[center][color=tan][h3]Courier 6[/h3][/color]
[b]Level 3[/b] - (27/30) EXP
[b]Location:[/b] Castle Bridge
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1899[/center]

Almost immediately after the Courier beseeched the spirits in his hands, they manifested in a solid form in accordance to his will. Flanking either side of the Courier was now a large transforming robot, and a mutated humanoid beastly snapping turtle monster. Yes, this pleased the Courier greatly. Far too many lakelurks had tried to get the better of him in the past, while Bastion had nearly decimated him (though that was largely thanks to Zer0), and now they both stood connected to his will, his path.

Oh god.

[i]Oh god.[/i]

He subsumed their wills. Well, the lakelurk was just an animal so that was not nearly of consequence, but the Bastion? Mechanical though he be, the Courier could not deny what he observed in the programming: it had a personality and free will. He was no stranger to artificial intelligences with self awareness. After all, ED-E displayed the hallmarks, as did Muggy back in the Big Empty. Was he overstepping his bounds? No, no he decided. He wasn't overwriting their wills. They were dead and he gave them a new purpose. A new lease on life as it were, that just so happened to be linked to him. He could feel it. The strikers could break that bond with him if he mistreated them, he felt. The sudden realization that he just might have become what he hated most, it put a pit in his stomach. Like when you think you lost something only to realize you were holding onto it the whole time. It didn’t help that he was so under the influence that a great deal of rational thought escaped him. Damn, if only he had some mentats to balance out the alcohol and the jet!

Wait, were other people talking while he was having this internal crisis? The strikers vanished, the little spirits returning to his own body as he refocused on the situation. That little guy, Mario, seemed to have been saying something but the Courier completely missed it. Then Din was… Dancing? Well, she was a dancer, and dancers danced. Just like he was a courier and couriers… Couried? Was that a word? Oh look, a cloud that looked like a mail package, heh heh heh. No, stay focused. The Courier shook his head and zeroed in on Din, attempting to figure out just why the hell she was dancing at a time like this. While her magic empowered him, his brain was too addled by chemicals to feel the difference, so she merely looked to be wasting time in a dangerous life or death situation.

Then the giant Bowser bellowed his declarations that he knew what they were doing and he wasn’t stupid. [color=tan]”Whaaaaaat? Noooooo. That’s crazy, you’re-you’re craaaazy!”[/color] Perhaps not the most convincing argument, but there it was, not that he’d have been able to see the results of such an attempt for [i]another[/i] behemoth of a creature interrupted them. A giant… Gloved hand?

[color=tan]”Ok, now I’ve seen some [i]crazy shit[/i] in my time… Both sober and totally not sober… But a giant disembodied hand? Pffffft. As Benny would say, get outta here, ya fink!”[/color] He waved aside the Master Hand, but of course it did not react to him in any way, as he held no power to influence this godlike being. Probably for the best to be frank.Regardless, a small mushroom headed midget was produced from the hand, which spoke to the giant Bowser in secret before taking off, and the winged Bowser likewise left them. Something about some pests in the castle? Wait, Geno was in that castle, right? No, Geno was right here. But Geno [i]was[/i] in the castle. So if he was but wasn’t anymore, then who was castle? Ah fuck it, they’d find out eventually.

Then the giant hand spoke, er, vibrated? It made wordy words with no mouth. Haha. Fuuun. Some stupid bullshit about fate and being destined to die and the light and blah blah blah a different flavor of the same old maniacal rhetoric the Courier had heard a million times before from Caesar and legate Lanius and Father Elijah and god dammit was he sick and tired of hearing this stupid crap! Everlasting paradise, please. Life is built on blood, sweat, and piss and vinegar. If this were a perfect paradise then there wouldn’t be any war, no bloodshed, but the battle between the rabbids and the robots had already shown that truly, war? War never changes. Which meant this hand’s word was the same as it jacking off.

He was about to say as much too, but then seven figures were beamed into existence. Seven figures that all were vastly different from one another. The hand said that they would hold the line and prevent the group from entering the castle, and battle with three times their normal power. Three times? Damn, that might actually be impressive! The Courier would have rolled up his sleeves before getting to work, if he actually had any sleeves. Instead he took a step forward, ready for a fight, before giving pause as Ratchet ran ahead. The little cat guy embraced a tiny robot that he apparently knew? What happened next nearly knocked the Courier back into sobriety, as the light enveloped Ratchet, reclaiming him. The lombax reunited with his best friend Clank, and in doing so succumbed to Galeem’s power once again. [color=tan]”Well… Shit.”[/color]

Six really didn’t have any words for what he had just witnessed, but looking around he could tell that the little robot wasn’t the only one with a close connection to one of the group. Zer0 took special interest in the dirty, grimy teenager with the metal arm and the robot, dashing aside and luring her away. Roadhog took an interest in a scrappy looking bandit junk man, and their battle began with explosive results. Six winced at the sound of the explosions, hating them as much as ever. Those two were far from the only ones, however, as it seemed that every one of the fighters summoned by the hand were, in fact, close to [i]somebody.[/i] If he weren’t still high off his ass, the Courier might have wondered by only seven, why not one for everyone? And why did he not have someone Did he really not have anybody that could be considered a close friend? But such thoughts were lost in favor of how the kid in the baseball cap looked like a wuss ass punk, or how the robot looking girl with pistol-like limbs was really darned cute.

