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Author Topic: The Daily Lives of Tans  (Read 1243 times)

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Online Coryn

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The Daily Lives of Tans
« on: May 08, 2017, 10:50:39 PM »
Welcome to the Daily Lives of Tans! This is the promised story that ties directly into the Artist-tan contest I've been holding. (Found here: http://forums.mangaraiders.com/index.php?topic=17747.0)

The vote is now up, so choose who the winner is, and that design will appear here in the final chapter! One or two chapters will be released each day until this Sunday. So enjoy!



MONDAY
MONDAY


Monday morning broke clear over the city of Mangaraiders, as it usually did. “Monday mornings
should be clear!” Coryn had proclaimed after starting up the weather control dome. And so, they
were, unless a snow day had been voted on, in which case Monday mornings were cloudy and
white.
   This clear Monday morning, Lego walked down a broad parkway, flanked on either side
by newly blossomed trees. He of course walked straight down the middle of the road, as there
was little fear that a car would come by to run him over. Far more likely a bus would, but he
knew MR-tan mainly kept to the highways, so he felt assured that this morning’s walk would go
uninhibited. “Yes, absolutely nothing strange is going to happen to me this morning.” Lego
thought.
   Lego was wrong. He couldn’t have known he was wrong of course. But it is, generally,
not a good idea to assume that nothing strange was going on in the City of MR.
   Something strange was always going on in MR.
   And so, it was the Lego came across Writer-tan, Coryn, and MR-tan walking down the street.
   “Oh no!” Cried Lego. “You’re not doing this to me today! It was such a lovely morning
too…”
   Writer-tan raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about Lego?”
   Coryn shook his head. “Yeah man, what gives?”
   MR-tan gestured towards her two companions. “We’re taking a nice morning stroll. Just
like you are.”
   The cat stomped his foot on the pavement. “Don’t you say that!”
   “Say what?” They replied in unison.
   “Any of it!” Yelled Lego, before turning his back on them. “I wanted a no-nonsense
morning. I was going down to the shop to buy a new book! And then I was thinking about
getting a nice coffee before heading into the office!”
   Coryn shrugged. “I literally can’t come up with a reason why you couldn’t still do that.”
   “Yeah.” Continued Writer. “We’re just three pals saying ‘good morning’ to you on your way to work.”
   MR-tan and Coryn both nodded their heads as one. “Just a trio of chums.”
   “A cacophony of associates.”
   “Is that the proper name for a group of ‘associates’?”
   “I think so. Writer, does that check out?”
   “Yeah, that checks out.”
   Lego was beginning to tear out small clumps of hair. “Nooooooo! Stop doing this to me
you bastards!”
   MR-tan gasped. “Lego! That’s uncalled for. Coryn, spit on him!”
   Coryn shook his head. “No, I’m still within arm’s reach. Writer, you spit on him.”
   The quiet singing of birds was rudely broken by Writer-tan hocking back the largest
loogie she could muster. But before she could let the projectile fly, Lego dropped to the ground
in prostration. “Fine, fine, I give!” Lego lifted his head, tears streaming in a solid sheet down his
face. “Just quit it with this unreliable narrator thing! Please~!
   “Oh you’re no fun.” Replied MR-tan, her feet firmly planted on the ground.
   “Where’s your sense of humor Lego?” Said Coryn, sitting atop MR-tan’s shoulders.
   “Killjoy.” Finished Writer-tan, who in turn sat upon Coryn’s shoulders.
   Lego stared up at the three-person tall tower, which swayed gently as MR-tan shifted her
weight. He wiped away his tears, and stood, head still hung low. “You’ve defeated me. Guten
morgen MR-tan. Guten morgen Coryn. Guten morgen Writer-tan.”
   Good morning Lego! They said together. “Where are you off to today?”
   “Just to work, Lego croaked. Just work…”
   “Well, have a good day then!” Replied the tower.
   Lego started on past them. “Yeah…” But he called back towards the three before they
were out of earshot. “Say Coryn, how does the back of your neck feel?”
   Lego’s keen perv senses had detected that Writer-tan did not wear pants beneath her
kimono, and that since she was sitting on Coryn’s shoulders…
   The cat moderator turned to hear the reply, but was only greeted by an eyeful of phlegm.
His last memory, before everything went dark, was Writer-tan making an impolite gesture in his
direction as the party of three made their way up the street.


MONDAY MINUS 9 YEARS
MONDAY MINUS 9 YEARS

Mangaraiders wasn’t all that big, not really. The corridors were narrow, twisting, and mazelike,
but a member could walk the length of it in about an hour if they knew the way. To the average
person then it seemed like a quaint little place, not worthy of much note. But this didn’t hold true
if you weren’t, for instance, an average person. If perchance, you had the body of a five-year-old,
the site would seem far larger. This is a good rule to observe about people that age. Things are
much larger in comparison to their tiny bodies, and so they perceive the world much differently
than you or I.
   MR-tan of course, was not a five-year-old. She was a one-year-old, in a five-year-old’s
body. This never struck her as unusual, as she had only been alive for a single year, and was yet
to develop many thoughts deeper than “I am tired.”, “I need to go to the bathroom.”, and
“ICECREAM!”. She was particularly fond of that last one.
   If she had put much more thought into it however, it would have made little difference, as
she had always possessed a five-year-old’s body, and hadn’t lived long enough to see those
around her visibly age. It would have taken someone with a lot of spare time to adequately
explain the concepts of time and aging to her, and so she remained blissfully ignorant.
   All too aware of such things, was MR-tan’s pseudo mother, Corycaly. Who, at that very
moment, was wandering the streets of her little hamlet in search of said pseudo daughter. Pseudo
not in the fact that Corycaly did not love and care for her as a daughter, but in that Corycaly was
a human being, and MR-tan was a being spontaneously birthed by the plane of existence known
as the Net.
   That being said, MR still wasn’t all that big, and Corycaly soon discovered MR-tan and
her only sister, Writer-tan. Writer was only a few months old, but like her sister, came into being
with a body five years older than it should have been. Not that that was the only oddity about the
blonde young girl. To Corycaly’s knowledge, a site should only have a single Tan. So, for a
second one develop for just a single district seemed unnatural. Still, as Corycaly watched the two
girls playing together in a small artist’s district plaza, she didn’t much care about what should
and shouldn’t have been. Her only care was that both were happy.
   “Bonjour filles! How are you doing this afternoon?” Corycaly sung out.
   The sisters had been spinning in a circle, hands together and held up in the air to form an
arch. They were singing a nursery rhyme together, but broke out into excited giggles as they saw
Corycaly approaching. MR-tan was the first up to her, smiling intensely. “Mommy! What are
you doing here?!”
   Corycaly knelt to meet her at eye level. “Just checking up on you two. I haven’t seen you
since this morning. And when you didn’t even come home for lunch I thought you might have
gotten lost.”
   “We’re not lost!” Blurted out Writer-tan. She was a defensive young girl, and had been
since the day she was first reported in the writer’s district. Corycaly saw the makings of a strict
personality, but she knew the girl’s heart was impeachable.
   Corycaly cooed at her. “Oh I see! So, you aren’t lost after all. But aren’t you hungry after
skipping lunch?”
   “We ate!” MR-tan retorted. “We ate lunch with Coryn!”
   This set off more than one alarm bell. Coryn was hardly known for his dietary genius.
“Oh? And what did you eat with Coryn?”
   Writer-tan beamed. “Cup noodles and sour gummy worms!”
   Corycaly felt her stomach churn. “That’s…great girls.” Looking to change the subject,
Corycaly surveyed the little courtyard and gestured around. “So why don’t you show me what
game you were playing?”
   The girls broke away back to their previous play area. Once again they took each other’s
hands and began to sing. “London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down! London
bridge is falling down, my fair lady! Build it up with sticks and clay, sticks and clay, sticks and
clay! Build it up with sticks and clay, my fair lady!”
   As they finished the verse they pulled their arms down, ostensibly to catch another
player. But instead their hands swung through the open air, catching nothing. Corycaly smiled at
them, but felt a tinge of sadness that they were having to play by themselves. “Oh dears, you
need more people to play ‘London Bridge’. Three at the least.”
   MR-tan replied by pouting at her mother. “We do have three people! Don’t we Writer?!”
   “That’s right!” Seconded Writer-tan.
   Corycaly was bemused as she stood, straightening out her back. “It’s just an imaginary
friend then
.” Still, it struck her as improper to just leave it at that. So, she bended down and
reached her arm out, as if to shake hands with an imagery child. “I’m Corycaly, the children’s
mother.”
   It was to her very great surprise then, when she felt the sensation of a tiny hand grabbing
the tips of her fingers, and giving it a light shake. Corycaly hid her shock well, and would have
dismissed it as her imagination, but understood that what had just happened wasn’t some trick of
the mind. She stood, staring at her hand. After a moment’s contemplation, she turned to the pair
of young tans. “Girls, what is your friend’s name?”
   Both smiled widely at her. “Artist! It’s Artist-tan!”
« Last Edit: May 10, 2017, 10:39:23 PM by Coryn »

