Dante's Abyss Spectators

[PepsiWhirda]

[spoiler]

Yuuka really didn't care what her partner had to say about her habits. She was too stuck in her ways to change- and Whirda would only have to learn that the hard way. ...Or the easy one, if they were given a moment of peace amongst the reporters.

The media wasn't a new thing to Yuuka in any fashion- the Tengu in Gensokyo were fiends at reporting every last shred of a story they could get their talons on, no matter how made up. So one could imagine that Yuuka did not particularly enjoy their presence around her. In her mind the best way to deal with them was to confuse them, though the method by which she accomplished that varied. In Gensokyo that was typically accomplished by "not doing anything interesting." Here, well...

Like it or not, blood sports were interesting.

So, with cameras aimed at her, microphones roughly shoved into her general vicinity, and perhaps half a dozen people crowding around her, she took in a deep breath to deal with it. With a look of utter dismay on her face, she glanced about the "reporters." Of course, most of them looked horrendously disreputable. One of them she even doubted was a sentient being- perhaps some sort of automated news machine? She didn't know. Too far behind the times.

"Miss Kazami, what are your thoughts on your win?"

"Nice."

"You mentioned some interesting things during the fight- it seems you have some history with Miss Kirisame."

"Oh, yes. Very tragic past, us. Unforgivable sins, sleepless pursuit of justice, et cetera, et cetera. Quite a long story."

The "long story" was approximately a sentence long and went something along the lines of "she broke into my house, stole some of my garbage and punched me," of course.

Interest now piqued, the reporter stepped forward a bit, twinkle in his eye.

Thankfully, at this point, a Syntech employee stepped forward as well, between the uncomfortable pair and the paparazzi. "Now folks. Let's let these two get healed up and rested before asking any more questions. There will be plenty of time afterwards."

She shot a glance at the two still-injured women and nodded, beckoning them off into a side room behind fenced off lines to the cacophony of disappointed newsies.

Said room was decorated in a utilitarian fashion- everything off white, two futons, a man in a lab coat flipping through some tablet-like device as he waited. He seemed to jump as the injured fighters entered, though more at how sudden it was than seeing them. Working here, he had to be used to such injuries, after all. With another curt nod, he pointed each of them to one of the futons. "Right, sit on down for a moment and we can discuss the specifics of your healing."

Yuuka, for her part, took this opportunity to take a seat eagerly- letting out an enormous sigh the moment her butt hit the mattress. Were she a less strong willed woman, she had a feeling she would pass out and fall asleep right there on the spot. "What specifics?"

"Oh- simply what method of healing is most comfortable for you."

"What do you have?"

"Just about any-" The man paused as he caught a glance at something on that device of his and cleared his throat. "W-well... Can I interest you in an ice cold Pepsi?"

[/spoiler]

Whirda repeated the unfamiliar word.  "Pepsi?"

The bespectacled doctor regarded Whirda, arcing an eyebrow.  "You’ve never had Pepsi before?” he asked.  A buzzing noise emerged from the device he carried.  The doctor glanced at it nervously, fear flashing across his face.  He cleared his throat.  “Sorry.  What I meant to say was, ‘You’ve never enjoyed the cool, refreshing taste of Pepsi before?’”

Taken aback by his unusual behavior, Whirda turned her puzzled expression on Yuuka.  The green-haired woman shrugged.

“PepsiCo is the biggest sponsor of Dante’s Abyss,” the doctor continued.  His voice had taken on the droning, mechanical timbre of a man reciting lines from a script.  “They make Pepsi, the highest quality carbonated soft drink in the Omniverse.”

“And it has healing properties?” Whirda asked.
“Here it does.  Things tend to work… differently in Dante’s Abyss.”

Whirda’s patience ran thin.  Her body ached from head to toe, her broken nose still splayed across her face.  The next battle would start soon, she knew, and she needed rest.  Despite her apprehensions, she gave the doctor a curt nod.  “Pepsi, then.”

A relieved smile flashed across the doctor’s face.  He walked to a chest made of a shiny, solid material Whirda did not recognize and lifted the lid, reaching inside to remove two transparent bottles with red and blue labels.  He handed one to each of the Primes.

Whirda stared at the bottle blankly, turning it over in her hands.  The foreign material was cold against her skin, wet with condensation.  The contents of the bottle were a deep brown.

The doctor cleared his throat again.  “You have to twist the cap,” he said, pantomiming and twisting motion with both hands.

“Like this,” Yuuka said, also demonstrating.  Her bottle opened with a hiss of escaping carbonation, a supremely satisfying sound.

Whirda followed suit.  Her own bottle hissed and, following Yuuka’s lead, she tilted it to her lips.  When the syrupy Pepsi met her tongue, she immediately gagged and spat it back up.  The saccharine sweet liquid coated her tongue and the inside of her mouth.  Whirda coughed and spluttered, trying to rid herself of its foul taste.

“You try to poison me?!” she roared, springing to her feet.

