//------------------------------// // Part 18 Dan, Pinkie, & Ash Vs. Deadites: Chapter 172 : Dan Army Vs. Deadite Troop // Story: The Wheel and the Butterfly A Dan X Pinkie Pie Saga // by Justice3442 //------------------------------// Part 18 Dan, Pinkie, & Ash Vs. Deadites: Chapter 172 : Dan Army Vs. Deadite Troop And now a special update from Ruby, gorgeous redhead and possibly the most accomplished Necromancer on this plane of existence. Did you know school busses could LAND from a vertical, face down position after falling into an underground pit? I sure the literal Hell on Earth didn't. Did you know that they might still be driveable after landing on a squad of well-armed Deadite warriors? Even after popping a few tires and shooting off dangling snow chains in all directions? Also, hopefully whoever decided that a LOS ANGELES, CALI-FORN-AI-AE school bus might need SNOW CHAINS was hopefully already dead!  This was all a surprise to ME! And maybe I didn't invent the concept of chaos, but I sure improved on it. Anyways, did you know that said MAGIC school busses might also contain individuals who were telekineticabable enough to identify, grab, ARM, and THROW grenades in all directions, fire PLASMA rifles and a classic demon skulled-motif B>F>G from the-now covered in make-shift armor from all the secret underground base sheet metal  MSB War Rig Battle Wag would continue to plow it's way through Deadites, some in the process of being disintegrated, make its way UP a recently summoned skull-heavy bone ziggurat, and finally crash into an OCCUPIED bone-throne. It was certainly news to me! Especially given that plasma based weaponry was NOT something that is local to this planet. And me?! I WROTE THE G-D-NECRONOMICON IN THE BLOOD AND ON THE SKIN OF MY ENEMIES AND THE PEOPLE WHO PISSED ME OFF! IT'S  FACE IS THAT OF A SUMARIAN WAR-CHIEF AND DEMI-GOD WHO DISOBEYED ME AND ITS CONTENTS ARE WHAT NIGHTMARE SCREAM THEMSELVES AWAKE TO! It is a tome so frighteningly powerful that even touching it without the proper invocation can spell DOOM for an entire planet. Hi, my name is Ruby. I've brought nations to ruin, conquered continents, lead armies straight out of Hell itself... and I just got hit by a damn school bus and there's a very ornate and INDESCRIBABLY heavy bone-throne on the, thankfully, incredibly athletic body I'm inhabiting.  That was my HUSBAND driving that bus! I am going to redefine what 'rock your world' means for him when he and my friends kick your ass! Ruby grunted out an irritated sigh as she began to catch her breath. “Elise, while Chris has gone up in my easement of potential consorts of darkness, you should maybe consider that he was willing to hit you with a bus. A bus that was Road Warrior worthy, no less.” Honestly? That is one of the reasons I'm experiencing an arousal never before known to me. ~-000-~ “Oh God!” Chris exclaimed as he disembarked the War Bus he had just haphazardly driven up a bone pyramid structure and into what was clearly a twisted throne for whoever was going to be the ruling evil overlord of deadite earth.  “I just crashed into Elise!” Though, his purple suit had scene less black smudge and blood splattered days and his golden tie, also blood splattered, hung loosely from his neck, his black crocodile trench coat glistened in the blue glow of the errant plasma fires that had recently started up next to the odd burning tripod skull-bowl torch that was still standing after the short and brutal bus brouhaha. Man, did Chris miss the recently head-butted into a torpor Pinkie Pie.   “Chris, buddy?” Dan began as he stepped through the hastily armored and bullet dented exit of the bus. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” The unconscious Pinkie was draped over Dan, her black-vinyl covered thighs firmly under the crook of each of Dan's arm, her likewise vinyl covered arms dangling past Dan's shoulders and down his chest, and her chin resting atop his ruffle black hair. The bottom of his black trench coat dragged across the cracked bone and debris strewn platform as he followed Chris. “Also, I'm pretty sure we just disrupted the literal Hell out of a demon summoning ritual, so that's one thing off the bucket list,” Dan said as a divinely twisted grin grew underneath black sunglasses.  Despite the din of screaming deadites repeating lines such as, “I'm melting!” “I'm partially melted!” and “Why does a Los Angeles school bus even HAVE snow-chains?!” Pinkie slept soundly, bruise on her forehead not withstanding. Chris took a second to pause and shifted to look at Dan. “While I have no doubt that's a dream come true for you, I just hit my WIFE with s bus you and your future daughter turned into a War Rig!” “I know!” Dan said with a touch of indignity. “I was there for the literal bus hitting! Also it's a bucket list banner day.” Dan let out an “Oof” as he nearly fell forward. He quickly leaned back up as the hints of a crimson shimmer surrounded Pinkie.  “Oh my G-O-S-H!” Bullet hole riddled, blood and ash smeared black trench coat wearing Elle jumped out of the bus and hit the ground with a heavy 'thud!' an arsenal of technologically appropriate and futuristic weapons clanking against each other from the straps wrapped around her arms, shoulders, and across her back. Huffing and puffing, she jogged up to her past-dad's position. She leaned her head down and examined Pinkie Pie with her steel grey eye, her eye-patch only slightly worse for wear with a smudge of reddish-ash running diagonally upwards from left-to right and running up her forehead into her long raven black hair. “Is mom okay!? Are YOU okay!? Is ELISE okay!?” Elle took a second to catch her breath as gunfire and plasma bolts continued to pour from windows in the back of the bus, picking off Deadite after Deadite as they scrambled in all directions, screaming for their un-lives. Dan's eyelids dropped ever so slightly and he turned to look at his alternative future daughter, “She's fine. I'm fine. Elise is—” “I see Elise trying to push that huge bone throne off of herself!” Chris exclaimed excitedly. “Also, it sounds like she's cursing in some long-dead language which...” He frowned slightly. “Might be the real Elise.” Chris's brow tightened. “She does speak quite a few languages and goes deep when she's upset.” Dan sighed, “—fine-ISH apparently.” He smiled with a sense of dark jovial humor. “We're all fine here. How are you?” Dan was less than prepared for the massive, soul lifting smile that obliterated any dark clouds from Elle's expression. “Do you Han Solo at me, sir?” Dan couldn't help but let out a body shaking laugh and, unconscious though she may be, Pinkie's lips rose on both sides ever so slightly. “I do Han Solo!” Dan replied. Still beaming from ear to eye-patch strap, Elle lowered her eyelid slightly. “Do you Han Solo at ME, Sir?” Dan shot his emerald eyes upwards and not-quite-whispered, “Is the law on my side if I answer, 'ay'?” He frowned. “Oh wait, you're unconscious... Hey, Chris!” Dan shouted. “If I Han Soloed and was asked if I did it at someone specific, is the law on my side if I say 'ay'?” “As much as I want to join in this Shakesperian Star Wars act I'm pretty sure we still have a fight on our hands!” Chris answered. “So, maybe we can concentrate on saving Elise here and also, the world.” “Right, right...” Dan replied contemplatively. “That thing.” He gently sat Pinkie down next to the base of a skull and bone column, the top half off the once massive grim-dark architecture lying mostly intact, if slightly smashed, across the platform. Dan held up both his hands expectedly. “Plasma rifle akimbo me, sweet future-child of mine.” “Done and DONE!” Elle replied as she placed one rectangular plasma rifle into Dan's right hand and another into his left.  Green streams of continual plasma spewed forth from Dan's weapons as freely as the maniacal laughter from his lips. Deadites who had begun to return fire soon found themselves ON fire, or at the very least, partially disintegrated and gooified as Dan's sprays of plasmatic re-death found target after target. With the sound behind him of a 'Thoomp!' he watched a grenade sail overhead and behind a pile of rubble and broken desks where a collection of deadite soldiers and armed office workers had been firing behind. More high-pitched screams of skeletal despair and an explosion joined the twisted symphony of gunfire, super heated blasts, and laughter as Dan heard the heart melting laughter of Elle gleefully launching grenade after grenade with a 'Thoomp!'  'Thoomp!'  'Thoomp!'  into the dwindling armies below. Ruby sneered as she pushed herself up as well as the giant throne she was trapped under. Her, or rather Elise’s tactical vest, combat boots, and black pants were only a bit scuffed up, but there were more than just a couple broken vials of mysterious and irrecondecent fluids and now amount of bone-bleach was going to get those stains out of the ziggurat  Ancient curses poured from her lips, more out of frustration than actual direction.  “GET UP THERE AND SPREAD SOME ENTRAILS!” she ordered in a booming tone that shook the underground geofront enough to knock some blood-red crystal loose from the sides.  “Alright men and not-men!” A well-armored deadite called out from lips half under a mustache and half melted off from a plasma bolt that seared off half his face and left streams of molten metal down his glowing red eye-socket. “Form up and start MARCHING up that bone pyramid!” “Ziggurat, sir!” another deadite corrected.   The commanding Deadite responded by producing a hand-cannon sized silver pistol and with a roaring 'BANG!' put a bullet directly through the nose and out the back of the head of the one who had corrected him. “No! Not Mitch!” Another Deadite called out. “He was the funniest among us! It was also his birthday! And he was just - three -  days away from re-retirement!”  'BANG!'  The Deadites finally fell silent as another one of their number was dispatched by this surprising no-nonsense Warmaster of the Undead managed to bring an almost unheard of order to the chaos and began a steady march of skeletal and recently corpsified individuals up step by step. The Commander himself  slid  into the ranks, seamlessly blending in with much of the other armored troop as he continued  to give out orders.  Reinforced  riot shields  being picked up and  passed  to able-and-mostly-intact bodied Deadites even as plasma , bullets, and explosions  ripped through the ranks.  The grizzly commander marched  his  undead forces  forward, even over the  smoldering and still screaming  bodies  of  their allies  to the din of, “Tough luck, buddy. I need  this more than  you!” and “Free assault  rifle!”  as  bigger and better weapons  were picked up from amongst the bones.  Their foes were starting  to seek cover once more, the living  once again  feared the dead!  