Will review stories upon request. My latest arc: http://goo.gl/KYgsfF

Online Coryn

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #1 on: May 09, 2017, 09:47:12 PM »
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCQfTNOC5aE

TUESDAY
TUESDAY

Every Tan had their own specialties. Obviously, each was born with an innate understanding of
their roles, their responsibilities, their place in the architecture of the forum. Curiously however,
each possessed a secondary skillset. Ecchi-tan, knew how to cook Italian. Writer-tan, had a way
with money. MR-tan knew how to drive stick.
   Pub-tan knew each of their skills, and understood them well. It was after all, her job
as a bartender, to understand. Her job required knowledge, and knowledge required one to listen.
It was not knowledge about drinks. She knew how to make drinks. She knew what her patrons
were going to order before they ever opened their mouths. Even if she didn’t, she could make it
on the spot. Recipes came into her mind when they were needed. This was a simple fact of life
for her. A simple by-product of her unique existence.
   And so, her special talent, was listening. A good bartender always listened.

   8 AM. Open for business. First order of business: Brew coffee. Most members weren’t
looking for anything hard so early in the morning. For those who did, she kept a bottle of
whiskey and a bottle of Irish cream just within reach, but just hidden from sight. Discretion was
another key skill she possessed.
   Members passed through on their way to work or ‘work’. There was after all little real
infrastructure required in the city. So much was automated, so much quietly managed by the
greater system. A leisurely life was available for those who wanted it. Tabs were calculated, but
rarely enforced. And then, usually only as a threat.

   9 AM. Last of the coffee crowd filters through. Now was the time she would usually kick
out anyone who had fallen asleep in a booth the night before. But today only a single guest
specter sat in the far corner. Quiet and unobtrusive. Grey and unnoticing. Pub-tan had served it
coffee. It hadn’t drunk any. It was just the leftover energies of a passing guest after all. It
couldn’t have had a drink if it wanted to.
   Pub-tan like the company all the same. She named it ‘Marvin’.

   10 AM. Early drinkers. Most people still stayed away at this point. But a few passing
members might stop in for a pint if they felt so inclined. Most didn’t.
   Vacant saddled up to the bar. Leaning against it instead of taking a seat. Pub-tan placed a
pint of Fosters at his side just as he was beginning to open his mouth. “Tah, cheers.”
   Pub watched him as he drank. There was foam in his mustache. She contemplated telling
him about it. “Big plans for the day Vacant?”
   Vacant wiped his mouth and the foam went with it. “Oh just got a few videos to record.”
   “Mhm.” Came Pub-tan’s reply. She secretly congratulated herself on correctly deciding.
Better that he never knew. “I listened to the latest Happy Hour last night. It was rather good.”
   Vacant smiled at her. “Gee thanks! My mics getting a bit buggy, so I was thinking about
replacing it. Funny thing is, it’s not that old really. Maybe it’s my laptop then? Or maybe the
recording software?”
   It was the recording software. It was always the recording software.
   Pub-tan replaced a glass she had been polishing on the rack. “Sounds like you should
double check before making a big purchase.”
   He placed an empty glass back on the bar. “You know what, you’re probably right about
that. Guess I need to go hunting for a better program.” He reached for his wallet. “What do I owe
you?”
   Pub was already washing his glass. “Thirty seconds of airtime, and some glowing praise.”
   Vacant gave her a wink. “Can do love. Coming to a Happy Hour near you: MR Pub! It’s
literally your only option!”
   She rolled her eyes. “It’ll do. Thanks for your patronage.”
   
   11:30 AM. Lunch crowd. There were plenty of places to eat in MR. Most run by captured
specters or by members looking to earn a few bucks. But the Pub had a short list of regulars that
Pub-tan could expect to see on any given day. They were mostly a mix of Raiders who lived in
the district and those who worked downtown. Lego calmly ate fish ‘n’ chips. His cat side
demanded it at least twice a week. Echo River was preoccupied with a plate of ‘Fried
Somethings’, carefully inspecting each bite that went into her mouth. Noisey, who had ordered
the same, didn’t show as much care for his wellbeing.
   The sad fact was that Pub-tan did not know how to cook Italian. But, she did know how
to work a skillet and a deep fryer. Thus, anything you could order at the MR Pub which didn’t
come in a foil bag or a glass was going to be greasy and of questionable nutritional value.

   3 PM. The latest of the lunch goers were long gone. Pub-tan had finally removed
Marvin’s cup of coffee, long had it grown cold. A few people had sat with the specter during
their meal. Pub didn’t know if specters could feel loneliness, but if they could, she believed
Marvin currently wasn’t.
   The bell rang. Coryn stepped inside the otherwise empty bar. Pub-tan poured him a
cocktail of gin, tonic, lime, and a luminescent blue liquid he had given to her shortly after being
reborn as a cyborg. “For my bones.” He had said. Pub-tan had been unable to discern what the
liquid was, but it was now a part of every drink she made him.
   The funny thing about the flask, was that it had never run dry. It was not all that big of a
flask either. Pub-tan suspected portals were involved. Coryn could hardly go a week without
messing around with interdimensional portals. It was his one true weakness. Pub-tan did not
particularly like the idea of having an active rift to…wherever…sitting underneath the bar. But it
was par for the course when it came to most Raiders.
   Coryn eyed her. Pub-tan eyed him. Their ritual went as follows.
   “Y’know…”
   “I don’t.”
   “I wouldn’t mind doing some research with you.”
   “Research?”
   “You’re good with your hands, you understand chemistry.”
   “I understand drinks.”
   “Same thing. You know how to mix alcohols. That’s ten times the experience most
potential assistants have. Plus, you have very steady hands. Steady hands are a must have.”
   “Is that why most of your “interns” don’t last a week?”
   “Don’t “finger quotes” my “interns”.”
   “What’s in the flask?”
   “Excess clones I fed into my industrial juicer.”
   Coryn always gave her an answer to that question. The answer was always different. Pub
wasn’t convinced that he didn’t think up a new answer in the shower each morning. She cracked
a smile as Coryn got up to leave. “I’ll come next Saturday.”
   “You work next Saturday.” Coryn retorted, smiling as he stepped out into the sun.
   Pub-tan worked every Saturday.
   
