Intermission from Doom

[Doomguy]

Continued from Leviathan

-Costa del Sol-

Compared to the ride out on the Rust Bucket, returning back to Costa del Sol was as smooth as a cruse liner. With about fifty percent less creaking floor boards and a lot less having to worry about the knot in my stomach from giving me ulcers. Although the fact that I was whisked way from my home by some sociopath, egotistical, god-like being was still at the back of my mind. I had quite a bit of time to simmer down and try to figure out what I was going to do now that I was stuck here. Finding Omni was objective one. But how does one find a omnipotent being if they don't want to be found, and what would I do if I did? Ask him nicely to send me home? Pump him full of rockets and hope it all turns out alright? I was in enemy territory without any intel, without even an idea of where to start to look. And with the crick in my neck from back to back fights with hellish creatures, I wasn't in any position to go stomp around and look. At the least, not then.

I left Choprot's crew alone to rest their injuries, taking a small spare room with only a table and a porthole for my own personal use. With the small taste of what Omnilium could do on the island, I began to experiment. Items of all shapes and sizes filled up the small room, from tents to matches, from bundles of rope to little RC cars. Any and every kind of kit that you could want, and some that you don't. Boxes of ammo appeared from the liquid material, and then went straight into my pouches and backpack. Even whole guns appeared when I focused on them, whole duplicates of the ones I had used in the Phobos Incident and invasion of Hell. There is some restriction I found out, as attempting to call my BFG resulted in a resounding nothing (to my great dismay). And with just a little time all of it was back to the metallic bubble if came from. Time seemed to be the major factor here. Even the most useless junk took minutes to spawn, while anything of worth added on to that. There was also the question of where it came from: Was what I was taking summoned like I was? Like the secondaries? And what happened when I disassembled them back into the Omnilium?

Multi-universal metaphysics weren't a requirement for the USSMC.

In between playing with myself, I did get something done. The tablet I commandeered from the military base was upgraded to be up to USSMC standards. Able to withstand being used as a impromptu melee weapon by a bezerking space marine and then be used by said drugged-to-their-eyeball marine to call orbital bombardment on his position. The parts were simple enough to materialize, and with a bit of work with a screwdriver it was even looking like the PDFs the UAC liked to hand to their desk jockies and mall cops, with a few personal touches. And after killing several hours just working with the Omnilum, the Dataverse provided a wonderful distraction as I waiting for the ship to stop at the port. Although I'm embarrassed to say I got into an argument with an idiot name "Guu". What kind of name is Guu, anyway?

The arrival back at Costa del Sol had no fan fare as the fishing trawler made dock. I slunk off the deck and back into the city proper, now ever more loaded up than when I had left. It seems that a walking arsenal is a standard feature of the Omniverse, as I only got curious glances at most as I walked the streets of the tropical paradise in search of food. I took a seat at an open bistro and thought about what my choices were.

What does someone someone do while they're trapped in a tropical island and loaded up with power and cash...

"...I'll go on vacation" It struck me. I had been fighting monster after monster, going through hellscape through hellscape. I deserved some R&R.

"Well, Omni, I'l give you one thing: You're an asshole, but you're an asshole with taste."

[Simon]

"Aha-! I was looking for a drink..."

Not too long following his return to the Vasty Deeps, Snow could be seen idly walking around the different streets of Costa del Sol, observing what there was to be found. Despite his slower walking rate, his tall strides were enough to keep the young man up to pace with the rest of the crowds. There was definitely plenty this island had to offer, and since he hadn't observed any official sort of tour (not that Snow saw himself getting along with the authority here anytime soon), the l'Cie would just make one up for himself.

In his encircling of the island, the white-coated man managed to take note of several famous looking shop chains for supply stores and restaurants, a several story building that seemed to be advertised as a hotel/resort, a small nature park (in addition/contrast to the plaza surrounding the island's Gate), and what appeared to be a casino. Typical enough for the stereotypes of a tropical island.

But the weather was another matter entirely. The sun (was it even really an actual sun, here?) beat down the island with relentless waves of heat, mixing with the sea air for a humid, almost stuffy environment. It was far different that Cocoon's regulated heat, but arguably more natural, Snow supposed.

Either way, in due time he had removed his longcoat and slung it over his shoulder to keep off the heat, leaving just his darker undershirt beneath. While the thought crossed his mind to conjure up a good drink with some Omnilium, the l'Cie was at the same time compelled to discover for himself what sort of tropical delicacies this place served its residents. And so, it wasn't very long at all before he happened upon one of the open-bar drink shops also typical of a resort island.

It brought a bit of nostalgia, actually. NORA had run such a bar in their off time to generate revenue to continue with their vigilante activities. Snow couldn't help but wonder if this was the place for the new start he may be looking for. Only one way to find out, he supposed...

Rather nonchalant and a tad ignorantly, Snow took one of the first seats on the bar he noted. This inadvertently landed himself next to a soldier-type man loaded up to the teeth in combat armor with about five different guns strapped to him. The l'Cie had to remember that anything was possible in the Omniverse, but that didn't stop him from getting a cautious eyeful of this guy. The particularly green color of his armor almost called back to Hammer in his same-ish colored jacket, but Snow dismissed any sort of connection.

As Snow had sat down, he overheard something the soldier-guy had been roughly saying: something about an asshole with taste. Willfully ignoring it to avoid any sort of misinterpretation, Snow sat plainly in wait for the bartender. Somewhere on the other side of the man, a younger, boyish voice spoke up, catching the hardier man's attention for a moment. As much as he wanted to deny eavesdropping, Snow allowed himself to overhear what they were saying.

[Doomguy]

I gave the waitress an order for whatever was the cheapest thing on the menu, at the moment I was just interested in topping up that an actual meal. She asked me if I knew that it lunch was three hours ago, and I explained to her that I didn't care. She left to get my food, I gave the bartender the signal for a beer and advise to just start a tab, and I spent the time wait looking over the little details of Costa del Sol. The beach bums were active as always, armed in the latest fashion of swim wear, living vapid lives of trying to out due each other in the competition of the "best" tan or surf or whatever distraction they were hooked on to. A view of the beach and the gentle waves splashing across gave an enticing promise of cold water in this sweltering heat, but recent memories giant monsters of the depth tore that idea to ribbons. Perhaps I could find something that kept me away from the ocean.

As I glanced over my PDF to listen to the smooth voice of Ron Burgendy tell me what has been ailing the Omniverse today, I felt the presence of someone invading my personal space in the bar stool right next to my own. I gave the man a quick glance over, my helmet offering a bit of protection from that being noticed. Long blond hair, black doo-rag, scruffy beard, dopey look on his face, The kind of Californian surfer-bro that wouldn't have looked out of place here or even at him, if he wasn't a head taller than I was. At least he had the decency to have a shirt on. I noted the bit of caution he gave me as he got comfortable at his seat. Couldn't really judge, to be honest. I was carrying enough kit to run this place over.

I gave him a nod and grunt of acknowledgement, just the barest enough I could afford to show I wasn't hostile. I generally prefer close friends for a drinking buddy than a complete stranger, but at least I could officially say I wasn't drinking alone. Because that would be sad and depressing. And you don't want a sad and depressing space marine.

"So, you’re on vacation as well?" was the voice I heard to my other side and I shifted my sight to see a young kid sitting down in the other seat, requiring me to look down to get a good look of him. He was very much a young kid in attire and look at first glance. But it wasn't hard to notice the weapons that he was carrying, the bandages across his entire body that covered hidden wounds, not unlike the ones covered by my armor. It was tempting to shoo the little guy away so I didn't cause some trouble with whatever parents he was avoiding, but I decided to give him a little attention.

"I guess you could say that" I answered, giving a glance over to the bartender as I waited for my beer "More like in between missions. Just got through a fight, not long after being pulled in here, and I need to stop before I burn myself out"

"What about you?" I asked the head band wearing child as I glanced around "You look like you've been through quite a bit already

[Doomguy]

Once I've answered the tykes's question and I've saw through his gentle mask, he dropped the innocent act immediately and revealed the much colder soldier hidden underneath. It was the way they hold themselves and the look in their eyes that makes it easy to spot. That sense of professionalism and discipline that was drill into the person's being, wrapped tightly around a core of murderous instinct and harrowing memories that they hoped no one would every truly find out. Most would be devastated to find that in someone so young, but i'm sad to report that this would not be the first time if seen child soldiers so close. Though this would the first time I've been with a friendly one.

Whatever sympathy was trying to well up and leak out was immediately squashed by both a cynical outlook on life and what the kid replied with to my own questioning. Now, I'm not saying I hadn't entertained the idea, or that I would be so surprised when I had already met fantasy creatures and monsters from beyond sanity at that point, but a ninja was not something I had expected to have a drink and shoot the breeze with. He mentioned the Tangled Green, and as I thought on it, it made sense that the most forested 'verse would have a hidden ninja village.

Oh god, this is sounding more ridiculous the more I hear myself say it.

"Well, I don't know about "Ninja Politics," I said as the waitress came by depositing my beer and an orange juice for the kid which I don't remember him ordering (although I did spot the note), thinking about what I knew on the subject. Mostly horse crap from terrible B-movies "but if it's anything like normal politics, then I don't envy your job." I finished with a bit of a chuckle as the kid's sigh. If the sigh was anything to go by, it was a bit more of a doozy then he was letting on. Or he's just doing that because he thought that just was bar flies did.

