Dimensional Clash X [IC]

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Post by AestheticMonkey on Sun Dec 29, 2019 8:20 am

Aeth, H and Zand

Goodsprings

"So what kind of... thing, are you?" Moomek asked with curiosity as he slithered through the air around Locus, swirling about him like some fish swimming about a larger fish in an obnoxious manner, "Just a long lived immortal or blessed by some existential powers or...?"

"I represent an alternative. You could say blessed, immortal. They're all true, all wrong." He replied cryptically. "My kind are known as Ethereals if you must know."

"Ethereal?" Moomek scoffed as he swirled about to Locus-Walker's front, "Even the Mule were more well-named of a race, and they were barely one to begin with. But, you are who you are."

"We are known as K'hareshi. But everyone else knows us by an adjective. We do not dwell on such trivialities. K'haresh is a memory." He retorted. He was starting to find this revenant annoying.

"What? Did K'haresh get destroyed or something? Lost by your own folly?" Moomek continued to meander about around the Ethereal.

"An ancient entity far more powerful than you or most ripped open the dimensions around our planet in an attempt to consume it. So much energy was poured onto our planet that our bodies disentigrated, but our souls absorbed so much it allowed us to perservere despite lacking corporeal form. We escaped before the planet was consumed, thankfully."

"Talk about inefficiency," Moomek mused, "On the ancient entity's part, of course. Pouring energy into worlds-- releasing energy at all-- is a poor strategy for any cosmic beings."

"The void is blind. Just like the entity hovering infront of me. Its goal was to weaken reality enough to accomplish its task. What are a few ants getting away to it?" He sharply added.

"Ants can come back in a swarm," Moomek disagreed, "And there's two things you can do with a swarm of ants. Either crush them under the heel of your boot, so to say, or sway their anger with offers of whatever they want and direct them towards your foes, no matter how big or small. It's what our kind did with the Advance, and what any smart beings should do."

"Perhaps. But to an indestructable entity, it matters not. Your kind only manipulates the weak and stupid. You are doomed to fail by your very nature."

"Oh, we as a kind have failed, I assure you," Moomek nodded in his cnidarian-esque form, "When the Army of the Light came, we knew we had lost then and there. But, of course, one failure does not mean the end, full stop. We had countermeasures. And we still do. So now we just... wait. Bide our time until either we regain power, or our many pawns come and bring the power to us."

[b]"You have bidden your time since creation, and you will continue to do so for eternity. You will never control destiny because you alone are not responsible for it. You will forestall until reality has burnt out, and starts again. Is that why death makes you quiver? The thought of having nothing left to consume?"


"What can I say? You can always come out on top in the long game if you play your cards right," Moomek shrugged again before laughing, "You think I'm scared of death? I've died once already at the hands of things you cannot conceive! Trapped in places where there was nothing for me to consume for eons! All that time, though, I knew that I would rise again, as our kind always have. Because there is no real death for us- or for anything, save for when the void consumes it wholly."

Moomek's appearance grew to look much more sharp for a few moments, and the air about him grew cold, before he assumed his more fluid nature, "But Anyways, let's change the topic, shall we?"

"Mortal or not, Voiddweller. There are six seats at the high table. You must obey by their laws, regardless of what you think. You may not have ever lived, but there are plenty of ways to be gone with you. Threaten or interefere with me, and I will gladly show you them." He replied coldly. His form began to darken even further, a purple corona surronding him as the air chilled even further. A few flecks of water condensing on the bottles of the bar. He used the power of the void, much the same as Moomek.

"Like I said, let's change the topic, shall we? It's gotten to a bit of an ultimatum with this one," The Xinth casually mused as he fluttered about, "So why the bandages? If your soul's all that's left, you could have embodied about anything, right? So why choose a bunch of parchment paper?"

"We enjoy scaring young children." He joked. "It's in a facismile of our original form. Is there a reason you've chosen a helpless invertebrate as your form? It suits your spineless nature I must say."

"This form feels most comfortable to revert to," Moomek admitted, "Of course, it is incomplete; I lack much of my very being, so I'm trapped to this small state. And if you're referring to jellyfish when you say that, need I remind you that, even if they're soft and innocent looking, they can kill with a single touch..."

"Unless it's a turtle, or anything robust. Then you're nothing but lukewarm water. Like I said, it suits you well. I've never met a jellyfish with any form of intelligence. Much like you, they drift around waiting for the weak and stupid to fall into them. Before a much stronger entity does away with them." He scaldingly replied.

"'Stronger'- you know nothing of the weak Guardians who struck me down," Moomek mewed, "That hag and her song... they were the only ones who held power in that battle other than I. And she died by it."

"Felled by music? You are a pitiful creature indeed."

"The hymns of Aureolum are music, yes. But they hold power in their domain, much as you and I do in the void," Moomek asserted.

"It is a weak entity that is undone by simply encountering an opposing force. If that is the case, dispatching of you seems like a trivial task."

"You oversimplify the situation. We were... desperate, you see. We had just been beaten by the Army of the Light- mortals empowered by the Guardian Soul Rhya to fight us- and struck down our own Guardian Soul. Without it, we withered, our source to the Void severed so ungracefully."

"Here I am. A mortal using your own power without being swayed one bit. Your own weakness must be so insulting to you. I wonder how you would feel of the Legion, or the Naaru, or perhaps even the Arbiter or Titans. Any of their paltry creations could reduce you to nothingness."

"Yeah, yeah, I feel so belittled by it," Moomek waved a tentacle in dismissing of Locus' comment, "I would feel nothing, because I really do not care of the many 'beings that are so much stronger than me' that exist back in your run-down universe. I care about the ones in mine and the ones in this one. Particularly, the one who is running this."

"How weak you must be if my "run down" universe eclipses yours. If that is the case, you have no hope of accomplishing anything with the ones who run this clash. You are a meddlesome insect, or a trained pet to them. With just enough delusions of grandeur to keep chasing a prize he'll never get."

"...Can you say some thing other than an iteration of "you're weak", or are you stuck in a loop here?" Moomek asked blankly, "And I thought we moved on from this topic anyways and put a pin in it for later."

"Your false bravado annoys me. Begone from my sight or I'll make good on my words." He finished.

Moomek floated in place, turning a full 360 degrees, before looking back to Locus, "Where do you want me to be 'begone' to? Because I'm not seeing much but rocks, dirt, and the occasional dry shrub. On the flip side, I could just stay here and make the most of our conversations. Wouldn't that be fine? To have someone reliable to chat with?"

"You could keep talking, have the void drained from you, and have whatever remnants stashed away, or thrown into a cosmic landscape you will never leave. Or you can quit talking. I and mykind have dealt with creatures of the void more powerful than you could ever hope" He retorted, his voice cold and factual.

The two bickering entities would hear the door to the saloon open and shut. Trudy glanced in the door's direction. "Please save me from these children bickering about who's tougher," The woman muttered to herself as Sunny greeted whoever had come in.

"Doc sent you here, huh?" Sunny remarked, "Yeah, you can go on ahead in there- Fair warning though, there's, uh... Just be prepared to see anyth-"

"Moomoo!" Jannet gasped as she stepped into view, clasping her hands together in joy at the sight of the Xinth. Despite him looking more like a jellyfish than she recalled, there was no mistaking her Moomek.

Slapstick, had his head resting on the bar counter,his fingers twitched,something was wrong though he didn't quite know what....visons drifting in,memories that were at the same time his own, and completly alien. The loud cosmic dick measuring contest happening just a few feet from him was not helping, in his drooping left hand his mallet materialized,his claw like fingers curled around the handle.

Slapstick's arm pinwheeled into the counter and made a large "BANG!" upon contact with the surface.

The hero glared at the trio, something....odd happened when he did, his body flickered if but a second, first he was himself,then he was the modernized Slapstick, then he was wearing a traffic cop's uniform, then it was like he was a crude crayon scribble on a piece of paper.

He returned to his regular form, as the yellow in his eyes began to leak into the white of his face,"Can't a guy have an existential crisis in peace?"

He wiped his face with his hand,getting yellow drippy eye on his gloves,and smearing his face,he took a stray towel off the bar and wiped his mug.

This revealed when he stopped a completely featureless face,before Slapstick's features descended from the top of his head to rest on his face.

"Jannet?" Moomek swiveled about midair, utterly surprised by the reappearance of his 'girlfriend'. He swirled about in the air towards her. "I thought you were... how did you get here?" he asked, his voice now taking a much softer, more welcoming tone than it had in his boasting with Locus.

Locus Walker looked on at the reunion with his usual disinterest, although his gaze softened slightly as he met Jannet's face. A young girl, full of potential perhaps.

"Well, I got teleported or whatever while we were trying to get to Japan and everything and ended up behind Doctor Mitchell's house!" She exclaimed, her smile ebbing a bit as she continued, "Then I, uh... Got scared by a giant praying mantis and tripped over a rock and hit my head..." She let out a meek, nervous laugh at that as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Oh my- are you alright?" the Xinth asked with some concern, trying to swirl around to examine the back of Jannet's head, "I'm under the impression that kind of stuff can hurt a lot."

"Oh, no, I'm okay now!" Jannet assured with a wave of her hand, "It was pretty convenient that I fell near Doctor Mitchell's home." She blushed out of embarassment for having tripped over a rock. After all, given how many things were out there that could injure or even kill someone in the Clash, tripping over a rock was a pretty sad way to get knocked unconscious.

"There's a doctor in this town?" Moomek questioned as he stopped moving about, before continuing, wrapping his two tendrils around her shoulder in a bit of a hug, "Eitherway, I'm really happy to see you're safe! I was actually very worried that something could have happened to you!"

"Oh, Moomoo!" Jannet squealed, her heart easily warmed by the Xinth's concern for her well-being as she happily wrapped her arms around him with glee. She would pause after a moment of joyful hugging and her eyes would pop open as she finally acknowledged Locus Walker's presence with a curious smile as she pulled back, "Oh, who's your friend?"

"Some bandages and purple mist." Locus-Walker replied. "We're not too fond of eachother."

"Not that I didn't try to warm up to you," Moomek asserted with a sort of shrug.

"Oh... Um..." Jannet opened her mouth to speak, but didn't really know what to say to that. She was really betting on the two of them being friends or at least neutral towards each other. Now she just felt awkward.

"You could call us... acquaintances?" Moomek tried to ease the awkwardness that he could clearly see in Jannet's expression, "He's just a bit... biased against things like me. Poor fella lost his home to one and turned him into that."

"Oh, okay," Jannet nodded with a grimace before turning to Locus Walker with a smile, seeing an opportunity to maker her 'man' look good, "Well, I can assure that Moomoo- Er- Moomek here would never do something like that... Anymore... I like the bandages and purple mist look though, you look neat!"

"Thank you, most people say I look like I came out of a tomb. It's rather odd how almost every culture has a conception of their dead wrapped in bandages..." The walker trailed off. "Oh child, it's in their nature."

"That's just not true! Moomoo here was coerced into doing some bad things in that past, sure, but he's a great guy!" Jannet asserted dutifully by Moomek's side, "People can change, you know. And this Moomoo is a lot different from the one he told me he used to be."

"Hmph. A scorpion by any other name is still a scorpion. It'll sting you eventually." He recited an old proverb from K'haresh.

Jannet thought for a moment, turning her head down a bit as her eyes looked around in thought before she looked back up and simply said, "You're being kinda racist."

"As I said, he's kinda biased," Moomek commented, slithering and wrapping itself comfortably around Jannet's arm.

"I don't consider entropic entities of the void to be a race. They are an embodiment of a fundamental force, they can never go against it." Locus retorted. "Even the 'kindest' among them whisper mockeries of real emotion to trick people into carrying out their will."

"That sounds like something a racist would say to justify being racist," Jannet stated, taking some offense for Moomek to the accusation made against him, "Moomoo even said he tried getting you to warm up to him. At least give him a chance. You shouldn't assume the worst of him just because he's a Xinth."

"Jannet, it's alright," Moomek assured with a coo, nuzzling up closer as a tendril nudged against her neck, "Let's just... go. It's not worth your time to try and argue with him. He's already made up his mind on it, and he's certainly not going to budge."

"... I guess you're right," Jannet sighed, turning away and making for the door. She didn't have much of a need to socialize with the locals if she had Moomek after all, "I just hate thinking that someone has a bad impression of you. You don't deserve that."

"Oh you'll learn, in this life, or when he sends you into the next." Locus replied tersely.

"Would you stop?" Moomek spoke up, slithering off of Jannet's arm, "I mean, all you've done is belittle me and consider me some dangerous manipulator that's just looking to destroy things. And I've patiently waded through every single annoying word that's come out of your fake-bandage-mouth until now, because now, you're trying to mess with Jannet, and I'm not going to let you bring her down because you're still afraid of a thing that destroyed your home lord knows how long ago."

"Oh? I'm afraid now is it? No, I am not afraid of you, I understand you. Large gulf of difference. You might have the little girl under your thumb, but in the end she will see what I see." The Walker clarified. The bandages of his face twisted into a crude approximation of a face of severe mocking curiosity.

By that point, Jannet was as peeved as Moomek as put her hands on her hips and snapped, "Excuse me if I believe the man who has been nothing but kind and helpful towards me over the random bandaged jerk who's done nothing but shit-talk him since I walked in. You might not be 'afraid', but you [i]are
paranoid. And it doesn't matter how long it is from now, you'll probably still think the worst of him because you think you know everything there is to know about Moomek and that you're right and nothing else could possibly prove you wrong."

"If only you could see the things that I have seen child, I have an urge to show you them just to prove the point, but I don't think you're ready for or deserving of such a thing. The void and the light love to claim the young and malleable for themselves." Locus walker said with a hint of mirth in his voice. "You have a unique destiny Jannet, but not if you keep yourself tethered to the leech next to you."

"I'll take my chances," Jannet seethed, whirling around and walking to the door with an assertive, "Come on, Moomoo. Let's go." She didn't often walk with such an air of confidence, but it was typically in such situations of infuriation, especially when her precious Moomek was under attack.

Moomek took little time to slither back to Jannet, making his usual love of slithering onto her arm, before reverting back into her skin, a cozy feeling shared between the two. He had little else to say to Locus, and hoped they didn't cross paths again.

Once she had left the saloon and slammed the door shut behind herself, Jannet let out a deep breath she had held in after she finished speaking as she leaned back against the door. "Oh man... I sure told him off, right?" She asked, feeling rather proud of herself for standing up for Moomek.

"I sure hope so," Moomek mused inside of Jannet, "I really don't wanna see his ugly mug again. Wanna start heading down the road? I helped clear those Powder Ganger guys out earlier. Told off their leader and the rest ran away."

"The town had a gang problem?" Jannet blinked as she started walking, though slowly as she swooned, "Oh, Moomoo..." Her smile was fade as she growled in frustration, "I can't believe that guy... Saying all that after you helped this town, drove off a bunch of gangsters!" It made her so mad, she kicked over a metal barrel. Unfortunately, a bunch of garbage spilled out of it, and it smelled as if the barrel was often used for fires.

"Seriously?" A Goodsprings settler snapped from a distance as Jannet hastily cried out and apology as she scrambled to undo her mistake, hurriedly shuffling garbage and sand into the sideways barrel before struggling to lift it back onto its bottom.

"Here- lemme help," Moomek stated as he poked himself out of Jannet's arm, several tendrils quickly flicking any remaining garbage back into the can as another tentacle helped Jannet hoist up the barrel to its proper state.

"Thanks, Moomoo," Jannet sighed before giving the peeved settler an uneasy smile. Once they returned to their business, she would quicken her pace as she walked off, making a mental note not to touch anything until she could wash her hands, "That was... Pretty dumb... But ugh! He just made me so angry!"

"I know, I... I get it," Moomek assured as he reeled back into Jannet's body, "He's got a way with people, I guess. And it's alright to express your anger every now and then. It's bad to just not act on it at all. Just... be careful while you are."

"You're right..." Jannet sighed, "I wish I had my journal- Or- Uh.... Maybe a new one. I'd probably die on the spot if you saw my old one." She blushed as she recalled all the things she wrote and drew in her diary/ sketchbook, grimacing slightly as she remembered when one of her sisters got ahold of it and proclaimed its contents to the entire Hold.

"Well, maybe the general store there has one?" Moomek suggested, pointing Jannet's attention to the store of the same name.

"Maybe... But I don't have any money- Especially not whatever money they use here," Jannet lamented with a sigh as she glanced towards the store.

"...Wait just one moment," Moomek hummed as he slipped out of her skin once again, quickly slithering about the ground and slipping a tendril into the garbage can, tossing out a few bottle caps from inside, "They use these for money, I think."

"Bottlecaps?" Jannet blinked, taking the caps into one hand before holding one up to inspect it for a moment. With curiosity, she would meander into the general store, gawking at everything inside upon entering.

"Oh, howdy!" Chet called from behind his counter, "You must be one of those other-whatever people, right? I've got plenty of supplies for sale. Even got some weapon mods and special ammo - well worth the caps, if you ask me... Though, if you're hurting for caps, I've also go-"

"Oh, I'd just like a journal, please. I don't need any... Weapon mods or ammo," Jannet interrupted before Chet could continue, "Oh! And a pen too."

"Uhhh... Yeah, I probably have that, give me a sec," He blinked before walking around and searching through his store for a moment. After some scrounging around, he managed to find a rather dirty book with blank pages and a pen, "This what you need?"

"Yes! How much would that be?" Jannet gasped happily before counting how many caps she had.

Chet, too, counted, and before she could finish he would quickly answer, "Sixteen caps." Of course, books and pens sold for next to nothing, but he figured she probably didn't know that.

"Fiftee- Oh! Looks like I have just enough!" Jannet smiled in surprise before handing him all of her caps as she remarked, "Guess I'm pretty lucky, huh?"

"Yeah, looks like it," Chet smirked, giving her the book and pen before waving her off as she happily left the store.

"Well, that was a happy coincidence, wasn't it?" Moomek chimed.

"I know!" Jannet agreed, completely oblivious to the questionable nature of the transaction that just took place. She flipped through the book after wiping a bit of grime off of it as she flipped through its pages to see how many there were, "Hmm... Everything here is a bit... Dirty, isn't it?" As she held the book in one hand, she was about to tap one end of the pen to her chin as she walked, but hesitated in realizing it was probably not very sanitary in the slightest.

"A few hundred years of gathering dust does that, I suppose," Moomek replied, "Now, what are you gonna write? I can give you a few pointers if you need."

"Pointers?" Jannet repeated with a curious expression as she flipped the pen around inbetween her fingers and found a place to sit down for a moment.

"Some helpful hints, some inspiration, whatever you need help with to write better," Moomek explained, "Would it be surprising to know I was a writer? And an okay one, I think?"

"That is a surprise!" Jannet smiled in her gawking before quickly adding, "Well- Then again, it shouldn't be that surprising, really... What did you write?" She ignored the fact that Moomek would so quickly assume she needed his pointers before seeing any of her work.

"A whole language, to be honest," Moomek explained, "Well, I helped to translate a language a galaxy used so others could understand it... a little, at least. Galaxies speak in weird ways. Other than that, though, I've written plenty of books and have gotten plenty of praise for them."

"What were some of them about?" Jannet questioned, in awe of Moomek's purported portfolio. A small part of her had worried that the two may initially not have any common interests, but the fact that they were both writers- Or, well, Jannet was an aspiring writer- washed those minute worries away.

"Spellbooks, monologues... some stuff etched into some big rocks about my kind," Moomek answered, "It doesn't really matter. The point is, if you ever need any help, don't be afraid to ask."

"Well, um..." Jannet thought for a moment, pursing her lips as she looked to the ground and sifted through ideas before a blush came to her cheeks. She slowly opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated and attempted to stifle her words. After a few seconds, however, she finally spoke, "W-Well, I... I always found the idea of... Um... Cults to be kinda neat and fun... And... Since I met you- Well- You just... You're kind of like a... I-I just- Nevermind, nevermind, I'm just saying dumb stuff." She quickly tried to wave away any focus on her words with her hands and a nervous smile, "I think I'll just use it as a diary."

"...No no, say what you were going to say," Moomek insisted, "Don't stop yourself like that, just... let your thoughts flow free. I'm sure you're not saying dumb stuff, alright?"

"... It's... Okay, okay... Alright," Jannet sighed with a relenting nod. She took a moment to formulate her words and take a deep breath before attempting to explain herself, "I just... You're really... 'Cool' and everything and you come off kinda as a... An eld- What we would think of as an 'eldritch being' and... I just... Thought it'd be fun to start a cult around you- J-Just like... For fun and stuff though!" Not having someone to actually look at when she was talking to them made it really hard to avert her gaze from them, but she slumped down in shame anyway at how dumb she percieved her thought to be.