The doctor backpedaled, brushing brown droplets from the front of his previously pristine lab coat.  “Ms. Windstrom,” he hurriedly explained, “under no circumstances would a Syntech employee seek to cause you harm.  The cool, refreshing taste of Pepsi is an acquired taste for those hailing from certain realms, but I assure you it is quite effective.”

Opening her mouth to reply, Whirda promptly shut it again when she felt her bent and broken nose straightening.  She held her hands in front of her face, eyes wide as the purple and yellow bruises receded, disappearing completely in mere moments.  A surge of energy revitalized her tired muscles.

Tentatively, she took another sip.  It was just as disgusting the second time.

“My apologies, doctor,” she muttered.  “A misunderstanding.”

For the third time, the doctor cleared his throat to break up the ensuing, uncomfortable silence.  “Quite alright, Ms. Windstrom,” he said.  “For future reference, our healing comes in many forms.  Next time, you may specify your preferred method.”

Whirda set the bottle aside, eyeing it warily.  

“However, with the loss of PepsiMan, Syntech finds itself in search of some… promotional opportunities.”

“PepsiMan?” Whirda asked.

“The mascot for PepsiCo,” the doctor said, “responsible for marketing the company’s products to viewers of Dante’s Abyss.”

“What happened to him?”

“He stood in as a competitor in Dante’s Abyss.”  The doctor cleared his throat again, a sound with which both women were quickly growing tired.  “He died… well, insofar as a Prime is capable of dying.  It will be many weeks before he can return to his duties.”

Whirda and Yuuka said nothing, both beginning to suspect the doctor’s motives.

Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, the suddenly sweaty doctor regarded them each in turn.  “I don’t suppose you might be interested in assuming his duties?”

While Whirda could not deny that she indeed feel much better, something the doctor said came back to her.  “You said this… Pepsi only has healing properties inside Dante’s Abyss?” she asked.

The doctor nodded.

“So outside Dante’s Abyss, it is merely a beverage?”

“Yes.  In the other Verses, people enjoy Pepsi for its cool, refreshing taste alone.”

Whirda barked a harsh laugh.  “You ask me to advertise this foul beverage for you?  I would not wish this… Pepsi on my most hated enemy.”  She stood abruptly, moving to leave the office and return to her quarters.  

Sighing, the doctor gave her a resigned look.  “I understand, Ms. Windstrom,” he said.  “In truth—” he leaned in close, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone—“in truth, I share your opinion of the stuff.  I only ask because Mr. Jak is desperate to find a replacement.  PepsiCo is our biggest sponsor, as I said.  It pays to be in Mr. Jak’s good graces.”  He offered her a sly wink.  “The… medical technology Syntech possesses is… extensive.”

The meaning of the doctor’s words were not lost on Whirda.  Karl Jak, the owner of Syntech and the host of Dante’s Abyss, was the very man Whirda sought audience with when she entered the competition.  Tia Dalma had named him as the only man who could provide a cure for the sickness visited upon her by Ahn’Thrix.  

“A moment, doctor?” she asked, motioning that she and Yuuka needed some privacy.  “I must discuss this with my partner.  Neither of the Primes missed the eager gleam in the doctor’s eye as he backed out of the room.

“You’re considering this?” Yuuka asked skeptically, the moment the door closed with a quiet click.

“I am.”  Whirda glanced down to her feet before continuing.  “Sadly, I must.  If I tell the doctor yes, will you agree?”

Yuuka smirked.  “A few minutes ago you had me against the wall by my throat.  A few minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to continue fighting with you by my side.  And now you ask me to accompany you on this parade of stupidity?”

Suppressing a flash of anger at the green-haired Youkai’s reprisal, Whirda drew a deep breath, falling back within herself to the core of discipline she had cultivated through decades of fighting.  When she answered, her voice was soft and measured.  “I joined Dante’s Abyss to earn the favor of Karl Jak.  To ask him to cure the shade’s curse.  It is why I must win… at all costs.”

“And it is why my methods cause you such anger,” Yuuka said, easily following Whirda’s logic.

Whirda nodded.  “I cannot afford any imprecision.”

The green-haired Youkai stared at Whirda, her normally unshakable visage tinged with concern and understanding.  In that moment, the two Primes felt a kinship, a sense of allegiance they had not carried with them into their first battle.  “If you tell the doctor yes,” Yuuka murmured, holding Whirda’s gaze, “I will agree.”

“Thank you,” Whirda said.  She tapped lightly on the door, signalling that the doctor should re-enter his office.

The sweaty, bespectacled man slipped back into the room, his eyes darting nervously between the two Primes.  Unprompted, he cleared his throat softly, waiting for one of the contestants to speak.

“I have… reconsidered your offer, doctor” Whirda said evenly.  “That is, we have reconsidered.  It will be our pleasure to represent PepsiCo for the remainder of the tournament, if that is Karl Jak’s wish.”

As if Whirda had lifted an immense weight from his shoulders with her words, the doctor heaved a huge sigh and flashed a broad grin.  His fingers darted across the device for a few seconds before he spoke.  “Excellent!  A wise decision, Ms. Windstrom.  Mr. Jak will be pleased.”

The doctor cleared his throat.  

“Now,” he said, “there is just the matter of arranging an interview.”