Although you may not know it, considering I almost never do oekakis of her, I am a pretty big Tron fan. I doodle her a lot (along with Loathe, Glyde, and other characters), and I mention her a lot, but I rarely actually display any drawings of her. At any rate, if there\'s any other Tron fans out there in that vast sea that is Interordi, you may get a kick out of this junk (and other stuff on my DA account /shamelessplug!).

First of all, here\'s an animation I made featuring Tron to invite people to check out my DA account. It\'s a little large for this place, and I\'m planning to add frames. After I add frames, of course, it will be too large even for my signature there. After that comes to pass, it\'s likely it\'ll be exclusive to my DA account. At any rate, here\'s my little 5 frame Tron animation.



Here\'s a fanfiction about Tron I made over at the Legends station. It\'s kind of small, just four parts. It\'s also a little bizarrely mushy and junk, for me anyways, but don\'t worry. It\'s not just a canned love story. There\'s quite an interesting twist in there.

And Roll\'s not in it anywhere. Not that I don\'t like Roll, mind you. <_<

Awkward Date

PROLOGUE: Clarification

Just to clarify, this is not a Megaman+Tron fan fiction, so please, before you discard it as being a common humdrum romantic date in a black dress affair, please read into it.

Also, to clarify questions I know will arise:
-The current time in the story is about a year after Megaman returned to Earth from Elysium, which places it a little over twelve months past MML2’s ending.
-Soon after Megaman‘s return, a new Gesselshaft was produced to provide a new base of operations for the Bonne pirates. It has yet to sustain any considerable damage worth repair, and is almost an exact replica of the old one, yet is entitled “Gesselshaft Mk.II” all the same.
-I couldn’t write the story in 1st person view, primarily for the reason that I’d feel silly writing as a love-obsessed teenage girl.

If anyone has further questions or spots any inconsistencies or major grammatical errors, please contact me. With that all said, please enjoy the story.

PART 1: The Most Wise and Understanding Brother In the World

Tron was having one of her fits again. It had been a boring week; funds were coming in slow. There were no big plans, no big events, nothing. A few small raids, a couple of encounters with the Loathes, and the measly attempts at capture by disorganized police were all the she’d been blessed with recently. Ever since Megaman had returned and the Bonnes and Casketts parted ways, she’d gone without seeing him. It bugged her; she especially thought of that girl. “Sitting there in her ridiculous red shorts with Megaman all to herself,” Tron thought. “She probably isn’t actually even piloting that puny tin can; I’ll bet it’s on an autopilot.” She didn’t know what was causing these fits: jealousy, passion, insanity, the savage desire for a challenge, or maybe just boredom. She just knew that whatever was happening, she was going to drive herself crazy thinking about Megaman sometime soon. She frequented her diary (which neither her cylinder- headed servants nor her two brothers would ever dream of breeching), filling the pages with the useless streams of babble produced from her head each moment. Nobody would think of looking in it. “Why, only a jerk would look in somebody else’s diary!” she thought to herself. Perhaps she was obsessed, although she liked to think she was still in control.

At any rate, the situation had gotten dangerous. She became aware that the Servbots were beginning to become conscious of her obsession. Occasionally, Tron found she betrayed herself with small actions, and at times, even talked in her sleep about her battles with him. She had no pictures she could look at; a few weeks after his return, his trip was no longer considered news worth airing. She had no previous photographs, which she at first believed was amazing considering how long they’d known each other. However, when she thought about it logically, she began to realize it was only sensible; after all, who in the world would fall in love with their worst enemy? It was completely ridiculous. Her only refuge was to consult the few memory files lying dormant on some of her scrap machinery. It was little but precious. It was the only source she could use to feel like she was with him.

Contemplating over this, she became aware of a Servbot watching her, that irksome #40. “Why was he always in here when I don’t want him to be?” she thought angrily. Suddenly, Tron became worried. The Servbot’s eyes looked as though its busy near-human mechanical AI was attempting to sort out a past conflict, or maybe an order it had received. She realized she had been blushing; she may have even sighed a few times. The Servbot’s hand went to its head as it racked its memory in innocent intent, trying to recall the order. “Oh, that’s right!” he chimed out, “I was supposed to inform Master Tiesel ‘when Tron starts to express strange emotions about boys.’” It was purely a slip-up; she’d gotten careless, and if Tiesel found out about her secret emotion, there’s no doubt he would be irate and dumbfounded. Megaman, or Blue Boy, as he still called him, was still Tiesel’s archrival; he couldn’t let the old grudge die. Whenever a robot had a malfunction or took the slightest damage during a mission, it was ‘that blasted blue boy’s fault.’ Whenever other pirates were captured on the news, Tiesel would grumble ‘it was probably that kid again.’ Whenever a blueprint, a small sum of money, or even a teriyaki pizza went missing, it was attributable to that most heinous of villains, Megaman Trigger. It was a pretty illogical grudge, or so Tron thought. Not only had Megaman saved the entire world of Terra, but also, Tiesel had even helped Megaman out himself. It would be so much easier if she could find a way to make Tiesel get along with the Casketts.

