perched, with its wings spread and beak open.
It is a stunning piece to behold - something Alfred expects to find fading and rotting in a museum, not being handed to him by an alien - but there it sits, as bright and vibrant as the sun in his hand. He shifts the item and watches as the light bounces off of it, he smiles at the item, the warm feeling it gives him, and turns back to Tony.
“Is this really for me? I’ve only seen these in museums!”
“Stop ogling and use it! We’re running out of ti-“
A loud crash cuts off whatever Tony was about to say. Both of them turn towards the noise. It doesn’t take long for Alfred to switch from shock to movement. Sure that he will be of some use to whatever is taking place, Alfred runs in the direction of the disturbance. He doesn’t notice, but Tony wobbles after him.
The sight that greets him is something Alfred had only thought possible in a bad TV show. There stands a woman, only, it isn’t exactly a woman. Her face is contorted into something hideous, more elongated and rougher than it has any right to be. Her body is also lengthened, but the real shocker is her hands. They jut out farther than her body should allow and look more like roots than hands. Each individual piece of the woman’s hand - and there are tons of them, more than Alfred is willing to count - moves swiftly on its own, weaving and chasing as they strive to grasp at something green darting away from them.
Chapter 1d
anonymous
November 30 2009, 22:11:22 UTC
It is then that Alfred realizes that green thing that is so expertly escaping the monster’s clutches is England. The figure dodging the monster’s authority is undoubtedly England in all her glory; green miniskirt fluttering in the breeze, blond hair struggling to keep up with her swift movements, and the cursing that sounds like water flowing from her pursed lips, it’s all a part of an essential whole.
Alfred is stunned into silence. He watches, mesmerized at her every movement. It is then that the monster takes notice of him. Its eyes widened and the roots that were chasing after England’s lithe form not two seconds prior, are instantly changing directions, going straight towards him. In the face of such danger Alfred’s system panics and starts to shut down; the imminent attack is getting closer and closer and his body refused to move. He just stares in complete horror as danger gets closer and closer. But the offending articles never touch him, the roots stop right before they reach him, and he hears a large guttural grunt coming from the direction of the monster. And there is England, laying her fists savagely into the thing again and again.
It looks hopeful, like she is giving it a hell of beating, until the roots zero in on her. The blond seemed to notice this, and quickly springs away, but it isn’t fast enough. Roots wrap around her ankle and spin her around, as if she is nothing more than a ragdoll. England’s face scrunches in concentration as she struggles to escape, but it is to no avail. She isn’t making a sound, not cursing or screaming - and Alfred has to love her for that, cause he’d be bawling like a baby if it was him in a similar situation. The creature lets out a sickening laugh, jerks her around some more, and then tosses the young girl aside.
England sails through the air till she collides roughly with a street light with enough force to bring it crashing down around her. Time seemed to slow as she falls and crumples to the ground, coughing and sputtering. The blond tries to crawl back up but she is beaten to it by the roots, which violently continue to shove her from one place to another. She continues to try, a testament to something Alfred can’t quite place, but the roots are relentless and never let her up.
Alfred then realizes; this thing is going to kill her. His England is going to be murdered by some mutant plant thing, and he is sitting here watching it. Fire courses through his veins and Alfred moves to help her, but a small hand firmly grips his wrist. Tony looks up at him with something in his eye Alfred can’t distinguish, and shakes his head no.
“If you want to help her, follow me.” the alien says before pulling Alfred away from the wreckage. There is still sickening laughter flowing from the scene and the sound is only fuel to Alfred’s growing rage.
“But she needs help now!” Alfred growls. He tries to pull away, but Tony is much stronger then he looks and somehow keeps Alfred in his grip as he pulls them even farther away. “She’s going to die! I need to help her!” Alfred doesn’t care that his tone sounds desperate now, that it is rough but pleading at the same time.
“You can’t help her as you are! You’d only get yourself killed.”
“You said I was the hero, so let me save her!” Alfred rips his wrist away from the alien and turns to go.
“Say it!” The alien speaks with such finality that Alfred stops in his tracks turns to look at him in confusion.
“What?”
“‘America Star Power Make-Up’ If you want to help her, say it!” Alfred looks at Tony in confusion before he allows the words to slip softly from his lips.
