Good Deeds

[Jams Bolero]

Ambrosia's orchards held a variety of fruits, most of which Jams had never seen before.  Some looked like apples, but came in about every color in the rainbow; others were completely alien in appearance, and the rest were something in between.  The inhabitants were also rather different, appearing as not only humans but also bipedal animals or fairies.  Jams's imagination was instantly inspired by these people, and was nearly compelled to introduce Eric and himself to them.  However, Eric pointed his gaze to a pink manor that peeked just over the buildings.  It was then that they realized where they were, and promptly headed towards the center of town.

As they walked deeper into the city, it shifted in time frame quite suddenly.  What was once akin to (as Jams could describe) a medieval hamlet transformed into a burgeoning modern maze of streets.  The populace had not changed in physique, but a great deal of them notably owned some sort of phone or other electronic device and wore comfortable clothes.  A great deal of stores were set up for a variety of purposes, from musical instruments to general stores and many others.  The road was packed with cars and even some carriages, oddly enough.  

Getting closer to the center of Ambrosia, the greys and pearly whites of the city limits gave way to red brick buildings and wooden abodes.  Those closer to the new town had a tendency to come equipped with large steel machinations, but the center of Ambrosia was much closer to the outskirts in design.  Similarly, the people here were more old-timey, donning vests or even early European attire.  The most advanced articles in their possession amounted typically to pocket watches or the likes.

Jams and Eric walked through a ring of jungle trees and arrived at the front door to the pink manor.  It appeared far larger up close, and that was including its visibility throughout town.  In the front were two guards in glittery pink armor.  It may have just been the pink armor, but they seemed rather friendly.  Jams turned to Eric and asked "You'd figure the person who leads this place would be a must-see for settling down, right?"

[Guu]

“Princess Guu is out of town, but Second-in-Command Sylvia Black is available to take your request.”

“Awesome!” Exclaimed Jams as one of the guards stepped through the large wooden palace doors.



Sylvia had a lot on her mind. It wasn’t just the weight of her responsibilities now that Guu was out of town. It wasn’t just the business forms she had to look through, the requests from the township, or the complaints about the ever pranksters mafia. It wasn’t just picking more applicants for the military.

All of those were a factor, but one thing clouded her judgement: Molly

This 11-year-old girl just took off for the Vasty Deeps without consulting her. She claimed to bring Pinkie Pie along with her as a chaperone, but she wasn’t sure anymore. When the child you’re looking after lies, you begin to question what they even say is truth anymore.

She could only imagine the killer robots that could be stalking her down in the coruscant territory. We’ve all heard the rumors after all. But it’s not just that, the predators that could be hunting for their next vulnerable target. The thought was bone chilling.

A tingle goes down her spine. Molly could be in danger, but she can’t leave Ambrosia. She can’t leave. Molly’s in danger and she can’t leave.

“Miss?”

The voice interrupted her downward spiral. The guard from before was clasping her shoulder, a look of concern on his face.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I was just worried about-”

She stopped herself, maybe she shouldn’t be sharing her personal life with the guards.

Not that it mattered.

“I understand, I have a daughter too.”

“She’s technically not my-”

“Anyways, these two men wanted to talk to you about starting a business.”

Jams walked up to Sylvia, his arms raised as if he were going to conduct an orchestra.

“See, I hope to open a business her in Ambrosia!” He said gleefully, or at least a faked gleefulness to mask his nervousness of performing a literal pitch to a leader of a kingdom. “And if you’re skeptical, let me pitch my idea! So I want to build a soda empor-”

“Approved.” Sylvia interrupted.

“What?” Jams said looking puzzled.

“If you think you’re business will do well here, and you don’t plan to cause trouble, just pick an empty storefront and go ahead, or summon one in a vacant spot” She said, kind of plain and cold, but her expression quickly switched to a smile. “What was your names?”

“I’m Jams, and my friend here is named Eric!”

