05-27-2018, 02:58 PM
The rumble of the massive M35 shook the tent poles where the somewhat nervous-looking Syntech employee stood. He looked up at the behemoth vehicle as it churned and grumbled, almost positive that this was one of the infamous raids they had warned him about back in camp. His mind raced, thinking about how they had chosen an area with plenty of security from the city. He thought about how they weren’t allowed to carry heavy weapons, and if they were in real danger that their priority was the safety of the teleportation pad. It was more expensive than he was, by a wide margin.
When the door flew open and a heavy metal road warrior stepped out, he prepared himself to set the teleporter to “Find Home” and made peace with Omni. When she casually walked up, an engine block hammer in her hand, laser rifle strapped to her back, and said, “’Sup,” he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Buh- Welc- uh, welcome to Syntech Dante’s Abyss 18 registration! Duh-, um, we have, uh, we have some forms and stuff if you want to enter?”
A pink-haired grease monkey and some kind of pace elf walked up behind them. “We just want to watch primes get murdered,” the pink haired one said bluntly.
The elf’s bright purple eyes locked on the beastly woman that had first walked up. “Though, I cannot say I would not be interested in seeing my friend here compete.”
The wasteland woman turned sharply to her friend. “Yo I literally just got back from another competition like this.”
Caret grinned widely, “It’s been two years! And I didn’t get see the last one.” She made a cartoonish frown and flashed a convincing pair of pleading eyes.
The elf slid her slender fingers over the ragged edge of the woman’s heavily spiked armor. “Besides,” her voice seemed to pulse and throng inside the Syntech employee’s head, each syllable pounding with ethereal importance, “what do you have to lose?”
“And don’t tell me you didn’t have fun collecting all your little trophies!” the mechanic chimed in, patting a literal decapitated head on the woman’s belt as though it was a lap dog.
“Hng,” the woman grunted, “I was so into the idea of just relaxing and watching people get fucking wrecked from the crowd. Have a drink. Eat a hot dog.”
Swooping around the warrior, the elf smiled softly, her hand never leaving the surface of the woman’s armor. “If you are tired, you can simply quit and join us in the stands,” she all but whispered. “I desperately want to see you in battle.”
“Mmm,” the bandit grumbled, her friends bouncing and pleading at her sides, “fine I guess.”
Caret cheered in joy, literally jumping into the air and pumping her fist upwards. The elf slipped away, her cloak draping along after her and her expression shifted to one of subtle satisfaction. “Where do I join” the warrior asked, pushing away from her retinue and into the shade of the tent.
“Well, you’ll have to sign in here,” he tapped a tablet in his hand, bringing up several sheets of paperwork, “and we’ll need to gather some biometric data from you. Then we’ll shoot a little promo for you-“
“Promo?” the woman asked.
The tech continued tapping away at his pad as he prepared the logistics. “Yeah, uh, like a short video we can use to like, advertise with.”
“Oh, right, got ya,” she said, poking at a nearby monitor set up on a plastic folding table.
He pulled out a stylus, put on a smile and asked, “So, what’s your name?”
“Don’t got one,” she said flatly, not even looking back to him.
“Uhhh.” His smile melted. “What do you mean?”
“Like, a name. I do not have one.” She had the keyboard in her hand now, off the table, and she turned it back and forth as if it was the first one she’d ever seen.
His eyebrows scrunched and he tapped his stylus on the pad a few times. “That doesn’t appear to be an option.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you man, I don’t have a name.” She plopped the keyboard back down unceremoniously and turned to the tech.
“Uh, well, what do people call you?” he asked, a bit more timidly.
“Hey, you!” Caret chimed in, taking no small amount of joy from the interaction.
The elf paused for a moment and then offered up, “Masque of the Reaper’s Mirth.”
The tech looked to the non-human, whatever she was. “A bit dramatic.”
After a moment of pondering, the woman said, “Whatever you do, do not put down, ‘The Bandit With No Name.’ Did that one last time. You can’t really be nameless if people keep calling you the same shit.”
“Well, uh, what would you say your distinctive style is?” the tech getting creative. He had to put down something and he didn’t want to be stuck with these people all day.