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 1 2009, 03:01:14 UTC
I can't wait to actually show her using them~!!! Hetlia has provided me with very minor support characters such as Tony, it would be a waste not to use him!! 8D
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 1 2009, 03:03:52 UTC
Hello again hun~!! Thanks for all your hard work on this chapter!! It really feels much smoother to me.
Action scenes are so fun/annoying. Its a very love hate relationship.
Glad you approve of my use of him!! I only remember him talking in one strip and he was cussing up a storm, I thought it would be great fun to use that!!
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 1 2009, 05:03:44 UTC
Omg yes Tony! This meme needs more Tony! I'm so loving this fill right now. I have to admit I was a lil bit creeped out by Alfred's obsession, but it's all good! Ok so three more sailor scouts right? so... Russia, China, and France?
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 2 2009, 06:24:31 UTC
We are in agreement! This meme definitely needs more Tony!! I hadn't initially planned on Alfred being that creepy, but that's just how it happened I guess. I'm glad it didn't scare you away though!!
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 6 2009, 21:24:48 UTC
Oh, Anon, why so brilliant?
This has to be, hands down, the best Sailor Moon fusion ever. And believe me when I say this, for this anon has read far more Sailor Moon x-overs than she's proud to admit.
I wish I could go on and on for hours over the cleverness of this story (the post-apocalyptic setting, the genderbending, Al-the-creep, Tony) but words fail me right now, so I'll just be here F5ing 'till my finger is numb.
Keep on rocking, Anon! *lame thumbs-up goes here*
reCaptcha says: Presidential engage. Mmm... will the government get involved in this, captcha?
Re: Chapter 1d
anonymous
December 8 2009, 06:54:12 UTC
Ha ha, I don't know about brilliant, but thank you!!
I'm so happy that you're enjoying this so far! Its a stretch, even for me who is a rabid cross-over fan, but I wanted to give it a shot any way. And, I mean, Sailor Moon was originally sort of a post apocalyptic setting if you looked at it a certain way, but I don't think its common to associate it that way since its set in our time period. For that reason I thought it would give the fic a very fresh feel to it, something I think a lot of cross-overs lack these days. There's also the fact to consider that its a fusion request, not explicitly a crossover request, so that played in as well.
Now that I've said way to much my inner nerd is showing I have to tell you that genderbender is fun. That's really the only reason I have for that...Everything else is planned out, serious!! XD
“Man has thrived in space since the disaster, but there is debate about how much was lost in Earth’s sudden decline.”
Alfred’s history class is probably his least favorite. This isn’t to say that he doesn’t think history is interesting -- he rather enjoys the subject - it just so happens that this particular class and this particular teacher are not to his liking. Most days - like today - the instructor speaks a few meaningless words and promptly turns on a very dull video. No deep meaning discussions on intergalactic relations. Neither are there any lessons about that abandoned rock that remains their closest neighbor. Not only does this fly in the face of all Alfred thinks history should be; he is also sure that most of these videos in question have been around longer than the dome and by default are horribly out-of-date.
“We’ve gotten a hold of space travel and self-preservation, but a lot of our advanced technology has been lost.”
It is during these rather droll videos that Alfred most enjoys pulling out his pictures of England. He loves to look at her shapely form - sigh -- and run his fingers up and down the picture as if he is feeling her smooth porcelain face. But today it seems that Matthew has somehow gotten a hold of his possessions. The pictures are gone. It is quite a damn shame really, he’s paid a pretty penny to get those beautiful photos touched up from their original condition and rendered on high quality photo paper. He hopes that Matthew has done nothing rash like throwing them away - which sadly is a very possible outcome. Matthew holds no love for Alfred’s wife-to-be.
“There have been several expeditions to Earth in an attempt to explain the possible causes of Earth’s rapid deterioration and to retrieve much of what has been lost, but for some reason all missions have remained unsuccessful.”
Since he is unable to fixate upon his prize, this day Alfred is allowing his eyes to wander towards the window instead. It is a nice warm day, just like every other day before it; just like the forecast has scheduled. He remembers hearing that on the Earth they’d only been able to guess the weather, not schedule it. Alfred thinks the idea is strange. All his life the weather has been dictated. There is never any deviation. The weather is boring. Just like everything else.
“This is not to say that humanity has not found its place in the universe. We’ve colonized many planets in our solar system, and there are various independent stations that are self sufficient.”