   6 PM to 2 AM. The last six hours of her day were always the same. Partiers would come
in, have a few too many, and either pass out where they sat or drunkenly make their way back to
their homes, safely hidden away in the massive city. Pub-tan yelled as a few members,
threatened those who try to reach over the bar and help themselves, and shooed off those who
had earned themselves temporary bans from the establishment. Finally, she would lock up and
maybe lay a blanket or two down on those who remained. After assuring herself that all was
well, Pub-tan always retired to her small apartment above the pub. Sleep was optional for a Tan,
so, she would often read, or browse the goings on in other parts of the Net. Eventually she would
grow bored, and sleep for a few hours just because she could. Tonight, she dreamed of a fish that
was also a deck of cards at the same time? Dreams were funny that way.
« Last Edit: May 09, 2017, 09:53:07 PM by Coryn »

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Offline legomaestro

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #2 on: May 10, 2017, 01:06:32 AM »
Will listen to the music when I get home, but loved that second chapter for sure. Even if it were a stand-alone short of Pub-tan it'd be worth the read. Who the heck is Marvin? Is Coryn really beyond melting left over clones? Find out in the next episode of Mangaraiders Z.

Vacants opening skit on that happy hour episode where he talks about the Happy Hour as some lost legend made me feel wistful about reading this for she reason. Ideas, ideas.

Also why the hell do YOU get to have a no pantsu straddle dammit

Online Coryn

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #3 on: May 10, 2017, 12:57:13 PM »
I'm American, no pants means no trousers. Calm down.
« Last Edit: May 10, 2017, 04:54:00 PM by Coryn »

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #4 on: May 10, 2017, 03:29:47 PM »
Oh gawd seriously? I seriously forgot about that.

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #5 on: May 10, 2017, 10:33:06 PM »
Next chapters away.

WEDNESDAY
WEDNESDAY

Lego crept along. Lego usually creeped, different meaning. Today Lego crept because he
had no other choice. Was he creeping? Or was he just walking carefully? There had to be a more
innocent word for the motion.
   “Men are beasts!” Yelled Lewd-tan from…somewhere. Lego couldn’t tell. He couldn’t
see her.
   Ecchi-tan replied to her. “But you said you liked it when men were beasts to you Nee-
chan. You said-” There was a slap. Not a, ‘I am trying to do physical harm to you’, slap. But a,
‘I have just quickly covered your mouth with my hand so you would stop telling embarrassing
stories about me even though I’m secretly into it’, slap. Lego may have added the last part. He
couldn’t have been sure, because he could not see Lewd’s lips as she mouthed something to her
sister.
   Lego crept along the cold stones. He could hear the water, lapping quietly against the
edge of the pool. Fountain? It was a pool that had a fountain. Finally, he felt the rounded edge he
was looking for. “I’m climbing in now!” He said, far too loudly than what the scene called for.
He was blind, not deaf.
   “You’re blind, not deaf!” Called out Lewd-tan. “Be careful now, it’s about a meter to the
bottom. Don’t slip and get blood everywhere.”
   Lego stepped down into the water, and settled with care on the raised sitting ledge that
ringed it. “Can I take this off now?”
   Lewd-tan replied. “Yeah go ahead.”
   Lego finally removed the blindfold. He had been forced to march his way up nearly the
whole hill with it on. This was so he wouldn’t be able to see anything he shouldn’t have. The
Twins weren’t worried about him running into any archaic knowledge they kept about. His
position as a Mod allowed him that without restriction. No, they were concerned with something
else entirely.
   It was law that no one could wear a bathing suit in Ecchi World unless it was actively
being used for seductive purposes. This kept all but the most adventurous members from
frequenting the numerous open air baths. But Lego could not refuse an invitation to bathe with the
Tans. They could, however, blindfold him and force him to walk half a mile to reach them.
Finally situated, Lego found to his disappointment that he was on the direct opposite
side of the wide pool, and that the milky white consistency of the water kept him from stealing
even the most diffracted of glances through the water.
   “Damn bath bombs!” Lego thought. Was that glitter? That was definitely glitter. It was
like staring into a pearly oil spill, and it would take at least a month of showers to get it all off.
   Across the pool Lego could see the heads and shoulders of Ecchi-tan, Lewd-tan, and
MR-tan. Hair down, glasses off. It was a good look. He made a mental note to keep his jaw shut,
and another to remember this moment forever. A tray floated next to Lewd, a bottle of presumably
sake sat on it. Only partially full, presumably. Ecchi was quietly drawing faces in the
shimmering surface, and MR wore an expression that suggested this was the first moment of true
relaxation she had experienced in a while. Lego was concerned that she was going to drown if
she relaxed her muscles any more.
Lewd-tan looked up at him. “Soooo Legoooo…How’s work these days? Catch any
intruders? How are those hacker girls? What where their names again? Ahab and Ackbar?
What’s with the horns growing out of their heads? Are they natural? Can they feel things through
them? If I were to yank them back sharply at the moment of-”
It was now Ecchi-tan’s turn to clap her hand over her sister’s mouth. “Hehehe… Sis
really can get carried away sometime.” Lego nodded in agreement. He was still getting his head
around the situation he found himself in. The Twins didn’t usually trust him this much. Lego
knew when he was being played. He had a lot of experience. They wanted something from him.
He just didn’t know what yet.
As if on cue, another tray floated up to Lego, this one carrying a full bottle of sake and
two cups. Lego eyed the elder twin. “Work is fine. Lots of paperwork. I’m…not really sure
where it comes from to be entirely honest with you…It’s just there every morning when I go in.
Most of it is just After-Action reports and Situational reports. But I had one the other day that
just asked me what my opinions on dragons were? It was really strange. I had to fill it out in
triplicate…” He sensed he was beginning to babble and poured himself a cup of sake. “So how
are you three?”
   Ecchi-tan was the first to reply. “We’re doing well! There is a lot more traffic recently!
Although a few of the more ‘devout’ members have started leaving us artwork. Some of it is…”
Her face went flush with embarrassment. “A little too much for me.”
   The cat suppressed every fiber of his being telling him to go out and find the artist
immediately. He wanted to demand it from the Tans, to file it away in his private collection. He
settled for “This is really good sake! But, why are there two cups?”
   “Oh, one is for Hasith.” Replied MR-tan.
   “Hasith?” Questioned Lego. But before he could dig deeper a dark shape appeared next
to him in the water. The first thing to break the surface was a mess of black hair, followed by the
dark-skinned head of the Administrator. Unlike Lego, he had remained blindfolded. It seemed
that one of the Tans had pulled his headband down over both eyes, instead of just the usual one.
Moreover, as he rose higher, Lego saw that his entire body was bound in heavy chains. With a
morbid realization Lego understood that he would be impossible for him to move a single
muscle more than a few inches, let alone swim or serve himself a drink.
   Hasith looked up at Lego, but slightly off to the left. “Lego, poor me a cup. I had hoped
that the water would dissolve headband, but no such luck.”
   Lego shouted at him, still getting over the shock. “What the hell man?! How long have
you been under there?! And furthermore, aren’t they like, your daughters or something?! Why
are you all chained up?!”
   “I don’t trust him.” Chimed in Lewd-tan. “He’s the most dangerous one of you all. Now,
serve the old man a drink.”
   Lego complied. But whispered to Hasith as he helped him gulp the clear alcohol down.
“Don’t you have like, Matrix powers or something? Can’t you just like, sense where everything
is?”
   Hasith made a slight movement. Lego took it to be a shrug. “I’m not ‘The One’ Lego!
That’s a fictional movie after all. This is real-life! Where were realistically live in a giant internet
simulation of the physical world.”
   “Uh…huh…” Was Lego’s only reply. He was disrupted by the sound of splashing water
on the far side of the pool. As he looked up to see what had cause it however, his vision went
black again. He clearly remembered leaving the blindfold on the side of the pool behind him, but
somehow it had returned to his face.
   MR-tan’s voice came into his ears. “Well this has been nice you guys. But I need to get
back to MR. I’m meeting with Coryn this afternoon so he can run some tests on me.”
   Alarm bells went off in Lego’s and Hasith’s minds.
        “Coryn?!”
        “Alone?!”
        “In his secluded division?!”
        “MR-tan, what is this?! Are you dating?! What has he done to you?! Has he drugged
you?!”
        “Tell your Papa! Trust Papa!”
        “That slippery bastard! I always knew he was up to no good! Stealing away poor
innocent MR-tan like that! I should kill him again!”
        The two couldn’t have known it, but from an outside perspective, they looked completely
ridiculous. MR-tan stared blankly at them as she toweled off and dressed. Ecchi-tan looked at her
and shrugged as Lewd-tan took another long draft of sake. Finishing it off, Lewd gazed up at her
sister with a dreamy look in her eyes. “You make me proud. I couldn’t get them to react like that
in a thousand years.”
        MR shrugged like it wasn’t a thing. “I guess it just goes to show that I’m still the most
talented sibling. Ciao!” She waved before disappearing in a bright flash of blue light and floating
code. Ecchi and Lewd were left to ponder their guests, still yelling advice at a girl who could no
longer hear them.


