Joshua Tamashii
Alucroas
Spider Pickle
Shinny
savy
hanzo
Fetzen
Tim the Yeti
IzurichASTERIA SPACE
One might argue being a great pirate takes as much luck as skill. More times than not, it was better to be lucky than good, and if both? You have Captain Metallo and his crew drifting in Asterian space. They took deliberate measures to avoid detection from the buzzing Orichalca's scouts in orbit buzzing about like bees, zipping in and out of orbit. However, there was one oddity looming about. There should be way more. As the vessel masquerading as debris veered ever so close to the last line of sensory detectors, The Midas Dome, set to analyze through every photon refracting off its asteroid mile-wide thickness, the defense dropped.
Other than an eerie hum, it was tempting. Nothing separated Metallo’s crew from upping the propulsion, shortcutting their journey into the city.
… UNTIL THERE WAS!
The blinding baptism like of millions of bulbs overheating, infinite shattering shards, sputtering explosive light evolving into vortexes of tangling gold and silver rays prying open a slit in space with sheer might, willpower, birthing a glorious luminescent mothership, a whale by comparison directly over the captain's stealth vessel.
Flying too close to the sun, it was too late to run now. The seldom air traffic and dropping of the dome. It was not a trap. It merely foretold the arrival of one of the grand Orichalca's ships, making space. Skin bathing directly in the ethereal light of the oval ship simmered. The pirates in such close vicinity had to be sweating wells. A gravitational-like pull pinned their ship terrifyingly close as a mechanical whir progressively dialed up, triggering a sonic boom that made you instinctually close your eyes. The helix-ringed ship rubber band popped from orbit into the Asteria homeworld, dropping countless space rocks into a vast artificial ocean stimming with life.
Among those dropping towards the carefully curated marine ecosystem behind the main mountainside of the Golden City, Captain Metallo and his crew, probably ready to puke from the epileptic light show and drastic movement. Their journey into Asteria wasn't textbook by any means, but successful as the Orichalca ship disregarded their presence, gently hovering westward to land, marking the end of their latest space excursion hauling the chaotic cast they knew and unknowingly brought.
Victoria's hazel eyes gleamed sad, conflicted, alone in a strange world. Struggling to process the events that brought her here, the nine-year-old's last memory was a traumatic one. Shaken out of her sleep by a blaring announcement rattling her bedroom, her eyes pried open. Immediately noticing Mr.Whiskers was gone, she was concerned for his safety. That worry shifted immediately to herself when a woman slithered through the crack in her window, cross-bodying onto her bed. In serious stranger danger, Victoria shut her eyes to scream as loud as her lungs allowed. A swift hand muffled her cry as her bulging eyes strained looking over her shoulder. A strange light filled the room, then the still of darkness.
It all felt like a bad dream. The bed the heiress awoke in was not hers, high up, circular, several times larger than she was accustomed to. It took several scoots for the girl to slide from underneath the gold satin sheets to the edge. The size of the room was baffling, with incredibly high ceilings supporting several gingko chandeliers and their white petals. It took a lot to impress the young girl, never known to dine without a silver spoon. In Aesteria, the standards for cutlery were gold. Rushing barefoot across the cold white statuario marble floors, Victoria lugged at the door but it wouldn't budge. She roamed the luxurious space until she turned her attention to a large balcony. Behind its translucent beige drapes, a small, familiar figure, waving its tail silhouetted by the morning light.
“Mr. Whiskers. You came to save me!” Victoria's delighted cry filled the room, so loud that her voice shot through the window of the adjacent balcony attached to the room next to hers. She wasn't aware, but her unsolicited spooner inhabited that room, them too abducted by the space-faring tribe of amazons and given favorable accommodations.
Victoria was young, and simply too short-sighted to anticipate such a thing. Seeing a familiar face, she was far too elated, immediately picking up the calico cat, mushing her rosy cheeks against his. She put him down to look for some food in the kitchen, raiding the nearby cabinets and fridge. When she came back, Mr. Whiskers peculiarly lounged on the couch like Garfield as if he was watching the television which mysteriously turned on.
