Earnest Evans

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Hi-Hat

Hi-Hat warmly wished Sindibad good luck in contacting the rest of the men on his list, and headed deeper into the pizzeria.

Along the way, Hi-Hat tapped the shoulders of two men: one dressed in the dark green and black of a little-known drug cartel from Stilwater, the other bedecked in a business suit and domino mask.

The two had been good friends of Hi-Hat's ever since they joined Shadow Eternity, and had even gone on several missions together. Those who ever met the group would quickly come to fear Hi-Hat the decker, Shazay the son of Samedi, and Xiang the Swordsman of the Crazy 88. And they were right on their way to the teleporter room.

Soon enough, they would be in New Orleans, aiming to meet the enigmatic voodoo practitioner that could give them the success they deserved.

Sindibad Darude

Sindibad carefully scanned through the list of names, making sure to circle and underline Doctor Facilier's entry. The next person on the list was... the Necbromancer. The Lord of all undead frat boys and sorority girls, the man who pierced the veil of darkness and learned that the true paddle is swung from within, the Beast With a Thousand Popped Collars: Chad Worthington-Gardner III. His usefulness was potentially worth the hassle of talking to him, but just as likely to be an active hindrance. The only way to find out was to tune in to his frequency...

The Necbromancer laid dormant in his realm, sinisterly awaiting the time The Creators would have need of him again. He felt he'd done something totes awesome with that "Haunted Sorority House" idea-- those adventurers wasted so much Meat just for the chance to get busted down by those undead bimboes of his! That was more than four years ago, and the Necbromancer hadn't had a single second of work ever since...

Suddenly, the skull-shaped-bong-shaped scrying orb in the corner began belting out a transmission!

"Testing, testing! This is Sindibad Darude, looking for The Necbromancer! We would like to talk!"

The Necbromancer, giddy from both panic and finally being noticed, scrambled over to the crystal skull-bong and breathlessly spoke into it.
"You-_{huff! huff!}-- I am He. Who is it that seeks an audience with the almighty Necbromancer?"

"I am no one but a man seeking power. There is a powerful artifact I seek, but it is locked behind a mighty castle garrison. Will you lend me a force, so that I may take what is rightfully mine?"

The Necbromancer was flabbergasted. NOBODY ever asked for his support!

"Yeah, sorry, brah. I don't have anything I can give away. All my combat minions're off on other projects. Realtalk: I'm the least-stocked necromancer in the whole of Loathing. Like, I don't have a single combat-ready minion!"

In fact, he didn't have any minions left! All the sorority zombies and werewolves and vampires and skeletons and ghosts were donated to the Dreadsylvanian Anti-Adventurer Restocking Effort, and not a single one was left for him! However, Chad did know one person who had donated generously to Dreadsylvania and still had forces left over...

"You know what, brah? I can help you out, 'cuz you're the first caller here in two years. I know a guy-- Rene C. Corman-- he's got skeletons. Loads of 'em. Yo, I'll talk to him, and I'll have him give you, like, 5% of his army for a shitload of Meat. Oh, and you gotta invite me to your next party. Best I can do for you, brah. Take it or make like a tree."

"I can accept that. Call Rene, and we'll talk later."

"Aight, lemme get on that. I'mma put you on hold for a second, brah."

...

"Aight, I talked to C-dawg, and he'll help you out. Just send me two million Meat, and I'll send most of it to the dude, and he'll send you some of his bonedawgs. Pleasure doing business with you brah. DON'T YOU FORGET ABOUT OUR PROMISE!"

"You're a real pal, Chad. We'll have a pizza party as soon as we're done with your friend's skeletons."

Sindibad closed the transmission, and gave Jack Morgan a brisk thumbs-up. "We've got skeletons! All we have to do is give this Necbromancer guy two million Meat and he'll teleport them where we want!"

Jack Morgan stared at Sindibad incredulously. "Uh, did he name a unit? Two million whats of Meat?"

"Grams or ounces, probably." Sindibad scratched the back of his head sheepishly.! "I hope it's grams, anyway..."

"Whatever. I'll call Takahara and tell him we need 2,000,000 grams of raw meat. I'm sure that will go over well."
Jack Morgan casually pulled out his wristpad, and typed in Takahara's number. Across the multiverse, in the Space Bar, Takahara's communicator started ringing.

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Hi-Hat

"Of course, sir! We'll see you in just a short while. In the meantime, I'm sure you have customers to deal with, and so I will stop taking up your time. Shocker+ looks forward to your continued cooperation!"

