Things to do in Otakuland before You're Dead... (a FAQing Hostile omake) by Mark Poa (recklessfyer@mechpilot.com) FAQing Hostile originally spawned by Twoflower ********************************************************************************* [05:00:00.00] Otakuland. Mecca of Mechas. Holyland of the Fukus. The one true NeoTokyo (tm). Last Home of the otakus on earth. After the great cataclysm, Otakuland had become the one and only source of any and all remaining anime and manga on the planet. Its population numbered 5,000 men, women, children, and assorted genetically-engineered beings. For the past ten years, otaku moved from point A to B within the city, generally going about their personal business. Their thoughts moved from the latest DVD screenings to the newest restored manga pages, from the newly rediscovered seiyu CD's to the latest batch of incoming shipments from their trade allies. Everything seemed all right and peachy. At least until the day of its Fall. [04:39:30.78] Chi opened her bunker windows wide. "Today's going to be sugoi!" she said while doing a twirl around her bedroom with her skirt following her movements. If anyone happened to be watching her at that time, they could have had a quick panty-peeking moment, assuming she had any panties on, of course. Chi paused by the mirror in her apartment. She busied herself with combing her hair. Afterwards, she added a few more sprays of orange hair dye. "Hmm. I'm running low on hair color," she thought. "I must remember to get another can from the plant. Can't let my kawaii hair style remain without color." She made a few more brush strokes. "Maybe I'll get blue next time." She couldn't keep herself from giggling. That night would be her first date with Gary. She thought about how Gary would look kawaii in the sweater she knitted for him. The red pokeball design on the sweater reminded her of his favorite anime. She was sure that he would like it. She was glad she took that "How to Care for your Loved One like the Goddess" seminar. She smiled and placed the sweater inside her tote bag. She went to her closet and chose some tight only-slightly-torn jeans and a mid-halter top. "Tonight, he shall feel my love!" Her eyes burned with the fire of determination. Then a sly smile crept on her face. "And after that..." She giggled mischieviously as her thoughts changed from shoujo mode to hentai mode. [03:51:46.88] Gary walked down the street. On the sidewalk, young girls in restitched costumes were playing "Sailor Moon defeats the savage youma." He looked at them as he passed and smiled. The kids waved at him. He waved back. "Damn, I remember when I used to dress up in a cape pretending I'm Tuxedo Mask!" he thought. "Sure brings back memories." He kicked a random pebble on the road as he continued walking along. He straightened out his shirt collar and reached into his pants pocket. "Let's see. I got seventy creds here. Ought to be enough for dinner and a gift," he thought as he planned the specifics of his date. "Good thing the DVD showings at the public theater are free. Otherwise, I might have to sell my other Pokemon cards. Then after the movie, it's the Tokyo Tower for us." He returned his cred card inside his pocket and continued walking. He finally came upon his destination and entered the trading post. "Pops," he addressed the man behind the counter. The man turned to look at his customer. "Oh, it's you again. What do you want this time?" he scoffed as he turned to continue stocking the shelves. "What would you recommend I get a smashing girl for our first date? Oh, and none of those chibi dolls you always try to get me buying," Gary jokingly warned. The aforementioned man behind the counter turned around again. "Who is it this time?" He played with one end of his gray mustache. "You get more first dates than Ataru Moroboshi gets electrocuted." "No, this time it's for keeps. She's one of those Goddess Circle girls. She's even taking lessons over at the Goddess center. Like the vines say, the girls there are romantic as hell," said Gary while he tried to keep both his ego and his smile up. "Well," Pops took out a list from under the counter and studied it. "New shipment of fresh flowers just arrived from the Tree Huggers sector." He restudied his list. "But they cost forty creds a dozen." "FORTY CREDS??!!??" Gary reeled back while his hands made weird up and down movements. "Why in KAMI'S name would they cost that MUCH!?!?" he yelled. "Hey, look here, boy!" Pops grabbed Gary's shirt and moved his face up close and personal. He did not like being shouted at. "Why don't YOU try getting any plant from those eco-geeks and coming back in one piece?!? I got three guys in the Dr. Tofu clinic right now because of those stinkin' flowers!!!" he shouted in Gary's face, now covered with a half pint of shopkeeper's spit. "NOW, do you still think them plants are not worth at least fifty creds a dozen? Huh, do you?!?" All Gary could