(Preshow) Staging Area

[Karl Jak]

This includes all of the areas listed in the information thread.

http://omniverse-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=5833

[The Vision]

As the unstable quantum energy stabilized, the Vision brushed the residual charge off of his exoskeleton. Before he got a chance to secure his position and scan the environment, a reporter seemed to materialize in front of the Vision.

"Hello Omniverse. I'm Ron Burgundy, with your exclusive first look at this year's DA. Only a few days after the call for help was released, it looks like our first few volunteers are already pouring through the portals. Here comes one now."

The camera turned to the Vision. The reporter smiled and reached his hand. As per Vision's programming, he automatically reached out to shake it. Mr. Burgundy flashed a warm smile.

"What a privilege to meet you, sir."

The Vision smiled back. "Pleasure is all mine."

Ron looked down faux-pensively. The interrogation was now to commence.

"Now, let's start with your name."

"I am called the Vision."

Ron smiled. "And what a vision you are. So, Vis, I don't recall seeing you at a DA event before. Is this your first?"

"Correct."

"Lovely!" Mr. Burgundy flashed an understanding shrug. "Are you nervous?"

> Error: 'nervous' not defined

The Vision paused. "I do not understand the interrogative."

Mr. Burgundy smiled and pat the Vision on the shoulder. "It's quite alright to admit you are nervous, Mr. Vision."

"Correction: Vision is not my last name."

Ron paused, clearly confused. Then, his face lit up. "Ah, of course, of course. I totally understand. Like I say, Mr. Burgundy is my father."

> check-expect lastname()files/RonBurgundy Burgundy
> check-expect gender()files/RonBurgundy "male"
#All tests passed

"I will review THAT error at another time," the Vision calmly reported, "But I will first have to note that 'nervous' has not been defined. If your query is of my nervous system, my body is laced with multiple sensors which simulate a human's nervous system. If-"

"Oh!" Ron interrupted, "So you're a robot?"

"Correction: the term is 'synthezoid.'"

"Oh, of course. Forgive me. Robot rights culture is changing so rapidly, I'm having difficulty keeping up with the political correct terms. Now, Vision, if you don't mind me asking, why are you joining now?"

The Vision blinked. "I am here to assist in the rescue. Do I require additional reasons?"

"Yes, but there must be SOMETHING else to drive you here, yes?"

The Vision processed for a moment. "Ah. I am also here to locate my... friends."

"Other synthezoids?"

"Correction: most of them are organic creatures."

"Ah. Well, that's a very noble cause. I'm glad you're here with us, Vision. I hope you find your friends and go far in the event, and I don't think I'm alone there. We're rooting for you."

Vision blinked. "My thanks, Ron."

"That was a synthezoid known as 'the Vision'..."

Vision walked away calmly as the reporters moved to another victim. He seated himself on a nearby chair and took some time processing the strange discussion he just had. Did the other volunteers have ulterior motives?

Perhaps this event was more complex than he initially calculated.

[Okor]

His helm lay upon the transparent table, the corruption slowly seeping from the armour turning the surface opaque. Pallid flesh, stretched taut across angular cheekbones, competed for domination against ebon follicles, a constant war for domination of his face. A claw, coated in contaminants, raised a steaming cylinder to blackened lips, shattered shards of teeth lurking behind them, riddled with cracks and cavities, to mention nothing of the parasites. The serf manning the recaf dispenser had given him only the briefest of looks before scurrying off to acquire his order.

Chemicals spat from the noxious brew clutched in his grasp, the liquid sizzling against his skin as it began to burn through, melting through leathery flesh. The potent brew of stimulants he even now tipped towards the black abyss of his maw was never intended for mere mortals. Mankind’s greatest minds had forged the likes of Okor, and its greatest foes had sculpted him into something more.

And all it took was a lapse of discipline, a painfully pathetic firefight in a chemical plant, and half-remembered recipes from a homeworld cloaked in toxic fog to create something that could perfect it.

Frenzon. Stimm. Onslaught. Spur. A thousand other lesser variations of these mind-ruining incitations to slaughter passed his lips, the chemical sludge slowly melting its way down his throat, every second bringing more ruin as the decidedly lethal brew entered his bloodstream. A warning flashed from his abandoned helmet, his armour registering the change within his bodily systems, desperately attempting to warn him off of his course of action.

With the corrosive liquid now sizzling through his throat, he tumped the thermos onto the table, its continued integrity speaking volumes to its construction. The seat creaked and cracked as he rested his weight against it, the constant hum of the atomic fire that powered his warplate silencing his quiet sigh.

His hearts stopped beating, frozen in shock by the overdose of stimulants, barely spasming before they were overtaken by the lethal amount of toxins within his blood. For the briefest of moments, he remained rigid, untold centuries of rigor mortis setting in.

And then, it kicked in. His twinned hearts whipped themselves into a frenzy, sending the venomous vitae coursing through every centimeter of his corroded circulatory system. Hands clenched as the muscles received their dose, almost tearing themselves off the bone as they rejoiced in the moment of life they had been gifted. His eye twitched, the infectious mass of gelatinous tissue briefly scouring his surroundings for things he had so long repressed: Wine, women, words, the unknown pleasures of cooked meat. He could get up right now, break through the glass, tear off his armour, and prance through the meadow forever, feeling every gust of the wind, tasting every particle of pollen adrift on the breeze. He was ali-

The numbness seeped back in. Extremities once alight with sensation died, the familiar feeling of nothingness propagating through his being. The madness of the living abandoned him, his cells returning to their half-functioning state of normalcy. His face warped into an expression of pain for a moment, coughing up a bloody gobbet of lung tissue and lethal combat stimulants.

There were things to be said for living, to be sure. But those days were past him.

He resettled his weight, pulling the rusted mass of his bolter to the table, running his hands along its corroded mass. He pulled the magazine from its feed, carefully inspecting every irradiated shell, gazing upon the devotional etches and taunts scratched onto the explosive tips.

But now, he was but another corpse on the battlefield.

[Carmelita]

The change from the heat of the desert to the cool of what looked like an air conditioned airport lounge was a relief to Carmelita. Looking down at the ticket she had been given with a seat number on it, she considered that to be a not inconsiderate analogy.

