#wss366

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter 10: You say Mulligatawny; I say MullagaGEARy.

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

Further talk was forestalled by noise from the mess. Bang. “We want grub!” Bang. “We want grub!” Bang. “We want grub.” Bang.

The three hurried into the mess. Seeing them Mina held up her hands. “Mates, we be going into a fine scuffle. The very heavens be our goal. We are on the #edge of a great revolution. The Golden throne … and as someone said, ‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You Killed my Father. Prepare to die.’”

(“Get on with it; the vittles be getting cold.”) They all hear Fate Gear’s voice, edged with irritation, in their heads.

Bang! Bang! Went the crew.

“You’re not a eunuch,” Mina muttered. Then in a brighter voice, “Half ration of grog today. I want you bright and sharp as an edged cutlass.”

Bang! “Hiss!”

“But double rations for all survivors.”

Bang! “Yer the eunuch, cap!”

“What’s that delightful smell?” Mina asked as the cook and her mates began serving.

“Mulligan stew,” Beni said.

(“This be a pirate ship, not a B Western roundup!”)

“It’s special for steampunk pirates; it's MullagaGEARy,” Beni said with a straight face. [Note 1]

Bang! “Hiss!” Bang! “Boo.”

Note 1: Sorawo groaned, “Mulligatawny.” [Note 1]
Echoed by Toriko, “MullagaGEARy.” [Note 2]

Note 1 of Note 1: Mulligatawny: A spicy soup of Tamil ‘South Indian’ origin commonly including chicken, mutton, and lentils—nothing like Mulligan stew. [Note 1]
Note 2 of Note 1: MulligaGEARy: Ingredients unknown but savory and sure to delight the steampunker in your life. Not to be confused with MulliGEARy, a clear soup. But your steampunker won’t mind. They’ll just be happy that you finally cooked something rather than ordering takeout.

Note 1 of Note 1 of Note 1: Mulligan stew: A thick hobo stew with whatever ingredients are at hand. B Westerns often featured Mulligan stew as a special dish served from the chuck wagon. Not to be confused with Stone Soup, a European variation of the same theme.

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #Metal #JMetal #Satire #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@fanfiction

#wss366 #MastoPrompt

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter 9: Hoist yer spoons

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

Captian Mina paced the Fate Gear’s deck, which always #sloped so Mina was going uphill. Sorawo could imagine the ship silently chuckling to itself. Periodically the captain checked a large brass compass #finished to the umpteenth degree of shine, huge altimeter (shiny), and massive steam-powered sextant (blazing brilliantly).

Finally finished pacing, satisfied they were on course, she turned to her navigator. “Tell the lasses that grubs up.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Yuri said while her fingers flew over the keyboard.

(“Hoist yer spoons, lassie. Benimori got vittles for you in the mess,”) Fate Gear announced. A shrill train whistle screamed, signaling the same. “Get yer vittles on!”

Nana took over command as the captain walked toward the mess.

Nana’s first act was to turn on the Otherside pair lounging at the railing, mops motionless. “And you two bilge rats, wash yer hands and help Benimori serve. Look smart or you’ll feel a kiss of the Bosun’s cat.”

Toriko and Sorawo hurriedly complied and dashed off to help Benimori.

“Take these,” Beni said, handing enormous pots of warm, rich-smelling stew. “If you spill any of it, the ship will have your carcass for dinner.” Beni grinned as she waved a huge spoon.

“That’s not very pirate,” Toriko observed.

Beni lost her smile. “Let’s see you do better.”

“Slop any of this swell, I’ll be keelhauling a pair of deck rats before you can say ‘drunken sailor,’” Toriko supplied.

Beni whistled in appreciation while Sorawo rolled her eyes.

“These two deck rats better be getting this swell to the mates or the cap be slitting our sails,” Sorawo joined in.

The other two’s mouths dropped, and they stared at Sorawo. For a moment, it looked like Toriko would drop the pot she held, and Beni’s spoon wavered in the air.

