The white Gem shines. It emanates bright light and
power. A serene, calm
peace exudes from it, a quiet comfort to those who beheld its surface.
Deep inside, a maelstrom of
misery stirs.
How dare they...
Mine, you can't have-
It'd be easier if they were gone...
Don't go-
You can protect them all.
Just stay inside.
You can't protect them.
You'll solve everything...
Deeper.
You'll end everything...
Deeper.
...
Deeper, there is a meeting room.
"Good job, everyone!" yells the metal man, clapping his hands with a series of loud '
clangs'.
The metallic banging can barely be heard amongst the cheerful cacophony that fills the room.
A red dragon guffaws and raises a sword with an inarticualte yell.
A miniaturized version of a certain time traveller magical girl laughs madly in answer, rasing a handgun and firing a few times into the ceiling in celebration.
On of the shots ricochets off and brains an average looking man with a red shirt. A glass slips from his hand and hits the ground, mere seconds before he does as well.
A couple of identical black-and-red clothed girls carrying huge scythes stop their animated talk, walk up to the fresh corpse, grab it from the sides, and happily chuck it down a convenient hole in the wall.
That done, they walk off talking about blades, guns and cookies, nodding on the way to the red shirted man sitting to share a drink with a [MAN/GIRL] sporting a luxuriously long mane of red hair.
A phoenyx flies by and takes perch on top some black haired girl's head. Once there, it lets out a thrilling note, causing everyone in the room to become silent, and listen, and bask...
Then the girls head explodes in flames.
The bird's singing cuts off as it flies off in a panic.
The girl, hair still on fire but otherwise unharmed, raises a cub in toast to the mythical creature.
A moment later, the overwhelming cacophony of sounds resumes.
Two white haired girls bicker at each other, one trying on some ridiculous glasses to the other's chagrin.
A rolling cat swerves between their legs and speeds and
jumps into a fountain of punch, splashing it onto everyone nearby.
The white skinned woman with red lips curses at the cat, same as a guy with a trash can lid on his head. A pink haired girl and another one with long black hair quickly offer them napkins, and help them dry off the punch. They also offer the same to the other customers; one of them waves them off and covers his mouth, sniffing as if about to sneeze; another one in red armor shakes his head absently, intently staring around at everyone in the room with shining eyes.
A catgirl clicks his tongue and picks up the rolling cat off the fountain.
The girl with the flaming hair is suddenly besieged by a furred man sporting a pompadour and a hair comb. Together, they try and put the fire on the girl's head, so the man can comb it into a semblance of order.
Then a scaled down replica of the Earth floats down to hover slightly above everyone's heads.
"Good job indeed," it intones, "but now comes the hard part."
The red shirted guy raises his glass in toast to that.
"Gather around!"
The multitude of beings slowly stop what they're doing: A purple haired girl with a mass of shadows following her step breaks her discussion with a pair of red and blue haired kids; a dude with steam coming from his clenched fists and a monkey holding a pair of knives stop bickering; a rambling silhouette of a man and a floating eye beckon to a pair of blue haired swordgirls to follow as they near the big table set on the center of the room.
A little green girl with cat-ear-like shaped hair, holding a rodent straggles behind, quickly erasing a purple 'seven' from a wall filled with coloured numbers, and writing a 'nine' in its place. Then she hurries along, to the chittering gerbil's insistances.
More and more people slowly gather around the table.
For a moment, as the last straggler, a black bird holding a script, takes their place, everything is silent.
The floating world 'looks' around.
"Good," its voice echoes. "Now we must discuss what is
important: The potential b-"
"HUGS!" yells an anonymous voice.
The planed frowns somehow. "We really need to address-"
"Stop it with the hugs already!" cuts off a guy holding a 'no fun allowed' sign.
A white mix of a rabbit and bunny tries to cut in.
'Can't we not get along for a few minutes?'
Some dude sitting beside the bunnycat suddenly grabs it and chucks it off a window.
"That was uncalled for," comments a man with shining, cruel green eyes.
"Order, please!" insists the floating Earth, getting some support, but otherwise unable to stop the whole meeting from descending into endless bickering once more.
The door slams open.
Everyone's heads snap to see a newcomer step in.
[HE/SHE] sports the same short blue hair as some others in the audience, same blue light armor, same
cape. Same determined look -except for the one with the mad grin and the bloody sword.
The one with the long, long red hair startles, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
For a moment, the two look at each other, and it's as if nothing else existed.
The someone whistles.
The blue haired one palms their face, while the red one chucks their glass at the whistling girl, who shrinks just in time for the projectile to only take off her Witch hat.
"You can't be here," states the green eyed man with a strained smile.
"You can't keep me from
being here," refutes the blue haired girl, "don't you see what's coming?"
The red shirted dude nods. "We understand it's an important discussion, a dangerous one, but we can't keep breaking the rules. Not even for Homura's sake."
"What- no!" the swordswoman shakes her head. "Bah! The Potential Bomb matter is already settled, it's so
obvious what we need to do."
Side glances are traded amongst most of the gathered.
"I'm talking about the council!" yells the blue one, elbowing their way to the table. "You all give them too much credit, but with this information, we can deal with them!"
"That's enough of you, you're
not supposed to be here," repeats the green eyed man.
The blue haired one's eyes' widen as a green haired girl and a blond man with suit and dark glasses approach them.
"Look!" she/he yells, laying their hands on the table, "it's pretty simple: If you want to deal with these girls, there's only one thing to do," they explain as they lean on the table. Blue eyes quickly dart to the sides at the two menacingly apporaching.
A deep breath.
"Let me tell them about Social. ALL of them, at the same time!"
Shocked silence.
Everyone in the large meeting room stops, their thought halted as they contemplate what they just heard.
Then, there's some nods. Some words of ageement.
"Hey," chimes in the redshirt, "I was actually about to propose that-"
"YOU'RE INSANE!" yells someone.
Pandemonium erupts.
The blue haired girl frown "I'm not-!"
Her arms are caught in vicegrips, the blond man and green haired girls having caught up.
"No!" The swordsgirl yells, digging their feet, struggling, but unable to stop the two from dragging them away. "You don't understand! We need to do this! Let me- I'll tell them all about social! All of them!"
Then the two captors
heave, lift them off the ground and toss them through the door.
"This isn't the end!"
A moment later, the blue haired girl's voice is cut off as the door is shut and locked.
The sunglasses guy stands in front of the door, looks around, and nods.
"Thanks," says the planet, "now if we can concentrate on the issue of the potential bomb
and Madoka..."
"But what about my origins!" yells the blue dresed girl with painted lips.
"And what about better energy sources?" asks a giant worm.
"Can't we just have Madoka Contract?" asks
someone.
The room erupts in chaos. A explosion of denials followed by protests and questions and do not have anything to do with anything that's being discussed follow; chairs skid on the floor as people stand up yelling; cups and glasses are spilled; aimless, heated debate reigns.
The red haired girl/man sighs, to receive a heartfelt pat on the shoulder from the cargirl.
Shining yellow eyes observe all over a calm smile.
The pompadour-sporting furry climbs on the table.
The World spins on its tilted axis for a few revolutions, contemplating the pandemonium.
"For fuck's sake," it laments, floating off.