Ahead of her, a human in a rather impressively maroon jacket stood with a news crew, scanning the crowd that flowed in and out through the portal behind her. Sensing an interview with trepidation, Carmelita smoothed her features into the standard police procedure for public statements.

“You there! The vixen with the blue hair! Are you participating in the expedition that Karl Jak is assembling? Excellent, this way, sir here she is.”

The man she had been ushered towards without getting a word in edgeways raised an eyebrow in her direction before he turned to the camera and put on a practiced smile.

“Hello, Ron Burgandy with another interview with a volunteer going on Mr Karl Jak’s rescue expedition. I am here with…”

He turned to Carmelita expectantly. This was the first proper media coverage she had participated in in the Omniverse and she was quick to introduce herself.

“Inspector Carmelita Fox-Cooper.”

“Great to meet you, Inspector. Now, going into this can I ask you what motivated you to come here today?”

“I am a person dedicated to the protection of the people. Upon being told that a rescue expedition was being mounted, and that I had been requested to join it, how could I refuse?”

“I see. Do you have any idea what might have happened to the original expedition?”

“I have not yet been properly briefed on the situation, and am not the leader of the expedition. Unfortunately, I must decline to comment.”

“Right then. One last question, you seem to be very focused on the situation. Do you have any words you’d like to say before we finish?”

“The situation seems to be under control and we hope to sort this out shortly.”

With a frown, the interview finished. Carmelita looked over her shoulder at the man before heading down the hallway.

Two likely candidates for fellow primes were visible in the cafe to her right. One was a brightly coloured humanoid and the other looked like death cooked in armour, and she took a moment to glance at both of them before heading over to the counter to purchase a coffee. She always needed a boost before long flights...

[Marcus Wright]

The desert heat at times made Marcus’s skin percolate with sweat as he wiped off drips coming from the skin on his face.. He didn’t need to eat or drink in the desert, but the machine man kept it on even though he was covered in visible sweat.

Coming inside was a welcome change when he noticed several folks and also a fancy looking man with a suit, appearing to be interviewing a… fox ? He shook his head, it’s not like this was anything new.

The former ex-killer held a few things inside the trench coat as the fancy man in the coat came over to Marcus sticking a microphone uncomfortably close to the man’s face.

“HEY! My name is Ron Burgundy.. I’m with the Omniverse News network… I appear to be with a man who is participating in this expedition that our dear Karl Jak is planning..

Marcus was sort of annoyed since the microphone was in his face and soon he was going to be all over live tv.

“So stranger…. Who are you?”

….

…. Isn’t a name

Well If you insist and could stop sticking that damn microphone in my face, My name is Marcus…

Marcus Wright..

Ron Burgundy blinked and spoke up again, sweat dropping “So there you have it, folks, we have yet another prime on air for all to see.

He straightened his trench coat and moved over to the vendors… He noticed a cheesy little bobblehead of him with his head moving around and shook it.

“Is this some damn JOKE?”

The vendor smiled “Er.. No.. No sir… it’s a collectable of you for being in the expedition!”

[Hiro Protagonist]

Hiro had ported into the lobby still posed with a thumb outstretched towards the front of the platform, so he was not overtly concerned when several flashes went off in front of him. His goggles almost immediately adjusted for the glare and refiltered the incoming light as he brought his arm down and stepped off the platform. 

A few yards away, and past the small group of photographers who'd taken his picture, was a man in a dark red suit with perfectly combed hair and a mustache you could bounce a penny off of. The hacker made his way off the entry pad to clear the way, seeing the incandescent markers on his HUD that indicated a transmission. The man in the suit was....broadcasting.

"And that was another one of these fine prospective rescuers, viewers. Here's hoping they're not all that scrawny, ha ha!" He lowered the microphone in his left hand, only to raise a glass filled with ice cubes and brown liquid to his mouth with his right. "Ah, I love my job. Oh! Here comes a new contestant- I mean, noble soul!" The man stifled a snicker as Hiro walked up to him.

"Hello, I'm Ron Burgundy, with the Omniverse News Network, care to tell us a little bit about yourself?"

Hiro grinned, his eyes concealed behind his reflective technogoggles, leather kimono jacket hanging loosely at his sides. "Sure, why not. I'm Hiro Protagonist. Greatest Swordsman in the world and the last of the freelance hackers."

Ron raised an eyebrow at the camera and gave a big, showy wink. "Oooh, a hacker he says! That might give him an edge over our bleepy bloopy friend from earlier....i'm being gestured at frantically by my producer. Excuse my ignorance of politically correct terms." He turned to Hiro again and lofted another easy question at him. "So, why did you sign up for this year's Danteverse event? Even though it's apparently just a simple search and rescue?"

The hacker adjusted the katana on his hip before he answered. "Figured it'd be a good way to get some exposure. I offer a wide variety of services, both digital and wetwork related. Also, I figure that assisting the lauded Mr. Jak might be a good idea. I hear Syntech makes some pretty good stuff."

Ron took another swing from his glass and nodded. "Well, sounds like a good idea. And you might want to talk to a fashion designer, your outfit looks like the toast of the Dataverse, if I say so myself!" He jingled his empty glass of ice cubes before waving Hiro off with a friendly shrug. "More scotch, please!"

The Beginning of an Unknown Challenge....Tastefully Furnished

Now he could get down to business. There were going to be Primes here, a lot of Primes he'd never met. They were all ostensibly going to "allies" in this rescue endeavor, but it was really little more than a sham. Hiro knew there was something else going on, especially when it came to the Danteverse. Still, he'd come here, and not entirely because he was assigned by the EPD.

The hacker samurai made a few subtle gestures in the air with his gloves, and his goggles kicked into high scan mode. Environmental information cascaded down the transparent lenses, visible only to him as he left the lobby. He headed west towards what looked like a patio.

Entering the glass double doors, Hiro found himself in a quaint little cafe, stocked with plenty of rickety chairs and dainty tables....and some patrons. A-ha.

He took up a position near the entrance, out of the way in a corner of the room and began to work. The first target he focused on was a medium height fox creature with blue hair. She was noticeably feminine, and Hiro spent a few moments trying to remember if he knew her, before his HUD gave him a readout.

