Puff Most Epic - [Latest: Ch 2 Complete, Ch1 Pt 1 Revised]

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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Rough Giraffe » Tue Aug 25, 2009 8:28 pm

You know, we had wanted to illustrate the fact that he didn't really care about them. Perhaps that wasn't clear enough. And so...

[jot jot jot]

His eyes passed over her new bionics, but he seemed uninterested. "Mind telling me what happened?"


There. A little more obvious.

Also, I should note that Him probably does use minions, but prefers to carry out some larger actions himself.

Consider the fact that Him probably represents "The Devil Himself," but you apparently can't call him Satan on Cartoon Network, and so that's how he became known as Him, "a villain so evil, so sinister, so horribly vile that even the utterance of his name strikes fear into the hearts of men!"

Doesn't really explain why he looks like a thin, cherry-skinned Santa Claus.

One more thing: We at Puff Most Epic try not to give away any spoilers. If we tell you what happens, you won't be excited about seeing it or you'll be let down when you find out that it happens exactly the way you thought it would.

So I won't tell you who is planning what.

But don't diminish the importance of Him in this story.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Sat Oct 24, 2009 12:38 am

hot shit ruffdraft had this wicked sick idea where we put in a table of contents for you guys for fast access to any part of the story because we are TOTALLY AWESOME like dat. Go to any post with a story part in it and you will see very quickly how GREAT it is to browse to any part of any where any time. Just for giggles. Not to mention we're almost done with not one but two parts of the story. I mean, I was in the hospital so hiatus makes sense but EFF THAT we're going to be updating the hell out of this story soon with a whole mess of stuff and concept arts by all sorts of people (but mostly IanMeta)

I am on vicodin but RuffDraft is not! We are still making story! Yay!
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BunnyBunny » Mon Oct 26, 2009 4:43 pm

The table of contents thing would seriously help. I forgot where we left off...was it where that investigator visited the house? I know it wasn't when Bubbles and Blossom were talking about Buttercup...or was it?

If it makes you feel better, I think I have fever and my head is soon to implode.

*brings the roaring crowd* Ow-yay!
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Blood Lord » Mon Oct 26, 2009 4:54 pm

Damn you people. I thought it had updated.

hot shit ruffdraft had this wicked sick idea where we put in a table of contents for you guys for fast access to any part of the story

This man you know.

Listen to him.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Sun Nov 01, 2009 12:44 am

Part 4: Rapid Third Eye Movement


[][][][][][] The sun rose reluctantly. Sliding ever-so-slowly into the sky on the horizon, its orange-red glow cast a cool morning light on the landscape. The light slithered across the grass, and the ladybugs yawned, and flitted their wings as they took a sip of the morning dew, and basked in the fresh rays from the sun.

[][][][][][] It baked the land as it went further and further, and then stopped at a white, faded wall. It seemed hesitant, but it climbed, higher and higher and finally poked its way into the bedroom windows.

[][][][][][] The sun touched the sleeping girl's eyes and brought that familiar sting, and she clenched them tighter shut. She opened them slowly and tried to roll over, away from it.

[][][][][][] But they were in her way.

[][][][][][] After a moment of just thinking about why she couldn't turn her body, she once again closed her eyes and sighed.

[][][][][][] So annoying.

[][][][][][] Two, coiled over her body like a shield; the other two lay above and below, cradling her gently. She concentrated on the arms, and on what she wanted to do. At once they untwisted and moved away, and then she turned her body just enough to rise, and dangle her legs over the side of the bed, still squinting against the impertinent beams. Her arms dropped slowly, clanking as they bumped against themselves on the floor. She looked at them briefly. She wasn't as... weirded out by them anymore.

[][][][][][] Why was that? Because of what Blossom had told her?

[][][][][][] ...the very state of mind of... you, Bubbles...

[][][][][][] They were a part of her. They were an extension of herself.

[][][][][][] Permanent?

[][][][][][] Maybe.

[][][][][][] In silence, she sat, and shook her head clear, then stood, and stretched with some minor discomfort. Finally, she hunched forward, allowing her back to peacefully relax.

[][][][][][] She turned, and looked onto the bed.

[][][][][][] Blossom slept on the other side, almost smiling. She looked around the room. Buttercup was... nowhere in sight.

[][][][][][] At first, she didn't react, but she smiled, crawled back on to the bed, and sat on her heels, just staring at her in silence.

[][][][][][] It had been so long since they had shared the same bed. The fact that she could sit there and watch her in slumber... well, that was enough. Just the thought was enough, really.

[][][][][][] She looked down at the arms.

[][][][][][] ...the very state of mind...

[][][][][][] She didn't need to be ashamed... she knew that. But, she—Buttercup—didn't like them. But in her absence, Bubbles could do what she wanted, and it felt... good.

[][][][][][] She concentrated, slowly, and it heeded her easily now. One arm uncoiled and extended. Her eyes met the bookcase, and it reached out to it, pressing its tip against the books. As if she were right in front of it, she knew the books, even though she couldn't see them. As she pulled away, a single book came out of the bookcase, slowly—her eyes flickered, but never broke her concentration. As it left the shelf, it dangled from the rounded tip of the arm. It was like a magnet.

[][][][][][] She concentrated just a little harder. Like a hand.

[][][][][][] The book stopped swinging and held its place. As she brought it to her, the book opened and it flipped to a random page. She loved this story.

[][][][][][] She looked to her right, brought her focus to the other arm, and simply extended it across the room, slowly going over the bed, towards the far wall. She touched it experimentally, and then began to pull back. Her arm passed over the bed.

[][][][][][] ...at're you doi...

[][][][][][] The book dropped to the floor, and she froze. She heard... Blossom's voice? From where? The arm? No... but it had passed Blossom when she heard it.

[][][][][][] She looked at her sleeping sister with the crimson hair, curiously, moved the arm over her sister and leaned in.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] "What are you doing?"

[][][][][][] "I think you deserve to see this," he stated flatly as he brought screen to life.

[][][][][][] There, inside the brightly glowing box, a coffin, surrounded by people. People she knew well. The people of Townsville, and her family, gathered at her wake. The hum of the screen was the only thing that told her she was still alive, as she watched her casket lower into her grave.

[][][][][][] She wept, the tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her chin. "It's horrible," she told him.

[][][][][][] He sneered. "If you are looking for sympathy, know that this is the most you will get from me." He lifted up her chin and stared her in the eyes. Though it surprised her, it did not intimidate her at all. "I show you this only so now you know how much the world you left loved you. And I can see in your eyes that now, you know how much the world hated me. So I have nothing left to lose."

[][][][][][] He let her go abruptly and cut the power to the screen. "You are a tool—now and always, my dear—a means to an end. You should be prepared to never see your family again."

[][][][][][] After a moment of pause, he turned his head and asked, "Do you want to keep watching?"

[][][][][][] Restrained to the table, she could do nothing but nod.

[][][][][][] He turned the screen back on and left the room. She watched the ceremony draw to a close. She cried, but she could not forget. She would not. It would keep her going.

[][][][][][] She imagined the day when she would return, and tried to imagine the looks on their faces.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Bubbles drew her head back, and felt her tears. She sat back, and dabbed them away with her hands.

[][][][][][] Blossom moved and opened her eyes, almost rolling over, but found her vision on Bubbles' face, and stared up at her. She sat up a little, and looked at her more closely. "Bubbles," she whispered. "Why are you crying?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles clenched her eyes shut and threw her arms around her sister, crying harder. "I don't know how you did it..."

[][][][][][] Blossom almost fell onto the bed, taken aback by Bubbles' sudden flux of emotion. She didn't understand. "Did what?"

[][][][][][] She sobbed harder, and struggled for the words "Made it." Sniffle. "You... you made it. I—I would've..."

[][][][][][] "Bubbles..."

[][][][][][] "But you're here. I'm... so glad you're here, Blossom. I—" Sniffle. "I love you so much."

[][][][][][] The tears, already forming at the corner of Blossom's real eye, trickled down. "I love you too, Bubbles."

[][][][][][] Blossom wrapped her arms around her loving sister, and held her tight.

[][][][][][] Their morning routine in effect, Blossom and Bubbles got up with a new set of clothes and made their way to the bathroom. Blossom glanced at the arms; Bubbles had enough autonomic control to keep them hovering above the floor. She pursed her lips and nodded approvingly. And they kept hovering, calmly, as Bubbles waited for Blossom to finish. She looked down and saw Buttercup, sleeping on the sofa. Buttercup was making a sad face and muttering in her sleep.