*** "By the authority vested in me by the Orichalca Tribunal of Asteria, I hereby enumerate the heinous transgressions committed by the defendant, Reginald Cavala, CEO of Balecorp, against the laws and sanctity of the galaxy…” ***
It was her father. Worry filled Victoria’s previously gleeful face, taken aback by the alien live stream before her. It was true she despised her father, but she realized he was in danger. Her silence spoke wonders, watching Reginald in a state she’d never witnessed before.
“Father…”
Only a truly unique cache of crimes accumulated across the universe managed to land the head of Balecorp smack dab in such an absurd predicament. Forcibly kneeled, wrists and neck shackled by luminous rings. The floating halos seared his flesh whenever his posture lagged. His arms felt like noodles. Were he to move slightly, the rings followed, but any drastic sequence might result in the CEO losing a hand or worse, his head.
In the center of a coliseum carved into a mountainside blessed by Midas’ touch, Reginald stood trial at the mercy of thousands of winged, teal-skinned, female warriors chanting in excitement over the set of twin waterfalls on opposing sides of the arena. Yet, somehow, the corrupt entrepreneur felt at ease, releasing a sigh of relief. Maybe it was because, for the time being, the disgraced linchpin was as far from Merse as realistically possible. Perhaps it was because he assumed his daughter and all of the agents within his manor were left be. Neither of those were true but bliss sure is nature's best pain reliever.
After the interlude of harmonizing obtuse-shaped Didgeridoos, Reginald Cavalas’ crimes were listed as follows…
The list continued to the point where the sun notably changed position in the sky…
*** “These petty crimes, while seemingly inconsequential on their own, collectively disrupt the harmony and sanctity of the universe. In the name of justice and the preservation of cosmic order, these transgressions must be addressed for the greater good of the universe. You, Reginald Cavala are sentenced to an eternity of indentured servitude so that you may finally begin to nibble at atoning for your wrongs only by the grace of our great matriarch." ***
The tall, bejeweled Orichalca warrior named Nalaita draped in her silky, golden sashes and sarong finished her speech, looking down on Reginald with a set of judgemental eyes raising concern in Victoria’s visage. By her fathers wishes, she lives a sheltered life. The alien woman was of nothing she’d ever imagined, admiring her kinky white hair braided to her ankles and domineering set off fully stretched, feathery wings. Victoria didn’t let the woman's otherworldly beauty distract her for long. The fact was her father was in trouble. Noticing the girl's heart raced with the all too familiar feeling of having already lost a parent in her mother, before the first tear managed to drip off her cheek, Mr. Whiskers did the unthinkable.
“... I’ll save him.” It was said almost begrudgingly.
“...”
Puzzled, Victoria turned to her pet, wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks. “Mr.Whiskers…you can talk?”
“Of course I can. I’m a special cat.”
Fully in possession of her innocence as a child. That answer was more than enough for her.“Wow! Can you really save my Father?”
“I will!” the cat said valiantly, leaping all the way from the couch onto the balcony. Perched on the glossy railing, he left Victoria one final message before biding her adieu.
“Make you listen to the nice green ladies and eat your veggies.”
Victoria’s face became playfully sour-faced before smiling cheek-to-cheek. “Thank you, Mr.Whiskers. You’re the best!”
And so, Merse leaped, taking in the glimmering, breathtaking views of the golden architectural marvel city built within the Sub-Saharan-like tropics that is Asteria. The information broker plunged a few hundred feet, his tiny frame transmogrifying into a human-sized anthropomorphic feline, flesh bubbling like microwaved mac and cheese. This time, clothes even came with the package. Placing his signature fedora firmly on his head to complement his long, beige trench coat and trousers, Merse was in full detective mode. For anyone with the displeasure of knowing him, they knew this was his default. Landing securely on his toes as a cat always does, Merse knew exactly where he was.
This massive building he referred to as a five-star prison. The Orichalca Amazon's terrible habit of abducting civilians was something he had several opportunities to observe. Of all the shady figures Merse's line of work put him in contact with, a handful of them already met similar fates like Reginald, rotting away in the prison deep in the core of the asteroid were they not to reform. **This** place, however, was different. This is where they brought the women, granting them the chance to accept their rightful place in this misandrist's wet dream of a matriarchy.