do was nod his head faster than Goku goes through food. "Good." The shopkeeper calmed down a bit and flashed a wolf-like grin. "Now, how many you want?" Pops asked after letting the kid loose. "Two," Gary answered behind the towel he was using to wipe his face. "Two dozen? Okay, that'll be 100 creds." Pops held out his hand for Gary's cred card. "Um, actually I meant two roses only please," Gary mumbled sheepishly. Pops facefaulted. "You've been here twenty times and I still keep forgetting what a cheapskate you are," he complained while he got up. [03:06:46.67] "Shit, that Pops can be such a cheapskate when it comes to merc fees!" grumbled Fox while he checked his cred card balance. "This won't even cover my stay here." He pocketed his card. There wasn't much he could do right now. He sighed as he looked at his leg. A sling tied to the ceiling held up his injured appendage. The doctors ran out of plaster halfway doing his broken leg. His leg looked like it had an anklet. He sighed again. "Well, on the bright side, the nurses here at least have interesting uniforms," he thought as his mouth formed a lecherous grin. He reached for the bell and shook it to call in his nurse. "Oohh, nurse!" he called. Meanwhile, his mind went back to thinking about how lucky it was that the nurse uniforms were made when there was a shortage in textiles. The first time they brought him here, the doctors thought he had severe heatstroke. In actuality, he passed out from trying to prevent a severe nosebleeding. "I'm coming!" came the melodious voice from outside the room. He grinned again. "Must be the brunette again. What's her name? Arie. Right!" His mental vision of a kawaii nurse shattered like a beer bottle in a barfight when he saw the HUGE woman who entered the room. What scared him more was the fact that the nurse was making cutey eyes at him. "Who the hell are you!?!? Where's the cute nurse I had earlier? You know, the brunette?" he half-asked, half-screamed while he tried to hide the fact that he was retreating backwards on his bed. Unfortunately, his injured leg kept his scampering to a minimum. "Oh, Arie? She went out. Her shift's over." the horizontally-challenged nurse replied while she moved closer to the shaking Fox. "I think it's time for your sponge bath." She grinned in a semi-evil kind of way. Fox could only think of doing one thing. He whimpered, "Mommy." [02:36:46.89] Arie finally got home. She felt great changing from her nurse uniform to her house clothes. She had always felt that the uniforms caused most of the fainting spells in the clinic, as well as all those flirting and panty-peeking by the assorted hentais they received almost regularly. She sighed as she folded the uniform. With two folds, it would fit in a shirt pocket. The nurses always tried requisitioning for more textiles to make the clothes, but the Circle of the Holy Fuku always got their orders processed first. The only thing the Dr. Tofu clinic received were leftovers. After she finished, Arie went out of her trailer. She looked at her watch and judged by the angles of the SD Piccolo's antennae on the watchface that it was time for lunch. She decided to eat out. There was only so much "Big Mac and fries" rations in a week that a growing girl could take. She passed a Bulbasaur and Squirtle having a drinking session on the street and headed for the eatery on the corner. She paused to read the signboard. " 'OK Okonomiyaki. Just like the way Ucchan used to make.' Hmm. I guess I can go for a quick okonomiyaki. It's either this or the sushi bar across the street." She mentally weighed an okonomiyaki against an obviously raw and not- really-fresh fish on an imaginary balance. The 'okonomiyaki' outweighed the fish. She put on her smile and entered the eatery. "Howdy, and what will ya be havin'?" the waitress behind the counter asked in a mock Southern accent. "I'll have the special with no shrimp, please." "Okay, comin' right up. That'll be three creds." She paused when she saw Arie flash her seal of Tofu badge, then smiled. "Oh, I see. On the house then. Can't let ya angels of mercy go hungry now, right?" She started cooking the 'okonomiyaki'. Arie smiled again. "Being a nurse does have its perks," she thought as the waitress laid her lunch in front of her. It was merely a flat scrambled egg with soy sauce, but it looked like Dragon Cruisine to a famished nurse. "Itadakimasu!" Arie said before pigging out. [02:43:12.54] "Dude, you look terrible!" Cohen commented to his partner atop one of Otakuland's observation posts. "I think it must be that sushi I ate for brunch," Stinger grumbled while he took a couple of painkillers. His skin was a bit pale and was in sharp contrast with the all black suit he was wearing. He tried to concentrate on his job but found that his troubled stomach kept his attention from the outlying regions. "I told you you shouldn't have had sushi. You know it takes three days for the fish to arrive