“Well, Jams and Eric, welcome to Ambrosia! Hope your business does well.”

[Soldier 75]

 Echoes rang through the street as Jams and Eric stepped outside the pink castle. Eric's companion pulled out his flip-phone. The two began to stroll back down the street, but were abruptly confronted by the yell of a guard. Jams stopped and turned to the voice. However, Eric continued several steps before realizing something was amiss. He too swiveled to face the guard, who had just caught up. Huffing, he held his hand up while he paused to catch his breath. He straightened, still panting slightly, and reached into his voluminous pockets "I have something for you two," he gasped. His hand withdrew, holding two small metal pads with embedded screens. "My superior says that you two are setting up business in the city. My superior in turn was told to inform you of this: you have been granted access to the palace medical center, the dataverse uplink, and finally, the recall station. This last part is where these devices come in handy. Our recall app is already installed, allowing you to return to Ambrosia from any verse." He started to hand one to Jams. He, however waved it away, responding, "Nah, I got one." Jams said, holding up his flip-phone.

The guard turned his attention to the hooded mage, and pocketed one device as he offered the second. Eric took hold of the tablet. Several buttons lay upon the blocky sides, with a small impression on the top. The black screen caught the light at an angle, shining a bright beam into his eyes. Smiling, he playfully flashed the light towards Jams. He began to walk away from the mansion, twiddling with the various buttons. Jams soon followed, leaving the guard to walk back to his post. "I think I saw some places down there we could check out. Somewhere closer to the f-ancy modern area," at this Jams posed dramatically, before continuing, "would be nice." He pointed to astreet on the left. Eric mumbled an agreement, still experimenting with the device. The duo set down off the side-road, searching for a suitable location.
 
They stood in front of what appeared to be a large decrepit store. Eric peered inside the windows, noting trash littered across the floor. The heavy wooden door refused to budge, but he managed to force it open after a minute. The interior was dimly lit. The mage beckoned Bolero to join him. "Would you prefer to explore the outside or join me in venturing inside?" Jams appeared to be thinking for a moment before replying, "Well we gotta start somewhere. C'mon!" Eric held open the door while Jams entered, and set out into the murky darkness.

[Jams Bolero]

Inside, it became obvious that whoever owned this establishment prior has not recently paid rent.  It looked to be an auditorium, but everything was so caked in dust it looked more like an abandoned museum exhibit from the twenties.  On the left end of the building was a stage large enough to hold a small concert band.  Its silver oak floorboards were well worn, several having popped out of place and threatening to trip any daring actors who tried to perform.  Then again, chances are they would fall through before they could get caught on the planks, seeing as how the left side of the stage front had a worn-out speaker and the right had a distinct hole in the floor.   Red velvet curtains,  partially fallen and dust-ridden, made the entire scene appear all the more disparaging.  Across the stage on the other end of the building was a bar.  Simple shelves, a wine rack, four stools and a counter which opened toward the front entrance were all that was left of it, as it had probably been looted long ago.  In the center of the room were eight tables with anywhere from zero to four chairs each, probably 23 in total.  Another table and many, many chair parts were scattered in the back corner behind the bar, broken from extensive use.  As if a cat slept in a pile of laundry, the black carpet floor of the auditorium was littered in trash, residue and broken glass.  Taking a few steps forward, it proved both willing to stick your feet to it and stick itself to your feet at sporadic moments.  Assuming one does not own shoes, at least.  The chandelier above was dim, clearly in need of several new light bulbs.  It probably just needed replacing, as the entire thing looked willing to fall down any moment.  After all, several of the panels in the grid-like ceiling have fallen out already, so it would be best to just scrap it entirely.  Actually, it would be best to scrap nearly everything whose main issue was beyond the grace of a feather duster.