WEDNESDAY MINUS 8 1/2 YEARS
WEDNESDAY MINUS 8 ½ YEARS

Early afternoon on MR was usually pleasant. A time for after lunch naps, musings, and duels.
        These were not mutually exclusive things.
        Today however, things were different. Hasith had been away for the last several days,
and had only returned just hours before. Nearly every member had their own pet theory to his
absence. Most would be wrong. Few would be right. And even fewer still would recognize the
importance of his trip upon his return.
        When Hasith arrived, he brought two strange and unfamiliar young women with him.
        One seemed slightly older (was she older?), slightly taller, and with a sharp set of eyes beneath
shocking red hair. The other seemed slightly younger (was she younger?), slightly shorter, and
with a wide pair of eyes beneath hair the color of bubblegum.
        Members tracked the trio’s trip through the town. Hasith seemed to be giving them a tour,
and before long, the majority of raiders were moving in a large group behind them. They kept
mostly to the roofs of buildings and back alleys, but a few of the less dignified members simply
strolled behind them, curiosity in full view.
        Another trio watched them from one of the taller buildings. Coryn, Kite, and Hope had all
gathered to see the commotion. Kite’s eyes were hidden behind a mop of blonde hair, but he was
obviously salivating. “Who…who do you think they are?”
        Hope sighed. “No idea. But you should keep your mouth closed. They’ll hear you
breathing.”
        This received a chuckle from Coryn, who tilted his hat up to get a better look at the
procession far below. “I wonder. They look like siblings.”
        Kite rolled up to his feet. “Yeah, but like…!” He began making motions with his hands in
the rough approximation of the female form. “Look at ‘em! And with those school uniforms!”
        “I’ll be sure to introduce you to them.” Said Hope, who the other two realized was
already beginning to climb down from the roof. “If I remember to. Later suckers!”
        There was a pause as Kite and Coryn processed Hope’s intentions. Finally catching on,
the two scrambled down as well. It wouldn’t do for either of them to not be first in line.

        Hasith was well aware that they were being followed. But paid the onlookers little mind
as he toured his town with his newest additions. The crowd had grown obtuse, but as they neared
the center of town, interest had begun to wane, so now only the die-hard remained. Hasith ushered
his guests into the tower which had begun to grow around the center of the town. The great tree
which had originally grown there was now surrounded by the ever-expanding metal walls. Now
several stories high, they incased it in a quiet courtyard. Dirt and grass still held their ground
against the encroaching tile, and in this haven of natural life sat the three Tans. Corycaly had
done her best to clean and groom them for the occasion. MR-tan wore a new dress, Writer-tan
had a bow fashioned around her waist, and Artist-tan…well, Artist-tan was the same as she
always was. The girl was impossible to pin down. At times, she seemed completely
monochrome, with straight black hair. At others, she was vibrant and full of color. The only
feature which remained consistent were her fiery red eyes. Hasith had found them disquieting at
first, but soon saw them as a blessing. If it wasn’t for her distinctive eyes, he would never be able
to keep track of her. Sometimes her very existence felt split between the two extremes, making
her difficult to locate on regular cognitive plains.

        Each girl, looking all the world to be around five or six years old, sat on a stone bench. Lined
up straight, but obviously straining against their own better judgement to rush out and greet the
two strangers. Hasith came to a halt in front of them, and stepped aside to reveal the strangers.
He took note of a few adventurous raiders sitting in the dark corners of the growing atrium, and
elevated his voice just enough to let them hear. “MR-tan, Writer-tan, Artist-tan, meet your new
sisters: Lewd-tan and Ecchi-tan.”
        Silence. Hasith was pretty sure the three didn’t know what the two words meant. “That is,
I made another site, another city. One that pertains to my separate, but related interests…And
these two are Tans of that city! Say hello you two.”
        “Sup.” Replied Lewd-tan. Ecchi-tan had gone all starry eyed the moment she had laid
eyes on the three young girls, and could not muster a response.
        “Err…right.” Continued Hasith. “So I’m sure you have some quest…” All three had
already raised their hands high into the air. “Yes, MR, you first.”
        “Which one is me?! Who’s the strongest?!”
        “If you mean which is the main Tan for the site, then that would be…both of them? I’m
still trying to figure it out myself. But they are both the prime Tan of the site. As for which one is
strongest, well they’re only a couple days old, so I haven’t really put that to the test yet.”
        Writer-tan was next. “Why are they both grown up already?! They’re supposed to be
younger than us!”
        Hasith scratched the back of his head. “I think it would be weirder if they weren’t?”
        “Ah, I understand!” Replied Writer.
        She did not understand.
        “How about you Artist-tan?” Asked Hasith.
        She put her hand down. “Are they going to live here with us?! They can stay in my
room!”
        Ecchi-tan had broken rank and was instantly kneeling at Artist’s feet, clutching her hands
in hers. “The adorable little older sister is right! We should stay here for a while! Can we Sis?!
Can we?!” She was looking right past Hasith at Lewd-tan. Her twin blushed before turning her
back on the group.
        “Yeah I guess. The little buggers are pretty cute after all…” She turned and pushed past
Hasith, who had already broken out into tears from being ignored. “Plus it’ll give me a great
opportunity to meet some of the new marks around here!”
        This elicited a round of comments from the gallery. Mostly of confusion, but a few
quick-witted members barked out their acceptance of the challenge. All mumblings were quieted
when Corycaly rose however. She put her arms around her two newest additions and pulled them
in for a powerful hug.
        “Magnifique! We’ll put on a party tonight to celebrate and introduce you two to our
members! I’m sure it will go wonderfully.”
        It of course did, depending on one’s point of view. The night would end with several
cracked heads and many more broken hearts. The mystery of which twin was the strongest was
equally short lived, and to this day many will claim that they stole Ecchi-tan’s first kiss.
Although each and every one of them would be wrong.

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #6 on: May 11, 2017, 02:02:56 AM »
I'm not sure why, but I died at MR-tan's secondary skillset being that she can drive stick. Maybe because it's so late that everything is funny...
Oh my lord, Hasith. What has he done to deserve the binding treatment, and in a bath? That must be outrageously uncomfortable.
I have to say that I'm loving the development of the Tans, which does remind me that I am working on a "final revision" for GC, although the changes are mostly minute and have little to do with the overall plot content.

