Frostfire

[Miranda Frost]

Le background music. (its not much, just a short post from one of my NPCs perspective enjoy)
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Dear sister.. why did you have to die? Why wasn't I fast enough. I had told you once never to take off your coat so.. why? What did you have to Prove!? I... I-I killed everyone. Our teachers... our rivals... our competition... our leader... our parents, they are all dead... for you...Why aren't you happy? Why won't you come back for me? I feel... lost.. alone. Please.. allow me to die.. allow me to follow you...
Sincerely,

In the world of ash and fire this letter was held. A black gloved hand outstretched over the magma below, threatening to release this message straight to Hell itself. The tear soaked paper rustled in the hot air that flowed from below. Smoke of a thousand souls he had slain drifted over him, tarnishing his armor and blackening his skin. Ashes from every decision he had burned over a lifetime fell over him, bleaching his black hair white if only for a while. Wind blown from across time wrestled away his letter, freeing it to drift forever more among the red skies of vengeance above him. His sloppy handwriting was deformed even more, the ink smearing into an unreadable mess.

The gloved hand let it go, hesitant to make any attempt to retrieve it. After a time the hand stooped low, hanging loosely at his side. The man took a step forward over the pier's rusty grating. Below the souls judged the man who stood above them, spitting forth curses and slander. Tears moisten the man's scarred face, dripping down to the furious depths, but no amount of tears could sate vengeance's thirst.

The trial's verdict came soon. The man clad in black stepped forward, but no platform was there to rest his sore feet, only the emptiness of the sulfuric air around him What would it feel like to face eternal damnation? A sea of hungry souls await him, but will his plea satisfy them? The stale air caressed his battle-scarred face, showing him the image of every bloodstained expression he had ever dared commit his blade against.

In the end, all of creation will be reduced to nothing more than petty ashes. In the end all repent for the sins they commit. In the end... all will mourn in Hell eternal.

I'm coming my dear.. sister. Headfirst...

My dear.. Miranda

Sincerely,

November Frost

[Miranda Frost]

Reality is different from how the mind believes it pictures it. It was the reason why this man threw himself from an over hanging platform into a wide lake of fire and magma hundreds of meters below. As the man fell, his body relaxed as if accepting what was to come. Regrettably, this would not come to fruition.

Pressure increased around the falling man's shoulders. Claws gripped onto his arms hoisting him up just before he took a dip of death. The man didn't flinch. To him an opportunity to repent was stolen from him, and now it seemed such a thing was lost forever. He was brought back up to the pier he had once stood upon just moments before. A man clad in an orange suit awaited him.

The beast dropped him off and flew off into the distance. November knew not what it was, not that he cared anyhow. He stood there, a gloved hand draped over the guard rail. He kept gazing down into the fiery pits below. He sighed and walked on, pushing passed the overly dressed man.

"We need you now more than ever November.... We are still too weak.", the man in Orange said, crossing his arms contently. "You will go with Blue to North Village. There you will convince a prospective member to lend us his strength. Refusal is not an option and i'm afraid.. Blue will not be able to handle it himself."

November stopped and turned, looking over the Mayor with a critical eye. He was sincere. The Mayor meant fully what he said. He could care less what the warrior did once their goal was achieved.

"Fine... I'll keep around until you are finished.. but only then."

[Miranda Frost]

"GROWWWLLNN"

Just outside Orange's head quarters a loud roar rang out. A black dragon that had been resting there for some time after being wounded in battle with a rival bloodline. Mayor Blue, the former UNSC captain of the Paris - class frigate, the Remembrance had found himself here in the world of fire and brimstone, helping out Orange with his schemes. Blue had come across the wounded dragon on the way back from some errands. The dragon, delirious from blood loss, attempted to strike out at the once captain now mayor with no avail. It couldn't muster the strength to pierce his skin, and he knew it. Blue did what he could with the Medigel he had brought along with him, but it was only enough to buy time. The dragon had gotten beaten badly. It suffered from deep lacerations along its body. Its wings were broken and torn.

Blue wasn't heartless enough to leave it to die and could not bring it upon himself to finish it off with his side arm, assuming his bullets could pierce its armor like scales. He rushed back to headquarters and returned with a truck and a small crew of men to transport the hulking lizard back. Once there he was able to give it better medical attention.

