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blood soaked and honor bound: sku

One dark and miserable night, a storm of immeasurable proportions raged over the small cluster of buildings- lighting and thunder dueling across the sky in a merciless battle, unheeding of the fate of those pathetic creatures who lie below, their only thoughts focused on their survival of the great impending storm. Never before had they each been so alone, so completely isolated that the only force which could possibly be greater than the piercing cold of the air around them was the force of the piecing cold deep within each of their frigid hearts. In one deserted alley way, barely shielded from the frozen rain which pelted and impaled without remorse, anything which had not sought refuge, sought sanctuary from its clammy hands, a lone four legged figure nosed its way, weaving from pile to pile of refuse, seeking something, anything that could ease the painful pang, known to any being who has ever crawled the face of the earth, and caused only by that red-eyed monster, that demon, Hunger.

Nearby, creatures of misfortune, perhaps only slightly luckier than those before them who passed on to the nether realms, a hand full of small children, dejected and bedraggled, huddled beneath a paltry ledge, seeking warmth from their companion's fragile and frail bodies, warmth were there was none to be found. Not far from wretched mass, stands one small red-haired child, outcast and alone, a rejected ambassador, sent out on a mission of mercy. Now soaked through from the chill of the unforgiving rain, he glances back as his brothers and sisters of circumstance, recalling briefly that moment where he was chosen from the many to complete an impossible mission, to wander forever, destined never to return from his hopeless quest for sustenance. There is something noble about his stance, perhaps an air of acceptance, or maybe he discovered the hollow emptiness akin… no, not akin, but that which makes him one with the hollow emptiness of the night.

Another creature of the night, older, though not wiser than his brethren of the storm, has sought shelter in a small lodge, separate from the unforgiving community which now hides from the fiery lightning, the anger of the ancients, manifested and terrible, tangible in both air and spirit. This man, old eyes set in a young, haggard face, blocks both the chill and the resounding din with a mind that has long since turned to the deeper and darker side of consciousness, that wild, savage thing which loathes the day, and preys in the shadows of ignorance. He pens frantically, the scratch of ink on paper, trailing slowly yet steadily to unsheathe his innermost passions, sanity where there is none to be found, and in the hopes of bringing the dark, the night, the fire, the horror, the blood to those who believed themselves safe from the real monsters, he creates. To cast the spell into the defenseless souls through these words, offering closure to the damned, as far as the Ends of the World…

With a patented 'Ohhh!', Wakaba grabs the life history of Edgar Allen Poe from Mikage's hands and throws it out the window. "Let's go to McDonald's!"

The Quiz Page

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the lively and active employees, new to the world of fast food, Ka-chan and Becka sit as far away from the life sized, brightly color, widely smiling statue of the infallibly benevolent Ronald McDonald as possible. The former munches heartily on a large 20-piece Chicken McNuggets while the later sips amiably on a medium Diet Coke.

The two girls sit off to one side in an unnoticed corner, trying to hide from and generally ignoring the otherwise normal occupants at McDonald's. There is a surprising amount of activity, even though the time of day isn't a particularly busy one. A spasmodically twitching old lady sits in the corner opposite them, her gnarled and arthritic fingers clutched around several packages of that ridiculously tasty barbecue sauce. A second old lady, this time one with trademark slightly blue hair stands at the condiments station, stuffing packs of Sweet'n'low into her purse. She looks nervously into her Mary Poppins like handbag every three minutes, and glowers evilly at anyone else who approaches the stand for ketchup. The main source of noise, other than the soft jazz of elevator music being playing, is the family of multiple and annoyingly *present* children. They sit no where in particular, in fact, they do not appear to sit at all, but rather, they bound from chair to chair, table to table, countertop to countertop with the greatest of ease. The sole exception is the infant in the high chair who screams indignantly for attention. Their parents are no where to be found, and it is highly believed among the staff that they have taken residence in the bathrooms, because not even the security cameras saw them leave. The children seem to have no effect on the small, rather cute, little boy in the oversized set of drab scruffy clothes, complete with large, drooping rounded cap. Somehow the words 'slave of duty' seem to apply to this lad, whose name shall remain unknown, but for simplicity sake, we shall call him Oliver Twist. He seems completely preoccupied with the endless and thankless task of sweeping the floor. And the rest of the staff isn't much of an improvement. First, there is a garrulous blonde behind the counter, with enough makeup (at least, we hope it's makeup) that her face could turn a small army into convincing drag queens. She seems oblivious to everything except the small brush she uses to paint her nails an interesting color of flaming orange. Next, a buxom black woman struts self importantly from one of the registers to her countertop, which leads to the outside world. She takes and gives orders in a garbled voice that has -nothing- to do with the outdated piece of microphone she's using. A small list of receipts has piled up on another counter close to her. Those receipts are the orders that no one seems to be filling… and no customers seem to be waiting for them, for that matter. Her monotonous question of, "Mah ah tek yo odoor?" is generally ignored. A black man leans a few feet to the side, looking bored. In the bowels of the kitchen the rest of the staff stamps on the meat patties to make sure they're dead.