The steel-gilded combatant pounded her fist into an open palm. “Ass kicking,” she said sarcastically.
“Alllllright,” the tech said quickly, scribbling on his pad, “We have one ‘Ass Kicker’ down in the books.” He looked up to the contestant and pointed his stylus at her, “You’ll just have to know they mean you when they announce you.”
The woman boomed out a laugh, “Oh my shit that’s perfect.”
“Ok, next up, give me a brief bio.” Already having guessed the next question, he followed up. “Where did you come from? Who are you? What’s your story?”
A dull sense of sorrow thumped out from her, all her joy gone in a wink of an eye. “Well, I was a secondary once. For whatever reason, after I died, well after I got killed, Omni brought me back. I fought in that big tourney in Camelot, and now I’m here. Not much to say.”
Caret shook her head. “She’s selling you short. She’s amazing. She’s done so much.”
He smiled to the mechanic, “That’ll work though. We don’t need much.” He noted down what he needed, and continued. “Ok, next we just have to take a few vitals. Come over here with me and we’ll grab them real quick! It’s painless.”
The bandit handed off her hammer to Caret and trudged to the small chair beside a piece of complex medical machinery. “Should I take my armor off?”
“Ah no, the diodes will read fine with it on.” He pulled a few small, white circles from the tray and peeled the paper from their sticky backing. He cleaned off a few small patches of her skin with an alcohol wipe and applied them on her temple, jaw, forearm, wrist and neck. After a few moments, the machine beeped and he pulled them away. “See? All done.”
“Dope,” she replied. “What next?”
“Promotional material, if I recall?” the elf in the red cloak and fancy white armor said softly as she could, but her voice will bounced around the room.
“That’s right!” the tech responded, more than accustomed to the oddity of the Omniverse’s inhabitants. He gestured at a tall green screen set up in the corner of the room. “Just join me over here, say something cool, and that’ll be it! Don’t worry, we’ll give you a little bit of directing if you’re having a rough time.”
“Alight,” she said and stood up and walked over to the screen. “Just stand in front of the green, yeah?”
The tech held his tablet in front of himself and stabilized it with the other hand. “Yup! Now Give me a war face!”
The woman flexed hard and grimaced sarcastically. “They call me ASS KICKER and I am here to KICK YOUR ASS!” she snarled in a faux baritone. There was a short pause before she burst into laughter and dropped the pose.
The tech gave a genuine laugh and let the tablet sag. “Ok, that was good, but maybe… hm. Get your hammer.”
Caret walked up and handed it over. “You know you have a literal war face, right?” she asked, teasing the woman gently.
She nodded, “Ah yeah, good call.” She put the head of the hammer on the ground and retrieved a small aluminum tin from a pouch o her waist, then carefully smeared a large white skull over her face. “That’s better,” she confirmed to herself. The ritual pulled away some of the silliness of the scenario, and she managed to feel like she was about to go into battle. “Let’s do it.”
The tech lifted the tablet. “And… action.”
A furious expression crossed the bandit’s face and she bore her teeth. Her hulking framed flexed, and the sinew of her muscle was visible even beneath the heavy armor. She hefted her hammer up and twisted the throttle, a screaming roar filling the tiny tent. She bellowed out and swung it above her head, at which point the head coughed out a few plumes of flame from the exhaust before erupting into a massive explosion.
The green screen, the tent ceiling and several nearby tables were blasted away, and she was left standing in her pose, smoke streaming off of her armor, hair and body.
The tech stood in absolute silence, staring that the black ring around her. After a second, he patted out a small patch of flame that had started on his dress shirt, blinked, and said, “Yeah. That’ll do.”
“Sick!” the woman shouted. “Yeah, that felt good.” She looked around at the partially ripped up tent. “Uh… you need me to fix this?” she asked.
The tech shook his head, “No, we anticipate this. We have four more tents here with us.” He tapped the screen a few more times, “Alright, and you’re registration is complete. Just step into the rear of the tent behind that flap right there and we’ll teleport you all to the Danteverse!”
Caret gestured to the truck behind her. “What about my baby?”
