FAQing Hostile: Subcultural Mutant Otaku Versus the Mundanes Chapter 13 by Ian Ton (FAQing Hostile originally spawned by Twoflower) +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ At 7:58 AM, Eastern lowered standard time, Sherman's maintenance-and-synopsis system engaged. "Now checking electronic, digital, and analog systems," he murmured quietly to himself. The momentary flickering of the screens in the control room went unnoticed by B1FF, who was currently using the main display as a pillow. "Systems genki." "Now checking structural, mechanical, and drive systems," Sherman continued. The body of the tank began humming slightly as the engines warmed up. The main turret performed a test rotation of 2 degrees, too little to be felt by Vixen as she slept in her converted chair, and returned to center. "Systems genki." "Now checking ammunition, supplies, and equipment. Ammunition is 'sugoi.' Supplies are 'ma, neh.' We are missing one minivid player and three undefined disks from manifest." The AI paused while his error routines contemplated the situation. "Status report delayed pending review of today's schedule." "Now checking crew. Commander Hiroshima and B1FF are in the control room. Rachael is in the storage closet. Phreakachu and Dave are miss--" "PIKACHUUUU!" *ZAP* "AAUUuuuugghh!" "Phreakachu and Dave are on turret three, now re-entering the main hull. Crew accounted for." Pause. "Genki-status unconfirmed." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ At the bottom of a dune not far from the hulking tank, Evan groggily struggled to his feet, spluttering at the sand trying to invade his mouth. He groped around for his gascan, but it seemed to have hit him on the head and disappeared after his accidental tumble. *Blargle* "Stupid sand..." *Blurgle* "I now HATE Aladin." The ex-Ear wiped the sand from his eyes and stared blearily at the outline of the tank just ahead. "But not as much as Dave." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ 7:59 AM. "Synopsis and task review," Sherman said. "Strike Team Theta is investigating possible perpetrators of orbital strike against Otakuland. We are en route to New York City, then Seattle, then Otakuland West. Encrypted instructions from hiro will be time-released in sixteen hours, eight minutes, twenty-one point three four zero two one seconds. Fourth Impact Contingency Plan has been decrypted and filed for command reference. FAQ decryption project still suspended. Printing previously completed pages for Dave." A dot-matrix printer began churning out three pages of sparse text. The noise made Vixen's ears twitch, which made her immediately bolt out of her chair, which made her bang her head on a very large hangover. Vixen sat back down, slowly. "Guhhh..." "Systems review update: missing vidplayer and disks nonessential. Proceeding with mission." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Evan staggered forward, his bloodshot eyes shielded from the rising sun by the mountainous silhouette of the Otaku tank. "Daaave...," he growled. "This better not be a figment of my dehydration. You better be in there, so I can make you sorry you're in there." Evan could feel a steady pounding in his chest. Vengeance was close. As he thought of various icky, drawn-out, Martika-inspired forms of torture, his heart began pounding even harder. So much harder, in fact that the sand beneath his feet seemed to be vibrating. "My head is humming with the song of your doom, Dave!" Step by step, inch by inch... now the sand was humming, too. Even the tank seemed to be rattling with the noise in Evan's head. He stood before an access ladder and reached out a shaking hand. +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ 8:00 AM. "Engine warm-up complete. Drive systems engaging. We now return to our regularly scheduled programs." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ The rumble that had been building and building suddenly broke into a mechanical shriek as the tank peeled out. Its massive treads tossed up a sudden storm of sand and dust, knocking Evan flat on his back and burying him beneath a fine, silty layer. By the time he had regained his senses, the tank was already chugging away at top speed, disappearing into the morning's horizon. "Da..." *Blargle* "Dav..." *Blargle* "Dammit!" Evan finally managed. He sat up and began pounding the ground with his fists. "Walt Dammit! Gimme a Love-Bugging break!" *Crunch* "Ow!" He suddenly clutched the hand that had just blindly pounded something lying in the sand. It was a very hard something. Gingerly, he picked it up and glanced at it. It appeared to be a minivid player, slightly damaged, though not as damaged as his fingers currently were. "What the..." He looked at it curiously, then squinted after the vanished vehicle. "Hmm." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Dave peeked cautiously into the command room. Vixen was slouched by the firing controls, a frosty Calpis can pressed against her forhead, while B1FF stood stretching by the main screen. No sign of Phreakachu. Dave breathed a sigh of relief. It was a big tank, but he'd run into the pissed-off pokemon sooner or later. He just didn't want to do it now. Vixen caught sight of the boy lurking in the hatchway. "Don't just stand there, newbie," she said with simple irritation. "Get in here and clean up your mess." Dave blinked. "My mess? But I--" "She me4n5 y0ur pr1nt-0uts, d00d," B1FF said, handing the thin sheaf to him. "Th3s3 w3r3 w4iting 4 U." "Thanks, B1FF," he said, taking them. He looked at the first page, and his eyes widened. "Hey, this is--" "Sherman, are we still en route and on schedule?" "Yes, Ms. Hiroshima." "Hey, Vixen, this is--" "What's between us and New York, Sherman?" "Accessing. The only major habitation until New York is TAFKAW, 'The Area Formerly Known as Washington.' TAFKAW is primarily controlled by AOL, but enforcement is handled by the Golden Wing Nut Triad tribe, which follows the tenets of Hong Kong cinema." "Hey, Vixen, the FAQ--" "Hmm... AOL isn't a direct enemy of ours, though a couple of their subscribers are. Still, we've never tangled with the Golden Wing Nut Triad, so maybe they'll ignore us." "C4n we g0 4r0und th3m, s1s?" "Not without losing time. Double check the main guns-- we may have to bluster our way through." "Hey, I think I've found the sec--" "I'm going to try one more time to speed up hiro's little surprise package. Sherman, could you--" Dave gave up and shouted. "VIXEN!" She glanced over at him. "Oh, yeah. You, newbie, grab Rachael and go check out the store room, see if we have anything we can use for leverage in bartering. I wanna know for sure that we come out ahead in any deals with other tribes." Dave stormed forward and waved his printouts under her nose. "I'm TRYING to TELL you that I've FOUND the secret of the FAQ!" Vixen's eyes narrowed and glared at him along the length of the suddenly offending papers. Dave backed up cautiously. "Er, at least, I think I've found something awfully, relatively important..." "PIKA!" Phreakachu bounded into the room and hopped up on Vixen's chair. It glowered at Dave and swished its tail with a pointedly electric crackle. Dave turned a paler shade of white and backed up further. "Uh, I'll tell you later. When we're not so busy. GottagetRachaelandcheckthestocksVixenbye." He bolted out the other door. "That's Commander Vixen to you, newbie!" the blue-haired woman yelled after him. Grumbling, she sat down at one of Sherman's terminals and began banging away at the keyboard. "D00d, Phr34k4chu," B1FF said. "Wh4t th3 ph0ck w4s th4t all 4b0ut?" "Pikachu pi pika pi chu." "W3ll, 1f U w3r3 try1ng 2 sc4re h1m, I th1nk U d1d 1t." "Chu. Kachu pi pika pika chu pika?" "N0, d00d, I h4v3n't c'n y0ur W4tchm4n. W3r3 U us1ng 1t 4ft3r th3 p4rty l4st n1te?" "Pi... pikachu." "H3ll, d00d, 1f U c4n't r3m3mb3r, Y sh0uld I?" "Chu." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ A moment or two of panicked sprinting and Dave found himself in one of the tank's shielded cupolas. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he remembered that he held the beginnings of the FAQ's secret message in his hands and started to hyperventilate. Eagerly he turned the pages, speaking aloud the holy words written thereupon. "You could be watching anime right now..." "... newbie!" "Wanna know what Gendo really said to Ritsuko at the end of Eva?" If Dave could have seen himself at the moment, he might have been cheered by the fact that he was now, for the first time in his life, bigsweating. Bigsweating with extra angry- forehead-vein action, no less. Rachael could see it, standing unnoticed as she was right in front of him, but being Goth, she wasn't cheered by much of anything (although veins were a good place to start). She tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Dave, not that I care or anything, but Vixen wants us to do inventory. Wanna come down to the storeroom with me?" He looked up, feeling a little numb now. "Too soon. Sherman stopped too soon. That's all." "What, Dave?" Dave folded the print-outs and stuffed them in his pocket. "...Whatever." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ The storage room sat low in the hull, right between Sherman's tread systems. When it was well stocked, as it was now, the room was a cramped maze of poorly lit corners, creaking boxes, and moaning walls. "It's so nostalgiac down here," Rachael sighed. "Just like Club Night with my tribe used to be. Less smoke, though." Dave did not respond. He was busy counting. "Let's see: we have 88 area-effect grenades, check. Thirteen Golgo globes, check. Six blue submarines (miniature, squeaky), check. A crate of Kraft Cheese-and-Macross 7, check..." "Not that I got to go to many Club Nights before the Ears came," she confessed. "I had just finished my courses on lurking and shoegazing, and I was about to start training in the ultimate Gothic skill." Dave looked up, curious. "Oh? What's that?" Rachael leaned in closer, too close for his comfort. "Vamping," she breathed. "Are you okay, Rachael? Your face is twitching." "I'm batting my eyes, you, you... wannabe!" She turned away in a huff. "Why don't you just make your eyes big and sparkly? And what's a wannabe?" "The lowest form of life. In my tribe, a person goes from wannabe, to Kindergoth, to Goth, and if they're really sinister yet apathetic, Gawthik as Fuck." "Oh." Dave slumped against a crate. "So, you're basically saying I'm a newbie, too." Hearing the sad tone to his voice made the girl turn back to him. Dammit, she thought, this vamping thing keeps backfiring. If only I hadn't lost my Gitane Demone CDs... "Dave, look, not that I care, or anything, but, everyone's got to start somewhere, right?" "Hm... you know, Rachael..." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Evan trudged along the deep tracks the tank had left behind. "I'm going to kill Dave. And his little tank, too." The sun was up and beginning to cook him like a very un-sugared funnel cake. In an effort to block a few of the more retina-searing rays, he held the salvaged minivid player up before his eyes. In so doing, his thumb chanced to strike upon a wee button marked "play." A sudden peal of trumpets and synthesizers startled him as the device started playing the first disk. Evan halted where he was and watched as images began flickering across the screen. They were bright, vivd, peculiar... but the music had a nice beat. "What the hell is this? Some kind of Otaku junk?" He watched a little more. "This isn't 'Tailspin.' And what gibberish is this theme song in?" He listened closely. Wait a minute-- there. There was some English. " 'You get burning,' huh?" Evan resumed his trudging, this time with his eyes on the tiny screen he held in his hands. "Well, at least you got that right, sister." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ "You know, Rachael, you're right! I mean, Vixen didn't start off knowing everything there was to know, did she? Even if she does have a really cool and actually Japanese- sounding name. At some point, she watched 'Grave of the Fireflies' for the first time and cried just like everybody else!" "I'm sorry, Dave, but Ms. Hiroshima did not," Sherman's voice suddenly interjected, startling Dave and Rachael both. They spotted a speaker set in the ceiling. "She didn't?" Dave asked weakly. "No. She cried at the end of 'Gall Force.' " "Oh. Well, still, there you go! She was once a newbie. All I have to do is take my love of anime to the next level. I must rise above mere fandom! I must be like Godai in my dedication to a higher purpose! I must be like Ryouga in my resolve! I must be like Arctic Anime in my absolute quest to bring 'Kimagure Orange Road' to the people no matter how ungrammatical and mistimed my early subs!" "You must be getting there already," Rachael said, "because I don't have the slightest clue to what all those things are." Dave could sense a victory pose coming on. "The clues have been provided! For the power of anime, for the honor of Otakuland! For the FAQ!" A trimphant fist, fingers spread in a V, launched skyward! And into a low-hanging bulkhead. "Forgot I was in a tank." "...," offered Rachael, unconciously channeling the spirits of the manga she had never read. "Come on, let's finish counting this pocky. I have shows to watch!" +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Hours passed by in a narrative blur... B1FF spent the better part of the afternoon checking and loading Sherman's howitzers, mortars, cannons, launchers, and catapults. Being a mechanically minded guy, he