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+--- Thread: I, Koola (/showthread.php?tid=6936)
I, Koola - Cell - 10-21-2017
Life had gotten decidedly better.
Having found a shimmering portal framed by two bowed palm trees, Koola wasted no time in stepping through what he first took to be a mirage. As he sheared through the boundaries between the white void and the next world, a blast of balmy salt air brushed his face. He flinched at first, expecting it to be the vanguard of the true scorching heat that Hell was so famous for, but it never came. Opening his wary eyes, he took in a sprawling beachscape punctuated by a large city. The blazing sun spun warm light fervently and generously, with not a skerrick of cloud to mar the clear sky.
This wasn't Hell, surely. Koola had no particular attachment to cool sea breezes and oceanic vistas, so yanking away this illusion wouldn't rend his heart in twain. Nor did he hate such tropical getaways, especially not to the point that it would be agony for him to live in one for all eternity.
Ignoring the looming city in the distance, Koola launched into the air and surveyed the area. Dotted all over the endless seas were islands, many so small and distant that he couldn't make out anything about them. They stretched all the way to the horizon, where the deep glassy blue of the sea rested beneath the pale blue of the sky.
The changeling prince touched down on the beach as the gentle tides washed over his toes. He breathed deeply at the caress of the cold water, groping for answers but seeing none. He had a definite memory of his own destruction, so how could he be alive, and with his original body? Had a celestial mistake been made, and he had been accidentally delivered to Heaven? If so, he wasn't about to rat himself out. The error would be discovered sooner or later, whether by a clerk or by Koola's own antisocial actions.
As he watched the sun's rays glisten like liquid silver in the crests of the waves, the foggy memory coalesced. He squinted at the white reflection in the water, as if that sight solidified his thoughts. Only moments before he was deposited in the blank realm, there was a brief split in time where he floated before a glimmering pearlescent child. From what followed, it seemed to be some sort of god, though he did not resemble the kais that he had been told about.
The fanciful words of a child filled his ears, as if he owned some magical playset and Koola was one of its many pieces. The idea of being some creature's toy, no matter how powerful, rankled Koola. Granted, being plucked from his universe at the precise moment of his death wasn't undesirable, not at all. He may have been waking up in the worse plane of existence instead of raking his toes through the damp sand. Also the mention of immortality brought a grin to the changeling prince's purple lips. Frieza had ironically died trying to obtain eternal life, and all Koola had to do to earn it was to perish.
The mention of omnilium stuck out during the speech. The specifics were vague; something about focusing and believing and other faux-inspirational claptrap that he often heard when weak bands of resistance fighters rallied - and subsequently died - against him. He could figure out what all of that meant another time.
Yet this bald, infantile being held him prisoner. What sort of intentions did he have? Was he as almighty as he appeared, stealing people at random and dropping them into his play world? Was there even a way to contact this Omni again, or was the brief and disorienting introduction all he got?
"Huh. Sure would be good to have some henchmen right about now," Koola mused out loud.
The changeling prince strode away from the shoreline and towards a row of leafy coconut trees further into the dunes. He stepped his way through fragments of crustacean shells that lay like a ribbon of stars across the sands, his feet splashing in small rock pools where fish caught by the low tide swam uselessly in circles. A smoothed rock nestled beneath the shade of the palm trees and Koola hopped atop its cool surface and sat down, his tail flopping over the other side. A trio of seagulls soared overhead, squawking as they passed.
As Koola pondered his options, the back of his skull itched. He raised fingers to scratch it, but instead found a cold, rectangular object glued there. Startled, he grabbed it, broke it free and examined it.
A grey computer chip. One that looked awfully like ... the brain of the Big Gete Star.
"How long have you been there?" Koola asked. No response came.
Koola's fingers twitched. If he balled his fist, the chip would sputter and fizzle out, never to lead him to become a monstrous parasitic robot again. He may have been grateful for the extension of his life in his previous life, but in this new dimension, he wanted to be himself. The loss of sensation, the constant need to excavate and consume planet cores just to continue existing ... why would he want to put himself back through that? There was no joy in that life.
And yet the only time he held his own against the new Super Saiyan strength was when his image was constructed in self-healing robotic technology. Was the empire his father built worth anything if they could be bested by such scum? Was technological augmentation the only way to secure the family legacy?