Tron knew what the Servbot intended to do; he’d run back and deliver the new to Tiesel with blinding haste. She had to stop him here and nip it in the bud. She leaned in close to the tiny Servbot as the little robot shook in fear, feeling closed in by her huge, demonic slopes of dark hair. “Tiesel doesn’t need to know any of this, you hear me? “If Tiesel gets any word on what you’ve seen here, I might have to transfer you to the Torture Room. Each day you’ll clean yourself off the floor!” she yelled into the shaking timid Servbot’s face. “Yes Miss Tron! He won’t know a thing!” he whimpered, scurrying out the door with remarkable speed. Tron only hoped that this would be the last time she encountered something like this. Too many close shaves and her life as an infamous and brilliant Bonne pirate would be ruined! “You can be sure Miss Tron, I won’t say one peep!” he yelled back.

5 seconds later, the Servbot was in Tiesel’s room. “Master Tiesel! Master Tiesel! Code I U 2!” The Servbot yelled at the top of his lungs. Jumping out of bed, Tiesel’s mouth moved furiously. “What! Where? Who! When?!” he jabbered. Collecting himself, he asked the little worker, “Are you sure that’s what this is? Last time it was just a fever.” “No sir,” #40 responded, “she even started to say his name. It didn’t sound like anyone important though.” Tiesel sat down on his antique stool, a Bonne family heirloom that had miraculously survived every various explosion he had encountered throughout his battles. He racked his brain, thinking, “Does Tron know any young men?… It seems like we haven’t socialized in ages. The only one I can remember is that blue boy, and Tron hates him just as much as I do, according to her speeches during the Bonne family “Hatred Hour.” Wait a minute! There’s one other!” His mouth fell to his feet, his eyes became two tiny dots, and even the accompanying Servbot was stricken with a sense of dumbness. The answer rebounded in Tiesel’s head many times. He couldn’t believe it. Her taste was incomprehensible; what could that guy have that could attract anyone? Tiesel knew, in his own mind, beyond the shadow of a doubt, with absolute certainty…

Tron was in love with Glyde.

It took a little while for Tiesel to sit down and accept this ‘truth.’ “Why, why, why? Why did it have to be him? She could have fallen in love with somebody nicer, or at least someone with better sense in fashion! I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed as he knocked his head from side to side with both of his tightly clenched, black-gloved fists. “Ah well, I know my duty. I’m her older brother; Mom and Dad wouldn’t have wanted to see her suffer. If it’s a birdie baby wants, it’s a birdie baby gets.” Tiesel rose from his stool, and cracked his knuckles. For the better part of 5 minutes, he prepared himself, loosening his joints, preparing him for the trying task ahead of him, and for that matter, for the misguided joviality of his naïve sister. He knew what he had to do; he would arrange a meeting between them himself. He hoped deep inside his chest that maybe, just maybe, if Tron had a date with that insidious Glyde, she would realize her poor judgment.

Tiesel knocked boldly on his sister’s door, knowing she enjoyed her privacy, an ironic truth when put next to his previous action, which was outlandishly invasive. His nostrils flare, his hair spiked, his dark eyebrows peaked harder than ever before, tension outlining the brow just above his glaring red eyes. Tron came to the door nervously, in a way bearing more shame than she had ever bourn before. She knew Tiesel would be furious; she hoped his eyes couldn’t become redder than previously. She timidly opened the door, and jumped back in fright. She could not face her brother, trembling as she was, seeing him standing erect and furious just outside her door as she had. She ran to her bed, and Tiesel creaked open the door. Both lacked certainty as to the events that would occur next.

“So, Tron, you know you can, ahem, talk to me about anything…” he started, coughing into his hand and puffing out his chest, trying to appear as mature and understanding as their deceased father.
“Yes, Tiesel, I know…” she whimpered pitifully from below her pink pillows into which she had burrowed.
“And, you know, I’ve heard reports from that mischievous little #40 that you’ve, er, taken a liking to a certain enemy of mine. You know, that b-
“Blue armored..?” she asked sheepishly.
“Well… armored…” He replied with a little perplexity. “Anyways, I know he means a lot to you.”
“Yes, I just can’t stop thinking about him Tiesel, even though he’s annoying and is constantly in our way, even despite everything he’s done to you and all of us!” she cried.
“Er, yes, but we’ve taken him before, haven’t we?” Tiesel murmured, his rage beginning to peak thinking back to his previous battles with Glyde.
“Well, technically…” she muttered under her breath.
“As I was saying, if you really want to meet with him, you can sister. I won’t try to stop you. Just… just be careful, ok?” he pleaded compassionately.
“Oh, thank you so much, big brother! I knew you’d understand! I’m sure he’s a nice guy inside! You‘ll love him to, you‘ll see!” she exclaimed with unbridled joy, embracing her brother and beaming from ear to ear.
“Hehe, yes, I’m… I’m sure he is… Yeah right…” he said to himself doubtfully, as he soothingly comforted his delirious sister.