didn't mind polishing guns; being a hentai, he was a little chuffed that the guns being polished were not his. Phreakachu rigged a hammock between turrets three and four and sat swaying in the open air as the tank rolled along. A margarita would have been ideal, but since margarita mix had been monopolized by the Taco Hellboys, the electric rat settled for just adding a little mescaline to the Cuervo. "Pikaaaaaaaaaa..." Vixen paced back and forth in the command room, pausing now and again to practice her quickdraw by whirling around and bringing her machine pistols to bear on some unoffensive bolt or rivet. She had been unable to unlock hiro's instructions. She had been unable to find any hints of Otakuland West on the map. She had been unable to get the theme song from Tenchi in Tokyo out of her head. These facts contributed to a slowly growing need for catharsis through combat. Dave watched some Maison. Rachael watched Dave watch some Maison. She was able to convince him, in her most artfully apathetic voice, that she was watching him watch Maison because she had nothing better to do. She did not necessarily convince herself, but in addition to adopting the ankh, Goths were also dabblers in denial. Everyone was thus well rested when the Golden Wing Nut Triad started shelling them just north of TAFKAW. +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ "Incoming," Sherman announced calmly. *BOOOOOMMM* The sound of the explosion reverberated through the tank, but Sherman kept rolling smoothly. B1FF scrambled for a gunnery chair. "H0ly 5hit, d00d! S1s, w3'v3 g0t c0mp4ny!" Vixen grabbed the periscope and began searching for their attackers. "Sherman, why didn't we get any sort of proximity alert?" "I'm sorry, Ms. Hiroshima, but I was unable to get a lock on their artillery. Incoming." *BOOOOOMMM* Vixen peered through the scope. "Where are they? Dammit, I--" Her view was suddenly obscured by a yellow, fuzzy blur. "PIKA!" The pokemon began waving its paws and babbling into the lens. "Pikapikachupika--" "No, you are not tripping, Phreakachu!" Vixen shouted back via intercom. "We really are being shot at. Now get out of the way!" "Pika! Pikachu!" "Trailers?" Her mind raced a little quicker than the pokemon's was spinning. "Where do you see trailers, Phreakachu? Which direction?" "Kachu. Pi pika pi." "Sherman, did you get that?" "Yes, Ms. Hiroshima. Adjusting course and heading. Incoming." *BOOOOOMMM* *BOOOOOMMM* "h4! L0uz-e sh0ts, d00dz! U l00z!" "No, not lousy shots. Warning shots." Vixen closed the scope. Grabbing a rifle and slinging it over her shoulder, she made for the hatch at the top of the turret. "B1FF, get Dave and Rachael and give them something they can shoot. Sherman, standby to fire on my say-so. I'm going topside." Once outside, Vixen found a very stressed Phreakachu, eyes wide but undilated, clinging to the periscope casing. Evening was coming on, and they were travelling through a long stretch of burnt-out, sandblasted subdivisions. Suburban Baltimore hadn't looked so pleasant in decades. "Where?" she asked it. Phreakachu raised a paw and pointed to a low rise topped with the husk of a split-level ranch house. "Pika." No sooner had the house been pointed out, then a red flash jumped from the vicinity of its roof. A bare second passed. *BOOOOOMMM* "Pikaaaa!" "Calm down," Vixen advised. "I heard the explosion, but no whistling. They're not using shells." Phreakachu, a pill-laden paw half way to its soon-to-be-chilling mouth, looked at her as though she had suddenly developed blonde hair. "Pikachu?" The periscope intercom crackled. "S1s, w3'r3 r34dy d0wn h3r3. Wh4t's th3 st0ry?" Vixen grabbed the business end of the scope and forcibly twisted it to look at the hill. "See that house, Sherman? Put a round through its roof." "Yes, Ms. Hiroshima." "C0v3r yr e4rz!" Vixen and Phreakachu held on tightly as Sherman's primary turret adjusted, aimed, and fired. *DOKAAAAAAANN* There was a very satisfying backrush of wind, and the top of the house obligingly exploded in a sudden burst of fireworks. In the mock-daylight provided by the blaze, the otaku could see panic-stricken figures dashing for safety. "S1s, I g0t s0m3 j3rk 0n th3 r4di0 4sking 2 t4lk th1ngs 0ver." She smiled and tossed back her blue hair. "Thought that might change their approach." +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Dave had never even heard of the Golden Wing Nut Triad tribe before, let alone met any of them. To his eyes, half of them looked like Jusenkyo escapees-- lots of Chinese