Hi-Hat closed the transmission, and turned to Sindibad. "Alright," said Sindibad, poring over the stack of notes Umbrella had oh so kindly written for him, "universe ID is... 630213, astronomical coordinates 0,0. French Quarter is in... where?"

Hi-Hat briefly thought for a moment. He had read about New Orleans before on the net. The (fake) technowizards at Renraku had put a lot of effort into designing a replica of New Orleans just so people could fill their virtual Mardi Gras addiction. "It's along a bend in the river, I think. Right next to a cemetery. Shouldn't be too hard to use a mundane map and triangulate the position that way."

Sindibad nodded. Mundane solutions to complex problems were always fun. "Finding the exact coordinates should be easy. We just need a few guys to do the footwork. Hi-hat, you're in. We need two more guys, though..."

Hi-Hat smirked confidently. "Don't you worry, buddy. I've got a few guys I know. We'll be round there nice and quick."

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Hi-hat, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Radio Room

Hi-Hat was taken a bit aback. This mighty master of the spirit world needed to carpool? Maybe ghastoline was expensive in the 1920's, maybe Facilier was extraecologically conscious, maybe he didn't have the resources for a legitimate portal.

Whatever it was, Facilier would need help getting to Nox. Hopefully, he'd know the exact location of the castle the Eye was being kept in, so Shocker+ wouldn't have to rely entirely on information stolen from Arragoz.

"Of course, my good doctor! All you need to do is provide a location, and we can configure a route directly to you. Since you'll need our assistance to reach the Eye, we shall have to convene in person to give you your teleporter. When is a good time we can meet you?"

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Hi-Hat, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Radio Room

"Oh, that's right! I apologize, sir, I appear to have forgotten my manners!"

Hi-Hat briefly pondered his next answers. Not one of them would be wholly true or wholly false. That was just a given, considering the circumstances he was in.

"I am a foreigner, from outside of America." Mostly true. After all, the Pueblo Corporate Council did not belong to the United States of America.

"I am with Shocker+, a widespread organization dedicated to the betterment of communities, through multiple means. Economic stimulation, controlled growth of beneficial ecosystems, and securing potential threats are all among our key goals." Half-true. Shocker+ was only dedicated to the betterment of communities because it's better to get their money and recruits when they're rich and bored.

"My cohorts and I are currently operating out of a restaurant in the Midwest." Almost entirely true, though Freddy Fazbear's technically wasn't a restaurant, and the pizzeria's Midwest was an indescribable distance away from Facilier's Midwest.

"My group is concerned with the actions of the army seeking the Eye of the Serpent. Their actions would cause irreparable damage to the state of the universe" Half-true. It would cause irreparable damage to the majority of the multiverse.

"We found your information through extended cooperation with a biochemical weapons company. You may have talked to one of their representatives over this connection before-- they're called the Umbrella Corporation." Almost entirely false. It was only considered 'cooperation' by virtue of the fact that Umbrella's current majority shareholder was being stored on a USB drive in Sindibad's pocket.

"We are hoping that we could use your expertise in spiritual matters to safely retrieve the Eye of the Serpent and ensure it is held safely away from hostile organizations." Mostly true. The only thing that mattered about the Eye was that it was out of Shadow Eternity's hands.

"So, Doctor Facilier, do we have your trust, or would you like to meet a representative in person? Shocker+ is always looking to hire ambitious entrepreneurs with diverse portfolios."

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Hi-Hat, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Radio Room

Hi-Hat smiled as Dr. Facilier answered promptly. It was refreshing to see someone who knew to keep his communication options so open. He'd practiced for just such an occasion-- Hi-Hat had always wanted to be one of the much-vaunted Runners, but could never rile up the right amount of contacts to ever get a Mister Johnson. Still, he practiced his speeches to Shamans and Mages with a First Nations friend of his. It was always good to be prepared.

"Hello there, Mister Facilier," said Hi-Hat, his voice modulator in action, "I and my colleagues are members of a certain extradimensional organization, and are looking for supernatural specialist. As I understand, you are an expert on spiritual matters, and would thus be excellent for use as a consultant on a future mission of ours. Are you familiar with an artifact known as the Eye of the Serpent? We have a vested interest in keeping it out of a violent military group's hands."

Hi-Hat paused for breath, and continued.
"If you want, we can discuss payment options now or after the mission. Money is no object, I can assure you."

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Jack Morgan, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

As Shivani disappeared in an ill-defined puff of mystery, Jack and his cohorts shrugged.
"One less criminal for the cops to deal with, I guess. I'm going back inside."

Sure enough, Jack went back inside, and spoke to Sindibad, who was presently poring over some unknown document on his tablet.
"Hoi, Sandstorm! What's that you've got there?" Jack said, giving Sindibad a startling slap on the shoulder.