Tron was ecstatic. Just a few days before her life was complete. She’d see Megaman again for the first time in nearly a year! They’d share a romantic evening, and maybe Tiesel would even get to know him too. They could stop fighting and finally live in harmony. They might even be able to start spending time together! She’d never doubted her brother. He was so wise, so understanding, so completely aware of her true feelings; he really was a great man, just like his father. She thanked her lucky stars for blessing her with such a compassionate and intellectual brother. And a giant metal one to boot!

END PART 1

PART 2: Something Unique

“Wow, I’m so excited!” Tron exclaimed, her heart bursting with joy. “I’ve never been to Nino Island before; I heard that now it has a 5 star café! And not a dog, a reaverbot, or that annoying Glyde for miles!” “Ehehe…” Tiesel chuckled half-heartedly. Had that last comment been a joke? He certainly hoped, for the safety of everyone aboard their small, tightly packed Drauche. The island itself was small, but an enormous tower positioned in its center rose up like an enormous beacon, to Tron, a beacon of hope for the future. She saw several Digger ships positioned about. “That’s right,” she thought. Nino Island is home to the Digger’s Guild, where professional Diggers come to take their advancement tests and occasionally even explore the Nino ruins, a cumbersome submerged ruin, one of the most difficult to traverse on all of Terra. At one time, she heard, the Gull’s Café was pretty small. With only a few frequent customers, it was not known to be anything worthwhile. However, now, it was a reservation-only melting pot where only the richest culminated. Its atmosphere was supposedly delightful, and it had expanded nearly five or six times its original size. She couldn’t wait to see Megaman there; she wondered if he’d changed? When they last met after he returned to Terra, he seemed a little more mature; his face didn’t look so ridiculous and laughable as it had back during her time on Kattelox, and his voice was finally starting to show maturity (not that Susan Roman voice he’d been squeaking out earlier). She’d worn something special, and she began to wonder if he would do the same. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him in anything else…” she whispered to herself. “I’m sure he’ll be wearing something… unique.” Tiesel commented from the pilot’s seat with a little bit of sarcasm.

The guild master of Nino Island watched in horror as the pirate ship came ever closer. “PIRATES! JOHNNY, LOOK, IT’S THE PIRATES AGAIN!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs.
“Bah, you old coot, we haven’t had pirates since that incident with that blue kid a while back,” Johnny snapped in return.
“But, but are you sure? Maybe we should get the Parabola Machine up, just in case!” he said, sweating and searching for his island self-destruct button.
Sensing this, Johnny gulped and remarked, “We-we threw that thing away a while back, remember? The button I mean.”
“Ah yes, well, those blasted pirates won’t get an inch nearer to the base! This time the turrets are armed and ready! Haha! We’ve got them this time!” he raved.
“Sir, please, don’t issue the order!” Johnny pleaded, but the guild master was already barking doggedly into the intercom, readying all block 2 turrets to position.

“What? They’re going to fire on us!” Tiesel cried. “Seriously? WHY!?” yelled Tron. She hadn’t even reached the base yet, and already something was going wrong. A volley of elliptical yellow projectile erupted from the barrel of the right-hand turret. In mere moment’s, Tron’s night had been ruined, and the Drauche plummeted violently down. “Haha!” exclaimed the guild master, rising up onto the platform. “We got em!” He danced around haphazardly, until Johnny clutched him violently by the collar. “You old fool, that ship’s gonna crash into the platform!” Running for the exit, they were caught in a massive, spherical explosion, which erupted abruptly from the center of the crash point. The dock was ruined, the Drauche was destroyed, the turrets were broken, and above all, everyone was charred to a crisp golden brown. Tron got up first, desperately shaking the soot off, almost in the manner of a wild animal. She took a fleeting glance at her dress, which was now tattered and informal looking. After a small inspection she turned to her main concern; her hair…

Tron’s hair was fine.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tron brushed the remaining soot from her dress and helped Tiesel and the servbots from the rubble (Bon did not accompany them on this date), not even bothering to give a glance at the fate of the guild master and his attendant. What did she care? It was their fault in the first place that they had crashed. “Well now, I don’t want to embarrass you in front of you date, so I’ll take off now. Be safe Tron!” Tiesel shouted, and walked two steps back. Tron interrupted abruptly, announcing, “The ships broken Tiesel, how are you all going to get home?” Tiesel grayed out in a statuesque manner; he had absolutely no idea. “Don’t you have any other robots on you, Tron!?” he growled between his teeth. “Sure, I have one Tiesel!”

