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Author Topic: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter  (Read 3913 times)

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Offline Coryn

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #45 on: April 26, 2018, 12:22:21 PM »
Admittedly I'm not usually down for the screamo stuff either, but this one's more screamo lite

https://open.spotify.com/album/6jlcbJCorkiPoM8DuKAggY?si=RDRrwXQ5Srq9-CdxRyu6rw

Main vocals are pretty smooth actually, so they balance each other out.

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

Offline yulemaestro

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #46 on: May 03, 2018, 08:20:49 PM »
*Looks at Frono suspiciously*

Bro you better not be thinking about taking a break from writing this.

Offline Santa's Little Fro Elf

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #47 on: May 03, 2018, 09:24:50 PM »
*Casually sips kool-aid while wearing sunglasses and chilling in a hammock*

Of course not! 8) I got this far, why stop now? :sure:

Truthfully my lazy cycle is in effect, but it shouldn't be too hard break out of it. It's on my mind though, so mostly I'm writing it in my head at the moment. Still gotta get those PM's out too.
Messatsu...



Offline MahluaandEggnog

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #48 on: May 11, 2018, 11:03:15 PM »
Closing thoughts: Your writing is coming out a little more fluid now. I think the use of simple sentences helps you show instead of tell. Kinda like cutting out the fight worked in your favor.

Just gonna point out: "Didn’t Coryn dropped the ‘Sken’ in his name?”--there's no need for the -ed conjugation since the sentence is a question type.

I assume that I am to be one of the ones in this lovely little pyramid scheme of yours? (It's not always super suspish to use the word scheme...) I do enjoy knowing how to not get myself killed.

Offline Coryn

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #49 on: May 12, 2018, 12:05:03 AM »
You're right. Sometimes it's just regular 'suspish'.

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

Offline Santa's Little Fro Elf

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #50 on: May 15, 2018, 02:59:36 PM »
Thanks Mahlua. Admittedly, I've always wanted to write super fancy, extremely detailed and intelligent sounding sentences. Raplh Ellison and his book "Invisible Man" was the inspiration behind that goal because the descriptive writing skills he displayed in that book really stuck with me. But naturally over time I realized that a much more simple and straight to the point kind of style was something I was much better at, and decided that it would be best to cultivate that skill tree instead.

And silly Mahlua, I already got you written down as assistant coach of the fighters division in my notes. However, I've held off on the idea as I was unsure if you were returning to the forum or not. But now that you're here we can get the ball rolling. All that's left is the paperwork. *Slams a mountain of paperwork on Mahlua's desk*

Besides, there's not much I can teach a raider who went toe to toe with a tan and lived to tell the story. Still gotta check that off on my bucket list.
Messatsu...



Offline MahluaandEggnog

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #51 on: May 15, 2018, 04:23:15 PM »
As always, assistants are left with the paperwork. :glare:

Welp, I'm looking forward to the job anyway.

Offline Santa's Little Fro Elf

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #52 on: June 12, 2018, 08:35:18 AM »
So after a couple of weeks I've finally managed to hear from all the raiders I reached out to and asked to participate in joining the fighters division. I am happy to say that the Fighters Division (And MRverse in general) will be seeing some interesting additions to its ranks. All of these raiders will make an appearance in the last chapter, so look forward to that.

I'm giving myself a two week deadline to finish this thing, with the bulk of the writing probably being worked on today.
Messatsu...



Offline MahluaandEggnog

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #53 on: June 12, 2018, 12:09:31 PM »
Go for it, man. I know not everyone is like me and can pump out eleven chapters with about or more than 1.5k words each in a month but GOOOOO.

Offline Coryn

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #54 on: June 12, 2018, 01:48:52 PM »
*waves flags* ra ra ra!

Get this wrapped up Fro! (Then use your newfound free time to catch up on CS)

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

Offline yulemaestro

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #55 on: June 12, 2018, 06:43:34 PM »
To the finish line. To the finish line Fro.

Offline Santa's Little Fro Elf

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #56 on: July 24, 2018, 04:50:53 PM »
So I finally did it man. It took a long time, but the last chapter of this story is done, and I'm sharing it with you all. I hated this chapter for a lot of different reasons, with the main reason being how unexpectedly long it turned out to be. I tried my best to cut it down to size, but ultimately came to terms to accept it for what it is. Regardless of that though, the completion of this chapter signifies that this is officially the first ever full length story project I've ever completed in my life. That to me, is a personal milestone, so regardless how I may feel about this story overall, I am still very proud of what I've accomplished.

I wanna thank everyone who read this story from the beginning, and I also want to send a special thank you to the group of raiders I contacted for their approval of being included in this chapter. Because of the length, I will be splitting this into two posts to avoid the MR character limit.

Without further ado, enjoy everyone!

Quick Edit: Forgot to add a song. Adding it now.

Fighting For Something Better Part 1

The first few weeks of the recruitment process for the newly established MR fighters division had went rather well for Fronomenal, much to his own surprise. He once considered flyers an ancient method that were no longer a viable method to garner attention for anything. However, after seeing a healthy amount of raiders show up to the gym for tryouts, he promised to never questioned their effectiveness again.

The tryouts phase was a test of skill involving a practice match with a mock spam ninja that Coryn and Fro had prepared with the use of science and hair magic. The goal was simple: Defeat the mock ninja within the allotted time of three minutes using whatever means of combat they so chose. Some passed with flying colors and others failed miserably. However, win or lose, natural born fighter or complete noob, it mattered none for the tryouts still displayed the missing variable that remained consistent with every recruit: Fundamentals.

And so, after a few weeks of developing a written training regimen based on that idea in a dark room under a lit candle, Fro officially opened up the gym, and from there the stage was set.

The first week had prove to be rather interesting for the new recruits. If they could compare it to anything, they all would probably say it was something similar to a first week of school. There were some icebreakers, a program overview, nonstop boring lectures on theory fighting, and some one on one sparring matches sprinkled in to see where the newbs ranked in combat. This all led to the eventual fourth day of training, which Fro proclaimed to be specialist day, and it didn’t take long for the trainees find out what specialist day was.

Now it would be typical to think that the gym resembled something similar to a basketball court, which it did at one point. Coryn however, had different tastes, and had Coryn bots (before the time when science division shenanigans offed them of course)  repaint the entire interior with a smooth coat of light blue that sparkled on occasion, with the only remnant of its former design being the orange colored hardwood floor.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKuqzR-iMas

The trainees were scattered about across the gym absorbed in their training, and Fro, dressed in a purple tracksuit that was the official MRFD gym uniform, stood in the middle to observe each of them. He looked at the stopwatch on his wrist and shook his head upon seeing the amount of time that already passed. “Alright punks!” he shouted. “It’s been an hour of lollygagging with no effort being put in today’s exercise. That must mean you guys must be ecstatic to spend the rest of the day cooped up in this gym, cause that’s exactly what’s gonna happen if yall don’t rev up the intensity!”