PRIME: CARMELITA FOX-COOPER
THREAT LEVEL: NORMAL
WEAPONS: SHOCK BASED FIREARMS, RESTRAINT DEVICE
DISPOSITION: POSSIBLY CORDIAL

Ah ha. So he did know her. It was the prospective policewoman he'd done the dataverse job for. It was good he'd gotten it taken care of, especially pro bono she might return the favor...

WARNING. WARNING. EXTREME BIOLOGICAL CONTAMINANT DETECTED.

Hiro's eyes widened as he followed the proximity indicator and his gaze settled upon a rusted hulk of metal with a misshaped head sticking out of the top. Slightly fascinated at just how corroded the thing was, his stomach plummeted went his goggles spit the readout at him once more.

PRIME: OKOR PALEBLOOD (EPD ACTIVE BOUNTY)
THREAT LEVEL: HOLY SHIT
WEAPONS: EXPLOSIVE SLUG WEAPONS, BLADES, HANDS, EXPLOSIVE PROJECTILES, NUMEROUS VIRAL INFECTIONS (NO KNOWN COUNTERAGENTS)
DISPOSITION: DO NOT APPROACH

The hacker wiped his brow slightly and sauntered over to the barista leaning over and speaking in a low tone. "Give me an irish coffee. Heavy on the irish."

The woman nodded and began bustling around behind the counter. Well....that was probably one bounty that wouldn't get collected. Jesus. What kind of motive did a guy like that have for being here? To rescue someone? Hiro called bullshit.

Finally, there was one final contestant, a multicolored man with reddish purple skin and a shiny spandex outfit. Almost as a reflex, and maybe to take his mind off of Okor, Hiro logged another scan.

PRIME: THE VISION
THREAT LEVEL: THAT IS QUITE RUDE, SIR.
WEAPONS: QUERY: WHY DO YOU WANT TO KNOW?
DISPOSITION: USUALLY GENIAL. WHY DO YOU NOT TALK TO ME IN PERSON?

Hiro blinked at the readout and tapped his glasses. Maaaaaybe he should just have that drink first. And what luck, it had just arrived. He picked up the mug and drank pensively, one fingertip stroking the length of his katana hilt.

[Amaterasu]

A portal through which anyone who cared enough to look could see a crowd, the Syntech tables and employees and enough sand to tell that those were the Endless Dunes, opened up in the Lobby entrance and let Fiara cross in to the hall. Her clothing and hair was full of sand from the verse she came from, and she was well aware of this. So, the first person whom she caught that she could tell was a Syntech employee she stepped in the way of and spoke. "Oi! Any way to get a bath around here?"

"Uh, you should've been given a card with a number, Miss. Over there are the private rooms, you can enter the room with your number. There will be private showers there."

"A'right, thanks." She didn't ask what showers were, presuming that it was some modern word for bathtub or such. Ron was busy interviewing Hiro when she passed through, and missed her entirely. Arriving at her room she opened it up using the card, after a bit of fiddling before figuring out how it worked, and took in the room around her before closing the door behind herself. She wasn't acquainted with modern technology, but she was a quick learner, and a little dabbling with the room that she considered as looking sanitary enough to be a bath she found out how to "make rain fall from the ceiling", which happened to be the ceiling-installed shower that every room offered.

Twenty minutes later, she had showered, removed the worst of the sand from her clothes, gotten dressed again and headed back to the lobby area. This time there was nobody currently being held "hostage" by the interview team, and Ron Burgundy soon approached her with a bright smile.

"Hello, Miss! I'm Ron Burgundy with the Omniverse News Network. Would you spare us a few minutes of your time so you can tell the world a bit about yourself?"

"Uh, sure, but tell your friend there to stop aiming his huge gun at us."

"Gun? What do you... oh." His smile dropped and he turned to the cameraman. "Cut. Give us a minute... Miss, that is a camera. We would never attempt to harm you."

"A camera? I'm not sure what that is..."

"This might take a while..."

It was a good thing that Ron and the team were familiar with not so tech savvy Omniverse inhabitants, and that Fiara was a fast learner. She rapidly understood what a camera was, how it functioned, why they wanted to ask her questions and who would see it. The live-feed watchers would probably just see some advertisements in the meantime. Ten minutes or so later, Ron nodded, stepped away from Fiara, and nodded to the Cameraman who turned the "huge gun" back on.

"Dear spectators, we apologize for the technical difficulties, but are now live again! This is Ron Burgundy, speaking live from the Lobby in Dante's Abyss, and I am joined today by..." He held his microphone out and behind his fake smile Fiara could see the figurative beads of sweat. But, she was ready.

"... Fiara Moegami. Hi there!" She put on a similarly fake smile, smiling at Ron and at the camera.

"Moegami? Oh my, this year's participants appear to have quite the diverse background! So! Miss Moegami... tell us about yourself, how come you have followed Mr. Jak's invitation and joined us for this mission?"

"I'm actually looking for a friend of mine, and came to look here. But I'm happy to help while I'm at it."

"Oh? We're terribly sorry to hear that! Are they one of the ones that have gone missing?"

"I don't know. But, I'm pretty sure that if she's not, she's one of the ones that are signing up for this."

"I see. Well, I'm certain that our spectators are rooting for you. And who knows, she might be watching us right now, and contact you when you return! Anything else you would like to say to our spectators?"

"I hope this is fun."