For men, this place was a dystopian hell hole. Yeah, men were allowed to visit, and even enjoy the amenities, but with laws so obtuse and skewed, it was only a matter of time before any male found himself in trouble for the most petty of offenses. Without a doubt, they planned to assimilate Victoria and even the woman in the other room that Merse stealthy snooped on before finding the child.
He noticed the stealth gear littered all over the floor. It was fishy, and not in a good way like filleted flounder. The detective deduced she infiltrated the Cavala residence and was near the young heiress, mildly concerning him. Their rooms being so close made sense. As suspect of a character Merse was in his own right, not trusting the woman, the information broker left fine traces of his fur as any cat would all over her apartment. One here, one there. Anywhere. These hairs were peculiarly sensitive. Always connected, Merse could identify where every single one was without much thought. Though a protective measure, it was susceptible to backtracking if he wasn't careful. He wasn't. Maybe that's what he wanted. It was.
Sha’Rema’s Chancery
A vigorous debate ensued at the precipice of a mountain of Asteria, a golden castle, shining like the morning sun, a gleaming star to waking eyes. A court of warriors, young and old, tall and short, unlogical and insane argued under the light of a constellation chandelier centering a spiraling amphitheater. Its prevailing light has not been off for a century. To normal folk it was blinding, but Asteria’s prestigious warriors considered it a blessing to receive its golden rays. In reality, their eyes were baked to oblivion, most seeing vividly through sensory techniques passed down from one generation to the next.
“This man's body is impressive, sleek, agile, powerful. The laborers born from him could sustain a small generation of efficient workers, maybe even be lucky to father an Orichalca of immeasurable potential.”
“He lacks the mind! Think of where we found him. What exactly was he doing? Krillians aren't known for exactly their philosophical acumen. He even injured Maletesma!”
“Thalira, more the reason to sentence him to reformation! He is a loose cannon left be!”
“Surely someone capable of injuring a warrior of her magnitude is worth his weight in gold, which is why I decided to barter them as much. Was a small price to pay considering the troves we plundered on Axlar. They should be able to flip—”
“I just think he's hawt!” shot a high-pitched voice chanting from a distance.
“...”
“...”
The room erupted into chaos like dozens of alleycats squabbling in an alley over scraps in a seafood restaurant’s dumper. Thirty voices clashed in blaring arguments, borderline screeching so loud and tangled, not a single word pierced the uproar. All in front of the very man of topic, who at this point, probably pictured the prospect of a room of women fighting over him going much different. They haven’t even asked for his input and haven't bothered to feed him. Rude. Not to mention, he found himself caged, contained by golden constructs resembling hard light on a raised platform. As the debate dragged on with no discernible end, the Orichalca warriors practically begged him to act out and escape as a faint trace of a Kharcho soup slipped into the room.
Only several floors down, a feast was underway in a bountiful oasis of gastronomic delights. A cherished custom, celebrating the latest excursion's success, their victories, culture, and most importantly unyielding spirit bringing light to the world. A banquet featuring fruits and vegetables from across the galaxy grown in the verdant gardens of Asteria, displayed by floating jumbo-sized cornucopia weaving gently in the air. Golden trays, imbued with the same magical energy that their warriors possessed, floated gracefully through the hall, serving as an endless conveyor belt of culinary delicacies unique to this asteroid. Even the utensils shimmered with a life of their own, resting on tables draped in sleek white linens, starkly contrasting with the collective golden splendor of the venue.
And watching all of this, a pair of cat eyes, observing from the safety of the skyward atrium.
One might argue being a great pirate takes as much luck as skill. More times than not, it was better to be lucky than good, and if both? You have Captain Metallo and his crew drifting in Asterian space. They took deliberate measures to avoid detection from the buzzing Orichalca's scouts in orbit buzzing about like bees, zipping in and out of orbit. However, there was one oddity looming about. There should be way more. As the vessel masquerading as debris veered ever so close to the last line of sensory detectors, The Midas Dome, set to analyze through every photon refracting off its asteroid mile-wide thickness, the defense dropped.