There is an interesting rumor that circulates England. There are accounts that she is capable of bringing down the rain in rough, violent torrents; that the sun’s rays are compromised because of the dark clouds that follow in her wake. It is a silly notion; that one woman in a miniskirt can cause the dome to suddenly spout rain. And it’s not even normal rain; not the passive showers that the farming units often receive, but real, brutal sheets of water. It is a ludicrous idea, but perhaps that’s why Alfred is so intrigued. It isn’t physically impossible, just highly unlikely, and that is what draws Alfred’s attention so. The unknown has always been a source of excitement for Alfred - probably because there is so little of it in this modern world where everything is dictated. Day in and day out it is always the same. He goes to class, he goes home, he goes to sleep; rinse and repeat. The weather is always planned, his day is always planned, even his future - the college degree, the engineering slot he’ll take when his father retires - is also, painfully planned; all of it is--except for England, of course.
“But one must wonder about our true home. Like a child leaving, we must remember what the Earth has taught us.”
England is Alfred’s wild card. A beautiful femme fatale that is either going to ruin him or make him the happiest person this side of the sun. And that is the excitement in it all! Alfred honestly has no clue how she is going to affect his life, but she is going to, for better or worse. Alfred is sure of this, needs it to be so.
“And maybe one day humans can return to Earth and pick up the pieces that our ancestors have left behind.”
Reply
The monitor flickers until it fades and the lights come to their full splendor. Alfred continues his daydreaming as the teacher steps forward and speaks a few last words before dismissing the class. Alfred prolongs his departure, choosing to wait till everyone had filed out of the class room. Once alone - the teacher has left as well - Alfred lets out a sigh. School is boring, home is boring.
He forces himself from the chair and reaches down to retrieve his bag. It is in this instant, as he bends down, out of the corner of his eye Alfred spots something through the windows pane. He isn’t sure what that something is, but it is grey and small and moving. Excitement takes him and refuses to let go. Alfred grabs his things in a rush, and run from the room. He passes the lockers and shoves his way through students hurrying from one place to another. He briefly remembers hearing Matthew calling after him, but Alfred isn’t paying attention.
He runs into the sunshine of the outdoors. He looks around expectantly; hoping that whatever his eye had caught will give its location away once more. It might be a rabbit, or something similar; an animal of some sort that has escaped the boundaries of its protected zone. This does not happen often, but Alfred has found a few previously and gone to great lengths in catching and returning them to their homes. He hopes to do something similar today; it will help with the monotony.
Making sure that he is quiet, Alfred drops his bag by the school and edges forward. He waits patiently for a sound, some movement, anything to tell him where the little thing is hiding. A soft rustling to his right alerts him to a large bush. With delicate care Alfred creeps over to the plant. He tenses his arms in anticipation, readying himself to fling them into the brush, but he never gets the chance. Just as he is ready to plunge, a large head pops out of the foliage.
It isn’t like anything Alfred has ever seen before. Definitely not an animal he knows to exist. Its head is rounded - like any other animal - and its grey coloring is also a normal attribute, but it is hairless with huge red eyes that gaze right up at him. For a while Alfred and whatever it is seem to stare at one another, both in utter shock that they are being spotted. It doesn’t take long for Alfred’s instincts to take the better of him. His hands move at rapid speed, and quickly wrap around the rather large head and hold.
The animal struggles in the tight grip, and little grey fingers shoot up to push at Alfred’s hands.
“Let go of me, yank!”
At the squeaky voice that emerges, Alfred quickly lets go of the thing and gazes in sheer disbelief. The little thing plops onto the ground and starts feeling at its head, massaging and rubbing it.
“D-d-did you just t-t-talk?”
“No, it was the bush. You’ve got a hell of a grip.” The thing’s voice isn’t something pleasant, it’s more of a screeching sound and is much harsher than Alfred thinks it should be - not that he’s had any sort of experience with strange speaking creatures. The thing continues to cradle its head, and if Alfred wasn’t in total shock before, he is now. Those large red eyes are glaring at him with quite a bit of disdain, but Alfred is too wrapped up in his confusion to register that fact.
“B-bushes don’t talk…” Alfred mumbles to himself more as an afterthought than anything else. He doesn’t even realize what a stupid thing it is to say, he only comes to that conclusion when the thing calls him on it.
