Welcome to the sphereverse - Snippets, Bunny Plots and other marvelous things.

[Povovanon]

Welcome to the sphereverse, the place where Big Boss, surrounded by Latin** secretaries dressed in red tailleur, creates universes for the lulz.

Yes, I could have used something simpler, like hey, this is the place where I post snippets, bunny plots, and tons, but really, tons of stupid ideas that should have been hidden between my brain cells and the cholesterol plaques... But no, I can't do it!

Almost all the snippets could be resumed in a simple phrase:

"Holy crap Foless and Karla this is worse than the time..."

So wait for incredible stories like the time Mail was a bounty hunter in a desertpunk world, or Ingrid owning a cellphone***.
Why these snippets here in the pure, innocent, virginal section of QQ and not in the degenerate one with their disgusting sexual things like handholding and post-marriage sex in missionary position aimed only to procreating?
Because, during the years, I was aware not only to be a terrible writer with stupid (and offensive to several fandoms) ideas, but also unable to write smut things without giggling like a schoolgirl.
Ah, you would have hinted that my "comedy" idea is a combination of the worst episodes of Family Guy and the oldest, moldy, yet still "danke" memes.

Come on, let's introduce the spheres, so you can glimpse the incredible worlds I am about to narrate.

Sphere FG48721 – A cyberpunk setting with post-apocalyptic and desertpunk shades. The Katastrophe of eighty years ago changed the face of this world. Now, humanity lives inside vast domes that shelter millions, surrounded by a desert and a toxic orange ocean from which giant tentacles suddenly emerge.

Sphere FG29148 – A fantasy-steamhamspunk setting. In a stereotypical fantasy world, so stereotypical that I could use "native isekai with brain damage" as name, a new continent appeared after a great catastrophe: an Age of Colonization, where several powers race to claim this mysterious land. Yes, probably the most stereotypical one with Elves, Dwarves, Halflings (or worse, Kenders) and other strange folks but Big Boss is always one step ahead of us all, so their names are different.

Sphere SOG3562 – A space opera full of action, adventure, and dogfights. Probably my favorite. Someday, I'll write a real novel set in this one. A real novel in my native language. A man can dream though. A man can dream...

Sphere HMR3890 – A world consisting only of the immense city of Dis, encircled by cyclopean walls, and at its center rises a living white column connected to the heavens. A huge cruel sun and a moon shaped like a face with only an eye shine on the pale sky. A city surrounded by an endless and merciless desert. A city where the forgotten wander…

Sphere JOK1997 – The beach at the very edge of the Sphereverse, where everything happens…

EDIT 07 November - A Freakin' Sneed Moment. It isn't a sphere, it has no sense... It only a delusion or something like that created by thinking something stupid. I think, right. Maybe. Well...

Small notes: FG48721; FG29148; SOG3562 have popped out on Anon-kun; JOK1997 on the AISlop thread here.

Spoiler: You are fully bonded and licensed by the franchise owners, aren't you Mr Povovanon?

**Mexico, Cuba, Costa Rica, Santo Domingo, Latina, Sabaudia, San Felice Circeo
***As usual Lilith is always one step ahead me, so... well, the AMSR where Ingrid is a nurse at the Sacred Heart hospital or something like that...

 

[Povovanon]

Previously posted in the "Writers Write About Writing (Rants and Discussions)" thread

Robbed franchises:
- Rance; Lightning Warrior Raidy; Toushin Toshi 2***, Azumanga Daioh, Taimaninverse; Cyberpunk 2020/RED (Well, I can't use CP anymore, because people quickly thinks something else)

---

"Headbangers in leather. Sparks flyin' in the dead of the night"

Behind the notes from an ancient car radio, a red sedan was driving under a pale sun through a scorched desert, spaced out only by the metallic skeletons of century-old billboards or the sleek, dark-green cacti sprouting between the rocks.

The car with its red chassis half-eaten by rust and the regrettable consequences of years of acid rain moved like a dark spot across the desert. A relic from before the Katastrophe, nearly ninety years old but patched together with a roaring eight-year-old CHOOH2 engine, a wheezing muffler, second-hand shock absorbers and drive belt salvaged from an unluckier car, reinforced bumpers, and even new tires, appropriate for the deteriorated roads outside the Domes, and stolen from who-knows-where.

