01-29-2017, 11:29 PM
When Tearen came to, the first thing that came into his head was a loud, steady thumping noise. No...the Ripper couldn't still be alive could it? Slowly his vision flickered in and out, and the world began to come into focus. He was currently laying, of all things, on what could passably be called a bed in what appeared to be a bunk room of some kind. Twisted and half-rusted medical implements lay on a table nearby, and as Tearen ran a hand over his smooth black chest, he felt long straps of filthy fabric sopping up his black metallic blood. Cringing, Tearen propped himself up on his right elbow and blinked, trying to get a better sense of where he was.
No one else was currently in this sleeping quarters, but Tearen could feel an abundance of mental activity nearby. The muted thumping appeared to be music of some of a rather electronic nature. It was odd, though. Tearen had been certain that his wounds would be fatal under the circumstances he had been in. Yet as he gingerly prodded the skin beneath the sodden bandages, the damage the Ripper had wrought on him was nearly unnoticeable. Had some demonic practitioner of medicine used dark healing magics of some kind? It didn't seem likely, given the treatment he'd received so far. It was, however, a curiosity for another time. For now, Tearen eased himself out of bed and slowly stepped towards a doorway at the far end of the bunk-lined room.
As Tearen pried open the door, the first thing that assaulted him was and abundance of light and noise. Strobing patterns of luminescence and flashing patterns on the wall chuffed and swirled in time with the overbearing cannon-fire that was apparently club music. Tearen was standing at a small balcony ringed by a wrought-iron railing. A staircase descended down to the main floor on his left, giving him access to the larger facility which seemed to be roughly the size of a small chapel. Black metal cages with exotic dancers hung from the ceiling, and ensconced torches blazed a wild red, turning the entire place into a veritable oven.
A few of the dancers and revelers in the large hall shot him looks as he walked past; some impressed, some disgusted. A passive sense of dérive guided him towards what appeared to be a VIP section of the demonic bar. It was a small, semi-circular dias which sat elevated a few steps above the floor, surrounded by gilded banisters and what appeared to be superheated spikes. On a large plinth in the middle of this VIP section, a lone dancer was writhing their way around on a large metal pole. The shameless gyrations and physical vulgarities of the dance may have been somewhat alluring to Tearen if it hadn't been for the fact that the dancer's head was missing.
Still, never one to shy away from the bizarre, Tearen stepped up onto the platform, unhindered by the brusque looking demon bouncers who stood astride the steps leading up to the platform. Sitting around the dancer's plinth were a few well-dressed demons, some more infernal looking than others, who all raised a glass to the approaching warrior. Tearen took special note of one in particular, who had the same pattern that Grooota had etched on his back carved into his own forehead. This demon, a tad on the corpulent side, beckoned Tearen to sit next to him.
"Hail the conquering hero." the demon said, passing a glass of some foul looking black ichor to the ex-enigma. Tearen took the glass out of appreciation, but simply placed it on the table next to him. This demon of Grooota appeared, for the most part, like a bald, red-skinned human with black horns; a sort of quintessential devilish figure. The differences emerged in what appeared to be a pair of electronic eyes and an apparently mechanized neck, constantly hissing and clicking as its gyros swiveled.
And you are...? Tearen asked in a droll tone. The cyborg demon chuckled.
"Just another one of Grooota's eyes and ears beyond the city limits. Ilthiax is my name. I don't believe Grooota ever got yours." the demonic charmer said, a pleasantly calm smile plastered on his face. Tearen glanced around at the other apparent bigshots in the VIP section. They all sat, attention rapt, looking at the pair that served Grooota, but made no comment.
My name is... Tearen started. He hesitated, wondering if it would be more to his benefit to use the name of his Enigma identity. It was a larger conundrum than he had first anticipated. On one hand, he wanted to move past that phase in his life, and using his first name here would allow him to establish a new identity both here and in the proper Omniverse. On the other hand, the name Nealaphh certainly would have at least a little weight, even in this blasted hellscape. Actually...the latter thought was actually an assumption.
...Tearen.
"Tearen?" Ilthiax asked with what seemed to be an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. "Quite the unique name. I wonder what your story was before you were brought to the Omniverse? Ah yes, Grooota told me that you were a Prime. I suppose that's far beyond questioning at this point." the smug demon continued, taking a decadent sip of the black slop filling his glass.
Where are the other two demons from Grooota? Usshot and Klicka?
"Ah, those two. Don't worry about them, they're far beneath our notice at this point." Ilthiax crooned. Tearen noted that this demon was already making himself an apparent advocate.
I presume you're going to be an agent of some kind for my future death matches. Tearen said, keeping his tone level. Ilthiax barked out a sharp, electronic sounding laugh and jabbed a thumb in Tearen's direction.
"This one! He's a sharp one! Vashuna will have to watch his step, right?" Ilthiax said, beaming at the other demon VIPs assembled. A few of them chuckled lowly. Tearen earmarked the name Vashuna for later research. Ilthiax finished his current glass and turned it upside down on the table between himself and the Shadow. "Yes indeed. Grooota and I are both excited to be working with such a fine talent, I must say. These other gentle-souls are equally as invested in our success." Ilthiax said, draping one heavy metal arm around Tearen's shoulder while gesturing at the seated demons with the other.