“Of course they don’t, bonehead. I was being facetious, if you know what that means.”
“I know what that means,” Alfred defensively counters, but the retort lacks any sort of bite. Alfred is still far too flustered to continue thinking very rationally.
The thing stops cradling its head and rises to its full height. Alfred steps back just a bit, amazed that it comes all the way up to his waist. “Anyways; I’m Tony. You’re a sailor scout and I’ll be needing you to save the world.”
“Hi Ton- wait what?” The first response is conditioned, but he cuts himself off and interjects the question as things start to sink into the first layer of his skin. Alfred’s face furrows in confusion. Tony only cocks his head and folds his arms in front of his rather small chest.
Reply
“Ummm… does it need saving?”
Tony huffs and glares at Alfred some more before speaking again.
“Why the hell would I tell you to go save the world if it didn’t need saving?”
Alfred takes a step back and straightens himself before bringing his arms out in front and waving them.
“I don’t even know what you are, or how you can talk; you don’t even have a mouth!”
Tony rolls his eyes - or what Alfred thinks is a roll of the eyes - before looking at Alfred once more.
“I’m an alien. Your primitive human language was easy to learn, and I don’t need a mouth. Now are you going to actually listen to me or not?”
“You’re an alien? What? Humans have been in space for almost a hundred years, how could we have not discovered you already?”
“Cause humanity’s primitive. That’s the only reason I’ve got for you.”
“Ok, so you’re an alien.” Alfred almost chuckles at that. “Alright, say that I do believe you - which I don’t - what is this saving the world thing?”
“The world is being overrun by energy-sucking aliens. Can we stop with the hundred questions? You really don’t have time for this.”
“Aliens again!?”
“What’s wrong with aliens? Most of us are highly advanced!”
Alfred pauses and takes in the information as he studies the ground. He turns back to Tony before continuing.
“So why would aliens want to attack us?”
“I explained that already! These kind of aliens feed off of human energy!”
“Ok, so let me get this straight.” He points at Tony, “You’re an alien.” Tony nods and Alfred moves his hand to point at himself, “And I’m a hero that’s going to save the world from human-sucking aliens.”
Tony nods. “Dumbed down, yes, that’s what’s going on.”
Alfred takes another moment to digest all of the information before a wide smile splits his face in two.
“Cool! Let’s kick some alien ass!”
Tony rolls his eyes, his whole head moving around in the process before his gaze settles on Alfred again.
“This is taking too long. Now that you’ve got the basics take this and say ‘America Star Power Make-Up’.”
The alien produces a golden star and hands it to Alfred, who in turn takes it expectantly. He brings the item up to his face for inspection.
It looks like a medal of some sort, the like of which Alfred has only ever seen in history books or museums. It is of a beautiful golden color that shines and glistens in the sun’s embrace. The gold star is framed by a circular wreath, and a bar above the star connects the medal to a blue ribbon with white stars scattered across its surface. Engraved on the bar is the word ‘Valor’ and from there a golden eagle sits perched, with its wings spread and beak open.
It is a stunning piece to behold - something Alfred expects to find fading and rotting in a museum, not being handed to him by an alien - but there it sits, as bright and vibrant as the sun in his hand. He shifts the item and watches as the light bounces off of it, he smiles at the item, the warm feeling it gives him, and turns back to Tony.
“Is this really for me? I’ve only seen these in museums!”
“Stop ogling and use it! We’re running out of ti-“
A loud crash cuts off whatever Tony was about to say. Both of them turn towards the noise. It doesn’t take long for Alfred to switch from shock to movement. Sure that he will be of some use to whatever is taking place, Alfred runs in the direction of the disturbance. He doesn’t notice, but Tony wobbles after him.
The sight that greets him is something Alfred had only thought possible in a bad TV show. There stands a woman, only, it isn’t exactly a woman. Her face is contorted into something hideous, more elongated and rougher than it has any right to be. Her body is also lengthened, but the real shocker is her hands. They jut out farther than her body should allow and look more like roots than hands. Each individual piece of the woman’s hand - and there are tons of them, more than Alfred is willing to count - moves swiftly on its own, weaving and chasing as they strive to grasp at something green darting away from them.