I took off my helmet and set it on the counter, both out of respect and so that I can drink my beer. I cracked the can open and started my own spiel (as the kid did give "the signal", after all).

"I went out to loot some abandoned fortress. Thought it was just going to be standard scavenge job. Apparently someone decided to book the Ugly Fishman Convention inside the place, and I had to go through the whole place while everyone else wanted to take my head" I took a sip of the cheap beer, giving a small frown at the swill but kept drinking it anyway. "A whole cavern of them were underneath the entire base. Don't ask me how they got there, 'cause I know jack all. Even after blasting their bosses, some giant monster spawned out of one of them. Biggest, ugliest fucker to come out of the sea I've ever seen. I got the hell out of there, it followed me back to the boat, nearly lost everyone, but I did manage to put it down" I took a particularly large gulp of beer at that and slammed the can back to the table with a bit too much force than needed. I was not happy to remember that, and it was probably blindingly obvious to everyone around me. I reined myself in, and tried to keep my own harrowing experiences back under wraps.

"Now I'm just kinda figuring out what I'm doing. Still kind of new to this whole 'Omniverse' thing. No idea how to get home, if there is even one." As I thought about it, I considered that if I was going to bitch a moan in front of someone, I might as well know they're name.

"I'm Doom Guy, by the way"

[Simon]

Snow quietly hailed the waitress and asked about any of their 'exotic' drinks. Apparently having perked her up a bit, she listed off a couple of suggestions before Snow picked out something called a "Whirlpool". It was a sort of chilled marine-blue fruit juice mixed with some alcohol and a pinch of lime, served in a martini glass with a rim of sugar. Interesting, to say the least, but it didn't taste half bad at all, once one got past the mild burn of the alcohol.

There was certainly no shortage of interesting conversation to go around. From the small boy practically saturated with bandages, there came talk about ninja politics and hidden villages in the Tangled Green. From the hard-bodied soldier, a summation of a tale regarding his genocide of a fishman cult during a raid of some fortress island. The Omniverse really did have a little bit of everything.

"Heh, this is a crazy world, isn't it?" Snow finally piped up to his stool-mates, after carefully sampling the Whirlpool a couple of times. He pulled off his black cap soon afterwards, as a way of acknowledging himself in this conversation; that, and it was also getting too hot to wear. "We got sea monsters, vampires, evil cults, ninjas, wizards- all sorts of stuff. What do ya figure it all means, us being here?"

Suddenly switching into something of a contemplative mood, he asked again, "I mean, there's gotta be some sort of reason we're all here, right?" Expecting some sort of negative answer, out of consideration, the l'Cie shrugged and continued with, "I mean, either way I figure it's just some god screwing with us, but we wouldn't be here if there wasn't any reason for it. Right?" Snow lifted his glass to his lips again, giving the other folks a chance to reply.

[Doomguy]

Given the general causal atmosphere of the situation, I probably should have given Kito a bit of give when he decided to laugh at my nickname and gave me a shortened and demeaning replacement (the same one Choprot taunted me with). With me and the kid assassin trading battle stories, the blond wino behind me ordered some dangerous concoction the waitress had refereed to as a "whirlpool", and all around us was breathtaking scenery of a vacation in tropical heaven, I should have just brushed it off and laughed with him. But I bristled instead, indignant that something that held significant is my world was a joke here. My frown threatened to bisect my lower jaw from the rest of my face, and I could feel the metaphorical storm cloud raging over my head. It was a quick pout, as it was only going to make me look like an ingrate and a jackass if I got pissy over a name. I regained my composure and shrugged it off, both specially and otherwise. Although If the other guy called me that, I'd deck him.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" I answered, taking a gulp of beer as the ninja laughed. At the very least, it felt good to see someone finally laugh since I've gotten here, even if it was at my expense. "Well, Kito, it seems like you have yourself situated. Better than most, probably. This Tsunade seems like she has your back, if that note is anything to go by" It was less of a deduction and more like a reasonable guess. It was either from Tsunade or some middleman for her. Or it was a sudden secret admirer, in which case it was a good idea to keep an eye on him to be on the safe side

As for my weapons, I gave my own chuckle and brightened up "Force of habit, I guess. Force of paranoia, more like. I've found that peace is temporary and fleeting. If a fraction of what it's like back home is how it is here, then you can't be too careful Of course, I also got a kick that he would ask me that while he had a sword around his back "And you're one to talk. Just because your stuff isn't as big, doesn't make it any less deadly. Certainly a ninja would have plenty of tricks up their sleeve, mystical BS or not"

Blondy then choose to speak up, giving a philosophical spin to the conversation. The fact that he mentioned 'wizards', when neither Kito or I had said anything about them, gave me the impression he was also travel experienced. Either he was also a prime, or adventuring was just the bog standard career choice around here. That and beach bum.

"The reason is that Omni is an asshole, the kind of mean kid that enjoys flipped turtles over to see if they can get back up" I would know, I was that kid. "If there is some grander reason, I don't care to be a part of it. Once I find to him, he's either sending me home or he's going to be scooping his brain off the floor with a ladle

[Isabelle]

The change was so dramatic she almost felt the wind get knocked out of her. Suddenly, salt kissed air pressed against her face. The familiar aroma of seaweed and roasting seafood and the distant sounds of waves crashing, wingulls calling, made her nostalgic for days when she and her trainer used to go to the beach when they were both younger. The sun illuminated down from the sky as its warmth felt welcoming compared to the scorching heat of lava and the empty chill of the Nexus. It brought a mile wide smile to her face.
‘This is FAR better than the Ashen Steppes!’ She thought to herself.

She stood on a boardwalk of sorts. All of the nearest shops were full of t-shirts, random nick-knacks of many sorts. Many of the merchandise had branded sayings like “I <3 Costa Del Sol,” “Vasty Deeps,” and “Beach Bitch FTW.” There was even a shop dedicated to Pokemon merchandise. It felt a little bit strange for her to see some children walking by squeezing plushie depictions of her former combatants. Also, for whatever reason, there was a shop devoted entirely to wares for left-handed people.
People of all types were walking around, some of them wearing casual clothing with cameras and maps, while others wearing business attire, all just trying to get where they needed to be. She saw some pokemon amidst the crowd, and even some creatures she’d never seen before like goblins, Koblods, a random unicorn just walking around, but the populace seemed to be mostly human.
However as she got moving, she felt rather exposed. More and more eyes started to turn as people started noticing the four foot tall bunny rabbit walking around amongst them. As people started to gawk at the cute spectacle before them, she started to feel more and more nervous, and her feet started to pick up the pace, as it was apparent her legs wanted to get the heck out of the situation as much as she did. But the crowd was everywhere, and everywhere she turned was more and more onlookers. Eventually, the stress was too much to bear and she ducked into what looked like an open shop.

She walked in, eyes from the crowd outside still fixed on her. The shop was fairly empty with very few patrons sitting at the little tables. Oddly enough, most of them paid her no mind. She walked over to the bar next to some kid in a ninja getup. The stool was little over half her size, forcing her to physically climb the thing; the crowd “d’awws” as she struggles to find her footing. After a bit of struggle, she finally gets seated. She looked around for an employee.
“Um…” She said, attracting the attention of the waitress.
“Oh my, aren’t you cute!” Said said gleefully. “What can I get you?”
”I’m… uh…”
“Yes?”
”I’m… looking for Cinnabar island.”
The waitress moved in closer.
“Didn’t quite catch that.”
Lopunny hides behind her ears as she does a squeak of terrified submission.

Example of a squeak of terrified submission.

The waitress notices the crowd outside and gets a knowing smile
“Tell you what, I’ll go deal with the crowd there, then I’ll go help some other customers and give you sometime to calm down.” She said comfortingly. “Then you can let me know when you are ready. Sound good?”
She slowly nodded.
The waitress smiled again. She went off to the entrance and looked at the crowd menacingly. She pointed at the no loitering sign, which caused most of the crowd to disperse. With that, she goes back into a smile and moves to help other customers.
With the crowd diminished, she felt her anxiety melt away a bit, but it was going slowly. She gave off a little sigh, as she did Medicham’s breathing exercises to calm down.

[Simon]

The veteran soldier's words were blunt and to the point, just as much as the guy himself was, Snow figured. The l'Cie let out a complacent chuckle, draining his current glass of the liquid stuff. His thirst was satisfied, and he was starting to get a buzz off of the alcohol, so Snow figured it was fitting for him to just leave it at that. He thanked the server and requested to start up a tab; Snow had an inkling he was going to be here a couple of times.

"Fair enough," Snow shrugged at 'Doom Guy', fully turning to the folks at the bar. Laying his coat and cap strewn across his lap, Snow was left with his white-and-grey pinstripe shirt and messy pale-blond hair out in the open.

"I can't be one to judge, given my own history with jerkass gods." Though Snow did have some inkling that the fal'Cie did have some good meanings behind some of their actions, but being a l'Cie was pretty much being slated as one of their servants- or worse, if you didn't go through with your purpose.

What brought a hint of curtness to the smile on Snow's face was the ninja boy's demonstration of some sort of lightning ability. It made Snow glance to his own l'Cie brand at the thought of demonstrating, but he faltered out of habit. It almost felt a little bit strange, being a l'Cie but not being treated as a public enemy. Not that it was an unwelcome feeling, it was just disorienting after having spent so long avoiding authority.