Toriko was the first to recover. “Now ye be talking like a pirate, matey.”

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@fanfiction

#wss366 #MastoPrompt 7/12

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter 8 Crystal Showers

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

“Make yourselves useful,” Captain Mina barked, looking at the Otherside pair. “Swab the deck.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Toriko roared, throwing up a sharp salute.

Shards of the crystal spheres lay all around and would have lacerated the busy crew’s feet, if not for their heavy, thick-soled boots. Sorawo would’ve called them clunky punk shoes or just clunkers, and Toriko thought of them as “cool and emo.” Either way, they spared the crew damage from the glass on the deck.

(“As well as being cool and emo,”) the Fate Gear commented, à propos of nothing.

Now that the Fate Gear was #flying through the ether, the ship was quieter. The creak of timbers, snap of canvas, and sharp orders of the bosun’s mate masked the anti-grav generators’ gentle hum.

Toriko’s energetic swabbing, combined with Sorawo’s lackadaisical help, sent cascades of crystal sloshing overboard. The resulting sheets of shooting stars lit up the sky and were long remembered as the legendary Tik-Tok Shower, named for the Tik-Tok of Oz constellation it came from.

As they finished, Mina approached. “You be real swabbies now. Can either of you swing a cutlass? Play a guitar? Drum?”

“Guitar? Drum?” Sorawo thought. Then “Why those?” slipped out.

(“Metal-powered steampunk.”) the ship answered. (“You best start believing in steampunk settings, Miss Sorawo—you’re in one.”)

Toriko started speaking, “Back in Canada, I…”

But Sorawo didn’t give her a chance to finish. Who knows what she’d say or what predicament she’d put them in? “No, none of those.”

“Any fantastic abilities: raging, berserk, kung fu, or spidey sense? Anything like that?”

“I can touch unreal things,” Toriko said.

Sorawo winced.

“And I have this.” Toriko pulled out a SIG Sauer P220.

“You’re not a eunuch, are you?” Mina raised an eyebrow, smirking like it was a private joke. Then, without missing a beat: “And you, swabby?” She turned to Sorawo. “Do #tell.”

Yuri glanced up from her console. “Got a tambourine, if that helps.”

Sorawo looked between the three of them, lifted her hands in surrender, and said, “Sorry. We were going to a party.”

“Ship, have Benimori bring this swabby the ‘Thunderbolt’ she used last time.”

(“Aye. It’s not quite rum, but it’ll do.”)

Mina ignored Fate Gear’s latest snark and addressed the adventures. “When we attack, climb the rigging and give my crew fire support. If there are aerial opponents, they’re your priority.”

Sorawo gulped, looked up at the rigging, her face green. “Aye, aye, Captain.” Her voice was a squeak next to Toriko’s prior roar

“You’re not a eunuch, are you?” Toriko smirked, eyes glinting. Her face all but said, “This is a day I’ll always remember—the day we almost got Sorawo to act like a real pirate.”

#TootFic #Serial #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG

#wss366 & #MastoPrompt 06/27

Return to the FATE GEAR

Chapter Seven: Band on the Run

#FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

The Fate Gear surged forward as the crew #hit their riffs and licks, producing thundering music that assailed the sky. The anti-grav generators surged in time to Haruka’s drums. With every drum hit, it soared higher and higher.

Sorawo and Toriko began hearing heavenly music above them. A chiming of the celestial spheres and crystal stars surrounded them, bathing them in soft, melodic music.

“Is that Muzak?” Sorawo asked.

(“What would you expect of the heavenly host?”) they heard Fate Gear say. (“Bland, inoffensive, conservative; don’t make waves; don’t talk on the elevator—buy so the wheels of the economy never stop grinding—music.”)

Yuri’s fingers flew over her keyboard, and an announcement boomed from the bass amplifiers. “Alert. Alert. Incoming…”

The rest of the words were drowned as ‘the rain exploded with a mighty crash.’