Suddenly, the doors swing open, heads swivel up, and even the meat patties squish with the certainty that something interesting is about to befall this small town McD's. And in a way, they're right. In the following long line, most of the student body of Ohtori Academy enters: Utena, Anthy, Saionji, Wakaba, Juri, Shiori, Ruka, Akio, Kanae, Touga, Nanami, Tsuwabuki, Suzuki, Yamada, Tanaka, Aiko, Keiko, Yuuko, Miki, Kozue, Dios, Chuchu, a small spectrum of Monkey Mice, Mikage, Mamiya, Tokiyo, with A-ko, B-ko, and C-ko trailing in the shadows. Unfortunately, the animal population, including the elephants, snails, Mr. Mongoose, octopi, the boxing kangaroo, Rabbits of Doom, and Touga's kitten, was forced to stay in the Akio-Car and circle the drive-through window.

That is who came in, however, the population of the McDonald's didn't quite see it that way: first, a tall, lanky, pink-haired, blue-eyed, dressed-like-a-boy-but-shaped-like-a-girl teenager walked in. The mass population responded to her appearance with the thoughts, "It's a boy! But it's a girl! And it's pink!" Following directly at her right hand was an elegant, timid, Indian lady with surprisingly complimentary purple hair and glasses (which seemed much too large for her head). The lady was, well, pursued by a tall, *green*, nervously schizophrenic guy who's hand never leaves the sword that hangs at his side. His other hand clutched a small replica doll of the woman in front of him. An energetic, happy, bouncing ball of girl skipped behind him, and in circles around him, too, for that matter. The next person in line, a beautiful, golden woman with a curly head full of matching, golden locks (an angel, some would call her, and a pissed-off bitch, the other few) glides gracefully forward, scanning the area with the eyes of judgement day at a speed that could rival superman. An oddly normal girl with reddish purple hair (not unlike a CVS bought dye-job) drags a tall, pointy, navy-haired man… and his sword. Next there is a man who simply cannot be defined. He wears tight, white pants that call to mind spandex, and a maroon long-sleeved shirt. Out of one of his pockets hangs the buckled sleeve, which could only belong to a straight jacket. The others give him wide berth, though the original occupants cannot see why because… damn, look at the smile! An angry light-green-haired woman is the sole exception who follows him closely, brandishing not a sword, but a rolling pin… at his head. All breath simultaneously ceases as a vision enters the door, a vision with long red hair, a god-like vision who can only be described as a manly man. All hail that body, that face, that -hair-. God be damned if he isn't wearing a toga… and what a large sword he carries… *ahem* If one were to peel ones eyes away, one would find a petite blonde girl *attached* to his arm, attempting to be closer than the aforementioned spandex could ever be. At her heels trots a blonde boy, eyes downcast in silent awe, or reverence, whichever you prefer. Next they see a man… actually, they see -three- of him. The two old ladies do a triple-take and make a mental note to go get their glasses checked. A triad of teeny-boppers with a collective Attitude marches in suit, following that multiple man. Not far behind is a boy who appears to be in continual motion, or something like that, as his body wavers none-stop until he is naught but a smear. Some might call him the Flash… but blue. A girl with periwinkle hair enters, causing Oliver Twist to look up in awe and every female to look down in scorn. Many blinks are needed as a ghost of a man (literally) floats into the room, his cape billowing with an unnatural and not-present wind as he makes himself comfortable in the ceiling fan. A small train of multicolored rats squiggle in on the ground. Surprisingly, this did not alarm anyone. Once again, all breath stops as a second beautiful man, this one with shoulder-length pink hair and a defined face enters, his hand placed protectively on the shoulder of the young boy(?) next to him. Standing quite close behind the two was an older woman who bore faint resemblance to the young boy(?). Finally a particular movement caught everyone's eye as three girlish shadows bounce along after the line. They try to figure out who these shadows belong to but they just can't do it.