"Oh, what a fearless participant we have this year! Well everyone, this has been Miss Fiara Moegami!" The interview finished and Ron waved her away with a big smile. Fiara looked around then headed over to the place where most of the participants seemed to be gathered. The "diverse background" that Ron had mentioned became clearer to her now. Some sort of weird... red man in a green and yellow suit, for a start? Must be from overseas, for what she remembered they had no red-skinned people in Japan... but her parent had told her something along those lines, that in some faraway country people had reddish skin.
Then, another two men, one which had... odd. He seemed japanese, but his skin was too dark. The other one was definitely from the west. Neither kept her attention for very long.
When her eyes fell on the next participant, she first wondered if someone had dumped a mannequin in the room after leaving it in a pestilent waste disposal site, but then saw that it was moving. What in the actual... was this a Plaguelord? One of Ekibiogami's servants? The flames flared up around her wrists before she gritted her teeth and regained control. She was but a young kami, a Plaguelord would undoubtedly destroy her. She had to focus on the task at hand. Amaterasu.
The last one was who attracted her attention the most, and she nearly rushed over. "Ammy! Hey!" she yelled, probably attracting the attention of everyone in the room. But when Carmelita turned around she stopped in her tracks and the flames around her wrist disappeared as her enthusiasm found a sudden end. "Uh, sorry. Mistook you for someone." She bowed deep, something that she didn't like doing, but hey - better be a bit polite around here. The one she had seen was a fox, not a wolf, and she lacked just about all the other characteristic features of Amaterasu. On second thought, she thought she could have realized already when the woman had her back turned to her. Ammy wouldn't wear clothes like those, and her hair wouldn't be blue! And her tail wouldn't be orange! She felt like banging her head against a wall or something, but nah. Better mingle a bit first. Some of them had drinks... maybe she could just get one? She approached the counter to wait after the fox, and read the menu written in those weird western symbols that they called Alphabet. Good thing she had learned to read them. "Could I get some roasted green tea?"

Translations:

Ekibiogami: God of Plagues and other epidemics in the Shinto religion.
Kami: God, Goddess.

[Marcus Wright]

After nearly almost disfiguring a bobble head that looked like him, Marcus realized he had to calm down. His “fake” eyes moved toward the one named Ron Burgundy and after eying the crowd and literally pushing his way through, he noticed one very familiar man and the guy who he talked to earlier..

After standing a short distance from the man, he listened to the conversation catching parts like “Scrawny man...last time..”

His main thoughts had to do something of “Scrawny, You try being a man turned machine who doesn’t eat in the middle of a nuclear war…”

But in the end, did it really matter who insulted who? Was this all a elaborate set up?

In the end, this time, maybe it wasn’t Skynet’s fault that this happened.

He could curse the supercomputer all day long but he chose to enter on his own accord.

Maybe he could pass off as a human this time.

He walked into the mini cafe, and sat at the very back table studying the others in the room, once again he noticed the dreadlocked man, A .. talking fox in a outfit… He could be wrong about that, but then again…

A walking armored man who if he could smell, he could smell a putrid, rotting smell from a mile away.

“Shit..”

He muttered.

[Marisa Kirisame]

As Chara walked through the portal she saw herself in a hall and then she looked down at this ticket she got, "Well I guess, I better.." then she was interrupted by a man who had someone with a camera.

The man then said

"Hello, i'm Ron Burgundy from ONN and i'm here with another Prime, hello what is your name?"

Chara looked at Ron then back at the camera man then decided that she didn't want to blow her cover  so she answered
 "My name is Chara or you can call me the Fallen human, The first human" Ron looked at her and said "Wow and your just a child, do you think you can survive the challenge you are tasked with"? and Chara just shrugged at the question "Well I will say one thing, I don't mess around with people who think they can mess with me, and they think they can not get out without scars.

Ron looked at her with interest then said,

"Ok, next question, why are you hear and for what purpose, because everyone has a reason to be here" he waited for her response.

"Well i'm here to regain my honor since I came here not to long ago, but I will try to see my family and save them".

Ron looked at her with a look that could be called sad and then he said
"Final question, what do you think about other primes helping you"?
She looked at him and said coldly "I don't know and I really feel like this is not something i'm not going to answer". and walked off to see what she can get.

Walking up to vendor she saw a Rucksack and bought it and went to go talk to some of the other primes.

[The Vision]

The Vision continued to run programs in his head when what seemed to be a loud voice spoke in his head.

"Scanning for name..." the voice boomed.

The Vision glanced around to see if anyone had spoken. None were found. The Vision postulated The Vision eventually answered, after some thought, "the Vision."

The voice flew out from his head. To a normal human, the sensation would be difficult to explain. Assume that a conscious voice can be quantifiable in terms of matter or energy. Then the sensation was that of one such voice acted upon one's own by Newtonian forces. And in this process, Presumably, the voice carried the results of the inquiry to whoever sent it. So, not a person with superhuman psychic abilities. Perhaps a foreign computer of some sort?

> access FirewallSettings
FirewallSettings found
0010100101110101000010101001110100100000000011101011...

The Vision read them carefully. According to his internal security protocols, the intruder was not hostile, unlike previous hackers like Ultron. He decided to entertain the program for a little while.

The voice returned, floating and pushing its way through into Vision's programming.

"Threat Level?"

Vision frowned. "That is quite rude, sir."

The program departed and the Vision scowled. When it returned, he was not in a better mood.

"Weapons?"

Vision scowled. Though it may not be hostile, the program certainly was not friendly, either.

"Query: Why do you want to know?" the Vision muttered through mentally grit teeth.

The program left. It returned with "Disposition?"

The Vision was about to snap at the program again, but he recomposed himself and answered, "Usually, genial."

Then the Vision smiled as he realized whoever was receiving the information must be very confused.

He added, "Query: Why do you not talk to me in person?"

The Vision smiled as the program left again. This hacker had accidentally granted access to Vision's programming, allowing the synthezoid to be able to review some intel regarding the individual. A man sitting across the room adjusted his technologically enhanced spectacles, then shook his head concernedly. Vision hypothesized this to be his man.

> print()

"That was no computing error. I have simply opened communications with you. While I consider your scans to be somewhat invasive, I would like to meet you, as earlier mentioned..."

The Vision stood up and started walking over to the hacker. He had lowered his density and phased through the floor, allowing him to approach the hacker undetected. When he emerged again, he was seated in his chair. This action solicited a series of body movements, including facial expressions, which Vision recognized as shock. The Vision smiled, and this time, he spoke aloud. 

"...personally."

A waitress, completely nonplussed by Vision's performance, brought a menu over to him. The Vision looked up and smiled warmly.

"Ah, that will not be necessary," he said, "But thank you."

The waitress returned the smile, but as soon as she turned, she muttered just under her breath, "Why do we even let bots into cafes?" The Vision ignored the rude comment and looked at the hacker across from him. 

"Interrogative: Is Hiro Protagonist your birth name?"