Snow was probably one of the first to notice the buildup of commotion outside, in spite of his quasi-drunk condition. The present crowd seemed to be building up around an unseen individual; Snow craned his neck over behind him, thinking he could hear noises of fawning or joy. Was it some sort of celebrity or famous figure?

It didn't initially seem like it, when the subject stumbled into the drink shop. The thing was some odd, mocha-and-cream colored creature that looked for all the world like a rabbit standing up on their toes. What was plainly different was the stylistic tufts of fur upon the wrists and brow, as well as the waterfalls of fur drooping off of its perked ears. It was also quite small, a bit over half his own height, at best (though Snow's size probably wasn't the best indicator) and somewhat nubile.

An interesting sight to say the least, but Snow wasn't sure if it warranted the load of people outside looking at the thing with loving, pining eyes. The l'Cie knew at least that for himself, being the center of attention was a really bad thing. As it were, Snow did his best to pay no real mind as the bunny creature carefully stumbled her way upon the bar stool aside the boy.

"Well, at least not everything in this 'Omniverse' is trying to kill us," Snow spoke out loud, to the patrons aside him but mostly in reference to himself. As the words left his mouht, the tall man craned over a bit to get a better look at the rabbit past the hulking soldier and ninja boy. As kindly as he could muster, Snow asked "What do ya call yourself, little fella?"

[Doomguy]

Given my previous experience with ninjas had been limited to the kind of low budget, intentionally cheesy b-moves that only played on cable in the time when only stoners were awake and the excessive blather of obsessive basement dwellers, and my own personal skepticism on the subject of mystical Japanese assassins, I was genuinely surprised as Kito called me out. He gave me a smug grin that people only used when they knew they were right, and he held his hand out to demonstrate. Some kind of energy formed above his cupped palm, like a swirling swarming of fireflies, before electricity surged across it is a display of control over the element and it left just as quickly as it appeared. I was left impressed, giving my own smile at the nine year-old. It was interesting to see what others could do, and it gave me a good idea what to expect if I ever decided to stomp around the Tangled Green.

"Pretty good" I gave a compliment, genuine I assure you. But I'll stick to my guns.

I was actually thankful, although silent about it, when the blond haired man didn't push the conversation about Omni any farther that it already did. While shooting down topics might have been rude, I had already gotten into one spat about it today and I didn't want to get into another one. And this one wouldn't have a screen between me and them. Although the small part of me that was actually sociable was giving some shit for not at least giving the man something other than a brick wall to talk too.

"Does the general of all demons count as a god? Because I've had to deal with 'im too, in that case. Although when I say 'deal' I mean pump full of rockets. So our history might be different" I turned over to him and gave my own antidote. The battle with the Icon of Sin was one of the few memories that wasn't entirely fuzzy, so it was something I was was willing to talk about in the hopes that it helped with that.

It was at that point I noticed the blond man had been looking at something. I traced his line of sight and saw that a group of people had amassed in front of the shop and were doting over something. It sure as hell wasn't me, I typically cause people to move away in either discomfort or flat out fear. Blond tall guy was kind of strange looking, but even within the mob was people who looked far more interesting. Unless he was some sort of celebrity, which would explain his taste in attire. And I doubted the tyke assassin would want to draw attention. I had begun to wonder if we had sniped the seats of some kind of party that took this place as a personal tradition and I should ask for my meal to go.

when I heard the high pitch squeal of a horrified animal beside me, signaling that someone else was here. And if their reaction to the waitress was anything, it was probably what had attracted the horde of fans. I was ready to turn over to our mystery and give them a thorough mocking for their inability to handle a bit of attention. Then I saw them.

Short brown fur across the entire body, long, fluffy ears that it attempted to hide a muzzle and a red colored yet gentle eyes in anxiety. The rabbit like features caused my mind grind to a halt and my heart to jump straight up into my throat. Daisy. Memories of my pet from what seemed to be long ago flushed, the little creature something I had been looking over and taking care of when I returned to home on Earth whenever I had leave. Ending with what happened when I escaped Hell and found what the demons have left of her. I was so conflicted that I was fighting between sitting their in stunned silence or to walk over to the frighten animal and hug them, saying that everything will be alright. It took me a while to finally realize that I was staring and attempt to hide that awkwardness by downing the rest of my beer.

Of course, it wasn't Daisy. For one thing, Daisy wasn't bipedal and four feat tall. I had to separate reality from my fleeting memories, and try to avoid looking like a fool. That said, I couldn't help but give a small smile as I looked over the legomorph.

Looking back towards the crowd, two and two finally formed together. While the waitress had managed to chase off most the buzzards with the mention of legal action against them, the most determined refused to leave. It seemed that some people just don't understand the concept of privacy. Well, if politeness couldn't discourage them, an angry marine will. I threw on my best snarl towards them and completely crushed the beer can in my hand, and they fled with their metaphorical (and maybe literal) tail between their legs and left us in peace.

Blondy asked the "little fella" for their name, and I chose to wait and see how they answered.

[Isabelle]

"What do ya call yourself, little fella?"
Lopunny was jolted out of her breathing when she heard someone ask for her name. She looked up and finally noticed the group she was sitting next to. The ninja boy she had noted already, but the other two strange fellows had eluded her attention somehow. One was this really muscular human who looked incredibly fierce; he had strange metal devices all over his body, but the only one she could recognize was the man’s pistol, which she remembered the cops from her universe having those.
‘Could he be a police officer?’ she thought to herself.
She looked over to the other man who had pale blonde hair and a long trench coat. The only humans she could think of that wore trench coats were detectives. She began to think she stumbled onto two officers on their break. She guessed maybe the boy was their son; he looked about a year too young to be a full-blown trainer and no reason he’d be unattended in a bar at his age. But was it possible for two human males to have a child together? She knew that only Pokemon of opposite genders could have offspring, but humans were mysterious and amazing creatures, they probably don’t function the same way.

She noticed the three watching her intently, and she suddenly remembered that she had been asked a question just now.
“G-Good evening officers.” She said nervously, “I mean… morning… I-I am called Lopunny.”
Almost panicking, she swiveled in place on her stool and tried o give them a respectful bow, but she nearly fell over, causing kito to reach out and catch her before she plummets to the floor.
“Oh uh… th-thank you…” She said, as she climbed back into her seat.

[Doomguy]

It...well, she, I know that by now, was pretty shy. That was expected from her previous behavior, but it was still very noticeable by the way she talked. The kind of crippling shyness that anyone talking too loud would make them duck and cover with the same about of urgency as a soldier hiding from an artillery strike. Which meant I should probably be less...myself, if I wanted to avoid giving her any more trouble than she's had to deal with. Which seems to be quite a bit, from what I've noticed.

I was more amused than angry when she refereed to me as an officer. Either she hadn't had much experience with soldiers, and a police officer was the closest equivalent she could think of. Or this was normal for cops in her world, and it was the kind of distopian nightmare only the most insane tinfoil hatter could dream of. I assumed the former, since she actually was willing to talk to me and blondy, rather than running in the other direction. And I didn't know how she could confuse blondy for one. Although looking back to him, I did notice the long coat he was carrying around. Maybe he's one of those "badass" cowboy detectives. The kind that wears a beanie.

I was ready to point out she had it wrong, but Kito had beaten me to the punch, and I decided to just stare angrily at the back of his head. With his dumb headband. Even when he helped Lopunny from falling over, I just gave him the look.

"No, I'm not a police officer, I'm just a soldier" I answered truthfully, if leaving out any important descriptions on what that meant. Even to someone who wasn't a tightly wounded bundle of nerves, I generally don't like to tell people I kill others for a living. It makes them all antsy, despite how obvious it is that I kill people for a living when I tell them I'm a soldier. "Fighting the good fight. Or was, before I got here. If I my ask, what are you looking for? I asked with as much friendliness as my rough voice could muster. Which only made me sound slightly less like a cement mixer with rocks in it.

[Simon]

The bunny creature was still stuttering and stumbling when she responded to Snow's inquiry. Speaking with a panicked and desperately respectful voice, the feminine rabbit introduced herself as 'Lopunny'. It seemed Lopunny was quite confused and uninformed: she referred to the other folks at the bar as officers, presumably of the police variety. Snow dipped his head for a light-hearted chuckle at the silly prospect.

"Pfft... officers," the l'Cie mumbled under his breath. He really wasn't anywhere close to that, but he still liked to think he could fill that same role: a person charged to protect a town and it's citizens. Snow certainly had driven off that odd sea-monster at the beach before... maybe that's how he could build a reputation in this world.

The tall man snapped back to attention when Lopunny almost fell over trying to nod her head at them; thankfully, the boy ninja had acted quickly and caught her, righting the bunny creature on the stool. While the boy (who introduced himself as Kito) tried to calm Lopunny and cure her confusion, Doom Guy also spoke up to explain himself. Apparently trying to spite his gravelly voice, the soldier was making efforts to speak as kindly as possible. It was probably out of respect, but Snow had a feeling that the rough-and-tumble man perhaps had a soft spot for cutesy animals.

Not that Snow himself was one to judge. The only thing stopping him, in his quasi-drunken state, to walk up and snuggle the poor thing to pieces was the fact that it was very clearly an intelligent and aware creature. He wasn't about to try and scare the little bunny while she was half the size of himself or anyone else here, barring the ninja kid.

