One of the rules that almost every creative-writing class emphasizes is that you don't stop writing when you hit a brick wall - you just write something else.
So, here's something else, using as its premise a thought that's been nagging at the back of my brain ever since I watched the anime... While it doesn't say so anywhere in the story, it's set between DW III and DW IV.
Bob, if this passes muster, let me know; I'll send you a copy with all the HTML markup already in.

DRUNKARD'S STAGGER: A DAY IN THE LIFE
By Rob Kelk
Based on the Drunkard's Walk fanfic cycle
(created by Robert M. Schroeck)
and Princess Nine
(created by Kensei Date)

This story contains spoilers for the end of Princess Nine.

"Don't cry,
Look up at the sky,
You can see the future
Between the gray clouds."
-- translated from Princess Nine, by SHOUYOU

I don't know why I was surprised. The song that got me to this world was Take Me Out to the Ball Game -- I should have expected to land on an Earth where baseball was the big sport. I don't know whether they even play baseball in Japan back home, but they love it here ...
Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself. My name's Doug Sangnoir, I'm a professional good guy, and I've spent most of the last five years wandering from alternate world to alternate world, trying to find my way home.
I've been on this Earth for nearly two weeks. From my point of view, it's a quiet world. I've heard vauge rumors about people with metahuman abilities (like me), but I haven't seen any evidence of any native to this world. The Japanese aren't borderline-xenophobic here, the way they are back home. There aren't any armed conflicts worse than minor border skirmishes going on. (Korea is split down the middle, and the Arabs and Jews don't like each other, but nobody's called out even the light artillery over either of those problems.) There's no sign of any illicit conspiracies, criminal or otherwise. And there's isn't any hint of a company that could become another GENOM.
It's boring.
Maybe that's why baseball is so popular here -- it's a distraction from the banality of everyday life. Or maybe it's because there's a team from an all-girls school trying to get to Koshien, the Japanese-high-school equivalent of the World Series, this year. From the newspaper stories, it looks like they're the first girls' team to even be allowed to try (which was my first hint that they don't have full gender equality here yet).
I decided to take an afternoon off and see them play last week. They're good -- their pitcher's a "natural", and most of the others are almost that good. Many of them would be in line for professional contracts in some of the worlds I had visited; here, I doubt they'll be able to use their gifts anywhere outside of a school yard unless they're very lucky.
I have a ticket for their next game. The girls are playing the team from their brother school -- a team that's said to be as good as they are, and by all reports has the best batter in the high-school league. This ought to be good.

* * *

We lost. We aren't going to Koshien this year.
And it's my fault.
I know what I have to do.
Nobody will miss me, anyway.

* * *

Shame about the girls not winning this afternoon, but they did a pretty good job considering how badly some of them were off their game for the first eight innings.
I did some historical research after the game -- the more I can find out about other worlds' versions of Japan, the more likely we'll figure out why the Japanese back home are so insular and racist. (Maybe there's something in my subconscious that aims me at so many worlds' Japans, just so I can get this information. I'm not going to complain about it.) But it's only because I stayed at the library until they closed that I was motoring across the Rainbow Bridge at the right time.
About halfway across the bridge, I noticed a pedestrian -- a teenaged girl, from the height and hair. It wasn't until I was even with her that I realized she was climbing the guardrail.
I didn't know what honor code the locals lived by, and I didn't care. Even if she was acting in accordance with local laws and customs, I couldn't let her kill herself. I stopped my bike as quickly as I could safely, turned around (luckily, there wasn't any other traffic that evening), and headed back to the girl. But I doubt she'd trust a stranger ... unless I tweaked the situation with my metatalent.
(Earlier, I mentioned that I have metahuman abilities. The important one in this case is my ability to get powerful or subtle effects from music. I carry a large music collection with me, in a voice-activated computer built into my helmet.)
There were any number of things I could have done, some of which would have been more effective in the short term, but the long-term effects of the one I chose would be better all around -- if it worked. If it didn't, well, I could always switch songs to The Chain and grab her before she hit the water, and worry about the long term after saving her life. "" I told my helmet in English, ". Play song.>"
""
It didn't take very long to get back to where the girl was about to jump off the bridge. I turned my bike back around so I was pointing the right way for traffic, and turned on the parking lights. "Excuse me, miss," I yelled to her in Japanese as I pulled a local map out of the bike's pannier, "could you help me find the U.S. Embassy on this map?"
"I'm a bit busy, sir ..." she answered in a quiet voice without turning around.
"I know, and I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd be able to help me if I wait for you to finish what you're doing. Please?"
She sighed, swung her weight back, and jumped back, off the railing and onto the sidewalk. Then she turned around to look at me. She was a pretty girl in her mid-teens -- she'll be a heartbreaker when she grows up. If she grows up. I had a nagging feeling that I'd seen her somewhere before ... but that wasn't important just then. She walked over and looked at the map that I offered, and we spent about a minute figuring out how to get from here to there.