The only original parts of this sedan were its chassis, reinforced and pummeled countless times through the decades, and its interior with the worn seats and dashboard, and, most importantly, the car radio that still kept roaring like the days before the Katastrophe.

"It all comes together. When they shoot out the lights. Fifty thousand watts of power. And it's pushin' overload."

On top of the worn black leather steering-wheel cover, a pair of fingers tapped in rhythm with the music. Their manicured nails shone in the pale sunlight thanks to the clear polish, a small touch of brightness against ivory skin. That same skin wasn't just wrapped in a grey sleeveless T-shirt and reinforced blue jeans, but also adorned with a golden cuff on the right wrist, a choker, and a pair of earrings.

"The beast is ready to devour. All the metal they can hold"

The luscious lips moved along with the car radio notes, but no sound came out.

Sometimes the silent performance was interrupted by a sudden jolt as the car hit a hole or bump on the road. The golden heart-shaped earrings trembled, and the larger, heart-shaped pendant on the choker swung wildly. The driver's lips twisted in a wince; her light-blue eyes narrowed, flashing irritation across her beautiful, blonde-framed face.

She knew the pre-Katastrophe highways that once connected the old metropolises had been reduced to this patchwork of asphalt and rust, riddled with holes and sudden bulges. She cursed herself for not avoiding them before she went back to silently mouthing the lyrics.

"Reachin' overload… Start to explo—"

"How long until we arrive?"

The bored words echoed inside the car, though not from the blonde woman at the wheel; they came from another of the three women inside, the one sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

She dressed similarly to the blonde driver, sharing the same rough yet flashy style. Her jewelry, however, was simpler: no cuff on her wrists, plain golden (always in color, not metal) dangling earrings, and a choker adorned with a cheap, gaudy red gem.

But jewelry wasn't the only difference between them. Though they shared the same body shape and short haircut, the passenger's hair was dyed purple, with tufts of the original black peeking through, and a long bang covering her dark-blue right eye with a rare violet hue. Her skin, paler than the driver's ivory tone, hovered somewhere between ghostly and milky, a strange mix that lent her a mysterious, alluring air.

"You asked the same question half an hour ago," the blonde woman replied, glancing sideways. "So, Milli, if you can do simple math, that means we'll reach Magmor Dome in two hours."

A brief snort full of frustration slipped from Milli's thin lips as she kept staring out the window.

"Tight pants and lipstick She's riding on razor's edge She holds her own against the boys Yeah, cuts through the crowd just like a wedge"

"We haven't met anyone at all."

This interruption was faint, almost timid or perhaps just seeking reassurance. The youngest of the quartet, seated on the left side of the backseat, had finally broken the silence layered over the car radio's thundering notes.

Likely half a decade younger than the others, she wore her short brown hair in a simple cut that gave her an air of youth and maybe a touch of corrupted innocence. She leaned forward, resting a hand on the passenger seat, her large brown eyes flicking between the two women in front.

"Thank the Heavens," the blonde said with a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm dying to meet a bunch of outsiders or some bike gang," Milli quipped, her sarcasm cutting through the boredom that had colored her earlier tone.

The younger woman fell in a sort of guilty silence, sitting back with her hands on her knees, occasionally peeking out the window at the vast desert stretching endlessly around them.

"Ooh, can you feel the static? So many contacts being made,"

"Oh, right," the blonde woman said suddenly, raising her voice over the music as her blue eyes flicked from the road to the rearview mirror, catching sight of the younger woman in her purple sleeveless T-shirt. "This is your first time outside a Dome, right?"

"Yes," she replied, glancing left and then behind her. "Still, I didn't expect no one after four hours of travel." She leaned forward again. "I thought we'd at least see a caravan… or an agri-family pack."

"These aren't the months for family transhumance. And for trucks. Well… Only small corporations still use them instead of MagLevs," the blonde explained.

"Driving a big rig," Milli added, finally breaking her long silence and glancing at the brown-haired girl through the rearview mirror, "is like painting a big target on it. You only use one when you can't pay, or better you can't use a MagLev."

The young woman nodded and slowly sat back. Her movements were calmer now, as if their words had reassured her.

"Time to see new pastures, rookie," the blonde said with another chuckle.

"Speaking of new pastures, Serena," Milli said, turning to the driver, "I hope you have some contacts in Magmor Dome."

"Nope."

"Oh, nice. We're going in blind. Perfect."

