I don't spy on people's relationships! I'm glad people are still poking their heads in though. Writing these has been my greatest accomplishment at my current job. That bad? That bad.
1. Keine
2. Mokou
3. Reimu
4. Yuuka
5. Youmu
6. Patchouli
7. Marisa
8. Yuugi
9. Miko
10. Nitori
They make such a great pair.
Future: "Good morrow to you, sirs, and welcome to the deepest, darkest depths of the Amazon! 'Tis quite a perilous journey that you and your companions have endured just to reach a treacherous locale! Rest well, for when dawn comes, we shall map and probe the corners of the earth hidden from mankind since the beginning of time! Tread lightly, for we may encounter the voracious piranha, the poisonous trouser snake, and the terrifying electrified bad-smelling exploding sabertooth lesbian bulimic baboon. We lost Dr. Wellington to one last week. Very sticky. Anyway, pull up a wet, fungus-covered log and enjoy our makeshift fire. We've got plenty of two-year-old hardtack, swill, and rotten meat to enjoy. After we fend off a panther, we'll settle in for the night. You may borrow Mr. Clark's sleeping bag. He won't be needing it since he died of dysentery last night. You did wash out Clark's sleeping bag out, did you not, Watson? I sure hope so. Very well, then. Please take your three soggy rations as well as the following supplies: A rusty, warped machete, a broken pocket knife for defense, rope that may or may not be from the time of the second Punic war, and a fresh pair of boots, by which I mean there's a dog-sized spider with a fresh attitude in one of them. Also, Mr. Sherwood is in control of the repeating rifle since he seems to be the only one amongst us who can inspect and test it
without looking down the barrel. Very well, then. Let us retire for the evening. Be sure to put up the mosquito nets. The ones we had last night were as big as cats and you'll need your blood to wade through 5 miles of leech-infested waters tomorrow. And the next person to scream as loud as Coddington did when he was dragged into the night
will not receive the same search party to find his remains! Sleep well, gentlemen!"
Death: You attempt to kiss your beloved and she doesn't reciprocate. Your beloved happens to be an 20 foot long crocodile. Luckily, she doesn't happen to worry about grocery shopping for some time later. Death claims you at
58.
Last Words: "Now in truth, gentlemen, there are no beasts in the jungle that cannot be tamed. Allow me to demonstrate with Muffy here."
Number: 50 kilograms of gear. How do these people manage?
Color: Jungle green
1. Shikieiki Yamaxanadu
2. Yuuka Kazami
3. Utsuho Reiuji
4. Fujiwara no Mokou
5. Shinki
6. Yukari Yakumo
7. Nue Houjuu
8. Toyosatomimi no Miko
9. Kanako Yasaka
10. Eirin Yagokoro
Future: The year is 200X. You're General Kilgore, the hero of the Canadian-American war. After serving your beloved country for more than two decades and receiving the Medal of Honor 17 times and the Jumbo Deluxe Medal of Honor thrice, your government betrays you because you know. Too. Much. You escape your assassination attempt involving an assassin with a nuclear bomb, though you are horribly scarred by the searing radiation. Vowing revenge, you set up a base inside a volcano that spews neon red radioactive goo and you attract a horde of goons that all wear cheesy biker helmets so you can't see their faces. You even kidnap the U.S.'s top scientist, Dr. Cindy Rella, so you can force her to engineer a missile that will release a radioactive cloud over the country that wronged you, subjecting hundreds of millions to the same fate you have endured. But the U.S. has the one man who can take you out on their side...
Rex Scorpion. He's part man, part cyber-soldier, part ninja, part time help at the Red Cross, and he's out to part you a new one. He's your former protege and he's got the tools for the job: A cigar and two eight-barreled shotguns.
The stage is set for your greatest battle. Rex parachutes into your lair from the U.S.'s base on the moon. He swoops in, blowing away your mooks with his shotguns while they couldn't hope to hit him once with an arsenal of laser machine guns. They give the A-Team, Death Star stormtroopers, and blind people with no hands a bad name so far as marksmanship goes. Your army is torn to shreds and perforated more times than all the pages in a 24 subject notebook combined. Before long, he's rescued the lovely Dr. Rella (and the entire can of Aqua Net hairspray she put into her Princess Di-esque feathered hair) and sends the lone, unarmed girl with no military training out into the facility to secure an escape route.