[][][][][][] Bubbles craned her head... What's she dreaming about? She closed her eyes, slowly concentrating.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She held his hand. "Master, you can't die! I need you. I can't—"

[][][][][][] The monk, her mentor, rasped as he spoke. "Buttercup, it is my time. All things must come to an end. Please, accept my death and continue living."

[][][][][][] "No! No, I can't do this without you, I'm... I'm too angry! Bubbles—I don't want to do these things I'm doing, but I can't... I can't help it."

[][][][][][] "We can always control our actions." His breathing was deep and he looked up at her meaningfully. "Anger is a part of life. It is impossible to run away from anger, but all things must be in balance. Anger tips the scale. First, admit that you are angry, and then focus away from that anger."

[][][][][][] "Yeah, but..." She turned her eyes away. "I just... I'm angry all the time, I—"

[][][][][][] "Search, Buttercup. You must find that which makes you happy. Be it crime fighting, friendship, family... go out and find it, and free yourself of anger." He laughed, and then coughed, as it became too much for him. His breathing became more shallow.

[][][][][][] "Master!"

[][][][][][] He held up one hand, barely, to ease her concern, and then took a breath, looking her in the eyes. "Go, Buttercup. You have the strength... to accomplish... any goal you... set out for. Use that strength—be good... and do not miss me."

[][][][][][] "I can't help—I mean, I'll miss you no matter what—Master!"

[][][][][][] He rolled back and folded his hands over his chest, smiling, even as his breathing became impossibly slow.

[][][][][][] "Master! Please, don't leave me!"

[][][][][][] He kept smiling, though, as she tried to bring him back. He was at peace.

[][][][][][] And then he took one final breath, and was gone.

[][][][][][] She stared, blood draining from her face—he lay, lifeless, but smiling.

[][][][][][] She collapsed to her knees, and cried at his wake, as her tears dripped to the floor.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Bubbles cast her eyes downward. So that's what happened. She had never met the man in her vision, but she felt Buttercup's tears as if they were her own.

[][][][][][] "...bles."

[][][][][][] She closed her eyes. It took all she had to hold back the tears.

[][][][][][] "Bubbles?"

[][][][][][] Her eyes snapped open as Blossom pressed her hand against her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise. She was mostly dry but for her hair, and had changed into a white tee and pink sweat pants.

[][][][][][] "Are you all right? I said, it's your turn. Go ahead."

[][][][][][] A beat passed before Bubbles blinked and nodded. "Right. Sorry, my mind was... elsewhere."

[][][][][][] She went into the bathroom before Blossom could comment, and closed the door behind her.

[][][][][][] Bubbles stepped into the tub and sank into the water. Warm. Soothing. Relaxing.

[][][][][][] She was worried. About Blossom. About Buttercup. About the Professor.

[][][][][][] The sounds of his sobs brought the girl from upstairs in the living room, downstairs to the laboratory. She peered into the dim room, and saw him, sitting alone, head in his hands, at his workbench. The single fluorescent light in front of him cast a gloomy haze on the room. She frowned sadly as she came closer, hovering towards him.

[][][][][][] He looked at her out of the corner of his left eye, and turned to see her. "Bubbles."

[][][][][][] She cast her eyes askance, trying to find something to say.

[][][][][][] His hands were folded and he looked like he was in pain. "I tried, Bubbles. I... I was just trying to be a good father, Bubbles. But I'm not... I'm no good. I can't—I can't even..."

[][][][][][] A moment of silence followed. "I think you're a good father."

[][][][][][] He looked at her, smiled, and pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the cheek. "I love you, Bubbles."

[][][][][][] "I love you, too, Professor."

[][][][][][] "...but I don't know what to do."

[][][][][][] Her soft sniffles came through as she hugged him back.

[][][][][][] "I didn't know that she would react like that..."

[][][][][][] "Professor..."

[][][][][][] "I wasn't prepared for... for this..."

[][][][][][] She opened her eyes, and for the first time looked at his workbench. Laying on its surface was a single black-and-white plastic sheet... an X-ray.

[][][][][][] A single broken rib.

[][][][][][] Bubbles' clenched eyes opened even as her cool tears dripped into the hot water... the memory... she could feel her other arms twitching... she tried to stop them, but the shudders kept coming.

[][][][][][] She glanced over her shoulder at the arms.

[][][][][][] Her expression widened. "Oh—oh..."

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] After a moment of silence and idle thoughts, an earthquake seemed to be happening in the bathroom, and then it was silent. She was about to speak, but Bubbles beat her to it. "Blossom? Could you... give me a hand?"

[][][][][][] She blinked. "Yeah, sure." Opening the door and putting one foot into the room, her eyes went wide. What she saw surprised her, but she still walked the rest of the way in and shut the door behind her. The arms were waylaid across the room; one was hooked over the rail for the curtain; one lay over the toilet and went into the sink; another faked itself across the rug, and one was embedded in the wall, above the bathtub. Soap, toothbrushes, razors and the like were strewn across the floor, the arms having knocked them all over. Bubbles sat in the tub, hugging herself, concealing her body with her own arms. Was she simply being modest, or was she not used to having family in the room while she changed?

[][][][][][] She almost seemed hesitant to speak. "I... can't get my back," she said after Blossom had closed the door. She was facing away. Even if she saw what her arms did, there was nothing she could do about it; Blossom knew that as well.

[][][][][][] "Uhh... Sure. I'll help you." After a moment, Blossom found the soap on the floor and picked up a washcloth. "Lean forward."

[][][][][][] Bubbles did as she was told. The arms barely shifted with her as she adjusted her posture. Blossom wet the cloth and rubbed it against the bar of soap. She looked up at Bubbles' bare back, trying to figure out just how she was supposed to clean the grid to which the arms were fixed. Finally, she touched the area experimentally with the wet, soapy rag.

[][][][][][] Nothing happened.

[][][][][][] She washed the top—around the first set of arms—and then further, expecting at any moment that an arm would suddenly swing to the side and knock her unconscious, but they never moved. And then she was finished, and she rinsed off the soap. Nothing had happened. Everything was fine. Apparently the area was waterproof. She wondered if the arms were rustproof as well, but certainly only whoever did this to her would know the answer to that. She started to wonder about the real purpose of the limbs, and why they'd been attached to her sister, and then...

[][][][][][] Bubbles wiggled uncomfortably. “Blossom?”

[][][][][][] “Oh!" She snapped her hand away and rinsed off the cloth in the tub. "All done.”

[][][][][][] She nodded. “I'm... fine now... I'll... just....”

[][][][][][] “Yeah, you finish up.” Blossom winced, and started to back out of the room.

[][][][][][] “Blossom?”

[][][][][][] She stopped, and turned. Bubbles looked over her shoulder at her, and smiled.

[][][][][][] “Thanks.”

[][][][][][] She smiled back as she shut the door.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Blossom waited outside as Bubbles finished up in the bath. She looked over the banister again. Buttercup was gone from the couch. She looked around, but she didn't see her. Where did she go?

[][][][][][] The door opened and Bubbles stepped out wearing her blue pajama bottoms with the orange sunflower pattern, but she had her towel pressed against her chest with a bit of cloth coming from between her arms. Her other arms floated shakily behind her, covering up her back. "I can't get my shirt on," she said, embarrassed, and extending the ball of torn cloth that was her shirt to Blossom.

[][][][][][] Blossom sighed. "We're gonna have to help you figure that out. Hold out your arms."

[][][][][][] She helped Bubbles dress, and then they headed downstairs.

[][][][][][] The stairs thumped softly beneath Blossom's feet.

[][][][][][] Buttercup closed the front door behind her after with yesterday's mail in her hand. She turned to the closet by the door and threw the bundle of papers carelessly inside. She passed the stairway, and her eyes met Blossom's. She all but jumped back, as if seeing a ghost. And then she relaxed, blushing. "Hey, Bloss."

[][][][][][] Blossom's expression grew a little forlorn, with just a hit of irritation. "Morning, Buttercup." She looked towards the kitchen. "You didn't happen to make breakfast again today, did you?"

[][][][][][] "Huh?" The idea came around to the front of her brain and she realized how hungry she was. "Oh, no. I didn't even start yet."

[][][][][][] "Good, then it's my turn. You and Bubbles watch TV. I'll make breakfast."

[][][][][][] Blossom bounded towards the kitchen, and Bubbles shrugged in time with Buttercup.

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked at Bubbles, and then behind her. She winced just slightly.