“The truck?” the tech clarified.
She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t wanna just leave it parked out here. Who knows what could happen to it!”
The tech smiled. He hadn’t gotten to do this yet. “Oh, we’re prepared for that. If you all wouldn’t mind loading up?”
When the door flew open and a heavy metal road warrior stepped out, he prepared himself to set the teleporter to “Find Home” and made peace with Omni. When she casually walked up, an engine block hammer in her hand, laser rifle strapped to her back, and said, “’Sup,” he wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Buh- Welc- uh, welcome to Syntech Dante’s Abyss 18 registration! Duh-, um, we have, uh, we have some forms and stuff if you want to enter?”
A pink-haired grease monkey and some kind of pace elf walked up behind them. “We just want to watch primes get murdered,” the pink haired one said bluntly.
The elf’s bright purple eyes locked on the beastly woman that had first walked up. “Though, I cannot say I would not be interested in seeing my friend here compete.”
The wasteland woman turned sharply to her friend. “Yo I literally just got back from another competition like this.”
Caret grinned widely, “It’s been two years! And I didn’t get see the last one.” She made a cartoonish frown and flashed a convincing pair of pleading eyes.
The elf slid her slender fingers over the ragged edge of the woman’s heavily spiked armor. “Besides,” her voice seemed to pulse and throng inside the Syntech employee’s head, each syllable pounding with ethereal importance, “what do you have to lose?”
“And don’t tell me you didn’t have fun collecting all your little trophies!” the mechanic chimed in, patting a literal decapitated head on the woman’s belt as though it was a lap dog.
“Hng,” the woman grunted, “I was so into the idea of just relaxing and watching people get fucking wrecked from the crowd. Have a drink. Eat a hot dog.”
Swooping around the warrior, the elf smiled softly, her hand never leaving the surface of the woman’s armor. “If you are tired, you can simply quit and join us in the stands,” she all but whispered. “I desperately want to see you in battle.”
“Mmm,” the bandit grumbled, her friends bouncing and pleading at her sides, “fine I guess.”
Caret cheered in joy, literally jumping into the air and pumping her fist upwards. The elf slipped away, her cloak draping along after her and her expression shifted to one of subtle satisfaction. “Where do I join” the warrior asked, pushing away from her retinue and into the shade of the tent.
“Well, you’ll have to sign in here,” he tapped a tablet in his hand, bringing up several sheets of paperwork, “and we’ll need to gather some biometric data from you. Then we’ll shoot a little promo for you-“
“Promo?” the woman asked.
The tech continued tapping away at his pad as he prepared the logistics. “Yeah, uh, like a short video we can use to like, advertise with.”
“Oh, right, got ya,” she said, poking at a nearby monitor set up on a plastic folding table.
He pulled out a stylus, put on a smile and asked, “So, what’s your name?”
“Don’t got one,” she said flatly, not even looking back to him.
“Uhhh.” His smile melted. “What do you mean?”
“Like, a name. I do not have one.” She had the keyboard in her hand now, off the table, and she turned it back and forth as if it was the first one she’d ever seen.
His eyebrows scrunched and he tapped his stylus on the pad a few times. “That doesn’t appear to be an option.”
“Well I don’t know what to tell you man, I don’t have a name.” She plopped the keyboard back down unceremoniously and turned to the tech.
“Uh, well, what do people call you?” he asked, a bit more timidly.
“Hey, you!” Caret chimed in, taking no small amount of joy from the interaction.
The elf paused for a moment and then offered up, “Masque of the Reaper’s Mirth.”
The tech looked to the non-human, whatever she was. “A bit dramatic.”
After a moment of pondering, the woman said, “Whatever you do, do not put down, ‘The Bandit With No Name.’ Did that one last time. You can’t really be nameless if people keep calling you the same shit.”
“Well, uh, what would you say your distinctive style is?” the tech getting creative. He had to put down something and he didn’t want to be stuck with these people all day.
The steel-gilded combatant pounded her fist into an open palm. “Ass kicking,” she said sarcastically.