It has been about a month since then, and the dragon had grown to enjoy Blue's company as much as Blue enjoyed his.. or rather "Her". Blue had learned to communicate with the dragon with rough draconian tongue. She expressed that she was in fact female, but lets face it, Blue couldn't even tell a Sangielli apart even if they stripped armor in front of him... not that he has ever thought about that.. oh no. Never has he been that curious. Point is.. Blue was clueless. She also allowed them to exchange names, and not even Orange, his comrade for a good while, has done that.

Her name was just too long, so for the men that work for Blue and his comrades, she came to be known as "Skiaran". This seemed too.. alien.. for Blue, who insisted to this day on calling her "Bessie". Although she doesn't quite enjoy being named such a.. human stereotypical name for certain things, she allowed him to, but only him. Others risk being lunch or being turned into human torches.

Back to the topic at hand, this is the second time since her injuries that she had taken the chance to spread her wings and enjoy the sulfuric air across her scales and soar the red skies. This particular time they would be going on a mission, to fetch a new member to their fledgling organization. He didn't really feel safe having "Bessie" take flight, but she insisted on going with him. He really didn't want to argue with her. Geez, why did these relationships have to be so.. complicated?

During her recuperation, Blue had fashioned a leather saddle, dragon leather... go figure, and slung it over and fastening it to her back. She didn't quite like the idea of him riding upon her, but she didn't contest much besides an occasional groan and the slinging of her tail.

But in all seriousness, do NOT tell her the saddle was crafted from dragon leather, her dead comrades specifically. She would be incredibly pissed and not only kill Blue, but also me... her crea- errr I mean.... there is no way a dragon like that could breath the fourth wall like that... right?

They were supposed to meet November there, Orange's pet project. The guy sent an uneasiness through Blue he never felt anywhere else besides in the faster than light space travel known as "Slipspace" travel back home. It was something about the bending of light around his ship that just frightened him. Hardly ever was he on the bridge during slipspace travel, but that is beside the point. The man seemed cold and empty. November's Aura even set off "Bessie". She just couldn't stand him.

The two partners in flight took off, soaring towards their objective.

[Miranda Frost]

What brings about joy in a lifetime? Is it love? Could it perhaps be friendship? Maybe it could be power? Perhaps, perhaps. Or perhaps it was something more... materialistic, something more real. It was something you could touch. Something you could smell. It was something that could be held in the palm of a hand or locked inside a vault. This metaphorical vault could be as big or as small as one wanted. Orange had big plans,, ooohh yes. His vault had no end, and yet he was compelled to fill it to the brim. Only in a world with infinite possibilities as this one could he attempt to fill it.


The mayor propped up his bare feet upon his cleaned off desk, a grin a mile wide on his face. Once his organization commanded a full roster of capable men he would be able to proceed. The key he searched endless for day after day was narrowed down to only a few of Bowser's Castles. The fool of a king, Bowser suspected nothing from a mere mayor of a backwater village such as this one. It was so far out that his taxcollectors and surveyors didn't even visit. He was forgotten, and so was his village. The fool had know idea what was about to happen, that HE, not the Arceus-Damned anthromorphisized turtle-dragon freak that will sit upon that throne.

No, it won't end there. IT would be far from over. Once the Koopa Kingdom had fallen to Orange's feet, he would expand to all of the Ashen plains. Every dragon, every man, woman and child that would be his. Not a single speck of ash wouldn't have his name enscribed in big bold letters and trademarked. Even that wouldn't be the end, he would spread his influence to all of the Omniverse. Once this is complete, he would round up an army of Primes and march upon that so called "God of the Omniverse", Omni. Orange would bend Omni to his will and then all would be his forever.

Just thinking of it sent chuckles up his throat. He was getting excited, too excited. His hand gripped tightly around nothing. It wasn't often that his suitcase wouldn't be at his side in his right hand specifically. Feeling nothing but the cold sweat of his hand made his heart jump. Where was it? It could have been stolen! No. It was leaning against his desk by his feet. His heart slowed down a bit and he took a breath, trying to relax. For the first time in forever his office seemed cold. He felt frozen in time in this place of solitude.

