12-07-2014, 06:11 AM
"'Impact', huh?" The name referred to the shop of that militant man Snow had met just yesterday; Hammer was his name, and it appeared business was his game.
There were a number of reasons, however diminutive, that Snow had decided to come here. Firstly, 'Hammer' was one of the few individuals the l'Cie decided he trusted right now. Secondly, and more importantly, the fact that the man had set up a shop meant he might know a bit more about this area, and perhaps even the Omniverse in general. (Asking Commander Video about any of that yielded nothing more than Snow already knew, so maybe someone who had been here longer would have more to offer.) Thirdly, the shop itself might actually be a good place to get himself equipped with anything.
Snow took in the sights as soon as he first stepped into the shop. It was something modest, to be sure; there was hardwood flooring, beige-painted walls, and little else besides a couple of wall-mounted racks and shelves. The lone longwise counter housed display cases for both miscellaneous trinkets and newspapers, and behind the counter itself was a door to the back room. There was a hushed T.V. in a top corner of the interior, softly playing out some random program on a channel Snow knew nothing of.
After a few steps and the close of the front door, Hammer revealed himself from the crouched position he had been taking moments before under the counter. "Heya, what can I help ya with- Oh, it's you again!" The shopkeeper cut into exclamation as soon as he recognized Snow. He held his arms out wide with a pleased grin on his face, as if he wanted to hug the younger man. "So ya came, good, good. Like I said, anything I can help ya with?"
"Yeah..." Snow trialed off for a slight moment, pondering his first questions. "You think you can help me out with this 'Omniverse' business? There's a lot I should know about, from what I've seen so far."
Hammer folded his arms, his grin shifting to one of a deal just made. "Lucky for you, info is always free. There's plenty to go over, so why don't I start from where you started..."
As Snow came to lean on the counter, Hammer went over the core aspects of the Omniverse. There was the eight different Verses, all connected by the Nexus: where Snow woke up, and where he would return if he ever died for any reason. He went on to explain each of the Verses' appearances in a nutshell, and what Snow should expect out of them. The shopkeeper went on to include some of what he knew about the Dataverse, the existent incarnation of Internet throughout the worlds: in particular, it was where Hammer got most of his information. "I could make a good informant, I think. I keep up with a lot of the news."
"You don't say," Snow mused aloud. Stereotypically and literally, he had reserved that tendency for bartenders, those who most often heard the rumors and stories of the cast at their stools. He even flashed back to NORA's 'bartender', Lebleau, but for some reason, Snow was having a hard time remembering things. Had he hit his head a little too hard? Probably not too far off.
Absentmindedly, Snow looked around and mumbled out, "You ever considered making this into a bar?" Realizing that he had actually spoken, he tacked on, "I mean, you got lots of empty space here, and in a place like this, drinks'd be a good business. You'd make a good barkeep, even."
Though Snow hoped he hadn't offended Hammer at all, the older man actually sighed out a bit in disdain, looking around the lack of furnishing himself. "I would, if I could. A supply shop like this gets hardly any visitors, but I can't afford to make anything else right now. Gotta give business to make business, as they used to say." Hammer turned back to Snow, forcing on a brighter look. "But hey, as long as you're here, look around. See if there's something you like."
Though there wasn't too much to look at, Snow did another closer once-over of the shop's interior. On one wall was lined with many different kinds of weapons, from polearms to firearms and many other kinds of arms one could think of. It gave Snow a couple of intent ideas, but nothing he actually considered just yet. The other wall held some differing outfits and clothing, nothing that Snow took much interest in, personally.
Looking back to the counter's displays, Snow glanced at some of the gadgets on display. One of them looked akin to a PDA, a handheld rectangle with a black screen on it, while another may have been one of those earpiece communicators that some Sanctum commanders used. Deciding to find out, Snow asked, "How about those things?"