Jams pulled out his broom and began to sweep up a bit of the garbage, not to actually clear the floor like a responsible gentleman but so he could get to the bar and investigate.  As he drew near, he noticed there were various objects on its surface that he noticed.  At the first stool closest to the entrance, there was a stack of poker chips beside a slip of paper, clearly a receipt.  A shot glass sat in front of the third stool, with stains from where trace amounts of booze had dried away.  One could see where the bartender served his last drink through the caked dust on the counter, though only barely.  Upon further inspection of the shelves, as well as the cabinets underneath which were obscured by the bar from a distance, he presumed that there was no more alcohol.  Oh that's sad, he thought, I coulda sold it and try to renovate the place.  Staying persistent, however, he knocked on the back of the cabinet walls and found a secret compartment with three bottles of wine.  Jams beamed.  “Ooh, this is interesting!  If they hid it away, it must be good stuff, huh Eric?”  

No response came, so Jams called again.  However, when he turned to look at the mage, Eric was not there.  The lad figured he had gone out to investigate the district a bit, or perhaps longed to learn more about the world and decided to part ways.  It would have been nice to at least say goodbye, though...  Jams lingered on the thought a bit, but remembered that there would still be plenty of people to talk to.  After all, he had “met” Jade that one time, and he could probably make a few friends here in town.  Feeling inspired, he took it upon himself to clean the auditorium to the best of his ability.

After about an hour of hard work, all of the trash on the floor was swept into a neat pile atop some blank paper that was laying by the stage.  All of the broken furniture was sat up near the front entrance, not yet taken out because Jams quickly realized how little he had investigated the surroundings.  He realized he didn't know where the dumpster is, and he hadn't a clue as to the layout of the city.  Before taking the furniture outside, the lad walked out of the bar and searched for the nearest garbage bin.

[Soldier 75]

Bolero sauntered out of the run-down building, scanning the street for any signs of a dumpster. None, however, showed themselves. To his left the road continued off into the distance, and to the right an intersection of streets created an open square, and standing in the middle was what seemed to be some sort of notice board. That might be a good place to start. He began crossing the square, but the silence was disturbed by a ringing voice.

"Come, look at this." The kid practically jumped, startled out of his thoughts, but upon examining his surroundings, glimpsed no source for the voice. "Over here!" Jams turned around to see the pale face of Everstorm, who was peeking out from behind the board. "I found something quite intriguing over here." The mage disappeared back behind the wood, leaving Jams to circle around the board. As he swung around, he saw multitudes of paper smothering the board; not one inch was left exposed. There were official government notices, announcements for community event, and, most interesting, a vast majority comprised of requests for help.

"There looks to be a ton of people asking for help!", Jams exclaimed. "I wonder... after we're done fixing up the place, maybe assisting the townsfolk would gain us some publicity?"

"Perhaps we could..." Eric's train of thought had derailed, and he was left searching for words that had vanished into thin air. A feral growl issued forth from his stomach, distracting him even further. "Bah, I can't think when I'm hungry. I'm off to arrange my dinner, you may stay if you want." Eric walked back to the decrepit establishment, pushing his way through the creaking doors. Bolero sauntered out of the run-down building, scanning the street for any signs of a dumpster. None, however, showed themselves. To his left the road continued off into the distance, and to the right an intersection of streets created an open square, and standing in the middle was what seemed to be some sort of notice board.

[Jams Bolero]

The board, while plastered with all sorts of community notices, was not entirely smothered in paper.  Yes, the best spots were taken, but people had kept their posters mostly confined to the center, leaving ample room on the rim.  Jams already knew what to call the bar, but needed to take a moment to think of the poster's design.  After about a minute, he wasted another partially summoning a pencil, before realizing he could just summon the poster and some thumbtacks instead.  When the deed was done, an azure poster with a silver-leaved blue tree read:

THE COBALT OAK
Soda Bar and Auditorium!
Opens Tomorrow Morning.