But what sort of legacy rested on such confected power? If he could do it, what's stopping anyone else from building a war machine and challenging him? And yet if that happened, wouldn't it be wiser to augment himself in preparation for such a day?
No. Just as he found his transformed state, he would get stronger by himself. Standing, Koola drew his arm back and hurled the computer chip towards the sea. The silver chip glinted in the sun light before plopping into the water.
Koola cracked his knuckles. "There. Decision made. Whatever I become in this new realm, it won't be dictated by a pile of electricity and steel. Only myself."
RE: I, Koola - Cell - 10-26-2017
Shades of pale violet and deep blue soaked into the sky as the sun dipped below the island-strewn horizon. The vanguard of the coming stars glinted faintly where the twilight palette joined. Ships creaked as sailors plodded down wooden gangways hauling crates full of some product or another, their captains standing with stiff postures, heads turning as each member trundled onto the piers. Sunbakers along the beaches rose from their towels and flapped the sand from them, rolling them into scrolls and strolled back towards the island city, the inviting yellow lights of its many buildings calling to them.
Koola paced down the pier as the lamp posts ignited, lining the path to the establishment at the pier's terminus. He fastened fingers around his forearms behind his back, his tail slumped and trailing behind him. Humanoid creatures lounged on benches on the pier's edge, some holding hands, others resting in the crook of their partner's arm, others gripping torn brown paper bags and bringing it to their lips. The din of a dozen voices talking at once meshed together to create an incomprehensible stream of noise. His red eyes snapped between each person he passed.
At the end of the pier, a human in a black and white suit stood with a genial smile behind a wooden lectern where a thick book busting with paper was opened. He spoke briefly to a couple of elegantly dressed customers, jotted something down and turned to face Koola. To his credit, the amiable countenance didn't twitch or drop at the sight of the changeling prince's clothe-less violet skin.
"Good evening sir," he greeted, eyes smiling with his lips. "Did you have a reservation?"
Koola's eyes narrowed. "I'm not ... accustomed to requiring a reservation."
"Oh! Fresh off the boat, are we?" the maitre d' said, his fingers flipping pages. "You've picked a wonderful night to visit the Silver Pearl. The night promises to be a spectacular one and someone cancelled! The table is outside, if you'd care to follow me?"
Koola breathed deeply and nodded. The maitre d' preserved his smile and lead the way towards the restaurant, hanging to the right side of the pier. Its walls were entirely made of glass, showcasing the gentle light and burgundy finishing within. Its roof rolled up and down like a wave cresting, falling and rising again.
Picking their way through rounded tables laid out around the outside of the Silver Pearl, most tables being empty, the maitre d' reached the edge of the pier and gestured to an unoccupied table. "Please take a seat, sir. I will be back momentarily with the wine list."
Koola sat in the chair offered and stared out into the darkening horizon. The gentle rumble of the surf meeting the sands broke up the harsh squawking of the seagulls that wheeled overhead.
The changeling prince drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. As an unexpected visitor in this new land, he decided to rein in his regal sensibilities and at least attempt to see his presence through the eyes of the lesser creatures here. Having to reserve a table? Removing his choice to sit where he pleases? Unbecoming of a prince as they might have been, Koola couldn't afford to throw his weight around until he had a proper appreciation of his new home and exactly how strong he was here. If there were more like Omni, or even himself, he might not get his way as often as he would like.
"Here you are, sir." The maitre d' handed Koola a laminated menu, its items scrawled in loops and flourishes. "Would you like to hear the specials?"
Koola grunted. "No."
He ran his eyes over the admittedly wide selection, yet none came close to resembling anything the changeling prince had ever sampled. Koola planted a finger on the most expensive wine on the list.
The maitre d' collected the menu. "Excellent choice sir. The fruity undertones of this particular vintage are a delight to experience. How will you be paying?"
Koola furrowed his brow. "Paying?"
"Yes, sir. We accept omnilium, all major credit cards-"
"I don't have anything on me. Do you see any pockets?"
The maitre d' paused a moment. "I'm sorry sir, but I cannot provide you with food and wine if you do not have a way to pay."
A heat swelled in Koola's chest. He leapt to his feet and spun about. "Now you listen to me-"
The maitre d' scowled but his brow twitched, revealing his discomfort despite the strong facade. Koola saw himself in the reflection of the scared human's eyes.