I am interested to see where you'll take this, especially since Froggy is in the lead right now as far as Art-tan's design. It makes me a little sad that we might have an all-girl Tan lineup. Ah, well, I digress.
"My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others!"--Marquis de Sade
"A loss of innocence / one hand to wash the other / be a perfectionist / you're nothing if you're just another"--TBM, "Goodnight"
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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #7 on: May 11, 2017, 07:41:09 AM »
Well you won't have long to find out at least. It's amazing how fast a month of work flies away.

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #8 on: May 11, 2017, 09:33:55 PM »
Play for effect: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kC8xkvb14rU


THURSDAY
THURSDAY

        “Ow! Careful where you’re stepping!”
        “You watch where you’re stepping! It’s dark in here!”
        “I know!”
        “I never anticipated it would be this dangerous…”
        “You said you’d done this before!”
        “I have! But last time involved a lot more robots, and zombies, and zombie robots.”
        “Just what kind of life are you leading?!”
        “Sssshhhh! I think I hear something up ahead.”
        The two intruders pressed themselves into the shadows as a faint, blue-green figure
passed through the hallway ahead of them. It was a stern looking woman, only about half the size
that her apparent age would suggest. She disappeared while crossing the gap created by the
hallway the intruders hid in, but reappeared on the far side, once again taking form using the
hologram projectors hidden along the corridor’s length.
        “The hell was that?” Questioned Mahlua.
        “That,” Lego replied, as he peered around the corner. “was one of the sixty-three V.I.’s
which help run this facility. Although I don’t recognize which one she is.”
        She raised an eyebrow at the dark-skinned man. “V.I.? Is that anything like A.I.?”
        He shrugged. “Virtual Intelligence. Coryn says that means they aren’t actually sentient.
Could’a fooled me.”
        “Do they always look that scary?”
        “Not the ones I’ve met.” Lego motioned for them to advance, and so the pair continued to
creep through the darkened hallways. They were dark of course because it saved power, and the
lights were programed to only activate for certified personnel or registered guests.
        Lego and Mahlua were neither, in case you were interested.
        No, they had snuck in. It was not without some difficulty of course. The two had hacked
(physically so), their way through a concealed entrance that Mahlua had seen used during the end
of year community events. Coryn had welded it shut as a matter of course, but that would only
go so far towards stopping a determined foe. Once inside, they had scouted around blindly,
sticking their heads into different sub-departments, until finally coming across directions to a
section that sounded promising.
        “‘Humanoid Testing: Live.’ We’re finally here.” Muttered Lego.
        Mahlua ran her handing across the sign display, attempting to sense any deeper meaning
in the electricity streaming through it. “Let’s hope your hunch is right.”
        Lego felt confident, and with good reason. He could see a slim beam of light cutting
across the corridor just ahead. Together they crept up to it. A sliding door, just ajar, just wide
enough for light, not enough to see.
        But maybe, wide enough to hear.
        As one, the two pressed their ears against the door.
        “Are you sure it was today?”
        “I’m sure.”
        Presently, they waited, and soon enough, their patience was rewarded. MR-tan’s voice
emanated from the room. “Is…this okay?” She sounded nervous, which made the eavesdroppers
nervous as well. “How does it look?”
        “What are they-?”
        Coryn’s voice cut Mahlua off. “You wear it well MR. I wouldn’t call it overly revealing.”
        “Ah, that’s good. I was worried. But didn’t you say this would be a bit invasive?”
        “It’s fine. I’ll just pull what I need to aside.”
        Lego’s face would have gone red if it could have. In equal parts shame and anger. His
blood was beginning to boil. Mahlua, who had positioned herself lower than him, was doing her
best to stifle any blood flow from her nose to the floor. “He wouldn’t!”
        “He better not.” Replied Lego, through gritted teeth.
        Coryn’s soothing, bedside voice hit their ears once again. “Just lay down here MR, try
and relax. It will hurt more if you’re all tensed up.”
        “Okay, I’ll try. It’s just…I didn’t think it would be that long…”
        “The longer it is, the deeper I can get.”
        Out in the hallway, Lego nearly swallowed his tongue. Mahlua’s breath was slowly
becoming visible. Both nearly collapsed as they heard MR-tan moan.
        “Ah-hah!”
        “It’s in, how does it feel?”
        “Not as painful as I thought it would be…Am I bleeding?”
        “Just a little.”
        Lego, who had been biting his fist, felt the distinct sensation of his teeth puncturing his
skin. Mahlua was in tears, desperately wishing she had brought something to record this moment
with. “I swear my Goddess; I will avenge your innocence…”
        MR-tan’s breathing had quickened, but Coryn continued in his reassuring tone. “If it’s
okay with you, I’m going to go a little deeper.”
        “Go…go ahead. Go as deep as you think you need to.”
        It was their breaking point. They could listen to no more. They could no longer sit idly by
in inaction. The two had come here with perverse thoughts in their hearts, but now, having
learned of the dark goings on of the Science Division, they found themselves with a renewed
sense of righteousness. Lego raised his foot, Mahlua summoned up her magics. Together they
would rid the good people of Manga Raiders of such cruel injustice.
        With a single kick, Lego broke the door down, taking it clean off its track. “The arbiters
of truth and justice are here! Your reign of tyranny over the purity of young girl’s hearts is at an
end!” Mahlua stepped past him, ready to fry every circuit in the scientist’s body. “Unhand her
you foul beast of a man! You shall not infringe upon the fair lady’s chastity any longer!”

        This display, of course, came as a great surprise to Coryn, who stood fully clothed over
MR-tan, both hands firmly gripping the syringe he was using to draw blood from the poor girl.
The girl who, despite having removed her normal clothes, was still preserving her modesty with
the usual modesty preserving properties of a standard hospital gown. Together they looked at the
pair who had moments ago ruined a perfectly serviceable door, and were now only slowly
processing their mistake.
        “You mean to say…” Gulped Lego.
        “That ‘Coryn running some tests on you’…” Whimpered Mahlua.
        “Isn’t a secret euphemism for clandestine activities?”
        Coryn removed the syringe and covered the tiny wound with a gauze pad without ever
taking his eyes off them. He quietly capped the attached vial and slotted it away in a receptacle,
before slinging an entire tray of surgical instruments in the intruders’ direction. “Of course not!
What kind of monster do you take me for?!”
        Oddly contorted as they now were, Mahlua and Lego listened to the popping and hissing
of the electronics embedded in the wall behind them, their regular functions now disrupted by the
addition of several stainless-steel objects. “It’s just that…”
        “Lego made me do it!”
        “Don’t turn on me so quickly!”
        “It was all his idea! I’m just an innocent bystander in all of this!”
        Coryn tossed another scalpel at her. “As if I’d believe that for a second!”
        MR-tan had finally risen from the table, slowly massaging her arm where the needle had
been inserted. “Honestly you two, do you really think something like that would happen between
Coryn and I? I’ve known him nearly my entirely life. He’s like a big brother to me.”
        These words cut deeply in different ways. For Lego, it was shame, plain and simple. He
could feel the Tan’s disappointment sink deep into his heart. It was a cruel and as sharp as any
blade. He began to cry, and soon enough, fell to his hands and knees in prostration. To his
surprise, he found Mahlua had already beat him to the punch, but she seemed to be there for a
different reason. Lego listened intensely to her muttering.
        “Ah…a brother? A big brother? Does this…my pantheon…my precious pantheon…I
have to rework everything…Does this mean I have to rebuild my shrine? Do I need a new
shrine?…How does he work into the power structure?...If he’s a brother to MR-tan, that means
he’s a brother to the Twins…If he’s a brother to the Twins…then…” She cried out at the Tan
and the scientist. “What terrible things have you entreated upon your so-called sisters Coryn?!
Tell me what to do, oh Tan of Tans!”
        MR’s eye twitched. “No, really, don’t involve me in this. Go talk to the Twins if you
want to worship…” She turned towards Coryn. “Could we…”
        He rubbed his temples in frustration. “Already on it.” With a flick of his wrist, Coryn
enveloped Lego and Mahlua in a force bubble, backed them out of the room, and with another
flick, sent them flying off through the Science Division hallways, destined for the nearest exit.
        “I swear I’m going to start blindfolding everyone I bring down here.”