Before leaving, he noticed an old man taking out the trash.  The elder seemed to be in pain, as he was doubled over his cane like he was afflicted with kyphosis.  "Hold on, sir!" Jams ran over to help.  "How about you let me take the trash for you?"

The old man gave him a slightly preturbed look, but melted to cheer quickly.  "Why, thank ye sunny!  This ol' backbone's been givin' me troubles of late."

"You're welcome, sir!"

"Say, I don' recognize ye.  You new in town?"  The elder thrusted his cane towards the lad.

"Yes sir, I'm Jams Bolero!  My friend Eric and I just opened up shop recently."  He pointed toward the ramshackle bar.

"I see, you two are starting a business, eh?  Seem a tad young for it."  The elder leered at the bar.  "Then again, only the foolish youth would rent out a space like that."  He gave an indignant glare at Jams.  "You don't mean to tell me you're gonna sell BOOZE now, boy?"

Jams was shaking in his sneakers.  "Oh, no, we plan to sell soda and host gigs and stuff, we didn't know that place was bad..."

"The old man burst into laughter.  "Hah hah, oh, I didn't mean anything by it, young 'un.  That bar's been in the can for a long ol' time!  Sorry to make ye feel bad.  So, soda?  You'll need a better lookin' front door if you want to rope in company, even if ye knew what advertisin' meant."

"Oh, uh, of course sir.  I just cleaned up the trash, in fact I was going to toss out mine, but then I came over to help you."

"Yes yes, you know where the bin is, right?"

"Uh, no sir."

A finger pointed right of the signpost.  "See that alley?  Head down there, and take a left.  Your bar should have a backdoor, and if it doesn't, get one.  Never have just one entryway, especially if you plan to have some gigs over, as ya said."

"Ok, sir.  Oh!  What's your name, by the way?"

"Ah, the name's Smitty MacGuffin.  A pleasure to meet ye, and many thanks for taking the trash for me.  If ye and that friend of yours ever get that place tidied up, perhaps I aught to humor you two boys."

"Alright, take care sir!"  Mr. MacGuffin trodded back to his house as Jams carried the trash over to the dumpster.  When he got back, Eric sat at the door with his jaw agape.

[Soldier 75]

"You're a genius!" Eric exclaimed, accidentally knocking his chair over as he rose. Jams stared, confused by his companion's excitement. But before he could say a word, the mage continued, "That is all we must do! If we assist the community, we will garner a good reputation, and news of our establishment will spread by word of mouth." Eric's grin widened. "Now, let us look at that notice board once more!"


Everstorm briskly strolled outside, followed by Bolero. Eric walked up to the aged wood, and began to closely inspect the posted sheets. He was already deeply focused by the time Jams joined him. The latter glanced over the board, reading a few words here and there. Eric took hold of a newer sheet, ripping it off. He exclaimed to Jams,"Take a look at this!" Handwritten words spelled out a plea for help, asking for any that would help the asker clear his cellar."This seems like it might be a suitable start! What say you?"

[Jams Bolero]

Jams agreed with that sentiment, and soon the duo walked off down the alley.  So far, they had one potential customer, and all from just helping him out.  Perhaps this could really get business rolling.  As they walked, it wasn't long before they realized they had no idea where the location was in the slightest.  “Hey Eric, you know where we're going, right?”

Eric glanced at his friend.  “Of course.  We are headed to 1147 Denim Drive.”

“How are we gonna get there?”

“I haven't a clue.”

“Figures.”  Jams threw his hands in the air.

“Do not worry, Jams, this is a big city.  That was probably not the only notice board, so the address ought to be around this area.”

Jams gave an exasperated sigh.  He's probably right, so hopefully this won't take long.  Patience was never the boy's strong suit.

---

Thirty minutes later...