The changeling prince looked down and cleared his throat. "I will enjoy the view for a few minutes more and then leave. I trust you have no objections."
"N-no sir. I hope we will see you again in ... better circumstances." The maitre d' hurried off.
Better circumstances. Koola's eyes rested on the dividing line between sky and sea. A prince of a belligerent empire stuck in an unknown universe without a credit to his name. Was there a question that circumstances could get worse?
The sky turned from purple to navy to black. Koola stood and faced the walk down the pier as the maitre d' arrived with a generous glass of cloudy red wine, smiling despite their earlier altercation.
"Your wine sir." He handed it to Koola, who took it gingerly.
"I don't understand," he said, swishing the deep burgundy liquid and sniffing it. "I didn't pay."
"It seems a payment was made on your behalf."
"By who?"
"I am unsure sir, but your meal has also been taken care of."
"I didn't order a meal."
"A black pepper crab will be on its way shortly. It seems someone is fond of you." The maitre d' flashed his white teeth again and walked off.
Koola dropped back into his seat and sipped the wine. An explosion of flavour saturated his tongue as he gazed at the gleaming stars. He cast a gaze around the now full tables on the pier, expecting to see someone watching him and ready to make themselves known but no one looked knowingly back at him. He took another mouthful as the maitre d' delivered the black pepper crab. The delectable scent awoke a grumble in his stomach and he tore apart his meal, savouring every bite that funnelled through his oesophagus.
He sighed contently at the broken shell of the crab and left his table, his eyes darting about for the one responsible for his free meal. Perhaps a member of his forces had recognised him and provided the necessary payment; Koola had no mind for his lackeys' faces. Still no one stepped forward.
Koola strolled down the pier with a placated appetite but a new niggle joined the others in his mind, almost certain that he was being watched.
RE: I, Koola - Cell - 11-17-2017
Koola cast his gaze over the piers. Sprawling sails of galley ships rippled in the wind as sailors tore around the decks in preparation for their next journey.
The changeling prince could easily leap into the air to find a new island but it wasn't exactly without effort; since his arrival in the Omniverse, Koola noticed that his strength and stamina weren't what they used to be. Flying at maximum speed for even an hour wore heavy on him. He chalked it up to some weird dimensional jetlag and expected his condition would improve over time. For now, it seemed appropriate to purchase a ride on one of the travelling galleys.
He ran his eyes over the available options. The first creaked as the crew members trundled over the deck, its sails tattered and listless. Not of a standard befitting one of Koola's station. The second's deck was noiseless and glistening with soapy water while the sails flapped unblemished in the high winds. The stench of fish, however, carried on the wind even to where Koola stood. Another choice crossed off the list.
"Excuse me sir," issued a voice from behind. "Might you be Koola?"
The changeling prince spun on his heel and scowled. A man in a trenchcoat and a wide brimmed hat stood with hands in his pockets. "The correct title is either Lord Koola or Prince Koola. However I'm feeling charitable today so I tell you this free of charge. The next and more pertinent question is: who are you?"
A flash of silver streaked towards Koola. Eyes wide, he stepped backwards as the blade of the knife scraped over his chest armour and deflected from its target of the underside of his chin. Koola's tail lashed out and clamped around the assassin's wrist.
"Perhaps a stab in the back would have been more efficient?"
"Had to make sure you were my mark. Don't get paid for killing random civilians."
The assassin's other hand struck from its pocket gripping another sharp-tipped knife. Koola's tail uncoiled and retreated as the second jab met air.
"You're not getting paid for me, either. But we'll have a nice, long chat after this introduction reaches its inevitable conclusion," Koola said. He primed his fists and tensed his muscles.
"Another time," the assassin said, snatching a black bauble from a pocket and dashing it against the ground. A thick shroud of oily smoke spewed over him in a wide curtain. Koola coughed and hacked as it entered his lungs, as did the other civilians loitering on the pier. He stumbled through the gas and rubbed his stinging eyes. The trenchcoat jumped into the air and fluttered into the ocean, formless and twisting. Koola locked onto the fleeing assassin as he tossed his hat like a frisbee and sprinted down the pier, knocking people over as he went.