The room was empty save for a wooden desk, fold out chair and a window. His door was just a doorway. The headquarters couldn't quite be finished due to funding issues and some portions of the base still without walls. However for what was built it was built well. The lake of magma was known well to flood occasionally, so the entirety of the first level was coated with a material that resisted temperature change. Nifty stuff, and really expensive.

With a grunt, the leader of the new, nameless organization of his own formulation stood up, grabbing his bright orange suit case and walked over to the window. He had sent Blue and November to fetch a new member. November was.. unstable though. He almost regretted sending him. Blue just wasn't strong enough for this one, Skiaran with him or no. There was still a chance of them being unsuccessful. If this is the case, Orange was fully capable of cutting off Blue and November and starting anew. After all this was all to his design and ambition. Not a damned soul had the right to take it from him.

Another roar of that black dragon and Blue was off, their forms contrasting against the red sky.

[Miranda Frost]

One question "Scar", as the villagers called him, often had to answer was, "Mr. Scar, why are you so strong?". It was a question he loved answering. Such answer generally went along the lines of, "Well son, I always train, but when i'm not, i'm stuffing my face and fighting dragons with my fists.. wanna see my dragontooth necklace?". Joking aside, training was an essential part of his life in the omniverse.

He remembered the day he was brought into this new world. At one moment he was one hundred percent, able to single handedly blast the armies of primitive people into dust, and the next moment he was here, not even five percent of what he once was. He wasn't as durable. The full moon didn't hive him access to his giant Great Ape form. His physical strength demmenished to shameful levels. Even female saiyans could take him down in this state. It was just embarrassing.

After his summoning, he had wandered this desolate wasteland. Food was scarce and water even more so. At some point he fell unconcious and was rescued by the villagers of North village. He woke up in a nice bed and fed as much as he could possibly contain within himself. Honestly, if they hadn't been so careful and kind with him, he would have killed the lot of them and eaten the meat from their bones. They talked and apparently if he fought off the occasional raiders or group of dragons that attacked the village regularly, they would continue to feed him this generously and lend their strongest to help him train. Oh, and he recieved the empty title of Mayor, a house of his own, and an office in the town hall. The town was actually ran by a council represented by the heads of each family that resided there.... but it still counts! He had nearly no responsibility, letting him train, eat, and sleep to his heart's content.

Speaking of which that's where he was, in his office. His first action as Mayor of North Village was to toss out the various chairs, desks, bookcases, and paintings out. The room was plain and featureless. There was nothing in it besides four walls, a cieling, a floor, and a small window. It was perfect for light training when the council wanted him cooped up in there while King Bowser's representitives came to collect taxes and visit. It bothered Scar none. Because of his weak ass body, he had to take occasional days off from his training schedule. A few push during his break couldn't hurt though

"251!....................252!............253!.................2-254..........25-", He gasped and fell to the smooth floor of the office, cursing himself for not being able to reach 255 push ups. He noticed a plateu regarding the progress of his training, especially lately. There seemed to be an invisible wall keeping him from getting any better and it was driving him crazy. He was pissed he could eat a man, bone and all.He slammed his fist against the floor and turned over onto his back, staring up at his plain cieling. His breathing had begun to slow, cold sweat trickling over his sore muscles. There had to be more to this. The veterans of the villiage had already trained him up the best they could and it didn't take long for Scar to surpass them. They could be no help to him now. They simply would be ground into dust.

His eyes looked through the wall, imagining the Ashen Plains' red skies. They reminded Scar of home, of Planet Vegeta. A good fight there was never rare, and competition, during missions or on leave, was fierce. In a place like that he could have grown strong, but instead he was here. How cruel fate had to be to him, and now he would be weak here forever.

[Miranda Frost]

If anything could be said about North VIlliage, one could find it easy to defend. It was reletively safe from lava flooding and volcanic activity. There was only one road out of it and if one didn't know what to look for, one could easily miss it. On all sides the villiage was surrounded by mountains and rock formations, a natural fortress. Rooms have been carved into them, and the tops of each mountain transformed into watch towers that could see out for miles. As the villiage focused mainly on mining to bring in the revenue required to keep it up and running. The villiage lacked a proper military force. The depended on locally trained and armed militia to do the job.

