It was almost time.
Soon, very soon, Mira would have power over all in the universe she watched so closely behind the glass. She would have ultimate power over the lives of the organisms and matter of this small galaxy of white and red. Only a matter of time...
Ten... nine... eight... seven...
She grinned, perfect white teeth that had been forcefully made so by layers of rubber and endless plaque scraping gleaming ferociously. Greedily she rubbed her hands together, anticipating the moment in which she could inflict true oblivion over all who dwelt in this small, contained universe.
Four... three... two... one...
“Victory is mine,” Mira said with an even wider grin, and removed her slice of cheese pizza from the microwave. Oh yes, there would be feasting tonight...
On the other side of the screen, Martin shook his head in disbelief. “Like that’s going to impress the Permission-Givers?”
“Screw you.” Mira made a small “hmph” sound, turning from the keyboard. “You’re lucky I even let you join up with me. Who wants another pissy vampire bitching and moaning about eternity?”
Martin bit his lip, accustomed to his “condition” enough to keep his fangs well out of the picture. “I do not bitch and moan. And a lot of those ‘pissy vampires’ are going to be looking at you for a snack for saying that.”
Mira snorted and reached for another slice of cheese pizza. “Love to see them try... the usual for tonight, then?”
Martin grinned. His was far more pleasant than the Mira in the short-short’s, fangs aside. “Sure. I’ll beat you in anything you throw at me.”
“Okay, then. Half-Life or Outbreak?”
“Half-Life. I’m loving the good old Quake engine right now.”
“You always want to play Half-Life! Is there a low-polygon obsession I should know about?”
“I just appreciate the classics.”
“So what’s with you staying up all day playing RE: Code Veronica?”
“... That’s different.”
“Different schmifferent. You just like staring at Claire Redfield’s butt.”
“All right, how about taking turns at Devil May Cry 3? Whoever gets the most S-ranks at the end wins.”
Martin finally nodded and started pulling out the console. “You’re on.”
“Let me check something real quick... oh dear.” Mira sighed, looking forlornly at her computer screen again. “I wish Upstairs would let us in on this one.”
The vampire was busy trying to untangle the mass of cords hooked up to the TV. “What is it?”
Mira scowled at the Words before her. “Yet another Sue trying to abduct characters out of the canon. This one’s harassing Janos.”
Martin made a face. “He’s got enough problems without a bunch of pubescent teenage girls after him.”
“Not to mention he’s probably old enough to be their father... or their grandfather for that matter.” Mira scrolled through the Words, her scowl turning into an all-out snarl. “Now they’re really annoying me here. What’s the likelihood of the Sue’s mother basically going ‘Oh, look at that, a blue-skinned winged creature with fangs and claws just crash-landed in my daughter’s bedroom. Maybe we should help it’?”
Now it was Martin’s turn to scowl. “More like file that one under ‘Never to happen in the current universal expansion’.”
“Exactly. No offense to Janos, but if something like him appeared out of nowhere in my daughter’s bedroom, I’d call the cops. Or shoot it. Or both.”
Martin finally managed to untangle both himself and the controller from the mass of TV wires and started up the game. “Send in a request?”
“Damn straight.” Mira began typing furiously. “I’ll also be uncommonly nice and inform them that if my short-short isn’t good enough to their floral sensibilities for us to be inducted, that I won’t be able to guarantee the inclusion of a charge list or self-restraint when I get my hands on that Sue.”
He allowed the mandatory ten seconds of cool-off time. “So do you want to go first on this game or what?”
“Does a Sue desperately need spellcheck?”
A pause as he studied her screen. “You do know that Microsoft Word is still open, right?”
Mira blinked, looking more closely. “Crap! It’s been writing down everything we’ve said and done!”
“It still is.”
“I hate to think what Upstairs would think if we’d sent that.”
Martin grinned, coming up behind her and reading over it. “You know... it is a lot better than what you wrote.”
“Hey! At least I’m a lot better at it than these stupid Suethors... all I have to do is delete this and—hey! What are you doing? No, wait! Don’t touch—”
Message sent 05/31/2006 21:42