[][][][][][] Bubbles returned her gaze, and faked a smile. "Good morning, Buttercup."

[][][][][][] "Morning." She turned away and sat on the sofa tried to relax. But her mind was elsewhere.

[][][][][][] "Come on, Bloss, it's time for the show!"

[][][][][][] "That wrestling thing?"

[][][][][][] "It's the freakin' Doubleyew-Doubleyew-Eff! Come on! I've been waiting all month for this! They play cartoons all the time!"

[][][][][][] "But I'm watching this.

[][][][][][] "Just change the channel!"

[][][][][][] "Just watch it in the TV upstairs!"

[][][][][][] "But this one is High-Def'!"

[][][][][][] "Ugh. Fine. I'll go upstairs. Enjoy your show. Wrestling's fake anyway."

[][][][][][] "It is so not fake! You suck! Go away!"

[][][][][][] Blossom sighed and floated upstairs, and Bubbles followed behind her, looking back for only a moment, sadly, before turning back to Blossom.

[][][][][][] Buttercup changed the channel and glanced over her shoulder, watching them disappear into the bedroom.

[][][][][][] She turned back to the TV. She could always apologize later.

[][][][][][] But she never did... never really thought it was that important... they were a family, after all. She could apologize now... but she knew it would seem silly. She kept quiet.

[][][][][][] She tightened up her cheeks; she shook her head; she tried to concentrate on the TV; she sighed.

[][][][][][] Bubbles frowned sympathetically, and all six of her arms drooped. She walked over and took a seat on the couch, and the arms draped themselves over the back almost naturally. Buttercup glanced at her and then back at the TV, and sat in silence. Idly, the two of them watched the screen. Buttercup's eyes shot to Bubbles for just a moment. She grew restless, and then handed Bubbles the remote. "Wanna watch something? I'm gonna take a shower."

[][][][][][] She took it from her gently. "Sure. Thanks."

[][][][][][] "Yeah," she replied and jumped off the couch, flying upstairs in a hurry. Closing the bathroom door behind her.

[][][][][][] Why is it so hard to be in the same room with her? She felt her hand scratching the back of her neck.

[][][][][][] She disrobed and stepped in front of the mirror, and stared at her reflection. She touched her scars one after another, starting with the one on her left eye—

[][][][][][] A big, pink claw.

[][][][][][] —and then on the side of her neck—

[][][][][][] It tore at her skin.

[][][][][][] —she moved her hand back, to the patch below her shoulder—

[][][][][][] His teeth sank into her back.

[][][][][][] —and then she stared at the ones on her right fist—

[][][][][][] She punched him in the mouth.

[][][][][][] —she rubbed them in a daze. She shifted her gaze to her chest, at the one long scar that ran from her right shoulder to her left leg and around the knee.

[][][][][][] One huge swipe.

[][][][][][] She still remembered that day... and what happened after. She shuddered. Pushed the unpleasant memory back.

[][][][][][] Now she was looking at the edges of her scar. The other day, they seemed a little cracked... now they seemed a little more flush.

[][][][][][] But it was a scar. It wasn't going to heal all the way.

[][][][][][] She fully undressed, and turned on the water. Her hand tested it. No burning today.

[][][][][][] She was out in a matter of minutes, dried, redressed and came downstairs just as Blossom finished setting the table.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Blossom's breakfast was more palatable than Buttercup's, and the three of them ate happily, having a decent meal for the first time since they had gotten back home several days ago. Buttercup scarfed her eggs, crunched her bacon, and chugged her milk quickly, ravenously. Bubbles giggled, and Blossom couldn't bring up the will to chastise her. She was just happy that this could take place, that she could see it happen. Besides, they were home. It didn't really matter how she ate.

[][][][][][] The window glowed behind her.

[][][][][][] Blossom looked outside. "It's such a lovely day, isn't it?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked outside. "It's pretty bright out, yeah."

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked outside, and her eyes seemed to sparkle. "Look! A butterfly!"

[][][][][][] Blossom saw it and watched it flit by, but Buttercup paid no mind, and looked away.

[][][][][][] Bubbles' expression changed and she glanced at Buttercup, but remained silent.

[][][][][][] Blossom noticed the moment, frowned, and then looked at the ceiling in thought. "Hey guys, what do you say we go out today?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles' eyes went wide and stared at her in shock. Buttercup's was more of dull surprise. "You sure about that, Blossom? You've been... well, dead... for a long time."

[][][][][][] "Yeah, I know. I think it's time to let everyone know I'm back. I'm looking forward to surprising everyone. Especially Miss Bellum."

[][][][][][] Buttercup grinned. "Yeah, right! Hang on, I'll go get ready." Scarfing the rest of her food, she flew upstairs.

[][][][][][] Blossom looked at Bubbles for the first time since she had made her suggestion. She did not look remotely happy. "Bubbles?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles—looking away, her hand pressed against her lips, her eyes cast downward... she looked pale.

[][][][][][] "You don't want to go outside?"

[][][][][][] She shook her head quickly.

[][][][][][] "Hm." I guess it can't be helped. "It's okay, I don't really blame you. If you don't wanna go, then I won't either."

[][][][][][] "Oh, no! I—"

[][][][][][] "What?!"

[][][][][][] Blossom looked over, and Bubbles turned, to Buttercup. She had returned, and her expression had gone sour. "Why don't you wanna go?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked at Blossom.

[][][][][][] "Buttercup, she's obviously hurt over the arms. She's—"

[][][][][][] "Oh, come on! Yeah, they're pretty creepy, but so what? What does she care?"

[][][][][][] Blossom glowered at her. "Don't you think if some guy experimented on you, you'd want to keep hidden?"

[][][][][][] She scoffed. "So do you wanna stay home, too?"

[][][][][][] She shot out of her chair, slamming her hands on the table. "Buttercup!"

[][][][][][] "Didn't you wanna let everyone know you're alive? You haven't seen anyone in years! Everyone thinks you're dead." She paused. "And you look dead. You could use some sun."

[][][][][][] Blossom scoffed. "I'm not leaving without her."

[][][][][][] Buttercup rolled her eyes and threw up her arms. "Ya ain't keepin' me in here. Everyone knows I'm alive..." She opened the door, and before they knew she was gone, the door had already slammed shut.

[][][][][][] Blossom sat there, seething, staring at the door. The silence was deafening.

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked over at her. "Please don't call her that."

[][][][][][] They froze. Blossom, and Bubbles an instant later in turn. Bubbles gulped.

[][][][][][] After a long pause: "I didn't say anything."

[][][][][][] "...No, you didn't."

[][][][][][] "Out loud, anyway."

[][][][][][] "...I know."

[][][][][][] Blossom's heart thumped wildly. "Is it... hard?"

[][][][][][] She shook her head. "Not really. You and Buttercup are pretty... uh... loud."

[][][][][][] Blossom looked away. "Can you... even stop?"

[][][][][][] "Uh..." she sighed. "Well... I get distracted, but..."

[][][][][][] "...you don't really stop. I mean, you haven't, at least."

[][][][][][] "Well, it's really hard right now. You're... um... really... fast. And getting... faster."

[][][][][][] "Am I... hurting you? Has it ever hurt?"

[][][][][][] "No, you're not. It hasn't hurt at all... um... yet."

[][][][][][] "Does Buttercup know?"

[][][][][][] She shook her head.

[][][][][][] "Hm." She thought about it. "It's probably better that she doesn't... at least not yet, huh?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked up and smiled.

[][][][][][] She smiled back. "So... what do you wanna do today?"

[][][][][][] After a moment of thought, she looked at Blossom and her smile widened.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Buttercup floated on her back, in the clouds, frowning darkly. Unbelievable. Her heartbeat was in her ears and in her eyes. Sighing, she swung out at the cloud around her, knocking away the cold immaterial vapor.

[][][][][][] "...eeeelp!"

[][][][][][] As she hit the cloud, the sound came through. She turned, wide-eyed, rolled out of the cloud—free-falling to Earth. With a blast of cold air, in front of an old lady laying on the grass by the street. "Are you okay?"

[][][][][][] The old lady looked up at her fearfully for just a moment, then her eyes shifted, and she pointed down the street. "That man stole my purse!"

[][][][][][] Buttercup turned, seeing the fugitive, and sped towards him. As he ran, he looked over his shoulder.

[][][][][][] "AHHH!!" He dropped the purse in fright and ran faster.

