Los Angeles, California, 1,999 years ago; Marks Point of View
Jesus, it was hot here! The temperature reached a staggering 95 degrees and rising as the sun hung in the summer sky. If this kept up I’d fry on the sidewalk waiting for the pedestrian sign to light up. I had just left the hotel with my two friends John and Kyle, dressed as Ichigo and Gamzee Makara, respectively. We had come to LA after we had heard a Con was taking place.
By the looks of things we weren't the only ones going either. There were some pretty cool cosplays of Deadpool, Star Wars, The Marvel Franchises, seemed as if the whole of geek culture had shown up. Then there were the… not so good cosplays… things cannot be unseen. I even spotted a crowd of people wearing some other merch, MLP I think it was called. I had heard about it on some boards I was browsing and it seemed to come under a lot of mixed opinions, but over all these “Bronies” seemed like agreeable folks… as long as you stayed away from the neck beards and fanatics.
I myself am a native of the great state of Washington, D.C! Capital of ‘Murica! So when I heard that the con was set up in L.A, I packed my cosplay and hopped on the nearest plane. Previously, I had been planning to wait for the Con to come a bit closer to home, but I figured I might miss the next chance. So screw it, might as well go now.
I was cosplaying as a fan favorite of the Bleach community, Ulquiorra Cifer! The Cuatro Espada! The only thing that I hadn’t on my person was Murciélago, of which I wanted to find an accurate replica, not some plastic crap. I managed to find some emerald green contacts that were able to turn my eyes into little reptile slits, and had painted my skin ashen grey, having a friend of mine help sow my robes. My only worry however was that if these heat kept up my sweat would wash away all my hard work.
The light changed, giving the crowd the go ahead to cross the street. I bumped into something… squishy. Oh god the smell. It smelled like something had died. I caught a glimpse of the gargantuan mass of flesh next to me. This guy was huge! He reeked of cheetos, sweat, after shave, and wasted ambitions, all topped off with a neck beard and a stereotypical trilby hat.
He had some sort of shirt on with a prismatic design, the logo saying “20% cooler”. Carrying in his arms a pink plushie of sorts. Oh god make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!! The monster reared his ugly, pimpled face and looked at me. Don't make eye contact, ignore him and he'll go away.
“Hey! You've got green eyes! Just like Applejack!” Who the hell is Applejack?
“Yeah that’s great…” I muttered as I kept walking. He kept going on and on about “winter wrap up” and some guy named "Larson". I had no idea who this guy was, but one thing was going through my head, I need to get as far away as possible and fast. The convention-center was only a few yards away! If I could get through the door before him, there’s no way he could fit through it!
“You've got a cool looking helmet! It’s shining like Princess Celestia!” What the hell is this guy talking about?! Whatever, I was almost there, almost to the door, so close, almost there!
I made it! The only sad thing is that he went through a set of double doors. Still following me he was hot on my trail.
“Hey! Wait up!” he said, hell no I wasn't going to ‘wait up’! I didn't bother looking back, I simply kept walking, now turned into a terrified jog. Taking my phone from my pocket as I had lost John and Kyle, I dialed their numbers, the phone ringing… and ringing… and ringing.
‘Hello?’ responded John’s familiar voice.
“John! Thank god! It’s me, Mark, I got lost running from this fat neck beard guy.”
‘This is real life, Mark. We need not fear the neck beards here.’
“You wish, seriously, he even had that trilby hat!”
‘That’s what it is? I always thought it was a fedora.’
“Common mistake, but that’s beside the point, where are you guys?”
‘We’re near the lobby.’
“Awesome! Stay there, I'll meet you guys there.”
‘Alright, but Kyle went ahead of me to see if he can commision some artists or some such, so we'll have to go find him inside.’
“Works, just stay there and we'll go look for him once I find you.” I hung up and made my way to the lobby of the convention center which I had missed in my panicked daze running from my worst fears made flesh. I made my way down the hall to the lobby, finding my arch nemesis Ichigo/John there. We joined back up, going into the main room to see if we could find ourselves a Troll.
After a while we had finally found Kyle, who was seated with a group of Homestucks, each painted grey with their own little defining features, horns and symbols, which I recognized as zodiac symbols, each a different color.
We had been browsing the stands when finally, after looking for ages, stand after stand, I had found it.
Murciélago.
A perfect replica. The scabbard, the hilt, the guard, unbelievable attention to detail. It was immeasurable in its beauty. I had to have it. I HAD to. I walked up to the stand, staring at the sword, paying no attention to the others next to it or behind the vendor. Everything sort of fell away, everything else crumbling from existence, the sword become my world...
“You okay there, bud? You're staring.” the vendor said, snapping me out of my trance. I looked at him, then back to the sword. I looked around, noticing that I had lost John and Kyle in the crowd. Again. Crap. I couldn’t just leave this wonderful sword… I mean honestly, what’s the worst that could happen?
“Yeah, sorry, how much for the sword?”
“$500.” he said. Five hundred?! I had brought a thousand! There goes half I suppose.
“Deal!” I exclaimed, pulling out my wallet from my pocket in my robes. I brought 5 hundreds out from my wallet, handing it to the vendor. I took the sword from the shelf. This felt… so right. It felt like I was born with this sword in my hand. Something was telling me to unsheath this. To let it out from it confines and swing it. Swing and cut. Cut and slash. Slash and ki-- holy shit what am I thinking? Was I seriously just thinking of killing everyone in this Con?
This sword… was weird. But it was my sword. Mine. Mine and mine alone.
“Hey! Sweet sword!” Ohgodno.jpg. It was him. That bastard found me. How I was not concerned. What I was concerned about however was figuring out how to get as far away as possible.
“It looks awesome! Could I see it?” He said through heavy breathes, the scent of cheetos wafting from his disgusting form.
“No, no you can’t. I bought it with my money. You want one, get it from the stall.”
“Come on! Just one look!” He kept getting closer while I kept pulling the sword farther away from him.
“No, I said, go away!” This asshole was starting to piss me off. No is no, it’s MY sword! MINE! One last chance, he reaches for it again, he’s dead. All the while, that feeling of blood lust I had felt before had returned. I felt like I wanted to find everyone like this guy and bring their lives to god-awful ends for trying to touch my sword. MY Murciélago. In a sense, I didn't necessarily feel violent… simply… hollow. My chest felt hollow, my entire being felt empty. Like a corpse.
“Come on! One. Look!” He had done it. He touched it. He reached out with his stubby arms and touched it with his disgusting fingers. Trash. He had to pay.
I pulled away with surprising strength, leaping back as if floating away from him. I landed on my feet smoothly, skidding still. I glared at the tub of wasted life. This THING had touched my sword with his cheeto dusted fingers. I'd kill him. I'd make him suffer. I’d find his family, his pets, bring back his dead relatives and MAKE THEM ALL SUFFER!!
I drew Murciélago. The blade glowed white as I drew it from its sheath, an unfamiliar feeling filling me, as if I had been missing something, an emptiness. It felt… Natural.
I lunged at him, sword ready to slash the fat from his frame.
Everything went dark.