It was a long ride home on the Finkel for two servbots and Tron’s older brother.

Tron stepped through the door labeled “BLOCK B.” Entering into the upper floor of the tower, she was surprised to see how much the place had grown since the stories she’d read a few years ago. The place was bustling, and while they were crude, many new additions had been added in the form of new facilities and expanded rooms. Asking a large, buff man in a red sleeveless t-shirt for directions, she learned that the Gull Café was located on the floor below her current one. She thanked him and politely headed onto the elevator. She thought to herself a little conceitedly, “I can be super goody-two-shoes when I put my mind to it. It’s a synch!” Tron smiled smugly, and let herself off on her desired floor. She glanced around, looking for the blue-armored nemesis she’d been longing to see for nearly a year. Suddenly, something flew up from the Nino Ruins entrance!

It was a small ship. It reminded Tron vaguely of an automobile she had seen back on Kattelox Island; a limousine, she believed it was called. She remembered that Tiesel told her the richest people were chauffeured everywhere in them, and her eyes had sparkled. One day, she was going to ride in one herself. Presently, however, Tron had absolutely no wish to ride in the awful embodiment of exorbitance that had produced itself from the abysmal pit. The entire surface sparkled with rich and pure gold. The front was adorned with a ridiculous figurehead, bearing a small resemblance to the repulsive face of Mr. Loathe, Glyde’s employer (meaning it was likely that Glyde had actually borrowed this on company funds). Its sides extended out bird like wings, purely for the tackiest taste of decoration. There was even a wide spoiler on the back, a blatant giveaway at the crude and abstract taste of the designer. It was horrible. She wished it would have been shot down like her own Drauche, but instead, it landed right in front of her, raising her skirt embarrassingly with high-forced winds. She squinted through the dust, all the while feeling more and more as though she had converted from her wonderful dream to the most horrible nightmare imaginable. The Loathe-faced bird head gazing at her was hideous, though she would have gladly stared at it for hours longer rather than gaze into the face of the figure leaving the bus.

Out came a brown, glistening cane, its ugliness rivaled only by its inability to correctly accessorize any sort of outfit. Worse yet was the awful head adorning it, a golden bird head in the shape of a Birdbot’s, grimacing and unfriendly. White gloves held tight to the top of it, and out arose the full creature to which the gruesome appendage belonged. It could have been an 8-headed gorgon, a hulking reaverbot; anything would have been easier on poor Tron than the slender, golden haired figure that stepped psuedo-suavely from the mock-limousine. His ridiculous hair, gelled even more heavily than usual so that even the giant top hair no longer stood erect, gave him away at a glance. The heavy curtain of hair veiled one of his eyes completely; she would have preferred it curtain both. The one visible eye glared at her with a mix of hostile emotions; a repulsive greed, a smug sense of superiority, even a revolting sense of belief that things were occurring in their own proper way. He wore a brown, steam-pressed suit with a yellow tie, and in general, his appearance radiated the same feeling of mediocrity that her life had been laced with over the past months. She sighed deeply; how did her brother make such a complete and utterly idiotic mistake?

Glyde swaggered over with an almost handsome air, seeming to altogether enhance his laughable demeanor by trying to conceal it, reflecting something similar to a garbage pail sprayed with air freshener, or in this case, expensive cologne. In reality, it was not anything about his natural appearance, more so, the way he poured an entire bucket full of useless extravagancies into his appearance. His hair was not naturally so vulgar, but his overuse of gel and ridiculous styling made it hard to tolerate. He had a jutting chin and a young face, but his constant expression was deplorable (if not even slightly feminine). His physique even struck her as desirable in a male, but littered with horrid abominations of appearance and mentality, there seemed to be nothing that anyone could find attractive about Glyde. With this dry, logical theory worked out, she had a faint notion that perhaps Glyde would simply vanish from the face of the galaxy as a service to all of mankind. No such luck, it would appear.