“Alllllright,” the tech said quickly, scribbling on his pad, “We have one ‘Ass Kicker’ down in the books.” He looked up to the contestant and pointed his stylus at her, “You’ll just have to know they mean you when they announce you.”
The woman boomed out a laugh, “Oh my shit that’s perfect.”
“Ok, next up, give me a brief bio.” Already having guessed the next question, he followed up. “Where did you come from? Who are you? What’s your story?”
A dull sense of sorrow thumped out from her, all her joy gone in a wink of an eye. “Well, I was a secondary once. For whatever reason, after I died, well after I got killed, Omni brought me back. I fought in that big tourney in Camelot, and now I’m here. Not much to say.”
Caret shook her head. “She’s selling you short. She’s amazing. She’s done so much.”
He smiled to the mechanic, “That’ll work though. We don’t need much.” He noted down what he needed, and continued. “Ok, next we just have to take a few vitals. Come over here with me and we’ll grab them real quick! It’s painless.”
The bandit handed off her hammer to Caret and trudged to the small chair beside a piece of complex medical machinery. “Should I take my armor off?”
“Ah no, the diodes will read fine with it on.” He pulled a few small, white circles from the tray and peeled the paper from their sticky backing. He cleaned off a few small patches of her skin with an alcohol wipe and applied them on her temple, jaw, forearm, wrist and neck. After a few moments, the machine beeped and he pulled them away. “See? All done.”
“Dope,” she replied. “What next?”
“Promotional material, if I recall?” the elf in the red cloak and fancy white armor said softly as she could, but her voice will bounced around the room.
“That’s right!” the tech responded, more than accustomed to the oddity of the Omniverse’s inhabitants. He gestured at a tall green screen set up in the corner of the room. “Just join me over here, say something cool, and that’ll be it! Don’t worry, we’ll give you a little bit of directing if you’re having a rough time.”
“Alight,” she said and stood up and walked over to the screen. “Just stand in front of the green, yeah?”
The tech held his tablet in front of himself and stabilized it with the other hand. “Yup! Now Give me a war face!”
The woman flexed hard and grimaced sarcastically. “They call me ASS KICKER and I am here to KICK YOUR ASS!” she snarled in a faux baritone. There was a short pause before she burst into laughter and dropped the pose.
The tech gave a genuine laugh and let the tablet sag. “Ok, that was good, but maybe… hm. Get your hammer.”
Caret walked up and handed it over. “You know you have a literal war face, right?” she asked, teasing the woman gently.
She nodded, “Ah yeah, good call.” She put the head of the hammer on the ground and retrieved a small aluminum tin from a pouch o her waist, then carefully smeared a large white skull over her face. “That’s better,” she confirmed to herself. The ritual pulled away some of the silliness of the scenario, and she managed to feel like she was about to go into battle. “Let’s do it.”
The tech lifted the tablet. “And… action.”
A furious expression crossed the bandit’s face and she bore her teeth. Her hulking framed flexed, and the sinew of her muscle was visible even beneath the heavy armor. She hefted her hammer up and twisted the throttle, a screaming roar filling the tiny tent. She bellowed out and swung it above her head, at which point the head coughed out a few plumes of flame from the exhaust before erupting into a massive explosion.
The green screen, the tent ceiling and several nearby tables were blasted away, and she was left standing in her pose, smoke streaming off of her armor, hair and body.
The tech stood in absolute silence, staring that the black ring around her. After a second, he patted out a small patch of flame that had started on his dress shirt, blinked, and said, “Yeah. That’ll do.”
“Sick!” the woman shouted. “Yeah, that felt good.” She looked around at the partially ripped up tent. “Uh… you need me to fix this?” she asked.
The tech shook his head, “No, we anticipate this. We have four more tents here with us.” He tapped the screen a few more times, “Alright, and you’re registration is complete. Just step into the rear of the tent behind that flap right there and we’ll teleport you all to the Danteverse!”
Caret gestured to the truck behind her. “What about my baby?”
“The truck?” the tech clarified.
She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t wanna just leave it parked out here. Who knows what could happen to it!”
The tech smiled. He hadn’t gotten to do this yet. “Oh, we’re prepared for that. If you all wouldn’t mind loading up?”