We spent an hour talking about her.
The song's effects had worn off long before we reached Cafe Kawasumi, the first place we could find to get coffee, but she didn't seem to notice. We walked in, placed our orders, and sat at a table near the door (so she could leave whenever she wanted).
Neither of us said anything for a minute. Finally, she whispered, "Thank you, sir."
"For the coffee? Think nothing of it," I answered with a smile.
"No," she replied. "For stopping me from throwing myself off the bridge."
Ah. She didn't really want to kill herself ... which puzzled me all the more. "If you don't mind, why were you going to jump, miss -- What is your name?"
"Azuma Yuki."
Where had I heard that name before ... oh, yes. "The baseball player?" She nodded. "I saw you play today. Oh, where are my manners? My name's Sangnoir Doug. Pleased to meet you, Azuma-san."
"Pleased to meet you, Sangnoir-san."
Formalities (belated as they were) out of the way, I steered the conversation back to Miss Azuma. "You're a very good outfielder, Azuma-san. Do you plan to make a career out of playing baseball?"
She flinched slightly, then looked at her lap.
"Why not?" I asked.
If I hadn't heard her speak normally on the bridge, I'd be wondering whether she could speak above a whisper. "I shouldn't do anything to stand out."
Oh, dear. It looked like this was another case of "the nail that sticks out gets hammered down", with the girl's psyche getting hammered at the same time.
The coffee arrived just then. We both waited until the waitress left before continuing.
I asked leading questions; Yuki replied in the shortest phrases possible. To summarize what she said, it was an extreme case of the nail that stuck out getting hammered down. She was MVP on her junior-high softball team, but the other girls on the squad (I hesitate to call them her "teammates") punished her for being better than they were. They pushed Yuki away so hard, and the adults in her life did such a good job of ignoring what was going on, that she tried to kill herself.
This is where Yuki's story gets a bit odd. She claimed that she was stopped from trying a second time to suicide by Fifi, an alien from the planet Yukara, 18 light-years from Earth. Back home, the Warriors (the organization that I belong to) didn't know of any planet by that name, or any habitable planet at that distance from Earth, so this part of her story might be a delusion that Yuki constructed to cope with what was happening to her. But this wasn't my home universe, so Yuki might have been telling the unvarnished truth.
Fifi became Yuki's only friend (poor girl) through the rest of junior high, and helped her by telling her things that she needed to know. This continued through most of Yuki's first year of senior-high school. Fifi would tell Yuki things about the baseball games she was playing, or in one case something about one of her teammates (Yuki didn't say what, and I didn't pry). Yuki would act on what Fifi told her, and things would turn out well.
(At that point, I wondered whether she was a precog who had worked her metatalent into her delusion. Assuming it was a delusion; I couldn't ignore the possibility that Fifi was real, and a precog.
But I thought it more important to listen to her story than to take the time to examine her under magesight. Besides, the other people in the cafe would have thought I was leering at her if I did that, and neither of us needed that kind of reputation.
So I'll never know.
Anyway.)
About a week ago, Fifi left Yuki. (One way or the other.) Her current teammates -- I have no hesitation calling them that -- rallied around Yuki, kept her from retreating into despair, and got her started on the road to recovery. The fact that they were winning game after game helped to re-build Yuki's self-esteem, too.
Then came the game that they had lost this afternoon. It had gone into extra innings, the other team's star batter came to bat, and he hit one over the fence -- just above Yuki's glove.
She was looking at her lap again. "If I had worked harder, maybe I could have caught the ball. It's my fault we lost."
I shook my head. "I was there, remember? Azuma-san, you climbed the wall to try to grab that ball! There was nothing else you could have done to catch it."
She looked up. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "I'm positive. And it wasn't your fault that you lost. Half your team were playing below par; if any one of them was on their game today, you could have won."
I didn't expect that comment to get Yuki to show emotion, but it did. "It's not Ryo-san's fault we lost! Or Izumi-san's. Or ..." Then the anger flowed out of her as quickly as it had arrived. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be sorry for having emotions, Azuma-san, or for standing up for your friends. Those are good things." I took a sip of my coffee. "It wasn't any one person's fault that you lost today. Something was going on -- I don't know what, and I don't care what -- but something kept your team from playing at its best. It's nobody's fault, or it's everybody's fault, but it isn't your fault."
A ghost of a smile danced on her face. She's cute when she smiles. "Thank you, Sangnoir-san."
"You're welcome. There is something you, all of you, should do because of your loss, but killing yourselves isn't it."
She looked surprised. "Oh?"
"Yes. What you should be doing is getting ready for next year. You came this far this year -- with a bit more work, you can go even farther. But that means you all need to practice, practice, practice."
Yuki sighed at my comment. "You sound like you're a baseball coach."
"No, just somebody who enjoys watching a good game. Do you want more coffee?"
She stood up. "Thank you, but no. I should be getting back to my teammates. They might be worried about me." She started toward the door, then turned back. "Will you come see us play again, Sangnoir-san?"
I shook my head. "Probably not, Azuma-san. I doubt I'll still be in Japan for your next game. But I wish you luck."
Then she walked out of my life, and into her own.

