06-08-2018, 10:23 AM
Karl walked the preshow facility.
Unlike last year’s model, PSF-18 felt a little more crowded, and the producer couldn’t tell if that was because there were more people or if the facility was smaller. He racked his brain, but in the din, he couldn’t focus enough to recall the exact schematics. Once he had some time later, he’d return to his office and mull over them. He wasn’t a fan of the shoulder-to-shoulder atmosphere—one of the reasons why he abhorred the Central City office that Syntech had maintained before that final, disastrous planetary invasion. How people could stand to live in Coruscant or Minas Tirith amazed Karl. Why not just go create your own spacious home? It’s a universe of limitless opportunity and people still felt trapped in whatever tropes and societies they considered naturally.
Karl Jak fished into his pocket for the disc of omnilium. The multi-colored surface glinted, even in the mostly florescent lighting of PSF-18. Raw omnilium had always been fascinating on a few levels. Where else could you find raw power and unbridled dreams blended together like this? The man flipped the coin before returning it to his vest pocket.
Everything was running smoothly, with the exception of a small hiccup between Golidlocks, the Mouse, the Gun. Fortunately, the threat of being evicted from the festivities had kept at least two of them in-check and none of the employees had been beaten or battered.
Lifting up his CapuslePad, Karl glanced at the social media feeds and smirked. This event was certainly trending well, which would only mean even better returns once the fireballs and fists starting flying about.
People love a blood sport.
Back in his home world, the atmosphere around Dante’s Abyss had always been a little darker and foreboding. Someone who died in those tournaments had a higher chance of vanishing forever, because no everyone in Karl’s home world was cut out to linger in existence in service of the Kais.
But in the Omniverse?
Primes were living gods, capable not just of crafting reality but also never dying. Sure, they’d invent stakes, but at the end of the day, they had nothing to lose in these competitions.
And even the most boring primes could be made more fanciful through the pseudo-science of omnilium. Karl panned through the various zones he’d handcrafted over the last year, and the various enhancement or handicapping features he’d woven into the various regions of his Danteverse.
Slipping away from the main concourse, Karl stepped into a water closet and made for the far wall. Without skipping a beat, he casually walked through the steel surface and emerged on the other side. He cracked a smile as he nodded to the security guard posted in the room.
“You need some kind of indicator light for when you’re going to do that, Sir.”
Karl jiggled his left arm, which always seemed to twitch after the phasing process. “I could just pop in here, but I don’t trust your itchy trigger finger, Karlson.”
“Love you too, Sir,” the security guard replied as he tipped his hat to his boss. “Always fun when this place is buzzing.”
“I know, Karlson,” the producer remarked. “When do you go back to your shift outside?”
“Few hours and I swap with Richards.”
“Send my regards,” Karl said before departing from the screening room and making for the network of halls and stairs that would lead him up to his office suite in PSF-18. He got about halfway before the mobile phone in his pocket started to chirp at him. Normally he’d ignore the call, but the ringtone was
‘We Are the Champions’.
Flipping open his phone, Karl lifted it to his ears and smiled as he spoke. “Good evening, Sir, how are you?”
“I’m all right. Sunset. You would have loved it.”
Karl scowled. He loved sunsets and rum. Or sunsets and tequila. Or sunsets and vodka…
“Anyway, Karl, your shift’s almost over. You can head back once the first round starts, sound good?”
The producer nodded his head. “Perfect, boss.”
“Be good to yourself, and I’ll speak with you soon. Smooches.”
“Smooches.” Karl said as he flipped the phone shut and continued on to his office.
***
On the other side of the phone call, Karl Jak toasted to the amber haze on the horizon before taking another sip from the coconut.
“Here’s to another one.”
Unlike last year’s model, PSF-18 felt a little more crowded, and the producer couldn’t tell if that was because there were more people or if the facility was smaller. He racked his brain, but in the din, he couldn’t focus enough to recall the exact schematics. Once he had some time later, he’d return to his office and mull over them. He wasn’t a fan of the shoulder-to-shoulder atmosphere—one of the reasons why he abhorred the Central City office that Syntech had maintained before that final, disastrous planetary invasion. How people could stand to live in Coruscant or Minas Tirith amazed Karl. Why not just go create your own spacious home? It’s a universe of limitless opportunity and people still felt trapped in whatever tropes and societies they considered naturally.
Karl Jak fished into his pocket for the disc of omnilium. The multi-colored surface glinted, even in the mostly florescent lighting of PSF-18. Raw omnilium had always been fascinating on a few levels. Where else could you find raw power and unbridled dreams blended together like this? The man flipped the coin before returning it to his vest pocket.
Everything was running smoothly, with the exception of a small hiccup between Golidlocks, the Mouse, the Gun. Fortunately, the threat of being evicted from the festivities had kept at least two of them in-check and none of the employees had been beaten or battered.
Lifting up his CapuslePad, Karl glanced at the social media feeds and smirked. This event was certainly trending well, which would only mean even better returns once the fireballs and fists starting flying about.
People love a blood sport.
Back in his home world, the atmosphere around Dante’s Abyss had always been a little darker and foreboding. Someone who died in those tournaments had a higher chance of vanishing forever, because no everyone in Karl’s home world was cut out to linger in existence in service of the Kais.
But in the Omniverse?
Primes were living gods, capable not just of crafting reality but also never dying. Sure, they’d invent stakes, but at the end of the day, they had nothing to lose in these competitions.
And even the most boring primes could be made more fanciful through the pseudo-science of omnilium. Karl panned through the various zones he’d handcrafted over the last year, and the various enhancement or handicapping features he’d woven into the various regions of his Danteverse.
Slipping away from the main concourse, Karl stepped into a water closet and made for the far wall. Without skipping a beat, he casually walked through the steel surface and emerged on the other side. He cracked a smile as he nodded to the security guard posted in the room.
“You need some kind of indicator light for when you’re going to do that, Sir.”
Karl jiggled his left arm, which always seemed to twitch after the phasing process. “I could just pop in here, but I don’t trust your itchy trigger finger, Karlson.”
“Love you too, Sir,” the security guard replied as he tipped his hat to his boss. “Always fun when this place is buzzing.”
“I know, Karlson,” the producer remarked. “When do you go back to your shift outside?”
“Few hours and I swap with Richards.”
“Send my regards,” Karl said before departing from the screening room and making for the network of halls and stairs that would lead him up to his office suite in PSF-18. He got about halfway before the mobile phone in his pocket started to chirp at him. Normally he’d ignore the call, but the ringtone was
‘We Are the Champions’.
Flipping open his phone, Karl lifted it to his ears and smiled as he spoke. “Good evening, Sir, how are you?”
“I’m all right. Sunset. You would have loved it.”
Karl scowled. He loved sunsets and rum. Or sunsets and tequila. Or sunsets and vodka…
“Anyway, Karl, your shift’s almost over. You can head back once the first round starts, sound good?”
The producer nodded his head. “Perfect, boss.”
“Be good to yourself, and I’ll speak with you soon. Smooches.”
“Smooches.” Karl said as he flipped the phone shut and continued on to his office.
***
On the other side of the phone call, Karl Jak toasted to the amber haze on the horizon before taking another sip from the coconut.
“Here’s to another one.”
![[Image: KarlSig.jpg]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/KarlSig.jpg)