Her visible purple eye narrowed, her lips curling into an annoyed grimace that mixed disappointment and sarcasm.

"I just hope we find a hotel with a shower or a bath with real water. I need it," another voice said suddenly.

The fourth woman had finally spoken, revealing her desires about the destination of this travel through the desert. Taller and bustier than the others, with long red hair cascading like a lion's mane, she exuded a dominant, overwhelming presence. Her rusty eyes stared outside; her rosy face bore no jewelry, unlike Milli and Serena, only an orange bandana across her forehead, set with a black obsidian gem with a golden incision on it.

Milli jolted back, narrowing her one visible eye toward the redhead but holding her tongue, letting the other woman feel the roaring aura of her glare. The redhead turned, noticed, and smirked.

"Raidy," Milli grinned tightly, "did you forget we're broke?"

"No," Raidy said flatly, her rusty eyes narrowing as her expression tightened. "But I haven't forgotten how you lost all the money."

"We lost all the money," Milli corrected, her grin tilting sideways. "We."

"I have 250 koronae," the brown-haired girl said quietly, her eyes darting between Raidy's iron glare and Milli's sharp, violet one. Her trembling lips and flickering pupils betrayed her anxiety as if she'd witnessed this kind of tension and its violent consequences more than once before.

"And that," Serena chuckled, glancing in the mirror at the trio, "is why we love you, Kaorin. That money will help us start over in Magmor Dome."

The standoff between Milli and Raidy, framed by Kaorin's worried eyes and Serena's darting blue gaze, lasted almost a full minute before both women turned back to their windows, exhaling sharp, synchronized snorts. Kaorin let out a long breath of relief.

"We've got up-front fanatics Tearing down the barricade To reach the stage Can you feel the r—"

"Dammit!" Milli broke the silence again, venting her frustration not only with the word itself but with a sharp slap on her left knee. "We had made the turn! We had! And now we're heading straight to Magmor Dome. Why do the Heavens hate us? Why?" She groaned.

"Because we robbed Oboro," Kaorin replied with a weary sigh and narrowed eyes; the expression of someone who knows exactly when to say 'I told you so.' and maybe dance on it.

"She was an evil woman, Kaorin," Raidy said, turning toward her and flashing a determined gaze.

Kaorin's big brown eyes narrowed into slits of cringing disbelief before she spoke in a small, trembling voice. "If she was an evil woman, then why didn't we help the Jastown Dome Police Forces arrest her and collect the bounty? Why did we just rob her of her money and her synthetic drugs?" Her eyes flicked from the busty redhead to the two women in front, and one last word escaped her lips, heavy with meaning. "Why?"

"Because it was easier, Kaorin," Milli snorted, gesturing lazily with her left hand. "In this business, the bounty-hunting business, sometimes you've got to make a step-by-step plan."

"Yeah," Raidy added, crossing her arms beneath her busty chest and nodding twice. "First, you rob the evil woman to weaken her, and then you capture her and deliver justice on her."

Kaorin's right eyebrow twitched, along with her lips. She pointed at herself with both index fingers. "Wait… and the part where I got captured by Oboro's men… What part was that supposed to be?" Her voice trembled, as if even asking the question was a weight too heavy for her small shoulders.

"The part that let us sneak into Oboro's headquarters," Milli said matter-of-factly.

"I WAS GANGRAPED BY FOUR MEN WHILE YOU WERE ROBBING HER!" Kaorin shrieked, slamming her hands on the front seats, gripping so hard the old fabric almost tore. Her head swelled to twice its normal size, her tongue curling and flicking with a serpentine tip at the three women around her.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SCREAMING FOR?" Milli asked calmly, turning toward her. Her head inflated too, matching Kaorin's, creating a slapstick confrontation between the two.

"We saved you," Raidy said evenly, still with her arms crossed but nodding once with each word.

"Yeah, saved you," Milli echoed, snorting as her own tongue joined in, hissing and acquiring the well-known serpentine tip.

"We'd never let anything bad happen to you, rookie," Serena chuckled from the driver's seat, her eyes never leaving the road. "Well, except the whole gangrape thing. But that happened to all of us. So hey, you learned something new and endured your soul."

"Something new?" Kaorin repeated weakly, her head shrinking back to normal size between blinks. She didn't even flinch when Milli's hand landed on her short brown hair, ruffling it like she was a kid.