* * *

Yes, we lost. We aren't going to Koshien this year.
But there's always next year ...

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Credits and Acknowledgements

"Douglas Q. Sangnoir," "Looney Toons", "The Loon" and any representations thereof are copyright by and trademarks of Robert M. Schroeck, and are used with his permission.
"The Warriors", "Warriors' World", "Warriors International" and "Warriors Alpha" are all jointly-held trademarks of The Warriors Group.
The Drunkard's Walk fanfic cycle was created by Robert M. Schroeck, and is used with his permission.
Princess Nine was created by Kensei Date. The Princess Nine anime was written by Hiro Maruyama, directed by Tomomi Mochizuki, and copyright (C) 1998 Kensei Date / Phoenix / NEP21.
Lyrics from Princess Nine (performed by Miki Nagasawa and Mami Kingetsu) were originally written in Japanese by SHOUYOU and copyright (C) 1998 Nippon Columbia Co., Ltd. The English translation, uncredited in the North American CD liner notes, is copyright (C) Animetrax LLC.
Lyrics from Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood (performed by The Animals) were written by B.Benjamin/S.Marcus/C.Cadwell. The copyright holder is unknown to me.
All excerpted lyrics are used under provisions of copyright laws and international copyright treaties which permit quoting of limited selections of text in other works.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Concordance
And there's isn't any hint of a company that could become another GENOM.
After the events of Drunkard's Walk II, this is something that Doug would be on the lookout for in any late-20th- or early-21st-century alternate Japan he visits.
Cafe Kawasumi
A nod to Ayako Kawasumi, the voice actress who originally played Yuki Azuma.

(Edit for formatting.)
-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

I was re-reading DW2 and something struck me, Doug worries about getting tools to fix his motorcyle, and I am surprised that no-one has suggested (to my knowlegde at least) any song that creates tools, since you are often enough caught without the right tools for the job on hand even if they do exist in that particular universe. So does anyone have any suggestions? I was looking at a few songs but none of them where quite right.
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

That this song's come up before, somewhere, but I just thought of an absolutely perfect power for it.

I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride
With sword and pistol by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five
But I am still alive.
I was a sailor. I was born upon the tide
And with the sea I did abide.
I sailed a schooner round the Horn to Mexico
I went aloft and furled the mainsail in a blow
And when the yards broke off they said that I got killed
But I am living still.
I was a dam builder across the river deep and wide
Where steel and water did collide
A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado
I slipped and fell into the wet concrete below
They buried me in that great tomb that knows no sound
But I am still around..I'll always be around..and around and around and
around and around
I fly a starship across the Universe divide
And when I reach the other side
I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I'll be back again, and again and again and again and again...
I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride
With sword and pistol by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five
But I am still alive.