Fro blew into the whistle again, and Fortis’ shoulders twitched from the harshness of it’s hiss. While being a skeleton meant that the majority of his senses were only half as effective compared to a normal human, sound, unfortunately for Fortis, was not one of those senses.

“I’m sure it’s part of training, but it would be much more beneficial to us trainees if the coach kept the verbal interference down to a minimum.” Fortis said, his hollow voice sounding like a distant ghost. The hood of his cloak that he wore under his tracksuit covered the majority of his face, so it was hard for anyone to tell if there was actually a face under there or not.  As he talked, strange objects flew at him from a few feet ahead of him. They were all made out of hair, and each object possessed a different shape and size. Fortis had little time discern the minor details though, for his only concern was to strike them down as they flew at him.

He clutched the handle of his trusted gladius tight and swung it horizontally. Hair taking the form of cubes were felled in its wake. More hair cubes tried to sneak past where their predecessors had fallen, but they didn’t make it far, for Fortis’ glock eighteen had other plans. A few squeezes on the trigger and the hair cubes were no more than a pile of hair on the gym floor.

Fortis stepped back and eyed the remaining rows of the hairy projectiles that were hovering in front of him. He turned to the right to address Fro, who had been observing him from a few feet away. “Wouldn’t you agree with my sentiment, clone of the coach?”

Fro, or in this case, Fro’s hair clone, gave Fortis a smirk. Fro knew he couldn’t possibly monitor everyone’s training at one time, so he had hair clones do it for him. Needless to say though, despite being clones, they still retained much of his drill sergeant training style.

“Rule number one thirty one of the MR Fighters Division: Hair clones and the original are one in the same. Address them as such!”

Fortis looked down in a sort of shame. “My apologies Coach Fro, but I don’t seem to recall that rule being in the handbook…”

“Rule number eleven of the MR Fighters Division: If you don’t remember a rule from the handbook, read it again!”

“But-”

Fro clone raised a finger to silence the skeleton. “Hush! That’ll be enough out of you, homie. Besides, instead of focusing on the rules, you should pay more attention to the objects in front of you.

If Fortis had eyebrows he would’ve raised them. At the clone’s signal he turned, and before he could react he was quickly smacked in the chin by a hair cube. Forits groaned. While the smack didn’t necessarily hurt, the implications behind it that he knew would follow definitely gave him a headache.

“You know the drill, Fortis.” The hair clone said, grinning. “Take it off.”

Fortis sighed heavily. “Very well…” he said, placing his bony hands on the hood of his black cloak.

He removed the hood of his cloak and slowly struggled to doff the cloak itself from underneath his tracksuit. Once removed, he tossed it on the floor behind him, right next to a black scarf and a pair of sunglasses that he had already abandoned over the course of the specialist exercise. Fortis looked over at the clone, his flames for eyes burning a brilliant blue as he stared at him. The clone wasn’t sure if Fortis had a look of rage or determination, for his fiery eyes made it impossible to tell for sure. But one thing was guaranteed. The hair clone saw something past those flaming irises. He saw potential.

The Fro clone whistled. “You know Fortis, it’s a shame that you like to hide those cool eyes of yours.”

Fortis looked away. “I hide them along with the rest of my body because I do not want people to be afraid of me, coach.”

“Understandable, but rest assured that I myself nor your peers are afraid of a talking skeleton. So you better get used to fighting alongside us naked, cause from the looks of how your specialist training has been going so far, that’s gonna be happening a lot.”

The hair clone snapped his fingers and the hairy objects in front of Fortis jerked at the gesture. More objects began to form, and as they did so they realigned themselves horizontally in thirty rows of ten. Fortis glared at the hovering objects with a look that could pass off as determination as he gripped the handles of his weapons even tighter than before.

“Alright, I added some more objects, but the properties of the existing ones remain the same. Remember, cubes are weak against the Gladius and the Glock eighteen, hairballs are weak against your Scutum shield, and shurikens can only be sliced with the katana. I will explain the newer objects as they come, but for now focus only on the existing ones. Do you understand?”

Fortis nodded.

“Good.” the hair clone nodded as well. “Also remember that every time an object hits you, you are required to remove one of your garments, and when all of your clothes have been removed the exercise will restart and will not end until you’ve successfully destroyed all of the attacking objects without losing all of your clothes. “Do you understand this as well?”

Another nod.

“Double good. Alright Fortis, as a weapon specialist you will inevitably come across many situations where one weapon of yours will be more beneficial to use than the other. You must not only learn to master every individual weapon you wield, but when to use them as well. Then again,” the clone paused to smile. “I shouldn’t have to tell that to a guy with three hundred years of life under his belt, now should I?”

Fortis managed to muster up a smile of his own. “Of course not, coach.”

The hair clone waved his hand and the hairy projectiles propelled forward at the command. “Alright, well show me what you’re made of then!”

Fortis dropped the gladius to the floor and picked up the Scutum shield that lied beside his foot. He held the shield out in front of him and readied his guard against the incoming hairballs. The quicker he got the training over with, he thought, the quicker he got the chance to put his clothes back on.




Greentrap’s training had been going relatively smooth. Having frog like qualities definitely had its benefits.  Superhuman agility and speed, heightened senses and reaction timing. She had a lot going for her.

All these things worked out nicely for Greentrap, for her specialist exercise was simple: Run away.

The hair monster Fro assigned to chase Greentrap was a tricky one to deal with. It had no real shape, for most of its design was hair slabbed together to create a disproportionate mess. Still, its numerous amount flailing hair tendrils made dodging it a difficulty for the Frog.

After a half an hour of evading the creature’s attacks in circles, she figured a new approach was in order. She ducked under a lunging tendril and made a dash for the gym wall. She jumped and used the sticky pads in her fingers to stick to the wall, and from there she climbed all the way up to the ceiling. Now she had the space, the view, and the time to see how the creature would react. And yet as she turned her head to look down, she was met with nothing.

“Ribbit?” Greentrap said, a little confused. Was it resting, she wondered? Surely it couldn’t be. After all it’s already been an hour of nonstop cat and mouse, and she was positive that the coach wouldn’t impose a stamina limit on the thing.

She turned her head and spotted out the hair clone that was assigned to overseer her training. Her vantage point allowed to see her fellow newbies that were scattered across the gym, but her sight was solely focused on the clone.

“Hey Coach, what gives!?” Greentrap shouted at the clone. “Did it’s battery die out?”

The hair clone looked up to see Greentrap directly above him on the ceiling. He folded his arms and smiled. “Rule number ninety two of the MR Fighters Division: Figure it out!”

Greentrap rolled her eyes. “Ugh! Are you being serious?”

“Rule number ninety three of the MR Fighters Division: The coach is always serious!”

“So useless…” Greentrap muttered under her breath. She switched her attention back to the beast that was—

“Eh?”

– That was no longer there. Her head spun in all directions in an attempt to locate it, but found nothing. A feeling of awkwardness crept through the air, and Greentrap was on high alert. She  inched her way across the ceiling while keeping a lookout for the hair beast that could strike her down at any given moment. The timer on her watch was ticking down and she chanced an occasional glance at it to remind herself of the amount time she had left.