"...I'd be... fine with that," Moomek blankly responded, sounding vaguely unsure about the idea. Although it would seem to Jannet like this would be the first time he'd heard of the concept, he'd been waiting for something like this for some time.

"W-Wait- Really?" Jannet gasped in surprise, looking up before quickly shaking her head, "N-No, I know it's weird. You don't have to say you're fine with it just for me."

"I'm not. I get what you mean. I'm certainly what you'd consider 'eldritch'. And if that's what you really want... I'm more than willing to support it however you want," Moomek assured, slithering out of Jannet and floating in front of her, trying to wrap his tendrils around her hands in a supportive manner.

"... Oh, Moomoo," Jannet swooned, smiling sweetly at him with a sigh, "... Thank you... I've, um... Actually already thought up a few ideas for it." She let out an awkward laugh at her admission before adding, "It's something I've had on my mind for a little while, but... Maybe for now we should focus on trying to find somewhere to stay... And get food... And water... There's that Saloon we were just in, but I don't see any hotels or anything around..."

"I'm sure if we follow the road, we'll make it to the next town," Moomek replied as he reeled back into her skin, "Maybe there will be rooms to stay at and food there. If not, I'm sure we can find some on the road. It might be a apocalyptic wasteland, but I've seen more then enough animals and plants."

"It's definitely a lot more alive than New York," Jannet remarked before glancing around with a hum, noting the road that ran through Goodsprings curved around up a hill and went north while its other end shot south, "Hmm... Should we go that way or that way?" She pointed to either direction respectively.

"I say we head... north," Moomek decided, "I was looking around earlier and saw a city in the distance. It looked fairly well-kept, so I think it's our best bet."

"North it is then!" Jannet agreed wholeheartedly, standing up tall and marching up the street as she held the book and pen to her side, "So, tell me more about the stuff you've written! You said you write spellbooks?" While fiction was a more interesting topic to her, she couldn't resist the allure of a 'spellbook'.

"Oh yeah, plenty. A lot of the stuff galaxes talk about is the energies of life and void. Ours talked about void. A lot. Considering we and it were mostly composed of it, I guess it makes sense. It spoke about how to manipulate the very fabric of these energies to its will. While none of my kind knew exactly how to replicate what our galaxy could do, we could try and document what we could replicate. These would be passed down to more mortal peoples, but aren't that common anymore. All the books were burned or lost to time," Moomek explained.

"Wow... So... Would I be able to do stuff like that?" Jannet asked, "Or is that all strictly Xinth stuff?"

"You could, yeah," the Xinth replied positively, "But... I'm not entirely sure it'd be for you."

"Why do you say that?" She inquired, tilting her head a bit as she continued walking.

"You just... don't seem like the kind of person usually interested in quintessence and void magic," Moomek answered, "Usually, they're a bit... unhinged- at least these days, from what I've seen, they are usually."

"These days?... Oh, I see, so it's one of those things that, like, takes a mental toll and so over time most people became 'unhinged'?" Jannet surmised, "I appreciate you looking out for me, Moomoo... I definitely wouldn't wanna go crazy or anything."

"I mean, I guess it could take a toll on you, it just... a lot of the people who use it now are manipulative douches who use it for a whole lot of bad stuff," Moomek explained, "If... if you really want... I can show you some."

"Really!?" Jannet gasped excitedly, "What can you show me- W-What's- Telekinesis- Summoning demons or something- Teleporting?" She wasn't even forming complete sentences. The prospect of learning magic from her beloved Moomek was just too exciting.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," Moomek calmly asserted as he exited Jannet's body and floated in front of her, "Those kinds of things only come a lot later. First, you have to be in tune with the forces that be in the first place to even think of manipulating them. Can I see one of the pages of your notebook real quick? I need material to work with to start us off."

"O-Oh, of course, here," Jannet nodded, quickly opening the book and carefully tearing out a page before holding it out to Moomek as she tried her best to contain herself.

A tendril daintly set the page on the ground, before the tentacle placed its tip on the paper and began to fork and shape itself into a highly complex symbol of spirals and swirls and spines. "You have to understand that everything, every animal, plant, and even rock, is filled with quintessence- life. Inbetween each and every molecule sits the void. It is that void from which my kind and my galaxy were powered by. And it is that void that I will be teaching you to use." When the symbol was complete, the tentacle pressed itself hard against the paper, before pulling back, leaving an inky back imprint, like a stamp. "This sigil contains what I'd call an enlightening vision to it. It'll help you better feel these two energies, but it needs to be activated first. A simple drop of blood will do if you just press your hand against it."

"... Oh, so I just... I just take my hand and... Like this?" Jannet blinked, staring at the symbol for a moment, then raising her hand and looking at it. She glanced between the two before slowly bringing her palm to the paper and pressing it against the symbol Moomek had stamped onto the paper.

Jannet would feel the slightest pinprick on the palm of her hand, but it was quickly replaced by a feeling that was hard to describe. It was warm and swirling, yet cold and rigid. Lively yet deathly. Her vision would shudder, wisps of light within everything about her- even inside herself- before quickly fading into the periphery, desensitizing within moments. Moomek's form looked even darker than usual in that blur, but soon after her vision returned to normal. "It's a... a weird experience for mortals, I've heard," the xinth commented, picking up the paper. The symbols on the page were... different. They had remained the same, but in Jannet's view, they were somehow more tangible than they were before, like glimpsing into a new dialect she knew only a fraction of. "You feel alright?"

"Y-Yeah, I..." Jannet stammered out, blinking and shaking her head a bit as she held her hand in her other, staring down at her palm in shock for a moment before looking up at the paper. She rubbed at her eyes and looked again, looking in confusion and awe, "It was definitely... Weird... That's a word for it- Did... You change the... The thing looks different."

Moomek looked over the symbol for a moment before shaking his body. "No I didn't. It's the same as before. You just see it in a bit of a different light now," Moomek explained, "You see it as how I see it. It's like how you see letters that make up words that make up brilliant stories. Each stroke, each curve in the lines, is like a letter to its own grand story."

"Wow..." Jannet murmured out as she gently took the page from Moomek and looked it over, her eyes widening and squinting a few times as she brought her face closer and farther from the paper. She was clearly having plenty of fun just inspecting the symbol.

"I don't expect you to understand it much- it's a complex spell in the first place. We'll start you on simpler ones- ones you can actually write right now without the assistance of more void magic," Moomek assured as he flipped the paper over and began to create another, much simpler symbol that looked like a single spiral line that struck downwards from the center through the spiral. "Now that you understand and can feel the energies, I want you to take your finger and trace the symbol with it."

"What does it do?" Jannet asked, looking up at Moomek, then down to the symbol and doing as instructed before waiting for him to answer. She was rather slow and careful as her index finger slid along the symbol Moomek had made, not wanting to stray from the line even a little.

As she reached the end of the symbol, the sensations from before, along with the changes in her vision, returned to prominence. "It heightens your ability to percieve the two energies and will remain there if you keep your finger where the line ends."

"Really?" Jannet gasped, looking up at Moomek once more before repeating the action of tracing her finger. However, she would keep her finger pressed against the page where the line ends as he said, mouth agape as she soaked in the feeling of... Whatever it was that she was experiencing.

"Really. Eventually, you won't even need to do that to see it all," Moomek explained, "It'll be second nature, like another color or something. Now look at yourself. You'll notice you're a whole lot... brighter than your surroundings. All living things have more life energy than their surroundings. If they don't... well, then they're not exactly living."

"Huh? Wha- Oh my god, you're right!" Jannet gasped, paying more attention to herself and noticing that she was indeed 'brighter' than, say, a rock. She glanced up to Moomek, and there was a hint of disappointment at how dark he was.

"Yeah, there's no brightness here," the coal-black form that was Moomek responded, "Just void."

"Hmph... I don't think that's right," Jannet asserted, disagreeing with the fabric of reality, "I know that, at the very least, you've made me feel more alive than I ever have been... And... And I wouldn't be this bright if it wasn't for you."

"That's... that's actually really sweet," Moomek hummed as he slithered through the air and nuzzled up to Jannet, where she could see how the two contrasting energies interacted against one another.

She'd blush at her own words and Moomek's reply before holding herself close to him with a soft smile, taking her finger off the page as she wiped at her eye and embraced him. "I love you, Moomek..." She quietly murmured.

"I love you too, Janny," Moomek mewed back, wrapping a few tendrils around Jannet, before eventually pulling back. "I think that's enough of that for now. Whenever we settle down for the night, I can show you more. Until then, I'd just keep practicing that symbol until you can trace it without the paper."

"I'll be tracing this thing in my sleep!" Jannet dutifully promised with a nod.

AestheticMonkey
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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by AestheticMonkey on Sun Dec 29, 2019 8:20 am

H, Zand and Monkey

Freeside

The Dude would wake up from an 11 year coma within a ruined building of the outskirt community. Arising from his den of rubble, the dude would look around with some concern. "Damn, I was out cold for how long? Paradise looks like shit." He'd rise to his feet, and found that he still had the majority of his inventory. He would pull out a slip of white paper, before jotting down some tasks. "Lets see, ask about Champ, get this petition signed and find some food. I'm starving."

The dude would set out from his building, finding what looked to be some 1950's greaser with an asshole haircut. He would walk up to the man with a clipboard and pencil in hand. "Hi there, would you please sign my petition?" He would hold it out for viewing, the petition was titled: "Make whiny Congressmen play violent video games".

"Eh? The hell is a 'Congressmen'?" The Kings member questioned after peering at the clipboard, though otherwise did not move from his arms-crossed position as he was leaned against the wall.

"You don't know what a-? Look, just sign the damn thing. I got shit to do." Replied The Dude, sounding a bit more irate.

"Oh, if that's how you're gonna be, you can shove it up your ass then," The man scoffed, raising a middle finger from his crossed arms. "Go on, beat it. You ain't got no business with the Kings."

"Look, are you going to sign the thing or will it be your surviving family members?" He said with alot more menace in that suave voice of his.

"The fuck was that?" The King spat, standing up from the wall and reaching for a cigare- "Wait, shit. Hold on a second." He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and a lighter, lit the cigarette, and put it in his mouth. He would then immediately repeat himself, "The fuck was that?" before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, tossing it on the ground, and smushing it under his shoe.

"I said, Mississippi Slick, to sign this damn petition. Now are you going to do it, or am I going to have to reinact a Micheal Jackson commerical with your hair?" The Dude stated, not backing down in the slightest.

"I don't know half the shit you're sayin', but maybe you need some educating on how things work here in Freeside, because you're lucky you got me to deal with and not someone with a lot less patience," The King pulled out a comb and ran it through his hair as he spoke, "The Kings keep the order and rule here, and if you think you can just get away with threatening one of us without all of fuckin' Freeside lining up to take turns shoving their foots up your ass, then you're a bigger dumbass than you look, buddy. Now scram."

"There's an entire community of you greased up Westside-Story pricks tunning around? You gotta be fuckin' kidding." The Dude replied, just barely containing his urge to maul the King. He would walk away from the greaser, to find someone else near some big fort to bother. "Hi there, would you like to sign my petition?"

A crier for the Atomic Wrangler would yell over before they could respond, desperate to draw attention to the casino as she advertised, "Hungry? Thirsty? Horny? The Atomic Wrangler has you covered!" They would glance over before shrugging and writing down an illegible name on the petition and walking off. It was likely that they didn't even know how to write.

"Fuck it, I'll take it." The Dude would take one look at the Atomic Wrangler, and decided that the gonorrhea wouldn't be worth it, but it could be a good place to get a signature. So he would hang out near the entrance, harrassing folks so he could get his remaining seven signatures.

After he managed to dissuade someone from entering the Atomic Wrangler entirely, the crier would look over with a huff, "Hey, pal, get out of here with your petition. You're scaring away customers."

"Hey fuck you, I'm enjoying my First Amendment rights and keeping veneral disease and addiction down." He stated, not giving two hoots about some lung-girl's complaints. He had more important shit to do after this.

"Yeah, your casino's a dump anyway!" Declared a much younger voice. Standing before the two was a thirteen-year-old girl with a tall black hat and a magician's coat, though she wore cargo shorts rather than some more befitting a magician, she pulled it off. Her hands were on her hips as she jumped off the sidewalk and gestured down the delapidated street where there was a cardboard sign that was rather hard to read that said, "Madison and Maria's Deluxe Casino!!!"

"Our casino down the street is way better! And we have 100% less diseases on everything there!"

"Hi there little girl, good job on telling that brownnoser what's up. Want to sign my petition?" He asked, squatting down and holding out the clipboard to her.

"Huh? Oh, uh.. What's it for?" The girl would ask, taking the clipboard and peering at the title for a moment before looking up and asking, "What's a Congressman?"

"Some old asshole in Washington who wants to ban everything fun. This petition is to make sure that they don't." He stated in very plain, very untrue yet true words. His harassment of the Freeside citizenry wouldn't end until he had this clipboard filled.

"Oh, well I guess I'll sign it then!" The girl asserted, writing her name down before handing the clipboard back to the man with a smile. In easy-to-read, yet pretty handwriting was her name, "MADISON WOLFE". Seeing an opportunity to get a customer, she quickly added, "If you come over to our casino, my sister can sign it too!"

"Jeez, thank you... Madison. You're more helpful than everyone else in this town." He would glare daggers at the yeller, before extending a middle finger at the yeller. "Lead the way, and this better not be a fuckin' sting operation."

"A sting operation?" Madison blinked before quickly shaking her head and excitedly leading him down the street, "Whatever that is, we're not that!"

"If there are 20 roid raged swat officers ready to take me to federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison, I'm not going to wait for you to get out of the grenade radius." He stated, looking down in his coat for one of his five grenades.

"Ew, no, there's no police in our casino," Madison recoiled a bit at the prospect before confidently gesturing to the ruined building across the street from the Silver Rush. The second floor's walls were nearly completely gone, and the windows to the 'casino' were smashed out. Looking inside, one could see a mere two slot machines that looked like they hadn't been used in two hundred years, with one having a piece of paper stuck to it saying, "OUT OF ORDER"

There was a small table with some stained, green paper on it where another girl, presumably Madison's sister, sat. Given the chips she had and the decks of cards, it could be assumed that she was stationed there for anyone who wanted to play blackjack. All in all, while it was a pathetic excuse for a casino, it had an endearing charm to it given it was run by two little girls. The blackjack dealer had a much less extravagant outfit, merely wearing an orange, long-sleeved jacket and shorts with white stripes and a little white spade on the left side of her chest.

It was so pathetic that it was hilarious, the Dude wasn't going to waste his time here. He had came for the signature, not gambling. He would stop infront of the orange-sleeved girl. "Hi there, would you like to sign my petition to keep old stody assholes from banning fun things?"

"Oh, uh, sure, I gue-" Maria would stop short of grabbing the clipboard upon glancing behind the man at her sister, who was making a few hand gestures. She would slowly pull her hands back with a smug grin as she took a deck of cards and skillfully shuffled them as she spoke, "I guess I could sign it... If you can win a game of blackjack."

"Look, I don't have the time and I got more important shit to do. Just sign the damn thing." He was thoroughly uninterested.

Maria would pause, staring up at him for a second in surprise before slumping her shoulders. "Oh... Okay, I..." She reached for the clipboard again, but was persuaded away by frantic gesturing from Madison, "I-I mean... I can't sign it unless you win a game. Come on,

"Are you going to sign it or will it be your surviving family members?" He threatened, not above telling some young wheeler-deeler the what for.

"Well, don't mind if I do!" A whimsical voice cackled from behind the Dude, a pair of white gloves snatching the clipboard from the man. When he turned around, he would find that a thin clown, dressed in a somewhat weathered purple suit, was now signing the petition, handing the clipboard back where, in very large letters, the word "JOKER" sat crudely within one of the boxes. "I always love to help people try and get nothing done!" He laughed.

"Of course it's the clown who cares about the socio-cultural impact of congressional power. Thank you for the signature, now maybe Vince will let me back on the damn team." He would get a better look over the Clown. Reminded him of some comic book. "Did Flying-squirrelman kick you out here too? This shitheap doesn't look like Paradise either."

"You had a run in with those throwbacks too?" The Joker asked, "I was looking to talk to their head honcho- a King of Kings of sorts- and they booted me out because I didn't have... caps!" The clown laughed wildly, "They're all expecting me to carry around hundreds of bottle caps around like pennies! I mean, who has the wallet space for that?!"

"Woah," Madison gasped upon seeing the Joker before jumping back and spreading her arms wide, "Welcome to Madison and Maria's Casino! The only casino in Freeside where you're not at risk of getting sexually transmitted diseases! If you need bottlecaps, you came to the right place!" In turn, Maria would happily wave to the clown prince as she shuffled cards.

The Joker looked about the casino for a moment, taking in the pathetic nature of it compared to the Atomic Wrangler next door, and simply began to cackle incoherently for a moment, holding himself up for a moment, before calming down with a sigh, "Oh, I'm not sure you'd wanna let me play at your tables. Let's just say I'm a bit of a wild card," he chuckled at his own comment.

"Well, it's not like you can use these in blackjack anyway," Madison remarked, pulling one of the Joker's own signature cards seemingly out of thin air and holding it up with a smug grin and a raised brow at her trick.

"Wait- how did you-" the clown checked his pocket to find a card missing, and slowly looked back to Madison with a quickly growing mile-wide smile, "I get it. A classic case of misdirection! Y'know, I got a friend who's great at that kind of thing. One moment, he's over there, the next- right in front of you, ready to foil your plans. He even uses those little smoke bombs most of you magicians use."

In an exaggerated motion, Madison would gawk about, looking for the Joker's supposed friend ovedramatically while Maria watched the clown like a hawk for any trick he might pull in turn.

"No, no, he's not here," the clown prince sighed, his expression dramatically soothing for a moment, "It almost makes me sad to think about. Almost. Now, I don't have to deal with him being a constant pain in my rear whenever I want to take over this dump. No offense to your casino, of course. Your interior decor could use some work- a few less collapsed walls here, some more lighting there- but all in all, it's good for what it is," he snickered.

"We wanted to go to the Strip, but those stupid robots at the gate said we need two thousand bottlecaps before we could go in," Madison huffed, "We'd have a way better casino there..."

"Two thousand? I just woke up there in one of their dumb casinos, met a fellow comedic soul, and walked out here without an issue! Either I was rolling in cash last night, or something's off here..." the Joker hummed, bringing a gloved hand up to his chin as he thought about it.

"Wait, are you from another universe too?" Madison asked curiously, "I thought you were just a... A Vegas clown or something. I guess that means you don't have any bottlecaps, huh?"

"Well, I did have that funny fellow I ran into go on a gambling spree for me. So either he comes out with a black eye, or we're gonna be rolling in caps!" The Joker proclaimed with a cackle.

"Take it from me," Maria spoke up as she pulled out a series of cards from the top of the deck she just shuffled. An ace, king, queen, jack, and a ten were presented on the table: A royal flush in blackjack. "I doubt he's gonna make any money. The house always wins."

"So I shouldn't be gambling in this house either, eh?" The Joker huffed, "I do need some caps. That conversation with that King King can't wait forever." He looked to the Dude with a mischievous grin, "I've got an idea, but I'd rather someone at my side while I'm doing it. You wanna make some caps for your petition? Or you gals?" He looked to the two casino owners.

"Yes!" Madison answered for the both of them, eager to make some money to get into the Strip. Of course, Maria's interest was just as piqued given she was more passionate about the gambling side of a casino and its aesthetics while Madison was more concerned with pure spectacle.

"Tell me funny man, what's your dubious idea on how to make cash quickly?" The dude questioned curtly, tucking his clipboard into his coat pocket.

"The Silver Rush!" The Joker pointed in the general direction of the 'casino', "It's a perfect place to plunder and loot! I mean, look at the guy standing outside! He's armed to the teeth! Now doesn't that imply there's plenty of caps to be made inside?"

"I think that's a weapons store," Madison pointed out, "He wouldn't let me in because I wouldn't give him my smoke bombs after he patted me down."

"Oh ho ho! Even better!" The clown laughed, "Some guns and some cash? I say we just try a little harder. You know how to misdirect him. Just... keep your smoke bombs on yourself like that. They'll be very important."

"Hmm... Okay... But promise nobody's gonna get hurt, okay? I'm okay with stealing as long as I can pay the person back later," Madison asserted with a huff and a fold of her arms. The few caps she and her sister did have were stolen, and she had hoped to make enough profit to slip their victims back their caps by this point.

"Murder an entire store of likely dirty individuals for cash and weapons? Shit, sounds like my kind of gig. So, are we going to do this the loud way or the quiet way? I fuckin' hate the quiet way."

