10-21-2015, 07:44 PM
Sinestro gently leaned to the side, peering over Orion’s shoulder into the streets behind him. His eyes narrowed when the Impala peeled around one of the aging wooden structures, a bloodied ghoul pinned to the passenger’s side door, a long trail of dirt washing out behind the tires. When the muscle car ceased its drifting, the ghoul’s momentum sent it sailing off, slamming into the dirt and rolling to a stop.
Dean kicked the door open, the First Blade already bloody in his hand, and slid over the hood with a jump. The radiation-plagued marauder struggled with shattered limbs to escape the sociopathic demon, screaming in terror as he bore down upon him, stabbing wildly into his chest and neck. The creature’s blood splattered over the dirt, and glowed with radioactive potency.
Dean’s eyebrows cinched in confusion, but he simply wiped the jawbone over his jeans a few times after he stood, sliding his weapon back into its sheath. He gestured with his chin to the deputy and grunted, “Hey.”
The freshly-reinstated Lantern nodded to his partner, “Dean.”
The hunter pointed to the man’s new yellow jumpsuit and smirked, “What’s with the gimp suit? Did you get into some kinky shit while I was away?” He laughed at his own joke and then allowed his blackened eyes to flash at the warrior that stood beside the Lawman. “And who’s this guy?”
“I am an elite saiyan warrior,” Orion glowered as he barked his reply.
“Sayin’ what?” Dean scoffed, holding a hand to his ear.
“This is Orion,” Sinestro interrupted in an attempt to diffuse any blossoming animosity. “And I have reclaimed my ring,” he said, holding up the gleaming yellow object on his finger.
“Ah,” Dean grinned, his sclera clearing to a more normal color as he stopped, standing in front of the deputy, “that must have been that big-ass yellow beam I saw.”
“Likely,” Sinestro agreed. “I believe the majority of the town has been cleared out, but one last check could-“
The saiyan pushed past Dean and held up his hand, a brilliant sphere of blue ki instant firing from his palm. The dune buggy that had erupted from the sandy exterior of the city swerved to avoid it, tipping over and rolling to a stop a few meters away.
Dean’s hand had already found its weapon as he dashed forward into the wreckage, prying the driver out by her thick leather jacket, jamming the crooked edge of the weapon into the woman’s shoulders and neck. So consumed by the onslaught, his lust for blood drowning out everything but the violence, Dean barely had time to notice the passenger moving up behind him.
Amber beams of light swirled around the aggressor’s hands, crushing down and transforming into rough manacles. Sinestro jerked in the beam, tugging the raider from his path and into the air, holding him dangling like a fish on a line over Dean’s head. With an idle flick of the wrist, the lantern flung the man into the air, sending him soaring over a building. The man screamed as he fell, though it abruptly came to an end somewhere out of site.
“So,” the korugaran said dryly, the streets now seemingly quiet, “shall we?”
What little remained of the bar was coated in gore, bodies and bullet-holes, broken glass crunching underfoot as the trio of men entered. A disconcerting hum filled the air as a nearby table and three chairs were given a yellow aura, Sinestro righting them and setting them down just beside the bar. The chairs slid out politely before the light of his diminished, retracting into Sinestro’s hand.
Orion cautiously eyed the ring, wondering at the strange and multifaceted abilities of the construct as they each sauntered over to the worn wooden furniture and took a seat. “Before we start,” he ventured, “what is that ring that you are wearing? How does it allow you to manipulate ki?”
“It is a Qwardian Power Ring,” the red-skinned man clarified, “and it does not harness ‘ki.’” He held his fist out, the metallic surface of his beloved tool glinting with the light of the distant flames that licked at the sky outside the window. “It is a weapon, created to harness one particular frequency of the emotional spectrum. In the case of my ring, that is the emotion of fear, represented by yellow.” He retracted his hand and carefully folded it into the other, looking back and forth between his companions in arms. “I formed a military force around the use of these rings back in my home sector. We patrols the universe, bringing order where the more timid failed to do so.”
Dean gestured at the bar with his bloody finger. “Well can that thing get us some drinks?” he said, his rough voice grinding against his throat. “I’ve been parched since twenty minutes ago.”
Squinting at the hunter, Sinestro couldn’t help but smirk at his wild impertinence. “Of course,” he said warmly, though an edge could be heard on the fringes. A pair of glasses and a tall bottle of whiskey slid through the air and planted themselves in front of the group. “Have your fill.”
Sliding the topper out of the bottle, Dean filled his glass almost to the rim, greedily chugging half of it down, wiping his chin with his sleeve when he was finished. Orion slowly unfolded his arms and placed his hands on the table. “Won’t you join us?” he asked suspiciously, his one good eye glaring into him.
“Alcohol dulls the mind,” the korugaran replied sharply, returning the saiyan’s harsh look, “Though I suppose I could lift the glass in celebration.” He leaned down, pulling a canteen of the lower half of a bisected raider. He filled a quarter of his glass with the brown liquor and filled the rest of the cup with water, then discarded the canteen dispassionately.
Orion grabbed the bottle and splashed the liquor into his cup, raising it to his nose and sniffing. “It smells a bit weak,” he interjected.
“To victory,” Sinestro offered as cheers, and the group of defenders tapped their glasses.
Orion easily finished his drink and coolly put it back down. “So, let’s talk about the Omniverse.”
“Yes,” the lantern grinned, “let’s.” He took a slow sip off the top of his drink and then spoke firmly, “Ring, display retrieved data on the Omniverse.”
Deep shadows were cast around the room when the Qwardian technology emitted a translucent golden hologram over the table. The image slowly spun, allowing each of them to see the image of the eight spokes that radiated from the central hub, easily recognized by all as the fountain.
“OMNIVERSE,” the device began, its harsh feminine voice peaking-out into static as it continued, “A SELF-CONTAINED UNIVERSE WITH NO KNOWN MEANS OF EGRESS.” Orion’s scowl deepened, and she snatched the bottle from the center of the table, taking a heavy swig.
“ALL OF THE OMNIVERSE’S RECORDED HISTORY BEGINS TEN YEARS AGO, AND IT IS ASSUMED THAT IT WAS EITHER CREATED, OR RESET, AT THAT TIME. THERE ARE EIGHT PRIMARY ‘VERSES’- LARGE AREAS WHICH SHARE A COMMON THEMATIC ELEMENT, CONNECTED TO THE CENTRAL VERSE, KNOWN AS ‘THE NEXUS.’”
Sinestro idly preened his mustache as he listened, gently rolling the tips between his fingers. “What are those Verses?”
“THE CURRENT STANDARD VERSES ARE: CORRUSCANT, CAMELOT, THE ENDLESS DUNES, THE TANGLED GREEN, THE VASTY DEEP, THE PALE MOORES, THE ASHEN STEPPES, AND THE FROZEN FIELDS. ASIDE THE STANDARD VERSES, THE DATAVERSE, THE VOID, THE OVERVERSE, AND THE UNDERVERSE ARE ACCESSABLE BY MEANS OTHER THAN THE NEXUS.”
Dean looked back and forth between the hologram and the ring-bearer. “What the hell does it mean, no egress?”
The deputy shrugged, “I would assume it means that there’s no way out.”
“Damn straight,” a gruff voice answered from the doorway, Roland’s broad outline dominating the frame. “There ain’t no way in nor out this place that any kin ponder. Plenty tried.” He pushed his way into the brightness of the ring’s light. “More failed.”
Dean kicked the door open, the First Blade already bloody in his hand, and slid over the hood with a jump. The radiation-plagued marauder struggled with shattered limbs to escape the sociopathic demon, screaming in terror as he bore down upon him, stabbing wildly into his chest and neck. The creature’s blood splattered over the dirt, and glowed with radioactive potency.
Dean’s eyebrows cinched in confusion, but he simply wiped the jawbone over his jeans a few times after he stood, sliding his weapon back into its sheath. He gestured with his chin to the deputy and grunted, “Hey.”
The freshly-reinstated Lantern nodded to his partner, “Dean.”
The hunter pointed to the man’s new yellow jumpsuit and smirked, “What’s with the gimp suit? Did you get into some kinky shit while I was away?” He laughed at his own joke and then allowed his blackened eyes to flash at the warrior that stood beside the Lawman. “And who’s this guy?”
“I am an elite saiyan warrior,” Orion glowered as he barked his reply.
“Sayin’ what?” Dean scoffed, holding a hand to his ear.
“This is Orion,” Sinestro interrupted in an attempt to diffuse any blossoming animosity. “And I have reclaimed my ring,” he said, holding up the gleaming yellow object on his finger.
“Ah,” Dean grinned, his sclera clearing to a more normal color as he stopped, standing in front of the deputy, “that must have been that big-ass yellow beam I saw.”
“Likely,” Sinestro agreed. “I believe the majority of the town has been cleared out, but one last check could-“
The saiyan pushed past Dean and held up his hand, a brilliant sphere of blue ki instant firing from his palm. The dune buggy that had erupted from the sandy exterior of the city swerved to avoid it, tipping over and rolling to a stop a few meters away.
Dean’s hand had already found its weapon as he dashed forward into the wreckage, prying the driver out by her thick leather jacket, jamming the crooked edge of the weapon into the woman’s shoulders and neck. So consumed by the onslaught, his lust for blood drowning out everything but the violence, Dean barely had time to notice the passenger moving up behind him.
Amber beams of light swirled around the aggressor’s hands, crushing down and transforming into rough manacles. Sinestro jerked in the beam, tugging the raider from his path and into the air, holding him dangling like a fish on a line over Dean’s head. With an idle flick of the wrist, the lantern flung the man into the air, sending him soaring over a building. The man screamed as he fell, though it abruptly came to an end somewhere out of site.