here via the transports. Only those issued with economy- class extra-sized artificial iron stomachs could eat those," Cohen criticized before he lighted his cigarette. "Will you shut up about that already? You sound like my friggin' wife!" Stinger complained before he felt another rumble in his midsection. "Man, cover for me while I take a restroom break." He started heading down the stairs of their observation deck. "The toilet's out of order. Ordinance says that there is a plug or something," Cohen said before he inhaled and blew out a cloud of smoke. Stinger's face paled a bit more. "Oh, crap!" He looked around. "Where's the other nearest toilet?" Cohen used his cigarette as a pointer. "Down the street. At Pop's trading post, turn a right then three blocks down." Stinger, who couldn't last much longer, broke off into a fast run while clutching his midsection. Cohen leaned back on a post and took a few more mentholated breathes. "Take your time. It's not like there would be any intruders or attackers who would be coming," Cohen said after his partner, who could not possibly have heard this since he was already a couple of blocks away. Cohen scanned the region outside of Otakuland again but saw only sand, dust, and more dust. "Wish I brought my Battle Angel manga with me." He sighed. Guard duty was gonna be boring without someone to talk to. [02:09:45.54] "Isn't that guy taking a bit too long inside that bathroom?" Jacky turned when he overheard that remark. He saw that a line had formed to the only bathroom within a kilometer-wide radius. He shrugged and continued on his way, all the while muttering something about the lack of adequate facilities in Otakuland. There wasn't much he could do about it, after all. He was only an instructor teaching level 2 mad manga drawing skeelz over at the NeoTokyo University. Well, actually, it wasn't completely true. He had a brother in the Dojo Builders Circle who could probably pull a few strings to get new bathrooms set up. "But why bother," he reasoned aloud. "It's not like anyone's asking for me to do something." He shrugged again, not noticing that he drew stares from a couple of passers-by. He reached NeoTokyo University and went to his first class. He was late. He was almost always late. His students didn't seem to mind, so he didn't see the need to change. A few of his students had already started with their work. He walked around the room and gave pointers to those students who still could not draw eyes the size of satellite dishes. He stopped when he reached the table of one of his students. He looked over the girl's shoulder and gasped back in shock. "YOU! Why do you still insist on coloring your manga?!?" he asked, visibly shaken to the core of his being. "Isn't it kewl, sensei? I saw this manga with colors in it, and I thought it was just too too kewl!" the girl, who obviously did not realize that her sensei did not find this kewl at all, replied. "A colored manga??!!?? Preposterous!" Jacky reacted. "Where is this manga you're talking about, Phylia?" he demanded while making enough theatrical gestures that would have made a Broadway thespian proud. The girl reached inside her Hello Kitty (tm) bag and drew out a comic page. It showed a standard manga girl with wires wrapped around her body. A member of the Otakuland Detective Corps would have easily identified it as an original Ghost in the Shell cover in full color. However, there was no Detective Corps member in the room that day. It was a shame as it would have prevented the following scene. Jacky took it. His eyes filled with raging fire. "Blasphemy!! Anime might have color, but manga will always be in black and white!!!" He shouted as he ripped the page. "You, girl!" he said and pointed at Phylia. "You do not realize the sacredness of the manga art style. You are a blasphemer!" He started upturning the tables inside his class. "Mayday, mayday! Professor Psych is running amok again!" a passing hall monitor called into his walkie talkie. Not a minute went by before two security agents bearing a straitjacket came to cart the disturbed professor away. "NO! NO! NO! I must restore the glory that is manga!!! I must educate my students!! The world of printed breast exposures need me!!! I must complete my nose-picking manga!