"No. Not murder. There's not gonna be any murder. There will be zero murdering," The little magician huffed.

"Unfortunately, I gotta agree with the kids," the Joker mused, "No killing... for now. We can't be stirring up the beehive full of high-power firearms yet, now can we? Firstly, we'll need a distraction to keep whoever's working there occupied."

"I've been told I am very distracting," Madison proclaimed with pride in spite of knowing she had been insulted in the past, "Though they probably have a bunch of guards inside the store too, and I don't know how we're gonna distract all of them without someone figuring out something's up."

"You mean to tell me we're going to rob an entire store of well-armed and well connected individuals without killing them? Are you fuckin' kidding? Are you looking to wind up naked in the trunk of some black sedan on the outskirts of Tijuana?" The Dude sharply retorted, pulling out a grenade from his coat pocket. "I say we play a nice game of hot-potato with them, whoever catches the most shrapnel dies!"

"...If it gets out of hand, then I give you the permission to play explosive hacky sack," the Joker snickered, "We don't wanna kill all of them- especially not whoever's running the place."

"That is directly the person we want to kill first, the grunts don't come back for revenge." The Dude argued. He would think for a moment. "Okay, some of them do."

"What is with you and killing?" Madison cried out in exasperation.

"Don't you have a child's birthday party to bore?" He snapped back at the young magician.

"Why you..." Madison seethed before regaining her composure after a moment of clenched fists and a playing card slipping out from under her hat. "Even if you don't care about that murder is bad," She asserted, "It's still the easy, boring, coward's way of handling things."

"Pfft, there's nothing cowardly about shooting your enemies directly in the face. Something tells me in this shitheap there's no lawmen beyond the greasers and their greasy king." The Dude stated. Pulling out a deagle, a deagle that he was going to use to pop the guard in the head with.

"Now, now," the Joker mediated, putting himself between the two arguing people, "Let's not start bickering until after we rob the place. We don't want anyone making any bad calls, now do we? As I said, we're only gonna 'shoot our enemies directly in the face' only if it's entirely necessary to get the hell out of there. Got it?"

"If I end up with concrete shoes I'm going to choke you out first." The dude stated, but he was agreeing to go with it.

"Concrete shoes?" Maria questioned as she slipped her deck of cards into her pocket as she got up to stand by her little sister's side.

"I doubt there's any lakes around this dry mess," the Joker snickered as he pointed for the door, "Well, the gun store isn't gonna rob itself, now will it? Let's go!"

"Lead the way facepaint." The Dude stated in a rather chill manner.

And so the Joker did, marching out like the leader of a parade as he crossed the street towards the Silver Rush's guard, making sure his posse was following behind him. "Good afternoon," he met with a bow, "I was looking to buy some of your finest wares."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to search you before letting you in. The only weapons allowed on the premises are the ones we're selling," The guard would reply, clad in blackened armor and holding a plasma rifle at guard.

"Sounds fine by me! A little pat-down won't take too long, now will it?" The Joker laughed, letting the man looking him over for weapons, of which he had none.

The guard would pat the clown down and give a brief glanced down his coat beofre jabbing a thumb inside. "Alright, you're good to go... As for you, the same rule applies. I can't let you in with those smoke bombs." He pointed down to Madison.

"Oh, she knows," the Joker assures with a nod, "She's left all of her bombs at home. Now didn't you?"

"That's right," Madison proclaimed, holding out her arms while Maria would peek from behind her after gently brushing against her back, before stepping aside to let the guard do his work. After an extra-thurough patdown and realizing all Madison had were some playing cards, caps, and a few bits of colorful cloth, he gave her a nod, "Alright, you're good. Nex-"

"By the way, have you seen our casino? Across the street?" Madison happily pointed over to the poor establishment as Maria would pass close by her sister once more, glancing over as well as the guard's attention was only briefly diverted before he looked back down.

"Look, I don't got time for this. Tracksuit, you're next," The guard gestured Maria over, who had just as little as Madison did when he patted her down, though with many more playing cards on her person and a few dirty poker chips. After waving her in, he would turn to The Dude.

"Yeah yeah I know Mr. Cop-a-Feel, go ahead and pat me down already." The dude stated, walking up to the guard. Given that The Dude had a practical armory in his possession, it might take a small while. He had a shotgun, katana, bottle of spray deodorant, machete, dynamite, a glock, a deagle, a hunting rifle and an AR-15. There was also a book titled "What I'm Talkin' About," by Gary Coleman in his possession.

While it made the guard raise a brow, he didn't get paid to care about how many weapons customers had, only that all of those weapons were safely tucked away before they went in. "Alright, there," He asserted after locking away the confiscated goods in a black and grey trunk on the ground beside himself, "You'll be able to get these back on your way out."

"Oh, you should keep them ready to go," the Joker mused as he wrapped an arm around the guard's shoulder nonchalantly, "We'll be out faster than you can say... bang? Boom? I'm not really sure just yet. But you'll know it."

"... Don't touch me," The guard muttered as he slowly pushed the clown prince away from himself. He would've socked the Joker in the face right there if not for the fact that he was a potential customer. He opened the door for the group, gesturing them inside.

"Fair enough. See you soon!" The Joker giggled before joining the rest of the group, opening the doors to the casino-turned-gun store and leading the way inside.

"If I find any fingerprints on those, I'm cleaning them with your tongue." The dude joked.

"... What kinda weird-ass Freeside shit..." The guard mumbled quietly to himself as the four were greeted by yet more guards. The interior of the Silver Rush was dim, with only a single center of light where a woman was speaking with a man in a grey suit. The entry area was flanked by two guards on each side. Behind them were narrow halls that led to the centrally lit area surrounded by a chainlink fence. Every guard wore the same black combat armor and held a plasma rifle at guard.

"The bosses are having a meeting," One of the guards blocking the group from entering the rest of the shop explained, "You'll have to wait until it's over."

"A real jackboot operation you have going here. You even have an authentic executee!" The Dude stated, pointing to the man tied down in the shop, with his hands bound.

The woman briefly glanced in the direction of her new customers before addressing the man she was speaking with, "Mr. Soren, please get to the point. The second half of your payment is late and I want to know why."

"Ms. Van Graff, my associates and I have decided that we wish to renegotiate the terms of our deal," The man tried to explain.

"Might I ask for what reason? The shipment was delivered. The guns were tested before leaving this facility," She asked coldly.

"Regardless, we feel that the quality of the weapons is below expectation, and hoped to adjust the price accordingly."

There was a brief moment of silence before she feigned realization and nodded, "Ah, I think I understand what the issue here is. Excuse me for a moment, would you?" She turned her head to the only guard in the central area with her, who seemed just as displeased with the man as she was, "Do it."

The guard raised his rifle, the only laser variant carried by those guarding the Silver Rush, and fired upon the 'executee'. The poor man didn't even have time to object as he was vaporized, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ash. The man in the suit cowered in fear as 'Ms. Van Graff' towered over him and spat, "Never break faith with the Van Graffs, Mr. Soren." As she walked over to the ash pile, she continued, "I expect you'll have the rest of our payment ready tomorrow morning."

"Christ, I felt that shit from here. How much fuckin' power you got in that thing god damn." T. Dude commented on the laser-rifle Jean-Baptiste carried.

Gloria Van Graff would glance up at the comment with a slight smirk, seeing she had unintentionally hooked a customer with the demonstration before barking, "Okay everyone, show's over. Back to work!" The guards blocking the group off would meander away to different areas of the room, standing guard and slowly patrolling. The security was plenty warranted given the value and power of the weapons sold at the Silver Rush.

The clown prince tidied himself up, dusting off his suit and straightening out his dropping corsage before walking around the fences and into the central area, smiling to Gloria and Jean-Baptiste. "You got a ruthless business acumen," he noted, wagging a finger at the two of them as his smile grew even further, "I like it. Would you consider any... business opportunities? Like with the man you gotta vacuum up now?"

Madison and Maria followed close behind before gawking at all the weapons and explosives on display around the Silver Rush, turning their gazes to and fro in wonder at the sci-fi armaments. Meanwhile, Gloria stared at the Joker for a moment with a rasied brow before remarking, "... Pardon me if I think you're wasting my time. My associates aren't typically clowns accompanied by little girls."

"Them? Bah! Hardly know 'em," the Joker shrugged off his accomplices, "To be honest, we were gonna waste your time and just rob you, but now? After that fantastic display? I think we can help eachother out and waste nobody's time. I can make it so that you don't need to do that. So that you'll never have to have any late payments ever again. You picking up what I'm putting down?"

"For someone to try and rob us, they'd either have to be stupid, insane, or completely ignorant of the Van Graffs or even the level of security here. None of those sound like an appealing business partner," Gloria stated.

"Well, two out of three isn't bad, I guess," Joker muttered before gesturing to Gloria, "That final one, though? That's why I'm a good business opportunity. I don't care how big and scary your operation is. I don't even know how big and scary it is. All I know is that you definitely have better things to do than be shooting people to get your money. You should let someone else be doing that for you. And we'll do it for you. No questions asked."

"Uh-huh... Do explain exactly what you're trying to propose here," Gloria requested, still unimpressed with the Joker's offer, but figured he was a way to pass the time until an actual customer came through the door. Meanwhile, Madison and Maria seemed to be making frequent trips to the store's bathroom.

"Well, you see, me and my partner here," he gestured to the Dude with a finger, "Are what you'd consider... hired businessmen. We'll go anywhere you need, no matter how far, get your payments no matter how, and bring them to you with the very smallest, most itty bitty tax on them for ourselves. You won't have to waste your time. You won't have to waste your bullets. And you certainly won't have to hear morons complain that your fine guns aren't up to their standards. Does that make more sense, or am I going to have to get a diagram made? And is there anywhere around here to get that done?"

"... When we need something like what you're proposing done, we hire someone we can trust. Someone that I know will handle such a matter the exact way I would want them to. We're a business. That means we don't care about just getting our payments, we care about getting more payments in the future. Having a clown go out and collect from our associates in of itself would be bad for business," She retorted, "Besides... Clients tend to know that it is in their best interest to follow through on a contract. There are rare exceptions, as you saw today, but even then..."

"What? You don't think your associates would get a kick out of it?" the Joker chuckled, "And what if word gets out about this? And what if, even for just a little bit, even just among a few people, they start to think the same thing about your wares? Word can spread like a wildfire if you're not careful. You gotta keep your firefighters handy," he gestured to Gloria's side piece with a grin, "Or else a few little sparks could set the whole thing up in smoke. I could go talk with my friends over at the Kings, maybe even a few of those casino fellows, who I'm sure wouldn't like to hear that their potentially getting swindled for lousy merchandise."

"Yes, I'm quite certain you have plenty of sway in Freeside and the Strip. You have a very notable reputation," Gloria remarked in a sarcastic, yet cold tone, "But if you are so intent on defaming the Van Graff name, then perhaps I should add more dust to the pile." At that, the attention of every guard in the room was directed towards the clown and Gloria. Jean-Baptiste himself almost seemed eager behind his stern expression as waited for Gloria's word.

"...You could, I suppose," Joker hummed, not really seeming to care about the guards focused on him, "But that'd just be a waste of ammo, wouldn't it? I mean, I'm just a lowlife vagrant- hell, we all just walked out of some crappy heap of ruins called a casino. I'm sure the bullets in those bad boys are worth more than I am by a magnitude of... hmmm, at least ten. So you'd be at a serious capital loss on them," he assured, "Let's just... not shoot. I'm not really wanting to slander anybody- you're just not giving me plenty of options here for this."

Meanwhile, the Dude had pulled out his book and begun to read it while the two were discussing a poor business deal. He didn't seem to pay the two of them much mind, that was until the guns were pointed at Joker and Gloria. He'd look up from his book, letting out a 'hmph' of surprise.

"I'm not giving you plenty of options?" Gloria repeated, a bit of amusement showing through her glare. Of course, it vanished soon after she began speaking once more, "It's your job, the person presenting an offer, to make the options. I rejected what you offered me, gave you the reasons why, and that is that. From what I can gather, you're desperate for caps." She considered offering the open position of guard to the Dude, but decided against allowing anyone associated with the Joker to handle something more complicated than flicking a light switch, "But we're not a charity. If you're looking for handouts, the Followers are down the street and in the fort. Now since you've admitted to having no caps and otherwise have nothing to offer me, I suggest you, your friend, and your children leave my store before I decide it is time to procure new target dummies."

"Hey I haven't done shit, just waiting for him to finish." The dude commented without looking up from his book.

"Then we'll storm the fort then," Joker concluded as he nodded to the girls and took towards the door, "Let's get out of here. I told you two this was gonna be a waste of our time."

"Okay, Maria's still in the bathroom th- Oh, wait, there she is," Madison smiled as her older sister exited the restroom and walked out to see quite a few eyes on her. With a blush and a nervous smile, she followed Madison towards the door. Gloria silently eyed the members of the Joker's group.

"We'll be on our way," the Joker farewelled and walked out the door, before his head popped back in, "Oh! But if you ever need someone to liven up a party? Now you know where to call first."

The Dude would walk up to Gloria now that the three were gone. "Now that you've sent off the clown, I'd like to know more about those laser rifles of yours. I don't have much in the way of 'caps' currently, but I do have some munitions you might like to trade for?"

"Oh? Do tell, and please don't waste my time. I don't have much patience left in me," Gloria inquired.

"I do have a Napalm Launcher in near mint condition as well as a decent stockpile of canisters for it. There's also a mini-nuke launcher and accompanying ammo in the case out there if you like WMDs." The Dude clarified.

Meanwhile, as the Joker and the two girls would leave the Silver Rush's vicinity and eyesight, Madison would quickly turn to the Joker with a wide grin and throw down a smoke bomb. There was a blinding flash before smoke surrounded the three, which soon dissipated to reveal Madison and Maria standing side-by-side with a modest pile of armaments on the ground before them that they had smuggled out of the Silver Rush. There were grenades, mines, ammunition, and pistols of both laser and plasma varieties.

"Ta-da!" Madison exclaimed with pride.

"Nice grabs, girls," the Joker picked up one of the laser pistols and examined it closely, "I was hoping we'd take their money, but we can do plenty with guns and bombs too!"

"Yeah! We can sell all the weapons and stuff to someone else!" Madison agreed, though didn't realize what the Joker meant by 'doing plenty' with the guns and bombs.

"I was thinking of something a little more... dramatic," the Joker disagreed, "That casino right next to yours? I say we break house there. Literally."

"Wait... Hold on, I thought we agreed we wouldn't be hurting anyone," Madison chided as she squinted her eyes up at the clown prince in disapproval, "Even if they are our rivals, I don't wanna kill any of them!"

"Did I ever say we'd kill them? Maybe scare or maim, but certainly not kill," the Joker nodded, "And if we're just selling a handful of guns and grenades, we're not gonna make squat."

"No, no maiming! I don't want to use any weapons on anyone or hurt anyone!" Madison asserted, "And you saw how much security that lady had! She has to pay them! Which means her stuff sells for a lot! Which means we can sell this stuff for a lot!"

"She sells it for a high price because she has that much security," Joker explained, "And you heard that man she vaporized! They're underwhelming little guns! At least with robbing the other guys, we could get some actual cash- or caps, or whatever."

"No! I'm putting my foot down! We're not gonna hurt or scare people!" Madison huffed with a stomp of her foot. Maria glanced to her sister, then to the Joker, and folded her arms with a nod and a huff of her own.

"Agh! You're just not getting it!" the Joker groaned as he planted his face in his hands, "You're already hurting yourself here by shooting yourselves in the foot with that choice. You wanna make any real money? You wanna have people actually walk into your casino not by accident or looking for a place to get high? You gotta get your hands dirty like everyone else."

"Nuh-uh," Madison huffed, shaking her head in childish stubborness, "I already got my hands dirty by stealing. With the money from selling these weapons away, I can buy slot machines that aren't broken, a nice looking roulette table.... Maybe some paint for the walls... Maybe actual walls..."

"You wanna bet?" the Joker grinned, "Right now, I got an friend in the big casinos, making the big money, if you get what I mean. When they come back, and I go talk to the Kings and everybody else on my list, I'll make sure to give you a visit. If you girls got that kind of stuff up and running like you said you will, I'll throw in a good word here and there. If not..." he simply shrugged, "I'm not sure yet."

It was just then that catastrophic gunfire and explosions would erupt near the Freeside gate as some sort of commotion went on. Jevil had returned, and he had broken both the Gommorah, The Tops and pillaged the Ultra-Luxe. He may have also reduced some civilian's HP to zero in the streets by accident really. Jevil was a teleporting, dimensional nusiance as he absorbed grenade detonation and irritatingly weaved out of the way of bullets sent flying his way. "METAMORPHOSIS!" He'd cry, before his entire form glowed a soft white. Compressing down to the size and shape of a person-sized scythe. The bladed instrument was adorned with cloth and fabric similar to his clothes, and even had bells along the edges. Now there were cloning scythes attacking the Securitrons near the strip gate. He would fly at a few of them, hoping to destroy their transmitting antenna thing at the top. The commotion could be heard through the entirety of Freeside.

Joker would chuckle wildly at the sudden sound of gunfire and madness as he looked back to the two girls, "Well, speak of the little devil himself. If you'll excuse me, ladies, I got more business to attend to before I can make this place mine."

As securitrons frantically rolled around the streets, shouting in their harsh robotic voices for Jevil to submit or for him to be exterminated and some of them destroyed, Madison and Maria stared in shock. "... M-Maria?" Madison sputtered out.

"Yeah... Yeah, let's get out here," She quickly nodded. The two scrambled to pick up their smuggled haul before fleeing the area for the safety of the Old Mormon Fort.

"AND NOW BOISENGIRLS, OUR GRAND FINALE~!" He warbled, morphing back into his humanoid form. The very space around the freeside gate seemed to shift and change colors, the ground, pacement and air taking on blue and grey tones. THE CAROUSEL!" The space around him, in a percent cylinder along the tinted space would begin to rotate independantly of its surroundings. The securitrons around him were thrown around by the carousel as it began to spin ever faster. Carousel rides began to materialize out of thin air, providing more objects for the robots to bash up against. Eventually he would throw his hands up from his torso and into the air. The carousel space disappearing and sending the heavy securitrons flying in all manner of directions. "A THANK THANK YOU FOR THE SHOW AND THE FUN FUN! A WONDERFUL NIGHT TO YOU ALL!" Jevil exclaimed, before bolting down the street like a mad-man. Towards Joker.

Any denizens of Freeside were in a state of shock and horror. The few Kings that would loiter outside their establishment stood in awe, mouths agape. The criers of the Silver Rush and Atomic Wrangler had since dashed into their respective businesses to hide and tell their employers of what they saw.

"Ha-ha! What a wonderful display there!" the clown prince applauded with a laugh and a long bout of clapping, "Bravo! Oh, I wish there could be an encore! ...Maybe there can be later. But that can wait until after we deal with making this place a bit more fun. You found us a lump sum of cash, I'm guessing?"

With all that said, even after everything everyone had just witnessed...

There was always that one guy.

From seemingly nowhere, some absolute doofus of a man with a tire iron ran up to the two and wildly swung his 'weapon' at the both of them. It seemed ridiculous that someone could possibly think they could kill and rob Jevil after what just happened, yet Freeside has those kinds of people.

His tire-iron would smack Jevil in the head, and quite humorously, his spring-loaded neck would bounce back towards the thug. His circular head smacking the thug in the nose in turn, while his head continued to bounce for a few more moments before coming to a rest.

That seemed to knock some sense into the buffoon, who put a hand to his bloodied nose after tumbling to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and ran away while screaming, "This is hopeless!"

"Oh I have lots!" He stated, holding up the combined earnings from The Tops and Gommorah, along with the massive duffle-bags that contained the entirety of the Ultra Luxe's caps. Denarius and NCR money were ignored. He'd toss them at the Joker's feet. "That's all, all of it! The last were so fun fun to get!"

"O-ho-ho! This is perfect!" the Joker declared in glee as he took one of the dufflebags with a heaving grunt, "Now to bring the Kings what they want. You can keep the rest somewhere safe for now, right? I have a feeling we'll need it in the future."

Jevil nodded vigorously, before his jaw distended greatly and he proceeded to swallow the remaining bags much like a snake. He would pat his stomach proudly. "Goodensafe!"

----

The Joker kicked open the door to the King's headquarters with a grunt, carrying his bag precariously in his armpit. Without skipping a beat, he would toss the dufflebag to Pacer's feet, the sound of hundreds of caps clinking about as it slapped onto the floor. He would silently smile at the Elvis impersonator, knowing exactly what was supposed to happen now.