Koola zipped into the air and flew after him. A trail of prone bodies through the crowd led to a single human flat on his face. The changeling prince smirked as he swooped down, thanking the assassin's clumsy retreat for ending the chase swiftly.
He wrapped his tail around the victim's neck and hoisted him to eye level. "Assassins are supposed to be more stealthy in their retreats. Ones like you don't tend to get second contracts."
The human man scratched at the purple coil fastened around his neck. "B-but I'm ... not ..."
"Don't be so churlish in defeat. Accept your failure and we can discuss what I plan to do with you."
"Excuse me, uh ... sir?" another member of the throng said.
"Yes? What is it?"
"That man ... he wasn't the man running, if that's who you are after. He shoved all these people aside and slipped towards the beach." She pointed at a long stretch of sand bordered by a forest of palm trees. "He was trying to trick you."
Koola frowned at his quarry as he spluttered and wheezed through the small gap the changeling permitted in his wind pipe. Now that he focused, he found it hard to believe that this flailing human could be a paid murderer. The thongs hanging from his feet probably should have given that away.
Koola dropped the human and darted into the sky, firing a nova of wind that knocked over the bystanders yet again.
Palm trees waved in the breeze, leaving gaps - and shadows - between each leaf. If the assassin was skulking through them, Koola's eyes couldn't see them.
Blast it. If I had my Gete Star upgrades, there would be no way for this malcontent to evade me. I'd settle for a functioning scouter.
Koola stopped and held out a splayed hand. He could bombard the palm tree forest with energy attacks but his power had not yet recovered to pre-death levels; he wasn't sure he could decimate the landscape fast enough to remove the camouflage before the assassin escaped. The only other option was to descend to the sandy floor and lure him out into another fight. Koola rarely underestimated his opponents but surely the assassin couldn't ambush him if the changelinge prince was on guard.
Landing on the cool, shaded sand, Koola crept around the bended palm tree trunks. The hustle of the pier whispered on the wind but the rustling of the canopy drowned it out. Koola strained his hearing, tensing for the sound of feet shifting sand.
"I know you're here," Koola said. "Come out and face me. Stop cowering behind the trees like a child."
"Who said I'm behind the trees?"
Koola spun as a wall of sand exploded from the ground. The assassin sheared through the grains and stabbed downwards, burying his knife in Koola's shoulder. Pain bloomed as warm purple blood flowed from the wound.
"How dare you?!" Koola roared. His tail lashed out and smacked the assassin square in the chest, knocking him backwards. The knife still protruded from Koola's body.
The assassin fished out another two daggers from sheaths strapped to his legs and gripped them, blades facing down. "I don't leave a job unfinished."
Koola gritted his teeth and tore the knife from his shoulder. He groaned as a fresh well of blood oozed free and trickled down his arm. He inspected the knife, turning the purple-stained blade over. Nothing seemed special about it. Koola laughed.
"What's so funny?" the assassin said, taking slow steps towards his target.
"In my home universe, a piece of sharpened steel would have shattered on my bare skin." Koola kept his red eyes on the weapon in his hands. "Now it seems I'm fragile. Weak. My ki does not strengthen me in the same way it once did. Ever since I met that blasted saiyan, I've gone from one failure to the next ..." Koola's gaze snapped up to the creeping assassin. "But this won't be one of those failures."
Koola dashed forward and stabbed with the knife coated in his own blood. The assassin stepped back, parried the blade with his own, and slashed. His dagger skated over Koola's cheek, barely missing his right eye. A new sting pulsed on Koola's face, but he stayed in the moment. He threw his weapon into the sand and charged forward, throwing a swinging kick. As he predicted, the assassin shifted out of its path. On the follow-through, the tip of Koola's tail wrapped around the knife in the sand and flung it. Moving with reflexes faster than the changeling prince had predicted, the assassin, though wide eyed, tangled the airborne knife in his daggers and deflected it into a nearby palm tree. Koola sprung forward and drove his fist into the assassin's face, knocking him backwards. The royal primed another punch but a warning swing of a dagger caused him to hop out of its range.
"If that's all you've got, this fight won't last long," Koola said.
The assassin nodded to Koola's shoulder. "I'm not the one with a bleeding arm."