I am turning to the more knowledgeable people here for recommendations for a song which fits a situation...
which is being stuck millions of miles away from home.. space and other dimensions apply to this scenario
anybody got anything? _______________________________
We are the swords in the darkness, the watchers on the walls. The fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn. The horn that wakes the sleepers. The shield that guards the realms of men. -The Brothers Black
_________________________________
Take Your Candle, Go Light Your World.

Writing a Drunkard's Stagger has one non-obvious problem: when I use music from the radio or suggestions from the group, I have to end off paragraphs in the credits with the phrase "Copyright holder unknown to me." I don't like doing that...
I've tracked down copyright information for a few songs on the Internet, but the "information wants to be free" mentality means this information isn't usually provided. (Spot the logical fallacy in play here.) In some cases, I managed to track down the performers' websites, but came up empty-handed.
Then I realized: If anybody has copyright information for music, then so do the regulars here. Who can help me with these songs?
(I've slipped in a few songs that I'm not using, and not listed a few that I am using, just to preserve a bit of mystery...)

"76 Trombones", performer unknown, from the soundtrack to "The Music Man"
"99 Red Balloons", sung by Gabriela "Nena" Kerner, written by Kevin McAlea.
"Break On Through (To The Other Side)", by The Doors.
"Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood", performed by The Animals, written by B.Benjamin/S.Marcus/C.Cadwell.
"Friends of Mr. Cairo", by Jon and Vangelis.
"Herculean Bellboy", by Young and Sexy. (This piece hasn't been discussed yet. I'm seeing it as a "Nodwick" song, one way or another...)
"I Am the Slime", by Frank Zappa.
"I Will Follow Him", by The Chiffons(?)
[Edit: No, actually by Peggy March. Bob and I both had this one wrong... It was released in 1963 by RCA-Victor, but I don't know whether they, she, or someone else holds the copyright.]
"I'll Play For You", by Seals and Crofts.
"Knock on Wood", written by Eddie Floyd and Steve Cropper.
"Montage", performer unknown, from the "Team America" soundtrack.
Edit: Copyright 2004 Paramount Pictures
"Nemo", by Nightwish.
"Over the Top", sung by Miki Matsubara, from the "Dirty Pair: Project E.D.E.N." soundtrack.
"Raining Again", by Moby.
"Rubber Band Man", performed by The Spinners, written by Linda Creed and Thom Bell.
"She's So Cold", by the Rolling Stones, written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.
"Stalin's Organs", by GWAR.
"These Dreams", performed by Heart, written by Martin Page.
"Working My Way Back To You", by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.
"You May Be Right", by Billy Joel.

-Rob Kelk
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

This is the Political half of a thread started in general discussion.
I've noticed myself that other search engines turn up more conservative sites than goggle.
I started weaning myself from Goggle when they caved to the chinese government and started to use Yahoo, but then yahoo caved to the Chinese so now I"m looking for another full time search engine.
www.riehlworldview.com/ca...a_dan.html
americanthinker.com/artic...le_id=5517

howard melton
God bless

X3 ... well, it was a pretty good movie, but if I start bitching about it here I'll never stop.
Instead, a short ficlet set sometime around the second movie, with a character I've wanted to bring out for a while now.
Actually, I'm writing - or trying to write, at least - an original story with a chara who's been based off of this guy as the centerpiece.
In my defense, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Happens around the time of X2 or so.

I realize this one is unlikely to exist in Warriors World as it's about the Classic DC comics character The Flash (2 - Barry Allen rather then Wally West, Jay Garrick or Bart Allen), but it's worth a look. To quote Wikipedia, A song by the band Jim's Big Ego on their album, "They're Everywhere". The song portrays Barry as a tragic character, whose perception of the world is so accelerated that all of reality appears to proceed at a snail's pace, causing him to gradually slip into depression. The band's front man, Jim Infantino is the nephew of Flash co-creator Carmine Infantino who provided the cover art for the same album.