"What the hell- Wait a minute, I remember you. You came in here earlier wantin' to see the King. Whatcha got in here, huh? Your tribu- Ho-holy!" Pacer gasped in shock upon opening the dufflebag, his eyes widening at the bounty. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing before he opened the door for the Joker, "Y-Yeah, that should be enough. Head on inside. He's, uh... The bored lookin' guy with the robot dog." Pacer, of course, seemed to be looking at the caps more than he was the Joker or the door.

The clown prince nodded with a sigh and replied, "I thought it would be," as he strode past Pacer, patting him on the shoulder and walked into the showroom, immediately noting the cybernetic canid and the unamused pompadour-wearer and making his way to his side. "So you're the king they're all calling the King? I was expecting a queen and a court jester, though I guess the guy at the door could've been the latter."

"Look, Rexie, someone new's come to see us!" The King himself cooed to his dog, ruffling what of its fur was left before letting out a sigh at the lack of doggish enthusiasm, "Poor boy. He hasn't been feeling well lately... But I hope Pacer didn't cause you no trouble comin' in. I'm the King. What can I do for you?" The King looked fairly similr to the rest of his underlings, with the most distinguishing difference being he wore a white coat as opposed to the black jackets the rest of his crew donned.

"You're the man who runs Freeside? Now, tell me this- how did a band of greasers get to be the bosses around here? And why are they all the same-looking? I know I can run a lot of circus material, but even I can change things up here and there," the Joker cackled, before quickly calming himself with a cough, "My apologies. There's been a lot of work leading up to this, getting all the money your Pacer friend wanted. I was looking to see... if you wanted to go big. Bigger than this, I mean."

"Bigger? I... Hold on, you said you were gettin' money for Pacer? I swear that boy... How much did he shake you down for to come see me?" The King asked, glancing towards the door the Joker had come from with disapproval before looking back to the clown prince himself.

"Oh, a few hundred caps here and there, nothing serious at all," the Joker laughed, "And I'm getting to what I mean by that. Right now, I'm-"

Before the Joker could finish speaking, the King would holler over at the open door, "Pacer! Get in here!"

Slowly, the greaser would poke his head through the doorframe, unable to hide the fact that he was, well, hiding something. "Heeeeyy, whatcha need?"

"Pacer you know what I've told you about makin' people pay to come here. Give this man his money back. That ain't how we roll around here," the King ordered. He would've just fished some caps out of his own pocket, but it didn't seem the Joker could remember exactly how much he gave to get in.

"... But... Look, it's a lot of caps, we sho-"

"That makes it even more important we give him back his caps."

After a brief stare-down, Pacer would reluctantly shuffle into the room with the dufflebag in tow, dropping it by the Joker's feet before walking off without another word beyond his grumbling to himself. The King simply gawked down at the bag in awe before slowly looking up at the clown prince. "... If I didn't have this bag here right in front of me, and you said you brought this much money just to talk to me... I wouldn't have believed you... You obviously got somethin' real important you wanna tell me, so I'm all ears."

"...It all started when I got here, out of that Strip," Joker began, "It didn't take a genius to see that everyone here hates how it's run. How those casino schmucks hold all the say in how things are run, especially that House guy. So what I'm proposing probably isn't a new idea here," the Joker paused for dramatic effect, "With the funds my associate and I have got here- this just being a teeny tiny amount of it- we're gonna spread the word that there's new sheriffs in town. Us. Including you, if you're wanting something actually entertaining to do."

"If you help us, the Strip... the whole of New Vegas- it's yours for the Kings to patrol, and a good chunk of the money out of it as well. Let's say... you get the Tops when all things are done. I think those guys could learn a thing or two from your showmanship," the Joker concluded, looking down to Rex before looking back to the King with a smile, "In fact, before you think about helping me out with something this big, I'll help you out with something just as big for you."

The King was silent for a moment, thinking over all the Joker had said before looking to Rex. "... Now I don't wanna have you go helpin' my boy Rex here without considerin' what I'd be doin' for you first. Wouldn't be fair to you. Things can be pretty hard here in Freeside, and if you're sayin' what I think you're sayin', that could help a lot of folks around here... That being said, the Kings aren't the sort to go shooting up the Strip, and you're not gonna find any armies looking to take on House in Freeside other than the NCR... And I'd think you would hate them more than you seem to hate House...."

"Besides, The Kings are about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right. I'm not lookin' to run casinos and rule New Vegas, just keep people from killin' each other in our community. I wanna help the people here, but I'm not sure what kind of help you're expectin' from me."

"...You're right," the Joker sighed, taking a step back as his smile lessened, "I dunno what I was thinking, just walking in here and asking that big of a deal... but I'll still help you out there," the clown prince chose, "Call it a streak of altruism. I'm not a veterinarian though, even if I know my way around the anesthesia and needles and stuff from time to time, so I'm not sure exactly where to start. You got any idea?"

The King gave the Joker a surprised look before glancing down to Rex. "He's been actin' peculiar for some time now. I took him to the Followers and had him checked out, and they said his brain is bad or something. Your best bet would be to talk to Julie Farkas over at the Old Mormon Fort north of here. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did... If you can help Rex, I'd be mighty appreciative."

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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by SpongeBobRocks23 on Sun Dec 29, 2019 8:15 pm

Windows XP Messanger
nicebot88: uuggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhdhdhdhddhdh
xXHyperKing18Xx: ok wow hi 2 u 2 woodman
nicebot88: sorry dude im just frustrated right now
xXHyperKing18Xx: is dis about dat crowssoverr thing ur in
nicebot88: yeah its already been a few minutes and i already got tricked into buying hotsauce. my mouth still burns a bit. >:[
xXHyperKing18Xx: hot saws? lol
nicebot88: its not funny dude
xXHyperKing18Xx: srry




xXHyperKing18Xx: hey i got an idea
nicebot88: what
xXHyperKing18Xx: wat if i joined u
nicebot88: dude you can do that
xXHyperKing18Xx: lol yea it easy
nicebot88: nice >:]
xXHyperKing18Xx: yea just giv me a bit



Goodsprings
As this...strange little creature entered the town of Goodsprings, the citizens really didn’t know what to think of it. You’d think considering the things that inhabited this wide and expansive nuclear wasteland—literal giant cockroaches or giant robots programmed to stop the spread of a Communism—things wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary for them.

n-nope

Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 A71-CA7-D2-BB6-D-492-D-8-DEB-0-B1-D48-C48-E9-C

there it fucking was

A literal, actual, sentient cam corded, with robotic limbs and a circular saw in the form of a CD that replaced its left hand. In its right hand it carried a small version of what looked to be a very old early 2000’s laptop, appropriate for its small size. It looked around frantically through it’s camera lens, clearly trying to look for someone or something. Ignoring the crowd of people staring at him, he turned on his laptop and began typing into a messenger application. After a quick bit of typing, he pressed the “Enter” key.


xXHyperKing18Xx: k im hear wher r u
nicebot88: where you at
xXHyperKing18Xx: at the entrance 2 de taown
nicebot88: ok but i dont know where that is
nicebot88: elaborate dude
xXHyperKing18Xx: k hold on ill snd u a screnshot

The small camera would face toward the nearest landmark, which in this case would be a residential building with a rusty red truck parked beside it and take a picture of it. From here it would pull out an SD Card from its bottom and insert it in the laptop. From here a pop up showed up on the computer indicating that an SD Card had been inserted into the computer. The camera clicked on a folder titled “Downloads”, in which it clicked on the photo it recently took and pressed “Control” and “C”.

xXHyperKing18Xx: k im sending it 2 u rn
nicebot88: nice
nicebot88: wait

Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 91356479-59-F4-4-D10-AF53-12945-AD763-ED

nicebot88: dude what the fuck is this
xXHyperKing18Xx: srry my qalety isnt gud
nicebot88: dude thats not the only problem
nicebot88: wtf is with that watermark
nicebot88: and whys it so smeared
nicebot88: you know what forget it ill find you myself just stay put
xXHyperKing18Xx: k

With this the camera closed its laptop and sat down in the middle of the dirt path. It stared at the gawking crowd for a long, awkward moment, before it finally decided to say something.

“hey u guys wanna watch my new utube amv”

With this he pulled up Windows Movie Maker and turned on a rather lazily edited music video featuring a large chunk of anime characters. The surrounding people examined the video with piqued interests, having not seen anything like this before.

The camera blushed, glad they were interested in his work. He had spent the last 3 days on it, and was proud of how it turned out. “thnx gaiz plz rate 5 stars” thanked the camera.



A good while from the Devil’s Throat, though not in anywhere in particular...
“Years have passed since the incident in Freddy Fazbears…”

“Several long, painful years stuck in this heavy, metallic body of mine…”

“Which is why it’s so surprising that now…”



“...We’re finally free.”


A young girl stands by herself in the middle of an unfamiliar area. She had no idea where she was, and quite frankly didn't really care. All she knew was that she had finally escaped the bowels of that animatronic chicken that she had resided in for several years. The Incident that happened in Freddy Fazbear’s seemed like it had happened almost centuries ago, though it had only been a few decades. The wounds that had effectively scarred her and carried into the afterlife still stung, even after all this time, but in this moment, she was happy she was far away from anything relating to Freddy Fazbear. She would finally be at peace, and wouldn't have to worry about anything else ever again.

The young lady continued to stare into the distance for the longest time, not taking her eyes off the sight for one second. As she did this, slowly but surely, a smile formed on her face, and tears started to develop in her eyes.

And then, quite abruptly…

WHOOSH!

She darted up into the air, spinning and laughing in glee.



The Devil’s Throat
Teardrop was in a predicament at the moment. First off, out of absolutely nowhere she was ripped from the BFB Tournament and placed on top of...a buried truck? On the upside, she wouldn’t have to endure anymore of Four’s challenges for the time being, and a day away from that weirdo is a good day in her opinion. On the downside, she had no idea where she was, which leads into the second part of this conundrum: whatever this place was, it was clearly dangerous for a water droplet like her, especially considering the utterly terrifying monsters she saw stalking her from the corner of her eye. Her neutral demeanor developed into a fearful one, as if she tried to make a run for it, she’d surely be in for it. She couldn’t call for help either because of her...condition. At least, she couldn’t call for help in the auditorial sense. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Teardrop would remain on the truck until she came up with a plan to get herself out of this.

She would sit for a good, long time, until she noticed something in the sky. Flying high in the air, slowly passing by the crater she was trapped in, looked like a little girl, donning a pink dress and a red bow in her blonde hair. Oh sweet God, a person! A strange person flying in the air, but a person nonetheless! She would need to just get their attention and she would be saved. But how? She had nothing with her to help her communicate! If she didn’t act fast she’d be stuck here! It was all so infuriating—

PHEW!

Suddenly, Teardrop shot some lasers from her eyes in anger. Oh. Yeah. She forgot she could do that. Acting quick, she began to spell out the words: “SOS” using her laser eyes. Afterwards, she would charge a laser to be aimed near the flying girl. Not close enough to hit her, but close enough for her to notice.

The girl jumped at the sight of the laser, turning towards Teardrop, who began shaking and flailing about, gesturing to the message she wrote in an attempt to catch her attention. Thankfully, this would work, and the flying girl would float to her aid. At first, approaching Teardrop, she would be immensely skeptical. She seemed not familiar with Teardrop, and admittedly, Teardrop was skeptical of her. “...Um...hello?” cautiously spoke the girl. Teardrop would wave back slowly. The two would stare at each other. To the both of them, they’ve never seen anyone like themselves before. This girl was not used to seeing a real, sentient drop of water in front of her, unless it was a cartoon character. Teardrop, similarly, was not used to the anatomy of humans, let alone knew what one looked like.

Teardrop would snap out of her gaze, gesturing frantically at her message she wrong on the truck. The girl would snap out of it as well, realizing that Teardrop needed assistance out of here. “O-Oh! You need help!” the girl exclaimed. She held out her hands. “Grab on. I’ll carry you out of here.” With this, Teardrop grabbed a hold of the girl’s hands, but found she was unable to. When she tried to touch them, her palms would go right through her. It was almost like she was a ghost. (which she was but shoooosh shoooooooooooooosh) “...Oh. I’m sorry. I forgot I’m...dead.” she stated sadly. Teardrop’s eyes widened. That...explained a lot, actually. The girl sighed, sitting crisscross applesauce in the air, putting a shoulder near her knee and a hand on her cheek. “I...can’t help you. I’m sorry.” she expressed.

Teardrop slumped into a sitting position, looking to the ground in distraught. “...M-Maybe if we sit here long enough, we’ll both get an idea on how to get out of here.” suggested the girl. Teardrop’s expression snapped to fear yet again. If she had actually solid skin a band of sweat would have dripped across her forehead in the moment the girl said that...but since she was made entirely out of water this was not the case at all, and thus the only thing to indicate her fear was just her expression and body language, which the ghost girl caught onto quickly. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Teardrop got up, preparing to go about another way of communication with this girl.

The dreaded game of charades.

She tried her best to bare her teeth like an animal, though she lacked the tusks to look similar to a monster, and because of this just looked like a snaggletoothed hillbilly. She began to move about back and forth on the truck to imitate a scary monster, legs apart as she moved around, hands in the air with her “claws” outstretched. The girl watched in confusion. She knew she was tryin to say something to her...but what? “U-Um...I’m not sure I understand.” she said. Teardrop frowned, freezing momentarily before continuing, this time trying to ensure the imitation was more clear. Still nothing.

Oh boy they are gonna be here a long time.



The Goose and Emma
The Goose, acting quickly, shot up in the air, hovering a few seconds in the air using the rapid flapping of its wings as the oncoming meteor would pass by. It would then land once again, honking at Culitt’s ignorance. Even going so far as to temp the armored buff soldier further by playfully swinging his tail feather at him, which if the Goose was lucky, would bring Culitt farther away from the red woman and give her an opportunity to attack him.

The red woman would continue to watch. Not sure what to do.
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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by thecardiackidofDCVII on Mon Dec 30, 2019 2:47 am

Aeth, Zan, H, Teed, Cardiac
Near Camp Golf

Slowly, Avalam would open her eyes. The brown and beige clad shapeshifter let out a pitiful groan as she rubbed her head, blinking harshly as she groggily got her bearings. "Oh ... Oh my head ... What happened last night?" She mumbled, wiping at her eyes before realizing ...

"Wait ... Where the ..." She gasped, quickly looking around herself in a panic, "Salgia ?! Klursi !? W-What happened last night !?" She looked absolutely terrified while rangers in the distance at Camp Golf only gave her a passing glance as they surveyed the area.

The sound of heavy footsteps came slowly from behind the shapeshifter, as a shadow of a very tall humanoid figure soon fell over Avalam. "... Are you alright?" the figure asked in a calm, almost posh voice, simply stopping a few feet behind her.

Avalam let out a yelp at the sudden voice behind her before putting a hand to her chest as she turned around. "Oh, goodness. Sorry, I ju-" She stopped once she saw just who- what [/ i] - had spoke. She sputtered out a few terrified breaths before covering her mouth just as she let out a shrill scream. She had enough sense to know she probably didn't need to scream, but she couldn't help herself. The least she could do was cover her mouth.

"... Is there something wrong?" Dukhul asked, looking about himself to see if there were potential dangers lurking about, before realizing with some embarassment, taking a few steps back as he continued, "Oh- I [i] do [/ i] apologize! I ... I did not mean to startle you. I was not under the impression you would be surprised about my appearance. "

Meanwhile , a small humanoid was watching this interactiong giggling to itself, [i] Silly human being afraid of dark types. [/ I]

After whimpering into her hands for a moment, Avalam shakily uncovered her mouth and managed to apologize herself, "N-No, I ... I just- I scare easy- Y-You're fine, really." It was an easier explanation than going on about Regatian norms and whatnot in addition to simply being started.

"No, I am still deeply sorry," the Heg shook his head, somewhat small in comparison to his body, vehmently, "I should have known it to be unwise to just go walking up behind people unannounced. It's a rather rude thing to do regardless of appearances. I am Dukhul, "bowed he," Eldest son of my family and only one to travel the stars. "

Avalam took a deep breath as she picked herself up, noting the mannerisms of Dukhul and matching him with a curtsy. "II am Avalam ... I ... Come from the kingdom of Regat." She was unsure of what else she could say besides that she made clothes, which wasn't exactly a very interesting tagline.

"I am honored to be in your presence, Avalam of Regat," Dukul took a bow again, before taking another inspection of his surroundings, "I take it that we are ... not in Regat?"

"O-Oh, I uh-" Avalam stammered out, about to ask not to be given such an eloquent name by Dukhul before looking around herself, "Well... No... I'm not sure where we are. I'm scared to think of how I must have ended up here... By chance, have you seen someone... green? With purple hair and yellow eyes?"

"...No, I cannot say I have seen anyone around here like that," Dukhul commented with a frown, before returning to a more optimistic expression, "I can say, though, that I arrived here shortly before you, it seems, so my word may not be the most reliable."

The Mawile looked at the duo for a moment, she could tell that the larger of the two was not as threatening as the female once assumed, and that they seemed passive she would approach them. The fair gave its larger jaws a quick brush to remove any dust before placing it behind her and slowly approaching the two.

After letting out a disappointed, "Oh," and looking to the ground for a moment, Avalam would look back up to Dukhul. "Well, I- OH MY GOODNESS WHAT IS THAT!?" She yelped, leaping back and pointing at the Mawile before fearfully holding her hands close to herself.

"Maw-ile?" The pokemon replied as she placed a finger on her chin and cocked her head to the side in an attempt to appear less threatening.

"...It does not appear to be aggressive," Dukhul curiously noted as he cocked his head to the side, kneeling down to better get to the level of the pokemon, "You look to be of a certain intelligence enough to understand us. Are you a friend? Or... a foe? I'd rather you not be the latter."

"Maw." The pokemon replied with a nod of her head and a smile.

As the trio were conversing, there was the sudden noise of something forcefully hitting the ground. Doctor Strange had fallen from a portal into this new location, landing in a heap in plain sight of the group. The doctor stood up, dusting himself off. As expected, Avalam let out another shriek, albeit with less terror.

"Er, sorry to interrupt you all," Strange called out as he approached the trio, "Wait -- this looks like... I think I'm still in the Clash, and clearly, the rest of you are too... I suppose we should start off with introductions? Call me Doctor Strange, of the Masters of the Mystic Arts..."

"Wile?" the pokemon replied, looking at the doctor, another stupid human, for now she would wait to see what items they had. Though these humans might be good for amusement.

"A-Avalam..." The shapeshifter nervously introduced before pointing up a finger and asking, "Are... Are you okay? You seemed to hit the ground quite hard." Another important note was Strange's title. Did everyone have fancy titles around here? Perhaps she could manage her occupation into something impressive... 'Seamstress of Regat'? She wished she had thought of it earlier.

"Mawile!" The pokemon happily responded, showing its cuter side to the doctor while also managing to show its jaws to the duo that was now behind her.

"...How far did you fall?" Dukhul asked, looking back up with perplexment as to how a human could survive a fall as high as he assumed Strange had plunged, before shaking his head, "Matters not- I am Dukhul. It is a pleasure to be in your presence."

"Nice to meet all of you -- and, don't worry about the fall. It was like falling off your bed... inconvenient but not life-threatening. Now, I guess I better check -- do any of you already realize that you are involved in an event known as a Dimensional Clash?" Doctor Strange inquired of the trio.

Avalam slowly looked between Dukhul and Mawile, cringing slightly at the pokemon's appearance, but otherwise was seeing what they would say. She knew that she was in [i]something
that had taken her to some other world before, and she wasn't sure if she ended up here because of it or because she was completely wasted last night. Nor did she know if the event itself was called a 'Dimensional Clash'.

"Maw?" The Pokémon asked eyeing the eye shaped necklace of the doctor.

"I was not aware we were in some sort of tournament event," Dukhul looked between the three others, "That is... somewhat disconcerting."

"I don't think it's a tournament, necessarily. As in, we don't have to fight each other to get out of this alive. However, there is some being or organization out there calling themself the 'tourneymaster' who is bringing all of us into this universe for some purpose we don't know yet. I'm just here to prevent them from getting their hands on my universe." Strange explained to his new companions.

"Might?" The Pokémon asked somewhat eagerly.

"Your universe?" Dukhul blinked incredulously, "I may not be well-read in such fields, but I understand that the universe encompasses everything, does it not? How could there be more than one?"

"Having your conception of reality being challenged is a... Thing that happens," Avalam noted with some discomfort at just how different everything was from how she believed it to be as well, "For me, the proof of this being another worl- universe is we do not have a sun." To emphasize her point, she pointed a finger up at the sky to the star in question, which was not far off from setting on the horizon.

"...That's rather odd," Dukhul blinked, shaken by the sheer strangeness of the idea of both multiple universes and a world without the light of a sun, "...Is it cold in Regat?"