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Offline MahluaandMilk

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #9 on: May 12, 2017, 10:57:00 PM »
Hahaha, yeah. I probably would go to make sure you wouldn't do anything too sketch, but I do kind of figure your place is more like a scribe than something too worthy of religious veneration. Now we have to sit and wonder what the f--- kind of properties the Tans' blood have. Then again, wouldn't that be a thing you tested ages ago?

(But hey, maybe you can be the equivalent of a Saint in Catholicism, at the very most.)
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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #10 on: May 13, 2017, 01:02:48 AM »
Actual representation of Coryn Sken:



Blood tests are an important step in any examination.


FRIDAY
FRIDAY

Writer-tan was a genius, of this, she did not require the burden of proof. She had been born a
genius, it was in her blood, her code.
   The first thought someone would have, if they knew her only by name, would be that she
was a genius in the field of writing. “She sure is a genius in the field of writing.”, they might say.
This statement would be false, or rather, it would be only a half truth. Writer-tan wrote, certainly,
this was also in her blood, but it was not which made her a genius. Writing and the particulars
therein came to her as naturally as breathing. As you would never describe yourself as ‘a genius
in the field of breathing’, she would never describe herself as ‘a genius in the field of writing’.
   The unsound logic of the statement gave her no end of headaches.
   No, what made her a genius had nothing to do with words, but with numbers.
   Writer-tan was a financial genius. This is what she would describe as her true talent. She
understood money, she understood a checkbook, she understood credit, interest rates,
spreadsheets. She understood the delicious coolness of coins in her pocket, and the smell of a
crisp bill.
   And it was with this mindset, that Writer-tan set out, as she did at the end of every week,
to collect debts.
   Now, if asked, Writer would never tell you that she forced people to take loans from her.
And this was true, she never forced anyone to do anything. However, she was not going to do
anything to dissuade someone from taking a loan either. It was a simple equation. Most people
who grow up on the Net don’t take time to learn about proper fiscal responsibility, so they will
inevitably run low on funds. Writer-tan had the most funds in town, so if someone needed a little
money, they always went to her.
   It wasn’t as if she was being heartless either. The basic needs of life were supplied by the
city itself. Buildings came pre-plumbed, and pre-powered, and a virtual body doesn’t want for
food as a necessity. So, Writer could justify her actions because anything that her money went to
pay for, were strictly superfluous. If Johnny McNewbie wanted a new body pillow, then it was
his own fault when the debt collector came a knocking.
   “Or Johnny McOldie.” Remarked Writer-tan, spotting her first mark of the day.
   Noisey sat on a park bench, quietly reading a copy of The Daily Raider. His headphones
were on, so he never noticed Writer-tan as she walked up in front of him and pulled the
newspaper down. “Where’s my money.”
   She was, as ever, blunt. Noisey pulled down his headphones, not bothering to pause the
music playing through them. Writer heard the faint noise of a drum solo, but continued past it.
“You’re two weeks past due.”
   “It’s in the mail.” Replied Noisey, as nonchalant as you could be.
   “You said that three weeks ago.”
   “We have a terrible mail service.”
   Writer-tan’s response was a loud ‘che!’. It was true, the mail service was terrible. Come
to think of it, she wasn’t sure who was in charge of the mail. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever
seeing someone deliver any either. “I’m sure it’ll be there any day now.”, chimed in Noisey. His
voice was optimistic, and Writer couldn’t disprove him on the fact.
   “Fine,” Writer-tan stood to her full height, underwhelming as it was. “but if it’s not in by
next Friday, then I’ll be forced to get physical with you.”
   Noisey was already pulling his headphones back up. “See you then!” He went back to his
newspaper. Writer-tan was annoyed by this encounter, but Noisey was small fry. There were
bigger fish in the pond.

   Around noon, Writer-tan spotted her next target. Unfortunately, her next target saw her as
well, and immediately bolted (literally). “I hate it when they run.” Remarked Writer-tan, calmly
pulling out the scroll she kept tied at her waist.
   Several blocks away now, Mahlua was riding along the electrical lines towards freedom.
Her only hope now was to make it over to one of the older districts and lose Writer-tan in the
twisting streets. She had been performing this little flight for over a month now, and was
beginning to think Writer-tan just wasn’t going to give up. It was like being chased by a hungry
shark. A hungry shark with blonde pig-tails, but a shark all the same. No wig was worth this, no
matter how prismatic it was.
   Mahlua retook her physical form as she neared one of the outlying district, but found
herself shocked when Writer-tan was standing on the top of the power pull in front of her. A long
scroll floated unfurled behind her, it’s mysterious runes glowing with an ominous intensity.
“Running won’t help, I already know your home address. I am prepared to wait you out there,
but my schedule is very busy, so I would appreciate it if we could settle this now.”
   The ginger came to a rest on the electrical wires, gently bobbing up and down. She had
never been able to grasp Writer’s magic. Likely, the Tan’s power was completely unique to her,
and therefore not governed by known rules. Mahlua considered for a moment fighting her way
through, but after considering the bit about Writer-tan ambushing her at home, she acquiesced.
“Alright, you win this time. But there’s just one problem.”
   “And that is?”
   “I’m broke!”
   Writer-tan sighed, pushing her glasses back up with practiced composure. “Of course you
are. Just how much money is in your account right now?”
   “I’m overdrawn!”
   “Don’t say that with such enthusiasm!”
   The lighting elemental did her best to laugh it off. “But uh…is there…maybe some other
way I could work it off?” Mahlua gave a knowing wink. Writer-tan gave a knowing narrowing of
the eyes. Mahlua gave a knowing dodge as Writer-tan sent a knowing barrage of magically
summoned writing utensils flying in her direction. Ultimately though, Writer knew she could not
wring blood from a stone, and let Mahlua off with only a single fountain pen embedded in her
leg for her trouble.