The Ballad Of Barry Allen - Jim's Big Ego

I've got time to think about the beauty of a thousand variations,
Of the beating of the wing, of a hummingbird suspended
In the aspic of the world,
Moving slower than molasses,
As I'm off to catch the girl, who is falling off the bridge
And I'm there before she knows it,
I'll be gone before she sees me
Got my hand around her waste,
I pull her back to safety
By the time she knows what's happened
They'll be someone else who needs me
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
(Time keeps dragging on)
(Time keeps dragging on)
I've got time to think about my past,
As I dodge between the bullets
And my life was so exciting
Before I got this way
And how long ago it was now
I never can explain
By the clock that's in the tower
Or the one that's in my brain
And I'm there before you know it
I'll be one before you see me
And I'd like to get to know you
But you're talking much too slowly
And I know you wanna thank me
But I never stick around
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And you say that time keeps rushing by
It seems so slow to me
And you see a blur around you fly
But it takes too long
It seems so slow to me
(Time keeps dragging on)
I wish I'd never gone into my lab
To experiment that night
Before lightning flashed around me
And time changed speed
Now I've gotta try to be so patient
'Till calamity will strike
Because when things change in an instant
It's almost fast enough for me
And I'm there before you know it
I'll be gone before you see me
And do you think you can imagine
Anything so lonely?
And I know you'd really like me
But i never stick around
'Cause time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
And on
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me
And you see a blur around you fly
It takes so long, It seems so slow
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me (Time keeps dragging on)
You complain I'm gone before you blink your eye
But it takes so long, It seems so slow
And you say that time goes rushing by
It seems so slow to me (Time keeps dragging on)
And wanna be there while you laugh or cry
But it takes too long, It seems so slow to me
Time keeps dragging on
Time keeps dragging on
And on
And on
And on
In power terms I think this would grant Doug super speed or time dilation to Flash-levels, with the possible side effect of causing him great depression. That an the time difference to him would cause a single use of the song to last for days to his perspective.
You can download the song for about a dollar at the band's site www.bigego.com/index.php?...isplay=327
This is a very cool smooth song, and it really highlights for me the dark side of having superpowers, the alienating effect they must have. The lines "I'll be there before you know it, I'll be gone before you see me and do you think you could imagine anything so lonely?" Always gets to me. However the song isn't a depressing mess or anything, the catchy pop beat has endeared it to me forever, plus the fact that it references a superhero other than superman gives it huge points. I highly recommend it for fans of the flash or comics in general. For a buck it's more then worth it.
(A site with a brief description of the song and character) www.grabbingsand.com/word...ys-ballad/
(Review of the album with emphasis on the song)
www.comictreadmill.com/CT...000341.php