"O-Oh, no, it's rather warm in comparison to... Not-Regat," Avalam explained with a bit of a nervous laugh, "The pyromancers and photomancers make sure of that. I suppose wearing a scarf like mine helps, but it's not like we're freezing or anything." Such lingo referring to the magic users of her world was so natural to the shapeshifter that she didn't think that Dukhul might not know what she was even saying.

"Pyromancers? You mean those who can shoot fire from their hands and will heat from nothing?" The alien asked. He'd never heard those called psions names such as those, but supposed that different names would arise across different cultures.

Mawile nodded to Dukhul, This one is not as dumb.

"There is an incredible amount of universes. Perhaps even an infinite many," Strange confirmed for Dukhul, before turning to Avalam, "So, you hail from a universe where magic is common in society? Do you have any abilities?"

Nearby, atop the roof of the Camp Golf resort. A bugman was watching the group and the NCR around the area. He had the countenance of a tarantula hawk with his four red eyes, and black carapace. The large wings folded behind him were a bright yellow-orange. They were poking out from a black duster-coat with what looked to be a Calico Jack skull, with the cutlasses replaced with what looked to be futuristic rifles of some sort. Also upong his back, mounted just below the wings was some sort of blocky, square apparatus that went all the way down to his tailbone. An electrical cabale ran out from it, and connected to some sort of nozzle-like apparatus. Beneath the leather duster he had on a suit of light, polymer combat-armor. With hardened composite plates and a fiber mesh where there were no plates to protect him. Atop his head sat a horizontal bicorne, the Calico Jack was also on this hat, but with what looked to be a skull in the shape of his own, and the weapons replaced with the words "Sic vita est". He didn't quite know where he was, but the group in the distance looked out of the place, and the people around him looked millitary, with guns. They probably didn't take well to space-pirates. He spooled up his proton-wand just in case he needed to use it.

"O-Oh, me? Oh, no, no, no, I have none whatsoever," Avalam quickly answered with a wave of her hand and shake of her head, "I just... Make clothes... I wouldn't say magic is exactly common either. Those who have it tend not to let others know their secrets... It's for the best though, really. I mean, if everyone had magic, it'd be chaos."

The Pokémon thought for a moment before its metallic teeth were bathed in flames as it happily snapped them a few times. "OH goodness," Avalam yelped at the display before internally chastising herself for being so easily frightened so frequently in such a short span of time.

"Maw, maw!" The Pokémon cheered as she clapped her hands.

"Yeah, I can definitely see that." Strange agreed, observing the Pokémon.

Thats all? The Pokémon then repeated its jaw snapping go with the exception that the teeth were now cloaked in sparks, this time expecting more praise.

Avalam took in a shuddering breath before stopping herself from letting out any more shrieks and yelps. Whatever this thing was, she was just going to have to get used to it doing... Whatever it was doing. She turned her attention back to Strange with an uneasy smile.

The female fears me. I am the alpha now. Mawile snickered at this thought.

Walking along on all fours, Alejo would peer over the side of the resort. Checking to see if the coast was clear, and if any rangers were watching the route he was going to take. There was also the wildcard group he had to take into account, but, he didn't see any visible ranged armaments on them.

The Pokémon looked around for a moment before staring off at the resort and asking "Maw?" as it pointed in its direction.

"Wait, did you see something over there?" Strange asked the Mawile as he peered in the direction of the resort, having missed the appearance of Alejo.

Alejo ducked down and moved out of sight after he noticed two of the wild-cards peering in his direction.

The pokemon could only tell there was some sort of settlement, and that was probably the best place to go. She pondered For a moment before reaching for the doctors hand and heading walking towards the settlement.

"Alright, I guess we can investigate it now..." Strange followed the whims of this strange Pokémon, looking back at his other two companions with a nod of the head, gesturing for them to follow.

"Would it not be preferrable to not follow suite in searching for things we are unsure of until we can better ascertain our surroundings?" Dukhul questioned the two, not following them on their investigation.

"Uhmm... That... Might be the best idea... But it looks like the only people who would have answers about where we are are over there anyway," Avalam pointed out as she looked over to the NCR rangers and troopers of Camp Golf.

"Besides, I don't think any of us could stop our little friend here." Strange pointed out, nodding toward the Mawile.

Shit shit shit shit. How am I going to get out of this one? Alejo thought as he looked all around the camp, seeing troopers and rangers posted about.. He might have to both fly and fight his way out of this one.

"...I suppose you are right," Dukhul had to agree with Avalam with a heavy sigh, "We shouldn't let ourselves fall behind then, shall we?"

The shapeshifter gave him a nod and a modest smile in turn. As the group approached the encampment in front of the resort, the sorry state of the morale became apparent. They weren't stopped by anyone nor even greeted. The troopers shuffled about, minding their own business in mediocrity while the more notable rangers in their visibly better armor watched from their stations at the resort itself. The contrast between the two adjacent areas was rather stark. After all, the resort was the regional headquarters for the NCR rangers in the Mojave while the encampment was where underperforming troopers resided until they were shaped up by their drill instructors.

Perhaps the lake was a good bet, it didn't look too heavily guarded, and I could dip to help avoid gunfire if I needed to. Alejo would crawl on the roof towards the balcony overlooking Lake Mead, seeing if there was any significant Ranger presence. While there were sparse patrols on every side of the resort, there were likely more rangers inside the building itself. The clear view from the rangers outside to the lake made an escape that route an unlikely option. His best bet, if he wished to remain unseen, would be to wait until nightfall given how close the sun was to setting.

Mawile looked around the camp for a minute, her current group seemed capable for now, but perhaps there were goods worth aquiring, humans always seemed to have pretty things on them. The pokemon looked around before approaching one of the troopers in the encampment "Maw?"

"Huh- Woah, what the hell?!" The trooper had seemed rather drowsy before yelping in surprise at the pokemon's appearance, going as far as to pull out his handgun and point it down at her before quickly glancing to the group of clashers and shouting, "Is this thing yours?"

"Wile?" The pokemon asked as she placed a finger to her cheek. Mawiles intimdation sharply fell.

"Er, sort of? Well, we just met. I think it likes us, though." Strange responded.

"Well don't let it fucking run around. Some people here would've shot it on sight," The trooper barked, lowering his gun. Of course, he kept it in his grasp just in case the weird-looking abomination tried anything.

"I don't think we can control it like that. You should be careful, then..." Strange commented, half-jokingly.

"That's not my problem," The soldier tersely replied before grumbling to himself as he meandered off, giving Mawile a glance behind himself a few times to make sure it wasn't following him.

"They are certainly not a friendly collection of people, are they?" the tall alien mused as he caught up with Mawile and Strange.

"They're certainly very... Crass," Avalam agreed with a frown.

"I don't think I would be if I had to live here either," Strange said as he looked around the encampment, "what is this camp here for in the first place? Is there some sort of military installation around here?"

Mawile had been quite captivated by the metalic object the man held before attemping to mimic the object's shape with her fingers and pointed them towards Strange. Strange responded by fashioning a small gun out of Eldritch magic, which pointed itself back at Mawile before disappearing.

"If so, it's a... a... Rather sad military," The shapeshifter mumbled as she stifled a more impolite description of Camp Golf, comparing the disgruntled troopers and miserable drill instructors to the proud army of Regat- Or at least what she's seen of it.

Alejo, seeing no clear methods of escape, decided that he would wait upon the roof until sundown. He did so in a more sheltered area, allowing him to peek over the peak of the roof towards the troop's camp. The faint red reflection of his eyes could be seen if one were to squint hard enough.

"Definitely," Strange agreed, "this place is completely miserable compared to the last universe..."

"Oh, were you in the... The... 'Halloween Town' as well?" Avalam inquired, hopeful that her ending up in the Mojave was the result of some otherworldly force and not her drunkenness after all.

"No, it was just another Earth. Except, because the Clash was involved, it was being invaded by several dangerous armies and otherworldly entities." Strange sighed, reflecting on the destructive capabilities of the Clash.

"...Halloween Town? Earth?" Dukhul looked between the two with some confusion as to where they were describing.

"Earth is where I'm from. A world full of other members of the human race. Like the people you see all around this place." Strange explained.

"Muman." Mawile giggled, such foolish creatures, unable to do extreme combat sports.

With a brief flash of blinding purple light, a staff had appeared within the center of the camp. It was a bright purplish-pink, and quite literally radiated power. The ground around the base of the staff was surging with arcane power, tracing perfect circles and geometries into the dirt that emitted some sort of scalding energy. The floating crown of the staff was rotating constantly, only the three points of it were visible, and not the extremely fast motion. The very ground itself rumbled around it as whatever entitiy within was trying its damndest to try and force itself through the enchantments of Aegwynn.

Big flash? Yes, fight, battle, attack!

Mawile immediately dropped whatever it was that she was doing and immediately ran towards the source of light before turning her back to the staff, and let out a roar throught her larger jaws as she looked at the staff. "MAWILE!"

"I WILL NOT BE CONTAINED!" Aluneth roared, his words ringing in the head of everyone near the camp. Mawile would find a large, arcane orb hurtling at it with the goal of punting it far away. Avalam let out a shriek and hid behind Dukhul for safety given his stature.

Strange opened a portal up underneath the Mawile, to draw it back to the group. "There's clearly someone, or something, trapped inside of that artifact. We have to handle this carefully..." he stressed, as he cautiously levitated toward the staff containing Aluneth.

The pokemon was infuriated by being launched but this helpful portal proved useful as she quickly ran and attempted to clamp her jaws, which were emmiting a dark aura around the staff.

The ground around Mawile would buckle and fold, before dropping into a sudden crevasse beneath its feet, meanwhile Strange could see multiple lances of arcane power hurtling towards him. A nearby tent, along with its troopers were flung away from the staff as if it were a child's toy, the troopers landing on the dirt, but weren't hurt aside from the impact.

"How did you even escape that?" Strange sighed as he watched the earth fall apart beneath Mawile, opening a portal and pushing across the creature's body to ensure it was teleported back to safety. Strange then quickly crafted a mandala shield to block the lances. "I don't know who you are in there, but this isn't necessary! I do not want to harm you."

Mawile was very stubborn and attemped to join the fight once more but was was limited to shooting off beams of ice at the staff. "WILE!"

With the addition of the tent to the staff's targets, the rangers over yonder fired upon the artifact from a distance. They had never had to fight a staff before, but they had seen enough to know that somehow this stick was attacking NCR men and women. The troopers affected by the staff's flinging either retreated or fired upon the staff in spite after seeing what the rangers were shooting at.

"I reccomend that we remove ourself from the situation posthaste!" Dukhul looked to Avalam with distress, knowing that neither one of the two were capable of fending off whatever power and attacks the magical staff could throw in their direction. She stuttered out a bit of gibberish that was probably some form of agreement, hastily taking Dukhul's hand and pulling him along in an escape from the immediate vicinity of the battle.

"Hold on to this!" Strange shouted as he cast two energy shields to his allies to protect them from any attacks.

"I WILL NOT BE IMPRISONED NOW, NOR EVER AGAIN." Aluneth wailed, several more of the nearby tents and their contents levitating before being flung at the Rangers at the resort. Several rocks and boulders were also being levitated, moving to the angles of fire, before being flung at the rangers once more. The mawile's ice-beams were met with some form of arcane shield that seemed to grasp the beams, before redirecting them towards the troopers. It seemed Ice wasn't very effective against the staff either. Seeing the chaos caused, Alejo attempted to take this time to flee from the camp and make his escape. Only to be grasped by Aluneth mid-flight, and flung into the resort itself. His body crashing through a window and a layer of drywall.

Strange threw off his cloak, noticing that someone had been thrown through the wall of the resort. The cloak would grasp Alejo and could fly him away from the danger.

Upset that the ice did nothing, the pokemon shot of a stream of flames towards the staff as her jaws we cloaked in flames and angrily chomped them, hoping to be released from her safey thing."MAWILE!" The pokemon screamed, unable to escape for now.

The rangers managed to avoid taking damage from the staff's retaliation, though the troopers afflicted were not so lucky. Given the threat was something completely unknown to the NCR, a retreat into the resort was ordered where they could better fortify against the staff should it then take further action against them. For now, they could let the freakish 'wastelanders' handle the crisis.

Alejo was yelled obscienities as he was dragged away by the cloak, he would attempt to fire his proton-wand at Aluneth, but found it difficult to aim given that his flight was currently controlled by some other being. His wings flared to life as he attempted to resist the cloak's pull. Meanwhile, fire seemed to be a poor method of attack against the arcane as well. The stream of flames was absorbed, and that same heat emitted back towards the Mawile. Some of that heat was also directed at the resort. The bullets that managed to hit such a slim target pinged and dented the metal of the shaft and weakened it further. The arcane energy leaking out from within seemed to glow brighter as the entity within grew closer to escape.

Strange's cape let go of Alejo as he began to fly of his own accord. The cloak folded its tips at the shoulder over one another, as if crossing its arms in disapproval before flying back to its master.

It seemed eventually the Pokémon managed to escape and attempted to crush the staff with flaming jaws.

Aluneth would grasp the Pokemon with its power, and flung it towards the resort with its flaming jaws. Hoping to set the structure ablaze. In addition to a circle beneath it, there were three other circles forming a perfect triangle around Aluneth. They thrummed with its power, and were located where the tents of the camp once stood. Likely explaining why they were tossed about like bags in the wind.

As the cloak reattached itself to Doctor Strange, the sorcerer began flying again. He decided to try and approach the staff to stop it once and for all, casting a spell upon the winds as he flew in to try and weaken them as he conjured a whip with Eldritch magic. The whip glowed with the signature orange color of Eldritch magic, crackling lightly as Strange cast it out toward the staff containing the being. The whip could wrap around the staff to draw it in towards Strange.

Once again, the Pokémon was thrown away and hit wall. The creature got back up before attempting to stand back up. Mawile managed to stumble back to the battle and tried to take a few moments to catch her breath.

Strange would find that his whip acted in a strange way, as it drew closer to Aluneth and attempted to wrap itself around the staff. Once it hit the circle and its airborne miasma, the whip appeared outside of the greater triangle. Colliding with a tent-post that had been flung out by the staff. Seeing the Mawile attempt to get back up and into the fight, Aluneth would hurtle a boulder towards the pokemon. As if to say "Stay down."

Little did the stupid stick know, Steel types were strong against rocks . The creature caught the rock before biting it in half and tossing one half back.

Strange lost control of his flight briefly as his whip was flung from his grasp and away from the fight. He steadied himself, barely preventing another crash into the dirt. "Look, can we just talk about this instead? What do you want? Do you want to get out of that staff?" Strange asked Aluneth.

Aluneth opened a portal infront of the rock, the object being redirected towards the resort itself. Aiming to agitate the people within so they would attempt shooting it again. "YES! AND I WILL NOT LET YOU OR OTHERS INTERFERE!" He boomed.

"Just -- wait a second, I can help you get out of this. If you stop attacking us, I can send you back to your universe." Strange offered.

"YOU CANNOT!" Aluneth roared, not revealing the one weakness that he had. He could not be touched, or grasped or this would all be for naught.

"You don't know what I am capable of doing," Strange retorted, "If you give me a chance, I can try to help you. This isn't hopeless." He stuck out a hand as an offering of peace, giving the being a chance to approach him.

The Pokémon just kinda shouted basically seeming to shout what translated to "Fight me one on one."

"I AM CLOSE TO BREAKING THIS STAFF, AND YOU WILL NOT STOP MY ESCAPE!" Aluneth repeated.

"You don't have to do that," Strange said, "I can let you out, and send you back to your universe. If the Clash brought you here, or if it put you in there, I can send you back. Just tell me what happened to you."

"YOU CANNOT WHILE THE STAFF STILL REMAINS!"

"If I destroy the staff, will you stop attacking us? I can only let you do this if you stop behaving so dangerously. Then, I can help you get back." Strange offered.

"YES!" Aluneth lied. Dropping the warding around the central staff. Allowing him to affect it from a distance, but not physically grasp it.

Strange again cast out the Eldritch whip to the staff, attempting to draw it in from a distance.

Instead of allowing itself to be dragged in close by Strange, the staff resisted. The whip creaking against the staff's weakened shaft as it clung to the ground around it through force.

Strange fought back against the force the staff applied. However, as he did this, an idea suddenly came to him. Strange created many copies of himself which surrounded the staff. Several of these performed the same manuever on the staff to prevent it from escaping, as other copies approached the staff, trying to reach it.

The staff tried its hardest, and arcane energies surged through it as it attempted to prevent its capture, and only allow its destruction. Orbs of pure arcane power were hurtled and flung at the copies, detonating once they drew closer. All the while the entire object creaked from the increased pressure as it pulled itself against the whips. The metal was splintering, ribboning. Revealing an extremely bright purple inside that shone like a miniature sun.

Strange watched as several of his copies vanished upon being hit by the explosions from Aluneth's attack. He found it suspicious that while the being had agreed with him, it was still continuing to struggle against him, and refused to let him actually approach it. The real Strange created a portal in front of a copy as it approached the staff, and opened another in front of the staff, trying get the copy to grasp and retrieve the staff through the portal.

The staff seemed afraid of that action, and almost as soon as the portal had come up, the arcane force within the staff had snapped it shut on the clone. Keeping it from grasping the increasingly splintered hilt. It didn't want to be touched, or grasped, or have any form of physical contact with any entity.

The stick was weak, Mawile attempted to run into for another attack, but was feeling woozy, the flames bit quickly fizzled our as her jaws lost the power she initially intended.

The copy, of course, disintegrated upon having its arm destroyed by the portal closing upon it. However, Strange now realized that the staff did not want to be touched for some reason. He opened a portal in front of himself and in front of the staff, and the remaining copies all repeated this motion. All at once, they flew through the portals quickly, trying to collide with the staff and grasp it.

In attempting to destroy and dissuade all of the clones from grasping ahold of the staff, it failed to notice the Mawile coming in for another attack. Whilist a large amount of clones were able to grasp and hold the staff itself, so was the Mawile. Depending on how much force it used, it would either be another holder of the staff. Or it would finally break apart from its metal-shearing bite. Either way, the staff was dark and quiet upon being held. The arcane powers fizzled away, leaving only lines in the dirt. "Great." The staff spat within Strange's mind, and Mawile's.

The exhaustion of the battle finally hit Mawile, causing her jaws to gently grasp the staff as she lost consiousness.

The real Strange grasped the staff and waved the clones out of existence as he descended back to the ground. Strange's cape detached from its owner and gently removed Mawile from the staff, carrying away the creature to deliver it to the rest of the group.

"Once I am held, my will is shackled to the person who first grasped this prison. I cannot do anything unless you command it, except talk." Aluneth explained.

Meanwhile, around the corner of the main building of Camp Golf, Dukhul was quick to look over the two of them to make sure nothing had harmed either of them. "Are you alright?" he would ask Avalam as he felt himself over to make sure nothing had been touched by Aluneth's magical attacks.

"I-I- Yes, yes, I'm okay. What about you?" The shapeshifter questioned in turn, peeking around to the chaotic scene with worry and a very small amount of suppressed excitement before looking back to Dukhul.

"Yes, I... I appear to be fine," the alien agreed, looking over what little translucent skin was visible on his wrists to make sure nothing was bruised or anything, "Simply a bit shaken... never have I seen such a display of... chaos and disarray."

"Chaos is the perfect word to describe this madness," Avalam agreed with a grimace, pulling from her satchel a small bar of oats and nuts and nibbling on it in the stressful moment.

Dukhul slouched back against the wall behind him, sliding down into taking a seat on the arid ground with a sigh. "It is certainly a... warm welcome to this... Clash, as they call it," he tried to lighten up the situation.

"I arrived in a different world- universe... before this one. From what I saw, it was much calmer in spite of its grim atmosphere..." Avalam muttered, squatting beside Dukhul as she continued to nibble on her granola bar. She looked up at the sun. At least both universes had a sun. She never thought she'd see something so bright, so magnificent that it could light an entire world and cast away the evil of the darkne-

"Ow," She quietly squeaked, looking away from the bright ball of hot gas as she forgot that she wasn't supposed to stare at the sun. She rubbed at her eyes, undoing the minor damage done to them from behind her hands.

The Amuel chuckled at the shapeshifter's curiosity at the sun, "It is a nice view for a short time. My world was the same- though it was two suns. Foreigners said it was one of the most beautiful sunsets they had seen. I couldn't understand them. I saw it every day. It was just a... regular occurance. But it must certainly be special for you, I assume."

"It... It really is," Avalam agreed with a nod as she lowered her hands from her eyes, "I don't believe anyone where I'm from knows what the sun even looks like... Other than stories of it having been very bright... And to think you had two of them! How does that even work?"