   Recast the net. Bigger fish.
   There was still the biggest fish of them all.
   MR Tower loomed tall on the horizon. It was, as a point of fact, the tallest building in
MR, and the center of the great circular city, from which the whole thing grew. It performed the
sum-total of all administrative responsibilities for the entire city, and it was where the
Moderators and Administrators had their official offices. As such, it was a central focus for all
economic activity, with more money being filtered through its halls than any other place on the
site.
   Which in Writer-tan’s eyes, was exactly the problem.
   Administration was always spending money in some capacity. The Mods and Admins
were salaried. Their community events were always paid for. Each division had funding. Not to
mention the vast collection of ‘special projects’ which could be literally anything. Money was
always flowing out, but Writer never saw a single red cent go in. The city had no taxes, no fees,
no official income. It was illogical. The perfect recipe for runaway inflation seemed to be in
place, but somehow the city churned on regardless, never skipping a beat. It caused Writer-tan no
end of headaches and frustration, but today she was determined that it would end.
   Today she was going to see the books for herself.
   Writer marched confidently into the main lobby. The bottom floor was in fact several
stories high, with glass walls in all directions. This left the reception desk near the middle of the
room sitting in a soft amber glow. No one was there to great her. This was normal of course.
Most members who ever tried running the desk broke down and abandoned their post within a
few weeks. Tedium can do that to a person.
   Still, Writer-tan smacked the small silver bell. Its clear tone echoed across the panes of
glass, bouncing to and froe. Sometimes hitting her ears, sometimes not. Eventually it died away,
and in its place Writer-tan heard the shifting gears and wires of the elevator. Sure enough, out
popped someone to great her.
   She had expected a guest specter, even maybe a member of staff, but instead a Coryn-bot
stepped out. “Hadn’t you all been destroyed.” It was a statement, not a question. But the 2.0
model wasn’t keen on subtly.
   “Incorrect.” The voice was mechanical and grating, along with the bot’s appearance. Like
all 2.0 models, it was somewhere between looking fully robotic and fully human. In this case,
only the hands seemed to be made of flesh. Writer-tan found the juxtaposition unsettling.
   “I need to see the accounting books.” It seemed to think for a while, glowing red eyes
pondering her in silence.
   “Access denied. Have a good day.” It turned to leave.
   “Wait!” Writer cried. “I have permission from a moderator!”
   It wasn’t technically a lie. She had asked Coryn on Monday what the deal with the
accounting was. He told her to go see for herself if she was so interested. The bot would have
had no idea about this though, but her words did give it pause. “Very well. Follow me.”
   “JUST LIKE THAT?!” The epiphany that she should have relied not on the laxness, but
the stupidity of the security dawned on her like a brick to the face. Writer was thankful that the
bot wasn’t about to read her expression, and followed it in silence.
   Together they boarded the elevator and ascended. Floor after floor after floor sped by.
Eventually they stepped out onto a level filled with rows and rows of filing. A small sign read
‘accounting’. “This way.” The bot said, directing Writer-tan down the hallway of filing cabinets
with its uncomfortably attached flesh hand.
   “Th-thank you.” No time to be flustered. No time to waver. Writer set out, taking the
winding path through the cabinets. They were far too high for her to see over, and their layout
was haphazard, random even. But she could see a light ahead, a great glass wall.
   She was running now. She could feel it, taste it. The answer was just ahead of her, just on
the other side of some glass. But when she finally reached the window, Writer found she wanted
to scream.
   There, a vast room lay before her. A room so massive that it broke the lays of relative
space. In other words, there was no way that room could have existed where it did in the tower. It
was just then that Writer realized that the glass wasn’t a window at all. It was a screen, and she
was looking at a live feed from somewhere else in the city.
   This is not why she wished to scream. She wished to scream because of what she saw in
the room beyond. A great multitude of guest specters moved through it. Hundreds. Each carrying
in their rounded, non-hands, fat wads of cash. Bills, coins, hand written IOU’s even. They
dropped this money into great machines, which through some unseen means, cleaned, ironed,
and polished the tender being fed into them. The IOU’s were nowhere to be seen.
   At first it seemed like nonsense, but the subtle clues gave way to the larger picture.
Mixed in with the money was dirt, leaves, dryer lint, dust. This wasn’t just money, this was lost
money. The administration had set these specters to the task of gathering up the city’s lost
change. Coins fallen through a sewer grate, bills taken by the wind. Central Administration’s
entire revenue stream was coming from the cash that the populace had simply….lost.
   Writer-tan quickly dug into the files around her. While it was, true to its image, a
disorganized mess, her understanding was quickly confirmed. “Just how absent minded are the
people around here?...” It was an unbelievable scheme. Genius and efficient. Writer’s greatest
aggravation was that it wasn’t her idea.
   After a few more minutes of staring at the money gathering operation, Writer-tan turned
to leave. She was a financial genius. This was undeniable. But, as she now knew, she had much
to learn about being a swindler.