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

As more attendants began to filter into the atrium, Nanaki found himself straying to the periphery. He’d never fancied himself a sociable individual, even among his friends back on Gaia. Luckily, his presence was overlooked by the majority of the entrants; being an animal in a world of humans sometimes had its benefits. Though he was often annoyed at his treatment by mankind, he’d count this among the few victories. The pair of portals at the end of the hallway continued to birth entrants as he made his way to the far wall. He spied a few doorways around the area, being careful to keep away these to ensure he went overlooked.

Better savor the anonymity while I can, he thought, taking a seat along the wall. Red was sure that in an event such as this, he’d be forced to meet the other entrants at some point, whether it be during the competition or at some grand ceremony beforehand. God he hoped there were none of those. 

Survey of the area told the burgundy beast that there was some sort of eatery in an adjoining room, as well as what appeared to be a study area or library. Another door seemed to lead outside, or at the very least into somewhere with grass and wildlife (it was hard to tell in the Omniverse). He felt himself immediately drawn to the stream of sunlight and the cool breeze floating through, though he dared not venture through just yet. His desire to remain unnoticed stemmed not only from his shy nature and distaste for humanity as a whole, but from an attempt to remain as indecipherable as possible to anyone who might be sizing him up. Nanaki had heard throughout Coruscant that Dante’s Abyss was a game of survival, but everyone knew that survival in Karl Jak’s backyard entailed murder more often than not. Remaining quiet and solitary was his best option, without a doubt.

The rest of the facility seemed unremarkable; a simple metal door at the far end of the room and a larger roll-up steel door nearby that looked to lead to some kind of storage facility or the like. Perhaps this was where participants were to store their supplies before heading out? It was beginning to dawn on Nanaki that it would have been a good idea to ask a few more questions before jumping straight into the competition. He didn’t really have any idea what he would even be doing--other than not dying, that is. 

Now just where is Vincent…

Red XIII looked over each entrant as they came through, as well as the gathered staff and anyone else who had been in the room since he had arrived, yet the gunslinger was nowhere to be found. He was not exactly shocked by this; after all, with this being a different year and supposedly ‘a little different’ than things were last year, it stood to reason that perhaps the facility was also quite different. He made a mental note to search through some of the rooms in the facility, though he doubted he’s see results. It was getting increasingly more likely that he’d have to ask Karl Jak personally to get any kind of a lead. Sighing, he lowered himself to the cool tiled floor. Despite the excitement, fatigue remained from the slumber from which he had so recently awoken. Maybe he could catch a quick nap before the area filled up entirely.

“Oh shit...” 

Evidently not… Nanaki thought, opening his eyes and gazing up at the source of the expletive. 

The individual stood over him, mouth slightly open. He towered over the fiery feline, standing around six-feet tall. His dark skin was interrupted intermittently by some variety of metal armor over various parts of his body, covering a well-muscled physique. His eyes--one brown, one glowing red--were fixed on Nanaki. 

A long pause hung between the two before Red finally spoke up. “Yes?” he inquired after a moment, somewhat annoyed. 

The being continued to stare for a moment before speaking. “You can talk?” he asked, taking a step toward the canid. He wore an expression closer to interest than shock. 

“I can,” the beast replied, raising himself to a seated position. He felt his annoyance shrink slightly as the individual began to grin.  As much as he disliked smalltalk, it was nice to get a break from the usual disbelief that most people seemed to display. It didn’t hurt either that the man reminded Red XIII strongly of Barret. 

“That’s so cool,” the man said, donning a friendly smile. “I’m Cyborg, by the way.”

The burgundy beast paused for a moment, considering the cybernetic human’s strangely apt name. “Red XIII,” he finally replied, nodding.

[Hiro Protagonist]

Hiro was staring ahead around the cafe when the transmission came in on his goggles. Reading with interest, he lifted his mug to lips and took another sip of the sweet, caffeinated cocktail. And when he brought it down again, the red skinned Prime, Vision, was instantly seated in front of him, finishing the sentence that was currently scrolling across the samurai's HUD. His mouth opened slightly in a quick expression of shock, hand clenching his katana hilt, before he realized a second later the Prime was smiling politely at him. He'd asked a question.

 "Ah..." the hacker took a moment to regain his composure, his tone even and nonthreatening. "The Hiro portion is. Hiroaki, to be complete. The last name I changed. Where I come from it pays to be remembered."

Vision looked him over with curious eyes. "Fascinating. You are of Japanese descent?"

Nodding, Hiro released his sword and relaxed his posture, pulling his goggles up onto his head so Vision could see his full face. "Nipponese, in my world. My mother. My father was African American....you don't seem to be of any nationality I know of."


The costumed Prime held up one finger and it opened up to reveal complex fibre wire entwined within tiny circuits, before closing. "I am an android. Though I emulate the human body, I do not have a 'nationality'." Vision put on a concerned expression, the servos and motors in his face moving naturally to display a veey human visage. "Query: how were you able to access my programming?"

Hiro shrugs with a grin. "I'm a hacker. I can scan targets for information. Comes in handy, and I figure that knowing who i'm gonna be rescuing with would be tactically sound."

The Vision blinked. "May I request something?"
"Yeah?" 

"Please never do that again."

Hiro frowned. "I'm sorry....is it really that much of an invasion of your privacy?"

The android leaned forward. He placed his fingers together and placed his hands against his lips. "A supposition." Pausing to think for a moment. He continued. "Suppose that someone had a superhuman psychic ability, and was able to read your every thought. Suppose that someone could rewrite your thoughts. As I said, I am an android. When I am hacked, I find it... disquieting."

The cyber samurai nodded. "Understood, Vision. I did not understand what it is like on the other end. I will not take such an action again towards you." Inwardly, Hiro was intrigued. He'd assumed that his scanning ability was entirely unobtrusive, but now he realized that in the right circumstance, it could be a viable offensive tactic.

"Thank you, Mr. Protagonist," the Vision flashed a glare at the other contestants. "Query: what is your stance of the Primes around us?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "Hopefully our skillsets will be enough to locate the missing employees, although I am quite suspicious of the true nature of this endeavor." He looked over at Okor. "A man like a fugitive from the Empire's justice, does not strike me as the rescuing type." He paused, before tapping the air and emitting a small holographic display from his lenses. Hiro had practiced enough with his goggles to know where the common command locations were, so he could activate a few functions without actually having his goggles on over his eyes. The hologram displayed three small blocks of information, along with physical representations of their subjects.