So, for the moment, Snow just sat there, admiring the thing in his same, smiley face. He had even mildly forgotten how he had just established that Lopunny was intelligent and that he should be polite to her.

[Isabelle]

“Soldier…” She said under her breath.
She remembered to a time when she was younger, when she would part from her master to go play with the other Pokemon. Some of the older ones would pass along tales from thousands of years ago; the kind of stories you would never tell a human child. Some reason, thinking back on those stories made her feel nostalgic.
“There was Soldiers of my kind a long time ago. Not Lopunnies, soldiers of Pokemon I mean. They were fighting some great evil. It’s been so long since I’ve heard the stories… Now we don’t really fight in that way…” she began, “Now we just kind of fight each other for fun. The humans tame us and get us to fight each other. Sometimes for a cause, but mostly for the fun of it I guess. I don’t know, never was my thing.”
After a brief pause, she turns to the three.
“I’m sorry I’m so nervous with you. I’m not used to humans talking to me as if I were an equal… or at all since I couldn’t speak their language. I guess I have omni to thank for that.” She said, her shaking slowing and her shoulders relaxing. “I guess it’s something to get used too. Don’t have a master to tell me what to do anymore…”
She gives them an awkward smile.
“Anyways, that’s why I’m going to Cinnabar. It’s a place Pokemon in the Omniverse live. That’s what I’m looking for at least.”

[Doomguy]

Down the street from where the four primes were congregated, on the corner of some unimportant crossroad where a tax office sat closed and looking largely unused, a security camera swiveled around from it's hidden place atop the roof and watched with mechanical precision over the strange gathering. Most people would pass by the building, absentmindedly wondering why there would be a tax office in the Omniverse, but then would go on with their own pet theories and not acting on any of them. Which was a boon for its true purpose. In the second floor, a secluded room held a collection of monitors that were connected to cameras across the several sectors of the island. Leaving no action left scrutinized. The guardian tasked with manning this security array looked on in disgust, tired of the witless bystanders who have called this place their home who drowned themselves in sea scented decadence. That his superior officer had personally tasked him to look out for someone in particular was a welcome distraction from the aliens and fat people in swimsuits.

The camera zoomed in on the target, who was talking with three others. The military grade cameras had a good look of him, he matched the description down to a T (although sans the helmet he had been spotted in earlier). Sound was less the stellar, leaving only a few snippets to be heard in between static.

"Well, that's him, commander" the eagle-eye watch reported to the man in another screen. "Don't know what's so special about him. Looks like another block-headed action hero wannabe to me" He looked to the officer (or more accurately, the web cam). He tried to read the stone face and the piercing eyes, but failed as always.

"Previous reports had him socializing and leaving port with a known pirate crew. If he's part of some plot or in with Choprot, I want to know. I cannot have a Prime being friendly with the organized crime on this island, we have enough problems keeping the peace" The officer answered. The watcher nodded in agreement. With a low presence of stormtroopers in this verse compared to others, and what few they have mostly allocated to the navel wing, they had to make due with subtle tactics like this. "Who else is he with"

The watcher brings up a few files "One known Prime, has a speeding violation under their profile. Another, recent arrival attacked the guards to the Tangled Greens gate, no major injuries. One Pokemon, no known association with the PLF. If they have anything in common, it seems by coincidence" The watcher through over the possibilities, finding nothing that isn't a stretch. "So, is this something you're worried about, or is the Admiral breathing down your neck again?"

The slightest bit of anger slipped past the officer's impenetrable defenses "Report directly to me on any developments" The screen went black as communications were cut off, and the watcher kept at his charge.

---

It's strange to think that soldiers are none existent in another world, when one is so immersed in the military culture as I am. In every country and nation, soldiers were a constant. Even in fiction, soldier stayed, bar in the most gooey anti-war drek. The terrible ones were everything turned out alright if everyone just loved each other and got rid of all the guns. But there I was, sitting down as I heard Lopunny tell me about the soldiers in her world as stories. As a mythical being. As something that once was. It's strange, to put it lightly. Perhaps this is what it would be like if a black smith arrived in the future and saw all the machines that took his job. A slight tinge of feeling obsolete, and yet proud had how far they've come. Certainly, I could only be happy if a world had successfully done away with war.

But then that flew out the window, baby, bath water, and all, when she mentioned Pokemon being trained and fight each other. Now, a bit explanation. If your world is like mine, they only kind of animal fighting involve two (more more) usually abused and hungry animals tearing at each other, until one of them is dead in a puddle of it's own blood. It's considered animal abuse and illegal for good reason. While I had already decided that Lopunny wasn't just an animal, being a sentient being and all, I was still kind of in that mindset of connecting her to the closet equivalent in my own world. Even when I reminded himself that she WAS sentient, that didn't help. Because people being trained and forced to fight each other is even worse! I reached for a less terrible explanation, settling on it being like boxing, and they fought by choice. Although it didn't help when she mentioned this being the first time she's been treated as an equal by humans...

"Don't sweat it" I swallowed the anger boiling in my throat, after I decided that perhaps that wasn't a topic that needed bringing up. She already looked pretty stressed, and I didn't need to add onto that. "I guess giving everyone a chance is something Omni did right" I said with a bit of irritation in my voice. Still wasn't happy about argument.

Cinnabar Island. It sounded familiar. Was it mentioned during my time with Choprot's crew, or did I notice it when I was skimming it through the Dataverse? Beats me. "Well, it sounds like a good a place as any. There's probably at least one ship going out that way, and if not I have a favor with a local captain. Big green guy, you can't miss him"

[Isabelle]

“Oh really? Thank you so much Mr… uhh.” Lopunny began, but she realized she didn’t know his name.
“Doom Guy” he responded.
“Ah! That’s… not a common name.” She said, slightly baffled.
“It’s a nickname.” He responded. He took out his communicator. “Do you have one of these?”
She scans it carefully. It looked kind of like one those pokedex/phone devices the humans from her world would often carry. Her master used to let her play on it from time to time. She raged so much at the one with a funky looking pidgey flying through green pipes. However, she hasn’t come in contact with one in the Omniverse yet so she shook her head.
But then she remembered that she could summon things.
“Oh! One second!” She yelled.
Using her breathing exercises to clear her head, she focuses on the phone devices she used to see. a ball of Omnilirium appears from her body. After a few minutes, the ball takes shape and forms into what looks vaguely like a modern day smartphone. It plops anticlimatically onto the bar’s surface. Picking it up with her dainty little fingers, she finagles with for a minute or so.
“Umm,” she began, “So how do I use this thing.”
Doom guy and Snow spend a little time helping her figure out the device, showing her how to use the dataverse, how to access games, even adding them as contacts and getting her a profile picture. Doom Guy showed her how to use the map function, pointing her towards where the pier was located.
Recollecting her device and stashing it in the inside of her ear, she gave the three another bow. Kito seemed prepared to catch her again, but she didn’t tip over this time.
“Thank you so much you three.” She said with a genuine smile. “Well, good bye!”
And with this, she leapt off her stool and walked towards the exit.


Transversing the streets once more, she felt the ever presence of eyes coming down on her. She felt a twinge of fear come over her, but not nearly as strong as before. She just stayed focused on where she was going this time and tried to ignore the onlookers to the best of her ability.
As she approached the docks, she was overcome by the overpowering smell of dead fish and seawater. Before her was a long line of shops, looking run down and worn. Each one featuring baskets of food. Some shops had all fruits and veggies, some had fish of varying sizes, some had rare herbs, and many had food Lopunny had never seen before. Thousands of people, again of varying shapes and sizes, crowded the stalls. Unlike with the tourists on Main Street, no one even gave her a second glance, as if they were used to the sight of pokemon here. Relieved to no longer be a spectacle, she kept on moving forward.
Eventually, more and more ships came into view, some were small, sporting men hauling large nets full of fish, some were big navel ships with men in uniform working hard for the day’s shift. She even saw a few cruise liners where finely dressed people boarded for great sights and adventures. However, she saw very few boats manned by Pokemon, and the few she saw didn’t look like anything she wanted to get involved with. She was just about to ask around when…
“Are you trying to get to cinnabar?” A voice in her head said.
She snapped around. A blue creature with a long neck and a shell on it’s back was wading in the water.
“…yes! I am!” She said.
She pulled out her dataverse device and opened the Pokedex function.
“Lapras: It ferries people along on its back. It may sing an enchanting cry if it is in a good mood.” The Pokedex said in a robotic and tingy voice.
“You heard it.” The Lapras said, again through psychic messaging.
“Well, if you are willing… I’d be much appreciative.” Lopunny said nervously.
Slowly, she sat down on the dock and then lowered herself over the side and onto the creature’s back.
“Hold on tight ma’m.” She said before suddenly bursting in speed, nearly knocking her off in the kickback.

To be continued in the Cinnabon Isle Arc

[Doomguy]

What exactly was I getting out of helping a little bunny girl, considering that it was so unlikely that the two of us would ever see each other again? I doubt anyone would believe that it was out of the goodness out of my heart, nor would I believe it myself. I've been told that selfless kindness bring great rewards, but the hobo who did so was trying to convince me to buy him smokes. I've met plenty of good people who became soldiers and gone home as jaded and hateful or in a box. Good deeds were not high up on my priority list most of the time. But at that moment, I felt like I had to. Maybe it was because Lopunny reminded me of Daisy, maybe it's that I didn't want to have a bad reputation attached to me by being cold to someone and that spreading to someone else. Perhaps there was just the smallest chance that I was alone in a crowded world, and I wanted someone to anchor me down to reality. Hey, don't give me that look. I can be poetic. Sometimes. If I want to.