The militant shopkeeper perked up, pointing attention to the devices Snow had pointed out. "Ah, I think you'll like those. This one-" Hammer picked out the rectangular object, "-is what we call a Mobile Dataverse Device. Lets you connect to the Dataverse anywhere, anytime. Super handy." Placing that down on the counter, he pulled out the other device. "This simple thing is an example of a Communicator. With it, you can directly contact anyone else who has one, but you first have to sync the devices directly or with a connection over the MDD.
"As for prices," Hammer continued, looking a tad challenged as how to explain the next part, "Well, directly we use Omnilium, but its hard to exactly measure the value." The broad man shrugged a bit. "Easiest way to think of it is just plain numbers. For example: These two things together would cost 300 OM."
Snow blinked, a bit incredulous at the idea. "...How am I supposed to know how much is '300'?"
"Just start gathering it up. You'll know when it's enough," Hammer explained, almost passively. There really was no good way to explain it in words; you just had to 'know'.
With a mote of hesitation, Snow concentrated on producing the amount of Omnilium for those two items. Several minutes flew by as he held his focus in hand, trying to imagine whatever value was necessary. As soon as he felt it completed, Snow opened the eyes he had unconsciously closed, and witnessed the Omnilium twist and meld itself into each of the two gadgets Snow had imagined.
"Er, woah, wait-" Snow stammered for a moment, trying to explain himself for what he thought was an accident. "I wasn't trying to make these items myself, I just-"
"Yeah, that's the thing," Hammer interrupted before Snow dug himself too deep with otherwise pointless excuses. "See, OM is just value. Here, value is relative: anything is made of OM, so everything is valuable, just in different ways. A Prime, like you, creates value for themselves just by doing things. A Secondary, like me, has to get value manually. Ultimately, I exist just to give people like you value," the shopkeeper explained.
Seeing the yet-confused look on Snow's face, he continued, "Let me put it this way - you want Omnilium, right? If I can do something for you, I can give you OM. That means anything, from providing you with an item to just telling you things. Because you are interacting with me, you generate value even if you use up any of it. The trick is, though, a Prime can never lose value. no matter how much Omnilium you think you're using, you always have that 'value'."
Hammer shrugged again. "It's very, very confusing, I know, but it's a bit harder to get used to. Essentially, no matter how much you 'pay', you are always being 'funded'."
At this point, Snow had given up on trying to immediately wrap his head around the entire concept, and equipped himself with the gadgets he had just formed. Booting up the Dataverse Device yielded a few short prompts that connected and identified the device to the Dataverse. Fiddling around, Snow saw that there really was a majority of the Dataverse at his fingertips, able to access news and forums with ease. This thing was amazing!
The l'Cie flipped to a random news station, and was immediately blasted with off-volume conversation. When Snow quickly adjusted it to a more reasonable volume, he was in the midst of a recorded report, "-In an unprecedented act, fliers for a tournament have been posted all over the 8 main verses and announcements made in the Dataverse at the same time."
"Oh," Hammer groaned a bit, rolling his eyes. "They're talking about that."
"What?" Snow asked impulsively, only to be answered by the news report.
There was an image of a certain flyer onscreen, edited next to a studio voice-over: "Little is known about the cult of the Nidhogg, but considering this amazing achievement, it should be taken seriously."
"Hold up-" The l'Cie spouted, almost in actual response to the reporter, "A cult? Like, complete with insane rituals and freakish ideals?"
"Yep," Hammer replied, wearing a much more stern and annoyed guise on his face. "They've somehow dumped flyers everywhere for that weird tournament they're holding. The winner gets to be eaten alive by the giant worm, and the loser gets the shame of not dying as such." It was quite clear that, like most other sensible people might, Hammer held more than a couple poor views of the idea.
After a greater moment of being stupefied, Snow blurted out, "What dumb kind of a tournament is that!? The loser dies to the winner, and the winner dies for worship of a freakish worm!? Who would ever compete for that?"