There was a hint of truth to that statement. A lightheadedness became apparent as he watched the trails of his violet blood slinking down his arm. He moved his arm but an acute jab of pain flared in his shoulder. It was still possible to roll the joint but it hurt and relying on it to fight was a bad idea. The assassin took a set of knuckles to the face but otherwise Koola had landed no damage on him. Koola was right; the fight wouldn't last long, but it wasn't certain that he would be the victor.
"I can change that," Koola said. "Maybe I'll make a few other parts of your body weep red as well."
Bluster mostly, but Koola intended to injure his opponent worse than he originally planned. The fog in his mind thickened as more blood seeped from his knife wound. He had to stop that before the next strike.
Clapping his hand on the wound and grunting at the sting, he channelled ki over his palm and applied pressure. He clenched his teeth and growled as vapour escaped around his hand and the pain intensified. Stinging coupled with burning to provide an agonising bouqet, but he only had to hold it for a moment. The air rushed from his lungs once he was done. The smell of seared flesh, unfortunately, did not leave so easily.
"You can cauterise your own wound with just a hand," the assassin said. "Interesting."
While the blood had been stoppered, the loss of it still weighed on Koola. He needed a plan to finish the fight quickly. His eyes cast over the gadgets and objects hanging from the assassin's belt. Koola noticed the pouch where the assassin had plucked his smoke pellet from. A few other objects were indiscernable but he spotted a taser. A quick application of the sparking end of that item would floor his adversary and it wouldn't require a lot of strength.
Koola focused on the taser and willed it to him.
"What are you doing?" the assassin said. "Are you getting drowsy from the blood loss? Is there any point in fighting or should I just wait until you fall over?"
Koola tried again, mentally reaching around the object and pulling it to him, but nothing happened. His telekinesis wasn't working? Why?
The confusion must have shown on Koola's face. The assassin stepped forward boldly. "Yeah. I think we'll end this now."
"Come on!" Koola growled. This was unacceptable! This dimensional jetlag was starting to look like it would never fade, and worse, it was affecting more of his abilities than he first realised. His concentration went limp. Koola dropped to a knee, splashing in the blood that he had lost. It was only then that he realised how much leaked out of him. In a way, it was a wonder he had stood for as long as he did.
The assassin loomed over him.
"At least before you kill me ... tell me who sent you," Koola said. "I've earned that much."
"No, you haven't earned anything. I'm not one for revealing my employer. It's my code of conduct."
Koola looked up at him. "I'm immortal. When you kill me, I'll come back to life and hunt you down." He wasn't sure if he would resurrect like the glowing child promised but he had no reason to disbelieve it either.
"A Prime? Thanks for telling me. I like to know when I've bested one of your kind," the assassin said with a smile.
"Did you hear me? I will come back and -"
"Yes I heard you. But it's not the big threat that you think it is." He paused a moment. "Actually, I will give you one thing." He grabbed Koola under the arms and stood him up. "You fought well. I will let you die on your feet."
The changeling prince's eyes fell on the taser once again. Why couldn't he call it to him? "You're too kind."
The assassin's face fell. The dagger screamed for Koola's throat. Koola's eyes flickered.
Crackling filled the air. Koola snapped his eyes open. The assassin, lurched in mid-stab, trembled and groaned as electricity coursed over his body. He tumbled to the ground, smoke seeping from his black clothes, his fingers loosening on the dagger.
Crouching, Koola looked over the assassin's body. The taser had exploded and discharged its power into the assassin, but Koola was certain he wasn't responsible for the result. Was it some delayed result of his telekinesis or had the device malfunctioned?
It didn't matter. Koola turned the assassin over and removed anything he presumed to be a weapon. He sat down, weary but determined, to wait for the assassin to regain consciousness and find out who sent him.
RE: I, Koola - Cell - 11-18-2017
A dimming fire crackled by Koola's feet. He grabbed a thick chunk of wood at his side and threw it into the flames. Slowly the orange tongues licked and climbed over its new fuel, cracking with spurts of glowing embers. He clawed at the cooling sand with his toes and poked the unconscious assassin with his finger right in the ribs.
Hard.
His body rolled and flopped back.
Koola looked up at the stars. Not long ago he was floating through the inky expanse, devouring planets for his own sustenance. He had always been a world-ender but not on a scale that required it for him to live. As much as he loved having sensation back, he missed the overwhelming power that the Big Gete Star imparted to him. He glanced at the assassin. He would have fallen much faster. A stab to the shoulder would have been instantly repaired. He rolled his scalded shoulder. It still ached.