"Miss Fox seems like her heart is in the right place, although a bit naive. And Marcus..." He gestured to the man in the trenchcoat. "He is preoccupied with events on his home world. Very angry, that one."

The Vision glanced at the rotting man. "Perhaps we should be wary indeed. I am detecting several contagions within that particular man."

Hiro coughed nervously. "3468, to be exact. And most of them with no known countervirals."

"Affirmative. One wonders why an individual in need of urgent medical care is volunteering to do a rescue. He may do more damage than good in the presence of medically compromised workers." Vision paused. "The public media depicts this event as a competition. Conjecture: this is not just a rescue."

A gloved finger tapped the side of Hiro's head. "Based on past year's events...I'd agree with that conjecture." He finished his coffee and set the empty mug back down on the bar. "Good luck, Vision. I'll see you on the plane. Perhaps we could coordinate upon our arrival to the island."

"That seems logical." The Vision stood up as well. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Protagonist."

Hiro bowed slightly, before turning to leave the cafe and head back to the lobby. It would be a good idea to watch the portals for new Prime arrivals.

[Marisa Kirisame]

"Hmm, well let's see who we can tell that is a prime" as she looked around she saw a man who looked like he could work for the EPD and she just glared at the African American and right as he looked at her she looked away while playing with her knife.

"Lets see who else I can see who else I can meet" as she finally sheathed her knife and walked to the cafe to get something to eat.

[Moon]

What a motley crew of mammals. Mr. Jak seemed to have quite the eccentric interests in saviors.


"Excuse me, but I think a wild animal may have gotten in," a voice said from nearby. Huh, that was weird. Wild? Was said animal going crazy or something? Was it another case of Night Howlers? Just the thought of that instance made Judy's thoughts sour. That almost killed off society, if she remembered properly. 

"Wait. That might be a prime. Excuse me, miss!" the same voice followed up with. The rabbit turned, confusion clear on her features.

"And we're here with yet another volunteer for the rescue expedition. Hi there, my name is Ron Burgundy. Would you mind sparing a moment or two to talk to the people back home?"

Oh, yeah. The media release. She nodded, a slight smile crossing her face. The man behind Mr. Burgundy adjusted the camera so there was a good view of the rabbit. This wasn't an easy task, but it was done.

"So, what's your name?" he asked, starting off with the most basic question he could.

"Judy Hopps, sir. Pleasure to meet you," was her reply. Not much else to say, though she struggled to find more.

"No, no. The pleasure is all mine. Why have you signed up to join this year's Danteverse event?"

"Well, I couldn't just sit back and watch, could I? People are in trouble!" Why else would anyone join? This was a search-and-rescue operation, not a death-match.

"Ah. So, no other motive?" he asked, a small smirk on his face for... whatever reason.


"No, that's about it."

"Right. Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Judy took a minute to think about it, before she nodded.

"Don't worry about the people we lost. We'll find them, and bring them back. Promise."

"Thank you. That was Judy Hopps, ladies and gentlemen, our smallest member of the team. Stay tuned for more interviews and news regarding the expedition."



The rabbit took a second to glance around the cafe she'd found herself in after the interview. There were quite a few mammals here. And she didn't recognize most of them. There was a strange red-skinned one, a seemingly decaying giant (excuse her while she gags), one with odd goggles, one with red fur on the top of their head, a smaller one, and lastly, a strange mammal that seemed to buzz for some reason.

There was, however, one person that looked somewhat like someone she'd know. A vixen of some sort, over by the ordering counter. Familiarity was good, no denying that. But still, something seemed off about her. Added to the fact that she seemed quite heavily armed, she still threw her off as much as the others did. But still, she decided to approach.

"Excuse me, miss," she said, and the woman glanced behind her, before noticing the rabbit below her field of view. 

"Hi there. Mind if I join you?"

[Guilmon]

As Guilmon was teleported to the Danteverse, he felt tingly all over. He was sure if it was the excitement of finding a Tamer, or the feeling of the machine the lit up right before everything went blank. Not just black, but blank. For a few seconds, Guilmon's senses ceased to work. More curious than frightened, Guilmon tilted his head and tried to listen for sounds yet heard nothing. He sniffed the air, yet smelled nothing. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth, and still tasted nothing. He looked down at his arm - rather, where his arm should be - and tried to touch his claws together. Nothing.

Seconds pass and Guilmon saw a faint light beginning to fade into existence. As quickly as the light appeared, Guilmon's senses worked again. Around him, was a room filled nearly to the brim with different types of people. One such person quickly approached Guilmon. His head was topped with smooth, brown hair, which was combed neatly and parted on the left. In the middle of his face lay a bushy mustache that Guilmon thought looked ridiculous. His red suit made him stand out among the crowd, which is probably the same reason that Guilmon himself was noticed by this strange person. "Hello there, Prime! You are a strange creature indeed! What might your name be?" With his questions asked, Ron Burgundy practically shoved his microphone into Guilmon's face.

"Prime? Guilmon is a Prime?" He tilts his head. "So the Fountain was welcoming Guilmon?" Guilmon's face lit up as he made his revelation.

"Aha! So you are Guilmon? Tell me, Guilmon: what manner of beast are you? And what is your purpose for joining Dante's Abyss this time around?"

"Beast? Guilmon is a Digimon! Guilmon came to look for a Tamer! Are you my Tamer, Hairmon?"

"A Digimon!? So Omni has pulled in another digital creature?" He puts his finger to his ear as if listening to someone. Guilmon tilts his head again. Ron turns to the camera. "Oh, I'm sorry, folks. That's all the time I have for Guilmon today! Will this Digital Monster win Dante's Abyss? Or will he fade away into the recesses of our memories? Stay tuned!" As if forgetting Guilmon even existed, Ron runs up to the next person exiting the portals.

"Aw... Did Guilmon scare Hairmon off? Is Guilmon scary?" Guilmon shrugs his shoulders and wanders around the lobby.