The masts creaked, and the ship bucked under the onslaught of wind. Fate Gear’s engines whined at an inhuman pitch.

With Yuri’s fingers flying across the keyboard, new announcements boomed out. Even over the roar of the wind, the bass orders rang out, “Reef the sail. All hands to their stations.” The rigging screamed in the wind, and the sails groaned under the strain, their seams ready to rip. As the sailors took in the reefs, the groaning receded, leaving only the singing of the rigging.

Mina stopped playing and said, ‘But the band played on.’

“They just hit us with their best shot,” Mina said, smiling just before the ship surged forward, finally catching the solar wind as they breached the stratosphere, sending crystal shards flying as the spheres of the heavens cracked and buckled.

“‘And the first one,’” Toriko said, pointed to herself. “‘Said to the second one there,’” and pointed to Sorawo. “‘I hope you’re having fun.’”

Sorawo groaned. How could Toriko be having so much fun at a time like this? This was serious.

Toriko continued singing, accompanied by the Heavenly Host:

‘Band on the run’
‘Band on the run’

“Must you?” Sorawo said. “And anyway, how do you know the words?”

“It was a hit song,” Toriko said.

“And garbage,” Mina said. “#Vending machine bubblegum pop.”

“Please stop,” Sorawo added.

“‘And the jailer man.’” Toriko pointed at Sorawo. “‘And Sailor Sam,’” she pointed at Mina.

“Stop!” Sorawo and Captain Mina said together.

Barely heard, Mina added, “‘Before we fall into the sun.’”

Band on the Run by #PaulMcCartney and the #Wings (All opinions are the characters and may not reflect the views of the author.)

#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG

@yon @Kingu

# #wss366 & #MastoPrompt 06/27
# Return to the FATE GEAR
## Chapter Seven: Band on the Run
### #FanFiction #OthersidePicnic #FateGear

The Fate Gear surged forward as the crew **#hit** their riffs and licks, producing thundering music that assailed the sky. The anti-grav generators surged in time to Haruka’s drums. With every drum **hit**, it soared higher and higher.

Sorawo and Toriko began hearing heavenly music above them. A chiming of the celestial spheres and crystal stars surrounded them, bathing them in soft, melodic music.

“Is that Muzak?” Sorawo asked.

(“What would you expect of the heavenly host?”) they heard Fate Gear say. (“Bland, inoffensive, conservative; don’t make waves; don’t talk on the elevator—buy so the wheels of the economy never stop grinding—music.”)

Yuri’s fingers flew over her keyboard, and an announcement boomed from the bass amplifiers. “Alert. Alert. Incoming…”

The rest of the words were drowned as ‘*the rain exploded with a mighty crash*.’

The masts creaked, and the ship bucked under the onslaught of wind. Fate Gear’s engines whined at an inhuman pitch.

With Yuri’s fingers flying across the keyboard, new announcements boomed out. Even over the roar of the wind, the bass orders rang out, “Reef the sail. All hands to their stations.” The rigging screamed in the wind, and the sails groaned under the strain, their seams ready to rip. As the sailors took in the reefs, the groaning receded, leaving only the singing of the rigging.

Mina stopped playing and said, ‘*But the band played on*.’

“They just **hit** us with their best shot,” Mina said, smiling just before the ship surged forward, finally catching the solar wind as they breached the stratosphere, sending crystal shards flying as the spheres of the heavens cracked and buckled.

“‘*And the first one,*’” Toriko said, pointed to herself. “‘*Said to the second one there,’*” and pointed to Sorawo. “‘*I hope you’re having fun.*’”

Sorawo groaned. How could Toriko be having so much fun at a time like this? This was serious.

Toriko continued singing, accompanied by the Heavenly Host:

*‘Band on the run’
‘Band on the run’*

“Must you?” Sorawo said. “And anyway, how do you know the words?”

“It was a **hit** song,” Toriko said.