Weaponry was not an issue here. The rich mining deposits around the village's natural walls provided all the materials needed to arm an entire army. A heavy ballista topped every watch tower, and crossbow men patrolled the mountains constantly. Approximately fifty men existed at these posts at any given time, armed and armored to the teeth. An attack could come at any time. Ever since Scar's appointment as Mayor, He has taken upon himself to train up the village population to act as a proper defending force. As a result he had managed to wrestle control and give himself power to negotiate a independence treaty with King Bowser. North Village was soverign now, able to trade as they pleased.

A guard peering out of a slit in the rocky walls spotted two objects approaching fast, one on the ground and one on the air. He grunted and made his way to the pulley that was used to close and secure the gate and began to shut it. Something wasn't right about the speed of their approach, but with only two assaulting even this village was suicide. Still, it was best to be safe than sorry later on. By the time the man one what could be seen now as a motorcycle got close to the gate, the gate was shut and locked from entry. The flying object, now seen as a dragon, flew over and landed in the village central training grounds, a large clearing that Mayor scar used to train the guardsmen.

It just stood there, its head swaying in the air, alternating the aim of the fire she charged in her maw at the hidden gaurdsman. Noone dared fire at the beast or the man that rode her, but they kept their crossbows ready and aimed. The man reached for a megaphone, bringing it to his lips to it.

"LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS.. WE ARE HERE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MAYOR.. WE ARE NOT HERE TO FIGHT"


Well.. that was half right. The two came prepared for battle and expected combat, but not from these measly gaurds. The guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and opened the gate for the swordsman, November to enter. He drove through the town, spraying ash and dirt over the townspeople as they peeked from their houses to join Blue in the center of town, but by the time he got there, the very man they had come the fetch had arrived.

"You two have ten of my seconds to explain yourselves before you three become my dinner."

[Miranda Frost]

Scar was a hulk of a man. At nearly seven feet the man stood before his intruders with his typical trainin attire, bare feet, bare chest, and bare fists clenched and ready to break faces. He wore nothing but torn white pants stained with blood and sweat and only Omni knows what. Without much on, everyone and their mothers could tell why the towns people called him "Scar". Heavy scarring and fresh cuts could bee easily seen over his rippling muscles from his front to the back. One could only speculate how this man was still standing after having taken this many sickening wounds. From behind his back, a monkey-like tail swayed in the air

" 'the hell is that? this man has a tail? Strange... probably isn't human then", Blue thought, kicking upward and sliding off the leather saddle to the dirt below. He dusted himself clean and stepped foreward, brushing his hand over Bessie's smooth scales. her head dipped low as he passed, her ocean blue reptilian eyes tracing him protectively as he moved to speak with the monkey man. He stopped not ten feet from him, his arms crossing.

"We invite you to join us. We are an alliance of mayors dedicated to bringing about change throughout the Omniverse, uniting it under one banner. Your renknown strength would be of use to us.", Blue said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a red ribbon, offering it to the monkey. He frowned and stared at it, obviously taking it to mind.

"While I admire your bravery for storming through my town and offering me another job, I decline. I live to fight, but i'm getting old.. i'm settling down. Besides.. I don't work with weaklings like you three.", he said light heartedly. Blue was taken aback by the answer, but the monkey man wasn't quite finished. "But while you are here I insist you help me on my training"

With that the hulking man burst foreward, slamming a fist into the gut of the human dragon rider. Blue fell to his knees gasping for air and the dragon moved over him, snapping her jaw down quickly at Scar. It would have been a messy sight, but scar wasn't exactly where he was a moment earlier. He had dropped low, his body pulled tightly to his left before bouncing back, launching his elbow into the dragon's jaw.

November himself simply stood where he was, arms crossed and leaning against a building. He had no interest in taking part of the battle. To be honest he didn't quite feel motivated enough to even participate at all in the mission. He was here for moral support, a place holder. Of course Mayor Orange didn't need to know that. He probably assumed he would be the one crossing fists with this "Scar". He didn't do hand to hand. It simply wasn't his thing. He didn't really like Blue anyway, so if he took a few blows then fine. It wasn't November's problem.

The dragon roared a deafening cry at the combative mayor and drew flames into her mouth. Fire dripped like venom from her fangs and she let it loose, dowsing the dirt and ash in her fury. Again Scar was nowhere to be found in Bessie's sea of flames, but rather five feet from it, a ball of yellow energy growing in his palm. Scar thrusted his hand foreward to fire it.