[][][][][][] She stopped over the purse, watching the criminal get away. Looking down, she saw the purse. She picked it up—

[][][][][][] After Blossom died, Buttercup patrolled on her own. The same lady with the same purse. Buttercup handed it over.

[][][][][][] The old lady was afraid and unsure. "Th-thank you... uh, B-Buttercup." She shuffled away in a hurry, as if afraid to be anywhere near her. She wouldn't even look her in the eye.

[][][][][][] "Pfuh," Buttercup muttered. "Next time do it yourself."

[][][][][][] She shook her head and sped back. "Here." She handed it to the lady, who dug through, making sure that nothing was missing and clutched it to her chest. "Oh... Thank you, Buttercup. Thank you."

[][][][][][] "Thank you, girls. How would you like some bubblegum?"

[][][][][][] "Heck yeah. Thanks, lady."

[][][][][][] Yeah... they had all had to deal with this old lady a bunch of times. Was she just unlucky with guys stealing her purse?

[][][][][][] And the criminal... she knew she had let him get away, and she felt bad about it... but she had made this old lady happy. For some reason, she felt... perfectly fine about it.

[][][][][][] She hesitated briefly. "Take care," she said, and flew away.

[][][][][][] She watched the city roll around her as she sat on top of the revolving restaurant. How was she supposed to feel? She hadn't felt like this since... back then.

[][][][][][] She rolled back on to her hands, staring up at the clouds, and thought back.

[][][][][][] She nodded. "Good times."

Previous: Part Three - Wool Vision
Next: Part Five - Faded Watercolors
Table of Contents
Last edited by BeeAre on Sun Nov 01, 2009 10:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Q.U. » Sun Nov 01, 2009 7:44 am

Nice, yet awkward.

Tell me one thing, shouldn't that master have still been calling Buttercup a "little grasshopper"? Just for the sake of continuity?
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Blood Lord » Sun Nov 01, 2009 6:59 pm

Blossom scoffed. "I not leaving without her."

Shouldn't that be "I'm not leaving without her." ?

Overall its going great guys. I enjoy reading this.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Sun Nov 01, 2009 10:17 pm

BL: edited. WOOPS.

Anyway. Hey, the table of contents links are in, which is nice. Very quick.

Q.U.: We have maaaaaybe one or two more potential short flashbacks with the master wherein his nickname for Buttercup could be used, but we thought that his death was significant enough for him to be pretty direct with her.

But I am more interested in the awkward. Not the writing hopefully, but the content, yes? Because we did want there to be significantly NOT HAPPY GOOD moments with this quite broken family.

Any in-depth comments on the progression (or stuttering therein) of the plot?
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Q.U. » Mon Nov 02, 2009 7:50 am

[][][][][][] Blossom looked away. "Can you... even stop?"

[][][][][][] "Uh..." she sighed. "Well... I get distracted, but..."

[][][][][][] "...you don't really stop. I mean, you haven't, at least."

[][][][][][] "Well, it's really hard right now. You're... um... really... fast. And getting... faster."

[][][][][][] "Am I... hurting you? Has it ever hurt?"

[][][][][][] "No, you're not. It hasn't hurt at all... um... yet."

[][][][][][] "Does Buttercup know?"

[][][][][][] She shook her head.

[][][][][][] "Hm." She thought about it. "It's probably better that she doesn't... at least not yet, huh?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked up and smiled.


Oddly enough...

but we thought that his death was significant enough for him to be pretty direct with her.

Yes, I came up with that explanation myself. It could work both ways, for me.

The only deeper discussion should come out of the simple question of how is their house still standing, with cracks and holes in it. I mean, Bubbles had just made a hole in the wall, did the arm go through? And if yes what room was behind it? Or was it the outer wall? With all the damage, I'm surprised their house is still standing.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Mon Nov 02, 2009 11:05 pm

We actually are already addressing that in a couple parts. Hahaha, you guys are really on the money. We seriously have a really short sequence involving the girls doing some repair work on the house in part... uh, six, I think?

Anyone have any objections or comments on the girls themselves? I promise that these deep character things are going to start being phased into a more active environ soon, but I am definitely intereested in any audience reactions on how we've been focusing on their characters.
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Q.U. » Tue Nov 03, 2009 12:22 pm

Well, it's done right. The only thing I find a bit unnerving is how you seem to dive into their personalities proving how deep and scorched their psyches are, yet barely revealing just a bit of what makes them that deep. In other words, we get pauses and thoughts, uneasy interactions and so on. But the style of describing the reasons for those reactions to be such prevents us from learning more. I'm assuming it's just you guys trying to hide and then slowly reveal those things, since character depth is (so far) what the story bases mostly upon, so revealing it all straight away would have been against the convention. Yet, despite that fact I still find the narration painfully objective.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Rough Giraffe » Tue Nov 03, 2009 10:17 pm

Objective, yes. Well, I could give you all the pieces, fill in all the blanks, and let you know exactly what each character is thinking. But what fun is that? Easy writing is boring. There's no challenge to it. I can't throw my head against my office chair and let my thoughts flow into my fingertips and come up with something totally fucking mindblowing and then not know how I came up with it if I'm writing subjectively. That's why we have all these plot devices and character flaws and little tidbits of theme strewn everywhere. It's to make the reading more challenging. To make you think about these things as they happen, as if you were watching it go down.

Admittedly, my sense of theme sucks. As does my sense of fashion. I'm currently wearing a tie-died sleeveless tee, slacks, and running shoes. And a bra. But despite all of that, the fact of the matter is that we're INTENTIONALLY withholding info from you and making tiny hints at what's been going on. I'm not trying to dog on your comments or anything (woof woof), but this is KINDA a new way of writing to me, even this far into the series. I like doing it this way. Before, my writing was rather... textbookish. And no one would read a textbook story.

BR is trying to break me out of this by hitting my mind over and over with his sledgehammer of mindfuck, and slowly but surely, I begin. So don't worry if it seems too objective, it will become a little more subjective as time goes on and all the pieces begin to sprout images, and you can finally figure out where they go to complete the picture.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Q.U. » Wed Nov 04, 2009 6:41 am

But despite all of that, the fact of the matter is that we're INTENTIONALLY withholding info from you and making tiny hints at what's been going on.

Q.U. wrote:I'm assuming it's just you guys trying to hide and then slowly reveal those things, since character depth is (so far) what the story bases mostly upon, so revealing it all straight away would have been against the convention.

I know what you're saying. :> And I know perfectly what your goal is in this narration. All I actually wanted to know id whether that narration style will be changing or not. But now you've answered that.

And no, we don't want you to reveal all the secrets and delicate hidden interactions between the characters. Though, the longer the time you keep things hidden the longer the prospect of the whole story when finished will seem.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Rough Giraffe » Sat Dec 12, 2009 10:51 am

Part 5: Faded Watercolors

[][][][][][] The hair was wet, and then it was stained. The stain was moved, and then was itself stained, mixing the colors to make something new. The new stain—tan—pressed against the paper, and spread. The brush slid back and forth as the paint stuck to the page. In the water it went, and then it was back. Green. The tan color was highlighted with green around the edge, and then it was back in the water. Black. It made the shape of her hair, and slipped ever so gently to make a mouth. And then it was rinsed. The hand moved the brush back and forth from the page to the water, and from the water to the paint, and then back to the page. Buttercup's face formed in the creamy paint on the paper. Her body followed, and then the monster, as she traded blows with it, completing the picture. It was the first of many smaller pictures on the page.

[][][][][][] Blossom looked over. "Wow, that's pretty good, Bubbles."

[][][][][][] "Really?"

[][][][][][] "Yeah. Looks like you've been practicing."

[][][][][][] She smiled. Blossom's painting was coming along slowly, but it was the start of a self-portrait. The back of her mind brought the memory forward...

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She opened her eyes for the first time since the procedure began.

[][][][][][] "Welcome back," he said flatly as he noticed her movement.

[][][][][][] She looked around. Eyes. She had two eyes.

[][][][][][] "Your new eye has been installed. How does it feel?"

[][][][][][] She tested it, moving her head side to side and keeping her eyes still. "It's kinda weird," she remarked.

[][][][][][] "In what way?"

[][][][][][] "It feels... it doesn't feel bad, but it doesn't feel like I'm moving it at all. There's this whirring noise."

[][][][][][] "That is normal. Anything else?"

[][][][][][] "It's... it feels like... like I'm looking through someone else's eye."

[][][][][][] "If that is all, then there is nothing wrong. You will get used to it." He put away his tools. "Come, it is time for dinner."