Blondy and I helped the brown furred lady once she's summoned the device ousting herself as a prime but I couldn't care less about that. My slightly inebriated friend focusing on more of the "entertainment" side of smart phone ownership while I tried to steer her towards the pier. I could have just told her, but this was a "give a fish, teach to fish" kind of situation. She was better off with a lifeline, or so my combat training told me. She was kind of clueless at first, but she seemed like a fast learner, and was already experimenting with it once I was done with showing her the GPS (OPS, maybe?) and gave her my contact info. She put it away and thanked us profusely, then left for her destination.

Not going to lie. It felt good.

The waitress finally showed back up, holding a bowl in her hand which she dropped down in front of me. I looked down at the potential dinner and my heart sunk when I saw what it was. Little tentacles floated around in a brown broth, while what I assumed was a verity of sea vegetable bobbed along side.

"Squid soup?" I asked with muted distress and nausea, with flashbacks to another disgusting tentacled thing. Perhaps ordering the cheapest meal was not the smartest thing I could do. Snow on the other hand looked on with clear amusement while I was sure Kito was hiding his own behind his stoic look.

"Squid soup" The waitress confirmed with a little smile, who I gave the payment and tip and sat to eat my "dinner". I quickly gulped it down with the displeasure you'd expect from choking down rubbery tubes and seaweed, and hoped it wouldn't come back up later. With that, I decided it was time to hit the dusty road.

"Kito, you have fun, and don't get in trouble," I told the ninja tyke. I'm sure he'd get far, however that would work. He gave me a respectful nod, probably ready to get into trouble "And Snow" Only NOW did I know his name, and it was when he told Lopunny what his dataverse contact was. I lacked any good advise for the man, so I just went with the default "Don't get too drunk" He seemed to understand, and gave a toast with what reminded of his mixed drink. I picked up my gear, donned my helmet once more, and I was off again into Costa del Sol.

Slipping back into the crowd, I kept my eyes out for the next distraction. There wasn't much her for a trained soldier. Surfing stores, diving schools, lots of things involving water. That's expected, but the water wasn't something I wanted to be in right now. Curio shops lined the streets, from vapid merchandise to some tribal trinkets that were about as real as everything else in this artificial world. I was between debating just to get the hell out of here when a voice called out from the other side of the street.

"Test your skill, test your skill! Out range the Hunter in a game of skill and win a prize!" The voice shouted out, something about it magically allured me towards the caller. Not just metaphorically, I'm sure. I was pulled into a crowd which packed tightly around a booth, decorated in gaudy decorations making a caricature of a savanna plains and covered in ads for a place called the Goldwell Pier Resort, which judging by the scantily clad women wrapping themselves around slot machines was probably this place's equivalent of Las Vegas. Or at least Reno. From a stage jutting out from the front of the booth stood a humanoid lizard perched behind a podium, she being the caller than attracted everyone here. Brilliant emerald and yellow scales contrasted with the dark red and star patterned black of her ringleader's outfit. Beside her was her associate, "The Hunter". Appropriate, as the meathead looked like every hunter stereotype known to man. Hat with animals teeth in it, camo clothing, bandoleer, handlebar mustache, pelt across the shoulder of some bear like creature even though it was too small to be one. The only thing he was missing was the orange vest. The crowed look intimidated by him, and the challenge the ringleader gave. I was less that impressed.

"Does anyone here think they can beat the Hunter himself at sharpshooting?" The lizardwoman dares the people gathered, eyeing them over for any takers. Judging by the rather embarrassed looks the crowd members gave, most of them didn't. I wasn't exactly ready to jump into it either, but then I didn't need to show off. I was the best soldier here, I knew that, and I didn't need to prove that to anyone.

"You'll receive a complementary prize just for participating," She tried to sweeten the pot "But, those who succeed get this unique and gorgeous weapon" The Hunter holds up a black plastic weapon case, opening up to reveal a modern military grade double barreled shotgun. Aside from vaguely wondering if that's legal, I couldn't help but think how much the weapon reminded me of the super shotgun. When I looked over the body, my eyes grew wide as I saw the USSMC etched into the side. It WAS a super shotgun.

Well, I wasn't going to let any of these idiots have it.

"Ah, a challenger!" The reptile exclaimed as I vaulted up the stage, staring down the jackass calling himself "the Hunter". The Pansy, more like. "And a collector of fine weapons, as well! Surely, this will be a match to remember" I stood in front of the booth, where inside a row of targets, each one further way from us than the one before it, connected to machinery rested while two laser weapons sat on the ledge.

"Do I have to uses these peashooters?" I asked aloud, not at all happy if I had to use them rather than the weapons I was so used to, and the host gave me a sheepish smile.

"Insurance reasons" Was all I got. I shrugged it off. I'll beat this jackass with them anyway.

We both took our stances at the front of the booth, own sights aimed at the targets as the machine holding them came to life. They moved in a set pattern that was simple to follow. Which made me wonder why no one had won the shotgun yet. These kind of games were always rigged in favor of the house, and I had to figure it out quickly. The onlookers and host fell silent as they waited for the action, and in a flash a flag swooshed across out line of sight to signal the start.

We both fired at the same time, the closest target letting out an electrical buzz as the laser hit them and receded back into the machine. I was quicker on the tap with the second one, but the shot went wide and hit the back wall while "the Jackass" hit his. The sights were off. I should I have figured that out before, but I had to work with it now. I couldn't fix a sight on the fly like this without just making it inaccurate in the other direction. Assuming they'd even let me without calling me a cheater. I fired again, another miss but I was homing in on the zone. But while I was one down the Hunter had already knocked over five. But I once I found the right spot, picked my kill zone and fired on any target and came over it. I had an advantage: While mr. hunter was too busy trying to knock them over in sequence, I hit any that fell over my firing lane with only instinct. I quickly caught up and surpassed the other competitor. As he was desperately trying to hit the last two, I scoped out the finally target to finish it's pattern over my cross-hairs, and a little green flag flew up as I claimed victory.

The crowd cheered, the reptilian host clapped, even the Hunter was a bit impressed at how I managed to catch up to him. He handed me the black case, and gave me a nod of respect. I wasted no time in examining the weapon inside. The Super Shotgun. Double barreled death incarnate. A familiar click as I opened up the barrels and closed them again bough a wave of nostalgia as I though of the damage I've done with this weapon. I was almost ready to strip clean it then and there when the lizardwoman walked to my side.

"Congratulation on the win. And of course, your participation reward as well" She handed me a ticket for one free night at the Goldwell Pier Resort. Free night, but everything else would probably leave with nothing but your underwear. I pocketed it and tried to pay her no mind and I walked off the stage. But I heard her follow me down, and I turned to face the ringleader. It seemed she had other plans.

"We could always use a man like you around the place. Perhaps I could offer you a job-" but before she continued, I raised my hand and stopped her.

"Look, I'm just trying to find my way around here. The only thing I want to to find Omni and give him a piece of my mind. Unless you can offer than, I'm not doing any jobs for anyone" I put my foot down, but her toothy smile only widened as she heard that.

"I know a way to help you with that..."

[Simon]

That had been interesting, to say the least.

After the bunny creature had been semi-properly introduced to the rest of the men at the bar, she found herself exposed to the idea of the Dataverse. Lopunny seemed to have some familiarity with the idea, and once she had formed a device of her own (the fact that she was a Prime didn't particularly ring any sort of note to Snow) she tried to mess around with it. Seeing as how she was having a bit of trouble with her stubby paws, the l'Cie picked himself off of his stool to help, slinging his coat over a shoulder.

Between Doom Guy and Snow's efforts, Lopunny was a given a sort of small tour of how the Dataverse Device worked and what could be done with it. The two of them even gave the rabbit their own contacts; this happened to be be the first time since entering the bar that Snow actually thought to announce his name ("By the way, my name's Snow... Snow Villiers,").

It continued on in a sort of blur. The tall blonde remembered chuckling a bit at the buff soldier's strange lunch, watching him wolf it down hurriedly just to be done with it. He must've not wanted to stick around any more, as Snow also recalled raising a sort of toast to Doom Guy with what remained of his drink. Snow himself was somewhat the same, paying as soon as he was finished and nodding in respect to the house as he left.

The man simply resumed wandering aimlessly, the alcohol now just a small, aching buzz in his head. He still held his longcoat over his shoulder and his cap in a pocket, in hopes he could keep cool in the heat of this day. Snow visited a couple of shops to browse randomly, maybe buy some trinkets or something every once in a while.

He wouldn't realize it, but the l'Cie was waiting for something. Something to give him a Focus.

-----------------

Out in the open ocean, a rotund whale breached the surface of the water. Following suit were a Sharpedo, a Lanturn and a Floazel. Their de-facto leader, riding atop the Wailmer: Frogadier, one of Wartortle's personal agents. Whereas his leader stood as a violent templar for the liberation of all lesser and abused creatures from humankind, Frogadier himself was far more cool, cunning and representative of the group's diplomatic side.