To his right, Guilmon saw two large doors made of some kind of wood. He walks over to them and nudges them open. Inside was row upon row of bookshelves. Because Guilmon did not recognize that he was looking into a library, he takes a whiff. He did not smell anything interesting, so he left the library and looked around the lobby again. Across from the wooden doors was another opening in the wall. Although Guilmon had never seen a café before, he could tell right away that it sold food. He could smell the savory food from across the room. How he had not noticed it before was a conundrum.

He zigs and zags his way through the crowd towards the smell of food wafting from across the lobby. Inside, he found more people. Off to the side, there was a green-and-red man with a green-and-yellow cape talking to a man with goggles and frizzy hair. To the other side, there was a large man with armor that made him look like a sick Mekanorimon and a strangely thin man wearing a lot of black and grey. Sitting at the counter, Guilmon saw a fox-like woman with blue hair and a red, flowing outfit talking to a small rabbit, as well as a young girl with fiery red hair, a grey blouse, and a grey skirt. Standing just a few feet away was a pale girl wearing black shorts, a long-sleeved green shirt with a yellow stripe running across the torso and what appeared to be a knife at her hip. Her hair was about shoulder length and fell in unkempt bangs to the top of her eyes.

He shambles up to the bar counter and catches the barkeep's eye. "Can Guilmon have whatever I could smell from outside? It smells like it'll taste amazing!" Guilmon's tongue lolls out of his mouth as the bartender sighs and pulls fresh loaves of bread out of the oven and gives two to Guilmon. "Yay~ Thank you!" He quickly finishes off one of the loaves before walking away.

Seeing that the pale girl was the closest to him when he came in, he talks to her first. "Hi! Are you Guilmon's Tamer?"

[Gildarts]

Christa couldn't stop herself from shaking while your gates she strode through counted down to her fated demise, but all she could hear were the silent and gentle chimes of the insufferable ringtone that came with these phones. Her eyes bounced over the heads of people scattered around her, and the twin that had escorted her into the room was gone. Within two seconds the Prime had flipped the phone back and had pressed it to her ear with the same bloodied knuckle she'd used on the table. Her expression was riddled with well-masked anguish and dread.

The phone stopped ringing. There was a void full of silence and question pressed against her ear. She could hear a sharp breath before the man spoke, and in his voice, she heard a triumphant smile. He had won. Whatever all this was.

"Hello, Christa." His voice rang louder than the last click of her gun.

"Hello." She tried to keep at bay her emotion, and wade on the edge of neutrality. "Where's my sister?"

"Oh we will get to that..." He said softly.

"No, is she alright? Let me hear her voice." Christa protested, the dripping of of fear could now be heard, her eyes swept the room behind her, for maybe Katia's perpetrator was in it.

"And just why would I do that? You're already doing everything I wish. You know I have your sister, and you will do as I say, because now, you can't leave. Even if you wanted to, there are volunteers stationed at every door and portal, and I would hate to see what Mr. Karl Jak would do to a prime that went back on his or her word." The voice smirked as he huffed two short scoffs of laughter, she was right where he wanted her to be. Hearing her sister alive was a privilege, not incentive. "You're in the Danteverse, sweetheart, and you're not going anywhere. Now, you'll do as I say or I'll put a knife through her throat."

Christa gulped while her mind froze. It had caught her attention, piqued her interest, and drove a spear through her heart. Her little sister's smile beamed up at her from a distant memory... But then there was that voice, and the threat looming over her head. Pulling her back in.

"Now, I want you to listen very closely for what I'm about to tell you about those envelopes. For your sister's life depends on it." Christa inched closer into the secluded corner of the main room, but the roar of the bustling people was almost too much for her, and nearly overwhelmed the man on the other side of the phone. He did not seem dismayed, however, and continued speaking, "In the largest white envelope, you will find a picture. On that picture, you will see what you are searching for. Open it."

Christa's hands fumbled to open the letter, however when she did this, tragedy struck. With one hand holding the phone, which she was straining to hear from already, and her other, playing with the glued folds of the damn envelope that just didn't want to open for her when she used one hand. A plant hit her in the face while she tried to raise her knee for extra help, though her balance was depended on a single teetering ankle. All it would've taken was that one touch and her dominos would fall down, someone might even shout "JENGA!" from across the room.

You can guess what happened next, as a suave looking reporter with too much cologne on, saw a prime standing in the corner, isolated from the rest of the group, and didn't see that behind her back she was occupied by a very important personal call. Needless to say, all it took was the suited man's hand tapping her shoulder and asking, "Excuse me miss, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

They taped her catastrophe and she tumbled to the ground. It was a blur, and Christa's mind had to replay what had happened. Meanwhile something was prodding her rips, her sniper went skittering half across the room, but the envelope had remained where it was, clutched desperately in her hands.

The prime stood up with her eyes ablaze. Who dared interrupt what could cost Christa her sister's life. Her eyes fell on the catalyst. Ron fucking Burgundy. Her mind reminded her that the man was still on the other line, and she forgot her anger rushed to find the phone, only to find it's screen broken and its two halves split, crushed by her fall. She couldn't say a word, and she could have cursed every name in the book. She settled with a raging, "FUCK," and stared at the broken bits in her palm.

Ron spoke after his face had turned red for laughing, "Hah, oh dear that was quite a tumble!" He read her anger, the phone had been important to the prime, he also saw the readying of her gun, and how in her mind she was already aiming it at his face, "Yikes, sorry to have disturbed you. Do you have a minute-"

But they were way past apologies. Christa was either ready to swing, or pull out her pistol and kill the poor man, but luckily, from across the room, carrying the sniper that had skittered precisely to his feet, Abner had since followed the familiar-looking weapon back, and strolled right into the heat of the fire.

And right into the person he had been looking for.

[Marisa Kirisame]

As Chara was enjoying her Chocolate bar she heard a voice say "Hi! Are you Guilmon's Tamer?" and she turned to see a monster that could be from her own universe she decided quickly to speak to the red creature and tell him yes "Hi im Chara and I think i'm Guilmon's Tamer". She looked at his companion which looked like like something Gaster would make and asked his name and he said it was Datamon "Ok so lets talk about each others lives before Omni took us from our worlds. and she began to talk about her world.