[][][][][][] She swung her legs over the ledge and walked with him into the next room.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She lifted her eyes and noticed for the first time that Bubbles was looking at her quizzically.

[][][][][][] Oops. "Sorry, Bubbles."

[][][][][][] "No, it's... it's okay." Still, she looked a bit unnerved.

[][][][][][] Blossom shrugged, and glanced at the page. "Hey, is that... Mojo?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles moved her hand away from the page. Mojo's furry features were beginning to form. She stared at it.

[][][][][][] "Do you remember drawing that?"

[][][][][][] She looked up. "...kinda."

[][][][][][] "Weird." She shook her head gently. "It's all right. I don't mind."

[][][][][][] Bubbles grinned nervously, but finished Mojo's head. He was laughing maniacally.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She could see for miles around up here; the cityscape was amazing. She scratched the back of her head. It's been such a long time. Since she had felt at ease. Since she had peace.

[][][][][][] "It's kinda unnerving," she muttered.

[][][][][][] And then her moment of peace was broken. Something brought her attention to the corner, just down the street from the building atop which she was sitting. A shady transaction. Even from where she sat, she could see the money... and the drugs.

[][][][][][] With a quick thrust, she hopped off the building, and spiraled down to the street below, speeding towards the two of them menacingly. "Hey! Drop 'em!!"

[][][][][][] The buyer threw his hands up and let go of the packs he had bought, but the dealer lunged past the corner, trying to get away.

[][][][][][] Briefly, Buttercup stopped, burned the drugs on the sidewalk with her heat rays, before flying again, after the dealer. The dealer had a plan, and shot an open palm at her, spraying a fine powder into the air.

[][][][][][] Minutes later, with the white powder brushed off, she dragged him into the police station, and they booked him without delay.

[][][][][][] The Chief of Police came up to thank her in person. "Thanks for your help, Buttercup. I hate these druggies. He's been selling this 'Shroud' for about three months in its current form. This new drug, pretty potent. People been coming in all jacked up from it. What about the buyer?"

[][][][][][] "I burned the drugs, but he got away."

[][][][][][] He clicked his tongue. "No matter, he'll probably try again somewhere else. Good work. This one's been hell dealing with on the street. Spreading like wildfire amongst the poorer districts." He was implying the destroyed sector. She rolled her eyes, and he kept on: "Oh, but it's easy enough to spot once it's in the system, though. Delirium, dementia, synesthesia, emotional overload... People going crazy on street corners. Stuff like that is hard to miss." He regarded her with distant concern when she didn't reply. "Enough about that, though. Near everyone in the city's been wondering: Bubbles. You found her yet?"

[][][][][][] "Oh." He was asking about Bubbles. Guilt rose in her: the city still loved its heroes, despite it all. He probably wasn't exaggerating about the people. But should she tell him? There wasn't any harm, was there? "Yeah, I found her, she's back at home. She's... fine." The chief looked like he was going to say more, but she shook her head. He was making her feel awful. She needed to get back home. The guilt kept rising. She needed to talk to them. To her sisters. She had to make things right. She excused herself curtly and was in the skies before she knew she was even there.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] The silence was broken by Bubbles. "Buttercup!"

[][][][][][] She jumped up even as the "What?" left Blossom's lips and her arms swung forward, over Blossom's head, vaulting towards the window. Deftly, she opened the window just as something black and green shot through the space and into her arms. The tackle Buttercup gave should have knocked Bubbles across the room, but the metal arms rooted her in place.

[][][][][][] Her pupils were dilated. "...Forgot to slow down. Can't forget you."

[][][][][][] Bubbles pulled her to the floor gently. "Buttercup! What's wrong?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup fumbled for Bubbles' shoulder. "I was fighting crime... I'm so... You can't just..."

[][][][][][] "Buttercup, are you—I mean, you sound—" She looked at Blossom. "Something is very wrong... She... uh... sounds fuzzy."

[][][][][][] Blossom frowned. "Buttercup. Are you sick?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup shook her head, and gripped Bubbles' shirt tighter. "No doctors. No ambulance. Don't call... anyone."

[][][][][][] "Okay, all right. You'll be fine. No ambulance." Even as she tried to calm her sister down, she was beginning to cry. "Blossom... She's faint... Distant. I mean... like she's wobbly. It's hard to hear..."

[][][][][][] Buttercup's grip was so tight that she could hear the fabric ripping in her hand. She spoke loudly, almost yelling. "Sorry I'm quiet... When I beat the guy up... Maybe him... The guy had..." Heavy emotion rocked across her face. "Forget it! It's not... it's not important! You! Bubbles... sorry. I'm... didn't mean to..."

[][][][][][] She blinked even as the water screwed up her vision. "I'm not mad at you. Just stay quiet. We're gonna help you. Okay?"

[][][][][][] She nodded weakly and let go. "...yeah." She rubbed her forehead, staring at the ceiling. "Oh, man." After a moment, she simply passed out.

[][][][][][] "Buttercup!"

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] They took turns watching her, making sure she was okay through the night. Blossom spent her time in deep concentration.

[][][][][][] What could it all mean? What sort of substance could do this to a Powerpuff Girl? And so quickly? Maybe Buttercup would start muttering again... The information was limited, but it could be used. Dissect it, make it work. Some sort of drug dealer, obviously. And it must be a new substance, developed recently, there was no way it had been available before this year...

[][][][][][] As midnight approached, Blossom rubbed her eyes. She shook her head, and forced herself to relax. It was like a weight lifted in her mind as she stopped concentrating. She was tired. Too tired to keep going. It was Bubbles' turn, and her sister rose from the bed as she turned her head just to look.

[][][][][][] "I didn't really sleep." Bubbles said wryly, though her concern was still obvious in her reddened eyes.

[][][][][][] And without stopping, she spoke again. "Don't feel bad."

[][][][][][] Blossom chuckled. "Okay, occasionally, I'd like to chip into our conversations."

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked at her with sudden seriousness. "Blossom. You're fast."

[][][][][][] "What do you mean?"

[][][][][][] "It's fine... but... just now, this last hour? Only in the last few minutes... It was like you let me in..."

[][][][][][] "Huh?"

[][][][][][] "You weren't helping me sleep..." Bubbles said it gently, making sure Blossom knew she took no offense. "Like a waterfall... sometimes I got... uh... splashed. 'Buttercup' happened a lot. I happened a lot too. No!" Bubbles held up her hands. "No. Just relax, Blossom. Don't worry about it. Please. Just take a nap. You've earned it. I know you have. I really do. And you really need it."

[][][][][][] Blossom shook her head heavily. Bubbles was so right that it made her even more sleepy. The bed was just the right sort of soft...

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She was using her easel and had switched from a sheet of paper to a frame with a new canvas over it. The watercolors danced across the page vibrantly as she transferred the images from her mind to the cloth. It was... slow, and holding her arms up made it feel kind of tiring. Finally, her arms slumped, and she looked down. Her flesh brushed against the metal. It came up at the merest trace of thought, floating before her. She put the brush against the metal hand and it held. It bobbed up and down at her behest. It still looked so strange... but the feeling was almost natural.

[][][][][][] Carefully, she took the brush in the bionic arm, and traced it over the page. It was... easier. A lot easier. She kept painting, now a little faster. Easier. The arm pulled back just enough to dab the pallet, wipe off the excess, and then brought itself back to the page. She smiled.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She was still painting when Buttercup woke up. She lay there, groggy She still felt awful, and she heard the sound of the brush sliding across the paper, and turned, and saw Bubbles, and hardly noticed the other arms moving. She rolled her head back to the pillow, and breathed softly. She was already feeling like crap... no sense dragging Bubbles into it. Let her paint, she decided. I'm fine.

[][][][][][] The sound of painting continued. Buttercup just listened, and let her mind float inside her head. She had been so mean to her. She wanted to do something positive, but...

[][][][][][] "Who needs ya!" She jumped up and out of the school, shaking her head to clear it of the debris that got stuck in her hair. The monster, visible even from where she was, towered over most of the buildings, and was sharpening its claws against them. Its alligator maw opened and let out a screeching roar, and stomped rapidly on the ground while propped on its tail. She could hear people screaming. As she shot forward, it turned and swung at her in the air. It was fast, and the blow connected. Her body skidded against the ground, breaking the asphalt in the middle of the road. Finally, she limply rolled to a stop. One arm moved out, then the other, and pushed her up, glaring at the beast as it comically danced in place and clapped its scaly hands, and ran towards her.

[][][][][][] Her anger still flaring, as the monster reared towards her, she shot up, right through its neck like a supersonic bullet. Blood poured from its throat and it clamped its palm over one side of the hole, as Buttercup circled and shot through it again. But still her rage was not abated, and as the beast began to fall, she latched on to its body and plowed her fists into its collarbone, shattering it. But she kept going, even as the beast stopped breathing. Her arms moved faster, and she grit her teeth, clenched her eyes, and screamed powerfully as she ripped into its dead body.

[][][][][][] Her rage was not gone. She threw her arms up and smashed her hands into the soft flesh of the beast, letting out all her anger at once. Those that had been in the immediate vicinity watched her as she stopped beating it, breathing hard, as the beat in her chest grew faster and faster as she kept seething. She looked up at them—all these people—staring at her—she glared—reporters—they were there to expose her—her rage was a rating—she hated all of it—so much that she couldn't breathe—barely think.

[][][][][][] She barely remembered what happened next. Little flashes, here and there, and it was... bad. Real bad.

[][][][][][] She lifted her arm and wiped her dry forehead. Where was she supposed to channel her anger?

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] "Buttercup?"

[][][][][][] She turned her head. Bubbles, holding the paintbrush in one of her metal arms, was staring at her. The arm set the brush down on the easel, and Bubbles walked over, kneeling by the sofa. "Are you okay?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup stared at her, searching for something to say. She wasn't prepared to talk to her. What would she say? After this long, this much torment, this much pain, all that they had been through... what did she say?

[][][][][][] "Thanks," she said—in the end, that was all she could say.

[][][][][][] Bubbles smiled. "It's okay, Buttercup. As long as you're okay, I'm glad."

[][][][][][] Buttercup smiled, a little less enthusiastically. She glanced over her shoulder, at the easel. "What are you drawing?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles reached towards it with one of the long bionic arms before she could stop herself, and it suddenly dropped to the floor with a deft thud, and Buttercup saw Bubbles staring back at her, hands over her mouth, looking afraid and guilty.

[][][][][][] She blinked and tried to understand what just happened. Bubbles was... afraid. Afraid she would hate her? Was that it?

[][][][][][] "Hey, it's cool. They're your arms. You can do what you want with 'em." She still didn't like looking at them.

[][][][][][] Bubbles' eyes turned away, and then she looked back at her easel. The arm she had used before twitched, and tried to rise, but went limp.

[][][][][][] She snorted. "Never mind." She rolled over in irritation, and stared at the couch cushions. "I'm fine. Go to sleep."

[][][][][][] After a moment of silence, Buttercup pushed her face into the cushions, grimacing. Oh man... I did it again! What the hell is wrong with me?!

[][][][][][] Bubbles sat on the floor, sadly, and then stood, joining what looked like a sleeping Blossom on her bed.

[][][][][][] The communications breakdown had, however, not gone unnoticed in its severity and volume. Blossom opened her real eye, and glanced over her shoulder at her. Be strong, Bubbles. We can try again tomorrow.

[][][][][][] Bubbles turned, meeting her eye in sadness. She sniffled and lay down, pressing her forehead against Blossom's back, whispering, "Thank you."

[][][][][][] Blossom smiled even in the sadness she felt. As she looked up past the headboard, she could see the easel that Bubbles had been working on. Buttercup—she had even drawn the scars—plowing through a giant monster; Bubbles was slamming a metal arm into Mojo's shocked face; Blossom had a visor, much like Cyclops from that show "X-Men." And though she had seen Bubbles start off with vibrant colors, as the brushes danced across the page, all the colors were... weaker towards the bottom. Faded.

[][][][][][] She closed her eye slowly. They could start to fix things tomorrow.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She stretched, and she yawned, and rolled over.

[][][][][][] And then she had an up-close and personal view of the floor.

[][][][][][] It didn't hurt of course, but it was surprising nonetheless.

[][][][][][] She pushed herself up and shook her head vigorously. Her eyes rolled around the room. Morning. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and parted with a wet smack. She stood and stretched, popping the muscles in her neck as she rolled her head from side to side.

[][][][][][] Morning. She put her hand to her stomach, and tried to figure everything out at once.

[][][][][][] She turned. Bubbles. Asleep. The arms.

[][][][][][] She gasped. Last night. Why did she do that?

[][][][][][] How to make it better? Think.

[][][][][][] Think.

[][][][][][] She shook her head and took a step forward.

[][][][][][] Her foot touched something. One of the arms.

[][][][][][] Bubbles stirred and rolled over to see. She whispered. "Morning, Buttercup."

[][][][][][] "Mm—" She tried to speak and stopped. She looked away and thought. "Want to... help me make breakfast?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles smiled.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] A new day came with new ambitions. For her, it was the idea of change that made it possible to proceed. But the change was not to happen all at once; it had to be slow and progressive. Even as she opened her eyes, she was aware that the ones she hoped to change were not in the room. They had fallen asleep in the same room, but now that she was awake and opened her eyes to see, they weren't there anymore. Where did they go?

[][][][][][] As she breathed in, the smell of food caught her senses, and directed her out of her bedroom and downstairs, where she finally saw them: Bubbles and Buttercup; eating breakfast. Buttercup was smiling—albeit nervously—and Bubbles had a fairly dry smile, too.

[][][][][][] "Mornin' Bloss'," Buttercup called out. "Have some French toast! It's really good!"

[][][][][][] Bubbles had a mouth full of food, but she nodded assent.

[][][][][][] When she was properly seated at the table, she grabbed her fork and cut off a piece of the toast. It was dark golden-brown and sprinkled lightly with cinnamon and dribbled with the viscous goodness that was maple syrup. It looked good, and as it turned out, tasted delicious.

[][][][][][] "This is good," she chirped. She glanced at Bubbles and opened her mouth, but instead turned to Buttercup. "Your cooking's really improved."

[][][][][][] Buttercup blushed and looked away, scratching her head. "Actually... Bubbles... helped. A lot."

[][][][][][] Bubbles and Blossom shared a smile and kept eating, and soon all three of them were finished. Bubbles took the dishes and washed them by hand, and then put them into the drying rack with her metal arms.

[][][][][][] Buttercup watched her do this and nodded approvingly. She leaned in and whispered to Blossom, "She's really getting the hang of those, huh?"

[][][][][][] She smiled and told her, "They are her arms. She can do what she wants with them, right?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked at Blossom cautiously, and then at Bubbles.

[][][][][][] "It's okay, Buttercup. I can tell she isn't mad. She just need some support right now. Try to be nice, for her sake?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked down guiltily. After a moment of thought and silence, she drew a strong breath and let it out, and smiled. "Yeah." She looked away, but opened her mouth to speak. "He—hey, Bubbles?"

[][][][][][] She kept washing the dishes, but looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup's lips tightened as if unwilling to let the words come out, but she forced them apart. "I'm... sorry about... last night... and—and... well, everything, you know?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles faced forward, the tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Even though she had expected her to say it, it still made her happy to hear it. She put the last dish in the rack and turned around to face her.

[][][][][][] And the metal arms slammed carelessly into the drying dishes. She made an "oops" face, and looked over her shoulder, while Blossom and Buttercup stared in surprise. Finally, Bubbles turned to face them, grief stricken.

[][][][][][] Blossom's eyes turned towards Buttercup, trying to gauge whether she was upset by this.

[][][][][][] She was. "Come on! Can't you do—"

[][][][][][] Blossom quickly put a hand on her shoulder, and she went silent, staring back at her with wide eyes. She turned away abruptly, pursing her lips. Finally, stiffly, she opened her mouth and spoke. "It's cool. They're just plates. We can buy more."

[][][][][][] The smile Bubbles and Blossom shared this time was sad.

[][][][][][] "So what are we doing today?" Buttercup asked, as if to change the subject.

[][][][][][] Blossom looked at Bubbles.

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked back at her.

[][][][][][] Blossom nodded her head in Buttercup's direction.

[][][][][][] Bubbles took the hint, and tried to sound nonchalant as she spoke. "We could break stuff."

[][][][][][] Buttercup raised her head curiously, staring blankly at nothing.

[][][][][][] Bubbles looked over at her. "Like, let off some steam, you know?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked back at her with a strange sort of curious half-smile. "Man, it's like you're right inside my head."

[][][][][][] "Seriously?"

[][][][][][] "Wait, hang on. No." Blossom sat back, one hand in a halting gesture, the other pressed against her forehead.