“Two more hours left…” She echoed in her head. It sounded impossible, but considering her talents, three hours worth of running away to Greentrap was just child’s play. But still, a nervous sweat still tricked down forehead. Her aggressor vanishing out of thin air wasn’t exactly a soothing thought to have in the back of her mind. Get caught and the exercise would restart. She had to stay focused.

The air changed and Greentrap felt it. She wasn’t sure where and when, but she knew the hair beast was coming. A tingling sensation seeped through her veins. A subtle feeling, but it wasn’t nervousness. It was confirmation of her suspicions. Hair tendrils sprung out from the ceiling’s surface, but Greentrap’s intuition was already two steps ahead. She dropped down from the ceiling and landed on the ground, running. More hair tendrils swooped down on her, but she skillfully bobbed and weaved in between their strikes. As she ran she noticed that the monster was still nowhere in sight, which led her to believe that it may submerged itself with the surrounding area. This proved to be true, of course, as hair tendrils were now spiraling towards Greentrap from the ceiling, the floor and the nearby gym walls.

But as she noticed this she smiled. Greentrap wasn’t worried in the slightest.

“Heh heh, nice try!”

She skidded to a stop and leaped into the air. The tendrils followed, swarming her from all angles. Things looked grim for Greentrap, yet her smile persisted. And from that smile opened her wide mouth, and from that mouth emerged her long frog like tongue. The tongue shot out and lashed out like a whip against the assaulting tendrils, smacking away every single one that lashed at her at supersonic speeds. Within seconds the tendrils subsided, and the hairy assailant resurfaced from beneath the gym floor.

Greentrap landed back on the floor with a confident grin on her face. She bent over in pose while sticking out her tongue at the hair monster. “Haha!” she cheered mockingly while making a fart noise with her mouth. “Thought you had me there, didn’t ya? Stupid hair monster!”

The monster did not react to Greentrap’s taunts. It stood idle like usual.

“Yo Greentrap,” the hair clone spoke out, approaching the statue-like creature.

Greentrap pouted. “What now? Wait let me guess, you gotta another stupid rule to tell me about.”

The clone shook his head and rested an elbow on the hair monster’s shoulder. “Nah, not really. Just some advice.”

Greentrap raised a brow. “Advice? And just what that might be?” She said as she took a step back. Of course, that was her first mistake.

The hair clone shot her a sly grin. “That you should always be mindful of your surroundings, chump.”

The words “What the hell are you even talking about” were about to leave Greentrap’s mouth, but the floor beneath her feet caved in before she the got the chance.

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTT!!!!!????”

Greentrap’s scream quickly shifted to a distant echo as she quickly slid down into the depths of who knows what beneath the gym’s surface. Everything was dark and moving too fast, and  head was spinning from the rapid descent. The feeling of cold metal scraping against her back shot right into her spine. From what she could gather, she was sliding down a metal chute that had no end in sight. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Wherever the chute was taking her, the fall was certainly not going to be a smooth one.

As luck would have it, a dim light was in sight. Then again, seeing a dim light wasn’t the most the comforting thought when she still considered the eventual landing. She clenched her teeth and braced herself for the fall. She burst through the light and after a loud thud she blacked out.

A second later she came to, eyes glossed over as she lifted up her head. Her vision was a little shaky, a bright ceiling light was obscuring her view, and massaging her temple to comfort the headache she had wasn’t helping much. She sat up on what she finally made out to be a table that she landed on. There was a white cloth over it, but it felt sturdy and rough, and possibly made of metal. Greentrap quickly found out, though, that it wasn’t just an ordinary table, as a more clear look around the strange room proved otherwise. It was small and cramped, filled with metal shelves that were littered with rows of assorted glass bottles, flask, and vials filled with bubbling liquids. Of to her right was a smaller table that had an assortment of creepy looking tools lying on it. She couldn’t see all of them, but she saw what she needed to see: A couple blades, some small incision knives, and a pair of tweezers.

Greentrap’s eyes bulged. She wasn’t in no random room underground. She was in a lab. And the thought of becoming a potential experiment clouded her proper judgment.

Suddenly she felt the presence of a rather tall shadow looming over her. She shivered. Her face was ridden with fear and a nervous sweat. She turned her head, slowly, and discovered that the looming figure was none other than—

“CORYN!?”

The cyborg scientist, dressed in his appropriate lab attire, stood over the unsuspecting frog with a rather blank look on his face. Although considering Greentrap’s point of view, it could’ve been easily mistaken for a malicious glare.

“Sup.’’ Coryn casually responded. He raised a hand and pulled tightly on the latex glove he was wearing with a loud smack.

Greentrap fainted.

Fortunately she was rescued in the form of hair tendril quickly wrapping itself around her waist. It whisked her away and pulled her right back up through the chute on the ceiling she fell through. A couple bumps along the way up later, she found herself back up on the surface, being dangled by the hair tendril from the hair monster that she had been running from this whole time. While she was happy that she was saved from becoming a dissected frog, noticing that her savior was the hair creature meant that her streak was over. That headache of hers got even worse when she realized it.

She turned her head to look at the hair clone who was still standing beside his creation. “Coach…” she slowly spoke, her words a slurred from the disorientation she was experiencing. “Wh-what happen-”

“You got cocky and forgot that this gym is littered with trap doors that lead into Coryn’s science division. I told you beforehand the locations of every single trap door in here and what happens? You freaking fall through one.” The hair clone shook his head. “Yall gotta read the rules man. Rule number forty nine of the MR Fighters Division: Always watch out for the trap doors!”

“Yeah, but why—”

“Because this used to be Coryn’s gym and he’s notorious for keeping a trap door in every place he owns.

“But was he—”

“No, he wasn’t going dissect you. He just acted like he was to give you a scare. Any more questions?”

There was a brief pause. Greentrap furled her lips. “What-”

“Rule number fourteen of the MR Fighters Division: Stop asking so many damn questions!”

The hair clone blew on his whistle and walked over to the suspended Greentrap. He pressed a button on her watch to restart the timer to zero. “Alright punk, you know the drill. From the top!”




Eukocar wished he was gifted with natural talent like his teammates.

That’s not to be taken as a complete down on himself, though. To be fair, the guy was a pretty good artist, and had a competent sense for writing as well. He had talents, sure. It’s just that none of them mattered much when it came to fighting, unfortunately.

Eukocar wasn’t a three hundred year old skeleton with mastery of a thousand different weapons, or a superhuman frog with unimaginable agility. Nope, he was just a raider with an Italian accent and a rapier for a weapon. But hey, gotta make by with what you have. That’s what the coach told him at least.

But as he barely dodged a sword that could’ve taken out his eye, he was beginning to feel what he was given just simply wasn’t enough.