He stood face to face with her now; she wished it were still possible to look back to the grinning bird’s visage on the front of the ‘limousine.’ Children stared at them strangely, one remarking, “Are you guys diggers? Do you know the story of that blue guy who got the Ruin key a few years back?” Eager to change the topic to such a welcome topic, Tron turned to face the young child. However, as she turned, Glyde reached out with ironically cat-like reflexes and twisted Tron’s arm behind her back spontaneously. As she cried out in startled pain, he realized what he had done, releasing her delicate arm. “Whoops, silly me!” he said, befittingly his first words to her since their meeting on Nino. “It must be a habit I picked up back in Loathe’s office.” Tron barely laughed; it was obvious that anything she had done early to try and comfort Tiesel was a complete lie. Not only was Glyde bad, but if Tiesel could see him now, he would probably declare he’d rather have Megaman seeing his sister (or at least, Tron hoped that would have been his opinion). “So, how have you been lately? No hard feelings towards the past, eh? My, my, my, the Bonnes must be in a real pickle financially. Look at that awful mound of rags you’re wearing. Mayhaps we should go by Tailor Chino’s Fine Apparel Boutique real quick and pick you up something new,“ he suggested, oozing loathsome belittlement. “Heh, yeah,” she mumbled. If he had not flown in willy-nilly a few years back, the turrets wouldn’t have fired on her in the first place…

END PART 2

PART 3: No Off Days

Tron sat down sighing and supporting her head and with one arm in a very bored and embarrassed state as Glyde went through the very typical dating routine of picking out her dress for her (“Don’t worry, I’m a fashion master!” he told her). He sifted through row after roll of ridiculous gowns, obviously searching for one to cater to his own particular tastes. She began to laugh out loud at the thought that Glyde could find his fashion so similar to a woman’s as to do such a thing. Glyde cast a quick glance over to her and said, “I think you should try on a few of these.” Handing them to her, he stood outside and waited for her to change. When she started to pull on the undershirt that accompanied the new outfit over her head, she realized that her hair was getting in the way. Normally, she would dress first and then tend to her massive sloping hairstyle, but she had neither the time nor the correct resources to do so presently. However, after much troublesome experimentation, she managed to squeeze her head through the hole, and then promptly grabbed a mirror to view the destruction.

Luckily, Tron’s hair was fine.

After an elongated period of fitting and critiquing, she finally managed to find a dress that at least remotely resembled the one Teasel had bought for her. She figured it couldn’t hurt to slap one of her metallic Bonne family skulls on the front for decoration, so she clipped it on. At least she had managed to salvage a little bit of this outing. She went to the counter to purchase the new dress, and cast a hopeful glance over to Glyde. His eye, barely moving, rested upon hers in about the same way it always had before: cold indifference. “Well, my dear, this might be a good time to explain a condition of our outing that Mr. Loathe arranged. You see, the Gesselshaft Mk.II that your good big brother parades around did not come cheap. The money had to come from somewhere, you see. You don’t honestly believe that the pathetic pirating skills of the Bonnes acquired that much funding, do you?” he explained with the usual contemptible air. It began to dawn on Tron now what transaction had likely actually occurred to purchase the materials. She raised her fist in the air and brought it down hard on the wall next to Glyde’s head. “Teasel, I swear, I can’t believe you! You actually borrowed from these stooges again?!” she yelled, despite the stares from the shoppers wandering around Tailor Chino’s. “Hm hm, that is correct,” Glyde said triumphantly, seeming to completely forget any romantic air he had been trying to put on. “So I’m sure you won’t mind putting a little bit up front by catching the tabs now, will you?” “Why you dirty!” she exclaimed, but then realizing that a confrontation with Glyde was pointless presently, dropped her voice. She reasoned that she’d rather not fight Glyde unless giant, custom-designed robots were involved.

After paying the exorbitant fee directly out of her own pockets, Tron was resolved to at least get something worthwhile with her next purchase; with this in mind, she managed to convince Glyde against going out and shopping to further beautify herself. They headed towards the new café, which proved to be quite large, or at least when held in comparison to the bar which had previously occupied the spot. Tron smiled at the waiters, enjoying the pleasant, cozy atmosphere. Glyde yelled rudely to a figure in the back of the café, a short figure that waddled towards the front desk slavishly. After peaking his head over the counter, the screw in the top of the head and the beak protruding from the front of the face made it abundantly apparent that the waiter was one of Glyde’s henchman: a birdbot. “Oh no, don’t tell me you guys own this property too?” she said, dismayed. “No worries there!” he piped out. A stern look from Glyde persuaded him to rephrase the previous sentence. “Ahem, keh keh, what I meant was, I am afraid not Madame. This is just a side job.” Tron for a moment pondered what the birdbot had said; she had never taken time to consider what the birdbots might do with their near-human AI. Do they act like the Servbots in their spare time? Are they perhaps deployed on recon and chose specifically for missions, each having their own special skill and artillery?

