Across Universes, The Second After Last and the Millenium Before Next and All Things In-Between

[endsthegame]

For two full Fandom weeks, the Nothing had been spreading. Holes were starting to appear in the tapestry of the multiverse, near the fringes, the backwards places that the web spiraling out from Fandom barely even touched any more. But it was not satisfied: there were more, forgotten and abandoned, useless and discarded.

Waiting for it.

The clouds rolled on, dragging behind it a thousand leagues of absence.

[[ for those dropped who are disappearing, take three. ]]

Comments

Montmartre, Paris. October 1896

[boho-to-be.livejournal.com]

It would have been considerate of the Nothing to come while Christian was awake and vibrantly alive. He couldn't have won, but some part of him would have delighted in facing his attacker down with a gleam in his eye and a song on his lips.

But the Nothing did not exist to fulfill the fantasies of still-teenaged romantics. The writer barely stirred in his sleep as it lapped up all of his Paris early one morning, gnawing a bit on the Northern suburbs before hoovering up all of Montmartre. Not even a shred of tulle from a cancan dancer's skirt was left in the end -- and no one knew, or would ever recollect, there should have been.

Christian was gone. Satine was gone. And they had never found True Love.

[not_entirely]

Lucas never used to have any problems with Mark and his Gwar tribute band Marc coming to visit. Having a live band to play was good publicity for the store, though they'd had to stop having said band play in the street. With most people getting their music these days through mp3 downloads and iTunes, it helped to have an edge.

On the other hand, Lucas never used to get headaches from the music.

"We're getting old," he told Nipper, the RCA dog statuette that sat on his desk. The dog did not reply.

Then, suddenly, the band went silent. Lucas didn't notice. As far as he knew, it had never been there, in the first place. He didn't even look up from his Quickbooks file when the nothing swept through the front of the store and into the backroom. He didn't notice a single thing amiss until it had swallowed Empire Records and Bidet 3.0 whole.

That was alright, since no one else noticed, either.

[visor-laforge.livejournal.com]

Geordi hadn't had much opportunity to think about his time in Fandom, since he returned to the Enterprise. From the destruction of the Enterprise D, to their run in with the Borg, there had always been something to do that kept his mind occupied.

Now their latest assignment had seen them come to the planet of the Ba'ku people, where their mission had initially been to either capture or disable Lieutenant Commander Data but now they were left with more questions than answers.

Geordi didn't know how but his eyes had regenerated and he was now able to see with his real eyes, something he had never thought he would have the opportunity to do and on top of that he was seeing a sunrise without the aid of his VISOR. It was everything he had hoped it would turn out to be and he just stood there, gazing out at the horizon, taking in the imagery.

He didn't know when it appeared but one minute he was looking out at Sunrise and then he spotted the blackness ... it was slowly enveloping the beautiful scenery, stripping away the colour, leaving it cold and unwelcoming.

"Commander La Forge to the Enterprise," he tapped his communicator badge, something was happening and he didn't know what.

There was no response, after several attempts of trying he stopped, the darkness was coming closer and then Geordie was gone.

[feline-royalty.livejournal.com]

"Tybalt," the Montague breathed, his voice thick with emotion as the Prince of Cats sneered, fingers twitching for his Rapier, "the reason that I have to love thee doth much excuse the appertaining rage to such a greeting."

A greeting? It had been a death threat, nothing less, and Tybalt's sneer faded to confusion for a moment, before returning to his lips at least tenfold. The Montague was a coward, trying to cry his way out of justice after his tresspass on Capulet property, and no pretty words would allow Tybalt's pride to grant him any measure of forgiveness.

"Villain am I none. Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not."

And then Romeo's hand raised, a gesture of peace, and Tybalt's glance raced desperately around the faces of those of his kinsmen, gathered there on the shore at his heels. No. No, he wouldn't have any of it, any of this pathetic display of shameless submission. His own hand flew, slapping that of the vile Montague out of his sight without further consideration, and words that were half bile rose in his throat, spat out in a snarl worthy of his reputation.

"Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries that thou hast done me!" Tybalt's boots pushed against the sand, propelling him forward as Romeo turned to leave. "Therefore turn, and draw!"

But Romeo refused. As Tybalt's boots kicked against his ribs, as he threw him against the ground and yelled at him to draw, and the wind whipped the sand past them while the sky grew ever darker. The Montague protested, pleaded once more for love, for peace, spoke words that left Tybalt feeling every bit as ill now as he had felt blind rage a moment before.

The sky darkened still more, and then it was Mercutio's turn to speak, to draw in Romeo's stead as the Montague took every blow that Tybalt dealt him. They fought. They fought to an audience of enemy blood, with Montague and Capulet both in attendance, and both men felt the sting of injury, saw their lifeblood patter to the sand. Neither was going to let this duel end before the other was breathing his last.

Tybalt fell, a pane of discarded glass shattering underneath him, and the Prince's kin rushed toward him, stopped only momentarily by Romeo's pleadings, prying himself free, righteous fury burning in his eyes. Tybalt's hand closed around the shard of glass as Mercutio came at him again, and still darker grew the day, until the beach fell completely under that sheet of most reviled pitch.

No more blood was shed that day. No worms-meat was made, no plagues were placed upon two of Verona's most dignified houses, no scratch, no scratch had the opportunity to be enough, for the Prince of Cats had never lived to fight the kin of the Prince at all.

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

It had started out as a normal day. Peter put on his webs and headed out into the city for a quick patrol before heading over to Stark's for his internship. But, naturally, something came up first. Something... weird.

"Hey! You with the dogs fleeing the pet store!" Spider-Man called out as he swung down in front of the criminal. "Just because you've got a couple armfuls of puppies doesn't mean you have to flea."

The criminal - a big guy in tiger-striped spandex - opened his mouth to show off a set of sharp teeth. Then he lunged forward to try to bite Spidey.

"Whoah!" Spider-Man said, flipping over the Tiger Man. "I know puns aren't everyone's thing but... Wait. You don't have armfulls of puppies. You... You don't have arms at all."

The Armless Tiger Man threw a puppy at Spider-Man. "Hey!" Spidey called out, catching the puppy gently and patting it on the head. "Look, I've known some pretty horrible guys, but NONE OF THEM have ever thrown puppies. Which just begs the question of how you were able to even--YIKES!"

Spider-Man had to catch a second puppy before dodging a kick from the Armless Tiger Man. Spider-Man flipped back, shifting both puppies to one arm as he fired a web to create a nice, soft web pillow on the ground. Landing behind the web pillow, Spider-Man put the puppies down on it before throwing down an ultimatum.

"Okay, buddy. I don't know what your problem is or how you're holding those puppies, but this ends now." Faster than Armless Tiger Man could react, several webs snagged the puppies hovering by the sides of his body. As each one was snagged, Spider-Man pulled the web, caught the puppy, and put it down on the web pillow, even as Armless Tiger Man tried to attack. Using his spider-sense and agility, it was just a matter of dodge, yank a puppy, web another one.

It wasn't long before all the puppies were free. Then to finish things off, a web hit Armless Tiger Man's face and puled him forward, right into a Spidey haymaker, knocking the criminal out.

One of the puppies hopped off the pillow and scurried over to Spider-Man, demanding belly scratches. "Okay," Spidey said. "Just don't tell anyone else I save today or they'll get jeal--AHHHH!"

Spider-Man fell backward from the severe pain in his head. It was the strongest feeling he'd ever received from his spider-sense. He didn't even have a chance to recover before the Nothing came through, taking him, Armless Tiger Man, the puppies, and all of New York with it.