"Nobody with a right mind," the shopkeeper promptly responded, crossing his arms again. With a couple of sudden, concerned glances outside, Hammer leaned in closer, "You didn't hear this from me... But rumor would have it that the cult's kidnapping people, forcing them to play in the tournament, and the flyers are just a lure for 'better sacrifices'."
Snow was in absolute shock. It was bad enough that some of the Verses were in poor health, but this cult was trying to bring them all down to their level? In an impulsive decision, Snow pounded a fist down and declared, "Someone has to stop them!"
Hammer looked back at Snow directly, noting the burst of confidence in his eyes. "Higher-ups have already got a couple of professional Primes on the case." After a short delay, he curtly added to Snow, "Why, are you looking to go?"
It took a moment to fully decide, but Snow did nod. "Yeah. I'm not gonna stand by while some wicked cult is marching innocent people to feed their fiendish pet! I'm gonna put a stop to it, any way I can!"
The ex-soldier couldn't help but chuckle a bit. The young man really did remind him of Soma; same age, similar styles, and that telltale determination, but far more headstrong. "Not alone, I hope. Here, give me a moment," Hammer said, motioning to Snow's communicator, morphed in the shape of a cellphone. He pulled an old-fashioned walkie-talkie from his belt, and with a few presses and bit of waiting, connected the devices.
"If you're ever looking for info-" Hammer explained, waving the walkie-talkie, "-just call me and I'll be happy to help. With what you're running into, I think you'll need it."
Snow took a hold of the cellphone for a moment, absorbing the idea of having Hammer as a contact. While the l'Cie did have an MDD for himself, the shopkeeper probably had a far greater understanding not just of recent knowabouts, but how and where to tap into such sources. Finally, Snow nodded in recognition, simply nodding, "Thanks."
Within minutes, Snow was riding off on a new 'cycle to the Gate on Costa del Sol leading to the Nexus. His next stop: The Pale Moors, a retching realm of the Dark Ages and their supernatural depictions, and the apparent locale for the tournament in worship of the Nidhogg.
There were a number of reasons, however diminutive, that Snow had decided to come here. Firstly, 'Hammer' was one of the few individuals the l'Cie decided he trusted right now. Secondly, and more importantly, the fact that the man had set up a shop meant he might know a bit more about this area, and perhaps even the Omniverse in general. (Asking Commander Video about any of that yielded nothing more than Snow already knew, so maybe someone who had been here longer would have more to offer.) Thirdly, the shop itself might actually be a good place to get himself equipped with anything.
Snow took in the sights as soon as he first stepped into the shop. It was something modest, to be sure; there was hardwood flooring, beige-painted walls, and little else besides a couple of wall-mounted racks and shelves. The lone longwise counter housed display cases for both miscellaneous trinkets and newspapers, and behind the counter itself was a door to the back room. There was a hushed T.V. in a top corner of the interior, softly playing out some random program on a channel Snow knew nothing of.
After a few steps and the close of the front door, Hammer revealed himself from the crouched position he had been taking moments before under the counter. "Heya, what can I help ya with- Oh, it's you again!" The shopkeeper cut into exclamation as soon as he recognized Snow. He held his arms out wide with a pleased grin on his face, as if he wanted to hug the younger man. "So ya came, good, good. Like I said, anything I can help ya with?"
"Yeah..." Snow trialed off for a slight moment, pondering his first questions. "You think you can help me out with this 'Omniverse' business? There's a lot I should know about, from what I've seen so far."
Hammer folded his arms, his grin shifting to one of a deal just made. "Lucky for you, info is always free. There's plenty to go over, so why don't I start from where you started..."
As Snow came to lean on the counter, Hammer went over the core aspects of the Omniverse. There was the eight different Verses, all connected by the Nexus: where Snow woke up, and where he would return if he ever died for any reason. He went on to explain each of the Verses' appearances in a nutshell, and what Snow should expect out of them. The shopkeeper went on to include some of what he knew about the Dataverse, the existent incarnation of Internet throughout the worlds: in particular, it was where Hammer got most of his information. "I could make a good informant, I think. I keep up with a lot of the news."