But then again, in a pinch he could always lead a 'liberation' operation of his own. Wartortle wouldn't complain about that.

"So, Frog, what's the plan now?" Lanturn asked genuinely and with a bit of concern. "You've been looking a bit sour since that bunny slipped by-..."

"That I am," The ninja frog admitted plainly, not bothering to disguise said annoyance in his voice. He didn't normally get like this, most anyone could testify to. But between the Lopunny Prime's apparent refusal and that damned Lapras still standing well against them, Frogadier was starting to get particularly bothered.

The torpedo shark spoke up with a naturally rough tone, "Y'know, that was totally Lapras's fault there. If he's getting to be that much a problem, we could always-"

"Perish the thought," Frogadier commanded, with a hint of disgust. The other Pokemon did well to be reminded of their promised oath in the PLF: not to bring their own kind to harm. The truth behind Frogadier's sickened tone, however, was for the oath itself, not the implications behind it. How he indeed wanted to gut that rebellious snake with the promise it would never interfere again, but Wartortle's will was stronger. He had to approach this differently: and luckily enough, he already had.

"That's not to say, however, that we won't be distributing our brand of retribution," The leader said in a sly drag, catching the other Pokemon's attention. Their faces lit up (literally, for Lanturn) at the prospect Frogadier had just suggested. Perfect.

Floatzel rubbed his paws together menacingly. "So you got another operation lined up for us, huh, Boss?" While Sharpedo know how to be brutal, Floatzel was definitely the most willing to fight for the PLF's cause- if mostly for getting to kick the crap out of those filthy humans.

"I believe so," Frogadier reassured his comrades, "We need but one last factor to the plan-"

"I'm here, I'm here-!"

"And here it is," The frog ninja gestured expectantly, looking over to see a basketball-sized orange orb with a smiley face on it cloaked in a field of green plasma. Behind it was a small blue serpent wearing a waterproof Dataverse Device around it's neck. "So, then... Tell us what you found, Rotom."

"Yup, yup!" Rotom piped up, zipping and sparking excitedly. "That bunny we saw, right-? She been sending tweets! I saw two of them, she was talking to a couple of other guys! Guess, guess what? They were HUMANS! She was all like 'Thanks so much I owe you' and all sucking up to 'em and like- y'know!?"

Among the jumble of words that the hyperactive Rotom spewed out, the squad of Pokemon very much noted the mention of humans. Several muted mumbled between them moved to confirm that the Lopunny had been spending time with humans before she went to Cinnabar - long enough to owe them a debt. And with how debts were keen to be repaid...

"It's obvious, you can see," Frogadier announced to them, "Lopunny had been allowed to socialize with humans, enough so that they have corrupted her ideas of humanity. And with how rare Pokemon Primes can be, having such a thing happen is unacceptable for us!" The frog's words seemed to ring truth for the fellow liberators, and fury began to spark in their eyes. If the humans were capable of convincing Pokemon to take their sides, then it was possible that the PLF would not be able to recruit any more incoming Pokemon, especially Primes!

Frogadier turned back to Rotom. "One final detail- do you know where these humans in question are?"

"OPS says they're on Costa del Sol!"

"Then it's settled. We have our next target; time to rally up and give those miscreants what they deserve," The frog ninja declared, earning a united cry of agreement from his comrades. Within a fleeting second, the squad all disappeared below the sea's surface, leaving just the ambience of splashing waves as any indication they were ever there.

[Doomguy]

Not too long after I won my super shotgun, most of the crowd dissipated back into their normal lives. The people who were hoping to win themselves a weapon were long gone and those that were just interested in the glory of beating "The Hunter" were dishearten after the last few failures. Those that stayed helped deconstructing the booth, making them either good samaritans, or far more likely they were here since the start and were shrills in the crowd in order to help convince people to try. I sat off to the side, being neither, and cleaned my guns as I waited for everything to be packed away and I could get the the answers I wanted. Strip cleaning has always helped me think, giving something to focus all the random crap flying through my head. If this scaly broad was telling the truth, I might have a lead to Omni. But she was definitely going to ask me to do some job. Nothing like this comes for free. And the last time I had done something like this, I got chased by an eldritch abomination and nearly got an entire crew killed. Guessed it'll come down to what they asked, but I might have to be willing to give up the lead to avoid any more trouble.

Once the handy men had rolled the entire thing up onto a single cart, I was once again approached by the two lovely host. Scaly was still in her ringleader's outfit, while "the Hunter" had done away with the ridiculous outfit for something look a more formal pants and long sleeve shirt attire. She looked hopeful, him not so much.

"Well, have you decided on hearing our deal?" the reptilian performer gave me the same smile she was giving out to the crowd during the game. She was trying her best to sell, but the short, serrated teeth in her smile was more disconcerting than friendly at this range.

"How about I hear names before I start selling my soul?" I replied, putting my gun cleaning kit away as I began to snap the super shotgun back together. She didn't look too happy at what I was insinuating, but her smile came back just as quickly as if left.

"I am Shea'lak" or rather, that's as close to as what it sounded like, I'm sure what I hear is unpronounceable by humans without missing a few subtitles,"but girls down at the docks call me Sheila. And this is Mark" Mark gave me a nod in confirmation "He's the strong, silent type. Very strong" Sheila leaned against the man as she said that, giving a very affectionate reflection in her voice as she does so and the tail that had been content to just hang limp behind her curls up a bit. Mark continues to the strong, silent type.

"Right. You can call me Doom Guy" They both give me raised eyebrows at that "Nickname. You can live with it. Now how exactly are you going to help me get to Omni?" I wasn't exactly happy, but I was at least trying to be patient. And despite what some people might say, I had plenty of patience. I just rarely used it all in one place.

"As you might now, we work for Goldwell Resort. It's a place of many pleasures. But not everyone in the Omniverse is as easily enticed by food or flesh. We have many... wonders inside, and you're not going to get to them with just that ticket" I looked down at the ammo pouch that I stuffed the ticket into. I had though I'd just pawn if off to someone who was far more interested in cheap thrills, but looks like I wasn't going to get the chance. "inside, there's this thing. I've no idea what to call it, but what what I've heard, it knows everything. It can practically tell the fut- hey, wait" At that point I was just packed up and and started to walk out. I didn't need to be given crap like this, and I sure as hell wasn't going to risk my ass and the possible well-being of others for a hail mary.

"When you got something worth giving me, then I might work something out" I kept moving, but I felt the clawed hands on Sheila pull me back and turn me around. She seemed stubborn about this.

"If you don't believe me, that's fine, but I can prove it to you. Meet me tomorrow, and I'll show you" I looked the performer up and down, wondering what her deal was and why she was talking such an effort to get me to do it. But I was going to give her a fair shake at least.

"Alright. Tomorrow. If you're full of it, I'm out of there" And with that, I was gone. Down the street and once again on my own.

[Doomguy]

The bright lights of the artificial sun and the blue sky hanging overhead began to wain as the sun was beginning to end's journey to the horizon. Streetlight flickered on, the brilliant yellow light contrasting against the muted oranges and maroons that were streaking across the darker marine and lazy clouds that still floated along, all reflected across the rippling waters of the sea. It was quite a beautiful sight, even if it was designed by committee for that exact reason. A rare scene for myself as I had spend more of my life in the more land locked parts of my home, or off in space were seeing the sun meant you were a few inches of plastic from dying via explosive decompression. Or the red sky of Hell, the memories of such displacing the earlier thoughts and continuing to ruin all that was good in the world. Even when I had escaped from the place, it was still making my life miserable. I quickly pushed those back and tried to reminisce on the better times, but the moment was soured. I gave a very audible grunt at my frustration, a fair warning to everyone else, and I kept on moving through town.

Even thought the evening was beginning with the setting of the sun, the island was no less busy for it. Although the beach goers had abandoned the sandy seaside as the heat fell to a more biting temperature and the swimsuits were switched to a more full bodies, but no less casual, attire. Restaurants and theaters readied themselves for their peak business, groups of friends traveled to parties and whatever entertainment they they scrounged up, and fishermen sneaked over to get some night fishing in now that the waters have becomes less occupied with boats. I was wondering what I would be doing that night, in particular where I was going to sleep. The other day I had the benefit of captain Choprot's shops for food and bed, and now I was on my own for resources. Having OM meant food wasn't a problem, but a sleeping place was probably going to cost me if I wanted anything that wasn't a hole in a ground. Maybe I could find a park and sleep on a bench. Wouldn't be the first time.

As I was thinking over what I was going to do for the night, I saw movement coming right at me. Instinct kicked in and I reached for the pistol at my belt but thankfully I managed to stop myself when the two shapes held their hands up, to intentionally catch my attention. two humans, teenagers, both with unkempt facial hair yet very expensive tee-shits and jeans. College kids would be what I would call them, if I didn't doubt that the Omniverse had anything resembling higher education. Their frantic waves and heavy breathing told me something was up, but I couldn't help but wonder why they came up to me instead of someone who didn't look like a roving crazed gunman. Not that I'm crazy.