Other than an eerie hum, it was tempting. Nothing separated Metallo’s crew from upping the propulsion, shortcutting their journey into the city.
… UNTIL THERE WAS!
The blinding baptism like of millions of bulbs overheating, infinite shattering shards, sputtering explosive light evolving into vortexes of tangling gold and silver rays prying open a slit in space with sheer might, willpower, birthing a glorious luminescent mothership, a whale by comparison directly over the captain's stealth vessel.
Flying too close to the sun, it was too late to run now. The seldom air traffic and dropping of the dome. It was not a trap. It merely foretold the arrival of one of the grand Orichalca's ships, making space. Skin bathing directly in the ethereal light of the oval ship simmered. The pirates in such close vicinity had to be sweating wells. A gravitational-like pull pinned their ship terrifyingly close as a mechanical whir progressively dialed up, triggering a sonic boom that made you instinctually close your eyes. The helix-ringed ship rubber band popped from orbit into the Asteria homeworld, dropping countless space rocks into a vast artificial ocean stimming with life.
Among those dropping towards the carefully curated marine ecosystem behind the main mountainside of the Golden City, Captain Metallo and his crew, probably ready to puke from the epileptic light show and drastic movement. Their journey into Asteria wasn't textbook by any means, but successful as the Orichalca ship disregarded their presence, gently hovering westward to land, marking the end of their latest space excursion hauling the chaotic cast they knew and unknowingly brought.
✯✯✯
Victoria's hazel eyes gleamed sad, conflicted, alone in a strange world. Struggling to process the events that brought her here, the nine-year-old's last memory was a traumatic one. Shaken out of her sleep by a blaring announcement rattling her bedroom, her eyes pried open. Immediately noticing Mr.Whiskers was gone, she was concerned for his safety. That worry shifted immediately to herself when a woman slithered through the crack in her window, cross-bodying onto her bed. In serious stranger danger, Victoria shut her eyes to scream as loud as her lungs allowed. A swift hand muffled her cry as her bulging eyes strained looking over her shoulder. A strange light filled the room, then the still of darkness.
It all felt like a bad dream. The bed the heiress awoke in was not hers, high up, circular, several times larger than she was accustomed to. It took several scoots for the girl to slide from underneath the gold satin sheets to the edge. The size of the room was baffling, with incredibly high ceilings supporting several gingko chandeliers and their white petals. It took a lot to impress the young girl, never known to dine without a silver spoon. In Aesteria, the standards for cutlery were gold. Rushing barefoot across the cold white statuario marble floors, Victoria lugged at the door but it wouldn't budge. She roamed the luxurious space until she turned her attention to a large balcony. Behind its translucent beige drapes, a small, familiar figure, waving its tail silhouetted by the morning light.
“Mr. Whiskers. You came to save me!” Victoria's delighted cry filled the room, so loud that her voice shot through the window of the adjacent balcony attached to the room next to hers. She wasn't aware, but her unsolicited spooner inhabited that room, them too abducted by the space-faring tribe of amazons and given favorable accommodations.
Victoria was young, and simply too short-sighted to anticipate such a thing. Seeing a familiar face, she was far too elated, immediately picking up the calico cat, mushing her rosy cheeks against his. She put him down to look for some food in the kitchen, raiding the nearby cabinets and fridge. When she came back, Mr. Whiskers peculiarly lounged on the couch like Garfield as if he was watching the television which mysteriously turned on.
*** "By the authority vested in me by the Orichalca Tribunal of Asteria, I hereby enumerate the heinous transgressions committed by the defendant, Reginald Cavala, CEO of Balecorp, against the laws and sanctity of the galaxy…” ***
It was her father. Worry filled Victoria’s previously gleeful face, taken aback by the alien live stream before her. It was true she despised her father, but she realized he was in danger. Her silence spoke wonders, watching Reginald in a state she’d never witnessed before.