She stopped daydreaming suddenly, as the birdbot grabbed her hand. At least, her first impression was that her hand had been clutched; however, she soon realized that this is impossible with Birdbot’s very limited reach of their three blocky fingers, and found that he really just sort of slapped her hand as an indicator to follow, and that Glyde had then taken her hand once more. After sitting down, the birdbot handed her a copious menu, filled with many elegant sounding foods. She found it interesting also that they had kept many of the very simple foods from when the restaurant had been a bar. She remembered the menu just vaguely from an earlier family outing she had shared with her brothers. It was a little refreshing for her to be reminded that things had not changed so much since the old days. “Ah, let’s see… I believe the ‘flamboyants fromage, oignon, et crabe boules’ sounds like a wise choice,” Glyde said to her, trying to put on the air of a shrewd dater with lots of experience in impressing his girl. “Pfft… That’s one of those $25.00 affairs they put up just to make people waste money by ordering the fanciest thing on the menu,” Tron thought to herself. “And I bet he expects me to cough up for it too!” “Look, the waiter has arrived,” Glyde noted. “I’m ready to order. I’ll have…” As the waiter jotted down Glyde’s extensive order, Tron decided to take in the scenery around her booth. She observed the fine red leather seating, the smooth hardwood table, and the dim, waning lights that would, in another vivid fantasy of hers, have been very romantic. Just then, however, her eyes met with something that stole the color from her face and cause her mouth to fall completely out of her seat. Just above the booth, in an enormous golden frame with cursive engraving, there was a masterfully designed oil painting of a fierce, pitch black Doberman.

“AGH! IT’S A D-D-DOG!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Almost by instinct, she looked for the nearest lamppost to scale for safety. Seeing none, she darted for the closest nearby asylum, and found it in one of the waiters. She grabbed onto his broad shoulders, and started to hoist herself onto his back. For a moment, the large waiter found this playfully attractive; however, that feeling lasted for only a split second as he began to totter, trying to balance the large dish of plates and martinis. She continued to climb him madly, tearing with her gloved hands and lifting one leg up over his right shoulder. He was losing his balance, and tried desperately to cling onto it with his remaining sense of posture. Suddenly, Tron’s stiff, solid hair smacked his face like a hammer, knocking him out cold. He toppled over, with Tron now at his underbelly, holding the dish high above his head. Dishes and glasses scattered, seeming to fly straight for the receiving party of the beverages. However, by the same horrible fate she had been cursed with thus far, the plates instead hit Tron square in the face as she recovered from her fall. Shaking her head to regain her consciousness, she was met by a volley of stray martini glasses, which wholly shattered as they collided with her hair, drenching her hair with both glass and beverage. Dismayed, Tron pulled out her pocket mirror to find that it looked like a damp pincushion, filled with glass and sopping wet. Amazingly though…

Tron’s hair still held.

She picked a few pieces of glass out of it and looked angrily at Glyde, growling, “I’ll be just a minute.” “Alright, alright, just go on! You’re making a scene out of all of this!” he responded testily. She stomped off to the bathroom and scowled into the mirror, picking out glass and straightening out a few loose locks. It took a deplorably long time to straighten everything out; Tron usually prepared her hair specially with about an hour of styling. She proceeded back to her seat, but then noticed that the waiter was gone. “Um, Glyde, is the waiter coming back for my order?” she asked dejectedly, already knowing the imminent answer. “Ha ha, no dear, I ordered for you,” he said, chuckling. He then added knowingly, “But don’t worry, I made sure to get you something suited to your limited budget.” She smiled crookedly, thinking to herself, “Well, whatever it is, it surely can’t be as bad as some flaming cheese balls…” Just then, the birdbot who was waiting on the table returned with their meals. His annoying, squawking voice spoke, in typical birdbot speech, “Here’s the good gentleman’s meal for the day!” as he handed Glyde his fancy cheese, onion, and crab balls. “Splendid. And for the girl?” Glyde asked, smiling at the corner of his mouth. “Uh oh,” Tron thought suddenly. “It’s another enemy move by Glyde. Can’t he get off of that?” “And for the Madame, keh keh,” the birdbot squawked, “… a hot dog.” “UGH, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” she shouted at Glyde, standing up in her seat. “I don’t like dogs, you know I don’t like dogs! Why are you doing this!?” “Ho ho, I guess some old habits die hard, Tron,” he replied victoriously. “Now sit down and eat your meal. You’re making a scene!” he laughed victoriously. “Oh, I’m gonna make a scene all right!” she yelled, swinging her fist. The elegant gloved hand, clenched into a ferocious fist of rage, collided with Glyde’s cheek intensely, sending him flying into the broad-shouldered waiter and causing the waiter to once again drop his load.


Tron breathed deeply and furiously, in complete shock of Glyde’s stupidity. “Ho ho.. Ho…” he chuckled, brushing himself off and coughing. “You caught me off guard that time, but you’d be a fool to think I’ll let you do it again!” he said, running at her with surprisingly fleet of foot. His fist caught her in the stomach, and he grabbed her painfully by the hair, slinging her into the portrait above the booth. She hit it headfirst, but…

Her hair was still perfectly in place.