"Hoi, cap'n," Sindibad said, briefly tearing his attention away from his tablet. "It's the address book I uploaded. I'm trying to pick out some people to help out on this 'Eye of the Serpent' thing. I'm looking for people from relatively low-tech universes, so their intrusion won't be seen as so much of an interdimensional incident."

Jack peered at a small index card Sindibad had been writing on. On it were a list of spooky-sounding names and their respective occupations. "Lessee... who're the people on this list?"

"Well, cap'n, they're the people I think are decent candidates. Uh, we already know Hecuba, but I'm waiting for Julius on that one. There's this guy called Quan Chi--"

"Stuff that one," said Jack, a look of irritation crossing his face, "we're not talking to Quan Chi. I've seen old Sneery playing Mortal Kombat in the rumpus room, and that guy sure as hell didn't look trustworthy there."

"But cap'n, didn't you see Deadly Alliance?" said Sindibad, hearkening back to the many hours he spent playing anachronistic video games from universes heavily under the effects of the ubiquitous concept of Recursive Canon. "If Quan Chi's helping you out--"

"Yes, I saw Deadly Alliance," said Jack. "Did you see what comes after that?"

"Well, no--"

"Good! Deception was terrible! Long story short, don't call Quan Chi because Quan Chi will ruin everything."

Sindibad rolled his eyes, and crossed a name off the list. "Aye aye, cap'n. Next up, I got this vodou practitioner. Name's 'Doctor Facilier'."

"Doesn't ring a bell. Hang on a second..." Jack hollered, shouting out to the assorted mooks enjoying themselves "Hey! Any of you ever hear of a Doctor Facilier?!"

There was a pause, as the mooks processed what Jack had shouted. Finally, one mook stood up, and called back. "He's from my daughter's favorite movie!" Smiling confidently, Jack beckoned the mook over.

Hi-Hat, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Radio Room

On closer inspection, the mook was evidently from a post-apocalyptic universe. The pink mohawk, reinforced leather jacket, and bolted-on cyberdeck all but confirmed he had every reason to savor old world media when he was rescued from post-society. With an unusual amount of enthusiasm, the mook gave Jack and Sindibad a brief recap on the plot.

"Uh, let's see... Dr. Facilier is the villain of The Princess and the Frog, which is set in New Orleans in the 1910's. Uh... the last thing that happened to him was him being kidnapped by... logos or moai or something. Yeah, gimme a chance to talk to him and I could probably convince him to help out."

Jack nodded. "Thanks, Hi-Hat. We'll call him up now, maybe we can call him back when we get a location. Oh, hey-- since he's from the 1900's, he probably won't know what a telephone is. You'll probably want to use a voice modulator to make it seem like you're actually summoning him instead of calling him up."

Sindibad dutifully tuned the HAM radio to the frequency listed on the index card. After a brief period of static, the noise on the radio changed to a heavy drumbeat, punctuated with the sounds of anguished screaming. On reflection, Hi-Hat realized that it was probably the second-worst hold tune he's ever had to sit through.

Finally, a voice answered the radio. It held a strange, bombastic baritone, like an announcer in an old jazz club. The voice seemed to be... anticipating something. "Heyo, boy! You come here to chit-chat, or you got an inmate you wanna talk to?!"

Hi-Hat opted to go for a more dramatic flair, and set the voice modulator on the radio receiver to a deep, low, bass. "I want to speak to the one called Facilier."

There was a brief pause, as the voice on the other end appeared to take inventory of something. "Which Facilier? We got dozens! D'you want Facilier the first, or Facilier the latest?"

Hi-Hat briefly considered asking for them all, but realized that speaking to several damned souls would be significantly worse than speaking to just one. "Get me the latest one, please."

"Sure thing. Hang on a lick, we'll get you your boy! 'Course, we can talk prices when he's done!"

Again, the drum beat. As Hi-Hat placed his hand on his chin in blank exasperation, something was going across the multiverse. A link between worlds was being sent to a little-known vodou shoppe in a little-known universe, but would reach its intended destination quickly. Hopefully, this Dr. Facilier fellow would be glad to help with this Nox situation.

Massive Multiversal Crossover

I'm not quite sure why you just randomly teleported away like that, with no reason behind it, @Belwicket. I mean, now you're just somewhere else, with no other character knowing where you are or who you're with.

You could at least have something substantial happen to cause you to teleport away, instead of apparently falling victim to a random teleportation.