Koola filled his lungs and jetted air out his nostrils.
How would his brother handle this situation? The assassin would likely be dead, possibly dismembered for the sake of it, and Frieza would be on his merry way, believing any future assassin would share a similar fate. Maybe if another attempt on his life was made, he would go to greater lengths to find out the one paying for the hits, but probably not. His rage and indignation knew no bounds and easily overrode his intelligence.
A groan escaped the lips of the assassin.
Koola stood and slammed his heel over his captive's throat. His three-toed feet clasped the neck like a hand, strangling him enough to labour his breathing without outright suffocating him. His middle toe slapped directly over the assassin's mouth and nose.
"About time you woke up."
Hands grabbed for weapons, but Koola had disposed of them into the sea a few hours ago. Instead they came for the changeling prince. The assassin balled his fists and hammered on Koola's legs. The hits were firm but powerless. Maybe he was choking the human too hard. No matter. It was more incentive for him to come clean before he passed out for the last time.
"I've wasted an inordinate amount of time waiting for you to regain consciousness," Koola said, leaning over to stare the assassin in the eyes. "Now I'm a reasonable emperor. I know you were only doing your job. I can respect that. I don't pass judgement on what you do. My own line of work has led to the death of trillions. But they were all insignificant. They were road blocks, obstacles to my objectives. As, I'm sure, were most if not all of your past targets. Unfortunately for you, you've encountered someone much more significant than you could have realised."
The assassin stared at him with bloodshot eyes, his fingers trying to dig beneath Koola's toes. He could feel the rasping breaths brush over the skin of his foot.
"But, as I said, I'm reasonable. You took a contract and you didn't know anything about the target. How could you? I'm brand new to this dimension. So if you are willing to give me the information I am politely requesting, you can go back to killing people for profit without any ... disabling injury. I don't care how you get out of my contract. Fake your death, change your name ... it's up to you. Use your imagination."
"But if you don't respond to my request in the affirmative and to my liking ... well, I'm sure the carnivorous creatures of the sea would love to dine on a half alive, fully conscious meal. That's assuming I don't decide to take you apart myself." Koola straightened his back and lifted his middle toe. "So, how do you respond, human?"
The assassin took in a gasping breath. Koola allowed him time to regain his composure.
"If I give that away, I'll never get another contract. Assassins need to be secretive for a reason."
"If you don't give it away, you'll never get another contract for an entirely different reason," Koola said, baring his teeth. "And the longer you make me wait, the more likely I'll change my mind and torture the information out of you instead."
The assassin scowled. "You don't get it."
He grabbed a handful of sand and flung it in Koola's eyes.
"You bastard!" Koola growled, taking a step back. He frantically rubbed the grains out of his eyelids and blinked back the pieces that clung stubbornly to his lashes.
Focusing his sight, he spotted the assassin sprinting deeper into the palm tree jungle. The black of his costume hid him well in the dark of the night and shadows but Koola could still see him.
Koola exploded from the ground like a bullet and weaved through the palm trees, his purple aura blazing around his body. The flaring light illuminated the trees as they approached and shone on the fleeing assassin. Koola laid down a burst of speed and shouldered his quarry in the back, sending him tumbling over the ground.
Scowling, Koola landed by the assassin and coiled his tail around the human's neck. He lifted him to eye level.
"I was reasonable!" Koola yelled, slamming a fist into the assassin's stomach. "I gave you a way out!" Another punch to the gut. "All I asked for was a name!"
Koola hurled the assassin into a palm tree, shuddering the trunk. He stalked up to him, his body slumped. Reaching down, Koola grabbed the human's hand, the one that threw the sand.
"The remarkable thing about humanoid biology is that it tends to be the same across many alien species," Koola said, his voice low. "As long as you have a skeleton, muscles, bones and nerve endings, they will typically be uniform as others who share your attributes. It makes it tremendously easy for people like me who need to inflict pain."
Koola twisted the hand in a jerking motion. A crack sounded from the human's wrist and he cried out.
"Now that hand won't be useful for a while. If you'd like to have a left hand into the future, answer my question now. Otherwise you'll be fitting a prosthesis."