“Um Coach,” The Italian raider began as he sidestepped another strike from the doppelganger the coach assigned him to fight. While it was only a hair made copy of Eukocar, it possessed an unfathomable amount of sword skill that he could never hope to achieve. “Just how am I supposed to beat this thing?”

The hair clone assigned to watch over Eukocar shook its head. “Dawg, I told you already, you gotta predict its movements.

“But how am I supposed to do that when it keeps trying to hit me!?” As he asked that, he blocked a strike from the doppleganger with his rapier and quickly circled around it.

“It’s called figuring out its patterns and adapting. It’s one of the rules y’know.”

Eukocar and his clone clashed, blades locked in a stalemate. “And how many rules are there again, coach?” he said while struggling to push the clone off of him.

“Two hundred and seventy nine.”

“Mamma mia, `e troppo!’ Eukocar shouted, his Italian speech blurting out.

The doppelganger took advantage of Eukocar’s lack of focus and pushed him back. Eukocar stumbled, but managed to keep himself from falling. The clone didn’t let up though. It dashed straight with its sword aimed for Eukocar’s chest. The everyday Italian shifted out of range in time, but wasn’t out of harms way just yet. The doppelganger closed the distance instantly with a flurry of sword thrusts that were too quick to dodge for someone of Eukocar’s ability. He  managed to block a few, but was ultimately bested in the end. A few quick stabs to the abdominal had Eukocar crashing onto the floor.

“Ow!” Eukocar said as he rubbed his chest that was stinging with pain. Luckily, Fro made sure that the doppelgangers blade wasn’t lethal, otherwise he would have some hospital bills on his hands.

The Fro clone walked up to Eukocar and place a hand on his shoulder. “So after an hour of getting your ass whooped by a clone, tell me: Have you learned anything?”

Eukocar rubbed the back of his head with a nervous smile on his face. “Uhh, that there are two hundred and seventy nine rules in the fighter’s division?”

Fro clone sighed. “You should’ve learned that on the first day of class, smartass.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, coach. I sort of fell asleep during that part.”

The Fro clone stood up with a stern look on its face. It took a breath for before speaking. “Listen Eukocar, I’m gonna be straight up with you. Out of all the trainees you’re the worst at fighting. Not only that, you’re just the weakest in general.”

“Even worse than Filia, coach?” Eukocar said with a look of disappointment.

“Are you kidding me!? It’s only been a week and Filia is already ten times a better than you! Just look at the girl!”

Eukocar looked over towards the middle of the gym where Filia and another hair clone were sparring. At a glance, she looked amazing for only having a couple days of training. Strike for strike, she held her own. Every punch and kick the clone threw she matched with ones of her own. Even her reflexes looked superb, ducking and dogging  with ease while keeping up her own offense. Eukocar looked on with a feeling of self pity nagging at him. While he was happy for Filia and her unbelievable  short progress, he himself felt as if he was way behind in the race with no chance of ever catching up to his teammates. No matter how cheery and positive Eukocar usually likes to be, the feeling of being left behind is never a good one to have.   

Eukocar lowered his head in shame. “I’m that bad, huh?”

The Fro clone noticed the depressed look on the Italian man’s face and figured a switch to a more softer approach would be in order. “Listen dawg, I’m not saying all this to belittle you. I’m telling you this because in order to improve your strengths, you must first point out your weaknesses. And you my friend, have a lot of weaknesses.”

Eukocar’s grip on the handle of his rapier loosened as the hair clone’s words sunk deep in his mind. The hair clone sighed and shook its head, realizing it hadn’t been doing a good job with the more supportive approach.

“But,” the clone continued. “Even though you suck at fighting, I gotta say you’re one hell of strategist.”

Eukcocar looked up at the clone with surprise. “Huh? What do you mean, coach?”

The clone snickered and sat down next to the Italian. “Don’t play dumb with me Eukocar. I know that brain of yours runs like clockwork. Always observing and analyzing, thinking of every what if scenario possible and their outcomes.”

Eukocar was taken aback from the clones words. “But how can you tell?”

“I can tell from the way you stare at things. When you were watching the others spar yesterday, I noticed you had this very laser focused look on your face. Your eyes sort of narrow and your expression stiffens a bit. It’s subtle, but I can tell from that look you were thinking about the situation on another level.”

Eukocar leaned back a bit in surprise. The fact that the Coach was able to notice that about him from the smallest of details was shocking to Eukocar. It was true of course. Eukocar had always been a naturally observant follow who preferred to sit back and watch rather than to actively engage. Even in class he wasn’t always eager to raise his hand to answer a pop quiz question from the coach, even if he knew the right answer (Although truthfully Greentrap and Filia were usually the ones who blurted the out answers, not leaving much chance for Eukocar to jump in even he wanted to). Eukocar always chalked this up to being partially shy, but maybe it wasn’t all shyness after all.

Still, even with the coach’s sudden praises he still didn’t give himself much credit. His voice was still stained with doubt as he started to speak. “I mean yeah, I do like to play things out in my head as if it was a recording. Rewinding and fast forwarding situations in my head, sometimes adding my own scenes of what I think would happen.” Eukocar leaned forward and grabbed his knees. Even as he spoke his face was still ridden lack of self confidence. “But… I’m not sure how that would make me a strategist, or how that correlates with becoming a better fighter in general.”

The Fro clone shook his head and smiled. “That’s because you’re not seeing things the way I see em’. How about this?” The Fro clone took his hand and motioned Eukocar to look in the direction of Filia’s training spot. “Tell me Eukocar, just from a glance, what do you think Filia’s specialist exercise is exactly?”

Eukocar froze for a second as examined the back and forth exchange of blows between the silver haired prodigy and the hair clone. His vision zeroed in on the combatants, and it didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion.

“Well, it seems like she’s just practicing the basic fighting techniques you taught her these past few days, and the clone seems to be mimicking those techniques in order show Filia how  to properly execute those techniques mid match.” Eukocar rested a finger under his chin as he took a moment to ponder more on his thoughts. “Actually, to put it another way, it’s as if she’s fighting in front of a mirror, and that mirror is reflecting all of her imperfections back at her so she can fix them as she looks at herself.”

The Fro clone nodded in approval. “Uh huh, keep going.”

“Um well, if I had to take a guess, I would say that Filia doesn’t actually have a particular specialist exercise, since her training appears to be geared towards hammering down the basics.”

“Ding, ding ding! We have a winner!”

The Fro clone stood up and offered Eukocar a hand, which he gladly accepted. “So, you mean to tell me that you can’t think like that in a real fight?”

Eukocar pulled himself up to his feet with the coach’s help. “It’s a little hard to think when you’re opponent is constantly in your face trying to kill you, coach.”

“And that’s your problem, that right there. You’re so focused on not trying to get stabbed in the chest when you can be using that time to focus on reading you’re opponents movements and figuring out their patterns.” The Fro clone threw its hands up in the air. “Hell, that’s the whole point of your specialist exercise!”

“Really? I thought it was just to beat the doppelganger? Isn’t that what you originally said?”

