One rapid step from the Goliath-sized boot sent Watanabe nearly flying in the air. In the reflections of the trembling skyscrapers, he could see brief glimpses of Excel's short-clad legs, the bounce in her bosom as it inadvertently crashed into another structure, and, as she leaned over the people, a toothy, wild-eyed smile. Most disturbingly, she was getting closer; though he dared not look behind him, the details in the reflections kept getting clearer. Though he dared not peek back, her fleeing neighbor could nearly make out the exact buildings she'd destroyed simply by the rubble...
Trying to move his head away, he spotted two familiar faces at a low-budget ramen stand. Iwata, with spiked hair, sat next to the rather pudgy Sumiyoshi; both fellow Municipal workers. Both fully focused on the meal on the table before them.
As Watanabe approached, Iwata could feel the man's angered breath ruffling his shirt from behind. Without even glancing to his friend, he swallowed some noodles and said: "Look, I know what you're gonna say. But the lines here are shorter than they've ever been! Panic and anarchy really makes getting food easier." Ever-silent, Sumiyoshi nodded in agreement.
To prove this statement, fingers the size of tree trunks suddenly fell around the stand, scooping it up from the ground. The chef fell out of it, a loud thud on his elongated head. The table lifted away, along with the two bowls. The neighbors remained still, necks craning up in terror to see Excel's tongue wrap around the shop - and quickly engulf the entire thing in her mouth, chomping it into nothing with a few solid bites.
From atop her scalp, Hyatt waved down: "Why, hello, Mr. Watanabe."
He gasped, reaching his arms as high as he could, leaping up into the sky. "MS. AYASUGI! H-hang in there! We're going to save you!"
At this, Excel's enormous eyes suddenly darted downwards. Her neighbor could see him and his coworkers reflecting in them. "Strangers! A singing voice in my head says I should trample and kick you down!"
Her turquoise sole lifted from the ground, hanging above the three paralyzed companions... Before the revolutionary's head twisted to a building in the distance. The F City Tower; specifically, her reflection in it. She waved to it inquisitively, watching the mirrored image mimic her action. Placing her boot down absurdly close to the trio, she snapped her fingers. "Aha! It's my insidious doppelganger, Excel Kobayashi! I have no idea what you're doing this big, but you won't escape!"
This distraction was JUST what they needed. Watching everything shake as Excel dashed away, Watanabe wordlessly grabbed his friends, continuing his journey.
Excel's neighbor kicked open the door to City Hall, tugging both of his neighbors in with him. He darted to a familiar room, marked by the word "POLITICS" in capital letters. The planning table for The Department of City Security sat in the center; this was where the pen-pushers could figure out how to best respond to a major threat. Two figures had already taken their seats. At one end, Dr. Kabapu. Nobody really knew where he got his doctorate, or what exact authority he had; but his fake mustache and glasses simply demanded attention. At the other side sat a woman.
Name: Misaki Matsuya
Age: 20-something
Hair: red
Gender: Female
Wearing: White dress shirt with yellow vest and skirt
Height: Her trading figurine is approx. 5.5 inches
Personality: the type who gets angry when people try to summarize her personality in one line
Voice Actress: Yuka Imai/Tiffany Grant/Barbara De Bortoli
Favorite interaction: Iwata once told me she likes handplay but I don't trust him
Matsuya angrily shooed away her character profile. She hated it when those things followed her around. The municipal worker gave a long look over the room and asked: "Have we reached the breaking point?"
The man answered: "Yes. I feared we'd reach this position..."
Still catching his breath from the long dash, holding a hand to the wall, Watanabe blurted out: "What? What's with the ominous mumbling?"
At the head of the table, Kabapu explained with the most stern, grim gaze possible: "We've officially hit the DEEP LORE. The point in the story where the author assumes readers are looking for something other than quick laughs, and freezes all giantess interaction so that talking heads can give exposition."
Sumiyoshi's lips didn't budge, but the look in his glasses told everyone his thoughts: Lasted longer than giantessfancomics usually do, at least.
The Department of City Security sat together - an aura of fear and despair floating over their heads, the smell of Kabapu floating in their noses. Occasional tremors and battle cries outside did nothing to calm their nerves.
The good doctor was the one to break the silence: "Briefly state your ideas on how to neutralize this threat. Too much time, and we get stomped out. Or bored to death."