Your grand strategy of throwing mobs of useless thugs against a walking weapons cache while watching monitors in your throne room has failed! Rex barges in, killing your right hand man by slicing him open with a cyber samurai sword. "Mind if I cut in?" he growls, lit cigar in his lips. Instead of opening the trap door to your cyber shark pit which is placed immediately below him right away, you have a 5 minute monologue about your grand plans for domination, giving Rex plenty of time to reload. "You'll never win, general. 'Cuz I've got a lady back home to protect. Lady Liberty. And she's got better things to do than watch you wave your little missile at her." Rex pulls out of his pocket a box with a 5 foot long antenna and a single button on it and pushes it. He rigged the radioactive missile with explosives off-camera! The blast knocks you off your feet. This gives Rex enough time to punch a 4 letter passcode into your personal Apple III computer, irreversibly setting off your base's self-destruct sequence. With your plans for revenge foiled, you battle Rex in a climactic kung-fu battle for the ages.
Death: Rex Dragon Kicks your ass off a catwalk that would fail every last OSHA regulation in the book and you plummet into the heart of the radioactive volcano. "It's been a blast, general" Rex quips with a smirk. You see him flee as the base explodes around you just as you meet your demise at
51. Rex barrels out of the facility with Dr. Rella in one arm and both 8 barreled shotguns in the other while riding his combination F-15 jet/Harley Davidson motorcycle out of there. They have a romantic moment on a cliff overlooking the remnants of your base despite having met each other 15 minutes ago.
Roll credits.
Last Words: As you fall to your doom, the camera pans out and spins to a sickening degree. With your last breaths, you shout at Rex. "Curse you! Curse your family! Curse your children!. And your children's children! Vile, vile Scorpioooooo-" *BOOM*
Number: T-1000
Color: Any neon color capable of performing impromptu laser eye surgery on anyone who glances at it.
Ooh, fun times! Let's see...
1 Utsuho Reiuji (Okuu)
2 Koishi Komeiji
3 Yuyuko Saigyouji
4 Sariel
5 Byakuren Hijiri
6 Shinmyoumaru Sukuna
7 Hata no Kokoro
8 Satori Komeiji
9 Tenshi Hinanawi
10 Ran Yakumo
(I did an entire touhousort for this. Why do I like all final bosses and two extras and Satori. Why. I even tried to base this more on personality I liked.)
Tohosort's always good to see how much things have changed regarding your fandom every so often. Read a dozen doujins or some older canon material, and watch how many places are shook up.
Future: Your sweet, innocent obliviousness of the armageddon-level catastrophes you have caused have extended back through your family for generations. Great-granddad left the stove on in the Hindenburg, Grandma playing jump rope with friends near the
Tacoma Narrows Bridge was the last nail in its coffin, and uncle Artyom played tug o' war using a power line with his pet dog out in Chernobyl. The same trait of being an innocent walking disaster area starts young. Little did you know, while being driven home from the hospital after your birth, you tugged on your father's hair when he was driving into your garage, causing him to careen into a support beam. Making your first home unsafe for living was just the start, and you soon cause a torrent of disasters, resulting in your parents giving you up for adoption. Three adoption homes (and two very understanding adoptive parents) later, you were released to the real world, your destructive skills remaining dormant. Soon they will reawaken. In spades. It starts with a gas leak that levels your first workplace in the middle of the night and gets progressively worse from there. Someone finally rats on you (speaking of which, you inadvertently start a giant rat infestation), and you become a social outcast. Eventually, your landlord awards you with the deed to an entire block of apartments and all the other tenants flee. Days later, you pick at a chipped section of a cinderblock and the entire building implodes. It's a good thing you're such a chipper, positive person, or the years of isolation would really wear on you. You try to build a log cabin in the forest, but it burns down. You then try to build a house out of i-beams and sheet metal, but it burns down. Finally, you build a house from coral in the ocean, but an oil tanker crashes on top of it, causing it to burn down. Seeking a purpose to all of this misfortune, you offer your... ability to be used for the good of the public. You are later used to clear minefields, cause landslides and avalanches, and are even sent into space to draw away an asteroid that would've otherwise hit earth. It hits your space shuttle, though.
Death: You manage to avoid being a part of all the catastrophes you cause by sheer luck. Even Death doesn't want anything to do with you, and when you're finally satisfied with your life, you deliberately drive a knife into your temple at
118. The blow doesn't prove to be enough, and you only have a vision of Death at a Dairy Queen. You have a conversation with him, and he whines about how bad his love life has been, which makes sense considering what a whiny stiff he is. You grill him on that until it's the scythe for you. Death breaks a hip in the process.
Last Words: You're 118! You're last words were some 6 years earlier when you hit on the sprightly young nonagenarian who lived down the hall in the nursing home. "Mrs. Grundy, you wanna come over my place and swap dentures?" Man, you have your moments.
Number: 10000 feet. It will be a minimum distance restraining order put on you by the
entire human race.
Color: Rosy pink innocence.