The Fro clone bent over to pick up Eukocar’s rapier and handed it to him. “Yeah, I did say that, but you won’t be able to do that unless you outsmart it.”

Eukocar took the rapier in his hands and stared at the blade’s reflection of himself. The coach’s words were definitely hitting him, and for a second he began to understood his point. However, his eyes still glimmered with hopelessness. The doubt was still there.

“Listen Eukocar,” the clone said as it placed its hands on the Italian’s shoulders for reassurance. “Your job is not to be a better fighter than your doppelganger, it’s to be the smarter fighter, because quite frankly that’s the only advantage you got over it. But trust me when I say this: Sometimes being smarter than your enemy is all you need to win a fight.”

The Fro clone stepped out of the way, leaving Eukocar to face his doppelganger, who had been patiently waiting to resume their fight. Hearing the coach’s words burned a new resolve in Eukocar’s heart. He knew now, just because he wasn’t gifted with a knack for combat, didn’t mean he didn’t have other gifts to make up for it. He gripped the handle of his weapon with determination and readied his fencing stance. His clone imitated his stance and shot him a mocking smirk, but it didn’t throw the Italian off his game. His eyes narrowed and his face stiffened from an intense focus. He was serious now.

The hair cloned grinned. “Go ahead, and remember: You already know what you’re capable of. Focus on what your opponent can do and adjust accordingly.”

The Italian nodded and in the next moment the doppelganger charged forward with its sword in front. It closed the distance between them in an instant, leaving Eukocar with little time to think and react. Or did it?

No, it did, for Eukocar saw its movements a mile away. Time slowed down in his mind. Every movement the clone made was sharp and clear. It would strike to the right and then go low. Following that  would be a flurry of quick thrust to finish him off. Its patterns were clear now, and Eukocar wasted no time taking advantage.

Reality kicked in now, and Eukocar parried the clone’s first strike the moment he came to. The unexpected parry sent the clone stumbling to the left. It was taken by surprise. However, it didn’t let up. It charged again, this time going low. Eukocar expected as much, and lowered his sword to meet his opponent’s blade. The swords clashed and the sound of steel banging against one another rang through the air. With newfound ease, Eukocar swung upwards, ending the brief struggle as the clone was pushed back. The doppelganger gritted its teeth, displaying visible frustration, which was surprising to see from a soulless clone. That anger shifted to a mischievous smile, however. It still had a trick up its sleeve.

Once again, it spearheaded forward and Eukocar braced himself for what he knew was coming next. The flurry of stabs came fast, and it seemed like a thousand blades were coming at him at once. Yet, fast as they came, Eukocar saw every singe strike. In real life he was weaving in and out of doppelganger’s stabs with precise speed. In his mind however, his dodges were slow and steady. His body was like water, movements flowing with ease, and with every step took he closed the gap between them. His victory was predetermined. He willed it so.       

 With a thrust of his sword, the Italian parried his fake’s final strike and knocked it’s blade to the floor. The doppelganger actually looked worried. It was defenseless now, it’s blade was too far away to risk a quick retrieval. Eukocar’s lips curled into a smile. Victory was close now.  He could taste it.

“Hai finito!” he screamed with passion. He lunged forward, sword aimed for his fake’s chest. He was sure it was over, but—

“Hey!” The clone shouted. “You’re getting too cocky, don’t lose focus!”

But the clone’s warning came too late.

“Huh?”

Had Eukocar considered the possibility of his exercise being more than just an exchange of swords, he would’ve been prepared for his doppelganger’s use of unarmed combat. The fake grabbed the base of his blade as it came thrusting forward, and used the italian’s own momentum to pull for him in for a headbutt to the nose. A loud crack was heard, and the sound of Eukocar hitting the canvas quickly followed.

“Owwwww!” he groaned loudly in agony. It was hard to tell if his nose was broken or not, but it was bleeding. A case could be made at the least.

The Fro clone shook his head in disappointment and walked up to Eukocar to offer a hand and some hair made tissue. “Rule number six of the MR Fighters Division: Always expect the unexpected.”

Eukocar took the tissue first, as his leakage was beginning to look nasty. He held it over his nose as he accepted the coach’s kind gesture and pulled himself up. “Y’know coach, I’m pretty sure that’s a life rule in general.” He scratched his head with his free hand, and shot the  hair clone a quizzical look. “So um, did I do any better?”

The hair clone folded his arms and gave Eukocar something in between an approving grin and a skeptical expression. “Eh, you did alright. You got too cocky and underestimated your opponent. Then again, it’s probably my fault for assuming that you would know swords wouldn’t be the only weapons being used.” The clone shrugged. “Anyways, once your nose stops bleeding we’ll take it from the top.”


 
« Last Edit: July 24, 2018, 05:20:05 PM by Coach Fro »
Messatsu...



Offline MahluaandEggnog

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #57 on: July 24, 2018, 05:10:15 PM »
Two quick little consistency things for the first part: When GreenTrap is first introduced, you capitalized the T in trap, but after that, you stopped doing so, and the first couple of instances of Eukocar's name are spelt as Eucokar.

Other than that, I'm looking forward to part two, which is probably being posted right now.
« Last Edit: July 24, 2018, 05:36:03 PM by MahluaandMilk »

Offline Santa's Little Fro Elf

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #58 on: July 24, 2018, 05:15:35 PM »
Fighting For Something Better Part 2

But unbeknownst to the hair clone that would have to wait. At the gym’s entrance the doors were loudly kicked open. Everyone turned to see who it was, as a pair of white sneakers squeaked into view. Eyes were quickly shot wide, for it was none other than the red-headed admin, Corycaly, who was appropriately dressed in the MRFD official gym uniform. Behind her, a guest spectre filed in, pushing a red cart that was filled with clothes that were wrapped in clear plastic.

“Bonjour eyeryone!” she cheered with a graceful wave to the raiders. “I brought you all your uniforms!”

Fronomenal blew on his whistle with an unneeded urgency. The Fro clones quickly vanished soon after. “EVERYONE! THE QUEEN BEE OF MR HAS ARRIVED! FRONT AND CENTER, NOW!”

The fighters rushed to the front at the command and lined up side by side in a single file, chests poked out and right arms raised in salute. Fro teleported in front of the pack and bowed respectfully. “My apologies, boss.” he said, suddenly sounding so formal that it felt forced. “I was so focused on properly training my students that I completely forgotten about your impending arrival.”

Greentrap rolled her eyes. “Ugh, so phony...”

Corycaly giggled with glee, somewhat charmed by Fro’s sudden gentlemanly display. “Oh silly Fro, you always act so formal around me even after I told you not to.”

“Well, a wise man once told me, if you see a beautiful woman you should treat her like the queen she is.” Fro flashed Co a smile, his pearly whites gleaming with a sparkle.

Co’s cheeks burned a cherry red. “Oh Fro, stop! You’re making me blush!”

Eukocar, who was standing next to Greentrap, leaned in close for a whisper.

“Gotta admit, the coach is pretty smooth with the ladies.”