"They both set around the same time, though the smaller one sets at different times across the year," Dukhul explained, "The smaller one rotates around the bigger one like our own world."

"It rotates around the..." Avalam mumbled, taking a moment to think. Her eyes squinted in confusion before she looked back up at Dukhul, "Your world... Rotates around your sun?"

"It spins around it, yes," the alien explained, "It goes around in a great circle every year or so. The second sun does just the same, only closer to the first sun."

"But how does that..." Avalam trailed off, taking a few seconds to wrap her head around the concept of orbits before admitting that she couldn't figure it out, "That doesn't make any sense. How does your world go around your sun?"

"...Maybe it would be better to try and visualize it," Dukhul stated as he picked up a small stick from the ground next to him and began to draw a series of circles, first pointing to the largest two, "These are the two suns," he explained, before drawing another circle through the smaller sun, "It travels around the larger star in a circle of sorts. And then, far away from the sun," he moved the stick a foot or so away before drawing a much smaller circle, "Is my homeworld. And it as well," he drew a ring similar to the second sun's through the smaller circle, "Spins about the star. The size of the bigger star keeps them from flying off away from eachother, I believe."

"... Why is your world a circle?" Avalam asked, pointing to the circle Dukhul indicated to be his homeworld before looking up to him, blinking in confusion.

"It's... as all worlds are?" Dukhul assumed aloud, confused as to how Avalam did not know such a thing.

"So your world isn't... Infinite? What happens if you fall off the edge? Is there just a.... A void below your world or what?" The shapeshifter inquired, trying to make sense of the weird (From her perspective) universe the alien hailed from based on her own knowledge.

"Our world is definitely finite, yes," Dukhul nodded, "And around it, on all sides, is what is called... space. Nothing is there, and eventually you will run into something else, be it another world, a moon, a star, or whatever else there is. I'm not entirely knowledgeable on that. But your world is... infinite?"

"Of course. I assumed that was... How worlds are," Avalam answered, "Infinite planes and- What about water on your world? It seems like if there was a river too close to the edge, it would fall off the edge and drain away."

"...There is no edge," Dukhul blinked, "It is a sphere- a massive sphere. So large that its size keeps water from just... falling off."

Avalam was silent for a moment, attempting to comprehend what she had been told before asking, "You live on a giant ball?"

"Yes," Dukhul nodded, "Most people from my... universe, do. And you live on... an infinite flat land?"

"Well there are hills and mountains, so I would not say it's flat," Avalam mused, but quickly returned to the fascinating topic of 'ball worlds', "So what happens if-" She held up her fist, "Say this is your ball world. And someone is on the top here," She pointed to the top of her fist with one finger and trailed it down to the side of her fist, "If someone goes from the top of your world to the side, what keeps them from falling off?"

"Same idea that keeps water from floating away into space, I suppose," Dukhul replied with a shrug, "The weight of the world."

Before Avalam could question Dukhul further, she spotted Strange approaching the both of them with an unconscious Mawile and the staff in his posession. "The staff! Did... Did you kill it?" She asked, quickly questioning herself how one even kills a staff.

The cape laid down the Mawile next to Avalam and Dukhul, and patted it gently before returning to Strange. "I think the being in here is still alive. However, it said that it now has to follow my will unquestioningly. That was why it was so afraid of letting us approach it." Strange explained to Avalam.

"Really? Well, it's... A good thing you're the one wielding it then. You, uh... Obviously know what you're doing when it comes to magic," The shapeshifter said with a nervous nod, still wary of the staff.

So, can you explain how you got into this staff anyways? It would help to know what happened to you. Strange mentally spoke to Aluneth.

"The Blue Dragonflight, or some other mortals found out about me, summoned me in. I destroyed things until they banished me back. Then, later some meddlesome sorcerer figured out how to tap into a fraction of my power like some haemophagic parasite. Then came her, that bitch summoned me into this staff, and here I am. She wanted to use me to fight demons, until she tried to have me strike down a titan. Being reasonable I of course refused, and then I got tossed into a vault for millenia and have only seen blue walls since. Until now of course."

"... Are you okay?" Avalam asked. From her point of view, Strange was just silently looking at the staff for several moments.

"Oh, uh, I forgot you guys were still there for a moment. Just talking to the staff through telepathy... Do they not have that in your universe too?" Strange asked Avalam.

"It's... Not very common," The shapeshifter blinked, in awe of Strange's versatility in magic.

"I've heard of telepaths, yes," Dukhul nodded, "As she said, they're not very common."

Oh, I almost forgot. I suppose we should properly introduce ourselves. You can call me Doctor Strange. Strange said to Aluneth.

Likewise. Aluneth. The staff replied.

Avalam glanced between Strange and the staff during the awkward silence that followed before curiously asking, "... Did it say something?"

"Yeah, his name is Aluneth. Trapped in this staff by some sorcerers trying to use him for power." Strange explained.

"I'd be more sympathetic if it- he didn't try killing us moments ago," Avalam huffed, looking down at the staff with a stern expression. Of course, her brief bout of confidence didn't last as she quickly recalled the power the staff displayed. She cleared her throat and took a single step back just to be safe.

"He said he just didn't want to be touched, since that would force him to follow the orders of whoever touched him. We won't force him to abuse his own powers, though." Strange reassured the shapeshifter.

Or so I am told. Aluneth sarcastically remarked, he didn't believe Strange.

I wouldn't do that. I'm not going to make you angry. You did some real damage back there -- I'm not going to risk you doing anything like that in my universe. If I'm sure you aren't a threat anymore, I can take you out of here and send you back to where you came from. Free of the vaults and imprisonment. Strange responded.

Oh one mortal has already promised me that, before they drained my power to fix a dying titan, and left me to rot in this staff afterwards. Please do make good on your promise, I'd be sad otherwise.

I'll be sure of it. Strange sighed, clearly seeing that Aluneth did not trust him. Of course, he had no reason to, but it would definitely make dealing with such a clearly dangerous being difficult.

It was at that time that one of the rangers of the NCR peered around the corner the group had gone around, her rifle pointed directly at the staff while she quickly glanced between everyone present. "Alright. What the fuck just happened?" She demanded, "None of you look like you belong here at all, a fucking stick shows up and trashes our entire camp, injures our men- We want answers."

"Oh man, you're really not gonna like this -- or believe this," Strange groaned, "Alright, your universe has been forced into some event started by powerful beings -- an event called a Dimensional Clash. Everyone you see right here, including the being in this staff, is not from this universe. In your world, we might even be characters in movies or books, or anything like that. This staff attack is probably just the beginning of your troubles. I've seen this event basically destroy entire civilizations. I'm going to try and stop them from keeping this thing going, though."

The ranger stared Strange down as he spoke, and was silent a moment after before relenting as she lowered her gun, "If I hadn't seen all of that shit with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed a single word you just said... We would appreciate it if all of you could come inside and answer a few questions... That is... If that stick isn't going to try and kill anyone again." While she had been ordered to bring the group in with a bit more force, she knew that she wouldn't be able to do a thing to Strange after what she had seen of him. All she could do was make the request of him.

"Don't worry, he has to cooperate now. Avalam, Dukhul, let's go see what these guys want from us." Strange motioned for his allies to follow him. The cape detached itself again and scooped up the unconscious Pokemon so it could stay asleep while the others conducted their business with the NCR members.

Dukhul nodded in compliance, standing up to his full height and following the magician, "I would like that. It is a bit hot out here in the sun." Avalam simply nodded in assent as she followed as well.
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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by AestheticMonkey on Thu Jan 02, 2020 4:29 am

Collab between H, Aeth and Zandiddle

McCarran Airport

Moth-Eater and Kanen were near the entrance of the airport, having just walked in front of the El-Ray Motel. He would set a hand on the younger soldier's shoulder. "Alright, this is as far as I'm going 'til you give me the all clear. Don't worry, I'm covering you just in case."

Kanen looked to Moth-Eater with a nod. "Just keep your eyes pried," he stated as he looked between him and the McCarran gate guards, before beginning to walk towards the airport's gate, "They are too finicky to just be having a normal day."

"Ey no problem, they start getting too pushy, you just look at me and give me a signal." He'd comment, walking behind the Motel to find some cover and a better firing angle.

Kanen gulped down any worries as he approached the gate, partially open, but blocked by a both the two soldiers and a large man in suit and tie.

"...Won’t be a problem, now will it?" Armstrong asked the two guards about his request, his hands still clenched lightly on their shoulders to show a measured response to if he were denied what he wanted.

"Y-Yeah, just- Head inside and go into the office on the left- Colonel Hsu is usually in there," The trooper gulped and stuttered out, shaken by the sudden chaotic appearance of the ziggurat and the imposing figure that loomed over him. It was all enough for nobody to really notice the approach of Kanen.

As the US senator released his grip and strode into the camp with a calm demeanor in the face of the temple, Kanen took his chance to walk forwards again. He would take care to not move too quickly- he knew nervous soldiers were trigger happy for even the littlest things. He waited a few moments after Armstrong had gone further into the camp, following the directions given, before he would speak up, "Hello, sir! You... don't appear to be having a good day, so I'll try not to make it any worse for you. My friend and I were looking to seek out a temporary refuge, and the savages out here do not seem to be the most welcoming."

"What? Oh- Uh- Yeah, yeah we're next to Fiend territory. This isn't a refugee camp though. New Vegas is right there. Other than a mugger or two in Freeside, you should be fine there," The trooper pointed over to the large walls surrounding the city in question after getting his bearings with the new arrival.

"I see... my friend took note that you all look... tense about something. Is there an issue inside your camp?" Kanen asked, taking a second to look past the guard, unsure if anything was out of place in this odd world.

"Well- Yeah," The trooper stepped aside and gestured to the ziggurat, as if it should be very obvious that everything was in chaos, "That thing just showed up out of nowhere! I wish I knew if everyone was alright, but Fiends would take advantage of us leaving our post here in an instant... Look, if you and your friend want to come in, fine. Just don't expect to be sleeping here or anything overnight."

"And you are sure my friend will not be attacked? He is... how do you put it... a mutant? No, that's too harsh..." Kanen hummed as he thought of how to explain Moth-Eater's condition.

"Hey, don't worry about it. Just keep him close, tell him not to wave any guns around, and he should be fine. The NCR's got laws protecting mutants- Just, uh... If you go anywhere smaller than here, like an outpost or run into a patrol..." The trooper seemed a bit uncomfortable to admit the truth, "Try and keep him out of sight. There's a few guys here and there that 'forget' those laws exist. MCCarran's big enough though that any assholes like that wouldn't be able to get away with it."

With that, Kanen would assess what he had been told, before turning back and waving over to the general direction of the El Rey Motel, knowing his basilisk friend would be watching every move.

Indeed he was, and though he couldn't tell what exactly had been said he knew that there was mutual respect between the Trooper and Kanen. He eased up a little bit, shouldering his rifle as he stepped outside of a motel door. His eyes locking onto Kanen the moment he exited. "How'd it go?! They going to cap my ass if I get too close?!" He would yell out to the man.

"You can come in just fine! Just don't go throwing about your gun and stay by me!" Kanen shouted back.

"Fair enough, I keep my pieces close by anyways." He muttered, walking down the rickety 200 year old stairs to stand beside Kanen. Aside from his face, there was little that told him apart from a regular human at any distance. His glassy eyes seemed to bore into the trooper's own.

"... Oh... You know, when you said mutant, I pictured him being a lot taller," The trooper remarked in surprise, having expected a super mutant to stroll into Camp McCarran, "Just, uh... I guess if you're hungry, head inside, go up the stairs, go through the doors in the back to a big room. You should be able to find Farber there. Don't expect Ultra-Luxe steaks or anything though."

"I don't know what an ultra-luxe is, but it sounds like they have nice steaks. I'll keep it in mind." He remarked in a calm baritone voice, albeit their was a slight clicking to it that made him sound and feel even more insectoid. "Beans in mud-sauce is what you have I'm guessing?"

"Pretty much, honestly. Farber says he can't get any supply of meat or spices, so all we have are plain vegetables. Apparently the food processor broke down at some point too," The trooper answered with a sigh and shake of his head.

"Shit, been there myself. You ain't lived til' you're wringing moss for water and scraping ants off trees." He would answer back. "I could take a look at your processor, I'm not a mechanic but I know how to fix some shit on the fly."

"Slop's better than nothing," Kanen nodded, "We thank you for the hospitality. You say that... thing just showed up? Out of nowhere?" He pointed back to the source of the commotion.

"Well, I've been looking the other way most of the day, but considering a few of our tents are toppled over and there's stuff scattered all around it and... Yeah, it just appeared out of nowhere," The trooper sighed, "This is just what we need right now. Fiends screwing with us, the Legion raiding from across the river, and now whatever the hell that thing is showing up in our HQ."

"Wish I could say it's the strangest thing I've seen. That title belongs to witnessing a second-gen soldier have a boxing match with a fucking tank. I'll tell you about it later if you want." Moth-Eater commented to Kanen, and perhaps the Trooper if he wanted to hear about it too.

"Maybe when we have some food in our stomachs first," Kanen laughed, though now somewhat uneased by the presence of the ziggurat now that he knew it was much more recent than its appearance let on.

"Looks like it's been lifted from the cover of some metal album, looks wicked if you ask me. Mesopotamian power-metal." Moth-Eater commented.

"...It's ominous," Kanen disagreed, "Something's not right with it at all... Anyways, let's go get something to eat."

"And here's... What the hell?" Came a voice from behind the trooper as soon as Kanen and Moth-Eater left.

"Oh come on it's one after the other with you people!" The trooper groaned out in frustration, turning around before yelping at the sight of the ranger and Minnie who accompanied him. "O-Oh my god, I'm sorry. I- We've just been getting a lot of people and then-"

"What the hell is that thing?" The ranger questioned, pointing at the ziggurat.

"We... Don't know yet... What is- Er- Who is that?" The trooper asked, pointing to Minnie and adding a small, "Sorry," for calling her a what.

"Minnie. I'm Minnie." She added curtly, her eyes squinted behind tinted sunglasses.

"And Minnie here is joining the Republic. She hopes to become a ranger," He further introduced, "I'm gonna help her get her papers sorted and get her enlisted. Come on, Minnie." With that, he let the trooper be as he lead Minnie into the airport-turned-military-base. Minnie would follow the Ranger into the airport, glancing around the place with interest. She was particularly fixated on the monorail, the Ultra-Luxe, the Lucky 38 and other buildings. Mostly in awe at the scale of them. "I take it we're going inside that big building there?"

The trooper would watch them for a moment before quickly turning around, fully expecting someone else to be behind him, and let out a sigh of relief upon seeing nobody there.

The ground shook like it had when the ziggurat appeared, but nowhere near as intense. A plume of dust rose from the entrance to the ancient temple, indicating it was most likely still settling into position. But with how peculiar the appearance of the ziggurat itself was, and the fact that its depths remain to be explored, could lead to one easily believing that it could be something more than just settling rocks and asphalt.

----

Moth-eater was sat at a table within the mess-hall, in a booth near one of the concourse walls. He had seemingly pulled his hood out further to obscure his face more, and keep the light from within the facility from touching his face.

"Not a fan of the lighting in here?" Kanen asked as he sat down opposite the basilisk, handing him a tray of whatever the mess-hall's limited supplies had to offer, including canned pork and beans, as well as some local crops. "Sorry about the poor selection here," Kanen assured as he pushed the tray to Moth-Eater, "He certainly was limited, like the guy at the door said."

"No, too bright. Too many people too." He grumbled, scanning around the room with his hidden eyes and slowly sliding the tray towards him after settling it down on the table. "Thank you by the way."

"Oh, come now," Kanen hummed as he prodded the centuries-old canned food on his tray with a spoon to determine whether or not it was edible, "You don't want to get food on your mask, do you? It'd be a shame."

"I'll be fine, you don't want to see under it, and noone else around here will either." He stated, the bandanna loosening suddenly following some movement from within his coat. This allowed him to spoon and for the meal up to his mouth, behind the bandanna without disturbing it harshly or revealing his mouth.

"It can't be that bad," Kanen figured aloud, "You don't seem that different of a person than any regular human anyways, so it cannot be too terrible, whatever you're hiding underneath there. And besides, whatever it is, I can tell you that sitting beside an Abrol eating is worse."

"Kid, I signed up for a war and got modified into a bugman. I'm crossed with spiders, you really don't." He retorted, warning Kanen.

"Fair enough," Kanen held his hands up some, "I won't prod any further. Your privacy about it is yours."

"Thank you, I don't like being seen." He clarified. "Was hunted like a fugitive, no, like game for years. I've forgotten how long, haven't kept track. Time is sort of... meaningless when you don't have anyone or anything to care about anymore."

"Well, it looks like you can have a reprieve from that, at the very least," the younger man noted as he took his first bite of the pork and beans, "Does not appear anyone from your world is hunting you here."

"Could be watching us right now." He grumbled, casting his eyes up to the cieling. His vigil slipped for a brief moment, allowing Kanen to see what looked to be pedipalps, and another hand quickly adjusting the bandanna back to cover them. He'd turn back to Kanen. "Didn't see anyone."

"...You are right. There is nobody on the ceiling," Kanen amusedly replied as he took a moment to look up to the ceiling as well, "But is there someone on the floor? Or underneath it? Ah, I joke, but you do have your reasons to be looking about. But what good do these bounty hunters- I assume that is what they are- have by hunting you down like some rabid animal? Just money, or?"

"Ten million keys per dead basilisk soldier." He replied morbidly.

"That's... a lot..." Kanen blinked, "Whoever put out the bounty must really want your kind dead."

"Yeah, they want us dead for a reason. Most of us are hidin' out in the frontier, there's no hub there. Just corporate sponsors and independant contractors. There's the marshalls and sheriffs, but they don't do anything beyond prevent corporate warfare and hunt fugitives. The Frontier was rooting for us bug-men, noone outside of hub really likes Hub."

"And why is that? If you don't mind me asking," Kanen inquired, curious as to why there would even be the need for rebellion in the first place.

"Hub taxes, ultimately. Deprived alot of people their income, and we never saw a dime back out in the Basilisk Nebulae. It also pissed off the rich heads there, they didn't like having all their hard-earned profit from establishing a colony-cluster taken by Hub. It just boiled over eventually, the mob supported the people who could provide the money and resources to fight."

"That's fair enough. I'm... I'm assuming the war did not favor your side, with the bounties on your heads now," Kanen winced.

"They glassed Bode's World." He deadpanned. "Capital, gone, magma, ash and boiled water. Not sure what happened to the other worlds, don't want to know really."

"That's... that's a shame," Kanen sighed, "They didn't show you any leniency, did they?"

"Captured? Executed and burnt. Nope, we fled. There's alot of us that escape, Hub and CIG-9 can hunt and threaten, but they have to use human and robots that don't much like killing innocent people. Alot of people, and alot of soldiers got out."

"Damn..." Kanen's expression went somewhat blank, unsure what to divert the conversation to after that.

Eastern Pump Station

All was quiet in the area surronding the old, run-down pump station that was largely ignored by the Mojave. That was until a massive figure in a black trenchcoat forced the locked door to the station open. With a might bang ringing out in the still desert air as the door swung into the brick and rattled on its hinges. Mr X would step outside, scanning the desert and quickly ascertaining that this was not his mission area. He would then begin to walk towards the Sharecropper Farms, quickly coming into view of the farmers there.

One of the NCR soldiers patrolling about the perimeter of the farms would take notice of the incoming goliath of a man, and quickly take aim, assuming the Tyrant to be some kind of super mutant, like a very pale nightkin. He fired off his cowboy repeater to little effect, having a poor aim at the mutant.

Mr X continued to advance heedless of the shots that were coming at him. Even when one of the bullets landed on his shouder, the tyrant-unit paid little mind and continued to stroll forwards without missing a step. He would stop just infront of the soldier, before asking in a deep monotone voice. "Where am I currently located geographically?"

"Y- Wha?" The trooper stopped, lowering his rifle some as he contorted his face in confusion in the tall man's calm demeanor. He wasn't sure whether the mutant was joking or not, but would not hesitate for too long, lest it lose its temper like most irradiated monsters. "Er' uh... Just outside of New Vegas... Nevada."

"Thank you for the information. Do you know where the Umbrella Corporation branch office is located within Las Vegas?" The "super-mutant" replied back.

"Umbrella? I've... never heard of it," the trooper answered with a shake of his head.

"Would you happen to know the location of anyone who could point me in the direction of the branch office? Or a source for a map?" The tyrant unit replied once more.

"No, I... just told you I've never even heard of it," the hapless trooper said back, "I'm sure someone at McCarran could help, though. They're more invested in pre-war stuff, or at least their research division is."

