[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/dGFSkqO.png[/img][/center][hr] Nicole slumped against a small piece of rubble on the ground, graciously accepting Priya's fist bump but otherwise sitting apart from her teammates. She watched each of them proudly accept the adulation of the cadets and other Ars Magi, basking in their accomplishments - Penny, equal parts fearless and discombobulated after her full frontal assault, and Dana, ever the markswoman and optimist. Even Cordy was getting in on a little of the love, and it was for her that Nicole felt the fiercest pride. She could tell her roommate was still focusing on filling the shoes of a girl she'd never known, and Nicole empathized with that. She knew she could do a better job of treating Cordelia as her own person and not a stand-in, and it was something she was working on. But by the same token, she felt a little proud of herself; this was their first op since Astrelle had vanished from the world, and Cordelia was a natural fit for-- [color=green]"--does the name 'Team Radiant Storm' sound? A little pretentious, but I think it fits us nicely..."[/color] Nicole winked. [i][color=ec008c]A natural fit for a Radiant Storm.[/color][/i] [color=ec008c]"I think it whips ass. Just like you, babes. We'll squeeze it down into something that can fit on a jacket."[/color] Tomorrow, maybe. Or...whenever. [hr] [center][sub][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m2pc9Cpt4sg]neon city racing queen[/url][/sub][/center] She had finally gotten the hang of this dumb faucet. Warm water cascaded down her shoulders and the small of her back, its smooth passage to the drain occasionally broken by small cuts or the rough texture of wind-chaffed skin. In the morning Nicole would pick up her moisturizing routine again, but right now her body was sore, tired, and ached from old wounds - or, as the ancients called it, nostalgia. A tablet computer, propped up carefully to the right of the bathroom sink at an angle best for audio fidelity, served as her knife, carving the overwrought lines of sci-fi post-cyberpunk pre-apocalyptic tragically-romantic [i]fuckin' [b]goodness[/b][/i] into her heart and pulling the familiar words from her lips. She mouthed along lovingly. [right][i]"Promethion was designed to be a bargain, and I've always held up my end."[/i] [i]"I don't need [b]you[/b] to tell me how Promethion was designed, [b]Commander Shourichi.[/b]"[/i] [i]"Man-machine interface, isn't that what you insist on calling it? A bargain between man and machine. And you hate it. You designed the greatest weapon in humanity's history, pulled the whole thing out of that big brain of yours, but you just [b]hate[/b] that it needs me to run. You hate [b]me[/b]. But most of all you hate yourself, Ryouma. Because you and I are meat. No design involved. The way we're made is dumb and messy and physical. And one person never gets all the credit."[/i][/right] The young Nicole Cognoscenti had watched this a hundred times, and then a hundred more, until she wore the screenplay's scars inside her heart. The retro-future stylings of Studio Quada's [i]Giga Assault Hell Smasher Promethion[/i] had made it a cultural smash around the time Nicole was born, but it was [i]Ecumenopolis[/i], released when she was only three or four, that had sealed the franchise's spot in the great canon of filmmaking. The two hour movie concluded the tragic saga of hot-blooded, hedonistic, humanist Commander Corinne Shourichi, her brilliant but insular counterpart Dr. Ryoma Kougami, and the other defenders of the planet-spanning city of Vaucanson from the grotesque aliens who sought to wipe them out. Nicole had been [i]way[/i] too young to see everything that conclusion entailed when her father smuggled her into the theater, but many of the images - beautiful, tragic, and horrific alike - had imprinted on the blank canvas of Toddlerscenti's brain, and she had sought the movie out when she was a [i]bit[/i] more mature to refresh herself on its entirety. Since then, the movie - especially its first act, the final moments before the apocalypse came calling for the doomed cast, where twenty-six episodes worth of pieces began to finally fit together - had become a comfort food for Nicole, as fulfilling as fresh bedsheets or a good slice of pizza. Nicole had promised Penny and Dana that she would keep going with her Altea binge watch, and even as she had gotten their finnicky shower to Goldilocks temperature she'd meant it. But tonight, as she washed the rain, rubble, and blood from her person, what she craved was something familiar. [right][i]"You're right. I built the greatest weapon in human history, and [b]you[/b]...you drink all the time, you play arcade games and pachinko so much you basically fight for free, you spend every night with someone new because you think you'll never see tomorrow. Maybe you don't even want to."[/i] [i]"Maybe."[/i] [i]"But tomorrow always comes, and Promethion always rises. Without you, and your attitude, and your yelling, the greatest weapon in human history would be scrap. Corinne, I don't hate you. I'm in [b]awe[/b] of you."[/i][/right] [color=ec008c]"You're the most [i]human[/i] being I've ever met," [/color]Nicole Cognoscenti whispered. [right][i]"You're the most [b]human[/b] being I've ever met."[/i][/right] Despite the heat of the shower, there were goosebumps along her arms. Nicole hugged her chest, rubbing her hands up and down her shoulders to her elbows and shimmying her shoulder blades. She had tried showing a few of her friends this movie over the years, and even the boy she'd had a thing for, but all he wanted to know is why they just didn't mass-produce Promethion's chest laser at any point. The whole movie kinda needed context to work. [right][i]"You always dreamed humanity would overcome. I always dreamed of the stars. If we survive this--"[/i] [i]"--when."[/i] [i]"[b]If[/b] we survive this, you'll be the one to take us there."[/i] [/right] [color=ec008c]"I burn hotter than any star, Ryoma."[/color] [right][i]"I burn hotter than any star, Ryoma. Some of them are dead already, and even more are winding down. Even if we left tonight, the party would be over anywhere we go. The stars have had you distracted since the day we met, Ryoma. There are no stars. There's only you, and me, and what happens here tonight."[/i] [i]"...And tomorrow?"[/i][/right] [color=ec008c]"What about it, doc?"[/color] [right][i]"What about it, doc? I can burn [i]forever[/i] if I've gotta."[/i][/right] [color=ec008c]"Holy [i][b]crap[/b][/i], I'm so [i][b]aloooonnnnnnne![/b][/i]"[/color] That was about all Nicole could take for [i]one[/i] night, [i]thank you very much.[/i] She turned off the water and hurriedly stepped from the stall, extending an arm to pause the movie before any muffled sounds of passion carried through the door. A few drops of water lingered on the screen, sliding down its smooth surface the same way water slid down Nicole. Bad enough that Cordy might have even [i]heard[/i] that pathetic confession over the twin sounds of shower and sci-fi soap opera, but after this love scene always came the inevitable denouement - the deaths of beloved cast members, the final wave of alien attacks, the layers and layers of betrayals and conspiracies that come home to roost. On nights like this, when she wanted a moment to feel fuzzy, she would always stop the movie here. That was one of the things she loved most about movies. When things were at their best, freeze them there. And nothing else had to ruin them. She smiled wistfully and reached for a towel. When she did, she felt her muscles ache. But even that felt good.