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Alfred is stunned into silence. He watches, mesmerized at her every movement. It is then that the monster takes notice of him. Its eyes widened and the roots that were chasing after England’s lithe form not two seconds prior, are instantly changing directions, going straight towards him. In the face of such danger Alfred’s system panics and starts to shut down; the imminent attack is getting closer and closer and his body refused to move. He just stares in complete horror as danger gets closer and closer. But the offending articles never touch him, the roots stop right before they reach him, and he hears a large guttural grunt coming from the direction of the monster. And there is England, laying her fists savagely into the thing again and again.
It looks hopeful, like she is giving it a hell of beating, until the roots zero in on her. The blond seemed to notice this, and quickly springs away, but it isn’t fast enough. Roots wrap around her ankle and spin her around, as if she is nothing more than a ragdoll. England’s face scrunches in concentration as she struggles to escape, but it is to no avail. She isn’t making a sound, not cursing or screaming - and Alfred has to love her for that, cause he’d be bawling like a baby if it was him in a similar situation. The creature lets out a sickening laugh, jerks her around some more, and then tosses the young girl aside.
England sails through the air till she collides roughly with a street light with enough force to bring it crashing down around her. Time seemed to slow as she falls and crumples to the ground, coughing and sputtering. The blond tries to crawl back up but she is beaten to it by the roots, which violently continue to shove her from one place to another. She continues to try, a testament to something Alfred can’t quite place, but the roots are relentless and never let her up.
Alfred then realizes; this thing is going to kill her. His England is going to be murdered by some mutant plant thing, and he is sitting here watching it. Fire courses through his veins and Alfred moves to help her, but a small hand firmly grips his wrist. Tony looks up at him with something in his eye Alfred can’t distinguish, and shakes his head no.
“If you want to help her, follow me.” the alien says before pulling Alfred away from the wreckage. There is still sickening laughter flowing from the scene and the sound is only fuel to Alfred’s growing rage.
“But she needs help now!” Alfred growls. He tries to pull away, but Tony is much stronger then he looks and somehow keeps Alfred in his grip as he pulls them even farther away. “She’s going to die! I need to help her!” Alfred doesn’t care that his tone sounds desperate now, that it is rough but pleading at the same time.
“You can’t help her as you are! You’d only get yourself killed.”
“You said I was the hero, so let me save her!” Alfred rips his wrist away from the alien and turns to go.
“Say it!” The alien speaks with such finality that Alfred stops in his tracks turns to look at him in confusion.
“What?”
“‘America Star Power Make-Up’ If you want to help her, say it!”
Alfred looks at Tony in confusion before he allows the words to slip softly from his lips.
“America Star Power Make-Up.”
The world explodes into color.
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I can't wait to see if America genderbends as well (and if he figures out that this might make England a guy as well) so update soon please?
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Fight sceeeenes, I'm so jealous you can write them as well as you do. Seriously. I second the liking England's power thing.
I didn't mention this, but I really like how Tony was the Luna character. I was assuming it'd be a minor character or something instead.
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Action scenes are so fun/annoying. Its a very love hate relationship.
Glad you approve of my use of him!! I only remember him talking in one strip and he was cussing up a storm, I thought it would be great fun to use that!!
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More soon, I hope?
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This has to be, hands down, the best Sailor Moon fusion ever. And believe me when I say this, for this anon has read far more Sailor Moon x-overs than she's proud to admit.
I wish I could go on and on for hours over the cleverness of this story (the post-apocalyptic setting, the genderbending, Al-the-creep, Tony) but words fail me right now, so I'll just be here F5ing 'till my finger is numb.
Keep on rocking, Anon! *lame thumbs-up goes here*
reCaptcha says: Presidential engage. Mmm... will the government get involved in this, captcha?
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I'm so happy that you're enjoying this so far! Its a stretch, even for me who is a rabid cross-over fan, but I wanted to give it a shot any way. And, I mean, Sailor Moon was originally sort of a post apocalyptic setting if you looked at it a certain way, but I don't think its common to associate it that way since its set in our time period. For that reason I thought it would give the fic a very fresh feel to it, something I think a lot of cross-overs lack these days. There's also the fact to consider that its a fusion request, not explicitly a crossover request, so that played in as well.
Now that I've said way to much my inner nerd is showing I have to tell you that genderbender is fun. That's really the only reason I have for that...Everything else is planned out, serious!! XD
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