"I don't understand why we're having this conversation." Matsuya shook her head bitterly. "I say we just nuke her."
The mustached man said: "Size change interactives run under the assumption that nuclear weapons are unpredictable magical black boxes. At best, they'll do nothing. At worst, we risk giving her goddess powers."
Iwata leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Meh, that wouldn't be so bad. If she has Benten's powers, she'll be a great artist. If she gets Athena's powers, we'll get a cool Saint Seiya sequel. I can live with that. Now, if we go into the Norse goddesses- that's where things get tricky..."
Sumiyoshi's silence spoke clear words.
Slamming both hands on the table, Watanabe asked: "Why don't we just send the JSDF in, and shoot her to the ground? Then maybe, Miss Ayasugi..." He held back a few tears.
Kabapu answered: "The military cannot spare much of their budget to F City. Besides, her flesh is either too thick to pierce - like her skull - or at her size, skin cells rebuild faster. There's always some sort of pseudo-scientific explanation."
"Like AT fields! Or a wall of psychic energy!" Iwata squealed. "Sweet, we need a special plot device to kill her!"
A few footsteps echoed from a shady corner. A mauve-haired man in a doctor's suit came in: the team's roboticist, Dr. Shiouji. He played with his glasses before enunciating: "May I join in? I've thoroughly studied the multitudes of commissioned art and fiction involving giant Chibiusa."
Matsuya pontificated: "Go neuter yourself, doctor."
Shiouji ejaculated: "Ah, you make me laugh." He ejaculated again before continuing: "Think in terms of the narrative. When given the choice, what type of self-respecting interactive reader picks 'giantess shrinks and everybody is happy and the story ends', when the option above reads, 'giantess keeps on rampaging'?"
"So we're doomed." Watanabe let out a groan, grasping at his hair.
"Doomed," Shiouji said, "unless the option where we win seems appealing to the readers."
"But what would appeal to- aaaah, I see where this is going!" Iwata's eyes gained a sudden blaring fire to them. "Fight giantess with giantess! A sexy catfight between the rampaging woman and some girl on our end - and a quick victory for the Municipal Force!"
"But where do we find a giantess?" Matsuya glanced around, worried.
Shiouji gave the smile of a priest at a funeral. "Well, we come up with some convoluted way to grow you. Or Ms. Momochi. Or, I build an immense Ropponmatsu unit. Then, as Iwata said, we engage with this foe in combat..."
The woman shook her head, getting up to leave the table. "I refuse. What will the public think of their municipality? We'll be seen as monsters, or worse: sex objects! I will not surrender my dignity for the sake of a fantasy."
Kabapu stood up more triumphantly, hands on her hips. "You either surrender your dignity, or the city. It's a choice I made long ago- and I, for one, am glad I chose F City, F Prefacture!"
As usual, Sumiyoshi stared blankly forward. YOU had dignity once?
"There's always a second option..."
From an even shadier, more-poorly-lit corner, emerged a wonderfully handsome man with an astounding afro, a smoking cigarette, a completely original jacket-and-tie combo, and a suave demeanor.
"Nabeshin? When I came into City Hall, I didn't see a sign reading 'open house emergency response meeting'!" Watanabe glared towards him.
"Heh. Heh heh heh." He snickered with the same ambiguous laugh of a man about to teleport behind someone with a katana. "Don't be so quick to show me the door. You're talking to the author's super-powered self-insert character."
By now, all eyes pointed to him. Kabapu stepped closer, inquisitively. "How can we trust you and your afro, Nabeshin? You're a loose cannon!"
Nabeshin just nodded his head slowly, with his arms crossed. "True, but - like many of my kin - I HATE seeing uppity ladies challenging my control of the narrative. I'll take care of her with my bare fists. And my charm. And my scathing, tongue-in-cheek, elbow-in-rib, dick-in-hand meta-humor."
With a smile, Iwata said: "If there's one thing you can rely on more than a writer's lust, it's their ego."
Matsuya paused for a second, before her head tilted. "But... If you're the author, aren't YOU the one who made her grow in the first place?"
His lower lip bulged out in a pout back to her. "Look, do you want me to save your rear windows, or not?"
Kabapu said: "I wish we had more than two choices here... But the cost is too high!"
The cost of what?, Sumiyoshi silently asked.
"Writing.com Paid Membership!"
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