“Yeah, pretty smooth at putting on a front.” The frog scoffed.

Fro turned at the sound of Greentrap’s voice and shot her menacing glare. The frog was already looking away when Fro turned his head, whistling quietly to herself.

Co chuckled at the sight, but she immediately looked concerned as she took another look at group of trainees. “Um Fro, I think you might be missing someone, no? Isn’t Mahlua supposed to be here as well?”

Fro stood up straight and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, she signed on as my assistant, but she got caught up with handling some freaky business for the twins over at EW. Not sure when she’ll be back, but knowing the twins it’ll probably be a minute.”

“Oh those twins, always causing trouble for people.” Co shrugged. “I guess it can’t be helped. They do seem to favor her highly, so I’m not all the way surprised. I’ll guess you’ll have to hold   on to it for her until she gets back.”   

Co made a motion with her hand and the obedient guest spectre standing behind her pushed the cart forward at the apparent command. “Fro, if you don’t mind?”

Fro nodded and grabbed a couple of the wrapped uniforms from the cart. “Of course, Co.” He turned towards the trainees. “Aye yall, come on up and grab your uniforms!”

One by one the fighters jogged over to the Coach and retrieved the uniforms that had their  names tagged on the them. As they returned to their original positions, they all seem genuinely confused, considering the fact that they were already wearing uniforms. Filia, surprisingly, was the first to speak up about it.

“Umm, mister Coach?” She said softly. “I thought ‘these’ were our uniforms?

“Yeah, those are your gym uniforms. The uniforms you all just received are your official Fighters Division uniforms for when we’re out in the field.”

Eukocar eyes blinked, a little unsure if he had heard the coach correctly. “The ‘field, coach? What field?”

“The battlefield, numbnuts. You know, for missions and that sort of thing. I told you guys on the first day that this would end up being more than just a simple training program. I got big plans for this division, and carrying out various missions is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Fro dug in his afro and pulled out four, already made hairballs. He tossed each hairball one by one in front of each trainee, and when they landed they poofed into smoke. When the smoke cleared, the hairballs revealed themselves to be custom made fitting rooms tailored for each of the trainees. The doors even had their names on them.

“Alright, go ahead and try out your new uniforms, punks. If any of you don’t like the way your uniform fits, be sure to speak up about it so Co can take em’ back and make adjustments.

The trainees headed inside of their respective fitting rooms and closed the doors behind them shut. Co poked Fro on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Frono, while they’re changing, do you mind if I speak to you about something?”

“Of course, boss. Shoot.”

“Well, firstly, how has everyone’s training been progressing so far?”

“Pretty smooth, actually. They’re all naturally talented in combat in their own unique ways. This week alone they’ve shown that they got hella potential to be some amazing fighters, probably the best batch of newbies I’ve seen in a while.”

Co tilted her head, looking slightly curious. “Hmm, and what makes them each of them so special?”

“Well, Fortis is a three hundred year old skeleton who knows his way around a couple different weapons. He’s definitely the most experienced out of everyone, and pretty much the most naturally skilled as well. Greentrap is a freaking frog for crying out loud, and her agility and speed would serve her as well as a scout . And Eukocar is probably the weakest in terms of actual combat. But, the guy is pretty smart though, and he knows the basics well enough to get by just fine. And Filia…”

Fro took a long pause as he seemed visibly at a loss for words. Co raised a questioning brow.  “And Filia, Coach?”

Fro sighed. “She’s weird man, but like in a real special, one of a kind way, y’know? This girl has never seen combat in a day in her life, and already she’s ahead of the class in unarmed combat. And she learns so fast, too! I would teach her a move and she have it down in a heartbeat. I mean sure, her form can be a little stiff at times, but still, for a girl as young as she is, she’s pretty extraordinary, boss.”

Co rested a hand under her chin, pondering to herself for a moment. “And was that  the only weird thing you’ve noticed about her so far?”

“Other than the fact she doesn’t seem to know much about her past, nah, not really.”

“I see...” she said, in a rather concerned tone of a voice. Her face darkened a little as she turned away from Fro.

“Hey Co, mind if I ask you a question?”

Co’s face brightened up again. “Sure Fro. What do you what to know?”

Fro folded his arms and looked down, his face darkening with concern as he did so. “Well, Hasith personally asked me to keep a close eye on Filia, and report to him if I noticed anything ‘strange’ about her. I didn’t think much of it at first, but I’m starting to get this weird feeling that Hasith doesn’t trust her, and I, for the life of me, can’t figure out why.” Fro turned around and stared at the fitting room that had Filia’s name on it. “I mean, the girl looks pretty innocent if you ask me. I mean I could be overthinking it, but Hasith seems so uptight about her. What do think, boss? I’m sure he has spoken to you about it. Is there anything you guys know about her that I need to know?”

Co bit her bottom lip, looking a bit flustered thanks to Fro’s sudden directness. She spoke, trying her best to carefully place her words. “Well Fro, it’s not a matter of who Filia is, but where she might come from...”

Before Fro could press on for further answers, the fitting room doors opened, and from them emerged the trainees in their brand new combat uniforms. They were all dressed in sleeveless black hoodies, dark green combat trousers, and a pair of black combat boots to finish off the base look. As for accessories, they wore black, fingerless combat gloves (with the exception of Fortis, who chose to wear his own full length gloves instead), and purple armbands with the letters “MRFD” emblazoned in gold on them. On the back of their hoodies was a golden fist clutching the utensil that represented their occupation in the city. For Fortis and Greentrap, those utensils were pencils, and for Eukocar and Filia, their fist were clutching  paintbrushes.

“Mon dieu! You all look so wonderful!” Corycaly cheered, jumping for joy.

“Yeah, they look pretty sharp in those bad boys.” Fro said in agreement. “You did an amazing job on the uniforms, boss!”

“Oh Fro, you should give yourself some credit too! You did come up with the original design after all.”

“Yeah… I guess I do got a good sense of fashion.”

“Thanks for making us these uniforms, miss Co!” Eukocar said with a respectful bow. The others joined in and gave their their thanks as well. Corycaly clapped her hands together and smiled, pleased with her own work.

“You’re welcome everyone! I’m glad that you all are pleased with the design!” She turned to face Fro. “And with that, I think my job here is done, Frono.

“Yeah, thanks again for all your help, Co. I really appreciate it!”

“Oh no Fro, I should be thanking you. After all, what you’re doing is really beneficial for everyone here at MR. I’m sure you will do a good job of being a coach for the newbies, which is why I’m personally wishing you good luck and hope you accomplish big things with the Fighters Division in the future.”

Co flashed Fro a smile before making her way towards the entrance. Before leaving, she turned around and waved goodbye to the members of the Fighters Division. “Au revoir everyone! And Fro, don’t forget about our weekly workouts, okay?”

“One on one workouts on Sundays, right? Trust me, I won’t!”

And with that, Co, along with her personal guest spectre exited the gym, slamming the doors shut behind them. Fro turned around back to the trainees, who were waiting patiently for his next directive.