"Dude, you got to help us" one of them shouted in his panicked state, the look in his face giving a plea of urgency. The other was having too much trouble speaking as he was chanting "oh my god" over and over and clutching his head as if it was about to explode. "Our friend is in trouble"

Now, I'm sure you're expecting me to chase after the kids straight away to help their friend and there'd be a happily ever after. I going to have to disappoint you on that, as I am far more cynical than your typical comic book hero. Maybe I would have been more willing, if this exact tactic hadn't been used before on a squad I was once in to lead us into an ambush. It is heartless, I agree, but it was a problem easily solved. Wait out the pleader in silence and see how they change their reaction. If they start to falter, or over-blow the acting, then it's safe to assume they're bullshiting you. Otherwise, you should probably consider helping the people in need.

It didn't take long for the act to unravel. Both were still panicked, but it went unfocused, the agency lost and self preservation was settling in. They glanced around themselves, I guessed in hope of finding a way out of the situation. But they seemed less concerned about me, the person who'd was probably going to drag them off into a corner and beat them (not really), so I had wondered why they didn't focus that panic on me.

It was answered as I felt some grip around my shoulder, a massive hand warping itself around my armored pad and a good deal of my neck and back, and the sudden feeling of weightlessness as I was uprooted from my spot on the sidewalk, dragged into the alleyway nearby, then thrown across the length of it until I made a sudden stop and slammed back first into a dumpster with a loud gong followed with dropping back down to the floor. My armor took the blunt of the trauma to my back and front, but the agony and ringing in my ears was not too similar to having the worse hangover ever, and I remember wanting the entire NATO marching band to stop playing on top of my head. My sight readjusted from the change in light and the blow to the back of the head and saw my assailant.

Assailants, actually. The first, wielding a baseball bat in one hand, looked completely pear shaped in form, standing at my height, and was literally yellow in skin. Shades rested upon his massive, bulbous nose, but the most noticeable feature was the miniature palm tree growing straight out of his head and the palm skirt around his waist, which contrasted with the sharp, black suit he wore over his torso. The other, the one who had thrown me, was very much the best example of the word "ogre". ten feet tall, ugly in every single way, broad as a barn and skin with the thickness, texture, and even color leather. His face looked like it was hit with a sledgehammer and poorly put back together, even his eyes weren't quite the same size. He was clothed in just a wifebeater and some very wide shorts, but I was more worried about the chains wrapped around his fists as makeshift knuckleduster to be worried about its sense of fashion. Coming up the rear, pushing the two teenagers forward with a machine pistol, was a human. Shaved head and pasty skin over gaunt muscles, is suspected based on the constant twitch in his eyes that either he was either on or hoping for a fix. A group of more obvious career criminals you could not find.

The palm tree man gave a look back over to the two teens and the tweaker, not at all happy with the situation. I thought I could reach for my shotgun while his head was turned, but the giant spotted me and put his foot down on my hand, pinning it to my chest. The giant sack of shit was smarter than it looked, not that that's an accomplishment.

"Ya think you can out smart us, going to a soldier boy" The plant man scolded the two in a very stereotypical mafia gangster accent. The only thing he was missing was the hat and a Thompson. "We're done with him, we'll deal with you two. Jimmy, keep that gun on these two. If soldier boy tries something funny, blow them away" He threatened, "Jimmy" nodding with a big enthusiastic smile, and pushed the two teens town and aimed away.

"Alright, what's the deal? You can't be doing this for no reason" I decided to cut to the chase, hiding only a little of my contempt for the thugs. They may have sold me out, but you don't threaten civilians while I'm around.

"Deal? No deal. We're just gonna rough you up and take everything you're worth for. Give 'im the once over" he commanded the big guy. It was a little more mundane than I was expecting, but unsurprising. Some people are just assclowns, and sometimes they pick you. However, it was still not a good situation. Hostages under threat, and I was about to be pounded into slurry. I had find an advantage some where. Palm head was profession, big guy was too dumb to trick. That left "jimmy"

"You know, I'm insulted" I gave my best show, trying to get the attention away from the teens. The tweaker kept glancing between me and his charges "If you're going to be cohere me into keeping those two jackasses alive, you should at least take the safety off"

A profession soldier would have never fallen for that. Or at the very least, would have just flipped the safety off without ever leaving the target. But with being addled by chemicals and already twitchy my nature, the gun trotting thug turned his weapon to the side and up to see if he had done so. With his gun pointed away, I quick drew my pistol and let out a shot. The bullet scored him in the leg, and gripped with pain he fell backwards, squeezing the trigger of his automatic all the way down and blasting a trail of bullet holes all the way up the wall. A hail of concrete sprinkled over everyone, and in the chaos I twisted my body and sent the ogre tumbling. Putting all his weight on top of me made him easy to manipulate, and he was face first on the ground as I got up to my feet.

The leader of the gang was the only one with his wits still about him, and he was quick to swing the bat at the pistol hand. With the dumpster right behind me me I didn't have a lot of room to maneuver, and the bat collided with the hand and sent the pistol flying off to the side. I felt all the little bone crying in pain, but nothing was broken. The bat wielder was ready to swing again with a overhead attack, but I was quicker as I reached out and grabbed the bottom of the handle, preventing him from attacking and following through with a kick to his gut. He fell over backwards, rolling over on his rounded body and dropping the bat as his head smacked the pavement.

Twitchy was recovering, pulling the machine pistol to gun me down. The dirt bag could have been smart and threatened the cowering hostages. But I think in his mind vengeance was a bigger priority. Junkies were never particularly clever that way. He let out a burst of shots, hitting where I once was and I dove for my pistol. Not to pick it up and shoot him. That would have taken too long. I already was reaching for my shotgun as I jumped out of the way, and when I was steady on the ground I unloaded the shotgun shell on him. The force pushed into my shoulder, the roar of gunpowder ripped through the air, and the pellet sprayed blood everywhere as they impacted on the thug's chest. He was sent spiraling to the ground, dead.

I scooped the pistol up and put is back in it's holster, a small smile creeping as I felt it back in it's place. The ogre was starting to get up, its large bulk making it hard to get upright. I didn't give it a chance, as I brought the stock down onto the back of its head. And again, and again. It was left dazed and reeling in agony, crumpled on the floor not dead but not going anywhere either. I turned back to the plant headed man, but he was off down the alleyway, retreating back into the safety of the seedy parts of town. I could have chased after him, but the safety of other was more important. Not that I couldn't let him go without a few parting word.

"That's right, you fuckwit! Run away and cower, tell your friends that you messed with the wrong soldier today!" Then I felt a gun being jammed into my back.

"Freeze. Drop your weapons and put your hands on your heads" a voice through a slight electronic filter ordered at me. So, unknown amounts of authority behind me, got a weapon right ready to give my insides a new ventilation shaft. If these guys were anything like the troops at the gate, and they had the same voice, then they were heavily armed and armored. No chance winning that one. Just had to pick my battles and lose gracefully. I complied with the order with a slight agitated grunt, putting the weapons away and hands on head. It was quickly grappled, a little sting from my hurt hand racing up my arm as they cuffed, and I was turned around to see an entire squad was here. Apparently a gunshot gets you a lot of attention in Costa del Sol, or so I thought at the time. They rounded up the other three, leaving some other department to handle the corpse. We were marched into an armored car, all of us about to have a very close encounter of the uncomfortable kind.

As I head was pushed into back of the patty wagon, I noted one of the white armored troopers talking to another, checking over a screened device, and I overheard what they said.

"Is that the guy? The one in the green armor?" "Yep, that's him. The Lieutenant wants to see him"

[Doomguy]

If I had to give the Empire credit for something, it that they knew how to make a riot vehicle (and other war machines, but that story is for later). The lot of us were pushed through the back hatch into the vehicle's hold, where two parallel metal benches and trick railing lining the roof were the only thing there to greet us. Those of us with handcuffs had one hand freed only to have the free cuff then attached to the rail, and we all pushed inside of the mobile jail. It wasn't a comfortable fit, especially as I had to sit across the big sack of shit, but then these kinds of vehicles never had the riders in mind. Gargantuan was sans cuffs, as it seemed the white armored ground pounders didn't have any in his size, but that was a problem fixed by the soldiers riding in the back with their rifles out and pointed at the ogre at all times, leaning on the fear of death and a reputation of trigger fingers keeping the big fella. And if me and the two scrubs got killed in the crossfire, no skin of their backs.

Fine by me. With all their attention on the big guy, I was out of their line of sight and they had chosen to not disarm me. I had some time to mess on my PDA while we were being carted off to whatever destination the glorified police force thought fit. Writing with your off hand is a pain, but so long as I had both hands full the stormtroopers didn't see me as a threat. A failure on their part, but I didn't plan on fighting them while my hand was tied above my head. I could, but a rocket launcher in a closed room is not a good way to make friends.

After a few emails and more than enough time wasted on watching ONN's back catalog, I looked up from my screen as I felt the APC came to the final stop and the engines died down. Everyone was corralled out at gun point into what seems to be a small motor pool, and pushed through a set of double doors into the building proper. As I was prodded along, I gave the room a quick sweep to see what kit they had and an escape route if I needed it. What I saw was two more APCs like the one we took a ride in mingled with a few smaller transports in an area that couldn't support them, the barest minimal of repair equipment, and a pole coming out of a hole in the ceiling, the kind that was more characteristically seen in firehouses than a some kind of military headquarters. Despite the effort they took to give a show of force, a show was all it was. This was a firehouse. Their operation was as hobbled together as a pipebomb, and just as poorly maintained. Going into the next room only proved it: the lobby had taken what was probably a storeroom, divided up by cubicle walls in order to make briefing rooms, and the front "desk" was a card table manned by the most depressed looking corporal I've ever seen downing themselves in a very visible bottle of rotgut. West Point, this was not.