[Granite]

The light faded from around Granite, and he was in the Danteverse. This place was crawling with hundreds of people, walking about from room to room. And there were also what appeared to be other primes that had weapons being pointed right at their faces. Granite moved an arm, but decided against interfering, as they didn't seem to be scared or distressed by them.

Only mere moments after stepping into the crowd he was pulled aside by a reporter. "Hello there Omniverse I'm Ron Burgundy! And with only a few more hours until the expedition begins, we now talk to one of the last primes to appear! Tell us and the Omniverse what is your name, what exactly you are, and why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

Granite was taken aback, but took a second to think. "Granite. That is what I am called. I'm a gargoyle made of high quality grey marble. And I do not need to stay warm, so I don't need to wear clothing." The giant stone said.

"Alright mister rock man, what got you to sign up for this years event?" Ron stated, standing on his tiptoes to hold the mic up to Granite's mouth.

"The people in the TV told me to go sign up." Granite said immediately and without hesitation.

"Oh, so, no loved one lost on the island? No directive from some group? Not law or any of the others? How very... exciting" Ron said, slightly surprised at the statues answer.

"My only ties are with members from the institute." Granite stated, unsure of what Ron was asking for.

Ron seemed to perk up at the mention of the institute. "Well then you must be working under Okor! Tell me, how much do you despise Omni?!" Ron asked while shoving the mic back into Granite's face.

"The Smiling One is not to be trusted. I am also to question all rules, as the Monotruth dictates." Granite stated.

"And there you have it Omniverse, one of the last primes to sign up is an Institute statue! Now, let us go see if we can find another last minute entree! So stay tuned Omniverse!" And with that Ron and his crew scampered off in search of their next victims interviewee. 

Ah, so there were other Institute members here, perhaps they knew of Cat or Daxter. That was one of the thoughts that flew by Granite's head. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go offer them his services.

[Carmelita]

Carmelita turned to find herself addressed by a short rabbit, and smiled to see a familiar species. Judging by the uniform, the woman was a fellow officer of the law, and not one from an Omniverse faction.

“By all means join me, officer. I was just getting a coffee before we depart, we can easily make that two.”

After the bunny had ordered, the two of them migrated to an empty table nearby and Carmelita introduced herself.

“Inspector Carmelita Fox-Cooper,” she said, holding out her hand. “It’s always nice to meet another policewoman, even if we aren’t part of the same force.”

There was a scrunched nose of surprise in response before a paw was returned.

“Oficer Judy Hopps, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. You’re an officer?”

Carmelita brought out her Interpol badge and handed it over for inspection. The bunny looked it over even as the vixen explained.

“I work in plainclothes a lot since I worked for an international organisation, and spent a lot of time chasing individuals who would be alerted to a uniform. I take it you have a specific force you belong to?”

“Yes, the Zootopia Police Department. Your organisation?” Judy seemed genuinely inquisitive and friendly, and Carmelita couldn’t help but take heart in the familiarity of the situation compared to the craziness that the Omniverse had been so far.

“International Criminal Police Association, or Interpol for short,” Carmelita took back the badge that Judy returned and tucked it away just as their drinks were deposited at their table.

She took her coffee in both hands, leaning her elbows as she inhaled the smell of good coffee. Blowing a short stream of air across the top she took a quick sip and looked across the table at Judy. From first impressions, the rabbit was open and honest, a breath of fresh air after reading about Omniverse policing practices, and if the woman was always this upbeat Carmelita couldn’t help feel that she’d be a good person to know more about.

As she took another sip of coffee she realised that she’d missed the question Judy had just asked.

“Sorry, got distracted by liquid heaven. What was the question?”

[Gildarts]

Abner's eyes set on hers, and then he looked over at Ron. He couldn't tell who was the cause of the trouble, but that damn camera in his face was making the ex-soldier a little bothered. He thought better of handing the sniper back to Christa, who for one, had her hands full.

"Christa, hey," Abner said in greeting, meeting Ron's eyes threateningly. He saw the broken phone. He saw the rage hot on her face, and he saw the malicious intent on her eyes, all of which had hesitated when he walked into view.

"Christa is it? Well I hope you don't mind but I got all of that on camera. Will you-" The man with the burgundy suit was about to propose that she answer a few questions, then thought better of it, but it was too late.

WHAM! right in the face. And oh, justice was sweet. A punch like that wasn't the kind that any man could talk himself out of. Luckily for him, he had seen it coming, and had started to move backward, still, the knuckles on her fist had glided just over his cheek and straight into his eye. Abner's eyes widened, he wouldn't have wanted to, nor been able to cease the assault on the secondary. Christa straightened herself up, feeling redeemed. "Wrong place, wrong time, Ron." He'd taken the blow like a good sport, and fallen a few feet away from where he had unknowingly caused her to do the same.

The temperamental prime might've kept swinging had it not been for Abner, who swiftly whispered something into her ear, in order to avoid another altercation. With some reluctance, she put down her fist, and carefully met his eyes. "Fine," she muttered, "I guess I'll see you on the news, Ron." And after that punch, she knew she would be on there too. Good, that would mean that Katia's captor had seen it too, now maybe he wouldn't beat her sister to near-death, for that way she'd still live, and he'd still have his leverage. That was Christa's worst fear. And those were the stakes. For Christa, once, had endured torture, and would have never wished it on anyone, not to mention, the only family she had left.

Meanwhile, Abner looked down at the newsman, and stifled a chuckle as he walked on with Christa. The clock showed that it was five minutes till. Not enough time for her to summon a new phone, with the history of the number he had called from. Though Christa was sure it was Katia's number, that one may have been disconnected after their first arrangement anyway. Instead, Christa quickly ripped open the unopened envelope and in it, was the picture of a young girl, Katia's age. She had black hair and blue eyes, the girl looked too thin for her age, which Christa could only guess was around twelve.

"Who's that?" Abner asked coolly, testing the waters which Christa was wading. Apparently, with the brush of broken plastic which had dug into her palms like thorns, Christa seemed a little less frustrated and a little more tense.

"My reason for being here," She said openly to him while she turned the picture around, "Hmm, I don't see a name... All I know is I have to find her, Abner, Katia's life depends on it. And I won't lose her again."