“And garbage,” Mina said. “**#Vend**ing machine bubblegum pop.”

“Please stop,” Sorawo added.

“‘*And the jailer man*.’” Toriko pointed at Sorawo. “‘*And Sailor Sam*,’” she pointed at Mina.

“**Stop!**” Sorawo and Captain Mina said together.

Barely heard, Mina added, “‘*Before we fall into the sun.*’”

_Band on the Run_ by #PaulMcCartney and the #Wings (**All opinions are the characters and may not reflect the views of the author.**)

#MicroFiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #NMMP
#UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #Metal #JMetal #Satire #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG

@yon @Kingu

#wss366 06/13 #train
*****Return to the FATE GEAR *****
**** Chapter Six ****
**** Throw Away Your Bicycles ****

“NINO,” Mina—captain of the airship FATE GEAR, a vessel of mixed sails and steam power—yelled, “train these lubbers!”

“To the capstan, me hearties.” A bassist in pirate boots grabbed the Otherside pair by the collar.

Toriko whispered, ‘This is fun. I’ve always wanted to be a pirate!’ That stilled Sorawo’s protest.

“Why on earth would you want that?” Sorawo thought, baffled. “They’re just thugs and robbers on ships.”

“Pull hearty, lubbers,” NINO said. “Don’t just stand there like great jellyfish. Grab a bar and push.” Then, speaking to the other crew at the capstan, “Body-surf them off the ship if they slack.”

“Up anchor,” Mina yelled from the bridge. “We are off to storm the heavens! Pull down the Ultimate Patriarch! Fish, throw away your bicycles!”

Each step forward by the sailors—Toriko and Sorawo included—came with a heavy clank.

“Why do we even need to do this?” Sorawo grumbled to herself. “Bloody ship should do it. It’s got metal-infused steam power. So use it!”

An angry steam whistle sounded overhead, and Sorawo heard, (“Because if I did everything, I wouldn’t need a crew. What’s a sailing vessel without a crew? You may be worthless lubbers, but even you must admit, I have my dignity. I’m no garbage scow. No seagoing tanker of earth-destroying ooze and tar.”)

“I’M FATE GEAR, A PIRATE SHIP, AND PROUD OF IT. Oi! Oi!”

“Okay, we get it. Every headbanger aboard recognizes your worth. Now stop flapping yur’ tin whistle and get us going,” the captain ordered.

“Hoist the sail!” she shouted. “Down with the Boss Man. Up with the proletariat.”

The Otherside pair followed the rest of the crew and began hauling on a rope.

“Wow,” Toriko said, looking up as the massive sheet of canvas arose, white as a seagull’s wing and majestic as a cormorant in flight.”

Then, behind the sail, a train appeared and raced across the sky, a comet of tinsel and stars.

The surrounding crew muttered, “A hype train.”

“I wonder where Captain Twitch is headed in such a hurry.” Yuri said, then typed, “Eighteen-whistle salute! Put yur’ steam into it.”

A deafening cacophony of steam whistles sounded. Deep train whistles, sonorous factory whistles, and two-penny tin whistles split the air and Sorawo’s eardrums.

(To be Continued)

#microfiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #OthersidePicnic #UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #FATEGEAR #Metal #Jmetal #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG #Twitch
@yon @Kingu

#wss366 06/05 #league
*****Return to the FATE GEAR *****
**** Chapter Five ****
**** Toriko Tigers ****
*** Part 2 ***

While she tried to work up the nerve to ask another question, Captain Mina climbed to the poop deck, hit a bass note on her guitar, and announced, “‘The League of Free Buccaneers’ has set sail to topple the Ultimate Tyrant—God. Prepare your instruments. We have many leagues to go. The wide open sky awaits our glorious ascent on the most noble mission of our career. Proletariat, intelligentsia, adventures, scum of the earth, freebooters, pirates—every one of you! Are you with me!?”

The crew roared. “Oi, oi, oi.”

(“I hate it when she gets like this,”) the ship muttered.

“Me too,” NANA said.

“I can’t hear you,” Mina shouted.

“Oi, oi, oi,” the crew yelled louder.

(“Why can’t she just say we’re sailing?”)

“Throw off your chains! Take back the excess value. Eat the rich!” Mina was warming to her speech.

(“Benimori, the captain forgot her meds this morning. Bring them to the Poop right away.”)

“Oi, oi, oi.”

“You have nothing to lose but performance reviews!”

“Oi, oi, oi.”

“Arise, the 99%, and strike down your oppressors!”

“Tiger! Fire! Cyber! Fiber! Diver! Viber! Jya Jya!” The crew started tigering like crazy.

Toriko beamed. “Come on, Sorawo, the idol mix is fun!”

“Tiger! Fire! Cyber! Fiber! Diver! Viber! Jya Jya!” The crew, plus Toriko, screamed.

“Wow, that was something,” Toriko said.

“What was that?” Sorawo asked. It was almost as bad as those Minecraft-inspired stories. Worse, even. Toriko was in on it.

“It’s something you do at idol shows. I’ll teach you.”

“No, thanks,” Sorawo said flatly, not hesitating. She thought, “That was weird. Toriko and idol shows—I can’t picture it. What if she ran into the Akihabara idol mirror?” Another story rose unbidden, the one with the cursed encore loop. “No exit. No audience. Just encores.”

Mina started ranting, reeling off slogans: “Black Lives Matter, Trans Rights are Human Rights, No Justice! No Peace!”

Benimori arrived just in time, carrying a glass of grog and a handful of pills. The captain swilled both without breaking stride.

“She gets like that off her meds,” NANA said.

NANA turned and barked, “To your stations! You heard the Cap. We’re sailing!”

Yuri struck a note on her keyboard. The turbines roared to life, and the crew launched into “Super Sonic Samurai.”

The ship explained the music to the mystified pair, Sorawo and Toriko. (“We have harnessed the power of metal.”)

Youtube: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=SlsOe67JPp0
Sound link: https://song.link/us/i/1573875214

#microfiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #OthersidePicnic #UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #FATEGEAR #Metal #Jmetal #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@yon @Kingu

#wss366 06/01 #Heaven
*** Return to the FATE GEAR ***
Chapter 4
Storm the Heaven’s – The Plan

Sorawo paused, carefully considering Captain Mina’s offer: (Escaping the brig had been easy. Did the ship help? FATE GEAR probably holding a grudge. Won’t be so easy this time, Sorawo thought. Brig, or orders from Captain Mina. Or... stay and keep looking at Toriko’s outfit. Brig or Mina.)

Unlike Sorawo’s careful calculation, Toriko went straight for the most important question. “Is Benimori the cook?”

Benimori saluted her with the spoon, leaving a batter stain on her forehead. (As well as flinging batter in the air that splattered the deck, resulting in the anti-grav turbine revving in protest again.)

“That sounds like HEAVEN!” Toriko said. “What are you making tonight?”

“Fufu cakes with maple syrup, stewed fruit, and American-style bacon,” Benimori answered. “We have lots. We’re fresh from looting Emperor Muskrat’s third-favorite air yacht, the Doge III.”

“Loaded with corporate welfare (‘and worthless crypto’),” Nana said as she joined Mina and handed her an anti-grav ball. “You left this in the mess, Cap.”

(“Capitalism never dies,” Sorawo thought, “it just floats higher and gets a better view.”)

“Fufu cakes! Bacon! HEAVENLY! You bet I’m joining! We eat good tonight!” Toriko had made her choice.