“Will we be resuming the exercises, Coach Fro?” The skeleton spoke out.

“Nah Fortis. Actually, I think this might be a good time to get some things off my chest. I’ve been wanting to share some things with you guys that I feel you all deserve to know.”

“Got a big speech prepared, ribbit?”

“Yeah something like that, frog face.”

Eukocar jumped in. “Wait Coach, where’s your uniform?

“Im wearing it already actually.” Fro responded as unzipped his tracksuit, revealing his own MRFD uniform that he had been hiding underneath. 

“But what about Miss Mahlua, Coach?” Filia spoke out with concern. “Wouldn’t it feel weird to have a moment like this without everyone being present?”

“Eh… Yeah, but it can’t be helped. She’s really got her hands tied with that ecchi business the twins dragged her into. Trust me, I wish she was here too, but she isn’t, so unfortunately the show must—“

And just as he was about to finish his statement, a ghostly ball of blue appeared before the group. It circled around the area for a moment before finally it decided to take it’s place next to Fro. Everyone seemed perplexed as to what the strange spirit ball was exactly, but they wouldn’t have to guess for long. The hovering ball began to morph and take a human like shape. Arms and legs slowly stretched out, with the body taking on a feminine proportion. Albeit blue and still rather ghostly looking, familiar facial features could be discerned, with the ghostly spirit revealing itself to be none other MR’s resident witch, Mahlua.

The witch in her astral state greeted everyone with a smile and wave. “Hey yall, sorry I’m late!”

The trainees, somewhat surprised by their Assistant Coach’s entrance, spoke among themselves.

“Woah,” The Italian said with awe. “Did Mahlua turn herself into a ghost or something?”

“Who knows, ribbit. She is a witch after all. Never really understood all that whackity magicky stuff.”

“It’s called astral projection.” Fortis said speaking up. “It’s an out of body experience where the user can travel through the universe spiritually via an ‘astral body.’ It’s a common practice used by witches and the general lot of those who dabble in the magical arts. Throughout my lifetime I’ve met plenty of magic users who often used this technique; I even tried employing it myself, though I never had much success with it.”

“Really?” Filia said, turning towards Fortis with a questioning expression. “You don’t seem like much of a magic user, Mister Fortis.”

“Seeing how my last attempt with casting a magic spell resulted in me ending up in my current state, I would say that I’m not much of one myself.”

 As the newbies continued to speak among themselves, the coaches of the Fighters Division held their own conversation.

“You sure do know how to make an entrance.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. This whole reset Ecchiworld thing has really been a crazy ride to say the least.”

“Crazy as in…?”

“You ever smashed a school girl’s brains in an extremely meta boss fight?”

“Say no more, sis...”

“And like, live among an entire village of furries where one of em’ is like really hot, and you would totally have a thing with them if they weren’t so shady and untrustworthy looking, and—“

 “I said, NO MORE, sis...”

Fro cleared his throat and blew on his whistle to restore some order in the gym. When everyone ceased their private conversations and gave him their upmost attention, he spoke.

“Alright, so now that Lua is here, I guess now is a good time to say what I have to say. Be warned, I got a lot to get off my chest, and I won’t be repeating myself, so yall better be listening. Understood?”

Everyone nodded. Fro took a moment to breathe deeply before speaking. Whatever he was about to say, it definitely seemed like a burden to share.

“If there’s one thing you all need to know about me is that I’m gonna be honest with you guys at all times. So, with that said, I wanna share with you guys the honest truth of why I started this division. As much I love and appreciate MR for everything it has done for me, and as much I want to give back and help the same people that helped me, the establishment of the Fighters Division isn’t just some selfless act of good will on my part. The reason behind the creation of this division is to benefit me in the most selfish ways possible, for at my core, I’ve grown to be an extremely selfish person.”

Fro’s odd choice of words got him some questioning looks, but he expected as much. He continued.

“But in order for you all to understand my selfishness and why I would do something in this context with selfish intentions, you need to know a lil’ something about my past.” Fro sighed, but there was heaviness to it. He closed his eyes for a second to collect himself, and continued. “A long time ago in— I guess you could say in a place not from this world— I was among a group of four poor orphans who lived in a town that didn’t make living any easier on us poor folk. To be blunt, the poor was oppressed and treated like animals by the government and its authorities, and our hatred for how the way things worked brought the four of us together. We all felt we could change our world by taking things into our own hands, so we dubbed ourselves ‘The Believers’, and often fought against our oppressors, with our ultimate goal being to one day escape from that cruel town.” Fro began to chuckle a bit. “Funny enough, when the group found out about my strange afro powers, they felt that I alone possessed the power to save the entire world. So, they gave me the name, Froseiah, and appointed me as leader. Though, as time would pass, I found out that I wasn’t really suited for the leadership position.”

“Many years passed of us growing up and going through a lot of sh!t, and eventually we were presented with the opportunity to finally escape. But...” Fro looked down for a moment and shook his head. “...because I wasn’t much of a good leader, I made a decision that not only costed us our chance, but almost our livelihoods as well. The team was pissed at me for a while, but eventually we smoothed things over and everything was all good… or so I thought.” Fro balled up his fist. “To the others’ surprise and my own, the only girl of our group back stabbed us out of nowhere, and killed us off.”

Eyes across the room lit up with surprise. “Killed, coach?” Eukocar uttered with disbelief.

“Yeah, you heard me right. I was killed by… her. By my friend, Mary. I’m not sure why or where she ended up afterwards, but she killed the rest of us. I thought it was all over for me, but somehow I got lucky and ended up alive again in this strange world that I honestly can’t tell you guys much about. It was a real messed up place, and I saw a lot of messed up stuff. Murder was everywhere, people were twisted and jaded, and I saw a lot of people die, some died by my own hands. I didn’t want to kill anyone, but the evil nature of that place forced my hand, and I ended experiencing a very dark time in my life, a time I'm not all too proud of.”

“But, thanks to some unlikely help, I managed to escape that place and made my way to the Net, and eventually, MR. Things started to look better for me, and for once in my life, I ended up in a better place. Unfortunately, my past still haunted me, and the agonizing possibility of Mary existing somewhere in this world often drove me to search for her. Needless to say, my search for Mary drove me insane, and because of my prior experiences I sort of became this very aloof and distant loner, and if I hadn’t found MR I most likely would’ve stayed that way.”

Fro paused for a moment to catch his breath and to gauge the room. Everyone was visibly taken aback and absorbed in his speech. He wished he didn’t sound so awkward while talking, but this was important to him, and still had more to say. He pushed himself on to speak.

“Anyways. I say all this to say that because of everything I’ve been through, I have a really hard time trusting people and working with them nowadays. Not because I think every person I meet is gonna betray me at some point, but because for some reason I feel as though I’m cursed in a way, and that this curse of mine affects people I’m connected to in bad ways. Corny I know, but that’s just how I feel.”