"Thank you for the directions." Mr X gave a short, curteous bow before continuing to walk southwards, respecting the fence boundary as he made a right turn and began to head towards Camp McCarran.

But as the tyrant began to walk towards McCarran, out from behind a boarded-up house leapt a Fiend, firing a laser rifle towards Mr. X. The beam of red light would surge directly towards the giant, but would strangely slow to a halt. Upon further inspection, it would appear that the entirety of time had come to a halt.

"...Out of place, I see...?" A croaking, off voice would speak from seemingly nowhere, as slowly, a tall man in a suit would begin to fade into existence, carrying a briefcase at his side. He would sigh, taking a moment to look Mr. X over, "That is the way of things here..." The location around the two began to warp and shift, the tangible land fading into the strange void, "Even if I have not seen it first hand, I take it your work ethic is... impeccable. And from your last work," a view of the ruined streets of Raccoon City flashes slowly by through space, "You are definitely worth my time. I have reccommended your services to my... e-employers, and they agree that you have... potential."

The two were suddenly transported in a flash to another place- a small room, holding only a wooden door. "So I offer thisss- if you are interested, just step through the door and I will take that as a yes-"

"Where is your Umbrella Corporation Identification Card?" Mr X questioned, he was programmed from creation to only obey the direct orders of Umbrella employees. Particularly those of high enough standing to even order a Tyrant mission.

"Ahhh, where are my mannersss?" the G-Man croaked, removing from his pocket an identification card of a high enough clearance, "Now, I offer you again- step through the door, and take the opportunity, or-"

Without even bothering to listen to the rest of G-man's speech, Mr. X was already pushing through the door.

"...A wise decision," the words of the G-Man faded into the air as Mr. X pushed through, walking into blinding light in comparison to the dimly lit room, before finding himself standing in the McCarran monorail in such a way that there would be no concievable door behind him. The Monorail was slowly coming to a stop at the station within the Strip, a drunken trooper looking up to Mr. X with a bewildered shout.

"Hey! When did you get on?" he chuckled.

Mr. X looked around him bewildered, gathering his bearings about his sudden new location. How had- it didn't matter, what mattered was the mission that Umbrella corporation had given him. "Just now." He clarified to the drunken trooper.

As the doors to the Strip opened, the drunken trooper looked to Mr. X with simply a continued confused expression. "...Huh," he stumbled to his feet and walked towards the exit, "Well get off just now too!"

Mr X would follow shortly after the inebrated soldier, and step off the monorail with an audible thud as his heavy boots impacted the old tile of the monorail station. After a brief moment of looking, he would march towards the exit stairs to enter the strip proper. Hopefully none of the Strip MPs or securitrons would harass him given recent events involving a strange, squat clown.



Outside Camp Golf

Alejo touched down after fleeing from the freakshow that had suddenly erupted within the Camp, and witnessed a staff somehow level a military camp and destroy a face of the resort. Not only that, but some weird cloak flew on its own accord and tried to drag him away. He was breathing heavily, and shaking his head. He'd move a hand to spool down his proton-wand, the familiar hum of the microfusion reactor on his back fading away. He'd make his way to the city by flight before too long, but first he needed to rest. Being flung about had caused him to land on his wings, bruising them quite severely. Hopefully he'd remain unmolested while walking to Vegas.

However, commotion ahead of Alejo would prove to shed doubt on his hopes. Upon a short walk and closer investigation, the basilisk commander would find a strange scene. Several cazadors were fluttering about, their fiery-orange wings fluttering incoherently about as they darted around what appeared to be a strange humanoid figure in a grey-and-red cloak. The being's face was a stark white, with two fins protruding from either side of their mechanical head. He stared at the quickly incoming mutated wasps with a scowl visible in his livid yellow eyes. Within moments, the first cazador took its shot, attempting to sting the cyborg, but to no avail, hitting the air where he had just been as the machine ducked out of the way in the blink of an eye.

Grievous surveyed the three insects, letting out a hollow growl as he flipped back his cloak, revealing several empty hilts of what looked to be some kind of weapon. Taking one in each of his two hands, he pressed buttons on the handles, igniting each of the lightsabers with a flash and a hum, one green and the other blue in their bright hues.

Again, the first cazador lunged forwards, but would not be given the same chance as before, with Grievous pouncing forwards, slashing first at the stinger of the wasp, and then through its head, effortlessly cutting through flesh and chitin and downing the first of his enemies. The talons on his metallic feet helped him skid to a halt before his momentum carried him any further, letting the beheaded bug fall to the ground behind him before he would leap towards the other advancing insects, his sabers thrumming with power as they connected with the second insect's torso, and then the third's wings in quick succession, quickly downing the hyperactive tarantula hawks that had been assailing him. He deactivated the sabers, setting them back onto his belt of prized collections with a heavng cough. It appeared he had not noticed Alejo quite yet, or if he had, he simply did not care.

Given that some four-armed cyborg weilding what looked to be lightsabers or some other form of energy weapons, Alejo was content on giving this individual a wide berth and just continue on his merry way. He would spool up the proton wand, and attempt to shimmy out of the way and sight of Grievous before he decided he looked similar enough to the tarantula-hawks to attack. Speaking of which, why the hell were they so large? How could they even live if they didn't have lungs at that size. Just how much oxygen was on this dirtball? How come everything wasn't on fire then? These were troubling questions. He didn't need to upset the walking blender and have even more problems.

However, fate would see to it that the 'walking blender' would divert his gaze, hawklike in nature, towards Alejo, furrowing his view at the far off insectoid. While he was unsure of the species of the man before him, he assumed he was one of the Geonosians- a race that had been in the good graces of the Confederacy. "Come here!" the cyborg demanded in a raspy voice, gesturing a hand to Alejo to come closer.

"Uh-uh. I'm keeping my distance." He'd spool the proton-wand, the threatening hum of the weapon pointing at Grievous. "I've dealt with enough shit today, don't need to deal with a walking blender that speaks English."

"...Wait... You are not a Geonosian..." the Kaleesh cyborg realized as he looked away for a moment, contemplating what to do. His prevous experience in the last clash was somewhat demeaning- being forced to retreat in a fight against a man with a sword- and he still bore some marks that man was able to land. He was unfit to attempt to try what he had in the last world, and realized he needed to think somewhat smaller.

"No, I'm a basilisk soldier. Do you think this is some Star Wars shit? Who the f- What th- who ar- I should kick your fucking ass!" Alejo exclaimed, exasperated at being called such a specific thing from such a long-distant and overmilked franchise from 20th century terran history.

General Grievous let out a growl as he turned back about at the thought of attacking him, snatching up two lightsabers and igniting them without a second thought. "You would not win," he declared assuredly, "I have killed countless Jedi. A simple bug would be nothing."

"You probably could kick my ass too, but I'm more interested in walking away. Besides, I trust my particle beam is better than some energy-swords." Alejo continued to back away from Grievous. The cyborg looked vaugely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his tongue on the matter.

The cyborg eyed the basilisk over once, thinking of how to continue. After a moment of hesitation, Grievous would put his sabers away again, looking back towards New Vegas, "No matter. You would not be worth the time. I have other matters to attend to as well." As he spoke, he would begin walking in the direction of Vegas, snatching up his cloak as he walked.

"Well... this is certainly awkward." Alejo commented as he too was walking towards Vegas, keeping a good respectable distance from himself and Grievous. "Figure I owe you a little bit of advice. You stick out, badly, white paint-job isn't doing you any favors either. Avoid any of the millitary folks wearing brown with an 'NCR' logo on them. Some shit went down behind you, and they're probably on high alert for anyone who isn't normal. You look pretty durable, but enough bullets would do you in I imagine."

"Bullets?" Grievous glanced back at Alejo and chortled out a laugh that devolved into coughing as he continued to walk, "These primitives still use bullets? If I can handle an entire platoon of clones and their blasterfire, I can handle men with ballistics-based weapons."

"Yeah that's what the shock-strains thought, and then they get blasted apart anyhow. Never doubt the capability of quantity of fire. I highly doubt those swords of yours can vaporize an entire round in a fraction of a second, and it'd only take a lucky shot to your peepers to do the deed." Alejo voiced his doubts, his voice sounding quite glum at the mention of the shock-strains.

Outside of Nelson

Alongside the cliffsides of the Grand Canyon, the massive blueish form of an abnormally large troll had appeared, the blades of several swords stuck into his back and through the ragged cloth that decorated his back. Throgg looked about, his advanced-yet-primitive mind trying to ascertain where he was. Moments earlier, he was marching against Kislev with his army. Now, he was in the middle of an arid wasteland. He turned and looked about with a huffing growl, mouth constantly agape somewhat as he could not close his jaws.

While he was mainly looking for a way back to the Troll Country and amass his forces once again, the march against the northern reaches of the Empire had left the troll-king... hungry. It was a hunger that all trolls felt at times, and Throgg knew what could easily sate it. The only problem would be to find it. Upon a simple surveyal of the area, he would notice the nearby town of Nelson. While a more observant individual from the Old World would have questioned the strange architecture of the buildings below, or the scrappily-made fortifications at positions about the town, a troll would only take note of the fact that it was a town, and towns usually kept people. Tasty, tasty people. With that conclusion made, he took up his massive hammer and began to stomp his way towards Nelson, salivating as he snorted the air to hunt for his selected quarry. Indeed, while he did smell humans- plenty of them- Throgg also caught the scent of something... different. It was no animal he had smelled before, though it was similar to the scent of the faint few times he caught wind of Lizardmen. He had never tasted a lizardman before, though, and considered an exotic Lustrian delicacy. The Troll-king would turn his attention away from Nelson for the time being- for Throgg was ready to try new flesh.

Goris was wandering on one of his scholarly trips in the wasteland when a bright flash of light heralded his sudden change in environment. Whereas before he was exploring the northwest, meeting its people and see how they survived amongst the recovered wildlife of the region. Now he was in a desert of some kind? He almost thought it was California for a moment until he happened to spy the Lucky 38. How or why was he here now all of a sudden? This whole place was a hotbed of conflict he had heard, and likely no place for his kind. He would either be shot at, or pressured into helping out someone else's will. Alot of humans would love to have a sapient deathclaw they could sic upon  their enemies. However, he could study the people in this region before he left. Goris furrowed his brow in thought before deciding he would stay for a bit, if only to learn and write down what he had learnt.

There was something off however, a foul stench wafted across his sensitive reptilian snout and the mutated deathclaw was soon on high-alert as he began to make his way west. He pulled his cloak tighter, if only to keep it from fluttering away given his increased speed. He did not have good eyesight, but he could smell and hear something large moving about and he had little desire to observe it from such a close distance.

Quickly, the heavy thuds of continuous footfalls would become ever more clear in the sentient Deathclaw's periphery, alongside the putrid stench of a natural odor and decay that only a troll could provide in such enormous quantities of each. Throgg had caugt sight of his next planned meal- the 'lizardman'- though was somewhat confused as to why the saurian or kroxigor (or an abnormally large skink, though Throgg would not mind, regardless of the race) had covered itself in such a concealing and generally unfitting piece of raggedy cloth. What he knew of Lizardmen was of golden flair and jewelry rivaled only by the High Elves. But even if the being did not match his own thoughts on the lizardmen, he would not contemplate his decisions any further, huffing and panting as his pursuit broke into a slow run after the mutant, gnashing his sharp teeth together before letting out a mixture of growl and roar.

Goris was smaller and lighter than Throgg, and had the advantage of being ambidextrous when it came to his stance. Upon hearing the louder footfalls and the gnashing wails of the hungry troll. Goris broke out into a four-legged canter that already put him ahead of the troll by quite a large margin. For all Goris knew this was some strange super-mutant with a horrible case of vat-skin, he didn't have time to put on his spectacles and actually see Throgg clearly.

While the troll-king would continue to chase after the reptilian, the sudden burst into all fours enraged him. What he had thought would have been a much easier and swift attack would prove to take much more time than he anticipated, and the grumbling of his stomach would not approve. So, Throgg thought for but a moment and fought back against his stomach's unending whining, trying to think of an on-the-move solution. After a moment further into the pursuit, the troll's eyes widened, before his mouth flared open, letting loose a vile-smelling stream of sickly green stomach fluids hurtling in the direction of Goris. Many men and beasts had succumb to such potent materials before at the jaws of Throgg, and he hoped to see such a fate come again.

Instinct overruled Goris's though processes upon smelling a vile, acrid stench that burned the nose and the deathclaw quickly rolled to the side. He managed to avoid the majority of the acid, the splatter did reach him but it was not enough to do more than fizzle uselessly upon his scales. The act had torn aside the cloak that he wore, revealing the majority of the deathclaw save for his torso. The cloak had been impaled upon a bony and spiny back. Given that he wasn't being chased, Goris pulled out his spectacles to observe Throgg in full. He wished he hadn't. How had such a foul creature come to pass? "That is... festering ugliness even for my kind." He mused.

"I care not to talk!" Throgg declared with a growl, a dribble of stomach acid and slobber spraying from his shout as he stormed forwards, raising his massive hammer over his head before beginning to pull it back towards Goris's location, hoping to bring it down on the sentient deathclaw's back and crush its torso with one heavy blow, snarling as he did so, "I care to eat!"

Goris stared up at the swing of Throgg, before rolling away at the last second. His claws would unsheathe with an audible thwck. "I mean you no harm beast, but I will not hesitate if you push the issue." Goris wasn't planning on fighting, but this brute would pose a great threat to everyone. Not just him. If the worst came to worse, he could just outrun the fat thing and its stumpy little legs.

Throgg'a hammer slammed into the rock where Goris had been with a earthshaking thud, forcing the troll to take a moment to heave it back up. "Push I will!" Throgg grunted as he pulled up his hammer again, before swinging it sideways towards the deathclaw, "I will push until my hunger is gone!"

Goris was less successful in dodging this blow, the impact struck on his rounded back, just behind the shoulders. It was heavily jarring, and the deathclaw stumbled before swiping at Throgg's arm with his armor-rending claws. Aiming to sever it, or cut the muscle in twain. "Living like an animal is hardly admirable."

The deathclaw's rending claws were easily able to connect with their desired target. However, the expected damage was far from reality, as dense scutes and muscle kept the claws from cutting too deep into the Troll'a arm, though blood did begin to quickly flow out. Throgg looked to his arm with a slight wince and another groan of annoyance, before looking back to Goris, thrusting the head of his hammer towards the mutant's chest in a forwards manner, "One must be if they are king of monsters!"

A blunt weapon made for a poor thrusting tool, even when it was backed by Throgg's bulk. Goris ducked to the side, the hammer catching his right arm and eliciting a swear from the meaty whack that ensured. Nothing was broken, save for a claw-tip beig blunted. The deathclaw would then stop for a brief moment, digging his claws into the dirt and sand before catapaulting two massive handfuls towards Throgg's eyes. His claws ripped up far more grime than his hands could do alone.

Throgg was unprepared for such dirty tactics, a flurry of dust blinding the troll-king and forcing him to step back to wipe his eyes with a shout, "Bagh! Lizardmen and their cheapest fighting!"

The 'lizardman' would take advantage of Throgg's weakness and his own speed by rushing towards the troll-king. Trailing his claw in the dirt behind him, he would fling another handful towards his face while manuvering around to his backside. Aiming a meaty bite at Throgg's heels. If it did connect, he would clamp down and then roll to the side. Aiming to rip it apart like those alligators he had read about on the vault's computers.

Throgg let out a roar of pain as the deathclaw's teeth sunk into the skin and muscle of his heel, unable to see Goris still as he stumbled backwards due to the bite and more dust in his eyes. He would attempt to shake his leg, hoping to dislodge the Deathclaw from his heel, before he would slam his hammer down where he assumed Goris's body to be. If he were busy biting into his heel, Throgg thought, he would not be quick enough to run this time.

The blow would connect with Goris, however given that his jaws were still lodged firmly around the back of his heel. This sudden burst of momentumn was enough to carry Goris away, along with whatever his jaws were clamped around. Which was Throgg's achilies tendon and a chunk of his right calf. Goris skidded along the desert floor, spitting out the chunk of troll-flesh as he grunted in pain. He felt sore all over, perhaps he had a broken rib or two. He couldn't tell from the body-wide throbbing.

A swelling pain fell over Throgg as he found it difficult to place much weight on his now-mangled leg, forcing another growl out of the troll. "Gonna gnaw you up good for that," he growled as he adjusted himself to put his weight on the other leg, dragging his hammer behind him as he limped towards Goris, "Tear you apart with me teeth, limb by limb. Make sure you're breathing the whole time 'till I bite your head off."

"The way I see it-" Goris let our a pained grunt as he forced himself onto all fours. He couldn't put all of his weight on his ankle. He'd probably sprained it, given that it could support his weight, but felt like pure agony to do so. "You're dead from infection, blood-loss, or being a big, slow target. I hope they're not too quick in making you look like a bee-hive. I did my job here." He grunted, lightly cantering away from Throgg and towards the 188 Trading Post from their position by the canyon.

"...Trolls can handle," Throgg decidedly groaned back, before finding himself unable to support his weight. Blood loss was getting the better of the troll, much to his chagrin, and it would force him to stumble backwards, falling back onto the cliff side. The weight of a massive troll coming down on millenia-old weathered stone, however, would not hold, as the ground beneath Throgg gave way, causing him and a good amount of rock to descend into the canyon, a heavy splash echoing out moments later from the Colorado below.

Goris looked to the broken cliffside that once held Throgg, and merely shrugged. Gravity was a cruel mistress, as he himself had learned. "Hitting water from a high height is like meeting concrete right? The colorado is flowing though, maybe he lived?" Goris figured either his injuries would claim him, or the river itself would swallow him and carry its fetid passenger's corpse elsewhere. Either way, it was no longer his problem. For now, he had to contend with the fact that he may now have several broken ribs along with a temporarily lame leg. How the hell was a Deathclaw such as himself going to get medical treatment? The milk of human kindness might convince them to hand-over a Stimpack or couple to help some poor 'traveller' hiding in the dark. Or intimidation, intimidation usually worked.

Jacobstown

Harvey would look around the snow-covered slope of Charleston with some confusion, emerging from his torporous sleep with difficulty. "Huh-wha? Why is there snow, the fuck did I do last night?" He grumbled, sitting up and look down into the valley of the mountain. It was then that he was alerted to the sound of a snorting, angry bighorner that was about to charge him. Harvey felt his heart sink as he attempted to scramble out of the way in time. Failing to do so, he would rear and cock his arm back for a punch, meeting the charging animal head on. His punch echoed through the mountainside, and the bighorner fell over dazed after its charge. It had successfully punted Harvey down the mountain however, the large basilisk soldier tumbling his way down the mountainside. Screaming and yelling profanities as he bulldozed obstacles in the way of his armored bulk. He would fall all the way down until he crashed through the perimeter fence of Jacobstown, thudding to a stop when he impacted the side of the stone sign-base. The impact sounded out through the whole town, like a loud knock against wood.

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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by Infested on Thu Jan 16, 2020 3:50 pm

Jacobstown

The Doom Slayer barely had time to react to the sudden and unexpected entrance of the skeletal form of Sif before he had already made his escape. He would watch in surprise as the skeleton shambled his way back into the ceiling, before averting his attention back to crying Elizabeth. He felt horrible that her efforts to make something edible from the scant few ingredients had just been wasted by centuries-old drywall and dust, and that he had no chance to even try her stew before it was ruined.

"Elizabeth, it's alright," Bob assured as he set the spoon aside, its contents thuroughly dirtied and strewn across the floor, and knelt over, "I can help you make some more, if you want. If you need me to go get more ingredients, I'd be more than willing to. Shouldn't be too hard to find some stuff to shove into a stew, right?" he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood oncemore.

Gibson Scrap Yard

Amid the lesser-used scrap of the electronics dump, in the furthest back corner, there was an odd figure looming about. Mucking about in the metal debris with annoyance, the avian humanoid tossed several chunks of steel away with a growl. "Graah! skekTek can find nothing here!"

After a few moments more, however, the Skeksi was able to scavenge some useful pieces of garbage- or at least, things he could tell were useful. "By the name of Thra!" the scientist hissed as he examined the intricacies of a small vacuum cleaner, "Who would leave such a machine so intricate to sit and grow rusty?!"

By the end of his scrap-search, SkekTek was able to find a plethora of items, such as several fission batteries (the mechanisms behind their functions were being examined by him), a pair of conductors, a leaf blower, some steam guage assemblies, and the aforementioned vacuum. Those items, along with a collection of scrap metal and electronics, were shoved into a large makeshift sack that the alien scientist slipped onto his arched back, held by a few straps around his prominent arms. His mechanical eye swivelled about, looking over to the exit of the scrap yard with a scowl forming over his beak. "Hgh! I must find a way back to the Tower... SkekSo will have my other eye if I am found missing!" he growled to himself. He would go through any hardship to avoid having that fate again. stomped towards the gate, his sack jostling loudly as he walked.