[][][][][][] Buttercup turned to her. "What's wrong with breaking stuff? I mean, it's fun, and—"

[][][][][][] "How about we try to fix the holes we've already made in the house?"

[][][][][][] Buttercup folded her arms and looked away. "Man, it's a waste of time."

[][][][][][] "The house should look nice, just in case the Professor comes home."

[][][][][][] "Feh. He hasn't been home in ages."

[][][][][][] "He was home a couple months ago."

[][][][][][] Blossom and Buttercup turned their heads to Bubbles.

[][][][][][] She continued. "He was here... after you... went into your... uh..." She balked, looking away from them.

[][][][][][] Buttercup stared at her for another moment and then shrugged. "So he comes home every so often. Not like he's a frequent flyer or anything."

[][][][][][] "But he does come home?" It was more of a statement than a question.

[][][][][][] Buttercup sighed in restraint. "Look, even if we wanted to fix up the house, there's no way we could! There's no paint, no... no... uh..."

[][][][][][] "Plaster."

[][][][][][] "Yeah, that. We don't have any plaster or tools or—"

[][][][][][] "You have plastic."

[][][][][][] "We—huh?"

[][][][][][] "Where's Professor's credit card?"

[][][][][][] Bubbles blinked and turned to Buttercup.

[][][][][][] "It's... I have it. It's here."

[][][][][][] There was a very tense pause.

[][][][][][] Blossom narrowed her eyes. "You just don't want to have to work."

[][][][][][] Buttercup looked insulted. "What do you mean by that? You trying to say I'm lazy?"

[][][][][][] After a moment, Blossom nodded. "Yeah, I guess that is what I'm saying."

[][][][][][] Buttercup glared back at her for another second, then flew up to the bedroom and came back with a vinyl wallet, black, with a picture of a yellow flower on the front. She grumbled, "Make a list."

[][][][][][] Blossom half-grinned.

[][][][][][] Soon the door closed noisily, leaving the two of them to relax a little.

[][][][][][] Bubbles glanced at Blossom.

[][][][][][] Blossom smiled. "Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] She was in line, finally, sour and tapping her arm impatiently. In front, an elderly white man, wrinkled and withered, liver-spotted and gray. In his hand, a blue basket with the store's logo on the side. Every few seconds he would steal glances at her and at the load behind her.

[][][][][][] In line behind her, a woman in her late twenties wearing faded blue jeans, a green sweater and no makeup. A large bag of fertilizer, some seeds and a few bags of topsoil rested in her shopping cart.

[][][][][][] Buttercup barely noticed anything around her as she stood just in front of her hand truck. It was everything. Everything on the list. It filled the bed of the truck entirely. So much stuff. Plaster, tools, tape, paints, brushes, concrete mix, disposable coveralls... everything Blossom had written down.

[][][][][][] How much time had passed since she got into the store? She wasn't wearing a watch. It was some time around noon, by the looks of it. From there, she could see the sunlight coming through the double-doors leading outside. Too bright. Much too bright.

[][][][][][] She sighed.

[][][][][][] "Uh... Buttercup?"

[][][][][][] She looked up. The middle-aged fellow behind the counter was waving to her, trying to get her attention.

[][][][][][] She pulled her cart up but didn't speak. She was just waiting for it to be over.

[][][][][][] He scanned all the items on the bed of the hand truck, talking nervously as his hand-held scanner blipped up each item. "Looks like you're... getting ready for a major project or something. Right?" She turned her eyes towards him but didn't answer. "Right, okay, awesome. Concrete mix..." Blip. "There. That's everything. Your total is—"

[][][][][][] "Here." She pulled the card out and thrust it into his face. He took it from her. "Can I see some ID?" They stared at one another for another second. She narrowed her eyes just a little, and he swiped it quickly.

[][][][][][] Approved.

[][][][][][] The receipt printed and she signed it.

[][][][][][] She pulled the flatbed effortlessly out of the store and pulled it off to the side.

[][][][][][] In the gazebo by the entrance—the smoking pit—one of the employees called out, "You need some help getting' that home? We make deliveries, you know."

[][][][][][] "Nah, I got it," she told him offhandedly, as she crawled underneath and lifted it into the air.

[][][][][][] "Hey!" He dropped his cigarette and ran out into the parking lot, as if he could somehow catch her before she left. "You can't take that! We—"

[][][][][][] "I'm gonna bring it back, moron! Sheesh."

[][][][][][] Mouth agape, he watched her disappear past the trees. Breathlessly, he muttered, "Well, yes, I... suppose it's all right, I mean... she is Buttercup, after all, no... sense making a... huge fuss and all..." He trailed off, muttering to himself as he turned and walked back to the store.

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] Blossom took a card from the top of the deck and added it to her hand. "Your turn."

[][][][][][] "Erm..." Bubbles glanced from her cards to Blossom and back several times before she finally made her decision. "Do you have any... threes?"

[][][][][][] "Aw." She handed over three cards. Bubbles took them gingerly and made a book of four cards, setting it off to the side.

[][][][][][] She looked away and muttered, "Your turn."

[][][][][][] Blossom smiled and glanced at her cards.

[][][][][][] "Go Fish," Bubbles said automatically. Almost instantly, her eyes shot open.

[][][][][][] Blossom chuckled. "Don't worry. You'll get it."

[][][][][][] She whimpered. "But it's..."

[][][][][][] She reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I know it's hard, but if you keep working on it, eventually—"

[][][][][][] With a thunderous crash, a Mack truck fell out of the sky and fell, nose-first, into their driveway.

[][][][][][] At least that's what it sounded like. Buttercup appeared inside after a moment and then closed the door behind her. "I'm back. Where do you—"

[][][][][][] "Don't... DO... that." Blossom had thrown her arms around Bubbles instinctively, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. Bubbles eyed her with concern. She looked down at the floor, at the deck of cards, and slid away from her sister. She breathed heavily. "I just... Whew. It's been a little while. Let's... get everything inside."

[][][][][][] Bubbles smiled sheepishly and nodded.

[][][][][][] Buttercup stared at them blankly for a moment, and shrugged. "Sure, why not."

[][][][][][][][][][][][] * * *

[][][][][][] He sighed deeply through his nose. "Can't be done," he answered curtly.

[][][][][][] She looked up, nearly glaring. "What?"

[][][][][][] He tapped the paper on the table with one finger. "Your proposal? It's unacceptable. It can't be done. At least, not that fast."

[][][][][][] "Mister Wilson," she began, staring at him incredulously, but then seemed unsure how to proceed. "What do you mean, 'it can't be done?'"

[][][][][][] "It's English, Mayor. The only language I know how to speak."

[][][][][][] Anyone else would have been sorely angered by this, but Miss Bellum kept her cool. "Never in the history of G.U.A.R.D. has there been a problem fulfilling a deadline like this. A monster would destroy a building and you would have it fixed practically overnight. So I'm finding it difficult to hear that you 'can't' do something. What aren't you telling me? Did something happen to G.U.A.R.D.?" She paused, waiting for him to reply. "Well?" He simply stared back at her, a business-like grin across his lips. She read his expression like a filthy magazine article.

[][][][][][] Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed, all in one motion. "All right... what are your demands?"

Previous: Part Four - Rapid Third Eye Movement
Next: Part Six - Sliding Walls
Table of Contents
Last edited by Rough Giraffe on Thu Dec 17, 2009 8:46 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Blood Lord » Sat Dec 12, 2009 3:36 pm

Very good.

I liked it.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Sat Dec 12, 2009 8:28 pm

the minor thread code errors are due to RuffDraft posting this during his submarine being out in the world right now, but hey, folks, give us some specific thoughts. You're so TART, Blord, come one, give me some meaty descriptions.
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Blood Lord » Sun Dec 13, 2009 12:43 pm

You're so TART, Blord, come one, give me some meaty descriptions.

Blord... Well at least you have found a shorter name for me.

Meaty descriptions... K, lets see...

I find the write style of this story to be annoying as hell. Its like its somewhere between script, and folk tale. I find it hard at times to tell who in the hell the section is referring to, or what the section is even about. Some spots (previous updates) have had very little detail, something I notice that was changed in this one. The way its presented annoys me, all of these little sentence like structures, not being able to tell who is speaking, some areas that had to be reread in order to get a clear sense of what the hell is going on, and the unnecessary size of the update.

