[continued from previous message]

Nearby, Doug Moran was doing the Macarena with Catalyst Lass. She
was glad she'd sent the message summoning him; he deserved to be part of
this celebration, and was clearly enjoying himself.

:3 Good retcons

"I spend the entire night looking for you," said Irony Man, "and
you're right here."

"There's a word for that," said Tasha Vance.

Banter!

Irony Man looked at the tree. "It's been said that there are two
types of writers -- architects and gardeners. An architect standing in a garden... as you said, there's a word for that. But I don't think you
are either. I think you are... a composter, perhaps."

heeheehee

Your name is Tasha Celeste Irene Vance. TCIV.
Time Crapper IV. Net.heroes and net.villains have a way of hiding in
plain sight."

"But I am neither." The air rippled and swirled around her,
revealing her true form as a red-haired, cloaked woman.

:3

"But you came from the seed of one of the greatest heroes of who
ever lived. You are a Vector."

"But the Vector program was the source of some of the greatest
villains who ever lived. And I *was* a Vector. I am something else now."

Already the retcon is paying dividends~

"She knew she what she believed in. Will any of the others follow in her path?"

"There is one. But her time has not yet come."

Another forward-looking reference to JAC. :3

He shook his head. "Sorry, caught in a bit of a loop... apparently, Cynical Lass's team was told about a newspaper clipping that reported on Captain LNH's death. It ended up leading them to the Dorfs' weakness.
But if all of the memories of that battle were erased..." He bit his lip lightly, fangs hanging out. "I keep going around on it."

ARAK I frowned. The thing is, he knew it must be a plot hook of some kind --

Or something I didn't think of until writing this scene. X3

"Sure. Because it reminds us that, even with all our advanced
science, even with knowledge passed down from our forefathers, even with going out there and meeting cosmic entities that are part of the
structure of the universe itself -- we don't know everything. We have
more to explore, and..." Wendle struggled a bit. He wasn't great at off- the-cuff philosophizing... "...and we are not yet complete. You know?"

I like this. :>

"Know that I watch this puny sphere because of the secret -- the Anti.File Equation hidden among human minds! Is this, then, the power
which I seek? The power to unbalance, to take the first, identifying
byte and corrupt it, throwing out all meaning?"

And the grooved vinyl skin bent, teeth of white bone shining in an exquisite smile. "Good."

"Thus shall the power be greater once it lies in my grasp. Thus
shall it change the universe to reflect my countenance. Thus shall the victory of Flipseid be ever more complete, and thus shall it ring among
the stars forever!"

"The music of the spheres is an empty babble, a chorus of
meaningless lyrics over the thumping beat of empty hedonism." He turned
and sat, and watched. And smiled. "And that beat is, and ever will be, Flipseid."

I'm always trying to get at the more "fucked-up-ness in the human soul on a cosmic stage" aspect of Flipseid, and I think I did really good here!

YNHMHELad snorted. "Yeah, I don't know. It's like..." He picked up a Spanish peanut and flicked it across the room. "I'm not going all Dorf-
rage anymore, but I still think about all the problems in the world, and
I feel like we could be doing more."

This part is me trying to address the stuff at the beginning, ofc.

"No, no. It's like..." He took a deep breath. "The problems you were talking about -- war, poverty, inequality and pain -- they aren't
natural disasters or acts of God. They were caused by people, the
thoughts and feelings in the minds of people, and the only way to really
fix the problems is to change the minds. To make people happier and
stronger and more inspired. And what can do that?" He tapped his chest
and the stylized calligraphy letter N there. "Art. Words. A story." He
looked up, into YNHMHELad's eyes. "We're helping by being here -- by
being heroes."

This is my guiding philosophy as a writer. (It's also my fuck you to Kurt Vonnegut's stupid, stupid statement about art and the Vietnam War.)

Namer Boy shrugged, smiling. "I'm good at putting a name on things."

YNHMHELad chuckled. "Not like your dad."

Namer Boy shook his head, laughing. "Nah. But..." He looked over at Horrible Name Lad. "It seems he inspired someone, too..."

:D LEGACY

He'd always feared -- or maybe hoped -- that without his guiding influence things would have fallen apart and the LNH would welcome him
back with open arms to sort them out. But in fact, the LNH was still
going on, in defiance of all common sense, just like it always did. And
he didn't have any desire to get back in the game. Maybe someday the
writers would start feeling nostalgic and he'd feel the urge to put the
armor back on, but for now, he felt it was a part of his life that was
over now, for better or for worse.

Fuck yeah. <3 We've done really good moving forward, not back, with characters, unlike corporate media.

"Third, I felt like I might feel better if I spent some time around people who are actually enjoying themselves."

Heck yeah. :>

"Well, first of all, we might as well let them enjoy things while
they can. Second, you'd be surprised. You remember what it was like
starting out?"

"Well, I do now."

Heeheehee

"You know what? Maybe this all was worth it after all. Life goes on. Even if we're not part of it anymore, they're all here because of us."
He raised his glass. "To the future."

List Lad clinked it. "To the future!"

:D HELL YEAH!!

|--------------*----------------THE END--------------*--------------|
| STARRING CREATED BY |

<snip>

|--------------*----------------AND YOU--------------*--------------|

Love these kind of credits. :D Definitely doing some at the end of HHS.

Drew "post-holiday revving back up" Nilium

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