The pain was very surprising to Tron, who suddenly realized Glyde’s strength as a full-grown man. As she clutched her side and coughed, she thought back to the ridiculousness of the entire date, starting from Glyde’s entrance in the tacky limousine. Then all of a sudden it hit her, and she asked him, “How did you get that thing in there anyway? Glyde’s one visible eye opened a little more widely for a second. He cleared his throat and said, “I flew it in, of course.” “Yeah,” said Tron, seeing she was on to something, “but how did it actually get through Ruminoa defenses? For that matter, how did it even fit through the gates without damaging anything?” “Well, er…” Glyde said, pondering upon the fact himself. Suddenly, he snapped and put his finger to his forehead, saying, “Ah, that’s right! I just remembered the reason I built that thing. It’s actually a case for a bomb.” Tron blanked out for a second. “A bomb? Are… are you serious?” she muttered in disbelief. “That’s right, a bomb, powerful enough to wipe out every layer of defense remaining in those Nino Ruins. We built it earlier, and it just so happened we were able to modify the case for it enough to pass for a limousine for my grand entrance. I believe the bomb itself has probably been started by now, and the whole thing should explode in, hmmm, 12 minutes or so.” Tron sat back down in her seat for a moment, dazed and confused, however, she soon sprung back to her feet. “12 minutes!? If that thing goes off, it won’t just wipe out your silly ruins!” she yelled, bearing down on Glyde. He shrunk back into his seat, stuttering, “I-it won’t?” “No stupid!” Tron shouted back, “it’ll destroy this whole tower, starting with the base! We’ve got to stop that thing!” “Now please,” Glyde said, dusting himself off and rising back up to his former cocky stature, “we’ve planned this out a little too well to just ‘stop this thing.’ We anticipated that the authorities might have a plan to stop our excursion, so we made removed the controls from the bomb. There’s no way to stop it whatsoever. Trust me on this one.” All at once, they realized the danger of the situation. Sensing that he had realized too, Tron smiled and asked Glyde hopefully, “So, will you help me stop it?” Glyde smiled suavely, reached in his pocket, and pressed a button on a small remote. He then, wordlessly, sprinted for the door, grabbed the birdbot waiter, and ran for the nearest docking gate. “Rrrgh! He makes me crazy!” Tron growled with her face in her hands. “I guess I’ll have to stop it myself.”

END PART 3

FINAL PART: Not So Bad After All

Climbing slowly down the enormous ladder that adorned the wall of the ruin’s fully vertical entrance, Tron became quite uncomfortable. She was still in her full dating attire, so she thought the least she could do was kick off the shoes. Letting them drop, she heard after a little silence a distant thud. She gulped, realizing that the distance down was a lot further than she had realized. Carefully, step by step, she descended downward into the ruin. Suddenly, one of her gloves slipped, and she lost hold of the ladder. “No, I knew I shouldn’t have gotten those!” she yelled as she plummeted downward. Bracing for impact, she was surprised to eventually feel herself fall into water. She collected her thoughts, thinking first, “I suppose the ruins must have flooded after Megaman entered here last.” Her next thought was, of course, directed towards the well being of her hairdo. She gasped and quickly swam back to the surface of the water…

Amazingly, her hairdo was still in place.

“Hmm, that new expensive hair gel seems to work well!” she thought cheerily. She let out another gasp and thought, “I almost forgot about the bomb! How much time is left?” Checking her watch, she saw that there were only 7 minutes left before the time expired. Heading downward through the deep, deep water, she saw the tacky gold and brown limousine that Glyde had flaunted earlier. She looked around for the bomb, but couldn’t spot it anywhere. “Oh great,” she thought to herself, “those knuckleheads didn’t even take it out of the case. At any rate, it’s still dangerous. I’ll have to drive it further into the ruins… although this is dangerous. If I can’t get far enough fast enough, I’ll be caught in the explosion. Furthermore, the bomb might explode as soon as I break through the first wall! No time for hesitations now though.” Worried and desperate, she jumped into the limousine and managed to start it. It was good that at least Glyde’s gang hadn’t managed to flood it or anything.

Pumping the gas hard, she broke through the first and second walls. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, although Tron jarred roughly every time a wall was hit. She also soon realized, after colliding hard with a solid wall, that she would have to aim for the doors if she wanted to get through. The ship didn’t have enough power to plow through anything with no corridor behind it. She was surprised the bomb hadn’t gone off during the collision; she guessed she was just lucky on this one. With that thought, she preceded on through the ruins. 4 more minutes passed; there was only a minute left! She tried to abandon the ship, but found to her dismay that the doors had locked tight, and would not open because of the water pressure. Desperately, she searched the control console for anything at all that could help her. Luckily, there was a function to detach just the driver’s seat into a separate pod, which could be operated manually. Doing so, she finally felt safe. “Maybe this’ll come out ok after all!” she thought merrily. She pumped the gas hard to flee from the husk of the limousine.