Becka and Karen, however, recognize this long and varied line, and while wondering what the hell they're doing in McDonald's, dive fearfully under the table. Several hours later, once they've think it's safe and/or can no longer ignore the special noise, the two crawl out from underneath the table which has been their sanctuary.

What they see is, perhaps, even worse then what they feared. Then again, knowing Becka and Ka-chan, most likely nothing could be worse than what they imagined. But it sure came pretty damn close. The following scene unfolded before them, albeit against their will.

Let's start with those of the cast who decided to do something normal (a.k.a. eat). Keiko, Aiko, and Yuuko, our self-proclaimed teeny-bopper trio, stay to one side of a table, daintily picking at identical happy meals. Their partners, Suzuki, Yamada, and Tanaka, sat across from them, alternately eating their own identical happy meals, and swinging around in circles on those spiffy mobile chairs.

Not too far from them, Miki and Kozue have their own table (on top of which Kozue happens to be wantonly lounging, but for posterity's state of mind, we won't go into that). Miki also has a happy meal, complete with four pieces of tender, tasty, chicken nuggets. He munches happily away, pointedly ignoring his sisters who happens to be "enjoying" her ice-cream a little too much. At a table directly adjacent to theirs, as opposed to indirectly adjacent to theirs, Juri, Shiori, and Ruka reside. Juri also amiable munches on her chicken nuggets, watching Kozue's free show, which was actually almost as good as the shows Juri normally paid inordinate amounts of money for. The other two occupants of the table were busy themselves, as Shiori tried to lovingly force-feed Ruka french fries. Ruka, on the other hand, or rather, at Shiori's hand, was choking.

Off to one corner, rather close to the spasmodically twitching lady, Utena and Wakaba enjoy their respective meals. Utena leans forward on one elbow, watching the playground outside, and absently eating a quarter pounder with cheese, the occasional french fry, and a sip or two of diet coke. Her best friend, however, needed something more to fulfill the growling in the pit of her stomach (emphasis on the word "pit"). In front of her, stretched out on two tables, lay her dinner, which included twelve packs of french fries, eleven hot fudge sundaes, ten apple pies, nine quarter pounders, eight egg McMuffins, seven sloppy milkshakes, six fillets of fish, five happy meals, four frosty cokes, three BigMacs, and two foaming coffees.

Someone, somewhere, mutters, "And a partridge in a pear tree."

Mikage pouted profusely at the loss of his book, tugging on Wakaba's sleeve in an attempt to divert her drooling stare from her food. He might have tried a little harder to divert her attention if he had realized that she, and everyone else for that matter, had the their food on a tab in his name.

Meanwhile, at the counter, Saioniji was nearly thrown out of McDonald's for the harassing the staff as to the exact reason -why- they do not serve sushi, however, he challenged the janitor to an honor duel for his right to stay. Needless to say, yet somehow we feel the need to say it anyway, as we tend to do (in case you haven't noticed), Saioniji won. Considering he was using a sword, and our poor Oliver had naught to defend his meager existence save the broom he held in his hand, we think it's obvious why that was needless to say.

Elsewhere, Chuchu bathes in the soda machine, as Dios contemplates the great mysteries of McD's. For example, he holds, or at least attempts to hold, one of the ketchup packets in his hand, all the while wondering as to why there is no mustard. While his godly mind is hard at work trying to understand these matter, A-ko, B-ko, and C-ko giggles softly while playing the shadows of the immense forest of plastic plants which separate one set of tables from another.

Back at the counter, Mamiya and Tokiyo continue to order more food, constantly adding to Mikage's bill and Wakaba's nonexistent waistline. Speaking of food, one would have to notice Nanami, dressed in what appears to be a spandex version of a food inspectors uniform… in yellow. Of course, that's taking into account that food inspectors wear big, flashy bows, just because. Tsuwabuki trails after her, as always, her faithful assistant with clipboard, as she somehow finds fault not with the fact there are foot prints on her Big Mac, but that there is a hair in her soda (one that happens to be hers, for that matter).