Even their collection of not of this earth weapons couldn't hold back the rising tide of the damned! Victory was well in skeletal hand! The flesh bags would join his ranks! The line of soldiers in front of him wear now completely headless! The melted side of his face was melting further! And also the not melted side! Now was as good a time for a dirt nap as any other! “The commander is missing part of his face!” A Deadite commented. “That's, like, his thing!” Another one hissed out. “Yeah, but it's the half we needed!” “No! Not Mustache half! Who here has some impressive facial hair! We need a leader!” Ruby cursed to several  dark and hidden entities  as  she  watched the Deadites lines descend into disorganized chaos once more.  The type of chaos that DIDN'T benefit her. The type of chaos where the Deadites screamed in terror as a superior force mowed them- or in this case- burned them down. It wasn't supposed to go like this. In fact, it NEVER went down like this!  In fact this sort of thing doesn't usually happen unless— “Hey, toots!”  Ashley Joanna Williams! Of F@#%ING COURSE HE 'S HERE! Ash blew the red-hot aperture of his plasma rifle and skipped the last step of the bus, his black boots landing with a satisfying 'Thump!'  His khakis were a bit of a mess. His baby-blue shirt was now more of a smudged brown and gray, but damn... His hair was still looking good and sat atop a handsome face with a chin solid enough to stop a bull moose charge. He took a moment to thank wildly irresponsible with cash PAST-him from making him great at Three-card Monty. He even won slightly more than one in four games at this point. Ash shouted as he marched to the head of the group. “We drove here to  punch Deadite chops, kick demon ass, and chew assorted gums and maybe write crass things on the bathroom stall walls.”  Keeping stride with Ash, a gum chewing,bubble blowing, gun totin’ Applejack stepped up to the fallen pillar. “An' we ran outta room on the walls ta write obscenities on.” Her cowboy boots were stained with the color of dried blood and a little bit of reddish-mud. Her jeans  looked a bit worse for wear with all the bits of gore that had hit and some fresh tears she had earned. Gun holsters with curved brown-handles sticking out of them joined her belt-buckle on her waist, flanking her hips. Applejack's once tied in a knot orange and yellow flannel was now ripped at about the halfway point, still leaving her titanium abs exposed.  In her right hand, she held an  matte-black assault rifle with grenade launcher attachment slid under the barrel. Small wafts of smoke indicated that both barrels had been fired recently. Dan snerked at the couple. “You know, that wasn't a half-bad intentional misquote.”  “Totes!” Elle agreed. “Also, nice shot with the plasma rifle, Ash-bo-bash!” Applejack spit out her gum which rocketed past her red-delicious lips  and landed directly into the slack-jaw of a partially fried deadite. “Ghah! Why did it have to be big red?!” it cried out, unaware that it's day was about to be much worse. “He did practice missin' with that future gun quite a bit before that last bit of eagle eye shottin'.” “Thanks for the spit-roasted compliment, sugar baby,” Ash replied, his smirk only slightly skewed from the intentional ego deflation.  “Muh pleasure,” Applejack replied with a wink as she placed her left palm on the fallen pillar and gave it a good shove.  Still chanting in long forgotten tongues, the face Ruby was wearing contorted in  irritated disbelief as the remains of the column rolled down the ziggurat. Of  first-borne sacrificing course it was heading  for what passed for an organized troop of  her Deadite horde. With a cry to the damnable heavens of  “Chaos rain!” truck sized chunks of blood-red crystals  fell, one at least hitting the rolling pillar, splitting it down the middle and saving the center mass of her forces. “Hahahahahaha! Safe!” an armored Deadite cried. “Everything is  good and will remain that way forever!” another added. Ruby considered raising a palm to her face, but somehow a, quite alive, black cat with wide, chartreuse eyes landed on her head with a disgruntled “Meow!” before scampering off into the rubble.  Random, yes. Bad omen, Oh by Satan’s twisted throne, YES! The cat was supposed to be dead. ALSO, land on the target. Ruby chanted once more. Something that should move the bullseye close to where she wanted, if nothing else. As her family and friends shielded their heads from the smaller crystal shards, Elle caught sight of a particularly jagged and huge mass of crimson as it rushed for the top of the zigar-rot... zippy-run... Ziggy Stardust... Bone-pyramid-thing she and her friends were on top of.  With a plea to the heavens of “OH-SANTA-PLEASE-WORK!” Elle raised her a hand crackling with scarlet energy. A swirling electric red portal opened above her palm, inches from needle sharp points.  And, because someone, oh I-don't-know, probably nick-named something stupid, like ASH had just the most unpredictable luck, a second, nearly identical portal opened above her self-congratulatory ensemble of bumbling, undead C*@% MUNCHING GARBAGE ARMY, CRUSHING THE SQUEALING REMAINS with a resounding 'CRUSHTHRUMBLE!' and a few whimpers of “But, why?” “What did we do to deserve such a fate?” and “FREE GUM!” Ruby groaned as she reached down to her host's tactical belt. She pulled out a dagger of black star-iron, wavy and with a point that had fell fey kings, She raised the point over her palm.  It was going to be one of those days.