While cleaning my room, I recently found a story I had written several years ago. I revised it, but I'd appreciate any C&C. This is the first part of it. In particular, the original version had basically no description of the various characters. Reading it now, are you getting a sense for the various characters? Can you see them? Should I add more description? Less? Also, is this an interesting start? Would you want to read more of this story? Yes, no, why?
Thanks. Again, any C&C is greatly appreciated.
--
Disclaimer: All the characters, with the sole exception of Taryn and her company, is of 3DO, the makers of Heroes of Might and Magic III.
The fly glided into a perfect landing. Its antennas quivered as it contemplated the great mysteries of the universe namely, whether or not the blood would gush forth, hot and full of vitality. Folding its wings back, it settled itself, adjusted its position, and extended its utensil, as a diner would prepare for a meal. A moment later, the fly died an ignoble death.
Tkeshins arse! Whose idiot idea was this? Taryn grimaced as she shook the fly guts off her hand then glanced backward to assess her companys status. Seeing the all clear signal from her lieutenants, she turned back. At six feet tall, she towered over many a man (to their dismay) and her broad shoulders enabled her to carry the heavy armor of a cavalier when she wore it anyway. Ring mail was hot and heavy especially when there was not a cloud in sight, and Taryn had compromised by wearing a leather jerkin. Her dirty blond hair spiked out beneath a battered helm and dark green eyes slid sideways. As she took in her companions calm composure, she muttered and irritably swiped at the sweat beading on her forehead.
The person in question stared ahead, head covered by a heavy, brown hood and form almost swallowed in the cloak attached to it, but sharply defined cheekbones, fairly dark complexion, and dark brown eyes made up the profile. Adela was somewhat infamous in Erathia for her past record as a battle cleric who contributed her skills only prior to a battle, preferring to conduct diplomacy instead. With the start of the war to liberate Erathia and establish its borders though, every potential commander was needed, and shed been placed in command of the Whitestone garrison for some time before being sent to help establish the border against aggressive neighbors.
Taryn, as a mercenary captain, had even been on the opposite side a number of times but the one side shed never been on was the side of the Deyjan necromancers. Leo and Co.s ill-fated venture with Deyja was a warning to all mercenaries. Necromancers gained troops by raising the dead; if you were the sole living company amongst that ilk well, Leo had never been known for his intelligence.
You are paid for this, Adela pointed out. Unlike
Us heroes. A sneer was palpable in the voice. The Eminent and Most Noble, Most Stalwart, and Most Loyal Lord Haart, lately nicknamed Lord Bastard in Taryns thoughts, thrust his horse between the two riders with Sir Christian at his heels. Lord Haart had wavy red-brown hair cascading around his face to his shoulders. His face, the object of girls sighs all over Erathia and more recently, a lovelorn poets verse, was patrician and his eyebrows loomed over his black eyes. A silver circlet and a large topaz adorned his brow.
Likewise, Sir Christian also wore a circle, although of bronze, with a diamond-shaped area to mark the middle of his brow. His overall appearance, though, was rugged with shaggy red hair, a thin mustache, and a beard, reminiscent of the time he spent as a frontiersman. Sir Christian was actually the better general, his battlefield tactics being feared throughout the world, but Lord Haart was nobility, a distant relative to Queen Catherine, and his service to the crown of Erathia, despite recent rumors of ties to a necromantic cult, has been exemplary. To not put Lord Haart in command would have been an insult not only to Lord Haart but potentially to Her Majesty, Queen Catherine.
Farking politics.
We do this for the glory of Erathia and her majesty, Queen Catherine. A mercenary scum like you has no sense of tactics or strategy, much less any concept of honor or loyalty.
Taryn stiffened but made no comment.
Lord Haart. Sir Christian. Adela bowed slightly in her saddle. An awkward silence followed. When it was clear that Taryn refused to greet him, Lord Haarts eyes narrowed.
His voice cold, he said, Im surprised your company has survived with your lack of manners, Captain. I suggest you brush up on them if you wish your hiring opportunities to continue in Erathia. The words hung in the air. After a moment, Lord Haart nodded curtly and continued forward to the head of the column with Sir Christian.
Adela let loose a sigh and eyed Taryn.
Ill be more polite tonight.
The march continued.
***

Okay. I posted the first half of the first prologue below, for those of you who read it. This is the second prologue; it's not perfect and I'm not completely satisfied with the ending, but you take what you can get.
Oh, and regarding the situation with Rei... what's actually going on and what her adoptive father thinks is going on are two very different things.