Fro crossed his arms and glared at his trainees. “With all that being said, starting up a division like this is a big step for me personally, and its my way of getting myself to place trust in others again. This is why I said my decision was selfish, because I’m doing this to help myself in a way, while helping others at the same time. I would’ve told you guys this on the first day, but I felt a speech like this would’ve been a little to much to take in at the time. But now that you guys know my intentions and how selfish they are, if any of you have a problem with them or me in general, feel free to turn in your uniforms and leave. I won’t blame you if you do.”

The trainees looked at one another after Fro asked his question. There were some looks of concern and confusion at first, but eventually they reached a non-verbal consensus with an affirmative collective of nods. Fro turned towards Mahlua to see if she was on board, and she confirmed her allegiance with a nod of her own. Fro breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good. Glad to know you guys are on board. Now, I know I said a lot by now, but there’s still one thing I need to go over with you guys and that’s the rules of this division.”

“I’ve been waiting on this.” Greentrap mumbled under her breath.

“The MR Fighters Division is more than just a training program to me. It’s a family, a family filled with unique individuals who eventually learn to love and trust one another. But with every family comes with it a house, and every house has rules that the family must follow in order to maintain structure, which is why I came up with so many. I know you guys believe a lot of my rules are bs, and to be honest, a lot of them are. But, if there are any rules I want you guys to have engraved in your brains, it’s the first three, and in case you forgot or didn’t read the rule book, let me remind you.”

Fro raised a finger for each rule he recited. “Rule number one of the MR Fighters Division: Fighters fight together as a unit at all times. No exceptions! Rule number two: Never abandon a teammate under any circumstance. And Rule number three: Never betray a fellow teammate. Failure to comply with these three rules will result in not only a permanent ban, but a personal ass whopping by yours truly. Do you all understand!?”

“COACH, YES COACH!” The trainees shouted in unison.

“Whew… good.” Fro said quietly to himself. His throat had nearly went dry from all that talking he did. He felt the lightness of a hand caressing his shoulder, and turned to see Mahlua smiling proudly at him.

“How do you feel?”

“Out of breath, but… good. Never thought opening up to people would feel so liberating.”

Fro felt the heaviness of his heart slowly relieving itself of the burdens he placed on himself for all these years. Every aching pain and mental demon had been exorcised from his soul, and the brightness of his future were reflected in the smiles of the raiders he surrounded himself with. It was a wonderful feeling, and with more good things on the horizon, he promised himself to never lose sight of it.

“All right!” He shouted, clapping his hands together. Have you punks been practicing the official MR Fighters Division team chant!?’’

There were some confused looks and shrugs across the room, but ultimately everyone nodded.

“Then what the hell are yall just standing around for!?” Everyone, assume your positions and let’s get this chant going!”

All the raiders rushed together to form a circle. They all stuck out their fist and pounded collectively. With Fro leading the charge, they chanted:

“WHO ARE WE!?”

“WE ARE THE MR FIGHTERS DIVISION!”

“AND WHAT DO WE DO!?”

“ALL WE DO IS FIGHT!”

“WE DO WHAT!?”

“WE FIGHT!”

“AND WHAT DO WE FIGHT FOR!?”

“OUR LOVE FOR MANGA!”

“AND WHAT!?”

“OUR LOVE FOR ANIME!”

“AND WHAT!?”

“AND EVERYTHING WE HOLD DEAR TO US!”

“AND WHAT DO WE HOLD DEAR TO US THE MOST!?”

“MANGARAIDERS!”

“AND WHY!?”

“BECAUSE WE ARE RAIDER!”

“AND RAIDER!?”

They all raised their fist proudly in the air. Even though each of them came from different backgrounds, there was a sense of understanding between one another. Their fist were unified, and Fro, having gone through so much to eventually to come a point like this in his life, couldn’t have felt more satisfied.

“IS LEGION!”


---

In a dark lab sat a young woman with a hand rested on her chin and a sucker in her mouth. She yawned as sat in a rolling chair in front an assortment of giant computer monitors that displayed various codes in green and other forms of data. The darkness of the room made it nearly impossible to see all of her clearly, but she did have some noticeable features that stood out. Her long hair was a mixture of blonde and black streaks, and she wore a lab coat and glasses that could pass her off as a scientist of some sort. Although, considering how young she looked, the possibility of her being a scientist would be a surprising one.

As she stared at the monitors looking unamused, the one in the middle flashed with a beeping red light. Her eyes lit up and her thin lips curled into a smirk. With a number of strokes entered in the keyboard in front of her, the screen transitioned to a clear image of a group of figures performing some sort of chant. Her smirk seemed almost evil when she saw who it was. It was the raiders of the Fighters Division, and the particular focus of the group highlighted on the screen was none other than Fronomenal.

“Mangaraiders huh?” She uttered coldly as she popped the sucker out of her mouth. “So that’s where you’ve been hiding.

She brought up a digital terminal with a wave of a hand and tapped on the holographic screen a few times. Seconds later the screen shifted to an image of a woman with short black hair and glasses, who looked liked a scientist as well. The woman on the screen blinked as she pushed up her glasses.

“Yes Professor?” The woman asked.

“Good news, Melissa, I found Froseiah.”

“Really?” She replied, visibly ecstatic and confused all at once. “But how did you—“

“I have reason to believe he came across that dummy link I’ve left on the Net. I originally left that link to track Mary’s location, but finding at least one of my Father’s creations for now is certainly good enough for me.”

“Well, this is certainly a long time coming, mam, and very good news indeed. I assume we’ll continue to monitor his movements for now?”

“Yes, but I also have something else in mind...”

“Professor?”

The woman know as Professor crossed her legs and took a few licks of her sucker before speaking again. “Pull up the definition files for ‘Project ‘Fronolisa’ and run her executable.”

Melissa immediately took on a look of concern. “B-but mam, it’s still far too early! She’s still in her developing stages and all of her values have still not been properly set. If we release her now then—“

Melissa was interrupted by the sound of the professor crunching her sucker to pieces in her mouth. “Silly Melissa, do you remember who Professor Kronus entrusted to lead Mugen Corp after his passing?”

Melissa looked away in shame. “You mam, his daughter, Aster...”

“And do I need to remind you what happens to those who dare to question his daughter’s leadership?”

“No mam, you don’t.”

Aster smiled. “Good. Is anything more you wish to say?”

Melissa shook her head and bowed. “No mam. My apologies.”

“Very well then. You are dismissed.”

After a nod from Melissa  the terminal vanished, leaving the young Aster to stare back at her prized Fronomenal who was still being shown on the big screen. She pulled out another sucker from her lab coat pocket and proceeded to pop it in her mouth. She moaned with delight as she gazed at the screen. She giggled.

“I believe it’s time to take back what’s rightfully mine...”



-End 

   

   





« Last Edit: July 24, 2018, 05:21:21 PM by Coach Fro »
Messatsu...



Offline Coryn

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Re: MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« Reply #59 on: July 24, 2018, 05:37:24 PM »
How dare you post this monster while I'm at work. I want to read it now!  :sadbye:

Must...hold back...

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