"Serena's right, little rookie. We'd never let anything bad happen to our favorite rookie!" Milli laughed, just before poor Kaorin was suddenly snatched from her grasp, pulled into Raidy's arms like a giant plush toy or a used sex doll.

"Yes, you'll become not only a great bounty hunter," Raidy declared in a firm, almost motherly tone with a creepy undertone, "but also a heroine of justice like us three." She hugged Kaorin tighter, nearly smothering her against her busty chest.

When Kaorin finally wriggled free from the smothering embrace, she gasped for breath, her wide eyes darting between the three women smiling at her: sincere, maternal… and terrifying.

Why did I ever want to become a bounty hunter?

She thought, recalling everything she'd endured with them over the past six months.

---

***However, this Serena isn't from the old 90's game, but the pure remake for NDS so ivory skin and more busty.

 

[Povovanon]

Previously posted on Fiction.live as quest suggestion.

Robbed franchises (open the spoiler after having read the snippet!):
Sakura Wars, Excel Saga, Junji Ito's Tomie

---

[Takonosu II — Princedom of Kiku — Friday, 19 Descartes 3280. 22:26 ETW-TC]

The planet Takanosu II is one of three worlds in the system of the same name: one of the inner planetary systems of the Princedom of Kiku, barely connected to the core worlds. In fact, the only starships that ever sail through these planets and their star are the massive V1-class transports, hauling the harvests of gene-engineered fields and the precious minerals drawn from the vast, hungry mines scattered across the three planets. Even piracy is rare here; not even the Zeros of the Princedom of Kiku or the Imperial Gendarmerie bother to patrol this planetary system anymore, lulled by its tranquillity or perhaps by sheer boredom.

Yet, on this quiet and forgotten Takanosu II, a small mansion had become the center of a battle between one of the Empire's most secret military units and one of the cruel, heretical alien races that threaten the peace of the Empire and the glory of the Twin God-Emperors.

The tall trees, an evergreen mix between an Earth-that-Was alder and the urani tentaculatus populus, concealed the mansion hidden it from the daily bustle of the agri-domes scattered across the plains and their endless mechanized plantations. Built in the Earth-that-Was architectural style, it stood disconnected from both the electrical and data grids of the colony, or perhaps it had never been connected at all, not even when it was built, maybe long before the colony's foundation millennia ago. Covered by those evergreen, silent sentinels, the mansion had lain abandoned for years, centuries or millennia.

Now, branches and roots were reclaiming it: wrapping around iron gratings, marble steps, and crumbling walls; breaking doors and windows, creeping inside, and spreading a new brown-green layer across the interior. Even the animals of the region, always monitored by agri-corporation scientists through pheromone control or old-fashioned hunts, seemed to avoid the mansion out of respect, or perhaps out of some instinctive fear of what slept within.

But for the first time in many centuries the forgotten mansion heard footsteps again… and something else: a sharp, metallic screech, full of pain and death.

The gleam of an ancient sword, one of the kind once wielded by the ancestors who left Earth-that-Was aboard Ark-Ship 23 and founded the Princedom of Kiku, flashed down, splitting the overgrown skull of a small yellowish creature with a squashy spiral-eared head, dressed in something like a pink cloth diaper.

As black alien blood splattered the walls, the blade was yanked free from the hard skull bone and the splashy purple innards beneath. The creature collapsed to the floor, its wrinkled face frozen in a grotesque and wrinkled scream.

The wielder, a young woman with long black hair tied in a ponytail by a red ribbon, flicked her sword to clear it of blood. Dressed in a skintight pink-and-white bodysuit, she swept her expressive brown eyes around the room, surveying a dozen corpses of the same creatures, each with the same screaming grin, the same grotesque wrinkles and thick black brows that appeared only after death. At the sound of approaching footsteps, she turned toward the archway as two figures stepped out of the darkness.

"I hate these things. Truly disgusting," said one of the newcomers as she entered the red-lit room. Dressed in a tight purple bodysuit, this woman with chin-length brown hair and a refined hair circlet carried a long-reinforced polearm with a single-edged blade, still dripping with black blood. An heavy, brutal weapon that contrasted sharply with her elegance.

Behind her came the third figure, shorter than the other two: a young woman in a green-and-black bodysuit that emphasized her petite, blossoming figure. A half-proud, half-impish smile played across her freckled face. She wore a pair of small, Earth-that-Was glasses: real glass with no software or embedded tech, so rare they might be worth a fortune, perhaps even the price of a small moon (though one without terraformers or cities).