---

The two finally made it to their destination, Jams slumping on the ground from exhaustion.  All the exercise from the forest, and he could not walk for a steady thirty minutes.  Then again, he and Eric did take a few breaks on their woodland expedition as opposed to walking for a steady half hour across the brick roads of the city.  Nonetheless, the young mage knocked on the door thrice and was greeted by their client.  He was a large humanoid feline, about four foot six with a thin, swaying tail and grey fur.  He wore a simple black jacket and denim shorts, with a blue scarf  wrapped around his neck.  It was hard to tell (having not seen many bipedal cats in his time and all), but Jams could have sworn he had bags under his eyes.  He spoke softly yet surely.  “Can I help you?”

Jams motioned for Eric to go, and so he did.  “Hello, I am Eric.  This is Jams.”  He waved to his associate.  “We set up a nearby establishment, and-”

The man went to shut the door.  “Sorry, I'm not interested.”

Jams took a step forward.  “Wait, we're here to help!”  He held up the flier for help.

“Oh, I see.  Come on in.”

---

The duo entered his abode, filled with a rather ramshackle assortment of furniture and heirlooms.  There was enough dust to make Jams cough up a hairb- er, a lung.  Eric was largely unphased by the state of the house, asking his host about the job at hand as they walked down the hall.

“I've got some rats in the cellar, and they have been wrecking my stuff for a week now.  I need someone to get rid of them.”

“We would be glad to help you with that.”  Eric stood by two large wooden doors sloped up from the floor, a rather generic- but effective- entrance to any given basement.

Jams, not thinking or considering the outcome at all, asked “But you're a cat, don't you guys hunt rodents?”  The client gave him a stare that could make the moon explode.  The look on his face prompted Jams to beg forgiveness.  “Oh, jeez, I'm sorry!  Wa-was that a bad thing to ask?”  No response.  “O-oh...  I-I'll just... go... over here...”  Jams slouched over to the other room, leaving Eric with the feline.

“Is your friend normally racist?”

“Not usually.  He probably did not mean anything by it, we've not been in the Omniverse for very long.  I'm honestly surprised you did not told him to leave.”

“I'm used to stuff like that these days.  Besides, maybe he can help around the house while you work down here.”

“He did bring a broom with him, after all.  So how many rats are down there?”

[Soldier 75]

The feline sighed. “I don’t know, but there’s a good amount of ‘em. Probably at least five if I were to guess.”

“That sounds manageable.” the mage murmured. “Do you have any idea whatsoever as to the origin of these rats?” Knowing where the vermin were coming from would make Eric’s job a lot easier. And besides, he was not sure if it would be fine to move any of the man’s belongings in the search, but he thought it might be a tad awkward to bring it up. However, Everstorm did not have to worry.

“No idea, so feel free to look behind some things. Just don’t open anything. The door is down that hallway.” The cat extended his paw towards an opening to Eric’s right. He turned as if to follow Jams, but glanced back at Eric. “If you need anything else, just give me a shout. Alright?” He walked briskly into the confines of his home, cutting off Eric’s reply.

At that moment the mage realized he had no idea how to deal with the job he had volunteered for.

Oh well, I may acquire some useful knowledge from this.

He strolled across the entrance hall, kicking up enough dust to distort the room. A mop was leaning across the doorframe, as dirty as the floor. Eric gently moved it aside, but could not avoid choking on the dust he had already disturbed.

Sputtering, he lurched down the hallway. An assortment of knickknacks and household items lay strewn about the place, and Eric nearly tripped over an old stool. Finally reaching the door to what was presumably the basement, he shoved it open and entered the clear air beyond. He took care to close it to block out the dust, but let some air in.

Everstorm, still slightly coughing, led himself down the creaking stairs. The basement seemed to be a bit of an improvement to upstairs, but at a glance it looked to be as neglected as the house above. The light spilling through the crack in the door dimly illuminated the room, allowing Eric to see, at least a little. Boxes were haphazardly stacked against one wall, threatening to come crashing down at any moment, while a trio of squatting barrels sat in a corner, their half-decayed shells sagging. Two large tables dominated the last two walls, with various tidbits laying upon them.