However Blue had acted before hand. Firing a powerful bullet from his M6D magnum side arm. His sight picture was garbage underneath the monstrous body of Bessie, but he was able to target his leg. He fired a semi armor piercing explosive round into the soft tissue of the monkey, blowing the use of his leg to Hell. Bessie moved back, allowing Blue to spring himself to his feet and approach the fighter who was now taken out of the fight. He spit at the ground and slung the steel toe of his boot up and over, catching Scar in the ear.

"We didn't come to fight you dumb ass!", Blue growled, sending another kick into the man's gut for earlier, properly giving him repayment for earlier.

For first impressions, this one was off on a bad start. This man was obviously explosive and too eager to jump into a fight. He wiped the blood off of his lip and climbed back up on Bessie's saddle, who roared a warning to the guardsmen who rushed in to help the now unconscious Scar. Blue didn't need to tell Bessie what was needed to be done now, she stepped forward and picked up the body before taking to the sky. November himself would stay and explain the situation along with deal with any retaliation that may occur.

As for this Scar, there was enough medi-gel at the HQ to float a dragon, he would recover back to one hundred percent in no time. When he wakes Orange himself would do the negotiations. Blue just didn't have the patience to handle another fight. Scar's brains would be on the wall before he could say "Come on! let's fight".

It looks like they've found their Red. If every recruitment was going to be this dramatic... Blue might retire when it is all said and done

[Miranda Frost]

First things were going great.. then he could barely feel his leg. After doing somewhat well for the start of that battle, he could no longer support his weight. It was tough to even stay. To be brutally honest, if the meat bag that he was fighting pulled out the gun in the first place he wouldn't think much of it. Before.. back in his own world bullets were nothing. Saiyan skin was naturally resistant to such things. Sure they stung, but they never really did break skin. This was how they conquered world after world. This is how they demolished the Tuffles. Their weaponry was not up to par with the overwhelming power that the saiyans possessed.

To get this kind of injury was nearly unheard of in his world unless one was fighting a battle he himself shouldn't have been fighting. He chuckled to himself before he took the near skull crushing power of Blue's kick to the ear. His body hit the dirt and faded into consciousness. Maybe.. he should've had help in this battle.

[Miranda Frost]

The weak Mayor Blue fled Scar's mountain fortress on the back of his flying meatshield of a dragon..... whose name escaped November. It didn't really matter in either case. The village militia was too either frightened or shocked from the dragon's appearance and how easily their "Fierce Leader" went down. It was sad really to see such a "Well Trained" group of fighting "Men" to have their morale crushed so easily. It meant November's fun would be less so. What a pity. What a pity.

It was a pity that November largely went un-noticed. Not a single set of eyes tracked him as he dragged his huge blade across the ground, walking calmly toward the center of the training field. Their negligence to pay attention would be their downfall. The only hard part about this... would be the infinite choices November could bring about their ultimate demise.

November was armed to the teeth on this mission, sporting two wakizashis, two revolvers he had taken off of his father's corpse, a broken spear taken off the corpse of his first victory at Coliseum, his Frostbite sword, and a couple of knives hidden in his boots just incase the others listed before couldn't do the trick. Should all else fail he was proficient in hand to had combat, although not as much as his sister was....

His primary weapon, Frostbite, was a six foot long double edged broadsword that had been passed down through the males of the Frost Family for generations. The tip was missing, housing a gap that traveled two feet down the blad to another sharp edge on the inside, making a great weapon for decapitations. It was strong. It was durable. It was incredibly sharp. With this weapon he had avenged her sister's death by slaughtering all of Coliseum. Not a single man, woman, or child left that place. Spectator or Competitor, it didn't matter to November. Because of those who competed and those who enjoyed their suffering, his sister was killed.

Now this village was about to suffer the same fate, although this time all eyes were not on him. It would be even easier than before. November slipped off his mask and lifted his black, wide brimmed hat up, letting him get a full view of the fortress's "Turrets" and ballistae. Each was unmanned. The "walls" seemed to be unoccupied as well, except for the gate-keepers. Many if not most of the village's militia had pulled around the training grounds, possibly to watch the fight their Mayor was going to commit to. Blue put and end to that rather quickly.

It was time to make things interesting. November slammed his blade into the ashy ground and cleared his throat.