Nearly ten years had passed since I had suddenly found myself in charge of the screwy ex-orphanage that I called a home. The sun rose, illuminating the golf-course that we called a front yard and lit up the post that used to hold the sign for the place before I gave up and decided to just adopt the six misfits, only to find the papers already filed. The light crept into the living room, where the photos showed the various types of mischief that a group of crazies such as ourselves could get into. Harry Potter was there, of course, tucked into his bed in his room on the second floor, but not for long. His oldest brother was awake and was demonstrating the rather surprising effectiveness of a technique he called the "hot foot".
Harry awoke with a start. Rekka snickered, extinguishing the ball of fire that he had in his hand.
"You think that's funny?" Harry asked, extending his now-glowing arm at his brother, who was promptly drenched.
"Are you up yet?" I asked from downstairs, where I was flipping some bacon for Gaara's breakfast. "We have a busy day today."
"Just a minute," two voices called, knowing that I wasn't to be annoyed from personal experience with my more... creative punishments.
Five minutes later, the whole family was seated at the dining-room table. "So, father, what do you have planned for today?" Rei asked after swallowing a bite of her cereal.
"Well," I replied, taking a second to form my response, "first, we're going into Tokyo; there's a new Naruto tankoubon out, and you know how Gaara gets when that happens."
Rekka shuddered, probably remembering what happened when he had torched one of Gaara's manga. He'd had to take laxatives for weeks to get all of the sand out of his colon. No one messed with Gaara's Naruto collection... or stood between him and anything he planned to add to it.
"After that, we're going to be visiting a zoo in England; there are some people who I want Harry to meet... or perhaps that should be 'meet again'."
Harry looked up at that. "Who?"
"Your relatives," I answered.
Robert stopped eating. "Why on earth would you want Harry to meet them?" he asked, his tone showing his contempt for the people in question.
I looked around the table and noticed that most of my kids seemed to agree with Robert's assessment, although Toushirou seemed to understand. "Because Harry needs to know," I said, suddenly rather tired. "I've told him what kind of people his so-called blood family is, but the one time he met them, he was too young to remember it. What's more, there are people who will want to put Harry back with them, and there's a chance that one of them will try to tell him that they're 'not so bad' or somesuch." Seeing my family's looks of disgust at that last bit, I decided to continue. "I'll fight that, of course," I reassured them, "but first-hand knowledge of the family in question will help Harry see through that kind of argument."
Toushirou gave me an odd look at that last bit. "Argument?" he asked, questioning my word-choice.
I shrugged. "It wouldn't be a lie strictly speaking," I responded. "The person in question actually manages to be more navely trusting than Nuku-Nuku, and would honestly believe it when he said that."
Somehow, that description of Albus Dumbledore actually managed to weird my family out.
"Look," I said, "we don't even know that they've turned out like they would have had Harry stayed with them. There's a chance that they've turned out to be less... oh, I don't know..."
Robert chirped up. "Xenophobic, racist bastards without a shred of human decency?"
Gaara smiled. "Morons who would have fit in perfectly with the Nazis?" he added.
I frowned. "Actually, no," I corrected. "The Dursleys actually had several valid complaints with the so-called Wizarding world. It doesn't excuse what they would have done, but I suspect that they simply displaced that onto Harry, then rationalized their behavior. I have to wonder how they've turned out without him there to take their frustrations out on. Regardless, they weren't fascists, so Gaara's description isn't accurate, although Robert's was rather uncannily so."
By this point, Harry was scowling fiercely into his Lucky Charms.
"Look at it this way," I finished, "if they turned out that way anyway, the zoo has a nice snake exhibit."
Considering the evil grin that suddenly graced Harry's features, I knew that I had said the right thing.
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Harry Potter and the Screwed-Up Life