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Jack Morgan, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

Jack scoffed at the level of foolhardiness being displayed by Shivani.
"You're not getting a mask until you get hired-- that's the whole point of the recruitment process! As for the guardbots, lemme try to find the sales pitch old Sneery used... ah! There we go!"

Jack pulled out his PDA, and pressed a couple buttons on it. A jingly little tune started up, and a deep, robotic, handsome voice started speaking through the PDA.
"We at MegaCorp appreciate the lengths our customers will go to defend their homes-- that's why we created the Megacorp Trooper v.5! Fitted with new 'Combi-Arsenal' technology--fresh from GrummelNet--the MT5 is guaranteed to be prepared for every situation! Order now, and we'll give you another unit, ABSOLUTELY FREE! _{Supplies limited. MegaCorp is not liable for cases involving MT5 related to death, injury, and erectile dysfunction.}"

The jingly tune ended, and Jack looked at Shivani with pride in his eyes.
"Got Sneery to buy 'em off his old boss, and then we retrofitted the clunky old animatronics that were stored in the back, using these new 'bots. New felt lining, new servos, new soul retainers, new voice modulators, and they're ready for battle! That's just the kind of toys we here at Shocker+ love to play with, and they can be yours if you join up!"

Jack sighed with great satisfaction. He always loved talking about robots. Maybe it was the fact that they didn't waste time trying to barge into deathtraps because they were curious.

"Anyway, you're not getting in. As a private establishment, Shocker+ has the right to refuse service and access to anyone they please. If you do not leave, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Julius Aldo, The Space Bar

Flipping fuckjacks, this is just like taking in Ingvar! Why do these Warhammer mooks always have to use bugs?!

Swatting ineffectually and slashing astonishingly effectively at the swarm of flying squiggly things angrily buzzing around his head, Julius could do little to protect Takahara from Arragoz's charge. Until he dealt with those Buzzas, he'd be entirely incapable of helping out!

A thought crossed his mind: bugs hate the cold, right? He could use that!

In one swift motion fueled by panic, pain, and the uplifting force of a couple dozen fist-sized bees exerting force on him, Julius leaped over the bar's counter, sprinted through the kitchen, tackled a cowering sous-chef out of the way, and ran straight into the still-open freezer.

Immersed in the lastest in post-space-age cryogenic gases, the Buzzas were much less fierce and much slower. His thick hide protecting him from both the cold and the weakened Buzzas, Julius happily walked out and closed the freezer door behind him, trapping the Buzzas in a prison of hydrogen and frozen semi-meat products.

Jack Morgan, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

Jack crossed his arms, and filed the answer to question two away as "yes, I was in an insurgent organization and was exceptionally effective in tearing down my opponents".

"You're not getting in until you join up with Shocker+, lady. It's a fine job, you know. Good pay, missions you choose yourself, a chance to make the universe better for the sake of making it better, the only teleporter out of here in this universe..."

Jack caught that last line of his just as he said it. Hastily, he added "and don't think you can force your way in, honey. You'll have to go through fifteen of the multiverse's strongest, smartest, bravest soldiers just to get through the playplace. Now, do you want this job, or would you rather piss around on this backwater world and get yourself a job at Walmart?"

Once again, the professional tone and questions. "Question Three: What would you say is the trait you most need to improve on? Be Honest."

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Julius Aldo, The Space Bar

As soon as Mr. Takahara came in, Julius knew things were about to go south. Sure enough, the situation escalated and now Julius was facing down a shoota.

Julius dove across the bar counter, narrowly ducking under, over, and around Arragoz's hideously-inaccurate volley. Relying on an all-too-flimsy barrier of fine mahogany and wood varnish to protect himself, Julius had to act quickly and rely on the fact that Arragoz would most likely be aiming at Takahara over him.

For Grodd's sake, Takahara, Julius thought to himself, as he drew a combat knife and his personal sidearm, what's with this "honorable" bullshit? He's an Ork! Letting him know that you're going to attack him is the worst possible action you could take with one! Now I have to pull your ass out of the fire!

Realizing that having to help Takahara out while fighting an angry Ork in hand-to-hand combat still wouldn't compare to when they had to bring Ingvar Bubonicus into the platoon, Julius sprang into action. He sprinted to the other end of the bar, and vaulted over the counter, placing him some distance behind Arragoz.

"Hey, greenskin! I'm offering a today-only discount on assassinations! Have a free sample!"
Julius cocked the hammer on his custom-built .90-caliber armor-piercing handcannon, and fired a pair of shots directly at Arragoz's back. The bullets, powerful as they were, would most likely not kill Arragoz. However, they were loud, painful, and hot enough to catch his attention. With any luck, Arragoz would have to split himself between stomping Takahara and shooting Julius.