[from here]Oh, how she missed this! Just like old times, riding atop Tokunaga without a care in the world. Anything that got in her way would be trampled with ease
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With the corpse of Bob lying in the hallway and the streak of red blood, they definitely needed to initiate a clean-up process. If this was how things went at night, she wondered how they managed to pull everything together by morning. So, Ramona decided they must have some kind of cleaning crew that didn't mind any of this. One that somehow moved very fast. She wondered if they were tiny little men that snuck out the moment a hall was mostly abandoned, and if so, they were slacking tonight. Or maybe they were tiny little men who ran illusions in the daytime so they didn't need to clean up. Both were viable possibilities. But she figured there'd be more blood if that was the case.
Ramona was more cautious as she headed down the hall this time. If Bob had a Fred and Frank coming to avenge him, she didn't want to make herself that noticeable. Too many trips to the bathroom when trying to be out doing her ninja thing just looked embarrassing.
The blue from earlier appeared more violet under the dim glow of the pink walls. Never mind that Scott was still hurtling down the hall like a... thing that hurtled. A train maybe? Yeah, a train, that was it. Anyway, Scott's mind was more on trains and on creative ways to kick Aguilar to the moon than on strange hair colours.
At least, until he was almost right on top of said strange hair colour. At that point he happened to see just enough of a face under the hair to trigger a lightning bolt of realization in his brain.
Scott's eyes widened. His lips mouthed a name, breath caught in his throat.
He skidded past her in a move that would have left long, heavy scuff marks from his sneakers had it not been for the force field. Slowly, Scott turned around and blinked, gawping like a stupid idiot.
The last thing Ramona expected to see Scott under was pink light that could be from a gay nightclub. And this was only because Wallace had never convinced them to go with him, though he tried hard enough on a number of occasions. It hadn't even occurred to her what Scott would look like under the pink light tonight, because some part of her didn't want to deal with that. Bob the Cockroach helped a little in that arena, and she offered a glance toward him lying there, still dead. A glance back showed her that Scott was still standing there, very much alive
( ... )
Scott didn't catch any of the subtle nuances going on whatsoever. All he saw was Ramona, Ramona, Ramona. Ramona, come closer. Ramona, where have you been? Ramona, there were moments in the night...
He wanted to rush over to her, but found himself rooted where he was, unable to process his own emotions. She was really here, sexy military uniform and everything. But how could she be here? In what shred of a rational brain Scott had, he knew perfectly well how - the same how that went for everyone in the Institute - but how all the same? Two plus weeks of no one, save for a cruel tease at Knives, and it was only now that she was being dropped in front of him
( ... )
"Actually, I'm not entirely convinced that this isn't one of your dreams," she admitted. The thought had occurred to her, but regardless of that, her presence wouldn't be less real. Not that she put it past Scott to not dream about her when she was gone, but in this case, she was thinking and living and breathing and a whole lot of other processes he'd probably overlook in the "developing a dream girl" process. Those are just technicalities, anyway.
"But I never took you for a blaring sirens and a pink lights type. Unless there's something you've never 'fessed up about." Her voice came out a little more fluid then. Ramona wanted to scold herself for that, but she actually liked being able to slide into that so easily. She wanted that. She knew that much, even in the drama-wrought existence that filled up every other part of her mind. Things were always better when they were easy.
Oh yeah, sirens. Those were still going, weren't they? Scott hadn't really noticed.
"H-hey! Don't look at me! This is something only a gay eagle would come up with!" Scott sputtered back, feet still rooted where they were in perfect contrast to the way his arms now flailed with his protest. "If I were dreaming, there would be Sonic speedways and badass swordfights and moogles and annoying fairies, a-and I would be beating up all the Benvie Tech boys and their little dogs too and and... and...!"
He wasn't dreaming.
Scott finally lurched forward at that realization, crossing back over the distance between them and plowing into Ramona with the force of a million hugs in one. So what if she turned out to be a bite-y shapeshifting whatever. For right now at least, and for the rest of the night at best, Ramona was really real and really here, and Scott wasn't going to let her go even if she bit into his shoulder like it was tender veal right about now. It had just been too long.
Biting wasn't on the table, but it wasn't the warmest reception that Scott ever had. That wasn't to say that Ramona didn't like it. But it wasn't to say that she did, either. A quiet dread filled up inside of her. He wasn't dreaming. Ramona suddenly wished that wasn't the case. Dream situations could be manipulated and fled from, but this was live, real, and certain. Her arm looped around him and gave him an awkward hug, and then she pulled back
( ... )
It was a mix of Ramona's halfhearted hug and the smell of blood that made him let go eventually. Had the blood been there before? Scott lifted his foot, which dripped a little on the floor. Yep. Gross, he thought, making a face
( ... )
That was why he was so overjoyed and not awkward. That made sense to Ramona, who was starting to think something was up with Scott. The hug was a little too quick, anyway, but if this place was starting to wear down on him-and strong or not, but there were some things about Scott that couldn't always be resilient-it made sense. Plus, it wasn't like she really expected him to stop loving her. Two weeks seemed weird, she figured that might just have something to do with where they were. All in all, it made sense. So she didn't bother to explain it to him. He knew what happened, right? Two weeks from now, she might even be happy to see one of her exes. Well, one of the exes that wasn't Scott Pilgrim. He was in a league all of his own, even if she sometimes tried mentally placing him otherwise
( ... )
Scott shivered on Ramona's first point. "Eghh. Nope, that plot twist already happened like a week and a half ago. Half the institute woke up thinking they were crazy the entire time. Then they got better. It was kinda weird." Especially considering the major point of reference he had to that blessed event was Bass/Forte, who had been going by "Frank" of all things. It was just really, really hard to imagine a super fighting robot going by "Frank".
"I can get behind the part about not letting this place win, though," he added in after a moment, his tone getting a little more sincerely serious in a way that Ramona's wasn't. "Especially not since they dragged you into this whole steaming pile of... whatever the crap this all is."
So it actually happened here? This really did remind her of some weird interpretation of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, only they snatched the bodies half-way and decided to screw with them the rest of the time. It unsettled her in other ways, too, but Ramona was careful not to point them out. There were some things that she kept from Scott for a while, and since it didn't seem important, she decided that didn't need to change.
"Whatever, dude, I can handle myself." Certain dead corpses in the area showed as much. "You wanna show me around or are we gonna keep standing here having an out of genre moment?" She was done with awkward. Certain things were settled and there was no getting away from Scott Pilgrim now. Ramona figured she might as well willingly deal with it.
At the words "show me around", Scott was finally brought back into the fullness of what was going on around them. The sirens, the pink walls, the power stuff, the blood on the ground. Scott tensed up, suddenly clapping a hand over Ramona's shoulder. "Yes. Yes, standing is bad. Showing is good. Come on, let's go. Grand tour's waiting."
He turned them both around at that, heading back up to the hall he had just come from. Ramona had just said she could handle herself, and he believed her; American ninja girls tended toward the "Tough" and "Kickass" ends of the people spectrum. Scott had a feeling, though, that she could handle herself even better if she had something other than her own fists to protect herself. And he knew exactly where to get something that was Ramona's style. "We're going back to my room for a sec. M85. I've got something there for you."
"Your room?" she asked. Suspicion was already there in Ramona's voice, because it wasn't like Scott was specific. Then again, he was usually more obvious about sex. Innuendo like "I've got something there for you" was way out of Scott's league, unless he started actually listening to Wallace. (Which was unlikely.) It could also be this place, but she figured she would be giving it way too much credit. Then again, she couldn't tell yet. Scott was Scott
( ... )
MEANWHILE, IN SUBSPACE ... inconstancyNovember 3 2011, 07:20:11 UTC
They dropped out of the door without any problem, with Ramona just starting on ahead. A part of her was saddened that there wasn't any illustrated background or even some Gothic architecture in here. It was the same old subspace in here-with one exception: it felt confined. Maybe not the claustrophobic, fifteen drunk people jammed into the elevator of a building that was having a party on the tenth floor kind of crammed, but given the amount of freedom she usually had here, it was noticeable.
She huffed out a sigh and looked back at him. "Scratch that plan. It's completely different in here. That must be where the limit comes in." It was more serious than she'd been before, but some things just happened to be that way.
COME VISIT BEAUTIFUL, SCENIC SUBSPACEvsyourfaceNovember 4 2011, 07:38:13 UTC
"Getting the what nooOOOWWWW?!!"
Scott's ribs came crashing down into his stomach all of a sudden when he fell through the door without expecting it. They hadn't simply fallen over; oh no. It was as though there had been a giant pit trap on the other side of the door where there had been a hallway not minutes earlier. Either the craziness inside the Institute had brought back Portal Night in full force, or...
"Oh my god we're inside a black hole!"
Scott paused a moment.
"I mean subspace!"
He almost missed Ramona's musings about how different it was in here. As far as he was concerned, different was good right now. For the first time in weeks, Scott was somewhere that wasn't Landel's - or any of the sordid places associated with it, like Doyleton or the (shudder) Coliseum. Scott's hopes for a real, graspable escape from the clutches of this place suddenly shot up through several roofs, into the stratosphere, and punched a new hole in the ozone layer.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod so which way back to Toronto from here?"
SUBSPACE: WHERE A LOT OF PEOPLE PROBABLY KNOW YOUR NAMEinconstancyNovember 4 2011, 18:45:16 UTC
"Didn't you just hear me?" she replied quickly. "There isn't one. Which sucks because I meant to hit a sale on Queen a few days ago." Ramona pointed out in the direction of where Doyleton would theoretically be, except she didn't know that, and said, "There's something over there. But it's not the right thing." None of this was the "right thing." She could tell how different this was from the expansive normal subspace, because she'd been using that to her advantage for a while. Roxie had been sure to teach her the ins and outs, and Ramona took advantage of these lessons. Among other things.
But right now, none of that was applying quite right. She considered her actions and then started walking in the direction of where she figured Scott came from. "For all we know, this could just be some big impression messing with my head," she wondered out loud, because while Scott was super excited, her reactions were considerably muted in comparison. Not that they weren't usually, but especially now, that was the case
( ... )
With the corpse of Bob lying in the hallway and the streak of red blood, they definitely needed to initiate a clean-up process. If this was how things went at night, she wondered how they managed to pull everything together by morning. So, Ramona decided they must have some kind of cleaning crew that didn't mind any of this. One that somehow moved very fast. She wondered if they were tiny little men that snuck out the moment a hall was mostly abandoned, and if so, they were slacking tonight. Or maybe they were tiny little men who ran illusions in the daytime so they didn't need to clean up. Both were viable possibilities. But she figured there'd be more blood if that was the case.
Ramona was more cautious as she headed down the hall this time. If Bob had a Fred and Frank coming to avenge him, she didn't want to make herself that noticeable. Too many trips to the bathroom when trying to be out doing her ninja thing just looked embarrassing.
[for Scott]
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He almost missed her entirely.
The blue from earlier appeared more violet under the dim glow of the pink walls. Never mind that Scott was still hurtling down the hall like a... thing that hurtled. A train maybe? Yeah, a train, that was it. Anyway, Scott's mind was more on trains and on creative ways to kick Aguilar to the moon than on strange hair colours.
At least, until he was almost right on top of said strange hair colour. At that point he happened to see just enough of a face under the hair to trigger a lightning bolt of realization in his brain.
Scott's eyes widened. His lips mouthed a name, breath caught in his throat.