“Father…”
Only a truly unique cache of crimes accumulated across the universe managed to land the head of Balecorp smack dab in such an absurd predicament. Forcibly kneeled, wrists and neck shackled by luminous rings. The floating halos seared his flesh whenever his posture lagged. His arms felt like noodles. Were he to move slightly, the rings followed, but any drastic sequence might result in the CEO losing a hand or worse, his head.
In the center of a coliseum carved into a mountainside blessed by Midas’ touch, Reginald stood trial at the mercy of thousands of winged, teal-skinned, female warriors chanting in excitement over the set of twin waterfalls on opposing sides of the arena. Yet, somehow, the corrupt entrepreneur felt at ease, releasing a sigh of relief. Maybe it was because, for the time being, the disgraced linchpin was as far from Merse as realistically possible. Perhaps it was because he assumed his daughter and all of the agents within his manor were left be. Neither of those were true but bliss sure is nature's best pain reliever.
After the interlude of harmonizing obtuse-shaped Didgeridoos, Reginald Cavalas’ crimes were listed as follows…
- Unlawful Waste Dumping in the Sacred Gardens of Exoplanet Xerxes.
- Petty Theft of Relics from the Ancient Civilization of Renaum.
- Forgery or Falsification of Planetary Deeds.
- Selling filtrated mud from Planet Mire, Labeling it as Spring Water.
- Sabotaging the Galactic Bubble Wrap Factory on Planet Pop.
- Faking an Emergency to Skip Queue at the Intergalactic Spaceport in Prolix.
- The Mass Production & Smuggling of Truly Forbidden Snacks into Earth F67x through Ximbic.
- Illegally Parking in the Handicap Zone at Asteroid Metropolis Mall of The Universe.
- Racketeering Charge - Illegal Trading of Stolen Sacred Samurai Swords from Planet Fortis.
- Starting An Illegal Fire Stone Mining Operation on Planet Kilamara.
- The Mass Distribution of Stacker 2000 Throughout The Multiverse's Space Lucha Scene…”
The list continued to the point where the sun notably changed position in the sky…
*** “These petty crimes, while seemingly inconsequential on their own, collectively disrupt the harmony and sanctity of the universe. In the name of justice and the preservation of cosmic order, these transgressions must be addressed for the greater good of the universe. You, Reginald Cavala are sentenced to an eternity of indentured servitude so that you may finally begin to nibble at atoning for your wrongs only by the grace of our great matriarch." ***
The tall, bejeweled Orichalca warrior named Nalaita draped in her silky, golden sashes and sarong finished her speech, looking down on Reginald with a set of judgemental eyes raising concern in Victoria’s visage. By her fathers wishes, she lives a sheltered life. The alien woman was of nothing she’d ever imagined, admiring her kinky white hair braided to her ankles and domineering set off fully stretched, feathery wings. Victoria didn’t let the woman's otherworldly beauty distract her for long. The fact was her father was in trouble. Noticing the girl's heart raced with the all too familiar feeling of having already lost a parent in her mother, before the first tear managed to drip off her cheek, Mr. Whiskers did the unthinkable.
“... I’ll save him.” It was said almost begrudgingly.
“...”
Puzzled, Victoria turned to her pet, wiping the tears from her rosy cheeks. “Mr.Whiskers…you can talk?”
“Of course I can. I’m a special cat.”
Fully in possession of her innocence as a child. That answer was more than enough for her.“Wow! Can you really save my Father?”
“I will!” the cat said valiantly, leaping all the way from the couch onto the balcony. Perched on the glossy railing, he left Victoria one final message before biding her adieu.
“Make you listen to the nice green ladies and eat your veggies.”
Victoria’s face became playfully sour-faced before smiling cheek-to-cheek. “Thank you, Mr.Whiskers. You’re the best!”
And so, Merse leaped, taking in the glimmering, breathtaking views of the golden architectural marvel city built within the Sub-Saharan-like tropics that is Asteria. The information broker plunged a few hundred feet, his tiny frame transmogrifying into a human-sized anthropomorphic feline, flesh bubbling like microwaved mac and cheese. This time, clothes even came with the package. Placing his signature fedora firmly on his head to complement his long, beige trench coat and trousers, Merse was in full detective mode. For anyone with the displeasure of knowing him, they knew this was his default. Landing securely on his toes as a cat always does, Merse knew exactly where he was.