Prologue Two

by

Aleh
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Two hours later, Harry, whose evil grin had faded into a smirk, was sitting in the back of a taxi with Rei and Robert. I was sitting in front, having left Gaara, Rekka and Toushirou with Nuku-Nuku, and reading a manga.
"Now, Robert, Harry," I said, having come to a decision, "remember -- behave yourselves. I don't want anything... odd... happening unless I start it."
"I'm not going to do anything," replied Robert, "honestly..."
Unfortunately, I didn't believe him. The problem was that screwy things happened all too often in our family, and, well, they were normally just part of life, but I wanted to at least give the Dursleys a chance, and the usual chaos that followed us around was a bit much at times, even for us. Once, Robert had come home from school with a group of three tenkaijuu -- the ancient variety; I still don't know where he found them, as the heavenly beasts aren't talking. Another time, Rekka had managed to get lost in Konohagakure after getting there through a closet on the third floor of our house, something that was quite an accomplishment, given that we live in a two-story building and that Konohagakure is apparently in a parallel universe. Incidents like that had become an almost routine fact of life amongst our little band of screwed-up nutcases, even disregarding the more common 'disturbances' such as kidnapping attempts, assassination attempts, or serial rapists. On the other hand, the kids weren't the only ones with screwed-up lives -- the kids had started jokingly calling my so-called love-life the "demon-of-the-month club".
But today, nothing was going to go totally insane. Today was a day for normalcy. Okay, so maybe not Dursley normalcy, but what passed for normalcy in our rather messed-up lives. Today, no pedophiles would teleport in while I wasn't watching and try to rape Rei. Today, no alien brain-snakes would try to take me as a host. Today, no demons would show an allergic reaction to Harry's breakfast cereal. Today was going to be a perfectly normal day in our rather messed-up lives, a beacon of calm amidst our daily chaos. And if I actually believed that, I could probably convince myself that I could turn a profit buying a quitclaim deed to the Brooklyn Bridge. Still, one could hope.
While we rode, Robert complained to Harry. He didn't like cars very much, a side effect of being able to change his feet into rocket-powered roller skates capable of outpacing just about any "normal" land vehicle. Unfortunately, this was around as normal as it got for us; as much as I loved my adoptive children, I wished the chaos would calm down a little.
It was a bright, cheerful Saturday, and the zoo was packed with families. Given my luck, I wasn't entirely certain that all of them were human, but as long as none of them were trying to suck out my soul, drink my blood, or otherwise harm me or mine, I really didn't care. I bought all of us except for Rei chocolate ice creams at the entrance; she prefered lemon sorbet.
I had the most normal morning I'd had in a long time. I was careful to keep an eye out for the Dursleys, remembering what Skuld had told me about this trip. By lunchtime, Robert was starting to get tired of the animals and Harry was looking forward to the reptile house. We ate in the zoo lunchroom, and when one of our neighbors, a fat, blonde-haired kid, threw a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream, we all had a bit of a chuckle.
I should have known that it was too normal to last.
After lunch, we visited the reptile house. Rei didn't like it much, given her tendency to avoid dark places, but it wasn't dark enough for me to have trouble seeing her, and there weren't any overly-dark corners for a would-be rapist to drag her into. A large variety of lizards and snakes were on display, and Harry seemed particularly interested in a rather sociable boa constrictor with whom he was carrying on a conversation. Robert, meanwhile, was taking a look at the chameleon exhibit, and Rei was latched firmly to my side.
"Don't worry, Rei," I reassured her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I won't let anyone try anything. Why don't you take a look around?"
Rei just shivered and tightened her grip. It was at that moment that a rather ugly middle-aged woman approached me.
"Rather shy, isn't she?" she asked, turning a sympathetic eye towards Rei.
I sighed and tightened my grip on Rei's shoulder. "I really wish it was that simple," I answered. "Ordinary shyness I can deal with, but rape trauma is on a completely different level."
The woman's eyes widened. "You mean..." she paused for a moment as the realization set in. "The poor dear..."
I shook my head. "They weren't successful, but even the attempt is traumatic enough for a young girl, don't you think?"
"Oh, my, yes," the woman agreed. "From the way she's acting, I take it it was fairly recent?"
I frowned. "Well, the latest incident was... around a week ago, actually, so yes."
The woman's eyes widened further. "The latest incident?" she asked, startled.
At that point, Robert, noticing Rei's behavior, abandoned the chameleons and came back to us. "Come on, Rei," he said, pulling Rei off of me, "no one's hiding in the shadows... and if they are, Dad'll just chop their bits off."
Seeing Rei starting to take my earlier advice, I focused my attention back on the woman who I had been speaking to.
"What was that about?" she asked.
"Rei," I said, letting some of my exhaustion show, "seems to attract perverts like a magnet."
Just then, a bit of motion drew my eye as a spectacularly overweight blonde kid knocked Harry to the side to get a better look at the snake Harry had been chatting with. I moved to intervene, but was interrupted by the six of us -- me, my kids, the woman I had been chatting with, and the fat kid who turned out to be her son -- being kidnapped by alien xenoproctologists. Some days, it just doesn't pay to get up in the morning.
-------------------
The damned xenoproctologists were more trouble than they were worth. After Rei panicked and tore a hole through their ship with her AT field, the idiots were stranded on Earth and had taken to referring to her as "she-who-must-not-be-probed" in hushed tones when they thought I couldn't hear. Of course, stranded as they were, they had no place to stay while they awated rescue, and it wasn't like a group of four Roswell Greys could just stroll into the local Motel Six and rent a room, so I wound up offering them the cupboard under my stairs to use until their superiors could send a rescue party. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, thanks to the screwed-up physics of my house, and a cubic mile of space was far more than they deserved... even if the area was infected with really cute little eight-legged rabbits that bred like the eternally-pregnant legless furballs that had taken over the pantry.
Edit: Added that last paragraph. It was originally intended to be the start of a third prologue, but it fit in better here.-- This message brought to you by Ely Lilly, makers of SeraFem: Happy Pills for PMS.