"At least they were only worker Puchu," she said, holding a datapad. Her youthful voice echoed through the room and over the sprawled corpses. But her brown eyes were not focused on the carnage or the two women; they had shifted toward the fourth figure. "What do you think, Chief?"

The Chief was a tall man with black hair, clad in a black-and-white bodysuit. He had just finished sheathing his shining Earth-that-Was blade curved like the one in the black-haired woman sheath. Like the others, his eyes wandered across the massacre, then to his three companions, before settling on what he deemed the most important thing in the room and perhaps in this entire place: a rotten, sealed wooden door. His gaze narrowed in a resolute expression that followed by his immediate silence seemed to saber-rattle or simple concern the three women.

"I don't like it," he said finally, his brown eyes still fixed on the door. "Puchu activity in a quiet agri-colony like this?"

The doubt lingered in the air until he broke it with a simple word.

"Why?"

He placed his right hand on the door and pushed it open, knowing the yellow creatures were gone: the ones they had just slain were this place's final guardians.

As he stepped inside, the man raised his wrist, brushing his free hand across the reinforced material to activate a hidden torch. The pale yellow beam cut through the darkness, revealing extinguished candles scattered everywhere and small square monitors linked by red and blue wires. A shuttered window loomed ahead, its wooden boards half-broken inward, likely from the pressure of invading vines. In the corner, the remains of a metal-framed table and two mold-covered straw chairs were the only furniture. Everything normal aside from what stood in the center of the room.

"What?" the brown-haired woman muttered, stepping past the man. Lowering her polearm, she pointed its curved blade at a shattered concrete block. "They were interested in this?" she asked, frowning and scratching her cheek beneath the small mole under her eye as if even the presence of the concrete block irritated her skin or simple her mole.

"Maybe," said the girl with the glasses, rubbing her chin as she stepped closer. "Something was buried in it. Look at that hole. No… more like a recess. Something was poured inside. The Puchu must've broken it open to recover it."

But the man's gaze didn't move.

It wasn't what had been inside the recess that held him. It was the recess itself.

The hollow space seemed to call to him, wordlessly, as if it had been waiting since the day it was sealed, hidden from all eyes, ears, and souls. A voice older than millennia, older than the Empire or perhaps older than the universe itself. A sweet, seductive whisper from beyond time and space, from beyond the frame of reality. It called his name, caressed his chin, his cheeks, his body, as if stripping away his bodysuit and the garments beneath.

He felt his muscles, every cell in his body, responding to that silent call. A thick fog settled over his mind and soul, muting everything except the pull of the voice. A voice that began to take shape… a woman's shape… two bright eyes shining in the dark…

"Ogami-san!"

The shout from the black-haired woman cut through the fog, grabbing the man away from the two bright eyes.

He turned toward the three women, shook his head, and stepped back. Their worried faces told him they had seen something happen. He glanced again at the concrete block, then raised his wrist to his lips.

"Globe. Area cleared. Request extraction."

After speaking, he approached the block and pulled a small brown polymer disk from his pocket that was shaped like the head of a teddy bear and placed it against the block's side.

"Do you really want to take that to the Globe?" the black-haired woman asked, tilting her head.

"Yes," he said. "If the Puchu wanted this thing, there's a reason."

"I don't like it," she muttered.

"Dear," the brown-haired woman interjected, stepping to his left, "none of us like it. But the Commander's right. If those ugly aliens were studying it, there is a reason."

The man nodded, just as a faint blue glow appeared on their left. The light quickly shaped itself into a small figure, a young girl with a forest of golden hair tied with a lavish pink ribbon, dressed in a gold-and-white skintight bodysuit. As her petite, almost childlike form solidified, she turned her bright blue eyes toward the man.

"Onii-chan!" she exclaimed, extending her left hand. "Ready to return to the Globe?"

He nodded and took her hand, while the black-haired woman clasped the girl's other hand. In seconds, a circle was formed, and a green halo enveloped them before they vanished along with the block.

The room fell silent and dark once more, save for a faint breeze slipping through the broken boards of the window: a breeze that sounded, for a moment, like a small, amused laugh. The laughter of someone proud of what they had set in motion.

 

[Povovanon]

---

Robbed franchises:
Popful Mail, Don't Hurt Me, My Healer!, Lightning Warrior Raidy and Elder Scrolls.