"Greetings North Village! My job here is simple... to give you a chance to win your leader back!", November called out, crossing his arms and gazing out at the crowd of short sword and spear weilding militia, who only now started to return his gaze. They weren't happy, but at least now their were attemptive, giving their soon to be killer all the attention in the world. This determination would not last long if November's assumptions were correct. Once they fully witness the desolation of their ranks... they would attempt to flee.. or beg... or both. It was quite amusing. Would November toy with them? Perhaps he could make it seem as if they had a chance. The possibilities were endless!

November howled in menacing laughter. Oh great fun this was! Just thinking about what to do just made his blood boil.

"It is simple! Kill me and drag my body to East Village and you will have your 'mayor' back..... if you fail....", November licked his lips and took the hilt of his sword into his hand, lifting it free from the ground and resting it on his shoulder. "Then your lives are forfeit".

The mob of spear and sword armed men closed slowly, reluctantly around November. It was probably fifty.. maybe a hundred guards here. The fools were going to need more.

A few more moments and the crowd refused to make the first move. Fools... it was their only chance of victory. They were all smashed together in a tight circle around November. November raised his sword a and leaped foreward, thrusting his blade into the western wall of men. Two out of one hundred already down, their bellies torn and left to spill once November kicked them free of his blade. This... this was going to be fun.

Like kicking a hornets nest, the hornets swarmed in for the attack, spears raised and swords poised to strike. The black Marauder took his blade into both of his hands and spun quickly, cleaving the first and second rows of attackers. Already the bottom half of his blade was painted red to the point of blocking the black finish along the flat of the sword from being visible.

There was nothing like it. The sky was red. Frostbite was red. The ash around him was starting to form a crimson mud. The smell of iron took to the air with each slash into the mob of angry men. Their numbers in the first few moments of the battle had dropped from a formidable one hundred men to a... less than hopeful sixty. A few more after had to be cut down before they stopped charging in blindly into the meat cleaver's reach. Someone had taken charge of the group. They dispersed and loosened their formation, circling around him like hungry wolves.

November stood to a straightened posture, the hilt of his blade tight in his gloved hand. the ends of his coat were already torn and stained scarlet. A few spears did make it through November's defensive manuevers as he featured a few grazed cuts along his side and a stab wound in his left arm. the enemy didn't take his openings for granted. They waited... patiently.

"You should be attacking... you know... you are all pissing me off..", he said with a chuckle stuck in his throat. There was a power his bloodline wielded. It involved taking pure rage and pumping it from his soul into his bloodstream. The result increased his strength, speed, and pain tolerence for a short time, but that usually was enough to finish an enemy or group of weaklings like this. Mastering the ability had been difficult as he could only harness it through moments of immense rage, at first. Once he was used to "Flexing" that "Muscle", metaphorically speaking, he found it easier and easier to pull it off. As long as he was frustrated at least, he could tap into it. It did leave a massive strain on his body though, so he would have to make sure to finish ALL threats before being on his way. If even a single guardsmen managed to hold off until his rage diminished, then he would find November to be a much... easier adversary.

November tensed his body, opening the gates between his soul and bloodstream, flooding his core with the despair and frustration he had been feeling. Like a chain reaction the soul answered back in kind, infusing his bloodstream with the negative energy he had been keeping pent up. He couldn't feel his wounds and his body felt as if it was laying in a bed of euphoria. November grinned from ear to ear before taking up his blade in both hands, and charging into the group of remaining guardsmen

[Miranda Frost]

If there was one thing Orange had learned when working with a failing band of marauding criminals is that expectations die. Horribly. So horribly in fact that to get away from such screw up involved a change of identity but that is an entirely different story altogether. Orange had assumed that this man laying in the medical ward of his estate, bound, blinded, and with a knee blown out would be too much for just Blue to handle. Orange had underestimated his own comrade's ability, or luck, to get the job done and it made him look like a fool, not to mention November, who probably just stood around like the fifth wheel (cause we all know a operable car doesn't need five wheels right?) Orange and Blue both knew what November was doing now that he wasn't quite needed.

"Entertaining, Myself" as November once called it.