“So,” the korugaran said dryly, the streets now seemingly quiet, “shall we?”
----
What little remained of the bar was coated in gore, bodies and bullet-holes, broken glass crunching underfoot as the trio of men entered. A disconcerting hum filled the air as a nearby table and three chairs were given a yellow aura, Sinestro righting them and setting them down just beside the bar. The chairs slid out politely before the light of his diminished, retracting into Sinestro’s hand.
Orion cautiously eyed the ring, wondering at the strange and multifaceted abilities of the construct as they each sauntered over to the worn wooden furniture and took a seat. “Before we start,” he ventured, “what is that ring that you are wearing? How does it allow you to manipulate ki?”
“It is a Qwardian Power Ring,” the red-skinned man clarified, “and it does not harness ‘ki.’” He held his fist out, the metallic surface of his beloved tool glinting with the light of the distant flames that licked at the sky outside the window. “It is a weapon, created to harness one particular frequency of the emotional spectrum. In the case of my ring, that is the emotion of fear, represented by yellow.” He retracted his hand and carefully folded it into the other, looking back and forth between his companions in arms. “I formed a military force around the use of these rings back in my home sector. We patrols the universe, bringing order where the more timid failed to do so.”
Dean gestured at the bar with his bloody finger. “Well can that thing get us some drinks?” he said, his rough voice grinding against his throat. “I’ve been parched since twenty minutes ago.”
Squinting at the hunter, Sinestro couldn’t help but smirk at his wild impertinence. “Of course,” he said warmly, though an edge could be heard on the fringes. A pair of glasses and a tall bottle of whiskey slid through the air and planted themselves in front of the group. “Have your fill.”
Sliding the topper out of the bottle, Dean filled his glass almost to the rim, greedily chugging half of it down, wiping his chin with his sleeve when he was finished. Orion slowly unfolded his arms and placed his hands on the table. “Won’t you join us?” he asked suspiciously, his one good eye glaring into him.
“Alcohol dulls the mind,” the korugaran replied sharply, returning the saiyan’s harsh look, “Though I suppose I could lift the glass in celebration.” He leaned down, pulling a canteen of the lower half of a bisected raider. He filled a quarter of his glass with the brown liquor and filled the rest of the cup with water, then discarded the canteen dispassionately.
Orion grabbed the bottle and splashed the liquor into his cup, raising it to his nose and sniffing. “It smells a bit weak,” he interjected.
“To victory,” Sinestro offered as cheers, and the group of defenders tapped their glasses.
Orion easily finished his drink and coolly put it back down. “So, let’s talk about the Omniverse.”
“Yes,” the lantern grinned, “let’s.” He took a slow sip off the top of his drink and then spoke firmly, “Ring, display retrieved data on the Omniverse.”
Deep shadows were cast around the room when the Qwardian technology emitted a translucent golden hologram over the table. The image slowly spun, allowing each of them to see the image of the eight spokes that radiated from the central hub, easily recognized by all as the fountain.
“OMNIVERSE,” the device began, its harsh feminine voice peaking-out into static as it continued, “A SELF-CONTAINED UNIVERSE WITH NO KNOWN MEANS OF EGRESS.” Orion’s scowl deepened, and she snatched the bottle from the center of the table, taking a heavy swig.
“ALL OF THE OMNIVERSE’S RECORDED HISTORY BEGINS TEN YEARS AGO, AND IT IS ASSUMED THAT IT WAS EITHER CREATED, OR RESET, AT THAT TIME. THERE ARE EIGHT PRIMARY ‘VERSES’- LARGE AREAS WHICH SHARE A COMMON THEMATIC ELEMENT, CONNECTED TO THE CENTRAL VERSE, KNOWN AS ‘THE NEXUS.’”
Sinestro idly preened his mustache as he listened, gently rolling the tips between his fingers. “What are those Verses?”
“THE CURRENT STANDARD VERSES ARE: CORRUSCANT, CAMELOT, THE ENDLESS DUNES, THE TANGLED GREEN, THE VASTY DEEP, THE PALE MOORES, THE ASHEN STEPPES, AND THE FROZEN FIELDS. ASIDE THE STANDARD VERSES, THE DATAVERSE, THE VOID, THE OVERVERSE, AND THE UNDERVERSE ARE ACCESSABLE BY MEANS OTHER THAN THE NEXUS.”
Dean looked back and forth between the hologram and the ring-bearer. “What the hell does it mean, no egress?”
The deputy shrugged, “I would assume it means that there’s no way out.”
“Damn straight,” a gruff voice answered from the doorway, Roland’s broad outline dominating the frame. “There ain’t no way in nor out this place that any kin ponder. Plenty tried.” He pushed his way into the brightness of the ring’s light. “More failed.”
![[Image: sig2.jpg]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v288/KrimTheUnsettler/sig2.jpg)