Surveying the walls, Eric saw no sign of rats. He decided to check behind the two tables first, but his attempts to move the tables were to no avail. Surrendering, he stowed his robes in his bag, and lay down to look under one of the tables. As his eyes started to adjust, something dark flashed across his view; but when he turned to gaze at where he had lost track of it, he saw not a thing. He quickly took a quick peek under the other table, but nothing else appeared.

He regained his feet. Dirt and dust caked the mage’s white tunic, but he did not seem to notice. His footsteps echoed throughout the room as he hurriedly crossed to the stack of boxes. Quickly moving some off the cardboard mountain, he began to uncover the dark brick wall lying behind it. However, before he could set down the last box, it slipped out of his hands and crashed to the floor. Cursing himself, Eric stooped to scoop up the contents.

Two framed photographs had fallen out of the box, and curiosity got the better of the magician. Both were similar, simple portraits likely taken on the same background. In one a young male kitten mischievously grinned at the camera. In the other, an ecstatic cream-colored female showed a huge smile. Suddenly conscious that he was snooping, Eric deposited them back into their box and this time laid it down gently.

Regaining his sense of urgency, the mage dragged away the last remaining box, stopping as it revealed a crumbling hole in the wall. Practically dolphin-diving onto the floor, Eric glimpsed several hissing rats crouching in the space. They jumped towards the entrance to their lair, but a blazing fireball smashed into the group. Eric already had his sword drawn and ready as he again looked into the depths of the nest. Three crispy rats had fallen about the chamber, and no others appeared.

However, something glistened at the back of the cave. Without a second thought Eric reached his hand inside, and scooped out the object. A portrait identical to the two, differentiated by its broken glass front, lay in his hand. In it was a faded picture of a pretty she-cat with a large pink bow wrapped around her snow-white neck.

I wonder if Mike has been looking for this? I better bring it to his attention.

Eric started off back up the stairs, clutching his discovery in his hands.

[Soldier 75]

Eric Everstorm walked through the dusty hallway littered haphazardly with items, clutching a forgotten photograph and pondering forgotten things of his own. His loping strides led him back to the living room as turmoil brewed within his mind. Bolero spotted him and walked over as Eric beckoned.

“Jams, there is something of importance I must attend to back at the tavern. Tell Michael I succeeded in my task, and that I discovered this within the rats’ nest.”

Eric handed the picture the surprised Jams, and without waiting for a response, the mage hurried out the door, heading towards the tavern.

Anyone who might enter the tavern later would have noticed a note, a yellowing piece of parchment ripped from a book, attached to the doorframe. If they chose to examine it, they would find a flowing script that read thus:

Dear Jams,
I want, no, I NEED answers. I was confused when I first stepped foot within this realm, and I sought anyone that might be of assistance. You have been a surprising companion, a kid of high character and adventure. From defeating a giant rock creature, to fetching paper from a clan of ninjas, I have gretly enjoyed your companionship. However, your goals do not align with mine. I have no recollection of my past, and there is every possibility that there is no way of learning of it. However, this task does not phase me. I am ready to search everywhere, under every rock and in every verse, to discover who I was, nay, who I am. I must depart upon this journey alone, but I wish you the best of luck in all your aspirations.

Your Friend,

Eric Everstorm

This is likely the last post I will ever create with Eric Everstorm. He has been a fun character to get me started within the Omniverse, but ultimately, I gave him almost no room for development and characterization that I believe I would enjoy. It will likely take me a bit (not too long, probably max a few weeks) to get my alternate up and running, who will become my main, and only active Prime within the Omniverse. Thank you to all who I have met and interacted with throughout this journey, especially you, Jams. <3 I would not have had the courage and drive to continue writing without you. I’ll still be on the forums, soon under a new name. As Arnold Schwarzenegger put it: “I’ll be back.”