I don't suppose I'll be benefiting from any of this.
Ilthiax took this opportunity to look sincerely wounded, and ran a metal-clawed finger from his right eye down his cheek.
"Aw now, don't say that. Top-billing gladiators are treated like their own kind of royalty! All you have to do is keep on not dying! It's really very simple for everyone."
Tearen refrained from pointing out all the ways in which battles to the death were anything but simple, but decided to humor Ilthiax's sleezeball act for the time being.
I'm surprised Grooota is so invested in this. It doesn't seem to me that he is wanting for any material gain.
"Astute once again, my dear Tearen. No, what Grooota stands to gain is respect and prestige. After all, any good gladiator has someone that they represent! Your victories are Grooota's, and that just gives him one more reason to gloat to the likes of Jones, or Immortan or Belial or whoever you please." Ilthiax said, twisting his hand around in the air, as if dismissing the notion that any of those names were truly important. Tearen squinted hard at the cyborg for a moment. It was difficult to take this demon seriously, but Tearen had to trust that he was better off cooperating with someone more experienced with the Underverse's gladiatorial rings than himself. Evidently, however, Tearen's body was still working on recovering from the battle against the Ripper, and the light and heat of this raunchy club were beginning to wear him down. Best to just get to the point.
Very well then. Where do I fight next?
"I am just so fucking glad you asked." Ilthiax said, clapping his taloned hands together. When he pulled them apart, a web of sickly green lines showed crude map of what Tearen presumed to be the central Underverse. Their current location was marked by Groota's insignia, and a path showing the way to the next arena wove along the green light-webbing. From the looks of it, it would be another small, out of the way venue much like this one had been. Tearen wondered why they didn't send him somewhere more widely publicized, seeing as they were apparently so enamored with his abilities. Ilthiax seemed to pick up on this confusion when he continued with,
"Don't worry, if your opponent turns out to be a nobody, we'll send you somewhere else. Can't have you start building a legend on week foundations now can we?" Ilthiax asked, offering Tearen an uncomfortably friendly grin. Even the demon's teeth were metallic and presumably had several extraneous functions to match. At this point, all Tearen really wanted was to get back to napping.
I'll depart for this other town...Azgradurg...as soon as I have made a more stable recovery. Tearen said, standing up slowly. Ilthiax and the others stood up with him and smiled as he floated directly up into the air, back towards the bunk room. The Shadow had been prepared for endless suffering and discomfort upon coming to the Underverse. Finding these level of accommodations and services was continuing to be a stark surprise...though Tearen could hazard a guess that there were just as many places in the Underverse that were completely wild and untamed. He would have to make a point of visiting these more dangerous climes, at some point. For now, it was time to lay down and gather his thoughts once more...
No one else was currently in this sleeping quarters, but Tearen could feel an abundance of mental activity nearby. The muted thumping appeared to be music of some of a rather electronic nature. It was odd, though. Tearen had been certain that his wounds would be fatal under the circumstances he had been in. Yet as he gingerly prodded the skin beneath the sodden bandages, the damage the Ripper had wrought on him was nearly unnoticeable. Had some demonic practitioner of medicine used dark healing magics of some kind? It didn't seem likely, given the treatment he'd received so far. It was, however, a curiosity for another time. For now, Tearen eased himself out of bed and slowly stepped towards a doorway at the far end of the bunk-lined room.
As Tearen pried open the door, the first thing that assaulted him was and abundance of light and noise. Strobing patterns of luminescence and flashing patterns on the wall chuffed and swirled in time with the overbearing cannon-fire that was apparently club music. Tearen was standing at a small balcony ringed by a wrought-iron railing. A staircase descended down to the main floor on his left, giving him access to the larger facility which seemed to be roughly the size of a small chapel. Black metal cages with exotic dancers hung from the ceiling, and ensconced torches blazed a wild red, turning the entire place into a veritable oven.
A few of the dancers and revelers in the large hall shot him looks as he walked past; some impressed, some disgusted. A passive sense of dérive guided him towards what appeared to be a VIP section of the demonic bar. It was a small, semi-circular dias which sat elevated a few steps above the floor, surrounded by gilded banisters and what appeared to be superheated spikes. On a large plinth in the middle of this VIP section, a lone dancer was writhing their way around on a large metal pole. The shameless gyrations and physical vulgarities of the dance may have been somewhat alluring to Tearen if it hadn't been for the fact that the dancer's head was missing.
Still, never one to shy away from the bizarre, Tearen stepped up onto the platform, unhindered by the brusque looking demon bouncers who stood astride the steps leading up to the platform. Sitting around the dancer's plinth were a few well-dressed demons, some more infernal looking than others, who all raised a glass to the approaching warrior. Tearen took special note of one in particular, who had the same pattern that Grooota had etched on his back carved into his own forehead. This demon, a tad on the corpulent side, beckoned Tearen to sit next to him.