The people of the city of Dis had always called the arid expanse beyond the colossal purple walls Infinite Agony.

No other cities, no other villages lay outside Dis; no sea, no mountains, no rivers; outside only a rusty, endless horizon leading to a slow, painful death, drowned in deep, silent agony.

Yet countless people left the collapsing and sprawling Dis to wander the Infinite Agony. Some fled the man's law or worse, the Masons' hammers. Others ventured out hoping to find the mythical underground ruins that sometimes surfaced from the lifeless expanse, uncovering ancient artifacts soaked in the blood of the Dead Gods and Goddesses. They were not the only ones roaming the desert: windriders maintained the archaic windmills scattered across the wastes, linked to Dis by massive cables buried deep beneath the ground; the Tears bled into the earth, trying to coax a single blade of grass from the red, scorched dust; and bounty hunters, tons of them, hunted fugitives that the Infinite Agony had not yet claimed.

Through that burning expanse, far from the city walls, a blue-and-grey figure was trudging beneath the scorching sun. It was shaped like a massive, squishy sphere with enormous black eyes that took up two-thirds of its face, framed by thick, black eyebrows. Two stubby legs supported its huge body, while a pair of useless batlike wings twitched weakly at its back. Several thin grey tubes were embedded into its hard blue skin through encrusted scars that covered its sides and back.

More machine than creature, this incredible two to three meters tall being was one of the treasures once found in the ruins scattered through the desert: a treasure reclaimed by its master.

Ropes were threaded through the spaces between the tubes, bound to two black, reinforced metal poles forming an A-frame. Three layers of cloth stretched across the frame, one over another, making a kind of rough pallet for the young woman lying on it.

A wide-brimmed, high-crowned straw hat with a pale blue ribbon shaded the woman's face from the scorching sunlight and the grit raised by the creature slow steps. Waves of fiery red hair spilled over her shoulders. Her hands, gloved in black leather, rested behind her head, exposing her rosy forearms and shaven armpits. A skintight silver leotard emphasized her petite yet striking figure. Reinforced jeans and heavy black boots covered her slender legs, crossed at the ankles, her right foot swaying with each pull of the creature's stride. Around her waist, a long belt full of pouches, even a knife sheath, rose and fell with each step.

Normally she would have ridden astride the creature, gripping the tubes as handholds and footholds to steer it or scan the surroundings; ready for the dangers of this wasteland, from cannibal Victi to sudden heat-hurricanes. But for now, she preferred to nap on her layered bed, wrapped in self-assured laziness.

Then came a sharp, improvised whistle from the creature's thin mouth. The woman stirred, rolled onto her side, and lifted the brim of her hat. Her large, light-blue eyes, bright and full of life, focused on the cluster of tubes.

"Anything wrong, Gaw?" she asked, leaning closer to study their faint colors and trembling vibrations.

When her eyes caught sight of two red tubes pulsing faintly, she jolted upright, climbing onto the creature's back and gripping the sturdy bones of its small wings to lift herself higher, bending over to meet its enormous black eyes.

"Found something interesting so" she chirped, scanning the endless rusty horizon.

The creature halted and blinked three times slowly.

With the agility of a loose-jointed acrobat, the woman shifted her weight and sat astride the creature's head.

"Red tubes, so, something interesting," she mused, rubbing her chin and narrowing her eyes as she surveyed the landscape for anything out of place in the rust-colored emptiness.

After several minutes, she slid down and shook out her long red hair. Her pointed, elongated and especially mutant ears twitched for nearly half a minute, as though listening might help her locate whatever Gaw had sensed. Finally, with a shrug, she began pacing around the creature in widening circles, her footprints forming a rough spiral in the dust.

Minutes later, her eyes widened at the sight of a blue spots and a green one amid the rusted ground, surrounded by fragments of grey and white stone. She sprinted toward them, only to scowl in disgust when she realized they were not mineral veins at all or simple rocks, but the bones of two half-buried skeletons.

Not that she was unused to death in the Infinite Agony. She had seen corpses before: half-stripped of flesh due to the little Victi teeth or bloated and livid under the merciless sun, left as banquets for insects and maggots, but she had hoped for something more than these two skeletons locked in an eternal strangling embrace with each pair of hands on the other's neck

Scratching her cheek, she let her gaze fall on the blue and green points again. Her curiosity sharpened when she realized they were hats, half buried in the dust. She leaned closer, careful not to touch the bones, more out of superstition than respect.

The blue hat was a cocked hat, trimmed in white and gold. At its front, inside a white rectangle framed by gold threads, a golden exclamation mark was embroidered.

The green hat, by contrast, was stiff cotton, marked at its center by a red cross with four equal arms.

At the sight of the green hat, the woman's face twisted in anger. She didn't know why, but just looking at it sent a hurricane of fury and disgust through her soul, as if the hat were tied to the most irritating person in the universe or all the possible universes.

She growled something unintelligible, then froze when she noticed a small yellow gleam between the two skulls. Her eyes widened, and a delighted grin spread across her face: so this was what Gaw had sensed. Like a bolt of red lightning, she lunged toward the shimmer, digging into the brittle soil to uncover it.

A small ring rested in her open palm, plain, cheap-looking, yellow metal. A star over a waning moon was put over it.

She was about to bite it, testing whether it was real gold, when her blue eyes caught the symbol again. The moon-and-star.

"You know, Gaw…" she said, turning toward the spherical creature with a mischievous smile. "I think we've hit the jackpot today."

She started toward the creature, ready to leap onto its back and ride off; but suddenly stopped, as if something cold had pierced her chest and soul. Slowly, her gaze returned to the two half-buried skeletons. Her eyes fixed on the skull beside the green hat with the red cross.

Without realizing it, she had walked back to the skeleton near the green hat. Her boot lifted and came down hard.

The skull shattered beneath her heel, fragments scattering like dry pebbles.

An amused grin crept over her lips, touched with childish sadism. Narrowing her eyes at the green hat lying beside the broken skull, she kicked it away, watching it tumble through the dust slowly. She blinked twice due to being so surprised by her own actions, then stepped back, uneasy. In the next instant she dashed toward Gaw and leapt onto the creature's back.

"Gaw, let's go home. I hope Tatt gives us a good price for this ring," she said, still turning it over in her hand.

The creature began to move again, slow and steady. The girl glanced back one last time at the vanishing skeletons, a frown on her face, wondering what exactly had come over her.

 

[Povovanon]

I won't name the franchise, discover and recognize them

---

Six young maidens were gathered in a flourishing garden behind a theater, somewhere in the twilight zone, or somewhere nearby. I don't know. But really, who cares where and when a story happens? What? Who are you, Aristotle? Well, put your three unities where you know. And yes, I am pointing at you!

Anyway, may I continue this story?

Two of the maidens, the wisest of the group, were facing the rest. The shorter one, with long black hair tied in a ponytail with a red ribbon, wore a pink kimono over red hakama pants. She stepped forward.

"Compadres-Sakura, it's imperative that we find a new Sakura before the arrival of the tenth generation," she declared, her voice filled with resolve and her brown eyes shining with sheer willpower enveloped in cherry blossom petals. "Especially since the last games have been a bit of a disappointment for all of us. I'm not accusing anyone… Gemini-Sakura, Shin-Sakura, Revolution-Sakura a—" She stopped, narrowing her eyes at one of the young maidens before blinking and turning to the brown-haired maiden in a red, puffy-sleeved dress. "But who's that? A Cancelled-Sakura? I don't want a Loss-Sakura or a Garfielf-Sakura here."

The brown-haired maiden shrugged, her innocent, pure face twisting into a mix of confusion and ignorance.

Both of the wise maidens turned their gaze toward a short-haired, black-haired maiden dressed in a loose orange-sleeved kimono and brown hakama pants.

Realizing she was under their scrutiny, the maiden blinked twice before slowly raising her right arm and pointing at herself.

"Neko Miyabi, from Sakura Wars: Kanadegumi."

The two wise maidens exchanged a confused glance, then shrugged in unison.

"I HAVE A FOUR-VOLUME MANGA AND TONS OF STAGE SHOWS! I'M A MAESTRO — I CAN SEE SOUNDS!" she cried in humiliated desperation, still pointing at herself before turning to the other three maidens nearby, who instinctively stepped back as if not wanting to be associated with her.

"Ah, right. Mirror-Sakura," the black-haired maiden said. More to end the scene than to acknowledge her.

"But, Sakura-senpai?" the brown-haired maiden asked, tilting her head and pressing her index finger to her chin with the most innocent expression in the multiverse (An expression that I failed to protect). "Aren't people from the Mirror Universe evil?"