FRIDAY MINUS 8 YEARS
FRIDAY MINUS 8 YEARS

The cherry blossom trees of MR were in full bloom. This was not unnatural. The unnatural fact
was that you could find blooming cherry blossoms year ‘round in MR. Still, the cherry blossoms
in the springtime always felt special, even if they weren’t, on the grand scale.
   It was with this frame of mind that Raiders from across the districts found themselves
drawn to parks throughout the city, all with similar intentions. To picnic.
   Picnic-ing was a long and time honored tradition, even among those denizens of the Net
who had never before in their lives felt the urge. And so, it was on this fair afternoon, that an
inauspicious group coalesced at what would turn out to be a most auspicious location.
   The park wasn’t large, but neither would you call it small. The grass was already a
verdant green, and soft to the touch, which suited the group well. Corycaly set out the large
checkered blanket as Hasith attempted with limited success to rouse a fire out of the pile of
charcoal in the disused park’s outdoor grill. Off in the distance, the three young Tans played
some sort of game amongst themselves. Each had grown overnight when the site had so recently
updated itself. While Writer and Artist-tan had simply aged, MR-tan had undergone a complete
transformation. Now looking about thirteen, her hair had turned a shocking color of blue, and she
could now summon mechanized armor at will. Although those were insignificant next to the fact
that her face was now split straight down the middle between human, and mobile suite. This was
the one change she couldn’t remove. It never seemed to bother her, but Hasith wondered if it
would be permanent, or if she would grow out of it eventually.
   Still, he was happy to see the three young girls enjoying themselves. Even if their whole
party wasn’t one-hundred percent behind the excursion. A hundred or so feet away he could see
Ecchi-tan and Coryn training. Together they practiced forms. Ecchi-tan’s sword was of wood,
Coryn’s wasn’t. Hasith wondered if they actually fought seriously, who would win. He had seen
what that stick could do, and worried for the young man’s safety at times. But, at least she was
enjoying herself. That could not be said for Lewd-tan, who sat crisscross in the grass, slowly
picking apart a flower. Corycaly was reminding her that such a thing was un-ladylike, Lewd was
steadfastly ignoring her.
   A few other members kicked around a ball, and Hasith made a mental note to put in some
nets when he got a chance. It was his job to make his members happy after all, and for a brief
moment, he allowed himself to feel at peace with the current way of things. “Maybe this place is
going to work out after all.”
   Hasith would soon be questioning this sentiment. He would be wrong, of course. Things
always have a way of making themselves right in the end. It wasn’t the outcome that would catch
him unawares, but its timeline. Now was not the time to ponder that though. He would have eight
long years for that. No, now was the time to witness the series of events put in motion. A series
of events he would not see coming, or understand for a long time to come.
   Now to understand what happens next, one must realize that Lewd-tan, when she was
younger had a very short temper. Someone who might be described as an ‘apologist’ would tell
you that she was just playing up her ‘fiery redhead’ gimmick too much. Lewd herself would
likely say the same, if you didn’t know her that well. But, given enough time, and enough trust,
she would likely tell you the truth if you asked her. It wasn’t a pretty truth, but that’s not what is
important here. What’s important is that for this moment in time, Lewd-tan’s better nature did
not show through, and she simply did what felt right in the moment. You might recognize this as
being a good course of action when actively engaging in flirtatious behavior, not so much when
dealing with a volatile sibling. One is a recipe for an exciting night, for better or worse. The
other is the recipe for awkward holidays and family dinners. Definitely, for the worse.
   Artist-tan had used some of her magic to draw objects into reality. In this case, she had
opted for a selection of stuffed animals. She then directed the small army of newly created
creatures to march around as a sort of band, each mimicking instruments with their crude voices.
It was the sort of thing a young girl might do to entertain others of her age, but unbeknownst to
the young Tan, it did not sit well with older girls who thought such things to be well below them.
Especially if the girl in question never had a childhood to sympathize with. And so, the fight
began; “Can’t you keep it down over there?! Can’t a woman work on her tan in peace?!”
   The outbreak had taken Artist-tan by surprise. “But, they’re just singing an’ making
everyone happy!”
   “We’ll they aren’t making me happy!” Chided Lewd-tan. “They’re just pissing me off!”
   Not helped, was the fact that Artist-tan herself had so recently reached the age at which a
child begins to question their role in the traditional hierarchy of young vs old. It is a most
dangerous age where you often find yourself fighting battles you don’t yet know you can’t win.
“Well too bad! They’re my animals and they’re staying!”
   “Damn kid!” There was the flash of a whip, aimed at one of the tiny beasts with the body
of an octopus and the head of a bear. Lewd-tan’s aim was true, and she wasn’t anticipating Artist
doing anything to stop her. The girl had always been complacent, now would be no different.
   Except that today would be very different indeed.
   Artist-tan didn’t have any time to think about what she was doing, her body moved
without much input on her part. So, when she stepped in the way of the whip to protect the
stuffed creature, it hit her right across the face. The loud snap cause any activity in the park not
already stymied by the loud argument to ground to a total halt. Lewd-tan watched on in horror of
her own actions. A thick, red stream of blood was coming down over Artist-tan’s face. It
matched her eyes, and contrasted sharply with the monochrome of the rest of her features. But
then, it didn’t, and finally the gravity of the situation hit Lewd-tan in full. Artist-tan’s features
were shifting rapidly through the spectrum, but all the while, the blood and her eyes remained.
Past those eyes however, was the true horror. What had started off as cuddly creatures had
grown, large and terrifying. No one had seen Artist-tan makes such monsters before, and now
that she had, they didn’t stop to ponder it. The Raiders, the other Tans, and even the two
Administrators quickly evacuated the park. All except two. Artist-tan’s glare remained fixed on
Lewd-tan, and Lewd-tan found herself frozen in place. This had all gone horribly wrong, but
Lewd-tan wasn’t about to let herself be destroyed by some out of control toys. “Fine, have it
your way, but don’t run off crying after we’re done!”
   Lewd-tan leaped high as the monsters swarmed her position. They had become like a
single surging mass, all claws and teeth and tentacles. A long, spidery arm shot out at her, but
Lewd froze it at a touch, and shattered it with a follow up, physics defying roundhouse kick.
Gravity soon took hold of her again however, and she fell back to Earth just ahead of the
creatures. They broke up to surround her, and Lewd-tan engaged her whip, striking in all
directions. Bits of flesh were ripped away, limbs fell to the ground limp. But it was obvious that
Lewd-tan was fighting a losing battle. She was fighting in Artist-tan’s world, not her own, which
ceded the power advantage she would have usually enjoyed. Setting that aside even, the monsters
didn’t seem to be all that ill affected by her attacks. They didn’t seem to have much concept of
pain. Even losing a body part seemed to result in more confusion than fear. Lewd-tan figured
rightly that creating a fully cognitive creature was easier said than done.
   Drawing in a great breath, Lewd-tan forced out a scream. It was not a cry for help
however, it hard purpose. With the sound came a shockwave, however slight, but it was
something she could impart power to. And so, as the wave broke against the stuffed
monstrosities, they froze, even only on the outermost layers. It was a slim opening, but Lewd
took it. She burst through the throngs directly in front of her, clearing the mob and leaving her
with a clean line of sight to Artist-tan.
   She was still standing where she had been the whole time. A vacant look covered her
face, although the rapid changes in hue had not subsided. So, seeing this, Lewd-tan charged her
sister, clenching her fist as she ran. “Snap out of it already!”
   Artist-tan didn’t even flinch. Lewd-tan’s fist pile drove into her small face, screwing up
the flesh of her cheek and pushing the fat up over her eye. Lewd-tan stared into her sister’s red
eyes, and right at the end, she swore that her sister stared back.
   But that was the last time Lewd-tan, or anyone would see those eyes. There then came a
great outpouring of energy. Any number of colors filled the park, temporarily blinding all who
witnessed it. Slowly though, Lewd-tan regained her sight, but what she saw afterwards was not
her sister Artist-tan. Throughout the airspace of the park hung motes of colored light. They
seemed to float on the winds, shifting ever so slightly with the breeze. Some seemed simply to
wink out, others were carried off between the buildings and out of sight. But more pressing to
everyone still gathered was not the odd lights, but the figure that lay on the ground in front of
Lewd-tan. It was roughly human shaped, possessing all the usual appendages, but seemed for all
the world to be molten metal. The mass oozed out onto the grass, turning it to ash with intense
heat. But as the form spread out, it cooled, and had soon turned to black, porous stone.
   All was still, and the other Tans, Administrators, and a few adventurous Raiders closed
ranks on Lewd-tan and the rock formation. The monsters has disappeared, so for a few moments
all stood in silence, inwardly wondering to the nature of what they had just seen.
   Just as MR-tan began to say something, there was a sharp crack, which emanated
ominously from the stone figure. A short while later there was another crack, and then another.
Slowly the stone shell, which it was now obvious that it was, broke open, bit by bit. A pale hand
reached out, cautiously and with no small amount of trepidation it seemed. Then another
appeared, and together the two arms lifted the main body out of the sarcophagus. Before them
was a young woman. Long red hair draped her shoulders. Dark brown eyes staring at everything
and nothing at once. The new thing was attempting to take in the whole world for the first time,
but being able to comprehend none of it. She looked down, tugged at her clothing. Black vest,
black tie, buttoned shirt. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Finally, her eyes took hold
of something solid. Lewd-tan was still standing in front of her, mouth ajar, sometimes attempting
to speak, sometimes not. Only one word escaped her; “Artist…-tan?”
        But no, this was not Artist-tan. Artist-tan, the girl born of dual natures, had been shattered
that day. Her memories remained in the one who lay in her place, but who she was, her essence
as a being, was gone. Pub-tan was not Artist-tan. Artist-tan had disappeared, her last remnants
spirited away on a melancholy spring breeze.



Crunch time now. Saturday and Sunday await. Since I'm actively moving house this weekend, they might be a little delayed (such as today's chapter, sorry 'bout that). But they will definitely be out and done. Heart crossed.

Will review stories upon request. My latest arc: http://goo.gl/KYgsfF

Offline MahluaandMilk

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #11 on: May 13, 2017, 01:28:52 AM »
Ironically, when I start out with money, I'm actually pretty smart with it and definitely know better than to go messing around with loan sharks...but for the sake of humor, I'll accept this.

And, huh. I always imagined Pub-tan with purple hair for some reason. Maybe it changed later? Ah well, that's a pretty legit take on some of the things that GC brought up, and it does tie some things together. Let's see what tomorrow brings. I feel you on the craziness of moving out, though, man. My shoulders are still sore...
"My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others!"--Marquis de Sade
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Online Coryn

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #12 on: May 13, 2017, 09:31:16 AM »
See I always thought she had red hair? This is the problem with Pub. We have had enough physical descriptions to know what she looks like generally, but we've never had a definitive drawing of her.


And yeah, I don't expect any of our members to actually be the loan shark type. The underlying joke in the whole thing was that Writer-tan never actually manages to collect on her loans anyways.

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Offline MahluaandMilk

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #13 on: May 13, 2017, 12:33:30 PM »
Yeah. I'm not offended. It's a world of comedy. I hope to see something out by tonight or tomorrow, man. Good luck~
"My manner of thinking, so you say, cannot be approved. Do you suppose I care? A poor fool indeed is he who adopts a manner of thinking for others!"--Marquis de Sade
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Offline BobbyJoeXForgotenSB

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Re: The Daily Lives of Tans
« Reply #14 on: May 13, 2017, 01:09:48 PM »
i kinda find it off putting that all the Tans are girls