Tron had managed to get all the way back to the base of the ruins without being caught in the destination. She assumed it would explode in about 10 seconds. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally, this day’s over! I’ve got to call Teasel and tell him that-” She stopped suddenly. She began to sweat as she noticed that there was a small beeping sound coming from some unknown source. 5 seconds left; she searched franticly for the source of the sound. 4 seconds left; she noticed a small box on the seat right next to her own. 3 seconds left; she picked up the box and began to analyze it, discovering that it was most definitely the bomb. 2 seconds left; she struggled franticly with it, making no progress. 1 second left; she banged it with her fists, trying to find any kind of stimuli that could make the infernal contraption stop. As the face of the bomb read 0:00, still clutching it in her lap, Tron took out her communicator. “This is Teasel Bonne, I’m not at the phone right now. Please leave a message at the ‘babu’. *BABU!*” the voice read out. “Teasel, I hate you,” she murmured quickly.

The bomb exploded, raising a huge cloud of smoke and fire which billowed powerfully from the mouth of the ruins. In their typical stupidity as of late, it would appear that the pirates had created a bomb far less powerful than intended; only the area immediately around the bomb likely obtained any real damage. Still, suffice to say that the first floor of the ruins had been set ablaze. Citizens jumped back and yelled in panic as rescue teams ran to the fire to try to quell it. In the midst of all the chaos, a single figure shot like a comet from the gaping infernal hole of the ruin entrance. Tron collided violently with a wall, flattening her out face-first against the hard surface, and then fell the ground. Covered in soot, her outfit ruined, she yelled at the top of her lungs, “THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!” The sound resounded through the tower, echoing off the walls and reverberating even into the guild master’s office. Although slightly deaf, he covered his ears to avoid the piercing wale. Dusting herself off and gasping through fits of coughing, she managed to bring herself back to her feet. Reaching her hand up to her hair band, she suddenly opened her eyes. Standing right in front of her was Megaman Volnutt.

Tron’s hair band snapped, and her hair cascaded down all the way to her hips messily.

Megaman smiled, waving his left hand, which seemed to be the less threatening of the two, since it was outfitted with the plain looking lifter arm. “Hey Tron. It- it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he stuttered, looking her over with obvious confusion. He seemed to be feeling guilty, as he might have in the old days when he used to reduce her to this condition. “Um… I like…” he said, looking her over for something to make a redeeming comment on. “Your hair.” Tron looked up suddenly, clasping her hands together. “Thank you!” she replied, beaming warmly back at him, without even considering the irony of the comment. *RING!* *RING!* “It sounds like I’ve got to go. Heh heh, I guess Roll needs me. I hope I see you again soon Tron! May- maybe we could meet back here for a date sometime?” he said with his usual shyness. Tron nodded, lost in the bliss of the entire scene. Her dress was dripping and tattered, her hair was in complete tangle and disarray, and on top of that, she went on a date with Glyde. Ignoring all of this, as Tron reached for her communicator that had fallen out of the hole in her purse, she thought, “I guess the day wasn’t so bad after all.”

“I wonder what Tron meant by that? I guess her date went a little sour,” Teasel muttered cluelessly, laying down the communicator. “Babu…” Bon mumbled.

END

(These last two weren\'t really as good as the other two, but meh, I\'m out of ways and situations to say tacky and repulsive.)

((Sob, it looks a lot shorter posted here than on Legends Station ))

[Edited on 24-2-2006 by AimMan v2.5]

[Edited on 24-2-2006 by AimMan v2.5]

Cute animation.

Regular Tron and her dressed up as Trigger are sadly the only ones I recognize, but only because I\'m probably not really familiar with the other characters she\'s dressed up as. I like how you kept as just the lineart without any coloring or monochrome shading - it makes the transition between costumes fairly seamless..

Thank jur guys. I remember 08th MS Team. Pretty fun stuff there. Except that was back when I was all \"TURN OFF THE TV, SHE\'S UNZIPPING HER SUIT!\" Then I\'d usually keep watching anyways. It was that way for a lot of Tenchi Muyo too, I confess.:lol:

Just so you know, the outfits are:
1. Original
2. Swimsuit
3. Laboratory (from MoTB)
4. Lex Loathe (from MoTB)
5. Megaman Juno

If anybody has any ideas for the next batch, fire em at me!

[Edited on 24-2-2006 by AimMan v2.5]

The animation is indeed very cute, you did so well for it being handdrawn.

Maybe one day I\'ll stop being lazy and will comment on your DA.