Anthy, also present in the back kitchen, politely offers her cooking services, and all of America, Japan, and for that matter, the world, should be grateful that curry is not one of the delicacies McDonalds is known to make.

Outside, Kanae sips her cup of carefully labeled hot tea as she guards the entrance of the Play Place with her rolling pin. Inside the Play Place you can find two of out more -prominent- Utena cast members. The first of these currently lurks in the tubes of the playground, doing things which would make even Howard Stern blush. Akio is his name, and McDonalds is his new game. The other, more appealing activity in the Play Place radiates from the pen of plastic balls, where Touga has abducted several model like men and women, and is currently attempting to initiate a harem.

Once again, needless to say, Becka and Ka-chan fear. Becka mutters something to the effect of, "Invite them to dinner; invite them to duel; but -never- invite to McDonalds."

Ka-chan's response: "Amen."

Noting the horror, fear, and general mayhem that the Utena cast has inflicted on the original denizens of McDonalds, Becka takes control… sort of. Becka calls attention to herself, then points to the exits which Saionji currently guards with his sword, and which happen to be the only exits, save those which pass through the Play Place, therefore, the only viable escape route. She shouts, "Who wants to get the hell out of here?"

All of McDonald's original inhabitants glance about nervously, then raise their hands. Ka-chan too, enthusiastically jumps up and down, waving both hands in the air, and calling "ME! ME! ME!" with uncontainable fervor.

Nodding to herself, Becka grabs a hand full of napkins from a nearby dispenser and covertly writes upon them. She distributes them to each raised hand, saving two- one for Karen, and one for herself. Karen regards the covertly written message in red, then turns to Becka.

"A message written in blood?"

Becka shakes her head, "Nah- ketchup. There wasn't any mustard." She proceeds to lick her fingers.

Hoping up on top of a nearby table, Becka points to the napkin. "This is a quiz. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to -answer- this quiz, correctly of course. Whosoever completes this napkin correctly, shall be granted passage through the gates of heave… I mean, through the green haired one. Good luck, and may the force be with you."

Karen bows, hands folded reverently, "And also with you."

"In honor of the grand opening of the Quiz Page (a.k.a. we finally finished -writing- it) we have a special offer. The first person who answers the following question -correctly- will get a spiffy prize from us. This prize is to be written into one of the introductions for the page -or- to be written into a piece of fanfiction with the character(s) of your choice. Keep in mind, this -isn't- an easy question (and basically there's no way in hell you'll get it right without random luck), but we hope you have fun trying to figure out the answer. And now, the question…" Becka hands Karen the napkin.

 - List, in chronological order, the introductions/pages of Blood Soaked and Honor Bound: Shoujo Kakumei Utena, as they were written. - 

"Below is a list of pages. You must put all of them in the correct order to win. Obviously, this will take quite some time, therefore we will take the first winner. If you think, somehow, you've managed to get the right answer, please send it to Becka (SilvVenom@aol.com) with the words, 'The Quiz Answer' in the header." Karen snickers evilly at her plot to give Becka even -more- useless mail. "Please note that one person can answer as many times as they wish, as there are 8.222838654 x 10^33 answers... however, we do not recomment trying every single one."

The pages you must use are: "101 Reasons Why" Page Introduction; "101 Reasons Why We Hate Akio" List/Introduction; "101 Reasons Why We Love Touga" List; "101 Reasons Why We Love Touga" Introduction; "101 Reasons Why We Want To Be The Akio Car" List; "101 Reasons Why We Want To Be Utena" List/Introduction; "About Utena" Introduction; "Adventures of the Akio Car"; "Characters" Introduction; "Chicks" Introduction; "Creative Information" Introduction; "Creators" Introduction; "Disclaimer"; "Fanfiction" Introduction; "Fanmail" Introduction; "FAQ" Introduction; Guestbook; "Link List" Introduction; "Milk Adds" Introduction; "Say What?" Introduction; "Special Picture Page" Introduction; "The Awards" Introduction; "The Menu" Introduction; "The Quiz Page" Introduction; "You Know You Watch Too Much Utena When" Introduction; "Updates" Introduction; "Updates" Page; "Utena ABCs"; "Utena Fairy Tales" Introduction; "Utena Pants Page" Introduction; and "Webring" Introduction

Becka bows her head in defeat, and murmurs a soft prayer. Karen recovers slightly from shock, then speaks. "Dios have mercy on your souls."

 

 

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