"You don't say," Snow mused aloud. Stereotypically and literally, he had reserved that tendency for bartenders, those who most often heard the rumors and stories of the cast at their stools. He even flashed back to NORA's 'bartender', Lebleau, but for some reason, Snow was having a hard time remembering things. Had he hit his head a little too hard? Probably not too far off.
Absentmindedly, Snow looked around and mumbled out, "You ever considered making this into a bar?" Realizing that he had actually spoken, he tacked on, "I mean, you got lots of empty space here, and in a place like this, drinks'd be a good business. You'd make a good barkeep, even."
Though Snow hoped he hadn't offended Hammer at all, the older man actually sighed out a bit in disdain, looking around the lack of furnishing himself. "I would, if I could. A supply shop like this gets hardly any visitors, but I can't afford to make anything else right now. Gotta give business to make business, as they used to say." Hammer turned back to Snow, forcing on a brighter look. "But hey, as long as you're here, look around. See if there's something you like."
Though there wasn't too much to look at, Snow did another closer once-over of the shop's interior. On one wall was lined with many different kinds of weapons, from polearms to firearms and many other kinds of arms one could think of. It gave Snow a couple of intent ideas, but nothing he actually considered just yet. The other wall held some differing outfits and clothing, nothing that Snow took much interest in, personally.
Looking back to the counter's displays, Snow glanced at some of the gadgets on display. One of them looked akin to a PDA, a handheld rectangle with a black screen on it, while another may have been one of those earpiece communicators that some Sanctum commanders used. Deciding to find out, Snow asked, "How about those things?"
The militant shopkeeper perked up, pointing attention to the devices Snow had pointed out. "Ah, I think you'll like those. This one-" Hammer picked out the rectangular object, "-is what we call a Mobile Dataverse Device. Lets you connect to the Dataverse anywhere, anytime. Super handy." Placing that down on the counter, he pulled out the other device. "This simple thing is an example of a Communicator. With it, you can directly contact anyone else who has one, but you first have to sync the devices directly or with a connection over the MDD.
"As for prices," Hammer continued, looking a tad challenged as how to explain the next part, "Well, directly we use Omnilium, but its hard to exactly measure the value." The broad man shrugged a bit. "Easiest way to think of it is just plain numbers. For example: These two things together would cost 300 OM."
Snow blinked, a bit incredulous at the idea. "...How am I supposed to know how much is '300'?"
"Just start gathering it up. You'll know when it's enough," Hammer explained, almost passively. There really was no good way to explain it in words; you just had to 'know'.
With a mote of hesitation, Snow concentrated on producing the amount of Omnilium for those two items. Several minutes flew by as he held his focus in hand, trying to imagine whatever value was necessary. As soon as he felt it completed, Snow opened the eyes he had unconsciously closed, and witnessed the Omnilium twist and meld itself into each of the two gadgets Snow had imagined.
"Er, woah, wait-" Snow stammered for a moment, trying to explain himself for what he thought was an accident. "I wasn't trying to make these items myself, I just-"
"Yeah, that's the thing," Hammer interrupted before Snow dug himself too deep with otherwise pointless excuses. "See, OM is just value. Here, value is relative: anything is made of OM, so everything is valuable, just in different ways. A Prime, like you, creates value for themselves just by doing things. A Secondary, like me, has to get value manually. Ultimately, I exist just to give people like you value," the shopkeeper explained.
Seeing the yet-confused look on Snow's face, he continued, "Let me put it this way - you want Omnilium, right? If I can do something for you, I can give you OM. That means anything, from providing you with an item to just telling you things. Because you are interacting with me, you generate value even if you use up any of it. The trick is, though, a Prime can never lose value. no matter how much Omnilium you think you're using, you always have that 'value'."