"Hail the conquering hero." the demon said, passing a glass of some foul looking black ichor to the ex-enigma. Tearen took the glass out of appreciation, but simply placed it on the table next to him. This demon of Grooota appeared, for the most part, like a bald, red-skinned human with black horns; a sort of quintessential devilish figure. The differences emerged in what appeared to be a pair of electronic eyes and an apparently mechanized neck, constantly hissing and clicking as its gyros swiveled.
And you are...? Tearen asked in a droll tone. The cyborg demon chuckled.
"Just another one of Grooota's eyes and ears beyond the city limits. Ilthiax is my name. I don't believe Grooota ever got yours." the demonic charmer said, a pleasantly calm smile plastered on his face. Tearen glanced around at the other apparent bigshots in the VIP section. They all sat, attention rapt, looking at the pair that served Grooota, but made no comment.
My name is... Tearen started. He hesitated, wondering if it would be more to his benefit to use the name of his Enigma identity. It was a larger conundrum than he had first anticipated. On one hand, he wanted to move past that phase in his life, and using his first name here would allow him to establish a new identity both here and in the proper Omniverse. On the other hand, the name Nealaphh certainly would have at least a little weight, even in this blasted hellscape. Actually...the latter thought was actually an assumption.
...Tearen.
"Tearen?" Ilthiax asked with what seemed to be an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm. "Quite the unique name. I wonder what your story was before you were brought to the Omniverse? Ah yes, Grooota told me that you were a Prime. I suppose that's far beyond questioning at this point." the smug demon continued, taking a decadent sip of the black slop filling his glass.
Where are the other two demons from Grooota? Usshot and Klicka?
"Ah, those two. Don't worry about them, they're far beneath our notice at this point." Ilthiax crooned. Tearen noted that this demon was already making himself an apparent advocate.
I presume you're going to be an agent of some kind for my future death matches. Tearen said, keeping his tone level. Ilthiax barked out a sharp, electronic sounding laugh and jabbed a thumb in Tearen's direction.
"This one! He's a sharp one! Vashuna will have to watch his step, right?" Ilthiax said, beaming at the other demon VIPs assembled. A few of them chuckled lowly. Tearen earmarked the name Vashuna for later research. Ilthiax finished his current glass and turned it upside down on the table between himself and the Shadow. "Yes indeed. Grooota and I are both excited to be working with such a fine talent, I must say. These other gentle-souls are equally as invested in our success." Ilthiax said, draping one heavy metal arm around Tearen's shoulder while gesturing at the seated demons with the other.
I don't suppose I'll be benefiting from any of this.
Ilthiax took this opportunity to look sincerely wounded, and ran a metal-clawed finger from his right eye down his cheek.
"Aw now, don't say that. Top-billing gladiators are treated like their own kind of royalty! All you have to do is keep on not dying! It's really very simple for everyone."
Tearen refrained from pointing out all the ways in which battles to the death were anything but simple, but decided to humor Ilthiax's sleezeball act for the time being.
I'm surprised Grooota is so invested in this. It doesn't seem to me that he is wanting for any material gain.
"Astute once again, my dear Tearen. No, what Grooota stands to gain is respect and prestige. After all, any good gladiator has someone that they represent! Your victories are Grooota's, and that just gives him one more reason to gloat to the likes of Jones, or Immortan or Belial or whoever you please." Ilthiax said, twisting his hand around in the air, as if dismissing the notion that any of those names were truly important. Tearen squinted hard at the cyborg for a moment. It was difficult to take this demon seriously, but Tearen had to trust that he was better off cooperating with someone more experienced with the Underverse's gladiatorial rings than himself. Evidently, however, Tearen's body was still working on recovering from the battle against the Ripper, and the light and heat of this raunchy club were beginning to wear him down. Best to just get to the point.
Very well then. Where do I fight next?
"I am just so fucking glad you asked." Ilthiax said, clapping his taloned hands together. When he pulled them apart, a web of sickly green lines showed crude map of what Tearen presumed to be the central Underverse. Their current location was marked by Groota's insignia, and a path showing the way to the next arena wove along the green light-webbing. From the looks of it, it would be another small, out of the way venue much like this one had been. Tearen wondered why they didn't send him somewhere more widely publicized, seeing as they were apparently so enamored with his abilities. Ilthiax seemed to pick up on this confusion when he continued with,
"Don't worry, if your opponent turns out to be a nobody, we'll send you somewhere else. Can't have you start building a legend on week foundations now can we?" Ilthiax asked, offering Tearen an uncomfortably friendly grin. Even the demon's teeth were metallic and presumably had several extraneous functions to match. At this point, all Tearen really wanted was to get back to napping.
I'll depart for this other town...Azgradurg...as soon as I have made a more stable recovery. Tearen said, standing up slowly. Ilthiax and the others stood up with him and smiled as he floated directly up into the air, back towards the bunk room. The Shadow had been prepared for endless suffering and discomfort upon coming to the Underverse. Finding these level of accommodations and services was continuing to be a stark surprise...though Tearen could hazard a guess that there were just as many places in the Underverse that were completely wild and untamed. He would have to make a point of visiting these more dangerous climes, at some point. For now, it was time to lay down and gather his thoughts once more...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued