Oh My...I forgot about this little project of mine...

Post Ape New world

"Gibson.."

The blue monkey sighed heavily, setting down the papers he was currently slaving over and observed Otto with a pair of watchful, if slightly annoyed, eyes.

"What is Otto? Can't you see I'm busy!"

Otto ignored the reproachful tone occupying the voice and shuffled his feet against the floor in an unsure manner.

"Er…I kinda knocked my arm on that control panel and I can't twist it back in by myself…"

Gibson sighed as he started work on Otto's crooked arm.

"What else did you break this time?"

"Well…I scratched off the paint a bit but I think it's still in one piece…"

"Actually Otto, I meant you."

"…oh…nah, just the arm…"

Post Snowbound

She wakes. It is cold.

On the wall she can make out the finely tuned edges of silvery letters, pointed with a frosty wisp. They are cold. They are cruel. They cut right through her and steal her warmth.

She stares. It is still cold.

The words glare back and she can see the orange smirk of his face dripping onto her memory like melting ice. That traitor's leer mingles with his handiwork.

Are you feeling cold tonight Nova?

And suddenly she is hot.

...Still Post Snowbound

He is humming a tune or at least a few warm snippets of one, as he rushes round the kitchen in a breeze. He adds a sprinkle of salt, a few vegetables perhaps and watches contently as a tongue of flames tortures the base of a saucepan.

"What are you doing?"

He grins.

"Making soup."

"It isn't gonna poison me is it?"

He stares at her in surprise.

"You actually want to drink my soup? As in soup that I made?"

"I'm cold Sprx", she states bluntly.

"Ah…"

And so they sit. They slurp. They share the silence brewing between them.

And all in a vain attempt to chase off the unknown feelings circulating inside them.

Post I, Chiro

People cry when they're upset. Sometimes they cry when they're happy. Then there's the sort of crying that lets stress break out in rolling waves. But there's also the type of tears that gush out in the form of anguished soul-wrenching grief.

She'd seen it all before. She'd seen the wailing little girls with their grazed knees. She'd seen the water rushing down the pale face of a boy who'd lost his parents to a fire. She'd heard the lonely sobbing of a grandmother who nobody cared to visit any more. She'd seen crying way too many times.

Except she hadn't.

Because there he was, cradling Antauri's helmet with that primitive snarl on his face, all his emotions washed away by something she didn't understand, couldn't even begin to contemplate. It wasn't him.

So she looked at him and he looked back, glaring, snarling, and for a moment she imagined she saw some water glistering in the corner of his savage blue eyes.

They were supposed to be white as well.

And so for the few seconds that he glared at her she wished he would cry so that she would know that there was something still there, still inside. Still human.

But he's not.

And she futilely wishes that he would cry.

Still Post I, Chiro

He stared at the rumble around him, body weight supported by part of someone's crushed car. Everywhere…they had touched everywhere…He shuddered. He felt violated. This was their home, their paradise. Why couldn't evil let them be?

He was selfish. Weak. Stupid. Pathetic. And all he could do was struggle to keep himself heaving and wrenching at the mangled sight of what was his former house.

"Hey!"

He turned his head listlessly to watch his friend scurry over to him in a timid manner.

"It is over?"

He shrugged at the hushed question.

"I dunno. Hope so."

The sound of a jet pack filled their ears and he felt something wet plonk onto his neck and roll down his skin in an agonised manner. His eyes followed the yellow monkey as she streaked back to the Super Robot, crashing through the air with indefinite skill.

"At least the monkeys are back! Guess we're gonna be alright…"

BT glanced at Glenny as he spoke and wondered if his friend knew that monkeys could cry. Probably not.

"I think we won!"

BT turned his head away to avoid the dawning hope on Glenny's face.

"Yeah…"

But for some reason he didn't feel like celebrating.

Post…whenever the heck you want…

These precious things. Let them rain. Let them rain.

She stands there, defying nature and defining innocent steadfastness. Her eyes are blank though the green glint hints of a strong desire to rip down the sneering faces of the clergymen who turn away her impurity from their church doors. A child of the metal, she hates herself and lives for others.

And that same metal grip, a grip she despised, tingeing of the remnant of material love.

These precious things. Let them rain. Let them rain.

And the heartburn drums inside it, almost breaking the clockwork inside her. Her loyalty is unturning and a jagged crack tears it's way through the pink.

These precious things. Let them break me. Let them break him.

It has been an age since she wore it last…the heart that was fixed into her chest from another time, another place. Even without a head on her shoulders, she heard it jangle on a chain, rounded out into a locket by a pair of careful hands.

But he threw it away. And now the contours of that same heart will tear through blemished flesh until nought but the machinery of bone is uncovered. Then they will be the same, his skeleton will dance with her inhuman body, unblemished by the moonlight. That is where they belong.

These precious things. Let them wash away. Let them wash away.

The locket slips, rains through her fingers. It is over. The betrayal will end in revenge.

Let it rain.

Er...3rd Season-ionish

Later they will say I hesitated. They might even claim that I hated him, was wishing for his demise, that I stood there and laughed until his life ran dry. I will meet their ugly looks for I know she will get me through it. They were not there. They could not make the decision I made.

They never let her die before.

This time…this time I held her hand. And I would not let go.

I miss you. But I took her hand and ran, even if it means Antauri isn't speaking to me anymore and the video games console is collecting dust.

You were designed to save the Universe, I know. I'm watching everything crash down around me now. Watching it all burn away like there's no tomorrow. And taking all the curses they throw at me because it was me, my failing, that caused the world to end not yours. Not like it might have been.

Would you have been able to put up with the scorn? No, I think only I could have handled it after years of practise with Gibson.

Otto build a nice gravestone for you yesterday. I wonder if there's enough time left to put it up.

I never thought that it would be my fault. It could have been yours.

Sorry kid. I had to choose.

And I chose her.