dresses, long tunics, wicker hats. The other half looked oddly like police detectives-- suits, ties, loafers. Vixen, with a smugly grinning B1FF at her back, confronted one of the latter who stepped forward to address them. "I am Fond Lee, of the mighty Golden Wing Nut," the well-dressed man said. "Your tank-fu is not pig-dung, but I disagree with the burning you have caused upon my house." "You fired first, baka!" Vixen growled back. Rachael, standing by Dave on the prow of the tank, leaned over to whisper. "Psst, Dave." "What?" "What's wrong with the way that guy talks?" "What do you mean?" "Look closer." Dave watched as Fond Lee laughed and continued talking. "I see now that you must be an Otaku," he was saying. "Forgive our skillful shooting with the cannon which just now you have melted. Frequently we shoot at people before we invite them." Dave realized that the man was practicing some sort of ventriloquism-- the motions of his mouth did not match the sounds coming from it. "They're self-dubbing?" Dave whispered in confusion. "How utterly, utterly horrible." "M1ght h3lp 1f U uz'd r33l 4mmo, d00d," B1FF suggested. "Ah, but if real bullets were used, could we do this without killing our good friends?" Fond Lee snapped his fingers. A firefight immediately broke out around him. The suited individuals reached into their jackets and produced a forest of 9mm pistols, which they pointed at each other's heads and fired crazily. The more strangely dressed people began doing cartwheels around them and kicking at each other, occasionally tossing small grenades that produced a lot of noise and no shrapnel. The smell of gunpowder was instantly overpowering. "We know the Way of Lee, Li, Woo, and Fat," he explained. "For many years we have kept this place boldly free with our stunts which we do ourselves and that the untrained should tremblingly avoid." "You use a lot of blanks," Vixen mused. Fond Lee bowed. "You have understood." "What a fucking waste of cordite." The Wing Nut looked up, pained. "But, is this not the way of your own Beat Takeshi?" "Who?" Behind them, Dave grabbed the FAQ and began paging through it hurriedly. "Takeshi Kitano," Fond Lee insisted. "From the land where ninjas are. 'Sonatine?' 'Fireworks?' " "I don't know those series," Vixen said. Dave found an entry and tried to cut in. "Uh, Vixen, I think he's talking about--" "They are not series, they are films, otaku-person. Live action with excellent stunts. Have you not seen 'City Hunter: The Movie,' by Holy Master Chan?" Vixen's teeth suddenly did a fine impression of a grinding wheel. "What did you say?" "0h, sh1t d00d," B1FF said and started clambering back onto the tank. "L3t's go." "Yes," Fond Lee pressed on, "the live action movie based on your very own popular 'City Hunter' cartoons. Have you not seen this masterpiece?" "Cartoons?" A rifle was unslung, the bolt cocked. *Chack-click* "What's wrong?" Rachael asked as B1FF began herding her and Dave towards a hatch. "S1s d1gs Ry0 Saeb4's sh00ting sk33lz. Sh3 t0tal-e h4ted th3 liv3-acti0n. Th1s d00d iz t0st." "No, not the cartoons, silly otaku!" Fond Lee laughed for the last time. "The wonderful film with Holy Mast--" *BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA* "How dare you shoot me in my favorite abdomen! I will hemorrhage greatly from this!" +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Otakuland Strike Team Theta pressed on towards New York. Somewhere many many miles behind them, in the very tracks they left behind, Evan stopped walking for the first time since the minivid player had started playing. He also blinked for the first time in four hours. He had completely watched the first and second disks that had been loaded into the player. And just a moment ago he had finished watching the third. "Wha... wha... what!? That's it? Eighteen episodes? No! There's got to be more! They killed Gai in the third fricking episode! When will there be revenge? Who's gonna finish the war? Where are the rest of the disks?" Evan shook the minivid player at the sky. "Damn you, Dave! What happens next!?" +_+_+_+_+_+_+_+ Author's comments: My infinite gratitude to Clint Milton, Mark Poa, Assassin, and those other folks on the FAQing Hostile ML whose suggestions have (hopefully) kept this chapter on track. Thank them, blame me. Does anybody else find it difficult to type B1FF's dialogue quickly? The in-joke for this chapter (Lucky 13) is, of course, stolen from the Sisters of Mercy song, "Ribbons." Next author-- ganbatte! Ian Ton okaynowa@aol.com