My three "companions" were shuffled off to the holding cells, where they would get the chance to have a very colorful conversation with each other, while I was moved up into the second floor flanked by two guards. A short walk past the barracks led me to a door with a plaque labeled "Lt. Jones", the familiar sound of an officer's muffled held-back rage as we was told down not just by his CO, but by someone several ranks above him. You can tell by the angry tint in how they say their CO's title and an over aggressive use of "sir". I didn't even have to hear the other side of the conversation, being both a veteran observer and practitioner of it. As the guard opened the door, I barely got something about an Admiral (likely the man who was chewing him out) and something about a bounty hunter, before there was a hasty apology and the call was ended.

"Connor, you unprofessional hack, how many times have I tol-" The officer halted his rant as he spun in his squeaky chair as saw the subject of his interruption. His temper was quickly swept under the rug and he attempt to uphold the image of his station. Which wasn't very good, as his room revealed how "independent" the man was from the military he served. Like all officer's office, it was decorated to their whim as a bonus for their service, but rather than honors or memorials to previous victories (I suspected there were none) but rather with pictures of family and home on top a real desk, what wasn't taken up by filing cabinets. The man himself was fit and stocky with a tan complexion, black hair with a few white hair and the darkest, most well kept beard I've ever seen. He assume the stock "interested" pose officers liked to do, slightly stooped over with their fingers overlapping each other, but after the twentieth time I've seen that it's lost any kind of intimidation factor for me.

"Please, sit, sit." He offers, holding his hand out to the lone hair across from him in an attempt at friendliness. , I took the seat in order to play along and in the hope he would dismiss the guard. He did not. "So, I am sure you are wondering why you are here"

"I was wondering" I confirmed, folding my arms in annoyance and trying my best to stare the man down form behind the helmet.

"We have been tracking your movements since you've gotten here though" he answer, opening a file he had prepared. I should have figured that the front gate's security was a bit lacking. "And we know that you have been associating with a known wanted criminal" The first picture he put down was of me and Choprot with his little group, followed with another of us boarding his ship. I was alternating between annoyance that that green bastard was still getting me into trouble, and wondering where those cameras were. I eventually decided on questioning what his point was.

"Last I checked, just being in the same room with a criminal is not enough to get you call in by the local rent-a-mooks" The Lieutenant didn't seem phased by that comment, and if anything the corner of his mouth upturned briefly as a secret smile.

"By the authority invested to me by the Empire, I can hold you indefinably under suspicion of criminal activity until evidence of said activity is found" Oh, I was livid at that, gritting me teeth behind my visor. How I wanted to scramble across this man's desk and his forest of picture frames so that I could break every single bone in his face. I almost did, as I gripped my end of the table and planed on how I could take out the two plastic soldiers behind me before I ruined the lieutenant's day and his stupid beard. But this wasn't the only thing he had to say, as he slid a form in front of me

"However, as a prime, the Empire is willing to offer you a deal for both our benefits. We can wave the charges, if you sign on to our cause. I'm sure that someone of your talents would be very appreciated by the Peace Division" Intimidation, extortion, AND baseless flattery. The Empire's bootlickers really do know how to lay it on thick. He had the upper hand, as refusing outright wasn't going to get me out of this office. I had to turn the conversation around and gain an advantage. With guns or with words, you should be always ready to fight for your life.

"You might have the authority to hold me, but you lack the capacity to do so. What you have for a jail cell won't keep me, and if you try to transfer me that's just an opportunity for me to escape. I have more firepower on my back than you do in your entire armory, and if you would let me walk out of here because the alternative is that I level the whole building. And if you DO manage to get me? I'd eat my own gun and I'll come back, and you'll have an angry prime on your hands" If I had disarmed the officer, he was keeping a good poker face. But I could hear the two behind me fidgeting on the spot. They knew I was right. I pressed on and hammered home the point.

"Besides, what would happen if I did agree? I'd get carted off to Coruscant and you'd never see me again, when you probably need me the most. I thought the navy of an ocean verse would have a bigger budget than this" At that I did get something out of the stone faced officer. He bristled, if only for a moment, at what I had figured was some kind of inter-military political drama. These guys weren't navy. The Navy probably had some giant base somewhere on Costa del Sol, not unlike the one on crescent lagoon sans the terrors from the deep, not some confiscated firehouse . The Navy didn't have to deal with the bullshit of keeping the peace and whatever jackass came through the gate every other day. The Navy had a budget bigger than a small nation, not understaffed and under armed. The Lieutenant was recovering, but I went for the killing blow.

"So I have a deal for you. Not this shit," I flicked the form off the table "this is what you give to every Tom, Dick, and Harry you manage to drag in here kicking and screaming. This will actually benefit the both of us, and not just your ass-licking COs. You hire me as a 'private military contract" or whatever bullshit term you call mercs, I help you out, and you erase whatever profile you have on me. You report me as a secondary, and from then on it'll be smooth sailing for everyone. Or I just walk out" I laid down the ultimatum, laming my hands down on the desk to punctuate it for a bit of flair. Despite the sureness I was trying to convey, there was just the tinge of fear that there was something I didn't consider and I had just signed my doom. Which only made the helmet all the more a godsend.

The stand off grew silent, each of us stared the other down as wished for them to yield in some hope of victory. But if there's one thing I know about myself, is that I'm stubborn. Eventually, the officer was the one who backed down, slumping back in his chair. He rested one hand onto his face, contemplated on what he could do, and then pulled another form out of his desk. A different one.

"Alright, you got me. We'll fill the paperwork to classify you as a mercenary, and delete what we've gather so far. You will be given orders directly from us, though as a merc you aren't required to fulfill them." That last part was said in a grumble, but I heard it just fine. "But if you backstab us-"

"You'll blow me to kingdom come and hunt me down to the ends of the earth. Yeah, I've heard that spiel before. Don't worry, I'm VERY good with keeping my word" I cut him off. It had been a long day at this point, and I was hoping to get some rest.

"Right then" he began to fill out the form "Before we start working together, do you have a name I could call you"

"Doomguy" I once again got a raised eyebrow for that "You don't need to know my name, just what to call me. Can I go now?"

He waved me off, dismissing me along with the guard. I had managed to avoid whatever fate the Empire had for me, but I could tell there was still a great deal of distrust in me, and the feeling was mutual. I would be sleeping with one eye open tonight. I'm not sure what the other stormtroopers were expecting when I left their CO's office, but probably not me asking where the beds and armory were. I left the peashooters alone, considering that if I wanted an assault rifle there were plenty form my own world that I would be more comfortable using. I did take several of their med kits and folded them into my pack, but that was a small price for my willingness to work with them rather that shattering their world around their heads.

The sun was set, and fatigue was finally setting in. I had thought I would have a nice break from all the violence from the other day, but I was thrown right back right into the chaos without even a choice in the matter. I hadn't even really recovered from the base raid, the wound from the hybrid's hook still a nasty looking scab. But with a night's sleep, maybe I could finally unwind my nerves into something that doens't want to shoot anything that moves. I would go to the hotel tomorrow, hear out their proposal, and from there decide how I was going eek out an existence in my search for Omni. I didn't quite realize what I had in store for me yet.

----

Lieutenant Jones Abdul waited until the green armored soldier before he cracked the first genuine smile he had all day. Although this "doomguy" may have frustrated him to no end after being bamboozled by the strange soldier, the officer had actually gotten more out of this than he had expected. He thought that he would have to pull strings to get the prime pulled under his command, rather than left with the Peace Corps. Or worse, given to Admiral Kizaru as a personal killer. It would be an insufferable and personal insult if that happened. But the marine had inadvertently fallen into Jones' lap, and now he could look forward to finally having some power in his hands.

"Eagle Eye, have you been listening?" Jones talked to no one particular, knowing that the technological spy was of course doing so. His computer screen flickered on, showing a human draped in poor lighting

"I wouldn't have missed this. Do you want to me to delete the profile, sir?"

"Yes, I do Since he's been so gracious to give us what we want, we should uphold our side of the deal. But keep a copy in a secured file off the grid, in case mr 'Doomguy' decides he no longer wants to keep our company"

"Yes sir" Eagle Eye went to work on that, before returning from a brief silence "Do you think he was bluffing? About what he could do"

"Of course he was" Jones sounded very confident as he opened up one of his drawers, looking for a cigarette and lighter, smile only growing wiser "Primes always think they more powerful than us, but they're not. He wouldn't haven gotten past the door."

"I'm not so sure, sir" the spy answer, typing in something on his side "We've interrogated one of Choprot's crew, or what's left of it. Sir... he was at crescent base" The smile dropped immediately from the lieutenant's face, stopping a moment before he had the cig to his mouth. He heard of the rumors, he read the report. A shiver of dread started to form, but he had to confirm it.

"Was any video recovered?" he asked, and eagle eye answered by sending the file. In moments the officer was watching the security feed that survived, and saw it all. The slaughter, the mania, the damage done by a single man in green armor. And from one of the outside cameras, although from a great distance, he saw the battle with the great beast. At that moment, Jones now saw that his strange bedfellow was not just a threat, but a dangerous individual.

"Who...WHAT is he?"