This massive building he referred to as a five-star prison. The Orichalca Amazon's terrible habit of abducting civilians was something he had several opportunities to observe. Of all the shady figures Merse's line of work put him in contact with, a handful of them already met similar fates like Reginald, rotting away in the prison deep in the core of the asteroid were they not to reform. **This** place, however, was different. This is where they brought the women, granting them the chance to accept their rightful place in this misandrist's wet dream of a matriarchy.
For men, this place was a dystopian hell hole. Yeah, men were allowed to visit, and even enjoy the amenities, but with laws so obtuse and skewed, it was only a matter of time before any male found himself in trouble for the most petty of offenses. Without a doubt, they planned to assimilate Victoria and even the woman in the other room that Merse stealthy snooped on before finding the child.
He noticed the stealth gear littered all over the floor. It was fishy, and not in a good way like filleted flounder. The detective deduced she infiltrated the Cavala residence and was near the young heiress, mildly concerning him. Their rooms being so close made sense. As suspect of a character Merse was in his own right, not trusting the woman, the information broker left fine traces of his fur as any cat would all over her apartment. One here, one there. Anywhere. These hairs were peculiarly sensitive. Always connected, Merse could identify where every single one was without much thought. Though a protective measure, it was susceptible to backtracking if he wasn't careful. He wasn't. Maybe that's what he wanted. It was.
Sha’Rema’s Chancery
A vigorous debate ensued at the precipice of a mountain of Asteria, a golden castle, shining like the morning sun, a gleaming star to waking eyes. A court of warriors, young and old, tall and short, unlogical and insane argued under the light of a constellation chandelier centering a spiraling amphitheater. Its prevailing light has not been off for a century. To normal folk it was blinding, but Asteria’s prestigious warriors considered it a blessing to receive its golden rays. In reality, their eyes were baked to oblivion, most seeing vividly through sensory techniques passed down from one generation to the next.
“This man's body is impressive, sleek, agile, powerful. The laborers born from him could sustain a small generation of efficient workers, maybe even be lucky to father an Orichalca of immeasurable potential.”
“He lacks the mind! Think of where we found him. What exactly was he doing? Krillians aren't known for exactly their philosophical acumen. He even injured Maletesma!”
“Thalira, more the reason to sentence him to reformation! He is a loose cannon left be!”
“Surely someone capable of injuring a warrior of her magnitude is worth his weight in gold, which is why I decided to barter them as much. Was a small price to pay considering the troves we plundered on Axlar. They should be able to flip—”
“I just think he's hawt!” shot a high-pitched voice chanting from a distance.
“...”
“...”
The room erupted into chaos like dozens of alleycats squabbling in an alley over scraps in a seafood restaurant’s dumper. Thirty voices clashed in blaring arguments, borderline screeching so loud and tangled, not a single word pierced the uproar. All in front of the very man of topic, who at this point, probably pictured the prospect of a room of women fighting over him going much different. They haven’t even asked for his input and haven't bothered to feed him. Rude. Not to mention, he found himself caged, contained by golden constructs resembling hard light on a raised platform. As the debate dragged on with no discernible end, the Orichalca warriors practically begged him to act out and escape as a faint trace of a Kharcho soup slipped into the room.
Only several floors down, a feast was underway in a bountiful oasis of gastronomic delights. A cherished custom, celebrating the latest excursion's success, their victories, culture, and most importantly unyielding spirit bringing light to the world. A banquet featuring fruits and vegetables from across the galaxy grown in the verdant gardens of Asteria, displayed by floating jumbo-sized cornucopia weaving gently in the air. Golden trays, imbued with the same magical energy that their warriors possessed, floated gracefully through the hall, serving as an endless conveyor belt of culinary delicacies unique to this asteroid. Even the utensils shimmered with a life of their own, resting on tables draped in sleek white linens, starkly contrasting with the collective golden splendor of the venue.
And watching all of this, a pair of cat eyes, observing from the safety of the skyward atrium.