Then his attention wandered back to Ratchet and his newly reunited buddy, Clank. As others took up arms against one of the newly summoned warriors, the Courier merely strode forward, silently, cautiously, his gun out but not at the ready to fire. He approached the lombax, who now had his robot buddy strapped to his back.

[color=tan]”Ratchet,”[/color] he said simply.

“Hey, uh, I never did get your name?” Ratchet responded, friendly, happy even.

“It would appear that I am not the only one who has not been properly introduced to your new friends, Ratchet,” Clank said from atop the lombax’s backside. 

[color=tan]”Don’t worry about it,”[/color] the Courier replied, eyes narrowed on the two. [color=tan]”Couldn’t introduce myself if I wanted to. Awhile back some fink put two bullets in my brain. Messed around with the wiring a bit.”[/color]

“Oof,” Ratchet replied, recoiling back a moment. “You know, some nanotech could fix that right up.”

“I am certain that we have a good many friends capable of helping to resolve your mental faculties. In any case please allow me to make your acquaintance. I am Clank, pleased to meet you.” Clank extended a hand outward to shake the Courier’s, who did so with some trepidation.

“It’s good to be back with ya, little buddy!” Ratchet exclaimed. Clank let out his signature laugh in response.

[color=tan]”Mhm. Well, this is… I’d hate to interrupt this reunion, but don’t you see anything wrong with this situation, Ratchet?”[/color] the Courier asked.

“Not at all. Why?”

[color=tan]”Huh. Well, it’s just that we need to go inside and kick that other Bowser’s ass…”[/color] The Courier definitely felt weirded out. Some of the others jumped into combat very quickly. By comparison Ratchet and Clank were quite cordial. They seemed to still be treating him as a friend and ally.

“Oh, I get ya. Sorry, but that’s a no can do.” Ratchet responded with some added finger guns for good measure.

“Affirmative,” Clank added. “I am afraid that we cannot let you pass this structure.”

[color=tan]”And why… Not?”[/color] The Courier tilted his head.

“You do not have the proper clearance, I am afraid,” Clank continued.

“Yeah, you’re just not allowed,” added Ratchet with a shrug.

The Courier decided he’d try to test it by stepping forward. Ratchet reached out with his omniwrench, blocking the way. “Sorry, wish I could let you go. I really do. We’re missing out on a lot of action in there, I’m sure.”

Six tried to push his luck further by ducking under the wrench. Ratchet brought it down. “I know you heard me. You’re not allowed to go by.”

[color=tan]”And why not?”[/color]

“You’re just not,” was all the answer the lombax could provide. Clank nodded sagely, as if this were somehow a commonly understood law of the universe, like gravity.

[color=tan]”I see. Well Ratchet, you remember that favor you owe me?”[/color]

“You mean when you dumped that grenade launcher on me and just decided that for yourself?” Ratchet shot back, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

[color=tan]”Sure. Listen, I need to get past.”[/color]

“Oof. Yeah, sorry. Can’t do it. But I could do other things for you?”

The Courier frowned. This experimentation was getting him nowhere quick, but at least he was able to determine some specific things about these fighters. It seemed like there wasn’t going to be any way around it. They’d have to fight. If he shot at the duo, then no doubt they’d respond in kind by using that grenade launcher. That would be a surefire way to get killed real fast. That meant the Courier needed to handle this up close and personal. Dammit, he wasn’t that great in melee combat. Well, he didn’t feel his martial arts return to him at least; he was still drained, which in essence meant he wasn’t going to be as good in a melee fight. That left him only one alternative. What was another chem to his drugged out body?

The Courier produced the bottle of buffout, popped the lid off, and downed the pills. Instantly he could feel the effects making way through his body. The super steroids lived up to the reputation, bulking up his muscles to superhuman levels. Tougher, stronger, sturdier, and they’d last about an hour. Tossing the bottle aside into the moat, the Courier pulled out the Equalizer and held it in a single hand, feeling as though he could squeeze too hard and break the damn thing. [color=tan]”Sorry about this,”[/color] he said, sincerely, as he took a swing horizontally straight for Ratchet’s midsection.