All the timbers of the FATE GEAR groaned, but the ship kept quiet after Yuri typed in, “Be quiet! This be the cap’s call.” It did sound “Tinkle Tinkle Little Star” on the galley steam whistle, signaling the rice was cooked and calling Benimori back to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Sorawo frowned but had come to the same conclusion as Toriko—though for different reasons. (“Shouldn’t have insulted the ship,” Sorawo admitted to herself. “It probably logged it. Probably reads minds, too. Why didn’t I study up on sentient ships? I meant to read about the Yamato. Brig’s going to be reinforced with extra spite this time.”)

But to be safe, she asked, “What are you currently doing, Captain?”

“We shall unseat the pan-ultimate tyrant. The crew of the FATE GEAR sails for the HEAVENS! Let trickle-down begin!”

“Down with tyrants! Oye. Oye. Storm the HEAVENS! Oye. Oye.” The crew shouted and then broke into song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjiGGFW7jBE&list=PLghYzmkF89GlIUtG0vYqyludt0ZQYUTxj
https://song.link/us/i/1573875212

“We’ll join,” Sorawo muttered, hands clamped over her ears as the singing reached its second verse—one she suspected violated at least three Geneva Conventions.

“Welcome aboard, mateys,” Mina said. “Now scrub the decks, ya lubbers. Solidarity doesn’t exempt you from chores.”

#microfiction #NMPrompts #NMV366 #OthersidePicnic #UraPi #Steampunk #Pirates #UraPiFanFic #FATEGEAR #Metal #Jmetal #PoliticalSatire #ReturnToTheFateGear #NMRTTFG
@yon @Kingu

#wss366 5/20 #Serve #MastoPrompt #Vessel

“PDA, PDA — how rude,” FATE GEAR screamed, scandalized by Toriko’s handsy behavior. Her old-fashioned rigging was taut, and anti-gravity engines whined.

“The pirate VESSEL’s voice was excruciating. It bypassed the ears entirely and bored straight into the brain.”

Everyone on deck clapped their hands over their ears — uselessly, except for Sorawo. Toriko might be dexterous, but her hands couldn’t be in two places simultaneously.

(Truth be told, Sorawo was a trifle disappointed. No, she wasn’t! People were looking.)

Only Yuri, the keyboardist, didn’t flinch. Ringing in her ears or not, she was already hammering her keyboard. “STOP IT! How often have I told you not to yell? Do it again and I’ll MUZZLE you until needed!” FATE GEAR usually obeyed Captain Mina, but the keyboard was the only way to make her comply.

“Sorry, very sorry.” Came a restrained reply. FATE GEAR’s rigging sagged. “I exist to SERVE.”

“Hogwash,” Captain Mina said. “You exist to torture us!”

“I’m hurt.” FATE GEAR’s voice was petulant. The ship directed her words only to the captain.

“Put on your big girl panties. A pirate ship needs to be tough.”

“I don’t wear panties, and I said, I’m sorry! I remembered what happened the last time those two disasters showed up. They let loose a sorceress, who threatened the existence of reality, and that assassin woman, the Thorn Princess. I was upset.”

“And who abetted them? You!”

“Uh… are you talking to yourself?” Toriko asked, her face slightly amused.

(Impressed, Sorawo thought, “That’s my girl, nothing ever fazed Toriko.”)

“No, the ship. (Worthless piece of junk.) Anyway, what are you two doing here? I hope it’s not like last time. You made quite a mess of things.”

“A friend, Benimori-san, invited us to a costume party, but we ended up here,” Toriko said.

“Benimori-san,” Mina bellowed, and in a few minutes, the diminutive woman in question appeared, a chef’s hat on her head and a large mixing spoon in hand.

“Yes, Captain?” she said, as batter dripped from her spoon onto the deck. FATE GEAR was not pleased. The engines rumbled in protest.

“Did you invite these two dufuses?” Mina asked Benimori.

“No, they invited me; only I landed on your ship.”

“Otherside shenanigans,” Sorawo whispered to Toriko.

Toriko nodded. The Otherside had tricked them again.

Captain Mina scowled theatrically. “Your fighting impressed me last time. So here’s your choice: SERVE under the #pirate flag, or rot in the brig.”