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Jacky rambled on while the burly agents hauled him out of the University to someplace safe. "That's the third time this month he went nuts. When are they gonna ship him out of here?" a boy remarked while he helped Phylia stand up. "You should see him in Anime history 101 when he ranted about the 'evils of dubbing'," another fellow student piped in, shuddering. "Now that was scary." "I think they shouldn't let teachers take all that coffee with wasabi. I think it messes with their minds," Phylia stated while a couple of her classmates nodded in agreement. [01:32:31.65] "First the anime cosmetology students demand more hair dyes! Then that Jacky professor going insane again! NOW THIS!" Dean Wipplebaker sighed as he read the just-arrived reports of contaminated wasabi in the stockroom. Being made dean of the only nearly-authentic educational institution in Otakuland by the tried and tested lottery method, Wipplebaker always thought he was not right for this job. Nevertheless, he was stuck here until the Otakuland council started another job lottery. He made a mental note not to buy any tickets. NeoTokyo University taught everything anime and manga. It took care of Otakuland's nearly 2,000 underaged citizens and helped to mold them into the productive otaku of tomorrow. For this purpose, the school taught them basic anime and manga drawing skills, anime history, reading, writing, computer know-how, and even cooking. In addition, it kept the youngsters busy while their folks were at the theaters watching their recommended daily dose of anime. "If word of this wasabi incident gets out, the teachers might complain," he thought. "Maybe I should destroy the evidence." He crumpled the first few pages then started chewing them. Just as he was about to reach the fifth page, his 'intercom' sounded. "Sir?" came the voice from the cup. Wipplebaker took the cup then stretched the string a bit. "Mmph?" Dean Wipplebaker mmphed at the cup. "Sir? Are you eating the reports again?" his secretary, who was talking into the cup at the other end of the string, asked. Dean Wipplebaker swallowed before answering. "Never mind. What is it this time? Another mad ninja in the halls? A student who thinks he's hearing talking mushrooms? A rampaging sashimi?" On the other end, his secretary bigsweated. "Um, no, sir. The guys from the Washu-chan Mad Science Circle are here to restore our Internet connection." "Oh, is that all? Tell them to hurry it up," Wipplebaker replied, then added. "Oh, and Miss Nagasaki?" "Yes?" "Send in a bottle of ketchup, please." He looked at the reports sitting on his desk. "The new paper stock tastes a bit salty," he added to himself. [00:49:32.34] Tokyo Tower. Largest communications tower in the US at present. The facsimile, at least. Tokyo Tower was also the official headquarters of the Washu-chan Mad Science Circle. Here were the best minds and analytical brains that Otakuland had. Here were the men and women who were not afraid to work twenty five hours a day, eight days a week, keeping the the computer systems of Otakuland a-okay at all times. Here were those men and women who sacrificed hours of anime watching and manga reading to further the cause of otaku-kind. All eight of 'em. At present though, only three were at the control room. The others were out doing science stuff, chasing after bugs, or blowing up a laboratory or two. The three who were staying at the Tokyo Tower control room, however, were deathly concentrated on a perplexing dilemma. "I think you should turn it once to the left and then twice to the right," a particularly good-looking redhead in scientist duds said. Her leaning forward helped to accentuate her cleavage. Unfortunately, every member of the science circle had that portion in their brain dubbed the "hentai factor" removed to make them completely objective. Her companions did not notice. "No, I think it needs three counterclockwise twists then a turn around the middle," her dark-haired colleague replied. "The middle picture should be Hello Kitty's nose." He pointed at the object to emphasize his point. The third scientist wrestled with the object in question for a few more moments. Unfortunately, frustration finally overcame him and he let loose a primal scream that would have made Shinji Ikari proud. "AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" he screamed while he whipped up an industrial 2-ton mallet and smashed the troublesome Rubik's cube into a a thousand itty-bitty pieces. His companions both released the standard anime sweatdrops. Calming down somewhat, the screamer placed a hand at the back of his neck. "Umm, ha ha ha! Guess I got a bit carried away. Hahahahaha!" he nervously laughed. "Well, whatever," the redhead shrugged while taking note of the smashed toy. "I don't think we could have finished that puzzle anyway. Do you think anyone on earth could have actually finished that?" Her query was answered by the shaking of her colleagues' heads. "Well, it's about past noon anyway," the dark-haired scientist coolly stated, looking at his watch. "You guys okay for a quick late lunch?" "Hai!" the two replied. The three serious-minded scientists, in perfect synchronization, took out bento boxes from inside their lab coats. They sat down on the old classroom desks supplied to the Circle. Interestingly, they looked like students in an old fashioned Japanese high school on their lunch break. "So, Sho," the dark-haired scientist addressed his friend with his chopsticks. "You finished with that research you were doing?" "Nope," Sho, the screamer, replied