Blood ran down the assassin's chin. "F-fine. I'm not going to d-die for the fat prick. His name is Godfrey Rolsin."
"Finally. You had to make this hard on yourself, didn't you?" Koola said, though the name didn't ring any bells. "Where can I find him?"
"He runs the Rolsin Trading Company. It's based out of Costa del Sol. Look up the company and you'll find him."
"Why did he want me dead?" Koola could guess; maybe he was someone the changeling prince killed in his home universe, got a second chance just as Koola had and looked to even the score.
The assassin shrugged, cradling his broken wrist. "Reasons don't matter for hits. I just ask for the target name and description. Don't care what you did to him."
"That makes two of us," Koola said. He sized up the assassin for a long, quiet moment. "I can't decide if I'll kill you or not. You openly defied me and definitely have a grudge against me now, but you did capitulate, even if it was after I snapped your bones."
The assassin eyed Koola. To his credit, he didn't beg for his life.
Koola spat into the sand. "Get out of here. If we cross paths again, I will kill you."
The assassin stood shakily using the palm tree as support. His lips parted, but if he planned to speak, he thought better of it. He turned and limped away.
Once Koola saw the assassin's form dissolve into the black of night, he hovered into the sky, the leaves of the palm trees brushing over his shoulders. The day had taken its toll. A violet aura engulfed him and he sped towards Costa del Sol to spend another night in a luxury hotel at the expense of his mysterious benefactor.
RE: I, Koola - Cell - 11-28-2017
The Rolsin Trading Company’s main office stood immaculate and professional on the sidewalk. Sunlight blared from the burnished glass windows, making it difficult to make out the interior.
Koola stuffed the last croissant from his indulgent breakfast into his mouth, his tongue lapping up the stray trickle of jam that ran down his chin. He hoped he hadn’t eaten too much; the last thing he wanted was a stomach cramp while he dealt with this Godfrey Rolsin, the man responsible for sending an assassin to take his life. The night of sleep in his penthouse suite had done him a world of good, though. His muscles, rested and firm, were prepared for whatever Rolsin had in store for the changeling prince.
His thoughts drifted to the expenses-paid existence he lived in the Omniverse since his meal at the Silver Pearl had been covered through mysterious means. He had shrugged it off, thinking a lackey of his was watching out for him, but curiosity scratched at him. Once he punished Rolsin for his intransigence he would dedicate his time to discovering the identity of his benefactor. Until then, he had work to do.
The automatic doors slid open as Koola approached, blowing a refreshing buffet of air-conditioned wind over his body. His knife wound especially appreciated the cooling sensation. He entered a large square foyer, its walls constructed of glass, brightening the room to the extent that it felt like it was outside. A wide flight of stairs rose to a platform at the back of the room, from where two other staircases rose to the second floor, one to the left and to the right of the platform.
A white desk sat in the centre of the foyer with a woman typing at the keyboard, her fingers a flurry of activity. Her eyes glanced up at Koola for a split moment and flicked back to her monitor.
“Humans. Humans everywhere,” Koola muttered to himself.
He strode to the desk and looked down on the human woman in her office chair. She lifted a finger, her eyes glued to her screen, her free hand pecking at the keyboard. She made an emphatic few strokes and turned to Koola, congenial smile on her face. “Good day, sir. How may I help you today?”
Odd. She didn’t seem fazed by Koola’s appearance. He didn’t know a lot about humans but he didn’t think someone of the changeling royal’s attributes would go unnoticed, even if the cues were silent. He’d seen many gaping mouths and wide eyes in his time as an imperial invader. Maybe this Omniverse was filled with bizarre and unique creatures, at least to a human’s perception, and yet such things became mundane when presented with them every day.
“I’m here to see Godfrey Rolsin,” Koola stated, looking down his nose.
The receptionist’s fingers danced over the keyboard. “Your name?”
“I don’t have an appointment,” Koola said, narrowing his eyes. “He’s not expecting me.”
“I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to make an appointment to see Mr. Rolsin. He’s a very busy –“ She frowned. “Wait a moment.” Clicking of keys filled the silence. “It seems you do have an appointment. For ... right now. That’s strange. That wasn’t there a minute ago.”
Koola eyed the woman. Incompetence or a computer error? Or something else? “So do I have permission to see Godfrey Rolsin now?”