"Oh, right," the black-haired maiden replied. "Well…" She glanced toward the isolated maiden. "You're Maestro-Sakura. Any objections?"

Everyone shook their heads, though the black-haired girl in the orange kimono let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Now," the maiden in pink kimono said, "we'll evaluate several candidates to become the new Sakura for the tenth-generation game, because…" Her tone dropped as she slowly released her frustration. "I don't want to make the 3482nd Midsummer Festival in front of 90-year-old, diaper-wearing otaku because any of you had failed to continue my legend! You too Erica, eh!"

And so, the six maidens in love took their seats at a table, facing an endless line of girls ready to impress them and earn the name of Sakura.

"All right, state your name and power," the maiden in pink kimono commanded.

A blonde, busty woman stepped forward, dressed in a black mini-skirt and a white top under a red leather jacket.

"My name is Erina Goldsmith!" she roared proudly. "I bash the enemies of peace and justice with my fists!"

She showed her brass-knuckled hands, still stained with blood. "Or…" She flashed a naughty, sadistic smile, "I burn their faces with this!"

She squeezed her breasts together, and a lighter popped out from her cleavage. "Bwaaaasshhh!" she hissed, mimicking fire like Gene Simmons, but a blond Gene Simmons with a good and old pair of big tits.

All the innocent, pure maidens recoiled in disgust except the black-haired one in pink, who simply narrowed her eyes.

"So," the blonde said casually, "how's the pay? You Sega girls earn good money, right?"

"The next," the black-haired maiden said flatly, maintaining her narrow-eyed stare.

The next one was a pale woman with short purple hair and a bang covering her right eye. She wore a black school uniform with a long skirt, a small red ribbon at her collar, and a white cloak hanging awkwardly over it. Grinning with satisfaction, she grabbed the edge of her cloak and pulled it aside, revealing a younger girl, almost a child, dressed in the same outfit, her purple hair tied in twin buns.

"I'm Milli Yorks," said the older one.

"And I'm Mill Yorks!" declared the younger, more resolutely.

"Nice!" the brown-haired maiden exclaimed, eyes shining with innocent enthusiasm as she turned to the others in hope that her enthusiasm may infect them. "Sisters!"

"The next," the black-haired maiden groaned in despair, facepalming dramatically.

"But why, Sakura-senpai?" the brown-haired one asked, blinking with confused innocence.

"THE NEXT," she said calmly.

A blonde girl with emerald eyes approached, wearing cream shirt and short black spats that left her legs exposed.

But before she could speak, one of the maidens, the orange-haired cowgirl with a samurai's heart (and probably a schizoid personality) jumped onto the table, drew her revolver, and aimed at the girl's face.

"GO AWAY, BRISKET!" she said calmly. "I WILL NEVER ALLOW YOU TO TAKE SHINJIRO, YOU DAMNED TR—"

She couldn't finish the mysterious word before all the maidens jumped on her. The black-haired one in pink kimono clamped her hand over the cowgirl with samurai's heart mouth before the universe could hear that mysterious word.

"You wanted to get my franchise canceled?" she growled furiously. "Weren't you happy enough killing it the first time?"

"But why can't you two be friends?" the brown-haired maiden whined sadly, holding onto the cowgirl with samurai's heart legs. "Like me and Jack'O!"

After five minutes of chaos, calm returned to the garden.

A new girl arrived: a petite blonde child with snow-white skin and bright blue eyes that sparkled with a strange, impish, naughty way. She wore a skimpy orange summer dress that screamed three simple words… Honey pot and jailbait.

"Hi, my name is Sasha an—"

"THE NEXT!" five maidens shouted at once, pointing at the blonde child.

Meanwhile the brown-haired maiden stared at them, her expression a perfect portrait of purity and confusion. Too much innocent, too much pure to know what's happening. Yes, she doesn't know about the beads down there.

Another one arrived: a woman dressed in a black school uniform, with long black hair and two tiny black eyes shining with corruption, darkness, madness, and the cruelty of the universe's deepest void. A mole sat beneath her right eye. A small smile curved her porcelain-doll face.

"—"

Now, how would this story end?

Chisa Yokoyama, dressed with black sunglasses, pushing the woman away and starting to sing the Japanese cover of All Star?

This is impossible, but…

A man can dream though, a man can dream