in between mouthfuls of rice. "I tell you, Kim. It's hard to find remnants of anime and manga fanfiction remaining. Even with NeoK1bo's search engines, it's taking a long time." Kim nodded. The redhead added some of her thoughts on the topic. "You know, it's kinda funny when you think about it. Some of these fanfiction are so good they seem as if they were written by the original authors themselves," she pointed out. Her two companions nodded. "However, something bothers me." She paused to munch on a carrot slice. "What were those disclaimers and whatnots that the writers always put there?" "Apparently, Joy," Sho started, while wiping his glasses to look more dignified. "Those were due to the fact that the writers may be sued for copyright infringements or intellectual property rights thingies." He replaced his glasses on his face and pushed them up in a way that showed he watched a bit too much Evangelion. He continued. "It seems that there was a cursed breed of humans that prey on these creative people and kept taking advantage of manipulating the old Rules for their own twisted ends and benefits." "Lawyers," Kim answered, when he realized what Sho was talking about. The word evoked shudders from the three. "Good thing those creatures don't exist anymore in the world," Joy commented, placing a bit too much emphasis on the word "creatures." "Actually, there is a tribe of quasi-lawyers that emerged recently. I received the report from Strike Team Zeta. They call themselves the Notar Republic," Kim stated matter-of-factly. "I just hope they stay away from Otakuland," Joy muttered. "Never worry. Otakuland is always safe as long as the Genom Satellite Defense System is online," Sho reassured her. The three continued their idle chatter over their lunch. None of them noticed the flicker on the main computer screen. The same main computer that controls the Genom Satellite Defense System, it turned out. The LARGO computer screen readout read as thus: *** WAI! WAI! WAI! YOU GOT MAIL! *** WAI! WAI! WAI! YOUR COMPUTER SYSTEM IS BEING INVADED BY HACKERS. PLEASE DEPLOY ANTI-HACKING DEVICES. *** WAI! WAI! WAI! ANTI-HACKING DEVICES COUNTERACTED BY ANTI-ANTI-HACKING DEVICE MEASURES. *** WAI! WAI! WAI! GENOM SATELLITE DEFENSES SYSTEMS PRIMED AND LOCKED. TARGET: OTAKULAND. TIME OF FIRING: 5 MINUTES AND COUNTING. *** WAI! WAI! WAI! COUNTDOWN LOCKED. HAVE A NICE DAY. *** Completely taken over, the main computer's screen showed a counter ticking away the last minutes of Otakuland. [00:04:12.43] Otakuland. Mecca of Mechas. Holyland of the Fukus. After the Fall, nothing will remain of this once proud otaky place, but charred corpses and burning buildings. Oh, and the leaning Tokyo Tower of Otakuland. The resident otaku had no idea of their coming fate in a few more minutes. They went about their business, thinking thoughts both kawaii and hentai. They were probably better off this way. All they would see was a blinding red beam of pure laser light before their skin gets fried extra crispy. Those who were too stoned to notice they were burning would simply think that their drugs were starting to kick in. Those with their loved ones during that time, well . . . at least they would have died happy. Still, dying's a bitch. [00:00:00.00] The End. *********************************************************************************** Author's notes: First of all, domo arigato gozaimasu to W4-san for prereading this. Without your help, it would have turned into a disaster! ^_^ The first draft of this fic was written just after the stroke of midnight on the first day of this year/millenium (You decide!). However, because of grammatical and story flow errors that W4 graciously pointed out (a lot, if I might add), it took me longer to whip this thing into shape. Oh, my apologies to Twoflower and the other FAQing Hostile writers whose ideas I used (or misused, whatever) in this fic without asking them first. Among them are the concept of the Circles in Otakuland, the name of the LARGO computer system, and ... whatever I forgot to mention. ^_^ Credit goes to whomever it should go to. I voted for FAQing Hostile in the Starters Sweepstakes because I thought that, even with the potential for abuse by authors, the story presented a fascinating concept that could be explored more thoroughly. I wrote Chapter 4 of the story (/plug) wherein I tried to give some sort of history to the whole thing. However, a lot of my ideas didn't get into that part. Hence, I decided to do this omake. Personally though, I would have preferred if Twoflower, being the originator of this series, made the Otakuland concept clearer with his own Otakuland history omake. However, I think he got a bit busy with other stuff. ^_^ E-mail, love-letters, money, and other miscellaneous stuff can be sent to recklessflyer@mechpilot.com. If no one writes in, I might do another omake. (Genuine threat. ^_^) Darn! Another long Author's notes. I'll shut up now. ^_^