However, his exit from the scrap yard was halted by the sound of a distressed machine. He looked to the entrance, where he saw a selection of beings. An old woman, several small canines at her side, watched a machine flail about, now seeming to have fallen onto its front. It cried about mechanical nonsense and... mugs? Whatever the mad-device was rambling about mattered not to SkekTek. He furrowed his biological eye as his prosthetic narrowed its view towards Muggy and his troubles, before the skeksi finally came to a conclusion about how to approach the situation.

"What is the meaning of this debauchery?!" he declared loudly as he approached, shooting a look towards what he assumed to be an abnormally large- and abnormally ugly- gelfling and snapped, "Is this your marvel of engineering, Gelfling? And if so, why does it shout in such an annoying voice as such? Make it stop!" He was already tiring of Muggy's incessant whining about his condition, lightly kicking the tiny Securitron to get the point across personally.

Long 15

After a moment of hesitation against his would-be attacker, Tomat would react, jumping back as the feathers that stuck out from his cap flared up in a sort of defensive pose, his mandibles clicking wildly. "Tisss not a pleasssantry to be attacked in sssuch a manner," the Aoshanti spoke, slurring his S's as his species' vocal structure disallowed a proper pronunciation in the human's languages, "I sssuggessst you ssstop thisss. Now." he hissed, as an unnatural heat filled the air surrounding Tomat, whose controlled breathing seemed to keep it from growing any hotter, and whose eyes began to glow ever so slightly with a radiant solar energy.

However, when Philip attempted to strike at Xarn's ankle, the Aoshanti would not hesitate again to act against him, throwing out his palm in the direction of the blade of Philip's rapier. From his hand a solid beam of heat and power would erupt, smacking the blade out of the human's hands and sending it skidding across the asphalt. In the moment it took him to calm his radiant energy, Tomat would stomp towards Philip and keel over, picking him up by the frill of his shirt and glaring deep into the human's eyes with his own, slowly fading back into their natural lapis blue.

"I warn once more. I will not be ssso forgiving again, ssso lisssten to me now," he demanded of Philip, shacking him lightly to get his point across, "Tomat Beral will not have hisss alliesss be harmed by incompetent Kariansss sssuch asss yourssself." With that, he dropped the man to the ground, looking at him coldly, "Now run along, or I will ssshow you the full extent of an Aossshanti'sss power."

Sloan

The villager swivelled about and looked to the two travellers. Potential buyers in this new world? He was more than happy to provide his wares if they were willing to pay, yes!

"Hello friends!" he declared in a happy villager tone as he nodded widely to Matilda and Entrapta as they approached his trader's carriage, a slow melody playing on repeat over his blocky jukebox. His polar bear steeds remained completely still, showing no signs of exhaustion or heat exposure despite their heavily-furred nature and the fact they were polar bears in the middle of an arid desert.

"Welcome to Schloobadoo shop, I am best prices, yes!" explained he, standing in the same place as he continued to track the potential customers and their eventual arival at his store.

Outside the Gomorrah

Sitting against the scrap wall that was adjacent to the most filthy of the casinos of the Strip sat a peculiar individual. A small, blue creature, snoring loudly and causing his trunk to flicker out with every breath. However, the sun bearing down on the Toydarian would awake him with a groggy mumble, before he began to flutter his wings quickly, floating back into the air with little effort as he stabilized himself with a groan.

"Oy oy oy... those Jawa be puttin' stuff in the drinks, eh..." Watto grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, before looking about with a loud gasp, "Oh man... where did those little gremlins take me? Is this Canto Bight? ...Nah! It's too crummy, even for there! So where did they take me, huh?"

It was then that the junk trader would notice one of the outdoor dancers of the Gomorrah and decide with a chuckle, "...Wherever I am, I think I will like it!"

Camp McCarran Terminal

Colonel Hsu's office door was hastily slammed open by a strong-looking man in a suit. As the power-armored guard tried to stop him, Armstrong simply continued on into Hsu's office, acting as if the figure wasn't even there as he brought his hands down on the man's desk.

"So you're the man in charge around here?" he asked snidely, looking the NCR official over with a forced smile as he continued, "Might I ask... what the hell happened around here? Last I checked, the world hadn't gone to shit this badly yet."

El Dorado Dry Lake

"By the divine... I may barely see a foot in front of me!" the Prophet declared as he shielded his eyes from the constant barrage of dust and sand. It was a common occurrence on the dry lake for dust-storms to whip up the cracked earth beneath the Covenant leader's hovering throne.

Slowly, he hovered through the cloudy mess, trying to discern where he was. In this distance, he could barely make out the silhouettes of things moving about quickly in the storm. From what he could see, the Prophet of Regret suspected they may have been his own forces; possibly a squad of Kig-Yar or some Yanme'e sticking close to the ground to keep their forms hidden from potential UNSC forces? He would have to move closer to see for sure.

As he moved closer, while he began to doubt the legitimacy of their Covenant status- their forms were even more basal than even the Yanme'e- he would no doubt make contact. "Your prophet is unharmed! Let us make way for High Charity posthaste!" he declared with the usual grandeur a San'Shyuum should hold in their tone.

The forms did not respond, with one of the six-legged figures shambling hastily towards the Prophet of Regret. It stopped a dozen feet in front of the holy figure, and perplexed Regret as he finally saw the massive ant for what it truly was. But before he could gaze upon the red ant in all of its spectacle, a spout of flame erupted from its jaws, shooting forth at the alien. The prophet barely had enough time to reel back, his throne pulling back as well as he yelped, "By the gods! Heathen beasts!" After a moment of shock, Regret furrowed his brow and scowled, "Such heretical monsters must be cleansed!"

A beam of light streamed down softly through the dust, as the rest of the fire ants had begun to charge the prophet, before the beam intensified into a more solid stream of energy, blasting down into the ground and devastating anything around it, including the many ants, roasting them under the plasma fire. It shook the earth as the beam began to move across the ground, slowly drifting towards a hole where several ants crawled out of. It did not even need to be on top of the hole to be effective, as the explosive force that came from the impact of the glassing beam signified that its work had been fulfilled.

As the cleansing beam slowed to a halt, and the dust storm settled for a time, the Prophet of Regret took to the south, off towards a nearby facility with a large tower. Perhaps he could find a way to contact his followers and retrieve him?

Lucky 38 Penthouse

The headquarters of Mr. House, the  two-level circular penthouse was a quiet dormitory for the controlling mind behind the entirety of New Vegas (but for the most part, the Strip) to find reprieve from the general riff-raff and annoyances that populated the Mojave. Several securitrons were on constant patrols about it, even though the gesture was entirely unnecessary; it was a formality to stay alert, even when you're hosted within one of the most well-defended positions in the entirety of the Mojave Wasteland.

However, the sudden ding of the elevator's bell was an unnatural anomaly in the House's private security network. Usually, such a feat required clearance and heavily-guided access on his own part.

As the doors opened, the Securitron guards were prepared to attack whoever had bypassed his security. And yet, as they prepared to attack, their words slurred as if slowing down, and they seemingly stopped in their tracks. A man dressed in a drab blue suit fastened his tie as he exited the elevator, looking about the luxurious penthouse for but a moment before he wetted his lips and spoke.

"...You've done well for yourself, m-Mister House," he began, walking up to the screen that projected the man's pre-war face, "Rebuilding a city within eight small years... such an achievment cannot be underplayed. Your.. manipulation of the situation is more than noteworthy."

"My-y associates agreed with that assessment... which is why I'm here. If you haven't noticed, Mister House, this world is caught in the crossfire of powers far beyond your control. A... tournament, spanning all of existence and then some more, bringing a multitude of fighters to a single dimension. It will, hmm, stay here for some time. And it will wreak havoc on the l-land. Yes... it will be a problem for you, if it has not been already," The G-Man explained, "Which is why I come with a simple... proposition, if you're willing to listen. If not, and you're unwilling to do business... well, my sights are set east of the Colorado, then. Though I would prefer to work with someone more understanding than the despot." He patiently awaited House's response, knowing that the both of them had all the time in the world now.
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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by Lowfn on Fri Jan 17, 2020 9:34 pm

Jacobstown

"N-No! It IS hard!" Elizabeth blubbered out in the middle of her crying before flinging her arms towards the mess in frustration, "Look at this! A-And the stew and- and..." She could barely even speak as she descended into tears once more as she tried to explain how much work it had taken to get the kitchen to a usable state and the food edible, but could not keep from sobbing. All of her work, and nobody even got to eat the stew, to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Her stew was ruined, and the kitchen was a mess of stew and likely-radioactive drywall dust and probable mold. Making a new stew would require just as much work as before, if not moreso given she would need to get more meat and other ingredients that had already been scarce to begin with.

"WHAT IS ALL THIS NOISE!?" A nightkin angrily yelled as he looked into the kitchen. Of course, it was Keene, the de facto leader of nightkin at Jacobstown, "WHY IS THE TINY HUMAN SQUEALING? MAKE IT STOP OR MAKE IT GO OUTSIDE IF IT NEEDS TO SQUEAL SO LOUDLY!" Being yelled at as well as knowing she was being a nuisance to her would-be clientele only made Elizabeth more miserable as she continued to cry.

Meanwhile, outside the Lucky 38, Marcus had his own problem to deal with, not that it was a particularly difficult one. While he was certainly a smarter-than-average super mutant, he was still a super mutant, and there was one thing that all super mutants were very good at: Punching things.

With a furious super mutant yell, Marcus pried the much weaker pig-girl off of his face before tossing her a bit into the air and slamming his fist into her, sending Wilba a good ten feet from himself. While he was ready to scream at her and tell her to get out of his town, he recognized that perhaps her own mutant nature compelled her towards violence, just as it did for many other mutants- especially the nightkin.

"LISTEN!... Listen... There is a fresh stew inside prepared by a young cook that you can eat... If that is the reason you thought my face was suitable 'munchies'... We also have a doctor present that I recommend you visit as well," He suggested, not turning his back to the dangerous creature.

Soon after, he would be forced to do just that as Harvey tumbled through the Jacobstown fence and hit the sign. "Oh what the... Too much is going on today..." He ran over, hoping Wilba had enough braincells to follow his advice and not cause any more trouble as he tried to help the basilisk up.

"Come on, let's get you up. We've got a doctor," He grunted, reaching down to Harvey. He had much more to say than just that, but figured helping was a bit more important at that moment than asking what the hell was going on or giving him the spiel of Jacobstown.

The Lucky 38

The screen that the interloper spoke to remained unchanged, giving no insight to the inner workings of Robert House's mind at that moment, though he would tersely state, "I don't respond well to threats." Of course, this man somehow broke into the Lucky 38 and seemingly disabled his securitrons... That or the slightly more impossible possibility that time itself as being affected.

In either case, this man had a very good hand, and there seemed no way for House to sneak a peek at the cards he may have. As much as the intrusion and threat made him simmer, this did prove to be an opportunity he couldn't to pass up... Not to mention the consequences for denying this intruder. It was not so much the threat of helping Caesar, but rather the threat of any sort of opposition to House that would threaten him or his Vegas.

"That being said," came House's voice through the speakers, "Your very being here is demonstration enough that you do indeed have something to offer, and I am not unaware of the situation we are in, though I did not guess that this was some sort of inter-dimensional tournament. Let's talk business then. What is it you're offering, and what do you expect from me in return?"

Gomorrah

Life wasn't easy at the Gomorrah for the ladies that worked there. Between the degenerate bosses and drug addiction and generally just being a prostitute, saying it sucked was an understatement. While dancing outside of the casino under the hot sun wasn't easy work, it sure beat having a shift inside the casino.

For the woman showing herself off to the Strip that had the misfortune of being ogled at by Watto, that was not the case at the moment. Just looking at him made her want to vomit, a feeling made worse when she realized how he was looking at her. Would he even be let in the casino? Probably not. After all, if she was disgusted by his appearance, she could only imagine how the casinogoers inside would feel. Even if he had caps, his presence would scare off the caps of others.

She turned her head away from him and continued her dancing with a certain queasiness.

Camp McCarran Terminal

The power armored trooper shouted for Armstrong to leave, hastily preparing to fire before Hsu gestured for the man to stand down. The Colonel was most definitely startled by Armstrong, but it only took a moment of thought before he recognized what was going on here.

"... I've been getting reports all day of things I wouldn't believe if not for that thing showing up outside," colonel Hsu started, gesturing at the wall in the direction of the mess that had been made in the camp, "From what I gather, I'm guessing you're one of the people that've showed up from another 'universe'. If the 'NCR' doesn't ring any bells, then this isn't the world you know."

While it would've been easy to let the trooper fire upon Armstrong, Hsu was a lot more level-headed and collected than that. He can't imagine many people faring that well if they ended up in another world.

Gibson Scrap Yard

"What in the-" The old woman started before her dogs went mad barking at the arrival of skekTek. She had nothing against mutants, but even she needed a second to process his appearance before she shouted at her canines, "Oh hush it!... I said quiet!" The dogs' cries eventually came to low growls, which would have to do as Gibson turned to the... thing.

"Now I've got no idea where this thing came from. Thought for a moment it might've been some scrap I picked up, but I would remember finding a miniature securitron. Someone musta tossed it here when I wasn't lookin', and I can see why," She explained as she looked down at Muggy, "If you want it, I can sell it to ya." While it was clearly defective, anything resembling a securitron would be some high-value scrap.

Atomic Wrangler

"Really, huh? Information's all you need?" James Garret remarked, "Well, turns out we do actually need help with something. Didn't expect to be hiring a clown to handle it, but hey." He shrugged with a smirk and glanced back to the door behind the bar before looking back to Classy, "Normally my sister handles this sort of stuff, but she's 'busy' right now. We used to let people buy on a tab, and we got a few guys and gals who decided to ruin that for everybody. I'd save the knife for intimidation though. We need caps, not corpses after all. Sound like work you'd be willing to do?"

Bison Steve Hotel

The interior of the hotel was as dingy as the rest of the wasteland, though much darker. A few lights illuminated the area, and showed a convict patrolling about. Given Clubs' dark appearance himself, the man did not notice the midget against the darkness. He let out a yawn with his gun in hand before turning away from the door and walking back down the hall.


_________________
Then the world blew up. The end.
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Dimensional Clash X [IC] - Page 3 Empty Re: Dimensional Clash X [IC]

Post by TheRandomRingmaster on Tue Jan 28, 2020 3:53 pm

[i]Crazy Bison's Bill's Hotel Door[i]

Resume being Clubs Deuces

The small shelled,hobbit like creature attempted to reach for the doorknob to open up a door to what he assumed was an interesting development(as some closed doors appeared to contain)

>Be Hearts Boxcars[\b]

Clubs paused,and wriggled the three fingers on his outstretcged hand,there was something….off in the air,something heavy,and annoyed,something with more than pinch of anger,so much anger one would argue that that much anger would spoil the broth.

[b]BE HEARTS BOXCARS DAMMIT!!


A large shadow fell over the doorway,Clubs turned around to view fellow member of the Midnight Crew, Hearts Boxcars, towering over him(though to be fair,with Hearts’s height it was quite easy to tower).

Have a reunion

“Boxcars!”Clubs yipped running over and hugging the fellow carapacian’s leg.

“GEDDOFF ME!” Hearts grunted before kicking Deuce off and into the door, rattling it on its warworn hinges.

Hearts Boxcars marched up to the door before gingerly opening it, like the gingerbread man, fast and quick with it crumbling in his grip, the door reminders fell off clattering to the ground, as Hearts comically held the knob, in his right hand.

“WHADDA MAKE OF ALL THIS?!” He demanded of Clubs.

The short creacher readjusted his hat not seeming to pick up on the hostilities present and peeked through the doorway

“It looks like a hotel”. Deuce said, tipping the brim of his hat at the shocked gang member as they brought up their gun.

Hearts dropped the doorknob and grabbed the fallen door, and hucked it at the assailant,it smashed into the figure splattering his head and embedding itself into the wall behind ‘em.

The other quite frankly frightened gang member desperately tried to light a stick of dynamite to toss at the brute,undetered Hearts Boxcars roared, shaking the hotel with his anger as spittle flew from his fangs, he ripped a axe out of his Deck of Cards, and spilt the man’s cranium to his collarbone wide open.
TheRandomRingmaster
TheRandomRingmaster
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Post by AestheticMonkey on Sun Feb 23, 2020 6:11 am

Above the Mojave

A shooting star was descending over the Mojave sky. Wether it was nighttime or daytime, another bright, glowing object had appeared for all to see. The object grew larger and brighter as it continued it's inevitable descent towards the desert. No amount of missiles, lasers or prayer would stop it. This was simply a large object with a ton of momentum. It grew larger and larger, hurtling through the air at supersonic speeds. A fine trail of vapor was strewn in its wake, the composition of the meteor was getting so hot that it was reacting with the gases in the atmosphere.

Those merciful to not be in the impact zone, but unlucky enough to be within range of its pressure wave would hear a single, startling *roar* of air that tore through the formerly calm air. Windows were shattered and thrown about, garbage was lifted and swept away. People were knocked flat onto their feet, and in some cases, lifted clean off them. Some old and moldering buildings, particularly those of old, parched wood were given their death blow, along with poorly constructed scrap shacks. Ears would no doubt be ringing after such an event, though permanent damage was unlikely given the brief nature of the pressure.

The meteorite hurtled, screaming until it landed into an embankment near the follower's outpost. The devastation was imminent, the meteorite broke on impact, the siliceous shell scattering while the metallic parts continued on their trajectory. The nearby follower outpost was destroyed as a massive shockwave tore through the area, the tower swiftly being lifted off its supports and hinges and flung about in the wind with a thunderous crash. It was flung clear into outer-vegas, landing in a torn heap near the REPCONN headquarters, to say nothing of the people that were once within it. Mercifully, they never felt a thing before the pressure-wave pancaked them.

A giant crater had formed in the wake, with a diameter easily reaching 140ft. The embankment the meteor had crashed into was turned into a giant cloud of debris. The debris soared over lake mead and high into the air, visible all the way from Jacobstown and even further beyond. Meanwhile, the scattered remnants of an entire hill were flung into Lake Mead, Hoover Dam, Ranger Station Alpha, The Fort , Boulder City and the 188. Pebbles, rocks, boulders and sparks of molten rock and metal rained down upon those areas. Not to mention a choking cloud of dirt, dust, sand and even water that was stripped by the resulting impact.

The Earth rang like a bell from the force of the impact, the buildings nearby falling into a loose mess from the resulting Earthquake. Several overpasses nearby and even in outlying areas were toppled, already weakened from decades of neglect. Vegas and much of the other preserved infrastructure, such as Hoover Dam, would withstand the quake with no issues. Though the folks in McCarran would be pleased to hear the cries of fiends as ruined hovels collapsed in on them. Everyone in the Mojave would no doubt hear the blast of the impact, and feel the tremors. Even the diffuse ones that would rattle the teeth of those stationed at the Mojave Outpost.

Bits of flung meteorite skipped and scattered across the surface of lake mead. Splashing up great clouds of water as the surface tension acted as great springboard for them. Until they dunked beneath its surface in great, wet booms. Splashing water high into the air, and causing masses of fish to float belly up as their innards were destroyed by the shockwaves.

When the dust settled, and something could be seen within the smoking, magmatic crater. A perfectly ovoid chunk of crystal sat unperturbed among a bed of rapidly hardening metal, molten rock and ashen dust. It glowed and hummed strangely, and any electrical equipment in the vicinity acted strangely. Radios especially, blaring out strange frequencies and receiving perturbing interference.

Jacobstown

Harvey blinked for a moment, a large crack on his head was angrily bleeding a clear fluid that smelt faintly of sugar and heavily of acetone. He then panicked slightly and set a massive hand on Marcus's shoulder. Grasping him tightly and holding him at a distance. "Jolly green giants! I don't want your damn green beans!" He'd shout, getting up onto his two legs. The beetle-man seemed to calm down the more he stood, and the longer he had to recover from his sudden impact. He'd retract his arm, and strong grip before sheepishly looking away.

"Sorry. Hit my head real hard, couldn't see you that well. Fuck." He'd hiss, holding his hand up to his head, and feeling at the noticeable crack in his exoskeleton. "How bad is it. I'm bleeding a bunch of armilymph aren't I? Is it water?" He'd pull his hand to his mouth. "Okay armilymph. No blood though. Maybe a concussion."

He'd then noticeably flinch as the meteorite tore over the Mojave nearby. Letting out a guttural chitter as he looked around nervously.

AestheticMonkey
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