He skidded past her in a move that would have left long, heavy scuff marks from his sneakers had it not been for the force field. Slowly, Scott turned around and blinked, gawping like a stupid idiot.
"Ra... Ra................"
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He wanted to rush over to her, but found himself rooted where he was, unable to process his own emotions. She was really here, sexy military uniform and everything. But how could she be here? In what shred of a rational brain Scott had, he knew perfectly well how - the same how that went for everyone in the Institute - but how all the same? Two plus weeks of no one, save for a cruel tease at Knives, and it was only now that she was being dropped in front of him ( ... )
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"But I never took you for a blaring sirens and a pink lights type. Unless there's something you've never 'fessed up about." Her voice came out a little more fluid then. Ramona wanted to scold herself for that, but she actually liked being able to slide into that so easily. She wanted that. She knew that much, even in the drama-wrought existence that filled up every other part of her mind. Things were always better when they were easy.
Reply
"H-hey! Don't look at me! This is something only a gay eagle would come up with!" Scott sputtered back, feet still rooted where they were in perfect contrast to the way his arms now flailed with his protest. "If I were dreaming, there would be Sonic speedways and badass swordfights and moogles and annoying fairies, a-and I would be beating up all the Benvie Tech boys and their little dogs too and and... and...!"
He wasn't dreaming.
Scott finally lurched forward at that realization, crossing back over the distance between them and plowing into Ramona with the force of a million hugs in one. So what if she turned out to be a bite-y shapeshifting whatever. For right now at least, and for the rest of the night at best, Ramona was really real and really here, and Scott wasn't going to let her go even if she bit into his shoulder like it was tender veal right about now. It had just been too long.
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"I can get behind the part about not letting this place win, though," he added in after a moment, his tone getting a little more sincerely serious in a way that Ramona's wasn't. "Especially not since they dragged you into this whole steaming pile of... whatever the crap this all is."
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"Whatever, dude, I can handle myself." Certain dead corpses in the area showed as much. "You wanna show me around or are we gonna keep standing here having an out of genre moment?" She was done with awkward. Certain things were settled and there was no getting away from Scott Pilgrim now. Ramona figured she might as well willingly deal with it.
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He turned them both around at that, heading back up to the hall he had just come from. Ramona had just said she could handle herself, and he believed her; American ninja girls tended toward the "Tough" and "Kickass" ends of the people spectrum. Scott had a feeling, though, that she could handle herself even better if she had something other than her own fists to protect herself. And he knew exactly where to get something that was Ramona's style. "We're going back to my room for a sec. M85. I've got something there for you."
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She huffed out a sigh and looked back at him. "Scratch that plan. It's completely different in here. That must be where the limit comes in." It was more serious than she'd been before, but some things just happened to be that way.
Reply
Scott's ribs came crashing down into his stomach all of a sudden when he fell through the door without expecting it. They hadn't simply fallen over; oh no. It was as though there had been a giant pit trap on the other side of the door where there had been a hallway not minutes earlier. Either the craziness inside the Institute had brought back Portal Night in full force, or...
"Oh my god we're inside a black hole!"
Scott paused a moment.
"I mean subspace!"
He almost missed Ramona's musings about how different it was in here. As far as he was concerned, different was good right now. For the first time in weeks, Scott was somewhere that wasn't Landel's - or any of the sordid places associated with it, like Doyleton or the (shudder) Coliseum. Scott's hopes for a real, graspable escape from the clutches of this place suddenly shot up through several roofs, into the stratosphere, and punched a new hole in the ozone layer.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod so which way back to Toronto from here?"
Reply
But right now, none of that was applying quite right. She considered her actions and then started walking in the direction of where she figured Scott came from. "For all we know, this could just be some big impression messing with my head," she wondered out loud, because while Scott was super excited, her reactions were considerably muted in comparison. Not that they weren't usually, but especially now, that was the case ( ... )
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