Orange shuddered as he walked down his clean, empty hallway to what he imagined a hot bloody mess. He made sure the staff knew about his distaste for blood. Sure it was an irrational fear for the profession he was in. Blood would indeed be spilled but.. why here? There was a reason he had no doctors hired on, despite having a medical ward to accommodate the job opening. It wasn't even Orange's idea for such an addition to his home. Orange preferred the shedding of blood outside his residence, where he spent his time scheming, thinking, and... constructive things. Things that could not work nor happen with Orange clenching his suitcase tightly to his chest as he sat in the corner absolutely farthest away from any drop of blood. Orange knew better. He had spent evenings trembling under his fear in the presence of company. It was embarrassing and put him off as a lunatic.

The good, greedy, orange-suitcase carrying Mayor tugged on the door handle and pushed the door open and walked inside, shutting the door behind him. Orange straightened his eye and examined the room, first to the bloodless slate floors and then to the dragon glaring angrily through the window.

Orange jumped back a few inches and glared and blue, who sat beside the unconscious saiyan, rubbing his cheek.

"Close those windows.... I dont need your pet giving me a heart attack every time I want to look outside.", Orange commanded, his grip tightening around the handle of his suitcase.

Blue simply shrugged and stepped towards the window and shut the blinds before returning to his spot beside the bed.

"Now that we are alone... how is he?"

"Well.. he's an asshole, but he hits pretty hard"

"NO. I mean how is his knee?"

"Well.. i'm no doctor buuut that knee is gone. Shattered. Dust in the Wind. You ever heard of the band called Kansas? reallly old stuff but.. it hits there you know?"

"No.. i don't. We are short three or four to make our team formidible. Strong secondaries that would just.. enjoy helping us out aren't really in good supply and you've taken one out of commission.", Orange grunted and pulled up a chair on the other side of the medical bed. Orange regretted not hiring a doctor to his staff. Could have been really helpful right now. Besides there weren't that many doctors, and we are talking actual doctors not what they use now-a-days in these mining towns all over the place, in the Ashen Plains. In fact the only one that really came to mind worked in a hospital an hour drive off, one of the few dedicated hospitals in the Verse. Couldn't hurt to ask of their assistance could it?

"You know.. There is a hospital an hour's off from here, ran by a Doctor Greene. Perhaps he can join our cause."

"And here I thought you were balls-deep in your 'Mayor' motif you had going on."

"And here i thought there was no need to talk in such.. distasteful manner in front of me... but you are right, kinda burnt out quick."

"I'm just going to assume you want me to go see this.. Greene of yours?"

"Yes.. and take Red with you." There was no reason to call him by his old nickname. He was already registered in Orange's staff list. It was official whether or not Red agreed to. His compliance really wasn't a factor at this point.

"Sure.. get his knee patched up so he can break my face again..."

"Unless you want to go fetch November? He is undoubtedly 'Mopping Up' as you explained in your report? You know he doesn't like being interrupted during his fun."

"You have a point... taking the asshole. Bye"

With that Mayor Blue got off his lazy ass and left the room to prepare for the journey. Through the air it should take only a fraction of what it would take on the ground over what passes for roads here in the fiery wasteland. Just couldn't go out for a drive without risking taking a leisurely swim through a lake of fire.

[Miranda Frost]

Blue had once heard of the hospital built in the middle of what must seemed like the most inhospitable location he had ever seen, even more so than Orange's base of operations. He hadn't heard much. The world of medical marvel was not very appealing to the ex-ship captain, who enjoyed a simple life of metaphorical star-gazing and strategy. Being just on the edge of Bowser's territory yet so close to many important mining facilities, Blue and "Bessy" had expected it to be swarming with the the red and green colors of koopa shells.

They assumed wrong.

Instead it felt like he had visited a funeral on a colony whose population were Japanese descending. The majority of the staff he had seen so far wore black kimonos common in funeral processions.. at least what he was told by his old Lieutenant who looked Japanese. The two door guards that had relieved him of his weapons brandished very authentic looking katanas. The Omni-verse was such a strange place.

Once through the door, Blue took in his surroundings. It appeared like the hospital back home, full of healthy people making the actual suffering wait. It was a sad thing but what can one do?

Blue walked up to the reception desk rested an arm across it.

"Hello I'm Mayor Blue and I'm here to see Doctor Greene", Blue said, his eyes drifting over towards the various sets of civilian eyes trailing him. Murmers passed along the room like a hot grenade.