HOWEVER. Its so fascinating to read. Its so unique. Despite its style or its wording, I can clearly picture the girls in my mind. Its as if I'm standing right there in the room and watching this unfold. The wording is perfect, just right where I have a sense of understanding what is going on, but it is not creating a picture for me. I'm creating it. It leaves just enough to set up a background, a backbone for me to understand the events, then it leaves the rest up to me to create the picture. For example age and dress, although not important story factors, are never really established. Yet every time you mention Buttercup I think of this picture, with some scarring on her. Bubbles for some reason is still in her night gown, and Blossom is just wearing a faded version of her uniform. I can not remember if you established it, or if I just want to remember it that way. I do recall that you have some pictures of them on your DA site.

In this update, I smiled at this part:
She was in line, finally, sour and tapping her arm impatiently. In front, an elderly white man, wrinkled and withered, liver-spotted and gray. In his hand, a blue basket with the store's logo on the side. Every few seconds he would steal glances at her and at the load behind her.

[][][][][][] In line behind her, a woman in her late twenties wearing faded blue jeans, a green sweater and no makeup. A large bag of fertilizer, some seeds and a few bags of topsoil rested in her shopping cart.

[][][][][][] Buttercup barely noticed anything around her as she stood just in front of her hand truck. It was everything. Everything on the list. It filled the bed of the truck entirely. So much stuff. Plaster, tools, tape, paints, brushes, concrete mix, disposable coveralls... everything Blossom had written down.

[][][][][][] How much time had passed since she got into the store? She wasn't wearing a watch. It was some time around noon, by the looks of it. From there, she could see the sunlight coming through the double-doors leading outside. Too bright. Much too bright.

[][][][][][] She sighed.

[][][][][][] "Uh... Buttercup?"

[][][][][][] She looked up. The middle-aged fellow behind the counter was waving to her, trying to get her attention.

[][][][][][] She pulled her cart up but didn't speak. She was just waiting for it to be over.

[][][][][][] He scanned all the items on the bed of the hand truck, talking nervously as his hand-held scanner blipped up each item. "Looks like you're... getting ready for a major project or something. Right?" She turned her eyes towards him but didn't answer. "Right, okay, awesome. Concrete mix..." Blip. "There. That's everything. Your total is—"

[][][][][][] "Here." She pulled the card out and thrust it into his face. He took it from her. "Can I see some ID?" They stared at one another for another second. She narrowed her eyes just a little, and he swiped it quickly.


It was good, I liked it because I could see it based off of your own description, and my own personal experience. I could see the impatient Buttercup standing in the Home Depot waiting to get through the long line.

While the "paragraph" structure is annoying as hell to read, I also find it so damn addicting read. Because I have to know what happens next. I do not stop reading it until I'm finished with the update, I can't stop reading it until I'm done. Then when I hit the end of it I go "Damn, its already over". You have this "addictive quality" to your works. Wither it lines in the story, the imagination, the style, I don't really know. I do know that you have a damn good story here. One that keeps me fixed on it more than comic updates. Its unique. Its different. Its a enjoyable dark twist on a happy little cartoon.

I do get the idea that even though the girls are united again, they don't seem to be as close as they once were. I do understand that it is time that created this gap, and time will be required to heal it. Buttercup seems to be the black sheep. Blossom and Bubbles seem to have regained much of their sisterhood, but they are struggling to deal with the ill-tempered Buttercup who probably needs as much or more compassion and help than Bubbles needs/needed.

The story is... one massive hook. It always keeps me interest and waiting for the next update.

I do hope that as you go on, that Bubbles and Blossom leave the house at some point. I'm excited to see the reaction of the people of Townsville, and the Professor's reaction towards the girls.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Sun Dec 13, 2009 3:53 pm

you give me great joy with this post Blordy.

A bit of a notation on this one, you are right, Buttercup is a FORCE to be RECKONED. But we also need some division in that sisterhood going on with the less angry of the two, hahahaha. But not yet! Not yet! The world's gotta get back up and running for the girls, for Blossom and then her sisters by extension. They just need a push in the right direction.

Regarding the structure, this is pretty much precisely my point when RuffDraft and I pick certain words: We want you to grip the picture as you see it best while still driving a defining movement of ideas. I without looking cannot myself remember if we changed their clothes or not. It nags at me in one way, yet does not in another, you know? Because it only KINDA matters.

'Tis the motto I've come to understand for writing: leave the adjective barf for an actual drawing artist to make visually rather than waste a HUGE amount of time letting us know how neat the spangles are on their clothing. So me and mah boy RD rock it up looking to make it cool. Et cetra.

We're deep in the meaty bowels of character development, and soon all that will be unleashed in the girls' first real adventure in years. And yes: first, of course, Blossm has to come back to life all the way.
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Mathias » Tue Dec 15, 2009 8:59 pm

BR = Best wRiter.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Rough Giraffe » Thu Dec 17, 2009 9:53 pm

Whoo, I'm back. Lemme get in a little stretch... aaaaaAAAAugh!!

Nice.

BL, I thank you for your massive praise. That is EXACTLY what I'm talking about. You're dead-on about the structure in that it is not enough to form a full, coherent picture. We're leaving most of it to the reader.

When I read a book, I tend to get hung up on minuscule details. It tends to take away from the story, at least a little bit. For example, the above scene with Miss Bellum and Mr. Wilson could be done like this:

[][][][][][] Mr. Watson held the papers in his hands; his pale-blue eyes, framed by flush, lively skin, scanned the thin document briefly. Several seconds later, he sighed deeply through his nose and dropped the papers on to the pristine mahogany desk. "Can't be done," he stated.

[][][][][][] Had she been less of a woman--indeed less of the flawless, business-like lady that she was--her jaw would have dropped. Sitting there in the scarlet office chair, matching her vermillion v-neck cardigan, Miss Bellum looked up at him, face almost completely obscured by her tremendous volume of hair. "What?" The tone was not friendly.

[][][][][][] He leaned forward as his chair let out a groan of disrepair, and he tapped the sheet with one finger. "Your proposal? It's unacceptable. It can't be done. At least, not that fast." He relaxed backwards, enjoying the sound of the chair creaking into his ear, and of the cloth slithering against his expensive suit.

[][][][][][] "Mister Wilson," she began, staring at him incredulously, unsure how to proceed. Her arms folded on the table; her body language suggested that she was trying to remain calm. "What do you mean, 'it can't be done?'"

[][][][][][] His fingers twitched dismissively. "It's English, Mayor. The only language I know how to speak."

[][][][][][] Anyone else might have been sorely angered by this, but she paused, and spoke with no sign of malice. "Never in the history of G.U.A.R.D. has there been a problem fulfilling a deadline like this. A monster would destroy a building and you would have it fixed practically overnight. So I'm finding it difficult to hear that you 'can't' do something. What aren't you telling me? Did something happen to G.U.A.R.D.?" She paused, waiting for him to reply; during that time, she could have redirected a satellite microwave beam to the freezer in her office and heated several Hot Pockets or developed an armistice between Israel and Palestine that would last for centuries.

You get the idea. Boring, longwinded, etc. Leaves almost nothing to the imagination.

Oh, and Mathias: Yes, BR and I make a great team, don't we?

Oh well...
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Fri Dec 18, 2009 12:48 am

right, too much description gets us caught up in the picture you want to make rather than the one the reader ends up making anyway. fun metaphor at the end, though.

And hey, Mathias: RuffDraft is the one doing the word by word WRITING, I give him the plot concept and then after I see the passages he writes I edit heavily and sometimes add things but it is originally his passages that I edit so hey credit where it is due damn it all or DOES EQUALITY MEAN NOTHING THESE DAYS
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最後の撃は。。。切ない。Puff Most Epic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Shadowed State of Mind » Fri Dec 18, 2009 2:23 am

Wait, he writes your ideas and concepts? I figured that if its your idea you should write it instead. Surely you have the skill.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Fri Dec 18, 2009 3:17 am

Shadowed State of Mind wrote:Wait, he writes your ideas and concepts? I figured that if its your idea you should write it instead. Surely you have the skill.


A lot of individual passages are in fact written by me but since RuffDraft and I first talked about the story he has insisted on writing the majority of the work. He will attest to the fact that he has denied me the ability to write several passages myself, opting instead to have me direct him through it.

Try and see in the story which parts I wrote :3
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby Mathias » Fri Dec 18, 2009 4:39 am

Don't you write Bleedman's stuff? The post is still relevant, just not to this topic.
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Re: Puff Most Epic

Postby BeeAre » Fri Dec 18, 2009 5:19 am

Mathias wrote:Don't you write Bleedman's stuff? The post is still relevant, just not to this topic.


Writing a comic and directing a novella employ different techniques :x
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