The woman gazed up at Koola, her face screwed up in confusion. She adjusted the glasses that slipped down the long bridge of her nose. “Yes. Follow the stairs to the right, then turn left and follow the hallway to the far room. That’s Mr. Rolsin’s office.”
“Wonderful,” Koola remarked dully.
He climbed the stairs, taking each step slowly and purposefully. Unlike some people he was related to, Koola often enjoyed the anticipation of revenge more thoroughly than the act itself. He pictured the ugly, blubbering human falling backwards off his chair and wetting himself as Koola burst into his room. He saw in his mind the sweat drowning his face, the rapid chattering of his teeth as a red glimmer of energy blinked to life on the tip of Koola’s finger. He reached the second floor as his fantasy reached its climax; a hole in Godfrey Rolsin’s forehead and a new shade of crimson decorating his wall.
Koola strolled down the corridor, his tail swishing from side to side. He ignored the procession of doors lining the walls, his red eyes locked onto the final door at the hallway’s terminus. He reached the end, turned the knob and walked casually into the office.
Glass walls flooded the office with light. A gorgeous vista of the ocean greeted Koola’s eyes as he stepped in, the glittering turquoise waters flat and catching the sun’s light like a field of diamonds. In the corner of the office was a L shaped desk and its occupant immediately stood to his feet. He ran a pudgy hand over his closely cropped black hair and beard. His eyes vanished in his wide face as he grinned, showing immaculate white teeth. He edged around his desk and waddled over to Koola, his grin never leaving his face.
Koola furrowed his brow. This wasn’t how he pictured their first meeting to begin.
“Godfrey Rolsin?” Koola asked, uncertain.
“Yes!” he exclaimed in a bellow. “Well, not exactly. Please! Take a seat.”
Koola eyeballed the fat human. Something was amiss, but he was willing to let it play out.
Godfrey returned to his chair and Koola sat in another seat on the opposite side of the desk.
“Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water? Wine?” Godfrey said.
Koola was in no mood to be mollified. “What do you mean, not exactly? Who are you?”
“Straight to business,” Godfrey said, his stupid grin still etched onto his rotund cheeks. “I am a Godfrey Rolsin, but not the Godfrey Rolsin.”
“To the point, human. I dislike statements that raise more questions than they answer.”
“As you wish. I am a robotic copy of Godfrey Rolsin. I was instated to protect you and your interests. The real Godfrey Rolsin wishes you dead.”
“I knew that,” Koola said. “Where is the real Godfrey, then?”
The fat human waited a moment, as if he was thinking, though his toothy smile failed to waver an inch. “I can provide the location, if that’s what you desire.”
“I do desire,” Koola said. “But how do I know this isn’t a wild goose chase, or worse, a trap?”
“Easy,” Godfrey said. He pressed his palms into his round cheeks and snapped it to the side.
Koola twitched. “Did you just snap your neck?”
“No, I unlocked it.” Godfrey spun his head around the stump of his neck like it was a screw lid of a bottle, smiling all the while. Another jerk and the head separated cleanly from his shoulders. The body placed the head down on the table. No blood or spine poked from the neck.
“This is ... quite unusual.”
“Please believe me,” the disembodied head said. He closed his eyes for a moment before snapping them up again. “You should have a sense of where the true Godfrey Rolsin is now. The rest can be explained to you there.”
“You expect me to believe you magically, telepathically imparted the knowledge of this Godfrey Rolsin’s location into my brain, as if –“ Koola’s lips stopped in mid-sentence as a realisation came upon him. A feeling sprung within his mind that pointed him in a certain direction, towards what he was almost certain was his target. “How did you do that?”
“I can answer that later,” the robot said, reattaching his head. “If you wish to see Godfrey Rolsin alive, you better leave now. Feel free to use the window! Glass isn’t very expensive to replace.”
“I...” Koola stood and blasted a pane of glass into fragments with a ki blast. Something rung hollow about destruction when it was permitted. “I’ll be back to sort all of this out. If this turns out to be a trap, I’ll reduce this building to rubble and flames.”
“You won’t need to. It’s not a trap. Enjoy your trip!” Godfrey Rolsin, the robotic doppelganger at least, gave the changeling prince a wave as Koola floated through the shattered window and towards his goal.