Hammer shrugged again. "It's very, very confusing, I know, but it's a bit harder to get used to. Essentially, no matter how much you 'pay', you are always being 'funded'."
At this point, Snow had given up on trying to immediately wrap his head around the entire concept, and equipped himself with the gadgets he had just formed. Booting up the Dataverse Device yielded a few short prompts that connected and identified the device to the Dataverse. Fiddling around, Snow saw that there really was a majority of the Dataverse at his fingertips, able to access news and forums with ease. This thing was amazing!
The l'Cie flipped to a random news station, and was immediately blasted with off-volume conversation. When Snow quickly adjusted it to a more reasonable volume, he was in the midst of a recorded report, "-In an unprecedented act, fliers for a tournament have been posted all over the 8 main verses and announcements made in the Dataverse at the same time."
"Oh," Hammer groaned a bit, rolling his eyes. "They're talking about that."
"What?" Snow asked impulsively, only to be answered by the news report.
There was an image of a certain flyer onscreen, edited next to a studio voice-over: "Little is known about the cult of the Nidhogg, but considering this amazing achievement, it should be taken seriously."
"Hold up-" The l'Cie spouted, almost in actual response to the reporter, "A cult? Like, complete with insane rituals and freakish ideals?"
"Yep," Hammer replied, wearing a much more stern and annoyed guise on his face. "They've somehow dumped flyers everywhere for that weird tournament they're holding. The winner gets to be eaten alive by the giant worm, and the loser gets the shame of not dying as such." It was quite clear that, like most other sensible people might, Hammer held more than a couple poor views of the idea.
After a greater moment of being stupefied, Snow blurted out, "What dumb kind of a tournament is that!? The loser dies to the winner, and the winner dies for worship of a freakish worm!? Who would ever compete for that?"
"Nobody with a right mind," the shopkeeper promptly responded, crossing his arms again. With a couple of sudden, concerned glances outside, Hammer leaned in closer, "You didn't hear this from me... But rumor would have it that the cult's kidnapping people, forcing them to play in the tournament, and the flyers are just a lure for 'better sacrifices'."
Snow was in absolute shock. It was bad enough that some of the Verses were in poor health, but this cult was trying to bring them all down to their level? In an impulsive decision, Snow pounded a fist down and declared, "Someone has to stop them!"
Hammer looked back at Snow directly, noting the burst of confidence in his eyes. "Higher-ups have already got a couple of professional Primes on the case." After a short delay, he curtly added to Snow, "Why, are you looking to go?"
It took a moment to fully decide, but Snow did nod. "Yeah. I'm not gonna stand by while some wicked cult is marching innocent people to feed their fiendish pet! I'm gonna put a stop to it, any way I can!"
The ex-soldier couldn't help but chuckle a bit. The young man really did remind him of Soma; same age, similar styles, and that telltale determination, but far more headstrong. "Not alone, I hope. Here, give me a moment," Hammer said, motioning to Snow's communicator, morphed in the shape of a cellphone. He pulled an old-fashioned walkie-talkie from his belt, and with a few presses and bit of waiting, connected the devices.
"If you're ever looking for info-" Hammer explained, waving the walkie-talkie, "-just call me and I'll be happy to help. With what you're running into, I think you'll need it."
Snow took a hold of the cellphone for a moment, absorbing the idea of having Hammer as a contact. While the l'Cie did have an MDD for himself, the shopkeeper probably had a far greater understanding not just of recent knowabouts, but how and where to tap into such sources. Finally, Snow nodded in recognition, simply nodding, "Thanks."
Within minutes, Snow was riding off on a new 'cycle to the Gate on Costa del Sol leading to the Nexus. His next stop: The Pale Moors, a retching realm of the Dark Ages and their supernatural depictions, and the apparent locale for the tournament in worship of the Nidhogg.