Blue caught the word Prime amongst their chatter.

pfft, dont kid yourself. Just as mortal as any of you.

The reseptionist didn't even speak, didn't even glance upwards before giving Blue a clipboard. Blue took it and tilted his head in confusion.

"Ugh.. He's expecting me, can i not just go through"

"No you may not."

"But-"

"So are they, get in line.. fill out the damn form. NEXT"

A pair of well to be women passed Blue to the back rooms, giggling as they passed.

"All of these people are here to see one doctor?".

"Of course.... he's the only doctor here.. now be a good Human and fill out that form"

Blue grumbled and moved off to his seat, slipping the pen from the top of the clipboard. He shook his head and sighed in frustration. How can ONE doctor treat all of the patients that filled this three story building? Sure he must had helpers but to physically see to every patient must take time unless he was some miracle worker.

His eyes glanced down his paper and furrowed his brow. The form was short, asking only for name, race, age, and a box to describe the reason for visiting. This would be a great time for Red to get checked out. There was practically nothing left of the knee he had blown out. The quicker he could get him checked out, the quicker he could get him out of Bessey's clutches. Hell, he could be dragon food for all he knew. Bessy didn't really like Red. Well.. the big girl didn't really like anyone but Blue. Really bitter to everyone, even Blue at times.

Once finished with the short form he took it up the the front desk who read his form aloud to.. what looked like a black Butterfly, which flew through a square hole in the door. huh.. probably served as a mode of communication. Blue would love to see the backwards world these guys came from.

An Hour later....

"NEXT!"

Blue woke from his sleep with a startling jump to the receptionist glaring angrily at him.

"I...said... NEXT!"

Blue scrambled to his feet and ran through the door to what seemed like a nurse clad in a black kimono with a red cross strapped to her shoulder. She seemed a little more cheery than the woman up front. She grinned at him and brushed her light pink hair from her eyes.

"Please come with me sir"

"Yes ma'am", Blue found himself saying, stepping right after her as she led him through various doors and rooms to the one he was supposedly staying in... to see a tall man clad in the same black kimono but with an oversized white haori on with a bright red cross on it. He turned and motioned to the seat next to him. Blue took a seat. Only then did he see Red, still blindfolded and bound on the medical bed.

"I assumed you bound him on purpose, I wont ask why" The doctor glanced over at Blue and Green before looking back down at his clipboard, quickly writing notes. "My name is Doctor Verde Greene, and you are... Blue and... Red. Colorful names", the Doctor spoke, slipping the clipboard beneath an arm. "I did get your benefactor's message. I would have thought my lack of answer would be more than enough to state my interest in your.... doings".

"Yes, I was sent here to get a more solid answer Doctor." and not leave until that answer is yes.

"He failed to state how this benifits me. I'm a doctor. I run a Hospital. Time not spent here is money not earned to pay King Bowser's tax. If I cannot pay, this building will be brought down."

"This arrangement is only to gaurantee a quick line to you should one of us get hurt, no lines, quick treatment. You can expect to be paid double the price of normal visits"

"I see..." the good doctor stopped pacing and stroked his imaginary beard. Now that Blue had a chance to look, the man looked sickly himself. Intel had said he was around his twenties.. maybe thirties but this man looked about fifty. His narrow cheekbones and skinny frame was evident of that. His unearthly green eyes met Blue's curious stare. The man smiled and turned to face him, crossing his arms.

"I accept your Benefactor's proposition on one condition: My Hospital comes before his organization. Breaching this will force me to.. hinder your organization's progress in my spare time. You do not want this."

Blue nodded and glanced over at Red, who was still unconcious thanks to whatever the good doctor was pumping into him via an i.v.

"Your... 'Friend' will stare here a couple of days while I treat him. Here is Orange's bill...", Doctor Greene tore the sheet of paper from his clip-board and placed it into Blue's hands before pushing him out, slamming the door behind him.

Blue blinked a bit and turned to face the door. What the hell just happen? How the hell did he get Red from Bessy that quickly. How the hell did he diagnose the man that quickly? For all Blue knew the gaping hole that was Red's knee could have opened the door for infection or some other illness. And it would only take a few days to get this.. man up and running? The guy really was a miracle worker.